In hindsight, Genesis had been foolish to expect anything akin to bliss at the end of his vendetta against those who had wronged him, against the planet herself for tolerating his impending death.
His DNA may have been purified of any error, any necrotic leak that was the aftermath of Hollander’s failed experiments, his battered form revitalized by the gift of the goddess he had coveted with his last strength. And yet, when he had come to himself, his perception no longer governed by pain and justified ire, it had dawned on him that his triumph over his own defective genes may have been nothing but a hollow victory.
The life he had fought to reclaim with such vehemence, after all, was no more. Angeal and Sephiroth were both dead, his sense of kinship with those more human than him erased by his newfound insight into their incorrigible nature as well as his virtual immortality.
The lofty ideal of heroism he had pursued, too, had been exposed as a mirage in equal parts conjured by Shinra and the naivety of youth.
Although Genesis would never want to return to a state of ignorance, dulling his mind with comforting delusions, he nevertheless felt compelled to acknowledge that, where there had once been the final vestiges of innocence, there was now an exquisitely bitter pain.
He thus permitted himself to mourn his past happiness in its own right, withdrawing from the world stage in the absence of a cause worthy of his attention.
Only when the planet herself called for him wearing his goddess’s distressed countenance did Genesis summon his trusted Rapier and take to the tumultuous sky on a single jet-black wing.
The planet alone had healed him and for that very reason become the object of his unreserved loyalty.
With his superior willpower and mental resilience, there was no risk for Genesis to succumb to the hypnotic call for Reunion luring a motley cast of familiar faces, strangers, and black robed puppets to the stage Sephiroth had prepared for them.
And by the Goddess, was the play of Sephiroth’s design a spectacle: A riveting tale of betrayal, greed, and dulcet agony, it demanded Genesis’ rapt attention right up to the revelation that took the unwitting performers’ breath away.
It was thus only when the blond—the infantryman he had once hunted for his cells—that Genesis emerged from the shadows, knocking him out with a precise kick to the back of the head before effortlessly catching both the boy and the perilous black orb he had carried.
“Leave. You’re out of your depth—all of you,” he addressed the group with an imperious look. “Do take your addled companion off my hands.”
Not caring whether or not they would catch the blond, Genesis unceremoniously shoved him towards them.
(A young woman with shiny dark brown hair that fell below her waist and a brawny man with a firearm attached to the stump of his right arm swiftly stepped up to the task.)
There was the telltale flash of recognition in the eyes of the vice-president and the director of advanced weaponry, but it was more pronounced in Hojo’s, whose self-congratulatory glee was dulled by displeasure, most likely upon seeing him not merely alive, but in splendid health.
Fortunately for the motley group, the Shinra heir was discerning enough to ensure their prompt evacuation: As soon as their airplane took off the ground and Genesis conjured a potent barrier to ward off any falling debris, the cave was already collapsing in a thunderous cacophony, restoring the stage to a clean slate as if inviting him to raise the curtain to the consecutive act.
Even before the dust settled, Genesis was already applauding, paying his due tribute to the masterful puppeteer in the form of four slow claps.
“It has certainly been a while,” he remarked, the poised nonchalance he exuded a convincing fabrication.
Although Sephiroth had vanished from sight along with his translucent chrysalis, Genesis nevertheless sensed his tremendous energy, his indomitable will.
“Here, to commemorate our fortuitous reunion,” he echoed the words he had once spoken to him in a distant past.
And suddenly, the entire area was suffused with green, pulsating light as he cast his most potent healing spell, willing his magic to track his former friend and push into his half-restored body. Compared to his usual healing spells that were gentle and soothing, this more powerful counterpart was relentless and violent, brimming with life in its raw, undiluted potency.
With bated breath, Genesis watched as his spell condensed at a moderate distance, meters beneath the ground he stood upon, waiting for it to restore his former friend’s physical form to its rightful splendor.