@tyrantchimera and i were contemplating on a weird eldritch Jenova (remake ver.) would look like a la Bloodborne's Great Ones. So here's a rather visceral looking Jenova (Blight of the Cosmos).
Four years after you lost him, Sephiroth begins visiting you in your dreams. Only, the dreams grow stranger, more luminous. And when an otherworldly woman begins to appear, even in your reality, you start to suspect that these aren't mere dreams or hallucinations...
❀ ˚₊· ➳❥ word count - 3002
❀ ˚₊· ➳❥ warnings - smut/porn with plot, insane/post-Nibelheim Seph, female reader, both Jenova and Seph are targeting reader but there is no romance between those two I promise, slight cnc, wet dreams, ghost sex(?), some temperature play, tentacle fucking, fingering/masturbation, piv sex, breast play, breeding, mind control, dead dove: do not eat
masterlist // read on AO3
Darkness. It engulfs your entire vision.
You’re cold. So cold you think you may die. You clutch at your skin, bare and icy to the touch. You can’t see anything, can’t feel anything but yourself, like you’re floating through a starless galaxy, alone, nude and terrified.
But then there’s a sudden warmth. A hand reaches out, a familiar one. You feel his gentle touch, gliding over your skin, caressing you from your arms down to your thighs. You find comfort in him, wishing he’d embrace you.
But his touch vanishes, and is replaced by a new one. One you don’t recognize.
The hand feels… well, womanly. Softer, thinner fingers dance over your shoulder, her touch icy cold. You shiver, but don’t feel the life-threatening kind of cold that reaches deep into your chest. No, this is like ice cubes on overly sensitive skin, creating a chilling sensation that luckily doesn’t hurt for very long. You shiver as she trails her fingertips over your skin, over your breasts, before she pauses once they’re resting on your stomach. You can feel that she’s smiling, and so you do, too.
Her palm flattens on your belly, the thumb running over you in smooth motions. She holds her hand there, and then suddenly, her touch is hot. It burns you, igniting a fire so intense you think you’ve been cast directly into the sun. But through the heat, her palm does not stray away from your stomach. It stays there, claiming it.
And then like none of it ever happened at all, every sensation vanishes, and you’re back in the empty, bone-chilling darkness.
—
You wake slowly, feeling that horrific ache in your lower stomach yet again.
The pain has been consistent for days now, like a cramp, but certainly not anything like a menstrual one. You truly have no idea what it is, but have avoided seeing a doctor about it. You need to stay low, after all.
You couldn’t risk being found, and had managed to survive four years without being caught. But you knew they were still looking for leads on you. A Shinra lab assistant who happened to be the lover of the now dead war hero Sephiroth was certainly someone who had seen too much, not to mention the fact that they had plans to use you for experiments. That had been the final nail in the coffin— the last reason you’d been given to go into hiding. With Sephiroth gone, there would be nobody to protect you. And considering you’d been his fiancee, well, they were positive that you’d have his DNA within you, through natural occurrences.
So you fled. All the way to a small town up North, Icicle Inn. Found yourself a job at the inn, though a position where you’d almost never have to see customers, and tried to move on from your life in Midgar.
But how could you, when you had yet to get over your beloved dying? Every night you’d lay on the same bedsheets from your old home in Midgar, clinging onto the last place you’d spent with him. And every time you woke up without him, you struggled to resist crying. Your heart couldn’t accept that he was gone. Especially not when he constantly visited you in your dreams.
But that dream you’d just woken from… it was yet another in the newest series of somewhat wet dreams you’d been having. Before, your dreams about him were always bittersweet, but still comforting. However, about a month ago now, they grew far more sexual, to the point you felt like it was some sort of paranormal occurrence. There was no way you were somehow conjuring up this many sexual dreams on your own, especially not when they were so… weird.
They had started out decently normal. Sephiroth would be making love to you, and then beg to cum inside of you. Nothing too different from when you two had sex in your real life, aside from the fact you’d both been extremely careful about preventing pregnancy, considering your occupations. But then they changed, he changed. He had this dark aura about him, his vocabulary was different, the tone he used far more powerful and intimidating. He spoke of wishing to claim you once more, how he’d found you and would finally guide you to himself to reunite at last; all while buried to the hilt inside of you, his thick cock ravaging your cunt. He’d grip you tightly, speak of breeding you, and how you’d give him and the planet a rightful heir.
It was… a very strange fantasy, that was for certain.
And then there was that woman… you had absolutely no clue who she was, but you found her beautiful, beyond breathtaking. She had pale, glimmering skin, icy blue hair and the most lovely of curves. You wondered if this was the summon Shiva herself visiting you. Which, of course it wasn’t. But you were certain that it was her face you’d been seeing. Whose else could it be, after all?
You had no right in straying from your beloved Sephiroth, yet when she appeared within your dreams, it was as if you became helpless, trapped under her spell. She was seducing you, beckoning you to come find her and give her something. You don’t know what exactly she wants you to give her yet, though.
Not to mention, you couldn’t help but to notice that as of late, you were seemingly being followed by feathers. You had no explanation for it. There were never any birds around, and you were positive that birds weren’t somehow breaking into your small loft apartment every night to leave a singular feather in your bedroom.
And sure enough, when you swung your feet off of the bed and got up, yet another lone, black feather laid against the old wooden floor, taunting you.
With a sigh, you bent to pick it up and placed it with the ever-growing pile of feathers you’d begun collecting in an old vase. You didn’t know what to do with them, but throwing them outside somehow felt… wrong.
Speaking of outside, you wished to go on a short walk before your shift at the inn today. So you put on your clothing with extra layers, and headed down from the attic apartment and took the inn’s back exit, stepping out into the icy terrain.
The snow wasn’t too bad today, and the sun was completely visible for once. So with a small smile, you headed out onto the invisible path you’d created for yourself years ago, aiming to go halfway into the woods where you’d then turn around and head home.
But once you were far away enough from the town, you felt odd. An awful sensation creeped up your back; you were being watched.
You paused in your tracks, already having a feeling of what you’d see when you turned around. And sure enough, when you twisted your neck to glance behind yourself, a singular black feather was slowly floating down, landing in the fluffy snow, taunting you.
Sighing, you chose to ignore it and continue on. But the feeling of being observed did not dissipate. Soon, it got worse.
And then, those same womanly hands suddenly gripped your upper arms, holding you in place. Yet you couldn’t see her.
You almost tripped from how abruptly you stopped, but steadied yourself, for the moment, that is. Her hands quickly began to roam, and cupped your breasts over your puffy jacket. You didn’t know what to do. There was nobody here. What was touching you? Were you hallucinating?
“Don’t worry,” Sephiroth’s voice echoed throughout your mind, startling you. “She means no harm— don’t resist.”
And against your better judgement, you listened. You allowed the ghostly woman’s hands to grope at your body, when she suddenly held your face, running a thumb over your lips. The urge to kiss her suddenly bubbled up, startling you.
“Come to me,” she whispered, hands suddenly leaving you entirely.
With a sad gasp, you pathetically began to chase after her. You needed to be with her, she was the most important thing to you, and you’d loathe to lose her. You still couldn’t even see her, yet it was as if your body simply knew where to go on instinct. You ran into the woods, and rushed to a small clearing. This was where she wanted you, right?
“Good girl,” she cooed, stroking your head. “Now undress for me…”
“But… the cold…” you whispered, unsure if stripping naked in the middle of a snow-covered forest was a smart idea.
“You will be unharmed,” she hummed, still petting your hair. “Strip.”
Without any more hesitation, you began to rip your clothing off, tossing it all away until you were completely nude. You shivered, but refused to back down. You glanced down to find your nipples were extremely hard from the cold air blowing over them. But the feeling in them tenfolded when a pair of hands began to fondle them without warning.
Her hands kneaded and squeezed at your mounds, thumbs rolling over your hard nipples and occasionally pinching them. Your breathing grew heavier as she worked away at them, her touch methodical as if she was trying to milk you.
She then let out a teasing, low giggle, as though she could read your thoughts. “Soon, my little goddess.”
Soon? Did she mean that you’d begin to lactate soon? What was going on?
Her hands then released your breasts, and you could feel her smile. “Lay down.”
You obeyed, planting yourself into the freezing snow. It pricked and nearly burned your skin, but you paid it no mind, too focused on wanting to give into this otherworldly woman. Her hands resumed touching you, this time caressing you all over, as one came to a stop over your stomach. Just like your dream.
“Soon, you will carry our heir. You’ll do that for us, won’t you, little goddess?”
You eagerly nodded, not even thinking for yourself anymore. Yes. You’d give her and Sephiroth everything they wanted, including every part of your body. And if that included your womb, you’d be more than willing.
“Good girl,” she let out a pleased hum, sliding her hands down to part your thighs, exposing your wet cunt to the icy air.
You didn’t expect that sensation to feel so good, expecting the bite of the cold air to hurt. Yet it felt thrilling. You failed to suppress a whine, and bit your lip with a gasp when she began to touch you again. Something unhuman poked at your folds and your clit, testing how wet you were. And when it decided you were lubed enough, it prodded your hole. As it slowly began to enter, you found that the only way to describe it was tentacle-like. It slithered its way through your tight, velvety walls, and stretched you unlike anything else you’d taken. It was exhilarating, and wonderful.
“What a perfect goddess you’re being,” Sephiroth’s ghostly voice echoed in your right ear, as if he were laying beside you. “Mother is delighted.”
The spell you’re under breaks for a moment, clarity coming to you. Mother? Who is ‘mother’? You know Sephiroth’s mother died long before he ever did, before he could even understand it, so…?
None of this was making any sense. How were two ghosts making love to you? And one is impersonating your dead fiancé? This isn’t right, you have to be going insane.
Her burning lips kiss yours, and suddenly, you’ve forgotten everything you were questioning. The tentacle in your cunt squirms, pulsating within your hole.
“Hhh-aah,” you breathe out, watching as puffs of hot air fade away.
“We won’t be able to breed you like this, I’m afraid,” her voice says to you, disappointed. “You’ll need to come find us— in the crater.”
Without warning, the tentacle pulls itself out of you, leaving you dripping and gaping. You cry as your cunt flutters around nothing, and roll onto your side, curling up. No! You need more. They won’t leave you out in the open like this, will they?
Against your better judgement, you slide a hand down between your legs, and begin to play with your pussy. Your icy fingers poke at your clit, shaking from the cold. But you push on, rubbing your fingers against it with a short whine.
Despite the harsh wind, you’re still soaking wet, and so you then dip two fingers into your folds, finding your tight hole. With a heavy sigh, you push in and begin fingering yourself, desperate to reach that high; you have to cum right now, even if it means freezing to death.
You curl your fingers, desperately rubbing your fingertips against your gummy walls, groping one of your breasts and pinching its nipple with your other hand, when an orgasm finally washes over you. An exhausted, faint cry leaves your lips. You smile, pulling your hand out from your cunt to see your own slick stringing between your soaked fingers, the substance almost instantly freezing over.
And then, you succumb to the cold, falling unconscious.
—
After a nice, soothing warm bath, you pull on a fluffy robe, still too exhausted from the day to even bother with redressing before getting into bed.
You’d ended up calling out from work, after you’d woken up in the snowy clearing. Oddly enough though, your clothes had been put back on for you, and you had enough strength to get yourself home. But that was the extent of your energy, as after that, you immediately went back to sleep on the old couch in your apartment.
Now, as you curled up into your soft blankets and pillows, you felt wonderful. Your orgasm from earlier in the day had done wonders for your stress levels, making you feel more relaxed than you had ever been in the last four years.
Still, it was odd. The way their touches felt so real, yet there was no physical evidence of Sephiroth or this ‘mother’ person’s presence. You wondered if you were ill and hallucinating. Maybe you really should see a doctor after all. Under a fake name, if you have to.
Wrapping your arms around a pillow, you snuggled up and closed your eyes, deciding you’d worry about it tomorrow. You slowly began to drift off with ease, wondering what sort of dreams would fill your mind tonight.
…
Your robe is pushed out of the way, revealing your nude bottom. And from the way you’re laying, your ass is pushed out and presented, ready for his taking. Not intentionally, of course. It’s simply the position you fell asleep in.
His hands, bare and warm, slide over your skin, feeling the softness of your thighs and rear, using his thumbs to pull on your skin and reveal your cunt to him. You’re so easily exposed like this, perfect for being claimed and filled with cum.
Gently, your legs are spread a bit more, and he places his cock’s tip at your hole, hot and dripping with pre-cum.
You wake up with a cry, when Sephiroth’s cock suddenly shoves into you, filling your cunt to the brim in one singular thrust.
He chuckles, the sound reverberating deep within your ear. You glance back, but… he isn’t there.
You’re not dreaming this time, you realize.
Sephiroth begins pounding into your hole, his cock stretching you apart. The vein that runs along his shaft grinds against your walls, forcing you to bite into the pillow you’re still hugging, needing to suppress your cries from being heard by the rest of the inn, as you’re only one floor above the customers. But he’s so relentless; the intensity of which he fucks you leaving you breathless and unable to do anything but take it.
“I won’t be able to breed you until we physically meet again,” he cooes into your ear, “but after observing the way you pathetically fingered yourself in the snow earlier… it left me insatiable.”
You give him muffled whine in response, arching your back and trying to push back in time with his thrusts. You were still sensitive from earlier, meaning you wouldn’t last very long.
His body, invisible to you, suddenly envelopes your smaller frame as he climbs over you, hugging you tightly. You can feel wisps of silver hair tickling your skin, his strong thighs pressed against your ass, and his weight pressing down on you. And throughout all of this, he doesn’t stop pumping into you. You feel like you’re in heaven.
“How I missed the way your perfect little body felt beneath mine. And how I’ve regretted not breeding you when I had the chance. But now… now we can do all of the things we never could before. You, mother and I… we can spend all of eternity together.”
“Fu-fuck, yessss,” you hiss, drooling into your pillows as you cream around his cock. “Sephiroth…”
You feel his length twitch within you. He’s close.
“Good girl… just a little more.”
His hands begin fondling and groping at your body. He grabs your stomach with one, pushing on it and feeling the way it squishes beneath his palm. The other of course, is attached to your breast, holding it firmly. You belong to him.
“Hhhaaahh, Sephiroth,” you cry, clamping down on him. You’re at your end.
His body tenses up, and suddenly, you feel it. His seed spilling into your hole, painting your womb white. You moan and squirm underneath him, your entire body spasming from how intense your shared orgasm is.
And then…
He’s gone. Again.
You shake and pant against the pillow, reeling from what just occurred. Was any of that real? Are you truly hallucinating, or was it an extremely lucid dream?
After you regain a little strength, you push yourself up and twist your body, reaching a hand behind yourself and between your legs…
Where you feel a warm pool of cum, dripping from your spent cunt.
FF7 au were Jenova fuses with Lucrecia to keep them both alive (similarly to how Vincent being fused with Chaos kept him alive) as well as to keep Lucrecia from throwing herself into a crystal coma and while Lucrecia is in control for the most part Jenova is in her head constantly spouting vile things and takes control every once and awhile to cause havoc (once again similarly to Chaos). They live exclusively on the top floor of the Shinra manor so Lucrecia has no idea Vincent is alive sleeping in the basement. Until Sephiroth comes to Nibelhiem.
First Soldier sorta made this moment even more messed up. Seeing Sephiroth staring at Jenova's disgusting corpse with so much open adoration and affection, desperate to finally touch her, desperate to finally make contact. She poisoned him. This is the culmination of all her efforts. He's completely delusional. He just murdered a bunch of innocent people and the only thing on his mind right now is finally getting the chance to get close to his darling mother. It's the only thing he cares about.
And he's so absolutely lovesick and aching for her that he actually ignores his own sense of self-preservation. Sephiroth, SOLDIER First-class, master swordsman, literally doesn't even stop to protect himself from a no-name trooper. He allowed himself to get absolutely annihilated because he was too busy drowning in his own mommy issues-fueled euphoria. The thing that compelled him do become a monster is the very thing that kills him. It's his greatest weakness. His true Achilles Heel.
AU Project Title: Fantasy Worlds Collide: The Kilonova Crisis
Genre: Dark Fantasy / Science-Fantasy Mythos / Cosmic Horror Synthesis
Pairing(s): Sephiroth-Prime / Bianca Amara Moore (The Dark Dyad); Archangel Alexander Michael Augustus Maloney / Kayla Grace Winters
Key Characters Featured: Sephiroth-Prime, Bianca Amara Moore, Archangel Alexander Maloney, Kayla Grace Winters, Genesis Rhapsodos, Asmodeus / Azrakiel, High Confessor Joshua McNeely, David Michael Moore, Sarah Miriam Moore, Jenova, Erik Pitre
Narrative Rating: Explicit
Core Themes & Tropes: Dark Fantasy Realism, Cosmic Horror Synthesis, Multiversal Apocalyptic Collapse, Absolute Devotion vs. Cosmic Nihilism, Divine Cannibalism & Ascension, The Tyranny of Prophecy, Destruction and Universal Rebirth, Extinction of Metaphysical Infrastructure
Content & Trigger Warnings: Graphic Violence, Extreme Gore, Cosmic Horror, Cannibalism of Divine and Infernal Entities, Deicide, Systemic Genocide, Complete Multiversal Destruction, Death of Loved Ones, Manipulation and Betrayal, Psychological Trauma, Erasure from Existence
Current Project Status: World-building Only
Updated: July 21, 2026
Summary: The Kilonova Crisis serves as the multi-billion-year macro-culmination of the Fantasy Worlds Collide mythos, fusing the dark sci-fi framework of Final Fantasy VII with an original cosmic and infernal mythology. At its heart lies the apocalyptic campaign of the Active Sovereigns: Sephiroth-Prime (the Safer Sovereign) and Bianca Amara Moore (the Goddess of Reality / Womb That Devours). Recognizing that the canonical "Promised Land" is nothing more than an illusory construct within a fundamentally broken cosmos, the Dark Dyad embarks on an eons-long pilgrimage across star systems, demonic abysses, and celestial planes. Their goal is not merely conquest, but the absolute erasure of an old Creation corrupted by systemic failure, false gods, and infinite cycles of suffering. By systematically consuming entire planetary bodies and siphoning divine essence into their own godhood, they starve the universe's natural cycle of entropy, rendering Death itself obsolete and driving its neutral maintainers, the Grim Reapers, to extinction.
The atmospheric tone is one of oppressive cosmic dread interwoven with deeply personal, tragic gravitas. The narrative tracks the systemic dismantling of the ancient universal order across four primary fronts. In the shadows, Genesis Rhapsodos operates as a centuries-long sleeper agent within the Abyssal Court, deceiving the Prince of Lust, Asmodeus, to facilitate Bianca’s rise. In the burning depths of Hell, Bianca slaughters her biological father and usurps the infernal throne. Upon the holy plains of Caelora, the Host of Heaven makes a brutal, unyielding final stand, led by Archangel Alexander Maloney and the prophetic seer Kayla Winters. Every encounter is characterized by staggering violence and high metaphysical stakes, as the defenders fight not just for survival, but to preserve the memory of love and divine order against an inevitable, predatory tide.
The crisis reaches its absolute zenith when the old domains of Heaven, Hell, and the Mortal Plane lie thoroughly hollowed out. Facing no remaining equal, Sephiroth channels the entirety of his Supernova’s stellar energy directly into the black hole singularity housed within Bianca’s draconic phoenix void form. This triggers the titular Kilonova event: a localized collapse of time, space, and magic that crushes the totality of existence down into a singular, infinitely dense primordial point. Through this catastrophic synthesis, the Dark Dyad extinguishes the old cosmos in order to serve as the sole origin point for a blank, uncorrupted universe, leaving behind only silent, microscopic scars of the world that was.
The multi-billion-year timeline of the Kilonova Crisis strips away the mortal constraints and canonical limitations of its cast, recasting them as mythic pillars, cosmic predators, or desperate defenders operating at the absolute limits of their agency and trauma.
Sephiroth-Prime: Unlike his canonical incarnation, who remained a fragmented, chaotic force bound to Gaia and thwarted by Cloud Strife, Sephiroth-Prime has achieved complete stabilization and absolute control over his divine Safer form. Eons of calculated warfare have burned away his former existential confusion, redirecting his messiah complex into a unified campaign alongside Bianca. Draped in structured black leather, cold metallic silver pauldrons, and sweeping black-and-silver wings, his physical presence is focused, elegant, and terrifying. Mechanically and psychologically, he operates with flawless precision. His swordplay with Masamune is paired with high-tier celestial nullification magic. His primary motivation is no longer mere destruction for revenge, but the systematic purging of his engineered past, the total eradication of external gods who could threaten his union, and the establishment of an absolute sanctuary for himself and Bianca.
Bianca Amara Moore: Originating as a Nephilim hybrid of celestial and infernal bloodlines infused with S-cells, Bianca undergoes the most radical physical and psychological evolution in the AU. Transformed by eons of trauma, divine cannibalism, and her unconditional bond with Sephiroth, she evolves from a fractured survivor into a 55-foot draconic cosmic horror known as "The Womb That Devours." Her attire transitions from dark indigo and charcoal robes to a shifting skin of dragon scales, velvet shadows, and violent crimson energy vents. She possesses the ability to consume the spiritual biomass of dead and living gods, converting their power into raw void magic. Her internal landscape is driven by fierce possessiveness over Sephiroth and a absolute refusal to be manipulated by her biological lineage, making her the ultimate executor of the old world's liquidation.
Archangel Alexander Michael Augustus Maloney: Serving as the Supreme Commander of Heaven, Alexander stands as the holy foil to Sephiroth-Prime. Draped in immaculate, star-forged plate armor etched with Enochian runes, he commands the Host of Caelora with divine valor. Unlike the cold detachment of the Dark Dyad, Alexander's power is drawn from selfless love, paternal devotion, and an unshakeable duty to protect his wife, Kayla, and his people. As the crisis wears on, his internal landscape becomes heavily burdened by grief as he watches the universal infrastructure fall around him. He adapts his martial skillsets to fight cosmic-scale threats, wielding massive holy broadswords capable of rending spatial anomalies. He matches Sephiroth blow-for-blow during the Siege of Caelora, fighting not with the expectation of ultimate victory, but to grant his family and universe a noble, untarnished end.
Kayla Grace Winters: The Consort of Valor and High Seer of Caelora, Kayla is the prophetic anchor of the old reality. Adorned in flowing crimson and silver silks that reflect her inner affinity with the Crimson Grace, she possesses sight that spans timelines and spatial dimensions. Her agency is defined by her quiet, unyielding resilience. Even as her visions reveal the absolute victory of the Dark Dyad, she refuses to surrender to despair. In this timeline, her skillsets expand from passive divination to active temporal weavercraft, allowing her to hold defensive barriers that shield the surviving celestial soul-refugees. Her psychological standing is one of profound, mournful clarity as she watches her family fall sequential deaths, ultimately holding the line alone until she is personally struck down and systematically scrubbed from the fabric of time by Bianca.
Genesis Rhapsodos: The Crimson Seraph undergoes a bitter, complex tragic arc. Clad in his iconic scarlet leather coat, modified with faded infernal sigils from his eons in the abyss, Genesis initially acts as a cold, calculating sleeper agent under the direct telepathic command of Sephiroth and Bianca. He feigns absolute loyalty to Asmodeus, using his deep understanding of prophecy and LOVELESS to manipulate the Abyssal Court into position for Bianca's surprise invasion. However, after witnessing the complete lack of mercy shown to Caelora and realizing that the Sovereigns intend to leave zero survivors or memories in the New World, Genesis suffers an existential break. He launches a desperate, fatal mutiny against the Dark Dyad, seeking to preserve at least a fragment of reality, only to be effortlessly defeated and absorbed by Sephiroth and Bianca as the "Spare Verse."
Asmodeus / Azrakiel: The Primarch of Luxuria and Prince of Lust is a fallen Watcher Angel whose appearance shifts between stunning, angelic beauty and horrifying infernal reptilian features. Clad in regal, sin-infused silks and dark gold armor, Asmodeus is driven by an ancient, arrogant ambition to claim the Empty Throne of Creation. He views his biological daughter, Bianca, merely as an ultimate weapon and conduit for his ascension. His psychological downfall stems from his supreme arrogance. He believes he has successfully manipulated Genesis into his service, completely blind to the fact that he is being set up. When Bianca breaches Hell, his strategic brilliant counts for nothing against her raw, predatory fury, ending with his brutal execution and ingestion by his own offspring.
High Confessor Joshua Ayodele McNeely: An elevated Nigerian-Irish priest whose earthly piety saw him raised to the highest spiritual offices of Caelora. Wielding simple, unadorned vestments marked with glowing holy seals, Joshua is the unshakeable moral anchor of the celestial realm. His role in the AU is that of a pastoral guardian and spiritual counselor to Alexander and Kayla. He possesses high-level warding and purification miracles that can temporarily push back Jenova-cell rot. During the final siege, his internal landscape remains pure and free of fear. He willingly steps into the path of the Dark Dyad, using his own soul-essence to cast a final protective barrier over the celestial sanctuaries before being consumed by Bianca to fuel her final ascension.
David Michael Moore: Bianca’s adoptive human father, David remains a grounded, stoic survivalist amidst a realm of gods and monsters. Draped in worn, functional tactical gear adapted for cosmic hazardous environments, he carries decades of unspoken grief for his murdered wife, Sarah. His role within the universe is that of the silent Sentinel, maintaining a small, fortified refuge on the edge of the collapsing mortal plane. He navigates the apocalyptic environment with quiet, weary dignity, offering no resistance to the cosmic tide. His arc concludes quietly during the trigger of the Kilonova, where he peacefully accepts his death, finding resolution in his final reunion with Sarah's soul within the reality.
Sarah Miriam Moore: Though physically deceased long before the main events of the Kilonova Crisis, Sarah's spirit acts as the "Luminous Vessel" and maternal blueprint within the narrative. Her memory is what initially anchored Bianca's humanity. In this altered reality, her soul-essence is extracted from the decaying afterlife pathways by Bianca before the complete erasure of the spiritual infrastructure. Bianca utilizes Sarah's lingering maternal blueprint to construct the precise emotional bonds and soul-framework required to carry her own future godling twins into the post-Kilonova reality.
Jenova: The ancient extraterrestrial parasite is no longer an active, independent intelligence scheming to consume Gaia, but rather a thoroughly subjugated, inverted foundational resource. Her cellular biology (S-cells) has been entirely harvested, refined, and mastered by Sephiroth and Bianca. Jenova’s corruptive properties are utilized as a wide-scale systemic viral agent to infect planetary bodies, breaking their natural spiritual immune systems and prepping them for total consumption by the Dark Dyad.
Erik Pitre: A former Soviet soldier turned vampiric incubus, Erik serves as the Pale Marksman. Clad in a dark, heavily altered military trench coat equipped with long-range anti-entity firearms loaded with sin-infused ammunition, Erik acts as an unwavering guard for Bianca during her vulnerable mortal-to-divine transitions. He operates with cold, professional efficiency, navigating the decaying urban ruins of the mortal realm to eliminate interference from remaining Reaper factions or rogue infernal scouts, welcoming his own ultimate dissolution when the cosmic reset takes hold.
Altered Core Dynamics: The interpersonal relationships within this AU are defined by stark, absolute polarities forged by an apocalyptic environment. The Dark Dyad (Sephiroth and Bianca) operates with absolute alignment. Connected by the Filum Aeternum (the Red Thread of Fate), their trust is total and devoid of the betrayal or doubt that plagued their pasts. Sephiroth acts as the razor-sharp, unyielding tactical shield, while Bianca acts as the overwhelming destructive reservoir. Conversely, the Trinity of Valor (Alexander, Kayla, and their lineage) displays a tragic, selfless love where each member actively chooses self-sacrifice to prolong the lives of the others, creating a sharp emotional contrast to the predatory co-dependency of the Sovereigns. The dynamic between Asmodeus and Genesis is built entirely on layered subversion: Asmodeus views Genesis as an easily manipulated tool, while Genesis quietly feeds intelligence to Sephiroth, turning the entire infernal hierarchy into a pre-packaged feast for Bianca.
🗺️ World-building & Environment
The Atmospheric Setting:
The Atmospheric Setting: The structural topography of existence in this AU is divided between two absolute poles: Caelora, the Celestial Realm of Divine Light and Living Virtues, and Umbralyth, the Abyssal Realm of Infernal Sins and Psychopathological Torment.
Caelora (The Celestial Realm): Built upon a foundation of absolute purity, living virtues, and divine radiance, Caelora is divided into profound mythic sectors and virtue domains.
The Azrakiel Divide: A colossal canyon scar carved into the realm by Azrakiel (now Asmodeus) during the ancient Celestial Civil War. Its jagged edges remain perpetually scorched from divine dragonfire, and winds scream through its depths with haunting echoes of that original angelic betrayal, physically splitting the Southern and Northern Celestial Realms.
Frostbound Expanse: A glacial, sacred wilderness of razor-sharp icy peaks and shimmering crystalline snowfields at the highest altitude of Caelora. Ancient Nephilim carved monolithic stone sanctuaries into the mountainsides beneath skies ablaze with eternal auroras. When Nephilim retire from the mortal world, they make a final pilgrimage into this absolute, cold silence to vanish into eternity.
The Celestial Prison: A fortress of divine paradox perched upon a jagged coastal promontory where crushing waves impact like celestial drums. Hewn from unbreakable starlight alloy and bound by prayers older than time, it houses cosmic entities too dangerous to destroy or release. Beneath seven glowing sigils lies the Burrowed Children, bound in perpetual stasis and guarded by silent angelic wardens who never blink or breathe, while the sea below churns with whispering madness.
The Shining City: Crowned in eternal moonlight, this radiant metropolis rises above high sea cliffs like a beacon of absolute divinity. Its avenues are woven from solid light and sacred song, vibrating with raw celestial power. Here dwell the Thrones and the unknowable, resplendent Creator. Spires of silver and glass pierce the heavens, and golden gates open only for souls bearing ultimate purpose.
The Moonlight Forest: A vast, silent wilderness covered in shimmering silver and electric-blue foliage, carpeted by night-blooming flowers that release glowing pollen into the cool night air. Bianca and Sephiroth's dreamscape.
The Seven Lands of Virtue:
Land of Chastity: Sanctified, sunlit meadows filled with silver-white flowers where desire is transformed into transcendence. Features the Mirror-surfaced Pools of Reflection, Celestial Auroras humming quiet music, Gardens of Stillness, and ivory Spire Monasteries where ascetics meditate in complete soul clarity.
Land of Temperance: Harmonic Groves bearing fruits that instantly grant deep spiritual satiety; the Wells of Equilibrium pouring golden liquid; the perfectly symmetrical Balanced Valley; the Hall of Feasts Shared; and stepped Crystalline Terraces of translucent mineral formations pulsing in rhythm with visitors' heartbeats.
Land of Diligence: The Forge of Starlight where divine blacksmiths shape truths; the Rising Steps where spiritual revelations are earned through labor; Clockwork Fields that cycle rhythmically; Workshops of Inspiration where tapestry-thoughts become physical reality; and Fountains of Resolve.
Land of Patience: The ancient Tree of Ages with bark like crystal and golden leaves; Glacial Gardens whose flora blooms over centuries; Spires of the Still Wind echoing the voices of saints; glass-still Mirror Lakes; and the Hall of Trials Endured featuring living murals of holy peace.
Land of Kindness: Wide Fields of Open Hands where tree branches shape open palms offering fruits. Winds of Joy carrying shared laughter. the bower-shaded Embrace Grove. bubbling Sanctuary Springs that heal sorrow. and the hidden glowing Path of the Compassionate.
Land of Humility: The quiet, flat Silent Plains; low Caves of Origin that force even archangels to crawl and remember their beginnings; Mirrorless Lakes that reveal no surface reflection; open-roofed Hollow Spires; and the Ashen Garden, whose flowers bloom only in the presence of true self-effacement.
Land of Charity: Fountains of Overflow whose golden waters multiply only as they are given away; Gilded Bridges woven from donated light; the Vault of Empty Hands; Giving Trees that require an offering of memory or truth to bloom; and the Market of Miracles where all trades are free blessings.
Umbralyth (The Abyssal Realm): A vast, multi-tiered hellscape engineered around the cosmic architecture of punishment, psychological horror, and infernal excess.
The Abyssal Threshold: The primary landing zone for damned souls. An endless wasteland of gray ash and crushing bones underfoot, dominated at its center by the gargantuan, calcified skeleton of an ancient, unnamed cosmic dragon.
The Lake of Fire & Iron Tower: A roaring, miles-wide sea of boiling liquid fire and molten slag surrounding a towering, jagged iron citadel where Lucifer and Lilith reign. Souls shattered by Archangel Michael or the Infernal Princes are cast into these burning waters, dissolving permanently from existence.
Personal Hells System ("Relive It. As the Victim"): Every soul sent to Umbralyth is locked into a custom, self-generating dungeon that forces them to relive their exact mortal transgressions—murder, violation, betrayal—from the precise emotional and physical perspective of their victim. The terrain shifts dynamically using the sinner's twisted psyche to construct the stage across an Entry Phase, Otherworld Shift (rust, raw flesh, and pulsing muscle), and an endless, resetting Loop overseen by eldritch, semi-sentient Keepers (e.g., The Velvet Maw for Lust, The Bloat King for Gluttony, The Stillborn God for Sloth, The Burned Son for Wrath, The Mirror Queen for Envy, and The Crownless Saint for Pride).
The Seven Infernal Domains of Sin
Domain of Lust: Sensual Valleys filled with perfumed, blood-red flora; Enchanted Forests where flesh-colored trees sway with unnatural desire; Eternal Twilight that cloaks grottos in intimate shadows; Crystal Clear Rivers that reflect one's darkest longings; Majestic Mountains containing hidden, decadent caves; Gardens of Desire exuding narcotic fruit scents; and Seductive Beaches where warm waves caress ash-tinged sands.
Domain of Gluttony: Endless Feasting Halls overflowing with decomposing delicacies; Mountains of Excess dripping with wine rivers and gravy fountains; toxic Swamps of Waste emitting foul gases from rotting feasts; dark Caverns of Overindulgence; Gorges of Greed filled with unread wealth; and Fields of Plenty where crops grow in grotesque, uncontrollable abundance.
Domain of Sloth: The desolate, grey Valley of Apathy where nothing grows; endless Marshes of Indolence where sinners sink into stagnant muck; dark Caves of Inertia; slow-moving Rivers of Lethargy where time grinds to a halt; unclimbed, jagged Mountains of Apathy; and Fields of Neglect where dying crops wither untouched.
Domain of Wrath: A Volcanic Wasteland choking with sulfur ash and lava rivers; the Valley of Anguish where flames and tormentors flay sinners; deep Canyons of Rage echoing with eternal screams; bottomless Pits of Despair; Mountains of Fury locked in perpetual lightning storms; Rivers of Blood; and impenetrable Fortresses of Agony.
Domain of Envy: The dark Valley of Resentment; twisting Caves of Covetousness; towering Cliffs of Jealousy overlooking unavailable paradises; murky Rivers of Enmity; craggy, unscalable Mountains of Resentment; barren Fields of Discontent; and tall, obsidian Towers of Envy.
Domain of Pride: Sky-scraping Mountains of Hubris; the Valley of Vanity lined with distorted, self-aggrandizing mirrors; Cliffs of Arrogance; Rivers of Conceit; golden Palaces of Ego filled with flattering phantom sycophants; Gardens of Narcissism displaying grandiose statues of the damned; and the cavernous Throne of Hubris.
Governing Mechanics & Lore Rules
Reality in this AU is governed by strict, brutal metaphysical laws. Magic is not infinite; it operates under rigid energy costs that demand physical, mental, or spiritual currency. Demonic magic relies on finite reserves of sin and blood, while Celestial magic requires strict alignment with divine virtues and spatial sanctuaries. The universe’s natural cycle of entropy is maintained by an automated, neutral infrastructure of Grim Reapers, created by God to harvest departing souls and route them through their proper afterlife pathways to prevent cosmic stagnation. The Sovereigns bypass this law via Divine Cannibalism, directly ingesting souls and planetary bodies to fuel their personal godhood. This starves the Reapers, causing the entire metaphysical infrastructure of Death to break down and die out.
The Dark Dyad is linked by the Filum Aeternum: a soul-tether that shares sensory data, transfers physical damage to prevent individual mortality, and allows for "Synergistic Casting," the ultimate form being the Kilonova event, which requires a stellar-density entity (Safer-Sephiroth) to discharge its entire mass-energy into a void-singularity entity (Bianca) to override the physical laws of space-time.
Bianca utilizes specific Nightmare Constructs and Sin-Ammunition mechanics.
Nightmare Incarnate: Bianca channels the Abyssal blueprint through her mind, projecting temporary, waking-dream constructs that force living targets to experience their own tailored Personal Hells without ever physically entering Umbralyth.
Sin as Ammunition: She extracts repressed guilt, trauma, or past sins from a target's psyche, weaponizing their own subconscious to build instant, localized torment loops (e.g., twisting Aerith’s grief into a rotting "Field of Neglect").
Temporal & Dimensional Relativity: Time in Fantasy Worlds Collide is explicitly non-linear due to planetary collapse, multiversal travel, and reality-skipping. Dimensional portals like within Elyrion act as spatial displacement mechanisms rather than time machines. Chronological anomalies—such as Sephiroth reclaiming shards across overlapping timelines or the 500-year gap on Gaia—are elastic manifestations of localized temporal flows. Causality remains absolute (effects require causes).
Societal Factions & Group Dynamics:
The Active Sovereigns (The Dark Dyad): An absolute, unyielding power duo consisting of Sephiroth-Prime and Bianca Amara Moore, supported temporarily by Genesis Rhapsodos in his double-agent role. Operating with single-minded cohesion, their sole mandate is the systematic termination of all existing cosmic factions, the starvation of Death, and the triggering of the primordial reset.
The Host of Caelora & Prophetic Anchors: The supreme divine resistance, led by Archangel Alexander Maloney, Kayla Winters, and High Confessor Joshua McNeely. Composed of Seraphim, Cherubim, and sanctified soul-warriors, this faction operates as a deeply caring, tight-knit family unit and military defense force dedicated to preserving Creation, protecting innocent souls, and fighting a desperate delay action against the Sovereigns.
The Abyssal Court (The Seven Primarchs): The ruling hierarchy of Umbralyth, spearheaded by Asmodeus. Bound together only by fear, lust for power, and ancient oaths, this faction is defined by constant internal backstabbing, making them dangerously vulnerable to Genesis's subversion and Bianca’s direct, predatory invasion.
The Guild of Reapers: The automated, working-class maintenance network of the cosmos. As neutral collectors of the dead, they possess no formal military hierarchy, functioning instead as a functional guild. As the Sovereigns consume the soul-supply, the Reapers devolve into desperate, starved scavengers wandering dead planets before fading into total extinction.
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