#in the scenario that the planet stopped being allergic to j-cell sandwiches

[prismaticpichu]

Relating to the question I asked an hour or so ago.

What would Sephiroth's personal hell be like? What would it consent of? Like he finally passed on and they decided he needs to be punished for his sins.

Oh. Oh so it continues.

*flips Weenie Hut Jrs sign to closed*

In the midst of his shredded sanity, there was only one thing that Sephiroth truly clung to. Only one thing that mattered. Only one thing that kept any remnants of his old heart afloat, and that heart didn’t beat for himself.

It beat for Her.

Mother was everything to him. She was his reason for existence, his will to survive, the center of his universe amid the stars that he wanted to claim for Them. She solaced him; she spoke to him; she cradled any ghost of human emotion—human pain, human regret—and cocooned him in her warmth. She gave him the sole thing he always wanted, tended to the sole, lonely, throbbing yearning that had been sewn inside of him since the nebulous days of his childhood.

So, when the Planet finally had him in Its grasp, It stripped all of that away.

Sephiroth’s “Hell” would be nothing but an empty, endless expanse. There were no flames—not yet. No burning. No blood. No other presence. No warmth. No Her. No Mother.

Nothing.

And it was that hollow, engulfing loneliness that would cause Sephiroth to suffer the most. He would scream for Her, and receive no response. He would beg for her, and his pleas would be unheard. He would wander aimlessly, searching for her, and he would find nothing. He never would. He would wander the colorless, temperature-less plain encompassing him until his legs would give out—except they never would. He would just search. And search. And search. And search.

And search.

And search.

And search.

And listen for her voice

And feel for her pull.

And reach for her embrace.

“MOTHER!”

And find nothing.

In other words, it’s basically just this~