004 [audio]
So now we're angels... Mm. Maybe Mother would like that. [Maybe she would be proud.]
The people here keep crowding me. They talk about Mother and angels and blessings and they don't know when to keep their hands to themselves. If I threaten them, they leave me alone for a while, but... tch.
[Kadaj sounds distant, lost in thought, as though he wasn't really talking about what he had planned to, but rather simply talking to fill the dead air while he gathers his thoughts. There's a short silence, the faint echo of footsteps heard just barely through his NV.
He had felt Sephiroth the moment he arrived, a suffocating influence that swamped his mind, impossible to ignore. But it wasn't an outside influence. Rather, it was as though he had borrowed a small section of someone else's mind for a short while, and they had suddenly and effortlessly reclaimed it... and perhaps that was exactly what it was. It felt so disturbingly like Reunion, as though his mind suddenly wasn't his own any more. As though it never had been. But this time, he still had his body, his own separate form, and to some extent, his own will.
He couldn't keep anything from Sephiroth; not his thoughts, or his memories. Sephiroth knew about his childish rebellion, about his determination to prove to Mother that he was just as worthy of her love as her favourite son. He knew, and Kadaj was certain he could feel the man laughing at him.
What could he do about Sephiroth? What should he do? They were supposed to bring him back. If he was already here, where did that leave them? Did that mean he was no longer necessary? If Mother already had her favourite, the strongest, the original, would she need them at all?
Kadaj had been avoiding him. Recoiling from the pressure on his mind. Trying to pretend it wasn't really there. But at the same time, he was curious. He had never met the man, even though he had briefly been him. He didn't even know what he looked like, beyond the obvious conclusion that he must look something like them. Sephiroth had always been the pale shadow briefly glimpsed from the corner of his eye, that presence he felt just behind him that raised the hairs on the back of his neck- always gone when he turned to look. Haunting him. Who was he, this man that was him and yet not him?
Sephiroth hadn't come to him, hadn't called him out over the network, hadn't forced his will on Kadaj's mind beyond what was natural. Was he waiting? Waiting for Kadaj to take the first step. As though he knew that sooner or later, the Remnant would come to him. As though Kadaj's puerile defiance didn't worry him, meant nothing to him. Somehow that knowing, as much as it frustrated and angered the Remnant, was fascinating.]
Brother... Sephiroth. [Uncertain, curious, wary, strained with a poorly-affected confidence that if anything only made him seem all the more troubled. Altogether far too child-like.] I want to speak with you.
[It had been inevitable, in the end, that Kadaj would be drawn to him. Because after all, wasn't that the very nature of Jenova's children?]
The people here keep crowding me. They talk about Mother and angels and blessings and they don't know when to keep their hands to themselves. If I threaten them, they leave me alone for a while, but... tch.
[Kadaj sounds distant, lost in thought, as though he wasn't really talking about what he had planned to, but rather simply talking to fill the dead air while he gathers his thoughts. There's a short silence, the faint echo of footsteps heard just barely through his NV.
He had felt Sephiroth the moment he arrived, a suffocating influence that swamped his mind, impossible to ignore. But it wasn't an outside influence. Rather, it was as though he had borrowed a small section of someone else's mind for a short while, and they had suddenly and effortlessly reclaimed it... and perhaps that was exactly what it was. It felt so disturbingly like Reunion, as though his mind suddenly wasn't his own any more. As though it never had been. But this time, he still had his body, his own separate form, and to some extent, his own will.
He couldn't keep anything from Sephiroth; not his thoughts, or his memories. Sephiroth knew about his childish rebellion, about his determination to prove to Mother that he was just as worthy of her love as her favourite son. He knew, and Kadaj was certain he could feel the man laughing at him.
What could he do about Sephiroth? What should he do? They were supposed to bring him back. If he was already here, where did that leave them? Did that mean he was no longer necessary? If Mother already had her favourite, the strongest, the original, would she need them at all?
Kadaj had been avoiding him. Recoiling from the pressure on his mind. Trying to pretend it wasn't really there. But at the same time, he was curious. He had never met the man, even though he had briefly been him. He didn't even know what he looked like, beyond the obvious conclusion that he must look something like them. Sephiroth had always been the pale shadow briefly glimpsed from the corner of his eye, that presence he felt just behind him that raised the hairs on the back of his neck- always gone when he turned to look. Haunting him. Who was he, this man that was him and yet not him?
Sephiroth hadn't come to him, hadn't called him out over the network, hadn't forced his will on Kadaj's mind beyond what was natural. Was he waiting? Waiting for Kadaj to take the first step. As though he knew that sooner or later, the Remnant would come to him. As though Kadaj's puerile defiance didn't worry him, meant nothing to him. Somehow that knowing, as much as it frustrated and angered the Remnant, was fascinating.]
Brother... Sephiroth. [Uncertain, curious, wary, strained with a poorly-affected confidence that if anything only made him seem all the more troubled. Altogether far too child-like.] I want to speak with you.
[It had been inevitable, in the end, that Kadaj would be drawn to him. Because after all, wasn't that the very nature of Jenova's children?]