Disclaimer: I own nothing from FFVII, not the settings, not the characters, not the names. Nothing. I own absolutely nothing. It is all the property of the wonderful Square Enix.

Chaos stiffens the very moment control over his limbs becomes a fight to keep in his hands. He knew that feeling. He knew it well. And then the seed of command is planted in his head, hands curling into tight fists as he tries to resist, pain exploding in his chest as he does.

"Sephiroth. Run." His lover glances at him, that one brief glimpse of glowing eyes giving his silent question. Why?

"The Protomateria. Vincent is trying to control me. Run." Before I kill you. Please, Sephiroth, run before this breaks me again. And there they were. AVALANCHE. Gazes hard and weapons ready, slowly moving closer. Red eyes are focused solely on Chaos, brow furrowed in concentration. Another command hurled at him and another stab of pain when he refuses, enough to knock him off his feet. Chaos drops to his knees with a growl, claws digging into the earth and fingers curled into a fist, nails drawing blood from his palm.

Kill Sephiroth. Kill Sephiroth. Kill him. He's a threat. End him.

His body shudders and wings shiver, flaring up from his back and lashing at the air in response to his anger at the commands. Why were they doing this? Why, when Sephiroth had proven himself to no longer be a threat to the Planet so long as Chaos was in his life? Why?

Chaos groans when Masamune appears in his lover's hand, reaching up shakily to grab the blade and tug. His skin splits open around the sharp metal but he ignores the pain in favour of meeting Sephiroth's eyes again. His own are flickering wildly between bright gold and onyx, testament to his war against the Protomateria's control over him.

"Please, Sephiroth. Run. Before I kill you." It's a broken plea, because they both know the truth. Even if Sephiroth flees, Chaos will eventually catch up to him. So long as Vincent keeps repeating the command he will eventually kill his silver-haired lover.

But if he runs… There is a small chance, a miniscule chance, that he could survive. If he could keep distance between them and double back to kill Vincent…

On one hand Chaos would always hold his former host as a dear friend… But on the other hand there was Sephiroth. His balance. The one who knew every little detail of his life, from the good to the darkest parts Chaos would always be ashamed of. And now he had to choose between them.

Sephiroth launches a fireball straight at Vincent. While it won't harm him it is enough to break his concentration for one precious moment as instinct dictates he dodge the spell. One moment is all they need to act. A gloved hand briefly touches Chaos' arm, and then Sephiroth does indeed run. Only for his lover. If the situation were different he would stand and fight, but if Chaos loses the battle against Vincent's command, his lover will kill him. Something Sephiroth knows will break Chaos into fragments of his former self, a shadow, a husk. Even though he would not be witness to it, it stabs at him, hurts him. He can't let that happen. Not to Chaos. Not to the one he knows would be a gentle soul had Minerva not bound him to a destiny so dark it makes him sick to think of it.

So he runs. Even though he believes it futile, Sephiroth does what Chaos begs of him. He knows who his target is. If he gets a chance to strike the man down he will take it.

Vincent Valentine has to die; because allowing him to live will result in Chaos perishing inside.

Barrett is the first to die, crushed when a building collapses on top of him, killing dozens more in the process.

Yuffie is next. Poisoned on the night she speaks to her people as Queen of Wutai.

Reeve dies in an experiment gone wrong, electrocuted and fried when machinery malfunctions.

Something takes out the airship's engines. When it crashes, quickly engulfed in fire and smoke, all on board are killed. Amongst the dead is one Cid Highwind.

No-one knows how Cloud died. They just know his head turned up in a parcel left on the doorstep of Seventh Heaven for Tifa to find.

The barmaid's life came to an unexpected end when a tree uprooted in the middle of a storm and hit her car. She was rushed to hospital, but she died two and a half hours later from severe internal bleeding the surgeons couldn't halt fast enough.

Nanaki, also known as Red XIII, was left alone to carry on his life as he pleased, starting his own family and protecting them from any harm. He was the only one absent that day.

Vincent Valentine stands facing his death. He doesn't try to fight, doesn't try to run. He has long since come to accept his time is drawing to a close and now Death has come to collect his blackened soul. Something in him twists and breaks, splinters and bleeds as he looks upon that pale, haunted face. Dark shadows bruise beneath empty, soulless eyes, the flame of amber irises long since extinguished and leaving behind frozen liquid. Chaos comes to him without armour or leather. He comes as he is, the demon once given hope now without light. Broken and twisted, consumed by darkness and swallowed by grief.

He expected to see hatred in that dead gaze, but there is nothing. Chaos' eyes are empty, cold, as lifeless as can possibly be. No expression on his face and no twitch of his lips in a grim smile or exposure of fangs. Nothing.

And Vincent knows, in that span of time where Death Penalty is raised and trained on his head, that he made a mistake that day thirteen years ago. He thought he had sinned before, prior to the last confrontation with Sephiroth. He was wrong.

The only sin to his name was the one which would haunt him so long as his soul remained, be it in the Lifestream or reincarnated in another age.

Vincent Valentine was the one to break Chaos. He ruined every aspect of the demon's personality until nothing remained but an empty shell, following Minerva's orders. By Vincent's hand, Chaos' heart had been ripped out and destroyed and by his will the demon's fight was drowned.

And now Death had come to collect his soul.