Many mistake a "supernova" for the birth of a new star. In truth, it marks the death of a colossal one—eight to twenty-five times the mass of our sun. After burning for eons, its energy collapses inward, triggering a final, cataclysmic blaze. In that instant, its brilliance surges to ten billion times that of the sun, expanding at thousands of kilometers per second—sometimes swelling to several times the size of the solar system itself. Then, slowly, it contracts, leaving behind a lifeless white dwarf or neutron star.
A supernova is not a beginning, but a star's last, defiant cry.
Sephiroth, though a Gold-tier warrior and once nearly divine—capable of devouring worlds—stood on a planet barely a millionth the size of the sun. Compared to a supernova, his power was a grain of dust adrift in a cosmic storm. Even if he ascended to godhood and unleashed every ounce of strength, he would still fall short of a supernova's fury by countless orders of magnitude.
Yet in the world of *Final Fantasy*, planets possess souls. Stars, though lacking sentient will, still harbor vast, primal consciousness—born over millions of years. When a star dies, its will peaks and erupts into the void, a final broadcast to the universe: "I existed."
Sephiroth's technique—**Supernova: Abyssal Blade**—was forged from ancient technology passed down by the Celestials, extracted from the planetary will itself. He calculated the time and location of a real supernova, intercepted the stellar consciousness radiating outward, and recreated that cosmic explosion within his own mind. Then he channeled it into his blade, infusing his swordsmanship with a force that defied reason.
His mental power alone could manifest living thought-forms. When that same energy was infused with the dying will of a star, it birthed a "supernova thought-form"—a spiritual echo of cosmic annihilation. Though only a fragment, it was enough to unleash an explosion fiercer than nuclear fusion within a hundred-meter radius.
To be struck by this blade was to meet a hydrogen bomb at point-blank range. Even the Angels from *Evangelion*, shielded by their Absolute Territory, might not survive—let alone warriors who barely scraped into the lower ranks of Gold-tier.
As Sephiroth raised his blade, Cloud, Vincent, and Magnor saw not a sword, but a burning star. The sheer scale warped their perception. It felt as if the star hung motionless, and they were rising toward it—drawn into an inverted inferno, a golden-red chasm suspended in the heavens. The illusion paralyzed them. They couldn't move. Couldn't think. Couldn't escape.
From afar, their allies watched helplessly as the blade descended.
And then—someone they'd all forgotten appeared behind Sephiroth.
**"Gate of Babylon!"**
Golden Flash, clad in radiant armor, had arrived.
Hundreds of magical weapons poured from a crimson portal, raining toward Sephiroth. The spectacle was grand—but the power wasn't. Wrapped in supernova light, Sephiroth vaporized every weapon before it could touch him.
But hidden among the futile attacks was a single trump card.
A blob of black, semi-transparent sludge emerged from a burning spear. It ignored the supernova aura and struck Sephiroth's body.
**"All the World's Evil—got him!"** Golden Flash shouted, ecstatic.
The strange substance didn't harm Sephiroth. It simply merged into him. Yet his expression changed. The perfect arc of his blade faltered. A crack appeared in his form.
Cloud, Vincent, and Magnor were seasoned fighters. They reacted instantly, dodging the blow at the last possible moment.
**BOOM—**
The air split with a deafening roar. From Sephiroth's blade, light burst forth—blinding, searing, a hundredfold brighter than the midday sun. Heat surged. Space itself seemed to warp.
A skyscraper over a hundred meters tall was vaporized. Not a trace of steel or concrete remained. Just a crater, a hundred meters wide.
Shockwaves tore through the city. Dust and debris filled the air. Buildings collapsed. Though the trio had dodged the direct hit, the aftermath still caught them. Blood sprayed as they were hurled through the air.
The summon beasts suffered the most.
Both Tifa's original summons and Sephiroth's corrupted ones were obliterated. Not by the explosion itself, but by the overwhelming will of a dying star. Summons are thought-forms—spiritual echoes of powerful creatures from the planet's past. But no planetary life-form can match the final will of a star ten times the size of the sun. They vanished instantly. It would take a long time before they could be summoned again.
Even Sephiroth couldn't fully contain that power. He could only unleash it for a moment—as a finishing move. He couldn't wield it freely.
Tifa, Barret, and the others weren't hurt. With the summons gone, they were free to focus on Sephiroth himself.
But Sephiroth looked… off.
He stood silent, blade in hand, silver hair trembling. The Angel of Destruction—untouched by three Gold-tier warriors—was clearly not himself.
The black sludge—**All the World's Evil**—came from the corrupted Holy Grail in the *Fate/stay night* universe. It's a mass of humanity's darkest emotions: pain, sorrow, envy, hatred, despair. Anyone touched by it is consumed.
Golden Flash hadn't obtained the full Gate of Babylon, but he'd acquired a fragment of this evil. He hid it inside a weapon, saving it as a last resort.
And it worked.
Before the battle, the Dark Oath trio had discussed Sephiroth's nature. As Jenova's heir, he was far beyond human. Jenova, a cosmic predator, devours planets. Her mind operates on a level humans can't comprehend. If this were the original Jenova, she'd be immune to all negative emotion.
But Sephiroth is a hybrid—part human, part Jenova. His mind still functions on a human level. "All the World's Evil" couldn't corrupt him, but it could throw him into mental chaos. Sephiroth may embody despair, destruction, and consumption—but that doesn't mean he can endure the pain he inflicts.
**"You're dead! The Gold-tier reward is mine!"** Golden Flash shouted, charging in.
He drew a pristine snow-colored nodachi and swung for Sephiroth's neck.
The blade flashed. Blood sprayed.
But it was Golden Flash's head that flew.
**…How?**
He never got to ask.
Sephiroth gave a cold smile and said softly, **"Thanks. Without your help, I wouldn't be standing here."**
His voice had changed.
**"You… are you Rime now?"** Magnor asked, sensing something with his chi.
**"Yeah. That guy tried to mess with Sephiroth's mind. It worked. His thoughts are a mess. So I slipped back in."**
It was Jack Harper speaking—through Sephiroth's body.
**"Honestly, I thought I'd only be able to nudge him from time to time. This little accident made things much easier."**
He moved fast.
Masamune slashed toward Magnor.
**"Hmph. You think a pretty face makes you Sephiroth?"** Magnor roared, rising to fight.
He feared Sephiroth. But Jack Harper? Not so much. Same power, sure—but no experience, no technique. With three Gold-tier fighters and a handful of Silver-tier allies, they could take him down and finish the mission.
Reality crushed that hope.
Jack's blade forced Magnor back. His technique was sharp, fluid—almost identical to Sephiroth's.
**"Sorry. I'm sharing Sephiroth's memories now. My style's different, but the power's the same."**
He knocked Magnor aside, clashed twice with Cloud, then raised his hand.
**"Ice Grip."**
A blast of cold—a hundred times stronger than before—sent Cloud flying. Jack turned, summoned a sapphire orb, and froze Vincent mid-charge.
With Sephiroth's body, Jack's power had skyrocketed. Ice Apex Mahā flowed effortlessly. He moved like a storm.
He didn't rush to kill Vincent. His priority was the Dark Oath squad.
He flashed forward, chasing Magnor. Masamune gleamed.
**"Iaido."**
**"Tenfold Martial Path—Invincible in All Directions!"**
Magnor split into ten shadows, trying to escape.
But Jack had Sephiroth's battle instincts. He spotted the real body instantly. One slash disrupted the technique.
Then—**Eightfold Flash.**
Eight rapid strikes hit Magnor's previous wounds. His defenses cracked. Blood sprayed. His arms and a leg flew off.
**"Time to say goodbye—Hell Gate!"**
Jack drove Masamune through Magnor's chest, pinning him to the ground. Sword energy exploded Sword energy exploded outward in a violent burst. The air rang with metallic shrieks, like steel cables snapping under strain. Magnor's body was torn apart—shredded by the blade's fury. Blood and flesh scattered. Not a single piece remained intact.
**"Boss!"** Lady Night cried out in disbelief. Her voice trembled. The man she admired most had been annihilated in mere seconds.
Jack Harper exhaled slowly. Magnor had mastered seven martial disciplines from *Storm Riders*, and could temporarily elevate his power to Gold-tier. He had been Jack's greatest threat. Without Sephiroth's body, Jack would never have stood a chance.
**"Now then… just one left."**
His gaze turned toward Flora's awakened form—where Lady Night was hiding.
**"Ahhh—!"** Lady Night screamed. In the blink of an eye, the Dark Oath squad had been reduced to one. With Magnor gone, she had no hope of defeating Jack Harper. She turned and fled.
**"Hmph. You think you can run?"** Jack sneered, his figure already in pursuit.
Flora's awakened body—after repeated semi-awakenings—had reached the level of the Silver-Eyed Lion King. Her speed was blinding. But against Jack's overwhelming power, she was quickly overtaken.
Tifa and the other heroes tried to intercept him, but Jack ignored them. He flashed past, closing the distance in seconds. Two or three kilometers away, he finally caught up.
**"Tch!"** Lady Night realized escape was impossible. She gave up on fighting, dismissed Flora's awakened form, and reverted to her original body. The towering half-human white stag vanished, revealing Flora's pale, naked figure—like carved jade.
**"If you've got the guts, kill this sword maiden. Then I'll admit defeat,"** Lady Night said coldly.
Her voice came not from Flora's mouth, but from the blood-red bat-shaped tattoo on her body. She was gambling that Jack wouldn't have the heart to strike. If she could stall long enough, the mission world would end. Jack couldn't take Sephiroth's body into the next world. She might still survive.
Jack found the situation strangely surreal. Facing him were Sephiroth and Flora—characters from the story. But controlling them were himself and Lady Night—two Reincarnators. It felt like a four-person puppet show.
But he wasn't fazed by her threat.
**"You think that'll stop me? You really think I gave up my body to Sephiroth for nothing?"**
He raised a finger and pointed at Flora's body.
**"You're just a Bronze-tier Reincarnator. Controlling a Silver-tier like Flora must drain your mental energy. That's why you didn't dare possess Clare, the protagonist of *Claymore*, or touch the Abyssal Ones. You can't even split off a bat avatar right now. So if I erase your mental energy… can you stay inside Flora?"**
Lady Night's face twisted in panic.
**"Stop—!"**
But Jack didn't hesitate.
**"Get out of Flora's body, Angel Without a Heart."**