Piece by piece, fingerprint by fingerprint attached. Jack continued to seek the true form of the glass fragments.
The edge of the shard twinkle, the claps between the magically stitched sides of the pieces became more and more peaceful to his ears. Jack was entranced to the process, as he didn't realize the somber yet hopeful rhythm of a violin accompanied him through this jigsaw ordeal.
Jack threw a couple of jolly yet silly jokes there and there together with some quips about his memorable past, hoping that it would make Sephiroth worry less. Just like a parental figure who was always telling their child that everything will be okay.
It wasn't on purpose, much likely. But the feeling of guilt of carrying the fate of both of them made Jack a little bit cautious and sensitive, especially to his friend who had already accompanied him for such a long time.
Sephiroth took the hint, even though an intelligent machinery like him was having a hard time comprehending complicated human speeches.
Despite all of the ordeal that happened a few minutes ago, Jack made it like it had never happened and went on with his optimistic attitude as he tried to complete every glass piece.
More or less, it was mostly about Jack accepting the truth and the past. By embracing that they exist, Jack moved forward relentlessly.
"And the final piece."
[That took a while, it's good that there isn't any time limit. Ain't that right? Mister Roundhouse?]
"Ahahah." Jack played with the thinly long glass fragments with his fingers. "The story of my barely forgettable past. Quite a character development if you think about it."
[I think you would still be going to roundhouse your oppressive female boss if you had one in this life. Don't assume that you're already going on a character development yet.]
"Old time, Sephiroth. Old time."
Jack then put the final piece into the last absence place of the puzzle.
A cling chimed to his ears as the shiny glue of light immediately patched the fragment within its place.
All of the fragments make up the entirety of a big mirror with glowing edges. It was large enough to accommodate the reflection of an elephant by itself.
Jack looked at himself, lightly grinning with both curiosity and confusion.
He noticed his tattered set of equipment. Not too damaged but looking at his face once again, he still couldn't believe that someone with a face this charming was him.
At first, there was nothing other than his reflection. Then, a strange gush of wind disrupted his concentration.
He tried to blink and shelter his eyes with his wrist. In a second, his vision slipped from the fabric of his jacket and glimpsed another unknown figure that replaced his position in the mirror.
It was a rather feminine figure with a slightly taller height than his current vessel. She had long and wavy dark-purple hair with gleaming and vertical yellow streaks running up from the bottom. Her skin was white and lifeless like that of a doll. Jack could see many puppet-like joints on every section of her limbs.
Her eyes were droopy yet fierce with the pupils' color of pale grey with dark sclera. Unlike Jack, she looked extremely moody and dissatisfied. She wore a white blouse with ruffled sleeves and a collar, with a red tie. Her torso could be seen tucked into the waist part of her pants. Her soles was protected with a pair of leather boots.
There were many standout details that Jack could notice. Such as the abyss gaping hole that shaped like a heart behind the wide expansion of her red tie, or even the walking cane that she leaned her right hand on, with numerous protruding yellow eyes could be glimpsed from its body.
But the most peculiar thing of them all, was how there was an image of four spanning tendrils with the texture of crayon growing from her back. It looked unconnected to the realistic image because of its different textures that could be imagined to be scribbled by a child.
Regardless of the otherworldly and creepy nature, each of them had its own distinctive colors.
Starting from the most left to the right, there was a holy tendril of white, a fiery tendril of red, a ghostly tendril of black, and a mysterious tendril of pale.
With all details together, it made a depressing and somber figure of loneliness, bearing the responsibility of power onto her shoulder.
Neither Jack nor Sephiroth knew the meaning of this reflection
Who was that figure? And how it related to him was mind boggling at minimum. Although the vision didn't last long as the reflection immediately shifted into someone else with a quick sweep of darkness within the frame.
It was a short humanoid made out of darkness. Its appearance was uncanny to Jack. Just like the vision of the four tendrils, the entity looked like it could be animated with a delicate scribble of dark crayon with a clear yet eerie pair of white eyes, gazing at Jack.
Both Jack and Sephiroth were wordless at this sight. Slowly, the dark humanoid entity approached and placed its palm on its side of the mirror.
A short moment after, the web of thunderous pattern emerged from the place where the entity placed its palm, revealing and connecting what was on the other side to this plane of existence.
The melody of the violin abruptly stopped, and the silence loomed in. The mirror crumbled, returning into its former form of numerous fragments. All shall return to the glass of memory, faint and forgotten.
Within the pile of shards, there was still one fragment that held its reflective property of a mirror. But it didn't reflect the current angle that it was laid upon.
Because it was an entirely different side of this subconscious realm.
What was within it was another figure of darkness. Just like the one that was approaching Jack from the mirror, but smaller.
This figure within the shard felt lonely.
Until a smoke manifested in front of the small darkness. The looming child looked up, and widely opened its pair of white eyes in anguish curiosity.
"... Who are you?" said the childish darkness.
The smoke didn't respond immediately, for it also pity the child of darkness.
After a silence, the smoke slowly responded, revealing a raspy yet gentle voice.
"I'm the forbidden, the fruit of regret. But for you, my child. I'm the 'Mother'."
The child tried to process the information. Within its mind, there was the voice of someone, echoing again and again, until its memory was finally refilled.
The manifestation of darkness then firmly stood.
"Then what do you know about me?" said the short figure with a stern and cautious voice.
"I know everything about you, Cruciatus."