Sephiroth's eyebrows raised. 'Not materia,' he mused. 'Some other form of power.
'Is it your ambition that gives you strength? If that is so, then I declare mine: To do as my mother wills.'
With that, he raised his arm, revealing what he had known was there all along but had forgotten until now: Materia. Glowing balls, embedded in his flesh beneath his leather sleeve.
'Fire,' he said, a jet of flame spraying from his hand; Masamune swung around to catch the droplets of water, flinging them towards Cao Cao. 'Ice,' he said, as the drops froze into needles.
He remembered despair. What it was to have one's own attack used against him.