Even as Cloud shakes his head, coming up from the dent he's left in the wall that technically should have just broken, something inside him is calming, clearing. All the doubt, the pain, the confusion and the hopelessness just - disappears. His thoughts crystallize and he's leaping forward without having to think. Without having to doubt. This is what he does. This is what he's here for. Protect. Defend. Destroy.

Leviathan is fast, faster than it should be, and in the small enclosed space it's everywhere, teeth, tail, water. Cloud meets it head on, moving with habits that are ingrained by now and so used to fighting with Yuffie that he's always aware of where she is in the room and doesn't hold back out of worry. He won't hit her. They're a better team than that. Something lashes out at him and he brings his sword up and around to meet it. Part of a whisker or tentacle or whatever those are near its mouth goes flying. And as his blade parts the rubbery flesh a familiar voice booms from the wound:

"Style...? Dictate...? Throwin' around all those fancy words... You're a miserable excuse for a daughter!"