"I must destroy him before Terra's plan is activated, or my soul will no longer be my own!"


Zidane was the lucky one, the chosen, the favorite. The foolish boy still didn't know, whether through ignorance or no, what the main difference between them was. Kuja remembered the gurgling infant entrusted to his care, and the youth before him was a stranger, but the divide between them went back before Zidane was ever created. Kuja keenly remembered taking that which was not his by birth like a furtive thief.

Zidane never knew what it was like to live without a soul: Kuja did.