The trick to Wedge's survival is that he hijacks on Sephiroth's spirit in the lifestream and becomes Wedgeroth, the one-winged cat guy.
I'm calling it now: since destiny has been
literally killed and anything is possible, this is what happens.
Wedge, having been crushed under Sector 7's collapsing plate, dies a hero's death. His final act was to toss an armful of kitties the last few feet necessary to clear them out of harm's way, before being flattened into the Midgar soil.
As his soul departs his mangled corpse, he sees nothing but absolute darkness. The absence of anything is oppressive and infinite. Just as the tinge of despair begins to tickle at the edges of his mind, far off in the distance he sees a faint greenish light. It calls to him. He floats closer to it, and the light grows stronger, warmer. He can't say why, but he knows that it just feels...
right. This is where he belongs. He's coming home. As he draws near, he can see lazily drifting tendrils of spirit energy, inviting him closer, promising relief from this tiresome existence. "
I hope my cats made it out okay," he thinks as he closes the gap. "
I'll see you again one day. Everyone's getting belly rubs!"
He reaches out a finger, and a single stream of energy splits off from the others, reaching towards him. The warmth is so strong now, washing over him, and now
through him, relaxing him to his very core. "
The guys are never gonna believe this," he says to himself, as his fingertip gently makes contact--
The light vanishes.
Wedge snaps his head up, as if waking from a dream. He's still floating, but it's not... this is... something's
wrong. "
Wha-? Where am I?"
In the distance, a low chuckle.
"
Hello, Wedge. It's so nice to finally meet you in the flesh, so to speak." Wedge turns toward the voice, and is greeted by a face framed by long, platinum-white hair, a knowing, thin-lipped smile, and cat-like blue-green eyes.
"
I have so many wonderful things to show you."