LOCATION: EDGE OF MADNESS, NORTH EASTERN CONTINENT, WORLD B.

OCCASION: ONE DAY BEFORE THE FINAL CYCLE

"How much do you remember?" The Hero asked.

There were ten of them, standing in the rubble of Chaos' throne, atop a burning island, floating above the rest of World B. Far below them was an ocean, but the island was so vast that none could see it. It seemed to stretch on forever. Not a one of them could spy its edge among the ruins of the God of Discord's palace.

The ten were, in order, the Hero, dressed in red armor with red hair; the Liegeman, armed to the teeth, but with a kind voice; the Youth, armored in blue and purple; the Knight, gentle in his touch, but fierce in blows; the Wanderer, who did not seem wholly concerned by the topic; the Enchantress, with long green hair and a bright red dress; the Soldier, who carried a heavy sword; the Lion, so called for the mane on his jacket and the proud expression on his face; the Thief with his long tail, cunning fingers and sly look; and the Athlete, who could not stand still.

"Bits and pieces," the Enchantress said, running a hand through her hair nervously, "but I can't make sense of it. I remember being married, but I also remember being alone. I remember someone named Vaan, but sometimes I think his name is Locke."

"The dream is conflicting with your real memories," The Hero said. "Vaan was one of our number once."

"I remember him, too!" The Youth said, "But I don't remember what happened to him."

"I remember being betrayed," The Knight muttered, "I remember Kain, and that he stabbed me in the back. Again. How many times have I forgiven him, and still he betrays me?"

"I remember asking Cosmos for help," The Soldier mused, "I don't seem to remember getting it."

"This is what you're going to have to deal with," The Hero explained, "We're waking up from a deep sleep, and the dreams there will seem real to us. Someone didn't want us to wake up, and doesn't want us to go home."

"Let's get this out of the way first, then," The Wanderer said, "Waking up and going home are the better choices?"

"Of course they are," the Knight blurted. The others stared at him, waiting for a response, and at last he, feeling sheepish, said, "I think I had a family back home. I don't want to just dream about love, I want to live it."

"There's a corny answer if ever I heard one," teased the Lion, "Are we going to fight for something so unbelievably cheesy? We sound like characters from a children's story."

"What if the real world hurts more than the dream one?" the Soldier asked. "I remember that something there made me very sad."

"Then face that pain like a man," the Liegeman said, "and go past it. We can't grow if we don't feel pain. I'd sooner live a life of suffering and strife knowing that my sacrifices were real than live in a bliss I knew was false."

"Right," the Knight chimed in, "I want what's real, even if it is bitter. False beauty isn't for me."

"I remember," the Enchantress began, "I remember something you said." The Soldier looked at her in confusion as she spoke, "Something about a world full of flowers. About how we'd make that our dream, even if we couldn't remember our own. So let's keep that our dream! If the real world hurts, and is hard to bear, we'll just plant flowers over our pain and keep going!"

"What rose has no thorns, anyway?" The Liegeman asked.

"Then it's settled," the Youth declared, "We all want to go home, and live in the real world, even if it means we won't see each other again."

"We'll always see each other," the Athlete said softly, "whenever we look at the flowers."

"I'm glad you think so," the Hero said at last. "Because ours is a strange path now. Someone wanted us to stay asleep, and we have to find that person and stop them from sending us back. But there's more to this fight than that. We have Chaos to deal with, and the ones who started this war in the first place, and more. Listen well, friends; we have to organize and act swiftly. There's still much I have to share with you. You need to know about a man called The Scholar and something called Omega."

"What about Cosmos?" The Youth asked.

The others turned to look at the Hero, waiting for his word. Cosmos had been the banner to which they'd rallied before. She had been their Goddess of Hope. More than that, all of them had seen how strongly he'd felt for Her. What was their leader's word on the woman who had brought their team together?

"Cosmos, too, will answer for Her wrongs. Gods have mercy on Her, for I do not know if I still can."