Awake

Zone II

It was still dawn when Lightning walked into the Two's camp. She didn't intend to disturb anyone on her way through, so she tried not to make too much noise. As she moved down the road though, gravel crunched lightly underfoot.

The l'Cie was leisurely sauntering up to the exit when someone cleared his throat from beside her. She turned.

"Lightning," Firion called as he walked up to her.

"Firion," Lightning greeted.

"You're up early," Firion observed. At this, the woman casually rested one hand on her hip. Firion hoped to get some conversation out of her, but he wasn't very good at this.

"So are you," she was her reply, not offering much.

"Well, I was injured. So, I went to bed a little earlier than usual..." Firion attempted to continue the conversation, nervously scratching the back of his head. Admittedly, he was a little intimidated by her, but he pushed on.

"H-How about you?" Firion asked.

"I always wake up early," Lightning remarked. Firion sensed there was another half to that sentence that Lightning didn't say.

"Is it because of your military training?" Firion decided to press further. At this, the woman paused. She wasn't annoyed yet, and could probably stand to let others know more about herself. And it wasn't really a secret... So, she supposed there wasn't any harm in answering.

"No, even before the Guardian Corps, I..." Lightning wasn't sure how to put it.

"I guess I've just always enjoyed peaceful walks at dawn," she phrased it.

"Oh. How nice," Firion sputtered, "In that case, don't let me keep you."

Lightning gave a slight smile.

"See ya," she replied, before turning back toward her walk. At first, Firion kicked himself for not offering to walk with her. But after thinking on it, decided he made the right choice in letting Lightning have her 'me-time'.


Atrium East Wing

When Tyro's eyes fluttered open, he was alone. He looked around and recognized the medical wing. It was rarely ever used, but someone had come and cleaned it up; dusted the room. White curtains blew in the slight breeze from the slits in the window. Sunlight burned Tyro's eyes, but it also felt good. He felt alive.

The child, though weary and achey, he smiled. Tyro thought about his soldiers for a while. He liked to do that. They were his pantheon. He could come up with lots of fun setups. It was the whole point.

"Maybe I'll build a team around Cid Raines and Alphinaud..." Tyro whispered. Alphinaud was whiny and spoke funny, but he was also quite the caster. And none could deny the magical prowess the two of them had with their burst relics.

Dauntless, Tyro took a step off of the bed. Ignoring the pain in his muscles, he soldiered to the door. The only sound that could be heard were the boy's slippers brushing against the tile. Slow scrapes echoed throughout the halls.

Dr. Mog and many of the Hero Records visited Tyro since his hospitalization. So, he wasn't alone right now because he was unloved or something. Tyro simply chose an opportune time to wake up. Unintentionally, of course. But the child was very happy to have his thoughts to himself.

"I want to bring Fujin up to snuff..." he muttered to himself. Tyro sunk quite a portion of his treasures into ninjas. He was, after all, still a boy at heart. He still had difficulty with bringing any of his ninjas to their fullest potential. But he was definitely getting there with Shadow and Edge.

"Tyro!" came a yell. A woman's voice. Authoritative yet caring. A white cape fluttered in the air as Celes Chere ran through the arches. Underneath her fierce exterior, she was quite attached, maybe even dependent on the boy. With each step of her boots along the polished floor, the sound of her heels reverberated around them. Her stride and form created steady, even knocks; unsurprising of her military training. Upon reaching Tyro, she halted and fell to one knee.

"Tyro! You're up!" Celes began, "Should you be moving?" Without answering, Tyro continued to drag his feet across the floor, side-stepping the Ex-General.

He wanted to take the time to assuage her concerns, as she was special to him. But he was young, too focused on himself. Tunnel-vision set in.

"How many days are left of the Dissidia event?" he questioned instead, still moving. Celes turned to face the boy with a smile.

'Thank goodness, he's fine,' she thought. With a nod, the warrior stood at attention.

"The Ultimate floors just opened up, and we've cleared the way up until that point. We still have time," she assured as she followed along.

"Eegad! ...Well, then we've revealed more relic lore correct? Take a hundred gems to the pedestal for me, pleeease?" Tyro requested. At this, Celes bowed and strode away. He was hopeful, but not completely invested.

Without stopping, the child made his way forward, excitedly stumbling across the foray.

'There was still much to be done!'


Zone VIII

The SeeDs were systematic and organized. Squall commanded his troops fairly and with few orders. But they were all so well-trained, they were quite capable of keeping themselves in check. This was even truer of Seifer's gang, who took it upon themselves to patrol or stand watch for errant records making a fuss (though, it was a unique way of bullying, electing themselves as something akin to hall monitors). Selphie was perhaps a bit energetic, but she played around in other zones, particularly with Rikku. Perhaps Rinoa was unruly, as she hadn't had any real training. But she was the camp's princess, treated with extra favor by just about everyone there (except the girls). This meant Seifer's disagreements here were often with Zell, who had a problem with volume control. Even in ordinary conversation, it seemed like Zell might flare up into yelling about anything.

Squall awoke slowly. He had recovered from his previous runs at the dungeons. He looked to his left and observed Rinoa beside him, snoozing peacefully. He reached up to brush a strand of hair from her face. She didn't wake from this; she was probably the heaviest sleeper in the entire zone.

He got up and dressed. His heavy black jacket fell over his shirt comfortably (though many wondered, isn't he hot under all that leather and fur?). He didn't bother to buckle more than two belts today. No one teased him about his sense of fashion here, mainly because everyone was from different worlds, so they couldn't quite tell what was normal or not. He put Griever back around his neck, and slipped his gloves on. It was as he tied his boots that Rinoa finally murmured awake. She drowsily rubbed her eyes before looking to Squall.

"... Heeey, you..." she mumbled, "You going out to fight again...?"

"Yeah, I'm feeling better," he responded, "I was just tired."

"You certainly didn't seem tired last night~" Rinoa teased.

"Don't wait up," was all he said. Rinoa gave a light smile, eyes still half-closed, before dropping back down again with a Fwump as she buried herself back under the fluffy comforter and pillows. Squall's gentle smile in return wouldn't be seen by anyone, which was how he preferred it. He took one last lingering glance at his Rinoa, before he zipped up the tent flap behind him. His mind clear and ready, Squall walked north to see what the hubbub was about in the center of the realm.


Announcement Board

Upon returning to the outside, Tyro was met with handfuls of records. Those who did not stop to speak with Tyro at least took notice of him. He had deposited his hospital gown onto the floor of his chambers and now sported his official Record Keeper uniform. Everyone would assume that everything would go back to normal. With his oversized sleeves swaying with his little arms, Tyro marched to the announcement board. In childish handwriting:

Squall
Tidus
ExDeath
Vaan
Yshtola

The advance squad had been decided (and many had pointed out to Tyro that he still didn't put the proper apostrophe in Y'shtola's name). He'd picked records that would receive a synergy bonus, as they were quite familiar with the worlds of Dissidia.

Tyro always ensured to oversee the clearing of the lowest levels of the dungeons, sometimes needing to participate himself. And yet, some of the darkest memories of his fastidious hero records have lurked down below. But Tyro wasn't going to back away. The Dissidia Event would be ending soon, and he had trials of Apocalyptic difficulty to complete!


Zone I

After reading the bulletin, the Warrior of Light had learned that he wasn't a part of the advance squad. And honestly he was... a little jealous. It would be a lie to say that he didn't mind that he wasn't called forth immediately after Tyro's recovery. Especially more so that it was against Chaos' final form. He had a vested interest in being the one to take the monster down. But he swallowed his pride.

Sure, some of the other zones' commanders were called upon more often than himself. But he had been excessively called upon to farm motes from such monsters as Titan and Daedalus this past year. He was certainly a more popular pick for Tyro than most of the records in the hall. In fact, he nearly never saw any of the other Ones brought to battle except for during their own realm's respective events. But by now, the Warrior of Light felt a real connection to many of the heroes, and would have to live vicariously through them during this battle. Hoisting himself up from his seat, he decided to go and watch the fight.

Exiting his tent, he strode east of his zone casually (well, as casually as a militant clone in armor could walk, at least). On the way, he passed children playing in Zone III. He continued his walk, feeling as though perhaps life here was more peaceful than he gave credit. Another zone east and he walked straight through Zone IV. Cecil gave him a gentle smile and the Warrior of Light returned a respectful nod in kind. He had originally only felt a kinship to the Paladin, but now held deference for the man after learning that he was the King of Baron. Also, admittedly he felt grateful that the Warrior was called upon more than Cecil now (though Cecil was quite important in the early years).

As he stepped forward, the Warrior of Light entered zones that began to feel more foreign. The people of Zone VI only bore a passing resemblance to styles that he knew. Without seeing anyone he knew very well, the Warrior of Light continued on his path. Next, Zone VII was entirely foreign to him. In return, its oddly-dressed inhabitants found antiques like the Warrior of Light to be odd, yet appealing. A perfect example of this dichotomy walked towards the knight, interrupting his thoughts. It was the squad leader of the zone who he was about to cross paths with.

It was unusual for the Warrior of Light to talk with Cloud. Other than serving together in a few other interdimensional campaigns, the only thing the two of them had in common was their dearth of conversation. And so, if this were any other day, the two would likely just make eye contact and give silent recognition to each other, and that would be the end of it. But this time, Tifa Lockheart was walking alongside the blond swordsman. Hands folded behind her back, she trotted along happily before noticing the Warrior of Light ahead. She immediately gave a big smile and waved to her former teammate under Cosmos.

"Heyy!" Tifa called.

'Oh god. A conversation. Anything but that.' Cloud thought to himself. Tifa's unnecessary little greeting was slightly irksome to Cloud; it would likely mean they would be forced to go through the polite pleasantries that came with bumping into a 'friend', but Cloud didn't say anything to protest. And the Warrior of Light was fairly apathetic about it in response, and approached the pair passively.

"Good morow, Tifa, Cloud," the Warrior spoke almost regally.

"What brings you to our humble camp?" Tifa asked cheerily.

"I am merely passing through," the Warrior replied, "I was not requested for the current mission, so I thought perhaps I might come by and watch."

"Ooo, you also wanted to fight there, right?" Tifa quizzed, "I suppose it's not every day that so many of us would have a dungeon where we'd have synergy together."

"This one's bitter about it too," Tifa added, pointing to Cloud with her thumb. This earned her a short glare from the man beside her.

"I don't care," Cloud grumbled, rolling his eyes and turning away. His quickness to respond to Tifa's teasing was testament to this bitterness, and the knowing Tifa smiled all the more as she noticed this. He held in the desire to cross his arms; attributing meaning to this sort of body language was exactly what Tifa would comment on later, and Cloud didn't want to give her any more fuel to tease him further.

"Perhaps next time," the Warrior of Light spoke up.

"Yeah, whatever," Cloud replied annoyed. He was becoming impatient, and wanted to hurry this up. Without waiting, he began to walk past the conversation.

"Oh- Well, I guess we'll be seeing you later," Tifa blinked, beginning to follow Cloud. Other than Tyro waking up, today had been a little boring for her tastes.

She was secretly pleased that she could force the anti-social Cloud to stop and chat. Now, he would have some built up agitation, some pent-up aggression that he would want to take out on her as soon as they were alone. She didn't mind in the least, and secretly reveled in these rare moments of feeling sly.

Pestering Cloud was becoming one of her most enjoyable hobbies (and it paid off for her twofold later at night). It seemed a little sadistic; a bit mean toward her surly heartthrob at first, but on the days that she didn't bother him, Cloud tended to unintentionally scorn her and completely ignore her. He just wasn't any good at being an attentive boyfrie-... Whatever he was. They didn't have titles.

Erstwhile, the Warrior of Light was entirely indifferent to this dynamic between the two of them. With a single look back at the two walking away, the Warrior turned and strode on without pausing. His listless stare ahead gazed toward a setting sun.


Tyro has dungeons to finish. He's gotta use up some of that stamina, next chapter!