"What do you mean, gone?" Lightning demanded, her pace speeding up rather than faltering. Gadot and Sazh would just have to catch up with her if they wanted to stay in a group, then, because she wasn't slowing down for them. They were adults, they knew how to run.
"He was right there, we were talking to him, and then he stopped responding. And we couldn't find him." Snow explained, although his voice was terse. "Sis, listen. We're looking for him, I swear we're going to find him, so just— don't take it out on Lebreau. Please. She's flipping out over here with worry. It was my decision, I made the final call."
Her teeth were grinding as she pushed herself to run faster, what the hell had happened over there? and keep her breaths steady at the same time. It was a far enough distance that she refused to be winded before she got there. "Snow. What. Happened."
"We found Mosley's location, but it's under the city. With the power out, there's no way to get in or out of the walkways, so we decided to search the shops for supplies." His voice wavered a moment. "Hope made good points for splitting up. I agreed with him."
Of course Hope would opt for splitting up. It was the same decision Lightning had made when they had reached Eden's crash site. Splitting up made the search faster. So far, there had been no dangers on the dead Cocoon. He really was far too much like her, and Sazh was right: soon enough, he would be a soldier and Lightning wouldn't be able to keep him away from danger.
She wouldn't allow that to happen.
"Tell me about the generator you found." Because it was going to take her time to get there (damn the limitations of a human body), and she was going to make sure that she used that time to assess the situation. The area reminded her of the Vile Peaks, ruins and darkness surrounding the once vibrant cities. But there were no enemies in these areas — everything had either died or been cleared out after the fall of Cocoon, with most people able to survive because they had kept themselves ensconced in safe areas. Those who were outside, who hadn't been able to brace themselves for the planet falling, they were the ones who didn't survive.
"Not sure it's a generator." Snow admitted. "I'm staying in front of it in case something happens, but... Lebreau is out looking for Hope."
Good. She had to stay unaffected by this enough to make objective decisions. "And you said it suddenly powered up?"
"Completed offline before." Snow confirmed. "I don't know what's powering this thing now, but there's definitely something weird about it. Hope was the one who said there was something off— that it looked newer than anything around here, pre-Cocoon Fall."
Lightning thought to the blueprints that Sazh had dug up. Could it be that?
"Stay put. I'll be there soon enough." She cut the call off, mentally seething. She wasn't sure who she was angry at, be it herself or Snow or even Hope for disappearing, but it was an anger that would have to wait until things were back to normal.
She had spent far too long making back-up plans for everyone she cared about to lose Hope on her own mission. If something had happened to Serah... if something happened to Hope... she didn't know what to do. It was a weakness, but it had been a weakness that kept her going.
"Looks like it wasn't the rambling of some madman in his diary, then," Sazh commented behind her, out of breath. "So they really built that."
"Question is, what is it?" Lightning asked, not looking back. "What does it have to do with the disappearances?"
She didn't know, but she was more than determined to find out now. There was no way that the council would have created something that would wipe out the population of Cocoon, so what was it? A teleportation device? If so, where did it take the people?
How would she activate it?
"Guess we'll see." Sazh said, and then fell silent as he worked on keeping his footsteps even with her's. Being a l'Cie had increased all their stamina exponentially, and Lightning worked hard to keep that stamina even as their brands faded. It was an advantage she wasn't ready to yield to an enemy.
Gadot was suspiciously silent, and she had to bite her tongue to refrain from commenting on that. Was he judging her decision? Her choice of team? She imagined Lebreau was doing that right now, and would be ready to confront her the moment she arrived on scene.
The next half hour passed in tense silence and the heavy footfalls of running as she bypassed the timed call from Lieutenant Amodar, responding with a busy signal. He would understand, even if he worried over what could possibly have prompted her to send that signal. It meant they were alive and well, but didn't have time to respond just yet. She'd get back to him later.
She saw the light of the orb in the street before she saw the flare, especially since Snow had not been exaggerating about how the thing lit up an entire street. It lit up all the details of the street, and could be seen from far away, the blue of Snow's bio-suit nearly white in the glare.
He looked up at her appearance, and then scrambled up to his feet where he had been sitting against a wall, his back tense as he continued his stare at the lightened orb in front of him.
"Lebreau's on her way back." He told her before she could pose a question.
"How's she doing?" And this time, it was Gadot's voice, softer than Lightning would have expected, that interrupted.
Snow shook his head. "She's pretty shaken. Kind of had it as her personal mission to keep the kid safe. It's my fault, but... she's taking it hard. If anyone can find him again, it'd be her."
"Hold on a minute." Sazh cut in, but his tone was distracted, and Lightning turned to see him staring at the bright orb, one hand under his chin in thought. "I saw something like this. On the vids when they were scanning over Cocoon yesterday. They had one in Sunleth, one in Bresha. Thought it was just some comms device that they built independent of fal'Cie technology..."
"So you're saying this has nothing to do with the disappearances?" She asked. On one hand, that would be it wasn't the cause of Hope's disappearance either, but on the other... they would be back to step one.
"Now I ain't saying that." Sazh held up his hands to stop their questions. "I'm just saying there's more than one of these, that's for sure. And more than just in this city. Could be another clue, for all we know. But right now, it's not making much sense to me."
"If these are communications arrays, why are they lit up like this?" Snow shook his head. "That wouldn't make sense, would it? Nothing else on Cocoon has any power right now—?"
"And ain't that strange now?" Sazh muttered.
Lightning stepped in. "Sazh is right. Even without the fal'Cie, Cocoon should have power. We provide them enough for communications and transport and at least the basic necessities. There were plans to rebuild some cities in Cocoon, and rumors of an elevator between Cocoon and Pulse."
Sazh nodded. "And this place is deader than a doornail. Can't believe we didn't notice that before."
Gadot made a frustrated noise. "That doesn't explain anything."
"No, it doesn't." Lightning turned back to Snow. The only way to solve whatever was going on was to find someone who might know more than them. "You said that Lieutenant Mosley is under the city?"
"Yeah. Here—" Snow pulled out the abandoned tracker and switched it on again, the light negligible next to the brightness of the orb. He stilled. "Wait. It's moved."
"You expected him to stay in one spot?" Lightning questioned dryly, although she moved closer to examine the device as well. She had somewhat expected Mosley to not move if he had somehow been injured in a manner that meant he wasn't answering his calls. Her brows furrowed slightly as she took in the readings. "Did you break this?"
"What? No!" Snow shook the device, but then looked up. "Well, he's not under the city anymore. If anything, he should be standing in front of us. I don't understand."
"Well. Maybe he is." Sazh shrugged. "You said this thing just lit up, yeah? Maybe it activated somehow, and Mosley's trying to tell us something."
"Great. More riddles." She grunted. This wasn't conducive to her mission at all, or bearing leads as to where Hope went. And if she knew the younger boy, she knew he would never just run off without at least contacting them about it. No. Whatever this was, he had been taken...
"Snow. Hope's suit—"
"I tried that." Snow interrupted with a shake of his head. "Nothing. No signal of it anywhere."
Nothing. She wasn't going to accept that.
"Fine. Call me when Lebreau returns. I'll do my own investigation."
.
.
The computers were useless. For one, the level of encryption was far above what Hope was used to, and for another, they didn't respond the way proper computers did. It was possible that it was because they were in virtual reality instead, where everything around them consisted on zeroes and ones. A computer terminal wasn't going to help a whit.
"There's nothing here that even hints this place isn't real." Hope complained, wishing the holographic surface would at least be solid enough that he could whack it a few good times.
"Did you expect it to?" Mosley asked from his own terminal, close to the edge of Carbuncle. He didn't even look up, too focused on his own screens.
The temptation to smack the computer into making sense faded away, and Hope sulked. "No. But it doesn't make sense how we could find your suit's signal. Why that and not the comms? It's not because yours is broken since I couldn't contact anyone on mine, either."
Mosley made an irritated noise. "Must we revisit facts we already know, Estheim?"
"Yes." That was just how he absorbed information, and it annoyed Hope that Mosley couldn't seem to accept that. If they at least went over it, then maybe they'd be able to find some kind of loophole that they had missed. Some detail that might progress their search further. "How do you expect to learn things if you don't talk about them?"
"I've told you what you need to know." Mosley dismissed. "There's no need for reiteration."
Hope huffed. This was useless, he couldn't seem to talk to Lieutenant Mosley at all. The man wasn't willing to indulge even in casual conversation, claiming that it disturbed his work and concentration, and disliked giving Hope any clue as to how he was supposed to help.
Six hours to prove himself useful, yeah right. It was more like six hours for Mosley to snipe at his intelligence.
What could possibly have allowed the suit's beacon to pierce the veil between this digitized reality and the one where they were actually in Cocoon? Granted, the signal was weaker than the communications system, in that it needed much less power. There were limits to the comms device, after all, such as distance and interference. The beacon was meant to bypass those limits so that anyone searching for it would be able to find it in layers of rubble and radioactive barriers.
It was weak, but resilient. Was that it? No, it couldn't be. If the answer were that simple, then Mosley would have found it already.
Hope looked up. "What's the difference between communication waves and distress signals? I mean, frequency-wise."
"Is this going to be important, Estheim?" Mosley asked, voice distracted.
"It could be."
Mosley heaved a heavy sigh and took his attention away from the computer monitors. "If you're trying to insinuate that we could create another signal using the same frequencies as distress beacons, I must tell you that I already tried that last night and seeing as the only message you managed to receive from me still was my location... no, it doesn't work."
Hope glared. "You could have just said that in the first place. And I told you before, my name is Hope."
Mosley turned back to his work. "So far, you have come up with nothing to impress me, Estheim. Are you really your father's son?"
He bristled. What— what even—
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Bartholomew Estheim is a brilliant man." Mosley said, never once looking up again. "A brilliant politician who has managed to diffuse a very deadly situation with nothing but words and promises. He and Captain Rygdea have become Gran Pulse's hope for stability. The hope that," Mosley peered at him over the terminals, disapproving, "You have not lived up to."
"I wasn't aware I had anything to live up to." And if the response was fiercer than Hope had intended, he didn't really care. What was that man trying to insinuate, anyway? That he wasn't good enough for... what? To be his father's son? That he wasn't good enough to have a father who was trying to fight for him? Hope seethed. This man. He couldn't stand him!
"He spends a lot of time and effort protecting a child whom the public has rarely seen." Mosley continued. "It's obvious in every speech he gives, in every conference he attends. 'The future for the children', he says, and 'keeping hope' that things will work out. And yet... here you are. Up in Cocoon, trapped in a virtual reality and unable to find your way out. Tell me. Does your father even know you're up here? Did you tell him? Did he allow it?"
Hope's eyes were wide, and he found himself unable to respond. Sure, he had told his dad that— that he was following Lightning up to Cocoon, that he had been allowed on this mission and—
He didn't remember his dad's response. Only that he had been mad, and that they had argued, but eventually he had been given (very reluctant) permission to come up.
"Respect must be earned, and I have none for errant children who run around without a thought as to the consequences." Mosley said, tone sharper than Hope had ever heard. "And until that respect is earned, you are undeserving of the name gifted to you."
It was damning and personal and Hope hadn't expected words like that. He had expected that maybe the Lieutenant didn't want to work with him because of his past, because of his status as a ex-l'Cie, because of how he had taken a part in... the end of the world.
He hadn't expected to be judged because he somehow wasn't good enough, and not good enough for what? Compared to who?
That's not fair! He wanted to protest. What the hell was he supposed to live up to, anyway? Hadn't he already lived up to what his father expected? Stayed the good kid, stayed quiet and polite as much he could, got good grades in school and never got into trouble if he could help it?
Wasn't that good enough?
He could have turned out so much worse, but he hadn't! He played by all the restrictions that he had been given, all the rules that he suddenly had to follow because he wasn't allowed to shine in ways he could, because he wasn't allowed so much as learning how to fight to defend himself.
All of this— how was this his fault? How as it his fault that he had found himself stuck here? Yes, he had wanted to come. He wanted to help. Why was he suddenly at fault for that?
He could have rebelled. He could have caused a scene. He could have... he could have done anything differently than what he had so far, and made things so much worse. But he hadn't, had he?
He hadn't acted up, hadn't even thought about even though he knew of many others his age who did, who deviated from the path set by their parents.
Instead of saying any of that, Hope swallowed his bitterness and shock and stilled the shaking that wanted to happen. Once upon a time, he had given into his rage. Nothing good had come of that, though, and he had told himself he wouldn't do it again. It wasn't worth the pain that came from it.
"Why do you hate me so much?" He asked instead, making sure his voice was steady even as his eyes stayed downcast at the glow of his screen, not registering any of the written words.
Mosley didn't respond, and for a few long seconds, the only sounds around them was the steady hum of Carbuncle, of the soft beeping of computers.
"You assume I hate you." Mosley responded, quieter. "I don't. But you need to think about your actions, kid. The very ones that landed you up here. If I don't make it out? That's fine, I discussed this with my commanding officer already. But you're not military. You have a father who's been trying to move the world to keep you safe. You shouldn't be up here.
"This place is for the people who lost everything. Staying is giving up, which is something I don't do, but even if I failed, it would be alright. Do you understand that, Estheim? What I'm saying?"
Oh. Oh.
Hope didn't, or maybe he didn't want to. A part of it made sense to him, but there was a part of him that denied the coherency, almost as when he had first turned l'Cie and couldn't swallow his own fate. He knew, but it didn't want to comprehend.
But he wasn't that kid who couldn't handle being a monster anymore.
"You were planning on staying here." Hope deduced, because that's what it meant under all of Mosley's grump and irritation and disparaging. Mosley wouldn't have given up, but he had been happy enough to accept defeat if he couldn't find a solution.
"Staying is not an option." Mosley denied. "My priorities were to get information on what happened to the people of Cocoon back to the Guardian Corps. My priorities have now changed to getting you back safe to your father."
"I can take care of myself." But those words felt empty and hollow, dry in his throat whereas once he had been proud of that statement and willing to prove it at just about any cost. He swallowed once, twice, to try and dislodge the sandy feeling in his mouth. "I can."
Mosley gave him a long stare before returning to his data, having nothing more to say.
Hope tried his best to pay attention to what he had been looking at before, but it was hard with the knowledge that— that it didn't matter if he had tried so hard not to be a burden, that he was doing his best to make his own way, because no matter what he tried to do, he would be a burden on others. Stay home and be useless, or go out and have everyone worry about him; have people have to change their priorities because of him.
That wasn't what he had meant to do. He just wanted to help out and prove that he could pull his own weight, because he wasn't useless.
Now, though, he felt worse than useless. At least if he hadn't done anything, no one would have to go out of the way to look out for him. It was mere words, but they rang too true in his head. How many times had people gotten hurt because of him? How many times had everyone else gone out of the way to either keep him safe or keep him out of trouble?
Before, there was no choice but the continue on, but now he had the option of staying behind. Except he couldn't stand to not be useful, especially knowing of the things that came from stepping back and letting others take care of the situation for him. It never ends well.
We can still do things down here to help.
Maybe Maqui had been right. Maybe Hope was supposed to stay down on Gran Pulse for this mission, watching after the others in a manner that wouldn't worry them.
Hope ducked his head further, feeling unable to concentrate on the words on the screen. He just wanted to prove himself useful.
Why was that so hard?
He hadn't even thought about— hadn't thought about what his dad would do if he got trapped here. He hadn't really thought of other people, really, when he decided he wanted to be on the front lines. Just that he didn't want to fail his own expectations, and wasn't that supposed to be enough?
"Why do you care?" Hope finally asked, unable to concentrate on his work. He didn't want to be spiteful, but he couldn't understand why Lieutenant Mosley seemed so adamant on talking to him about his dad. He didn't know the other man further than the fact that he was in the Guardian Corps and had been the one sent up to Cocoon for the reconnaissance mission. He had never met the other man before today. Had never even heard of the other man.
Mosley hesitated suspiciously in his typing, as if he had braced himself for that question already; knew it was coming.
"I don't." He responded tersely, fingers flying over the holographic keyboard again. "But children should never be sent anywhere dangerous."
Was that it? Hope thought. "So this is because you think I'm just some kid who can't handle it?"
"There is no such thing as 'just some kid'." Mosley corrected, refusing to turn in Hope's direction. "Not when there are parents to care for them; adults who worry over their safety. The key thing for adults, Estheim, is understanding that children are to be protected. Throwing yourself in danger is counterproductive to anything rational."
"That doesn't just apply to kids." Hope protested after taking a moment to think that statement over, to nitpick it in a way he rarely did. It was the way Mosley had said it, the tone that hinted at something more than just an overall statement. It wasn't something he had just been taught, but believed in reverently. "That applies to everyone. There's always someone who cares and worries, not just parents. And not just for kids."
There was some part of his conversation that he was missing.
"What do you think a parent feels when they lose a child? When they had the power to look after their children, and could have done more, but couldn't have foreseen what happened?" Mosley's fist came down hard on the console, hard enough that Hope jumped back in shock even from where he was. "It's more than the death of just anyone. More than just losing a friend or even a normal family member. How do you think it feels for a parent to lose a child?"
Hope thought of Sazh, those days they had been l'Cie down on Pulse and the man had smiled at him and told him not to wander off to far away from the others. Sazh had lost his son then, even though Dahj hadn't died. The man had never said anything about it, and Hope hadn't known him well enough to assume otherwise for his personality, but Sazh had been different then. A different that he knew only now, now that he and Dahj had been reunited. Hope had assumed it was not just because of that, but also because of the fact that they had fulfilled their Focus and didn't have the Cie'th timer hanging over their heads.
He didn't know. All he knew was how hard it had been to lose his mom. It was a pain that wouldn't fade and wouldn't go away. It had been months, but Hope's nightmares of the Hanged Edge hadn't faded. His nightmares of turning Cie'th hadn't faded. In fact, sometimes they got inventive enough to combine those two or more fears of his.
"You lost a child." Hope concluded, voice soft. He couldn't understand that pain at all. The closest he had come to it was losing a parent, and losing all the stability his mom had been to him. His world had tilted and fallen then, long before Cocoon actually did.
Mosley tensed. "That is not something I want to discussed with a former l'Cie."
It was recent, then, according to the venom in his voice. During the fall of Cocoon. Something to do with the Pulse l'Cie.
Hope looked down again and swallowed thickly. "Oh."
What could he even say to that? It wasn't as if anything he said would be able to make a difference. Hope was used to people who saw him as nothing more than an ex-Pulse l'Cie, but that branding still hurt. It wasn't a physical brand anymore, not like the one he had, but now it was a mental one. A brand that everyone seemed to be able to see when they looked in his direction.
It was understandable, he knew. A third of the world had died during the fall of Cocoon, and even if they hadn't any other choice and the fall had been inevitable, he had been one who actually lifted a weapon against Orphan. That battle was what caused the fall of Eden, the fall of Cocoon.
Was this why Mosley didn't want him fighting? Because he had already done enough damage? But that seemed... wrong. If that was the case, if he blamed Hope for the fall of Cocoon and most likely for the loss of a child, why was he working to help Hope get out of the virtual world?
...But then, why wouldn't he if this world was supposed to be perfect?
His fingers clenched at the terminal, and Hope grabbed for a portable computer, deciding that it wouldn't do right now to dwell on those thoughts. Time was ticking away, and six hours was nothing when he not only have to find a way to communicate with the outside world, but for the outside world to figure out a way to get them both out as well.
"I'm going to go... check on the suits." Hope said lamely, gesturing weakly with a hand despite the fact that Mosley never looked up at him.
Getting no response from the other man, Hope left as quietly as possible.
.
.
"Hey."
Maqui jerked out of the light doze he had fallen into as Yuj laid a hand on his shoulder. The younger boy jerked, nearly knocking over the cup of tea that had been placed by the comms relay board next to where he had decided to place his feet.
"Aren't you supposed to be manning this thing?" Yuj asked, one hand ruffling Maqui's hair even as the younger teen groaned and tried to shove his hands away. "I think you're sleeping on the job, man."
"G'way," Maqui grumbled, although he yawned and stretched after that, straightening his back out of the seat and making muffled noises as he tried to work the sleep induced drowsiness away. "I'm manning it, I'm manning it. Communications a-okay over here, alright? No breakdowns, no alarms going off, no end of the world."
"Yeah, you missed that by a day. Haven't you heard?" Yuj quipped as he pulled up another swivel chair and dropped into the seat, grabbing at the cold cup of tea. "How're they doing, anyway?"
Maqui had to take a moment to actually check his readings, still fighting the remnants of sleep as he said, "Looks okay. No technical breakdowns yet."
He gave another yawn. Man, this backstage stuff was boring. It didn't help that he had stayed up half the night before either, trying to find a few extra parts to ensure that the comms devices would be working (and then building an extra to stay in touch with Hope). So far, no one had gotten back to him yet, though, but he figured that they wouldn't. Too busy exploring and having fun and stuff. No one really thought about the tech guy, but Maqui was used to that.
Yuj looked sympathetic. "Not much sleep last night?"
"Don't think I got any sleep," Maqui grumbled, slumped over the top of his machines. "How was I supposed to sleep after that?"
"Yeah, it's not everyday that the world decides to blow information out of proportions, isn't it?"
"I meant Lebreau, jackass." Maqui said with a roll of his eyes. Yeah, the information about everyone on Cocoon disappearing was jarring, but it hadn't really hit home yet, not when he didn't really know anyone who had stayed on Cocoon and he was pretty sure that Snow and the others would solve this thing by the end of the day. That was what heroes did. "She never gets upset."
"Oh, she gets upset a lot." Yuj responded mysteriously. "You just haven't been paying attention lately."
"What does that mean?" Maqui asked, bewildered.
Yuj just waved the question off. "Nothing, nothing. You've just had other stuff on your mind lately, right? School and stuff. Don't worry about it."
"No, I wanna know what that means!" Maqui whinged. "You can't just say that and leave it there!"
"It means you've got other things to focus on, alright? C'mon, Maqui, just leave it. I shouldn't have brought it up in the first place."
Maqui paused. "You promised Lebreau you wouldn't talk about it?"
"Well, yeah."
The blond huffed, pulling his goggles over his eyes in irritation. "Oh, fine, whatever. Then I'm not used to seeing her upset, and couldn't sleep."
"Yeah, yeah." Yuj leaned back on the seat and kicked up his legs onto the console, arms behind his head in a posture of relaxation. "And trying to figure out how to get yourself on the mission, right? I heard you arguing with Lebreau about that this morning."
Maqui groaned and tried to bury his face in his arms. It hadn't been so much an argument as her cutting him down at every turn. She hadn't even looked like she was trying, either. Had his skills of persuasion gotten so bad that he could be knocked down effortlessly?
"It's not like she even listened to me." He grumbled, then peeked out without lifting his head. "What's with that, anyway? It was the same thing with Snow and Gadot this morning. I know they had this mission, but you'd think they'd at least pretend that I have a valid point."
Yuj laughed. "Man, even you say that you didn't have a valid point, how are they supposed to take you seriously?"
"Easily," Maqui grumbled childishly. He lifted his head and tapped against one of the music players on the corner of his desk, looking for some background noise. It was too quiet with just him and Yuj in NORA house, and even the squeaky voices of popular singers crooning about everlasting love and difficulties felt better than the silence.
Yuj made a disgusted noise. "Dude, you listen to the worst things."
"My equipment, my choice of music." Maqui said, although there was no bite to it. He leaned back and stretched, making a satisfied noise as his sore muscles pulled in a way that dissipated the ache. Now that he was feeling better and more awake, he turned his attentions on the communications relay he had set up. He wasn't actually going to listen in on the conversations, mostly because he understood the need for privacy and knew that if he was needed, someone would call for him, but he still checked to make sure they were working properly.
"Sure are lots of talking going on up there." He squinted at the lines. He had expected it to be pretty quiet, mostly because Lightning was intimidating and he'd probably stay silent in her vicinity unless she demanded something of him. "Think they're talking about us?"
"Don't be so vain," Yuj said, although his attention was already elsewhere. "You always think people are talking about you. Why would they be talking about us on some important mission?"
"I dunno." Maqui frowned at the readings. All the comms devices were working correctly, yes, but there was a suspicious silence going on with all that talking up there. "Hey. You think Hope's really dedicated to this mission?"
"I think that kid's too dedicated to everything." Yuj responded. "Why?"
Maqui took a moment to check through his readings again. "He's not talking. The rate of noise we're getting up there, people seem to be yelling at each other or something. Everything's working fine, too, nothing's broken..."
"Maybe he just doesn't like being yelled at, then." Yuj deduced casually, obviously not too worried about it. "I don't know anyone who does."
Maqui tried his best to believe that, but there was a nagging sense that told him otherwise. "No, that couldn't be it. He'd still be listening in, at least. This isn't—" He quelled the urge to turn on the device from his side and listen into whatever they had to say. None of those on the mission would appreciate his prying, he knew. "This is complete radio silence we're talking about here."
But he had more than just that one line of communications with them. He still had the device that he had managed to hobble together last night, that one link to Hope he hadn't given up.
He scrambled out of his seat, an urgency that he hadn't felt before pushing him to find the unit amongst the mess in the room. The entire place had been hastily put together, after all, near the base of the pillar and closer to the Cie'th Stone that had taken the group away.
He hadn't brought a lot of equipment with him ("Not a lot?" Yuj had shrieked when they were tasked with moving the tech around. "If by not a lot, you mean how Lightning was not so pleased when Snow and Serah first got engaged!" "But she wasn't?" "It's the exaggeration that counts!"), knowing that it was all supposed to be moved back to his garage come nightfall and the group came home. Still, it was enough for him to have created the familiar chaotic space he was used to moving around in, and Maqui had to throw a few things around to find the other half of the bulky communications device he had given Hope.
He paused when he had the cool metal in his hands, realizing that with the suits that the group had gone up in, it would be near impossible for Hope to access that device. Not if it was in a pocket or something.
"What the hell's that thing?" Yuj asked from where he still sat in his chair, watching his best friend move about curiously.
Maqui adopted a histrionic sigh. "Just something I made yesterday."
"Is it like the watch you made for Snow? The one that's supposed to withstand anything? Because I've got to tell you, man, that's one ugly thing you built there."
Maqui resisted the urge to pout. "It's a comms device! And that watch was a piece of art, man! I've had people come around asking for me to make more of those for ages and you know it!"
"Your slogan of how it would last ten thousand years or not, I doubt anyone would have wanted one if I hadn't given you some designs to follow."
"Yeah, yeah, whatever." Maqui brushed off, and slouched back over to his seat, throwing the device on the table along with all his other odds and ends at the moment. "Doubt it'd work right now, anyway. It was just a stupid idea on my part, I guess."
He moped for a second before yelping as Yuj hit him over the back of the head. "What was that for?"
"Just because I'm allowed to make fun of your inventions doesn't mean you get to call them stupid." Yuj snapped. "Have faith, man. All your stuff is good, okay? You just gotta believe in that yourself."
Maqui rubbed at the back of his head. "Hope put it in his pocket. With the suit on, he'd never even be able to reach it."
"So it's a fault of the suit, not one of yours. You could have said to put in the equipment or something, you know. That's not a fault of your design, that's just idiotic of you."
"Hey!" Maqui protested. "That's not fair!"
"Plenty fair." Yuj responded, and went back to his former slouched position. "Besides, just because he can't reach it doesn't mean he can't hear you, right?"
Maqui gave the device on the table a thoughtful look. "That's true."
"Well, go on, then. Unless you've got things to say that you need me out of the room for. If so, good on you, but I've got to tell you that I think you're moving a bit fast— hey, watch it!" Yuj ducked as Maqui throw an empty casing at him, and laughed as the younger teen made a disgusted face. "Alright, alright! I don't comment. I'll leave you to it, wonder boy."
As the older boy exited the room, Maqui turned his attentions back on the bulky comms device.
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The one thing that Hope realized was different between Cocoon and Gran Pulse was that leaving to get fresh air didn't work as well on Cocoon, or at least he simulated version of Cocoon. He didn't remember if air felt fresh or not before the whole l'Cie incident, but he knew that he had never noticed a difference. On Pulse, though, air felt fresher outside, thicker and crisp along the breeze carrying the smells of plants and flowers and dirt. It was a little like the Sunleth Waterscapes, he thinks.
Here, there wasn't a difference between under Palumpolum or out in the streets. The air felt the same inside and outside, and it held the same degree of freshness either way. And here, in the so-called virtual world, no one stared at him or even gave him a second look. Everyone looked busy, looked like they were enjoying themselves, and it was as if nothing was wrong.
Hope hadn't realized how much he missed that.
He missed being able to walk down a street without having to duck his head and hurry his steps because the whispers had already started, and having to strain in order to smile as Maqui babbled on and on about random things, trying his hardest to ignore as the passer-bys would startle as they saw him and then take a wider berth to avoid him.
Everyone was different down on Pulse, but it had been so much worse on Cocoon. Hope had never returned while people were still there. He had enough survival instincts to understand that returning would only be taunting people to take their anger out on him.
So while he lived with the whispers and glares daily, he had never been personally hit with blame before. Not face to face, and not completely. He was used to ducking away, sliding through the anger rather than confronting it. It was... different.
He breathed deeply as he passed through the streets, making his way to the small pile of bio-suits, wondering why no one had bothered trying to move them or even really took any notice of them at all.
Face it later,Hope reminded himself as he tried to struggle through the smothering guilt. The fall of Cocoon, the deaths of one third of the population; even the death of his mother... it was still too much and too soon. He would deal with it when he could, and now was not the time. He had other things to concentrate on now, such as getting himself and Lieutenant Mosley out of this mess.
At least he could say that he hadn't gotten the other man into this mess. It was little consolation, but it was something nevertheless. And if he could get the two of them out of it... maybe he would have made up for something.
Just... a little bit. A tiny bit.
He crouched down near the suits, tucking his knees against his chest as he reached with one gloved hand to sift through the suits, trying to turn up the blinking comms signal by the neck. He might just be wasting his time, but he needed a moment away from Mosley and all that restrained animosity.
Just how much had his father been protecting him so far, anyway? How many laws had Bartholomew Estheim changed in order to allow his son to lead a decent life? From what Hope could get from his dad, he was merely the financial adviser of the standing government before the events of the kidnapping. Now he was running for a small office, one that he was near guaranteed from his knowledge of how everything worked.
He and Captain Rygdea and even Lieutenant Amodar (who he had overheard from his dad was overdue for a promotion) were working so hard to make sure everyone on Gran Pulse would be okay.
What had he been doing?
He had been staying quiet, trying to keep his head down and going to school. When this chance came to actually do something that could be useful, Hope had grabbed at it with both hands. Now he wondered if it was the right thing to do. Had staying quiet been the right way to go about things?
If he needed time to face the events, then he could understand how everyone else needed time as well. He and the others were just convenient targets for blame, at least until people could properly go through their grief.
And then... and then he would be able to face it. His own actions and involvement.
His gloves came away slightly shimmery and Hope frowned, rubbing his fingers together to try and dispel that glitter. Dust? What was that doing on the suits? Specifically, what was that doing on Mosley's suit?
It was crystal dust, he realized a moment later. With all the crystal surrounding Cocoon, it wasn't too surprising. The Lieutenant had probably squeezed through an area between crystals and scraped a bit off. For something so exceptionally durable, it seemed to like sticking to people a lot. Enough that most people weren't allowed near the base of the pillar in fear that it would eventually wear away and break.
Phoenix was still high in the sky, but it had been at least an hour since they had started searching (maybe two? He hadn't checked a clock, but his thoughts had drowned out his sense of time). How would Lightning be reacting right now? Snow? Sazh? Lebreau and Gadot? He knew they'd be worried, knew it but apparently he hadn't... known. Hadn't thought it through from their point of view. Would they be searching for him right now?
The distress beacon took only a tiny sliver of power but had managed to get through the barrier between this virtual Cocoon and the real Cocoon. The regular comms system in the suit was highly advanced, able to call the distance between Cocoon and Gran Pulse easily and then some. They maintained multiple calls as well so that people could keep in contact at all times. It was much too advanced, too much compacted information being sent to make it through the barrier.
Now he was calling it a barrier as well. Was it even one, though?
Crystal dust... Hope's thoughts drifted, trying to stay far away from Lieutenant Mosley and the child he had lost. What was it about crystal dust?
The distress beacon was a simple signal. One beep to send to anyone close enough to find it. If he could duplicate that somehow...
Maqui's comms device was simple, wasn't it? It was a one-way communication in that the messages would only be able to get to Maqui, and vice versa. There weren't other channels on it, or the usage of multiple calls. But it would have to carry the signal too far. Wouldn't it?
Hope ran a gloved finger through the crystal dust.
If only he had...
If only he had what?
The comms device was still on the terminal of the computer he had been using down by Carbuncle, and he was missing something.
Crystals.
They amplify power output by one point eight times.
Mosley's suit was covered with crystal dust.
Hope nearly jumped up with his haste, heart thudding. Was that what he had been missing all along? That extra jolt of energy needed in order to carry a message through? Dust wouldn't be enough, though, if he wanted to transmit something more than just a simple beep. To get a message through using the communications from the suit... the energy would be unbelievable. No way. He couldn't do something like that.
But Maqui's simple and bulky call relay... it would need more than the dust he had. And any crystal in this Cocoon would be nothing more than virtual, definitely nowhere near enough to send a message, if it provided any energy at all.
He set the portable computer he had brought with him on the ground, ignoring the nearby people walking about. If what he needed was crystal, the same crystal that could conduct energy as the pillar could...
He had— he could feel it still, the call of crystals in his blood. It had always been why he could do magic, even as he ignored the feeling most of the time. He could always feel it. And to get enough power to amplify a signal— he'd been something of considerable size. Bigger than the feeling he had, anyway.
He touched his left wrist tentatively, remembering the terror as he slowly watching his brand unfold. If this theory was true, or even if it wasn't, he had the ability to create a crystal that could be used to amplify power. A crystal that—
"Alexander," Hope whispered to himself, even though he knew that he had lost the ability to call upon the Eidolon. He had the crystals, but he had lost the ability to crush the power and send the call. But he had the crystal.
The green light was bright even in the full daylight, and Hope nearly jolted back as the translucently green star-shaped crystal emerged from where his brand had been, bright and floating in the cup of his hands, the power radiant in a way that felt almost tangible.
He closed his hands around it, just now starting to realize the murmuring around him. There were still people on the street, some of whose attention had been caught by the bright light.
The suit communications was far too complicated, but a simple two-way relay might be simple enough.
With that thought, Hope took off in a dash, leaving the computer on the ground next to the suits without a thought, sneakers skidding around corners as he made his way back toward the underground entrance.
"Whoa, there!" One of the guards called out as he ran past, but Hope gave no indication of having heard, nor did he slow down in the slightest as he sprinted past them through the entrance, knowing well enough that they wouldn't stop him, having already seen him in the presence of Lieutenant Mosley.
The lift down took forever, and Hope curled his fingers around the green crystal protectively. Having it out in the open made him feel strangely vulnerable, as if he was showing a part of himself that shouldn't be seen by the world. Other people weren't meant to see it, he knew. Other people weren't meant to wield it.
"'Cuse me, coming through!" He called out as the lift stopped and he ducked through a group of scientists, several of them crying out in surprise as he whizzed past, one struggling to hold onto a cup of coffee.
He was down by his own terminal in no time, Mosley still in the same place where he had been mere... was it minutes ago? Nearing half an hour at the very least?
"Estheim." The man greeted in surprise, sounding disgruntled. "I expected you to take longer."
"Not here for that." Hope tried to explain, although his words slurred together. "I've got a theory!"
He grabbed at the bulky device he had left atop the terminal with one hand and pressed the glowing green crystal close to the object with the other, breathing a silent prayer. Four hours left, maybe, and they still had to find a way out ifthis worked.
Taking a breath before fumbling for the switch, Hope held it for a moment as he heard the static on the line. But no, he couldn't be deterred by that.
"Maqui?" He asked, mouth pressed against the receiver. Please let this work! "C'mon, you said I could call if I needed to talk to you, right? I really need to talk to you right now!"
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End Day 2, part 3.
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AN: Wow, this is mostly just Hope's thoughts here, sorry about that. But to the anonymous reviewer, um, this universe does end with Maqui/Hope. This story doesn't have much in terms of romance if you'd rather avoid relationship stuff, since it's supposed to be more character development and 'this is what happens in the world' thing, but the universe it's set in is kind of based around the two of them. And I've been wanting to incorporate elements from FFXIII-2 into this story, I hope people have noticed hints! I've been collecting fragments (halfway through) and building on the story, and there are these little shorts written by Maqui in the fragments there that talk about watches he made (it's also a side mission) and stuff. And do the crystals work? Well, I don't know until it's written, I guess. We are maybe halfway through this story (jeebus, how long is this?), soooo~ hopefully people will continue to read!