PALACE OF ORDER, "HEAVEN," WORLD D.

SIEGE OF CASTLE COSMOS.

THE MAN IN BLACK.

CRACK! Was the noise that my mailed hand made as I struck Cid Pollendina across the face. Beneath the armor and cape, I was still visibly fuming, and all but frothing at the mouth. It was all I could do to keep myself from shouting, from tearing him in half. It was preposterous, and horrendous at the same time.

"Don't you ever call me a villain again," I hissed. "Don't you ever preach to me about the difference between good and evil. Don't you ever let me hear you utter the word freedom again. Not after this. Not after this."

"What we have done-," he began.

"WHAT YOU HAVE DONE," I roared over him, "Is take an innocent woman, break her into a thousand tiny pieces, and build a monster in her place. How dare you? How dare you speak to me of a desire to free Heaven from tyranny after this? What in the name of the Lunar Father were you thinking?"

"We didn't break her. That was the doing of The Liar."

"One Cid be damned with all others," I cursed, "Liar or Doctor or Scholar, you're all the same. It doesn't matter who started it, you took the broken remains of this woman and made a MONSTER."

"Is that any way to speak of her?"

"Is there any other way? I'm not going to avoid the subject when it so brazenly dances before me! You have all been damned fools, and if I had the might, I would cast all of you into the depths this instant. You make contact with Matoya, or something she left lying around, and you ask the damn thing to drive you insane, then you follow it's advice and patch up a broken soul with OMEGA? Do you even know what you do? This is madness! This is evil unbridled! How can you do this?"

"What else could we do? The girl was broken, we had to fix her."

"And a fine job you did! You should have left her broken and turned yourselves over to the Gods. What do you think would happen to you if her sister found out? Have you ever met Claire Farron, Cid? You don't mess with her sister. The last time that happened worlds ended."

"You think we would go into this without getting a little blood on our hands? You of all people should know change doesn't come unless you do that." His comment was punctuated by the blood in his beard and on my gauntlet.

"Your revolution is over," I hissed, grabbing his throat and thrusting him into the wall. "You are mine, now, Cid. Someday, even if you never thank me, your wife and daughter will. I am saving you from this. You work for me now, is that clear?" He nodded. "You are my eyes and ears in The Scholar's camp. You will inform me of his every move, of every move Obsidian makes. You will do that for me, or I will take your daughter and do to her what you did to this girl, is that clear?"

"You wouldn't!"He croaked.

"I of all people understand that a little blood on the hands is necessary for change." I said, challenging him to defy me. He nodded his assent, and before I could release him, a blast of energy knocked me onto my side, throwing my helmet from me. When the dust cleared, I saw the figure of Cidolfas Orlandeau, The Saint, standing over me, naked sword at my face.

"The battle is over!" He announced to no one in particular. "Your fiendish friends are routed, and Chaos is dead at the hands of the Warrior of Light. Your rebellion is over, and all that remains is for God's justice to be poured out over your head, fiendish demon!" He called over his shoulder, "Find your brothers, Engineer. I believe the Goddess wishes to speak to your leader. You . . . would be wise to prevent that from happening."

Cid Pollendina ran as fast as his legs could carry him. He didn't so much as look back as he left. For that, I suppose I should be grateful, for, when he had left, The Saint extended a hand to help me to my feet. Wary, I stood on my own. He did not seem to take offense at that.

"The flower girl sends her regards," he said.

I allowed myself to recover from the shock of hearing that before speaking. "Is that so?" I asked, not sure whether he was telling the truth or not, "What else did this flower girl tell you?"

"She asked me what I would do for the ones I love," he said. "I am about to do something I should not for them."

"Oh?"

"I am about to return your helmet."

"Ah. I'm sorry, what?"

"You are being arrested for your part in this attack. You will be arraigned before The Gods, and undoubtedly deposited in the Prison at Sanity's Edge. Before that, though, as a Citizen of Heaven, you will be in my custody. And now, I am going to return to you your helmet."

He held my helmet out to me. I took it from him, confused until I looked into it. Inside it was a scrap of folded paper and an all-purpose key. I had paused only for a moment, so it was somewhat awkward when I put the helmet on without removing either.

"Have you any last requests as a free man?"

"Only that I do not be jailed with the likes of the Cloud of Darkness, Kuja, or Jecht. I cannot stand that lot."

"You will undoubtedly be jailed with them, as a spite for your crimes."

"Please, no!" I feigned misery. "Jecht reeks, the Cloud of Darkness is indecent, and Kuja unnerves me."

"Quiet, you! I will ensure you are personally locked away with them forever."

"Have mercy!"

"As you did to the angels you trampled on your way in? I think not! Now march, or I'll send another Hallowed Bolt down your spine!"

Submissive, obedient, and defeated, I followed The Saint's command. He marched me at sword point through the shambles of Cosmos' Palace of Order. Here and there demons and Fiends were being rounded up and cut down. Without Chaos to embolden them, His forces were quickly falling apart. I wondered, as we walked, how all of this played into His game. Indeed, I wondered how this battle figured into the game in general. Who was winning today? On the surface, Cosmos most certainly was, but beneath that, I could not be sure. To beat the Gods of Gods at their game, I needed keener wits than my own.

Atop the roof of the Palace of Order was a scene I had not thought possible. Lying in their own blood were those who Chaos had made my comrades. Sephiroth's arms were broken, Ultimecia's femur snapped in twain, the Cloud of Darkness had a gash running from her shoulder to her waist, Jecht's teeth were scattered about him, Exdeath lay in four pieces, Kuja's tail was in a knot about his throat, Mateus had fallen apart again, Kefka was impaled on half of Sephiroth's sword, with the other half running through his head, and despite all of this, they were all still alive to some extent or another. Chaos' body was crumpled not far from theirs, with the Warrior of Light seated atop it, his sword still embedded in the God of Discord's forehead.

In a fluid motion he leapt from atop Chaos and removed his sword from His skull, bringing it to bear before me. His armor was stained red with the blood of our company, his sword shining beneath our God's life, his eyes burning between locks of white blood painted red with carnage, helmet broken on the ground, cape tattered and scorched.

"One man did this?" I asked in naked amazement.

"For my Lady," he said, "I would do yet more. This uprising has cost you everything, traitor. Do you wish to resist?"

I swallowed. If I did not, Chaos, upon rising, would learn of it, and my cover would be blown. If I accepted, the Warrior would not think twice about bringing me to the level of my comrades. I was spared the need to answer by The Saint, who said, "At ease, soldier. I have subdued this one, and he will go quietly to the courts of Heaven."

The Warrior eyed Cid, then returned his gaze to me. "As you say, Saint. But if he threatens my Lady, I will supersede your authority."

"I will hand you a sword myself," Orlandeau replied graciously, bowing for effect.

The Warrior relaxed a bit, then walked the line of my fallen comrades again. "What was the meaning of this attack? My Lady has done nothing to harm any of you. And unprovoked all of Hell turns against Her! What mad lies has Chaos fed you, to think that one as innocent as She is worthy of your harm? Tell me! What was the motive for this attack!"

"Chaos told us the truth," Sephiroth grunted. "A truth which evades you, even now."

"What truth? What did he say?"

Sephiroth began to laugh. "Poor little dog, you're so enamored with your slave-master that you don't even know what is happening in your own castle. Shameful, that I should fall before a man so weak-minded as yourself."

The Warrior strode toward Sephiroth, meaning to cleave his head off, but before he could, I interposed myself. "Allow me to explain for my comrades," I said, "I imagine I need to begin rehearsing a testimony for The Gods as it is."

"Speak, then," he said, "And make it better than your friend's."

"I will tell you what I was told. It will be your own decision to decide to accept the truth, and whether or not it pleases you, I can make no guarantee."

"Golbez is an accomplished manipulator," Orlandeau warned. "His words could well be fraught with hidden meaning."

"I will take my chances. I want to know the meaning of this. All of this."

"Chaos came to free Himself from a fate worse than death," I began. "He has been cursed to eternally fight Cosmos. He supposed that slaying Her would free Him from His fate. We came for the same reason. We have been cursed to forever fight the warriors Cosmos has used in these wars. The time was coming for another of these little games between the Gods, and so we rallied to Chaos' side to end things here in Heaven, rather than be returned to the realm where these battles take place."

"Your lies are poor, for one so heavily commended," he said, "I have no memory of these wars."

"You would not."

"How are you aware of these things, then?"

"You misunderstand me. I said that you would not remember. The warriors of Chaos all recall their service to Him."

"But the Warriors of Cosmos do not?"

"That is correct. But you still assume too much. The Warriors of Cosmos are all aware of these wars, and their binding to them."

"But I do not know of this war you claim is so widely known, nor have I any memory of it. Either I never participated, or no such conflicts exist, and there is only the endless struggle your master wages against My Lady."

"The war DOES exist, and you HAVE fought in it. I suspect this is not all you fail to recall."

Orlandeau interjected, "Have caution, warrior, for this no longer pertains to your question."

"I would hear it, nonetheless. What else don't I remember, demon? The day the Gods wore purple hats? That My Lady is really a man masquerading in a woman's body and we all simply are unaware? That She consumes men? Say on, have your mockery ere I cut your tongue from your skull."

"What is your name?" I asked, gambling that the darkest rumors surrounding him were true.

"Sol, the Warrior of Light."

"And who gave you this name?"

"My Lady, of course!"

"Of course? It is not common for Gods to name servants. What were you called before that?"

"Be . . . fore? There was no before. I have always served My Lady."

"Have you, though? Who were you in life?"

"I . . . I was a servant of-,"

"Were you? How did you die?"

"Well I-,"

"I submit that you did not die, nor were you ever born. Your life has simultaneously ended and not yet began. You don't have any memories, because there is nothing to remember."

"What madness is this?"

"Not madness, truth. You are a paradox. You are and yet you never were. At least, not anymore you weren't."

"Am . . . I? I remember . . ."

"You remember what, exactly?"

By this point, he had sunk to the ground, and what functional eyes my comrades had had fallen on him. The greatest, mightiest warrior in all of Heaven and Hell, the very definition of Knights, Fighters, Warriors and Soldiers, was now kneeling before me in confusion. He stared at me, something like confusion and terror and behind it assuredly a great empty feeling as the walls of reality came crashing down upon him evident in his eyes. In the remaining eyes I could see a terrible awareness, a perception, a dawning upon them of things they were not yet to know. I needed to end this, and I needed to do it now, before I played my cards before too many, but before I could, the Warrior spoke.

"Flowers," he said. "A world full of flowers. Green fields, far as the eye can see, rolling and rising and sinking, with flowers all around them. A white castle shining on the horizon. A bridge at sunset. A floating fortress. My Lady, no, a woman with red hair? Both? Six. Four. Two Thousand. I . . . flowers . . ."

"What kind of flowers?" I could not help but ask.

"Every kind."

"One in particular?"

"A rose."

"A rose?"

"Crystals. One. Four. Six. Two Thousand."

"Now look what you've done," Orlandeau said, sighing and shaking his head. "You've gone and broken him." Before I could answer, he strode toward me, and with a single blow, knocked me out cold.