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Part XIII

Evening of Terminus, Fourth Day of Duskmoon


Rosa's second trip to the world of Kane's Subconscious was already a very different experience. No longer did it appear as an infinite white plane against an equally blank backdrop; now, a thick gray fog smothered the view. There were no detectable objects inside the gloomy impenetrable haze—no Personas, Deviants, nor distant camps. If anything remained in this rapidly fading world, it was beyond Rosa's magical ability to sense.

This was not too surprising. She had already surmised that Kane's psyche had buckled under the pressure of so many mental manipulations. Meeting Samuel Cortez might have once saved Kane from an attempted suicide, but it certainly had not helped him to avoid the inevitable spiral of destruction.

A part of Rosa despised Kane for all the violence and harm he had caused, but another part of her sympathized with him, too. Somewhere hidden within these remnants of his mind was a young man who had once stood for honor and hope. Subsequent choices had led this boy down the wrong path, starting with his decision to spite his best friend and join the Order of Templars, and his eventual tailspin into madness.

Kane could have resisted. Over the course of his trials, he could have altered course, rejected Samuel's offer, and joined with Bram to spare the Conjurions. But instead, he chose to be an accomplice to genocide, putting him alongside some of the most reprehensible villains in history.

Then again, Kane's decision had been heavily influenced by the powerful hold that Samuel had over him. The Gnostic had delved into Kane's Memories and discovered his most personal secrets. He offered to hold back the public maiming and execution by the Templar forces, which had been Kane's punishment for betraying their leader at Dobb's Plain. Samuel then promised Kane a renewed relationship with Bram, which in his mind would have allowed him to become the leader and mentor he had always wanted to be.

Samuel had offered the perfect carrot to garner Kane's trust. It was easy for Rosa to see how desperate a person might become, when their only choice boiled down to a gruesome and humiliating death on one hand and a dream from the depths of their heart on the other. Such a person might be willing to do almost anything.

It seemed clear that Kane deserved some level of blame, but how much was not as obvious. He was not in a healthy mental state when Samuel found him, so his judgment was impaired from the very beginning. And had he not capitulated, he would have never survived the trials that followed.

In the end, Kane agreed to Samuel's demands, and by the time he returned from Ur, his loyalties were effectively secured. Not even an ounce of remaining emotional wherewithal remained for him to object to Samuel's subsequent commands. He became a willing slave, trapped in a relationship that he did not want and could not break. And yet, he still made one final grasp for independence.

When he visited Rosa in her prison cell, he had brought a photograph of him and Bram as children. He likely did not fully comprehend what he was doing. The motivation had come from deep within his Subconscious, and it represented something significant: the photograph was a moment in time when Kane was a child—pure and innocent—a period when he had nothing but the best intentions, hopes, and dreams. In a sense, the photograph was a symbol of his yearning to start over.

Somewhere deep inside, Kane must have felt the need to communicate his desire to Rosa. Perhaps it was his way of reaching out for help. Unfortunately, Rosa had not been in a position to grant it. And of course, Samuel had found out that she had visited his Memories, and he used his Ahriman's magic to force his slave back into submission. And the resulting emotional trauma was so great that Kane's psyche finally broke under the immense pressure.

Rosa sighed as she pressed on through the fog. She had no love for Kane, but she could not help but empathize with his situation. Now was her chance to find answers, and hopefully bring peace and closure to all the harm he had caused. Not just for her, but for Bram, too. And for all the people whom Kane had hurt along the way. But she had to do it quickly. Kane was dying, and when his last breath left his body, no magic on Gaia would be enough to recall his lost memories.

So Rosa wandered into his Subconscious. Now, as part of the process of death, the white entry world and the Memories were merging together. Rosa expected to see parts of Kane's past appear before her, right before disappearing forever. It was the brain's last gasp for life, and Rosa needed to act fast if she wanted to capture the right moments.

"Coping!" She decided it was worth calling out to the Persona who had done so much to help her. Besides, she was getting nowhere wandering on her own. "Coping, please answer!"

But there was nothing.

She raced through the fog, hoping to find at least a trace of something useful.

"Coping …."

Her shouts trailed off as a silhouette appeared in the distance. She readied a spell, just in case it was a Deviant. She approached cautiously. As the figure came into view, she realized he was not alone.

One figure, an exact duplicate of Kane dressed in dirty and tattered clothes, hung on a cross of wooden planks. His head hung low, and he looked sullen and miserable. However, a second figure stood opposite him, dressed in a black jerkin and dark trousers. Of course, the most distinctive and frightening aspect of this figure was the blur where his face should have been. It was almost like a smudge of ink, or a photograph that was badly out of focus.

"Coping …?" She somehow knew that the sullen-looking one had to be the Persona she sought. But if this were her manifested friend, he did not acknowledge her. Instead, he kept his head low, seemingly oblivious.

Meanwhile, the other figure spoke. Its voice was garbled and indistinct, just like its face. "You're trash. Everything you've ever done has resulted in failure."

Rosa noted a reaction from Coping. His shoulders slumped, and his head slid even lower. He seemed to take the words to heart, clearly feeling immense pain. Unabated, the blurry-faced Kane continued.

"You vowed to protect your country, but instead you betrayed its most venerated general. You vowed to lead, but instead you became a slave. You vowed to save lives, but instead you sowed death and destruction. You're trash. You've always been unwanted—a piece of garbage—ever since the day you were born."

Coping began to sob, and Rosa thought she knew what was going on. She suspected the blurry-faced Kane was the Deviant known as Despair—the one she feared from the very beginning. It seemed intent on demeaning its counterpart, who represented all that remained of Kane's self. Rosa believed she needed Coping's help to find her answers, so she decided to intervene.

"That's not true." She directed her argument to Coping, since she knew better than to engage with Despair. "No child is trash. People make mistakes, and they need to live and learn by them. But they are not born unwanted."

The blurry-faced Deviant turned to her. "What would you know? You despise This One more than anyone. Even His best friend has turned against Him. Is that not true?"

Rosa's lips tightened. How could she deny it? It was time to change tactics. "Every choice has its consequences, and sometimes they can tear friends apart. But there's always room for understanding. If there are good reasons behind bad actions, then we deserve to know why. Answers bring comfort … and closure."

Despair crossed its arms. "You see? Even this girl cannot defend what you've done. It's time for this world to fade away. There is no reason to exist."

"Rubbish!" Rosa walked in front of Coping, leaning forward so he would see her. She was careful to speak in the abstract and not refer to Kane directly.

"It's true that there is anger for what has been done, but that doesn't mean there isn't also room for understanding … or possibly forgiveness. Besides, it's clear that there's remorse as well, or else Despair's words would mean nothing. That means understanding the difference between right and wrong. I believe there's goodness still inside."

Unfortunately, the Persona did not answer. He just stared at the ground in silence. She reached out to him, lifting his head so he would look her in the eyes.

"Coping, please … you could have given up many times before, but you did not. You kept your fortress running strong, believing that things would eventually get better. Even when everything else looked bleak, you pressed onward. You must find that hope again. Don't give up now."

"Silence, Girl!" the Deviant hollered. "There is no forgiving This One, not even from you. You speak out of selfishness, not from love or compassion. You would use This One as a tool, just as His previous Master had done. For there is nothing good to come from what This One can offer."

Rosa ground her teeth in frustration. Part of what Despair said was true, but it was also just empty emotions with a one-track mind for talking nonsense! Despair would stop at nothing to snuff out Kane's will to live, and Rosa would have no hope of arguing directly against it. All she could do was focus on Coping. So she grasped his head in both her hands and spoke from her heart.

"I know mistakes were made. And I can't claim that forgiveness will be forthcoming. But I do know that reasons matter, and I want to help you to find the answers. So please … don't let this world disappear for nothing. Help me, so that I might give this world at least a small amount of dignity before it's all gone."

Coping's eyes began to focus. They locked on to hers as a tear drifted slowly down his cheek. "Rosa … I don't know what to say …."

His words were interrupted by a high-pitched squeal of frustration from Despair. All of a sudden, the fog rushed in and swept the Persona away. Rosa looked around to find that she was all alone. Cold air brushed across her face. She turned away to huddle for warmth.

When she opened her eyes, she saw a green mossy floor at her feet. Nearby, a stream of water rushed past. She was amazed by how real it looked. Then … an explosion!

She took cover, only to find herself at the precipice of a hill. At the bottom, families of tribesmen ran for cover as their village burned all around them. The scene was horrifying. So much senseless death, the tears of loved ones evaporating before they ever hit the ground. It was the Conjurion Village, and the scene was clearer and more realistic than any she had previously experienced in Kane's Memories.

A shadow approached from behind, and she almost jumped. But she quickly recognized the man in Gnostic armor, whose eyes were wide and transfixed at massive objects in the sky. High overhead, creatures the size of buildings flew through the air, casting spells of fire, ice, and lightning. But these were less important to Rosa than the man standing only a few spans away.

Bram … she wanted to reach out and embrace him. Memory or not, just feeling him in her arms would grant her such solace and delight. It had been so long. But the notion quickly vanished when she noted the anger in his eyes. It was pure unadulterated fury like she had never seen before.

"You son of a bitch," he roared, spraying equal amounts of spittle and words. "You knew all along, didn't you? This was never about killing a village chief, but of destroying the entire village—wasn't it!"

Rosa was crushed. She realized the words had been meant for Kane, but now she stood in his place—the target of Bram's rage. She took a few steps back, deeply hurt by all the hatred coming from the man she loved.

Bram stepped forward, closing the distance, his eyes crazed and bloodshot. "This is what the King of Angkor does with his new-found power? Find villages filled with innocents to use in a trust exercise?"

Rosa badly wanted to escape this nightmare. Perhaps it was all the recent trauma—the harrowing trials that drained her emotional stamina—because now she found it too difficult to stay calm in front of this memory. This man … who looked like the one she loved … appeared on the verge of wanting to kill her. She wanted to say something—anything—just to make this cruel manifestation calm down.

"No, Bram, it's not what you think!"

The knight bared his teeth. "Why I should listen to your lies any longer? Who do you serve?"

Rosa shook her head. It was far too real, and she had far too much of an emotional attachment. For a moment, she wondered if Kane had felt this way, too. Kane had been in her shoes, witnessing his best friend's rage. It must have been terribly difficult for him. She took a few more steps back, and her heel nearly skidded off the edge of the precipice. All she could think to do was to remind herself of the truth.

"No … this isn't real."

"Lies!" her beloved screamed, his face red with anger. "Everything you've said so far is alie!" He drew his blade, which pulsed with a dark purple halo. The poisoned end of a Gnostic's sword—her lover's sword—would kill her with a mere scratch. And it was pointed straight at her. She lost her strength, and her knees buckled.

It was just too much. She had survived on her own for weeks, partly because she kept the thought of being reunited with Bram always in the back of her mind. She endured so much pain and abuse, but maintained hope that she would be back in her lover's arms. She trusted that he would find her and save her before it was too late. But he never came.

Yet, here he stood—or at least, a too real image of him did. And it was poised to deliver a fatal blow that in the real world would have her writhing in agony until death claimed her. Just the mere thought made her want to weep. She buried her head in her hands and cried.

Only for a moment, though. She was quickly jarred back to alertness when a hand grabbed her by the head and drove her face into a pool of water. She squirmed, flailing wildly, desperate for air, confused about what was actually happening! Her lungs begged for relief, but she dared not drown herself by opening her mouth. But as much as she fought, the hand held her tightly, and her arms and legs were fastened by some kind of restraint.

She was almost ready to burst when the hand pulled back, dragging her head out of the water. She gulped as much air as she could, choking on whatever dribble fell into her throat.

"I will ask you one more time," a voice stated with a thick Koban accent. "Tell me which tent belongs to the Templar Grandmaster."

Rosa looked around to get her bearings. She was in a dark room, lit by torches, surrounded by Koban military. In front of her, the man who had spoken was pointing to a large cloth stretched across the far wall. Illustrated on the cloth were various dark rectangles, presumably a map of the Templar encampment.

"Well?" the man screeched. "We have given you plenty of time to study our map. Failure to answer promptly will earn you another dunk in the tank."

Rosa saw the trough of water in front of her, presumably where her head would end up if she failed to answer the question in a timely manner. These men were torturing her for information—or more accurately, she was in Kane's place on the day he betrayed the Templar Grandmaster.

Rosa was reminded that certain traumas within the Subconscious could trigger real consequences to her real-world body. If she drowned, it would likely result in a heart attack. Her life was in danger!

She had to think quickly, but with her hands tied, her spellcasting was limited. She had to stall.

"I—I—I will tell you," she stammered, trying to fill the void of silence. "But I need more time to study the map!"

"Stalling will not help you, Mister Harding," the Koban man announced. He raised his hand, which apparently signaled for the man behind her to commence torturing. Rosa tried to resist, but the hand grabbed her head and drove it forward.

Her body writhed in fear. She had been given no advanced warning to take a deep breath. Whatever air was in her lungs, it was not enough! Fearful of drowning, and with the elevated heart rate from her previous encounter, her body was in full panic. She squirmed and fought with all her might, but to no avail. She was on the verge of gagging, which would be the end of her. In a short time, her bodily reflexes would be stronger than her own willpower, and she would be done for!

But, joyously, the hand pulled back. She had thought it was all over, but—Gaia be blessed—she was still alive. Her lungs ached as she drew in the deepest of breaths. The relief was exquisite, but the onset of dread came just as quickly. Now was the time to act, because next time she might not be so lucky.

So she whispered the first spell that came to mind. A magical force cut through the trough, emptying the water onto the ground. At once, the scene flickered as Kane's memory failed to reconcile what had just happened with the record of what had actually happened. In moments, the restraints around Rosa's arms and legs vanished, and she was able to stand. By the time she was on her feet, she was back in a foggy, gray, empty oblivion.

She took a few deep breaths. The previous scene was gone, but her head and chest were still soaking wet. She spoke a few words of magic, and the water quickly evaporated. Poor Kane had no chance of resisting that kind of torture. He was doomed the moment he had been captured.

As for Rosa, she had to be more mindful of unexpected dangers in this unique psyche. She recited a few more spells in her head, ready for the next time something surprised her.

She did not need to wait long. Out in the distance, hidden by the fog, came a monstrous growl. Its low-pitched guttural undertones rippled through her body. Her prepared spell propelled her high into the air just as a black tentacle wriggled through the fog to grab her. Or at least, that was the best way to describe it. The appendage had no depth or texture. It was just a solid black shape that raced through the air at blinding speeds.

She narrowly dodged the attack, but now, her only manner of escape was to maneuver through the air, evading more black tentacles as they appeared from the nothingness. She wished she had spent more time mastering the art of flying when she was a student, but for now she would have to improvise. She used a number of well-placed and well-timed magical forces that kept her ping-ponging through the air.

Somewhere within the fog, something mammoth tromped through the world of Kane's Subconscious. It was the source of the tentacles, and each step sent loud reverberations across the barren landscape. And besides the dangerous black appendages that looked like they could slice through steel, there was also a palpable feeling of hatred and malice that permeated the air. There was no doubt that this was the Ahriman—or at least, some kind of manifestation that took on a shadow-form in order to exist within Kane's mind.

But if it were a shadow, then perhaps Rosa could defeat it. She thought back to a spell she had once learned, a powerful incantation for banishing evil spirits known as wraiths. These rare occurrences were manifestations of negative energy, usually the result of powerful wizards who destroyed their bodies with their own unethical experiments.

Somehow, the magic animated a semi-sentient shadow-form that resembled the former wizard. In order to destroy these wraiths, wizards developed a spell that produced an immense concentration of warmth and light. It was not too hot to scorch, but it was bright enough to destroy any shadow within the spell's radius. The name of that spell was Holy, and Rosa hoped it would work in this case, too.

The only problem was that she had learned the incantation a long time ago, and it was a fairly complex spell. As Rosa hurdled through the air, she tried to remember the mnemonic that she had created when she was still a wizarding student. She had to think about it in between mumbling the words to her force spell, so she could continue evading the black tentacles. As she hurdled through the air, she went over the words of the mnemonic in her head.

"And willing the swallow did follow and blow …."

She swerved, narrowly dodging a couple of tentacles that dove in her direction.

"The tallow from candle did tumble and flow …."

Quickly, she changed direction, soaring high above the quasi-material ground of Kane's Subconscious.

"Determined to serve and Delilah forego …."

She saw a gathering of tentacles right above her. She cast a small shield to block them, and then she was in freefall.

Just a few more words to the spell. She concentrated on the last bit. "All merit to swear it for no one to know."

Yes … it was working … she remembered!

In her excitement, she misspoke the last syllable of her force spell, which knocked her in the wrong direction. Another black tentacle came straight at her. She turned her body in midflight, but it was not enough.

The tentacle grazed her shoulder, ripping through skin and muscle, sending jolts of pain throughout her body. She stifled a scream to focus on the words to another spell that brought her safely to solid ground. The wound oozed, but given the limitation of white magic, she would not be able to heal herself. So she summoned a white cloth and spoke a few words to tie it around the wound as a tourniquet.

The pain was sharp, but luckily it did not appear to be infected with any kind of dark magic. She cast a barrier of protection in time to deflect another round of black tentacles. She gritted her teeth against the pain, speaking the words of a wind spell to clear the area of fog so that she could see in front of her.

A stiff breeze blew away the mist, revealing a nightmarish creature. It was the size of a house, and just like the tentacles, it was made of shadow-substance and lacked any kind of material structure or texture. In terms of shape, it vaguely resembled a tiger or puma, except for the numerous tentacles protruding from its back and sides. Rosa felt its malice and hate. These emotions seemed to spring forth the moment she laid eyes on it. When it saw her, it reared on its haunches, ready to charge.

Rosa had one chance. She readied the words to Holy and swallowed her fear so that she could speak the incantation properly. A tide of magical energy coursed through her body, growing with each word. She had only cast the spell once, long ago, in a remote region of the Saladina Desert. She had been there with her favorite teacher, the great Jean Vieillechaise. It was a controlled environment, since oftentimes, students practicing the spell would accidentally blind their peers with a pure white radiance strong enough to shine through walls of solid steel.

Rosa finished the last few words as the massive body of the Ahriman hurdled toward her. She set the origin point to burst forth right from the creature's center. The Ahriman was in mid-leap when the magic took effect, causing the creature to stumble and fall.

Rosa cast another quick spell to move her body out of its path of destruction. A blood-curdling howl escaped its lips, followed by a spire of pure white light. Then another spire protruded from the creature's side, tunneling straight through the shadowy flesh—followed by three more.

Rosa turned away, realizing that at any moment there would be hundreds if not thousands of such spires. So she sealed her eyes shut and hid them in her hands. Even so, the effects of the spell shined through, and she saw the outlines of her own ocular veins.

When the spell finally wore off, she opened her eyes to a purple-infused afterimage. She blinked a few times, hoping the effect would soon wear off. The dim gray fog slowly returned, and with it, remnants of shadow that fluttered through the air like tattered pieces of confetti. Off in the distance, a dim halo remained where the Ahriman had once stood.

Rosa let out a deep breath, albeit hesitantly. Her hand went to her shoulder, which throbbed with a dull pain. She could only hope the danger was truly over. However, her magical senses detected something creeping up behind her. She spun around quickly, only to find a young boy with blonde hair and deep brown eyes. He looked like the version of Kane from the photograph, though perhaps even a bit younger.

"You did it," he praised. "Thank you, Rosa. We can finally fade away in peace."

Rosa's heart ached to hear these words from the mouth of a child. But there was something familiar about the way the boy phrased his words. They sounded so much like the Persona she knew.

"Coping …?"

The boy nodded. "We're at the end. There's no salvation. Not for us. Not anymore. But at least we won't disappear knowing that monster was still here."

Rosa clutched her chest. After all that she had just experienced—seeing Kane's worst experiences through his own eyes, knowing how much it pained him to see Bram turn against him, experiencing the horrendous torture that resulted in his confession to the Koban military—after all that, Rosa was not ready to leave. Kane's past had been littered with bad choices, but he had also been the victim of incredible circumstances. Rosa's heart was not at peace with letting his life fade away without a real sense of closure. The mere notion almost brought her to the verge of tears.

"It can't be over yet. There are still so many unanswered questions."

The boy reached out and took her by the hand. "Perhaps, but you've already done more for us than you know. We now know the truth about our past. Do you want to see?"

Rosa did not understand what Coping meant, but if there was something he wanted to show her, then she very much wanted to see it. She nodded enthusiastically. "Yes. Please."

Coping led her by the hand into the fog. After a few steps, the outline of a building emerged. It was an old dilapidated house under a towering oak. Rosa's body stiffened as she remembered the harrowing scene that had once transpired there.

Coping pulled her forward. "It's alright," he assured. "Don't be afraid."

Rosa found something oddly trustworthy about the young boy, so she followed him into the house and up the back stairwell. Once inside, the air was heavy, and once again the grainy artifacts and distorted images of a repressed memory returned. As before, voices came from the top of the stairs. She took each step deliberately, remembering the fiercely violent woman who had laid fists upon her own toddler son.

At the top of the stairs, she heard a splash of water. She opened the door and entered the scene unable to breathe. Off to the side, toddler Kane played with his blocks, while his mother fawned over his baby brother. Bale giggled as Kane's mother showered him with affection. Rosa cringed, knowing how the scene had once played out.

"Looks like I had better get another towel," she announced while placing an index finger on the child's nose. The endearing little boy tittered gleefully.

Then, glaring at her other son, she took on a much sterner tone. "Kane … Kane! Come over here. Now! Watch over your brother Bale while I'm gone. And don't take your eyes off him!"

It was excruciating for Rosa to hear those words a second time. All her triggers were being pressed, and she so badly wanted to turn away and run down the stairs. But when she took her eyes off of Kane's mother, they fell onto her silent companion—the young Coping—whose expression pleaded with her to keep watching. So, against her better judgment, she forced herself to stay and watch.

Kane's mother walked right by her on her way to get the extra towel. Rosa cringed, wanting to be as far away from this woman as possible. As the mother passed, Rosa felt a subtle breeze brush against her face, which surprised her. Somehow, the merging of the Memories and Subconscious were subject to a different set of rules. The actors within the memory were more than mere visions. They had substance. And although Rosa no longer had access to the Time Tunnel, somehow Coping was able to control the Memories. Perhaps it was because of his attachment to the Subconscious world.

Rosa watched more of the scene unfold. She held her breath when young Kane rose up from his blocks and headed toward the tub. Her thumbnail somehow ended up in her mouth, a sign that her nerves had reached an apex and she could no longer control her tics. She was about to witness fratricide, and the very thought chilled her core. Coping squeezed her hand, signaling that she needed to pay attention. So she kept her eyes glued, even though she so badly wanted to tear them away.

As she watched, she started to realize that something was different. She had remembered young Kane placing his hands upon his brother's shoulders, slowly forcing him down the side of the tub. But this time, young Kane merely watched his brother fondly. Rosa was jarred when the toddler Kane finally spoke.

"I wish Mom would let us play together, Bale. I think she loves you more because Daddy left … and it was my fault. But I'll never leave you. I'll stay here and protect you. Always."

Rosa was stunned. Kane did not resent or blame his brother at all. In fact, he must have been quite fond of him.

After gazing at his baby brother a bit longer, young Kane returned to his blocks. Only moments later, the infant Bale slid down the side of the bathtub, all by himself. It was clear that Kane had never murdered his brother. The vision had been a lie concocted by the Ahriman to leave Kane vulnerable and make him easier to control.

When Kane's mother returned, she was of course devastated. However, she was far too consumed with grief to blame or abuse her other son. Kane merely played with his blocks, while his mother coddled the dead infant.

It was clear that Kane's mother had a special place in her heart for Bale, while directing unnecessary abuse at Kane. Young Kane seemed to think it had to do with his father, who had left the family when Kane was still a child. Rosa knew next to nothing of the Harding family, but if there was a connection between Kane's father and his mother's cruelty, then she needed to find out more.

Of course, another thought had also crossed her mind. Young Kane mentioned something about wanting to protect his baby brother, and that got Rosa thinking. If the trauma of Bale's death remained with Kane as he grew older, it explained his unnatural relationship with Bram. In a sense, Bram was like the little brother that Kane never had. Bram was a boy for Kane to protect, a way of making amends for failing Bale. And as Bram grew and matured later in life, Kane took it personally, because Bram had essentially robbed him of his role as protector.

It was a good working hypothesis, but Rosa needed to learn more. Unfortunately, the Memories and the Subconscious were merging, and she no longer had access to the Time Tunnel. However, Coping had taken her to the memory of Bale's death. He clearly had certain abilities that Rosa lacked, and although he had reverted to the likeness of a child, Rosa still needed his strength in order to find the right answers.

Coping looked up at her. "That's what I wanted to show you. We are pleased with the truth, Rosa. Now, we can finally rest in peace."

"No, not yet," Rosa insisted. "There are too many unanswered questions. We need to know more."

Coping stared at the ground, where wisps of fog now began to obscure even the surface of the floor itself. "I'm sorry, but there is no more. We don't remember anything else of significance."

Rosa figured that the most meaningful memories might have been repressed along with Kane's other traumas. But there were ways of delving deeper. Rosa had successfully used Anchor Points when she had last visited the Memories. Perhaps what had worked well for her might also work for Coping. She just needed to get the Persona to trust her.

"Coping, we can't give up. I can help you to remember."

The young boy shook his head. "You've already done so much. Please … let this world fade away knowing that we were able to find peace."

"No!" Rosa was way too invested at this point. "That's not enough. It can't be! I believe in this world. I didn't always give it credit, but now I believe there is goodness deep inside. I'm convinced there was a time when this world was loved and brought up with honor and respect. And I intend to prove it. Please, give me an opportunity to show this to you!"

The boy looked genuinely grateful, but still unsure. "I don't understand. This world has always been despised. We're trash. How would you expect to prove otherwise?"

Rosa took the boy by his shoulders and hugged him. "Don't you ever listen to what Despair told you! He's wrong, and I'll prove it. Trust in me."

Young Coping nodded slowly. "What do you want me to do?"

Rosa smiled. "First, I want to know more about the father. What can you tell me?"

Coping's lips puckered and his nose scrunched, making a face that looked terribly sad and depressing. "Father left a long time ago. We don't remember much, but he was good to us. He had rules, but he never tried to hurt us when we broke them."

Rosa had an idea. Coping might not consciously remember Kane's father, but it was possible that there were remnants of memories that still existed. And Rosa had a good idea where she might find them.

"Try to visualize the home you grew up in. Take me as far back as you can remember."

A cold breeze blew away the fog in front of Rosa to reveal a long dark hallway. She and Coping stepped into it, and she soon recognized it as belonging to the lower level of Kane's house. It was adjacent to the foyer, and it was clear based on the home's condition that it predated the time when it had fallen into disrepair.

Of course, the place was empty. This was because Coping was not remembering a specific instance, but rather a general imprint formed by an accumulation of memories, acquired over hundreds of times traversing this same hallway. The air felt still, as if time had stopped, but no one could tell, since nothing was in motion.

Rosa peered into each of the adjacent rooms, looking for clear imprints that she could use as Anchor Points for Coping. She led the young boy through the house by his tiny hand. Eventually, she found what she was looking for.

"Coping, could you please tell me who's in this painting?"

She pointed to a picture that hung above a bureau in what appeared to be a study. Quite likely, it was his father's study, and with any hope, it was a family portrait. Coping approached the painting and squinted at it. Ignoring the pain in her shoulder, Rosa took the young boy into her arms and helped him to get a better look.

The Persona began by pointing to a woman who sat in a plain-looking chair. "That's Mother." Beside her, a man was seated in an adjacent chair, balancing an infant on his lap. The woman rested her hand on the man's shoulder. "And that's Father."

Rosa was overjoyed. Coping had not been able to remember Kane's father unaided, but in the right context, he was able to recall what the man looked like. And after studying the painting a bit longer, Rosa hoped to use the image as an Anchor Point.

"Coping, I want you to focus on Father's face. See if you can remember anything else about him." Coping scrunched his eyes in concentration, and Rosa thought of another good idea. "Think back. I want you to take us to a moment when Father was here. Think about a time when the rules were broken, but he was not angry."

Rosa felt a shift in the house. The study looked no different than before, but the scene itself looked grainier. It seemed that Coping had taken her further back in time, to a period where there were gaps in Kane's memory. The graininess was an artifact of that distortion.

Outside the study, she heard a series of footsteps signaled by a creaking floorboard. With Coping in her arms, she went to investigate.

Creeping slowly down the corridor was a very young Kane. He could not have been more than two years old. And as soon as Rosa noticed him, she also realized that Coping had regressed further backward in age. He seemed to be matching the Kane from the memories.

"Father told me to stay in my room after dark," Coping explained. "I wasn't supposed to be out, but I heard voices."

Indeed, Rosa detected a faint conversation between two people, but the murmurs were too faint to make out any words. A groggy and half-asleep Kane stumbled through the hall toward the kitchen. But as he moved forward, the voices clarified. Rosa looked ahead to the kitchen, where a man and woman suddenly appeared out of thin air.

The room itself was quite clean and had the appearance of a wealthy residence. The man was Kane's father, and he was dressed in a business suit, as if he had recently walked out of a bank or government office. However, Rosa did not recognize the woman. She was a pretty girl, young, with long golden hair tied back in a thick braid. Both she and Kane's father appeared to be enjoying a humorous conversation. They giggled and smiled in between sentences.

As the tiny and restless Kane approached, fingers rubbing his eyes, the two adults stopped their conversation in mid-sentence.

"Oh, boy," Kane's father muttered. "Looks like we woke him up."

The woman was intrigued. "You didn't tell me you had children," she noted with a hint of concern.

The father offered a repentant grunt, but quickly passed it off. "Yes, well … Leah, I'd like you to meet Kane, my son. Now that he's learned to walk, I find him wandering off all the time."

If there was any tension before, it quickly melted. In fact, Leah looked enchanted. "He looks just like you." She smiled widely and giggled. "Are you sure we won't be visited next by the boy's mother?"

Kane's father laughed. "Hardly. I already told you that she's off visiting her mother in Sakor. She won't be back until tomorrow at the earliest."

Leah looked relieved. "It's just this one, right?"

Kane's father rolled his eyes. "Yes, I'm not hiding a litter of children from you, dear."

Leah wriggled her nose. "Alright. Can I see him, at least?"

Kane's father smiled widely as he picked up young Kane in his arms. "Sure."

He brought Kane close to Leah, who examined him closely. She then used her thumb and forefinger to give his nose a small tug. "He's absolutely darling!"

Kane's father set his eyes on the girl, and the lust was unmistakable. Rosa felt her heart sink. It was only a matter of time before he set his son down and delivered a long and passionate kiss.

Rosa was disgusted that a man would think it appropriate to expose his son to his affair! He must have figured Kane was too young to understand, but still … such brazen disrespect for what was proper … it was a disgrace!

However, Rosa's instincts told her she was only scratching the surface. To be sure, she needed to find out more about the affair, including the aftermath and how it affected Kane and his mother. That meant she needed more from Coping.

"Coping … about this girl, Leah? How does she make you feel?"

The child shuddered, as if being reminded of a terrible memory.

"She caused a lot of pain, didn't she?" Rosa did not want to lead the witness, but she felt that a bit of prompting might help the little Persona to remember something new.

Coping nodded slowly.

"Okay," Rosa urged, speaking gently. "I want you to think back. Take your time. Take me to the place you had in mind."

Coping stared out into space, and once again Rosa felt the room shift. The lighting changed … dimmer … darker. More voices emerged, growing ever louder. Before she knew it, she was in the middle of a highly escalated argument. Raging mother and father confronted each other from across the room. On one side, Kane's father stood in front of his mistress, protecting her from what appeared to be a vicious verbal attack. Meanwhile, Kane's mother stood opposite, hurling what Rosa assumed to be a string of raging expletives.

Of course, the actual words were muffled and indecipherable. After all, they had come from what Kane remembered, and he had merely been an unnoticed presence standing at the bedroom doorway. He would not have recalled the precise words of such a toxic and relentless argument, but it was clear that the affair had finally reached its tipping point. Kane's mother had caught her husband and his mistress in flagrante, and she was letting her pain be known.

Of course, there was one thing that Rosa found most surprising. As the target of such a verbal attack, Rosa expected Leah to be mortified. But instead, her eyes were dark and threatening—the kind that promised vengeance.

Without warning, Kane's mother ceased her assault. Her eyes had locked onto something in Rosa's direction. For a moment, Rosa thought the mother had somehow noticed her. But then she realized that Kane's mother had actually caught sight of her son.

Rosa's body stiffened as she wondered what this woman would dare do next. Surely, she would not attempt to punish her toddler son for what his father had clearly done. Rosa held her breath as the mother quickly shuffled across the room and down the hall, straight for young Kane. If Rosa could have intervened, she would have blocked the woman's path. But all she could do was watch passively.

"Come here, baby. Come to Momma."

Rosa blinked a few times in disbelief. Kane's mother very gently took Kane into her arms and left the household. And as soon as she was gone, Kane's father and mistress disappeared.

Rosa took the time to breathe, thinking that she had just pinpointed a crucial time in Kane's past when his mother was not an abusive monster. Somehow, between that moment and the death of Kane's little brother, all that had changed. Rosa assumed Kane's mother must have been pregnant with Bale at the time, since relations with the father were unlikely to improve. Also, the pregnancy must have been early, since it did not show. Given that Bale was roughly one year old when he drowned in the bathtub, there must have been about a year and a half time span in between.

A lot could have happened in those eighteen months. Kane's father had apparently left the family, and Rosa presumed he took his wealthy income along with him. The financial burden must have been terrible on Kane's mother, but still … that did not seem to be enough of a reason to turn to abusing the child. Rosa had to keep searching. There was only one other constant in the equation.

"Coping … was there ever another time that Leah was seen in this home?"

The boy in Rosa's arms nodded slowly.

"Could you take me there, Coping? I promise … it will all be over soon."

Rosa hoped she could keep that promise. Based on the darkness around the edges of the scene, she knew she was running out of time. Kane would soon be dead.

When the room shifted, she noticed a young Kane once again wandering through the house. This time, he had a blanket in one arm and was sucking the thumb of his free hand. It was almost endearing. Despite the horrors he will have committed as an adult, Rosa started to find herself growing fond of the young Kane. The toddler version was delicate and untarnished, and Rosa found it hard to hold onto any previous resentment. She wanted to help this poor soul now more than ever.

So she followed the child, wondering where he might lead her. He wandered over to the steep stairwell, climbing one step at a time, using both hands to pull himself up. Rosa knew he would lead her to the upstairs loft—the infamous room that would one day be the location where Kane's little brother would die. She shivered as she once again climbed the very same steps.

When Rosa reached the top, she saw that the décor of the room now served as a bedroom. She looked over to the bed in the corner, and the hairs stood up on the back of her neck.

Kane's mother appeared to be asleep, but hovering over her was none other than Leah! Rosa dashed over to get a closer look. At first she wondered if the father's mistress was attacking Kane's mother, but she realized that was not the case. Leah had no weapons, only a set of fingertips, which she held to the mother's temples. Rosa's heart caught in her throat. The way Leah mumbled under her breath … she was casting a spell to enter into the Subconscious!

Rosa gasped. How could she not have thought of it earlier …?

"Oh!" Leah uttered the remark when she caught sight of young Kane. "It's you."

The girl's expression darkened, and her lips slowly curled into a devious smirk. "You always seem to sneak up at the right moment—don't you, you little brat?"

Rosa angered at Leah's response. Her arms were still wrapped around young Coping, but her hands clenched into fists.

"I have an idea," Leah continued. "Let's have a little fun with Mommy. She tried to humiliate me, but wait till you see what kind of fool I make out of her!"

Rosa held Coping close to her chest. She wanted to weep. It seemed that Leah had training in the White Arts, and she was using her magic to purposefully antagonize the Deviants inside of Kane's mother. Kane had always assumed that his mother was deranged. But in fact, she had incurred the wrath of a jilted sorceress.

The rest all made perfect sense. Kane's mother should have been diagnosed and healed by another trained wizard, but somehow—tragically—she never received treatment. Kane's father then left the family, leaving his ex-wife with no income and with limited mental capacity to raise a child. Her impaired condition made her irritable with Kane and likely spiraled into depression and madness following Bale's death.

Rosa had to wonder, though … Bale had never been affected by the spell, even though Kane's mother was pregnant with him when Leah enchanted her. Then again, Leah might not have known about the pregnancy. Most white wizards had the spells to find out, but perhaps Leah had never thought to check. Perhaps she had purposely directed her vengeance onto the innocent Kane, who had nothing to do with her love affair or supposed humiliation.

It was profound to consider how the consequences of Leah's spell played out. Kane became the target of so much hatred and vitriol. He would go through life feeling shame and self-doubt from years of abuse, combined with the guilt of his brother's death. He would compete for Bram's attention and join the Templars out of a need that could never be fulfilled. He would face death at the hands of prosecutors, and out of desperation, pledge himself to Samuel Cortez. And finally, with nothing else to live for, he would throw away his only friendship for a false promise of power.

Rosa's heart was in pieces. She had discovered the truth, but too late to save this dying soul. The room dimmed as Kane's body slowly lost its grip on its own Subconscious. Even Coping looked like he was about to fade away.

"Did you find what you were looking for?" the Persona asked.

By now, all actors in this memory had faded, so Rosa put the child onto the nearby bed, feeling too depressed to hold him any longer. She wiped away a tear. "Yes … but I wish I could have done more."

Coping looked pale, as if he too were dying. He curled up on the bed, his body shivering from an unseen draft. Rosa sniffed and wiped away another tear as she drew the blankets up to cover him.

"You've done so much, Rosa. Thank you for the closure. But you should leave, now. You won't want to be here when we all disappear."

Rosa started bawling. She could not help it. It was just too unfair. Kane had been robbed of his mother's love, the most precious thing an innocent child has. And it had been taken from him by a shameless and jealous woman. Rosa knew that Kane's mother had loved him once. If only Kane could feel his mother's love, just once ….

Rosa drew a sharp breath. An idea quickly came to mind, and she hoped it was not too late. "Coping … Coping, please." She tried to wake him.

The sickly-looking boy stirred from his sleep and turned his pale face to Rosa.

"Coping, before this happened to Mother, she loved you. You weren't born to be hated. It was all Leah's fault. All I need you to do … is to take me to a time before any of this ever happened."

Coping struggled to keep his eyes opened. "I … I don't think I can. And if I try … you might not be able to leave."

Rosa thought about the risks. There was never much literature when it came to the Subconscious of a dying patient. But it was not like Kane was slipping into a coma. If he died while Rosa was inside, she figured it would simply force her back to the outside world. Then again, Coping seemed to suggest some kind of risk that Rosa did not know about. Even so, she would not hesitate. Her choice was to proceed forward. She wanted to be there for Coping until the very end.

"It's all right," she told him. "Please take me."

As Rosa watched, Coping slowly disappeared. So did the bed, as well as all the other furniture. All that remained was a dark room, lit by a tiny light in the center. Also in the center was a crib. Rosa wandered over slowly, holding her breath. There was an infant child inside, who stared up toward the ceiling with nothing but innocence.

And then a woman appeared beside him. Kane's mother. And she looked down at her son with such supreme adoration that tears returned to Rosa's eyes. But these were not tears of sadness. In that moment, all that existed in Kane's Subconscious was the infinite purity of a mother's love. Kane's mother picked him up and held him in her arms, and no evil in the world could stand between them.

At last, Kane had found his untarnished memory—a connection with his mother that he had waited his entire life to experience—a moment of bliss before all had been taken from him. Rosa wiped the tears from her eyes, joyous that she could experience it with him. But as she watched the beautiful scene, something began to change.

A white glow slowly enveloped the babe, shining so bright that Rosa had to shield her eyes. Overcome with curiosity, she peered through the blinding light to see what was going on.

At the core of the mother's embrace, small orbs emanated from baby Kane's body and floated through the air. As they drifted away, Rosa saw the outlines of a person. It existed just for a moment, and then the image faded away. It was hauntingly beautiful, and somehow Rosa believed she understood what it meant. Kane's Personas were being released. Each one, now exposed to this heartfelt memory, was ready to be reborn.

Rosa felt incredible serenity. The weight of so much sorrow had suddenly been lifted, and the room itself brightened. Hundreds of white orbs filled the air, adding beauty and wonder to the ever increasing brightness and intensity.

Rosa eventually had to seal her eyes shut. She wanted to witness every last bit of it, but it was too much. A chorus of faint breaths caught her ear.

"Thank you," they said in unison.

When Rosa next opened her eyes, she found herself in the original white Subconscious—which she was surprised to see still existed. And above her, stretching across the horizon, was a spectacular blue sky. She brought her hands to her chest, where her heart beat loudly with excitement.

"You did it," a voice called out from behind.

Rosa spun around to find Coping, once again in adult form.

She was utterly confused. "But … but I thought … that everything was going to disappear."

Coping approached, looking equally bewildered. "I suppose I did as well. And yet, here we both are."

"But how?" Rosa wondered.

Coping smiled. "Because you were willing to give us something that no one else ever did. You believed in us, from the bottom of your heart."

Rosa felt like she was going to burst. "Then, does that mean this world will live on?"

Coping nodded. "I suppose it does."

Rosa took a deep breath. "But what now? Does everything go back to normal?"

Coping shrugged. "I don't think we know what normal is … but one thing's for sure: we've never known peace like this before. I shouldn't even exist."

Rosa realized the potential paradox. Coping was typically a Persona that the mind created in order to deal with trauma. But with peace now restored, he was no longer needed. Even so, he was still present.

"I feel like the world still needs me," he said, as if knowing what Rosa was thinking. "At least, for the time being."

Rosa understood. "You're probably right. This is a time for healing. Things won't be perfect all at once, but perhaps they'll get there, a little at a time."

Coping extended a hand, and Rosa took it, pulling him closer into her embrace. She was not afraid at all. Not anymore. There was never a Persona quite like this one. He returned the hug hesitantly.

"Will you ever be back?" he asked.

Rosa sighed, taking a step back. "No." She felt a bit melancholy for saying so, but she tried her best to hold back the tears. "This world belongs to you … and the others. But I won't ever forget you."

Coping looked like he was fighting back tears of his own. "We won't forget you, either."

Rosa smiled. It was time for her to leave. "Kane …."

The white world faded away. She was back in her prison cell, alongside a former Templar who stirred in his sleep. Groggily, Kane rose to a sitting position, pausing a moment to get his bearings. When his eyes landed on Rosa, his lip quivered.

It started with a small sob, but then he wept openly. Rosa was not afraid to take him in her arms. It was a new beginning for him, almost like being reborn, starting over. He would remember all that had transpired while Rosa and Coping were together.

It would take time, but the healing was long overdue. Rosa would wait for the tears to end, and then she and Kane would leave together.