Maqui flexed his wrist and tested the manacles holding him down. Strained against them and found give. The metal bit into his skin, edges sharp against where his gloves should be. He missed his gloves.

He rattled the manacle, but it held firm. Bolted metal shouldn't react to his weakened attempts but, dammit, he had to try.

The light of Bhunivelze glowed inside him, a heating energy that he used to keep awake when his eyes barely stayed open. A power that kept him walking when blood pooled with each step done under Bhunivelze's name. It tempted him to try.

Maqui dropped back and took a breath. He could think about this. He could figure it out. He gripped the edge of his checkered wristband to remember his old strength.

The Headmaster—currently busy with something else that would hopefully keep him away as long as it did last time—thought he had more information on Bhunivelze. Thought he learned more than he did. Thought he could spill more of the plan.

Bones ached and Maqui squinted his eyes shut. Had to focus. Couldn't think about the mending pain in his fingers and the stinging of his eyes. Throbbing in the back of his skull…

… Bhunivelze.

He tried enough times to know that he didn't have anything left to remember. Not that he could present. And the Headmaster well established that he wasn't going to give up until Maqui remembered everything he meant to do here in the school. But whatever Maqui was supposed to do, he lost to Bhunivelze's destruction of evidence.

He knew that better than he remembered his home in New Bodhum. What he wouldn't give to differentiate it from Spira's shores.

Maqui opened his eyes again and took in the faint shape of the room beyond the darkness. No light told him the time of day, and he couldn't track how long it was since the Headmaster left. Not outside the faint ticking of the clock that Bhunivelze left in his head.

The Headmaster visited him five… six times in that span, whatever it was. And Maqui could swear the break between sessions grew longer each time. If he could make his escape the minute after the Headmaster finished this time, he might stand a chance.

But how to get out?

Maqui tested the manacle again and it budged. His strength returned slowly, but surely. The moment he felt close to well again, however, the Headmaster would come right in and break him back down.

He had to get the manacles loose now.

Grit his teeth and started pulling. Metal against metal challenged him, pushed the limits of his shards, and broke his skin.

When his wrists threatened to break, Maqui switched to his ankles and angled his feet to resist the bonds there. Pushed until his bones hurt and he felt Bhunivelze's power strengthen to fill the healing need created.

Then he pushed the wrists some more and put his back into it. Metal creaked and something cracked inside him. Pain blossomed, but he barely noticed.

Faint footsteps sounded and Maqui fell limp. Took deep breaths to recover himself before the footsteps faded away again.

It took ages for the hurting to ebb after that, and he gave himself time to heal before trying again.

Distant chorus filtered through Hope's conscious. He didn't want to think of this place as his resting spot, didn't want to see it as a physical place, because that would… that would mean he was stuck here.

But God didn't allow him anywhere else. And if Hope wasn't desired outside of his own mind, then he wouldn't leave. He knew better than to defy Bhunivelze.

… Right?

Windows filled the room, but there was nothing visible outside them beyond more light and he knew that approaching them only brought unpleasant memories back.

The ground below was silver and intricately carved to resemble etched metal, telling the story of Cocoon through meticulous patterns, symbols, and imagery, including its prophesied fall. He knew those images better than he knew his own name.

Broken glass lay in scattered pieces along the ground and he kicked at one to send it skidding over the edge. The Ark had a myriad of surfaces, but this was the main one he kept to, because Bhunivelze didn't like him moving around. It made it harder to call on him when needed.

But… he didn't want that any more. Hope wanted to be free.

Right?

Distant cries filled his ears and Hope moved toward one window to make out the distorted image of Lightning cutting him free in the Cosmogenesis. Why did she cut him? Why did she free him from his own safety with a god that watched over and cared for him?

The present, a window with only the faintest hints of color left, made no sound. The outside remained as barely a memory now.

Blood splattered the floor. Hope didn't see where it came from. But this room turned red, more like he remembered it. God kept him alive because he knew how bodies worked in that way. He knew how to keep them alive, even if he didn't know how to keep the person alive.

But he kept Hope alive.

Because Hope was important. Because he mattered to God. Even when his body turned inside out and Lightning faded away in a flash of rose petals.

"Your memories emerge from their prolonged sleep," came God's rumbling voice.

Hope felt numb when he turned to see Bhunivelze fade into existence, form shrunken close to Hope's size. "You needed to know how humans work."

Though he said nothing, God confirmed Hope's realization.

"I was your test subject." Hope looked over the broken glass and blood-stained floors. "You broke me. Killed me. Then brought me back screaming so many times I lost count."

"I couldn't risk losing the Savior's soul when the time came." Bhunivelze put a hand on his shoulder and Hope took the wordless order to quiet. "You served me well in showing how far the human body can go. But I could never understand your motivations, try as I might."

Until God cast him into the void. Until Hope finally found the sweet taste of death at God's calloused disposal. The anger and despair of before fled him because Hope remembered to mind himself around Bhunivelze, who watched ghostly afterimages play out in remembrance of broken skin and bones.

It would only last so long before Hope was cast to the Void. Before God moved to the greater vessels. Not that being greater would save them from the bargain God struck.

Fear prickled at his own uncertainty. Only by knowing Him could Hope stand a chance of avoiding painful mistakes.

"You can't see hearts," Hope said. "How is it you can speak with me in mine?"

"I adapt."

"That's not how it works."

"Not in your diminutive mind, perhaps." Bhunivelze left him to stand amidst the reddest section of metal. "I'm learning how to best use my available vessels before discarding hard-won property. I must make the most of them while they last. And now, whilst not desiring it in the slightest, I think I might finally understand the workings of your emotions."

Hope bit his tongue against a retort and shifted his feet over shards of glass that seemed to glow and dissipate on contact with his bare feet. Feet that healed over hundred-year-old cuts and bruises.

"You wonder as to your future." Bhunivelze didn't turn to see him. "I have no need of investigation into your endurance. Do not fear what happened here."

Hope nodded to himself and Lightning appeared at his side, but he couldn't look up to see her. Only reach out for the checkered gloves she wore before she vanished again. A stuttering reminder that he couldn't control himself.

"However." Bhunivelze looked up at the endless white. "You found a way to harm your body and that damages your constitution. Stop."

Breath fled him. "What?"

Bhunivelze turned around, the image of him growing at least a foot. His skin turned bluer and a glimpse of wings flashed behind him. "Do not feign ignorance. You yet push back against my hold and undermine my authority."

"I don't!" Hope backpedaled, but Bhunivelze moved faster and grabbed him by the throat.

And threw him to the side.

Hope hit the ground and rolled before he stopped at the ledge, skin punctured and bleeding.

He stretched out broken fingers among the shattered glass and rolled onto his back. An odd warmth filled him, and he assumed that came from the fresh cuts on his skin. This was familiar. He knew this scenario.

And he knew from where, even if he struggled to bring up the memory.

"I'll make you stop," Bhunivelze said. "You disrespect your god in your insolence."

"How…?" The word barely made it past chapped lips. The glass lightened and floated in the air. Soul fragments. "I don't understand."

"I know when a human lies." The not-quite-man kneeled over Hope, inhuman eyes studying him. "My time among you has proved so enlightening and you would do well not to hide secrets from me."

"I'm not…" Hope groaned against the pain. It was only a memory, but he felt it as fresh as the day he experienced it. "I really don't understand!"

Bhunivelze placed a hand on his face and blocked out his view of the white eternity. "Pitiful."

Hope gripped God's wrist. There was no arguing with his maker, and yet…

"You continue to defy me."

Hope squeezed against the iron tendrils that held him down and squinted against the distant cry of alarm at his own stupidity.

"Do not play this game," warned Bhunivelze. "I am not so changed as to fix your sporadic behavior."

Something stabbed straight through his chest and Hope bit against the urge to scream. Gripped the wrist of Bhunivelze tighter and felt bone beneath the iron flesh. This version of him felt mortal.

A spike went through his ankle and Hope forced Bhunivelze off with all his strength before stumbling off the bed of thorns that formed about him.

Blood dripped from his back before he felt the tingling sensation of healing flesh. In a burst of clarity, he called out for someone to help.

Bhunivelze easily righted himself before staring at Hope through half-lidded, suspicious eyes. Said nothing.

Hope stumbled in place, legs weak and head spinning. "I'm sorry, I—"

Bhunivelze flicked a wrist and vines yanked Hope back and dug into his skin.

Hope wrenched himself free of one, almost losing his hand to the process before it healed back over. He couldn't die. Bhunivelze wouldn't let him. And that meant he could fight.

"Fool," hissed Bhunivelze. "It will only end in disappointment."

Hope forced one corner of his mouth up to imitate a smile despite the fear that shook his limbs. "I can work with that."

Bhunivelze dismissed the broken glass and blasted out the walls and ceiling of Hope's sanctuary.