13

CHAPTER 13 – HOMECOMING

"Sis," the boy mewled with his head hung, eyes downcast to the woolen blanket drawn over his legs. "Come back… please, come back… please… I miss you."

The rattling of the door broke him from his self-pitying. His heart leapt into his throat as his head instantly shot up to see it swing ajar.

"Hello…?" he nervously squeaked.

His anxiety just as quickly receded as the familiar head of dark flowing hair passed through the doorframe. The lady's equally plain, drab attire she often wore was a stark contrast to her gentle, pale-skinned features. Her worried green eyes immediately settled on him, appearing to light up ever so slightly as she saw he had awoken.

"Rise and shine, sleepy-head," she beamed as she made her way over to him. "Come on, let's get you up. All the others have been awake for hours."

"Matron," the boy muttered with unease. "Is… is he gone?"

"Is who gone?" his caretaker asked with concern as she knelt down by the bedside.

"Th-that man," he stammered, the terror creeping back into his mind as he pictured him again. "That man with the swords… the one who… he took Sis away, didn't he!?"

He jolted upright in bed at the recollection of the man's words to him. He was abruptly restrained as Matron reflexively seized hold of him, wrapping her arms around his tiny figure.

"Squall, calm down," she reassuringly cooed to him."It's okay. It sounds like you were just having a nightmare. Everything's alright."

He continued to deeply inhale and exhale within her grasp, as she brought her hand up on top of his head to softly stroke his hair. Slowly but surely, he began to relax at her insistence. He knew that Matron would have no reason to lie to him, and that something so horrifying could only have been a figment of his imagination. No matter how much he sought to convince himself however, the sheer visceral terror had been too real for him to disregard.

"Matron," he whimpered to her. "I… I'm scared. Where's Sis? Where'd she go? I… I don't wanna be all alone."

"You're not alone," she told him, finally releasing him from the tight embrace. "You have me, and the others."

"But someday they'll all have to go away too, right?" he cried, unable to hold back the tears any longer. "And what about when I have to go, and I'll never get to see any of them again… or you…"

She raised herself from her knees and seated herself on the edge of the bed. Feeling a single hand lightly clasp his shoulder, the boy raised his teary eyes up to hers.

"You're right," she acknowledged his concern. "Someday you and the others will all have new families of your own, and you might not get to see each other again for a long time. But the bonds you share with each other, the memories you've made… those are forever. It's the same for you and your 'Sis'. I know how badly you want to see her, and how lonely you must be without her, but you have to believe me. She's doing fine. She's going to be alright, and so are you. But you need to learn how to be okay with that loneliness, and fight through it. You need to be brave, to have a strong heart, like a lion. Promise me. If you can do that, you'll find her again."

The boy kept his eyes locked to hers, entranced by the passion and understanding carried to him through her words. He intuitively knew she meant what she had said.

"Really?" he sniffled, bringing up his arm to wipe the tears from his eyes.

"Really," she swore, raising her own before her with her pinky finger outstretched to him. "Promise."

With his hope restored, and his sadness momentarily overcome by the comfort Matron provided, he locked his own pinky with hers.

"I'll try," he murmured.

"I know you will," she accepted his vow, pulling him closer into another loving embrace. "I believe in you, Squall, and I can't tell you how proud I am of you. You're special. You were born to do great things. I know it."


Within two days of the Garden Festival's conclusion, preparations for SeeD's departure from Fisherman's Horizon had been fully finalized. With the repairs to the Garden's mobilization system complete courtesy of the town's technical staff, the concert stage had been disassembled and moved back aboard. The newfound camaraderie shared between both parties continued to surprise Squall, much less how bittersweet the eventual parting appeared to be for many students and citizens who had become so friendly with one another in the interim. Xu had attempted to negotiate with Mayor Dobe to allow them to leave a small detachment of troops stationed in the town, as a precautionary measure in the event Galbadia were to send another battalion. Despite no longer holding any animus toward them, the mayor had chosen to respectfully decline the offer; true to his speech on the night of the festival, he was a man who vigorously held himself to his own principles. And so, after a week spent moored at the quaint waterside settlement, the Garden cast off back across the sea.

Having been away from land for so long, and with the on-board food supplies still dwindling, a long overdue return to Balamb was ruled to be the best course of action. Furthermore, there was still the matter of those students who had evacuated the Garden ahead of the missile strike to attend to, who had no doubt been rendered stranded in town for more than three weeks. Irvine had offered testimony in his official report to the headmaster that a full-scale invasion on Balamb had been planned. Accordingly, the course of their return trip had been adjusted so as to steer as far due east as possible, allowing the Garden to come ashore on the small island nation well out of visibility from the town. From there, a sole scouting party would be dispatched via a transport from the parking garage, supplied with uniforms procured from the fallen Galbadian troops at Fisherman's Horizon. All of this was made known to Squall on the first night of their expected four-day voyage, in the midst of his very first instructional session with Xu. And surely enough, he had managed to accurately predict who would be selected to command the scouting regiment before the words had even left her mouth.

The remainder of his initial lecture with the commandant had consisted mainly of an overview of the Garden's operational procedures, in addition to a general rundown of the duties particular to the title. While Squall had more or less come to terms with the reality of his appointment, he still had difficulty picturing himself actually stepping up to take the position when the time finally came. He would be only eighteen by then, younger than Xu when she had first taken on the role by a full three years. At Rinoa's behest however, he had made the conscious decision to set aside all of his concerns for the future, and keep his focus solely on the instruction he was being afforded. As a show of goodwill, the girl had even offered to postpone her own training sessions with him so as to help keep his mind free of any excess clutter. She would instead seek to better her Guardian Force control on her own, or with Quistis if her own schedule provided an opportunity.

When determining his scouting party of three, he had understood that Zell of all people would have a personal stake in seeing his hometown safe from any potential invasion. Predictably, he had leapt at the idea from the instant Squall had brought it up to him in the cafeteria on the second morning, insisting that his mother's home would give them a base to operate from should the mission end up spanning longer than a day. Much to his chagrin, it was then that the eavesdropping sharpshooter had seen fit to make his presence known, and insist for a spot on the team before he could vacate the area to track down Quistis for the position. Unable to come up with any kind of excuse as to why he couldn't come, the decision was effectively made for him.

The academy ran ashore right on schedule in the early morning hours of the fourth day, the gargantuan flotation ring below keeping their course steady as they gently surmounted the sandy beach. The landing procedure had been a sight to behold, leaving Squall breathless as he gazed down from the command bridge. Hugging the eastern end of the encircling Gaulg mountain range, the Garden slowed to a stop, and gradually started to descend. The flotation ring continued to rotate all the while, until it finally made contact with the soil and began churning through the earth. Dirt kicked up on all sides of the academy as it carved out a mammoth hole in which to plant itself. Only once the crater had reached a sufficient depth to allow the Garden proper to rest flatly on the surface did the whirring wheel begin to slow, and finally halt, leaving the newly stationary fortress engulfed in a gigantic dust cloud of its own making. The ring remained sunken into the newly incised moat, effectively acting as a platform to be used for disembarking from ground-level. Squall was sure there existed a control function to raise it back up to hover above the academy, just as it had for as long as he could remember. That the Centran civilization had been capable of crafting such a technological marvel more than one-hundred years before was stupendous, and a stark indication of just what had been lost to the world with the annihilation of their homeland.

Squall and his entourage assembled in the parking garage shortly after, all three already outfitted in their Galbadian disguises with backpacks each containing a set of their respective civilian attire, and filed into their transport of choice. As the lengthy tunnel connecting to the main highway had been left behind with the Garden's upheaval from its original resting place, the garage's exit was reduced to merely the wide automated doors now leading out onto the surrounding patch of land. Zell took the wheel, and the three started off across the makeshift bridge that was the flotation ring to meet the Alcaud Plains. With no clear-cut roadway for them to follow, the journey quickly devolved into a patience-testing foray, rife with numerous detours to circumnavigate the many rocky plateaus and patches of forestry which accounted for the general terrain.

As Zell continued to ford the wilderness around them, Squall's thoughts turned to the unsettling familiarity of the uniform he now wore. It had been almost exactly four weeks since his last experience in Laguna's body, unsurprisingly coinciding with his meeting with Ellone just before she had boarded the White SeeD ship. Whatever it was she had hoped to accomplish by using him as an intermediary, the visions had ceased altogether in the time since. He certainly had no desire for them to start up again, though recognized that her doing so would at least give him the peace of mind that she was still out of Edea's reach. It was obvious to him that this very same gift of hers was the reason the sorceress had expended so much manpower to track her down. And yet, had the missile strike been successful, she too would have been killed in the ensuing devastation. In hindsight, it had been a severe tactical blunder on Edea's part, and completely uncharacteristic for the same woman who had doubtless been at the headmaster's side through the formative years of SeeD. Surely she would not have simply ruled out Ellone being moved to the Garden in such a time of crisis. But then, as the headmaster himself had expressed, none of this was characteristic of the woman he once loved.

It was roughly two hours before they finally met the highway trailing onward into Balamb, and likewise caught sight of the massive crater situated where the Garden once stood. The smoldering had long since stopped, leaving only a wide concave expanse of scorched earth easily the diameter of Fisherman's Horizon's solar array. Irvine let out a whistle of amazement as they passed. Zell remained completely mum, and aside from a handful of cursory glances kept his eyes focused on the road ahead. Squall could scarcely blame him; though the fate of the Garden had been accounted for, the same could not be said for his mother and the rest of his hometown.

After another twenty minutes or so, they had arrived on the outskirts of the town. Deviating from the road well in advance of the town's arched gateway, Zell pulled the transport just inside the neighboring woodlands to park. Although their uniforms were unmistakably Galbadian in origin, the plain unmarked vehicle they had arrived by was not the sort a soldier would typically be seen driving while on patrol. The three filed out and continued down the last stretch of roadway on foot. Were the prospective invasion yet to have even begun, Squall realized that their disguises would be completely antithetical in allowing them entry into the town. If so, it would only have called for a quick double-back to the transport to change into their casual wear. As they drew closer however, he could see that their careful precaution had been warranted.

A pair of gleaming blue and silver uniforms to match their own stood guard on either side of the entrance. Momentarily relieving himself from his position at the head of the group, he slowed to allow Zell and Irvine to pass him by, and took up the rear. So long as they sought to remain incognito, it was imperative that he keep the gunblade at his side out of the enemy's line of sight as best he could. They unassumingly strode up to the gateway, Squall half-expecting to be accosted for their ID cards on the spot. Much to his surprise however, the left-hand guard wordlessly waved them on through without a second glance. Irvine provided him a courtesy wave in return, and the three continued unabated down the cobbled stone road, entirely free of traffic both pedestrian and vehicular.

"Phew!" Zell exhaled once they were safely out of earshot. "Figured we'd have it a little harder than that getting in."

"It's not like we could've come from anywhere else but here," Irvine reasoned. "Far as they know, at least."

"Everything looks like it's in one piece," Squall interjected, gazing back and forth between the stout sandstone buildings lining either side of the street.

"Yeah, but way too quiet," Zell muttered. "Guess everyone's too afraid to come out of their houses. C'mon, let's get going to my Ma's place. It's right down this way."

He indicated left at the coming intersection, heading in the direction of the shoreline, and swiveled to start along it. Squall followed after the two as they turned the corner, coming to notice the side-road was equally as sparse as the main drag, save for a small cluster of patrolling soldiers approaching. Though he could understand the lack of civilians out and about at such a time, he had no explanation for the absence of the displaced SeeDs who had presumably fled to the town ahead of the missile strike. It was inconceivable that they wouldn't have established a defense against the Galbadian forces, no matter how outnumbered they might have potentially been. It was then all the more peculiar that the streets showed few if any signs of a struggle; aside from the occasional abandoned shopping bag or purse left strewn upon the ground, there was nothing to indicate the town had resisted the incursion. They passed the group of soldiers without incident, Zell gesturing down another stretch of cobbled road heading due west.

"Just a couple more blocks down this way," he assured them, preparing to turn the corner. "It's the house right before the road starts dipping down, across from the hardware store. Man, I hope she's al-"

Zell stalled in his speech the moment he rounded the intersection, and promptly froze. He stood completely still, his exposed mouth beneath his helmet parted in alarm. Squall quickly came to his side along with Irvine and stared along the street with him. It was immediately clear just what had caught his attention; a mere thirty feet ahead, in front of a shuttered local cafe, a group of four, all outfitted in uniforms of virtually the same shade of dark navy blue stood engaged in conversation with one another. And yet, only two among them were Galbadian infantry. The other pair standing opposite wore no visors, nor was their attire comprised of the standard silver plated armoring. Theirs was the uniform of every cadet to have attended Balamb Garden, complete with the embroidered SeeD crest adorning either shoulder.

Neither party had drawn their weapons on one another. Their unintelligible verbal exchange, while noticeably stern, did not seem to be born out of resentment for one another. Suddenly, one of the cadets clapped their hands together, and turned away from the gathering. The young man started at a hurried pace down the road, to be followed in turn by both his comrade and the infantrymen at his heels. Still, the troops did not raise their firearms to shoot, nor did the pair of cadets appear to be intent on outrunning them. One after another, the four rounded the corner up ahead, all seemingly bound for the same destination.

"What the hell?" Irvine finally broke the silence. "Those were two o' yer guys, right? What're they doin' workin' with the troops?"

"Let's tail them," Squall spoke up, taking the lead once more. "We need to find out what's going on around here."

The two silently complied as he started down the street after the procession. He turned onto the avenue they had ducked down, catching sight of the four just as they swung onto another street. He reflexively picked up the pace, no longer giving precedence to keeping himself inconspicuous; if it were perfectly normal for his targets to move with the haste they did, then passing patrols would likely pay little heed to another group of soldiers doing the same. He knew the gunblade at his side could still potentially serve to give him away, though now with this latest development, he had been provided enough information to come up with an excuse if need be.

The undercover entourage of three tracked the wayward cadets and their accomplices for several more blocks, all the while striving to keep just the right amount of distance behind. What other soldiers they did pass seemed to pay no mind, nor the additional pair of Garden operatives standing guard at the side of one particular road they traversed. Squall instinctively ground to a halt as he took notice of this second squadron, momentarily setting aside the matter of the initial group they had been trailing. The two faced away from him with their eyes trained to the nearest house, a large halberd and katana blade strapped to their respective backs. Following their line of sight to the front stairs, what Squall then witnessed unfold came to fully command his attention.

A middle aged man and woman, as well as a third seemingly unarmed cadet were marched out the front door and down the domicile's short flight of steps. The Galbadian soldiers to their rear kept their assault rifles firmly fixed to the three, forcefully prodding the sobbing wife forward the moment she slowed to a stop. She stumbled down the last two steps and fell to her knees in despair. The captured cadet, young, brown-haired, and green-eyed, shot an unmistakable look of disgust toward the two opposite him.

"I hope you're real proud of yourselves," he growled as he was escorted forward to face them. "And that it was worth it to just turn your backs on everything we've ever known!"

"Don't be such a sore loser," the one with the katana mocked him. "It's nothing personal. We've just decided to join up with the winning team, that's all. You had the same opportunity as the rest of us, and you blew it."

"I always knew letting that damn Garden be built so close to us was a mistake!" the man of the house lashed out. "Some 'force for good' you little brats all turned out to be!"

"Just shut it!" one of the soldiers ordered from behind, whacking the man with the butt of his rifle and forcing him to his knees with his wife. "It was your own decision to harbor him, and now it's going to cost you. You three! Help them escort this fugitive to the commander for interrogation."

Squall's heart leapt into his throat as he and his squadmates were addressed. He snapped into his best attempt at the Galbadian salute just as the traitorous cadets turned around to face him.

"Yes, sir!" he affirmed. "And what of the family that sheltered him?"

"What do you think?" the infantryman scoffed. Without hesitation, he brought the barrel of his weapon down to hover just above the back of the kneeling man's head.

The gunshot erupted before Squall could properly process the soldier's reply. He jolted in place at the sound of the sudden blast. Another came the very next second. His eyes widened in shock as a pair of bodies fell limply from their feet and collapsed on the house's steps. A moment of stunned silence passed before he realized that the two to fall had in fact been the soldiers. The man and woman hunched over before them were completely unscathed. Broken from his trance, Squall whipped his head to his side, finding Irvine standing beside him with his own firearm raised, smoke wafting from both barrels.

The all-too-familiar sound of a sword being drawn from its scabbard whisked his attention back to his front. Acting on reflex, Squall drew his own and blocked the katana as it struck. The clanging of the blades echoed down the length of the road, giving way to the unpleasant grinding of steel on steel as they stood locked in place. He deduced a second incoming attack out of the corner of his eye and released the parry, narrowly sidestepping out of the way of the halberd's thrust. He swiftly backed away with his gunblade raised in his right hand, reaching over with his left to activate the sphere clipped to his belt. His eyes darting every which way to make an assessment of the situation, he spotted Zell moving in from behind the duo to escort the rattled couple and the cadet they had harbored out of harm's way. Irvine stood a ways off to the side, his weapon tracking the turncoats' every move.

"Go on with them," Squall ordered the sharpshooter. "We'll rendezvous you-know-where."

"Rodger," he complied, cautiously circling around the confrontation with his weapon still drawn. The katana and halberd wielders followed him with their eyes, until he last passed beyond Squall's own line of vision, along with his comrade and the three hostages.

"I should've noticed that gunblade from the moment you strolled up," the swordsman menaced. "You must think you're pretty clever, huh?"

"What's going on around here?" Squall demanded. "Why have you sided with the enemy?"

"What are you, stupid?" the one with the halberd snorted. "Well, I guess you'd have to be if you're still gonna fight for that coward, Cid, after what we all know now."

Squall paused, contemplating what exactly they could have learned about the headmaster that would have led them to make such a choice. The only thing he could think of was the misinformation spread by Norg's administration four weeks earlier that he had sided with the sorceress, in an attempt to turn the student body against him. It stood to reason that the conflict between both factions might have continued in the time since these students had been left behind, but he knew that could not have been the reason for their desertion. Why, if they truly believed that Cid had sided with Edea to sell them out, would they ally themselves with her army?

"It was an easy choice to make, and you chose poorly," he derided him. "And now it's time to pay the price!"

He viciously lunged forward with the halberd outstretched. Squall brought his sword up to deflect as he backed away from the sharpened tip, and sidestepped as it was thrust past him. He defensively placed the blade between himself and his opponent's weapon to counter the surely incoming sideswipe, the weapons clashing as it came. He forcefully pushed off to free himself from the parry just as the katana wielder dashed ahead to meet him. Their blades met several times in quick succession, Squall content to remain on the defensive for as long as he was able; his aim was not to win the battle, but to stall them for the others to escape. As a ruckus of shouting erupted from behind the two attackers, courtesy of a freshly arrived platoon of soldiers, he recognized that he had managed to buy all the time he could afford to.

Squall abruptly backpedaled to disengage from the confrontation, and began to focus on channeling the wind energy into his legs. He quickly sheathed his gunblade and spun around to make his retreat, bolting back along the road in an effort to build up speed. After no more than three seconds, he leapt for the nearest rooftop, soaring high up to meet its shingled roofing. He landed gracefully atop, and burst into a sprint across its surface, gunfire erupting from behind all the while. The thought of conjuring an energy shield barely registered to him, so single-minded was his determination to escape, and neither was he willing to attempt doing so while on the run.

He bounded from one rooftop to another, soaring over the desolate streets en route toward the shore just ahead. Remembering Zell's passing mention of the location of his mother's house, he frantically scanned the buildings below for any sign of a hardware store, or otherwise a decline in the road. After what seemed by his estimation to be enough blocks back to the stretch of road they had been on, he finally spotted the shop in question, situated on the curb of a small three-way intersection. One path branched off from the town proper and down a gradual decline toward Balamb's renowned waterside hotel, and the sparkling shore just beyond. Pausing for a moment on the roof's lip to ensure there were no guards in sight, he leapt down onto the street, exercising the flotation buffer technique to break his fall, and approached the house on the end, directly opposite the hardware store.

He rapped hard on the door twice, only then stopping to wonder if he had arrived ahead of his teammates. He was answered moments later by a heavy-set, middle aged woman with a cream-colored apron thrown over her plain white button-up blouse. Her wrinkled brown eyes stared into his visor with obvious skepticism and apprehension.

"What do you want?" she grumbled, evidently treating him no differently than she would any genuine officer of the Galbadian army. Squall reached up and removed the helmet from his head; although they had never met, he could only hope the show of deference would help to put her at ease.

"My name is Squall Leonhart," he introduced himself, performing the SeeD salute with the helmet tucked under his free arm. "I'm a Balamb operative working undercover with your son. Is… he here?"

"What the holy hell kind of nonsense is that!?" the woman sharply accused him. "The nerve! If you really think I'm going to buy some two-bit charade like that and just let you waltz on into my home, then you've got another-"

She stopped in mid-sentence, her eyes widening as she redirected them past him. Squall craned his neck back to see the group of five had just arrived at his rear, Zell having removed his helmet to reveal the unmistakable tattoo around his eye and the blonde head of hair above.

"Ma," he bashfully grinned. "It's great to see you're okay. You've got to let us in, right now. It's urgent."

Without another word, Mrs. Dincht vacated the door frame to allow them passage. Squall took the lead and stepped on through, casting his gaze all around the domed central hub of the house. The windows overlooking the beach far below were drawn open, the sunlight shining on through across the tiled stone floor. From the circular antechamber roughly fifteen feet across, three additional open entryways had been carved from the sandstone interior, leading into a small kitchen, a staircase heading up, and what appeared to be a multipurpose room which doubled as the living and dining area. It was a perfectly cozy and humble abode for a small family of three or four, though Squall imagined it would prove a slight hassle to now accommodate seven.

"Zell!" the boy's mother finally gasped as she closed the door after them and locked the deadbolt. "What's going on? How did you get into town? Are you alright? I was worried sick when the missiles hit. I went down to the waterfront every day to see if you were there with the other survivors. I've been absolutely miserable all this time."

"I'm alright Ma," he insisted. "I'll tell you all about what's happened in a little bit. But these folks here have been through a lot. Could you help them get settled in here, and maybe put some tea on? And… it would probably be a good idea to close the curtains."

"Sure thing!" she agreed, stepping on over to the window. "Please, make yourselves comfortable in the living room. I'll bring the tea in as soon as it's ready."

"Th-thank you so much!" the woman whimpered in gratitude, taking hold of her husband's arm as they gingerly hobbled into the adjacent room. The rescued cadet started to follow after, when Squall abruptly seized him by the wrist.

"We need to talk to you," he firmly addressed the young man before turning back to Zell. "Is there somewhere we can speak in private? Like your room?"

"I… guess," he hesitantly assented, motioning toward the stairs. "But no touching anything while we're up there. It's sacred ground, you hear?"

"Sure thing," Irvine calmly accepted the conditions. "Not like bein' in a guy's room is gonna get me all that excited, anyway."

Squall motioned for the cadet to follow the pair up the steps, himself bringing up the rear just behind. The twisting staircase curved along up to the second floor landing, which ultimately amounted to little more than a pair of doorways on either side with a small bathroom straight ahead. Zell led the way into the left-hand room, and the moment Irvine stepped in after him, his prior quip was suddenly proven to be mistaken.

"Holy shit!" he exclaimed out loud, followed by a set of hurried footsteps across the wooden floorboards.

"Hey, I said no touching!" Zell angrily protested.

Squall stepped in after his unsettled interviewee, quickly taking an obligatory glance around the room. A lone bed rested beside the shuttered windows, in the vicinity of both a speed bag and punching bag. Turning his attention to the opposite side of the room, the object of Irvine's exhilaration instantly became apparent. Reverently hung above the dresser drawers were a collection of three excellently preserved rifles from yesteryear, topped by a framed picture of a decorated war veteran in full uniform.

"Man, these are old-school!" the excited sharpshooter lit up. "They sure don't make 'em like this anymore."

"They were my grandpa's," Zell explained, seating himself on the bed. "He fought in the war before I was born. He was always the guy I looked up to the most, and the one who inspired me to become a SeeD in the first place."

"That so?" Irvine replied, his face seeming to take on a look of uncertainty for a brief moment. Perhaps Zell's obvious sentimentality for his grandfather had indeed managed to set him straight for once.

"Let's just get down to business," Squall announced, gesturing for the cadet to take a seat on the bed beside Zell. "Your name is?"

"Collin," he muttered, apprehensively taking his place on the edge.

"Listen to me, Collin," he started sympathetically. "We're with the rest of the survivors aboard Balamb Garden. We just got back this morning. Everything's going to be alright. We're going to get you and all of the other stragglers out of here, but first I need you to tell me what's happened since we've been gone. Why are so many of the other students siding with Galbadia now?"

The young man's eyes widened at the news that the Garden had made landfall once again, and for a faint instant seemed to swell with hope. That glimmer faded away just as quickly as he turned his eyes to the floor and sucked in a deep breath.

"That day," he started wearily. "When the missiles came… me and a lot of the others got the news about it from a couple who were making the rounds. So, we just dropped what we were doing and followed them into town like they told us. Most of us had nowhere to go, so the mayor moved to have basic provisions and tents sent down to the waterfront for us to stay there. It was like our own little refugee camp."

"Did this conflict start because of the uprising in the Garden?" Squall asked bluntly. Lacking the necessary context to understand the question, Zell's face promptly took on a puzzled look.

"Not really," Collin continued. "I mean, the tensions were definitely still there, bubbling under the surface, but most of us were just happy we'd managed to live through something like that. There was some in-fighting here and there, but nothing more than a little bit of fisticuffs between a select few people. Relationships seemed like they were on the mend. It really felt like everything was going to be alright after all. And then about five days ago… they showed up…


The clamorous whirring of heavy machinery roused Collin from his slumber. Raising himself from the cot which had served as his bed for the previous three weeks, he rubbed his eyes and gazed around at his tent-mates, finding they too had awoken. As the noise grew ever more prominent, so did the ground beneath begin to rumble, and the flaps of the tent begin to whip wildly in the sudden gust.

"What the hell is going on!?" his friend shouted over the din, a cadet roughly his own age by the name of Bram.

"You think it's the Garden coming back?" another responded hopefully.

Collin bolted upright and rushed outside to survey the situation, finding the state of panic had spread to every corner of the camp. Cadets and SeeDs shot from their respective tents, racing up the waterfront toward the source of the disturbance. With a single glance over the edge of the water, the cause of the tremor was made abundantly clear to him.

Just off shore, drawing closer by the second, hovered a gargantuan crimson battleship larger than any he had ever seen. Its sheer size easily matched that of Balamb Garden's, and as it drew closer, he recognized it to be held aloft by a similar whirring flotation ring rising up out of the shallow waters. Indeed, having already witnessed the transformation of his former home into a roving fortress from afar, the identity of the fast approaching anomaly was made all the more clear to him. It was Galbadia Garden itself, mobilized in a virtually identical manner and careening towards them from across the water.

Legions of students stood motionless on the pier, seemingly unfazed by or otherwise no longer cognizant of the whipping breeze. Others ran for whatever cover they could find, most immediately the rows of SeeD assault boats moored at the side of the docks; without the keys, their presence had otherwise done them no favors thus far. Gradually, the floating academy began to slow, coming to a halt just before the ring made contact with the shoreline. Minutes passed in dread anticipation, the gathered survivors all murmuring among themselves as to what such an ominous foreboding could mean for them. Had the Galbadia Garden administration finally come to rescue them from their new lives spent living in squalor? Collin desperately hoped it to be so, that their foreign counterparts would offer them the berth that the mysterious beige-clad operatives who had briefly pulled into the port on the first day had stubbornly denied them.

"Look!" Bram suddenly gasped from his side. "Up there!"

Collin followed his friend's outstretched finger to the very height of the Garden, and noticed what appeared to be a small swarm of hovering mechs, roughly fifteen in all, dispersing into the air. His ears soon picked up on the whirring of turbine engines as they descended, drawing closer to the point where he could finally make out their sleek aquamarine color scheme. His heart sank as he took notice of the uniforms of those piloting them, all strapped into their safety harnesses upright with both hands fixed to the controls on either arm of the mechs. The matching navy blue and silver of Galbadia's armed forces shone brightly in the midday sun, offset only by the attire of the one who led the pack.

It was he who touched down first before the crowd, swiftly unbuckling the harness and stepping forward to address them. His long grey coat trailed to the dock beneath his black boots, his hair a neatly trimmed blonde. His face was stern, with a lone scar running across the bridge of his nose from just above his left eye. The crowd's murmuring intensified at his approach, coming to rival even the descent of the soldiers in his company.

"Hey, isn't he that guy from the broadcast?" he heard one of those closest to him speak. "You know, the one who took the president hostage?"

"Holy shit, you're right!" another responded. "He's one of our guys, right? What the hell's he doing with them?"

"Seifer!" a raucous bellow finally drowned out all other commotion in the vicinity.

Collin turned his head in the direction of the cry, to see a bulky, muscular giant of a man fighting his way through the crowd. Cadets and SeeDs soon began to part at his behest, seemingly aware of the very real risk of being bowled over by the human locomotive. Behind him, a significantly shorter, silver-haired woman shadowed his every step, the very same who had accompanied him when they had scoured the Garden to inform everyone else present of the incoming missile strike.

"Safe!?" she belted out as they reached the fore of the crowd.

"Yeah, Squall was telling us you got captured and killed, ya know?" the tanned muscle-head blabbered on. "We knew it had to be a load of crap, ya know?"

"So, he's already been here, has he?" the blonde smirked, accepting a megaphone in one hand from a Galbadian soldier. "I wonder just what other vicious lies he's been spreading to you. It's good that you're here. I've got an important job for you two."

"Whatever you say, ya know?"

"Committed!"

Seifer turned his attention from his comrades back to the crowd gathered before him on the pier, none among them daring to so much as breathe. He clicked the megaphone on, raised it to his lips, and proceeded to divulge his amplified proclamation to them all.

"My fellow students!" his voice boomed across the waterfront. "It's been a while, hasn't it? Did anyone miss me?"

The murmuring kicked up again, unnerved and confused in equal measure. Collin did not personally know the man, seemingly two-to-three years his senior, but did not take kindly to the snide tone of his voice all the same.

"I'm sure it's been a trying time for you all," he continued above the idle chatter. "To be forced out of your home and left to seek refuge on the streets. You've no doubt lived these past few weeks in despair, longing for the day when help will arrive to uplift you out of this poverty. That day is today. I am here to offer you the salvation you seek, and the promise that this sad turn of events will turn out to be a blessing in disguise… for those among you who choose to believe. For years we have toiled in the Garden, training for the day when we would come to fight for a man who cares nothing for us. A man who would turn an entire army of brainwashed children against his own wife, the very woman who'd established SeeD to begin with. That's right… it was not Cid Kramer who founded SeeD, but the woman who loved him, and who was betrayed by him, Sorceress Edea!"

The crowd had fallen completely silent at his words. Collin momentarily shifted his wide eyes every which way, to find a similar look of shock painted on every student's face. The idea that the sorceress could possibly have been the headmaster's wife, much less the one who had started SeeD was utterly beyond the pale. It was impossible, and frankly unbelievable.

"You have been led astray by this serpent of a man, your minds corrupted, blinded to the truth for so long. We have been raised all our lives to become mindless cogs in Cid's war machine, built for a single purpose: to destroy the sorceress. To murder his own wife because she possesses a power he can't understand."

In a flash, Seifer reached into his coat with his free hand and pulled it back out a split second later. He outstretched his arm for them all to behold the gleaming silver sphere clasped within his fingers.

"Do you see this!?" he roared into the megaphone. "This sphere I hold in my hand, and all of its kind, are an abomination. A bastardization of that power, obtained through illegitimate means, and mass produced to create an army of super soldiers. It is a forbidden power that was not intended for normal humans like you and I to wield. You have all tasted it, and in turn had your minds tainted by it."

All was deafeningly silent save for the crashing of the waves against the pier. Collin's tongue had become leaden in his mouth; he could not have uttered a peep even if he had wanted to.

"Make no mistake," he assured them, returning the GF to the inside of his coat. "It is not your fault. We have been propagandized to for our entire lives by that man, for his own selfish ambitions. And it is for that reason that I have come to absolve you all."

Just as quickly as he had pulled out the sphere before, a gleaming ebony gunblade sliced through the air. Those at the front of the crowd gasped in alarm and stepped back, as the blade came to a halt held high up in the midday sky.

"Swear your allegiance to Edea," Seifer commanded them all. "Turn your backs on the lies you have been fed, and for your bravery, you will receive even greater power, as a Sorceress' Knight. Make your decision now. Who will you follow? Our benevolent founder? Or the cowardly thief who stole it all from her, and left you here to wither away?"

Collin's mind was awash with uncertainty and confusion. He had seen the sorceress publicly execute the Galbadian president on live TV, and survived the missile bombardment which was surely intended to kill them all. Regardless as to whether she were indeed SeeD's original founder as the swordsman claimed, or if the headmaster's goal all along had been to organize an army to defeat her, she was indisputably a power-hungry tyrant who posed a very real threat to the safety of the world. There was nothing that could possibly persuade him to offer his allegiance to someone so wicked, nor could he imagine any of the others standing by his side doing the same.

"Count us in, ya know?"

"Allegiance!"

The pair of lackeys standing beside Seifer both took a knee before him, their heads bowed in reverence. Collin watched on with awe as the blonde swiftly brought his blade down to knight them on either side of their heads, his face wrought with the sickest satisfaction as he did so.

"Your sins are forgiven," he passed judgment. "And as a reward for your unwavering loyalty, I'll be placing this town under your jurisdiction going forward. You may rise… Commander and Captain."

The duo raised themselves back to their feet as instructed, both positively radiant with pride. Their object of adoration payed them little heed, turning back to face the rest of the crowd with that same knowing smirk.

"All those who wish to swear fealty, step forward now," he proclaimed. "The rest of you… we'll deal with shortly."

Seconds passed in stark silence before two cadets amid the first row moved forward to be knighted. Several more followed after, soon forming a proper queue. Collin looked on in amazement as one by one, cadets and SeeDs alike fell in line to swear their allegiance. His mind refused to believe what his eyes were seeing, nor would it allow him to throw aside his morals and join them.

"Come on," a voice spoke to him from his side. He turned his eyes to meet Bram's, stern and unwavering. "Let's get in line. You heard him, this is our chance for a fresh new beginning."

Unable to stomach the thought any longer, Collin turned and bolted, never looking back.


"So, now you're telling me that jackass has his own damn cult!?" Zell blurted out. "And what's this crap about the sorceress being the headmaster's wife!?"

"It's true," Squall spoke bluntly, recognizing there was no point in keeping it hidden from him. "Quistis and I learned about it shortly after we got back to the Garden. It doesn't make any sense, but the headmaster himself confirmed it for us."

The blonde's jaw dropped and remained perpetually hanging in place. Collin, seated at his side, looked to be no less rattled from the retelling of his own harrowing tale. The sharpshooter, his helmet finally removed from his head and set down on top of the dresser, casually leaned back in the corner of the room, his eyes trained to the floorboards. The lack of a reaction from him did not surprise Squall in the slightest given what he now knew.

"After that, they split the knights up," the young cadet continued. "About half went with him aboard the Garden, and the rest stayed here to search the town for the SeeD loyalists like me. The Galbadians hot-wired all the assault boats and took them out of the harbor, as well. Mr. and Mrs. Pascal downstairs said they'd heard from one of the guards that they're searching for something out on the ocean."

"Ellone," Squall deduced immediately.

"You know!?"

He turned his attention to Irvine at the sudden outburst. The gunman had raised his eyes from the floor at last, staring intently at him with surprise.

"You know?" Squall threw the question back at him.

"I heard it from a guy I was partnered with at Fisherman's Horizon," he explained. "That's the whole reason they were gatherin' up all the people in the center o' town that day, to make sure she didn't slip under their noses. I told Cid about it, an' he said everythin' was already taken care of."

"I'm a little lost here, guys," Zell interjected. "Who's this 'Ellone' you're talkin' about?"

"She's a girl the sorceress has been hunting down," Squall began, hoping he would somehow be able to explain the situation adequately given what little he still understood. "She was in the Garden before the missiles came. The headmaster sent her away on a boat the next day with some special branch of SeeD."

"And why would the sorceress go to so much trouble just to find this one girl?" he followed up. "Who the hell is she, anyway?"

"I… don't really know who she is, either," Squall admitted. "I only met her briefly, when she was being taken aboard the other ship. All I know is that she's been under SeeD's protection for a long time, because she has some kind of… special power that Edea must be after."

He had deliberated whether or not to make any mention of Ellone's ability, based purely on his gut instinct to not allow anything which could not be explained logically into his account. When he considered the inexplicable and seemingly limitless power Edea had made use of before their very eyes however, he realized that anything else of the sort would likely not require much convincing for everyone present to believe. He braced himself for the incoming question as to what kind of special power the girl held, to which he now actively dreaded having to explain in depth.

"You don't know who she is, huh?" Irvine piped up from the sidelines. "Man, I really hope you didn't say that to her."

"What?" Squall's head shot up, completely caught off guard. "You know something about her?"

"Plenty," the sharpshooter calmly answered.

"And that's not all, is it?" he pressed the issue further. "You also knew about Edea that night! That's the reason why you wouldn't pull the trigger, isn't it? How do you know all these things? Answer me!"

Squall kept his eyes locked with Irvine's for an uncomfortably long time, neither wavering for a moment in their silent stare down. As opposed to his own coercive glare, the sharpshooter's gaze reflected a stern yet solemn demeanor which proved difficult for him to read. The look in his deep blue eyes was akin to that of many an instructor in his cadet days, sizing him up before the day's first training assignment. Finally, he sighed deeply, and straightened himself out from his casual lean in the corner.

"Look," he started as he made his way over, Squall once again noticing his enunciation had become more rigid. "I know we had a bit of a falling out that night. I honestly thought you knew who Edea was and just didn't care. It was wrong of me to presume, and I don't blame you for any of it. Or you, Zell."

"Huh?" the blonde raised his eyebrow in surprise at being dragged into the conversation. "What do I have to do with any of this?"

"More than you know," Irvine continued. "These last few weeks have given me time to do a lot of thinking, and after listening to this kid's story just now, I'm pretty sure I know what's been going on. But it's something the girls need hear, too. I'll tell you everything you want to know some other time, when we're all together. Right now, we need to focus on liberating this town and getting all the stragglers back to the Garden. This 'commander' and 'captain' he was talking about… by the sound of it, they're the same two who came to Galbadia Garden the day we met, right?"

"Yeah," Squall affirmed, unsatisfied with the answer he had been given, but ready to hold him to it should he conveniently forget.

"Any chance they can be reasoned with?"

"I wouldn't bet on it," Zell scoffed. "One's a meathead, and just getting the other to talk is like trying to draw blood from a stone."

"The way they follow Seifer, I doubt they could be persuaded," Squall agreed. "But if they're the ones running this town now, then we need to find some way of dealing with them. Do you have any idea where we can find them?"

Collin, having been ignored for so long in the midst of their inter-personal quarrel, abruptly craned his head back up to face him with embarrassment.

"I… I know the commander rarely leaves the Balamb hotel," he stammered. "But that's where the army's housing all of the soldiers and knights. Just walking in there would be suicide, especially after what you guys pulled today. They're definitely going to be checking IDs from now on."

"And what about the 'captain'?"

"Supposedly, he spends a lot of his free time fishing on the docks," Collin sheepishly divulged. "Sorry, that's really all I can tell you. I've spent the last week hiding out in someone else's house. Everything I know comes from second-hand sources."

"Well, it seems like it'd be easier to focus on him," Irvine concluded. "Sounds like he's not the brightest bulb, so maybe we could use him to draw out the other one. We'd just need to get his attention somehow and lure him into a trap."

Squall concurred with the idea, but had difficulty fathoming how such a thing could be accomplished. Raijin, for all his bluster, was a shining exemplar of physical fitness; managing to outrun him would be no small feat. Stunningly, the answer came to him almost immediately with a cursory glimpse at Zell and Collin's feet. It rested just behind, sticking out ever so slightly from under the bed.

"What's that under there?" he broached the question. Zell glanced down, maneuvered a single foot beneath and slid it out. Squall's eyes widened at the sight of it, having sworn it could only have been a mirage.

"I thought that thing got confiscated?" he blurted out, as much to remind himself as to ask for an explanation.

"We're right across from a hardware store," Zell flashed him a sly smirk in return. "You didn't really think I'd build myself just one, did you?"

Squall's face took on a smirk of its own at the remark, recalling the blonde's protestation when the first had been ripped from his grasp by the Thorn that evening. 'This thing could really come in handy on a mission someday!' he had pleaded. That day had arrived.