Ashe felt ill. Her chest burned like she overate and overcast, but she only rested this past hour. So, when she received news of Larsa and Basch's arrival—Gabranth, she corrected herself—she left her study with reluctance. But she also left with hope, because she had a matter to discuss that they left neglected since the end of the war:

The room they put her guests in laid in the centermost part of the palace and when she entered, a single lit candle flickered near the entrance. She couldn't say why Larsa and Basch refused to meet her in sunlit rooms, but she swore she'd oblige for now.

"Why haven't I been informed of these happenings until now?" Ashe asked.

Basch left Larsa to his seat in the shadows and approached Ashe. He left his helmet and she saw the pain in his expression at approaching the candle. "It is a matter we've ourselves avoided. It almost killed us and Balthier."

"And is that why Balthier, Fran, Vaan, and Penelo have all disappeared?"

"Vaan and Penelo, yes. Balthier and Fran never spoke with us before going silent. We imagined the matter would be resolved by now."

Ashe took in their bedraggled state. "Despite your wearies, I might ask about Nabradia. Despite our alliance, I've yet to have my husband's land returned to me."

"Oh!" Larsa joined them. "All my sincerest apologies, I lost track of—! Ahem. What I should say is that we've kept busy with other matters critical to the stature of our empire—"

"You forgot."

"… To be honest, I never thought much of it in the first place. It's not a project that seizes much of our resources outside troop cycles and supplies. It's required so little upkeep and gives so little reward that—never mind the excuse. As soon as I return to Archades, I will sign the proper documents to turn it back into your hands. I can only express my deepest regret that there's nothing more I can give you from it."

"I should be much satisfied with just the land, barren though it is. I'll take time to reclaim it, but I'd like to say goodbye at last."

Ashe couldn't help hesitating. She didn't expect him to give it so easily. Perhaps she took advantage of their weakness.

Basch took a step back. "We apologize for intruding on your hospitality, but we wanted to rest somewhere safe."

Ashe said, "Why won't you take rest?"

"Because he won't listen to me," Larsa said.

"Then I insist as your host that you take the next two hours to sleep." Ashe gestured to the seating in the room. "We'll keep a guard to ensure you aren't disturbed."

Basch said, "I appreciate the kind gesture, Majesty, but I'm afraid the emperor would evade his escort as soon as he leaves my sight."

Larsa shrunk. "I haven't left since I brought Hope."

"And yet you've eyed the streets every night since. You've betrayed me one too many times, Lord Larsa."

"I'm not a lord anymore."

"Imperial Majesty."

Ashe looked between them. "You both sound exhausted. How about—?"

The door burst open, and three people close to her age charged in. Two women and a scarred man, all dressed in the same black and red colors.

"Hope didn't take shelter here again, did he?" asked one of the women, a pale young lady with a husky voice.

"We haven't seen him," said Larsa.

"Damn," said the man. "The bugger can't have fallen off the edge of the cosmos."

The other woman silently shooed the other two out before following. She closed the door behind her.

"I'll watch Larsa," Ashe said. "And maybe he can explain to me who those people were."

Basch opened his mouth to protest, but Larsa hushed him with a gesture. "I won't leave Ashe's side while we're in the palace," Larsa said. "I would only get lost, I imagine."

"You never visited Vayne?" she asked.

"Ah, yes. He did spend time here, didn't he? Alas, I spent all mine in Archadia. … Most of it, anyway. Perhaps we can see the entryroad?"

"But only after nightfall?"

"… Only after nightfall, yes."

"What a strange party we make of ourselves." Ashe gestured to Basch. "Rest, I say. I'll send up dinner for you in a few hours, but I expect you to sleep the whole time."

Basch didn't move, though he glanced to the empty furniture. Perhaps he wouldn't sleep in quarters not suited to him. But Ashe knew that weariness would make up for his lack of familiarity, so she left him there and took Larsa to another room.

The palace had hidden paths that she used to avoid most of the sun, but that didn't stop them from struggling through some well-lit segments that pained Larsa.

Ashe stopped in a private reading room with a balcony that she shut out with a curtain. "You can rest in here," she said. "We're high enough up that you can't run down the side of the building and I'll post guards at the door to keep you in."

"Thank you for your consideration."

Ashe took a seat. "If you should like company, I have another hour before I leave for a commitment. Perhaps you'd enlighten me on the happenings I've missed out on here in Dalmasca?"

"I cannot call it a 'happening,' per se, but more of a revelation. There's a battle waged since before our world began and it's bled through the ages as a terrible scar on our galaxy's history."

"Galaxy? Are we the last to know, then?"

"Far from it, I imagine. Vaan spoke of a life he dreamed of, trapped in endless battle in a realm beyond ours, and I didn't doubt him after what I've seen. In a sense, I don't imagine the war will ever end so long as creation continues. There's many, many more worlds that will likely never learn of this."

"Please take a seat—you make me ache watching you pace like that."

Larsa paused and blinked as if confused. "I don't pace."

"You were doing so just now."

"Carryover, perhaps. Anysuch, suffice to say there's a war between gods and as it approaches its climax, it draws in more souls to be scarred and discarded. I hoped our world safe from the conflict, but perhaps we are not yet done."

"Why are we not safe? The Occuria exist to keep us safe, don't they? While they utilize an extreme methodology, they should be most motivated to prevent outside contamination."

"And yet we've noticed unusual readings from deep inside the ground. My people work to trace it and I fear what bomb might be planted at the source."

"Who were those three people looking for?"

"The vessel of a god I took in when I mistook him for a common urchin. As it turns out, he had a higher status than myself. Fascinating, isn't it?"

"That's not the word I would use."

Larsa finally took a seat, and, to his credit, he didn't collapse. Despite the sunken features of his face she saw in the hall's light, he acted perfectly alert. "I can only trust now that the new pantheon will fulfill the measure of their creation."

"And we are left to wait on gods once more."

"… Waiting on them isn't the same as doing their bidding."

"It's as good as, is it not?"

"Please don't compare me to Vayne."

"You're his brother. It should serve as no surprise that you hold similarities. Similarities doesn't mean you become the same. You stopped him once, and I take that to mean you hold entirely different priorities."

Larsa shrunk, though he tried to hide his shame. "I prefer to respect Vayne, but it seems the closer I come to understanding him, but the more I come to regret him. Nay, I begin to despise him."

"I think that happens with all family. It's hard not to hate at times that which you love the most."

"Assuming you love your family the most."

"I'd say that those whom you love the most defines your family."

Larsa went still. "You lost yours before I lost mine."

"In time, perhaps. By age, I was older when my father and husband died. But my point stands—it makes you no less to hate your brother. What makes you more is thinking of why he did the things that he did so that, good or ill, you'll know better for yourself how to avoid such behavior."

Larsa tugged at his boots. "Thank you for your company, Majesty."

"And you, yours. Imperial Majesty." Ashe left him, though not without a second glance.

Despite their friendship, she still thought it odd to house the Emperor of Archades here.

But more importantly, she had Nabudis' corpse-ridden expanse slated to arrive back in her possession… and perhaps even before the year wore out.

Larsa waited as long as he could handle before taking to the balcony. The sun fell behind the city's horizon and left an orange sliver for the city to outline. Wind tickled his cheek, and he felt the stone of the rails to steady himself. The dark took the worst of the fear from him, but he still fought to control the shiver in his fingers.

The ground remained some three floors down and he had no rope. The surfaces were too smooth to climb and he wouldn't have the strength for that anyway.

He looked to the door leading into the hallway. The guards would be alert and too aware for him to sneak past them. They'd know better than to take his orders, too, even if he pushed his luck with threats.

Larsa shut the balcony door and pushed against the bed. It made no sound. He moved about the room in the vain hope of finding a secret path but found nothing. His slippers made a tapping sound against the floor.

He paused.

He saw the hallways coming in—guards here traversed in groups of two. Ashe would have posted only the pair because more than that would draw more attention to his room than necessary.

Larsa moved toward the bed, climbed on, and removed his slippers. He waited a long moment before tiptoeing to the door that led into the hallway and listening. He couldn't see beyond the sliver of light under the door, but the two shadows would likely be the guards.

He prepared a sleep spell and slipped it underneath. Mist moved at his command and someone uttered a curse before crumbling to the ground. The other took a second dose.

When Larsa retrieved his slippers and risked opening the door, he saw a senior officer and a junior one—hence the difference in their willpowers. The senior would have gone first.

Larsa abandoned his outermost layers and made his escape. He crept through the halls, ducking around corners and following the secret paths that Ashe used to get them inside. Not all the palace was lit and he favored the parts of it that felt less traveled. He only had to make it to the second floor before finding an exit that led out through some neglected path.

Larsa replaced the slippers as soon as he reached the dusty streets of Rabanastre. He never saw the place in all his time with Vaan and Penelo and he regretted not taking more time to visit them in their home. They must know all sorts of stories from their side of the war.

The streets didn't hold the same appeal as they once did, and yet he felt more drawn to the open air than before. It felt irresponsible and terrible for him to walk out here, yet he couldn't stop moving toward… something.

Once he sought freedom that now seemed as a child's folly. Much as he would wander the streets and plains to his heart's content, every corner caused him to shudder from its mystery.

Perhaps it was simply that old habits provided the harshest temptations.

Larsa kept to the shadows, though the deep reds and purples of his ensemble would stick out regardless. But perhaps not everyone would be as accustomed to the dark as he.

The night was quiet save for distant laughter and shouting. Larsa only left his escort during the day for a reason, and it left a nervous flutter in his stomach at the thought of something creeping out of the slimiest corners to meet him.

He paused when he caught a nearby argument between grown men and women and what sounded like two children. They spoke of a deal, broken by the arrival of subpar goods, and bespoke threats. The children shared their own menacing words, but they sounded insignificant next to the adults.

He snuck closer and found as he suspected. The scene reeked of herbs and rotten food, though Larsa suspected that had to do more with the shady alley than with the shipment that laid in neat boxes near the youths.

"We did exactly as you asked," said one of the children—a girl holding a board. "Now give us the money or we'll make you regret it."

"And how?"

Larsa watched the crowd argue. The other girl's partner wore attire similar to that mage that took up residence in the library some weeks ago. He acted more like Penelo with occasional, sharp remarks while the girl showed Vaan's reckless cheek in the heat of contention.

A bandit took the mage by the hair and chaos erupted. The youths casted magic while the bandits drew swords.

Larsa pulled his rapier free. They were all too distracted with each other to notice him sneaking up on the leader.

Someone took him by the wrong arm and Larsa slashed the leader in the leg. Leader dropped.

Another punched him and Larsa hit the ground, rapier lost. He kicked at his assailant. They grabbed at him, but Larsa kept out of reach. They struggled together until someone else took him from behind and threw him to the ground. Larsa blinked stars from his eyes.

He swiped the feet surrounding him before trying to find ground. He moved to get to his feet, but someone pushed him back down with their boot. It hurt his chest, but not like his back.

"Back off!" Fire blasted the region and the mage said, "I'll blow this box sky-high if you don't leave us this instant!"

"Do it!" shouted the board-wielder.

Larsa struggled to breathe. The weight of the man holding him pressed against his lungs.

"This is a noble's kid, isn't it?" they asked. "I think this is worth more than your lousy return."

"That kid," the board-wielder said, "isn't packed full of explosives!"

Quiet. The man looked down at Larsa, something terrible glinting in his eyes. He pressed harder and Larsa choked.

"You're bluffing," said the bandit.

"You think I don't have protect under my belt? Because I'll prove you wrong, dingus."

Larsa squinted and turned away from the light, though his captor kept him from moving more than his head. A dull buzzing pounded in his ears.

"You've ruined business with us," said the bandit. "Perhaps you should count your losses."

"Perhaps you should count yours!"

They argued longer than Larsa thought they could. The fight halted for petty squabbling and they kept at it with more conviction.

"Guards!" someone hissed before yanking the man off Larsa. "The queen approaches!"

Larsa gasped down precious breath once they left and hauled himself to his knees. His face felt wet and when he touched it, his hand came away bloodied. It was a while since he felt such pain.

The alley flooded with soldiers and they took the children into custody. Larsa protested, but Ashe stepped in and said, "You should at least use your escort."

"They're innocent," he managed despite the pain in his throat. "Don't arrest them. Please."

"I won't." Ashe looked to the crates. "But I am very curious about the substances we've found here."

"It's nothing we did," said the board-wielder. "We only did what they told us! I had no idea they were smuggling that stuff!"

Larsa struggled to stand, but Ashe pushed him back. "Don't," she said. "You should rest."

"Not in the palace," he said. "Word might spread that I'm here. Don't take me back to the palace."

"The palace is the safest place for you."

"Not if people go looking—"

"It's the palace, Majesty. No one's going to break in because you're visiting. We should take this discussion somewhere safer anyhow." Ashe looked to the children. "You work for Migelo, don't you?"

The mage nodded and the girl said something about chores. They arranged to go there and Larsa asked Ashe, "How did you find us?"

"You left in time for supper."

"But after that—…"

"I keep up a network on the streets. Becoming queen didn't remove the familiarity I gained with my people. Don't you keep similar channels in Archadia?"

"Similar." With the adrenaline faded, Larsa found it difficult to speak. His teeth clattered and his arms shook. The air turned cold and he ached from every joint. Ashe used enough white magic to steady him, but it didn't remove the penetrating burn of the cuts and bruises he picked up without noticing.

Ashe asked for someone to carry him, but Larsa refused. He would walk to Migelo's if he had any dignity left in him.

Ashe's sleep spell knocked Larsa right out and she didn't miss the irony of using his escape tactics on him. She found herself glad she didn't wake Basch. He would be livid enough when they returned.

Migelo guided them to his humble abode, where they set Larsa to sleep in an old, stained cot. Ashe finished washing the Larsa's wounds before using white magic. Penelo would correct her if she were here, but Ashe didn't need to be an expert to know that Larsa's wounds weren't fatal. Her care by this point was only cosmetic.

"I now understand Basch's exasperation," she said to Migelo. "You cannot look away for more than a minute without him disappearing."

"He's young," Migelo said, "like these two. Try telling them to stay in one place."

"Hey!" Filo said. "I'm obedient!"

Kytes snorted. Ashe focused on her healing until Filo stuck her nose in and asked, "What are you doing?"

"Using white magic."

"How?"

"By using the mist, of course."

"Why bother? He's not gonna die, won't he?"

"He won't." Ashe checked Larsa's pockets and found nothing. The thieves took his bag. "Funny. He always had potions on him."

Migelo got up from his seat. "I'll get you something."

"No, it's not necessary. It's just… odd."

"He'll be fine, right?" Kytes asked.

"I don't foresee any complications, but I'll leave him here to rest, if that's all right with you. He can't be in light and he needs sleep. Do you have a dark room we can move him to?"

Migelo said, "Yes," and Ashe picked up Larsa. He was so much bigger than when they traveled that it took all her strength to lift him. Migelo offered to take him from her, but Ashe insisted.

Larsa cracked his eyes open and started to speak, but Ashe renewed the sleep spell. "You're not allowed to wake up," she said. "I get the impression you've been avoiding sleep for far too long."

Kytes and Filo followed her and Migelo upstairs where they blacked out a room with all the blankets they could find and set Larsa on a cot not much better than the last. It wasn't anything like his station demanded, but at least no one would think to look for the emperor in a merchant's home.

Migelo talked all about the adventures that befell children that took shelter under his roof and wondered if the shop was enchanted. He and the children insisted on telling Ashe everything that happened before, during, and after the war. Ashe turned dizzy from all the information and wondered how Vaan and Penelo survived so many quests.

"Vaan talked about him all the time," Kytes said. "Larsa, I mean. But I never thought I'd meet him in person."

"Will we get favors for this?" Filo asked. "You know, like a feast to celebrate our kindness? Or gems? Money?"

Ashe wanted to brush them off but remembered her manners. "I'm afraid it's more complicated than that."

Kytes took to Larsa's side and stayed there, his too-large clothes poofing up when he sat and almost swallowing him in their folds. Filo took a seat by the window and kicked her legs back and forth. They chatted about random things, like the weather that morning or some shops they found in the city.

Ashe stayed with them for a while, contemplating what she missed out on in Archadia. Migelo filled her in on further details and complained about the treatment they faced from the empire. He defended the common soldier but condemned the actions of those at the palace. Ashe heard many a conversation like it and she often thought the same thing, but she also thought for some reason she could avoid politics by getting away from her home.

And thus she spent the rest of the evening, half-deep in conversation about everything and nothing.

Snow left an obvious trail of sparkling frost in his wake for them to follow. They took it to Gaia VII.

King landed with a thud. Zack appeared to greet King and his friends to come.

"Good to know I'm not alone," Zack said.

"The family?" King asked.

"Marlene's out with Red, but the others are still caught in the twist of Bhunivelze's corruption. If we can get one out, we can get the rest."

"Prompto?"

"He used up what was left of his willpower to get Red, who coordinated with the Turks for us."

King moved closer to the once-healed village of Banora. It had burst open again to show thready, green light that reached for them. Only instead of the emerald hue it should emit, it showed almost gold.

"This place looks better than Spira," Zack said. "I was surprised."

King approached the edge of the Lifestream and watched those swirling depths. "Did Snow go inside?"

"I don't feel him yet. More likely he'll target the centers of civilization."

"Does Bhunivelze plan to keep a single soul? Didn't he want his puppets?"

"Once, he did. But man, even gods change."

Queen landed near King and said, "We've pushed him too far. Either we beat him or he'll give up everything to the Void as retribution."

King found icy glitter leading across the water. As his siblings arrived, he calculated the quickest path there. When Sice finally straggled in, King ran.

They flew over the ocean and under forest cover before breaking past the barrier of mountains. Zack disappeared and appeared again between obstacles, form wispy as he struggled to keep up.

Marlene woke to a shuddering in the house's frame. She kept falling asleep and still feeling tired. She wondered if this home was cursed. It felt cold and she considered looking for a sweater. She barely kept her eyes open as she got out of bed and made her way down the stairs.

The Turks were rarely home. Days passed since she arrived, and she only ever saw two at a time if she was lucky. They spent a lot of time fighting the beasts outside. It got worse every day. It couldn't be much past noon and already the noise outside turned to a big commotion.

Nanaki burst into the hallway. "We need to go," he said.

"Why?"

"Did you hear much from the Lifestream while you were down there?"

"Not really."

"Then suffice to say that something terrible has arrived. Come—we should ride to meet it."

Marlene followed him outside and froze. Spikes of ice shot up from the ground and impaled buildings. People used materia against the ice and weapons against the monsters that swarmed. Trenton, the son of their favorite baker, used an axe and one of her old classmates rained fire materia magic on a swarm of dire rats.

A humongous snake's head wrapped around a road sign. "There's a zolom!" Marlene said.

Nanaki hesitated beside her and Marlene tugged at his mane. "What are you waiting for?" she asked.

"I've never taken a child into battle. I don't know how—"

"It's going to hurt that person!"

Marlene just climbed on. Nanaki bristled but launched into motion and Marlene gripped him tighter to not fall off.

The zolom, colored dark and gross-looking, snapped the pole in two. It swiped animals off the street and tore into the mechanic's store.

Nanaki ripped past the zolom and circled about to catch it by the tail. The zolom twisted about and Marlene caught it with her fist. It didn't react. She wished she had materia.

Nanaki clawed at the thing and Marlene could only hope to hold on for the longest time. If only she could get to its face!

She glanced to the still-standing mechanic's building. Enough of the corner was removed that she could use it to get to the top floor's windows. It was far enough up to almost meet the zolom's tongue. It was higher than the cliffs she scaled in Spira.

Marlene jumped from Nanaki and onto the first window. She felt stronger than and she didn't get tired until she reached the broken corner. Bricks moved about under her feet and Marlene scrambled to keep her balance.

Nanaki kept the zolom distracted. Marlene just needed a spike or something to drive into the thing's eyes!

Snow stood among chaos, ready to lead the rest of this world into their new one. He let the ice grow into buildings. He felt… foggy. Like he stood in a dream and watched it happen. He didn't feel the crystals against his feet. He only watched the frost climb higher. He only let the cold bleed through the ground and reach for the planet's veins. He could make it feel like he did.

"Hey." A guy dressed in dark colors approached him. "Hey, Snow. Snap out of it."

Snow brought up a hand to touch the guy and found himself punching through instead. He passed straight through.

"You're better than this!" Zack yelled.

Snow hurt. The words hit him like a truck and he wondered why he cared about this dude. Or maybe it wasn't about the dude but something else…

King barreled at him. "Pull yourself together!"

Snow fought with King and found a semblance of ground. He steadied himself against Eight's blows and pushed through Zack. He spiked himself with ice and crushed Eight's limbs between glaciers. He snapped at King and cut out Zack.

… Zack couldn't do anything to him.

Snow ignored Zack and focused on King while he had a break from Eight. King shot at him, but Snow's ice armor absorbed the bullets. Snow melted and refroze over every shot until he closed in and caught King with a crystalline javelin.

King fell to the ground and bled. Zack yelled their names.

Eight tackled Snow from behind. They struggled together until Snow struck Eight through with another spike.

Blood spattered. Eight dropped from Snow's back. King went still. Snow felt something tear through him, a dread he didn't know since the Hanging Edge. It trumped all those reluctant sacrifices he made in Yusnaan and even the inevitable loss of Hope in Luxerion. It reminded him of watching Nora drop thousands of feet.

Something pinned him from the back and nailed him to the ground. Queen's rapier. Snow blasted himself with ice and forced her back. He yanked out the sword and tossed it to the ground. Queen summoned it back to her hand.

"Stop!" Zack rounded on him. "Snow, you believe in honor, right?"

Snow asked, "What's that mean?"

"They told me you care about people. That you have values. That you would rather die than bring so many people to ruin!"

Someone asked about Lightning. Zack kept talking. He said something about becoming a hero. Snow only thought of Lightning and her missing half.

"We can't get her back," Snow said. The words slipped right through him. "Not without fusing her again with Lumina."

"Oh, yeah!" Lumina said. She appeared out of nowhere. "Go on and spill all the secrets, why don't you? Why can't we lead them on a little longer?"

"So, we'll help you get Lightning back," Zack said as if he didn't see her. "Just… stop. Take a break. See the sun for a minute. Breathe."

"Serah," Queen said. "Think of Serah."

He felt like he hung on a string over a dark abyss. "I can't stop." He looked at King and Eight's fading bodies. "But I… will stop."

The thread holding him snapped. Snow withdrew all the ice magic back into himself and turned cold.

Marlene steadied herself and jumped. The zolom swung about, aggravated by Nanaki's teeth and claws, but she caught it anyway. It tried to flick her off, but Marlene held steady. They soared through the air and Marlene scraped over concrete. Her arm bled.

The zolom caught Nanaki and threw him into the river. Marlene squeezed on the zolom's neck and it coiled. She squeezed as hard as she could, but her body was too small. Yet she wouldn't let it keep hurting people. Despite the oil sticking to her arms and the gross smell, she wouldn't let go.

"Marlene!" Elena yelled. "Get down from there!"

"No!"

"We'll take it, just go!"

"I won't! I can do this!"

Something sliced through the air and the zolom screamed. They toppled toward the ground and Marlene scrambled to get lower before it hit.

Big hands took her, and Marlene fought back. "I can keep fighting!" she said.

"You already made a big difference," Elena said. Rude was the one that took her. "You two kept that thing busy for a long time."

"Elena," said a woman with hair like Aerith's. She held a big shuriken like Yuffie and it was covered in blood. "What happened to this one?"

Marlene stomped. "Forget that! Where's Nanaki? Did you get him out of the river?"

"Go on," Elena said to the new woman. "I'll clean up here."

"We're not onto cleaning up, yet!" Marlene ran for the river. "We need to keep going!"

She found Nanaki crawling out of the river a ways down. A swarm of twisted bats met him. Marlene screamed and ran for him while Elena chased her.

The Reds disappeared as soon as Snow called the ice back. Sice yelled about losing King and Eight, but they knew there was nothing left to do about that. Snow already tasted the bitter poison left by Bhunivelze, meant to take him back to Valhalla if he disobeyed.

Snow ignored the warning pain and looked to Zack. "I know where Aerith is."

Zack took him in a hug and Snow felt him this time. "Please tell me."

"We need to get to Midgar."

"The church?"

"Yes."

Zack left without another word. Snow let him go before helping the rest of Edge's citizens. After this, it was time he fulfilled his promises.

Zack zipped through space. He leapt high enough to see Edge and Midgar from a distance, their sprawling expanses like shadows on the grassland. Within seconds, he landed on the church's doorstep and found Aerith inside, tending the flowers as usual.

He hesitated, words lost to the beauty of her. With that emerald shimmer to her silhouette, she looked made of gems. Funny how death still impressed him so long after adjusting to its ethereal ways.

"Hey," he said before approaching her. "You're still stuck, aren't you?"

"I'm waiting."

"For what?"

"For you. I spent years waiting, every day hopeful that you would return from whatever mission it was that you did."

Zack kept walking, though Aerith didn't rise to greet him. "A normal lady would give up after a month."

"I was no more a normal lady than you were a normal man. … Did you think of me?"

"Every day."

"And yet you couldn't have."

"Not when I was asleep, no." Zack arrived by her side and Aerith went still. "They took me after Nibelheim. I never stood a chance."

"Until you got free."

"Until I got out of the tank only to find myself surrounded by infantrymen, Turks, and—if I was lucky—Genesis. I thought you knew all this?"

"I did." Aerith stood and looked at him, expression taut. She feared. "But I barely believed it. I just wanted you at my side again. I never told you goodbye and the next time I saw you, you got there first."

"I'm here, now."

Aerith looked about them. "I thought… after so much pain, that maybe I'd feel better. Maybe if you came back, I'd feel happy again."

"And then Cloud crashed through your roof."

"He tried so hard to become like you."

"To the point that he almost stole my girl. I should give him a good hit to the noggin for that."

The green faded from Aerith and she smiled. Oh, that smile that melted his insides and ignited his body with an unquenchable fire. Funny what death couldn't cure.

"Welcome back," Aerith said. "I'm glad to see you well again."

Zack took her in a hug and relished the warmth of her against him. The security of her closeness and the kindness that radiated from her like heat off a good motorcycle. "We'll never be apart again," he said. "So long as you break away from this guy that keeps taking the best people from us."

"His grip on the planets weakens. He's given up on manipulating things from inside and instead sides himself with the Void. If we can force collection on his debt, then the Void might become our ally."

"That assumes we can get the Void to stop."

"We can." Aerith pulled away from him, resolute and form complete again. "We just need everyone together again."

"Like Cloud."

"And many, many more." Aerith quirked a mischievous grin. "Let's take a dive into the Lifestream again."

Tifa pulled at the man that took Marlene away, but he felt heavier than Denzel. Something that wasn't the Lifestream soaked into him, like the weight that dragged her down. But Denzel was heavy enough—she couldn't escape with both. The gravity of this place worked differently than what she knew with the living. It felt closer to Spira.

"I'll come for you after," Tifa said to the man. He blinked so slowly and it felt like ages before he looked at her. He said nothing.

"Give me time." Tifa reached for the surface. She would need years to get there and back again. She could only hope Prompto would keep his form until then. Cloud survived… a while. Prompto could survive a while. She just had to not take a while.

Tifa reached for the surface. It looked so far away. But with Denzel growing dark at her side, she couldn't not—

Another hand gripped hers and Tifa found a strong pull toward the surface. A pull accompanied by a familiar warmth. Tifa felt a swell of strength and pushed far enough to break the surface of the Lifestream.

Tifa gasped for air and hefted herself over the edge before she dragged Denzel to safety. He barely breathed and his veins glowed green.

"Morning, sleepyheads," Aerith said. Tifa couldn't bring herself to look up. "Sorry I took so long to get you."

"Where's Cloud?" Zack asked.

Tifa gripped Denzel's jacket even though he couldn't roll into the crack again from here. "He left shortly after we went in. I thought you knew. But there's another man in there that… did I leave Cloud in there?"

Aerith and Zack exchanged looks before disappearing. Tifa ensured Denzel's security before leaning over and watching the two pull up Cloud's lookalike. He wasn't the same, but he looked so similar that her heart skipped a beat and she wondered if something happened—

"He's not down there," Zack said.

Tifa struggled to stand. Her body didn't move like it should and she felt five times heavier. "Mako poisoning," she said.

"I'm surprised you're talking," Zack said. "Cloud took much longer. Oh… you've been exposed already."

Tifa slumped. She couldn't hold herself up. "I saw… so much. Ifalna…"

"She needs to rest," Zack said to Aerith. They talked about who should go find Cloud before settling on Zack.

Aerith kneeled by Tifa. "I'll see if I can clean up your heads a bit, but first you need to get some sleep."

Tifa thought of Denzel, but she couldn't look his way. Her fingers went stiff, then her arms. She couldn't move her legs and eventually she lost sight of Aerith. She couldn't see Prompto either.

When Serah woke she found herself back on VIII—or, another version of it. The every-version of it. Her head throbbed and she saw everything and nothing. This was a world where the Gardens existed, and never did. Everything happening at the same time as nothing existed.

Time compression.

It felt like someone squeezed and stretched her soul like putty. This was a woven artwork that frayed at Serah's proximity and rewove once far away.

She rubbed at her brand and hated the disconnect she felt from its source. She was so far from everyone—everything that mattered, and it would take time to figure out a way back.

Time. It belonged to her, but even she could damage it. Etro proved that.

A distorted figure of grays cried out as it ran past her. A lost soul.

Serah almost became like that once. In another timeline that no longer existed, she'd stayed in that fake world that Caius forced her into. That soul would fall into one of their own soon enough.

Serah shook her head and trudged forward. She'd escaped before and she'd do it again.

"You don't know what you've done, do you?" Serah asked. "Do you know about the Void Beyond? The people you trap here that can't ever escape. They'll live in their fake utopias for the rest of time. Is that what drove Rinoa to become Ultimecia in the original timeline?"

God wouldn't let Serah vanish. She stood straight despite the pounding in her head and watched the world shift around her. Rinoa couldn't hide, not even in this place.

Serah closed her eyes and searched for that obvious tell of shardic power. Once she caught it, light shifted. Within moments, Serah found herself facing a white-haired woman clad in plunging red silk and a wicked smile.

Serah slipped sideways as she summoned Mog in bow-configuration and fired at Ultimecia. It ripped through the sorceress's shoulder.

Ultimecia waved a hand and the hole in her shoulder healed over. "I'm about as killable here as you are, girl."

Serah fired again, but Ultimecia faded.

Time to switch things up, then. Serah took the frayed edges of this world and tore them from their place.

Her vision swam and her head fogged. Her grasp on reality slipped and she lost herself.

Footsteps rattled her universe, heavy and thick and frequent. A constant thrum of noise and shouting. Serah tried to block it out, but her feeble fingers couldn't take her hearing away no matter how much she clawed at her ears.

Eventually she remembered her purpose. Serah, Goddess of Time under Almighty Bhunivelze, could not cower and wait for pain to pass her by.

She dragged herself to her feet and confronted this world-prison made to keep her from her family where she always belonged.

Anger broiled in her chest as she stumbled past shadowy figures that didn't exist. Enna taught her what Serah needed. (Or did Serah already know?) If Rinoa made this shadow world, then Rinoa would be reachable through it.

Rinoa, who clearly did not deserve the power she held. Those shards belonged to Serah, and since the Sorceress made it clear that she would not willingly help, Serah would take them back.

"Ultimecia!" Serah called as she walked on unreal marble. "I'm taking this world!"

A thrum in the air, like a songbird a mile off. If this was a true shadow world, then it would be changeable.

Serah locked onto one shadowy figure and summoned Mog in sword-configuration to slice it through.

It froze as the others disappeared and Serah channeled memories of Bodhum to create a breathing and empty beach front. Fireworks froze in the sky and Serah frowned. She tried again and brought the world to life. The fireworks burst and sparkled as they fell, and figures popped into being all along the shore. This world didn't quite reach the tangible shadow she needed.

"I can make this world mine, you know," Serah said. "I can find my way out just fine."

Silence.

"Come on, Rinoa. I don't want to fight!"

The water stilled against the shore. Rinoa appeared on a frozen wave. "I kind of do. I don't know why, but I'm thinking I can take your shards and make them mine."

Serah reached out again to feel the rims of Time. It didn't break or scatter at her touch.

"You're corrupted," Serah said. "These shards have been away from their maker long enough to forget where they belong. They're defensive—but there's no reason for that."

"Is that what happened to Ultimecia?"

"I'd say it's what's happening to Ultimecia."

Rinoa paused a long moment. Then the corners of her mouth quirked up in understanding. "I've held these shards much longer than you."

"Time doesn't mean anything here. If you were meant to wield these shards, you would know that."

Rinoa opened her mouth to speak, but Serah charged in with Mog. Rinoa jumped back, surprised. Serah kept jumping, running, stabbing, and slicing. Rinoa didn't gain a moment to fight back.

Serah reached out and ripped at her shards only to find them glued down. Rinoa's surprise gave Serah the opening she needed.

Serah ripped through Time and re-emerged onto Gaia VIII. She wasn't sure where and she didn't intend to stay long enough to find out. She readied to portal back out—

"Hey, there!" A man tapped her on the shoulder—he had black hair tied back and clear aging lines around his mouth—and said, "I think these belong to you."

Serah breathed deep at the influx of power. It shuddered through her. Before she thought to respond, he smiled and moved on.

Serah watched him go. Then she teleported away.

Rinoa's shout of rage echoed after her.