Purgatio

by Marcus1

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11. Procinctu

Chapter 11

Procinctu

Midshipman Paul Franklin couldn't help but be surprised at his own calm. He was actually quite pleased with himself—or perhaps that was just the exhaustion talking. He was about to give the matter a bit more thought when he felt that peculiar buzzing on the undersides of his wrists and the back of his neck again. Acting almost on instinct, the middy dropped the seawater fire hose and fell to the scorched deck plates. He squeezed his eyes shut and emptied his lungs in a long breath.

Thirty yards to starboard off the bow of the Esthar Naval Service heavy cruiser, William H. Durbin, a titanic column of water exploded skyward as the armor-piercing naval artillery shell splashed into the ocean. A clean miss.

Franklin would have stood and returned to work, but he was nearing the last seconds of the count he had been keeping in his head for the last five hours, so he remained flattened against the heat-warped plates beneath him. He didn't bother looking around to see if the other guy manning the hose had gotten up. The heat from flames raging along the blistered paint singed his eyebrows.

The two remaining operational turrets on the cruiser whined, gears grinding into their final firing position as the ship's targeting computer plotted the best solution to the Galbadian dreadnought, several miles over the horizon. In both guns, the breeches clanked shut, completing the final step in the automated reloading process.

The water abeam of the ENS cruiser was a deep shade of green. A moderate chop was rolling out of the northwest, and the breeze was whipping up little wavelets on the top of the groundswell. A few greasy slicks from oil spills appeared as undulating patches of rainbow-colored water. Abruptly, the sea on the port side of the William H. Durbin flattened as the overpressure wave from the cruiser's cannon blasted out across the water. Great gouts of cordite smoke jetted from the muzzles of the huge guns, and the massive cruiser rolled hard to starboard as it absorbed the recoil.

Just like the last seven salvos, Midshipman Franklin didn't hear the roar of the naval artillery. He—along with everyone else on deck—had long since gone deaf, despite the protective equipment most wore. No one was supposed to be up top when the main battery was in play, but for the damage control parties to clear the deck between salvos would mean the end of the heavily damaged cruiser.

Paul grimaced as he hauled the hose a few more feet forward, pulling in time with the motion of the blistered back of the man in front of him. The shockwave from the guns had beaten the inferno they were fighting back a few temporary yards. Not that it looks like this old tub is going to stay afloat much longer. He supposed the thought should frighten him. It probably will, when things really start to go downhill, but for now… he was just so damn tired.

Getting up after another near miss few moments later, every muscle in his body aching with exhaustion, the Middy felt a hand on his sunburned shoulder. He nodded gratefully as an enlisted man passed him one of a half-dozen canteens before jogging off. Taking a pull at the water, he swished the liquid around his mouth. It tasted like oil. He swallowed. Poking the man in front of him with the canteen, he jerked his head toward the stern of the ship. "Switch up." He shouted uselessly.

The soot-covered features before him cracked a weary grin. White teeth flashed in the blackened face as the man spoke. Paul wasn't sure, but it looked like he might be saying: "'bout time!" He sighed as he stepped forward, grabbing the brass handle at the nozzle of the hose. Despite the water thundering through it, the thing was damned hot. However, despite this, it appeared as if the damage control parties were finally getting the flames under control. Through the waves of heat and smoke, he could see another stream of water from the other team on the starboard bow. Then there was a bright light that seemed to come from within himself.

"Damage report!" More than just a little desperation crept into the young officer's voice.

"Sir, point-defense systems destroyed the missile before it hit us!" The ensign turned from the intercom to face the ship's new first-in-command. "Minor damage to the superstructure only, but we've lost men topside. There's no one manning the tiller!" The ensign paused a moment, and a hint of silence descended over the makeshift bridge—the original having been destroyed by a glancing hit from an enemy shell—as he listened intently to an unseen speaker. "The Dreadnought has moved out of range of our guns. We are still within range of theirs. Battery one has a jammed loading system. Engine room reports heavy flooding, main turbines about to go offline. Launcher three reports ready to fire."

The new commanding officer swallowed hard, trying to keep his voice level for the benefit of the few crew staffing the ship's control center. "Get someone back on those control wires." After main and auxiliary conns had been destroyed, the crew had been forced to cut into the cables controlling the ship's rudder in order to steer. "Signal the engine room to keep those propellers turning, we need steerage!" He trailed off.

"Sir? Launcher three is loaded and standing by." There was a pause.

The captain closed his eyes. "Is the Lunatic Pandora still within range?"

"Sir? If we fire on the Dreadnought, we might…"

The captain cut him off. "Is the Lunatic Pandora still within range, ensign?"

"Yes, Sir. But… Sir, our missiles have had no effect on it so far."

It didn't matter. "Send word for launcher three to target the Lunatic Pandora. Fire at will."

The ensign was about to confirm the order, when a hatch banged open. Breathless, a runner waved the dispatch he was carrying as he jumped through the opening in the bulkhead. "Captain! Radioman Parker sends his regards, Sir, and reports that we are now able to receive long-range transmissions again." He paused long enough for a single pant. "Sir, fleet command reports the Lunatic Pandora remains on a steady course for Esthar. Carrier group oh-seven sends word that they are heavily engaged."

There was a pause in his report as the roar of the departing missile echoed through the thick armor of the cruiser's hull.

From above, it appeared as though the William H. Durbin had taken a direct hit amidships as great clouds of smoke billowed out from the vessel's sides. A moment later, the brilliant flare of the ship-to-ship missile's rocket motor emerged from the launcher's exhaust. Slowly at first, then with increasing speed, the large weapon climbed into the afternoon sky. Behind it, two more near-misses bracketed the cruiser with plumes of seawater.

The missile's roar faded to a distant rumble as it transformed into a finger of white exhaust that drew a curved line through wispy fair-weather clouds toward the titanic dark rectangle which loomed over the southern horizon. The Lunatic Pandora's mountainous gray hull was just beginning to glow with the first hints of evening oranges. Abruptly, the warm colors of the afternoon vanished as its shields flared a brilliant green against the fiery explosion of the cruiser's useless missile.

…

The feeling of light-headedness didn't surprise her. If it wasn't her oxygen giving out, the blood pooling in her head as she hung over the soldier's shoulder like a sack of potatoes, or the toxins coursing through her body, then it was probably the painkillers. Quistis's chest hurt as she tried to force a laugh. "So, Hal, been in any situations worse than this one?"

The commando's reply was long in coming. "Not… too many." The microphone picked up his exhausted panting. "…dozen or so." He fell silent again.

Quistis didn't speak again. She had felt him stagger with just the added effort of talking.

How far had they gone? It seemed like the corridor continued on forever. At one point, Quistis had felt herself slipping slightly into a mesmerized state. Frightened fully awake by the strange feeling of deathly euphoria, she tried to keep her mind alert counting how many of the metal floor plates Hal stepped across in ten strides.

Measured from when the rear of his boot crossed a joint between the gratings, she counted 7 plates for every ten strides. This, of course, meant that he covered 7/10ths of a plate in one step. Quistis tried dividing out the fraction to find the decimal equivalent, but was distressed to find that she could not. Her mind kept drifting off on unrelated tangents and the numbers just wouldn't come into focus.

It felt like her entire lower body was asleep. She felt almost as though she ended at the waist. I wonder what it would be like to reach back and touch my legs? Are they still there? I'm being carried by them, right? When was the last time anyone carried me anywhere? Have I ever been carried… even as a child?

Zell had something important to show her. Of course, Zell always had something important to show everyone, or tell everyone, or get anyone to join him in. That's just the way he was, Quistis understood this, why couldn't everybody else? Picking on him wouldn't do any good—sure it would shut him up for the moment, but Zell never changed; he was just like Seifer, or Squall. As she followed the blond boy down between the rocks at the water's edge, she put on—what she thought was—a very mature expression. Then again, none of them would ever change. Selphie, Irvine… and me? A small, very adult smile appeared on the young girl's face. Quistis was pleased with how very grown-up she thought her thoughts were becoming, just as she was pleased she had managed to think of all the others in terms of their full names and not the childish monikers the others used as forms of address.

So wrapped up in her own thoughts was she, that Quistis didn't see where they were headed until it was almost too late. She came to an abrupt halt. "Zell! What are you doing?!"

Already a few feet out on the wet rock reef that was uncovered at low tide at the lighthouse, Zell waved for her to join him. "Come on, Quisty! There's this really cool fish-thingy that nobody's ever seen before!"

"Uh-uh, Zell. You know we're not supposed to go out on the reef when there's not an adult around." Quistis raised one hand to her chin, resting her elbow in her other hand, striking a very stern and mature pose. "How did you find this thing before, anyway?"

Zell ignored the implied accusation. "But Quistyyy! The tide's coming in! It'll take too long to get Matron!" The slightest hint of a sly note crept into the child's voice. "Besides, you're almost an adult anyway, right?"

The hair on Quistis's scalp prickled. That's right! I am! "Well…" She put on a mature frown. He's probably going to go out anyway, even if I don't come...

"Pleeeease! It'll just take a second!" Zell was wringing his hands together. "It's really a new speak-us of fish, we'll be famous!"

"Species." Quistis corrected him automatically. And it wouldn't be very responsible if I just left him out here alone. "Okay, but just a really quick look."

"Alriiight! Yes! It's in that pool right over there!"

She never even got to see the fish. The two children were only halfway out to the tidal pool Zell had indicated, when a rogue wave, carried in by the rising tide had swept both of them into the chilly, choppy water.

Quistis's first thought, as her head broke the surface was about how much trouble she would be in when her she came back in sopping wet clothes. However, a mouthful of seawater and Zell's panicked screaming and sputtering quickly shifted her thinking into a survival state.

Living near the ocean for as long as they could remember, all the children knew how to swim, but Quistis had never been out this far or in water this rough—and certainly not fully clothed. She tried to tread water so she could see where the shore was but another large wave forced her under. She tried to kick to the surface, but her water-filled shoes were dragging her down. With more than a little regret, she kicked both of them off, feeling them slip into the depths. Her lungs were burning by the time she reached the surface again—only to have another wave smack her in the face. Finally, after much spluttering and coughing, she was able to keep her head above water long enough to open her eyes.

Zell, buoyed by his frantic energy, was being swept out around the point toward the open ocean even as he thrashed vigorously at the water around him—seeming almost to be trying to push the entire ocean away from himself screaming for help all the while.

There was only one thing to be done. Quistis didn't spare a second glance back toward shore before she struck out after the blond child. It was not easy going. The waves, which had looked so small and gentle from shore, seemed like great cold mountains—all trying to crash down on her head. Her clothing dragged at her limbs, slowing her movements and sapping her energy. Surfacing after yet another dunking, Quistis saw the tip of the reef slide by. She and Zell were both caught in a strong current rushing out into deeper water. She was growing tired very quickly, and soon it was all she could do just to keep her head above water. Zell, continued to bob like a cork and wail like a banshee.

At last, after what seemed like an eternity of cold, salty water, Zell was within arm's reach. Not sure of how in the world she was going to drag both of them back to shore, Quistis reached out to him nonetheless.

There was a brief moment of disorientation, then Quistis realized she was standing and dripping on firm, warm sand. Zell, shocked quiet, fell on his rump. The boy's silence was short lived, however, and he began bawling with shock and fright from the experience.

Her cold limbs beginning to shake with reaction to her close call even as her chest tightened at the sight of Matron, surrounded by the other children, looking quit stern and displeased. Suddenly, Quistis felt like she was being showered in warm bubbles as the sorceress pointed at her and Zell. Instantly, her clothes were dry and clean, her missing shoes replaced, the chill banished from her body. Matron expression softened as she stepped forward and gathered up the still-sobbing Zell. "There, there, child. It's alright, you're safe now."

Quistis felt just the slightest twinge of sadness as she stood, alone. Of course, she was much too grown up to be held like a baby—or to cry like one. She was also adult enough to tell the truth when Matron—knowing she would not be able to get any information from Zell for quite a while—turned to her. "What happened, Quistis?"

The mature thing to do was to keep it simple. "We went out on the reef, Matron, and a wave knocked us off." Quistis felt a lump rise in her throat as a flicker of a frown crossed Matron's face.

"Quistis, I'm disappointed in you." The sorceress's long black tresses shook slightly. "You know you are not allowed to go out there."

Quistis's eyes were burning, but the others were watching. She would not cry! "I know, Matron, I'm sorry." There had to be something else to say. Maybe when she was a real adult she would know what.

Still holding Zell—who, having thrown his arms around her neck, was now down to rampant sniffles and the occasional sob—Matron's expression softened. "I know, child." And that was that. There was a mixed reaction from the other children. They knew their Matron; there would be no punishment.

Quistis knew she should be grateful. She knew she had just narrowly avoided death and—even worse—real humiliation in front of the others. Still, as she watched Matron turn away and, accompanied by the other children, carry Zell back up to the orphanage, her sides ached to have comforting arms around them—even if she was too grown up to be held.

…

"The Sochia has been sunk. All hands feared lost, Sir. The third carrier group has not been heard from since they reported engaging large numbers of attack aircraft three hours ago. We are still detecting heavy jamming coming from their sector." The Captain of the Gemini I squinted into his binoculars as he half-listened to the reports of the disaster that was currently befalling the Estharian navy.

My God, it's massive! The Lunatic Pandora blotted out the setting sun. Behind it's dark bulk he knew a spectacular sunset must be occurring, but all the crews of the ships of the eleventh task force could see of it were the shafts of gold glinting from around the edges of the titanic floating device.

"Captain, signal from the Gemini II. They are in alignment and ready to fire." The tactical officer reported as he made final adjustments to the confused jumble of switches and knobs on the console before him.

Turning away from the reinforced Plexiglas viewport, the captain nodded. "Very well. Lets give those bastards what for. Power the laser."

"Aye aye, Sir!" The officer had a hard time keeping the excitement out of his voice. This was it! "Shifting drive power to main dynamos."

A shiver ran through the decking of the converted battleship as its two heavy driveshafts were shifted—by way of a truly gigantic clutch apparatus—into sync with a series of electrical power generators. The lights inside the bridge seemed to brighten, the air crackled and smelled of ozone.

The tactical officer raised his voice to be heard over the whining buzz of the ships banks of capacitors charging—three decks below. "Batteries full… Xenon chamber flushed and ready… final alignment with Gemini II confirmed… ready to fire, Captain."

The captain, like the rest of the bridge crew, had pulled his protective goggles over his eyes. "Fire."

There was an ear-splitting SNAP!, and the bridge lighting winked out.

The water between the twin battleships was an inky black in the artificial twilight beneath the shadow of the Lunatic Pandora. Thinking that evening had fallen early, small fish leapt toward the bright sky from the tiny waves. Suddenly, one unlucky creature found itself transfixed in an invisible beam of an ultraviolet laser. In the millionth of a second before the fish was rendered down to its component atoms, the sea between the two large vessels began to boil.

Aboard the Gemini II, the laser light was directed around a tightly coiled series of reflectors before being energized by a second emitter and focused skyward by a three-meter thick aiming lense. Thirty feet above the lens, the light from the two lasers coalesced in a pattern of constructive interference, and a purple beam—so brilliant it seemed almost black—sprang into existence, lancing out toward the dark mass of the Lunatic Pandora.

Nearly a mile above the ocean's surface, three of the myriad aircraft circling, attacking, defending, the Lunatic Pandora were caught in the blast of purple brilliance and exploded. The ethereal green energy barrier, which surrounded the Pandora was torn asunder by the blazing fury of the ships' energy weapon. The metallic skin of the floating monolith peeled back from the nova-like heat of the laser beam. Explosions rocked through a sector of the giant doomsday weapon as the light cut right through to the crystal pillar itself. The tip of the purple lance kissed the crystal.

"Holy shit! Break right! BREAK RIGHT!" Mazza Soares, the Electronic Counter Measures Officer of the Estharian tactical electronic warfare aircraft practically shrieked into his microphone as a pillar of purple energy appeared out of nowhere directly in front of the aircraft.

Fortunately, Earl Soukup—the pilot—wasn't one to hesitate, and he rolled the jet away clear of the energy beam even as he shouted. "What?! Where?! I can't see anything!" Blinded by the brilliant light that had appeared out of nowhere, Earl was flying purely on instinct as he fumbled for the catch on his polarizing visor.

"It's a laser! Put down your goddamn visor!" Mazza would have said more, but a look toward the Lunatic Pandora stunned him into silence.

The sun was just setting to the west of the monolith. Brilliant oranges and pinks painted the contrails of the heavy bombers—that had been showering the Lunatic Pandora's upper surface with their ineffective ordinance—in sharp relief against the deep lavender sky. But certainly no one still able to see could have been paying any attention to the paltry show of the sunset. Not with the Lunatic Pandora looking as it did.

The giant structure seemed caught in a three-dimensional spider web. Thousands of fingers of purple light stabbed out of the burning metal hull of the monolith. Flaming wreckage of aircraft unfortunate enough to be caught in the laser light refracting off the crystal pillar tumbled from the sky on all sides of the mountainous device. The arrows of violet seemed to stretch off into the darkness of space above. Below the Pandora, the ocean writhed and boiled. Lightning danced between clouds of vapor forming from the thousands of cubic meters of seawater already evaporated.

The bridge was dropped abruptly into darkness. Stunned into silence, the crew of the Gemini I slowly pushed their goggles up onto their foreheads. The captain winced as his hands pressed down on the hot, blistered skin of his face. A quick look around the bridge revealed that everyone else had received a nasty burn from the prototype weapon as well. Rings of white, undamaged flesh encircled the eyes of all, but few seemed to notice, for the Lunatic Pandora was burning.

The last orange glow of evening was now supplanted by a smoky ruby glare reflecting from the clouds, smoke, and water below the mammoth flying machine. Gouts of fire jetted from hundreds of blackened punctures in the once-smooth skin of the Pandora. Slowly, the enormous cube began to list to the south.

Finally, the realization of what they had done struck the crew of the Gemini I. A delayed—almost awed—cheering broke out as sailors left their darkened duty stations just long enough to shake the hands and grin foolishly at those near them.

"We hurt them sir! By God, we did!" The grinning face of the navigator appeared before the captain.

"Back to your station." He rubbed his sore temples. "Back to your positions, all of you." The captain didn't shout. He never needed to.

The breath of giddy happiness was quickly swept off the bridge. A look out the windows told them that the Lunatic Pandora had stopped its slow tilt. Fires were being quickly extinguished and the huge floating weapon now loomed larger and closer than ever.

The crew was all business by the time the captain spoke again. "How long before we can fire again?"

"Ten minutes, Sir." The captain was about to nod, but the officer was not finished. "Fleet command reports that a large number of Galbadian aircraft have broken from their positions around the Lunatic Pandora and are headed this way. Our pickets report engaging multiple submerged craft."

The captain pressed his tongue against the inside of his teeth. The Gemini ships were fully specialized to their task. Neither battleship had better than minimal defense capability, they would have to rely on their escort of Destroyers and Corvettes to hold the Galbadians off long enough for them to get enough shots in to permanently disable the Lunatic Pandora. "Well, gentlemen, the cat's out of the bag now. We knew the Galbadian's wouldn't just sit back and take what we throw at them." He glanced down at the dead console before him. "Let's get this ship back online. We've got work to do."

…

Clean. That's how the bow of a ship feels. Clean and carefree. The wind blows through your hair, it tugs at your clothing, it feels like you're wading through a clear river of pure oxygen. Never mind the fact that it's really coating your skin in salt. Never mind that your eyes are watering from the grit and smoke in the air, never mind that this isn't really a ship at all, never mind that all this stinking spray is going to rust out my Ergheiz, damn! The cool wind pulled the tails of the SeeD's jacket back like twin red wings, pointing toward the rear of Galbadia Garden. Standing near the lip of the roofline of the mobile shelter, Zell rested one hand on a raised metal exhaust port while the other dug through his spiky blond locks. Dammit, Squall, Rinoa! Man! What am I supposed to do now? He bared his teeth against the breeze. Should I tell you everything Cid said to us? Do you guys know anything about what's going to happen? Should you know? What will happen if I tell you? "Rrrgh! How the HELL am I SUPPOSED to bring THAT up anyway!?" Zell kicked at a loose shingle. "God, I wish Quistis were here. She'd know how to handle this." Or Selphie, or Irvine. Just anyone but ME. "Man! No matter what I do, I am so screwed!"

The unexpected shout nearly caused the martial artist to lose his balance. "Zell!"

Zell was not sure which was more unnerving. The fact that Squall had said his name without immediately following up with an order; or that the former SeeD commander seemed to almost be smiling as he said it again. "Zell." The brown-haired young man clapped a hand on the SeeDs shoulder. "Glad I found you."

Another smile?! What the hell is going on?! Squall never acts like this. Zell offered up a weak grin in return. "Uh, yeah."

"Listen, Zell, old…" There was almost a hint of a choked pause in Squall's speech. "…buddy. I know you had something really important to tell us earlier, and I'm sorry about being such a jerk back there, but…"

No way, this is just too weird. Zell disengaged Squall's hand from his shoulder. He backed slowly away from the gunblade specialist. "Okaaay, Squall. You're really creeping me out now. Just what the heck has gotten into you? You're acting really weird, man… and you're talking way too much."

The knight's expression suddenly darkened. "Good." Was all he said.

"The hell?" Zell had just raised a hand to scratch his head when Rinoa seemed to appear out of thin air.

"Oh good. I thought you really were you, Zell, but we had to be sure." Rinoa smiled happily at the SeeD's confusion.

"Uh?" Was all the martial artist could think to say. At least one thing had returned to normal; Squall had fallen silent and was assuming his usual glower.

"It's kind of a long story." Rinoa said. I'll try to skip the boring parts."

…

"Deploying countermeasures!" The secondary tactical officer gritted his teeth as the bridge shook from launch and immediate detonation of two barrel-like radar-scrambling chaff canisters. Streamers of floating metal filled the air behind the Gemini I, creating a gigantic radar reflector decoy in an attempt to distract the incoming missiles.

The Lunatic Pandora was almost directly overhead now, the air currents from its passage twisted the smoke from burning ships into convoluted coils of tortured pyrocumulus. A two thousand pound bomb detonated in the water directly to starboard of the modified battle cruiser as a formation of Galbadian jets screamed low overhead. Every window on the bridge shattered from the force of the blast and razor-sharp glass shards sliced the exposed flesh of the crew. The captain shouted an order, but was drowned out by the thunderclap of an Estharian jet going supersonic as it raced by—underwing ordinance nearly trailing in the water—in hot pursuit of the Galbadian bombers.

The tactical officer was screaming something, but the ringing in everyone's ears covered the sound of his voice, so instead, he held up a lacerated hand, with fingers ticking off seconds.

The captain made a slashing motion with his hand, indicating a 'fire when ready' command. A second later, his chest dissolved in a spray of blood as a round from a Galbadian attack aircraft's strafing run ended his life. The few remaining light bulbs on the bridge blew out as the Gemini I's capacitors became supercharged.

Hunkering down behind the scant protection offered by his firing console, the primary tactical officer slammed his fist down on the firing control of the laser.

Again, the ocean boiled between the Gemini I and II. Again, the beam was energized by additional diodes aboard the second ship, but this time, the two vessels had fallen out of alignment. In fact, the Gemini II had just taken two torpedoes below the waterline near the engine room. As the ship began to settle in the water, the laser beam struck the focusing lens at an improper angle. The lens cracked, and brilliant spears of light fountained from the bow of the Gemini II. One errant beam sliced the Gemini I neatly in half before tunneling into the water as the Gemini II began to list rapidly to starboard. The stern half of the battleship shuddered as a beam penetrated the ships large battery banks, igniting escaping hydrogen gas.

A sub-launched missile slammed into the bridge of the Gemini II even as her sister ship's bow and stern halves slipped beneath the waves. At last, the errant laser beams vanished as the last capacitor discharged. The ship's life rafts automatically deployed as the heavy list turned into a death roll and the gigantic ship capsized. Waterfalls cascaded from the Gemini II's still-turning propellers as the narrow-hulled vessel began to break up.

…

High above the purple cloudbanks of evening, the Ragnarok slowly circled several hundred miles from the Estharian coast. President Laguna Loire stood facing the spectacular view of the sunset offered by the giant windows of the spacecraft's main cabin, his hands clasped behind his back. To the south, a formation of high-altitude bombers was limping back to their base in Esthar. Several of the white contrails—brilliant against the deep purple sky—were marred by thick black smoke trailing from the tiny silver specks that he knew to be aircraft. Even as he watched, one such trail of dirty air thickened and curved toward the earth as the pilot lost control of his damaged aircraft. From this distance, the splash the aircraft made when it hit the ocean was invisible—as were any parachutes, if the pilots had managed to bail out.

The president sighed. "So, you authorized all this, Kiros, and you never said a word to me about it?"

"Old friend, I told you about the graphite piles," The dark warrior began counting off points on his fingers. "then I told you about the reactors, then I told you about the special possibilities of Professor Lowery's atomic research."

Laguna did not turn from the window as he shook his head. "But you never told me you had made a bomb, Kiros. You never told me you had built a weapon system out of this new technology."

Kiros dropped his placating tone. "Oh, stop it, Laguna. You knew damn well what we were up to right from the very start." He shook his head violently. "You're not blind, Mr. President, and you're not as stupid as you would have some people believe." Kiros stepped up behind the Estharian president. "So stop pretending your upset about us doing this behind your back, and face up to the real issue you're having with this weapon."

Laguna stared out at the pall of smoke barely visible over the darkening horizon. Briefly, the belly of the ugly cloud was lit by a white glare as a ship's magazines ignited in a titanic explosion. "And what, exactly, is that, Kiros?"

"Your son, Laguna. We don't know whether he's onboard the Pandora or not." One beaded dreadlock slipped out from under the ceremonial headgear the advisor still wore. "You know we aren't going to find out in time, Laguna. You're going to have to decide without knowing."

Kiros was right, of course. Kiros was always right. Laguna had known about the experiments with the explosive metals—even he didn't just sign off on a eight-billion Gil research program without first understanding just how Esthar could benefit from the technologies. Laguna wasn't blind to the effects the weapon would have once detonated. To ensure the destruction of the Lunatic Pandora, the bomb would have to be placed right next to the monolith's skin—inside of it's shields. From what Laguna could recall of his briefing on the effects of the new bomb, an atomic explosion in such close proximity to so much metal would create a cloud of dangerous gasses. Somehow, the gasses could kill without even being inhaled, and wherever they settled, that area would be uninhabitable for many, many years to come because of something called 'radioactivity'. Laguna didn't really understand the mechanics of the process, but he did know that the Lunatic Pandora would soon be too close to Esthar to risk such an attack. But Squall, if you're on board… If you're trying to stop it… The president closed his eyes and rubbed his temples. How can I do this to you, Squall? Dammit! There's so many things I need to… should have… want to… say. Kiros, how can you ask me to make this decision? I'm his father dammit! But he was also the president of Esthar. Millions of people, perhaps even an entire culture would die if he hesitated now. One life. A son who never knew his father. A hero destined for… The Fate, what she told me… is this how it happens? Am I responsible? "Kiros, signal the fleet to pull back. Tell them to begin pre-launch procedures."

Kiros's voice was quiet. "Yes sir, Mr. President." Laguna could feel his friend's eyes piercing his back

…

The searchlight was brilliant in the darkness. It painted the railings and mid-level observation deck of Galbadia garden is stark whites and silvers. The sharp shadows of a half-dozen paratroopers, one SeeD, one knight, and one sorceress were stamped on the metal decking and walls of the garden—replicas in midnight of the actual persons who now stood squinting at the lights of Balamb Garden.

An amplified voice rang out across the dark water. "Attention! Galbadia garden! Power down your engines and prepare to be boarded!" There was a brief whine of feedback and a clip of an exasperated phrase broadcast over the megaphone.

"Howdy yall!" Irvine's amplified drawl echoed across the space separating the two floating structures.

There was a clicking noise and some more feedback before someone else shouted into the megaphone. "…rvine, let go!" A pause. "Hi guys!"

No one on board Galbadia garden really knew what to say—except for Rinoa. She waved energetically and shouted across the water. "Hi Selphie! Hi Irvine!" Then she grabbed one of Squall's arms and shook it back and forth. "Squall says 'hi' too!"

An unamplified voice could be heard shouting: "Turn that damn searchlight off. I'm telling you, they're on our side." The blinding light clicked off. Darkness descended on the two vessels for a moment. There was a quiet thud and then a distant snapping noise as a flare ignited high overhead, providing illumination as it drifted gently down under its parachute. The flare's green light revealed echelons of SeeDs standing at the ready behind a half-dozen cannon-like apparatus mounted on the garden's deck. Each cannon sported a large arrow-like grappling hook.

Squall noticed a Galbadian paratrooper stiffening slightly at the sight of the arrayed forces of the Balamb Garden SeeD. "Relax, soldier. They're friendlies."

The man's expression was halfway between a grimace and a nervous smile. "I sure hope you're right about that, Sir." Turning, he addressed his CO. "He is right, isn't he, Captain Dincht?" The soldier looked around. "Uh… Captain Dincht?" But Zell had vanished.

Iris's view was blocked; couldn't see who was on the standing on the deck of Galbadia garden. Last in the lineup of her boarding party as she was, even standing on tiptoe and craning her neck didn't allow her a good view over the heads of the other SeeDs. As the squad commander ordered the SeeDs to stand down, she allowed herself just the slightest disappointed slump. Come on, Iris. What are the chances that he'd be there anyway? Still, it was surprising how much it hurt to lose a million-to-one shot.

Randall Seelos, one of the SeeDs in her assault team, dropped a comforting hand on her shoulder mistaking the reason for her disappointment. "Aw, don't worry about it, Iris. I'm sure you'll get to blow something up real—what the!?"

Screaming at the top of his lungs, like a madman, a figure came sailing over the lip of the deck where the attack company had assembled. Releasing the rope onto which he had been hanging, the stocky, spiky-haired person hit the deck running full-out just to keep his balance. SeeDs scrambled to clear a path for the out-of-control Tarzan wannabe as he stumbled and seemed about to fall on his face. At the last moment, the gloved figure threw himself forward, halting his mad dash with an aerial somersault. "TA-DAA!" Spreading his arms almost as wide as the grin splitting his features, Zell gestured for applause.

Startled at the appearance of the blond SeeD, Iris could only blurt: "Zell?!"

"WOA!" Zell practically fell on his rear as he realized whom he had come to rest before. His shock quickly fled, however. "Iris!" Automatically, Zell polished a hand on his pant leg and proffered it.

Iris, in her surprise nearly shook the armored hand, but Zell snatched it away just in time. "Oh no! This isn't right! I'm sorry! Just a sec!" He turned, and dashed away, causing the SeeDs—who were just beginning to regroup after his arrival—to scatter again. Forty feet away, he turned back toward the explosives expert, spread his arms, and shouted. "Iris!"

Having gathered her wits, Iris had anticipated the blond SeeD's plan. "Zell!" She cried happily. The two ran toward each other, arms outstretched until they collided, Zell sweeping the pig-tailed student up in a spinning embrace. "Oh, Zell!"

"Oh, Iris!"

Randall, having dusted himself off after diving out of the SeeD's path, stood and rolled his eyes. "Oh brother."

…

"Man, this is creepy. There's no sign at all of that thing." Hal's words brought her snapping back to reality.

"Good." Dahyte's rasping voice rattled down the coridoor. "How's Quistis?"

"I'm still alive back here." The SeeD spoke up.

"Good, I'd hate to think that all this effort is for nothing." Hal wheezed.

Quistis injected a frown into her tone. "All what effort? I'm as light as a feather." There was a very pregnant pause. "I don't hear you agreeing, soldier."

"Sir, yes sir! Dainty as a daffodil, sir!"

The SeeD grimaced but the expression was lost on Hal's back. "I think I liked you better when you were too tired to talk."

"Hey Dahyte, how much farther?" Hal's voice strained for humor. "Too much farther and I'm afraid this crazy chick might gnaw through my spine or something."

Quistis might have replied to that, had she not already drifted away again.

Through supper that night, Quistis had a hard time swallowing around the lump that just wouldn't leave her throat. Zell had eventually stopped crying long enough to recount the entire incident for Matron—telling her everything; how he had been the reason they were both out on the reef in the first place; how he had seen Quistis swimming toward him instead of back to the shore and safety; his honesty was one of the things Quistis liked most about the emotional boy—that, and the fact that he was one of the only children who would follow her orders. However, even after Matron had congratulated Quistis on her bravery, even after seeing the new glints of respect in the other childrens'—and especially Squall's—eyes, Quistis still felt a dull aching within herself.

Late that night, after hours of trying valiantly to put the whole affair behind her, Quistis finally gave in. Sure that everyone else was asleep, she padded quietly into the bookroom—Matron always referred to it as the study. It was a small adjunct to the orphanage, with bookshelves on each side. The tiny bit of floor space remaining was occupied by a padded children's seat, much to small for an adult. Quistis usually spurned it, but tonight she sat.

Quistis couldn't be sure how Matron knew where to find her. Perhaps it was her quiet sniffing, or the flickering light of the single candle she had lit, but find Quistis she did.

The young blond girl felt a light touch on her shoulder—the same shoulder that shook as she struggled to hold in a sob. "Quistis, why are you crying?" The sorceress's calm, knowing voice betrayed the fact that she already possessed the answer to her question.

"I don't know." Quistis whispered.

The loving voice whispered in Quistis's ear as she felt herself being lifted gently from the chair. "I do."

The child at last allowed herself cry out the worries of the present, allowed herself to be a child, allowed herself to be comforted and supported and loved. "It's alright Quistis, it's going to be okay."

"Huh?"

"I said: we're here, Quistis." She was staring up at Hal's faceplate as he looked down at her. The SeeD felt a moment's disorientation as she woke from the dream. Something sparkled on the inside of the commando's faceplate.

"Hal, what's wrong?" She realized that he was sitting, holding her in his lap. The room they were in was much smaller than anything she had seen inside the moon base yet. Two cool blue glowing tubes illuminated bare walls and ceilings only a few short feet away with exposed piping and circuitry running over nearly every surface. It at least looked a little like a spacecraft.

The lights flashed off the glass in front of the Galbadian's face as he shook his head. "Nothing, Quistis. Nothing. Dahyte is initiating the launch countdown."

"Hal, please tell me what it is." Quistis asked.

There was a long pause. At last, the commando turned his head to face the SeeD. The inside of his mask was beginning to fog over. "I'm sorry Quistis. I'm so sorry."

The words should have constricted metal bands around her heart again, but she was finally beyond fear. By all rights, she should have died long ago. Nothing but peace and sorrow remained.

Finally, Hal continued. "There's no air, Quistis. This ship isn't carrying anything but a few canisters of the moon's atmosphere." He swallowed. "On what we have left, we can't… we can't make it home." He turned his face away again.

She should have said something. She should have found a way to encourage him. She should have made a suggestion. She should have remembered to tell him that no situation was impossible. But it was. The whine and vibration of pumps as the ship prepared to launch was the only sound in the cabin. Dahyte was not within Quistis's view.

For the first time in a long while, Quistis felt a slight tingling in her legs and behind her back. "I can feel you holding me, Hal."

"Do you mind terribly?" He whispered.

Slowly, gently, Quistis rested her head against the padded side of her helmet. Somewhere, beneath it, through a dozen layers of plastic and Kevlar, the heart of the last one to ever hold her was beating. "It's alright, Hal." She felt his chest shake slightly. She felt his helmet descend and bump with her own. "It's going to be okay."

Through the shoulder plates of her armor, through the padded glove over her hand, she could feel the warmth of the soldier she barely knew.

Through the bulletproof vest, through the sealed sleeves of his suit, he could feel the warmth of the SeeD he wished he could have gotten to know better.

There was nothing else to be said or done.

Through the red film coating her eyes, Dahyte rechecked what she hoped were figures for the rocket's ignition procedure. The controls were all labeled in the language of the long dead culture but some thoughtful engineer had decided to include a pictorial illustration of what each button, lever, and knob did on the control console. The pain in her lungs, and the shock she was feeling slowed her wits, even as she rushed to complete the firing sequence.

This isn't right. How could there be no air? This isn't the way things turn out. There would be something, there had to be something—some way around this last impossible obstacle. Dahyte cast a quick glance back into the tiny cabin of the escape pod before stabbing what she hoped to be the ignition button.

A brilliant orange flare pierced the gloomy mist on the dark side of the moon as the escape rocket rose on a pillar of fire.

The acceleration was bad. She struggled for each breath of the stinging, bitter air as she was crushed into her seat—and yet, she survived. This isn't the way it's supposed to happen. We'll figure out something, Quistis. I know we will. Something besides the acceleration squeezed a drop of blood from the corner of the sniper's eye. Heroes never…

…

The thought popped, unbidden into his mind. The knight frowned. It was the least of his worries, and yet, he couldn't seem to banish the thought.

The spotless white yacht absolutely glowed under the wash of moonbeams, filtered by high clouds and jet contrails. In the choppy sea, the small ship left a phosphorescent wake as something about its propellers stirred the bioluminescence of tiny sea creatures. A crewmember cast a worried glance at the glowing trail in the ocean.

Seifer had no idea where the crew of the yacht came from. They kept to themselves as they attended the daily business of keeping the pleasure boat running trim and smooth, and the knight had no reason to talk to them. From what conversation he had overheard, he knew the crew was worried about being so close to the Estharian fleet. The blond man sneered. Undoubtedly the Estharian navy had much bigger fish to fry at present. Slowly, Seifer's expression twisted into a smile as a thought occurred to him. or perhaps they only think they do.

For a brief instant, the sky lit up with a white flash. Several minutes later, a hollow booming noise rolled across the water from the explosion—several miles over the horizon. The battle that had covered the sea with a thin haze of smoke during the day was apparently still raging. Seifer found the backdrop suited his mood. He was restless, unable to concentrate on any one thing. The sorceress Sera had departed only a few hours prior with an order that he should await her summons.

"Dammit!" Seifer growled and struck the deck gently with Hyperion's tip. He was thinking about them again. Is it really any surprise? They were the only people I ever could call friends. Is it any wonder I should want to know what happened to them? But why now? Why? They are nothing compared to the importance of events about to happen. Still, the thought would not leave him. Slowly, he—

Suddenly, the sun leapt above the southeastern horizon. Seifer felt the hairs on his arms prickle. It was nearly dawn, but the sun never rose like that.

…

Lieutenant Baird Durban had whittled his fingernails down to the quick. He had been sitting in the cockpit of the motionless rocket plane for over an hour now. He was certain every emotion conceivable had already run through his mind, twice, yet he still gnawed away at his fingers like there was no tomorrow. And for me, there probably won't be.

With the thought, the raging pain struck again. The young lieutenant's hands tightened on the control yolk until he was certain the metal would bend.

The night had started out bad, and gone to inconceivable. In the storm, the carrier's deck had seemed to shrink from a postage stamp to a needle's point. It had been his third landing attempt—the last before his fuel situation would force him to ditch in the thirty-foot seas. By some miracle, the rain had cleared long enough for him to set his aircraft down on the bucking deck of the ship—only just snagging the last arrester cable.

He had made it five feet from the plane that the ground crew was struggling to get below decks before the release of so much tension caused him to vomit all over himself and the deck. Embarrassed, feeling—and smelling—terrible, then-Second-Lieutenant Durban had only wanted to crawl into his bunk and die when he received the message that ended his life.

He had known something was wrong when they skipped his debriefing—that never happens. By the time they had brought the ship's psychological counselor in to the comfortable room in which they had left him, Second Lieutenant Durban felt ready to vomit again.

It was his father, wasn't it? The treatments had failed. He was dying, right?

The psych had shaken his head and held up a hand, but Baird wouldn't let him speak.

It must have been his brother then. There had been an accident, or maybe his mother, just please, dear God, don't tell me that Marie…

It wasn't her. It was all of them. It turned out that the Lunatic Pandora had not been stopped. It turned out that no one had been able to repulse the flood of monsters. It turned out that no on in his hometown had escaped.

No one. Not even Marie. Not even the child she carried—his child.

Oh fuck you, God. Fuck you.

He knew why they were calling him. He keyed his mic. They always called when he cried. "I'm fine." His voice was choked.

"Lieutenant, we have a line of backups. There's no shame in stepping down if you don't think…" The voice on the other end was compassionate.

"No." It isn't going to happen again. It isn't going to happen to anyone else. Just like each of the other ten volunteers—all waiting to take the controls of the flying bomb—Baird Durban had undergone the rigorous psychological training and examinations. The control room knew he would do what had to be done, and they would not remove him unless he asked. "I'm ready to go." His voice was tight with anger. "When are they going to give the order?!"

"Soon."

…

"You're out of time, Laguna. You have to make a decision now." The presidential advisor repeated.

"I know Kiros, I know!" Laguna was sitting in one of the few chairs remaining in the Ragnarok's cabin-turned-command room. "Status of the Lunatic Pandora?"

"The same as it was forty-five seconds ago." Kiros folded his arms.

Laguna's hand was buried in the dark hair—streaked with quite a bit more gray than it had been a few days before. "Status of the weapon?"

"The same as—look, Laguna. If you can't order the strike, I'll tell them it's a no-go. But you have to decide!" The cabinet member kept his voice even. "Do you wish to deploy the weapon, Mr. President?"

The roar of the spacecraft's engines seemed quiet next to the thundering silence in the cabin.

"I'm sorry, Squall." The president's voice was a whisper.

"What did you sa—"

"Do it." Laguna squeezed his eyes shut. I'm a soldier and a president. It's true. The Fate was right. I'm a murderer, not a father.

…

Irvine eased one of his arms from around Selphie's waist up to his head, scratching the scalp just under his hat. The small SeeD before him was twisting one foot back-and-forth in a nervous tic as she stared down at the deck plates. A few feet away, Squall was holding Rinoa as she cried into his jacket. His face was set in stone as he stared out over the dark ocean.

Irvine wasn't sure just how it had happened, one minute they had been a babble of happy voices racing to catch up on the events of the past few weeks, but then the news about Matron had somehow slipped out. The sharpshooter's hand returned to Selphie's waist. Of course, he certainly couldn't find fault in Rinoa's reaction—he and Selphie had been no less shocked.

At long last, Rinoa managed to compose herself. "H-how did it happen?"

Galbadia garden was practically deserted. Xu was allowing the Galbadian paratroopers to use the Balamb Garden's long-range transmitters to report back to the CISS. After stopping both gardens side-by-side, the SeeDs had been taken off alert and sent back to their quarters for some much-needed rest. Irvine's words echoed in the empty hallway. "It was during the attack on the B-Garden. She was… trying to hold back the Galbadian's long enough to evacuate injured underclassmen."

Rinoa sniffled. "And Mr. Kramer?"

"The headmaster is…" Irvine paused. "He's okay."

No, he's not. Squall's eyes closed. He'll never be 'okay' again. Oh, Matron, why did you let this happen? Didn't you see it coming? You always knew what was coming. You even saw… Ultimecia.

Irvine had just opened his mouth to speak when Selphie interrupted. "Hey, does anyone else hear that?"

The sharpshooter cocked his head to the side. "Yeah, sounds almost like a helicopter—but that's impossible, there's nobody around for hundreds of miles."

Squall frowned, keeping his arms around Rinoa's shoulders. "We should check it out." He looked down at the sorceress.

Swallowing, Rinoa wiped her eyes. "I'm okay." She nodded. "Let's go."

The above the open upper deck of Galbadia garden, stars were already beginning to fade from the vault of the heavens as the first hints of dawn rode across the sky on a light easterly breeze. The deck was coated with briny dew from the night. The moisture glinted in the strobe lights of the white helicopter—which had already set down near the outer edge of the roofline. The early morning calm was broken by the whine of its jet-turbine engine winding down as the rotating blades slowed.

Squall's sword, like Irvine's Exeter and Selphie's Crescent Wish, was already drawn as he approached the unarmed aircraft.

The tinted window on a door at the front of the helicopter jiggled as someone inside worked the latch. A second later, the door swung back, revealing the pilot of the chopper. With infinite care and slowness, the hunched and helmeted figure unbuckled her harnesses and clambered down from the doorway. Wrinkled hands gingerly lifted the helmet from her head, revealing the countenance of an aged woman.

"Rachel?!" Selphie burst out.

The old woman's eyes lit up as she spotted the two SeeDs in the dimness. "Selphie! Irvine!" Her gaze alighted on the young swordsman standing beside the mercenaries. A knobby hand jumped to her mouth. "Oh my! Is it…? It… it is! Squall Leonhart!" She took a step back as she spied the raven-haired girl beside the knight. "And… and… S-Sorceress Heartilly!!" Suddenly, even in the twilight, the four friends could see the tears sparkling in the old woman's eyes. "You're here!" She was hobbling toward them quickly now. "Oh! Oh…!"

Squall's grip tightened on the sword. He spared a quick glance at the SeeDs. "You know her?"

"Yeah, Squall, it's okay. She's a friend." Irvine replied.

Selphie had lowered her weapon at the appearance of the wizened sorceress. "Rachel, what are you doing here?" Her brows drew together. "And where's Quistis?"

But the sorceress was apparently too overcome at the sight of Rinoa to pay the questions any heed. "Oh… This must be a dream! It's too perfect! It's actually going to work!" She stretched a shaking hand toward Rinoa, as if unable to believe that the sorceress was real and not just a trick of the light.

Rinoa held herself from drawing back from the excited old woman as she took the gnarled hand in her own. "Yes. I am the sorceress Rinoa Heartilly." A wane smile surfaced. "I don't believe we've met."

The woman's whole body seemed to be quivering with excitement. "Oh, no, no we haven't. But, but, I've read all the books about you. Oh, and I've watched all the old movies… even the one with Sherry Fraley in it—but, but, oh, you're so much prettier than… and I-I…"

Rinoa's smile was fading quickly into confusion as she looked to Selphie and Irvine for an explanation of the old woman's words. "Uh… I'm flattered."

Selphie cleared her throat. "Um, Rachel?" The old sorceress continued to bubble over with excitement, ignoring the seed. "Rachel!!"

At last, the shout captured the woman's attention. "Huh?"

"Rachel, we haven't had time to tell Rinoa and Squall about you yet." Selphie continued. "They don't have any idea who—."

"OH NO! TIME!!" The old woman wailed. "I almost forgot!" Still holding on to Rinoa's hand, she turned to Selphie. "Quick! You've got to tell everyone over there," she motioned to the SeeDs on the Balamb Garden decks—heading over to investigate the new arrival, "to get inside!"

Irvine scratched his head. "Why? What's going on?"

"Please! There's no time to explain! Just trust me!" Without waiting for a response, the sorceress turned to Rinoa. "Sorceress Heartilly, I found your angel wings, but I really need to use them just for a second. Is that okay?"

Even as Irvine shrugged and cupped his hands over his mouth, shouting through the improvised megaphone for the SeeDs to take cover, Rinoa pressed her lips together in a confused frown. "Uh, I guess so."

"Oh, thank you!" The hunched woman released Rinoa's hand and turned toward the helicopter. Abruptly, one of the rear doors blew off of the flying machine, and the two splendorous wings of white carved stone sailed across the deck. The old sorceress turned, allowing the magical array to affix itself to her shoulders. Before anyone could move, the wings crackled and sparked as a shower of strange magic poured from the sorceress's upraised fingertips.

Squall advanced on Rachel even as he felt the spell wrap around his body. "What are you doing?!" His grip on the sword tightened as his vision seemed to dim.

The old woman raised a hand. "Wait! It will protect you, look!" She pointed to the horizon.

…

The aircraft beneath him seemed to be trying to shake itself to pieces. The solid rocket motor burning at the tail of the plane roared, spat, and coughed as jetted flame and smoke, propelling the flying bomb through the sky at a terrific pace. Lieutenant Durbin barely dared take his eyes off the controls long enough to glance over at the high-speed Estharian jet fighters escorting him toward his target. Still, in the moment he was able to glance over, he glimpsed the closest pilot snapping him a salute. 'Good luck, buddy.'

Abruptly, the booster engine cut off and silence descended over the cockpit. In front of him, the analogue gages, that had been gyrating wildly a moment before, settled into a slow progression as they tracked his aircraft's arcing path across the early morning sky. There were no computers aboard this aircraft. Despite their best efforts, Estharian scientists had yet to come up with a counter to the degrading effects the explosive-metal bomb's radiation on electronic circuitry. That was why Baird had to be here in the first place. Had he bothered to check the tiny radiation counter attached to his flight suit's right breast pocket, he would have noted that the amount of radiation he had already absorbed was approaching the tolerances for a lethal dose. It didn't really matter.

The flying bomb continued its track across the sky as Estharian strike craft fled eastward. Below him, Lieutenant Durbin thought he saw the flash of twin-afterburning engines streaking away from the Lunatic Pandora. "You're welcome."

Baird's jaw tightened as the giant floating box filled his view. It was his first real glimpse of the Lunatic Pandora. The thing was huge. He had already decided he hated it. His escort had long since vanished—drawing the swarms of Galbadian fighters away from the Pandora as he progressed on a steady course towards the device.

WHAM! His canopy glowed green as the Pandora's shield caught and held his craft. A sheer metal cliff stretched off in all directions. Without hesitation, Lieutenant Durbin ignited the second—and final—rocket motor. Bolts of green lightning danced across the bomb's wings and fuselage as it slowly tunneled into the resistive shielding. This is it. Baird's muscles felt sluggish as he flipped the safety cover off the weapon's trigger. Must be the radiation. It had already dulled and curled the photograph taped to the aircraft's dashboard. It seemed like such a huge effort—but it was well worth it—as Baird Durbin brushed a lead-lined glove with his lips before smoothing the curled darkening photograph. Just as he had once smoothed the bobs in Marie's short brown locks. "See you soon, love." The aircraft lurched under him as it broke through the shielding. Lieutenant Durbin closed his eyes as he pressed the trigger.

…

The brilliant sphere rising in the east painted the shadows of the SeeDs, sorceresses, and knight across the upper deck of G-Garden. Squall could feel the blanketing magic tighten

around him. Through it, the ball of fire in the west seemed not to brighten so much; rather, the rest of the world seemed to dim to blackness. He could see nothing but the quickly fading

balloon of light. He stared at it uncomprehendingly.

Dozens of miles away, the heat of the sun was raging. The metal hull on the Pandora's eastern side simply ceased to be. For the Galbadians manning the device, there was no

warning. They were vaporized by the ten-thousand-degree heat long before their brains could register the signals from their nerve endings. If time could have been slowed for an instant, an

observer would have noted the shock from the overpressure wave of the atomic blast actually tore the giant supports from the crystal pillar as it rippled through the monolith's metal skin.

Millionths of a second later, the alloys flashed to superheated vapors and plasma as the fireball washed over them. The great bulk of the crystal pillar itself shielded the western side of the

Lunatic Pandora for nearly an entire second before the blast engulfed the remainder of the floating weapon.

Having consumed the whole of the Lunatic Pandora, the fireball continued to expand into open air, it's outer edges cooling to a mere two thousand degrees. It pushed before it, a

sphere of compressed air. As the concussive shock from the blast expanded at transonic speed, it dissociated any clouds in its path, superheating the water vapor. Once it had passed, the

sudden drop in pressure cooled the air between the dimming fireball and the expanding shockwave causing a huge sphere of water vapor to enshroud the explosion.

The shock wave passed over several ships unlucky enough to be in the area, shattering the hulls of those closer in, while capsizing ones further out. A Galbadian and Estharian

submarine that had engaged each other with torpedoes directly below the Pandora had their hulls popped like soap bubbles, although submarines lurking deeper survived relatively

unharmed.

The fireball continued to expand and cool; it's edge stopping just a few feet above the boiling sea surface. In total, the explosion had expanded to a maximum diameter of roughly

one-and-one-quarter miles. The shockwave was now nearly fifteen miles from the epicenter of the blast and racing outward at around mach two.

The fireball quickly collapsed back in upon itself, sucking in air and water from the surroundings. The ocean water—already heated by the blast—was vaporized in massive

quantities by the sudden drop in pressure, adding to the four-mile-wide plume of white cloud and smoke rising from where the explosion had erupted.

Squall started slightly as two arms slipped out of the darkness surrounding him and threaded their way in with his own. "What was that?" Rinoa's voice, close to his ear, was

breathless with awe—and maybe a little fear.

The world was beginning to brighten again as Squall shook his head. "I have no idea." He was about to say more, but then the pressure wave from the explosion washed across

the gardens.

By the time it reached the two flying academies, the shockwave was traveling at a mere four hundred miles-per-hour and was accompanied by two hundred and seventy-five

mile-per-hour winds. The noise from the blast had just caught up to the shockwave. If the magical barriers surrounding the SeeDs, Sorceress, and Knight hadn't suddenly frozen them to

the deck and cut off all sounds, they would have surely been swept into the ocean and deafened by the roar. Fortunately, both mercenary schools had been built as refugee shelters and,

as such, were able to withstand the screaming winds and filter the thunderous noise of the explosion down to levels tolerable to their occupants.

The helicopter on which the sorceress had arrived did not fare nearly as well as the gardens. The flying machine was tossed into the air by the winds, all of its doors and windows

blown out. For a moment, it seemed almost as if the aircraft could surf gracefully on the raging gale—but then it slammed into the wall of the sail-like ridge running the length of Galbadia

Garden and was crushed into scrap. The debris were swept clear of the decking to plunge into the ocean nearly half a mile beyond the edge of the garden's rooftop.

The rope bridges erected between the two gardens screamed in the wind and then parted with gunshot-like snaps as the gardens shifted with the gale. The remains of the

makeshift walkways beat themselves to shreds on the sides of the garden, denting the armored sides in their frantic violence. There was a momentary calm, and then the winds

returned—this time from the opposite direction—as air rushed in to fill the vacuum created by the blast.

At last, the storm abated. To the east, where the Lunatic Pandora had floated, now loomed a towering white cloud. The gigantic mass of vapor seemed to rise like a blossoming

flower. Almost invisible on the horizon, it's base was still enshrouded in the grays of night, but halfway up the mountainous column of smoke, the rays of the dawning sun painted the

opaque column all the warm shades of morning. As the great bud of vapor—all that remained of the titanic fireball—rose into the stratosphere, it flattened against the high-altitude winds,

giving the impression of a giant mushroom. The spreading cap glowed a brilliant white in the light from the sun—still far below the horizon.

As the magical protection released its hold on him, Squall could see lightning playing across the shadowed portions of the mushroom cloud. No one spoke as they all stared at the

cloud. No one could think of anything to say.

…

The captain flipped the handgrips up with a snap and the periscope slipped back into its housings. He turned to the small patrol submarine's two passengers. "Great Hyne… it's

over. Just like you said it would happen, Sir." He addressed the man—dressed in plain clothing—who stood next to the hooded and robed figure.

The man nodded. "Move in next to Galbadia Garden and surface the boat."

The Galbadian captain saluted briefly. "Yes, Sir." He turned toward the helmsman—the only other sailor on the tiny bridge. "Make your heading two-four-one. Bow planes up

five degrees." He pressed the button on the intership microphone he held. "Engine room. All ahead dead slow." It was an awkward system, but the submarine had been designed as a

picket boat for naval harbors—the ship had never been meant to travel this far from Galbadian waters, or serve as a platform for boarding parties.

The man frowned. "Be quick about it. We don't have much time."

A few moments later, the stubby conning tower of the submarine rose from the water—still flat from the shockwaves—beneath the overhanging decks of Galbadia Garden, and

slipped up to an access hatch set into the bottom of the garden. The cloaked figure emerged from the submarine first. Two clawed hands emerged from the depths of its loose sleeves and

wrapped themselves around the Garden hatch's undogging mechanism. After it had opened the access port, the figure pulled itself inside, followed shortly by the man with whom the

captain of the submarine had spoken. Once they were both inside, the captain's head poked out of the sub's own egress port.

He peered into the dimness where his passengers had just disappeared. These have got to be the strangest sailing orders I've ever carried out. The captain of the little

submarine was just about to close the hatch and return to his bridge, when a face appeared from the darkness of the port above.

The captain couldn't help but gasp, for the visage that stared down at him was the strangest thing he had ever seen. The clear plate of a mask over the creature's features did

nothing to hide the thing's dead gray eyes or green-scaled skin. "If you want to survive," it hissed at him, "dive deep." The hatch slammed shut with a loud clank.

…

Rinoa noticed that her arms were still wrapped tightly around her knight even as her eyes—along with everyone else's were locked to the spectacle on the horizon. She felt him

start at the exclamation.

"Whoo-hoo! BOOOM!!" Selphie had finally found her voice. "Now that's what I call smithereens!" She tugged playfully at Irvine's vest. "Irvy, see that?" She pointed to where

the bomb had gone off. "I want one!"

"Uh-huh." The sharpshooter was still staring off at the horizon.

Selphie frowned as she surveyed everyone's unresponsiveness. Come on, you guys! It's just another big surprise. If you're going to stand around all slack-jawed every

time this sort of thing happens…

Rachel was the second one to speak. She shook herself slightly, her trance broken by the SeeD's shout. "So that's what it looks like…"

Giving up on Irvine for the moment, Selphie turned to the wizened sorceress. "You knew about this." It was not a question.

The old woman nodded slowly. "Yes." She blinked twice. "We call them 'atomic bombs.' They're the only real weapon we have against the sorceress and her monster hordes."

She moistened her lips, still looking eastward. "Esthar was the first to use one… I guess that was it."

Selphie flashed a quick smile and turned back to her gangly beau. "You hear that, Irvine?" She had to stand on tiptoe to snap her fingers in his face. "'Atomic Bomb'. I want one.

Write it down."

At last, the tall SeeD wrenched his eyes away from the towering cloud. "Alright, darlin', I'll git right on it." He patted her head.

Rinoa had given up trying to understand what was going on, instead, she concentrated on ensuring that Squall did not escape. Aren't I allowed to be a little clingy after all

this? The sorceress closed her eyes. Maybe if we just hold on to each other, and maybe if we just step a little closer… Maybe everything else will just go away. Maybe, when

I open my eyes… She chanced a peek. Disappointing. The world was still out there.

Squall had the strangest urge just to shrug and say 'whatever.' Whatever. I don't think anything could surprise me now. He shook his head inwardly. What happened to

the days when it was my gunblade and magic verses the monsters? When did things get so complicated? He felt Rinoa's arms tighten around him. A long time ago, he might have

pulled away. A long time ago, he might have been annoyed and told her that 'this is serious.' Now, however, he simply leaned into her embrace, letting his own arms fall around her waist.

I know, Rinoa. I want this to all go away, too.

A few SeeDs had emerged from Balamb Garden. Most of them stood, staring at the mushroom cloud—now lined with sliver and gold as the sun rose behind it. At last, Xu—one

of the first people out after the winds had abated—spotted the small group on G-Gardens deck and shouted across the gap separating the two schools. "Mr. Kinneas, Miss Tilmitt,

report!"

Irvine cupped his hands around his mouth. "The Lunatic Pandora's been destroyed, mam! Everything's gone!"

Suddenly, the sorceress Rachel stiffened, her eyes widening. "Oh no!" She pressed her knuckles to her mouth. "No, it hasn't! I forgot again!" She tried to shout across the water,

but found that her voice was not strong enough. "Selphie! Quick! Tell them to take the garden up!"

Selphie turned. "What? What are you talking about?"

The hunched sorceress gestured frantically toward the sky. "Up! Fly! We have to get the gardens up out of the water!"

Irvine had turned to face the sorceress. "Why?"

Rachel shook her head violently. "There's no time to explain! Just tell them!"

Irvine looked at Selphie, the short SeeD shrugged. "I guess I trust her." She turned back toward Balamb Garden, drawing breath to shout. As her gaze fell upon the eastern

horizon, she saw the reason for the sorceress's concern.

The blast from the nuclear bomb had completely destroyed the giant airship. The atomic fires had scoured the surface and tunnels of the crystal clear of the support structure that

transported it from place to place. All that remained of the Lunatic Pandora was a spreading cloud of radioactive dust—and the crystal pillar. The gigantic fireball that had consumed the

hull, engines, and crew of the Pandora had been unable to so much as scratch the mountain-sized gem. As a result—shortly after the runaway atomic chain-reaction had finally stopped the

growth of the fireball, the multi-million ton rock had begun its descent into the sea—well over a mile below.

Twenty seconds after the destruction of the Lunatic Pandora, the Crystal Pillar reached the ocean.

…

"The jet stream has shifted to the north, Mr. President. Most of the fallout from the explosion should remain well off our coast." Kiros looked up from the sheet of paper he had

been reading for a moment before continuing. "Laguna, satellite surveillance reports that the Crystal Pillar was not destroyed by the explosion."

President Loire turned away from the viewing window. Been spending too much time thinking, Laguna, time to be president again. "What?!"

Kiros looked grim. "It fell into the ocean. We didn't foresee this, but I think we'll be able to deal with it. I'm issuing Tsunami warnings for our entire eastern coastline. I'll send

notice to Balamb, Timber, and Dollett as well."

Two fingers across his lips, his thumb under his chin, Laguna nodded. "Send an alert to the fleet." Or whatever's left of it.

"Yes, Sir." Kiros looked down again. "Oh, one more thing; the B-Garden SeeD reports that Galbadia Garden is under the control of the CISS… Squall Leonhart and the

sorceress Rinoa Heartilly are aboard."

Laguna's eyes were tightly shut. His chin pressed down on the hand upon which it rested. No breath passed his lungs as he sank into one of the compartment's padded seats.

Alive.

At long last, his throat unlocked. "Get them on the radio." He swallowed. "I want to talk to him."

Very slowly, Kiros shook his head. "I'm sorry, Laguna. We lost contact with them when the bomb went off." He held up a hand as Laguna bolted to his feet. "Laguna, stay calm.

We're almost certain they were far enough from the explosion to survive." He answered the president's next question before the man could force it out from between the bars of his fear.

"We've been getting reports of electronic equipment being destroyed by some sort of side-effect of the weapon. We think the same thing happened to the gardens."

Still, the president's face remained a dead pale. "Do they know about the tidal wave?"

Kiros closed his eyes as he nodded. "If they didn't before, they will in the next minute."

…

"Helm's not responding, mam! Everything's dead!" B-Garden's pilot looked back at Xu from the useless control console.

Xu's fingertips rested against the cool glass wall of the garden's bridge as she gazed out at the wall of water rushing toward the two gardens. The regular ocean swell flattened

before the oncoming wave. The horizon continued to climb higher and higher as the tsunami approached, it's top was shrouded in spray as air—rushing up the face of the liquid cliff at high

speed—stripped it from the surface of the ocean. As the dark wall obscured the sun, she turned back to the public address system's microphone, but there wasn't anything left to say. If

the SeeDs hadn't been able to seal the outer hatches and evacuate the decks by now, it was too late. She let the microphone drop from her hand.

The color seemed to leach from the already-drab garments worn by the old sorceress. Under her feet, the mosaic pattern faded from the tiles of Galbadia Garden's upper deck. A

few inches from the sorceress's upraised hands, a sphere of black hovered. The tiny ball of magic seemed to suck at the air around it as the hunched woman muttered unintelligible

phrases. Tendrils of a black fog twisted between the wings of stone she wore—the magical array had never been designed for use by another, and the strain was showing as sorcery

seeped from them.

Even as the wrinkled sorceress engineered her strange spell, Rinoa was busy weaving her own. The dark-haired girl's eyes glowed amber while she pulled layer after layer of

protective magic from the air and wrapped it about the group standing exposed before the towering ocean.

Squall had never felt so helpless in all his life. He stood—teeth locked, hand resting on the hilt of the useless sword—and watched the shadow of the wave fall across the deck. He

glanced over toward Rinoa, but she was a million miles away.

The foot of the wave reached Balamb Garden first. Inside, SeeDs and students alike clung to any support they could find as the massive structure tilted underfoot.

Xu watched, never blinking, as—high above her—the crest of the wave began to descend upon the garden. She was surprised by the calm that had overtaken her. It's just too

big. This is it. With only seconds left, she felt a profound sadness sweep over her. This is how SeeD will end. She had promised herself she wouldn't, but at the last second, she

closed her eyes…

…and opened them again, as she felt the warmth of the sun on her face. To the south and to the north, the lips of the giant spherical hole carved into the wave began peeling

inward to fill he enormous gap that had appeared in the wall of water. An exclamation of wonder was stricken from her lips as she stumbled into the wall, the garden accelerating

underfoot—sliding down the front of the much-diminished tsunami.

The black sphere hovering before the sorceress Rachel flashed into nothingness even as a quarter-mile-wide hole appeared in the giant wave. The elderly woman collapsed to the

deck before anyone could move to assist her. Then, chaos erupted.

Balamb Garden—carried along by the remains of the cliff of water—slammed into Galbadia Garden's prow, backwards. The ridged support of it's tail-like stern crashed through

the red walls of the former desert training center, buckling plates and shattering tiles. The stern clove through the upper decks of G-Garden like a razor through cardboard. There was an

enormous jolt as the sharp stern impacted the central support column of the desert training center. The massive beam bent under the strain, but held fast, arresting Balamb Garden's

motion. Plumes of spray shot skyward as the gardens' hulls collided and both massive structures bucked and pitched beneath their occupants like wild horses. B-Garden's sharp stern

continued to grind into the central support of G-Garden as the former island training center pivoted about its axis.

Both gardens shuddered again as the rings of their drive systems collided beneath the surface of the water. Enormous chunks of metal exploded from the ocean like maddened fish

as the tangled propulsion fins broke under the strain. As Balamb Garden swung past Galbadia Garden, the outermost decks of the desert garden slammed against the smooth sides of the

island SeeD's training center, leaving a huge dent in the hulls of both structures.

At last, with a few final screams of tortured metal, the frothing wave carried the two gardens clear of each other and the tsunami rolled off to the west. Balamb Garden—not too

much the worse for wear rotated slowly in the uneasy sea.

Galbadia garden had not faired so well, however. The lower bulkheads had been opened to the ocean, and seawater was rushing into the great gaping hole left by B-Garden's

stern. The mauled central support beam groaned warningly as ocean filled the lower decks and G-Garden settled lower in the water.

Beneath him, Squall felt his sorceress stir. At the last possible second, he had tackled her to the deck, wrapping his arms and legs around her own and covering her body with his.

"This is becoming a habitual thing, isn't it?" Two brown eyes smiled up at him. "You didn't need to—I know how to cast protective magic, you know."

She was right, of course. Despite the maelstrom of metal and tile, despite the bucking decks and thundering water, the sorceress's magic had kept everyone from harm.

The sorceress dusted herself off. "How about next time, I get to be on top?"

Squall couldn't decide whether to wear a scandalized expression or smile slyly, so he settled for befuddlement. He opened his mouth, though he had nothing to say. "…"

Selphie's shout saved the knight from further comment. "Squall! Rinoa! Come quick!" The brown-haired SeeD was kneeling next to the collapsed form of the elderly sorceress.

Irvine, beside her, pushed himself up from one knee and—taking a step back—cast a Curaga spell on the still figure.

By the time Squall and Rinoa reached her, Rachel was stirring. "Save your para-magic." She croaked. "I'll be alright." Her voice was weak with exhaustion.

Rinoa's brow furrowed as she knelt beside the gnarled woman. "You saved us." Her hands were hesitant as she slowly reached for the woman's hand.

Rachel, reviving slightly, snatched it away. "No, sorceress Heartilly, save your strength… you'll need it."

Rinoa's expression darkened a bit more. "I don't understand… who are you?"

The older sorceress coughed slightly as she pushed herself into a sitting position. "Please… please, I've changed so many things, it's a miracle I'm still here." She turned to Selphie

and Irvine with a beseeching look on her face. "I'm afraid… if I tell her anything else, I might disappear. I have the object of her power…" The sorceress's hand disappeared into the

folds of the shapeless robe she wore, it emerged a moment later—gnarled talons curled around a giant aqua gemstone. Deep within the Sapphire Dream, light danced and

sparkled—looking like nothing so much as a cloud of miniscule fairies waiting to be set free. The beautiful play of the gem's inner glow dimmed not at all in the bright morning sunlight.

"Please…" She held it out at arm's length, toward Rinoa—as if she couldn't stand to be close to the thing. "Please destroy it."

Rinoa drew back slightly from the proffered gem. "Why? What is it?"

"I can't tell you… please…" Rachel repeated, her arm—shaking with exhaustion—thrust the gemstone at Rinoa again. "…please, you must destroy it now!" With her other arm,

she gestured to the SeeDs. "Ask your friends."

Rinoa bit her lip as she looked up at her friends. "Selphie? Irvine?"

Selphie looked down at the withered form of the sorceress from the future. "Rachel, where's Quistis?" She was glad for Irvine's hand on her shoulder; backing her up.

The ancient woman began to cry. "I…" She seemed to be having trouble drawing breath. "I can't… t-tell you until this thing is gone!" She shook the enormous gemstone, but

refused to look at it. "I can't do it myself—I'm not strong… s-strong enough." Her narrow shoulders shook as she gasped. "Please! Please… I-I gave up everything… w-we all did, just

to… to d-destroy this thing! Please help me!" The tears shining in the old woman's eyes as she looked up betrayed her desperation.

Squall stiffened as Rinoa slowly reached out and retrieved the gem from the old woman's hand. "I… I don't know." She held the sparkling sapphire up to the sky, trying to peer

into the swirl of sparkles within. "You guys?" Standing, she looked back at the two SeeDs. "I'll do it if you think I should. Do you trust her?"

Irvine licked his lips nervously. "Uh… yeah." He felt Squall's gaze on him. "I guess."

Beside the Galbadian sharpshooter, Selphie closed her eyes and nodded. "Quistis believed her, Rinoa, and I think I do too."

The young sorceress looked to her knight. Squall?

The slightest frown creased his features. I'm sorry, Rinoa, I'm just as confused as you.

Sniffing, the old woman looked up at the sorceress and knight. "I-If it would help… I could tell you who's responsible for…everything that's been happening to you." She wiped

her eyes. "You were going to find out anyway." She swallowed. "It's NORG—the former owner of Balamb Garden. He's the one that's been possessing everyone. He's the one trying to

control everything."

"That bitch!" The man hissed under his breath as he lowered the directional audio antenna. The scowl on his face could have melted lead. "That does it! Are you ready?" He

turned to the robed figure lying beside him—flat against the highest deck on the spine running the length of Galbadia Garden's upper decks.

"I am." The figure rasped.

"No on double-crosses me, and lives." He growled. "You remember what to do?"

The figure was still. "I do."

The stolen body bared its teeth. "Alright. I want her to pay! Don't screw up!"

"I won't."

Rinoa closed her eyes. All this? All this for one man's ambition? She felt Squall's presence behind her. So much death, so much pain and loss. All because of Norg?

As her knight's gloved hand touched her shoulder, her eyes snapped open again. "Alright." She released the glowing sapphire and it hung in the air before her. "I'll do it." He's the one

responsible for all this… A strange tension seemed to be gathering, like electricity in the air before a lightning bolt. Rinoa gestured, and her magic-channeling array detached itself from

the old sorceress and flew to her shoulders.

Squall stood beside his sorceress, one fist clenched at his side, the other squeezing the hilt of his sword. That damned Shumi. His teeth ground together. We'll find him.

The uneasy air crackled with the sorceress's anger. Shifting patterns of color washed across the finely worked stone of her magical wings. She turned a pair of glowing amber eyes

upon the hunched old woman. "When I finish." A spectral echo dogged her words. "You will tell me where to find Norg."

Selphie's hair was standing on end—and not just from the energy of the gathering storm of sorcery. She had never seen Rinoa act this way before. The transformation the friendly,

upbeat girl had undergone sent chills racing down her spine. The sorceress seemed to radiate anger and power as she directed her attention to the hovering gemstone. Beside her, Squall

seemed dark and unapproachable—the forbidding knight of a mighty sorceress. She sneaked a worried glance at Irvine, noting the concerned expression on his face.

The sensation was strange to Rinoa; this stirring of her powers in anger. Before, when she had destroyed the sniper in Deling she had acted on instinct. When she had lifted the

Galbadian submarines from the ocean she had been acting out of desperation. But now… Now she could feel the way the primal powers boiled in tune with her rage—the same

energies that had formed the very world were resonating to her silent screams. But… But something held her back. Like smoldering embers stoked into flame, Rinoa could feel a

presence here fanning the flames of her anger, but—as she reached out to the sparkling sapphire with invisible fingers—she knew that it was not the gem that angered her so. Her face was

an iron mask to the outside world, but inwardly, she frowned. There was something wrong with the Sapphire Dream, she could feel it. Gently, her sorcery prodded the gem.

Squall's eyes watered as a bolt of purple lightning arced from his sorceress's fingertips to the hovering jewel.

Invisibly, Rinoa pursed her lips, she could still feel the fury burning at the back of her mind, but her curiosity was now aroused. Something inside the gem was calling out,

beckoning to her. She tapped it lightly with her magic.

Selphie and Irvine were forced to shield their eyes from the brilliant flash as magical energy burst from Rinoa's fingertips and exploded around the Sapphire Dream.

Now Rinoa was genuinely intrigued, what was that inside the gemstone? She bottled up her anger, sending tendrils of sorcery to surround the gem. Is there some way to open

it? Is it possible to see inside…? Her eyes were open and glowing, but Rinoa was no longer seeing through them. Instead, she held the giant sapphire in her mind's eye. Slowly, its

sparkling enigma seemed to dim. Oh no…wait… what are you? Where are you go— Darkness erupted from the gem.

Rinoa screamed as a wave of midnight detonated from the gemstone, engulfing her with a roar. Somewhere in the maelstrom of black she heard a clear note ringing as a bell as

Squall's blade struck the pulsing gem.

The tempered steel blade shattered against the jewel. Waves of darkness arced along its hilt, up Squall's arms, and into his mind. The nightmare scoured him of it all; guardian

forces, spells, junctions, everything. The world disappeared and the knight collapsed.

Instinctively, Rinoa tried to push the questing darkness from her mind with blazing white fire, but that too was swallowed.

Then, as abruptly as it had come, the darkness retreated, the night coalescing back into the Sapphire Nightmare. The last concentric wave of dark energy was sucked into the

gem, it cracked and dropped to the deck.

As Rinoa collapsed, her breath fled her body with a whisper. "Hyne."

…

The mist drifting between the dark columns of the stately oak trees seemed to glow faintly. The cool gray light filtering through the vapors gave the impression of twilight, though one could not have said whether it be morning or night. The ethereal fog flowed slowly over the forest mosses, directionless, yet purposeful. Tiny swirls of clear air trailed the silent trees as the river of moist air passed between them—like water between the pillars of ancient wooden bridges.

"Rinoa… Rinoa, come here, child." The mist rippled and broke around the sorceress as she sat upright under the cool dim shadows of the trees.

One hand absently brushed a few dark hairs from her face as Rinoa slowly pushed herself to her feet. "…Edea?" Her hand, finished with her hair, remained at her temple. What is this place? What happened? Rinoa frowned as she tried to concentrate. Hadn't she just been doing something important? She could feel the sensation of… …what? What was I doing? Why am I here? The sorceress found herself staring at the slow progression of the thin layer of fog flowing only inches from the ground. The ripples and eddies caused by the silent blue ferns of the forest floor were hypnotizing. The sense of urgency, the sense that she was supposed to be doing something important slowly dimmed.

"Come to me, Rinoa." The quiet cadence of the former sorceress's voice carried through the misty air.

Something wasn't right about this. Something about Edea, there was a reason she couldn't be here, but the damp earthy smell of the forest gently eased the worry from Rinoa's mind. She took a step forward. The spongy carpet of moss beneath her feet silenced her footfall.

Rinoa didn't know where she was headed, but something told her she would reach her destination no matter which way she traveled. As she walked, Edea Kramer's voice continued to talk to her.

"Oh, dear child, I am so sorry. I never knew what a burden my powers would be to you." The woman's tone was quiet and soothing. Rinoa closed her eyes as she continued forward. "I thought they were only a curse to myself. I thought that, to you, sorcery would be a gift, a wonderful opportunity—as it once was to me." Rinoa wanted to speak, to let Edea know that it was okay—for she felt that everything was okay now—but she continued on in silence. "I was mistaken, child. Please forgive me. Now I see that our powers—wonderful as they may seem at first—are, in truth, a terrible burden."

Rinoa's eyes opened. She had arrived. Before her, in a round clearing so small that the leaves of the surrounding trees still maintained a dark canopy against the dim light above, stood twelve stone markers. The twelve blocks of weathered rock were arranged in a circle around a slender black marble pedestal, at the top of which rested a glowing aqua gemstone. A twinge of recognition jotted across Rinoa's mind like distant lightning before vanishing. A wide crack in the otherwise perfect sapphire glowed a sparkling blue and pulsed in time with the sound of Edea's voice.

"But our burden—heavy as it is, Rinoa—can be lifted from us, if we wish." Rinoa felt a sparkle of hope almost as bright as the lights dancing in the depths of the marred gem. Something about that sounds so good… but why? What was it that Edea was saying? The tiniest frown creased the young sorceress's brow. Something was keeping her from concentrating, something in the tone of Edea's voice—or was it in the swirling patterns of light within that beautifully familiar gem. "Rinoa, child, do you want your burden taken from you?"

"With all my heart." ? Rinoa's hand brushed her lips. Did I just say that? "How can I be free, Edea?" …?

"By the grace of our God, my child, by the grace of the great Hyne." Was it Rinoa's imagination, or were the sparkles from the jewel leaving the confines of their sapphire cage? Her vision blurred and the very air seemed to shimmer.

Rinoa blinked. "Edea?" She shook her head, trying to draw a clear, deep breath, but something more than moist air filled her lungs, slowing her pulse, clouding her mind. "Edea…? But you can't be here… you're…" The sorceress fought the fuzzy shimmers behind her eyes.

"Please, Rinoa… you don't have to worry any more. Just let yourself go. Let the power of Hyne make everything alright." The voice was soothing. It filled Rinoa's ears and smoothed her fears.

And yet… Wait! Suddenly, Rinoa knew. "Edea! You can't be here! You're… you're dead." The sorceress found herself standing directly before the sapphire, her hand inches from its surface. She gasped, drawing her hand away and stepping back from the gem. "What…?" Tiny sparkles surrounded her, like twinkling stars.

The light inside the cracked jewel pulsed again, this time with a new voice. "Please… mother..." Rinoa took a second step back—this time in shock—as she recognized the speaker. A seeming eternity ago she had heard her, buried within the tones of the sorceress Edea's speech in her room on the upper floors of the presidential mansion in Deling, and again, hidden within the folds of Ultimecia's strange words so many years in the future. It was the voice of her daughter. "…it doesn't have to be this way. Things don't have to turn out the way they will. Just please, please…" The voice sounded as if its owner were near tears. "…let Hyne set things right."

Was her vision dimming? Had the sky grown darker? Everything was confused, her surroundings impossible to make out. The memory of what had happened to Edea had cleared her mind for a brief second, but now it was all gone again. Are they right? Are they even who they say they are? Have they even said who they are? What's going on? Rinoa pressed her palms to the sides of her face as she shook her head—actually, she twisted her entire upper body back and forth. What should I do? What can I do?

The clearing had not grown darker, rather, the blues and grays had vanished. A black stream of tainted air now swept around the stone markers. The bloody red glow of a forest burning fell from the holes in the canopy of leaves overhead. "Enough of this, foolish sorceress!" Rinoa knew the dark, ragged voice was that of the Estharian sorceress, Adel. "Do you want to be sealed by frightened idiots, as I was? Do you want to know how I have existed for the past seventeen years?" Though her feet were firmly planted on the ground, Rinoa felt as if she were plunging down a deep hole as icy coils of a horrible sensation wrapped themselves around her chest. "Do you want everyone to hate and fear you as they did me, as they did Edea, as they will, your daughter?"

Rinoa wanted to scream, but her throat was frozen. The world was spinning like a carnival ride gone mad. The twinkling stars were now burning buzzing embers of malevolent fairies. They surrounded her, compelling her toward the glowing sapphire. Underfoot, the ground trembled and the roaring of great winds filled the air.

The new voice was even more horrible than that of the evil Estharian sorceress. If the screams a thousand hearts make when true love is lost could be captured for a thousand years, and the very noise wrung from the air and rendered down into black liquid torment, the voice now speaking would be the sound of that terrible brew as it lay boiling in the fires of hell.

"Sorceress… my descendant," The last word was nearly a curse, but even the most wondrous words would be the vilest of curses if spoken by this tongue. "Your time has come and gone." The sorceress wanted to cover her ears, but her hands remained pressed to her face—too frightened to move. "My time is now." Rinoa finally did scream, but the sound of it was lost in the howling fury of the bloody motes filling the air around her. She turned to run, but only stumbled into one of the dark stone markers.

As she caught herself up against it, the sorceress's fingers pressed into the smooth channels of an engraving hewn out of the rock. She glimpsed the symbol a moment before the shock hit her—carved into the cool rock was the outline of a lion's head.

A single tear fell from his wide-open eyes. That slight, gentle smile graced the smooth features of his face. He fidgeted and frowned as she played with his stiff and uncomfortable collar. A spatter of his blood fell to the ground under the knight's black blade. A shock of brown hair and twin green orbs greeted her as the light revealed the space suit's occupant.

His arms wrapped her in an embrace that stopped time forever.

The fury of the storm could not touch her, it could not disturb her, she was safe, she was not alone, she was loved.

Rinoa stood, a hint of the stone's coolness fading from her palm. She raised a hand to the whirling maelstrom and spoke a single word in reply to its howls: "No." Then she vanished.

…

Blinded, silenced, and disoriented, Selphie held perfectly still. The spells tugging at her mind screamed at her to attack something, to flail out before she was struck, but experience told her to wait for the magic to wear off lest she hurt herself or her friends in her confusion. It took every ounce of discipline she had to wait quietly in the empty darkness after witnessing Squall and Rinoa struck down, but she knew she must. Her Ensuna spell flashed only milliseconds after the silence wore off.

Rachel was standing over Rinoa's still form, screaming. "You insolent little bitch! How dare you refuse your powers to our god!" She raised a hand surrounded by glowing magic, preparing to cast it down on the helpless sorceress.

"Rachel! NO!" The striking bar of Selphie's Crescent Wish was in the air before the shout left her lips, it caught the ancient sorceress a mighty blow to the back of the head, yet she barely staggered at all. Selphie gasped as the woman turned to face her, for the wrinkled old sorceress was changing before her very eyes.

"What the hell?" Irvine had recovered seconds after the other SeeD, and was now staring dumbfounded at the transforming woman.

The sorceress's cracked and dirty fingernails smoothed and elongated, coloring into the deep red of blood. The knobs on her knuckles and liver spots on her skin vanished to be replaced by smooth, perfect flesh. The sorceress's permanent hunch disappeared as she straightened to a height impossible for the old woman they had known as Rachel. Her drab robes fuzzed to vapor, revealing a long dress darker than the starless night. Her now ruby lips and lilac eyes blurred as she shook the old woman's short, chopped gray hair out until it dropped to her waist, the gray paling to pure white.

Selphie might have shifted her attack to the tall sharpshooter next to her after he whistled appreciatively had he not squeezed the trigger of the Exeter, sending a blazing round of Pulse ammo straight to the sorceress's heart. The shot was stopped cold by an iridescent wall of black magic that suddenly appeared around the two sorceresses and knight. "Begone, pests!" She flicked one dark-nailed finger at them, and an invisible force sent the two SeeDs flying. Irvine struck the railing around the edge of the upper deck with a "Whoof." He repeated himself a moment later as Selphie's motion was arrested by his stomach.

The transformed sorceress dropped the arm she had been holding over Rinoa, and the feathers of a reviving spell drifted down from thin air. "Get up! Face your maker!" Her voice had transfigured as well, but it's new ivory chime still dripped malice.

The gap had narrowed, but it was still a long, long way across. Zell grimaced as he surveyed the stretch of water separating the two disabled gardens. Come on, Zell. You're not gonna chicken out now. This is your big chance to save the day!

Standing half out of the hatch to the uppermost crawlspace in Balamb Garden, Zell was treated to a view unlike anything he had ever seen before—or was likely to see again. Before him, a giant spine-like support beam stretched from B-Garden's upper decks, down to the garden's stern. Near the rear of the floating academy, the support's surface curved skyward before terminating abruptly, dozens of feet above the confused chop of the ocean surface. Beyond that, Galbadia Garden rested—quite a bit lower in the water than its Balamb counterpart. A huge gash had been carved into the red garden's sweeping decks, and its sides were dented and streaked with the paint from the blue garden's hull. Further out to sea, the towering cloud from the strange explosion was slowly beginning to disperse to the south on the freshening breeze.

Zell's left hand was wrapped tightly around the rail of his liberated T-Board as it hummed quietly beside him. Beneath the padded armor of his gauntlet, the SeeD could feel his palms sweating. Even with Float, even with the northerly breeze, even with the height difference between the two gardens, he had no confidence that his plan would be anything more than very creative suicide—as Iris had pronounced it upon hearing his scheme.

Speaking of Iris… Zell gazed downward—towards the Quad. An antlike figure was waving at him. I'm sorry Iris. Man! What a bunch of interruptions! It had not been the type of reunion Zell had planned upon. Giant explosions, gales, tidal waves, and now this! Zell frowned. He couldn't be sure, but he thought the tiny figure below might have just blown him a good-luck kiss. He flushed slightly—just in case. But I can't sit this one out. Those guys need me! Letting the T-Board drop to the smooth surface of the support beam, the blond mercenary grinned as he shrugged, adjusting the straps holding the large case to his back. Besides, I've always wanted to try this!

Under the influence of the reviving spell, Rinoa returned from the nightmarish world. "Squall!" She had barely gained her feet before she was at the side of the motionless knight. To her relief, his eyes opened at the touch of her hand on his. The slightest hint of a smile brushed his lips at the sight of his sorceress. It was a smile that belonged somewhere else, long from now and far from here and so was destined to vanish as reality quickly intruded, darkening Squall's expression as his eyes shifted from those of his love to the albino-haired witch.

At that moment the tall sorceress's mouth was open as she drew breath to speak, Selphie and Irvine were untangling from where the spell had thrown them and Rinoa was kneeling with her back to the other sorceress. All froze at the sound of whistling air and a rather peculiar battle cry.

"AIEEEEEEE!!!" The transformed sorceress glanced up just in time to see the underside of a T-Board fill her sky. At the last possible instant, she raised a hand.

Zell felt his uncontrollable plummet abruptly cease as a mysterious force lofted him skyward. A moment later, he was rolling across the deck of Galbadia Garden, his T-Board careening over the edge of the academy and into the water below. Only a flying tackle from the two other SeeDs prevented Zell from following it.

The chiming of the tall sorceress's voice was marred with discordant anger as she turned to face the three SeeDs. "Fools! Idiots!" Her eyes flashed. "You defy me?! You are nothing!"

The friends had untangled themselves and now stood to face the angry witch. Though her weapon was poised for action, Selphie tried one last time to reason with the sorceress. "Rachel, I don't understand… why are you doing this?!"

The woman's white hair glinted in the dim sunlight as she threw her head back. Her laugh was completely devoid of humor. "I am the Sorceress Sera. I am Hyne's Right Hand." She brought a stare colder than the arctic night to bear on Selphie. "You have no right to question my motives."

Suddenly, the brunette SeeD found herself muted once again. She turned to Irvine and gestured toward her mouth.

Totally ignoring the sorceress standing before him, the sharpshooter grinned and scratched his head. "Something wrong, darlin'?"

Selphie's eyes blazed and she cocked her wrist, preparing to fling the Crescent Wish at her easygoing beau.

"Yikes!" Irvine saved himself by quickly casting Ensuna on the perky mercenary. "Uh, I didn't know she had muted ya, babe. Honest!"

From behind raised fists, Zell glanced over his shoulder at the two SeeDs. Come on, guys! Be serious! This witch means business! He lowered his guard just long enough to cast Triple on himself.

Selphie had commenced kicking at Irvine's ankles even while casting reflect spells on the both of them. "You knew damned well what she had done, you big jerk! Why, if she wasn't—" Her words were cut off in mid-sentence.

"Silence!" Sera shouted, as a wave of black sorcery erupted from her hands, burning away the protective magic around the SeeDs and knocking them to the ground. "Foul creatures! You are not fit to speak in Hyne's presence!"

Zell was back on his feet almost immediately. "Oh man! That does it! One beat-down for another power-mad sorceress coming right up!"

"Zell, hold on a sec!" Selphie brushed herself off before turning to the sorceress. "Sera, Rachel, whoever you are; before we take you down—like we've done to every other sorceress who ever challenged SeeD—tell me: was all that stuff about the future—about SeeD and Ultimecia—was it all just a load of crap or what?"

Rather than answer, the tall sorceress's head had bowed. Her hair had fallen over her face, hiding it from view. Above, the morning sky had turned dark and stormy; green-and-purple clouds now roiled overhead. The damaged supports of Galbadia garden groaned as the massive structure shifted under the rolling of the gray, oily swell that had appeared on the surface of the ocean. Slowly, Sera's black stiletto heels left the quivering tiles as she rose into the air. Behind her, the giant cracked Sapphire mimicked her powers of levitation.

"Oooh." Irvine waved the fingers of his left hand before his eyes in mock-fright before lowering the Exeter and turning to Selphie. "Don't think she's gonna tell us, hon." He faced the levitating sorceress. "So long, pardner." He tipped his hat as he began to fade away. Selphie grinned maliciously and stuck out her tongue as she too began to vanish before the summoning of the Guardian Force. Zell managed to make an obscene gesture before he disappeared from view.

High above the sorceress Sera, the swirling clouds parted around the gigantic bulk of the Guardian Force. The very air seemed to throb as Eden slowly descended from the sky. From under her bleached veil, glowing ruby slits appeared between Sera's eyelids. The slits widened and her hair flew back as she raised her face to the descending GF.

The scream was not the sorceress's own. The deep crack in the Sapphire Nightmare flashed with the sound of the creator of the planet and Hyne's terrible voice rang out across the sky.

Like a Christmas tree ornament of blown crystal, Eden shattered. Sparkling in the dull storm light, billions upon billions of shards of stained glass rained from the sky as the Guardian Force exploded in a brilliant flare of blue light.

Wrenched back into this world, Selphie, Irvine, and Zell stumbled and fell to the ground as the cold emptiness in their minds where the Guardians had once resided overwhelmed them. Zell felt like he was drowning in a sea of ice water. Shock after shock of darkness washed over him as he felt the magic torn from his mind, severing junctions, blasting away all the crutches the SeeDs relied upon to ensure that they remained the world's most powerful warriors.

"Your insolence has gone on long enough." Hyne's voice, no longer the shriek that had demolished the Guardian Force but still painful to the ear, burst from the sorceress's lips. A howling whirlwind of Unholy magic roared around her upraised hand, her glowing pupil-less red eyes burning into the souls of the fallen SeeDs. "Now…" The cyclone of darkness seemed to reach hungrily for the SeeDs. "…die."

For a moment, the white-haired sorceress seemed to hang, transfixed in the beam of light, her dark dress and black magic standing out in sharp relief against the nova-like brilliance. Then, with an almost inaudible cry, the darkness was extinguished and she vanished in the river of energy.

Rinoa lowered her arm and the light faded to bright green afterimages projected on the insides of everyone's eyelids. "Leave my friends alone."

The sorceress Sera had fallen to one knee. As a statue she knelt; frozen to the ground, one hand on the tiles beneath her, a cascade of white again hiding her face.

Lines of resolution stood sharply against her cheeks as Rinoa took a step toward the collapsed form of the sorceress. "You're the one behind everything." Again, the raven-haired sorceress's voice carried a stern spectral echo. Again, she felt the anger boiling deep within her being. This time, there was nothing to restrain it. "You hid it from me so well, but I know what this is all about now." My God… what this witch was trying to do… Her chest tightened as a ghost of what she had felt when confronted with the creator of the world brushed across her skin. There were no words to describe the nature of Hyne. In that brief, brief instant she had been exposed to the horrific entity, she had tasted the mind of a demon, she had witnessed a consciousness with thoughts so black as to make all the love and compassion that ever existed meaningless. Even as she felt her powers of sorcery stir, she was repulsed by their connection to this being of darkest hate. No! Impossible that I am anything like that… thing! She gritted her teeth. Impossible!

Overhead, the dark low clouds boiled madly, swirling in chaotic patterns. The sky seemed to split apart as a jagged fork of purple lightning sundered the vault. The black sea beat against the sides of the red garden in white-capped frenzy. The rising gale caused Rinoa's dark locks to whip about her face as an angry amber glow encircled her palms. "It won't work, Sera." Rinoa shook her head. "Hyne will never be released. I am not strong enough to break her sapphire prison, and neither are you!"

…

Balamb Garden was still drifting away from its Galbadian counterpart and the suddenly-choppy ocean wasn't making things any better.

"That's it! Console is showing green, hold it there!" Garden pilot, Higinio Katsaros, released the button on the microphone duct-taped to the control rod and turned to address Xu. "We're ready to give it a try, Sir."

The senior SeeD officer and De Facto garden commander tore her eyes away from the spectacle of the storm raging over Galbadia Garden long enough to nod to the Class-A SeeD. "Alright. Take it very slow, we have no idea what condition the drive system is in." Didn't need to say that… Higinio's been working with the techs downstairs ever since we had the burnout. He knows how to handle this. She thought about apologizing but then bit down on her lip. Come on, Girl! Concentrate!

The SeeD commander started slightly as the student manning the public address system spoke. "Orders for the boarding crews, Sir?"

Lances of discolored lightning danced across the water separating the two gardens and the wind howled around roughly-caulked corners of the observation window. Xu's lips twisted slightly into a disapproving grimace. "Keep them inside until we're within range of the grappling cannon."

"And the transports, Sir?" The student's hand hovered over the transmitter. A few hydrofoils still had working controls.

Xu shook her head. "Keep them in the garage on standby. It's too rough—I won't risk an assault boat capsizing." She turned her eyes back to the gathering storm, making a conscious effort to keep her hands motionless at her sides. If only Cid… …I have no idea how to handle this!

…

The leather of Squall's gloves creaked quietly as he flexed his empty hands. He felt naked useless, standing, unarmed, beside his sorceress. Hot and cold charges seemed to race across his muscles as he felt Rinoa's anger spilling over to himself. He wasn't quite sure what was occurring between the two sorceresses but the rage crackling between the white tips of his love's wings was indication enough of the enemy present.

The yellow glow from Rinoa's hands illuminated Sera's haughty sneer as she slowly stood. Behind her, the knotted violet ropes of waterspouts danced devilishly across the ocean. She brushed a strand of hair from her face as she spoke. "You are so very blind, little sorceress. It is a pity your eyes will never have a chance to be opened."

Squall felt his teeth begin to grind, but he was distracted by a shout.

"Squall! Catch!" Zell had been the first to recover—as much as one could after the terrible shock of having one's mind stripped clean of magic and guardian forces. The shocking loss had, however, caused him to remember something rather important. After pushing himself to his feet, he had staggered—through the rising gale—to the long black case he had carried across the gap between gardens.

Lucky this didn't fall in the drink. Goosebumps had covered Zell's arms as he snapped open the catches and lifted the lid—revealing the felt-lined interior. Without his strength junctions, the weapon had seemed strangely heavy as he pulled it from the case, the oily smell of the greased and cleaned chambers and barrel tugged away by the wind before it could reach the SeeD's nostrils. The blade had glinted in the dull stormy light as the blond SeeD swung it sidelong in an arc across his body. With a warning shout, Zell released his hold on the revolver handle.

Squall caught the spinning gunblade with practiced ease, his fingers sliding around the molded grip even as he thumbed off the safety catch. He swung the training weapon in two experimental slashes before settling on the balls of his feet beside his sorceress, holding the weapon, blade facing the pale-haired woman, in a two-handed grip.

Rinoa had spared Squall a sidelong glance, her pupils appearing in the amber orbs for a second, but her lips remained set in a stern line. "Ready?"

Squall's eyes narrowed. "Ready."

The young sorceress turned back to Sera. "Whatever you were planning, you failed." Underfoot, the entire garden seemed to be vibrating. Tiles shaken loose in the collision chattered around the ragged edges of the great gash in the garden's upper decks. "You've killed thousands of people—ruined so many lives—for nothing." Rinoa's words might have been sorrowful, but her voice was not, rather it still shook with anger. "It's over. It ends here." The air was cooling rapidly. Frost crept across the deck beneath the dark-haired sorceress's feet even as the fire she held in her hands burned bright. "You'll never hurt anyone ever again."

Sera laughed, her voice her own once again. "You are mistaken, little girl." She shook her head, raising one long-nailed finger to her lips. "It does not end here. It does not end now." Cheeks dusted with just the lightest hint of blush puffed slightly as she exhaled across her fingertips. As faces are revealed when dust flies from a photograph, so too did the small red ruby appear out of thin air—hovering inches above the sorceress's fingertip. "But you are correct about one thing." Sera raised her right hand to the gem. "I won't hurt anyone…" She twisted the air around the ruby. "You will."

Squall saw it a moment before it happened. He saw the way the ruby sparkled under Sera's flashing eyes; saw the way the identical gemstone set into his sorceress's wings twinkled; saw the confusion in her eyes as she turned toward him; saw himself shift the gunblade aside, baring his chest to the fiery sorcery crackling at her fingertips; saw the horrified recognition in Rinoa's eyes as Sera controlled her like a marionette.

It happened in an instant "No…!" but there was still time for a tear to fall from Rinoa's eye.

If there was time for her tear, there was time for his smile. I love you. Is what it said.

It didn't really happen, of course. The universe isn't this cruel. No, it couldn't happen. The burning sorcery didn't really tear from her fingers and explode against him. He didn't really vanish in the searing fire meant for the sorceress Sera. I'm going to wake up soon. I'll be lying beside him and he'll already be awake with that little smile on his face… Someone wasn't really screaming his name; Irvine, Selphie, and Zell weren't really charging the white-haired sorceress. She wasn't even real. Rinoa wasn't whirled about like a puppet on a string to unleash another devastating spell on her friends. No, I'm going to wake up in a moment and he'll be asking me what I was dreaming. I'll tell him it was just something silly that could never happen, then he'll frown, he'll say: 'Rinoa, what was it?' because he knows that this isn't just another silly nightmare, and he'll see how afraid I am that it could be real… and, oh god, it can't be real… it's not real! It's not! IT'S NOT! IT'S NOT! Oh god, Squall!!

"Open your eyes, Sorceress!" She had no choice. Sera was several feet away, but—at the same time—she was inside Rinoa. "I want you to see what you are doing." The tall sorceress shook her head. "You cared for these fools so much… you were so polluted by them… you need to see, you need to know—before you die—just how instrumental you were in ridding the world of all their impurity."

Rinoa didn't know—didn't care—if she was standing or sitting. She tried not to see the bodies, but a cruel twist of Sera's hand forced her to face their fallen forms.

"You could have been a deity, child. You could have been servant only to the one true God." Sera shook her head. "You could have saved anyone you pleased, but now… now you will kill them. You will kill them all."

Rinoa said nothing. She couldn't, she couldn't even blink.

The dark sorceress tapped her lips with a finger. "You are right; you aren't strong enough to free Hyne… none of us are… yet." She tilted her head to the side. "But, did you ever wonder how it was that you saved your silly little knight from the time compression?" Sera's smile was not at all pleasant. "Oh yes, I know about that. Why do you think I chose you, sorceress? Hyne has allowed me to live for a thousand years, waiting. I could wait a thousand more, if need be." She shook her finger. "But… but… you have provided the answer well ahead of its time." She paused as if to reflect on her words. "I am a sorceress of darkness and death, Adel was a sorceress of hell and poison, Edea was a sorceress of light and ice, and you… you are a sorceress of heaven and time." Her fingers traced glowing characters in the air around the ruby she held. "With your power, I shall find a time with sorceress strong enough to break our God's prison!" She paused only a second. "And now, child, the power Hyne has granted you will serve her once again!"

…

"Whaaat…?!" SeeD Cadet Yvonne Hovo snapped as she pulled her head out from under the wind proofed cowling thrown over the mobile grappling cannon's controls. "Can't you see that I'm busy…?" In the space of one second, she took in the strobing green light washing over the Balamb Garden from a source somewhere on the decks of Galbadia Garden, the large nasty-looking pike-like weapon, and the face of Cid Kramer—headmaster of her SeeD academy. He did not look happy. "…uh, Sir." She amended belatedly.

His response was not what she expected. "Are we in range?" His voice seemed strained almost to the breaking point.

Yvonne gulped. "Uh, barely, Sir." Without thinking, she began to protest as the headmaster shoved her aside, reaching for the controls of the boarding device. "But, headmaster, you can't seriously be thinking of crossing… sir, the wind!"

Xu's head snapped around at the dull whumping sound. "What? I didn't give the order to board the garden! Which station is that?"

The student manning the communications console held one hand over his microphone—listening to the voice on the other end of the closed-circuit line as he spoke. "Four, mam, er, Sir." He stuttered. "They say that headmaster Kramer just went over the side!"

"What!?" Xu was dumbfounded.

"Sir?" Higinio's hand hovered over the drive controls.

Xu waved her hand. "Hold position! Hold position! We can't risk snapping the line!" She turned back to the student. "Tell me when they report he's cleared, and for Hyne's sake, tell them not to send anyone else over!" Oh, god, headmaster, what are you doing!?

…

The glass in Seifer's hand shattered under the pressure of his suddenly-rigid fingers. He didn't notice, nor did he notice the blood seeping from under his nails as his fists balled. Could it be…?

…

Rinoa could not scream. Though it felt like it was her core being ripped asunder along with the fabric of time, she could not make a noise as the sorcery being torn from her forced the brilliant green rift—hanging in midair before her—wider. As she had on the back of the Naso, she could feel the magic sapping her strength, but now it was not her decision to supplant her waning magical powers with her own life-force, but that of the sorceress with eyes of frozen amethyst. At long, long last—when she was certain she had no more strength to give, compelled or otherwise, Sera placed her palm flat against the ruby and the flow of sorcery stopped. If she could have, Rinoa would have undoubtedly collapsed. Instead, she was held upright by cruel magical talons.

"Now, sorceress, before I depart for my own brave new world, I shall send you on to the next one as well." Sera laughed, grasping the ruby and holding it high. In tandem with the motions of the china-haired sorceress, Rinoa felt her right arm dragged skyward. "They're not dead… not yet." Sera had stepped up behind her and was motioning to the fallen forms of Squall, Selphie, Irvine and Zell. "Know that you killed them, sorceress Rinoa." She hissed. "Know that, the moment you stepped out of the sorceress memorial, you killed everyone and everything you've ever loved."

Rinoa hung, feet dangling a few inches above the ground ,exhausted tears staining her cheeks. I'm so, so sorry, everyone. I didn't mean to let you down. She knew that the white flames building at her fingertips would extinguish her life just as surely as they would Irvine's, Selphie's, Zell's, and her love's. For a moment, that knowing smile flashed before her eyes, a bittersweet hallucination. Squall… She felt her hand begin to descend.

A discordant chime split the air accompanied by a buzzing whine as the bullet struck the ruby from Sera's upraised hand. The jewel fell to the cracked and blackened tiles with the sound of clinking wineglasses. Spinning and skittering across the slick surface, it paused on the lip deck before plummeting into the dark ocean. Rinoa fell bonelessly to the ground, the magic fading from her fingertips.

Dahyte blinked away the film that had dried over her eyes as she chambered a second round. Nestling the rifle between the spiky scales beginning to take over her forearm and the blotchy dying skin that still remained, she took careful aim. A swollen tongue traveled across cracked and dried lips. "What are friends for?" A painful half-breath later, the weapon barked and kicked against the tough plates that now covered her shoulders.

The second bullet ricocheted off of thin air, inches from Sera's upraised finger. "So many pests!" A lance of midnight leapt from her finger and exploded into black void as it reached the spot from which the firing had come. Reaching out with her left arm, she drew an oval in the air. Within the invisible edges of her tracings, the air began to ripple and shimmer. "Knight, to me! I have need of you!"

Every muscle ached, no, that wasn't right, Zell thought. Every muscle screamed. It felt as if he had just been thrown into a running dryer filled with bowling balls and thumbtacks. It even hurt to open his eyes. The green light that stabbed into his retinas was like a laser beam, burning into his aching head. Still, he forced his eyelids open wider, ignoring the pain as he forced himself up onto one arm. The scene before him was terrible to behold. Scant feet away, the silver blade of Squall's weapon canted at an angle to where its tip had lodged in the deck, beside it, the knight's form lay quiescent, arms flung wide by the force of the explosive sorcery that had ravaged him. His face was turned from Zell.

Just beyond the motionless knight, Rinoa seemed nothing but a small blue pile of fabric as she lay, curled where she had fallen. Even as Zell slid one twinging arm beneath him—preparing for an attempt at gaining his feet, he saw the young sorceress stir. It was not Rinoa's motion that captivated his attention, however, but rather the long, black blade that slipped from the second distortion in space Sera had created. The dark weapon was followed through the porthole by the tattered hem of a cream-colored trench coat, a black glove, the symbol of the fire cross, and a pair of cruel blue eyes as Seifer emerged from thin air.

Sera allowed a small smile to creep across her lips as she watched the foolish young sorceress crawl to the side of her fallen knight. She delighted in the look of fear in Rinoa's eyes as she slowly proclaimed her death sentence. "Now, my knight. Finish them." Yes, sorceress. Now you understand how I have played you from the beginning. Now you see how the final piece of this grand puzzle I have created falls into place. Her eyes narrowed and her smile widened. Rinoa shrank back as the knight turned to face the dark-haired sorceress, gunblade dipping toward the ground in preparation for the final slash. "You were always my pawn, sorceress. Mine and Hyne's."

Seifer was a coiled spring, the fire burning in his eyes that of a man possessed by his sorceress's power. For only the briefest instant, his eyes might have flickered to the glowing rift in time that hovered in the air—scant meters from where he stood. Rinoa turned away, closing her eyes, her body hunched protectively over that of her knight. Holding him to her one last time, she waited for the final blow.

A whistling scream cut the air as the black gunblade sang with the wind of its passage, then the silence of the world holding its breath.

Sera's eyes widened, her ruby lips parted, but no sound issued from between her perfect teeth. She was frozen in time, staring down at the black blade piercing her heart. Down an endless trail of midnight steel, two frozen blue eyes flashed with unquenchable fury. "I was… never… your knight." Hyperion's thunder shattered the silence as Seifer pulled the trigger.

Chapter 12