A tall construction, metal and light, connects the sky and the sea. One step closer to the Divine. But the bridge, metal and dark, tells of nothing but separation.

"It'll be fine, right?" Tears glister in the boy's eyes.

"I'm sorry… This was the first lie I ever told you." Tears glister in the girl's eyes also.

A new face, twisted, broken. "Poppy made promise."

As the bridge explodes into metal shrapnel, the abyss stretches to infinity.

"Mythra!"

"The first lie—" The moment ebbs and floods, turning and returning tirelessly. "—the first lie I ever told you."

"It'll be fine. Fine – come back, right?"

"You'll be fine… without me now."

The images whirled and blurred into one another, they collapsed into a painful kaleidoscope, and Shulk awoke.

He couldn't breathe. Cold sweat drenched his shirt, the metal so cold around him, his very core pulsated red against the cold and snapped in two. For a moment, he didn't know where he was, he still felt the abyss yawn underneath the metal bridge that separated a boy and a girl he didn't know. A scream died in his throat, replaced by the rattle of his breath, uneven but alive. Shulk clawed his hands into his shirt and curled into a ball in a desperate attempt to combat the darkness lurking in that abyss.

But the abyss only existed in his visions.

Little by little, the panic subsided. The rocky ground under him provided stability, real stability, and Shulk relearned to breathe. Then he forced his eyes open.

The campfire had shrunken to embers and crackled faintly. Despite this, uncounted light sources bathed Shulk's surroundings in a soft glow. Not the stars created this phenomenon; they hid behind a veil of clouds. No, the strange glow was the making of ether.

The first halt to recharge the Havre's circuits after the Fallen Arm had brought Shulk here, onto this peculiar island. The piece of rock had floated amidst the waves, far beyond the remains of the Mechonis. During daytime, the island had seemed unremarkable. Shulk had barely found a single plant to add to his Collectopaedia. Little more than a handful of stone pillars populated the land and protruded from the ground like birthday candles. At night, however, the candles came alight. Apart from a thin outer layer of chalk, the pillars consisted from head to toe of ether crystals. Some stretched a hundred meters into the deep indigo sky, and each emitted a glow of different colour. Icy blue neighboured fiery red, and the hues from green and orange crystal deposits mingled to create entirely new shades. They were spires of light and colour, never before seen by Homs eyes.

And in the midst of this unparalleled phenomenon, Shulk's racing heart calmed.

Half a meter away, Nene snuggled into Shulk's spare pullover and snored. Her pigtails bounced a little with each breath. On the other side of the campfire, Dunban leaned against a rock in the same position in which Shulk had last seen him. But the crystal light reflecting in his eyes gave away that he wasn't asleep.

"No wonder you are in such lousy condition," Dunban said. "I assume these dreams keep you awake often?"

Shulk sat upright but didn't respond.

Dunban's harsh tone softened. "Is it about what happened on that day?"

In search for warmth, Shulk edged closer to the campfire. The voices of two people he didn't know echoed in his head.

"Why did you leave back then?" Shulk asked. The words came out trembling. "Why did you never come back?"

Dunban flexed the damaged fingers of his right hand. "It was for the best."

"The best for whom? This life, this solitary fight, it can't be what you really want. Otherwise you wouldn't have left the Fallen Arm with us."

"If you already know the answer, why are you asking?"

"I have to understand. There's so much I see and so little I comprehend…"

"It was for the best," Dunban repeated. "You could handle everything, you were fine without me."

"That's not a reason. It's an excuse to run."

"And what is it you're doing? I couldn't bear the sight of it all anymore, of Colony 9 and of every corner that reminded me of her. I had mourned her death one time, and I wasn't ready to do it again."

"But we needed you! You were supposed to be there and encourage us like you always did. Instead, we didn't just lose Fiora. We lost you as well."

Dunban looked sideways. "Maybe that's true. But if that's how you feel, I all the more don't understand why you are repeating my mistake. Why leave Colony 9, Alcamoth, your family? And why now? Shulk, if it's still guilt that drove you away, you need to abandon this folly, right now. You didn't fail her any more than I did…"

"No one's holding you responsible!" Shulk said louder than necessary.

"Is that so? I looked after her since our parents died. It was the same with you and Reyn, you three idiots always found this or that trouble to stumble into. All I could do was play the part of the adult all of you needed. I won't deny, it was hard. Sometimes it was hell. I thought you would never learn, that your recklessness would one day lead you towards a danger I couldn't protect you from. But somehow you would always stand up again after falling. You grew up, and you learned. I was incredibly proud of you, and that was what kept me going. I will never stop feeling responsible for you three."

"But there was nothing you could have done to save her." Shulk fidgeted his hands. "Nothing could have prevented that future…"

"Even so, that's the inescapable burden of a brother and a parent. So don't ask me again why I want you to return to Alcamoth."

Shulk stared at the horizon. There in the far distance, beyond the ether spirals, a hint of silver promised a new dawn. Soon the glow from the ether crystals would fade, hide itself in waiting, and come alive anew when the next night enveloped the island. But even this treasure trove of ether wouldn't save the Shoulder. This barren piece of rock in this god-less world wasn't made to sustain people.

"I can't go back," Shulk said. "Not yet."

"Because you have nightmares no one else understands?" Dunban shook his head. "Whatever it is that keeps you awake, there are people back home who will listen and help you. Don't make the same mistake I did and let it consume you from the inside. I thought you had learned to open up to others about what's on your mind. Was I wrong?"

Shulk dug his nails into the back of his palm. Dunban deserved the truth. More importantly, Shulk wanted him to understand. Maybe then things could go back to how they used to be. At least between the two of them. But could anyone understand the pain of losing a stranger? Could anyone relate to the invisible force that dragged Shulk forward, towards that future and a metal bridge on the edge of doom?

Was it not worth the try regardless?

"It's not nightmares," Shulk said. "I'm having visions."

Dunban tensed. His glare burned on Shulk's face, but there was more in his eyes than shock and anger – was it compassion? Or a mere trick of the many light sources intermingling on his face?

"I thought there existed no visions in this world," Dunban said slowly. His gaze didn't leave Shulk's face for a second.

"I thought so too. Without Alvis and with the flow of ether depleting, it makes no sense for me to see these images. But I know that there is a place somewhere that I must find. Maybe the answer is waiting for me there. Maybe all of it is wishful thinking. But I have to go."

"You're giving up on the present in favour of a future that may or may not play out the way you think it will. Even if it's the worst nightmare you see, you shouldn't let that disaster control you before it has happened."

"Before?" Shulk forced a brittle smile on his lips. "But it has happened already. More times than I can count."

Dunban fell silent.

The ether spirals shared their multi-coloured glow with the world, a piece of an aurora borealis brought to the ground for people to touch. In a fashion Shulk could not have engineered through his wildest wishes, they challenged the stars above. They were different in this world, the stars. Except Shulk hadn't realised how significant the difference was.

"Your visions aren't inevitable, Shulk," Dunban said after a long moment. "Even Zanza couldn't foresee his defeat. There's still time for you to fight and shape the future like you did before. That's the essence of the world you wished for, and personally, I wouldn't have it any other way."

"Maybe." Shulk stared at his empty hand. "But after the Fogbeasts and the decay of the Shoulder and now the visions… I'm not sure this is the world I wished for. It's like I'm fighting the sea and the sky with my bare hands."

"Do you rather want to give up?"

"No, I can't give up. Not yet."

Dunban nodded. "You have to go, you made that clear. It's not the outcome I would like to see, but knowing you, I wouldn't be able to convince you to turn around if I chained you to the Havre's reverse gear. Do you know where we are headed?"

"Not exactly. It's more of a vague feeling that pulls me forward."

An ironic smile flashed on Dunban's face. "And here I had hoped we wouldn't fly blindly into what will almost certainly be our undoing."

"It's true, I can't guarantee that we will find anything at the end of this journey. But I…" Shulk faltered. His nails dug deeper into his hand. He needed to say this before he squandered another opportunity, before another chance slipped through his fingers. For the first time during their conversation, Shulk established direct eye contact. "I need you, Dunban."

The irony fled from Dunban's smile. Pure, honest warmth remained. "You underestimate your own strength."

"No, you don't understand, I need you. I can't do this without you! Please…"

"It's okay. I'm not going anywhere. I promised to bring you back home in one piece, didn't I?"

"Then…" Shulk's hand twitched towards where the Monado replica lay next to him. "Will you train with me? Like you used to?"

All the hardness Dunban's face had amassed over the years, all the grim lines, softened. For this one moment, on a nameless island outside the known world, the hero of the Homs returned, no, the brother, the father Shulk looked up to returned from the fog. And for this moment, a warmth filled the campsite that didn't match the dying embers. Somewhere in the distant future, and maybe it was only an illusion, a wishful thought on the path one step closer to the Divine, but a metal bridge mended itself.

"Naturally," Dunban said. "If that's what you want, I'll train with you. Like we used to."

Shulk's heartbeat calmed. "Thank you."

Dunban nodded. "Now try to sleep for another hour or two. I'll keep watch."

And when Shulk placed his head down, sleep enveloped him. No more visions came to him that night.

13/07/22: Apprehension [æp.rɪˈhen.ʃən] - noun "worry about the future, or a fear that something unpleasant is going to happen"

Another short chapter, and I'm sorry about that, but it discusses some crucial elements I don't want overlooked. Next time, we will start dipping our toes into the weirder lore shenanigans I have come up with, so that could be fun. Or just predestined to raise eyebrows. Remember that your thoughts and opinions are precious to me, and I'm always elated to hear them.