36. Hourglass
Tick-tock, tick-tock, falling down the rabbit hole–made of clouds and glass.
Coming to land on a sandy shore, where there isn't anyone but himself and an illusion of a mother–protect me–in a black dress and walking on water.
He shouts her name–Matron–and the word is torn away by the wind. He moves like his limbs are encased in molasses, dragging slowly through time–compression–and she gets closer as he goes deeper into the churning, bubbling–bloody–sea.
Mother.
A touch. Satin over steel, claws at his temples, pity and disgust reflecting in her eyes.
And then he is screaming, screaming because she is in his head and all he can hear is nothing.
"Seifer–"
No. No, she can't have Quistis, can't mark her, can't touch her. This will be the end.
"Seifer!"
He reaches, grabs, clutches at nothing and something solid all at once.