Final Fantasy 8: Future Bound

by Darsar

The continuation of the events of Final Fantasy 8, shortly after the conclusion of the game.

58. Chapter 58: Memorial

Chapter 58

Memorial

(Rinoa)

The power was excruciating. Nothing had prepared her for this feeling of absolute overwhelming energy.

When Piet had described how Hyne's Fount was a collection of energy from all over the planet, she couldn't have guessed how unimaginably vast it truly was. Even going back in time and experiencing Adel's past and seeing her absorb the power of the Fount was still only a vague approximation of the Fount's fury—like the difference between seeing a picture of a tornado versus stepping directly into its path.

The vast amounts of energy gave her a superhuman self-awareness. She could feel—or thought she could feel—every molecule in her body being simultaneously repelled and drawn together, crushed and exploded all at once. She could feel the blood coursing in her veins, the air filling her lungs, the electrical impulses crackling along her nerves.

When she opened her eyes, she saw colors beyond the normal light spectrum, glowing shades of pink and green and yellow that she didn't even know existed. She was in tune with the rotation of the planet, the distant movements of the moon and the sun.

There was no room for panic or fear or doubt. There was only the crushing imperative of power, the intense desire to act, to channel these forces within her. There was no question that she could do or undo anything. If something was absent in the world, she could create it. If something displeased her, she could annihilate it. These were simple facts, and she understood them perfectly without being told.

She could have lost her mind then. Consumed by the power of Hyne's Fount, she could have lost her identity, become one with the power and turned into something else—not human, not animal, not monster, but a new being entirely. And, had she waited a few more seconds, she may very well have. But as her eyes crossed the open cavern, from the top of dais she stood upon, she saw Squall sitting with his back against the wall, looking up at her in awe and wonder. Ellone's body was strewn on the steps. Rinoa could feel the absence of life within her.

"Rinoa," he said in a pained whisper.

She felt the vibrations of his words on her skin, could see the ripple in the air formed by his voice. Everything was sharp and detailed and perfectly clear.

And with that single word, she had—for the first time since being released from Ultimecia—a coherent thought.

(I have to get away.)

The power seemed like it would destroy Squall, or anyone else that got too close to her. She felt like a star, firing radiation and heat in all directions. Or a bomb, exploding in slow motion. The simple act of being in the same room as Squall would surely kill him, reduce him to ashes—or so she thought. All she knew for sure was that Squall felt pathetically tiny to her, like an eyelash in a hurricane. How could he be near her and not be shattered?

And the sensation was so much worse inside the Pandora. She could feel the energies coursing through the glowing green stones. She sensed the intangible threads of power that linked the Crystal Pillar to the moon, to the core of the planet where Hyne's Fount was stored, as well as its links to the future and the past. For a moment of pure clarity, she understood how magic functioned, how the Fount worked, and the secrets of Guardian Forces and time and memory and sorceresses.

She understood all these things, felt all these things, but she understood and felt them all at once, so that she was unable to process or focus on any individual aspect. All those thoughts and feelings converged upon one point, bearing down upon Rinoa like light through an enormous magnifying lens. They enhanced and connected and redirected, sending her thoughts and her power into uncontrollable turmoil.

(I have to get away!)

She couldn't stay a moment longer. Either her power would kill Squall, or she would lose her grip on her sanity and she would kill him. In either case, she had to move, had to act, or else she would destroy everything.

But she didn't know the way out of the Pandora. She couldn't recall the twisting, circuitous route that Ultimecia had taken to come to this point. And the thought taking the time to wander aimlessly through the Pandora was simply out of the question.

She raised one hand towards the stone wall opposite Squall and, with the tiniest exertion of will, she tore open a hole in the rock, extending it and forming a long, straight tunnel to the outside. The stone rumbled and shook as she pulled it aside, but it could do nothing to stop her. Squall shouted something, but Rinoa couldn't hear him over the earthquake inside the Crystal Pillar.

She turned away from Squall and looked down the tunnel she had created. Fading rays of orange daylight poured through the hole at the end. Without thinking, she leaned forward and flew towards that opening at the end, traveling with an incredible rush of wind through the tunnel. It took her several seconds to realize that she was actually flying. Her feet were stretched out behind her, and her body was angled nearly parallel to the ground as she rushed headfirst towards the exit. Her clothes and her hair whipped and snapped in the wind and her eyes watered, but she kept going.

(Get away. Get away.)

She was not aware of manipulating the winds or pushing against the ground or any surface. She was flying and she did not understand how. She wanted to escape and so now she did. There was no intermediary between her desire and the resulting action. She had a thought and the thought was immediately made manifest.

(How?)

But there was no time to consider that. She escaped the tunnel and the Lunatic Pandora, emerging with a deafening howl of wind in the dying sunlight above the sparkling Esthar city.

Once free of the Pandora, she filled her lungs with air, relishing the open space. Now that she was outside of the Crystal Pillar, the weight of the green stones no longer bore down on her body and her mind, and she began to recover her thoughts. Her wild animal panic subsided, allowing her to think, to reason, and to plan. The overwhelming desire to act—to create and destroy—still tore at her heart, but it was more manageable now.

(Now what?)

To the west, the Galbadian forces were steadily advancing into the city. The Galbadians were on the verge of routing the collapsing Esthar lines. She could see a series of concentric rings formed by broken Esthar artillery, fallen soldiers of both armies, and busted machinery. Each ring showed a place where Esthar had turned and made a stand against their attackers only to be beaten back and forced to retreat, shrinking their perimeter and forfeiting more and more of their city to the Galbadians.

In many places, the Esthar defenses had been spread too thin, and the Galbadians had already broken past the defenders, spreading their way through the streets like an ocean wave sweeping away a sand castle.

There was no defense against the G-Army. With increasing disorganization, the Esthar soldiers retreated back to the nearest building or broken down car or pile of wreckage, turned and faced their enemies, and fired until they died or could no longer hold the position. Then they retreated and began the process again, each time yielding more open streets, more access roads, more skyways above the city, making it harder and harder to stop the endless advance of the G-Army.

Esthar had already lost. That much was obvious. And yet Esthar continued to battle, fighting to the last man. Were they motivated by national pride? Did they hate the Galbadians so much that they were willing to sacrifice themselves to kill as many G-Soldiers as possible? Or were the Esthar soldiers so terrified of Galbadian rule that they would rather die fighting it than face the threat of living under it? Rinoa didn't know. But she knew that she—fueled by the incredible power of the Fount—was the only person in the world that had any hope of saving Esthar.

(So what do I do?)

The damage was severe and widespread. The G-Soldiers were swarming everywhere. Where could she even begin? And furthermore, how could she attack Galbadia without damaging Esthar as well? She felt powerful, but she didn't trust her ability to control that power. She feared that if she let loose with the full potential of the Fount, she would end up destroying half of Esthar along with it.

Still hovering in the skies outside the Lunatic Pandora, she scanned along the city streets, looking for an obvious place to begin her counterattack. Somewhere a little more secluded where she could try out her powers without risking too much unnecessary damage.

It was then that she noticed the howling of the missiles from the north, which had continued to harass the Esthar forces since the battle began. She spun and watched the missiles arc through the sky.

Missiles were easy to handle. They were big, loud targets and—while they were in the air—they weren't close to any buildings or Esthar troops. There would be no collateral damage if she attacked the missiles.

(I can handle those.)

She reached out a hand and focused. At least two dozen missiles were beginning their descent down to the streets of Esthar and, in that instant, two dozen bolts of lightning leapt from the palm of Rinoa's outstretched hand and connected neatly with the centers of each missile, igniting them from within and filling the sky with orbs of fire and smoke.

There seemed to be a momentary pause in the battle—or maybe it was Rinoa's imagination. Whatever the case, she was given several seconds to take a breath, focus her energy, and try to calm the screaming tension in her brain that demanded her to unleash more of her power. To abandon caution and act with impunity. She took a breath.

(I have to keep control…)

Another wave of missiles fired off from the northern ridge. This time Rinoa was able to see where the missiles had launched from—the top of the mountain ridge that formed a barrier between Esthar and the rest of the world. She fired out another multi-pronged lightning attack, destroying all the missiles before they had even finished climbing into the sky. That magic spell would have been impossible for her just a few hours ago. Now it was so easy it almost felt anticlimactic.

(I have to destroy the launchers.)

She leaned forward, pointing herself at the distant ridge, and began to fly, moving faster than the Ragnarok—or any other manmade device—had ever traveled. As she rushed towards the ridge, she became aware of two giant wings sprouting from her back: luminescent, white bird wings that folded and unfolded slowly, as though gently flapping against the air. She could tell that they had nothing to do with keeping her aloft; rather they seemed to be only an extension of her power, a manifestation of her desire to move, to act.

Also she was aware that Galbadia was firing at her. Bullets came up from the city streets below, some of them coming close enough to strike her—before being dissolved into particles. She wasn't aware that she calling up a defensive shield. Either she was so powerful that the shield was generated automatically, or the bullets were such insignificant threats that she didn't even need to be aware of them in order to destroy them.

She felt a giddy rush of adrenaline speed through her. She spread her mouth in an unconscious grin, reveling in her own incredible power.

(I can do this.)

(I can save Esthar.)

When she got close to the ridge, she saw the line of missile launchers stationed along the top, tucked between boulders and jagged rocks. At the bottom of the ridge, a contingent of Esthar soldiers had gathered, firing upwards at the launchers. But due to the high cliffs and uneven terrain, the soldiers below were having no success hitting their targets above. A few soldiers were attempting to climb up to the missile launchers, but the Galbadians could easily use their rifles to fire downward on them, knocking them off the cliffs.

There simply weren't enough Esthar soldiers to both defend the western front and counterattack the northern missile launchers. Galbadia had them overwhelmed.

(I can fix that.)

Her giddy grin twisted to a scowl. She raised her left fist to her right ear and squeezed her fingers. She sucked in a deep breath, then slashed her arm across her body, splaying her fingers out.

A rush of wind swept across the top of the ridge like a scythe mowing through hay. The launchers were flipped backwards, their wheels spinning uselessly in the air. Some of them were thrown off the ridge and into canyons and crevasses behind them. The missiles flipped and exploded, blowing giant holes in the ridge and raining rocks and destruction down through the mountains. The Galbadian soldiers were blown completely off the ridge and into oblivion.

And just like that, the Galbadian northern front was wiped out. But still, the power of Hyne's Fount suffused her, demanded that she do more. That she make absolutely sure that there would be no more attacks from the north.

She sucked in another breath and switched from wind magic to earth magic. Still flying, she reached out one hand—her fingers bent into claw shapes—and grabbed the hard rocks on the cliff from a distance, using her magic to lift them up in a continuous sheet, then raising it several stories into the air, then folding that sheet northwards, crushing any Galbadian forces that lingered.

She flew to the west, heading parallel to the ridge and dragging the rocks behind her, like a surfer cutting through an ocean wave. The rocks rumbled and crunched as they rose up and crashed down behind her. Within seconds, any remaining Galbadian missile launchers—or soldiers or machines—were buried under thousands of tons of solid rock.

At last she reached a tall mountain peak—which formed the end of the Galbadian front—and she came to a stop. She unclenched her fingers, allowing the last of the stone wave to collapse against the northern edge of the ridge. She spun around and looked at the destruction she had caused, both surprise and awe filling her mind.

She had just reshaped an entire mountain ridge, folding over its peaks, and yet she felt no more tired than if she had done nothing more than carry an armful of books to class. She knew that Hyne's Fount had made her powerful, but this was her first time being able to actually see that power in action.

She thought of how strong a SeeD was in comparison to an ordinary soldier, and how strong a sorceress was next to a SeeD. But she was now an order of magnitude stronger than she had been before taking the Fount. She eclipsed even other sorceresses.

(I can do this.)

(I can destroy the Galbadians.)

Yes. Not only could she end this war, she could end all wars. She could wipe Galbadia from the face of the world. No more tyrants like Vinzer Deling. No more soldiers in blue uniforms oppressing Timber or invading Dollet. By sheer force of will, she could finally liberate Timber, save Garden and Esthar, and end one of the greatest threats to the world's stability.

Not only could she do this, she wanted to do it. The power within her cried out to be used. Create, destroy, manipulate—it didn't matter. The Fount demanded to be expressed. To lay its hand upon the world and thus reshape it.

She blinked. She looked again at the mountains, but this time she felt horror and disgust, not awe. She had just deformed the planet on a whim, murdered dozens of soldiers in seconds. Her vision spun, and the magnitude of her actions—and the darkness of her thoughts—pressed down upon her.

She thought of Adel, taking the power of the Fount and immediately slaughtering her tribe. The fierce, manic glee she had felt when she murdered her own kin. She hugged herself and tucked her chin against her chest, struggling to keep from shaking.

(I'm not Adel.)

But, a part of her argued, murdering Galbadians wasn't the same as murdering family. The Galbadians deserved to die. They had attacked first. Anything Rinoa did in response was self-defense. Esthar would congratulate her for saving their city, Squall would agree with her, her friends would understand. She had done what was necessary.

She shook her head.

(I'm not like that.)

Something in her continued to argue, to cry out for vengeance and violence. After all, this part of her said, hadn't she already killed before? Killed Galbadian soldiers? Hijacked a train that was supposed to be carrying the Galbadian President? Hadn't she sat in the headquarters of the Forest Owls and longed to see the day when Galbadia was destroyed? And now she had the power to do that. All she had to do was reach out and use it.

She shook her head again.

(I'm not like Adel.)

(I'm not like Ultimecia.)

It was too much. Too much power. Too much responsibility. Her actions would affect the course of history, alter the paths of two of the largest and most powerful nations on the planet. Thousands of lives would be saved or lost based on her decisions.

From the corner of her eye, she noticed a red dot emerge from one of the tallest buildings in the middle of the city, then begin to fly off to the west. She squinted at it, trying to see what it was. After a few seconds, she recognized the dragon shape of the spaceship Ragnarok. The rear engines lit up with bright fire and the ship accelerated out of the city.

(Where are they going?)

Judging by the ship's speed and its direction, it was clear that they weren't trying to help the Esthar front. In fact, they were almost already passed it, heading for the far western borders of the city and towards the Great Salt Lake.

Her first thought was that it was some sort of evacuation attempt. Esthar, realizing that it was only a matter of time before they fell, must have loaded up their most important citizens into the Ragnarok so that they could escape the battle and the subsequent Galbadian rule.

That explanation made sense to her. With a start, she realized that if that was true, then surely Laguna, Odine, Piet, or someone else who was smart would probably be on that ship. Someone who could give her advice, tell her what to do next. Relieve the burden of her responsibility by spreading it among several individuals. After all, Adel and Ultimecia never consulted anyone else. They never asked for help. If Rinoa sought out advice from other people, wouldn't that prove that she was different?

(I'm not like Adel.)

She put her feet behind her and her wings above her and flew after the Ragnarok, with Galbadian bullets still chasing after her and bouncing ineffectually off her shield. To her surprise, it was effortless to catch the speeding Ragnarok. Within seconds she was alongside the ship, peering through the glass eyes of the dragon, which formed the windows into the cockpit. She wanted to see who was inside, and alert them that she wanted to come in.

But she saw only her own reflection on the glass, her massive white wings fanning out behind her as she flew at breakneck speeds. She had never really paid much attention to the exterior of the ship before and hadn't noticed that the cockpit windows were tinted. If she wanted to see who was flying the ship, she would have to go inside.

(I hope they remember who I am.)

Her first thought was that if she tried to board the ship, the Esthar soldiers might panic and shoot her. But then she realized that that didn't matter. Even if the soldiers unloaded on her with everything they had, they still couldn't stop her.

She sped ahead of the ship and pointed herself at the Ragnarok's chest, where its massive front bay was located. She reached out with her power—demonstrating a surprising amount of finesse and skill—and pried open the locks from inside, pulling down the door and allowing her inside.

She expected to be attacked right away. Even if the soldiers recognized her, they wouldn't take kindly to the way she had forced herself inside. But when she landed on the metal floor inside the loading bay, she found it to be completely empty. She frowned, confused, and gripped her upper arm with one hand.

(Where are they?)

The wind from the open door continued to buffet her. She stepped forward to the control panel and hit the glowing switch and the door closed automatically. Her ears popped in the changing pressure. Once again she felt a surge of crushing claustrophobia. The power within her wanted to be loose, to be out in the open air where it could spread out. Being inside the Ragnarok was not as intense as being inside the Pandora, but it was still uncomfortable. Rinoa had to work to keep herself from tearing a hole in the side of the ship and escaping back into the sky.

"Hello?" she called, but got no response.

Cautiously, she stepped through the door, through a hallway, and up a staircase to the second floor. At intervals, she stopped to call out, but never got any answer. She found her way to the small elevator and rode it up into the bridge, feeling more tense and anxious with every second.

(Why would the ship be empty?)

(Who's piloting it?)

The cockpit was empty, except for the pilot. The remnants of Seifer and Squall's battle had been mostly cleared out—the bodies, the blood, the bullet shells—but the front windows were still cracked and bullet holes still pockmarked the walls. One of the seats had been pulled out—apparently it had been too damaged to repair and was in the process of being replaced.

The pilot sat at the front, his back straight and his arms firmly gripping the controls. He didn't turn and look at Rinoa, or even acknowledge her presence. He continued to stare straight ahead, oblivious to everything except the minutia of piloting the ship.

(Is he a robot?)

He didn't look like of Esthar's creepy androids. He was dressed in the common blue uniform of the ordinary Esthar soldier, not the darker gray that they gave to distinguish the androids from everyone else.

"Hey," Rinoa said to him. "What's going on?"

The soldier didn't answer her. As she stepped forward, she became intensely aware of a presence in the room. Her eyes widened, and she stopped mid-stride. There was something or someone in the room and it was powerful. Not as powerful as her, but strong enough to be noticed.

"Who's there?" Rinoa asked.

A small streak of lighting arced across the room, striking the ceiling to the right of Rinoa. She flinched and looked at the space that the bolt had struck. Sparks shot from the impact site, and a ring of scorched metal was left behind. As she turned her head to see where the lightning had come from, she heard the rush of bare feet on the floor. A hand was around her wrist before she could react. She called up her power to defend herself, but the energy died in her chest in a second, replaced by a single thought that was not her own.

(Stop!)

And she did. The voice spoke in her mind so clearly, so firmly, that she had no choice to obey. All at once, her awareness of herself, of her body, vanished, replaced by images and thoughts. They seemed to be random, chaotic. She saw Timber. She saw the inside of her father's mansion. She saw the Ragnarok, inside its storage room. She saw herself fighting against a crowd of Esthar soldiers, before being captured and knocked unconscious. She saw herself inside a giant tube filled with blue water, watching as people fought with magic.

She saw herself sneaking to Esthar airfield. Soldiers were stationed around the Ragnarok, hastily doing repairs to its damaged parts and trying to get it ready to be used in the battle, as a desperate last attempt to save the city. She saw herself reach out and touch a soldier, willing him to submit himself to her. She saw this process repeat several times until she had nearly a dozen soldiers in her service, all mindless drones who obeyed her without question. She told one of them to pilot the ship and left the rest behind to help facilitate her escape.

The pieces fit together, and Rinoa figured out what had happened—what was happening. Rinoa had accidentally stumbled into Ciel's attempt to escape the city. Furthermore she had allowed herself to get distracted, and now Ciel was invading her mind.

(NO!)

Rinoa reached out for her power, her connection to Hyne's Fount, but it was severed. She was lost in a sea of memories that were not her own, thoughts that belonged to Ciel. She could not reach herself, her own body, her own mind.

Inside her head, she screamed. She pushed. She fought. Ciel struggled back, trying to impose her will on Rinoa, to get her to obey like she had with all the other soldiers. But the power of the Fount was stronger than both of them, and as the two sorceress fought for mastery of that incredible energy, Rinoa felt herself tear free—not of Ciel's grasp—but of reality itself.

And everything stops.

What was a torrent of memories and struggling has now been reduced to nothing more than eternal white stillness. The world, it seems, has moved on without her, leaving her and Ciel alone in the quiet and the solitude that exists inside time compression. For a moment, it is peaceful. It allows her the chance to recover herself, regain control of her senses, and put the last few minutes and hours and days into perspective.

Beside her, Ciel cowers, hunched over, her eyes darting back and forth like a startled animal. Rinoa can feel the tension radiating off the younger girl's skin, and she can feel her fingers digging into the flesh of Rinoa's arm. Here in time compression, Rinoa is not connected to the Fount. She feels relieved to be herself again—to not have that constant, screaming urge to act, to use her power.

Rinoa grimaces and shakes her arm loose of Ciel's grasp. Ciel releases it only reluctantly. Tiny red lines are left in Rinoa's pale skin where Ciel's fingers left their marks.

"Where…" Ciel says. She spins around, looking up and down. There is nothing to see in the empty white void, yet Ciel continues to search, as if finding a marker would give her a clue as to what has happened.

"It's time compression," Rinoa says. She opens her mouth to say more, but then she closes it again and frowns.

(I don't really know how to explain this to her.)

Rinoa has the advantage of past experience. She knows about Ultimecia, the future, and the events that caused to her and the others to instigate the series of events that would eventually culminate in time compression. That knowledge provides her with a necessary base upon which all the rest of her knowledge is built upon. Ciel does not have that, and Rinoa can think of no way to explain the situation to her without rewinding the events of the past several months, drawing it all out in careful detail.

But Ciel spares Rinoa the need to explain all that by asking, "How do we get out?"

"I… I'm not quite sure," Rinoa says.

It isn't that Rinoa is entirely ignorant. In fact, she already has a couple of different ideas for how to escape time compression. Rather, Rinoa doesn't understand how they got into time compression in the first place and therefore only has a vague idea of how to get back out again.

Every time that she or someone else has gone into time compression, there was a link forged between that person and a Guardian Force or some equivalent entity. The first time the six went into the future, they used their Guardian Forces along with the Lunatic Pandora to connect them. When Rinoa went into time compression again, it was triggered by the Odine Ring, which was made with a shard from the Crystal Pillar.

But this time is different. Neither Rinoa nor Ciel are junctioning Guardian Forces. They are nowhere near the Pandora—or at least, they aren't close enough for the Pandora to have any effect. And the Odine Ring is gone.

(Is it because of the Fount?)

(Or is it something about Ciel's powers?)

Those are the only two variables that Rinoa can think of at the moment. Depending on which phenomena is to blame, the solutions to the problem are different. But then she realizes that she doesn't know how Squall got sent to time compression after being almost killed by Ultimecia aboard the Ragnarok. After all, his GF had been obliterated moments before, and he was nowhere near the Pandora or the Odine ring either.

(Wait…)

(Is it the Ragnarok?)

Rinoa thinks that she may be on to something. Who knows what kind of energies Esthar poured into the making of the world's first spaceship? Maybe pieces of the Crystal Pillar went into the Ragnarok, giving it special properties.

(That might be it.)

Ciel, however, does not have the time or the patience to figure out what is going on. As soon as Rinoa admits that she doesn't know, Ciel cries out in frustration and slams the heels of her hands onto her legs before spinning around once again, her hands grabbing clumps on her hair and pulling.

"Calm down," Rinoa says, reaching for the other sorceress, but Ciel swats aside Rinoa's hands and begins running in a random direction. Rinoa sighs and watches her go for several seconds. She doesn't feel any strong desire to save the girl, but then she realizes that it's best if the two stay together.

(I might need her help to get out of here.)

Reluctantly, Rinoa begins to jog to keep up with Ciel. Fortunately, Ciel's panic episode only lasts another minute or so before she slows to a trot and then doubles over, her hands on her knees, her breath coming out in ragged gasps. Rinoa easily catches up to her, but stops a half dozen paces away to avoid startling her.

After a few seconds, Ciel straightens up, rubs her eyes with the heels of her hands, and turns to face Rinoa.

"Did you do this?" Ciel asks, pointing an accusing finger at Rinoa.

(It was either me, with the Fount.)

(Or you, with your power.)

(Or maybe the Ragnarok.)

(I dunno.)

But she doesn't want to say that she doesn't know. She wants to appear to have at least some knowledge, to keep Ciel from panicking again.

"One of us did, I think," Rinoa says.

Ciel grinds her teeth for a few seconds, then asks, "Are we dead?"
"No," Rinoa says. She shakes her head for emphasis. "We're not dead."

"Are we alone?" Ciel asks. Her voice goes slightly higher.

Rinoa wants to say something comforting, to stem the rising tide of panic that Rinoa can almost feel radiating off of Ciel, but at the same time, she doesn't want to lie or mislead the other girl. Despite everything that has happened, Rinoa doesn't feel any particular animosity towards the other girl. Without the threat of her sorceress powers, Ciel is just a scared teenage girl in a confusing situation.

"I'm not sure," Rinoa says. Then she quickly adds, "But I don't think so."

Ciel spins around. She cups her hands around her mouth and shouts into the void, "HELLO!"

Her voice doesn't even echo. It is swallowed by the empty white space and is gone. Ciel sucks in a breath and tries again. "HELLO!" she shouts, louder than before.

"That's not gonna help," Rinoa says. She crosses her arms. Then, in a moment of self-awareness, she looks down at herself and realizes that she's standing exactly like Squall does when he's annoyed.

(Oh god, I'm probably making the same face as him too.)

She blinks, then uncrosses her arms and lets them fall to her sides.

"IS ANYONE HERE?" Ciel shouts.

Rinoa feels a surge of frustration rise within her. The fact that Ciel—when given the choice between talking to Rinoa and shouting to an empty void—would choose the void is humiliating and embarrassing. Granted, Rinoa knows that she is hardly the expert on time compression or even on the sorceress powers, but she could provide some answers if only Ciel would stop asking such vague questions.

(Maybe she doesn't trust me.)

(I suppose I wouldn't trust me either, after everything that's happened.)

The frustration is tempered with a note of sympathy, and Rinoa looks on as Ciel once more tries to converse with the nothingness surrounding them.

"ANYONE?" Ciel shouts. "ANYONE HERE?"

Rinoa is about to move forward and try to calm Ciel down when she detects a change in the atmosphere. She doesn't feel a temperature change or a breeze or anything. Rather, she has the feeling that she is being watched. Her skin prickles, and the space between her shoulder blades tightens. She has a sudden urge to run away or fight, but she doesn't know what could possibly be threatening her in this empty place.

Ciel stops her shouting and slowly brings her hands down. Apparently she has felt the change as well.

"I am here," a voice responds from the void. The speaker's voice fills both Rinoa's ears and her mind at the same time, as if she was both hearing the voice and thinking the voice at once. The effect in intimidating, and makes her feel small.

A second later a disk of pure black forms around Ciel and Rinoa's feet, oozing out in all directions. Ciel hops from foot to foot, as if the blackness is poisonous or corrosive, but Rinoa can feel nothing but a harsh chill emanating from the darkness.

The disk expands, stretching to the imaginary horizon line in the distance, dividing the void into a white sky and a black floor. When Rinoa looks down, she sees that the blackness is not empty, but is instead filled with distant white stars. One of the stars glows brighter than the others, but radiates no warmth. That one star enlarges, becoming bigger and bigger, blocking out the smaller lights around it.

Only after several seconds does Rinoa realize that the star is not growing larger—it is coming closer. Rinoa takes a few steps backward, retreating from the path of the incoming star, but she soon realizes there is no use. The star is too big and approaching too fast. She will never get out of the way quick enough.

When the star is seconds away from colliding with her feet, Rinoa sees that it is encircled by a purple ring, almost like the outline of a skull. From that skull emerge to giant silver spikes. Trailing behind the star is a massive, distorted body—vaguely in the shape of a human, but with skin like a monster's and filled with holes.

With a gasp, Rinoa recognizes this creature.

(It's Ultimecia!)

Ultimecia in her true form, twisted and deformed by the intense pressure of her powers until she no longer resembles anything human. She rushes upward through the void, the glowing light inside her skull coming faster and faster. At the last moment, Rinoa turns her head and brings her arms up to shield her face. She hears a terrible rushing sound—like river rapids or a storm—and then silence.

When Rinoa opens her eyes, the white void and the darkness are gone. The stars below are gone and so too is Ultimecia.

She finds herself in a massive foyer, beneath a giant glimmering chandelier. Before her is a curving staircase, carpeted in exquisite red. Heavy brown railings trace along both sides of the stairs leading up to a second floor walkway that extends around three sides of the room. Behind her is a massive pair of double doors, sealed tightly shut and carved with ornate designs of dragons, grendels, and other beasts. Smaller doors are on the left and right sides of the room and they too are sealed. Hideous gargoyles are perched along the railing of the second floor, scowling down upon any and all visitors while statues on the first floor stare unwelcomingly at her. Ugly statues stand watch around her, making her feel uncomfortable.

Everything around her gives the air of being very expensive, very strong, and very oppressive. Even the air feels thick and choking, as if the atmosphere itself rejects her presence. There is a strange scent, like blood mixed with perfume. It turns her stomach.

(I know this place.)

Ultimecia's castle. Rinoa has visited and revisited the place several times in her dreams in the weeks following her travels to the future. She never thought that she would find herself inside it again.

(This can't be happening.)

(We destroyed Ultimecia.)

(We won.)

"I'm not really here," Rinoa says. She closes her eyes. "This is a trick."

"Tricks are for those too weak to rule by strength alone," a voice at the top of the steps says in a heavy accent. Rinoa opens her eyes and looks up, but she already knows that it is Ultimecia who is speaking.

Ultimecia, this time, is in her human form, her face marked with tattoos, her hair extended out in twin horns of gray, her figure covered by a blood red dress. She holds a golden goblet loosely in her left hand. She takes a sip from the goblet and then begins descending the steps, her dress flowing soundlessly over the stairs.

"You're dead," Rinoa says. "We killed you."

"That is what your mind says," Ultimecia says, drawing closer and closer. "And that is what they told you. But what do your eyes say? What do your ears say? And what does your heart say? If this is an illusion, then what is reality at all?"

Ultimecia reaches the bottom of the steps and takes another delicate sip from her goblet. Rinoa retreats a step, wanting as much room between herself and the sorceress from the future as possible. Thankfully, Ultimecia does not advance any further. Instead, she tips her goblet up, draining the last of whatever she was drinking, then tosses the goblet aside. It crumbles into dust midair and vanishes.

"I admit," Ultimecia says, "I feel a certain kinship with you. As I do with all sorceresses who kame before me. You are my ancestors. We are family."

"If we're family," Rinoa says, "Then why do you keep trying to kill me?"

Ultimecia smirks. "Not all families are happy. But you already know this, don't you?"

Rinoa blinks and behind her eyelids a vision of her father flashes before her eyes. She sees him with perfect clarity, exactly as she remembers him: clad in his black General's uniform, his medals pinned to his chest and a stern scowl pinned to his face.

Rinoa has to shake her head to clear the vision from her mind. Whether the thought came to her mind because Ultimecia mentioned "family" or if the thought was put there by Ultimecia, Rinoa cannot say. Either way, the memory of her father fills her with conflicting emotions, which she suppresses.

(This isn't the time to be thinking about that man.)

"My father is dead," Rinoa says. "Just like you."

"Is he now?" Ultimecia says slowly. Immediately, Rinoa's insides twist and her heart speeds up. The door to the right opens with a dull creaking sound, and General Fury Caraway steps through, one of his white gloved hands resting on the doorknob. He steps into the foyer and meets Rinoa's eyes. He pauses and a look of sadness and grief fills his face.

Rinoa turns away and bites down on her tongue.

(It's a lie.)

(It's a trick.)

(None of this is real.)

"… Rinoa?" General Caraway says. She can hear his footsteps approaching, but she doesn't turn to look. "Is it you?"

She can feel him drawing closer until his hand rests upon her shoulder. Suddenly, something within Rinoa snaps. She raises her arm and knocks his hand off her shoulder and spins around.

"DON'T!" Rinoa says. She takes a step back. "… touch me."

Caraway looks hurt, but he nods, then folds his hands behind his back and stands before Rinoa.

"We've…" Caraway says. He clears his throat and tries again. "We've got a lot to talk about, don't we? But that's okay. We have all the time in the world now. We can fix this."

"Fix what?" Rinoa says, her words coming out like daggers.

"I always thought that I'd have more time to explain things to you," Caraway says. "But I guess… I guess I never got that chance."

Rage builds up inside Rinoa. "Don't act like you suddenly care about things," she says, taking a step towards him. "Don't act like you have feelings! You're not even real!"

She pushes him hard on the shoulders and is surprised by how solid he is. He takes a small step backwards to catch himself, but otherwise is barely moved by her shove. Rinoa glances at Ultimecia, who is standing at the bottom of the steps, watching the scene play out with a catlike grin on her face.

"Make him go away!" Rinoa says. "I don't wanna talk to him."

"Rinoa…" Caraway says.

Ultimecia shrugs. "He, apparently, wishes to talk to you."

"I don't care," Rinoa says.

Ultimecia's grin widens. She reaches out one hand—her fingernails ending in deadly points—and gestures for Caraway to step aside. He takes a few steps backwards and stands beside a statue of a drooling creature with the head of a horse and the body of a human. He plants his feet firmly, like he's about to be dressed down by a superior officer, and waits.

"There are others here with me," Ultimecia says, "If you do not wish to speak with your father. Perhaps… hmm…"

She places a single finger on her lips. After a moment's thought, her eyebrows shoot up. "Ah! Perhaps this one will do."

At the opposite side from where Caraway entered the room, another door opens. Rinoa grits her teeth and braces herself for whoever is about to enter.

(It's not real.)

(Whoever it is, it's not real.)

Meekly, Ellone steps into the foyer. She tentatively licks her lips, then—with her head bowed—she walks over to stand beside Ultimecia. Ultimecia reaches out and grasps a single lock of Ellone's brown hair and twists it between her fingers. Ellone grimaces and tilts her head away, but does not make any move to stop her.

Ultimecia turns to Ellone. "Tell her," she says in a whisper loud enough for Rinoa to hear. "Tell her what it's like to die. Tell her what it's like in that final moment, when death overkomes you."

Rinoa takes a step forward. "Leave her alone!"

Illusion or not, Rinoa isn't going to stand by and let Ultimecia intimidate Ellone.

Ellone winces, and Rinoa reaches within herself, looking for her sorceress powers. But there's nothing there. Not her sorceress powers, not her junctions. Nothing. She isn't even carrying her blaster edge with her.

"It doesn't matter," Ellone says softly. She turns to face Rinoa. "It doesn't matter what you do. It all comes out the same. Ultimecia wins in the end. Everything we have done leads up to that moment, to her final victory."

"You're lying," Rinoa says, but she directs the statement at Ultimecia, not Ellone. She gestures all around. "This is all an illusion."

"Is it?" Ultimecia asks.

"I remember when you were little," General Caraway says. "Back when your mother was still alive."

At the mention of her mother, another wave of anger rushes over her.

"Shut up!" Rinoa shouts at him. "I didn't ask you."

"Remember the lake house?" General Caraway asks. "We never went there after your mother died, so maybe you don't."

Rinoa bites back another comment. She does remember the lake house. She remembers the water, always refreshingly cool—even on the hottest days. And clear too, so she could see right to the bottom. There were only a half a dozen other houses on the lake, all of them buried deep behind walls of lush green trees.

"There was another boy there," Caraway says. His voice is dreamy and far away. "About your age. His name was… Heath. Yes, Heath."

A twinge of recollection shoots through Rinoa.

(I haven't thought of him in years…)

"I remember the two of you would play in the lake during the summer," Caraway says. "All the other kids on the lake were too old or too young for you to play with. Do you know what happened to him?"

Rinoa thinks back. She doesn't want to remember, but prompted by her father's voice, the memories return to her unbidden. She thinks of Heath's sandy hair, always messy and dirty. He almost never bathed, except when he went in the lake, so he always had a peculiar smell to him—not unpleasant exactly, but distinctive. The two of them played together every summer, when Rinoa and her mother went to the lake house. Her father was always too busy at work to come to the lake house, except for maybe a weekend or two—if he was lucky. Rinoa doesn't know what ultimately happened to Heath, but she remembers how she had promised to see him next summer, like she had every summer before that. She remembers waving goodbye as she and her mother got in the car and drove away.

And then, a few months later, her mother died. Rinoa never went back to the lake house.

(Seems like forever ago.)

"He enlisted," Caraway says. "Of course, because his family was wealthy, he became an officer instead of a regular G-Army soldier." Caraway smiles sadly. "I never saw him again, but some of his paperwork crossed my desk a few months ago. I think he was requesting a transfer to a different station. I remembered his name when I saw it on the page. And now I hear you're dating that SeeD boy, aren't you? Me, that SeeD, Heath… It seems like all the men in your life became soldiers."

Ultimecia smiles at Rinoa. "Are you drawn to soldiers, or are soldiers drawn to you?"

"Stop it," Rinoa says, both to Ultimecia and to Caraway. "Stop it now!"

"But there's more I wish to show you," Ultimecia says. "More people I'd like for you to meet. We have time. There is no hurry."

"I don't care!" Rinoa says. She closes her eyes. "It's not real! You're dead! You're all dead!"

"None of this matters," Ellone says, almost to herself.

"I have another guest to show you," Ultimecia says. "One who dearly wishes to speak with you."

(Who else can she drag up?)

Rinoa's mind races, trying to think of all the people she cares about who have died. The only person she can think of—and the only one who might truly be able to hurt her—is her mother.

The doors at the top of the steps open with a rumbling sound and Rinoa almost jumps backwards. She is convinced that it will be her mother at the top of the steps. Her mother, with her long elegant hair curled around her body and her soft, musical voice.

(I don't want to see her.)

(I don't want to see her.)

Rinoa looks to the top of the steps and is relieved to see a shock of brilliant red hair. Rinoa lets out a breath and watches as Adel descends the stairs.

It is not Adel as she became later in life—twisted and deformed, with blue, veiny skin and a giant's body. Nor is it the teenage or child Adel that Rinoa encountered while visiting the past with Ellone. Rather, it's a middle-aged Adel, looking as she might have looked if she had never become a sorceress. If she had never taken Hyne's Fount.

She is not pretty, but she at least looks human and healthy. Her skin shows lines of aging, and her body is small and frail, but her eyes glow with strength and determination. And her hair has lost none of its luster, billowing around her shoulder like flames.

She comes to the bottom of the steps and stands on the other side of Ellone. Ellone bows her head and stares at the floor, her hands tucked tightly against her midsection, as if she's afraid to touch the two sorceresses on either side of her.

(I'd be afraid to touch them too.)

"You and I have already met, in a strange way," Adel says. Her voice is deep, tempered with experience. "I don't mean that fight we have inside the Lunatic Pandora, nor do I mean that time on Esthar's Lunar Base. But you and I have met. You've seen into my past and you know a little of who I am."

"… Yeah," Rinoa says.

"I am a direct descendent of one of the last remaining tribes of the Centra people," Adel says. "After the destruction of our nation, we became scattered. Some choose to assimilate into other societies. Some went east and tried to rebuild on the Esthar continent and create a new Centra. While others—my tribe—stayed in our homeland and tried to rebuild the glory of Centra."

As she says these last words, her voice gets mocking, and her hands sweep dramatically across her body and rise to the air. She completes the motion and then grins sardonically at Rinoa.

"I never bought into it," Adel says. "I wanted to live in a city. I wanted to have a bed. I wanted electricity, and fancy gadgets, and all these things I heard about in far off lands. I never cared about the glory of Old Centra."

"I don't care," Rinoa says. Her anger hardens her voice. "I saw enough of your past. Nothing that happened to you could possibly justify what you did—what you became."

(I'm not like Adel.)

(I'm not like Ultimecia.)

"Then let me get to the point," Adel says. "Haven't you wondered why Ultimecia kept referring to Ellone as an 'heiress?' Seems a strange word to call a person who can see the past, is it not?"

Hesitantly, Rinoa nods.

(Where's she going with this?)

"You'd think they'd go with 'seer' or 'connector' or something like that," Adel says. "Those words would make sense. But no. They're called 'heiresses' because that is a word from Old Centra. From back during the height of our civilization. Back when our country was ruled by a council of wise sorceresses. You see, heiresses were important in our society because they were presumed to inherit the sorceress power. And that's where their name comes from. When one of the sorceresses grew too old to continue ruling Centra, she chose an heiress to pass her powers on to, and then that girl would take the old woman's place at the council and rule for the next generation."

(So?)

"… Okay," Rinoa says. She shrugs. "What's that have to do with me?"

Adel holds up one finger.

"Being both heiresses and sorceresses at the same time gave these women a great deal of power," Adel says. "And that's part of the reason why Centra's civilization was able to succeed for so long. The council of sorceresses could work miracles, and no other nation could compete. But that's beside the point. Have you managed to guess where an heiress gets her powers from?"

"No," Rinoa says. "I never found out."

"It's quite simple," Adel says. "Heiresses are the daughters of sorceresses. My ancestors had this all figured out, and they knew everything about the subject, but the main point is this: if you conceive a child—a girl—while you are a sorceress, then that child will grow up to have the powers of an heiress. If it's a boy, then nothing special happens. In Centra, sons of sorceresses were often recruited to become Knights—protectors of the sorceresses—but they had no special powers."

"I still don't see…" Rinoa says.

"Allow me to step in," Ultimecia says. "You already know a great deal of what I have done. You know that I am an heiress and a sorceress. You know that I have traveled back through time using other heiresses as bridges to the past. And you also know that an heiress kannot konnect to a person that she doesn't know. So the question becomes, who sent me to your time?"

Rinoa pauses. The question has always been in the back of her mind, unasked, but she never thought it important enough to really consider. Who sent Ultimecia back from the next generation? It would have to be someone who knew Rinoa, Selphie, and Ciel. But with Ellone now dead, who remained who knew all three?

(It has to be someone I haven't met yet.)

"Would you like to know the heiress' name?" Ultimecia asks. Rinoa doesn't answer, but Ultimecia continues regardless. "Her given name is Julia Raine, named after both of her deceased grandmothers."

Rinoa's eyes snap to Ultimecia's and her heart stops for a moment.

(She's lying!)

"But she won't like the name 'Julia.' She'll be known as 'Raine' to all her friends," Ultimecia says. "That is what she'll kall herself when she first enkounters me. That will be the name they shout when I take her. I will kome to her time, as I have kome to yours. I will be seeking an heiress to bring me back further in time, so that I may komplete time kompression. And I will take your daughter for my purposes. Julia Raine Leonhart."

She says each name slowly, deliberately, with special emphasis on the last name.

"You're lying," Rinoa says. She shakes her head and takes a step back. "I don't believe you."

(A girl?)

(With Squall?)

(And then Ultimecia…)

It's too much information all at once. Her hopes for the future intermingle with her fears, causing havoc in her mind.

"I'm so glad you named her after Julia," Caraway says. His throat tightens. "She would have liked that."

"Shut up!" Rinoa shouts at him.

"Everything we do," Ellone says dreamily, "Serves Ultimecia's purposes. Even the act of living, of falling in love, of having children—even that works into her plans."

"You're not real!" Rinoa yells at Ellone. "You're not the real Ellone!"

(Ellone would never talk like that.)

(She'd never give up.)

(It's all a lie.)

Then does that mean that her daughter is a lie as well? Is there a Julia Raine Leonhart in the future, or is Ultimecia making it all up?

Ellone extends her hand towards Rinoa.

"I'm as real as you are," Ellone says.

"You're lying!" Rinoa shouts at Ultimecia. "I'm not falling for your tricks!"

"Think about it logikally," Ultimecia says. "Think about who I have chosen to possess so far. You already know that an heiress kan only konnect to people she knows. Of kourse, Julia Raine knows her mother, so possessing you is easy. Or it would be, if it weren't for that ring, interfering with the konnection. And Raine adores her Auntie Selphie, so that konnection is easy to form as well. And Ciel? Well, you may not know this yet, but Ciel is going to make a strong impression on your daughter. Strong enough to form a konnection."

"I still don't believe you," Rinoa says. She backs up until she bumps into the front doors. "I don't."

"I never possess the girl named Tomomi, because Julia Raine never knew her," Ultimecia says. "The same goes for the other sorceresses in the world. The ones you don't know about. Didn't you ever think that was odd, that I only seemed to possess sorceresses who were konnected to you? Didn't you wonder if maybe there wasn't something more to it?"

"I…" Rinoa says. Her voice dies in her throat. She had wondered about that before. She had just always assumed it was coincidence.

(There are no coincidences.)

"I'm going to kome for your daughter," Ultimecia says. She takes several slow steps forward. "Because that is what I do, and that is what I have always done. Akross generations, I have stretched my powers from one woman to the next, ascending the rungs of history—daughter to mother, mother to grandmother—turning families against each other, nations against each other, all to achieve my goals."

Ultimecia stops approaching when she is almost within arm's reach of Rinoa. Rinoa can feel her breath on her skin as she talks.

"Your daughter is going to fight, of course," Ultimecia says. "Because she is too much like her parents to simply allow me to win. But she will lose that fight. And so will the girl after her, and the one after her, and after her. For hundreds of years, women and young girls will try to fight me, to slow me down, to try to undo everything I have done. And they will all fail. SeeD will bekome more and more powerful as it gathers strength to itself, all in an effort to stop me. And they, too, will fail in the end. The future you will kreate will inevitably spawn endless wars and suffering, and eventually I will be born from all this konflict and death."

Ultimecia smiles. She reaches out to touch Rinoa's face, but Rinoa pulls away. "You are my maker," Ultimecia says. "My powers kome from you, the world I will be born into was forged by your choices. I am the result of everything you have ever done or ever will do. I am your descendent. I am your heiress. You may deny the world around you, but you kannot deny that."

(I…)

She stares into Ultimecia's dark, soulless eyes.

"Everything we do…" Ellone says.

And then Caraway, Ellone, and Adel speak as one, saying, "… Serves Ultimecia."

"It's hopeless," Ellone says. "It's always been hopeless."

"Stay here, with us," Caraway says. "Your mother is waiting. She wants to see you."

"Be quiet…" Rinoa says, but her words have no strength, no authority.

"You'll become like me," Adel says, with a wicked grin. "You know, I was a child once, too. But a lot can change over time. You don't know what will happen to you, or how it will affect you. The power of the Fount will change your mind. You'll see."

"I'm not like you," Rinoa growls at Adel. She meets Ultimecia's icy stare. "I'm not like you."

(I'm not like Adel.)

(I'm not like Ultimecia.)

"Ask the Galbadian soldiers you've killed," General Caraway says. He takes a step forward. "Ask the soldiers who were stationed on the north ridge of Esthar. Ask them what the difference is between you, Adel, and Ultimecia. As they were thrown off the cliffs to their deaths. As their bodies were buried under a mountain of dirt. Ask them how different you are."

"It's not…" Rinoa says. "It's…"

(It's not the same.)

(It is the same.)

"I have seen enough of your past to know who you are," Ultimecia says. "You are a fighter. Even when it is hopeless, or pointless, or foolish to fight, you fight anyway. You joined a resistance group in a nation that has nothing to do with you. The boy you profess to love is the leader of the largest mercenary force in the world. All of your friends have fought and killed—sometimes for the things they believe in, and sometimes only because they were ordered to do so. Your father was the General in charge of the world's largest military force. Violence surrounds you. Konflict surges in your blood. Do you honestly believe that you will ever know peace in your lifetime? If so, then you are the greatest fool I have ever known."

Rinoa cannot process an answer, and Ultimecia presses her point.

"You kannot abandon your sorceress powers because you kannot bear the thought of being a burden upon others," Ultimecia says. "You will not stand idly by and watch suffering and injustice take place. So you will keep your powers with the intent to use them to help others. To show your own worth to the world. And eventually, you will be kalled upon to use those powers. And when you are kalled, you will answer. That is who you are."

Rinoa turns away, unable to meet Ultimecia's gaze.
(She's right.)

(About that much, at least.)

"No matter what you do," Ultimecia says. "Innocent people will die bekause of your choices. If you choose to fight, then Galbadians will die. If you choose to abandon the power, then Estharians will die. You don't need me to tell you this; you already know this is true."

"I know…" Rinoa says in a small voice. She still cannot look at Ultimecia, or anyone else in the room.

"You will always be a monster in someone's eyes," Ultimecia says. "That is the kurse of being a sorceress. You will be hated and feared regardless of your actions."

"I know," Rinoa says.

(I've always known that.)

(Ever since the day I became a sorceress.)

Memories flash across her mind. Of being alone with Squall aboard the Ragnarok and confessing that she has become a sorceress. Of sitting in his lap with her head on his chest and her arms around his neck. Of him coming for her, breaking her out of the Sorceress Memorial and taking her away from Esthar. Of her friends, Selphie, Zell, Irvine, Quistis. Maybe the rest of the world fears her—and would always fear her. But her friends never did. They never treated her like a monster.

(And they never will.)

Rinoa raises her head. She clenches her teeth and meets Ultimecia's gaze, unafraid. "I know I'll be hated," she says. "But I'm okay with that. As long as I can protect the people I love, then I don't care what the rest of the world thinks of me."

To Rinoa's surprise, Ultimecia's grin does not fade, but instead widens.

"Good," Ultimecia says. "That is what I wanted to hear. Now tell me, how much of the world are you willing to destroy in order to save your friends?"

"I… what?" Rinoa asks.

"If you are truly indifferent about the rest of the world, then this question should be simple," Ultimecia says. "You should of kourse answer with, 'all of it.' You are willing to sakrifice all of the world to save your friends. And if you are not willing to sakrifice the world, then what are you willing to sakrifice? A kontinent's worth of people? A nation's worth? A city's worth? Kan you give me an exact number of lives that you think is equivalent to the value of even just one of your friends?"

Rinoa shakes her head. "No! Of course not."

"Then you are in denial," Ultimecia says. "Your boy, the one with the skar and the gunblade. He is going to die if you do not fight. If Galbadia is not stopped, they will overrun Esthar. They will konquer that nation and they will find your boy and they will kill him. In order to save him, you must kill Galbadians. How many of their lives are worth sakrificing to save his?"

"I… I don't…" Rinoa's eyes slip away from Ultimecia's. Her confidence waivers.

"Do you think that those soldiers you kill are all unloved orphans?" Ultimecia asks. "Do you think that they do not have families, lives, brothers and sisters? Do you think that they do not have dreams, or do you simply not kare if they do?"

"Heath might be there," General Caraway says. "He might be on the front lines even. The boy from the lake house. The one from your childhood. Can you kill him?"

"Stop…" Rinoa says.

"I will stop," Ultimecia says, "When you kan tell me why the life of your boy is worth more than the lives of anyone else."

"Because I love him," Rinoa says abruptly. "That's all. I can't explain it any better than that."

"You don't have to explain it," Ultimecia says with a shrug. "I simply wanted you to admit it. You are not a hero. You are not unique. You are the same as everyone else. You will make selfish, short-sighted choices to protect the people and the things you value, and the rest of the world will suffer because of your choices. And yet, despite knowing this, you continue to insist that you and I have nothing in kommon. It's laughable."

(I'm not like Adel.)

(I'm not like Ultimecia.)

Rinoa takes a breath. The fear and the confusion melt away to anger. She focuses her gaze on Ultimecia and—by the sheer force of her will alone—manages to finally knock the smile off the sorceress' face. Energy comes off of Rinoa in waves, forcing Ultimecia to take a step backwards. General Caraway narrows his eyes at his daughter. Ellone shrinks away and retreats to the steps. Adel crosses her arms glares.

"No," Rinoa says firmly.

"Denial will not save you," Ultimecia says. "Your actions—"

"SHUT UP!" Rinoa shouts. The door behind her shudders on its hinges. The chandelier above her shakes, producing a crystalline sound. Adel, Ellone, Caraway—and even Ultimecia—take a step backwards.

"It's not me," Rinoa says. Instead of suppressing the anger, she feeds it. Allows it to grow. "It's not MY choices that will kill people. It's YOU! It's ALWAYS BEEN YOU! IT'S ALL YOUR FAULT!"

Rinoa clenches her fists. The walls begin to shake and crack, the paint peeling off in long flakes. The staircase begins to crumble, and the blood red carpet softens and becomes liquefied.

Ultimecia snarls and takes a step forward. With a slash of her hand, she throws the paint back onto the walls, fixes the staircase, and solidifies the floor. She reasserts her will upon the world.

"This world is mine," Ultimecia snarls. "I kreated it. I own it. I will live forever inside of it. You have no power here, girl."

"FINE!" Rinoa shouts, and she pushes her will against Ultimecia's. "If you want this stupid world, you CAN HAVE IT!"

With the force of an exploding bomb, Rinoa's willpower slams into the walls of the castle and into the ceiling. The statues are thrown straight backwards, punching holes through the walls. The chandelier is sent crashing through the roof. Caraway, Adel, and Ellone are blown to nothing but particles. The ornate stairs shatter into dust, and the sturdy castle walls crumble, revealing infinite white space in all directions.

Rinoa shouts again, knocking Ultimecia onto the nonexistent floor and scattering away the last remnants of the castle. There is nothing left but the empty white void, Rinoa, and Ultimecia.

Rinoa stands there, panting for a few seconds, triumphant rage coursing through her veins, making her half mad. She looks down at Ultimecia and prepares one final attack, the one that will blast away Ultimecia for good.

Ultimecia gets up on one elbow, then sits up. She looks up at Rinoa with tired eyes, her mocking good humor gone, her arrogance gone. Everything is gone.

"Where's your stupid illusions now?" Rinoa asks.

"You will never know what was truth and what was illusion," Ultimecia says. "But I assure you, it was a mix of both. So go. Go and live your life and decide your fate. By the time you realize the truth, it will be too late."

"SHUT UP!" Rinoa shouts and a slash of her arm she blasts away Ultimecia into diamond-shaped fragments that scatter on the floor like broken glass. The fragments dissolve into nothing, and Rinoa is left alone in the white void.

(No… not alone.)

With a glance over her shoulder, Rinoa sees that Ciel is there, huddled in the distance. She's on her knees, her body hunched over until her forehead is almost resting on the floor. Her hands clutch either side of her head, and she is visibly shaking.

"No… no… no…" Ciel mutters again and again.

Rinoa rushes over to her and kneels beside her, placing her hands on Ciel's shoulders.

"Come on," Rinoa says. "We're getting out of here."

"No… no… no…" Ciel says again.

(Oh, come on…)

(It can't have been worse than what I saw.)

Rinoa sits back on her haunches and thinks about how to escape the void. She quickly realizes that it can't have been anything she has done. After all, none of Rinoa's powers ever sent anyone into time compression before. And the Fount can't be to blame, because otherwise Rinoa would have gone into time compression immediately after absorbing the power. And maybe the Ragnarok could be to blame, but Rinoa had the feeling that—in this case at least—it wasn't the spaceship's fault.

Ciel is the only unexplained variable. Something about her power allows her to connect to other people, perhaps in a manner similar to the way Ellone does. Maybe that was enough to send them both to time compression. And if that was true…

"… Then she has to be the way out too," Rinoa says. She looks down at Ciel.

Ciel is still in no condition to help herself or anyone else. Whether she is still trapped in one of Ultimecia's illusions or simply too scarred by what she has seen to function, Rinoa cannot tell. But either way, it is obvious that Rinoa would have to take the lead.

(I hope this works…)

Rinoa closes her eyes and sets one hand on Ciel's shaking shoulder. She focuses on her memories—of Squall, of Garden, of the Ragnarok, of anything that comes to mind. She thinks these thoughts and reaches out to Ciel with her mind, trying to form a connection.

With an almost audible "click," something connects together in Rinoa's mind and—

—She opened her eyes inside the Ragnarok cockpit.

The torrential power of Hyne's Fount once again flowed through her, but while before it was like a foreign invader, an intrusive energy forcing itself upon her, now it felt like a part of her. Like an equal. She no longer felt overwhelmed by the power of the Fount. Rather, she almost wished she had more of it. Ciel stood in front of her, her eyes downcast and her face slackened.

(How long were we gone?)

She spun around and faced the front window, peering out into the distance. The sparkling city of Esthar had been replaced by endless blue water in all directions. The sun had dipped lower on the horizon and turned a fiery red. Less than an hour of daylight remained. Rinoa's heart sank.

(We've gone too far.)

(We're out in the ocean now.)

The pilot, still under Ciel's command, mindlessly continued to fly westward, fleeing the battle of Esthar, and inadvertently preventing Rinoa from assisting the Esthar army.

"We have to turn around," Rinoa said to Ciel. Ciel released her grip on Rinoa's arm and slumped down the floor, her hands in her lap, her sunken eyes staring blankly into nothing. Rinoa continued, "We have to go back to Esthar."

But Ciel didn't respond. Rinoa knelt down beside her and placed both hands on Ciel's shoulders, trying to turn the blonde girl's head and force eye contact, but Ciel sat limply like a doll.

"Make the pilot turn around," Rinoa said, slowly and clearly.

Ciel, her eyes still open, allowed her head to fall onto her shoulder. Rinoa grimaced and stood up.

(If she won't do it, then I'll do it.)

Rinoa turned around and headed to the front of the bridge. She only had a vague idea of how to pilot the ship—only Selphie and Zell really had any practical experience with it. But she had seen the others fly it enough times, so she had an idea of how it worked.

(I know enough to be able to turn it around at least.)

She stepped up alongside the pilot. He stared blankly ahead, his face obscured behind an Esthar soldier's helmet, his hands resting on the controls, making small, steady adjustments to keep the ship on course. Rinoa grabbed one of his hands and tried to pull him off, but his fingers suddenly tightened around the control stick. He didn't say anything or fight back; he simply refused to be moved.

(I don't have time for this.)

With a flick of her wrist, Rinoa struck the soldier with a sleep spell. The soldier's hands and arms went limp, and he released the controls and slumped over to the side, falling on the floor a thump, but not landing roughly enough to wake himself. Rinoa quickly took his seat and grabbed the controls.

As soon as she looked out the window, she saw missiles streaking through the air, flashes of light where they struck, and gray ships crowding the horizon ahead of her. Amidst the chaos and the fighting, she saw two enormous buildings drifting through the sea—one blue and one red. Their size and shapes were unmistakable.

(The Gardens!)

All at once, she realized that she and Ciel had accidentally stumbled on the site of the battle between Galbadia's navy and Esthar's. Although the fighting was as fierce out in the sea as it was back in the streets of Esthar, it's a lot more organized and understandable. The Galbadian ships were clearly marked, making them visible, easy targets. Furthermore, she didn't have to worry about any collateral damage with nearby buildings or civilians. So long as she didn't hit an Esthar boat, there was nothing around but the Galbadians, the Gardens, and the sea.

She tightened her grip on the controls. Maybe she couldn't stop the battle in Esthar, and maybe she wasn't meant to. Maybe even the power of Hyne's Fount wasn't enough to change the course of the overall war. But she could change this battle. She could save Garden, and Esthar's fleet as well.

Instead of turning around, she leaned forward, pushing against the controls, urging more speed out of the spaceship. Memories of Ultimecia's voice taunted her as she proceeded.

("You are not unique.")

("You are the same as everyone else.")

"Shut up," Rinoa said to no one in particular. She could not tell if Ultimecia was speaking directly into her mind, or if the memory of Ultimecia's voice was so clear that she could recall it perfectly. Either way, images of her encounter in time compression, of her argument with Ultimecia, flashed across her eyes, distorting her focus, weakening her resolve to fight.

("You will make selfish, short-sighted choices to protect the people and the things you value…")

("… And the rest of the world will suffer because of your choices.")

"I said shut up," Rinoa said, tightening her grip on the controls until her fingers ached and her forearms cramped.

As she drew closer to the outskirts of the battle, Rinoa realized that there was a flaw in her plan. The Ragnarok was equipped with missiles and machine guns, but in order to operate them, one had to sit in the special gunner's chair on the side of the bridge. She turned in her seat, glancing at the empty chair and wondering if there was some way she could operate the guns and fly at the same time. Given the wide array of buttons, levers, and switches spread out before her, she was sure that an experienced pilot could control all of the Ragnarok's systems directly from the pilot's seat.

She, however, was not an experienced pilot. Or even an amateur one.

She glanced over her shoulder, wondering if she might enlist Ciel's help, but the girl had crawled to the far corner of the bridge, her back against the wall and her knees drawn up to her chest. Rinoa sighed.

(At least she's awake.)

Rinoa had worried for a moment that Ciel had not made the trip back to the present—that a piece of her had been stuck in time compression. But if Ciel had the presence of mind to withdraw to the corner, that meant that she was at least somewhat aware of her surroundings. She wasn't comatose like Squall had been before.

(Not that it makes a lot of difference right now.)

Whatever Ciel's condition, it was up to Rinoa to figure out what to do next. She was soon within firing range of the ships, and had to make a decision. One of the Galbadian vessels—a hulking gray battleship with an array of guns across the deck—noticed the Ragnarok streaking through the sky and turned its attention on Rinoa. The guns opened fire, booming from below.

Unconsciously, Rinoa took one hand off the controls and pointed her palm at the incoming shots, creating a shield that encased the whole of the Ragnarok, deflecting the attacks around the ship. With the power of the Fount suffusing her, protecting the Ragnarok from incoming fire was as easy as using her hand to shield a flickering candle flame from a breeze. It was so easy, in fact, that Rinoa barely even had to concentrate on it—allowing her to do other things at the same time.

(I know how to fight back.)

She piloted the Ragnarok until it was flying directly above the sea battle. By then, several of the Galbadian ships had taken notice of the spaceship and turned their guns upon her. Their artillery bounced harmlessly off her transparent shield, either exploding uselessly in the air or deflecting off into the distance.

Once she was in position, Rinoa released the controls, allowing the ship to hover in place. With one hand maintaining the shield, she raised her other hand and focused, drawing a spell with the point of her finger. She aimed at the nearest ship and took a breath.

("Do you think that those soldiers you kill are all unloved orphans?")

Rinoa cursed at the distraction and muttered under her breath. But regardless of Ultimecia's madness and her lies, she had a point in this case. There was no sense in wantonly destroying everyone and everything associated with Galbadia. In fact, she had so much power that she didn't even need to destroy the Galbadian fleet. She could just as easily cripple it, render it harmless.

So she drew back on her attack. Instead of launching a devastating burst of energy that would have obliterated the ship, she narrowed her focus, blasting a wide, steady beam across the bottom of the ship, just below the water line.

The steel exterior of the ship tore open like a tin can, letting water gush in through the side. Rinoa continued to trace a path of destruction across the broad side of the ship until she had ripped a gash from end to end. Soldiers on deck scrambled. They quickly realized the extent of the damage and began to evacuate to their lifeboats. The ship began listing to one side as it took in water, then leveled out again once the water began to fill up the ship. It was sinking fast—but not so fast that the crew aboard would be doomed to drown.

(I can do this.)

(I can stop the fighting without killing people.)

Smirking in triumph because she had found a loophole to escape Ultimecia's argument, Rinoa looked and found another ship. She shot out a long, narrow beam and sliced this one open the same way she had with the first.

With two ships now ruined, the Galbadian Navy realized that this spaceship in the sky was their new biggest threat. Almost every gun in the entire fleet focused on Rinoa, blasting away at her shield—but accomplishing nothing. Rinoa barely even felt the strain of their attacks as she continued to sink every ship in the fleet, one by one.

Even though there was a massive number of ships in the fleet, she made quick work of them. Once she got into a rhythm, she could slice open a ship in five seconds. The she locate another target and quickly dismantle it as well—sinking about ten to twenty ships every minute. It was obvious to her now how Adel had managed to single-handedly conquer Esthar and inspire so much terror that the citizens of Esthar would rather go to war than disobey her. The power of the Fount was staggering.

Within ten minutes, the Galbadian fleet was a shadow of its former self. The sea was filled with tiny metal lifeboats, each one stuffed to capacity with waterlogged Galbadian soldiers. The Esthar navy had altered their focus, changing from assaulting the Galbadian ships to rounding up and capturing all the lifeboats in the sea. Other Galbadian ships tried to rush in to recover their drifting allies before the Esthar soldiers could catch them, but Rinoa quickly identified these rescue ships and sunk them before they could help, filling the ocean with more helpless lifeboats.

When it was clear that Galbadia could not stop the threat in the skies, the remaining Galbadian ships—a scant two dozen at best—turned around and fled to the west. The hulking red mass of Galbadia Garden stayed in place, parked beside Balamb Garden, neither of them moving. The torrent of bullets and artillery that had been assaulting Rinoa shield since she arrived began to slacken, then stopped entirely. After a few seconds, Rinoa felt confident enough to lower the shield entirely. She sank back into her chair and sighed.

(I did it.)

Her eyes widened as the magnitude of her actions struck her. She had just utterly demolished the largest navy in the world. And what's more, she wasn't even tired. She could feel the impossible energy of the Fount still coursing in her body, barely diminished despite all her exertions.

(This power is incredible.)

"How did you do that?" Ciel asked from beside Rinoa. Rinoa jumped in her seat, then turned to look. Ciel was standing there, her arms wrapped tightly around herself, her eyes still sunken and distant—but at least focused now. She stared out the window, looking at the remnants of Rinoa's destruction.

"You couldn't do that before," Ciel said.

"It's…" Rinoa said. She scratched her face with one finger. "It's hard to explain."

Without warning, Ciel stepped closer to Rinoa and thrust her hand out. Rinoa flinched back, for a moment expecting Ciel to try to possess her once again. But Ciel's hand stopped and hovered a short distance in front of Rinoa's eyes and drew no closer.

"I don't wanna be a sorceress anymore," Ciel said softly. "Take my power. Please."

Rinoa looked at Ciel's outstretched hand, then up into the girl's eyes. She saw fear there, concern, and endless weariness. Rinoa met her gaze for several seconds, then gently took Ciel's hand in both of hers.

"It's not all bad," Rinoa said. "You can do a lot with your powers."

"I know," Ciel said. She turned her eyes away from Rinoa and stared out into the ocean. "That's what I'm worried about. Doing a lot with my powers."

Rinoa squeezed Ciel's hand. "I don't know what Ultimecia showed you, but it was a lie. A lie that was supposed to make you doubt yourself. Don't let her win."

("And I will take your daughter for my purposes.")

Rinoa shook the memory out of her head.

"It wasn't a lie," Ciel said. She continued to stare out to sea. "She showed me what I'd already done with my powers. All the things I did. All the people I hurt. That's all she needed to do. Show me what I am."

"You can change," Rinoa said. "You always have a choice."

"This is my choice," Ciel said. With Rinoa's hands still gripping hers, Ciel pushed her fist closer to Rinoa, as if offering it to her. "Take my powers. I don't want them."

Rinoa pushed her hand away. "You'll regret this. Ask me again in a month. No, just a week. Give yourself time to figure this out and get used to—"

"No!" Ciel said, shaking her head. "I just… I just wanna be me again."

Thinking back, Rinoa realized that she'd gone through a similar process when she first became a sorceress. She had doubts, she had fears. Her first idea was to allow herself to be locked in the Sorceress Memorial, sealing herself away from the rest of the world to protect everyone from herself. Wasn't Ciel asking for almost the same thing? To have her powers taken away so she couldn't hurt anyone?

No, Rinoa realized. It wasn't the same. Rinoa hadn't immediately accepted her powers, but had accepted the fact that they were now hers. She understood that being a sorceress was now a key part of her identity. She had become the Sorceress Rinoa. Even the people in Esthar called her that.

But Ciel didn't see it that way. She said that she wanted to be herself again, as if being a sorceress was not who she was. She didn't see her powers as a part of her identity; she saw them as something outside of her, like a new set of clothes or a different hairstyle. Something that could be taken off or changed at will. She didn't accept her powers—and she might never accept them.

"It took me a while to get used to my powers too," Rinoa said. "But if you—"

"I don't care!" Ciel snapped. She turned her head and locked eyes with Rinoa. "Take my powers. I don't want them! Get it out of me!"

"Fine, fine," Rinoa said, lifting one hand to try to try to calm her. "If that's what you really want. But I can't undo it, you know. Once I take your powers, they become mine. I can't give you your half back. It doesn't work that way."

"Good," Ciel said softly. "That means I won't be able to change my mind."

Rinoa sighed. She didn't understand this girl. Well, she understood her feelings of confusion, but she did not understand her hatred of her own powers. For Rinoa, being a sorceress had always been a mix of both good and bad. For Ciel, it seemed there was nothing good at all.

(Being a sorceress isn't that terrible.)

Rinoa frowned.

(Or maybe it is. Maybe I'm just used to it.)

Rinoa sighed again and opened herself up mentally to the other girl. Ciel closed her eyes and focused. Even though no one had ever taught them how to exchange sorceress powers, they both knew the process intimately. Somehow this knowledge came with the powers themselves. Ciel released her control of her powers and—with an almost electric charge—they flowed down Ciel's arm and into Rinoa. Rinoa felt Ciel's energy mix in with her own, like two glasses of water poured into the same container. Within seconds, it was impossible to tell what power had come from where.

And then it was over. Ciel let out a breath, then released Rinoa's hands and stepped back. She didn't say thanks—or anything at all. She stepped back into the gunner's chair and flopped down. She put her elbow on the armrest and raised her hand to her eyes, looking exhausted beyond words. Rinoa watched her with concern in her eyes.

(Did I do the right thing?)

"Ragnarok," a speaker on the control panel said. "Ragnarok, come in."

Rinoa jumped at the sudden intrusion, and the rest of the world came back into focus. She remembered the battle in the sea, and the battle back to the east in Esthar. Adrenaline shot through her.

(Oh, no! I have to get back!)

"Ragnarok, respond," the speaker said.

Rinoa looked all over the control panel, but the buttons were all marked with symbols and abbreviations, none of them clearly noted as the "talk" button.

"Ragnarok, do you read?" the speaker said.

"I'm here!" Rinoa said to the speaker, hoping that it understood. "I read!"

"Ragnarok, if you can hear this," the speaker said, "Then be aware of Galbadia Garden. We have received word that a contingent of SeeDs, a rogue sorceress, as well as the Galbadian President are on board. If we can capture the President, we may be able to end this war. Render assistance if possible."

(End the war?)

And all she would have to do was capture the President? It almost seemed too easy. Even with the threat of a rogue sorceress, Rinoa wasn't intimidated. With the power of Hyne's Fount on her side, Rinoa knew that any sorceress—or even a dozen sorceresses—would not be able to stop her.

(I can do this.)

She felt her memories of Ultimecia's castle—and the things the sorceress had said to her within time compression—trying to bubble up to the surface of her mind again, but she fought them down. She placed both hands on the controls and found the hulking mass of Galbadia Garden in the distance.

Strangely enough, G-Garden had not moved at all. It sat still in the water, while a half dozen Esthar ships circled it like sharks.

(Why aren't they trying to get away?)

And then, as she drew closer to the school, another problem crossed Rinoa's mind.

(How am I going to land this?)

And right away, she realized that the Fount provided the answer once again. She had already flown across the city of Esthar. Making the jump from the Ragnarok to Galbadia Garden would be comparatively simple.

She released the controls, allowing the ship to hover. She spun out of the chair and got to her feet. Ciel was still in the gunner's chair, staring blankly at nothing. The sleeping Esthar soldier was collapsed on the floor, breathing gently through his face mask.

"I'm going out," Rinoa said to Ciel. "Will you be okay?"

Ciel nodded slightly. Rinoa dashed to the elevator at the back of the bridge and rode it down to the lower level. She headed through the hallways and down the stairs until she got to the loading bay. Once there, she punched a button on the nearby control panel and opened the loading doors.

Thin, howling wind rushed through the opening, whipping roughly at Rinoa's hair and clothes. At her altitude, she found it nearly difficult to breathe and quickly grew lightheaded. She focused for a second, slowing down the wind around her and creating a sort of bubble. Within the bubble, she compressed the air, making it more like the stuff she was accustomed to at lower altitudes. She took a breath, then dashed straight ahead and leaped out into space.

She could feel the wings of energy burst from her back as soon as she was airborne. Fearlessly, she angled herself downward until her head was directly below her body. She tucked her arms and legs together, making herself into a plummeting bullet. She used her magic to control the winds around her, making the air calm and stable. She could feel the sensation of falling, but within the protection of her bubble, the wind and the altitude had no effect on her.

When she was two dozen stories above the fleeing school, she pulled back, swinging her legs beneath her and unfurling her luminescent wings. She began slowing instantly. With one hand maintaining her shield—in case any Galbadians took a shot at her—she thrust out her other hand and created a beam of pure energy that she used to carve a circular hole in the red ceiling of Galbadia Garden. The metal roof shrieked as it melted, then fell away, allowing Rinoa to drop down inside the school.

She landed in the very heart of the school—the central hub where all the hallways on the first and second floor joined together. Her boots clicked on the sigil of Galbadia Garden that was emblazoned on the floor.

All around her was destruction. It was obvious that this had been the scene of a devastating battle a few minutes earlier. Bodies of Galbadian soldiers and Galbadian students were draped behind makeshift barricades made of desks and tables. A handful of SeeDs were among the casualties, lying in their blood or in their charred uniforms. The smell was horrible, like rust and burned flesh. She covered her nose with her hand and looked around.

She didn't see anyone—or at least, not anyone alive—but she heard fighting down the hall on the second floor. With a nearly effortless push, she leapt up onto the second floor walkway and landed gracefully on the hard surface. She heard gunfire and magic and screams. To protect herself from any stray bullets, she quickly encased herself in a shield and jogged down the hallway.

Through another large room and up and then down a short flight of steps, a cluster of SeeDs had gathered on both sides of a blackened doorway. They had created a makeshift base there, attending to the wounded, recovering their supplies, and organizing themselves for their next attack. Through the doorway, Rinoa could see flashes of light and licks of flame, followed by automatic gunfire and screams. She charged through the SeeD base—aware that every eye was following her—and dashed inside Galbadia Garden's auditorium.

If Rinoa hadn't previously visited this room when she, Squall, and the others had fought Edea, she might never have guessed that it was once an auditorium. The seats were nearly all gone, replaced by blackened craters and lumps of burning fabric. The front stage was a collapsed heap of wood and metal, filled with bullet holes and broken Galbadian robots. Everywhere there was fire and patches of ice and warped metal and burn marks.

Ducking behind a large pile of debris was Quistis, along with a handful of other SeeDs. She was shouting orders at her companions, struggling to be heard over the sounds of bullets and explosions. She saw Rinoa run into the room and their eyes met. Quistis' face slackened with shock. Rinoa looked away and scanned the room.

(Where's this "rogue sorceress?")

Finding her wasn't hard. Rinoa stopped running when she got to the middle of the room, allowing the bullets and explosions to bounce harmlessly off her shield, and turned to the side of the auditorium opposite from where Quistis was hiding.

There was a pale girl with short, black hair and glasses, tucked behind a semicircle of Galbadian robots. Rinoa had only seen her a few times, but she recognized Mireya quickly.

(She's the rogue sorceress?)

After everything she had done to harass, capture, or kill Rinoa, Mireya had suddenly had a complete reversal and was now a sorceress? Rinoa found it hard to believe, and for a moment she feared that Ultimecia had returned, forcing Mireya to act against her will.

But after a couple seconds of observing her enemy, Rinoa realized that that couldn't be true. Mireya was obviously still Mireya. She didn't have the cold, aged stare of a hardened mass killer. Her face wasn't twisted in a mask of rage—instead it was slack in an expression of calm focus. And she wasn't shouting anything about "death to SeeDs" or anything similar.

Using arm-mounted machine guns and small missiles launched from their backs, the robots surrounding Mireya turned to Rinoa and unloaded their arsenals upon her. Rinoa stood for a couple of seconds, accepting the onslaught casually, allowing Mireya to focus completely on her and ignore the other SeeDs in the room. Then Rinoa raised one hand and swept it horizontally across her body, clearing away the entire semicircle of robots in one sweep of wind, like pushing toys off a table.

The robots, still mindlessly firing, slammed into the far wall, crushing each other and blowing holes in each other with their weapons. They landed in an awkward heap, legs kicking in the air and arms jerking around, trying vainly to break free.

Mireya stood alone, completely exposed. Yet she did not give up. She narrowed her eyes and thrust one hand forward, releasing a devastating lightning bolt.

Rinoa caught it in one hand and barely even felt it. She clenched her fist, absorbing the attack, then fired it back upon the other sorceress, but with ten times the force. The girl's eyes widened and she crossed her arms in front of her head to deflect the attack, but even still, she was blown back to the wall, her glasses thrown from her face and smashed against a pile of rubble.

Grunting, Mireya dropped to her knees. Rinoa approached calmly, steadily. Mireya ground her teeth, then used both hands to launch simultaneous fire spells at Rinoa. Rinoa caught them both and extinguished them, almost bored with how easily she was overpowering her foe.

Before Mireya could line up a third attack, Rinoa quickly rushed forward, using her wings to propel her. She grabbed Mireya by both shoulders and slammed her against the wall, pinning her roughly with her feet dangling while Rinoa hovered in place.

"Kill me," Mireya said, glaring coldly into Rinoa's eyes.

"No," Rinoa said.

Rinoa closed her eyes and focused on Mireya. Using the power of the Fount, she heightened her senses until she became hyper aware of every sound, every sensation. She could feel the beating of Mireya's heart through her skin. She could feel every individual thread in Mireya's uniform. She sensed the wounds in Mireya's body—minor burns and cuts that she hadn't wasted time trying to heal.

And she felt the intangible energy that composed her sorceress powers. It glowed in her mind like a tiny sun, easy for Rinoa to find. She reached out with her mind, encircling this orb of energy, encasing it—imprisoning it. Then with a quick snap of willpower, she tore it out of Mireya and drew it into herself.

Mireya choked and groaned, her arms and legs twitching spastically. Within a couple seconds, it was over. Mireya went limp in Rinoa's grasp, and Rinoa flew backwards a pace, allowing the other girl to drop to the floor, only semiconscious. Nearby, the Galbadian robots—no longer controlled by Mireya's willpower, ceased their struggles and powered down. Rinoa furled her wings and landed on the charred floor, then turned around.

Quistis and her cohorts tentatively emerged from their hiding places all around the room. The students outside poked their heads through the doorway, trying to get a peek at what was happening. Their eyes widened with shock and undisguised terror as they looked at Rinoa and saw what she had accomplished in mere seconds.

Quistis hurried through the rubble, jumping over piles of what once were chairs, and threading her way until she got to Rinoa. She reached out to touch Rinoa's arm, then drew her hand back.

"Rinoa…" Quistis said. She looked into Rinoa's eyes. "What…"

Rinoa looked around at the other SeeDs. She could hear them whispering to each other. She saw the mistrustful glances, the narrowed eyes. Even though she had just stopped the battle and saved possibly all their lives, they stood on the other side of the room like she was carrying a contagious disease.

("You will always be a monster in someone's eyes.)

("You will be hated and feared regardless of your actions.")

Before Quistis could say anything else, Rinoa asked, "Is President Martine here? I heard he was."

Quistis hesitated, looking Rinoa up and down for a second, then nodded, her lips pursed.

"Yes," Quistis said. "He's taken refuge in the detention center with some of the soldiers. We took the bridge and the controls, but we haven't been able to clear him out."

"Where's the detention center?" Rinoa asked.

Quistis turned and pointed. "On the first floor, down a hallway and to the right."

"Got it," Rinoa said.

Ignoring the stares all around her, she leaned forward and took off in flight again. If she was going to frighten the students no matter what she did, then she may as well impress them while she did. The students crowded around the doorway jumped back as she burst out of the auditorium and hurtled down the hallway. She flew into the central area of G-Garden, dropped down to the first floor, and found the hallway that Quistis had indicated and followed it to the end.

At an intersection near the edge of the school, a half dozen SeeDs were gathered in a staging area, taking turns exchanging gunfire and magic with a group of Galbadians down the hall and out of sight. Rinoa slowed down and landed, then folded her wings behind her back.

One of the SeeDs saw her and panicked. The girl leapt to her feet, bringing a Galbadian rifle to her shoulder, and shot quickly. Rinoa waved the bullet aside and dashed forward, taking no offense at the girl's violent reaction.

"I'm on your side," Rinoa said as she ran past the cluster of SeeDs and into the hallway. The SeeDs watched her, but no one else tried to shoot her.

As soon as the Galbadians saw an easy target running down the hall, they unloaded with everything they had. But the Galbadian bullets had no more stopping power than a cloud of gnats for Rinoa. She ran down the hall, barely even aware of the soldiers attacking her, then ran right into their tiny encampment and blasted out a cyclone of wind. The soldiers were thrown into the walls, their weapons ripped from their hands. They landed on the floor hard, some moaning and mumbling, others immediately knocked unconscious. Rinoa left them for the SeeDs to take care of and continued on.

At the end of the hallway was a fortified door. Rinoa ran up to it and pushed, but it was locked. She shrugged, put her hand on the lock, and blasted the lock to pieces. The door warped and bent inward, then opened with a gentle push.

Rinoa was greeted with another hail of gunfire. Six soldiers and two students were in a hallway outside a long floor-to-ceiling pane of reinforced glass. Behind the glass was the detention center and President Martine. He stood up when he saw her, his mouth open.

(Got him.)

Rinoa flicked her hand, throwing the Galbadians backwards with a heavy rush of wind, then turned her focus on President Martine. She wasn't sure where the door was in the large single sheet of glass—and she was sure it was probably locked anyway—so she pressed her hand against the glass and, using a fire spell, quickly melted a circle wide enough for her to step through. The molten glass dripped on the floor. Rinoa stepped around the globs of glass and hopped into the detention center.

"N-No!" President Martine said. He stumbled backwards, tripping over his own feet as he hurried to press himself into the farthest corner. He reached into his large blue coat and pulled out a small pistol. Rinoa rolled her eyes and continued approaching.

He fired off three useless shots before Rinoa reached out and grabbed the barrel of his pistol and tore it out of his hands. She tossed it across the room contemptuously.

Behind her, SeeDs rushed into the room and began subduing the already stunned Galbadian soldiers and students. Rinoa met Martine's gaze.

"Call off the attack," Rinoa said, trying to be as intimidating as possible. "Pull your soldiers out of Esthar and go home. It's over. You've lost."

"Th-that's why you're here?" Martine said. He swallowed hard. "To…. negotiate?"

"Not to negotiate," Rinoa said. "I'm here to stop the war."

"But… you aren't going to kill me?" Martine asked, horror filling in his eyes.

Rinoa sighed.

"Not if you call off the attack," Rinoa said. "I promise to let you live. Just withdraw the troops in Esthar and stop this war."

Martine closed his eyes. He shook his head and said, regretfully, "I can't."

"You're the President," Rinoa said. She put a hand on her hip. "You can."

Martine shook his head again. He opened his eyes and looked to Rinoa.

"It's too late," he said. "As soon as it became clear that we were losing the battle inside G-Garden, I handed command authority over to Lieutenant General Vaschel, in case I got killed or captured. He's the only one who can withdraw the troops now."

"Where is he?" Rinoa asked.

"Deling City," Martine said. "He's giving commands by radio."

(Damn it…)

Rinoa was fast, but Deling City was half a world away. And even if she got to Galbadia, found Vaschel, and managed to subdue him, there was no guarantee that she would be able to convince him to call off the attack. If Vaschel was willing to die for his country rather than submit, then she would have effectively no leverage against him. And she knew that she couldn't just kill him either. Control of the military would just automatically be handed down to the next most powerful official—and on and on all the way to the lowest ranking soldiers.

"It's the truth, I swear," Martine said. "Please don't kill me."

Rinoa focused her gaze on him.

(He's actually frightened…)

His legs were shaking, his face was pale. His eyes were wide open and he was leaning backwards, his back pressed against the wall. Rinoa had never seen a man so terrified before in her life.

(No point scaring him for no reason.)

With a wave of her hand, she cast a sleep spell on the Galbadian President and turned out of the detention center. Capturing Martine did not stop the war, and chasing down the second in command wouldn't do anything either. If she was going to stop the war in Esthar, she was going to have to go there and fight it herself.

She had the power, she knew. After everything she had done, Hyne's Fount was still barely diminished within her. She had no doubt that she could fight the entirety of the war herself and still have energy left over.

But the question was, what would she have to do to stop the war? How many people would she have to kill?

("How many of their lives are worth sakrificing to save his?")

(But…)

(Maybe there's another way.)

Clinging on to this hope, she ran down the hallway, leaving the SeeDs to deal with the President and the other Galbadians. Once she was out in the main hall, she unfurled her wings once more and flew back into the central area of the school before shooting upwards and out of the same hole she had entered through.

By then the sun had almost completely set. The bright orange sky was filling with streaks of blue and black as the sun dipped below the horizon. Rinoa looked up, searching for the Ragnarok, but it was nowhere to be found.

(Did Ciel take it?)

(Or did the Esthar pilot wake up?)

She shrugged. It didn't really matter either way. Ciel and the Ragnarok were the least of her concerns, and she could fly to Esthar without the Ragnarok. She pointed herself east, leaned forward, and shot off back to the city.

At first, she simply used her talents with wind magic—coupled with the power of the Fount—to guide her eastward. She swept the wind away from her face, surrounding herself in a tight bubble where she barely felt any movement at all. But although she was traveling almost as fast as the Ragnarok, she knew it still wasn't enough. Daylight was fading fast, and every second lost was more dead Esthar soldiers, more of the country taken by the Galbadians.

So she drew upon the power of the Fount, allowing it to infuse her body and push her forward. A white glow surrounded her, and a tail of pure energy streaked behind her, like she was a star shooting across the ocean. There seemed to be no limit to how fast she could travel. She funneled more energy into flight, then more and more. Soon the ocean below her was a blur, waves on the horizon appearing ahead of her and then disappearing behind her as quickly as she saw them.

She startled herself when she saw the cliffs of the Esthar shoreline appear in front of her, almost as if they had teleported there. By the time she realized that she was traveling much too fast and would overshoot the city at this rate, she had already gone a good distance inland and was nearly at the mountains.

Reluctantly, she released the power of the Fount and the glow around her dimmed and became translucent. She reared up, putting her legs below her, and hovered, surveying the scene.

The last of Galbadia's forces were still working their way through the mountains, traveling along makeshift trails that had, by then, been worn wide and smooth by the passage of hundreds if not thousands of other vehicles. The G-Army had already put their biggest weapons on the front—their missiles, their Black Widows and such—leaving only a trail of infantry cars and support trucks in the back. Rinoa considered attacking them, but she realized that that wouldn't do much to stop the assault. Most of the soldiers in the mountains were for backup purposes only, and wouldn't engage unless the primary forces needed help.

She flew forward—dimly aware of a few bullets crackling past her—and headed for the city of Esthar, traveling just above the tops of the gray mountains.

If it weren't for the bullet holes and scorch marks on the outside of the wall of holographic panels, she might have accidentally crashed headfirst into Esthar's camouflage shield and died the most ignoble death possible. But Galbadia's path of destruction of the city gave her plenty of warning, allowing her to adjust her course and fly to the top of the wall of panels.

(Lucky…)

As almost an afterthought, she spun around and faced the back of the wall. From the back, there was no need for disguise, and the naked machinery of the holographic wall was exposed to the sight of the city, with all its metal pipes and wires. Rinoa looked to the southern horizon, as far as the wall extended, then shot out a narrow beam of energy, slicing along the bottom of the panel wall. She angled the cut so that the panels fell outward as they collapsed, falling into the mountains rather than back into the city.

She continued this cut from as far south as she could see all the way to as far north as she could see. As the panels fell, the Galbadian soldiers fled back into the mountains, escaping the destruction. The panels crashed with the sounds of thunder booming and glass shattering and metal screaming. The left behind ruins formed a heap of twisted metal and glass two stories high and all but impenetrable to the Galbadian forces.

Rinoa looked down at her handiwork and nodded.

(There. That'll cut them off from their supplies.)

Pleased, she spun around and headed into the city. Her massive display of power had not gone unnoticed, and all the rearguard soldiers had noticed the flying sorceress, realized that she was an enemy, and had focused all their fire on her. Their bullets and missiles continued to have no effect, even concentrated all at once on her. If anything, the attacks only served as a minor distraction, as the puff of exploding missiles and the pop of bursting bullets created a smoke screen around Rinoa that partially obscured her vision.

Even though their navy had been dealt a devastating blow and although they had now been cut off from retreat or backup, the soldiers at the fronts continued marching forward. Either they were unaware of the threat that Rinoa posed, or they were so assured of their victory that they were going to continue fighting, even after their losses.

By this time, the Esthar forces had been completely routed. There was no unified front anymore—rather just scattered pockets of lingering resistance, still fighting it out block by block as the intractable wave of Galbadians continued to march forward. Half a dozen Esthar soldiers behind one building, a dozen over there. Barely even an army at all.

But Esthar hadn't yet fallen. Rinoa had arrived in time.

The question was now, how could she stop the Galbadians? There were so few Esthar soldiers left in the streets that the issue of collateral damage was almost nonexistent. But still, she didn't want to unleash the full power of the Fount upon her enemies. She had seen what she could do against their fleet and against the holographic wall.

(And against other sorceresses…)

She knew, if she wanted to, she could utterly massacre the Galbadian soldiers. Let loose with the full power of Hyne's Fount and carve a path of destruction back through the Galbadian lines that would make the damage they had wrought look petty by comparison.

But she remembered the vision of Adel's past. She remembered the feeling as Adel embraced her own power, her own capacity for destruction. She could still see—in her mind's eye—the complete destruction of Adel's tribe.

Rinoa would not repeat such a massacre. Even if it was to save Esthar, or save Squall. She could not, in good conscience, eradicate thousands of lives. She had to find another way.

(So then what do I do?)

The Fount wanted to be used. She could feel it coursing under her skin, swirling in her guts and flowing through her mind. The Fount didn't care what Rinoa did, so long as she did something—and something spectacular.

She wished that she had inherited Mireya's ability to control machines, or Ciel's ability to control people. With either of those powers—plus the power of the Fount—she thought she could easily force the Galbadians to turn around and leave. Either take Galbadia's robot army and turn it against them or invade their minds and make them walk out of the city.

But for whatever reason, the rules of the succession of sorceresses did not work like that. Rinoa's powers were not altered or enhanced, or even noticeably improved. Whatever she was going to do, she would have to do it using her own abilities.

She began looking around, hoping to see something that would give her a clue as to what she could do. As she turned, her eyes went to the east, and to the hulking monolith that darkened the sky above Esthar.

(The Lunatic Pandora.)

She didn't know what she was doing, or what she was planning to do. But the Pandora had given her the power of the Fount. It had taken her, Squall, and the others to the future. It had called down monsters from the moon. And, more than anything else, it was big. An enormous monument that was staggering in its size and complexity. Surely something so powerful, so incredibly massive had to hold the secrets to saving Esthar.

She reached out with one hand and extended her powers towards the giant pillar in the sky. Then she brought it towards her, the sky monument hovering high above Esthar like a second city all of its own.

Panicked, the Galbadian soldiers below her divided their fire, some continuing to shoot at Rinoa in a vain attempt to stop her, while other fired wildly at the Pandora to make it stop moving. She realized, in the back of her mind, that most of the Galbadians probably had never seen the Pandora before, and would be terrified to see it—not only up close—but rushing towards them at speed.

(Good. Let 'em be scared.)

As the Pandora drew closer, she felt the power inside her linking up with it, connecting her to the Crystal Pillar within. Whereas before, this connection was crushing and suffocating, now it was welcome and almost pleasant. She didn't know if it was because she had drained off some of the power of the Fount, making this connection more bearable, or if she had simply become accustomed to the incredible power within her. In either case, she found herself calm and steady as the Pandora got close.

By the time it was almost close enough for Rinoa to throw a rock and strike its side, her connection with the pillar had increased to a near perfect level. She could see—or perhaps feel—the honeycomb of tunnels and caverns and elevator shafts that pierced the inside the colossal tower. She could sense the absence of life within—aside from a few monsters. She stopped the Pandora in place, then flew to the bottom of it, where a massive circular opening allowed the Pandora's engines to help keep it aloft. She turned up and into the opening, staring into a giant green sun. She didn't know if this light was part of the Crystal Pillar or part of the Esthar machinery that encased it. But she felt drawn to the light. Not knowing what else to do, she willingly succumbed to the peaceful glow inside the Pandora.

She flew until the green light completely swallowed her vision. Until she could see nothing but bright green in all directions. Until she could hear nothing but a low, thrumming sound echoing through her ears and down her spine. She had a massive amount of energy, but she knew the Pandora had more. Or, at least, it had access to more. It could connect to anywhere or anything, linking together distant times or even planets.

Lost inside this green energy, Rinoa began to sense the way the Crystal Pillar connected to the moon, to the source of Hyne's Fount, and to the future. She could feel threads of connections linking the Pandora to everything around her, as if every living thing was somehow bound to the Pillar.

And the lines began to blur. The lines between the moon and the planet. Between sorceresses and regular people. Between sorceresses and heiresses. Between individual people. Between the past and the present, man and woman, living and dead, forgotten and remembered.

It was all the same.

(It's all the same.)

It is all the same.

She saw the world compressed and uncompressed, all of time pushed into a single moment, while also stretched across infinity.

The magnitude of what Ultimecia has done with all her meddling through time finally strikes Rinoa. How could they have been so foolish, to allow Ultimecia to compress time? Did they not realize how tremendously this had altered the world? To cause time compression—to even allow it—was such a monstrous crime against nature that Rinoa is horrified that she had taken part in it.

Information flooded her brain, too quickly for her to have any hope of absorbing it. But she caught brief glimpses, momentary flashes of inspiration that left her just on the edge of total knowledge, of total understanding.

Dr. Odine is partially right. There is only one energy in the world. The energy of life, the energy of existence. The energy that defies the empty blackness of nonexistence by the very fact of its own presence. This singular energy composes all life, all matter, all time, all of everything. But Piet is right as well. There are at least two different kinds of energies, maybe even more. The energy of a sorceress behaves differently from the energy of an heiress.

(But even though they are different.)

(Both sorceresses and heiresses are human.)

She began to see time, not as a line stretching from one point to another, but rather as a sphere. A massive globe, like the planet itself. Past, present, and future were all on different spots on the surface of this sphere, but in the same way that a person could not see all the cities of the world at once—even when standing atop a mountain or flying in a plane—so too, could a person not see all of time from one perspective.

And that's what it all came down to: perspective. All of time was there, waiting to be experienced. It only needed an observer.

The present was all around, easily visible, easily accessible. The past was over the horizon, gone, out of sight, but still there. And the future was on the other side of the sphere, far and distant, but inexorably approaching. A person who was aware of the spherical nature of time could, with sufficient power, move themselves along the surface of the sphere and catch glimpses of distant futures or forgotten pasts.

Or, like Ultimecia, they can tunnel through the center, bypassing the exterior entirely. But unlike the center of the planet, which is filled with a core of metal, the inside of time is pure white and empty, because it simultaneously touches all points of the sphere at once, thus blurring all the lines together.

And inside that sphere there were things that lived, things made of energy, that could bypass the surface of time and connect distant points together. They were called Guardian Forces. They were energy from the center of time that had leaked out onto the surface, like magma from the planet's core bursting out through a volcano.

It all made sense.

(It all makes sense.)

It all makes sense.

And, for a moment, she is content to bask in this knowledge. To feel its fullness, its truth, suffuse the air. In this moment she understands more about the universe than any person living, or possibly any person who has ever lived. The Centra did not have access to the Lunatic Pandora. Maybe they could have guessed these truths, maybe they could have even proven them in laboratories or in mathematical equations, but they could have never felt them as Rinoa feels them. Never stand beside them, and see their ephemeral bodies twist through every shape imaginable.

Her awareness of the world narrowed, focusing down to just Esthar, down to the soldiers on both sides fighting for control of the city. If they knew the truth—if they could see what Rinoa saw—they would drop their weapons and abandon their fighting. They would realize how petty and small their ambitions were, how pointless their struggles.

Shaking her head sadly, she reached out to the minds of the soldiers, hoping to enlighten them. All at once, hundreds of Galbadian soldiers—if not thousands—heard a piercing shriek in their brains as Rinoa formed a connection with all of them at once—Ellone's power magnified a million times. They did indeed throw their weapons down, but not out of divine revelation, but out of pain, as they used their hands to clutch their pounding heads.

The connections were formed, but the soldiers did not see the same light that Rinoa saw. Instead, their minds were bounced backwards, into their own pasts. They saw themselves as children, playing in schoolyards or taking tests in classrooms or being admonished by their parents. They saw themselves as awkward teenagers, stumbling their way through first dates and broken friendships and disillusionment. They saw many true things—both good and bad—but they did not see the truth that Rinoa saw.

"Wake up, Rinoa," Ellone says in Rinoa's ear.

Rinoa shakes her head and rolls over. "No. Let me sleep."

"You can't stay here," Ellone says. "Wake up, Rinoa. Come on."

"I like it here," Rinoa says.

"Wake up, Rinoa," Squall says. "Please. Wake up."

And she blinks.

It was snowing. She blinked again.

(It's not winter.)

She looked around and saw that the snow caught the fading light at odd angles, making it glow a translucent green. Then, when she narrowed her eyes, she realized that the snow did not just appear green—it actually was green. Fat, delicate flakes of sparkling green drifted down from the sky, some landing on Rinoa's face with a texture like sand.

"Rinoa," Squall said. He buried his face in her shoulder. "You're okay!"

She felt a hard surface beneath her, and she realized that she was lying down, cradled in Squall's arms. In the sky there was one giant sun, made of fire and metal. From this sun, the green snow continued to pour out, billowing in the gentle breeze and scattering along the city. The glow from the fires gave Rinoa enough light to see by.

"What happened?" Rinoa asked.

"I don't know," Squall said, his face still pressed into her neck. "But it's over."

Rinoa squinted. "How? I didn't do anything."

Squall pulled his face away. He looked into her eyes and he smiled, a genuine, completely unrestrained look of joy. "You did something."

"I was just…" Rinoa said. She remembered that she knew everything—or, she thought she knew everything. But when she tried to recall the details, she could think of nothing but a green light and a low humming sound. Also something about spheres.

(Was I dreaming?)

"You went into the Pandora and were gone for five minutes, maybe," Squall said. "Then all the Galbadian soldiers passed out. All of them at once. The Esthar soldiers have been running through their lines ever since, taking away their weapons, shutting down the robots, and capturing the soldiers. It's been a while now, and even if the G-Soldiers wake up, they won't be able to recover. Esthar has taken back much of the city, and the remaining soldiers are broken and divided. Whatever you did, Rinoa, it worked."

(I wish I remembered what it was…)

She sighed and smiled. She had defied Ultimecia's prophecy. She had saved Squall—saved Esthar—and had done it without becoming a mass murderer. Without using her power to slaughter thousands of soldiers.

(I'm not Adel.)

(I'm not Ultimecia.)

As she breathed, she felt a distinct absence within her. Her eyes flicked wide open in panic, fearing that her sorceress powers were gone. But no, when she searched inside herself, she still felt the connection to her powers, the energy within her that made her a sorceress. It was the Fount that was gone, its energy spent. She felt naked and weakened without it, but also relieved. She no longer had to suffer the burden of world-altering power.

"What's that?" Rinoa asked, looking up at the fiery sun in the sky.

Squall looked up, then back down at her. "It's the Pandora. You blew it up. I think the green dust is particles from the Crystal Pillar. I… uh, I don't know if it's safe to breathe it in, so watch yourself, okay?"

Rinoa smiled. "It's just rocks. Basically dust."

"How do you know?" Squall asked.

Rinoa shrugged. But she knew without a doubt that the dust wouldn't hurt them. The stone was irrelevant—it was the power that had once been contained inside the stone that was powerful and dangerous. Now deprived of its energy, the remnants were no more harmful than dirt.

Rinoa smiled broadly, and reached up to touch Squall's face. But someone else's hand—a twisted, blackened hand with clawed fingers—reached up instead. Rinoa yelped and pulled away, and the hand pulled away as well.

She felt dizzy. She sucked in air—and bits of the green dust as well. She looked down at her hands. It was dark in the glow of the artificial sun, but she could see long pointed nails and cracked, blackened fingers.

(No.)

(Those can't be…)

(Those aren't my hands!)

They were someone else's hands. This wasn't her. This wasn't her body. She was dreaming. She was still inside the Pandora. She was still inside time compression. It was another of Ultimecia's tricks.

She thrashed in Squall's arms, trying to get loose from his grip. She didn't want to touch him—not with those hands. What if they were sick, diseased? What if Squall caught whatever illness she had?

"What happened?" Rinoa said, her voice rising in panic. Her heart hammered in her ears. "What happened to me?"

"Rinoa!" Squall said. He tightened his grip on her. "Rinoa, it's fine! You're okay!"

Memories of the past flashed before her eyes. The way the SeeDs had looked at her when she arrived in G-Garden. They had looked at her with horror in their faces. One of them had even shot at her on sight. Whatever that SeeD had seen, it had compelled her to aim and fire without hesitation. The way a soldier would when being ambushed by a monster.

She remembered the look of blind terror in Martine's eyes. Hadn't he been far, far too afraid for a man being confronted by a teenage girl?

("Rinoa…" Quistis had said. "What…")

(… She was gonna say, "What happened to you?")

She thought of Adel, after she had taken the Fount. The way her skin turned dark blue, then black, as the energy inside her body warped her appearance. She thought of Ultimecia's true form, a hideous monster, so deformed by the strength of her own magic that she wasn't even identifiably human anymore.

(Oh, god.)

(Oh, god. Oh, god. Oh, god.)

"How bad is it, Squall?" Rinoa shouted. "How bad?"

"You're fine," Squall said. He grabbed her by the back of her head and pushed her face into his shoulder and leaned his forehead atop her hair. "It's fine. It's fine. You're fine."

In the ruined, war-scarred city of Esthar, with green snow billowing in the breeze and fiery star above, fading into darkness, the sorceress clutched her knight and wept until she thought her soul would fall to pieces. Ultimecia's voice came once again, speaking a single sentence—a final taunt.

("You will always be a monster in someone's eyes.")