Chapter 12

"That we could put the past away." - Part 3

"Wake up."

Squall's eyes opened to darkness. At first, he couldn't see anything, but then he caught sight of the same floating firefly lights from the earlier chamber. They hovered around him until they bunched together and swirled in the air like a whirlwind. A bright light flashed, momentarily blinding him. When he could see again, Squall questioned his sanity. Towering over him was a dead man.

"Stand," ordered the ghost, extending his hand to the fallen soldier. He exuded an ethereal glow that brought light into that shadow infested pit. It kept the Heartless at bay, even forcing them to shut their eyes.

Squall hesitated to take it. He was too dumbfounded to say anything or even move. "You can't be real," he finally said, his voice almost a whisper.

The man let out a gruff chuckle. "I'm sure you've witnessed stranger things."

"I must be hallucinating. This is because I found your sword. You're fresh on my mind and I'm delirious with fever or I was gassed or whatever."

"When someone dies a violent death with unfinished business, they don't pass on peacefully."

"So what are you?"

"You could say I'm unsent. Never left to go to that faraway plane."

He sounds just like him. Could he really be…? Squall thought for a moment and decided to take the hand. He was pulled firmly to his feet and then received a swift, heartfelt fist-tap to the chest.

"You've really grown. You're a man now."

"Uncle Auron…"

Auron grinned with pride. "It's good to see you."

Squall let out a shaky "yeah" in response while still grappling with the sight before him. He looked the same as he did years ago, with the exception of a terrible scar that ran down his shut, right eye. There was no doubt about his identity, but what did that mean for Squall? "Am I…?"

"No. I tossed them off of you. They'll think twice before striking again." Auron's light burned bright and basking in its glow somehow made Squall feel stronger, safer.

Squall nodded and glanced around. Everything outside the brilliant aura was pitch black. "Where are we?"

"At the core."

"Of what?"

"The heart of this world lies beyond that door." Auron nodded to the distance where his light shone through the darkness to illuminate a door with a giant keyhole glimmering in its center. "The beast awaits within."

"You mean the leader." Squall motioned towards the door, but stopped short when pain shot through his banged up torso. He winced and fought hard to not topple over.

"Here." Auron unlatched the large, white cask that dangled from his belt and held it up to the soldier.

Squall stared at it for a moment, finding the exchange a bit surreal. His uncle only ever took a swig from that in the most dire of circumstances, and he never offered it to his ward.

"You're old enough now," Auron said, as if he could read Squall's mind.

Slowly, the soldier grabbed hold of the cask. After surmounting his initial hesitation, he took a big gulp of the sake within and nearly gagged on the stuff. It burned all the way down, scorching his already blazing chest. But after a minute or two, it somehow magically made him feel better, like he wasn't even hurt.

Auron let out a gruff chuckle as he watched his ward's reaction, then took a swig himself. "My blade," he said after replacing the cask, his hand open and waiting.

"You're coming?"

"Do you object?"

"Of course not. I just…I'm still having a hard time believing this is real—that you're here with me."

"Life is full of mysteries. Even in death."

Squall paused for a moment, grappling with the questions that burdened his mind. Even if this was some kind of hallucination, he needed closure. "How…did you die?"

Auron harrumphed and lifted his large katana to rest over his shoulder. At first, he turned away from his ward, as though avoiding the question. But then he showed a rare side of himself and gave an emotional response. "My friend was taken. I tracked down his location and cut down everyone in my path, but when I reached Jecht…he was already turned. We fought. During the battle, he obtained a fleeting moment of lucidity, begging me to end his suffering—to stop him destroying the world. I hesitated. That one moment cost me everything. One of the traitors appeared and shot me in the back. Jecht, he…tried to avenge me, but he lost control again. He grabbed me, trying to crush my body, but I managed to slice off his arm. Then his head. It ended us both."

Squall found it difficult to swallow. To go that far to save someone he cared about just to end in ruin. It was too much. Auron deserved better. Squall wanted to cry, but his eyes just stung. Maybe he was dehydrated. "What's keeping you here?" he eventually asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

"A promise."

The guardian kept the rest to himself. Without another word, he started towards the door expecting Squall to follow. And follow he did. The two approached the entrance to the leader's realm unchallenged. Auron's radiance cut the path and Squall's courage opened the door. On the other side, they came face-to-face with a horrifying sight.


The afternoon sun hung low in the horizon when Aerith made her way to the church. After spending the morning with Merlin and taking some of his magical remedies, she felt a resurgence in her vitality. Most of her symptoms subsided enough for Cid to stop fretting so much. While he and the wizard chatted in the garage about their secret project, she took to the streets for some fresh air and a needed break to pray in solitude. The lingering anxiety she carried from her nightmares festered. She worried for Squall and wished that she knew where to find him. With a location, she wouldn't have hesitated to race out of town to save him. If only she could track Sierra's movements, but alas, her magic didn't allow for things like that.

The only thing Aerith could do now was pray. She entered the church intending to do just that, passing the colorful "away" sign that she had left for the children on the gate. But as she made her way towards the crossing, she came to a sudden stop. Yuffie was there, kneeling over the flowers and sniffling. Aerith hurried over to her, wrapping her arms around the little girl in a warm embrace.

"Yuffie, what's wrong?"

Without saying anything, Yuffie buried her snotty, tear-streaked face into Aerith's chest and bawled her eyes out. When she finally settled down, Aerith guided her to the side room and made her a mug of hot cocoa. "Where were you?" she hiccuped while poking the marshmallows into the chocolate.

"I had some lessons with Merlin," Aerith said, sliding into the seat next to the sullen girl. "You're not upset about that, are you?"

Yuffie shook her head. "Uh uh. But I wish you were here for when…when the bad man came."

"What bad man?"

"The one who said…who said…" Yuffie almost started sobbing again, but she swallowed her tears with a giant gulp of cocoa. "My daddy's never coming back," she finally said, her eyes fixed on the single, large marshmallow bobbing in the chocolate.

"What do you mean?" Aerith asked, gently resting a comforting hand on the little girl's shoulder.

"The bad man said that daddy was ar…arm rested."

"You mean arrested ?"

"Yeah! That! And that he'll never come home again."

"Who was the bad man? What did he look like?"

"He was one of those guard people. The ones with the ugly coats that no incredibly awesome ninja would ever wear."

Aerith fell silent for a moment. The scientists, the disappearances, the fortress, and now the mayor was arrested. She resolved to confront her uncle and Merlin for a real conversation. Running away couldn't be the only option. Someone needed to take a stand.

"Don't worry, Yuffie," she eventually said, caressing the girl's back, "I'm going to look into this. I'm sure it's just a misunderstanding."

"Really?" Yuffie looked up at Aerith with wide, hopeful eyes.

"Really," Aerith nodded with a reassuring smile. Yuffie jumped up and gave her the biggest hug. The two spent the rest of the afternoon eating gingerbread cookies and coloring drawings of ninjas fighting guards portrayed as the ugliest of scribbles.

When it was time to go, Aerith hand-walked Yuffie home before returning to Cid's house. As she passed down the street, she noticed a conspicuous guard sniffing around her parents' place. Cid was right; they were watching for her. She crouched down and sneaked around to her uncle's back door.

"That you, sweet pea?" the engineer called from the kitchen. He came out wiping his greasy hands with a towel.

"You were right about the guards," she said, greeting him with a worried frown.

"What happened?"

"Apart from the creep looking through my front garden window, they arrested Mayor Kisaragi."

"Damn, they nabbed Godo? They're moving faster than we thought!"

"You knew he was a target?"

"Not exactly. He's one of us. Been helping with all kinds of stuff like misdirection and intel gathering." Cid motioned for Aerith to sit at the tea table while he retreated back into the kitchen to get the kettle going.

"How can we help him?" She could tell her uncle was panicked by how loudly he clanked the mugs on the counter and all the accidental spills he cursed at under his breath.

"We can't. Makin' a fuss now'd just draw their eyes right to our operation."

"But we can't just leave him there!"

"We must." Merlin appeared, peeking out from the bedroom. He wandered over to the table and sat down on the cushion next to his pupil.

"He's Yuffie's father," Aerith implored. "She needs him."

"In war, we must all be prepared to make sacrifices."

Cid brought out the tray with tea and biscuits, slamming it down in the center, getting splashes and crumbs everywhere. "If we start pokin' the Guard now, that could spell trouble for our exit."

Aerith helped her uncle clean the table and then looked both men deep in the eyes. "You need to tell me what's really going on. Enough being vague already. Wars? Exits? Kidnappings and arrests? Training can only get me so far without information."

Cid and Merlin glanced at each other, making all kinds of funny, little gestures as they debated their course of action. Eventually, Cid won out, and with a long sigh and a sip of tea, started spilling the details. "There's a…there's a new head honcho in town. It ain't the mayor, ain't Ansem, ain't even one of them white suits. She's a…" Cid looked around as if someone could be eavesdropping in his own secured home, then leaned in close to Aerith and whispered, "witch."

"A witch?"

Cid jumped off his cushion and clapped his hand over Aerith's mouth. "Hush now! Not so loud!" His niece gave some muffled reply and he shushed her again. "Quiet! Didn't Merlin ever teach ya that there's power in names?"

The wizard took a calm sip from his tea and hummed. "Of course I did. Year one, session twelve."

Aerith pried her uncle's hand off her. "But that isn't her name, is it? She's so powerful that we can't even insinuate what she is?"

"That's only part of it!" Cid exclaimed. "We don't want… him to hear."

"Who?"

"The raven. He hears us yappin' about a—well, you know—and he'll bring 'er right to our doorstep."

"I haven't seen any ravens around."

"Have ya even been lookin'?"

"Well, no, but one would be suspicious enough to get my attention."

"He don't want attention, girl! He's always flyin' around spyin' for his master. Can't make for a good spy if folk're constantly gettin' an eyeful."

Aerith paused to nibble on a biscuit as she considered all of the information. "So how does she factor into all of this?"

"Do you remember what your mother taught you about Prometheus?" Merlin asked.

"Of course I do," she murmured, reflecting on the memory. They had been out in the market one day when Aerith grew extra curious watching the unveiling of a newly constructed building.

"How do people make buildings?" she had asked. "Why do we live in them? Why can't we be like the flowers?"

"Always so full of curiosity!" Ifalna had kneeled down and patted her daughter on the head. "Once a long time ago, there was a god named Prometheus, who looked down on the mortals from on high. Atop Mount Olympus, he and his family enjoyed all the modern wonders of things like beds, chairs, art, music, street lamps—"

"Cake?"

"Even cake," Ifalna chuckled. "But the mortals had nothing except for the darkness of the earth's raw dirt. Feeling pity for them, Prometheus wanted to share at least some of the Olympians' light with those living below. So one night, he stole some fire and brought it down the mountain, igniting a brazier on the earth that would spark creativity across the realm. Nestled within the embrace of fire's light, the mortals were able to gain inspiration from its power and soon built a great civilization that would spread across every corner of the earth. That's when we started building houses, castles, and towns filled with all the wonders that the gods had kept to themselves."

Aerith couldn't hold back a tear as it streaked down her cheek. She wiped it away and took a sip from her tea to wash down the encroaching longing. "It's the story of how civilization started."

"More appropriately, it is a revolutionary paradigm shift that rebalanced the scales between mortals and the gods," Merlin replied.

"Are you saying the—she—is like Prometheus?"

The wizard nodded. "She has shared forbidden knowledge with the scientists, which has thus far guided their efforts towards chaos and ruin."

"But what could be so bad that you and I can't stop together? She's magic, right? We can just duel her and put an end to all of this."

"Her cunning is impeccable," Merlin lamented. "She infiltrated this world without my knowledge and seeded the corruption over many years. By the time I discovered it, its roots had grown too deep. To attack her now would spell our demise."

"To put it plain-like, the damage is so far gone, that if you fight her today you'd be fightin' the whole world at this point," Cid clarified. "That ain't somethin' any of us can win. Our best bet is to book it."

"Without even trying to resist?" Aerith couldn't believe what she was hearing. "Since when were you two so afraid of anything?"

"At present, we don't have the means to win this war," Merlin explained, pouring himself a refill. "Our best option is to minimize casualties via a tactical retreat."

"Surely not everyone in the Guard is under her influence? Squall isn't."

"Squall is an exception," Merlin said, his eyes meeting Aerith's and flashing with a mysterious, knowing glint.

"Oh my god," Aerith uttered as the realization started to dawn on her. "That's why you canceled our lessons. Because if you hadn't…if he hadn't been with me…"

"That's one of many reasons, yes. He would have been present during the indoctrination phases. Although in truth, that is only one layer to his protection, but best not get bogged down by the details, my dear. Suffice it to say, few—if any—other guards were spared. It is simpler to consider the rest forfeit and hostile."

"But what about his mission? I thought the Guard was finally getting wind of the scientists' corruption. Isn't that why they sent him out? To stop them?"

Merlin found a sudden fascination in Cid's wall clock. "I say, old chap—is that a new rocket design? It has a lovely shade of red that I don't recall from last time."

"Eh?" Cid glanced over at the clock and squinted. "The heck're ya—oh! Nah, that's just sauce from when the pot exploded couple days back. I should clean that."

"A kitchen explosion? My, however did that transpire? You're usually so careful."

"Well, funny story that. It all started when—"

"Don't change the subject!" Aerith exclaimed, feeling offended that the wizard thought such a cheap ploy would work on her.

Merlin sighed. "My dear, I'm hardly privy to the inner workings of the Royal Guard. Perhaps this was a mission organized from before the corruption?"

"It wasn't. He received his orders very last minute—the day before deployment."

"Well, then, perhaps there are a few good eggs that have escaped my notice."

"Then why don't we rally them to help us? There might be more than you think."

"There will never be enough!"

"Well someone clearly wants to confront those scientists! We should work with them."

"Bah! Trouble me no more with this interrogation!" Merlin shot up to his feet in a huff and readjusted his pointed cap, which had nearly fallen off during his bout of frustration.

"Why can't you just be honest with me for once?" Aerith demanded, standing to meet him in a long, intense stare.

"My dear, you know that prognostication is a dangerous arte. I can't share everything all willy-nilly! It could upset the balance of time-space!"

"But this isn't about the future; it's about the past and present."

"Which will affect the future if I were to tell you of such things."

"What does it matter if I learn of any helpful guards?"

"Because there are none, child!" Merlin quickly clapped his hand over his mouth. In his frustration, he let slip a definitive answer—something he swore to never do.

Aerith's eyes widened with encroaching fear. If Squall couldn't trust any of the guards, then that meant… "He's in danger!" A deep desire to run gripped at her legs, but she didn't know where to go or how to find him. He could be anywhere in the world. "Take me to him! You have the power to teleport! You can find him!"

"It is beyond your power to assist him now," Merlin contended. "His fate is sealed, as is yours. All you can do is wait until the future turns to the present. Wait and pray."

Nausea started bubbling up from her stomach again. She felt dizzy and almost staggered, but Cid came up to give her a big hug.

"It'll be okay, sweet pea," he soothed. "I'm sure that boy'll be just fine."

"It's all my fault," Aerith started to cry. "I told him to go. He didn't want to." She pressed her face into her uncle's shoulder to muffle her sobs. "He wanted to stay with me. He was going to propose, but I stopped him."

"It's okay," Cid said, gently rubbing her back. "He'll do it when he gets back. None of it's your fault, sweet pea. He's out there just doin' his job to keep folks like you safe."

"I don't need to be kept safe." Aerith pulled away, fire burning in her teary eyes. "I should be out there giving him backup!"

"It's not your role," Merlin interjected. "Squall walks his path while you must walk yours."

"There's nothing that says we can't be on the same path!"

"For the moment, you are divergent."

"Running parallel, then!"

Merlin stroked his beard for a moment. "Yes, parallel," he repeated thoughtfully. "That is an apt description. Your actions will compliment his efforts."

Aerith was taken aback, expecting more resistance from the wizard, not agreement. "What do you mean?"

"In his own way, Squall is assisting our cause."

"It sounded like he was going to find and confront the scientists responsible for everything—maybe even rescue the people they've kidnapped. That doesn't sound like running away to me."

"If he is indeed doing such things, theoretically such an action—if successful—would buy us the time we need to finish the ship's construction."

"The warp engine's the toughest nut to crack," Cid explained. "I've got most of the frame built and the controls are comin' along smoothly, but the nav's fragged to hell and the thrusters never hold their calibration just right when the warp's engaged."

"That sounds really bad."

Cid flicked his nose and let out a self-spiting laugh. "If we launched that puppy today and tried to warp to safety, we could wind up teleporting into the center of a sun."

In effort to steady her nerves, Aerith clasped her hands and held them close to her chest. "If it really is just the few of us against an entire army, I can see why this is our best hope. But if we run away, what will stop them from getting stronger and following us? Shouldn't we make a stand?"

"We will counter when the time is right," Merlin said, stroking his beard. "In order to ensure that we can fight in the future, we must flee in the present. Do you understand? Those who fight and run away, live to fight another day."

Aerith let out a long, weary sigh. "Fine. Okay. So what can I do to help Squall?"

"To help us all," Merlin corrected, "you must continue about your business. We'll resume your training here at Cid's house in the evenings. During the day, care for the children at the church. When the time is right, you'll facilitate their escape. Their innocence renders them immune to the taint gripping this world. Few others will survive."

"But what about my parents?"

Merlin waved a dismissive hand and turned for the door. "Some adults will survive." He opened the door, and without looking back at Aerith, informed her that he would return to resume her training tomorrow evening.

When the door clicked closed, Aerith almost collapsed from dizziness. Everything she learned overwhelmed her, but nothing weighed on her like her concern for Squall. Thinking of him traveling alone to uncharted lands surrounded by cutthroat enemies without any backup stabbed at her heart. Cid caught her as she was about to fall and escorted her to bed.

"I'll get ya more of those gut meds that Merlin left," the engineer said after setting her down to rest. But she called out to stop him. "What's up?"

"I can't ever go back home, can I?"

"It's safer for ya here. They're not watching this place. At least not yet."

"Won't I just put you in danger?"

"Nah."

"Well, I don't want to be a shut-in. You heard Merlin—I've got things to do."

"We'll just dress ya up in a disguise. I've had my eye on a hat and some swanky shades over at Wedge's place. I think I'll go shoppin' in a bit and nab 'em."

Aerith thought for a moment. "While you're out, is it possible for you to get something for me? From my bedroom, I mean."

"I don't see why not. I've got enough pull that I can distract the guard long enough to get me in there for a sec or two. What d'ya need? Some more clothes?"

Aerith shook her head. "In the top drawer of the night stand next to my bed, there's a wooden box with flowers carved all around it. Can you please bring it to me?"

"Sure thing, sweet pea. Consider it got!" After Cid gave Aerith one of Merlin's potions to treat the nausea, he dashed out the door to run his errands.

Now alone for the first time all day, Aerith felt the full weight of her worrisome thoughts crashing down on her. Feeling herself sinking in a tide of grief, guilt, and helplessness, she clasped her hands together once more and focused her mind on a powerful prayer of hope. She prayed for Squall's safety and speedy return; prayed for Yuffie's father and his release; prayed that no one else would suffer at the hands of the witch, her scientists, or any of the evil plaguing the lands. Most of all, she prayed for a way to help the ones she loved with a power stronger than hopes and wishes.

It was night when Cid returned home carrying a bunch of shopping bags. He excitedly barged into the bedroom, pulling Aerith out from her trance to show off all the little accessories he bought at Wedge's shop. "Man, that Wedge wouldn't know how to make a necklace if ya strangled him with it! Look how misshapen this pendant is!"

"You could do a better job," Aerith hummed, examining that and the assortment of bracelets, earrings, and rings he brought.

"Damn straight! If I ever go into retirement, I might take up the ol' jeweler's trade just to show Wedge off for the uncoordinated slob that he is." Cid picked up a mismatched earring set and stuck his tongue out. "At the very least, no one'd believe you'd be caught dead wearing this crap. It's the perfect disguise."

"I think I like these scarves and hats more," Aerith said, trying on a floral neckerchief and an overly large sunhat that she could tuck her braid into. Completing the look, she put on a pair of giant turtleshell sunglasses that covered half her face.

Cid let his mouth hang agape for half an age. "Damn, girl! If I didn't know that was you, I'd think you were a posh tourist from the Courtyards!"

Aerith caught herself in the mirror and did a twirl. "Perfect. They'll never see me coming."

"Now let's mix n' match these bracelets…maybe toss in a few rings and—"

"No, I don't want any rings."

"You sure? 'Cuz we could pretend you're some rich married heiress."

"No." Aerith solemnly massaged her left ring finger, feeling the bite of her guilt tearing at its base.

As he watched her, Cid realized the thoughts going through her head. "I getcha. Say no more." With a soft, knowing smile, he put the rings away and pulled out that ugly necklace instead. "I can't figure it out. Is it supposed to be a moon or a boomerang?" he muttered.

"It could be an overproofed croissant," Aerith quipped, suddenly chipper again.

"Heh! I'd never try one of Wedge's bakes if he opened a patisserie."

"Wouldn't stop you from buying a box of a dozen rolls to share at work, though."

Cid let out a raucous laugh. "True that! That's one way to take care of those bastards!" He helped her accessorize a little bit more before heading into the kitchen to start on dinner. "Oh, and I swung by your place," he said, halfway out the threshold. "The box's in that bag over there."

When he left the room, Aerith closed the door. Removing her hat and glasses, she reached for the box and pulled it into her lap. Running her fingers across the beveled carvings of wildflowers, the corners of her mouth tugged into a wistful smile as she pulled up the lid. Inside was a hefty collection of folded scraps of paper with notes all written in charcoal. She pulled one out at random and read it, her eyes growing misty as she absorbed each thoughtfully placed word.

[ Dear Aerith,

I'm sorry that you've had such a trying week. These things happen to everyone. I think of life as like a pendulum. When things go awry, it's only a matter of time before everything swings back in your favor. You've got what it takes to tough it out. I believe in you.

- Squall ]

Aerith spent the next hour lost in her memories and wishing Squall would hurry back to help her create new ones. When it was time for dinner, she replaced all the notes back in the box and topped them off with the rolled letters Sierra had carried. As she rested the box next to the bed, she bowed her head in one final prayer.

"I believe in you, Squall. Come home to me soon."


When Squall and Auron passed through the door, they entered a vast, rocky and volcanic chamber surrounded by lava. The ground was covered in what appeared to be long, fat cables that swirled around to form a menacing, tangled nest. At the dead center was a giant cylindrical tank that glowed with an eerie yellow light reminiscent of a Heartless's eyes. The two warriors approached with caution, each scanning their surroundings for potential ambushes as they approached the tank.

After reaching the foot of it, Squall craned his neck up to stare at a grotesque beast. It floated within the murky depths of the tank's luminescent fluids—a nightmarish creation born from the deepest recesses of fear and horror. Its body was a patchwork of twisted flesh, a malformed amalgamation of mismatched limbs and contorted features. Its skin sagged with a sickly hue of mottled gray, pulsing with a sinister life of its own. The beast's eyes were sunken and hollow, yet they gleamed with a malevolent intelligence that sent shivers down Squall's spine as he met its penetrating, scornful gaze. Witnessing its trespassers, the beast stretched is misshapen mouth to show off its jagged teeth that it twisted into a sinister grin, revealing a cavernous maw that seemed to devour the very darkness itself. With jerky, unnatural movements, it writhed as if each limb moved independently of the others, driven by some unseen force. Its guttural growls echoed through the chamber, almost freezing the soldier's blood with terror. But with Auron by his side, he stood strong and held fast.

"This is it," the guardian said, pulling his off-hand out of the sleeve that he used as a sling and gripping his katana with both hands. "Your actions here will resonate across all of creation. Will you surrender to the will of the gods? Or will you harness the courage to defy divine provenance? The fate of all worlds is in your hands."

Gods? Divine provenance? Isn't this a man-made monstrosity? What's he talking about?

Squall didn't have time to question Auron. The tank's glass creaked out a sickening crack as the shadowy beast pressed on it. Within seconds, it shattered into a million crystalline particles. Squall had just enough time to whip out his Gunblade in defense as the colossal Heartless leaped out in a cascade of fluid and lunged at the soldier. It knocked him back, smashing him into a barricade that protected from the lava below. Only Auron stopped it from pursuing him further, taking his katana straight to its gruesome maw and fending it off long enough for Squall to bound back to his feet.

With a hungry roar that sent gooey, mucous-ridden spittle flying, the monstrous Heartless flexed its giant claw and swatted Auron away just as Squall came up behind him ready to swing. The guardian went flying into his ward, toppling both onto the ground. In tandem, they rolled back upright and defended against the beast's ruthless follow-up. The onslaught pushed them back against the barricade. But just before their backs were forced over the edge, Auron tossed his cask straight into the beast's eyes. The sake splashed everywhere, stunning the Heartless with a painful howl.

"Now!" he yelled, and Squall didn't miss a beat. The soldier launched himself at the colossal Heartless, his Gunblade exploding with every impact as he furiously slashed across all of its convulsing limbs. Auron soon jumped into the fray alongside him, dragging his katana straight down the beast's belly.

The Heartless let out an ear-shattering shriek as a thick, viscous darkness seeped out of all its gaping lacerations. Within seconds, thousands upon thousands of yellow eyes popped open in the new sea of shadows pooling at the warriors' feet. Tiny Heartless detached from the dark ocean, surrounding the two men until Auron's golden aura flashed out to blind them. But it didn't last long. Their leader forced them to focus. They punched through the light and leaped at the intruders, clawing straight for their hearts. They dogpiled on Squall and Auron, forcing the warriors into a frenzied battle. They batted them away, slashed with all the might they could muster, but the Heartless horde was nigh endless. No matter how many of them they cut into, dozens more swarmed to take their place.

Squall fought back-to-back with his guardian while heaving deep, tired breaths. His body was at its limit and he didn't know how much longer he could keep fighting. Even bathed in Auron's light, the fatigue bit down hard on all of his tendons and joints. Each Heartless he swatted away took an inch off his life and his trigger finger was getting sore.

"Uncle Auron…we need to go on the offensive soon…or else…" Squall's vision was starting to fade as he struggled to maintain level breathing.

Auron grunted and quickly surveyed the area. Then, with a fierce swing of his katana, he knocked back a wave of Heartless. Like parting the sea, he momentarily revealed the mess of tubing below and dug his blade down into the ground. "Follow my lead!" he ordered, slashing against the tubing that ran along the floor. His blade effortlessly cut through dozens of the cables, revealing them to be exhaust ducts. Pure oxygen hissed out from the perforations, filling the chamber and causing the lava below to spontaneously explode in bursts.

Mimicking Auron, Squall swung his Gunblade down against the tubes and ran, dragging it at his side as he sliced zigzags into the nest. As the oxygen pumped into the room, the beast escalated its shrill shrieks. It thrashed around, knocking its unruly limbs all over the place and smashing through clusters of its own minions, destroying them on impact. High levels of pure oxygen led to toxicity, putting undue strain on the lungs of any creature—even one engineered to leverage its potency.

Squall's natural resistance from his endurance training afforded him a delayed reaction. But the longer the gas flooded his airways, the more he started feeling woozy. His legs soon wobbled and he struggled to stay balanced. Defending against the shadows grew far more complicated as he battled to an oncoming coughing fit.

Then, out of nowhere, the monstrous Heartless let out a wild roar before jumping up and down. The ground quaked and chunks from the ceiling dislodged. Jagged slabs of rock fell to block the free-flowing tubes, nearly slamming into Squall in the process. He lost his footing and tripped. Before he could recover, the beast pounced to crush him, but Auron shoved him out of the way taking the hit in his stead. The Heartless landed on top of him with a sickening crunch. Its wild limbs twitching as it crushed the guardian under its full, enormous weight, it leaned its gruesome head down and roared straight into Auron's pained face.

Adrenaline pumping through his angry, panicked veins, Squall charged at the beast with a fearsome battlecry. He batted away a few straggler shadows before jumping onto one of the beast's veiny, muscular limbs. Sheathing his blade, he dug his hands into its saggy, surprisingly slimy skin and started climbing. No matter how hard it tried to throw him off, Squall's master grip never faltered. All those years of mountain climbing in extreme conditions rewarded him with a straightforward path to the monster's head. When he reached the shaky summit, he swiftly stood and took his weapon back in hand. With one, violent thrust of his Gunblade, he drove the blade deep into the gruesome beast's neck and rapidly pulled the trigger. Explosion after debilitating explosion boomed through the heavily gassed air, sending the gargantuan Heartless spasming into a wild, tumultuous fit. Even when his arms felt like they would blow off, Squall continued firing. He kept going even through all of the coughing, the intense, searing pressure against his chest, and the nauseating lightheadedness. As long as Auron was pinned down, Squall resolved to keep going until the damn thing's head blew clean off. He didn't care that Auron was already dead. After losing him once before, he abjectly refused to suffer through that loss again.

With a quaking, sputtering gasp that bellowed out from deep within its lungs, the beast finally collapsed onto its side. Darkness oozed out of its wounds, but no new shadows surfaced. Spasming on the ground and wheezing, the grotesque monstrosity grew more and more still by the moment. When it hit the ground, so did Squall. Even though his body felt like it weighed a ton, he forced himself to his feet and shuffled towards where his guardian should have been. But he wasn't there. Only his katana remained. Falling listless to his knees, Squall slowly reached for the blade while struggling to keep his emotions in check.

All around him, the chamber continued to quake with fiery explosions set off by the mixture of intense gasses reacting with the lava. Like a bunch of geysers setting off, lava flew up into spirals that splashed everywhere, eating away at the tubing and causing more oxygen to flood the place. But Squall was too distracted to notice or care. It was then that the beast saw an opening for one last maneuver. A putrid miasma leaked out from its mouth, poisoning the air and seeping up the soldier's nostrils. Everything sent his head spinning—the stench, the pain, the grief. He could barely breathe and his consciousness started to fade.

Everything went black.

When Squall could see again, he found himself in a graveyard. The earth below his feet was ashen and barren, and dark clouds hung in the sky. Gnarled branches of rotten trees crooked around him, barring an escape route. The air smelled stale, wafting with the putrid scent of decay. Cracked, mossy tombstones surrounded the soldier, each bearing the name of someone he knew. He didn't know what to make of it. On some level, he recognized it as an illusion, but his exhaustion made it imperceptible from reality.

"You're all alone."

Squall turned around to see the beast looming over him, casting a long shadow. Its disgusting, malformed body writhed and crackled as it stalked closer. On instinct, Squall reached for his Gunblade, but it wasn't in its sheath. Defenseless, he started backing away. With each step the Heartless took, he followed in suit until he tripped over one of the graves. He came face-to-face with his mother's name—Raine Leonhart. He reeled.

"It was she who cast the first stone," said the Heartless, its voice as distorted and mangled as its twisted face. "Abandoning you at birth."

"Not her fault," Squall growled. Why am I arguing with it? It clearly wants to get into my head.

"The sins of the mother fertilize the nurturing field, sealing the fate of her offspring as they bud. Thus you are doomed to loneliness forevermore."

"I'm not lonely. I have Aerith." Stop talking back. I have nothing to prove.

"Do you?" hissed the monster. Each progressive step it took towards Squall left the ground more cracked and lifeless. "Everyone always leaves you. Why would she be any different?"

"No one left by choice." It's poking around for holes. Can't give it any. Stop talking!

"How certain are you of that? Your mother gave up living the moment you were born. Your guardian absconded without a word to die for a friend that he never spoke about. And what of your father? Unknown in name, face, and fate. Gone before you were even a thought. Aerith will prove no more loyal."

"She loves me, and I love her. Nothing else matters." Why can't I stop? Am I actually worried about this?

"Love is fickle and meaningless. It will cause you grief in the end, whether she tires of you or dies before she can move on." The Heartless was inches away from him now, its crooked maw open at a slant. Giant globs of rancid saliva dripped down from its sharp teeth and splashed all around the sullen soldier. "No one will ever choose you above another." The beast leaned its gigantic head down, peering close into Squall's face. Its fetid breath nauseated him as much as its words.

"Aerith would…" …wouldn't she?

The grotesque creature curved it's mouth into a deformed grin. "Are you certain?" Its long, slimy tongue wriggled around its scaly lips as if it could taste the soldier's delicious doubt.

Squall grimaced and averted his gaze. Maybe she wouldn't. There are lots of people more important than I am. Her parents, her friends, those kids. I wouldn't choose me either…it wouldn't be fair to, or right. But does that mean she doesn't love me as much? What is love anyway? Is it really so arbitrary and finite? I know what it feels like to love her, and I've never felt anything less than that coming from her. But then…why wouldn't she let me finish my thought? Did she know I was going to propose? Did she not want me to? Would it really have been so bad to let me go through with it before leaving? Maybe she doesn't really want to be with me. Not seriously. They really do all leave in the end, don't they? Maybe I'm better off alone in the mountains. Just me with the earth. But can I really go back to being alone now that I've tasted Aerith's companionship? I can't picture my life without her. It isn't a life. It's death.

So absorbed in his labyrinthine thoughts was Squall that he failed to notice the beast had opened its gigantic mouth wide, hovering over the soldier's entire head. Its sharp rows of teeth glistened with gooey saliva, ready to chomp its meal clean off at the neck. Squall grew more miserable with each passing second as his internal dilemma darkened. But just as the Heartless was about to feast on its unwitting snack, a sudden voice broke through the din of inner turmoil and struck Squall like lightning.

"I believe in you, Squall."

Aerith?

"Come home to me soon."

Home? Do I really have one? Everyone always leaves.

"The earth never leaves you," his uncle's voice echoed. "And we never leave it. Draw strength from the natural forces that gifted you this tale and you will never falter."

Uncle Auron…I think I understand now.

Squall opened his determined eyes, not realizing they had shut, and caught sight of the teeth poised to shred into him. With a reflexive roll, he jumped out of the way and reached for his Gunblade, which had returned to his side and glowed with a strange ethereal light reminiscent of Auron's.

"You have it all wrong," Squall stated, firmly gripping his blade. "I've never been alone. They're all here with me right now." He stepped forward, and when his foot pressed down on the barren ground, grass sprouted in his wake. A breeze broke through the stagnant air, swirling around the soldier as he advanced. Taken aback by the sudden rebirth, the Heartless roared with fright. The new light shined bright and burned the beast. Large, open welts exploded across its twitching body. The closer Squall stalked, the more the monstrosity screeched in pain.

Feeling both the hands of Aerith and Auron clasped over his, Squall raised the Gunblade high over his head. A bright, blue energy collected into the blade, shooting up high into the heavens. When he finally swung it down with their combined strength, the raw energy sliced clean through the monster, separating it into two shrieking halves that exploded. Dark globs blasted out across the newly sown verdant grounds and disintegrating into nothingness.

When the field cleared, his eyes briefly caught the ghostly image of a very young woman. She had his blue eyes and long, brown hair the same shade as his. She smiled warmly as she waved to him. Before he could so much as think, she disappeared.

Mom…so you really were here with me too. Thank you. He stared at that spot for a while, trying not to cry as he watched the bucolic grassland continued to spread across the expanse.

"Squall."

Upon hearing his name, the soldier turned around and found himself back in the valley swirling with fiery ashes. Although somehow, the fires were tamed and the shadows had retreated. Ifalna greeted him, the lilies at her feet swaying in a foreboding wind. "So you weren't just a dream," he said, moving closer towards her.

"I warned you, Squall," Ifalna said, imparting her deep sadness with every syllable. "Now your fates are forever sealed. I tried to give your budding family its best chance, but you've scorched the earth. The grounds are no longer fertile to bear you a fruitful future."

"I just defeated the leader Heartless and resurrected the dead earth under my feet. There's nothing scorched about it, so why are you still this pessimistic?"

"Because I can no longer hold them back. They won't heed me now."

"What are you saying?" Squall thought for a moment, studying her melancholic eyes and watching as the light started to fade from within. Then the realization dawned on him. "You…you were Project Gamma." His mouth went dry.

"I did my best to keep the shadows at bay. For years I turned them away from the town. Now there is no one to stand between you and oblivion."

This can't be real. Did I just kill…no, I couldn't have. "I don't understand. If you were really that monster, how are you here right now? How can we talk like this?"

"This is a cross-plane—a small pocket that exists between the Realms of Light and Darkness, Life and Death. I created it to protect my essence from the machinations of the mad men."

"The scientists—they kidnapped you?"

Ifalna nodded. "They forced corruption into my heart disregarding my lineage. Unlike their previous hosts, I have the innate ability to freely traverse the cosmos. And so I split myself. While they desecrated my mortal shell, my divine essence escaped to here."

"Divine?" Squall crossed his arms and thought back to what Auron had mentioned earlier. "Are you saying…that you're some type of god?"

"I am the daughter of one, yes. Therefore it is more accurate to refer to me as a demigod."

This sounds so surreal. "What are you a demigod of?"

"I neither have the time nor the desire to entertain your curiosities about my lineage."

Squall was about to scoff at her rudeness when her knees buckled. She winced with pain, hunching into herself as she clutched at her abdomen and he rushed to support her. "How can I help?" he asked, pushing back the whirlwind of guilt he felt knowing he was the source of her pain.

"There is nothing more…you can do now, Squall," she struggled to reply. "If nothing else…I am relieved." Ifalna suddenly gasped and the ground beneath their feet started to quake. Fissures formed in the ground, cracking the valley into pieces that plunged into a dark abyss.

"What's happening?"

"I… can no longer maintain this form," Ifalna stammered through her labored breath. Squall held her close, wishing he didn't feel so powerless. "You're…so very warm…" she uttered, bringing her hand up to his chest. "I see why…she loves you so… Perhaps…I was wrong. You valiantly…defeated such a fearsome foe, resisting the Darkness at every turn. I thought…your heart would fall, but…you succeeded where most men would have failed. There may yet be hope…"

"There's always hope. Your daughter taught me that."

"Yes… Love her…always…" Ifalna closed her eyes, and Squall thought he had lost her. But then she spoke again. "Beware of Maleficent. She wants Aerith for her powers, and she'll stop at nothing to achieve her darkest desires."

"Who's Maleficent?"

"One of the Dark Ones—a corrupted fae. Her hands are stained with the blood of my kin. Assisted by a traitor, she started this war…by challenging the Olympians' rule. It cannot end…while she still breathes."

"Then I'll kill her."

With her eyes still closed, Ifalna raised a weak, trembling hand clumsily to Squall's cheek. He helped her hold it there. "You cannot," she stated, her voice faint. The earth around them was disintegrating save for that small plot of land where they stood. "Squall…?"

He waited for her to say something, but she didn't. "Yes?"

There was still no reply.

"Ifalna?"

Her hand grew limp in his. He thought it was over, but then, with her final breath, she whispered, "Thank you."

The earth violently quaked once more, this time shedding the remainder of its crust. The valley fell into a dark abyss, carrying Squall and Ifalna down with it. Everything went black.

When Squall next awoke, he did so from a forceful nudge to his shoulder. With an aching groan, he eased himself up off the ground. His leaden body throbbed with pain and he found it difficult to move. When his eyes refocused, he saw Professor Gast's sweaty, concerned face staring back at him.

"You're alive!" exclaimed the professor with glee, slapping Squall a few hearty times again to the shoulder.

"Yeah…" the soldier mumbled, wincing from the soreness.

"And you killed that horrible monstrosity!"

"Huh?" Squall's gazed followed to where Gast was pointing. Behind him was the unmoving husk of Project Gamma. It was only then that he realized that he sat in the volcanic room with all the severed oxygen tubes. The professor helped him to his feet and then scurried off to examine the Heartless.

"Grotesque, yet fascinating nonetheless," the professor hummed as he poked at the beast's slack maw.

Squall's head was in a daze. He didn't know what to do or what to say. All of the truths he carried inside of him started to fester, but nothing sank in until he looked down at his Gunblade and saw the dark streaks of blood. Her blood. Just like the vision she had shown him. Even if it was Ifalna instead of Aerith, the ending hardly changed. Squall was a murderer.

If only I had known. If I could've just spoken to her more—if she had just trusted me. I could've saved her. I could've done something! The professor could've done something! And now he's prodding her body like it's some kind of lab experiment. How do I even begin to tell him? That's his wife. That's the woman he's spent half a lifetime trying to find and rescue. And I took her away from him.

Like a shambling corpse, Squall walked towards Gast. So many variations of the same sentence ran through his head, but he couldn't settle on any of them. Nothing sounded right. When he reached the professor, he struggled to not look at the Heartless. Whenever his eyes started to drift towards it, his heart skipped a beat and his stomach churned. All he could picture was holding Ifalna's frail body as the life drained out of her.

"How curious that the shadow form hasn't dissipated yet. All the minions scattered the moment the leader fell. I marked the time in my notes."

Squall didn't have the heart to interrupt him. He wanted nothing more than to run out of that facility and never look back. But he owed Gast the truth. "Professor…"

"Hm?" The professor was busy taking samples and jotting down notes.

"There's something I need to tell you." Squall's voice grew quieter and more emotional with each progressive word.

Gast clipped his pen to the page and looked up with worry. "Is everything okay, son?"

Every time Gast called him that, Squall felt a sense of camaraderie and belonging. It made him happy. But not this time. Now it cut into him like a jagged dagger. He averted his gaze, no longer able to look the professor in the eye. The guilt and shame kept mounting. After wrestling with himself, he finally decided to bite the bullet and state it outright.

"Professor Gast," he said firmly, now looking the older man in the eyes, "that Heartless was—"

Before Squall could finish his confession, a blinding light exploded from the Heartless. All of the darkness melted off its body, shrinking it down to normal size. Gast stared in disbelief, frozen by the disconnect of what he witnessed. When he found the strength to move, he bolted forward and slid to the ground, scooping Ifalna's cold, pale naked body into arms.

"My darling, I'm here! Open your eyes! Please…" Tears streamed down Gast's face as he cradled his wife, rocking her back and forth as he held her close. For once, his scientific mind didn't have time to entertain theories, ask probing questions, or search for imperceptible clues. All he could think about was the love of his life.

Squall watched the display with agony tearing through his veins. It's all my fault. I did this. He tried to look away, but forced himself to watch. He needed to remember, needed to keep the memory with him forever. The memory of his failure.

Gast continued sobbing into his wife's unresponsive body, his voice trembling with panic and grief. He thought about reaching for a first aid kit or some water or anything, but he didn't want to move. Even when his body cramped and his shoulders felt like they would pop out of their sockets, he continued holding her tightly. Then, he suddenly froze. His gaze looked down, trailing to find the source of a sudden murmur. He tossed off his glasses, letting their eyes meet for the final time.

"Gast…you…came…" Her voice was incredibly frail and cracked.

"Of course I did!" he sniffled, trying to control his erratic voice. "Did you really think I wouldn't? Oh, my darling—I love you so! I'll never leave you!" He leaned in to kiss her, and for the first time in decades, Ifalna smiled. It was small, sweet, and pure. Then she closed her eyes and never opened them again.

When Gast felt his wife slacken, he let out a forlorn wail. It pierced Squall right through the heart, almost knocking him off his feet. Then another burst of light exploded from Ifalna, this time disintegrating her human form. A shiny heart floated up through the light and disappeared, leaving Gast paralyzed by his bereavement. He continued bawling uncontrollably for a long time. At some point, Squall felt duty-bound to go to him, pushing past his guilt. The moment he reached out to Gast, the heartbroken man grabbed hold of his arm and pulled him down on the ground, hugging him tightly and blubbering into his chest.

It took a long time for the professor to settle down. The two men held each other for what seemed like hours. Then, out of nowhere, Gast said his first words since Ifalna passed. "Do you know how this world became known as 'Radiant Garden'?" he sniffled. "It was because of Ifalna. Because she breathed new life into this rock. When she came through the door, she brought all the flowers, the meadows, the valleys, the trees, the forests—all the things that you and Aerith hold so dear, that the townsfolk take for granted, that Ansem promised his new vision for the future upon. My Ifalna did all that. She made this world special. And now she's…she's…"

Gast started sobbing again, and Squall couldn't hold back his own tears anymore. He joined him.


When they finally calmed and their tears dried, Squall and the professor helped each other stand. Slowly, rage replaced sorrow within Gast's heart. "We have to stop Hojo," he seethed. "That monster must pay for the ruin he's wrought. Must pay for the suffering he's caused."

"Yeah," Squall agreed, his heart still weighed by his guilty conscience. But I'm the one who killed her.

"We'll find that second facility, destroy it, and then track down the man himself. I hope you'll allow me to do the honors when the time comes. I deserve that much."

"Let's just restrain him first. We can talk about the particulars after."

"Agreed."

As they started making their way out of the chamber, Squall's eyes suddenly darted to the side where he saw another cluster of strange fireflies hovering over a spot in the distance. He broke away from the professor for a moment to check it out and stumbled across Auron's katana. The breath hitching in his throat, Squall kneeled down and respectfully took it into his care. He tied it again to his pack before rejoining Gast.

The two men walked back through all the tunnels and chambers until they reached the rotunda. Not a single Heartless in sight. All of the shadows had disappeared when their leader fell. The professor had some theories about that and shared them as they trekked their way down to the garage. "The leader was responsible for their mobilization," he hypothesized. "With the signal broken, they've scattered."

"To where, though?"

"To find corruptible hearts, perhaps? They must have a nose for these things—some sort of hypersensitive sense to detect vulnerability."

"So then they're still out there?"

"I would say so," the professor nodded. "There's another possibility, of course. It could be that the leader's commands are what give the shadows their form. Without it, they perhaps lack the strength to manifest on this plane."

Squall thought for a moment. Battle tactics were a great distraction. "Either way, it sounds like defeating a leader earns us a moment of respite. That's good to know in a war."

"Yes," Gast hummed solemnly. "We're at war."

When they reached the garage, they found a truck that looked prime for a hijacking. Squall tried the door, and to his surprise, it opened. I guess no one expects a car theft at a top secret off-the-grid facility . He found the keys tucked away in the visor and started the engine. With roar, the truck grumbled to life and the two men sped down the long tunnel connecting to the outside world. As they left the volcanic hellscape behind them, Squall rolled down the windows to get a breath of fresh, clean mountain air. Even through all his sorrow, one lungful of an alpine breeze made him feel strong enough to suffer any hardship.

As the sunrise greeted them over the horizon, Gast suddenly patted the soldier on the shoulder. "Listen, Squall, about what happened…I don't want Aerith to know."

"What?" On top of everything, you want me to keep hiding things from her? Are you insane?!

"She's already lost her mother once. Grieved for her, mourned her, learned to live without her. I don't want her to have to suffer through that again. Do you understand?"

"She has a right."

Gast tightened his grip on Squall's shoulder. "Yes, she does—the right to happiness. Ignorance is bliss."

"It's built on a lie."

"Would you rather tell her everything, then? Have her succumb to sorrow learning that her beautiful mother was made into that…that thing?" Gast's eyes were welling with angry tears as he continued, his vice-like grip cracking the soldier's joint. "Or would you have her learn that for sixteen years, her sweet mother was held captive, experimented on, and made to devour hearts? And you claim to love my daughter? By resigning her to that kind of misery? What kind of life is that for her?"

I'd also have to tell her that I'm the one who killed her mother… Would it really be so bad to hide everything? To lie? To keep her laughing and smiling in ignorance?

Squall mulled it over for a long time. "Fine," he finally muttered. "I won't say anything."

Gast stared at him for a bit then sniffled before patting that same, raw shoulder. "Good."

As he continued to drive through the caldera, Squall's mind wandered all over the place. But he kept returning to the same end point. He didn't know if he wanted to see Aerith again. So many lies piled up inside of him and he didn't like the idea of concealing anything from the woman he wanted to marry. And that was another thing—could he still marry her after the crime he committed? His heart sank to its lowest point. The thought of never being with Aerith again made him feel dead inside.

Eventually, Squall drove them back to the alpine forest where they left the snowmobile. The truck was too conspicuous to take back, so the two travelers ditched it at the base of the mountain. After stepping back into the frosted air of the snowy fields, Squall reached back into his pack for his jacket. As he put it on, he lamented not having a spare shirt to wear underneath. All the holes made his jacket little more than a decorative piece. After getting situated, the two men retraced their steps through the path Squall had marked into the trees. When they finally found their camouflaged vehicle, they mounted it in silence and kicked off towards the town. Behind them a colossal, fiery explosion set off and rocked the earth as the cooling rods disengaged and the facility was destroyed. The disaster caused a series of avalanches that flooded the caldera as it sank into the newly opened ground. As the snow met the lava, it blew off a giant steam cloud that blanketed the valley and conveniently gave them cover for their trip.


Squall stood outside the church. Exhausted, his stiff body aching and clad in a ragged jacket that exposed him to the full chill of winter, he struggled to not collapse. Caustic, deleterious thoughts plagued his conscience and harsh whispers of misery berated him for his failure to save Ifalna. He didn't know if he could bare to face Aerith. His feet brought him mindlessly to her doorstep, but he didn't dare cross the gate. He couldn't. After staring at her holy sanctum with his forlorn, tired eyes for what seemed like an eternity, he slowly turned around, resolving to burrow himself far away from her. But just as his shredded back faced the building, she called out his name and he froze. Before he could so much as breathe, he felt Aerith's tender body press against his as her arms wrapped around his torso.

The moment he felt her warmth, he seized, not feeling worthy of it. But her love for him flooded into his blood, thawing his frosted heart. On reflex, he brought his hands to cup over hers and leaned into her backward embrace.

"Welcome home," she said, smiling into his neck.

"Yeah," he replied softly. She was his home, his heart. He belonged with her.

"I missed you so much. I was worried."

Squall could feel the moisture from her tears. "Sorry."

"It's okay. You're here now. Everything is going to be okay."

They stayed like that for a little bit until Aerith pulled away and he turned around to look into her concerned eyes. It felt like she could see right through him, like she could uncover all of the truths he didn't want her to know. I should just tell her. She deserves to know that she's lost her mother again—that I'm the one responsible. That maybe we shouldn't be together anymore.

Before he could say anything, however, she grabbed his hand and squeezed it. "Come inside. I'll tend to those injuries."

He squeezed back even though he felt so unworthy of her kindness and followed as she led him to their usual pew in front of the lilies. Her mother's lilies. The last thing Aerith had to remember her by. As he unsheathed his Gunblade to prop against the side of the pew, Squall's heart sank again. I don't have the right to be here. I don't deserve you.

Once they were seated, Aerith quietly helped him remove his tattered jacket and peeled away the bloodied dressings. She could sense his apprehension and felt the distance between them. A tension hovered in the air, thick and suffocating. He was miles away from her, traumatized. She wanted to understand why, but didn't think it wise to push for answers. As she hovered her gentle, soothing palms over his open sores, Aerith prayed for his inner turmoil to heal in equal measure with his outward wounds. Squall's body came back to her, but his heart and mind were elsewhere in a place she could never tread. In his eyes, she saw a deep, haunted fear. Not knowing how else to help, she trusted her magic to do what her words couldn't. Her curative touch ghosted across his torso, navigating across the chiseled landscape that she missed holding, caressing, and nuzzling. With every brush of her palm, a gash mended shut and a bruise melted away.

But the longer Aerith channeled her powers, the weaker her body grew. Unlike summoning the elements, curative spells took a far greater toll on her, especially with so many wounds to close. A powerful fatigue swept over her, and she struggled to keep the healing, green tendrils from fizzling out. She tried to hide it, wanting to keep going until the very end. To remedy his every ill and make him feel whole again. But as her head wobbled and her breathing grew erratic, Squall placed a hand on hers.

"Aerith," he murmured, his words weighed by a crippling burden that she yearned to lift. "You've done enough. More than enough. More than I'll ever deserve." He meekly tugged her trembling hand off of his chest and rested it back in her lap.

"Why are you saying it like that?" she asked, worried by the finality in his voice. Searching his eyes for an answer proved futile, as he cast his gaze away from hers and shrank back from her touch. Fighting through her weariness, Aerith cupped his face and forced him to look at her. "I know you've suffered through something terrible," she said, caressing his cheeks, "and you don't have to tell me right now if you don't want to. But you have to know that I'm here for you to lean on. You're not in this alone, Squall. We're partners, remember? I'll shoulder this burden with you." She took his hand in hers and squeezed it tightly.

Squall didn't know what to do. The guilt burned like acid through his guts. Its acrid taste poisoned his tongue. "I can't be your partner anymore, Aerith," he found himself saying. As soon as the words left his mouth, he wanted to vomit. His heart felt like it would tear itself apart from the anguish. With his free hand, he tried to pry himself away from her, but it was a weak gesture. His body wanted to be with her even if his guilt-ridden conscience was screaming for him to run out of her life forever.

It didn't take much for Aerith to resist his feeble attempt to flee. "You don't mean that," she stated knowingly. Before he could answer, she pressed her lips to his.

Without thinking, Squall squeezed the hand still holding his and leaned into her. He had missed her terribly, as much as she did him. As their kiss intensified, he found himself unable to dispel his desire for her. He craved to press his body against hers and wrapped his arms around her, slowly bringing her down against the length of the pew, cushioning her back with his wandering hands. Even through all the petrifying doubts, being with her in that moment felt cleansing.

Aerith moaned with bliss as she cradled his full weight, his body nestling on top of hers like a cozy blanket that snugged into all the right places. It was electrifying feeling his touch as his hands slipped under her dress. She reveled in the anticipation of their reunion. After so many agonizing days without him, she felt incomplete and hollow. Like a zombie just going through the motions to get by until he returned to breathe life back into her. Letting go of all her restraints, she surrendered to her passions. But as her hands traveled down his naked back, they grazed over the scars that she couldn't heal. He would carry those forever all because she had been too weak to help. When struck by that failure, she suddenly pulled away with remorse. The second she did, the spell was broken and the darkness crept back into Squall's mind.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled, shrinking away from her again. The pain in her eyes made him think she somehow knew about what happened. He sat up, leaving them both cold and heartbroken. "I shouldn't have done that. I…can't be with you anymore." I don't have the right to hold you. My hands are stained with your mother's blood.

"Why do you keep saying terrible things like that? I know you don't believe them. I definitely don't." Aerith slowly regained her composure, even though the absence of his warmth felt debilitating. Squall was silent for a long time, and she let him process his words. She knew he would answer her. He always did, no matter how long it took.

"I've committed an unforgivable crime," he finally said, his voice shaking as he forced back the tears.

Aerith tried to take his hand again, but he quickly got to his feet, grabbed his Gunblade and aimed to leave.

"I can't do this. I'm sorry." What was I thinking coming here? I'm leading her on. How could I be this cruel to her? I should go and cool off. I can't talk to her like this. She deserves so much better.

"Squall, wait!"

He froze. The pain and urgency in her voice cut him deeper than any Heartless claw. When she reached for his hand again, Squall didn't stop her. He let her hold it, squeeze it, and tug him close to her. At bare minimum, he owed her some kind of consolatory gesture.

"I need to tell you something," Aerith said, cradling his hand in both of hers as she brought it to rest on her lower belly. She had wanted to save this moment for later, for when they were both warm and comfortable in bed, cloistered away in each other's tender embrace teetering between the waking and dreaming worlds. But after everything, now seemed like the best time. Maybe it would bring him back from the brink of despair. She greeted his weary, despondent eyes with a small, hopeful smile as she massaged the warmth back into his listless fingers. "Squall, you're going to be—"

"Sergeant Leonhart!"

The sudden interruption boomed across the high arches of the church. Its echo rang like the final bang from a broken bell. Squall and Aerith both turned towards the entrance where a group of heavily armed guards stood in formation.

"Excuse me, this is private property!" Aerith stated, unafraid of the guards or their menacing glares. She fancied giving them a taste of their own medicine. "You're trespassing!"

"Rubble hardly counts as property, you stupid woman," retorted the leader as he marched forward, reveling in Aerith's deep, disgusted frown. He stopped inches away from Squall, who had taken a defensive posture in front of Aerith.

"Don't talk to her like that," Squall warned.

"You're in no position to make demands, Sergeant. I'm placing you under arrest."

"I don't think so," Squall growled, fingering the hilt of his blade. But the guard roughly grabbed his sword arm.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you—unless you want something unfortunate to happen to this pile of rocks," he sneered. "You're to be taken into custody and escorted to the Guard-Captain."

Squall wrestled his arm free. "On what grounds?"

"Dereliction of duty, sabotage, treason—take your pick."

"Treason?" Aerith scoffed in disbelief. "You guys are really letting yourselves go with your power trip. What kind of trumped-up, bogus charges are those? Did you just pick them out of a hat?"

"Your girlfriend's got a mouth on her, Leonhart. She'd better shut it before I do it for her with a bullet." The guard unbuttoned his holster and held his fingers threateningly close to the handle of his handgun. Behind him, his squad readied their blades and rifles.

"Oh, you did not just go there." Fired up, Aerith clenched her fists at her sides, channeling powerful magic into both. She aimed to strike the soldier down with a bolt of lightning and push him and his cronies out the door with a powerful gale. But before she could so much as configure the incantation in her head, Squall suddenly turned around and hugged her.

"It's okay," he whispered in her ear. "Just let it go."

"But, Squall—"

"You could easily take them all down by yourself—it's no contest—but if you do that, they'll just send more. And maybe next time the kids will be here. Let me go, Aerith. I'll handle this."

Aerith pulled away and looked him deep in his melancholic, blue eyes. She wanted so desperately to heal that pain, to see him smile again. "Promise me you'll come back."

Squall averted his gaze and said nothing. His heart ached. Maybe it would be better if I don't come back.

"Squall, please. Promise me." No one ever came back. Aerith knew that. She didn't want to let him go, but everything he said about the kids weighed heavy on her. She couldn't risk getting them involved.

"I'll always come back to you," Squall suddenly replied, buckling from the desperation in her voice. Under the circumstances, he didn't feel it appropriate to say that, but his heart broke through all the barricades erected by his shame-plagued conscience. I want to be with you more than anything, Aerith. I'd tear down the Guard man by man to do it. But…I don't deserve you. Not after what I've done. I promise I'll come back one day to give you closure. You're due that. And afterwards…I'll go.

With her hands reaching down to squeeze both of his, Aerith leaned in and kissed him one final time. He squeezed back before solemnly pulling away. Squall picked up his tattered jacket and put it back on then turned towards the guard.

"Now that your sickening display is over, gimme your hands," grunted the surprisingly patient guard as he pulled out a pair of handcuffs and reached for Squall's wrists. Not wanting to make more of a scene, Squall let the arresting officer do as he pleased. Receiving a rough shove to his scarred back, he started marching in front of the guard while the others came to surround him. The soldiers left the church huddled around their captive.

As she watched them depart, Aerith shuddered from a sudden chill that ran down her spine. The church grew desolate and foreboding. Without Squall, even the garden felt drained of life. After waiting a few minutes to collect her thoughts, she decided that the risk was too high. Even if she didn't know the details about what happened out in the field, Squall's depression spoke volumes. Whatever the Guard wanted him for, she worried he would feel guilty enough to confess to anything they accused him of doing. Refusing to play the role of helpless bystander, she rushed out of the church to piece together a strategy to rescue the man she loved.