Author's Notes:

I'll keep it short: I was busy last week (Thanksgiving). I had no time to finish this chapter and didn't want to rush things.

On the bright side, I won't have to 'copy' JAGA's work anymore… From here on out, I'll try to write the story close to the original, but since I tend to go off-tangent after a while, it might change (evident from my previous chapters and my other fanfiction, Double Edged Situation). That being said, I won't try to alienate the Fire Emblem Awakening story too much… Weeell… no promises.

Lately, I've been brainstorming ideas for future chapters that I think will be good to include. I wrote down some of them in my last chapter, but I want to ask you, readers, if there is anything in particular you would like to see explored in this story/world. It could be simple or ridiculous-sounding. I'll try to incorporate it into the story if it sounds good. It's up to you if you want to respond. If not, I'll just continue as planned.


Chapter 7 – Destiny in Flames, Part I

Sand swirled ominously around the ruins of Midgar, the harsh sunlight casting long, eerie shadows that danced across the desolate landscape. The city's once-majestic structures now crumbled into dust, consumed by the relentless grip of time. The sky above, dominated by an unnatural black sun, bathed the scene in an unsettling twilight, creating a surreal, nightmarish aura.

Cloud's eyes locked onto the darkened sun, its foreboding presence sparking a deep, primal fear within him. Though the sun's gaze did not burn, it radiated an evil energy that gnawed at his soul, suffocating him with an oppressive sense of dread.

"This certainly gives memories of the past, does it not?" Someone thoughtfully said behind him.

He couldn't turn to look behind him, but hearing Him sent shivers down his spine. Doubt starts to settle down on him once again. How long was He going to disturb him? How long does he have to suffer like this, even after trying his best to get rid of Him? Maybe He was simply a memory coming back to haunt him. Maybe if-

The man behind him gave a faint laugh as if he had everything figured out. "Don't keep me waiting, Cloud."


The sun glared harshly over the endless expanse of the desert, turning the sand into an unforgiving sea of gold. Maribelle and Kellam were in the Shepherd's temporary camp, repairing their tools and weapons that showed signs of mending needed after their last fight. The relentless battle had taken its toll, and even Maribelle, with her noble grace and slight air of superiority, understood the necessity of this pause.

Maribelle's delicate fingers traced the length of her staff, examining it for imperfections. "Honestly, I don't understand why these creatures must always emerge in the most inhospitable places," she remarked, hinting at aristocratic disdain.

Ever the quiet and dependable knight, Kellam worked diligently on his steel lance as his large armor frame almost blended into the boulder he leaned against. His presence was often overlooked, yet he was a constant, unwavering protector. "The Risen don't exactly choose the most pleasant areas to attack," he replied, calm and unassuming. "We've just got to be ready wherever they appear next."

Maribelle sighed, brushing a stray lock of golden hair from her face. "I know, Kellam. But a lady can still wish for a bit of comfort, can't she?"

Kellam chuckled softly. "You're stronger than you think, Maribelle. You handle these hardships with more grace than most."

Maribelle's lips smiled, the compliment warming her heart. "I do appreciate your confidence in me," she said in a softer tone. "I suppose I should be thankful we're alive and able to continue our fight." She carefully adjusted the bandages on her staff, ensuring it was fit for the healing magic it needed to channel. Despite her noble demeanor, her hands were skilled and practiced, a testament to her dedication to her comrades. "Pray tell, how do you manage to move within that cumbersome metal suit under this blistering heat? It seems rather unbearable," she said, a genuine concern seeping into her tone.

Kellam paused in his work, his thoughtful eyes meeting Maribelle's. "It's definitely a challenge," he admitted, his voice steady. "The heat can be unbearable, but my armor is a part of me. It keeps me safe and allows me to protect all of you. That's what matters most."

"My dear, your dedication is indeed commendable. However, I must insist, with all due respect, that you reconsider this habit for the sake of your well-being. You simply must remove your armor at once."

He stuttered, surprised by her sudden request. "M-milady, that's a bit- I'm not sure if…"

Maribelle glared at him. "This is not a request."

"…Okay." Kellam's hands moved as he unclasped the heavy plates, setting each piece carefully on the ground. As the last piece of his armor fell away, Maribelle couldn't help but let her gaze linger on his muscular frame, his skin gleaming with a light sheen of sweat from the intense heat. His scars spoke of countless battles and tireless dedication. "Sorry, I decided not to wear any shirt because of the hot weather."

Maribelle felt a slight flush creep up her cheeks, a mix of admiration and embarrassment. She quickly masked her emotions, her aristocratic demeanor taking hold once more. "My goodness, Kellam, I hadn't realized just how… robust you are beneath all that armor." She cleared her throat delicately, her tone attempting to regain its usual sharpness. "Where did you acquire such a physique?"

"Well, I used to work in the fields and help my older brother hunt food near my village on a daily basis."

"Fields and hunting, you say?" Maribelle's eyebrows arched slightly, filled with intrigue. "Such labor must have indeed forged your strength. It's rather impressive, I must admit."

Kellam nodded humbly. "Thank you, milady. Those days taught me the value of hard work and perseverance. They've certainly prepared me for the challenges we face now."

Maribelle's eyes lingered on him a moment longer, a newfound respect evident in her gaze. "Indeed, such virtues are invaluable. I just hope it will serve us well in our most crucial mission, rescuing Exalt Emmeryn."


As Vaike greatly supported the Shepherds on the frontlines every day, he crushed foes with overwhelming power. He consistently took dangerous risks, causing concern for everyone, but healers were always there to tend to his significant wounds, and his fighting partners were always there to back him up. However, today was different. After finishing his last opponents, he was completely separated from his comrades, leaving him slightly injured in the hot desert.

"The hell? I could've sworn they were hangin' with me a second ago…" Vaike scratched his head. "Damn, will I make it on my own? No. The Vaike never gives up!"

He walked towards the small mountains. It seemed so distant from him even though he had seen it closer before. An illusion? He did not care. All that matters to him is that he regrouped with the others.

Taking out his container, he sipped his remaining water. "Huh?" Vaike tried to shake the water out, but nothing dripped out. "Aw, man... Empty already?" Returning his pouch to his belt, he continued to walk through the sand. Suddenly, multiple figures appeared before him.

One of the Grimleals pointed at him, tome ready to fire. "Hey! The enemy scouts have-!"

Vaike axed the Grimleal's skull into two from a distance. "Quit squeaking." He ran forward and plucked out his weapon from the bleeding head. "Now, who's next!?"

The other dark mages began to panic as they summoned purple particles above them. Each spell looked like Vaike might dissolve if it touched his skin, yet he rushed in. He smashed his first foe's bones to the side. Next, the second opponent's heart was crushed by Vaike's iron might. Lastly, he threw his axe again at his final enemy, who had just released his magic at him.

The purple magic grazed his against Vaike's arm as the axe flew to the magician. Not sure if his axe killed his target, he changed in with his bare fists and leaped on the man, smashing his face until he was gone. He sat still, breathing heavily as he looked around for more survivors. "No more? Good." He glanced back down at the dead man's face. "Wait... I should've asked for directions! ARGH! Sometimes, I wish I used my thinking head more!"

"Oh… How barbaric."

Vaike turned his head around. "Who?"

A dark-haired woman in dark clothing approached him from afar. "None of your concern. Now die."

Jumping to his feet, Vaike lunged forward, his fist slamming down to knock the books from her grasp. He rushed behind her, rough hands digging into her shoulder as he pulled her along the sand. "Lead me to the execution site, now!"

Her face darkened, showing no resistance. "...Fine, you monkey. Head in that direction."

Vaike tightened his grip on Tharja's shoulder, his eyes narrowing as he scanned the horizon for any signs of danger. The relentless heat of the desert beat down on them, and his injuries ached with every step. Despite his boldness, he couldn't ignore the pain aching through his body.

The woman was dragged silently beside him, her expression a mask of indifference. Vaike didn't trust her, but she was his only lead right now. "Better not be leadin' me into a trap," he grumbled, his voice a low growl.

"Just keep moving," she replied coldly, not bothering to look at him.

Vaike released her, throwing her in front of him. "Listen here, we both want outta this desert alive. So, let's make it happen, all right?"

Her eyes flickered with something unreadable but remained silent, leading the way through the shifting sands. They trudged on, the oppressive heat making every step a challenge. Vaike's throat was parched, and his strength waned, but he refused to show weakness. After what felt like hours, they stumbled upon a small oasis, a blessed respite in the barren landscape. Vaike's eyes widened in relief as he spotted the water. "Finally, some water!" He rushed forward, dropping to his knees by the pool's edge. He cupped his hands and drank deeply, the cool liquid soothing his parched throat.

She stood a short distance away, watching him with an unreadable expression. "Don't drink too much at once," she cautioned. "You'll make yourself sick."

Vaike ignored her, drinking his fill before sitting back with a satisfied sigh. "Ah, that's better. Now, let's take a breather. We got a long way to go."

The dark mage sat down, keeping her distance. Their silence was thick with distrust. They rested for a while, Vaike tending to his wounds as best he could. He tore a strip of cloth from his shirt and wrapped it around his arm, hoping to stop the bleeding.

The woman watched him, her eyes expression a cold emotion. "You should let me heal that properly," she said finally.

Vaike looked at her skeptically. "And why should I trust you?"

She shrugged. "Because if you die, you'll be useless to me. Now, hold still."

Reluctantly, Vaike extended his injured arm. The mage's hands glowed with a faint, eerie light as she invoked a healing spell. The cool sensation spread through his arm, easing the pain and mending the wound. He observed her, still wary of her motives. "Thanks," he muttered begrudgingly, pulling his arm back once she finished.

"Don't thank me yet," she replied. "We still have a long way to go, and this is just a temporary alliance."

Vaike grunted in response, not entirely satisfied but too tired to argue. As the mage moved with quiet grace, her eyes constantly scanned their surroundings for any signs of danger. Vaike couldn't help but be impressed by her composure. They continued in silence, their mutual distrust creating a palpable tension.

By the time dusk began to arrive, Vaike was barely holding on. His legs felt like lead, and his vision blurred with fatigue. She glanced at him, her expression unreadable. "I have something that might help you."

Vaike raised an eyebrow, curiosity, and suspicion mingling in his gaze. "What now?"

She approached him, her hands glowing with dark energy. "Hold still. This won't hurt... much."

Vaike tensed but stayed still, watching her warily. The mage murmured an incantation, and a strange sensation spread through his legs as if they were being infused with energy. When she finished, Vaike felt a surge of strength and speed in his limbs. "What did you do?" he asked, looking down at his legs in awe.

She smirked, her eyes glinting with amusement. "I invoked a curse to make your legs run faster on the sand. It should help you reach the place faster."

Vaike tested his newfound speed, running a short distance and back with astonishing swiftness. He couldn't help but grin. "This is incredible! Thanks, I guess."

"Don't get used to it," she replied coolly. "The curse and your healed injuries are temporary; we must make the most of it."

With renewed determination, they set off once more, moving through the desert at an incredible pace. Vaike's enhanced speed allowed them to cover ground quickly. As the sun set lower on the horizon, Vaike remained focused on the mission at hand. He had to find the Shepherds and ensure Emmeryn's safety. The curse on his legs gave him the speed he needed, but he knew it wouldn't last forever.

They pressed on, the tension between them a constant reminder of their uneasy alliance. By midnight, they had covered a significant distance. Vaike's legs burned with exertion, but the curse kept him going. They paused briefly to catch their breath, and Vaike took the opportunity to acknowledge the dark mage's help, even if he was reluctant.

"I appreciate the help," he said. "Um, what's your name?"

She narrowed her eyes. "Tharja. Don't mistake this for friendship, Vaike. We're allies out of necessity, nothing more. Now let's go."

"Yeah, yeah. Don't have- Wait… Since when did you take charge?"

"...You're dense. I'm your navigator, idiot."

Vaike grabbed her shoulders and dragged her again. "Forget it. Let's keep moving."


Writing down his strategies and ideas, Robin tirelessly dedicated himself to crafting a sound and perfect plan. The weight of the impending danger pressed heavily on his shoulders; the Exalt Emmeryn was at risk of public execution by the Mad King, Gangrel, and he couldn't afford to fail her.

"After the Khan does her part, we should use the rocks to our advantage and…" Robin muttered to himself, scribbling furiously on a wrinkled piece of parchment. He furrowed his brow, dismissing the thought. "No. That's too risky and slow. Using their abandoned forts… No! It could be booby-trapped… Instead, let's maybe—"

"Robin!" The flaps of the convoy burst open as Cordelia entered, her face burning and breath coming in sharp gasps. "I flew everywhere, including the last place I saw Vaike, but I couldn't find him!"

Robin's inked quill paused mid-sentence as he looked up, a frown forming. "Where did this muscle head wander off to this time?" He sat back, pinching the bridge of his nose, a sense of dread creeping in.

"Will we be fine with one of our members missing?" Cordelia's voice trembled slightly, a mix of frustration and worry evident in her tone.

"The plan won't change for the most part," Robin replied reassuringly, although uncertainty flickered in his eyes. Shaking his head, he tried to calm his nerves. "Oh well. Whenever he gets lost, that man somehow always finds his way back to us."

Cordelia crossed her arms, a skeptical look on her face. "Sounds unreliable. Don't you guys put any discipline into him?"

"Heh." Robin let out a laugh that was half amusement, half exasperation. "I heard a few tried to but never succeeded. But I don't mind it. There have been numerous times when his brashness has saved us from the enemy's blade. Remember that time when he charged in and drew their fire away from the village? It was reckless, but it worked!"

Cordelia's shoulders dropped as she considered his words. "I guess that's true…" Her eyes wandered to the chaotic pile of papers lying beside him. "What are you doing?"

His anxiety reignited, and his fingers fidgeted with the edge of a map. "Oh, this? I was just…" He hesitated, the stress starting to seep back in. "I was just trying to come up with a strategy."

"Strategy? I thought we already had one," Cordelia said, eyebrows raised, a hint of confusion in her voice.

Robin shook his head, his expression serious. "We do… but what if it ends up failing?" The shadows beneath his eyes deepened as he leaned over his plans, anxiety coiling tightly in his gut. "We're dealing with the Mad King, Cordelia. He does not seem like someone who will play fair. Every detail matters. Any slight miscalculation could lead to disaster, not just for us, but for Emmeryn as well."

"…"

Seeing the worry on her face, he took a deep breath, trying to remain calm. "I know it can feel overwhelming, but we can't just rely on luck. We need a solid plan, one that accounts for every possible variable. Emmeryn's life is hanging in the balance, and I won't let everyone down, especially Chrom and Lissa."

Cordelia stepped closer, a supportive touch to her demeanor. "You won't, Robin. We're in this together. No plan is perfect, but we'll do everything we can to rescue her. If our plans fail, I know you will turn the situation back on course at the battlefield."

"Well, you not wrong…" Robin managed a small smile, grateful for her unwavering support. "Hey, I noticed you've lately been quite friendly to me these days."

As Cordelia turned her head away, a memory floated to the surface of her mind, an embarrassing misunderstanding that still made her cringe days later.

It was while the Shepherds had set up a temporary camp near a rocky outcrop, Robin and she were deep in the desert, tasked with searching for any remaining Risen after their fight. Robin, the diligent strategist, was pouring over notes while Cordelia scouted the area with her white pegasus.

As the sun shone brighter, they decided to rest in the shade of the rocks. Robin opened his map as Cordelia sat beside him. At some point, she caught a glimpse of something shimmering in the sands. "Hey, Robin, look!" she said, pointing at what seemed to be an old piece of jewelry half-buried in the sand. "It might be some ancient treasure."

"Really?" Robin looked up, a spark of interest lighting his eyes as he stood and brushed the sand off his legs. "Let's check it out!" As they approached the spot, Cordelia bent down to dig it out, only for Robin to beat her to it. "I got it!" he exclaimed, his voice triumphant. His hands emerged from the sand with something shiny, but instead of a beautiful necklace or bracelet, he held an ancient-looking, dusty hairpin that could barely be recognized under layers of dirt.

"Uh…" Cordelia hesitated, glancing at the object in his hands. "That's… not as impressive as I thought."

However, Robin was already inspecting it closely, his brow furrowing in concentration. "It's a bit beaten up, but the craftsmanship looks ancient. It might be worth something." Suddenly, a gust of wind kicked up sand from the desert floor, and as Robin turned slightly, a fine cloud of it went flying into his face. He sputtered and instinctively wiped his eyes, losing his grip on the pin. The hairpin flew from his hand, landing perfectly in Cordelia's hair, sticking there as if it belonged.

"Robin!" she shouted, both surprised and flustered, as she felt the blunt object digging into her scalp. She reached up to remove it, but in haste, she tangled her fingers in her hair, only making the situation worse. "OOW!"

"I didn't mean to!" he said, eyes wide as he tried to stifle a laugh, realizing how absurd the situation looked. "You look like the lady from the old stories Sumia gave me!"

"Not funny!" Cordelia shot back, feeling heat rise to her cheeks as small tears started to appear in her eyes. "Help me get this out!"

Robin stepped forward, still trying to keep a straight face as he gently tugged at her hair, trying to free the pin. "Okay, okay, just hold still."

As he worked away, a mix of embarrassment and frustration overwhelmed Cordelia. "I can't believe this! I'm supposed to be focusing on our mission, and here I am, stuck with a relic in my hair!"

"Hey, at least it's a nice accessory," Robin joked lightly, finally freeing the pin and holding it up like a trophy. "See? I told you it was valuable!"

Cordelia sighed, exasperated. "If you hadn't flung it at me, it would never have been a problem! I should be the one holding it proudly, not you!"

With a good-natured grin, he offered her the pin. "Well, it can still be your prized possession. Just don't wear it again, or I'll have to watch you like a griffin!"

As they returned back to work, Cordelia couldn't shake the moment's embarrassment. She knew it had been a simple misunderstanding, but she felt as though she hadn't maintained her usual composure. "I don't need any more accessories," she replied.

"Suit yourself. But you've got to admit, it made our day a little more interesting!" Robin said as he still chuckled to himself.

The quick memory faded as Cordelia returned to the current situation, a mix of irritation and fondness swirling within her. "As if! I still haven't forgotten what you did that day," she said.

"Hey, it was an accident! A funny one, at least!" he defended, laughing lightly. "But it didn't distract you from the mission, did it?"

"Only slightly," she admitted, her tone softening. "But Robin, if you remember that, maybe you should calm down too. Stressing yourself like this won't get you anywhere. You already presented us with the 'perfect' plan in mind, and that is good enough as is."

Looking up at Cordelia, Robin grinned. "I suppose you're right. We will start soon, so I better see how everyone else is doing."


Stationed outside the enemy territory, Marth stared at the path ahead. With her finger, she counted and analyzed her foes. Fifteen mages to the left. Seventeen ground fighters to the right. Nine wyvern riders to the top. Six archers to the back. Possibly more reinforcement soon.

"Are you ready to fight, Marth?" Severa asked.

Marth unsheathed her Parallel Falchion, placing it straight against her face. "I won't let them alter this timeline as they wish."

Nodding, Severa drew both her steel sword and her short Parallel Fusion Sword. "So will I."

"My father will take care of your aunt. Just focus on eliminating their forces for now," Mirage said.

"Sure thing…" Marth stopped. "Wait, Mirage?! When did you get here?"

"Just now," Mirage answered. "The Khans gave us a big request to come and help you guys out. Well, I would have helped you guys anyway, even if we didn't get one."

"I appreciate it."

"EVERYONE: NOW!" As Robin yelled, the Shepherds and their Feroxi forces charged forward, clashing against the Plegian army. Arrows and magic elements of different kinds bombarded the battlefield.

Marth and Mirage charged into the fray, their swords gleaming under the chaotic sky. Marth's Parallel Falchion sliced through the air, cutting down enemies with precision. With her central Parallel Fusion Blade, Mirage danced through the battlefield, her movements a blur of lethal grace.

As they fought side by side, their rivalry simmered beneath the surface. They moved in sync, yet there was an unspoken tension between them. Marth's eyes flicked to Mirage, noting her strength and speed. Mirage, in turn, glanced at Marth, acknowledging her skill but feeling the need to prove herself more superior than her.

In the heat of battle, a slight misstep occurred. Marth focused on an incoming mage and didn't notice Mirage moving in the same direction. Their shoulders brushed, and for a split second, they stumbled. It was a minor bump but enough to ignite the spark of competition.

"Watch where you're going," Marth muttered, her tone sharp.

"Maybe you should keep up, princess," Mirage retorted, her voice equally bitter.

They continued to fight, but now their movements had an edge. Each strike was not just against their enemies but also a silent challenge to each other. Marth's attacks became more forceful, and her determination not to be outdone drove her forward. Mirage, slightly stronger, pushed herself to maintain her lead, her pride on the line. As the battle raged on, their competition grew fiercer, and each tried to outdo the other without losing sight of their ultimate goal.

Severa watched Marth and Mirage from a distance, her grip tightening around her blades. She admired their strength and skill, but jealousy gnawed at her. Deep down, she knew she wasn't as strong as they were, yet she wanted to prove herself. Charging forward, her eyes fixed on a group of enemy soldiers. She fought with all her might, her movements fueled by a mix of determination and envy.

"Severa, watch out!" Marth's voice cut through the chaos.

Severa barely had time to react as an enemy soldier lunged at her. She parried the attack, her heart racing. "Thanks, Marth," Severa muttered, her tone a mix of gratitude and frustration. She hated feeling like she needed their help, the feeling of weakness.

"Focus, Severa," Mirage said, her voice calm and steady. "We need to work together."

"Okay." Severa knew Mirage meant well to her, but it didn't make the jealousy any easier to bear. Pushing herself harder, she was committed to showing that she could be stronger than they were.


After the Tharja's curse ran out, Vaike's breath became harsher as he continued to stroll through the Plegian desert. The woman whom he was dragging noticed his condition. "Tired?" Tharja asked.

"Not at all. We are almost there," Vaike barked.

"…And why were you dragging me in this position again?"

"Because I don't fully trust you," he replied curtly.

"Heh. Yet you follow my directions. What a hypocrite." She winced as Vaike gripped her harder.

"Don't talk," Vaike whispered. "We're here."

Suddenly stopping, they arrived near the Plegian Castle's courtyard walls. The towering walls cast a long shadow that offered a momentary respite from the blazing sun. Hearing someone faintly speaking aloud from the other side, Vaike glanced at Tharja. "That's the Mad King behind these walls. Ya know how to get in?"

"I know how to get in. But what will you do then? Die for nothing?" she asked.

He pointed at himself, proudly grinning like an idiot. "You must've not heard, but the Vaike is stronger than you think."

"Don't let them fall back!" Both of them looked to their side to see Chrom and Robin leading the Shepherds from afar. Vaike turned to his hostage as he moved his hand to grab his axe. "I don't need ya anymore." However, his axe wasn't there. "Wha- Dammit. Forgot my axe. Fine, I'll get rid of you with my fists."

*VROOO– CLANG*

A bright flash of blue light, followed by a large black object, passed them, crashing into the courtyard's walls. A large hole in the wall cracked into pieces, and its bricks began to crumble, smashing the sandy floor around them. This startled them both.

"What's going on?!" Vaike yelled.

Tharja covered her head. "Like I know."

Suddenly, the sand beneath them began to sink, consuming their feet. Vaike tried to lift himself up but with little success. "Come on! I didn't plan to go out like this!"

She also tried to resist the quicksand, but just like Vaike, she could not get out. Seeing the barbarian hold his nose as a last resort, she copied his attempt, hoping she would somehow make it out alive. Closing her eyes, her head completely sunk in the sand. Trying to swim back to the surface, she felt someone's hand grabbing her. Gripping their hands, she was pulled out of the sand pile, gasping for air. She looked up to see Vaike release her hands. "Why did you help me?"

Vaike turned away from her. "It just felt like the right thing to do."

"Hmph. I'm your enemy." She smirked. "Who knows, I might stab your back."

To that, he laughed. "You? Stab the Vaike? It takes more than that to break this tough body!"

"Really? Maybe I shall test that."

Vaike shrugged. "With that flimsy body of yers? Yeah, sure. But first, can ya tell me where we are?"

Tharja shook off the sand clinging to her revealing clothes as she looked around. The place they had fallen from was covered in sand and large chunks of stone. The path ahead led further into the underground hallway lit with purple torches. "I have no clue."

"Then let's find a way out; um, what's your name again?"

"Tharja. I don't understand you. Why are you acting so friendly to me? Not too long ago, you were about to take my life."

"I was just going to knock ya out hard, not kill you." Vaike began to walk forward. "And besides, you don't seem like my enemy. That's all."

"Just simple intuition?" Following him, Tharja glared in annoyance. "What a fool," she mumbled.


Breaching the walls, Cloud sped through the castle's courtyard. He spotted Emmeryn standing high at the edge of Grima's supposed long horns. He also found Gangrel and his men blocking his way forward. Pointing his hollow Fusion Sword at Plegia's king, Cloud yelled, "Surrender now!"

Gangrel observed him in confusion. "And who might you be? Part of the prince's merry band?!"

"No. I'm here to take back the Exalt right here and now!"

"Is that so?" The Mad King pointed at Cloud. "THEN KILL HIM AS WELL!"

Plegian wyvern riders, archers, and mages rushed at him, firing projectiles at Cloud while he pushed on the pedal. Blocking the arrows and axes, he drove through the magic spells as if it didn't matter. Passing by Gangrel and another important-looking lady beside him at maximum speed, he climbed up the steep rocky hill with his Fenrir.

"G-GET HIM!" Gangrel shouted in panic.

Cloud executed a sharp U-turn, racing along the length of the giant skull's horns. He leaped from his bike as he reached the horn's tip, seizing the Exalt mid-air. In a seamless motion, he landed back on his bike just in time to steer it off the horn's edge, plunging into the ground below.

*SLAM*

"Where did this monster come from!?" the dark lady beside the king responded in surprise. She quickly began summoning multiple Risen seemingly out of nowhere. "Don't let him escape!"

The undead, who were all archers, began showering arrows at Fenrir. Cloud combined his hollow blade with its central part and lifted his sword from behind, blocking the arrows from the Exalt's frail body. "Are you all right, Emmeryn?"

Emmeryn, who was clinging to his back, slightly nodded. "Yeah… but my head… it feels like I'm spinning."

"It must be motion sickness, but I'm not stopping yet. You better hang on tight!" Pushing through, Cloud managed to pass by the army of Risen. They arrived where the Shepherds were fighting. Multiple Plegians fell as the Ylissian and Feroxi forces pushed forward.

Piercing his enemies with the Falchion, Chrom noticed Fenrir approaching. "Is that Cloud and… Emm?"

Halting his bike to a stop, Cloud handed over his older sister. "I'll deal with the Plegians. You take her to safety."

The prince nodded. "Thanks. I owe you one."

As Chrom ran back to secure his sister, Cloud focused on the opposing soldiers. "I'm your new opponent, assholes!" Stepping to gear, he charged at the enemies, severing many in half. This wiped out about half of their forces, plus their commander in the area.

The remaining forces began to step back out of fear. "W-what is that?"

"There's no way we can beat him… Re-retreat. Retreat!"

Gangrel's face twisted into a disgusted scorn. "What sort of nonsense is this? I WANTED HER DEAD YOU FOOLS!"

Even though she was equally frustrated, the lady beside him whispered something to his ears. The more she talked, the more the King grinned. "I like your idea, Aversa. I'll order the remaining army to regroup."

Cloud stopped pursuing them as the soldiers and King fled to the castle. He drove back to the Shepherds to see if anyone needed assistance. "Is everyone doing all right?"

"Our forces suffered a few injuries, but nothing our healers can't handle," Robin said. "Although I haven't seen one of my friends yet."

"Who's missing?"

"Vaike. Have you seen him lately?"

Cloud thought for a moment. "…I think I might have seen him nearby not too long ago."

Robin's eyes lit up. "Really? Can you bring him back?"

"Of course." Hopping on his bike, Cloud remembered something. "Wait, Robin. Do you know what this is?" He took out a small rectangular box.

"… Well, it does look familiar," Robin observed. "Why ask?"

"Someone wanted me to deliver it to a special individual. She never told me who they were, so I asked many people if it was theirs. However, those who claimed to be the receiver could not open the box." Cloud handed him the item. "If you think you know what this is, you should try opening the lock yourself."

Robin took the box, examining it closely. "I think I remember, but my memory of the past is still hazy. Maybe something like this?" Touching the lock, his left hand began to glow brightly. The box opened and revealed an obsidian-colored feather surrounded by soft fabric. "Huh. A rare feather?"

Cloud shrugged. "Well, it's all yours. The sender said it was important. You should probably keep it safe."

"Okay. What's this sender's name anyway? I might know this person."

"Elara." The name slipped from Cloud's lips, and it hung in the air, both strange and intriguing.

Trying to remember if he had heard such a name, Robin shook his head, his mind racing through past encounters and whispers of the past. "Nope. First time hearing her." A flicker of doubt crossed his face, but he shrugged it off, focusing on the moment.

"I see." Cloud turned his focus back to the walls, the rough sandstone covered with age. "I'll go search for your friend."

"Cloud! Wait for me!"

Both boys turned to see Olivia rushing over, her eyes wide with determination. Her pink ponytail swayed as she ran, a spark of passion fueling her urgency. The way she moved, always a blend of grace and strength, reminded Cloud why he admired her.

"You're coming along?" Cloud's voice held a protective edge. Concern was etched in his features as he considered the dangers of venturing into enemy territory.

"Of course I am. You still haven't forgotten what we're dealing with?" Olivia shot back, her tone both teasing and serious. She stepped up beside Cloud, glancing at him with a hint of challenge in her eyes; they were now partners in every sense, and she wouldn't let him face anything alone.

He nodded, the gravity of her question settling in. "I haven't forgotten. Henry said the next Materia is nearby."

"Henry? Materia?" Robin wondered aloud, his voice filled with curiosity. He leaned closer, wanting to grasp the complete story.

"Just another work one of my customers requested me to do." Hopping on the bike with Olivia following behind him, Cloud shot one last glance at Robin. "I'll find Vaike as soon as possible. If we come across trouble, Mirage will notify you. Stay safe."

Robin simply nodded. "Um, okay."

Nodding back, Cloud rode with Olivia to where he last destroyed the wall. Arriving at the ruined site, he found a hole leading down a tunnel. It wasn't large enough to fit his bike. So, hopping off, he looked at Olivia, confirming if she was ready to head in. The unknown journey awaited them further in the dark as they entered the dungeon.