7
CHAPTER 7 – JOURNEY TO THE DEPTHS
The sun had finally set in the distance, drawing the night's darkness over the ocean. Only the light radiating from the research center far below broke through the shroud, like a gleaming beacon on the water. Selphie could hardly see a thing beyond its radius. There was nothing else in these parts to provide her better visibility, nor had there been for at least a century. More immediately discomforting was the frigid wind chill. And yet, only within the last few minutes had it even registered to her.
From the initial fright as she'd been whisked up and away, to the exhilaration as she'd coasted about on the dragon's back in the fading twilight, there hadn't been a pause for her to consider how cold it was. Just keeping herself saddled in place had taken enough effort. There was always her nunchaku should she need a pair of makeshift reigns, though her better judgment told her not to do so; wrapping the chain around the dragon's neck would be the only secure hold, something she doubted it would take kindly to. Thankfully, after about an hour, she'd gradually become accustomed to all the dips and dives. With a glance down and off to the side, she could tell Irvine had likewise gotten the hang of things on the other one.
"Thanks again for all this," she spoke to her dragon, patting the scales on the back of its neck. "We're happy to help you guys out, too."
It did not respond, nor give any indication it was listening. Selphie wouldn't know what to expect, regardless. That it was even willing to let itself be mounted, much less after the damage Irvine's grenade had done to its face, beggared belief. Neither had its friend shown resistance to the prospect. It spoke not only to the severity of the circumstances, but also to the high degree of intelligence they clearly possessed; moombas were the closest comparison Selphie could think of. She still didn't fully understand the situation, nor just where the creatures had come from, or how they'd known of the information stored on the research center server. Whatever the case, she was happy to know they were at least amicable.
Their comrades' plan was simple, perhaps even too much so; there was still so much unknown as to what awaited them below. At the first sign of the giant creature's next emergence from the depths, the dragons would launch their usual counterattack, this time as a duo. Meanwhile, Squall and the others would descend into the bowels of the research center, in search of access to the enigmatic power source on the ocean floor. It had to exist; the dragons had made no objection as they'd all discussed the plan in their midst.
When deciding who would stay behind to keep tabs on the diversion, Selphie had personally volunteered. She felt it was her responsibility, as the mediator who'd broached the truce between man and beast to begin with. Evidently, the dragons had felt the same. The one she now rode on in particular seemed to have taken a liking to her. It had outright refused to be so much as touched by Irvine, and willingly offered her a place on its back once the others had set off on their way. The whirling, impromptu flight that followed had been a sudden yet thrilling surprise. Selphie certainly hadn't expected anything of the sort when she'd taken the position. Indeed, now that there was an opportunity for her to think things through, she realized how useless she would be on its back in the midst of the battle. Irvine at least had his assault rifle.
She carefully took one hand from the dragon's scaly neck and fumbled for the sphere in her uniform's pocket. Withdrawing it, she could see the gleaming holy energy seeping out from its casing. It looked no different from the type contained within her old one. And yet, in all the time since Squall had given it to her, she'd never managed to draw forth even a smidgen of it. Her latest attempt in the face of the dragon had made it clear nothing had changed. Now, perched atop its back, in wait for the monster to show itself, she felt impotent to help in any way.
She closed her eyes in frustration, trying her hardest to focus in on the sphere's essence once more. It always seemed to be just out of her reach, and beyond that, somehow unfamiliar; despite its looks, the energy simply would not respond to her in the same way. To her surprise however, this time was different. Straight away, it felt so much more immediate and all-encompassing, its resonance both stronger and distinctly more akin to what she'd always known. The revelation was almost enough to break her concentration; it had been so long since she'd felt that unmistakable rush of power that even a trickle was enough to excite her. Had the long drought finally subsided?
Working at speed, she mentally reached out for the energy, hoping to conjure something, anything from it. To her dismay, still nothing came when she attempted to cast a healing spell. Still, she refused to give up; the power was there, just waiting for her to take hold. She instead pivoted to fire spellcraft, visualizing the flames just as she'd seen them shoot forth from the dragon's mouth. Within moments, she at last found success. The flames danced and twirled within the palm of her free hand, the heat licking at her fingers in the frigid cold. It was a sight more beautiful than any she could imagine. In that moment, she knew her eyes must have been gleaming just as brightly.
[There! Coming up on the left!]
As the voice suddenly shot through her mind, her focus faltered, causing the fire to evaporate from her grasp. She darted her eyes all about, wondering if it hadn't been a figment of her imagination. If not, who or what else could it have been? The dragon, however intelligent it was, had yet to demonstrate it could speak. Even if it somehow had the capability, the wind whipping past would have made it impossible for her to make out any words. These had been remarkably clear, almost seeming to reach her consciousness on a different level altogether. After several moments of fruitless contemplation, she took heed of them.
Craning her neck over the dragon's, she looked down upon the water a ways to the left of the facility. Sure enough, the waves had begun swelling in a giant circle, like a whirlpool. The creature's surfacing was imminent. As the tip of its wide dome finally broke through, she saw Irvine's dragon swoop down and in from one side, ready to take the initiative. Not wasting time, she re-pocketed her sphere, and grabbed on tight to the most rigid cluster of scales her hands could find. The winged beast dove straight down the moment she'd secured her grip, zooming in at breakneck speed.
No matter the billowing breeze, nor the evasive maneuvers as the first volley of laser blasts shot out from the monster's many gleaming protrusions across its hide, she did not let go. Her determination had returned along with her capacity to wield the sphere's power. She was prepared to do whatever she could to assist, not merely for her own sake, but also for that of her friends, the White SeeDs, the dragons, and perhaps most importantly, the memory of her father. He was long gone, of that there was no doubt. What faint hope she'd still clung to after five long years had finally been snuffed out. Difficult as it was to accept, she knew she had to move on. Helping to rid the sea of the menace that had claimed him was all that could give her the closure she sought now. Her conscience was clear. She had no regrets.
This one's for you, dad.
Navigating the dilapidated halls of the research center had been so much easier with the auxiliary power active. In no time at all, the White SeeDs had led Squall's group down to the lower levels. The path had drawn them towards the heart of the facility, and down to a depth roughly where the generator had been. Squall couldn't tell exactly how far at a glance. There were no windows, nor much of anything in the room besides a computer terminal opposite the door they'd entered through, and an open hatch in the center of the floor. The level below was completely flooded.
It was a relatively tight squeeze for the six of them. If the terminal's readouts as Zell described them were anything to go by however, the chamber's function had been strictly transitory in nature. Nestled squarely in the center of the facility, it sat atop a tiered subsection protruding from the bottom. The hatch appeared to be the only route proceeding further down based on the White SeeDs' reconnaissance efforts. With the power off, they had simply chalked it up as a dead end and moved on. Now, with the system operational again, there seemed to be more options available than they'd first assumed.
According to the terminal, the underwater tower beneath their position was comprised of 6 interlocking levels circling around the central pillar. Each was sectioned off into multiple, evenly spaced sectors, presumably for the purpose of containing any potential flooding. And so, in order to reorient the floors in the event one sector became blocked in on all sides, a system had been set up whereby each level could be fully rotated via the master control console up top. It appeared to be their only hope for reaching the deepest depths of the research center now.
"You really think you can work it?" Squall asked Zell once again.
"Not like I've got a choice," he replied, not raising his eyes from the monitors. "Here's hoping we have enough power in reserve to even make it to the bottom."
"Or that the tower hasn't been completely flooded," Quistis added.
"There's a massive hole stemming from one of the laboratories up on the main floor," Reiner began to explain. "Provided it goes straight down all the way, the flooding ought to be localized to just one column."
"And that's only if the structural integrity's held up all these years," Brent reminded them all. "There's an awful lot of uncertainty around this plan, isn't there? We don't even really know what we're looking for."
Guess we'll find out when we get there…
Squall would be the first to admit his skepticism. Besides the already raised concerns, each of which would have given him ample pause alone, there was still the biggest of them all to consider: how could any sane, rational person be expected to cooperate with the two dragons, much less accept them as allies? The notion was inconceivable at the very least. But, given their decidedly non-aggressive demeanor towards them, as well as the information stored on the central server, and Selphie, Quistis, Irvine, and Liza's testimony, he and the others had reluctantly gone along with the proposed plan.
He now had no doubt that the dragons were a byproduct of whatever experiments had been going on at the facility before its collapse. They were far too intelligent and human-savvy to be borne of nature. Whether that had been the intended outcome, he had no idea. Neither did he care for the time being; clearing the way for the Garden's return took priority above all else now. Still, the resulting implications continued to nag at him all the while. Could it be the giant creature from the depths possessed a comparable intellect? And if so, what did it say to the nature of the supposed enigmatic power source far down on the ocean floor?
"Well, here goes nothing," Zell grunted as he typed in a few keystrokes on the console.
Almost right away, there came a rumbling from beneath their feet. Squall glanced down to the open hatch, and immediately noticed a change: the previously tepid water had begun flowing faster. He understood the reality of the illusion; the water itself was not moving, but rather the chamber itself. Before long, the dividing section of reinforced wall swept through, carrying the tide along with it. He exhaled in relief as the neighboring sector swung into view; that he could even see the floor lifted a huge weight off his chest. Everything, from the encircling glass windows to the row of computer consoles lined up along the room's inner rim, still seemed to be intact.
Able to breathe easy again for the moment, his nose just as quickly caught a whiff of something foul. The pungent rotting stench was enough to make his eyes water as it wafted up and out of the chamber. As the level gradually settled into place at its designated spot, the bottom of the hatch locking up with a staircase running down, he could tell the cause. The decomposed bodies of three scientists lay slumped over on the floor all around the base of the steps. They'd undoubtedly been stuck on the lower levels in the midst of whatever had gone wrong, doomed to slowly wither away.
"Ugh!" Liza winced in disgust, pinching her nose. "And I thought the scene upstairs was gross."
"Don't complain," Reiner chided her; he wrinkled his own nose at the odor, but otherwise showed no hesitance to head on down.
"I mean, I'm gonna have to stay up here and operate this thing, right?" Zell interjected. "It'd probably be smart to have someone else watching my back, just in case."
Squall nearly snorted; he just barely stopped himself when he realized it would cost him another unpleasant whiff. Besides the dragons and the giant creature from the depths, he'd yet to see another living creature anywhere aboard the research center. Surely the last remaining test subjects had been gobbled up long ago, or otherwise had flown or swam away if able. But then, if there was one solitary thing out of the entire situation he could be sure of, it was that anything was possible. Liza looked to Reiner for approval. With a slight nod of his head, it was granted.
"Then, let's get moving," Quistis announced. Though her voice was directed to them all, she had eyes for Squall alone.
Sucking a deep breath in through his mouth, he took the initiative and descended through the hatch. He swept his gaze over the wide, curved stretch of room as his head passed below the threshold. The stairs trailed down to meet the floor roughly in the center. To one end was the sealed bulwark connecting to the adjacent flooded sector. Craning his neck back, he saw another just like it in the opposite direction. Whether or not the hull had been breached on the other side as well, he wasn't about to fling the door open and find out.
As he carefully stepped off and maneuvered around the cluster of corpses, his attention was drawn out the tower's glass windows. The research center's upper level stretched out overhead, now lit up all across its underside. Despite the increased visibility, the ocean depths below still looked every bit as forbidding as they had from the auxiliary power station. And yet, there was one greater discrepancy still, too gargantuan to possibly miss.
"Unbelievable," Brent exhaled in awe.
Squall silently concurred. He'd already shared water space with the massive creature before, and could attest to how insignificant he'd felt in its presence. Even now, at a distance, the span of its wide dome rising from the ocean floor beggared belief. The dividing glass likewise did nothing to ease his nerves; it surely could rip the entire station apart within minutes if it so chose.
As it drew closer to the surface, the long, thick tendril extending from its bottom came into view. Unlike the jellyfish it otherwise so closely resembled, there were no others surrounding the dangling appendage. Neither did it appear to serve the same purpose; based on its physical makeup, he couldn't see how it might be conductive to electricity. Tufts of white feather-like growth ran all along, just as across the creature's head, with garish seams of purple sinew exposed in between. At the bottom protruded a gleaming, translucent bubble of a slightly lighter shade. As Squall's focus fell on it, he swore he could see something inside. He squinted his eyes through the windowpane. With the aid of the facility lights above, he could just barely make out what looked like the outline of a humanoid female within.
What the hell even is that thing?
"Testing, testing! Is this thing working?"
He abruptly spun around with the rest of his team. They all looked just as startled; the scratchy, amplified voice had come out of nowhere. As Squall darted his eyes every which way to deduce its source, they landed on an intercom speaker fixed to the inside wall. He stepped away from the window and crossed to its side just as it crackled to life again.
"Testing!" Zell's voice spoke from it once more."Do you guys read me?"
"We hear you," he responded with a press of the receiver switch.
"Awesome! I figured there had to be a way to page each level."
Squall would also have assumed as much had he not been distracted. At the very least, it would help to better communicate which floors were in need of moving without needing to send a messenger back and forth. He quickly turned his eyes to the next hatch set into the floor. It was still sealed, providing no view of the level below. It made no difference; logic told him what awaited.
"We ought to turn this one back where it was," Quistis spoke for him. "That's probably our best bet for a straight shot to the bottom."
He agreed. By the White SeeDs' account, the rest of the column directly below was surely flooded. More important to consider still was their potentially limited power supply. The optimal route to take would be the one that expended the least amount.
"Did you catch that?" he talked back into the receiver.
"Loud and clear!"
A few moments later, the plated floor began to swivel. Squall threw one hand against the wall to keep himself steady, and craned his neck back towards the window. Quistis, Reiner, and Brent were all hunched in place with their legs spread apart to do the same. Through the glass, he could see the mammoth creature, its dome now fully surfaced, slowly draw away as the room rotated. It soon slipped out of sight beyond the periphery, leaving nothing but open ocean stretching out into the distance. Finally, the floor settled. Reiner stepped forward and thrust open the hatch. To their collective delight, all was indeed dry below.
"All clear," Squall punched the intercom once more. "We'll call up when we need you again."
"Rodger!"
It was only as he removed himself from the wall to follow after his comrades that he realized their new predicament: in moving the floor back into position, they were now effectively cut off. Though he doubted Zell and Liza were in any immediate danger, least of all compared to Selphie and Irvine, the notion suddenly became all the more worrying. Their safety was now imperative to them ever seeing the surface again. He stopped at the lip of the hatch to take one last look at the decayed scientists, doomed long ago to rot in this hole with no chance for escape. He could only hope their fate would not be his and his comrades' to share by the end of it all.
The next level's dimensions and layout were virtually identical to the one above. Another pair of sealed blast doors bookended the semi-circle, with a closed floor hatch in the exact same spot near the center. The only difference as far as he could tell was a lack of corpses. Satisfied, he immediately reverted to breathing in through his nose upon touching down off the steps. It was then he realized just how thin the air seemed to be; whether it were due to the ventilation system having been in disuse for so long, or the oxygen supply having been sucked up by the scientists above, it was significantly harder to breathe even without the permeating stench of death all around. It made no difference. He and the others quickly pushed onward to the tower's third level, thankful to find it too was structurally sound.
Their streak of luck came to an end as Reiner threw open the fourth hatch. Seeing the chamber below was completely filled to the brim, Squall promptly stepped over to the intercom and pressed the button.
"Give level 4 a spin for us," he ordered.
"On it!" Zell responded.
As he waited, he pondered the ramifications of another sector being flooded. His stare met Quistis' from across the divide. She seemed to recognize his concern: they were no longer aligned with the column they'd assumed to be affected. He quickly swiveled his eyes back to the hatch as the rumbling kicked up, and the room below began to turn clockwise. In swept the dividing bulwark, just as before. And yet, to his dismay, what awaited on the other side looked no different.
"Perfect," Brent grumbled. "Looks like the whole floor's been breached."
"Let's not jump to conclusions," Quistis suggested, turning back to Squall. "Let's have Zell give it one more turn."
"Why don't we give it a look down there first?" Reiner countered. "Before we go expending more power than we need to."
Squall nodded his head to the lieutenant. It was essential they conserve whatever energy they could to facilitate their return. He knelt down by the open hatch's side, leaned forward, took a breath, and dipped his head into the water. The cold chill washed over his thick brown locks, penetrating through to his scalp. His eyes and mouth followed as he lowered himself further, submerging himself right up to his jacket's collar. He reopened his eyes underneath to peer down into the waterlogged chamber.
His field of vision, though hazy, extended far enough for him to get his bearings. Within moments, the problem became clear. Though the stretch of windows directly before him looked intact, the blast doors set into the bulwark on either end were wide open, leaving presumably the entire level flooded all the way around. The hatch leading down on the other hand was still sealed. Provided it was indeed air-tight, there was a chance the sector below had yet to be compromised. But how were they to proceed? Before he could come up with a plan, he knew he needed to come up for air first. He raised his head back up out of the water, wiped his drooping, wet fringe from his eyes, and turned to his comrades.
"The doors on either side are open down there," he told them.
"Meaning the whole floor's flooded?" Reiner inferred; the disappointment in his voice was evident.
Squall nodded. As he pushed himself up to his knees, he began to consider their options.
"So, what now?" Brent followed up.
"How can you be sure the doors are open all the way around?" Quistis asked skeptically. "I still think we should get Zell to spin it a bit further, just in case."
"No," Squall insisted. "There might be another way. The chamber right below us looks like it's still intact. On top of that, the floor hatch is sealed. If the next level isn't flooded as well, we could close both doors on either end, open the hatch, and let the water drain down."
The plan he'd quickly devised was basic physics. All the same, it was hardly foolproof. In the interest of making the trip to the bottom as efficiently as they could however, he was willing to give it a try. He cast his arms back to shimmy out of his leather jacket, letting it fall to the floor.
"And if it is flooded down there as well?" Reiner shot him a cocked eyebrow.
"Only one way to find out. I'm going in."
He maneuvered himself to sit on the edge of the hatch, letting his legs and the bottom of his gunblade sheathe sink into the water. Though he'd considered leaving the weapon behind, he knew it might well come in handy should there be any debris to clear. Before he could shove off, a pair of beige pants stepped before him on the other side. He followed them up to Brent's stern face looking down on him.
"Two can cover more ground," he spoke lowly.
Squall hadn't even thought to ask for assistance. Upon further consideration, he realized how foolish he'd been for neglecting his squad. Even now, after nearly two months as commandant, maintaining his own self-perception as a leader was still difficult.
"You take the left side," he ordered.
Brent nodded. Despite his faction's disparity from Balamb Garden, he seemed perfectly willing to recognize his authority. Still, Squall looked to Reiner out of respect. He returned the gesture with a nod of his own.
Not wasting any more time, Squall sucked in a deep breath, and took the plunge. His feet touched down on the stairs as his head was fully submerged. He opened his eyes, oriented himself towards the right-hand stretch of hall, and pushed off. Even with the water's buoyancy, it was still slow going as he stroked his way forward. His steel-toed boots required he put more effort into each kick, to speak nothing of his gunblade weighing him down. Nevertheless, he could manage it; he'd already swam his way to the research center with the same encumberment.
He briefly glanced back to see Brent tearing along in the opposite direction. From the speed and fluidity with which he maneuvered, Squall doubted he could have matched him even without the additional weight. It came as no surprise given the White SeeDs' lifestyle. Surely they had all been far more experienced swimmers than the average Balamb operative. It wouldn't have surprised him to learn that they had all developed better breath support as well. Turning his eyes back ahead, the open doorway was drawing closer with every stroke of his arms.
As opposed to the current chamber, the one beyond was shrouded in darkness. The lighting circuits had clearly been knocked out. Still, courtesy of those shining down from the facility's underside, he could make out the jagged mess of shattered glass and bent girders that had once been the window. This had to be one of the sectors that had made up the bored-through column. Given its current position relative to one rotation of the floor, there had to be three total per level. He could now safely assume the entire span of this one was flooded. If his plan didn't work, he couldn't realistically see a way for them to make it further down the tower.
The air built up in his lungs was already starting to dwindle. Fortunately, the lit-up control panel beside the door looked operational. He swam his way over and quickly scanned his eyes across its surface. As he located the button to close the bulwark, movement on his peripheral drew his attention away. Something was swimming through the water on the other side. Whatever it was, he could tell it was bigger than the average fish, and coming straight for him. He frantically jammed the panel to seal it in. The doors promptly began to close from both sides, far too slowly.
Shit!
He moved out of the way just as the creature shot through the opening. As it pivoted back around to face him, he was finally able to make a proper identification. The focalor shark's thick orange body was topped by a tall dorsal fin. From its neck upward, its sleek scales gave way to a rough mask seemingly carved out of stone, every bit as jagged as its razor-sharp teeth. As its eyes focused on him, Squall reached for his gunblade. Though swinging it underwater would be a challenge, he had no other means to defend himself. Brent was still far on the other end of the room. Neither would his fire spellcraft be of any use.
The shark viciously charged him. Squall hefted up the blade to parry, fighting against the water's density. He just barely managed to raise it in time to block the twin rows of gnashing teeth. The impact sent him reeling backwards regardless. Stifling the urge to let go his breath, he quickly recovered and pushed himself off sideways from the wall as the focalor lunged forward again. The near-miss was enough for him to get out ahead, and start making his way back to safety. Whether via the top or bottom hatch, he didn't care. But then, he knew he'd never make it. With a glance back, the shark was on him again.
He swiveled around, trying his best to maintain his momentum. There was no way he could swing the gunblade underwater with enough strength or speed to put a dent in the creature's scales. Not even the trigger function would be of any use to him; the water had surely seeped into the revolver's chambers, dampening the rounds' explosive powder. He could do nothing but remain on the defensive. And so, he held the weapon straight out to ward off the focalor's advance. It snapped at the blade, to which he quickly withdrew it, and thrust it out again. Unfortunately, the facial mask proved too sturdy; the gunblade's tip left barely a scratch as it grazed off. He'd succeeded only in further agitating the shark. What's more, his lungs were now burning. All seemed hopeless.
Just then, his salvation came bolting in. A second creature, almost twice as large, rammed straight into the focalor from the side, carrying it away from him. From its nimble, slender torso protruded three over-sized fins topped off by giant red spokes, arrayed around its body like a trident. As it withdrew, leaving a gaping, bleeding wound in the shark's hide, Squall could see another extending from its dragon-like snout. The rest of it was covered from head to tail with green and gold scales. Despite their apparent sturdiness, or the focalor's injury, the shark was quick to retaliate; it circled back for a bite. The moment its teeth sunk in, a burst of electricity suddenly discharged from the monster, frying it to a crisp.
For all his amazement, Squall understood he had no time to waste. His breath support was at its limit. He sheathed his gunblade, turned away from the clash, and stroked as fast as he could for the hatch set into the floor. Brent idled just a ways beyond, floating in place with his arm outstretched towards the newly arrived creature. That he could actually maintain a summoning while holding his breath all the while spoke volumes of his expertise. Still, he couldn't keep it up forever. With his own lungs on the verge of bursting, he finally took hold of the hatch, unlocked it, and heaved with all his might.
He was sucked straight down as the trapdoor opened. The flood cascaded into the new chamber like a waterfall, carrying him along with it. He tumbled head over heel, taking a couple of glancing blows against the staircase. He finally let loose his mouth to gasp. To his relief, there was air waiting for him. The impact as he finally settled on the floor barely registered, nor the sloshing of the torrent still raining down from above. He crawled his way forward across the slick floor, breathing deeply to re-fill his lungs. Once he'd finally put adequate distance between himself and the hatch, he pushed himself up, and took a look around. The fifth level chamber, like all those before the fourth, had thankfully been sealed on either end. Provided Brent had gotten the other bulwark closed, it would be completely filled to the brim in short order, leaving the room above clear.
After a few minutes, the drainage had risen almost to his neck. He waded through to reach higher ground courtesy of the stairs, now climbable with the decreased amount of water pressure streaming down. As he slowly crept up the slippery steps, taking utmost care not to stumble and fall, Quistis' face appeared in the open hatch at their top. She reached out one hand to him through the continual deluge.
"Are you alright?" she asked as he took hold and let himself be pulled up. She had his jacket slung over her opposite shoulder.
He stepped back onto the fourth level, the room still partially flooded up to his ankles, and began wringing out his shirt and pants. Brent stood just behind Quistis, doing exactly the same. Turning to survey the room at large, he noticed the focalor's charred corpse lying still on the floor, its slackened, toothy maw hanging open.
"I'm fine," he assured her. "Thanks to Brent."
"Don't mention it," the White SeeD responded. "Let's just call it even for the malboro."
That he even remembered the day in question was more than Squall would have expected, much less that it had been him. His own recollection was clear as day: the plant monster's incessant shrieking, the smoldering pyre as his GF had set it ablaze, his confusion as to Ellone's identity, and how Brent had glowered at him for daring to approach her in the aftermath. Now, as their eyes met from across the divide, he saw a wholly different look from him. It was yet another reminder of just how far things had come, how much they had changed, and more importantly, how much he had.
There's no way I'm ever gonna get used to this…
"Well, if the way's clear, let's keep moving!" Reiner called down from atop the stairs.
Squall nodded, and started over to the room's intercom to see if it still worked. Despite the progress they had made thus far, there was still no telling what awaited them at the bottom, nor how long the dragons above could keep the monster occupied. And yet, no matter the odds, he was more determined than ever to find a way. If not for the safety of the Garden, or even the world, then at the very least for those closest to him. And among them all, one in particular he desperately hoped to see alive and well again before the end.