10

CHAPTER 10 – LAST TRAIN HOME

The pandemonium in the streets had gradually died down since the commencement of time compression. No longer choked with swarms of panicked townsfolk, the roads were clear enough for the newly arrived SeeD regiments to make their rounds. Save for the mangled, upended portions of cobbled pavement, or a few abandoned vehicles, Irvine was hard pressed to pick out any lingering signs of chaos from his position above. The odd faraway howl or wail still occasionally reached his ears. Otherwise however, marginal stability appeared to be returning to Balamb.

He'd taken up his roost on the blown open second landing of Zell's family home shortly after Quistis and Rinoa's departure. There he'd idled ever since, content to observe from on high as the first respondents from the outer SeeD encampment made their way onto the scene. Many more had followed within the hour, and begun ushering the people into the relative safety of whatever shelter still stood. With any luck, his own defensive precautions would be unnecessary. Still, he kept his eyes fixed on the castle in the distance, just as his hands to his assault rifle. He would be ready for anything should it come. Considering the events of the morning, he knew he would do well to expect just that.

His three co-conspirators aboard the Lunatic Pandora all lay dead. Two of his closest friends, one he'd known for ages and the other already just as dear to him, had both inherited the sorceress power. And then, in the blink of an eye, they'd all been wrested from the world they'd known and dropped into another, completely new one. The whereabouts of the rest of their group remained unaccounted for. Much as he'd hoped to see Squall, Edea, and the others come charging into town with the other SeeDs, he'd yet to catch any visual of them. On top of it all, Zell and Selphie, and likely even the rest of Balamb's forces, no longer had their spheres to rely on. Ultimecia's presumed stronghold rested mere miles away from their position. It wasn't a matter of if, but when her first assault would arrive.

And so, when he eventually noticed the swarm of bright glowing lights moving in across the sky – they were too near and too brilliant to be stars – he snapped to attention, and took aim through his rifle's scope. He carefully traced the head of the pack as it arced in towards the town. Its speed made keeping a consistent lock all the more difficult, but he managed. Squinting his eyes through the glare, he could vaguely make out a lone figure engulfed by the radiance: humanoid in stature, with long flowing robes whipping in the wind. He quickly shifted his focus to the next closest in formation. It looked virtually identical.

Oh, boy…

He hesitated to sound the alarm downstairs for the moment; there was no use spurring the others to action until he knew what exactly they were up against. Fortunately, as he pulled his eye away, he saw the SeeDs in the streets below were already on the move. The squad down the road broke into a hurried sprint as the balls of light suddenly broke off from one another and scattered through the air. The nearest one abruptly dove down, and landed directly in their path. Irvine re-affixed his scope to the unfolding scene, just in time to see the luminescence dissipate before the stumbling operatives.

The being to emerge left him with more questions than answers. It was at once human in appearance, female at that, yet clearly anything but in nature. Her skin was deathly pale, standing in total contrast to the gaudy, frilly attire she was dressed in. A morass of pastel colors intertwined all across her figure, up to and including the bright purple headdress. A sheer white veil like a wedding gown's hung limply from the back. At the sight of it, Irvine recalled the material trailing from the back-piece Edea had worn under Ultimecia's command. The violet eye-shadow upon her face only furthered the resemblance.

Is that… her?

The woman stretched out one hand to the group of SeeDs. A translucent field of purple energy encircled the lot of them, enclosing on all sides before they could draw their weapons. They promptly did, and began to hack and slash with wild abandon. None of it made a difference; the shield held fast against their struggle. Unable and unwilling to just sit back and watch, Irvine diverted the crosshairs to the sorceress' head.

In that moment, he was back in the world he knew once more. There he knelt atop Deling City's presidential residence, poised to take the shot which would spare his comrades, and indeed the world from the sorceress' wrath. His sentimentality for the woman who'd raised him had kept him from doing his duty that night. He would not fail them again. He took a breath in through his mouth to steady his aim. It was purely out of habit; no air passed through his lungs as he did so, snapping him back to the reality in which he found himself.

He pulled the trigger. And yet, the round refused to fire. Pulling back to examine the rifle, he saw to his horror it had somehow jammed. He fumbled about frantically in a desperate attempt to retract the trigger, but to no avail. As he fought with his weapon, the sorceress began hovering back up towards the sky. The energy bubble containing the captured SeeDs rose along with her, now held firmly in her grip. With no time to spare, Irvine readied the rifle's grenade launcher. He only hoped the barrier would shield her prisoners sufficiently from the blast, and remain material long enough to cushion their fall. He opened fire. And again, no round was discharged.

What the fuck's going on?!

For both firing components to malfunction at the same time went beyond coincidence or bad luck. Regardless of the reasons, he could do nothing but watch the squad be abducted up into the night sky. The same light from before re-engulfed the woman. She darted out over the rooftops in the blink of an eye, to be soon lost among the swarm of her fellow invaders dipping up and down through the streets all across town. Irvine quickly ducked behind what was left of the drywall as another one came whizzing by. It looked virtually identical in appearance to the last, hauling not one, but two captured parties along in either hand.

Their rules of engagement were clear, if not their motive. What need Ultimecia had for taking prisoners at this stage eluded him. Neither did it matter. Having seen all he needed or cared to, he turned and darted down the steps to warn the others.

Come on, girls… hurry it up out there!

"Do you hear that?"

Squall turned to Gilgamesh as the man in red stalled in his tracks. His vacant eyes reflected none of the unease so clear in his voice.

"Hear what?" he asked him.

"Listen."

He perked his ears as commanded. Over the course of their ongoing journey into unknown, he'd neither heard nor seen any trace of further life roaming the land, human or otherwise. Anything beyond the perpetual, steady rhythm of their footfalls should have immediately caught his attention. And for a few moments longer, as he strained to hear what Gilgamesh had picked up on, still nothing did. But then it registered to him: a dense, heavy rustling drawing closer by the second.

He turned to face the ruckus. His eyes were met by a shining beacon of light tearing across the land, zigzagging around every twist and turn in the deformed terrain. Whatever it was, the hellscape in its path was no impediment. Nor was its size; though shrouded in darkness, its sheer length was apparent, coiling and bending with each pivot like a giant snake moving in to strike. Squall had been wondering for some time when the first adversary to meet Zantetsuken would finally rear its head. The one before him now appeared too great even for the enchanted blade to make work of, but there was no other choice. Its speed put running out of the question.

"I'll draw its attention!" Gilgamesh shouted.

The cloaked swordsman blew by him in a flash. He'd already drawn the katana, racing out to meet the mysterious creature halfway.

"Just get yourself into cover and leave this to me!"

Squall hardly knew if his plan of attack were borne out of confidence or recklessness. Making a snap decision to assume the former, he obliged. Surely this self-proclaimed veteran of worlds unknown had faced worse. He must have known what he was doing.

There's no way he would've lived to see so many if he didn't…

Closer the serpentine creature slithered, the blinding light at its fore still the only feature he could make out against the dusk. Gilgamesh stormed ahead into its line of sight. Squall mirrored him, breaking off in the opposite direction. He dashed into cover beside a large boulder, and pressed his back up against the rock. Holding Zantetsuken at the ready, he watched as the swordsman and his prey closed the gap. The rustling grew ever louder. The creature's silhouette grew ever larger. And as Gilgamesh finally stepped right into the spotlight's glare, so did Squall's anxiety swell to heights he'd seldom known.

And then, the monster diverted. It abruptly turned away from the impending confrontation as if disinterested in a clash, but did not slow. Ignoring Gilgamesh entirely, it sped straight for Squall's position. And as a loud whistle pierced through the mounting racket, any natural sense of self-preservation left him; the shock of what he was hearing kept him rooted to the spot in disbelief.

A train?!

By the time his common sense returned, the headlight had drawn too close. And just beneath its glare, a pale white face like a skull's came into view, its eyes likewise gleaming with an otherworldly light. Shaking with fear, he hefted Zantetsuken before him. He had no idea just how he intended to save his own life with it; the size of this horror before him was too great to fell in one slice. However futile, all he could do was try. He swung the magic blade back as the demon train zoomed in for the kill. Rather than flattening him however, the skull opened wide its toothy maw. And as he let fly the strike, it met nothing but the open air between as he was devoured whole.

Squall stumbled and fell to his stomach as the monster took him in. The impact was nowhere near as sharp nor painful as he'd anticipated; the surface he laid upon was firm, yet elastic. He pushed himself up with both hands, and craned his neck to survey his moist, damp surroundings. Before he could, a hand was thrust out in front of his face.

"Welcome aboard," its owner said to him with no discernible enthusiasm.

As he turned his face up, Squall's puzzlement compounded. For one thing, the creature's innards were not so dark and dank as he would have imagined; a muted orange glow permeated the air, illuminating his immediate area. As a result, he could see not just the man who'd extended his hand to him, but a whole group encircling him. Their expressions looked stern, grim even, but none so liable to paint them as a threat.

"What is this?" Squall asked, taking the outstretched hand in his own. His other fumbled for Zantetsuken lying on the floor beside him.

As he rose to his feet, a throng of yet more people, all tightly packed together just behind the men, caught his attention. The queue trailed on down the grotesque, fleshy stretch of hall and into the belly of the beast. Apparently, untold scores of people had been swallowed before him.

"Hell if any of us know!" a second man scoffed. "This… thing just tore through our town! We don't have a clue where it came from, where it's taking us, and never mind what the hell happened to the world before it showed up!"

"Gotta be the sorceress," someone else piped up.

"We're just up here to give any new arrivals the run-down," the first, more level-headed man interjected. He raised his fist and extended his thumb back over his shoulder to the crowd behind. "I don't know where you come from, but if you wanna take a look, there's a good chance you might find some friends back there."

The men parted ways to let him through. Squall swept his eyes across all of them before proceeding forward, leaving them with a grateful bow of his head. Though he doubted he would cross paths with anyone familiar among the swallowed masses, he figured it prudent to assess the situation further before considering his means of escape. The sheer volume of people packed together disinclined him to start swinging Zantetsuken. Even were he given ample room, he wouldn't dare attempt to jump off so long as the demon train continued racing at top speed into the unknown.

Sorry, Gilgamesh…

Forging deeper into the belly of the beast proved less of a hassle than he'd anticipated. Likely owing to the scimitar's bulky frame, the pedestrians were by and large agreeable to make way for him. They might as well have been passengers aboard a commuter rail like any other, when looking past the carriage's organic nature. But even then, the gloom which hung in the air alongside the otherworldly lighting was too heavy. He passed by men, women, and children alike. Some huddled together in clearly defined family groups. Others solemnly stood among their fellow captives with their heads hung, seemingly resigned to their fate. Few spoke at all beyond the occasional whimper or stifled sob.

Squall pitied them, and even sympathized; he knew too well the sting of being ripped away from one's family. He'd lived with that pain longer than most, and hoped to never again once the world had been set right. As he'd come to realize however, what truly constituted family was a matter so much broader. Laguna and Ellone were but the tip of the iceburg. Edea had raised him as her own, and still cared for him no differently. His friends had been there by his side just as long, and stuck with him through perils previously unimaginable. And as for Rinoa, there was simply no one else he more longed to face the future with.

A woman's startled scream shook him from his pondering. Several more were quick to follow in its wake. Squall's eyes shot straight over the heads of the passengers still in his way to the source. A circle quickly opened amid the crowd as they spread out from the center, backing away towards the carriage walls. From the roof protruded a long, slender blade. It fidgeted to and fro as it fought to carve its way in through the grotesque, fleshy material. Ultimately however, the resistance must have been too great. It retracted upward before just as quickly stabbing back down inside a few feet away. The people nearest gasped as they backpedaled further, inadvertently squishing those closest to the walls even harder.

"Out of the way!" Squall roared over the ruckus.

The people parted as he stormed through and into the open center. He took aim at a segment of the ceiling far enough away from the katana's point of entry, and thrust Zantetsuken up. The blade pierced through with ease. And as he swiped it back down, the creature's flesh was ripped apart, leaving a garish seam behind. The wind whipping in drowned out whatever other sounds of panic had sprung up about the cabin's length. Predictably, a flash of red dropped down from above the next moment, landing directly before Squall.

"Much appreciated!" Gilgamesh half-shouted to him as he straightened himself out.

"How did you…?!"

Squall cut himself short as the sound of the wind died down. He looked back up in time to see the gash rapidly congeal and stitch itself back together. Within moments, it disappeared without a trace.

"I couldn't let my only hope of departing from this nightmare slip away, could I?" the red man said with a point to Zantetsuken.

Glad to know you're alright, too…

For as taken aback as Squall was, the looks of the encircling passengers were all the more startled and fraught with fear. None dared to re-close the opening in which he and Gilgamesh stood.

"Well, at least we don't appear to be at risk of digestion anytime soon," the swordsman mulled as he stowed the katana back in his cloak. "All the better if this creature can help speed us onward to our target."

"Somehow, I get the feeling that's exactly where it's taking us," Squall replied. He had nothing to prove the hunch, nor any guess at the demon train's intended purpose, but he intuitively knew such a monstrosity could never have been produced by nature.

"Don't get complacent," his partner warned him. "And keep that blade at the ready. We should be prepared to jump off at a moment's notice."

Easy for you to say.

His squad's operation atop the speeding Galbadian express months earlier had been a harrowing enough ordeal to live through. How exactly Gilgamesh had managed to mount this bizarre, organic variety from ground level he would perhaps never know. To now be so confident to survive a leap from it spoke louder still.

"Squall!"

He turned to face the call from further down the carriage. Passengers gradually parted way down the middle as a group pushed their way forward. Even before Laguna at last broke through to meet him, he'd picked out Ward's face poking up high above everyone else's.

"You made it!" his father sighed with relief as he fell out of the crowd.

Squall stayed motionless, allowing him to grasp hold of his shoulders to steady himself. He opened his mouth to ask how he'd gotten on the train, but cut himself short. It couldn't have been in any other way than how he'd wound up aboard.

"Good to see you landed somewhere out there," Kiros added as he came up beside.

Ellone and Dr. Odine followed just behind, with Ward bringing up the rear. As the hulking giant drew close, Squall glanced back to Gilgamesh. To his amazement, the man in red might have actually been slightly taller.

"Friends of yours?" he asked.

"And family," Squall clarified.

"You know this guy?" Laguna gawked as he took a step back.

Not much better than you, honestly.

Just determining which angle to take in explaining Gilgamesh's identity left Squall at a loss, regardless of whether his father or the others believed any of it. Indeed, his better judgment still begged him to remain skeptical of what he'd told him. Before he could say anything however, a shrill voice wrested the conversation away.

"That sword!"

The moment he turned his attention to Odine, Squall knew something truly spectacular must have caught the doctor's eye. This was a man who'd barely flinched in the face of Adel's resurrection; one who'd brushed off the destruction of the lunar base as if it were a mere inconvenience; one who could somehow grasp the mechanics of an incantation to unravel the flow of time itself, let alone explain it so calmly and eloquently as he had. And yet despite all this, never had Squall seen him so utterly taken aback. He stared intently at Zantetsuken, open mouthed and in clear awe of the weapon.

"That… surely that can't be…!"

As he moved forward to take a closer look, another blade leapt out into the divide. The katana steadily hovered in the open space between Squall and Odine before the edge pivoted to face the doctor.

"Look only with your eyes," Gilgamesh said coldly.

The surrounding public reeled at the threat, some fighting to retreat further back from the center. Only Ward stepped forward; his steely blue eyes remained locked on the swordsman as he came up behind Odine. Now sandwiched between these two massive men, the stout doctor appeared hilariously out of place. Still, none of it seemed to put a damper on his enthusiasm. The look in his eyes as he continued ogling the sword in Squall's hand could have put his own initial reaction to shame.

"Then you mean to say… that really is Zantetsuken?" Odine spluttered as he fought to keep himself composed. "Not merely a replica?"

"You know this sword?" Squall asked; perhaps the doctor could provide further insight on his childhood savior where the man himself failed to do so.

"Know it?! How could I not? How can you not? You hold in your hand one of the most sought after relics in all of Centran legend! The sword of King Odin himself!"

Squall raised the scimitar upright to give it another look over. He recalled Gilgamesh's mention of a king, though otherwise knew nothing of what the doctor spoke of. Centran history had hardly been a point of interest for him during his studies, much less whatever old tales the nation's people might have passed down. The Lunar Cry from 100 years ago had made all of it immaterial.

"So, you're saying that's a pretty big deal?" Laguna casually cut in.

"King Odin?" Odine scoffed incredulously. "A 'big deal'? Just where do you think my family name is derived from? There has never been another ruler with a legacy more shrouded in mystery. Archaeologists the world over have spent their entire lives searching for that sword. A blade said to be enchanted by a sorceress, capable of rending apart any and all earthly matter. Legend says it was passed on to an unknown swordsman after the king's death at that sorceress' hands. To finally behold it with my own two eyes…"

"Indeed, I worked with his council to lay that sorceress to rest for her treachery," Gilgamesh said. "In return, I took up that sword with their blessing."

"You… what?!"

Odine's eyes practically bulged out of his skull. Squall too was struck by the revelation, for reasons entirely beyond the scope of the doctor's understanding. The details of this account, new as they were to him, failed to line up with his own recollection of Gilgamesh and the sorceress at the orphanage. The Centran civilization had already been long eradicated by then. And even if it hadn't, thirteen years was nowhere near enough time for such a story to pass into legend. As things stood, he was sure of only one thing: he'd had Zantetsuken with him then.

"Impossible!" Odine insisted. "That tale is from more than a millennia ago! If true, you shouldn't exist at all here!"

A millennia?

Though he could hardly tell by looking, Squall could practically feel Gilgamesh's own stare ripple over him as he turned his head to the man. Clearly, there had been a misunderstanding shared between them somewhere along the line.

"I exist in this realm for the same reason you do," the cloaked man finally spoke; despite his calm veneer, still he kept his hold on Masamune perfectly level. "However long ago I once walked upon this land makes no difference. Only that I did. Or at least, so it seems from what this young man has told me of this world."

"Hold on," Laguna interrupted, turning to Odine. "Then does that also mean Raine might…?"

"I've told you, no," the doctor shot his hopes down. "Only those alive at the precise moment time compression took effect – in our era – should be alive here. No other human being throughout history, whether dead or yet to be born, may exist in the here and now. Apart, again, from Ultimecia and Adel. The very nature of the incantation necessitates it. This a universe wholly molded and governed by Hyne's magic. The land itself might be a hodgepodge of all different eras, but the sum of Hyne's essence as it permeated the realm in our time is preserved. That includes not just the power of the sorceresses, but the part of his essence all humankind shares. And indeed… given I've yet to see any wildlife whatsoever since our arrival, I now have reason to doubt whether any other creatures not descended from Hyne or otherwise forged by Ultimecia may even exist here at all. It would follow that only those born of the great god may subsist in a world sustained entirely by his power."

Well, at least it makes sense to one of us.

"All of this is to say that you have no business being here!"

Odine triumphantly finished his speech with an outstretched finger pointed to Gilgamesh. The man in red held his tongue for the moment. Squall held his breath along with all else present, including the surrounding throng of befuddled onlookers. The tension further thickened with every passing moment, to where he no longer felt certain even Zantetsuken could cut through. In the end, a gruff chuckle was what did the job.

"And that's where you'd be right," Gilgamesh replied with a snort as he at last retracted the katana into his cloak. "I am not of your kind, for I am not of your world. Why then should I be bound by its laws of existence the same as you all? Neither do I know this god you speak of. I will not be subject to his design, or any other but my own."

His hand re-emerged bearing no sword at all. As he held his open palm outstretched in the middle of the circle, there came a crackle of static. Within moments, a ball of electricity materialized, its bolts lapping at his fingers like ethereal tendrils. Squall barely maintained his composure at the sight of it. The surrounding mob of townsfolk did not share his resilience, however; several panicked shouts sounded the alarm, and within moments they all began stampeding away in either direction up and down the cabin.

"The power which flows through this body is my own!" Gilgamesh proclaimed over the ruckus. "My destiny is my own! And no force, be it mortal or divine, will keep me from it!"

Squall continued standing his ground even as nearly everyone else in the immediate vicinity cleared out. Still, he felt utterly impotent to intervene. As he turned back to take stock of his comrades, he saw they too were at a loss. Laguna had retreated to Ellone's side. Kiros and Ward held their positions, as did Odine. Not a single one appeared to have retained whatever amount of fortitude they'd held just moments before. Several tense beats passed before the lightning faded away from Gilgamesh's grasp.

"Who… who are you?" Odine finally asked, stifling his amazement. "If you are not of this world, then where do you hail from?"

Here we go again…

And so, Gilgamesh began with his explanation of the Interdimensional Rift once more. Within the span of a minute however, Odine proved himself to be of a far more pressing persuasion than Squall. The man in red could barely get anything beyond a few sentences out at a time without the doctor jumping down his throat, constantly nagging for some clarification or another. All the while, Odine's enthusiasm shone through radiant as ever. For one who loved to lecture so extensively, he wasn't content to shirk away from the promise of learning something new. If anything, he maintained control of the conversation as if he were the one calling the shots.

At least it should keep him occupied…

After another minute or two of tedious back and forth, a hand clamped down on Squall's shoulder. He turned to find his father and Ellone standing just beside him.

"I'm sure we can get by with the short and sweet version later," Laguna insisted. He pointed his thumb back towards the rear of the carriage, freshly cleared out in the wake of the standoff.

"Shorter, maybe," Squall replied.

Realizing the exchange was going nowhere of interest for him, he turned to follow after. Before he could take the second step, another hand grabbed him from behind; the grip from this one was much more stern and tightly clenched than Laguna's. He looked back, visually tracing the pale, gauntlet-clad arm up to where it disappeared within the ragged, red cloak. No words were exchanged as he met that now familiar blank stare. Instead, the hand released its hold on him, and turned its open palm upward in waiting. It took nothing else for him to understand.

Obligingly, Squall raised Zantetsuken, and gingerly placed the hilt into Gilgamesh's grasp. Satisfied, the man retracted his arm, sword and all, back into the depths of his attire. A silent nod dismissed him to take his leave with his family. He offered one of his own before doing so. As he turned, he noted a similar gesture on Laguna's part to Kiros and Ward. The two stayed standing with Odine, even as he, Squall, and Ellone trailed away.

"Quite a friend you've made there," Laguna said once they'd put ample distance between both parties.

"Not sure that's the right word," Squall responded; too many were the questions he still needed answered before he could make that call.

"You trust him enough to tag along with him, right?"

"He's got no love for what's happened to the world, and he can handle a sword better than anyone I've ever met. Can't ask for much more than that right now."

That, and I owe him…

"Well, I like his attitude, at least!" Laguna proclaimed. "All that, 'My destiny is my own', stuff. I know Odine's got it in his head now that everything's all up to fate. And, I mean, now that I've got the two of you back in my life after all this time, I'm not just gonna say it's all bullshit. But I still wanna believe your life is what you make of it."

"I... hope so," Ellone stammered.

Squall turned to her with Laguna. The first words she'd spoken since he'd come aboard the demon train had been so weak, so faint, he was surprised his ears had even picked them up. Her body language spoke no differently: head bowed, eyes locked to the floor with her arms clasped before her chest.

"You alright Ellie?" Laguna asked.

"I'm really... really hoping you're right," she eked out, clearly fraught with worry. "That there's more to life than just fate's design. Otherwise..."

She trailed off, seemingly at a loss for how or where to continue. After a sharp breath in to compose herself, she raised her head up, and tried again.

"When I sent Ultimecia back into Adel's mind, I could hear all of their thoughts swirling around together. It was only for a matter of seconds, but so much of it is still imprinted in my mind."

Squall could hardly imagine what a whirring cocophony of mental dissonance she'd experienced in doing so. He'd had plenty of firsthand exposure to his father's mental faculties for all the times he'd seen the world through his eyes. He'd heard his every thought, felt his every emotion. For Ellone to play mediator for three other minds at once couldn't have been easy.

"The plan for time compression passed through Ultimecia's consciousness. And along with it, everything she knew about the power we share. And because of that… I now know she and I… we're…"

The moment he deduced where her line of reasoning was going, Laguna swooped in with an embrace.

"No!" he shushed her. He put his hand on the back of her head and pulled her in closer. "Don't say it. Don't even think it. You know it's not true, Ellie. The two of you are nothing alike. Who cares about your power or where it comes from? You're your own person. You're no one else but Ellone, now and forever."

Wordlessly, she wrapped her arms around him in return. There they lingered in place, father and daughter, both desperately clinging to one another for comfort, and more than that, peace of mind. Squall hesitated only for a moment before he joined them. He thrust his arms around them both from the side, effectively sandwiching Ellone in the middle.

"You'll always be 'Sis' to me," he added. "No one else could ever take your place. Believe me… I know."

However emotional he'd suddenly become at the thought of it all, tears refused to spill from his eyes. He could no more will himself to cry than force his heart to start pumping blood again. None of it mattered, however. The intensity of his love for her was too strong to be stifled, just as his determination to lift Ellone's spirits again. With any luck, it would still be a while before she realized the extent of the information Adel had gleaned about her in the past, and how she had put it to use.

"Thank you, Squall… Uncle Laguna," she finally replied. "You're the only ones I really needed to hear it from."

"Anytime," Laguna affirmed. He withdrew from the hug and gave her hair a playful ruffle.

Squall promptly pulled back himself, and looked to his father with a resolute stare. Whether or not fate had brought them to this point, the ability to make a difference now lay in their hands. Time was no more. If ever there was a moment in which they could shape their own destiny, the way Laguna and Gilgamesh so longed, it was this very one they had been confined to at Ultimecia's behest. Whether in victory or defeat, their efforts alone would shape the future.

Your life is what you make of it…