13

CHAPTER 13 – FATED CIRCLE

A set of large double doors finally came into sight at the end of the torch-lit hallway. Whether or not they were locked made no difference to Squall; they would part for him in the face of Zantetsuken, regardless. He sliced straight through the thick, reinforced wood as if through a sheet of paper. Only once he'd made it through the opening did he slow to assess his surroundings. And indeed, there was plenty to take stock of.

The winged lion creature in the center took precedence first and foremost; broad, imposing, and adorned with from head to tail with jagged spokes, the mere sight of it somehow filled him with a deeper, more visceral level of intimidation than he'd ever felt. The throne atop the pedestal just behind grabbed his attention next. Upon it sat a woman in a blood-red dress, with long white hair styled like a pair of horns atop her head. She smirked as their eyes met from across the room. Averting his gaze to the open ceiling above, the sorceresses returning from town flew into sight with their cargo. They circled around in mid-air, as if content to spectate, or otherwise disinclined to interrupt. Finally, Squall swept his eyes back down to the chamber proper. It was then he at last spotted Rinoa kneeling in place just off to the side.

"Rinoa!" he called to her. "Are you alright?! Where's Quistis?!"

She whipped her head to him, but did not rise. Her eyes showed no joy at his arrival. If anything, her expression looked distant, as if a piece of her soul had been ripped clean out of her very being. Her mouth parted, yet the laughter which echoed through the room came from Ultimecia.

"And so he arrives!" the sorceress dramatically proclaimed. "Just a little too late to save your friend, I'm afraid."

No…

The implication struck him harder than any blow the titan could have managed. So great was the shock, he nearly lost his grip on Zantetsuken. He couldn't believe it. He refused to believe it. But no matter which way he looked, Quistis was nowhere to be seen.

"Fret not! You'll both be joining her shortly. And then, once I have inherited the power your beloved carries, I shall become a new order of being mightier than Hyne himself ever was. A god with the power to surpass any other, real or imagined, and reign supreme over this world forevermore!"

The lion roared in the wake of her declaration, and rose up on its hind legs. Befuddled beyond all measure, Squall was at a loss for how to proceed. It wasn't a matter of what he could do, but whether he still even had the will to go on.

He'd been there by Xu's side as she'd fallen in the line of duty. He'd watched helplessly as Fujin and Raijin had dissipated and faded from existence. But to learn his former instructor, cherished ally, and childhood friend was now gone was a pain too great for him to come to terms with. She'd been there for him longer than most, and tried her best to support him through all his struggles at the Garden over the years, only for him to repeatedly push her away. It sickened him to consider how he'd taken her concern for granted for so long. The thought of never again experiencing her persistent nagging, or seeing that mischievous, knowing smile upon her face was unfathomable.

Quistis… I'm sorry… for everything…

"I'll take it from here."

A hand clapped down on his shoulder from behind. Another swiftly wrested Zantetsuken out of his grip before he could react. He turned to Gilgamesh standing beside him. The man's unwavering focus was aimed squarely at the lion lingering before Ultimecia.

"You've fought well, just as your comrade surely did," he spoke to him in a grave, gravely tone. "In return, I shall deliver the vengeance you seek. Stay back."

He charged in before Squall could protest. He showed no hesitance as he bolted towards the lion. And as they met, it became clear there was no need. The man let all three swords fly in a dizzying whirlwind of bloodied steel; try as he might, Squall couldn't hope to keep track of each slice, quick as they were. Gilgamesh had left his foe no opportunity at all for a counterattack. The creature roared as most of its limbs, one of its wings, and its tail were severed in rapid succession, to be abruptly silenced as Masamune finally pierced its jugular. No longer able to stand, much less fly, the swordsman's strength was now all that kept the creature's dismembered body held upright. The battle had been decided within seconds.

Incredible…

The slaughtered lion, from its impaled torso to its freshly hacked off appendages strewn across the floor, began glowing. The entire scope of its figure soon turned to pure light as it lost any corporeal form, and rapidly re-merged together upon the tip of Gilgamesh's blade. From there, its silhouette shrunk just as quickly, and faded away into nothing. A series of dainty metal clinks like a pin dropping was all that broke the ensuing silence. Suddenly, Rinoa leapt up from her knees and into a sprint. She bolted not for Gilgamesh, but off to his side from whence the sound had come. She frantically scooped whatever it was off the stone floor before retreating back from the confrontation again.

"What ridiculous nonsense is this?!"

Squall looked to Ultimecia seated on high. Her face, so smug moments ago, was now wrought with equal parts rage and confusion. She outstretched one of her wicked, unnaturally sharp fingers to the five-armed giant standing defiantly before her.

"How is it that I can sense no trace of Hyne's essence about you?" she spoke to him. "Who are you? What are you? You are no human, that much is clear."

"Do you not know death when you see it, hag?" Gilgamesh calmly retorted. "I am no more a man of this realm than you are its god, and I will not be bound by your will. I have dealt with your kind before. And now, for the sake of this world and all those who fight for its future, I will deal with you."

The sorceress in red had nothing to say to that. Wordlessly they stared at one another, the tension mounting to a fever pitch as Rinoa cautiously inched her way over to Squall's side. He stayed completely still, awaiting the moment their clash would commence in all its grandeur. At last, Ultimecia stood up.

"So be it," she scoffed. "It matters not what you are. Infidels have no place under my reign. And for your insolence, you shall suffer the full fury of a god's power."

The burning sconces to either side of the throne extinguished themselves on the spot. She stepped off the pedestal into thin air. As she did so, a blinding light enveloped her body completely, one to shame any GF summoning Squall had ever witnessed. He put his hand up to shield his eyes. Rinoa leaned in towards him as she did the same, huddling close. For however helpless he felt to assist, he could only imagine how bewildered she must have been. She clearly had no idea who or what Gilgamesh was, nor where he'd come from.

She knows he's on our side. That's all that matters.

The light faded, but did not disappear outright from the room. Peering through the glare and over top of Gilgamesh's head, Ultimecia's chosen form met his eyes. Amazingly, she was taller now than even the swordsman, and perhaps even more intimidating to behold. Violet armored plating encompassed her torso and arms, with scant few seams leaving any skin at all exposed. A long flowing red skirt encircled her lower body, parting but slightly down the middle as her prior dress had. The black angel wings which had protruded from her back were gone; in their place were an array of crooked blade-like appendages the same hue as her armor. Instead, a pair of wing-like antennae sprouted from atop her head. Most disturbing was her face, for she no longer had one at all. In its place was a gaping hole from which a beacon of light shone forth.

[Come!]

The taunt resounded not in Squall's ears, but his very mind. It must have been the same for Gilgamesh; he complied with a running leap. The sorceress raised her arm up as Zantetsuken swung in. This time however – for the first time – the sword met resistance. He froze in place, visibly straining to force the blade down. Where that failed, he took a swing with Excalibur, and then Masamune. Both were blocked by a pair of the rear blade appendages as they shot out to intercept like a pair of tentacles. Ultimecia's free hand then thrust forward, sending Gilgamesh soaring backwards straight for Squall. He yanked Rinoa out of the way to the left as the man crashed on through and skidded to a stop.

"What happened?!" Squall yelled to him. "You couldn't cut through?"

"I… couldn't even land a hit," the swordsman grunted as he picked himself up. "It's as if some kind of invisible barrier were blocking my every…"

He trailed off as a glowing orange diagram of some sort, wide as he was tall, suddenly materialized beneath his feet. He frantically leapt forward out of the radius just before a vast upsurge of energy exploded out of it, lighting up the room.

[Hold still and accept your fate!]

Gilgamesh refused, and recommenced his attack anew. Just as before, each and every slice, no matter the sword, was deflected. Several more tendrils flew forth to spear him through the chest. This time, he was prepared; he rolled out of harm's way as they went snaking past him. From there, he fired a blast of lightning at her. It was parried no differently by one of her arms.

"We need to help him!" Rinoa insisted.

Squall concurred; however capable Gilgamesh was, this was just as much their fight. He dragged her into cover behind the nearest pillar.

"You hang back and put pressure on her," he ordered as he reached down and pulled the gunblade from its sheath. "See if you can give him the opening he's looking for. I'll circle around and try to hit her from the side. Be careful."

She nodded to him. Satisfied, he swung out and around the pillar to the left side, and dashed behind the next. Gilgamesh and Ultimecia continued to clash in the center. Despite the sorceress remaining stationary, it was the swordsman who'd been forced on the defensive; his additional limbs seemed to be the only factor which allowed him to stand a chance. For Squall, the element of surprise was his greatest ally now. Provided he could flank her position, and remain out of sight long enough to get in close, he could potentially get in a decisive strike without giving her an opportunity to block it. The gunblade's trigger was still of no use to him so long as time compression endured. He only hoped it wouldn't matter.

Carefully, he crept around the confrontation, resisting the urge to hurry lest he draw attention to himself. A few blasts of holy energy entered the fray from the other side of the hall, courtesy of Rinoa. Ultimecia buckled but slightly as one made its mark. Though she recovered quickly enough to continue fending off Gilgamesh without missing a beat, Squall's assurance was all the better for it. Her defenses weren't impregnable. She could indeed be wounded. Though she might have held the power of a god, she herself was still mortal. As he maneuvered himself into position for his sneak attack, he prepared to put that theory to the test.

All or nothing…

He raced forward as soon as he saw Rinoa let off another few blasts. His eyes narrowed in on Ultimecia's neck. He pictured in his mind the righteous fury with which Seifer had lopped off Adel's head, hoping it might imbue him with the same. Putting all he had into both his legs and arms, he leapt in and swung. The blade connected. And then, it shattered.

The moment's triumph was instantly ripped away from him. Gilgamesh relented from his own assault as the jagged chunks of shrapnel came flying at him and scattered all over the floor. Squall stayed fixed to the spot, staring wide-eyed at the broken hilt in his hand. So great was his disbelief, he failed to see Ultimecia reach for him until her hand was already around his throat.

[Foolish boy.]

Up she lifted him before her, to where he was now staring directly into the void that was her face. He kicked his dangling legs. He tried jamming what was left of the gunblade into her arm. None of it did anything to loosen her grip.

[I know not what power that man possesses, nor his swords. But yours will never leave even a chink in the armor of a god.]

He continued struggling, relieved only that he was in no danger of suffocation. Myriad were the other means by which she could end his existence, however. What finally shook her grip was another salvo of magical energy hitting her from the side. Squall craned his head as best he could. Rinoa stood on the periphery of his vision, arms held out as she readied another one. Turning back, he caught sight of Gilgamesh zooming in from the other side for a pincer attack. What next went hurtling through the air however, was Squall himself. Without warning, Ultimecia threw him clear across the hall with tremendous force. He tumbled in mid-flight before slamming face-first into one of the center-most pillars.

He toppled onto the floor, roaring in agony. His vision had blurred. He could hardly tell up from down, or focus on anything beyond the searing pain upon his face; there was every likelihood his nose had been broken. An intense sheen of orange light soon illuminated to one side. Helpless to move, much less pick himself up, he simply lay there, ready to accept whatever might come of it. But in the end, it never did; he was abruptly knocked out of the way by means unknown to him. Across the cold stone floor he tumbled once more, rolling over and over until he finally came to a stop on his stomach. Another scream reached his ears; the anguish seething from it was what at last prompted him to put aside his own. He pushed himself up, focused his eyes, and looked to its source.

Gilgamesh had fallen to one knee as the eruption of energy from below consumed him. He remained doubled over even after it had subsided, gasping for breath, yet still somehow holding tight to his swords.

"Are you okay?" Rinoa shrilled as she came up beside Squall. She gawked as he turned to her; truly, his face must have been a wreck. "Hold on! Let me see if I can heal you-"

"Don't!" Squall insisted, pointing to the swordsman. "He needs it more than I do!"

"That's where… you're wrong," Gilgamesh eked out.

He achingly stumbled to his feet, absent any of the vigor, bravado, or boundless physical endurance he normally carried; seemingly all of it had been sucked right out of him by the spell. What remained was his determination. He held all three swords upright and at the ready, and kept his stare locked onto Ultimecia. The sorceress' own reaction was impossible to gauge in lieu of having no expression. What caught Squall's attention instead was a bright red luminescence emanating from below; it peeked through the gap in her skirt, and from there moved upward to reach her torso.

"I've beheld many wonders in my journey through worlds unknown," the swordsman spoke. "More than any mortal man could hope to in a lifetime. If this is where it ends for me, then so be it. But you… your life must go on."

He turned his head to him. And as Squall stared into his eyes, he saw they were no longer empty; each one was now brimming with tears.

"Squall… this land is your home. This is where you belong, with the people you care about, and who care for you. More than anyone ever cared for me. If each of us do indeed have our own destiny, our own part to play in fate's design… then I'm eternally grateful mine led me here. I'm honored to call you my comrade. And beyond that, my friend."

Squall was speechless. It was the appearance of a new energy diagram upon the floor which jogged him from his stunned amazement. This one was nothing like the two before, be it in terms of design or sheer scale; it had spread to the furthest corners, encompassing the lay of the entire throne room.

"Thank you… and farewell."

With that, he made his final charge. His pace was by far the slowest Squall had yet seen him move. The amount of effort exerted with every step was apparent, as was his intent: whether or not he prevailed, he fully expected this exchange to be his last. Five intertwining lasers shot up towards the open ceiling from all around the seal. They merged together into one massive sphere of blinding energy, floating above in the center of the chamber. It fell just as Gilgamesh reached Ultimecia's position. Squall barely even paid mind to the shimmering maroon forcefield which flashed in front of him before it landed.

You've got to be…

His eardrums exploded in tandem with the throne room. The might of the blast swept him off his feet and sent him hurtling backwards, again crashing into something sturdy. All was white. With back aching, eyes blind to his surroundings, and mind numb from the act of self-sacrifice he'd just witnessed, he could do nothing but lie there as what was left of the chamber came crumbling down all around him. When at last the light faded, and his vision had returned, the battlefield before him was virtually unrecognizable.

Ultimecia stood alone in the center, completely unscathed. The pedestal which had held up the throne to her rear had been completely obliterated, along with the surrounding array of pillars. Not a speck of debris remained clustered around her; every scrap had seemingly been blown out from the center just as Squall, or otherwise disintegrated altogether. A plethora of massive holes were now left gaping all along the room's walls. Beyond, just as above, the other sorceresses still hovered in awaiting for further instruction. And there Rinoa lay by his side, clothes frayed and torn by the blast.

"Rinoa!" he screamed as he jostled her. "Rinoa, get up!"

Groggily, she opened her eyes and turned them up to him. A faint smile was all she could manage.

"We… we made it?" she gasped. "I didn't… think I had enough power… but…"

"Save your energy!" he shushed her as he shot up to his feet; he winced in doing so, but pushed the pain still lingering in his back and face aside. "You've done enough. You've done everything you could. We… we all have…"

Taking another look around, he picked out two of Gilgamesh's swords among the rubble nearby. Zantetsuken had been left impaled in the ground, with Excalibur resting just beside. Sadly, there was no trace left of the man himself. There couldn't have been; the blast had dropped down directly atop him. He was gone, his life given in vain for the sake of one final, desperate gambit. And though Rinoa's last-second conjuration had saved them both by the skin of their teeth, they simply had nothing left to give. Their defeat was at hand.

Gilgamesh… Quistis… everyone… I'm so sorry, but…

[Do you understand now the futility of standing against me?]

He directed his tired, bleary-eyed gaze to Ultimecia as the words wormed their way into his head.

[You cannot win. Any further struggle would be useless. You have shown immense courage in facing me, and for that I commend you. And so, I shall offer you a truce, that we may avoid any more unnecessary loss of life. Surrender now. Swear your fealty to me. In return, I shall spare your life, and the lives of your remaining friends. And then, I shall name you my new knight, to serve by my side in this land. The alternative is death beyond death. To be wholly absorbed, body and mind, by time compression itself, and become one with the fabric of this reality. There you will linger for eternity, stripped of all sense of being. Such is the fate of all who die in this realm. So, I ask you now: will you take the knight's oath?]

Squall's body ached from head to toe. That he could even stand at all was more than could be said for Rinoa. With her down and out, and both Quistis and Gilgamesh gone, it seemed hopeless to keep fighting. And yet, to simply give in to Ultimecia's demands was out of the question. It wasn't even a matter of his distrust in her; he very much doubted she would leave Rinoa alive so long as she too carried the sorceress power. His friends had given too much. Some had even given their very lives. He could never live with himself if he let their efforts be for naught.

But… what can I do?

"Whatever you can. That's all any of us can ever do. It's all I could do since that day, 13 years ago. And now… finally, my part in all this can be over. But yours must go on, Squall…"

He stepped forward, not to swear his fealty, but to take up the same two swords which had saved him that day. Though the man who'd wielded them was no more, he would fight to honor his memory, and the memory of all those who'd gone before. And most importantly, for the people who still depended on him now. He stopped just before the discarded blades to look back. Behind, Rinoa had pushed herself up to her knees. Her disconcerted stare seemed to plead with him not to push himself any further. He simply smiled back, and turned to face his destiny. Above all else, she was his reason to keep fighting.

"Sorry," he grunted as he scooped up Excalibur in his right hand. "I've already taken that oath."

He pulled Zantetsuken free from the ground with his left, and raised both before him in an X shape. Although he knew not how he was to defend himself, he did have an inkling as to what avenue of attack he ought to take.

Could it really be that simple?

[I have had enough of your insolence, boy. I offer you mercy, and still you cling to that same stubborn defiance. My patience with you has run out. Your vain crusade ends here!]

He saw red. Namely, the same gleaming red energy rising from her lower body. With all the remaining stamina and willpower he could muster, he bolted forward. Several of the spiked tendrils from her back lashed out for him as he closed the gap. He swatted them away with Zantetsuken's broad side, and drew back Excalibur for a piercing strike. He took aim. Ultimecia raised her arm to shield her torso once more; predictably, she'd misread his target. As he reached her, he thrust the blade straight into her gown from whence the power for the blast had been siphoned.

"Gah!"

The cry of pain reached his ears before his mind. That it sounded so natural was itself unnatural; Ultimecia had no mouth by which to scream, after all. As he stared inside the gap he'd plunged the sword through however, all became clear.

Beyond the veil of red fabric were no legs, nor anything resembling the lower anatomy of any species. What instead protruded from the floating armored torso was, unbelievably, a human body. She hung upside down, fully nude with her arms crossed, her white hair drooping upon the floor from her head. A network of thick red and blue bindings like veins ensnared her entire body, disappearing up into the top half's waist. Her wide yellow eyes stared back at him in shock. Blood began seeping from her mouth, just as from the hole he'd punctured straight through her chest.

Above, the faceless effigy made no attempt to swing down at him. It idled in place, paralyzed, twitching and spasming as it fought to contain the energy it had already absorbed from her. It was then Squall understood; Gilgamesh had been right all along. In the end, Ultimecia was no god at all, but merely its puppet, its vessel, its conduit. And in allowing Hyne's divine power to fully manifest in its true form, she herself had likewise reverted to her own: a mere mortal like any other, providing sustenance for the deity's subsistence in the world. Her true form was but a perfect symbol of the fate she'd been condemned to, along with every sorceress who'd ever lived.

"I release you," he said.

He twisted Excalibur in deeper, and with all the strength his left arm had to offer, cleaved through the upper god form with Zantetsuken. Searing light exploded forth, obliterating everything.

Goodbye…

All was white. He could see nothing. He could hear nothing. There was, quite simply, nothing. For what felt like ages, he floated aimlessly through the ether, unable even to tell if he were alive or dead. Were he in fact dead, then he was content to know he had at least died for something. Despite what Gilgamesh had told him in his final moments, that his life must go on for the sake of those he held dear, if his own death could accomplish as much for them as the swordsman had done for him 13 years ago, then it was all worth it.

That day… was when it all started.

He recalled the orphanage as he'd always known it. How the grand flower field – where he'd sworn to Rinoa he'd be waiting – seemed to stretch further into the distance than his own little mind could fathom. And how the innocence of youth had propelled him out the door to find Ellone, directly into the path of a man he'd come to admire with every ounce of fervor. Those were simpler times, better times than he'd had the wisdom to appreciate in the moment. He longed with all his heart to return to such a place, one he could call his home anew, to be welcomed in the arms of his family.

And so, the light finally faded. Darkness took him for a fleeting moment, to be broken with a mere flutter of his eyes. The sun streaming down upon his face prompted him to raise his arm. The weight of Excalibur in his grip kept him from doing so. Only then did the realization hit him: he was alive.

Squall shot upright and darted his head around. He lay upon a grassy patch under clear blue skies. Ahead to one side loomed a stout, white stone building. And beyond, the flower field, vivid as he'd pictured it in his mind's eye. Was he dreaming? Or had he by some miracle been returned home as he'd so longed? Glancing down, he saw he still held Excalibur and Zantetsuken in either hand. Releasing his hold on the former, he brought his hand up to his chest. His heart jumped for joy the moment he felt it beating.

I'm back!

Whatever lingering aches and pains he still felt all over his body were irrelevant. Unable to contain himself any longer, he stumbled to his feet, retook Excalibur, and went running out to meet the field. He barely paid any mind to the orphanage annex as he stormed on by. He slowed as he emerged onto the familiar ivy strewn path, and swept his eyes across the land. No longer was the great garden marred by dead spots or any other warped anomalies. All was right with the world again. And yet, however hard he squinted into the distance, Rinoa was nowhere to be seen. He turned towards the orphanage. And that was when he noticed him.

The boy stood just before Squall on the path to the great stone house. Small, with unkempt brown hair, dressed in a yellow T-shirt with plain black trousers, he looked up at him in awe. He reeled back as their eyes met. And in an instant, Squall recognized the fear and longing brimming behind the boy's stare.

I guess this is a dream, after all.

How pitiful he looked. Whether a mirage, memory, or pure figment of his imagination, Squall knew this child's sorrows all too well. A faint smile of sympathy crept over his lips.

"Still looking for her, aren't you?" he spoke, the words practically escaping his lips of their own accord.

To that, the boy's frightened eyes grew ever wider. His jaw dropped and hung open for several seconds before he could stammer out a response.

"W-what-" was all he managed.

Squall frowned; perhaps he'd chosen the wrong opening. Eager to rectify his mistake, he took a single ginger step towards him, trying to make himself as non-threatening as possible. All it managed was to terrify the boy even further. He spun back around and bolted for the orphanage's front door, screaming hysterically.

"Help! Someone! Anyone! Help me!"

Squall momentarily debated whether to pursue or take his leave; dream or no, he'd clearly caused his younger self enough distress already. As the boy made it to the steps however, a strange wave of deja-vu suddenly swept over him.

Hold on…

A dark portal took shape before the boy with an audible hiss. Startled, he fell backwards onto his rear, and simply sat there, helpless to move. To Squall's own shock, it was Ultimecia who emerged from the swirling black void, clad once again in her scarlet gown. She limply shuffled forward, heaving and snarling in agony, both her hands clutching at the gaping, bloody wound left by Excalibur in her chest.

"Stay away!"

The cry came from the annex door. Out dashed Edea in the same black dress Squall remembered so fondly. With seemingly no concern for her own safety, she ran at top speed straight for the boy and scooped him up in her arms.

"Get back, Matron!" Squall yelled as he raced in after her.

Obligingly, she retreated behind him with his younger self as he stepped in to face Ultimecia. He swiped both swords at the wicked sorceress, one after the other, in an effort to force her back.

"What's going on here?" Edea asked. "Who are you? Who is she? Why are you both-"

"It doesn't matter!" he cut her off, keeping his eyes on their foe. "Just take that kid and run! Now!"

Even he didn't understand how exactly the two of them had arrived at the orphanage, never mind at that specific point in time. Anything he could tell her beyond that she wouldn't believe. Ultimecia had backed down, but still remained standing. Each haggard breath sounded painful for her. Blood sprayed from her throat as she coughed, and brought one of her claws up to cover her mouth. She was clearly in no condition to keep fighting. Neither was Squall, for that matter, but he willed the thought out of his mind; the first of them to acknowledge it would surely be the first to fall.

"No… this is my duty."

Squall finally risked a look back over his shoulder. Edea knelt by the fore of the annex, and gently set the unconscious boy down against the wall. She raised herself, and walked back over to join the standoff.

"That sorceress is just looking for someone to pass her power on to," she explained as she came to stand by his side. "Only by doing so can a sorceress rest in peace. I know, for I am one, too. Please… leave this to me."

She strode past him to confer with Ultimecia, who had again started inching forward. Squall continued holding both swords at the ready, but did not intervene. His amazement kept him tethered to the spot. He couldn't believe what he was seeing.

Matron… that sorceress from 13 years ago… all this time…

"There is no more need to fight," she said, offering both her hands. "I will accept your power."

Ultimecia said nothing back. All the world stood still as Squall waited to see the moment he'd long sought answers for. At last, just as he knew she would, the sorceress reached out her bloodied, disfigured hands to take Edea's. And as their fingers touched, her entire body came alight with a blinding white radiance. Squall kept staring as long as he was able, but turned his head away as the light became too much for his eyes. When it eventually dissipated, and he felt safe to look again, Ultimecia had vanished.

In her place before Edea stood a man. Or at least, a being with a physique resembling one; he was obviously anything but human. His body was fully nude, yet transparent; staring straight through him, Squall could still see every inch of orphanage's front side. Where that failed, the entity's face, or lack thereof, was enough to dispel any doubt. It was the same gaping void Ultimecia's armored god form had possessed. The sorceress' red dress lying on the ground around his feet was all that was left of her.

[How strange.]

His voice echoed in Squall's mind no differently than Ultimecia's, as well. Edea must have also heard it; she immediately backed away to stand beside him.

[How very strange, indeed, to be whole again after so long. Yet you…]

The translucent man raised his arm and pointed to Edea.

[Why is it that you still carry a strain of my power? This cannot be.]

His focus shifted to Squall before he could even process what was happening. His train of thought was then derailed entirely; the beacon of light shining within the man's otherwise blank face pierced into his eyes. A frenzied amalgamation of images flashed before him in rapid succession. Barely any one of them stuck around long enough to properly identify, though his unconscious mind recognized all of them at a glance. Each and every one was a memory, whether recent or long past. In the span of mere seconds, his vision returned.

[Ah, I see. It seems there is more at work here than even a god's power can contend with. And perhaps now, it is time I take my leave. Yes, I do believe humanity's dues have been paid. And will be again, one day.]

Despite sinking directly into his brain, Squall could barely comprehend the man's words. He was too stunned by their implications, and the resultant understanding of just who this being before them was.

[You have fought long and hard, brave warrior. Take heart, and rest easy. Your part in this story is over. And you, my dear… yours has just begun.]

The deity turned to back Edea, but pointed his finger off to the side, past Squall. He followed its aim to find his younger self, still out cold and slumped against the annex wall, on the receiving end.

[You would do well to take care of that boy. Remember, even the tiniest seed may grow to be a mighty oak, if properly tended to. Raise him, nurture him, that he may live for the day this moment comes around again. For the day he proves himself to have the heart of a lion.]

A chill ran down Squall's spine. He looked to his chest, his eyes fixating on the lion's-head pendant still hanging from its chain. To have such strength of heart was exactly what Edea had urged him to do all those years ago, and exactly what she would doubtless tell that boy hours from now. It would be an ideal ingrained in him henceforth, right down to the surname she would give him.

Matron…

[This is the task appointed to you, my most noble descendant. Farewell.]

He turned back in time to see the man's transparent figure fade away. The last few scant wisps of light were chased away by the wind, leaving nothing behind but Ultimecia's dress upon the ivy-strewn path. He was gone. And with him, so too had curse suffered by mankind for thousands of years seen its end.

That was really…!

"What… did he mean?" Edea wondered aloud.

Squall couldn't tell if the question were directed to him or just a statement of confusion. In any case, she ignored him as she walked back to where the boy lay. She gingerly picked him up, and cradled him in her arms.

"It's… it's hard to explain," he stammered. "I don't even know if I-"

"And you!" she sternly cut him off as she traipsed back over. "You called me 'Matron' before. Who are you?"

His mouth dried up. His tongue became leaden. His eyes flitted back and forth between her and the boy she carried. How was he to tell her? It was all too impossible to believe, even for him. The sorceress who'd appeared at the orphanage that day had been Ultimecia. Edea's inspiration to form SeeD had come from a meeting with Hyne himself, on Squall's behalf. And the man who'd haunted his nightmares, his misunderstood savior bearing two bloodied swords, hadn't been Gilgamesh at all.

All this time… it was…

"No…"

The word left Edea's mouth as nothing but a hoarse whisper. The look of awe upon her face said everything; the pieces had finally clicked together.

"You… you're…!"

He turned his head away, looking back to the orphanage.

Now you know, Matron. You always knew. Ever since…

His thoughts stalled as he noticed another onlooker watching them. A young boy with short blonde hair peeked his head out from behind one of the house's stone columns. He ducked back around in a hurry the moment their eyes met.

"You must leave!"

Edea's tone paired with her abrupt swell in volume pulled his attention back. Her face now looked much the same as he could recall whenever he or the others had misbehaved under her care.

"I'm terribly sorry, but you do not belong here. The only Squall permitted here is this boy."

Her fierce stare remained locked to him for several long, silent moments. In the end, Squall could only nod. This was his home no longer. But perhaps in another time, it would be again.

"Do you know how to return?" she asked, softening her voice.

His eyes fell to Zantetsuken in his left hand.

"I… think so," he answered.

Whether the Interdimensional Rift could lead him back to his own time, he had no idea; even Gilgamesh, with his untold ages worth of experience, likely wouldn't have known. He recognized it was his only option, however. He wasn't prepared to waste 13 years of his life in waiting to see his friends again. It was a risk he had to take.

"Thank you, Matron. For everything."

Her face softened next into a gentle smile. Squall knew those words must have been music to her ears. For however little she understood of the trials and tribulations to come, and however little it would be safe to tell her, he could at least leave her with that much assurance. Satisfied, he turned down the path away from the orphanage. He raised Zantetsuken after only a few steps, and focused his mind as his mentor from another world had instructed. To return to the time and place he knew, with the people he cared about, his will to tear asunder the fabric of the world could not be matched.

The portal opened as he swung the blade through the air. He turned back from the beckoning darkness for one last look at his matron, and the child now resting peacefully in her arms. Just as the fear and longing in his eyes when they'd met, he could perfectly recall how he would feel upon awakening: emotionally shaken, alone and afraid, seemingly without a friend in the world.

Hang in there, kid. It's all going to be okay. I promise.

With that, he turned away, and stepped into the unknown.