A low hum filled the air as the rift opened in the sky above the battlefield. Shimmering light spiraled downward like a comet, striking the ground with a force that sent cracks spider-webbing through the dry earth.

The dust hadn't even settled when a familiar voice, calm but urgent, cut through the breeze.

"…This isn't Cocoon."

From the smoke emerged a figure clad in orange and green, silver hair tousled by the wind. Hope Estheim blinked into the hazy expanse of the strange world—familiar and unfamiliar all at once. His hands gripped the staff slung across his back, knuckles pale.

"Where—no, when—am I?"

Before he could even finish his thought, something massive thundered in behind him. He barely had time to pivot as a hulking iron behemoth slammed its fist into the ground where he had stood seconds before.

A Machina? Here?

Hope dove, rolled, and came up in a crouch, staff at the ready. With a flick of his wrist, crystalline energy formed around him, casting buffs and barriers. He darted forward, launching a flurry of magic shots at the enemy.

"You're definitely not from Pulse," he muttered.

The machine reeled, just enough for Hope to slide beneath it and blast the joint of its knee. Steam erupted, the sound of groaning metal piercing the air.

But before the final blow could land, a blur of pink lightning streaked in from the left.

A radiant flash.

One clean strike.

And the Machina collapsed in a heap of scorched parts.

"…I had that," Hope said breathlessly, lowering his staff.

A pair of boots crunched over the scorched earth. The woman didn't speak at first, but her eyes—hard, focused—softened at the edges as they met his.

"Hope."

Hope froze. His throat went dry. "L-Lightning…"

She gave a rare smile, faint but real. "You've grown."

Before Hope could react, a deeper, far too casual voice echoed across the plains:

"Aw, look at that—Hope always finds a way to Lightning."

Hope groaned audibly and turned, just in time to see Snow sauntering up like he hadn't just crossed a war zone. Arms crossed, grin obnoxiously wide, the taller man looked far too pleased with himself.

"Still can't keep away from her, huh?" Snow added, nudging Lightning with an elbow.

Hope flushed bright red. "Snow!"

"Hey, hey, I'm just saying—" Snow didn't get the chance to finish as Hope's elbow slammed into his ribs with pinpoint accuracy.

"Oof—!" Snow staggered, still laughing. "Okay, okay! Kid's got moves now!"

"Not a kid anymore," Hope muttered, trying to hide the smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth.

Lightning crossed her arms, watching them with an exasperated shake of her head. "Some things never change."

A sudden tremor rocked the ground beneath them. Cracks split the earth, and an eerie blue mist began to spill forth, forming into twisted shadowy warriors.

Hope's eyes narrowed. "Guess the reunion's on hold."

Lightning unsheathed her gunblade in one smooth motion. "We've got work to do."

Snow cracked his knuckles, stepping forward beside her. "Just like old times, huh?"

Hope smirked, summoning his boomerang-shaped weapon and standing between them. "Let's show them what Team Nora can do."

The three launched into the fray as if no time had passed. Lightning carved a path through the frontlines with fluid strikes, precise and merciless. Snow took the brute force approach, barreling through the enemy lines like a freight train. And Hope—hope danced like wind and magic, weaving spells that shielded his friends and annihilated the monsters from afar.

At one point, Snow caught a blast meant for Hope on his arm, only to grin and yell, "You owe me, kid!"

"I already elbowed you in the ribs," Hope replied coolly, launching a chain spell that knocked three enemies off their feet.

Lightning rolled her eyes. "Focus."

Hours—or maybe only minutes—passed in the storm of battle. Eventually, the last of the shadows dissipated into mist, leaving only silence in their wake.

The three stood, shoulder to shoulder, breathing heavily but still standing strong.

Hope looked between them and let out a long breath. "I thought I'd never see either of you again."

Snow clapped a hand on his shoulder. "Told ya—you always find your way to us."

Hope looked at Lightning, who met his gaze with a calm, steady nod. No words, just understanding.

A portal shimmered nearby, beckoning them to the next phase of this strange war-torn realm.

Lightning turned to them, blade resting on her shoulder. "Let's go. Cosmos isn't going to win this without us."

Hope smiled.

"Right behind you."

Moments later...

"Yo! Is that who I think it is?" called out a cheerful voice.

Zidane waved from atop a collapsed pillar, leaping down with feline grace and landing beside Vaan and Bartz, who were mid-argument over who was better at dual-wielding.

Tidus, lounging on a piece of rubble with his hands behind his head, gave a thumbs-up. "Look who finally decided to show up."

Hope was still adjusting to the surreal sight of so many warriors from different worlds gathered in one place when Zidane jogged over and threw an arm around his shoulders.

"Hope, right? The prodigy? Lightning's favorite?"

Hope blinked. "Wait, what—"

"Oh no," Lightning muttered under her breath, already stepping back.

And right on cue—

Snow burst into laughter from behind, his voice echoing across the plateau.

"I told you guys! Hope always finds Lightning. Kid's been following her around since day one!"

Hope's eyes widened. "Snow, don't—"

Snow ignored the warning entirely, gesturing animatedly as he launched into full big-brother embarrassment mode. "I swear, he could track her with emotional radar. One time back on Pulse, he—"

"Snow!" Hope growled, lunging forward—

Thud.

A perfectly placed elbow slammed into Snow's ribs again. The big man doubled over with a winded "Oof!" and stumbled sideways, coughing out a laugh.

Tidus burst into open laughter, practically falling off the rock he was perched on. "Man, that was clean. You been practicing that move or what?"

Zidane wagged a finger playfully. "Classic love denial elbow. Happens all the time in the Tantalus troupe."

"Love?!" Hope sputtered. "It's not—I don't—it's not like that!"

Vaan grinned. "Sure, sure. We believe you, man."

Bartz leaned in, stage-whispering, "Honestly, I ship it."

Hope looked like he wanted the ground to swallow him whole.

Lightning, watching from a short distance away with her arms crossed, finally sighed and stepped in—not to defend Hope, but to redirect the conversation with her usual icy precision.

"We're wasting time. We didn't regroup here to gossip like schoolkids."

"Oh, ouch," Zidane said, hands raised. "Buzzkill mode activated."

Snow recovered just enough to throw an arm around Hope's shoulders, laughing through the pain. "Aw, come on, Light—he missed you. We all did."

"Some of us just don't overshare about it," Lightning replied dryly.

Hope gave a long-suffering sigh, then tilted his head toward Snow. "You do realize I'm hitting harder every time, right?"

Snow winked. "And I'm proud of you for it, kid."

"I'm not a kid anymore."

"Right, right," Bartz teased. "You're a mature warrior of destiny now—with a crush."

The group broke out into another round of laughter. Even Lightning's mouth twitched slightly at the corner.

Hope buried his face in his hands, groaning. "Can I go back to fighting Chaos now?"

Zidane slapped him on the back. "Nope. This is your life now, buddy. Welcome back to the team."