The creature writhed, pinned to the wall by the lance and the man behind it. Kain glanced over his shoulder, ensuring that Edward was unscathed before pulling back and letting the abomination bleed out on the throne room floor. He caught the bard by the arm, hauling him up and forward at once as he ran... as they ran, the three of them together.

He dropped Edward, letting him slide off, gasping, onto the floor. Yang stood, worn but not defeated, not yet... It was too much, too fast, but they had to hold, here, in the silent glow of the crystal – it was too far, no further.

Click, he lifted his head, click, Edward, huddled on the floor, click, Yang, staring past him, raised and ready to fight, click, gentle footfalls on the mirrored floor. Something inside didn’t want him to turn around, and told him so when he finally did.

"Cecil." He wanted to be relieved, but he couldn’t. There was wrong, in every step the dark knight took. This wasn’t his best friend; this was the Captain of the Red Wings – the Red Wings that invaded Mysidia, that destroyed Damcyan, and that were now laying ruin to Fabul. Kain twirled his spear to edge, his heart dreading the inevitable.

"Is that any way to greet an old friend," Cecil scoffed. He raised his hands, I’m harmless, he smiled, and the spear lowered. "My lord was very displeased at your disappearance, you know?"

"I thought you forswore your lord when he ordered you to kill women and children in cold blood," Kain replied, his voice steadier than his hand.

"Yes, well.... " the dark knight began, and shook his head. He held out one hand, gauntlet obscured, absorbing the light. "Come back, Kain. You know you belong with us."

You can go home, live as you once lived, be as you once were. Honor, strength, oblivion – all he had to do was forget... All he had to do... was sell his soul.

Rosa. Of course she had to know. She loved Cecil, more than she had ever loved him. She had to know, and she had to see, and she had to save him – even if she didn’t love him.

Even if she didn’t know, not really, never really.

Kain struck, fast, knocking the offer away, far away, get away. Cecil recoiled, clutching his hand. His snarl cut short, as the dragoon waved, almost frantic, and he saw her. Ashamed, he saw the Caller instead, surprised, "She’s alive...?"

She bounded past, terrified, to hide behind Kain, off limits. She pouted at him from the protection of the dragoon’s lance, and he saw the white. Rosa’s white, dirty with the blood of the innocent... She stood beside him, ignoring Kain’s gestured warnings, and overherenow, please.

Whatever had a hold of him tightened its invisible grip, and his Cecil... their Cecil was gone again. But he was there, if only for an instant.

"I do not fail," the monster growled, in his voice, tainted, pained. He stalked forward, every movement awkward as if he fought against some unseen power. Anger, hate – not even his – focused on the little girl that escaped him in Mist.

And Kain was in his way.

"No." Part of him wanted it, wanted to fight, to kill. But he said, "No."

Don’t do this.

Cecil drew his sword, and Kain didn’t flinch. He thought to move, to fight, but the strength of No kept him grounded.

The dark fire enveloped him... Dying didn’t hurt half as much as he had thought, but it hurt in a completely different way.

He felt numb as his flesh mended, and pain as the magic wavered and faded. He couldn’t remember where he was, or why, and for a fleeting moment he thought he was the Queen of Troia. It took opening his eyes, noticing the others, noticing Rydia...

She stood, cold and alone in the middle of the room. She only looked at him when he rolled over, and that due to the earsplitting protest of his armor. He tried to call her over, but his voice wasn’t working, so he gestured instead. She paused, uncertain. He looked away, trying to clear his head, and when he looked back she was there in front of him.

"Are you alright?" he rasped, and she avoided his gaze. He reached for her hands – angry burned red, and he wondered about that – and she peeked nervously over his arm. He didn’t know what to think, what to say, and the best he could manage was, "Come here."

He held her for a while, lost and uncertain. She clung to him, although he wasn’t sure if it was because she needed him or because she thought she was supposed to, or because she realized that he needed her strength.

It was a strange feeling, but he couldn’t deny it. After everything... she saved him.