The morning sun stretched long beams of light across the trees as Vivi, Zidane, Garnet, and Quina left the Black Mage Village behind. The faint sound of birds stirred in the forest canopy, mingling with the crunch of dirt under their boots.
Vivi looked back once, his hat drooping, his glowing eyes soft. He clutched the trinket close to his chest, as if afraid it would vanish. Behind him, standing near the graveyard where rows of silent comrades lay, No. 288 watched them leave. The other Black Mages gathered in small groups nearby—some watching curiously, some turning back to their tasks.
When Vivi's small form disappeared between the trees, 288's head lowered. His voice, quiet as the wind, carried only to the stone markers before him.
"I guess the deal is done. The charm has been passed. I wonder when… when he will come back."
With that, 288 turned and walked back among his kin. The others scattered slowly, tending to gardens, repairing huts, watching the chocobo that had been born recently. For them, life continued in its fragile rhythm. But for 288, the words of the mysterious man weighed heavily. The promise. The deal.
---
Meanwhile, Sirius, unseen by mortal eyes, stood upon the ridge above the village, watching Vivi's group leave through the Fossil Roo path. The boy carried the trinket now—the bond was sealed. Sirius's sharp gaze lingered until they vanished from sight, then shifted toward the small collection of huts and fields hidden in the forest clearing.
"It's time," Sirius murmured.
With a single step, he was gone from the ridge and appeared silently in the Black Mage Village. He materialized near the graveyard, where 288 stood once more among the rows of markers, head bowed. Sirius approached with calm steps, his presence heavy yet not oppressive.
"So," Sirius said, his voice carrying like a quiet chord, "you have given the trinket to the child."
288 turned sharply, cloak rustling, his glowing eyes narrowing. Then, recognizing the figure, he nodded slowly. "Yeah," he said, his tone low but firm. "I gave it. He… he deserves it more than anyone."
Sirius inclined his head. "Then the deal we struck is nearly complete." His gaze swept across the graves. "You did your part, and now I will do mine. Gather them—your people. I will speak to them all."
288 hesitated only briefly, then nodded. "Understood."
He left the graveyard and walked through the village square, calling softly but firmly. "Everyone, come. Gather in the center. It's important."
The Black Mages slowly emerged. Some were cautious, curious, or simply afraid. They shuffled with hesitant steps, their wide glowing eyes glancing at one another. One mage clutched a large chocobo egg in its arms, rocking it gently as though it were a child. Another stood protectively beside him, arms spread as though to shield both mage and egg from harm.
And then they saw him.
A human.
Gasps rippled through the crowd. Some mages shrieked and stepped back, their cloaks fluttering. Others began to panic, their hands twitching with magic ready to be unleashed.
"Hum… human!" one cried.
"He's here to hurt us!" another shouted, trembling.
"No!" 288's voice cut through the panic, steady and commanding. His glowing eyes burned with conviction as he stepped forward. "He's not here to harm us. He… he's the one. The one who gave us the extra days. The one who gave us more time."
The whispers fell into silence. Dozens of glowing eyes blinked, staring at Sirius. Their fear dulled into confusion, then curiosity.
Sirius stepped forward, his presence calm and unthreatening, though his aura radiated undeniable strength. He raised one hand lightly. "Do not fear. Yes, I am human—or something close. But I am not your enemy. If I wanted harm for you, you would not be here speaking with me."
He let the words settle before continuing.
"I am the one who gave you all a year of life a short while ago. That was the first part of my promise. And I am here to tell you… I can give you more. Much more."
The reaction was instant—gasps, murmurs, trembling voices.
"More…?" one whispered.
"How much more?" another asked eagerly, stepping forward.
"Why?" a third demanded, suspicion tinged with fear.
288 raised his staff. "Listen to him."
Sirius's gaze swept across them, weighing each soul, each flickering light that clung to existence. "Yes. I will give you more. But I must also ask something of you in return. This is not free."
The mages fell silent, waiting.
Sirius's eyes sharpened. "What I ask of you is simple, but heavy: I need you to prepare yourselves for a different war. Not the one you were created for, not the endless cycle of fighting for masters who saw you as tools. This war is different. Greater. More dangerous than anything you have seen before."
Shock rippled through them again. Some recoiled, others whispered nervously.
"War?" one cried.
"Again? We don't want to fight!" another protested.
Sirius lifted his hand, silencing them with his presence alone. "I understand your fear. I am not asking you to fight today, or even tomorrow. I am asking you to prepare. To train. To be ready, when the time comes, to fight for yourselves, for your freedom, and for the protection of many worlds beyond this one."
"Worlds?" a mage stammered.
"Beyond… this one?" another echoed, voice trembling.
The group erupted into confusion, their glowing eyes wide with disbelief.
288 turned, raising his arms. "Quiet! Listen!"
Slowly, the noise died down. Sirius let the silence linger, then spoke, his voice calm but firm. "Yes. Worlds. Not just Gaia, but countless others exist. And the war I speak of will not be bound to one place. It will touch them all. You can stay here, if you choose—but if you wish for more than survival, more than simply waiting for the day you stop moving, then you will come with me."
There was a pause. Then, a hesitant voice rose from the back.
"If we go with you… will we live longer?"
Sirius's gaze softened slightly. He raised his hand, and faint golden light flickered around his fingers. "Yes. If you come with me, I will extend your lifespan—not one year, not ten, but one hundred and twenty. Enough to live, to grow, to experience what you were denied. Enough to be free."
Gasps filled the square. The words struck them like lightning.
"One hundred and twenty?"
"That's… longer than any of us imagined."
"We could live like… like humans?"
Then, all at once, a great cheer rose. Mages clapped their hands, some spun in place, their cloaks fluttering as their glowing eyes gleamed with joy. For once, they shouted not in fear, but in hope.
"Yes!"
"Give us the years!"
"We will go with you!"
The sound shook the village, echoing even into the trees.
Sirius raised his hand again, and the voices died down, though the excitement still rippled through them. His tone sharpened slightly. "Not all of you must come. Some may choose to stay. That is your choice, and I will not take it from you. But those who do come must commit—train, prepare, and one day, fight in the war to come."
Silence fell for a moment. Then, one mage raised a hand nervously. "What if… what if we stay?"
Sirius's gaze softened. "Then you will keep the year I gave you. I will not take it away. You may live here, as you wish."
The crowd murmured again, quieter this time. Finally, 288 stepped forward.
"I will stay," he said firmly.
Gasps came from the others. "What? But why?"
288's glowing eyes narrowed with calm certainty. He gestured toward the two mages still holding the chocobo egg, one clutching it tightly, the other guarding them fiercely. "Because some of us are bound here. That egg is life—a new life, fragile and in need of care. They cannot leave, and I will not abandon them. Someone must protect what we've built here, even if the rest leave."
The mages murmured in agreement, nodding at 288's wisdom.
Sirius inclined his head. "Then so be it. You, and those who stay, will remain here with the year I granted you. Those who wish to leave… will have their lifespans extended."
One by one, mages stepped forward. Some stayed behind with 288, bound to the chocobo egg, or to the graves of their kin. But forty in total stood in the square, their eyes burning with newfound determination.
Sirius raised both hands, golden light swirling around him. The air hummed with energy as the magic poured out, enveloping the forty mages in a radiant glow. Their cloaks fluttered as though caught in a strong wind, their glowing eyes shining brighter than ever before.
The light sank into them, and each one felt it—the surge of life, of years stretching before them. Not a fleeting handful, but a vast ocean of time. One hundred and twenty years.
A roar of joy erupted from the group, their voices ringing with laughter and disbelief.
"We can live!"
"We can really live!"
Sirius lowered his hands, his face calm but resolute. "Yes. Live. But remember—you chose this path. One day, I will call upon you, and when that day comes, you must answer."
The mages nodded, some trembling, some standing tall, but all filled with a hope they had never known.
From the edge of the square, 288 watched silently. His eyes dimmed slightly, thoughtful, even as the others rejoiced. He knew what it meant—the burden, the responsibility. And as Sirius's gaze briefly met his, 288 murmured quietly, almost to himself:
"This… this is the beginning of something far greater than us."