The ruins of Alexandria groaned in the night. Smoke rose from collapsed towers, and fire crawled along broken walls where once banners of pride had flown. Cries carried through the streets—wounded soldiers calling for comrades, civilians sobbing as they searched rubble for the voices of loved ones. The Guardian of Light was gone, and yet in the void left behind, five figures moved with purpose.
Zack, his sword heavy in his grip, dropped it against a shattered column and bent low to lift a slab of stone with both arms. His muscles screamed, but he heaved it up and tossed it aside. Beneath, a soldier coughed weakly, blood streaking her face. "Hang on!" Zack urged, kneeling to pull her free. "You're not done yet." His grin was faint but steady, even through exhaustion. "You're tougher than this, right?"
Noctis stood nearby, his weapons shimmering faintly as he used them like levers, jamming them beneath rubble and warping in bursts of light to pull survivors out of collapsed alleys. His breath came ragged, each warp threatening to drop him to his knees, but he pushed on. One child clung to him after being pulled free, eyes wide. "It's okay," Noctis murmured, setting the boy gently in his mother's arms. "Stay close. You'll make it." He turned before they could thank him, summoning another blade. There was no time.
Reks, shield strapped to his cracked arm, pushed aside beams and stones, every movement slow but steady. His face was pale, lips tight with pain, but his focus was unshaken. "Over here!" he called to a group of soldiers, pointing to rubble that shifted with muffled cries beneath. He planted his shield, using it as a brace while others dragged the trapped free. His body trembled, but he refused to let go.
Aerith moved among the fallen, her staff glowing softly as she knelt by the wounded. Light poured from her hands into broken bodies—knitting bones, easing pain, pulling some back from the brink. Each spell drained her further, her shoulders slumping, but her smile never faded. "Stay with me," she whispered to a soldier whose breathing slowed. "You'll see the morning. I promise." Around her, knights whispered prayers of gratitude, calling her an angel. Aerith only shook her head and moved to the next broken soul.
Beside her, Galuf lifted a man pinned beneath rubble, grunting as he hauled him free. He placed the survivor down gently before pressing his own hand against a bleeding wound, magic flowing faintly from his palm. The glow was weak—his reserves nearly spent—but it was enough. "You're good now," he said gruffly, patting the man's shoulder. "Don't waste it. Stand and help the others." His voice was rough, but his eyes softened as he moved on, supporting Aerith where her strength faltered.
The five moved through fire and ash like living threads of defiance. Every step tore at their bodies, every breath scraped against exhaustion, but they did not stop. The people needed them.
Their trinkets pulsed faintly, and Aether's voice rang through their tools, calm but edged with concern. "Warning: your vitals are critical. Physical output exceeds safe limits. If you continue, long-term damage is inevitable. I recommend immediate recovery."
Zack wiped sweat from his brow and barked a short laugh. "Yeah, thanks for the tip, Aether. But we're not done yet."
Noctis didn't even look up, warping again to pull a soldier out from a collapsed wall. His voice was low, almost a growl. "Not until everyone we can reach is safe."
Reks gritted his teeth, forcing another beam aside with his shield arm. "I've pushed myself before. This is nothing. These people need us."
Aerith whispered softly as she poured another spell into a dying knight, her body trembling. "I'll rest when they stop crying for help."
Galuf chuckled between gasps, dragging another survivor free. "Lass, I'm too old to listen to machines tell me when to stop. I'll stop when my body drops—and not a second sooner."
For a moment, silence lingered in the trinket network. Then Aether's voice came again, softer, almost pleading. "You will collapse if you continue. Please—let me take you back."
But the five ignored her, their determination burning brighter than their failing strength.
High above, Sirius watched from the Aetherveil. His eyes traced the faint threads binding each of his chosen, noting how thin and fragile they had become. Their bodies were breaking, yet their will pulled them forward. He exhaled softly, a rare smile tugging at the edge of his lips.
"Leave them, Aether," Sirius said, his voice calm but firm.
"Master?"
"They need this," Sirius continued, his gaze never leaving the ruins below. "It's not just survival. They're proving to themselves why they live. Let them."
Aether hesitated, then relented, her hum fading into the background. Sirius raised his hand, the trinkets glowing faintly on each of their arms. "I'll make them invisible. Garland's eye will not notice them while they burn themselves out." A subtle pulse spread across the ruins, cloaking the five from prying senses.
Hours passed. The five moved until their bodies refused to obey. Zack's swings slowed, his grin gone but his eyes still fierce. Noctis staggered with each warp, blood dripping from his nose. Reks's shield clattered from his arm when his strength gave out. Aerith collapsed after pouring her last spell into a wounded child. Galuf leaned on his sword, sweat dripping from his brow as his knees trembled.
Sirius's hand clenched slowly. "Enough."
The Aetherveil shimmered into view above the ruins, still veiled to mortal eyes. Aether's voice echoed in the five trinkets. "Stand still. Recovery is required." Light enveloped each of them, lifting them gently from the rubble. The people they had saved gasped as the five rose skyward, but no words were spoken—their rescuers already fading into the veil.
Within the ship, Sirius stood by the recovery bay as the pods opened. One by one, the five were lowered inside, their bodies limp, their breaths shallow. Aether's systems pulsed to life, healing fields humming softly.
"They gave everything tonight," Sirius murmured, his gaze lingering on each of them. "And they will again."
He turned toward the bridge, his eyes narrowing on the dark horizon where Garland's shadow lingered unseen. "Rest now, all of you. The true war hasn't even begun."