Far above Ivalice, the Aetherveil floated unseen in the void, cloaked in veils of crystal and silence. Its heart pulsed like a star, each beat resonating through the ship's hull and spilling faint streams of light across the viewing chamber. Sirius hovered in the core, cloaked in radiance, his gaze fixed beyond the stars.
He felt it.
A disturbance gnawed at the threads of fate — faint at first, but growing stronger, like storm-winds pressing against a door. A portal stirred in the distance: unstable, not yet fully formed, but seeping foul streams of energy across worlds.
It has begun, Sirius thought grimly. Chaos is moving again. The threads fray faster than before. I will need more shields… more hands to hold the line when the storm breaks.
As he considered his next move, a familiar squeaky voice rang across the ship.
"Hey, Sirius! Guess what? I finally mastered synthesis!"
The words were bright with pride, and they pulled Sirius's attention away from the far horizon. He turned his gaze toward the forge corner of the Aetherveil, where Nibelo stood proudly on his workbench. The little moogle's turquoise pom-pom bounced furiously, glowing brighter with each excited heartbeat. Fragments of broken hilts and shards of crystal littered the floor around him like confetti from a victory parade.
Leaning nearby, Nyx Ulric crossed his arms, a crooked smirk tugging at his scarred face. "Finally. Now I can stop hearing you whine about sacrifices every time you hammer out a new equipment."
Nibelo stamped his foot indignantly, wings fluttering. "It's nyot whining, kupo! I just don't like the rules! You make one nice thing, and then the forge says, 'Sorry, toss it away if you want something better.' Who even made that up?"
Nyx shrugged lazily, his voice dripping with dry humor. "Think of it like family. Two parents give up pieces of themselves to make a child. Something new, something stronger, born from sacrifice."
The moogle froze mid-hop, ears twitching. His eyes went wide. "…Why didn't you tell me that earlier, kupo?!"
"Because," Nyx muttered, dragging a gloved hand across his face, "you already talk enough for both of us."
Sirius allowed the banter to play out for a moment before he finally spoke, his tone calm yet edged with approval. "Good. You've done well, Nibelo. You've mastered the art of synthesis. Which means you're ready for the next step."
Nibelo perked up immediately, pom-pom glowing brighter. "Next step?!"
"The next world," Sirius said. "Gaia. The world of Zack and Aerith. There, you will study Materia Smithing."
The air shifted as Aether currents surged through the chamber. Light bent, forming a vast holographic projection that filled the room — a great blue planet wrapped in swirling white clouds. Images shimmered within: the vibrant chaos of Wall Market's Weapon Shop, the solemn elders of Cosmo Canyon, the eerie glow of materia crystallized in the earth.
"Materia socketing. Resonance tuning," Sirius continued. "You will learn both the craft and the spirit of the forge. Your bracelet will conceal your true self, for there are no moogles on Gaia. To them, you must appear as hume."
The little moogle gulped, wings trembling. "N-no moogles? Not one? Kupo…" He touched the bracelet at his wrist. "…Okay. I'll try."
"Not alone," Sirius said, his voice calm but firm. Nyx was already standing beside Nibelo, the steady shadow he had been since Sirius bound him to the task. The faint gleam of starlight caught the scar carved into his cheek.
Nyx raised an eyebrow, smirking dryly. "Figures. You keep tossing me from one world to the next, always the watchdog."
Sirius's gaze didn't waver. "Not watchdog. Guardian. Protect him."
Nyx let out a long breath through his nose, his grip tightening slightly on the hilt at his hip. "…Yeah. I've been doing that. And I'll keep doing it."
Nibelo's pom-pom glowed softly as he looked between them, ears twitching. "Kupo… I know. He's already been protecting me."
The teleportation chamber shuddered as the Aetherveil bent the seams of reality. Starlight coiled into spirals, weaving into a gateway. The hum of the ship deepened, vibrating in their bones. In a single flash, the two were gone — swallowed by light and flung across the void.
They landed on crimson stone.
Nibelo stumbled forward, immediately adjusting his bracelet. Light shimmered across his body, concealing his wings and pom-pom until he appeared as a small, wide-eyed hume child. He wobbled slightly on his feet, unused to the form, but his face glowed with determination. "K-kupo—" He stopped, clearing his throat. "I mean… let's do this."
Around them, Cosmo Canyon rose like a fortress carved from the earth itself. Crimson cliffs stacked into endless tiers, lit by lanterns that glowed warm against the twilight sky. The eternal flame at the canyon's heart burned steadily, its golden light casting long shadows. Elders and scholars walked the stone paths, their robes whispering as they paused to look at the newcomers.
Eyes lingered not on Nibelo, who passed for an ordinary child, but on Nyx.
The glaive's scarred face, the way his shoulders carried weight like armor, the faint shimmer of aether stitched into his very veins — all marked him as something other than ordinary.
"Another SOLDIER?" one scholar muttered suspiciously, invoking the cursed name of Shinra's experiments.
"What reactor feeds his veins?" another whispered.
"No," said a third, his tone sharp with insight. "He is not Shinra's work. Not mako. Not pure Lifestream. He feels… other. Like a shard of starlight hammered into flesh."
Murmurs rippled through the canyon. Suspicion spread quickly, each voice carrying a different judgment.
A stern scholar stepped forward, eyes narrowing at Nibelo. "Child, beware. The man at your side is not of our Planet. His blade may cut more than your enemies."
Nibelo stiffened, pom-pom glowing faintly despite the bracelet's disguise. "He's not a monster!" he squeaked, voice trembling but firm. "He's my guard! And my friend!"
Nyx smirked faintly, though there was no humor in it. "Great. First I was a dog of Lucis. Now I'm a mako mutt in their eyes. Story of my life."
He spoke lightly, but the words cut deep. Nyx had known too many stares, too many whispered judgments. To be branded a weapon, a tool, a thing that belonged to someone else's command — it never stopped hurting, no matter how many times he carried it.
The crowd pressed in closer, suspicion mounting.
And then a warm, resonant voice carried above them all.
"Enough."
The canyon folk parted as Bugenhagen descended upon his strange floating device, robes flowing in the wind. His long beard caught the firelight, and his eyes twinkled with a wisdom that was both kind and piercing.
He studied Nyx for a long moment, gaze cutting past scars and armor into something deeper. "This one's fate has already been burned away once," the sage said slowly. "Yet somehow… it has reignited. He is… a living echo."
Gasps spread through the canyon. Some recoiled in fear. Others whispered prayers. The words carried weight, as if naming a truth that had long lingered unsaid.
Nyx felt the weight of all those eyes again, but this time it was different. Not suspicion. Not scorn. Awe, maybe. Or fear. He wasn't sure which felt heavier.
Bugenhagen turned his gaze to Nibelo, and the boy-illusion trembled beneath that ancient stare. Yet the sage's tone softened. "And you, little starborn, are not here by chance. You have come to learn materia's song. To weave the Lifestream's crystals into tools that guard life and preserve hope."
Nibelo swallowed hard, then squared his tiny shoulders. "Y-yes, kupo. I mean… yes. I came to learn. I want to build things that save people. Weapons, armor, charms. Anything that keeps others standing."
The canyon folk murmured, voices shifting from suspicion to curiosity. Some still frowned, but others nodded faintly, as if reassured by the moogle's determination despite his strange appearance.
Bugenhagen's smile was faint but approving. "Then come. The Lifestream sings here, and it will teach those willing to listen. But heed me, starborn: every crystal has a memory, every materia a voice. They do not simply grant power. They ask questions in return. To craft with them is to answer."
Nibelo's eyes widened, pom-pom flickering bright beneath the bracelet's illusion. "Kupo… I'll answer. I promise."
Nyx lingered at the edge of the gathering, hands clenched loosely at his sides. He still felt the weight of their stares. Living echo. The title tasted strange, like ash and promise both.
Bugenhagen's words rang in his ears: burned away once, yet somehow reignited.
He thought of the fire that had consumed him once before. The night his fate had been sealed. The memory of a promise unkept. And now, standing here, on a world that wasn't his, he was seen — not as a weapon, not as a tool, but as something rare. Something impossible.
Nibelo tugged at his sleeve, drawing him back to the present. "Nyx… you'll stay with me, right? Even if they look at you funny?"
The glaive's smirk returned, smaller but more genuine. "Yeah, kid. I'll stay. Someone's got to keep you from blowing yourself up."
The canyon folk laughed softly at that, the tension easing. For a moment, even the canyon flame seemed to burn brighter.
Bugenhagen gestured, turning back toward the flame-lit halls. "Come then. There is much to teach."
Nibelo straightened, eyes shining. "Then let's learn, kupo."
And so the little moogle, disguised as a boy, and the glaive called a living echo stepped deeper into Cosmo Canyon. One seeking the knowledge to forge materia's song, the other carrying the weight of a fate reborn.
Above them, the eternal flame flickered and the Lifestream whispered, waiting to test them both.