The wind was quieter here, the Aetherveil drifting just above the plains. The synchronizers still pulsed faintly on their wrists, binding them to the ship, to each other. Yet no one spoke at first. They all stared at Aerith, waiting for something more.
It was Vivi who broke the silence. His voice was small, but steady.
"I… I heard a rumor once," he said. "After Alexandria burned, people said they saw five figures floating in the sky before the city was gone. Everyone thought it was just a story, but…" His eyes lifted, round and searching. "That was you, wasn't it?"
Aerith's smile faltered, gentling into something softer, sadder. "It was. We tried to save who we could. But not all could be saved."
Vivi's gaze fell to the deck. His hands clenched around his staff. "Neither could we. Zidane, Garnet, Steiner, Freya, and me—we fought with everything we had, but too many lives were lost."
Aerith stepped forward, kneeling so her eyes met his. She took his tiny hands gently. "And yet you saved some, Vivi. That matters. Even if it feels too small, it matters."
For a moment, silence stretched, broken only by the hum of the ship.
Then Mog leaned toward Serah, whispering a little too loudly. "The boy with the tail… that's the mouse, kupo."
Aerith blinked and chuckled softly. "At the Festival of the Hunt in Lindblum, Sirius was watching us. The mouse competitor won. We thought he must have been the chosen. I never imagined it would be you, Vivi."
Vivi shook his head quickly, voice low but firm. "You've got it wrong. Zidane had the tail. He was a thief—reckless, kind, always jumping ahead. The mouse… that was Freya. And she wasn't just a competitor. She was a Dragoon."
Serah's brows rose. "A Dragoon? Like Noctis?"
"Not the same," Vivi said, shaking his head. "Freya was Burmecian. A mouse warrior. And…" He hesitated, swallowing hard. "She was from Burmecia, and from Cleyra too. But Cleyra… Cleyra was destroyed."
Aerith's hands trembled against his. She closed her eyes, shivering. "Yes. We saw it. Bahamut's flare… it didn't just strike. It disintegrated Cleyra. I still remember the light, the way it shook the air. I'll never forget that feeling."
The two of them sat together in silence, bound by the same grief though their worlds had been different.
At last, Vivi lifted his head. His voice quavered, but it carried warmth too. "Zidane… he laughed in the face of danger. He was always saving me. At the end…" His throat tightened. "At the end, he didn't come back. He gave his life so we could live."
His eyes glimmered, but he pressed on. "Garnet… she became queen of Alexandria. She carried her people's grief even when her own heart was breaking. Steiner, her knight… he was stubborn, loud, foolish sometimes, but he was loyal. Always loyal."
Vivi's tone softened, reverent. "Freya carried love and loss like armor. She searched for the one she loved, but never abandoned us. Quina…" He actually laughed, a surprised little sound. "Quina was strange. Always chasing frogs, always cooking. They could turn anything into food. Even when everything seemed lost, Quina made us laugh."
Mog puffed his pom approvingly. "A toad-eating chef? Mog respects that, kupo."
Vivi's smile grew, fragile but real. "Eiko was just a child… but a summoner, like you, Luna. She bossed me around, told me I had to be braver. She carried the strength of whole generations in her tiny hands."
Lunafreya bowed her head slightly. "Then she and I share more than power."
"And Amarant…" Vivi's voice dropped, almost sly. "He was an assassin. Cold, distant. But he was searching for something too. In the end, he found part of it with us."
His words came faster, tumbling out like water breaking free of a dam. His little hands trembled, his voice breaking and rising, laughter mingling with tears. "They were my friends. My family. I wouldn't be who I am without them."
For the first time since Bhujerba, light shone in Vivi's eyes. The shadows that had clung to him lifted, replaced by pride, sorrow, and joy all tangled together. He looked younger, smaller somehow, but also stronger—as if his companions stood beside him even now.
Serah brushed tears from her cheeks. "He's… happy."
Mog nodded gravely. "Happier than Mog has ever seen, kupo."
Clive's jaw eased, his hard expression softening. Lunafreya smiled faintly, eyes gentle. Even Auron's stoic gaze warmed, just for a moment, with respect.
They saw him clearly now: a boy shaped by grief, but carried forward by love.
The warmth lingered until Aerith suddenly stilled. Her smile faded. She gripped her staff tight, her eyes distant.
"The air here…" she whispered. "It's heavy. The Wood is crying. Something's wrong."
The joy dimmed. Clive straightened, hand on his blade. Lunafreya's gaze sharpened.
"Then we'll find it," Clive said firmly.
Auron's gravelly voice rumbled low. "And if it hunts us, it'll regret it."
Aerith's words about the Wood still lingered when Aether's calm voice filled the deck.
"Before I deliver you to the jungle's edge, you will undergo recovery."
"Recovery?" Serah blinked.
"The battles you have fought leave more than scars," Aether said. "Hidden fractures, torn sinew, exhausted aether-lines. You will not walk into the Golmore Jungle carrying wounds you pretend are not there."
Mog puffed up indignantly. "Mog feels fine, kupo."
"You are not," Aether replied, her tone final.
The deck shifted beneath their feet, glowing panels parting to reveal a circular platform. Mist curled upward in shimmering blue-white light.
"This is the Recovery Bay," Aerith explained softly, her voice tinged with familiarity. "It heals more than what you can see."
They stepped into the glow one by one. Warmth surged through them, deeper than flesh, seeping into bone and spirit. Clive gasped as tension he hadn't realized eased from his shoulders. Lunafreya's breath steadied as the fatigue of countless spellcastings dissolved. Vivi trembled as his hands stopped shaking. Serah and Mog laughed when tingling energy raced across their skin. Even Auron grunted, the old stiffness in his arm softening.
When the light faded, they felt lighter, renewed, whole.
"The procedure is complete," Aether said, her voice calm as the mist dispersed.
Clive flexed his fingers, astonished at the steadiness in them. "So this… this is the strength of your ship."
"Part of it," Aerith said with a small smile.
The platform sank back into the deck, the runes dimming as if nothing had changed.
But deep within the Aetherveil, invisible to Clive's party, a second process completed. Lattices of light shaped themselves into silhouettes—measurements of bone, heart, soul, and aether-flow. Quietly, without a word, Aether sent the full report into Sirius's hands.
On the deck, the party only felt the hum of the ship shift as its engines carried them toward the horizon, where the wall of the Golmore Jungle rose like a sleeping titan.
Clive adjusted his sword. Aerith lifted her staff. And together, they prepared to walk where only the Wood decided who might enter.