Through the Looking Glass

"Destiny's crossroads," Aerith said, looking at the portal warily. It always felt to Cloud that she could perceive more than the others and never had this felt more acute.

"What will we find on the other side?" Tifa asked.

"Freedom. Boundless, terrifying freedom. Like a great, never-ending sky. What you heard just now were the voices of the planet. Those born into this world. Who lived and who died. Who returned. They're howling in pain."

"Because of him? Sephiroth?" Cloud asked, fingering the hilt of his sword.

"They... Their words… they don't reach him. All these moments and memories, precious and fleeting… they're like rain rolling off his back… And when they're gone, he won't cry… or shout… or anything. He'd tell you that he only cares about the planet. That he'd do everything in his power to protect and preserve it. But this isn't the way it's supposed to be. There's no greater threat to the planet than him. Sephiroth has to be stopped. He has to be. And that's why… I'm asking you to help me. I know that, together, we can do this. But if we do… We'll be changing more than fate itself. If we succeed… if we win… we'll be changing ourselves..."

"You said it yourself. He has to be stopped. And frankly, I've heard enough howling for a lifetime," Cloud said.

"Thank you, Cloud. Whatever happens, we'll be okay… as long as we stick together," Aerith smiled dazzlingly at Cloud and took his hand. It felt silky and smooth and right. They both took a step forward, through the threshold, into the crossroads.