rhoeysama

[rhoeysama]

Final Fantasy VII Remake - Whispers

[rhoeysama]

art of tifa, yuffie and aerith playing video games from psm issue 18

[rhoeysama]

THE GIRLSSS ☀️

[rhoeysama]

i missed drawing him v_v

[rhoeysama]

when the sun hits - slowdive

[rhoeysama]

※ Permission to upload this work was granted by the artist.

By カズ

[rhoeysama]

Reaper Aerith. Forgot to post.

Concept by @serinigalini

[rhoeysama]

I love the Aerith + Vincent one ;) (of course!)

aerith in the cover of various old magazines ❀

[rhoeysama]

POV: An angel is smiling at you 💐💐💐

[rhoeysama]

prayer.

[rhoeysama]

Echoes of the Planet - Chapter 13

New chapter is up on AO3 finally!

Final Fantasy VII (Parallel Reality/AU. Written as a sequel to I Know What's Beneath the Snow Fields). Pair: Aerith(Aeris)/Vincent Words: 3402 (this chapter) Chapter 13 of (estimated) 30-35

If you like the story, please leave a kudos/like and/or reblog this post so more people can see it. Please also leave feedback, I'm delighted to read and respond to your comments! :)

Read on AO3

-------

Chapter 13: The Space Between

“Memories are fragile things. Twist them gently enough...and even the truth forgets what it was. And you—will follow the voice that sounds familiar…even if it leads you to the end.”

 ----------

A vast emptiness swallowed her whole.

She was sinking. Dragged down like a stone through black water, the weight pulling faster, deeper, into a place without light. A space that didn’t touch time. 

Around her, the cacophony of screams and cries rose. It was everywhere—pressing in and flooding her senses.

Desperate, she clamped her hands over her ears. But it didn’t help one bit.

The sound didn’t just ring in her head—it pierced her, sharp and relentless.

She felt their pain, their despair, not just in her mind, but in her skin, her chest, even in her bones. Like her very cells were screaming with them. She wanted so badly for it to cease.

“Please…” she choked, her voice barely a breath. “Just stop…”

Then suddenly, as if on cue, everything went still. 

Her feet struck something solid, jarring her to a halt. 

The noise vanished, swallowed by the dark. The silence was so sudden it felt like the world itself had inhaled—and hadn’t exhaled yet.

She stood there, frozen, heart hammering in the void.

She’d been here before. Wherever “this” was…it knew her.

Like the emptiness itself held memory. Like it was watching her.

Studying her.

Holding its breath. Waiting.

But…waiting for what?

A sound broke the stillness—the slow, deliberate echo of footsteps. Heavy. Measured. Drawing closer through the dark.

And from the darkness, a figure emerged—stepping through a veil of black smoke, his form coalescing with unnatural grace. There was no mistaking his long silver hair and those cold eyes—they fixed on her like a predator locking onto prey.

Sephiroth. 

There was no warmth in that gaze. Only the promise of death.

Aeris’ heart slammed against her ribs as he closed in on her. The air left her lungs in a single, panicked gasp, and for a moment she couldn’t move, dread locking her in place. Then instinct surged—and she turned to run. 

But before she could even turn, he was suddenly in front of her—and he didn't stop. Her breath caught, and she froze completely. 

And then…he passed through her. 

Right through her. 

His body swept through hers like smoke, like shadow, like he wasn’t really there at all. 

The sensation left a shudder in her bones—cold and nauseating. Her knees nearly gave out. 

She stumbled back, gasping, confused. And then she heard it: the sound of ragged breathing and wretched sobs. 

She turned around and saw Sephiroth walking towards a strange man crawling across the black ground, one leg dragging uselessly behind him. He whimpered through clenched teeth, trying desperately to escape. His face twisted in agony, streaked with sweat, ash and blood. 

Sephiroth advanced toward the man with detached purpose, slow and deliberate with each step. That same cold gaze never wavered. 

He behaved as though Aeris were invisible. She backed away, staring wide-eyed as the scene unfolded. 

They couldn’t see her, she realized. She wasn���t part of this scene.

This wasn’t happening. But rather…it had happened.

What she witnessed must have been a memory. 

“No!! PLEASE!” the miserable man begged, his voice cracking. “I DON’T WANT TO DIE!!!”

Sephiroth stopped right beside the man, looming over him like a dark specter of inevitability. His long blade caught the dim light, gleaming with an unnatural sheen.

“Don’t worry,” he said. His voice was low and unnervingly calm, as though reciting facts. “It’s not death. It’s a homecoming.”

Then the sword plunged downward.

The man’s scream cut off in an instant as the blade drove through his chest. A sickening gurgle escaped his lips, blood bubbling from his throat. Aeris gave a violent start. A strangled noise caught in her throat, and pressed her hands to her mouth as tears stung her eyes. She watched the light fade from his, his body going limp.

Within seconds, he was dead.

And suddenly, the scene shattered. 

It scattered in a sudden burst of green light, into a million luminous scintillas, like sand torn apart and blown into the wind. The fragments floated, suspended, weightless around her.

Then, all around her, at varying distances in the void, more scenes ignited—phantom echoes of slaughter.

In each, Sephiroth appeared again and again, executing his victims in different, brutal ways. A mother shielding her child. A soldier dropping his weapon in surrender. A boy no older than twelve. A man protecting his village, being decapitated.

Each life ended by his hand. Each memory dissolved into luminous dust.

Then, slowly, the scattered green scintillas stirred. Drawn toward one another like particles caught in a current. They swirled inward, converging in a burst of bright green light. From that light, a shape emerged. Delicate and translucent, yet pulsing with energy. 

An hourglass.

As the glow faded, the hourglass remained, suspended in mid-air, slowly rotating. Aeris approached it in awe and bewilderment. She watched in wonder as pale sand trickled through its narrow neck, falling in a steady stream into the lower chamber, where it gathered in a soft heap.

Her fingers hovered near the glass. And when she reached out—just barely brushing the surface—she saw something peculiar in the sand. A single speck shimmered there, glinting with every hue of light, like a distant star. It was tiny, but unmistakable. It pulsed faintly, as if it were alive.

“This is…” she breathed, eyes wide.

She didn’t understand what she was seeing, but something about it filled her with dread. A sense of inevitability. Watching the slow, steady fall of the sand was like watching fate unfold, grain by grain.

Whatever this was, it wasn’t just a vision. It was a message. 

It was trying to tell her something.

The glowing grain inched closer to the narrow passage, caught in the flow. But as it approached, a fine crack spidered across the hourglass. Then another.

The pile of sand below darkened, as if ink were bleeding into it. The next few grains that fell turned black mid-air—and then to ash, before they even touched the surface.

A sudden shiver ran through her. Something was wrong—like a presence had slipped into the space without permission.

The hourglass flickered, and the darkness deepened.

Then came a voice out of nowhere—velvet-edged and cruelly calm:

“Memories are fragile things,” it said, soft and measured. “Twist them gently enough...and even the truth forgets what it was.”

Aeris tensed. She clenched her fists. Of course she knew that voice. She knew it well enough by now. It was etched into her memory.

It was him. “And you—will follow the voice that sounds familiar…even if it leads you to the end.”

And then, everything went black. 

Everything went still.

She didn’t know how long she had been out. Minutes…hours? Maybe longer. In this place, time didn’t seem to exist at all.

There came a sound from the emptiness. Like words—but muffled, as though spoken from behind a wall. She couldn’t make out what it was saying. It echoed faintly in the void. But it grew clearer, as if she were rising from underwater.

Aeris felt herself being pulled upward, toward a small warm light above.

“Hello?” 

The voice was soft and uncertain. 

“Hello??” It called again, more firmly.

Much to her bewilderment, it was her own voice, she realized.

But…her lips hadn’t moved. She hadn’t spoken.

She continued floating upward, and the light grew—soft and golden.

And with a gasp, she felt herself lifted out of the dark.

It took a moment before her eyes fluttered open. 

They stung from the brightness, and her head swam. At first, her vision was blurry, and she saw a light pour in from above. The world around her slowly took shape—golden light streaming through dust-specked air.

She had a vague sensation that something felt off—but she couldn’t name what exactly.

Had it all just been another dream?

“You’re awake.”

Startled out of her reverie, Aeris sat up suddenly—and went stiff.

A figure knelt just a short distance away, half-silhouetted by the golden light. 

When her vision focused, Aeris saw that it was a young woman. Pink dress, long brown hair in a braid, and a soft smile. The woman gazed down at her with gentle green eyes, with her hands folded in front of her, like she’d been waiting. 

Aeris forgot to breathe when she saw her. She blinked, dazed, staring at the woman in front of her, mouth agape. She dared not move. Her fingers grasped at the ground beneath her, unsure if she should speak. 

This wasn’t possible. 

It couldn’t be. 

The woman merely smiled, tilting her head slightly in an effortlessly warm way that made Aeris feel like she could see right through her—past all the walls, straight into her heart. 

“So, we finally meet,” she said evenly, as though she’d been waiting a long time.

Aeris couldn’t stop staring at her, refusing to believe her eyes. It was like looking in a mirror—and finding her own face reflected on someone else. Her pulse pounded in her ears. Her voice had cruelly been stolen from her as well. She tried to speak, but no coherent words wanted to come.

“A…Aeris?” she managed to croak, barely above a whisper.

The woman only smiled and inclined her head in a wordless confirmation.

Aeris looked around her serene surroundings. Light poured through tall colorful glass windows and the broken ceiling high above her. She discovered that she sat in a bed of fragrant white and yellow lilies. 

She knew this place. The Sector 5 church. But not as she remembered it. Something was different. It felt too still. As if it was suspended in time.

“I…I don’t understand,” she stammered, looking down at her hands, then at the woman in front of her. “...Am I dreaming?” 

Her heart sank when a dreadful thought occurred to her. “Or am I…dead?”

“You’re not dead,” Aeris assured her softly. 

There was a quiet grace to her voice. But something about it lingered just a second too long.

“Then…where exactly…am I?”

The woman smiled enigmatically and looked up to where the light streamed in through the broken ceiling. “You’re in the space between.”

“The…‘space between’?” Aeris echoed, frowning.

The woman nodded and moved closer.

“Where memory, feeling, and purpose all meet,” she said, her voice as calm as a prayer. “It’s not a place you can walk to. But you arrived. Because you were meant to.”

Aeris furrowed her brow; she couldn’t make sense of her cryptic meaning. It only left her more confused. She watched the woman in front of her, uncertainty flickering in her chest. As if her mind couldn’t quite trust what it was experiencing.

She looked almost exactly as Aeris had imagined her—like a memory brought to life. A ghost made flesh.

And yet, something inside her twisted. She couldn’t shake the unsettling sense that this place wasn’t safe, though she wasn’t sure why.

“I know your story,” the woman said, a sad smile just touching her lips.

Aeris flinched — just barely — but the words pierced deeper than she expected. She gave a small, uncertain smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes. Her voice trembled with something unspoken—hope, or maybe fear.

The woman's gaze was gentle and held a quiet understanding as she nodded. “I know. You wonder if you’re real—if you even count. If you’re just…someone else’s shadow.”

Aeris’ breath caught. Her use of the words ‘real’ and ‘shadow’...it was almost like she could peer straight into her soul and read her like an open book—dragging out thoughts she’d only dared to share with one person... 

“I can’t imagine how hard it must be for you,” the other woman sympathized gently. “To have no past. No real home. Not even parents. Just a life that started in a glass tube.”

She moved a step closer. Her eyes shimmered with sorrow, and she placed a hand on Aeris’ shoulder.

“To have been made, not born. Created as a tool for someone else’s purpose…not even asked what you wanted to be.”

A knot rose in Aeris’ chest. Her lip quivered. She looked away, unable to meet the woman’s eyes.

“I have so many questions,” Aeris whispered. “Can you help me understand?”

The woman regarded her for a moment, then slowly rose to her feet. She reached out her hand.

“Come with me,” she said. “There’s something I want you to see.”

Aeris took her hand, and the woman helped her to her feet. Together, they walked through the stillness of the church. 

When they reached the great doors, they creaked open with a soft groan.

Nothing could have prepared Aeris for what greeted her. 

Outside weren't the ruins of the slums. It wasn’t Midgar at all. 

The sky above them stretched too wide — as though the heavens had been torn open. Jagged streaks of green Lifestream spilled like veins through the firmament, threading in unnatural patterns. Far in the distance, the horizon bled outward in impossible ways — curving into itself, bending at angles that defied logic. Floating shards of land spun in slow spirals, flickering like scenes from another life; like dreams on the edge of forgetting. Cities blinked into being — and vanished again. 

Nothing was fixed. All of it breathed. All of it was in flux.

The ground shimmered like solid water, stretching out toward a horizon that refused to stay still.

Aeris stopped in her tracks.

“What…what is this?”

The woman beside her didn’t flinch. Her voice was soft. Reverent.

“This is where the threads meet. The place where realities converge — and unravel.”

Aeris turned to her, but the other woman was already gazing up at the broken sky.

“‘The threads’?” Aeris echoed. “...‘Unravel’?”

She glanced skyward again. Threads of Lifestream curled through the stars like rivers of light, weaving a vast tapestry across the heavens.

A tapestry of realities—shifting, flickering, blinking in and out of existence like dying dreams. Everything shimmered in hues of opalescent light.

Words surfaced, unbidden—returning to her like a whisper from somewhere far away.

“‘The thread unravels’…” she murmured, tracing the green currents above. “‘One cut, and all is undone. From one, many…from many, none.’”

“What?”

Aeris shook her head. “It’s…something I heard in a dream,” she said quietly, more to herself. “Was the Planet…trying to warn me? About this?” 

She turned toward the woman. “Why?”

The woman’s expression softened. “To help you understand what’s at stake,” she said gently. “And what’s still to come.”

Aeris processed her words. 

“Is this…” Her voice caught. She hesitated, then forced the rest out. “Is all of this…because of him? Sephiroth?”

The woman glanced askance at her, but didn’t answer. Instead, she looked out at the horizon with weary understanding.

“He’s reaching for something no being was meant to touch. He isn’t just trying to conquer the world…he’s trying to become it.”

The words lodged deep in Aeris’ chest. She stared in horror, her pulse quickening. 

“So…he’s really not gone?” Her voice quivered. “But how? Cloud, Tifa, and the others—they defeated him. How is he still—?”

The woman raised a hand, stopping her gently. “It’s not that simple.”

Aeris fell quiet. The words lingered in the air like vapor.

“He exists in memory…” the woman continued, “and memory feeds reality.”

“What are you saying?” Aeris asked. Her heart pounded.

“He was never only human. That part is gone…but the rest? That’s harder to bury.” 

Aeris’ limbs quaked with a quiet dread she couldn’t suppress. The very thought that something like him could still linger—bodiless, shapeless—sent a cold ripple through her spine.

“And if he reaches his goal,” the woman continued, “he’ll transcend time and reality—exist everywhere, always. He’ll merge with the Lifestream — not just as memory, but permanence. Eternity. The Planet won’t be able to resist him. Nothing will.” A flicker of something unreadable crossed her face, and her voice dropped to a whisper. “He will never be just a memory.”

“And you…” the woman paused, eyes resting on Aeris. “You’re part of why the Planet is still resisting.”

Aeris drew back a step. “Me?”

The woman gave a slow, solemn nod. “Your existence defies what was written. That means something.”

A hollow ache rose in Aeris’ chest.

“What are you trying to tell me?” she asked, forcing herself to meet the other woman’s gaze.

The woman met her eyes with a calm, almost tender expression. “That sometimes, the Planet asks one soul to carry what others can’t.”

Aeris didn’t know if the words steadied her or hollowed her out further. She had already borne so much. Could there really be more?

“Maybe you exist for a bigger purpose,” the woman went on. “Maybe you were made to be something more.”

A long silence settled between them—but Aeris didn’t step away.

Then the woman spoke again, her voice low, steeped in quiet gravity. “The Planet is crying out. It needs someone to listen. Someone who can reach its heart.” Aeris looked away. She remembered the last time she stood between someone she loved and the edge of death. How much it hurt. How close she came to losing everything. 

And now, beside her, stood the woman who had once done the same—only braver. The real Cetra. The one who could hear the Planet clearly, who belonged to a people, a lineage. Whose courage had cost her everything.

Aeris had none of that. No ancestors. No deep connection to some ancient past. Just what she was made to be—and the shadow of someone else’s sacrifice.

“I don’t know if I can do that,” she murmured. “I’m not strong enough.”

The woman stepped behind her, voice close now. Low and comforting. “Real strength is standing up when no one else can—when it matters most.”

Those words made Aeris’ body stiffen.

“True love,” she said, resting a hand lightly on Aeris’ shoulder, “means putting others before yourself.” Her voice was soft. Reverential. Almost proud. “The Planet doesn’t ask for much. Just a little courage. A little willingness. A heart open enough to say yes—even when it hurts.”

Aeris couldn’t look at the other woman, her chest feeling heavy with doubt.

She felt…small. Like the ground had shifted beneath her, and nothing was solid anymore. The weight of everything—the visions, the whispers, the responsibility—pressed down on her. She wanted to believe what the woman said. Wanted to be enough. But she wasn’t sure she could.

“I know you’re afraid,” the woman assured her softly, as though sensing her worry. She placed a comforting hand on Aeris’ shoulder. “But you won’t have to be—not for much longer. Just let the Planet guide you. It will show you the way. All you need to do…is surrender.”

Aeris felt the weight building in her chest. The words were beautiful—but they filled her with foreboding.

She glanced down, her voice barely more than breath.

“But…what is it that the Planet wants me to do?”

The woman didn’t answer at once. She looked at Aeris with that same unwavering calm—tender, patient, almost mournful.

“I think you already know the answer.”

Then the light changed.

Subtle at first, then sharp. 

The strange horizon blurred. The swirling sky fractured. The threads of green light twisted inward, folding like petals closing around a flame. The ground beneath her feet gave way to brightness. Blinding. Absolute.

Aeris reached out instinctively—but there was nothing to hold onto.

And then—

She gasped.

Her eyes snapped open.

She was lying on her back. Breathing shallow, and skin damp with sweat. 

Her body trembled; muscles tense, like she’d just surfaced from deep underwater.

Cold metal brushed against her arm, and she glanced toward it. 

Bed railings, she discovered. She lay tucked underneath a thin white blanket.

She blinked up at a ceiling washed in yellowed fluorescent light, her vision struggling to focus. 

The sterile scent of disinfectant lingered in the air. Somewhere nearby, she heard people speaking in low voices…the scrape of a chair’s leg against the floor…muffled footsteps on concrete.

White curtains surrounded her, swaying faintly with movement she couldn’t see.

Aeris turned her head slightly, and her neck ached. Beyond the curtain’s edge, she caught the glimpse of a table with gauze, vials, and a folded blanket. 

A hospital, she thought. She didn’t recognize this place either.

But at least she knew, she had finally awakened.

And the weight she carried had come with her.

[rhoeysama]

Aerith close up

[rhoeysama]

Echoes of the Planet - Chapter 13

New chapter is up on AO3 finally!

Final Fantasy VII (Parallel Reality/AU. Written as a sequel to I Know What's Beneath the Snow Fields). Pair: Aerith(Aeris)/Vincent Words: 3402 (this chapter) Chapter 13 of (estimated) 30-35

If you like the story, please leave a kudos/like and/or reblog this post so more people can see it. Please also leave feedback, I'm delighted to read and respond to your comments! :)

Read on AO3

-------

Chapter 13: The Space Between

“Memories are fragile things. Twist them gently enough...and even the truth forgets what it was. And you—will follow the voice that sounds familiar…even if it leads you to the end.”

 ----------

A vast emptiness swallowed her whole.

She was sinking. Dragged down like a stone through black water, the weight pulling faster, deeper, into a place without light. A space that didn’t touch time. 

Around her, the cacophony of screams and cries rose. It was everywhere—pressing in and flooding her senses.

Desperate, she clamped her hands over her ears. But it didn’t help one bit.

The sound didn’t just ring in her head—it pierced her, sharp and relentless.

She felt their pain, their despair, not just in her mind, but in her skin, her chest, even in her bones. Like her very cells were screaming with them. She wanted so badly for it to cease.

“Please…” she choked, her voice barely a breath. “Just stop…”

Then suddenly, as if on cue, everything went still. 

Her feet struck something solid, jarring her to a halt. 

The noise vanished, swallowed by the dark. The silence was so sudden it felt like the world itself had inhaled—and hadn’t exhaled yet.

She stood there, frozen, heart hammering in the void.

She’d been here before. Wherever “this” was…it knew her.

Like the emptiness itself held memory. Like it was watching her.

Studying her.

Holding its breath. Waiting.

But…waiting for what?

A sound broke the stillness—the slow, deliberate echo of footsteps. Heavy. Measured. Drawing closer through the dark.

And from the darkness, a figure emerged—stepping through a veil of black smoke, his form coalescing with unnatural grace. There was no mistaking his long silver hair and those cold eyes—they fixed on her like a predator locking onto prey.

Sephiroth. 

There was no warmth in that gaze. Only the promise of death.

Aeris’ heart slammed against her ribs as he closed in on her. The air left her lungs in a single, panicked gasp, and for a moment she couldn’t move, dread locking her in place. Then instinct surged—and she turned to run. 

But before she could even turn, he was suddenly in front of her—and he didn't stop. Her breath caught, and she froze completely. 

And then…he passed through her. 

Right through her. 

His body swept through hers like smoke, like shadow, like he wasn’t really there at all. 

The sensation left a shudder in her bones—cold and nauseating. Her knees nearly gave out. 

She stumbled back, gasping, confused. And then she heard it: the sound of ragged breathing and wretched sobs. 

She turned around and saw Sephiroth walking towards a strange man crawling across the black ground, one leg dragging uselessly behind him. He whimpered through clenched teeth, trying desperately to escape. His face twisted in agony, streaked with sweat, ash and blood. 

Sephiroth advanced toward the man with detached purpose, slow and deliberate with each step. That same cold gaze never wavered. 

He behaved as though Aeris were invisible. She backed away, staring wide-eyed as the scene unfolded. 

They couldn’t see her, she realized. She wasn’t part of this scene.

This wasn’t happening. But rather…it had happened.

What she witnessed must have been a memory. 

“No!! PLEASE!” the miserable man begged, his voice cracking. “I DON’T WANT TO DIE!!!”

Sephiroth stopped right beside the man, looming over him like a dark specter of inevitability. His long blade caught the dim light, gleaming with an unnatural sheen.

“Don’t worry,” he said. His voice was low and unnervingly calm, as though reciting facts. “It’s not death. It’s a homecoming.”

Then the sword plunged downward.

The man’s scream cut off in an instant as the blade drove through his chest. A sickening gurgle escaped his lips, blood bubbling from his throat. Aeris gave a violent start. A strangled noise caught in her throat, and pressed her hands to her mouth as tears stung her eyes. She watched the light fade from his, his body going limp.

Within seconds, he was dead.

And suddenly, the scene shattered. 

It scattered in a sudden burst of green light, into a million luminous scintillas, like sand torn apart and blown into the wind. The fragments floated, suspended, weightless around her.

Then, all around her, at varying distances in the void, more scenes ignited—phantom echoes of slaughter.

In each, Sephiroth appeared again and again, executing his victims in different, brutal ways. A mother shielding her child. A soldier dropping his weapon in surrender. A boy no older than twelve. A man protecting his village, being decapitated.

Each life ended by his hand. Each memory dissolved into luminous dust.

Then, slowly, the scattered green scintillas stirred. Drawn toward one another like particles caught in a current. They swirled inward, converging in a burst of bright green light. From that light, a shape emerged. Delicate and translucent, yet pulsing with energy. 

An hourglass.

As the glow faded, the hourglass remained, suspended in mid-air, slowly rotating. Aeris approached it in awe and bewilderment. She watched in wonder as pale sand trickled through its narrow neck, falling in a steady stream into the lower chamber, where it gathered in a soft heap.

Her fingers hovered near the glass. And when she reached out—just barely brushing the surface—she saw something peculiar in the sand. A single speck shimmered there, glinting with every hue of light, like a distant star. It was tiny, but unmistakable. It pulsed faintly, as if it were alive.

“This is…” she breathed, eyes wide.

She didn’t understand what she was seeing, but something about it filled her with dread. A sense of inevitability. Watching the slow, steady fall of the sand was like watching fate unfold, grain by grain.

Whatever this was, it wasn’t just a vision. It was a message. 

It was trying to tell her something.

The glowing grain inched closer to the narrow passage, caught in the flow. But as it approached, a fine crack spidered across the hourglass. Then another.

The pile of sand below darkened, as if ink were bleeding into it. The next few grains that fell turned black mid-air—and then to ash, before they even touched the surface.

A sudden shiver ran through her. Something was wrong—like a presence had slipped into the space without permission.

The hourglass flickered, and the darkness deepened.

Then came a voice out of nowhere—velvet-edged and cruelly calm:

“Memories are fragile things,” it said, soft and measured. “Twist them gently enough...and even the truth forgets what it was.”

Aeris tensed. She clenched her fists. Of course she knew that voice. She knew it well enough by now. It was etched into her memory.

It was him. “And you—will follow the voice that sounds familiar…even if it leads you to the end.”

And then, everything went black. 

Everything went still.

She didn’t know how long she had been out. Minutes…hours? Maybe longer. In this place, time didn’t seem to exist at all.

There came a sound from the emptiness. Like words—but muffled, as though spoken from behind a wall. She couldn’t make out what it was saying. It echoed faintly in the void. But it grew clearer, as if she were rising from underwater.

Aeris felt herself being pulled upward, toward a small warm light above.

“Hello?” 

The voice was soft and uncertain. 

“Hello??” It called again, more firmly.

Much to her bewilderment, it was her own voice, she realized.

But…her lips hadn’t moved. She hadn’t spoken.

She continued floating upward, and the light grew—soft and golden.

And with a gasp, she felt herself lifted out of the dark.

It took a moment before her eyes fluttered open. 

They stung from the brightness, and her head swam. At first, her vision was blurry, and she saw a light pour in from above. The world around her slowly took shape—golden light streaming through dust-specked air.

She had a vague sensation that something felt off—but she couldn’t name what exactly.

Had it all just been another dream?

“You’re awake.”

Startled out of her reverie, Aeris sat up suddenly—and went stiff.

A figure knelt just a short distance away, half-silhouetted by the golden light. 

When her vision focused, Aeris saw that it was a young woman. Pink dress, long brown hair in a braid, and a soft smile. The woman gazed down at her with gentle green eyes, with her hands folded in front of her, like she’d been waiting. 

Aeris forgot to breathe when she saw her. She blinked, dazed, staring at the woman in front of her, mouth agape. She dared not move. Her fingers grasped at the ground beneath her, unsure if she should speak. 

This wasn’t possible. 

It couldn’t be. 

The woman merely smiled, tilting her head slightly in an effortlessly warm way that made Aeris feel like she could see right through her—past all the walls, straight into her heart. 

“So, we finally meet,” she said evenly, as though she’d been waiting a long time.

Aeris couldn’t stop staring at her, refusing to believe her eyes. It was like looking in a mirror—and finding her own face reflected on someone else. Her pulse pounded in her ears. Her voice had cruelly been stolen from her as well. She tried to speak, but no coherent words wanted to come.

“A…Aeris?” she managed to croak, barely above a whisper.

The woman only smiled and inclined her head in a wordless confirmation.

Aeris looked around her serene surroundings. Light poured through tall colorful glass windows and the broken ceiling high above her. She discovered that she sat in a bed of fragrant white and yellow lilies. 

She knew this place. The Sector 5 church. But not as she remembered it. Something was different. It felt too still. As if it was suspended in time.

“I…I don’t understand,” she stammered, looking down at her hands, then at the woman in front of her. “...Am I dreaming?” 

Her heart sank when a dreadful thought occurred to her. “Or am I…dead?”

“You’re not dead,” Aeris assured her softly. 

There was a quiet grace to her voice. But something about it lingered just a second too long.

“Then…where exactly…am I?”

The woman smiled enigmatically and looked up to where the light streamed in through the broken ceiling. “You’re in the space between.”

“The…‘space between’?” Aeris echoed, frowning.

The woman nodded and moved closer.

“Where memory, feeling, and purpose all meet,” she said, her voice as calm as a prayer. “It’s not a place you can walk to. But you arrived. Because you were meant to.”

Aeris furrowed her brow; she couldn’t make sense of her cryptic meaning. It only left her more confused. She watched the woman in front of her, uncertainty flickering in her chest. As if her mind couldn’t quite trust what it was experiencing.

She looked almost exactly as Aeris had imagined her—like a memory brought to life. A ghost made flesh.

And yet, something inside her twisted. She couldn’t shake the unsettling sense that this place wasn’t safe, though she wasn’t sure why.

“I know your story,” the woman said, a sad smile just touching her lips.

Aeris flinched — just barely — but the words pierced deeper than she expected. She gave a small, uncertain smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes. Her voice trembled with something unspoken—hope, or maybe fear.

The woman's gaze was gentle and held a quiet understanding as she nodded. “I know. You wonder if you’re real—if you even count. If you’re just…someone else’s shadow.”

Aeris’ breath caught. Her use of the words ‘real’ and ‘shadow’...it was almost like she could peer straight into her soul and read her like an open book—dragging out thoughts she’d only dared to share with one person... 

“I can’t imagine how hard it must be for you,” the other woman sympathized gently. “To have no past. No real home. Not even parents. Just a life that started in a glass tube.”

She moved a step closer. Her eyes shimmered with sorrow, and she placed a hand on Aeris’ shoulder.

“To have been made, not born. Created as a tool for someone else’s purpose…not even asked what you wanted to be.”

A knot rose in Aeris’ chest. Her lip quivered. She looked away, unable to meet the woman’s eyes.

“I have so many questions,” Aeris whispered. “Can you help me understand?”

The woman regarded her for a moment, then slowly rose to her feet. She reached out her hand.

“Come with me,” she said. “There’s something I want you to see.”

Aeris took her hand, and the woman helped her to her feet. Together, they walked through the stillness of the church. 

When they reached the great doors, they creaked open with a soft groan.

Nothing could have prepared Aeris for what greeted her. 

Outside weren't the ruins of the slums. It wasn’t Midgar at all. 

The sky above them stretched too wide — as though the heavens had been torn open. Jagged streaks of green Lifestream spilled like veins through the firmament, threading in unnatural patterns. Far in the distance, the horizon bled outward in impossible ways — curving into itself, bending at angles that defied logic. Floating shards of land spun in slow spirals, flickering like scenes from another life; like dreams on the edge of forgetting. Cities blinked into being — and vanished again. 

Nothing was fixed. All of it breathed. All of it was in flux.

The ground shimmered like solid water, stretching out toward a horizon that refused to stay still.

Aeris stopped in her tracks.

“What…what is this?”

The woman beside her didn’t flinch. Her voice was soft. Reverent.

“This is where the threads meet. The place where realities converge — and unravel.”

Aeris turned to her, but the other woman was already gazing up at the broken sky.

“‘The threads’?” Aeris echoed. “...‘Unravel’?”

She glanced skyward again. Threads of Lifestream curled through the stars like rivers of light, weaving a vast tapestry across the heavens.

A tapestry of realities—shifting, flickering, blinking in and out of existence like dying dreams. Everything shimmered in hues of opalescent light.

Words surfaced, unbidden—returning to her like a whisper from somewhere far away.

“‘The thread unravels’…” she murmured, tracing the green currents above. “‘One cut, and all is undone. From one, many…from many, none.’”

“What?”

Aeris shook her head. “It’s…something I heard in a dream,” she said quietly, more to herself. “Was the Planet…trying to warn me? About this?” 

She turned toward the woman. “Why?”

The woman’s expression softened. “To help you understand what’s at stake,” she said gently. “And what’s still to come.”

Aeris processed her words. 

“Is this…” Her voice caught. She hesitated, then forced the rest out. “Is all of this…because of him? Sephiroth?”

The woman glanced askance at her, but didn’t answer. Instead, she looked out at the horizon with weary understanding.

“He’s reaching for something no being was meant to touch. He isn’t just trying to conquer the world…he’s trying to become it.”

The words lodged deep in Aeris’ chest. She stared in horror, her pulse quickening. 

“So…he’s really not gone?” Her voice quivered. “But how? Cloud, Tifa, and the others—they defeated him. How is he still—?”

The woman raised a hand, stopping her gently. “It’s not that simple.”

Aeris fell quiet. The words lingered in the air like vapor.

“He exists in memory…” the woman continued, “and memory feeds reality.”

“What are you saying?” Aeris asked. Her heart pounded.

“He was never only human. That part is gone…but the rest? That’s harder to bury.” 

Aeris’ limbs quaked with a quiet dread she couldn’t suppress. The very thought that something like him could still linger—bodiless, shapeless—sent a cold ripple through her spine.

“And if he reaches his goal,” the woman continued, “he’ll transcend time and reality—exist everywhere, always. He’ll merge with the Lifestream — not just as memory, but permanence. Eternity. The Planet won’t be able to resist him. Nothing will.” A flicker of something unreadable crossed her face, and her voice dropped to a whisper. “He will never be just a memory.”

“And you…” the woman paused, eyes resting on Aeris. “You’re part of why the Planet is still resisting.”

Aeris drew back a step. “Me?”

The woman gave a slow, solemn nod. “Your existence defies what was written. That means something.”

A hollow ache rose in Aeris’ chest.

“What are you trying to tell me?” she asked, forcing herself to meet the other woman’s gaze.

The woman met her eyes with a calm, almost tender expression. “That sometimes, the Planet asks one soul to carry what others can’t.”

Aeris didn’t know if the words steadied her or hollowed her out further. She had already borne so much. Could there really be more?

“Maybe you exist for a bigger purpose,” the woman went on. “Maybe you were made to be something more.”

A long silence settled between them—but Aeris didn’t step away.

Then the woman spoke again, her voice low, steeped in quiet gravity. “The Planet is crying out. It needs someone to listen. Someone who can reach its heart.” Aeris looked away. She remembered the last time she stood between someone she loved and the edge of death. How much it hurt. How close she came to losing everything. 

And now, beside her, stood the woman who had once done the same—only braver. The real Cetra. The one who could hear the Planet clearly, who belonged to a people, a lineage. Whose courage had cost her everything.

Aeris had none of that. No ancestors. No deep connection to some ancient past. Just what she was made to be—and the shadow of someone else’s sacrifice.

“I don’t know if I can do that,” she murmured. “I’m not strong enough.”

The woman stepped behind her, voice close now. Low and comforting. “Real strength is standing up when no one else can—when it matters most.”

Those words made Aeris’ body stiffen.

“True love,” she said, resting a hand lightly on Aeris’ shoulder, “means putting others before yourself.” Her voice was soft. Reverential. Almost proud. “The Planet doesn’t ask for much. Just a little courage. A little willingness. A heart open enough to say yes—even when it hurts.”

Aeris couldn’t look at the other woman, her chest feeling heavy with doubt.

She felt…small. Like the ground had shifted beneath her, and nothing was solid anymore. The weight of everything—the visions, the whispers, the responsibility—pressed down on her. She wanted to believe what the woman said. Wanted to be enough. But she wasn’t sure she could.

“I know you’re afraid,” the woman assured her softly, as though sensing her worry. She placed a comforting hand on Aeris’ shoulder. “But you won’t have to be—not for much longer. Just let the Planet guide you. It will show you the way. All you need to do…is surrender.”

Aeris felt the weight building in her chest. The words were beautiful—but they filled her with foreboding.

She glanced down, her voice barely more than breath.

“But…what is it that the Planet wants me to do?”

The woman didn’t answer at once. She looked at Aeris with that same unwavering calm—tender, patient, almost mournful.

“I think you already know the answer.”

Then the light changed.

Subtle at first, then sharp. 

The strange horizon blurred. The swirling sky fractured. The threads of green light twisted inward, folding like petals closing around a flame. The ground beneath her feet gave way to brightness. Blinding. Absolute.

Aeris reached out instinctively—but there was nothing to hold onto.

And then—

She gasped.

Her eyes snapped open.

She was lying on her back. Breathing shallow, and skin damp with sweat. 

Her body trembled; muscles tense, like she’d just surfaced from deep underwater.

Cold metal brushed against her arm, and she glanced toward it. 

Bed railings, she discovered. She lay tucked underneath a thin white blanket.

She blinked up at a ceiling washed in yellowed fluorescent light, her vision struggling to focus. 

The sterile scent of disinfectant lingered in the air. Somewhere nearby, she heard people speaking in low voices…the scrape of a chair’s leg against the floor…muffled footsteps on concrete.

White curtains surrounded her, swaying faintly with movement she couldn’t see.

Aeris turned her head slightly, and her neck ached. Beyond the curtain’s edge, she caught the glimpse of a table with gauze, vials, and a folded blanket. 

A hospital, she thought. She didn’t recognize this place either.

But at least she knew, she had finally awakened.

And the weight she carried had come with her.

[rhoeysama]

[rhoeysama]

Vincent approves of this message

play scheibe by lady gaga

[rhoeysama]

Echoes of the Planet - Chapter 13

New chapter is up on AO3 finally!

Final Fantasy VII (Parallel Reality/AU. Written as a sequel to I Know What's Beneath the Snow Fields). Pair: Aerith(Aeris)/Vincent Words: 3402 (this chapter) Chapter 13 of (estimated) 30-35

If you like the story, please leave a kudos/like and/or reblog this post so more people can see it. Please also leave feedback, I'm delighted to read and respond to your comments! :)

Read on AO3

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Chapter 13: The Space Between

“Memories are fragile things. Twist them gently enough...and even the truth forgets what it was. And you—will follow the voice that sounds familiar…even if it leads you to the end.”

 ----------

A vast emptiness swallowed her whole.

She was sinking. Dragged down like a stone through black water, the weight pulling faster, deeper, into a place without light. A space that didn’t touch time. 

Around her, the cacophony of screams and cries rose. It was everywhere—pressing in and flooding her senses.

Desperate, she clamped her hands over her ears. But it didn’t help one bit.

The sound didn’t just ring in her head—it pierced her, sharp and relentless.

She felt their pain, their despair, not just in her mind, but in her skin, her chest, even in her bones. Like her very cells were screaming with them. She wanted so badly for it to cease.

“Please…” she choked, her voice barely a breath. “Just stop…”

Then suddenly, as if on cue, everything went still. 

Her feet struck something solid, jarring her to a halt. 

The noise vanished, swallowed by the dark. The silence was so sudden it felt like the world itself had inhaled—and hadn’t exhaled yet.

She stood there, frozen, heart hammering in the void.

She’d been here before. Wherever “this” was…it knew her.

Like the emptiness itself held memory. Like it was watching her.

Studying her.

Holding its breath. Waiting.

But…waiting for what?

A sound broke the stillness—the slow, deliberate echo of footsteps. Heavy. Measured. Drawing closer through the dark.

And from the darkness, a figure emerged—stepping through a veil of black smoke, his form coalescing with unnatural grace. There was no mistaking his long silver hair and those cold eyes—they fixed on her like a predator locking onto prey.

Sephiroth. 

There was no warmth in that gaze. Only the promise of death.

Aeris’ heart slammed against her ribs as he closed in on her. The air left her lungs in a single, panicked gasp, and for a moment she couldn’t move, dread locking her in place. Then instinct surged—and she turned to run. 

But before she could even turn, he was suddenly in front of her—and he didn't stop. Her breath caught, and she froze completely. 

And then…he passed through her. 

Right through her. 

His body swept through hers like smoke, like shadow, like he wasn’t really there at all. 

The sensation left a shudder in her bones—cold and nauseating. Her knees nearly gave out. 

She stumbled back, gasping, confused. And then she heard it: the sound of ragged breathing and wretched sobs. 

She turned around and saw Sephiroth walking towards a strange man crawling across the black ground, one leg dragging uselessly behind him. He whimpered through clenched teeth, trying desperately to escape. His face twisted in agony, streaked with sweat, ash and blood. 

Sephiroth advanced toward the man with detached purpose, slow and deliberate with each step. That same cold gaze never wavered. 

He behaved as though Aeris were invisible. She backed away, staring wide-eyed as the scene unfolded. 

They couldn’t see her, she realized. She wasn’t part of this scene.

This wasn’t happening. But rather…it had happened.

What she witnessed must have been a memory. 

“No!! PLEASE!” the miserable man begged, his voice cracking. “I DON’T WANT TO DIE!!!”

Sephiroth stopped right beside the man, looming over him like a dark specter of inevitability. His long blade caught the dim light, gleaming with an unnatural sheen.

“Don’t worry,” he said. His voice was low and unnervingly calm, as though reciting facts. “It’s not death. It’s a homecoming.”

Then the sword plunged downward.

The man’s scream cut off in an instant as the blade drove through his chest. A sickening gurgle escaped his lips, blood bubbling from his throat. Aeris gave a violent start. A strangled noise caught in her throat, and pressed her hands to her mouth as tears stung her eyes. She watched the light fade from his, his body going limp.

Within seconds, he was dead.

And suddenly, the scene shattered. 

It scattered in a sudden burst of green light, into a million luminous scintillas, like sand torn apart and blown into the wind. The fragments floated, suspended, weightless around her.

Then, all around her, at varying distances in the void, more scenes ignited—phantom echoes of slaughter.

In each, Sephiroth appeared again and again, executing his victims in different, brutal ways. A mother shielding her child. A soldier dropping his weapon in surrender. A boy no older than twelve. A man protecting his village, being decapitated.

Each life ended by his hand. Each memory dissolved into luminous dust.

Then, slowly, the scattered green scintillas stirred. Drawn toward one another like particles caught in a current. They swirled inward, converging in a burst of bright green light. From that light, a shape emerged. Delicate and translucent, yet pulsing with energy. 

An hourglass.

As the glow faded, the hourglass remained, suspended in mid-air, slowly rotating. Aeris approached it in awe and bewilderment. She watched in wonder as pale sand trickled through its narrow neck, falling in a steady stream into the lower chamber, where it gathered in a soft heap.

Her fingers hovered near the glass. And when she reached out—just barely brushing the surface—she saw something peculiar in the sand. A single speck shimmered there, glinting with every hue of light, like a distant star. It was tiny, but unmistakable. It pulsed faintly, as if it were alive.

“This is…” she breathed, eyes wide.

She didn’t understand what she was seeing, but something about it filled her with dread. A sense of inevitability. Watching the slow, steady fall of the sand was like watching fate unfold, grain by grain.

Whatever this was, it wasn’t just a vision. It was a message. 

It was trying to tell her something.

The glowing grain inched closer to the narrow passage, caught in the flow. But as it approached, a fine crack spidered across the hourglass. Then another.

The pile of sand below darkened, as if ink were bleeding into it. The next few grains that fell turned black mid-air—and then to ash, before they even touched the surface.

A sudden shiver ran through her. Something was wrong—like a presence had slipped into the space without permission.

The hourglass flickered, and the darkness deepened.

Then came a voice out of nowhere—velvet-edged and cruelly calm:

“Memories are fragile things,” it said, soft and measured. “Twist them gently enough...and even the truth forgets what it was.”

Aeris tensed. She clenched her fists. Of course she knew that voice. She knew it well enough by now. It was etched into her memory.

It was him. “And you—will follow the voice that sounds familiar…even if it leads you to the end.”

And then, everything went black. 

Everything went still.

She didn’t know how long she had been out. Minutes…hours? Maybe longer. In this place, time didn’t seem to exist at all.

There came a sound from the emptiness. Like words—but muffled, as though spoken from behind a wall. She couldn’t make out what it was saying. It echoed faintly in the void. But it grew clearer, as if she were rising from underwater.

Aeris felt herself being pulled upward, toward a small warm light above.

“Hello?” 

The voice was soft and uncertain. 

“Hello??” It called again, more firmly.

Much to her bewilderment, it was her own voice, she realized.

But…her lips hadn’t moved. She hadn’t spoken.

She continued floating upward, and the light grew—soft and golden.

And with a gasp, she felt herself lifted out of the dark.

It took a moment before her eyes fluttered open. 

They stung from the brightness, and her head swam. At first, her vision was blurry, and she saw a light pour in from above. The world around her slowly took shape—golden light streaming through dust-specked air.

She had a vague sensation that something felt off—but she couldn’t name what exactly.

Had it all just been another dream?

“You’re awake.”

Startled out of her reverie, Aeris sat up suddenly—and went stiff.

A figure knelt just a short distance away, half-silhouetted by the golden light. 

When her vision focused, Aeris saw that it was a young woman. Pink dress, long brown hair in a braid, and a soft smile. The woman gazed down at her with gentle green eyes, with her hands folded in front of her, like she’d been waiting. 

Aeris forgot to breathe when she saw her. She blinked, dazed, staring at the woman in front of her, mouth agape. She dared not move. Her fingers grasped at the ground beneath her, unsure if she should speak. 

This wasn’t possible. 

It couldn’t be. 

The woman merely smiled, tilting her head slightly in an effortlessly warm way that made Aeris feel like she could see right through her—past all the walls, straight into her heart. 

“So, we finally meet,” she said evenly, as though she’d been waiting a long time.

Aeris couldn’t stop staring at her, refusing to believe her eyes. It was like looking in a mirror—and finding her own face reflected on someone else. Her pulse pounded in her ears. Her voice had cruelly been stolen from her as well. She tried to speak, but no coherent words wanted to come.

“A…Aeris?” she managed to croak, barely above a whisper.

The woman only smiled and inclined her head in a wordless confirmation.

Aeris looked around her serene surroundings. Light poured through tall colorful glass windows and the broken ceiling high above her. She discovered that she sat in a bed of fragrant white and yellow lilies. 

She knew this place. The Sector 5 church. But not as she remembered it. Something was different. It felt too still. As if it was suspended in time.

“I…I don’t understand,” she stammered, looking down at her hands, then at the woman in front of her. “...Am I dreaming?” 

Her heart sank when a dreadful thought occurred to her. “Or am I…dead?”

“You’re not dead,” Aeris assured her softly. 

There was a quiet grace to her voice. But something about it lingered just a second too long.

“Then…where exactly…am I?”

The woman smiled enigmatically and looked up to where the light streamed in through the broken ceiling. “You’re in the space between.”

“The…‘space between’?” Aeris echoed, frowning.

The woman nodded and moved closer.

“Where memory, feeling, and purpose all meet,” she said, her voice as calm as a prayer. “It’s not a place you can walk to. But you arrived. Because you were meant to.”

Aeris furrowed her brow; she couldn’t make sense of her cryptic meaning. It only left her more confused. She watched the woman in front of her, uncertainty flickering in her chest. As if her mind couldn’t quite trust what it was experiencing.

She looked almost exactly as Aeris had imagined her—like a memory brought to life. A ghost made flesh.

And yet, something inside her twisted. She couldn’t shake the unsettling sense that this place wasn’t safe, though she wasn’t sure why.

“I know your story,” the woman said, a sad smile just touching her lips.

Aeris flinched — just barely — but the words pierced deeper than she expected. She gave a small, uncertain smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes. Her voice trembled with something unspoken—hope, or maybe fear.

The woman's gaze was gentle and held a quiet understanding as she nodded. “I know. You wonder if you’re real—if you even count. If you’re just…someone else’s shadow.”

Aeris’ breath caught. Her use of the words ‘real’ and ‘shadow’...it was almost like she could peer straight into her soul and read her like an open book—dragging out thoughts she’d only dared to share with one person... 

“I can’t imagine how hard it must be for you,” the other woman sympathized gently. “To have no past. No real home. Not even parents. Just a life that started in a glass tube.”

She moved a step closer. Her eyes shimmered with sorrow, and she placed a hand on Aeris’ shoulder.

“To have been made, not born. Created as a tool for someone else’s purpose…not even asked what you wanted to be.”

A knot rose in Aeris’ chest. Her lip quivered. She looked away, unable to meet the woman’s eyes.

“I have so many questions,” Aeris whispered. “Can you help me understand?”

The woman regarded her for a moment, then slowly rose to her feet. She reached out her hand.

“Come with me,” she said. “There’s something I want you to see.”

Aeris took her hand, and the woman helped her to her feet. Together, they walked through the stillness of the church. 

When they reached the great doors, they creaked open with a soft groan.

Nothing could have prepared Aeris for what greeted her. 

Outside weren't the ruins of the slums. It wasn’t Midgar at all. 

The sky above them stretched too wide — as though the heavens had been torn open. Jagged streaks of green Lifestream spilled like veins through the firmament, threading in unnatural patterns. Far in the distance, the horizon bled outward in impossible ways — curving into itself, bending at angles that defied logic. Floating shards of land spun in slow spirals, flickering like scenes from another life; like dreams on the edge of forgetting. Cities blinked into being — and vanished again. 

Nothing was fixed. All of it breathed. All of it was in flux.

The ground shimmered like solid water, stretching out toward a horizon that refused to stay still.

Aeris stopped in her tracks.

“What…what is this?”

The woman beside her didn’t flinch. Her voice was soft. Reverent.

“This is where the threads meet. The place where realities converge — and unravel.”

Aeris turned to her, but the other woman was already gazing up at the broken sky.

“‘The threads’?” Aeris echoed. “...‘Unravel’?”

She glanced skyward again. Threads of Lifestream curled through the stars like rivers of light, weaving a vast tapestry across the heavens.

A tapestry of realities—shifting, flickering, blinking in and out of existence like dying dreams. Everything shimmered in hues of opalescent light.

Words surfaced, unbidden—returning to her like a whisper from somewhere far away.

“‘The thread unravels’…” she murmured, tracing the green currents above. “‘One cut, and all is undone. From one, many…from many, none.’”

“What?”

Aeris shook her head. “It’s…something I heard in a dream,” she said quietly, more to herself. “Was the Planet…trying to warn me? About this?” 

She turned toward the woman. “Why?”

The woman’s expression softened. “To help you understand what’s at stake,” she said gently. “And what’s still to come.”

Aeris processed her words. 

“Is this…” Her voice caught. She hesitated, then forced the rest out. “Is all of this…because of him? Sephiroth?”

The woman glanced askance at her, but didn’t answer. Instead, she looked out at the horizon with weary understanding.

“He’s reaching for something no being was meant to touch. He isn’t just trying to conquer the world…he’s trying to become it.”

The words lodged deep in Aeris’ chest. She stared in horror, her pulse quickening. 

“So…he’s really not gone?” Her voice quivered. “But how? Cloud, Tifa, and the others—they defeated him. How is he still—?”

The woman raised a hand, stopping her gently. “It’s not that simple.”

Aeris fell quiet. The words lingered in the air like vapor.

“He exists in memory…” the woman continued, “and memory feeds reality.”

“What are you saying?” Aeris asked. Her heart pounded.

“He was never only human. That part is gone…but the rest? That’s harder to bury.” 

Aeris’ limbs quaked with a quiet dread she couldn’t suppress. The very thought that something like him could still linger—bodiless, shapeless—sent a cold ripple through her spine.

“And if he reaches his goal,” the woman continued, “he’ll transcend time and reality—exist everywhere, always. He’ll merge with the Lifestream — not just as memory, but permanence. Eternity. The Planet won’t be able to resist him. Nothing will.” A flicker of something unreadable crossed her face, and her voice dropped to a whisper. “He will never be just a memory.”

“And you…” the woman paused, eyes resting on Aeris. “You’re part of why the Planet is still resisting.”

Aeris drew back a step. “Me?”

The woman gave a slow, solemn nod. “Your existence defies what was written. That means something.”

A hollow ache rose in Aeris’ chest.

“What are you trying to tell me?” she asked, forcing herself to meet the other woman’s gaze.

The woman met her eyes with a calm, almost tender expression. “That sometimes, the Planet asks one soul to carry what others can’t.”

Aeris didn’t know if the words steadied her or hollowed her out further. She had already borne so much. Could there really be more?

“Maybe you exist for a bigger purpose,” the woman went on. “Maybe you were made to be something more.”

A long silence settled between them—but Aeris didn’t step away.

Then the woman spoke again, her voice low, steeped in quiet gravity. “The Planet is crying out. It needs someone to listen. Someone who can reach its heart.” Aeris looked away. She remembered the last time she stood between someone she loved and the edge of death. How much it hurt. How close she came to losing everything. 

And now, beside her, stood the woman who had once done the same—only braver. The real Cetra. The one who could hear the Planet clearly, who belonged to a people, a lineage. Whose courage had cost her everything.

Aeris had none of that. No ancestors. No deep connection to some ancient past. Just what she was made to be—and the shadow of someone else’s sacrifice.

“I don’t know if I can do that,” she murmured. “I’m not strong enough.”

The woman stepped behind her, voice close now. Low and comforting. “Real strength is standing up when no one else can—when it matters most.”

Those words made Aeris’ body stiffen.

“True love,” she said, resting a hand lightly on Aeris’ shoulder, “means putting others before yourself.” Her voice was soft. Reverential. Almost proud. “The Planet doesn’t ask for much. Just a little courage. A little willingness. A heart open enough to say yes—even when it hurts.”

Aeris couldn’t look at the other woman, her chest feeling heavy with doubt.

She felt…small. Like the ground had shifted beneath her, and nothing was solid anymore. The weight of everything—the visions, the whispers, the responsibility—pressed down on her. She wanted to believe what the woman said. Wanted to be enough. But she wasn’t sure she could.

“I know you’re afraid,” the woman assured her softly, as though sensing her worry. She placed a comforting hand on Aeris’ shoulder. “But you won’t have to be—not for much longer. Just let the Planet guide you. It will show you the way. All you need to do…is surrender.”

Aeris felt the weight building in her chest. The words were beautiful—but they filled her with foreboding.

She glanced down, her voice barely more than breath.

“But…what is it that the Planet wants me to do?”

The woman didn’t answer at once. She looked at Aeris with that same unwavering calm—tender, patient, almost mournful.

“I think you already know the answer.”

Then the light changed.

Subtle at first, then sharp. 

The strange horizon blurred. The swirling sky fractured. The threads of green light twisted inward, folding like petals closing around a flame. The ground beneath her feet gave way to brightness. Blinding. Absolute.

Aeris reached out instinctively—but there was nothing to hold onto.

And then—

She gasped.

Her eyes snapped open.

She was lying on her back. Breathing shallow, and skin damp with sweat. 

Her body trembled; muscles tense, like she’d just surfaced from deep underwater.

Cold metal brushed against her arm, and she glanced toward it. 

Bed railings, she discovered. She lay tucked underneath a thin white blanket.

She blinked up at a ceiling washed in yellowed fluorescent light, her vision struggling to focus. 

The sterile scent of disinfectant lingered in the air. Somewhere nearby, she heard people speaking in low voices…the scrape of a chair’s leg against the floor…muffled footsteps on concrete.

White curtains surrounded her, swaying faintly with movement she couldn’t see.

Aeris turned her head slightly, and her neck ached. Beyond the curtain’s edge, she caught the glimpse of a table with gauze, vials, and a folded blanket. 

A hospital, she thought. She didn’t recognize this place either.

But at least she knew, she had finally awakened.

And the weight she carried had come with her.

[rhoeysama]

23 Tiny Wishes, 89 Letters to the Sky. 💌🌸