#(actually no don't all of these characters are fucking wonderful i don't need to fite you)

[wombadoodles]

Final Fantasy 6 fic: “Year of Ruin”

this was just gonna be a little drabble, exploring what was going on with my favorite character during the year-long timeskip.

i... got a little carried away. :’D

under a readmore because this thing is over 9200 words long

The world was ending.

Despite everything they'd done, all they'd tried, the world was ending.

Magically paralyzed, the trio of heroes were unable to do a thing as Kefka set off a chain of events that could not be reversed.

Emperor Gestahl was dead at the hands of his mad henchman. The Warring Triad were out of alignment, and their rampant magic filled the air. Locke struggled vainly to move, watching as Celes began to lose her grip on the cliff edge. Terra squeezed her eyes shut, trying to block out the horrors that surrounded them. Edgar just glared helplessly at Kefka, the madman gleefully cackling and prancing about in front of the sparking statues.

It was the end. They'd failed. And they couldn't do a thing about it.

Sudden movement. The three jerked their heads up in surprise when a black-shrouded figure landed gracefully in front of them, carefully setting a rescued Celes down before flinging himself at the closest statue. With all his weight, he shoved the statue straight into Kefka, pinning him between two of the very creatures he now drew power from.

The magic that bound the heroes was suddenly dispelled. Locke sprang to his feet and rushed to Celes's side, while Edgar gingerly helped Terra up. All four turned to Shadow.

"Go!" called the assassin over Kefka's furious howls. "Don't worry about me!"

Locke started forward. "But--"

There was a bright flash and a burst of power, and the four of them were thrown back, tumbling from the hill the statues occupied. Shadow's voice followed them, audibly straining as he kept Kefka pinned. "Forget about me! Run! It's impossible to stop this now-- I'll find my way!"

There was no room to debate. The ground rumbled ominously, and cracks formed at their feet. Kefka roared shrilly after them, declaring that they couldn't escape him.

The Floating Continent was crumbling. Multiple times, the group had to help one another up after the path started to fall away. Edgar nearly fell, but Locke caught him in time and hauled him up, and they were off running again.

"The airship--" gasped Edgar. "It's just ahead!"

"But Shadow..." Terra slowed, looking back. "We can't leave him."

"We don't have much time," Locke said. "This place is splitting apart at the seams!"

The four stared off the way they'd come, but the view was obscured by flying dust and debris as more sections of the floating island fell. Celes peered over the edge at the world below, and gasped. Explosions and fissures crisscrossed the land like spiderwebs. It looked less like a landmass and more like a roiling, burning sea. "All the people down there..."

"Shadow!" Terra ran forward a few steps as she spotted the fatigued assassin. "Hurry!"

He chuckled darkly, catching up to the group with some effort. "I can't go and die before collecting my pay."

Without another word, the five of them leapt to the airship below. Setzer was at the controls and struggling to hold it steady, caught in the turbulence of the violently shifting world. He pulled away from the crumbling continent as soon as everyone was aboard.

"Is there really no way to stop this?"

It was impossible to tell who had shouted it in the chaos.

There was no time for an answer. With an earth-shattering crack, the deck of the airship warped and snapped apart. The craft broke into two pieces, its buoyant air balloon tore, and they began to plummet. Everyone struggled to hang on, but it didn't take long for every one of them to be ripped away from their friends, tossed helplessly in the howling wind, and fall toward the crashing sea below.

Consciousness returned in fits and starts. It mostly felt like a surreal, painful dream. Edgar was faintly aware of lying on a coarsely sandy shore. Not at all like the silky desert sand of Figaro...

His next bout of consciousness saw him lying in a bed in a darkened room. Despite heavy blankets, he felt cold...

He thought he saw a woman's face behind a bowl of soup. It tasted good. The face wasn't familiar. Where was everyone...

He wasn't sure how much time had passed. He opened his eyes, finally feeling properly lucid for the first time in what felt like an eternity. He felt weak and clammy, and shivered from chills even as his skin burned like a furnace. He hurt all over. It hurt to breathe.

He shifted, and his whole body erupted with a powerful, dull ache on top of everything else. He groaned, letting himself fall limp against the sheets once again.

What had happened...? The last thing he recalled...

...

The Triad. Kefka. The world dying...

The airship...

Everyone...

Where was everyone else? Locke... Sabin... Terra... He tried to remember anything at all from after the airship split, but it was all a panicked blur. They'd probably all landed in the sea, and after that...

He shuddered. He could feel thick bandages all over his body; he was certainly lucky to be alive at all. He didn't want to think about the worst case. By some luck he'd washed safely ashore... surely the currents would favor them if they'd all landed close together.

But then... He shook his head. There was far too much to think about. Too much. His head hurt so much. He squeezed his eyes more tightly shut, hissing through his teeth.

Sounds reached him as someone moved about in an adjacent room. Edgar again tried to sit up, but an oppressive wave of dizziness joined the pain in keeping him immobile. He groaned again, giving up.

The door opened, and someone bustled in. "Oh dear, oh dear," tutted an older woman's voice. "Hold still, dear, your fever hasn't even gone down yet." As she spoke she pressed a cool hand against Edgar's forehead.

He turned his head toward her and tried to find his voice. "Wh...ere..."

"Shh, now." She moved away for a moment, then returned to place a cool, damp rag on his forehead. "I'm not sure there is much of a 'where' any more, I'm afraid. It was two weeks ago now... the whole world..." The woman trailed off, her voice catching in her throat. "If... If it helps, we're near what remains of Tzen."

Edgar stared at the ceiling, too stunned for words. He wasn't sure what part was worst. He let out a long, pained sigh. "The world..." he whispered. They'd failed. They'd failed the whole world. He felt like someone had placed a heavy, heavy weight on his chest, on top of the thick blankets. He again shifted his gaze to the woman. "...Two--" His voice caught and he started coughing. Pain lanced through his ribs, turning the coughing into a strangled cry. He caught his breath after a long, agonizing moment, tears streaking down his cheeks. The woman reappeared at his side with a glass of water and gently helped him sit up enough to reach it. He drank gratefully and tried again. "Two weeks...?"

She nodded sadly. "I found you washed up on the beach not long after the earthquakes stopped. You were in such terrible shape... and before long were running a fever. It's truly lucky this inn survived somehow."

"My... friends..." He hardly dared hope.

"I'm sorry, dear. It was just you."

He closed his eyes and tried to keep calm. That didn't necessarily mean anything. They hadn't washed up here. That was all. Surely they'd be okay. He didn't think he could take it if he allowed himself to believe otherwise.

One other thing on his mind. He spoke without even realizing it. "Figaro..."

The woman had no help to offer. She gave him a sad, sympathetic smile and told him to rest.

He should have thanked her for her kindness, maybe tried a line or two. But he didn't have the spirit for it. In one fell swoop, he'd lost everything. He could barely even move.

Despair settled over him like another blanket. Failure. Everything they'd worked for had ended in failure. What was the point of trying to recover if everyone else was gone? The world a wreck? He didn't even know where his kingdom was relative to Tzen after the upheaval.

There was just no point any more...

Edgar woke reluctantly. He still hurt all over, but it wasn't quite so bad. He didn't try to get out of bed this time, though. Where would he go?

His long hair clung uncomfortably to his clammy skin, and he realized he must've lost his hair ribbons at some point during the ordeal. Just another frustration to add to the list. Annoying as it was, he found he couldn't bring himself to care enough to do anything about it.

The innkeeper appeared, bearing food and drink. Edgar numbly accepted her hospitality, then let himself slip back into a hopeless sleep.

So it went for at least another two weeks. His health improved, but the progress was agonizingly slow. And boring. The innkeeper, Scarlet, had offered him books to read, but... everything felt pointless. Everything. He'd just stared blankly at the first page of one of the books for a long moment before snapping it shut, unable to muster the energy to actually read.

He was despondent. He didn't even care about getting better. With nothing better to do, he slept.

When he awoke, it was to hushed conversation in the next room. He lay still for a minute, eyes closed and listening. News from outside? Yes, a geographical update from the sound of it.

It... didn't sound good. There were more settlements still in existence than he'd expected, but the devastation was near absolute.

Exhausted and hopeless though he still felt, he had to know. Slowly, painfully, he pried himself up from the bed. His legs almost gave out when he tried to put weight on them, but he managed to catch himself on the bed.

He felt terrible.

He probably looked terrible, too. He noticed for the first time that several of the bandages covering his body were bloodstained. How was he even alive...?

His long blond hair fell messily around his shoulders as he staggered upright, only adding to his misery. He grumbled and brushed it behind his back as best he could before looking for his clothes.

He found them on a nearby table, apparently having been washed and repaired by the kindly innkeeper. He dressed as quickly as he could in his condition, then made his way to where he still heard quiet voices.

The conversation stopped when he appeared in the doorway. Scarlet was speaking with a ragged-looking stranger, the latter of whom had a roughly sketched map laid out on the table.

Scarlet immediately hurried toward Edgar, trying to shoo him back to bed. He shook his head, clutching the door frame to keep himself steady. He peered at the map, then flicked his eyes up to the stranger. "Figaro?"

The man crossed his arms. "Info don't come free."

"Even now?"

"Especially now."

Damn. Did he even have any money left on him? He couldn't quite remember what he'd been carrying when he'd... when they'd... Well, anyway. He instinctively felt for his belt, only to realize he'd left it in the other room.

A hand appeared next to his face. It held his belt, complete with all of his equipment and supplies. He glanced back, into the honest face of the innkeeper.

"I didn't touch a thing, dear."

"I... Thank you." He accepted it, found his gil pouch, and counted out what he felt was a fair amount.

The ruffian shrugged, accepted the coins, and pointed at the map. "Last I heard, the castle did that burrowing thing when the world started going to crap," he began.

Edgar suppressed a sigh of relief. Smart people. That should have protected them from the worst of it.

"Word is, though, the castle got stuck. 'Least, that's what people assume, since it hasn't come back up 'n' it's been nearly a month."

That was a lot less good. Edgar frowned thoughtfully at the map. It... looked really bad. It was a completely unfamiliar world that looked back up at him. "Where did you get this? How do you have something this thorough already?"

"There's money to be made in it," said the man. "Works for me. Sort of a group effort with other folks."

"Hm. Impressive." Well, regardless. He knew where the last known location of the castle was, at least. The gears in his head started turning.

And prompted a splitting headache. He flinched and wobbled slightly, clutching his head, then collapsed against the door frame. The effort of moving around so much after so long in bed was finally taking its toll. He felt the innkeeper catch him and help him back to the bed.

"Now then, if you're quite done making yourself worse," she chided, "you're still in no condition to go anywhere."

"Th-thanks," he gasped weakly. "For everything. Really." He dropped gratefully into the bed.

The woman's expression softened. "Helping people is in my blood, dear. After all that's happened, I think people need to stick together more than ever. The world the way it is now... we have to find our own purpose." She nodded to him and returned to the other room.

"What was that all about?"

"Poor dear's been in terrible shape since this whole mess started. Now, as you were saying..."

Conversation continued, and Edgar closed his eyes, trying to think through the haze of pain. Find our own purpose...

Figaro needed him. He was their king, and they were in trouble. He had to help them.

His attempts at thinking through the problem merely sparked another headache, and he was forced to let the matter rest for now. But he had purpose again. Something to work toward. Even if the other Returners were gone, even if the world was dying, even if Kefka had won, there was still somewhere he was needed. He didn't know how, yet, but he'd save Figaro.

Hope began to return. He gave up on trying calculations in his head and accepted a pencil and paper from the kindly innkeeper. She, too, seemed to have perked up since the stranger's visit. Rough though his manner had been, he'd brought news. There were still people, and settlements. Society could rebuild. It was a bad, bad situation, but they seemed less isolated now. And Edgar was forming a plan.

According to his estimates, Figaro would be fine for a while. It had more than enough food and water to last through a prolonged siege, and though that particular situation had thankfully never come up, he was glad they'd done it. Figaro Castle could last.

The problem was oxygen. The castle had an on-board air supply, of course, given its ability to burrow underground. It was designed to only submerge for a few hours at a time at most, but there would be air enough to last a while. Edgar checked over his calculations again. Less than a year. Probably a little under eleven months now. That was his time limit. After that, the air would start to thin, and within days people would start dying of asphyxiation. He had to get to them before that.

The trouble was how to go about it. Figaro Castle was a decidedly unique contraption. There was nothing else in the world like it. While this was naturally a point of great pride for Edgar, it was also a problem in this case. There was nothing that could go down after it. He could try to design and build something, but... with under a year and hilariously little funding, it was hardly a viable plan.

He was stumped.

Edgar's recovery accelerated. Having something to work on -- a purpose -- aided greatly in lifting his depression. The hard time limit acted as a harsh motivator of its own, spurring him to tackle the problem before his kingdom could expire.

He brainstormed possible ways to get to the castle. There really weren't many. That was why the castle was so extraordinarily hard to destroy, but it was proving a real trouble now. Most every idea he thought of would require some sort of machine, or at least far more funding than he currently had access to.

Other travelers came through from time to time. Edgar made sure to ask them all about Figaro, and listened intently to whatever news they had. Mostly, they brought with them updated maps and gossip. It was a long two months before anything promising emerged.

"I'm still not sure if I believe them myself," said the scout dismissively. "Said they came from Figaro Castle, but everyone knows it's been buried for months now. Dunno how they could've managed that."

Edgar's head whipped up from the notes he was studying. "What did you say?"

The scout turned, smiling as he noted that he'd piqued someone's interest. "Y'know, I'm having trouble remembering--"

Exasperatedly, Edgar shoved some coins across the table.

"Ooh, yes, I remember now!" The man said cheerily, pocketing the money. "Said there was a cave opened in the prisons. Sandworms or somethin'."

"Where were they?"

"Uh. Figaro?"

"No, no. I mean, when you saw them."

"Oh. They'd settled down in Nikeah. 'S a pretty good and sleazy place for the likes of them."

"I see..." Edgar muttered. "Thank you." He scribbled down some notes on the edge of his already filled paper. A lead! He could do this after all! It would be tricky, though. First step would be making sure those thieves couldn't recognize him. He was, after all, the one who'd thrown them in prison in the first place.

The next traveler brought bad news. Very bad news.

"He wiped Mobliz off the map. In an instant." The young woman's voice was grave. "Word is, only the children were left alive. Parents all died protecting them."

Edgar and Scarlet stared in shock.

The traveler nodded sadly. "Some lady showed up 'bout a month back and started taking care of them, but... well..."

Edgar leaned back in his chair, pressing one hand against his face. "Kefka can wipe out entire towns on a whim..." he whispered.

"Yeah. Since then, anyone who tries to act against him, even just places where people are getting too hopeful... they're hit by the Light of Judgment."

The first time Edgar felt well enough to go outside, he made the mistake of looking south -- toward where Vector used to be. What he saw in place of the Imperial capital made his gut turn to lead.

There was something there. Something that hadn't been there before. A huge, grotesque black tower that speared the sky like a thorn.

Just looking at it filled his soul with dread.

Scarlet set a hand on his shoulder. "That thing sprouted up just days after the tremors stopped," she said. "It's Kefka's tower. Best to steer clear of it."

Edgar shuddered. Fortunately, Nikeah was in the exact opposite direction. He had no intention of looking at that thing any longer than he had to.

As his health improved further, Edgar began making frequent trips to Tzen to gather supplies for his upcoming journey. He made sure to buy gifts and supplies for the innkeeper too-- it was the least he could do to thank her. He still treasured the look on her face the first time he'd gotten her flowers.

He started to put together a disguise of sorts, too. While he liked the flashy design and royal colors of his usual outfit, he'd stand out like a sore thumb. Instead, he opted for simpler, darker clothes and a brown cloak in place of his cape. He even found a temporary dye he could use to dull down his bright blond hair a little. Unable to stand his long hair being loose any longer, he took to tying it back with a leather strip. Finally. He was certainly no Locke, but he hoped this get-up would at least be enough to fool those thieves. He knew them-- they weren't the brightest lot. Their leader might be a different story, but he'd have to take it as it came.

He picked one of the codenames he'd used in the days of secret correspondence with the Returners. 'Gerad' wasn't the most clever alias, but it'd do. He'd been surprised in the past by how few people caught on to simple anagrams. He was sure it'd been Locke's suggestion originally, so worst case he could at least blame it on his old friend. He felt a small pang, thinking about the crafty treasure hunter, but figured if anyone could survive the apocalypse and learn to thrive it'd be Locke.

"Are you sure about this, Edgar?"

He nodded, offering Scarlet a reassuring smile. "I have to go. They have maybe four months left before their air runs out down there, and I'm going to need time to establish myself in Nikeah."

She nodded sadly. "All right, dear. Do take care of yourself."

Edgar bowed. "Of course, my dear lady." He straightened up and smiled sincerely. "Thank you for everything. I'm truly in your debt."

"Nonsense. I had to do something."

"Thank you all the same. You'll always be welcome in Figaro, should you choose." He took her hand in his, then bent down and gently kissed it. "Farewell."

The woman smiled, trying to hide her blush. "Go, do what you must."

The trip to Nikeah was a long one. Fortunately, Scarlet knew of a nearby chocobo stable that would lend him a mount for a small fee. That was good, because Edgar had no time to lose.

He didn't exactly have a plan yet, per se, but he had some ideas. First, he'd need to spread a reputation for 'Gerad' being a seedy character. Maybe make up some exploits and heists he'd supposedly done. He'd known Locke long enough he was sure he could improvise that. Beyond that, he wasn't sure yet. Making himself someone the thieves might socialize with was one thing, but getting into their circle and getting them to spill how to get into the castle was entirely another. Not for the first time, he wished he had Locke here to help. The treasure hunter had a natural gift for this sort of thing.

He checked and re-checked his appearance whenever he came across a mirror. He kept his old style, more or less, but made it sloppier, dirtier. It was actually decently convincing. He still felt like himself, at least, but he looked grubby enough that for most it wouldn't even occur to them to connect him to royalty.

At least, he hoped.

He arrived in Nikeah just a couple of days later. He gave the chocobo an appreciative pat before sending it on its way back home. Then, he set to work.

He entered the town with a confident stride, shooting suspicious glares at most who looked his way. Playing a mean tough guy was going to be tricky. Politeness was ingrained in him, and acting as sleazy as those thieves would not feel good. But they wouldn't trust someone who talked like a noble.

He made his way to the pub, knowing that would be the quickest way to find rumors. He could start his search for the escaped thieves there.

To his surprise, his search ended there, too.

The four thieves were gathered at a table near the bar, drinking and laughing. Edgar had to wonder where they'd got the money.

Well... might as well be direct about it. He strode up and leaned an elbow on the table. "I heard you boys broke out of Figaro Castle," he drawled. "Pretty impressive."

The thieves exchanged glances. One of them shrugged and spoke up. "And who're you, huh?"

Edgar straightened up and crossed his arms. "Name's Gerad. Been in the business a long time."

"Then why've I never heard of ya?"

"Because you've been in jail, most likely."

They didn't deny it. They weren't very good at this. Edgar noticed for the first time that there were only four of them. Where was that relatively crafty leader of theirs? These four were the lackeys. He was about to ask about the leader, but bit his tongue. He wasn't supposed to know anything about them. Couldn't give himself away.

"Why d'you even care?" asked one of the thieves.

"Well, I think it should be obvious," said Edgar coolly. "I would very much like to break into Figaro Castle."

The four exchanged glances again. "Yeah? Well good luck with that."

"I don't think you understand. I can't get in there on my own; I need guides."

"We just got outta there! We go back in, we're toast!"

"Yeah, man, no way!"

He'd expected this much. Couldn't exactly blame them. "The treasure will be split evenly between us," he said. "You do know about Figaro's treasure room, right?"

That caught their attention. Four pairs of eyes were now raptly on him.

"Oh. You didn't? Well. Let's just say I know my way around the place. I can lead you to the treasure, if you lead me to the castle."

That did it. They were seriously considering it now.

"Uhh..."

"Well..."

One of the thieves spoke up while the others hesitated. "We're gonna take your offer under advertisement," he said with as much authority as he could muster. "You just stick around a while."

"Fine," said Edgar, trying to hide his amusement. They were trying very hard, weren't they? It was actually a little endearing. "I'll be at the inn. Come find me when you have an answer."

He swept out of the room without a backward glance. This was proving a lot easier than he'd anticipated. He was still worried their leader would show up, but now that the seed was planted even that probably wouldn't derail things too much. Now to wait.

Edgar anxiously eyed the papers he'd brought with him from Tzen, covered with his notes and calculations. Figaro didn't have much time left. Even if he got the thieves to work with him, he'd still need to get them all properly equipped for the journey, make plans... and of course, get money. He'd already spent most of what he'd had on him when he washed ashore near Tzen. He'd need to earn more in preparation for the rescue mission, and that would take time. Valuable time.

He was surprised by how quickly the thieves sought him out. He'd expected them to stall for a day at least; it was early evening when there was a knock on the door.

He greeted them with a nod. "Your decision?"

The four exchanged glances, then one was shoved to the front. "Uh, well, mister Gerad, our old boss sorta..."

"He's feedin' the sandworms now," piped up one of the others.

"Uh, yeah. So's, with your generous plan an' all, we was thinkin', maybe you could be our new boss?"

Oh. That would explain some things. Edgar raised an eyebrow. "Well. That's rather sudden."

"Well, y'see, we tried to make it on our own, right? But we just ain't cut out for it. Not without a boss."

Right. Well, at least they were smart enough to recognize their own incompetence. "All right, very well. We'll begin planning immediately. You four are to tell me how it is that you escaped, and then how we can get back in. What supplies we might need, that sort of thing."

They spoke well into the night. Edgar's eyes blazed with eagerness at the solid, tangible lead. His enthusiasm was evidently infectious; even as the hours wore on, the thieves remained engaged and alert.

Apparently, by some chance Figaro Castle had come to a stop adjacent to a sandworm nest. They'd burrowed close to the dungeon, cracking through the walls and giving the thieves their way out. They'd followed the sandworm tunnels out. Edgar nodded and took notes as they spoke, mind racing. They avoided talking about what had happened to their old boss, but it was obvious the place was going to be dangerous. They'd need to arm themselves. Probably some climbing gear, too, and some flashlights. He sighed, tapping his pencil at the base of the list. The thieves paused in their talking, noting that their new boss was deep in thought.

"This is going to take some planning. And time." He nodded to them. "Start making money. You know what to do. We need to be able to afford supplies." He started tallying up what their costs would likely be. "And... try not to spend too much on drink."

"You got it, Boss!"

He very much doubted that. He knew the sort; they'd squander far more than he'd like at the bar. But it was a start.

It was getting close. Far, far too close for comfort. They were almost ready, but corralling the thieves had proven to be quite challenging over the past few months. If it wasn't for the time crunch, Edgar might have admitted to having fun with these fools, but as it was Figaro was never far from his mind. He was so close... just a little longer! They had maybe a week left of air. And that was if his calculations weren't off. But, he just needed to make a few arrangements and they'd be set. Just a couple more days...

He first caught a glimpse of them early in the day. He was sure he was just seeing things, or filling in blanks with wishful thinking.

But no, there was no mistaking the woman's confident, commanding stride or the crisp outfit that had once belonged to an Imperial general.

Nor was there any mistaking the bulging muscles and bright grin of the person walking behind her.

Edgar almost dropped his act on the spot. He wanted nothing more than to rush over, throw his arms around his brother, greet Celes...

But... He couldn't. Not now. He was so close! He needed to keep up the act for just a little while longer. He couldn't let on, no matter how badly his heart ached to tell his friend and brother everything. An entire year had passed since he'd last seen them. He'd feared them dead. Just seeing them alive was enough to give him the confidence he needed to keep going.

Of course, they ended up recognizing him, and couldn't leave well enough alone. He had to focus hard to keep the act up. He scowled as Celes strode purposefully toward him. "What? Is there a problem?"

She seemed briefly taken aback by his reaction, but pressed on anyway. "Aren't you... Edgar?"

He started and glanced around carefully. He spotted his crew leaving the pub, well out of earshot. Good. Couldn't blow things now. He shook his head and walked away. "You've got the wrong guy."

He could feel Sabin's eyes boring into the back of his head. He tried to act natural, stopping to peruse a stall as he passed. Huh, kid actually had some useful relics.

"Edgar?"

He cursed under his breath. Any other time he'd be overjoyed about this, but now was not the time! Figaro hung in the balance-- if those thieves recognized him now, there was no way they'd help him. And the castle was out of time.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," he hissed. He picked up one of the useful items on offer and held it up. "I'll take this, kid." He paid and hurried onward. Please, just let me have this...

Celes and Sabin were right on his heels as he approached the dock. He needed to address this now, before he was in earshot of the crew. He sighed exasperatedly and turned on his heel, startling his followers. "Look," he said sharply, "I'm kind of busy here. I have to get ready-- the ferry to Figaro leaves soon." He turned and took a single step before Celes spoke up again.

"Don't play dumb with me!" she snapped, hands on her hips. Her frown deepened as she examined him. "Edgar... You didn't lose your memory, did you?"

No, fortunately. He hadn't. But he didn't have time for this. Once again, he sighed and turned to face the former general. "Listen," he said impatiently, "It grieves me to have to disappoint such a beautiful lady, but I've been Gerad since the day I was born."

He spared a glance at Sabin, who'd remained silent through the whole exchange so far. His younger brother was just fixing him with a hard, scrutinizing stare. He'd obviously seen right through it, too, but he likely understood that Edgar had his reasons. Obviously, it didn't mean he had to be happy about it. Edgar gave the pair another once-over, then turned and started toward the dock.

Celes's voice rang out behind him, sounding amused. "I've never met anyone else who'd flirt with a lady he was trying to shake off his tail."

Oops. He hadn't even noticed that slip out... Edgar coughed, taken off-guard, but quickly regained his composure. "Ah, but being polite to ladies is common courtesy the world over," he said as smoothly as he could. He could almost hear Celes rolling her eyes. Ah, well. At least she seemed willing to drop it for now.

They'd followed him onto the boat. He was sure of it. He knew them too well-- they were far too tenacious to just give up now that they'd pretty much confirmed it was him. At least they had the sense to be subtle about it this time, so Edgar didn't mind. He was looking forward to getting this over with so he could drop the charade. He missed his old companions terribly.

He tried to remain focused as he briefed his little crew, pushing thoughts of the others to the back of his mind. "So you know the way into the castle quite well, correct?"

As one, the thieves nodded eagerly.

"Of course, boss!"

"Do we ever!"

He nodded approvingly. "Then lead the way. I'll take charge once we're in."

The thieves shouted their enthusiastic consent, and then they were on their way. Edgar leaned against the railing, staring out at the murky water. Not so long ago, this sea had been a beautiful, sparkling azure. Now it was tainted by the ashes of the destroyed world and Kefka's evil magic; the waters that churned alongside the boat ranged from muddy brown to blood red. He looked away.

He counted the hours as they sailed. Every hour that passed was one hour closer to Figaro Castle running out of air. He wished he still had access to Setzer's airship.

After what felt like an eternity, the ferry docked in South Figaro, and the crew settled at the town's inn to regroup and prepare for their expedition. He'd stressed to his four lackeys that this was to be a short rest-- time was of the essence. They were eager enough about the treasure that they didn't question why he was in such a rush.

He settled into the private room in the back of the inn's second floor, going over the plans once more. He stared at his calculations for the air supply. So close... too close...

"...Just a little longer..." he whispered. "I'm coming to help..."

The door opened. He whipped his head around to look, and saw Celes framed in the doorway, with Sabin looming behind her.

"...You followed me here?" He sounded tired.

Celes walked up to him, scrutinizing his face. "You are Edgar, aren't you?"

He turned and met her eyes. The thieves weren't around... maybe he could--

"Boss! Everything's ready. Let's go!" The thief who'd just burst in turned to look Celes and Sabin up and down. "Huh? Who're they?"

Edgar bit the inside of his lip, struggling to stem the sudden welling of emotions. Just a little longer

."Case of mistaken identity, my dear," he said quickly, offering Celes a small, apologetic bow. He turned and nodded to the thief, then followed him out.

A full year of planning. They were so close. He could hardly bear it. The thought of his people down there in the castle... Surely the air would be thinning by now. People would start to feel the panic of oxygen deprivation. He had to hurry.

He recognized the cave they entered. It had once been the connection between the desert and the town of South Figaro. He'd known it well. Now, while the geography had changed somewhat, it was still quite recognizable. How interesting.

The thieves proved to be reliable. As he'd hoped, the lure of treasure was enough to ensure their loyalty. He couldn't help but chuckle at the creative solution one of the thieves thought of in luring a large, sturdy turtle over to serve as a stepping stone over a small underground lake. The reptile didn't seem to mind a bit as the five of them gingerly hopped across its back.

Now they were in unfamiliar territory. He could hear sandworms boring through the earth around them, and quickened the pace. He'd rather not chance being here when they came back to their nest.

And then, all at once, they were home. Well, sort of. They emerged in one of the cells in the dungeon. The thief in the lead eagerly signaled the others through, then pointed at the guard. Edgar's heart sank. The woman was lying on the floor. He hoped she was merely unconscious.

He waited for the thieves to pass before kneeling beside the fallen guard. He gently felt for a pulse and sighed with relief. "Hey... You still with us?"

The guard stirred ever so slightly. "Can't...breathe..."

Edgar squeezed her hand. "I know. Just hold on a bit longer, okay?" he whispered.

Sure enough, the air was thin in here. He hoped they could surface before he and the others succumbed as well.

Edgar took the lead, as promised. They passed more downed guards, and his heart twinged every time. He needed to fix this. He couldn't be too late.

The basement levels had become infested with underground monsters, no doubt creeping in through openings similar to the one the thieves had used. He took his frustration out on them. He was glad he'd made sure all his tools were in working order before they'd set out.

He wasn't sure whether to be relieved or not at the sight of the engine room. On the one hand, it was a delightfully simple problem. On the other hand, he didn't have time to fight off a monster this big! He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. (He couldn't wait to wash all this stuff out and get his nice ribbons back...)

"So, this is the problem, huh..." he mumbled, staring at the bright yellow tentacles. They'd snaked their way throughout the machinery, thoroughly gumming up the works. The thieves hesitated, staring longingly at the door at the other end of the room. Past the tentacles.

"Boss? Our treasure's in the storeroom back there..."

"Yeah! What do we do?"

Edgar glared at the monster that was so close to killing his people. He drew his sword. "I'll keep this thing busy," he growled. "You guys go get the treasure."

"But... Boss!"

"That's dangerous!"

"Really dangerous!"

He scowled and brandished his weapon at a tentacle that drew too near. "Just get moving!"

The thieves hesitated for only a moment longer before taking off for the door. They slammed it behind them.

Steeling himself, Edgar strode onto the walkway between the huge engines, trying to think through how to fight something this large and expansive.

"Edgar!"

He stopped and turned. He'd hoped they'd follow him all the way here. He couldn't stop the grin that crept across his face as he finally, finally dropped the act.

"Well? What are you waiting for, you two? Give me a hand here!"

Celes beamed. "Edgar! It is you!"

Sabin just laughed heartily and threw himself at the nearest tentacle. He tore it to shreds in an instant. Following his lead, Edgar and Celes joined the assault.

Edgar pretty much immediately regretted taking a direct approach. He managed to hack his way through a few tentacles before one batted his sword away and wrapped itself tightly around him. He gasped and struggled, cursing colorfully in all the ways he held back during political meetings. He could see Sabin still darting around the room, his clawed fists tearing through the enemy. The tentacles roiled around him, but simply couldn't grasp him. He was too nimble, too light on his feet, easily dodging every attempt to ensnare him.

Edgar at least took some comfort in seeing that Celes was just slightly better off than himself. She angrily slashed a tentacle that had grabbed her leg, then hacked away at another as it encroached. She held her ground for now, but she was quickly getting overwhelmed.

Edgar grunted in pain as his captor tightened its grip and lifted him off the ground. He spotted Celes below him, finally ensnared by one of the many tentacles that surrounded her. She shouted angrily, but her sword had been knocked away and her struggles proved ineffectual. Sabin was still free, but he'd retreated out of reach of the monster for a breather.

This was not working.

Edgar strained his hand toward his belt. If he could just... reach... There! He grinned in spite of the pain. Even with his movement so restricted, he managed to grasp and rev up his favorite tool. The chainsaw sliced through the tentacle with ease.

Edgar dropped several feet to the metal deck below, leaving him momentarily winded. He scrambled to his feet as quickly as he could, grabbing his chainsaw back up and leaping in beside Celes to cleave through the crowd of tendrils surrounding her. He allowed himself just a moment more to catch his breath before calling out to Sabin -- once more in motion, and still uncaught.

"Group up! We need to group up or we'll get overwhelmed!"

"Right!"

Celes swiftly retrieved her sword, and she and Edgar positioned themselves back-to-back. They carved through the encroaching tentacles, ferociously defending themselves while Sabin worked his way over.

"What's the plan, bro?"

"We need a concentrated attack. Randomly hacking at it isn't working, and we're running out of time." He grunted, swinging his chainsaw in a wide arc to cut off an incoming attack. "Celes, you hit it with magic. Wide-ranging spells, if you can. I'll use Scan and tell you what spells to use."

"Got it," she said tersely. Then she smiled wryly. "You know, as a former general I'm not exactly used to taking orders."

"Well, as a king I am quite used to giving them. Use fire on that section there."

"Right."

"What about me, bro?"

Edgar nodded, moving one hand to prepare another Scan spell. "Keep them off of us."

"You got it!" Sabin grinned and leaped back into action.

It took longer than he would have liked, but it worked. Bit by bit, Celes's magic caused the creature to wither away. Sabin skillfully kept the attacking tentacles in check, and Edgar disposed of any that managed to get past his brother.

Finally, the last of the tentacles shriveled up and disintegrated. Edgar sighed in relief, leaning against the engine to catch his breath. Easier said than done-- the thin air still left him starved for oxygen. They needed to hurry.

He realized Celes was talking to him.

"Acting like you didn't know me," she huffed. She actually looked hurt.

Edgar ducked his head apologetically. "I'd heard Figaro was in trouble," he said. "I wanted to help, but how was I supposed to get here with the castle stuck beneath the sand?"

Celes and Sabin exchanged looks.

Edgar gestured to the door behind them, still closed through all the commotion. "Then I heard the rumor that those guys had escaped from the dungeon."

Understanding lit Celes's face. "Ah. So you used them."

Edgar grinned. "Bingo. And, well, obviously, I couldn't let on that I was the king of Figaro, considering..."

Celes laughed and shook her head. "You were the one who threw them in there in the first place."

Sabin frowned. "But you could've told us."

Edgar grimaced. "I--" He froze and turned to the door. Sounded like they were about finished in there. "Uh-oh. Hide!"

He tucked himself behind a pillar next to the door. Celes and Sabin followed suit, with Sabin electing to hide next to his brother. This allowed him to get in an "accidental" elbow in the ribs. Edgar suppressed a chuckle. He got the message -- That was for being a jerk and pretending you didn't know us!

Good old Sabin.

The thieves burst through the doors, their arms loaded down with the contents of the room.

"Boss! Hey Boss!"

"Boss?"

The four looked around, and their faces fell. "The monster must've got 'im."

They actually looked crestfallen for a moment before they collectively shrugged it off and scurried away. Edgar wasn't quite sure how he felt about that.

The trio came out of hiding, and Celes spared a peek into the room. Empty.

"You don't care if they take the treasure?"

"I couldn't care less about treasure," said Edgar impatiently. He was starting to feel lightheaded from lack of oxygen, and he was sure the others could feel it too. "Those guys haven't done anything wrong... Not really. Not like Kefka."

The expressions on the others' faces darkened at the name.

"So... you'll come along?" Celes asked hopefully. "You'll help us fight him?"

"Of course!" He wanted nothing more.

Well, almost nothing.

Sabin whooped and slapped his brother on the back. "All right! Let's shake things up!"

"First thing's first," said Edgar, patting his brother's shoulder and heading for the exit. "Now that the engines are clear, we need to get to the surface as soon as possible. I'm sure you've both noticed how hard it is to breathe down here."

They made for the controls as fast as they could. All three were dizzy by the time they reached the spot where the operator lay unconscious. Edgar fumbled at the controls for a moment, then Sabin's steadier hands joined his and they moved the lever together. Immediately, the rumbling of the massive engines started up deep below them, and the castle began to rise.

The brothers exchanged bright grins, then slumped against each other. They were perilously close to joining the operator on the ground. Celes was barely better off, leaning back against the nearby pillar with her eyes squeezed shut, carefully controlling her breathing.

Come on... Any second now...

The rumbling stopped. There was a faint trickle of fresh air in the room. The three exchanged glances and hurried for the doors to the outside, supporting one another. They practically fell through the doors, laughing joyously at the sweet, hot desert air that greeted them. They greedily drew in the fresh air, lying on the flagstones and slowly recovering from their ordeal.

"We..." Edgar gasped out. "We need to... check on everyone... make sure they're all okay..."

"Right," Sabin agreed, pushing himself to his feet.

Celes exhaled slowly, steadying her breathing. "Let's split up and meet back in the throne room once we've found everyone," she suggested. The brothers nodded, and the trio scattered through the castle.

Edgar put the finishing touches on his ponytail. Finally, he was back. He looked in the mirror, and it was Edgar Roni Figaro, not Gerad, who stared back at him. He smiled, then turned to go meet up with the others.

They'd thoroughly swept the castle in just under an hour. What they found was largely encouraging-- almost everyone was already recovering. Edgar's expression darkened as he remembered the others. It was only a handful, few enough to count on one hand, who hadn't made it. Elderly, infirm, sick. Already at a disadvantage. But their deaths weighed on Edgar's conscience. He hadn't come soon enough.

And that was just those who'd died by asphyxiation. Inside the engine room, there were several guards who looked to have suffered more violent deaths. Figaro had not taken its fate sitting down, at least at first. However, it was clear to see that everyone who'd tried to fight the monster prior to his arrival had failed. He knew there was nothing he could have done for these guards, but all the same, they added to his feelings of guilt.

No, he told himself sharply. It wasn't his fault. None of the deaths were. He'd done everything he could. He'd pushed himself hard to get here as soon as he did, and he had saved hundreds of lives.

It was Kefka who ultimately held the blame for those deaths. Those, and so many more. And now, at last, Edgar would have a shot at avenging them. All of them.

He strode proudly into the throne room, grinning broadly at the two who waited there. Just seeing them filled him with hope. Here he was, a year after it had seemed all was lost. He had his kingdom back, his people, his brother, one of his dear friends. His life.

"Looking good, bro," said Sabin. He had his arms crossed over his broad chest, a huge grin on his face as he watched his big brother approach.

"I finally feel like me again," Edgar chuckled. "Amazing what a difference a shower and fresh clothes can make."

Celes shook her head. "I still can't believe you fooled anyone. You barely even changed your outfit. And 'Gerad'?" She raised an eyebrow at him. "Really."

"That one was Locke's idea," Edgar said. "Back from when we needed to send messages in code for the Returners. You'd be surprised how effective it was."

Sabin frowned. "I... don't think I get it."

"Rearrange the letters, Sabin."

The younger twin spent just a moment thinking on it before realization dawned on his face and he burst out laughing. "Really?"

Edgar crossed his arms indignantly. "Well, fortunately these guys were idiots and I knew it. I didn't have to try that hard for them."

"Yeah, you stick with that explanation," said Celes with a grin.

"Anyway," Edgar said quickly, "I still have something to attend to."

"What's that?"

"It's been a full year since these people last saw the surface. They need to be brought up to date on... on what's happened."

Sabin and Celes sobered immediately. She ducked her head. "...Right..."

The Chancellor entered at the other end of the throne room, stopped a few meters away, and bowed. "King Edgar, the people are assembled."

Edgar nodded. He glanced back at the others with a grimace. "Well. Time to share the good news." He turned and strode toward the doors. He didn't want to have to place the burden of this world on his people, but... they needed to know. And they deserved to know why their king was running off again.

He emerged on a stone balcony above the castle's courtyard. The entire population of Figaro Castle gathered below, anxious faces turned upward. They already knew something was wrong. The sky was the wrong color, the sun felt different. The world was off.

Edgar took a deep breath and spoke. "I am glad to see you all alive and well. I deeply regret that I was unable to reach you sooner." There was a murmur among the crowd. Mostly, it sounded like appreciation. "I won't sugar-coat this. You deserve to know the full extent of the truth." He closed his eyes and took another deep breath. Here came the bombshell.

"The world has changed. Not for the better. You will recall the events of a year ago, when Emperor Gestahl and his underling Kefka attempted to harness the power that slept within the Esper world. I applaud the decision to submerge when the Floating Continent appeared, as that may well have saved all of your lives -- despite the danger it then put you in."

People were starting to look worried. They could feel where this was going. Edgar steeled himself. "Emperor Gestahl is dead. Kefka killed him."

Assorted shouts from the crowd. Edgar raised a hand to quiet them.

"I am sorry to say that was merely the beginning. Kefka... threw the very source of magic out of balance. This caused the world as we knew it to be destroyed."

Dead silence. Wide, frightened eyes stared up at him. He knew how they felt. "However! Humanity lives on. Towns are rebuilding. Trade is restarting. The problem is that Kefka lives as well."

A rumble of unease spread through the people. Edgar couldn't blame them. "This is why... I must leave you once more. I will return once Kefka is dead. I will rejoin the group of Returners who fought this evil before Kefka's reign, and I will ensure that this world is safe for humanity to thrive again."

Edgar stared out over the crowd. He'd said what needed to be said, but... the people were scared. Thinking back to the first few weeks at Scarlet's inn, he could understand that. They needed hope.

"I know you're all frightened. I understand. However, people of Figaro, know this!" He pressed his hands against the stone balustrade, eyes blazing as he looked out at the crowd. "You have survived! The world ended, and you survived! You were trapped underground for a year, and you survived! No matter what happens, no matter what the future holds, Figaro will live on!"

The crowd cheered. Some were more enthusiastic than others, but Edgar's words had given then the spark they needed. Figaro would not just live; it would thrive.

They retreated to Edgar's chambers following the speech. Reactions had been mixed, as was expected. Edgar addressed the peoples' concerns as best as he could before withdrawing. He was tired. He hadn't actually realized how non-stop he'd been pushing himself for the past several months until this very moment.

A firm hand landed on his shoulder, and he turned to see Sabin's smile. "We've got this, bro."

Edgar smiled. "Yeah." He glanced over at Celes, who appeared to be lost in thought. The three of them had exchanged stories once they'd had a moment of quiet, but something told him Celes hadn't quite shared everything. Recalling his weeks of despair before receiving news of Figaro, Edgar thought he could fill in the blanks.

All right. Enough moping. He straightened up, forcing his exhaustion away. It could wait. "So. If we want to have a chance against Kefka, we're going to need to find the others." He locked eyes with both of his companions in turn. "We've survived. Knowing everyone, I'd say that odds are they did too."

Sabin and Celes exchanged glances. She spoke up first. "Well, we met Terra in Mobliz..."

"Really? That's great!"

Sabin shook his head. "We should leave her alone for now. She needs time to work through her feelings."

Edgar thought back to the various rumors he'd heard in the past months. That's right, he thought, recalling those quiet days at the inn near Tzen. There had been rumors of a young woman who'd showed up to take care of the orphaned children of Mobliz. He nodded. "All right. We'll check on her some time later, but we'll give her space for now. My suggestion is we start our search near Kohlingen." He retrieved his most recent map and a pencil from the pack he'd carried from Tzen. He marked a dotted line between Figaro Castle and a desert farther to the west. "The castle's fit to move at any time. If nothing else, we're sure to pick up some fresh rumors from around there."

Celes and Sabin both nodded in return. Their eyes were alight with determination.

It was time to get the gang back together.