Chapter Four: Cipher

Hope sifted through the morning's data, waving a hand in the air to scroll through updates with more sharpness than was necessary. He felt brittle this morning, and it wasn't just the lingering headache. It was hard to know what to make of the new report from the Intelligence Division. Against his own wishes, when higher-ups got the word about the assassination, Intelligence had taken it upon itself to to scan all transmissions, including private correspondence, from the last several months. When a sizable encrypted file had shown up on his terminal this morning, he knew that they had found something.

Footsteps behind him made Hope swipe downwards abruptly, a cutting motion that wiped the data from the projection. He turned and saw Noel making his way into the chamber. The silence lasted a moment too long, then Noel said, "You're up early."

"I woke up and couldn't get back to sleep." What Hope left out was how he had wallowed in utter embarrassment in the dark for about an hour before a truly punishing workout far above his recommended fitness quota.

If Noel intended on talking about last night, he didn't let on. "Found anything?"

"Yes. Here." Hope pulled up the report. Did Noel really have no intention of saying anything? Truth be told, it's not like Hope wanted to be reminded of what he had done. "Intelligence sifted through several months of communications. They pulled up this. It's a series of transmissions between soldiers here and what seems to be some sort of remote command center near Sulyya Springs."

Noel scanned through the report and whistled softly. "There's . . . a lot here, Hope."

"The long and short of it is that sometime around 270AF, a movement sprung up to end the succession of Interim Directors who held the position in anticipation of my return. They wanted to use the military to depose the Interim Directors, find the gravity well and destroy it, and install a Commander who would rule Academia with the military at his back. The movement still exists, though it is much smaller now—and it looks like they may be the ones planning the assassination attempt."

Noel's mouth narrowed into a grim line. "We've got two days. Let's take them out before they come for you."

"Between you and me, Noel, I can't pretend there isn't some validity to their concerns, if not their solution."

"You're saying you're gonna let them come after you?!

"Of course not. I didn't ask to be made Director, but I'm going to see the new Cocoon project through. It's humanity's only hope. We need to head to Sulyya Springs and see what we can find there. The report doesn't indicate what they're planning to try in two days."

"Right. We don't have much time. Let's go."

Hope shook his head. "I have to alert the commander of my personal squad. They will likely insist on accompanying us to—"

"Hope, are you insane?" Noel slammed the doors to the chamber shut, then dashed in front of Hope. "What in the world makes you think that, after uncovering a conspiracy in your guard, that going and telling them you're off to their headquarters is a good idea?" he grated, poking Hope in the chest with a finger.

"I trust them," Hope said simply. "And besides, when we get there, what are we supposed to do? We have no idea how many soldiers there'll be. We'll need the extra firepower."

"Did you forget the part where you saved the world once upon a time?"

Hope's shoulders slumped a little. "That was a long time ago, Noel," he said. "I'm not that boy anymore.

"So you can't use magic anymore. You're still pretty damn good with that boomerang, Hope. We'll be fine." Noel had lost none of his intensity. "More importantly, you cannot trust them. These are not the soldiers you knew in 13AF. Almost four hundred years of political machinations have gone on since you last checked in, and who knows how much you're not fully aware of? Who knows how deep this goes? After we get answers, you can bring them back into the fold. But not until then."

Hope let the silence spool out for a moment. "I'll need to grab a few things." He headed for the door. "Meet me here in fifteen minutes. I know the plans for this building—and I know a secret way out."

Noel grinned. "If we do this right, we'll be back before they even miss us."

Hope didn't mention to Noel that he planned to take a quick detour.

It wasn't far to Alyssa's cell. When he arrived, she was catatonic, an IV in her forearm. This was not how she should spend her last days.

A screen winked into existence against the glass. "Good morning, Director. The subject is sedated for her own safety and well-being. When she is conscious, she suffers from psychosis and delusion, leading to self-harm."

"Thank you, doctor," Hope said, his voice suddenly hoarse. "When was she last fully conscious?"

"A few hours after your visit yesterday. We tried putting her on antipsychotics, but she refuses anything that isn't forced."

"How is she delusional?" Hope feared he already knew the answer, but he had to be sure.

The doctor flipped through a few charts. "She screams about being dead. Insists that she . . . let's see here . . . that she's a 'paradox' and that she doesn't belong here, and then she tries to grab anything she can and hurt herself. We can provide audio, if you wish, Director."

Hope winced. "That will be unnecessary. Thank you, doctor." He started to wipe away the screen, but then stopped. "Tell me, doctor . . . does she dream?"

"The sedation is too deep to allow for dreaming, sir."

Hope was silent. He could not get rid of the crushing sense of wrongness, that keeping her imprisoned on what were likely the last days and hours of her life was far greater punishment than anyone should fear to bear. But what could he do? Director he was, but he would be no dictator, and releasing Alyssa would undo the underpinnings of justice that held Academia together.

Still, it was difficult not to order the doctor out and free Alyssa himself. It would have been harder still if she were conscious, if she were able to give voice to her plight.

"Director, perhaps this is overstepping my station," the doctor said, "but in a moment of clarity, she did want to convey one last message to you. She asked that you forgive her for what she has done."

A gut punch. Wordlessly, he waved his hand and the screen dissolved. He did not need the doctor to see what came next. She looked so harmless, a victim really, lying thin and unconscious beneath the sheet. The doctors knew no better—they assumed she would stand trial—but Hope did. Serah and Snow would resolve the paradoxes. She would never wake again.

He had lingered too long; surely Noel would begin wondering where he was if he stayed. Before he turned, though, he put hand to glass, as if she would feel it, as if he could make her stay. "I forgive you, Alyssa," Hope said, "and whatever happens, I promise I won't forget."

It was no great lie when Hope sent a missive to his staff claiming to feel ill. There wasn't much worth taking in his quarters. Only one thing, really. He clasped the band of the manadrive around his wrist, where his l'Cie brand had once been. It felt heavy, like a manacle. Hope ghosted down a narrow service corridor and through a side door into the chamber where the massive hologram of Cocoon hovered silently overhead. Noel waited there, weapons and rucksack at his side. "I'm ready," Hope said. "Let's go."