At this point, Cloud would have gladly exchanged his entire materia collection for a better filing system.

They'd found the archive, alright. They had access as well, thanks to Rosch's codes.

Unfortunately that didn't mean they could actually find what they were looking for. Cloud knew what the fal'Cie in that old bunker had looked like, even if he had not recognized it for what it was at the time. He knew it had used security bots to try and kill him, before it had turned him into a l'Cie.

In short, he was looking for a house-sized octagonal prism with a large crystal eye on each side, that was located at the center of an old bunker probably going back to the War of Transgression, and that seemed to be in control of the various automated systems within that bunker.

What he didn't know was its name. Meaning he couldn't just search for that, and find the information he was looking for.

Which, considering the archive apparently contained information on in excess of 8 million fal'Cie, was kind of a problem. True, apart from a few hundred, the vast majority of those fal'Cie were nothing but glorified, barely-sentient machine parts in this or that airship, factory, or climate control system, but they still existed. Which meant they were listed in the archive. An archive with a filing system that seemed to hail straight from the dark ages, and which was depressingly lacking in options to narrow down the search criteria. Cloud suspected it had never been meant for use by humans.

After almost an hour of mostly aimless searching, he was definitely getting frustrated. Lightning had long since passed that state.

"Damnit... damnit, damnit, damnit! There has to be a way. We can't fail now! Not because of something like this."

He sighed. "This obviously isn't working. If there really are millions of fal'Cie..."

"I know!" She paced in circles like a caged tiger.

"Maybe this place is bigger than it appears at first. Did you see the panel at the portal? What if the portal can connect to other places as well?"

"Even if it does, how would that help us?" Lighting made another angry sound conveying pure frustration, then sighed. "I suppose I might als well take a look anyway."

She went to do so, and Cloud mentally prepared himself for reading through another endless mass of fal'Cie dossiers, but then though better of it. This clearly wasn't working.

In a situation like this, with no clue on how to proceed... what would Aerith do?

Almost by itself, his hand wandered to the small bag with the materia from that tunnel under Gapra Whitewood.

It really was quite obvious, wasn't it?

Trying not to feel too silly, he removed the Skyfleet issue helmet he was wearing, sat down on the cold floor, stared deeply into the green orb of crystallized lifestream in his hand, and listened.

Or tried to anyway.

For a while, the only thing he could hear was Lightning quietly cursing in the background as she fiddled with the portal controls to little success. He idly noted that she had a much larger and more creative vocabulary of rude words than he previously would have guessed. Then again, she'd been a soldier not too long ago. So thinking about it, this probably shouldn't have been such a surprise.

Maybe it was odd, but somehow the combination of Lightning's voice saying mean things about the Sanctum fal'Cie, and the soft green glow of the materia in his hands... it was strangely relaxing, really.

Before long, he lost himself in the light in his hands and the whispers in his mind that gradually ceased to sound like Lightning's voice.

When Cloud came to, it was dark. Curious, for there to be a day-night cycle in a place like this.

He found himself still in exactly the same position he'd sat down in... was it a few hours ago? He'd lost all feeling for the passage of time. His limbs felt numb though. It must have been some time.

He searched his memory, and what he found was, in one word, strange, and didn't make a lot of sense. In Cloud's experience, that pretty much confirmed that the Lifestream had been involved in some way. What's more, for reasons that he couldn't quite explain, one single word had stuck in his mind.

'Machai.'

It sounded like a name. An unusual and exotic name at that, the sort you'd expect to belong to a being equally unusual and exotic in nature. Like a fal'Cie. Mission success, then.

Rising from his sitting position, Cloud spend a few moments looking around.

Behind him, the portal had shut down, though the control panel was still lit. In front of him, the archive computer was still active and ready to be accessed. Beside him, Lightning was sleeping on the cold, bare ground. He must have been in his lifestream-induced trance for quite some time, then.

She had shed the stolen Skyfleet Armor and helmet, and was sleeping in the ordinary everyday wear they'd bought in Palumpolum before things had gone straight to hell. Lying on her side, she was using her arms as a pillow for her head. It couldn't have been a comfortable position, but it was probably more comfortable than going without sleep for much longer. Neither of them had been getting much rest the last few days.

Comfortable position or not, Lightning seemed to be sleeping well enough. She didn't toss or turn, and her breathing was deep and even. Good. Even l'Cie endurance had its limits.

And she looked... different, somehow.

Without really consciously deciding to, he found himself studying her, trying to pin down the reason why he suddenly felt like he was looking at someone other than the companion he'd come to know and care about in the short time they'd known each other. She had the same face, the same lean but athletic build, the same rose-colored hair. He could still tell the location of various bruises and cuts he'd healed after the fighting yesterday. And yet... something was different. What had changed?

It was startling when he realized it.

Something was missing.

That carefully maintained neutral expression that gave nothing away, until now, when its absence suddenly gave away everything. For as long as he'd known her, awake Lightning had worn an expression of perpetually suppressed unhappiness. She never allowed it to show, buried it under purpose, or anger, or defiance, but there always was this aura of constant gloom that fit her like a second skin, to the point it had never quite registered as anything unusual or noteworthy. There were brief interruptions, yes, but in the end, that had been Lightning's default state the entire time. And for now it was gone, but he knew it would return the moment she opened her eyes.

It was a shame, really. He wanted it to stay gone. Light looked so much nicer without it.

It would stay gone, he resolved. Maybe not today, but eventually there was bound to be something that could banish it. He'd been foolish to agonize over Lightning's presumed fate instead of thinking about how to best change it. Just because they were working on his focus now, it didn't mean there wouldn't be any time to go after hers too. And Lightning may not have much hope for her sister, but on this Cloud disagreed – he'd seen stranger things than a person who'd been turned to crystal, but who was otherwise intact, coming back to life.

He walked up to the computer in the center of the room, entered the access codes, and searched for 'Machai'. Sure enough, there was a hit.

'Machai, Overseer of Battle' read the information on the screen. There was a picture too, confirming that this was the fal'Cie he was looking for.

Machai, it appeared, was some sort of fal'Cie general. He was not optimized for combat, but rather to command and direct a massive number of automated systems and troops. Rather high in the fal'Cie hierarchy, he answered only to a fal'Cie called Barthandelus. During the War of Transgression, Machai had been in charge of entire armies and dozens of l'Cie.

And it's ultimate purpose had been...

'Machai's focus, and the focus of his l'Cie, is the elimination of all Pulse l'Cie to transgress against Cocoon's sanctity."

Everything ground to a halt.

The small spark of hope he'd managed to kindle during the last few hours was instantly extinguished. This was supposed to be his way out?!

He re-read the sentence, then re-read it again. The abominable words on the screen did not change.

No...

No, no, no...

NEVER!

Not even if she told him to. Lifestream, she probably would tell him to, if she thought that was the only way to save both him and Cocoon!

He couldn't think. He couldn't breathe. He could barely stand.

The l'Cie brand on his back burned like fire. He felt like he was melting.

Patterns of burning-bright golden yellow light blazed into existence all around him even as his legs failed him and he fell to his knees.

Then the light abruptly collapsed and solidified into something solid. It was a sword. A very, very familiar sword, or more precisely, an entire assembly of familiar swords. But it had changed. Gleaming steel had been subtly accented with gold. A blade that could already cut skyscrapers in the right hands had acquired the otherworldly quality of something that was somehow more real than reality.

Holding the blade by it's handle was a pale apparition of golden light. Mostly transparent, its form was nevertheless an unmistakeable reflection of Cloud's own likeness.

Eidolon, supplied the part of Cloud's subconscious most touched by his powers as a l'Cie. An envoy of mercy, come to offer the only escape left.

Gattai Ken, disagreed the part of him that had been touched by a different higher power long before he'd been marked with the brand of a l'Cie. More than an eidolon. A part of you.

But also an eidolon. Beware! The inner voice continued.

At that moment, however, Cloud could not have cared less for explanations. The massive blade of the Fusion Sword cut through the air aiming straight for his head, and reflexes formed by a thousand battles drove him to dodge and draw the old PSICOM issue broadsword he was still armed with. A ferocious flurry of slashes, dodges, cuts and parries followed.

Within the first exchange of blows, Cloud could tell that he was going to lose.

Lightning awoke to the sounds of battle.

That alone was worrisome enough. Worse, however, the battle in question appeared to be happening quite close.

A sudden flood of adrenaline banished all thought of sleep, and she shot to her feet just in time to be blinded by an intense flash of light and hit by a shockwave of heat and pressure seeking to hammer her straight back to the ground. It would have, if she hadn't mastered the technique of anchoring her footing with magic over the course of the last few days. Firaga spell, close range, said her swiftly waking battle instincts. Not aimed at me.

Her vision cleared, and the source of the inferno became apparent: It was Cloud, fighting a shimmering figure of light wielding an absurdly oversized sword. His armor seemed to be glowing in places from the heat of the very spell he had just blasted his opponent with.

An opponent who seemed none the worse for wear. This was bad.

In one fluid motion, she both unsheathed her sword and unleashed a brilliant arc of electricity at Cloud's attacker.

She missed.

How could she miss? She was shooting lightning. You simply didn't miss with something like that!

But she had. Before her eyes, Cloud and his unknown opponent seemed to blur with the sheer speed of their movements. It was as vicious as any battle she had ever seen. She was fairly confident the gap in strength between her and Cloud had gotten smaller. And it had, but evidently not by enough.

A blindingly fast horizontal cut was aimed at Cloud, and the superior reach of his attacker's weapon forced him to parry and deflect rather than simply dodge. Against the sheer mass of the colossal sword coming his way, it was a lose-lose situation. Cloud made his parry, but was literally pushed to the side by the impact, his defense wide open.

She fired another spell, and though her magic didn't seem to cause any appreciable damage, she managed to win Cloud the fractions of a second he needed to recover. The battle of swordmasters continued. She tried to flank the enemy, and almost got her head removed for it. Only a desperate and reckless series of attacks by Cloud managed to take their enemy's attention off her before she got killed. She still received a nasty gash on her arm for the attempt. Cloud only barely avoided worse.

With growing dread, Lightning realized the terrible truth: Cloud was losing. And nothing she was doing could change it.

Just a few hours ago, for the first time since this entire mess began, she'd been filled with hope. Hope, that while she might not live herself, she'd still achieve something worthwhile before the end. Something she actually cared about.

And now it would end like this? NO! A thousand times no. She refused to accept it!

There was another clash of swords. Then it happened.

Cloud was a tiny instant to slow, and his opponent scored a hit. Just a glancing blow, and Cloud's counterstroke forced his attacker to jump back and gain distance to preserve his own life. But as the grisly wound in Cloud's leg made him stumble, it became clear that it would slow him down far too much to still have any chance of winning. There was no time for healing spells. The battle wasn't over, but it was decided.

The ghostly swordsman moved in for the kill.

Lightning put herself straight in his path.

For a split second, as she moved into position she caught a brief glance of Cloud and saw naked terror in his eyes as he realized what she was doing. A part of her wanted to ask for forgiveness, but there was no time for words. She could feel her heart beating like a jackhammer in her chest, and yet she felt as if her entire body was frozen in time in the midst of events that simply moved to quickly for her to keep up, either physically or emotionally.

No matter.

If these were the last few seconds of her life, she would make them count. Nothing else mattered. Not her focus. Not her many, many regrets. Not the fate of Cocoon. Not the odds, and not the agonizing pain suddenly radiating from the l'Cie brand on her chest.

She grit her teeth and prepared to fight to the bitter end.

She'd failed Serah. She would not fail Cloud.

She deflected the first blow, and incredibly the second as well. Then the sheer force of the third nearly broke her arm and drove her to one knee. When the gigantic sword moved in for the fourth time to cut her right in two, she didn't even try to defend herself and instead threw herself straight at her enemy, the point of her sword aimed right at his throat.

Then somehow Cloud suddenly appeared to the side and a little in front of her, his weapon moving into a desperate defense as he tried to stop the inevitable, and the l'Cie brand on his back blazing with a furious golden light to match the rose-colored radiance from her own.

Everything burned.