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No, it is never too late. Time holds its own, and a human must learn to take advantage of it. The passing hand of time must be stopped. For a soldier, every second is more than precious. Each minute may hold a hidden truth, a new fate. A new destiny.

Human soldiers pay no or little attention to this fact. They are trained in hardcore situations and taught to never slow down, to take that step backward, to glance over their own shoulder at what they may be leaving behind before they press forward into the fray of war.

Sieg, as a newly discovered soldier, still must understand this. As a descendant of the Fates, his destiny will stay hidden and clouded in trouble until that one second he desires comes. And, within that second, a new warrior will be born. A new savior. The inner spirit will be awakened, and it will flow through his veins like his own blood. The answer to all questions will be provided, and the task of all time will be handed down. Whether or not the soldier accepts this depends on the soul. Those around him place their trust in his heart and their lives in his hands because of what they believe.

The truth...where are you?

Who was this woman, this figure, that takes Sieg seriously and warns him of the distant future? A spirit...someone new. Ancient royalty, placing their belief in a human?

It seems foolish, really. So much depends on Sieg, and yet he feels no connection with the Fates. An enigma arises. And so he presses onward, hoping to one day unlock the secrets he holds inside.


Another transport goes up in flames. With every passing second Sieg grows more and more anxious, his heart rate increasing rapidly. A sound...where are you?

The truth...where are you?

No time for questions. The moment of needing action is now. And when the savior is awakened again, nothing will oppose it. The spirit is a mighty force, and no human should contain it. Unleash the energy, and it will reveal your destiny. The savior within must be reborn.

"Ten seconds!"

The voice makes no contact with Sieg. He is lost, bewildered in his own world. His eyes capture the moment, but he hears nothing. The other soldiers seem to move in slow motion, as if caught in a time warp.

Only in desperation for the lives of those you love is the human heart at its strongest.

There it was. The words...so much earlier had the words even made their mark on Sieg's inner soul. Now they have returned, perhaps because Sieg has forgotten the desperation of the demon's fates, of the universe itself. In his own blindness he has let go of everything important and only considered the fate of himself, a lowly human, dragged into this because of origin.

Sieg looks at John, who is trying to make sense of everything. He shouts orders to his men and to the pilots, hoping for some miracle. John...so much of his spirit has been lost, and yet he does not tell anyone. But Sieg knows, and he feels mixed emotions about the problem.

Anger...for John's denial.

Sorrow...for John's coming fate.

Pity...for John's inability to speak of his destiny.

So much rests on Sieg now. Save humanity, save John, save the men who are about to perish, and save those that could not be saved before. And then it all comes together.

"Get down!"

This time, the shout connects. A shell tears through the frontal portion of the transport and explodes, a burst of angry, roaring flames ripping through the cockpit. The shouts of the pilots drain with their lives as the intensity of the weapon claims them. The weight of the shell has forced the transport into the ground, headfirst. It strikes a ridge and flips, tossed through the air like a toy. And then it lands hard on the ground, crushing the frame and whatever else that wasn't protected by the rollcage. Every window bursts, glass fragments flying in every direction. Sieg feels nothing.

The soldiers that were not held by the restraints are thrown forward and down into the frame. The ones who were held by the restraints are thrown down as well; the harnesses are ripped to shreds at the pressure points. Dust billows into the vehicle through the window openings, covering everything in dirt.

And then, with a final groan, the transport comes to a rough stop. One by one, the soldiers who survived the wreck rise to their knees. Sieg, still conscious, rises as well. He feels a sharp sting of pain in his arm, and notices that he has a deep gash almost the length of his hand. Quickly, he removes a shred of cloth from his clothing and wraps the wound in would-be gauze bandaging. He then picks up his weapon and looks for the nearest exit. The rear hatch is jammed, which proves to be a problem. The only other way out would be to crawl through the foot-wide opening near the cockpit. Long, thin metal bars protrude from all directions, making the choice even more difficult.

Sieg glances through the opening, checking for any enemies that may lie in wait. There seems to be nothing, but then one particular shape catches Sieg's eye. He finds himself staring at the distant form of a cannon barrel. It seems to glare down at him, ready to unleash death upon him and everyone else at any second. Suddenly, he is grabbed by a hand and dragged from the vehicle just as the cannon goes off and ends the transport and the soldiers inside.

The hand throws Sieg to the ground as another shell screams overhead, missing Sieg by inches. An explosion follows, and then a rush of wind and dust covers Sieg's unprotected body.

And then there was a greater rush of air, this time from a large craft. Sieg glances upward as the Vaskana glides overhead. It seems impossible, even at the last and most desperate moments these warriors risk everything for one another. Time slows and all else around Sieg begins to rapidly decrease in speed. The Vaskana gently drifts by and gradually takes out the defenses, as Marines charge the perimeter and open fire on everything. Sieg feels strange all at once, a new emotion running through his body.

These men...they don't care what it takes to get it done. Even for the smallest of reasons they fight to protect, and furthermore they are willing to die for its safety. There is nothing that they wish for, other than to serve their nation, their people, and hope to build a greater future for them all.

Tears well up in Sieg's eyes. He rises and leaps forward, as if to reach out to the others. Looks of raw emotion are carved into their faces, and they seem undaunted by the inevitable. At this point, Sieg throws aside all else and calls out to them, no longer able to bear the sight.

"Stop it...just stop. Make it all end. I can't stand it anymore...no, I can't bear the sight of it..."

But nothing bars their path. This is what they have chosen to do, and it is what they will die for if necessary, if destiny calls for it. And so they continue to fight in a rage, letting their soul take over and force them onward. Sieg, tears streaming down his face, watches them as they fall, one after the other. Their piercing screams fill the air, and yet the others surge forward. Explosions begin taking form along the perimeter. All of this is happening because of Sieg. Simply because he exists, and at the same time because they believe in something that he cannot understand.

It was all too much. Something about it drove through Sieg's heart, piercing his soul and finally pushing him over the edge. His knees buckle and he falls to the ground, his gentle and silent cries being all he can hear. Everything else fades away, images taking over. Countless lives are sacrificed, and here stands Sieg, the bearer of witness.

If he could he would stop it, stop everything and just end the story here. But he knows he cannot do such a thing, for it is fate that has chosen this story for him. To end it now would be letting everyone down, and denying the prisoners their deserved freedoms. In this state of mind he realizes what life is like when you are willing to give it up. He sees so much more clearly now, and understands that he can never just end the story when he so desires.

Cry of the soldier, tears of eternal pains. Truth, death, and reality. Lies and hidden realms. Rise, for you hold the key to life itself.

Sieg cannot hold it back anymore. In the center of all chaos he cries, and holds nothing back. Even as he pleads for the protection of all those he has come to respect, he can only watch as the prayers are faint and never heard, and the soldiers perish one by one.

John approaches. A hand, one that belongs to a creature of being and contains so much grief, lands on his shoulder. "I know what you see out there. I'm sorry...I'm sorry that it's so hard to understand, so difficult to witness. I felt the same thing so long ago. And now to see someone who cannot let it go...it's strange."

Sieg accepts the embrace. To know that someone else outside his own world can understand what he feels is a welcoming thought. Yet, at the same time, he feels oddly responsible.

"Your men...they're dying out there. Aren't you going to protect them?"

John gazes ahead, his face bearing a confident appearance. "I wish I could, but they are the ones who are protecting you. This is what they are willing to die for."

Sieg, too, looks ahead. The soldiers continue to battle the opposition, each of them praying that their sacrifice will help make a difference in Sieg's future.

"But...what about you? Won't you..."

John doesn't reply. Sieg instantly realizes what he has questioned, and even John himself sees that Sieg understands. It is just as the lone figure had told him: John is a once legendary spirit that has now begun to fade away. And now he too will die. John smiles weakly and steps forward, his rifle lifted and ready.

"Come on now. It is that time."

John leaves Sieg behind, knowing that it will take time for him to begin the journey to full understanding. It is a journey that he alone will have to make. John knows he can only take him so far, and from there Sieg will be on his own.

Gaze back, back to where you once knew. That light grows brighter now, just as your soul does. Feel that warmth, feel that energy? Your spirit grows, and it will not stop until it is freed.

Sieg rises. Through the radio he hears a static call, probably from the vessel.

"Sir, we're just outside the uptown ruins. We'll hold position here until you arrive. Copy? Over."

And then there is no response at first, but gradually the silence is broken as John's voice comes to life. "Copy. Uptown ruins, confirmed. We'll meet you there. Over."

"Yes, sir. Let us know if you need backup. Over."

And so the transmission between forces is lost. The radio signal cuts out just as the final reply comes through. Sieg, now ready to continue, lets his rifle hang down his side as he trudges forward towards the city perimeter.


Blackness. Emptiness abroad. A figure stands before her, a gentle light glowing from within its body. Long, flowing robes of translucent cloths grace the figure's body and eventually drift to the floor. The robes constantly change colors as they seem to burst with energy. The eyes burn a flawless white, an icy gaze of the beholder. This figure, unlike most Sieg has seen, carries a jeweled staff with grand metals forming the high point. They twist within one another and eventually join at the tip where the part once more, just enough to bear a beautiful, carved stone of emerald.

This figure is no ominous, for her eyes are the welcoming look of peace and gentleness, and her presence strikes fear in the hearts of the heartless. She gazes down upon the weakened body of Reine, the human girl who appears fascinated by the embrace.

"I sense something in you, Reine. Another human soul, filled with grief but formed of light."

Reine seems emotionless, even as the figure speaks her name. She feels as if this person has known her all along, and that they have been close before. The truth...where are you?

"Do not speak, Reine. I know what you're thinking. Save words for later, for now you must listen."

Reine does as she is so calmly instructed. She rises to her feet and waits, patiently, for the woman to continue.

"You don't know why you're here. And that, for the moment, is how things should remain. Why you are here and what has happened to you is not important. The present is of little worth at this small point in time. What matters now is what lies ahead of you. Your destiny is at hand, and now is the time for you to accept what is yours and to fulfill your purpose."

And now the truth shows itself. The way it is brought forward reminds Reine of a small child, one that is shy and cannot show himself whenever he desires to do so. Only when his mother takes him by the hand and introduces his face does he feel recognized.

The figure steps forward. "I cannot tell you enough now," she whispers as she raises a hand and gracefully places it on Reine's face. "Our time here draws short. It will be better if you see things for yourself. But bear in mind that you have a purpose, a destiny to fulfill. A savior to become..."


"She's awake."

A voice...where are you?

"Yes. She's recovered. But how?"

Reine listens but does not reply. By the sound of their tone, she guesses that her life was on the line before now. She knows she is not strong enough to pull out of something serious. She is not a warrior, nor is she strong. Little does she know, however, that this small piece of her life will change very soon.


The sun, holding a precious warmth, gently lowers beyond the horizon. The skies turn red along the distance and the stars can be seen directly above. A cool breeze breathes against Reine as she watches the peaceful day surrender to the night. Her hair is gently cast into the wind, as is her loose clothing. Below the rising hill there is the city ruins, remnants of old glory and past sacrifice.

Nearby, there is the faint and soothing sound of the ocean as her waves break against the shore. The sound instantly reminds Reine of home, and tears begin to stream down her face. She closes her eyes, but yet the tears continue to escape and roll down her cheeks. And she stands there, her memories flowing through her mind.

Gentle is the sound of peace. The savior within is born...

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