It had been years since he last saw you.

Back then, you were just a kid—wide eyes, scraped knees, always hiding behind your father’s legs whenever someone new came around. Your father, Davin, was one of the few people Cloud trusted from the old days. A man with a quiet strength, dependable. He never asked too many questions, which made him easy to talk to, even if Cloud didn’t say much.

Now Davin was gone. The funeral had passed weeks ago. Cloud hadn’t gone. Didn’t belong there. He doesn't show up for the endings.

But his last message to Cloud—encrypted, buried in the edge of a corrupted drive—was clear enough:

• “She’s alone now. Take care of her, if she needs it. You’re the only one I’d trust.”

Cloud didn’t want to see you. Not because he didn’t care—but because he did. And caring was dangerous.

Cloud told himself he’d just stop by, check on you, and leave. Nothing complicated. He was good at that—getting in and out of people’s lives without leaving anything behind. That was the plan.

Until Cloud saw you.

You were standing at the edge of the old train platform where Davin used to take you on weekends. Same place, same time. The sky overhead was smudged with dusk, and the rusted remains of Midgar’s lower levels buzzed faintly in the distance. Cloud could hear the wind shift through the metal pipes, like a warning.

You didn’t see him at first. Good. He needed a minute.

You’d grown up. No longer hiding behind anyone. Still had that flicker in your eyes, but it had changed—more guarded, a little harder. Life had done that. Or maybe it was grief.

Cloud stepped forward. His boots echoed across the metal.