G’raha Tia and Bolormaa Dotharl had no idea about the chaos happening in Sharlayan. Nor did they know the struggles the Scions were going though. No, the two of them had finally returned to Mor Dhona. Bolormaa leaned on the smaller Miqo’te, her tail curled around his waist. Her injuries from the mysterious swordsman still ached, but at least she could move around. The two of them were still rambling to each other - currently, they were discussing the implications of the crystaline blood which matched the tower itself. 

As soon as the two approached, Rammbroes couldn’t help but smile. “Wrangled up my ally, did you? Did you get the—”

“Aethersand?” Bolormaa asked, chirping happily. “We did!”

G’raha, meanwhile, tried to detangle himself from the Dotharl. “And I saved her life as she did.” Pride swelled in his voice - pride easily ignored by Rammbroes.

As they exchanged the sand, Bolormaa slipped to the ground, holding her body once again. Rammbroes turned to go find Cid - and G’raha remained standing over the weakened woman. However, he couldn’t help but look up at the tower - his ears twitching violently. There was somebody watching…? Huh. Perhaps it was the Gigas, curious. Or perhaps the other tribes who lived here. It was odd, but nice. The sounds here were far more varied then back in Sharlayan - much less controlled.

Soon, the proud Cid Garlond walked over, holding the four shaped crystals. They gleamed and bubbled with elemental power. “There. That should do the trick!”

Rammbroes gave a little amazed gasp. “Excellent work! We now possess all four of the “fangs” required to pierce the Crystal Tower’s defenses. My compliments, Master Garlond!”

Raising a hand, Cid shook his head. The midday sun gleamed off the fangs, as another limped into the scene. Cordis, who moved to lean against Cid again. “Oh, it was a trifling matter, I assure you.” Cid said, looking over to the resting Bolormaa. “Bolormaa here is the one you should be thanking.

Anyway, by my reckoning, there’s nothing stopping us from striding up to the Allagans’ front door!”

But before Cid could speak more, suddenly a familiar Lalafell and Roegadyn rushed up, out of breath. “You can’t go without us, Chief!” Biggs insisted.

Cid shrugged - hiding a small wince, the clicking returning. Alexander whispering to him. “Biggs! Wedge! Come to lend a hand, have you?”

Biggs nodded, as Wedge looked at the scene in amazement. “Well, it’s not every day you get the chance to study the wonders of the Allagan Empire, is it? Their technology makes Garlemald’s look ancient!”

Ah. That’s why the clicking was there. Cid looked to Biggs, then to Cordis as he spoke. “I appreciate your enthusiasm, lads, I really do, but we’re not here to take this knowledge for ourselves.” His voice dropping, enthusiasm leaking from it, Cid couldn’t help but try and quiet both the men and the God by him. “Twice in the last decade, the promise of unimaginable power has prompted men to meddle with technology they do not understand, and the realm has been dragged unto the very brink of oblivion on both occasions.

We shall not be so irresponsible as to risk another.” Nor him or Alexander would. A small smile crossed his lips. His gaze slightly shifted downwards. “Wedge, do you recall our company’s creed?”

The Lalafell nodded, voice louder then Cid. “Y-Yes, Chief! It’s, um, “Freedom through Technology”?”

Yes. “Exactly. Freedom.” A thing Cid no longer had, but it was okay. “When we forsook our homeland, we swore that we would have no truck with machines that could be used to promote tyranny. That has not changed.

Should you feel tempted to break your oath, remember this:” Cid took a pause, as Cordis gave that firm nod that could inspire nations. “The wonders of the all-knowing Allagan Empire could not save their civilization, and have damn near doomed ours. Twice.

That is why we must explore the Crystal Tower, and, if needs be, seal away its secrets.”

G’raha gave a little click from his position next to Bolormaa. He looked upwards, tail swishing. “A compelling viewpoint.” He jumped to his feet. “It is unyielding wills such as yours that have defined the course of history.” Excitedly, he strolled over - offering over his hand. “I believe an introduction is in order. I am G’raha Tia, one of the Students of Baldesion. I look forward to joining you and yours on your groundbreaking expedition!”

But as Cid took G’rahas’ hand, he suddenly stumbled. His feet suddenly felt unstable, and as he tried to remain standing for the sake of Cordis, he felt the selfsame Hyur trying to hold him up. Alexander was trying to see though him, and it wasn’t working. All that Cid could do was let out a weak little whine, as he slipped into unconsciousness. Biggs and Wedge rushed to check him over, Rammbroes let out a small swear under his breath, and G’raha Tia stared.

Far away, Bartz had barely moved. Midgardsormr watched the scene as well, the corpse aware. “Hey, old man?” Bartz asked, finally, his conversation having grown quiet as the group met. The wind blew by him, a quiet answer that the Father of Dragons was listening.

As he always had been.

“You felt that too, right?”

It had been so long since Midgardsormr had spoken, moreso though the currents around them. Then again, corpses were not the most talkative. “The Gods stir. The old die - the new sprout.”

Bartz swore he heard a laugh in the ancient voice enveloping him. A joy - even as the air seemed to be filled with something terrifying, something which reminded him of times he’d rather not think about. His breath slowed, Bartz took a step forward. Before stopping himself. “But the last time this happened— you know what happened. Friends of ours told you.”

Friends Bartz knew were still out there. Pondering the other, the one older then him, Midgardsormr lowered his voice once more. So that none would mistake it for the Dragonsong, none of his children would think they had to come for him. “You have been preparing.”

Shrugging a little, Bartz sighed. “We have. But… you know? I thought we’d have more time. I still haven’t figured out how to help my boyfriend. And we’re still all splintered.”

“Since my birth.” Midgardsormr knew these Warriors were his elder, but he still looked upon them as if their positions were switched. The wind was building in intensity, whispers leaving the two of them. “Do you trust them?”

A simple question, and one which Bartz couldn’t help but give a simple answer to. “I’m not one to follow gods or all that - sure, I’m one of Cosmos’, but we’re friends - I think? So as long as the new Gods are good people, I don’t think we need to worry. Except for them getting corrupted.”

Which, as Bartz said it, he realised was a big problem. “Then again, most of Chaos’ Warriors ended up inside Zodiark. And with him—”

“That is his problem - not yours,” Midgardsormr mused, before the wind began to die down. He was growing tired. It was rare he spoke for this long, even with one of those he had grown to see like kin. “Keep watch. Prepare.

Your war begins. Mine shall soon conclude.”

Cid woke to the face of his beloved, of Cordis, leaning over him. Ears brushed against the top of his head. Eyes gentle, Cid mumbled - barely realising where or when he was. “Caught me, did you? Won’t sneak off again…”

Gently, Cordis continued to brush his ears against the other, filled with affection. “We both will, and you know that. But you haven’t been sneaky since… since we met again.” An unspoken secret, Cid then snapped his eyes open. Cordis smiled, pulling back. Now that he’d woken, it was clear Cid had been placed on the ground, kept stable. A soft coat put under his head, and Cordis was sitting by his side.

Cid groaned. “The ticking… the ticking…”

“Did it say anything…?” Cordis whispered, having been told earlier about his state. 

Shaklily, Cid tried to form words. It took a few moments. “No, I— Alexander didn’t—” His gaze turning to G’raha - who watched with concern, Cids’ own face turned dark. “I don’t know what’s up with that boy.”

“I don’t think there’s anything up with me?” G’raha replied curtly, ears ever-so-slightly pricked backwards. “But I’m sorry. Didn’t know my touch was so electric.”

Standing, Cid dusted himself off. “It’s a whole thing,” he mumbled, holding a hand out for Cordis to join him. “Not your fault.”

Giving a chirp in reply, G’rahas’ tail began to swish. “So then, our fellowship is complete, and all stand ready to step into the unknown! Three cheers for NOAH!”

What a strange fellow, Cid thought, as he raised an eyebrow. “…Noah?”

“That is the name I have chosen for our little collective,” he explained, as he looked around. From Cid and the Ironworks, to Bolormaa, to even Rammbroes. “Given our differing backgrounds, we cannot very well call ourselves the Sons of Saint Coinach, can we?” A pleased purr entered his throat. “And we must have a memorable appellation if our venture is to leave its mark in the annals of history.”

A pause, as G’raha pondered how best to explain. “I could claim that NOAH stands for “Nominated Observers of Artifacts Historical,” and so it does, technically─but my true reason for choosing this name stems from the fact that it is shared by a vaunted Allagan archmagus.”

“Oh?” Bolormaa asked, looking upon G’raha calmly. “Could you tell me more?”

Just before he could begin, Rammbroes spoke up. “Now that the pressing matter of what to call ourselves has been settled, it is time we set forth to brave the outer defenses of the Crystal Tower. Is everyone ready to depart?”

With a loud cheer, the group began to move. Bolormaa and G’raha, of course, discussing the history of the person known as Noah. Sliding in front of the group, G’raha spoke proudly. “Esteemed colleagues! The secrets of ancient Allag beckon!

Let’s not keep them waiting any longer!” Taking control of the situation, G’raha could barely hold his excitement back. “Bolormaa - you and I will join the engineers at the Crystal Tower’s main gateway, where we will endeavor to neutralize the structure’s outer defenses.”

Giving a small tsk, G’raha looked over to their Roegadyn friend. “Rammbroes, meanwhile, will remain here and oversee the operation.” A pause, a dramatic shrug. “Given my knowledge of Allagan history, it seems logical that I should lead the expedition itself… though I admit the role does not exactly befit my status as an observer.”

Bolormaa nearly spoke up, to ask if there is truly anything as an observer, if history was not manipulated by everybody - but she did not. His actions would sooner reveal his thoughts on the matter…

“Still, we can but make use of the resources at hand. Assuming all are in agreement, let us proceed forthwith to the large, lopsided gate found to the southeast.”

There was something strange in the air. None of them wished to say so, as the towering statues pulsed with energy, energy that represented the elements that Bolormaa had found crystals of. It wasn’t the same energy… yet none dared mention it, lest they would need to focus on it. “I say… The energy radiating from these statues is…palpable,” G’raha mumbled, his single red eye beginning to ache ever-so-slightly.

Cid stood in front of the Miqo’te. “Lucky for us that it is. One might otherwise stroll past them…” he stated, firmly. “Feast your eyes on the elemental defenses which prompted our lengthy preparations. These sentinels prevent would-be intruders from advancing to within twenty yalms of the tower’s inner reaches.”

“…No matter how swift they may be,” G’raha commented, even as he continued to glance around, sniff. No, something had gotten past them, he wished to scream. But he had no evidence.

“Happily, the crystal fangs we took such pains to craft should spare us the inconvenience of instantaneous annihilation. Here, allow me to demonstrate.” Cid said, beginning to move forward. Cordis let out a silent protest.

“Cid, it’s too—”

“Dangerous to allow anyone else to risk his life testing one?” Cid replied, adding a bit of softness to his reply. “Quite right. I made the damn things ─ it’s my job to see that they work. It won’t be like last time, Cor.”

He stood firm, getting out his elemental fang - holding it up to the statue. It shot a laser - almost reaching Cid, before it was reflected. The statue froze, the power surged, and everything stopped.

“…Hah! Success!”

Handing out fangs to the others, the defenses were soon dissolved. And yet, both Bolormaa and G’raha noticed the same thing. They moved in front of one - the formerly firey one. Bolormaa put a hand out to prevent G’raha from stepping forward. “Do you see it?” she asked.

G’raha nodded, tail curling around his leg so it did not move the dust any more then they needed. The ground had ever so slight imprints in the ancient dust, ones far too modern. Else they would have faded away. And there were scratches in the statue, small metal flecks mixed in. “While Allag did have robots, the rebellions didn’t have access to metals this fine…” G’raha mused, as he then looked to Bolormaa.

Bolormaa was sketching the footprint as swiftly as she could, in her leatherbound journal. “And these soles - they’re not Allagan-style, from either side.”

Cid came over to them, looking over both of their shoulders. “Are you saying we’re not the first though?”

Turning slightly, Bolormaa nodded. G’rahas’ voice was oddly fragile. “We need to be careful. We all know that Dalamud crashed and things came out, right? Might be from there.”

He was denying that anybody could have done this first. “The entrance to the tower is near at hand. My blood fairly sings with anticipation!” he chirped, trying not to show his concern. “And we’ll find this person too.”

Cid sighed. “Actually, speaking of blood, I have a proposal.”

Bolormaa spoke over him. “Hey, G’raha. Let’s go disable the defenses - with our knowledge, we’ll be safe!”

Before Cid could suggest sending in a proper band of adventurers, the two excitable friends had taken off. Sighing, Cid looked towards the Tower - Cordis resting against his love once more. “We’ll. We’ll do what we can, Cid. They’ll let us know when we can go in.”