The desert wind swept across Dalmasca, carrying with it the scent of spice, sand, and distant fire. Clive and Lunafreya stood near the city's stone archways, the trinkets at their sides pulsing with a strange rhythm. It wasn't the steady glow of Sirius calling, nor the warning thrum of danger — but something different. A vibration that spoke of change.
Clive shifted his weight, his sword resting against his shoulder. "It's the same as before," he muttered, eyeing the faint light in the trinket. "Someone new."
Lunafreya's fingers brushed over hers, her face calm though her voice carried curiosity. "Yes… Sirius told us this would happen, but the uncertainty lingers. Who will join us next?"
Clive's brows furrowed. "Another king, perhaps? A warrior? Someone with the strength to match what's ahead?"
Lunafreya shook her head gently, her pale hair catching the torchlight of the plaza. "Not always strength of arm, Clive. Sometimes the greatest allies are those with wisdom… or with hope."
Clive gave a short grunt, skeptical but not dismissive. His eyes scanned the empty square where the trinkets were guiding them. The pulse grew stronger, almost like a heartbeat beneath his skin. They waited.
And then — Sirius appeared.
The air shimmered, and with a subtle ripple of light he stepped forth, cloak billowing faintly behind him. But he was not alone. At his side was a small figure, half his height, cloaked and hatted, glowing yellow eyes peering out from beneath a wide brim.
Clive blinked. "A… child?"
The figure shifted nervously, clutching his staff.
Lunafreya's lips parted, her voice soft with surprise. "He is so small…"
Sirius's expression remained steady, though his tone carried weight. "This is not what he seems. This is Vivi."
The little mage bowed his head slightly. His voice, quiet and hesitant, floated into the space between them. "H-hello…"
Clive tilted his head, confusion clear. "You're the new member Sirius chose?"
The boy nodded once, gripping his staff tighter. "I… I suppose so."
Sirius stepped forward, his gaze sweeping from Clive to Lunafreya. "You wonder why I bring you a child when the world demands warriors. But Vivi's story is unlike any of ours. He was created, not born. He and his kin were made for war, their lives bound by a limit. Their time is short — cruelly short. Yet in that time, they have learned what it means to live, to feel, to choose."
Vivi's head lowered, his voice trembling but resolute. "It's true… My kind… the Black Mages… we weren't meant to last. Some of us live a year, maybe two, before we stop moving. No sickness, no wounds… we just… end."
Lunafreya's hand went to her chest, horror flashing across her face. "Such cruelty…"
Clive's jaw tightened. His mind, scarred by loss, recognized the hollow sorrow in the boy's tone. He remembered Joshua's screams, the endless deaths of his comrades, the burden of lives cut short. A child living under that shadow? It stirred something deep within him.
Vivi's small hands trembled, but he continued. "We were created for war. To kill. But some of us… we wanted to be more. To live. To find meaning. My friends, my kin… they tried. Some found joy, even if it lasted only for a short while. But all of us… we knew it would end."
The words weighed heavy on the air. Clive's fists clenched at his side.
Sirius placed a hand on Vivi's shoulder, steadying him. "But destiny did not hold him as tightly as it thought. I gave him — and his kin — something more. Not eternity, but hope. I extended their lives."
Vivi lifted his head. His voice grew firmer now, though the childlike tremor never left it. "Sirius gave us more years. He gave us… time. My kin, my family — they now have 120 years to live."
The silence that followed was absolute.
Lunafreya's eyes widened, disbelief mingling with awe. "One hundred and twenty…?" She pressed a hand to her lips. "That is more than a miracle… it is rewriting existence itself."
Clive's breath caught. His voice, low and heavy, escaped him before he realized. "To go from mere months to more than a century… That isn't just hope. That's freedom."
Vivi nodded slowly. "I don't know what will happen after that. Maybe… we'll still stop moving someday. But now, at least… we can live. We can choose. And for someone like us, that's more than enough."
Clive studied him in silence, the little figure trembling yet standing tall in his own way. A boy facing a fate harsher than most men ever endured — and still speaking of hope.
He's… stronger than he looks, Clive thought, shame prickling his chest. Stronger than me, perhaps. To carry such truth and still speak of living…
Lunafreya's gaze softened, a quiet reverence shining in her eyes. "Vivi… yours is a courage rarer than any sword. I am honored to meet you."
Vivi fidgeted, ducking his head, embarrassed. "Th-thank you… I'll try to live up to it."
Sirius's voice cut through once more, calm but final. "And this is why he is here. Not because of strength alone, but because of what he represents. Hope. The will to live despite certainty of death. That is what this war against chaos needs."
Clive nodded slowly, his own grief tempered by a strange respect. "I see it now. He belongs here as much as any of us."
Before any of them could speak further, the trinkets flared — a static hum buzzing at their sides. The air filled with faint voices, distant yet familiar.
Zack's voice came first, brash and incredulous. "Wait—what did he just say? A hundred and twenty years?!"
Aerith's tone followed, softer but just as shocked. "That's… impossible. Isn't it?"
Galuf's chuckle rumbled across the connection. "Impossible, aye… and yet here we are, listening to it happen."
Reks's voice carried quiet awe. "To give such life… Sirius, just what are you planning?"
The five in Eorzea had been listening the entire time. The connection had carried Vivi's words across the worlds.
They didn't speak greetings. They didn't laugh. Not yet. They simply listened, the weight of the revelation leaving them stunned into silence.
Even Zack, usually quick to crack a joke, went quiet after his outburst.
The silence stretched, heavy with unspoken emotion. Shock. Respect. Perhaps even a glimmer of fear at the scale of what Sirius had done.
Vivi glanced between Clive and Lunafreya, fidgeting with his staff. "D-did I say something wrong…?"
Clive shook his head firmly. "No. You said everything that needed to be said."
Lunafreya smiled gently, though her eyes glistened. "You have given us all much to think about, Vivi."
And in the unseen quiet of another world, five heroes carried those words with them, each one struck by the same undeniable truth:
This child, born of war and destined to fade, now stood as one of them.