[Slowly, but surely, they make their way across. Solid as this bridge is now, she's still nervous about it giving way underneath them. Even the lack of sway from the wind puts her on edge—there's always a wind up here, so high up in the mountains that not having one... it's so, so wrong.
And for a moment—the briefest moment—there's a flicker of something ahead of them. As if the thick fog somehow gives way to reveal another one behind it and like it's reaching in to pluck from Sora's subconscious, it will be one that he might recognize. It's dark, and ominous clouds roll in overhead, and jutting out from the ground stands countless numbers of keyblades. Hundreds and hundreds...
But the image is shrouded behind the thick fog once more, but this time, there is no more light beyond it, and the moon no longer illuminates their path. Instead, it's dark, almost pitch black, except for a strange blueish glow, where Tifa can only make out the outline of Sora's shadow, despite him standing at her side.
Her hand grips his tighter, and she calls out.]
... Mom?
[There's no answer, but her voice echoes uncharacteristically loud.]
no subject
[Slowly, but surely, they make their way across. Solid as this bridge is now, she's still nervous about it giving way underneath them. Even the lack of sway from the wind puts her on edge—there's always a wind up here, so high up in the mountains that not having one... it's so, so wrong.
And for a moment—the briefest moment—there's a flicker of something ahead of them. As if the thick fog somehow gives way to reveal another one behind it and like it's reaching in to pluck from Sora's subconscious, it will be one that he might recognize. It's dark, and ominous clouds roll in overhead, and jutting out from the ground stands countless numbers of keyblades. Hundreds and hundreds...
But the image is shrouded behind the thick fog once more, but this time, there is no more light beyond it, and the moon no longer illuminates their path. Instead, it's dark, almost pitch black, except for a strange blueish glow, where Tifa can only make out the outline of Sora's shadow, despite him standing at her side.
Her hand grips his tighter, and she calls out.]
... Mom?
[There's no answer, but her voice echoes uncharacteristically loud.]