Stand Up and Walk

Reel in the Puppeteer

"Beckoned now by the snow-white backdrop, I go into a yet unseen world. Lost as I traveled under a gray sky, with a different map each day, so many dreams ran together. I wonder if someday, even with my modest stride, I'll be able to get beyond those clouds. Falling raindrops provide a persistent diffuse reflection, as though able to see into my heart, wounded for acting tough. Beams of light crisscross and shoot on forever without announcing where they're headed; faint afterimages burn into my eyes. Wherever I am under this sky, I should still arrive at a yet unseen world."
—Nico Touches the Walls, Hologram

...

"Resembool!" the conductor shouts. "Resembool station!"

You, Ed, and Armstrong all disembark the train. Armstrong leads the way, pausing as he exits the station to look around. The sun is warm on your skin, and you nibble at a nail as you eye the man suspiciously. "Are you going to tell us what we're really doing here at any point, or...?"

The man stares straight ahead as the three of you walk down the path leading away from the station. "I haven't been fully informed on the details," he tells you. "My only orders were to retrieve the two of you and rendezvous here."

"Rendezvous?" Ed repeats. "With who?"

"With whom," you correct reflexively, looking around for the mystery accomplice. Ahead, you see a man sitting on the short stone wall that lines the path. He is dressed in a pair of brown slacks with a matching vest over a white dress shirt, a black jacket slung over his shoulder.

When he sees you approaching, he stands and salutes. "I'm glad you made it alright, Armstrong, sir!" he greets. Then he cuts his eyes to you and Ed and smirks. "What's up, you two?"

"Lieutenant Breda?!"

...

The sun blazes down, and sweat makes your hair stick to your face and neck. Somehow, there's sand in your boots, despite the fact that you're riding on horseback.

The desert stretches out as far as the eye can see in all directions, the only landmarks being various stones and the occasional broken pillar. You feel your brain baking in your skull, and you can't even remember how long you've been traveling—it almost feels like the sand and the heat are the only things you've ever known.

You'd been given a long, light-weight hooded robe to help shield you from the sun, but you'd rather deal with a sunburn than wear any article of clothing that isn't strictly necessary in this heat. You'd stripped it off after just a few minutes, balling it up and stuffing it into a pack on the back of your horse.

"Colonel never said we'd be crossing the border," complains Ed. "Tight-lipped bastard."

"Mr. Han, how much further do we have left?" asks Breda.

You'd met up with the man at the edge of the desert. You don't know much about him, but you've surmised that his job is to help smuggle people across the border. He leads the line of horses, and seems unaffected by the heat.

"We've almost made it," he replies, lifting a hand to point at something in the distance. "Look, you can see the ruins ahead."

Squinting against the sun, you can see what he's referring to—the ruins are ahead at the horizon, and the heat distorts the air, making the image appear to wiggle.

Eventually, you make it there, and despite the oppressive heat, you can't help but marvel and sight of the huge ruined city. At the center is a small pool of water, and you whoop excitedly as you rip off your boots and launch yourself in with no hesitation, Ed quickly following in suit. Steam sizzles in the air as your blazing hot automail meets the surprisingly cool water. Your skin had been burning at the area where the metal meets your skin, and you're relieved at the cooling sensation. Behind you, the horses bend their long necks and begin to drink, snickering contentedly.