Johnny sat in the corner of the train car connecting Sector 5 to Sector 7. The carriage was Old, rusted, and packed tight with factory workers returning from the night shift, their faces etched with exhaustion. The overhead lights flickered with a gloomy hum.
No one paid any attention to the boy with the massive bundle strapped to his back. In Midgar, everyone was too consumed by their own misery to notice.
Johnny stared out the window. The view offered nothing but the darkness of the tunnels, punctuated by the occasional flash of spotlights from the pillars supporting the plate above.
Johnny's hand brushed against his jacket pocket, where Puck was hiding.
"Puck," Johnny whispered, his lips barely moving. "Are you awake?"
"I can't sleep with this racket, Boss," Puck replied softly from inside the pocket. His small head peeked out just a fraction, ensuring the coast was clear. "The stench of sweat in here is worse than the mercenary barracks back in the day."
Johnny didn't respond to the quip. He took a long breath, gathering the courage to ask the question that had haunted him since they left the church.
"Tell me," Johnny said. "How... did it end?"
Puck fell silent. He knew exactly what "end" Johnny meant.
"Are you sure you want to hear this now?" Puck asked, his tone shifting to serious. "This isn't a bedtime story."
"I need to know. So I can... close the book," Johnny replied firmly.
Puck climbed up, hiding behind Johnny's jacket collar, right near his ear. His voice turned soft and sorrowful.
"After you were pulled away by that green light—the Lifestream... the Balance collapsed, Guts."
Johnny listened, his eyes staring blankly at his own reflection in the train window.
"Griffith... or Femto... he succeeded," Puck continued. "He merged the astral and physical worlds completely. But it wasn't the utopia he promised. It was hell."
Puck sighed deeply, as if recalling the horrors he had witnessed.
"A mist of death blanketed everything. Monsters crawled out of every shadow. The majestic Kingdom of Falconia... fell overnight, devoured by the Idea of Evil which had gone out of control. There is no more sun. No more moon. Just a vortex of screaming souls."
Johnny's hand clenched into a fist on his knee. His knuckles turned white.
"Casca?" Johnny asked, the one name that hurt the most.
"She fought to the very end," Puck whispered, his voice trembling. "She led what remained of your party. Rickert, Isidro, Schierke, Farnese, Serpico... they all stood tall. They didn't run. But... the wave was too massive. That world was swallowed by the Abyss. Everything returned to nothingness."
Johnny closed his eyes. A single tear escaped, rolling down his dirty cheek, but he wiped it away immediately.
His world hadn't lost a war. His world had been deleted.
"So... my struggle was in vain," Johnny muttered bitterly.
"No!" Puck denied sharply, loud enough to almost make the passenger next to Johnny turn his head. Puck lowered his voice again. "It wasn't in vain. Because your desire to live... your determination that refused to die... that is what attracted the attention of Gaia, this planet."
The train jolted violently as it passed over a damaged track joint. Johnny opened his eyes again. His gaze was colder now, but more focused.
"Why me?" Johnny asked. "If Gaia needs a hero, why call the leftovers of a failure from a destroyed world?"
"Because you are the only one who knows how to fight against Fate," Puck answered.
Puck flew out slightly, pointing toward the lights of the Mako reactors visible in the distance through the window.
"You see those lights? That is blood, Johnny. The blood of this Planet."
Puck explained with an unusual tone, as if passing on a message from Ivalera or the Lifestream itself.
"That company, Shinra... they suck the life out of Gaia to turn it into electricity. They are killing this planet slowly. Gaia is dying, just like your world was before the Eclipse."
"So I'm here to destroy an electric company?" Johnny asked skeptically.
"That's just the surface," Puck corrected. His tone darkened. "There is something else. Something worse than Shinra."
"What?"
"The Lifestream whispers about... a Calamity from the Skies," Puck said. "There is a shadow waiting. A fallen hero... who wants to use this Planet's wound to become a God. Just like Griffith, but he wants to destroy everything with meteor fire."
Puck shuddered.
"His name is vague... Se... Seph... something. But his aura is silver and cold. He has the same presence as Griffith. And if he rises, what happened to your world... will happen here too."
Johnny fell silent. The pieces of the puzzle started to fit together.
Shinra was Ganishka—greedy worldly power. This "Silver" figure was Griffith—a cosmic threat wanting to play God.
And he... he was still Guts. The Struggler.
"So..." Johnny rested his head against the train wall. "I ran from one apocalypse, only to walk right into another."
"Just think of it as Round Two," Puck comforted him, patting Johnny's shoulder. "But this time you aren't starting from zero. You have a young body, you have magic Materia, and you have that Flower Girl. Your odds of winning are better this time, Boss."
BEEP... BEEP...
The train announcement crackled tinny and loud. "Sector 7. Last stop. Sector 7."
The carriage doors opened with a harsh hydraulic hiss. The air of Sector 7, smelling of iron and smoke, immediately greeted Johnny. The smell of home.
Johnny stood up, hoisting his backpack which now contained hope (Materia) and a heavy burden (the truth). He stepped out onto the dirty station platform.
Around him, the hustle and bustle of Slum life went on as usual. Hawkers shouted, children ran around, and Shinra troopers patrolled lazily.
Johnny looked up at the steel sky above him.
He knew his past was burned to ash. He knew his future was threatened with destruction. But right now... in this second... he was still alive.
"Let's go home, Puck," Johnny said, adjusting his sword. "Mom has probably already cooked lunch."
Johnny walked through the crowd, disappearing into the labyrinth of Sector 7's alleys.