After that emotionally draining conversation, Johnny rose slowly. He reached out, helping Aerith up from her spot amidst the lilies.
"Come on," Johnny invited softly. "There's something I want to show you."
They walked out of the old church to the dusty front yard. There, beneath the shade of a slanting concrete overhang, sat a silent mechanical beast.
A custom motorcycle painted matte black with dark red accents. The engine was massive, sturdy, looking aggressive yet elegant. This wasn't a scrap job; it was a work of mechanical art.
Johnny grabbed two helmets from the seat. A black full-face for himself, and a cute cream-colored open-face helmet with a clear visor—perfectly sized for Aerith.
"Johnny..." Aerith stared at the bike, then looked up at the cracks in the steel plate far above. Her cheerful face dimmed slightly. "Are you taking me to... the Upper Plate?"
"Yeah. Let's go for a ride. See a world that's a little cleaner," Johnny replied, handing her the cream helmet.
Aerith hesitated, hugging her own arms.
"To be honest, Johnny... I'm scared," she admitted softly. "The sky up there... it feels too vast. It feels like it wants to swallow me whole. Here, under the plate, I feel protected. But up there... there are no boundaries."
Johnny fell silent. He understood that feeling. In his old world, the sky was where the horrific Eclipse took place. But the sky was also where the sun rose.
"The sky is beautiful, Aerith," Johnny assured her. "Far more beautiful than you imagine. And you don't need to fear being swallowed."
Johnny patted the back seat of the bike.
"Because I'm here. You can hold onto me as tight as you want. I won't let the sky take you."
Suddenly, two tiny heads popped out of Johnny's jacket pocket.
"That's right, Princess!" Puck exclaimed, his eyes sparkling. "The sky is the place of freedom! And... cough... I hear there are lots of delicious restaurants up there!"
Ivalera flew out, landing on Aerith's shoulder. "Princess, please consider the logistics. In Sector 8, there's Strawberry Shortcake, Fruit Parfaits, and chewy Mochi! On TV, they say the Steak melts in your mouth!"
Puck was practically drooling. "Just hearing it makes me hungry, Boss. Let's go!"
Aerith chuckled at the fairies' antics. Her fear melted away a little. She looked at Johnny, then nodded firmly.
"Alright. For strawberry cake... and to see the sky with you."
Johnny smiled faintly. He placed the helmet on Aerith's head, carefully fastening the strap beneath her chin, ensuring it was secure but not too tight.
The engine purred smoothly when ignited. VROOOM... A deep bass sound, the sign of perfect compression.
Johnny gunned the engine, leaving the church grounds and heading toward the main Sector 5 connector leading to the massive support pillar.
===============================================================
At the checkpoint gate leading to the cargo lifts and the highway to the Upper Plate, a squad of heavily armed Shinra Troopers stood guard. Their faces covered by helmets, they looked intimidating to the average Slums resident.
One trooper raised a hand, stopping Johnny's bike.
"Halt. Show ID. Upper Plate access is restricted to authorized personnel," the trooper said stiffly.
Johnny calmly reached into his pocket, producing his resident ID and a business card printed on thin metal: Garrick & Son Workshop.
The trooper took the card, read it, and his posture immediately relaxed. He turned to Johnny.
"Ah! You're Garrick's kid? That Johnny?"
"That's right, sir," Johnny answered politely.
"Wow, what a coincidence!" the trooper exclaimed, cracking his visor open a bit. "Hey, tell your old man the fridge in Barracks 3 has a busted cooling unit again. All our beer is warm. Can it be fixed tomorrow?"
"Consider it done, sir. I'll send someone or come myself by tomorrow afternoon," Johnny promised.
"Solid. Go on through, drive safe. Don't speed in Sector 8, lots of sensitive rich folks up there," the trooper said, opening the gate arm with a casual salute.
The low-ranking Shinra troopers living in the barracks often used Garrick's workshop because it was cheap and durable. That business card was more powerful than a diplomatic passport in the eyes of soldiers thirsty for cold water and functioning washing machines.
Johnny's bike sped past the gate, entering the spiral highway climbing the massive pillar.
As they went higher, the air became colder and cleaner. The smell of rust and sewage slowly faded, replaced by the scent of ozone and strong wind.
They exited the final tunnel, and suddenly... the world opened up.
===============================================================
The Upper Plate.
The city above the city. A giant steel disc that sheltered and simultaneously oppressed the world below. But from here, Midgar looked like a technological utopia.
The roads were wide, paved with smooth asphalt without potholes, designed for luxury vehicles and security patrols. Skyscrapers towered overhead with sterile glass and metal facades—efficient, uniform, and glittering in the afternoon sun.
Johnny steered the bike onto the highway leading to Sector 8.
"Johnny! Look!" Aerith shouted over the wind, pointing upward.
A vast blue sky stretched out above them. There was thin smoke from the Mako Reactors in the distance, but the majority of the canvas above was bright blue with drifting white clouds.
"It's so beautiful!" Aerith cried out.
Her fear of being "swallowed by the sky" vanished as she hugged Johnny's waist tightly. She pressed her chest against the young man's sturdy back, seeking an anchor so she wouldn't fly away.
To Johnny, that sensation—the warmth of Aerith's body pressed against his back—made his heart beat faster than the motorcycle's engine RPM.
In the jacket pocket, blown open slightly by the wind, Puck and Ivalera's faces turned hilarious. Their cheeks rippled and flapped in the high-speed wind.
"IIIIIIIIIVAAAALEERRAAAA... MY MOUTH IS DRYYY...!" Puck screamed, his voice lost to the wind.
"DON'T OPEN YOUR MOUTH, IDIOT...!" Ivalera retorted.
Johnny parked his bike in a designated lot on Loveless Avenue, the most elite entertainment district in Midgar.
This place was 180 degrees different from the Slums. Neon lights, giant digital billboards, and citizens dressed in expensive suits and gowns walked to and fro.
"Where to first?" Johnny asked after they took off their helmets.
"The park!" Aerith answered enthusiastically. "I want to see how rich people grow flowers."
They walked to the artificial city park in the center of the district. Johnny was a little disappointed. The grass was neat, the trees pruned symmetrically, but everything felt... plastic. Soulless.
"The soil is different," Aerith commented softly, crouching to touch the dirt in a large flower pot. "This soil... was brought in from outside Midgar. But they gave it too many chemicals."
"Your flowers at the church are still better," Johnny said honestly. "Your flowers grow because they want to. These flowers grow because they are forced to."
Aerith smiled broadly, taking Johnny's hand. "You're starting to sound like a botanist, Sir Shield."
After walking around the park, Puck's stomach began to rumble loudly, drowning out the sound of car horns.
"Boss... steak... meat... hungry..." Puck whimpered from the pocket.
Johnny took them to a bistro with an outdoor seating area. He requested a table in a somewhat hidden corner so they wouldn't be too conspicuous.
He ordered the menu requested by the fairies: Midgar Special Steak (premium beef with mushroom sauce) and a large Strawberry Shortcake, plus two Fruit Parfaits.
When the food arrived, Johnny's eyes widened at the portion size of the Steak. The meat was thick, juicy, and still sizzling on the hotplate.
"Dig in!"
Johnny cut into the meat. The taste was incredible. Far different from the rat or monster meat he usually ate while wandering as Guts, or the hard bread in the Slums.
Under the table, Johnny secretly dropped small pieces of meat into his palm, then offered them to the jacket pocket where Puck was waiting with his mouth wide open.
Meanwhile, Aerith enjoyed her cake with sparkling eyes. Ivalera, hiding behind the table's flower vase, occasionally flew fast to steal strawberry slices from Aerith's plate when the waiter wasn't looking.
"Is it good?" Johnny asked, seeing a bit of white cream on the corner of Aerith's lip.
"So good!" Aerith scooped up a spoonful of cake. "Open your mouth, Johnny. Say 'Aaa'..."
Johnny's face heated up again. "Aerith, people are watching..."
"Aaa..." Aerith insisted, refusing to take no for an answer.
Resigned and with ears burning red, Johnny opened his mouth. The sweetness of the cream and the tartness of the strawberry exploded on his tongue. Sweet. Too sweet for a rough soldier like him, but... he didn't mind.
===============================================================
Dusk settled over the city. The neon lights of Loveless Avenue flickered to life one by one, casting a romantic yet melancholic cyberpunk glow beneath the steel plate of Sector 8.
Their final destination was the magnificent theater at the end of the street. There, a giant poster displayed three men in leather coats wielding long swords: "LOVELESS".
"Tickets are so expensive," Johnny murmured, looking at the prices at the box office. "2,000 Gil per person."
"We can just stand on the back balcony, Johnny. It's cheaper," Aerith suggested, not wanting to burden Johnny's wallet, which had just been drained by the expensive meal.
"No," Johnny pulled out his wallet firmly. "We take VVIP seats. I saved up specifically for tonight. You deserve to sit in the front."
They entered the grand theater. Johnny and Aerith sat in a plush private balcony with the best view of the stage.
The house lights dimmed. The red velvet curtains parted slowly.
The performance of LOVELESS began.
It was an epic tale adapted from an ancient poem about three friends, a prisoner, and the search for the "Gift of the Goddess."
An actor on stage recited the prologue, his baritone voice echoing through the hall:
"When the war of the beasts brings about the world's end,The goddess descends from the sky,Wings of light and dark spread afar,She guides us to bliss, her gift everlasting..."
Johnny froze in his seat. Those words... "War of the beasts"... "World's end".
To him, this wasn't just poetry. It was memory. It reminded him of The Eclipse. When the sky became a weeping human face, and hundreds of Demons (Apostles) descended to feast on his comrades.
Throughout the performance, Johnny watched with an intensity that was unusual. He didn't see actors performing; he saw a reflection of his own shattered life.
The lead actor looked up at the artificial sky:
"Infinite in mystery is the gift of the goddess.We seek it thus, and take to the sky.Ripples form on the water's surface.The wandering soul knows no rest."
Johnny's jaw hardened. "Take to the sky..."
His mind drifted to that moment. The moment Griffith used the Behelit, sacrificing everything to ascend and become Femto. While Johnny (Guts) was left on the ground as a "wandering soul," running endlessly from the pursuit of evil spirits, while Casca remained trapped within her own mind.
The scene changed. The actor playing the Hero spoke with immense charisma:
"There is no hate, only joy.For you are beloved by the goddess.Hero of the dawn, Healer of worlds."
These words stabbed Johnny's heart sharper than any sword. "Hero of the dawn..."
Griffith. After slaughtering the Band of the Hawk, he returned to the physical world as The Hawk of Light. He was worshipped as a savior, a prophet, a healer of worlds. The world loved him, even though he was a demon. The irony made Johnny's blood boil.
The stage went dark, save for a single spotlight on the narrator:
"My friend, do you fly away now?To a world that abhors you and I?All that awaits you is a somber morrow.No matter where the winds may blow."
Johnny gripped his knees. "World that abhors you..."
That was his life for two years as the Black Swordsman. Hated by humans for bringing bad luck, hunted by ghosts every night. No place to rest. Only a "somber morrow."
The narrative continued to the darkest act, the one often called the "Missing Act":
"My friend, the fates are cruel.There are no dreams, no honor remains.The arrow has left the bow of the goddess.My soul, corrupted by vengeance.Hath endured torment, to find the end of the journey.In my own salvation. And your eternal slumber."
Johnny's breathing grew heavy. "Corrupted by vengeance..."
The shadow of the Beast of Darkness—that red-eyed black hound in his mind—began to growl. The words described his battle against the God Hand, his journey with the Skull Knight, and the Berserker Armor consuming his soul for power.
In the final act, the Hero on stage fell to his knees in magnificent despair:
"Even if the morrow is barren of promises,Nothing shall forestall my return.To become the dew that quenches the land.To spare the sands, the seas, the skies.I offer thee this... SILENT SACRIFICE."
SACRIFICE.
That single word snapped everything.
The stage lights went dark. A moment of silence. Then, thunderous applause erupted throughout the theater.
But Johnny didn't clap.
In the darkness of the transition, Johnny no longer saw a theater. He saw the Brand of Sacrifice on the necks of his friends spurting blood. He saw Griffith pointing at him. "I Sacrifice."
Johnny's dark aura began to leak out. The "Berserk State" started seeping from his pores.
Thin black smoke, like ink dripping into clear water, began to waft from his shoulders. The air around the VVIP box dropped drastically, becoming as cold as a grave.
Puck, inside the pocket, trembled violently and squeezed his eyes shut. Ivalera hid behind Aerith's hair, terrified by the faint, shadowy outline of a feral beast forming behind Johnny.
Johnny no longer saw the luxurious theater stage. He saw the Eclipse. He saw Griffith's calm, cruel face behind the Femto helm.
"I sacrifice them," the voice whispered in Johnny's head.
"NO!" Johnny's mind screamed. The primal rage awoke. The urge to cleave, to destroy, to exact vengeance began to override his sanity. His right hand gripped the velvet armrest until the expensive fabric tore and the wood beneath cracked.
"Johnny?"
A soft voice shattered the nightmare.
Aerith turned, seeing Johnny's terrifying expression. Johnny's eyes were open, but he saw nothing. Black. Empty. Overflowing with hatred.
Aerith didn't scream. She didn't run.
Calmly, she reached out for Johnny's hand, the one crushing the armrest. She clasped the trembling fist with both of her warm hands.
A faint green light—Lifestream—flowed from Aerith's hands, into Johnny's skin, pushing back against the black smoke.
"Johnny, I'm here," Aerith whispered firmly. "Come back. It's just a play. You are in Midgar. You are with me."
The touch was like cold water thrown onto hot iron. Hiss...
The black smoke recoiled, as if afraid of Aerith's pure light. The image of the Eclipse in Johnny's eyes slowly shattered, replaced by Aerith's concerned face illuminated by the theater lights.
Johnny gasped. His breathing was ragged, cold sweat soaking his temples. He looked around, realizing he had almost unleashed his "Berserk State" in public.
He looked at Aerith, then at his hand enclosed in hers.
Johnny took a long, deep breath, trying to normalize his racing heart.
"What did you think, Johnny?" Aerith asked softly, her voice trembling slightly, but she forced a smile to soothe him.
Johnny swallowed hard, banishing the image of Griffith from his mind. He looked back at the now-empty stage.
"A sad story," Johnny said honestly, his voice raspy. "About people searching for something they cannot have. About fate toying with humans."
Johnny looked at Aerith intently.
"That last part... 'Even if the morrow is barren of promises'... I don't like what follows."
Johnny's eyes sharpened. The soul of Guts, the Struggler against Fate, spoke.
"In the story, he chooses to be a Silent Sacrifice. He gives up. He dies for a world that hates him."
Johnny shook his head.
"That sounds like a challenge to me. If tomorrow holds no promises... If tomorrow is empty and barren... Then to hell with fate."
Johnny turned his hand over, now gripping Aerith's hand tightly.
"I will not be a silent sacrifice. I will force tomorrow to give me a promise. I will come home. I will return. Nothing shall forestall my return."
"Whether it's monsters, fate, or gods", Johnny added silently.
Aerith was stunned by the interpretation. It wasn't the interpretation of a poet. It was the interpretation of a warrior who refused to kneel.
Aerith's smile bloomed, genuine and comforting. She stroked the back of Johnny's hand with her thumb.
"You're right. Don't be a sacrifice, Johnny. Be the one who comes home," Aerith said gently. "Because at home... there is someone waiting for you."
Johnny felt the last remnants of the black smoke vanish completely, absorbed by those simple words.
"Let's go home, Aerith," Johnny said, standing up. "The sky up here is too high. I miss our steel plate roof."