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Summary
Holy came, but it wasn’t enough. Or so the others claimed. Aerith scanned the perimeter—the demolished foundations, the crying refugees, the unrecognizable streets she once walked—and frowned. Maybe it wasn’t that Holy failed. Maybe it deemed humanity the deadlier threat. Maybe this was the better outcome.
And maybe....
Dread hollowed out her stomach. Aerith rested a hand below her breasts, where a scar resided beneath her clothes.
Maybe everything happened for a reason, she mused for the millionth time.
Everyone lost something during Meteorfall. While folks rebuild, including Tifa, Aerith struggles to come to terms with what she lost.
Or 5 times Aerith falls short and 1 time she doesn't.
