[Gillian, very quietly] ... my son... He has not contacted me in several days. I can... only hope that he and Genesis are all right.

... ... ...

[A little more loudly] ... I am concerned for those who have returned to childhood.

... 'even if the morrow is barren of promises'...

...

...

Angeal. Where are you? Are you safe?

... it is over.

...

Thank you.

( Private to Angeal, unhackable. )

... there is much to read and little time.

( Private to self, easily hackable. )

... why have I, too, not disintegrated?

( Private to Zack Fair. )

( Private to self, somewhat hackable. )

[There's a violent wind howling, and the rain seems to be especially hard and loud]

[Gillian, sound exhausted] ... it never rained like this in Banora...

Yes... I did... ... always imagine it would look like Midgar.