FINAL FANTASY XIII: Reminiscence Tracer Of The Memories

C10: Passanger (Lightning)

Translation credits to Galvea@GameFAQs.

CHAPTER 10: PASSANGER (LIGHTNING)

I’m on a train. I was put on the train, like a piece of cargo. My hands are cuffed, I’m in a straightjacket, and they’re taking me somewhere, along with all these other people…

Everyone’s in their seats, heads and spirits down. The hoods of the restraining suits hide their expressions so I can’t see them, but I know all the faces around me must be coloured with fear and despair. Our peaceful days have been taken away from us, without warning, and we’re about to be exiled, turned out into a world full of danger. Soldiers with guns watch us, alert.

Suddenly, the train sways violently. The soldiers lose their balance, and in that instant I dash from my seat.

I rush at the soldiers, send them sprawling. A soldier falls, loses his grip on a remote control, and I crush it to pieces underfoot; the electrical locks on our handcuffs come undone. The other soldiers are going to come for me any second now. I throw off my restraining suit and make a leap. I land right in the middle of my enemies, and one good kick takes care of the lot.

– Oh. This is a dream.

I realize this as I fire the gun I just stole from an enemy soldier. And as soon as I realize this is a dream, I immediately come to my senses.

It was a dream of “that other world”. It’s been some time since that last happened. I think it’s because I’d been going over the records of my interviews last night. Sazh had given a lively description – mimed it, even – of the way Lightning stole onto the train for the Purge, how she made short work of the soldiers.

In the end, I still haven’t published the results of those interviews.

The bond between Lightning, Sazh, Hope, and the others, the bond they shared – their bond is a story of how men banded together to stand against God, and I know that if I share it with the entire world, it will be a source of courage and hope for the people. But I also know that once I do that, all eyes will be trained on Lightning and her friends, whether they like it or not. It troubles me to disturb their peaceful lives, not when all the fighting’s finally behind them. So in other words, I went to great pains to get my interviews, uncovered the truth, but ultimately couldn’t bring myself to publish my findings. I fail as a journalist, I know.

I won’t deny it. I’m too many steps removed from what a journalist’s supposed to be, these days.

The old me, the person I used to be, I think maybe she died on that battlefield.

I was reporting on the civil war when I almost bought it, and after allowing myself the minimum amount of medical treatment and rest, I went straight back to the battlefield. Those around me tried to stop me, but I didn’t listen. I approached the opposing forces, and did my best to get everyone’s side of the story out, without bias. I made sure to keep a neutral stance, to keep any kind of slant out of my reports, and to avoid setting any side up as “the bad guys”. I was careful to cover every possible angle.

My efforts to stay absolutely neutral paid off, I think, because somehow or other I earned the trust of the various forces. They began to speak frankly to me, and I learned that many of them didn’t want to fight, at all. Only problem was, they never found a way to sit down and talk with their enemies.

That was where I came in. I took on the role of the mediator. I stood in the middle, among all the forces in play, and as I carried out my duties as a reporter, I also delivered messages, arranged for negotiations, fixed for them to get in touch with each other. I was just the go-between, but I was also getting into the neck of things with the principal actors of war. I’m pretty sure I’ve already violated the ethics code all journalists strive to protect, the necessity to take the objective view at all times. Worse still, if things don’t work out, I may very well stand accused of having been complicit in a war crime.