He'd known the soldier that was taken down. He was a good friend, a loyal comrade. They'd fought in many battles in the past, and he'd always been stronger than Zack himself. And now... he was gone. Drowned by the very same siren...

He wanted to reach.

The harp was the only thing he could hear. The only thing that mattered. Managing to come out of the wreckage with little more than a burned back and lower leg, he does his best to swim right through the mess of singed planks and lifeless bodies.

His expression is dazed, vacant, almost euphoric as he moves closer, trying to crawl up the jagged rock.