For just a second, it's like Aerith is her own ministering angel, come to usher her peacefully into... whatever she has now, the strange limbo of the cauldron where stars are born- and die.

Mercury shakes that thought off. Flights of fancy aren't really like her anymore. Not even now.

"I didn't know," she admits. "So we continue on like this, after everything else?" A future after the end after all? It's impossible to believe, really, yet it seems to be right in front of her eyes.