It seemed to Edge like years since he last opened his eyes.  Slowly,
he turned over, hoping that this time, he would be able to sense where he
was, or how he got there.
	No... he knew how he got there.  Cardia Lemieux.
	If only he knew where 'here' was...
	Edge opened his eyes, fearing what he would see...
	Once, Edge had 'awoken' to a battle, where man fought against
machine.  Great bipedal creatures made entirely of metal and long,
glistening tubes mounted on their backs.  From these tubes Edge could
see a brief flash, then, in the distance, the fiery blossom of an
explosion of some kind.	 Men littered the battlefield in machines of their
own... strange devices with four wheels that moved without horse or chocobo,
with the same glistening tubes on their backs, only smaller and quieter.
The noise... oh... the deafening roar of destruction filled Edge's head so
that he couldn't stand...
	Edge next 'awoke' within a construct that resembled those found in
the Colliseum.  Huge, granite pillars supported an immense ceiling that
seemed to loom on forever.  As Edge looked about, he could see that he was
in a long, dark hallway, which radiated a cool blue-white light at the end.
Something appeared to block that light... a man... no, a beast.  A large
demon with broad wings like a dragon and talons for hands.  As Edge turned,
he looked into the faces of four men and women... they appeared to be
wearing something about their necks... pendants, that seemed to glow from
within... these four advanced past Edge and approached the great beast.
The flare of magic filled the room, then all went dark.
	Edge had no means of telling how much time had passed between his
'encounters', nor had he any means of affecting them in any way.  Edge felt
light-headed and woozy, barely able to concentrate on anything...
spinning... swaying...
	As Edge rolled on his side, he thought he felt something underneath
him.  He groped with his fingers, not wanting to open his eyes to face
another horror.  It felt cool, soft... like grass.
	Edge gasped, but drew in no air.  It seemed as though he had no
need for breath, wherever he was.  Carefully, fearfully, Edge opened his
eyes.
	
	The afternoon sun bore down on the grassy meadow, giving it warmth.
Water ran its course down a small river, and the light seemed to sparkle off
its surface.  Flowers of many colours grew all about, and the lush trees
bore fruit for whomever chose to claim it.  A bird sang as it flew overhead,
seeming to greet the Earth and thank it for what She has provided.
	Edge sat under one of those trees, staring into the sky and wishing
that he would somehow find his way home... wherever that was.
	Suddenly, Edge heard the sound of something falling into the water a
short distance up the stream.  Whatever it was that fell, it seemed large...
Edge could guess by the sound it made.  Edge stood from his resting place,
and walked upstream to investigate.
	What he saw was a young boy, not older than 15, who seemed to have
fallen from a log bridge suspended above.  The boy thrashed about in the
water for a short time, then got his bearings and stood in the knee-depth
water.  Edge was baffled that the boy was still alive.
	The boy stood only five-and-a-half feet tall, with a tuft of
chestnut hair that was bound by a violet headband.  He was dressed in blue
overalls and a white undershirt that was torn and tattered.  The boy looked
about, and said aloud, "I have to get home!"  He then began to follow the
water downstream.
	Edge was surprised to hear words, for none of his visions spoke
before.  Curious, Edge followed the boy.
	The boy walked a good distance, and then another voice came from
nowhere.
	"Timon... Timon..."
	The boy snapped to attention, and looked about.  "Who... who's
there?"  he asked, but his question was left unanswered.  The boy shrugged,
and continued downstream.
	Timon; Edge memorized the name as he walked.
	The boy then came across a large rock which blocked his passage
father downstream.  There was nothing extraordinary about the rock save for
one important detail.
	The hilt of a sword protruded from the top of it.
	The strange voice came once more, "Take the sword, Timon..."
	Timon's eyes lit up with excitement.  "Okay... sure."
	Timon climbed up the rock and, grasping the hilt firmly, gave
a gentle tug.  The hilt slid smoothly from its sheath, revealing a blade
coated in rust.
	The sky suddenly filled with a bright light, and Edge wedged his
eyes shut, expecting this vision to end.
	A voice came through the darkness, seeming directed at Edge.
	"Excuse me, sir, but who are you?"