Setzer stood at the window, gazing out to the near deserted
streets of South Figaro.  It wasn't as he had remembered it... but it
seemed that there was no warrant of any sort out for his or any of his
friends' arrests.

        Setzer shook his head sadly, eyes lowering in introspection.
'Why did you do it, Edgar?' he asked himself.  Then he smirked suddenly,
gripping the edge of the window with tight fingers.  'How am I supposed
to know?  Of those of us who slew Kefka, each had their reflection.
Locke and Celes.  Sabin and Edgar.  Mog and Umaro.  Strago and Relm (and
Shadow, he added thoughtfully).  Cyan and Gau.  And of course, everyone
doted upon Terra.  She needed no reflection.  But what of me?  I spent
the greatest adventure of my life gambling... and the payoff wasn't
quite what I had hoped for.'

        Setzer stepped away from the window, aiming himself toward the
plush bed in which he rested.  All of a sudden, it seemed... empty.
Hard.  He would take no comfort from the bed that night.  Setzer rustled
around in the nightstand, drawing out a bottle of the finest wine he
could purchase here in occupied territory.  'This is to you, Daryl.  The
best friend a guy could have had.'

        And with that, Setzer proceeded to get drunk.