He'd been flying quite the distance along town before he felt the need for a break, finding a generally open area and swooping down to land heavily upon the strange and foreign ground. There was that light feeling again, one that always blossomed whenever he took fight, and the larger white wing stretched out.

Flying... when exactly was the last time he flew like that? In Midgar? Maybe sometime after that... he couldn't quite remember. It felt... nice. Far better than what he first suspected when he realized he even had the wings. He was a monster, but smaller victories were still victories, and he would take any chance he could find.

Zack wanted that for him, right? It was a nice way to repay him for carrying out his favour, even if the younger SOLDIER hadn't enjoyed it.

He didn't even hear anyone behind him. Couldn't care even if he wanted to. For the first time in years... he was at peace with himself.