[For the next couple of days since he responded to Waver Velvet's summons, David's spent a few days in Aria's hideout looking over the reports Reno's collected, trying to get an idea of what to expect once the stealth operation is a go. On the 19th, he posts a video to the Network. Judging from the background, he's on Floor Three, the library.]

Arright—so I'm gonna get dis out of da way first, since I think dere's a lotta people who ain't seen me around an' I didn't introduce myself last time.

[He points a thumb at himself.]

I'm da Darin' Little David—but if you ain't into superhero names, David's arright with me. I've been spendin' a lotta my free time in da past year tryin' to get around a problem. I figure I might as well ask about it on da network 'cause I ain't gettin' nowheres—

[David leans off to the side. There's some rustling of something that sounds lacquered and metallic—and when David sits back up, he's got a rifle in his hands that's as big as he is, given he's kinda short. It's painted in the same "olive drab" and dull gold color scheme as the suit of armor.]

Dis thing here? When da Admins brought me to da Tower, dey left me without any ammo for it. Or any of my other stuff. I've been lookin' for somebody who can fix dat for me. Makin' it, creatin' it with magic or somethin', whatever works.

[As he speaks, he lets the video get a good look at the rifle as he turns it over in his hands, but keeping proper trigger discipline and handling at all times. After that, David leans over to the side again, putting the rifle away.]

If you can help me out but don't wanna talk about it over da terminals, lemme know an' well go someplace eavesdroppin'-free.

[... Maybe he should have worded that more like how Waver did when he posted his summons a few days ago.]

—but yeah, uh—anybody dat can help, I'll owe ya one!

[After that, David reaches over to the monitor and cuts the feed. Now, he just has to hope that someone responds ...]

[At first, there's only audio. A guy with a pretty thick Rhode Island accent can be heard muttering between keystrokes and clicks.]

—'Kay, where's da video option on dis thing ...

[And suddenly there's video. Oh, look, it's David, broadcasting from one of the library termninals! And boy, from the way he's slouching, does he look really worn out.]

—yeah, dere, dat works.

[In an attempt to try and not look so weak (and also so that people might understand him better through his fatigue), David straightens up with some effort and takes the unlit cigar out of his mouth and holds it between the fingers of his left hand before continuing.]

'Kay, so. All dat talk about da "Second Magic" and operating on parallel worlds got me curious.

See, we got all kindsa people in dis Tower, from all kindsa different dimensions. An' we're all here 'cause dat dimension-killing whatsit got loose in our home towns. But how many people here have actually been to other dimensions before gettin' brought here?

I ask, 'cause I'm one of 'em. It was a big deal where I'm from—even coined a name for our dimension, Primal Earth. Kinda have to come up with a name for da home team when you got entire alternate realities tryin' to make war on you, yanno? [Here, David briefly holds up two fingers with his other hand to illustrate what he's about to say—and he's actually careful to not do it in the way that's obscene to British people.] Went through two of dose. And we had to deal with dis punk who eats entire dimensions, Rularuu da Ravager. For a time I was thinkin' dat dimension-killing thing was actually him runnin' wild.

[David heaves a sigh as he puts the cigar back in his mouth.]

So yeah. I was actually doin' a lot of scoutin' missions for Portal Corp, helpin' explore unknown dimensions and watch for potential threats when da Tower nabbed me. How 'bout you guys? Any of youse done da dimension-hoppin' thing before?

What do you do when you wake up to realize that you're once again entirely alone?

A promise of change that never happens. In this place, of all places, I was almost happy again. I could have been happy again.

But then I woke up. And I was once again completely alone.

How do you go on from that? Is it even possible?

[Van does not look happy. He is haggard and worn down. Injured, even, though he seems to have come out on top of a fight with whatever monster injured him if the hide slung over his shoulder is any accurate indication. There is a sort of grim determination in his eyes.]

A warning to whoever it was that placed a fon slot seal on me:

When I discover who you are, you will regret it.

[He pauses to catch his breath and then sighs.]

If there is a skilled healer around, I would appreciate your assistance. [Seeing as he can't use any of his own skills because someone cast something on him to keep him from using magic...]

Does anyone else kind of want to stay here instead of go home? If there was a way to make it safe to live here, would anyone else stay?

I am Sephiroth.

[Though which Sephiroth is it? The ID number attached to the post reads S1297993 rather than S1727002, for those who know there are two Sephiroths, are familiar with those numbers, and take the time to notice. Then again, the tone of the post may also be a hint.]

I have been researching the monsters in the Tower. I am curious as to why they are treated so differently than we are, although they likely come from other worlds as well. They have no collars, and they roam freely. They are not wire constructs containing souls, as we are. They were not altered during the glamour failure. They appeared as normal. Many of them are absent during the day. Where do they go? What is their nature? Why are they here?

If you have any ideas or theories, I would be interested in hearing them.

Also, I have noticed that there is a discrepancy in my memories. If there is anyone capable of reading or altering memories, please contact me.

Thank you.