Helios reappeared in his room, the dark corridor dissipating behind him with a whisper. He carefully pced Cloud onto his bed, his expression grim as he observed the warrior’s pallor. Cloud’s breathing was shallow, his chest rising and falling in uneven intervals, a clear sign of how tenuous his dition had bee. Helios ched his fists, frustration c through him.

  Cloud needed help, and he urgently. Helios khat Olympus Coliseum was the only pce where he could find what was necessary to stabilize Cloud’s fractured heart. However, the uainty of time flow between worlds weighed heavily on his mind. If he left for even a short while auro find days or weeks had passed in Radiant Garden, it could unravel everything. Malefit and Sephiroth, already suspicious of him, would take his absence as a sign of betrayal. The delicate bance he had maintained so far would colpse.

  Helios sank into a chair, his mind rag. Time… The thought lingered, heavy and oppressive. He had seen firsthand how differently time flowed between worlds. The Realm of Darkness had stripped him of any crete sense of its passage. It had been Aqua whose experience he witnessed had expio him how it worked. Aqua had spent a decade in that void without even realizing it, her perception distorted by the eternal night that ed her surroundings.

  He khat some worlds, like Twilight Towiny Isnds, Radiant Garden, and The World That Never Was, maintained a sistent flow of time. But Olympus Coliseum was different—it existed in its own uemporal state. A single hour spent there could mean days or even weeks elsewhere. Helios couldn’t risk it.

  Cloud’s faint groan pulled Helios’s attention back to the present. The blond’s dition was worsening by the moment, and Helios’s window for a was closing. He rubbed his temples, f himself to think clearly.

  How much time does Cloud have left? That was the first question he o answer. If he could determine how long Cloud could endure, he could decide whether he had enough time to address the problem here in Radiant Garden before leaving.

  Helios stood abruptly, pag the room as his mind ed. If he couldn’t leave Cloud unattended, perhaps there was a way to speed things up in this world—some way to tilt the odds in his favor without risking everything. He turned back to Cloud, pg a hand on his chest and summoning his Keybde. Its cold, metallic surface glinted faintly in the dim light.

  The Keybde pulsed as Helios focused, eling his energy into sensing the state of Cloud’s heart. The fragments of Cloud’s fractured heart responded weakly, flickering like embers struggling tnite. Helios wi the fragility he felt. It was worse than he had initially realized. The heart wasn’t just splintered; it was on the verge of colpsiirely. He estimated, at best, that Cloud had only three to four days before his heart would pletely shatter.

  Not enough time, Helios thought grimly. Was there a way to stabilize him?

  He withdrew his hand, summoning a dark corridor once more. He needed answers, and there was only one pce to get them: Merlin’s study. If there was any knowledge in Radiant Garden about maniputing the heart or healing it, it would be in Merlin’s colle of magical tomes. Maybe there might be a spell to slow time.

  Helios sat slumped over Merlin’s desk, the dim light from a magitern casting flickering shadows over his face. His eyes, weary from hours of sing through tless texts, fell on a single passage that made him freeze in pce:

  "Only a heart mend another heart. The e betwees holds the key to healing fractures and damage caused by darkness or meddling."

  Helios sighed heavily, closing his eyes for a moment. He had already known this—Cloud’s dition could only be stabilized by eg his heart to ahe text merely firmed what he’d dreaded: Cloud’s survival depended on finding a pure, strong patible heart to support his own.

  His mind raced. This wasn’t the first case of a damaged heart in need of healing. Ventus had survived because Sora’s infa had instinctively reached out to him, a miraculous and rare occurrence. In Kairi’s case, her heart had sought refuge within Sora’s when her own world fell to darkness, allowio escape harm.

  Helios’s gaze darkened. Could I do it myself? He pced a hand over his chest, where the orb taining Kurai’s essehrummed faintly. His heart was steeped in darkness, its bance precariously maintained by Kurai’s presence. If he allowed Cloud’s heart to seek refuge within his, the darkness in his own might overwhelm Cloud’s entirely, hastening his deterioration rather than stabilizing him.

  ‘No,’ Helios thought firmly. ‘It’s too dangerous. My heart isn’t the answer.’

  As the thought took root, his eyes darted to the er of the study where Cloud’s unscious form rested on a jured cot. His breathing remained shallow, his pallrowing worse. Time was slipping away, and Helios felt the weight of every passing moment crushing him.

  Just as his mind ed for an ahe door to the study creaked open. Helios stiffened, his gaze snapping toward the sound, his hand instinctively moving to summon his Keybde. He rexed only slightly when he saw Skuld step inside, her eyes wide with curiosity.

  “Helios?” she asked softly, her tone uain. “What are you doing here so te?”

  Helios straightened, closing the book he’d been p over. He forced a faint smile to mask his turmoil. “Just… studying,” he replied vaguely. “What are you doing up?”

  Skuld hesitated before stepping closer, her gaze flig to the stacks of books and scrolls oable. “I couldn’t sleep,” she admitted. “I thought maybe I could practiagic.”

  Helios leaned ba his chair, watg her for a moment. Her presence, so full of light and innoce, sparked an idea. It was reckless, possibly cruel, but it might be the only solution.

  His mind raced as the pieces fell into pce. Skuld’s heart was untouched by darkness, brimming with purity and light. If anyone’s heart could temporarily stabilize Cloud’s, it was hers. The thought made him feel a pang of guilt, but he quickly shoved it aside. This isn’t abht —it’s necessary.