[Dion's brow draws together. The thought of their survival had gnawed at Dion's mind, yes. But just as he had feared, he had also been confident. He had seen Ifrit and the Phoenix surmount much in the short time he had known them. Surely they would have found a way to overcome the onslaught without their arrival.

Or... perhaps not. Joshua, at least, had eventually fallen. Perhaps his intervention had ultimately delayed the inevitable?

It's not exactly a comforting thought, though. And so Dion pushes it away in favor of moving along. Anything to avoid the chill that works its way up his spine. He hates to fathom a world without Joshua.]

Here is far better than the alternative. [You know, dead.] Here is another chance to live on, and to fight for a future that we may yet see.