3) Snowballing

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As if on cue, four bright beams of light flash down from above and connect with resonators just above the floor, supplying power. Before the steep incline ahead rises a set of solid stairs matching the color of the floor. Patterned beams of white light flicker on the floor, lining up a path to a pair of sliding doors. Hope's eyes narrow.

"He is here. Calling himself a hero..." His fists clench tighter and Vanille sighs, stepping up to his side with a bright smile.

"He's coming our way." The anger on the boy's face fades into fear and he turns to us sharply.

"What should I do?"

"Tell him what you have to," I reply, Vanille nodding earnestly at my side. Hope frowns, turning to face the stares.

"But nothing I say will change what happened."

Vanille sighs, resting her jaw in the palm of her slender hand.

"We could just run away," she suggests finally. Hope glances up at her, looks over at me, and nods.

"Yeah, let's run."

We hurry toward the stairs that folded down and rush past a cluster of small red robots. The doors the lights lead to slide open. We only hesitate a moment before running into the dark hallway. Vanille rushes ahead, giggling when the next set of doors opens for her.

"Do you even know where you're going?!" Hope calls, breathless as he quickens his pace. I toss a look at him over my shoulder.

"I don't think she cares."

We follow her to the next set of steep patterned stairs, Vanille slowing on the incline and allowing me and the breathless boy at my side to catch up. The floor changes to a design of yellow and blue tiles, twisting into paths that head off in three directions. The room is far more expansive than the one we entered through. Hope looks around the room with wide eyes.

"Whoa," he breathes, clutching his gloved hands together.

Just as I take a breath to speak, a horrific, raspy shriek rattles from the doorway to our left. The door flies open wide and a mass of shuddering blue and violet creatures stumble toward us. The three of us press together tighter as the door to the right raises and the monsters hiss and howl and scream, flailing unrecognizable limbs of gnarled flesh and staggering in their steps.

"What are they?" Hope demands, his elbow knocking onto my ribs.

"Cie'th!" Vanille cries. "L'Cie who failed!" She takes a deep breath; I cling to the ends of my daggers with trembling hands, my heart pounding against my ribs as the Cie'th draw nearer. "This is what happens—when l'Cie don't complete the Focus the fal'Cie give them."

The monsters surround us now, shuddering and stumbling toward their prey. I pull my daggers free, faltering when a shout echoes from the north and Trench Coat comes tumbling into the circle around us unannounced. He raises his fists, winking back at us.

"Let's even these odds!" he shouts.

He extends an arm and ushers us back so that all the Cie'th stand before us. Without further hesitation, he takes a swing at one of the monsters, sending it stumbling backward. He reaches into his heavy coat and pulls the pin on a grenade. Throwing the explosive toward the failed l'Cie, he pushes us back and shelters us from the blast that rocks the floor. I shake my head to clear my vision; the thin gray smoke burns my eyes. Hope loses his balance, falling forward on his hands and knees. Trench Coat walks toward us, frowning.

"How'd you get in here?" he demands, stern. "You've gotta leave." Vanille giggles nervously and I look at Hope pointedly, trying to catch his eye. He refuses to look up at the towering man, choosing instead to glower at the floor. Trench Coat sighs, resting his hands on his hips. 

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