Aerith looked back at Ienzo's eyes. He was young, she realised. He acted so old, so quietly mature, but his face was younger than Lea's.

"To do alchemy like that," she said, quietly, "you must have defied the natural cycle of the planet." Or tried to, anyway. It wasn't actually possible to do it and succeed. It would mean plucking every bit of someone back out of the lifestream, drawing life out of other things to reconstruct them. The toll would be massive.

"So what was it?"