The hall surrounded him. Empty, he sat in company. Not another body moved about the chamber, but two souls occupied that room.

Terra sat alone, indeed. No physical body to comfort him, but the other soul in front of him. Elegant, beautiful, sleek. She was waiting for him, and he was all but ready to give himself to her. All but ready, save one thing.

His eyelids drew closed, fluttering momentarily, the caterpillar becoming the butterfly.

'Make me remember' he whispered into thin air. His eyes widened again. He was ready. His arms rose in front of him, a brief, loving creak and light knock later, and his hands touched down on his beauty. His fingers brushed against the silky ivory, his nails gently tempting the black keys, his hands positioning themselves along the bow of his vessel. He stopped, stationary, unmoving, for a moment. Everything was still. His anguish and his bitter resentment drew through him, and he began to play.

The moment of silence was broken, and Terra's hands took flight over the board of the piano. His feet began movement underneath, rising and falling against pedals, elongating and killing notes short. Power of life and death over sound at his command. His only weapon was himself, as he saved and killed the tune.

He didn't know what he was playing. He didn't know if it was beautiful or abysmal--It had been programmed into his mind, it was more than likely flawless. Sublime--and he didn't care, he played all the same. His fingers flittered and his hands danced across and over each other, flickering against keys instantly before darting away; a chaste affection withdrawn and returned in an instant.

Terra was lost in the concerto; he failed to realize his single audience. Blade viewed him above, watching his fingers dart and flit over the keys, producing a composition that Blade could only describe as 'Astounding' – Terra evidently had his entire being into this piece, and Blade would have been moved if otherwise disposed. But no.

This was a construct. This wasn't real. The music wasn't real, the notes weren't real. Any emotion he felt for the tune was not real.

As if stirred by Blade's self admittance, Terra abruptly stopped, on a low note. His feet dropped and the final, dark note of the piece absorbing into the room swallowed by the acoustics and spat back out, it lasted for a good ten seconds before Terra stood up, embarrassed. The note drew out and died. The song was over.

'Blade...' He had nothing to say.

'Well played. You did this before?' The Captain called down. His voice calm, but impacting.

'Thank you.... Yes... I was never that good, though.'

'Indeed. This place... can do that'

Silence. Terra admired his feet. Blade sighed an exasperated sigh,

'You hate it here, don't you? The real. You hate knowing the lie.'

'Yes' His answer was instant and full of conviction, he looked back up at the Captain, still avoiding his eyes, 'I wish I was still as ignorant as the rest'

Blade avoided the argument, 'Well you're not, and now you have a job to do. There's a file for you. Get ready and get in there. I'll give you more orders when you do.'

Terra spat a mumbled acknowledgement before heading for the door, and the way back to the Hovercraft. As he approached it, Blade called him back. He turned to his Captain, his face dull and uncaring.

'The piece' he head jerked minutely back at the piano, 'What was it called'

In that moment, the butterfly became the moth, and Terra met Blade's gaze, with cold, dead, gray eyes staring into his superior's red orbs.

'The Heart Asks Pleasure First'