The Reaper, it seems, is ignorant of the three spectators. He doesn't even seem to care that the eight of them are preparing, wounds being tended to, reserves replenished-

"You not only broke the seal to Terra, but you've done me the favor of defeating Garland!" His gaze lands on the tailed boy, amusement dancing behind his eyes. "Ah, Zidane... You truly are an extraordinary Genome, worthy of my affection~"

'Zidane' snarls, raising his knives again. "What're you doing here, Kuja?!"

"That's not a very nice way to greet your brother, Zidane."

"Shut up! You're no brother of mine!" Kuja snorts, turning to face Garland now with the air of a put-upon servant.

"Oh, my! Such ferocity! Why, Master Garland, I do believe he intends to turn against Terra..." There's that faint, gloating sing-song quality again, as though he's winding up to some grand punchline...

Garland, even mortally wounded, is having none of it. "Kuja... what are you scheming?"

The Reaper's face is the picture of injured innocence, laughter building in his throat again. "Scheming? Me? No, just defeating the enemies of Terra!" he turns, facing the assembled party once more, an orb of flame forming in one hand, black at the center- "Come on, now! You can sleep alongside the souls of Terra... for all eternity!"

And like that, the battle is joined. There's an explosion of magic, a Flare Star cast into the center of the eight- but it's not enough. Kuja's not as strong as Garland was, that's abundantly clear. There's a scream as the dragoon drops out of the sky, spear-first, leaving him bleeding. A sword is barely dodged, leaving a deep gash, a few silver-white feathers shorn off as he just dodges a whirling blade overhead-

Only to be struck by a twin assault of Flare and Holy, thrown violently backwards by the child mages, working in tandem. He emerges from the smoke burned, clearly in pain-

So why is he still laughing?

Overhead, the Hilda Garde stabilizes, and begins to descend.