Jecht was quiet much of the way in. Zanarkand was always a trip down memory lane, a place of deja-vu. Blink and you miss it, the memories of yourself taking this path years ago, on a different world. That was one thing on his mind. The second was the last time he had been here, even without the glimpses of the past to remind him. That was when he had offered himself, to become Braska's Final Aeon.

He tried not to dwell on that too much. There was already enough going through his mind without that little detail making itself known.

At the pause on the trip, Jecht hoisted the sword over his shoulder, glancing around the entrance. "Would bet on it being there, yer? Like it'd make it easy for us."