He'd done it. Finally, he'd done it.

He could never tell anyone he'd done it.

Quickly, Cloud gathered all the debris from his room and shoved what he could under his bed. He climbed up to jam the window open, though the crackle of electricity that lingered didn't seem to want to dissipate.

Now he just needed to...

Cloud didn't know what to do. But he couldn't tell anyone what he'd done.

So...

He grabbed a stray black feather from his bed and clutched it. Cloud hadn’t expected the feathers, but they made sense to him.

Finally, he'd done it.