Deep underground, Lahabrea and Igeyorhm had made it to the depths of the Palace of the Dead. To where the Palace was covered in crystal, and the beings were only those people made of crystal. They were easy to defeat - the problem was that they did not die. No, more would be born out of the land itself.

“Tch,” Igeyorhm muttered, as she swiveled on one of the corpses. “I dislike this, Lahabrea.”

“Would you like it better if it was icy?” Lahabrea replied, oddly earnest, as another body crumbled to the ground.

Angrily, Igeyorhm walked past him - they were at a dead end. “Ice and snow are not all I like, Lahabrea.” Did he really think she was that simple? Lahabrea followed, biting his lip. Both of them floated, not letting any of the crystal dare claim them. “And I dislike this because of their abilities.”

Watching some others stumbling, Lahabrea tilted his head. “Having copies of ourselves would be quite… hm. Wait a second.” He shrugged a hand towards one of the crystal dolls, a little curious. “Isn’t that armour Garlean?”

Igeyorhm shot ice forward - the shards of it piercing the body. They both moved forward, to examine it. To rip at what seemed to be armour, but actually, it was their skin. Fire and ice made it easy to remove. Lahabreas’ gaze turned up to the beings’ head, though, and his long green hair. The whole creature was teal. “It has one of those broken horns, at least.”

What Lahabrea called a broken horn was what most would call a third eye. He tapped it a few times, eyes becoming concerned. “It’s similar to the others.” The older ones. Not the ones like Minfilia, who the two of them had seen once or twice. Was this why they had to investigate this?

They finished dismantling the creature, and moved onwards. “What would you call it?” Lahabrea asked?

“A mirage,” Igeyorhm replied, trying to ignore the bitter feeling in her stomach. If there could be one of those Garleans here, what else could be here? And weren’t Garleans newer then the crystal growths? They’d had to deal with them before. Or, at least, another shard of her had needed to. It could overcome, and it could over-run even the best efforts of the Ascian. Not only that, but they were useless for a rejoining! Igeyorhm knew about what was useless for a rejoining!

They continued downwards. Until they came to the bottom - the long-dead corpse of a demon towering over them.

Unlike when Minfilia and her crew had arrived here, however, the two of them had an inkling of what this being was. It was Lahabrea who stopped first, biting his tongue. The crystal people on its’ wings were still pierced, still trembling. Igeyorhm vocalized what Lahabrea held back.

“…it’s been here all along?!”

“Seems it has,” Lahabrea mumbled. “What we bastardized to create our Lord.” A silence fell over them both, Lahabrea hovering forward.

Igeyorhm closed her eyes. She remembered the lectures from the unsundered. That they had discovered these gods from even before Amaurot - that they could bring salvation. And that this one - Chaos - would keep the world together. Her eyes opened again, feeling the comforting hold of Zodiark peering into her soul once again. It had grown so weak, in recent times. Perhaps this was not a corpse. Perhaps it was just a statue, made by her ancestors? Yes, that had to be it.

For Chaos could not have been alive when they attempted to create an avatar of them. That wouldn’t have worked. This statue, though, made her heart rise, make her confidence rise. Perhaps even the crystalized people worshipped the same God?

Igeyorhms’ relaxation broke, as always, because of Lahabrea. A loud crumbling sound echoed though the room, and the smell of dust filled her nose. She snapped to look at Lahabrea - and he’d pulled a small orb from the frozen Chaos.

It was small, and grey, and pulsating slightly. Every pulsation, the room seemed to fill with that same soothing feeling that Igeyorhm got from looking up at Chaos. Her hands shaking, Igeyorhm took a few hasty steps forward. “What— Lahabrea, are you messing with—”

“—There are two options, Igeyorhm,” Lahabrea said - his expression darkening. His eyes darted to his necklace again. “Either this is not the true corpse, and this is just a replica heart.”

And the other? Lahabrea gave a smirk, confidence his only shield from the horror on Igeyorhms’ face. “Or we’ve found that Hydaelyn was a liar - or even the Unsundered! Imagine that!”

Igeyorhm slapped Lahabrea - knocking him against Chaos. “Get a hold of yourself! What in the hell are you planning, Lahabrea!” Ice formed in her hands, trying to freeze him again - and Lahabrea slipped out of her grip.

His body was bruised. Oh, Emet-Selch wouldn’t like that, Lahabrea thought. But he let out a laugh, bitter and broken. “The next Calamity is coming, Igeyorhm. And with this, we might even awaken our missing leader.”

With that, Lahabrea teleported away. It was nearly time to help Garleans, after all - what, with some nonsense attacking those Scions. A pity. He’d spent time with them. But it’d turn out for the best.

All of this was for the best. And now he could feel Zodiarks’ calming influence, stronger then he had for far too long. Igeyorhm remained behind - and quietly knelt. She did not often pray, but Zodiark gift her strength… she knew she had to report this to one of the two Unsundered. They’d need to punish Lahabrea. He’d gone too far - if he returned the orb, perhaps his punishment would be lessened.

They really didn’t need this now. Raising another Lahabrea would be frustrating, at the very least! Igeyorhm continued to pray to the statue, trying to remember more.

Trying to remember if they truly based Zodiark on Chaos.

Time passed, and Minfilia was still frozen in place. She had not expected how… close Belias would keep her. He had re-secured his mask, but as the dusk set, he removed it. The two of them were at one of the cavern openings, one which looked over Silvertear Lake. The corpse of Midgardsomhr was slightly aglow, wrapped around his metal murderer. It was a wonderful view. Minfilia had a thought, a question, but Belias almost seemed to read her mind.

He sat, fluff around her. “I still do not know if you are awake, Minfilia Warde.” He used her full name. She did not know why. “I carved out this view for myself. Before I came to Eorzea, I watched over a grand sea, at the edge of the world.

Ah. It is a metaphor. The world does not have an edge - that I know of.” Belias then gently placed his mask between them. None would be able to see them from up here. “Perhaps I should fix it. I have held onto it ever since the Calamity which ended the life of those I cherished.”

Looking to her, Minfilia could study his face. He looked pale, ashen - and more tired then she expected. His eyes burned as if they were clusters of fire aether, and a scar hovered over one of them. His face was almost humanoid, if not for the sheep-like nose and ears. He was almost cute, if he did not look close to tears at every moment. Like some form of kicked dog, then. Belias gave her a warm smile. “This was the face of the man sacrificed to me. I…” Belias hesitated, looking away again, “I do not know where I end and he begins. Or perhaps I am him.”

It must be complicated, being summoned in this Ivalician method. “His name was Basch. He was a knight to the one who carried your soul.” Was Belias truly going to tell her more? “She had lost her kingdom, due to the invading Empire.

None knew until it was too late that the Gods were meddling with such matters.” Sorrow entered his voice, and Minfilia focused so hard on his words. She was still stilled, still a simple statue. “Perhaps we could have seen the signs if I had been a better man.

…I fell in love with one of them. An Ascian called Nabriales— he had possessed the corpse of a dead nobleman.”

Nabriales— the one Minfilia met? Her throat felt somehow drier, her blood could have frozen more. He had been so sentimental, and was using the Ivalician summoning method to bring on Primal… oh, how she wished she could tell Belias. A small flicker of flame appeared on one of his fingers, as he picked up some nearby rocks. He was melting them into some form of metallic glue. “I fell for him. I doubt he felt the same for me. He aided us - aided the Princess Ashelia. She wished to reclaim her kingdom, and would use anything to do so. Even the weapons given to us by the Gods. It was during this quest that Belias and Basch became one.”

Belias sighed, as the rock turned into a pulp-like substance - shimmering with a silver glow. “Nethicite. That is the weapon she used - but she was not the one who used it, in the end. The gods taunted another youth, one who suffered though war and loss.

I don’t think it was just the manipulation of the Gods which drove him to madness,” Belias admitted, sighing. His mane seeming to flicker with magic. “No… he always had a madness in his eyes. He spoke of things happening wrong.

Oh, Vaan… would that I could have saved you from yourself.”

While Belias did not notice it, Minfilia noticed a soft pair of footsteps. She could not turn to see who it was - to see it was the quiet Tonberry Penono, listening in. Sitting down, trying not to be noticed. Belias continued explaining. “Nabriales was not the only Ascian. After— after Vaan unleashed the power of the Gods, and the skies began to fill with ash and ice… the other shed their body. I never learned their name, but they left their body to be buried under the ice.”

The Fifth Umbral Calamity - so it was closer to now then it could have been. That would mean Belias had lived since then, though… was he older then Lightning?

“I believe the origin of that Calamity is now an airship graveyard. I survived, for I am an Esper. I carried my princess’ corpse away from her place of death, back to her families’ tomb. And I…” His hands now on the mask, Belias let out a loud sigh. He was crying openly now, silently. “My brother. This was his. He had realised, I think, that something was wrong.

I wonder if he forgave me, in the end.”

The sun had set, and the moon loomed over them. Minfilia wished she could give Belias a hug— before suddenly, Belias froze. The small Tonberry had made her way over to put a hand to him. Her small flipper trembled, and her gaze was still wide. Belias’ hand moved to her, and he picked her up - their eyes meeting. “You— how much did you hear, little one?”

There was only a small grunt, the Tonberry trembling but nodding. Gently, Belias parted her coat a little… she was uninjured. Still, he put her down, and continued to glue the horn back onto the mask. The silvered metal went solid quickly, leaving a large crack in it. It could not be put on yet - Penono moved to touch it, before she whispered.

Her voice was nearly gone - though it could still be heard though the crisp air. “…Basch…? I— I’ve seen you… in my dreams…”

“…You have.” It was a statement, not a question, but Belias lowered his head and fluff both. “What have you seen?”

She nuzzled into the fur, seeming to relax a little. “Our past life. It’s me - Penelo,” Penono said, her voice still not raising about a raspy gasp for air. “I was poisoned… I had to fight for Nym.”

There was a long pause - before Penono gripped to Belias, burying herself more into his fluff. “I missed you.” She looked up at his demasked face, and smiled in that adorable Tonberry way. “I— still have visions. I can’t do much anymore… but… can I stay?”

Belias did not hesitate, he nodded sagely. “I would not be an ally if I refused.”

Penono lit up, before coughing horrifically. Her voice was mostly faded, but she mouthed a thank you. Belias then looked from her, to Minfilia. “It was her deeds that brought you here. Soon, we shall have aid to free her. When that happens, we shall need to figure out what to—”

—suddenly, there was a soft ringing noise. It was coming from Minfilia, and for a moment, Belias thought she was talking. But, no. No human could make that sound. His sheepy ears pressed down again, as he realised what it was. Her Linkpearl, under the crystal. After a moment, he reached up a hand to one of her long ears.

Before lowering it again. It should be possible to retrieve it, but would it shatter the crystal? Would it scar her ear? No, alas, she would need to miss this call. Belias hoped it wasn’t important.

Belias was wrong. The ringing stopped, and the group continued to look out across Silvertear lake. “There is a story about that lake,” Belias said, gently. “One which the Gigas believe. Would you like to hear it, Penelo?”

The Tonberry nodded, crawling so she was comfortable. And so, Belias began to talk to the three - making sure to make sure Minfilia knew he was still talking to her.

A few more days passed. Belias still carried Minfilia around - and, right now, he sat with those who she’d sacrificed herself for. None of them had stirred - Lightning had not moved from their sides either. Nor had she spoken to Belias, silently wandering between the seven. She seemed to linger over one in paticular - a woman who could pass for her sibling. Lightning sometimes put a hand to her, over her heart.

There was nothing to be said.

That is, until one began to stir. A larger man, who Lightning sometimes punched. Even punching them didn’t seem to wake them up. It had begun when, in the morning light, the larger man shifted ever-so-slightly. His messy off-blond hair covered his face, and hid when his eyes snapped open.

Lightning, however, noticed it. And gave a sharp gasp inwards, suddenly standing. Of all the people— no, no. She should be thankful. With him awake, others could wake soon. Belias moved Minfilia back a tiny bit, sensing an aetherial shift. Penono hid in his mane - following his lead. 

Both of them were right to move back - because as the man sat up, Lightning was right to questioning him. “Did you hear the others in there? Are they alive? Or is it only you?”

The man shook his head a little, trying to focus - before looking at Lightning. And a spark of horror entered his eyes. He tried to speak - at first, all that came out was garbled crystal sounds. As he managed to speak, his gaze turned to all the others. Quietly, he lowered his head. “They’re all…”

“Obviously.”

Lightning stood. She towered over the other - but the other touched his chest, noting the blackened scars. Yup, still there. But his hand was normal right now, if not covered in the same blackness? Huh. And Lightning didn’t seem to have aged a day. Still in a haze, he noticed the big fluffy sheep-like Belias, and gave a little smile. “Hey. ‘m Snow. Did you save me…?”

Belias paused. Before shaking his head. “Do I not scare you?”

“Nah, I’ve seen worse,” Snow replied, before holding his head a little. “Everything’s a blur… urgh.” He looked back to Lightning, who was growing more and more impatient. “I don’t remember anything from when I wasn’t myself. I didn’t even know— they were with me?” His gaze focused on the one Lightning seemed to be focused on, as well.

“They’re not dead,” Lightning replied, curtly. “They were cured, as well. None of you are Cie’th anymore.”

…wait. Snow touched his scars again, and could feel familiar energy under them. “So you’re saying I’m not a Cie’th? At all? No connection to any of ‘em?” As Lightning nodded, his scars began to bubble, a black liquid dripping from them. It solidified - turning to a blackened ice - and Belias could smell the danger within. Quietly, he moved Minfilia even closer to himself. Snow could already tell that Lightning, well—

“—So, Light. What’s the last thing you remember of home?” Snow asked, trying not to show his worry. (It was not anger. No, he was more afraid.)

Lightning looked him over. “What does it matter?” As she stood, at just the right angle with Belias’ light, Snow could see it.

Lightnings’ eyes were hollow. Crystal. They were painted. Without thinking, Snow suddenly punched at her. Lightning caught his fist, expression unchanging. “Snow. Don’t do this.”

“What did you do with Lightning?!” Snow asked back, trying to push his fist past her hand. Blackened blood dripped from his hand.

Quietly, Lightning looked him over. “I did nothing with her. You’ve forgotten. I failed my Focus. But I was given a second chance to live.

I had to trust you with Serah— with everybody.” Every word was filled with bitterness. This really wasn’t their place, Belias decided, but remained to make sure they did not try and fight too much. “I died, Snow. But then I came back, and you and them were stuck as Cie’th - how do you think I felt?”

Oh— oh. Snow seemed to lose some of his bravado, and his fist lowered. “So you’re— oh.” His other hand rubbed over his chin, thinking. “I didn’t think it was true. That you’d give your life to stop the manikin.”

“Well, I did,” Lightning replied. Letting herself let go of his fist. “And I ended up a monster.

I made another mistake, Snow,” Lightning said, admitting something she wouldn’t most of the time. “By saving all of you, I ruined the life of another.” With a swift head motion, she pointed to Belias - and Minfilia. “That girl. She took the L’cie curse.”

“Did you know she would?” Snow asked, as he tried to stand up. Nope, his legs felt too stiff. Lightning shook her head. “Can we save her?”

“Currently,” Belias said, “we are retrieving a being who may be able to help. However, if what I have learned is true, it is a stop gap measure.

…Lightning. Snow. I will forgive you for breaking my mask,” he said, focused on Lightning, “if you save Minfilia. She is— she is important to me.”

Before Lightning could reply (for she would agree awkwardly), Snow gave a firm nod. “She did this for us. This is the least we can do for her, right? And besides, we’ve got to keep an eye on Serah and the others.”

Serah was the one they had an eye on, then? Belias gave a soft grunt. Lightning sat on Snows’ bed, closing her eyes - letting out a long sigh. “They’ll wake up eventually. They have to. They’re all fighters.”

Snow had turned to Belias again, though, with a soft smile. “Anything we can do for you?”

“Yes, actually,” Belias replied. “Explain what you meant by manikin.”

“Right. You’re not from…” Lightning began, trailing off. “It was a long time ago. We were summoned by some Gods—” Belias gave a long snarl, and Lightning had a look of understanding in her eyes— “who wished to have an everlasting war. The manikin were a side-effect. They were the first warriors, but they didn’t do what was wanted of them.

And when they attacked those of us who were summoned, they didn’t stop. Every cycle, they’d grow stronger.”

“The cycles,” Snow said with a frown, “were a fancy word for us getting amnesia every so often. Or so I heard, I came in after Light had vanished.”

“Yes, thank you,” Lightning said sarcastically. “Something at the end of the cycles liked to devour what energy was left by fighting. The leftovers went to the manikin. In the cycle we struck in, some of us realised they’d over-run everybody.

It was us or them. And all of us who didn’t have a home to go back to - we decided we’d do something good with our lives.” Lightning looked down to her ever-so-slightly shimmering hands. “We gave our lives to get them down to a managable number.”

Minfilia wished she could speak up. Was that what she saw down in the Palace of the Dead? It was, but she could not learn that yet. Belias, however, had another question. Curiousity painted his body. “You were not the only one?”

“No. But I’m the only one who’s still alive and who hasn’t allied with Ascian.” A pause, before Lightning looked Belias right in the mask. “We’re immortal.”

Snow spoke up, a dumb little smirk on his face. “Hey, so are we! I mean, us who were summoned for the final cycle. Except for those who’ve decided to die, I mean. And quite a few of them have decided to. Even before the whole thing with the Ascians and their Gods.”

The two seemed to be speaking a different language, the way they communicated. But Minfilia had to remember it. If they predated Ascian, they were older then even Belias…

“Did any other from our home…?” Lightning asked. Snow shook his head, and Lightning relaxed for a moment. “Good. I was the only one in my group, as well. We were all from different places.” Even now, she was making sure that Minfilia could listen, could understand. But she looked suddenly tired, and stood to leave.

Snow didn’t stop her. “That’s our Light. She has a word limit, I swear.

Oh, uh, Belias.” Belias raised his ears, and Snow looked to him and Minfilia. “She’s either awake or dreaming. It doesn’t hurt to be a statue - or so Serah told me. And also she heard the same from Fang and Vanille. Did you put them in the same bed by chance, or…?”

Ah, yes. The lesbians, Belias had assumed. They had come out of that beast - that Cie’th, he assumed now - that they were girlfriends. He nodded to himself - so very thankful he was right. “They would not leave each others’ side.

It is the meaning of the word partners, isn’t it?” A beat. “I am not implying they are not close. No… I once cared for one, in a way above simple love. He called us partners.

…It is romantic, to me.”