War plans had to be drafted. They only had a little time until Gaius and the Ultima Weapon could be unleashed, after all. Yda was called in - even if she had not been in Garlemald for quite some time, she knew their battle tactics. And those plans were why Minfilia was now rowing a boat, by herself, to visit Llyud. She had not mentioned the siren, of course, but knew they deserved to be warned. So many ships would be used in the blockade, and it would likely frighten the survivor of their genocide. And, so, Minfilia was in her boat, hoping that the siren would not attack her this time.

Her place was in the diplomats chair, but even she knew Garlemald would not listen. As her boat washed up onto the coast, Minfilia shuddered at the sudden chill she felt. The eyes on her. Of course.

“Llyud. I come alone.”

Minfilia stood, her arms to her sides, showing she held no weapons. Her ears twitched, her talons tightened into the sand. Wind rushed over her, a familiar screech, and the heavily feathered Siren landed behind her. Minfilia turned, her tail wrapping around one of her legs.

“You are… Belias’ friend,” Llyud said, to remind herself. “What do you want.” Of course they were harsh.

Minfilia understood, so she spoke swiftly. “The Maelstrom is to send a battalion nearby in the next few days. I would recommend moving any of your children or eggs into the abandoned lighthouse.” Minfilia did not know if Llyud had any. “They are not aiming to hurt you.

You have seen the Garlean Empire - ahem, the ones in more metal ships, yes?” At the mention of them, Llyud fluffed up.

Llyud paced, large red wings and tail now making patterns in the sand. “Yes. The metal ones - they have tried to claim mine, as well. You will be fighting them?”

Minfilia nodded. “The Maelstrom aims to prevent them from sending reinforcements. They have a prime location within the heartland of the main landmass of Eorzea.” Minfilia felt relieved - even as Llyud stood right behind her, leaning over her.

This was just how siren were. How… well. “Thank you, friend of Belias,” Llyud said as softly as she could. She stroked Minfilias’ face with one of her hands, before giving a soft chirp. “I will nest up there. Away from the view of those who want me dead.

…Can I ask a favour?”

Minfilia nodded. “Tell Belias that he has grown too idle.”

She had to visit Belias, anyway. Over the time she was speaking with the Grand Company leaders, Minfilia had come to realise she had missed the power of diplomacy, of standing side-by-side with them. Though she had told Alisaie her answer would wait, she would at least speak with Belias about it.

Chlodebaimt was asleep at the door to Belias’ chambers, snoring slightly. And swearing. Snow glanced over, in his new armour - a gift from Belias. “We spent a while training. You sure you’re feeling better, Filia?”

While she did not answer him, Snow could tell she was by the way she walked, as she entered Belias’ now-lit chambers. As always, she bowed to the Gigas, Belias letting out a few happy snorts. “I have returned from my duties. With both the Grand Companies and an old ally of ours.”

“Which one?” Belias asked, rumbling a little.

“Llyud.”

Ah. So Llyud was doing well - Penono perked up hearing that name, and Belias smiled down at both women. “Llyud… does not remember. And nor should we force such. But… Llyud carries an Ivalician soul. Similar to you, Minfilia.”

Minfilia couldn’t stop her tongue. “Are you only friends with people who you used to know?” A slight fire burned in her throat as she spoke. “Is that the curse of being immortal?”

Belias paused. Penono looked between them with a worried look, until Belias snorted. “It is something I am trying to overcome. You must remember, I have only recently returned to activity.” And yet, Belias sounded hurt. He reached out a claw, and Minfilia held onto it. “What has been decided within Garlemald?”

“We are going to war. And I wish for aid, Belias, from you.

…but I also wish to ask something.” Belias perked up, as Minfilias’ gaze did not waver. “Belias, an ally of mine - Alisaie - and I have you figured out.

You wish for me to rule, do you not? As your princess never got to.”

Silence. Belias looked to the ground, ashamed. “I am sorry—”

“I accept.”

Minfilia felt Belias’ body tense, felt his fear - and then, his shock. He stared at her - before reaching up, to remove his mask. To show his humanoid face, so that they could see eye to eye. “You accept,” Belias repeated, whispered.

“…You know I cannot take your place, however. But with your aid, we have already begun to make a land open to all Spoken.” Minfilia felt that same fire in her throat, nerves parting and confidence filling her. “You have allowed such. I wish to create more. It will take time for us to be recognised as such, but this land is yours, is it not?

It is fitting that it is expanded into a nation. And for such a purpose, I shall rule alongside you. As the more… acceptable-looking leader.”

Belias was stunned into silence. “However,” Minfilia added, “we must need first end Ultima Weapon. And I also have one request, even before then.”

“Anything,” Belias replied, close to silent tears. He lowered his head. “And I understand. We cannot allow that Weapon to harm this star, as the previous ones have.”

“My request is— wait.” Minfilia stopped, her bravado fading. “You know of other Weapons?”

Belias looked to Penono. Penono let out a squeak. “Yes. In the time of Ivalice, Ultima Weapon still functioned. It mourned, for it was an organic creature, birthed from a stronger Weapon.”

“The Ultima Weapon was fully robotic,” Minfilia replied. “It had no mind of its’ own. It simply… attacked.”

“Of course.” Belias had a serious expression - Minfilia could not read his eyes, could not tell what he was thinking. “Us Esper, us Lucavi ended it. It died, in what is now Gyr Abania.”

Yes… Minfilia knew of the tales. Of a sleeping beast deep underneath Ala Mhigo, one which had been stopped by the twelve Zodiac Knights. So they were these Lucavi… if Minfilia had put faith in that story, she would be more shaken. “And thus, Garlemald found its’ corpse and woke it. Belias - do you know how to defeat it?”

Letting Penono begin to fluff up his tail to sit in, Belias thought. “My apologies. I am but one of twelve - I have not the strength.” And yet… “Call on me, when you face Ultima Weapon. Use your glyph. I shall attempt to drain aether from it, as I did when I faced Bal— Nabriales.”

An aid. He would risk himself, wish getting devoured, to save the star. Minfilia smiled weakly. She would use such as a last resort.

“…thank you, Belias. As for my request - I wish to employ a guard of Spoken. While the Gigas are good muscle, they easily frighten those who go to where the Adventurers’ Guild set up.”

Belias nodded. “I shall allow such. Who are you thinking of?”

“Ala Mhigans.” Of course Minfilia was thinking of her people. “I shall travel to Little Ala Mhigo and find fitting people.”

A soft clearing of the throat was nearly missed, but Penono let out a curious squeak, and the others turned. It was Rhalgr, standing in the doorway. “Can I come? I… I want to see how Ala Mhigans are doing. I mean, I’m their patron deity, right?”

Minfilia gave a smile. “It’ll be a few days, but you can come with me. Just watch for Lutia - she’s a little violent.”

Urianger Augurelt was terrified as he stepped into the realm of the fair folk. He still hurt from the torture, and he’d not found Thancreds’ body. Well, he had heard where it was from the others. It was an Ascian… the most dangerous of threats. (Even if Urianger still felt curious about them.)

He had spent so much time away from his king, from Fatebreaker. As he arrived, he noted his tail was still gone. His scars carried though to his sphinx form. And thus, he did not simply stroll though the palace to get to somebody.

No, he needed time to prepare. Alas, time was not on his side, for a familiar squeal filled his ears - and familiar arms wrapped around his neck far too tightly. Mishiva did not care that he looked tired and injured. No, she was just glad her pet was back. Frost tingled in her fingers, as Urianger began to groom her. “Where have you been?”

Urianger sighed. “I need to explain to your knight. It involves his world. Can you take me to him?

…how long has it been since I have been here?” Sometimes, time went wrong and flowed oddly, after all. The skies did not change, nor did the people. But the fair folk had come up with ways to measure time - ways invented by King Fatebreaker. Mishiva paused to think. “It’s… been six months,” she finally said.

Gods. Thancred must be itching to return to his flesh. Urianger nuzzled into his dear Mishiva more, as she began to pull him along. Ah, to be eternally young. Perhaps someday Mishiva would grow.

After all, the fair folk grew oddly. They aged not with the flow of time, even if it did flow, but with experience. Urianger gave a soft grumble as she kept trying to pull his neck down so she could walk easier.

They soon made it to Thancreds’ bedroom - and, without knocking, Mishiva barged in. Thancred was at his desk, armour off, writing in a thick journal. He did not turn, as Mishiva clung to his side. “Selale!!” she squeaked, beginning to bounce. “Selale?”

He wrote with a quill, ink flowing though magic. “Yes, Mishiva?”

“Nabal is back!!”

Thancred stood and turned on his heels. Stopping himself by holding onto his chair of bones. Eyes wide, Thancred took a step forward. And then another.

Before burying his head in Uriangers’ fur. “…You’re back.”

“I am,” Urianger said softly. “I am. I… was captured by Man.” He did not wish to say much. “I come with news of your flesh.

As we suspected, there is an Ascian within. He was sighted with the Empire. We must need consider it may end up lost.”

“Pardon me,” Mishiva said, looking between them. “Could my father save his flesh? We do not like the moral realm, but you belong to us.”

Hm. Urianger closed his eyes. “It is in a place covered in a lot of metal. But it may not be iron - they do not believe in faerie tales.”

Thancred did not dare move, in case Urianger would vanish again. He had lost track of the days. He let out a little whine. Urianger replied in kind.

Mishiva hugged them both, softly. “We’ll talk to Papa, okay?”

When Minfilia and Rhalgr arrived in Little Ala Mhigo, the sun beat down in a nostalgic way. Minfilia looked upwards, to the warm sun, and beamed. When she’d first awoken here, she’d thought she would never grow this strong - nor would she return to who she was. Even if she was still forgotten. Even now, her muscles ached in a familiar way - the way they did when she mined crystals.

The Amalj’aa were still in retreat - likely due to the loss of their God. The fact they’d left enthralled Spoken here was unlike her, but they had been in a rush. A familiar uniform caught Minfilias’ attention, however - the Corpse Brigade was on the prowl. Seeking Ala Mhigans to shake down, or just adventurers. Minfilia tied Lutia to a nearby Chocobo Post, and put Rhalgr under her coat. “They know me,” Minfilia said, confident. She hadn’t been this confident in so long. “I think they’re perfect.”

“Perfect for what?”

Minfilia did not reply. She strode though their ranks, some of them backing away in fear, others staring. She made her way into their cavern base, to their leader. For she remembered her.

And Minfilia still loved her. “Milleuda.”

Milleuda had returned, of course, when she had recovered from her attack. And her people had celebrated. Perking up a little, the Slitter gave a warm smile. “Minfilia. What kind of adventure has brought you here?”

Sitting down in front of her, Minfilia smiled. “I’ve come with an opportunity.”

Minfilia began to explain what had happened. How she had been given a chance to care for a new nation - one she hoped was free of the pain of the past. One which did not have the darkness of the Mad King lingering over it.

She still wanted to free Ala Mhigo, a goal that Milleuda thought was mad. But no one woman could free a nation. Nor could it be freed by those who let Ul’dah - or the other nations - poison their thoughts. Their new nation did not have those burdens, not yet. It was founded by those who many saw as beasts, the disenfranchised.

Minfilias’ head bowed. “If we are to truly form a new nation, however, we must show the other city-states that we have a force of acceptable creatures. The gigas would be seen as beasts, and slain as such. Thus, I have come to recruit in Little Ala Mhigo - for those who wish to train and fight in new ways.”

“That’s all good and well,” Milleuda said, a frown crossing her face, “but how will we get paid? You’ve not forgotten your past, now have you?”

Minfilia smiled. “Mor Dhona is full of natural resources. It is one of the few places across the whole continent where crystal clusters can be harvested - and there are many items which could be sold for quite some gil. I would make sure your people were paid as they deserved.

You must know, however, that I aim to recruit from Little Ala Mhigo itself. If conflict arises…”

“Then they’re the ones at fault.” Milleuda said, smirking. Minfilia paused.

“Pray, do not strike them down. Bring them to me, or to one of the guards, so we may discuss such.”

Minfilia was such an idealist. It almost sickened Milleuda, if she didn’t love Minfilia. Gods, she loved her. Milleuda leaned forward, and Minfilia knew what that meant. They shared a kiss.

…Minfilia closed her eyes. “I still love you.”

“I still love you too, Minfilia,” Milleuda replied. “That’s why I’m agreeing to this. You idiot.

…you do know I’m only a part of the Corpse Brigade, correct? There are others who won’t agree.”

“I know,” Minfilia said. “I… know. My offer is only to those who will not jeopardise a future free from the past.” Even if she knew the past dictated the future. Even if much of this was the dream of a Lucavi who lived in the past. “Which is why I ask that you only bring your most loyal.”

Milleuda hugged Minfilia, a soft smile building on her lips.

With that plan working out, Minfilia left with Rhalgr. The small deity nested under her coat, looking up though their mask with a little confusion. Shrugging, Minfilia recited the story as they crossed the sands. “That was the leader of the Corpse Brigade. She was but a child when the order was at its’ height. They were the Mad Kings’ personal guard. They slayed the monk.

However, Milleuda simply carries on their name. Her elder brother was their leader, until he fell in combat two— seven years ago.” She had to remember the Calamity. “They fight with the rebellion, for they were his personal attack dogs - or so they say.”

“So you’re giving them a second chance?” Rhalgr asked, chirping a little. “I dunno if that’s a wise idea.”

It might not be. But… “They simply need a way to break the cycle of violence, and a way to be seen as respectable. I will not hesitate to punish them, if they end up causing issues.” Belias would not hesitate either, Minfilia knew. That old Gigas simply wanted to rest, at first. But she had given him hope.

She would not ruin it. As she entered Little Ala Mhigo, she felt herself hiding her tail again. Her ears, which she had explained to Milleuda. Rhalgr, within her coat, then clung to her and whispered. “The stone’s here, isn’t it?”

“You want to see it?” Minfilia replied, gently. Rhalgr nodded, and so they went to the mark of Rhalgr. Prayed in front of it. Minfilia noticed another - Wilred, a smart strong young man.

“You came back?” Wilred asked, giving Minfilia a look. “Thought you’d gone off to become an adventurer.”

Minfilia giggled. “No, no. I did want to become a hero, but… I left to find myself. And now, I come to offer Ala Mhigans… a way out.”

“A way out? Of wanting our country free?” Wilred asked.

“No, the opposite. I aim to raise the strength of those who wish it - without being under the thumb of Ul’dahns who only profit from our disenfranchisement.”

Wilred focused on Minfilia, as the tiny minion-esque Rhalgr crawled out of her coat.

As Minfilia explained her new nation, a place with grand warriors and hopefully a place free for all Spoken, Rhalgr looked to the stone. So this was what worship felt like. They put a tiny hand to the stone, before a familiar voice knocked them out of their thoughts. Spoken not in the common tongue, but in their ancient tongue.

“You finally came here?”

Rhalgr turned to see a pale yellow and silver snake staring at them, a ribbon tied to their tail. A bell between the ribbon and their body gently shook, gently reminded Rhalgr of the times before. Quietly floating towards them, Rhalgr beamed - even if it was not visible due to their massive beard. “Byregot…? Why are you here?”

“Well,” Byregot said as they wiggled a little more, “I knew you’d come to your people. I waited for you here. Is that…?”

“No. It’s not our Hydaelyn,” Rhalgr replied quietly. “But she’s a really good woman! And she’s given me a home where I’m not at risk of hurting the Sylph. See, I was thought of as Ramuh? So I became Ramuh.”

Byregot laughed gently, closing their eyes. “I’ll come back with you. Gods know you need me. And if what I’m hearing is right, she might need the help of a Builder.”

“Are you going to plan her new nation, Byregot? Because I think you’ll need to ask first—”

“—Of course I was going to ask. What do you take me for, impolite?” Byregot smiled, even as they sometimes stuck out their snake tongue. Minfilia had not been paying attention, however, as her and Wilred sat now, looking to the stone.

“…You’ve been making a difference,” Wilred said, quietly. “I think I want to do that too.” And, someday, fight for Ala Mhigo.

Minfilia smiled with a warmth she reserved for only a few people. “My nation is not quite open yet for you to arrive.

First, the current threat of Ultima Weapon - the Empires’ strongest machine by far - must be ended. When that has happened, I shall come to retrieve you.”

And it would be stopped. Minfilia knew it would. If not due to herself, then due to the allies she had made. The empire - Gaius - would not be able to conquer Eorzea, as he did Ala Mhigo.

Gods. Nabriales had dreaded this. The Garlean capital filled his soul with complicated feelings. He simply had to do his job. Nothing more, nothing less. Nabriales adjusted the cuffs of his sleeves once. Twice. Three times.

Deep breaths.

Nabriales phased though the wall, to Emperor Solus’ chambers. It was dark, dull. Medical devices lined the walls - how disgusting. Solus gave a little groan, looking over at the figure.

“And here I thought you didn’t possess corpses, Mitron,” Nabriales commented.

A flick of water hit Nabriales, as Solus’ weakened body sat up un-naturally. “Do you know how old this flesh is, Nabriales? You would never sully yourself with such.” Mitron did not bother hiding their identity, as they spoke in the ancient tongue. “Why, I didn’t think you’d bother visiting me.”

“It’s dying,” Nabriales commented.

“Yes, after a long and successful life. I don’t like the spectacle of a glorious death - that’s more your style, Nabriales.” Solus gave a glare, before leaning his decrepit body against the wall.

A familiar glyph burned over his face, as the door locked – as Mitron sighed, moving the body more like a rag doll. “You know I’m busy, Nabriales. Unless you found him…?”

“No, no. Loghrif is still gone. I was sure destabilizing nations where he could be would find him,” Nabriales said snarkily, sitting on the bed. Poking the body, Nabriales continued, ignoring Mitrons’ snarl. “One of the sundered fucked up.”

Mitron rolled their eyes. Great. “And you cannot handle it?”

“Sabik.”

The single word made Mitron freeze, and quite suddenly, they let their body fall to the ground. Their soul left it – leaving enough life in it that it would simply appear to be in a coma. Unlike most Ascian, Mitron hand-crafted bodies, and then replaced newborn children with them. (Those abandoned? Mitron did not think about them.) “…Who disturbed him.”

“Lahabrea, of course,” Nabriales replied, side-stepping as Mitrons’ form flooded out into the room, as a thick blue liquid coated the ground. It almost felt like… jelly? “He also has been attempting to wake up Emet-Selch.” Both crimes, in their eyes. The liquid hardned for a moment, before curling around Nabriales – beginning to bundle under his clothes. Urgh, Nabriales hated this step. But Mitron preferred to be carried around, when they were not in a body. Just one of their quirks. What wasn’t such a nice quirk was where Mitron was forcing themselves – into his secondary mouth, his chimera-esque mouth on his stomach. Sure, it didn’t connect to anywhere in his body. It was more like an Atomos mouth, honestly. They were based after him – a creation that Loghrif had made as a joke, for his big mouth.

Still. It was uncomfortable! Nabriales understood what Mitron wanted, however. “The trip back will take a little. He’s currently working with your dear empire, Mitron – and we can’t just let them die, can we? Until you can look at each soldier, and check their soul.”

“I know,” Mitron replied, grumpily. “As soon as he’s alone – and no longer trying to awaken somebody else – we’ll punish him. This was the last straw, Nabriales.”

Nabriales let out a loud long whine. Gods. “I’ve re-assigned Igeyorhm, by the by. She’ll be hunting down Loghrif in Eorzea.”

Belias had been left alone, quietly sitting in his chambers. Still maskless, he looked down to Penono. “…Do you think she was right?”

Penono looked at him confused. “Right– about what?” She was comfortable in his fluff, half-asleep, as Belias stretched out.

“Do immortals such as I seek out familiar comforts…? Is that why I hold the fanciful desire to seek out my brother once more?”

“I don’t think so,” Penono responded. “I think you care about them, but you know the difference. I mean, you’ve taken to Chlodebaimt well.” The dragon knight was still shaky, of course - but he was not used to being cursed. Why, Chlodebaimt would likely take to their land becoming a true kingdom well - or so Penono thought.

Belias was about to reply, before his sheep-like ears twitched, and he swiftly replaced his mask on his face. He stood, growling. It was a moment before Penono heard what Belias did - something slamming into the wall outside. The door opened, and the heavily cloaked man that Minfilia had passed in the Darkhold stood there. Snow had been knocked out, trying to stop him from entering. Chlodebaimt, too, had been knocked out. Belias snorted.

“If I knew you had found me, I would have gotten more guards,” Belias stated, putting a claw out to stop Penono from approaching.

The cloaked man looked up at the Lucavi, and hid his face more. He looked like a void mage, for he was. “You know I would not come to you unless I needed to,” he replied, voice hoarse. Barely recognizable. “The Rift grows weak nearby. A Voidgate may open soon, and–”

“I don’t care,” Belias replied, snarling. “I do not work with Ascians.”

“For the last time, I am not one of those monsters,” the cloaked man replied - now leaning on the wall a little. “I was possessed.”

Belias now loomed, but the other did not seem afraid. “A likely story. You fought the Ascian. You fought Nabriales.”

“Quiet.” The man lifted up to remove his large hat, and his hood with it. His face was quite horrific - one side was scarred, burned like a radiation victim. It did not move as he talked, as the other side did - his hollow eyes unfocused. “This is not about us.”

Penono let out a gasp, she knew him. Even though all the pain, she hid behind Belias. “Vayne–” she began, before Belias slammed down his fists.

Penono gulped, before tottling over. Tonberry to scarred voidmage, she looked up to him. “…You’re alive, too?”

Vayne closed his eyes. He did not recognize her voice. But she was Ivalician, and remembered him. “I am one of the Warriors summoned before this world was born. I am no longer your enemy - even if you see me as such. I know you will not trust me - but I come only to seek the Void.”

“…why?” Penono asked, trusting him even less. She knew what the Void could do.

“Somebody important to me was thrown into there after my possession,” Vayne explained, now managing to stand up straight. His body still ached, but he could not appear weak. “Since the Void is a realm where none age, he would still be alive in there. Even if he has become a Voidsent, I am still responsible for him. For dear Larsa…”

Tensing, Belias knew he should help. But on the other hand, it was Vayne. Penono looked him over, before slapping her Tonberry fish tail against the ground twice. “Would he still be Larsa, though?”

Vayne went quiet. “It depends. Belias. Are you still simply going by that name? Or have you accepted you are still Basch, twin of Gabranth?”

Silence. Broken by a groan from behind them, the knocked out Snow glaring from the ground. “You’re meant to be on my side, Vayne–” he croaked, before passing out from the pain again.

Vayne sighed, shrugging ever-so-slightly. “The Gods cannot control what we do with our immortal lives, Snow. They simply curse us to them.”

Extending a hand, Vayne looked up to the Lucavi who had begun to slump. “But I see I will be unwanted here. When the Voidgate is breeched, I shall return.

I shall save him, no matter what.”

With that, Vayne turned to leave, before Penono could say anything. Belias slumped.

“…I do not know who I am, anymore. But I cannot be Basch. He… he died when Ivalice did.”

“Pardon me,” another voice cut though the room. Chlodebaimt stood at the doorway. “Was that an enemy? He was too strong…”

“He is another immortal being, like Snow,” Belias explained, giving a soft sigh. “He was of Ivalice.” Like so many others were. He knew he was biased, but… “He was Emperor. He wished to use my Princess’ land, her power, to win a long-forgotten war.

But he… he also wished to fight the Gods.”

Fighting the gods was impossible, Belias had learned. Be they simply Ascian or those above them, they would always win. Chlodebaimt approached, gently. “He survived, of course. When everybody else died.” Everybody that he loved, that he wished to be with, they had died or betrayed him. Penono gripped to Belias’ leg, as the room began to warm, to smell of smoke. “He then aided in the War of the Magi, tampering with the Void.

…He believes that one of those who died could be there, it seems. A foolish wish from a foolish man.

Chlodebaimt. Listen closely.” Chlodebaimt stared straight up at him. “I would sooner die then work alongside him. If things had gone differently, then perhaps… perhaps I would not carry these burdens.”

Belias refused to believe that Vayne had been possessed by Ascian. He refused to think he could change, even as the Lucavi himself had changed so very much. His heart broke due to one Ascian, he could not believe another would have stolen everything else from him.

Far from Lucavi or even Garlemald war plans, however, Prishe sat in full Ascian robes, legs dangling over the edge of some ruins - dipping into a river. She hadn’t thought that she’d find herself wandering so far from the action, but going to find who she was looking for was more difficult then she expected.

That, and she heard footsteps - muffled ones - with her Elvaan ears. Jumping up, she turned. “Lightning, huh? What’s up?”

Lightning did not speak, drawing her blade. “Oh, I get it,” Prishe said with a laugh. “You want me dead.”

“I do,” Lightning replied, as she charged towards the other. Prishe jumped backwards, her fists now brandished.

How many times had they done this? How many times had they argued? “Jokes on you. Even before we became like this, I couldn’t die!”

“You can die now,” Lightning replied curtly - as her blade cut into one of Prishes’ legs. Prishe did not flinch, even as her skin parted to a dull brown crystal. “I’ll make your life a living hell!”

Prishe snorted, as she punched at Lightning - but she had already decided this fight wasn’t worth it. Lightning had kept trying to get her to kill herself. But unlike before, she had a reason to live. A few, actually. Kicking with her now-exposed crystal leg, Prishe got a heavy hit on the other - Lightning being knocked to the ground. Prishe dashed backwards again, dodging as fast as she could.

It was part of who they were to fight like this. It’s what they were now made for. It fueled not just their Gods, but themselves. Prishe knew some of them had tried to stop fighting - there was that one who buried himself, and that one who simply wanders… but they’ll be driven to this.

It was part of their curse, their burden. Prishe knew about that sort of thing, though. And as Lightning stood, Prishe tapped a ring on her finger, and teleported away.

She had set this up long ago, before the calamities. Her and the Warrior of Light had found somewhere safe. The ring was only for use in emergencies - it had been recharging, however, for the last while. She didn’t want to just use it, the trip was part of the fun. But Lightning might have followed her back.

Where had she gone? To a small hidden room, deep beneath the ground. A bunker, of sorts, which could survive anything. It was decorated with remnants of whatever lingered, whatever the ones who came there could salvage from their worlds.

Prishe noted that another of their group was there, gripping to a faded photograph. Both of them were similar. They were from places that shouldn’t exist, things that used to be but were no longer. But her case… Prishe was more stable then the woman - a beautiful young woman with messy blond hair and purple eyes, with the blessing of the Gods. She usually wore a white gown when she tried to cling to who she was, but right now she wore a simple hoodie, black with skulls on it. (Perhaps it was from her world?)

The woman was trying to remember the name of the man in the photograph. Prishe leaned over, leaning her head on the other. “That’s Noctis, right, Stella?” Right. From the world that was somehow after this one, but still existed before it. It was confusing and a little perplexing, but Stella… well, she was a bit of a mad-woman. That’s what happens with being erased. Prishe, too, was a little mad.

Stella looked up, eyes wide - before giving a little smile. “Yes. My friend, Noctis. I’ve… he’s in this world, Prishe.” But Stella could not move much - she was sickly.

Prishe nodded. Of course Noctis was here, he’d been here since the beginning - but it wasn’t like Stella would remember that. “I’ll find where he is right now, okay? But has the Warrior of Light woken yet, or is he still having a depression nap?”

Shaking her head, Stella gave a little grunt. “He’s still asleep. He’s caught the sickness as well. Why… don’t you use his name?”

Finally lifting her head, Prishe looked towards his room. The door was closed. Locked, probably. Just like he locked himself away from people who wanted to help him. Prishe had become the leader of their ragtag group. Not just Stella, not just the Warrior of Light, but any of them who just wished to live, even if they shouldn’t. The child, as well, who’d been stolen by Lightning the last time he went out. Honestly, Prishe thought that they should actually see if they could team up with some other people instead of acting all mysterious. It’s not like she was an Ascian or anything - they wanted this place to go away.

She wore their robes, though, and the Warrior of Light had taken advantage of his appearance to fool them into thinking he was Elidibus. It worked. They thought he was asleep on the moon.

Prishe decided. She strode towards the door. Her hands firm, Prishe knocked loudly on the door.

Minfilia had no clue what was going on with all these other groups, mind you. She had returned to the Waking Sands, where her allies and her were to set off on the first part of this scheme. But Minfilia would not need to fight at Camp Westwind - it was far too dangerous, she had been told. The general stationed there was not one who could be eliminated without great sacrifice.

And, so, Minfilia saddled up Lutia again, after wishing her allies good luck. She had to get to Northern Thanalan, to help with the war effort there. She already had gathered some supplies, mostly medical in nature. Garlemald still had many soldiers there. As she rode her crimson chocobo, however, her Linkpearl rang.

It was Belias. “My apologies, dear little Minfilia. I… may have done something which was not in our plan.”

Minfilia listened. “Explain.”

“Imperials from the Castrum were trying to move into Mor Dhona proper. I had to move. I destroyed the bridge between there and—”

“Are you unharmed?” Minfilia asked, first of all. Belias gave a grunt, and she continued. “I did not know that was an option. Without that supply line, this may work out better.

Thank you, Belias.”

Still sounding ashamed for a moment, Belias mumbled out an apology - before gasping a little. “…You are welcome, Minfilia.

Please, remain safe. Perhaps this will be your last major conflict, perhaps not. But I do not wish to mourn you.”

“I promise, Belias.

You shall not need to mourn anymore.”