(A/N) My first Xillia drabble- a oneshot from the game in which Milla prepares to give up herself for all she cares for. Review if you want, criticism welcome!
Disclaimer: I don't own.
The Ultimate Sacrifice
Milla shifted to better bear the weight Muzét was forcing onto her shoulders. There was no doubt about her 'sister's' strength. The crushing power was ripping through her skull as if the pressure was going to crack it. Some part of her was detached from the situation, analyzing and evaluating her courses of action, but the other part was in agony. Her human part, the part that she had recently found growing and encompassing her whole being. The pain was not the source of the agony, but rather, the sight that lay before her.
The others around her were crumpled to intricate flooring, some clutching their heads, and others wincing in pain. Jude was struggling to stand to no avail, fists curled on the cracked panels.
"Milla!" Jude called out despite the fact he was already on his knees. He valiantly strained to maintain an upright position, and she could see him pinning a genuinely panicked look on her as flickering arcs of electricity danced about viciously.
She was the last one standing.
The reddish tinge to the cavern of the boat was fluctuating wildly as each and every person's mana was sapped and greedily drawn into the spirit's arte. Everything spun in hues of blue and orange, making it look surreal to the point of falseness. The Four were humming in the back of her mind, telling her what she needed to do. She was well aware, of course, but it took their coaxing to bring her to action.
She knew already. She wasn't Maxwell- she was never Maxwell.
The faith that the others held in their eyes was so genuine and true that she found she couldn't disappoint them. She may not be who they thought she was, but she certainly could do this. The black barrel of the spyrix was seemingly miles away, and she struggled heavily with each step to overcome the infinitely stronger gravity that was holding her back. The Four assisted her, but it didn't make the journey any easier to bear.
"Milla!" Jude called out, a feverish terror cracking his voice, "Don't do it! There's got to be another way!" She couldn't help but look at him fondly, almost- dare she say it- lovingly, before clenching her fists and turning her back.
The other's called her name, either in warning or in despair she would never be able to tell.
"I have to do it Jude. It is the only way for you all to survive, the only way to dispel the schism." Her tone was steadier than she imagined it could've been, but from the corner of her eye she could see him shake his head in defiance.
"Promise me you'll survive!" He yelled desperately, and she could already feel the ironic smile tugging at her lips. The brightness of her eyes was practically glowing in this new dim setting as she stood straighter and halted before her destination, before what had been her destination for so long.
"Of course, Jude. I'm Maxwell, aren't I?" And with that final lie, she summoned the Four and let her mana free to feed the Lance. The Lance that would dispel Muzét's arte as well as the crevice in the sky. It was fitting, how, after all this time spent seeking the destruction of this spyrix, she would find a noble end because of it. The energy coursed through her arms and flowed like water into the mechanism, so much and yet never enough. She gave it all. She gave every last drop.
As she finally felt her vision fading, tinged with black while she struggled to keep her eyes wide, the Lance of Kresnik activated. The blinding white washed away the darkness in her eyes and the lasting flash was the last thing she could see, only long enough for her to acknowledge that Jude would live even while she died.
There was nothing more.
(A/N) thanx for reading!
