This is a dump for things that I've been dying to write, that the plot bunnies just won't let me forget. This one I've loved for awhile just because I adore Mithos and, while this is a weird take on things, I'm rather fond of it.
Title: Destroying the World
Rating: T+
AN: The whole idea behind this is what would happen if, instead of everyone going home happy at the end of the first game, Lloyd and co. joined Mithos in his evil attempts to continue to rule the world and get his sister back. And, while they do manage to basically "save the world" there are still Desians and a Tower of Salvation, just no Chosen's Journey. These are the events of Dawn of the New World if Mithos were pulling all the strings, as he should have been. If you have played DofNW, then understand that everything is basically the same as it is in the game unless I say otherwise. If you have not…well, try to enjoy the plot anyway. Not everything in the dump will be TOS2 related, so just wait for the next one, mmkay? Also, I'm ignoring the fact that the Ginnungagap is called the Ginnungagap. That word completely ruins any sort of mood one might be going for, so I shun it.
EDIT: Don't exactly remember when this was written, but I've gone back through and edited a little. Dark, depressing, and, I think, entertaining. Enjoy!
Disclaimer: The Mystic owns nothing Tales-related, and never will. There won't be more of these, so take what you can get.
R&R
….
The empty, pitiless eyes of Mithos Yggdrasill stared down, glittering madly, at the rag-tag band of "heroes" that had thought that they could defeat him. It had been a good run, he supposed, but now had ultimately failed. Even his Seraphim had betrayed him; his Desians had been ripped apart, and his sister—his ultimate goal—had denied him.
He was still victorious; the boy-hero Lloyd Irving had fallen at his hand, and his body, beaten and bloodied, was collapsed at Mithos' feet. The only creature that could resurrect his sister lay unmoving only a little further beyond. Despite the way the group looked, they were not dead, just impaired; incapable of any more foolish attempts on his life.
As he surveyed the carnage, a slow, cruel smirk parted the Cruxis Leader's lips and he spoke, "…do you think I will kill you and your friends, Lloyd Irving?" He could not keep the humor out of his voice. "Do you think this war over?"
"You…bastard!" choked Irving, "You damn bastard! I won't let you win!" Lloyd tried to stand, to force himself to his feet using only mindless rage, and failed, collapsing in on himself.
Mithos chuckled and knelt in front of Lloyd, "You're wrong of course: I have won, Lloyd. There is nothing that you can do to change that…but do you think this is the end?"
"…what else could it be…?" He had broken the optimist! The child that could see the good in everyone had just admitted defeat! In the faces of Irving's friends, Mithos saw the last traces of resistance drain from their once fiery eyes.
Mithos stood, holding himself upright with much dignity, "I am a merciful Lord. Oh," he added, seeing disbelief written on most faces, "you may think that after what I did to Ozette and Luin I am not, but I will let you live! Of course, there is a condition but I think you will find that perfectly fair…"
"You—you can't!" gasped the Chosen of Tethe'alla, "Damn it, Mithos, you're taking D-Derris-Kharlan, you're taking the Great Seed, the worlds'll die! What the hell is there to live for?"
"Oh ye of little faith," Mithos' childish voice sent viable shivers up the spines of the heroes. "I will return the Great Seed and freely give you the Eternal Sword." All eyes were on him now. Genis, his little friend, even managed to let hope shine through.
"…what's your condition, Mithos?" Lloyd's eyes were hard; there was now so much of his father in them.
"My sister." It was all Mithos wanted, all he had ever wanted, and it was within his grasp. So what if he had to restore this pathetic world? It would destroy itself again in a few centuries, it was none of his concern, but if he held Derris-Kharlan close, he and his sister could escape, and he had even found a way to save the Seed and have his sister. Lloyd would accept, and if he didn't, someone else would for him.
"Impossible," croaked Kratos, the traitor, "if Martel lives, the Seed dies and vice-versa. Lloyd, don't listen to him!"
"Shut up, you bastard!" snapped Mithos, "If you give me Colette, her soul will take Martel's place with the Seed and it will be spared. Martel will be given her body again. When she returned to me, the Seed didn't die. I realized what had happened. Colette and Martel are so close that they are interchangeable!"
"No!" Lloyd cried, jerking himself to his feet, "The whole reason I went on this Journey was to protect Colette! I won't let you take her from us now!"
Mithos was about to interrupt and disagree, point out the wonders of this offer, but the Chosen of Sylvarant beat him to it.
"I'll do it."
All heads turned toward the blond Chosen; her body was as battered and blood-soaked as the rest, but under her matted blond hair, her blue eyes shown with passion and love. "…this is the only way to save the worlds, and it will end the Chosen's Journey, won't it Mithos? I'll be the final Chosen and the worlds will really be saved…"
Colette had been prepared to die from the moment she had set out from Iselia, if it meant saving the world—worlds— later. Lloyd had brought her hope that she wouldn't have to die, but now she saw the reality: there was no way to save the worlds without her sacrifice. She was the perfect match. Mithos felt a slow grin make its way to his lips.
"Correct, Colette. You would be the final Chosen, and you would save the worlds, just as you meant to when you began this Journey. You always knew this would come."
"No! Colette…don't do it! Please, we'll find another way, we'll—"
"Lloyd there is no other way! Don't you see? Mithos is too strong, he always has been and he always will be. If we take this now, we'll stop more bloodshed and more people dying. And—and I won't really be dead. I'll be like—…like Martel, I'll be with the Tree, helping to spread mana to the worlds. Just like I always wanted…
It was done: Colette Brunel had sealed her own fate and Mithos would get his sister back.
…
Flames leapt around the feet of the three figures that stood in the wake of Palmacosta's destruction. It had been two years since they had Regenerated the World and joined Tethe'alla and Sylvarant. Life had changed for both worlds, as it naturally would, but the people resented it. The laughter of the Desians slaughtering innocents echoed into the starry night sky and Mithos watched Lloyd shiver beside him.
"It had to be done; those Vanguard bastards are getting in my way, Palmacosta will send a clear message: the Goddess and the Church are still in control."
"They're upset, Mithos," growled Lloyd in return, "The world was 'Regenerated' but the Desians still exist and continue to kill people. Of course would be questions asked and rebellions started. The Vanguard are just the first of many…" Lloyd Irving had become far more solemn since the final battle on Derris-Kharlan, since the loss of his best friend, Colette.
Mithos shrugged at the excuses made in their defiance, "We still have to eliminate the Vanguard before it gets too big or someone starts looking into the Church further. We can't have holes or everything will fall apart."
"I understand Lord Mithos…" growled Lloyd, refusing to look at the child beside him.
"Of course you do, Lloyd." Mithos chuckled darkly.
"…what I don't understand, Mithos, is why you have to slaughter the innocent. Not every citizen in Palmacosta is a member of the Vanguard." The blond ex-Chosen turned and glared at her brother with forest-green eyes, her lips pursed in anger.
"Because it sends a message." Mithos looked at Martel with angry, hurt eyes. "Because they are humans this is the only way they will remember their lesson."
"…" Martel couldn't answer; she had seen her brother fly into rages too many times. This was notthe boy that she had raised, this was the madman that he had become, and she no longer had control over anything, despite what she said. Martel had taken Colette Brunel's body and Colette had become the guardian of the Yggdrasill Tree, but Martel felt more like a walking husk than ever: her soul had died the moment she had begun to take part in the destruction of the world she loved.
Cruxis still reigned. The group of Heroes that had tried to stop Mithos had joined him. The Renegades had been disbanded and destroyed. There was no one left to stop Mithos' ways. And now they were out to stop the only force in the world that could possibly end his reign: Ratatosk.
"…I should go," muttered Lloyd, "I have to find that girl with the Core, Lord and Lady Yggdrasill…" He bowed his head, much in the same way his father did, and left, leaping into the fire and pulling out his double blades even as he ran down the cobblestone streets.
"…such a loyal boy," murmured Mithos, "So like his father; good at following orders…most of the time."
"…" Again, Martel said nothing. What could she say? All was lost.
…
The last weeks had been chaotic, and had hurt Martel Yggdrasill more than ever. Lloyd was collecting Centurion's Cores to re-bind the door to the underworld, and while he did this his friends prepared tricks and traps to lead the girl with Ratatosk's Core, and now his Knight, to a trap where they would force Ratatosk into his Core state…forever. Even Mithos was not foolish enough to believe that he could keep the balance without Ratatosk. That, at least, was something Martel could thank the higher powers for.
Martel sighed and leaned against one of the many stone houses that made up the oldest city in the world: Asgard. In their quest, Luin had nearly been destroyed by the Vanguard. The Desians and the Vanguard had wiped out most of Palmacosta…again. They had managed to take Lumen's Core from the rubble of the Tower of Mana, almost killing Marta and Emil in the process. Yet, considering they weren't going to be able to take Ratatosk's Core without killing the girl, the sooner the better she supposed.
They were "looking for her" she knew. The Desians were running around Asgard pretending they were searching for the Chosen, and the Vanguard had entered the scene just as fast. Martel knew that, while she was technically in danger, the Desians would stop the Vanguard if it came to that. And Yuan was in the city, he could easily wipe out anyone that threatened her. She was as safe as safe was nowadays.
She was with the girl—Aisha—whom Colette had met and become friends with on the Journey, and was convinced that she was still Colette, waiting around for something to happen. Or the Desians to get their hands on the Ratatosk party and bring them to her. There was a knock on the door and Aisha jumped.
"I-it's probably just Linar…" she murmured and walked over to get the door. "We'll keep you safe, Chosen One…"
Martel said nothing, what could she say?
It was not, however, Linar, nor was it the Desians, nor Vanguard. It was a boy and girl. The boy was blond, dressed flashily in rich fabrics, but shy and unable to meet her eyes. The girl was quite the opposite, her dark hair and flashy personality brought her over the doorframe first. Her eyes widened when they set on Martel and the former Goddess suddenly got a horrible feeling in her stomach. This girl hated her.
"…are you the Chosen of Regeneration?" she asked, her voice a rough whisper as she eyed Colette.
"I—…I am." Martel forced her voice not to break. "Who are you?" These two roughly met the description for the Ratatosk party, though what they could possibly be doing here was beyond her.
"Ma'am, the Desians, they're—" The boy began to speak, but he was interrupted by the girl, she barged forward, her eyes dark with fury.
"You…are the girl who destroyed Palmacosta? You are the girl who left us at the hands of the Desians? You are the girl who combined the worlds and are now causing everyone to suffer?"
"I-I…" Martel couldn't help but gape; since her return she had been unable to face the people that she had condemned. Now this girl had come to her, and was yelling at her curses that she truly deserved. Things that she had been yelling herself, for two years. "…I am. But…you don't even begin to comprehend the full extent of my…sins…" Martel looked away, her felt the resentment for herself, for her brother, that had been bubbling in her stomach for two years again rise to the surface. She was so selfish that, after four thousand years of holding out and staying strong, she had finally taken whatever she could to get out of the eternal torment she had to look forward to in her future.
And now she had the gall to regret it.
Before self-pity could overcome Martel, Marta was upon her again. Her hand flying, the girl's gloved hand met the woman's cheek with a resounding smack. Martel's eyes widened and she stumbled back; tasting blood in her mouth, she felt her back meet the wall.
The girl now had tears in her eyes. "My mother was in Palmacosta when that giant tree attacked us! She, like just about everyone there, died all because you were off playing in Tethe'alla at the time! You are a traitor and a monster!" As quickly as she had entered, Marta raced off and out into the windy streets of Asgard leaving Martel, Aisha, and the boy standing around in obvious shock.
"M-Miss Chosen!" squeaked the boy, "I-I'm so sorry! I-I had no idea!" He was gasping.
"…I deserve far worse than that, don't apologize…" whispered Martel. "Don't apologize…"
…
Mithos leaned back against the wall of stone behind him. His plan was going perfectly, and Ratatosk's protectors were falling safely into his arms: they were traveling with the former "heroes" and being led, Cores in hand, straight to him.
Not to say that there weren't a few glitches, but the Vanguard weren't difficult to manipulate or infiltrate; he already had a few Desians growing through the ranks. By the time he needed to take them down from the inside—if he needed to take them down from the inside—they would be Brute's personal guard. Brute, of course, being the bastard that had started the organization that questioned his ways. He would be dead soon.
What Mithos hadn't seen coming was that the Vanguard would already have a Core, not to mention that they would have Solum, which gave them the capabilities of disguise and shape-shifting. The fake Lloyd that had begun the Palmacosta razing had taken his plans for a turn, but he had finished that particular battle and come out far ahead of the Vanguard. It was almost funny, Mithos thought was a small, silent chuckle, they portrayed Lloyd exactly as he was: a violent idiot bent on bringing the Vanguard to its knees. How cute.
He would show them!
Mithos was waiting for a call from the Sages, who were presently escorting Emil and Marta—the Knights of Ratatosk—through Triet after Lloyd. Irving had successfully stolen Ignis' Core and was continuing to play the bait that the Knights chased across the world to Mithos' trap.
While Lloyd was the lure, Mithos would dismantle the Vanguard with his Desians and eventually take Ratatosk's Core from both the children who intended to resurrect the Spirit and the Vanguard who intended to resurrect the Mana Cannon and try to destroy his beautiful Tower of Salvation, which he had taken great pains in returning to its former glory. He would take care of everything, all his enemies, in one fell swoop.
The communicator that sat by his feet began to buzz with static and the voice of Mithos' best friend, Genis, came through. "L-Lord Yggdrasill?" he called. "A-are you there?"
Mithos was displeased with Genis, after he had discovered that Mithos was Yggdrasill, he had never treated him the same. Mithos should have been prepared, but he had foolishly hoped that Genis was different…that they could still be friends.
"I'm here, Genis," Mithos answered with his childish voice, "How's it going?"
"W-we just made it to Izoold and we're trying to get a boat to Flanoir…" In the background, Mithos heard Raine Sage, Genis' sister, mutter something that he couldn't discern from the static. Genis' voice answered and then he spoke into the communicator again. "You—…you put Regal in jail on purpose, didn't you? That 'arsonist' that is burning stuff in Izoold…that's you, isn't it…?"
"It's just a genetically enhanced Light-Frog, nothing too dangerous. But yes, I did. I want you back here, so I sent Regal to take your place." Mithos smiled at the thought of having Genis back at the Tree with him. "Wasn't it a good idea?"
He hoped Genis would agree with him, just this once answer back that yes, Mithos was a genius. Alas, he was disappointed, and Genis ignored his question. "All right Mi-…My Lord, we'll come as soon as we can. Sage out." The communication line was cut and the sound on the other end went dead.
Mithos was alone with his thoughts again, but he was used to it by now, he'd been alone for centuries already; this was nothing new. Yet, for the first time, he felt a real pang of sadness. Martel hated him for what he had done. Kratos and Yuan were as distant as ever and now he had learned that they couldn't be trusted in the first place. Genis resented him. The rest of the group would only treat him with cold respect. There was nothing left for him in this world, but he stubbornly hung on to his life, to the ideals that he impressed upon the world.
He had made it this far, he'd won. But at what price…? He had lost everything…
No. He would press on; he would win and the world might just be a better place for his works.
…
Flanoir, the coldest place on the planet, burned.
Kratos started at the flames that Mithos had brought down with Holy Lightning upon the unsuspecting city. It was very early morning and father and son stood on the balcony overlooking the bloodbath that had once been Flanoir.
And what, Kratos asked himself, was the cause of this? That the Angel of Death would be sent down to bring his wrath on Flanoir? Simply that the Vanguard were hiding here. Mithos did not care that only five Vanguard soldiers had been injured while five hundred innocent people had been slaughtered by the attack. He only cared that he sent a message. The message that the Vanguard was unacceptable.
"…your copy was here as well," murmured Kratos without taking his eyes off the flames below. "He was what tipped us off to their presence here…"
His son said nothing.
There was a part of Kratos was wanted to blame this all on the Vanguard, but he knew that there was no point in dodging the blame: he was the Angel of Death that had brought down the Apocalypse on the snow-covered city and he would forever have the blood on his hands.
And on his son's hands.
"…Regal called awhile ago while you were…" While he was out slaughtering the innocent. "…they're almost here. We should go meet them. Last I'd heard, Mithos thinks that they're getting too friendly with the thought of me, we have to keep them chasing me so I'd better show my face…" His son's voice was bitter as he said this and Kratos could not blame him. No one could.
"Of…course Lloyd." Kratos backed away from the destruction below him, silently relieved that he no longer had to gaze upon what he had done. The images would haunt his dreams as it was, he did not want to have to look at the real thing for much longer.
Kratos Aurion followed his son down the stairs to where Regal had said that he would meet them. When they arrived, the Lezareno President, the Knight of Ratatosk, and the girl with the Core on her forehead were, for all intents and purposes, waiting for them.
"L-Lloyd Irving!" Emil—the skinny blond boy—growled upon seeing them. His eyes flashed red and he fell into an aggressive stance…how odd, Kratos was quite sure the boy's file said he had green eyes… "You really did do all this?"
Lloyd shrugged, looking over all their heads with his red-brown eyes. "...I'm just keeping my eye on things," he muttered, "That's all…" He looked away. Lloyd did not want to act.
"…so it was you Lloyd…?" Regal, on the other hand, was doing a heartbreakingly spectacular job of lying through his teeth. "And Kratos? What are you doing here?"
Kratos, dressed in his Cruxis uniform, splattered in blood, and holding his sword limply in one hand simply shrugged and sighed softly, "My job, Bryant."
Regal paled enough that Kratos was quite sure he was no longer faking a thing. Emil and Marta fixed their eyes on Kratos. Emil's eyes were quite suddenly green again. "Job? Regal, what does he mean?" The girl with Ratatosk's Core on her forehead blinked her large blue eyes up at Regal.
"Kratos…Kratos Aurion is the Angel of Death. A creature—" Kratos snorted at his terminology, "—employed by the Angels of Cruxis to do their bidding in the world of men. Namely—"
"Namely to kill." Kratos spat. As their suddenly wide eyes locked on Kratos, the man caught Lloyd's eye and realized how disgusted he was with his father's display. Kratos had been playing this part for too long, the Angel of Death came almost as easily as Kratos Aurion, now. But also written in those depths was an invitation, perhaps even a dare, that Kratos complete the look. Finish what you've started, Father.
And he did.
Kratos' blue wings grew from his back, bathing them all in cold blue light; a few droplets of blood hit the ground and splattered off in the perfect white snow. "I am an Angel of Cruxis, sent down to punish those who do not listen to the Goddess' ways." Kratos rumbled, his voice soft and emotionless.
From beside him, Lloyd swore. "Stop showing off and let's get the hell out of here," he growled. "I don't have time for this. We need to get more Cores. Come on." He began to push past Regal, Emil, and Marta, Kratos following his son, when a familiar voice called out to Kratos.
"How far the great have fallen, eh Kratos Aurion?" Kratos rounded on the floating black fore of Tenebrae, the Centurion of Darkness. So it was true, what the others had said, that the group had an active Centurion with them. This could be…dangerous for Mithos' plan, but, Kratos rationalized, Tenebrae could not know who was truly pulling the strings.
"…indeed, Centurion. How far have we fallen and how far will we fall?"
…
Zelos Wilder officially hated himself. As he watched the man he considered to be his best friend fight, well, himself, he realized just how far they'd sunk. He had spent the past few hours leading Emil and Marta—the brats, as he'd affectionately dubbed them—through a maze after his bud and sister. The sister that he'd let get captured by the Vanguard. It was all part of the Lord Ygdrasshole's plan to start the kiddies trusting Lloyd again. Honestly, Zelos was just pretty sure Yggy was trying to screw with their heads as much as physically possible so that when it finally came time to make a decision, they were weak-minded and stupid.
Then he'd kill them. That's how most of his plans went. The sick part was that Zelos was almost growing fond of the brats. Sure, the girl had the biggest mouth on the planet and the kid was pathetic, but they were still good at heart. Well, Ratatosk-Mode Emil wasn't such a charmer, actually, he was more than a bit of a bitch, but whatever.
One Lloyd charged at the other and the second one blocked the attack, they spun and shoved off of each other and Zelos felt his head spin. "Damn, one Bud is annoying enough, but two might just end the world." Oh, such a charming joke.
Zelos was one of the few people in the group who didn't blame Lloyd for everything that had happened to the world since they'd failed. That was the one thing he and Aurion seemed to agree on. The others blamed Lloyd for sending them to fight Mithos before they were strong enough. They said that Lloyd had been weak and stupid and that he shouldn't have been leader, but Zelos understood; Lloyd couldn't have known the power that was waiting for them on Derris-Kharlan. He had been the only one of them strong enough to lead the Regeneration Group.
Zelos sure has hell couldn't have.
Lloyd hit Lloyd again and Emil and Marta gasped, "So there really are two Lloyds! But that means one of them must be Decus!"
No shit. Zelos rolled his eyes but said nothing as he allowed the kiddies to wrap their pea-brains around the goings on of reality. Nothing was ever clean-cut, and it never would it be!
"But then who's the real Lloyd? Zelos!" Marta rounded on him, her childish blue eyes round with horror as she looked to the big, handsome Zelos to assist them. "You know him best, which one is the real Lloyd? Which one is Decus?" When Zelos just continued to stare at the fighting pair, Marta rounded on Emil, "Oh Emil which one is real? I just don't know what to do!"
"…Bud'll be the better fighter," Zelos pointed out, his voice dark. "I doubt this Decus guy spent his life training with double blades."
"Which is why I'm the real Lloyd!" Shouted the obviously fake Lloyd from across the room, Zelos sighed, what a bastard. "You're my friends! You know it's him that's been doing all this horrible stuff! I wouldn't do that!" Because heroes never have to do anything unsightly, thought Zelos bitterly. That dick was making his Bud out to be the stereotypical hero that the world saw him as, and it was starting to piss Zelos the hell off.
"You're so full of shit it makes me sick," growled Lloyd, his red-brown eyes narrowed at his copy. "Goddess, you're a bad actor too!"
"Zelos, you know I'm the real me!" cried the fake as he allowed one sword to drag along the ground sloppily. "You're my friend! Help me bring this fake to justice!"
"For the love of the gods," Zelos growled. "Learn to act before you try to go faking anyone, asshole!"
Zelos Wilder charged. The fake went flying, smashing back onto some fallen rubble and slamming his head against the rock. The real Lloyd never let his guard down. When the fake arose, he had periwinkle hair and a gaudy outfit: the Vanguard member Decus. "Well damn, I guess that means my Lloyd impersonation isn't going anywhere…" he huffed airily. "Too bad, it was fun being Lloyd."
Zelos and Lloyd both gritted their teeth, and, while Emil and Marta shouted accusations at Decus, Lloyd leaned over and whispered, "Don't look now, but we're surrounded by angels…" He didn't sound happy.
"No shit, Bud. You think Yggy would let us in here without some backup?"
"Backup my ass, Zelos."
"Touché." Zelos chuckled darkly, "But it's good to see you again, Bud."
They were friends, shockingly enough; the backwater Sylvaranti Hero and the Playboy Chosen had become the best of friends since the world has collapsed into chaos.
What else was new?
…
Genis smiled and pretended, because that's all he could do any more. Smile and pretend he wasn't heartbroken and betrayed on the inside, smile and pretend that working for Cruxis was all he had thought it could be and more. Smile and pretend that he wasn't leading his two new friends to their deaths. Running the distraction was easy: distract the Vanguard enough to let Emil, Marta, and Tenebrae through the cracks. Oh, and an entire army of Cruxis angels and Desians in too. There was that too.
According to the latest communications he'd gotten, everyone was inside, Zelos and Martel were together, Genis, Presea, and Raine were playing distraction, and had now joined again with Marta, Emil, and Tenebrea; Regal had been left behind in the first siege—Altamira was his city after all, he had to protect it—and Sheena had went back in to get him. Lloyd was there too, probably flying along inside the vent system or something. Kratos was at the head of the angels and Mithos was inside too. Genis didn't think this would end well for anyone.
Marta had gone in to find Brute, the leader of the Vanguard and her father, to try to "reason with him." As if she thought that the group wanted to help her save her father and the worlds. Of course they didn't. All they cared about, or so it would seem when everyone came clean, was getting rid of Ratatosk.
As Genis rained hellfire on a group of humans dressed in the armor and masks that marked them as Vanguard soldiers, he recalled the latest chilling realization that had come to the group's attention: Ratatosk wasn't on Marta's forehead, as they'd originally believed, but Emil was Ratatosk. The specifics eluded Emil, but he understood that they would have to kill Emil to seal the door to the underworld. Some of their undercover Desians had overheard a man, Richter Abend, speaking with the Centurion of Water about this.
This meant that Emil would die, and so, too, would Marta, because Genis knew that she would stand in their way no matter what, as long as she thought she could save Emil. Even if she believed there was no hope, she would die with the boy she loved.
Because that's how this shit worked, wasn't it?
As they had known would happen, the Desians approached and overtook the Vanguard, leaving Genis, Presea, and Raine in their wake, the corpses of dead men and women surrounding their feet.
Presea was as cold and emotionless as ever, but when Genis looked at his sister's face, he saw silvery tears sliding down her cheeks. She knew what was to come; she knew that they were going to destroy Emil and Marta all because that's what the price to save the world was.
And it was all Lloyd's fault.
They raced forward, up elevators and flights of steps to meet with Emil, Marta, Tenebrae, Zelos, and Martel. It was time to face Brute and end the Vanguard. Marta looked so…strong, determined to save her father, but sadness, tiredness marked her person as well. Genis was glad that she didn't know that hidden, unannounced to their little party of three, the building was now filled with Angels and Desians.
Brute would die tonight.
When they entered, there was no battle; they were simply the distraction, making way for the main show: Mithos.
Genis could tell, using mana, that every "Vanguard soldier" in the room was actually a Desian, a half-elf working for Mithos. The only human that wasn't a part of their twisted group was Brute, and he stood proudly, waiting for them.
"You thought that I would simply hand myself over? Marta, get away from them! They know nothing of the greatness of Sylvarant!" barked Brute the minute they entered, but the group ignored him; in fact, they were far too busy preparing the way for Mithos to bother to pay attention to what he was saying.
Marta was too busy shouting for her father to pay attention, to realize that he was possessed by the power of a Centurion's Core, to notice that the group had backed away from her and Emil. Emil was too caught up with Marta's anger to notice anything either. It wasn't until the Desian soldiers attacked on cue and the five of them held the man back, pulling his weapons away and shackling him.
Marta and Emil turned questioning eyes to the group, "W-what's going on? Who are these people and what are they doing to my Daddy!" cried Marta as Emil pulled out his sword, advancing on the Desians. "Raine? Colette? …Genis?" whispered the girl hopelessly. "Please, you guys, what's going on…?"
Their answer came through the door. The huge office doors parting to allow the figures of Lloyd, Kratos, and Lord Yggdrasill inside. First came Lloyd and Kratos, dressing in dwarven red, Lloyd strolled in side-by-side with his father, between them they hoisted a half-conscious half-elf: Richter Abend. Mithos came behind them, looking like an angelic child, or he would have had his eyes not been dark and haunted and delighted at the scene before him. He had successfully taken down the Vanguard and had Ratatosk right where he wanted him.
The group respectfully averted their eyes as their leaders approached and Brute hissed explicates. "Who the hell are you?" He addressed Kratos, as he was the eldest of the group. "What are you doing here? And with the Hero Lloyd Irving too…" He spat at the ground.
Kratos didn't bother to answer, he and Lloyd simply stepped to the side, merging with the group and allowing Mithos to step into the spotlight.
"I am Mithos Yggdrasill, you pathetic inferior being. The leader of Cruxis and the Desians."
Brute growled more insults and was choked by a Desian for a moment at a motion from Mithos. Then, the boy turned to Emil and Marta, a sickly sweet smile plastered on his perfect lips. "Actually, he," Mithos jerked his head toward Brute, "is not the reason that I've come all this way. You, Emil, are the purpose for my visit."
"W-wait!" choked Marta, "Did you say Cruxis and the Desians, but how—!"
"That is something I do not expect you to be able to get your tiny head around, girl."
"You will not speak to my daughter in that manner you son of a bitch!" shouted Brute from behind him. Mithos' eyes hardened and Genis, along with the entire room, held their breath as Mithos turned toward him, murder written in his features.
"…you will not speak at all, human," hissed Mithos, and, without blinking, he shot a ball of blinding angelic mana at the Vanguard leader's chest. It was instant death the second that the mana touched him. The Desians let go of him, his body sagging at an unnatural angle and it collapsed, eyes open and glazed with lifelessness on the carpeted floor.
"No! Daddy!" Marta's scream was horror-filled and agonized and Genis turned slightly to look at the rest of the group, silently begging anybody to stop Mithos, to help Marta. No one moved. Raine looked away, tears again streaming down her cheeks, Martel, once more willing than ever to yell at Mithos for his stupidity, stayed silent and looked away, unable to cry, and Lloyd. Lloyd, his former best friend, started straight on and said nothing, allowed no emotion to show on his face as the man died before his eyes.
But Mithos wasn't finished, he turned to the man between Kratos and Lloyd and strolled over to him, ignoring the shocked Emil and the mortified and sobbing Marta and kicked Richter savagely, "That boy, Emil, he is Ratatosk, yes?" Mithos did not ask so much for conformation as for affect as these words sunk in for both Emil and Marta, they both froze.
Richter raised his eyes to look at Emil and, slowly, he nodded, "…yes. That's him."
A slow, evil smile split Mithos' lips, "Excellent."
Without so much as a second thought, Mithos killed Richter, the man sunk to his knees and collapsed, much in the same way Brute had.
But no one cried out for Richter Abend.
Especially not Lloyd Irving.
…
Yuan was the guardian of the Tree Yggdrasill and its Goddess, Colette. He found it odd; he had always thought of Martel as the Goddess, and now it was Colette, the Chosen of Sylvarant, that was in her place. Perhaps odd was the wrong word, Yuan thought bitterly. Horrible was better.
He had not waited for Mithos and the others long, they had set out at midday and it was only a few hours later that they returned. Yuan doubted that news of the destroyed Vanguard had even spread yet, but Mithos, along with Kratos, Martel, and the Regeneration Group came into the mist-filled clearing that housed the great Tree.
With them came two children, Emil—Ratatosk—and Marta. They would soon be dead, Yuan thought sadly, but perhaps the sooner the better. Life wouldn't last much longer at the rate they were going, even with the Tree to give mana.
"…I trust the plan went off without a hitch, then?" Yuan asked, keeping the bitter hatred out of his voice.
"Everything went fine, thank you Yuan. And this boy really is Ratatosk." Mithos smiled at his old friend. Yuan did nothing in return.
Martel did not stop with the others but went straight to Yuan; the half-elf folded his beloved into his arms and let her sob against his chest. She alone of the group allowed her weakness to show, because she alone of the group could. Mithos would not blame her, he would were it anyone else in tears. Martel had not signed up for this, they had.
"W-what's going on here!" demanded the boy, the girl couldn't: she was crying too hard. "I'm not Ratatosk! Ratatosk is on Marta's forehead!"
For a moment, no one answered; Mithos was tired of talking, and the rest of the group did not feel as if they could speak after what they'd done. It was Lloyd who finally opened his mouth. "That's the lie, actually. Ratatosk created a body for himself and erased his own memories as a method of protection, putting the decoy Core on Marta's forehead to throw those hunting him off his trail."
"B-but how! I'm Emil, not Ratatosk!"
"You adopted a dead boy's life, created a back-story for yourself. Fake memories, all in the name of self-preservation." Emil's eyes had gone blank as he realized that Lloyd was telling the truth. He looked away.
When Lloyd tried to speak again, no sound came out, and Yuan took over. He had no emotional ties to this boy. He could speak. "We brought you here so that we could explain this to you and then transfer you to the gate between our world and the world of demons where we will return you to your core-form and use your life force, along with the force of your Centurions to keep the door closed. That was our goal."
"How are you the leader of Cruxis and the Desians? How does Cruxis have a leader in the first place, that'd make you an angel!"
Mithos shrugged off Emil's question with a smirk, "Kratos is an angel, you know that already, why can't I be one? Yuan's an angel, Martel is an angel, Wilder is an angel."
"Martel is an angel?" hissed Emil, "What the hell!"
Martel broke away from Yuan to smile sadly at Ratatosk, "I am Martel. Colette Brunel…gave herself to me so that I may live again. She lives with the Tree now." The woman motioned to tiny Tree that was growing next to the spring behind them.
"But this is beside the point," snapped Mithos, waving his hand through the air as one would to clear smoke. "The point is Emil—or should I say Ratatosk—that you will die."
…
Fate was a bitch, a damn bitch. Some things were meant to be, Lloyd knew that, but that didn't mean that he had to like it. It didn't mean that, even after he'd lost, he would just go quietly along with it. Lloyd would drag his feet the whole way. Or so he'd thought.
It was harder than that though, much harder. Because eventually everyone started to lose hope, even Lloyd.
It was hard to keep your chin up when everything you did put someone in danger, or killed someone, or caused the destruction of, say, Palmacosta. Or when your friends decided to blame everything on you. Or when you, for once in your life, try to talk to your newly-found Dad and it turns out he's practically dead on the inside after everything that has happened. Or when you find out you're completely alone, and that everyone you cared about or…or thought you loved, has left you to wallow in your failure despite the fact that you'd have done anything for them if they were in your situation.
Yeah, staying optimistic wasn't an easy task when you're the one doing the bad stuff.
The Seal between the worlds, lying just beneath the Otherwordly Gate, was, at best, a dark and desolate hell-hole. Complete with the added touch of the Monster Graveyard. The group was silent as they took their prisoner to his final resting place at the Gate. Emil and Marta refused to talk, and that suited everyone fine, considering no one quite dared open their mouths in Mithos' presence. Lloyd didn't doubt that, at the face Zelos was making, the first thing out of his mouth would be an expletive. He was obviously trying to keep it in until he was out of Mithos' "holy" presence.
Lloyd and his father walked apart from the group, behind with Mithos and Martel, like some sort of personal guard. Ratatosk's presence kept the monsters of the Gate at bay while they made their way through layers of guard doors and traps.
Lloyd's fingers danced over his blades as his father had taught him years ago and kept a constant look-out for the enemy that wasn't there and wouldn't come; his father did the same mere feet away. Ahead of them, the prisoners—Ratatosk and Marta—marched, each surrounded by a guard of Lloyd's old friends as they made their way deeper. The air was frigid, or so it seemed from the way their warm breath steamed around their faces, and the humans shivered. There weren't a whole lot of true humans left to them anymore. Sheena, Presea, Regal—and Regal wasn't even there, he'd been injured during the Altamira siege and Mithos had let him stay behind. Lloyd had insisted, not that Regal needed to hear that.
They turned another corner, and Lloyd sighed softly, too softly for even Mithos to hear. There had been traps set for them, traps to stop this very thing from happening, but Mithos had had even more foresight than the ancient Spirit and he'd easily led them through safely. Lloyd would have liked to just end it there and then, but that's not how his life worked.
Finally, they stood before it: the door that sealed the gateway between their world—a world of mana—and the realm of the demons.
Presea, who had been charged with guarding Ratatosk, forced him onto his knees, Zelos did the same with Marta, and Mithos moved before the two of them, his lips pulled into a triumphant smirk. "Ratatosk," he tittered, his voice high with his Mithos form, "I give you a choice, sacrifice yourself and seal the Door, save the world, of your own accord…or we'll do it for you."
"No! No you can't! There has to be another way to seal the door and let Emil remain alive! Please, if you're truly the Goddess and the Lord of the Angels, then you must have mercy!"
Lloyd glanced back at Martel only to see a single tear slip down her cheek at Marta's words: there was nothing any of them could do; nothing because Mithos would stop them. Mithos could do anything he liked.
"Foolish girl, even if there were a way to do both, Ratatosk is a threat, one that I judge best neutralized." Perhaps the one thing scarier than Yggdrasill pissed was Mithos pissed. "And my word is law."
Indeed it was.
Mithos turned to Lloyd, his eyes cruel blue pits, just as they had been the day that he crushed them, and Lloyd knew that he would win again. And every time. "Kill him."
Orders Lloyd was so accustomed to following, his hands were removing his swords from their places and he was striding forward before the command had truly registered. But he was this far already, why not finish the job?
Emil's green eyes glittered with fury as he watched Lloyd approach him, "I'm just a seal to you, Hero; I get that, but let Marta go! She's never done anything to you!"
"She gets in the way." Mithos dismissed the idea. "Do it now Lloyd."
And Lloyd did, because he didn't have any other choice.
…
Mithos watched as the girl with the fake Core on her forehead screamed and thrashed against the Chosen of Tethe'alla, trying desperately to get to her dying lover. He felt himself chuckle slightly and two sets of eyes, Martel's tear-stained and Kratos' empty, set on him. He sensed their fear: he basked in it.
The Chosen was no longer able to withhold the tormented human girl and she broke away from her captors and raced to the dying boy's side.
"Emil!" her tormented screams echoed around the cavern and Mithos smile grew. "Emil, no please, no! I love you, oh Emil…my prince, no…please. Someone! Someone help him! Raine, please! Zelos!" She called fruitlessly to her "friends", but none came to her rescue. "Anyone…"
The boy was dead, his red blood staining the walkway. The body began to disappear; golden sparks of mana took away the mass of extra muscle and bone to leave only a red-gold Core. Ratatosk's Core. Mithos strolled forward casually and plucked the gem from Marta's scrabbling fingers, holding it up in the light and smiling with what he saw.
The girl let out another anguished scream and pounced on him. Mithos, being rather distracted by his prize, did not react in time and was suddenly attacked by the screaming girl. He hissed and broke away from her, only to have her follow him, her fingernails scrapping across his perfect skin.
Mithos snarled and lashed out at her, mana at his fingertips, and girl and power collided; the girl could not win. Her lifeless body fell to the ground at Mithos' feet, but he did not spare her a second glance as he was searching his arms for any real damage. Thankfully, there seemed to be none.
The group, on the other hand, seemed focused on the dead girl.
"Mithos…" Genis whimpered, "Mithos, why did you…?"
"She attacked me!" he sounded indignant, "It was self-defense."
"So you murdered her?"
Mithos shrugged, "Another worthless inferior being lost, I don't think it matters all that much." He ignored the rest of whatever Genis was going to say in favor of his prize.
He had won again, and this time against an even more powerful opponent. He had not even let Ratatosk become powerful enough to realize himself on his own, he'd taken the bastard down in seconds, and, better yet, he had hardly had to lift a finger to do it.
He had Lloyd do everything.
This was truly Mithos Yggdrasill's world, when even his enemies bowed before his power and did as he said. Nothing would ever stop him again.