He's shingles and serpent beach is in his mouth. The shore never rests. He will swallow the sky and all things will move without motion.
"Give me strength," she said.
Her tongue brushes against the back of her teeth, her voice almost falters. The staff in her hands feels dry, she might drop it, it might brake like a brittle little toothpick.
All the world's oceans groan in her. He slips through her soul, over the chains that bind the ten others, but the hole he burns in her squeezes them out to the fringes of her heart, the fringes of her breath. He is her lungs. He his her sweat. He is her shaking knees and turning eyes and quivering, swiveling stomach that threatens to fall open.
But he answers her command. He gives her strength.
Her knees turn solid. Her heart goes slow. Her breath is no longer of a bird's, sobbing in her hand.
There is nothing left but this. There is nothing left but this ecstasy, this sheer and full and flowing ecstacy that warps around her and washes out her brain. There's brine in her mouth. She tastes the salt. And the sun. And his laugh sweeps over her tongue.
He is here. He is here. He is here.
That is what he tells her.
And then he rips apart her rib cage.
Her eyes flake blue and green, the whole world is gone in a speckle of black dots. She hears Sin, overhead, but she is spinning - her staff is a part of her, her staff is a toothpick. She shes Kimarhi breaking it apart, sees him mounting it on a statute too big for her, too small for her, a thorn pocking out her head.
She laughs, no, she's seeing none of this. She refuses. No more Auron, no more Lulu hands and Wakka-hymns, no more Rikku-laughs. There is only the water. There is only the world.
A brilliant, flaming sun pulses in her lungs, pulses in her heart, her liver, her spine. Everything hurts. Everything floats. She sees the black dots swirl, she sees the ocean wave hurtling above her, she catches that incredible, blazing white dot piercing through the water.
She could catch it, could she do that? And pass it to him? He'd roll the sun itself into Sin… would everything go dark, after that? Everything was already going dark.
He's catching feathers from her wedding dress.
He's wearing them like a mustache, he's laughing at Mika. He's talking about some thing she doesn't understand. He's dreaming of a world she'll never see.
He shows her the city. She breathes in the lights. The ocean roars in her ears.
There is only this, there is only this.
"Thank you."
She sees the foam above her. The wave begins to falter, Sin is coming closer. It will break, and her, too.
Say my name.
Crystals of black and gold, her spine is crunching, she's spin, spin, spinning forever. His laugh is in her ear, his Zanarkand has grown in her belly and her bones are the buildings (so tall she'll get dizzy) and her organs are all the beautiful colours, red and brilliant and shining - her eyes the lights, her heart the blitzball stadium, pulsing life all through the city whose only concern was pleasure.
Say my name.
He wants her to call him, call him before it all ends. Her lips turn into a frown.
Wouldn't you rather I whistle it?
There's a softness that opens, vanilla and cream, stuffed animals. She reaches up, tosses her staff high into the sky.
Say my name.
The wave is coming down. Sin roars in anguish. Everything goes silent.
"Leviathan."