Author's Note: Possible vague/slight spoilers and rampant headcanon contained within.
They stand together, a waiting mass of anonymous figures hidden in robes. No one moves, no one speaks. Above them, six glowing eyes set in triangular head dance along a serpentine neck, the mouth under the eyes is large enough to take in a few of them at a time, but no one seems bothered.
Really, no one seems to be quite alive.
"You see, my children?" The Bringer Of The End hisses, and it's hard to tell if it's male or female. No one responds, or even acknowledges they hear. "We shall take the world!"
For a few moments more, there is silence, then a ripple. A delicate, pale hand clenches. Under hoods, eyes blink, feet shift, and there is a collective inhale as their minds seem to suddenly come alive, or free, or-"Chrom..."
The broken-hearted, single word comes out as a whimper from under the hood of an average-sized robe. The only indication of gender of the figure underneath comes from its voice and the long-fingered, pale hands poking out from the sleeves. Among the dozens of anons, this one is female. Those around her shift even more. Heads lift and shake, like dogs flinging off water, and the name is taken up in whispers, repeated by the others in both wonder and horror.
Slowly, other names fill the air, spoken wistfully and lovingly. "Lucina..." the first woman murmurs, and a male figure next to her gives a jolt of surprise.
"Lucina!" he gasps, as though suddenly remembering something very important.
"Gregor..." A taller feminine figure lifts a hand to her chest, both sounding and looking heartbroken.
"Morgan!" someone calls, and this name is taken up and repeated as frequently as "Chrom," and slightly more often than "Lucina," but other names are repeated rapidly, and the single name murmurs and shouts become a cacophony. The dragon's head shifts, looking at all of it's suddenly speaking "children". Six red eyes inspect the rebels for a few moments before it registers the change.
Slowly, ever so slowly, it is losing ground. The future is changing, and it is beyond the End-Bringer's control now. It lets out a furious roar that makes the darkness tremble, but the response it receives is even more rage worthy.
The first speaker smiles as she pulls back the hood hiding her face to reveal fierce brown eyes and dimly gleaming, copper colored hair. Around her, others follow suit, revealing the same eyes and the same colored hair in varying styles.
"We shall take the world!" The dragon repeats angrily, punctuating the words with a roar, but the first speaker only shakes her head.
"No, no we will not," she speaks up, looking to the six red eyes in the dimness.
"Not like how you want," the taller man next to her adds.
"We shall take the world...but from you," the woman who had called out the name Gregor before says fiercely.
"You will not win. We won't let you!" a few more call.
"For the children! For our friends!" others shout resolutely.
"For Chrom," the first woman breathes in addition, then speaks louder, at the same time as every other incarnation of herself does.
"I...will change fate!" The collective defiant shout rings out louder than the cacophony of names did earlier. The dragon lets out another world-trembling roar, and the robed figures began to fade away one by one.
"We will die!" the dragon snarls, and this is met with humorless laughter from those still present. "To change the future is to kill us all!"
"But many others will live," a few reply in unison. The first woman flashes a brilliant smile.
"And that's a tactician's job-to save lives. Two lives? Or hundreds, maybe thousands? Which lives do we save? The choice is obvious. We will gladly disappear if we must." She and those around her have begun to fade out as well, they are the last to go.
Her parting words to the dragon, to herself, ring out in the darkness long after she and all the others have disappeared. "Especially to save those we love."
As the dragon gives its loudest roar yet, across many parallel universes, robed figures begin to wake in fields with no memory of how they got there to soft voices, two pairs of blue eyes, a warm smile, and a strong arm.
And so begins the fall of the Bringer Of The End.