Shouting. Shouting and screaming and crying and Dona knows what it means, even if she doesn't understand the words. "Why?" she screams; Isaaru holds her back. "Why? Let me fight!"
"No!" A blond man shouts with a horrible accent comprised of Al Bhed and blood and pain. "Protect you! We protect you!"
Dona shrieks, wrenching one arm from Isaaru's grip and clawing at his eyes. She didn't become a Summoner to be protected. She became a Summoner so she can protect Spira, and if that means saving damned Al Bhed from the Holy Yevon than that is what she will do – as soon as Isaaru lets her go.
"Let me go!" The words that burst from her burn her lips, and her eyes. This isn't how it is supposed to go. She is supposed to defeat Sin and die and save everyone – not the other way around. "Let me go!"
"No, Dona," Isaaru whispers in her ear. "We wait."
She shrieks again, not a word, just a desperate, broken sound. Tears roll down her face, leaving tracks in the dust on her cheeks. All around her, the Al Bhed are dying and dying and dying for her and she can't do anything.
Isn't she supposed to be the sacrifice?