This is actually a partial-AU, based on an interpretation of the boss fight. I wondered, "What was Hope thinking during that battle? Could his soul have actually been conscious in some way?" and thus this fic was born. I took a few liberties with some of the dialogue, and even chose Japanese phrases in favour of the localized dialogue in some places (well, in one very specific place). Please R&R and let me know what you think!

Inspired by the theme "Heaven" for dekafeene. I hope you like it!

Disclaimer: I do not own FFXIII or its characters.

His Light

When Hope Estheim opened his eyes, he was no longer himself.

He saw a shadowy battlefield, bathed in ethereal light; the souls of all humanity suspended in the sky above, twinkling like stars. But he had no memory of how he had gotten there. Gradually, he realised that he no longer had a body to return to, and that his soul had taken refuge within the form of the God, Bhunivelze. No… the God of Light had stolen his soul and locked it away inside Himself.

He remembered seeing his body, his limbs moving, gesticulating. Words had flowed from his mouth, or what had once been his mouth; words that he had not understood, nor wished to speak. They had been directed towards a rose-haired woman, poised for combat. A feeling of familiarity had welled up inside him, but he could not put a name to her face.

And now, he was watching their battle through the eyes of Bhunivelze. A mortal woman, fighting a God…no, she was more than just mortal. He could hear Bhunivelze's thoughts – she would become the Goddess of Death.

But as time passed, he began to see her strength wane. She was beyond human, but not entirely immortal. Not yet. God was testing her, to see if she was worthy. And as he threw his weapon at her, dealing blow after blow, she paused to catch her breath, if for a moment. But it was all he needed. With his final attack, he struck her down.

'Light, no!'

Those words flew through his mind and he did not understand why. "Light"…was it a name? Her name? It seemed like an unfitting name for the Goddess of Death, but somehow it tugged at his heart. So familiar.

It was then that he realised that he was screaming. Crying out, pleading for her to return to life. He did not have a physical form, so it should not have been possible. Bhunivelze had taken his body and his voice, but he could still hear his own screams resonating within his mind, even as the radiant God towered silently over her lifeless body.

He realised that he did not want her to die.

Why? If Bhunivelze thought her unworthy, did she not deserve death? But with every blow that had made contact, her every grunt of pain had made him wince.

And now she lay before him, dead.

Then, he saw it. Feathers seemed to cascade around her, appearing from thin air and pooling around her form. A white light enveloped her, breathing life into her as she rose from the ground. Protective barriers materialised, and the magic rolled off her in waves as she took her stance. "Not yet," she grunted, wiping a trickle of blood from the corner of her mouth, and the simple, familiar words warmed his heart yet again.

He did not understand why his soul felt the way it did, but he knew the consequences all too well. A battle such as this would only end if one of them died. If his soul ceased to lend the God strength, then it would only be a matter of time, and eventually He would fall. But if Bhunivelze was killed, he, too, would cease to exist. He knew this, and yet he embraced the new emotions that washed over him, accepting his fate with a faceless smile.

Because if it meant that she would live, he would die a thousand times over.

xxxxx

Darkness was everywhere, in everything he saw as he descended into an eternal abyss. He could not remember how long he had been falling, or how much further he had to go. It seemed like an eternity, and yet, not a moment had passed. He could not remember who he was, whether he was meant to be alive or dead. The only memory he had was that of a cold fog enveloping him, clouding his senses. Slowly, more memories began to rearrange themselves – memories of being controlled and absorbed by a God; memories of a never-ending battle, and a rose-haired woman.

He did not realise that he was standing upright until his feet came into contact with a solid surface. He looked down only to see darkness, as if he was standing on nothing. All around him, the nothingness stretched for miles and miles.

'So this is my fate,' he mused. 'Banished to a realm of emptiness. A fitting end for God's puppet.'

He smiled sadly, and this time he felt the corners of his mouth turn upwards. 'It's ironic…now, I actually have a form of my own.' It was still the form of a soul, but a form nonetheless.

Memories still managed to elude him. He had no recollection of who he had once been, what he had become. He closed his eyes and allowed himself to succumb to the darkness.

Then, through his closed eyelids, he saw a glimmer of light. It was faint, but gradually, it began to grow brighter and brighter, until he could almost feel its warmth upon his skin. Something obscured the light momentarily, and he cracked open his eyes to see what it was. His gaze briefly fell upon a familiar knife before the object vanished into thin air. Only then did he realise that he had raised his hands expectantly, hoping to feel the knife within his grasp.

'I…remember.' Memories of the boy he had been centuries ago began to return to him. He looked up and saw a sparkling new world; a planet created to house humanity. And right above him, smiling down upon him, were the faces of his parents.

His mother extended a hand towards him. He heard a voice echo through his mind, but it was not hers, or his own. It belonged to another.

'Go and live,' it told him, the words laced with warmth. He saw feathers falling from the sky above. 'Is this heaven…?' he asked himself, briefly recalling the rose-haired woman, whose form had been bathed in white light and feathers, as his was now. 'Was she…an angel?'

More memories began to assemble themselves within his mind. He had been older – older and world-weary – the leader of humanity. He had pioneered the creation of a world, much like the one he saw above him now. Only that world had been artificial, crafted by human hands. This one was a planet, made by a God. This one was real.

And yet, the light that radiated from it seemed distant and cold. Unlike the other souls, he was not drawn towards the new world. Something was keeping him here.

'You are their hope.' The voice spoke again.

Hope…he repeated the word over and over again in his mind. 'I am…Hope.'

The last piece fell into place.

I am Hope, and she is…

"…Lightning?"

He felt the tendrils of Chaos beginning to surround him now. They were pulling him back, away from the world of light in the sky. He did not fight it. There was a reason why his soul did not wish to leave this place.

"I can't see you," he said, urgently. "Light, where are you?"

"Don't turn back." This time, her voice rang out clearly through the cloud of Chaos. She was right behind him. If he just turned his head–

Almost as if she could sense his thoughts, she spoke again. "If you turn back, you'll never leave," she told him; her voice soft, yet stern, laced with sorrow. "I have to stay behind and control the Chaos."

Even after defying the God of Light, she was still the only being capable of keeping the Chaos at bay. She would become the Goddess of Death, just as Bhunivelze had willed.

It was wrong.

'You can't!' He wanted to yell in response. 'The world is waiting – Serah, and everyone else is waiting. Let's go together, Light!'

But his mouth refused to move, and the words died in his throat.

"Go. And live," she repeated. This time, he heard the smile in her voice. And this time, he did not hesitate to turn around and reach for her, only to watch as she melted into the darkness without a trace.

"Light!"

The light from the sparkling world was beginning to fade. He knew that he could not go back, but he did not care. His light was here, lost in the sea of Chaos. Centuries ago, she had been his beacon, his mentor and guide. She had saved him from the clutches of despair then, and now, she had freed his soul from Bhunivelze.

He would not let her sacrifice herself for the sake of humanity. This time, he would save her.

The light began to shine again, even brighter this time, and he realised that it was emanating from him. Warmth radiated throughout his entire being, and he felt as though he was being reborn – just as he had witnessed her resurrection on the battlefield. He allowed the light to come forth and envelop his form, using it to guide him through the darkness. He watched, listened for a sign that would lead him to her.

It came in the form of a soft, barely audible plea for help. But it was all he needed.

Without hesitation, he reached into the Chaos. The light bled into the nothingness around him, turning it into an endless realm of grey-white, but he did not stop until he found her floating amidst the void. She looked up at the light, and he saw surprise flicker in her gaze. She really had expected him to leave her behind. 'Even after all this time…'

When they had first been reunited, his memories had held no feelings attached to them. When they had parted ways, he had been nothing more than a fading soul without a body. When he had watched her battle, he had experienced emotions unlike any he had felt in over a century, despite having no memories to connect them to.

But now, he was whole once again. And his smile was genuine as he took her hand and said:

"I heard your voice."