A/N:Hello everybody! It's been a while since I've been here. I replayed the game again and got an interesting twist, so I decided to write a oneshot about it. It does have SPOILERS for Zelos' ending and his death. This is pretty much what happens to him if you talk to Kratos at Flanoir.

C&C always appreciated.

Chosen to Die

It was Lloyd's blade that got him.

He'd been struck down by enemies before. He'd suffered deep gashes or burns or blows, but nothing had ever hurt like the feeling of the cold metal sliding across his stomach. He wavered at first, his body trembling with shock before it finally gave out under him. His blade dropped to the ground next to him, the heavy weight of the shield on his arm dragging him to the cold floors of the Tower of Salvation.

He remembered hearing Sheena's shocked cry and someone call his name, but he couldn't place who. All he could think about was the burning, shredding pain ripping across his lower abdomen. He vaguely realized he was on his back, slowly spreading gloved fingers over his stomach and coming away with blood. A lot of blood. He'd never seen that much blood coming out of him before, and it scared him. Was he really going to die?

His vision started to grey at the edges but he refused to let himself go yet. He wouldn't dare die until he had said what needed to be said. "That… was pretty sad…" The statement was ambiguous, as though it wasn't clear whether he was talking about his life or the battle. Really, it could be either; they were both short, and pathetically tragic.

"Zelos…" The name that escaped Lloyd's lips confused him for a moment, as his fogged brain attempted to figure out exactly who Zelos was. Then he realized that it was his name. His name slipping mournfully from whom he considered to be his best friend. Had he really fallen so far? He almost smiled at the thought.

"…It's okay," Zelos was quick to reassure, keeping the bile down as he continued to speak. The tang of blood was in his mouth as well. Had his lung been punctured? "To tell you the truth, I was getting pretty tired of living anyway…"

It was only partly a lie. Sure, his life had been a big mess, but with Lloyd and the journey to save the two worlds, he'd finally found peace. He felt as though he finally knew what was right and wrong in the world. He finally felt at home. The months spent on the road, joking and messing around with the other guys while flirting shamelessly with the girls of their party were the best he'd ever had. But a part of him knew it would end this way; it was redemption for not being able to save his mother or his sister, or himself really. It was because he'd been too weak to become something other then "the Chosen" who was supposed to die anyway. He was fated to live a short life. He was never meant to be happy.

"Don't talk like that," Lloyd insisted, as though he was worth it. Zelos turned his head to the side, vision slowly blurring as he made out the concerned faces staring down at him. Even in death he had to be the center of attention.

"Oh yeah… about Collette," he struggled, hoping to redeem for his sins. Zelos wished he could do more but he was dying fast. He'd already lost a lot of blood. It was seeping into the stone floor beneath him. It would probably stain long after his body was gone. A stray thought entered his head as he hoped that they would at least have the decency to bury him, instead of leaving him here, with all the other corpses of the failed Chosen before him. "She's down below. In the hall of the Great Seed. Make sure you save her."

"Why did you fight us?" Lloyd demanded, almost angrily. Zelos could barely see a red gloved hand fisting in the material of his jeans, his grip so tight it must've been painful. Zelos couldn't help but smirk slightly once more, wishing he had an answer for that question. Maybe it was because he wanted attention, or because he wanted to help Cruxis. Or maybe it was his own selfish suicide. At that point, he couldn't even remember.

A rough cough worked its way from his throat, painfully tearing its way from his lungs and spilling blood all down the front of his shirt. Yup, a lung was punctured. An instinctual part of him demanded that he ask Raine for healing, but he knew he didn't have the right. Raine would probably laugh at him if he asked.

"Because… my life was a mistake," he wheezed, eyes threatening to give out as his head lolled back against the dampened cement. Memories of his life flashed before him, and for each memory he damned it for resurfacing. An image of his younger sister, smiling appeared in his mind, then replaced by the cold, listless child that had been placed in that Abbey. "But, once I'm gone… Seles might…" he attempted to get out, his eyes falling shut and opening only after being forced. "...be happier… and they'll finally let her out of that Abbey."

"Don't tell me that's why you…" Lloyd started. The dim-witted leader already seemed to be realizing his actions. He smiled bitterly at himself, another harsh cough working its way from his throat. Lloyd wasn't as thick as he looked.

Zelos began to chuckle weakly, feeling the life draining out of him. "Nah…" he said as his eyes slid closed. The effort to keep them open was too much. The blood had leaked out past his hand, trailing down towards the edge of Lloyd's boot. How would his friend feel to know he was standing in a puddle of his blood? "That's just a bonus."

Did he really want to die? The realization that he was truly about to die frightened him on some level, but on another he was ready to accept it. After all, he had been brought up just so he could die. Die as a faceless hero and then be forgotten only a year later. Remembered only as "the Chosen." Remembered simply for the fact that he had switched the mana flow, and then died like every other Chosen before him, simply feeding the endless vicious cycle.

It was getting really hard to breathe, and the world was growing steadily darker. So, he really was going to die… being faced with it head on didn't seem so scary. Or maybe it was the blood loss making him so calm? "Make sure…" he struggled out, gasping as the blood started to pool in his lungs. "That you destroy my Cruxis…cry…stal…"

He couldn't explain why it was so important before the darkness pulled him down. He simply hoped that they heeded to his request as he lay motionless on the ground. He wasn't quite dead, but could no longer speak or move. He couldn't really think much either. All he could do was watch the blood leak out part his gloved fingers. He could feel it seeping into his already crimson hair, his cerulean eyes losing light as he listened to Lloyd and the others stand, preparing to save Colette. After all, that was what was important right now.

He barely heard Sheena's whispered, "Damned idiot..." as she departed. If he had the strength he would've smiled and taunted her, saying she was worried about him. He wished he had the strength to stand up and shake it off, whining that the attack could've bruised his pretty face. Then they would all laugh it off and go defeat Cruxis together. Because that was how it was supposed to be.

He felt a certain emptiness as he listened to the sounds of the large empty tower in death. Would he be remembered at all? Would Lloyd and the others mourn him? Would Sheena? A sudden longing to live washed over him, and if he had the strength he would've cried. Despite the fact that his life had been a joke, a living hell—whatever, it was still his life. He was barely twenty; he didn't want it to end like this.

He wanted to cry, scream, yell, call back for them and desperately plead for Raine to save him, no matter how dire or hopeless the situation. He wanted to live, damnit, whether it was in the new world or the old one.

Even if he knew it was his destiny to die, it didn't couldn't stop the swelling pain in his heart. He knew it had to end like this, but it didn't stop it from hurting. Maybe… if he could reach his sword, it would be enough to keep him grounded long enough to heal himself. He attempted to move, but in the end all he managed to do was smear the blood that had pooled around his arm. His fingers twitched, his muscles refused to do as he wished.

Finally, he stopped struggling, knowing that his soul would live on in the new world. Who knows, maybe he would even be reborn into a happy family. He could only pray to Martel—or whoever it was he was supposed to pray to, that the same mistake wouldn't happen again.

He prayed that no one would have to suffer through the same fate he did; no one would be chosen to go on a journey to regenerate either world. He prayed Lloyd would succeed, and he prayed for his friend's happiness. He prayed… for his own happiness too, in the next life. And he prayed for Colette as well. He prayed she could do what he couldn't; go against the fate set out for the Chosen. They were never saviors. They weren't Chosen of Mana either.

They were simply chosen to die.

With that thought, Zelos let a small smile slip on his lips as he let himself fall into unconsciousness, and then, death.