Darkness surrounded him. He tried to remain calm, to remain sane, but it was difficult. The darkness seemed to seep into his every thought. Everything was a blur—everything but the guilt. The guilt was still crystal clear.
It had been inevitable, hadn't it? Ever since the fall of Cocoon, he'd tried to keep the world from falling apart, but he'd never been strong enough. Never capable enough. He'd become the leader of the world, but it still hadn't been enough. It hadn't even been enough to bring her home.
She'd fought an endless war all on her own, and he hadn't been able to give her any kind of support. Not even once. She'd called him her partner, but he'd always known he didn't deserve the title. He was nothing compared to her. She was Light, in every sense of the word. To keep up with her, to protect the world from his realm as she'd protected it from Valhalla, he'd needed to be more than just Director Hope Estheim. He'd needed more power.
So he'd become a god. The urge to protect everyone—to protect her—had awakened something terrible within him. He'd created a world of his own, and he'd named it Bhunivelze. There was some strange, poetic kind of justice in that. He'd played God, and then God had played him. Hard.
And now, here he was. He'd told her goodbye, and then he'd disappeared.
Bhunivelze had separated him from his body, but he still seemed live on within the god. He no longer had any eyes of his own to see with, but that didn't make him blind. Everything around him was cloaked in endless, impenetrable darkness, but he could still take in the outside world through the eyes of Bhunivelze. What Bhunivelze felt, he felt. And now, Bhunivelze was afraid.
The god had set up this trial thinking Lightning would become his new goddess of death if she managed to defeat him. He'd been wrong. If she managed to defeat him, he would die.
Lightning stood tall in her dark armor, once again raising her sword. She was breathing heavily and sweat trickled down her temples, but she showed no signs of slowing down. Centuries had passed since her fate was taken away from her, and she was still fighting to save the world. She was Light, shining brighter than ever. Powerful. Relentless. Gorgeous. She truly looked like a goddess.
"My beautiful goddess," the god rumbled. Hope's heart—if he still had one, he wasn't sure—skipped a beat. That wasn't something Bhunivelze was supposed to say. Bhunivelze wasn't supposed to have that kind of feelings.
"Offer yourself to me. Submit your body to me."
The words echoed through him, strange yet frighteningly familiar. Hope felt like he'd been punched in the gut. No. Please don't. He wished he could shut it all out, but he had no hands to cover his ears with. Don't say it. Don't say it like that. Bhunivelze seemed to have access to his deepest emotions, and when the god twisted them like that… he didn't want to hear it. His love for Light wasn't exactly pure—he'd learned that the hard way when Bhunivelze had created the rose-haired phantom for him—but it wasn't like that. Light wasn't his. He had no right to make demands like that—and neither had Bhunivelze.
Lightning attacked again, seemingly unfazed by the god's words. Bhunivelze's fear intensified. It seemed like he was finally understanding what he was dealing with. In the hopes of making her his new goddess, he'd given more power than a mere human being should ever possess. Now, that power was turning against him, and he hadn't seen it coming. He no longer wanted to eternally adore her. He wanted to punish her. Another feeling he wasn't supposed to feel washed through both him and Hope—betrayal.
Bhunivelze couldn't understand why she was defying him. He simply couldn't. To him, it didn't make sense. He'd offered her the chance of ruling the world with him. Why would she defy him?
Because she's Lightning Farron, Hope thought proudly. She makes her own fate. She listens to no one.
She listened to you.
Hope's mind turned blank. It was like the world stood still. Bhunivelze wasn't supposed to hear the voices of souls. He was only supposed to hear the voices of the living—the ones who still had alive, functioning bodies, which Hope clearly didn't.
Bhunivelze wasn't supposed to have feelings. He wasn't supposed to hear the voice of a soul he happened to absorb. But, if he happened to fuse with that absorbed soul, what then?
Hope cried out, but he couldn't make a sound. The truth was there, but he didn't want to accept it. Being Bhunivelze's plaything, his eyes and even his vessel was one thing. Becoming him was something completely different. He didn't want this. He didn't want to take part in this.
Stop it, he screamed, but he wasn't sure if Bhunivelze could hear him. A plan took form in Bhunivelze's mind—a plan he would never have understood without the use of Hope's emotions.
Bhunivelze's body began to shrink. Pieces of his intricate armor fell to the floor. Lightning's eyes widened.
"Hope?"
Bhunivelze raised his hands. Hope could tell the god had expected them to be several sizes smaller.
You destroyed the remolded body, remember? This is my real one. The one you thought was too impure for you.
The god was not pleased. He turned back to Lightning, whose face had hardened again.
"You and your puppets," she said in a low voice. "Did you really think I'd buy that? I know it's not him." She raised her sword again and rushed towards Bhunivelze's humanoid body.
Bhunivelze had yet another idea, and then, something changed. Hope wasn't sure what, but something definitely did. From one moment to the next, everything suddenly felt slightly different. He glanced up at Lightning. She was still approaching him at a dangerous velocity. Bhunivelze was weak, and she looked more determined than ever. This was how the god's life was going to end. Hope looked down. And mine.
At first, he didn't even think about it, but then it hit him.
"I can move," he mumbled, slowly raising his hands. Unfamiliar markings covered his skin, but the hands were undoubtedly his. A smile tugged at his lips. He'd only made a qualified guess back then, but now he knew for sure. This was his real body. It was nice, knowing he'd get to spend his final moments as his true self.
Lightning was close now. She cried out as closed the final distance between them, raising her sword—and then she stopped. Frozen in place, she just stared at him. Her hands trembled.
"That smile . . . you're not just a puppet, are you?" she whispered. "You're him. You're Hope."
He considered denying it, but it wouldn't make a difference. Lightning knew him too well.
"Hey, Light."
"Is this a trap?"
"Probably, yeah."
She looked at him from head to toe, a wrinkle appearing between her eyebrows. "When did you get so tall?"
A grin grazed his lips. "I wasn't always five-foot-nothing, you know."
Lightning's cheeks darkened in color. "I knew that. I just… I didn't think you'd be taller than me."
Oh, Maker. She was blushing. Lightning Farron was blushing. He felt his own cheeks heat up as well. He'd dreamed of this moment for centuries—the reunion that would make her see him as a man instead of the whiny little boy she once knew. In those dreams, he always took her in his arms afterwards, and somewhere along the line, they found a happily-ever-after together. But that wasn't how this reunion was going to go. There was no happily ever after in store for him—not with Bhunivelze still around.
He lowered his head. This was not going to be easy.
"I'm sorry, Light," he said, "but I think you're going to have to kill me."
She took a step back, staring at him. "What?"
He felt a strange pull coming from within. This was what Bhunivelze had been waiting for. Lightning was distracted, and the god wanted the body back. He pushed, but Hope pushed back. Kill her, the god's voice whispered. Kill her, kill her, kill her.
Hope shook his head. Not going to happen.
Kill her. End her. Punish her. Destroy her.
A golden scythe materialized in his hands. He stared. That was not his weapon. That was Bhunivelze's. Shit. His control was faltering.
"I don't know for how long I can hold him," he said through gritted teeth. "Light, if you want to defeat Bhunivelze, you need to kill me. Soon."
"No." She stuck out her chin, stubborn as ever. "There has to be something else we can do. Something that will kill Bhunivelze and not you."
He gave her a melancholic smile. "I don't think that's possible anymore." His hands shook as he struggled to hold the scythe down. Kill her. End her. Punish her. "We . . . merged. I don't know where I end and he begins anymore. I'm him, Light. I'm Bhunivelze. If you want to kill him . . . you're going to have to kill me."
Lightning just stood there. "But I can't," she said, her voice trembling. "Not you. I thought I was prepared for the possibility, but . . . no. No. I can't do it. I won't."
"But you have to—"
"I know what I have to do!" she exclaimed. "I understand it. Believe me, I do. But I can't do it."
He nodded slowly. Forcing her to do this was just cruel. He knew what he had to do.
It was time to pay back for all the misery he'd brought into the world. This was his atonement for trying to play God. It wouldn't take away his guilt—nothing ever could—but it was something. Something only he could do.
With trembling hands, he raised his scythe as Bhunivelze's chanting got louder and louder in his head. The commands where overwhelming now—kill her, end her, punish her—but he was still in control. He took a deep breath and plunged the blade into his chest.
Bhunivelze roared inside him. Lightning gasped and took a step towards him, raising her hands, but then she stopped. He had to die, and she knew it too. There was no way around it.
He smiled at her—and then, the pain hit him. It hurt. It hurt like hell. He fell to his knees. The pain was nauseating. He'd wished for his own death countless of times during the centuries Bhunivelze remolded his body, but now, he was afraid. Dying was frightening.
"It's okay." Lightning was suddenly by his side, kneeling next to him. "I won't leave you. I brought this upon us all when I failed to protect Etro, but I'm going to make up for it. We'll meet again soon."
He frowned. What was that supposed to mean? He tried to ask her, but started coughing instead. Judging by the metallic aftertaste on his tongue, he was coughing blood. His internal organs were failing.
Lightning stroked his hair. "It's okay. I'm here."
He stared up at her. Her blue eyes were shimmering with tears, but they were still as strong and as beautiful as ever.
"I'm sorry . . . for not being strong enough," he croaked. "For never finding Valhalla . . . for . . . failing . . . you . . ."
"You never failed me. Never. Without you, the world would have ended centuries ago. It was your strength that kept everyone going for all these years." She placed her forehead against his. "You're the greatest partner anyone could ever have hoped for."
She was so close to him. He felt the warmth of her breath on his skin. Her eyes showed nothing but love and respect for him. His gaze fell to her lips. Soft. Perfect. In a final act of strength, he cupped her face in his hands and kissed her.
She gasped in surprise, but made no move to pull away from him. He kissed her softly, gently, until she finally kissed him back. Her lips moved tentatively against his. He made a sound at the back of his throat and deepened the kiss. It was everything he'd ever dreamt of and more.
He kissed her until his body could no longer remain upright. He collapsed hard on the floor. The cosmogenesis with all its planets and stars turned grey and blurry. The only color he could see was a hint of pink out of the corner of his eye. He smiled. Lightning was here, and she was going to take care of the rest. Bhunivelze had faded into nothingness within him, unable to live without his vessel and his merged human soul. The world was saved. His work was done.
He stared up at the rose-colored blur. Just knowing that it was truly her this time gave him peace. No phantom. No hallucination. She was there.
"I love you," he whispered and closed his eyes. He never opened them again.
#
The goddess of death sits on her throne, her eyes fixed on the sea of never-ending chaos. A dark cloud hovers around her. Sometimes, it takes on a vaguely humanoid shape; a man with silvery hair and a white and yellow suit. The soul could have reincarnated long ago, but it never does. It stays by the goddess' side.
Together, they watch over the souls of the dead. They will continue to do so for all eternity.
The sins they carry in their hearts will never fade. This is their atonement.
