Prelude: Dusk

It has been five hundred years since the world fell apart. The six l'Cie, in search of true freedom, have found their journey forcefully terminated. Time has stopped for the inhabitants of this strange world. A mysterious entity known as "chaos" now rules. Entire landmasses have eroded away and been swallowed by the thunderous sea surrounding what is left of the land. The sea has devoured the rest of the world, leading only a small corner, inhabited by a few thousand lone survivors. The whole of existence is perched on the brink of a final oblivion.

During the final thirteen days, something changes.

In the mysterious darkness of the chaos, the suffering that has gone on for centuries has cast a long shadow over all of this planet's existence. The fires of time are still, but not quenched. The whispers of the mysterious "liberator", an entity summoned by the overseer of this new world, have become murmurings as her awakening arrives. There is hope again for the people. Life twists and turns again, but no longer in a circle, as instead it begins to march forward toward the hope of a new world.

But the only hope for this world is complete oblivion. And anyone this "liberator" does not save will be lost along with it, or so it is said.

The Liberator is a young woman, but she does not look young anymore. Her eyes are serious. The lines of her face are hard. When she awoke, her first glimpse of the new reality was the brightest light casting its long shadow, saying that if she does its bidding, her bonds and those of the world's will break. She will get her sister back, she was told, and it is that tentative promise that spurs her into acting upon the wishes of Bhunivelze, the self-proclaimed god of this world, in the hopes of reuniting with her beloved sister.

No matter the cost, she is Lightning, and she will achieve freedom for all.

That will be more difficult than she knows. There are bursts of chaos in the night that the people have feared for centuries, for they bring powerful beasts resembling living shadows that devour those hapless enough to cross their path. No one has been able to vanquish even one of them. The world oozes pandemonium; paranoia creeps through the night as though all are being watched by angels of death.

It is into this maw of shadow the Liberator marches.

The six heroes of old, whose lives have become bedtime stories, whose sacrifices have become legend, whose flaws have been vindicated, are scattered.

And in the fountainhead of the chaos, something has begun to stir.

The Ark is a world displaced from the timestream of the land below, and Lightning is grateful for that – as grateful as she can be without being able to summon any real depth of emotion. For someone who has always felt strongly, the strange sensation of combined nonchalance, flat determination, and apathy would frighten her had she had the ability to feel such a thing, but she has been purged of the unneeded pettiness of emotion.

What remains is steel resolve, and knowing this place will protect her from the dying world under her feet helps her resolve more than this boy could ever know.

This boy, who had once been a man.

Lightning still felt echoes of feelings, but she knew, too, that the price of becoming so powerful had been giving up her emotions. She suspected it was to make her a better tool. That was fine. If being a tool was what it took to save the lives of those perched on the brink of the apocalypse, fine. She could deal with that. If losing her emotions was what it took to make her most effective, then that was the way it had to be. She'd deal, like she always did.

If losing most of what defined her as "human" meant Serah would return, so be it.

The echo she felt upon finding Hope Estheim in the same form she'd first encountered him so long ago could best be described as "confusion". She knew he had grown up in the timeline leading to this, but when she'd asked about it, he had shrugged and told her he couldn't remember how he'd gotten here. Demonstrating the same strength he had shown in her glimpses of time when he had been a man, though, quickly washed away all her doubts.

His job was to assist her in her task from this place, operating a terminal situated in the center of a vast chamber with a vaulted ceiling. In fact, when she looked up, she got a little dizzy, because she wasn't sure that actually was the ceiling.

He worked feverishly at this terminal, constantly scanning a holographic map of the area and dropping pins on points of interest for her to investigate. "But not too many," he said at one point, "because you really should focus on the task at hand, not all the interesting things to look at."

"Try to keep me busy," had been her response.

He, too, had been stripped of his emotional core, but still managed to work up a little smile as he complied, finding more points of interest on the map, which were then transmitted to her handset's map. Finally, after quite a bit of work at the terminal, he stepped back, a flicker of pride crossing his features.

"There. What do you think?"

She examined the map. "Very colorful."

The map showed the four continents splayed out in splashes of gray on black. Dots colored green, blue, and red glowed steadily in certain areas. Some of them were clustered, while others were strung out seemingly at random. At certain points, question marks hovered beside the dots, but for the moment, she didn't ask about them.

"I've managed to locate a few more people so far."

"And who would they be?"

Hope made a thoughtful sound. "Snow is still in Yusnaan."

Her eyes fell to the blue dot on the lower-left continent. Her old comrade's name hovered beside it. "Snow Villiers, the 'great hero' of the l'Cie," she murmured. The man had found himself in what Hope called the "city of revelry" – a place of eternal celebration as the inhabitants awaited the world's end. There, her new master had just enough influence that they considered the apocalypse a blessing, as in Luxerion. Unlike the latter, though, they refused to be very solemn about the event. "Has he left his palace at all?"

"From what I've heard, he hasn't left in centuries."

She wondered just how heavily the burdens of chaos weighed on his heart. Were they as fierce as she had heard they could become? Over time, she had been told, the burdens had accumulated in people's hearts, the years adding layer upon layer until their true selves were buried. The long life that came with time being broken meant that a person's normal accumulation of burdens had increased exponentially.

If she had to help Snow, then he had not escaped the chaos. The once eternally-optimistic man was now one of those she was required – no, compelled by duty – to save.

How heavy had his heart become?

"I'll go after him again when the time is right," she said. "Any others?"

Hope ran the back of his hand across his chin. "Well, I may have found Sazh, but I'm not sure. There's also a strong presence of chaos in the temple ruins. From the energy waves bleeding off into the surrounding area, it appears to be the place where the chaos is flowing from."

Lightning gazed at the dot indicating the location of the temple – the ruins of an ancient metropolis the Angel of Valhalla had been predestined to lead her to. A great destiny waited there, and the memory of the whispering voice following her throughout the vast untamed wilderness still lingered. Someone wanted her to go there, into the thick of the chaos, fulfilling some wish of the voice's heart, and she could not ignore it. It had led her to the chocobo, led her to care for it, led her through confrontations and wilderness and darkness, ever closer to–

"The voice in the wilderness," she murmured. Her eyes, of their own accord, fixed on the dot of color. "It… told me to go… there. As soon as I could."

Hope hummed softly. "Into the font of the chaos. It could be very dangerous. You'll need to be careful, but I know you will be. Who knows, you may even be able to confront the erosion of the world and slow it. Perhaps, by some miracle, you can even stop it altogether, even if you cannot do it permanently."

Lightning lifted an eyebrow. "Delay the end of the world?" She considered the possibility of achieving such a miracle. How many more people she could rescue from the chaos, if only she could stall its growth long enough to do so… "It's worth a try. Only a day has gone by so far. It won't be a waste of time.

"Good. I'll send you back to your chocobo once you're ready."

The woman gazed at the display, one hand resting on her thigh. "I'll have to search every corner of the world," she murmured. "Will I have enough time to save everyone?"

"It is not possible, Light."

She looked carefully at him, tilting her head slightly. "Isn't it?"

Hope shook his head, but didn't seem all that concerned. "You only have so much time, and there are many people left in the world. You can't save them all, despite the power Bhunivelze has given you." He gazed at her with soft eyes, reassuring her. "For each moment you spend on a more difficult task for a particularly dark heart, you may lose ten people with far lighter burdens. You must choose carefully." For a moment, something flashed through his eyes, but didn't last long enough for her to determine what it was. "The darkest hearts may have to be turned away for the sake of those who still have light within. I trust your judgment."

She nodded. This man – boy, as he had become once again – was always ready to believe in her. Sure, he worried about her, and watched her every move, but there was no one she would rather have watching her back, and if given the choice to walk alone or with him as her sole companion, well, she didn't have to wonder. "Add the ruins to my list of places to visit tomorrow," she murmured. "I have been told to go, and so, I shall go."

"What do you think is out there?"

She shifted her weight, staring at the dot. The ruins happened to be of the temple of Etro, which had once resided in Valhalla, the land where she had lost so much of her life to endless war. That land had been full of chaos, and that temple had been the seat of the overseer of chaos. No doubt it was strongly connected to the mysterious entity as a result. The only other entity she could think of so strongly connected to the chaos was the warrior, Caius Ballad, who had perished at the hand of Noel Kreiss on the temple's shores long ago.

"There are many guesses in my mind," she admitted, "but I will speak none of them until I have seen what's there."

"What if… what if there's something terrible out there?"

Lightning looked at him. "Such as?"

"Well, the chaos behaves like it's–" He shifted his weight. "–alive."

"Guess I'd better take care of it then." Now she flashed a quick smirk, but again, it felt hollow. Somewhere deep inside, some forgotten part of her clawed at her mind, but it was almost as though the part of her brain responsible for emotion had been removed. Only cold and simple logic remained, along with faint echoes of emotion, enough to get her riled, but not much else. That was fine. She did her best work when everything could be laid out logically. "I'll investigate. Meanwhile, try to find any others we might have known. I want to save as many as I can." She hesitated. "I can't save those who don't wish to be. Right?"

Hope nodded. "That would be correct. Bhunivelze put those restrictions on your power for a reason, I'm sure. It may be best not to question it."

"Or he just wants me to do what he wants so I get what I want." She sighed. "It seems no matter which way I turn, I end up as a slave to another's chosen fate."

Hope's green eyes narrowed slightly. "You aren't a slave to 'fate', Light," he said. "We got here fighting a fate laid out by false gods, after all. We're going to pave our own path in the new world. When that day comes – and it will – you'll see what I mean." One hand became a fist, which he raised to his chest. "We'll build our own future, Light. Don't get tangled up in the idea of 'fate' now, because it'll be over soon."

Lightning swallowed back the words she had nearly spoken – words intended to set him straight, but now, hearing him speak like the leader he had been in Academia, she didn't feel like it anymore. Little though he had become, his will, his determination, it seemed, had not dimmed in equal measure.

"You'll continue to return here at midnight." Hope turned back to his station, all business again. "I'm not giving you a choice, Light, and I can't. You'll need your rest. You're not superhuman."

"Oh, aren't I, Mister Estheim?"

He didn't look at her when he said, "It's Hope." Pause. "You have superpowers, but I still would never say you're superhuman. You're our last hope. You have to succeed." He looked over his shoulder at her. "You can't falter, and you can't give up. And you can't die. If you do any of those things, it's over."

"Don't worry. I won't forget."

"Then…" His eyes softened again. "Please. Be careful, Light."

Lightning hesitated and looked carefully at him. "I will." Her eyes drifted to a slender tree sitting a short distance from the terminal. It had a few tendrils growing from it alongside a few leaves, but it looked thin and weak. "That tree needs to grow strong so that it can birth the new world."

The boy tilted his head. "It will be good to see."

Her expression didn't change when she said, "After all of this, it really will be."

The second of the last thirteen days began when she walked away from the terminal and the boy, allowing Hope to send her to the land below. It was simple: save the people of the old world, and go on to a new one. It was important, but still very simple. If someone could not or did not want to be saved, she would move on. Clean and simple.

But she understood the full depth of what she had been asked to do.

Her dear sister's fate hung in the balance: if she did her task well, her reward was Serah's life, able to go on and live in the new world. It was best, then, that she went through these next twelve days without her emotions. They would impede her, and turn her from the woman she had become into a doubting child, something she just couldn't afford to be. Too much had been lost. No, from here on out, she had to be the soldier with a heart of steel. She had to keep her head up, eyes forward, shoulders back, never doubting.

When the new world came, everything would finally be alright, and the dreams and wishes of those who had been present for Cocoon's first fall would finally come true. There would be peace. This world would be gone, but it was a small price to pay to see all the pain and suffering come to an end.

Snow and Serah would be reunited. Since she had so foolishly refused to give her blessing when the time had been best, blinded by her lack of knowledge about a passionate but adoring man, this would be her next atonement – by saving the world, and uniting the two lovers again.

She stepped into the teleporter, and the Ark dissolved into starlit nighttime around her.

Lightning is a soldier, tasked with defeating the darkness with the power of the light. There are no doubts in her mind, no inkling that anything would ever sway her from her path. No matter what she encounters, she will never move from where she stands, never let her sights move from where they sat now, never sway from her ultimate goal of reuniting with her beloved sister, whom she had sent to her death, as she has already accepted.

Nothing will stop her, and no one can change her mind.

In the fountainhead of chaos, something is stirring, while above it a figure cloaked in darkness and lost in thought awaits the day when he no longer has to gaze at the world he brought into being. Maybe then, he can finally pretend to have some peace. He can never die, of course. No, his fate will be worse than death, but he has accepted it. The Liberator will come for him, will try to help him – this, he knows, beyond all doubt – but he also knows that she has failed long before she has even begun.

All around, shadowy echoes cry for and plead with him.

In the midst of it, all he can do is what he has done for five long centuries: wait, patiently, for the day when it finally ends. Now, he adds another task to that one: how to explain to the woman that she can't save him, shouldn't try, and that he cannot be unbound from the world's fate by any mere mortal hand, not even hers.

It stings, it hurts, it makes him angry, but he has accepted it.

But she will still come for him, and the hands of destiny have begun to tick forward once more.

And so begins the multichapter LR story I have been planning since the game was announced back in 2013. Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoy the ride!