Author's Note:Warning: Canon character death and mildish depictions of violence. I guess you could say there's angst in there too. I would be shocked if anyone didn't know what was coming up, so you can pretty much guarantee there's going to be angst for the next couple of chapters at least.

Regis raised his eyes to the middle distance, and the sight of Lunafreya and Nyx standing protected by his final spell blurred and dripped away as ink splashed with water. He did so regret leaving them behind in a city so completely under siege, but he had little choice in the matter. The forces the Empire had gathered for their attack had been even greater than Regis had expected, and he wondered if it would have been safer for his people if he had simply surrendered as soon as Noctis was safely lost in the Lucian wilderness. But no, it had been vital that absolutely no one, save only his most trusted operative and his Shield, knew that he had already known of Niflheim's plan.

The pain and seeping cold radiated from the points where the sword had pierced his back and chest, and he closed his eyes for what he knew was the last time in an attempt to block out the sensations. He was surprised to find that, instead of the blackness he usually saw behind his eyelids, she was standing in front of him, the blue, green, and purple aurora if the Crystal space waving lazily behind her. It was almost a peaceful sight, but this couldn't be death yet. He could still feel his body back in the Citadel, could still smell the acrid smoke, feel the vibrations of his home as it attempted to withstand the barrage of the Empire's might.

"You're here. How?" She opened her mind to speak to him, but he shook his head. "Never mind. It doesn't matter anymore. It's time."

"I know," she said. "That's why I'm here. I've been waiting, monitoring the connection with the Crystal so I would know the moment this happened. I'll not let you go through this alone, Regis. I'm going to stay with you."

"Will it not hurt?" he asked.

Searching her mind had hurt the both of them more than he could have ever imagined that day, even though both parties were willing participants, and the thought of having a connection like this as one of them died sent a shudder through him. But what did he know? He was no telepath. He wondered why her mind wasn't setting him on fire this very moment. Perhaps the sword in his back was distracting him from her wrongness.

"Yes, it will hurt," she said. "But it's the least I can do—for all you've done."

He was touched by her recognition of his efforts; she would likely be the only one in the world to ever do so, but even after having searched her mind for her motivations, he still couldn't understand why she was doing this—why she was here when none of this had anything to do with her. But he couldn't deny how useful her skill and her heart would be in her mission, traits that had eased his mind greatly the moment he'd seen them shining in her head. If anyone could protect his wayward boy as he grew into all he needed to become without interfering too much, it would be her. She, after all, had been through much the same ordeal.

"Are you with my son? Is he safe?" He had wanted to seek out reports on them, but there had been too much to do to save as many of his citizens as he could that he found he couldn't check his sources at all in the last thirteen days since they'd left.

He could still hear the faraway explosions in the ears of his body, wherever it was, and he prayed to the gods that whoever was left of his people would someday understand why he'd done what he'd done.

"Yes, I'm with them, and they're all safe. Everything is going to be all right, Regis."

Too much of his life essence was seeping from his body, and he panicked, his mind grasping for hers, desperate to anchor himself to this world, to everything he'd ever known of existence, for just a moment longer. In response, she wrapped her mind around his like a blanket, holding him as though he were a child, and the pain and seeping cold from his mortal body washed away in the warm comfort of her consciousness. He couldn't remember the last time someone had comforted him like this, the last time he had allowed anyone to comfort him like this. But his duty was done, and he saw no reason for the need to hold fast and steady any longer.

Their astral bodies stood mere paces apart as she continued to embrace his mind, but after a moment, he could also feel the Lucii shimmer into his perception, hovering just on the edge of his diminishing consciousness. The searing cold steel of their armored claws pulled at him, attempting to pull him away from her, but she held him fast.

"Will you just wait?" she snapped at them. "You're about to have him for eternity. I think you can manage a couple of minutes for all he's done for you. Don't think I won't fight you for those minutes, either, because I will."

A flash of amusement struck in his mind, even over his own desolation, at the sight of her scolding an entire line of immortal kings on his behalf. This reason, right here, was why he had chosen to send her with his son. She was the only woman in existence with the power to defend him not only from the darkness he would face, but also from being taken advantage of by their own allies.

She turned back to him then, her lapis eyes wet with sorrow and pity. He began to close his eyes, shutting her pity out, but she reached for his hand, entreating him to look at her.

"I couldn't even tell him, in the end," he said shaking his head. "I couldn't find the words; Astrals know I tried."

"I promise; one of these days, he'll understand."

A sudden desire blossomed in his mind, that his son could understand this very moment, that all the years of hiding his own pain and suffering from the boy that he might be spared the glimpse into his own future could be explained and forgiven. He should have told him everything that day—and how much he loved him, but then how could he be expected to leave that city and do his duty? Regis was concerned for the boy's resolve enough as it was, and he himself could barely manage the pain of the foreknowledge—had always resented the way it had turned their relationship cold. There had been days when his resolve had grown weak, and he questioned his ability to be the distant, calculating father he had become so that his son would do what needed to be done. But duty had always spurred him to do whatever was necessary, and this had been so very necessary.

"I should have told him when I had the chance. Please, as a final request, will you tell him for me? Tell him everything, including who you are. This comes not as a King's orders, but a father's dearest wish."

Asking this of her was no small request, he knew. Her identity along with her foreknowledge of tonight's events could possibly be enough to shatter his son's fragile trust in her. But even if she was likely not to phrase it in such a manner, he wanted his son to know that he had left him with everything he could—with the gift of her protection. They were just more words he regretted not saying before they had left that day.

She nodded. "Yes, I will tell him—your feelings and my identity. I just hope they can find it in their hearts to forgive me."

"They're good boys; I believe they will, in time."

"I believe Ignis already has his suspicions," she said with a soft smile.

"I warned you about him," he replied. He was surprised that the boy hadn't confronted her already on the matter.

Her expression turned serious as she said, "Is there anything else I can do for you?"

"No. The only thing I wish of you now is to continue to watch over him, protect them all," he said as he closed his eyes. It was at this point he realized that the pain from his mortal wound hadn't just disappeared, he could no longer feel his body at all, could no longer smell or taste the iron tang of blood, no longer hear the crashing of stone and the screams of his most devoted subjects that had remained to fight for their homes. His body had passed, and his consciousness was now drifting somewhere between the Crystal and her own mind. Had any other man in existence experienced such a phenomenon? The peace he felt made death seem like a much more bearable ordeal to manage—a comforting embrace indeed, in contrast to how long he had feared this moment.

As the nights in Lucis had grown longer and he knew his time was approaching, he would often lie awake in bed, alone for once, and allowed to be paralyzed with fear at the prospect of dying. Would it be slow and painful? Would he have enough time to settle his affairs? He wouldn't even be offered the comfort of following his dear Aulea into the afterlife, for his essence had to be dragged into the Crystal to become a Lucii, waiting for the day that he would have to perform his final, most despicable duty.

He would beg the Astrals for forgiveness in those moments for binding the lives of three young men—children really—so very young and full of promise, to his son's fate. He would plead to the gods for mercy on behalf of his people, knowing that no matter what plans he made, countless lives would be lost. They would never understand, his people, and the names of the good men and women who died serving him would forever be sullied for the sacrifices they had made to save the world.

Regis would be able to endure all these sins if the mission succeeded, but failure was the greatest fear that had permeated those final waking moments before sleep, ever since the Crystal had shown him the vision of Noctis setting out on his own. At the very least, that last fear had very suddenly dissipated in an armchair in his study the day he met her, easing the other doubts that plagued him, even if only marginally.

"You have my most solemn word, Regis. I will protect him with my life," she said, but then her voice grew soft, "until the very end; I will protect all of them." Her eyes drifted up to the Lucii hovering over them in the rippling aurora. "I cannot keep you here much longer. Come with me," she said, holding out a hand to him. "There's one last thing I can do for you, for the both of you."

He didn't truly understand what she was asking of him; he was only just barely aware of his astral body in this place. But he took her hand and closed his eyes, feeling their consciousnesses drift over the burning destruction of his most beloved city, the only home he'd ever known; across the desert; and down to the deceptively peaceful shores of Galdin. Memories of his own journey to this place thirty years ago assaulted him in that moment, but he pushed them aside as she guided him into a room of the very hotel he had once stayed in. She brought him to one of the beds, where she, Prompto, and his own dearest son lay, so innocent and so very vulnerable.

"So it worked, then? The Regalia broke down before you could make it to the ferry?" That strategy had been the keystone to his entire plan—ensuring that the car would run long enough to get them out of the city before failing them, hopefully near Hammerhead so they could connect with Cid. He'd given them no funds and no way to reach them on the other side of the Wall so that they'd be forced to eke a living lost in the Lucian wilderness away from the Empire's gaze, and perhaps grow up a little in the process.

"Yes, your scheme worked perfectly, though I wish you had told me beforehand. I did wonder why a royal vehicle was so poorly maintained until things started panning out. Of course, Ignis almost derailed everything by bringing gil along, but Cid pulled through for you," she said fondly as she looked over at Ignis asleep on the other bed. "Took him forever to fix that car, and he charged us a fortune."

His gaze followed hers, and his heart clenched that he wouldn't have the time to say goodbye to Ignis, who had who had taken care of his boy so completely and with so much love when he himself couldn't. The boy had become a second son to him as he watched them grow up together, and it was the source of yet more regret that he'd never breathed a word to the young man about it.

"Dear Ignis, my boy . . .."

"I'll find a way to let him know as well," she said softly, her eyes large and solemn. "But you must hurry. I cannot keep you together much longer."

Regis looked back down, his eyes lingering on his son's sleeping face for the last time—at least for a long while. "I shall be with you, always," he whispered, brushing his fingertips against the boy's forehead before leaning in to do the same with his lips. Astrals, he wished he'd had more time.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, but it's time. Rest now, Regis. We'll take it from here." As he stood to face her, she placed a gentle hand on his cheek and brought his forehead down to her lips briefly.

The pull of the Lucii became too strong in that moment, and he held his eyes steady on his son's face as he disentangled himself from the embrace of her mind so as not to cause her more pain than he had already. Immediately, the hotel room melted around them until they were standing once again in the aurora of the Crystal space.

"Thank you," he called out to her as he closed his eyes and mind one last time, finally allowing his ancestors to pull him forward.