A/N: Two. Months. I'm so sorry for this super late update, guys D: I hope you guys haven't forgotten the storyline, cos this chap actually concludes a lot of things. Then again, I have to say that now I'm in the Junior College. It's a hellish place. The workload has increased tenfold, even more than the workload I endured back then during my O Level year. School starts early and ends late, all days of the week. Even during holidays n weekends, homework falls like rain. Plus, the new school environment is so different from secondary school, and I had trouble adjusting. I'm simply super busy now… I can't even tell when I'll be able to update. But yeah, regardless, I hope you guys still enjoy this chapter :) Took me quite long to perfect it, hrrr.


Lightning exhales painfully, letting her back rest against the rock again. The throbbing of her wounds has intensified by now, and she finds it difficult to even think clearly. By now, the sun has started to set; making everything hard to see, especially with her wounded eye. However, Fafnir's voice still speaks audibly in her mind.

"Come on... I'm not asking for your life, dear master. Blood is all I require... Just give me some, and I will lend you my power. You'll be able to kill that Barthandelus with one strike, I can assure you."

Let me get this straight. You're asking me to mangle myself and feed you with blood right?

A soft chuckle.

"Are you afraid, dear master? Do not be; I won't kill you. You're my only precious thirst-quencher... I will never take your life. Besides, you don't have much choice, am I right? Admit it; you have almost no more strength. Your body is all torn up, you can't even stand… If you do nothing, that Barthandelus would emerge soon and kill you. I don't want you to die, master…"

Yeah, right. Because if I die, you won't have anyone else whose blood you can guzzle.

Fafnir doesn't reply, but Lightning can sense smugness in his silence.

Damn this…

"Well, master? You don't have much time, you know that. Honestly, I think you're dying."

Lightning bares her teeth angrily.

Like I need anyone to tell me that.

"All the more reason for you to decide quickly, dear master. If not, I suspect you'd die from your wounds before that Barthandelus even emerges."

Lightning curses; her fury rising quickly at Fafnir. She despises this fal'Cie sword, she despises his bloodlust… this damned sword would stop at nothing to get what he wants. Even his polite words are laced with barely-concealed shrewdness. If only he isn't the sole sword capable of defeating Barthandelus, Lightning would've thrown him into the ravine without a second glance. But here he is, with an offer that is so tempting yet impossible to take.

I refuse, Lightning snarls back at Fafnir. If I mangle myself, I'll be incapacitated with pain. Even if you turn into your final form, what good does it do? Your final form is still a sword—I still have to wield you and stab Barthandelus myself. If I can't move, then it's no good to me.

At this, Fafnir falls quiet for a second. Despite his silence, Lightning can still sense his bloodlust burning intensely, undoubtedly driving him to do whatever it takes to be sated. True enough, a few seconds later the fal'Cie sword speaks up again.

"Fair enough. You're indeed a calculative master worthy of my power… Very well. If that's your concern, then once I turn into my final form I shall hold off your pain until you manage to stab that Barthandelus. How's that?"

This time, it's Lightning's turn to fall quiet. She knows that's the best deal she can get from this despicable sword… but she still hesitates. Because even if Fafnir holds off the pain from her wounds, it doesn't mean she'd definitely be able to defeat Barthandelus. There are simply too many risks and uncertainties here... What if Fafnir fails to kill Barthandelus, even in his final form? What if he suddenly stop holding off her pain? She'd be completely vulnerable to Barthandelus's counterattack. He did say that he wouldn't want her dead, but who knows what he'd do if things turn sour. He can easily decide to kill her off himself just so he can drink more blood.

Lightning groans, closing her eye when her wounds throb again excruciatingly. She's way past her limits… even the simplest movement hurts her. At her current state, can she survive another injury to offer to Fafnir? She doubts it.

This is hopeless.

Lightning scowls in desperation. No, she can't do this. Even though Fafnir's offer is her only true chance of defeating Barthandelus, but it demands too much from her. She can't do it, not now when she's all by herself.

Grimly, the soldier considers her options—which aren't many. And none ends well for her.

Firstly… if she decides to accept Fafnir's offer, she might die immediately from the loss of blood, without anyone nearby who can heal her. Even if she is somehow lucky to survive the wound and manages to stab Barthandelus with Fafnir's final form, there is still a chance that he won't die immediately. He can still aim an attack at her, and in her condition—in which Fafnir would no longer hold off her pain—she'd be unable to dodge. And there'd be no one to back her up.

But if she doesn't take the offer… Barthandelus will kill her once he emerges. And she can't even move to defend herself.

This is simply a battle she can't win.

At this thought, an ominously familiar feeling of helplessness overwhelms the soldier. It's exactly the same feeling jabbing her heart, back then in that night when the authorities passively announced her parents' death. It is the knowledge that she's alone against a mountain of adversity, the knowledge that sends paralyzing stabs of dread into her.

Slowly but surely, Lightning feels her consciousness fading. She struggles to remain awake, but she can no longer open her uninjured left eye. This is hopeless… it's simply impossible to win this battle in her current state. If she's in a GC mission now, the Lieutenant would've announced her as a casualty and ordered reinforcements to take over the mission. It would be a disgrace, but at least her life will be saved. Right now, it's a luxury she doesn't have.

Damn…

Lightning breathes heavily, her left eye half opening in her effort to stay conscious. However, her head has hung in exhaustion and all she can see is the red hue of the blood around her waist wound. Everything hurts…

She's so tired… so, so tired. She's been fighting for too long, she barely has any energy left now. She can't move anymore—even if she decides to take up Fafnir's offer, she still has no strength to lift the huge sword.

But if I do nothing… Barthandelus will…

Her life is not the only one on the line. Serah's and the others'… even Cocoon's.

Lightning grits her teeth, struggling to lift Fafnir up—but not even a twitch she can muster. Although she keeps forcing herself to move, her body no longer obeys her. Probably it's her survival instinct kicking in; her logic has concluded that there's nothing ahead but death, so it naturally tries to prevent any unnecessary pain. Her subconscious simply wouldn't let her endure more pain by moving.

Damn this… if I do nothing, Barthandelus will hurt Serah and the others… he'll kill them for sure…

She's sworn to protect those she cares about… but now, her wounds are simply getting the better of her.

Now even this last thought is fading…

Lightning's head drops as she closes her eye tiredly.


"LIGHTNING FARRON!"

Lightning's consciousness returns with a jolt upon hearing that familiar voice; but her eyes remain closed in exhaustion. She's confused; her pain-fogged mind barely recognizes that voice…

Yet she's sure that the voice belongs to someone important to her. Although it was shouting so fiercely, but she doesn't feel threatened at all… quite the contrary, the mere sound of it actually somehow makes her feel… stronger?

And that's when Lightning recognizes it. In this kind of situation, when she's cornered with a powerful enemy threatening to emerge soon… there's only one person whose voice can make her feel that way.

Fang…?

That's it… it was her battle partner's voice. How does—

That's when Lightning notices the slight vibration in her leg pouch. It's starting to hurt her waist wound, so she flips it open with a struggle. After fumbling for a while, she finally pulls out… her comm device.

Lightning holds the device in her hand loosely, faintly noticing that it is still in one piece. What luck; even after all her fighting, the device hasn't been destroyed. Fang's voice must have come from it…

But now all she can hear is static. Probably the gizmo is busted, after all... at this thought, Lightning's hand drops limply, the comm device rolling to the ground.

However, suddenly Fang's strong voice becomes audible again.

"Lightning, dammit, answer! Bzzt… Can you hear me? Answer me! The connection can go down anytime…bzzzt…"

Although Lightning hears the words, her mind is taking a longer time to process them. Forget answering; she can't even reach over to pick up the device. Despite all this, she struggles to comprehend Fang's words.

"Lightning, whatever you do, don't give up!" Fang hollers again, her voice slightly altered by all the static. Bzzzt… "The others are delayed by some annoying… bzzzt…. but… bzzzt…fine! Vanille and I… are coming for you!"

In her wavering consciousness, Lightning can only process a few words. The others… are fine… and Fang and Vanille are…

Coming… here?

"So don't you dare give up! You hear me?! WE ARE COMING!"

Right then a furious static takes over, covering Fang's voice. However, the things she said have alerted Lightning, causing a small surge of energy to flow in the soldier's limp body.

"No… don't come…" Lightning struggles to reply, but her voice is so hoarse that it is barely audible. She tries again, only to cough violently which hurts her wounds even more. Grimacing, the soldier opens her eye to stare at the comm device almost in panic.

If Fang and Vanille come here… Barthandelus will…

…Undoubtedly, Barthandelus is still strong enough to fight any l'Cie. He'll detect Fang and Vanille's arrival easily; and the rest isn't too hard to imagine. The massive fal'Cie would burst out of the ravines, claws out, attacking Fang and Vanille by surprise before they can even hear her warning. And she wouldn't be able to help them…

Lightning summons all the strength she has left, channeling it into speaking. She has to warn them—they can't come here, Barthandelus will kill them—

"Don't come—"

However, that's when the relentless static suddenly grows softer. Above its disturbance, Vanille's voice rings clearly.

"Lightning, I don't know if you can hear me—but please, whatever happens, don't give up! We'll do the same, Light, don't worry—whatever happens, we'll come for you!"

Lightning blinks upon hearing this. Her words died at her throat, she couldn't utter anything else to warn her friends not to come. But even if she could… it'd be useless. Vanille's words have confirmed what she should've known about the redhead and Fang: no matter what happens, no matter how much warning she gives them, they'd still come for her. They're… well, stubborn.

The static returns with a vengeance—it covers Vanille's voice, but she manages to deliver a last line.

"Please, Light… bzzzt…just remember, you're not alone…! Bzzzt… Fang and I will come for you! We'll find you soon, so hang in there…bzzzt…You are notalone…"

Right then the static takes over again and Vanille's voice fades away. No more voice comes from the comm device, but those words still linger clearly in the soldier's mind.

Not alone…

Lightning twitches. For some reason, those simple words… and those familiar voices… are making her feel much, much better. It's a nice feeling… to know that she's not alone, that there are others out there to—well, she's never thought she would use these words—count on.

Right… this is a battle she can't win alone. Unfortunately for Barthandelus, she is not. Fang, Vanille, Serah and the others—they are still out there. They'll come and aid her soon… with their help, she can still win this battle…

However, this slight relief quickly turns into worry.

Because there is still a chance that Barthandelus would harm her friends when they arrive. In fact, the chance is high. Barthandelus is doubtlessly furious—the moment any backup comes for her, he would definitely attack them. And if Fang and Vanille are caught by surprise, they would…

A bitter smirk tugs at Lightning's lips. She'd never let the people who come to help her get killed, no matter what. And since telling them not to come is out of the option, then… there's only one solution to prevent Barthandelus from killing them.

She'd just have to do all she can in the time being to weaken the fal'Cie.

Yeah, right; she'd have to stand tall and fight him one more round. She'd just have to give it all she's got left, anything at all to weaken and prevent him from hurting Fang and Vanille. All she's got left… including Fafnir's final form.

This thought of having to endure even more pain makes her wounded body throb in protest, but Lightning steels herself. There's nothing to lose—even if she can't defeat Barthandelus, or falls because of Fafnir, at least she would've done all she could. She just has to do all she can… and trust her friends to take care of the rest. Because finally, she has people she can count on.

This is the one advantage I have that Barthandelus doesn't. Backup.

Nodding slightly to herself, Lightning makes her decision. It's unpleasant, but… there's nothing else to do besides doing it. They all have a part to play in this battle—right now, she just has to do her final one.

So without giving herself a chance to back down, Lightning grabs Fafnir and forces herself into a crouching position. Her wounds flare, but she simply winces and ignores it knowing more will come. In her hand, Fafnir's flames blaze eagerly within the confines of his blade. Right now, when the setting sun covers everything in red hues, his blade looks like it's already covered in blood.

"I see you've made up your mind, dear master. I'm glad."

Lightning ignores the shrewd words, concentrating on observing the long wound across her midsection. Thanks to Vanille's Regen, it hasn't fully opened even after all her fighting. If she could survive with it fully opened before, then a little bit more of bleeding shouldn't kill her… she hopes.

Right then, Lightning feels the ground tremble. A distant, furious roar follows it—Barthandelus is definitely finding his way back up already. He can arrive any time now… she has to hurry.

Taking in a trembling breath, Lightning presses Fafnir's sharp edge against her wound. No pain yet—the dried blood is blocking the sword. Within its blade, Fafnir's flames pulsate even more eagerly, awaiting its feast.

Lightning breathes out, struggling to calm her brain that has been screaming about how stupid and suicidal her decision is. It's true; this is really a foolhardy bet she's taking. Whatever the outcome is later, Fafnir would be the one getting the most advantage. But despite that… Lightning would still take this stupid bet. Because it is the only way she can protect those she cares about.

Just focus on your goal, and shut out everything else.

Right. Her own advice in doing something daunting.

Clenching her jaws, Lightning forces her hand downwards—driving Fafnir's blade into her wound.

"Ahk…!"

The sharp blade tears her flesh easily—pain immediately explodes in her stomach, drawing a sharp cry from the soldier. Lightning's mind blurs dangerously beneath all the agony, she barely remembers to keep breathing. Every breath hurts—every time she inhales, her flesh grits excruciatingly against Fafnir's blade.

Faintly, Lightning realizes that her torso is falling forward. She quickly lashes her left arm out to support her body, an action that hurts her injured shoulder. But compared to the pain in her midsection, it was nothing. As she grimaces in pain, Lightning forces her left eye open to see Fafnir.

The blade is blazing—it is half-buried in her flesh, yet it seems to be guzzling all the blood. Not a single drop of the crimson liquid flows out from her wound, as every drop seems to be absorbed straight into Fafnir. The flames in the blade are flaring brighter and brighter by each second, their color darkening into blood red. Lightning can see them clearly, even now when the sun has fully set and everything is covered in the bluish shadows of night.

Lightning grits her teeth, struggling not to faint. If she blacks out now, Fafnir can happily drain her blood to death—and she'd die uselessly. Barthandelus would be happy to see her lying dead here, looking like she just did a half-hearted harakiri.

A pained moan escapes Lightning's lips; how long is this going to last…? She thought Fafnir's going to hold off her pain!

…After he reaches his final form, yeah. He sure as hell didn't bother to specify how much blood he needs.

Damned fal'Cie sword…

After several torturing seconds that feel like hours to Lightning, finally Fafnir's flames stop coiling. They burn bright crimson now, and the dragon-like eye at its center has turned completely black. Softly, his voice echoes in her mind.

"That should be sufficient... for now."

That's all Lightning needs to hear—this pain can't possibly get any worse. Grunting, she pulls Fafnir out of her wound, causing blood to immediately flow out. Vanille's Regen is still active; it is struggling to stop her bleeding with little result. Lightning glances at the wound in desperation, the relentless waves of pain causing her body to tremble heavily…

…When out of a sudden, all the pain disappears. Lightning's eyes snap open in surprise—even her slashed right eye. Frowning, the soldier touches it gingerly. The slash wound is still there, but at least the pain isn't. She can see with that eye again… Barthandelus's claw must have injured only her eyelid. A quick glance to her torso presents her with the sight of her bleeding wound, but at least Vanille's Regen is still working on it. After all, she feels no pain there—just like her eye and shoulder.

Slowly, Lightning gets back to her feet. However, she realizes in dismay that her body is still weak.

Right… Fafnir merely holds off the pain. But that doesn't change the fact that her body is wounded, badly. With the wounds she's suffered, it is of little wonder that her legs still tremble and her body feels exhausted all over.

Yet Lightning doesn't have time to do anything else, for Barthandelus emerges from the ravine exactly at that moment.

"I'LL KILL YOU PAINFULLY FOR THAT, FARRON! YOU AND THE ENTIRE COCOON!"

That furious roar echoes from the dark ravines, drawing Lightning's attention right to the fal'Cie as his enormous form emerges. Even in the dim night, she can immediately notice the large cracks on his armor-like body from her earlier Wrath of Heavens.

That's it; she can worry about her wounds later. Right now, she needs to concentrate on fighting Barthandelus. He's just as wounded as she is; they are fighting on level ground now. Resolutely, the soldier lifts Fafnir up—

—And that's when the ancient fal'Cie sword flares with its full power, bursting into white flames that envelope its crimson blade. Lightning stares at it in amazement, watching as the white-hot flames lick the sharp edges. What Fafnir claimed is true after all; his real power was still encased in the sword. Right now when it's finally unleashed, she can feel his massive power radiating from the bright flames.

And Barthandelus notices it too.

The fal'Cie's dark eyes widen as he stares at the sword in Lightning's grip.

"Fafnir… so finally you've awaken," he growls softly. Hesitantly, his cold eyes flick to the horizon—and that's when Lightning notices it too. Somehow, the dark night has brightened up. Everything is bathed in the pre-dawn greyish light now, instead of the dark blue shadows of evening. Glancing at the horizon as well, Lightning frowns when she sees the first hints of the sun illuminating it.

Barthandelus softly growls again. "His strength hasn't waned, even after all those eons… it is even attracting the sun."

Lightning's gaze flicks back to Barthandelus. She gets it now; Fafnir's power is so great that it turns night to day. His control of fire is formidable—even the sun appears at his beckon. But as Barthandelus said… it's impossible for such a great power not to demand something in return. Grimly, the soldier glances at her waist; it's still bleeding yet with no pain at all. Still, if she prolongs this her body would eventually give away—pain or no pain.

Meanwhile, Barthandelus has noticed Lightning's wound as well. He knows what that means; his eyes flare as he grimaces angrily.

"You… you sacrificed your OWN flesh for Fafnir?!" he bellows. "Don't you fear the consequences, foolish l'Cie? That wound shall kill you once Fafnir stops protecting you! Even if you kill me, you shall perish as well!" That last line comes out as a full-blown roar, so powerful that gusts of wind appear around the fal'Cie.

Despite this menacing show of power, Lightning keeps her eyes locked to her nemesis.

"I told you, didn't I? I won't let myself die here," she replies coldly.

Barthandelus scoffs. "That's impossible! You're taking a very dangerous bet, Lightning Farron. A bet you have no chance of winning! Even if you kill me, you'll die too. There's nobody else here to help you—you're completely alone! Just as how you've lived your miserable life ever since you were young!"

Those words hit a nerve. Right… she was indeed alone, ever since her parents passed away. She was indeed alone, through those long years of hardship as she struggled to give Serah a decent life. There was no one there to guide her, no one to even care whether she could survive. She was alone.

Lightning's expression doesn't change, but her eyes blaze angrily. No, she can't lose her temper; it's the worst thing she can do in this kind of battle. Breathing deeply, the soldier struggles to calm herself down.

No matter how it was in my past, right now things are different.

With this thought, Lightning looks up to meet Barthandelus's murderous gaze.

"Not anymore."

Upon hearing this reply, Barthandelus falls quiet. He considers the l'Cie standing defiantly before him, staring at her with hatred.

Arrogant lowlife.

He's had enough of her arrogance; he's had enough of fighting her over and over again. This time, he'll end her up for good.

Roaring, Barthandelus charges forward. He doesn't care even if Fafnir is in his final form; right now, even his yearning to summon back the Makers has almost been forgotten. He's blinded by rage; he cares of nothing else except sending Lightning Farron to her demise. He has to kill her—she's been defying him far too many times to be allowed to live a second longer! Even if he should die, she's coming with him!

And upon seeing the fal'Cie charging forward, Lightning raises the fire sword in her hand and steels herself. True that her chance of surviving is small… but Vanille's voice still lingers in her mind.

"…You're not alone."

"We're coming for you," Fang's voice echoes as well, the stubborn determination in her voice sending some kind of tranquility to Lightning. They've got her back now—the best battle partners she'd ever have.

"Please come back alive… sis."

And yeah—she's got people worth living for.


A furious, rapid and direct approach of a known killer is something that would trigger immediate fear in anyone, even a trained soldier. Lightning feels it too; the moment she sees Barthandelus's massive form charging at her, all focused on offense and ignoring his own defense altogether, she knows that he's set on killing her. Fear rises in her heart; but she forces herself to swallow it. Right now, she won't let it take over. No matter how great the fear is, she has to stand tall and face it—like how she's going to face Barthandelus now.

After all, his all-out offense has proven something to her: his desperation. He is clearly wounded and exhausted, yet he refuses to back down. Probably it is fury that fuels him—right now, he's channeling all that rage into his limbs, eager to tear her to shreds. He has indeed become insanely powerful with such rage—but for a soldier of Lightning's caliber, she knows that this means Barthandelus possesses no defense. If she can parry his attack, there'll be nothing there to stop her from counterattacking him.

This is it. All their repeated battles and conflicts have boiled down to this moment. One of them would survive—while the other fades away.

Resolutely, Lightning dashes forward to greet Barthandelus's charge. A familiar yet foreign feeling sweeps through her… something she's always felt near the end of a life-threatening battle.

It is the knowledge that every simplest move she makes would decide life or death. Every small decision, every reflex, every movement would count. There will be no mistake from her actions; only effects. Those effects would either push her towards death, or push her towards victory. This knowledge sends energy all over Lightning, exhausted and wounded as she is. Suddenly she sees everything a lot clearer, her reflexes get sharper, and she moves a lot faster. Her heart pounds in her chest; either a defiant declaration of her will to live, or a mere requiem before it stops beating completely. Whichever way it is, it pumps energy into her limbs.

Barthandelus bellows; with great speed, his fist lurches towards Lightning. The soldier has seen the attack coming—without hesitation, she jumps onto the fal'Cie's outstretched arm and runs along it towards his head. She raises Fafnir, ready to slash at Barthandelus's neck…

When the fal'Cie roars furiously and throws himself backwards. Lightning curses; she attempts to somersault away, but her feet lose grip on Barthandelus's shoulder. Before she can do anything else, her body has slammed hard to the ground, forcing all air out of her lungs.

"YOU'RE DEAD!"

Barthandelus opens his fist, extending his claws—with terrifying speed, he slams it towards Lightning's body on the ground.

CLANG!

In the last second, Lightning manages to lift Fafnir up to block barthandelus's claws. Those talons are merely inches away from her face, Fafnir's blazing blade the only thing separating them. Lightning grits her teeth under the exertion—her hands tremble heavily under the weight of Barthandelus's claws, but she stubbornly refuse to relent. Meanwhile, Barthandelus is baring his fangs in pain as well—Fafnir's flames are burning his hand. A long, red-hot gash has formed across it where Fafnir comes into contact.

For a few painful seconds, neither of them manages to shove the other away. But finally, Lightning manages to get her feet under Barthandelus's claws. She presses them against his palm firmly—before giving a powerful shove along with her arms.

Lightning's sudden burst of power catches Barthandelus off guard. He was too distracted by Fafnir's burning pain, and hence the soldier manages to shove him away. Without wasting a second longer, Lightning leaps back to her feet, only to notice the burn wounds on her own hand. She still feels no pain from them, but her heart lurches. It seems Fafnir would still consume her flesh every time she wounds Barthandelus.

But that doesn't change anything. She still has to end this battle.

Quickly, Lightning slashes Fafnir downwards at Barthandelus's arm. He roars angrily; with his speed, the fal'Cie manages to dodge Fafnir's sharp blade. However, the flames enveloping it still find their target. A tongue of flame engulfs Barthandelus's wrist, extending all the way to the ground—and that's when Lightning unleashes her Stop spell.

"What—DAMN YOU!"

Barthandelus roars in fury—Lightning's Stop spell has taken effect, turning Fafnir's flame into a fiery chain that binds his wrist to the ground painfully. Quick as flash, Lightning does the same to his other wrist.

Barthandelus can't move now.

Bellowing, the fal'Cie attacks using the only spell he can muster. He opens his jaws, a massive Ruinga forming within it—

Lightning's blue eyes widen in alarm at this sight. Without wasting any moment, she quickly dashes backwards right when the spell shoots out of Barthandelus's maws.

BOOM!

A massive explosion shakes the land, smoke billowing thickly from the crater formed by its destructive impact.


Barthandelus growls in pain—despite that last Ruinga, the fire shackles around his wrists still bind him to the ground. Worse still, he knows Lightning Farron is still alive—somewhere behind all this smoke. Hatred spreads through his body like poison, coupled with murderous fury.

"YOU'RE A PATHETIC BEING, LIGHTNING FARRON!" he roars as loudly as he can into the smoke.

"You are all foolish creatures—you and your cursed l'Cie friends! Why do you even bother to fight for them? They are worthless! Your sister who can't even fight, that Yun huntress who believes she's protecting her family while all she does is playing into my plot, and that delusional Dia girl who believes in false hopes! Worse still, that useless orphaned boy, that old father and that foolish man! All of you deserve to be cleansed by the Makers—that's the only way to salvation for this foul world! JUST SUCCUMB TO YOUR FATE, L'CIE!"

With that last sentence, Barthandelus unleashes his Baptism in Ruin. In his fury, he fails to notice his depleting energy—the fast chain of Ruin spells saps his strength tremendously. As they explode consecutively with deafening boom, the fal'Cie pants heavily, struggling to regain some of his strength.

But that's exactly when Lightning leaps out from beneath all the smoke, Fafnir blazing in her hand. Her face is smeared with dried blood, but her deep blue eyes still shine as brightly as ever amidst the crimson layer.

Barthandelus's eyes widen—despite his fury, he begins to feel fear. Nothing he does seem to be able to stop Lightning Farron; all this time, she has never bent to his will. Not once. Never.

In this sudden paroxysm of terror, Barthandelus struggles to break free from the fire chains, roaring and thrashing desperately. Growling, his eyes inadvertently meet Lightning's—and in them, he sees that cold, calm determination he hates so much.

His hatred flares; even as Lightning raises Fafnir to deal her final blow, his eyes never leave hers. This foolish l'Cie—does she really think she'd survive Fafnir's backlash if she stabs him?

"You wouldn't dare," Barthandelus hisses hatefully. "If you stab me, Fafnir would injure you greatly as well! Even if I die, I'll drag you along with me, Lightning Farron!"

But Lightning isn't the last bit deterred. She doesn't hesitate.

"Heck care."

And with that, Lightning stabs the blazing Fafnir into Barthandelus's right eye, at the same time channeling all her remaining energy into a final Wrath of Heavens. The gigantic lightning branch cracks deafeningly, its furious power driving Fafnir's blade all the way through the fal'Cie's skull. For a few seconds, the ravines were illuminated by the white flash.

"AAARRGGH!"

Barthandelus roars in pain, but it is too late for him. The moment Lightning's Wrath of Heavens fades away, Fafnir takes his turn to blaze. The magnificent sword explodes into bright orange flames, its tongues engulf Barthandelus's body hungrily.

However, right at that moment Lightning shouts in pain as well—for that's when all of her wounds flare agonizingly. Fafnir has kept his part of the deal—the moment Lightning manages to stab Barthandelus, he stops holding off her pain.

Lightning grunts as her body falls hard to the ground, her right eye throbbing excruciatingly. And this time, the soldier knows it's not just her eyelid that's wounded. She presses a hand against her eye, feeling blood pouring out of a fresh gash across it. The gash is identical to Barthandelus's, although undoubtedly much shallower.

Lightning grits her teeth against the pain, struggling to pick herself up. Right in front of her, Barthandelus is covered in flames; his arms thrash about, but unable to draw Fafnir out of his head. Lightning glances up painfully, attempting to drag herself away—

—but that's when Barthandelus roars angrily and lifts his claws in Lightning's direction. The soldier registers this; her instincts scream at her to get away, but her body is too wounded to move. Before she can do anything, lustrous green vines have shot out from Barthandelus's claws, tangling themselves around her limbs.

"Let… go!" Lightning shouts in alarm; she thrashes wildly, struggling to break free from the vines' bind. However, it is to no avail; her energy was already drained from that last Wrath of Heavens she unleashed. Slowly, the vines lift her a few meters off the ground, hanging directly in front of Barthandelus's burning form.

Right then, a few more vines erupt from Barthandelus's mouth, shooting straight towards the immobilized soldier. These vines are different from the first ones—they possess sharp tips. Before Lightning can do anything to parry them, the vines have stabbed her open wounds.

"Akh!"

Lightning cries out in pain—the vines have buried themselves in her waist, shoulder and eye wounds. She thrashes again, but all the exertion and pain have weakened her.

The hell… is happening?!

In her fading consciousness, Lightning struggles to comprehend what is happening. Barthandelus is dying, that's for sure; but his last attack seems too ineffective. Why didn't he just shoot her with a Ruinga? Why… these vines…? What are they?

But that's when a faint memory comes into her mind. With dread, Lightning realizes where she's seen these vines before: they look just like those that entangle her and her friends, back there in the Pulse Vestige when they first got turned into l'Cie.

But I'm already a l'Cie… what…

CRACK!

"Ugh!"

Lightning's head jerks back—for right then, a cold pain stabs into her wounds, flowing torturously into her from the invading vines. It spreads slowly across her wounds, forcing the soldier to shut her eyes in pain. Gritting her teeth, Lightning forces her left eye to open—she has to see what's happening—

What she sees fills her with cold dread, something she has never felt before.

Her body is turning into crystal. Right there, right then, the crystal is spreading from the vines buried in her wounds. She can see her waist wound clearly through her torn overcoat—it is closing right before her eyes, as if healed by a Curaga. But it is closed by crystal, not flesh… furthermore, the crystal is spreading towards her ribs. The same cold pain in her right eye and shoulder tells her that her other wounds are being crystallised too, and that the crystal would spread to her entire body eventually. Lightning thrashes in panic, struggling to break free from the vines. This must be Barthandelus's last effort—he can't kill her anymore, that's why he's resorting to turning her into crystal.

Barthandelus bellows—all the while, his body is being consumed by Fafnir's flames. He channels his last energy into the vines, attempting to hasten the crystallisation process. As a fal'Cie, he's not supposed to crystallise his l'Cie before she completes her Focus—the consequence is his death. But right now, he's already so close to death itself. If he can do one last thing to hurt his hated nemesis, he doesn't care what it brings upon him!

Meanwhile, despite the danger threatening her, Lightning feels her consciousness fading. Her thrashing weakens; she has no more strength left… even as the vines jerk her higher above the ground and continue injecting cold pain into her body, Lightning finds herself unable to move. It already takes all her energy to even keep her left eye half-opened… if this continues, soon her entire body will be…

"GET OFF HER!"

That sudden shout echoes through the ravines, causing Lightning to twitch weakly in surprise. She struggles to clear her vision; yet all she can see is a blurred shadow dashing straight towards the vines extending between her and Barthandelus. A streak of red—and before she knows it, the vines binding her body lose their hold. Lightning falls to the ground on a crouching position, faintly realizing that the newcomer has cut the vines.

Barthandelus roars furiously. Even while Fafnir burns his body, he raises his claws, swiping them at Lightning. The soldier tenses—

—but nothing hits her. A clang resounds through the air, along with a familiar voice shouting, "Back off!"

Fang…?

Lightning lifts her head with much effort; but her vision is so hazy that all she can register is a blue shadow pushing the burning Barthandelus away, both of their forms getting further from her. With a tremendous effort, the soldier straightens her body so she's now resting on her knees. She can see a bit clearer now—the red streaks of Fang's lance slashing Barthandelus… and the fal'Cie's recoiling form within all the flames. How can he survive this long? The flames are already engulfing his entire body…

But right then, suddenly Barthandelus's eyes flick up and meet hers. Lightning isn't sure how she can see them with her blurred vision; but she remembers clearly seeing those cold grey orbs staring hatefully at her. They burn with so much hatred, menacingly stark amidst the flames consuming his face. However, that would be the last time Lightning sees those eyes.

BLAAAM!

…Because exactly then, Barthandelus's massive form explodes into a thousand crystal shards, an explosion so great that the entire plains tremble and groan. Lightning gasps; forcing herself to remain upright even as the crystal shards start settling to the ground.

However, the soldier hasn't noticed Fafnir. The moment Barthandelus exploded, the fal'Cie sword is sent spinning through the air, propelled by the explosion. The white flames around its blade have disappeared, but the great sword still brims with bloodlust. Now that Barthandelus is no more, he heads for the only blood source he has—he spins straight towards Lightning's neck.

…But before Fafnir can hurt Lightning, a couple of hooked wires intervenes his trajectory; slamming the huge sword to the ground beside the drained soldier with a sharp clang. Lightning blinks tiredly—she recognizes those hooked wires, but she's too exhausted to react. The only thing she manages to do is glancing at Fafnir.

The orange flames within his blade have disappeared—indicating no presence of a fal'Cie.

No fal'Cie around.

Barthandelus… is really gone.

At this realization, a warm, comforting relief sweeps through Lightning, a feeling she hasn't felt in so long. Out of a sudden it feels like tons of burden have just been lifted off her shoulders, burden she's borne for way too long. Ever since they got turned into l'Cie, never for a second were they free from Barthandelus's threat. They were forced to live in constant fear, dreading his murderous approach for what feels to be a very long time… But now…

Everything is over. Barthandelus is gone; there's nothing left to fear... his threat has vanished. They're safe…

Everyone's… alive.

And despite the great relief this realization brings, at the same time it seems to make her feel even more exhausted. Lightning trembles; she struggles to fight the exhaustion, but to no avail. Her body is screaming for rest, demanding her to give in. There's nothing left to fear after all… she's done her part in this battle, she can fall back now…

Releasing a trembling breath, the weary soldier finally allows herself some respite. Her torso slumps—as all energy seems to leave her, Lightning's body starts to fall sideways.

—but never hits the ground. A pair of warm, slender arms catches her, before lowering her wounded body softly to the ground. Lightning groans, forcing her left eye to remain open. Her vision is blurry as hell, but she can still recognize Vanille's face hovering above hers. The redhead's eyebrows are frowned in worry, her mouth opened as she shouts something. But Lightning can't hear her… all she can see is Vanille's terrified expression. Strange… she can also see Vanille's hand touching the right side of her face, but she can't feel anything.

Then suddenly, the ground beneath her trembles. It's actually just a very light shake, but enough to make Lightning wince in pain. Someone else has just arrived, hovering above her beside Vanille. She knows that unruly raven hair…

Fang…

It's Fang, alright. The huntress kneels down beside Vanille, her eyebrows raised in horror the moment she sees Lightning's face. Vanille's mouth moves again as she says something to Fang, but Lightning can't think anymore.

Her consciousness dims—but before her eye fully closes, Lightning manages to see Fang swiping her tattered overcoat aside and Vanille's horrified gasp upon seeing her midriff. The little redhead is covering her mouth with her hands, her eyes looking utterly terrified.

Then a comforting darkness arrives, giving rest to the soldier's battered-up body.


Something is wrong. It is supposed to be nighttime now, I'm sure of it. But as we run across the Archylte Steppe, the gentle light of the rising sun indicates otherwise. What's happening? How can dawn arrive so soon here?

Coming up with no plausible answer, I decide to ignore the mystery and concentrate on running faster. Beside me, Hope, Sazh and Snow are sprinting as fast as they can as well. I don't know how I can keep up with them—usually they run a lot faster than me—but for some reason, today I can. As we run, the cold, fresh wind of the morning keeps blowing against us.

Light… sis, where are you?!

We've been running for a while, but still we see no sign of Fang or Vanille. When we managed to break through that Paling, Sazh immediately contacted Fang through our comm device. However, the connection is so bad that we can hardly understand Fang's shouting.

Still, one sentence rang out louder and clearer than the rest.

Barthandelus is dead.

A mix of feelings hit me like a torrent the moment we heard those words. The first one was shock; then relief; followed with exhilarating joy and jubilation. However, they soon turn into worry.

Because Fang didn't manage to tell us anything about Light. Amidst all those incessant static, we can only heard her shouting Lightning's name. We guessed that'd mean Light survived; but in what condition? She can be dying from her wounds right now!

A permanent frown of worry has been etched on my forehead since. I am so worried for Light... How badly is she hurt? Is she even conscious? Has Vanille started healing her?

We get no more answers from the comm device; right then, the connection entirely got cut off. We stared at each other for a while, somewhat disbelieving the news. I mean… we've been fighting Barthandelus for so long, too long. More than once, we thought defeating him was impossible. But now… he's dead?

It feels too good to be true.

Something bad must have happened. Barthandelus couldn't have gone down easily; he must have ferociously used all his power, all his strength and magic. That means… there's a high possibility that Lightning is badly injured now.

Upon drawing this same conclusion, all of us jumped onto our feet without a moment's delay. Snow, Sazh, Hope and I—we immediately sprinted as fast as we can, jumping into the deteriorating portal to Gran Pulse without giving a damn about the risk. And ever since we arrived at Archylte Steppe, we haven't stopped running. We run and run, following the trails that Fang and Vanille left for us.

Just as I feel my legs trembling with exhaustion, Snow suddenly shouts.

"Hey! There they are; I see them!"

"Who? Is Lightning there?!" I ask, struggling to see ahead myself. But since Snow is a lot taller than the rest of us, he is the only one able to see what lies beyond.

"I see Fang… and Vanille… and Light!"

That single sentence is enough to make my heart jolt with relief. Sucking in a deep breath, I force myself to run even faster, getting ahead of Snow, Sazh and Hope. My heart pounds against my ribcage, her name the only thing ringing in my head.

Light, Lightning, sis…Please be okay…

And then I see them. Fang and Vanille, crouching on the grass-covered ground.

"Fang! Vanille!" Sazh shouts, waving his arms.

Fang looks up immediately, her jade eyes flashing with alarm. However, she relaxes when she sees us. She waves back urgently, while Vanille straightens her torso to look around—and that's when I see Lightning lying on the ground before her.

Without wasting any more time, I dash to their side.

"Vanille, Fang! Is Light—is she—is she alright?" I pant heavily, my breathing fast and erratic after all the sprinting. I skid to a halt beside them, my eyes quickly noticing Fafnir on the ground. His blade is transparent, indicating no presence of a fal'Cie—Barthandelus… is really dead.

At this reassurance, my heart gave a jolt of joy and relief. If Barthandelus is gone, then there's nothing left to fear; even if Lightning's injured, Vanille can easily heal her—

However, that's when I catch a sight of Lightning's face—and my heart skips a beat as my eyes widen in horror.

I expected to see bleeding wounds—after all, I knew her waist wound from Yojimbo has reopened. I expected to see it, gaping red amidst her pale skin, along with countless other injuries. Yet I was also expecting to see Vanille already in the process of healing her, stitching back all those lacerations.

But what I see is worse than any wound.

…Crystal.

Smooth, glimmering crystal has covered Lightning's right eye, which remains open even now while her left eye is closed in her unconscious state. The crystal has frozen her brilliant right eye, leaving it staring ahead emptily, without seeing.

And it's not only her eye; the crystal has spread to about a quarter of her face, from the right eye up to the eyebrow, sideways to the temple, even slightly downwards to her cheek. At the boundary where the crystal meets skin, its edges are rather jagged; yet the transition is smooth as though Lightning's face has always been half-crystallized like this.

And now her right eye permanently stares blankly, a cold pool the color of the palest winter sky. Under the soft light of the rising sun, the crystal glitters rather beautifully, dots of purple and pink hues start appearing within it. But her eye is still… empty. Lifeless. Blank. Blinded…

At this, a soft sob escapes my lips. Behind me, the others are staring at Lightning as well, equally horrified. My mind feels frozen with disbelief; but that doesn't stop my eyes from noticing that other parts of Lightning's body have also been crystallized.

Left waist and shoulder. Just like her right eye, Lightning's left waist and shoulder have also turned into crystal. They glow softly, totally ignorant of my horrified gaze at them.

I didn't realize dropping to my knees, but out of a sudden I find myself kneeling beside Lightning—my face only inches apart from her crystallized eye. My hand reaches out gingerly, towards the crystal covering her waist.

It's cold. The moment my fingers graze the crystal, I immediately feel its coldness. It is smooth indeed, but hard. And cold, even colder than the dawn wind blowing relentlessly around us. Helplessly, I look up at Vanille, begging for some kind of explanation.

Vanille shakes her head, the terrified look in her eyes mirroring mine. She seems unable to talk, so I desperately turn to Fang instead. The huntress has stood up, gripping her lance tight. I look at her, pleading for some explanation. What exactly has happened?!

Upon seeing my silent plea, Fang lets out a voice between choking and cursing. She clears her throat, but when she speaks up her voice is hoarse.

"We were too late. When we arrived in the Steppe, we saw a massive branch of lightning tearing the sky in the distance. No natural lightning can reach that size; it had to be Lightning's Wrath of Heavens. So naturally we headed towards it as fast as we can, eventually reaching this place. But when we arrived, that damned Barthandelus was already entangling Lightning in some vines, luminous vines erupting from his claws and mouth… I didn't know what they were—but I know they can't be anything good." The huntress scoffs, her grip on her lance tightening. We keep silent, waiting anxiously for her to continue.

"… Actually by then Fafnir was already stuck in Barthandelus's head and flames were engulfing him. The only conclusion I could make was that he was dying, and attempting to drag Light along. So yeah, I did the only thing that came into my mind. I dashed in and cut those vines, they disappeared immediately... but that damned fal'Cie still hasn't given up."

At this memory, Fang lets out a fierce growl. "He tried clawing Lightning, so I pushed him away," she continues coldly. "I was going to slash his head off, but that wasn't needed. Before I could do anything to him, Fafnir's flames have engulfed him fully and he exploded."

Fang stops, staring sternly at us. "That's it for him. Only afterwards did I realize that he was actually crystallizing Lightning with those vines."

I fall silent, still unable to process all this. Slowly, I voice out the one question I dread the most.

"Is… is there no way we can remove the crystal? I mean, Barthandelus is dead now—shouldn't the crystal disappear?!"

My voice trembles; laced with desperation. My gaze drops back to Lightning, taking in her pale face, her closed left eye, her soft hair fluttering gently in the wind. She looks normal, she even looks like she's asleep… if not for the crystal covering almost half her body. In my attempt to avoid seeing them, my eyes flick back to Vanille, silently begging her to do something, anything.

But to my horror, Vanille shakes her head slowly.

"I've never seen anything like this, Serah… I've never seen anyone half-crystallized before. I've done my best; I've tried casting all the healing spells I know—but have you guys realized? Now that Barthandelus is dead, our magic is weakened. I can't even cast a Curaga anymore, let alone summoning Hecatoncheir."

Her voice rings hollowly in my ears, as empty as Lightning's crystal eye. They wipe off the last remnant of hope I had. I was thinking of summoning Phoenix, of begging him to heal Light… After all, he'd heal her so perfectly before… but now, even that option is gone. What Vanille said is true; now that she's pointed it out, I notice that I can no longer sense my magic. It seems Barthandelus's destruction has taken our l'Cie powers along as well. Vanille can still use some of her healing magic—but her magic has always been the strongest in our party after all. It seems plausible enough that some remnants still linger within her…

But that's not enough to reverse crystallisation. Lightning… will be half-crystallised forever.

At this stark realization, I feel tears running down my cheek uncontrollably. I double over, crying in anguish. I barely notice Snow's arms around me—he's whispering soothing words, but I can't stop sobbing.

It's true that we have defeated Barthandelus. A new dawn, a safe dawn, has finally descended upon Cocoon… all of us are free from Barthandelus's threat now. Yet none of us feel victorious at all.

Because the price of this freedom is too high. How could this happen to us? Why must Lightning always be the one having to bear everything?!

Even through the stream of tears, I can still see the gentle light of dawn reflecting off Lightning's crystal eye.


A/N: if you guys have difficulty imagining Lightning's crystallized eye, try looking at Stiria's right eye then. Well, Light's crystal eye is similar to that :B as always, thanks for all the reviews guyysss. I'll do my best to update ASAP despite all those schoolwork, cos all of you are simply amazing and deserve nothing less than that. Thanks again!

For Viento, thanks a lot for your review! I'm glad you love FF13 and this fic :,D Haha so you ship Flight, huh? This pairing is really popular, a lot of ppl I know ship them xD mmnyeah I just want to say that your review had really made my day :) It motivates me to keep writing despite the nonsensical amount of schoolwork, lol. Sorry again for this super slow update, but nevertheless I hope you like this chap. And your English is totally fineee, hurhurhur. See ya 'round, take careee :B

lightning1997, hey, hi again! So sorry to make you wait this long D: don't worry you're not being rude or anything, quite the contrary in fact. Thanks for following this fic, I'm so glad you actually look forward to reading it :,) your review has spurred me to write faster, lol. So yeah, here's the new chap for you! Hope you enjoy it… and sorry in advance, cos I can't even say when the next update will be. On lighter notes, yeah my hand's healed perfectly :) thanks for the concern!