A week passed. With each additional day, the atmosphere in the Citadel grew more tense. They had advertised Kind Regis' visit to Cape Shawe on a military matter. With a date settled in place, all they could do was send out their decoy in the Regalia with a contingent of Crownsguards, and wait..

Reina did not Dream again. They had no more information on the attack than they had held before. It was not altogether comforting. They could change the future of Reina's Dreams—they had discovered that in Tenebrae—but which of their actions had already inadvertently affected the outcome of Niflheim's invasion? What if they had unintentionally caused some shift that would prevent the empire from ever attacking Cape Shawe? And how would they ever know?

But they waited. They could do little else. The air in the throne room was thick and tense following the departure of Regis' double. All other matters in the kingdom faded into the background as they awaited news on this front. Nothing constructive was likely to occur today. Regis stepped away with that knowledge in mind. He could wait just as well upstairs as he could in the throne room, and with vastly improved company.

So he passed the morning sitting on the floor in front of the coffee table and having his skills with the crayon critiqued by two nine year olds. Ignis was much less critical. He gave Regis more credit than Regis deserved.

The afternoon was just beginning when the elevator whirred to life and, a minute later, the doors opened.

"Regis." Clarus squeezed out before they were all the way open. "Imperial ships have been spotted in the southwest."

Regis extracted himself from between his twins and rose to his feet. "To the throne room—I would rather be present than have you ferry messages and miss something important."

"My knees thank you," Clarus said.

Regis took a step around the coffee table and glanced back at his children. He opened his mouth to make his excuses to them, then stopped himself. He could not, perhaps, justify bringing Reina to each and every council meeting or session of court. But if he were in the habit of taking her to important ones, She might just see more.

"Reina, my dear. It would help me immensely if you were to attend court with me right now."

Reina, who had been looking glum at the prospect of losing him to politics for the remainder of the day, brightened. "You want me to come, Father?"

"Yes, little Princess. I do."

So he was left making excuses to only one of his children. In hindsight, it may have been a poor choice to insist that Reina come and not also invite Noctis, but they were short on time and he could not afford to have a restless child in his lap.

"Noctis, behave for Miss Crea. We will be back as soon as possible."

Noctis nodded wordlessly, though he stared at his sister as if he would say something to her—or had, but not in any language Regis could understand. Worries for another time. Regis took Reina's hand and they followed Clarus to the elevator. He caught Crea's eye on the way out. The nervous energy in the air had caught her, but she smiled anyway. He must not have botched things with his children too badly if she was still smiling.

The Citadel was already abuzz with activity. Regis and Reina cut through the flow of people with Clarus in their wake. In the throne room, the council gallery was full save for Clarus' empty seat.

"What news?" Regis asked, before he was even seated on his throne.

"Our scouts have confirmed that the imperial ships are bound for Cape Shawe, Your Majesty."

"And word of the general?" Regis asked.

"None yet, Sire. We have no way of knowing until the transports unload."

They waited. Hardly a rustle of fabric could be heard in the entire room. Regis tapped his fingers on the arm of his throne. Reina, in his lap, covered his hand with both of hers. When he looked down at her she smiled up at him and squeezed his fingers.

Nine years old and already trying to comfort him. Where had this child come from? Surely not from him. He had four times her years and a fraction of her empathy.

But of course. She was Aulea's last gift to him.

Twenty minutes passed before news came again.

"Magitek soldiers are dropping from the ships, Sire. Captain Ulric and his contingent of Kingsglaives are lying in wait and our soldiers are maintaining their incognito."

They would wait until the opportune moment to strike. Not until General Glauca had shown himself. Or, in lieu of that, not until all imperial troops had landed.

"Current estimate puts their numbers at roughly thirty soldiers, Your Majesty. More incoming."

The empty men fell from their ships. Numbers continued to rise and Regis compared the steadily growing invading force to their own defenders.

Reina's hold on his hand tightened. Regis held her closer, wondering if he hadn't made a mistake bringing her here. The empty men were her first nightmare. How could he think to subject her to reports of their invasion on Lucis' border?

"One hundred soldiers on the ground, Your Majesty. One more transport incoming."

Already the imperial numbers matched their own. And one Lucian soldier was not equal to one imperial soldier. The Magitek men felt no pain, no fear, and had no need for rest. The Kingsglaive might even their odds, but if that final transport held Glauca, they would not have the opportunity.

"Final transport is open, Your Majesty, and dropping metal crates on Cape Shawe."

Regis shut his eyes. Daemons. They sent daemons—enough to distract the Kingsglaive from the rest of the battle without giving them what they wanted.

"Sire! General Glauca has been spotted!"

His eyes snapped open. Drautos, daemons, and a hundred soldiers. It was just possible that the Glaive could still complete their mission, but only if their pursued it at the cost of all else. Their soldiers would be slaughtered.

"Our forces have broken cover and engaged the imperial forces."

Reina squirmed in his lap, clutching at his sleeve.

Ulric cared about his people. He wouldn't let the Glaive, at least, fall to a hopeless cause. But he also cared about results—honor and duty. If not for the others he would have followed Drautos to the ends of Eos. The soldiers were under another jurisdiction altogether. If the Kingsglaive were engaged with Drautos and the daemons, it was unlikely Ulric would be aware of what was happening to the Lucian troops at all.

Which meant that either Regis gave the order to retreat and lost Lucis its prize or all those men and women would lose their lives today.

Was the imperial general worth a hundred Lucian soldiers?

How many lives could be spared in the future if he was apprehended now? Did that justify making such a sacrifice?

A heavy silence fell over the throne room. Eventually, one councillor cleared his throat.

"Perhaps… reinforcements could be sent?"

"Cape Shawe is hours away by car," Clarus said. "The battle will be long concluded by then."

One way or the other.

Eyes turned toward Regis. He strained for some way out of the situation, some possibility they had overlooked. If only they had baited Niflheim closer to Insomnia. If only they had sent more troops. If only they had been given some notion of how many the empire would send. But the small glimpse of the future they had through Reina's Dreams was patchy and unpredictable. No one could have foreseen this invading force without her. No one could have guessed at these numbers: a hundred Magitek, daemons, and Glauca was excessive for one small coastal town.

"A decision must be made, Your Majesty," Clarus said. "We can call a retreat, but Glauca will be lost to us."

"We can bait him again," Felice suggested.

"But not in this fashion," Aldebrand said. "They will be more wary from here out. And what are our chances of gaining such information on their movements, again?"

Silence fell once more. Every councillor in the room stared at him.

If only he had some way of reaching them in time. By himself, he might be able to turn the tide. To date he was the only person who had stood alone against Glauca. If he could engage the general, the Kingsglaive could handle the daemons and aid the soldiers. But not even the Regalia could have taken him across Lucis fast enough.

Unless.

He did have one other method of transportation open to him. By Drautos' own admission it was possible to reach Niflheim from Insomnia in an instant. Why not Cape Shawe?

Because it was dangerous and reckless. Because he had little notion of what would lay waiting for him on the other side, even if he could somehow trace a path directly there without colliding with anyone or anything. Because the strain of using his magic these days was worse than ever and he was now considering using more than he ever had before.

"None of the options available to us are favorable," Regis said. "But there is one more path we have not yet considered. I should be capable of reaching Cape Shawe on my own, using the same method that allowed Drautos to travel seamlessly between Insomnia and Niflheim in the past."

"The same method that you warned was reckless?" Clarus asked.

"It was. Before we knew for certain it was possible."

Now it was simply dangerous.

They continued to stare, some shocked, others intrigued, and Clarus terrified.

Regis made up his mind. "Contact Nyx Ulric. Direct him to find a place away from the battle, clear of other people or objects in a five foot radius."

That should give him sufficient space. Then he could use his link to Ulric as an anchor to guide him. It would be easier to find the correct location that way.

"Don't do this, Regis." Clarus stood, his voice quiet as his usual stoicism cracked. "Do not throw yourself into danger where I can't follow you."

"I must, Clarus."

"You don't have the strength."

He might have agreed once, not so long ago. But Clarus was wrong. He had strength yet. He could stand alone against Drautos. He could maintain the Wall and still wield the armiger. He could battle a Marilith and still have the strength leftover to save his son's life. He could protect his daughter from her own magic, and pull her back from the In-Between when she ventured too far or became trapped in a Dream. He did more in a day than Cor did in a week, but they coddled him because they had all been too afraid of his waning youth to recognize it

If Drautos could warp from here to Niflheim, Regis could reach Cape Shawe.

"I have some strength left in me, Clarus. Enough to do what must be done," Regis said.

"Captain Ulric has confirmed your orders, Sire."

Regis rose to his feet, turning to set Reina down on his empty throne. She clung to him.

"Don't go, Father."

"Reina, I must. I know this is a dangerous line I walk, but sometimes I must take a risk."

"You could be hurt," she said. "The bad man is strong."

"If I save lives, that is a risk I must take, my dear." He kissed her forehead and looked into her entreating eyes. "Will I be successful?"

She shook her head. "I don't know, Father."

Of course. She only had a sense of what would happen to him and Noctis. No one else. The priorities of a nine year old were narrow yet.

"I must try," he said.

"Captain Ulric is in position, Sire!"

This time when he set her down on the throne she let him go. She sat on the edge of his seat, watching him descend the stairs to the center of the throne room. Then she rose and stood at the top of the steps.

He sorted through the dozens of links through which he shared his magic with others—his Glaives and his inner circle. He found Ulric's and grasped it tight.

"Father!" Reina called after him. "They're not coming here today, okay? Just to the beach."

His focus, by then, was on the magic and tracing a path from the throne room to Cape Shaw. His brain stored the words away without endeavoring to make any sense of them. He would think on them later. If there was time.

Once he was certain he knew were Ulric was, he reached for his own magic.

"Clarus," Regis called. "Keep the kingdom in my absence. Reina—be good, little Princess."

And he turned and stepped into the In-Between.

He had little time to shift and change the space around him, folding it so that he could step through and emerge where Ulric was. The nothingness pressed in on him, threatening to suck his soul from his body if he lingered too long. This was not a place for living beings to dwell. He folded the space as rapidly and precisely as he was able, clinging to life as he groped for the physical world just beyond. If he fell out somewhere besides his destination, he could end up anywhere—still inside the Citadel, in Insomnia but two hundred feet off the ground, inside a tree in the Outlands, or in the middle of the imperial chancellor's throne room.

He grasped for the spot where his link to Ulric exited the In-Between. No time to look beyond. His chest was alright tight with lack of air. He would just have to trust that Ulric had provided enough space for him.

He stepped out.

The world spun around him, green and grey and brown and refusing to come into focus as he tumbled back into being. He hit the ground before he knew which direction was up. And he lay there as the sky spun overhead, still wondering if he wasn't lying on the ceiling.

"Your Majesty?" A face appeared over his.

"Ulric." Regis managed, once he found his voice again. "I believe I may need a hand."

Ulric provided him with one. "Did you warp here?"

"Mh. I do not recommend it, if you were considering the same." Regis grasped his wrist as tightly as his muscles would allow.

Ulric pulled him to his feet. Regis managed to stay upright, only stumbling a few steps, and took several deep breaths in hopes of keeping his breakfast down. That was not a problem he had faced with warping for a few decades.

"Are you alright, Your Majesty?"

Regis convinced his stomach to stay put and endeavored to do the same with his head. "I think so."

He took another breath and straightened, looking up at Ulric. This time the captain had only one head and it remained in the same place when Regis focused on it. Though it did wear a skeptical expression.

"The battle?" Regis asked.

Ulric pointed and Regis followed the gesture. They stood on a hill overlooking the beach that the imperials had landed on. The numbers were about what he had expected: Magitek soldiers fought against Lucian ones while the Kingsglaive split themselves between the few daemons and the man in the Magitek armor.

"We're losing ground, Your Majesty. I hope you're fit to fight. We could use the backup."

"That is why I have come. No time to waste." He led the way down with Ulric on his heels.

Ulric had done a good job of choosing a space, given how poor the instructions Regis had provided him with had been. A short walk took them down to the beach and into the fray. They would have to cut through the bulk of Niflheim's force to reach Drautos.

Regis reached for the In Between and found the Armiger waiting for him. He called it with a thought. Six spectral blades leapt into being, circling around him with each step he took. Ulric sidestepped away from him, giving the spectral glaives a once over before turning his eyes ahead once more.

They reached the fight, cutting through the edge of it and striking out for the coast where Drautos was. The Armiger shot out ahead of Regis. Six inattentive Magitek soldiers were impaled by magic blades and fell to the ground with the red glow of their eyes blinking out.

Regis moved on, cutting down every imperial that stood in his path. When a spray of bullets scattered in his direction he threw up a barrier before even one could find its mark. Ulric's own shield came a beat after his. It might well have been an instant too late, had Regis not been there. Ulric gave him a peculiar look.

Perhaps that look was for a trick he had never seen. Perhaps it was because he had expected his king to be helpless in combat. Else, why would he have a Kingsglaive at all?

And that was how Regis was seen, these days, was it not? That was what Drautos thought of him. A weak old man who cowered behind his Wall, too pathetic even to face the enemies of his kingdom. A king who recruited an elite army to share his magic with, since he could no longer wield it effectively in combat.

False. All of it false.

The Armiger returned to him, forming a whirlwind of blades around him as he advanced. They reached the line of Kingsglaive, where they held the daemons back from the Lucian soldiers.

"Make way for the king!" Ulric shouted from behind him.

A few of the Kingsglaives chanced glances over their shoulders. In that brief instant of time their eyes widened in surprise. Their ranks parted, making space for Regis to pass through—provided he could cut through the daemons.

Or perhaps he didn't need to.

He could see Drautos now, engaged in combat with four of the Glaives and holding his own easily. With that suit of armor, they had little chance of bringing him down without Regis.

Regis gauged the distance, pinpointed his destination, and stepped outside of reality. The Armiger followed. When he re-emerged and instant later on the opposite side of the daemons and Kingsglaives, the spectral arms still circled him.

Drautos was mere feet away. He swung his massive sword at one of the Glaives, who managed to phase out of the way at the last second.

"And lo, the coward king appears," Drautos said, his voice unnatural deep and hollow with the Magitek suit on. "I had thought you fled; once again leaving others to cover your retreat and protect your precious skin."

"Face me, Drautos. You will not find the satisfaction you seek in killing your own students," Regis said. "Ulric, focus your people on the daemon threat."

"But Your Majesty—"

"I stand quite well on my own, thank you Captain," Regis said, keeping his eyes fixed on Drautos.. "Do as I command."

"Glaives, fall back," Ulric called. "Eliminate the daemons."

The Glaives followed orders better than their captain did. Even after the four had left Drautos to join the fight against the daemons, Ulric lingered at the edge of the field, one eye on Regis.

"You are, of course, to thank for my timely intervention," Regis said. "I would never have arrived so quickly if not for your experimentation in warping."

"You astound me, Your Majesty," Dratuos said. "I never thought you capable of stepping outside your own comfort zone. Or outside your Wall… yet here we stand beyond the reach of both. You have nowhere to flee."

"Is that so?" Regis stood with his hands at his sides, tense and prepared to strike with all six of his blades, should Drautos give any hint of attacking. "If this were to go against me, what would prevent me from leaving the way I had come?"

"You, yourself, admitted the stretch would be a strain on your precious energy. The King of Peace is too weak to attempt such a feat twice in rapid succession. I am surprised you are on your feet at all."

Regis smiled bitterly. How many years had he spent listening to people tell him that? His strength was waning. They all worried what it meant when he couldn't keep pace with Cor on a jog around the gardens anymore, or complete the physical aptitude test that Cor used to test his Crownsguards. Clarus fretted when Regis admitted his sword felt a little heavier in his hand, these days.

Yet he held a Wall around all of Insomnia that not even the bulk of Niflheim's firepower could break through. He could face down the Marilith that a dozen Crownsguards couldn't get close to—some good all those push ups and pull ups had done them. He could hold his own against a man in a Magitek suit when it took four Glaives to do the same.

And he could beat Drautos, given the chance.

"It is a struggle," Regis said.

Everything was a struggle. So much so that he hardly noticed the strain at all anymore.

For twenty years he had been holding the heaviest weight in Eos. And everyone wondered why he struggled to do a push up at the same time. What would his strength be if he set that weight down, even for a moment? Greater than it had been at twenty, of that he had little doubt.

Drautos lunged at him. The Armiger reacted in response to Regis' thoughts and six blades met one. And held. Drauto's augmented physical strength against Regis' magic.

Regis strained against him, teeth gritted, sweat beading on his brow. They were matched, for the moment. He needed only muster a little more strength to push him away…

…He didn't need to collapse the Wall. He only needed to take some of his strength back. The shield would remain over the city—visually all but the same. But it would be weak. One blow from an Imperial cannon would bring it crashing down. If only he could be certain—

Reina's words came back to him.

"They're not coming here today"

How she had known he would need that information he had no notion. But she had. She had known well before he did.

Regis loosened his hold on the Wall, letting some of his own strength drain back into his body. It was like the first sip of cold water after a long day in sweltering heat. He had strength he could hardly remember ever possessing. He had to stop himself from taking all of it back. He only needed some. Just one drink to outmatch Drautos.

He threw the extra power behind the Armiger. Drautos flew backward, flung away from Regis' blades by the added force. Regis flung them after him. Six blades, one after the other, shot toward Drautos in his Magitek armor. Drautos' sword came up too late. One was knocked away. One struck his arm. The next four embedded themselves squarely into his chest, each one drawing a grunt of pain from him. He staggered, still on his feet—barely. Regis pushed harder. The blades slid deeper in, cutting through liquid Magitek metal and burying in flesh.

The low groan of pain cut into a gurgle. Drautos dropped to his knees, his sword falling free from his grip.

The last blade of the Armiger lodged itself in the neck of Drauto's armor and Regis flicked it upward, knocking the helmet off.

He approached, drawing his own sword from the In-Between. The weight was a comfort in his hand.

"H...how…?" Drautos choked, his voice no longer unnatural with no mask to hide his face. Blood dripped from his lips.

"In your estimation of my character—of Lucis' character—you made a fatal mistake, Drautos." Regis stopped in front of Drautos, shifting his grip on his sword. "Mercy is not weakness."

Drautos spat at him. Blood flecked Regis' black suit. He glanced down at it, then back to Drautos. Here was the man who had caused countless Lucian lives to be lost. Here was the man who would have taken countless more, if Regis had not stopped him. Completely at his mercy.

"Yet now I find I have none left to give."

In a flash he brought his sword down. With the sickening crunch of metal on bone, Drautos' head came free of his neck.