Despite his assurances to Crea that a better understanding of Reina's barrier had given him the confidence to sleep through the night, Regis had no reprieve that night. No rest. His world was overturned and his mind roiled with too many uncomfortable possibilities. When dawn came—dim and watery though it was—he was no more well-rested than he had been for the past several days.

When had he last slept through the night? He couldn't recall.

It was a dangerous state to be in as king. Whatever he told Crea and Clarus regarding his sleep deprivation, he recognized that. Nevertheless, he had tasks that needed to be seen to and he could not bring himself to face the thought of returning to bed in any case. He was beginning to understand how Reina could both fear and revere her Dreams.

With Avun's help, he dressed and set out from his rooms to face the day. Though Crea, Clarus, and Weskham all regarded him with looks of pursed-lipped worry, they seemed willing to hold their tongues for the time being. The first, at least, he could handle. He even welcomed the concern Crea held for him; it served as a quiet reminder of her care for him, however they hid it away from day to day. But to be fussed over by a beautiful woman was considerably different than being fussed over by one's brothers.

To Weskham and Clarus, however, he owed an explanation. He had no others he could give it to. And though what he had learned would doubtless shake them near as much as it had shaken him, he could not keep these secrets from them. Not now that they had come to light.

He pulled them aside, along with Cor and Cid, carving a few moments of time out of his too-full schedule for a private conversation with his retinue. And he told all: from his conversations with Ardyn to Somnus' confession to the visions of Solheim that Ardyn had conjured up. When he had finished, they sat in silence, looking at no one.

Weskham was the first to break the silence. "Is there nowhere you can turn for verification on this second tale?"

"No one knows the true origin of the Starscourge," Clarus said.

"Save for the Astrals themselves," Regis said.

Clarus looked sharply up at him. "You mean to ask the Draconian or the Fulgarian who—even now—lays waste to your kingdom whether or not they created the scourge? That is folly."

Regis leaned back in his chair with a sigh. "I have merely given the answer to Weskham's question. We have no written records stretching back to Solheim. It is true that some ruins of their city survive in Lucis today, but our chances of finding what we seek contained within is slim to the point of impossibility. For obvious reasons I find it unlikely that a dying man scratched 'the Astrals created the plague' into a temple wall for the sake of future generations."

"Even if they had, what good does that do us?" Cor asked. "We can't send people to scour every ruin in search of clues. The roads are washed out, the Outlands are in chaos, and we need every available worker—soldier or otherwise—to fight against this storm. We can't afford to spend any more time doing research. I don't trust this man any more than the rest of you, but he is the enemy of our enemy. I say side with him. Side with him and use whatever power he has at his disposal to stop this damn storm before all of Lucis is washed away."

"Your frustrations are well founded," Clarus said. "But it is not so simple. The true enemy is not the storm but the Starscourge. And whatever its origin, it is clear that the scourge is embodied in Ardyn."

Thus far, Sylva's reports from the Outlands were not heartening. Ravus had warned that the Starscourge was more prevalent than they were aware of, and what information he had gathered had passed to his mother. Nevertheless, she still struggled to round up the afflicted and cure them in the midst of this storm. Progress was being made, but it was slow. How long would it be before she returned with good news?

"But if the scourge has truly been created by the Astrals, does that not mean we should stand against them?" Regis asked.

"Then we return to the question of confirmation," Clarus said. "As I dare not take anything Ardyn says as truth without additional proof."

A knock came to the door of Regis' study.

"Your Majesty! Lookouts report imperial ships descending on the city!"

Now, of all times?

"I thought we had negotiated a ceasefire." Clarus was on his feet; the others hastened to do the same.

"We had." Regis followed a moment after, ignoring the protest of his tired mind and body. "And then we invaded Tenebrae and took custody of the Oracle and her daughter."

Clarus yanked the door open and held it for Regis. One by one they filed out of his study. With Regis in the lead, they set a course for the war room.

"He gave them to us," Cor objected.

He had. Every arrangement in the manor had reeked of Ardyn's touch and Ardyn had allowed them to walk free with Sylva and Lunafreya. Almost as an olive branch. But from whom had the branch come? Not the empire, it seemed.

"I suspect the chancellor is no longer on an imperial leash," Regis said.

"If he ever was," Clarus said.

Several of the councilors along with Captain Ulric were already assembled when they arrived. Ulric stood at attention with a stiffness even Cor must have admired.

"A dozen Magitek transport engines are en route to Insomnia, Your Majesty," he said. "As of yet, we don't know what's on board, but whatever it is, there are a lot of them."

Twelve Magitek engines. So it was to be a full scale invasion.

"Cannons?" Clarus asked.

"Six of them, sir."

Regis' face felt cold. Blackness threatened the edges of his vision, as if in anticipation of what was to come. Six siege cannons when he had struggled against only one. Clarus turned to him, perhaps hoping for confirmation that he could hold the Wall against such a force, yet Regis had no assurance to give. Never had he been so keenly aware of his sleep deprivation as now, when it mattered most.

"Ulric," Regis said. "Prepare to deploy the Kingsglaive. The cannons are your primary target. The more of them you destroy, the longer Insomnia will hold out as a safe haven for your people to retreat to."

"They won't make it easy on us, Your Majesty," Ulric said.

"I daresay they won't," Regis agreed. "Nevertheless, we must try or all will be lost. General Lexentale, the army will aid the Glaive in this endeavor. The Kingsglaive takes point: you may debate strategy but Captain Ulric's word is final."

"Of course, Sire."

"Perhaps we should depart?" Clarus suggested.

"I shall need to know what direction they approach from: if they seek to focus all power to one spot, our strategy will differ from a more diffuse attack," Regis said.

"I will see to it that information is delivered to you as soon as we have it," Clarus said.

The only thing that kept him from taking Regis' arm and leading him away like an unruly child was the fact that they were standing before Regis' subjects. On that point alone, Regis might have resisted. But if they struck with six cannons while he still stood before his councilors he would have greater problems than appearing an unruly child.

"Come, Clarus." Regis turned on his heel and headed for the door. "Captain Ulric: with all due haste."

They walked in silence through busy halls. As word of the pending invasion spread, the Citadel grew more lively. By the time the first shots were fired it would be full chaos, but Regis intended to be well away from view by that time.

"Can you hold them off?" Clarus asked in an undertone.

"For a time," Regis said with confidence he did not feel. That time might be less than a minute if all six struck simultaneously.

When they reached the lift to the royal levels, Clarus hesitated outside.

"Go," Regis said. "See to affairs in my absence. I daresay I will not be able to for long."

"I'll send Weskham to you," he said.

It would matter very little who he sent, if the Magitek cannons were not dealt with in sufficient time. Nevertheless, he sensed this was a compromise Clarus required for his own well-being. He accepted it.

He rode the lift to the top floor of the Citadel, which was quiet and empty. Noctis and Reina were out and about their daily activities, whatever that might have entailed. Let them enjoy the day as much as they could before Niflheim struck. For a moment he stood in the deserted lounge and imagined their distress and fear as the first shots were fired. The last time Niflheim had attacked the city directly, it had been a nightmare for them. Though, he reflected, perhaps his own weakness had scared them more than the cannons.

Grim thoughts of frightened children would get him nowhere. They were older now, all but capable of taking care of themselves. They would be fine. If he could hold the Wall.

If he could hold the Wall.

He withdrew to his chambers. From the window, he could see the distant shape of Magitek Engines growing nearer to the city. He was standing there, still watching, when someone knocked on his door. Weskham entered when bidden and came to stand beside him.

"Clarus fears you won't hold out long against their full force," Weskham said.

For some reason that rankled him. It was the truth and they all knew it, but having it spoken to him as if he needed to be told where his limits were, struck a cord. This was Insomnia and he was its protector. Not for the sake of the Crystal or the will of the Astrals, but because it was his home and his kingdom. His children lived here. He would protect them with every ounce of strength that remained to him.

"Then he had best see to it that their full force does not come against me, for I intend to hold as long as is necessary."

"Good intention will only get you part way to success."

"And if my strength does not carry me the rest of the way, determination and will shall." He rounded on Weskham. "If you have been listening to Clarus' tales of how weak and infirm I have become, then you have been wasting your time. I have more strength than ever."

"And you haven't slept in days."

That, at least, was true. An uncomfortable truth, to be certain. He turned away from Weskham. "I will hold."

"It isn't weakness to admit you're human, Regis. You have some time left. Rest now, while you have the chance."

He had grown more bold in Altissia. Perhaps it wasn't a negative development, but in the moment Regis struggled to see it as anything else. Ten years ago he would never have spoken so candidly. That had been left to Clarus.

"I will rest when my kingdom is safe. You may go."

Beside him, Weskham stiffened but did not move. "Regis—"

"I do not require a nursemaid at this time. If I have need of you, I will call. Leave me."

Weskham did not attempt to press his luck further. He took the second dismissal as it came and withdrew from Regis' rooms, leaving him to watch the steady approach of the Magitek Engines alone. In time they grew near enough to count their numbers individually and not long after that, blue streaks of Regis' own magic lit their ranks.

He clenched his fists at his sides. He should have been out there with them. The Glaives possessed his magic and were well trained in it, but they could only ever reach a shadow of his power. If only he could have released the Wall and joined them. Unleashed the true strength of Lucis upon his enemies.

But no. His place was here. Protecting the kingdom and his family. Providing safe harbor for those men and women who braved the fight.

The battle was neither quick nor clean. The imperials dropped ship loads of Magitek soldiers and armors to fight Lucis' Glaives and army. The invading force was in the cannons. All the rest were simply to fight off what Lucis threw at them. And it was working.

Eventually Avun arrived to deliver a lunch tray. Regis had no appetite for it, but, as no one tried to stand around telling him he should eat it, he did so. Whatever he said to Weskham, he needed his strength. But he could not even begin to think of resting at a time like this. He ate as much as he could convince himself to and fell to pacing the length of his private lounge, watching explosive bursts of his own magic crash against the Magitek Engines outside.

Another knock came to the door. Avun, in all likelihood, come to collect his dishes.

"Enter."

The door opened, then shut again. Behind him, soft footsteps—ill fitting his attendant—sounded on the marble floor. He turned. Crea stood in the entryway of the lounge. He stopped pacing.

"My children?" He asked.

"Worried, but holding up," she said. "Noctis is with Gladiolus and Ignis. Reina is with her retinue at the center of a knot of courtiers. I think she's as nervous as they are, but she's playing the stoic princess well and lending courage to them."

She would do well in the kingdom—a breath of calm in the chaos of changing times.

If they survived this attack.

"And you?" Regis asked.

Crea gave a laugh with more of fear than mirth behind it. "I'm shaking in my shoes. Look—" She held out her hands flat and palm down. They shook until she clenched them tight.

Regis crossed the room to her and gathered her up in his arms. No Crownsguard here to see them. No servants to whisper rumors in the halls. Just the plain fact that they were known to be alone in his rooms.

Did it matter, if they died here today?

"We shall be alright," he said, as much to himself as to her.

She curled into his chest. A tremor ran through her body and it was all he could do to drag his hands over her arms as if to warm her. But it wasn't the chill air that made her shake.

"Can I sit with you for a while?" She asked.

"I fear I won't be much comfort once they reach the Wall."

"I know." She pulled away from him enough to look into his eyes. He read the truth there on her face: it was him she feared for more than herself. He could think of nothing to say to that, so he merely held her tighter.

They stood that way for a time before Regis guided her to the sofa and sat down beside her. She leaned against his chest and followed his gaze out the window where the battle raged on, closer now. It was only a matter of time. But if he had to await his doom, at least he could do so with Crea in his arms.