When Regis had his bearings again, he found he stood in a circle of his companions, each with their back to him and weapons drawn. Ardyn remained at his side, hand on his shoulder.
"This is no time to lose your nerve," Ardyn said.
"Betrayers and usurpers. Bringers of Darkness. Thou hast summoned thee to end thy pathetic existence."
"Hardly," said Ardyn.
"Look around you, Draconian." Regis took a step forward and his circle of retainers split for him. "You have already lost this fight. Powerful though the light may be, it cannot prevail against the other six elements."
"Thou hast only five."
"No," Regis said. "Six: The fire and ice…"
Ifrit crouched just outside the arena, sword in hand. Half a dozen human-sized Glacians dotted his arms and shoulders.
"…The sky…"
Ramuh hovered above, outlined by the black storm clouds that surrounded Angelgard.
"…The sea…"
Leviathan rose up from the tumultuous waters surrounding the island.
"…The earth…"
Titan stood amongst the stone fingers of Angelgard.
"…And the darkness…"
Ardyn swept off his hat and bowed.
"You are outnumbered," Regis said. "If you continue on this path, you will be out-maneuvered. Turn aside now and join your fellows. Either way, you will leave Eos. And your leaving will spell the end of the Starscourge."
Bahamut's face, hidden behind a metal mask, was impassive. Unreadable. But his too-human eyes swept the space, taking in his kin and the mortals below.
"Fools," said Bahamut. "If thou wouldst stand against the light, then thou shalt fall amongst the mortals."
He drew his blade and sliced the air over their heads.
"Let the light burst and singe away the impurities of this land."
The next swing fell in their midst. Regis' retinue scattered, splitting in two to avoid the blade, which slammed into the earth and embedded momentarily in the stone.
"You will never change the Draconian's mind," Ardyn said.
"I suppose not," Regis said. "But posterity demanded that I try. Astrals! To me! Cut the final tie of the Starscourge. Banish the evil you have set free on this world, once and for all."
The sea rose. The earth shook. The heavens rained down. And a blizzard blew in, impossibly laced with fire and ice.
Ardyn gave a mock salute and rose up in the air, a series of crimson blades circling him. Yet even as Regis stared at them, they seemed to blink between red and blue, sometimes overlapping into violet. Ardyn's face itself seemed both alike and unlike him—sometimes the face of the face of the man he had come to know as Ardyn Lucis Caelum and sometimes a similar, prideful face with short black hair.
Today we finish this, brother, Somnus whispered.
Regis tore his eyes from the pair and dodged around Bahamut's blade as it lifted once more. His retinue had regrouped on one side of the arena in a defensive formation.
"Fall back," Regis said. "The Five will endeavor to harm none save the Draconian, but the elements are notoriously unpredictable."
They obeyed, grateful to be further removed from the fray and sheltered against the stone, out of the central seat of conflict.
"Will they end him for us?" Clarus asked.
"I have no notion," Regis said. "The Draconian is foremost among the Astrals for a reason, but I have little concept of how much more powerful he is."
"He is certainly the more capable combatant," Weskham noted.
They followed his eyes to the conflict of gods. Bahamut wielded his blade with skill unparalleled. The others were raw primal forces and Ifrit alone possessed a weapon of his own, but the Draconian was a god of blade and war. Could the forces of Eos ever truly slay such a thing?
"Best that we keep well out of way until such a time as the outcome is made clear," Regis said. "I will shelter us. We can only hope that, should the Five fail to bring him down, he will be well weakened on the other side."
Elsewise they had no chance of defeating this foe.
For a time it seemed a close conflict. The Five worked well together, and though Ardyn and Somnus worked to their own agenda, they avoided the cracks of lightning, bursts of flame and ice, spikes of stone, and even the grasp of the sea itself.
But though the Draconian stood alone against the flood, he worked every ounce of his skill and power against his foes. Methodically. While he weathered the others, he faced Ifrit. The infernian's swordsmanship was nothing to the Draconian's. Though he blocked and parried, Bahamut's powerful swings sent him on the defensive, retreating, and ultimately forced him to his knees. With one swift strike, the Draconian's blade cut diagonally through Ifrit from neck to rib cage. Flames burst across the island. The bond to the Infernian inside Regis snapped and dissolved.
The Glacian screamed.
Bahamut was forced to turn his full attention on her, at the expense of exposing his back to the others. All six of Shiva's forms swirled around him, building a furious blizzard, and still her scream of rage and mourning echoed in the air. In the very fibers of Eos. Her miniature forms provided too-small targets for Bahamut's blade. He twisted, shrugging off the ice that settled on his armor, and flexed so that bladed wings sprung up from his back. The blades, released as if from some spring-loaded contraption, cut through four of Shiva's forms, leaving nothing but a smattering of ice crystals behind, and grazed a fifth. The fifth fell while the sixth hung momentarily in the air—stunned by pain or shock. The moment of hesitation was all he required. The Bladekeeper's blade sliced through Shiva's sixth form and neatly bisected the fifth form on the ground.
Regis' link to Shiva shattered.
Throughout, he had all but ignored the car-sized boulders that crashed against him and dented his armor, the lightning that struck his blade and crackled through his form before dissipating, and the waves that washed over the entire island—staggering him, but never bringing him to his knees.
Now he turned his attention to the sky. He swung his blade out, pointing it at Ramuh; the storm struck him like a lightning rod, but not before a hail of blades fell from the sky, catching the Fulgarian—some through his robes and others directly through his body, dragging him toward the earth. Ramuh fell with the rain of blades. Though he lifted his staff to ward them off, summoned his power to strike them away, the rain was too heavy. A blade cut through his staff; its shattered remains dropped to the ground even as Ramuh was pinned to Angelgard by a dozen blades.
The Draconian's sword came down. The Fulgarian's head rolled.
One more link broke inside Regis.
"They're not combatants," Cor growled near Regis' ear.
"No," Regis agreed. "They trust to their power. But when matched—or outmatched—in strength, the truth shows through. They are but forces of nature."
"Then we had better be ready to face him," Cor said. "If five couldn't bring him down, two stand no chance."
He was right. Though Bahamut's armor was dented, blackened, drenched, and even cracked in places, he still showed no sign of tiring. He leveled his blade at Titan: a threat. In response, Titan tore a finger of rock from the island and hurled it at him. The Draconian lifted his blade and braced: the stone shattered across him, staggering him. But as the dust settled, he stood still. He leapt, launching himself into the air and extending bladed wings to carry him above Titan. In a spinning fury, he descended upon the Archaean. One blade became many. They slashed across stone, cutting and cracking and leaving grooves in their wake. Though a wave crashed over him, he seemed never to tire, never to dizzy in his endless spin.
Where the other Astrals had fallen to a single blow of Bahamut's blade, Titan withstood hundreds. But hundreds more Bahamut had to give. Under the onslaught, Titan's stony skin turned to dust. An arm cracked and crumbled to the ground. The Archaean tore another stone free from the island and smashed it atop Bahamut, momentarily halting his blades and crushing him into the earth.
It wasn't enough.
The stone split from below and Bahamut shot upward. When he dropped, it was with his full might behind his blade, a pinpoint strike that cracked Titan's skull. With a bellowing roar, the Archaean crumbled to clay.
And Titan's bond was cut.
Only one Astral remained, and though Bahamut stood a moment, dust settling around him, to catch his breath, there was little doubt that he could dispatch the Hydraean as easily as he had the others. Even now he lifted his head and set his murderous gaze upon the last of his kin. And Leviathan gave a roar, which might have been fury or desperation.
She lunged for him. Much to Regis' surprise, she caught him. Serpentine jaws closed around his battered armor and jerked him forward toward the sea. It was too late by the time Regis realized he had allowed her to catch him. The Draconian lifted his blade, giving no struggle even as he was dragged to the water's edge, and drove the tip down through the Hydraean's head. She screamed, releasing him. Much too late. He thrust it through her skull, through her gaping maw, and out the underside of her jaw.
Leviathan jerked back. Though her jews were pinned together, she still managed an unearthly shriek as she thrashed, sending up waves. A dying beast.
Bahamut made a sharp motion with his arm and, in a burst of power, his blade exploded.
It took Leviathan's skull with it. Her body fell, limp, into the dark sea. And the last bond was cut.
"I hope you are prepared for a fight, my friends." Regis reached for the Armiger. His six spectral blades burst into existence around him, casting an eerie light on his retinue.
"We would never have come if we weren't." Clarus balanced his blade and set his stance.
Weskham checked his ammunition and cocked his firearm. "Indeed, Your Majesty."
"Do we have a plan of attack?" Cor drew a finger over his blade, checking the edge.
Cid tapped the butt of his lance on the ground. "How about I hop on up there and bring him down for you ladies?"
"You, Sir, are an insult to ladies everywhere," Clarus said.
"That's not what yer mama said."
"Oh for the—" Clarus lifted his blade. "New plan: kill the mechanic. Ardyn can handle Bahamut."
Indeed, Ardyn was doing a fair job on his own. Or, more accurately, with the aid of his brother. The pair had kept well out of the way of spinning blades and flying boulders, but that did not mean the streaks of a dual crimson-and-blue armiger had not lit the whole battle to this point. By Regis' reckoning, they had landed more than one good hit.
"I always hoped my death would be preceded by 'your mama' jokes," Weskham said.
Ardyn glanced down at them even as he dropped in the air to avoid Bahamut's blade. It was a peculiar sight to behold: though Ardyn's face turned down, Somnus'—overlaid with his—remained focused on Bahamut.
"Much as I appreciate the staring role in this tale, I did not bring you along so you could stand around throwing abuse at each other!" Ardyn called down to them.
"Apologies, Uncle." Regis grasped hold of his own Armiger and channeled the power to lift himself off the ground. "In the future, I shall instruct them to include you in the onslaught of abuse."
"Well you best do so quickly," Ardyn said. "I shall have very little future left, one way or the other."
A fair point.
"Weskham—aim for weak points in his armor where the Astrals broke through. Cid, strike from above and keep high. Cor and Clarus—work from the bottom; if you can bring him to his knees, all the better."
The last time they had all fought side by side, any instruction for Clarus and Cor to work together would inevitably have been met with glares and ended in tragedy. Today they took up the call to arms with neither hesitation nor reluctance.
Regis rose up into the air and drew level with Ardyn and Somnus, who hung just near enough to draw Bahamut's attention and just far enough to pull out of reach when he swung.
"Plans?" Regis asked.
"Of course not. I have no idea what the hell I'm doing," Ardyn said.
"Fitting," said Regis.
"We must move strategically," Somnus' voice was not a true sound, but the echoing of words long past in Regis' mind. "Keep your retinue well away from his wings. His armor is strong but not impenetrable. Let us use the opening the Astrals have provided to the fullest."
After watching the Draconian slaughter Shiva with his wings, his retinue scarcely needed the warning. But Regis repeated it nevertheless. As Somnus had said, Bahamut's armor was cracked and broken in places—largely due to Titan's efforts. The bottom corner of his mask has cracked away, revealing a vague approximation of a human face underneath. Regis would have preferred never knowing what was hidden by the Draconian's mask.
"There," Regis said. "Where his neck and shoulder meet. A blade could fit in that gap."
"Well you aim for that. I'm going to see if I can fit a sword in his mouth, if it's all the same to you," Ardyn said.
Somnus, spectral form overlaid with Ardyn's, gave Regis a long suffering look.
"Don't you roll your eyes at me."
Regis shot them both a grin and signaled Clarus below. Then he dove nearer to Bahamut, making certain that he was in plain view of the Draconian. Better that attention be focused on him. He had the maneuverability to avoid Bahamut's blows. He hoped.
No sooner was he within reach than his theory was put to the test. He had scant time to pay attention to the doings of his retinue as he dove and spun midair, avoiding the slice of Bahamut's massive blade. One graze from that would splatter him like a fly. And they were little more than that to the Draconian.
Around him, the blue-and-crimson Armiger of Ardyn and Somnus flew. One blade grazed across his unguarded face, causing the Draconian to shift his attention with a grunt of annoyance. It was not blood that poured out of Bahamut's split skin. It was light. Not unlike the white-violet light that poured from the crystal when it was activated. While that made his face a glowing target, the sheer brightness of it obscured all in the immediate vicinity of his cracked chin. Aiming past it was like attacking the sun.
Nevertheless, aim they did. Bullets ricocheted, Blades struck sparks on his armor, and in an impossible leap, Cid landed on Bahamut's shoulder and drove his lance into the crack in his armor.
Bahamut roared. Once more, bladed wings sprung from his back and narrowly missed Cid. The old mechanic was not to be deterred. He drove the lance deeper, forcing his weight behind it until the blade sank fully into Bahamut's shoulder. A massive armored hand reached for him.
"Cid—!" Regis threw his blades at Bahamut's shining face.
Cid leapt. Bahamut's fingers closed, but he rocketed out from in between like a squeezed bar of soap. His landing on the ground was less graceful. He impacted, rolled, and stumbled to his feet, favoring one leg. With a motion, he summoned his lance from Bahamut's shoulder and used it as a crutch.
"'Fraid that's the last leap from me, Yer Majesty," he called.
"You've done exceptional work, Cid. Now keep out of range and let us do the rest," Regis said. Even now, light welled from Bahamut's shoulder and poured out of the crack in his armor.
Cid gave a mock salute and hobbled backward into the circle of rusted blades.
"Enough." Bahamut's voice was a bellow that shook the air. "Let us dispense with the games."
He turned his eyes downward, fixing on Clarus and Cor near his feet. In a desperate bid to regain his attention, Regis thrust out his Armiger, aiming for Bahamut's face, his shoulder, or any other weak point in his armor he could see. More than one blade found its mark. But Bahamut shrugged them off like flies on a chocobo.
His sword swung, cleaving the ground between Clarus and Cor. Far from being discouraged, the pair took the brief opportunity to strike. Clarus' blade found a weak point in Bahamut's arm and light poured out. Cor struck his calf and a fourth sunburst lit the island. Their victory was short-lived. Injured though he may have been, the Draconian had no issue kicking out at Cor—a blow which sent him tumbling across the ground to land near the edge of the arena. Motionless. Bahamut released his blade, rather than wrenching it from the stone, and struck Clarus in a backhand. The motion launched him perilously close to the hundreds of blades protruding from the ground around them.
Though though two sets of Armiger blades were flung upon him, though they struck many more blows and sent cracks of light shattering across the Draconian's armor, Bahamut disregarded them and turned his eyes toward Weskham. Wes, undeterred, raised his firearm and fired at Bahamut's face. The bullet hit him dead in the mouth. For the first time, the Draconian hesitated, gagging on the bullet. Light poured from his mouth, but he straightened and spat the bullet out at Weskham. It flew true, as if shot from a second weapon, and struck Weskham in the arm. Wes cried out and dropped his gun, clutching his upper arm and struggling not to drop to his knees.
"Fall back, Wes! See to the others. We will finish this," Regis called.
"And still thou standest, defiant," Bahamut said. Though it seemed to Regis that his voice was weakened. He almost seemed to struggle for breath—and indeed, light poured out of every crack in his armor now, and spilled out from his mouth when he spoke. "Then let the cleanse begin with thee."
Bahamut slammed his sword point-first into the ground and brought his hands together. The light that poured out of him grew impossibly brighter, until it enveloped him entirely and he was nothing but a burning sun in the center of Angelgard.
Regis touched down on the ground near Cor. "To me!"
Nearly before they were told, Cid and Weskham were already hauling Clarus toward him. Regis wove a shell of magic—a Wall even stronger than that he had held back Niflheim with—and solidified his magic as they passed within range. But still their numbers were down one.
"Ardyn!"
He hung still in the air at the center of a flurry of blades. Though Bahamut was now entirely obscured by light, Ardyn and Somnus struck out—wild and uncontrolled.
"You can't chase away the dark with brighter lights, Bladekeeper." Ardyn laughed. "The stronger the light, the deeper the shadows!"
"Ardyn! Somnus! Get down here!" Regis roared. He could not keep the barrier open for much longer. Already the blinding light was growing painfully hot.
Ardyn never turned his mad gaze from his prey. But overlaid with him, a blue spectral face glanced down toward Regis.
"Save them," he murmured, a voice just for Regis' ears. "Be the king I should have been."
And as Somnus turned his eyes back toward Bahamut, blue glaives joined the crimson once more. And Regis solidified his barrier.
Light burst across the outside of it. Though his Wall sheltered them from Bahamut's indiscriminate cleansing, it was still too bright to see through. Too bright to keep his eyes open—and even then he could see the light through his eyelids.
He had held back Magitek engines and daemons. He had held back the empire and the darkness. But never before had he been forced to hold back the full might of a god. Distantly, he felt his knees hit the hard stone ground, but he had focus only for his barrier. It cracked and strained under the onslaught of light as Regis poured all he had and more into it.
The whole world faded away until it was him kneeling alone—as in the In Between—holding a shield against the light. It baked his skin, even through his barrier, like the sun on a too-hot day. It would do worse if he faltered, yet he could not hold forever.
Slowly, he became aware of cool darkness spreading over his face, as if someone had pulled a shade between him and the sun. He opened his eyes to the In Between. Two hands rested on his shoulders.
"I want to help save Noctis' life too, Father." Reina laid her hand over his and the strain on his shield seemed to lessen.
"I can save my own life, thanks." Noctis glared at her even as he did the same. And they were three upholding a Wall. Once more.
He had never been more grateful for them.
All at once the physical world came back to him. Though he knelt once more on Angelgard, the sole Caelum beneath the barrier that held back the light, he could feel their presence as if they both still stood beside him.
Within the barrier, his retinue crowded around him. Blood had soaked Weskham's sleeve and now dripped from his fingers. Cid sat with one leg extended, his foot twisted at an unnatural angle. Cor clutched at his ribs and took shallow breaths as he knelt beside an unconscious Clarus, attempting to stanch the flow of blood from a gash on the side of his head.
Would that he had even an ounce of strength to lend to their healing. But he needed all of his and more simply to maintain the barrier.
Outside, though the light of Bahamut shone too brightly to see anything, he slowly became aware of a low and building sound. A growl or a growing cry, perhaps. Shadows began to flicker in the light. Near the ground at first, throwing blessedly dark lines across Regis' shield. He squinted to see the source, but it was another minute before darkness won enough ground against light to resolve anything at all outside the shell of his magic. Through the now-flickering light, he could just make out Bahamut's armored feet—then legs—too black against the bright light. He seemed silhouetted, without depth or texture. Flat blackness.
It was another moment before Regis' eyes registered that this was not a mere trick of the light.
The sound was clearer now. Now a growl. A scream. An endless sound of fury and agony and hatred. And underneath it came bubbling up cold and rolling laughter.
The darkness spread, creeping up Bahamut's body as the Starscourge consumed the light. The Draconian's brightness was reduced enough to see now all of Angelgard—scorched, leveled, with even the grey stone bleached white and turned to dust. The rusted remains of the swords were gone. Cleansed. The torches had toppled, the banners had vaporized, and all color seemed gone from the world.
And yet, in the midst of it all, impossibly, stood a man. Two men—overlaid atop one another. One who stood, feet-braced and hands held in front of him to uphold a shining blue barrier. Another in the carefree posture of a madman—arms outstretched, head thrown back, and laughter pouring out. His physical form was scorched by the light—bleached and worn away nearly to dust. And still he laughed as the Starscourge crept up Bahamut's armor and swallowed him whole.
The scream—unmistakable as it now was—issued, gurgling, from Bahamut's throat.
"Thou shalt all fall—IN DARKNESS—" His final words, a choking screech before the black ichor poured down his glowing mouth and choked him.
Bahamut fell to his knees, clutching at his throat. The flat black shape of a fallen god amidst an isle of white sand, and moved no more. Inch by inch, he began to sublimate, like the fallen bodies of daemons in the sunlight. Regis released his barrier. They stood on the only piece of grey stone remaining on Angelgard. All around their tiny circle was the white, lifeless sand of land purged by the Draconian.
Somnus' shield fell. He dropped to his knees, a pale spectral light barely visible in the white sand. Ardyn's laughter faded away to a wheeze, leaving the world eerily silent until he coughed—a terrible, wrenching sound, as if the Starscourge had finally won out in his lungs.
Or as if it had been scorched away, leaving his body without the only thing that had sustained it for two thousand years.
He took a shaky step on one foot and fell to his knees, not one step away from his brother's fading form. From the ground, he gave Regis a wan smile. For a moment Regis perceived him as he could have been. Ardyn the King. Ardyn the Healer.
"Not my brother's useless spawn after all, Nephew." His voice came out a breathy wheeze. His eyes drifted over Regis' companions. Somehow, Regis was the only one among them without a mark—if he had been struck in the fight, he had yet to notice it.
"We fared a little better than the Astrals," Ardyn said. "Let's not let them have the last laugh. Somnus. Get off your lazy ass and help me one last time, before I die. You're already dead. What's your excuse?"
Somnus made a sound that might have been a laugh and dragged himself closer to Ardyn. Once more their shapes seemed to join—two men overlaid in one. Together, they lurched to their feet and crossed the distance to Regis on unsteady legs.
"Ardyn—" Regis hauled himself to his feet, but had only taken one step before Ardyn waved a dismissive hand at him.
He hobbled the rest of the way to the solid stone circle on which Regis and the others stood. There he dropped to his knees again and laid his hands on Cid's broken leg. Blue-white light welled from beneath his hands. With a disconcerting crunch, Cid's leg twisted back into alignment.
Cid winced.
Ardyn laughed. The weak, breathy laugh of a dying man. "I haven't been able to do that since I turned."
Ardyn dragged himself over to Weskham, grasping his elbow and causing pure Caelum magic to swell around Weskham's bicep. When it faded, he pulled himself closer to Cor and Clarus, laying one hand on Clarus' head and the other on Cor's chest. Skin knit. Bones mended. And Clarus jerked upright, running one hand over the back of his head.
With that final burst of magic, Ardyn collapsed. Regis dropped to his knees beside him, rolling him face up on the stone and grasping his shoulders.
"Ardyn—"
He was breathing still. One eye opened by a sliver and a weak smile stretched across his face. "You kept your word."
"More surprisingly, you kept yours," Regis said.
He laughed until it turned into a cough and he curled in on himself. "Go on now and leave me to die. Be the king I couldn't be. And for goodness sake, keep that child from speaking with creepy old men. She's going to start a mess someday."
As if she hadn't already.
"I'll do my best," Regis said. "Goodbye, Ardyn."
A stupid, peaceful smile settled onto his face. He exhaled slowly and let his eyes drift shut as if settling into a hot bath.
He did not inhale again.
"Rest in peace, Ardyn Lucis Caelum. The first King of Lucis. You were the best of us. And the worst of us."