"Nil, easy," Aloy gasped as his tall, muscled body crumpled on top of her. "Easy, easy. You just need medicine. Here, I have extracts-"

"No use," Nil choked, gently falling to the ground, and Aloy helped him down until he was lying on his back, cradled in her arms. "Bastard got me in the stomach, nothing I eat will get to my system."

"No," Aloy breathed, chilled to her core. "Just - just hold on, okay? I'll get help. If we can bring you back to ELEUTHIA, she'll put you back together-"

"I won't last that long," he rasped. "You know that, Aloy. She won't heal me until the battle's over, and even then, I can't be moved so far like this. It's…over."

"No," Aloy repeated in a whimper, her eyes and face the only part of her that was remotely warm, burning and hot, the rest of her colder than the Cut. She didn't even notice as her Focus activated on its own, surrounding her and Nil with a web of light that dampened the sound of anything outside their little bubble. "No, no," she repeated, more and more desperately the more it sank in, "no, no no no no no, no please! Please, no!"

"It's okay," he chuckled, though the laughter came out as a wet cough; more blood dribbled from his mouth. "It was a good fight…and a good day to die. Just don't…leave me? I have a promise to keep…and…I want to die…with my face to the Sun…even if I don't deserve it…"

"The Sun?" Aloy repeated. "I can get you out from under these trees, the sun's right-"

His hacking cough of a laugh cut her off. "Don't you get it?" he gurgled. "Aloy…you are the Sun."

"What?" Aloy whispered.

"I told you…gah!" He choked, convulsing in pain and spraying more blood from between his lips. "…I'd tell you who you are if you gave me a good death," he managed at last. "This counts, because I…got to die in battle…fighting by your side-" He choked off again, heaving. "…so, I'll tell you. Aloy, my love…you are the Sun. You are pure radiance, a merciless and all-powerful light. You bring light and warmth to the good, and you torment and destroy the bad, the darkness, you burn and you give aid in equal measure. Your mother was a gentle, healing light, but you are a warrior of light, strong and merciless yet also kind and true. You are the Sun, Aloy."

"I…" Aloy swallowed hard. "I thought the Sun was inherently male."

He choked on another laugh, harsher, wetter, more filled with mirth. "Whoever came up with that dumb idea…never knew radiance like yours," he wheezed, grinning through his bloodied teeth. "I once served a man…who thought himself the Sun incarnate. He wasn't even a candle next to you. Your light is all-encompassing and all-consuming, it guides and heals those born of light and burns and destroys the darkness…like me. I knew I'd die of being with you, shadow that I am."

"You're not just a shadow!" Aloy exclaimed. "If you're a shadow, then you're my shadow! What's a sun without shadows?"

"There are no shadows…under the noonday sun," he panted.

"There are if you're standing under a tree," Aloy countered.

Another laugh that sounded far more painful than it was worth rattled from his chest, and Aloy reached into her medicine pouch, only to realize that the only thing that could have saved Nil had already been used up. Dawn's omen mushrooms might have been able to repair his stomach if he ate them, and then he could eat more medicine to heal the rest of his body, but…she'd used the dawn's omen they'd had on herself.

Choking on tears, hating herself for using the medicine and desperate for an alternative, refusing to give up, Aloy pulled out some dried old gray omen mushrooms, biting into them and chewing quickly, trying to work up a paste.

"Don't waste your medicine on me," Nil rasped. "It's okay. I knew, the day I watched you climb that Tallneck, you were going to be the death of me. Even if you never accepted my challenge…somehow, I guess I just knew." One hand came up to clumsily cup her cheek, fingers slick with blood brushing her braids. "But I didn't know I'd love you so much," he whispered.

Eyes burning, Aloy spat out the mush in her mouth onto her palm, then pressed it to his wound. "Nil," she whimpered. As his breath came just a bit easier, but not easier enough, his blood still pouring over her fingers, she realized she couldn't lie to herself anymore. "I tried so hard," she sobbed. "So hard not to care for you. I told myself that I mustn't love you, that I couldn't love you…but I do." It was impossible to hold back the hot liquid pouring from her eyes as she finally let herself admit it. "I love you, Nil."

"Don't say that," he croaked. "I told you…I have no business with being loved." He coughed again, and Aloy was already chewing more mushrooms, all the last of what she had, futile though she knew it was. "I don't need or expect anyone to love me."

"Do you want them to?" Aloy asked as she spat out her second poultice and brought it to the opening in his back, pressing the paste into the gushing wound. Before he could answer, she shook her head so hard her braids whipped her face. "No, don't answer that," she told him. "Don't answer that, because I don't care. I don't care what you need, or expect, or want, none of that changes how I feel about you! I love you, Nil." Clear saltwater dripped from her face onto his, mixing with the splatters of blood on his cheeks. "I love you," she repeated. "I love you. Please…please don't go…"

"You love me?" he asked, and something ignited in his silver irises.

"Yes," she gasped. "Yes, I love you."

A frown twisted his crimson-soaked lips, and he turned his head, as though looking for something. "My bow," he muttered. "Where's…my bow…?" He began reaching for a fallen bow that Aloy recognized, which must have slipped from his wrist when he was stabbed and was now out of his reach.

"I've got it," Aloy told him quickly, drawing her spear and reaching out with the point, not willing to stop holding him. She managed to hook the tip of her blade through the bowstring and drag it into her range, and she put her spear away and picked up the weapon, handing it to Nil, wondering why he needed it. Was there perhaps some special soldier-issue medicine attached for emergencies? Or had he maybe kept a single cap of dawn's omen for himself, and tied it to his prized possession for safekeeping? One cap might be enough to keep him alive long enough for ELEUTHIA to save him…

Nil grasped his weapon fondly. "The Voice of Our Teeth," he whispered, grinning. "I had hoped to be buried with it, but…" Turning his silver gaze to Aloy, he pressed it against her chest. "Take it," he told her.

"Take it?" Aloy repeated, placing her hand next to his on the handle. "And do what?"

"Keep it," he croaked. "A piece of me to carry with you, wherever you go. I know you can't wear it on your necklace, but…" He trailed off into another coughing fit.

"No," Aloy breathed, a fresh wave of ice freezing her blood as she realized that there was no secret remedy attached, that it was only a goodbye. "No, Nil, please, no, no, no! No, please!" she sobbed, throwing her arms around him and clutching him as though the force of her will alone could keep him alive. "Please, no! Please, don't leave me!"

"I will never leave you," he rasped.

"Huh?" Aloy sat up again, looking into his eyes.

"Wherever you cast your shadow, that's where I'll be…in life and in death," he told her, and his smile widened. "I know I'm not meant for the sky, the Sun will not welcome me into His warm embrace. But if my soul is doomed to wander the shadows of this Earth forever, then I will dwell within your shadow, always."

"No," Aloy moaned, shaking her head. "Please…not like this…"

"It's better this way," he whispered, raising a hand to caress her cheek again. "You're free now, my love. No wars will be waged over our union; you can go back east without fear. And this way, you don't have to kill me yourself."

"No!" Aloy exclaimed, shaking her head even as she lifted her free hand to press his closer to her skin. "It doesn't have to be this way, Nil!"

"What were you expecting?" he choke-chuckled. "Maybe a…grand Carja wedding, Sun-King Avad and your High Matriarchs blessing our union together, followed by a quiet life in some Nora village raising five children?"

A bitter laugh choked its way through Aloy's tears. "Of course not!" she answered.

"There is no happy future we could possibly have built together, Aloy," Nil said. "There never was."

"Nil…" Aloy shook her head again, pulling him closer. "Just because a normal, peaceful life was never our fate doesn't mean it has to end like this!"

"Did you have a better idea?" he wheezed.

Aloy thought of her idea, crazy and half-formed though it was, and nodded. "I was thinking…we could make our own tribe," she told him. "A tribe of tribeless people, like you and me, and Kryse and Ikrie and any others who want to join us. It - it wouldn't be a normal tribe, with a territory, we'd…" She shook her head again, taking a breath. "I was thinking about your idea, of getting a Focus for you from inside All-Mother Mountain. There are a lot of Focuses in there, and they're all intact, I could give them to anyone who wanted to join us, and - and anyone in the tribes who wanted to stay in contact with us, so we could deal with the tribes at any time. We would be everywhere, connected through a network, and - and there would be three different types of members. There would be Seekers, like me, who go out and find what's left of the Old Ones, and other tribes, and other people who might want to join us, and expand our knowledge and our network until we unite the world like APOLLO was supposed to; there would be Keepers, like Sylens, who would stay back and keep track of all the old memories we gather and coordinate everyone who joins us, and build a new APOLLO from what the Seekers find, and eventually share it with the tribes as they're ready to learn; and…and then there would be Executioners, like you."

Nil blinked in surprise, a bit of life returning to his eyes, and that inspired Aloy to continue.

"If there's one thing I've learned since the Proving, it's that there will always be people who need to die for the greater good," she told him. "Not like what Ted Faro said, not innocents, but the guilty - people like Helis, and Zaid, and Jiran, even groups like bandit clans and Far Zenith. The murderers, the monsters, the people who hurt the innocent, they need to be stopped, and a world can never be built without people like that; as long as humans exist, there will always be monsters who need to be killed to keep others safe, that's just…what humanity is. But for most people, killing comes at a cost. That's why the world needs people like you, Nil."

"You can kill them yourself," he pointed out.

"But I don't enjoy it," Aloy said. "All the blood I've shed haunts me, I see their faces sometimes in my nightmares, every life I've taken is a burden on my soul - I do it when it's the right thing to do, I don't even regret it, but I wish I didn't have to do it at all. But it's not like that for you. You enjoy it, killing makes you happy. People call your kind evil, but if there will always be people in this world who need to be killed for the greater good, and there will always be people in this world who live to kill, then that's - that's a problem and a solution that people try to ignore both sides of. Instead, the tribes execute their criminals like cowards, leave them to the judgment of the Sun or the ice or whatever - it's stupid, but they have to, because most people try to avoid killing. But if we could find people like you, and put them to the task, there wouldn't be any need for that." She took a breath, realizing that she wasn't explaining this very well, scrabbling to organize her thoughts. "If we just establish ourselves in the tribes, they could ask for our help with their criminals, to judge and punish them - an impartial jury, like what the Corsair use, remember? The Seekers would use their Focuses and coordinate to find evidence, gather statements from witnesses, uncover as much of the truth as possible, and then they and the Keepers would judge if the accused is guilty and, if they are, what sort of punishment they deserve. Some crimes aren't worth death, and some criminals can be rehabilitated, like you, but for the ones who can't…we'd give them to you, the Executioners, to kill however you like. You could give them a blade and fight them to the death, or torture them to death like Zaid would have, or just slaughter them, or - or whatever the local Executioner would want, so long as the guilty die and the innocent stay safe. You'd never run out of people to kill, and you…you'd have a place in this world, Nil, a respected place," she whispered, begging him to understand why he had to survive. "You wouldn't have to be tribeless or nameless anymore, you wouldn't be the New Terror of the Sun or the butcher of Cinnabar Sands or the Red Raider who destroyed Mother's Vigil - you'd be respected, you'd be needed, and everyone would know it, you'd play a vital role in society and the world and - and no one could scorn you for being a bloodthirsty lunatic. Everyone would understand, and…we could be together, without starting a war, because you and I would both be equally important. You see? We can…We can make a better world. A world where everyone has a place, including you, and no one could make us stay apart."

The dying hunter's bloody lips stretched, baring scarlet teeth in a lazy grin. "I see you…inherited your mother's ability to dream," he remarked. "All of that sounds…"

"I know it's-" Aloy began.

"…beautiful."

"Huh?" Aloy blinked.

"It sounds…beautiful," Nil said, caressing her cheek again. "And you can make it happen. You will. I know you will. If your mother can make GAIA, you can make this new tribe, the Apollites…" He coughed again, his whole body shuddering in Aloy's grip, and she knew it wouldn't be long, though she still pressed her poultice to his stomach desperately. "I only wish…I could live to see it," he managed at last.

"Then live!" Aloy cried. "Please, Nil, please live! Live, so you can be part of our new tribe! Live, so I…so I don't have to go on without you! I can't do it without you, Nil, I can't!"

"Yes you can," he told her. "Go, Aloy…Go get those Focuses, and start building the Apollites. For everyone like me, who would be scorned if they aren't given a place. And for everyone like you, who needs a place and can't find it in the primitive tribes of today. Please, my love, go east…and build this new APOLLO…"

"Not without you!" Aloy sobbed.

"You'll never…be without me," he whispered, his hand falling limply into her lap as he lost the strength to hold it up. "And with…or without me…you can do…anything. Go, my love. Go…build that tribe, and be happy…"

"I can't," Aloy choked. "I can't! How can I be happy without you?!"

"I think you know," he coughed, and his hand came up weakly to place his fingers against her stomach. "I think…we both know."

"What?" Aloy asked, not understanding.

"You haven't…taken an antidote…the last few times," he croaked. "And you're not…the type of girl…to neglect that sort of thing…"

Aloy gasped, her hand hooked through Nil's bow, sticky with blood and poultice, coming to her stomach where his rested, remembering what she'd thought of the previous night, that she hadn't bled since the festival…

"Go," Nil whispered. "My sister will help you." He choked on another chuckle. "She was never…much of a Carja, anyway. And don't forget to tell her…I'm not sorry. For any of it."

"Can I tell her you loved her?" Aloy whispered.

"She knows," Nil said. "And it would be…cruel to remind her."

"I think she'd want to hear it," Aloy said. "And your mother, too, when I give her that wooden flower you picked out for her. Please, Nil? Can I please tell them you loved them?"

"You compassionate types," Nil laughed wetly. "Fine. Tell them what you will…knowing it's true." His eyes were going hazy, but he still seemed to be able to concentrate on Aloy's face. "You'll be okay, my love," he wheezed. "You always are. I love you…"

"I love you, Nil," Aloy whimpered, pulling him close, their eyes locked together. "I love you, Aren. I love you, and only you, I'll never love again."

"Aloy…" he breathed. "I…love you…"

Slowly, his body relaxed, his breath just barely slipping from his bloody mouth. Aloy held him tight, watching the light fade from his beautiful silver eyes, knowing that this was the part he loved most about killing and hating it, hating that she couldn't do anything but watch.

Then, when only a hazy trace of life lingered, something strange came over him. For just a brief moment, as Aloy's entire world was concentrated around Nil's face, she thought she saw a momentary glimpse of…release. As though, in that final moment, he was completely at peace, falling gratefully into his eternal rest.

And then he was gone.

"No," Aloy groaned. "No, no, no…" Sobbing, rocking back and forth as she cradled her dead lover in her arms, she felt a chasm tear open in her chest, unspeakable agony pouring forth and smothering her, far worse than the anguish she'd suffered after discovering Far Zenith's plot. But she couldn't just break down, she had to do something. Something, anything, for him, for her love, for her Aren. She thought of the funeral rite he'd given her mother, and lifted her face to where the sun poked between the leaves of the trees overhead, staring directly into the burning rays, still blind to the web of light surrounding her that she hadn't called on.

There was only one funeral rite she knew by heart, and he deserved it.

"O great Sun," she intoned in a shaky voice, "make treaty with the Moon to give my fallen quiet rest. Furnish him with the armor of your brazen heat. Give him a shaft of sunlight for his spear, and illuminate the path to the sky for him. Hunter Aren Khane Nil - no," she said abruptly, shaking her head, knowing the name he really deserved, and she rephrased, enunciating each syllable slowly and clearly, with emphasis: "Hunter Aren Nil Khane Sobeck," she declared, daring the Sun to deny him her name. When it didn't, she softened again. "Let his memory and sacrifice be a beacon for all hunters…all shadows…to follow."

The incantation done, she turned her eyes from the blinding sun to look back down at her fallen mate. His silver eyes, now so empty, lay open, dead, and she couldn't bear the sight, reaching out a hand to press his eyelids closed as she waited for some sort of closure to soothe her, as Namman had said prayers and rituals could, some sense of peace or hope or…or something, for having laid him to rest properly.

None came. If anything, his death only pressed down harder on her with each passing moment.

When a whining reached her ears, she didn't recognize it as her own. As she gazed at the dead remains of the man she loved, she couldn't feel her voice vibrate in her throat until it came out as a full cry, and that was when she shattered, throwing her head back and screaming her anguish to the sky with all her strength, it felt as though her very soul was trying to claw its way out through her mouth in rejection of this life she'd been cursed with as she screeched with all her voice and all her breath, half-hoping Far Zenith could hear her wherever they dwelt above the clouds, that they might know what a wretched life they had forced her to be born into with their selfishness.

Then, when her breath was gone and there was nothing left of her voice, she collapsed on the blood-soaked figure of her dead partner, and for the fourth and final time in her life, broke down and cried.

Back on the plains, the Humanoids had faltered, and though they had already been losing, their uncertainty rendered them swiftly routed by the humans who had come to prove what being alive truly meant. As the last few fell, and the Deima finished off the infants who were born not knowing how to cry so that they would never suffer the fate of living death they'd been created for, a cheer rang out, as the battle for humanity ended. But for those who had been on the eastern border of the battlefield and heard the howl of agony torn from the throat of the huntress who had led them into this battle, there was no joy in the victory.

They had won, but she had lost.

~o~

Aloy didn't know how long she lay there, weeping and clutching Nil's dead body, her entire being wracked with misery the likes of which she'd never known. Even seeing Rost die hadn't been as devastating as this - there had always been a barrier between her and Rost, a barrier she regretted keeping up, though if this was how she would have felt after the Proving if she hadn't done so, maybe it was best she'd never let anyone else get this close. But with Nil…For all the barriers she'd tried to place between herself and her bloodthirsty partner - more, really, than she'd tried to place between herself and anyone else she'd ever met - he had torn down and bypassed them all, won his way into the deepest corners of her heart until there was no space at all between them, no separation. He had become part of her, her other half, her mate, her partner, her everything.

Now that he had died, part of her had died, too.

Even when her tears ran out, she couldn't stop crying, her body trapped in the motions of convulsing and sobbing even when she couldn't take anymore, her tearstained face numb from the effort and her muscles sore from clinging to all that was left of her beloved. When at last she managed to breathe again, the blood soaking her was cold.

"Why?" she choked. "It's not fair. Why does everyone I love have to die for me?"

"Everyone dies, Aloy, whether you love them or not."

The cold, contemptuous voice in her ear snapped Aloy out of her daze, and she lurched to her feet, fighting back a wave of dizziness. "Sylens?"

Her Focus activated on its own, and the image of the distant tinker was woven from light, his face entirely passive.

"How long have you been watching?" Aloy demanded.

"The entire time," Sylens admitted calmly. "Though I rather suspect saying anything before now would have accomplished very little. Are you done whining?"

"Whining?" Aloy repeated incredulously. "Sylens, the man I love is dead! No, I am not done whining! I don't think I'll ever be done whining!"

Sylens huffed a long-suffering sigh. "Aloy, the Old Ones had a saying," he told her: "'It is better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.' Which reality would you prefer, the one in which he died for you, or the one in which you never took this journey and grew to love him in the first place? The only way he could still be alive right now is if you never brought him to the Forbidden West; he would have continued fighting meaningless battles until ultimately dying a meaningless death, and you would never have loved him, nor he you. Would you rather that be your life? Do you regret what you shared with him?"

"That's not fair!" Aloy shouted at the dubiously-Banuk. "Of course I don't regret loving him, I don't regret a moment I spent with him, but that doesn't make this hurt less!" Remembering something he'd once said, she added, "A situation isn't made less painful by the alternative being worse."

"Regardless, no amount of wailing will bring him back," Sylens stated, "and you have important responsibilities to attend to. If the battle for humanity's future is done, go say your final piece to ELEUTHIA - I've already prepared a means of bringing it back to GAIA Prime, and will do so in time - and then return to the east. Your adventures in the Forbidden West are over and done, the world won't wait for you. I might be persuaded to help you build this tribe you described to Aren as he died, it's certainly an interesting prospect…audacious, but plausible, and highly advantageous if successful. But it won't happen if you stay away from where you belong."

"I don't belong anywhere," Aloy said softly, looking down at Nil's remains. "The only places I've ever belonged are dead now. I don't care anymore."

"Yes you do," Sylens said. "I know you well enough to be confident of that."

She glared at him. "You know nothing," she hissed.

"You'd be surprised," he smirked. "Aren was right, you know."

"About what?" Aloy asked, thrown for a moment.

"I've been doing some research regarding the names of GAIA and her sub-functions," Sylens said, "thanks in part to the connection you established with the Focus of the Corsair Sheriff-"

"You've been exploiting-?!" Aloy began furiously.

"-and I've discovered that the names they were given weren't meaningless," Sylens continued on, raising his voice over hers, and she was so baffled by what he was saying that she actually quieted. "It turns out that most if not all of them were named after gods and goddesses from a tribe even the Old Ones considered ancient, a tribe that died out long before the Faro Plague, known as the Greeks. Demeter was the Greek goddess of the harvest, for example; Artemis was the goddess of the hunt, Poseidon was the god of the sea, Hades was the god of death, Gaia herself was the incarnation of our planet-"

"I don't care, Sylens," Aloy finally managed.

But he just smirked at her. "Can you guess what Apollo was the god of?" he asked.

"I said I don't care!" Aloy snapped.

"You should," Sylens responded, unruffled, "because Apollo was the Greek god of the sun."

This brought Aloy up short, and she stumbled back a step, her jaw going slack.

"So you see," Sylens concluded, "Aren was more right than he knew. You are the sun, Aloy, and this tribe you aim to build will return the light of day to this world of benighted ignorance. A fitting name he gave it, the Apollites…"

"The Sun that never rose," Aloy said softly.

"Pardon?" Sylens asked.

"When…" Aloy cleared her throat. "When I came out here, Brin said he'd seen visions from drinking Machine blood, that I would be the one to rebuild the Sun that was snuffed out before it got a chance to shine. He said it was 'mourned by the Father of Machines to this day', and - and of course HEPHAESTUS would mourn APOLLO, they're siblings, only APOLLO was murdered before it got a chance to live…"

"Interesting," Sylens remarked, putting his fingers to his chin. "Strange how much insight can be gained from drinking Machine blood…I would try it myself, were it not for the innumerable variables I couldn't account for." He shook his hairless head. "Regardless, it's time for you to return to the east, Aloy, as Aren bid you do with his last breath. And I know you're not one to deny a dying man his last request, especially not one you claim to have loved so deeply."

What little warmth there was left in Aloy's limbs turned to ice. "You would really stoop that low?" she hissed venomously at the arrogant tinker. "You would go so far as to use the dying words of the man I loved against me, just to get what you want?"

"If that's what it takes," Sylens responded.

Aloy shook her head. "You're worse than Far Zenith," she snarled. "I don't have to take this from you, Sylens, and I'm not going to anymore." Glancing down at Nil again, she drew strength from the image he'd once painted in her mind. "He offered to kill you for me, you know," she told Sylens. "Once GAIA was restored and I didn't need you anymore, he was going to cut your throat right before you got a chance to ask her any questions, so you'd die with endless knowledge right in front of you but unable to access any of it. I told him I'd have to think about it, but I think I would have taken him up on his offer." Her scowl deepened. "But now he's dead, so I guess I'll have to do it myself."

"You do realize you've just given me a very good reason not to help you repair GAIA, don't you?" Sylens asked, looking more bemused than afraid.

Hatred erupted in Aloy's chest, white-hot and choking, and it felt better than the raw emptiness of losing Nil - it was something Elisabet hadn't known how to feel, it was what made Aloy her own person, and she felt herself smile cruelly. "Oh, you're going to help rebuild GAIA," she told Sylens. "I think you're going to prefer that to the alternative. At this point, you have two choices, Sylens. One, you swear yourself to me, here and now - your life has belonged to me for a long time, after everything you've caused, and it's time you accept it. From now on, we'll do things my way, you will obey me without question - you will not insult me, you will not belittle me, you will not hide things from me. If you do well, then maybe, just maybe, I'll choose not to kill you when GAIA is restored, though that'll depend on just how well you do at being my slave. Or, you can refuse, and I will hunt you down and kill you now, and I will not rest until you're dead at my feet. And you won't be able to run from me, there will be nowhere you can hide; it doesn't matter if you disable my Focus, I will find you, and kill you."

"What makes you so sure?" Sylens questioned, his face entirely neutral at this point.

"HADES," Aloy answered with a smirk. "All I have to do is tell him that his friend and mentor wanted you dead, and he'll do whatever it takes to make it happen. If you disconnect me from him, I'm sure I can get help from the Corsair undoing your work, they know Focuses pretty well; even if not, if you leave HADES behind at GAIA Prime when you run, I'll bring him to the Spire, where he'll be able to send out a signal to search for you, and I will turn a blind eye to anyone or anything else that might die in the meantime; and if you bring him with you when you run and disable my Focus, then I'll find MINERVA and bring them to the Spire to track HADES, and find you that way. No matter what you do, you will not escape me. So I suggest you get on your knees and beg me to let you work for me while you have the chance. Those are your options. Decide now!"

The projection of her loathsome ally stared at her for a long minute, his face betraying no emotion. Then, out of nowhere, his lips curled upwards, and he began to chuckle.

"Don't test me, Sylens!" Aloy snapped at him.

To her surprise, Sylens raised his hands, palms out, and made a visible effort to suppress his laughter. "I apologize, Aloy," he said. "Truly, I mean no offense. It's just…I'm impressed. You've finally figured out how the world really works. Were I a sentimental sort, I'd be proud of you for growing up at long last."

"Good thing we both know you're not," Aloy sneered.

"In any case, I will readily pledge myself to a grown woman who understands what's truly of value," Sylens said, and he actually bent down to one knee, though he was still smiling. "As you say, Aloy. I shall follow your orders from now on, without question, in exchange for GAIA's knowledge."

"I'm not promising you anything of the sort," Aloy spat. "I'm only offering you the possibility that I might let you speak to her. And that's going to have to be good enough for you."

"It is," Sylens assured her, already getting back to his feet, though she hadn't said he could. "What do you want me to do?"

"Go away," Aloy huffed. "I'll call on you when I have orders for you."

"Very well," Sylens nodded. "Take as much time to grieve as you need. And in the meantime…"

Aloy stared as Sylens lifted his hands, tapping and waving his fingers at displays Aloy wasn't privy to. Then, after a minute, her Focus alerted her to a new data point being logged, a holo point titled "Aren Nil Khane Sobeck".

"A gift," Sylens told her.

"What is this?" Aloy hissed.

"I recorded Aren's last moments as a holo data point through your Focus," Sylens told her. "I had a feeling recording it might prove useful, and it seems I was correct. You're welcome."

"You record the death of the man I loved and send it to me as a data point, and you expect me to thank you?!" Aloy shrieked at him.

"You'll never want for a simple means to explain to the recruits for your new tribe exactly what you intend for them and their relations with the other tribes," Sylens pointed out. "And should you ever need to hear Aren tell you he loves you again, you'll never want for that, either. Of course, I can always uninstall it-"

"No!" Aloy yelped reflexively. She scowled at him as he smirked. "I'll keep it," she seethed, "but this counts against your favor, Sylens, not towards it. Remember that. Now go away and work on rebuilding GAIA, and don't come back until I call for you."

"As you say," Sylens nodded, and he vanished, leaving Aloy alone again, with nothing but her anguish for company.

After a moment, Aloy dropped back to her knees, her eyes fixed on Nil's dead face. Even with a holo point, she would never be able to tell if he really had been at peace in that final moment, since holograms didn't project the depths of people's eyes very well…

Somewhere at the back of her mind, she remembered that there was a war going on, yet she couldn't bring herself to care. Nil was gone. Her love, her happiness, her other half, unlikely as he had been, and now she was left with nothing. Eventually, she realized his bow was still clasped in her hand, and she looked at it now - a piece of him, he'd said. Now that she was actually examining it, she could see it really was of exceptionally fine make, and though the coils from the Leviathan were a bit stronger than the ones he'd attached to it, she didn't even have to draw the string to feel just how powerful it would be.

But she wouldn't use it. The Voice of Our Teeth wasn't meant for her; it belonged in the hands of a killer, someone who reveled in bloodshed and death. Though she couldn't attach it to her necklace, it would only be a keepsake, all that was left of the man she'd loved.

Shouldering it, she looked down at her fallen mate once more. "How could I have been so blind?" she whispered. "I loved you, Nil, my Aren…I don't know for how long, but I did. And look what happened. Just like Rost…" Her throat closed, her eyes burning with tears she didn't have any more of to shed. "I'll never love again," she repeated to him under her breath. "Not just because I could never share something like what we had with anyone else, but because my love is a poison, a curse. I'm a curse…"

"Aloy!"

The sudden shout cut off her mourning. Instinct told Aloy to leap to her feet and draw her spear in one fluid motion, but she lacked the strength to act on it. Instead, she sat where she was, resigned to whatever was coming, as a blond young man dressed in tough blue-gray fabric darted under the trees.

"There you are!" Sorren called, and he turned back. "She's here, I found her!"

Aloy watched listlessly as several more people followed after Sorren: Kryse, Orns, Lanida, Winoa, Volag, and Brin.

"I told you she was somewhere in the eastern fringes," Sorren said.

"Yes yes, you found her, well done," Winoa huffed. "Now, just what are you doing out here, huntress?"

This last was pointed at Aloy, but Aloy returned the President's glare steadily. "The Humanoids lured us into an ambush," she answered. "We killed them all, but…" Her head turned, eyes drawn back to Nil's dead body as though by force.

Several gasps came from the assembled audience. "Is he…?" Sorren whispered.

"I couldn't do anything," Aloy choked. "He took a blow meant for me and there was nothing I could do."

"Aloy," Sorren breathed. "I…I'm so sorry…"

"We came to tell you the battle's over," Kryse spoke up. "The Humanoids're all dead, there's nothing left of 'em. We won."

"Aye," Orns remarked, "but at what cost?"

"Things were close for a moment," Winoa added. "The battle could have gone either way. But then the Humanoids faltered, and we rallied and overwhelmed them handily."

"Nil made one of them feel," Aloy said, not looking away from her beloved. "The one that dealt the blow that killed him, Nil stood up with a sword through his chest and told it that human will was more powerful than reason. It was…distressed. And since they were all one mind…"

"Well, I'm sure we could have won regardless," Winoa huffed.

"Even so, it is likely that his last act in life saved a lot of human lives, at the very least," Lanida inserted. "The man was a hero, through and through."

"Yes," Volag agreed, "and he shall be remembered as such."

That got Aloy to look back up at them, all the people who'd come when she'd asked them to, in the name of a cause she'd given everything for. "Will he?" she choked. "Can you promise me that?"

"Oh, aye!" Orns assured her readily. "The man's name'll be legend. Drinking songs'll be sung about him as long as the Corsair sail the seas, you have my word on that, little lady."

"His words helped save us from a false goddess, and a future of emptiness," Winoa declared, "and his deeds helped our victory in the final battle to decide our future. We shall honor his name and his sacrifice to the end of our days."

"His part in helping to fell the great beast of the Oasis will not be forgotten, either," Volag inserted. "The Machines knew him as death bloom in the form of a man, and he shall be remembered thus…but in virtue, not in vice. For even those who live to kill have a place in the grand order of things."

"And a place with others," Brin added. "His union with you, huntress, the strength and support he lent you, that too gave him virtue. Without him, you would surely have failed."

"Yes," Aloy said softly, gently tracing her fingers over Nil's cold, rigid face as she looked back down at him again. "Thank you, all of you. I appreciate your doing this for him."

"We…were hoping you'd give the troops a victory speech," Sorren informed her. "But I guess that's out of the question now, huh?"

A mirthless laugh huffed from Aloy's lips at the idea of a 'victory speech'. What victory? There could be no joy in a battle won, not when it had cost her everything she held dear. "Give your own speeches to the tribes," she said.

"What'll we tell 'em about you?" Orns inquired.

"Tell them that I sacrificed everything for this cause," Aloy said. "And tell them…that I still stand by my decision. Preventing a future of emptiness for all mankind is worth more than…" One man's life. She tried to say it, but the words wouldn't come. She understood now, horribly, why Olin hadn't been able to bring himself to sacrifice his wife and son to warn her about the Eclipse, or make any other attempt to stop the cult from destroying the world…

"That's hardly a fair comparison," Kryse said. "Don't belittle yer own suffering just on account o' the big picture, missy."

"Well, tell them I still believe in what we fought for," Aloy stated. "What he died for." No, that's not true. He died for me, not humanity. I don't believe in me…

"We'll make sure his sacrifice is known, and mourned properly," Orns promised.

"Thanks," Aloy choked. "Hey, Kryse?"

"Aye?"

"Can I…borrow your shovel, please?" she asked. "I want to bury him. I won't move him, I…I think he'd rather be buried where he fell. But I don't want to leave him for the birds and the rats."

"Aye," Kryse said, his boots crunching through the grass as he walked over to her, and when she turned, he had his shovel out and proffered to her. "Free o' charge, too. Take yer time."

"Thanks," she said softly, taking the metal tool.

"If this is where he will rest, then this spot will be hallowed ground to our tribe for the rest of time," Volag declared.

"Ours too," Orns agreed.

"Yes," Winoa concurred. "The tomb of a hero. We shall guard and revere it with all the honor we possess."

"Thank you," Aloy whispered. "That means so much to me."

"Are you going to be okay, Aloy?" Sorren asked.

Mustering all her strength, Aloy turned to look at her friend. His ratlike face was softened with concern, blue eyes shining with sympathy, and that was enough to make her answer honestly. "No," she replied. "You were right, Sorren…I loved him. More than I've ever loved anyone, and more than I ever will."

"Oh…" He blinked, and it looked like he might cry. "I'm so sorry, Aloy," he said, and he clearly meant it. "Did you…at least tell him, before…?"

"Yes," Aloy whispered. "We…had time to say goodbye, at least, and I was able to stop lying to myself and tell him how I felt before he was gone."

"Then…I think he was probably satisfied with his death," Sorren offered. "I mean, to die being told his beloved loved him back…I doubt he could have wanted a better end."

"You'd be surprised," Aloy said softly, closing her eyes, already envisioning the mesa where he'd hoped she would kill him herself in a duel one day.

"Is there anything I can do?" the Deima boy asked.

Surprised by the question, Aloy looked at him again. Though his face resembled Bast, in that moment, he reminded her a lot more of Teb, a soft-spoken and understanding friend. "No," she replied. "Please, just…just leave me alone. Go back to your tribe and…" She shook her head, then turned her attention to Winoa. "I'm going to talk to ELEUTHIA at some point," she told the Deima President. "And then…then I'd like to address your tribe about something. But that might not happen today."

"You are welcome to enter our metropolis whenever you please, on any terms," Winoa nodded. "I may not know precisely who or what you are, huntress Aloy, but the least I can offer you is an open invitation, after what you've done for us."

"I'll be taking you up on that," Aloy told her, and somehow she managed to muster a bit of cold warning to her tone.

If the President noticed, she didn't acknowledge it; she just nodded, and turned away. "Come along, boy," she told Sorren.

"Are you really sure you should be alone?" Sorren worried, taking another step towards Aloy.

"Leave me!" she snapped at him, pulling away, closer to Nil. "Just…just leave me. Please, Sorren, just go."

Though her friend was clearly unhappy about it, he nodded and stepped back.

"Our deepest condolences for your loss, huntress," Volag said.

"Aye," Orns nodded. "We'll drink to his passing tonight, as a tribe."

"That we will," Kryse agreed.

"Thank you," Aloy said softly. "Please go."

One by one, her allies left her, all clearly hesitant to leave her with her misery, but she didn't think she could bear the company. When she was sure they were gone, she turned her attention fully to Nil, and the process of laying him to rest.

Blood marked the ground where he'd been struck down, and Aloy decided it would be easiest to dig there, rather than move him, dig, and then move him again. Her soul still torn apart and crushed in her chest, she began to peel back the layers of soil so that Nil could rest easy, untouched by ravenous animals. Every individual shovelful of dirt was branded into her mind as she worked, every finger's breadth the hole sank under her efforts measured in individual seconds. The strain of her muscles felt good, better than stillness and nothing, at least, and she thought nothing of the time as she dug.

When she was almost satisfied with the depth of the grave, a voice interrupted her: "Aloy!"

Aloy's fingers tightened on the handle of Kryse's shovel as she turned and looked up to see Iani running under the trees, headed straight for her.

"There you are," panted the dark-skinned girl. "I heard you were out here, but-"

"What do you want?" Aloy asked dispassionately, turning back to digging.

"I…" It took two and a half shovelfuls for the Corsair girl to respond. "I heard about what happened," she managed at last, and Aloy let her arms rest a moment as she turned back around to see Iani's dark eyes shining and sad. "I'm so sorry, Aloy. I saw at the festival how close you two were, and I…I can't imagine how you must feel…"

"No," Aloy agreed, "you can't."

Iani swallowed hard and nodded. "I, um…I wanted to say goodbye, at least - my tribe are heading back to the sea now, and-"

"Goodbye, then," Aloy said, turning away.

"I'm sorry to interrupt," Iani told her gently. "I just…couldn't go without saying something. You're my friend, Aloy, I couldn't just leave."

A surge of bitterness rose in Aloy's chest. It was just like back east - people who thought they cared about her, people who called her a friend, yet they knew nothing about her! "I appreciate your sympathy," Aloy said tonelessly. "But there's nothing you can do but go back to your life."

"I'll be thinking of you," Iani promised her softly.

"That's of no use to me," Aloy responded, and she drove Kryse's shovel into the earth once more.

"Is there anything I can do?" Iani asked, almost pleadingly.

Aloy thought it over for four more shovelfuls, and when she assessed the grave she'd dug against Nil's lifeless form, she decided it was sufficient. "Take this shovel back to Kryse," she told Iani, holding out the hefty metal tool.

"Of course!" Iani said quickly, rushing over to take it.

"And if you need a friend outside your group to talk to, talk to him," Aloy said. "He needs a friend."

"I…" Iani blinked. "I…have nothing against him, but…well, he's not part of my crew, staying in touch with him might be difficult…"

"You're free to live as you please, aren't you?" Aloy pointed out. "I'm sure you can think of something."

"I…" The Corsair girl grimaced, but nodded. "If that's what you want, I'll see what I can do," she promised.

"Good," Aloy nodded, climbing out of the hole she'd dug to kneel beside Nil again.

"Take care of yourself, Aloy," Iani said. "Please."

A noncommittal grunt was the only response Aloy felt inclined to give.

There was nothing more to be said, and after an awkward pause, Iani finally walked away, leaving Aloy alone to finish the process. Mustering all her strength, she pushed, pulled, and dragged Nil into his grave, working hard to ensure he was positioned just right, flat on his back, his arms crossed on his chest; after a moment's consideration, she went and retrieved his knife and brought it back to him, clasping his stiff fingers around the hilt - even if he was choosing not to be buried with his beloved bow, he would at least rest with a trusted weapon in hand, as was only right. After gazing at him for a long minute, Aloy reached down and tugged his red-feathered headdress from his brow, setting it aside for later. As she did so, she was almost overwhelmed by a temptation to climb down into the pit and press one last kiss to his dead lips, but she wasn't sure she could bring herself to emerge if she did, and after debating the possibility of burying herself with him, she eventually dragged herself back. At last, with her bare hands, she began to push and scoop all the dirt back to where it had been, covering her beloved bit by bit. Every grain of earth that fell onto his lifeless body struck her like a Thunderjaw stomping on her heart, and somehow her body managed to muster more tears with which to dampen the grave soil.

By the time there was nothing but a pile of loose dirt to mark where Aloy's mate was buried, the sky was turning dark. Mindful of what the tribes' leaders had promised, Aloy picked up Nil's headdress, intending to mark his burial site with it. It was an interesting construct, now that she really took the time to inspect it - a net went over where Nil's hair had been, with feathers interwoven between the strings, all tied to a band that had wrapped around the base of his skull. As she examined it a bit more, a sudden surge of inspiration overtook her, and she grasped one of the metal pieces, the one that had rested over his right ear, and bent it until it snapped in half. A couple of feathers had been melted into the material during the headdress' creation, and so she was left with a bit of metal and two red feathers all resting in her palm as one chunk. She then pulled a wire out of her pack, drew her necklace of keepsakes from under her armor, and tied the piece of the Carja furnishing to the leather cord Rost had given her, on the side of his pendant opposite where she'd put Elisabet's globe.

Her whole family, together on one necklace: mother, father, and mate. And of them, Nil had been the closest and truest of all.

A bloodthirsty lunatic. Her beloved.

Choking on yet more tears, Aloy laid the rest of his headdress at the head of his grave. Then, suddenly realizing it might get blown or washed away by the weather, she drew her hunting knife and plunged it through the tuft of crimson feathers, staking it to the ground. That knife had been hers since the age of ten, but it could be replaced, far more easily than what it now marked, and she couldn't bear to take a piece of Nil with her without leaving a piece of herself with him in return.

For a long minute, she just sat there, kneeling on the upturned earth, feeling his presence below her. Then, without really thinking about it, she started unburdening herself, unstrapping her packs, then her weapons, then her armor, piece by piece, quickly and methodically ridding herself of everything but her leathers and necklaces, tossing it all haphazardly around the mound that covered her fallen lover, even her Focus was flung into the undergrowth without a care. Then, she took off the pendant Nil had commissioned for her and held it up in the dying light between sunset and night. No orange sparks flashed in the dim afterglow that tinged the horizon, but she could see the blossom of night bloom that had burst free of a metal casing, surrounded by arrows, weapon coils, and two swords: an artistic interpretation of who she was, at least as he had seen her.

Night bloom and death bloom were the same plant, he'd said. He'd also said she was the Sun. But for all the answers he'd given, she still didn't understand.

She wasn't sure she cared anymore.

Her calloused fingers closed tightly over the pendant, the metal of the swords digging into the skin of her palms as she clasped it against her chest. As the night finally took its dominion of the sky, she crumpled on top of her partner's grave, curling up in the loose dirt, completely unguarded, with no Focus, no weapons, no traps, no armor, nothing to keep her safe while she slept. Maybe she hoped that something would come for her in the night - a passing Machine, a Humanoid that had escaped the battle, something, anything - and ensure that she never woke up to a world without Aren.

But as the moon made its journey across the sky, nothing came to put Aloy out of her misery.