31.

Cole groaned as he sat down in his office, careful not to disturb the chaotic jumble of scrolls and scraps of notes that he had scattered about his desk.

Another successful play had just taken place. Well, successful was relative. Cole had thought that with a potential war drawing near, that people might want to take refuge in entertainment to help them escape from reality. And for a while, that had been true. But as the war drew closer and closer, the people of Fonsa Myma had abandoned the playhouse. The sort of entertainment they wanted these days seemed to involve much more drinking.

Cole could hardly blame them. Mor Ardain was the preeminent military power in the world. And...something had gone rotten in Mor Ardain. The past few wars they had launched...they had become more and more brutal. The invasion of Gormott had seen the extermination of entire Gormotti tribes as a means of crushing resistance. And during his visit to the capital...there was a strange energy there, a horrifying sort of sense of jubilation, of madness. And it had broken Cole's heart, because there was so much about Mor Ardain that might otherwise be good, or beautiful. Mor Ardain was a tragedy in the making.

"Hello, Minoth."

Cole's head snapped up, his eyes widening, as he glanced towards the doorway, from where the voice had come. There stood three figures, concealed in heavy cloaks. They stepped into his office, tossing back their hoods as they did so. One was a young man with an arrogant look on his face, unfamiliar to Cole. His eyes widened further at the sight of the other two, though. It was Jin, and...a somewhat familiar looking red-headed woman. He gasped as he saw the emerald core crystal on her chest, in the shape of a cross.

"Mythra," he snapped, leaping to his feet. It was no use though, really. His fighting days were long behind him, and even in his prime, he could not have stood up to her alone. He was completely at their mercy.

"It's...Pyra, now," the Aegis said, giving him a wan little smile. "Please. Sit down. We're not here to fight."

Cole remained standing, ignoring her. He looked towards Jin. "Jin. I had heard that you had fallen in with the Aegis. I guess...I always thought in the back of my head, that they must be untrue. Or a misunderstanding. But now I get to see it with my own eyes."

Jin fixed him with a flat, deadly, penetrating stare. The warmth, the spirit that Minoth had remembered was gone from those eyes completely. "I don't expect you to understand," Jin said quietly. "And I don't care to waste the time explaining."

"Well, if you're not here to fight, what are you here for?"

Pyra strode forward, getting closer and closer to him. Cole couldn't help but shiver. There was a deep sadness in her eyes, and even a warmth that had never been there before when she had...been Mythra. But beneath it all, he recognized something...Cole had an intimate familiarity with madness, and the Aegis, oh yes, she had it shining out of her eyes. All the more dangerous because it was subtle, not the wide-eyed glare of a lunatic. It reminded him, he realized with a start, of Amalthus.

When she was about a foot from him, she stopped. "You know...we...never really got the chance to talk much before, did we? But...I've always wondered, if maybe...you might be able to understand. We both share a connection, after all. We have the same driver."

Cole steeled himself, fighting against the instinct to step back from her. He crossed his arms instead, fixing her with a defiant glare. "I haven't spoken to Amalthus in...centuries, really."

Pyra laughed softly. "Neither have I. But we both know the driver who awakens a blade has a...deep impact on them that never goes away. Isn't that right?" She reached out, and Cole flinched as she laid a hand against his face. "I...know what it's like," she murmured softly. "Having that man's mind be...a part of you. It….took me too long to get some independence from him. People...suffered. Died. Because of it."

Cole stared at her, then slowly began chuckling, a chuckle that grew into a wracking cough. "Is….is that it," he gasped, when he recovered. Pyra removed her hand from his face, frowning at him quizzically. "Is that it?" he continued. "Is that what this is all about? This...new form? The peaceful attitude? You blame him for the things you did?"

Pyra's eyes widened somewhat in shock. "Not completely," she replied, uncertainty in her voice. "But...it's undeniable that his influence..."

"Pyra," Cole interrupted. "I...know Amalthus has a lot of darkness in him. I know what it's like to be awoken from him. It's in me, too." He shook his head. "There are times….when I can feel it more than others. When I look at the world, and I can see all the ugliness and awfulness in it, and it's...overwhelming. And I know that's the part of Amalthus in me talking."

Pyra, recovered from her shock, smiled warmly at him. "See. I knew you would understand. We're...alike, aren't we?"

Cole laughed in her face again, wheezing. "We're nothing alike. I have that in me, and you know what I didn't do? I didn't choose to go out and slaughter a bunch of innocent people." He continued laughing. He could do nothing else. It was all so ridiculous.

Pyra said nothing. She merely stood, watching him. She no longer looked puzzled, or sad. She glanced back at Jin, emotionless. "Don't you understand, though?" she whispered finally, despair creeping into her voice. "Don't you see the way the world is…?"

"Don't you get it?" Cole continued. "It's not the world, Pyra. It's not even Amalthus. You are responsible for your actions. And I'm nothing like you, and I'll never understand you, because hell, while I may not be the greatest person, I'm not a monster." He laughed, freely, his heart suddenly unburdened, light.

Pyra stepped back, as if she had been struck by a heavy blow. The color drained from her face. She shook her head, covering her face with a hand. "I really hoped you might understand," she muttered, uncertainly. "Out of anyone...I thought you might see."

"Oh, enough of this," the young man who had come in with them snapped irritably, pushing his glasses back on his face. "We're here for a reason, old man. We know you met with Malos. Why don't you help us draw him out, and I won't gut you."

"Akhos," Pyra snapped.

Cole spread his arms wide, still laughing. "Go ahead! My time here is short anyway, boy. I don't fear you one little bit."

Pyra glanced him over, considering. "You do look….like you aren't doing very well. Early Flesh Eater experimentation was...so primitive. We could help you, Minoth. We know quite a bit about Flesh Eaters. We could fix your ether flow, give you back your strength. You help us, we help you. What do you say?"

"I just told you that I don't care if you gut me. What makes you think I'd help the likes of you for a cure? I've grown used to the idea of death. Humans live with it every day, after all. There's nothing you can threaten me with or offer to me."

"Enough," Jin snapped, finally breaking his silence. He fixed Cole with that deadly, flat stare again. "Cole, Malos being bonded to this child is a joke. A farce. An accident. And it's not any good for him, either. Help us lure Malos out, and this whole idiotic joke can end. It's better for him in the long run anyway, and you know it."

Cole stared back at Jin for a long moment. "It may be less of a joke than you think," he said quietly. "That's...not just any kid, that Malos bonded to, you know. He wants to get to Elysium. And he seems to attract powerful allies." The old Flesh Eater shrugged. "Maybe the wheels of fate are turning again. I don't think it was an accident."

Jin was silent for a long moment, considering this, looking Cole up and down, eyes glaring out from behind his devil's mask. "Fine," he said, quietly. "We'll find some other way to draw him out. Pyra, Akhos, let's go."

Akhos threw his hood up immediately, with an irritated hiss. Pyra gave Cole one last confused, sad look, before she exited the office. Jin was the last to leave. "Jin, wait," Cole called, before he had left. Jin paused, lingering by the doorway. "I'm...sorry," Cole said, finally. "I always wanted to say that to you. We were comrades, and….I should have done more, to help you out of your pain, after the war. I...wonder how things may have turned out, if I had."

Jin froze, for a moment, his back still turned to Cole. "It...is what it is," he said quietly. "Can't change the past."

"It's one of my biggest regrets," Cole continued, staring down at the floor. "You deserved better. You...all did."

Jin glanced back over his shoulder. For a moment, Cole could swear he could see the old warmth in his eyes. The old Jin, the gentle, sincere man that he had once been. "I...don't blame you for it," Jin replied. "It was….good to see you, Cole."

And then he was gone.

Akhos, Pyra and Jin stopped outside of the playhouse, shielding their eyes against the bright glare of the sun as they stepped outside. The plaza the playhouse was in was mostly empty, a few stray advertisements blowing across the cobblestone in the faint wind.

"We know where he's staying," Akhos said irritably. "Why don't we just go to that inn and ambush him? Why bother drawing him out? I think the three of us could take him and his little troupe."

"We're not going to start a fight in the middle of the city," Pyra snapped at him. "There's no need to get anyone else caught up in our battle. If we can draw him out alone, we can take him in without anyone at all getting hurt."

"We don't really have a way to draw him out," Jin mused. And then, his sharp eyes detected movement. He whipped his head around to stare at a small, timid girl, approaching the three in cautious half-steps.

"Ex-excuse me," she said, her voice a frightened, awed whisper. She looked up at them with large, sad eyes, toying nervously with a long strand of her hair. "Did...did you say you could help my grandpa?"

32.

Malos, being the Aegis, did not ever truly sleep.

While his body "slept", he retreated to a portion of his mind to meditate. His mind could hold large, detailed landscapes, in a way a human's mind could not truly ever replicate. Sometimes, he could shape the landscapes to his desires. But he seemed to have a set of landscapes in his mind that had nothing to do with his memories, and that he had no power to change. One of these was the meditation spot that he retreated to during sleep. A large, stone ring platform, suspended in perfect blackness. In the center of the ring was a darkness deeper than even the perfect black that surrounded it, darker and deeper than could almost be described. The void, from which he drew his power. The great emptiness at the heart of all being.

He had no idea, really, why he retreated here during sleep. It was as his Father made him. It must be the same for Mythra, as well, although perhaps she had a different landscape that she retreated to.

It was during sleep that he'd sit, and stare into the void, meditating on the nature of this emptiness. Malos was not what many might call philosophical. But this particular hole, this particular emptiness, this nothing at the heart of things, fascinated him, in a way. How all of being sprang from non-being. During sleep, he would sit, and consider, and try to resolve how this could be so. And his mind raced with more thoughts, faster than any human could ever think, when considering this. Although, ever since he had been damaged in his battle with Mythra, he had found that his thinking on the subject was much slower than it had been before. It may very well be that his Father had also created him to try to solve this particular problem. All questions that could be answered in time.

Malos sat, staring into the void, cross-legged, his mind computing, considering, holding a thousand different thoughts about the subject, when he was interrupted from his reverie.

"Malos," came a quiet voice from behind him.

Malos whipped his head around, to witness Pyra, glancing about herself, at the darkness, fearfully. He got to his feet slowly, purposefully. "Well, well," he said, quietly. "Hello, Pyra."

"This...is your mind?" Pyra asked with wonder, still staring about. "Oh...Oh Malos, I never knew. Why would Father make you this way?" She looked at him with pitying, sad eyes. "I'm so sorry."

Malos threw his hands up. "Okay. Sure. Come into my mind and insult it. Are you here for a reason?"

Pyra finally tore her eyes away from the void and steeled herself with a deep breath. "I'm here because...we're siblings. And I think that….despite all this..." here, she gestured around herself, at the darkness, "I think...you're a good person. I think you're doing what you think is right."

Malos stared at her in shocked disbelief. "Oh. Well, thank goodness. The mass-murderer thinks I'm a good person. That one was really keeping me up at night. Are you serious, here?"

"Yes," Pyra said simply. "Malos, please. You know...you're going to hurt Rex, right? No matter how much you train him, no matter how strong he is, you're going to burn him up inside. He can't take it forever. No human can take your power. And because I think you're a good person, I think you don't want that. At all. Do you?"

Malos was further stunned by this. He contemplated in silence for a moment. "No. I don't. But I wouldn't even need a human to lend my power if it wasn't for you."

Pyra walked forward, a sympathetic smile growing on her face. "I knew you were a good person. I knew you were. You have no idea how much I admire you for that, when Father filled your mind with….all this. And I get it, I really do. You don't believe I've changed. I wouldn't either, if I was in your position. I did awful things. But I think about it, every single moment of every single day. Just...come with me, please. Let Rex live his life. I'm not going to force you to do anything you don't want. I just want to talk. Come with me, and we can talk, and I can give you my point of view, and you can make up your own mind. I promise you, I won't make you do anything at all you don't want to do. We can work it out, talk until we agree. You might even change my mind!" She grabbed his hand, smiling up at him. "And we can even...spend some time together, just as siblings. I...always wanted that."

Malos stared down at her. She seemed...sincere enough. Her face was full of optimism, hope, pleading. It….was like her, and yet not like her. During the Aegis War...when she had been Mythra...the Angel of Death…

Mythra during the Aegis War had been a burning beacon of awful madness. Utterly convinced of her purpose. Optimistic, full of bravado, somewhat arrogant...and completely certain that she was changing the world for the better by burning huge portions of it away. But Malos had always wondered, if he hadn't been bonded to Addam...had he might have felt similarly? As the Aegis, when he had first awoken, it was all too easy to see the world as...beneath him. To dismiss, uncaring, the companions he traveled with. It was only through journeying with them, talking to them….Jin….that he had grown to appreciate just what he was saving from her.

"What is your mission?" he asked quietly.

"Hm?"

"Your mission," Malos repeated. "Last time we talked, when I was awakened...you said you had a mission. What is it?"

"We can talk about it later," Pyra replied. "We'll have all the time in the world to talk about it. We-"

"Be honest with me, Pyra." Malos yanked his hand from hers. "If you've truly changed, start by being completely honest with me. What is your mission?"

"It's….to prevent as much suffering as possible," Pyra said, cautiously. Then she took a deep breath, steeling herself, and stared Malos in the eye. "Even if it means asking Father to change the world he created. Even if it means...ending it."

"Get out," Malos snapped, erupting with black flame. He reached out towards her, ready to sever her connection to his mind.

"Malos, wait, please," she cried, leaping back, and suddenly there were tears streaming down her face. "You don't understand," she sobbed. "No one does, please, please listen, please, I know all the suffering this world goes through, I know all the suffering I caused myself, don't you have any idea? I don't want to hurt any more people. I'm not going to sink any more Titans. If it has to end, I want it to be as clean an end as possible. Didn't you ever wonder why it had to be this way? Please, please, I just want it to stop!"

"We have nothing to talk about," Malos snarled. Black flame jetted forth from his hand, wrapping around Pyra. "Out of my mind. Now. Out."

Pyra screamed, a long, wordless howl. And then she cried: "We have Iona!"

Malos lowered his hand, the black flames receding. Pyra stared up at him, wincing. "Who?"

"Minoth...Cole's 'grand-daughter'," Pyra replied, slowly. "I didn't want it to have to come to this. I was hoping you'd listen and we could just let her go."

"You really are a piece of work. You come here, into my mind, with the gall to judge me, with the gall to tell me you've changed, then tell me you want to end the world and that you've kidnapped a child." Malos spat out into the darkness. "You make me sick. You make me embarrassed that you're my sister."

Pyra's eyes widened, as if Malos had just slapped her across the face. "Please don't say that," she whispered, tears still streaming down her face. "Please. We're siblings. We...we'll understand each other like no one else really will. No one else knows what it's like to be Father's children."

Malos ignored her. "So, what's the deal here? Come meet you alone, or you'll kill the girl?"

Pyra opened her mouth to deny this, but paused, staring at Malos through blurry tears. He was looking at her with such contempt, such hatred, the sort of cold disdain that no one but her brother could really summon. Why did it have to be like this? She could deny that she would ever hurt the girl, but Malos wouldn't ever believe her, anyway. "You already think I'm a monster," she murmured to herself. "So...yes. Come meet us by Olethro ruins, alone, or we'll...kill her."

"You are a monster," Malos said, his eyes flat, sneering down at her. "How could you possibly not understand that? Pathetic. Absolutely pathetic."

"It shouldn't be like this," Pyra whispered to herself. There was a part of her, a part of her that had hoped, deeply, that she and Malos might get along. It was so damn lonely, being an Aegis. Being one of Father's children. She had Jin, but she had always hoped that she might one day be able to talk to her brother, that they may relate to each other in ways they couldn't relate to anyone else. It was her fault, her own damn fault, for wishing so much for that kind of bond, when she knew it would hurt her. But she couldn't help it, she couldn't help it, damn it all. "We're siblings, we-"

"Shut up," Malos said, the words stabbing through her. He was a pillar of black flame now, his words echoing to her as if from across a great distance. She could feel the hate he had for her, the contempt, radiating through his mind, and it tore her apart. "Sickening. Sickening. Out of my mind, now."

And with a blast of black flame, a howling explosion, Pyra was gone, her connection to his mind severed.

Malos awoke from his nap, his eyes snapping open, in his room in the inn. He rose, smoothly, stepping to the window, pushing aside a curtain to look outside. It was late afternoon, the setting sun heavy, spilling across the city, staining the blue rooftops orange, creating a glittering sea of bright lights as it reflected off the myriad windows of the city's buildings.

He could almost laugh. Talking with Pyra...filled him with such rage, such contempt, such sheer righteous hatred. It felt good to hate something as twisted, as awful, as corrupt as her. It invigorated him. Filled him with a burning, roaring energy.

"Well," Malos said to himself, clenching his fists, "I suppose there's only one thing to do."

33.

Olethro ruins was located at the top of a long, marble staircase, at the pinnacle of Fonsa Myma.

Malos was somewhat surprised that they still existed in such good condition. He had walked these steps once before, long centuries ago. It was where Addam had first awoken him. He shielded his eyes from the sun, staring up the long climb ahead of him. It was nearly dusk now.

When he had first awoken...he was much different than he had been now. Awakening...wasn't really like calling him into existence. It was instantiating him, in a particular form. He had existed before awakening, but his memories of that time…they were odd, strange, impossible to process, really. A series of strung-together, abstract thoughts and concepts. Probably not meant to be recalled with perfect accuracy in his current form. He simply knew, he had existed before Addam instantiated him.

When he had first...manifested, he had been much different than he was now. It was also hard for him to recall early memories from this time. He remembered...his annoyance, at being called into being. When he had first manifested, he hadn't even had a face – the first form he had chosen was encased entirely in black armor, and inside the armor, which he never removed, was nothing but the black flame. He had come into existence simply knowing his duty: to stop Mythra. And he wanted to get it over with, as soon as possible, in order to...go back to how he had been. To his previous form. Something about his previous form...wanted to go back to what it had been doing before he had awoken. He wasn't sure what it was. It was simply how he had been created. He just knew he had preferred the abstract, strange realm that he had been pulled from.

It had taken time, for him to open up to the experiences of this world, to see the worth of it. It was actually...seeing Jin and Lora, that had made him curious about this world. The bond they shared had intrigued him. And it was actually Jin's cooking that had made him curious enough to make him take a face, made him curious enough to manifest in his current form. He had wanted to know what it meant to taste.

But as for the bond...it seemed he was incapable of it. Again, simply how his Father had created him. He was never able to have the sort of emotional connection, the glowing golden cord that other blades had. His connection was painful for humans, instead. Vampiric, destructive. He...didn't mourn it, really. It was what it was. His bond was interesting enough in itself. But it would be a lie to say he wasn't envious of other blades, sometimes. The emotional connection they had. Malos didn't particularly care for the idea of love, though he found it amusing, and somewhat endearing in others. But the idea of the experience itself – the knowledge he might draw from it – after all, what if the glowing golden cord held some bit of information that might help him solve the eternal paradox of the Void?

But even though he was incapable of manifesting the golden cord that other blades could, he had gained a taste of normal emotional connections. He had...genuinely liked many of the people he had traveled with, with Addam. And...Jin in particular. The two of them, during the Aegis War, had gotten along very well. Jin had shared his ironclad sense of duty, and Malos had admired Jin's desire to change the world. After all, what was the point of knowledge? Power. And what was the point of power? To change the world. Shape it, as you saw fit.

The idea that Jin….was the same Jin he had been all those centuries ago...why would Jin be with Pyra? What had happened to him?

Malos summoned his blade to his hand, as he mounted the final few steps up to the peak. The stairs led to a large arch, which opened up into a wide ampitheater, empty now – but Malos had seen it filled with a crowd of hundreds when he had first awoken. It was still in amazingly good condition – some cracks in the marble, here and there, some weeds springing up from between the cracks, but still entirely serviceable. The sky was visible from here, and the gargantuan, waving tail of the Urayan Titan, waving off into the horizon. The sky was stained orange and purple, lighting up the Cloud sea like a painting.

In the center of the ampitheater stood Akhos, Obrona, Pyra, and Jin, silhouetted against the setting sun, casting long, stretching shadows that reached out toward him. It was difficult to make out their features, but Pyra's glowing green core crystal shone out from her silhouette like a beacon. Iona stood by them, cowering, her arm held in Akhos' iron grip.

"Malos," Pyra called out to him. "Please. Put your blade away. We don't need to fight. Just come with us. Everything I said still applies. I just want to talk-"

"I'm here," Malos snapped, interrupting her. "Now let Iona go."

"Not until you're on the ship with us," Akhos began, but Pyra shot him an absolutely withering look. "Fine, fine," he said, putting his hands up, releasing Iona. "Get out of here, brat. And if you call the guards, I'll pay you and your grandpa a visit."

Iona ran towards Malos, quickly scampering past him, tears in her eyes. She paused at the top of the steps, looking back towards Akhos. "Y-you're an asshole," she shouted, then darted down the steps with a yelp.

"Hah!" Malos laughed. "I like that kid." Then he turned back toward the trio, walking toward them.

Pyra walked forward to meet him. "Malos, please," she pleaded. "Put your blade-"

Malos continued ignoring her. "Jin," he called out. "What are you doing? Why are you with these monsters? What the hell happened to you?" He shook his head. "What would Lora think?"

Jin had drawn his blade himself, holding it out in front of him, in the steeled, disciplined stance that Malos still found so familiar. But his eyes...they held so much rage. "You," he said, his voice flat and cold, "Never, never say her name to me."

Pyra and Malos, walking towards each other, were about ten feet from each other now. Malos stopped, and Pyra did as well. "You're not going to be able to beat us," Pyra said. "Fighting would be pointless. I don't want to hurt you. Just come with us, and let this end."

"Wait," Akhos snapped suddenly. "What's that noise?"

Jin, Pyra and Akhos spun around, as with the flap of mighty wings and an awful roar, Gramps soared up from beneath the platform the ampitheater was built on, landing in the middle of it with an slam, enough to shake the ground, behind Akhos, Obrona and Jin. Tora, Poppi, Morag, Brighid, Vandham, Roc, Nia, Dromarch and Rex all quickly leapt from his back, blades at the ready.

Malos smiled. This had been the plan, quickly hatched once he had woken up. Let them think he was coming alone, and then ambush them when they were least expecting it.

"What have you done," whispered Pyra, eyes widening. "No, no no. Why are you dragging them into this? I don't want to hurt them! I don't want to fight them, please!"

"We don't have to fight," Rex yelled, stepping forward. "You guys are outnumbered. And we've got a Titan on our side. Why don't you give up?"

Jin, his sword at high ready, eyeing Gramps warily, pinned Rex with a hard stare. "Do you think a Titan guarantees you victory, boy?" he asked, his voice cold fury.

"Well, I certainly think I tip the scales in their favor," Gramps mused, baring rows of dagger-like teeth. His yellow, lantern-like eyes flicked to Akhos, who quailed a bit beneath his stare. "I, ah, am given to understand one of you shot my Rex with an arrow. I can be quite protective of the lad."

Pyra spread her hands. "Everyone...let's just...AKHOS, NO!"

But it was too late. The younger Flesh Eater had been slowly backing up from the group, quietly putting distance between them. And in a flash, he drew his bow, and let loose an arrow aimed at Rex's head.

And suddenly, everything was chaos.

With a flick of his tail, Gramps deflected the incoming arrow with his stony hide, and with a bellowing roar, dove after Akhos. Rex gaped at the sight. He had never seen Gramps get violent before. Had never seen his fury. It was like watching a small mountain attack someone. He stampeded across the arena, claws digging long, ragged marks in the marble, snapping and breathing flame at Akhos, who jumped backward into the ampitheater stands in panic, Obrona darting to his side.

Jin flickered, and suddenly, he wasn't where he had been. And suddenly, he was standing in the midst of the group, a stroke from his blade intercepted by Morag and Vandham simultaneously, who quickly fell into a deadly dance with him, Nia and Tora joining in.

"No!" Pyra screamed, despair thick in her voice. She turned around to face Malos, and her eyes were wild with panic and pain. "Why?!" she asked, her voice cracking. "Why?! Why would you put them in harm's way?!"

And in a flash, Malos bridged the gap between them, throwing his sword through the air to Rex as he did. The boy caught it expertly. And then Malos wrapped his hands around Pyra's neck, and lifted her bodily off the ampitheater floor. Pyra screamed as dark flames coursed through her body. They were...pulsing outward from her core crystal. She could feel Malos draining energy and information from her crystal, healing himself.

"There is no point in talking," Malos hissed at her, and his eyes were boiling pits of black flame, radiating hate. "Do you understand, sister? I am going to annihilate you."

Akhos leapt nimbly from stand to stand in the ampitheater, dodging the crashing blows and raking claws of Gramps, which were quicking reducing much of the stands to rubble. He looked out at the scene before him in panic. Pyra was struggling in Malos' grip, and Jin was flickering quickly, dueling the entire group, pushing himself much too hard for how exhausted he had been going into the battle. This was already going very poorly.

He screamed in panic as Gramps let out a mighty gout of flame, leaping down from the stands towards where Malos was choking Pyra. "Obrona!" he shouted to the blade at his side. "Do it! Cut their ether flow! NOW!"

Malos whipped his head towards them, giving him a baleful glare. "Not this time," he snapped, throwing Pyra aside like a ragdoll, where she lay gasping for breath. He hadn't finished healing himself, but there would be time for that later. He had repaired himself enough to regain some powers, at least. With a roar, Malos erupted into a pillar of dark flame and spread across the ground, racing rapidly, reforming next to Obrona, who had just begun to concentrate on her ether disruption. With a sneer, he stretched out a gauntleted claw, closing it around the glowing blue core crystal in Obrona's chest. Her wings fluttered in panic, and now it was her turn to scream, struggling, lashing out at him as he began draining energy from her crystal.

"Bastard!" Akhos screamed, dodging another one of Gramps' blows. He drew his bow, but with the Titan bearing down on him, couldn't manage to get an opportunity for a clean shot. "Stop! STOP!"

"AKHOS!" Obrona screamed, the fluttering of her wings growing weaker as Malos, with a grim smile, continued draining her. "AKHOS! IT HURTS! Help me, help me help me, I'm scared, I'm scared, it hurts so bad-"

Her screams and protests grew weaker and weaker. Akhos stopped giving a damn about the Titan attacking him, dashing across the battlefield in a panic, running towards Malos – only to arrive just in time to see Obrona's form go limp, and for her body to vanish within her core crystal with a flash of light, so that Malos was holding nothing but her crystal within his outsretched hand. Obrona's ether connection with him vanished.

He collapsed to his knees, the din of combat around him seeming far away, staring up at the Dark Aegis in shock. "No," he whispered. "Wh-why?"

Malos looked down at him in contempt. "Never forget, this is your fault," he spat. And with a final pulse of dark flame, Obrona's core crystal turned from a bright glowing blue to a deep, dead black. With a sneer, Malos clenched his fist, and her crystal shattered into shards and dust. "Never forget the price of trying to kill my driver," he continued, and with a contemptuous flick of his wrist, dashed the shattered shards and dust into Akhos' face.

Akhos' eyes went wide with stunned, absolute shock, and he didn't even have time to react before a flick from Gramps' tail sent him flying across the ampitheater, crashing into a wall, which splintered and cracked under the impact.

Meanwhile, Jin was flagging quickly, dueling the entire group. He cursed himself for driving himself to exhaustion before this battle. He could feel his core crystal growing more unstable, as he pushed himself further and further to the limit, drawing upon his powers to flicker, deliver a blow that was more often than not intercepted, if not parried by Vandham or Morag, then bouncing harmlessly off of Tora's shield, and flicker away before anyone could counterattack.

Finally, he thought he saw an opportunity. Nia had been sneaking around the fringes of the group, healing the small blows that Jin had managed to sneak in. Flickering carefully, he managed to suddenly shift the group away, and then flickered over to her, sword raised high above his head, poised to bring down a swift killing blow.

But the way she looked at him – her eyes widening in the brief second where she realized what was happening, but was powerless to stop it – the sadness there, the betrayal – Jin remembered Pyra's words: That Nia had adored him. And despite her treason, he found himself unable to bring that sword down, unable to deliver that blow.

And in the moment when he hesitated, the moment when he paused, a crack, like a gunshot, rang out from behind him, and pain tore through his back. He gasped, falling forward, and felt a painful, awful...tugging, deep within his gut, where nothing ought to be tugging at him. He glanced back in surprise, to see a jagged, bloody hole torn in his back, with a cable snaking out of it, leading to Vandham's wrist winch.

The large man gave him a vicious smile. "Hey there, Jin. You like this little rig up I got here? You see, when I heard I might be fighting you again, I asked my little furrypon friend here," - he nodded to Tora, who waved at Jin cheerfully - "if he might rig something up that would grab you from the inside, for my wrist cable here. The way I see it, now, if you try any of that flickering nonsense, you're gonna tear your own guts out."

Jin's eyes widened. He...wasn't actually sure what would happen, if he tried flickering with this cable inside him. He gasped with pain as Vandham flicked a switch on his wrist, and began pulling him in. He tried striking at the cable with his blade, but it was impossible to get a good angle to strike it from with any strength, pulled taut out his back as it was.

"I bet you don't even know the names of my men that you killed," Vandham snarled, as he pulled Jin closer and closer to the waiting blades of the group. "Well, let me tell you. Ricky. Rolf. Jules. Shen. Robbie. All good men. I've been looking to avenge them for a long time now."

"Wait."

Jin looked upward. Malos was approaching them, striding across the battlefield. Behind him, Jin could see Akhos desperately scrambling away from Azurda, clouds of dust and rubble flying through the air where the Titan slammed his massive claws. Where was Obrona? Why was she not disrupting the ether flow? His eyes flicked back to Malos, who stood only a few feet away now, seemingly not caring that he was with in the reach of Jin's blade.

"Jin," Malos said, and Jin was surprised to see real pain, real sadness in the eyes of the Dark Aegis. "What happened to you…?"

Jin lashed out at him with his blade, which Malos nimbly dodged. "You would never understand," Jin gasped through gritted teeth, fighting against the pain.

"I wouldn't." Malos shook his head. "How? How could you join up with the destroyer of Torna?"

Jin's eyes flashed. "You were both the destroyers of Torna! BOTH of you! You both tore the land apart! She repented! You, you-"

Malos reached out towards him. "Jin...it was our duty. I...thought you understood-"

"Exactly. You think it was all worth it, all for your damn duty of destroying her. It wasn't worth it."

Pyra gasped, finally recovering from Malos' attack. She raised her head, coughing, her vision blurry, looking out across the battlefield.

Akhos was dodging Azurda's attacks, just barely managing to dodge out of the way of the Titan's crushing blows. Obrona was nowhere to be seen. And Jin…

Jin was...stuck, a bloody hole in his back, with a cable snaking out of it, surrounded by the waiting blades of Rex's party. Pyra watched, horrified, as Malos, that black stain, that vampire in a blade's skin, reached out, his hands, is awful, killing hands reaching towards Jin's face…

"No," she whispered, stumbling to her feet. When Malos had drained her, she had felt his malice, his sheer will to destroy her, and she knew, seeing his mind, her Father had made him his most cruel instrument, and he was going to touch Jin, leave him a husk, leave him a nothing, Jin was going to die screaming…

"No," she said. "NO," she shouted. "JIN!"

And there was a burst of howling, searing light, like a miniature star had just descended on the battlefield. Everyone shielded their eyes, as the entire world turned white. Even Azurda paused, looking away from its source.

And when the light had dimmed, receding, Pyra was gone. In her place stood a tall, regal-looking woman, with long, flowing blond hair. She wore a short, white, pleated dress, and on her chest rested the same green core crystal that had decorated Pyra's. Long gloves ran up her arms, and both her gloves and dress were inlaid with gold and glowing green, and she held a sword of blazing light. She opened her eyes, a deep, golden hue, and in them there was despair more thorough and complete than Rex had ever seen. But the despair soon fled, replaced with fiery determination.

"You will not hurt him," Mythra said, raising her sword to the sky, and hellish light lanced from the sky, raining down around her.

Malos' eyes widened before he was thrown by one of the explosions. Seeing Pyra's weakness, he had assumed that Mythra had been damaged in her battle with him. But apparently she had been locking away her power. This was Mythra at full strength, undamaged, unrestrained.

The battlefield became a chaos of light, roaring explosions, and madness. Nia was tossed to the ground, ears ringing, as the explosions roared down around her. She gasped for breath, looking up. Rex was nearby, coughing dust, holding Malos' blade. Smoke surrounded her, obscuring most of her vision, flashing with muted light as yet more explosions rained down.

In front of her, as if watching in slow motion, she saw Mythra walk through the smoke and explosions, seemingly unaffected. She walked toward Vandham, the only one still on his feet. Though, Nia saw, he had a large, smoking hole in his side. With a roar, he dashed towards Mythra, Roc by his side, scythes whirling in his hands, raging against the dying light of day.

And for a moment, he was beautiful. For a moment, Mythra seemed taken off-guard by his fury and skill. For a moment, they danced among the lancing light, among the explosions and the chaos and the destruction, and for a moment, Vandham defied Mythra, favored creation of the Architect himself. His blades danced, faster than they ever had, and the Aegis herself, the Angel of Death herself retreated against his onslaught.

And it was no thoughtless charge. Nia could see what he planned. He was backing her up against the edge of the platform, where it opened up out into the Cloud Sea. If he could push her off the edge, he might save them all. Sweat poured from him, and he laughed a delighted laugh in the face of death, spitting defiance at Mythra, the wild-eyed daughter of the Architect, who, for all her might and glory, could not keep pace with his blades.

And then Mythra raised one white-gloved hand, and light flowed forth from her fingertips, lancing through Vandham.

"No," Nia said, as Mythra walked forward, grabbing the stunned mercenary by the collar, and she didn't have time to say anything more, before, with one smooth motion, Mythra slid her blazing blade through Vandham's chest. Roc shook, as if the sword had gone through his chest, as well, and fell to the ground.

Silence settled upon the battlefield, as the light stopped raining down from the sky, and the smoke began to settle. Silent all for the sound of weeping.

Mythra's weeping.

"Oh, why did you make me do it?" she asked, still holding Vandham's body in her hands, looking around the battlefield at the stunned, collapsed members of Rex's party. "Why did you wake me up, only to make me kill again?" She glanced up at them, and now her eyes were full of despair again. "Why? I never wanted this, I never wanted to be part of the ugliness of this world, not again. Why couldn't you let me sleep forever?"

In her hands, Vandham coughed up blood. She looked down at him with wild, frantic eyes as he reached out toward her, still-living but half-delusional, staring at her with eyes that could no longer see. "What're you talkin' about," he whispered to her, his fingers brushing against her face. "This world...ain't so bad…." He coughed, staring up at the sky. "Hey, little man, daddy's home," he said, voice barely audible, hoarse, a peaceful smile spreading across his face.

Mythra gasped, as his form went limp, and with a burst of light, Roc disappeared back into his core crystal. She dropped him, raising one hand to her mouth. "Why," she said, softly. "Why, oh, what have I done, why is it like this?" She looked around, with eyes that seemed to see past them, wild and mad and full of pain. "Oh, it's all still so awful, and I can feel it all," she whispered.

"No," Nia heard Rex snarl from beside her. He struggled to his feet, raising Malos' sword, his eyes wild and furious, looking at Vandham's body. And suddenly, his sword was writhing in black flame. He raised his gaze to Mythra, who looked down at him with shock. "I am going to kill you for this," Rex growled, with more anger and hate than Nia had ever heard in his voice, and he rushed at Mythra with a furious howl. Moments later, others leapt to their feet to join him, Morag, Tora, Poppi…

Nia, though, rushed to Vandham's side, Dromarch shadowing her.

She knew that, just because his body was mortally wounded, so much that his blade had retreated to its crystal, it didn't mean he was beyond her power to save. It was like when she had healed Rex, after Jin had killed him. Even though any doctor would have declared Rex dead, she could still feel a flame, deep within him, a determined flame, clinging on. As long as she could feel that flame in someone, she knew she could save them.

And she could feel that flame in Vandham now. Flickering. Growing dimmer by the moment. Fragile as a candle in a storm. But it was there. He could still be saved.

"C'mon big guy, hold on just a bit for me," Nia whispered, as she knelt by his side. His wounds were horrific, more than enough to drive the life out of anyone else. "But you're the legendary Vandham, aren't you," Nia said, smiling faintly. "This won't kill you, will it? You're a tough old bastard, you can come back from this." She poured healing into him, but, she knew, it wouldn't be enough, at all, to use her normal healing abilities. She would need to use her Flesh Eater abilities.

"Hold on, hold on, hold on," Nia whispered, as she glanced up. Could she do it without being noticed? Smoke still covered parts of the battlefield, and everyone else was busy fighting Mythra, who handily seemed to be keeping the upper hand. Maybe if she-

And then, while she was glancing around, wondering, she felt Vandham's flame go out.

Nia gasped, looking down at the corpse in front of her, now beyond her power to save. "No," she said, eyes wide. She looked down at her gloves, covered with his blood. "Vandham," she said, shaking him in a futile attempt to change the situation. But it was no use. Once the flame was gone, it was gone for good. Vandham was dead. She could have saved him, and now he was dead, because she had been such a damn coward fool to wait and wonder if she could manage to save him in secret. Her head was spinning, and her eyes stung with hot tears. "Oh, Architect," she gasped, as the tears began streaming down her face. "Oh, what have I done?"

She staggered to her feet, almost falling over. The world seemed flat, unreal. More explosions rocked the world around her as Mythra poured more light from the sky, but Nia barely noticed it. Her trembling fists clenched her twin rings. Dromarch had to forcefully push her out of the way of explosions that drew too near, projecting an ether shield to protect her from the blast, as she stumbled across the battlefield, toward Mythra.

Mythra, even half-mad and sick with guilt, was easily holding off Rex, Malos, Tora, Poppi, Morag and Brighid. With a flick of her wrist, bursts of light sent Tora and Poppi flying backwards. Strikes bounced off a seemingly impenetrable ether shield. Even Azurda, once he had recovered, was sent flying backwards, hide smoking, by yet another blast of light, the entire arena shaking as he crashed into the ampitheater's stands, sending rubble and dust flying. "Please stop," she begged, as she raised her hand, and an explosion sent Morag and Brighid flying through the air, to land with a harsh thud dozens of feet away. "Please. Please. I don't want to hurt you anymore. I don't want to hurt anymore. Please. Jin." She turned away from Rex, scanning the battlefield. "Jin. Where is-"

With a roar, Rex channeled Malos' power through his sword, concentrating as hard as he could at unmaking Mythra. Black flame ate through her ether shield, gnawing, melting, and she screamed as it ate into her as well.

"Rex," Malos said, eyes widening. "Careful. Don't draw on too much-"

"I have to," Rex gasped, eyes burning. He channeled more of the power into himself. And now, the flames weren't just flickering up and down Malos' blade in his hands. Now they were flicking up and down his arms, as well. He shoved away the pain. There was only one thing in the world he wanted in this moment, and that was to see Mythra lying broken in front of him. "She killed Vandham," he cried, choking on the word 'killed'.

Mythra turned towards him, anger flashing in her eyes, and she sent him flying with a blast of light from her palm as well. She turned towards the battlefield, where a staggering, limping Akhos was supporting Jin, dragging him towards her. "I've called...the Monoceros," Akhos panted. "It's...right below us."

Mythra nodded, then turned her wild, mad gaze towards Malos, the Dark Aegis, standing weaponless before her.

Malos blazed with dark flame. "You try to take me, and I'll kill them," he hissed, gaze flicking toward Akhos and Jin.

She stood, staring at him, for a long, silent moment, the wind howling through her hair, sword of blazing light in her hand. "It didn't have to be like this," Mythra replied finally, narrowing her eyes, blazing with fury. "You...you're as much a monster as me." And shaking her head, she walked away.

"No," Rex gasped, struggling to his feet once again, as Mythra, Akhos and Jin made their way to the edge of the platform, the area that dropped out into the cloud sea, looking back on Uraya's tail, its undulating motions now concealed in dusk. "NO!" he shouted, as Mythra took a breath, and then stepped off the platform, dropping down into the Cloud Sea hundreds of feet below. He ran to the edge of the platform, looking down. He thought he glimpsed the dark shape of a ship moving beneath the clouds.

He raised Malos' blade to the sky, drawing more and more power, unthinking, unfeeling of the pain, the dark flame roaring across his arms, dark flame dripping from his eyes. With a shout, he channeled it into the Cloud Sea. Huge pillars of the dark flame erupted from it, tearing huge, ragged holes in the Cloud sea itself, as Rex frantically spent his power, trying to take down the ship.

"REX!" Malos called. "STOP!" And then he glanced down to his side.

Nia was pulling at his arm. She looked dazed, shocked, tears streaking her face, and she looked up at him with a pleading expression. "Stop….giving him your power...please," she got out. "Please, don't hurt him anymore."

"I...can't," Malos replied, his eyes widening. Rex was drawing upon his power without Malos being able to control it. Nobody had ever been able to do that before. His eyes widened further as Rex channeled more and more of his power. "Someone has to stop him."

Nia stared up at Malos in shock, then glanced towards Rex, gasping. She could feel the deep, awful wounds he was inflicting on himself. She snapped out of her funk, dashing forward towards Rex. "Stop it," she yelled. "You damn fool, I said stop!" She grabbed him by the shoulder, spinning him around. Her eyes widened to see his face, dark flame dripping from his eyes, mouth. She drew back, and slapped him as hard as she could. "Stop it right now, you idiot, you're killing yourself!" She grabbed him by his shirt, shaking him. "Do you think we need another corpse right now?! Please...please, just stop."

Rex looked at her with shock, and then, slowly, the dark flame fled from him, slowly dwindling out. His eyes returned to their normal golden hue. He looked about the battlefield, the ampitheater now scored and pockmarked by craters, much of it smashed to rubble and dust. Everyone but Vandham was groaning, moving, slowly getting to their feet, shaking dust and pushing rubble off themselves.

His eyes settled on Vandham's corpse, lying sprawled in the center of the ampitheater. "No, stop," he said to Nia, tears welling up in his eyes, as she began to heal him. "I...don't deserve it."

Nia ignored him, healing him anyway, as they both staggered over to Vandham, sinking to their knees before him. He looked...peaceful, in a way. Almost as if a faint smile played across his lips. As if his last thoughts had been happy ones.

"Oh, Architect, I'm so sorry," Nia whispered, to Vandham, to Rex, to everyone. "This is all my fault. I'm so sorry."

"This is...funny joke, right?"

Everyone glanced across the battlefield to Poppi. The small robot girl had gotten up, and was staring at Vandham's corpse. An X was still painted across her face. She looked around at everyone, uncertainly. "This is...ha ha, joke, right? Vandham is playing a joke, right?"

"Oh, Poppi," Tora said.

"This is...just silly joke, so why does Vandham not get up?" She walked towards his body, kneeling besides it with Rex and Nia. "Why does he not get up?" she asked again, her voice finally breaking. She held a hand to her metallic chest. "Please get up, do not break Poppi's heart," she whispered.

And she threw herself across his body, letting out a long, mournful wail, and that was how the guards found them, drawn to the ruins by the sound of explosions.

Note

And there we go, chapter 3 is finished finally, clocking in at around 70k words. More or less, the next in-story chapter is going to be a lot of post-battle reactions, which I originally planned on including in this chapter as part of the "Chapter 3" content, but which would have made this chapter very, very long, so they can get a chapter to themselves, as part of the "Chapter 4" content, next week. The battle itself wound up being much longer than I thought it might be.

Music is very inspiring for me, and there's a few songs for Chapter 4 content that I have found very inspiring, but there is one song in particular here that really inspired me when writing Vandham's fight against Mythra and his death: "Song for Bob," by Nick Cave and Warren Ellis

I really considered having Vandham live, because I really enjoyed writing him, but that was the goal I set out for with this chapter: to make Vandham feel like a character whose story got cut short, whose presence you'd miss in later chapters.

As always comments are very inspiring, please comment if you can