From the summit of Kudik Peaks, Marche could see all of Ivalice. She spread open as a patchwork quilt of farms, forests and cities. The winds carried the land on it: fresh-baked Sprohm bread, the leafy smell of the Giza plains and even the Jagds' bitter cold. Marche closed his eyes and leaned into the gust. He felt the world embrace him with the comfort of faith and the warmth of a mother's touch.
When he again opened his eyes, the whole of it was burning. The towering flames made no noise. Only the wind whistled. Something wet his gloves. He looked at his hands and saw that they were dark with blood. A shadow fell across him and he whirled to a Judge, mounted high on a plated chocobo. One hand held the reins, the other a sword. The two locked their gaze. Marche could feel his heartbeat.
The Judge moved the sword with the wind, driving the length of steel through Marche's gut. He staggered, but didn't feel pain. He looked at the sword and spoke, but no words rang out. The wind continued to whistle as the Judge lifted him from the ground, sliding Marche down the blade to the hilt. The Judge whipped the reins and walked to the edge, casually flipping the blade to remove the body. Marche had his mouth open as he flew through the air, unable to scream or serve any verbal emotion. Blood trailed him like escaping birds. His hands spread, arms limp.
He fell for hours, not moving, not breathing. He landed in the inferno. The flames started to eat at him. There was no pain as it bubbled his flesh. As the fire crowded his vision, he saw the top of the cliffs, now impossibly close. The Judge sheathed its sword and took hold of its helmet, removing it with ease. Marche's body went tight. Ritz wore the armor, contempt working every faucet of her expression. Marche reached to her, his fingers ablaze. He opened his mouth and one word rang, truly now the only sound.
"Why?"
She answered. Marche tried to get up, to go after her, but his body was fixed to the ground, pinned by the fire. He suddenly felt very tired. He relaxed his muscles and took a breath, falling into a sleep against his will. The flames took him. He saw Ritz turn and leave just as the darkness came. Her words finally arrived.
"You had no right to steal this from me."
Marche lost consciousness completely and he drifted away from the burning world.