Day 21:
Days passed. Each morning she woke, surprised to see the sun, amazed that Insomnia was still intact, and puzzled that those people she had pushed away so insistently still loved her. The memories didn't go away. They didn't fade or soften. Even as this world became more real to her, it took only an instant for a bad dream to become reality all over again.
One instant she stood speaking with Iris in the Citadel—offering up the wisdom she wanted that Reina never intended to use again. Iris touched her necklace: the coin had hung around her neck for ten long years. She always used to fuss with it when she was thinking about her father.
The next second Reina was standing in Lestallum in the dark, Starscourge clinging to her like a cloak, while Iris clutched at her necklace and shouted at her. Upset. Disappointed. Broken. Every word, every gesture, every motion played out exactly as it had. Reina's heart pounded against her ribcage and she was frozen. Everything she had felt then, she felt now. With one addition. This time hot tears streamed down her cheeks, dripped down her neck, and soaked into the front of her shirt. Just like before, she couldn't say a word.
"Rei! What's wrong?" Iris scrambled to pass her a tissue.
The year was seven fifty-six.
One instant she sat on a bench in the gardens. Ignis had stopped on his way to deliver a message and spoken with her for a time. She still expected his eyes to be colorless and scarred. To see them once more green and focused was a blessing.
But when he turned to leave, she was in her room in the Leville.
"I'm not alone," she had said.
"No. But you will be."
He didn't turn around once he had turned his back on her. He shut the door just barely too lightly to be called a slam. His footsteps sounded steadily down the hall to the stairs and faded away entirely. In spite of everything she said to him, she was more alone than she ever had been in her life. Just the velvet voice whispering in her ears, calling her to the darkness, telling her to let him walk away.
"Ignis, wait!" She pulled the door open and raced down the hall after him. She collided with his chest only a few paces down. He held her shoulders and looked down at her with green eyes. They stood in the gardens.
"I'm right here, Reina," he said.
The year was seven fifty-six.
Ravus walked down the hall toward her, leaving the Crownsguard training room with a few officers trailing after him, stretching their sword arms. His step faltered, his movement stiff and awkward as he shook out his legs.
And blackness stretched from a shadow on his cheek, taking over his face, his neck, his shoulder, and dripping down his torso and leg. His body melted and reformed beneath it. A horn burst from his skull, twisting upward, and he threw back his head and gave a cry, half of pain, half of rage, and all of it echoing with corruption.
"Reina?" He stopped in front of her, face clear, voice natural. "Is something wrong?"
The year was seven fifty-six.
When she emerged from the shower in the evening, Father lay on his back in the middle of his bed, motionless with his eyes closed. Though his chest rose and fell steadily, there was nothing inside. Roses cascaded, black and white, across his pillows and bedspread. The plaque below his portrait was dedicated to his life.
"Why do you care about a corpse?" A voice whispered in her ear.
She dropped onto the edge of the bed. His skin was warm, but that meant nothing. Just one more bribe Ardyn laid out before her. If only she could have believed what he promised.
Father's eyes opened when she touched his cheek. And he smiled gently up at her.
The year was seven fifty-six.
The Crown City only scarcely resembled what she remembered from her childhood. The buildings and streets were all the same. The faces, perhaps. Even the voices. But outside those few she held dear, everyone was changed in her eyes.
Once she had stood on the library balcony and admired the view of the city.
Now she looked out on Insomnia and saw a hundred thousand people who had no idea how much had been sacrificed for them. They wouldn't have cared if they had known.
They didn't deserve it.
She still couldn't stand watching the sun set. No matter how many times it rose again the next morning, that darkness that followed prompted unwanted recollections: Sitting atop the Leville with Iris; standing on her balcony alone, watching Lestallum skip and stutter as the same few seconds of her life repeated themselves.
She avoided the windows and stayed indoors after sunset.
Father and Noctis would gather upstairs after their days were through. For some reason they wanted to be near her.
In the moments she was lucid and able to convince herself the world around her was real, she dwelled on the Starscourge and Bahamut and what she had promised Ardyn. The promise alone would hold him for a time, but soon he would expect her to make good on her words. If Noctis was to survive, she needed Ardyn's cooperation. But how could she protect her family when she could hardly remember what year it was?
Two weeks passed in this fashion. As per Noctis' specifications, every MT soldier was withdrawn from Lucis.
Since they had complied with the terms of the arrangement—if it could be called that—they were understandably expecting a return of their people. Given that one was dead and the other two had no intention of going back to Niflheim, that posed something of a problem. Noctis addressed it by disregarding all further correspondence from Niflheim. It worked until it didn't.
"Your Majesty! We have reports of imperial ships approaching the Crown City!"
The words caused a stir in the throne room. Half a dozen conversations popped up in the council gallery until her father silenced them with a motion.
"Have they sent any word?" He asked.
"No, Sire. They seem to be maintaining radio silence, but reports suggest they are military transports."
From her place behind the throne she heard her father sigh. She could practically feel his exasperated thoughts for Noctis.
"Diplomatic relations are currently Prince Noctis' domain. Kindly inform him that this situation needs addressing immediately."
"Very good, Your Majesty."
Niflheim was attacking again. Noctis had listed in his ultimatum that they would destroy their Magitek facilities, but even if they had, they still would have had MTs left to them. How many? The Wall was down. She could build it again; her strength was largely recovered. And they had the Kingsglaive still at their disposal, but their numbers were reduced by nearly three-quarters and it had been less than two weeks since the last fight. MTs didn't need time to heal. Kingsglaives did.
It wasn't her problem. Father was right, this was Noctis' mess to clean up. Reina was in charge of nothing and meant to remain that way.
But it was her problem if someone got hurt. If Cor wanted to fight even though his knee still wasn't right and never would be. If Noctis went to solve the problem on his own. If Father thought he was strong enough now that the Wall was gone.
Niflheim needed to be destroyed. She could do that. If she could do nothing else, she could take lives.
She stepped into the shadows and became the darkness she had embraced. From the outside she was nothing save a black shadow of miasma creeping up the throne room walls. From the inside she was everything. She was the scourge and the scourge was everywhere.
It was, for instance, in Noctis' new, if makeshift, office where he sat with Ignis, still blissfully unaware of the situation. It was down Caelum street where Cor had been called along with several other Crownsguards. It was in Clarus' house, where Iris was busy packing necessities to bring back to the Citadel.
And it was inside the Magitek ships that approached Insomnia from the west. In fact, it was practically an epidemic aboard those ships.
She stepped into the shadows onboard, wrapping them around her like a cloak. The ship she leapt to was carrying several dozen MTs. It seemed Lucis' intelligence on the state of Niflheim's Magitek facilities wasn't entirely accurate.
"This is a tactically insane decision. We have no notion what awaits inside Lucis. They destroyed our entire army. They decimated the Diamond Weapon! Do you really believe we can defeat whatever force they have with these few soldiers left to us?" The voice was distantly familiar, but she couldn't place it without a face.
"You have your orders, Tummelt. Carry them out." That was Besithia. So the other was one Loqi Tummelt.
What luck. She had jumped on board the flagship on the first guess.
"They could have an entire army waiting for us down there. They could have living statues!"
In the dark, Reina summoned her naginata.
The flash of violet light drew attention.
"What the hell—"
"It isn't the army you should be worried about," she said.
She sliced up with her naginata, finding satisfaction in the shocked look on Tummelt's face before his guts spilled out in a wet mess.
"It's me." The blade of her naginata slashed across Besithia's throat before Tummelt's body had hit the ground.
That was the snake's head removed. The last sliver of leadership that Niflheim had to turn to. But it would have been remiss of her not to destroy the scraped together shreds of their army as well. After that she could jump to Niflheim and make absolutely certain that this was the last of their MTs.
AN: Quarantine is a good time to read fanfiction. Just sayin'.
