Day 45:

She still didn't sleep well. Perhaps when this was all over it would go away. Perhaps it never would. Perhaps she would spend the rest of her life dreading the dark that came after dusk and waiting for the sun to rise. For now it was a necessary evil. In those hours she attempted to Dream. Attempted, because thus far she had yet to succeed. At every turn Bahamut blocked her and fed her truths she spent all day trying to avoid. She was leading her friends and family into danger. Because of her, they could all die.

But a part of her was relieved that she couldn't Dream. A part of her woke after every failed attempt and breathed a little more easily, knowing she wouldn't have to try again until tomorrow night and even then she hoped she would never have to fall into the future again.

As a child she had feared her Dreams for the terrifying truths they laid bare and for their wild and uncontrollable nature. Now she feared them because the terrible future was often so indistinguishable from the present that she wouldn't even think to check if she was awake. That fear drove her to check, time and time again, that she was truly awake. Every time the thought crossed her mind, she reached out to test the tethers that bound her to her physical form. The tethers that hadn't existed for the last ten years of her life. So far, she had always found herself to be awake.

She waited for the sun to rise, hugging her arms in spite of the warmth of the desert. It would rise. Logically she knew that.

"Slipped away from your babysitter, have you?" Ardyn's voice split the quiet.

Reina turned abruptly and found him right behind her. She hadn't heard him approach. In all likelihood he hadn't approached, but appeared.

"He's still asleep."

Cor would be cross if he woke and she wasn't in the room anymore, but she was willing to risk his ire. A perverse part of her appreciated it. For the past six years she had thought back wistfully on the first year of her Dream, when Cor would shout at her and lecture her at every turn in a clumsy attempt to express some sort of concern. He was angry because he was worried about her. Later he hadn't even done that. He had turned away and avoided her at all costs.

They stood in silence, watching the sky grow pale in the east. She fixed her eyes on the growing light until it was too bright to look at.

"I note that, in spite of your full set of royal arms, you still struggled to bring down thirty one Messengers yesterday," Ardyn said lightly. "Could it be that you need help after all?"

Of course he would bring that up. After telling her she was being an idiot when she left Caem. He had every right.

She had returned to Cartanica station with a full set of ten royal arms. In her Dream, there had been thirteen, but one had belonged to her father—who was no longer dead and therefore had no spectral sword to lend her—one had been the Oracle's Trident—which was presumably still in Lunafreya's care and when last they had met she had been disinclined to help Reina—and the last had been the Blade of the Mystic.

They had visited Somnus' tomb inside the Disc of Cauthess in this lifetime. But instead of building a bond with him, Reina had given his corpse to Ardyn—to be consumed by the Starscourge. He deserved worse. She meant to give it to him, but not yet.

Not yet.

"What took you so long to follow me?" She asked.

"Oh, I decided to stick around for awhile. Watch the chaos unfold. Get the boat in the water, so to speak, and point them in the right direction."

Reina's mind skipped a beat. "What?"

He smiled. "Did you think they found their way to you on accident? Don't be foolish, little Dreamer."

In the moment, all she had felt was relief. After that had faded away along with the warm, fuzzy afterglow of finding herself standing among friends, she had wondered how they found her. But when he had refused to help and stayed behind instead of following after, she had never imagined Ardyn would possibly tell them where she was going. Not once. Why would he? It didn't make any sense.

"Why?"

His smile vanished. "I grew bored of your inane crusade."

"You brought them here because you want them to die?!"

"Gods, no. I couldn't care less if they died."

"What, then?"

He fixed her with a curious look. "You are being intentionally dense, little Dreamer."

"I don't understand—"

"Are you going to make good on your promise and kill the Draconian with me?" He took a step toward her.

"Yes."

"And then what, little Dreamer? Will you let me kill dear Noctis?" Another step.

"Of course not."

And another. "No? And just how do you intend to stop me? Will you kill me yourself? You know what that costs, little Dreamer. And you promised Daddy-dearest."

"I don't want to kill you, either."

He leaned over her, putting on a look of mock pity. "At least one of us has to die, little Dreamer."

She had been staring at him, confused but unmoving as he drew ever closer. Now the pieces began to fall into place.

"And you want to make sure you're one of them," she said.

His eyes widened—just briefly, a flicker of surprise—before his expression hardened. "Not until I've had my revenge."

"You don't want revenge on Noctis."

"Oh, by all means, little Dreamer, please enlighten me: what do I want?"

"You want revenge on Bahamut and Somnus. You want the crystal destroyed so none of this ever happens again. And when all of that is done you want to close your eyes and fall into everlasting sleep, knowing your work is done and peace is waiting."

Again that flicker of surprise, though this time it was replaced by annoyance as he leaned back.

She caught him, hands on either side of his face. "You can have all of those things. Stay with me. We'll see this through to the end, just like we did last time. And when everything is over, we'll leave the world a better place than it has been for the last two thousand years. We'll leave it in good hands, with a king beholden to no gods. His children will grow up knowing what you did for them, knowing what jealousy between brothers and a thirst for control can do to the world."

"Why should I care what state I leave the world in?"

"You don't have any reason to care. No good ones, at least. And yet you do, don't you? I used to be a protector; now I'm a killer, stealing away the life of anyone who could harm what I love. You used to be a healer. It's a short leap from a doctor to a surgeon, cutting out the black heart of taint and leaving the world pure again."

Word by word, the irritation faded into uncertainty.

"We can't undo the past," she said. "But we can serve justice and set the future so it never happens again."

He stared at her for a long time. The look on his face was unfamiliar to her, like a want buried so deep she had never known it existed. He had never known it existed.

"How?" He said at last.

"First we kill Bahamut. The rest will follow. But know that I know that you have always been the one trying to set the world right while the rest of us fought for the enemy."