"I c-can't believe it! It's here, it's r-really here!"

While Scirvir was busy rummaging around the temple ruins, Alvira had taken to leaning against a sturdy pillar with a brooding Ostrava by her side. She couldn't be more disinterested in the false deity's domain, only sparing a passing glance to the glyphs carved into the wall and hissing through her teeth in repulsion at the depictions of blasphemous worship drawn there. Furthermore, her suspicions of the vagabond, Scirvir, were only worsening as his fascination with said deity became more apparent, though she was hardly surprised seeing as the man carried a false icon in his very own pocket. He was an ignorant buffoon to put his faith in such things, and while Alvira (barely) abided his continued presence, her patience was beginning to run thin. Not only was the man an imbecile, but he was detracting precious time away from her that could be better spent slaying demons.

"What is that ghastly thing?" Alvira heard Ostrava ask suddenly, pushing himself off the wall to get a better look.

"This is the f-famous D-D-Dragon Bone Smasher I've heard t-tale of! Can you b-believe it? A blunt instrument s-s-supposedly designed to crush the b-bones of d-dragons! Why, it is c-completely and utterly useless!"

Alvira scoffed, though neither of the men heard her.

"… Pardon?" Ostrava sounded about as enthused as Alvira felt herself.

"Ahh, isn't she a b-beauty?" Scirvir sighed happily.

Despite her better judgment, Alvira's own curiosity got the better of her, and she removed herself from the wall to go see what all the fuss was about. And what a sight to behold; a baffled Ostrava was staring at Scirvir, or more so at the weapon he was holding: a sword almost the size of the man himself. It was a gargantuan thing, reinforced steel charred black around the edges from the heat it had endured, sculpted into the shape of a bone. It appeared to be of unimaginable weight. It was a testament to Scirvir's strength that he was able to hold the weapon up so easily. He had it propped against his shoulder as he gazed at it sidelong.

"Perhaps I am missing something, but…" Ostrava tried. "What is the significance of such a weapon?"

"Absolutely nothing!" Scirvir exclaimed. Ostrava slouched his shoulders, his confusion seeming to manifest as physical weight upon him.

"I do not understand you," Ostrava murmured. Scirvir ignored the comment, too enraptured by the candidly hideous weapon he was holding. The absurdity of it all only further fueled Alvira's opinion that the man was irreparably unhinged. She would be thankful when he finally departed from their company.

Scirvir continued to prattle on to Ostrava about the weapon, but Alvira became distracted when a low growl permeated her ears. She turned her head towards the noise, but it was so muffled that it was barely audible. Glancing back at the two men, neither of them seemed to be notably bothered or otherwise aware that any sound had been made. She frowned to herself, taking heed to block out their chatter, and listened more closely. It was faint, but the growling noise was definitely there. Ostrava turned when he noticed Alvira's cautious stance. He held up a finger to hush Scirvir's babble.

"Alvira, what is the matter?" he asked worriedly, but she was so focused that she didn't even acknowledge that he had spoken to her.

Then, that barely audible growl morphed into a deafening roar. Ostrava yelled, putting his hands to his ears as he collapsed to his knees. Alvira and Scirvir simultaneously twisted themselves to face the lava-filled chasm the temple had been built around. Out of the chasm erupted the biggest beast that Alvira had ever seen; the monstrosity stood a staggering one hundred feet, its wings unfolding impossibly long in either direction. The Dragon God locked on to them all with its six glowing red eyes, releasing another furious roar at the intruders to reveal two sets of fangs that were as long as they were tall. A spiked fist came into view as the Dragon God wound it back, then it crashed through rock and stone, completely obliterating the temple surrounding it. The shockwave sent all three of them flying backwards, out of reach of the demon's ferocity, until it otherwise decided to abandon its confines.

"Lord have mercy, what is that monster?" Ostrava panicked, ears ringing so loudly that he could hardly stand. Alvira was completely at a loss on how to deal with such a menacing beast. Forget the fact that she couldn't even begin to venture within the demon's vicinity, but just looking at its armored skin, she knew both her halberd and her bow would be similarly useless against this titan of muscle and sinew.

Suddenly, she felt a dark rage bubble up inside her towards the Monumental and the Maiden in Black; how could they have set her up for something as impossible as this? This thing would pound them all to dust while barely having to lift a finger. Imbued with souls though she may be, nothing would ever make her strong enough to bring down a demon of this magnitude. It made the Tower Knight look completely insignificant, which brought her to question how she could ever hope to defeat the Old One if this was the state of Its prime demons.

She had been doomed to fail the moment she had undertaken this task.

Then Ostrava yelled again, and she found herself jumping between him and the Dragon God's gigantic fist, grabbing him and throwing him out of harm's way before she was crushed beneath the demon's insurmountable strength. Though her armor crumbled, her form remained intact. Once again, the pain did not come. But the feeling of fading…

Madness began to slither into the edges of her mind. Her soul flickered, as if she might disappear. The Binding around her ankle activated.

The Old One will save us all! Uncover your eyes!

She screamed, an inhuman agony overtaking her as she felt pieces of her spirit rip themselves away to dissipate into the ether.

Despair. Disappointment. Loss.

Fury.

A child surrounded by the enemy; the people of her tribe massacred.

You are a child of God now. Come, young one. Take my hand.

Father…?

His body, cold and stiff with rigor mortis, beneath her clamoring hands. A prayer that went unheard.

God, why didn't you save him? He was Your servant!

It hurt. The anger boiled inside of her.

He died because it was God's will.

Why does God make us fight? Why must we die for Him?

"Alvira!"

She froze. That voice. That familiar voice… it was so far away, but it called her from deep within, pulling her back to herself.

Don't forget Him, even in your darkest hour, or you may lose your way as well.

She felt heat. But how was that possible? She was dead.

Her talisman thrummed in her pocket.

… God is our only light…

"Alvira…!"

Ostrava…

Your name means 'Defender.' It was his gift to you.

"I will defend him…"

Hope blazed inside of her, and her talisman burned against her. She could feel God's power, physically feel it. God was here. With her.

"I will defend… everyone!"

Her soul ignited, unleashing blinding light. Ostrava's pained cries died on his tongue. The silhouette of wings sprouted on her back; a halo was placed atop her head. He stared at her in awe.

"You are an angel…"

"Ostrava!" she shouted. Her voice was confident and sure. She threw a shard of archstone at him, which he managed to catch despite the colorful splotches swimming in his vision. "Get out of here! Now!"

"Bu-"

"Go!" she ordered, then he was gone. With Ostrava safe, she could at last focus on bringing this demon down.

Then, she heard Scirvir groan. Much as she disliked the man, she didn't wish to see him consumed by this lumbering atrocity. She rushed over to him, shoving an archstone shard forcibly into his hand.

"Leave," she demanded, not unkindly.

"The fail safes…" he sputtered weakly. "Use the-"

Another earth-shattering roar was followed by a hard punch that Alvira withstood. Scirvir, however, was flipped and thrown onto his stomach. Miraculously, he managed to stay conscious. Alvira ran to him.

"Are you okay?"

Scirvir tried to speak but was interrupted as he coughed up copious amounts of blood. She didn't have time to heal him; if she delayed much longer, he was going to be dead. She closed his hand around the shard she had placed in it and coaxed its power forth. "Seek a man named Sabrathan," she said as he quickly departed. Now that there was nobody in her way, she could get to work hunting down the fail safes he had mentioned. She hoped beyond hope that these weren't just the insane ramblings of the crazed man he had thus far proven himself to be.

"God damn it!" Ostrava cursed as he pounded his fist against the Burrower's archstone. "Fuck!"

He had never been so furious in all his life, nor had he ever felt so worthless. Once more, he was powerless and at the mercy of beings far greater than himself. He couldn't be more mediocre if he tried. She needed help now more than ever and there was absolutely, unequivocally nothing that he could do.

The pitter patter of bare feet on stone caught his attention. He glowered at the black-clad woman standing beside him, giving him her usual dumb, clueless expression.

He couldn't tolerate to be near her. He bumped her shoulder purposefully as he passed, with much more force than was acceptable, but noted that she didn't flinch.

"You are strong, yes?" he asked, back to her. Her head followed him as he descended the stairs, as if she were watching him. "Why did they not send you to fight the demons?"

Predictably, she gave no answer. Of course, he thought bitterly.

The sound of panting and the ruffling of robes filled his still-ringing ears. He turned partially to watch the commotion play out. Sabrathan rushed to a very beaten and bludgeoned Scirvir. He hastily yanked his talisman from somewhere within his robe and pulled the dying man close, free hand placed on his chest. A swathe of radiant light engulfed them both and all Scirvir's visible wounds healed over. He promptly came to, frantic eyes darting back and forth before landing upon the blade at his side. He visibly relaxed.

"Th-thank you," he stuttered weakly to the priest. Sabrathan offered him a waterskin and some herbs, which he greedily consumed.

"What in God's name happened to you?" Sabrathan asked.

Scirvir's fingers wrapped protectively around the ugly weapon, as if the priest might steal it away from him. "Well, it all s-started when I…"

At this point, Ostrava willfully ignored them all. He was too submerged in self-hatred and concern for Alvira to give a damn for Scirvir's predicament. A pettier side of him even blamed him for recent events. Why he had thought it was a good idea to go into that temple was far beyond him; he'd only been asking for trouble. And Ostrava, fool that he was, got caught up in it all and naively followed him into it. Stupid, useless…

"Seems like you're finally coming around," a familiar voice drawled. Great, just who he didn't want to see right now.

"Leave me be," he growled to the crestfallen warrior, not even bothering to look at him. He continued to walk, content to forget the man existed altogether.

"Ah, yes, I can hear it… your shattered resolve," he said teasingly. Without thinking, Ostrava swerved on his feet, grabbing the soul by the front of his soiled armor. He used his other hand to punch him on the cheek. The soul reeled instinctively and clutched at his face, but pain failed to bloom there.

"Why do you taunt me so?!" Ostrava howled, pushing the man away. "Have you no better use of your time?"

"Why do you even care about her?" the soul laughed. "She's nothing, just a fool trying to 'save the world!' She will be used and discarded like a who-"

The man had no time to finish his sentence as he was now on the ground with a sword to his throat. Ostrava crouched over his chest, dragging the man's face forward by his collar. "Say one more word," Ostrava groused, hatred darkening his tone. "And I will kill you."

A vacant smile curled the edges of the man's mouth. "I wish that you could."

Ostrava lifted his head and lowered the man to the floor. His soul was nearly black now, like a shadow embodied. He could barely see him amidst the Nexus' glow. He despised this man, yet he felt pity for him.

He didn't even know his name.

Ostrava's fingers loosened slowly as he stood above him. The man looked up at him, his eyes seeming to shimmer with unspent tears. The effect was lost when a nearby candle blew out.

He was already dead.

Alvira prayed as she stormed through the temple, the Dragon God's claws swiping through its stone pillars like nothing had stood there. A box of wind hurled her forward, dropping her in front of a set of stairs. She crawled up them as the demon's claws split the air above her head. It roared, slamming its hands down upon the ground to bring its massive snout closer, literally sniffing her out. Its breath was expelled as waves of heat, making the air around it swirl hypnotically.

As she ascended the staircase, she was greeted by the sight of an ancient machine carved from obsidian. Out of its barrel, a grand spear protruded, aimed right at the center of the Dragon God's chest. A ballista, she realized, its design primitive though none-the-less effective. A button was clearly visible on the ballista's side. This was undoubtedly the fail safe that Scirvir had mentioned.

She crawled to the device on her belly. The Dragon God rumbled a warning before turning its colossal, flared head away. Its eyes, small when compared to the skull they were set into, blinked rapidly in confusion, searching for its lost prey. Now was her chance.

She hopped up and slammed her fist into the machine, the inner mechanisms whirring to life as the dormant weapon began to emit a blue glow. She heard a spring flip, and then the machine fired. The Dragon God screamed in rage and torment as the spear embedded itself into its shoulder, pinning half of its enormous body to the ground. With its other, unbound half, a mighty scaled arm swooped down upon the machine, reducing it to a pile of rubble. Caught in the crossfire, Alvira's body was pitched several yards before colliding with a stone wall, embedding her a few inches inside of it. Undeterred, she broke free from this makeshift prison with her own augmented strength, dropping to the temple's bottom floor.

The Dragon God, now eye level with her, latched its gaze to her. Its reptilian eyes gleamed with spite, venting a wail loud enough to shake the ground beneath her feet before spewing a wall of fire in her direction. It was unavoidable, an attack that could not be nullified, so she simply ran forward into the flames, allowing herself to be consumed. Piece by piece, her soul fractured, but she could only persist. Her talisman burned hotter even than the Dragon God's fire, and she held onto it as she emerged from the flames. The second fail safe was within her sight.

She charged up the stairs, diving to the machine and activating it before dropping to the ground. The Dragon God squealed as another spear breached its shoulder, matching the first. The lava-filled cavern convulsed violently as its body crashed into the cliffside, splashing the molten liquid in every direction. A giant crater formed as the demon's jaw collided with the hard stone. It seethed, hissing out pained, fiery breath. The demon trained its eyes on her, following each movement as she walked out into the open, navigating the chipping cliff carefully.

Soon, Alvira was standing before the ungodly beast, staring back into its slitted pupils. Great sloughs of blood poured from the Dragon God's wounds, feeding the chasm below. The demon growled at her, though it lacked any of the menace it once carried. It was a frail, broken sound. The demon's eyes began to cloud with oncoming death.

The Dragon God breathed one final, shuttering breath before the light in its eyes finally dulled. Its head fell limply to one side, lower jaw stretching awkwardly under its own immense weight. When her augite began to shine, Alvira knew that the demon was thoroughly defeated.

But her mind was not at peace. Once more, she had doubted her God. Once more, her faith had become weak.

She swore never again to let this happen, yet one look at that demon had nearly undone her.

Could she really do this? Was she strong enough? Had everyone been mistaken to put their trust in her?

… What would the next demon be like?

Heat sparked in her talisman. She pulled it from her pocket, holding it to her chest. It pulsed like it was her very own heart, and her negative thoughts vanished. She looked across the chasm, awash in light. Even in this pit of Hell, God's presence was here to chase away the shadows.

God doesn't make mistakes.

Alvira smiled.

Author's note: And with this chapter, I have finalized the editing process and all of my rewrites are officially complete!

I'll be honest, I had trouble making the Dragon God fight interesting. It is by far one of the most boring, uninspiring fights in all of the Souls series, and that really is quite a shame because the Dragon God also has one of the coolest designs in said series. Hopefully it was bearable. At least it was a good device for me to use to establish some plot.