viii

He bursts through the oily darkness, arms thrashing, into the blinding light. As his eyes adjust the visions of his partner's suffering fade from his memory, but the pain remains. He must expel it. But he cannot dive down again, no matter the weight of his heart.

"Let me in!"

The light is too much. The savaged world is too real, its emptiness too stark. The cries of the lost souls and inner grief are deafening, dizzying, devouring his reason (though in truth it had gone too many days ago).

Put the light out, and his scars will stop singing, and he can live again.

Marth jerks up violently from Bowser's lap, nearly inhaling sand.

"His Highness has returned to us," the King rumbles, his mouth twitching into something resembling a smile.

Marth looks speechlessly at Lilina, Pichu and Robin, who have also been joined by the angel Dark Pit, and he almost asks where his light counterpart is before remembering the impostor borne from the Supreme Light—may luck be granted to the spirit who was released from that prison.

"This happened to Roy, too," Lilina smiles, eyes downcast. "But we all made it."

That's when his stomach drops and he almost yells through a desert dry throat, "Where is he?"

She points him to the body on the sand laying just outside his field of vision. He blacks out for a second, thinking Roy is dead, before observing the weak but steady rise and fall of his chest. Pichu spares him a hollow glance before nuzzling further into Roy's side.

Lilina shakes her head in apology. "Thank you for looking after him during the tourney."

"I'm sorry I couldn't do more."

"We all are."

It's true, but it doesn't stop him from looking on at his partner and wondering if this sleep has also subdued his turmoil. If his sleep is sufficient shade from the reality of their failures that covers the entire sky.

You for me, he says to the sun. Take me, free him.

We'd be back where we started. He turns over and pulls the darkness over him again.

"I saw him," Marth whispers, barely louder than the gentle rain so as to not disturb the sleep of the rest, and slow as he tries to reorient himself in the recent and ongoing chaos. "It's not enough that the Light destroyed us all. The visions escape me, now, but he was almost destroying himself in his dreams."

Lilina nods at his side as they lay huddled among the roots of a great tree for the night, not far from the beach, as their weary bodies and spirits warranted. "I know. He showed me. We couldn't speak for so long. There's not much I could have said." Her voice catches and she sniffles before continuing, "It's so hard to know how to help."

"He always had a good poker face," Marth remarks, voice wavering despite himself. He grimaces and is grateful that the night hides their tears before a stray yellow spirit peeks out from behind his shoulder, closer than a spirit has ever been. Its light flickers in Lilina's eyes and she smiles, extending a hesitant hand towards it.

"You're so strong," she whispers as its light caresses her finger. "Just hold on a little longer, okay?"

The light winks as if in reply. Another spirit, emerald in colour, emerges from behind a thick root and joins their circle, settling upon one of the unconscious Roy's scarred hands and spreading its light onto Pichu, seemingly glued to his side. Marth has to swallow a sob, gazing on at the little fragment of life, still here despite everything, still here even if it was in a different way to those who were still able fight their doom.

The yellow spirit alights upon Marth's shoulder. He can almost feel it sitting there, keeping them company. We'll be alright, it says.

"We have to be strong, too, don't we?" he says, because how else can they go on? "What a tragedy."

He notices Lilina staring through him, expressionless and unblinking. "Lilina?"

She convulses at the call of her name. "Did you hear them?" she whispers. "The spirits?"

For a moment, all he can hear is the drone of the night, holding its breath. Eventually, he feels the wind pick up, but the leaves of the great tree remain still. Marth's head begins to whirl until the sound of Lilina's voice rights him.

"I can't hear what they're saying but, maybe we're not so alone after all. We can keep home within our sights."

"It's almost cliche."

"How else could it be?"

He smiles and gazes at their little lanterns of hope. Their flickering dances are hypnotising and he feels his eyelids grow heavy.

At least there's this, he thinks, before even the night fades away.

Marth is back on the edge of the void, looking down into oblivion at his feet. He can do nothing else, the new world abandoned.

A hand, nonetheless larger than he expects, clasps his forearm. His heart nearly stops when he turns to see a redhead half a foot shorter than him at his side.

I'm sorry, his eyes say, shy but determined. We're here, now. There's a darkness behind them, but it's one that is dwarfed by the impossible space surrounding them. He soon sees a certain little mouse Pokémon hidden in his cape.

Marth blinks and the yellow spirit materialises on the younger Roy's shoulder. The green spirit alights on his own. For a moment he sees Lilina and a rainbow ring of spirits, their image refracting behind the diminutive emerald flames, though they might just be his mind compensating for the senses they've left behind.

The world shudders and knocks them to the floor, leaving them dangling on the edge of nothing. They're exposed—trespassers, the world deems. Leave.

The younger Roy presses himself into Marth's side, but neither of them get to their feet. Marth wraps an arm around his companion's shoulders, holding tight until the world ceases roaring. The silence is bliss until a gloved hand bursts through from the void.

The younger Roy launches himself out of Marth's protective embrace and reaches out for the hand. His grip is clumsy and Pichu clamped to his leg weighs nothing, but Marth doesn't move until the hand nearly pulls them both under. He grabs the hand by the wrist and he and Roy pull together, shouting with effort, but the hand sinks as if it's being forced back down. Marth's head spins and lights flicker in his eyes and effort and blood flood his ears as he strains, before they set their feet and tug one more time. They're destabilised as a body flies up from the void. Lilina's braced hand catches them as the world falls down.

A/n: "Ah! How on earth will I finish this vent!fic?!" "Power of friendship?" "Yes!"

(One more chapter to wrap up though, naturally.)