The Way It Must Be

by The Erudite

Grima has long since been defeated, but questions are left in his wake. Is the world, and are its leaders ready for peace? A strange happening in a port town in Ylisse catches the attention of Exalt Chrom and sets the kingdom on the path of one final conflict that will lead them to discover the answers to all the challenges set before their new world. [Will contain several OCs]

27. When It's Over

Chapter 27

Cyrus was laughing loudly, cleaning his blade on the deceased's clothing, "Haha! Bloody ponce never saw it coming!"

"I wish you'd conduct yourself with a bit more decorum, Cyrus," his superior sighed.

The swordsman smirked, "C'mon, you wouldn't change a thing."

Nihilus glanced at the blade held by his lieutenant, "You're efficient, if nothing else. I do appreciate your virtues where they can be found, it's just that they're few and far between."

"Thanks," the green-haired man grinned, "you can go ahead and kiss my ass."

"I do agree, however," the mauve-haired man conceded after taking a few steps to inspect the room, "that was almost unbelievably easy. The man didn't even have a single guard posted at his door."

"I think I could make a good career out of this whole 'assassin for hire' thing," Cyrus played with his sword a bit more.

"Not anytime soon," his superior corrected him, "We're only doing this to move things along, remember that."

"Yeah," the swordsman kicked his target in the head, "That's what he gets for bein' a stubborn ol' bump in the road."

Nihilis nodded, "I find it gets harder to be patient every passing day. The desire to fulfill my vision pulls at me with each waking moment."

"I get that," Cyrus laughed, "I'm not much for temperance, either."

"Excuse me," the pair lifted their heads. A woman with hair in the color of spring roses drifted into the doorway, her arm rested on the pommel of a sword clipped to her belt. Her dress was a curious mixture of refinement and simplicity: she wore an elaborate Chon'sin-styled overcoat, but beneath it were the clothes of Feroxi or Plegian plainfolk, tan and brown.

Cyrus stepped forward and drew his sword, pointing it at her with a menacing scowl, "Don't make any trouble for yourself, girly. Out with ya."

The mysterious woman frowned at him, took a step forward and, in the blink of Nihilus's eye, was beside him, chokeslamming him to the floor. "Whoever you are," she hissed, "I didn't come for your condescension, I came for him." The woman stood and turned to face Nihilus, who was watching with folded arms.

The green-haired swordsman leapt to his feet, red-faced and aiming his sword, but Nihilus halted him by calling his name and holding up his palm, "It seems the lady has something to discuss."

"Indeed," she nodded. Cyrus groaned and took a step back, lowering his weapon. "Master Nihilus," the rose-haired woman spoke, "I have come a great way seeking you."

"And why is that?"

"I have heard tell of your designs for our world, and of your past. I feel that we are kindred spirits; of like minds, you see."

"My past? Your meaning eludes me, dear girl."

"I know you'd prefer not to speak of it, I comprehend your shame, but I know it all the same. Regardless, I will return to myself: I come from Rosanne. As you may know, the women of Rosanne are much beloved and sought-after around the world for their sensuousness. 'A perfect woman is Rosannien,' this is tautology, no?"

"What are you getting at?"

"My point, good sir, is that some Rosannien women, such as myself, are a bit... too sought-after. Ones such as these become... commodities."

Nihilus's brow tightened, "Ah, I see. And so that is why you have come?"

"Indeed," she nodded, "I would like to show my sisters strength. I wish to be their light in the dark, as you have been to so many already."

"Sure, a washed-up whore. That's just what we need in our ranks," Cyrus scoffed.

The woman's eyes were already cutting him to ribbons as her hands drifted to her sword. "Cyrus, that's quite enough!" the amethyst-haired man scolded, "You moved faster than the fastest man in my employ, that makes you a subject of interest. I will subject you to rigorous training, however."

"I am willing to undergo all in milord's name," she bowed her head.

Nihilus's nostrils flared as he gave an amused sigh, "A bit formal, aren't you? Prithee, good lady, what's your name?"

"Please call me Dahlia, sir," she requested.

"Very well," the man nodded, "I look forward to seeing what you're capable of, Dahlia."

[*]

"You bitch!" Dahlia's heels dug into the dirt beneath her as Falchion slammed against her own blade. Exalt Chrom's strike was so powerful it seemed to have its own gravity, sinking her whole body as it pushed down on her. Sweating, she gave up and broke the lock, jumping back. "You're not getting away!" he grabbed vainly for her clothing, his fist crushing the air before her.

"Concede now," she told him, doing her best to make her voice firm and intimidating. She even physically lowered her throat to alter the pitch. The exalt didn't see at all unnerved, however: he stabbed forward immediately, and she only barely skipped out of the way. "It's hopeless," she pressed on, "victory is unachievable. You will fail."

"Shut up!" Chrom slashed again, followed by another narrow evasion. "You can't keep dodging forever!" he told her, swiping horizontally this time.

"I can for longer than you can keep swinging," she jumped back again. She was a trifle too slow, however, and received the exalt's fist in her face as punishment. She fell back, covering her face. The pair were removed from the rest of the fighting, their respective lines clashing just behind them. The Rose Blade began to feel her stomach churn and an icy sensation grip her chest as Exalt Chrom's shadow stretched over her.

"I wish I could say it pains me to do this," the exalt said, holding his sword over her. He thrust it down toward her stomach.

But Falchion was knocked loose from his hands and spun off in a lethally rapid circle until it stuck in the ground behind the exalt. Chrom grunted angrily and looked up for the source of the interference. His eyes narrowed a bit when he spotted it. "Exalt Chrom," a pair of dark eyes looked back into his, "You really are an incorrigible sort. You refuse to accede to my demands, you break out of my holding facility, and now... Now I find you trying to impale one of my best. Simply unacceptable. You are surely a blight on this world of ours."

"I'm a blight?!" he shouted, "What about you? You've been starting wars left and right, enveloping countries into deadly conflicts, all for what, your own sick amusement?"

The amethyst-haired man scowled, "I serve a higher purpose than you could ever know. Growing up in your lofty castles, sending men to die in your stead, you could never know true pain. Not you, not your blackhearted father, not your patronizing whore of a sister, and certainly not that little lapdog you call your daughter!"

"Is that what this has all be about?" Chrom scoffed, "You don't intimidate me. You're nothing but scum. Scum that's gotten to thinking it's a bit too big for its pond, but you're still nothing."

Nihilus's eyes were as sharp as swords. "If you've no fear," he put away the green tome in his hands and withdrew his blade, "then have at you."

"Gladly," Chrom turned to reach for Falchion, but a certain rose-haired woman was holding it up and chuckling at him. The exalt whirled back around to his other foe, "You'd disarm me and then challenge me to a duel? You really are nothing but a coward."

"Bite your tongue, you wretch," Dahlia hissed at him.

"No," Nihilus smiled, "the exalt is quite right." The amethyst-haired man dropped his sword and pulled off his cloak, flinging it to the ground. He put up his fists, "I want to enjoy this."

Chrom jolted into a fighting stance, more than a little caught off guard, but trying to convince his enemy he was prepared nonetheless, "All right then, let's go." Nihilus threw his first punch. It connected.

[...]

"Regna Ferox," Robin sighed, "somehow, it seemed I'd never see it again. It feels almost unnatural to be back."

"In fairness, we did break a few maritime laws, so our speed is a bit unnatural," Steven smiled, stowing away his wind tome.

"May the gods forgive us," Morgan rolled her eyes. The group descended the gangplank together, still marked by scars, scratches and wounds from their previous encounter, but they had made it this far. The Grandmaster looked to his children, who had worked themselves through the night to keep up the blistering pace of their newly-commandeered ship. Their labor would be vindicated by this success: Ylisstol was only a few days' march away. Something left the Grandmaster unsettled, however: "Regna Ferox was on that map, too. Do you suppose Nihilus has left it yet?"

"It's been a week since we found that damned note of his, so yes," Leo decided.

Robin nodded, "Then maybe I'll let you all go, and I'll inspect Ferox for myself."

"What?!" Anna started, "Nuh-uh. You're not going anywhere without me, buddy."

"Seems silly, daddy," Sylvia added, "Near as I can tell, you're the main event for our friend. I think he'll be disappointed if you don't show."

"Exactly," Robin smiled, "Why don't we exercise Nihilus's patience a bit?"

"That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard you say, pop," Leo folded his arms, "and that's sayin' something."

Steven nodded, "As much as it pains me to say so, I concur with Leo. What could such an exercise possibly stand to gain?"

The Grandmaster dipped his head, staring at the ground beneath his feet for a moment before lifting his eyes to the circle convened around him, "Nihilus wants two people: Chrom and me. If he doesn't have one of us, he won't be satisfied until he gets that one. If you all show up without me, that should be enough to throw him off. Then you can support Chrom until I arrive, hopefully with some Feroxi rebels in tow. That's when we can bring this to an end."

"Or," Inigo interjected, penetrating the circle, "and just hear me out, here—you could come with us, we could all wipe Nihilus out together, and when we've recovered sufficient strength, we can return to Regna Ferox and sort that problem when we're good and ready."

Robin smiled, "It's all right, Inigo, I get it: they're your family and your country, you don't want to wait. That's why I'm telling you to go now. In all likelihood, a strong bunch like you won't even need the help of a gray-maned codger like me. So go, take my daughter, as well as her siblings, and save your family. You have my utmost confidence."

"You..." Inigo's eyes narrowed, "I'm beginning to understand some of father's stories better now: you are stubborn beyond belief."

"He's right," heads turned to Morgan, finally joining the group, "The stupidest thing we could do is give Nihilus exactly what he wants. That's why he centered his big coup d'état on Ylisstol: he thought we'd all assemble there in short order to confront him, my dad and yours among us. Instead, we've been on the fringes, upending plan after plan of his, destroying all the threads he's established, and there's only one left to sever before he's on his own."

"I couldn't have said it better myself," the Grandmaster concluded.

"Morgan," Inigo murmured, staring at the ruby-haired girl, "All right. If you think this... insanity has some merit, I'll trust your judgement. Everyone had better be prepared, though: we'll only have one chance to do this right."

"Agreed," Robin nodded, "Anna, I think it's time for the Platinum Package."

"Eh?" the redhead pressed her finger to her lips, "Oh! That's right, the 'Platinum Package!'" Amid perplexed stares and shifting of the eyebrows, Anna produced a glittering card from a pocket at her side. She presented it to Inigo, "I've got a sister who runs a shop on the Ylisse-Ferox border, three miles west of the Longfort. Give this to her, she'll know what it means."

"Er, thank you," the prince pocketed the item.

"Well, I guess this is goodbye for now, kids," Robin folded his arms for a moment as he thought the prospect over. As he thought, he offered his hand to them, instead. Steven and Leo each took the hand and gave it one heavy shake, thanking their father. Sylvia bypassed the hand and wrapped her arms around her father, pecking him on the cheek and demanding that he be safe. Morgan stood at a safe distance and nodded to him. He reciprocated, and finally turned to Anna, who continued to stand beside him.

"I said I wasn't going anywhere without you and I meant it," she planted her heels, "You ducked me once when I was working, but I'm not gonna let that happen again."

"You're sure?" he frowned.

"Absolutely."

"Very well," he took her hand, "I can't think of a better traveling companion."

"Let's hurry."

[...]

Chrom held his arms vertically in front of his face to shield himself from a flurry of quick jabs thrown by his opponent. Nihilus shifted and aimed an uppercut beneath the new defense, which Chrom sidestepped to avoid, but the exalt was caught by a left hook almost as quickly. He fell and staggered back to his feet, ear throbbing from the hit, "How...?"

"Keep your head up," Nihilus told him, jabbing the lord in the stomach. The exalt fell to his knees again. "Or, better yet," the amethyst-haired man chuckled, "don't. You can choose to volunteer your life to me, too. Personally, I think you'll save yourself considerable agony that way."

Chrom propped his left knee up and used the momentum to aim a punch at the clairvoyant's stomach, but his foe avoided it with ease and kicked the standing exalt in the face, knocking him a few steps back. Chrom closed back in and threw a few punches on each side, but these were all easily blocked, and the last and slowest of the bunch was interrupted by a punch that made the exalt bite his tongue and filled a corner of his mouth with blood. "Y-You bastard..." he panted, wiping his bloodied lip, "how can you... move like that?"

"I am the knower of that which is unknowable, Exalt Chrom," the amethyst-haired man punched: this was blocked by Chrom, "Nothing escapes my sight. I know everything you're about to do before you do it."

"What," Chrom threw a right hook that was blocked, "a load of... pegasus sh—" A hook from the left shook his jaw and the exalt toppled again.

"Poor blind nobleman," Nihilus shook his head, "unable to see any truth looking down your nose. No matter: what you believe has no bearing on reality, if that wasn't already obvious." Chrom stood once more and attacked. His punch was caught, and the amethyst-haired man's grip tensed around it, such that a crunching noise emerged from the palm that prompted the exalt to shout. He tried to withdraw the hand, but within seconds, his opponent's other fist came forward to seize his upper arm, and the one gripping his hand relocated to his wrist. Feeling the tension and torsion applied by each, Chrom growled as his tendons bent and a sharp snap emanated from the arm. He was given a light shove to the stomach, and then the exalt stood, doubled over, clutching his limp arm, staring into the eyes of the clairvoyant before him.

"What the hell are you?" Chrom commanded.

"A man with a grievance," Nihilus seized the sapphire-haired lord by the throat and tensed the muscles in his hand again. Chrom began to sputter.

Nihilus's vision faded to white for a moment and he saw a flash of pink hair dart at him from the crowd at his side, the gleam of a sword marring his eye. Was Dahlia about to betray him? Why? No—it was...!

The clairvoyant jumped out of the way within a second of Olivia's sword slicing the air where he had been standing a moment ago. He shook his head and shrugged, "Why do people always insist on making these things difficult? You could put a hundred soldiers in front of your precious exalt and I'd kill them all to end him."

"I'm not a soldier," Olivia held her blade out; it shook as did her hands, "I'm his wife."

"That's right," Nihilus tapped his forehead, "The 'Coward Queen,' isn't that what they called you? Not in your lovely golden palaces, of course, but in the dwellings of real human beings, rather than the paper dolls you parade around in lambswool."

"I-I may be shy, yes," she choked, "b-but... I'd never be scared by you."

"I can fix that," he shut his eyes, smiling to himself.

"Don't delude yourself, cad," their heads turned as Lucina also emerged from the crowd.

[...]

Sylvia huffed, feeling her throat become hot and dry. The heat was also channeling up through her cheeks as her slowly tiring feet beat a steady rhythm in trying to keep up with her siblings. "Must we... run all the way there?" she demanded between gasps of air.

"If we wanna be there on time, yeah," Leo responded, "I'm not gonna be known as the assassin who didn't do squat while the exalt of Ylisse was murdered in his own homeland."

"What does being an assassin have to do with that?" his sister wondered.

"Nothin', strictly speaking," he answered, "but my Brotherhood, they wouldn't be happy about this if they found out I wasn't around."

"I beg your pardon, but your Brotherhood hasn't been very prolific in its duties, Leo," Steven said, "Where was all that nonsense about maintaining order and keeping power reigned in? What have they done to stop Nihilus?"

"It's different," the assassin scowled, "Neither Nihilus nor his buddies were a threat until he started antagonizing Chrom directly, and the Brotherhood thought it was over when I axed that first lunatic who overtook the capital in Nihilus's name. They're only just getting ready to act now."

"In the last moments of the struggle? How courteous of them," the silver-haired man rolled his eyes.

Leo shoved his brother, making him stumble as they ran, "Despite the extent of our reach, we're a small organization, not a country, all right? We don't have the resources to go to war, only to take out immediate threats at the most opportune moments."

"This moment is one hell of an opportunity," Morgan interjected.

"Too right," her brother nodded, "that's why I pulled some strings."

"Say what?" Sylvia rasped.

The five adolescents drew to a halt as they heard the sound of a hawk screeching overhead and several dark shadows emerge from nearby ridges. "Watch!" Morgan commanded with a stern whisper, holding her fiancé back with her hand against his chest. The others waited in silence. Leo chuckled and took a few steps forward, in spite of a few whispered protests from his siblings. "You don't get it?" he laughed at all of them. The shadowy figures began to descend the ridges, climbing down rock faces easily or simply slipping down hills nearby until they started to amass near the small group. Morgan put her hand on her sword as their obscured faces approached. Leo stopped her, "Morg, they ain't here to hurt us. This... this here's the cavalry."

"What?" she responded dumbly.

Steven began to search the faces of the men and women encircling them, which remained difficult due to the shrouds covering their eyes, "You don't mean to tell me...?"

One of the men approached Leo, leaning in closely, "C'é un problema, fratello?"

"No, nessun problema. Sono... ignaro," the assassin replied.

"What are you two saying?" Sylvia demanded.

Leo grinned, "You're not the only one who speaks other languages. It's okay, Rondine."

The man beside Leo lowered the white hood that covered his face so that the group could see his green, catlike eyes and the thinning jet-black hair that lay short and flat on his head, complimenting the robust strip of similarly-colored hair that extended down in a single, wide column from his bottom lip. He glanced at the other four people staring back at him and then nodded his head, apparently reaching some conclusion, "So... these are all your family?"

Leo shifted his head, double-checking, "Blue Boy over there is only my brother-in-law, but the rest are all related, yeah."

Rondine cocked an eyebrow, "If I'm not mistaken, the signore with the blue hair is Exalt Chrom's son, yes?"

"Quite," Inigo agreed, "May I ask who you are, precisely?"

"No," the man glared at him, "we are... fratelli to your Leo. You understand this, yes?"

"Not exactly," Morgan admitted.

"The word in the Common Tongue is 'brothers,' Rondine," Leo told him.

"Sì," the older man nodded, "we are Leo's brothers. He works for us, and, in turn, we support him. Such is the case at the moment."

Steven watched the man intensely, "That means you're Leo's Brotherhood, correct?"

Leo answered for him, "Yes... you're looking at the Ylissean branch of The Brotherhood of the White Talon."

"White Talon?" Morgan repeated, "I've heard that name before... I was trying to get ahold of an artifact and some member of theirs was protecting it... Um, I mean, uh..."

"We've all heard of them," the silver-haired man folded his arms and glared at Rondine, "Or, even if we haven't, we know of their works one way or another. Mr. Rondine's has been at this job for quite a long time, as has the rest of his organization."

"I cannot claim full responsibility," the older assassin shook his head, staring directly at Steven now, "I am only another... how do you say, wheel in the apparatus?"

"Cog in the machine," Leo corrected, "but yes, the work's not important. They're going to help us fight alongside Chrom, all right, so can we cut the questions and get a move on?"

"I suppose," Morgan decided, cupping her chin.

"She doesn't speak for the rest of us," Steven protested.

Leo shoved his brother again, "What the hell's your deal, Steve? You don't gotta like 'em, they're just here to help us do our job."

"I know," he folded his arms, "just make Mr. Rondine aware that I will be watching his movements carefully, and I will not tolerate anything external to our efforts to end Nihilus."

Rondine bowed his head and looked over at Leo, "Il curoe dell'uomo argento è appanato." Leo didn't answer, but also lowered his head.

"If you're finished insulting my brothers and sisters," Leo cracked his knuckles, "we've still got a long ways to go before we hit Ylisstol."

"Right," Morgan nodded, "we should keep moving." Leo took point as the assassins gathered behind to follow him, although Rondine ran beside him, matching his pace. The remaining quartet fell in after the young assassin, hurrying toward the border.

[...]

Lucina lunged forward with her rapier, but her foe was to nimble and the first strike missed its mark. The amesthyst-haired man gave them an insulting laugh as Olivia tried a quick sweep with her own blade that was just as easily dodged. The pair thought to attack together, but that only resulted in Nihilus stepping out of the way once more to watch the two women very nearly dig their swords into each other's throats. The pair then tried a new tactic: Lucina hurried around their foe until each woman was on the opposite side of the amethyst-haired man. He shook his head, "Ah, trying to flank me? An impossible trap in my situation. Well played." The two looked at one another in confusion, but quickly decided to lunge forward with their weapons, Olivia hesitating a second later than Lucina so that they could avoid each other if he somehow managed to avoid the assault.

As their focus was diverted, Chrom crept over to Falchion and pulled it out of the dirt with his good arm.

Nihilus was not able to avoid the attack. Rather, steel met steel as Lucina looked up to see Dahlia's blade interrupting the path to Nihilus's exposed back. Olivia had been tripped and now struggled to lift herself out of the sod. Nihilus put his boot down on her stomach. Lucina struggled to break her deadlock with the Rose Blade, but as hard as she pushed, the woman across from her seemed to be bearing down with twice her strength. Eventually, the princess was shoved backward. "D-Dammit!" she cursed. The enemy was simply too fast, how could they hope to fight on like this. If, perhaps, the entire army could face him together, they might stand a chance, but the whole of the Ylissean and Plegian militaries were busy combatting the mercenary forces. There was really no hope of a one-on-one victory against this man. Lucina's mind raced: they needed something different, a new strategy, some way of looking at the problem that made this all seem possible, but what could they do? Was there any way to even weaken a man who could see their every move?

"Is it finally sinking in?" the man shook his amethyst locks back and forth, "Your struggles are in vain."

"Th-That..." Lucina protested.

Chrom ran forward and swung Falchion at the clairvoyant while his back was turned. Nihilus stuck his foot out and tripped the exalt, who collapsed into a pile of dust, the shimmering blade falling flat beside him. "Why do you never learn?!" Nihilus shouted, putting his boot back on Olivia's stomach. He pressed down and made her groan, "You bourgeois imbeciles! You look ahead of you, but you don't use your eyes! The future is so lamentably predictable, and yet you're all blind to it. I'm not gifted or special, I don't have a curse brought on by my mother's blood, I'm no great sage wielding mystical power... unlike you all, I'm simply a man with the vision to see what will become of the world... and I protest the path I see it heading down without me!"

"You're nothing but a warmongering coward!" Lucina shouted, "Do you think I forgot the day I first saw you, all those weeks ago, when you murdered an entire civilian population? What did they do to deserve that?!"

Nihilus drove his foot down sharply, making Olivia cough. She rolled over and clutched stomach, taking deep breaths as Nihilus moved toward the sapphire-haired princess. She held out her rapier, but the amethyst-haired man caught her with a quick right hook and knocked her down. "They were in the way," he spat.

"Lord Nihilus," the Rose Blade coughed beside him. He picked his head up and glanced at her, "Don't you think we should finish our objective."

He exhaled, staring at the fallen royals for a moment, then his shoulders sagged, "Right you are, Dahlia." The clairvoyant walked over to Chrom, whose eyes barely remained open as blood had begun to run in streaks down his face. Nihilus reached past him and picked up Falchion, examining the glint of the blade in the sunlight. He sheathed the blade at his side, "This has been most amusing, Exalt Chrom, but I believe I must bid you farewell. I have a wish to make." The sapphire-haired lord reached a limp hand out toward his foe, but it fell just as quickly as he extended it. "Bind them and bring them to the castle," Nihilus ordered his lieutenant, "Once the Fire Emblem is mine, I'll begin my rule with three public executions."

"At once, milord," Dahlia complied.

"F-Father," Lucina croaked, "Why... why does he want Falchion and the Emblem? I thought... only those of our bloodline could interact with them."

"F-Falchion," he sputtered, "the blade is useless without royal blood, but... the Emblem... the Emblem was always so much more dangerous... Falchion is merely the key to retrieving the Emblem. Make no mistake, Lucina: if he gets his hands on it... our chances of ending this war... disappear."

"That's enough," Dahlia shoved his face into the dirt.

The purple-haired man entered the chamber with a grin. He pressed his palms up against the walls once more and shifted the stone, giving way to the secret entrance. Holding a torch in one hand, he brought the legendary sword up in the other and placed it into the indentation on the wall. The wall glowed with a pallid blue, then slid down and disappeared into the floor before his feet. Nihilus lofted the torch and walked down a set of stairs and through a dark, claustrophobic corridor until he arrived at the object of his desire: the shield glittered gold in the meager torchlight, radiant enough by itself, and inside it, five gemstones pulsed with vibrant colors. The clairvoyant drew near, visions flooding into his head: he could hear the shield speaking to him. It was calling out, yearning to have its power used; it glowed with an increasingly lascivious light as he approached. He saw himself hoisting the Emblem up on his arm, legions bowing before him, the faces of those he despised now dropping in his worship. Electricity coursed through the man's veins as he reached out and touched the item, chills leaving trails of goosebumps along his arms.

All of his planning.

All of the killing.

All of the pain he had endured.

The sickness he had felt.

The uncertainty, the anxiety.

The fear, the hatred.

The suffering.

And now, pure, sweet, unrepentant bliss.

Vengeance.

Retribution.

Vindication.

He picked up the shield and slipped his arm through the guard, "O mighty Naga, you whose power fills this artifact, reveal yourself to me, that I might partake of your power."

The iridescent form of the spirit of Naga suddenly materialized before him, glittering like so many sapphires, aquamarines, and emeralds as she stared back, almost perplexed by him. Without a word, the amethyst-haired man saw himself enveloped in blue flame, and he cried out, but he remained still as the flames licked at him and wound around his arms and legs. In what seemed to be only a second of intense, white-hot pain, the sensation disappeared, and darkness claimed the room.

"Be welcome, Awakener. When held against the trial of my holy fire, your will has proven to burn the stronger. Now... what do you come seeking of me?"

[...]

Robin felt a twinge whip up his spine, stopping the Grandmaster in his tracks. He felt profoundly cold all of a sudden, and his eyes narrowed as the feeling spread through his body. His wife noticed and stopped, several steps ahead, and ran back to him, supporting his stomach and back, "Baby, what's the matter? What happened?"

"Something," he regarded the sky gravely, "is very wrong."

[...]

A figure cloaked in blood red stood atop a lonely crag, purple and brown shaded as dusk began to descend upon it, and watched as the castle at Ylisstol was struck by what seemed to be a sudden flash of pure blue lightning.

"Do-or-die time, everyone."

"That's really it, huh?"

"The moment we've all been waiting for... and avoiding."

"Alpha... and Omega."