So hi guys, and thanks for tuning into the next chapter of NR! (:

Once again, thanks to all the love you give this fic! The constant stream of "alerts" that hit my email are really something, whether you review (btw, you rock, Oscar), favourite, or alert this story - they really inspire me to keep going.

This chapter is mainly erm, mythology and character development based - there was action planned, but well, you'll see. Enjoy as always!

Chapter 30: The Creators

Serah felt a stiff breeze lift the ends of her hair as she walked hand in hand with Snow across the small causeway, her feet making almost no sound against the smooth cobblestones. The Cathedral of Angels glittered a gaudy gold just up ahead, and its sheer size looked intimidating.

"Snow?" He looked down at her, twinkling blue eyes expectant.

"What, baby?"

She felt herself gripping his fingers tighter; avoiding looking at him, she focused on her sister's pink hair several feet in front of her. "What do you think... we'll find there?"

He shrugged nonchalantly. "Not sure. But your hero's got this, so don't you worry, aight?"

She wasn't convinced. "But Snow... the papers you erm, 'borrowed' from the library... If the Maker really did leave Pulse from there, wouldn't that make it a very powerful place?" Serah tried not to sound scared.

"Ha! Nothing we can't handle." He gave her a confident thumbs up. "Remember, we took down Orphan, so we can handle anything they throw at us, hm?"

"I seem to remember you saying that in Lake Bresha, Snow. Where did you end up again? Oh yeah, the Cavalry picked you up before PSICOM got to you." Lightning's irritated snap broke into their conversation.

"Shut up, Sis. Who saved your back in Palumpolum?" Snow sounded just as indignant. Here we go again...

"Yeah, Snow? I seem to remember rescuing you from that Ushumgal Subjugator. So you shut up. We don't need to be overconfident walking in there." There was an awkward moment as Lightning and Snow both glared at each other, before she turned and crossed her arms, Snow with his mouth open, clearly trying to come up with a comeback.

Serah suppressed a smile before going over to embrace him. "Don't worry, I believe you," she murmured gently into his coat. A warm hand trailed down her cheek, caressing it gently.

"That makes one of us," he replied softly, enveloping her hands in his again. She felt him brush back a stray tendril of cherry coloured hair. "Love you, baby."

She laughed, tip toeing to press her lips to his neck. "Silly. I love you too."

Breaking apart before her sister could snap another nasty remark in their direction, Serah danced happily towards her, Snow following closely. She saw Lightning frown at her happy expression.

"Just what do you have to be so happy about?" Her question held more surprise than rebuke. Serah gently smoothed down a strand of her sister's pink hair before moving out of reach - Lightning looked both appeased and embarrassed.

"Nothing," she quipped happily, enjoying the dubious look on her sister's face. "But it's better to be happy than all gloomy and sad all the time. So cheer up, Claire. It's not like we're your commanding officers or anything."

Her sister let out a snort before rolling her eyes, muttering something under her breath Serah couldn't catch. Snow's laugh sounded by her ear before his arms wrapped around her.

"You know, you're the only one who can say stuff like that to her without getting slapped." Serah giggled, resting her hands on his.

"I know. That's why I said it."

And even if it was meant to be a joke... Claire needs to take it seriously. Because she walks around all day like we're in the middle of a war. It's not that that's not true... but with Snow and her... somehow I don't feel threatened much at all. And maybe that's selfish and naive, always relying on them to protect me. And maybe it's because they know I can't do much in return, and don't expect me to fight. I know I don't have to shoulder the responsibility... which isn't fair. I know that.

But Claire... and Snow. One day, I will return everything you've given me. Somehow. I promise.

Snow carefully eased the door to the cathedral, instinctively wincing in anticipation of a groan of rusty doors. Instead, the door swung open smoothly, revealing the dim inner of the place. His own footsteps suddenly sounded too loud, and Snow could have sworn he could hear his own heartbeat echoing off the walls.

For a place that looked so big from the outside, it felt unassuringly claustrophobic. The air inside was musty, but not with the scent of decay. There was a slight perfumed scent in the air that made it seem stuffier than it should have been, and the hallway was long and narrow, gilded with gold. He felt Serah worm her fingers out of his before cautiously approaching one of the many portraits and statues that lined the walls. He followed her over as she looked up at the nearest one.

"It's Pulse," he heard her whisper. Looking up, his eyes traveled over the painting, done in mute colours and shades. But it was obvious to any viewer - the wild world of Gran Pulse. He could see a small green marble in the top left corner, slightly out of place in the untamed reds and browns that dotted the landscape. Cocoon. His eyes raked down the picture, coming to a stop at the burnished bronze plaque at the bottom of it.

"The World's Creation. Lindzei, Pulse, and Etro." The names were unfamiliar on his tongue, except, of course, for 'Pulse'.

He felt Serah lean back against him. "Who are Lindzei and Etro?"

Snow shrugged. "I dunno. Let's keep moving and look at the rest." Leading her by the hand, he moved several feet to his right, coming to a stop beside the next portrait. Their soft footsteps seemed too loud, and he could hear the hushed voices of Lightning and Hope from somewhere behind him. Snow felt an uncanny shiver run through his body: it felt like they were disturbing the sleep of a thousand year old deity, in some way. I feel like I'm the intruder here.

The next painting was done in the same tones of red and brown. A deity, undeniably female, and blood. That was all the painting featured, and Snow felt a twinge of uneasiness looking at it. Who in their right mind would depict such an ugly scene? Suddenly, the urge to protect Serah from the blood red features of the painting sprung up inside him, but it was too late - Serah was staring, enraptured, by the painting. Her fingers brushed the bronze plate underneath it.

"Etro's Blood Creation - the Birth of Humans," she read quietly. "I don't get it..."

Snow stared hard at the painting, trying to understand the meaning behind the bleeding slashes in the painting. He didn't get it either... did this portrait state that Etro, whoever the hell she was supposed to be, had created humans out of her blood?

"Let's just move on..." Dragging her away from the painting, they came to a stop before the next one. The next painting held no humanoid figures. There were only two spheres, painted into golden and blue spheres, respectively. This last one was even more confusing than the other two put together.

"The Worlds' Balance. Mwynn's Last Wish." Both of them stared in silence at the two spheres.

Footsteps stopped behind them.

"What are you two looking at?"

Snow jabbed a finger at the last three paintings they'd looked at, plus the many more that were hung neatly around the long hallway.

"Don't you see, Sis? This place is a picturesque history book! We could probably learn everything we wanted to know just by looking at all of these!" She looked unconvinced, blue eyes dubious.

Hope came up behind her. "You really think so?" His sea green eyes were alight with interest as he took in the paintings that lined the walls.

Snow felt a smile crack his face. "I know so," he replied confidently, twining the fingers of one of Serah's hands with his.

Lightning pressed the slim fingers of her left hand against a painting. There was nothing else in the hallway, save a stone tablet she and Hope had already examined. The only useful information she had gotten out of that was how to reach the Seraph's Apex - where the god Pulse, otherwise known as the Maker, was said to have departed this world. That had been the only thing of interest to her, until Snow had pointed out the paintings. She cast another sideways glance down at him and Serah - the two were much further down the hallway, enthusiastically examining each one.

She was much less interested in the history, and only paused when a particular painting caught her eye. Like the one she was currently touching.

A single silver feather, resting on a throne in the middle of a grey and black expanse. The caption underneath read: Etro's Divine Will - The Timeless Realm of Valhalla. In slightly smaller text underneath it, perhaps even more chilling than the depiction itself. The death of the Mortal World is not a curse. It is unavoidable fate.

She felt a shudder pass through her body. The Maker knew she wasn't interested in history, and all the god and goddess mumbo jumbo, but this struck a little too close to what they had prevented to be brushed off. Shaking her head, she moved on, irritatedly pushing the tiny Pulsian script out of her head. I know I must be going crazy when I'm scared by a painting.

Moving past the other paintings, Lightning found herself at the end of the hallway. There was a single portrait hung above the arched hallway to the next room, a golden curved hallway that reached up out of her sight. And as her eyes lighted on the depiction, she felt her heart give a leap.

A dark shadow that covered the moon, blocking out most of the light. Red eyes gleamed in the corners and sides of the pictures, as the land of Gran Pulse was awash with dying silver lining. The script underneath the painting was almost too small to read, and straining her eyes, she managed to make them out.

The Gods' Eclipse. Brought forth by pain and the fal'Cie's light, it is fated to be ended with sacrifice.

Lightning felt her hands beginning to tighten into fists as she gazed at the painting. There was absolutely no doubt that the scene before her was the event that they wanted to happen. She could guess what the 'fal'Cie's light' was, but as for the second half of the sentence, she felt like she didn't want to know. What kind of sacrifice would be needed mitigate the strength and overwhelming power of the Eclipse?

Someone poked her side.

"Light? What are you..." Hope's voice trailed off as his eyes went to where she was looking. There was a few heartbeats of silence as he took in the painting. Hope's voice was hushed when he spoke again. "You think this is true?"

Trying to control her slightly erratic breathing, Lightning took several deep breaths to calm her pounding heartbeat. "I don't know. There's no proof that all of this mythology mumbo jumbo in this place is true. But we have no choice but to take it seriously... I think we know a little too much about people trying to mess with 'the Maker's will' and all that all too well."

A grim look entered Hope's bright emerald eyes as she spoke. "No kidding, Light." He tugged on the black sleeve on her left arm. "Come on, let's go." She pried his fingers off of her, feeling slightly embarrassed as their fingers touched. She raked her hands through her pink hair to cover her discomfort, quickly turning away.

"Stay here," she commanded him. Setting off a little too quickly, she made her way over to Serah and Snow, dragging them away from the pictures, ignoring Snow's childish whining. When he grows up, I'll have to remind myself to buy him a cake, she thought bitterly.

Rejoining Hope at the end of the hallway, she took the lead again, moving out of the hallway of portraits. Brighter light hit her eyes, and she dragged her gaze upwards. There was nothing here except a circular stairway that spiraled out of sight; a seemingly endless tortile flight of steps. Lightning suppressed a frustrated sigh as she took in the number of stairs above her head.

"Hope you guys have enough stamina," she muttered under her breath as she took the steps two at a time. This is going to be one long walk.

A surprising breeze lifted the strands of her pink hair as Lightning finally gasped for breath, her feet clearing the last few stone steps. She could hear the echoing steps of Hope and Serah somewhere behind her, Snow somewhere far behind her. For all his hero antics, Snow had let himself lag behind even Serah. So much for a 'hero'. Letting out a snort of irritation at their lack of stamina, she raised her eyes to her new surroundings. They were somewhere near the roof of the cathedral, she could tell that. And for some reason, she could hear the sound of water nearby.

Spotting another stone tablet, she carefully made her way over to it - she was in a large, bright room made of marble and gilded with gold. Her fingertips brushed the dust covered stone before she wiped it, revealing the carved script underneath.

The Aquarium of Angels. Symbolizing the life that ran through Gran Pulse only with the will of the Maker, the Aquarium provides water, the life essence, to the rest of the cathedral. The prayer site of the Celestial Beings rests ahead.

Gazing past the stone tablet, Lightning noted the larger open area, presumably the site of the prayers. Her footsteps were muffled, hidden by the sound of running water, as she perched on the side of the stone tablet to wait. Sunlight played at the back of her head as she pulled out her omega weapon, carefully inspecting it. It had gotten several new layers of wear and tear since she'd last polished it, but... Oh well. As long as it's still functional.

Letting her mind wander back to the portraits, she found herself disturbing obsessed with thoughts of her sister. How had Serah reacted to the script written beneath the paintings, more then several hinting the inevitable end of the world? Suddenly, Lightning found herself regretting she'd dragged her sister out on this at all, before she angrily shoved the thought away.

I would have left Serah as a sitting duck if she'd stayed at home. I have to believe that bringing her along was the right choice. It was... wasn't it? She wasn't sure anymore; Serah had seen so many things that Lightning had so carefully hidden away and sugarcoated over that there was almost no point in protecting her any longer.

I promised... I'd take care of her. Was this taking care of her? True, Serah hadn't gotten hurt... yet, but there were more to wounds than just the physical kind. She didn't know how actually seeing death had affected her sister, and she knew Serah was smarter than to tell her if she had felt disturbed in any way. That was the only thing she was grateful to Snow for - if her sister didn't trust her enough, there was at least someone else she trusted her thoughts with.

A faint whimper escaped her lips at the thought that her sister didn't want to burden her with doubts.

"Claire?" Great. Now she's seen.

A small hand covered her own, which was trembling. "What's wrong?"

Lightning brushed her off, noting Hope was standing to the side, carefully not looking in their direction. She felt a small flutter of appreciation - at least the silver haired teenager had some sense of decency.

"Nothing," she said, a little too quickly. Serah didn't look convinced.

"Don't give me that," her sister retorted, uncharacteristically crisp. "I know something's wrong. Spit it out." She narrowed her eyes at her sister, who had copied her exact intonations. Am I really that obvious?

Serah's tone softed. "Please, Claire?"

It's hard to refuse when she's looking at me like that. Urgh, why is it that she knows exactly how to get to me?

Lightning took a breath before replying, hoping to the Maker that this was going to come out right. "It's just... Serah, there's something I've been meaning to ask you... but... I don't know how you're going to respond to it." That part was true enough, as her sister looked at her, blue eyes quizzical. There was no evidence of blame in them. Yet.

But before she could open her mouth to voice her own self doubt, a loud bang reverberated through the hallway, just as Snow huffed his way to the top of the stairs. She was on her feet before her mind had processed what had happened.

And she only needed to catch a glimpse of the torn and diritied white dress and the red eyes to know who it was.

*coughs lightly* I felt that this was a good place to cut it off, even though that makes this chapter bank on the short side, barely grazing 3K words. I think the heavy Fabula Nova Crystallis mythology and the deeper emotional part of the second half was enough to chew on though; I felt that throwing something else in was going to ruin the effect of the last spoken sentence, which is, by the way, something I really want to have an impact.

By the way... the Fabula Nova Crystallis mythology is completely correct. *proud* I did research the whole XIII/Versus/Type-0 mythology before I started this fic, and it's really interesting! 8D Etro was mentioned in this chapter, but she actually plays a lot less of a role in the mythology as a whole than I thought (guess XIII-2 just exaggerated her part), and well, this fic isn't going to go XIII-2, I just had to throw the whole creation thing (which inevitably includes Etro) in there. n_n

Though I think it's pretty obvious the next chapter is action based, and it'll probably be rather long - there are two action scenes planned and erm... yeah. Anyways, leave love as usual - the next chapter should be up by tomorrow evening, at the latest Monday morning.

Hearts!