76: Original Sin

Jihl fluidly twirled her rapier with one hand. Raising the other, she dropped low and pointed the sword at them, smiling. With all of her mouths.

"Okay, now that's way too many teeth," Jecht muttered.

"Split up," Auron said, his eyes locked on the figure that was obviously waiting for them to approach. "She's a trained swordsman. And that is a dueling stance. I'll need to take point."

"Quaint. But you needn't fret. Come at me all at once, if you desire," Jihl taunted, rocking back and forth on her feet.

"But she isn't really!" Rikku bounced up and down nervously. "She's not actually a swordsman! She's Sin! She won't be playing fair! And..." Her hand hovered over her Garment Grid, conflicted. "I don't know if it's safe to use this in front of her." She felt suddenly woefully unprepared without the support of her battle costumes, like she was walking into the hardest battle of her life nearly naked. "What if it's just like summoning?"

"Do your best as you are. You are more than the sum of your equipment," Braska told her knowingly. He must have felt the same way, unable to call upon his greatest cards, his aeons. He brushed his knuckles against her back in an encouraging bump. "You will manage."

"I said split up," Auron hissed, growing impatient. "Surround her. Attack while I keep her sword occupied." He didn't bother to see if they were listening, taking a few slow, purposeful steps forward. He stretched his arms, extending the reach of his sword warily, testing the waters.

"Right," Jecht said, breaking to the left side of the platform and throwing out a Hastega. The sigils for the spell hadn't even finished forming before Jihl's winding hair rose around her to form an intricate counter-pattern. Jecht's magic broke apart, dispelled before it could land. It didn't stop his run, though his loud swearing rang out clearly.

Rikku, in the meanwhile, sprinted for the right of the platform; she lobbed the reagents she'd been mixing together towards Auron, surrounding him in a protective shell. Unfortunately, that caught Jihl's attention in the worst possible way.

"An Al Bhed?!" Her voice rang out with disbelief and outrage, her hair beginning to writhe around her in agitated rings. She whipped her head towards Braska. "Summoner! You would bring heresy into my sacred temple?"

Braska didn't answer; he hadn't actually moved as Auron had instructed. Instead, he finished chanting and pointed his staff at Jihl. The crackle of Holy magic filled the air as the familiar points of glowing light encircled her. Auron jumped back to avoid the blast radius, and Braska's magic exploded. Even more intense than the blinding light was Jihl's high shriek of pain. When the spell faded, however, she looked more angry than hurt. Her chain-like hair had fallen limply to her back again at least, no longer acting like it had a life of its own.

"I see you're too much of a coward to summon your aeons, my Lord," she hissed as she recovered her stance, her many mouths contorting and flicking their tongues at him in mockery. "Eventually you'll yield, when you see me reduce your trusted companions to broken shells of their former selves. And then, I will devour you as well."

Auron wasn't one to waste a monologue. He'd closed the distance during her posturing and struck like lighting, thrusting his blade forward.

But Jihl, rather than being impaled on Auron's sword, abruptly bent out of the way. With a nimble twist of her arm, her rapier sinuously wound around the length of the Ashura. She countered with her own precise lunge while they were still tangled. The edge of her thin blade caught Auron's sword arm, splitting open his red coat and drawing a sharp red line along the length of his exposed skin all the way up to his shoulder.

He retreated immediately into a defensive guard, sword high and eyes narrowed.

Jihl smiled. She wiped her rapier against one of the mouths on her hand, licking the blade clean of blood. "You're very skilled," she complimented him. "But I am better."

With a sinking feeling, Rikku realized the other woman might not be wrong. Auron was the best swordsman she'd ever seen. His style, though, was one of power – slow, heavy, and deliberate. Despite her odd metallic appearance and multitude of mouths, Jihl hadn't actually used any superpowers to counter Auron's strike; the twist and the lunge that had landed her own blow had been pure technique.

A real sense of danger silenced their usual banter; everyone, even Jecht, sobered at Jihl's display of sword prowess. Braska showered a healing spell over Auron, closing the arm wound. The real damage had already been done, though, and Jihl observed it with her sharp eyes.

"Oh, I see. Never before defeated in a duel, were you Sir Guardian? You should know that I, too, was the finest swordsman of my age. That was the entire reason I was selected to become Lord Dysley's Guardian after all," she crooned. "Allow me to grant you a new experience, then." She flicked her rapier upwards and sprung at him. "On your guard!"

Auron hurled himself out of the way of her first stab, but Jihl's movements were fluid and graceful. Witnessing her pressing the attack, Rikku knew that she was the only one who had a chance at keeping pace with Jihl's blistering speed. With that rapier's reach, though, she'd likely be speared through before she even got a knuckle in edgewise. So she aimed a Blizzaga towards Jihl instead, hoping to slow the woman down and keep her off of Auron.

Jihl leapt into the air, arm extended, and shattered the ice crystal forming over her head. The magic unraveled, dispelling once again before it could hit. She landed in a smooth roll that did nothing to slow her assault. Instead, she transitioned seamlessly into a series of steps, ducks, and even hops to drive Auron further and further backwards. He managed to dodge or parry most of her rapid-fire strikes, his protective spells flaring bright when he couldn't. Deftly, he angled his retreat so that he drew her away from Braska. It was still a clear and uncontrolled loss of ground that brought him dangerously close to the edge of the platform, though, and his chest rose and fell heavily from the effort of blocking her.

The last time Rikku had seen anything like it was in the early days when Auron was still training Jecht. Back then, he'd only used it as an intimidation technique to force Jecht to concentrate on their lessons. Unfortunately, Jihl's use of that tactic still produced the same effect.

Jihl relented as the heel of his boot hit the edge of the steep drop to the city far below. "Impressive. You managed to maintain your stance." Taking a step back, she lowered her weapon and appraised Auron with a thoughtful look. Without any warning she lunged, rapier fully extended.

"Yaaarg!" The blow that might have pushed Auron over the edge never landed as Jecht slammed into Jihl, shoulder-checking her off course. The tip of her rapier smashed into the ground, sending chunks of stone flying everywhere. The wrath in her eyes was replaced by surprise when the Fang cleaved into her head, though.

"Nobody said it had to be a fair fight!" Jecht grinned, pulling the enormous sword out from between her eyes out with a wet slop. His smirk soon turned into dismay as Jihl, even split as she was, lifted her rapier. The chains of her hair wrapped around her head, pulling her metallic skin back together again. There was a new jagged crack running down the center of her face, and the look of fury in her eyes made him take a stumbling step back. "Uhh…"

"Never interrupt a duel!" she screamed, spinning into a roundhouse kick that planted her heeled shoe into the center of Jecht's tattoo.

He grunted from the force of the blow, going airborne and sailing over the side of the platform, arms wind milling. Somehow, he managed to reach out and grip one of the ornamental pillars lining the falls before he could follow the water tumbling down over the edge. With a swing, he wrapped his legs around the column and fought to pull himself back up, bleeding profusely from the puncture wound in his chest. His Celestial weapon wasn't so fortunate, though; the Fang fell towards the city, the first casualty of the battle.

Braska rushed towards Jecht, intent on pulling him back to safety, and Jihl clucked her tongue.

"Ah ah ah! Summoners are for dessert," she said, dancing away from Auron's retaliatory strike and flicking her hand at Braska. Wickedly sharp pillars of crystal burst out of the floor, slicing into the summoner's skin and entrapping him. Jihl's hand formed a fist and the pillars expanded explosively, staining the interior of his crystalline cage with ominous splatters of red.

Heart in her throat, Rikku raced towards Braska. There wasn't the time for a mix, judging from the pool of red gathering around the base of the pillar formation. Instead, she grabbed her strongest healing potion to try to stop him from bleeding out. Even though he was trapped, she could hear Braska chanting under his breath with fervent intensity, his eyes trained on Jecht. Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth, bright and terrifying against the paleness of his skin. Finishing the chant, a powerful Curaga washed over the Jecht, closing the blitzer's chest wound and giving him the strength to scrabble back onto the safety of the platform. Exhausted, Braska sagged against his prison.

"Heal yourself!" Rikku yelled, frustrated at his lack of self-preservation. She smacked her potion into the closest exposed skin she could find, his outstretched hand.

Auron surged forward at the same time, trying to catch Jihl off-guard. When Rikku looked over her shoulder to track Jihl's movements, she drew in a sharp breath.

She's too fast! She's way too fast! "Auron!" she tried to warn him. Jihl raised her rapier, fully ready to receive his attack.

Jihl was indeed fast; she changed trajectory at the last minute and shot towards Rikku instead. "How sickeningly sweet! Two star-crossed lovers, destined to die together!"

Rikku threw herself into a backflip, feeling the metal of the rapier skim her abdomen rather than disembowel her. She hit the ground in a roll and immediately skittered backwards to avoid being skewered. And then her heart froze.

It was a feint!

Jihl hadn't been trying to skewer her at all; she'd used Rikku as a distraction while Auron was charging towards her. Because of course Auron, ever the Guardian, would try to intercept Jihl's attack to protect her.

Quick as a hypello in water, Jihl leaned backwards and twisted the rapier into his unsuspecting charge. The Mighty Wall Rikku had layered him in deflected the weapon enough to sending it scraping along the right side of his face rather than clean through his eye socket, though it shattered under the force of Jihl's blow. Auron howled in pain as the sword's tip scored his cheek and caught on his eye, blinding him. He staggered, blood splattering at his feet.

Braska chanted quickly, trying to repair Auron's ruined eye as the other man doubled over and covered his bloody face with his free hand. Auron continued to swing blindly to keep Jihl from following through with a fatal attack, retreating. He managed to straighten out of his pained curl as the tell-tale wash of Braska's powerful magic rapidly started healing the wound, closing his split skin.

Jihl snarled. "I said wait your turn!" She slashed her hand downwards and the crystal prison expanded once again, this time embedding Braska completely from head to toe before he could complete his spell.

The green thread of curative magic dissipated and Auron stumbled backwards, his hand dropping away to reveal a recognizably scarred face. He tottered, trying to regain his sense of balance despite his sudden loss of depth perception.

No, Rikku thought, her fear crystalizing into something solid. His half-healed eye was already scarred over. Even if Braska were to try again, it was too late to restore it; Auron's loss of vision was permanent. But I'm changing the future! She slid to Auron's side, steadying him. This wasn't supposed to happen! Not again! "Stop it!" she screamed at the other woman, her hands shaking as she tried to mix something, anything to give them an edge.

"Time to die," Jihl purred, scraping her rapier back and forth over the stone menacingly and stalking forward one slow step at a time, her heels clicking ominously against the stone floor.

"Time out!" Jecht roared, his foot snapping Jihl's head back in a flying kick. She reeled and then twisted, slinging her rapier towards him. Jecht cartwheeled expertly out of the way – and landed on his sword. Which was no longer lost in the depths of Dream Bevelle.

Even panicking as she was, Rikku blinked in disbelief. "Huh? How?!"

Jecht ignored her, sweeping his hands towards the sky. The sword spun upwards in a wild spiral that took him out of the reach of Jihl's rapier. Bending his knees to keep his balance, he crouched low on the broad side of the Fang, using it like an aerial surfboard. "Later, Blondie! I'm concentratin'!"

She'd seen him do it before; controlling the thrown blade to fly where he wanted it to. Apparently being forced to fight against Sin's human incarnation had pushed him to perfect the talent.

Jihl was just as dumbfounded as the rest of them, her mouths dropping open. Then she screeched at him, the sound deep and vibrating as the noise emanated from her entire body. Impossibly high crystalline stalagmites exploded out of the ground, chasing after Jecht in the sky. He weaved in and out between them expertly, similar to how he dodged attacks underwater when playing blitzball.

"Die already, you insufferable cockroach!" she shrieked, forgetting about Rikku and Auron for the moment as she focused on Jecht.

Rikku's fingers closed around the grenade fragments she'd been mixing and hurled them at Jihl's upturned face. The fiery explosions slammed the other woman back across the platform multiple times, blasting her towards the edge in much the same way she'd forced Auron back.

"We gotta level the playin' field," Jecht growled, casting another Hastega over all of them as he circled overhead. This time, Jihl wasn't able to counter their spells and Rikku nearly wept with relief as she felt her limbs growing loose with augmented speed.

"Augh," Auron gasped, his shaking hand coming up to cover his eye once more. "Get Braska out before he suffocates!" he yelled, raising his sword and running towards Jihl, who was still staggering. He leaned back and slammed the Ashura into her side, lifting her off of her feet and throwing her over the edge.

Rikku knew they hadn't killed her, but it didn't matter. Braska's skin was turning the same shade of blue as his cage. Everyone raced to chip away at the crystals surrounding the summoner. One particularly hard crack across the top of the prison by Auron was enough to split the crystal around his head. Braska gulped in deep, wheezing breaths as soon as his face was freed, and Rikku and Jecht continued to pry chunks of crystal off the rest of his body. Auron caught him when he fell, mumbling curative magic over the worst-looking parts of Braska's red-stained robe.

"Rrrng," a low, deep voice growled from below, filling Rikku with dread.

Here it comes… the real challenge, she thought. They weren't at their best; Braska was barely conscious, and Auron was still trying to adjust rapidly to the loss of his vision – and precision.

The edge of the platform cracked under a large, clawed hand that grabbed the edge. Jihl pulled herself up slowly, but her form had changed once again. She was much larger than before, and her smart Crusader garb had disappeared. She wasn't naked, though; instead, her chrome-like skin had blacked to dark iron and the many mouths that really did cover every bit of her body melded into gold sigils of Yevon that each chanted the Hymn in a discordant symphony, burning with fiery light. Her long hair, now glowing with energy, lifted from her back and shoulder blades like wings. She rose to her full height, revealing a prehensile tail that ended in multiple talon-stingers. At least her rapier was nowhere to be seen; it was a small comfort when she was three times the size of them now, though.

"That's Dysley's Final Aeon," Rikku said, watching her with wide eyes. "We have to beat her!"

Auron struggled to rise to his feet, sword in hand, but Jecht pushed him back down. "You had your turn, Auron. Take care o' Braska now." Scowling, he hefted the Fang over his shoulder, copying his mentor, and then ruined the effect by swaggering forward, his other hand fisted against his hip. "Oi, mouthbreather! Your fight's with me!"

The aeon whirled, smashing her tail down in the center of the platform, but Jecht avoided it by leaping up and holding onto his sword, dangling himself in mid-air.

"Bad aim, too," he sighed, shaking his head. He dropped when her tail retreated, landing in the smashed rubble. "Well, gotta set up my game now," he groused, falling into a wide fighting stance.

Roaring, the aeon rushed towards Jecht, claws extended. He met her rush, clenching his armored fist into a ball and leaping into an uppercut to her chin that sent her reeling backwards. He followed it with a side kick before she could recover, and then brought his sword down in a jumping vertical slash across the length of her body. The many mouths screamed in pain as the Fang opened up wounds that shone like fire everywhere it struck against her darkened body.

She slashed at him with her claws, snarling, and Jecht brought the Fang up before him, bracing it against himself like a shield to absorb the hits. As she drew back another fist, though, he dropped the sword and cocked his arm backwards, slinging a powerful haymaker into the side of her knee that made her crumple to the ground on one leg. He met the downward trajectory of her forehead with a head-butt, and then bounced her off the floor with another vicious strike of his sword.

"When did he get so good?" Rikku gaped, watching Jecht mercilessly beat the Final Aeon, combining Auron's sword technique with every single dirty trick and brawler punch he knew.

Auron laughed self-depreciatingly, still rubbing at the tender scar running above and below his bloodied right eye. "Jecht doesn't fight for honor or glory. He doesn't need the forms or the stances. He just fights to win." Then he smiled a tiny, proud smile, despite his pain. "Jihl was wrong, after all. I have been beaten in a duel before." He tilted his head towards the fight.

They watched Jecht use his flying sword to pull the aeon up into the air, and then spike her back into the ground like a blitzball. "That was for Braska!" He flipped onto it and rode the hilt guard downwards, driving the business end of the Fang into her abdomen and pinning her to the ground like a tacked bug. "An' that one's for Auron!" He tumbled forward as soon as he'd driven his sword through her deeply enough to keep her locked down. "But this here, this one's all for me!" Kneeing on her shoulders, he drew his fists back and punched her repeatedly in the face, giving her no chance to recover.

By the fifth punch, his unarmored knuckle was raw, but the aeon went limp beneath him. Smirking, he rose to his feet and put one foot on the hilt of his sword, pushing it in further. Then he leaned on his knee, panting for breath. "The game's over," he said grimly.

True to his word, Jihl's body grew translucent, swirling with the multi-colored hues of escaping pyreflies.

"We did it. We got her!" Rikku scrambled to her feet. "Now we just have to get out before Sin's body collapses on us!" She turned and glared at Braska. "No matter what happens, don't summon now! We'll find a way out of here on our own, so let's go, go, g-"

Jecht let out a yelp and hopped off his sword as more than just pyreflies flitted away from under his feet. "The hell is that thing?!" He skipped away from the black, wavering cloud that formed above their heads.

"That's Yu Yevon," Rikku said. The squid-like creature flitted around wildly, its tentacles writing as it searched for a Final Aeon to latch onto. It grew more and more agitated as nothing was found, and Rikku clenched her fist. "We gotta go right now—!"

"No," said Braska, standing up and holding his staff out. "It can end here. All of it. Yuna will never have to go on Pilgrimage. Spira will never have to suffer senseless deaths again. A thousand years of people just like us, reliving the same pain over and over again – we can finally stop that." He looked at Rikku, and then gave her a gentle smile. "Not by fighting him." His gaze lifted to Yu Yevon, who'd stilled above them, pulsating eerily in the dim light. "By Sending him."

Auron's arms wrapped around her. "Rikku," he said, trembling, torn between the obvious truth in Braska's words and his attachment to her. "Everything you know will change. But… stay," he begged her, his one good eye seeking hers. "Find a way to stay…"

The tightness in her throat rose. But it wasn't Auron's fear of her disappearance that flooded her. It was Jecht, crossing his arms and watching Braska begin to dance, ignorant of its meaning.

No! No, I was supposed to buy him ten more years! She opened her mouth, searching for a reason to stop the Sending, but no words came out. Braska was right. It was the simplest solution; the obvious and easiest one. He didn't know that Sending Yu Yevon meant destroying Jecht. She did, though, and she couldn't help it. She met Jecht's eyes.

He'd always been able to figure things out when he needed to.

"A song from an Otherworld," Jecht mumbled, watching her and finally making the connection. "We're the song. All o' Dream Zanarkand." He turned back to Braska, his eyes going wide. "Tidus!" he yelled, lunging for the other man and grabbing his staff, stopping the dance mid-way. "Don't!"

Surprised, Braska tried to draw back, but Jecht wouldn't release him, instead trying to pull the staff out of Braska's hands. "Jecht! Why?" Braska asked, confused. He hung on tightly to his weapon despite being shaken like a rag doll by the larger man.

Jecht didn't have time for an answer, though, because Yu Yevon focused on their struggle. It swooped low, and Jecht released the staff, pushing Braska away as he fell backwards, both of them narrowly avoiding being hit by the strange undead.

"It's attacking us?!" Auron said, releasing Rikku and bringing his sword up. He shook his head and focused, trying to track Yu Yevon's erratic flight with his blade. "Why?"

Rikku's eyes widened. "Because… he needs an aeon to survive!" She looked at Jecht, who was reaching for his sword, horror dawning. Jihl hadn't realized, but the thing in the air stalking them wasn't Sin… it was the greatest Summoner of Spira.

We failed, because… "He wants the most powerful aeon nearby! Jecht! He's going after you!"

"Huh?" He looked up and saw Yu Yevon turning to bear down on him, realization dawning. "Shit!" he yelled, falling over and backing towards them on his butt. Auron leapt in front of him, swinging his sword into the writhing black mass and slamming it back up into the air before it could latch on to Jecht. Yu Yevon wobbled a bit, but then continued its frenetic motions, circling them again like a cat stalking a mouse. Its tentacles shivered, pulsing with glowing energy.

"You have to Send it!" Auron yelled, preparing to bat it away again. Jecht jumped to his feet and grappled Auron's sword down.

"Don't hurt it!" he yelled, his eyes wide. "Killin' that thing will kill my son!"

Yu Yevon swerved back towards them and Rikku grabbed Jecht, trying to pull him out of the way. "Don't do this, Jecht! Don't let that thing take yo—"

Her breath left her in an abrupt gasp as something hit her. Her eyes dropped to her chest.

Ten glowing tendrils pierced through her, wriggling like worms. A weight settled against her back, and the tendrils contracted, fingers on a hand grasping something inside of her, sinking below the surface of her skin.

"N-no," she laughed shakily, feeling a burning sensation between her shoulder blades. She met their eyes, just as confused as they were. "No, he always goes after the most powerful aeon…"

She wasn't able to process their looks of shock as she fell to her knees; she felt pretty much the same, after all. Well, except for the fire in her spine that was rapidly spreading to her chest, eating her up from the inside. The world grew fuzzy, and then faded away completely into a grey nothingness.

Thoughts foreign to hers flooded her head.

How can I rest? How can I be at peace? What shall become of us, when I am dead? No! The end of mortality shall never overtake us… Never! Zanarkand… will live… forever!

She felt it; felt Yu Yevon's single-minded desire ringing through her head. Even as her soul writhed in agony, she found herself repeating his mantra unwillingly in her mind, over and over again. Zanarkand will live forever. She was slipping away, being pulled into the depths of a silent ocean with a relentless undertow. Falling into darkness, and this time there would be no end.

Something stopped her. Her eyes cracked open briefly; there was nothing to see, in that deep, dark pit with her consciousness hanging on by a thread. She closed them again, giving up, but the pressure increased. In a world numbed of nearly all sensation, she felt it. Something around her wrist. It pulled insistently, and she tried to ignore it. So tired. The grip tightened, bringing pain back into her consciousness. Blearily, she forced her heavy eyelids open to take a look.

An enormous fiend's claw was wrapped around her arm, dwarfing it. If it squeezed her any more tightly, she was sure her arm would snap off at the elbow.

That… should be concerning.

It didn't matter; she was too tired to fight. Instead, her weary eyes followed the claw up a patch of rough scales, to a tuft of feathers and spikes, jutting out in every which direction. Strands of hair, white as snow, came into focus, and a pair of glowing yellow eyes watching her.

I should really be scared right about now, shouldn't I? She squinted, feeling coming back into her heavy limbs as she was pulled upwards, upwards, through the thick, cloying darkness that was reluctant to release her. The depthless black night receded into grey clouds. There was still a thick pain in her chest, like someone had ripped her heart and lungs out, but there was also enough light to see now, and she had enough energy to keep her eyes open. She blinked away her grogginess and took a good look at her savior.

The creature turned again, and her eyes fell to its chest. There, in white, blazoned across it was an unmistakable symbol. She lifted her eyes and he smiled at her, tilting his head; in this strange space in-between, where gravity didn't seem to exist, the red bandana swayed slowly alongside the motion of his white hair.

He couldn't speak anymore; a bony protrusion extruded from his throat and had wrapped itself around his chest, protecting and silencing him at the same time. His scarred face still retained its humanity, though, and his eyes crinkled as he smiled at her, gentle despite the fact that his teeth were long and wicked.

No hard feelings, Blondie.

Rikku burst into tears.

Jecht sagged a bit, then shook his mane of white hair out and continued to pull her up through the misty grey clouds, swimming as though he was underwater. His toes were as clawed as his fingers now, and unsettling bone spurs protruded from his legs at regular intervals, acting like armor.

Pull it together, Rikku! She used her free hand to wipe her eyes dry, trying to stop the feeling of the crumbling dam in her chest. They'd done this for her; she couldn't turn into dead weight now, of all times. "What's going on? What happened?" she asked, struggling to salvage the situation. Then she gasped and clawed at her chest, feeling something inside of herself move.

Zanarkand will live forever!

Jecht's face turned into an ugly scowl; he was looking at something on her back, and Rikku had a pretty good idea what it was. Shuddering, she kept herself from clawing at her Yu Yevon backpack and instead focused on Jecht's bright-eyed stare.

"Can you show me?"

He looked discomfited, and then put his other hand over his forehead, concentrating. Slowly, the grey mists cleared. She saw herself floating above the Palace of Dream Bevelle, looking down at the scene of the final battle they'd just fought. It felt a bit like watching a viewing sphere, seeing Jecht's memories replayed for her in the same way she'd shown them hers at the Dome. Strangest of all was witnessing her own body sprawled over the ground, her face pale and her green eyes wide open yet unseeing. She looked dead. There was no sign of Yu Yevon anywhere.

Auron was clutching her in his arms, holding her where she'd collapsed. His head was bowed and his shoulders were shaking. Jecht was sprawled next to him; it looked very much like Auron had knocked him to the ground and the still-very-human Jecht hadn't moved to get up afterwards. Braska stood over them all, a look of horror on his face.

It passed quickly; Braska's eyes landed on Auron for a moment, and then turned to Jecht, burning with bright intensity. He put his hand over his chest. "I know what I promised," he said quietly. "But they… are my life. Just as your son is yours."

Jecht met his gaze, matching the motion. A look of real fear passed over his face, and his fingers clenched. It smoothed away into resignation, and he nodded. "Yeah," he said shakily. "Yeah. This was always the only way."

The tense look eased off of Braska's face. "Auron," he said.

Auron looked up from her body, his face stained with tears.

"I will save her. No matter what it takes." He bowed his head, and lights bloomed around him, the tell-tale glow of summoning.

"No," Auron said thickly, realizing what was happening. "No! Jecht–!"

His words were lost as magic sigils appeared all around them, matched by the glowing sphere of light expanding outwards from Jecht's chest.

"See ya 'round, Auron," Jecht said roughly, a wane smile on his face. Then, shuddering, he doubled over and let out a sharp cry of pain that gradually faded. His body cracked and reformed, turning dark as his hair went light, washing out into white. Skin reformed into hardened ridges and sharp protrusions, changing texture and, in the case of his armored arm, even size. When it was over, he rose slowly to his feet – only slightly larger than life, and still mostly recognizable as the man he'd once been. His eyes glowed a dull fiendish yellow, though. He stood limply, head hanging, all armor and claws, as Braska slid into Rapture.

After a moment, Jecht animated and looked around. He kneeled by Auron and silently pushed the other man away from Rikku's prone body. Flipping her over, he placed his hands on her shoulder blades. Then, eyes flaring bright, he snarled and pushed. She recognized the technique; she'd taught it to him herself. His hands sunk into her back, disappearing in much the same way Yu Yevon's body had, searching for memories to grasp onto that weren't her own.

The memory of the Palace faded, and Rikku looked up at Jecht. "That's how you got here? So we're inside of my head? But… then what about Yu Yevon?"

Jecht smirked, then reached over her back and grappled onto something. He began tugging, his face contorting in exertion.

Rikku heaved as something tore inside of her, and the world exploded into bursts of color.

The mists cleared suddenly, as did the pain. Her surroundings solidified, taking form and color – and she recognized it instantly. The bustling streets of Zanarkand, the ancient metropolis. She'd seen it once before, when Seymour had shown it to them. Somehow, though, she knew this version was real; at least as real as she was in this strange, other space.

This… isn't my mind anymore. So then it must be…

She looked down at the heavy weight around her chest, as if someone had pulled her in and was giving her a too-tight back hug. She took in the heavy, robed arm holding her close, and then looked up over her head. Her eyes widened, and she let out a gasp.

"Jecht?!"

He looked down at her, his familiar red-brown eyes narrowing. His dark face was unscarred and clean-shaven, and his thick brown hair was neatly bound in a low ponytail, with only a few unruly strands escaping.

"Don't presume, Bedohl scum!" he boomed, glaring. His forearm tightened around her neck painfully, lifting her feet off the ground. Legs kicking in fear, she grabbed onto his arm and tried to hold herself up, gasping for air.

Definitely not Jecht! Jecht wouldn't try to kill me!

"The hell, Blondie!"

Something whizzed over her head and cracked loudly. She crashed into the ground, coughing. Her arm twisted painfully behind her back when she tried to get up, and she fell to her knees. The man with Jecht's face was scowling and rubbing his chin, but he hadn't released her completely – his hand was still clamped around her wrist.

Jecht – the very familiar, human, scarred, and bare-chested one – bounced on his feet, shaking out his knuckle. "You really think I got anythin' in common with this prick?! I keep tellin' ya, I look like that Lord Mi'ihen guy, not this loser!" He stopped bouncing long enough smack a fist into his palm and crack his neck. Then he looked his body double in the eye – simple enough, since they were the same height. "Listen, we can do this the easy way or the hard way, but you're lettin' her go anyhow," he warned.

"You...!" The man wearing Jecht's face looked surprised. Then his eyes softened. "I see. You… are my creation."

He released Rikku, and she scrambled away from him, rubbing her throat. "You're Yu Yevon?" she rasped, looking between the man in the ornate, high-necked Summoner's robes and the sparsely-clad blitzball player. The physical differences were there, but only slight; Yu was just as familiar and foreign to Jecht as Shuyin had been to Tidus. "I can't believe it! You absolutely made yourself into the biggest superstar of your own dream world!" she gaped, marveling at his ego. It was somehow offensive.

"Yevon schmevon," Jecht scoffed, tugging her behind him. "I'm the superstar, not some thousand-year-old mass murderin' asshole with a chip the size o' a whale on his shoulder."

Yu's face twisted. "This ruffian… is a superstar?"

"Star blitzer of the Zanarkand Abes," Jecht couldn't help himself from boasting.

Looking between the two, Rikku couldn't help but notice the differences between them, even more pronounced now that they were interacting with one another. Both had striven to be heroes to their people; if Maechen and Lenne's telling of history was correct, however, Yu Yevon had clearly failed. Rather than the loving adoration of the masses, he'd enforced compliance – brutal enough to have created Shuyin's unstoppable hatred and betrayal. He'd pressed an entire population of summoners, willing or not, to become his Fayth. Ultimately, he'd even destroyed his own city, murdering everyone within it in the process.

Jecht was Yu Yevon's perfect dream; his own creation indeed. A man who was beloved by all of Zanarkand, to the point of making even his own son feel inferior. He was a respected hero, not a tyrant; just looking at them side by side, anyone could tell he was more laid back, relaxed, and self-confident than his counterpart. Above all other things, though, Jecht was a genuinely nice person underneath his rough exterior.

"You… you wanted to be just like Jecht," Rikku said, finally catching on. "That's why you made him like that. Because the you in the real Zanarkand was his complete opposite."

"Huh?" Jecht said, neither understanding nor really caring about her attempt to analyze the ancient summoner. "Why's that matter? So long as he ain't lettin' you go, he's just another asshole I gotta beat down in the end."

"What manner of nonsense are you spouting, girl?" Yu said, his scowl tightening. "My existence allows Zanarkand to live forever. My own wants and desires play little role in that! My purpose is greater! As is yours, now!"

"You're just like Shuyin," Rikku complained. "I like the summoned versions of yourselves better, you know. The real ones are jerks!"

Yu's expression spasmed. "Shuyin? You know of that imbecile?"

"Who the hell's Shoe-in an' what's he got to do with anythin'?" Jecht asked her.

"Shuyin. He's… kinda like the body double of your son. Yunie, Paine and I went on a wild goose chase hunting him down while he was trying to destroy Spira, until we finally figured out he wasn't the same person as Tidus."

Yu's lip curled in distaste. "Shuyin was a fool boy who defied my authority because of a temper tantrum. Bevelle did us a favor when they executed him." He glared at Jecht. "It would only be fitting that something like you would have a copy of that deviant as your spawn."

As the summoner spoke, Rikku felt her waist growing hot. Looking down, she saw Lenne's sphere, whirling and glowing angrily. You and me both, Lenne, she thought.

"Hah," Jecht said, his grin widening. "That only makes me ev'n prouder of my son. Like I always say, think for yourself an' question authority," he sneered. "Looks like my boy came from better roots than I did."

Yu's face turned ugly. "Enough. Leave us," he said imperiously. "I have made my choice, and much as it pains me, the Bedohl girl stays. When I'm done with her, then I'll come after you and put you back in Dream Zanarkand. Where you belong."

"Why? So you can keep living your dream vicariously through Jecht?" Rikku said, her hand closing over the sphere. "You did it so well even your own summon hates you," she growled. "You're a sick, obsessed old man, and you need to learn to let go!"

Yu tensed, his face darkening as the bustling city streets slowed, the crowds of people freezing all around them. A sense of imminent danger pressed in from all sides and Rikku shivered, glad that she'd at least materialized with her Grid intact. She didn't even need to activate it; Lenne stepped out all on her own, flooding her limbs with new strength and determination. She swayed on her feet, tapping her toes to a nervous rhythm as her Songstress costume formed around her body.

"You heard the lady," Jecht laughed, his grin growing feral as he crouched down, arms extended, his sword materializing in his hand. "You an' me. Let's see which o' us is the real one, yeah?"

A/N: We're in the Endgame now…

Rikku Overdrives: Mighty Wall, Burning Soul
Auron Overdrive: Shooting Star
Jecht Overdrives: Feral Charge, Quick Block, Eagle Talons, Rising Fist

In case it wasn't clear, Jecht pulled his sword back up from the city using his (quickly developing) control ability. Which is why he wasn't helping out while Auron was losing an eye.

Jihl's Final Aeon form was loosely inspired by Fang's half-Ragnarok form in FFXIII.
Jecht's Final Aeon form is from Dissidia, not the huge thing Yuna and Tidus fought in FFX.

"Think for yourself and question authority" is a paraphrasing of psychologist Timothy Leary.