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Chapter 25: Collapse

...those forts were marvels, you know. Zeakden, Fovogard, Rhanagun. When it seemed the Romandan navy—the uncontested rulers of the sea—might bring their full might to bear against Ivalice, we rebuilt and refurbished those old constructs, outfitting them with the latest cannons and gunpodwer, in mere months. But like so many other wonders of the war, they were forgotten. They decayed, and fell by the wayside, and became another threat to the peace in those days when the lions growled at each other. It's an important lesson: the past is potent, and if you do not watch it warily, its arrows may find you yet.

Alazlam Durai, "Larger Consequences of the 50 Years' War"

"You...stupid..."

Argus' glaring eyes glazed over. He exhaled one rattling, blood-flaked breath, and slumped motionless into the snow. Ramza stared down at his former friend, with his armor and furs shredded and soaked with the same blood that was now pooling beneath him, pouring from the wound Ramza had carved into his back.

I didn't have a choice.

Ramza had stumbled around the edge of the fort and found Argus standing over Delita, sword raised for the kill, and Ramza had been moving forward with his sword still drawn and his mouth opening to shout something—a protest, an order, maybe just a scream of fear, he didn't know—and then through the cold and the wind and the clanging, shouting medley of the battle all around he had heard those words-

...die here, just like your sister.

And he had driven his sword into Argus' back, his mind black with rage.

I didn't have a-

He'd had a choice. Just as he had fighting Wiegraf and Miluda, just as he had when they'd found Ivan Mansel, just as he had when they'd faced the Corps upon the Plains with Argus bleeding upon his rock.

He'd saved Argus. He'd killed Argus.

He killed Teta. He was going to kill Delita. He led Miluda and the others...he...

He'd been Ramza's friend. They had laughed together, fought together, drank together, saved each others' lives, and now...

The sword fell from Ramza's numb fingers. He made no move to pick it up. He kept staring down at the man he had killed. The friend he had killed.

He heard crunching in the snow behind him. He raised his head, and found Delita standing next to him, staring down at Argus' corpse. His eyes were glazed, as blood dripped from his arrow wounds.

"Should...should treat you," Ramza said.

Delita turned on his heel and limped back the way he had come, tracing his way through the bloodstains and the churned snow, leaving a wake of fresh blood behind him.

"Delita," Ramza said, but Delita kept stumbling. Ramza took a step after him, then hesitated, looking back at Argus' corpse.

Teta, dead. Argus, dead. Maybe Beowulf, too if Reis couldn't save him. If it were Balbanes, this wouldn't have happened.

Zalbaag gave the order.

He could feel the world coming apart around him. Everything felt shaky and unstable. Everything...

Ramza stumbled, as the shaking increased. A cacophonous boom sounded through the air, and fire and smoke rose up from one section of the fortress.

Magic? Gunpowder? Hadn't Gregory said something about...

"Delita!" Ramza shouted, sprinting after his friend, and there was another explosion, another plume of smoke as the roof of the fortress sank in, sending stones clattering to the ground in little puffs of snow, and the acrid smell of gunpowder was on the air, harsh and cloying against Ramza's nose. A section of wall in front of him blasted outwards, a horizontal column of fire and fury. Ramza raised his hands to his mouth, coughing as he stumbled through the dust and nearly fell over fallen debris, his face too warm from the heat of the explosion, is back chilled by the falling snow.

He passed through the smoke and found Delita limping on in front of him, every footprint he'd left rimmed by fresh-fallen blood. Ramza followed as best he could, coughing his way through the smoke. More and more of the fort gave way in bone-shaking blasts: Ramza could barely keep his feet.

There, just ahead: Delita knelt in the snow. For a moment, Ramza stared, unable to make sense of what he was seeing. Then the moment passed, and in the mirage shimmer of heat, Ramza saw her in her brother's arms. Teta, peaceful, as though she were sleeping. Teta, who he'd failed to save.

The snow kept falling, even as the fortress crumbled. Delita was bowed in the snow, his sister's corpse in his arms. Ramza stayed where he was, cold and hot and useless.

"Delita," Ramza said. "We can't-"

The section of fortress above them gave a rumble, like thunder on the horizon. The rickety wooden bridge snapped, and collapsed downwards. It landed at an angle in a spray of snow, just between Ramza and Delita, forcing Ramza back a step.

"Delita!" Ramza shouted, and then the fortress in front of him exploded outwards in a gargantuan geyser of fire and rubble. A wall of heat and force smashed into Ramza, carried him off his feet-

And Ramza thought no more.