Chapter Text
Altissia | Jan 4, M.E. 757
“ It’s the Oracle!”
The call echoed, repeated over and over from more voices than Prompto had time to count, following his path since he’d stepped into the light. like the voices of the damned calling out to their savior, fervent and worshipful.
Sickening. Prompto didn’t know what to do with it. Wasn’t sure he wanted to. It wasn’t a question of whether he thought he deserved it, at this late hour. It was easier to pass the mantle of their fervor onto Asa, who had lived a lifetime already under its weight.
Despite the Regent’s attempts to discredit him, the people still saw the Oracle – him – as a symbol of hope, a rallying cry to arms. And who could blame them when the world was literally destroying itself beneath their feet? Whatever Claustra’s daughter had promised, a full scale Niflheim invasion was not it.
He had given no rallying speeches nor displayed any divine power, but he hadn’t needed to. It was the former First Secretary's word and her people that gave him power – the ragtag militia who had struck first at the enemy that had come from nowhere to take their lives. The more who saw them fighting with Prompto at their head, the more who joined them. The call was growing louder and spreading further as the people realized that this wasn’t just another attempt from Niflheim to intimidate them into submission.This was an attack meant to wipe out their very existence and way of life and there would be no more hiding.
Prompto wasn’t a leader of men. Never had been. His dubious origins notwithstanding, he just wasn’t made for it. Not in this life.
But Prompto wasn’t alone. He had Asa, and it was through his strength and experience that he hadn’t crumbled when the first rallying call came – when the people who should have reviled him for taking Luna’s place as Oracle took up arms for him instead.
He wasn't arrogant to think it was just for him, of course. The Altissians were fighting for their home, lives, and livelihoods. But it sure felt like it when he was leading the charge to the altar, a hundred people and growing at his back, and more across the entire region as the First Secretary Claustra’s decree spread.
Prompto ducked behind a wall, jerking as he narrowly avoided being riddled with holes. His coat had been ruined by dust and grit, blackened almost entirely on one hip where he’d been forced to roll over a fallen MT to avoid losing his head, its corrupted blood stark against pure white. His hands and arms ached from the numbing percussion of his rifle, his ears rang from explosions, and his lungs burned from exertion. But Prompto couldn’t stop.
He spat dust out of his mouth, concentrating. There was a score of MTs blocking the stone dock they were attempting to pass between one cluster of buildings and another. With water on both sides blocked only with a lattice of stone columns, there was nowhere else for them to go but forward. Prompto peered back around his cover, cataloging the positions of the troops before facing his men. There were a dozen people awaiting his orders and he took in their pale, filthy, but determined faces. Somewhere in the distance, several explosions thundered over the bay, causing several of them to flinch and Prompto’s ears to ring. He didn't let it distract him.
“I count twenty,” he said shortly, then glanced up at the walkway above. “How do we get up there?”
“There’s ladders toward the entrance, sir,” one older woman answered, gesturing from where they came with her minigun. She wore an apron as if she’d started the day kneading dough before everything went to hell. Though her eyes were wide with fear, her hands did not shake.
Prompto nodded. “I need six of you to get up there. The rest of you, use the columns as cover.” The MTs would be easily picked off if they could be flanked. He knew how they moved, how they worked. He’d fought them. He’d been them.
It wasn’t the only order he’d given today, and some small part of him, the part that was still purely this timeline’s Prompto, was shocked every single time his words were followed without question. Asa was not, and it was he that eradicated any hesitation from their voice, pertinent information and muscle memory flowing between them without barrier. They were more one than they’d ever been and it was Asa that advised him, that urged Prompto to follow his instincts.
And his instincts were good. It had always come naturally to him; battle. Shooting. Strategizing. What had once filled him with pride, earned him praise from even the most elitist of his instructors, what propelled him above his peers in training and secured him his place by Nocits’ side now only filled him with disgust and a resigned sort of horror. Because now he knew why .
He’d been made for it. His instincts fell over him with cold clarity, his training from this life, from all his other lives, even his programming , culminating into what he was meant to be.
The perfect soldier.
Did all MTs have the same potential? It was a grim thought, but by turning them into mindless drones Versteal had erred. What would an army of perfect soldiers have been worth to Niflheim? Surely more than these tortured daemon abominations, barely better than puppets, who Prompto and his small battalion mowed down by the dozen.
Prompto broke out of his concentration when a shout warned him of incoming airships. Prompto flinched as the warning turned into a scream of agony, throwing himself behind a stone pillar as heavy fire thundered down from above, tearing apart ground and people alike. Prompto’s heart thundered in his chest as one scream turned to many, the airship sweeping over their position determined to wipe away the lives beneath its sinister shadow. They were pinned.
Just as Prompto feared his journey might end right here, another drop ship – of imperial make but painted a daring, rebellious red – opened fire on the ship above, driving it to another part of the city. A swarm of smaller vehicles darted between the ships, battering the enemy vessel down until a percussive explosion blew it from the sky. It caught fire, hover technology failing and sending it crashing into the cliffs surrounding the city, only to sink into the bay below. The red ship swept away, closing in on its next target.
Aranea was coming through with her promise of air support.
Prompto released his held breath, thunking his head against the column he braced against. That had been too close. He was at least gratified to see that the enemy MTs had not been spared in the crossfire. There was one left still alive, struggling to get onto its destroyed legs and continue the fight. A bullet between its glowing red eyes put it down.
They were fewer now, but Prompto had lost track of the number of people they’d lost. There was only one way he could help the injured, avenge the dead, and protect those still fighting. He had to get to the altar and finish this.
“My Lord Oracle!” An unarmored woman holding a blackened sword skidded around the corner just as Prompto and those remaining reached the end of the dock. Prompto glanced past her to the altar, just visible between the row of buildings some several hundred meters away. They were almost there. “My Lord Oracle,” the woman repeated, out of breath and Prompto forced himself to focus on her. “The central district has been cleared of civilians and we are getting as many as we can to the cliffs. The MTs don’t seem to be interested in pursuing them past the inner ring.”
“Good. That's – good.” Prompto frowned, thinking. So, Ardyn was concentrating his forces around the altar. But why? Hadn't he wanted Prompto to reach it? Was this just to put more obstacles in his way?
“There’s more,” she said. “What’s left of Altissia’s standing army has barricaded the Altar of the Tidemother. They’re defending it from the MTs.”
That was either excellent news or trouble. “Who’s leading them?” Prompto asked cautiously.
“Regent Alena Claustra, my Lord. She’s proclaimed you a false Oracle. She’s…she’s demanding your head, sir.”
Prompto was silent for a moment, brows creased in worry. “Where is Chancellor Izunia?”
The woman shook her head. “No one has seen him.”
The First Secretary was right , Asa noted. Alena’s paranoia is starting a civil war.
Yeah, but how is she even able to tell who’s friend or foe? Prompto wondered. This is crazy.
Well, did she seem sane to you when we met her at Ravatogh?
He had a point. Still. And where was Ardyn? He had a terrible feeling about this.
“The people will stand beside you, sir,” one of the civilians who’d joined them not long ago spoke up, placing a hand on Prompto’s shoulder. Prompto looked into his hardened face, then to all of the people spread out around him.
“You're going to fight your own countrymen?” Prompto said brokenly.
“We’d fight against anyone who betrayed us to the empire,” the swordswoman growled. “Alena’s followers are zealots, sir. We will put them down like the traitors they are.”
Prompto frowned and shook his head in denial. “Has anyone tried to talk to them? They can’t all feel that way!”
“Some might defect,” another man called. He was wearing a city guard uniform. “Now that it's clear that the empire is not here to protect us, the Regent will have little support.”
“They’ll be overwhelmed soon,” Prompto realized. “If all of the MTs are converging on the altar…” he paused, head tilted. “What are your names?”
“Triss, my Lord,” the swordswoman offered with a salute.
“Reginald,” the officer said.
The civilian, an older, grizzled man, spoke last. “Matteo.”
“Triss, Reginald, Matteo,” Prompto said, nodding to them each in turn. They drew up beneath his acknowledgment, shoulders straightening and faces hardening. Prompto resisted the urge to swallow nervously. “I need to get to the altar. If there’s any chance we can get through to Regent Alena, we have to take it. We’re going to need her and her supporters’ help if we hope to stand any chance against the MT forces flooding the city. I’d rather not kill them if we don’t have to, not when they’re just trying to defend their home.” Prompto didn’t hold out any hope that he could save Alena, but he had to try. The more they fought against each other, the less likely they were to drive the invasion from the city before it was too late.
“Sir,” Officer Reginald said shortly, “I was a sergeant for the city guard, and some of those officers out there are my men. I may be able to reason with them.”
“Do it,” Prompto answered just as clipped. Reginald nodded sharply and turned on his heel, sprinting toward the altar. “Triss, Matteo, I need you to gather who’s left in the area and send them my way, if you can. I’m going to need as much help as I can get for this final push.”
Matteo saluted, but Triss set her jaw stubbornly. “I will not allow you to go any further with these civilians as your only protection, no matter how stout their hearts. I was once a hunter. Allow me to be your shield, your Eminence.”
Prompto stared. I already have a shield, he wanted to say, but that was no longer true, was it? Prompto was alone here. Matteo cleared his throat. “I will take a volunteer from our company to scout the canals for more help.” With a bow, Matteo gestured to a young pale-faced man with a smear of blood over his eyes. They disappeared in opposite directions. Prompto stumbled as the ground shook under his feet with another explosion too close for comfort. He looked nervously toward the altar again, realizing he was running out of time. If the MTs won the day, what then? There would be no one left to save.
Jason, Prompto reminded himself. I can still save Jason. The thought was enough for him to rally, if only enough to take one more step.
“Let’s go,” he said to Triss and the remaining militia at his back.
Triss took point, sword clenched in a tight fist at her side, as they made their way cautiously toward the heart of the city. They encountered no one else in the final few streets that remained, but the sounds of battle grew cacophonous the closer they got to the inlet’s edge. Finally, Triss held out a hand, stopping them from turning the final corner as she peered into the open. She pulled back, whispering urgently to Prompto “Reginald pulled through. The city guard is splitting off from the Regent’s soldiers.”
Prompto peered around the corner then, taking in the chaos.
A white stone barrier denoted the edge of the city from the blue waters of the inlet where the Leviathan’s cradle lay. A stone pathway led to the altar where she could be summoned, but it was not empty. There, Prompto spotted Regent Alena, ducked behind the archway that was the only standing obstacle between her and a rain of bullets from the MTs battling fiercely with Altissia’s standing troops. Sure enough, a tight knot of blue guard uniforms pressed against the tide of gray MTs, even some soldiers gathering around Reginald’s rallying cry. Yet the remaining soldiers defending Alena would not budge from the altar’s pathway, defending it from any and all who wished to pass.
They were losing. One by one, the MTs were pushing them back, the altar’s defenders outnumbered three to one.
Dammit! He needed to get to that altar, but he wasn’t sure how he was going to manage that with the full-out war going on in his way. Even if he did, how would that help any of these people? Prompto needed the fighting to stop.
Prompto growled in frustration. He didn’t know why Ardyn was doing this, and it almost didn't matter at this point. Prompto couldn’t summon the Leviathan even if he wanted to, which he didn’t because he was pretty sure she would just make things ten times worse. Leviathan might destroy the city if he did, but Ardyn would destroy the city and do who knows what to Jason if he didn’t, and – Prompto had to blink away furious tears as he watched another one of Reginald’s men fall – it was all so pointless!
But maybe there was one thing he could do that wasn’t pointless. If he could just reach Alena – if he could just talk to her! – then some of these people might make it out of this alive. If he could stop the civil war and convince them to work together to face the MT threat, then maybe he could summon Leviathan after they’d driven the MTs from the city.
“Sir, look,” Triss said, pointing to an alley several blocks away. Prompto recognized more militia, Matteo’s gray head just visible from this distance. Matteo hadn’t spotted them yet and Prompto had no way of knowing how many people he’d found. “Looks like we can flank them. Will we lead the charge?”
Prompto took a long breath, letting it out slowly. He glanced at the people behind him, only three dozen strong at this point, and the all but open courtyard between them and a hundred MTs. “Yes,” he said, drawing himself up. “We’ll use the distraction Matteo can give us. I have to get to Regent Alena. She’s the only one who can unite everyone. Cover me.”
He stepped out of the alley, preparing to summon his shield magic no matter how unwieldy it was, when Triss yanked him back. “Wait, sir! Look!” She pointed in the opposite direction at a fallen drop ship, half submerged in the water only a couple buildings away. There was a pile of MTs, all crackling in the red tinged smoke of death.
And beside it, discarded, was one of the Magitek flying scooters. Prompto’s eyes widened and Triss’s chin jerked in confirmation. “We’ll distract them. Fly to the altar and talk some sense into that brat.” She shoved him. “Now go! The rest of you, with me!”
The militia cried out as Triss burst from cover and Prompto didn’t waste a moment. He ducked before sprinting in the opposite direction. The cries of his allies and the ear-shattering percussion of bullets crashing around his heels drove him faster, nearly flying over the debris in his wake. He reached the dropship and skidded to a stop, grasping onto the handles of the bike and dragging it behind cover with more strength than he’d normally be able to exert, adrenaline so high he hardly felt the strain. He flipped it into its upright position, giving it a cursory scan to make sure it wouldn’t explode between his legs before jumping on.
“C’mon, c’mon,” Prompto chanted, doing his damndest to start the thing. It was damaged, but not inoperable as it roared to life beneath his fingers. “You ever fly one of these things?” he asked Asa.
You bet I have. Let’s go.
Prompto didn’t hesitate, leaping onto the roaring machine and screaming in elation when it propelled him into the sky. If anyone was firing at him, he didn’t notice, eyes only for his destination. Prompto yelped as he began his descent almost immediately, the short distance between him and the altar closing in almost faster than he could react. These damn things were fast! His landing was less than graceful as he slammed into the altar’s small platform, throwing himself from the vehicle as it skidded off into the water. He didn’t even have a moment to savor the look of utter shock on Alena’s dust-covered face before he was diving behind the archway as well.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” Alena shouted at him, ducking briefly around the corner to unload on an MT that managed to make it past her soldiers. It fell with a lurch into the writhing waters.
“Regent, you have to listen to me,” Prompto said urgently, ignoring her question. There was a roar and Prompto could barely see Matteo’s reinforcements hit the MTs from behind, joining Triss and Reginald in flanking the enemy. It was a good distraction, but Prompto knew they wouldn’t be able to hold out for long. Most of them weren’t even trained, and they would die in swift order if he and Alena couldn’t resolve their differences.
“I don’t have to listen to shit, imposter!” Alena screeched, turning her gun on Prompto. Prompto lifted his hands in surrender, flinching as gunfire slammed into the archway. “This is your fault! You brought this upon us!”
“Listen, you crazy bitch!” Prompto screeched right back. Not his most successful attempt at diplomacy, but he was at the end of his rope. “Your people are dying out there, and for what? What did Ardyn promise you that would make you think that a civil war was the answer? He’s abandoned you and you still do his bidding? Why? Call off your men, help us drive the MTs from the city!”
“Why should I trust you, when all you want to do is summon the Leviathan and kill us all!” Alena shouted, eyes wild.
“I’m trying to save you,” Prompto shouted, hot, frustrated tears burning his eyes. “If you don’t call off your soldiers, we can’t win this battle and all of you will die!”
Alena peered around the corner before lunging back into cover when a bullet nearly went through her head. Her breaths were coming fast and frantic, hands shaking badly around her gun. “Why did he abandon us? He promised he would protect us!”
“He lied,” Prompto said, voice cracking. “He lied and he’s not going to save you. You have to save yourself.”
Alena stared at him and the seconds passed interminably as Prompto implored her to see reason. The cries of the dying and the explosions destroying the city filled his ears, a din that would haunt him for the rest of his life, no matter how short it may be. This was her home . It had to be tearing her apart more viciously than it did Prompto to see it destroyed before her eyes.
After an eternity, Alena grimaced in defeat. She pulled a radio out of her jacket and finally said the words that could turn the tide of this battle. “Everyone, aid the Oracle’s militia. I repeat, aid the Oracle’s militia. We will push these daemons back. Together!”
There came a great unanimous cry as the news was spread and Alena dropped the radio with numb fingers. “I hope you know what you’re doing, Oracle. Prove to me that I didn’t just condemn my people to certain death.”
Prompto choked around a heady surge of relief, his smile weak as he watched the soldiers fight their way to the guard and the militia, Altissia’s people one once more. All throughout the city, other groups would be doing the same. They weren’t out of the woods yet, but now they had a chance.
Hope that they would actually make it out of this alive trickled up Prompto’s throat as he watched Reginald rally his guard, Triss taking charge of all of soldiers and militia alike as they converged and held their ground against the leaderless MTs. They were pushing them back. They could do this. They could do this.
A sharp gurgle drained all the color from Prompto’s face, lips frozen in a smile.
He turned around slowly.
Alena was staring at him, lax with shock. A line of blood trickled from her lips. Prompto couldn’t tear his gaze away as the last light – only seconds ago filled with such determination and fire – left her eyes.
Ardyn released the knife he’d thrust between her ribs.
“What have you done,” Prompto whispered in horror. Alena had only been trying to protect her home. Despite all her terror of what Prompto represented and what she feared his coming would do, she’d listened to him, changed her mind, and united her people. She was supposed to lead them to victory and see her home restored. Prompto had saved her.
The white marble of the archway was painted with blood as she slid to the ground, congealing in her flaxen hair. Her hand still held the radio, the crackle of voices on the other side muted to Prompto’s rushing ears.
Ardyn smiled down at the heap that was once Altissia’s leader and shrugged.
“I put a brat out of her misery before she muddle up anything else,” he said casually, kicking her boot lightly. Alena’s body shifted to the side before it tumbled into the water, disappearing beneath the depths and leaving only a smear of crimson as proof that she’d ever existed.
Prompto couldn’t breathe. All the elation he’d felt at the return of hope fled in an instant, a crest of cold fury crystalizing into bitter ice in his core, jagged and cruel.
Either Ardyn didn’t notice or he wasn’t bothered. He still wore the clothes he’d donned in the cottage, a farce of kindness and warmth, his curled hair tugging gently in the breeze. He smiled beatifically at Prompto, eyes crinkling at the corners in glee and his fingers stained with the life he’d taken so callously. “I have to say, I’m impressed. I never thought you’d make it this far, but sometimes I do happen to be wrong. How very entertaining!”
Entertaining. Entertaining?
Prompto sank. He saw the eyes of the soldiers that he’d lost that day – soldiers and bakers and spouses and children that he’d witnessed fall, a thousand more that he could only imagine out of his sight. He saw the once intricate facades of the most beautiful city in the world blackened and crumbled to dust. He saw every moment of fear and pain that this man had inflicted on the people he loved, what he would do to them in the future while Prompto was still so powerless to stop him.
Ardyn smiled at him and wiped the blood from his fingers, staining his white shirt with red and something in Prompto broke.
Prompto screamed. Jagged ice evaporated instantly in the boiling rage that scalded his tongue. He lifted his guns and unloaded into Ardyn. He poured all of his hurt, his hatred, and his fury into the magic weapons, unable to hear the bangs over the roaring in his ears. Ardyn jerked in place with every shot, face frozen with shock as he lurched sickly, the bullet wounds immediately weeping with black blood that stained his pale shirt beyond redemption. Ardyn fell and Prompto kept shooting, kept screaming even when he’d run out of bullets, even when his exhausted magic reserves gave a weak twinge of protest.
Prompto. Prompto, stop!
Prompto reloaded his clips, watching through blurred eyes as Ardyn stirred on the ground, starting to get up. He fired again, putting him down for everything he’d done to him, to Asa, to his family, and this world, ignoring the way that every shot that pierced the man’s flesh felt like a blow to his own chest, the tingling of too much magic use numbing his fingers and dimming his sight.
Prompto. You can’t kill him. You’re only hurting yourself, Asa said brokenly.
“I don’t care!” Prompto cried, hands shaking as he tried and failed to reload his guns a third time. “I don’t care! I have to– I can’t –” he sobbed as his hands steadied and Asa took over his trembling fingers, stilling them from their gruesome task. “I can’t.” He couldn’t do this anymore. He was helpless, had always been, always would be helpless and it would break him. Was breaking him. He couldn’t save Alena, he couldn’t save Altissia’s people, or Noctis or Gladio or Ignis or Jason – He couldn’t save anyone! And it wasn’t fair.
I know, kid. I know exactly how you feel. But this isn’t the answer.
“Then what the hell is the answer?” Prompto said, voice cracked beyond understanding. His arms went numb and fell limp at his sides, his guns clattering onto the ground, the reserves of his magic spent. “Do we just keep letting him jerk us around until we all die? What was the point of any of this? What’s the point?”
Asa went silent as a gurgling laugh came from Ardyn’s battered form. A bullet had shattered his arm, but it didn’t seem to bother him as he pushed himself up, heedless of the black that poured from his wounds. Ardyn lifted his head and both Asa and Prompto flinched at the bullet hole in his forehead, almost as gruesome as the blood that slipped from his smiling lips. “Yes. Yes, that’s right. You are nothing but my toy, my puppet, my pet, made to do my bidding.” He made it to his feet, his wounds closing before their eyes and his manic expression unchanging. He threw out his blood-soaked arms. “Entertain me more! Summon the Leviathan and I will call off the MTs. Who knows, maybe some of the Altissians will survive! I can’t wait to find out!”
Prompto felt himself sinking into despair, the rest of his body going slowly numb. Asa was forced to take over more and more of him as he sank into the darkness, unwilling to accept that this was how it ended – in utter defeat. “Prompto!” Asa said through Prompto’s numb lips, but Prompto could no longer hear him.
Asa’s heart galloped in his chest, sensation blistering through his borrowed nerves as he was abruptly given full reign. No, this couldn’t be. Prompto wasn’t supposed to give up, not ever. He was the only thing that was keeping them afloat, the only light in Asa’s darkness. “We haven’t lost yet! You can’t give up! What about Altissia? What about Jason!” He could still feel him, but barely, a cold ball of anguish in the center of his fractured soul.
But there was no answer. Asa couldn’t reach him. Prompto’s tears still poured down his face as Asa glared at the man he’d once loved.
“Come now, don't look at me like that,” Ardyn crooned, black staining his grinning teeth. “You’ll get another chance, I’m sure. You’ve never defeated me before, but there’s always next time. No need to be a sore loser.”
Asa felt fatigue wrap around his shoulders, more profound than the drain of his body and magic, and all consuming. So. This was it. It was over. For the final time, he would die here. At least…at least this time he would know peace. He hoped that Ardyn would know it too, when Noctis finally defeated him for the last time. His chest twinged at the thought. Maybe they would all know peace. It was a cold consolation.
I’m sorry, Jason. I thought with you, this time it would be different. Thank you…for giving me hope.
He shook his head, suddenly so, so tired. “You don’t understand. The cycle is broken. There will be no more lifetimes.” Asa smiled sadly, slowly drifting into Ardyn’s space without fear. Ardyn allowed him to, the cruel smirk frozen on his face and the shadows swirling in his depthless eyes. Asa tried to look past it to the man he once knew, looking for some sign that not all was lost, here, at this final hour. But it was a black wall of corruption without footholds and not a single crack for the man he once knew to eke through. “This is the final act; the final time we will come together like this. And I am sorry.” His voice broke, his own grief slipping down his face and burning through him with all of the regret and pain that he hadn’t been able to release for so long. “I am sorry that I failed you.”
Ardyn’s lips trembled, expression trapped in its manic grin. The shadows danced wilder and more untamed the closer Asa came, tears of ink falling to match Asa’s own and the distant scream of daemons audible over the symphony of the dying. He reached out and took Ardyn’s cold cheeks in his hands, wiping them away. He searched his eyes for something. Anything.
But there was nothing.
Asa’s expression broke, breath shuddering out of him as he dropped his head in defeat. There was nothing of him left. He was too late. Always too late. With a grimace, he gathered what strength he had left and allowed his magic to flow. One last time. One last futile try at the end of all days.
Asa reached deep within himself for one final push. But he was spent and it was like groping in the dark. Just when he was about to give up, a flush of cold power lit in his core, making him shudder. His gasp came out as a wisp of frost.
Jason, he thought in wonder, gritting his teeth with new determination. He let the magic flow, shuddering as it froze him from the inside, pouring from his arms with golden light. He pushed it into Ardyn.
Asa’s brows furrowed together beneath the throb of pain in his temple, the magic pooling, swirling, tearing out of him into the void between his fingers. The Scourge was too strong, had taken too much and it was becoming more and more apparent that there was nothing left to save. He screamed, pushing, pushing, pushing , but it was not enough.
Asa’s strength began to wane. Whatever well of magic he’d tapped was fading, and he was fading along with it.
Prompto never stirred within him, his core dimming with every second that passed and Asa knew that he couldn’t keep this up, no matter how much he wanted to.
With an anguished cry, Asa tore away from Ardyn and the void that sucked his magic down like a greedy animal. Asa’s light spluttered like a weak flame and he could himself tremble but he couldn’t bring himself to regret it. He had to try. One last time.
It didn't work, Asa despaired. It didn’t work.
“I will summon the Leviathan,” he rasped.
Silence fell over the battlefield. Asa didn’t even have to look to know that all of the MTs had frozen, leaving the remaining defenders milling in confusion. Heh. At least Ardyn had kept his word. The people would have a few more moments before the end.
Ardyn did not move. His expression did not change save for the slight trembling in his lips, blackness seeping from his every orifice and the still closing wounds of his body. Asa turned his back on him, staring down into the dark waters.
This was it. There was nothing left to do but hope that the Leviathan could see reason, but even that seemed like a pointless endeavor to him now, the world leeching of color as Asa’s will finally broke.
Asa, covered in blood, filth, and corruption, raised his exhausted arms and tapped into the power of the Oracle for the final time. “Leviathan!”
WHO DARES DISTURB MY SLUMBER!
Asa fell to his knees and held on desperately as the walkway lurched beneath him, weaving sickeningly over the suddenly frothing harbor. Water boiled and rushed as a whirlpool gathered in the depths and a great sea serpent burst from the epicenter, screeching her displeasure to the sky as she rose up and up and up, hundreds of stories tall when she finally reached her zenith. Asa found himself pinned beneath the monumental glare of one pissed-off Goddess.
Human! she bellowed. How DARE you summon me!
Her great tail thrashed in the waters, sending waves over the wall and washing helpless people into the roiling sea. Asa stumbled to his feet, eyes stinging in the maelstrom she summoned, soaked from the water rushing over him before he could gain his balance. Weakly, still frozen from Shiva’s magic and exhaustion, he rasped, “Leviathan, please listen! The people of Accordo desperately seek your help!”
Help? HELP? Why should I help my enslavers? Why should I help the wretched creatures who will never allow me peace?
Leviathan roared, nearly bursting Asa’s eardrums. His eyes watered in pain. He gasped.
“Because together we can defeat Bahumut!” Asa cried, beseeching. “He’s the reason you can never rest! He’s the reason for this endless war! Spare the people of Altissia and help us end him!”
Leviathan calmed suddenly, her gargantuan head drifting down to where he held on desperately. His eyes widened as he could feel her malice in writhing seas around them. Or, I could destroy all of humanity and Bahumut will have no more fodder for his wars. I will finally know peace then, won’t I, vermin?
“No, please! Listen,” Asa cried, heart sinking with resigned horror. But Leviathan was no longer listening.
With no people, there can be no war! I will destroy you all and I will have my rest! Die!
“No, wait. Please! If you would just listen–” Why was he still trying?
How could they when Asa couldn’t make the one person he loved most in this thankless world see? Perhaps he deserved this. Perhaps this was the answer all along. He wasn’t enough. He’d never been enough. And now the world would pay the ultimate price. Asa’s shoulders relaxed. He closed his eyes, wobbling in place, and braced himself for the end.
Silence! I have suffered enough! BEGONE, VERMIN!
“No!”
Asa fell as red engulfed his vision, but his knees never met the unforgiving stone. Magic pulsed, the unholy screech of Leviathan’s rage drowning out all else as he braced.
Yet the blow never came.
Asa gasped. His eyes snapped open and he struggled to see beyond the water stinging his eyes. Arms surrounded him, holding him close and he inhaled a gasp of something terribly, heartbreakingly familiar. The red glow of weapons that had only ever been used against him surrounded him and his impossible salvation in their light, fending off the Leviathan’s attacks with insulting ease. Asa’s feet dangled in the air far above the altar and the writhing waters below, held aloft by a magic not his own.
Asa couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe as the arms surrounding him slowly eased, and the face he thought he’d never see again drifted into view.
Asa’s jaw worked, hands clenching the shirt beneath his trembling fingers. “Ardyn?” he choked, and couldn't believe it was true.
But it was. Somehow, miraculously, he was there, staring into Asa’s eyes with a gentleness he thought had been nothing but a memory. Longing mingled with grief and regret on Ardyn’s face, deepening the wrinkle between his brows and pulling something deep in Asa he never could suppress no matter what he suffered.
“My love…” Ardyn whispered, too quietly to hear over the din of Leviathan’s storm but Asa didn’t need to hear it, not when he could see it shaped by his trembling lips.
Asa didn’t even let him say the apology, unhooking his fingers dragging Ardyn against him with a cry, heedless of the blood and filth that stained them both. He buried his face into Ardyn’s chest and sobbed, heart-wrenching hiccoughs that felt like they were being wrenched from the deepest part of him. Ardyn held him just as tightly and for once in so achingly long his touch didn't bring Asa pain.
Leviathan roared in rage and Ardyn threw out an arm, sending his weapons crashing into the enraged Goddess’ snarling face.
“You did it,” Ardyn whispered into Asa’s ear, voice saturated with wonder. “You healed me. I can’t feel the Starscourge any longer.”
Asa sobbed, his cries drowned out by the roar of the storm but he didn’t care as he shook apart in Ardyn’s embrace, the shattered pieces of him held together only by the arms of the man who had been with him from the very beginning.
Leviathan surged, shaking off Ardyn’s Royal Arms and raising a wrathful wave around her like a cloak, threatening to send it crashing into the city.
Enough, sister! a booming voice rolled like thunder over the world, and Leviathan shrieked as her storm subsided with unholy pressure, the wave crashing back down harmlessly into the harbor. Ardyn and Asa looked up to the sky as Ramuh descended, wreathed in lightning and otherworldly light. It is time to end this.
YOU DO NOT COMMAND ME! Leviathan howled, rearing back to strike her brother from the sky. But she toppled as a great boulder slammed into her from the cliffs, driving her down into her cradle without mercy and sending a tidal wave over the walls to more cries of the people.
A mountainous man lifted himself slowly from the earth, prodigious muscles uncurling until he stood at his full height that nigh scraped the sky. Titan’s rumbling voice made the ground tremble and shook Asa to his bones. We are not your enemy, sister. We seek only the peace we were promised.
I sought peace! Leviathan cried, and this time it was saturated with so much anguish it brought yet more tears to Asa’s eyes. The storm calmed. The water stilled. The people of Altissia lifted their heads from their huddles, watching as the gods convened around the fallen Hydreaon with awe and terror, knowing now how very insignificant they were in the face of Their power. All I ever wanted was to rest. The sea does not know grief! The sea does not know pain! I should never have had to endure this!
We know, Ramuh said with compassion, his voice the sound of gentle thunder. And with the humans’ help, we need endure it no more. Bahamut must be destroyed.
Leviathan did not answer for a very long time. The water settled back into a calm mirror as the people of Altissia stood frozen. Rubble settled in echoing cracks of sound as all the world fell still, the storm clouds above parting so that the setting sun could penetrate the darkness, sparkling off the water.
Asa and Ardyn did not move, hovering in the cradle of the Royal Arms, their chests pressed together and their hearts in an asynchronous meter.
It began with a single spark, crystal blue and ephemeral as it flittered away. Then another spark rose, then another, until the Leviathan’s form shattered into a million tiny stars nearly blinding in their collective light. Her body disintegrated and the bay sunk as the water rushed to fill the space she left behind. A small, humanoid form appeared in the coalescing magic, left behind as the stunning sparkles dissipated. A woman hovered in the air over the harbor, but not like any woman Asa had ever seen. Leviathan’s fins protruded from her shoulders, her limbs, and her head like waves of silk tumbling over her bare form. Her shoulders were slumped in defeat as she stared up at her two brothers who still retained their godly statures.
Peace… she said brokenly, and then she bowed her head. I will help you.
Between one blink and the next, all three Astrals were gone.
A tentative cry broke from the people, swiftly joined by another, then another until it echoed off the cliffs in a victorious roar. The battle was over. They’d won.
Asa couldn’t absorb it. He stared wide-eyed at the empty harbor. He didn't– He couldn’t–
Asa only moved when he realized they were slowly drifting back down to the altar, still miraculously intact after all it had endured. His feet alighted on the damaged marble and Asa gasped, looking up into Ardyn’s face as gravity regained its hold.
“Ardyn,” he said, but no sound came out. A wounded exhale came from him as Ardyn released him and stepped back, the red brilliance around him fading as the Arms dissipated into the aether from which they’d come. Ardyn stared at him, amber gaze as clear as the crystal blue sky the retreating storm had revealed.
His face crumpled in agony.
“What have I done,” Ardyn whispered. “What have I done?”
Asa inhaled shakily. He didn’t know how to handle this. It was so. Impossible . It had worked. Ardyn’s Starscourge was healed.
“It doesn’t matter anymore,” Asa said gently, voice cracking around the truth of it. It was over. Ardyn’s Starscourge was vanquished. Now, they could make this right together. “The only thing that matters now is what you will do.”
Tears slipped down Ardyn’s face as he looked at Asa without seeing him. They were clear, sparkling in the lengthening evening. He was beautiful. So beautiful and free. Asa lifted a hand.
“What will you do?”
Ardyn blinked. He didn’t move. “I heard you,” he said in a hoarse whisper. “I always heard you. But I didn’t believe you. The daemons didn’t let me believe.”
Asa watched him, his trembling steadying. “They can’t control you anymore, Ardyn. You’re free.”
Ardyn’s jaw worked. “Free,” he croaked. He looked at Asa’s extended hand. Still, he didn’t move.
“What will you do?”
“I,” came the trembling response. Ardyn looked out into the setting sun casting the world in a golden glow, face going slack with awe as if he hadn’t seen anything so beautiful in all his life. His gaze was drawn back to Asa’s face and he smiled with all of the relief and joy that had been missing from him for so very long. Ardyn laughed, a choked sob that cleared into a disbelieving chuckle, and then a burst of genuine relief that warmed Asa to his core. “I am going to live!” He grabbed Asa’s hand and brought his knuckles to his forehead before kissing the back of his hand fervently. “I am going to join you, and together, we are going to end this war. I will fight, and for the first time in my life I will believe that happy endings are possible.”
Asa laughed, tears pouring down his face, but this time they were from unadulterated joy.
“We did it,” Asa said, nearly swaying from the shock of it all. Ardyn released him and stared into the sunset again, hands outstretched as if he could absorb all of the warmth the sun could muster. “Prompto, we did it. We can win. We can win.”
Silence.
“Prompto?” Asa’s smile slowly fell. He closed his eyes, searching for his light, the tiny ball of hurt that it had become. Prompto didn’t stir. “Prompto, it’s over. We did it.”
Nothing.
When Asa opened his eyes, Ardyn was watching him, brows drawn together in concern. “What’s the matter?”
Asa shook his head slowly. He closed his eyes again. “Come on, buddy. Don’t do this to me.” Your family is waiting for you. Remember that they still need you.
Noctis.
Gladio.
Ignis.
Jason.
They all need you still.
I need you.
Only silence met his words and Asa bit through his lip hard enough to bleed. No. It couldn’t be. Not after all of this. Not after they were so close.
“Prompto, please,” Asa said, voice wavering.
A small glimmer fluttered in the dark. Asa gasped, curled around his chest at the flicker of warmth. He nurtured it, held it close. He was so incredibly tired, but he had to do this one last thing. Two hands found his shoulders and he looked up into Ardyn’s face in shock as the man’s magic poured through him, saturating them both in rosy light. It felt familiar, a ghost of liftimes ago, and pure . Ardyn’s magic had been restored and Asa shook with it.
Ardyn nodded encouragingly and closed his eyes, and after a moment, Asa did the same.
“Come on buddy. I’m here. We’re okay.”
The gimmer flickered and grew until it was a tiny flame, golden and pure in the sea of black. Asa?
Asa choked a sobbing laugh. “Yeah, kid. I’m here.”
I’m so tired.
“I know. I know, I’m sorry, I took too much.”
But…we did it?
“Yeah. Yeah, kid. We did it. You can rest now.”
Mkay, Prompto whispered, then fell silent once more. But this time, his flame did not waver. It was weak. So terribly weak. But it would recover.
Asa opened his eyes. “Thank you,” he said, and Ardyn nodded shyly.
“I’m still not sure I understand,” Ardyn said softly.
“Heh. We have a lot to catch up on.”
Slowly, Ardyn smiled, soft and warm and terribly sad. “I look forward to it.”
Asa grinned and the two of them watched as the sun set over the city. Brick by brick, Altissia would rebuild, and it gave Asa hope that he and Ardyn could do the same. With the time they had left, they would heal, and when the time came to relinquish their hold on this world, they could finally, finally rest. Together.
Asa breathed in. Breathed out. “Ardyn. Where is Jason?”
Ardyn’s tentative smile fell, and Asa’s heart sank along with it. “I don’t know.”