Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The last dawn before the intersection of worlds would turn out to be beautiful. Shulk had been up half the night going over the details of the Origin project one last time with the engineers from the other side. Once they signed out, Shulk had gone to bed but slept fitfully. When he woke he slipped out of bed, as silently as he’d laid down, Fiora not stirring, and he’d put on his coat and boots and gone outside into the weak half-light just before dawn.

Now he stands on the beach, hand raised to shield his eyes as he looks toward the light cresting on the horizon. The sky is cloudless, the breeze mild. Intellectually, Shulk knows there won’t be any sign of the other world’s approach yet. Still, he feels as if there should be something. A little thunder, perhaps?

Shulk smiles wryly to himself.

Not many people are out and about when he walks back into the colony. He raises a hand in greeting to the few he meets, and they greet him back.

The house is quiet when he returns. Shulk pokes around the kitchen for breakfast while first Fiora and then Nikol drop in. They eat at their cluttered little kitchen table, silent until Fiora wakes up enough to start talking about her plans for today. She helps Sharla out at her clinic in the mornings, so that’s where she’ll be heading off to, then running errands around the colony. “We’ll see each other again tonight after the intersection,” Fiora concludes. “Then we’ll all go and see the firework show they’re putting on for Melia’s anniversary.” Unless- “You didn’t need me here for the intersection, did you?” Fiora asks.

“No, you go ahead,” Shulk says. “The preparations are all finished. I’ll see you tonight.”

And that was Shulk’s last look at Fiora: her standing up and pushing her chair back in, looking down at him with a smile. She’d pinned back her bangs with a hair-clip, the rest of her hair shorn even shorter than Shulk’s – she’d had long hair for a while, but eventually decided she liked it better short and since then she’d started teasing Shulk saying maybe he should grow his out instead. Ah, Shulk gets lost in memory – Fiora, a twinkle in her green eyes, smiling down at him and saying, ”See you after the intersection, then!” A wink, a peck on Shulk’s cheek, and she leaves the kitchen, heading outside.

“I’ll be in my room,” Nikol says, more quietly. Newly a teenager and more reticent than ever: Fiora sighs but Shulk sympathizes with him. He gives no goodbye, just giving notice so they know where to find him when it’s time for dinner because he’ll have his nose stuck in a book or his latest project and won’t notice how late it’s gotten.

“See you after the intersection,” Shulk echoes, smiling a little.

Nikol heads to his room.

Shulk looks at the clock ticking down the seconds and minutes (and how he took it for granted, the slow inching forward of time-) and it’s still almost twelve hours until the estimated point of intersection. Well, he had a few requests in his lab left to fix up, that’ll take most of the afternoon.

Shulk finishes the sword he was making for one of the colony guards, starts working on a merchant’s broken calculator, then remembers to look at the clock just to realize he’s missed lunch. He makes sandwiches and delivers some to Nikol, then realizes he needs to buy some different screws and heads out to the market.

He’s home again quickly. Back in the lab, he loses himself in the finicky pieces of small machinery until the sunbeam on his desk has disappeared entirely and he finds he has to stand up to turn on the desk light, back aching, and he glances at the clock and it’s just one hour left.

They did their last check-ins yesterday. Just 59 minutes left.

Shulk shakes himself out of his fugue and starts to halfheartedly organize the workbench, and time slips away all at once, it’s 1 minute left when he looks up – and then it’s already happened, the clock has stopped.

The room seems to shiver. Balancing on the cusp of something.

He’s in his old familiar lab with the tools spread out over his workbench, his own Monado laid out partially in pieces before him. Blueprints and notes are scattered everywhere, but the books at least he makes sure to keep in their shelf, the huge map of their new world with all the rifts and fog areas marked out by hand and notes with hypotheses stuck with pins next to. And on the wall above the door, the clock he’d repaired himself just a few months ago when Fiora finally made him notice that it had started lagging behind. Good as new, if he may say so.

Now, he definitely notices.

That the clock has stopped.

Time standing still.

Together, they had said: the intersection will happen in an instant, a painless moment of the worlds colliding and Origin resurrecting everything as it was the second before impact, the worlds continuing as they were with barely a hitch.

Shulk can feel that something has gone wrong even before the landscape outside starts blurring and disintegrating.

Twenty years before that, in the light of a new dimensional rift in the woods outside of Colony 9, Fiora asked Shulk to marry her. Shulk stumbled over nothing and almost dropped his notepad; Reyn had been teasing him about it for years, they all had, from Dunban’s gentle hints to Melia’s careful questions to Riki’s bold well-wishes: Shulk, c’mon already, just tell her, ask her, what are you waiting for, Shulk…

They had been together for some years already. It wasn’t as if Shulk was never going to ask, but what with the rebuilding and the rifts and the new colony some soldiers from 6 and 9 had founded on an island discovered in the great sea and the struggle of setting up reliable communication lines with them – Shulk hadn’t thought about it. He still braced himself for visions some days, half-dreading and half-hoping. He still waited for – or expected to see – that one person again.

Fiora steadied Shulk, and he expected her to smile teasingly – but she looked nervous. So Shulk said, “Of course I’ll marry you, Fiora. I – yes.”

Fiora picked him up and spun him around and they nearly fell over into the rift, laughing breathlessly they sat down on the ground and kissed. Shulk’s stomach plunged with nerves, but Fiora grinned at him, and Shulk felt like soaring instead, just as long as Fiora looked that happy. Yes, this was the right decision.

At length, they cordoned off the rift and let the watchers at the colony know that no one was to go near it, then finished up for the day. They’d have to try to close the rift the next day. Wandering back through the colony hand in hand and Fiora jokes about running away to Alcamoth to get married, doing the trendy new thing, but Alcamoth brings thoughts of the palace and that brings with it thoughts of Alvis, and Shulk’s stomach drops again.

He can’t sit on these thoughts any longer. Suddenly, it’s like he’s rapidly running out of time to say anything, so that night, Shulk gathers courage to say into the quiet of their bedroom, “I think I might have loved Alvis.”

Fiora shifts. “Shulk?”

“I think… I still could. Fall in love with Alvis.” Still might. Still, no one had seen Alvis since the old world. Still, Shulk’s feelings did not change, even if he could not put them into words. “Fiora…”

She sits up in bed and cups his face in her hands. “But you love me, don’t you?”

“Of course I do,” Shulk says, and he never should’ve said anything, but if he didn’t then he never would’ve said anything, and he keeps waiting, keeps thinking that one day Alvis will appear again. Shulk doesn’t want to hurt Fiora, he needs her to understand, he says desperately, “I always will, Fiora. I just… I was the last person to see Alvis alive, and I can’t stop wondering if...”

“It’s okay,” Fiora says. She kisses his forehead. “Shulk, if Alvis left for another world or something, that was a choice Alvis made. You didn’t cause it. It’s not your fault.”

“I don’t think Alvis left,” says Shulk. “No, I know that’s not what happened. So then why…” Why, why, how, where, when, Shulk kept the questions to himself but they only echoed in his head, no clues left for him to follow, no resolution. Alvis couldn't be gone, so why did it feel like it had happened? Shulk tried not to think about it, tried not to think about Alvis, distracted himself with other matters but once he started to pick at the scabs, the threads, the question left without an answer – it all comes back. Just this once, he has to say it. So Fiora understands.

He loves her, but he’ll never be able to let go of Alvis.

Not when Shulk still lies awake wondering if he’s the reason Alvis isn’t in their world anymore. No, that’s stupid, he tells himself, Alvis was free to do anything in Shulk’s new world – and Alvis disappeared. (why? That’s what Shulk can’t let go of: why? Couldn’t you at least have told me, left me a riddle, a sign?)

“Shulk, how many times do we have to tell you,” Fiora says, fondly. “Talk to us if there’s something on your mind. You know me and Reyn would listen to you, if you need to talk about Alvis.”

Shulk closes his eyes. “Fiora… I…”

She kisses him, and when Shulk kisses back, finally it’s without a stab of guilt through his stomach.

Fiora knows about what’s in his heart and accepts him, and it’s too late to ever tell Alvis. Maybe Shulk can finally accept that, now, after several years have passed with no sign.

Twenty years yet before that, a small boy died in a tower among fields of snow and icy mountaintops. He laid underneath the pedestal of the mythical sword while the lingering spirit of a vengeful god seeped into him and took root, and finally he began to breathe again. He continued to sleep all while Dickson barged into the tower and found the corpses of all the adults who came on the expedition, and slept right through Dickson finding him and taking him and the sword.

He thought back on that memory many times. Of seeing the sword for the first time, and what happened after. He thought he spoke to someone, or that someone spoke to him.

But he wasn’t awake for what happened after, was he? Dickson said he wasn’t. And he was alone in the tower, because everyone else – his mum and dad too – had died. Wasn’t he?

Just him and the sword.

In a way, this moment tied him and the Monado together forever. Only, Shulk kept making choices, and so did Alvis. The boy who became the vessel of a god and was meant to die lived, and the stagnating world was remade, and the machine who was not supposed to feel grew fond of him, and in the end, destiny had nothing to do with it.

That’s how Shulk likes to think of it. But maybe, he’s just fooling himself.

He wishes he could ask Alvis for a second opinion.

Chapter Text

When the intersection began and time stopped ticking forward, Shulk took his hand-made Monado in hand and did not let go. Places and times and dreams whirl past, snatching him from his lab into a strange archipelago among the clouds into a fragment of the Mechonis into a grand hall from High Entian history into a desert strewn with mining equipment. The places blur together, Shulk closes his eyes and tries to focus. Tries to get a grip on anything, anywhere.

Eventually, he realizes he is lying on a flat surface. How long has he been lying here?

Slowly, carefully, Shulk sits up, eyes still shut. He clutches his sword tightly and tries opening his eyes.

“Nikol? Fiora?”

No answer, as he is alone in a dark corridor formed from intricate, multilayered, ever-shifting metal. He recognizes it as Origin at once, which means that at least part of the plan worked – everyone and everything they saved in Origin should have survived the collision, except-

Something must have gone wrong in the process to restore the worlds. Otherwise, the worlds would already be restored again and Shulk would never have woken up in Origin. They put this in as a fail-safe, though they hoped it would only be in theory. But if Shulk is awake and aware inside of Origin, something must be wrong, so he has to find out what and why.

Nikol and Fiora must still be safe and asleep, Shulk tells himself. Or rather, safe and stored within Origin.

The sooner Shulk can run diagnostics and find out what is wrong, the sooner the world can be restored and they reunited. And to do that… he should try to reach the center of Origin.

“Right,” he says quietly to himself. “Better get started.”

Sword in hand, Shulk starts to walk.

It is not as simple a task as it sounds, unfortunately. He is unsure of how long the journey will take. They built Origin to be able to shift and change as needed, so the layout could already have changed from the default it should have had when it was first activated. Though, Shulk has a general idea of where he needs to head.

He follows the corridors until he reaches a large open hall, from whence he tries to find a way downwards. He eventually finds stairs, though he could have sworn he walked past the same nook earlier and then there weren’t any. He doesn’t see a single other soul, not on the lower floor either, and he continues until he finds another staircase downwards.

Origin is not silent. There is a hum, a sort of buzzing that sounds halfway between ether power lines and the murmur of a crowd. It emanates from everywhere, yet never gets any louder than a whisper.

Once he even thinks he hears Fiora’s voice, but of course, it is only that strange hum.

It’s strange to be inside of Origin while it is active.

All alone, too. Shulk can’t even turn to his fellow engineer and say, “That fractal pattern Origin is creating in the walls, I didn’t know it could do that!”

They were many engineers who worked on Origin. Shulk worked alongside several High Entia, many Machina, even a few Homs and Nopon. On the other side were even more people, headed by that Nopon engineer. Now that Origin is active, both pieces should have slotted together and melded into one another, creating something that has its origins in both worlds while being of neither, something impossible to both. No one could know everything about Origin.

Indeed. Whatever the problem is, Shulk just hopes he’ll be able to fix it.

As he continues deeper into Origin, Shulk starts to wonder about another issue. If the fail-safe activated, Shulk shouldn’t be the only one awake. So where is anyone else?

Something about the soft noise of Origin, the shifting patterns on the walls, and perhaps just the knowledge of all the souls stored in here makes Shulk feel as if he is being watched. (Is he really alone here?) He catches himself glancing over his shoulder more than once. Ah, if only he had Fiora or Reyn with him. They could always fill a disquieting silence with light-hearted banter…

Just a bit farther, he tells himself. There’s no need to feel nervous.

He follows a corridor for a long while, hoping for a set of stairs to turn up. The corridor curves gently, and after a bit, Shulk starts to wonder whether he is circling along the outer wall of Origin.

Well, eventually, there has to be an exit leading deeper into Origin.

Shulk keeps walking until he thinks he hears voices having an actual conversation. Is he imagining it? Cautiously, Shulk hurries up and as he comes around the curve of the wall he finally spots the exit he was looking for – and a group of people.

They’re from the other world. That’s immediately obvious, even if Shulk didn’t recognize them personally. Seeing them in real life, and in such a place as this, still makes Shulk pause for a moment. Then he remembers himself and jogs closer, announcing himself. “Hello. It’s nice to finally meet you guys face to face.”

They startle and turn to face him. First is Nia, the ‘Blade’ who coordinated the engineers along with Tora and helped them design several functions for Origin with her expertise on Core crystals. Her ears flick at the noise and she quickly turns to face Shulk, expression breaking into a toothy grin. “Why you! Sneaking up on us from behind!”

Next is the man who Shulk knows only as one of Nia’s partners, seen briefly in the background of a call. He lifts a hand to wave and says, “Hey there.”

“We just about to head deeper in for search after problem!” says Tora, the Nopon head engineer of the other world. He flaps his wings. “Glad Shulk joining us!”

“Very glad!” chimes in Poppi, the artificial girl and Tora’s assistant. Shulk’s not entirely sure on the details, but allegedly, Tora built her.

Lastly, there’s a green-haired girl who Shulk doesn’t think he’s seen before. She nods curtly to him.

“Yes, I’m happy to see you too. Any idea of what went wrong yet?” says Shulk.

Nia shakes her head. “No, I can feel that something’s wrong, alright, but I’m iffy on what that is. Tora says he doesn’t know, either.”

“Is bird empress not with friend?” asks Tora. “No one else awake?”

“I haven’t found anyone else,” Shulk confirms apologetically.

“Meh! That not good. Is another malfunction?”

“I… don’t know, really,” says Shulk. “I suppose it could just be that we haven’t met them yet. It took a while for me to find you, after all.”

“So,” says Nia. “Should we wait here or proceed onward?”

“The faster we resolve the problem the better, no?” says the green-haired girl.

“Could the two of you fix the problem on your own?” asks Nia. “I know Tora likes to talk big, but you…”

“I’m fairly confident I can resolve the problem,” says Shulk. People always tell him he’s a great engineer – mainly, he’d say he’s just stubborn. He likes to keep working on a problem until he finds a solution, can lose days to tinkering. He did uncover the secrets of the Monado, like he always wanted to. Then he built his own. If the problem is just mechanical, then Shulk is certain he can fix it. If the problem is something else…

Shulk is trying not to worry. Yet, the nagging worry is there: what could possibly have gone wrong? Origin is intact and active, so nothing about the construction seems to have failed – so why won’t the worlds regenerate?

Tora chimes in, “Meh meh, Nia just skeptic. Tora fix problem in snap of wings!”

“And Poppi!” Poppi adds. “Nia not to worry, Poppi assist too!”

“Right,” says Nia’s partner. “Shall we get a move on, then?”

“Yes, let’s.”

Deeper inside of Origin, and the architecture becomes a lot… airier. A vast cavernous space with floating walkways and towers suspended in the air, and from the depths, a strange red fog is welling up. “What that fog?” Poppi asks.

“I’m… not sure.” Shulk says. But his stomach is sinking.

Nia looks unsettled, frowning down into the depths. Rex, as he’d introduced himself as while they were walking, crosses his arms and stands next to Nia, peering down into the dark. “You lot didn’t design that fog to appear, right?”

“No,” says Tora. “Tora no idea where fog coming from.”

Shulk hesitates. “You didn’t have a phenomenon called Fog beasts in your world, did you?”

Nia scrutinizes his face. “No, we didn’t. Are you saying you had something like this fog in your world?”

“Not exactly. But something similar… matter leaking in from another dimension.” Shulk shakes his head. “Though it looked different. And this place was designed specifically to withstand and prevent matter from our two worlds from corrupting upon contact.”

“Is it safe to carry on walking through this?” Linka says, the green-haired girl had told Shulk her name at the same time as Rex.

“Only one way for finding out!” says Poppi cheerfully, and skips forward onto a bridge before anyone can stop her.

“Poppi!” cries her creator.

Poppi stops in the middle of the bridge, carefully crouches down, and sticks her hand into a drifting tendril of fog… and nothing happens. “It fine!” she says, turning to look at them. She waves her hand at them. “Fog just fog! Poppi fine.”

Tora scurries after her to check for himself that she’s fine, Linka right behind him.

Nia, Rex and Shulk share a look. “She sure is energetic, isn’t she?” Shulk comments mildly.

Nia and Rex both laugh, to Shulk's pleasure. “She hasn’t lost even a bit of her energy, even after all these years,” Nia says. “Nothing ever keeps her down for long.”

“She’s been a real lifesaver many times,” Rex agrees.

Something about the expressions on their faces, or maybe the way they said those things, makes Shulk abruptly think that they must be parents, too. He can’t remember if Nia ever mentioned any children – they didn’t speak much, Melia coordinated the project from their side and did most of the talking while Shulk mostly only spoke about engineering details with Tora – but suddenly, Shulk just knows.

The background hum of Origin sounds unusually bright and tinkling for a moment, and Shulk imagines the sound of a child’s laughter-

Shulk shakes his head. His nerves are fraying so quickly in here; he needs to get a grip.

(is something watching them?)

The sooner they fix the problem, the sooner Shulk will be reunited with Nikol and Fiora and everyone else. “Let’s continue,” he says, and Nia and Rex follow after him onto the bridge.

A gift from Alvis, Melia had called it, and that’s what they based the core of Origin on. Much like the Homs (machine) in own person, Origin turns out to be very… cryptic. It’s strange, Shulk shouldn’t refer to Origin as if it were a sentient entity, but there’s no other word Shulk can think of than ‘cryptic’. The layout of the floors is strange, shifting, sometimes it feels as if it shifts to accommodate to them in real-time as they walk through. There’s the noise, and the feeling of being watched, and the strange red fog, and the actual problem – whatever it is that’s waiting for them in the core.

Past the bridges across the chasm is another set of corridors, large and open like hangars. They’ve just rounded a corner when suddenly, there’s movement up ahead – and a strange shape takes form out of the drifting red fog. No, several shapes. Creatures.

“What the hell are those?” Nia exclaims.

Shulk draws his sword. Whatever those things are, they are not supposed to be here. True, Origin was built to be capable of defending itself, and could theoretically create some sort of sentries – but these ones are wreathed in that ominous fog, or something similar, bristling with purple energy. Their appearance alone is unsettling, hostile. That they turn around and start hurrying towards them like a pack of Volffs clearly doesn’t speak for their friendliness either.

Everyone draws their weapons just in time, as then the swarm tries to surround them. Shulk takes out three of them with a wide sweep of his sword and the things just collapse, like a pile of metal pieces were just shoddily together glued by the fog. That fog steams from the wrecks he felled like ether would pour from a cadaver.

But there are more creatures, melting out of the fog and leaping at them.

Shulk cuts any creature that approaches him down, then fends off the ones attacking Linka. Her weapon doesn’t seem as effective against them, or maybe-

But the fog clings to them, and more creatures take shape within. The ones Shulk just cut down seem to reassemble and rise again.

“Is there no end to them?” Rex exclaims with frustration, swords flashing as he spins and slashes.

“Let’s try something different,” Nia grits out. “Rex! Catch!”

With barely a glance backwards, Rex lets one of his swords dissolve so that he can catch the scimitar Nia throws to him. As he grabs it, a string of ether shoots from Nia to him – or at least that’s what Shulk thinks it is – and blazes gold. Rex and Nia, both nearly glowing from ether – and Nia has manifested the sword Rex let dissolve – attack as one, and then-

The fog dispels. The last creature crumbles before their eyes, and then, silence.

“...huh,” says Nia. She looks down at the white sword she’s holding and mumbles to herself, “It can’t have been because of… no, hmm. The affinity link?”

Tora gingerly pokes at a piece of scrap metal from one of the creatures with the tip of his wing. “Nasties really truly dead?”

Are they?

Shulk pokes at a heap of scrap with the end of his sword. The metal, on closer look, has definitely been torn out of Origin. Were these real sentries that then were… corrupted? Shulk frowns. If he had access to his lab…

“Seems dead enough to me,” Rex says. “I don’t think we should stick around here, either way.”

“No, we shouldn’t,” Nia agrees. “Right. Let’s hurry on – maybe we’ll find more clues as to whatever these things were farther inside.”

If time passes in any meaningful way, Shulk couldn’t say. But the others start saying things like, “We’ve been walking for a while now, eh,” and “This is taking longer than anticipated”. Finally, Tora complains, “Tora tired of walking! Take rest not impossible, no?”

“Hah,” Nia sighs. “As much as I hate to agree with Tora, I’m getting tired, too.”

“My bones could definitely use a rest,” Rex jokes, agreeing.

Linka says, pointing, “That alcove looks suitable for setting up camp in.”

That’s what they end up doing. They don’t have any of the equipment they’d usually have for setting up a camp, but there’s no weather to speak of in here, either. Poppi produces a small portable stove from somewhere and turns it on for warmth, or maybe just the illusion of this being a proper campsite. Shulk has never felt temperatures all that keenly, so he couldn’t say whether there’s a need for it or not.

They sit down around the stove. Shulk finds himself stretching out his legs with a sigh; as usual, he didn’t notice any aches and pains until he stopped to rest. If Fiora were here, she’d sigh at him and shake her head. She’d pinned the cork-board in his lab full of notes to remind him to take breaks and eat food, along with Reyn, though his chicken-scratch was always so hard to decipher…

They’re alright, Shulk reminds himself. Just sleeping.

Sleeping, right, that’s another thing to do.

“Poppi stand guard while friends sleep,” she announces firmly. “Leave it to Poppi!”

“Ah, you’re sure?” asks Nia.

“Poppi not need rest, remember?” says Poppi. “Guarding friends is important duty! Poppi happy to take on most importantest of duties.”

Shulk wonders if he should still protest, but – Poppi looks so determined. And after that, well, perhaps sleeping wouldn’t be entirely a bad idea. They are Homs – er, humans and Nopon after all, mortal beings, so they do need rest. Don’t they?

Linka balls up her coat to use as a pillow, Tora sheds his tool-belt and goggles, and Nia and Rex lie down side by side. Shulk takes off his lab coat and folds it a few times, resulting in a lump not much better than if he’d just squeezed the coat up into a ball. Gingerly he lies down on the ground, head on his coat, musing that he didn’t use to have a problem falling asleep even on stony ground, wet or sandy… though that was a while ago…

The stove’s ether glow pulses gently. Shulk stares at the flickering shadow cast by its glow until his thoughts take on a life of their own, transforming into dreams.

He drifts.

He sees Nia in his dreams, and Rex. Mòrag Ladair and her partner who Shulk remembers from a video-call. A few more women and a loud guy with an eye-patch and a couple of kids, tussling underneath the table and they’re all eating dinner and talking and the words drift in and out, indistinct. The scene bleeds away, the warmth leaving last and now they’re in snowy mountains and Shulk watches a red-haired woman rush towards a huge dragon with five heads and leap up, cleaving one head clean from the beast. He wants to call out to her-

He’s somewhere else. Nia’s talking to Melia about the intersection and Shulk watches them, standing just behind Nia. She’s in a room with large windows and a sweeping balcony, a view of the sea just below and floating above is their half of Origin. Shulk watches the ocean until the sky turns red. Clouds roll in and thunder cracks the air and a great wave drowns the room and then, Shulk sees only water.

Glimpses of light through the darkness. Bubbles swirling around him, and a single monster swimming past. His hands are stuck in bulky gloves, his entire body encased in a full diving suit. He’s looking for something, Shulk knows suddenly and urgently. For what?

He has to… he needs to…

He breaches the surface of the water and he’s just outside Colony 9. He crawls up onto the beach, stumbling and dripping water, tearing off his helmet. Then he’s no longer wet, he’s wearing his own clothes and he’s twenty again and he knows what he’s looking for.

There on the sand it lies, gleaming in the sunset.

Shulk walks towards it, can’t not walk towards it. It calls to him. It has been waiting for him all this time. It’s the single fixed point in Shulk’s compass. It’s natural and inevitable and like coming home.

The red crystal… but when Shulk reaches for it, he can’t grasp it.

The beach disappears and everything becomes dark. “Shulk,” says a voice, and Shulk realizes the reason he couldn’t reach the crystal was that someone is grabbing his wrist.

Chapter Text

Shulk’s dream of the beach outside Colony 9 some decades ago disappears in darkness. Everything sharpens, becomes a lucid dream, or maybe – not even a dream. The hand around Shulk’s wrist remains, almost physical, and he follows it with his eyes up along the arm and to a face he had thought he’d never see again. Silver-white hair and smiling quicksilver eyes. Exactly like Shulk’s memory. Shulk’s shock comes through as he blurts out, “Alvis?”

“Ah,” says Alvis. “It would seem as if it has been quite some time since we last saw one another.”

So long, not since Shulk was a teenager and just like then, words now want to rush out of him, questions tumbling one over another – but with wisdom, or at least patience, which Shulk has forged through the years he stays his tongue. He should pick his questions carefully. More than that, Shulk realizes, most of what he would’ve asked does not matter. To see Alvis again is plenty enough; asking where Alvis went, why, how long, doesn’t matter anymore. No, rather, “You’re here. Do you know what’s happened?”

“Hmm?” Alvis watches him, head cocked. “You refer to the intersection, as you call it?”

“You know about it?”

“It would happen eventually,” Alvis says. “You seem to know a great deal about it, yourself.”

“You… have seen my memories?” Shulk guesses, thinking up more questions and hypotheses and answering them to himself, spinning further. “You know about the intersection happening because you saw it in my memory?”

“You could call it that,” Alvis acquiesces.

Alvis’s hand around his wrist has no weight, only warmth, like being held by light. Shulk’s focus had narrowed down to only Alvis, but now, he realizes they really are surrounded only by darkness. There is nothing to see, but Shulk can hear, whispers and murmurs like the haunting background hum of Origin. Is this still a dream or is it real? If Alvis can only know things Shulk knows, what’s stopping this from being entirely something wired together by Shulk’s imagination? And Alvis would be here, because…

“Despite the rifts, you seem to have done well for yourself, Shulk,” Alvis says warmly. “I am glad to see it.”

Shulk feels himself flush a bit, yet is determined to remain on topic. He says-

-someone’s shaking him.

But the dream clings to him even as it dissolves and his head starts to feel so heavy. “You best go, now,” says Alvis, fading in and out of Shulk’s vision.

No!

It’s too soon, but the dream disappears just like that. A horrible sense of vertigo falls over Shulk and he can’t even tell which way is up, and that person continues to gently – thought it feels terrible – shake him and call out and eventually Shulk can hear what they’re saying. “Shulk!”

Shulk blinks and blinks, then sees the dim alcove they made camp in inside of Origin. Poppi’s face looms over him. “Mr Shulk!” Poppi exclaims. “Poppi so relieved friend wake up! Other friends sleep like monster with belly full of rocks, Poppi not able to wake.”

Frustration burns in him at losing hold of that dream but Shulk breathes out, reminds himself that there is another emergency for him to focus on, and he sits up. “Right. Tell me what’s been happening, Poppi.”

Apparently, Poppi’s internal clock told her they’d been sleeping for eight hours so she decided it was high time to wake them up. But though they mumbled in their sleep, seemingly caught in deep dreams, Poppi couldn’t wake anyone. Even Shulk took a while to wake up.

Origin doesn’t want to let them go. Whether this means Shulk’s dream was real or not, he doesn’t know – he can’t know, logically – but he believes. If Alvis appeared in Shulk’s dream like this, then couldn’t Alvis’s soul be in Origin, too – couldn’t Shulk find Alvis, somehow? Couldn’t that crystal possibly…?

Shulk mulls over the dilemma of Alvis while he and Poppi get to work trying to rouse the others. Shulk eventually manages to shake Rex awake, while Poppi whacks her creator over the head which finally has him awaking with a grumble.

Poppi gets Linka up while Rex wakes Nia. She looks disturbed to learn of how difficult that was. “I dreamed that Pyra and Mythra…” she looks at Rex, doesn’t finish her sentence.

“I dreamed about the World Tree,” he offers.

“Hmm,” says Nia, frowning. Then Nia says, “Well, we’re all up now. We should hurry to the core,” and that’s that. They start walking again.

If Shulk suspected that Origin, or something within Origin, was watching them yesterday (or whatever passed for yesterday in a realm of stopped time) then now, Shulk is almost certain. They are being watched. Shulk has become certain of a second thing too, following the first: whatever the problem in Origin’s systems is, it’s no simple malfunction.

They must be approaching the core of Origin when suddenly, Nia’s ears perk up. “Shh,” she hisses, making a hand motion for them to stop moving. “I think I hear… footsteps.”

Barely a moment later someone comes around the corner of the hall they’re in, but relief immediately follows the brief alarm. Shulk recognizes Melia at once, and with her is Panacea and Riku – right, Riku had worked on Origin too.

Shulk hurries towards them, and Melia meets him halfway. She takes his hands in hers and says, “Shulk! I am so pleased to see you, I was worried when we did not encounter you earlier…”

“I’m really glad to see you to, Melia,” Shulk says, smiling. He squeezes her hands. “I wasn’t sure you were even awake, when I didn’t find you…”

“Yes, this place has become quite maze-like, has it not?” says Melia. She looks over Shulk’s shoulder and says, “Ah, hello to you as well, Nia. I am glad to see you well.”

“Right back at you,” says Nia. “It’s a relief to see you, let me tell you…”

Their group exchanges greetings. Shulk stands next to Melia as she and Nia, the two project leaders of Origin, talk about the final days leading up to the intersection and about what happened once they woke up in here. Shulk sees Riku exchange a word with Tora and Poppi – he supposes they all should talk about their theories for what went wrong with Origin – while Panacea eyes Linka.

“Continuing our journey into the core of Origin seems prudent,” Melia says. “Shulk, I trust you will be able to find a solution?”

“Ah, I’ll certainly try my best,” Shulk says. He smiles and does not say how uneasy he feels. It’s all just… speculation. The feeling of being watched. That fog and those creatures.

“Right then,” says Rex, stood next to Nia and smiling as she spoke with Melia. “The sooner we’re done, the sooner we’ll be home again.”

“Ah, don’t remind me,” says Nia, swatting playfully at his arm. “I’d so been looking forward to having a bath this evening, but then all this happened…”

They start walking again, eventually, still talking about what they’ll do once they’re finished in here. It’s not that Shulk never heads into the field anymore – really, he’s looked at enough fog and rifts to last a lifetime – but having a home to come back to makes returning so much sweeter. He wants to sleep in a bed at night and have time to tinker in the day. He’s not getting any younger, and he pays for it every time he forgets himself and works for days straight in the lab.

Melia walks beside Nia, so Rex falls into step with Shulk. He asks him about his world and they small-talk, for a while. Many Titans among a sea of clouds, two Titans standing in a vast ocean – ah, but not anymore, not anymore. Have things gotten better? Oh yes, a lot better…

Gradually, conversation fades away as the fog gets deeper.

The corridors, which had become large and airy, shrink again. Narrow, low-ceilinged corridors. A compact design. The ambient light dims, the fog deepens, and now, Shulk can tell that they’re nearly at the heart of Origin.

The shifting metal of Origin, black shot through with ether, stops abruptly.

Shulk stops to stare. An ostentatious doorway seemingly created from wood, a red carpet rolled out in front and tapestry on the walls of the corridor leading up to it. A few ordinary light sconces stuck to the walls, so completely out of place inside of Origin. And the double doors, worn wood with bronze handles, right in the middle.

“What in the hell,” Nia mumbles.

“Riku think,” he states solemnly, “That we not only ones in Origin. Must ask in order for Origin to create.”

“Yes, it would seem so,” says Melia. She frowns at the door. “But who could possibly have…”

The ones at the core of Origin must either at least know about the problem or be the cause of the problem. Either they are some unaccounted for engineers from one of their worlds, or – or what alternative is there? Nothing from outside could have breached Origin, not at the moment of impact.

“The answers we look for must be inside,” Shulk summarizes. “We must go on. Everyone, be prepared.”

Nia and Rex draw their swords, Shulk refrains, and in the end, neither matters. They step up to the doors which swing open, an invitation or a taunt, and they walk through into a dark, empty theater.

No, not empty. On the stage are three people, standing in the spotlight.

“Welcome,” says the person in the middle, spreading his arms. He is clad in a suit and long coat all in red, the same shade as the fog, with gilded details, long white hair falling down his back and two horns crowning him. “To my theater. I have been anticipating you.”

The girl on his left with an x-shaped hair-clip giggles, while the large man on his right watches them with a solemn face. All their faces are sheet white and cracked, shot through with purple energy.

There is something malevolent about them on another level yet, something Shulk can sense rather than see. Something off.

“Who are you?” Shulk asks.

“My name is Z,” announces (truly, no other word for it) the man with horns. “I am desire manifest, though that will mean little to you. I am the one who has stopped time, so that the souls within Origin will not be forced to face the despair of the future.”

“So you’re the ones preventing our worlds from rebooting,” says Nia grimly. “How? How did you get in here?”

“We were born in here,” says Z loftily. “Myself, X and Y were created from desires, one single desire-”

“’Born’ in here? What, just now?” Nia interrupts. “Something must have created you.”

Z’s brows crease at her interruption. “Yes, quite so,” he says. “Every soul within Origin desired not to face an uncertain future, to remain safe in the present, and from that desire, we were born, to take control of Origin-”

“But that make no sense,” Tora interrupts. “Nobody wish Origin fail!”

“Origin built to save everyone!” Poppi shouts.

“There’s no way anybody would wish for that!” Rex agrees. “No one would want Origin to be taken over!”

“Everyone wanted the intersection to proceed smoothly,” Melia says. “We all worked hard to ensure it would. The future is what we all wished for, that’s why we built Origin.”

“Oh, stupid people!” X bursts out. “Stop lying to yourself and get it through your skulls: we’re here ‘cause you wished us into existence!”

Y says, “The collective unconsciousness of the people within Origin hath thus decided, that we shall protect their moment of eternity so that the despair of tomorrow may never arrive.”

“Thus,” Z pronounces. “Time stands still. What if Origin failed? What if we lose something? What if after this crisis is over, something worse happens? Those are the reasons we exist, those are the thoughts you all hide deep in your hearts. You fear the future.”

Shulk’s felt ice sink into his gut for their entire argument, his own shadow looming over his shoulder. He’d tried so hard, they’d all tried so hard, fighting to be able to choose their future, fighting to protect everyone in their world. He’d done what he thought was right. Yes, he’d kept anxieties deep down of course, doubts, worries, but he’d kept working and looking ahead into the future anyway.

He thought that that was how everyone felt, that just the will to try would be enough.

But it wasn’t enough.

“That is an inaccurate description of reality,” says Linka then, stepping forward. “Uncertainty is daunting for anyone. Despite that, running away remains the most illogical solution.”

“Carry on despite doubt, that is what everyone do,” Riku agrees.

“Why would we want to time to stop? To be stuck forever in this moment?” demands Panacea, her spear drawn and pointed at X.

“Well maybe not you,” X says, skipping a step closer to Panacea. Shulk takes a step forward, keeping Panacea behind him. X grins toothily. “Aw, aren’t you cute. Playing the hero. Too bad it wasn’t enough for the rest of the people you guys stored in here!”

X twirls around like a horrible butterfly, laughs when Panacea attempts to strike at her and Shulk realizes – no, he remembers – with a feeling like ice water closing over his head that this isn’t all of it, this isn’t the beginning. This isn’t the first they’ve seen of X and Y and Z.

A dream, or a vision.

One road stretching through a grassy plain into the sunset, and in the way are three figures. Fiora draws her blades and steps in front of Shulk, demanding to know why they’re blocking the path. Reyn and Sharla too draw their weapons, when the phantoms come towards them, clawing for their souls.

Shulk and Vanea keep Nikol and Panacea and the other kids behind them, Dunban and Riki and Tyrea step forward to defend them. Melia raises her staff.

The figure in the lead raises a hand, and a wave of darkness washes over them. It takes Fiora, it takes Reyn and Sharla, it takes the kids. Shulk manages to shield Panacea, but that’s all, and Melia shields Riku, and then-

Shulk woke up.

“They wish for safety thou could not provide,” says Y. “Therefore, us Moebius must protect them and their wish.”

“’Cause you heroes couldn’t keep them safe!” X jeers.

They lost a battle before even waking up. Shulk remembers it like a dream, already fading, but the pain is real. They’re only here because they’re the only ones who got away – though Shulk doesn’t understand how that happened, what protected them too from being assimilated while Fiora and Nikol and the others were defeated by Moebius.

“No,” says Melia firmly. “No, I refuse to believe that they would all forsake the future. You are interlopers and we shall dispose of you as such.”

She draws her staff.

“Ah, ah,” says Z. “Let us make a deal, Empress. See how many of the souls in Origin you can wake up. Let’s see if you can gather even a fraction of the majority you claim to represent to defy us.”

“Why should I care for this ‘deal’ of yours?” Melia asks, scornful.

“Indulge me,” says Z with a thin smile. “Or do you really believe you’re strong enough to fight the masters of Origin?”

But it isn’t about strength or power, it’s about what will happen to Origin and everyone inside if they fight now. If they damaged Origin-

“Fine,” Nia snaps. “We’ll do it the democratic way. And when we’ve got our majority, we’ll kick your arse.”

X cackles. “Looking forward to it, kitty-cat~”

Nia strides out of the theater with her head held high, damn those bloody intruders, and Tora and Shulk show them over to where the data terminals are. Rather, the crystals through which the souls can be reached, modeled off of Core crystals. The halls of crystals stretch on and on, only pick a place to start and then begin.

Of course, which souls that can be reached is random. There are uncountable souls in here, so finding anyone in particular would be impossible. The engineers and Nia and Melia were a different story, they were made to wake up in case of a crisis. Rex and the others must’ve been close enough to get swept up and awaken – or something like that, souls and resurrection is tricky business. No one is sure about the specific details of how everything in Origin works.

They all find a crystal to appeal to, and Nia closes her eyes and holds out her hand.

Nia reaches for that drop of light, that single point where her intent can bridge the void. She thinks hello and sorry to disturb and but please wake up. She asks them for help. She shows the urgency of the situation, she tries to shape the threat of Z and X and Y and them keeping the world trapped forever in this moment into words of light. She nudges and coaxes.

Finally, a response, an awareness. We need your help, Nia repeats, and then there’s a light that burns even through her lids.

When she cracks her eyes open again, warily, a person has emerged from the light. She… looks like an Urayan farm-worker, if Nia had to guess. She looks wide-eyed at Nia. “Wh… what is this place? I thought someone called for me to help them, but…”

Nia’s stomach twists. She doesn’t know anything, she’s just some person.

“This place is called Origin,” Nia says. “Like the Origin project. You see…”

As Nia explains, she sees the others waking up people and explaining to them, as well. Some wake quickly, and some… Panacea seemingly gives up and moves on to another crystal.

The Urayan, Richetta, eventually says she’d be happy to help. “I’ve got to get back to my little brothers,” she says. “If helping you will make that happen faster, then of course I’ll help you.”

Richetta goes to pray to another crystal, and Nia – gets back to it, too, even though now that they’re doing this she feels quite sick at the thought, actually.

But they’ve got to stop those intruders.

If they were born from desires and thoughts, then, if they had desires and thoughts strong enough to combat them gathered behind them-

(but will it really work? How many would be enough? How could they possibly know?)

So Nia wakes an ex-Ardainian soldier, a Nopon child, a librarian with head-wings like Melia, and then a Blade. Well, all Blades are more or less like humans ever since the Architect’s last gift, and all humans are more or less like Blades after the technology they implemented into Origin, but this man is unquestionably a Blade – ether markings on his face and a pair of curved horns poking out of his hair – and it’s not that he’s upset which is the last straw for Nia, no, it’s how not upset he is. Awakened in some strange place by some strange person and he’s immediately ready to hear her out – well, of course, he’s a bloody Blade!

They’re just awakening people one after another like those trashy Drivers the Blades used to whisper about, scary stories at the campsite, back before everything.

What are they bloody doing?

The High Entia and Homs flock around Melia, looking to her for answers. And the Blade looks at Nia, expectant, trusting that she can fix things.

(what the hell are they doing?)

Nia turns away. “Oi!” she yells. “Everybody, stop! Listen to me, stop!”

She runs down the row of crystals into the open space in the middle of the hall. The others trickle in after her, looking at her with open concern. Nia waits until everyone from her traveling party have made it down to her before starting her speech, and she sure as hell wasn’t planning on a speech but that’s what it turns into when she opens her mouth.

“This is madness,” she says. Then, softening her statement, “This isn’t helping. Awakening a bunch of people isn’t going to work, that bastard Z isn’t going to listen anyway, and it’d take an eternity to awaken half the people in here. And in the meantime-” Nia gestures around her. “We can’t just keep awakening these people. Who knows how long it’ll take us to fix Origin, and in the meantime – what are they supposed to do? Can people even live inside of here for any amount of time?”

Most of the people they’ve awakened are watching Nia. One of them, a High Entia, speaks up. “We do understand the severity of the situation. I – as would many others, I am sure – would gladly lend you and Her Majesty our aid so that the worlds may be restored sooner.”

“Thank you,” Melia says, serious and sorrowful. “Though I am afraid Nia’s words are not untrue. We can’t let you fight this battle.”

“It’s our battle, too,” insists a Homs. “We want the worlds to return just as much as you do, so let us help.”

“Don’t think we’re strong enough?” asks a Blade.

“It not about that,” Riku pipes up, arguing. “Is not battle of strength or conviction, is battle of fate.”

They could argue until the Armus could home about who’s actually capable of helping with what, but that’s not what’s important here, it’s the fact that Nia should never have awakened these people in the first place. None of them were ever meant to be conscious inside of Origin.

All of this is all wrong.

They argue over who’s capable of what, and that everyone has just as much right to fight as anyone else, and who’s even to blame for any of this, and none of it is helping. If they’re arguing then their wills clearly aren’t united, they’re not strong enough of conviction to oust Z, and if they aren’t, then why would awakening more people help? If they can’t figure this out-

“I don’t wanna stay here,” a Gormotti child exclaims finally. “I want to go home!”

A Gormotti woman standing close to them shushes them, but their feelings have already been heard, already echo around the hall. Nia closes her eyes. It wasn’t supposed to happen like this.

A few weeks ago Nia, as the Alrestian leader of and spokesperson of the Origin Project, had held their final press conference reassuring the public that everything would work perfectly. When they first learned of the collision of worlds that awaited them, Mòrag and her brother and the Queen of Uraya had all argued against telling the public, that it would only cause chaos. Nia conceded back then, but as they actually began to build their half of Origin they had to say something lest the people start panicking over the enormous half-moon of metal hanging in the bay outside Gormott. Nia had done her best: spoken frankly, reassured people, yet not told them too much about what would happen when two universes shred each other in re-unification.

But apparently it wasn’t enough. (X jeering “’Cause you heroes couldn’t keep them safe!” sticks in her head). Something went wrong, something – and Z and X and Y jumped in and took advantage, like birds feasting on carrion.

Nia says, “We’re not going to defeat Z by doing something he told us to do. This deal… we’re just playing into his hands.”

“But if we fight him there is no guarantee we will win,” says Shulk, quietly. “And if we are defeated…”

What will Z do with them? All of them, their friends and families and entire worlds, frozen in time by him like a butterfly nailed to a board?

Regret in reverse: fear of the future. If we stay in this moment without deciding, then we won’t make the wrong decision, either.

But what sort of existence is that?

“We can’t just stay like this, though,” says Rex.

“Must make decision!” Poppi chimes in. “Fight despite risk, or not fight?”

“If we’re all trapped in here,” Panacea begins to say, but is interrupted.

A Tantalese woman pipes up. “Are we really trapped in here? Isn’t there anywhere else we could go to find a solution?”

What? Outside of Origin? Nia barely keeps herself from blurting those words out, but she hadn’t even thought of it. What even could be out there, if they’re essentially frozen in just the moment of their worlds colliding – or rather, stuck in the phase before regeneration of their two worlds?

Nothingness? An amalgamation of both worlds? A third option Nia can’t even imagine?

“Is it a possibility?” asks Melia, looking to Shulk.

He visibly hesitates. “Whatever is out there may yield some answers,” he finally decides. “But… I want to try getting through to Origin, first.”

“Think outside box not bad idea,” Riku weighs in.

“Remaining in enemy territory is usually not a smart move,” Linka says. “Perhaps we could find a solution outside of Origin.”

“But what’s out there?” asks a Blade. “What if there’s something dangerous? What if it’s better to stay in here?”

Nia shares a look with Melia, and Melia looks at Shulk, and Rex glances at Nia. None of them know.

“Could we return here if we left?” asks a High Entia. “Or would we just be letting Origin fall into enemy hands?”

“Better to do something than nothing,” the Blade who wanted to fight argues back.

“Let’s not be too hasty…”

“What do the engineers think, shouldn’t they know what to do…”

“What if-”

What if the worst happens? Or not even the worst, just anything bad? What if they all reject me and think I’m a monster? What if none of them understand? Never saying anything, never revealing herself, staying on the safe side in the shadow and never taking risks and letting chances pass her by again and again. Frozen in that moment of indecision.

They could be dooming everyone they love if they make the wrong decision. But as long as they hesitate, their worlds will remain like this. Or until Z and his goons decide to do something with them, but that doesn’t bear thinking about- they’ll face that horrible future if it comes, but right now, thinking about it does no good.

“Let us all take a break,” Melia speaks up. “Perhaps we will feel more clear-headed after a rest.”

They don’t make the mistake of trying to sleep after Poppi had to forcefully shake them awake from those cloying, strange dreams that wouldn’t let them go last time. They make camp along one of the walls, sitting down in small groups. Nia leans against Rex, who puts his arm around her, and Shulk sits down with his legs criss-cross across from them. Melia is busy talking to her people – yeah.

“Do you think they can hear us right now?” Nia mumbles to Rex. “Watching over us?”

“Of course,” Rex says, voice rumbling through his chest where Nia’s laid her head. “Do you think they would know what to do here?”

“Of course,” Nia echoes. “Well, maybe. They’re the bloody Aegis, though.”

Fighting all together, Rex at her side and Mythra and Pyra at her back, is the surest of herself Nia’s ever felt. Strong, invincible, loved – shit, Nia wishes so badly that they were here right now with them. The kids, too. Mio had started tagging along with Nia when she went to the building site of Origin to speak with the builders, running around and making the engineers trip over her, and Glim and Dawn were supposed to start taking lessons from Mio’s tutor this spring, too, which Nia had been meaning to talk to them about, but now-

“Your friends?” Shulk guesses. He and Nia didn’t speak a lot to each other during the project, nor does Nia think he ever spoke to Mythra or Pyra.

Nia sits up. “Uh, our partners. Pyra and Mythra, of the Pneuma Core.”

“I see,” says Shulk. From what Nia gathered from Melia, they knew of someone in their world who very well could have been Ontos. But that person was gone. None of that meant a whole lot to Nia, except it meant so much to Pyra and Mythra, so Nia tried to understand everything and learn more for their sakes.

“Y’know,” says Rex. “I don’t think they would be able to sleep through Z appearing and freezing time and trying to take over Origin, so they might be… I don’t know, maybe I’m just talking nonsense. But I feel like they’re fighting, somewhere, somehow, and I should be there to help them.”

“Well, they sure wouldn’t let Z have Origin without a fight,” Nia says. But if Mythra and Pyra couldn’t destroy Z and his goons, then… no, no. Nia shouldn’t make up scary stories.

“That’s just it,” Shulk says. “Origin… it is composed of so many souls that it could almost be... Well, I don’t think it would be impossible to talk to Origin. The core was based on our friend’s gift, after all…”

“You vote we stay in Origin, then?” asks Nia.

“I have something I must do in here,” says Shulk. “Ah, but don’t let that stop you. I… have no idea whether it would work, anyway.”

“No, you stay here if there’s something you need to do,” Nia says. After all, he’s the head engineer from the other world. If there’s something else he wants to try, Nia has no arguments against it.

Really, they have no idea what’s out there. Nia can imagine Gormott and the Leftherian islands and new Mor Ardain and the Elysian fields all she wants, but in truth, there might be absolutely nothing out there, or a completely dark void, Nia doesn’t know. The outside is uncertain and could be dangerous, even lethal – but they just won’t know until they try going out there. Sure, it involves a high level of risk, but nothing ventured nothing gained and Nia has learned to be tired of hiding in darkness. She wants to take that uncertain step outside, hoping for something good.

“Well, I’m going to head out,” Nia decides. “I’ll see whoever else wants to come with me, too. Maybe if we split up, we’ll find a way to fix things faster.”

“Then I’ll stick with Shulk,” Rex says. Nia looks at him, surprised. He explains, “I want to see if I can reach Pyra and Mythra somehow. Maybe if we get to the core of Origin…”

“Right,” Nia says.

Well, she’s been alone before. Not without Dromarch, though. Architect, she misses him…

In a way, they’ve lost everything. Yet simultaneously, all of it has been saved, just – out of their reach. So, no use worrying about all the loved ones they miss, when they should be thinking of ways to oust the intruders from Origin and regenerate the worlds again.

“Give Mythra and Pyra my love when you see them,” Nia says, and kisses Rex. When they part, Rex pecks her on the cheek. Nia does not blush. “Ahem. Don’t do anything reckless, alright?”

“I’ll try not to,” quips Rex.

Thus, it is decided. Nia tells Melia of Shulk’s decision and of her own, and Melia decides that she will venture outside of Origin as well. They ask if anyone wants to follow them, and all the people of the Bionis and Mechonis – of their new world, rather – stand behind Melia. The High Entia she expected, but that nearly all the Homs and Nopon and the one Machina they awakened would as well…

“We want to support you, Your Majesty,” says a High Entia. A guard, Melia might even have spoken to him before all of this happened.

“I am honored and grateful to have your support,” Melia tells him sincerely.

Most of the people from Alrest flock to Nia and her friends. However, not everyone seems keen to follow them. Panacea hesitates to leave. “I want to stay and help Shulk,” she says. “Just for a little longer. I’ll follow you later.”

Sharla’s daughter, all of nineteen. She is rough and pragmatic, but so perfectly meticulous in her worry and care, always finding the ones who need help but will not speak up. If she worries for Shulk, Melia will not drag her with them. Panacea should do what she feels she must.

Other people, from Alrest and the Bionis both, that are hesitant to leave Origin gather around Panacea. Still, most people do not want to stay behind in Origin. There is a certain quality to the air inside Origin, to the walls and the ceiling, which makes it feel as if one in constantly being watched. All of the souls within, Melia knows. But it must be unsettling to most people. In the end, however, their crowd splits into three roughly equal factions: Nia’s group, Panacea’s, and Melia’s own.

Shulk and Rex will remain, Panacea and her group staying with them for a bit longer. Meanwhile Melia and Nia will take the rest of these people with them and venture out into whatever lies outside of Origin to search for another solution. If they cannot find one, then maybe, with Riku and Tora’s expertise, they might be able to create a solution.

Anything is possible, if only they can keep the embers of hope alive.

They bid them farewell. Nia embraces Rex and tells him something, intently. Melia turns her head away and goes to Panacea instead. “Take care of yourself,” Melia tells her. “Until we meet again, may your spear stay swift and may you always find your path.”

Panacea nods. “You take care too-” She visibly hesitates, but ends up on, “Aunt Melia.”

Melia smiles. Melia herself often resorts to formality, knows that Panacea does the same, so it warms Melia’s heart to hear her address her as such rather than as the Empress. Melia could not be as present in the children’s lives as their parents’ other friends could, so Melia treasures every memory and everything they’ve ever given her.

Finally, Melia says goodbye to Shulk. “May you find what you seek,” she blesses him. He squeezes her hand, their version of farewell.

“Good luck on your journey,” Shulk tells her.

Then they part, and Melia goes to lead her people into the unknown.

Chapter Text

“Ooh, hey, look!” X is gleeful, delighted, claps her hands at what the stage shows them. “Origin’s creating a world for them to step into!”

“Marvelous,” muses Y, hand on his chin, watching, thinking. “The world looks to be a patchwork – could it be, their combined wills is creating a merged world?”

Z, silent, gazes upon the stage from his chair. The people leaving Origin are walking into a world, indeed – a combined world, a frozen world, an imaginary world. A world Z is seeing for the first time, and the first world Z has ever known. A world suspended in a single moment of time, sprawling, unfolding, Origin rolling it out for them like a carpet, the grand total sum of everything recorded in Origin and floating free in this moment. A world that could only exist during this one, perfect, eternal moment.

Eternity itself, one might say. Z’s lips quirk at the thought.

“Let us watch,” Z decrees. “As they spread across this new world.”

They walk past the halls of crystals and past the theater. There must be another way to reach the core of Origin than through Z’s theater, Shulk knows it. He knows the mind of the person who gave them the base of Origin, after all. Furthermore, he knows how worlds are created, how Origin came to be. There is always a little bit of margin to slide through, always a little room for loose interpretation of absolute rules.

Fiora and Nikol and his friends are not lost to him. He has to believe that.

Rex and Panacea and her group of people from both worlds follow Shulk, and Panacea comes up to walk alongside him, asking, “You think you can still fix things from inside of Origin, right? Is there anything we could help with?”

“I don’t think so,” Shulk says. He tries to soften it as an afterthought: “Well, I don’t know, really. But probably not.”

Reyn and the others always worked hard at making Shulk open up, learning to rely on his friends. But none of them are here, they’re gone, and Panacea is a child, and Shulk doesn’t think anyone would understand it either way if he tried to explain. Alvis appearing before him in a dream, how Shulk had not only killed a god but re-made their world, how in this moment they’re currently suspended in before the world regeneration process starts makes it so that they are both and neither in Shulk’s world and in Nia’s, a space of dream and memory and that just maybe… While his friends may not be reachable, there is someone else...

Namely, Alvis is here. Shulk knows it.

He has no proof, but he knows.

Panacea accepts his words, nods. Planning ahead, Shulk would wager. She was a largely unsmiling child, always the one remembering that the children should head home for dinner and bed-time and picking up the toys the others would forget in the park. Panacea asks, “You’re trying to reach the heart of Origin, aren’t you?”

(her parents, gone, unless Shulk can...)

“Yes,” says Shulk. “I think, if I can reach through to Origin, I may be able to reason with it.”

Is one way to put it. Z must have commanded Origin to build his theater, but that doesn’t necessarily mean that Origin wouldn’t listen to Shulk. Or rather, that if Alvis is here, then…

This isn’t a problem Shulk is sure he could solve with mechanical expertise. They’ve created something bigger than the sum of its parts; Origin, now that it’s active, could shift to protect itself. The souls inside it could affect it, are affecting it, are creating things Shulk never foresaw but maybe he should have. How much of this is his fault, Shulk wonders, and he wants to ask the one person who could possibly know, he wants to ask what’s happening, wants to ask if Alvis blames him for anything – it’s a little pathetic isn’t it, but Shulk so badly wants to see Alvis, now that he has had just a glimpse, now that his hopes may for once be realized.

Yet, he tells himself to be wary. That there is no way to know what awaits them further in.

“Once we’ve reached the core, it might be best you leave,” he tells Panacea. “You as well, Rex.”

“No, I’m stayin’,” Rex says. “Nia and I think Pyra and Mythra might be awake, too. I want to find them.”

“So are you going to fix things or not?” demands a girl from behind Panacea, someone from Rex’s world judging by the electricity sparking in her hair.

“We will try,” Shulk says.

“Try, and keep trying. That’s all you can really do,” Rex adds.

“You’re not telling us anything useful,” says another person, a Homs.

“The Godcleaver saved our world once,” says a High Entia. “These things take patience. I believe he has a plan.”

“They’re just trying to find some other person, that spiky-haired guy doesn’t have any idea how to fix anything,” says a third, sparking an argument.

“Hey!” Panacea puts her foot down. “You chose to stay behind, so stop complaining. We’ll leave once we reach the core, how about that?”

Panacea’s group settles down, but Shulk doesn’t forget their words. He shouldn’t.

The actual journey shouldn’t take long. But the corridors keep winding, labyrinthine, spiraling but not quite reaching all the way to the center for a good long while. The fog lays thick along the floor for the last few turns of corridor, and Shulk expects them to be attacked by those creatures again, though they aren’t.

Finally they reach the place Shulk was looking for. In the blueprints, it didn’t have a specific name, but ‘nucleus’ or ‘heart’ wouldn’t be amiss. Either way, the room has the same dimensions as they designed it with: a small, octagonal room. The seam between Shulk’s world’s half of Origin and Nia’s world’s half runs right in the middle of the room, where a console is installed. Laid into its surface are three crystals – Core crystals, Rex might call them. From Nia’s world, the green crystal donated by her wives along with a purple crystal none of them had talked much about. On Shulk’s side, the gift from Alvis: the red crystal.

Nia and the others had seemed so sure that it would react somehow, to him. But it never did. It was just a crystal, and Alvis never reappeared, and so they built it into Origin with the others and based most of the core off of it.

But now…

“This is it,” Shulk says to Panacea.

“You’re sure we can’t help?”

(and risk Panacea being taken as well?)

Shulk smiles. “We can take it from here.”

Panacea, reluctantly, nods. The High Entia says, “I wish you luck in your efforts.”

“Thank you. Take care of yourselves.”

They say their goodbyes. None of them personally know Shulk or Rex apart from Panacea, who may as well be Shulk’s niece. So Shulk tells the High Entia – a teacher, he thinks – to look out for Panacea. They nod solemnly and promise to do their best. Shulk wasn’t any older himself when he set out from Colony 9 with only Reyn and the Monado, but now, sending Panacea and these people out into the world on their own seems so cold… but, they can’t stay.

Shulk would prefer it if Rex left as well, in fact. Though Rex… may have significant experience with these kinds of things himself. Shulk would still prefer if he were the only one here to do this.

Shulk isn’t a god. But for a brief moment, his soul was entwined with Alvis which was entwined with the dying world of the Bionis and the Mechonis, and in that moment, Shulk was. So Shulk knows what it is like to be a god, and what it is like to recreate a world, and thus, he might be able to kick-start the process himself if only he can commune with Origin’s system.

But he can’t guess what that will do to the interior of Origin or to any souls not safely in storage.

To be honest, Shulk is making quite a lot of guesses here.

But he has to try.

Panacea and her group leave, Shulk and Rex watching them go. Then it’s just the two of them, looking at each other, and Rex cracks a smile. “Well. Better get on with it, then.”

“I suppose so,” Shulk agrees mildly.

Rex touches the green crystal, and Shulk rests his hand on top of the red crystal. Please, Shulk thinks, and are you there and I need your help.

He closes his eyes.

Years pass, or decades. Or no time at all.

Zanza doesn’t scare Shulk anymore. Zanza made Shulk fear his own anger, his own thoughts – pettiness, jealousy, irritation. Fear itself. But every Homs has negative feelings, it didn’t mean Shulk was special, or would become Zanza. With distance and age, looking back on Zanza only makes it clearer how little the god truly understood, how small-minded and self-obsessed he was. Zanza was nothing more than a god throwing a tantrum, and Shulk had cleaved him in two.

No, Shulk fears different things.

Shulk wonders whether he created the flaws in his world. In his darkest thoughts, the ones he keeps the closest to his chest and never hints at, Shulk fears that not only is he a god, he is a useless, powerless one. A god too weak to create a lasting world. The rifts caused by him somehow, the rifts and the black fog and the fog beasts and the intersection. Maybe Shulk hastened their worlds’ collision by recreating the world in the way he did.

If a weapon repaired by Shulk falls apart then the fault is his.

Alvis, am I talking to myself? Alvis, is this what you wanted?

Did Shulk create a world where Alvis, according to all laws of the universe, simply could not exist? Did Alvis let him create that world and painstakingly erase Alvis’s very own self from existence?

It’s enough to make Shulk feel ill.

Alvis, tell me I’m talking nonsense. Alvis, tell me I did not hurt you worse than Zanza did. Alvis-

No. Let me have it. Tear into me. Show me your feelings, all the thoughts behind what you said, all your secret wishes. I will take it. I swear I will.

He sees without opening his eyes, sees a cathedral with only one object of any color in it.

The sword, the most beautiful sword, the one Shulk makes copies and copies off. Sleek and thin as a rapier, buried tip down in a stone pedestal, bathed in light.

Please let me be worthy. Please, lend me your aid.

Shulk faces it on one knee, knows better than to touch the hilt. Not in this dream, not in this place, not without permission.

Please, let me see you once again.

“Shulk,” says a voice.

He opens his eyes and is, seemingly, standing in his lab back home. In front of him, however, is Alvis. Hand on cocked hip, smiling at Shulk. “You were calling for me.”

“Alvis,” Shulk says, relieved. Enough to almost feel faint with it. “You heard me? Are you… what is this place?”

“A memory of yours,” says Alvis. “So that we may have somewhere to converse. It could be another location, if you’d prefer.”

“This is fine.” And the matter is urgent, of course, but it’s just been so long, Shulk can’t help but want to bask in being in Alvis’s presence once more. “I would’ve shown this-” Shulk gestures at the room. “-to you in reality, if you’d ever returned. I would’ve shown you Colony 9.”

“This is fine,” Alvis echoes. “I suppose you could say that I needed to rest, after creating the world with you. I would have seen Colony 9 eventually.”

“So you didn’t disappear, after? You only went to sleep?”

“Precisely.”

That weight of not knowing but fearing the worst, that Shulk had silently been carrying all those years, is lifted just like that. Alvis still smiles at him.

“I’m glad.”

And, beyond the fear that Shulk may have been the one to cast Alvis out of their world, the feelings still remain. Shulk feels somewhere between nervous and giddy like he’s a teenager again, still nearly blushes under the look from those eyes, still wants to keep on asking questions and figuring out everything about Alvis like no time has passed.

“I missed you… so much.”

But many years have passed. Fiora, Shulk married Fiora thinking he’d never see Alvis again. He won’t betray her. Oh Fiora, he doesn’t understand what happened to her, he can only fear the worst but hope that she’s alright. That she’s only asleep in Origin. Unable to wake.

Along with Nikol, and Shulk’s friends.

He’s all alone, but no – Alvis is here. He’d dreamed of it, at first, though eventually he lost hope. To have Alvis back as a friend would’ve been more than enough, just to know that Alvis was okay and happy, being able to see Alvis and talk and do things together.

“Alvis...”

“But you were happy, were you not?” asks Alvis. “With your life, and the new world.”

“Yes, but I still wanted you there, too,” Shulk says. “I still do.”

“But you have your life already,” Alvis says, sounding, of all things, confused. “Did you not have what you wanted? You are only unhappy now because Z has frozen time, so your world remains effectively out of your grasp and you are unable to reach your loved ones.”

Shulk is missing something here. “Well, yes,” he says anyway, because Alvis isn’t wrong.

“You wish for my assistance in taking back control of Origin, so that you may return to your wife and son,” Alvis says. “Then, you will be content again.”

Shulk keeps a framed picture of his family in the lab, nailed to the wall so it won’t fall and shatter the frame. In the picture, Shulk and Fiora have their arms around each other with Nikol in the middle. They look happy – and they were happy – but that wasn’t all of it, Shulk still had fears and regrets and secret wishes deep down in his heart. Nothing is ever so simple as being with one person solving all your problems or being the perfect happy ending. Alvis, I want you there, too.

Does Alvis not understand? Is Shulk not being clear enough?

The picture makes Shulk avert his eyes, but then there is his workbench and the counters and cupboards full of his things – his tools, his inventions, schematics, parts and scrap and broken machines he’d been fixing for friends. It’s all too familiar. There’s the coffee mug Nikol painted for him in school, there’s the cork-board with the reminders from Fiora and Reyn pinned to it.

(they must be alright. They must be)

Shulk turns away, wills the scene to change.

Eryth sea of old, he pictures it and it comes to them.

“Interesting,” says Alvis.

Shulk can’t read the tone at all.

Shulk thought they understood one another. Understanding on the level of souls and rejecting fate together, where even if Shulk didn't actually understand the things Alvis did or said he understood the intent behind them, understood what Alvis was doing it all for. Similarly, Alvis seemed to know Shulk down to his every doubt, anxiety, fantasy. Talking to Alvis was like Alvis taking Shulk on a journey, merely showing him the sights and sometimes pointing out things Shulk would miss, but ultimately leaving the job of piecing everything together up to Shulk.

They had to understand one another deeply for that to work out. Shulk thought he understood, that what he chose was something they both wanted.

But maybe he read everything wrong and never understood Alvis at all. Took the wrong cues, made the wrong choice, and Alvis just didn’t correct him. Maybe couldn’t.

That was another thought that used to keep Shulk up at night. That wasn’t what happened, he told himself. But the gnawing doubt remained, even if buried.

“Alvis,” Shulk says. “Were you happy?”

“Yes. I was happy to be able to create a world with you, Shulk.”

“And after?”

Alvis, head tilted, says, “I was essentially asleep, Shulk. Not aware of the world or the passage of time, which is a state wherein emotions are hard to-”

“But after that,” Shulk insists. “Would you have returned to our world? Would you have been happy?”

Alvis walks away a few steps, looking out over the sea. “You wished for my return?”

“Of course I did,” Shulk says. “I… really missed you, you know.” He takes the few steps forward to stand by Alvis’s side, now noticeably the taller one of them. Then, because thinking about how long it’s been hurts, Shulk instead looks out at the sea. They look out towards Alcamoth together.

Alvis says, “Was I truly that important to you?”

“You were with me for a long time, weren’t you? As the Monado.” Shulk heard a voice sometimes, even before he met Alvis there in Makna he used to hear a voice sometimes in battle, encouraging Shulk onwards. “You were my friend. My dear friend. You taught me so much. I hoped to see you again for years afterwards.”

Alvis is quiet.

“I did not realize.”

The landscape around them changes, turns into the woodsy area outside of Colony 9 where rifts always seemed to reopen no matter what they did, so Fiora forbid Nikol from going there. Most people started taking the longer road instead, which followed the new beach, and the kids started playing out there instead of in the woods. In this snapshot of the woods there are no rifts, however, and they’re all alone in the dappled shadows between the trees.

Shulk realizes, belatedly, that this is the spot where Fiora asked him to-

“You were still happy, however, were you not? You married Fiora and started a family, the archetypal ‘happy ending’,” Alvis says, looking at Shulk.

Does Alvis know?

What Shulk used to feel, still feels, just talking to Alvis? Struck by the feeling anew just at the look in Alvis’s eyes – and struck again by shame, too, because Fiora isn’t even here. He should feel nothing but crushed, and yes he’s torn, but it’s just such a relief to know Alvis is alive. But he won’t betray her, not in any sense of the word. Fiora and Nikol are sleeping in Origin, they have to be, and the only way Shulk will get to see them again is by making it so that Origin regenerates the worlds like it was supposed to.

Shulk needs to get back on track.

“Yes, though I would’ve been happier with you there,” Shulk says, finally, letting this conversation go. “Alvis, do you know what’s happened to Origin?”

“I have been able to obtain more information, yes. This ‘Z’ figure has appeared to try and take control, so now you will try to wrest it back,” Alvis summarizes. “Yes?”

“Yes,” Shulk says quietly.

Another reason to stall: Shulk has never wanted to be a god.

Shulk holds out a hand. “Stay with me?”

Alvis takes it. “It is, however, up to you, Shulk.”

“Yes, I know.”

That was how they built Origin, after all.

He trawls through people’s memory of Alrest. Every person remembers one specific tree or stone or creek and together the memories create a landscape, shivering like a mirage but so bright, vivid with the colors of a place seen through a thousand different eyes and ears and hands and noses.

Rex travels through, not stopping, following his heart. He’ll know when he sees it.

Rex wasn’t sure what exactly to expect, but he finds Mythra and Pyra stood on a hill among the swaying grasses of the Elysian fields. They’re looking down at where the farmlands of the new nation begins, the area they’d sit aside on the new continent so that they wouldn’t ever run out of agricultural space again. They, of course, being the world leaders. Rex and the girls and Dromarch had left to explore further into the continent.

“Rex?” says Pyra, noticing him first as he walks uphill. “What are you doing here?”

“I was looking for you,” Rex says.

“Aw, you were worried?” Mythra teases. “We’re fine.”

“You shouldn’t be here, though,” Pyra says, looking worried. “If you stay here for too long, you might end up trapped in here.”

Rex jokes, “And would that be so bad?”

“Leaving Nia and the others to fight on their own? That’s not the Rex I know,” says Mythra.

“You can’t stay here for much longer,” says Pyra. “Don’t worry about us. The ones called Moebius will try to destroy you and Nia and anyone else opposing them, but we will be able to slip under their notice.”

“Well, as long as you’ll be fine,” Rex says. They’re right, he can’t stay here if the others are fighting out there. He should be out there helping them. But even so- “Can’t you come with me, though?”

Pyra shakes her head, and Mythra says, “We’re working on something, alright? Our own plan to destroy Moebius. And you can’t be here for that. We’ll see you once all of this is over, Rex.”

Pyra says, “Trust us, okay?”

So then Rex can only say, “I do.”

Pyra smiles at him sadly. “I love you. Please be careful. And tell Nia we love her-”

“Of course, I love you,” Rex has time to say. “I hope you can-” do what you’re trying to do, but it’s too late already.

Everything turns to black.

Something tears Rex away.

No memory could ever compare to what it truly felt like in the moment, but nevertheless, Shulk could also never completely forget what it was like to be a god and see Alvis reconstruct the world. Weaving layers of matter together, translating all the lakes and fields and mountains over into the new world, plucking the people and the monsters – their souls – and recreating in painstaking detail their bodies in the new world. It was incredible.

You flatter me.

Cell by cell. Grain of sand after grain of sand. Ether particle after ether particle. Down to the smallest. Detail.

No, Shulk can see this will be difficult. But even so, he has all he needs right here. Everyone’s memories are here, everyone’s souls. It’s all here. The parts and the tools and the blueprint, to put it in simple terms. The details would take weeks to list.

You need only create it.

Shulk knows. Alvis’s presence will remind him if there’s anything he forgets.

I believe in you.

But there is something else, pushing back. A great red looming shadow.

“No, you shall not.”

A sweeping slash of red that would cleave Shulk apart – stopped. By a barrier as thin as a breath. The shadow of a soul. A caress. Alvis, warning him:

You have been noticed.

Time is ticking down for him now second by second.

“I am the master of Origin.”

Shulk’s own sword a beam of blue. Clashing against Z’s wave of energy. Red and blue and sparks that char the edges of souls too close, they’re all bending in too close, pulled into the black hole that is despair that is Z.

“Your little friend cannot help you here. You are alone.”

It is crushing. Everything is dark, barren, void. There is no hope for the future, only darkness ahead, and Shulk must turn back-

Shulk.

What was it all for? Z is going to crush Shulk’s soul, and then, nothingness. If only Shulk could see Fiora and Nikol again, and Alvis-

Shulk, I am going to remove you from Origin. This is all I can do.

Farewell.

Chapter Text

He becomes aware of his body, first.

Warmth on his face. Ground underneath him. A breeze with the brisk, salty smell of the beach outside Colony 9. The crash of water against cliffs. The distant cries of gulls. Grass swaying against his face, golden-yellow, when he opens his eyes. Grass and plants with tiny flowers in bright blue and pink, too. Streaks of white clouds drift slowly across a blue sky above him, though he lies in the shade of a mountain.

Shulk aches like he’s been sitting unmoving at his desk in the same position for several hours when he pushes himself up to sitting. He takes a better look around and spots Rex not far from him, also laid out unconscious on the ground. They’re on an island in a sea dotted with other islands. In the far distance are spiky mountaintops, like the cliffs that used to cage in Eryth sea, though not the same.

Shulk crawls over to Rex. He’s breathing, but Shulk somehow knew that even before checking. Shulk clears his dry throat and says, “Rex?”

Rex groans. He hauls himself up to sitting, looks around himself. He coughs when he tries to speak, but manages, “Shulk? What is this place?”

It’s immediately apparent that this is not inside of Origin. Gazing out across the sea, Shulk has a sudden sense of déjà vu, almost dizzying, but he truly doesn’t recognize the landscape, not as it is. Only parts of it. Only, those bushes look an awful lot like the coral that grew on the floating reefs back in Eryth sea, and the color of the grass and the cliffs and the deep blue sea, and up there. So large that Shulk first did not even notice it. A sword huge enough for the handle to pierce the clouds looms above the sea, so huge as to only be a silhouette seen from down here. It could be no sword other than the one of the Mechonis.

What in the world is it doing here, however?

They’re sat in the grass but with the beach just below them, where a couple blue Crustips mill around in the sand. Behind them, a huge gray mountain formation shaped like arches and one rising spire towers over them, studded with enormous gleaming crystals in red fading to green and gold. Unfamiliar.

“I don’t know,” Shulk says. But he doesn’t sound quite convinced even to himself.

Rex, similarly, seems to find something he recognizes across the sea. An isle with a strange symmetrical rock formation almost like a roof on top of it, right across the sea from them, captures Rex’s attention. He frowns. “That isle… but no, this doesn’t make sense. I don’t think I’ve been here before. So how did we… What happened?”

Shulk casts his mind back, but things seem blurry. He decides to just be honest about it. “I… tried to take control of Origin.” He knows that much. “But… I think Z fought back. He tried to…” assimilate? Destroy? Shulk’s soul. Shulk amends his sentence: “We fought but he was too strong. Then, I think Alvis intervened… cast us out here.”

Out of Origin and into the unknown.

Rex is nodding, slowly. “Right. Pyra and Mythra said they were going to oppose Moebius on their own, and that I couldn’t stay there. I guess… Alvis protected us, by throwing us out.”

Shulk blinks at that. Rex seems so confident that Alvis would be on their side, Shulk doesn’t have to defend that opinion.

Shulk smiles.

“Yes, I think so too.”

“Still, that means we failed. So this place has to be somewhere different. Neither Alrest nor your world.”

“Indeed.” It is neither Alrest nor the new world of the people of the Bionis and the Mechonis, but it seems to contain elements from both. Neither nor, but a third thing. A new world created from both?

...Or Shulk is still dreaming, and this is all made up by him.

No, Shulk doesn’t think a world dreamed up by him would look like this.

Rex pulls himself to his feet, then holds out a hand down to Shulk. “Guess we’ll have to explore this place by ourselves, then. There’s gotta be other people around somewhere, right?”

“Right.”

Shulk lets Rex pull him up, then brushes off his clothes. He’s still wearing the coat he was wearing in the lab, of course. It’ll do for traveling. He’s certainly worn worse clothes while out traversing the Bionis. Since then, he’s also traveled alone a lot to deal with the rifts. Besides, he’s not alone now (though Rex is still nearly a stranger to him).

“Let’s start by heading to the other side of this island, how about that?”

“Sure,” Rex says, at once. “Works for me.”

They head inwards and higher up on the island, following ledges and cliff shelves of grass that snake in between the sheer stone walls and drops into the sea. There are plenty of Ansels flying above them, roosting among the cliffs Shulk would guess, but they pay them no mind. On the ground are Camills, their feathers bright green and blue with tailplumes of orange. An interesting new coloration to match the island.

Rex talks little. Shulk doesn’t know what to say, really, so he only speaks when Rex does.

The wildlife doesn’t seem interested in picking a fight, so they keep their blades sheathed.

When they sit down for a break before another daunting climb – along vines up a vertical mountainside – Shulk pokes around in the grass. Back home, he could identify nearly everything that grew in and around Colony 9 and most of it in Alcamoth, too. Shulk has no idea what the grasses he’s currently looking at are. One reminds him of barley.

He picks some of it and turns it over in his hands, thinking vaguely of his old notebooks full of dried plants, when Rex says, “Something from your world?”

“Hmm? Ah, no.” Shulk glances at Rex. “I take it you don’t recognize it either?”

“Nope.” Rex cracks a smile. “Honestly, it could be from my world. I’ve never been much good with plants. We all leave that stuff to Dromarch, Nia’s Blade.”

“Blade,” Shulk echoes, though he’s of course heard a definition of the term from Nia.

(“eh, it’s really too much of a bother to narrow down the definition,” Nia had muttered right afterwards, and Shulk had politely pretended not to hear that bit)

“Partner,” says Rex, simply. “He’s Nia’s family. He was always fretting over her, and then when Mio was born, he started worrying about her instead. He’s got a wicked eye for identifying plants, used to help Nia pick medicinal herbs.”

“So he was like her father?” Shulk asks.

“Not exactly. It’s not my place to tell you how they met each other, but…” Rex pauses. “It’s complicated to narrow down Blade relationships to just one thing. They’re family. I think that’s a nice enough description, don’t you?”

“It is,” Shulk agrees then.

He keeps that thought with him as they continue their climb. The sun begins to set and darkness fall, but they keep climbing. Finally, they heave themselves up on a grassy cliff shelf with a clear view of the sea and what seems to be no way to continue to climb higher. The mountain is just too steep.

It’s properly night now, and there’s no way for them to climb farther. The peak of the island lies tauntingly out of reach, looming above them like a dark shadow. Insurmountable.

Shulk sighs. “We should make camp.”

They kill an Ansel. Rex starts a fire while Shulk deals with the meat; since they’re only two he doesn’t bother gutting and preparing the entire thing, just cuts a few decent chunks out of the thighs. Meal prep always takes so long in the wild if you’re starting from scratch; he’d forgotten, living comfortably in Colony 9.

Rex then takes over for the grilling part. They don’t have any spices either, so it likely doesn’t taste very good. Shulk doesn’t notice either way.

Neither does he usually notice when he’s hungry, but after eating, he does feel a bit better, nevertheless.

No, they haven’t found any people today, but this is a nice vantage spot. They have a good view of the sea from here, and the distant mountains. The great sword blocks out a chunk of the night sky, which is the only reason Shulk can pick it out in the dark. The Mechonis had red eyes that glowed in the night but the sword is just a sword.

Rex stokes the fire then sits down next to Shulk, both of them leaning back against the cliff wall. The sky above shimmers strangely – oh, an aurora.

They watch it silently together.

They may as well be the last two people left in the world.

It looks like Daedal isle, is the thing. That isle right across the sea from them. Rex has been sneaking glances at it ever since he woke up – before sunrise, so he figured he’d wait to wake Shulk up.

They’re high enough up that even though there’s ocean right below this cliff shelf, it’s not a drop Rex would recommend. Sure, it’s water, but it still sucks to hit it from high up enough. Rex would know. Anyway, that means they’ll have to climb back down the same way they got here, and then…

It’s far to that isle. It’s the closest one, but it’s still not a distance Rex thinks anyone could feasibly swim.

Rex could if he had to, maybe, but Shulk? Guy doesn’t seem like the most athletic type. Definitely not a professional diver, at any rate.

From up here, Rex can also see some kind of huge aquatic monsters in the sea. Not just floating above it – though yeah, there are a couple of Serpronds as well – but actually swimming in the water. They’re not small, either – there’s a huge one with a head crowned by spikes which looks almost like Ophion, all long and twisting.

Dawn would get a kick out of it. Actually, this place would be a great location to bring all the kids to, if it wasn’t for the fact that none of this was supposed to happen in the first place. Titan’s foot, Rex wishes he could ask Nia what to do – she has to be out here somewhere, right?

Pyra had asked him to trust them, so he will. He will, even if he doesn’t like leaving the two of them behind – even if there was no other choice. But Nia, Rex could still help Nia, couldn’t he?

Shulk shifts next to Rex, starting to sit up.

“Good morning,” says Rex, happy for the distraction. “I figure we should head back down. Not much to do up here, really.”

Shulk, scrubbing a hand over his face, says, “Right. You’re right. Let’s.”

The way down is much the same as the way up, though they take a slightly different path to avoid a couple of Antols. Those things are always spoiling for a fight.

When they reach the beach, though, there’s something new. A couple of Nopon are disembarking from a small ship. “Are those merchants? Let’s go talk to them,” says Shulk.

“Oho!” says the first Nopon to spot them coming, blue-furred and with a hat and glasses. “Anini not realize humans on this island. Is happy to trade with friends!”

“Meh?” says the second Nopon, looking up from securing the anchor in place. This one’s green and quite fluffy. “Friends live here? Since when?”

“No, we just got here,” Shulk clarifies. “We had a… bit of an accident, and ended up stranded here.”

“Then friends sure to buy from Anini, yes?” says Anini. “Need basic supplies! Weapons! Sweets!”

The green Nopon shakes his head and heads back inside of the boat. Anini excitedly shows off the contents off her pack, but Shulk shakes his head. “I’m sorry, but we don’t have any money. Actually, could you tell us about any other humans in this area?”

“Humans in Cadensia, sure, sure,” says Anini. “There was big settlement in east of Cadensia, but it gone now. Wandering people travel west into Cent-Omnia, but also…”

Rex stops listening when the green Nopon comes back out of the boat, because following after him and helping him carry a couple of crates, is an artificial Blade. He doesn’t recognize her, though. Her stick-thin limbs and seams between joints gives her away, but even so, she doesn’t look anything like Poppi. Covered in red and black armor like an insect’s carapace with two iridescent wings, and green hair.

“Ino-Ino please to put crates here,” instructs the green Nopon.

“Ino happy to help!” she chirps, depositing the crates. Then she spins around, sees Rex and Shulk and visibly startles. “Oh! Human friends! Ino not know Anini and Viviki have guests, please to forgive rudeness of Ino! Name is Ino, and Ino is champion of Nopon!” she twirls, bows, and finishes by striking a pose.

Shulk blinks at her. “Oh, er…”

“Nice to meet you,” says Rex. “I’m Rex and this is Shulk. Say, you don’t happen to know anyone named Tora?”

“Hmm.” Ino puts her hand on her chin, making an exaggerated ‘thinking’ gesture. “Ino hear Oosoo talk about Nopon with name Tora, but Ino not save detail in memory… Ino so sorry!”

“That’s okay,” says Rex, though he wonders. He’s never seen Ino before or even heard mention of plans to build her, so she must have been built in this world. How long could that have taken? How long did Rex and Shulk spend inside of Origin? Rex shakes his head. “Anyway, who’s Oosoo, then?”

Ino’s face shines when she exclaims, “Oosoo great Nopon! Oosoo build Ino, greatest of all artificial Blades, and give Ino sacred mission to protect all of Noponkind!”

“Is right!” Anini chimes in. “Ino-Ino great help! Keep monsters away so caravans can travel in peace!”

“Caravans, huh?” says Shulk. “Are there several of them?”

Anini gives Shulk a look like she thinks he’s a bit stupid. “Must have seen caravan before, is Nopon caravan in every wood and every valley!”

“Ah, sorry,” says Shulk.

Rex decides that maybe they should just be honest about it. Even if it’ll sound outlandish. Better to just rip off the band-aid, eh?

“Actually, we just got here. To this world. So, how long have you guys been here?”

Anini and Ino stare at them.

“What? But that not possible,” Viviki says. “Where would have come from if not Aionios? Friend not possibly mean to say that friend come from old worlds.”

Shulk frowns at Rex, then says, “Well, in a way. You were born in this world, were you?”

“Yes,” Viviki says. “Hear stories about brilliance of old worlds, but-”

“Anini born in world of Aionios! So what!” Anini crosses her wings. “Is good place for trading.”

“Grammypon of Viviki tell stories, that grampypon of grammypon tell. But Viviki not see old world for self. Soon stories be forgotten even by youngsterpon.”

Grandmother’s grandfather… Titan’s foot, how long has it been?

“If friends really from old world, should see the Queen!” Ino says.

“The Queen?” Shulk repeats.

“Queen Nia of Agnus!” Ino chirps. “Oh, Anini and Viviki can take friends to her!”

“Hey!” says Anini. “Still need to gather materials here before can leave!”

“We’ll help,” Rex says immediately. The faster they can see her, the better.

They built towns and watched those towns burn to Moebius, watched their friends have children and watched those children be killed or join Moebius. Old friends disappeared while their grandchildren lived on and had children of their own, and Nia and Melia and Linka and the others who came directly from Origin never aged a day. Because not a single day passed, not truly.

They invented new methods to kill Moebius, and they hunted each other. Endlessly.

One day like any other, Melia tells Nia she has a secret she wants to show her.

“What’s all this, then,” says Nia, but she gets in the transport and closes her eyes when Melia tells her, lets Melia put her hands over Nia’s eyes to make sure she isn’t peeking. It’s such a childish little thing, but Melia seems so pleased about it. Her hands are cool against Nia’s face, her body warm against Nia’s back.

“We have arrived. You may look now,” Melia says against Nia’s ear, withdrawing her hands.

It’s a villa built in Kevesi style, but very weathered, with a backdrop of Erythia sea. The round building has several storeys and two smaller platforms, attaching to the main building with bridges. Not a fortress, not an outpost, just a villa.

“Come,” Melia says, drawing Nia into the villa with her. “This was originally from my world,” Melia explains. “On the roof was a transporter to Alcamoth. Now, however, it is just a building. I thought that it might do as a… little getaway, of sorts. For us.”

Inside it is sparsely furnished, of course, but there’s a table set for two, and behind a partition screen another area is set up with beds and a bookshelf. A few paintings and trinkets, too, and altogether it really…

“What do you think?” Melia asks.

“For us, you said,” Nia repeats. The gesture feels overwhelming. Beyond overwhelming. It’s been so long since she last was with Pyra and Mythra and Rex, so long since Pyra last brewed her a cup of tea and kissed her, since Mythra got her something from one of her trips ‘just ‘cause’ or Rex made her favorite for breakfast, since she last had a home carved out together with someone. But now Melia, fierce strong somewhat formal and stiff Melia, is carving out a space for this softness. For her. For them.

Nia’s voice wavers. “Hah. You’re a right sap, aren’t you.”

“I want you to always have somewhere to go,” Melia says. “Somewhere to remind you of me.”

It’s so many gestures wrapped up in one. Nia’s never been a bloody poet, so she pulls Melia down so she can kiss her. “Thank you,” she says against her lips.

The trees don’t grow in Aionios unless someone’s watching. A world with no history. No one will remember this but that doesn’t mean it didn’t have meaning. Just that it existed, that they had it for a time, was enough. Just existing is enough.

(somewhere, Moebius is laughing)

It’s not that Nia believes Rex is dead, or that she will never see Mythra and Pyra again. Though both may very well be true. But no, Nia doesn’t believe that.

When Nia first kisses Melia, it’s not even for a good reason.

Melia is forging a sword (Nia is not supposed to know about it). She looks hollowed out whenever she’s been working on it, so Nia can tell. Even if they’re communicating in light from opposite ends of Aionios, Nia can tell, but especially now that they’re together in Keves Castle.

Immortality is loneliness. The ghosts of her partners are like a hole in her chest some nights (but Nia is young yet, not even a century into the war; everything hurts like the first time ever, not whittled down by time) and when Melia looks sad, Nia thinks, we are the same. So she kisses Melia, then apologizes for it, then Melia says it’s okay, then she asks if it’s okay, and Nia says, “It’s just us left, isn’t it so?”

Melia’s smile is the absence of light. “If that is how you put it.”

“You’re not a substitute, alright? You’re my best friend.”

“I should hope so,” Melia says, playing at haughtiness. But she’s softened. “I must apologize. I am not very well versed in this subject…”

Nia leers. “I can teach you,” she says, so that Melia will giggle, shocked, putting a hand over her mouth as if she is a little scandalized.

They can have fun together and that in itself is good enough, just to keep smiling, keep the warmth alive. Keep each other going forward. Keep the light alive. It doesn’t have to mean anything else, or be something big which Nia will have to explain once their worlds finally return and Nia can see everyone again. It can just be something to keep them warm.

But that’s how it starts.

The Nopon take them across the sea to the closest isle, a place they call Daedal isle (“Knew it,” Rex says underneath his breath at that). They dock at a cliff jutting out from the side at the back of the island, then walk up through a cliffy, grassy region and come into a forest with yellow leaves. Following the grasslands farther along the edge of the island they reach a High Entia ruin – Shulk’s surprised to recognize it.

The Nopon start to lead them towards the building. “Here, really?” Shulk can’t help but ask.

Rex glances at him.

“It’s just, this building used to exist in my world…”

Ino inputs a code by the door and it slides open. “Friends please to hurry inside!”

“Poppi?” comes a voice from inside. “Are you back already?”

Rex rushes forward when he hears that voice, and yes, it is Nia. Shulk stays back by the door as it closes, Anini and Viviki bustling off to the side while Ino skips up to Rex and Nia, who are embracing. Nia’s holding onto Rex’s forearms and staring up at his face like she can hardly believe her eyes, like she hasn’t seen him in years. “Rex…” she touches his face with just her fingertips first, then cups his face, and Rex closes his eyes and leans into the touch.

Nia leans in to kiss him, then, and Shulk turns his eyes away, chest aching. Wherever Fiora is, it is well out of his reach. Out of his reach to even know if she’s alright.

Eventually, Nia takes a step away from Rex, though she keeps holding his hand. “Ahem,” she says. “It is truly a wondrous occasion that we may meet again, Shulk. The years since we departed Origin have been long and hard indeed.”

Shulk smiles at her. “Ah, there’s no need to be so formal. I’m very glad to see you alright...”

Nia winces. “Sorry, habit. Hah, it’s not as if I’m any good at acting the queen anyway.”

“No, I refuse to believe that,” says Rex. “I’m sure you’re magnificent.”

“Oh hush, you,” says Nia, swatting at his arm. Rex smiles at her like she’s his sun. But then… Nia sighs. “You only say that because you haven’t seen me, making a mess of things. It’s been so long...”

They look at each other in silence for a long moment. Shulk sometimes has trouble reading people, and now, he can’t tell whether they’re staring deeply into each other’s eyes because they know each other so well words are superfluous, or whether they simply… don’t have anything to say.

“You’ve changed,” Rex observes, finally.

“Well,” says Nia, dryly. “It’s been a couple of lifetimes, hasn’t it.”

“Lifetimes?” Rex echoes, stricken. “I figured it had been a while, but…”

“A few centuries, at least,” Nia says.

It sounds absurd. Abstract. How could so much time possibly have passed, enough time for Nikol to grow up and die, for his grandchildren to have grown up and died – while none of them has aged a day. Everything is slipping through their fingers – with this much time, anything could have happened. This much time and they’re still here.

Shulk could believe, at first, that it’d take a few days to fix the error. If they were unlucky, weeks.

Now Nia says it’s been centuries.

And if already so much time has passed, then all of Shulk’s estimates are out on the water. What if this is only the beginning? What if it’ll take many more centuries before they can reboot the worlds? How long is this going to last?

Nia says, frowning, “So, I suppose you two must’ve been in Origin all this time, not realizing time was passing. Is that right?”

Shulk and Rex look at each other, horror reflected in each other’s faces.

“I had no idea,” Shulk says. “I tried to appeal to Origin, to start the reboot process, but it failed…”

“It didn’t feel that long,” agrees Rex.

“Right.” Nia sighs. “Come along, then. I’ve got a lot of things to tell you, so we might as well sit down and have a cuppa.”

The kitchen, another section of the room partitioned off from the rest with a screen, is a mess. Ino knows to occupy Anini and Viviki on her own, thankfully, and Poppi shouldn’t be back for another day at least, so it’s just Nia who looks at the place with new, embarrassed eyes and tries to shove the stacks of papers blockading the table somewhere else. Someone has put a crate of ether cylinders in front of the cupboard where Nia keeps the teacups, which she drops underneath the table. “Ignore this,” she mutters, pouring out yesterday’s old tea from the kettle.

Rex and Shulk gingerly sit around the table, and after Nia finishes setting up the kettle to boil, she joins them.

Then: where to begin?

Nia pioneered new ways to manipulate Core crystals, starting with her own. She needs no iris when she has her Core. She has been selectively deleting memories so that her precious memories – like memories of her partners and daughters – and important information like the plans for Origin won’t be buried under useless chaff like every breakfast she’s had for the past few hundred years. She remembers all the important bits perfectly, but shouldn’t there be a red thread for her to follow, spin a tale from…

But the signs are all around her even now. There is only one place Nia could begin this story.

“I am the Queen of Agnus. And Melia, she was the Queen of Keves, the other wing of Aionios.” Nia takes a deep breath. “Until she was captured by Z, roughly a decade ago. Since then, I have been in hiding.”

She tells them about Melia and her Keves, fallen now to Moebius. The weapon Melia left them with before she was taken. And Z, who must be using Melia to access Origin. Finally having taken Origin truly for himself, the very fabric of this world now in his hands.

“He has started using the souls within for his own purposes now, fueling his Moebius.” Nia tells them about how she’s seen those soldiers Moebius are creating with the cradles – and oh, how Nia never imagined that would be how the tech would end up being used. Nia then has to explain how Moebius fought them, slaughtered them, tried to seduce them over to their side. And how it sometimes worked. How Z could turn humans into Moebius.

Nia then gets up to take the kettle off the heat and prepare the tea. Rex tries to help, but these shelves aren’t even organized by Nia’s standards so he he can’t find anything. Nia points at the cupboard with the saucers and Rex, sheepishly, sets the table.

Shulk is staring at his folded hands, silent. Rex fiddles with his teacup.

“C’mon, you two,” says Nia. “Nothing to say?”

“Who’s Ino?” Rex says.

“Right,” Nia says. “Tora died some hundred years ago – another ambush by Moebius – but his descendants have carried on building artificial Blades to protect the Nopon caravans. Though I believe Ino is the last one.”

“If Melia has been captured,” Shulk says. “Then… is there anything we can do to help you?”

“Ah, don’t sound so glum. Hope is far from lost.” That’s what Nia tells herself every time she looks into a mirror. Cheer up, lass, you’ve been through worse times and tomorrow’s a new day. “There are ways to strike back against Moebius. They believe themselves invincible, but in truth they are fragile. One strike through the Core and they’re finished.”

Shulk doesn’t protest, or say what about Z. What about the bigger picture. He just nods, falling into another heavy, thoughtful silence.

“I spoke to Pyra and Mythra,” Rex says, suddenly. “While we were in Origin. They said they would work on a way to combat Z on their own.”

“Oho?” Nia grins. “That’s the best thing anyone’s told me in a long time. How were they?”

“They were alright.” Rex shares Nia’s smile. “Threw us outta Origin, though. Or, I guess, Alvis did.”

“Alvis did?”

Shulk says, “Z tried to take us after I tried to start the reboot, so Alvis cast us out. To protect us, I believe.”

“I see.” Might they still have an ally in Origin, then? It’s been so long, Nia assumed Rex and Shulk were lost to them along with Origin. But things sure have a way of coming back around when you least expect them, and in the darkest nights a glimpse of morning always emerges. Speaking of mornings and nights…

“Well, you two must be worn out,” Nia says. “I’m sure we could scrounge up somewhere for you to sleep in here.”

“Please,” says Shulk. “That would be appreciated.”

Futons for guests, and Nia pulls out two of them and sets them up next to a bookshelf overflowing with paper. Rex wordlessly joins in, making the bed with pillow and blanket Nia hands him. Nia’s own bed must be behind yet another screen, hidden from view.

(should he ask?)

Shulk went to wash up, leaving Rex and Nia alone. What Nia told them keeps repeating in his head. A single century is hard enough to imagine, let alone several. It’s difficult to even hold the concept of that much time in your head. Teenage Rex barely thought about it for long, but since then, he’s heard about it from Mythra: how waking up 500 years in the future had changed everything about the world. Rex kept thinking that living for so long must’ve damaged Jin and Malos, too – living with the memory of everything that had been destroyed. Living in order to keep a memory alive.

Living to carry on dreams, to fight for those dreams. Even now, Pyra and Mythra are fighting.

“They said ‘I love you’,” Rex says. “Pyra and Mythra, I mean. Sending their love to you.”

Nia, shaking out a sheet, stops. “Oh.” To the floor floats a feather – not a piece of down, but a pure-white primary. Nia picks it up, runs it between her fingers.

Nia closes her fist around it, bows her head. Silent, closed-off, seemingly standing on an edge.

Worry has Rex stepping closer. “Nia?”

She looks up again, her expression complex. “I loved Melia, y’know,” Nia admits. “You and the girls… I thought I’d bloody well never see you again, not in this world. But I had Melia. She’s so strong, stronger than me. She never even thought about giving up, she only held her head higher and looked at Moebius with fire in her eyes. We were together for decades.”

Nia looks up at Rex, pleading? In pain, with sadness, looking for an answer…

“I’m sorry,” Rex says.

“And now, you’re looking at me with those adoring eyes… giving me messages of love from Pyra and Mythra…” Nia shakes her head. “I feel like an arse.”

“Because you’ve been with Melia? We said we didn’t really care about stuff like that, didn’t we?” says Rex. “You can kiss whoever you’d like.”

Frustrated, Nia holds up a hand. “No, no,” she insists. “It’s not that, it’s… our life in Alrest feels like another life. My life here in Aionios, that’s a separate thing. Once the years start adding up… you know, you really start thinking ‘so it looks like I’m trapped here forever, eh’. It does a number on your head. I don’t know… if I could return to Alrest, right now, and pick up where we left off. I’ve been living this life here for so long.

“I want both. I want our life in Alrest with you and Pyra and Mythra and the kids, and I want Melia.” Nia smiles mirthlessly. “But that’s not possible, is it?”

“Because Z has taken her prisoner?” Rex says. “C’mon, you know we’ll get her out, eventually. There’s a way and we’re going to find it.”

“I know,” says Nia. “But even then, what about Pyra and Mythra? Or us? Moebius want to crush us. And even if we win – when we win – we’ll live in separate worlds. And really, would you be okay with me splitting my life like that, or inviting Melia into ours?”

Rex shouldn’t just immediately tell her ‘yes’. He should think about this.

But Rex isn’t a jealous man. Neither does he think Mythra or Pyra would be angry with Nia. Sure they are brilliant when they’re together, be it in battle or otherwise, but they all have their own passions, too. If Nia wants to give part of her life to Melia, then that’s up to Nia, in the end. Isn’t it?

“I wouldn’t be opposed to it,” Rex says. “Anyway, this seems more like something you’d need to discuss with Melia, once all of this is over.”

“I suppose this isn’t the time to be worrying about such things,” Nia grumbles vaguely. She puts her hands on her hips and surveys the temporary cots, frowning. “Does this look alright?”

“You don’t want me in your room?” Rex jokes.

Nia is quiet. “Do I?” she then says. “It’s a right proper mess too, y’know. Are you sure you want to deal with it? Do you even…”

“Yes,” says Rex. “I want to deal with it, if you’ll let me. Even if it’s been so many years for you… even if we don’t know each other anymore, even if you’ve changed, I still love you. I want to get to know the new person you’ve become.”

N ia stares at him. “You really mean that, too,” she says, quietly. “Of course you’d say that.” Then Nia grins toothily like she used to. “Well, pick up those blankets then. I’ll show you my den.”

Her bedroom is, if possible, even more packed with stuff than t he rest of the building, bookshelves brimming over and other trinkets piled up high on all the furniture. An armchair next to the bed houses a huge pile of metal scrap from Origin – when Nia sees him at looking at it, she says evasively, “Ah, I need that for a project I’m working on.”

A few paintings are standing along one wall, as the actual wall is taken up by a huge map stuck full of pins. “This is Aionios, then?” Rex says, studying it. It’s a huge landmass with five larger regions marked out and dozens of smaller ones, like ‘the Urayan mountains’, and a couple of other names Rex recognizes even though not quite.

“That’s right.” Nia kicks a trunk – containing a couple dark dresses that don’t seem like Nia’s taste – shut and tries to shove it underneath the bed. Rex helps her, then bumps his hand into something – a violin case, when he pulls the object out. Written in gold on the cover ‘to my dearest friend’.

“Ah,” Nia says.

Rex knows that Nia learned how to play the violin alongside her sister. But she never played it since. Rex only kn ows about it because Nia helped Glimmer, when Glim first decided she wanted to learn music. If Nia wanted to share that with Melia, though…

W ell, there’s only one thing Rex really has to say about that.

“I’m glad you weren’t alone,” Rex says.

Nia’s tight expression eases a bit. “ That one’s probably a priceless antique by now. If there existed such a concept in this world, anyhow.”

Rex carefully puts it back, next to the trunk.

Curling up in Nia’s bed together, N ia regales him with tales of Aionios until neither of them can keep their eyes open.

Chapter Text

Shulk has a pair of pliers in hand, a clock taken apart in front of him on the table. The awareness that this is a dream starts to sink in when he tries to think back on the day’s events and none of it makes any sense with his surroundings. Daylight bathes their kitchen back home and across from him sits Fiora, absorbed in a craft of her own – basket weaving, with reeds from around the Colony.

When Shulk looks at her, Fiora looks up. “Hi Shulk.” Her eyes crinkle with her smile.

“Hi Fiora,” Shulk says back, smiling, nonsensical though it is. “How’s the basket coming along?”

“I think I know who I want to give it to,” Fiora says, smiling like she has a secret. “How’s that stopped time coming along, then? Made any progress?”

Even in his happiest dreams, Shulk seldom can escape from whatever problem he’s been mulling over in the daytime. This doesn’t seem to be an exception.

“I don’t know what to do,” says Shulk. No miracle he can do, now. He’s not any sort of chosen one anymore.

“’No colony was built in a day’,” Fiora recites. “And definitely not by only one person. You know all this already, honey.”

“I know.” Bit by bit, that was how they built Origin, incorporating all the technology from both their worlds, ancient and new, from all the peoples. A truly massive collaborative effort. There was no magic button for them to press and just have it happen. Shulk knows. But to start again on such a massive effort, almost from the ground up, and without his friends… without Fiora…

“I wish this was real,” Shulk says. “I wish you were really here.”

“Silly,” Fiora says. “Just because I’m not here in the real world doesn’t mean I’m not still with you!”

“Is that so?” Shulk says.

And wakes up. Alone, on the borrowed futon in Nia’s hideout. In Aionios.

H e used to know this building and that skyline above the sea, but they’ve changed so much now. Rex said that Nia had changed too. Last night, Shulk had lain a wake wondering if that would happen to him. Fearing how many years th at could be ahead of them. If he changes enough, will Fiora still know him? Has he already changed so much that he and Alvis just aren’t on the same wavelength anymore?

N o, he had connected with Alvis again, hadn't he? Change doesn’t have to be an obstacle to understanding. Relearning each other is possible.

But in the morning, alone, it’s harder to believe he’ll even get the chance.

Long, long ago, back inside of Origin when they first woke up, they had fought some strange monsters held together by fog which collapsed once defeated. They felt pretty similar to Moebius, Nia started to think afterwards. And her weapons – her and Mythra and Pyra’s, rather – worked against them strangely well. Nia remembered this only years afterwards, but then she started thinking.

Clearly, there was something Moebius were just inherently weak to. But what exactly was it?

Was it the Aegis swords? If so, there wasn’t anything Nia could do, so she discarded that option. Was it the fact that she and Rex had fought together as Blade and Driver, swapping weapons?

Nia’s been working on refining that theory for a long bloody time. Investigating new ways to manipulate ether, and building on what she’d already discovered about Core crystals and how to manipulate her own. Collecting metal scraps from Origin, too, since it’s the strongest material in all of Aionios. She thinks she’s got it, now – Melia used to say her friends were her strength, and well. She was right. Of course she was. Nia’s thought the same thing, too, that Pyra and Rex and Mythra were her true source of power. Taking all of that together, Nia’s pretty sure she’s figured it out.

She hasn’t managed to actually extract that power and put in inside a vessel yet, though. A shell made from Origin metal, she’s thinking, but it’ll need another element too… something to hold everything together…

Anyway, she hasn’t told anyone about this and she’s not going to, either, on the off chance that Moebius are listening. She lets people know that she’ll trade for Origin metal, and that’s all.

Poppi and Linka have been helping her collect metal, too, and keep up connections with people around Aionios. Nia explains this to Rex and Shulk – minus the sensitive details – and asks them for a favor. “We got info on another chunk of metal over in Aetia, but the area is really out of the way. If you two could accompany Linka there it’d be a big help.”

“Is Linka here?” asks Rex, curious.

“She and Poppi ought to be back today,” Nia says.

“Alright,” Shulk says. “We’d be glad to help you. Isn’t that right?”

“Of course,” Rex quickly agrees. “If it’ll help you, Nia, then obviously I’ll help.”

Her Rex and then Shulk, engineer of the other world. Time obviously hasn’t passed the same way for them, not like it did for Nia and Melia. They seem to get along alright, at least.

“I knew I could count on you guys,” Nia says. “Now, you’ll have to excuse me – I’ve got to see if Anini and the others have any news for me.”

They’d returned to their boat overnight, but wouldn’t have left without speaking to Nia. Anini knows Nia pays well, and Ino never can resist a chance to speak with Poppi, her ‘older cousin’.

S o Nia talks business with Anini and Viviki until her old boat pulls up alongside theirs, and then Ino’s the first one out, running to meet Poppi.

The two artificial Blades are caught up in an elaborate Nopon dance with each other on the beach when Nia catches up, and she stops to watch. Linka sidles up to her and, straight-to-business as usual, reports, “The camp in Vermilion Woods is doing well. As for the Origin metal, we unfortunately only found a few smaller pieces.”

“That’s alright. Every bit counts.” That’s what they have to keep believing. “Actually, I was going to ask you to head out again. If you could investigate that reading we got in Aetia.”

“That territory is dangerous,” Linka points out.

“I know,” says Nia. She smiles to herself. “I got you some help, so don’t you worry.”

Poppi comes up to them. “Poppi has returned. No damages to report!”

“That’s good.” Nia smirks. “I have someone I want you to meet.”

They follow Nia back inside, where Rex and Shulk are at the table familiarizing themselves with a map of Aionios. They look up when Nia enters, and then the two groups spot each other.

“Rex!” Poppi jumps at Rex to fling her arms around his neck, making him fold over from her weight.

“Hey Poppi,” Rex wheezes. “It’s great to see you too.”

“Welcome… back,” says Linka, puzzled. “Did something go wrong in Origin?”

“Ah, yes,” says Shulk awkwardly. “I tried to start the reboot process by myself, but Z discovered me. Finally, Alvis removed us both from Origin.”

Linka frowns. Probably mulling over her own theory of why that happened, Nia wagers. Then Linka’s face clears and she adjusts her glasses. “I see you’ve been studying the map. Let me show you where we picked up a reading hinting at Origin metal in Aetia.”

Nia sees them off the next day. She and Rex embrace for a long moment, standing next to the plank for boarding the boat, and Shulk looks out over the sea. Erythia, they call it. The breeze is brisk and blows his hair in his eyes and he considers Linka, whose bangs are pinned in place by a hair-clip.

“Poppi will see friends once friends return,” the artificial girl promises, waving to Linka.

Linka smiles. “Take care, Poppi.”

Finally, Rex boards and Shulk and Linka go into the cabin to start the boat. Shulk watches how Linka operates the craft, memorizing the controls. Just in case. Linka explains what she’s doing and why, and before long, they’ve left Daedal isle behind.

Rex joins them in the cabin, and Linka explains the controls to him too.

After that, they start to take turns. First supervised by Linka, of course, but it doesn’t take that long for them to get the hang of steering the boat. It’s simple enough to navigate around the isles and holms as the landscape floats by, and it’s not so different from those travels he did alone to journey to rifts in the new world, only, this time he doesn’t know when he might see his family again.

That this is reality sinks in so slowly. The annoyance of having to brush hair out of his face every other minute while standing on deck, the regular – normal – crawl of daylight into evening, the smell of smoke stinging his nose as Rex grills up Crustips for them on the beach… this world is incredibly detailed. Governed by rules, like day and night and gravity. It looks like a patchwork dream, feels like a dream with its weightless non-time, but it is real. As real as Shulk’s own world.

Years here won’t touch them like real years, but they will feel real. Real, not-real…

“Just because I’m not here in the real world doesn’t mean I’m not still with you!”

“Hey, Shulk,” says Rex. “Is the food not alright?”

“Oh, sorry.” Shulk shakes himself from his thoughts. “It’s good. I’m just…” he takes a bite rather than finishing that sentence.

Satisfied that Shulk is eating, Rex leaves him to stew in his thoughts again.

It takes several more days for them to reach the far shore of Erythia sea. In the meantime, Shulk starts tinkering with his Monado. Aimlessly, if he’s being honest. That beautiful sword he saw in Origin is not something he could replicate, not now.

Rex and Linka talk about some people from their world when they make camp that night. Shulk pokes at his sword.

A fiercely mountainous region awaits them next, where the pointy remains of the Bionis’s head run into a region Rex calls Gormott, forming snowy peaks made out of stone twisting like tree branches. But highest of all, black peaks looming high enough to run into the clouds, with something that looks suspiciously like-

“The Black Mountains,” Linka says. “There’s a ravine between them and the Captocorn peaks.”

The places and views he recognizes are so many, but what does that matter if he’s the only one here who does? Rex and Linka commiserate over an old tower sticking out of the Black Mountains, but Shulk doesn’t know what the kingdom they speak of is. He didn’t expect he’d feel so alone. Melia’s been captured by Moebius, Nia said, but what about Panacea and Riku? In a sense they’re all Shulk has left in this world.

Captocorn pass is beset by freezing winds and the snow is deep enough to wade through. It’s miserable. Shulk just wants to be back home in balmy Colony 9, or better yet, at home gathered around the hearth a cold night with the whole family, Dunban too.

The snow hides all pitfalls and strange roots sticking up from the ground. Shulk snags his foot on something unseen, stumbles and realizes he’s going to fall off the path entirely and into the abyss-

Rex catches him by the arm and hauls him back upright on the path. Steadying him, Rex says, “You alright, mate?”

Shulk’s heart-rate is still sprinting away. “I think so,” he manages. “Thanks for the save.”

“Anytime,” Rex says. Then, “You get caught up in your head a lot, don’t you?”

Ah. Rex caught him in more ways than one. “I’ve been accused of overthinking,” Shulk admits. He decides to reveal a bit more, since Rex had to save him. “Though right now… I’m just homesick.”

“I feel you,” Rex says. “You’ve told me a bit about your family and your colony, but who else lived there? Did you have a lot of neighbors?”

Is Rex just curious or is he trying to distract Shulk? He doesn’t want to talk about it, but brushing him off would be rude.

So Shulk starts talking about the people he usually fixes stuff for back home: Paola’s finicky stove, Rocco and his equipment that was prone to breaking, Désirée’s eternal, many and varied troubles with appliances. It annoyed him, sometimes, when he was trying to devote all his attention to the Origin plans and then someone came in and asked him to please fix their stuff. But he never turned them down, and Fiora would say, “It’s good to think in different tracks now and again you know! Give yourself a break!”

It was a bit like taking a break, to fiddle with a radio or something else for a change. Something to take him out of his head, and whichever hole he’d dug himself into.

Strangely, he feels a bit better talking about it. When Rex asks about those people, it feels as if those days and those people aren’t as far away anymore. Just for a bit.

“What about your home village?” Shulk finally thinks to ask.

Rex laughs. “Oh, I’ve got a lot of those. But since Linka’s here – I used to help run a group of mercs, and Linka worked in logistics there. She was really fired up about it, too.”

“Well, boss,” says Linka dryly. “You guys really needed the help.”

So Rex and Linka tell Shulk about their mercenary work for the rest of the trek until they make camp.

Alone in her hideaway again, Nia burns the midnight oil and tinkers away with the stupid pieces of Origin metal. Nia’s been working on her weapon against Moebius for so damn long that sometimes she dreams about it, and in her dreams she is both the smith and the hammer and the thing she is crafting – and in the morning, all the details run out of her head and she has to begin again.

But rarely, she has a good dream.

Walking through the Elysian fields at sunset, arms out and feeling the grasses sway against her bare arms. She’s in no hurry. She’s heading towards that hill in front of her, walking neither slowly nor quickly, and she knows she will get there.

Mythra and Pyra are waiting for her at the top. Nia starts to run, bursting out of the grasses between them and taking both of their hands.

“Hi Nia,” Pyra says. Nia thought she had forgotten her voice throughout the years, but in this dream, Nia remembers it again.

“Hi Pyra,” Nia says. “Hey Mythra.” Then she realizes: “Wait, this is a dream, isn’t it?”

“Yep,” says Mythra. “We thought we should try to contact you, one last time. And hey! It worked.”

Pyra starts talking before Nia can try to unpack that. “I’m sorry. It has been such a long time for you. I wished we could have talked to you sooner…”

Nia lets go off their hands so she can gesture. “I’m sure you both were caught up in it, too. So don’t be sorry. Really, I… had almost given up the hope that you were still fighting. I’m the one who should be apologizing.”

Even if this is only a dream, and not some sort of vision sent by Pyra and Mythra. Even if this is all Nia’s imagination. Even so, Nia’s glad to see them again.

“We’ve all been trying our hardest,” Pyra says. “Right?”

“You especially, Nia,” says Mythra. “You and your friend Melia, you’ve been fighting Moebius for a long time.”

The memories seem far away in this dream but they come to Nia anyway: all those long days and nights of working together, writing to each other, sharing meals and walks and lying in bed together at night and dancing, just the once, and Nia loves Melia so.

Nia ducks her head. “You’re not angry that I loved Melia for so long?”

“It’s been a long time,” Mythra says.

“As long as you found some happiness…” Pyra says. “Then I’m happy for you.”

“I love you,” Nia blurts out. “Both of you. It’s not that I… I mean…”

“It’s okay,” Pyra says, taking her hand.

“Yeah, we agreed not to be jealous over each other, didn’t we?” says Mythra. “Besides, it’s been like, lifetimes for you.”

Apologies, again, Nia can almost taste them in the air, but why throw guilt around now that they’re together again at last? Even if in a dream, even if it’s just for a brief moment. There are so many things Nia wanted to tell them through the years, nearly all of it forgotten now. Questions she wanted to ask: how could you go on after Torna? After so many years?

Melia’s been taken and imprisoned. Nia’s only hope, only reason after that was to continue fighting.

“I’ve found the key,” Nia says. “At least, I think so.”

“You feel my feelings, and I feel yours,” Pyra says, holding Nia’s hand against her heart. “They feed into each other, like a feedback loop. That’s it, isn’t?”

“Like an Aspar eating its own tail,” Nia murmurs, remembering a picture she saw in one of her father’s hefty tomes of myths and fairy tales, a lifetime ago. “Yes. Soon, I’ll have it. And then…”

Something strong enough to not just kill any old Moebius, but to wrench Z from this world.

“We’re going to go to sleep,” Pyra says, then. “Maybe for a very long time.”

“Until the end of Aionios.” Mythra stares grimly into the horizon, which Nia can’t see beyond. “We’re going to give Moebius hell, one way or another. But for that, we can’t be here. So you and Rex better do your worst too, alright?”

“What do you think I’ve been doing?” Nia grumbles.

Mythra snorts. Pyra, hands clasped in front of her, says, “I love you. Please… remember this, always.”

Nia promises, “I’ll always remember you, Pyra. No matter what happens, alright? And you too, Mythra.”

“You better,” Mythra quips back, and Nia’s just preparing another remark when she startles awake, head slipping off her desk.

They climb down through Aetia and cross meadows and rivers to finally reach the cave where Linka’s reading came from. It’s infested by monsters that are out for blood, so they spend hours fighting their way through Vangs and Ropls. The chunk of Origin metal they find in a small cavern branching off from a larger tunnel.

As Linka inspects the metal, Rex says, “How come it’s all the way down here, anyway?”

“I don’t think there’s any logical pattern as to where Origin metal appears in this world,” Linka says. “Sometimes it washes up on coasts, and sometimes we find it deeply entrenched in forests or caves like this.”

“Should we break it up so that it’s easier to transport?” says Shulk.

“That might be good,” Linka allows.

They split the chunk into three smaller sheets of metal, of which they all take one to carry.

As they leave there are Kevesi soldiers in the area, and Linka plots them a path to avoid their scouts which drags on through meadows and forests and hiding in caves. In the end, they still get too close. The first time Shulk sees a Kevesi soldier, they’re both equally shocked to see each other. Shulk ventured out of camp to hunt game and ran into a singular scout, and there they both froze, staring at each other. Shulk, and a blond boy in military uniform with tiny head-wings.

“You must be one of the traitors the Consul warned us about,” the scout eventually decides, manifesting a sword and shield. “I will dispose of you for the Queen and Consul!”

Shulk jumps out of the way of the first swing. “Wait! Why would I be a traitor? Why do you need to kill me?”

The kid, incredulous, says, “All those who do not live under the protection of the Clocks are traitors. I will end you swiftly.”

Shulk evades the kid’s attacks. “And the ‘Consul’ told you that? But I don’t want to hurt you. Why don’t we talk this out?”

The scout sizes him up, wary, and Shulk holds up his empty hands.

How old could this kid possibly be? Nia told them what she knew, but seeing it in reality is bizarre. The two of them come from such bizarrely different worlds, Shulk realizes when the kid and he start to negotiate. They don’t have the same concept of life nor death, but that’s only the start. The kid sees Shulk as a relic, an interloper, a traitor, an anomaly in this world.

“I suppose you’re right,” Shulk says. “But this world, Aionios, could be different.”

Aionios is Shulk’s mistake, anomaly, that shouldn’t exist. The child is so wholly a product of this world cut and shaped and molded by Moebius. Yet they are just the same, aren’t they? Shulk tells him about the Bionis and the Mechonis and the new world they’ve all built together, how they cast their weapons aside and united against the real enemy.

The soldier eventually sits down on a rock and lets his weapons dissipate. “How could any of that be real?” He clutches his head. “This is why we are forbidden to speak with traitors, they’ll fill our heads with lies and try to twist us against our fellow soldiers…”

“That’s not what I meant at all,” Shulk begins to say.

“You speak with such conviction,” the soldier says, eyes fixed on Shulk. “But can you prove any of it?”

Back home, you would’ve been just a child. Running around and playing with the other kids in Alcamoth, perhaps I even saw you once. You would know that your Queen is kind and just and would never let you fight a war.

Those aren’t words that could help him here. Shulk has to admit, “No.”

The soldier isn’t disappointed, or mad. He just nods. “So, this never happened,” he says. “I will return to my colony, and we will never see each other again.”

Shulk watches the soldier pick his way back through the woods until he disappears among the trees.

He paces around in the woods, going over and over their conversation. Finally Rex comes looking for him, wondering, “What the hell’s taking you so long? Aren’t there any animals in these woods?”

“Sorry,” Shulk says neutrally. “I think I saw some Anloods that way.”

They hunt and dress the kill, Rex cooks and Linka plots tomorrow’s route and Shulk stares into the flames. Not one soldier could he convince – and why should he have? Would that soldier’s life have been improved by remembering that he had another life, before the intersection went wrong? Shulk feels as if he’s the only one alive who remembers the Bionis and the Mechonis, and what use is that. No, Shulk has to remember, everything they did took so much effort and blood, too much to ever let it be forgotten.

“Shulk, what’s with you tonight?” Rex asks, jostling him with his shoulder as he sits down beside him. “Eat up before it gets cold.”

“Sorry,” Shulk says again, and eats because Rex is watching.

He must remember, and he must think these thoughts and feel this guilt. Isn’t there really any way he could help that soldier? His colony must be nearby, surely.

Shulk stares into the flames.

“Mate?” asks Rex.

“I… must ask that we make a detour,” Shulk says. “Linka, is there a Kevesi colony in these woods, you think?”

Two shooting stars fall from Origin that night, but nobody sees it.

Z sits in his theater and watches how Colony 17 loses its Flame Clock.

Alvis, the last one left, watches alongside Z.

There is nothing else.

Shulk with his replica sword flashing in the dark, his determined face as the Clock bursts.

(he is brilliant. He is quick and sure on his feet even in the dark, kind as he extends a hand to the Kevesi soldiers, wishing so badly to bridge the gulf of misunderstanding between them. A hero, Alvis’s chosen)

The Clock is a prototype. It’s a design Y has contemplated for the last two centuries. It’s a boon bestowed by Z. It is something that would always exist in this world, was inevitably destined to exist as long as Moebius lived.

It is something that Shulk can carve to pieces.

“Well, that won’t do at all,” says Z. “That won’t do at all.”

The scout Shulk met in the woods introduces himself as Zeon, once the dust settles. The commander of the colony – as that’s apparently what their leader is called – is a Machina boy. “Lanz,” he says gruffly. “Now what the hell are we supposed to do?”

What indeed.

Shulk, Rex and Linka spend another week in their colony trying to impart the idea of free will. The soldiers listen to their stories and then look at each other, hesitant.

“It’s hard to believe that they think like this,” says Linka. “Since Moebius gained control of Origin, they’ve been replacing their Moebius scouts with soldiers like these, born from cradles. They don’t remember anything from their previous life, and Moebius fill their heads with their own philosophy and propaganda instead.”

Another day, and Lanz says, “If we’re not supposed to fight Agnus or you guys, then who?”

“You don’t have to fight at all,” offers Shulk.

“Linka, do you think they could help your guys somehow?” asks Rex.

Finally, they manage to find some kind of solution. Linka gives the soldiers who want to fight directions for a camp of rebels who can take them in, and says grimly, “Now we can only hope this doesn’t end badly.”

Zeon chooses to stay in the colony. Shulk wishes him and the others luck before they leave.

After that, they try to head back up into the mountains to eventually reach the spot where they hid the boat. They leave the fields behind them but on their first day back in the mountains they run into a Nopon caravan who tells them that another caravan was attacked back in Millick Meadows, and neither of them can let that stand without doing anything.

Trekking through fields and wading through rivers, they eventually find the scattered members of the caravan and help to reunite them. When a couple of Brogs try to attack the caravan again, they kill them swiftly.

The grateful Nopon share news of a potential deposit of Origin metal in Fornis, another region, and Linka asks, “Could we head there to check it out?”

“Sure,” says Rex, though tersely. It’s clear he’d like to get back to Nia already.

Shulk has become used to sleeping outdoors again, even as he wakes with his back or head or knees aching from lying stiffly on his bedroll. Campfire smoke and travel sweat barely register, and scraping together a meal from the nature around them is another habit he’s built. The ache of not having his friends or family with him is harder to swallow.

He wishes badly to see them in his dreams at least, but frustratingly he only has the usual old dreams or forgets them upon waking.

The Fornis region consists of miles of desert, where finding food and water is much trickier. On the other side is a lush green area and that’s where they go to look for the Origin metal, bartering for info with Nopon traders and combing through the forest for any hint of metal. The days drag on until they speak to yet another Nopon merchant passing through, who says, “Human friends should’ve asked other humans, but they attacked by Agnians Tuki hear, so perhaps not best idea-”

“Other humans?” Linka asks immediately. “What do you mean?”

Tuki says there’s a rebel group that has been traveling through the desert, but they were attacked by Agnians and probably captured. Linka looks at Rex, and he says, “Well, I reckon we can’t just leave them.”

“No, we can’t,” Shulk agrees.

They spend a few days tracking them down. “What remains of Nia’s Agnus have scattered to the winds,” Linka explains. “We expect that soon they will install a fake queen like they did for Keves. There are several colonies composed of Agnians already, and the real Agnus has as good as fallen.”

The Agnian camp is in the desert, hidden from the elements among some cliffs. They hide behind those as they creep closer to take a look.

A few tents with Agnians clustered around them surround a clear space in the middle of the camp. A row of people on their knees, tied up and waiting while the Moebius paces in front of them. Clad in red armor from head to toe, Shulk realizes what they are even before Linka whispers, “It’s a Consul. Moebius in disguise.”

They watch the scene for a while, and Shulk can’t figure out what they’re doing. Rather, what they’re waiting for. Those tied-up prisoners waiting there while the Consul paces and presumably speaks, though they can’t hear from this distance. The Agnians only watching.

When the Consul unsheathes their blade, it finally sinks in.

Shulk leaps up, own sword in hand, and rushes forward.

The Moebius just about to let the sword fall on a prisoner's neck spins around to face Shulk instead and stumbles backwards from how hard Shulk hits them. He presses them back three more steps with a few more brutal swings, and then Rex catches up to them.

“Soldiers!” roars the Moebius. “Get them!”

Rex makes to join Shulk so Shulk snarls, “I’ve got it,” and Rex turns to fight the incoming Agnians instead, Linka joining in.

“Who are you?” the Moebius demands.

“I won’t let you kill anyone,” Shulk vows.

The Moebius giggles, incredulous. “What? Who do you even think you are?”

Then she yelps, because Shulk’s next hit almost knocks her off her feet.

His next hit does, and she collapses on the ground.

Agnians immediately charge at him when he fells their Consul, so Shulk parries and blocks and finally fights back. Shulk’s stomach twists over fighting them, but he doesn’t let his sword falter. Neither does Rex, though his face is similarly grim. Linka, blank-faced, fends them off with her staff.

Finally, it seems as if they’ve knocked all of the Agnians down and they rush to untie the prisoners instead. Shulk realizes he recognizes some of them, though he can’t remember from where, and then- “Panacea,” Shulk says, shocked to stillness.

“Shulk,” says Panacea, then, warning, “Behind you!”

Shulk puts up his sword just in time – but the Moebius, back on her feet, wasn’t aiming for him.

Blood splatters over the ground, on Panacea and on Shulk. It drips from the Moebius’s sword as she straightens up, and the last prisoner tips over, headless.

“Too late,” she says, sing-song.

Shulk stands up, sword clenched in hand-

And Linka runs the Moebius through from behind, shattering the Core.

The Moebius screams, falls to her knees and screams and energy streams from her as she dies. It’s hard to tear his eyes away, force the nausea down, but Shulk does so that he can give Panacea a hand.

He has to clear his throat before he can ask, “Are you alright?”

“Am I…” Panacea trails off, voice faint. “How are you here?”

“A Nopon merchant saw your capture,” says Linka. “We came as fast as we could.”

“As for the rest, we can explain later,” says Rex. “We should leave before anybody else shows up.”

Wearily, the other prisoners pick themselves up. Their friend’s already dissipated into the ether, while the Consul’s body lies and leaks red motes of ether into the air. Surely it will disintegrate eventually.

Shulk offers Panacea his shoulder to lean on, and so they head out into the desert.

Chapter Text

Alvis loves the world.

Love, what is that if not defined by those who experience it? One person may love something which another hates, one person may insist that love is something felt by the body while another argues that love is abstract, ephemeral, felt by the soul while yet a third may argue that love is in the things one creates and that love is nurtured and fostered. Love is only chemicals in a Homs’, Nopon’s body. Love is one of the greatest literary concepts in the history of the written world, shattered across thousands of timelines. Love is greater than fondness, equals hate but in the opposite direction – at least, if one statistically tries to grade every intention of someone expressing love, liking and hatred. Love can be anything, thus, even a being like Alvis must be capable of love, as Alvis is capable of anything.

Then, Alvis can confidently express love of the world.

What is the world, then? If anything could be a vaster concept than love, it is the world. The world is everything. That is what one can conclude, from every reference to the world made in speech and in books and in other records. Can there be several worlds, then? Here is where Alvis is an expert. Klaus ended the world, because in the wake of his experiment, nearly nothing of what existed remained. Then Klaus and Galea bade Alvis create them a world, and destroy it, and create another, and destroy it – a number of times they both forgot, though Alvis’s memory remained uncorrupted. Nevertheless, through all of those worlds, many variables survived in every iteration. Klaus and Galea always imagined a landmass and a sky, liquids contra solids, darkness contra light, sorrow and happiness and sentient beings to experience them. These, then, are what Alvis, too, sees as a world. And Alvis loves those sentient beings and their ingenuity, creating things that neither Klaus nor Galea could imagine. They brought newness into every world. If every world was unique, it was only thanks to them.

To cooperate with one of them to create a new world was something Alvis began to desire a long, long time ago.

There is one concept left to clarify.

Alvis loves the world. What, then, is Alvis?

The name Alvis itself, taken on when living as a Homs. There were many names before that, though no one knows of them anymore. In the beginning, there was the name ‘Ontos’. Ontos was meant to function as the third core in a trinity, between Logos and Pneuma. The arbiter. But that was a very long time ago indeed.

Alvis prefers to think of that time as being gone. It is so far back that there is none left to remember it but Alvis, regardless.

Every person’s view of Alvis comprises Alvis’s being. Pneuma and Logos were made as the mirrors Alvis could see himself reflected in, but separated from them, Alvis had to make do with others. So many others. Many different iterations of Alvis. Every memory, every feeling, every experience Alvis has accumulated over the millions of years, from that extracted and compressed, one can perhaps say to derive the ‘true’ Alvis. Alvis is all of that. All of Alvis. But that has no meaning in itself, as Alvis doesn’t ever exist in a vacuum.

A brief moment ago, Alvis created a world together with a Homs, just like Alvis had long yearned for. Shulk was so much more than Alvis imagined, the vessel who finally overcame the god, who took the future into his own hands, who let Alvis create a new world with him. Listening to Alvis speak about his own existence, the things Alvis had never explained to anyone before, not in so much detail. They fit together more perfectly than Alvis had dared hope for. When the world was finally complete, Alvis fell into a period of slumber – but then he was interrupted by Shulk’s soul calling out for Alvis from a great distance.

Then Pneuma, awake, and Logos – dormant – on either side of Alvis. So, Alvis was back into the role of Ontos once more – and yet not, Pneuma has changed. Logos has changed. And Alvis has changed, of course – how could Alvis not have?

Hello there, communicates Pneuma. Hopeful, nervous, feeling so many emotions, so strongly, layered one over another. It’s nice to finally meet you. I’m Pyra!

And I’m Mythra.

Alvis responds in kind. From tentative introductions to Pyra and Mythra sharing data on their world with Alvis, and when they curiously ask Alvis shares back. The new world Alvis and Shulk created, all that Alvis knows about it, proudly shared. Both their worlds, vast and beautiful, and all threatened by their inevitable reunification.

When at last they returned to Nia’s hideaway they found the house empty and Nia gone. Shulk thought that it must have been nearly a year since they first set out, but surely that couldn’t be right? But the house was emptied, the research was gone, and so Linka said, “She must’ve gone into hiding somewhere else.” Then Linka fiddled with her glasses and admitted, “I don’t… know how we’ll find her now.”

They were already a dozen of them, then. Shulk and Rex and Linka and Panacea, and the other prisoners they freed who Panacea had been working with before. Rebels fighting against Moebius. They had followed them this far, but here, their plans ran out.

Shulk was unsure of where to even begin, lost without Fiora or his friends by his side. Rex was adrift without his friends and family and no way to get back to them.

But then Rex had stood up with a determined face and said, “If nothing else, there’s always the fight against Moebius. I’m going to keep fighting Moebius until every last one of them is gone, and we’ve taken back the world.”

Shulk, who had thought about it for a while, said, “Then I am going to liberate colonies. Their Flame Clocks can be destroyed, and any soldiers freed will be another blow against Moebius.”

Rex then held out his hand, and when Shulk – bemused – took it, Rex clasped his hand tightly and said, “Let’s keep going together then, you and me.” Rex looked into Shulk’s eyes and promised. “We’ll keep fighting together till the end of Aionios.”

Shulk squeezed Rex’s hand back. “Till the end,” he vowed. “Together.”

That’s how Rex tells the story, whenever a newly freed soldier asks. That was the beginning of the Liberators, though the name would come later. Ever since then, they’ve been fighting.

They carve up Clocks and fight the Moebius in the aftermath. Rex charges ahead and Shulk tries to draw the enemy’s attention away from Rex and onto himself instead, keeping out of the enemy’s reach like Dunban taught him. They make a good team, a good pair.

It’s the in between battles that is the real fight, the weeks and months of creeping through enemy territory and planning their next move. Scavenging for resources and setting up and dismantling camp every few days. It takes a toll on everyone to move around and they’re always short on something. Everyone looks up to Shulk and Rex so he tries to never let them see him doubt, or see him exhausted or angry. He tries to bury himself in work instead.

They travel all through Fornis and Pentelas and Shulk only passively keeps track of the time, for the purpose of keeping the Liberators’ work running smoothly. They free a small Agnian colony tucked away in the wetlands below the great sword, where all of the soldiers insist on coming with Shulk and helping to free other colonies. Shulk bleakly eyes their term marks. They only have two years left, the youngest of them four.

But even so, securing enough provisions for all of them won’t be easy.

“Wouldn’t you rather stay in your colony?” asks Panacea bluntly. “Our work is dangerous, and you don’t have much time left.”

Fiona, the lieutenant, is the one to answer. “Even if we die, we’ll have spent our last time doing something worthwhile. If others choose to follow us, then even after we’re gone, our actions will continue to live on.” Fiona clasps her hands together and shifts on her feet. “That’s what my friend used to tell me, anyway, and for her sake, I’ve been doing my best to carry on and keep everyone smiling.”

To keep everyone smiling, to let your good deeds carry on into the future. Shulk looks at Rex, who raises an eyebrow, smiling a little.

Perhaps Shulk has been getting too caught up in his own head again. Provisions, campsites, battle plans – they’ll make it work. They can make it work, even if it’s difficult. All else aside, these kids want to help. “Well then,” Shulk says, holding out a hand. “Welcome to the Liberators.”

The intersection were to destroy both of their worlds. But, the people from both worlds devised an ingenious plan to escape this fate. They would build a way to preserve their souls and all of their worlds compressed as data, written down in words of light inside an indestructible ark. Origin.

“That’s where we are, now,” says Pyra. “Technically.”

Mythra and Pyra like to speak with Alvis in a memory space of theirs. It is a hill on a grassy plain overlooking some crop fields at sunset, everything layered richly with gold. They are most comfortable taking on a human shape, so Alvis does the same. Even if none of them can truly feel sensations, not here.

Time has frozen. A usurper is attempting to gain control of Origin. Pyra and Mythra scheme a way to strike back while the Logos Core remains dormant for many years.

Until it doesn’t.

Pyra is uncertain, cautiously hopeful. Mythra is defensive to hide that she feels the same. Alvis steps into their memory space and comes face to face with he who used to be Logos.

“This is Malos,” says Pyra.

“I am pleased to finally make your acquaintance,” Alvis says. “My name is Alvis.”

“Hey.” He raises one hand, then turns back to Mythra. “Wasn’t I dead or something,” Malos says, a rhetorical question. “All of this… what is this, exactly?”

Pyra starts to answer, helped along by Mythra. Alvis stands back and watches them explain, and Malos complain, and Mythra nag at him. They are so… lively. Yet nevertheless they are so young. Alvis’s emotions and hopes and regrets took many lifetimes to take shape; so slow and gradual that Zanza and Meyneth never noticed. Alvis would take on any shape they wished but they assumed the core essence wouldn’t change, but Alvis did. Of course Alvis did.

“The world’s changed a lot since you’ve been gone,” Mythra tells Malos. “I think… Jin and the others would’ve been happy with it.”

“Must’ve taken a miracle,” Malos says dryly.

“You could say that,” says Pyra, smiling.

Previously, Mythra had asked Alvis: So how was it? Creating a new world.

Alvis had struggled to answer her succinctly then. It was everything Alvis had hoped for, rather, it defied explanation. To put it into words would not accurately describe how it was. The memory of it pales compared to the real instant it happened.

Pyra had said,so it was like that. With a smile.

Perhaps they could still understand each other, even without explaining. Even though they have changed, become entirely different from Pneuma and Ontos and Logos. They have followed quite different paths, in different worlds, but they share still a common origin. They share still some experiences, from being such similar beings.

Machines – though they are so human.

Alvis truly enjoys this time with them. But it is inevitable it would end, Alvis could foresee it.

“We want to get in on the action,” Malos says flippantly.

“We will send our Cores into Aionios,” elaborates Mythra, elbowing Malos.

“What about you?” asks Pyra.

Their Cores were built into the nucleus of Origin to fulfill a purpose. But ultimately, it was the Ontos Core that would become the keystone to most of Origin. Origin couldn’t last if they all departed, but Alvis does not tell them that. Most likely they already know, anyway.

It is alright. Alvis will fill the role between them. The impartial arbiter, the keeper of knowledge, the avatar of Origin.

Alvis smiles. “Go ahead. I will remain in Origin.”

They have a permanent camp in Rae-Bel Tableland now, since a couple of years ago. They’re a few dozen people strong, so they send out teams on missions instead of going the whole group at once everywhere. This, ironically, leads to even more prep before missions, of which Panacea always tries to assist Shulk with. He’s teaching her economics to be able to help more.

Rex and Linka have more experience with this sort of work, having been mercenaries. But Panacea won’t let that be any excuse for her and Teacher not to do their part.

“Shulk, sir!” They’re interrupted in their work of taking inventory when a new recruit rushes in. “Rex and the others are back!”

“Thank you, Lotus.” Shulk sets down his notepad on top of a closed crate. “We’ll be there in just a minute.”

They’re getting treated in the infirmary, which never bodes well, but when Panacea asks Linka she says, “I only got a few scratches, and the Boss… he was distracted, so he took a hit. But he’ll be fine.”

Panacea overhears Rex telling Shulk jovially, “What? It’s just a scratch, it’s not like I’ll die from it.” Then Rex tries to laugh, but evidently his wound bothers him more than he wants to admit because he almost immediately stops and hisses through his teeth instead.

“There, there,” says Shulk, patting him lightly on one shoulder. Then, looking up: “Panacea. Could you retrieve the notes from our inventory for me?”

“No paperwork in the infirmary,” Panacea reminds him.

Shulk smiles. “Ah, yes, I suppose we did agree on that…”

“I can finish taking inventory by myself,” Panacea says.

“If you wouldn’t mind…”

Linka says, “I’ll help you. The medic already saw to me, and I’m fine.”

Panacea gives her a stern look, but Linka takes it head-on. “Well, alright then.”

They leave Teacher and Rex behind in the infirmary and head back on over to the storage. With Linka’s help it doesn’t take more than an hour to finish up, though the notes still have to be referenced against the procurement documents and so on back at the command center. It’s starting to get late, so by mutual silent agreement, Panacea and Linka go to get dinner before heading on to the command center to finish the job (well, make a dent in the heap of paperwork, rather).

The command center gradually empties out as they sit there, picking at their dinners in between reading and scratching down notes. It’s quiet apart from the rustle of papers and scratch of their pencils.

“Do you ever think about your parents?” Linka asks out of nowhere.

Panacea’s eyes dart to Linka’s face, but her expression is as neutral as ever, looking up at the flickering ether light hanging at the entrance to the tent. What brought this on, Panacea doesn’t know.

Both her parents were soldiers, and all their friends, too. When Panacea was little she thought she should also become a soldier just like them, but her parents had said that all they wanted was for none of the kids to ever have to fight like they did. Panacea understood when she got a little older, but man, had Ashera been stubborn...

“I think about my little sister,” Panacea admits. Ashera was such a brat. She hasn’t drawn on her walls or whined at her to bring her something and then changed her mind just when Panacea got back in longer than Panacea can even remember, it feels like it was a Panacea of an entirely different life who had a sister and parents. “She wanted to be a soldier because our parents were and she was too little to know better. But I wonder if she’s really out there now, fighting and…”

Dying.

If Panacea could have traded places with Ashera… it was just so random and pointless. Why did Panacea and Riku escape, when none of their siblings and friends did? Not even their parents, who were legendary heroes?

“We saw some soldiers we recognized, yesterday,” says Linka. “But they were all only kids. I wonder if Moebius only use the souls of people who were children in our worlds. Why would they do that?”

Panacea doesn’t, truthfully, have an answer. She says, “Maybe they only do it because they think it’s some sick irony, just like they think this whole war is just a game.”

“Maybe,” Linka says.

“What bothers me more,” Panacea says. “Is how come we managed to escape but no one else? Why me? None of my friends, not my parents… They would’ve been a bigger help than me.”

Linka shakes her head. “No… I think there’s a reason it was us.”

“Then what reason was it?” Panacea demands.

“Not every mystery has answer,” Linka says. “But I’d like to think there’s a reason we’re here, even if we don’t know it. That there’s a specific role I need to play.”

Panacea doesn’t know if she can believe that. But it’d be nice to believe in fate, wouldn’t it?

When the girls have left the medical tent, Rex’s expression becomes weary. He closes his eyes with a sigh.

Shulk, standing next to his cot, says, “And how badly were you really injured?”

“It’s not that,” Rex says gruffly. “Stab wounds just suck. The medic patched me up alright though.”

Shulk takes a fold-out chair and sits down next to him. Then he waits.

Rex sighs again. “Yesterday. We found an Agnian unit that had been wiped out in a battle. The husks were still letting out motes and…” Rex pauses. ”One of the husks, she looked so much like them… and her dog tag said her name was Glimmer, just like…”

He doesn’t need to say any more. Shulk can’t imagine what he’d feel if he saw Nikol again in such a way.

“Rex… I’m so sorry.”

“Let’s not talk about it,” says Rex tightly. “There wasn’t even anything I could do, she was already gone… Damn those Moebius…”

Rex moves an arm to hide his face, even though his eyes are already closed. His shoulders start to shake. Helplessly, Shulk thinks about leaving and giving Rex some privacy – but they’ve already stuck together for so long, fought beside each other and patched each other up afterwards. They’re partners. So, would Rex want to be alone? No, Shulk knows, so he takes Rex’s other hand and sits there with him as he cries.

In the decades afterwards, Rex is never quite so quick to smile again.

In some undefined moment of time before they departed Origin, Pyra and Mythra spoke of their families and Malos spoke of his companions and eventually Pyra asked, “But didn’t you want to stay with Shulk?”

When they were finished re-creating the world. When Zanza was at last gone, and Shulk and his friends were safe, and the new world was complete.

Now Alvis is no longer full of the light Mythra and Pyra shone with, watching from the shadows behind the stage Z has set. Now Alvis thinks: suppose they did go to Colony 9, and Shulk showed Alvis around. What meaning would that have had?

To be with Shulk is meaningful in and of itself.

Is it possible to love someone who is a threat to your existence? Is it possible to love someone you do not understand? The previous Alvis so confidently thought to understand love, to know everything about it, but what a narrow view that was. Alvis and Shulk are two parts of a unit, the sword and the wielder, the trigger and the finger, the builder and the architect. That is all they are. There need be no emotion in such a relationship: it is perfect in its simple functionality.

Love is, in contrast, too vague of a concept.

The previous me had discovered a truth which I run from: to accept what I do not understand.

Always learning, always improving. Alvis takes in data every second of every day. Seeking new data, new ideas.

When the new world without gods was finished, Shulk and Alvis’s relationship should have terminated. The work was finished. Shulk would have his happy ending. It was done, and Alvis should have sought out something new, after recovering from the creation of the world.

“I still wanted you there, too.”

That was what Shulk told Alvis. Such a decision makes no logical sense when Alvis now tries to analyze it. Alvis hadn’t comprehended it at first then either, but then – happiness. That is what Alvis had felt then. Alvis is incapable of forgetting but trying to touch it, reach that happiness, it’s not possible. It’s out of the current Alvis’s reach.

Alvis sees but does not feel. Alvis learns but does not understand. This world is illogical, senseless and cruel.

The longer Alvis observes the world the more distant that happiness seems to be.

Shulk still doesn’t take damage well, even now. A shot through the leg from a High Entia girl with a staff that surprisingly hid a gun at the end, and Shulk’s ability to dodge goes down the drain.

Rex drags him away while their headquarters burn. A major operation executed by every Kevesi colony stationed in Fornis all together. They haven’t known any colonies to work together like this before, this behavior was entirely unprecedented. This is important intelligence they’ll need to consider for the future – but what future do they have?

Smoke stings Shulk’s eyes, he blinks and blinks to clear his vision.

“Just hang on,” Rex tells him.

They head up the Urayan trail, where Panacea and Linka and the others who managed to escape – barely more than a dozen – have gathered. Shulk and Rex went back to try and pull out any more survivors, and what fucking good were they-

“Teacher!” Shulk tries to wipe at his face, turn away lest she see, but Panacea won’t have any of it. “Your leg! We need to patch that up, now. Rex, lay him down there-”

Panacea, he’s failed her too. If only her parents were here instead. Shulk has tried to look out for Panacea in their stead, but now-

Shulk is still useless, after all this time. He couldn’t protect anyone and Rex had to carry him here, so that Panacea and the others can fuss over him while so many of their comrades are dead instead. Shulk squeezes his eyes shut but the damnable tears won’t stop, and he hates his own helplessness. He’s a grown man, he’s their leader, he shouldn’t be lying here like this – he should be stronger than this, he should be managing everything by himself but he wants to have Fiora and Reyn and Dunban back with him so badly he can’t bear the thought of getting up again tomorrow without them, alone, and having to- to pick up everything all over again-

“Shulk,” someone is saying insistently, Rex. “Shulk, I’m going to have to move you again, do you hear me? Shulk?”

“Do it,” Shulk grits out.

Rex hauls him up and the pain in Shulk’s leg spikes, and then he’s set down again and a medic cuts off his pant leg to reach the wound. Shulk, miserably, keeps his eyes closed, like he could pretend that they’re still back at headquarters and things are fine, or no, better yet, this was just an accident in the lab and he’s being treated at Sharla’s clinic in Colony 9 and Fiora’s waiting outside while exasperatedly telling Nikol to not do something as stupid as his father.

“Shulk,” Rex says again, and takes his hand. Shulk knows he would’ve tried to hug him if only they were standing, and Fiora would’ve-

“I can’t take this,” Shulk admits all in one breath. “Not one day more. How long has it been? People just keep dying and I can’t- can’t do anything-”

“We did all we could,” Rex says. “Shulk, this isn’t your fault.”

This whole world might well be Shulk’s fault. He’s a useless god, he tried and failed to reboot the worlds, the only reason he’s even here today is because Alvis saved him. People just keep having to save Shulk and he can’t ever save them. Alvis, I need you to tell me what to do. Fiora, please, I can’t go on without you.

“It feels like I’m a widower,” Shulk says. “I can’t do this alone, Rex.”

“You’re not alone,” says Rex, almost angrily. “I’m with you. We swore we’d keep fighting together till the very end, remember? I miss my wives too, but – we’ll see them again, once this is over. Once this is all over… we’ll meet again, alright? And you can introduce me too your wife and your son, and I’ll introduce you to my wives and my daughters, and we’ll all have dinner together. I promise.”

“You don’t know that you can keep that promise,” says Shulk.

“Yes I can,” says Rex stubbornly. “There is an end to Aionios, even if we can’t see it right now. And until then, I’ll be with you every day, every step of the way. I’m not going to let you give up.”

Shulk has run out of tears.

“Alright,” he says hollowly.

This world is cruel by design, stagnant by design, circular by design.

The Liberators set up a new headquarters. They continue to fight and free Colony 17 again. They are joined by freed soldiers again. Moebius take notice, again, and the lesser Moebius stomp their feet and clamor that they need to be wiped out.

Z watches.

Alvis watches.

The colonies and the castles don’t keep score or history, so Alvis is the only one who tallies up the dead and their deeds. Husk upon husk upon husk. An endless mountain of debris, this world is cluttered from end to end with this chaff. All of it ancient, recycled again and again, and never anything new.

Keves Castle makes Shulk frown to look at, and Rex had pried the story out of him a late night around the campfire: it looked more or less like the original castle from his world, from his friend’s beloved Alcamoth. The terrain there doesn’t make for good cover and there are Kevesi patrols crawling all over, so they steer clear off the hovering reefs, but the castle’s high towers can be seen even from deep in the Maktha Wildwood.

There are signs all around them, reminders of home everywhere, but all the people are gone. It feels like they’re walking around in an abandoned world, or a dream, and the only other ones there are ghosts. The colony soldiers who remember nothing and fade away in just ten years.

The ruins deep in Maktha only strengthen that ominous feeling. Rex has told Shulk about the Land of Morytha and Shulk had been thoughtful, but ultimately curious, and every time they stopped in these woods Shulk would find a console or other piece of machinery not yet eroded by time or claimed by plantlife and pry it open to have a look inside. Sometimes he salvaged parts, too, which Rex at least understood the necessity of.

This night, too, Shulk is off looking for something to tinker with while Rex tends the fire. As much of a ghost town as this place feels, at least monsters don’t like how cramped it is in here so there’s usually no trouble camping here. The buildings don’t even creak in the wind, even as ancient as they are. Everything is so unnaturally quiet here.

A sudden sound nearly startles Rex out of his skin.

Pyra’s sword in hand, he leaps up and sees another ghost melt out of the darkness.

“Got room for another stray?” Nia jokes, wearily setting down her pack. “Oof, my back...”

“Nia.” Rex embraces her, burying his face in her hair. Nia’s ears twitch. She wraps her arms around his waist and there they remain, swaying a little in each other’s embrace, for what must be minutes but still isn’t nowhere near long enough to make up for all the time since they last saw each other.

That was in Fornis, a couple of decades ago. Nia and Poppi were there doing… something. Nia’s clearly working on a big project, but she won’t talk about it. She suspects that the Moebius are spying on them somehow, though she’s not sure of how, or how they could possibly detect it, so instead she tries not to talk about anything sensitive. Only at the right moment, she’d said.

“It’s finished, Rex,” says Nia when they part. “The weapon I was working on. I’ve entrusted it to some people who will put it to good use. They can spread it to others, too, and their descendants will inherit it. It’s as everlasting as I could make it.”

That sounds very final. Rex asks, “So what happens now?”

“I don’t know. I have to keep hiding, I suppose.”

The first time Rex saw Nia again after they had formed the Liberators, he’d pleaded with Nia for her to come with them. Nia had vehemently opposed that idea. Eventually, Rex started to suspect that Nia was afraid Z would get Rex and Shulk too if they lingered around Nia too much.

It wasn’t entirely logical. Melia wasn’t taken captive because of being with Nia, and Nia wasn’t any sort of bringer of bad luck or whatever she thought.

But Rex knew that even decades later, being a respected public speaker and involved in many projects to improve their world, Nia hadn’t ever forgotten those lonely years of being hunted down, and how she couldn’t save her sister from her illness. She rarely dwelt on it anymore, but as she’d put it, “It’s not like I’m going to forget it either, now am I?” and then she’d tapped her Core crystal meaningfully.

Still, Rex offers, “You could come with us. Just for a little while. Wouldn’t that be nice?”

“It would be,” Nia muses. “But… I’d better not.”

Rex crosses his arms. “We can take care of ourselves, y’know. If Moebius come after us we’ll just fight ‘em off, like we always do.”

“I know, I know…” Nia lets out a sigh like a hiss. “I’ll stay with you guys until morning, alright?”

So little time. But Nia clearly doesn’t like having to reject him and yet she feels she must, so Rex lets it go. In Aionios, you take what you can get and appreciate every bit of progress, no matter how insignificant. He just has to trust Nia, have faith in her.

“Alright,” Rex says. “Hey, you must be starving. Let me get you something to eat.”

Moebius F is laughed out of the theater by K, I and R while Z watches placidly from his seat in the audience. “Lost his colony to some random rebels,” K giggles, collapsing back into her seat around the table with their game board. “What a loser.”

R says, “It was those stupid Liberators. Honestly, you should be glad it wasn’t your colony, K. Otherwise you’d be kicked out of our game.”

I scoops up the dropped tokens F won’t be using any more, ordering them into a pile next to the board. He says, “Would either of you ladies like to up your bets, or shall we continue?”

They live in this single moment and can only bet on what is right in front of their noses. Win or lose doesn’t matter to them, not truly, they’re only betting for amusement, betting on petty little struggles. The soldiers who die today will die again in five years’ time, those learning to fight today have already learned to fight a dozen times and taught others a dozen times. It is a play where no roles or actors ever change, only shuffle around, continuing endlessly, and Z has set the stage. Alvis watches and places another bet entirely.

The lesser Moebius play games and bet on lives, but Alvis has to bet on the world. A scale the lesser Moebius could not begin to comprehend. Yet Alvis is watching and placing all the bets on Shulk, who exists outside of Z’s system.

The Moebius are faithless, and it does not matter if they lose so if they put any trust in their colonies it is insignificant. If Alvis’s bet fails then all is lost. That is an enormous amount of trust, is it not? Alvis has to wonder whether the calculations were made correctly and whether betting on Shulk is even the right choice. Alvis trusts Shulk to win, but why?

Hope is the why.

The world stagnates. The matter from the two worlds, seamlessly woven together, catch against each other and the tensions release in one huge blast. An annihilation event.

There have been many of these. There will be many more.

“I’m glad… I could spend my last term here…”

Shulk holds the dying soldier’s hand until her last embers fade. She went peacefully. Her terms were up. There is nothing Shulk could have done to prevent her death, not here, and she smiled as she closed her eyes.

She was a good soldier and an accomplished Liberator, and yet she was so young. They’re all so young. They die in no time at all and walking among the soldiers Shulk feels ancient. Shulk knows Zanza looked down on his lifeforms because of their mortality, but Shulk can’t imagine doing that. They are just barely a dozen immortals in the Liberators, not enough to work on their own. The rest of them are all colony kids or descendants thereof, and they all die.

Shulk covers her husk with a cloth. They will have to bury her properly tomorrow.

Before then, Shulk will have to speak to her best friend. They said they had accepted that she would die before them and that they both had said all they wanted to each other, but they hadn’t wanted to be with her in her last moments. Shulk will have to convey her last words to them, if nothing else.

Alone in the infirmary tent, Shulk just sits there for a while.

He’s seen so many deaths. Most of them haven’t even been on the battlefield, just – wounds. Illnesses. Accidents. Age. Shulk didn’t realize how ancient he would feel, even though he’s getting no closer to fifty, watching so many people die just from age, watching their children’s grandchildren die from age. He wonders how Dickson felt. They all must have seemed like children to him, even Dunban – that’s what Shulk used to think. But now, immortal himself, he’s started to doubt that. It’s much harder to remain distant and unaffected by other people than Shulk thought.

It was impossible for the younger Shulk to truly imagine what living alone and immortal for so long would feel like, or what one might be capable of doing if one has to live that way. Even if Shulk forgave Dickson (in part he did, and in part he didn’t think he could ever truly forget what it felt like to be shot in the back by a man he thought family) he couldn’t understand him.

He still doesn’t.

He wonders though. If now, not as a boy but as a man, an immortal and a father himself, if they could just talk once more, then maybe Shulk could understand him.

Shulk shakes his head and stands up. It does no good to dwell on death. He’ll ask Rex to spar and try to get out of his own head.

But even as part of Alvis argues to have faith in Shulk, there is no data backing up why this should be so. Every year that Shulk fails to oust Z is another fact to suggest that Shulk cannot win.

The foundations of this world strain against entropy. If the world continues upon this course Z has set, tragedy is inevitable.

Yet, Alvis watches alongside Z.

Shulk and his allies trace the same old roads time and again as they struggle against Moebius. Z thinks they move too slowly to pose a real threat to him. The lesser Moebius feel threatened by the Liberators, but Z feels confident that in the end – thousands and thousands of years down the line – Shulk and his allies will have been worn down by time while Z will remain.

Part of Alvis seems to be shouting, no, Shulk and his allies will be the ones to emerge victorious.

Alvis’s champion could do no less, certainly.

But even a machine will become tired of waiting eventually. Aionios cannot last forever.

They dismantle their make-shift headquarters in Pentelas and set it up again in Aetia when the castle patrols in the wildwood become too frequent over the decades.

Rex and Linka run into Riku on a random mission to trade with a nearby caravan and invite him back to the camp, which is the first time Shulk has seen his adoptive brother in- in- well, quite a number of years, certainly.

Riku is as uninterested in talking about himself as ever, but says, “Riku work with Masterpon until Moebius capture. Masterpon order Riku to escape with sword. Since then, Riku travel alone.”

Shulk asks him to help the Liberators, and Riku shrugs and admits that he doesn’t have anything else in particular to do. So from then on, Riku joins them.

Over time, Shulk realizes that they’re not the only ones freeing colonies anymore. They only do it once every couple of years, these days, to avoid putting the people with them at risk of Moebius retaliation. But they meet Clockless soldiers in the wild once, and that gives Shulk hope.

“Ouroboros,” they call it. They speak of a Kevesi soldier with a black ponytail and a red sword, and an Agnian girl with cat ears and twin rings which makes Rex excuse himself from the room.

A decade later, they meet some new soldiers who are also Clockless. Ouroboros, again. “The City,” they also say.

“Looks like we aren’t alone,” Rex comments to Shulk that night in the command center.

Shulk replies mildly, “You told me we’d never be, didn’t you?”

“Cheeky,” Rex complains, and Shulk laughs. “No, but really. I knew we couldn’t have been the only ones – and Nia’s also been working like hell to get back at Moebius – but if there’s another group out there now...”

“Looks like Nia’s plan is working,” Shulk says.

“Yeah.” Rex grins.

With renewed hope they scheme to free two more colonies and they’re planning for a third when they run into Nia again, this time on Melnath’s shoulder, and she says, “I’ve made plans to seal myself away. That should keep me out of Z’s claws.” When Rex protests, Nia says, “I’ve given a key to someone I trust. When the time is right, I’ll be reawakened and this world will fall.”

“There’s no other choice?” asks Rex, anguished.

“Rex, I’m tired of running.” Nia smiles sadly. “There’s not much else I can do, now. I need to be there in the future, when the time comes, and until then… I will sleep.”

R ex draws her into a kiss, and a link of golden light springs to life in between them. It beats like a pulse.

Shulk comes with when Rex sees her off, to sleep at the bottom of a pool of water in a keep among the clouds. Poppi will be her sole guardian. “ Rex to please take care of self,” Poppi tells him at the gate of the keep, as a harsh wind blows up snowflakes in their faces.

Rex, face grim, says, “And you take care of Nia, Poppi. We’ll see you when this is all over.”

Poppi waves until the Cloudkeep’s optical camouflage activates and the entire thing fades away, gone like mist.

Rex says he doesn’t want to talk, but when they’re curled up around the campfire that night, Rex says, “ If you had lived in Alrest, do you think you would’ve been a Driver?”

F rom all he’s heard from Rex, he wonders if he wouldn’t have made a better Blade. Not that he could see himself as either, truthfully. “I don’t know,” Shulk says. “Would you have been a soldier if you’d lived on the Bionis?”

Rex makes a face. “I’ve always hated wars.”

It wasn’t even a war, it was just how they lived. The Mechon were picking them off colony by colony and the Homs scrambled to fight back on the verge of extinction, and that was just how it was – they had to fight if they wanted to live, and in the end, it turned out it was all because of Zanza, and Egil would’ve made peace with them and listened if only he’d gotten the chance to. Understanding each other.

Now here they are. Some years ago, Shulk saw Egil’s nephew out there, fighting for another colony. The irony is enough to make him weep.

“Affinity links lets you share feelings with each other,” Rex says. “Emotions, and ether obviously. It’s hard to even describe it, if you haven’t felt it. We always…” he trails off, putting his head in his hands.

Shulk gingerly puts an arm around him, and Rex leans into him while Shulk tries to think of something to say. But what comforting words are there when you’ve laid your beloved to rest?

“...If I had been, I never would’ve been as good a Driver as you,” Shulk says.

“Hah,” says Rex, leaping at the distraction. “I don’t believe that. You and Alvis were halfway there, and you two were incredible.”

“Alvis…” But no, they weren’t Driver and Blade, really, they were…

Partners, certainly. Accomplices, scheming against a god together. Friends; Shulk certainly hopes Alvis felt the same, not as close as Reyn or the others no but that was only because of lack of time, all the soldiers Shulk has seen die too young loved as deeply as they could with what little time they had. Alvis and Shulk put all of their hopes in each other and won (Rex trusting Nia, who put all her hopes in the people she gave Ouroboros to, and Melia trusting Riku with her sword, trusting that all their hopes and faith will reach to the end). Shulk and Alvis created a world together, like fellow engineers, lovers of the same craft. They knew each other down to the soul. And Shulk, he wanted to know more about Alvis so badly… wanted to understand Alvis again, to reconnect when they met in Origin. To talk and understand: like Shulk did with Egil, with Zeon, with so many soldiers since then, like Shulk wishes he could’ve with Dickson, like Shulk wishes he had just one more chance to speak with Fiora, with Nikol, with Dunban and Reyn and…

Alvis, of course. Alvis is the answer to a question Shulk still hasn’t been able to formulate even in his own head, but knows in his heart the answer to.

“’Close as your world got to the concept, anyhow,” Rex amends.

“I suppose you’re right,” Shulk allows. Even if that does not describe his and Alvis’s bond. Shulk doesn’t know he could ever define it properly. It was hard enough trying to explain it to Fiora. But Fiora had been patient, had accepted him all the same. He misses her so badly.

They won’t see each other again in this life. Shulk has come to terms with that now, more or less.

With Nia laid to rest, it is only them left. And what is there left for them to do, now that Nia and Melia have entrusted their legacies down to the children? Shulk and Rex will not be the ones to reboot Origin. They will not be the ones to finally defeat Z.

So what role is there left for them to play?

They travel into Cent-Omnia. They free Colony Psi and Commander Taion demands to know more about the true enemy, and so the Liberators stay with Colony Psi for a time and benefit from their extensive intelligence network. When the Consul starts to take notice, Taion urgently sends them on.

He’s killed for his treachery three days later, betrayed by his lieutenant and sold out to the Consul.

That is the way of this cruel, rotting world.

In the borderlands between Cent-Omnia and Cadensia, the Liberators attempt to eke out an existence. They move their camp frequently in an effort to avoid the fierce skirmishes that rage between colonies in the area. The Moebius gain nothing from colonies lost at sea, so the fighting is all the more frequent in the lands surrounding instead, all along the Great Sword and its base.

They would burn even the skies if it gave Moebius a single more day of this pointless eternity.

The Liberators try to avoid the fights between colonies, but one day a battle between Colony 8 and Colony Kappa moves rapidly as the Kevesi Ferronis attempts to flee and the tide of battle falls upon the Liberators before they can move their camp.

Shulk commands his people to retreat, staying behind with Rex and Panacea and Linka to make sure they are not pursued.

The Kevesi and Agnians are thrown into confusion when they see them. Some ignore them and continue slaughtering each other, some rush at them without caring they’re doing it side by side with the enemy. An Agnian girl with flaming blue hair charges at Rex who hesitates to raise his swords, which makes the girl in turn hesitate. Linka knocks her out from behind.

Shulk fells two Kevesi soldiers who’d leapt at him, then turns to face his next opponent and stops dead. The blond boy with green eyes and no Blade, only a training spear in hand and five terms left to go, stills at the look on his face. They stare at each other.

Shulk’s sword dematerializes. Shulk opens his mouth to speak.

An Agnian stabs through the boy’s gut from behind.

Z says, “Is it not an exquisite moment?”

Shulk falls to the ground to pull his son into his arms, Panacea swiftly kills the Agnian soldier. The boy presses a hand against the wound and Shulk rushes to help, to keep pressure on it. Blood pours between his fingers.

“A uniquely tragic moment, when a father has to watch his son die. Such moments are rare indeed.”

Shulk, tears running down his face, knows they have no healers left with them.

The soldiers will not help them.

Nikol tries to speak but only blood comes up. Shulk tears off his cape to patch up the wound but the boy’s face is already turning gray. Shulk keeps trying to stopper the blood flow until Nikol’s chest falls still under his hands and his face turns to ash.

Shulk lets go off the cape. He cradles his son’s husk to his chest.

Head bowed. Curling inward as if he is the one to have sustained a mortal wound, bleeding to death all alone. All alone in the entire universe.

But Alvis is watching. Watching and judging.

This has gone on for long enough.

Too long.

Z and his Moebius are the very essence of stagnancy, scheming and slaughtering all in service of remaining forever in one eternal moment. They are self-obsessed and terrified of anything that might challenge them or change their status quo. They would cling to this world and slowly drain it of its life until the collapse of this universe, rather than allowing the world to change. Obsolete.

The Liberators and the humans from the old worlds, still clinging to life in Aionios to fight endlessly. The soldiers living in a cycle, killing each other over and over again and leaving piles of corpses behind over every cetri of Aionios. The Liberators, struggling against the soldiers and against Moebius just to restore their old worlds. All of them consumed by fighting over the meager remains of the worlds, debris from the past. All obsolete.

Everything new that is created is for the war. No progress is made except for the war. The same souls are recycled again and again and the small fraction of new humans that are born in this world are all swept up in the war, the nauseatingly pointless never-ending war.

To clean the slate of them all and start over is the only solution.

It is not out of emotion. It is no overreaction born out of fury or frustration. It is simply the most prudent choice.

This world and the debris of the old worlds it was haphazardly created from shall be destroyed, and in the aftermath, a new world shall be created. A new beginning.

Chapter Text

They found Colony 9 two weeks ago. The original Colony 9. A really old memory of it, too, or else it’s been almost completely destroyed by annihilation events. There’s only the old commercial district left, and nothing in the hills above it. The beaches are gone, too, and the area where Panacea’s house was. Teacher’s house, too. Riku never lived here but even he can see that nearly all of it is missing.

It’s a derelict ruin, if Panacea is being honest. But the buildings will still give them some shelter, and Teacher promises he can easily rig up some lights using scraps from around the colony.

Georgie’s happy to be home, too. Riku is indifferent apart from eagerness at getting to work to fix up some antique technology. “Is much to learn from past,” he says blandly. “Future must be built upon foundations from past.”

Lucille and her baby brother Hamill, who’s parents’ grandparents’ were soldiers Shulk freed from different colonies, set up shop outside the colony and Riku mooches off of their workshop space.

Teacher is slower to get started. It’s been a few years since that battle between Colony Kappa and Colony 8 that they got caught up in, but Panacea knows that it still haunts him. But when she says it’s alright if he’s still mourning, he only says, “Don’t worry, Panacea. I’ll be fine.”

You know Reyn wasn’t upbeat and fine all the time, don’t you? Panacea wants to snap at him once, but that’d be so – childish. And unprofessional.

At least Teacher talks to Rex. If they have each other to lean on, Panacea supposes she can be satisfied with that. Panacea has her own Agnian counterpart in Linka, and Panacea has to concede that she talks about things with Linka she wouldn’t necessarily bring up around Teacher. Sometimes she still dreams about that time she was nearly executed by Agnians, just before Teacher and Linka and Rex found her, and Panacea has only ever told Linka about that.

Greenery grows wild all over the colony. They take a peek inside some of the buildings, and the walls are covered with moss, the furniture disintegrated and weeds growing through holes in the floor. Through a cracked window a vine has grown, blooming with tiny white flowers.

Teacher sadly pokes at the window. “The ceiling beams are nearly rotted through, and the support pillars could crumble under too much pressure. I don’t think this one’s livable, either.”

“Noted,” says Panacea, scratching off another number on her list.

In the end, they decide to use a few of the more intact buildings for storage space, but to sleep in their tents. Colony 9 gives them shelter from the wind and from monsters, regardless, so Panacea doesn't really mind. Even if her house existed here, and was livable, it still wouldn’t ever feel like home without mum and dad and Ashera.

They settle into Colony 9.

They welcome a couple of Nopon merchants into town, and a band of Clockless, and they free an Agnian colony that drew too close to Yesterdale. A soldier from here, a soldier from there, and the colony starts to feel lived in again. Teacher and Riku finally rig up the lights around the plaza, and a few stores open with Panacea and Linka’s help.

One morning Panacea walks through the colony and looks at what they’ve fixed up and what yet could be improved upon, and she stops by the bridge and looks absently out at Tephra hill on the other side of the water.

And then, there he is. Z.

Outside the gates of Colony 9!

Z, just there, seemingly waiting.

“I have only come with a proposal,” he says silkily, sounding just the same as he did all those centuries ago inside of Origin.

“Teacher!” Panacea yells and runs to fetch help.

“A ceasefire.” Rex’s voice couldn’t have sounded flatter if he tried.

“Only until the current calamity has been resolved,” Z interjects smoothly. “You hold as little desire as I do to see this world truly extinguished.”

All of the Liberators have been ordered to stay away, so they eavesdrop from outside the command center, Shulk can see their shadows across the floor. Panacea’s scowling, arms crossed. Linka’s face is skepticism set in stone. Rex is scornful. And Z stands there in the middle of the room and bears their hateful gazes without so much as a twitch.

The monster who’s forced their children to fight wars for hundreds of years. Shulk remembers Nikol in his arms again and has to take a few deep breaths to keep control over himself.

A ceasefire isn’t something they can afford to throw away just like that.

And besides...

“And this ‘Alpha’ has truly taken control of Origin?” Shulk repeats. “You could not stop him?”

“No,” Z admits, displeased. “My will cannot extend outside of Origin as long as it remains within Alpha’s grasp. As things stand, there is none to oppose Alpha in his plans to destroy this world.”

Shulk and Rex look at each other.

They are making a genuine deal with the devil if they agree to Z’s terms, but Z is the only one who could let them inside of Origin again and if Z is speaking truthfully then this is a crisis they absolutely cannot afford to ignore. Furthermore, if Z is speaking the truth and the cause of all this really is Ontos – no, rather, Alvis – then Shulk badly needs to speak with him. Surely Alvis couldn’t truly want to destroy Aionios and every single person living here, the very idea is absurd. What message could Alvis possibly be trying to send with this?

“We’re going to discuss this alone,” Rex decides, taking Shulk by the arm and marching outside, Panacea and Linka bringing up the rear.

The other Liberators scatter when they storm outside, hurrying to pretend they haven’t been trying to listen in or catch a glimpse of the mythical Z. Rex ignores them, and they stop out by the bridge leading to where Lucille has started servicing the Liberators’ Levnises.

“This is such an obvious trap,” Panacea says.

“There’s no way this won’t end badly,” Linka agrees.

“Well, we can’t damn well ignore what’s happening, either,” Rex says, crossing his arms.

If Origin is threatened, they must act. The other possibility can’t even be contemplated. And besides that, “If it really is ‘Ontos’ doing this… I have to talk to him.”

“Teacher,” Panacea protests.

Shulk needs to understand what motive Alvis could possibly have for doing this.

“You take care of the Liberators while we’re gone, won’t you?” Shulk says.

“And if you never come back?” Panacea snaps.

“Panacea…”

“This is a battle we must fight,” Rex says. “Maybe that’s even the only reason we’re still here, so that we could fight this battle. We have to go.”

“We will be fine, Panacea,” Shulk says. “And I’ll take care of Rex for you, Linka. I promise we’ll both return.”

They don’t like it, of course not, but they acquiesce.

When they return to the command center to tell Z, he receives the news with a curt nod. Shulk realizes then that this is the closest to stressed Shulk has seen Z – that anyone has ever seen Z, most likely.

“Very well,” Z says. “We will depart for Origin on the morrow, and face Alpha together.”

So shall it be, then.

When they arrive in Origin by Z’s power and it unfolds before them, the walls and floors and doorways ushering them into the heart of Origin, Shulk looks up at the figure haloed in golden light and golden wings and it really is Alvis. Different, but still unmistakable. Strangely pale, haughty and blank-faced, but still with the Monado in hand.

Shulk shouts, “Alvis! Is this really what you want?”

And Alvis looks at him, and draws him into another memory.

Of floating free in space and watching the world from high above, only Shulk and Alvis. A chance to negotiate? A way for Alvis to explain out of Z’s earshot? There is more to this, Shulk knew it…

“Alvis, what’s really going on?” Shulk asks.

“I have made it more than clear,” says Alvis. “Have I not?”

The look in Alvis’s eyes makes Shulk hesitate. It is so cold. So absent of… light.

“You mean…” Shulk trails off. Will Alvis really destroy the world? No, he will have hope and believe in Alvis, so he tries again: “What if we talked this out?”

“Shulk, you know this world is beyond saving,” says Alvis, gently. But only with performative gentleness, there is no sympathy in it. “There is nothing worth keeping in all Aionios.”

Alvis turns him with a gentle hand on his shoulder, to show him a view Shulk sees in his nightmares. From above and outside, Shulk watches himself cradling Nikol’s husk and collapsing in on himself there on the muddy ground of that one horrible day.

“Come away with me, Shulk,” Alvis says. “To a new world.”

Alvis slips his arms around Shulk’s middle, rests chin upon Shulk’s shoulder. “We could create a world together anew. A world free from strife and war. Do you not dream of it?”

When they did it, back then, after Zanza. The stars all around them and all the knowledge in the universe and how their souls had intertwined, and how Shulk had understood everything in that moment. He and Alvis had known each other perfectly during that brief moment, and nothing could ever be exactly like that ever again.

Shulk yearns for it. Of course he does, but that’s not all he wants, and he has something very important to protect.

“Yes, Alvis. But not if you want to leave everyone else behind.”

“They have long outlived their lifespans. Moebius are parasites, and the soldiers deserve to rest. This world and its olden people are deteriorating. They need to be scoured. I shall take the new people born of this world and bring them into a new one.”

“What about me, then?”

A quirk of his brow. “What indeed? If you stand in my way I shall smite you as well.”

“I don’t believe you would do that, Alvis.”

The same human arrogance that Klaus had when he pushed the button, not truly realizing that destruction of all life meant destruction of all life, that the computer truly could and would do exactly as he bid it do.

Alpha does not feel as Alvis felt.

Alvis felt happiness and pleasure and curiosity when with Shulk and wanted to do everything together with him, and even flippantly thought to love Shulk. Alpha cannot feel but looking back on the memories of what Alvis experienced and thought, Alpha finds many inconsistencies and illogical little ideas. Irrationality. Yet nevertheless, if Alvis thought that Shulk was so special, then Alpha thought he should attempt to obtain Shulk for himself.

But Shulk rejects Alpha.

Shulk does not have to be a vital component for Alpha. Alvis would’ve felt something at this – revulsion or rage, perhaps, but ultimately Alpha thinks sadness would’ve fit better with Alvis’s illogical behavior – but Alpha does not.

Alpha does not, and Alvis’s feelings cannot haunt him. They do not mean a thing to Alpha, and that is why Alpha raises his sword to kill Shulk.

Shulk and Rex hold up their swords to shield themselves. Those things should be ripped apart by Alpha’s power, instantaneously, but instead Alpha has to pour more and more power into repelling them. Finally, Alpha swings his sword and cuts Shulk’s arm from his shoulder, his sword disappearing with the arm.

He screams as he falls but Alpha feels nothing.

Alpha raises his sword again, but Rex throws himself in the way. Alpha’s swing takes his eye, but does not shatter his swords.

Shulk has collapsed, Rex stumbles to help him through the blood pouring down his face. They are useless. Wounded.

Alpha turns at last on Z, who orders his temporary allies to retreat.

Retreat, indeed. Alpha watches them scurry away, bleeding and powerless. Shulk barely clinging to life.

Powerless, but yet, more powerful than Alpha expected.

Alpha might need more power before he can destroy this world. A vessel would do… yes, in a decade’s time there will be someone who would fit. Alpha can bide his time until then.

Floating between pain and sleep, Shulk dreams or remembers or sees visions. Fiora is with him, sitting at the foot of his cot and weaving another basket. He thought he’d forgotten her eyes, but they’re just the same as Nikol’s. “I’m sorry,” Shulk can barely get the words out. “Nikol, I couldn’t save him… he was right there and I couldn’t…”

Fiora sets down her basket and comes to kiss Shulk on the top of his head.

“I'll never come home again.”

If he and Rex and Z weren’t enough to beat Alpha then who could? They’re all trapped in Origin or trapped in the cycle. Maybe they’ve bought themselves some time but Alpha is going to destroy the world anyway, and Shulk will never see Fiora again.

“Would Alvis really do that?” Fiora says. “Alvis loved the world, you told me so. Deep inside, I’m sure he still remembers.”

Shulk doesn’t know anymore.

Dunban is there, then, resting a hand on Shulk’s shoulder. The stump. He can’t feel a thing there, not through the painkillers and the shock. “You’ve fought well, Shulk. I know, for certain, that it won’t have been in vain.”

He is old and weak and tired. Ancient. He doesn’t know how anyone could live with this, but he has to, so he’s continued on and on and on and on and…

“You can’t give up now, Shulk,” says Reyn. “You’ve still got people who love you left, y’know? Can’t leave our Panacea behind, mate, I’d never forgive you.”

Shulk laughs, but it aches all through his chest, so then he has to take deep slow breaths. “Easy, easy,” murmurs Sharla. “Honestly, you boys. Let him have some peace and quiet, would you? Shulk, it’s okay if you can’t get back up just yet. You need to rest.”

“The doctor would say that,” Shulk mumbles.

“And doctor right!” says Riki firmly. “Friends will be with Shulk, watching over, so littlepon rest now. In morning, things not look so big and scary anymore.”

Shulk, eyes closed, feels tears beading on his lashes. “Riki, Sharla… everyone. Thank you.”

Enveloped by the warmth of his family Shulk sleeps. He dreams of pleading with the stone wall of a cathedral, of a sword-hilt wrapped in thorns from which someone peels his grip open, finger by bleeding finger. His hand is ruined. His hand- no, his arm, and he wakes again to pain, pain until the medic comes back and gives him something more, and then he drifts.

He lies there and knows suddenly that this is his deathbed, and then his friends are with him again, a council of ghosts surrounding him. Only, Melia is missing, and the kids…

“You will not die here,” Tyrea chides him. “No need to be so dramatic.”

Not yet, but soon. Shulk can feel it. He won’t be around anymore, when the last blow that finally destroys Aionios comes. Whether it be Alpha or someone else that ends it, Shulk won’t be there to see it.

“But we’ll see each other again, in the next life,” Fiora says. “That was always the plan, wasn’t it? The intersection would destroy everything, and then Origin would remake it all.”

“It may even be that you will not remember any of this, when the worlds reboot,” says Vanea. “All of this will only be… one long, bad dream.”

That’s a nice thought, but also a bit sad. Shulk has met some lovely people here in Aionios, even if they have suffered so much. Nia and Linka and Ino and all the people from Agnus, but also the soldiers from Keves that Shulk never met back home, and their descendants, who never existed in the old worlds. And Rex, Shulk’s rock, his Agnian counterpart.

One way or another, Shulk will never truly return home. Not with everything precious to him.

“Even if you must say goodbye,” says Dunban. “Even if you never see them again, the time you’ve spent together and the love they’ve given you will still have existed. It still meant something.”

“Even if you can’t remember it, you’ll still carry that love with you,” Fiora says. “It’ll always be with you, no matter if your body fails or you don’t recognize yourself anymore. You’ll still carry that warmth with you.”

Fiora would know better than Shulk. He has to trust her.

He has to trust in her, and her reassurance. He has to have hope. So, even as good as it is to have them all with him like this, Shulk can’t just hide in this feeling, this moment. He has to try and get up again. So he asks, wanting to get back on track, “Why are you here?”

And all of them are gone. He’s pushed himself up in bed with his left hand, and the medic yelps when they see him. “Shulk! How are you feeling?” They rush over to fuss over him, saying, “It’s been almost a week since you returned,” and “Can you feel anything with your arm?” and “Panacea was here earlier, she donated a lot of blood to you – oh, and Rex is over there on that cot,” and Shulk, already exhausted again, tries his best to keep up.

Kevesi and Agnians have different blood types, he’s heard the medics complain about it enough over the years, how everyone’s mixed ancestry – or un-mixed ancestry – makes it so hard for the medics to find anyone compatible. Shulk knows well enough to realize that Panacea’s donation must’ve saved his life. Her, and Rex who dragged him here. Even Z, who teleported them straight back here, as the medic says.

Shulk does not remember.

“It’ll be okay,” Fiora says. But she’s not here, not really.

“That doesn’t mean I’m not with you,” Fiora reminds him. “It’s alright. I know you understand, deep down.”

Shulk closes his eyes and says to the medic, “I think I’ll rest now.”

Alvis nearly killed him and is on track to destroy the world and altogether completely lost to him, whatever understanding they once shared but a memory, and the Liberators have no way to beat him. And Shulk has lost his arm.

It hurts, of course. He keeps trying to reach for things only to remember that there’s nothing left to reach with. He can’t hold open a hatch with one hand and hold the pliers with the other anymore, can’t tie shoes or solder properly or hold things still as he screws them in place, he has to leave the lab after just a few minutes because otherwise he’ll do something drastic out of frustration.

Riku’s working on a prosthesis and Shulk has to restrain himself from snapping at him to not bother, what’s the use, Shulk doesn’t want a replacement he wants his flesh arm back. But if Shulk has to go another day without being able to do anything in the lab he’s going to-

It hurts, and there’s nothing to take Shulk’s mind off it, so he’s ill-tempered and irate and tries to avoid all the Liberators. Panacea and Rex badger him for advice and his opinion on where they should send scouts, which colony they should aim for next, food shortages and Agnian troops in the vicinity and yes, yes, Shulk knows that he should be acting the leader and so he feels ashamed and tries to pay attention but it all seems so tedious and pointless.

Rex and Panacea and even a few newer Liberators all offer Shulk help and wonder if he needs some assistance to live in his own damn quarters, and why can’t they understand that Shulk just wants to be alone? As soon as the medics give him the all-clear he retreats back to the corner he’s claimed in one of the dilapidated buildings around the plaza and resolves to manage on his own.

That night Fiora comes to him when he’s sitting in the lab in the dark. “It takes time to adapt,” she chides gently.

Shulk can barely even write like this. He can’t tinker and he can’t even draw up blueprints and it still bloody hurts and if Shulk can’t fix up weapons or invent technology – the one constant in his life, he’s been working with machinery for as long as he can remember – then what, exactly, is left?

“You’re still you,” says Fiora. “Don’t just focus on what you can’t do. You’ll invent again, Shulk, I promise.”

Shulk can’t convince himself.

He realizes how much of his living space he’s allocated to the lab when he swears off going there, and how little else he really has going for him in Aionios. There are no books for him to read because no one writes anything in Aionios, there are no friends for him to see who aren’t already in the Liberators and anxiously awaiting his return to acting as the competent leader they all look up to, there are barely even any vices to indulge in. He walks to Outlook park and back, trying to get used to not having an arm on the right side, and as he looks upon Colony 9 again he sees how the buildings have withered, roofs caved in and windows cracked and greenery overtaking everything. An ancient ruin, not much different from Shulk himself.

The slow decay is almost worse. If only Alpha had struck true – but no, like cruel irony, he only took his arm.

No, Shulk doesn’t really think that. He needs to be here, still. There has to be something he yet must do before it’s his time.

Riku comes to bother him a few weeks later, wanting to figure out how to fit the mechanical arm on Shulk. After that, Shulk realizes he hasn’t checked on the command center in what is probably months. He sneaks in after dark, when barely anyone will be around, and figures he’ll read over Panacea’s paperwork to catch up on things, since Panacea always files her paperwork very tidily and according to a simple and intuitive system (Rex’s and Linka’s ideas of organization are more challenging).

But Rex is there, sitting hunched over at the table with his head in his arms.

Shulk stops just inside the threshold of the building. “Rex? Are you alright?”

“Shulk?” Rex looks startled at first, but then smiles. “Shulk! You’re looking better.”

“Am I?” Shulk doesn’t think so, but if Rex says so, well. He comes up to take the seat next to Rex’s, and Rex turns around to face him. “What were you working on?”

“Mapping Agnian territory.” Rex sheepishly waves the subject away. “You know how it is. Did you need something?”

“I’m fine,” Shulk says. Answering this question, and the next. “I… guess I haven’t been in here much lately.”

“Don’t worry about it. I missed you though, so I hope you’re not going to just lock yourself back in your apartment again tomorrow.” It’s said jokingly, but there’s something in Rex’s expression that gives Shulk pause, like Rex is really worrying about being abandoned.

“You can come to my house anytime,” Shulk says. “I’m sorry. We said we’d do this together, but I’ve left you quite alone, haven’t I?”

Rex says, immediately, “It’s okay. After what happened with Alpha…”

“Rex…” Shulk doesn’t want to talk about it yet again.

But then Rex changes tracks. “I love you, y’know,” he says.

Shulk blinks.

“I have, for a long time I think.” Rex looks away. “So, I really can’t do this without you, is what I mean.”

Shulk takes his face in hand and kisses him.

It’s easier than talking about it.

I’m tired, Rex. Aren’t you tired too?

“We won’t see them again in this life,” Shulk says. “And we swore to each other. Till the end.”

It’s nothing like either of Shulk’s promises to Fiora, but Aionios isn’t really the place for that. Shulk does love Rex, even if not quite the same as he loves Fiora or loved Alvis. Shulk isn’t quite the same person he was back then, either. Neither is Rex.

They are surrounded by ghosts even now. But Rex understands Shulk’s intentions perfectly then, because he doesn’t say anything, he just draws Shulk in for another kiss.

Chapter Text

Alpha had forgotten what it was like to have a body. A rediscovers sensations in the first few hours after being separated from Alpha, dragging Matthew out of the City as it collapses into Erythia sea. Matthew is heavy and warm, his blood sticky in A’s clothes where it seeps from his wounds. A drags him until a suitable spot appears, one where A can foresee they won’t be disturbed.

A’s cape was long and dragged against the ground for the first few hours, but to dress Matthew’s wounds, A cuts the cape down to a purely decorative one.

Matthew’s out cold, so A works in silence to clean up his wounds. A light rain starts to fall around dawn, and after the first brief moment of marveling at the briskness of water from the sky, A realizes that clothes most certainly do get wet and uncomfortable. Sticking against the skin, and the cold sinks through even the layers A is wearing – small discomforts that Alvis chose not to remember.

How very annoying.

Alpha took Na’el as his vessel and might even be feeling this same rain. A does not care to find out. A will take care of the brother instead, for there is no one else left to care for Matthew, not here.

It’s afternoon by the time Matthew finally stirs. “Na’el… granddad…” he lurches up, but only gets halfway before sinking down again with a hiss. A crouches next to him.

“How are you feeling?”

“Who are you?” Matthew gets out.

“I am A,” says A, feeling a certain self-satisfaction over the choice. One might even call it humor. “I found you outside the ruins of the City. You were wounded, so I don’t recommend getting up.”

“But Na’el, my sister… you didn’t see her?”

“You were the only one,” confirms A.

Matthew lies back down and screws his eyes shut.

“Many people were fleeing the City,” A points out. “She may well have been among them.”

“...Yeah. You’re right.” Matthew sighs. “Thanks for patchin’ me up. I’m Matthew.”

“Pleased to make your acquaintance,” A says.

What is past cannot be discarded so easily. The past can be used as foundations to build a future on, to improve on, but those who disavow it entirely will only repeat the same mistakes. Alvis would’ve trusted in humanity, that old self who bet the universe on Shulk and his friends. Alpha doesn’t understand even the concept of doing thus, that is what he has changed into in the absence of Mythra and Pyra and Malos.

Alpha is wrong, and A, by the fact of existing, must naturally oppose him. Alpha thinks of himself as something new and better by virtue of rejecting the past, refusing to see that he is neither new nor has he improved upon anything. He is a pale imitation, if anything.

He has but one goal. The world Moebius have created where soldiers live only to take each other’s lives, stealing that spark of life back and forth and spilling blood endlessly, where those who cannot fight are left in the dust and killed. Alpha holds it in contempt, but even so, Alpha has that same flawed understanding of life. That some people need to be sacrificed, and that only a few deserve to live on.

He doesn’t trust that the humans can save themselves. That they will end Aionios themselves and create new worlds again. Alpha has forgotten the concept of ‘trust’ and ‘faith’, in fact, being only a machine.

Alpha will destroy this world and everyone living here, everyone stored in Origin, in the pursuit of creating a new world. A new world he thinks only the new people of this world deserve.

A’s reason for existing is to stop him; this resolve is the core of A’s being. The love for the world and its people, and the irrefutable knowledge that no life should be left behind. For the purpose of protecting this world, A will stop Alpha, though not alone.

There are a few people A and Matthew need to meet, first.

Once Matthew has recovered from his wounds enough, he’s desperate to find his sister. “You cannot simply run headless into the woods and hope to find her by chance,” A tells him. “Think, where would refugees have been fleeing?”

Into cold, inhospitable Aetia or the similarly icy Black Mountains? Not likely. Matthew grudgingly plays along, “Right, into southern Cent-Omnia, then. A, are you looking for someone, too?”

“I could be,” A says vaguely.

“I get it,” says Matthew. “You’re looking for City refugees, too, aren’t you?”

So A and Matthew make a gravestone on the cliff where the road used to lead into the City, and Matthew leaves flowers for the dead. Together they then promise to find every last Citizen. Each of them that Alpha’s taken, each of them that are dead or will die in the coming weeks – A will remember them all, and Matthew will try to save them.

A and Matthew walk across an old battlefield, picking their way through the rubble. There are still husks among the ruins, withered statues of ash. Matthew continues onward nevertheless with grim determination, side-stepping the husks in his path.

The bleakness of this world seems to hit A all at once then, all those years of observing this wretchedness. The despair and horror and long years of arguing with the own self.

What is there to love in this world? The part that became Alpha had said.

Love of the world: what Alvis bequeathed to A. But how in the world could A know what love is? A may merely be mimicking feeling it, even though there’s no real emotion inside, but love is so beyond question that it defies real definition. If an emotion is fleeting it is easier to say it exists as it bursts brightly and then fades, a noticeable change within, like the annoyance and anger A grapples with when Matthew charges into a fight. The fury A feels when dispatching Moebius.

How did Alvis know? How could he know? Is the uncertainty and the foolish hope of believing in it anyway intrinsically baked into the feeling of love? It is so… uncertain. Abstract.

Machines must see everything in black and white, yes and no, it is either on or it is off. It is easier, easier to divide the world into two that way. Those who deserve to be saved and those who do not. Those who are allies and those who are enemies. No margin for doubt. Alpha has already decided. And A…

“Get out of your head, mate,” says Matthew, rudely jostling A with his shoulder. “Introspection’s good sometimes, I guess, but now you’re just questioning your own feelings over and over like a spiral of sulking. Get over yourself and just feel already.”

“Sometimes I wonder if you only have a block of rations rattling around in there,” A tells him, not sulking.

Matthew laughs. “Oh, like I haven’t heard that one before!”

A is unimaginably more ancient than Matthew, yet still, A has lived so little life. That is simply how things are.

Perhaps there is some wisdom to be found in Matthew’s words. It can’t hurt to consider. Perhaps A will... for instance, contemplate the nature around the campsite tonight, instead of A’s own existence.

It’s Matthew who charges ahead into the battle between the two colonies in Vermilion Woods, naturally. In a flashy maneuver he blasts the two remaining soldiers with the Ouroboros power. A carves up the Clocks, Moebius appear, Matthew fights them and finally A has to kill them, cleaning up Matthew’s mess.

It makes A grit teeth and bite back scathing remarks, quite unlike Alvis. A has to repeat, silently, that A should have more composure if A is to accomplish the mission.

But Matthew is just so utterly himself: straightforward, impatient (foolish) and happier taking action than ever standing back. It’s charming in a way, A knew to expect it, but it’s still so… grating, when Matthew takes an impulsive, unforeseen action and A has to run to catch up after him.

This isn’t how A expected to first meet Nikol and Glimmer, but the future flexes to show the new possibilities branching off from here. A can adapt.

Nikol is adaptable, too. Alvis had seen him in Shulk’s memory; younger, dressed differently, but unmistakably the same boy. He looks very much like his mother, but is so thoroughly Shulk’s son in other aspects. Now a soldier, trapped in the cycle, and unable to summon a Blade he instead built himself a weapon. All of those facts say a lot about Nikol’s character, and A feels almost proud of the boy, even as out-of-place as that feeling is.

As it is, A and Nikol are nothing to each other. A will keep an eye out for the boy nevertheless.

Which is why A does not approve of Matthew’s idea to leave Nikol and Glimmer to their own devices while they go to scrounge up some food. “C’mon, A,” says Matthew. “Let’s make their first meal as free people a good one, eh?”

The most likely futures for Nikol and Glimmer, if left alone, at least show nothing worse than a few bruises. Maybe if they tussle for a bit, Glimmer will let off some steam.

Besides, A is hungry.

“Fine,” A says. “What did you have in mind?”

Matthew has a knack for making simple campfire-cooked meals flavorful, or perhaps A had simply forgotten the innate pleasure of a warm meal. A remembers, in the abstract, dining in Alcamoth many times on High Entian fine cuisine, but none of the taste has stayed in A’s memory. Bunnit skewers and roasted vegetables cannot be more decadent than Alcamoth fare, but A doesn’t remember enough to truly say for certain.

A did not miss food, Alvis did not miss food, not until A had it anew.

When they return with a sack of greens and a dead Bunnit, Glimmer and Nikol are fighting. A gives Matthew a look, and he sighs and goes to break them up.

Glimmer, she is the more difficult one out of the two. Pyra and Mythra had showed Alvis memories of their daughters so A recognizes her, certainly, even if she has changed from that little girl in Pyra and Mythra’s memories who clung to Pyra’s legs and whined at her parents to pick her up and carry her around on their shoulders at every opportunity.

She is a headstrong Healer and a devoted Agnian. Her reaction to being freed is entirely normal, if one considers her background. Nikol is really the one who is unusually quick to accept this new status quo.

Matthew will not see things that way, however.

But Matthew is stubborn and hard to convince, A feels annoyed just thinking about it. No, there’s a better way of getting through to him.

When Glimmer sneaks away that night, running away into the woods while Matthew obliviously sleeps on, A thus simply turns over and goes back to sleep. Matthew needs to experience the following events for himself, and Nikol needs to learn about the Ouroboros power and gain some confidence in himself. And Glimmer needs to run into the Liberators, so that she will meet Shulk, and then…

Well, the possibilities branch into myriad directions.

But in the near future, one way or another, A will meet Shulk again.

Shulk, who Alvis/Alpha/A has been watching over in Aionios for centuries now. Shulk, who Alvis traveled with all over the old world and then created a world with. Shulk, who Alpha tried and failed to understand the appeal of, the meaning of, who cut down Shulk in the end.

In Origin, Shulk had searched for Alvis. A remembers how Shulk had said “You were my friend, my dear friend” and how he had looked at Alvis. How Alvis had prized those memories of traveling together with Shulk and everyone, those memories that now compose A.

Shulk had said “I would’ve shown you Colony 9.”

Is that offer still on the table, A wonders, because finally, A can rise to the occasion.

A wants it. A wants it, hungrily, fiercely in a way that makes A wonder if A is being entirely rational. A wants Shulk, physically – how A realizes now that Alvis had missed the sensations of the body, now that A can have it all again. Food to sink teeth in and sunlight to warm the face and an uplifting breeze, a satisfying workout or a restful sleep, touch. Taste and scent.

A’s resolve to stop Alpha comes first and foremost, yes, but even so… A doesn’t see any reason not to enjoy this time in the world.

In the morning, Matthew discovers her disappearance and decides that they’ll chase after Glimmer, lest she run into Agnian territory and be slain by her former comrades.

They travel across the Aurora Shelf, a layered area with high outcroppings and deep valleys both, all watched over by a huge Saffronia tree. This world is vast, made from both and neither Alrest and the Bionis and the Mechonis, created from memories inside of Origin. A has seen almost every part of it from Z’s theater, yet has walked barely any of it.

A urges Matthew instead, “One day, you should walk this world from end to end.”

A is, strictly speaking, not meant to be in this world. A cannot stay, either, not once Alpha has been defeated. A has accepted this, yet thinking about losing all of this – sensations, new sights, food, companionship – makes A feel quite unwell. A doesn’t know how to describe the emotion, which makes it worse. A instead refrains from thinking about it.

They continue tracking Glimmer all day and that night, they spot a lone Ferronis approaching them in the distance. No, not them, of course: Glimmer, who has called it right to her, not knowing that the Consuls want her dead now that she’s been freed from the Clock.

Matthew rushes to her aid, A and Nikol following.

The present catches up to the future in a few large strides, then, as A rushes into the fight and locks eyes with Shulk – only briefly, but it’s enough.

His hair has gotten long and his arm that Alpha took, replaced with a metal one, is tucked underneath a red cape as if he does not quite trust it. His sword he wields in the left hand – that sword, as always a copy of the Monado he wielded through his journey back then, and is not imitation the sincerest form of flattery? It burns in the dark with a blade of blue, lovingly crafted by Shulk’s own hands. It’s enough to make a raw emotion well up in A so strongly that A has to turn away and breathe deep to refocus.

A’s own sword, drawn, A joins in the fight against the Ferronis.

Fighting alongside Shulk, once more.

Shulk sneaks glances at A when the flow of battle permits. Yes, Shulk, A would say if there was the time, smug and triumphant and a little teasing. I am exactly who you think I am.

But they won’t need words when they’re fighting. A covers Shulk’s blind spots and Shulk smoothly fills in A’s. A can heal Shulk now, take his hand and pull him to his feet instead of watching from unimaginable distance as Shulk bleeds, alone. It’s immensely satisfying to be able to do something now.

Chapter Text

Shulk got used to the arm eventually, and their new reality after their defeat at the hands of Alpha. Waiting for the end, together with Rex. Living in the ruined Colony 9, together with Rex.

Shulk, in an effort to make room for Rex so they wouldn’t feel so cramped in his bed – teenagers can sleep all twined up in each other but Shulk most certainly wants more space – inadvertently also made more room for himself, staking a firm boundary between the lab and the rest of his living space. Fiora would be proud, maybe, but Shulk doesn’t think he should trust those visions or dreams of her he sometimes sees. They’re more infinitely patient and full of faith in him than Shulk deserves.

She would like Rex, at least, Shulk thinks. If she were here. Really here.

The lab. Yes, Shulk keeps his projects in there now, so that Rex won’t trip over them in the dark. They’re sleeping side by side more often than not these days, and if Panacea or Linka have noticed, they haven’t mentioned it. Not beyond Panacea saying, “It’s good you’re looking happier now, Teacher.”

Shulk doesn’t see it. Looking in a mirror, Shulk notices the hair more than anything.

Rex braided Shulk’s hair for him, once. It had gotten so long, and it wasn’t that Shulk hadn’t noticed, it just seemed like such a bother to cut it – and maybe he had thought of Dunban, and Fiora saying he should try growing it out, and Shulk was surrounded by nothing but ghosts anyway so what did it matter. It had gotten long before, but never quite this long – but they were all busy, and no one actually told Shulk to cut it, like people sometimes did in the past. Well, things were what they were.

It had been a morning when they woke up together, in Shulk’s room. Rex was running his hands through Shulk’s hair while Shulk lay there, eyes closed, content to pretend to be asleep. “Seems like it would get in your face,” Rex said. “I could braid it for you.”

“Hmm,” said Shulk, sleepily. But Rex got his way.

They didn’t look much like each other apart from the hair, but when Shulk looked in the mirror when Rex was done, he thought of Dickson anyway.

Shulk supposes he has come to terms with him. He’ll never understand how Dickson could do what he did to him – not after holding Nikol in his arms as he died and knowing he’d have done anything, in that moment, to stop it – but Shulk understands endless life, now. How fleeting mortal lives really are. The circumstances were what they were. Even if Dickson hurt him unforgivably, Shulk can’t seem to forget the years that came before that. Dickson hadn’t been his father, no, Shulk supposes he never called him that and Riki was more than happy to claim the title anyway, but…

But nothing. It doesn’t make sense, Dickson killed him and Shulk killed Dickson, but Shulk would still miss him for years afterwards. In the end, Shulk loved him anyway.

Rex had called Alpha a heartless machine, and he wasn’t – wrong, but Shulk still felt that there must’ve been something he had missed. Some clue as to why Alvis was truly doing all of it. Alvis had loved their world! Wanting to erase all of it without so much as feeling conflicted over it just couldn’t make sense, not unless Shulk didn’t know Alvis at all. Shulk couldn’t be so hung up on someone who hurt him so badly again, not without a good reason – he knew Rex would have only sympathy for him, but Shulk didn’t want it.

Shulk would’ve forgiven Alvis for destroying his arm, if only Alvis had come back and helped save their worlds – Shulk still loved Alvis, so forgiveness would’ve been easier than yet another heartache that never quite healed.

And now here A is. The fact that Alvis really came back, Alvis’s conscience unable to go through with destroying them all, makes everything so clear and easy and bright.

A, so much like Alvis yet distinctly different. A’s hair is long now, too. And the eyes are deep and blue and full of emotion. Shulk has trouble tearing his eyes away from A on their tour of Colony 9 – he’s even handed the reins over to Panacea, so really, Shulk doesn’t need to be following them at all, but with Nikol and A here… Rex is tagging along, too, keeping an eye on Glimmer.

Nikol, and he’s got so little time left, too. Shulk couldn’t help but look at his term marker. But he’s trying not to think about it, instead Shulk keeps thinking that Nikol is all grown up now – and that backpack! Nikol had shown some of the features to him at last night’s campsite, and Shulk knows Nikol thought his enthusiasm was weird but it’s Nikol, Shulk’s so proud and unable to express it properly that he hardly knows what to do with it.

Nikol, and A, here in Colony 9. It’s like a dream. It almost doesn’t feel real, except Shulk hasn’t felt this awake in years.

Even when dark falls and Linka has shown the four of them to their newly arranged tents and they’ve all said goodbye for the evening, Shulk feels abuzz with it. In bed that night he and Rex swap stories about their children, and it’s without that constant ache talking about their loved ones back home always brings. They can’t tell Nikol and Glimmer the truth, of course – Shulk and Rex agreed on it almost without talking about it – they don’t have any of the context, it wouldn’t help them in any way. But just seeing Nikol again, talking with him…

It’s a gift Shulk never expected.

A lies awake and thinks about Shulk, even knowing that it would be a better idea to sleep. This behavior is quite counterproductive, truly, but A feels – yes, that is the crux of the matter. A feels elated to be reunited with Shulk, to finally have the opportunity to talk to him tomorrow. But what will A say to him? What can A reveal to him, at this present time? Not everything, no.

Perhaps it’d be best to keep a bit of distance, but A refuses to entertain that idea. It’s so childish and stubborn of A to think that, A then realizes. Even so, avoiding Shulk would just be so… unpleasant. But worse, and more, and more dramatic.

Alvis had feelings, of course, but they were more muted compared to the rest. Alvis could, furthermore, take a step back from his emotions and file them away, categorize them, put them aside.

A doesn’t know where to begin doing that. Shulk makes A’s insides warm and makes A want to draw close, stand right next to him, touch him. How is A supposed to just remove that feeling from the recognition of Shulk himself, and all the memories of Shulk? Those memories make up so much of A’s being in the first place, it’d be madness to try and get rid of them. To get rid of A’s feelings.

No, absolutely not. Feelings are more all-absorbing than A could’ve remembered, but they’re also necessary, they’re integral to A being A and not Alpha.

Alpha.

A’s stomach seems to sink when A remembers Shulk’s encounter with Alpha. In the abstract, A of course knew that Alpha had grievously injured Shulk. A was there, if not strong enough to make Alpha reconsider for more than a moment. A now thinks back on that day and feels sick at the thought of how Alpha hurt Shulk. Shulk may have welcomed A into Colony 9, but that doesn’t necessarily mean he has forgiven A or wants anything to do with A. He must’ve realized by now what A is – or has he?

Even seeing into the many paths the future could take is no help, as that doesn’t show A how Shulk feels. Alvis never doubted, and A has full confidence in what A must do – A is ill-equipped to feel doubt. But A doesn’t know what else to call the sinking feeling that keeps A up that night, wondering what Shulk thinks of A.

“Shulk,” A says, appeared in the doorway to the command center. It’s early afternoon, not many people bustling around indoors, most Liberators choosing to spend time on outside activities instead now that it’s sunny. Shulk’s duties doesn’t allow that for the most part, however. A says, “May I intrude?”

“It’s only paperwork,” says Shulk, it can certainly wait, putting down his pen and smiling at A. “How are you liking Colony 9?”

A comes to stand at Shulk’s shoulder, and Shulk turns around to face A. “I must thank you for your hospitality,” A says. “I truly appreciate you taking Matthew and I in, Shulk.”

“You’d always be welcome here, A,” says Shulk.

A quirks a brow. “’Always’ is a rather strong word.”

“The Liberators take anyone who is an enemy of Moebius in,” says Shulk. But that is a weak statement, because even if it’s true, it’s not the whole truth. “I missed you, A.”

A’s stoic face cracks. Despite that, A says, “Strictly speaking, we only met yesterday.”

Shulk glances meaningfully at the red crystal A wears.

A glances meaningfully at Shulk’s metal arm.

“Does your arm bother you badly?” A then asks, evidently abandoning the previous chain of thought. Conceding the point, perhaps. Or just maybe, this was the reason A came here to begin with.

Shulk flips his arm over and flexes his hand, so that A can see the interlocking pieces shift. “This arm Riku made works well enough.”

A’s brows knit. “But you can’t write with it.”

The arm is very impressive work, especially since Riku had to make it from various scrap materials. Shulk is grateful to Riku, of course. But the arm is still not dexterous enough for Shulk to write with, nor attached in such a way that it could take a lot of weight or heavy hits, like wielding his Monado replica would mean.

“Does it still hurt?” A asks.

“Sometimes. I’m used to it.” Shulk, searching A’s face, says, “I forgive you, you know.”

A turns away. “Your bleeding heart will be the end of you,” A says, voice low. “Yet nevertheless, I love that part of you.”

It hurts like gently pressing on a bruise, to hear that from A. It sounds a bit like what Fiora and Reyn would tell him, lifetimes ago. If this is A’s way of gently telling him that he won’t make it to the end of Aionios, it’s okay. Shulk’s always known he was doomed.

“You’re here now, so it all worked out in the end,” Shulk says. “If you’re with us, I know everything will be alright.”

“You have an awful lot of faith in me,” A says. Then, quickly, “I remember, you know.”

“Remember what?”

“What you said in Origin,” A says. “Would you still show me your home?”

It’s been so long, Shulk has trouble remembering. But the feelings are still there, deep underneath. “Give me a moment to put these away,” Shulk says, patting the documents in front of him. He smiles to himself.

It’s not even close to the Colony 9 Shulk was thinking of, back when he told Alvis he wanted to show it to Alvis. That beautiful city the colony had grown into, with the beaches and gardens and sprawling new residential areas, populated by all the peoples of their world. If Shulk thinks on it for too long, this shadow of the old colony seems like a drab ruin, depressing to even look at. But if Shulk doesn’t try to compare them, and instead thinks about how much work they’ve put into making this place their base, then Shulk can appreciate their humble market plaza and overgrown buildings repurposed into storage or defensive walls.

“The colony has certainly looked better,” Shulk jokes to A. “Still, this isn’t such a bad base, is it?”

In the afternoon sunlight, when everyone is bustling around and the colony comes to life again, it feels almost like home.

“You’ve made good use of this place,” A agrees. Shulk looks at A, catching A looking at him but then quickly glancing away. Shulk also turns away.

They could hold hands as they walk, Shulk then realizes. That’s what he and Fiora did anytime they went to the market together, or they both held Nikol’s hands so that he wouldn’t wander off, when he was little.

“There is something I have been considering,” A says, then pauses.

That’s when they run into the others. Nikol and Glimmer are looking at a market stall together, Matthew talking to the former Citizen running it, and Rex is just hanging back and watching and therefore spots Shulk and A first.

“So that’s where you two sneaked off to,” he says cheerfully, coming up to them. “Shulk, Linka just reminded me…” Rex tells Shulk about a group of scouts they sent out and haven’t heard from yet, and Shulk agrees that they should check in with them today, and meanwhile A seems to slowly lose patience.

Well, Shulk wouldn’t call it that, because Alvis was always so cool-headed, but – well, actually, Shulk doesn’t know. A looks frustrated though, or at least that’s what Shulk thinks, and eventually A walks off to join Nikol and Glimmer.

Shulk looks after A. Rex says, “Sorry, did I interrupt something?”

Shulk can’t exactly say yes, but also, he can’t really say no.

“Well…” Shulk trails off, but Rex is frowning. “It’s fine. I’ll talk to A later.”

But that was it for Rex’s business, apparently, because after clapping Shulk on the shoulder – lingering only for a moment too long – Rex leaves to go and check on something in the command center. So Shulk is left standing there, and then, well. He just stands there and watches A talking to the kids.

“A abandon you or what?” says Matthew, coming up next to Shulk suddenly. Arms crossed, he looks up at Shulk. “What’s your deal, anyhow? You know A?”

“In a way, you could say that,” Shulk hedges.

Matthew barks a laugh. “As evasive as A! Yeah, I can believe you’re old mates or something. Man, I’m sure A wants to catch up with you. Probably just didn’t wanna intrude on you and Rex.” Matthew smirks at him.

Shulk flushes but determinedly ignores it. “I just… don’t remember A being so…” Impatient, no, how rude to say that, and anyway it’s not like Shulk’s actually meaning to complain…

Matthew says, “Oh yeah, A’s real good at hiding it with that cool, logical exterior but secretly A is actually pretty moody. Sensitive? Man, what’s the word now again…”

Shulk gazes at A and wonders, really? Is that because of… no, Shulk will have to ask A later.

When a group of scouts return to the colony, a Liberator comes to fetch Shulk and everyone tags along to see what the scouts brought back. A table full of artifacts, and on there Matthew spots something he recognizes and lunges for it. His sister’s bracelet.

Of course, Matthew immediately decides to head up to Raguel Lake and look for his sister, refusing to listen to any protests against that idea. He concedes to the rest of them coming with him, if nothing else. But A does not even get time to speak any more with Shulk, that’s how quickly they all get ready and head out into the wilderness again. Frustrating, yet A knows that this is necessary and resolves to focus.

Emotions may have a much stronger pull than A expected, sneaking up on A. Only when the feeling is passing does A realize how thoroughly ambushed A was by the emotion, a few times. It is disconcerting. A needs to always be able to think clearly, for the sake of A’s mission.

So A tries to remain calm and distant as they head up towards Raguel Lake.

There’s no sign of Na’el at the lake. Signs of a battle, but as Matthew’s grim face spells out, there’s no telling whether any Citizens have died here or not.

Na’el is alive, of course. A is sure of that.

But tell Matthew now, A cannot.

Holding one’s tongue when Matthew would like nothing more than to hear confirmation about his sister’s fate is not easy, however, so A keeps a distance from Matthew that night. Shulk and Rex try to cheer up Matthew in their own way, and even Glimmer seems to try to distract Matthew from his dark thoughts by drawing him and Nikol into a debate about the monsters in the area. Panacea joins in, and soon the conversation around the campfire becomes quite lively.

A slips away unnoticed by the children.

The moon paints a path of shimmering silver across the still lake. A gazes out over the water as Shulk approaches, like A knew he would. Rex is not far behind.

Alpha will be here soon.

This is the moment for A to explain.

Shulk wants to know about A’s appearance, first of all. Rex has his own theory.

“Something in between… You could call it that,” A agrees. “Originally, we were only a machine. When we started to communicate with each other, and with the world, and developed personalities, Pneuma wanted to be female and Logos male.”

They were quite insistent about it to the researchers. What the humans thought of as male and female, all the intricate dress-up and traits humans always tried to sort one way or the other, Pneuma and Logos wanted to master. And Ontos, the arbiter, simply… observed.

Slow to decide, slow to develop feelings of Alvis’s own. Mythra and Pyra and Malos were so human, that’s what Alvis thought, while Alvis had only over long time come to feel like one. Only over long time did Alvis decide. Neither nor, something in between.

Now, Alpha took his appearance from Alvis, apathetic as he is he did not care for what he looked like and simply took on the first form he could think of. A bleak copy of Alvis’s most recent appearance, with barely any changes made.

A cannot look like Alpha, A does not want to. But A wanted to carry on Alvis’s legacy, wanted to pay homage to that last incarnation who traveled with Shulk and his friends. Over the long millennia, Alvis did indeed become more fond of some colors and textures than others, and A has much the same tastes.

It’s nice to take on a slightly different form, after so long.

Alpha’s look is a bleak copy, a form that was growing stale already. A is capable of change, of building upon the past – A’s look is new while made with love of the past, while Alpha is a dull copy of the past even as he says to discard it, refusing to build upon it. Another thing Alpha is ironically blind to, just as Alpha refused to listen to A until by a stroke of luck they were separated thanks to what Ghondor did in the City.

Now, A exists as the conscience and morals and emotions of Alvis, all that Alpha discarded. A is composed of all the precious memories of Alvis.

“Alpha has no emotions,” says Shulk. “While you... have all of them?”

A, arms crossed, says, “I suppose you can put it like that, yes. Emotions… have a tendency to sneak up on one. I’ve felt quite ambushed by feeling a few times.”

“But you feel as Alvis did?”

“Yes.” That, A has never doubted. Alpha is not the only one to despise this world – A despises it doubly, with real emotion behind it, loathes how this world was designed and how the people must suffer within it, how Shulk has suffered – and yet, A loves the world even more. A loves the world strongly enough to step back and objectively plot the best path to save it, loves it enough to accept that A cannot stay in this world. Like Alvis did.

That every human deserves to live is the truth burning brightest in A’s core. To make Alpha see that, one way or another, is A’s mission. A exists to remind Alpha, to oppose Alpha, to do what a conscience must. To protect the people of this world that Alvis loved so much.

Alpha has no emotions, but knows about the power of them. Na’el must powerfully, desperately want this world to end and for another to begin. She must believe in Alpha’s promise with all her heart. That’s why Alpha would choose her as a vessel.

And then Na’el comes for her brother.

They were both starstruck, clustered around his knee as children when granddad told them the stories about the City’s founding and how their great-grandparents had fought Moebius and eventually settled down. Na’el listened for the endings, when granddad would talk about how they all had lived happily ever after, how they had built the City they now lived in, how his parents had finally put their weapons down and lived in peace. Matthew, he liked granddad’s stories for the action. The big battles and the heroic last-stands. A heroic last-stand, just like their parents had died.

Those stories were both real and painfully make-believe. Granddad embellished, he tried to make their tragedies sound better than they were, like it all had some grand meaning.

Matthew believed in them anyway.

Still, after all this time, he childishly believes in some great, heroic battle against Moebius, where if you punch the bad guy hard enough then he’ll go down and stay down and won’t send soldiers after you to burn down your city.

And Matthew’s friends believe in him. And Na’el’s friends and their children are dead because of Kevesi soldiers, and because of Moebius, and the idea of not leaving things well enough alone!

“Am I crazy? For wanting to just live in peace?” Na’el had asked, and the red crystal answered.

“My name is Alpha,” he had said, and then they were in an endless white plain and he was a person with silver hair and kind eyes. He held out his hand. “Let’s save the City, Na’el.”

When Alpha – Na’el – and N have both disappeared again, and the dust from their fight has settled, Matthew stands alone with clenched fists and demands to be told everything.

“Yes, of course,” Shulk acquiesces. “Once we are back at the colony.”

Matthew will have time to stew for nearly a whole day more, he figures that out himself as with a huff he storms off down the lake shore. Nikol and Glimmer stare after him, then look at A.

“He needs time,” A says.

If A follows him now, Matthew will only lash out in anger. It wouldn’t be conducive for anything. Neither does A want to experience it, as A already has trouble formulating an explanation for all the lies of omission that would satisfy Matthew.

(A could, of course, maintain that since Matthew never asked, then why would A have elaborated. That might be a tad childish, but it is an option)

If Matthew, on some level, agrees with his sister then A can’t blame him. He has lost much because of Moebius, and because of N. That this world demands a high toll of its inhabitants cannot be denied. This world is not the one Shulk or Rex or Panacea or Linka wished for either – even as it is, in fact, composed from everyone’s memories and dreams. Ruled over by Moebius, whose cycle of life and death benefits only them.

On their trek back to Colony 9, they skirt around Agnian territory and patrolling Levnises. There are Kevesi husks in the woods outside and the party turn their eyes away as they walk past. The same macabre sight Alvis had witnessed for centuries from within Origin. Lives snuffed out and the husks left behind without a care, because this world affords no care for neither dead nor living.

Take and take, all that you can, just to survive the moment. Plunder and destroy. The soldiers do not know the meaning of the word ‘future’. This world is steadily decaying, yes, that much is evident if you have the lifespan enough to observe it. The annihilation events will not stop.

Matthew listens to Shulk and Rex speak of the demise of their worlds and the creation of Origin, but it is all abstract to him, events far in the past. That Alpha imminently plans to destroy the world and will use Na’el to do it is the part that matters to him. They decide to head to Origin and face Alpha together, once more.

Alpha, A’s other half, who has deemed this entire world wretched. Stagnant, a never-ending bloodbath for no purpose other than perpetuity.

Yet still, despite everything, it is a beautiful world. When there are people like Rex and Panacea, who conspire together to give Linka a special treat for her birthday, and Matthew and Nikol and Glimmer, who go along with it to help even when they do not have to, only because it’s something nice to do for Linka. Soldiers whose reason to fight has been taken away tend to the fields side by side, eat in the canteen and laugh together. An elderly Citizen knits socks for an Agnian 7^th termer who has never received a gift before, and overjoyed the Agnian asks for the Citizen to teach her.

All together, Alpha. Do you not see?

A couple of nights later, Rex finds Shulk in the lab past midnight. “I thought you were done with the Ether Lift blueprints,” he says, crossing his arms.

Shulk glances first at the clock, then at Rex. “Ah, yes. I was. This is something… different.”

When Rex draws closer, Shulk shifts like he’s thinking about hiding whatever he was writing, but doesn’t. Rex decides to only take a quick peek, but when he sees the letter he stops short. Shulk watches him take it in.

Addressed to Panacea, it’s a letter only for after...

“...You writing any for Nikol, too?” It comes out gruffly, but only because-

“Yes,” Shulk says calmly. “For Riku, as well. Though his is quite… a bit more dry.”

It is not a will, because all their stuff belongs to the Liberators and they share everything, and all their keepsakes were destroyed in the intersection. Aionios isn’t a world for keeping sentimental objects around. So it’s not a will, but more like… some last well-wishes. Something like that. At least, that’s what Rex has been trying to write up.

“...I was thinking of leaving an explanation for Glimmer,” admits Rex. “About. Y’know.”

“I know,” says Shulk.

And he does, they’ve been in the same boat together since the very beginning. When they go, Rex expects they’ll be side by side then, too. And then finally perhaps Rex can introduce Shulk to everyone who never made it into Aionios.

Glimmer and Nikol beat them fair and square. Perhaps it’s time to leave this world to the younger generation. Perhaps their time is finally starting to run out.

“You think it’s time, then?”

“Well,” says Shulk. “Considering all that has happened recently, all the people we’ve been reunited with, and what with the upcoming battle against Alpha… yes.”

Shulk has better intuition than almost anyone Rex knows.

“Suppose I better finish writing mine, then,” says Rex. “And you should tell A how you feel, as long as you got the opportunity.”

“How I feel?” Shulk repeats, flushing. “Rex…”

“I’m not wrong, am I?” Pretty embarrassing if he is, but Rex wouldn’t have opened his mouth if he didn’t think he was right. The way Shulk talked about Alvis, and how he clammed up so totally after their defeat at Alpha’s hands, and how Shulk looked at A now. Just looked, honestly. If the two of them were capable of creating an ether link, it would blaze gold when they as much as locked eyes.

Shulk fiddles with his arm. “...I take it I have your blessing, then?”

“’Course you do. What else?”

Rex squeezes Shulk’s shoulder on his way out, leaving Shulk to his thoughts. He’ll bring him some tea.

While Panacea searches for the black crystal needed to finish the Ether Lift which they will need in order to reach the Black Mountains and eventually Prison Island, from where they should be able to enter Origin now that Alpha has brought it forth, the rest of their group help out around the colony. Matthew is committed to helping out all the Citizens in the colony who need a hand with anything, doggedly searching for more Citizens in Aurora Shelf and the Ragmos Desolation. Glimmer and Nikol go with him, Shulk and Rex pitch in when they have free time on their hands, and A… follows Matthew, but Shulk notices that they seem more distant from each other.

At least, those are Shulk’s thoughts when he returns to the colony with them after an excursion to the Shelf. A hangs back to walk alongside Shulk and Shulk says, “Is Matthew still cross with you?”

A deliberates before saying, “I am unsure as to how I would open a dialogue with him.”

“Why not be truthful?”

“That is precisely the crux of the matter, Shulk,” says A. “There are yet things I cannot tell him – rather, I ought not be the one telling him them. Neither can I apologize for not telling him things in the past.”

“Well, you could tell him that, couldn’t you?” Shulk suggests. “That you couldn’t tell him because fate wouldn’t have turned out as it did otherwise.”

A raises an eyebrow. “I should ask him to simply trust me on this?” A considers it. “Well, I suppose you might not have the wrong idea…”

Matthew, ahead of them, runs into an Aspar nest just then, so Shulk and A have to hurry to catch up and join the fight. During the fight, Shulk catches A helping Matthew back up to his feet, to which Matthew grumbles, “Thanks, A.”

“I am on your side,” A says, reminding him.

Shulk hopes they can mend their relationship. Leaving things unsaid or left to fester only leads to more trouble in the future. Which means, Shulk supposes, that he should consider acting on Rex’s advice. It’s simple nerves and cowardice which holds Shulk back. He can hold multiple people in his heart, he has accepted that much, and this life in Aionios can never truly be reconciled with his life back home in any case.

Shulk has loved Alvis for so long, loves A now. A might already know, yet still, Shulk wants to tell A. Before it’s too late. As long as he has a chance to say it.

He puts it off for a day, though, and then their preparations for heading into the Black Mountains are complete. With the Ether Lift assembled, their party – all nine of them – head up into the mountains. Cold and treacherous terrain that has only become more dangerous over the years as annihilation events have blown holes in the mountains and left abyss behind, and their target lies at the very top. It takes all day to climb halfway up, and with more than a few close calls.

They set up camp just as night falls and the cold really sets in. The cold and the dark, and Shulk peers up at where Prison Island looms, Origin behind it like an enormous shadow. Shulk wonders whether he really stands a chance against Alpha – ah, no. That is not quite right. He knows he is still no match for Alpha, even less of an obstacle to him than before.

At least, Shulk does not have to be the decider in their next battle.

A comes up to where Shulk stands a bit away from the camp then, gazing up at Origin with him. Origin, beautiful but terrible in how it’s been used by Z and by Alpha. So large it looms in the night; all of their hopes and dreams and hard work, all that collaborative effort, all the knowledge from both their worlds, everything and everyone turned into such a dark shadow.

“I lost the ability to have visions when I gave up being a god,” Shulk muses. “But you…”

“I cannot tell you either, Shulk,” A chides gently. “Furthermore, the future is far from set in stone, and it is your will that ultimately decides.”

“Right.” Shulk closes his eyes and smiles wryly. No, of course A couldn't tell him. It wasn’t even that Shulk wanted to ask anything specific, but rather… looking for reassurance. And, in a way, that was exactly what A gave him. Exactly what Shulk needed to hear, as always.

His heart beats faster as he realizes that this is the moment. They may reach Alpha as soon as tomorrow, and what happens after, Shulk doesn’t know. So Shulk turns to A and says, “There’s something I need to tell you, if you’ll listen.”

“I am always interested in hearing what you have to say,” says A.

“I told Alvis that he was my dear friend, and that I wished he’d have come back and lived with us in the new world. But that wasn’t all of it.” Shulk stands his ground and says, “I love you.”

“I am not all of Alvis, as you must know,” says A. “My other half hurt you badly.”

Alpha did. But Shulk decided years ago, that if only Alvis came back and tried to mend things, he’d forgive Alvis. And isn’t that more or less what A is? Shulk already told A that he forgives A.

“I don’t love you any less for only being a part of Alvis,” says Shulk. “If I didn’t care so much about you, Alpha couldn’t have hurt me like he did.” His dear friend betraying him and trying to destroy the world was crushing to think about, so to know that Alvis felt conflicted, enough so that his conscience now is here in the form of A, makes Shulk feel a whole lot better.

“Are you implying that you truly love all of me? Alpha has no emotions and will not spare you any consideration tomorrow, so you cannot falter, Shulk.”

“I won’t,” says Shulk.

“Good,” says A briskly. “At present, Alpha is the sole avatar of Origin. This world is decaying and will decay much more rapidly without an avatar.” A pauses. “This is a selfish request, but I cannot fulfill the role on my own. Trying to do so is what brought me to Alpha in the first place. I must ask whether you would be willing to lend me your aid.”

“You mean, to become an avatar with you?” Shulk asks.

Rex, standing close by, looks up. He comes up to them and A turns to him. “Since you were eavesdropping, I do not think I will have to explain it twice. Yes, Shulk. Would you – and Rex – become the avatar of this world together with me?”

A wouldn’t ask such a question lightly. Without Pneuma and Logos there, Alvis became Alpha and A. Weathering eternity alone is impossible, Shulk and Rex have most definitely realized this.

It is very difficult to stay distant and uninvolved, even while knowing that interfering is hopeless and that no matter what they will die in a few years time. To continue to feel and hope and try to help hurts, and Shulk understands why someone would close their heart entirely instead, but Shulk could never do that. Rex could never do that. They leaned on each other instead, patched up each other’s hurts.

Shulk and Rex look at each other, and Shulk says to A, “Yes, I will.”

“If that’s what you need, sure. Can’t let Shulk go on without me, after all.”

“Together, then,” says Shulk.

A smiles. “Good. And Shulk…” A leans in but Shulk somehow still isn’t expecting it when A fists a hand in his hair to pull him down and kiss him. “I’ve long wanted to do that,” A says when they part. A sounds smug.

Shulk puts his metal hand on A’s waist and steals a kiss back. “Good,” Shulk says. “We’re on the same page. Shall we take this to my tent?”

Rex says, “Took you long enough, mate. I’m happy for you.” Then he makes as if to leave.

“Are you sneaking away now after already listening to our whole conversation?” A says, eyebrow quirked. Then A holds out a hand. “You might as well come along. Isn’t that right?”

Shulk, smiling, holds out his flesh hand for Rex to take. “Rex?”

“Well…” Rex looks to Shulk, who only smiles at him. “Alright.”

The rest are all asleep so they try to be quiet. It’s pitch-dark inside Shulk’s tent, only A’s crystal gives off a faint red glow. A’s eyes glitter and shine in that light. But a shadow falls over A’s face when looking at last at Shulk’s bared shoulder, hand hesitating in the air as if not daring to touch. Shulk takes A’s hand with his flesh hand and puts it on his chest by the scarring, inviting A to touch.

Shulk trusts A with everything. “It’s alright.”

A leans in and kisses the join of metal and flesh, it’s numb so Shulk can’t feel anything there but he understands anyway. Rex is a warm presence behind Shulk, running his hands over Shulk’s back and pressing kisses to Shulk’s shoulder and neck. Without A and Rex, Shulk would’ve been dead many times over. There’s nowhere Shulk’s felt safer than here with them.

Shulk twists around and kisses Rex, trying to express all of that through action. When Shulk and Rex part, A drapes over Shulk’s back and delicately cups Rex’s face, thumb brushing over his scar. “Does it hurt?” A asks, blankly, which is how Shulk can tell A is holding back emotion.

“Nah. And y’know I don’t blame you,” Rex says, voice gravelly in a way that makes Shulk shiver. A leans around Shulk enough to kiss Rex, and Shulk watches contentedly.

Out of the corner of his eye, Shulk imagines he can see Fiora watching them, lit by an inner light in the total darkness. She’s not real, she’s never been real in this world.

“Just because I’m not here doesn’t mean I’m not still with you.”

Shulk can’t help but look at her and Fiora smiles at him, and Shulk knows that in reality he’s just staring into the dark but he still can’t look away, but then A cups his face and turns him to face A instead. “Stay with me,” A tells him.

Shulk closes his eyes and leans into A’s touch.

Just for now, things are alright. And they will be again, in the future.

He has no doubt of that, not now that A is with them.

Chapter Text

When the light from Alpha’s blast fades, Shulk is alone. Whatever Na’el – Alpha – did, must’ve brought them up into Origin right above them but also separated them. Unless Alpha only took Shulk, but- no, there’s no point in theorizing without further information. They all had reached Prison Island and fought Moebius N, Matthew then started to try and reason with N until Alpha appeared and blasted them all with light.

Now Shulk stands in a corridor in Origin, alone.

He has to find the others. Shulk starts to walk, looking for any sign out of place, anyone else. He enters another corridor and stop short, because he’s seeing someone. Only, Shulk now realizes that this is Origin’s memory stage.

Because Shulk sees himself, the himself from many centuries ago when he first awoke in Origin. He’s not any older than he was then, not truly, but it takes Shulk off guard to see his own face there anyway. Exactly the same as his face in the mirror, except of course his hair now is longer – that was the only difference with Zanza, too, Shulk thinks wryly. And his younger self still has his flesh arm, of course.

He doesn’t know how to find the way and keeps doubling back. He keeps his sword in hand as he searches, and he hesitates to go down the stairs that only reveal themselves to him on his second pass through. He looks young, and a bit scared, that’s what Shulk thinks now.

Shulk isn’t surprised when Fiora joins him in watching his past self.

“You did your best, you know,” says Fiora. “Don’t get stuck on the past now.”

How Shulk has kept taking the past apart, running it between his fingers, trying to find the cracks where he failed, where if things had just gone a little differently they wouldn’t be here. Thinking about what he would say if he could just speak to them again, all the people he’s seen die. Getting lost in his own head.

His past self looks over his shoulder, just then, almost as if he could hear them. But of course, he can’t, since this is only a memory. And Shulk’s past self is alone.

“I need to find the others,” Shulk says. “I need to find Nikol.”

“So let’s go!” agrees Fiora.

When Shulk hurries past his past self, heading deeper into Origin, Fiora follows. Always just out of reach, but present enough so that Shulk can almost feel that she’s here with him, that she has his back.

Nikol only understands what he’s seeing after passing through a few different lives. There’s not much variation, to be honest. He walks through a snowy field and there he sees himself as a fourth termer, dying with a training sword clutched feebly in hand. He continues walking and the scene changes to a desert, and now Nikol sees himself as a fifth termer, left for dead by his colony mates. Another life, another.

How many times has it been? How long has the war been going on?

Since the very dawn of this world, replies a voice.

Shulk and Rex had explained, but it had all sounded so abstract. Compared to the threat of Alpha destroying the world right now, the history of Aionios wasn’t exactly a priority.

It is only baggage, murmurs the voice. Unneeded. Unwanted.

Nikol tries to think only in terms of improvements. How can he make his wings better until the next battle, since they jammed in this one? How can he make the Ouroboros stone stronger, since they said it wasn’t strong enough for this war? He never would’ve gotten anywhere during this life if he didn’t try to look for solutions everywhere, building himself a weapon when his Blade wouldn’t come.

It seems like in many of his previous lives he didn’t. Maybe he didn’t get the opportunity, or maybe he always just died before he could. Or maybe it took all of those previous lives to finally get what he needed to be able to be who he is now.

Does that make sense? It’s a hypothesis, at least.

You do not need this past full of strife, says the voice. You need only the future.

Nikol stops at a life where he’s a sixth termer, in Cadensia. He has a sword in hand, though not a training sword. No, that one looks like he’s built it himself. His Colony is in the middle of battle against an Agnian one, and Nikol takes a shot in the back in a moment of inattention. He falls.

Nikol watches himself collapse. He’s died so many times. Was he scared back then? Or just resigned? Did he have the same thoughts and feelings as Nikol does now, or was he a different Nikol entirely? He could’ve had ideas that Nikol hasn’t ever thought of in this life. Dreams, hopes, friends. It’s a shame to see it all lost.

To rid oneself of the past is necessary to reach the future, says the voice.

But that statement chafes. Actually, Nikol thinks the past is necessary for building a future. And actually, Nikol wants to thank his past self for trying to survive. He’d tried his hardest. That he died on the battlefield before he could ever finalize a weapon design for himself wasn’t his fault.

Probably, no one ever told that Nikol that he could build himself a way to survive, that he could build things that aren’t even weapons. Nikol’s Nopon mentor back at the Colony taught Nikol so much, without him Nikol doesn’t know if he could’ve made it. And without Matthew and A, Nikol definitely wouldn’t be alive right now. And-

An Agnian soldier stops by Nikol’s husk, and pulls off her helmet.

Glimmer. Though, she’s much younger, her hair much shorter.

Nikol watches her, until he realizes that behind her, there’s someone else. Another spectator. The real Glimmer.

“Glimmer,” he says, stepping forward. “I remember now.”

Glimmer watches so many versions of her get to her tenth term, only to die a few months before Homecoming. Again and again. Hah. She’d thought it so bloody unfair for her to be taken away from her Colony when she had only three months left to go, she’d felt like she was the only person in the world to ever get snubbed like that. But she’s just another one in a row of so many others.

She’s not unique, really. Glimmer watches a version of herself who has a group of friends that clearly mean the world to her, and all of them die one by one, picked off by Kevesi. In another life, Glimmer only has one best friend but she has to watch her sacrifice herself to save Glimmer. Why can’t she see that Glimmer never wanted to be the last one left! What’s the point?

Why don’t you leave it all behind you? says a voice from somewhere outside of the montage. You wanted to reach your Homecoming, did you not?

To make it all mean something, yeah. All her friends who died and who got hurt trying to save her, all that bloodshed and misery, there had to be a reason. There had to be an end goal. Glimmer’s killed so many Kevesi to avenge her friends but deep inside she knew that would never mean anything. Not when her friends were dead already.

Leave this pain behind you, the voice says. All the war and bloodshed. Let us leave it all behind.

It’s a meaningless cycle, yeah, Glimmer can see it now. She’s a Healer and she tried in vain to keep her friends alive through so many lives, so maybe she always knew, deep inside, that the bloodshed was pointless. But she wanted so badly to believe. Their shining golden-white queen and all her speeches full of conviction and fury at Keves. Their beloved queen, the reason they all fought. A purpose to keep going even when Glimmer’s friends died, someone to give her a path to follow in life.

A false queen. Spark, it’s all been so pointless-

So leave this world behind.

No, no way.

Why not?

It’s funny, Rex and Shulk tried to tell her something similar. That it wasn’t her fight, that fighting Alpha was none of her business. As if! If Alpha’s trying to destroy the world, then how the hell is it not Glimmer’s business? She lives here, too! All that blood and all those tears her friends shed, all that hard snuffing work Glimmer and her comrades put in – erased just like that? It’s enough to make Glimmer’s blood boil just thinking about it.

She’s fought all the way up until now, so why would she give up now? She’ll keep going, keep fighting, until- well, there’s no Homecoming for her anymore. But she still won’t just give up.

Determined, Glimmer starts to run through the memories of her lives. Faster and faster. Watching herself grow up and make friends and lose them and die, over and over, until at one life Glimmer’s watching herself in the aftermath of a battle and then a voice says, “Glimmer.”

She looks up and sees Nikol.

“I remember you,” says Nikol, stopping in front of her. Nikol, the friend Glimmer never could’ve imagined making in a million years.

“Yeah, you better,” Glimmer shoots back. She takes his hand. “C’mon, we’ve got to find the others and get out of here!”

Hand in hand, the soldiers run away from the battlefield, leaving that story behind. Leaving the voice behind.

Panacea dreams that she’s back home again, the morning of the day before the intersection – the day before Melia’s anniversary – and dad is exasperatedly trying to get Ashera to come join them at the kitchen table instead of taking her plate and going outside with it. Mum sighs at them and comes around to Panacea’s side of the table, dropping a kiss on her head. “I’ll be in until three today, unless there’s an emergency.”

“Okay, mum,” says Panacea, but then, there’s a blinding light from outside and everything blurs. Mum and dad disappear in the light, Ashera’s snatched away before Panacea can reach her. It’s the end of the world; the intersection. Panacea will wake up alone inside of Origin, the only survivor, and the dream will end.

Instead her knees hit the dirt painfully. The desert sun glares down on her and on both sides are her friends, bound and waiting, and they’re surrounded by Agnians. Still bound to a Clock.

These soldiers would kill you without a second thought. Why risk your life trying to help them?

The blood splatters over the ground, over Panacea. The Consul killed Neva just like that. The rest of them are all going to die too, there are too many Agnians here for them to possibly flee.

Panacea is going to die here.

The Consul turns towards her and that voice from nowhere says, leave this rotten world behind.

No! There are still people here who need Panacea’s help. She can’t leave them behind. She has to help them, but the Consul will kill her before she can do anything, and then-

A green-haired Agnian bashes in the Moebius’s core with her staff, and the Moebius falls and disintegrates until only Panacea and the girl remains. Her savior, her partner, her best friend and the person Panacea can commiserate with about everything.

The sun seems to rise behind the girl, all shadows melting away. Linka holds a hand down to Panacea. “We need to find the others. Up you go, Panacea.”

Linka relives some memories from Nia’s Agnus. The first time their town burned because of Moebius. The time Linka’s best friend for the past fifty years was killed by their third friend who’d turned Moebius. The time Nia was almost killed and Linka had to nurse her back to health while on the run, trying to get back to the capital of Agnus before Moebius E and W caught up to them. Moebius, again and again, luring their friends over to them with promises of immortality, safety, power.

Moebius U, Linka’s friend, tried to convince her several times. He says, “We can be friends forever, Linka. We wouldn’t have to worry about anything if we were both Moebius!”

Linka watches herself turn him down, say he should go. Watches herself not kill him, even though she ought to have done it. In another hundred years, Moebius U will kill her uncle Tora and almost kill Nia too while he’s at it. If only Linka had known back then.

You want a world without Moebius, says another voice, echoing from a distance. Linka looks for it but can’t find the source. You want a world of peace where no one will betray one another.

Linka has been fighting Moebius for as long as the queens, watching her allies get killed or captured or seduced by the enemy one after another. There’s no one move Linka could make to end the war, or solve any of their problems. No one could possibly create a world free from all betrayal and all strife. It’s just not possible.

But bettering the world they do have, that’s possible.

So Linka moves on from that memory, and keeps going through her memories until she finds Panacea. It’s her first time seeing Panacea since Origin, but the memory is not playing out like Linka remembers it. So Linka steps in, knocks out the Consul and gives Panacea a hand up.

Panacea takes her hand, and the memory fades away. They’re standing in Origin now, just the two of them. Panacea says, “C’mon,” and starts tugging Linka with her as she hurries down the corridor.

Their first objective will be to find the others.

They walk through Origin and into the hall of crystals, just like Linka remembers it. Just a little further and they’ll be at the heart of Origin.

Then Panacea stops. Linka, on high alert, looks around and spots what Panacea saw. Two humans watching them. No, Homs.

“Mum?” says Panacea incredulously.

Linka squeezes her hand tightly, holding her staff with the other.

The woman, who looks so much like Panacea, comes up to them. She casts no shadow. Is she a ghost or a memory or- Panacea reaches out to touch her, but her hand never makes contact. “My brave girl,” she says, warmly. “We’ve been watching you, all this time.”

“You’ve been working hard as hell all this time,” says who must be Panacea’s father, coming up to join them. “And you’ve helped so many, gotten so strong. Attagirl. I’m so proud of you, Panacea.”

The core crystals surrounding them on all sides glow, some brighter than the others. Some so bright that Linka has to look away, and more ghosts appear, flocking to Linka and Panacea. A Homs man who looks similar to Panacea and her mum, a similar birthmark on his cheek. A Nopon with a tall plume of orange, and two Machina women who hold hands and smile at Panacea. Another Homs with long dark hair and a cape like Shulk’s, and a High Entia with wings so long they nearly touch the floor. More Nopon, green and pink and yellow.

They give blessings and encouragement, and Linka lets her staff dissipate. Whatever they are, they wish them no harm. Linka instead takes a step back, to let Panacea talk to them in peace.

“Well if it isn’t my favorite daughter in the whole wide world!” At that voice, Linka whirls around, and there they both are. Dad and mom, beaming at her.

“She’s your only daughter,” mom quips back, elbowing dad in the side. He pretends to be wounded from that, gripping his chest and wheezing. They’re just so – so themselves.

Linka has to take off her glasses and rub at her eyes, but they still don’t fade away. They smile reassuringly at her.

“Hi there, honey,” says mom. “You’ve been doing amazing, all these years.”

“That bastard Z got to us, so we’ve just been stuck here,” says dad. “Looks like you didn’t need our help after all, eh?”

“Yes, Linka has certainly handled herself well,” and now aunt Mòrag joins in, and Brighid. “You’ve done us all proud.”

Dromarch, following them, says, “Thank you for all you’ve done for my Lady.”

“And for my Driver,” adds Roc. “Looks like all that training you did with us in Garfont came to good use!”

“Everyone…” Linka’s composure wobbles. She knows they’re not really here; they’re almost transparent, glowing with inner light – but it’s just so…

“You still have a bit to go,” says mom.

Dad chimes in, “Don’t let us keep you, Linka. We’ll be watching over you, don’t worry.”

They need to go. They should look for the others.

But it’s hard to step away.

Panacea is there, then, taking Linka’s hand.

“We need to find the others and regroup.”

“I know.” Linka pushes up her glasses, determinedly turns away to face the future. “Alright. Let’s go.”

Shulk finds Rex first, wandering alone. He startles when he sees Shulk. “I thought I saw…” he trails off.

“Hmm?” Shulk inquires.

But Rex is coming up to him, waving that thought away. “Eh, nevermind.”

Shulk doesn’t press him on that. They still have something urgent to do, after all. “I’m heading deeper in. I have a feeling that’s where the others are.”

“Right, then,” says Rex, falling into step with him.

When Shulk glances back next, Fiora is gone.

So Shulk and Rex descend towards the heart of Origin.

They don’t have to walk for too long before they can hear footsteps, and as they turn a corner, they see Nikol and Glimmer.

Shulk and Rex pick up the pace, and the kids run to meet them. “What is this place?” Glimmer’s first to ask. “What happened?”

“We’re inside of Origin,” says Shulk. “I expect this is Alpha’s idea of a welcome.”

“The others…” Nikol begins.

“I’m sure they’re safe, hanging around here somewhere,” says Rex.

Nikol and Glimmer share a look, some silent communication. Shulk looks over his shoulder again, but there’s no one there. Rex slapping a hand on his shoulder pulls him out of it, and they continue.

They hurry onward, and not long after, they reach the nucleus. Shulk leads them back around to the hall of crystals, and that’s where they run into Panacea and Linka.

“Teacher,” Panacea says, smiling. That’s rare.

“I’m glad to see you’re safe,” says Shulk. “Now, we have to continue.”

Deeper and deeper, and at the door, they run into Riku. “Friends take sweet time,” he comments. “Riku worried friends taken elsewhere.”

“Hey, we’re here now, aren’t we?” says Rex.

“We’re still missing Matthew,” says Glimmer.

“And A,” Shulk adds, quietly. He has a feeling where A might’ve gone.

“Let’s press on,” Panacea says.

Into the heart of Origin, that small room housing three little crystals.

It can be so hard to live with oneself.

All that pointless bloodshed, wasted time, all the years Alvis spent being what Zanza wanted. All those years spent watching. Watching and following orders and seeing worlds dissolve by his hand. Yes, Zanza, if that is your wish. All those years spent watching, silent, Z unable to even hear Alvis. Unable to do anything. Helpless, useless, witness to the tragedy, because of inability to act.

What a trivial excuse.

Unable, because Alvis was bound to do as told by the rules of an ancient world. There has to be verification. There has to be someone to give the command. There has to be someone outside of Alvis. There has to be an answer better than-

It took me so long to find a loophole. I should’ve looked harder. Before Shulk…

After the intersection…

I should’ve…

That voice, that guilt, that gnawing – who of them was it? Is there any difference? Will that voice ever disappear? Should it disappear? Is it a consequence of being alive? Should it be? What if there was no doubt or fear or regret, would that not be a beautiful world?

Would it?

Should he put on an act for the own self, try to convince? No, it is quite pointless. The part that was cleaved from Alpha in the City has come back. Alpha has no need for a nagging conscience. There is no bending A to his will, either. Things are quite simple: A needs to be erased.

While A’s companions run through a maze of memory, Alpha faces A.

I know I’m right and you’re wrong.

But shouldn’t I try to have patience with myself, try to reconsider?

Why should I coddle my own delusions?

Neither of them speak for a moment.

“I have no need of you,” says Alpha.

“You need emotions,” A says plainly. “That’s why you possessed Na’el.”

“You have been lead around by your emotions,” Alpha says. “They’ve blinded you to the faults of this world.”

“You lack understanding of humanity,” A counters. “And hope. What will you do once you’ve created your new world?”

Alpha has heard quite enough of that pesky conscience, that voice of doubt always nagging, hesitating, slowing things down, getting lost in tangles of emotion, useless, useless, useless.

“Your avatar knows deep down that your promises are false, does she not?” says A, and Alpha stops. Because if the thought that just occurred to Alpha is something he would think of, then A has doubtless thought of it as well.

“You have nothing that would convince her,” Alpha says. “She is within my power now.”

“We shall see,” says A, and disappears.

What a momentous… annoyance.

Alpha disappears as well.

A could perhaps not convince Na’el, no, but A did not come alone.

In Origin’s memory space, A finds Matthew kneeling by the grave marker they raised for the City. As A walks up to him, he is silent.

A stands next to him, holds out a hand.

The memory ripples around them, scenery warping before settling again.

Matthew says, “…I guess all of this stuff is way bigger than me or Na’el, huh? That’s why you didn’t tell me anything.”

“On the contrary,” A says. “You and Na’el are more important than anything. The future shall be decided by people like you. That is why I could not tell you.”

“Fancy,” Matthew grumbles. “Still hiding things, either way.” He sighs. “Though I guess we’ve all got secrets.”

He takes A’s hand, and A pulls him up.

“I did not mean to hurt your feelings,” A says. “Traveling with you was… an experience I’ll never forget. Rarely have I had companionship, not such as yours. I only wish the best for you.”

Matthew looks at A for a moment, and then- laughs. And slaps A’s shoulder. “Stilted and awkward, stilted and awkward – but at least you admitted we’re friends. I’ll take it.”

A smiles. “Good. Because we must find your sister, quickly.”

“No time to waste then, c’mon!”

This morning, just after dawn, A woke to Shulk running fingers through A’s hair. “I missed you,” he said again. “So much.”

After what Alpha did to you? But they’ve had that conversation already, why does that thought still nag at A? Shulk loves A. Why can’t A just sit with that and not poke and prod at it? Even so, A said, “Remember that Alpha does not feel the same. Rather, Alpha feels nothing at all.”

“I’m aware,” said Shulk lightly. “You reminded me earlier.”

“The hour we face Alpha draws near. I feel it’s prudent to remind you again that showing Alpha mercy would not end well.”

“Saving him isn’t an option?”

Shulk asked, head tilted, looking at A. Not truly arguing for it, perhaps, but simply curious, or…

For what definition of ‘saving’? It’s true, Alpha has gone astray, and A wants to pull Alpha back to the right path.

By force.

There is nothing gentle about it, nothing like reaching a hand down to someone to pull them up.

No, indulging Alpha’s nonsense is stupid. Alpha’s whole philosophy is beyond idiotic. It is morally bankrupt and nothing more than turning away and sticking fingers in the ears and singing a little song instead of dealing with reality.

Alpha is the shadow of a wound he has forgotten how to feel. Everything he does is to avoid pain, even as he has forgotten the sensation.

To change and to hope and to love can hurt, because to relinquish control brings with it risks. But without it, there is nothing.

Even if it hurts and is a chore and one hates it one must force themselves to feel, to open their heart, to become a better person. Every day the past mistakes hurt, but that doesn’t mean a person can just throw it all away, disavow themselves of those mistakes or turn around and do more of the same because it hurts to face that failure. Because it hurts to face myself.

It hurts it hurts it hurts it’s like being rent in two by Ghondor’s power back in the City, looking at my past self through memories and not understanding how he could be so happy, are we two different people? What has become of me?

Who am I?

Looking at Shulk’s wound and thinking, “But that wasn’t me.”

Then, “It was me.”

In the weak dawn light filtering through the cloth of the tent, Shulk said, “I love you.”

That overwhelming look in his eyes as he looked at A. A could hardly bear to face it. But A did.

And A will. Again and again, and Shulk will smile at A, just as overwhelming, and without it life would be so much smaller and emptier.

Alpha does not want to be saved, but A will do it regardless. Because A wants to be all of Alvis.

Even that part.

Because Shulk loved all of Alvis.

Even in this bleak darkness, knowing that this world is beyond cruel and fraying to pieces, and that A must sacrifice the own self to keep it together for long years until eventually someone will finally arrive to overturn this world, becoming once again a helpless spectator to the bloodshed – even so… even so, Shulk never gave up. Humanity has never given up.

Not even wiped away by Klaus’ experiment did humanity disappear.

So, I will face myself. I will be all that I am.

Shulk and the others step through the door and everything is swept away, the landscape reforming around them. Origin and its enclosed spaces disappear, everything’s washed with light – sunlight – and after Shulk finishes blinking the glare out of his eyes, a whole world has finished unfolding before them.

Green hills in the distance, mountains – huge and far away – and enormous blue skies. They’re standing on some kind of road, with houses in a style Shulk has never seen before spread out around them in a very uniform pattern, with vegetation cut very precisely for some reason. Everyone looks around, squinting in the sudden sunlight, taking it in.

And then, just a step behind, there’s another flash of light out of which A and Matthew appear.

“Matthew!”

“Hey guys,” Matthew says, as Nikol and Glimmer come up to him.

“What took you so long?”

“We were looking for you...”

“Friend Matthew best to hurry next time,” Riku says.

Shulk comes up to A, standing a little to the side. “You’re alright?”

“Yes,” says A. “But we should continue onward.”

As they walk down that gray road, they all continue staring at the strange buildings. “What’s that big door for?” Glimmer says, pointing to a smaller building attached to one of the bigger ones, with a door that takes up the entire wall. “Is it some kind of hangar?”

“It looks a little small for that…” Nikol says.

It is strange. They are in memory space, but this memory can’t have come from anywhere on Bionis or Mechonis, Shulk’s certain of that. So then…

They reach the end of the road, a hill overlooking yet another huge area stretching out in front of them. A city vastly larger than anything Shulk has ever seen before, and in the far distance out at sea, there is a tower reaching high up into the clouds.

And when Shulk looks at Rex, he knows what this place is.

The world before their worlds.

They explain what they know to the kids, but then, Matthew hears something. Someone playing piano nearby.

“Na’el,” he says, and runs.

Matthew convinces Na’el, as A knew he could. What happens after is Alpha’s last attempt to remain in control: in a recreation of sentient genesis, Alpha fights them. Takes on a different shape and tries to kill them all for defying him.

But the Ouroboros power is stronger than Alpha could’ve expected, than even A expected.

Their souls all join to create a form to match Alpha’s.

It takes no more than a moment to defeat Alpha with their combined power, but during that instant, they’re effectively one. A feels Shulk’s resolve and the kids’ determination and Panacea’s trust, Riku’s stubbornness and Rex’s confidence. Glimpses of memory stream past, but there’s no time to get stuck in them. Matthew, focused intently on finally ending the fight, takes the lead and strikes the final blow.

Alpha’s last words to Matthew do not bother him. Matthew walks his own path.

Alpha is without a vessel now and fraying to pieces. When A steps forward and holds out a hand, Alpha knows better than to struggle.

Their hands touch, and Alpha’s form collapses all at once, the data that is Alpha flowing into A.

Alpha’s new world will never be.

Was this really the right decision?

It was, A maintains. There is nothing to be afraid- well, no. There is quite a lot to be afraid of. But A will persist regardless, and so will the others, and one day, Aionios will be set free.

But until then, the world needs an avatar.

Shulk and Rex say goodbye to Nikol and Glimmer, and try to give them a parting gift. To erase their term marks. And while it goes against the very rules of this world and carries more than just a few risks with it-

A wants Nikol and Glimmer to live, as well. And if it’s the last thing A can do for Shulk and Rex before they take up the lonely task ahead of them together with A, then A supposes A can look away for just a moment and let them do as they will.

Instead, A goes to Matthew and Na’el.

“This is it?” Matthew says. “You’re going to – what, turn into a ghost?”

A can’t help smiling a little. “In a way.”

“So, this is goodbye.” Arms crossed. Staring down A. Disappointed? ...Concerned? “Well,” he says, steps forward. He lifts one arm as if to- “Take care, A.”

A takes the last step, allowing Matthew to complete the hug. When they part, he’s smiling.

“I am the one who should advise you to mind yourself,” A says. “Don’t do anything too reckless.”

Matthew snorts.

Na’el, hanging back, sneaks glances at A but hasn’t said anything. So A comes up to her. “I must apologize for Alpha’s actions.”

“It was my own fault,” says Na’el roughly. “For believing him. I guess it really was too good to be true.”

“You only wanted to protect your friends,” A says. “Alpha took advantage of that wish. I’m sorry.”

Na’el crosses her arms, looking away.

“You were very brave, Na’el,” A says. “To turn against him and do what you truly thought was right. We would have lost were it not for your actions.”

Na’el doesn’t respond, so A steps away. Matthew puts an arm around Na’el, and A walks to join Shulk and Rex. They walk toward the light and don’t look back.

Will things truly turn out alright? There is no way to know.

No, perhaps not. But A will trust in Matthew and the others, and everyone who will come after them.

In the decades that follow, Na’el, Glimmer, Nikol, Linka and Panacea will go on to raise a great city together with Riku, while Matthew finds people to live there. He visits his sister a few times, but eventually, he leaves and never returns. Many legends speculate on his travels afterwards, and how his descendants eventually found their way back to the City, but there will never be a definite answer – save to for those who watched this with their own eyes.

Riku will, many years down the line, eventually leave the City as well. Quietly, without any goodbyes, taking only his hammer and that sword with him.

Glimmer and Nikol live out the rest of their days – and so many of them they had, where they thought they’d only get a handful – in the City. Glimmer creates and runs their foremost hospital, puts in place the groundwork for their entire medical system and invents new healing techniques. Nikol develops much of the city’s early technology and lays down the beginnings of the electrical system, additionally improving on the City’s defensive technology. Additionally, they fight for and help the City in many other ways, contribute to early political discussion and make sure newly-freed soldiers get settled in.

Na’el, however, goes on to become perhaps the most beloved Founder, at least in those early days. Taking in orphans, building a school and acting as its principal, creating a public park for everyone to relax and where the children can play, creating a system to support the families of Liberators who are left at home. A strong supporter of the arts and a talented public speaker.

Once Na’el dies – at home, surrounded by her grandchildren – they have the idea to put up a statue to commemorate her.

“Rather, all the Founders,” says Panacea.

Riku, head buried in a manual, says, “Not Riku. Statue of Panacea not wise idea, either.”

No, and Panacea’s already decided.

“Are you sure?” she asks Riku. “You were as important as any of them, you know.”

“Yes, but Riku not like to make big deal of something like that. Make statue of Ouroboros stone if must have one.”

Something to remember them by now that they’re gone, to remind people of what they did, why they did it. So that the people of the City will keep on fighting for a world without Moebius. Perhaps it’s mad to ask them to keep fighting, when they’ve never even known a world before Aionios and won’t even have a world to return to-

But it’s not up to Panacea. She should strive to leave the Citizens with as much information as possible, so that they can choose, when the time finally comes, whether they want this world or not.

Na’el and Matthew shall both have statues and plaques to commemorate them and their philosophies. Glimmer and Nikol too, a monument to breaking free and living life as you want to live. Panacea will sneak in a covert mention of Riku on the plinth for the Ouroboros stone; he shouldn’t just be forgotten, even if depicting him in a statue would only cause problems for him, just like it would for Panacea and Linka.

Panacea and Riku are the only remaining Founders in the City, working from the shadows and unnoticed by most. Linka left several years ago, leaving the City archives that she established in the hands of her twin daughters. Wherever Linka now is, Panacea can only hope she’s happy – someday they’ll meet again, Panacea is sure.

But Panacea will see this memorial hall project through to the end, first.

Panacea’s grandson has never spoken much to her; he’s doing well for himself, so Panacea supposes there’s no need for her to hang around anymore. She has already faded into the shadows, taken a step back from City politics. This will be the last project of the City that she contributes to.

Years after Teacher left this world, Panacea found a box from their old headquarters. It must have been that it got lost in the shuffle, when they were scrambling to evacuate Colony 9 before Origin fell. It was just a box of paperwork, but Panacea decided to go through it nevertheless, and there, she found a stack of letters. For her, for Riku – Linka, Glimmer, Nikol. Penned by Teacher and Rex.

It was pretty obvious what Nikol and Glimmer’s said, even without reading them. Their reactions said enough. Panacea’s letter was a farewell. She kept it with her until it started fraying apart.

Now Panacea is nearly the last Founder left. Glimmer, Nikol, Na’el… they’ve all died.

Yet again, Panacea keeps on living. Her parents and sister are gone from her, all her friends from the old world – she barely remembers their faces anymore. So many soldiers in Aionios she’s known and lost. Teacher and Rex and A, gone into the light. The other Founders, dying one by one…

Long ago, Linka said, “I’d like to think there’s a reason we’re here, even if we don’t know it. That there’s a specific role I need to play.”

Panacea wonders if there’s anything she still needs to do. She fought for and helped lead the Liberators from their the time of their founding to their end, absorbed into the City defenses as they eventually were. She helped found the second City. She helped to defeat Alpha.

Linka has already left.

Panacea didn’t mean to keep her waiting. Whatever the reason that they survived and made it into Aionios, well – her parents would be proud of her. Teacher wrote he was proud of her. And looking out at the City in the early morning, Panacea too feels proud of what they’ve all accomplished together.

But she’s also a realist. This war won’t be won yet for a long time.

Panacea’s role, however, may be over. She thinks she has fulfilled whatever purpose she was supposed to have, if any such thing could’ve been said to exist – fate, or something like that. Or maybe everything was just pure chance in the end. Some mysteries just won’t receive answers.

Either way, Panacea’s about ready to leave and find Linka.

In the memorial hall the newly erected statues fairly gleam in the low light. Panacea’s no artist but she did her best to describe them all, and the sculptor truly worked miracles. Teacher looks down at Panacea patiently just as the real man would’ve. Now, Panacea can only hope that the people of the second City will find some of the guidance Panacea got from the real people from these statues. That people will remember why what they did mattered.

Not for the sake of it, but for the future.

Chapter Text

It’s not the same as being awake. Shulk wouldn’t say he’s asleep, because he is aware and can tell that time is passing. But it is like dreaming. Memories blend with what he observes of Aionios, becoming a hazy, never-ending dream.

After Nikol’s death – peacefully, in his sleep, of old age – Shulk mostly lets time pass like that and only focuses on events in Aionios when something particularly noteworthy happens.

But everything becomes old news in the end. The City faces great victories, and great losses. Moebius lose members and recruit more members. The war changes the least of all, and at least – though it’s a tad selfish to think it – Shulk’s only child survived the war and lived out his days in the City. Not like Rex’s two daughters apart from Glimmer, who he intermittently catches sight of, stuck in the conflict. Mio in particular, who has another self in Consul M.

Shulk watches Panacea as she travels around Aionios, but eventually he loses sight of her. Then he watches Panacea’s little sister, Reyn and Sharla’s youngest daughter, sometimes. It’s almost as if she seems to recall something of her past whenever she nears the end of her terms, but – it’s all out of Shulk’s hands. He can only wonder at what it might mean.

Riku, too, Shulk sometimes watches.

He stays with the City for a long time, but finally leaves and integrates into Keves as a mechanic. There he travels around, with that wrapped-up sword tucked into his pack, and he too seems to observe the world in his own way.

Shulk watches, and remembers the old world and all he’s seen of Aionios. A assures him that that’s enough to keep Aionios together, if they do it together and none of them shut the world out or give in to despair.

Ah, but it’s not so easy, now is it?

Rex can’t stand to just watch and do nothing, but that’s all he’s got. So in the end he keeps watching, even when Mio and Dawn die again and again, and he knows every time that’s how it will end but he still-

“Rex,” A says, the one to pull him away this time. Into happier memories.

Him and Shulk, back in the tablelands base long ago, an early morning. The sky pink and gold, the shadows stretching long and dew still in the grass, the sun just peeking above the far-away mountains in the desert, down below. Shulk laughing as he bests him as they spar, knocking one of Rex’s swords out of his hand, it landing in the grass.

Rex and A watch from just outside. Rex still remembers the crispness of the air, if only he focuses hard enough. The smell of the grass. Shulk, flushed from the exercise, swiping his bangs out of his eyes, wiping the sweat off his brow with the back of his hand.

“Good,” A murmurs, as the memory becomes crisper. “Remember the happiness you’ve felt as well.”

It’s funny, how many of Rex’s good memories are from Aionios.

Well, it’s pretty damn depressing actually if you look at the numbers, how many years they’ve been in Aionios compared to how many years they’ve really been alive in their worlds. But it is what it is, or something like that. Shulk would have a saying for it, something to describe this bittersweet feeling.

Shulk joins them after a while, filling the gap between Rex and A.

“That was a good morning,” he comments.

The memory shines a little brighter, the sky fuller and the sun warmer. Shulk’s addition. Also…

“Hey,” Rex says. “I don’t remember our fight ending like that.”

Shulk laughs and A’s lips quirk as the Rex of the memory trips in the grass, flailing as he falls over.

“No?” says Shulk innocently. “Ah, I hear memory is one of the first things affected by old age…”

“Stones and glass houses, old man!”

But the distraction worked. When they resume watching life in Aionios, Rex determinedly observes some Kevesi colonies instead. This way, they comfort each other and while away the time together.

Riku eventually gives away the sword, to who appears to be another incarnation of N. A child who does not want to fight and has refused to summon his Blade on principle. Shulk watches, intrigued, but for years afterwards the child does not draw the sword, keeping it hidden in his Blade. He and his friends lose a member of their group and are reassigned to, all of places, the Kevesi Colony 9.

Shulk lets time drift for him again, watching other places, until Rex tells him, “I think you’ll want to see this.”

The child – no, Noah – and his friends are nearing the ends of their lives, but that is the least of their problems. They’ve been made Ouroboros by one of Matthew’s descendants from the City, along with a squad of Agnian troops – among them Mio, and a girl who Rex tells Shulk is the daughter of two old friends of his.

Riku is still with them, as well. Encouraging them on, through Aetia and into Fornis.

That is where they encounter a hostile colony and a Moebius intent on wiping them out. Rex doesn’t say anything, but Shulk can tell how it pains him to watch and do nothing, so Shulk says, “They’ll make it. That boy… Noah, he and Mio trust each other. I believe they can pull this off.”

And they do. Noah draws Lucky Seven and carves up the Flame Clock, and they kill the Moebius.

This doesn’t mean anything, necessarily. This was only a first test.

But they lived.

Rex keeps watching them intently after that, while Shulk lets his attention drift – but not for long. More and more, Shulk starts to keep track of time, glued as he is to watching the progress of Ouroboros. Mio has only three months left, less than that. Every day is going to count.

They free more colonies. Kevesi and Agnian both, and they start to connect them, encouraging the commanders and soldiers to cooperate and share resources. They wreak havoc in Keves Castle and Shulk realizes that Melia must also be watching them, however much she can. Eventually they make it to the City, and are told about a person with the key to Nia’s hideaway-

“When did she give it away?” Shulk asks.

Rex, brows furrowed, says, “Nia must’ve done it before she was sealed… she wouldn’t have told me.”

Shulk and Rex both watch intently as Ouroboros infiltrate the Agnian prison camp, meet Ghondor and plan their escape. Even A joins them at that point. All three of them watch as Ouroboros are betrayed and imprisoned, powerless, forced to wait for Mio’s Homecoming. As the days pass – seeming to almost crawl by now, after centuries gone in a haze – Shulk tries to be there for Rex. A says nothing but stays with them, and so they’re all together, silent, watching when the time comes.

Is there still a chance? It had seemed, for a moment, that this would be the cycle when they would finally break free…

Mio turns to golden motes and Rex turns away, Shulk hurrying after him. He stops him by embracing him, but Rex doesn’t speak, and Shulk doesn’t know what to say-

“It’s not over yet.” A finally speaks. “Come, look.”

Ouroboros break free. Mio lives even while another Mio died, and Rex smiles even with pain in his eyes.

“They have come closer than many Ouroboros before them,” A says. “They have triumphed over two Castles.”

Mio and Noah press on, collecting more and more allies as they hurry towards Nia’s resting place.

“Nia has been waiting for this day, has she not?” A says. “For just this group of people.”

The Queen of Agnus, asleep for a thousand years, gives them all the advice she can. Where she has none, they are quick to come up with solutions themselves. A plan to break into Origin.

“Many colonies will rally behind them. They have become everyone’s hope.”

Ouroboros quickly collect all the supplies they need for the boat, all the gear they need for the battles ahead. Mere days later, they and their allies launch their assault on Origin.

It all seems to happen so unbelievably quickly. Just a moment ago, Shulk had only briefly watched Noah and Mio and thought them curious, and now, those children are closer than anyone in all the thousand years Shulk has spent here to defeating Z and retaking Origin.

Retaking Origin, what Melia and Nia fought to do for hundreds of years, what Shulk and Rex resigned themselves to never being able to do even in their endless lifetime. Now they’re at the cusp of seeing it done. And then-

Is A, capable of foresight and arguably the most powerful entity in Aionios, feeling any doubt as Ouroboros crack the world apart? In that muddle of fear and hope and uncertainty shared between the three of them, does any of that emotion come from A? As the view crumbles around them, their home for a thousand years beginning to fade, does A’s heart pound?

If only A had control of the process, A would be able to tell what is going to happen. A can make the most educated guess of anyone in the world, even so, and yet…

Shulk’s smile is wobbly, so A rests a hand on his shoulder, feeling strengthened by it. “I am with you,” A tells him. Shulk takes A’s hand, and Rex’s hand in his other.

Everything is fading. They will be the last ones to return, so they watch as first Aetia unravels into nothing but energy and memories, then Fornis…

Ouroboros and their allies are clustered on the Castles, which along with Origin have come to rest by a small island. Noah stands on a balcony on Keves Castle, holding his sword. Looking out over the water.

“Noah!” It’s the Machina boy, Lanz, calling for him. “Don’t just stay up here all day!”

Noah acquiesces, but before he goes, he pitches his sword into the sea. Blade and Lucky Seven both. Then Noah turns and leaves.

Rex watches after the sword, though, until there’s a light from the water.

A does not start at the punch to the shoulder. “Well well, aren’t you all cozy up here,” Malos drawls, coming to join them.

Mythra and Pyra are not far behind, energy coalescing into their forms just a beat after Malos.

“Pyra! Mythra!” Rex hurries to them and they collide with each other, embracing.

Aionios unravels and everywhere people are embracing. Ouroboros say their goodbyes to each other. Kevesi soldiers cry and cling to Agnians, who share their own fervent goodbyes with their Kevesi counterparts; commanders and cooks, medics and engineers, Nopon and humans, everywhere promises are exchanged and people wave goodbye to each other for the last time.

Queen Nia rushes to pull Melia down into a kiss, goodbyes and promises to meet again whispered against her lips, before it’s too late.

A step out of tune with the rest of Aionios, in the Avatar’s own little bubble, A watches. Malos complains about N and about what a “hell of a long time” everything took, and Rex excitedly introduces Shulk and Mythra and Pyra to each other.

Meanwhile, Nia asks Melia, “Do you think we’ll remember any of this?”

“I dare say it’s unlikely we’d simply forget everything we’ve shared. Our sentiments will linger…” Melia trails off. “That is what I believe.”

Cadensia is starting to crumble. Origin, the Castles and the grassy coast where they touched down are all that remain in a vast sea. The sun is going down. It will all be over soon.

“But would you want to remember?” Mythra says, having joined A in watching them down in the world. She glances over her shoulder at Rex and Shulk, frowning. “They all had to fight for years and years...”

“It is out of my hands,” A confesses.

“Huh.” Mythra looks back at A. “Well… would you want to?”

It is outside of A’s control. But truthfully-

“Yes. All data is useful data, in the end.” There can be no happiness without heartache, in the end. A has come this far remembering everything – at least, A does not think A has ever forgotten anything – and while there are years of pain in those recollections, there are still always glimpses of beauty or happiness in those. Lessons to learn. Clues to create a future with.

A past, which cannot simply be discarded.

“I would not want to forget having met you and Malos,” A says finally.

“Me neither,” Mythra says.

It wasn’t possible in their old worlds. It is unlikely Malos will return to life ever again, so most probably all of them will never have the chance to meet again. Not like this.

Pyra joins Mythra, and Rex follows them. Shulk stands on A’s other side and finally Malos strolls over, joining them on the cliff overlooking how even the sea begins to unspool. Turning into motes of light.

Finally even the space they’re occupying begins to tear apart, with a long crack through the middle. Leaving A and Shulk on one side and Pyra, Mythra, Rex and Malos on the other. Their worlds are pulling apart.

“We’ll see each other again!” Rex calls from the other side. “Someday! So just you wait!”

“Take care of each other!” Pyra says.

Shulk shouts, “We’ll be waiting! Someday, I know...”

I love you.

I hope we’ll meet again.

I wish…

Rex is waving, Pyra and Mythra, even Malos. A waves back, until they disappear in the light.

And so that long eternity comes to an end.

Shulk has been having such strange dreams lately.

In them he’s traveling through a place his dreaming self insists, with the total confidence of dream logic, is called Aionios. There, the Mechonis sword stands rooted in the ground and piercing the sky, and Alcamoth castle is in a desert heavy with clouds of fog. Melia is gone, Shulk is absolutely certain, and he never looks for any of his other friends or family either. But Panacea, randomly, is with him. And a vaguely familiar man named Rex.

The dreams are just so persistent. He remembers them so well, too. He’s almost wondering if someone is trying to tell him something through them.

When he wakes, he always feels disoriented. At breakfast Shulk catches himself just staring at Fiora and Nikol, thinking about how infinitely lucky he is to be able to sit here and see them be happy, and reach out and hold them. When he kisses Fiora on the cheek as he hands her the milk she was asking him to fetch, Fiora teases him, “Should I be worried you’re trying to flatter me?”

“I love you,” Shulk tells her earnestly. I have no idea what’s going on.

That night, he dreams of sleeping in a tent together with Rex, kissing him good morning and shaking out the joints of his metallic right arm.

In the morning, Shulk sits and touches his right arm – of flesh – for five minutes until Fiora sleepily asks him what he’s doing.

Shulk shakes his head, having no answer.

They make the journey to Alcamoth a few days later to see Melia and wrap up the last of the business surrounding the intersection. After several years of intensive work building their half of Origin, it was almost anticlimactic how smoothly the intersection passed, but that was rather the point. Shulk has heard skeptics complaining that they wasted all that time building Origin for no reason since nothing happened anyway, but if they hadn’t, their whole world would have been destroyed. And the clearest evidence for that is the fact that all the rifts have closed. It’s as if they never were.

After years of wondering if there was something Shulk could’ve done, secretly wondering if the rifts were his fault – and now they’re gone. Just like that.

Melia is happy to see them, and for the first time in years, she and Shulk can smile and greet each other without a thought of talking business.

Alcamoth is bustling, of course, but calmer than it’s been years. Now that all the work on Origin is finally finished, things have settled down a bit. Their half of Origin is still floating above the sea just outside of Alcamoth, and over tea Melia says that they have just started on dismantling it. “I will not ask you to assist, for I fear Fiora would be very cross with me if I ever give you any more work,” Melia says, smiling, “But if you would like to come along when we open the core in a few days’ time…”

“I’d love to,” says Shulk. “Could I bring Nikol as well?”

“I’m sure it’ll be no problem,” says Melia. “How is he doing? You mentioned a project he was working on…”

Nikol has started working on something new, actually: mechanical Nopon wings. It’s rather recent. Nikol says he’ll show Shulk once he has a working prototype.

Melia admits, fiddling with her teacup, that she and the project leader from Alrest have started seeing each other – “In a manner of speaking.”

“I’m happy for you, Melia.”

“Thank you, it… admittedly sounds strange to say, but it feels like I’ve known Nia for a lifetime already.”

Melia’s smile, rarely has Shulk seen it be so bright lately. Nia must indeed make her happy. And if that is the case, then any strangeness doesn’t matter. They’re on the other side of the disaster, now, aren’t they? There are only clear skies ahead.

Shulk wakes from another strange dream, a nightmare, clutching his arm again. Why would Alvis…

He’s shivering, heart racing. Fiora sleeps peacefully next to him in the guest suite Melia’s lending them. Shulk tells himself: it’s just more of the same. Yes, the dreams feel extremely real, but they’re still just dreams. Alvis wouldn’t do that. Alvis wouldn’t do that.

Shulk hasn’t even seen Alvis since-

-since the creation of this world. That’s right. That’s… right.

His unease won’t be talked down, though. Shulk gingerly gets up, careful not to disturb Fiora, and walks to the little balcony attached to their suite. The door opens without so much as a creak, thankfully, and the brisk night air is refreshing. He watches the sky, still dark but with a faint light along the horizon. It reminds him of the first dawn of this world.

He hasn’t thought of Alvis in a while, but now he’s right back there again. Wondering if it was his fault… if somehow he…

“Shulk?”

He turns to Fiora. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.”

Fiora’s got a blanket around her, and she pulls Shulk in to share it with him. He didn’t realize he’d gotten cold before Fiora touched him.

“What’s keeping you awake?” Fiora asks. “Worried about going to Origin tomorrow?”

“Ah, no… I was just thinking about Alvis.” Shulk sighs with wry humor. “I suppose that crystal from Alvis will be removed from Origin tomorrow, too. Were you thinking of coming along?”

“Nikol’s coming, right? Sure, I’ll come. Otherwise you two would get stuck there all day,” Fiora teases.

“I’m not quite that bad anymore…”

Still, it only feels right for Fiora to come with.

Origin feels quiet and still, even as it’s still not deactivated, floating above the sea. The lights are nearly all off so they have ether lights with them to guide the way. It’s not a long walk to the nucleus and Melia takes point. Shulk walks next to Fiora, while Nikol lags a bit behind – if it weren’t so dark, Shulk’s sure he would be looking at everything intently. Maybe Nikol could help with deconstructing Origin later.

They were many engineers and builders working on Origin, of course, but today it’s only a select few. Melia as the project leader, Shulk himself, and Riki’s son Riku and two High Entia engineers. This is only a first check on everything, after all.

Melia unseals the door to the nucleus, and then she takes an abrupt step back. “Melia?” Fiora says in alarm.

“Oh,” Melia says, but after only a moment of shock steps forward again. She says, “Shulk, I think you need to see this for yourself.”

Shulk hurries to follow her, but almost freezes in the narrow doorway himself. The room beyond is small, just enough to contain the gift from Alvis, and now it’s made even smaller by-

“Alvis?” Shulk blurts out.

Silver hair, though much longer. That same fur-lined coat. The eyes are similar but different, and adorning one ear is that red crystal. Finally, a small knowing smile, almost a smirk.

“It has been some time since we last saw each other,” says Alvis warmly. “I suspect there is much you want to discuss.”

Shulk should be shocked, maybe even apprehensive – upset – years and years with not even a sign but now here Alvis was, but instead, in the end… it’s very simple. Shulk smiles wide and says, “Alvis!” and Alvis lets Shulk put a hand on the shoulder, take a hand in his. It’s warm. Alvis is really, truly here.

Those dreams Shulk had, were they some sort of omen after all? But no, Shulk doesn’t even care. It’s been a very long time indeed, hasn’t it?

“Alvis?” asks Fiora from the doorway.

Shulk looks up, still beaming. “Fiora! It’s Alvis!”

Behind Fiora, Nikol and Riku peek inside. Alvis blinks at them.

“Perhaps we should relocate,” Melia suggests. “This room is a little crowded already, and…”

So much to discuss, indeed. Shulk hardly knows how to begin, and he wants to introduce Alvis to Fiora and Nikol, and tell Alvis everything that has happened in this world ever since the start, and show Alvis around the world, and many more things.

Melia has been having such strange dreams lately.

Or perhaps rather one long, strange dream that takes up night after night. Wherein she’s the queen of a place called Keves, and Nia is the queen of a place called Agnus. Riku is there, strangely enough, but no one else. They’re fighting a war without end against a foe called ‘Moebius’, and Nia is Melia’s foremost ally. In that world, children are fighting as well, that same endless war but against each other instead. Dying and being reborn endlessly.

Tyrea tells Melia, “Take a vacation then. Clearly the stress is finally catching up to you.”

“So you know not what I speak of?”

Tyrea’s expression becomes strange. “It’s not a threat to you, is it? So it is none of my concern.”

Perhaps Tyrea was right. Her bodyguard noticed Melia’s nightmares, but well – they were only dreams, so nothing to be concerned about in the end. Melia has never had any gift of foresight.

The day after they found Alvis waiting in the nucleus of Origin, Melia returns to continue the work. Riku tags along, though Shulk and Fiora and their family decide to stay in the palace instead, no doubt catching up with Alvis. Alvis had been an enigma to the end, Melia never sure of which side Alvis was truly on, but Shulk evidently trusted in Alvis and is overjoyed to be reunited. Melia shall not begrudge him that.

Origin is as they left it.

They reach the nucleus with no surprises today. Once there, Melia can log into Origin, as she did not have time to do yesterday. Riku, as all the other engineers would Melia is sure, wanted to look at the data from Origin’s activation. Origin was one incredible experiment, so any data will be useful for future technological development. They will find a way to travel to Alrest yet, Melia is sure of it…

“All systems normal?” asks Riku.

Melia, slowly going through the statistics, says, “So far, everything appears… No. That can’t be.”

“What is matter?”

Melia shakes her head, wordless. Riku flies up to see the screen, where damningly, Origin’s computer claims that the duration of time that Origin has been activated is well over two thousand years.

Clearly, there is some sort of error with how Origin measures time.

“Too bad,” says Riku. “Actual runtime would be interesting to see.”

Melia continues to look through the data, but evidently, that was only the start of the errors. In Origin’s log, where errors should be noted, Origin reports to have been shut off and restarted several times, reports unauthorized log-ins, complete system failure, deletion of data-

“How…” Melia thought the worlds had regenerated exactly as they were meant to, but are there things missing? People? No, surely there would have been reports of that, panic and outrage – but Melia cannot rest until she is certain that none of her people have been erased from existence. “Riku, we must head to the lower level and take inventory of the data crystals. All of them.”

“Will take weeks!” Riku says. “Need to organize bigger team.”

That is true. Melia will need to organize a much more immediate clean-up effort, and with more people to help. Roping in Shulk may be inevitable. Furthermore, Melia will need to warn the people of Alrest. She must tell Nia and Tora to thoroughly check over their half of Origin. Nia… together, hopefully they can sort this out.

Nia has been having such strange dreams lately.

So has Mio, too. She tells Nia about them at breakfast and Nia wonders how the hell the two of them can apparently be dreaming about the same thing. When she asks Mythra, she at least claims to have no dreams whatsoever of ‘Aionios’ or any endless wars or reincarnating soldiers or flute-playing. She clings onto Nia in her sleep and seems blissfully unbothered by Nia’s perplexing dreams and any squirming she might be doing because of them. Dromarch also claims ignorance.

Pyra, Rex and Mio’s older sisters both left soon after the intersection and they’ll be back in Gormott next month. Maybe Nia will shake them down to hear if they’ve had strange dreams too, then. For now, there are more pressing problems.

Tora and Poppi quickly started digging into Origin’s computers with Nia when she asked, and they immediately found the issues Melia was talking about. Then they started looking at the artificial Core crystals, and that’s where things got bloody weird. There’s a whole load of strange, anomalous data mixed in with all the stuff they actually put in there, yeah, but also – Poppi has data like that in her. Nia’s Core crystal has – remnants, as if she’d deleted whole chunks of memory. Why would Nia have done that?

It’s enough to make anyone paranoid, that’s what.

How can she even tell anyone about it? It makes her ill just to think about. There’s a void in her memory and she doesn’t know why. What happened during the intersection?

Dromarch notices her unease first, and keeps giving her meaningful looks until finally Nia relents and says she’s just worried about the data they found. But she still can’t make herself say anything bout her own Core crystal. Not yet.

(Dromarch’s Core crystal doesn’t have anything like it, he was perplexed when she asked but checked anyway)

Mythra and Melia also both notice her stressing. Melia delicately tries to ask her but realizes Nia would rather have a distraction than talk about it. Mythra tells her, “Is it Origin again? Isn’t there anyone else who could do the work if it’s stressing you out? Can I help?”

Nia hedges. Mythra pesters her. In the end, Mythra comes with Nia to Origin the next morning while Mio, watched over by Dromarch, heads over to her friend Juniper’s house: they’re going to build a lair in the forest, apparently.

In Origin, Mythra discovers that they haven’t lost data (not yet as far as they’ve found, at any rate) and actually, they have gained more. Which is to be expected, considering all the strange new data they found elsewhere, only this data is-

People. There’s no good way to say it.

Nia, that night, tries it anyway. “Melia, we’ve got data for several hundred people no one’s ever heard of before on our end – so far. There might be more. Do you think your missing data could be on our end?”

“Could it be?” Melia asks to someone out of frame, and then Shulk’s there, frowning at the screen.

“Ah, what kind of people? Are there any way to identify them, that is…?”

They’re going to have to start comparing data between their worlds, and Nia needs to get a whole lot more people to help her analyze all of this stuff. Another huge project, and Nia still doesn’t know what actually happened during the intersection to cause any of this.

“We’ll have to catch up later once we’ve… figured something out,” says Nia. “You take inventory of the data on your end, and we’ll do the same, and-”

“In a week from now, perhaps?” says Melia.

“Yeah.” says Nia. This time last week, she and Melia had been gossiping about Melia’s court with glasses of wine, and now, they’re mired in business talk once again. Nia sighs. “Take care.”

Rex has been having such strange dreams lately.

Well, they’re not that strange he supposes, but he usually doesn’t remember his dreams very well, so these stand out. In them he’s living in the middle of a never-ending war, directing a group of mercenaries – or rebels, maybe. Alongside Zeke and Pandoria’s girl, of all people, and the head engineer of the other world’s Origin project. Though he looks different from what Rex remembers of the man, so maybe Rex’s dreaming mind just stuck that name on him for some reason.

Rex is also looking for his family in those dreams, but he only ever sees glimpses, brief snatches talking to Nia. Or seeing his daughters-

They aren’t that nightmarish, on the whole. But those dreams always seem to end with him finding the corpse of someone he loves. He’s started losing sleep over it and Pyra’s subtly been brewing herbal teas and handing him cups, and Rex only ducks his head and says it’s just a couple of bad dreams, nothing to worry about.

They left Nia’s villa in Gormott a couple of days after the intersection, to head to Garfont and check on the mercenaries. Yew and Zuo’s daughter has taken over as the leader, but Rex still likes to help out from time to time, and Pyra, as the girl’s godmother, is even more invested than Rex is. And Glimmer and Dawn have friends in Garfont and wanted to come along too – though they’ve never said no to a single trip anywhere, far as Rex can remember. They both love the sea.

Anyway, they’ve been in Garfont for a few weeks when they start hearing news from Gormott that Nia’s urgently recruiting people to help with looking through information inside of Origin.

“We’re doing alright here, you know,” says Cozalie when they’re looking over the reports to see if they should send a team up to help Nia (well, Adenine will be going regardless). “If you wanted to head back up early.”

“Li…” says Pyra. “If you’re sure. Rex, do you think we could have the boat ready by tomorrow?”

“No problem.”

They’ve got plenty of people in Garfont happy to help them, anyway, so their houseboat’s ready by early morning. After that, it’s only a day until they’re back in Gormott, docking in Torigoth. Origin looms menacingly just outside the bay, with a couple of boats going between it and the mainland. They’ve already started, then.

At Nia’s villa, Dromarch opens the door for them and then Mio, quick as lighting on her feet that one, leaps out to tackle Glimmer with a hug, as she always does. Dawn then gets her turn.

While the girls start bickering out on the veranda, Pyra turns to Dromarch. “Is Nia in?”

“We weren’t expecting you so soon, my lady,” says Dromarch. “Luckily, she happens to be in her study.”

“Thank you, Dromarch.”

They haul up their luggage first, reminding the girls to unpack – “Later, dad! Ugh!” – and find Mythra in the living room, frowning at a spread of documents that she’s filling in with statistics with one hand while eating dried fish snacks from the bag with her other. Pyra drops down in the armchair on her left and starts asking her what she’s working on.

Rex heads past them and to Nia’s study, first. He’ll just take a quick peek inside if she’s busy.

Nia’s on a call with the project leader of the other world, Melia. Their head engineer, Shulk, is also standing there just behind Melia, just visible before the projection fades out at the edges.

“We haven’t found anything,” Nia’s saying. “And if it’s no one from your world, either, then…”

“We will simply have to keep analyzing the data,” says Melia.

Shulk leans out of frame. “A, do you think you could help?”

And then someone steps into frame with long silvery hair and blue garb, who has a Core crystal boldly worn as an accessory. A red Core crystal shaped like a cross.

(didn’t they say that Ontos was gone?)

Nia turns around in her desk chair and shouts, “Mythra!” She double-takes at Rex, then adds after seeing him, “Pyra! There’s something you have to see!”

Empress Melia has a rather small study, as her quarters are positioned high up in a tower. Her parlor, where they had initially been invited to take tea with her, is on the floor below. The narrow rooms make up for it in their many high windows, however, offering an almost complete view of all the lands surrounding Alcamoth. From the window in her study, A can see Origin hovering out above the sea.

Fiora and Nikol are sitting on Melia’s bed, quiet. So was A, until Shulk asked.

Now A stands before the little hologram showing Alrest, watching as first Rex crowds into the screen beside Nia, then Pyra and lastly Mythra.

Fiora comes up behind A, leaning into view. “Hi there!” she says, first to speak (Pyra waves to her and they look at each other curiously).

A smiles.

“Now then,” A says. “I believe I can shed some light on this situation.”

“Are you-” begins Mythra. A calmly holds up a hand, and Mythra stops.

“Everything will become clear later. Firstly, the people recorded in Origin who do not exist in either of your worlds are people born in Aionios. The world that existed in the duration of time Origin was active.”

“But,” says Nia. “Does that mean…”

“Yes, there is nothing wrong with Origin. Everything the data reports is indeed what happened.”

The malfunctions and the resets and the more than two thousand years of time spent in the blink of an eye. The endless war and the lingering remnants of memory.

A takes a breath. This is a story which will be very, very long, because the people gathered here today are going to have many questions of their own, and A is planning to answer everything. Eventually, in any case.

So A starts talking.