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Vax knows it's coming.
He sees it in Keyleth's eyes. Her beautiful eyes, always the color of summer and life and everything she had fought so hard to protect, now full of desperation and grief.
Of course she would submit. Of course she would fall to her knees before this entity, if there was even a remote possibility of hope.
I do not blame you. He wants that on record, with whoever is listening to his last thoughts in this moment. Probably the Matron. Possibly nothing. Maybe Pike was right, and the gods abandoned them.
Or maybe an all-powerful entity that talks sweeter than Gilmore and has manipulated everyone he has ever touched is simply wrong.
No matter now. He won't see much of anything in a few heartbeats.
He tries to take them in. His family. Those willing to bend heaven and earth to keep him safe, despite his fate.
"Fuck fate," she had seethed, with all the beautiful fury of the true Voice of the Tempest.
I'm sorry, Kiki. He wants to call out to her so badly, but his voice is frozen. Thank you for trying.
"What say you, champion?" The Whispered One purrs. He is expecting full and total surrender.
Vax will never give him the fucking satisfaction.
His last act of rebellion is not against his own future, but against this creature's. He will not own Vax. Nobody is in control of Vax's fate but himself.
He had chosen this path a long time ago. When he saw his sister sprawled dead on a cold floor and screamed her name.
It had been an act of love. His whole fate had been. He understood why no one else could see that, but he sorely wished now, right in this moment, that they could.
Death is just life's mirror. Nothing more, nothing less. It is natural. It can't be fought or bargained with.
He hopes, now, that whatever happens next, they will one day accept this fact.
He sees the Whispered One frown. Hears Keyleth's scream.
He wants to close his eyes and face the end on his own terms. With the dignity, respect, and grace that he knows the Matron does her best to grant every soul he will soon ferry.
He is robbed of all of that as the spell reverberates through his skull. Blinding white agony. The smell of burning ash.
Matron, he prays with his last sane thought. Grant them strength. Ensure this is not their fate too.
His prayer is answered.