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The Prophecy

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As Lunafreya walks, she clasps the ring and beseeches the gods to intervene for Nyx.

When he took the ring, he’d saved her again from an unwanted fate. But she wasn’t a fool, his hand with the fire was indeed wielding the magic from the ring. He’d been struggling a few moments before with the terrible fire under the skin, blistering and cracking. Being the Oracle, the gods gave her a vision of his path and the cruel deal the Guardians had made. Nyx had not wavered offering to give his life for the future of this world. Now it's her turn to give her all as she makes her way to Altissia with the ring for Noctis, following the flow of the refugees.

Heat grows in her hand as the power of the gods enters the world and then the ring through her.

Momentarily, she’s distracted as she wonders how the gods will work among the Guardians and former Kings of Lucis. Startling as she realizes she’s lost focus, she renews her prayers for the Glaive bodyguard that risked so much.

The ring is so hot now. It’s burning her hand, indicating the mighty battle in that dimension. Tears flow down her face as skin scorches and she can smell the awful odor of her flesh in contact with the sizzling metal. The burning is a focus point and a sacrifice, allowing her to keep her focus. Her pleading for Nyx’s life intensifies. She doesn’t fear the pain. But she does fear losing him, the single person on Eos that didn’t treat her as breakable – but seemed to respect her courage. 

Unsure of how long she’s walked, she’s oblivious to those around her and the beams of the new day’s sunlight on her face. The current of mourning humanity drags her along and she's channeling the collective pain to the gods as her lips move in silence.

 

Insomnia City Center:

With the breaking of the dawn, Nyx and his traitorous former commander collapse in the ruins of Insomnia. The fire of the ring has almost completely consumed the Glaive and he watches the embers under his crackling skin. Damn it burns, but he’s never felt more alive or at peace. For once he saved her future. The tomorrow his little sister could have had. This time – he could be ‘enough’. Golden sunlight streams across his ashen broken skin and the glow underneath grows exponentially.

A satisfied chuckle escapes his mouth as he concludes, this is definitely the way to go – with a hell of a fight then a moment of serenity to reflect before his life is claimed. He doesn’t regret being the one to trade his life for a chance to be the hero one last time. It’s not like the guardians really cared he only had moments left before he put on the ring. When you’ve got a bullet in the gut, and a courageous crazy determined girl with a destiny about to put on a ring that may kill her – there’s no other option. He likely got a night more of life in the deal and was able to help keep her alive. A redemption of sorts. It’s the best a gutter rat from Galahd could expect.

The last thing he registers is that the finger that the ring had been on – seems to be burning the most now. Circles of black close in on his sight and he lets his consciousness dim to embrace the darkness.

 

Insomnia Evacuation:

Desperation fills her and she collapses to her knees, then to her hands. The one is still clinging to the white hot band. Putting all her remaining energy into her task, she’s unaware of those around her asking if she’s ok and then backing off as a ball of intense light starts to form around her small closed fist. It grows in size until she’s enveloped. Suddenly it retracts in on itself and the world goes white in an explosion of energy that doesn’t harm those around, rather like the effect of a sonic boom.

 

Insomnia City Center:

So very, very tired. He doesn’t want to open his eyes, but a force compels him. An annoyingly bright light overhead stabs at his open eyes. As consciousness returns, it begins to register that every muscle and bone in his body aches and he mentally curses -- he must be in hell. Even parts of him he never knew existed are killing him.

As his eyes adjust, a shimmering visage of the princess appears before him. “Intercession has been made. A miracle – not of magic – has been granted. Rise Nyx Ulrich. The gods have shown you favor today.”

Her image fades before his eyes, but not in his mind. Blinking, it plays over again in his head. A miracle?

He looks at the surrounding rubble and the body of his former commander. Evidently. Now, his life must be on loan, yet again. Damn. How many debts can one man pay?

A new face enters his vision, but it’s not nearly as pretty this time and a hand grasps his. “Nyx, you bastard – had to be the hero again, didn’t you?”

The cross between groan and chuckle hurts, but it’s worth it. When he catches his breath, he responds, “You’re one to speak, Libertus. A few more scars would actually improve your pathetic mug.”

“Such gratitude from the one I’ve been searching through hell and high water for! I thought you said you were gonna meet me outside of Insomnia! But man, talk about scars – you’ll have to look in a mirror," he jests as he hoists his friend to his feet.

“Change of plans," Nyx quips and looks down at his arms and cracks his neck. "More scars? Ah well, chicks dig ‘em.” At least the pain is fading. Then a pause. “Wait, where’s Luna?”

“Oh that. She dismissed me saying something about a destiny and went with those leaving the city.”

The fire of anger fills Nyx, “What? I gave you one little job and you left that danger magnet on her own? Damn it, Libertus!”

“I couldn’t argue with her, man. She's a royal!” Now his friend is indignant.

“Yeah. You just ignore them when you need to! Come on, you dumb ass! We gotta find her!” Nyx is off like a shot, despite his body screaming that he was dead just moments ago.