Alexander's light wavered above Alexandria, his vast wings cracked and glowing as he stood between the kingdom and Bahamut's wrath. Soldiers and the five chosen below braced themselves, daring to believe the Guardian would endure.
Then the sky split open.
A vast, lidless eye appeared above Alexander, veins of crimson fire crawling across its surface. Its pupil was a void, endless and cold, and its gaze suffocated the very air. Even Bahamut's shadow seemed to pale before it. Soldiers cried out as their knees buckled under the weight of its presence, armor clattering against stone. Mothers clutched their children tighter, some collapsing as though the air itself had grown too heavy to breathe.
The eye pulsed once. The light swelling from it grew until it eclipsed the Guardian himself, a burning dawn that drowned the city in crimson. And then it fired.
The beam struck true.
Alexander's form shattered instantly. His radiant wings broke apart into shards of light, scattering like dying stars across the heavens. A blinding detonation followed, a storm of holy fragments colliding with Bahamut's fury.
The aftershock ripped downward into the kingdom. The castle walls burst apart as though made of glass, towers collapsing in thunderous cascades. Streets split wide, fire and smoke consuming homes, marketplaces, and halls. The shockwave hurled soldiers from the battlements, crushed civilians beneath falling stone, and sent hundreds more sprawling unconscious amid the rubble.
When the light faded, silence fell over a broken city. Bodies lay scattered—some still, some writhing in pain, others unmoving save for shallow breaths. Blood mixed with ash in the gutters.
Alexander was gone. And with his fall, the proud kingdom of Alexandria lay shattered—injured, dead, and broken beneath the ruin of its own guardian's demise.
---
Zack staggered to his knees, sword slipping from his hand. "No… no, that's impossible…" His usual grin was gone, his voice raw with disbelief. He reached for his blade, but his fingers trembled too much to grasp it.
Aerith clutched her chest, tears streaking her cheeks as the holy light she had prayed for was snuffed out in an instant. She pressed her staff into the ground as though the act alone would steady her, but her voice cracked. "Alexander…" The word broke into a sob.
Galuf cursed, slamming his fist against broken stone. "Damn it! Not again! How many times must we watch worlds burn?" His old warrior's heart refused to yield, yet his shoulders sagged under the weight of futility.
Reks dragged himself upright, planting his shield though the force had cracked it. His breath came ragged, but his eyes locked on the ruins with grim defiance. "Even a Guardian… wasn't enough?" The words were half a question, half a vow.
Noctis's face was pale, lips tight. He had seen Astrals, seen their power, but this was different. His voice was a whisper, meant for himself alone. "…Even gods can be broken."
---
Around them, Alexandria moaned beneath its wounds. Soldiers pulled themselves from rubble with bloodied hands, calling the names of comrades who would never answer. Civilians crawled out of collapsed stalls and shattered homes, clutching loved ones limp in their arms. A boy dug at a mound of stone until his hands bled, crying out for his sister. A knight, shield arm broken, pushed debris aside with her good hand to drag a crying child into her arms. Hope was thin, fragile, but it had not died.
---
The eye lingered above the devastation, its immense form dominating the heavens. From within its blazing core, a figure appeared—towering, armored, faceless, wreathed in cosmic flame. Its outline was indistinct, but the weight of it pressed into every heart below.
The soldiers felt it like a nightmare breathing down their necks. The civilians felt it like ice water poured through their veins. The Five felt it as though the world itself wanted to crush them into dust.
But no words reached them. The figure did not speak to mortals.
Garland's voice was a private echo, heard only within his own being.
Souls… so many souls, torn from flesh and freed from stone. They return to me, as it was always meant.
The silhouette sharpened in his perception, armored plates glinting faintly with starlight.
Kuja. Well done. The pieces move as I have ordered. Their despair, their deaths—they all feed the design.
Then the eye flared brighter. Garland's will reached outward, probing the threads of the world.
And yet… I sense something. Threads that do not belong. Anomalies.
---
The Five felt the pressure spike. Their trinkets burned faintly against their chests, heat searing into their skin. Zack grit his teeth, trying to rise, but his knees buckled. "Damn it… move!" Aerith covered her mouth to stifle a sob, her prayers withering on her lips. Reks's shield rattled in his hand, nearly slipping from his grip. Galuf spat, forcing himself to his feet despite the trembling of his legs. "If I'm breathing, then I'm fighting!" Noctis's instincts screamed to warp away, but the air itself bound him in place, leaving him to grit his teeth against the invisible weight.
It was as if the eye would pierce every shadow, tear away every veil, and drag them screaming into its sight.
But then, suddenly, the pressure broke.
---
High above, aboard the Aetherveil, Sirius lowered his hand. His cloak swayed as the tension of severed energy vibrated faintly through the ship's hull. He exhaled, his gaze hard.
"Good thing I stopped their energy in time. He almost had them." Sirius's eyes narrowed, fixed on the monstrous eye above the ruins. "And worse… Garland now knows enough to be cautious. He sensed them, even if he could not see."
Below, Garland's irritation rippled through the void.
…Gone? Hmph. They hide themselves well. But even shadows cannot remain unseen forever. I will remember.
The eye dimmed, though its oppressive presence lingered above the ruins like a curse.
---
The city groaned beneath the silence left in the wake of destruction. Fires crackled. The wails of the injured echoed weakly through streets drowned in rubble. Soldiers struggled to rise, battered and broken, their eyes darting skyward with terror at the eye's fading glow.
The Five still stood—shaken, trembling, but alive. Their trinkets dimmed once more, faint threads binding them together through the ruin.
High above, Sirius watched, his eyes steady as he traced those fragile threads. They still shimmered faintly in his loom of fate, glowing like embers refusing to die. He let out a slow breath, one hand tightening at his side.
"This was only the beginning," he murmured. "But if Garland thinks he alone commands the weave, he is mistaken. Next time, I won't just defend—I'll strike."
The words faded into the night, a vow cast into the void.
And far below, among the rubble and ruin, Alexandria's survivors clung to life, unaware that their fates had already become part of a far greater war.