The days after the canyon clash brought no peace. If anything, the land groaned heavier with each sunrise.
In Thanalan, jackals once driven by hunger now fought like demons, their bodies swelled with unnatural muscle, their eyes glowing red. Caravans dared not cross the desert, and merchants cursed the skies, saying the sun itself had turned cruel.
In the Shroud, the trees shivered with unease. Wolves prowled in packs twice their size, their howls echoing like mourning bells. Spriggans that had once scattered at a shout now hurled themselves at hunters in suicidal fury. Aerith heard the forest crying every night, her sleep broken by the weight of the elementals' grief.
In Ul'dah, the streets were restless. Monsters brazenly crossed into the city walls by night, striking guards down before melting back into the alleys. Galuf broke more jaws in those nights than he had in years, but even his fists couldn't be everywhere at once.
On the coasts, Limsa Lominsa's ships trembled as Sahagin rose in waves, their scales blackened, their spears stronger than iron. Reks stood on the pier one night and saw the water boil, an entire fishing fleet dragged down in moments by shadows too vast to name.
And in the Twelveswood, Noctis stood on a rise and watched as the horizon itself seemed to breathe. The air shimmered, heavy with corruption. His grip tightened on his spear.
---
Above it all, hidden in the Aetherveil, Sirius's voice was grim.
"The Chaos agent grows bold. It no longer hides its hand. Every monster it touches becomes stronger, faster, more violent. It buffs them with its corruption, turning the land itself into its army."
The Five listened in silence, each in their corner of the world.
Zack broke it first, his tone half a joke, half dead serious. "So what, it's farming EXP?"
Aerith's voice came soft, but pained. "The forest… it won't last like this. If it continues, Gridania will fall."
Galuf snorted. "Then we punch the thing in the face till it stops. Simple."
Noctis's voice was quiet, heavy. "Not simple. If it's giving strength to everything else, then fighting the hordes won't matter. We have to go after the source."
Reks's tone was steady as stone. "Then that's the plan. We hold the line long enough to reach the monster itself. The rest of Eorzea… they'll need to stand with us."
---
And so the world began to rally.
In Ul'dah, Jenlyns called the Gladiators to arms, his voice echoing across the training yard. "Steel must meet corruption! If we falter, the city burns!"
In Gridania, E–Sumi–Yan stood beneath the boughs, his staff raised, the conjurers and white mages around him chanting in unison. Their spells wove barriers to keep the corruption at bay, even as the land itself screamed.
Hamon Holyfist marched at the head of the Pugilists, his old bones shaking but his eyes afire. "Fists break bone, but spirit breaks corruption! Hit harder!"
Ywain led the Lancers, their spears flashing in drills beneath the moonlight. "Pierce the sky! Pierce the corruption! Show them the will of the Twelveswood!"
And Wyrnzoen bellowed across the docks of Limsa, his Marauders roaring as their axes split the salt air. "We stand like the sea! Endless, unbroken!"
---
The kingdoms sent their banners. Ishgardian knights marched shoulder to shoulder with Gridanian hunters. Ul'dahn merchants raised mercenary bands with coin. Lominsan pirates traded their plunder for steel and sailed under the city's flag. Families long quiet stepped into the open, their heirs wielding blades passed down from centuries.
The land itself seemed to brace.
And still, the rumors grew. The people whispered of the five nameless heroes—the Paladin, the White Mage, the Monk, the Dragoon, the Warrior—who had fought the beast in the canyon. Some said they would return when the world was darkest. Others said they had already returned, fighting in secret.
The guildmasters knew the truth.
But they did not reveal it.
---
On the eve of battle, the Five spoke once more through their trinkets.
Zack leaned against a rock, his grin fierce. "Looks like the whole world's putting their chips on the table. Guess we'd better not fold."
Aerith's voice trembled, not with fear but with resolve. "We can't let them fight the source. They'll die if they try."
Galuf snorted. "Then it's our job. Always was. Let the armies keep the horde busy. We'll go after the big ugly."
Noctis twirled his spear, staring at the night sky. "We can't kill every monster. But if we cut off the agent, the rest will fall."
Reks's voice came last, quiet but unshakable. "Then we tell them the plan. They hold the line. We take the monster. Together."
---
The next day dawned red.
The horizon writhed with shadows as hordes of corrupted beasts marched toward the heart of Eorzea. Villages were already burning, their smoke rising into the sky. Armies gathered in the fields, banners snapping in the wind.
The people stood, uniting as they had not in generations. Guilds, kingdoms, families, mercenaries—all ready to fight.
And somewhere beyond that vast tide of corruption, the Chaos agent stirred. Its roar shook the land, and every twisted monster screamed with it, their strength doubling, their speed quickening, their rage unchained.
The world braced itself.
The battle for Eorzea was about to begin.