Chapter Text
Zanza was within the cathedral, Egil was certain of it. Egil wondered if he was lying in wait, ready to strike. It was likely. He could foresee any event, after all, and any onlooker could tell that Shulk’s friends were preparing to unseat him.
Egil was proud to count himself among that number.
“Zanza!” He shouted. His voice echoed in the dome of the cathedral, vibrating off the walls. “Don’t think you’ve escaped from me!”
Where Zanza had seemed amused last they met, this time he seemed irritated. He scowled at the sight of Egil.
“You,” he spat, “have long outlived what little amusement you could offer me.”
Egil shook his head. “I wouldn’t speak so soon. I have a few tricks up my sleeve yet.”
With a click, the Apocrypha Generator roared to life. The waves fanned forth, enveloping the entire cathedral, and Zanza along with it.
The effect was immediate.
Zanza gasped in pain, hands darting to his skull. He stepped forwards, stance unsteady, caught off balance completely. Egil’s processors thundered. It had worked. The Apocrypha Generator worked. His toils had not all been for nothing- he could weaken Zanza now, when it mattered most.
The effect didn’t last for long, though. Zanza recovered quickly, eyes turned firey and murderous.
He snarled in frustration, striking at Egil with his monado. Egil dodged, darting out of the way and returning the blow with ether of his own. Even as Zanza continued the onslaught, he staggered slightly.
“What have you-“ he snarled, as the expression on his face faltered and warped. “…I… Egil…”
They were two simple words, nearly nothing at all, and yet Egil was swept away entirely by hope.
(X)
Shulk awoke in a flash.
Something was dampening Zanza’s power. It let him inhale, awaken once more, and watch from Zanza’s gold-flecked eyes.
A part of Shulk wondered why he was bothering. There wasn’t anything he could do, considering Zanza’s sheer might. He hardly wanted Zanza to be correct, but there didn’t seem to be any point in the struggle.
What could he do? Shulk had faced impossible problems before, of course. That was his work- he figured out how things worked, built new machines, had even studied the monado itself. He had no idea how to even begin approaching this problem, however. Zanza was all knowing, all seeing, all powerful, and Shulk… had never existed to begin with.
Still, Shulk couldn’t help but watch closely as Egil and Zanza clashed, air taut with tension. He certainly didn’t want Egil to lose. He cared for Egil, his unlikely new friend and companion, and couldn’t bear to see him hurt.
Egil was nearly a match for Zanza thus far, but Zanza was a god, and capable of nearly anything, particularly with both monados. With a jerk of the Bionis the floor shifted, forcing Egil back, where he stumbled and crashed to the ground. Shulk’s heart raced. Watching like this, completely helpless, was nearly unbearable.
As Egil fell, however, Shulk couldn’t help but notice something else fall with him- something that dropped by his side. Zanza didn’t know what the object was, and didn’t particularly care otherwise, but Shulk recognized it with a pang.
It was like stepping onto Valak Mountain for the first time, a jolt of icy cold wind flying into Shulk’s face. He felt the very breath still in his lungs.
Egil had kept his notebook?
It came crashing down onto Shulk, then, a realization both bitter and freeing. Egil had kept it because it- and Shulk- were real. This was the proof. Zanza wouldn’t have bothered to study the Bionis, as its creator and subjugator. Only Shulk would have thought to do so, would have penned observations and theories and thoughts. Those were his ideas, his words, his very existence contained in the notebook- and Egil had safekept them for him.
Only Shulk would have spared Egil. Zanza would not have. He wouldn’t have befriended Egil. That was all Shulk.
Shulk couldn’t see him, but he could hear Alvis, as clearly as though he was standing just beside him.
“Do you see now, Shulk?”
Shulk nodded.
“I might have died that day on Valak Mountain, but now, I have a second chance.” He said, words coming to him easily. “It doesn’t really matter why or how. I won’t waste it.”
He couldn’t see Alvis, per se, but Shulk knew somehow that Alvis was smiling. It was in that subtle, mysterious way of his, but gratifying all the same.
He’d done it.
The light enveloped him, warm and welcoming. His vision cut out entirely, along with his hearing and sense of touch. Shulk bathed in the sensation, finally free at last.
He really was real.
“Shulk? Shulk!”
Shulk blinked. Now that he had come to, he recognized his place in his own body again. Yet, it was different, now. He was garbed in white and gold- surely Zanza’s doing- and he still hovered slightly off the ground. Shulk inhaled.
He had taken his body back, yes, but Zanza was still there. Shulk had taken over for both of them.
Zanza’s powers were incredible, nearly overwhelming. Shulk took a few unsteady breaths, trying to steady himself as he drank it all in. He could sense the life around him, feel the Bionis beneath him as though it were an extension of himself. If he concentrated, Shulk was certain he could move it.
It was a terrifying sensation, all things considered.
Shulk could sense Egil nearby, tentatively looking up at him. He smiled, as much as he was able.
“It’s me, Egil.” He said simply. The worry on Egil’s face faded immediately.
“Shulk,” he said. Shulk nodded.
He could see everything, after all, sensing it like it was laid plainly before him. He could watch the vicious duel between Zanza’s disciples and his friends, the blows traded and the wounds sustained.
“I’ll be back.” He said. “I have to help them, first.”
It was all too horrifyingly easy, teleporting down to the lower parts of Prison Island. Shulk had manifested in the middle of a vicious battle, yet none of it troubled him. The blows and spells deflected from him without even a conscious thought.
At his presence, however, the battlefield turned silent. There was a chorus of gasps from Shulk’s friends, and a satisfied smirk from Dickson and Lorithia both.
Shulk took a breath.
“Dickson, Lorithia,” he said, “This is your final chance. Leave in peace, or I will strike you down.”
Shulk didn’t expect them to accept his offer. He only knew that he had to at least try, that there was always a chance, no matter how slight, that his request for peace might be met by them.
That was how it had worked with Egil, hadn’t it? Even when Shulk had doubted himself, even when Egil’s own family had proclaimed him beyond saving, Shulk had still tried. He’d always attempted, always insisted, always offered his hand in case it might work.
It didn’t work this time, though.
“Lord Zanza?” Lorithia asked, baffled. Dickson shook his head.
“No.” He said, eyes knowing.
“It’s just me,” Shulk said, the best explanation he could offer. Dickson nodded.
He saw Lorithia’s attack before she even made the move. Shulk absorbed the ether energy, directing it right back at her. It knocked her backwards with a loud cry, and Melia and some of the others pursued. It wouldn’t take much effort to finish her off, if she chose to keep fighting. As unlikely as it was, Shulk wanted to leave her one last chance to surrender.
Dickson wasn’t so foolish. He shook his head, snorting.
“You’d better give it to me as good as you got, kid.” He said. “Understand?”
“I do.” Shulk said. He looked down, though, eyes landed squarely on Prison Island’s hewn stone. He studied every crack and stain.
Why was this still so painful?
He looked up, however, before Dickson could tell him to raise his head or some such. He would meet his fate eye-to-eye.
Dickson smiled before the blast struck his chest. It looked something like the days when he’d patted Shulk on the back and congratulated him on his research. It looked something like pride.
Shulk came over to where Dickson’s body had come to lay on the pavement, unsure of what to do next. His other friends had given him wide berth, eyes still warily trained on Lorithia. Shulk leaned closer to the ground, not quite crouching down, as Dickson wheezed.
“You got him good, huh?” Dickson asked, gesturing to Shulk. He had to be referring to Zanza, but…
“Not just him.” Shulk said truthfully. Dickson shunted his face to the side.
“Yeah, yeah. I know.” He coughed. Shulk was suddenly overcome with an urge, a fear, something lying dormant in the back of his mind.
“Dickson, did you-“
“Kid?” Dickson interrupted suddenly, eyes fallen back on Shulk. “Quit asking so many questions. It’ll be the death of you.”
A laugh pushed past Shulk’s lips, humorless and strange. He didn’t know what any of this meant, or how to feel. But he couldn’t accept. He was a scientist. That was how he’d been raised.
“I won’t.” He said, truthful.
Dickson closed his eyes. “Thought you’d say that.”
He didn’t open them again.
Shulk rose back to his feet unsteadily. Were the wind stronger, he might have toppled entirely. He felt strangely weightless.
“Shulk?” He heard Reyn in the distance- and Dunban, too.
“Are you alright?”
Shulk opened his mouth to respond, but couldn’t, not with how his body seized. He lurched forwards, doubling over. It was just like the pain before destroying the Apocrypha Generator.
Back then, of course, he hadn’t been able to place the sensation. It was a strange anomaly, too similar to what Dunban went through. Now, however, he recognized it as the clash between Zanza and the generator’s opposing waves, each fighting to seize his body.
Zanza was weakened, but he was still powerful. Shulk had let his guard down. He winced, trying to swallow down the uncomfortable feeling. He heard the footsteps of his friends approaching, fraught with worry.
Shulk held up his hand, warning them away.
“Stay back!” Shulk shouted. “I can’t- control it-“
It was like being knocked to the ground. Shulk panted, the wind knocked from his lungs, and he felt a jerk as his body was ripped from where he stood. Before he could properly realize where he’d been transported to, his vision went dark.
(X)
Shulk had promised to return.
That had been Shulk, Egil was certain of it. Perhaps it was foolhardy of him to trust anything, after the second possession of this kind he had witnessed, but Egil was prepared to face that fact. He was a fool, wholeheartedly.
There was little chance Zanza could have mimicked Shulk so closely, so comfortably. Egil knew well the sensation of Zanza’s presence- that thin air of discomfort, like missing a step on a staircase. He’d felt it in Alcamoth, on Valak Mountain, but not when Shulk had spoken to him just now.
That had felt more like familiarity, more like comfort, more like the first sip of water on a particularly sweltering day. It had been Shulk. Egil had no choice but to believe his feelings.
So he waited. He trusted.
In time, he heard a crash outside, and the Apocrypha Generator surged in reply. Judging by the output, it had increased operations to match an extraordinary degree of input. It was so large, in fact, that Egil was nearly certain his optical processors were in error. This amount of clashing ether energy was enough to kill Shulk outright.
It had to be Zanza. Egil bolted for the cathedral door, generator in tow. That had to be his aim- overwhelming Shulk or the generator both, utilizing Shulk’s adverse response to the clashing energy to force him to succumb, if not killing him outright. If Egil could come closer, maybe the generator’s effects on Zanza would be more pronounced. Maybe he could quiet the tyrant enough for Shulk to regain focus and force him back.
Just outside of the cathedral, Egil’s head swung wildly as he scanned the environment. Where could they possibly have gone? Were Shulk and Zanza still further down, Shulk’s friends would have handled the situation, but that clearly wasn’t the case. The heat of the generator indicated that the interference was close, but where?
As Egil scanned his surroundings, met with the bridge beside him, he followed it upwards with a jolt to his core processor.
Naturally, with the sheer amount of Shulk’s allies and the fading relevance of his own, Zanza would flee to the most remote location- the bell tower.
Egil sprinted across the bridge, eyes trained upwards to where he could make out a faint silhouette at the top.
This time, he would succeed. His decades of planning would not go to waste. For himself, for Arglas, and for Shulk, he would stop Zanza’s tyranny once and for all.
(X)
It was like wrestling.
Shulk had never been one for wrestling, of course, but Reyn had, and he was prone to tackling Shulk every once in awhile when they were still in school. He’d since grown out of the habit, but Shulk still remembered the feeling.
This was far more brutal, however. Shulk could feel the sting of teeth and nails gnawing at his skin, blows from fists and knees aimed at every soft part of his body. He thrashed in turn, trying desperately to pull Zanza off of him, to catch his breath.
“You’re nothing,” Zanza hissed, slamming Shulk into the ground. “A mere accident of fate. It’s useless to resist. Just give up!”
“No!” Shulk managed to grind out, even as his lungs strained. “I’ll keep fighting for as long as I can. I won’t just lie down and let you win!”
“You’re just like him,” Zanza snarled, “Stupid, presumptuous mortals. I would have offered you a place at my side, you know. You could have been my disciple.”
“Never!” Shulk caught the elbow aimed at his face, snarling. “I would never join you!”
“Of course not.” Zanza’s smile was thin, sickly sweet like honey. “I’ll rid myself of you, and that hunk of scrap metal, too. Your struggles will amount to nothing. Why do you even bother?”
Even as Shulk continued to fight him, he began to think. Zanza’s words struck dissonant in his ears- not for their intent, to taunt him, but because they felt wrong.
If they were separate it was possible for Zanza to kill him- but he hadn’t. Dickson had tried, with that bullet to his chest, but here Shulk had remained, as much a part of his body as the parasite fighting him now.
Why? Why was he still here? Why was Zanza attempting to subjugate him, rather than to simply be rid of him?
Shulk inhaled sharply. Of course. It was all so obvious, in retrospect. Zanza couldn’t eliminate him. When Shulk had been in control, he’d enjoyed all the same might. Shulk was just as powerful as Zanza was, somehow. Maybe in residing within Shulk all these years, he’d left a part of himself behind. Maybe Shulk had always had this potential, and that was why Zanza had chosen him in the first place.
Whatever the reason, it didn’t matter. Shulk understood at last. All he needed to do was focus, hone in on his own power, and then-
When Shulk opened his eyes next, he was standing upright. His skin buzzed with electricity, with heat, with collision and separation. There were two bodies now where there had been one, though Zanza remained still on the floor.
“Shulk!” He heard Egil call. Shulk glanced over briefly, with a smile, if only just to demonstrate that it was him and he was alright. He turned back soon, however, determination clear in his eyes.
In his hand laid the proof of his realization- his monado, a dusty blue and glowing powerfully.
“Where did you-“ Zanza demanded, stricken. “That’s impossible!”
Shulk raised the sword. It felt right, the heft and weight suiting him better than even the monado ever had. It felt like an extension of himself, as easily wielded as one of his limbs.
He brought the blade down, stabbing into Zanza’s abdomen with all of his heft. It was enough. Zanza’s booming voice quieted, free-falling until it was only human.
“So this is the death of a god,” he said, “my very world, fading…”
It was he who faded, ultimately, nothing more than light rays in the quickly fading day. Shulk felt the smile on his lips more than he intended it, knees suddenly buckling.
He was so tired.
(X)
“Shulk!”
It was the second time Egil had called for him today, though this time, he received no response. Shulk’s body, still garbed in Zanza’s strange clothing, collapsed to the ground. He only seemed smaller bereft of Zanza, without his infernal grin and booming voice. Shulk seemed almost too fragile to touch like this, slumped against the jet-black rocks.
Egil dropped the Apocrypha Generator and took to his knees, reaching a gentle hand forwards.
“Open your eyes,” he said. It was a scene all too familiar- too much like his mother, like Lady Meyneth, like countless deaths witnessed in a mad god’s rampage.
Egil wouldn’t lose yet another loved one to Zanza. He couldn’t.
“Shulk-“ Egil was bold enough now to reach out fully, fastening his hands around Shulk’s shoulders. He pulled Shulk nearer to him, seized with terror as his head hung limply, swaying with the movement.
“Please,” Egil said, too desperate for pride. “Do not permit his victory. You must live, Shulk.”
Shulk couldn’t die, not when he had been so instrumental to saving both their worlds. It was to his credit that the Bionis and Mechonis still stood, that Zanza and his disciples laid defeated. Egil shuddered at the very notion. That was a price too high to pay, too unfair to even think of.
It seemed ironic, now. Egil had achieved his goal at last- Zanza was dead, and the Mechonis and his people safe at last. Yet, all he cared for was the small homs boy Zanza had used as a vessel. He’d imagined so many times how satisfied he would feel in this moment, but all he could feel was panic and dread.
Egil leaned in, resting his forehead against Shulk’s. “This is no victory without you, Shulk. I wish for nothing more than to live in peace with you.”
Egil hardly knew if his pleading made a difference. He hoped so, hoped that nothing he had done was in vain, but ultimately couldn’t possibly care either way as Shulk inhaled, and color began to return to his face.
“Egil…” Shulk stirred, slightly, and Egil could see a glimpse of blue from underneath his eyelid. “I heard your voice.”
Egil laughed, breathy and humorless. So it had worked, after all.
He pulled Shulk to his chest, enveloping him in a hug. “I thought I’d lost you.”
Shulk’s voice was weak, yet insistent. “I promised… I wouldn’t give up.”
Egil released him, suddenly anxious that the pressure might harm Shulk further. “Just breathe, Shulk.”
Shulk did, though with a small laugh- more an exhale of breath, than anything, but the smile on his face was encouraging.
“I can’t rest until this is all over. We don’t truly have peace yet.” He said. “You still haven’t apologized to me, remember?”
Egil was overcome at the teasing reminder, at the sight of the spark in Shulk’s eyes- like the sky above them both, like the gleam of the ether crystals Shulk had sketched in his notes.
“Forgive me, Shulk,” he breathed, before he had no choice but to kiss him.
Shulk made a small noise of surprise, but was ultimately more than willing. He circled his arms around Egil’s neck, meeting his lips gladly.
It was a brief, chaste thing, but that was alright. There would be time for more later. They had nothing but time now, with Zanza defeated and the peoples of both worlds in harmony.
Shulk seemed to be thinking along the same lines.
“I was thinking,” he said, “that we should go to space next.”
Egil thought of Arglas, and the boundless sea, and the world Lady Meyneth had entrusted to them, and the curiosity shining in Shulk’s blue eyes.
“That,” he said, “sounds perfect.”