Go ahead. Do your worst...

       Caius–        He had slain Caius by his own blade.

And that crippling guilt lingers once more, poisons him, overcomes him. How can he convince his counterpart otherwise when he has so little handle on his own marred psyche? Yet he cannot surrender to this downfall, this discord– it is too calamitous to be deemed acceptable. Even a mirror of himself taunts him with his failure, this future shall come to pass should he opt to ignore his own efforts to resolve the situation.

Can this sin honestly be forgiven?

Noel is ailed by his own remorse, it is infectious. Encroaching his gorge, there is a lump that remains lodged. Impossible to swallow, it only tightens to clutch his throat. Emotion is paralyzing– how can he be responsible for the death of the very woman who had tasked him with the protection and escort of her younger sibling? He had the utmost loyalty to the Valkyrie. Yet he is taunted with this– this hell?

How often are prophecies false?

       "Yeul wouldn’t want us to kill anyone.”

Obviously the other hunter either hadn't experience that yet, or it had happened so near in his past that the darkness in his heart hadn't had a chance to grow and overcome.

He recalled those few short years that followed. A three way promise between himself and two friends that they would right the world and make everything as it should. However, fate was cruel. Hope was removed from existence, and his namesake along with him. Snow, someone he thought would never give up fighting no matter what, was counting the days until his death by throwing elaborate parties with empty feelings of happiness.

For too long now... Noel had been utterly alone.

After centuries in the shadows, the scene that had played before the both of him was the only source of hope he had scene.. it was the only direction he could take. He had to latch onto it, no matter the circumstance... What other choice did he have?

Continuing to glare at the other, his teeth grit together as tears began falling from his eyes, staining the concrete below them with their sorrow...

Noel’s tone remained cool, yet assertive. Not wanting to escalate the delicate calm temporarily established. There was still a brewing rage to quell within his mirrored self, and any words to follow were required to be delivered with tact. Even with an air of composure presented, he was currently irked by all attempts at proving his validity. The dying breath of the seeress carried the weight of her words, and he was present to retain them.

The only one present.

The pair had been the last two remaining, among ashen sands lain to choke the land of life. And soon she had joined the departed to an inevitable fate— returning to the motherly embrace of Etro in the void beyond.

But her time had been too short.

No one else remained but him and he alone. So what logic could his reflection use against him? There was so little flexibility when relating to the truth.

And he did kill Etro, but had the Historia Crux already ceased from existence? It was a phenomenon he could no longer explain. To his immediate knowledge, the crossroads had been relinquished along with the essence of time. How odd it had been to have something so integral to everyday life be robbed of existence, plunging the world to an eternal state of sterility and decay.

Eventually, Noel supported himself up against the wall, warily observing. The weapon within his grip was no longer brandished in a way to intimidate.

It killed him to witness sorrow maim his being, his soul, his spirit. If anything, it was the utter loss of ambition that troubled him the most. This was not the person he knew himself to be, and it rattled him to discover that he had quite literally lost himself.

Would it be possible at all to alter his destiny? They had done so, he and Serah— but with the meddling of a secondary hand. What if it was only he responsible with tampering to correct? And what if it was paired with the absence of the cursed guardian of eternity?

This was far worse than the future he had originally intended to craft.

But he would still fight for it.

A younger, more optimistic Noel wouldn't have dared thought to show this mirrored being what the Shadow Hunter would. With a flick of the wrist, a gust of air would fly over towards the oracle drive, activating it and allowing the hunter of the past to see the harsh reality of what was Nova Chrysalia.

Images flashed over and over. One possible future played for both of the Noels to witness. There he was, fighting the sister of his former best friend. The second girl he had let die. The scene skipped, Lightning lay dead, and Noel ran open armed towards his lover in a field of flowers. Then silence.

ᴛʜɪʀᴛᴇᴇɴ ᴅᴀʏs ᴏғ ғɪɴᴀʟ ғᴀɴᴛᴀsʏ xɪɪɪ ᴅᴀʏ xɪ: ɢᴏᴅs, ғᴀʟ’ᴄɪᴇ • ᴄᴀɪᴜs ᴀɴᴅ ʏᴇᴜʟ