“Revenge, then? You never liked the actions that I took, nor the relationships that I secured in the court. Nor how I meddled with your intricate webs, ever since we were children.” Scylla exhaled deeply between her teeth, as she gingerly entered coordinates into the teleportation station.

“But that was the way, the game of Allag. Deceit and intrigue in every corner.” The mage grit her teeth, putting in the security code. “A game that should be dead, along with us.”

She came back over and lifted Amon’s chin, looking straight into his eyes with a quiet contempt.

“Syrcus Tower will never rise again.” She spoke with blunt certainty, tracing her finger down from his chin to his chest. “And the last memories of the Allagan empire will die with us, along with all the secrets and potential it may have.”

“No… no…” Amon protested with genuine pained passion in his voice. “You, one of the royal family… maybe the only one left with the ability to restore Allag… how can you just… watch it all fade? Without doing anything to stop it? After all the struggle! All we did to build to ensure a greater future for our people?”

The Elezen wheezed out a half-cough. He was starting to feel a bit chilled. The artificial atmospheric controls of the islands had degraded over the past 5,000 years, and certainly didn’t do a whole lot to keep the place as cozy as it had once been.

His eyes showed him floating land masses of broken decadence. Ruins once majestic, places that he remembered as vibrant and flourishing. That, paired with Scylla’s finality was enough to wrench his soul.

Maybe he couldn’t save himself, but he couldn’t stand to watch the sun set on the last of what existed of their nation.

“M..maybe I didn’t always choose the right way to go about it. But my loyalty… my devotion… was always to the people of Allag! How can you turn your back on everything we were? The works of the technologists that came before us. Your father, even?”

Scylla’s open palm flew across his face, as her anger spilled over upon the mention of her father.

“How DARE you bring my father into this!”

Her vision blurred in rage, as she continued to lay into Amon, free of any composure and restraint.

“You were his favorite student, a son that he never had!” She grabbed Amon’s shirt and shook him violently. “He let you get away with everything! Including his own murder under the reign of your perfected psychopathic Xande!”

“He loved you, Amon – at times it seemed more than even his own blood. And you let him die… for what? A play at power at the old rotting empire’s politics…” She turned aside, shoving him away violently.

“I won’t be having it for this world.”

Scylla looked up at the green signal on the screen, awaiting her command. She gave last words at Amon, hoarse from yelling.

“Clio… my Dad… anyone… who afforded you position or power ended up dead, whether they loved you or not.”

Amon sat, stunned at her outburst, enduring the onslaught of inaccuracies. He was unable to get a word in, even if he’d known what to say. That was, until the end. Until Scylla said her name.

It was his turn to curl his lip upward, though it already felt heated and swollen from the slap he’d received. His words came out as a hiss.

“You… how can you even speak Clio’s name after what you did to her? You betrayed her and assisted in her capture – which led to her execution!” The Elezen balled his fists, though he had no means of displaying the depth of his wrath. His voice was strong, raw and furious, a rare thing for him to display outright.

“You have NO right to berate me for what happened to your father – which was completely out of my hands – when you probably delighted in Clio’s death. Was that just to strike back at me? Was that your game? Clio may have been a traitor to the Empire, but you knew her… you knew her intentions!”

Amon looked the other way, trying to regain his composure.

“I never wished your father ill! He was one of the kindest Allagans I knew. Obviously, that kindness did not pass down the family line.”

It wasn’t working. He was mouthing off now. Seeing that he was still at her mercy, this probably wouldn’t end well… but he didn’t care. His voice oozed with taunting loathing.

“So what are you going to do to me, Princess? Will that really soothe your soul? You best measure your sins well, lest they suffocate you in your sleep.”