"Sin does not attack every day. It appears whenever we stray too far from Yevon's path, when people build machines too powerful."

"Except when it just shows up randomly."

"Except then."

"And when anyone decides to just try to sail away from the main continent to see if there are any other landmasses on the planet. Which is not actually forbidden by Yevon at all, Sin just apparently hates it for some reason."

"Hmm."

"Sin's goal is not total annihilation of all life on Spira but we don't know what it is. It might in fact be trying to punish development or something for some reason. Mostly."

"...I'll say that it is surprising, if that's how it behaves, that the Al Bhed are still alive. Aren't they all about technology in defiance of Sin? Shouldn't it be stopping by every other week to crush their dreams?"

"For all I know, it is. It's not like anyone knows where their super secret base is, if they have one. Maybe they get away with being too diffuse to target as a group? I'm not sure. It's something I've meant to ask my uncle, if I ever met him."

"Your uncle?"

"My mother's brother, Cid. He is—or was, last I heard—the leader of the Al Bhed."

"I'm sorry does Spira just not have any fictional stories. Could you possibly be more protagonist-coded."

"I... don't have a counter to that."

"...if I unhinge my view of reality a little it does rather seem like you're our protagonist, yes. You don't have any suspiciously shaped birthmarks, do you?"

This prospect cheers Emil significantly. He did not like being the protagonist of his own story; being an implausible side character sounds much better suited.

"...birthmarks? I don't think I have any—is that a—why?"

"In the stories they're a sign of some grand destiny. A crown for a great ruler is particularly popular, or a star for a mage. Once saw a strawberry."

"Well. No, none of that."

There's a knock on the door. "Lord summoner? We are almost at Kilika."

He opens his mouth, pauses, then says, "We'll be out in a minute."

No response.

"That... did not sound like a very cheerful person."

"No. It did not. 

"We should go see the damage, I suppose."

Yep.

(It can't be worse than Oriath. The streets he learned to walk on, choked with corpses and ash, blood streaming through the gutters – nothing could compare. That doesn't mean he doesn't wish he could've done his damned job right for once, killed the god, saved everyone. Next time.)

He follows Zei out.

Kilika Village—or what's left of it—is visible from a distance. Visible enough that they know they didn't win. The village goes well into the woods—most of it in fact is not by the coast, it is not a smart idea to build settlements too close to shore when the local kaiju likes to come by water—but enough of it was by the beach and Sin came with sufficiently little warning that it's not a surprise to see shapes that are distinctly corpses floating in the water amongst the debris.

The silence, out on the deck, is oppressive. No one talks, everyone is barely breathing. The only sounds are the smooth glide of the boat along the water and the distant noises of the crashes of the waves.

He's not going to ruin the mood. It'd feel artificial to mourn with them, but silence he can match.

Zei stands at the bow, back so straight it almost hurts to watch. He's holding his staff , a white-knuckled grip that looks like he's trying to snap it in two.