Author's Note: This story is here to show you how things could have been different (and better) after Agniratha: not just for Gadolt, but for everyone else as well. I've done my best to keep the game world "as-is" by making sure that any changes I make are rooted in information the game already provides, so that those changes (1) seem easy and plausible and (2) don't seem "cheap" in any way. Have I succeeded? You tell me! :D

I will make use of a lot of direct in-game quotes, which are given in italics (or, in the case of this Prologue, in regular text) to make them easily identifiable.

Whatever the future holds, we can never give in.
Not to Zanza… No, not even to our destiny.
~Shulk

Prologue

In the space realm of Bionis, Zanza floated, contemplative. He lifted his hands slightly, so that he could take a closer look at his recently acquired twin blades. In one hand he held Meyneth's Monado, red as the lava in an underground cave; in the other, his own sword gleamed, blue as the sky itself—always seeming to brush up against the ground below while never quite touching it. He moved the swords to form an X shape in front of his face. Earth and sky. Bionis and Mechonis. Forever apart; forever at war.

Eventually growing tired of these thought processes, he lowered the blades again and turned his gaze outward. In the deep black void, a number of lights shone out from among the planets. These were spirit lights, representing the souls of those who had fallen in his service—in service of the war that had led to the elimination of Meyneth. From this distance, they appeared as nothing more than vague greenish spheres, and though they must actually be very far apart, their glows seemed to blend together, until differentiating them from one another would be all but impossible. Zanza did not care to differentiate them. As long as they had served their purpose, that was all that mattered. And what a purpose it had been. It would not be long now. Very soon, the eternal supremacy of Bionis would be ensured.

This realm was his realm; every object in it bended to his will, as was only proper. On this day, however, something was different. He frowned as he looked around. Yes. It was the spirit lights.

Even as he watched, there was a faint flicker.

His frown deepened. The discrepancy had been tiny, momentary—it must be insignificant, a mere fluctuation dictated by forces of chaos—but even so, he had not willed the lights to flicker. Had something happened?

Closing his eyes, he sent his divine vision out of the space realm and into the world of mortals. He cast it backward, to reflect on the battle he had fought a short time ago—but from a different perspective this time, for he was a god and could see all that transpired in his world if he so chose. Looking out as if from a point between the two battling titans, he had a clear view of everything. There was the Mechonis' left arm, moving to block the Bionis' attack; the blow severed the bottom portion of the arm, which fell to the ocean beneath. The Mechonis appeared to draw back, resetting itself, and now Zanza could see its right arm as it made a great sweep through the water, sending a massive wave in the direction of the distant beach. As the wave went on its way, a very small object—an aircraft of sorts—could be seen, safe and sound, flying at a low altitude toward that same piece of land.

Pathetic. He sneered.

The battle raged on; the Mechonis raised its right arm, which was now dripping water, and drove it directly into the Bionis' chest, opening up a large hole. The Bionis fell back a step and readied the final blow; its sword lit up the heavens as it came down, directly on top of the Mechonis' head. Immediately, the Mechonis crumpled, and as various parts of its mechanical body came apart and plummeted into the water, its chest exploded in a blinding flash. All as it had happened before. To be sure, this must be considered a monumental event on the mortal level, but there was nothing in it that would be expected to cause fluctuations in the ether, at least not here, in the space realm….

As he pondered this, a new sound filled his vision into the mortal world. It seemed to be the distant echo of a voice, coming from inside the Mechonis, and it had a very slight metallic quality to it, as well as an edge of urgency:

"I, too, have something that I must do. The final wish entrusted to me by Lady Meyneth."

Zanza clenched his teeth in anger.

"Egil…."