I don't really know why I did this: just a random retelling of the final few bosses (needless to say, it contains spoilers. Look away NOW!) from the perspective of Barthendelus.

We were on the brink: just mere moments from the realization of our greatest dream. Her return.
But these l'Cie were troublesome, insects buzzing. The best laid plans of the fal'Cie would not fail solely because of our servants, our slaves. They would do as we bade, or become Cie'th, cursed with eternity. Wishing for death, like the one they dared not slay. Orphan.

I felt the deepest blow strike me, choking the last few specks of my power. But I would not fade. Though my body was weak, my mind was strong, far stronger, and it was enough to bring the Means to the air. I dissolved, falling, a puddle of silver spreading. That was me: but only one aspect of me.

Come, Menrva!

My faithful silver owl soared, spiralling down into my silver self. Pitiful l'Cie. You have no choice but to fulfil your Focus.

I was with Orphan. Our minds were merged; touching, irrevocably wound. We were one. And these l'Cie…these l'Cie were but tools, they had no chance against my mind tied with Orphan's.

I had never experienced such power, none even comparable to being one with the source of Eden. And, merged with Orphan, I struck, all my power into one last hope. The l'Cie resisted and, alas, I fell.

But I would not die. I was the Sovereign fal'Cie. I was Barthendelus: Primarch of Cocoon, one with Orphan, the Sovereign. Let me live!

I was little more than an observer for the rest of my life. Reduced from my faces, I was but a mind, a spirit, watching Orphan as the l'Cie fought him.

The power of Eden fell to the hand of the l'Cie. A victory: for me. Cocoon would fall and She…She would return.

The Maker.

I was but a brand: a burnt, silver imprint on Orphan's Cradle¸ a brand, a symbol almost of the Focus of a fal'Cie. She would return.

I could feel the despair of the l'Cie, but I could also feel the shell beneath me. Cocoon was falling.

The sparks of light emanating from matter grew in intensity, forming clusters, faces even, miniature toy fal'Cie created at the whim of the returning Maker.

"Maker" the ghost of a whisper escaped my insubstantial lips. A sheet of white rose, the imminent sacrifice of Cocoon starting to open the door to the other side. The divinity of the Maker seeped through the crack, and for the first time, I felt truly at peace.

One of the greatest powers I have ever felt burst into existent. It was similar to… Ragnarok! Those piteous l'Cie! I gave a low laugh, feeling Ragnarok attack. The destruction of Cocoon.

But the creation did not rise to Cocoon. Instead it fell to Pulse, into the world, cracking through its skin and sending magma at the cracked husk of Cocoon.

Return, Maker!

The magma would do much damage to Cocoon. But I felt something new; something strange.

A feeling of euphoria surged through me: the feeling of a Focus complete.

They couldn't be!

The floating lights started to dissipate, signalling the end of my dream. She was not coming back.

Crystal sleep.

The two l'Cie split, Ragnarok itself fading. But the l'Cie of Oerba were still there. They were crystal, and they were joined with the magma surrounding Cocoon.

The Return was averted.

I let out a silent scream, myself, the barest imprint of a being, a smudge of the suspended Cocoon. I saw Her lights flicker. A few more rose, but none with the energy I'd experienced before.

"Mother" I whispered, feeling suddenly weak. The Creator of the fal'Cie was leaving. Would She ever come back?

"Come to me" Her soft, sweet voice echoed, emanating from the lights, the ground, the very world itself. "Come to me, Barthendelus."

She knew who I was. I felt like the child I was: the child She saw.

The door to where She dwelled was shutting. I knew now there was but one way to be with Her. To journey through that unavoidable door.

"Mother" I whispered, a flicker of my true strength returning, "I am coming!"

"My son…" I felt a small, kind smile form on Her unseen face. "You never had to do this, any of this."

"Are you…sad?" I felt a pang of what could be compared to guilt wash through me.

"I could never disagree with one of my children"

"Thank you…mother"

"Come, my son. Forget your sins"

"I will" I felt the life fade from my weak form, yet I was not sad, not disappointed. I only felt…hope.

"You only had to ask" the Maker whispered as the door drew shut.

I just completed the game, and couldn't help see something worthy of pity in Barthendelus. Ok, he's a really annoying boss (especially first time. Destrudo?!) but in essence, all he's trying to do is see his mother. If you think about it, he is just a young child, doing what any young child would: doing whatever they could to see their mother.