Chapter Thirty-One: The Beginning of The End

These four personalities
Can be so very vital
For the wisdom they impart.

- From ‘The Beginning of The End’
By Ludwig von Sphexoren

Vincit stepped into one of the many sitting rooms in the palace. Jon and Uziel both looked up from where Dr. Zendo (well, one of the many Dr. Zendo's in the galaxy) was tending to Oscar's wound. The medical sheet draped across the table was already stained with blood.

"How is he?" Vinny asked quietly as Jon walked over to him.

"He will be well," Jon sighed, looking back, "The doctor said he shall be sore for a day, but his wound was not mortal."

Vinny nodded as the two of them walked back across the room. It appeared that the doctor had just finished mending Oscar's skin and was proceeding to bandage the area to protect it from infection.

"Thanks again for the help, Osc."

"Don't mention it," Oscar hissed through his teeth as Zendo and Uziel helped him to a sitting position so the doctor could finish wrapping the bandage around his midsection.

"What news from the war room, Your Majesty?" Uziel asked, looking up at Vinny.

"The generals and Guideau are still screwing around with their toys and Wyn's putting in the call to Gamezoha to ask about Whutty."

"And Palantenna?" Jon asked.

Vinny sighed, "If we can't find anybody who knows where Mad Knife is, we'll just have to try and get in touch with Pyrite. Either way, there's no guarantee that either of them will know how to get there. Miriam said something about the place being beyond the boarders of living space--something 'bout telluric waves or all that--I dunno... things have been a jumble since Emmanuel attacked."

At this, Uziel's face visibly darkened, "I am sorry for the loss of your friend, Your Majesty."

"Yeah, well, he wasn't the first and... truth be told, he might not be the last."

The three were silent for a moment until Zendo finished patching up Oscar with the flourish of a skillfully trained physician, "You're done. Keep the physical activity to a minimum and for the love of Zog, take your meds like your supposed to, huh?"

"Yeah, okay," Oscar gritted his teeth as he grabbed his shirt. It fell free as he held it up, displaying the large rip in the fabric, still glistening from the blood. He dropped the shirt in his lap with a sigh and a defeated shrug of the shoulders, "I need another shirt... again."

Vinny and Jon smiled. Uziel let out a solid guffaw and clapped Oscar on the shoulder, probably a little harder than necessary.

----------

The Empire ticks still.

That's what they kept telling themselves. Regardless of the insurmountable odds, the sickening lurch of the gut when one realizes that to hope is folly, despite the thousands of lives lost to The Unwritten Ones and their swarming infestation, any true-blooded Gamezohan would've told you the same thing.

The Empire ticks still. And it would continue to tick until every last one of them were dead.

General Whutty could feel it. He could feel that tick in his blood--his bones--his very soul. And with each passing second, each minute, each report and each casualty, he knew full well that the Empire wouldn't tick for long.

Whutty impulsively smiled at the thought. Knowing good and well that he was going to die soon was startlingly delicious. The only thing that could make it better was the war: the Gamezohan military forces weren't going to outlast the enemy. They were only buying time for the universe--and for Vinny and his ragtag crew of misfits--but eventually, something would give.

All we're doing is delaying the inevitable, Whutty thought, tapping a fingernail on the arm of his chair, and it was just making the prospect of death all the more exciting. He'd never felt so alive before--and THAT too just served to make what was yet to come so much more poignant.

What bothered him the most in the back of his mind was the fact that a lot of people... heh, and I do mean a LOT of people--were basically going to be erased from existence. Come to think of it, there won't even BE an existence to be erased from, once The Unwritten Ones had finished with it.

Yeah, that part... that part wasn't cool at all.

Admittedly, Whutty's attention wasn't entirely devoted to the chaos at hand. He was constantly thinking back to the information he had received from that Corso fellow a few weeks ago: the translated panels and subtitles from The Lore of Love and Loss. There was something about those nine illustrations that kept bugging him, but he hadn't been able to put them all under close scrutiny before being captured by Moebius, then finding himself thrust into battle--not to mention the death of one of his better friends in the whole wide galaxy--lucky bastard.

No, before that, all that had really mattered then was 'her'--making sure she was safe. He had taken a roundabout way of finding her, but thanks to Syne and Uziel, additional potential heartache had been avoided. He hadn't even had a chance to see her, but she was okay and maybe, Whutty guessed, that was all that really mattered.

But what does it matter that ANYTHING matters when The End is just a few weeks away, at most? Yeah, that still wasn't any cooler since he had last thought of it.

The real-time death/kill ratio had grown so large, its onscreen number count was calculated exponentially. Whutty moved the counter to the background of the holographic GUI and brought up his personal documents, opening the file named LLL.

Right away, the first description and image to project itself was perhaps the only one he had really paid any attention to: Roman numeral one, The Panther. No-one who didn’t fight by the rules can win. It was this panel that had confirmed his suspicions originally--that 'her' disappearance had been of the machinations of Moebius.

And where there was Moebius...

----------

... there was Klot: sitting in a passenger seat on the small shuttlecraft, trying his hardest not to let the random outbursts of that damned vampire annoy him. Besides, the obnoxiously loud snoring sounds emanating from the demon's cavernous mouth was doing a good enough job of that.

The four had left Discordia earlier that day, but not before the twins had given Nevin a rather fond farewell and made him promise to return.

"Nevin," Kara said, lazily steering the ship with one hand, "Would you PLEASE wake Joel up again?"

Nevin didn't respond, but he did have a toothy grin on his face as he stuck a foot out across the aisle, took aim at Joel's seat, and pushed as hard as he could. The chair spun sideways, coming to an abrupt stop and causing Joel to topple off it onto the floor.

"OOF! DAMMIT!"

Nevin proceeded to explode into fits of riotous laughter as this was all good fun to him.

"What the HELL'S your problem?!"

"Your snoring," Klot said from the front seat, "I thought you had a good night's sleep last night?"

"I said I had a good night," Joel grumbled, "Not a good night's sleep." He chuckled as he climbed up into the chair and sat back down, "Didn't have a chance to sleep, the things I did last night. Hoo-boy!"

Nevin's laughter was renewed by this comment for some inexplicable reason, which reminded Joel that he REALLY hated that vampire.

"How much farther until we get to Erendauer?" Joel asked. The four had set a course for the capital planet of the Kingdom of Wendauer with the intent to capture Oscar and force him into reuniting with Joel--a step necessary to create a slightly skewed Dr. de Viaminima to run The Pyramid.

"Not far now," Kara replied, "A couple hours, give or take. I hope you've got some sort of plan."

Joel choked, "Me? Nobody told me nothing 'bout no plan!"

"Relax," Klot said, displaying remarkable control with the tone of his voice, "DAMOCLES has arranged for everything. All we need to do is follow his instructions once we arrive."

"And afterwards?" Kara asked, turning her head towards her father despite not having the eyes to see him.

"Afterwards," Klot said, "We'll need to find a way to reach the home of the elves."

Nevin's giggling came to an abrupt stop, "Palantenna?"

"You know of it?" Klot asked.

"Not really," the vampire smirked, "But I seem to be recalling times when ol' Mad Knife would go blabbering on and on 'bout it whenever he had one too many drinks."

"The space pirate," Klot muttered, drumming his fingers on the console, "Is it possible he may know how to get there?"

"Anythin's possible, but whether or not that adyn* knows fer sure, I wouldn't venture a guess. Best we ask him in person."

"Very well. We'll have to track him down somehow."

I WILL FIND HIM.

Klot nodded, "DAMOCLES will locate Valendil. All we need to do is continue to Erendauer."

A grating loud snort caught everyone's attention. Joel was asleep again.

"Nevin..." Kara sighed.

"With pleasure, cariad!"

*rascal, rogue, rapscallion, miscreant, scoundrel, take your pick

----------

Whutty shifted in his chair. The man known as Klot had been the source of a great deal of frustration and aggravation for many people. But it wasn't until that moment, surrounded by The Black Fire, unable to see or think or feel beyond the dancing ebony flames, when Klot killed the Archduke, a dragon who was practically a deity unto the Houses of Gamezoha, a dragon who Whutty had, at one time, considered the closest thing to an actual brother... when Klot killed him, the man truly earned the essence of evil that his reputation had purported him to have.

There was a creaking sound as the arm of the chair started to crack under the pressure of Whutty's grasp on it, and it brought him out of his anger soon enough to keep it from snapping. He put the pain back down, along with all the others in his vast, growing collection of depressing depressions, and pointed at the screen.

The second illustration appeared: the Swan, with the Devil crushing the bird in the grindstone, its remains pouring into the bucket below. Had it been in color, it probably would've been thrice as disturbing as it already was. The translation read They open that which is closed. But according to Corso's notes, the message had more to do with ones weakness lying in the pain of those they love.

This wasn't lost upon Whutty, who sighed loudly. This information wasn't new to him. After all, Moebius did use 'her' as bait for his trap, and Whutty had, in a way, fallen right into it.

But she wasn't dead. As far as he knew, that irritatingly egotistical so-and-so Rockthriller had been squeezing another album out of her. Okay, maybe it was less his doing and more because she was just moved to make more music even with The End looming, but even still...

He was getting off track. Whutty shook his head and thought hard--who else had been killed that would have greatly hurt someone else?

He knew the answer before he had even finished formulating the question.

----------

"Did you ever stop to think why Moebius would have Krystal Halak's soul desecrated to the point where she would become the Tinfoil Lady?"

Bob Corso was inputting commands into the small Port-a-Brain on his lap and looked up at Doom only for a second before returning to his computations. The two were encamped on the planet Tarsus, sitting on a cropping of smooth rocks that dotted the grassy, rolling landscape of Western Vy-Derqui.

"I would've figured it had something to do with The End."

"Any Psychohistorian could tell you that," Doom said, turning to look off into the distance, "Heck, even folks who haven't had a course in their entire life could tell you that she's got something to do with the current forecast, but I'm not talking about the common, I'm talking about the specific: TL isn't just some lame distraction. There's a very important reason it was her."

"Maybe because she was the purest of her kind in the universe," Corso stated as he continued to type away on the computer, hunched over the small screen.

"Did you hear about Count Vasdhra and his bride?" Doom sat down on the rock above Corso, legs hanging over the sloped edge, "Rumor has it she had actually been responsible for it."

"Hmm."

"Of course, the people I heard it from are pretty reliable sources--there might be more fact to it than fiction."

"Hmm."

"They also said she made a Paintatron in the process. An actual, honest-to-god Paintatron. It would've been nice to see."

"Hmm."

Doom considered Corso quietly for a moment, "Also, I know you're secretly gay for Boris Rockthriller and have posters of him tacked up on the walls of your old bedroom."

"Hmm."

"Y'know, I used to think Mitya was just naturally quiet, but maybe it's the girl thing--maybe screwing dragon chicks turns you entirely into a noncommittal autonomous--OUCH!!"

The Port-a-Brain hit Doom squarely in the chest and caused him to double over in pain.

----------

The annoying little jingle noise that signaled an incoming transmission brought Whutty back from his meditation.

"Yes?"

"General. We have a direct message from Her Imperial Majesty. You are to report to Planet Ryjun immediately. Your presence is requested by the King and Queen of Wendauer."

Whutty blinked, "Are you serious? Don't dhey realize I'm a little busy 'ere?"

"Her Imperial Majesty has already made the necessary arrangements. You're to be relieved of command by Admiral Lysander von Sphexoren. He is currently en route to your ship at this time."

"Well, it'll be like I never left, dhen."

"As you like it, General," the officer replied before signing off. Whutty took the opportunity to issue a few final orders and make things prepared for his father to take command. Truth be told, Gamezoha's greatest war hero would need little help, but he wanted to make things easier on the old man in any case.

Before signing off the system, Whutty took one last moment to view the next two illustrations from The Lore of Love and Loss: the Unicorn, forced into the Devil's pocket, ensnared and hidden, and the Raven, squawking indignantly at the taunting Devil, perched upon the tombstone that read "Beloved Wife". The translated subtitles read The lost word guards the Secret, and Fortune isn't equal for everyone, respectively. But after the easily solved Panther and Swan puzzles, the Unicorn and the Raven were truly the most perplexing riddles. If the last two panels represented individuals, then there was a pretty good chance that there were two individuals, somewhere out in the universe, that were represented by the Unicorn and the Raven: one with a secret, one with a preconceived notion.

Neither one, Whutty realized, would be easily found.

----------

Ariston Delapore was sitting in his guest room in the palace on Wendauer. The past couple months had been a lesson in loss. First, he lost his faith in the cause of SURTR. Then, he lost his wife and daughter. And then two of his best friends had met their respective makers.

Then he lost his effin' arm.

Aris sighed as he tested the reflexes on the new artificial arm the Wendauerian doctors had fitted him with. Being a practitioner biomage, Aris would've been well versed enough to attempt a regrowth spell upon himself to fashion another appendage, but it would've taken a year for his limb to grow into a shape that even remotely resembled his former arm--and until then, he would be stuck with a pulsating, grotesque tentacle-looking thing.

In the current state of affairs, it just wasn't a practical solution. Not for the moment.

But the artificial arm served its purpose well. It looked like his arm, felt like an arm, moved and responded like his arm would have.

It still wasn't HIS arm.

Phantom limb, they call it: the perception of vivid feeling arising from the airy appendages of amputees and the nerve-dead limbs of accident victims. Years ago, people thought it was some sort of strange affliction of the body. Modern science would later evolve enough to realize it was just a matter of the nervous system rerouting to the vacant parts of the brain. Complicated neurological process abound. The brain surgeon dips his ladle into the cranium, then takes a sip and declares, "Mmmmm, that's GOOD gray matter!"

Well... whatever the meaning of it all, lesson learned, eh? Are we finished? Can I go?

Aris heard the sound of the common room door open and looked through his doorway to see Oscar and Jon enter. The angel headed straight into his room, but the paladin looked his way and nodded, "Your arm?"

Aris lifted it and flexed the fingers. Every command he gave of it, every synapse firing and nerve ending communicating with digital diode said that this was his arm, his to control just like the one he had been born with. Aris looked down at the floor, "Well, it is now."

"What of Amaya? And Aria?"

"They're missing. I thought they had been killed in the fire--"

Jon's eyes widened in surprise. "Fire?"

"Klot burned their flat to the ground... but no bodies were found in the rubble. So either he kidnapped them... or... they're..." Aris shut his eyes tightly, his face twisting as if he were in pain.

"If they yet live, we shall find them," Jon said with as much reassurance he could muster.

"I don't know if it matters anymore," Aris stood up, grabbing his coat, "It's all coming down to The End real soon. Besides, I... I don't expect them to be alive anymore. All I want now is to see Klot dead."

Jon grabbed Aris by his false arm as he headed out the door, "We have not forsaken hope that all will be made right. Nor should you."

"I never gave up on hope," Ariston said, jerking his arm out of Jon's grasp, "It gave up on me." And with that, he left Jon standing alone in the common room.

Meanwhile, Oscar was sitting on the edge of his bed, his head in his hands. He looked over again at the expressionless face of Cobalt Bleu, then let out another quiet whimper. Every time he looked at the android, it reminded him of the dead Kylie Sphexoren.

In his blind effort to fix the robot he had come to think of as Kylie, he had taken more of the android apart than he had put back together. Parts of Cobalt's arms and legs had been further dismantled, the wires pulled loose in a tangle. He had spent half an hour the previous night trying to carefully remove the super-polymer coating of her abdomen that kept the android's electronic and bio-mechanical guts covered. Now, somehow seeing clearer than before, he was feeling useless again--his own selfish desires had made a bad situation worse, and he couldn't help thinking of the disappointment the others would feel if they knew what he had done.

The twins, Domenic and Leonhard, had been watching quietly from the corner of the room. They stepped forward now, looking down at the angel and the disassembled remnants of their mistresses' android.

"Why are you sad?" Domenic asked.

Oscar's looked up then over at Cobalt's parts, "I just made things worse. I shouldn't have... I don't know what I was thinking."

Leonhard studied the parts, "I see nothing wrong. Unit Bleu can still be repaired."

Oscar looked back at the parts strewn all over the bed, then up at Leonhard, "But I took more of her apart."

"But you did so with the intent to put Unit Bleu back together, correct?"

Oscar opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. His jaw merely moved up and down. He wasn't sure of his intentions then, and he still wasn't sure of them now. Could he trust himself anymore?

Domenic's head tilted to the side, "You are Doctor Josephus de Viaminima."

Oscar blinked at Domenic, "Huh?"

"Unit Bleu was built by mistress using technical essays written by you. Nobody in the universe would know how to fix Unit Bleu better than mistress save for Doctor de Viaminima."

"You do not have to fix ALL of Unit Bleu," Leonhard added, "You merely need to fix the right parts. Unit Bleu can then activate self-reconstruction."

"You can fix," Domenic finally said.

Oscar looked at the twins, then at the mechanical parts on the bed. He remembered Jon's words at the breakfast table that morning: "That android is not the slain woman. She is an android. An android you can repair. A woman you cannot."

He had killed Kylie, but the deed had been done by Joel's essence. It had taken so long for it to sink in, and it still had yet to take root, but the understanding that neither his grief nor his death would bring the lost dragon back to life was beginning to dawn on him. It wouldn't help any of the innocent victims of Joel's hatred. For all the wrong that Joel would do, it would be wrong of Oscar to do nothing in response.

The angel breathed deeply, letting the slowly growing reason wear away at the despair. When he opened his eyes, he had one goal.

"I need my tools," Oscar said firmly.

Leonhard held up Oscar's kit. Domenic held up the Port-a-Brain. Then, ignoring his body's demands for sleep, Oscar began to repair the teenage robot with a determination he had not displayed in months.

----------

It never immediately occurred to Whutty who the Stag in panel Roman numeral five represented, although he found the translation, In vain, to be remarkably applicable to many of the current events going on in recent weeks. The only thing that kept him from keeping to the pretext was the notes by Corso, that the phrasing often refers to the attempt to escape from oneself.

It wouldn't be until later that Whutty would realize the Stag was representative of Oscar Angeles. By then, of course, it would matter little. Moebius had planted his hooks in the angel since he first downed the Aggregate Twenty-One and went completely nuts. The only person who could save Oscar now was Oscar.

But again, Whutty wouldn't know about this until much later. Right now, he was lounging lazily in his short-range transport as the autopilot took the quickest and safest route to Ryjun. He still had no immediate clue as to why Omnibus and his crew would need his help--or whatever help he could offer. Hell, they were all going to die, anyways.

Music for Airports looped in the background. Whutty closed his eyes and smiled.

The smile vanished when Whutty touched the screen and Roman numeral six came up.

The Snake.

Ditesco mori, translated, I profit from death. The Devil is shown feeding a slithery reptile the contents of the bucket of "swan juice". If the beloved Krystal was the ill-fated soul crushed back in the second panel, then there was only one person the Snake could possibly represent.

And he was already dead.

----------

The plush snake had fallen partially out of Klot's pocket and he took a moment to stuff it down back inside his suit. He wasn't worried about loosing the trophy, but he was concerned that the vampire might snatch it away at the most inopportune moment and do something nutty with it again. Best to keep temptation hidden away.

"We're in Wendauer space," Kara announced pressing a few buttons on the ships console, "We're going to have a real tough time getting onto Erendauer with the current state of security."

"How tough a time?" Joel asked gruffly.

"Like, it'll be next to impossible to get in undetected. The best way to avoid suspicion would be to hide in plain sight."

The demon let out a hollow laugh as he swung back and forth slowly in his chair, a foot propped up against the wall, "Sure, that sounds like a great plan. I'll go get some flashing neon lights and red arrows and Klot here can wear the pink feather boa."

"If you don't shut up," Klot said very calmly, "I'll cut out your tongue."

"Screw you," Joel said, but his posture betrayed his fear that Klot would actually act on his threat.

"As much as I'd hate to admit it, Joel does have a point, father," Kara sighed, "Both your faces are too well-known throughout the galaxy now to get us through any military checkpoint safely. You'll either need to disguise yourselves or lay low while Nevin and I sneak in."

"Then we will wait for you and let DAMOCLES be your guide," Klot said, "But... are you sure you want to take that... thing?"

Nevin was near the back of the cockpit and had been rummaging through cabinets and opening pressure-sealed baggies of clothing and supplies. He now had a pair of socks on his hands that vaguely resembled Joel and Klot and was engaged in a little puppet theater--most of which involved said puppets beating the crap out of each other.

Kara and Klot watched Nevin, who paused to grin unnervingly and wave one of the sock puppets at them before returning to his entertainment.

"Would you rather I left him here with--"

"--no."

"That's what I thought."

----------

The sky of Western Vy-Derqui was growing darker by the minute. That's not to suggest that night was falling on Planet Tarsus, no. The Unwritten Ones were pressing forward, lashing out against the struggling Gamezohan fleet, and they were winning. In their wake, they left an inky blackness that could not be described, darker than dark, without any stars.

It made Doom want to cringe. He refrained from doing so, however, as he and Corso made their way carefully along the edge of the grassy fields and into the densely packed forest.

"Get Mitya on the comm-link again, Doom," Corso said, looking up into the darkening sky, hands on his hips, "Find out where the Glock he is."

"Will do," the metal-masked black mage said, "Team Romero to Team... uh...

"Say it..." the voice wafted hauntingly over the comm-link.

Doom sighed and started over again in a monotonous voice that let his annoyance shine through, "Team Romero to Team Sexy Time, report, over."

Dolph began laughing on the other end. Doom looked at Corso who seemed to be ignoring the exchange.

"Gimmie that," Mitya's voice sounded in the background. There was a little static, then Mitya's voice came through loud and clear, "We're less than 30 klicks east of your position. Current lines suggest the void core is located to the northwest of our position at the foot of that large mountain, over."

"Affirmative on that, Mitya, we're coming up with the same numbers except Corso thinks it might be IN the mountain."

"Santa Monica. Any word from command?"

Doom looked back at Corso again for a second, "Negative, Mitya, all we have to go on is the last data packet they sent us. You'd think they could've guessed with a little better accuracy."

"Yeah, you'd think. See ya at the mountain?"

"Roger, we're en route. Better make it snappy," Doom said, looking back up at the sky, "I don't think we oughta be hanging around here much longer."

"Agreed. Over and out. And don't call me Roger."

Doom closed the comm-link and walked up behind Corso, putting a hand on his shoulder, "You alright, Bob?"

Corso looked at Doom, then back up at the sky, "Seeing as I've never been alright and I'm not alright now I'd say things are actually alright."

The two Warthogs looked at the darkening sky, the inky blackness creeping ever so slowly across it.

"Let's get moving."

----------

Prior to his small personal craft pulling into the Ticine ship docks, Whutty had just enough time to view the seventh illustration in Corso's emailed translations, the Boar, blinded by the Unicorn--still captured in the Devil's pocket, by the way, but a threat, nonetheless. A bright light emanated from the Unicorn's mouth, blinding the Boar, causing it to bleed from its eyes. The translated subtitle read, The student surpasses his master.

If the Unicorn was the secret power kept by an unknown, then that person would be responsible for defeating this new unknown individual: the Boar. Another would be assaulted by Moebius' machinations--and he would use another to do the dirty deed.

Whutty didn't have much time to contemplate who the Boar might represent. There were but a few people that knew who the Boar stood for. Whether this information, along with the predictions of the Lore of Love and Loss, could prevent this dreadful event from happening was unknown.

But no matter, now. The ship's computer was beeping at Whutty, informing him that the docking procedures were nearly complete and he would soon be able to leave his little pod. He signed off from the computer and cached out his personal drive from the system.

----------

Jon was sitting on the edge of his bed, cleaning his buckler. With little to do until he was called upon, all the paladin could do was to prepare for the ordeal to come. Most of his thoughts had dealt with the dream from the night prior. The silver tray sat on the bed with him, the phrases scratched in a ragged fashion:

"Not dead - brother?" Surely that didn't mean Gauss was alive. He had been killed. Hadn't he? If there were any doubts, the only person who would know for sure would be the man who had killed him.

"Better she dies." Having thought on this one, a possible answer had come quickly to him, but he had refused to accept the possibility. Better she dies than is bent to Moebius’ will, the Boar had said. And he knew the words to be true, but why? Why would she have to die? Why--

The knock at the door made Jon jump, "Yes?"

"Hello, Jon."

"Hello, Miriam."

"I am sorry to interrupt," she said.

"No, no--not at all. You are always welcome," Jon said, feeling a little awkward.

Miriam walked over to the bed and sat beside Jon, "What troubles you?"

"What dost thou mean?"

"You forget--I still have a direct connection to you," she smiled, referring to the time when Miriam was still just a collective consciousness of nanobots within Jon's bloodstream. Even after merging with the 14MPOITU and manifesting herself in a physical form, she still retained some bio-electrical contact with the individuals she had been in contact with.

"I have prayed for... understanding," Jon said, "To know what God has wanted from me in these final hours. I do not know what I will have to do, but I know what must be done."

"And what bothers you more?" Miriam asked, "Not knowing what will happen, or knowing what you have to do?"

Jon felt a tightening feeling inside his chest. He remembered with vivid detail the moment when Miriam's nanobots left his body. He was scared to lose her then, and he was beginning to feel that fear coming over him again.

He had felt adoration towards other women before, but as a matter of discipline, he had fought against the temptations of the flesh so that his soul would remain pure. Now, after having experienced so much of the universe--having seen God's creation beyond the walls and teachings of The Order, could he deny himself his agape for Miriam by habit alone? He knew that he loved Miriam, but was it meant to be?

Deep within Jon was a stirring of faith, a conflict of interests, between what he had always known and what his heart was telling him. He had long since been confined to a small box--spiritually, that is, a small box of grace, by which his actions were measured and mended by God. To live within that box would keep him secure against the evils of the world by keeping his soul pure and preventing him from performing ill acts or harming others.

But something had happened to Jon--something that neither science nor religion could explain. Unbeknownst to him, the walls of his box had grown, giving him more space to move, space to breath, space to live--in essence, the grace of God had given him more freedom: freedom to experience the things of the world--within reason--without voiding his salvation. Those who still dwelt in smaller boxes of grace would not understand--would not be able to see. For those whom grace overflowed, their boxes only seemed to get bigger.

Of course, Jon didn't perceive this analogy. He was still confused by the paradigm he had grown into.

"I know not why my soul is conflicted," Jon said, "But I cannot bear the thought of losing you."

Miriam had a sympathetic expression, "You and I are rather much alike, cariad," letting a little of Nevin's vernacular slip in, "It wasn't until I came to you that I learned what love was. And your own understanding of love has been challenged, as has much of your understanding of the world. Many things have changed," Miriam wrapped her hand around Jon's, "My love for you has not."

Jon and Miriam looked into each other's eyes. Miriam could see that despite his bravery, her loss was now his biggest fear. Not knowing what would happen once the ROCKET was activated, she could make no promises to him.

Jon, of course, was unable to read Miriam as clearly as she could him, but had he been able to, he would have realized that she understood the dangers involved, and just as she was willing to give of herself for existence, so she hoped he would understand the sacrifices he might also have to make.

----------

Eighth panel. The Dove. Virtue lies defeated. And whoever may be the virtuous one, they were defeated because of their own failures, at least that's what the notations suggested. The blind boar sits in the background, looking helpless. Of all the panels, even the second illustration of The Swan, The Dove was Whutty's favorite--not because he necessarily approved of The Devil breaking the neck of The Dove, but rather the aura that the image radiated: utter, unabashed, abject hopelessness. Complete and total despair.

Planet Ryjun, home to the incredible ship construction docks of House Ticine. Whutty was sitting alone in one of the larger conference rooms within the inner workings of an undisclosed Gamezohan military facility. Recent communications from the Wendauerian officials requested he remain on Ryjun until transportation arrived to ferry him to his meeting with the Wendauerian King at a rendezvous location. He still wasn't any clearer on why his presence was so necessary, but he had become accustomed to being left alone, on his own, with little to do but read and wait for things to happen.

Whutty continued to admire the eighth panel of the Lore of Love and Loss until the depression filled him to overflowing, then he pointed at the screen and the image changed once again to reveal the final illustrated panel.

Whutty blinked.

He blinked again.

The Wolf, beaten into submission by The Devil, gives himself willingly to the demon. The translated subtitle read, I know, now, light comes from darkness.

The image of the wolf caused something to click in his head, a thought that had yet to occur to him and yet, in the context of the moment and at the same time, like a random chance of factors suddenly lining up, the spark ignited inside his mind and he found himself making a connection that he would have never made under any other circumstance. He observed this idea, studied it, looked at it from every angle he could think of.

Was it possible?

Could it be?

Was he the key?

But how? Why?

----------

"Why?"

Vinny was lounging on a vicious-looking sofa in the royal antechamber. He had been in quiet contemplation about all the events that had transpired today, which made him think about everything that had happened over the course of a good year.

Things had started simple enough: leaving Earth go get a strange rock removed from his body, traveling with a ragtag group of misfits all with their own problems to solve. But then there was Windsong: a beautiful young girl who could be completely vulnerable one second, adorable and cute the next second, and even incredibly and inexplicably dangerous. Then he learned that he and Jon had more in common than just a blood oath. Reconciling with dad, getting married, becoming a soon-to-be-father, becoming a king... no, becoming THE King.

Mom would've been proud.

Being told the fate of the known universe rests on your shoulders is a heavy burden to bear. Many have had to deal with that type of feeling, but rarely do the consequences of their failure measure up to what Vinny now faced. One year ago he never pictured being told he was the one who would have to save the galaxy. He was no king.

"Who am I?"

He was just Vincit Omnibus, a down-on-his-luck, scruffy-looking, hard-boiled man-for-hire--and that was being kind. There was nothing noble about him--there certainly wasn't anything sophisticated about him--what makes all these people think he could save them all?

"What makes them trust me so much?"

He didn't have any kind of special powers--unless you counted the Bloodrage and the whole werewolf-bear-whatever thing. He didn't FEEL special. Just because you're related to a bunch of royal highnesses doesn't make you feel special. So why did they trust him so?

"Because I said I would be King."

Vincit remembered the moment in the Schwarzwald, still suffering from the effects of the woad, dizzy, disoriented, confused, yet for but a brief instant he had a realization that he would accept his part as The King. The King was the one who died to heal the land. The King gave up his life and went down into the underworld to beg the Goddess of the Darkness to spare the lives of his people. The King died so that the creation could be healed.

Now, creation was coming to an end--The End, is what they called it.

The end to end all the ends. And if he had any say in the matter, Vinny was damn sure he wasn't ready for everything good in his life to be taken away from him.

He thought of the Earth, blackened and destroyed by DAMOCLES. He thought of Wernher, the moment Delapore had broken the news that their dear friend was dead, slain by Klot. He thought of Emmanuel, the last of his kind, his life cut short by the Ecaria; of Krystal, her body limp in Gauss' arms as the dragon wept in anguish; of Oscar, driven mad by Joel's hatred, then into depression by his own guilt.

He thought of mom.

And then his mind lingered toward past memories. Memories of things lost--things forgotten--things he had chained and locked deep within him. And he shuddered as his mind's eye risked a glance upon the memories that he had kept hidden away for a very long time.

His eyes flew open as he slammed shut the door in his mind again.

No. He wasn't going to lose anything or anyone ever again...

... he would die first.

----------

"The theory," Dolph was explaining, "Is that the power of each individual ninja is inversely proportionate to that of the number of ninja."

Doom looked up as the four Warthogs made their way through the brushy rocky area at the foot of the mountain range. The sky behind them had grown darker as storm clouds began forming to the south. In a few more hours they would be drenched--if they weren't erased from existence, first. While it was imperative to locate the next void-core for the sector, the four were still moving at a careful pace to avoid breaking bones on the sharp rocks that hid amongst the prickly bushes.

"So," Mitya drawled, "What you're saying is, the more ninja there are, the weaker each one becomes?"

"Exactly," Dolph said, "That's the Theory of Ninja Power Force Factor."

"Bullshit," Doom said.

"Seriously!" Dolph said, "Why else would the secret weapon have been defeated so quickly?"

"Theory or not, one quadrillion ninja is nothing to sneeze at, I don't care who you are," Bob said, pausing to double-check the readout on his HUD.

"If there were one quadrillion ninja," Mitya thought out loud, "Then the potential strength of each ninja would have been one quadrillionth their original strength. Those are some weak-ass ninjas."

"Well, technically speaking," Dolph continued. He pulled out what looked like a cigarette and stuck it in his mouth, "I mean, you and I wouldn't stand a chance--maybe kill one or two, but sure as hell couldn't deal with more than that."

"One or--shit," Doom said, "I've seen a single ninja take on fifty at once and whip all their asses."

"Duh," Dolph pulled out a lighter, "He's one ninja--he's stronger than all of 'em."

Doom shook his head.

"Suppose the theory is limited only to humanoids," Bob started, "Compare your average humanoid to your average Gamezohan and there's a big difference in strength and abilities."

Dolph took a drag and blew smoke into the air, "True, but the theory still applies. The Gamezohan factor is probably why the ninja lasted as long as they did, albeit for a REALLY pathetic amount of time."

"Wait a minute," Mitya suddenly said, "Let's just say, for example, about a third of those ninjas were killed: would the others become stronger because their numbers had diminished?"

"See!" Dolph looked sharply at Doom, "HE gets it!"

"Oh, I get it!" Doom said, "I just think it's bullshit."

"Where'd you hear this one, anyways?" Bob asked over his shoulder.

"Well, I was with this friend of mine and he wanted me to sample this really fine product he'd gotten from Mulaghra--"

Doom and Corso exchanged knowing looks.

"Hey Corso, check your readings," Mitya suddenly interrupted, "Are you getting the same number I'm getting?"

Bob was silent for a moment, "Yeah. There's no doubt about it. The void-core is in the mountain."

"Bummer," Dolph said in a tone that was probably more mellower than it should have been. He took another pull on the cigarette.

Corso turned around, "Doom: any suggestions?"

"Damnit, Bob, I'm a black mage, not an orologist."

"Fine," Corso said, "Start a geological scan, Mitya, take the eastern half."

"What are we looking for?"

"A cave."

----------

Jon had slept little the past few days. He was sleeping soundly now and his dreams swirled and changed color. He was floating in his space, surrounded by shifting light and distant sound. He wasn't afraid. He felt safe, secure. His mind was at peace.

The peace was suddenly shattered by the screeching visage of a large black bat.

Jon's eyes shot open.

Miriam was lying next to him, not sleeping, but in a sort of sleep mode. Her eyes immediately opened and she leaned up at Jon's sudden awakening, "What is it?"

"I know not," Jon said, standing up quickly. He was out his door and in the common area. Nothing seemed out of place, but he'd better check on Oscar, just to be safe. He knocked. No answer. Fearing Oscar may have hurt himself again, he opened the door.

Fortunately, Oscar hadn't slit his wrists or hung himself or overdosed on Diazepam.

In fact, he wasn't even in his room.

It looked as if he had just wandered off somewhere. Both Leonhard and Domenic were standing in the corner, apparently on some sort of energy saving mode. Sitting against the nearby desk, Cobalt had nearly been completely reassembled, an arm and leg the only parts partially reconnected to the android's body. A pair of wires connected to Oscar's supercomputer lost themselves in the tangle near the base of Cobalt's neck. The small screen was glowing brightly, casting shadows on the walls of the darkened room.

diagnostic complete
systems functional: 88%
systems offline: 10%
systems unknown: 1.89%
initiate auto-repair program? y/n_

Miriam walked up behind Jon and the two looked at each other. After some hesitation, Miriam finally reached forward and tapped the Y key.

----------

The initial shock of the Aggregat Einundzwanzig coupled with the subsequent death of Kylie had been more than Oscar's guilt-ridden conscience could handle. Perhaps it was the power Jon displayed in healing Oscar, not only physically but psychologically. Or perhaps it was being back in the company of friends. Whatever the case, Oscar Angeles was feeling a lot better than he had been in a long time.

Having done a great deal of work on Cobalt Bleu for the past few hours, Oscar suddenly realized he was very hungry and left the android hooked up to his computer to run automated diagnostics while he went to find the royal kitchen and request something a humanoid could stomach.

As the angel walked down the dark palace halls, he couldn't help but think about the things that had happened. Perhaps the thing that weighed most heavily on his mind was Assumpta. She had given up her pledge to seek out Oscar, and he had done nothing but turn her away since his sickness. He began to feel sick to his stomach and decided he needed to find her and apologize before he could begin thinking about food. He turned around.

"'Ello, there!"

The sight of Nevin smiling broadly took Oscar by surprise and he jerked backwards, his sword suddenly materializing in his hand.

"Ah," Nevin turned his head away and put a hand up to his face, "Put that thing away, yeah?"

"Huh... oh, sorry," Oscar said as the sword faded and vanished, "Nevin? What're you doing here?"

Nevin rubbed one of his eyes with the palm of his hand and grinned, "Mucking about. Been killing snakes and what not."

"What?"

"No, what not."

"Wait... what?"

"Never mind, you gwirion*--see 'ere, I'm on a very important mission, yeah?"

Oscar looked skeptical, "A mission?"

"Yeah, see--c'mere close... no, really mate, promise I won't bite--see, I'm su'posed to be keeping yer attention, right, while Kara sneaks up behind ya and bops ya on the noggin."

Oscar smiled, then chuckled while Nevin laughed loudly.

Then Kara came up behind Oscar and knocked him out.

"Ace job, cariad!"

"Nothing to it," Kara said, smiling, "Now let's get out of here before our luck runs out."

"Y'know," Nevin grunted as he hefted the unconscious angel over his shoulder, "Ye'd have thought this was going to be more difficult, eh?"

As it turns out, it was just that exact moment that things became more difficult.

*silly, I think

----------

Windsong found Vinny on the balcony outside the royal bedchambers.

"Are you okay, dear?"

Vinny looked back at Wyn and smiled, "Nervous as hell. How 'bout you?"

Windsong smiled back, "Can't say I'm any better."

The two stood side-by-side on the balcony, looking out over Aufena Lainier and the rolling plains off to the north, the red sun sinking slowly below the horizon.

"I don't want to stay behind," Wyn said.

"I know, babe, I don't want to leave you behind, but... it's better this way. You've got a duty to your people. And the baby."

"I know all that!" Windsong said, "But... if everything's coming to The End, what does it even matter?"

Vinny wrapped his furred arms around his wife, "In the long run I guess nothing really matters, but win, lose or draw, I'd just as soon make it to The End knowing I did everything I could to keep you safe. This thing that I've got to do, I've got to do it for everyone."

"But what if you don't make it in time?"

Vinny snorted, "And what if the sky falls, and what if the stars burn out and what if Joel Diablo got ass-raped by a pack of Arcturian Wolfbears--"

Wyn laughed. Vinny smirked at the image.

"We could stand here until the sun came 'round again, thinking about all the 'what ifs' and it won't make a lick of difference. We don't know what's gonna happen, but I know what I want to happen and I'm gonna try and make it happen or die trying..."

Silence. Windsong stopped smiling.

"I'd better give it all I got," Vinny said, "Otherwise, we're all dead anyways."

Wyn wrapped her arms around Vinny and buried her face in his chest, "It's going to hurt to see you go."

All Vincit could do was hold her. "Me too, babe. Me too."

Outside, the wind whipped around the spiked, ebony architecture of the Wendauerian palace. Perched upon the topmost spire, Uziel was meditating, praying, whispering. He was reaching out, sensing this strange world, it’s creatures, it’s energies. Why hadn’t the Almighty contacted him? Was He in pain? As the universe was meeting its end, was He, too, also suffering? Uziel had all the puzzle pieces, he just wasn’t seeing how they all fit together… the beast king, the saint, brother Iochshephael… why couldn’t they see it all clearly?

Suddenly, his eyes shot open.

"She comes!"

----------

Nevin freaked.

"What?! What?! What is it?!"

Kara whirled around and waved frantically at Nevin, hissing, "Shhhhhhut up!"

The vampire didn't listen. He was suddenly looking around his head in a frantic manner which likely meant the invisible whisps that tended to follow him around had suddenly started flipping out--probably saying things all at once and very loudly. The limp body of Oscar slipped backwards off Nevin's shoulder and fell to the ground in a heap as Nevin crouched down and put his hands over his head.

"What's wrong?" Kara knelt beside him, "What is it?!"

"SHUT UP!" Nevin suddenly yelled, his voice echoing down the corridors. Then he froze, his eyes closed, a fanged grimace on his face. He opened one eye. Then the other. And he looked around as if he were expecting to see the whisps flying around his head.

"What's wrong?" Kara asked again.

Nevin finally looked directly at Kara and his eyes widened, "It's here." He whispered the words, but the sound echoed as ominously as his shouts had earlier.

"What's here?" Kara asked, suddenly feeling very uncomfortable. Then DAMOCLES spoke to her.

IT IS ECARAIA. OBLIVION COMES.

The hallway became visibly darker, the shadows growing, moving. It stepped forth, still inhabiting the form of Emmanuel Saurin, only he was all a shade of the dark obsidian of the void.

Kara didn't immediately understand her fear. It wasn't until she began to feel the nothingness that she trembled. She knew that it was somehow related to all the things that Moebius had been doing, but couldn't understand the why or how. She only knew she didn't want to be anywhere near it.

Nevin, on the other hand, was frozen with terror. The fear was akin to that of finding himself in a novelty crucifix manufacturing facility.

"What have we here?" the darkness spoke, but while Em's mouth moved, it was not merely his voice. There was a second voice, feminine, oily, full of secretive menace, "There is something about you. I have sensed it since you arrived--something... special."

Kara stood up, helping Nevin to his feet, "What do you want with us?"

"You? You I want nothing of--you are merely a pawn of a pawn, so insignificant as to not even merit my attention," Eçaraia spoke, her dark eyes penetrating, "But you..."

Nevin's face twitched.

"Do you know who I am?"

Nevin's face twitched again. Deep within him a change was taking place. Much like anybody who finds a growing fascination with the horrific: a car crash on the side of the road, gruesome war photography, maggots and flesh and decay--so too, did Nevin suddenly find himself becoming entranced by the void, the darkness, the nothing.

"Bloody 'ell."

"Do you remember now?" Eçaraia smiled, "How you once searched for me? You failed to look in the most obvious places. I would have expected more of you, Owain."

At the mention of his old, mortal name, a change suddenly came over Nevin and he barked with laughter, "Hah! Whew! Had me goin' fer a moment there. I thought ye were talking at me."

Eçaraia frowned, "Do not try to outwit me with your foolishness, undead one."

"Right, right, how brash of me," Nevin said, grabbing Oscar and hefting him over his shoulders again, "Well, we'll be on our way."

Eçaraia growled, the deep rumble filling the hall. Kara's brow betrayed the worried expression on her eyeless face.

Nevin suddenly whirled around, his own face darker than before, "Spent a long time searching for you, I did, and not once did you show. You know the rules well as I do: there's no harm can come to me or the one I choose--an' I choose 'er," the vampire nodded in the direction of Kara who turned to look back at the manifestation.

It's interesting to note that as a vampire infected with the DAMOCLES virus, Kara, like her father, can still "see" the world around them, in a sense. Sound, vibrations, smells, temperature--DAMOCLES takes all these factors and constructs a kind of outline in the dark blindness of their vision. As Kara looked now upon Eçaraia, she saw Oblivion in the shape of a person--as if part of the image in her mind had been cut out with scissors. The blackness that represented this negative space was darker than the blindness around it.

"Now sod off!" Nevin declared angrily, "Come, Kara."

Kara and Nevin started to walk away, the girl looking nervously behind at Eçaraia, who could do nothing but stand and fume. The hallway darkened and when the lights became bright once again, Eçaraia was nowhere to be seen.

"What was that all about?" Kara asked, looking back over her shoulder.

"Always read the fine print," Nevin muttered, "We need to leave."

----------

"Okay, I found it."

"Found it? Found it where? I don't see it--"

"Ow!"

"Oh, there it is."

"Would you back off, numb nuts, I'm trying to get a reading, here."

"Hey guys, you think these mushrooms are poisonous?"

"I dunno, Dolph, why don't you pop a few and see."

The Warthogs were now well beneath the mountain where their instruments said the void-core would be located and sure enough, it was.

The void-core. Darker than the darkness that engulfed it, radiating a bluish tint, a point of pure, concentrated oblivion. The anomaly took up the entire width of the cavern so there was no advancing beyond it safely.

Corso looked at the readings on his Port-a-brain, then down to the cavern floor where a small pebble was sliding across the rocky ground towards the core. He could feel the pull itself, not strong enough to move him physically, but the implied force coupled with the disturbing desire to move or even fall towards the core, made more alarming by the fear of suddenly becoming nonexistent.

Corso suddenly bent down, picked up the pebble by his boot and pocketed it. It's not like it made any difference to him whether the tiny rock existed or not, but perhaps something in his subconscious thought the allegory was fitting.

"Okay," Doom said, "So that's a void-core. Whatta we do now?"

"Easy," Mitya said, hefting his pack off his shoulders, "We set us up the bomb."

Bob and Doom looked at each other, then started unpacking the equipment from their own packs.

Dolph ate the mushrooms.

----------

"Hey Jon," Vinny and Windsong walked into the little common room that had been Jon, Oscar and Aris' home-away-from-home in the palace. Jon and Miriam were sitting on one of the couches. Ariston had returned to the room at some point since his departure and was brooding in a nearby chair. The three of them looked to the door when Vinny and Wyn stepped in.

"Something wrong?" Vinny asked, noticing the look on Jon's face.

"I pray not," Jon replied, "Oscar has wandered off of his own accord. I am concerned for his safety."

Vinny looked at Miriam, "You didn't happen to try and contact him, Mir, did you?"

Miriam shook her head, "I sense him, but there is no response. He may be choosing not to respond, or he may be unconscious."

Vinny nodded, "I don't like the sound of that. Taking care of Oscar is starting to become a real hassle. We've got to find him--we need to leave soon. Word from Gamezoha is Whutty is back from the frontline, but things are starting to go to shit out there. The sooner we get going... whoa!"

Cobalt had been standing just behind the door so that Vinny and Wyn hadn't noticed her when they first entered, but she stepped forward now, her unnaturally pale visage catching Vinny off-guard. She had the appearance of a teenage girl, similar in age to Windsong, but perhaps her most striking feature was her azure-colored hair, pulled back into short pigtails. She nodded to the king and queen in silent greeting.

"Sorry, Vincit," Miriam said, "This is Cobalt Bleu. She was the android of Kyliereisonja von Sphexoren before her demise. Oscar took it upon himself to repair her."

Vinny recovered quickly, "Uh, you wouldn't happen to know where Oscar wandered off to, would ya?"

Cobalt shook her head, her pigtails bobbing with the movement, "Negative. Dr. de Viaminima reportedly left before I was fully functional. I have not had sufficient time to record his biosignature for tracking purposes."

"Ah, I see," Vinny said, not really seeing.

"Wait a minute," Windsong said, holding out a hand, "If you can track Oscar based on his DNA makeup, then could you find him if you scanned a sample of his DNA?"

Cobalt nodded, "The sample would have to be very large, but it is possible."

Miriam was already standing. The others watched expectantly as her body shimmered with silver and began to shift, the nanobots taking on a different shape until the startling form of Oscar Angeles appeared, standing taller where Miriam once stood, wings outstretched. Then she spoke, using her own voice, "Will this do?"

Cobalt appeared to study Miriam's Oscar-form for a minute, analyzing the biological data. Finally, she nodded, "Affirmative. Initiating tracking program."

----------

Oscar moaned as he shook his head and slowly got up from the cold, concrete floor. As the throbbing subsided and his vision started to come into focus, he could see he was in some cage or cell in a large empty building. It was dark, and he could only see a couple of feet beyond before the floor disappeared into the darkness.

"It's about time you woke up."

Oscar turned and looked behind him to see Joel leaning against the wall. The demon was grinning as usual whenever he had the upper hand against Oscar.

Oscar frowned. All the vivid memories rushing back to him--the things he did... no, the things Joel's essence made him do. How could he ever want to merge with him?

"What do you want now, Joel?"

"No more games, Angeles," Joel sneered, "I'm sick of you always slipping through my fingers at every opportunity. This time, you're going to give."

Oscar looked around for any signs of escape, "Are you planning on torturing me again? Does it even matter?"

"Actually, it DOES matter," Joel smiled, making the angel feel a little unnerved. "See, I was planning on torturing you, but I got to thinking about it and I got you figured out, see? It doesn't matter WHAT I do to you, you'll take any beating I dish out. That's just you. You like to suffer. You like the pain."

Oscar frowned. While Joel's estimate was inaccurate it was still uncomforting.

"I can't make you do what I want you to do by hurting you," Joel said, smirking, "But when there are others involved, well..." The demon reached into his back pocket and pulled out a small controller. He pressed a button on it and floodlights lit up the far side of the warehouse. Oscar had to shield his eyes from the sudden brightness and squint before he could make out what was illuminated.

"... Aria?!"

Gagged and strapped to a cold medical table, Aria Kurosawa, once thought to have died in a fire started by Klot, was still alive, if barely, her head lolling to the side as if she were heavily sedated. Black rose petals fell to the ground as Klot stepped out from behind the tilted table, the black holes where his eyes once were penetrating Oscar in a very disconcerting way.

"What have you done to her?"

"Unfortunately nothing," Joel said as he started to circle the cage, "She's Klot's prize and he's been using his spooky DAMOCLES powers to keep her under his control and in his custody, a diabolically devious trick, if I do say so myself. The things I could do with that kind of power..."

Klot glanced over at Joel. Joel flinched.

"It'll be a bank holiday in hell before I concede to the restrictions of being DAMOCLES whipping-boy just to hypnotize idiots, though. I can get whatever the fuck I want just as I am," Joel looked back at Oscar and grinned, "And I'm about to do it right now."

"What are you talking about?" Oscar demanded.

"Duh, dumbass! If you break the body, you can break the spirit--only that doesn't seem to work the same way with you. You got your wires crossed or something. So, I'll break HER body," Joel grinned malevolently, "To break YOUR spirit."

The statement hit him between the eyes. Once again, an innocent would suffer. Once again, Joel would use Oscar's own compassion to hurt him. Once again, he would have to live with the guilt.

Joel looked back over at Klot and Aria. He had to admit, DAMOCLES had cooked up a pretty good plan, and the vampire and Kara had done their part well. Klot had seemed hesitant to use his own prisoner as bait, but once Joel understood the idea it took surprisingly little effort to convince Klot the scheme would be worth it. Now, all he had to do was get Oscar to submit.

"What do you want?" the angel asked suddenly, "What do you want me to do?"

Joel let out a disbelieving laugh, "It's what I've tried to get from you forever, Oscar: I want control. I want some say in what we do. I want to be the dominant personality in Mister Doc-tor de Vi-a-mi-ni-MA! I want you to submit to ME!"

Oscar looked up at the demon, "And?"

Joel blinked, "And what?"

"And... what else? Is that it? Is that all you want from me?" Oscar asked, arms open.

Joel blinked again.

"You win," Oscar said, falling to his knees, "I submit. You're in command."

Joel blinked yet again. He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. He was dumbfounded. It wasn't this easy. It was never this easy.

"No," Joel whispered. Then he screamed, "No--NO! This is NOT how it's supposed to happen! You don't get off that easy!" The demon growled, grabbing the controller, "I'm gonna see you suffer through her agony! I'm gonna have the satisfaction of destroying you through her!"

"Diablo!" Klot spoke firmly, masking his concern, but before any further words could be exchanged, the wall behind Oscar exploded inward, spewing concrete and debris into the caged angel and his demonic twin. As the dust cleared a young girl appeared.

"Cobalt Bleu, reporting for duty!"

"Cobalt!" Oscar coughed, pointing across the room, "Save Aria!"

"Affirmative!" The android was nearly to the table when Klot stepped forward. His punch knocked the android back to the ground.

Oscar was testing the bars of his cage when he felt a set of hands clamp over his own, nails digging into the flesh as Joel leaned forward.

"This isn't over," he growled, "I'm just gonna keep coming back again and again and I'm gonna screw up your happy little life every single time until I hear you beg for mercy! You'll have nobody to blame but yourself because you and I are the same! You MADE me!"

"Yes," Oscar replied, calmly. Then he shook off Joel's hands, "We are the same. I made you. It was my choice--a choice I made and I suffer the consequences. Now I have another choice to make."

The sword materialized in Oscar's hand and he gripped it with both, the indentions from Joel's nails slowly oozing blood, "You had your chance, Joel. Now it's my turn."

The demon backed away nervously, then nearly tripped as he turned to run. Oscar breathed deeply then yelled as he brought his sword up and cut across. The bars fell apart and Oscar stepped through in time to see Joel levitate from the ground floor to a catwalk in the rafters. Oscar felt his anger grip him and he burst into action, tearing off his coat and unfurling his wings before launching into the air after his evil twin.

Meanwhile, Klot had Cobalt's neck in his hand and was lifting the android with little effort, "You are not human," he said, tilting his head to the side.

"How very perceptive," Cobalt choked. Suddenly, there was a blast of flame as her rocket boots activated and she whizzed upwards, gripping Klot in a similar fashion and taking him completely off guard. The two zoomed across the room before smashing into the wall and crashing to the floor.

"Android or not," Klot growled, "I will still see to your destruction."

Suddenly, a ball of burning light screamed through the air and caught Klot in the gut, sending him flying backwards a good length of the room.

"LUMINETH!" Aris screamed, summoning another ball of brilliant energy and heaved it at Klot. The DAMOCLES vampire was prepared this time, and he easily deflected the attack, but not without annoyance at having been caught off guard by a sworn enemy. His head jerked in the direction of where Aria had been tied to the table and he was angered to see Miriam and Jon working on her restraints.

Damn Diablo. He was to blame for this. Klot would have his retribution for the demon's selfishness. For now, it would be wise to make ones escape.

"You’re not getting away this time!" Aris yelled as Klot turned to run.

The DAMOCLES vampire looked back, "Says who?"

Klot suddenly felt the shadow upon him, had but a second to turn back and tumble backwards out of the way as Vincit Omnibus fell down from above, landing hard, "Sez ME!"

"Ah," Klot smiled, "The so-called ‘King’. Ours is a battle not meant for this time nor place. We will meet again soon." With that, he was consumed by the Black Fire. Aris and Vincit ran towards the ebony flames, but as they died away, it was apparent that Klot was nowhere to be found.

Meanwhile on the roof, Oscar leapt up through the trapdoor and landed on the slanted metal rooftop just in time to see Joel run up a gangplank into a small spacecraft, which immediately began to take off. The angel launched himself into the air and began to fly in pursuit, but the spacecraft was accelerating far too fast for him to keep up. Frustrated, he threw his sword at the ship, ultimately a futile act. It fell rather long of its intended target and vanished behind the buildings into the streets below. Oscar landed on the roof of the warehouse and yelled in frustration as the ship disappeared into the clouds.

Joel had never been harmless--he had always been a threat to Oscar and everyone around him. But Oscar had just been to hell and back dealing with his darker side and had finally broken free of his guilt, only to have Joel threaten another innocent victim just to get to Oscar. He couldn't let this go on any longer.

He was still pushing the thoughts out of his mind as he ran back inside on the elevated catwalk and jumped down to the ground below where Cobalt, Vinny, Jon, Miriam and Aris were with Aria.

"You alright, Osc?" Vinny asked as the angel walked over.

"I will be. Is she alright?"

Miriam was kneeling beside Aria, silver strands of nanobots trickling from her fingertips and into the woman. Aris held his ex-wife in his arms and watched as Miriam did her work. "There are some heavy drugs in her system," Miriam said, "But she should recover. We should get her to the infirmary."

"I’ll do it," Aris said, hefting Aria up in his arms, "I’ll take her."

The others watched as Aris and Miriam walked out with Aria. "I know we're not supposed to kill Joel," Vinny muttered quietly to Jon, "But it's going to be hard for me not to rip his damn spleen out."

"I rather wish I hadn't the self control to keep me from doing such a thing," Jon replied.

Oscar turned to Cobalt, "Thank you."

Cobalt extended a gloved hand, "Thank you, Dr. de Viaminima, for repairing me."

Oscar hesitated before shaking Cobalt's hand. Then he smiled, "So, what will you do now?"

Cobalt turned her head slightly, "I do not understand."

Oscar looked back at Vinny and Jon, then turned back to the blue-haired android, "Well, I think I've done all I can for you, I'm not sure... did, uh, did... Kylie have a contingency plan should she ever be... unable... to, uh, care for you and the twins?"

Cobalt blinked, "Protocol 42 Hex-Gamma-Deuce-Gamma: In case of mistresses' neutralization, ownership will transfer to Dr. Josephus de Viaminima."

Oscar looked at the Cobalt, then at Vinny and Jon.

"Well, she WAS my number one fan," Oscar said, suddenly extremely nauseated, "... sorry, I think I'm going to be sick... right here..."

----------

Minutes earlier, Mickey the Cod was wandering the streets of Aufena Lainier complaining about his rotten luck when he happened to glance up as a small ship rocketed past over head. Almost immediately, he was skewered from fish head to tail bone by the magical sword of Oscar Angeles, which dematerialized seconds later, leaving a fishy corpse behind.

----------

The mountain shook as the battle between the Gamezohan forces and The Unwritten Ones raged on. Indeed, the whole of Planet Tarsus would soon succumb to the dark and destruction of the void and its minions. Once the core was surrounded by the dark forces, there would be no destroying it.

Corso looked up in the pale green light of his glow stick as the mountain shook again, dust and small rock falling onto his head. The sooner they were out of this tunnel and off the planet, the better.

"Well, look at matter and antimatter," Dolph was saying, "When the two meet they don't cancel each other out, right, it's just total annihilation."

"Not the same," Doom said, "They don't just disappear, they're just pulverized into smaller particles. When matter comes in contact with the void-core, it's just no more. It ceases to be. There's just nothing there for it react with, let alone sustain itself."

"There's GOT to be some connection," Dolph said, pointing his spanner at the core, "I mean, why else would this little concentrated mass be responsible for all of The Unwritten Ones' activities in this sector?"

"What about Zwicky?" Mitya suddenly piped up after being silent for a while, "Dark matter?"

Corso shook his head, "Different kind of matter, but still matter," he looked up from the bomb and stared into the core, "There's absolutely nothing in that core... nothing that wouldn't threaten to obliterate everything, at least." He looked the bomb over and slid part of it together with a resounding CLACK.

"Hallelujah, lock and load. Get in touch with command and tell them we're out in thirty."

"Not a moment too soon," Doom said, deactivating his multi-tool and pocketing it as the mountain shook again. The others watched as Dolph fiddled with the comm link for a good minute before saying, "S'no good. There's some interference--something about the mountain."

"Damn," Corso muttered, apparently thinking. He punched some keys on the bomb console, "Alright, new plan. Bomb's on a ten minute timer, so we've got to clear the mountain and set up the teleport beacon--"

The mountain shook again, harder this time, more violently, violent enough to knock the Warthogs off their feet. Dust and rocks fell. The bomb on its tripod threatened to topple over and Corso half-ran, half-crawled over to it to keep it from falling.

"Bob!" somebody yelled. Corso looked back to see part of the ceiling cracking and falling in, the dust swirling in the air, spinning past him and disappearing behind him into the void-core. When the shaking stopped and he stopped coughing, Corso could see by the faint light of his glow stick that the tunnel had been blocked with rocks. He was trapped in the cave with a giant, pulsating orb of nonexistence and a rather intimidating bomb strong enough and strange enough that it would collapse said void-core and, essentially, Corso himself.

"Bob! Bob! Corso!" the yells came faintly from the other side of the rock. Bob went to stand and his ankle sent a sharp stinging sensation through his leg, making its injury known in a very painful manner. Bob crawled over to the wall.

"ARE YOU GUYS ALRIGHT?!" The sound of his voice in the small cave sounded strange and made him nervous.

"We're fine!" came the reply, probably Dolph, "... getting you outta there!"

At first, Bob was ready to say there was no time, that The Unwritten Ones would be invading the planet soon and the others needed to evacuate before it was too late.

But then Bob decided the heroic death routine was overdone and he was ready to go home. Then he looked over at the bomb.

The digital display was now counting down.

Ah well, I've lived a good life... wait... shit... nevermind.

"GUYS!" he yelled, "THERE'S NO TIME! THE BOMB IS LIVE, REPEAT, BOMB IS LIVE!"

Silence on the other side, muffled conversation, distant rock scraping, faint shouting, "...say that--don't you fucking say that... listen... bullshit... we can't... no..."

"GET OUT!" Bob yelled, "STOP ARGUING AND GO!"

More faint noises, then silence, finally Dolph's voice--at least, he thought it was Dolph, it sounded weird, "I'm sorry, Bob... I'm so sorry..."

"I KNOW! I KNOW! NOW GO!"

"I'm sorrrrrryyyyy..." followed by some unintelligible yelling... then nothing. Silence. The mountain shook slightly, loosening some of the rocks and sending dust down on top of Corso, who laid back against the wall with a resounding sigh and glanced over at the bomb.

The readout said eight minutes. Bob flipped the bomb off and sighed again. He looked at the void core and he flipped that off with both hands, then sat back against the wall again and waited for the end to come.

----------

Klot slammed Joel against the wall of the ship, a hand around the demon's throat. Both men wore angry sneers.

"You pathetic worm," Klot spat, "You cost me my CAPTIVE!"

"Get your damn hands OFF ME!" Joel yelled, kneeing Klot in the gut and shoving him back with a foot, "You left without taking her with you! This is YOUR problem, not mine!"

"If you had not been BLINDED by your ignorance, you would have realized the angel had submitted to you--and you FAILED to act! You are a FOOL!"

"Shut the hell up!" Joel screamed, lunging for the black man. Klot dodged to the side and Joel hit the ground with a loud thudding sound.

"Stop it, both of you!" Kara yelled, "We don't have time for this! Plan A is bust--we‘ve got to prepare Plan B now!"

Breathing heavily, Joel sneered at Kara before throwing a hand in the air, "Fine. Just tell your old man to stop bitchin'."

When Klot spoke, the air rumbled with the sound of his words, "We will finish this later."

Nevin was sitting with his knees in the co-pilot's chair, watching over the back with great interest, "See? It's like the puppets, only better, yeah?!"

Kara gave Nevin an incredulous look before sighing and turning back to the ship's controls. Klot sat behind her as Joel crawled over to a back corner, knees pulled to his chest, and sulked.

----------

Oscar, Jon and Vinny were watching discreetly from the doorway to the infirmary where Aris was sitting at Aria's bedside.

"She's his ex... and she's the one who helped save you on Xurmaith?" Vinny asked.

Oscar nodded without looking away, "Yeah. I'm surprised she's still alive. I would've thought her dead, either in the fire or from being in Klot's custody, I don't know which is worse. I almost feel like we weren't meant to see her again, y'know?"

Jon looked over at Oscar with a hurt look, "What would make you say such a thing?"

"It's not like that Jon, it's just... I dunno, it's just a feeling," Oscar said, still watching as Aris tried using his magic to help along the healing process. "Things are just happening so fast now that we're so close to The End and it just seems like something that wasn't supposed to happen or that had little chance of happening HAS happened. I don't know if it's good or bad, but... I hope it's a good thing.

"Brother Oscar," Jon gestured, "How can you not believe this woman's rescue to be a good thing?"

"I never said it wasn't," Oscar replied, placing a hand on Jon's shoulder, "What I'm trying to say is that is this going to be another step towards the best possible outcome we could hope for? Or has this one moment started a chain of events that will inevitably lead us to something far worse?"

The three friends were quiet for a moment, lost in thought. Then Vinny spoke, "Well, for what it's worth, I think we're moving in the right direction. Don't suppose it would be too soon for me to say you seem to be doing a lot better, Osc?"

Oscar looked over at Vincit and smiled, "No, Vinny, I think it's safe to say I'm better now than I have been in a long time."

Vincit smiled and clapped Oscar hard on the shoulder, sending the angel slightly off-kilter, "That's definitely good news."

It was then that the trio noticed Aris walking over to them. He had a solemn look on his face.

"How does she fair?" Jon asked.

Aris looked back over his shoulder before turning to the others, "I've done all I can for her. Seems that whatever stasis Klot had her held in really messed her up, but she'll get better with time."

"If there's anything we can do, let us know," Vinny nodded.

"Actually," Aris said, "I was hoping I could go with you. I have a score to settle."

"What about Aria?" Oscar asked.

"Aria's in good hands. Besides, if she's alive, there's a chance my daughter is, too."

Vinny thought for a moment then nodded, "Alright. So long as you understand what you're getting yourself into. I think we'll need all the help we can get."

----------

"Colonel: Operation Noblesse Oblige is reporting in!"

Promotions came quickly in war, especially when entire fleets and their commanding officers were wiped out of existence by invading marauders in all their void-like glory. Colonel Adelais Aberdash was viewing one comm-feed from many in her current position on the front-line. On the main view screen, hundreds of Gamezohan fighters were moving against the ominous black ships of the invading monsters. She had specifically requested notification of the Warthogs mission status, as it would be imperative to send out the call to withdraw from the area surrounding Planet Tarsus prior to the void-core's destruction.

... but perhaps that wasn’t her only reason for wanting to be informed.

Adelais manipulated the GUI until the comm-feed was now the most prominent onscreen, "What's the status?"

The solemn faces of Doom, Adolphus and Dmitry appeared on screen (which is to say, Dolph and Mitya's faces were solemn, Doom still wore the metal mask which prevented his grave expression from showing). Doom coughed, "Bomb has been set with a timed detonation due to interference within mountain location, approximately five minutes remaining until detonation. Bob is..." He stopped. Adelais listened expectantly, already knowing the news would be bad. "...Specialist Corso was trapped in a cave-in with the bomb and the core. Extraction was not possible."

Years of training had given Colonel Aberdash a strict military rationale. There was no denying the tragic loss of Mr. Robert Corso, as he was one of the special strategists chosen to help in the location and destruction of the void-cores, and the loss of any soldier or brave Gamezohan citizen was disheartening, indeed. But in the face of death, Adelais had learned the importance of keeping a cool head and making smart decisions in times of war.

So it was that her face and voice were every bit of a militaristic air when she acknowledged the information and thanked the Warthogs for their update.

Then she contacted the Duke.

"Sir," she began, "Operation Noblesse Oblige has returned victorious but short one specialist."

Duke Ardashir ‘Victory’ Aberdash, father of Adelais and a decorated war hero of the Empire, sat on the bridge of the GENS Sigmund, a cup of Yggsadril tea resting on the armrest of his commander's chair. With an official style and a fashion similar to his own daughter, he nodded at his acknowledgement of the information, "They will be remembered for their sacrifice for the Empire. Withdraw all units and prepare for detonation."

"Sir," Adelais said quickly, yet in a completely professional manner, "Request permission to attempt extraction."

The Duke blinked, "Beg pardon?"

"Request permission to attempt extraction, sir."

"Nonsense! We can't afford to lose additional units--"

"I do not propose sending additional units, sir, I will go myself."

Ardashir blinked, "You can't be serious! You are responsible for the welfare of an entire fleet, Colonel, you can not abandon your post."

"Command will transfer to Lieutenant Colonel Dallas; he has proven his competence in wartime command."

"It is out of the question, Colonel, withdraw your troops immediately and rendezvous at the next waypoint."

"But father--"

"Withdraw, COLONEL," the Duke repeated, stressing his daughter's military rank firmly, "That is an order."

Adelais eyes darted between the image of her father, the digital timer display for the bomb, darting over the other screens before returning to look back at her father. A tense moment passed before her jaw became rigid and she spoke.

"Damn your orders."

The comm-feed died on a rather surprised Duke Aberdash. He blinked for a moment, ignoring the glances from the officers on deck as they prepared for his reaction. Then, in a move that took them all completely be surprise, he leaned back in his seat with his tea and smiled.

"'Atta girl."

----------

In the palace shipyard, a small group of people had gathered to send off the King and his ragtag group as they prepared to save the universe, according to Uziel, who was being unnecessarily dramatic; at least, Vincit thought so.

"I swear by my honor I will be with you in the final hours," Uziel bowed to Vincit, "Grave matters require my attention, but until my return, our gracious saint and brother Iochshephael will surely protect thee with all their might."

"Uh, yeah, whatever. Live long and prosper," Vinny said, scratching his head.

Nearby, Aris was standing, along with Windsong, Skysong, Thora, Jake and Guideau.

"I wanna know why I can't go!" Skai stamped a foot, clearly upset at being left behind, her frustration more than enough for herself and her older sister combined.

"Skai," Aris said, kneeling down, "I need to ask you a favor... a royal favor. I need you to stay here and help your sister take care of the kingdom while we're gone. We're going on a... political mission. A lot of boring talking and stuff. But if you can promise me you'll look after things here, I'll promise to take you out to the swamps of Lendauer to see if we can't find ourselves a couple Bloodtooth Gwarmps."

Skysong regarded Aris with a suspicious look, "You swear?"

Aris raised his hand, "On the balls of Bushthulhu." Then he extended his hand towards Skai, "We gotta deal?"

Skai paused a moment before smiling and shaking Aris' hand.

"Alright, kiddo. We'll be back before you know it."

Oscar was standing near the entryway and leaned over as Aris started walking up into the ship, "You're pretty good with kids."

Aris smirked and shrugged, "Naw, I'm just a damn good negotiator."

Oscar smiled. As he turned away, he noticed that Cobalt, Domenic and Leonhard walking towards him. The three came to a stop in front of the angel, standing in a parade rest stance.

"Uh, what's up, guys?"

"We have learned of your impending departure and wish to accompany you on your journey," Domenic said.

"Right," Oscar nodded slowly, still not yet used to the idea of being the owner of three rather advanced androids built by a woman he had accidentally killed. "Actually, I think it might be better if you guys stayed here--for protection. I want you three to assist Guideau de Sartoreus in the regular protection of Queen Windsong, the Princess Skysong and Mr. Jake Omnibus."

The three androids turned to look at the small group, where Vinny was now talking with Wyn.

"Yes," Oscar continued, talking partly to himself, "Yes, your mission... should you, uh, choose to accept it, is to follow the orders of their majesties and Mr. Omnibus until I contact you with further orders. Is that... acceptable?"

Cobalt turned and looked back an Oscar, a look on her face that appeared to be one of slight concern, "Are you sure, sir?"

Oscar was taken aback by the question. While there was nothing new about an android designed with a free will matrix, Oscar hadn't expected Cobalt to double-check his preference before accepting or refusing. It seemed there was something special to Unit Bleu--more so than he had first realized.

"Thank you for your concern," Oscar said sincerely, "But I feel the safety of the royal court while we're away is more important. I honestly appreciate your willingness to help me, and that's why I want you here, to keep an eye on things since I won't be able to."

Domenic and Leonhard exchanged glances before looking at Oscar again and nodding. Cobalt also nodded, "Understood, sir. Orders accepted. We will await your return."

Oscar sighed as he turned to walk into the J-Train, "Thanks guys. Be careful."

"You too," Cobalt suddenly said. Oscar jerked his head around and looked at Cobalt suspiciously, but her face held the same passive expression as her robotic comrades.

Still, there really was something unusual about her.

Vinny and Windsong's good-byes were brief, having said their "good-byes" earlier that evening. The two embraced quietly as Jake and Guideau pretended to be interested in other things.

"Take this with you," Wyn finally said, reaching into her gown. She pulled out a small glass-like orb.

"Yog!" Vinny smiled, taking the orb into his hands, "I can't believe I almost forgot it."

"S'okay," the orb buzzed casually, "Wouldn't be the first time."

Vinny winced. Windsong laughed softly before kissing him full on the lips one last time. Then she stepped back as Jake stepped forward.

"Vincit," Jake began, clapping two big, furry paws down on his son's shoulders, "I want you should know that the best years of my life were with you an' yer mom in Chicago."

Vinny faltered. He didn't know what to say.

"You know that your mother loved you, even after you left," Jake said, "And... I'm sorry I left when I did."

Vinny nodded, "I'm sorry I was such a pain in the ass, pop."

Jake chuckled, "I'm proud of ya, son."

Vincit started to speak, stopped, then nodded, "Thanks, pop."

Jake smiled and wrapped his massive arms around Vinny, "Be careful."

Vinny said nothing. After a hug from Skysong and a salute from Guideau, he was inside the J-Train with the others as it started to lift off. On the ground, Queen Windsong, Princess Skysong, Thora, Uziel, Guideau and Jake Omnibus stood along with the androids and a grouping of Wendauerians who waved and cheered as the ship rose higher into the air. An fighter escort went up with the J-Train as it made its way out of the palace shipyard and over the capital city.

Inside, Vinny was still looking out a window at the ground below. Oscar walked up behind him and put a hand on his shoulder, "You gonna be alright?"

Vinny let out a little laugh and smiled, "Yeah. I'll be fine. I just need a moment, that's all."

----------

Corso lay in the greenish glow of his glow stick, glancing occasionally at the readout only to see another minute tick away. Two minutes now. Two more minutes to think about life, the universe, and everything before he was destroyed--probably even erased from all existence in the process.

It occurred to Corso that if he became nonexistent in the process of the bomb collapsing the void-core, would his sacrifice even be recognized?

Damn, that was depressing.

Corso slowly turned his head away from the dark core and sighed. Then he swore at a sudden dislodging of dust that had fallen directly on his head. He was about to start screaming out of sheer frustration when the rocks of the cave-in began to shutter. The mountain rumbled.

Great. Not only am I going to get blown to pieces and likely vaporized, but the mountain is going to fall on me before it happens. Wonderful. I always thought I'd leave the Propellant in the most ass way possible.

When a few rocks fell away from the cave-in and a scaly claw pushed through the small gap, Bob nearly jumped, if it hadn’t been for his busted ankle.

Corso?!

Bob blinked as the voice sounded in his head and whispered, "No way…"

The rocks started to fall away quickly as two large claws started to push and pull rocks with increasing urgency. When the fierce-looking dragon head with violet-jeweled eyes finally pressed through the quickly widening gap in the rock fall, Bob was overcome more with relief than with fear.

"Adelais!"

Quickly! Grab on!

Bob leaned forward and wrapped his arms around the dragons snout. He winced as she pulled her head back through the rocks, dragging Corso and his busted ankle through the rubble and into the clear passageway on the other side. There was a moment as Adelais shifted into humanoid form, then she lifted Bob up in her arms as if he weighed a quarter of nothing and started a mad dash for the cavern entrance.

Outside, the sky was pitch black. It moved like a lava lamp, dark shapes undulating in the sky, preparing to descend upon the doomed planet. The two looked up for a moment before looking into each other’s eyes. Corso knew that, surrounded by the creatures of void, Adelais wouldn't have the ability to warp them both off-planet. Having come this far to rescue him, would she stay and die herself?

"You didn’t have to," Bob started.

"I know," Adelais said, staring into his eyes, "I know."

They were just about to kiss when the drop ship appeared from around the mountain, its lights shining down on them as it lowered itself toward the ground. Without hesitation, Adelais shifted into Battleform and jumped into the sky, her wings pushing them up into the open door of the ship, where they tumbled on the floor together. The door quickly closed and Adelais looked up and froze when she saw her father kneeling at her side.

"Are you alright?"

She was quiet for a moment, not understanding at first. But when she saw the concern mixed with relief in his eyes, she smiled slightly, embarrassed, "Yessir."

The Duke smiled warmly, placing a hand on her shoulder, then looked over at Bob, "And how about you, soldier?"

Corso's face was contorted in pain as he held his busted ankle, "I'm fine... everything's fine like wine--"

The drop ship shook suddenly from the shockwave of the bomb detonating, the rocky slopes of the mountain blowing upwards and outwards as the void-core was violently shattered and began to collapse. The inky blackness that filled the sky began to shimmer and ripple as The Unwritten Ones started to lose their power and dissipated...

... and the Empire ticks still.

----------

The Baronat of Halak had suffered many challenges throughout the decades, in wartime and peace, by those of good intentions and those of ill will. Even when the old Baron’s mechanizations became geared toward petty larceny, or when the Baron himself met his own death at the hands of Nike Gauss and her then lovers, Katje and Joel, the Barony managed to maintain itself.

But when Krystal Halak was killed, things pretty much went to hell in a hand basket.

The white-leaved oaks that had miraculously thrived outside of their Gamezohan home of The Silberwald had withered and died upon her death, maybe out of magic, maybe out of heartache. It had been reported that the dryads of The Silberwald, hundreds of light years away, mourned for a week straight so devastating was the loss.

Now, the bare, rotting, twisted branches were but a symbol of the Baronat’s sad state of affairs since Pyrite found himself alone and ruling. Not only had the Barony suffered, but so did the prince who had found himself on the throne at the humanoid equivalent of age fifteen. His hatred for Wernher Gauss had festered inside him like the derelict and dilapidated palace and the city that extended beyond it.

Yet redemption had helped bring reason to the distraught Pyrite, and he eventually returned to the Barony to serve his people and prepare his militia for the inevitable onslaught of The Unwritten Ones. He had seen them for himself. He knew the odds were against them all. If the Empire of Gamezoha, with its myriad militaristic forces, it's mind-numbingly powerful weapons and it's strategic eggheads, couldn’t stop the advancing enemy, the Barony would certainly be no match. It was just plain stupid to think otherwise.

And yet, Pyrite prepared. Perhaps, despite her death, the spirit of Krystal Halak lived on in some way, either in the hidden beauty of the cold, dark palace or in the hearts of the people who had so cherished her, including her brother... ESPECIALLY her brother. What other reason could he be motivated to take arms against the all-consuming horde? There was nothing to hope for. Halak would finally fall for good. All there was left to do now was sit and wait for something to happen.

So with The End steadily approached and the people prepared for their inescapable fate, Pyrite was rather surprised to hear that the King of Wendauer had arrived and was requesting immediate audience with the young prince concerning a matter of grave importance.

The fae prince had only seen Vincit Omnibus at the gathering of villains, when the attempt to torture and destroy the four responsible for Salyra’s first death had been thwarted by Lucius Block and the sister Assumpta. Pyrite had a sickening feeling that Omnibus might not be happy with him at all, but why would the Wendauerian King travel thousands of light years to meet with the leader of a Barony doomed to impending destruction? In the end, Pyrite’s curiosity and reason got the best of him and he met Vincit and his entourage.

... in the courtyard of the dead oaks.

Vincit, Jon, and Oscar were regarding one of the trees now. Jon had a hand on one of the trunks, its bark peeling as the wood slowly rotted away.

"It’s hard to believe," Oscar muttered as his wings twitched slightly. He and Vinny were looking up at the whitened, dead branches of the oak against the dark, rolling clouds, an omen of darker things to come. "We haven’t been away for a very long time, but none of this looks familiar… none of it."

"Indeed, much has changed," Pyrite spoke. The three turned at the sound of his voice. Pyrite looked healthier than he had when they had last seen him, but the dark circles still ringed his eyes, betraying the weakened state of his soul. As a fae, he would have been promised a life longer than a normal humanoid, but darker things had moved against his physiology. While he could certainly outlast the average humanoid, he could not now hope to live as long as most of his kind. Not that it mattered now.

"I’m sorry to keep you waiting," he continued, "What is it that has brought you here?"

Vinny stepped forward, "We need you to help us find a way to Palantenna."

Pyrite’s eyes widened, "You can’t be serious."

"Don’t question me, kid," Vinny replied, "I know what I’m askin’. Either you can help us or we’re wasting our time."

"Mortals are not allowed within our sacred home," Pyrite stated strongly, "Besides, getting there is not as easy as you think."

"We know that," Oscar said, "We know about the telluric bubble--"

"It’s more complicated than that," Pyrite interrupted, "Even we fae cannot simply come and go as we please. Those of us who can manage the Transference often do not return to tell the others of its secret--and many perish. It will be impossible for mortals to attempt such a feat."

"What about STARCorp?" Oscar asked, "Are there any hidden slipgates?

Any way to move between the Baeulse?’

"No, none at all... I think..." Pyrite glanced down, appearing to be lost in thought.

"What is it?" Vinny questioned.

"I have no certainty at all, but I... I recall a lullaby I once learned as a child… a rhyme I thought to be pure fantasy, but... well, it cannot POSSIBLY be true... can it?"

"Canst thou recall it?" Jon asked, "Perhaps there is a secret within it."

Pyrite shook his head, "It's just a fairy tale. There’s no guarantee it exists--and besides, running away to Palantenna would do you no good--as mortals you could not hope to live there longer than a few weeks and The Unwritten Ones would find it eventually--"

"We’re not running away," Vincit said sternly, "We’re trying to stop Moebius from destroying the universe."

Pyrite regarded the three for a moment. Had the story been true? Was there really such a direct path to Palantenna? And if there were, would they find it in time? Could these three be trusted with its secret?

"Please," Jon added after a moment, "If thou can help in any way, for the sake of the universe..."

Pyrite nodded finally, "The library." Vincit and the others followed him out of the crumbling courtyard and inside the darkened palace.

----------

Within the enlightened halls of the .br Temple of Sol, the home of T3h Buddha which exists within nontime, Anaxerretibes was preparing to take a tea break from performing his sitar composition Dribe Eerf, which, coincidently, happened to be the tune of Free Bird backwards.

"Greetings to you," Anaxerretibes spoke just as Jacob Syne was entering the vault.

"I'm sorry, what was that?" Syne asked.

"I said what's up in the hizzy?" T3h Buddha smiled. The teapot before him, its contents steaming, lifted itself into the air and began pouring the tea into two floating cups. The tea itself split in pour, the two branches flowing cleanly into each cup.

"I wanted to talk to you about The End," Syne said stepping forward and sitting down on one of the beanbags that T3h Buddha gestured to.

"Oh, so you say you want to talk about The End," Anaxerretibes smiled, "Which raises the question: milk or sugar?"

"Lemon," Syne replied curtly.

Anaxerretibes smile broadened, "Rightly so. What, about The End, do you wish to talk about?"

"How long will nontime be safe from Eçaraia?" Syne asked.

"A wise question," T3h Buddha replied, "And asked appropriately. Nothing is safe from Eçaraia--oblivion threatens all. As you no doubt realize, the events that are unfolding are happening on a vital quantum point as to effect all its parallel brethren."

"A highly unlikely scenario," Syne commented.

"Word," Anaxerretibes nodded, "But when the improbable and the impossible cross paths, they tend to generate an instance of Very Damn Likely. As a lawyer, you should know this. Have you ever played Jenga?"

"No, but I've heard of it," Syne replied, accepting the teacup as it floated into his hand.

Playing Jenga with Anaxerretibes sucks.

Anaxerretibes took a sip from his own cup, "No one ever wants to play me at Jenga. I can't understand why. You know how the game is played--you take a brick from each level and move it to the top and each person takes turns until somebody pulls the wrong brick and everything comes crashing down."

"Are you saying that all the quantum universes make up one big ass Jenga stack and if this one falls, all the others fall with it?"

"What?! No, no--I just LOVE to play Jenga, but nobody ever wants to play me!"

"... oh..."

Anaxerretibes looked over towards his sitar, wondering if it would play Jenga with him, when the tea cup accidentally toppled from his hand and hit the floor with a sudden crack, parts of the china cup scattering everywhere, tea splattering outwards. Both Syne and T3h Buddha looked over at the remains of the shattered teacup, staring at it as if it were the oddest thing they had ever seen.

"Well," T3h Buddha said, his voice suddenly very grave, "That... has never happened before."

----------

While the outside of Palace Halak was in bad disrepair, the library was actually well-maintained. Vinny was leaned back in a chair, feet propped up on a table while Jon and Oscar browsed the shelves. Pyrite was up on a rolling ladder, going through the many volumes of literature, searching.

"Found it!" he exclaimed, jumping down from the ladder with a reasonably large book in his hand. Jon and Oscar wandered over to the table as Pyrite walked over and, rather unceremoniously, shoved Vincit’s feet off the table and set the book down. Vinny shot the fae an annoyed glance before deciding it wasn’t worth getting into a squabble about and pulled his chair up to the table.

"It’s a copy of an old book of fairy tales and lullabies written by Izanami Sawarren."

"Sawarren?" Oscar echoed, "As in House Sawarren?"

"The same," Pyrite responded, flipping through the pages, "The orange dragons are probably better known for their abundance in humor and spontaneity. Izanami was notorious for recording her flights of fancy… nobody would take it seriously, though--I certainly wouldn’t... but if there's any chance of a way to Palantenna existing..."

Pyrite turned the book to face the others and pointed at the title of a poem.

"Die Versteckte Weise," Jon read, "The Hidden Way."

"You surprise me, knight. The language is foreign to me--I only recall reading it for its beauty, but perhaps if you were to translate, we can better understand what Izanami was trying to tell us."

Jon moved the book closer and began to translate the German as best he could. There was a strangeness to the writing that he could only attribute to the draconic nature of the poem, but with some patience, the paladin managed to decipher the writing.

Long fall the stars on this ground,
A gentle whisper, quiet sound,

The dark and dust and lightless night,
Brings to my eyes a vivid sight,

Without warning, without care,
A thunderous noise that fills the air,

The fabric rips the sky in twain,
A silver jewel shines bright again,

Beyond all sight, the darkest round,
To search is folly, it can’t be found,

The more you seek with all your might,
The more you will not see it right,

Yet ‘tis within hopeless despair,
That one may find the right way there,

Palantenna, the home of the fae,
Can be reached by the hidden way.

"Okay," Vinny said, leaning back, "What does it mean?"

Pyrite seemed to be lost in thought again, "Silver jewel. I wonder if perhaps they mean The Sidhe Anklet?"

Oscar blinked, "The Shee Anklet?"

"Sidhe," Pyrite corrected, "It is a lost artifact of the fae. Some said it was rumored to be the key to reaching Palantenna, but it was lost many, MANY years ago--we could never hope to find it so soon."

"Well, we’ve got to try," Vinny stood up from the table and looked at the young fae, "Can you come with us?"

"Me?" Pyrite blinked, "Why?"

"We need your help if we’re gonna find this place. Listen," Vinny stepped forward, his expression softening, but there was a strength behind his voice that demanded full attention, "If we don’t find this place and unlock that Pyramid, the whole universe is going to be destroyed; there’s nothing that can fight back against Eçaraia but that. I understand the obligation you feel towards your people--I know, I've had to deal with it myself," Vinny put a hand on Pyrite’s shoulder, "But if you help us, and we can do this... we might be able to save everyone. Your people, my people, the whole universe. Maybe even your sister."

Pyrite flinched. He had grieved that Salyra had turned his sister’s soul into the dangerous being known as The Tinfoil Lady--that she had suffered and had been made to suffer for as long her soul endured. He couldn’t stand the thought of her existing like that any longer.

"When do we leave?"

"Right now."

----------

Planet Ryjun, the Ticine ship docks. Whutty was making his way down a corridor. He had been reading excerpts from The Zombie Survival Guide and shaking his head. Who would’ve thought the hours and hours of zombie survival training would go to waste in this, The End. He recalled Gauss had had a run-in with a army of zombies in the midst of his Eighteenth Trial.

All thought was interrupted by a single voice.

"Hey, you."

Whutty froze.

Oh-no.

It’s 'her'.

He turned around. Standing in the corridor, having just come around an adjacent corner, Chromelips, lead singer of ChromeDome, and Ricardus von Sphexoren’s on-again, off-again... thing. To describe his relationship with the rock icon was complicated. She was complicated. The whole bloody thing was complicated.

It made Whutty’s stomach ache just thinking about it.

He could feel the pain move up his chest and into his throat as she stepped forward now, with the slight saunter that she was known for, the way her hips swayed, her low-ride leather pants accented by the movement. A guy could’ve been shot through the heart and not realize he was dead.

"They told me you were leaving," she said, "Said you were going away and never coming back." She stopped just in front of him, her head tilted slightly to look up at him. He felt the knot in his chest tighten further.

"Is it true?" she asked, and for a moment, her eyes gave away her vulnerability, "Are you never coming back?"

Whutty didn’t reply. He couldn’t.

He didn’t need to. She knew the answer.

She knew it all along--knew that Whutty, in his infinite melancholy, would never find happiness in this world. Not alone. Not with anyone. Not even with her.

She looked down and let out a hard breath, a nervous laugh to ease her nerves. When she looked up she was solid again, firm, confident, "You do what you have to do."

"It’s dhe only dhing I know fer sure."

The two stood facing each other for a moment, then she wrapped her arms around him and kissed him. Dumbstruck at first, he finally responded in kind. And when they finally broke their embrace, it had ended all too soon.

One last caress, then she was turning around, walking away, the sway in her hips still alluring, yet somehow less pronounced as before. Whutty wanted to say something more, but couldn’t find the words. He wanted to stop time and stay with her. But The End was coming.

And before he knew it, she was gone.

It was a hard pill to swallow as he turned and headed for the hanger.

----------

In the small, white-walled lounge of the J-Train, Aris, Miriam and Pyrite were looking at a holo-screen with Izanami’s book of fairy tales laid open on the desk.

"Falling stars, darkest round, lightless night… the more I read this," Aris mused, "The more I keep thinking the poem is talking about an asteroid of some kind."

"Titania," whispered Pyrite.

"What?"

"Titania," Miriam said, seeming to access the infinite stores of knowledge she was capable of accessing suddenly spoke, "The mythical queen of the fae, so named because it was thought she was descended from the Greek Titans. But this is the mythology of Old Earth."

"Silly Earthling myths," Pyrite muttered, "Titania is a sacred site for the fae. It is unlikely mortals have walked upon its surface because of its size; to their simple minds, it looks, for all intents and purposes, like an asteroid."

"Right," Aris nodded, frowning, "Remind my 'simple mind' never to confuse obtuse poetry about an asteroid-like object for an actual asteroid."

The data on the holo-screen changed as the J-Train's computer blipped up a data entry on Titania. "Here we go," the ship chriped, "Largest asteroid in the outer rim of the Gamezohan systems and... heh, get this: it's a 'dwarf' planet."

Pyrite gave the others a confused look, "Is your ship always this--"

"Yes," both Aris and Miriam said, in unison.

Miriam typed some commands into the computer, "I'm sending the coordinates to Assumpta. Vincit and the others should be updated."

"Will its location take us closer to the battle?" Aris asked.

"No," Miriam replied, without looking up from the holo-screen, "It's location within the outer belt is in an opposing direction. We should be fine for a while, until The Unwritten Ones reach the heart of the Empire, at least."

----------

A shimmering blanket of stars provided the backdrop for Titania. Considered a sacred spot by elder elves, the remarkably small planet had few visitors, as the religious practice the pilgrimage through space to the Pillar of Oberon had become less and less pronounced over the centuries, despite the claim that the tower of rock was said to hold some sacred connection to Palantenna.

But in most cases, a lot of stupid things were said to hold connections to Palantenna which actually had little to do with the mysterious planet beyond the telluric boundaries, so even the Pillar of Oberon, in all its beauty, was eventually regarded by younger generations of fae to be nothing more than ordinary rock.

The asteroid itself featured treacherous terrain: craggy, jagged cliffs and chasms. The harsh environment made Titania a place where few ever visited. And those who did didn't stay for long.

The starry sky was pierced by the sudden appearance of a large red ship. Vinny, Jon, Oscar, Miriam, Assumpta and Pyrite were crowding the cockpit as the J-Train began its decent to the planet's surface.

"Conditions are stable," the J-Train reported, "I'm getting a little hot under the collar--looks like there might actually be enough atmosphere down there for you guys to breath."

The passengers watched through the viewing window as the J-Train passed over the rocky surface, the ground appearing to be a violent ocean frozen in time, the rock formations seeming to want to reach up towards the red spaceship.

"The Pillar of Oberon is the only feature of interest," Pyrite spoke, "If Titania does indeed hold the key to Palantenna, we would find it there."

Suddenly, one of the J-Train's computers started beeping.

"What's that?" Vinny asked.

The J-Train beeped, "Unidentified ship headed this way--straight toward us and coming up fast. Really fast."

The others struggled to see the actual ship while Assumpta and Miriam tapped at computers to get a digital assist.

"It's them," Oscar said.

"What?" Vinny asked as he continued to squint.

"It's Joel and the others! They're coming in for an attack! Take evasive action!"

"Wait, how do you know THAAAA--" Vinny fell backwards as Assumpta jerked the controls, the J-Train pitching to the right. Instantly, alarms went off throughout the ship.

"Guns!" the J-Train yelled, "They're SHOOTING at us!"

The laser blasts barely missed the J-Train as the ship spun out of the way and zipped dangerously close to one of the craggy outcroppings. The laser fire continued, missing the red spacecraft as it swerved to avoid another rock formation and started to ascend back up.

"We're sitting ducks out here," Aris said.

"Switching power to rear shields," Miriam said, tapping buttons on the control panel.

"We can't land under these conditions," Oscar said, holding on to the back of Assumpta's chair, "We've got to shake 'em somehow."

"Doesn't this thing have guns?" Aris asked desperately.

"Guns?" the J-Train queried, "Whatever does he think I am, a Sopwith Camel?!"

Suddenly, the J-Train rocked violently as a laser blast hit below the tail end of the ship, causing lights to flicker and sending sparks flying from one of the control panels.

"I've been shot!" the J-Train wailed, "Direct hit to the p-p-power core! Hu-How?"

Joel, Oscar thought. He closed his eyes. Everything Josephus de Viaminima had known about his spaceship had transferred to both Oscar and Joel.

"We're goin' down!" Assumpta yelled, fighting with the ship's controls.

"Quick!" Oscar turned to exit the cockpit, "This way!"

The others scrambled after Oscar as he ran back into the small lounge area of the J-Train. The angel tapped a few buttons on a nearby console and slapped the touch screen when the large red "EMERGENCY" button flashed up. Instantly, an entire wall of the lounge rolled open, revealing four small tube-like pods big enough to hold two people each.

"Get in," Vinny said without hesitation, grabbing Pyrite and pushing him into a pod. The door slid shut and with a loud woosh, disappeared into the floor. Aris was the next to go. As Vinny unceremoniously shoved Jon into the third pod, the knight hesitated.

"What about you?" Jon asked.

"Shut up and get in!" Vinny yelled, pushing him in and reaching for Oscar.

"No way!" Oscar yelled, "This ain't happening!"

"Get in or I'll throw you in!"

"VINNY!" Oscar exclaimed, grabbing him by the head and staring intently into his eyes, "... trust me."

A few nervous seconds passed before Vinny finally looked over at the pods and wedged himself in next to Jon.

"Alright," Vinny said, "Hurry up!" And with a woosh, they were gone.

Oscar ran back into the cockpit where Assumpta was still struggling with the J-Train's failing controls. Miriam looked up from her shaking seat as the angel stumbled into the small cockpit. She nodded knowingly to Oscar. Miriam's physiology made her nearly invincible. But there was no guarantee Assumpta would survive.

"C'mon," Oscar grabbed Assumpta by the arm, "We gotta go."

"But the ship--"

"It's fine! Come on!" Oscar repeated, pulling the nun towards the exit. He paused briefly and looked through the windows. The ship was getting closer to the ground, even as Miriam took control and tried to keep the J-Train from falling right out of the sky.

"I'm sorry, b-b-boss," the J-Train stuttered, sparks flying from a nearby wall console.

"Me too," Oscar said softly, "Me too."

"Whatta ya sta-sta-standin' around here for?" the ship suddenly squawked, "G'wan! She c-c-can't take much more of thi-thi-this, cap'n!"

Oscar smiled sadly as he and Assumpta stumbled back into the lounge just as the ship was rocked with another internal explosion. She yelped with surprise when Oscar wrapped his wings around her and the two fell back into the pod, the door sliding shut. The pod jettisoned soon after, falling towards the surface of the planet. With luck, the impact cocoons inside each pod would protect them as it fell from the sky to imbed itself in the ground below.

"Activating distress be-be-beacon! S-O-S! S-O-S! Is there a doc-doc-doctor in the house?!"

The J-Train streaked across the night sky, flames shooting out behind it, leaving a smoky trail in its wake.

"It's been nice nuh-nuh-knowing ya, lady," the ship beeped.

"Thank you for your help," Miriam said, placing a hand on the console.

The J-Train clipped a rocky spire, sending its peak to the ground below.

"YEEE-E-E-E-EE-HAW!"

The red ship plowed into the ground, fins ripping off from its hull, sharpened rocks digging into its metal flesh, sparks flying as it scraped across the rocky floor. Superpolymer glass shattered, circuits short-circuited, metallic grinding and snapping sounds echoed through the ravines. There was another explosion as the power core finally burst, parts of the J-Train went flying in all directions, and the battered craft skidded to a stop along the ground.

----------

Pyrite coughed as he shoved the hatch off his pod and pulled himself out of the impact cocoon. He climbed over the edge of the pod and stepped out on the rocky, dusty ground. Titania: a sacred icon of the fae; who would've thought it could be such an unforgiving, desolate place.

Not too far away, he could see Aris clambering out of his escape pod with as much difficulty as he himself had encountered. The elf prince approached and arrived in time to help Aris out onto solid ground.

"Are you alright?" Pyrite asked.

"Never better," Aris coughed, "You?"

"I've been through worse," the elf turned and looked in the direction he could only assume to be the crash site of the J-Train, smoke billowing up into the air, "The others must be this way."

As menacing as the rocky surface of Titania appeared to be, the walk across it was far worse. Unnaturally sharp rocks threatened to slice flesh. The uneven surface made the going slow. Eventually, the two reached another pod where Vincit Omnibus and Jonathan Krigsley were waiting, looking around at the desolation. They turned as Aris kicked a loose rock from its perch and jumped down to the ground.

"Everyone alright?" Vinny asked.

"More or less," Aris replied, "Where's feathers?"

"Probably closer towards the ship impact--at least, he'd better be. Let's keep moving."

Within the impact cocoon of emergency pod four, Oscar still had his wings around Assumpta. Both had been knocked out from the fall, but the nun was rousing. As she came to in the darkness of the pod, she could feel the angel's arms around her and she started suddenly, uncertain. The design of the pods did not allow for much room or movement. Being so close to Oscar was a strange feeling she couldn't explain. Hearing him breathing softly, his chest moving against her hands, his wings enveloping the two of them, she felt vulnerable and safe at the same time.

He had been through so much. Would he ever be the same soul she once fell for?

The angel took a sharp intake of breath. He was awake. She felt his hands move up her back.

"Are you okay?" he spoke softly, his voice sounding strangely soothing.

"Aye," Assumpta said.

The two were quiet for a moment, looking in the darkness of the cocoon into eyes that couldn't see. As if by magic, a soft green glow illuminated the pod, bathing the two in pale green light. They remained looking at each other until Oscar finally moved.

"Um, I've been meaning to talk to you about how I've been acting recently," he said, "I wasn't myself but I remember pushing you away whenever you tried to help... and I'm sorry."

Assumpta closed her eyes and lowered her head, "All is forgiven."

Oscar blinked, "Are you serious? I mean, just like that?"

Assumpta looked back up and smiled slightly, "I've practiced forgiveness for a long time, fair angel. Sounds to me perhaps you'll be needing to learn how to forgive yourself."

Oscar smiled in return and squeezed the nun tightly, "Thank you. I'm trying."

They stayed like that for a moment until Oscar spoke, "We need to get out of this thing and find the others--can you reach the release on the hatch? It's behind me."

"Oh, yes," Assumpta said, pulling her hands down between the both of them and slowly snaking them between the impact cocoon and Oscar's ribs, "Where is it, exactly?"

"Poking me right in the middle of my back."

...

"Ouch."

"Sorry."

"It's alright."

...

"What are ye doing?"

"Sorry... I'm ticklish."

"Ah. I see..."

"Why are you smiling?"

"Nothing."

...

"Up higher. Much, much higher."

"Oh dear me--"

"S'okay."

...

"Oscar--"

"Sorry... I'm sorry..."

"'Tis flattering... but this is neither the time nor the place--"

"--of course--"

"--yes--"

"--absolutely--"

"--agreed."

...

"You smell nice--"

"'Ere 'tis."

"--oh, thank God."

----------

It took some grueling travel, but our heroes finally came upon the wreckage of the J-Train, it's formerly shiny red exterior now a mangled mess of metal. They found Miriam sitting on a nearby rocky shelf and walked over. Oscar passed by, continuing to the remains of the ship, followed by Vinny and Assumpta.

"Are you alright?" Miriam asked Jon.

"We are unharmed. You?"

"It was pretty bad, but you know me," she smiled slightly.

Nearby, Oscar walked about the still flaming wreckage where a part of the dirty red hull lay on the ground, the J-Train logo scratched and barely legible. He surveyed the crash site. A giant gash ran along the port side of the ship, ripping it apart like a tin can.

Vinny stepped up and put a hand on his the angel's shoulder, "I'm sorry, Osc."

"So am I," he replied with a sigh, "It was a good ship... but if I built it once, I can build it again. The more important thing is that everyone's alright," he finished, looking at Assumpta, who smiled in return.

Vinny smirked, "That's the old Oscar I remember. Course, you realize that we don't have a ship now."

"Yeah, I know. I'm hoping the J-Train wasn't too messed up to be unable to send the distress signal--"

"But we won't need rescuing if we can find this hidden path or whatever, right?" Aris said, walking up.

"He's right," Vinny nodded, "Let's find this portal right now."

"According to the final coordinates," Pyrite said, looking at his digital wrist CPU, "We need to head about fifteen kilometers northeast."

Oscar nodded, "Better get going, then."

And the going was rough. With no defined roads or paths to travel, the jagged rocks of Titania made it difficult crossing. What the group couldn't scale or cross, they were often forced to walk around. After three hours of the brutal terrain, the group came upon something unusual.

"Whoa," Vinny said, stepping around a jagged wall of rock. The others slowly came up behind him to behold what he saw.

"It's all flat," Assumpta said. Indeed, they had wandered into a large sort of clearing, where the once surging ground was now flattened, the grain of the minerals waving slightly, but compared to the hazardous crossing that lay behind them, this was a welcome change.

A kilometer away, in the dead center of the flat cropping, a tall pillar stood, a striking obelisk in the middle of a slate sea.

The Pillar of Oberon.

"Is that it?" Jon asked.

"Well," Vinny squinted, "Seeing how it's the most unusual thing we've come across since we first crashed, I'd say the odds are pretty damn good."

Oscar and Jon exchanged glances before the angel stepped forward, "Let's go."

Crossing the expanse went quickly, although the heroes felt rather vulnerable in the open. Somewhere in the dark sky above, the ship that had been responsible for shooting them down was still flying, probably searching for the same thing they were, if not the heroes themselves. Time was of the essence.

"Alright," Vinny said, looking over his shoulder at Pyrite, "We're here. Now what do we do to activate this portal?"

Pyrite blinked, "Do you really expect me to know? I only just learned about the hidden way from a book of fairy tales--I have no way of knowing how to open the doorway."

"Whoa, hold on, what's all this about not knowing how to open the doorway?" Aris said, holding up a hand, "I thought this was a no-brainer."

"I only think the poem speaks of the Sidhe Anklet, but that artifact is thought to be myth--it could be anywhere--or it could not exist at all."

Vinny turned and shot a glance at Miriam, but she shook her head, "There exists some old fae mythology involving the anklet, but the last reported sighting was a few centuries ago during a war. Its existence has not been confirmed."

Oscar had walked over to study the pillar more closely as the others continued to talk. Jon and Assumpta stood by warily as the discussion bordered on argument and prayed things wouldn't come to blows.

"Oscar!" Vinny barked, "Do you see anything on that rock?"

Oscar looked up and shook his head, "There's some strange carvings--maybe in an old elven language--but I don't see any doorways or etchings or impressions. I don't know what to make of it."

Vinny closed his eyes, "To search is folly, it can't be found... Yog damnit..."

The orb in his pocket buzzed, "I heard that."

Vinny pulled the strange orb from his pocket and held it up, "Yog! Do you know anything about this hidden way?"

The orb was quiet. No noise or sound, just a strange, dim color that seemed to float deep within the blackness of the ball. When it spoke, the color seemed to shimmer brightly before fading again, "It is beyond my sight."

"Great," Vinny sighed, looking pissed, "We're stranded on this damn rock with no clue how to open this doorway and no way to contact help--things couldn't POSSIBLY get any worse."

The ground erupted in the middle of the group, throwing everyone outward from the explosion. As the smoke began to clear, shadows became more prominent in the crater where our heroes once stood.

"Well, well, well, what have we here?"

Vinny coughed as he sat up, bits of slate falling off his coat. He frowned as he looked up, "Klot."

Nearby, Oscar sat up, expressionless, "Joel."

A few feet ahead of them, Aris sat up, squinting, "Kara?"

The last of the smoke and dust blew away, revealing Klot and Kara, vampire father and daughter, followers of DAMOCLES, standing before our heroes with unmitigated gall. Behind them, floating on pure evil, was Joel Diablo, Oscar's evil twin and a thorn in everyone's side. And above them all, their ship, the same ship responsible for shooting the J-Train out of the sky.

"What do you want?" Vinny growled.

"Straight to business. I like that," Klot smiled malevolently, "We want the elf prince and that wretched anomaly of DAMOCLES."

Everyone turned and looked over at Miriam, who was kneeling by Assumpta, using her nanobots to heal a wound on the warrior nun's arm. She turned and looked quizzically at Klot who stared back at her with hollow eyes.

Jon suddenly stood up, unsheathing his sword and arming his buckler, "You will not have her," he said through gritted teeth, his voice harsh enough that it took Vinny by surprise.

Klot smiled, "Oh, I rather think I shall."

"I will be dead before she is yours!"

"Jon!" Miriam yelled, concern in her voice.

"Indeed, you shall," Klot sneered at Jon and raised a hand. The ground between the two erupted with the Black Flame and when it was extinguished, a young girl was standing between Klot and the saint, carrying a familiar sword that appeared far too large for her.

Jon blinked. Oscar gasped, "No."

"What is it?" Vinny asked.

"It's my DAUGHTER!" Aris exclaimed, jumping up, "Amaya!"

The girl did not respond. She stood still, her hair falling in front of her face, shielding her eyes, the sword hanging limply from her hand.

"What have you done to her?!" Aris yelled.

"She is mine, Ariston," Klot sneered, "The secret revealed. She alone holds the power that will be the boar's destruction."

The others looked at each other, uncertain, but Miriam understood Klot's mean