CM Aeris: I should be shot for starting another crossover before I finished the other one… but I have no clue how Final Fantasy IV triggered an urge for me to write a Batman and Final Fantasy X crossover… Enjoy!
Lost Reaper
Chapter One
"You no longer have a place in this world," whispered Heretic as he dealt the final blow into Damian's chest.
Blue eyes widened under his mask as Damian choked on silent words. His fist weakly tried for a last punch, but falls short as he body slumps in a boneless heap at his clone's feet.
"Robin!" shouted Batman.
Damian could faintly hear his father's voice, but the growing pool of blood under him dulled most of his senses second by second. It wasn't long before his vision finally slipped and he drifted off in a sea of pain. He had no illusion that his wounds were nothing but mortal. He knew well enough from all the times he was incapacitated from explosions and severed spines. Nothing in short of a dip in the lazarous pit will keep him from death's door.
Rage filled his darkness. He was angry his time with his father was so short, furious that it was his clone that ended him. He wanted to do more, experience more. He wanted more time. He wants to live!
"…I don't want to disappear," whispered Damian as he drifted.
"Ie, yu, i…" An eerie song broke through the endless darkness.
Who was singing? Where was it coming from?
"Nobo, me, nu…" sung the dark voice.
Damian struggled to open his eyes, but saw nothing in the vast darkness. The searing pain from his injuries dulled as the dark song whispered in his ears.
"Ren, mi, ri…"
"Who's there?" rasped the boy wonder.
"You are a strong child," whispered a stranger different from the singer, his voice deep and daunting.
"What do you want?" demanded Damian weakly.
"You want to live, don't you?" asked the voice.
A rough chortle escaped Damian's lips. "Are you the devil offering me a second chance?"
"Why yes," replied the voice. "But you may call me Chaos."
Whatever answer he expected, that wasn't it. "… I thought the devil lures its victims a more roundabout way."
"Would you have fallen for it even if I did so?" noted Chaos.
The silence spoke volumes.
"What do you want for payment?" asked Damian wryly. "My sound isn't worth owning, it's already damned to hell. If it does exist, I'll be there anyway, why waste your time?"
The entity chuckled. "I'm not interested in your soul."
Damian raised a brow.
"I need an emissary in the world of the living."
"What for?" frowned Damian. "There are plenty of damned souls coming from my mother's machinations. Do you really need another puppet to lure more idiots to your fold?"
"Not your world," drawled Chaos. "Another where the cycle of life and death is disrupted and the souls of the damned remains walking among the living."
"And what do you want me to do there?" asked Damian.
"You're a smart child," whispered Chaos with mirth.
Damian snorted. "You want those elusive souls."
"Good, good. What else?"
The boy wonder mulled over the information. It was obvious the devil wanted him as a servant, but this was also a second chance at life. The chance of his father reviving him with the lazarous pit was unlikely considering his unwillingness to cheat death. If he didn't take this chance, his death may be permanent.
"…If I serve you," started the boy cautiously. "Would I be able to return to my own world?"
He could feel the air shift as if the dark entity was delighted by his question. "Of course, as long as you serve me. It is negotiable."
Damian grew silent. Negotiable?
"You don't have much time. If you don't decide soon, you'll fade into the darkness."
"… I have two conditions," started the boy slowly.
"Oh?" mused Chaos. "Are you sure you're in a position to haggle?"
"Better oblivion than a mindless slave for eternity," reasoned Damian.
Chaos cackled. "Very well, what are your conditions?"
"First, I want to return to my world while my family is still well and living when I'm finished with whatever task you're having me do. There is no point in returning if they are dead. Second, I may agree to serve you, but decisions are mine and mine alone. I will not be a mere pawn."
A chill went up his spine as the entity bellowed into another fit of laughter. "You'll find soon enough there are very few things you would be willing to defy me in. As for returning to your own time, easily done. If that's all you ask for, then who am I to deny such a request? However, there are certain souls that you will not have any say in the matter. The souls of Yunalesca and Yevon are not optional. These two have escaped my grasp for long enough."
"I'm presuming they are the source of the soul disruption," noted Damian.
"Do gather any stray or lost souls while you're at it," drawled Chaos.
"With what means?" asked Damian. "I doubt in my current state, I could retrieve souls."
"Clever, clever boy," chuckled Chaos. "Your body will be healed the moment you arrive in the other world. A reaping tool will be provided for your task."
Damian frowned. "It can't possibly be that simple."
"Obviously, only few souls would accept death without a fight. You will need to kill them a second time before you can capture them. Of course, if you die in the process of reaping, I will require you to obtain an innocent soul per death."
"Or else?" questioned Damian.
"Must you ask the obvious?" mused Chaos.
"Or else?" grounded out the boy. "I'm not so foolish to simply assume."
Chaos sighed. "If you fail to do so, I will release one of my minions into your world. Who it will feast on first, I'm quite sure I don't need to spell it out for you."
Damian gritted his teeth. "And what tool am I using exactly? A scythe?"
"Don't be clichéd, boy," harrumphed Chaos. "A scythe would cut right through these pathetic souls. No, you will be using a staff."
"…A staff," said Damian in a deadpan, not a weapon he desired to use, considering it was Tim Drake's primary choice of weapon.
"You may use other means to kill your targets if you must, but ultimately, the staff must be used to capture these souls."
Damian could care less about the methods; he was trained in various weapons throughout his life. A staff is not challenge in his hand. His mind clouded, he could feel the darkness slowly devouring him. There were many more questions he wanted to clarify, but there wasn't much time left and the devil was well aware.
"What is your decision boy?" drawled Chaos.
"As long as my conditions are met, I'll serve you," rasped out Damian, the pain from his injuries returned in full blast the moment he agreed.
A dark laugh filled his ears. "Excellent, my little reaper," said Chaos in glee. "I look forward to the souls you bring."
Silence filled the darkness before the pain finally ripped a scream from Damian's throat.
o.o.o.o.o
When he next woke, it was to the familiar dry heat of the scorching desert. As he drifted back to consciousness, he promptly realized his face was planted in the soft sand. His cape and hood was the only protection he had to the unforgiving sun. With a groan, he pushed against the shifting ground and sat up. Every direction he looked, there was sand, sand and more sand.
"Tt, how tedious," muttered the boy.
Trust the devil to drop him in the middle of the desert without food, water or any proper equipment. Had it been anyone else, they would've owed the devil countless innocent souls. Fortunately, Damian was a desert child. Even without proper equipment, he could at least find his way to an oasis. Albeit it wasn't a desert he was familiar with, it should be similar enough to not give him much trouble.
At a casual glance at the sky, Damian used the sun's position as a compass to set him off towards east. The sun was already past high noon; it won't be long before nightfall sets. Damian made a quick check over his equipment and frowned at how little he had left. His tunic was in shreds, crusted with his dried blood. He will need new clothes if he was to blend into this new world, but for the moment, his priority is to get out of this sand trap.
A loud screech came from above as a squall nearly knocked him off his feet. Damian grounded himself and raised his cape to shield his face from the flying sand. However, the growing shadow beneath him made him quickly look up. Above him was a screeching black behemoth of a bird.
"Giant birds… Why should I expect anything less?" muttered the boy as he turned heel and ran, but he didn't get far when he tripped over something buried shallowly in the sand. At a closer look, he noticed it was a black staff.
Cursing under his breath he grabbed the staff and held it up as the bird dived down in an attempt to devour him whole. The bird swept both him and the staff into its mouth. However, as it tried to swallow him whole, he quickly maneuvered the staff horizontally to lodge it into the bird's throat. In seconds, the bird tensed as it gagged and choked on the staff. Damian clung onto the staff desperately as the bird flail back and forth in a vain attempt in dislodging the staff from its throat.
In moments, he felt the bird shook as it descended to the ground and stomped furiously in panic. He made certain the staff was kept firmly in place as the bird made its final thrashes and dropped lifelessly to the ground. He dared not left go, in case the creature still lived and tossed its head back to swallow him before it finally died.
Five minutes, ten minutes, he waited until he could no longer feel the draft of wind brought on by the bird's breath before he unhinged the staff from its place and climbed out of the bird's throat. The stench of the bird's breath was revolting, the darkness made it more so potent. He was about to curse his luck in needing to trek out when the staff glowed red. Damian nearly dropped it when the ground beneath him shifted.
Slowly, the creature's body broke down piece by piece until it turned into orbs of somber light. Damian could almost hear a voice crying as it floated about before the staff devoured it along with the darkness. He raised a hand to shield his eyes as the sun's light broke through. It was then he saw the staff's full form for the first time.
"How does he expect me to fight with this?" growled the boy.
The slender staff was unnecessarily ornate with its entwined swirls and thorny vines encompassing an angry blood red stone. He didn't need to test the staff to know it was top heavy and unbalanced, hardly unsuitable for combat. How the staff managed to not snap during the bird's thrashing was a miracle in itself. What's more, the stone hadn't stopped glowing completely since it devoured the floating orbs of light. At a closer look, he noted those orbs were inside the stone.
"…So that was considered a soul," murmured the boy. "I'm starting to doubt there would be any thing resembling a human here…"
Damian sighed miserably as he flipped the staff topside down and adjusted his grip. A juvenile attempt to desecrate the tool given by the devil, but he could care less. At least he could use it to trek through the shifting sand. Just as he pulled up his hood, he noticed the glint of small bottle and a glowing sphere in the sand sitting where the bird used to be.
He didn't give a second thought when he picked up the two items and studied them carefully. The bottle, manmade, etched with unfamiliar writing. Good, maybe there was something resembling human here after all. He opened the cap and gave a cautious sniff. Surprise crossed his face when he felt refreshed and his mouth slightly less parched.
"Interesting…" He rummaged through his belt for a test strip and dipped it into the bottle. The strip came out white, the contents of the bottle was clean and safe to consume.
Instances like these made him glad of his father's over preparedness. With Gotham's water supply constantly targeted by the rogues, he had Lucius Fox create the test strips, capable of testing numerous toxins, hallucinogens and other harmful substances in water. Along with cleansing tablets that would purify the water if the strip tested positive for toxins.
Glad that he didn't need to waste a tablet on such a small amount of liquid, he plugged the bottle and tied it to his utility belt with some wires from one of the compartments. If he rationed out the bottle, he could last several days or at least until he finds an oasis.
The second item, the glowing sphere was a bit of a mystery. It didn't look manmade, but at the same time it hardly seemed natural. He rolled it in his hand studying the small orb. When nothing happened, he was tempted to chuck it aside. There was no need to add unnecessary weight. However, he knew nothing about this world and doubt any valuables he has on his person would worth much. Best just to keep hold of it, he could always chuck it if it becomes too cumbersome.
"Time to get a move on," muttered the boy as he set off.
Differences between this world and his world jumped at him as he moved further and further into the desert. Monsters roamed the land; he hid from many over the course of three hours. If they were anything like the bird he killed by chance, these were also souls that didn't pass on.
A frown crossed his face, if that was the case, how can he tell what's alive and what's dead? No wonder the devil didn't make much of an effort, he knew the mingling of the living and dead would make it hard for him to differentiate.
"Stop wasting time." He scolded himself.
The sun was starting to set behind him and there was no moon in sight. This would go poorly for him if there weren't many stars out come nightfall. He would be venturing in the darkness with a high chance of running into monsters. Even with the night vision feature on his mask, he wasn't sure if it still worked after traversing to another dimension.
o.o.o.o.o
Darker and darker the night grew and he found himself more cautious with each step, prodding the path before he ventured forward. In the desert, one could never be too careful lest they want to fall into a sinking sand pit. Unfortunately, even with such caution, it matter little when the sand pit widened quicker than he could back away.
He hadn't a chance to cry out in surprise when the ground swallowed him whole. Blinded by the darkness, he could do little as he slid rapidly through the pocket of tunnels beneath the desert. When he finally stopped, he was thrown onto cold stone floors.
"Wonderful," grunted the boy as he pushed onto his knees. "Where am I now?"
His eyes adjusted before he noticed the dull glow coming from the staff. He almost snorted; chances were that he would never be able to lose the damn thing even if he wanted to. The staff's glow wasn't enough to illuminate the stone path, grumbling, he reached into his belt for a flashlight. As he pulled the miniature flashlight out the orb from earlier slipped out and dropped to the ground.
The clattering bounces of the orb echoed in the darkness as he rolled further and further away. Its glow grew brighter before the floor lit up with strange glyphs.
"Yo, ju, yo, go…" sung a familiar voice.
Damian frowned. He heard this melody before, before Chaos spoke to him. This was the voice that was singing the song. He glanced at the glyphs warily as it pulsed one at a time, as if telling him to follow them down the path. Glancing behind him, there was only sand caved in from above. He had no choice he had to move forward.
"Ha, sa, te, ka na, e…"
With each step, he noted the glyphs pulsed to the rhythm of the melody. There was something soothing about the song, almost hypnotic. He paused, shaking his head. No, he can't let himself get hypnotize by the song.
"Ku, ta, ma, e…"
Damian paused when he reached the end of the hallway to a small round room. In the center of the room was a sizeable stone dome that took up most of the space. On the stone was an elaborate engraving of what seems like a demon taking flight with its head held high and demonic wings spread open to expose its skinless sinewy body. Hovering above the stone was an apparition of a blonde, dark-skinned man dressed in a strange set of clothing with goggles atop of his head.
"It's been a while since I've had a visitor," said the apparition. "Welcome summoner. I'm assuming you're here for the aeon?"
Summoner? Aeon? Damian frowned. "Who are you?"
The man raised a brow. "Are you not a summoner?" He eyed the staff. "Those are pyreflies in your staff."
Damian glanced to his staff and noticed it grew brighter than before. It hadn't done that since it devoured the spheres of light from the bird. "…Pyreflies?"
"They're remains of those who died," answered the man as he studied the boy closer. "You've been living under a rock boy?"
Silence filled the room.
The man sighed when he got no response, his eyes still focused on his staff. "Strange of you to venture all the way here, if you're not on a pilgrimage to defeat Sin."
Pilgrimage and sin, something religious related, that much he could figure out. And by the looks of the stone, it's not all about goodness and peace.
"…What are you?" questioned Damian, when it didn't seem like the apparition could do any harm. Not like the bird at least. It was obvious the man was a spirit, but he hardly looked like a lost soul, nor was he walking among the living.
"A fayth," answered the man.
"That tells me nothing," retorted Damian.
"I know," smiled the man. "Why don't we make a trade? I'll answer any questions you have, if you agree to answer some of mines."
"Why?" asked Damian cautiously.
"Curiosity," continued the fayth. "That staff of yours is quite intriguing, I've never seen a summoner use a staff so immersed in darkness. I would think this would be more suitable for a black mage."
Damian's eyes narrowed."…Chaos, if this is your idea of a game, I'm not finding it amusing."
"Chaos?" questioned the man.
"Don't play dumb with me. I'm not going to humor you."
The man stayed silent for a moment before a dark chuckled escaped him. "Father did say you were a clever boy."
"Who are you?" demanded Damian.
The apparition smirked before the stone glowed and he changed into the very image engraved onto the stone. "I am the Lord of Terror and the Prince of Darkness, Al'Diabalos. Your kind may know me better as Diablo."
"Is that supposed to impress me?" drawled Damian.
Amusement spread across Diablo's demonic face. "You are an interesting one Damian Wayne. I would most enjoy haunting your nightmares and feasting on your worst fears. However, I am on duty by my father's order."
"And that is?" questioned Damian.
"I am to offer information and my assistance, but of course any of such requires due payment."
"I'm not surprised," droned the boy. "Tell your father, I'm not paying him innocent souls."
Diablo grinned. "I am not my father. My form of payment does not require souls."
The boy looked at him questionably.
"I desire memories, the more precious the better, but of course, I do take lesser memories for lesser favors and information. I am, if not, fair."
Lies, Damian could already tell. "You're not giving me much of a choice stranding me down here."
"Oh, I will let you leave this place without payment, if that is what you desire," mused the demon. "Tell me, how well can you survive in a world you know nothing of? Its culture. Its languages. Its laws. Even a clever child like you would take a lifetime to learn all that you need."
Diablo hovered over him. "Not to mention the number of fiends you'll encounter. How many of those could you get lucky with? That Zu would've eaten you whole had you been slower. How long before you need to offer innocent souls to my father?"
"You're underestimating me. I was raised by assassins. Killing is not an issue with me," growled the boy.
"We both know that's not true little Robin. Let me remind you. Infants are the only ones with innocent souls. Do you think you can steal the soul of a newborn?" chuckled the demon. "Besides, I am not the one that will choose the memory for payment. You are. I'll only appear when you call for my assistance. After all, I have other worlds to terrorize."
Damian grew silent as he thought over his offer. "What sort of memories would I be giving up?"
The grin returned. "It varies depending on what you're asking for. Say you want information, you will have to give up the knowledge you have on something in your world. Language for a language, history for a history, culture for culture and so on and so forth."
"And if it's not knowledge I want?" asked Damian.
"Oh," crooned Diablo. "What do you have in mind?"
"If I need assistance in a battle or to save someone," questioned the boy seriously.
"To assist you in battle, I ask for a memory of your victory per assistance. However, if you're willing to part with the memory of your greatest victory, I will serve you for as long as you need me. That is a considerably a better deal. As for saving someone… depends on the severity. I prefer happy memories as payment. Of course, your happiest memory could be enough to revive someone if that is what you want."
"... If I agree, do I need to make payment to leave?"
Diablo smiled. "I'm in a good mood, I'll take you above ground regardless you agree or not."
The boy pondered over his options for a moment before he finally nodded. "I'll take up on your offer, but for now, I want to return to the surface."
The demon raised a non-existent brow. "You don't want to trade now? The desert is quite harsh."
"You never specified I had to decide here and now," noted Damian.
Diablo gave a raspy cackle. "I'm feeling generous today, I'll let you know the name of this world."
"I'm sure it's extremely hard to figure that one out on my own," drawled Damian sarcastically.
"Oh, I will enjoy your time here," grinned the demon before he enveloped the boy in his wings and bolted through the ceiling.
Damian bit back a shout as they seamlessly shot through miles of sand and vaulted into the sky. He kept a firm grasp on the demon's arms as it held on to him; he couldn't trust him to not drop him at this height. Diablo grinned slyly before his wings snapped open, inviting the cold night wind and breathtaking view of the world to steal the boy's breath away.
"Welcome to Spira."
o.o.o.o.o
CM Aeris: Fever induced stories are the strangest. What challenges will befall on our beloved little Robin? Find out next time of Lost Reaper!