I guess I let you wait long enough. Here's the last set of installments for this particular story. I hope it's been a fun ride. I certainly had fun myself while writing it. Make sure you hit the epilogue – I seriously think the best speech I've ever written is there.
I still don't own Mighty Max or the Ghostbusters or any of the myriad of things that will get referenced from here on out. We'll just go with it, okay?
Hey, citizenjess and finem? This one's for you two, who always keep me excited to write.
Enjoy!
"Your Guardian, Cap-Bearer, is now mine. As will you all become if you do not give me what I want and stand aside. Your end can be far more painful than eternal servitude to me, if I choose it. Mighty One, come to me at once." Pandora smirked at the surprised and dismayed faces before her.
"Not a chance!" Winston yelled. "Let's go men!" And he opened fire, followed by the others, all of whom tried to avoid hitting Norman, but between Pandora and her entourage of five or six demons like the two they'd seen in the grocery store, they had no shortage of targets.
"Protect the Mighty One at all costs!" Egon shouted.
"But…" Max began hesitantly; he started to move towards where his Guardian was using his sword to prevent the positron beams from striking Pandora. Ray appeared beside him and, one hand still firing, used the other to shove the boy behind him.
"Sorry kid, but you're way more important than we are right now." He narrowly dodged an incoming blow from a demon, flinging a trap with his off hand and stomping on the pedal just in time to prevent losing more than some hair and a bit of skin from his forehead to the grasping claws.
"No, I'm not!" he protested, only to feel himself being pulled away by Virgil. "Virg! We've got to do something! They can't go up against Pandora AND Norman! They're going to get themselves killed!"
"If that is their destiny, Mighty One, we cannot thwart it," and the Lemurian's voice was somber. "You must honor their sacrifice and focus only on saving the world."
"No way! I've had it with letting people take the fall for me!" And feeling a bright warmth in his chest, Max knew exactly what he had to do. Seeing that Virgil had no intention of letting go of his elbow, he grinned a little wildly. "Sorry about this!"
He grabbed the hood of the Lemurian's ancient toga-thing and pulled it over his eyes, momentarily blinding him. Virgil, as Max knew he would, immediately released his arm to pull back the fabric, and in that instant, the Cap-Bearer made a break for it. He took a quick stock of the situation, surprised at how badly it had imploded in less than a minute.
Near the doorway, Pandora still loomed, Norman positioned in front of her and keeping the Ghostbusters at bay. Four or five demons stumbled or flew through the room, roaring and snarling and making themselves really annoying to the Ghostbusters, who were alternately trying not to get clawed or bitten and to keep up some kind of perimeter between the creatures and Max and Virgil nearer to the jar.
Egon cried out – he had gotten pretty close to Norman and, in ducking an expert swipe with the greatsword, had managed to bash open his palm on the jagged rocks on the ground. Peter ran up, sporting a cut under one eye, but managed to angle himself so that the positron accelerator was not appealing to the possessed Guardian.
"Hey! Norman!" Max dodged a demon, and a grab by Winston who had noticed him slip their perimeter, and raced in close to his friend. "For what it's worth, I'm really, really sorry about this!"
The Cap-Bearer had only the beginnings of an idea, but it seemed to be enough to go on. He knew that they'd have to fight Pandora in a minute, and he didn't want to do that without his Guardian. He also knew he had to keep Norman from hurting the Ghostbusters and vice versa. So he did the only thing that made any sense at all.
As he charged Norman, he noted a sudden slowness in the Viking's movements, as if he were less able to turn against the Mighty One. Which was what Max had been counting on. So when Max flung himself on Norman's back and covered his eyes, just as he had the demon back in New York City, he wasn't immediately cut to pieces. He wrapped himself tightly around Norman's solid neck and kicked with his feet, landing a solid blow to the arm that rose up against him. Norman's sword seemed to slip from his fingers a bit too easily, but he could work with that.
Until a moment later, when a rough hand had Max's collar and he was swung around and staring into endless blackness where the eyes of his friend should have been.
"Heh. Hiya big guy," he huffed nervously.
"Enough!" Pandora shouted.
"Fine with me!" Peter yelled back. "Looks like it's six on two. Or five and a half on two and a half depending on how you count the bird and the mountain man." True enough, the last trap snapped closed on the only other demon in the room besides Pandora. The four Ghostbusters lined up to face her, but lowered their weapons upon seeing Max's predicament.
"Stand aside," she commanded, and when Norman shook Max warningly the others complied, making a path for Pandora and Norman to the dais.
"What are you doing?" Egon asked angrily. "You can't possibly think it's a good idea to open the jar!"
"Of course not," she almost smiled at him. "I need no competition from those too foolish to remain trapped. But their power, that I will harness and leave them to languish!"
To everyone's horror, then, she turned and swept the Cosmic Cap off of Max's head. With a gesture she settled it on the seal above the jar. The Cap began to glow with a dark light that seemed to siphon the cold from the jar directly to Pandora. A moment later, the same dark light surrounded her and lifted her into the air.
"Do you feel it, you meaningless humans? The power of all evil, the power to rule all that is, released to me by the one charged to protect it!"
Pandora was changing as she hung like a dark moon over the jar, growing larger, more grotesque, her laughter deepening as the space began to feel even more oppressive. Max could feel it, could feel the evil of a million uber-Skullmasters leaching from the jar into Pandora. And his Cap was the conduit. He had to do something!
"Normie, please, you've got to snap out of it. I need your help to stop her!"
"Do not interfere!" she shrieked, and she spat a shadow to the ground. The darkness unfurled and revealed two more demons, larger than their counterparts. They advanced on the Ghostbusters menacingly.
"Norman! You are the Guardian! Please!" And Max let go of everything but the fact that he was the Mighty One, his Guardian was in trouble, and the world was about to end, or it would if Pandora got her way. He didn't have the Cap, but he didn't need it. His power was alive in his heart.
Swinging from where he dangled, he did the only thing he could.
Max flung himself into Norman's arms and held on tight, burying his head in his friend's shoulder.
"Please, big guy. You aren't Pandora's monster. You're my friend. Now snap out of it!" And as he shouted, he felt the bright bubble of his inborn whatever-it-was grow white-hot. He looked up and met Norman's black eyes.
And, suddenly, the black washed away. The Guardian blinked once and found himself with an armful of distraught Cap-Bearer. With no Cap. And a monster in the air, two on the ground, and the Ghostbusters in trouble.
"What happened, Mighty One?"
Max's smile could have lit up the night, but he hurried to say, "Long story! Just go help the guys deal with those things!" and he pointed towards the demons.
"It would be my pleasure," Norman growled happily, setting Max down.
"Okay guys!" Ray called out, seeing that the boy was no longer a hostage and Norman was back to himself. "Time to do what we do best!"
"You get those things!" Peter called. "I'll handle Princess Ugly up there!" And he opened fire just as one of the demons flung a rock towards him, causing him to lurch sideways and the beam to wobble wildly.
"No!"
The blast from the proton accelerator missed its mark and struck not Pandora nor the jar, but the Cap glowing from the top of the strange black lock which was sporting cracks that had not been there before. Max had a moment of sheer horror before he remembered that even the Ghostbusters couldn't destroy the Cosmic Cap; instead, it broke loose from the strange energy that had kept it in place, sailing away from the dais. But before he could cheer, Pandora gave an inhuman shriek.
"You fool! The Cap allowed me to control the jar! Now it will open completely!"
And indeed, to their dawning horror, the jar seemed to be vibrating. A split-second later, what remained of the lock shattered to dust and the lid shot straight up, striking the far-above ceiling before crashing down at the other end of the room.
"No!" Max shouted. He felt his feet racing before he was even aware he was moving. Everything slowed. He could feel, with a slimy, sickening shudder, the insidious forces of evil beginning to bulge and creep from the jar that had contained them for so long. He could hear his own heartbeat, inexplicably loud against a sudden silence, as though all sound had been removed from the world, all but his own heart.
Then reality slammed back and Max was at the jar.
Unable to think, reacting entirely on instinct, the Mighty One pushed his hands against the yawing mouth of the vessel, trying vainly to cover it. His fingertips brushed against the far lip while his elbows balanced the nearer one, and he spread his hands helplessly. They seemed so small, so precariously situated. He couldn't even hold back sand or water or puppies if they were to come spilling forth – how would he prevent the escape of a million demons worse than Skullmaster into his world?
"Mighty One."
The Cap-Bearer felt a touch in his mind, soft and warm and serene. It was a female voice, one he had never heard before, but, as his brain shook itself, one he recognized. Not because he'd heard it before; rather, because he knew who it must be.
"Anesidora?"
"Yes. With the jar truly open, the very world is in peril. I will keep the evil at bay as long as I can, but I will need your help."
"What can I do?" The Mighty One felt a sudden coldness, like an icy blade, slice into his palms. It took all his strength not to pull away in surprise and pain.
"Your power allows you to bind the jar yourself, as I have done all this time. Hold fast, Mighty One. And as soon as you can, replace the lid and then we must lock it again. I will do all I can to assist you."
"But I can't even cover it," he replied desperately.
"The body is unimportant, the span of your hands irrelevant. Seal the jar with your will, Mighty One, and every force in the universe will obey."
"But what about you?" Max asked, feeling the sensation bite into his wrists, making his fingers burn. There was a sudden warmth that immediately froze, and he knew he was bleeding. He wasn't sure he could hold on through this pain for a few more minutes, and he had a sudden sense of the endless millennia Anesidora had been enduring far worse. "If we put the top back on, you'll be trapped again. Can't you, you know, jump out at the last second?"
"No, Mighty One, though I thank you for your concern. This is my place. When you have the chance, close the jar without regret for me. For as long as I remain here, so too will my precious world be safe."
Max felt a sudden hot tear on his cheek, and it was only somewhat induced by the steadily worsening feelings in his hands. As his arms went numb, he grit his teeth. Anesidora had held evil back for longer than even Norman had been alive; he could handle it for a few minutes. He had to. But no amount of will or nobility could prevent him from looking over his shoulder to where the others continued to dodge the demons.
"Not to rush you or anything but HURRY UP! COULD USE A LITTLE HELP HERE!"
An answering grunt was the only indication Max had that Norman was still in the fight. But then, of course he was. The Mighty One's position prevented him from being able to turn, and he didn't dare let go of the jar to move, leaving him with only Pandora herself in his field of view. The look of horror on her face when the jar had opened had eased now that he was in place, and in fact, she looked rather satisfied.
"Thank you, Chosen One," she said mockingly, drawing near. At her approach, Max flinched. He could feel the evil rolling off her. It was like a bad smell so pervasive it seemed to invade his very body.
"Didn't anybody ever teach you not to open presents before Christmas morning?" he shot back.
"But what greater celebration could there be besides my triumph?" she returned, smirking horribly.
"I can think of a few!" he yelled. Up close, this newly-enhanced Pandora was even worse than before, but at least, now that he was holding the jar himself, she didn't seem to be absorbing any more energy. She hadn't grown any larger or more disfigured. It was better than nothing; small victories and all that.
"Mighty One!" Egon shouted in alarm. Max turned enough to see the last demon vanish into one of the Ghostbusters' traps, the four men leaving it where it had been thrown and charging towards him. Norman picked himself up from across the room and joined them.
But before they were quite to the dais, Pandora reared up, shouting.
"Oh, little fire-bringers! How pathetic you are!"
"Get her!" Ray bellowed and as one the Ghostbusters took aim and fired.
"Mighty One," Virgil suddenly appeared to Max's left, "you must not let go, no matter the consequences!"
"I know that, Virg!" he returned exasperatedly. "But if I'm here, how do we beat her?"
"You don't!"
Looking back to Pandora, Max felt himself go paler and colder still. The four beams of the proton packs danced around her like streamers, and about as effectively. She batted them away with ease.
"Keep it up, men!" Peter ordered. "Full power."
"Your power means nothing," Pandora laughed coldly. Even with the still-brighter beams, they seemed inconsequential.
"What now?" Norman demanded, joining Max and Virgil and looking up helplessly.
"I…I don't know," Virgil squawked despairingly. "The Mighty One should be able to defeat her, but with the jar open…"
"That's it!" Max shouted, his face lighting up. "Bring me the Cap, quick!"
Norman sped to obey without asking; if the Cap-Bearer had an idea, he would see it through. Ducking the dangerous particle streams, he retrieved the Cap from where it had fallen and raced back, placing it on his boy's head with quick reverence.
"What are you thinking?" Egon asked breathlessly as the four drew nearly parallel with the dais. Pandora had floated up and back away from the jar, and now Egon and Winston stood to Max's right, Ray and Peter to his left, with Norman and Virgil just behind him.
But Max ignored him. Instead, he turned his mind inward.
"Anesidora?"
"Yes, Mighty One?"
"I've got to help my friends. I've got to fight Pandora or we'll never be able to reseal the jar. But I can't let go. And I'm not sure I'm strong enough to do everything on my own."
"I understand. I will assist you. But know that you do not need it. Your power is great."
In the next moment, Max felt himself become nearly incandescent. Like the one time he'd touched the Sun page of the Lemurian Arcana, he felt himself light up with a power that was at once his and yet so far beyond him it was galaxies apart. He didn't know how much of it was his own and how much was Anesidora's and how much came from what he guessed was a long-dormant power in the temple itself, but it didn't matter. It was almost more than he could handle, but Max had touched the fabric of the portals before. He'd held the Crystal of Souls when Skullmaster was reordering the universe. He knew in a way no one could ever understand exactly how much he could take. And he could do this.
"Okay, Pandora! Let's see how it feels to absorb THIS!" he shouted with a brilliant grin lighting up his face.
Max shifted so that one hand hovered above the center of the jar's opening, just above the event horizon beyond which he knew waited untold evils. He set his other on his Cap for just a moment to steady himself, then pushed his palm forward with every ounce of will and power he could draw from the Cap, the universe, Anesidora, and himself. A bright golden light crackled to life around him and a beam of his own joined the other four surrounding the demon goddess.
"Mighty One?" Peter asked in confusion.
"Come on! We can do this together!" the Cap-Bearer called back.
"What have you done?" Pandora screamed, twisting as the golden light seemed to saturate the four particle streams with still more energy and the five beams began to close in on her.
"He's the Mighty One! We told you so!" Norman yelled with a sort of savage smile.
"The infusion of energy seems to be exponentially impacting the output of our…"
"English, Egon!" Winston snapped.
"Whatever the kid's doing, it's making us all stronger," Egon replied a little archly.
"Well I can see that!"
"Can we get her like this?" Peter asked.
"Looks like. A trap will never hold her, though," Ray said, gritting his teeth.
"No," Virgil suddenly made himself heard, "but the jar will. Draw her in, Mighty One, and seal her with the others."
"No!" Pandora shrieked in a panic, lashing out against the bonds of energy that were ever more tightly confining and draining her. "No! I'll never, never go back!"
"Stop…making…her…mad…" Max panted. Even lit up like a Christmas tree, the boy could feel the strain of multitasking his energies. It was vaguely like trying to hold back Niagara Falls while dragging a tractor towards himself on a very tenuous thread, and every time Pandora moved he could feel it test his resolve and strength to both bind her and keep the jar from opening completely. But the warm energy continued to pour into him from Anesidora, offering him a well of power that seemed boundless. And between that, the inherent energy of the Cap, and his weirdly dialed-into-the-cosmos stuff, he didn't think he'd run dry. If Pandora'd quit moving around so much, that is!
"Get around behind her!" Winston suggested. "Push her towards the jar!"
The four Ghostbusters began shifting their position, expertly working towards and then under and behind where Pandora hung in the air, struggling and shouting. With the barest of signals, the four readjusted their position and began a concentrated push forward. They dug their feet in firmly and drove as hard as they could, leaning against the streams with all their might.
"You...are the…heaviest…ghost-demon-thing…I've ever…had to move," Peter panted. And it was true. It would have been easier to push the firehouse than it was forcing her forward, but it didn't matter. As one, the four had set themselves to it. Winston's face was granite concentration and stubbornness. Ray's was twisted up like a child focusing on a task, complete with the tip of his tongue sticking out from the corner of his mouth. Egon's forehead was deeply furrowed and his head was down as though he could force her to move with his will alone. And Peter felt his own expression harden. Do or die time, huh?
"Max!" he yelled across the sparking energy. "When we get her close enough, it's gonna be up to you to get her in there."
"I know." The boy's voice had gone calmly solid. "I've got this."
The Cap-Bearer looked up into Pandora's face and remembered his vision. Shuru had lost everything – his wife, his life, his eternity – to this monster. She had killed Kagina and taken her body, but she had taken far more from Shuru. And she would take it from all of them if he gave her the chance. His will narrowed.
Pandora would be sealed in the jar or he would die trying. Nobody was getting hurt any more today, not on his watch.
As if reading his thoughts, the monster gave up struggling long enough to laugh again.
"You're going to die anyway, Chosen One! It is inevitable!"
"What do you mean?" Norman demanded.
"Even if you defeat me, even if you force me into that prison, it will take the spilled blood of a hero to seal the lid to the jar. He must throw himself in like Anesidora before him or die upon it as that foolish priest did to bind and hide it again. Even if you banish me, the world will still grow darker because the Mighty One will be destroyed!"
"It can't be," Virgil said with despair. The surprise and shock of his voice was enough that even the Ghostbusters faltered in their push forward.
"It doesn't matter," Max's words rang out confidently. "I'm going to save the world whatever it takes. And that starts with getting rid of you!"
Norman stole a look at his boy and was not surprised to see wetness on his cheeks, but he was surprised that it was blood. Whatever the Mighty One was doing appeared to be drawing wounds across his body like had happened to Kagina before him: his ears leaked droplets of fluid, his nose bled, and even his eyes dripped slightly reddened tears. He looked a mess, and the fierce, almost hateful look in his eyes arrested the Guardian completely. But it wasn't hate.
"Love," Virgil said softly beside the Viking, meeting his eyes sadly and answering the unvoiced question. "The Mighty One loves this world enough to die for it without fear or regret."
"Well of course. He's the Mighty One."
Max ignored them both. He turned to see the four Ghostbusters looking at him, all hesitating slightly. He drew himself up as much as he could and nodded once. Then, turning his gaze back to Pandora, he closed the hand he'd been using to command the energy into a tight fist. At once the streams around her coalesced into a solid ring of power.
"Welcome to the Hotel Pithos," Max quipped brightly. "Enjoy your stay!"
And with a rough gesture he drove his fist down and into the jar.
There was a terrible sucking sound and a high-pitched cry echoed through the room. The entire ball of energy flattened into a streak of light in the air that snapped after the fist and vanished into the dark infinity of the jar. And everything was quiet for a moment.
"Max, are you okay?" Winston yelled, running forward.
"Sure," the Cap-Bearer shrugged a little as, feeling the power in him drain away, he returned both hands to the mouth of the jar, the one he'd plunged in with Pandora feeling strangely numb, cold, and looking like he'd stuck it in scalding water though he couldn't feel it yet, nor the blood congealing in the cracks of his palm. "Just a vocational hazard."
A soft piece of cloth moved across his face and Max looked down to see Virgil carefully wiping away the blood with his handkerchief. For the first time he became aware of the stinging sensation in his ears, the heat dripping from his nose, and the oddly red haze in his vision. The fowl looked incredibly sad and somber, but there was a small light of pride in his eyes as he finished, too.
"Thanks, Virg." Max turned his head to Norman. "Can you carry the lid over here?"
"Wait, are you really gonna…?" Ray began.
"I guess so," Max said. "Like I said when we met, I'm the Mighty One and I get asked to risk it all to save the world all the time. I guess this is one of those times when the risk it a little more than I can take." His face looked oddly young and vulnerable as he said it, but his voice was steady.
"Isn't there another way?" Peter wanted to know.
"No, there isn't." Egon's voice was final. But the other Ghostbusters saw something in his expression, something that meant he was thinking fast, as fast as he could.
Norman returned lugging the huge black lid and, at a nod from Max, picked it up and put it over the jar, the boy withdrawing his hands briefly. As soon as the lid was on, he shifted his grip so he held either side of the opening, pinning the lid to the jar with his aching fingers.
"Mighty One?"
This time Anesidora's voice was audible in the space to them all. Max closed his eyes.
"Yes, Anesidora?"
"I am sorry for this. I had intended to hold the jar for all time. It should never have been opened again after Shuru's sacrifice. But it is true that a pure heart of courage must seal this jar from where you stand as Pandora said. I cannot bind it from within. I am sorry I must ask for your life to save the world we both love."
"Don't worry about it."
"What will happen to him?" Ray wanted to know.
"He must seal the jar with his power and the act of it will draw him inside with me. He will be condemned as I have been to an eternity holding back the evil that lives here. That he is mortal will not matter, for time is immaterial here – in the end he will be gone from your world and will give himself to this task for all time. Mighty One, if you choose to expend your power in this way, you will never escape the jar, but neither will evil."
"How do I seal it?" Max asked after only a moment's silence.
"Mighty One…" Virgil began, but he had no way to finish his words and fell quiet.
"Offer your blood to the mouth on the lid of the jar, Mighty One, and then let yourself fall."
"Wait." The tone in Egon's voice startled them all to stillness. And without another word, the scientist stepped up onto the dais, looked straight at Max, and squeezed his fist tightly. His hand still bled from the earlier fall, and his blood trickled from between his fingers until a few drops splashed in the dark, open mouth of the face in the jar's lid.
"Egon!" Peter exclaimed.
"The world needs you, Mighty One," Egon smiled ruefully. "It can spare me."
"But…but…I've already bled on the jar!" Max protested.
"But not the lid," Egon returned. "I'd guess that changes things."
"It does. Mortal, you will die now that you have done this. You are not strong enough to enter the jar and hold evil at bay. You will become like Shuru, a soul lost for all time as you conceal and bind the evil by your death."
"I know that." Egon's voice was rather peaceful. "But it saves Max."
"No way! Egon, you aren't doing this!" Winston protested.
"I think I already have."
"Fine! If you're gonna be all stupid and altruistic, you can't keep me from joining the fun!" And suddenly Peter was beside him, wiping a bit of blood from one cheek and slapping down his hand onto the jar's lid as well, splattering a few drops to land beside Egon's offering.
"Pete!" Ray and Egon yelled in unison.
"What? I'm not a trendsetter, but you know how I hate being left behind."
"Anesidora," Virgil called out, his voice oddly intense, "can we continue to tip the scales, to spare the Mighty One this fate?"
"If your hearts are pure, if your courage absolute, then yes. If you all offer your lifeblood to the lid to form a new seal, the Mighty One can use his power to bind the jar and it will not be his life taken as the price, nor will he be drawn within. However, you will all perish in the attempt, for none of you have enough power to survive the sealing of the jar. But the Mighty One would remain unharmed."
"What are we waiting for, then?" Norman grunted once, ran his hand along his blade (for the Guardian had not shed a drop of blood in the fight) and added his offering to the lid.
"No! Stop it!" Max cried out, his face becoming paler and his jaw hanging in horror. "You can't die for this! You can't die for me!"
"Sure we can," Ray put a hand on his shoulder, then touched his own bleeding temple and let a drop fall. "You're the one who has to go on and save the world, Max."
"Mighty One," Virgil's voice was serene, "allow us all to do this. Let us offer our blood. Then seal the jar as you must, but offer it none of your own. If it takes our lives, you will remain to fulfill your destiny and protect this world. We will not be forced to spend eternity in the dark battling evil as you would be. Our end will be quick and painless. The world will be safe. It…it is our duty to you, Mighty Max."
Max felt his throat close and gulped hard, shaking his head in denial even as Winston let a few drops of his blood slide to join the others.
"Never thought I'd be going out this way," he remarked calmly to the others still gathered around the jar. One by one, they put a hand on the lid, pressing downward as though they could hold the jar closed without Max's strange power.
"My only regret," Peter said dramatically, "is that I never did get paid for this one."
"Not yet," Egon put in mischievously, "but I think that's what the jar is about to do."
"Not the same thing, Egon," Peter replied.
"What about Janine and Slimer and everybody?" Ray wanted to know, the levity dripping from his face and leaving solemn sadness in its wake.
"Janine…she's tough," and there was genuine sorrow in Peter's voice. "She'll be okay. And she'll probably take care of the little slime-ball. She'll…she'll understand."
"Yes, I suppose she will," Egon sighed and turned his face away.
"I cannot thank you enough. What you do here, your heroism, it is unparalleled. It is an honor to join you in this," Virgil interrupted the four before their sadness spilled any rather – he could see them begin to feel the loss. He gestured to Norman who gave him a boost.
"Virgil, please, don't!"
But Max's desperate cry to save the last of them was met only with calm, certain eyes as the Lemurian pulled a feather out of his arm and squeezed a tiny drop of blood from its tip.
"I'm sorry, Mighty One. But I told you when we met that I had come to you to guide and serve you. You have learned so much. It appears that Norman and I have decided that it is time to do our final duty by you."
Max staggered back and away from the jar. He could feel the pressure in the air, the tug that reminded him of knowing when a portal was near. But this wasn't that. This was the draw to finish what had been begun. To use his power to seal the jar as Anesidora had done eons before. But unlike Anesidora, it wasn't his own life or blood or eternity he was offering. It was everybody else's. He felt like he had a gun in his hand, and as soon as he pulled that trigger, all of them would die. He would be killing them all by his own choice.
"Mighty One," Norman called softly. "It is time."
"Yeah, and I hate waiting," Peter said gently.
"No! It isn't supposed to be like this!" Max shook his head. "How can you expect me to let you all die for me?"
"You're not letting us die," Winston said softly. "You're giving us the chance to save the world."
"You know the stories, kid. You know how many times we've cheated death to protect what we care about," Ray added. "We all knew when we came here that we might not get home. It's part of being a Ghostbuster."
"Mighty One," Egon said, and his voice had taken on the intoning quality Max most associated with Virgil declaring a prophecy, "it's time. Time for us to let go. Time for you to save the world. We probably can't hold on much longer before Anesidora's power fails again and we have to start over."
Max actually turned his back on them. His whole body was tense and his fists were so tight he felt sure he was about to open wounds in his palms with his fingernails. He squeezed his eyes closed and shook with some mix of fear and shame and fury and loss. Then he snapped his head up. His expression cleared and he turned back to them.
"Thank you. All of you," and he moved towards the jar again, stepping between Norman and Virgil and completing the circle. "Shuru's great sin wasn't that he gave in to fear. It was that he couldn't bear to let Kagina die. It doomed them all. But I get it now."
He looked up and smiled, actually smiled.
"It's easy to die for somebody. Compared to asking somebody to die for you, it's very easy. Kagina was willing to die to save the world and Shuru from the jar opening. But Shuru couldn't watch that happen, and that's when he made his mistake. If he'd let her die there, the jar might never have opened."
"Yes, Mighty One," Virgil smiled too. "That's right. You have protected this world and us as well. It is time for us to protect you."
"Yeah, but you're missing something," and his smile deepened, not teasingly, but with genuine relief.
"What's that?"
"There's something even more powerful than being willing to die for something. Shuru and Kagina both died to seal and hide the jar. Maybe we can do better. Because more than being willing to die for this, I'm willing to live for it!"
And before anyone could stop him, Max raised his right hand, still oozing from where the cold oblivion of the jar had torn his skin and bloody from where he had just reopened the wound a moment ago in his anger. Blood flowing, he slammed his hand into the center of the hollow on the jar's lid, mixing his blood with the other drops there, and he released all the power he could find within himself.
From underneath his hand a golden light blossomed. Norman was already reaching for Max to pull him away, and the Ghostbusters were all in motion to stop him, but everything seemed to freeze in the light. Then, after a long moment, Virgil lifted his arm as far as he could reach and put his feathery hand over Max's in the mouth on the jar. Not to pull him away. To support him.
Egon's joined it, followed by Peter and Ray and Winston. Norman clasped his enormous hand over them all and six faces turned to Max. Whatever happened now, they would face it together.
"Please let this work," he thought to himself. If the six of them could have given their blood to die, maybe one more person would be enough to tip the scales and save them all. After all, hadn't he at last figured out that it was harder to live in the world you create with sacrifice than to die in its creation? Didn't he finally understand that there was more power in living every single day for what you believe in than dying for it in one momentary instant? If being willing to sacrifice every breath of the rest of his days to save the world wasn't the heart of his power, then he didn't know what was.
And if not, if he was wrong about all this, then he hadn't let them die alone. They'd saved him from an eternity in the jar. The least he could do was go with them in death. The world would be safe, and he would not have chosen the lives of his friends over his own. It was enough.
The light spilling from beneath their seven hands intensified until it burned even through tightly closed eyes and the mind itself was awash in light. It wasn't painful, not even that uncomfortable, but it was disorienting. Max felt himself seem to slide in and out of awareness for a moment, then felt a burning all along his outstretched arm. A voice touched his mind.
"Mighty One. With your power the jar is once again sealed. You are fortunate, Chosen One. Not to have survived, or for having been spared the jar, but that you have allies of such honor and virtue. Leave this place with my gratitude."
The light and voice faded and Max blinked spots from his eyes. Above the open-mouthed face on the lid of the jar, a black and cold apparatus had sprouted, twining around the many arms that met on the center of the lid. Tendrils of the black metal stretched over the lid, creeping down the edges of the jar like the roots of a tree. And above the joined hands, a large sphere drew the lock together. Around its surface were different-sized handprints, seven in all, each marked with a sharp point in the center of the palm.
Almost fearfully, Max pulled his arm back, afraid for a moment he might find himself effectively handcuffed to the jar of so much suffering, but his small hand came free with ease. His heart beating in his throat, Max finally looked up from the newly-born lock.
Six faces, amazed and mostly happy, looked back at him.
"Mighty One," Egon made his voice severe, "that was the most foolhardy thing you have done yet. We were willing to die and you still risked yourself on the infinitesimally small chance you would buy all our lives. It was reckless." He smiled. "Thank you."
"Looks like we owe you for saving us again," Winston winked.
"Hey, and likewise!" Max smiled, watching as each person carefully pulled their own arm from the lock. "Least I could do for what you offered to do for me. Call it a tie."
"And if you ever do something like that again," Virgil huffed, stamping a foot in irritation, "I shall…I shall…think of something awful to do later!"
Max started to giggle even as Norman put a hand on his shoulder. "Well done, Cap-Bearer."
"Oh, don't encourage him!" Virgil spluttered.
Max's giggling turned into full-blown laughter which even the Ghostbusters didn't bother to resist. Norman snorted through his nose. And as they stepped down from the dais in time to see the jar fade completely from view, though they all knew it remained, hidden once more, the sudden and sweet wonder of still being alive, of having won, broke over them. Even Virgil.
The four Ghostbusters, one Guardian, one Lemurian, and one Mighty One grinned and laughed all the way home.