Watching from the stands to the side of the hovering arena were two figures. The first was a young woman with blonde hair and a terror-stricken expression. The second was a strange creature with a stern expression in contrast. Neither had broken the silence as they watched the two figures, dueling to their deaths with no certain way out.
"Is there a way out of this?" Zelda asked, eyes locked on Marth. "Just a minute ago, we were enjoying our time together. What happened to that?"
"What happened to it should be obvious," Mewtwo stated flatly in his deep, enigmatic voice, still not taking his eyes off the battlefield. "The much harder question is the first one you posed."
"I can't think of anything," Zelda whispered, tears starting to leak out of her eyes. "I don't know what to do. We're trapped."
"Whether or not we truly are remains to be seen," Mewtwo said.
Zelda looked at him as if just realizing he was there. "What do you mean by that?"
"The enemy we are up against is powerful and smart," Mewtwo began. "Which only makes our job that much harder. However, if my thinking is correct, there may be a way to save the academy." He averted his gaze for the first time, although this was merely to give Zelda a side glance. "How powerful do you think your magical abilities are?"
"Fair," Zelda stammered out, apparently at a loss of what to say or where Mewtwo was going with this.
"I sense that Battlefield has locked itself onto Final Destination much like a human's missile locks onto a target," he continued. "If its target were to move, so would the missile."
"Wait," Zelda said, catching on. "When the two arenas collide, they will explode. But if the explosion isn't near the academy, it'll be spared! We'll all be safe!"
"You forget the young sword master fighting the dark one," Mewtwo explained.
Zelda gasped and looked at Marth. If they were to send the two arenas hurtling away, he would have no hope of surviving. Either he would jump off and fall to his death, or he'd be caught in the explosion. Both ways spelled death.
"Can we avoid that?" Zelda asked in a shaky voice.
"Possibly, but it would involve much speed, skill, and accuracy," Mewtwo said. "He would have to jump off in time to save himself, if indeed he would jump at all, and then we would have to locate him before it was too late, send somebody up to save him, and bring him back down without harm."
"Could you do that?" the young princess asked, eyes pleading for help. "I know you can do it. Please, if Marth jumps...."
"I will do what I can. I shall alert him of our plan and see if he agrees to it."
Marth parried a block from Ganondorf's massive sword. Beaten, bloodied and exhausted, the huge blade almost threw him off balance. He didn't see his enemy's boot coming toward him soon enough and was sent backward with a kick to the chest.
"Pick up your sword," Ganondorf goaded, smirking. "Pick up your sword and try again."
For he had dropped Falchion during the kick, and it now lay a few feet away. He wondered if it was truly worth getting back up and picking his sword up. He was a tired teenager fighting a powerful man with years of experience. The point was that Ganondorf didn't leave the arena, right? He needed to make sure he at least stayed onboard for the explosion....
You need to pick yourself back up and keep Ganondorf where he is, he thought.
Only his voice sounded different. It was very deep and slow--not at all like his own. Half out of surprise, half out of curiosity, he thought, What? Hello?
Get back up and listen to a new plan.
This voice sounds familiar....
This is Mewtwo. I'm contacting you using telepathy.
Distracted by Mewtwo's mind message, Marth barely noticed Ganondorf raising his sword over his head, and he rolled out of the way just in time. The sword sunk into the metal right where Marth's head was. Ganondorf had no trouble at all pulling it back out.
"Have you finally realized how useless you are?" he scowled.
You said something about a new plan, Marth thought, keeping his gaze on Ganondorf this time.
Zelda and I can save the academy and almost everybody in it.
You can!?!
At a price. Your life.
That doesn't matter! How does it work?
The two of us will combine our power and send Final Destination far away from here. Battlefield will follow it, and the explosion will be too far away to hurt anybody. Anybody but you. Are you prepared?
Of course. Just do it.
Until then, make sure that Ganondorf does not leave. But remember that these will probably be your last moments.
They'd likely be my last moments anyway. If it saves many more lives, I'd be grateful.
"He's agreed to do it," Mewtwo said to Zelda after a long while of staring at Marth. "Let's combine our power and move the arena."
Zelda focused her energy, held out her hands, and expelled it. A ray of blinding white energy shot out. It pressed against the security barrier in front of the stands, straining to get through. After a small battle, it squeezed through and attached itself to Final Destination's energy source. Mewtwo was concentrating on the source as well, no doubt using his psychic power to the best of its ability.
"How is the battle back at the academy going?" she asked with some difficulty, as maintaining the energy beam required a lot of mental stamina.
"Not well. I can sense that many are wounded, and all are exhausted. The Wire Frames are stronger and smarter than usual, and for every one of us, there are three of them. They don't stop coming. After we send the arena a long distance away, we will join the fight and aid them."
Back on Final Destination, Marth stumbled a bit as the floor beneath him gave a jerk. At first, he wondered whether Ganondorf was using his dark magic against him, but a second later another jerk followed, throwing Ganondorf off balance as well. It began to rumble, starting slowly at first but building in strength as time wore on. Slowly, gradually, it began moving. They were sending Final Destination away. It was past the point of no return.
"What's going on?" Ganondorf growled.
"Nothing you can stop," Marth said with a half-grin. "The arena is being sent away. Battlefield will not collide near the academy and kill everyone. You can't escape, either. You've lost once again. And to a little boy, too."
Ganondorf glared at him. "We'll see about everybody surviving. And I can escape. What makes you think I never planned that?"
"The fact that, no matter what you planned, I'm going to make sure it doesn't work."
"You're losing. Don't kid yourself."
Just keep him here...just keep him talking, Marth thought to himself.
But Ganondorf did not keep talking. He dove at Marth and stabbed at him, wielding his sword with surprising speed and skill despite its incredible size and weight. Marth knocked it out of the way with his own sword and sliced down at his head, but Ganondorf blocked that back and kicked him in the ribs. Recovering from it as best he could, he jumped in front of Ganondorf and swung several quick swipes, each time failing to land a hit on his target.
"Just get out of the way," Ganondorf said nonchalantly.
"Do you think I will?" Marth panted.
Please let it come soon, he thought, glancing up at the sky hopefully. Just get it over with.
He blocked another sword strike from Ganondorf and gave him a kick in the chest, picking up strategies quickly, but the villain was much stronger and thicker than Marth's slim body, resulting in a mildly pained expression but otherwise very little difference. Changing tactics, he gave a surprise sweep towards Ganondorf's legs. He almost got them, but the large sword blocked it just in time. How he could carry a sword that big and swing it around like it was nothing, he didn't know.
"Get out of the way," Ganondorf threatened in a low tone, baring his teeth.
"No."
"If you don't get out of the way, I'm not going to hold anything back. When you're lying on the ground, blood pouring from whatever I've lopped off and screaming like a newborn baby, perhaps you'll realize just how foolish you were."
"I don't think so."
Ganondorf straightened up, glaring at Marth with hatred, then swung his sword straight up. Marth, not expecting this move, almost didn't dodge out of the way in time. He ducked under a horizontal swing and stabbed at Ganondorf's legs, but he sidestepped it easily. The same foot came back up and kicked him in the face. Marth tasted blood and landed on his back. His sword rolled out of his hands. He tried to muster up the strength to get back up and fight, but all energy was gone from his body. He was tired. He was bloody, beaten, sore, and hadn't been in a good condition for days.
Had he made the right decision? Maybe he should have let somebody else handle it. Somebody who was stronger, somebody who was energized. He felt Ganondorf's fingers wrap around his throat and lift him up with the support of only one hand.
"Life is funny sometimes," Ganondorf said. He sounded absolutely livid. "I thought I could never hate anyone more than Link. But you've surpassed him. Good job."
Marth wanted to retort--tell him, "Thanks, my pleasure"--but couldn't muster up the energy for it. He was dead. He just had to hope that Ganondorf's plan to escape was somehow flawed in a way that he hadn't seen. He let his body go limp.
He tightened his body up almost as quickly. The fingers squeezed tighter, strangling him. He reached for Ganondorf's hands, trying to peel them off with what little energy he had, but the fingers only squeezed harder. His vision blurred.
The tightening stopped. Marth could fell the ground beneath him rumbling again, but this time, it wasn't simply rumbling; great tremors were rushing through it. Through his blurred sight, he could see something behind Ganondorf, glowing with bright purple flames and growing bigger all the time....
Ganondorf saw it too and let out a growl of frustration. He turned his attention back to Marth, and the prince didn't need his complete sight restored to know that Ganondorf's expression of hatred had deepened.
Somehow, the knowledge that Battlefield was hurtling closer, not more than twenty seconds away, gave Marth hope and strength. Mustering up his remaining power, he lifted his legs up and smashed them into Ganondorf's chest. With a grunt, he dropped him. Marth rolled backwards back onto his feet and looked around the arena for his sword. He leapt sideways, just out of reach of Ganondorf's kick, seized his sword, and rolled onto his feet once more. He parried a few more blows from his enemy's sword, glancing nervously at the oncoming ball of purple. No longer fearing pain or death, he jumped and tilted his body back, planting both feet on Ganondorf's head, who stumbled and landed on his back. Before the armored villain could get back up and defend himself, Marth leaped forward, sword raised....
Both men paused. Falchion sunk through Ganondorf's shoulder and went a short way into the metal beneath him. The wide-bladed sword pierced through Marth's skin partially, sinking into the outside of Marth's ribs. He had no idea what damage it had caused, but at the moment he didn't care. He yanked Falchion out and stood up, stumbling backwards. A few steps back, the ground seemed to have vanished...he was falling....
He shoved Falchion back into its sheath and held it there, falling with his back to the ground so far below and his cape billowing around him, watching the two arenas growing smaller and smaller. He let his body go limp again. He had done it. The academy would survive, and Ganondorf would die. Now the only thing to do was wait for his own death.