It all ends.

Chapter Twenty-Five: The Last Moment

The stitchpunk coven raced through the rocky field, taking care to keep together so they wouldn't lose one another. Dead, yellow grass surrounded them and made it difficult to see the way out of the field ahead. The coven crept quickly through the ocean of grass, rocks, and trees, the torrential rain soaking them all. The Machine was struggling to catch up behind them. The tightly spaced rocks and trees made it difficult for the immense metallic monster to get to the stitchpunks – it couldn't circle around in the field of the Barrens or else it would lose them in the remains of the once-beautiful forest. So it continued on, its shrieks of fury echoing in the air around them, ripping trees and rocks aside.

9 looked over his shoulder to the Machine, its single crimson eye illuminating the night. He knew that he needed to stop and lure it away from the others into the field before his strength was completely gone. Each step weakened him as his side throbbed intensely. His entire body screamed with pain that he simply couldn't ignore any longer. 9 knew he was pushing himself to the absolute limit but he wouldn't allow anything to stop him. As he glanced at the Machine again, 9 noticed something dripping off one of its claws as it swung it into a tree, snapping the trunk in half, splinters flying everywhere. His eyes widened and he realized that the Machine was dripping with oil. The box it crushed next to the Citadel – it must have contained an oil barrel!

9 suddenly slipped in a small patch of mud. He tried to keep his balance but his trembling knees buckled and gave out from underneath him. 9 collapsed to the ground, landing on his injured side. The poor male stitchpunk cried out and clutched his side, grimacing and struggling to get back to his feet. The light staff dropped from his hands into the dripping, dead grass. 9 knew that if he couldn't get back to his feet this one last time, then he never would again. Suddenly, someone was by his side, arms around him and trying to heave him to his feet.

"Come on, 9," 5's deep, familiar voice wavered in and out of focus. "Come on, you can do it. You've got to get up, come on." 5 encouraged, pulling 9 up out of the mud and dirt and to his unsteady feet. 9 shook his head, dazed and dizzy. The Machine screamed as it spotted the two stitchpunks, struggling to crawl over a small chasm that blocked its way. 5 gasped sharply and slung 9's arm over his shoulders, trying to help get him back to the others. 9, however, pulled himself out of 5's grasp and dug his feet into the dirt.

"Wait," 9 said, looking up to the Machine. It was still trapped and screeching furiously as sparks issued from around its eye and were extinguished in the sheeting rain. 9 then knew exactly what he had to do. 5 stopped walking as 9 abruptly pulled himself away and halted to look up at the Machine. 5 reached for 9's hand and tried to get him to continue walking.

"Come on, 9! The Machine is going to come after us any second! We've got to get back to the oth –" 5 said urgently but was abruptly cut off as 9 yanked his hand fiercely from 5's own. 5 withdrew, shocked at his best friend's sudden actions. 9 looked at 5 with a heartbreaking expression. The younger man knew that, in this moment, he was about to say goodbye to his best friend. His heart seemed to break as rain streaked down his cheeks like tears. He walked over to 5, clasping his shoulder tightly.

"5…" 9 began, closing his eyes for a moment and sighing before continuing. He had known this goodbye was coming for days but he hadn't prepared himself for just how painful it was.

"What is it?" 5 asked softly, peering at his friend in perplexity and anxiety, reaching up and clasping the hand that was on his shoulder. 9 took a deep breath before continuing, looking directly into 5's single eye.

"5, get everyone out of here. Keep them hidden and keep them safe. When this is over, take them home." 9 said softly but urgently, giving 5's shoulder a small shake. "I can distract it and fight it off until you guys are out of here. It might weaken the Machine enough to where I can…where I can destroy it before…" 9 trailed off, closing his eyes and sighing heavily. 5's eyes widened as he finally realized what 9 was saying.

"That's why you wouldn't let us heal you. You think you're going to die!" 5 cried, suddenly realizing 9's true intentions. 9 looked away, his features contorted in a pain both physical and emotional. He had never wanted 5 to leave him again, or he, 5. Nevertheless, the only way they would ever be truly safe was to destroy the Fabrication Machine. 9 then looked up at 5, struggling to keep a hold on his emotions.

"5, please, keep them safe. I know you can do it. Our mission will be finished and the world will be safe for us." 9 said as he began to turn away. However, 5 was quick in grabbing 9's shoulders and keeping him still, looking intensely into his eyes.

"9, you don't have to do this! You don't have to die. You can't! You're my best friend, and I made a promise. A promise, 9. 'Don't you leave him, 5!' And I don't mean to! I don't mean to, so you have to stay! Please, 9, please stay…" 5 begged, holding to 9's shoulders tightly in agony, staring up at him in desperation. 9 sighed sadly, reaching up and taking 5's hands in his own, clasping them tightly. 5 shook his head lightly, his lower lip quivering.

"5…you are my best friend. You always will be. And I will always be with you, like you were for me. Just trust me. But I have to end this war – for you all and for the sake of this world. I will do whatever it takes to keep my family safe. Trust me. It'll be alright." 9 said softly, pleading for 5 to understand. The two shared a long gaze before the poor one-eyed ragdoll wrapped his arms around his best friend's shoulders, giving a cry of grief. 9 embraced him back, shutting his eyes tightly and biting his lower lip. In those moments, he felt as if he had never loved his best friend more. It wasn't fair. But he must. It must be done. The war must end.

Then, 9 gently pushed on 5's chest, pulling himself from his desperate grasp. He shouldn't have even been saying goodbye to 5. He should have just turned around and run away. The goodbye was painful heartbreaking. But it had to be done. None of the others were ever going to die because of him again. 5 gazed up at him, his lower lip trembling, his arms sliding from his shoulders. He then saw what 9 had clutched in his hands – a match from his pack. 5 looked from the match to 9's face. 9 looked back at him, his gaze intense. With this final look, 9 said his final goodbye to 5 before –

A huge column of rock was groaning crashing down to the earth. The Fabrication Machine had pulverized the stone outcropping in order to get to the stitchpunks. The deafening crashes echoed throughout the Barrens as the column of rock fell straight towards 9 and 5. Before the older of the two could overcome his panic and shock and do a single thing, 9 grabbed his shoulders and acted as quickly as his weak body possibly could. Gathering the very last ounces of his strength, 9 shoved 5 with as much force as he could muster. The Healer was pitched forward with a cry, stumbling into the dirt and grass and the column of stone crashed to the ground. 9 stumbled backwards, thrown into the air as the rock shook the ground. It completely blocked the narrow passage of the chasm.

9 landed on his back, groaning as another jolt of pain shot through his body. Forcing himself to open his eyes, 9 saw that he was now separated from the other stitchpunks, who were now on the other side of the rock.

"9!" He heard 5 shriek his name in horror. He allowed himself a sigh of relief, for that meant 5 was alright and safe on the other side of the blockage. He couldn't answer 5 as the Fabrication Machine towered over him, glaring at him with the single crimson eye. The light bounced and reflected off the raindrops pattering on its metallic body. 9 acted as quickly as he possibly could, grabbing the light staff beside him and the match while had thankfully landed underneath an overhang and was still dry. Overcome with an intense, overpowering emotion and determination, 9 managed to get his feet underneath him and wave the glowing light staff at the Fabrication Machine, immediately catching its attention.

"This way! Follow me!" 9 shouted, running through a small, narrow opening that led to the immense, vast fields of the Barrens. These fields were covered in short, dead grass, trees and rocks dotting the way until everything blended into the mists of the mountains so very far away. The Machine shrieked and immediately followed, easily climbing over the rocky outcroppings and into the field, dragging its enormous body behind itself. 9 saw that everywhere it walked, oil dripped from the underside of its body. That was very good. As he entered the slightly taller grass, 9's tan skin color blended easily with the dead plant life. As he quickly ducked down behind a rock, the Machine screamed as it lost its prey in the field.

9 waited to strike the match until the Machine passed very close to him. He struck it against the rock he was hidden behind, shielding it with his hands against the rain. He mustered up his quickly waning strength, ignored the throbbing of his shoulder, threw the flame to the Machine and watched as it screamed in agony as fire immediately engulfed it. 9 then tightened his fists around his staff, feeling the cool metal underneath his fingertips. He bowed his head, leaning against the rock and taking a moment to think about his coven. He wished he'd had a chance to say goodbye, but he knew that they wouldn't allow him to do this. His fist clenched his light staff as he exhaled slowly. This was the only way. He must do this.

Opening his eyes once more he got to his feet. Missing them all terribly, he began to run through the burning field. The searing pain that coursed through his body didn't slow him as he struggled through the fire, to the Fabrication Machine, which was screeching as the fire engulfed it and every place it had dripped oil, curling the grass. But it wouldn't kill it. It was too strong at the moment. Hopefully, it was injured bad enough to where it would be easy to wound, to kill.

"No!" An agonizingly familiar voice rang out. He turned in shock and surprise as a force slammed into him and brought him sprawling to the ground painfully. Looking up, he found himself staring into the blazing, inferno-reflecting eyes of 7.

"Are you insane?!" She yelled as she grasped his arm and helped him to get up. His injuries made him wince, but his decision was not wavered. 5 must have immediately gone to her, knowing that she was the only other person who could possibly stop him. She could easily get over the blockage in the chasm and get to him. 9 turned away from her, looking back to the enraged Fabrication Machine.

"I have to kill it." 9 said, his hands tightening around the staff. 7 grabbed his arm, her fingers tight. He looked down at her in surprise.

"No! You're too hurt. Let me, or – or 5 do it. Please, just not you." She pleaded, looking back into his eyes, pulling him closer to her. He inhaled slowly and exhaled the same, looking down at her with agonized eyes. He stuck the light staff into the ground and took her hands in his, squeezing tightly. He looked at her, expression soft.

"I'm not risking any of you. It's got to be me. It's my fault that this thing is still alive. This war needs to end and I need to be the one to do it." He replied, voice barely audible over the roaring fire, he said this so softly. 7 stared up at him in disbelief, shaking her head.

"No, 9. We can't lose you! I can't lose you. 9, please…" 7 protested, holding fast to his hands. 9 sighed, bowing his head and closing his eyes. This was his final goodbye and it was to the woman he loved. In those moments, he was extremely thankful that she had come after him. Now he would be able to let go with some sort of consolation. He was able to say goodbye to the two people he loved most dearly.

"I will protect you. I'm not going to risk any of you ever again. You all are going to get out of here and you can live your lives the way it was intended." 9 said softly. 7 just tightened her grip. Her voice faltered, straining with the emotion that was slipping through her shield.

"But what about you? I nearly lost you once. Please don't leave us, 9." 7 pleaded, staring hard at him, into his eyes. Grief and devastation overcame her at the thought of losing him.

"7. I need you to stay. You and 5. You must protect them. Protect them all, for me." He said, pleading, looking into her eyes as well, squeezing her hands tightly. She looked up, back into his eyes. They were soft and full of understanding. She bent her head, unable to look in them any longer, her heart compressing painfully.

"I…I can't lose you, 9," she whispered, bringing their intertwined hands to her chest, where her heart lay. 9 felt her heartbeat and he furrowed his brow. He leaned towards her and looked intensely into her eyes, his own unfathomable.

"You are strong, 7. You are strong and your strength will protect them when I can't." He said softly, but fiercely. 7 shook her head, staring up at him again. Her lower lip trembled as she leaned towards him.

"Please. Don't leave." She pleaded, agony evident in her face and her eyes. 9 could only close his eyes and bend his head. He couldn't bear to see her, or any of the others killed by the Machine again. He needed to end the war and free the others from the threat of the Machines. He wished 7 would understand that. He wished 7 would understand that he loved her with his very soul and would never, ever leave her. He leaned forward, and gently touched the tips of his optics with hers in goodbye. She pressed back, her breathing trembling. The two stood there for a few moments in time, rain soaking their fabric bodies and fire roaring around them. 9 silently said his final goodbye.

He then withdrew from her slowly, sighing and picked up his staff from the ground. In the Spider Beast attack, the monsters had torn the leather strap from 9 and the pen blade was lost. But 9 didn't care. He wouldn't need it any longer. He gently pressed the light staff into 7's hand, curling her fingers around it. He then reached behind her and grabbed her spear from the ground as well. 7 looked up at him in grief and shock.

9 merely leaned back towards her and again touched her optics with his. He closed his eyes tightly, using his free hand to clutch hers tightly, bringing it to his lips and giving her hand the lightest kiss. 7's only reaction was to squeeze his hand even tighter. He inhaled and exhaled slowly, knowing that this was it, the last time he'd ever see her again. He withdrew, taking a step away from her.

"9," 7 whispered, still clinging tightly to his hand. He compressed her hand back, reassuringly and warmly.

"It will be okay." He said, so soft she nearly didn't hear him. "Don't be afraid."

Before she knew it, he tore himself away from her, fist tightening around her spear, and went to meet his greatest enemy in the world. 7 watched him as he disappeared into the inferno, her heart snapping as she decided against everything she went for and ran after him, dodging the flames the best she could, the skullmet pulled over her face.

9 had taken her spear so he would have a piece of 7 with him when he died. He wanted her to hold the light to keep the other's hopes up. He faced the Fabrication Machine, no longer afraid and it looked down at him, bathing him in the blood-red light. With flaming claws, it reached out and tried to grab him, try to crush him, but he dodged, remembering every last thing 7 had taught him about facing the Machines. He pursed his lips together to keep the screams inside of him from echoing out as the pain seared through him. All he needed to do was wait until it was weak enough. His race against time was one he was losing…

Suddenly he took a wrong sidestep and one burning claw tripped him, sending him sprawling to the ground. The pain seared through him as he lay on his chest, trying to breathe. His limbs shaking, he tried to heave himself to his feet as the claw was raised high in the air. 9's knees shook as he tried to stand. Breathing was painful and each breath he took was more like a gasp. As soon as 9 regained his footing, standing on trembling knees, the Fabrication Machine slammed the white-hot claw down on top of him and he crumpled to the ground.

9's side gave another surge of pain once again, so terribly that he screamed involuntarily, unable to help it. He lay on the ground limply, no longer able to move. He was crumpled, broken. As his eyesight began to waver in and out of focus rapidly, 9 realized that the Fabrication Machine had broken his right optic, that the glass covering had cracked. His breathing was labored, and it hurt to even try to pull in a breath. The Machine towered above him, glaring at the limp, broken ragdoll. It reached forward and with one enormous, iron claw, it clutched the tiny, delicate wrist of the ragdoll, lifting him into the air slowly.

It looked at him with loathing. Reaching up with another claw, it grasped the minute zipper upon his chest and pulled down roughly, reaching inside of his limp body. He could not move to stop it. The two notes from the Scientist flew out of his chest and into the air. They drifted down into the slowly dying fire where they burned into scorching embers and finally became meaningless ash. 9 felt the claws reach inside of him, close around the talisman in his chest and bring it out of his body. If it got the talisman, it would go after his coven and the war would start all over again.

Convening the last of his strength, 9 managed to raise 7's spear over his head, and he thrust it into the joint of the claw that held him tightly and painfully by the wrist. The Machine shrieked and recoiled its claw, releasing his wrist and dropping 9, to where he fell to the earth below limply. He landed hard on his chest, the air whooshing from his lungs. 9 lay motionless on the ground, winded, staring at the fire. He was broken, crumpled, paralyzed. He could only try to breathe and blink, the pain searing angrily through his frail body. The Machine above him roared in triumph as it held the talisman to its eye. Retribution would soon be within its grasp, as would nine life-giving souls.

9 managed to lift his head and look up at the Machine towering over him, snarling. He placed his hands underneath him and pushed against the ground as hard as he could. His arms were shaking violently, his breathing trembling. Everything was dark. His vision was beginning to fade and it became blurred. He could barely see through his broken optic. The Machine no more than a screaming mound, a dark, evil mountain standing tall above the fire. It had the talisman, but also the heart. Everything was wavering in front of him, making him dizzy. Everything seemed to dim in sound, except his strenuous, trembling breathing. He was fading fast and it needed to be done. He needed to finish this war. 9 knew that he was dying.

9 finally was standing on trembling knees, reaching down and wrapping his fingers around the hilt of the spear. He clutched his zipper and zipped himself up, almost unconsciously doing so. Now that he was dying, he was in a different state of mind, another world almost. His one and only priority was to kill the Fabrication Machine and save his coven. In those moments, he thought of nothing else, not the pain, or the fire. His fingers tightened around the hilt of the spear, and in his mind, the hilt was her hand, a piece of his 7. He began to run, summoning every single ounce of remaining, exhausted strength he had left, ignoring the pain that coursed tortuously through his body. He then skidded to a stop right in front of the Machine, which looked scathingly down at him. He raised the spear high above his head and plunged it deep, very deep, through the glowing orb. Its phosphoric radiance illuminated his face and blinded him, but he kept the blade in it, his fingers in a death grip, pushing the blade through the orb, throwing all of his weight onto the hilt.

He was yelling, yelling out loud, out of pain and triumph as the Fabrication Machine shrieked piercingly above him. He only pushed the blade as far as he could into the orb, his limbs shaking violently. Immediately, the blue lines of the orb began to creep up from the crackling orb onto the Machine's body, and it shrieked in pain. 9 kept pushing in the blade until it could go no further. He was grimacing, the pain increasing severely. Then, the Machine reached down with a single spindly arm and the claws locked themselves around his waist. He cried out, recoiling. The Fabrication Machine lifted him from the ground, glaring at him maliciously. The blade slid out of the orb, crackling and dripping with the glowing bright blue energy, 9's fingers unwilling to let go of his piece of 7. Nevertheless he was very weak and the blade slid through his fingers, falling to the earth far below with a clang.

9's head slumped against his shoulder, for he had no more strength to even keep it up as the Machine's eye bathed him in crimson light. He blinked at the light, squinting, every single ounce of his strength gone. The poor young man was exhausted and could no longer move. He merely lay in the clutches of the Machine limply, staring right back at it. Raindrops darkened his cheeks, running down them like tears. The pounding of his heart, each final beat, seemed feeble, and his breathing was ragged.

The blue lines crept up the Machine's body, slowly wrapping themselves around its large metallic structure. It was swiftly dying, as the Spine Machine had. With a shivering claw it raised the talisman towards 9. Although it was overturned, it hardly made any difference. He stared at it, not screaming nor struggling.

9 had finished their mission, and the war was now over. There was no escape from the Machine and knew that this was it – his short life was over. He found himself thinking of his coven now, in the end of all things. The faces of 5 and 7 lingered within his mind's eye. He blinked again as the symbols glowed the familiar bright green and the talisman ruptured open, electricity crackling around it. 9 sighed and closed his eyes slowly, resting his head upon his shoulder. He was fading, the world around him darkening. 9's senses left him as he took his last, shuddering breath. He knew that this was the end and yet, he wasn't afraid. His family was safe and that was all that mattered. The war was over. He was going to quietly accept death in knowing he had finally done the right thing.

There was a roar, like rushing wind. Something struck him jarringly and for a mere moment in time, it floated inside of him like a breath of life. Then he felt the pain. It was excruciating, beyond all imagination. However, the pain was so intense he could hardly register it. It was beyond anything of comparison, something that wasn't of reality. 9 couldn't think past the pain, knowing that the three deadly lights were stealing away his soul. Then, as the end of the experience drew near, 9 was able to hope that they forgave him for what he had done and that they would live out their lives, finally safe, finally free.

And then it was all black, and he knew no more.

7 stopped running through the field, her eyes wide in horror. The Machine had 9 in its grasp, staring him down. He didn't struggle or scream, but lay there limply. He had finally given up the fight. He was going to accept his fate quietly. The Machine raised the quivering talisman to him, the eerie green glow illuminating his face. The light, however, was upturned and instead of entering his frail body through eyes and mouth, it invaded him through his mouth and the space between his neck and zipper, where his heart lay.

"No!" 7 screamed, louder than she had ever in her life. She could only stand, frozen in shock, as she watched 9 die before her. "NO!"

Outside the field, the seven others watched the scene in horror.

"No! NO!" 5 screamed, trying to rush into the field, trying to somehow get to 9, but 1 quickly held him back by the shoulders. He struggled fiercely but then 2 wrapped his arms around 5's chest tightly, holding him away from the monster.

"There's nothing you can do, he's lost!" 1 shouted, trembling, releasing the younger man while 5 continued to scream, dropping down to his knees in the dirt.

"NO! 9, NO!" He cried, breaking down into heavy sobs. His body was shaking violently. He could only scream "no" again as the light withdrew from his best friend's body back into the talisman. 5 felt nothing but anguish as he lie on the ground, bent over as his screams of agony filled the air. 2 sank down beside him, looking at the dying monster with misery as 5 continued to sob uncontrollably. His best friend…his best friend…he was gone. Forever.

The others stood frozen, horrified, the twins burying their faces into their hands, unable to watch as the light retreated into the talisman.

Back in the field, the thin blue lines had finally enfolded the Machine completely. It began to shake violently and then it exploded. Its immense body was ruptured inside out, the Scientist's creation finally meeting its final demise. The Fabrication Machine's lifeless body toppled to the ground, piece by piece. It was soon engulfed in ravenous flames, never to fight another day. The talisman and 9's limp, lifeless body fell from its claws and disappeared into the smoke and flames.

7 then unfroze herself and darted across the field, rushing towards the mound of melting metal that was once the Machine. The wind was roaring furiously now, causing the rain to sting her fabric skin the dancing inferno lick eagerly at her knees, shoulders and elbows. She winced in pain as they burned unmercifully, but she kept running. She finally rushed out into the clearing where the Machine had fallen, along with 9.

7 stopped abruptly in the moist dirt as the black smoke from the fire swirled around her. She panted as she whirled around in all directions, her eyes raking the space around her, desperately searching for 9. Finally, through the thick, suffocating smoke, she saw him. He was laying on his side, lifeless, a thin line of ribbon-like grey smoke rising from his broken body.

"No, NO!" She screamed as she ran to 9, dropping to her knees beside him. Embers fell to the ground as the grass curled under the flames. The crackle and popping sounds of the wood as the trees were devoured by the ever-ravenous inferno echoed through the air. Rocks, untouched, stood beside them as 7 turned him to lie on his back. She gave a strangled cry as she looked upon him.

His eyes were closed instead of open, forever staring and seeing nothing. The light, instead, had punctured through his chest and a smoking hole was burned through the smoldering, blackened burlap.

9 was dead.

7 cried out, bending over him, the rain pooling around them. She then looked up, trying to see through the diminishing fire. She wasn't going to let his cold body burn up into meaningless ash. He didn't deserve that.

7 picked him up, wrapping her arms around his torso, pulling her skullmet over her face. 9's body slumped over, still dragging along the ground. 7 was weak and was unable to lift him onto her shoulders and run them both out of the fire. She tried to walk through the fire, but that soon drained away the last of her strength. Suddenly, the wind blew ferociously, sweeping a billowing, but dying flame in 7's direction. It engulfed her left arm. She screamed in pain and dropped to her knees, holding her smoldering arms to her chest and bending over in pain.

Rain soaked her as she sat, trying to overcome the pain. Looking up, she saw where she had dropped 9. No longer able to walk, she crawled over to 9, keeping her burned arm to her chest. Although the rain extinguished the cinders that had burned her arm, the pain still blinded her. She began to succumb to the weakness, something she was never supposed to ever allow, but her heart had changed. She had finally allowed 9 into her heart and used his love as her strength.

But now, everything had changed. 9 was suddenly gone – he had left her. 7 coughed, trembling all over. The rain caused dark, ash-filled streaks to run from underneath her optics down her cheeks. She was weak, vulnerable, all things a warrior never should be. This horror, shock, and devastation crumbled her emotional shield like a huge, unmerciful army invading a fortress. 7 lay beside 9, wrapping her uninjured arm around him, protecting him the best she could. If she was to die, then she would die beside him and wouldn't have it any other way.

Sudden warmth, not like fire, was on her shoulder and strong, familiar arms were underneath her, lifting her from the ground. 9's body slid out of her own arms, for she was too weak to hold onto him any longer.

"It's okay, it's alright." 5 consoled her as he carried 7 out of the field. She panted, dazed and confused. The sky above was an inky black-blue, rain pouring down in the night. 7 curled into the arms that held her, trembling with shock and grief.

"Get him, get him, don't leave him there!" She screamed, trying to look around him to see if they were saving 9 as well, reaching out behind 5 towards the flames.

"We're getting him, we are." 5 said, his voice trembling as he cradled 7 against his chest. Blessed cool soaked her body and she was thankful for the relief from the burns on her white fabric. As 7 stared at the fire, seeing the grass curling under the inferno's command, she saw two indistinct shapes appearing through the thick smoke and ash.

5 finally lie her down on the ground and she lay, breathing heavily, curled up on her side. Rain slid off of her fabric and they gathered on her optics, streaking down her cheeks as if tears. 5 stroked her shoulder, speaking softly to her, trying to calm the traumatized female. She barely heard what he said as she saw 8 and 6 emerge from the fire. 6 was trembling violently, his eyes wide with shock and fright at what had happened. 8 wore an expression 7 had never seen him wear. It was one of grief, but bewilderment etched within the angst, as he looked down upon the lifeless body he held gently in his arms.

"9!" 7 screamed hoarsely and she scrambled to her feet, throwing 5's hand from her shoulder as 8 lowered 9's body to the ground. 6 was carrying the two staffs, laying them alongside 9, his black and white face, too, streaked with ash and water. 7 pushed past him as she dropped to her knees beside 9.

"No," she breathed, bending over him. She forced herself to not look at the slash in his chest, but only at his face. 7 wrapped her arms around his body and lifted him into her lap, bending over him. Her entire form trembled as she looked into his emotionless face. His eyes were closed tightly, lips just slightly parted. There was a dark, deep burn right through the fabric between his neck and zipper. Some of the front of his collar was burned away, leaving charred, blackened burlap. The top of the small, circular mechanical box that served as his heart showed through the burn, the metal slightly blackened. It no longer made the familiar pounding, ticking beat that signified life. 9 merely lay in 7's lap, his head resting in her arms.

7's heart was hard and protected. Her emotions were encased in a tight blockade, never to be released. But 9, her dearest friend, was lying in her arms, lifeless and growing colder and colder. Right then and there, her hard heart broke clean and true. 9 was gone. Just as a glimmer of hope had broken through the war the stitchpunks fought, he was taken away from them in a mere instant in time.

7 couldn't keep her emotions locked within her – especially the emotions reserved for the man she sat beside. 7 bowed her head, wrapping her arms around 9 and touching her forehead to his. She let go, and she did something a warrior is never supposed to do.

7 began to cry.

Crying was a sign of weakness, and a warrior could allow no weakness. However, 7 didn't care. All she cared about was her best friend, her 9, lying lifeless in the dirt, and no amount of pleading could bring him back. The coven stared on, horrified and heartbroken. 5 walked forward, reaching out with a trembling hand.

"9," 5 whispered before he sank to his knees beside 9 and 7. Looking into 9's quiet face, he bent his head, closed his eye, and began to cry. He cried alongside 7, his shoulders heaving as he sobbed in agony.

7 sobbed in agony, tightening her grip on 9 and touching her temple to his own, thinking of nothing but him. He had left them – left her – alone in the world. He was never coming back. 2 covered his eyes and sank to his knees, crying softly 1 stood still, staring at 9 with an unfathomable expression of sadness. He took off his crown and let it fall to the ground, bowing his head. 8, who had his arms around both 1 and 6, bowed his head, his lower lip quivering. 6 covered his eyes with his hands, trembling from the cold and with grief.

3 and 4 had crept over to sit near 9's legs. 4 was flickering slowly, feebly as he reached out and touched 9's knee. He immediately withdrew as he felt the deathly cold. 4 shook his head lightly in shock, then bent over and covered his eyes with his hands, sobbing hard, while 3 held his brother close, rocking him back and forth. He buried his face into 4's shoulder, crying as they sat beside their elder brother, knowing he was dead.

"9…9…" 7 whispered his name in anguish, as if she could call him back. But nothing would. He had gone where she couldn't call him back. His soul was trapped inside the talisman, and he was left lifeless. The darkness of the night seemed to engulf 7, and she closed her eyes, rocking 9 gently. 5 reached up and grasped her shoulder, rubbing it reassuringly. 7 didn't care who tried to comfort her. She didn't care who saw her cry. All she wanted was her 9 back.

2 then hobbled forward slowly and bent next to 7 and 5. He rubbed her back and his faint voice barely reached her hearing sensors as she looked up at him. Her hearing and her sight seemed to blur. Her body was shutting down, weakened from the grief and fire.

"We must go home." He said, lifting his hands and brushing away the rain streaking down her cheeks. She looked at him for a moment before turning her gaze back down to 9. Bending her head, 7 gave a rattling sigh, closing her eyes. Her body swayed as she passed out from the sheer, unrelenting exhaustion. As she fell backwards, 5 caught her body and eased her down to the ground, where she lay beside 9.

All was silent for a moment while 5 looked up to his coven. Without being asked, without anyone saying anything at all, 8 stepped forward. He bent down before the three stitchpunks and reached out, gently scooping up the unconscious woman in his strong arms. He held her tenderly, his hard heart changed as well. 8 turned away, rain dripping off of his shoulder pads, as 5 gratefully patted his arm. 1 joined 8 by his side as he led the others out of the field. The other stitchpunks began to follow him.

5 watched them as they walked away before looking back down to the body of his best friend. He could only stare down at 9 for a moment, his lower lips trembling. He simply couldn't believe that his best friend was taken away from him in a single instant – that he was gone forever. Bending down, 5 wrapped his arms around 9's shoulders and brought him to his buttoned chest. 9's head slumped over lifelessly, resting against 5's chest. 5 looked miserably down at 9, limp and lifeless in his arms. He didn't know what to do. 5 loved him with all of his heart, and in the blink of an eye, he was gone. With a quiet cry, 5 bent his head and held 9 closely, mourning his best friend.

2 had paused for a moment, watching his son in agony as he shared a quiet moment mourning 9. He then tenderly slipped his arms underneath 9 and stood, cradling his best friend's cadaver in his arms. Bending his head in sorrow, 5 slowly began to walk after the others. The heartbroken coven then began to head home as the smoke engulfed the field, the dead embers, now just meaningless ash, filled the sky around them like snow.