Heads-up on an upcoming wait; I'm taking some time off the computer to help with my health. Enjoy the chapter :) This chapter's been planned for ages...


Lifeforce Chapter 53

"The truth." Dumbledore sighed. "It is a beautiful and terrible thing, and should therefore be treated with great caution."
J.K. Rowling,Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone

The Mischievous Brother of Thor

Through the ocean of darkness, a soft sound carried through the thickness. Like a bell above water, at first it was muted and muffled. It was hard to make out. His ears strained to hear it. Yet at the same time, he was afraid, and wished that if he did hear it, it would be further away...

But it wasn't. It was closer now, and he could make it out. Muffled laughter. Not the child's scream he'd heard in these dreams again and again, this time it was laughter...

Suddenly it broke through, though it was flanked by distorted echoes. The small, soft chuckle of a child. Then, after a pause, another laugh came towards him – jarring him. A deeper voice, a man's voice, a snicker.

...

Ratchet jerked from his sleep, startling Clank awake. The robot had bonked his head against the side of the seat. Ratchet had fallen asleep sideways on the chair; leaning against the back of the seat from the side, his legs dangling over the arm rest. Cronk was minding the steering, humming quietly to himself, as Zephyr poked the Disc on the shoulder-belt curiously. Currently powering their ship, the little disc had not lost any of its light. Ratchet rubbed his chin, groggily wondering just how long that tiny bit of Lifeforce would last...

"Ratchet...?" He blinked groggily. He looked over his shoulder and found Clank looking at him, blinking back at him.

"Oh- sorry, Pal. You okay?"

"I am fine...Did you have another vision?" Ratchet almost felt awkward that Clank was so blatant, but then again, he had seen little pink Zoni fluttering around his visions. Ratchet wished all he'd seen where friendly little creatures, not giggling crazy –

"...There was a voice. First a kid's...then a guy's." He said quietly, knowing Zephyr and Cronk would flip their lids at 'ghosty visions' and begin pointing their weapons at some unseen enemy. Clank frowned thoughtfully,

"Hmm...Was it a voice we know?"

"...I think I heard the kid's voice before. But...it wasn't...laughing..." His stomach gave a horrible twist as he remembered. Clank tilted his head.

"...What...?"

"Screaming. I'd hear this kid screaming...but now he was laughing. Crazy, huh?" He forced a laugh. Clank shook his head slowly,

"We cannot ignore these, Ratchet. My visions aided me on my way. Perhaps these more vague messages will do the same."

"I dunno if what's in the Lifeforce are as trustworthy as the Zoni, Clank." Ratchet admitted, rubbing the side of his face. "That reminds me...I didn't mention something else."

Clank blinked, but remained interested, "What is it, Ratchet?"

"...Whenever I was...dreaming, or seeing these things...sometimes I'd see something that looked like a Thora hovering around. Whenever it did it was closer...and things got colder..." He murmured, avoiding Clank's gaze. "Ickabar's notes mentioned something dangerous in the Lifeforce, and I'm beginning to think this is it..."

"Hmm...If it is a Thora, perhaps it is helpful." Clank said, but then stopped – "But...did IRIS not say all of them where...gone...?"

"Ghosties!" Cronk suddenly yelped. Zephyr, raised his arms, looking around in slight unease,

"Ghosts of Ghosties!"

"Guys!" Ratchet waved his arms at them, "Calm down, there's nothing in here!" But Zephyr's worried words rang through his head like a gong, again and again. Ghosts of Ghosts...

No. When things died, they were dead. These visions where just...like downloaded date, recorded. But then what did he think was in the Lifeforce...?

He sighed, "I don't know what it is, Clank..."

"So far it has led us right." Clank said, placing a hand on his shoulder, "Even if its motives are not as pure as ours, it obviously does not want the villains to succeed in using the Lifeforce for their evil ways..."

Ratchet glanced sideways, for some reason, finding himself looking at Trisby. At the back of the ship by the window, her eyes closed, breathing steadily as the nanotech aided her wound. Trust the untrustworthy...

"I guess we'll have to." He muttered, "But the voice...I still don't know what it means." And he didn't want to.

"That ghostie mojo is messin' with all your heads." Cronk scoffed.

...

Orange leaped from the grind rail with a cackle, flipping over a startled hover-car. Meters behind him came his armoured chaser, landing on top of the now spinning hover car and kicking off it like a gymnast from a spring board. Orange pulled out a rod from his coat, flipping a switch – and it igniting with a buzz of electricity. Above him the other lombax lifted his wrench and brought it down full force, hitting against the rod. A burst of light whipped into the air, and Orange flung himself back – miraculously stretching out a hand and back-flipping onto the skyscraper below.

The armoured lombax had a far less graceful landing – he toppled down through a few rows of speeding traffic before his wrench hit against another building – and began scraping down it like a nail on chalkboard to slow his fall onto the suspended road below. Sparks flew out from both sides, showering bystanders below and sending them running.

The metal-covered lombax landed on the road below and began sprinting towards the building opposite, Orange grinning down at him for a second before taking off again; leaping to the next building. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the tell-tale colours of Tachyon's cruisers...

His grin broadened and he tossed a look over his shoulder. The other lombax had scaled the higher building behind him with his boots and was at level with him again, not too far behind.

Hee.

..

"Incoming transmission from: Nevo Binklemire."

"Who the heck is this binkie?" Cronk called, throwing a creaking arm into the air. Clank and Ratchet shared a bemused look before hurrying over to the controls. Trisby lifting her head from her chest and rose a brow, "The tharpods...?"

Ratchet hit 'accept,' "Nevo?"

"Ratchet the lombax?" A hasty, husky voice called over – sounding out of breath and panicked. Ratchet looked at Clank again once more, shrugging,

"Uh, yeah...why are you calling us? How did you-"

"There is no time, you must get to Kortog – there's no way Frumpus and I will make it in time!"

His worry flew from the transmitter and right into Ratchet's chest, "Kortog? Why – what's going on?"

"The lombax in the armour – he is being led by that criminal into what we are sure is a trap – Tachyon's forces have just landed in the very same sector of the very same city that they are in!" The tharpod said in a rush. Ratchet felt his body go cold.

"He can handle it, right...? He got away from Tachyon before..." He tried to reassure himself but failed. Clank shook his head urgently,

"He was undercover, I believe – Ratchet, we must help him!"

"If we boost the hover-drive we could maybe get there..." Zephyr mumbled. Dr Croid not-so-insane-anymore voice rang out next,

"By the looks of it our friend here doesn't realize that tyrant is on the planet, Ratchet – you must find a way to warn him at least!"

Ratchet nodded, though he had no idea how. "Okay – we're gonna go into hyper-drive and try to find him."

"I'll try to scramble the drophid communications, but it'll only buy us a little time!" Nevo replied, sounding more serious than panicked, at least, "Make it count...!"

...

The armoured lombax skidded to a halt. In front of the building he was currently on was an intersection; various rows of suspending roads crossing over each other in a confusing jumble. Breathing in and out steadily to catch his breath, he searched for a trace of orange, his grip on his wrench strengthening. Then he saw him – Orange has hover-blasted himself onto the highest road. He was aiming high per usual.

Scowling beneath his mask, he activating his gravity boots and leaped upwards, kicking off the first road to the next. He reached out and gripped the side of the metallic surface and dragged himself up, breaking into a sprint. Orange looked over his shoulder and flashed a grin, leaping onto yet another grind rail, incredibly high off the ground.

Huffing, he quickened his pace. But his legs where aching now after so much running, and he detected a stitch threatening to pull in his side.

He leaped onto the rail, wobbling a little. Orange was not that far ahead now. Shaking his head to rid it of its grogginess, he focused on his target.

They slid along, Orange no longer glancing back at him. He was idly wondering if he could gravity-boost the rest of the distance when he saw the end of the rail – a dead end over a pretty high drop.

The ending point was directly over what looked like a dock for various ships, no space port, but perhaps just a regular parking lot for larger hover-cars. It was a broad building in the shadow of many taller ones...it was like a dip in the city.

He expected Orange to leap down, and he seemed ready to do so – his back bent, his head bent towards that target...but then suddenly he activated his hoverboots and lifted higher, much higher than regular boots would allow, into the air. The armoured lombax raised his head, surprised.

Orange hovered where he was, going back the way he came and passing his foe – flashing a menacing grin. He laughed loudly, waving meanly down at him – looking...smug.

The armoured lombax turned his head and leaped from the grind rail. His boots allowed him to jump, not hover in mid-air like that. He fell down towards the parking lot beneath him, activating said boots at the last moment to break his fall. His body ached with exhaustion at this point, but he felt a twinge of worry over it all. Landing in a crouch, he peered around the very, very empty dock around him.

"..."

Something big and heavy landed directly in front of him with a slam. The ground jumped beneath him, and he barely managed to stand from the shake of the force. He strained his neck and stepped back, staring up at the cragmite in front of him. Tachyon was right in front of him, the shadow of his throne cast over him, blocking out the sunny sky above.

The lombax's fingers curled against his palms and he paced backwards, slowly. Tachyon's face split into a sickly grin and the throne began advancing towards him, heavy stomps rippling through the ground to the soles of the lombax's feet, in sync with the pounding pulse of his heart, exhausted from running...

But inside, below the mask and hidden gaze, blossomed something red, hot and burning. As searing as the hate the cragmite felt right now.

...it had been...long...

His shoulders hunched and he pulled his wrench from his back. Tachyon cackled lowly, "It has been far too long since I had this pleasure, you mute delinquent – you where foolish to show yourself so boldly..."

His taunt earned no response. The lombax said nothing, knees bent, waiting. Tachyon's smile faded and he sneered. No more waiting this time.

The throne threw out two rounds of homing missiles; the lombax leaped back and threw his wrench to intercept one; side-stepping the other at the last second so it hit the ground. It distracted him for a moment – and from the corner of his eye he saw the arm of the throne snaking out to catch his leg.

He swung his wrench, smacking it back. He leaped onto it, next, running out up it like a mad little spider. Tachyon's eyes bulged in fury, but it melted into a smirk – the lombax felt annoyances, lifting his wrench to hit the insect – but then the arm gave a jolt, sending him flying upwards.

He kicked his leg out to twist his body around, to steady himself – but he wasn't quick enough. He felt the metal hand seize his ankle and slam him downwards.

The lombax's back hit the ground with a crunch. He could feel his armour denting. Snapping out of it, he kicked with his free leg and hit against the hand with his wrench, only for Tachyon to growl and throw him with all the throne's might at the ground a few meters away.

He collided awkwardly, tumbling and turning as he rolled across the hard surface. He felt his arms twist and his legs tangle. For a second, his body was numb from the smack against the floor.

The throne materialized right beside him next. He lifted his head and rolled; the foot that had tried to slam down on him missed him by a millisecond. Tachyon gave a frustrated bellow and both arms came from him from both in front and behind – the lombax ducked and banked under the throne, tossing his wrench up at the back of the cragmite's head-

A shield flickered into sight, causing the wrench to fly back at him. The weary lombax didn't have time to dodge his own wrench – it struck him in the chest.

He stumbled back, winded. Tachyon giving a grating laugh, "Pathetic whelp!"

The throne kicked him, this time hitting him full force. He felt his already aching body jerk and something in his chest break. A rib.

He landed with a flop, a heavy pulsed pounding in his head. He heard the stomp of the throne and the jolt of alarm allowed him to reached out and push himself onto his knees, his helmet looking towards the throne. Tachyon's smug smile greeted him next.

"..." He stood, flexing his fingers. No wrench. He sprinted forward. Tachyon fired a laser beam his way; he dodged it easily, avoiding the next one with a little less ease. The metal hand came at him again, and he ducked, grabbing onto the forearm and swinging upward, kicking the throne with both legs – it tipped back just a hint, nowhere near enough to top it. Tachyon gritted his teeth and swatted at him with the other arm.

The lombax let go and dove beneath the throne again, scooping up his fallen wrench. Tachyon's throne de-materialised and re-appeared in front of him again. The lombax gave a huff and swung his wrench at the arm of the throne now – if he couldn't hit the insect he could take down his-

He slipped backwards and hit the ground. The other throne's arm had slinked beneath him and grabbed his leg, catching him off guard. He was lifted awards, not tossed, and he swung an arm around at the cragmite as he was brought high – missing badly.

The other fist punched him directly in his damaged chest. He jolted, the pain freezing him – and next he felt himself being swung downwards and into the ground, but not released. His leg landed against the ground at a bad angle and he felt it snap –

He bit down hard on his lip, his body curling up a little. Tachyon chortled quietly to himself before swinging the lombax again, onto his side – his shoulder hit the floor with a crack.

The lombax's head swam. He was so tired, and his body felt so heavy...

His helmet had cracked. A small piece of the metal fell away, and his eye saw through, groggy in the sunlight.

His own breathing filled up the inside of his helmet, husky. "..."

The lombax gagged. The hand of the throne had seized him around the neck, dragging him off the ground and into the air. Slowly the grip tightened. He lifted his sore arms to pry at its hold or at the very least support himself – but it didn't help.

Tachyon brought him up at eye-level. He had expected more, but no amount of prolonged pounding of the runt could make him feel anymore satisfaction. He could see one of his eyes through the small hole in the helmet, not its colour – but the reflective surface of a pupil, staring groggily yet wide-eyed at him. It was a look he'd seen often. His lips curled into a smirk.

"Any last words, lombax?" He loosed his grip a fraction, his fingers longing to clench the hand for good and crush the runt's throat. The crack in the helmet travelled a little further down the mask.

"...list..."

Tachyon's eyes narrowed and he brought the near-limp lombax closer, glaring down at him. "What?"

"...N'e...vermin..."

He saw the light in the dark hollow of the helmet fail. Tachyon pulled on the controls, and the hand clenched. An audible snap followed, and the body of the lombax went completely limp. Had he been dying anyway, Tachyon did not care – he didn't wish for the chance to finish him to be stolen from him. He felt his blood rushing from victory, yet he didn't feel like laughing loudly as he would have done. He felt...content. He knew what this would bring...and how easy it was.

He dropped the body, letting it fall on its side with a soft flop. He began stalking away on his throne, but stopped, looking back over his shoulder at it one last time. It did not move.

Slowly, and quietly, he let out a final chuckle before moving along.

...

Nevo and Frumpus gripped each other's arms, not hugging, not apart, staring at the screen. They where numb, frozen, staring. The seconds ticked by, growing to minutes of nothingness, no thought or movement, as Tachyon returned to one of his cruisers and left with his minions. Minutes to moments as he left the planet, leaving nothing but the broken form upon the high building top.

...

The humming of the engine was all that could be heard. Ratchet stared at the transmitting screen, unable to think, to feel, to breath. Cronk and Zephyr's heads where bent. Trisby watched the screen in silence, a slow, steady sigh escaping her. Clank looked down at his hands, fingers curled against his palms tight.

He closed his eyes. Ratchet's ears drooped. "..."

Flicker.

...

All eyes, from both places, snapped back to the screen. Where he lay, alone on the rooftop, the body was still. The light came again, cool and pale, blue and quick – flickering for a moment, then vanishing.

Again.

Flicker.

Flicker...

The light flashed up, and stayed – clumsily hovering around the body like an unkempt electric wire. Then it steadied, the light's intensity strengthened into a buzz, growing brighter and engulfing the space the body lady.

With a grotesque snap the leg cracked back into place; the shoulder next. The ribs in the chest slid back into place; and it lurched upward with a shaky breath.

The body lifted, not by any action of its own, but as if it was being gripped by something they could not see; its arms dangling, legs straggling across the ground, dipped backwards like a ragdoll...then it tipped forward, arms swinging – and the lombax's head lifted. His legs slowly found their ground, pushing up to regain his stance.

He stood, hunched, bent, but standing. His shaky, broken-armoured arm lifted towards his bent head and tugged, the other arm next.

The armour around his chest and his neck was falling away; breaking off like eggshell and clattering to the ground in little crinkles. Ratchet's bulging eyes saw scarring, a scraggly fur, his mind unable to focus because how was this possible what the heck is going on what –

Cronk and Zephyr gripped each other in terror; Nevo and Frumpus gripped each other in terror. Clank's jaw hung open and Trisby's glare deepened, her eyes wider than they had ever been and Ratchet's heavy shudder unable to make him stop looking –

The last of the chest armour felt to the ground; a sharp, lean body, almost too thin but unbroken, was left – the metal on the arms began to fall away as the lombax struggled to pry his helmet off, the metal falling away from his eyes completely...

He pulled the helmet off and tossed it aside, his body heaving in a gasp of relief. His head bent once more, shoulders hunched, legs grounded into the floor, arms hanging by his sides like a feral beast. Each breath was laboured. Each breath. Breath.

Ratchet felt his chest pull and his stomach flip.

The lombax's face stared ahead at nothing, glaring fiercely at nothing, his look scathing and burning...a sharp face...a purple face...with pale, ghostly eyes, pale and icy like the light pulsing around him.

Percival Locksher.