Author's note:

Good news, everyone! My short hiatus is now officially over, and while nowhere near as productive as I'd hoped in terms of completed chapters drafted - thanks in part to my computer dying on me - I'm in a decent enough position to get started once again on this story's third and final Act. Thankfully I was paranoid enough to keep most of my notes and chapter drafts backed up on a USB stick, so at least they're safe, but as you can imagine, it's made things rather awkward to continue. Hell, I'm only able to post now thank to retyping up the chapter on my phone's notepad, and borrowing a friend's laptop for editing and internet access.

Long story short, while I'll try and do my best, the next few updates are liable to be delayed somewhat until I can either get my computer fixed or buy a replacement. Fingers crossed Ill be back on track sooner than not, but I think it's safe to say I won't be finishing this story by Christmas like I'd hoped. Here's hoping nothing else goes wrong in the meantime…

I'm always trying to improve as a writer, so please read and review. Constructive criticism is welcome, flamers are not. If you enjoy this story, please feel free to check out the other stories on my account should you wish.

- RevenantReaper337

Disclaimer:

Ratchet & Clank, associated characters, organisations, and intellectual properties belong to Insomniac Games. All other real world organisations and products belong to their respective governments, companies, etc. Original characters, creatures, weapons, etc. belong to me. Cover art belongs to Nekolover3 and is used with her kind permission.

'Thoughts'

Flashbacks

"Speech"

Chapter 42:

Lost in Nightmares

Thugs-4-Less Short Haul Transport #437006, Snivelak Orbit

Bogon Galaxy

G2.17.085 Galactic calendar

8:15pm GST

An oppressive silence lingered over the stolen Thugs-4-Less transport ship's troop carrying compartment as it continued to pull away from Snivelak. Tension simmering between its few occupants as they ignored the fold up seats recessed into the walls on either side in favour of the cold metal floor, with both lombaxes sat on either side of an unconscious and heavily sedated Ellen Pearce. The human having been made comfortable on a bed of emergency blankets, and kept in place with whatever random kit bags and such Clank and Samus could tear from any nearby lockers. Which in turn allowed Angela to continuing work on keeping her alive, while Ratchet simply held Ellen's hand and prayed that the girl he had come to love would live to see another day.

Because despite their best efforts, despite all the first aid kits onboard and limited collective medical knowledge, the facts were indisputable. The full body scans from Angela's Wrist Com having long confirmed what Ratchet had both feared and feverishly hoped would never come to pass.

Ellen was dying.

The multitude of shrapnel embedded in both her flesh and the ballistic weave of her modified commando suit were simple enough to remove, and the Nanotech in Ellen's bloodstream had already begun the process of expelling them from her body well before Ratchet had even known she was hit. The metal fragments simply falling out as the open wounds quickly congealed and sealed shut within a matter of minutes, even with her severely depleted Nanotech reserves. But the large, jagged piece which had managed to punch straight through her chest plate on the other hand was another matter altogether, and the source of their greatest worry once it had been discovered just why exactly Ellen had been struggling to talk, let alone breathe.

For the metal shard had hit at an angle and passed dangerously close to Ellen's heart before puncturing her right lung, causing it to gradually fill with blood. To make matters worse, Angela's scans had identified traces of a radioactive isotope coming from the shard itself; the by-product from an illegal refractive energy coating Buddy Boom had likely applied to his mech's body, according to Clank. The traces in relatively small quantities perhaps, but potentially lethal when directly introduced to exposed flesh and internal organs such as it was right now, and not something Nanotech could fight against indefinitely.

The simplest solution would have been to carefully remove the shard altogether and simply let what Nanotech they could scrounge up take care of the rest, and under any other circumstances it probably would have worked. The problem however was that it wouldn't solve the steady build up of fluid in Ellen's lungs as she struggled to breathe, and the risk of furthering her internal bleeding through nicking an artery was far too great. But if left in as is, the damn thing would end up giving the redhead a bad case of radiation poisoning and potentially kill her anyway. There was no immediate solution; frustration and desperation mounting with each passing minute while tempers began to fray, until Ratchet's finally reached breaking point.

"Damn it, you're a doctor, aren't you?! Isn't there anything you can do?!"

"I'm a geneticist, not a medical doctor, you idiot!" Angela snapped back. "I'm doing the best I can with a bad situation, and you're not exactly helping here!"

"Then we need to get her to someone who can do something," Ratchet growled out before turning his attention towards the cockpit door some ten feet away with a yell. "Hey, Cash! Set course for the nearest planet with a hospital, and make it fast!"

"Forget that and keep going!" she shouted over the rumble of engines as the ship began to increase speed. Her tone clipped and eyes hardened as her piercing glare settled on the shorter lombax once more. "Are you trying to get us all killed? Do you have any idea what would happen even if we managed to get her to a hospital in one piece?"

"Yeah, she'd get some professional help," he retorted with a glare of his own. "My girlfriend is dying here, and you want to keep her away from the only people who can save her?!"

"More like a whole bunch of assholes with guns waiting for us, you mean," Angela countered. The scowl on her face giving way to weariness as she ran a blood flecked glove down her face. "Megacorp owns everything, genius; including all of the major hospitals, clinics, and medical science facilities throughout the galaxy. Their security forces would be on us the second we got within a hundred feet of the front doors, and they're sure as hell not worried about taking you in alive."

"Unfortunately, Angela is correct," Clank added solemnly from where he was perched on one of the troop compartment's fold down seats. Samus clinging to his side with wide and worried optics darting between the ensuing argument and the redheaded girl they were battling to save. "From what Samus and myself have been able to discern, Megacorp has officially declared us to be rogue agents and placed a significant bounty upon our heads after the 'attack' upon Mr Fizzwidget at the Silver City convention centre."

But, um... m-mostly you two._ Samus added meekly while ducking her helm. I mean, yours are a lot bigger than Clank's – t-the bounties that is – a-and I don't think they really know about the rest of us yet..._

Trailing off with a flustered look upon realising just how her words could be interpreted, the little infobot further buried herself into Clank's side and hid her face from view. Which left Angela to get things back on track, since no one else seemed prepared to say anything otherwise. Her bloodstained gloves soon falling lifelessly to the floor, shortly before stubby clawed fingers ran through her scalp with a stress born sigh. "Exactly, and it's probably the only advantage we have over Megacorp right now, for however long it lasts. But in the meantime, we need to lay low and find somewhere we can get your girlfriend here the treatment she needs. Preferably away from any civilised systems, and out of the company's reach if we can help it."

"Well, anyone got any ideas?" Ratchet asked aloud while casting a look of desperation towards each of those present. "'Cos I'm all out, and Ellen doesn't have much time."

Silence greeted him, save for the constant rumbling of engines throughout the ship's troop carrying compartment, and the lombax's heart sank even further. The others lost in thought and seemingly not willing to look him in the eye, leaving Ratchet to frantically rack his brains while bringing up a new search program on his Wrist Com. Hoping against hope that he could find something, anything, which could help save the girl he loved. Even if it meant taking the Star Explorer and storming the nearest Megacorp funded hospital himself in order to steal the supplies and medical staff Ellen so desperately needed.

The half baked plan he was putting together was rudely interrupted, however, when the ship suddenly began to tilt and veer right without warning. Ratchet and Angela reacting almost in sync as they both grabbed hold of Ellen in order to help keep her stable, while simultaneously bracing themselves against the closest fold down chair. Clank similarly keeping Samus braced against his chassis with one arm, much to her combined delight and embarrassment, while the other grasped the nearest handhold for dear life. Suffice to say, the shorter lombax wasn't too happy about the sudden manoeuvre, and was quick to turn his ire on the cockpit door.

"Hey, what's the big idea?"

"Reckon I might know just the place to go, "Cash's voice crackled forth from an obvious speaker just above the sealed metal door. "A bit of a detour maybe, but definitely off the beaten path, and probably the last place Megacorp would find us right now. Besides, the bloke who owns it owes me money, and it's about time I called in his debt."

"One of your mercenary contacts, Harding?" Angela questioned with a hint of suspicion colouring her voice. "How do we know your 'friend' won't sell us down the river to Megacorp the second he gets a chance? Hell, what about medical equipment? Little Miss redhead here needs major surgery, and all we've got here is basic first aid supplies."

"Worry about that when we get there," the cazar merc responded with a dismissive wave of his hand, even if no one else could actually see the gesture from outside the cockpit. "I'll call ahead and let him know we're coming. The bloke's a bit paranoid and doesn't go out much, so he keeps pretty much everything he'd ever need at home. Including a medical suite and enough firepower to blow this tin can into a million pieces. Just give me a list of the stuff you might need to help Ellen and I'll pass it on. Hopefully he'll have it all ready and waiting for us by the time we arrive."

{()}

Bolting upright with a startled gasp and rapid, ragged breaths, Ellen's hands frantically scrabbled at the shard of metal which had punched through her chest plate. Desperately trying to find purchase and pull it out… only for confusion to reign once she found nothing but smooth and unbroken fabric beneath her touch. Which shouldn't have been possible at all through the single most armoured portion of her modified commando suit, unless somebody had either removed the plating entirely, or...

Looking down at where the wound should be, Ellen quickly realised that her suit was, in fact, missing altogether. The redhead instead finding herself clad in a familiar black graphic tee and tartan kilt identical to that which she had previously worn throughout her first extragalactic adventure with Ratchet and Clank, albeit in a lot better condition than she had seen it last, given the distinct lack of torn fabric and blood stains. The very thought of which caused her to mentally shove the issue aside in favour of checking herself over for any further injuries, only to breathe a sigh of relief upon finding none. Which only added to the growing list of questions in her mind as Ellen's eyes shifted from her unexpected change in attire to the to the oddly monochrome grass upon which she was currently sat.

The individual blades swayed slightly with an imperceptible breeze, contrasting with the lightly tanned, but still milky skin of her fingers as they brushed over a few tufts in curiosity. They certainly felt real enough, and no different from what she would expect from similar samples on Earth, only... wrong somehow, for want of a better term. A theme that seemed worryingly common to the surrounding environment once Ellen's gaze finally drifted up from her experimentations and took in the view. Almost as if somebody had drained all colour from the world with the exception of herself, and leaving the bewildered redhead staring in disbelief upon recognising the location.

"What the hell is this?" she whispered with wide eyes and shaking hands. Easily recognising the grassy field in which had woke as that from her old primary school, bordered as it was by a chain link fence on three sides and a multitude of squat, drab buildings just beyond the concrete playground.

But the proportions were all wrong, shifting somehow in an almost imperceptible manner that became more readily apparent whenever she blinked or looked elsewhere. The distinctly greyscale palette extending to what little she could see beyond the school grounds, and even to the blank, cloudless sky above. An eerie silence lingered over the desolate and clearly deserted landscape, prickling the hairs on the back of Ellen's neck and causing her to shudder involuntarily while searching for something, anything, to clue her into whatever the hell was going on.

Which is perhaps why she reacted so strongly to the faint whisper of a voice on the wind; instincts honed from countless firefights causing her to whip around and duck low, while reaching for a Quick Select that was no longer there. Eyes darting every which way in search of movement, before finally settling upon a single oak tree sat upon a slightly raised mound in the playing field. One that she knew hadn't been there when she last looked, and neither was the familiar shape of her Reaver Carbine propped up against its trunk.

Cautiously making her way towards it with a growing sense of unease, Ellen kept a constant eye on her surroundings all the while. The faint hint of voices growing stronger the closer she got, before gradually resolving themselves into childish laughter and the incoherent cacophony of school kids at play; always at the very edge of her senses and causing Ellen's heart rate to spike further still. Only for it to taper off entirely as she got within hands reach of what was definitely her carbine, and be swiftly replaced with a dark, chuckling tone that echoed through the otherwise still air.

"Well, well... How unexpected. As is the choice of locale for that matter."

Ellen wasted no time in snatching up her weapon and pointing it towards the perceived source. Finding nothing but air and a steadily increasing sense of paranoia as she continually snapped towards the slightest hint of movement in her peripheral vision. "Who's there? Come out where I can see you!"

"You mean you don't recognise me?" the voice questioned with mock disappointment, and more than a hint of dripping malice. "The one that made you who you are; the one whose life work you and that insufferable lombax ruined so callously? Truly, my dear, you wound me."

There were footsteps now; loud and echoing in the near silence of this strange and disturbing shadow of her own memories. The man's tone achingly familiar in spite of the dry and slightly rasping lilt, though Ellen's racing thoughts couldn't place just where she had heard it before. "It's what we do; especially when it comes to assholes bent on ruining everyone's day. What makes you any different?"

"Different, you say?" he asked with a dark chuckle of amusement, the footfalls having ceased entirely. "Funny you should say that..."

Out of the corner of her eye, Ellen spotted a shrouded figure slowly rounding the tree trunk. The carbine in her arms automatically snapping up and sighting on the man, even as she backed away in order to gain some much needed distance should things go South. Which was just as well really given the sudden trembling in her arms as the mystery man stepped out into the open; her breath hitched and heart pounding as she stared at a viciously grinning face that should no longer exist. One that was burnt almost beyond recognition and leaving charred bone protruding from several places, while his cold, lifeless eyes fixed her with a stare that gripped Ellen with a surge of primordial terror.

"Because from my perspective, there is none between us," the walking corpse that was Supreme Ultimate Executive Chairman Drek stated with a sense of finality. Taking a moment to brush off his equally ruined business suit with a practically skeletal hand. "Save of course for your foolish trappings of morality."

"Drek...?" Ellen whispered hoarsely. Her carbine's barrel twitching uncontrollably and finger firmly locked but a hair's breadth from pulling the trigger. "No... We killed you..."

"Indeed you did, along with the hopes and dreams of countless blarg everywhere," he countered smoothly while casually adjusting his tie. Drek's bloody smile all the more sinister through torn, charred lips, and teeth that somehow seemed a little sharper. "And yet here I stand before you–"

A sudden rattle of automatic fire soon shattered the otherwise deafening silence as Ellen finally lost her nerve and gave in to instinct. The Reaver's steadily increasing rate of fire filling the air with superheated rounds that quickly tore Drek's unprotected body into so much bloody pulp, with a follow up plasma grenade from the underslung launcher finishing the job and plastering the surrounding grass with a ridiculous amount of dripping, crimson gore. Only for the vegetation it had sullied to slowly begin converting into a black, shadowy substance that flickered like a crackling flame, which would have worried Ellen more so were she not staring so intently at what was left of Drek; horror in her eyes and heart gripped with an icy fear.

"What... the...?"

Slowly but surely, the scattered limbs and numerous chunks of charbroiled flesh began to condense into a pile. One that began to mushroom up from the ground with a wet slurping sound of meat being moulded together like Play-Doh, causing Ellen to stumble away while retching in disgust as it grew in volume, until finally ceasing upon taking on Drek's disfigured shape once more. The undead Blargian leader taking a moment to flick a piece of dirt off of his still tattered suit, before shooting the redhead a wide, confident grin.

"That was unpleasant, and thoroughly pointless. After all, one can not kill that which is already dead," he casually informed her, as if simply discussing the weather as opposed to being blown apart. Only for a dark shadow to cast over his face along with a sense of menace permeating the air like a thick fog; further filling Ellen with dread as he began to advance at a deliberate, measured pace. "Of course the same can not be said for you my dear, incompetent human, and I just so happen to know some people who are eager to test those limits."

An incoherent scream born of terror wrested itself from Ellen's lips as she emptied the remaining magazine into the ghoulish spectre's torso; one that only grew in pitch as unseen hands grabbed at her legs and pulled. Eyes widening and panic seizing her throat as the redhead finally noticed the black mass which had gradually been replacing the surrounding grass, and the growing forest of clawing limbs which even now were beginning to drag her down.

"NO! NO! GET OFF ME! GET OFF!"

"Do you remember them? Their faces?" Drek asked with a sinister smirk as he came to a halt barely three yards away. Watching the human flailing in full blown panic against the increasing mass of ethereal arms enveloping her; razor tipped digits clawing at her skin even as the bodies to which they were attached began to rise from the darkness below. "These are all the people you've killed. The mothers, brothers, fathers, and sisters, whose lives you so casually cut short before their time. Destroying their families, orphaning their children, and for what? So that you could play at being a 'hero'?"

Sure enough, some hind part of Ellen's mind which wasn't currently gibbering in terror vaguely recognised some of the surrounding figures once they took shape. Here was a construction robot from Megapolis, whose head had been blown apart and was only holding on by the barest thread of wire. There was one of the many mercenaries working for Thugs-4-Less, his right side and limbs practically gone from being shredded by Bouncer submunitions. While one of those closest and glaring directly down on her was the very blarg heavy who she had run through with her Versa blade in a fit of desperation, back on a windy Kerwan rooftop seemingly a lifetime ago, before being pinned beneath the man's weight and forced to watch the life drain from his eyes.

Eyes which, like the others all around her, were now glowing orbs of crimson fire regardless of species, and filled with little more than pure, unrestrained rage. Contrasting sharply with the washed out, sepia tinted colours which seemed to be a constant with all of these... undead creatures, spirits, whatever the hell they were. The carbine long since wrenched from her fingers and the tidal mass of bodies seeking to crush her under weight of numbers, while still somehow leaving a thin gap through which Drek could observe her torment with a cold, cruel smile.

"Time for you to suffer, like we did."

Ellen screamed.

{()}

"Woah!" Ratchet yelped out as Ellen's previously still form suddenly began to convulse where she lay. Narrowly avoiding a flailing arm with a brief jerk of his head before attempting to hold her down with both hands so as not to further aggravate the redhead's injuries. "What's wrong with her now? I thought she was out cold!"

"Her heart rate's spiking, and I'm seeing a lot of brain activity associated with REM..." Angela thought out loud while rapidly tapping away at her Wrist Com. Clank and Samus adding their own weight to Ratchet's efforts as she abandoned the displayed health monitoring suite in favour of rummaging through their greatly diminished medical supplies. "Combine that with the isotope induced fever-like symptoms, and my best guess is that she's having one hell of a nightmare right now."

"Is there nothing more we can do?" Clank asked with pleading optics turned her way. The momentarily lapse in concentration almost resulting in him being slammed into the nearby cargo bay's wall, were it not for his inherent machine reflexes. "An anaesthetic or muscle relaxant, perhaps?"

Angela briefly shook her head, even as she held up an auto-injector she had managed to find among what was left of the scavenged first aid kits. A viscous blue liquid clearly visible through the transparent body, which she palmed before scooting closer to Ellen's struggling and sweat drenched form. "I don't know anywhere near enough about her biology to risk anything but the basic stuff, and all I've got left is a mild sedative, same as she's already had. Here, keep her steady so I can get this in an artery. I just hope it'll be enough to tide her over until we get to wherever Cash is taking us."

"We're there right now," their pilot cut in mere moments before a resounding thump shook the ship. His voice amplified via a speaker over the cockpit door and clearly audible over the dull and distant thrum of engines spooling down. "Pop the hatch and get her out on the deck. I'll be with ya soon as I've finished shutting this thing down."

Not needing to be told twice, Ratchet scrambled to his feet and bolted towards the clearly marked control panel at the cargo bay's rear. His fist slamming down on the big red emergency release button, before double timing it back to help the others as they awkwardly tried to lift Ellen on to a makeshift stretcher formed from a tarpaulin cover. Angela giving him a nod as her grip tightened on one edge "On three. One... Two..."

With a grunt of effort and haphazard manoeuvring that caused Ellen's chest wound to weep blood anew, the team began their unsteady journey towards the now fully deployed cargo ramp and down into the spacious metal-lined hanger beyond. Cash quickly catching up after leaving the cockpit's cramped confines and helping to share the burden as they set their precious cargo down on a clear patch some fifteen feet or so away from their stolen vessel. Which left Ratchet with two very important questions as he took in the polished and virtually bare, yet oddly familiar interior with eyes darting everywhere and an anxious frown set firmly upon his face.

"Hey, Cash? Where the heck are we, and where's your friend?"

"Over here, on the screen," a slippery and welcomingly familiar voice greeted from the speakers of a floating holo-vid screen as it rounded their ship from the far side. A hint of annoyance, and perhaps long time weariness colouring the man's tone. "You know, when Harding called in a favour, I didn't expect him to bring a whole bunch of wanted fugitives right to my front door. Do you even have any idea how many bounty hunters Megacorp's got tracking you down right now?"

"Slim Cognito?" Clank questioned, optics wide in surprise as he stared at the shifty pair of eyes looking back at them from the otherwise black screen now hovering in front of them. "You are the contact whom Mr Harding mentioned?"

B-bounty hunters?_ Samus squeaked out before hiding her quivering frame behind the other robot's chassis.

"Never mind all that," Ratchet interrupted, "Ellen's in really bad shape and we seriously need some help. Now, do you have what we need to save her or not?"

"Heh... you've got stones kid, I'll give ya that," Slim chuckled mirthfully before his floating screen dipped slightly to one side. A previously invisible door sliding open on the smooth metal wall just behind him. "But wanted or not, there's no way I'd turn down my two best customers, and especially if they've got deep pockets. Just make sure things stay that way and we'll all get along."

A floating gurney soon sped into the hanger via the revealed doorway under its own power, and the three organics present wasted no time in gently transferring Ellen onto its surprisingly soft surface before rapidly following after the departing vid screen. Clank and Samus riding on top next to her head and ensuring that the sedative Angela had delivered but minutes previously was actually having an effect, while the others kept pace with the gurney and burst through into the elevator beyond shortly thereafter.

A short ride later saw them spilling out into a cut down but spacious operating theatre lined with a bewildering variety of medical equipment for virtually any occasion, including what looked like some sort of cryogenic sleeping pods off to one side. But right now they were more concerned with getting Ellen onto the centrally located operating table and ensuring she survived long enough to reverse the damage that had been done to her body before it was too late.

A task made more difficult by the fact that her chest wound appeared to have split open again, and the shard lodged within having sunk deeper still into her flesh. Slim's screen having taken up position against the nearest wall as the gurney docked with the operating table and began the automated process of quickly but carefully depositing Ellen's nigh comatose form onto its surface. Which left the others able to do little more than follow Angela's yelled instructions as she darted around the various medical cabinets and grabbed whatever she needed; a gasp of alarm escaping her lips as the recently connected heart monitor began to beep with a machinegun rhythm.

"Holy... Her heart rate's off the charts!"

"What do we do?!" Ratchet yelped in panic. His usually cool demeanour long since gone and pounding heart almost a match for Ellen's as he fumbled for something, anything to save her.

"Keep pressure on that wound, but don't touch the shrapnel!" the other lombax yelled back between trying to get an IV line into the disturbingly pale girl's arm, only to find the armoured jumpsuit's material virtually impenetrable to both needle and her claws. "Cash, give me a hand here!"

"On it!" he replied while drawing his machete without hesitation.

While lacking the precision of a scalpel, the Bushwhacker proved more than able to slice through Ellen's commando suit, and score a thin line in the skin beneath in spite of his efforts to be careful. Something Angela ignored in favour of setting up the IV line and ensuring a steady flow from the bag of universal anti-toxin solution she had hastily set up, before turning her attention back to the more obvious issue at hand. Namely how in the hell she was supposed to remove that jagged shard of metal from Ellen's chest without causing any further damage to her punctured lung, or otherwise embedding it even more so into her weeping wound.

By now Ellen's breathing had steadily become more rapid and shallow; a well of panic rising up in all those present as they scrambled to save her life. Taking charge with barked orders that were obeyed without question, Angela had Cash and Ratchet cut away or otherwise remove the armour portions surrounding the point of entry so as to give her better access. Samus proving exceptionally useful in rapidly retrieving small tools and equipment from nearby storage cabinets as needed once she had gotten an on the fly inventory from Slim. Most of which the older lombax wouldn't have even known to look for, had it not been for Clank's seemingly encyclopaedic knowledge of virtually any and every subject going, including medical implements.

From there it was a case of getting a tube past the rib cage and into the girl's chest cavity; a specialised machine sucking out the excess air that had built up and relieving the pressure on her collapsed lung. After several nail biting minutes spent in near silence, Ellen's breathing gradually started to even out and a collective sigh of relief filled the room. Angela releasing a breath she hadn't even realised she'd been holding, before poring over the redhead's vitals that were still cued up on her Wrist Com and feeling a weight lifted off of her shoulders upon skimming through the displayed results.

"Okay... Heart rate's slowly decreasing back down to normal levels, anti-toxin's flushing her system..." she voiced aloud for the others benefit, and to buy some time for her to come up with a workable solution. "That should hold her for a while, and hopefully start reversing whatever damage has already been done to her nervous system. But we can't do anything else for her lung until we get that piece of shrapnel out, and I don't know how without making things worse. She needs an actual medical doctor, and probably some serious surgery too, which is way beyond anything I can do for her right now."

"Well I'm guessing you can't just pull it out and let the Nanotech go to work, otherwise you would've already done it by now," Cash mused with a frown and pointed look at the wound in question. "Reckon you probably already thought of a bunch more ideas as well that were too risky to follow through too." At her slight nod, he continued. "So where does that leave us now? How are we supposed to find a doc willing and able to treat her when half the galaxy's out there looking to claim a price on our heads?"

The operating room descended into silence once more, broken only by the humming of machinery and Ellen's breathing as it finally levelled out. Slim staying quiet and observing from his floating monitor while the rest of those present were deep in thought; trying to think of someone, anyone, who could help in their hour of need. Only for Ratchet's eyes to suddenly light up in realisation.

"You know what," he began slowly, drawing the others attention. "It's kind of a long shot, but I think I do know a guy who could help us."

"You... do?" Clank questioned with slightly narrowed optics and a hint of scepticism. "Ratchet, I do not recall us ever having encountered any medical personnel in our travels thus far, or previously for that matter. Who did you have in mind?"

"No time, explain later. Gotta find him first," Ratchet managed to blurt out at speed before turning his attention towards Cash. "I'm gonna need my ship back; probably be gone for a while too. Think you guys can hold down the fort 'til I get back?"

"Reckon so," the merc offered in return with a wry smirk before tapping away at his Wrist Com; nodding in satisfaction once it chimed in confirmation before giving the waiting lombax his full attention. "Secondary cargo bay's open, and your ship's first one off the ramp."

"Thanks Cash!" the lombax called out over his shoulder while darting past and through the door beyond. Casting one last look at Ellen's limp form as he did so, before meeting the Aussie-accented cazar's eyes. "Keep her safe, I'll be back soon!"

"Will do!"

Retracing their steps back towards the hanger where their transport had landed and ignoring Angela's fading protests along the way, it didn't take long for Ratchet to arrive. The larger vessel's forward facing cargo ramp deployed as promised, at the bottom of which now sat his battle-scarred but fully operational Star Explorer. The team having taken the opportunity to recover both Cash's ship and his own before leaving Snivelak and stowing them in the much larger transport vessel's secondary cargo bay for safekeeping.

Right now though he was more concerned with making sure the Megacorp built fighter was still operational, and how to go about finding the guy he hoped could help save Ellen. An abbreviated flight check was swiftly followed by Ratchet swinging the ship around in a U-turn, before taxiing towards the thickly armoured and thoroughly sealed hanger doors. Both sets of which slowly began to part upon his approach, shortly followed by a familiar, slippery voice issuing forth from the ship's central console. "Not gonna get very far without me opening up the doors, kid. I just hope you know what you're doin'"

"You and me both," Ratchet murmured, before venting a sigh and glancing across to see the by now familiar pair of floating eyes peering from an otherwise pitch black screen. "Thanks again Slim, for everything. I'll be back before you know it."

The shady arms dealer merely chuckled, before killing the transmission altogether after a few last parting words. "Sure thing. Just try not to get yourself killed, or lead Megacorp back here. After all, I still need your business."

Shaking his head with a snort of mirth, Ratchet punched the throttle to maximum thrust and soon found himself clearing the hanger bay before blasting off into the depths of space once more, albeit alone this time. Quickly reorienting himself upon reaching a safe distance from the discretely hidden space station, he scrolled through the list of previously visited planets logged upon the ship's navigation computer before settling on one in particular. The coordinates soon locked in and engines running hot as he made best speed towards his intended destination; a certain out of the way desert world upon which he sought to find the one man who was perhaps Ellen's best chance of pulling through in one piece.

It was just a question of tracking him down in time and hoping he would agree to help, or that he was still on world for that matter and hadn't gone elsewhere.

'That crazy old man better still be there. Ellen might not have much time, and we need him now more than ever...'

{()}

Trapped in the depths of her own despair, a seemingly never-ending tide of jagged, twisting limbs continued to swamp Ellen's panic stricken form. Their grip unrelenting, unbreakable in spite of her best terror fuelled thrashing attempts to free herself, and dragging the redhead further down into an unseen abyss as she screamed herself hoarse. All the while, an endless tirade of whispered accusations and muted cries of the fallen assaulted her ears with a sheer wall of noise. One voice running into the next until they were indistinguishable from one another, and serving as little more than a buzzing backdrop for Drek's constant dark and hollow laughter.

At some point, the overwhelming horde surrounding her had begun to morph into a bewildering array of shapes and species. Each vaguely recognisable for the split second she was able to glimpse them, until they began to take on a twisted but unmistakably human visage. Each vaguely female, almost faceless, and dressed in a torn, bloodied version of her old primary school uniform; screeching and crying out in a cacophony of voices all the while as they continued their assault on both body and mind.

Although none in particular stood out so much as the one which had suddenly replaced Drek when next the horde parted enough to see him. The face belonging to a girl she had last seen nearly a decade previously, with faux blonde tresses cascading over her shoulders and framing an almost delicate looking face that still wore the Blargian leader's sadistic grin. One she had hoped never to see again after all the grief Ellen had suffered at her hands, and whose baleful, pale green eyes she met with pure hatred.

Kirsty goddamned Stewart.

The snot nosed, spoilt little bitch who took an instant disliking to the new girl in their school year group from day one, and for reasons she still didn't really understand. Spending the best part of six months trying to tear down a then eleven year old Ellen through a combination of both physical and mental bullying, and often leaving her reduced to tears when some of the verbal barbs truly struck home. It didn't exactly help that Kirsty somehow seemed to know all of Ellen's insecurities at the time either, such as her lack of a chest and jibes at her parentage. Silly, and almost insignificant things when looked back at through the lens of a much more mature young adult, but cutting and possibly crushing even to a pre-teen girl starting to go through the whirlwind of emotions that is puberty.

"Aw, did you forget about poor little me? " the... whatever the hell it was wearing Kirsty's face cooed in amusement. Some kind of new alien, and one with the ability to mimic people from her memories somehow, perhaps? It made about as much sense as anything else in this messed up place, wherever 'here' actually was. "Guess it's time I put you in your place again, huh Pearce?"

"You're... not... her!" Ellen managed to grind out between pained gasps; channelling anger to override the terror surging through her veins as the overwhelming forest of limbs slowly crushed her body further still beneath their unyielding grasp. "just... a... fake!"

"Wow, you really are a stupid bumpkin, aren't you Pearce?" 'Kirsty' giggled gleefully while giving one of her trademark cutesy smiles. The same kind she used to give to their teachers when playing the innocent card and twist them to her version of the 'truth' when making trouble for the redhead. "But then again, why should I expect any different from a dumb, ugly bitch like you that can't even do anything without someone else holding your hand. Even your precious brother thought you were a useless waste of space, and now he's dead! Face it Pearce; you're weak, worthless prey and there's nothing you can do about it!"

Ellen's reply was little more than an animalistic howl of rage and overwhelming frustration as she thrashed within the bonds of warping, mismatched fleshy limbs with all her might. Tempered as it was with the gnawing fear deep down that the apparition was somehow right, and further reinforced by her inability to break free as a rising chorus of childish voices filled the air once more with a non-stop tirade of targeted insults and jibes that cut to her very core. Leaving Ellen unable to do anything but struggle weakly with no hope for escape, vision dimming as the very life was squeezed out of her in a manner intended to inflict long, drawn out suffering for hours on end.

"Well I think that just about wraps things up around here," the monstrous thing continued with a dark chuckle and Logan's distinct voice now for some reason. Presumably after changing form once again, although Ellen couldn't exactly tell thanks to being completely smothered with nightmarish limbs. "Time for you to say goodb–"

A distinctive crack echoed across the monochrome playground, swiftly followed by a squelch of something fleshy being hit hard; cutting off the mimic's words and causing the tangle of arms pinning Ellen down to slacken in surprise just enough for her to gain some much needed breathing space. Several more cracks sounded out in rapid succession, along with the hissing screeches of the creatures that had swamped Ellen and a dangerous sweeping, buzzing noise that sounded achingly familiar to her dulled senses. Although it was the first that truly caught her attention, and a gasp of confused surprise once she recognised it as the barking report of a very human weapon; one she hadn't heard in person but knew all too well from TV news footage of the ongoing Middle Eastern conflict.

The L85A2: a bullpup assault rifle from the SA80 series of small arms, and standard issue for numerous branches of the British armed forces. But how did one get here of all places, and more importantly, who the hell was firing it?

The answer, as it turned out, would come a lot sooner than Ellen could have predicted. One of the twisted creatures pinning her down had apparently decided that finishing off their captive quickly was better than potentially losing her to a rescue attempt, and promptly lunged towards her face with a bared maw full of razor sharp teeth. Its blended reptilian and cybernetic head coming within inches of tearing out the helpless redhead's throat, before a pair of 5.56mm NATO rounds caused its skull to shatter like so much glass.

More followed in swift succession shortly thereafter; each dropped with rapid precision shots and double taps, while others still fell silent from a flurry of humming strokes that sounded a lot like a lightsaber being swung. The horde gradually whittled down to the point that they could no longer effectively keep Ellen contained and fight off their attackers at the same time, which the redhead almost immediately took advantage of. A pulled kick to the chest sending one creature stumbling back into its fellows and leaving them easy prey for the sharpshooter to drop with machine like precision, while another received an elbow thrust repeatedly into its stomach. Ellen gaining just enough leverage to twist out of the creature's grip and drop to the floor before scrambling upright.

But by then it was virtually all over bar the clean up. One final gunshot dropping Ellen's already stunned opponent before she could so much as throw a single punch, and leaving her to watch in bewilderment as it too collapsed into shattered fragments that scattered across the field. The crystal-like remains soon joining those of its fellows in a wide blossom of violence surrounding Ellen's position, shortly before a strong gust of wind blew it all away.

Although that was nothing compared to the sheer sense of disbelief etched upon her face, once Ellen finally turned her attention towards the shooter as he approached at a casual pace. Her eyes wide and heart pounding a mile a minute as she took in the impossible sight before her; dressed as he was in the desert pattern uniform of a Royal Marines Commando, with an L85A2 cradled across his plate carrier and a boyish grin firmly plastered across an achingly familiar face. One sporting a short crop of red hair and pale green eyes that twinkled in amusement as he finally came to a halt scant yards away, before speaking with a mild Scottish brogue that Ellen had never thought she would hear ever again. "Hey there, Red. Long time no see."

"S… Simon…?" she breathed out, scarcely believing her eyes. "Is that... Is that really you?"

There was honestly no mistaking that tone of voice, or his pet nickname for her coming from lips parted into an achingly familiar, almost permanently mischievous grin, despite the impossibility of such a thing.

Because Simon Bryn Pearce, Royal Marines Commando and loving brother, had died during a routine patrol in Afghanistan just under a year ago. His body repatriated and buried with full military honours, while any personal effects were returned to the Pearce family home in Scotland; including the dogtags Ellen now wore as a permanent reminder of whom she had lost. Yet here he was right in front of her; none the worse for wear, and looking exactly like he did in the last photo she had of Simon from when he was on tour out in the Middle East. Right down to the immaculate battle dress uniform, equipment, and beret tucked under the epaulet on his shoulder.

"Why, d'you know any other right handsome bastards that look like me?" he replied with a self depreciating grin and that mild Scottish brogue she knew oh so well. "'Cos if you do, then I might just have to pay 'em a wee visit and make sure they're not messing about with my baby sister."

"No, you're dead..." she whispered, eyes wide in shock and limbs shaking as she staggered backwards out of reach. After all, given all those twisted simulacrums of people she had known and fought against, who was to say they weren't changing tactics and imitating those closest to her heart instead. "I saw you, the casket- You're... You're just another fake like those others, aren't you?!"

"Ellen, wait, it's-"

"No! Get away from me!"

Had Ellen been thinking rationally and not so overcome with paranoid terror, she might have noticed the crestfallen expression on her brother's face as he reached out a placating hand, or the jutting crystalline pile of remains that she tripped over while frantically trying to gain some distance. The redhead's already hammering heart rate spiking and the hunted look in her eyes changing to one of panic as the world promptly turned horizontal, with the ground quickly rushing up to meet her. Or at least that is until a pair of nomex-gloved arms lashed out and wrapped around her tightly; redirecting her fall so that they landed on their sides instead, with bushels of grass cushioning the force of impact. Not that she was in a position to appreciate his gesture, or right frame of mind.

"Hey, hey, easy now! I've got you."

"I said lemme GO!"

"Ow! Damn it!"

In a fit of thrashing desperation, Ellen managed to slip an arm free long enough to slug the presumed fake masquerading as her brother across the jaw. The impact doing practically no damage if any at all, but proving enough of a shock for him to let go with a surprised grunt; allowing the redhead to fall on her rear with a brief grunt of pain, before springing back up in a loose fighting stance and ready to bolt at a moments notice. But rather than strike back or otherwise make a move towards her as expected, however, Simon merely rubbed his jaw. An amused snort escaping his lips, and stunned expression softening to a fond smile. "Heh... Almost forgot y'had such a mean right hook." He snorted in amusement. "Y'still hit like a wee Jessie though."

"You shut up and stay the hell back, you hear me?" Ellen snapped out, smouldering with anger at the very thought of some monstrous alien being taking on her dearly departed brother's form. "I don't know what the hell you are, but you're not fooling me! This is just some kind of... of... hallucination or something!"

"Well if I am, then it's a bloody convincing one, I'll tell you that!" Simon ground out as he pushed himself up into a crouch and dusted off his rifle. "Besides, if I was one of those ugly bastards, wouldn't I have done something by now? Like taking a shot at you, instead of saving your arse?"

She had to admit, he had a point there. So far these things had been actively trying to torment and kill her in short measure, whereas 'Simon' here clearly hadn't; even though one taking on his likeness should have no problem using every little thing he knew against her if the previous pattern of behaviour held true. Which meant that it was either trying to play the long game and get under her skin, before ultimately betraying that trust at the most opportune moment, or... Or that it really was her brother somehow, despite the sheer impossibility of such a thing. Having come to her aid from beyond the grave, as whole and alive as the last clear memory she'd ever had of him.

It was perhaps a sign of how strange her life had become over the last year or so, that the latter option honestly wasn't all that far fetched anymore.

"I... Prove it, then!"

"Ben Nevis, Southern face, 'bout five years or so back," he rattled off smoothly, before giving her a wry grin. "Y'kept bitching about it being too steep, then nearly ended up half way back down on y'arse when y'tripped on a wee pebble."

"H-hey, that thing was a bloody boulder!" Ellen stuttered, her face flushed with mild embarrassment and wistfulness at the memory he had invoked. "Uh, I mean, how do you kn-"

"Oh, so y'were blind then too?" he asked with a steadily rising lilt and amused twinkle in his eye. "Only I remember warning you twice, and y'still never saw it until y'went arse over tit."

"S-shut up!" she ground out, although the accompanying scowl was hard pressed to compete with the beginnings of a slight, flickering smile gracing her lips.

"Make me!" he returned with a shit eating grin, barking laughter as she charged him with a yell and sent them both crashing down to earth. A wretched sob tearing its way from Ellen's throat as she clung to him for dear life, her breathing erratic and stuttering, while tears began to flow from icy blue eyes as she nuzzled into his plate carrier. Simon shifting his weapon to one side and out of the way before embracing her fully, making small circles on Ellen's back and murmuring comforting words into her ear as she let all her pent up grief from the last year free.

It hadn't been long after her thirteenth birthday, with Simon choosing to spend a couple of days home while on leave before finally shipping out for his first tour, when she had finally managed to wheedle him into taking her on the mountaineering trip she had been set on for oh so long. A hike up the highest mountain peak in both Scotland and the rest of the UK combined; far away from the more simple, crowded tourist trails, where she could really challenge herself. Unfortunately for her, however, it turned out to be... a whole lot harder than Ellen ever could have imagined.

The southern face proved to be far steeper and much more gruelling than anticipated, given her then very limited experience at the time and the fact it was covered in a blanket of snow most of the year round. Leaving her gasping for breath not even halfway up their ascent, her muscles burning and concentration on their immediate surroundings waning, right up to the point that her foot caught on an obvious protruding rock that was out in plain sight. Which Ellen then tripped over with a panicked squeak that she would forever deny until the end of time; tumbling head over heels for a good dozen yards and winding up in a tangled heap of limbs, looking like she'd been dragged through a gorse bush backwards, while Simon did little more than laugh his ass off at her misfortune.

The smug bastard.

More importantly though, as far as Ellen knew, there had been no other witnesses to her little screw up, and Simon had never told anyone else before he... died. Sufficient bribery in chocolate having been enough to buy his silence; preventing any embarrassing stories from reaching their friends and family, and unlike with some siblings, she knew he wouldn't go back on his word. Which meant that either those freaky shape-shifting creatures were able to read much more than just her deepest, darkest thoughts and memories, or that this was really what it looked like. That in spite of there being no logical reason to believe that this was anything but another psychological ploy by those things, Ellen somehow knew, deep down in her heart, that it really was him, somehow.

"Hey, it's alright, Red. It's alright," he soothed gently, an errant finger wiping tears from her eyes as she finally met his gaze once more.

"I missed you," she whispered hoarsely, voice raw and breath shuddering. Her arms still wrapped around him tightly and bleary gaze drinking in every feature of his face as Simon pulled them both up into seated position. "Every damn day I'd think about what I'd do, what I'd say, if I could see you again just one more time. But now...?"

"Aye, I know," he murmured softly, continuing his ministrations on her back as she tried to find her next words. "It's one thing to think about the impossible, but another altogether to actually experience it. Wish it had been somewhere nicer though."

"Yeah..." Ellen sighed wistfully as she finally began to calm down, her tearstained face a growing picture of contentment. Or at least that is until a sudden, gnawing thought crossed her mind. "Hey, Simon?"

"Yeah?"

"Where... exactly are we?" she asked hesitantly, worry evident in her eyes as she glanced at the increasingly twisted, monochrome representation of her old school grounds around them. "Hell, how are you even here in the first place? Are we..." She swallowed nervously, voice lowered as she looked up at him with naked fear. "Am I... dreaming all of this? Is anything here even real?!"

"This place is many things, my child. But a dream is not one of them."

Ellen jolted at the sudden and completely unexpected voice ringing out from somewhere off to her left; one with a very distinctive accent that sounded achingly familiar somehow. Ingrained muscle memory from countless battles combined with a hefty dose of paranoia quickly saw the redhead back on her feet, her head snapping towards the source as the newcomer continued to approach at a lazy pace. "It is a prison of the mind; your mind, and will be so until you realise the truth."

"Who are you?" Ellen asked warily, her eyes fixed squarely on the stranger and hands clenching unconsciously in anticipation of a fight. "And what do you mean, 'truth'?"

"He's the reason why those bloody monsters didn't tear you apart, and the reason I even managed to find you in the first place," Simon offered by means of explanation, a thumb hiked over his shoulder in the stranger's direction. "Trust me, if it weren't for him, neither of us would even be here right now."

Tall, thin, and obviously male in spite of the loose brown robes draping over his form, there was little else distinguishable about the mystery man at first glance. A hint of sandals with each step perhaps as the floor length cloth of his robes swished to and fro, along with glimpses of bluish-green skinned hands clasped together in the folds of overly baggy sleeves that were obviously far too big, but damn little else to go on. Or at least that is until he had drawn alongside Simon and thrown his hood back, revealing perhaps the last face Ellen had expected to see in this strange, nightmarish landscape. Her eyes widening in surprise as a pair of gleaming orange orbs stared back at her in amusement from a faceful of unkempt white hair.

The very same features, in fact, as those belonging to the strange and mysterious old man whom she had previously met amongst the desert wastes of Tabora, and who had so easily restored the mangled remains of Ratchet's Star Explorer to pristine condition. All with little more than just his freaking mind and some low chanting.

"Did I not tell you before, that possession is merely an illusion?" the new age mystic continued with a lazy drawl, an arm sweeping out to encompass their surroundings. "Look for yourself, child. Nothing here is what it seems."

"But- I don't- What the hell are you talking about?!" she spluttered in disbelief, her face one of open shock and arms thrown up in exasperation. "How are you even here?!"

The old man's eyes lit up with maniacal energy, a somewhat disturbing grin splitting his face and making Ellen take an unconscious step back as he focused upon her in a laser-like fashion. "Patience, child. Allow me to... illuminate you."

Because things always get worse before they get better, and friendly faces often pop up in strangest of places. But is anything Ellen's going through even real, or just the product of her fevered imagination? And just how exactly does it all tie together? Find out next time, whereby I attempt to wrap this little arc up and get back to canon. But until then, feel free to speculate away!

Review replies:

MagnetaCrystal59 - And Ellen too! Although, to be fair, this is one price he wasn't prepared to pay for victory, and is likely to haunt him for a long time to come…

starrat - Glad you liked it, bittersweet though the ending was. Hope you enjoy this one too!

Snow Wolf Alpha - Aw, thanks! Traumatic as the experience might be, for both him and the others, Ratchet has long been overdue for a good dose of reality and the consequences of screwing up. Suffice to say there's going to be a lot of guilt and second guessing himself in the immediate future, but hopefully an opportunity to learn from his mistakes as well and become a better lombax for it. As for Earthside, not if she can't knock some sense into him first!

bajy - Snivelak is the planet on which the last five chapters have been set. In storytelling and other forms of modern media, an 'arc' refers to several chapters or story snippets that are linked together in a coherent, self contained narrative. Several of which make up a story, TV series, etc. as a whole. Hence, in this case, the 'Snivelak arc'. Hope that helps.

In any case, I'm happy to hear you enjoyed this chapter, and only hope the next was well worth the wait. Although I will point out, as you've no doubt realised by now, that Angela… isn't exactly that kind of doctor, and Ellen definitely isn't out of the woods just yet.

Bookwriter94 - And a damn good guess it was; although, to be fair, I wasn't exactly all that subtle. Still, glad to hear you enjoyed the chapter overall, and can only hope that the next arc lives up to your expectations.

Firestar5277 - Thanks! I really wanted the whole Snivelak arc to be something epic, and while events kind of spiralled out of control to the point it encompassed nigh half a dozen chapters in its own right, I think the end result was well worth it. Buddy Boom definitely would have made a much scarier and lethal opponent if he'd been able to properly direct his rage, and likely would have dragged the fight out a hell of a lot longer had I chosen to go that route. But in this case, given his general personality, I think blind, berserker rage was the way to go.

Also, I will start putting together a weapons list at the earliest opportunity, so as to avoid having to keep trawling back through comments. I vaguely recall a few from a fair while back that I wanted to incorporate, but can't remember the details, so an archive would work wonders. Plus, I'm always open to new ideas.

Also, loving the terrible pun, so here's a classical number for the week:

In other news, the local police station have reported that their entire toilet block was stolen last night, right down to the last sink and cistern. A police spokesman has said that while an official investigation is being conducted as of this morning, officers still have nothing to go on.

Razor of DOOM - Urgh… That's what happens when you write and edit tired at stupid o' clock in the morning. Should be fixed now though, thanks for the spot.

TimeLordCompanion - You're welcome~! Although that depends upon your definition of 'okay'…

DarkEnigma95 - Well, if you're going to end a story arc properly, it just as well be with a one hell of a bang and all the stops pulled out. Or at least, in my eyes, anyway. Incidentally, the only reason Logan survived the bombardment is down to being protected within the upper reaches of the massive, multi-storey mech when the hammer came down, and not without injury. Ellen, on the other hand, is in a pretty bad place right now, as you've no doubt gathered, and will still be teetering on the brink for a while longer.

I'm not exactly the best person to ask, and often get things wrong, but if you do have any questions, queries, or just generally need some advice, I'll always try and help to the best of my abilities. Just send me a PM, and if I can't help you myself, then I'll direct you to someone or a resource that can. Take care for now, and good luck writing.

Sonachugirl - Yeah, the inevitable sequel (threequal?) would be slightly awkward if the main character suddenly died. Although it's not exactly unheard of in some stories I've read, with another protagonist instead taking centre stage. Not that it's going to happen here, of course. Honest. Admittedly, I… might have taken 'going out with a bang' perhaps a little bit too far, but I think the end result ultimately speaks for itself. Glad you liked it, and just think, I've now got to top that for the final assault on Megacorp HQ! No pressure…

I actually haven't watched Doctor Who since David Tennant left, and only sporadically then, so I have no idea what's happened in the meantime. I'm going to go out on a limb and guess that the finale was al kinds of messed up though, and would be more than happy to supply all of the brain bleach if needed. As for Resident Evil, given the increasing penchant for killing off characters left and right after allowing you to get acquainted with them, not getting too attached seems like a fairly good idea.

Lightseeker 001 - Along with an obscene amount of real estate, military equipment, and much of Thugs-4-Less' command structure. Even if it's a drop in the ocean compared to what's still out there in the galaxy at large. Personally, I'd say the unstoppable tide of bloodthirsty Protopets about to be unleashed on the galaxy were the worst out of the three, with Ellen's injuries a close second. Qwark's not exactly the sharpest tool in the box, and the chances of him doing anything unpleasant with the information on Earth's location is fairly slim. Not impossible, mind you, but unlikely given his current scheme and ultimate goal.

GamerHeart - He exists, and wants to wipe out all forms of organic life. Isn't that reason enough? If not, then I'm sure nefarious can come up with something else that'll seriously piss her off.

Lightsaviour2759 - You know, I was starting to wonder where you'd gotten to. Welcome back, and good to hear you enjoyed the story up to this point. To be perfectly honest, at first, I didn't think of what would eventually become the Buddy brothers as anything more than just throwaway characters for another mini boss battle. But as the word count grew and the battle escalated further, I suddenly realised that I just didn't want to kill them off just yet, and in the intervening chapters they've become characters of their own. It just goes to show really, that great things can bloom from the smallest of ideas, and all it needs is a single spark to make it happen.

Vendicor - Thanks! Hope the next chapter continues to live up to your expectations.

Until next time, please review and check out my other stories once they're posted and/or updated.

Thanks for reading

- RevenantReaper337