Disclaimer- this one is good for the whole story, cause I'm getting sick of writing them. I do not own Final Fantasy or any of the characters. 'Nuff said.

I am writing this chapter at 12:30 in the morning and I am on a Pepsi high, so if this chapter sucks, GET OVER IT. Actually, tell me so's I can fix it.

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A wolf's howl was heard from off in the distance. Kyle felt all of his muscles tense up at the sound. ~God, why are the frickin' werewolves out now?!? It's far too early... unless... no, must undo the "unless". This is a universe sans unless. But just to be safe...~

"Guys, we really have to get out of here now. The werewolves are hunting, and there's a safe place not too far from here."

"Aww, why are you worried about the werewolves? They haven't attacked anyone since we took Chaos down." Rob just couldn't resist voicing his opinion.

"Did you bring any silver weapons along with you? That's a pack of at least twenty wolves out there, stalking us, and I cannot kill them all by myself." The wolves howled again, closer this time. "We have to go. Now!" He stalked off into the shadows.

"Well, let's go then. I don't know 'bout you guys, but I don't want to spend the rest of my life as a half man wolf type thing. You DID know that that's what happens to you when you get bit by a werewolf, didn't you?" And with that note, Jake walked after Kyle.

Robert and Steve shared a slightly nervous glance, then reluctantly followed the other two, still convinced that it was a pack of regular wolves, and nothing more.

After traversing a few nervous streets, they stopped. "We're here," Kyle announced.

"So are they!" replied Jake.

The werewolves were indeed coming down the opposite side of the road. "Guys, get inside now! I can hold them off!" Kyle threw himself at the pack of mutated wolves, drawing his twin silver swords and letting forth a war cry.

"Dammit, that's torn the whole thing," Steve muttered, drawing the Excalibur. He then plunged into the fray.

"Well, if they're gonna be idiots and try to throw their lives away, then I better make sure they don't succeed," Rob said to Jake, drawing the sword that was thought to be a legend for over two millennia. The Masmune. All who beheld it could feel its power, which was why all were able to wield it with such power and skill.

"Ah, shit!" Jake cursed as all three of the other Light warriors jumped into battle with the werewolves. With all of them fighting, he couldn't use his magic without the risk of hurting his teammates. He cursed again, then stood back as he realized that his magic was not needed anyway.

A short while (and many bloody corpses) later, the three swordsmen stood back to survey their handiwork.

"Well, it was a bit messier than my normal kills, but it got the job done," Kyle said as he looked at the twelve wolves he had taken down alone. He then turned to the others to ask the question that had been burning in his mind. "How the hell did you hurt those werewolves? I could've sworn that they were only hurt my silver or magical weapons."

"What do you think these are?" Rob asked, gesturing to the two swords lying on the ground, dropped from battle weary hands.

Kyle stared at them, uncomprehending for a minute, then suddenly flashed a grin. "Why you miserable little bastards. I thought some government would have come along and asked you to hand them over."

"Well, in truth, they did. They just figured they'd stop after we killed half of their assassin population and a few government officials." Steve looked like he was having a good time, looking back on days long past.

Kyle grinned too, then put on a sober expression as a wolf howled in the distance. "We still shouldn't be out on the streets. There's more than one pack out hunting tonight."

He walked inside the building in front of them, followed by his three friends.

At the room at the top of the stairs, they stopped. "What makes you so sure that this place is safe?" Rob asked as he eyed the rickety wooden door, just barely hanging on to its hinges. "No offense, but that door looks like a stiff breeze would blow it over."

Kyle nodded. "I know. That's why I 'hired' a mage to put a warding spell on that door. Hired... more like knocked him out in a blind alley then forced him to cast the spell. Anyway, no one can come in unless I invite them."

"Why 'hire' a mage? Why didn't you cast the spell yourself?" Jake wondered.

"Because I can't cast magic... you already know that."

"Don't give me that. I'm a full-fledged black wizard. I know potential when I see it, and you most definitely have that potential."

"This is all very interesting, but why don't we get down to the matter at hand, here?" Rob asked. "If Kyle has potential, that's all well and good, but if we don't try to figure out this mystery, we could end up deep fried as the end of some bad dude's world conquest."

"Well, there are only two logical explanations, and I don't like either of them." Kyle thought out loud.

"Please elaborate," Jake said as patiently as he could.

"Well, the way I see it, there are two things that could cause this. One of them is the return of Chaos. The other is the possibility of something stronger than Chaos coming to this world. Either way, it amounts to pretty much the same thing."

"And what might the conclusion be?"

"We are utterly and irretrievably screwed."

"Why do you say that?" Steve asked.

"Jeez, just think about it for a minute! We had to leave the elemental orbs two thousand years in the past to supposedly ensure that Chaos would not come back. We barely stood a chance against him WITH the orbs of light, so how are we going to face him now? And if it's someone stronger, we were screwed from the moment this whole debacle started!"

Suddenly the door crashed open with nothing to have made it move. Nearly as suddenly, Kyle noticed a shadowy figure behind his knight friend.

"Steven! Look out!" Too late. The assassin had already done his work, and was now making a beeline for the window. He made it about halfway before a throwing knife embedded itself in his back.

"That was for how much those damned Phoenix Downs cost." Kyle said grimly. He then turned to administer the Life-giving drug to his currently deceased friend, and found out that someone had beat him to the punch.

"Damn. NEVER get your throat slit by an assassin. It's humiliating in addition to it hurting like hell until you die." Kyle smiled. His friend was back from the dead and no worse for the wear.

Jake grinned too. Then his expression quickly turned to a grimace. "I thought you said that door was warded." He said to Kyle.

"It was. I don't know how something took it down," Kyle said, trying to think.

Suddenly an ominous voice, something that sounded eerily like nails on a chalkboard whispered something to each of them.

"No warding is strong enough to keep me out... you shall all be dead within a fortnight." With that happy thought, the voice disappeared.

"Please. Tell me that isn't who I thought it was," Steven moaned.

"It was the General of the Undead. Lich." Jake said shakily.

"But we killed him! I remember him crumbling into dust! We all saw it!" Kyle exclaimed, desperate for something, anything to hold on to.

"No spirit is so far gone that it cannot be retrieved. And the undead are easier to revive than most others are. We have to leave as soon as possible. I fear it is no longer safe here. We should get some sleep tonight. We stand a better chance against anything that can be thrown at us if we can actually see it. " And with that note, they all turned in for the night, looking for answers in their dreams.

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Till next time! Sayonara!