Not much to say, except today's chapter's name is from Lords Of Acid, and is called 'Out Comes The Evil'. Enjoy, unwary readers!

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Chapter XXII: Out Comes The Evil

Kahn eventually did sleep, with his claws dug deep into the Highwind to prevent him from falling. His scaly wings were neatly folded, but where kept under his chest. So that they wouldn't unlodge and cause him to loose heat in his sleep. He turned his head to the west, so that the rising sun would shine in his eyes, and hopefully wake him at a decent hour.

No such luck.

The demon finally roused to the sound of Vincent's boots slamming against the Highwind, in which he was thrown out of sleep violently, inhaling spit, and coughing.

"I'm not a morning person myself, if its any consolation." Vincent said, as the demon rose drowsily. He staggered for a minute, before regaining balance, and realized where he was. He dug his claws into the steel hull of the Highwind.

"What are you doing here, Valentine?!" He demanded hotly, glaring threateningly. He had killed people for less. Eventually he shrugged. He was banished, an exile, he would have to tolerate this. No more airs. "Oh, never mind." He shrugged.

Vincent raised an eyebrow.

"Who are you and what did you do with Kahn?"

Kahn glared at Vincent with slit eyes.

"But I'm right here, Vincent." Kahn asked with mild amusement. "But I've been realizing lately that if I want to survive very long in... My new home, then I should at least make an effort to fit in."

Vincent smiled.

"My my, you broke out of your prison? And I thought you wanted to play by the rules."

Kahn's free hand shot through the air, without seeming to move at all. It clasped around Vincent's throat, lightly, but showing him that the demon wasn't appreciative of the gesture.

"I don't think you know the seriousness of what is happening, Valentine. Not all is what it seems. Now Seran was dispatched to kill me and the Cetra, the Shadowlord himself is here to wage a war, and your black skinned friends are at the core of this war." He said. "I'm taking my chance and running to... a friend."

Vincent's golden claw came up, and removed the demon's grasp.

"Why are they after you?"

"Why do you think? I'm helping that cursed CETRA!"

Vincent thought about this for a moment.

"She saved the world though." He reasoned. "The Cetra that killed your people are long dead."

Kahn smiled wryly.

"You aren't getting it, are you? If I were to kill Yuffie, and banish you to thousands of years of sleep, what would you do?"

Vincent didn't even hesitate.

"I'd kill you."

"What if I wasn't alive?"

"I'd destroy whatever you held dear."

"My children?"

Vincent suddenly realized where Kahn was getting.

"I see. So that's what demons think of Cetra."

"Worse. We ARE the centre of evil, you know. We're responsible for everything bad."

Coming from Kahn, Vincent knew that was a cynical comment, but it did bear some meaning.

"So, if you hate the Cetra so much, why did you help Aeris?"

Kahn was silent. A thoughtful look passed over his face, and then he smiled. Something Vincent wasn't accustomed to.

"She reminded me of someone."

Vincent shrugged. He flapped his wings, and joined his friends down below, to discuss what their first actions would be.

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Jarred was waiting by the shell, just as he had said he would, fully clothed and a smile on his face. Elena smiled back, brushing her blonde hair back into place. Ghost walked out from the shell, and tossed her pistol to her.

"Keep that in easy reach, human. Never leave without it." He looked at her green Materia for a moment, before handing them over as well. "You won't be needing those. If anything comes close, shoot it if you can, but if you can't, let me and Jarred take care of it. And under no circumstances use them while either Jarred or myself is using magic. Never."

He put his hat on his head, and arranged his shoulder cape and pauldron. Apparently satisfied, he squatted down on his haunches, waiting. Jarred approached Elena.

"Well, erm, Elena, me and Ghost here noticed how tired you were yesterday, and you didn't even run very fast, so we decided to take turns carrying you north." He said, but added quickly. "But only if you want to."

Elena thought of this. If she had lagged behind with Reno or Rude, the wouldn't have hesitated to leave her behind. She had always seemed like the third wheel to them. Ghost was doing the same, but was giving her slight respect, while Jarred seemed to be doing it out of consideration and the will to help.

"Sure. Maybe it might tire you two out."

Ghost smirked, and Jarred laughed. Elena regarded the two with mild puzzlement.

"What? Did I stumble on an inside joke or something?"

"Sort of." He turned to Ghost, and they began playing rock-paper-scissors. Jarred won once, and Ghost cursed softly, then Ghost won. At that point Elena had to know what they were doing.

"We're finding out who carries you first." Ghost answered, a sly smile appearing. Elena shuddered.

"If its all the same to you two, I'd like for Jarred to carry me. The WHOLE time if he would."

There was a moment's silence, then Ghost's eyes seemed to shatter. He looked totally crestfallen. Jarred was mildly amused about the whole matter.

"Really? Why?"

Elena shrugged. "Preferable company."

Jarred's strong arms lifted her once again, his warmth flowing into her. It was a comforting feeling, one that she enjoyed greatly. Jarred wrapped his cloak tighter, to keep both of them warm, and began running through the city. Elena wrapped her arms around Jarred, to prevent herself from falling. The ancient city moved in a blur as Jarred moved like lightening through it. Ghost matched his pace, with his loose clothes billowing and blowing behind him. Every time they passed a bend of some sort, it seemed they HAD to fall, but they merely leaned inwards to the curves, sometimes coming so close that Elena thought she might be able to touch it. As they came to what seemed to be an obstacle they would have to stop and climb over, they leapt over it. Elena watched from Jarred's back as they made a good five feet into the air before they began to descend again. They hit the ground with a slam, and Elena would have sworn that she heard stone crushed underfoot. But of course, they were moving too fast for her to be sure.

At that pace, it was a very short time before they arrived at the mountain face, its steep surface staring imposingly down at them. Jarred let Elena down, who was feeling a bit woozy afterwards. Jarred held an arm around her to steady the Turk. He turned to Ghost.

"Take us up, Ghost." He commanded.

Ghost unbuckled his cloak, and swirled it around them in a quick spin.

The sensation of teleporting was a strange one, Elena noted. As the cloak crossed her line of vision, she felt terribly disoriented, woozy, with a keen sense of vertigo, and the as the cloak left her vision, the mountain in front of her was instead replaced by the long stretches that were the snowfields of the north.

And the second thing she saw just about made her head spin.

Running towards them, what seemed to be an army of them, was a mass of demons. Oh, she couldn't tell it was demons right away, she thought they might have been a stray pack of wolves or monsters, but as they approached and came closer, she could pick out some of the more obvious features. There was a hundred, at least. Most looked like The Galian Beast, one of the demons that had inhibited the mind Of Vincent Valentine for years, others looked like Nox Seran, or Chaos. But there was no doubt about what they were. They were demons, all of them. Elena pulled out her pistol, and aimed.

Seemingly from out of nowhere, something big dropped from the sky, followed by three others. The first one looked strangely human, except for the black skin, crimson markings, horns and wings, while the others Elena recognized in a second. Chaos, Hate, and Mech-Head.

Ghost reached into his coat with both hands, pulling out both his weapons. The first one raised a hand as Ghost pulled the triggers. The bullets screamed outwards, but exploded into little shards of steel as if they hit an invisible wall.

"Why waste your strength if you know who I am?" It asked, regarding Ghost with amusement.

Ghost turned to Jarred.

"There are too many for us, Jarred. We need a genocider, we need Wraith."

Jarred Sneered. Elena noticed with slight horror as Jarred showed a darker side of himself.

"Then go. Bring me the genocider." He ordered, and drew out his axe. "But I stay."

Rage stood out on Jarred's features plainly. Something about the sight of demons released such hatred in him, Elena noticed. Whereas Jarred's eyes were normally just red, they blazed hotly, burning with red light. His hand clenched tightly around his axe handle.

Ghost stared with disbelief, looked at the demons, looked back at Jarred, but shrugged and teleported reluctantly. The warrior left his shoulder cape behind, however.

Jarred faced the demon boldly.

"I don't know who you are, but I know who THAT is," He pointed the axe head at Mech-Head. "And if your with him then I don't like you already."

The human-like demon smiled cruelly, showing off an array of cruel fangs.

"You don't know who I am? Well, that doesn't matter. I know who YOU are. You're the Prince Of Darkness." It's smile widened. "I'm here to kill you."

Jarred slitted his eyes.

"Elena, start running." He commanded, the life in his voice giving way to icy coldness.

And Elena, one of the fabled Turks, the most feared people in Midgar, ran. She ran from what she knew to be a greater evil. Behind her she could hear Jarred scream out a battle cry, and a small explosion. She looked over her shoulder to see Jarred summoning his globes with his gloved hand, and throwing them at the demon. She watched in wonder as the demon merely let the globes slam into him, exploding around him, but he was unscathed. Those globes that had destroyed so many buildings in Midgar, didn't even make it flinch. Finally, upon seeing the futility of his magic, Jarred leapt forward, brandishing his weapons. Elena turned around. That demons really WAS going to kill Jarred! He didn't stand a chance by himself. Maybe, if she helped, they might escape long enough for Ghost to bring help. Elena went down on knee, and took careful aim.

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Jarred swung his hand-axe down in a sweeping motion. The demon dodged easily, slashing out with his claws. They grazed his cheek, right where Malice had cut him months before.

"You may have killed a few demons in your time, Jarred, but you have no chance against me. Not yet, at least."

As the blood ran down his face, and the demon pulled his claws away, sneering nastily.

"You don't even know who I am."

Jarred's eyes flared hotly.

"Everyone dies, demon."

Jarred arched his body suddenly, summoning as much energy he could. Black flames leapt into life, crawling across his body hungrily. Jarred relaxed, going into a crouch. He tensed, and leapt forward.

The demon always seemed one step ahead of him, though, sidestepping and dodging. Jarred set the flames after him, hoping they could get the demon, but no such luck. It merely stretched out a hand, and the flames was sucked in as if they had been caught in a black hole.

Jarred crouched down, panting deeply.

"Nice moves, Prince, but not enough to stand against me." It said with a laugh.

Those clawed hands lashed out, digging painfully into his chest. Jarred gasped, and blood dripped from his mouth, but he was not beaten yet. With a evil smile, and a look of triumph, Jarred spread his arms out, summoning more energy than he ever had before.

Four globes appeared, one in each hand, and two floating around him. The demon looked with slight confusion, but was undaunted by this. It wrenched its claws around inside Jarred, and more blood dripped out. Jarred flinched, but his smile broadened. More energy rushed towards him faster. As more energy was summoned, more globes appeared, circling him faster, stronger. Just as ten appeared, Jarred clapped his hands together, roaring out a single word.

"BLIGHT!"

A black light welled around them, burning the air. Jarred laughed wildly. His eyes burned furiously, as his strength fed the spell in power. The light got stronger, swelling outwards. The demon dropped Jarred, and stood in horror at the spell taking form.

Jarred stood up, as if nothing had happened. His hand clutched his chest, but there was a blue light that showed that he was working a healing spell. Slowly, the blood vanished from his face and garments, as his wounds were healed. He stood erect, staring at the black light that was surrounding him. He held himself with his arms, as if to keep warm, and suddenly roared at the sky, letting his hands drop from his side. The black light shuddered, contracted, and then began to slowly expand. The air howled in pain as it was burned. As the light touched the ground it groaned as well. Anything it touched withered and died, crumbling to dust.

The demons took one look at what was happening, and turned tail and ran, with the light growing in their wake.

Jarred let loose a wild cackle, and let the spell dissipate. The light jolted forward in all directions, but faded quickly. He looked at the land that had been touched by the terrible light.

The ground in Midgar couldn't compare to what it looked like there. It was dead. Thoroughly killed. It was scorched black, with crack rippling out across it. Where there had once been snow, only bare ground lay. Where there had been trees or bushes, nothing remained. There seemed to be a depression in the land where the light had centred, which was probably true. The air was thick and hot, but soon gave way to the chill of the north. Nothing alive survived where the light had touched.

Jarred suddenly felt the aftershock of his spell. The loss of precious magic. It started out like a faint dizziness, but spread through the rest of him like lightening. He felt drained, weak. He collapsed to his knees, like he had done after fighting the Vlakorados. But this time darkness didn't greet him. No, this time, he would be drained completely before he could allow himself the pleasure of passing out in pain. Weakness was surging through him fast, and soon he was unable to keep on his knees. He started leaning to the side, trying to keep upright, but it was a futile fight. He fell to the ground. He was limp, not because he passed out, but because he simply lacked the power to put up any resistance.

As his eyelids literally weighed like they were tied to bricks, and he could feel his hair burning on his head like acid, he finally passed out completely.

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Ghost appeared in the 'house' of Wraith with a spooked look. Wraith glared imperiously at the thin warrior with his black, piercing gimlets.

"I hope you enjoyed yourself, brother, for while you have been gone we have been without a way out of here, and therefore cannot fulfil our duty."

"Don't give me that, Wraith!" Ghost snapped. "You've lost the need to serve Jarred and you know it!"

"SILENCE!" Wraith boomed mentally, black eyes flaring. "YOU DARE INSULT ME IN MY VERY HOME?"

Ghost flicked his cloak, but found that it wasn't there. Instead, he clenched his fists.

"Jarred's in trouble, brother." He forced the word out spitefully. "Prove yourself by giving aid in his hour, no, minute of need!" He pleaded.

Wraith sneered.

"What foolishness have you lead the Prince into?" He demanded.

"No foolishness of mine, brother! The Shadowlord himself is here!"

Wraith lashed out with his right hand, picked Ghost up.

"Get Spectre, NOW!" He commanded, throwing Ghost down. "The return and take us to the Prince. He is in need of our strength."

Ghost swallowed hard, and rushed to obey. He faded, and teleported up a floor to Spectre's domain.

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Psin watched with fascination as the black light receded. He ran a hand through his silvery hair absent-mindedly, musing at the massive power at work.

~So this is the power of the Prince Of Darkness. Impressive.~ He thought

Psin had read the ancient writings of the Half-Breeds, and read what they had to offer on the Prince Of Darkness' powers, but to witness some of it up close... No writing could have prepared him for this Jarred was by far more powerful than he had first thought. And if the writings were accurate, than that speel was weak compared to some of the other things he could do with practice. The possibilities...

He watched with amusement as the human ran to Jarred, who had fallen to his knees. ~Of course,~ Psin thought.

~someone as inexperienced as Jarred would naturally be exhausted after a spell like that.~

Psin could feel even from there the magic depletion Jarred had created. If the Cetra had been alive they would have demanded his head on a plate. But they weren't, which was a godsend for magic development.

The mercenary teleported to Jarred, seeking to help Jarred. Sure, he hated Jarred, but HE wanted to kill Jarred, not for Jarred to kill Jarred. That would be... anticlimactic, really.

The human leapt back from him in surprise at his appearance, but he ignored her. Instead, he turned his attention to Jarred.

"Ah, poor Jarred. Used too much power, huh? That always seems to be a problem with you. You can't seem to be a normal person like the rest of us." Psin pulled a sleeve down from his coat, and rubbed his wrist. "You just have to go and wield so goddamn much power." He drew a small dagger form his other sleeve, and held it to his exposed wrist. He turned to the human.

"You, human, hold his mouth open if want him alive." She gave him a look of surprise and shock, still surprised to see him. Psin gave up on her and did it himself, balancing Jarred's head and forcing his mouth open.

Quickly, he slit his wrist and held forth his bleeding hand over Jarred's mouth. His blood flowed freely, and dripped onto Jarred's face. Some fell into his mouth, which was the purpose, but the point of it was to give some of his strength to Jarred, to allow him to survive his weakness. After a few seconds, he healed the wound he had inflicted himself, and pulled his wrist away.

Jarred's face was smeared with blood now, but it was being absorbed. Half- breed blood was always absorbed. There was magical qualities to it that made it a more effective magic restorative than Ether. Soon, Jarred's face was clean once more not a trace of crimson left.

Once again, he turned to the human.

"You've been a lovely audience, but now I have to leave." He remarked snidely. "Tell Jarred that Psin gives his regards." And with that teleported away.

~Yes, I am SO slick.~ He thought, seeking to amuse himself. ~Hit 'n' heal. Jarred's gonna kill when he hears he missed another opportunity to kill me.~

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Everyone in AVALANCHE saw the black light as it spanned out to the east of them. Kahn and Nox Seran both shuddered immediately as it began, and looked immensely better as it receded.

"What the F-ยค%# is that!"

Kahn answered for both of them.

"The blight. An ancient spell, almost forgotten. With good reason. It make one of your mako-reactors look like a steam engine. Nothing survives where the blight has touched the land. Nothing grows again. Ever."

Nox Seran looked out at where the light had been.

"All but forgotten, except by the Prince Of Darkness." Suddenly he realized what he had said, and that Wraith had explained what he Prince was to these people. Kahn brightened up for a moment, but killed the emotion with a frown suddenly. AVALANCHE suddenly brightened up.

"Jarred's alive?" Red XIII asked. Hopeful looks from the people around fixed on Nox Seran.

The demon mentally hit himself on the head.

"Yes."

"Well then lets pick up the kid!" Cid exclaimed. "Prolly freezin' his ass off!"

There was an unanimous agreement. Silently, the two demons respectively cursed and thanked the fates. Kahn, thanking. Nox Seran, cursing with some of his newly acquired words.