Bwee!

And it's a new year all around the world! The sky is filled with fireworks as thousands of thousands of people send up their own little message to the jeavens, not thinking  that maybe the heavens might just send down their own message. The sky becomes a myriad of colour and light as the sky explodes vibrantly. And, in a slow, lazy fashion, snow falls from the sky, laying a soft, cold carpet across the ground.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, a suspicious man of iron appears brandishing a sharp stick screaming 'STOP THAT, STOP THAT! I'LL HAVE NONE OF I-

Okay, okay, just ignore that last line, then, okay? You get the picture. Happy new years, y'all.

First off, Thank the Reveiwers!

Beholder Of The Shadows: Ehehe, I'm sorry I deleted Jarred's old past, but I really, really, really, really wasn't happy with it. I read and re-read it, and it all the gramatical errors and bad plot just flared in my eyes. Not that this story is all that better grammer-wise, but hey, can't have everything, eh? Anyways, it's nice to know that somewhere in the world, someone likes the stuff I write, and rejoices when I return. Thank you for your reveiws, and funny antics. (If Yami gives you any problems, I know some demons who would be glad to shut him/her (I just realized I have no clue who this Yami is...) up.) Don't worry about how long your reviews are: The longer, the better, in my opinion.

Charles Xavier: One day, (Preferably when I rule the world) I'll have to ask why you choose to name yourself after an 'X-men' character, but in the meanwhile I'll stick to thanking you for your reveiws.

Natsu-Aoki: Although I don't normally engage in Chibi-slaughtering, you really should have known better. Feh, who cares? If the need arises, I'll let you borrow my horde, (Provided you don't send it against me afterwards. That would just be mean) Thanks for your reveiws 'n' all that good shtuff! Ja!

Arcander: French is one of those unique languages where it can be both a good and bad thing to know, I guess. German, however, is just plain hillarious. Ich habe einen großen Hellrot Schwa- Wait, maybe I shouldn't say that. No, definitely not. Anyway, thanks for your reveiws!

Mucomi9: Well, erm, that's a first. No-one's ever actually outright called me... Odd. I don't know if I should take that as a complement it an insult, but I'm hoping for the former. And I suppose that I might be capable of being *Shudder* Normal, but what would the fun of that be? As for your other question: You actually think my machine DOESN'T stop me from writing? My machine is one of the leading reasons for slow updates! I've played so many games that in the time I used on them, I could've gotten done with this fic MONTHS ago. You'd think I'd be able to stop, but, well, That'd take some serious reasoning, and when you're... Odd... enough to see the humour in a super-villain asking for monkeys, well, you realize you're a lost cause, and say 'buggerit' and move on to a new game. *sigh* Anyway, I'm glad you reviewed...     I think...     Yeah, I'm sure ^_^

Anyway, these final chapters are the equivelant to the end of of days to my characters, and many of my created characters will die, horrible horrible deaths. (Well, maybe not all that horrible.) Don't worry! (Not too much, at least.) I hate bad endings (IE; End of the world, everyone dies, the villain dies in stupid way, you get the point.) So there WILL be a good, genuine ending. For who though, remains to be seen (Mwuhahahaha!!!)

All must mourn. CLASS has... Retired... *Sigh*... I feel so... lost...


Ahem. On with the show, nê?

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Chapter XXXV: Evil People

"What? That's you're plan?" The Shadowlord screamed. "Five hundred years of living under us and the scourge and a thousand more of living beside us and all you can come up with at the end of days is to attach head on?! Where did you're parents go wrong?!"

"What other choices do we have?" Shakal returned, banging her fist on a flat stone that served as a table. "Jarred has three Genociders under his command, one of them a knight, an I've lost an elementalist that would have proven invaluable in this situation, and on top of that one of the humans that were coming with us is unaccounted for! You come up with a better plan, demon! But be quick; There's no telling how much time before Jarred makes his next move."

"Will you two put aside your towering egos for two seconds?!" Kahn snarled, promptly ignoring the snide remark from Aeris about hypocrites. "That black ball up there is a continuous blight! No denying it! That's his move for now! He's going to suck this planet dry, and move on to a larger scale! We have to stop him before that happens, though!" A thought suddenly struck him. "Why should you care if one of the humans were missing? As far as I know you only had them there appease Jarred! And obviously you care more about that than your own daughter! Where's she, hmm? Not panicking enough to my liking!" He added spitefully.

Shakal's face twisted into an ugly mask of anger.


"Silence!" She commanded. "My daughter still has a choice! She can follow her childish lust for Jarred, or she can fight him! Beyond that, I cannot, no, will not interfere! Half-Breeds know no bounds, Kahn! You should know! She is partly yours!" She growled.

Kahn's mouth opened, closed, opened, and then shut firmly, and opened once again for good measure. His eyes gleamed in shock, and his composure snapped like a twig holding an anvil. Claws dug through the rock as if it was butter, and his wings twitched every so often. It was obvious from his behaviour that nothing productive would come from him in a while. Shakal turned once again to the Shadowlord.


"I will take those who will follow me to The Black Sun of the Prince, and we will try to stop him, and pray that a new Prince will arise in a few years." She said. "None of the others got this far, after all." Her gaze shifted involuntarily to the black globe above, where the two crimson triangles glared outwards at the world, like a pair of eyes twisted out of place. The shadowlord's gaze followed hers, and he found himself staring at an evil that far surpassed him. He nodded grimly.

"He has the Villis Me Ka, doesn't he?" He asked, carefully.

Shakal Na Haxa nodded silently, and promptly smacked Kahn on the head.

"Wake up, you foolish demon!" she said before delivering the blow. "We have work to do!"

The 'humans' had been rudely left out of the planning, and weren't feeling too good about it.

Cloud held the Ultima Weapon in his hands, it's iridescent blade glowing brightly. Vincent, Cid and Tifa brandished their own weapons, while Reeve, Yuffie, Barret and Red XIII went to get the Highwind. They all stared up, a grim air about them. In the distance they could hear the Highwind's propellers cutting the air, and the loud growl of the engine. Mech-Head appeared beside them, holding his arms wide.

"I come peacefully." He said slowly, with a metallic edge in his voice. Vincent whirled around, the Death Penalty in his hands instantly. The demon found himself faced with the duel barrel of a weapon that could well rip his head to pieces, thusly killing him once again. "I come peacefully, dammit! Put the thing away!" A silent denial to do so greeted him. "Fine, just hear me out, then."

He took a deep breath, and spoke.

"As much as I hate you Valentine, I'm afraid I'm going to have to go with you. It's obvious the Shadowlord isn't going to go quick enough, and I want to see an end to this prophecy, once and for all." He said, with fierce determination. He patted the Massamune on his hip, and gestured the steel head attached to the sheath. "Besides, my quarrel with you is finished for the moment."

A second demon followed, brandishing two daggers.

"Faeryn Rath, Council member." She introduced herself, and bowed. "I already know your names, and I too demand to go with you. Jarred Rath is a, a personal issue for me." Her voice quivered at the mention of Jarred, and her hands clenched the daggers tight. "I have to meet him."

Vincent would have blown Mech-Head's brains out then and there, merely for the pleasure of seeing his horror filled face once again, if it hadn't been for Cloud's intervention. The blonde man pushed the Death Penalty away, and stared down the ex-Turk.

"We hate him too, Vince, but right now I think you can agree that we need all the help we can get. Jarred's a whole lot more powerful than Sephiroth ever was, and I don't think anyone thinks he'll so much as cringe at the thought of obliterating all life in exchange for what he considers a better life. I don't know about you," He gestured to Faeryn. "But I know our metal friend here has some nasty magic we'd be able to use against Jarred."


Vincent considered this, and remembered the glee that Jarred had taken in destroying the robotic army of Mech-Head, and half of Midgar to boot. He holstered the rifle, and proferred the golden claw.

"Welcome aboard." He said slowly, with a chill monotone that could have put talking coffins to shame. "But just one false move and I'll spatter you across the wall."

Mech-Head grinned, and took the claw in his own.

"Two failed experiments going against the mother of all perfections, eh?" The demon said, a crooked smile on his face. "I somewhat regret killing that damned machine now; He would've been useful right about now."


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Psin's wrists burned with pain, and his mind was filled with blinding pain, but even then there was Jarred, staring at him, smiling. Those crimson eyes, that scar riddled body, and the four, faint scars across his cheek. That smug, evil grin on his face. His blood boiled every time he saw it, and he struggled all the harder to loose himself from the dark bindings that held him. Blood flowed freely from the open wound from the struggle, but he ignored it. He would pay any price to see Jarred dead.

The accursed human sat next to him, and the two of them giggled at some joke every once and a while. The blood stone had been removed, and her normal complexion had returned. Her blonde hair, and white skin contrasted wildly with Jarred's black complexion, along with the sickening thought she could actually find him attractive.

Psin's eyes flared open for a moment.

The Blood Gem!

If he could get his hands on that stone, he could wield the power of darkness like Jarred did, and then he stood a chance of winning! It's ruby glamour gleamed darkly, ignored by the fools. It lay on the ground, unheeded and unnoticed  He reached out with his mind, seeking to pull it closer. It trembled, and rolled slightly. The mental tension was great, and he almost feel his brain burning from the strain. The gem began rolling faster.

A boot smashed down on the down, and the crystal tinkle of the gem break rose. Psin groaned in defeat. And went limp for a moment. The boot belonged to Spectre, who was staring up at Psin with a vicious grin. The blue eyes of Spectre glowed eerily, as he moved closer, a spell on his lips.

"Prince, our brother tried to free himself." He reported, blue flames leaping around his hands. "May I end him?"

Jarred was a little preoccupied with Elena at that exact moment, and his mouth was busy. His hand snaked out behind him, and waved in an affirmative motion. Spectre grinned evilly.

"Excell-"

Ghost was quicker on the uptake, however, had whipped out his pistol, and before anyone could stop him, pulled the trigger several times. Five long bangs ripped through the room, and Psin felt five hard impacts on his chest. He felt the blood coursing down his chest, and his face lost it's silvery complexion, fading to a sickly pale white.

Ghost hesitated for a moment, before raising his pistol and pulling the trigger. A bullet through Psin's skull silenced him forever.

Spectre whirled around, fuming.

"What were you thinking?! Jarred said *I* could kill him!"

Ghost beamed, and reloaded his weapon.

"First come first serve, my friend." Ghost said sneeringly, and smiled at Jarred as he turned around to see what the problem was. "Just disposing of a pest, brother."

Jarred stood up, and as if looking at something faraway, he frowned. He turned to Wraith, who stood up, awaiting commands.

"The Highwind is approaching," He stated, taking on a thoughtful look. "Take Ghost and Spectre with you to stop them. They will try to stop me, I fear."

"They haven't a prayer," Wraith said quickly, and saluted. He whirled around, and beckoned to Ghost, who unbuckled his voluminous cloak, and held it at ready. Jarred thrust his hand into the black floor, slowly pulling his hand free, pulling something with him. Glittering steel shone darkly, as pure, black energy rolled off it's edge. Jarred held the blade by the hilt, and passed it on to Wraith, who accepted it gratefully.


"Use my weapon well, brother. I will call it the Reviler, for it is made with the power of darkness that far surpasses anything normal mortals could forge." As if to punctuate him, the sword glinted, but instead of reflecting light, a pillar of shadows bounced off the edge, casting darkness across Wraith's face.


"A wondrous weapon, to be sure." He muttered, before joining Ghost and Spectre. "I will put t to good use, brother. Of that you may be sure!" Ghost's cloak whirled around them, and for a brief moment they shimmered, and then vanished.

Jarred smiled, cruelly. In his mind's eye he could feel the blade, and it's terrible hatred of life. It betray Wraith, the first chance it got. And when he died, he would die for good. The blade would see to that.

"But, then again, you may still survive." He muttered, musing the idea to himself. "But how will you react once you realize that your master has betrayed you? Will you attack me as well? Or will you crumble back into non-existence? Either way, your purpose will be served: You will sever your bonds to me, and then will I alone possess the power to create the new world." The smile broadened, and he laughed out loud.

He forgot, however, that Elena could hear every word, and with each musing she became more worried.

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They appeared out of nowhere, and moved like greased lightening. However, you didn't get to throw down demi-gods by being slow to react, and the collective of AVALANCHE reacted like one whole mind, instantly going into battle positions, each one brandishing their own weapon.

Cloud Strife's massive sword clashed against Wraith's dark, evil blade, which flared darkly. Ghost whipped out a machine gun, and tattered laughter and gunshot were all they heard from him. Vincent tried his level best to keep the crazed man at bay, but you could only do so much to someone who could turn invisible, or teleport. As for Spectre, well, Mech Head was frantically casting spells to keep him at bay, while cursing colourfully.

Wraith pushed Cloud back, and leapt back, holding the sword high and open, a classic offensive form. The Ultima sword moved in a glowing circle as Cloud rushed forward, and spun around quickly. The black blade turned the blow, and came up quickly in an upwards slash. Cloud moved more on instinct than actual thought, and barely dodged the attack. Wraith leaped back once again, visibly daunted.


"You're quick." He admitted, grudgingly. "I can see how you beat Sephiroth." A wicked smile cracked across the tall swordsman's lips, and he held the sword in two hands now, hunching forward.

~BUT YOU CANNOT BEAT A GENOCIDER!~ He screamed mentally, and dashed forward. Cloud calmly took this in, and as the black eyed man approached, he sidestepped, turning around to meet Wraith as he wiped his blade around, seeking an opening.

Sparks flew as the blades met, and Wraith's mouth clenched as the vibrations shot through the handle and into his hands, rocking his very bones. Cloud kicked one of Wraith's knees, suddenly, and the snap of bone could be heard.

Wraith lost control, for a moment, but a moment was eternity needed to exact a price. The black sword quivered, then shattered, and the Ultima blade slashed him across the chest.

Cloud raised his weapon, and brought it down with a grim look on his face. Blood splashed across the floor, and Wraith's body slumped down, while his head came down in quite a different end of the Highwind.


Cloud inspected the scene for a moment, before confronting Spectre.

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The God Of Petie-ism sez: Review, or suffer the same fate as the Ungerfolgians!

You say: Who were the 'Ungerfolgians'?

The God Of Petie-ism sez: My point exactly.

No, not really, but review, cuz it encourages me to write. And I need that.