AN. Greetings once more readers. I thank you for you support thus far and would like to answer a question that was posed to me. The answer Li Katsuya and anyone else interested is that, yes I will be writing a Jak 3 fanfiction as soon as it comes out in Britain and I have a chance to play it. But until then I will be working on an AU fanfiction of the Jak 2 universe. I shall be posting a teaser of that work alongside the final instalment of Destiny's Choice, I hope you enjoy it as much as you have enjoyed this. Now, on with the story.

The Visionary

Chapter 10- Victory

Torn cut an impressive figure as he strode through the lower levels of the palace core in full battle regalia, his tattooed features sweeping all before him as the heavy, polished red plates of armour slid smoothly over each other with his movements. In one hand he held one of his pistols, his other ready with a grenade as behind him Krimson Regulars marched double-time up the main stairwell four abreast, their fire-lances levelled and ready as the sounds of hundreds of footsteps echoed and shook the walls. Pausing as an opening came into sight Torn held up three fingers and immediately the front thirty of those behind him were ready. With a flick of his wrist he sent them into a charge and let himself be swept along in their midst as they rushed up the stairs, the bulk of the five hundred Krimson Regulars that had already come through the portal marching up behind them at a steadier pace.

The first of the Palace's ground levels drew out before him and just as the thirty spilled onto the landing a half dozen Krimson Elite rushed across from an opening heading to reinforce some weakness in the front line. The last thing they had expected was to be accosted within the core sectors of the palace and even as they first noticed that they were not alone Torn's grenade span into the middle of their group. It detonated in a boiling flash of red eco and three of them screamed as it shattered their armour and fragile bodies within. The remainder began to sprint for cover, levelling their fire lances. But it was already too late, the Regulars rushed at them, fire-lances hosing the room with searing heat and energy. Torn snapped off two shots for good measure as the last of them were cut down, their own, panicked, return fire tracing trails of molten metal across the walls, flying wide of the regulars that even now took up covering positions on each of the entrances.

As the rest of the regulars filled the doorway Torn picked out the ten Captains that had joined him, each with fifty men under their command. Singling out two of them he pointed to two of the exits from the large, well-lit hallway.

'You and you take your commands along the main causeways to the outer western sectors on this level, the automated defences are being activated as the troops outside push inwards so destroy anything that you come across before they realise we're here. Take the Elite from behind, don't let yourselves be bogged down into a firefight, keep pushing until you meet Regulars coming the other way, radio me when you've got paths to the street open and we'll start putting as many men as we can through. The others and I will start on the upper levels, secure the hangers. If all goes well we'll have most of the palace by the end of the day.'

What most people did not realise about the palace was that far from being simply a well-defended building it was a city unto itself in many ways. Mile upon mile of hall, acres of rooms, up to five thousand civilian personnel and somewhere in there, still over a thousand Elite to be overcome. It had to be taken like a city, a bit at a time, with reinforcements and tactics. Torn loved tactics, mostly because he was the absolute best when it came to utilising them. Hefting his pistol he turned back to the rest of the strike force as the two captains jogged off, Regulars peeling away from the column to form up behind them. Turning back to the stair well he set off at a jog, heading further up, deeper into the core of the palace.

'The rest of you follow me but watch your fire on the upper levels, the wastelanders are up there taking care of the Elite reinforcements and we don't want any friendly kills!' Pulling free his second pistol he flicked the safety off, 'Now come on, we've got a palace to take.'

The Palace Control room:

Michaels gritted his teeth in a tight smile of triumph as he watched the security monitors. The Regulars had been throwing troops against the western gates for almost half an hour and had yet to establish a true foothold, every attempt to break through his defences thrown back by the unbridled savagery of his Elite and the sheer power of the automated defences. He suppressed a gleeful chuckle as he watched three regulars break into a hall only to be mown down in an instant by the gatling cannons that guarded the door on the opposite side. Next to him the captains conducted the defence with grimmer faces, nodding in satisfaction each time a new rebel thrust was shattered by their counter-manoeuvres,

The central control room of the palace was a massive cylinder, tier upon tier of control banks and computer screens lining the walls for almost twenty stories, a central column holding even more, hundreds of technicians busily seeing to the needs of the palace and the communication of Michael's orders. Along one side the ecotronic glow held an ugly dark wound where the city's automated defence controls had once been, shattered consoles and hissing wires staring dully out onto the hive of activity. Michaels had set dozens of technicians to repairing it but in the melee they were needed elsewhere and harnesses and welding torches lay scattered along the walkways alongside abandoned replacement parts and various other instruments.

The central column ended in a platform half-way up the room and it was from here that Michaels watched the proceedings along with the five Generals of the Elite. In front of him a massive array of screens switched feeds every few seconds as he viewed another part of the battle. As fighting broke out on a new level the monitor switched to show carriers streaming into one of the palaces halls through a gaping wound in its outer wall, the weapons on their underbellies scouring the walls and doors with fire. As they sank to the ground, their rear doors opening, regulars leapt from them only to find themselves immediately forced into cover as Elite swarmed into the entranceways and another firefight began.

'Generals, report, how long can we expect this to go on for?'

The officers turned to him, one electing himself spokesperson as he tore a print-out from a nearby machine, running his eyes over is briefly. 'We've got them pinned down in most areas and they can't advance any further into the palace. But we lack the manpower to displace them from the heaviest assaulted areas and so they may be able to establish footholds and bring heavier equipment in to counter-act the bulkheads that we've been using to split their forces.'

Another of them spoke up as he listened to a transmission through his ear-piece. 'There's almost three hundred Elite ready for deployment in the barracks sir. They were on their rest shift but a double shot of adrenaline will have them ravenous for combat for the next two hours. We put them into the fight and we'll break the Rebel attack, they'll be forced to retreat for now.'

Michaels was about to nod his confirmation when the entire room shook as though the epicentre of an earthquake, a noise like thunder nearly deafening him as he felt the vibrations of some almighty concussion numb his legs. Dust rained down from the roof as he staggered against a rail, staring around frantically as everywhere throughout the room lights suddenly shone red, sirens blaring as the palace's systems screamed in protest to whatever assault had just rocked them.

Trying to make himself heard over the screaming sirens and rising undercurrent of panicked shouts Michaels scrambled to his feet, seizing one of his Generals by the collar. 'What the hell was that? Did they set off an E-bomb or something?'

Gesticulating wildly at one of the control panels the General's voice held a note of fear, 'I don't know Sir, the internal sensors are going berserk, there's been some sort of detonation in the core area.'

'What? Show me!'

The General's hands danced over the keyboard as his eyes darted along the rows of data flashing on screen before him, 'I'm trying to find a camera in the area that still works sir… Here! I'm patching it through to the main screen.'

The massive bank of monitors flickered with interference for a brief moment before the image cleared a little, a hazy picture of the elite barracks appearing, a camera on the cavernous, high-arched main hall of the barracks wavering on the brink of failure. All along the length of the hall other doors led to the various barracks and the rows of beds and storage lockers that made up the Elite's few personal possessions. Except that the main hall was empty of the training equipment and mess facilities that should have inhabited it, the whole thing was just… gone. On one side of the image Michaels could see that an entire wall had collapsed, a land-slide of rubble covering half the length of the hall debris scattered everywhere upon metal that had been blackened by fire, scoured clean.

Even as he watched, the aftermath sent another wall crumbling, the collapse slowly travelling upward until another section of the fifty-foot walls caved in, scattering dust and stone across the floor. As the dust settled the skeleton of rooms beyond showed that the mere shock of the blast had all but demolished them as well. For all intents and purposes, the barracks was gone and from the looks of it so was almost everything else nearby. Faintly, from beyond the collapsed wall sunlight began to filter into the room. Whatever the blast was it had blown clear through to the outer wall and punched a hole in the palaces outer armour. Off to another side the roof began to cave in and then suddenly the camera went dead as with a final groan the roof gave up and collapsed.

Michaels felt another shockwave rock the control room and knew with a sinking feeling that the barracks had just caved in, which meant that the entire south-western upper sector was now simply a pile of rubble resting on the main support beams that shored up the barracks floor. In normal terms something like fifty large houses had just collapsed.

'What the hell happened?' He screamed as he rounded on his captains, his eyes smouldering with fury.

For a reply he received a panicked call as one of the generals suddenly picked out a message from the blizzard of information scrolling through his earpiece. Whirling to Michaels his face was white as he spoke, 'Sir, we've got a problem in the lower core sectors…'

The South-eastern upper sector:

Jak coughed as the plume of dust washed over his group, pressing his nose and mouth into his sleeve to keep the dust from them. For a moment the Wastelanders crouched, letting the shockwaves of the collapse pass them over, the dust carried by the current stinging their eyes. As the air began to still and the dust settled Jak stood, spitting grit as he pushed his goggles up once more, dusting down his clothes as on the shoulder Daxter coughed exaggeratedly.

'Geez Sig, what the hell was in that package?'

Beside him the Wastelander brandished his peacemaker, 'Old family recipe Jak, my daddy taught it to me, he used to use it for levelling off new areas of farmland. I found out it works just as well to level buildings and started leavin' 'em as house warming presents whenever I overstayed my welcome on a job.'

Jak craned his neck around the corner and stared back down the passage to where the roof had caved in. In the intermittent space a half-dozen elite lay sprawled. These were the few that had chased them after Sig had thrown his father's recipe into the biggest stash of explosives he could see in the hall. They had been cut down by Jak and the other wastelanders as they raced away from the barracks and those that had chosen to pursue more cautiously were now entombed in the rubble. At least Miranda had made sure that all of the servants were down in the cells where the regulars could protect them.

He turned with a grin, 'Right, that ought to keep 'em occupied for a little while. Now come on, Keira's this way.' On his shoulder Daxter glanced uneasily at back at the rubble.

'Yeah, okay, no more blowing things up though. I'm gonna be combing bits of palace out of my fur for weeks as it is.'

As the group took off at a trot Jak grinned up at him, 'No promises Dax.' The Wastelanders were an odd crew of all ages, experienced, hardened veterans running alongside new bloods whose natural talent and ferocity made up for their lack of seasoning. They wore an odd mish-mash of armour, some with clean-smooth, custom built plates that interlocked perfectly across their frames while others sported crude, scavenged affairs, leather, metal and even ceramic plate strapped together across their clothing. Each of them was armed according to his own taste, some with long-barrelled, elegant sniper rifles while others, those more of Sig's school of thought sported heavier affairs. They moved with silent efficiency, a mercenary's caution in their movements as the jogged from corner to corner, checking side-passages and chambers swiftly as they ran.

The cells that Miranda had described were only a few moments away from the barracks, originally they had seen use detaining those among the guard who over stepped their authority or abused it. Under Praxis reign the list of behaviour considered excessive was almost non-existent and so they had begun to be used for the servants whenever they grew unhappy with their lot. As they came up to corridor that led to it Jak held up his fist bringing their column to a halt, inching one eye around the corner to take in what opposed them at the entrance. Daxter saw the change that came over him as he spotted the first of the five guards and the hunter in him took over. His eyes narrowed and his hands felt the contours of his rifle as his tongue darted across his lips. Then without a sound he broke into a full sprint.

Servant's Cell Block:

Jethias, the Sergeant who had been left in charge of Keira had just risen to check on the men outside, his request for information from control met with a string of expletives and rebuttals from a desperate communications technician. His men had taken over the small guard-room, chairs stolen from the more lavishly decorated rooms nearby surrounding a small card-table laden with the various wagers they had taken to making in order to pass the time. At both ends of the room heavy, metal doors separated the guard room from the rest of the palace in front and the cells behind.

The cell-block itself was small compared to the massive units down in the foundations, it's walls cleaner and the cells well-lit, the low ceiling meaning that only one tier of metal doors ran along its sides. Whatever had just happened however had just shaken half of them free, dust covering the floor as the lights flickered. The door to the rest of the palace also swung ponderously loose on its hinges, the hydraulic pressure drained from its locks by the vibrations that had just shaken the entire Palace.

Mindful of the fluid still leaking from the cylinders inside he almost missed the muffled thump from outside followed closely by the sound of metal striking the wall. The unmistakable sound of a body sprawling on the floor reached his ears as a shadow darted across the door and stifled the warning cry of the second guard before it could even begin. As a crack told him that the second guard's neck had just been snapped he span and snatched up his fire-lance, sighting along the barrel as all around him his men scrambled to their feet, the monotony of their station suddenly relieved by the mysterious invader.

As he turned to bark an order a figure appeared for an instant in the door, three shots snapped off in quick succession, one hissing past his face. The heat of it scorched his cheek as he dove for cover his men stopped in their tracks as rushing the door suddenly became the least attractive of their options. From outside there came the sound of running feet, his ears telling him that the group congregating outside outnumbered his small command by a good amount. Even as he struggled to think of what to do his ear-piece crackled into life demanding he lead his men to the lower levels, the sounds of a vicious fire-fight providing a back-ground to the screamed orders. Before he could even begin to comprehend the transmission a voice rang out from beyond the door.

'Let the girl go and I won't kill you all.' He looked up and the figure that had sent him scrambling for cover appeared in the doorway, a morph-gun held easily in his hands as burning blue eyes speared him.

Shadows moved behind him and Jethias caught the shapes of more weapons but remained defiant. These men wore no uniforms and even four Elite could hold a room like this against a hundred amateurs, at least until reinforcements were ready. His confidence showed as he brought his fire-lance up, 'Just who the hell do you think you are to think you can take on the Elite?'

The blue eyes glinted and something in them called to a memory in his mind, a face that he had seen displayed upon view-screens and posters throughout the city. As it was his features were smoke grimed, blood running from a burn above his left temple where a shot had come too close, but he recognised those eyes. Even before his reply Jethias knew that these were no amateurs. 'I'm Jak.'

The change that came over the men was an almost instantaneous, whole body affair as their confidence evaporated and every cell in their bodies collectively shrank back and said in a very small voice,

'Oh dear.'

Jak smirked and time seemed to be left behind as his rifle snapped up in an instant and he squeezed the trigger. Jethias' head jerked back as most of it was incinerated by the bolt of yellow eco and Jak leapt forward as time caught up and the elite unfroze. Diving with a sinuous grace he felt the heat of the two fire-lance beams that tore past him. The smell of o-zone filled his nostrils as the lethal mix of red and yellow eco scorched the air itself but he ignored the familiar stench as he hit the ground in a roll. The two that had neglected the need for cover paid for it with their lives and even as their shots went wide two wastelanders in the door found their mark and the two went down as the last kicked over the table and threw himself down behind it. His speed meant that a third wastelander that let fly with twin pistols did nothing but scar the tabletop. However, as he raised his fire-lance with a snarl it was to find that as swift as he had been, Jak had been swifter and now a tiny red dot glimmered steadily on his left temple.

The shot echoed for a moment in the bare room and then all was quite once more. The only sound was the slow sizzle of molten metal and rock as it cooled, the shots that had gone wild scoring trails of heat and light through the walls of the room. A half-dozen wastelanders stood with Jak as they surveyed the battle-field, their weapons smoking silently as in the doorway the others turned back to watching the hall.

Jak glanced down as the radio on the body at his feet crackled into life, a familiar voice speaking in frantic tones. 'Sergeant, get the prisoner ready! Marr has escaped from his cell! He'll be coming for her! You'll have to use her as a human shield to get him under control! The regulars have broken into the compound, he's the only one who can stop them, bring him up to the throne room and we'll use the girl to force him into telling them to cease the attack, it'll dissolve the malita.'

Jak bent down and plucked the radio up, speaking into it slowly, 'Hello Michaels, the Sergeant can't talk right now, he's dead. I'm a bit busy myself but don't you worry, in a little while I'll be coming to talk to you in person.'

The other side of the line went silent and Jak smirked before he tossed it aside, hefting his rifle as he let the red glimmer of the laser sight come to rest on the lock. Gritting his teeth he let fly with three shots, the bolts of yellow eco slamming home with a hiss as the metal began to glow red hot, great globules of molten steel dripping from the lock before a fourth shot punched a hole straight through. His boot did the rest and the glowing lock disintegrated as he booted it open, levelling his rifle instantly as the hall of cells came into view. From his shoulder Daxter narrowed his eyes.

'Looks clear, let's go find her good buddy.'

Jak was at a sprint almost before he had finished speaking, his eyes flashing left and right as he passed each pair of cells, his boots ringing against the metal gratings of the floor as he roared her name. So hurried was he that he almost missed it, skidding to a halt at the sound of a familiar voice coming from within one of the cells that lay still intact.

'Jak? Jak is that you?'

He did not let the relief come yet, he would feel nothing but need until he could see her again, touch her, feel her. Levelling his rifle once more he called to her, 'Stand back from the door.' Daxter leapt from his shoulder as he cocked his rifle, knowing that what was about to happen was not for him to witness. Two shots was all it took to melt the lock and once again the soles of Jak's boots hissed as the molten metal disintegrated beneath them. Even as it swung open leaving a trail of sparks in its wake his rifle clattered to the floor and he burst into the cell his eyes immediately finding her as she launched herself to meet him. And then she was in his arms and he almost sobbed with relief. She was okay, her eyes just as bright and lively as ever, her face un-bruised and un-scarred by her ordeal, only small rents in her overalls showing that she had suffered at all.

He swung her around as they met, the sheer energy granted him by her safety meaning that her small frame weighed nothing in his arms as they wrapped around her and pulled her close. Her own were flung about his neck as her cheeks fell against his, her soft, emerald hair brushing across his face, her lilac perfume filling his nostrils as for a moment his universe shrank to her. She stayed in his arms as her momentum landed her on her feet once more, letting him hold her close once more. His arms wrapped around her shoulders, one hand rising to tangle in her hair before one of her small fists suddenly beat against his chest, emotion glittering in her gaze as she stared up at him, a smile flitting across her lips though her tone held anger.

'What took you so long! You said in the note you'd be back in a day!' He smiled down at her, pressing a small kiss to her cheek and she smiled back, tears of relief shining in her eyes. A moment more of their shared gaze and she pulled him down to claim a long, passionate kiss from him before she embraced him once more. He spoke in a low tone as one of his hands stroked her hair, as much for his own comfort as for hers.

'Keira, no matter what. I will always come back to you. Always.'

Her head rose until their eyes met once more, 'You damn well better Jak Marr.' They shared a smile before he leaned down and claimed her lips once more, pressing his own almost feverishly against hers, the fact that they were reunited still seeming vaguely distant as though he could not quite believe it yet. As their kiss finished she smiled up into his face, one hand rising to trace his features, deft fingers running across his lips before she leant her head down on his chest again. He smiled and pressed another kiss into her crown of emerald hair, surrounding her with his embrace. Never again would he let harm touch her for his sake.

In the distance, echoing up from the lower levels explosions and the rising chatter of gunfire reminded him that Michaels was still out there and as long as he lived he would pose a threat to him and to her. Reluctantly he lifted her chin from his chest, bringing her eyes up to meet his. 'Keira it's not over yet.' Her arms tightened around him, as though she knew what he would say next. 'I've got to go and find Michaels, I have to make sure he can never do anything like this ever again.'

She nodded, acquiescing as she stepped back from him a little, laying one of her hands on his arm, 'Be careful Jak.'

Cupping her cheek for a moment his gaze found Daxter in the doorway, Sig towering over the ottsel. 'Sig, get her out of the palace. Is there any fighting around the stadium?'

The mercenary shook his head, 'Nope, the city's been mostly quite for a couple days now.'

'Okay, take her back to her house and keep her safe until all this is over.'

Narrowing his eyes Sig took a step forward, 'You're going after Michaels? How you plan on doing that, from what I can hear on the com he's pulled back almost two hundred elite to the control room sector, the place is locked down tighter than the metalhead nest ever was.'

Jak smirked as Sig passed him his rifle, cocking it smoothly as Daxter mounted his shoulder. 'You remember who broke into the metalhead nest don't you Sig?'

Shrugging as a smile crossed his face he placed an arm around Keira's narrow shoulders. 'Okay, good luck my man. And don't worry, I'll take good care of her while you're gone.'

Breaking away from Sig for a moment Keira pressed a quick kiss to Jak's cheek. 'For luck.' She said with a smile.

A final nod and smile to her and he was gone from the cell, breaking away from the wastelanders with Daxter on his shoulder, once more becoming the hunter as the softness that had appeared on his face in Keira's presence vanished. As he leapt up and tore away an air-duct cover he disappeared into the hidden ways of the palace, travelling swiftly toward his target. On his shoulder Daxter nervously wrung his paws.

'Uh Jak, while I appreciate that you're good and able to take care of many, many Elite he did say that there were two hundred there. Not even you could handle that many!'

Even as he spoke Jak's boot tore another duct cover free and he dropped down into a hall and straight in front of three Elite rushing toward the fighting. For a moment they froze, surprise giving him a split second of freedom. It was all he needed, darting forward his hand clamped over the helmet of the one in the Elite, plucking him from his feet and propelling him effortlessly into the one behind. As the two went down in a tangle of limbs Jak brought his rifle around and blasted three shots into the third, ending him instantly. A fire-lance crackling with blue eco sought his ribs as the two on the floor recovered but his boot met it halfway his leg twisting strangely to guide it away from him and instead straight into the second Elite as he rose once more. Energy seared through him as Jak lowered his rifle and fired a single shot at the last and as he went limp his fire-lance clattered to the ground and the second followed him to the floor once more, twitches running through him as the energy fried his neural pathways.

Daxter's mouth closed around the final syllable of his sentence and he stared quietly at the three for a moment. Looking at how easily Jak had simply overpowered the three he recognised the strength in him and the hardness in his eyes. He looked thoughtful for a moment before Jak took off at a run once more. 'Ah, so this means…'

Jak smirked, holstering his rifle as he rolled his shoulders, something seeming to build within him as he spoke and the corridor to the control room hove into view. 'Yeah, the white eco's worn off, Dark Jak's back.'

As he spoke Daxter felt a shiver travel up his spine and recognised the sensation, recognised the shift in Jak's stride, the subtle changes in his body that spoke of the coming transformation. His boots began to pound the hallway faster and faster as he accelerated, his lips curling back into a snarl as his rifle was cast aside. His eyes seemed to roll back into his head but rather than showing white suddenly instead becoming a malevolent black that sucked the light from his face. The air around them coalesced before some invisible force, Daxter screwing his eyes shut against the space warping effect that it had.

The taste of power became crisp and cold in the air as time froze for a moment and then he heard and felt the inhuman roar from his companion as it rumbled through him. It was the signal for him to leave or be caught in the coming hurricane. Leaping from the shoulder he rolled as he hit the ground, coming up just in time to watch as Jak leapt into the hall and his continuing roar echoed off the metal walls, filling the corridors with the sound of his coming. Black lightning trailed behind him as his skin became a sickly, pale hide his fingernails lengthening and darkening to deadly claws as his teeth suddenly showed stark white against a black maw. It was Jak that leapt but it was Dark Jak that landed in the corridor and rounded to face the Elite.

The hall was typical of all those in the palace, the walls only recently stripped bare of Praxis insignia and as yet undecorated but for the occasional scar of an old battle. Wide and tall it easily bore room enough for six or seven men to stand abreast, the arched ceiling holding ancient chandeliers that pulsed with the flow of eco through them, giving light to the barricades that had been erected between him and his target. They had been built into the walls and floor, massive, thick panels of metal swinging up and out to form supposedly impenetrable bulkheads, firing slots crowded with Elite, their golden armour easily visible as they levelled their firing lances at him. None fired as he stood almost fifty paces from the first barrier, his power tracing lightning across the walls and floor, wherever it passed glowing a dull red for a moment as his rage fuelled the transformation.

Daxter almost felt sorry for the Elite, none of them would live, he knew that later, in private Jak too would grieve for all the death that he was about to deal but at this moment Jak was gone. He had surrendered himself to the beast inside and would not return until the beast had tasted blood, Michael's blood. A dark tongue traced his fangs for a moment as inhumanely powerful muscles flexed, his claws curling and uncurling slowly as though in anticipation. Then suddenly Dark Jak was moving.

Dark lighting unfurled behind him in a searing cape that streamed from his white skin as in a moment he crossed the distance to the first barrier, moving too fast even for the Elite to react. His fist punctured the bulkhead as though it were paper the metal screaming with a high pitched whine as it was torn, his claws sinking into the throat of the Elite unfortunate enough to be the closest. Black lightning blossomed from the arm that had struck the blow and those nearest screamed as a hole was instantly melted through the barricade, molten metal running like water along the floor, anyone caught by it dying a painful death as they collapsed into it's fiery embrace.

The rest were like lambs to the slaughter as Dark Jak burst through the hole, running through the liquid steel as though it were a part of his power. The glowing, hissing fluid gathered around him, carried on the back of his lightning and striking down the elite as he flung out his arms and encompassed them in a storm of power. Screams rang through the halls as it burrowed through their armour, what dropped to the floor simply husks, devoid of any spark of life. They fell back in disarray, some pounding on the doors of the control room in a desperate bid to get as far away from their attacker as possible.

The automated defences on the ceiling sought him out, twin gatling cannons dropping from hidden panels to rake him with fire, glittering beams of eco sending up such a storm of debris and steam as they hissed into the pools of molten metal. As Dark Jak hurled up his arms and a crackling shield of dark eco sprang up to protect him the Elite abandoned the floor to flood into firing balconies and pillboxes as they sprang out of the walls. Rallying against him they broke the stand off with the gatling guns, grenades spiralling toward him as fire-lances began to blaze against his shield. The grenades detonated and bathed him in fire, spattering the walls with gobbets of rapidly cooling metal. As the fire receded it seemed for a moment as though the Elite had won, Dark Jak's form battered against the barricade, his head lolling limply to one side. One Elite stepped tentatively forward, descending from a ledge to take the first step onto the skin of once again solid metal as behind him others followed his example.

Dark Jak remained still, apparently lifeless until the Elite was only a few paces from him. As he brought his fire-lance down to prod the recumbent form the head snapped up, the eyes suddenly glowing with power once more as his mouth opened in a chaotic laugh. The Elite recoiled, fumbling to bring his weapon to bear as muscles coiled with power beneath Dark Jak's skin. His laughter rose and dark lightning seared from his hands once more, disappearing into the ground only to erupt beneath the Elite's feet, once more carrying with it both hissing, searing liquid and glowing, white-hot slivers of shrapnel. Those who had approached him were gone in an instant, no trace save ash left in the wake of his power as the lightning coiled back on itself, surrounding him in a whirlwind of power, the sheer heat and intensity of it driving back the Elite from their firing positions.

His roar shook the very walls as he thrust an arm forward and in obedience an arm of the whirlwind descended upon a balcony, sweeping it clean as Elite danced their deaths upon spears of energy. He leapt and his power curled around his arms as a clawed fist snatched at each of the gatling cannons, their shots pattering uselessly off his impenetrable hide. Tearing both from their bearings the ammunition detonated in his hands and covered him in flame once more. But again this was swept up into the currents of his power, great, boiling arms of equal parts white metal and dark lightning scouring the hall clean.

Had all two hundred been there to oppose him then perhaps they would have been enough to bring him down as he dove into hand to hand combat, his claws slicing effortlessly through armour and flesh alike. But Michaels had spread the two hundred out around the sector, unknowing of Jak's knowledge of the palaces hidden ways and only fifty or so stood in his way. As these died beneath his claws the last thing most of them heard was Michael's ranting voice on the com system ordering all Elite to converge on the control room.

The last of the Elite slammed against the control room doors with a sound like a rotten fruit, sliding to the ground and into the slew of blood and cooling steel that covered the floor. Dark Jak's footsteps echoed loudly in the silence that followed as he walked calmly up to them, his chest rising and falling as he panted with the effort of what he had just done and the fury that still burned bright within him. He lay a clawed hand against the huge, ancient double doors, seeming to admire the intricate engraving and patterns that the metal was woven into. Then for a moment his entire frame tensed before his fist slammed into the pattern with the force of a tank shell. The patterning buckled and broke as the force ran through the door. Shattered pieces of engraving raining down to land with a hiss in the still cooling puddles of molten metal. But the doors themselves held firm.

An inhuman hiss blasted from between Dark Jak's feral teeth as he clenched them pulling back his hand to form it into a knife edge. Dark lightning coiled around his frame once more, gathering to form a hissing, living blade in his hands before he spread his claws and thrust them once more at the door. This time, when they met the door they once more found thick, unyielding armour that refused to buckle before their sheer force but now dark lightning disappeared into the metal where his claws did not as it streamed from his body, the dark power seeming to dissipate harmlessly at first. But as he continued to push his claws against the doors and the lightning continued to pour from his body the spot beneath his hand began to glow a dull red and his claws sank in by a fraction of a centimetre. A moment more and the glow brightened and his claws sank deeper, a low, sibilant sound rising as vapour began to gather around him.

From inside panicked shouts reached his sensitive ears and his snarl turned into a smirk, the look enough to send a shiver down the spine of any watcher. Beneath his hand the metal began to glow yellow and his fingers followed his claws into the half-metre thick door, great globules of molten steel dripping down to the floor once more. An ever widening circle of red surrounded his hand, the centre of yellow widening in its wake until white began to follow, his arm sinking in up to his elbow as he roared once more. The vibrations of the power emanating from him sent waves of force through the liquid metal as it pooled at his feet, cascading from his arm as dark lightning continued to stream from his skin.

On the other side the Elite backed away from the door as a spot of red appeared, growing rapidly brighter, red turning to yellow as it expanded, a low hiss beginning to fill the room. The heat in the room began to grow more and more stifling as the first drops of glowing metal began to fall away, a puddle slowly forming that grew steadily outward, a harbinger of what lay upon the other side. The technicians looked at each other with trepidation, many abandoning their posts to flee to the opposite side of the room. More and more joined them as the puddle reached an abandoned welding torch that had been used to make repairs, it detonated as the heat cracked open it's gas tanks, flames engulfing the Elite that had abandoned discretion for foolhardy valour. Their armour saved them from death but the blossom of flame and noise had called the Elite's eyes away from the door, as they turned back it was to find that the circle of glowing metal had disintegrated and Dark Jak stared back at them with a sadistic grin.

Michaels watched as he launched himself through the door, his hunched over stride dragging his claws through the puddle that he had created and meaning that when his claws rose into combat each of them trailed a whip of crackling dark energy and searing gold. Screaming into his com he sent the Elite piling against him, the cocktail of drugs in their system meaning that they ignored the uselessness of such a feat, each sweep of his claws sending those deadly streams scything through them, dozens dying in seconds. Spinning wildly he snatched one of his generals by the collar, his eyes bearing the spark of madness as he snatched the collar of the man's armour.

'Do something you fool! Kill that peasant!' Behind him Dark Jak left the melee, abandoning the cattle to seek his true target. He leapt from the centre of the battle, the unnatural strength in him sending him soaring upward as the crackling energy that surrounded him left his arms to stream behind him, swirling as it altered the forces of nature to suit his needs. He hit the wall and his claws sank into the metal, providing him purchase as he twisted sinuously to leap once more, this time finding purchase against the central control column. It took an instant for him to reach the top of the column, bounding from side to side with impossible agility. With his claws sunk into the wall of the control room he twisted and caught sight of his quarry beneath him, Michael's ranting insanely as he brandished a pistol.

The general made no reply to Michaels as he caught sight o the apparition that watched the scene from above and in the grip of madness Michaels raised the pistol and without a trace of emotion blasted a shot into the man's face. It was the last thing he ever did. On the wall dark lightning coiled around Dark Jak's form, the very air seeming to twist and contort for a moment before he launched himself skyward once more. Sailing almost gracefully through the air he threw his arms out wide and the power that had gathered around him obeyed, lightning was flung out, granting him wings of searing energy as the great streams of glowing shrapnel and hissing liquid soared skyward to join the darkness. As Michaels span the great wings beat the air with a sound like the crack of thunder, carrying Dark Jak above the column, his eyes locked upon his prey.

Time and gravity seemed to cease as in the air he rose one hand and the wings swept upward in obedience, great, devilish shadows cast across everything by the heat and light borne with them. For a moment that stretched into eternity his eyes met Michaels gaze far below, darkness against madness, those great wings hovering above. Then his hand was flung down and the wings descended to with all the unstoppable power of a mountain slide. Michael roared his defiance as they fell upon him, his megalomania meaning that even now he refused to recognise defeat. It mattered not as the cascade of energy smashed into the column head, Dark Jak driving it downward as he threw himself in it's wake, forcing more and more of his power into it.

It detonated with a burst of sound of concussion, a shockwave sweeping aside the generals, the technology, all of it disintegrating as it was simply smashed aside. Michaels, caught in the centre of all of this power had nowhere to go but straight down, his body was smashed into the ground, shattered in an instant as the entire column buckled and bent beneath the tremendous force. Time caught up and debris rained down onto those below, the scoured column plateau echoing with the panicked screams of technicians and Elite alike as the instant loss of their leaders overrode their programmed madness and drove fear into them.

At the peak Dark Jak was crouched upon one knee, his clawed right hand lying flat against the floor, the buckled and twisted metal radiating out all around. His feral teeth were clenched as his breath blasted out in heaving puffs of steam. His body quivered with the effort of what he had just done and slowly a second transformation took hold of him. His muscles, which had knotted and changed into inhuman shapes flowed back into place beneath his skin, slimming him down as his skin lost it's pale, deathly hue. His claws retracted, his deadly hands undergoing the same transformation as his muscles, bones reshaping and aligning into natural formation. The transformation reached his face and the clenched fangs twisted and changed into normality, his dark eyes loosing their endless, light-sucking depths and returning to their usual blue intensity. As the last of the deathly white fled from his locks and left them their usual green streaked blonde he was once again himself, standing slowly as he rolled his shoulders and slowly worked out of his body the alien feelings that remained from his transformation.

Below him silence filled the chamber as the last of the bystanders fled and he strode forward to stand over Michael's body. He stared down at the man that had caused so much pain, that had called back a monster from the grave, that had kidnapped, nearly killed Keira. A tight smile of satisfaction crossed his face, no joy in his eyes except the acknowledgement that an evil was gone from the world. He reserved his joy for when Keira was in his arms once more as he turned away, no wish in him to gloat over the broken body of his enemy.

For a man of his agility descending the column was an easy task, the torn and crumpled metal offering ample holds for his deft limbs. On the floor he picked his way between puddles of cooling metal, walking through the doors that had been opened by those that fled. He arrived at the barricade to find Torn leaning against it, watching as he carefully moved between the swathes of dead elite. The veteran's face showed the evidence of battle, sweat and dust mixing into a grimy mask, his armour showing fresh burns and scars. As Jak approached Torn tossed him his rifle, having reclaimed it from the halls outside. But as Jak moved to pass the veteran he held out an arm to block his path.

'Most of the rest of the palace is ours, all that's left is mopping up a few last areas. The fuzzball said you wanted first dibs on Michaels, did you get him?' Jak nodded silently, a strange peace having settled over him now that the fighting was done. 'What about his generals?'

Again he nodded, 'Them too.' He made as though to continue his stride but Torn's hand on his shoulder stopped him.

'Where are you going? Ashelin needs you to address the people, they need a hero for her to use as a rallying point until she can restore control properly.'

Jak's hand rose and gently pushed his away, a slightly tired note in his reply. 'Then you be a hero. You led the main attack on the palace, you broke the Elite lines, you're the one the troops will say did it. I don't want glory, you can have it if it'll make things easier.' Torn made no move to stop him as he ducked back through the hole in the barricade, the edges solidified into strange, surreal forms. As he holstered his rifle Torn called to him once more.

'Then where are you going?'

Jak sighed, his shoulders relaxing as he allowed himself to take in a deep breath. Slowly a smile spread across his face, 'I'm going home.'

A.N. The battle is won and Jak stands victorious. He has fought against monster and man and triumphed over both and now seeks his just reward. I tried to make this chapter into a suitable conclusion to the build up that has occurred in the previous chapters and hope that you feel it lived up to your expectations, as always all reviews will be welcomed so please tell me what you thought. The next chapter will be an epilogue of sorts and be the final installment of Destiny's Choice. As promised at the start of the chapter, alongside it I will also post a teaser of my next work "Haven's Hero", I hope to see you all again there.

Go with God

The Visionary