Okay, my hands are tired of typing, so I'll be brief. Me know long wait. Me sorry. Not many reviewers. Me sad. Stop writing for while. Then start again. Now long chapter.

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All Hell was breaking loose around me.

Light flashed, explosions sounded, and the ground trembled in fear. It was a complete sensory rape that I was virtually helpless to defend myself from. Monstrous winds buffeted me and lightning tore into me in the endlessly long moments before I was able to react and defend myself.

With a burst of effort, I managed to construct a kind of rudimentary mental shield that protected me from the majority of Knives' attacks—for the time being, that was. Out of the corner of my eye I could see Wosh propping himself up on one elbow, one eye squinched shut in pain and concentration, and indeed a good portion of Knives' attacks fizzled out before they were even near to reaching me.

But that momentary lack of concentration weakened my barrier, and one of Knives' attacks tore through it, hitting me in the left shoulder and knocking me backwards with a loud explosion and the sound of sizzling flesh.

Stars burst before my eyes as my head cracked loudly against the wall of the building behind me and I struggled to remain conscious.

"Get up!"

A voice in my head. Yelling, nagging. Meryl?

Get UP, Tongari!

Wolfwood? No, he was dead.

How many times do I have to save your lazy ass, anyway? What's the use? You never listen to anything I have to say anyway.

I know your Cross Punisher isn't right under my hand this time, I thought absently.

No duh, Broomstick-for-Brains, but there's a much more valuable weapon at your disposal this time!

What? But you know I don't have any bullets in my arm gun—

Not that, idiot. My brother, obviously!

Your brother? Who's--?

"Get UP, Vash, you idiot!"

Wosh's voice brought me fully back to reality and I saw him pulling himself forward slightly on his elbow, teeth clenched in frustration and anger mingled with alarm. My gaze sluggishly shifted to where I could see Knives walking slowly toward me.

His laugh was low and mirthless. "Well, Vash, it seems I should've tried this method in the first place! It works much better than with all of those bothersome guns and Angel Arms."

I said nothing, merely glaring at him to the best of my ability though the world was still spinning dizzily around me.

Knives suddenly froze like a statue, his eyes staring straight ahead and not even a hair quivering. I started with astonishment, staring at him with apprehension until I realized who had caused the transformation.

"What do you see, Knives, when you turn that high-power perception of yours onto yourself?" Wosh's voice, steadily gaining strength from his anger, sounded behind my brother. "It's difficult, isn't it? Even for you, the almighty, the all-powerful, Knives. You don't want to. You're afraid of what you'll see. The emptiness. The undeniable fact that after Vash is dead, you will be alone. There will be no one to talk with, even to argue with, until every year of your long life is spent. Sure, your sisters will be freed from their prisons, but you won't be able to relate to them. You and Vash were the ones who were different. Special.

"And because of the simple fact that you refuse to see the truth, you plow stubbornly on towards a life of oblivion. You will struggle and twist and consume everything there is, searching for some meaning or comfort, until there is nothing left but you. And then, like a starving snake who desperately consumes its tail to live, you will devour yourself until the last bit of life slips out of you and you die, cold and very, very alone. Open your eyes, Knives, and you will see that I speak the truth."

At that moment, the energy that restrained Knives fizzled out and my brother spun on Wosh, trembling with fury and something else—fear.

"How dare you say such things to me?" He hissed. "I would crush you like a bug if I weren't worried you would stain my boots!"

Wosh matched his glare, his eyes cold and impassive like mirrors.

As I had apparently been forgotten, I slowly and laboriously stood up, gathering my strength for what would probably be my last stand, and humanity's last chance.

Knives and Wosh might've stayed there forever, neither one so much as twitching, if something hadn't happened that made me feel like someone had dropped a large, cold rock into my stomach.

Almost simultaneously, Meryl and Milly stepped from the shadows of two separate side streets which converged where our battle was presently taking place. Meryl looked pale, but her lips were pressed together in a resolute line, and Milly looked shocked and partially curious. As usual, she was either completely oblivious of how dire the situation was, or was wearing her usual mask to conceal her seldom-revealed perception.

In my mind, I churned out a thousand curses in half as many milliseconds and inwardly sighed. It was not like I'd ever been able to keep them away before.

Knives caught sight of them out of the corner of his eye and his head jerked around. Wosh allowed a smug look of accomplishment to flicker across his face for a moment before it regained its serious expression and turned to tackle the next problem that'd been thrown into the situation.

"Meryl and Milly, the Insurance Girls, I presume." Knives smirked and I felt my heart skip several beats. "I've never had the pleasure of formally meeting either of you in person," he flashed a look at me, "while conscious."

He walked unhurriedly over to Meryl, fully aware that I was barely capable of standing, let alone walking.

"Meryl Stryfe, eh?" He traced a finger along her cheek while Meryl's lip trembled in what was probably restrained anger, fear, or both. "Vash's talked about you so much over these past few weeks of—how shall I put it?—'brotherly bonding' we've been having."

I was practically vibrating with fury, just as much so directed at myself as at Knives for my inability to do anything.

Knives continued. "Still, rather pretty for a spider. Maybe when I destroy humanity, I'll save you for last." He strolled casually over to Milly, regarding her with the same mockingly critical look he had used on Meryl, as if appraising a racing thomas.

"And I suppose this is the other one, Milly Thomson." His gaze slid discretely over to Wosh, then back to Milly again. He smiled a small, knowing smile. "I've heard much about you through the mind of one of my former servants. Nicholas D. Wolfwood. I believe you knew him, didn't you?"

"You talk about Nicholas that way and you'll be sorry, Mr. Knives!" Milly cried, eyes shimmering with unshed tears.

"Oooh! I'll be sorry, will I? Then I suppose I'll move away from that topic. Let's go to another one. How about this; I'll give one of you two the privilege of being the first person to witness my newest waste removal campaign. It's really a great honor."

"Knives, don't do this!" I growled. "Didn't you listen to anything Wosh said?"

"Shut UP, Vash!" Knives shouted. He regained compose after a moment "So whom will it be, the lovely Meryl or the naïve Milly?" He seemed to consider them for a moment as the stood before him, trying their best to retain their dignity to the end. Knives tapped his index finger slowly on his lips. Meryl gazed at me, her entreaty clear in her eyes.

I stared longingly back at her, my soul slowly being torn to shreds within me.

"Looking at my brother for help?" Knives asked, amused. "It's quite useless. He's completely incapable of walking, let alone defending you from me. Don't worry yourself for the moment, though, I've decided that your friend will be honored first."

Milly bit back a sob and tried to face death with the same fearlessness that she usually did, though this long waiting was taking its toll.

Knives slowly raised his hand into the air as he gathered a ball of negative energy into it. It was completely unnecessary since he could kill with a thought if he wanted to, but he was drawing out the tension. Torturing them. My mind generated images of me torturing Knives.

I summoned up all of the remaining energy in my body. Energy which included my life force, and prepared for one final assault that had a miniscule chance of at least knocking Knives out, if not killing him.

However, just as his hand was racing down for the killing blow, and just as I was about to send my energy on a suicide mission to take down my brother, and just as Milly let out a hopeless, fear-filled scream,

Knives stopped.

I stopped.

The scream stopped.

And it seems the entire world hushed.

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*Gasp* What's stopping Knives from killing Milly? Why oh why would Vash kill himself? And when exactly am I going to finish this story? All this and more in: THE NEXT CHAPTER!!!