By Final Fantasy GX
Disclaimer: I do not own Cyberchase. It belongs to PBS Kids, among others.
Summary: Will the returned Crimson Blade, altered but still as evil as ever, achieve his ultimate goal? Who will become tangled in his dark designs? And, most of all, who will survive his vicious onslaught? New allies, new threats, and old enemies combine to make the Cybersquad's desperate fight against Crimson harder than ever…
Rating: PG-13 (minimal gore, death, violence)
Author's Note/s: Sorry this chapter is so belated. I haven't gotten around to posting it, is all; it was written quite a while ago.
Re-edit Notes: Yay! It's fluff time! XD The fluff scene in here is fully edited, sounds much better.
Chapter 10: "I Amar Prestar Aen…"As Matt felt Blade's hot breath on his neck and cringed, waiting for the painful moment when his throat would be torn open, he saw a figure stride up next to him and deliver a powerful kick to the creature's stomach, practically roaring words in another language that was unfamiliar to nearly all present.
"Ash nazg durbatulúk! Ash nazg gimbatul! Ash nazg thrakatulûk agh burzum-ishi krimpatul!"
Almost immediately, the ground began to shake violently, and all citizens who had remained went completely mad at these words, running away as fast as their feet would take them. It was almost as horrible to hear those words as it was to be in the presence of Crimson Blade, yet the Cybersquad managed to remain there, determined to see this through. Slider had recovered himself quickly. (For once, Jackie and Inez took no notice of him.) Within a few seconds, thankfully, the ground ceased its leaping.
Crimson Blade fell backwards with a pained noise, clutching the area with both hands. As he landed on his back in the grass – that withered upon his very touch – his eyes flared, and he jolted upright, glaring full-blast at his opposer, still wincing with the pain in his stomach.
"Let ME handle this, Crimson." Smirking in a way that he only could achieve, Hacker stepped forwards arrogantly, only to be rebuffed by the figure shooting him a poisonous glare.
Ignoring the green cyborg completely, Blade studied the figure's face intently, thankfully forgetting the Cybersquad. His face contorted with fury as he realised exactly who he was facing.
"You!"
A sad smile lit Scythe's face. "Me." He shifted his position slightly forwards. "Why has it come to this, Huor Melwasúl? All this pain, this suffering, for what?"
The creature let out a hissing shriek of pent-up rage. "No more… NO MORE! Rest assured, this time your farewell will be forever, brother!"
"You lost the right to call me brother long ago!"
With one last battle cry, Blade leaped forwards, as did Scythe, and the two engaged in battle.
The Cybersquad watched in horror as Digit flew out to try to separate the pair, but Blade's hand shot out and sent the cybird spinning backwards through the air. Thankfully, Digit managed to right himself midair, and he landed on the ground in front of his friends.
"Well, I tried," he grumbled, patting his head to make sure his hat was still there. Inez smiled down at him, but only for a moment; she immediately turned her attention back to the fight as a scream was heard from one of them.
It was Blade who had screeched in fury, for Scythe had feinted left and kicked his side – hard. As the creature stumbled backwards for a minute, she was surprised to see that he showed no sign that he had been hurt, let alone felt the pain. His face was even – as even as it could be, anyway – and he did not reach towards his side like any human would have done.
Then again, he isn't even human, she reminded herself, watching anxiously as Crimson recovered far faster than expected, and ducked a swing Scythe aimed for him. The limp he had had earlier was no longer noticeable in the heat of battle; he came up from the half-crouched position and slammed a flat hand straight into the teenager's armour-covered chest with nearly all his strength.
In a split second, Inez saw Scythe, in turn, stumble backwards and fall forwards onto his knees, winded. The black-haired boy put a hand to his chest and drew in ragged breaths, glaring up at the murderous creature with the most poisonous of gazes.
Blade, wanting to finish him off while he was in a weakened state, sprang forwards to deliver a fatal blow when Scythe suddenly narrowed his eyes at a point somewhere past the creature, and a rock flew up to strike Crimson right in the back of the head.
Not even Blade had the self-control to stifle the howl he gave in surprise; he clutched the back of his head with two hands and winced. By this time, Scythe had recovered himself and leapt up, the white scars on his bare arms standing out more than ever as he clenched his fists and readied himself for the next onslaught.
It never came.
Hacker decided that the fight had gone on long enough; though he had been puzzled at the sudden appearance of this new teenager at first, he now knew that this person, whoever he was, was an ally of the Cybersquad – and therefore an enemy of his. However, it seemed that Scythe was more than he seemed, and the green cyborg's plan was to draw Crimson back and arrange themselves before commencing in battle again.
"Delete, Buzz," he snapped at his pair of henchmen, who had been watching the battle with awe, "Retrieve him."
Though they were as afraid of Blade as anyone else, Delete and Buzz ran out and grabbed Blade's arms, dragging him back to the Grim Wreaker. Surprised, Scythe stared as Crimson hissed and bucked in the two robots' arms, not able to fight both of them off, as the fight had weakened him.
"Make no mistake," he screamed, just before they had practically carried him inside. "You will get what you deserve! I will make sure you die slowly and painfully at my hands, you will -"
His voice was cut off as the door slammed behind Hacker, and the Wreaker lifted off and flew away at top speed, hull gleaming dull red in the light of the setting sun.
Jackie was checking to see if Slider was all right, after his almost-strangling. "I'm okay, Jackie," he said quietly, and, shrugging his pack back onto his shoulders, he smiled. "I have to go. Perhaps I'll see you around…" Then, nodding at her respectfully, the teenager walked off, disappeared into the horizon.
Shaking her head, the African-American watched him go, knowing that if she tried to convince him to stay, he would refuse. He had to look for his father, after all.
Meanwhile, Matt - after watching the ship disappear - ran over to Scythe and asked, concerned, "Are… are you okay?"
The teenager was still standing where he and Blade had been fighting, tensed, staring up into the sky, a distant expression on his face; when Matt spoke to him, however, his eyes flared suddenly, and he whirled to face the boy. For a moment, his wild eyes searched Matt's face without recognising him, then he shuddered, slumped, closed his eyes wearily.
"I apologise," he said softly, tiredly. "I forgot myself for a moment…"
"It's all right," Matt responded, looking even more concerned as Scythe opened his eyes, ran a hand through his black hair, and sighed; his eyes seemed faded, did not possess the same piercing quality as before. "Just as long as you're all right. Are you hurt?"
"No," Scythe said, even quieter than before. "Just tired…" He closed his eyes again, swayed a little on his feet. "Battles take a lot out of me…"
"Judging from that, it's no wonder," Inez said as she came to stand next to him. "You did a great job," she added.
Scythe did not reply; when he opened his eyes again, they were as dark as the sky above them. "Come," he said emotionlessly, turning in the direction of the cybercoupe. "Let us leave."
As they reached the coupe, Matt heard a soft sigh, coming from the black figure that walked silently beside him. He dared a glance at Scythe, but received no hint on what the teenager was thinking.
Scythe's expression was as blank and as cold as the surface of the cybercoupe.
-
It was hours later. Control Central was silent, the kind of silence that exists only in the pure darkness of the utter night, when there is no sound, all peace.
Jackie, Matt and Inez had decided not to go back to Earth, in case Crimson Blade and Hacker tried to attack another cybersite, and so the Cybersquad was now sleeping in Dr Marbles' workshop. Motherboard was in sleep mode, and even Dr Marbles himself had gone to bed.
Inez, lying awake in her spot on the floor, could hear only the sound of her companions' breathing as they slept. She, herself, had slept for a few hours, but she had been awoken by a nightmare. The girl had witnessed each of her friends' gruesome deaths, one by one, by Crimson's hands… even Scythe. It had been terrifying beyond belief; Inez shivered and sat up, drawing her arms around her knees as she stared around the room, trying to rid her thoughts of the images that had haunted her dreams.
Once the Hispanic girl's eyes had adjusted to the darkness, she noticed that Scythe, who had been sitting in the corner, eyes closed, had disappeared. He had probably gone out to the main room; standing up carefully, trying to avoid tripping over Digit, Inez made her way to the doorway of the workshop.
A voice behind the girl made her jump violently, startled.
"What're you doing?" Jackie asked sleepily, from her position on the ground. Putting a hand to her chest, trying to slow her breathing down, Inez sighed with relief and said, "I'm just going out for a walk, Jax. You can go back to sleep; I won't be long."
The African-American nodded, yawning, and lay down again. Heart still beating rather fast, Inez walked out into the hallway, heading for Motherboard's main control room.
I'd better not go walking straight in if he happens to be there, she thought to herself. He might want some time to himself, to think, after that fight today. I'll just check, and if he is, I'll go back to the workshop.
Peering around the doorway, Inez at first saw nothing, until she saw a figure leaning against the controls, staring down at something in its hands. Because she had fairly good night vision, she could tell it was Scythe, helped by the faint light that came from the ceiling. Why isn't he resting, after that battle? she wondered.
She was about to turn around and head back when his voice reached her ears in a softly spoken whisper. Narrowing her eyes in an effort to see better, Inez glimpsed a small knife that Scythe held in his right hand, that he then lowered to his left arm. Drawing the knife down his arm in a careful, deliberate way, the teenager continued to speak the words softly.
""I amar prestar aen. Han mathon ne nen. Han mathon ne chae. A han nostron ned wilith." Another long cut was drawn in the same way; a thin stream of blood moved slowly down his arm, and a small drop of the crimson liquid plopped onto the floor.
Scythe looked up sharply as a quiet voice came from the doorway.
"Why are you doing that?"
Inez walked slowly out of the shadows, regarding him calmly, without shock or distress. What was she doing up at this time? More importantly, what was she doing here?
Looking down at his arm for some kind of inspiration, the teenager found that he could not find an answer to her question. He glanced up at her again, light grey eyes glittering behind his glasses, and half-smiled, bitterly.
"I… don't know…" It was the only reply he could give.
Even with this limited answer, she seemed to accept this, and understand. Without further comment, Inez came over and leaned on the controls next to him. He seemed to belong to the enfolding darkness; close, yet so far away.
"Is it because of some kind of mental pain?" Somehow, she had managed to fit what he was feeling in just two words. Mental pain.
"Yes…" He studied the blade of the small knife, a depressed, melancholy expression on his face, the same one she had seen him wear when she first saw him, alone with his two… whatever they were, below the Northern Frontier.
"Can I ask you why?" Inez was still looking at him; he didn't dare to look up again, lost in deep thought.
"I… I cannot tell you," Scythe finally responded quietly, knowing that he would never be able to put that into words. To give those events voice would somehow demean them, take away their terrible horror, their terrible beauty.
Again, Inez seemed to accept his response, and changed the subject, to his immense relief. Undoubtedly not particularly wanting to linger on those memories.
"What do you think is going to happen to us?" Inez asked softly, her mind full of questions, possessing no answers to them. Somehow, she knew that only he could give her those answers.
She saw his eyes flash with sudden emotion; he shifted his position slightly, as if the subject itself stirred him to action. "I do not know what fate lies before us. No one knows their destiny. I suspect only one thing: our destiny will be revealed to us when the sun sets its last. And, although I detest admitting it, little hope remains in my heart."
"How can you know that?"
"I don't. I merely suspect."
Inez was silent for another few moments, then, finding another question had come to her, said, "You say you are evil… yet you are fighting for us. Your reasons for that… I can't guess…"
"I'm fighting for good because the evil present in this world will cause death, destruction, horror. I have witnessed, and, I admit, caused all three of those before, but now I cannot allow that to happen in this form. Some may call me a lesser of two evils, but I do care about what happens here. I live here, after all." Sighing deeply, Scythe placed the knife back into its sheath and clasped it almost protectively in his hand.
There was a small silence before he picked up the arm-guard that lay on the controls behind them and fit it on, almost as if trying to cover the cuts he had made. She could see that the blood had already dried on his arm, before it disappeared from view. The grim sight seemed to inspire her next words.
"There is hope in the world, Scythe. I have already told you this once. I will continue telling you."
The gleam in his eyes flared again with passion as he stared at her, almost fixedly; his voice rose in volume as he spoke in a sudden tirade:
"What hope will there be, when Morgoth Bauglir, He Who Arises In Might, returns to the Earth to claim what is his? When the sky forever darkens and blackness rules the world? When the foolishness of Men causes them to be destroyed by the Dark Lord? WHAT THEN!"
Gloved hands clenched tightly on the knife he held, Scythe suddenly took a shuddering breath, seemed to calm down before continuing softly, brokenly, light grey eyes still fixed on hers:
"No, no… there is no hope. Hope has failed us. Despair is all that is left." Scythe then lowered his gaze to the floor, and was still, merging back into the darkness from whence he came. The grey eyes faded into the shadows, their intensity dimmed.
"Despair is only a small part of this world. Hope has not failed us. It will never fail us… " Inez's voice spoke quietly, serenely. "I… only wish you could see that…"
He heard the rustle of small movement, thought nothing of it; as he lifted his head reluctantly, Scythe saw that Inez had, in fact, moved closer. Taking his black-clothed hand, she uncurled his fingers from the knife without shifting her gaze from his face, and lifted it from his palm.
"Perhaps this is what blinds you," she said, and placed it on the control panel. Then she let go of his hand, and slowly, he let it return to his side.
There was another stretch of silence, in which they just stared at each other wordlessly. Before he could say anything else, however, Inez had moved even closer, and her mouth was suddenly on his. Reacting to this, despite his emotionless demeanour, Scythe was electrically aware of the soft lips touching his, the cool, brown eyes that looked at him calmly.
More than a little surprised - and showing it for once - he stared at the girl incredulously as Inez broke away and averted her face for a moment, trying to control the red tinge that had appeared on her cheeks.
At length, he swallowed. Found his voice. "What was that for?"
Inez shrugged, smiled, slightly nervously. "You needed convincing that not all is darkness and despair," she responded, in that same, quiet tone. Clearing her throat, she rapidly changed the subject again.
"Why aren't you resting? You look pretty exhausted."
Scythe smiled wearily, did not answer. He did not need to; she saw the answer in his eyes.
"You… can't?"
The teenager shook his head. "I cannot," he finally spoke, now able to use his voice properly, "because they won't let me…"
"Who won't let you?" Inez asked urgently, softly, suddenly concerned more than ever. "What won't let you?"
"Memories of things long past… nightmares of crimes I can't forget…" Scythe whispered, almost inaudibly, staring off into space, eyes as dark as the room itself. He seemed to go still, hardly breathing, as if lost in something that deeply troubled him.
"Scythe…" Inez placed a hand on his shoulder, in an attempt to break the trance the teenager had gone into. He did not respond, only continued to stare into the darkness, motionless, silent. "Scythe…" She shook his shoulder gently.
With this prompt, the dimmed eyes came to life once more; Scythe sighed, let his head fall forwards onto his chest. After a few moments, in which Inez looked worriedly at him, he raised it, looked straight at her with that returned piercing gaze. "I'm sorry, Inez. I could not help but remember…" He stopped. "It won't happen again."
"It's okay, Scythe," Inez spoke quietly. "Think nothing of it."
Again, a small silence, until the Hispanic girl spoke again. Scythe seemed to have overcome his weariness for the moment; he gazed at her more alertly, waiting for her next statement.
"I - I'm a little afraid about our next encounter with… with that creature," Inez finally admitted. "He is unusually powerful…"
"I apologise for this, but you have good reason to fear him," Scythe replied darkly. "Defeating him will not be an easy task."
"Yes, I know… our next encounter will probably be our last meeting, our final battle. I realise that now. There will never be another chance. He would not be so foolish as to give us another opportunity, unless he has changed much over the years."
"If we allow his evil to spread, it will infect Cyberspace like a disease… but - " Scythe shrugged, his eyes on her, " – either way, we will face him sometime…" Reaching out, he picked up his knife, grasped it firmly. Inez did not try to stop the teenager, only stared at him with a slightly saddened look.
"I had better get some sleep," she said softly, and, giving him a last unhappy glance, left the control room. She could feel his grey eyes watching her steadily, emotionlessly. The mask had returned.
-
"It could have been settled right there!" Crimson Blade screamed at Hacker in a fury. Even many hours after the battle with Scythe – it was early morning – the creature was still raging about it. "I could have killed them all!"
"I disagree with that one," the green cyborg snorted. "That boy, whoever he was, looked like he could have beaten you."
"Nothing can beat me," Blade replied, annoyed. "My strength is too great. Besides, Scythe is only a mere mortal. I, however, am quite the opposite." He huffed in irritation, folded his mismatched arms.
"My dear Blade, if it wasn't for me you would have been soundly defeated out there. That friend of those meddling Earth kiddies is good. Better than good."
"I will not believe it," Crimson responded, and emitted a small sound of frustration as he glared out the window at the growing light.
"You know it's true," Hacker said smugly, and walked from the room in search of Buzz and Delete, hoping (in vain) that they might actually finish their job of ordering the computer files…
Blade continued to stare moodily out at the lightening landscape of the Northern Frontier, thoughts of the earlier battle invading any hope of peace, if he had wished it.
"I cannot be weak…" he murmured, now looking down at his hands as though they might suddenly become mortal flesh. "I was never meant to be weak… this body is supposed to be the ultimate killing machine… and now a boy, a teenage boy, almost defeats me in battle!"
Realisation dawned upon the creature almost immediately after he had spoken the last few words; he had admitted that he had almost been beaten. Then again, he almost defeated me before…
"No… no, this is not right," he said finally, folding his arms and listening to the distant sound of Hacker yelling at Buzz and Delete. "Why am I doomed to live like this? Why fight on? Why, indeed…" He fell silent, thinking.
"Stop it, Blade," Crimson suddenly said loudly to himself, breaking out of the stupor he had dug himself into. "That Earth-boy Matthew, as well as his ally Scythe, needs to be broken, both in spirit and body.
"And only I shall complete that task," he sighed, half-closing his scarlet eyes as he pondered the situation. "I can defeat them. I can murder them. I will break them.
"As for the other citizens of Cyberspace who caused me pain, I will set my thoughts of them aside until I have beaten the Cybersquad. Motherboard retains no importance to me… but what if I destroyed Dr Marbles, for all the help he has rendered the Cybersquad? Therefore that supercomputer would be helpless.
"Then would come the cyborg Hacker. He can intelligent at times, but also surprisingly stupid for one so evil. Yet even he would not miss the chance to take over Cyberspace through Motherboard's weakness. With Dr Marbles, the cyber bird Digit, and the Cybersquad gone, nothing would stop him. Cyberspace would forever be cloaked in shadow. All debts will be paid to the ones who deserve them, all revenge fulfilled."
For a time he stood there, eyes narrowed in concentration as he thought of all the possibilities that could come to pass.
"What if I lost? What if I… no, I dare not think of that. There is only one thing to do, to settle this score once and for all. I know I am strong enough… The time has come."
Walking over to the computer controls, Blade set his mismatched fingers on the keyboard panel and began to type.