FINAL DESTINATIONS

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: The second half of the Final Battle. I hope it's up to expectations.

–watches anxiously-

Chapter 13: The Final Battle: Part II

Crimson Blade's head shot up as he saw Inez halt in front of him. "What is this, mortal?" he hissed. "You know you cannot possibly defeat me!"

"No," Inez responded defiantly. "But I can take my own revenge on you, at least."

Stepping forwards calmly and confidently, Blade shoved her backwards, and the girl stumbled, but, regardless, managed to keep her feet.

"What about Hacker?" she demanded, in an attempt to buy time – but for what…? Crimson recognized the ploy, yet he still replied, if not to buy time for himself as well, but to cause more loathing and more fear.

"Why should I care about that dense, thick-headed, facile, irrational cretin of a cyborg? He matters nothing to me, if only to further my own means. And as for his two inept 'henchman' – of which I doubt I could give them credit - " he snorted, " – they do not even possess enough brains to give themselves a headache. They're practically dead from the neck up!" The creature paused, enjoying his tirade. "Wouldn't you know, all this insulting makes me feel quite good. But enough of that, now. I think - "

Blade suddenly choked on his own words, gagged loudly, and spun around to face the person who had, quite literally, stabbed him in the back. "You fool, cybird!" he forced out, feeling his back carefully. Apparently, while Crimson was talking, Digit had slipped around behind him, transformed his beak into a saw and used the tool to its full capacity, to be blunt.

The lavender hand came away, stained with blood. It was not, however, the type of blood from which the first part of his name called. Neither was it the thick, oily substance of a robot. His was a mix between the two: it had the deep black of robots' oil, yet had the thin density of human blood.

Shaking off the pain determinedly – he could not both himself with something that, in his mind, was so minor - Crimson grabbed Digit by the throat, who had been hovering uncertainly in front of him, not able to decide what to do, his beak traced with black blood. With a quick movement of his wrist, Blade snapped the cybird's neck and let the body fall next to Matt's.

The last thing Digit saw, through a dim red haze, were the crimson eyes, gleaming in absolute victory.

Inez gave a sob as she watched another of her friends fall to Crimson Blade's vicious attack, and as she saw the creature turn his flaming gaze in her direction, start towards her, the girl felt her soul shrivel. "I should have known all along," she said, in a broken whisper, "that there was no hope. There was never any hope for us. Scythe was right…"

The Hispanic girl glanced over to where Scythe was standing, by himself, his eyes on Digit's body, taking no notice of either her words or Crimson's. He wore a thoughtful expression, contemplative, even. Help me, she wanted to say. Can't you stop this torment?

No, she decided. If he could have helped, he would have before. Yes, he did fight better than us at R-Fair City, but he didn't defeat Crimson.

"Just kill me and be done with it," Inez said out loud, wearily, and stepped forwards to meet Blade. "I can't fight you any longer. I know, now, that it's no use." Halting right in front of the creature, she bowed her head, cheeks tear-stained and pale. "Do it."

"You make a wise choice, human girl," intoned Crimson Blade, and raised his metallic hand – wing – preparing to tear her flesh asunder. "For that, I will make your life end faster than those who are still dying, even now."

Inez gave a sorrowful look at Scythe, then lowered her head again. The metal fingers gleamed in the light of the stars, which by now had appeared in the sky.

The teenager strode forwards suddenly, an expression of loss on his face, not faint like the previous expressions, but one that pierced Crimson Blade like Digit's saw. The creature nodded respectfully, gave Scythe a grim smile.

And then he struck, the hard metal rending into the Hispanic girl's neck, tearing the skin asunder. Deep red blood flowed from Inez's throat, yet she made no acknowledgement she had been hurt, only sank to the ground silently. Blood loss soon sent her falling into a familiar world of darkness… a world that reminded her, somehow, of Scythe's labyrinth…

The young man, after seeing Inez shudder and go still, made no noise, himself. He simply gave Crimson Blade a look that told the creature exactly what he felt. His eyes were so filled with loathing that Blade drew back from the girl's body – he had been preparing to end her life entirely – and come after the teenager instead. This barrier had to be eliminated. And Scythe came to meet him.

Ducking underneath Blade's guard, Scythe brought both hands together and drove his elbow into the creature's stomach, hearing with satisfaction his opponent emit a grunt of pain. Crimson was beginning to tire; even his immense strength could not last for such a long period of time. He could not mask his pain as well as before.

The creature fell back a few steps, recovered fairly quickly and dodged to the left, rushing in and grabbing Scythe's arm, jerking it hard in the opposite direction. Mockingly, he watched as the teenager staggered off-course, then dove in and scratched his enemy across the face with his metal wing.

Blood trickled down Scythe's face, but he did not falter as he changed direction swiftly and delivered three kicks to Blade's chest in rapid succession, knocking Crimson backwards with every hit. Almost immediately, he whirled sideways, crouched low and took hold of the reeling Blade's leg, pulling it forwards and causing the creature to land heavily on his back in the dirt.

Gasping for breath, Blade jumped up and kicked Scythe in the shoulder, then followed by darting forwards and catching the teenager across the neck with his forearm. Just as quickly, he leaped back, and, seeing that Scythe was also gasping for breath, ran for him again, this time hitting Scythe in the ribs with the same move he had used on Matt. The teenager could swear that he heard one of his ribs crack; he certainly felt it.

Clutching his side with a hand that were slowly being stained with blood – his armor had cracked from Blade's sheer strength – the black-haired young man came for Blade again, but the creature hit him again, hard, across the neck with his arm, then shoved Scythe so he stumbled and, at last, fell to the ground.

Crimson, sides heaving as he breathed heavily, limped over, halted beside the teenager, who was struggling to rise, and placed his boot on Scythe's neck. The young man immediately ceased his attempt to get up, and stared at his enemy with eyes that flamed equally as brightly as Crimson's himself.

"Kill me now," he said quietly, in a tone that did not betray the feelings that boiled beneath the surface. Personally, Blade couldn't figure out how he managed to accomplish it. "Either that, or let me up, so I may die fighting."

"No, mortal. I think not. And to add insult to injury, I think I will make one last shape-shift. It will take up some of my remaining strength, but there is no one left around to stop me! Watch, Scythe… and pray for a swift death…"

The form of Crimson Blade shimmered, shifted, changed shape. The presence of the boot never faded, however. When Scythe could see Blade's figure solidly once more, his eyes widened, though he never made a single sound.

It was the shape of Inez that Crimson had chosen to torment him. The last thing he would see was her face, contorted by evil. The last thing he would feel was her boot, crushing the life from him slowly. That only thing that was not of Inez's were the eyes. The eyes were burning, scarlet red. Taking a deep breath, Crimson Blade spoke, not with Inez's voice, but with his own. It sounded very much out of place…

"I bid you farewell, Scythe. Let this be a reminder to you, for the terrible deeds in your past." Crimson/Inez lifted his/her head and screamed, but it was not a scream with one voice. He/she screamed with the voices of many people, screams that echoed in Scythe's head, screams that haunted his dreams, screams that he would remember into eternity.

Then Blade's/Inez's foot pressed down hard, slowly cutting off his windpipe, obstructing his breathing. The teenager could not fight anymore. His part was over.

Neither of them saw a bloodstained heap stir and haltingly sit up. Matt, glancing around groggily, caught sight of the figure of Crimson/Inez choking Scythe, jerked in surprise and forced himself to stand. Somehow, he managed it, though he staggered tipsily, unable to keep tight control over his pained limbs in his weakness.

At first glance, he had thought wildly that the person standing over Scythe really was Inez, but he saw the crimson eyes and knew who it was almost immediately, after a second look. What can I do? he thought frantically to himself, but his mind seemed to run slower than usual; Crimson/Inez still hadn't noticed him.

Suddenly, he became aware of a bulge, an object in his pocket, an object that he drew out with trembling, bloodstained fingers and surveyed with newfound hope.

It was the knife Scythe had given to him, before they left Control Central. The boy pulled it from its sheath of leather and looked upon the sharp blade glittering in the cold light of the stars. For a moment, he had to close his eyes against the painful throbbing in his head, and when he opened them again, his gaze fell upon Crimson/Inez.

However, it was no longer Crimson/Inez. Blade had reverted back to his original form, not being able to hold the other shape any longer.

"It's the only thing we have left," the red-haired boy muttered grimly, then, hefting the knife in his hand, leapt forwards at a run, forcing his legs to move swiftly, despite his wounds.

The next few moments seemed to happen in slow motion. Matt reached Blade quickly, who then jerked his head up and stared, wide-eyed, at the boy. His face twisted in anger, he began to step off Scythe's neck to face this new threat…

… when Matt, with his last strength, gripped the handle hard and thrust the gleaming blade up to the hilt into Crimson Blade's chest.

The creature gagged again, much louder than the previous time, and clutched at his chest in pain, eyes staring in fury and hatred at the boy who had unwittingly caused his downfall so many times, who was now sending him to his death: his final destination. Deep black blood flowed from his mouth, dripped down his chin; he fell back a few steps, gripping the handle of the dagger with a shaking hand. Blood welled from the fatal wound, dripped to the ground in obsidian droplets.

"Damn you…" Blade choked past the iron taste of blood. "Damn you, Matthew… You've gotten you wanted… what you always wanted…" He dropped to his knees, looked up at Matt, whose gaze was fixed on Crimson with a kind of disgusted fascination; the boy found he could not tear his eyes away from this grotesque sight, this death he had caused.

Taking in a deep, shuddering breath, the evil, twisted Crimson Blade glared at his mortal enemy for the last time with his flaming scarlet eyes, and uttered his final words:

"I leave you to your fate, Matthew, to the knowledge that you caused the end of your own friends…" He drew in another ragged breath, choked softly. "Death will not stop me finding you in your darkest dreams… your darkest nightmares… and in that, I will live forever…"

The breath left his body with a sigh, and Crimson Blade slumped to the ground, dead. His eyes, wide and staring, burned with their ignited flame for just one more moment.

Then the flame flickered, faded.

And died.

For the last time, Crimson Blade's corpse dissipated… dissolved… and was borne away on the wind like smoke.

The same wind fluttered the torn clothing of Matt's fallen companions. The injured boy stood there, staring fixedly where the body of Crimson Blade had lain - where Scythe's knife now lay - frozen in place, horrified beyond reason.

A hand plucked weakly at the hem of his ripped jeans. Still in a terrified trance, Matt, slowly directed his gaze to the source. Scythe, lying unmoving on the ground, the scratches along the side of his face standing out starkly in contrast to his paled skin, whispered hoarsely, "We must leave here… call for assistance…" Then his hand fell back, and he sank once more into unconsciousness.

Fighting the nausea and a deep urge to return to unconsciousness himself, Matt retrieved his Squak Pad and dialed Motherboard. By the time he had gotten it from his backpack, he had fallen to the ground, unable to keep himself upright any longer. Only some kind of reserve of strength, that existed somewhere deep inside, succeeded in preventing the boy from blacking out entirely.

When Motherboard's concerned face flickered on-screen, he sighed in relief and said weakly, forcing the words out through bloodstained lips, "Motherboard… we did it…"

Then he couldn't fight the darkness anymore, and his world went peacefully, thankfully black.