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…
The final battle is over. Now the Cybersquad must learn to put aside the events of that dark day, and turn to the future…
Rating: PG-13 (minimal gore, death, violence)
Author's Note/s: Lol… "camping".
Does anyone know the REAL spelling for the Squak Pads? (I might have spelled it wrong...)
Chapter 14: Recovery
"I don't get it, Inez," Jackie said thoughtfully. "I don't see how Crimson could exist like he did…"
The Cybersquad and Scythe were sitting in the main control once more, discussing the past events, exchanging theories. A few days had passed since the Final Battle; Inez, Matt and Jackie had informed their parents by phone that they were "camping", to cover the fact that they were still recovering, under Dr Marbles' excellent care.
The Doc had – with much difficulty, he admitted - restored Digit to his former self, with no visible damage remaining. The cybird was his usual cheerful self, though a shadow of fear hovered around his eyes occasionally, when he recalled his horrific memories of Crimson Blade.
Jackie had recovered almost instantly; when Blade had passed away, the scratches on her arms had closed and ceased bleeding. No one could explain why this had happened. Meanwhile, for the first few days, Inez had been in agony, the deep cuts causing her much pain. Now, her neck was still healing, but she could talk again, and the deep cuts burned only a little.
The person who had, perhaps, suffered most of all of them, was still weak. Matt sat, slumped in a chair, eyes closed tiredly. His leg still pained him, and his own wounds were improving, but the rest of his companions thought privately that the main affliction he bore was mental. He had barely spoken to anyone since their rescuing by Dr Marbles, even when they were speculating about Crimson Blade.
Scythe had been up and about earlier than the rest of them. The Doc had repaired his armor, and his face was nearly back to normal, as the scratches had not been as deep as they had first thought. The teenager spent his time wandering Control Central, and hardly saw or spoke to the Cybersquad, not even Inez.
Currently, however, everyone was together at last.
"I have a theory," Inez responded quietly, unable to talk very loudly due to her injury. She had been pondering this ever since she regained consciousness. "Assuming that Crimson Blade possessed both a mortal and incorporeal form, he could shift shapes according to his uses. It was this, however, that caused his downfall. His mortal form could exist only if his spiritual form survived. That, at least, explains how he returned in the first place: his mortal shape was destroyed, but his incorporeal shape remained, dragging his soul back into his body. His control over the two halves was weakened considerably, although his mortal form remained as powerful as ever, perhaps even more."
She paused to catch her breath, prodding her neck gingerly, flinching a little. Heaving a sigh, Inez continued.
"When Matt stabbed Blade, he had just completed forming his own body, after…" The girl paused, glancing at Scythe, and skipped that part. "To shape-shift, his mortal form required the spiritual form to combine with and transform into another shape. When he was stabbed, the spiritual form had not yet parted from the body, and therefore…" She drew a finger across her throat, and winced again.
Jackie nodded, eyes wide in wonder. "That must have taken a long time to figure out," she said, appreciating her friend's intelligence – for once.
"Believe me… it did," Inez responded softly, her thoughtful gaze resting lightly on Scythe, who had leaned back, withdrawing into the shadows. The only feature visible of the teenager was his glasses, glinting despite the darkness surrounding him.
The cybird, who was seated next to Inez, patted the girl on the shoulder, grinned his normal happy grin and said, looking up at Motherboard's colossal monitor, "What about the Hacker, Motherboard?"
Even the supercomputer could not keep the humored tone from her voice. "He survived – Digit, and has returned to – his base, more determined – than ever, after his betrayal. I must say – that the curses he was using – were not entirely appropriate. The Grim Wreaker – crashed not far from where you fought with – Crimson Blade. Damage – was minimal, although the ship suffered minor – hull burns."
As one, the group – excluding Matt - shook their heads in disbelief, and, though none would admit it, faint disappointment. They had hoped that Hacker would have at least gained some sense out of the entire experience. Apparently not.
Without warning, the red-haired boy – who had not uttered a single word, nor made a sound, throughout the conversation – shoved his chair back from the table, threw himself from the seat and limped from the room at a rapid pace. The mere expression on his face kept the rest of the Cybersquad from following. There was an awkward silence.
"Do you think he will ever fully recover?" Inez asked quietly, glancing around at her friends. None of them replied for a moment, then Jackie said hesitantly, "All he needs is time..."
"Time sometimes isn't enough to heal the injuries of the spirit."
Surprised, both the girls and Digit turned to look at Scythe, whose voice, though whispering, echoed in the vast room. Ignoring their questioning glances, the teenager gracefully left his seat and headed in the direction Matt had taken.
Inez sighed, frustrated at this angst-like behaviour. "What are we going to do with the pair of them?"
-
Softly, sedately, Scythe took his time going after Matt.
"He cannot hide his face from his friends forever," he said to himself, continuing on through the hallways of Motherboard's inner workings with measured tread. Upon glancing up to scan his surroundings, he glimpsed a flash of red, a splash of green, disappearing around a corner.
Deciding he would do better to follow at a faster pace, Scythe rounded the corner and placed his hand on Matt's shoulder, forcing the eleven-year-old to halt. The boy staggered on his injured knee, but regained his balance, did not turn to face him.
"Turn around, Matthew," Scythe spoke quietly. "You have no need to ignore me, nor avert your face."
Slowly, the red-haired boy faced the teenager, his face bearing an expression of intense pain.
"But I do," he responded finally, in a strained voice. "I am a coward. I am a failure. And, most of all, I am a murderer."
"Don't you think I know how you feel?" Scythe replied, gray eyes gleaming like an overcast light on winter snow. "What you require, Matthew, is someone to talk to. And I think your friends are adequate. They are all extremely concerned about you. Remember, they shared your experience." He smiled slightly, the same smile Matt had seen when he had first met the teenager. "What you did to Crimson Blade needed to be done. The Cybersquad may have perished, that day, if it weren't for you. He would not have stopped until we were all dead. So I would deign to consider yourself a failure, a coward, and a murderer. You did not fail; you had courage; death of body and spirit was the only thing that could halt that mindless evil." A shadow clouded his eyes, and Matt could no longer tell what Scythe was thinking. Somehow, a slightly transparent mask had been placed over the emotions that hovered, faintly seen, beneath the surface.
"What about you?" the boy asked tentatively. "What with fighting Crimson and all… and… and what he did to you…"
The look that came onto Scythe's face next was almost like an actual physical blow, and Matt flinched, seeing the shield slam into place, rendering the teenager's expression blank. The gray eyes were suddenly devoid of anything: not even the sparkling light that normally filled them danced in their depths. He seemed to tense; the hands clenched at his sides.
"Go and talk to your friends, Matthew," Scythe said coldly, and brushed past the red-haired boy, walking in the opposite direction.
"You can't ignore it for the rest of your life!" Matt yelled after him. "You need the same thing I do," he added in a normal tone, rather thoughtfully. Eyeing the black-armored figure, he saw it stop. Then turn.
"If ignoring this for the rest of my life banishes the pain of failure, then so be it. I know many kinds of pain. This is one of which I cannot take. For it was I who failed, Matthew. Not you. And why did I fail? Because of one weakness. And Crimson Blade found that weakness immediately." The teenager's voice rang hard as steel in Matt's ears. "I have no friends. I need no one to talk to other than my servants."
There was silence for a moment, a silence in which years seemed to pass. Scythe did not move, only stared at the red-haired boy with that icy, blank stare. Finally, however, Matt spoke again, and in his eyes, the teenager thought he saw understanding...
"There is much love in the world," the eleven-year-old said quietly, wisdom beyond his years showing through his words. He knew what inner turmoil Scythe faced. He knew what Scythe was talking about.
Facing away, Scythe responded in that same expressionless voice:
"It is too late for love."
And he vanished into the shadows at the end of the corridor, turning the corner, disappearing from sight.
A sudden, heavy sadness gripped Matt's heart, and, walking back to his friends, the boy wondered what had happened to the teenager, to create that kind of despair.
-
"… and then, he said no more, only walked away from me silently," Matt finished. Jackie gave him a swift hug, while Inez patted his shoulder and Digit gave him a small smile. The boy had just completed telling his friends what had occurred in the corridor, as well as informing them of his thoughts and feelings on the final battle. Each had added his or her own opinions on the different events, and now, all four were at peace.
If only Scythe was at peace, Inez thought sadly. If only he could talk to us about this.
Aloud she said, "What are we going to do about Scythe?"
Her three friends suddenly looked awkward. "Well… I was hoping that you would talk to him, Nezzie," Matt said hesitantly. "You seem to understand him better than any of us."
"I don't know about that, Matthew, and don't call me Nezzie!" she snapped back.
"Sorry, Ne – Inez."
The Hispanic girl glared at him half-seriously, and continued, "He's withdrawn into himself, and I don't know how to pull him out of it. He hasn't spoken to me since the final battle.
"I can't believe that Crimson Blade would do something like that," she said in wonder, shaking her head in disbelief. "That's just utter cruelty…"
"That's all Crimson Blade ever was," Matt said darkly. Jackie nodded and shot Inez a somewhat suspicious glance.
"He liked you, didn't he?" she suddenly demanded, making the girl jump violently. Upon seeing Inez flush slightly, the African-American sat back, rubbing her right arm absently. "That's why he's so upset about this!"
"I think so," Inez replied softly, staring into space, as if remembering something recent, something that yet seemed to have happened years ago. "He can't believe that something like this could cause such a 'weakness', as he puts it."
"It's not a weakness," Digit said indignantly. "I reckon it's a strength!"
Jackie laughed and then engulfed the cybird in a hug. "That was cute, Didge."
"Another thing is, he can't join us, because he is apparently evil," Matt said, grinning a little as he watched Digit squirm out of Jackie's grip, gasping for breath and massaging his ribs.
"Yes. Remember what he said when I first suggested he fight with us?" Inez said, as Digit recovered and stretched his wings by flying up to Motherboard's monitor.
'…"I cannot," he responded simply; turning away and placing his hands behind his back, gazing at something beyond this world, beyond all pain, beyond death, with longing. Scythe continued to speak. "I am evil; evil cannot help good. So it is known throughout the universe – including your own."…'
'…"In my eyes, the shadows never pass," Scythe replied dully. "A new day never arrives; the sun can never shine." He glanced over at Dasariah. "I am also held back by other things."…'
"He finds himself drawn back to his labyrinth, because he feels he doesn't belong here." Matt sighed and rested his elbows on the table.
"You are correct, Matthew." A voice behind him made the boy jump and turn to face the source.
It was the very person they had been discussing who stood not far from them. A faint bitterness tinged his tone; the expressionless eyes were dimly lit with a fading light.
"Scythe…?" Inez said, searching his face but finding nothing. The teenager let a smile curl his lips slightly, but other than that, he did not acknowledge that the girl had spoken.
"I am leaving," the teenager said simply. "I do not belong here. I will never belong here. I have served my purpose, and now I have need to return to my labyrinth, and the Kothos. I request of you a single thing: that you never breathe a word to anyone of my labyrinth, let alone my very existence. You should not venture down there again, for this time I will not be able to stop my servants from destroying you." Walking over to where Inez sat on the edge of her chair, he took her hand and kissed it softly, straightened, and looked at them all in turn with his piercing gray eyes.
"Stay with us – a little longer," Motherboard spoke suddenly, the first thing she had said for the entire time. "The children will be leaving – soon, themselves."
"No, Motherboard. I will not stay. Too much has happened; my eyes have been opened too much. I cannot forever join good without purging myself of evil," Scythe replied.
"Everyone has evil in them, Scythe. Even us!" Inez said, her tone slightly exasperated as she stared up at his impassive face.
"You speak truth. But I have done things, terrible things I cannot forgive myself for. Farewell," the teenager responded solemnly.
"Please, don't leave," the Hispanic girl said, and, rising from her chair, hugged him – rather hard, he thought.
Stepping backwards, he let Inez's arms slide from around him. "I can. And I will," he said softly, evenly.
Though he was sure she wouldn't hear him, Scythe whispered in his mind:
Please understand, Inez. Let me go. You know why I leave. Don't make this harder than it is already.
And as she glanced at him sharply, he could swear that she had heard him…
"If you – must go – at least take this with – you," Motherboard said to the teenager, a hint of sadness in her metallic-like voice. Digit came forwards and handed Scythe an object that he stared at in consternation, coming out of his reverie.
"I will, though I do not see what use it will be to me," he replied finally. Slowly, the teenager extended a folded piece of paper to the cybird. "You will understand."
Taking it, Digit looked curiously at the paper, and clutched it tightly with his wing, raising his gaze to look Scythe in the eyes. He grinned his usual Digit grin.
With a slight inclination of his head, a sign of respect, Scythe walked away from the Cybersquad, leaving Control Central for what might perhaps be the last time. It would depend on what happened in the future…
He looked back only once, his light grey eyes traveling over the group, over Jackie, over Digit, stopping once on Matt - who nodded knowingly - and resting, finally, on Inez.
With that last glance, he turned and walked outside, where a coupe was waiting to take him back to the Northern Frontier. As he climbed in and prepared to leave, the teenager looked down at the object clutched tightly in his hand.
It was a Squak Pad.
He smiled that melancholy smile that few had seen, and said quietly:
"Perhaps I do not walk alone."