All-Purpose Disclaimer

Diet soda will not make you thinner.


Kim Possible
The Power of Trust

by Cyberwraith9


"Well, Chosen One." Simia's voice echoed off the high, domed ceiling and reverberated among the three teenagers and their rodent friend. Halfway to the apex of the dome, Simia opened Her arms and pirouetted, riding the cascading red energy around Her body with preternatural grace. The Lotus Gauntlet's twin scythes cut a circle around Her, reshaped by Her will. "What do you think?"

Ron did his best to manage his fear. It wasn't easy, considering the super-powered foe floating above them wielding the most powerful weapon ever forged. His natural humor leapt to shield them from the horrors of the situation; "Holy crap," he groaned loudly, "She's gone super-saiyan."

"Ron," snapped Kim. "We need a game plan." She looked back at Yori, who slumped against the wall with noticeable effort to remain upright. Yori's chest rose and fell unsteadily, and her arm still hung at an unnatural angle. "Use your healing power on Yori," commanded Kim, "And we'll—"

A bolt of red struck Kim in the back, throwing her to her knees. The mystically-healed aches and pains returned in a violent surge as Simia's dark energies assaulted her inside and out. "Trifle not, children," Simia called down. Another bolt gathered in Her palm, burning like a small sun kept at bay by Her fingers. "I have a plan for all of you. Such is the way of the Monkey Master, is it not?"

An earthly comet leapt from Kim's side, composed mostly of Ron and fueled by as much ancient mysticism as he could muster before Simia let another attack fly. The two warriors collided in midair and created a blinding crimson flash. By the time Kim could see again, their battle had already resumed, returned to the ground.

Ron interposed himself between Simia and his friends. He kept his fists high and close to his face, bobbing his head behind them like a boxer. "Not happening, Super Tramp. Let's keep this a Chosen-only rumble, m'kay?" The lengthy blades on Her wrist kept him an extra stride back. Though now a gauntlet, the Blade could become any weapon, a longer weapon, at the speed of a thought.

"So be it," agreed Simia. "You still have half of my destiny within you. I need to collect it." Her gauntlet flashed, snapping Ron's head to the side with a powerful slice. Twin trenches erupted across his face, spilling blood in the wake of the blow and drawing from Ron a bitter, brief howl. When his glare returned to Simia, the bleeding welts rippled and sealed themselves, leaving only smears of red as evidence of their ever having been.

The battle raged on with Ron on the defensive as Kim knelt over their ailing friend. A cursory check of Yori's body didn't reveal any gushing wounds or organs playing peek-a-boo, which Kim took as a step in the right direction. "Yori, you have to get up." Kim pointedly ignored the frantic chattering of the naked mole rat on her shoulder. Some distance behind her, the curved wall of the Temple exploded with a Ron-sized impact. The anguished cries of her best friend's agony were harder to ignore, but Kim kept her mind steadfast on her former rival's face. "Yori," she said again, slapping at Yori's cheek with the gentility of a kindhearted drill sergeant.

Kim's voice endured the black void between Yori's mind and wakefulness, bringing her back into reality. Yori's dizzy eyes fluttered open, faced in an instant with the full force of Kim's unceasing insistence. "Kimberly-san," she garbled through swollen lips. A pair of hands grasped at her eyelid and forced it fully open. Yori had neither the energy nor the sense to resist.

"I don't think you have a concussion," stated Kim with hesitant optimism. And even if Yori's brains had been spilling out of her head, Kim would have said whatever it took to get her back on her feet. The Eleventh Hour had reared its ugly head, and they needed everything and anything they could muster to throw at Simia. "Yori," she said, "How do we stop this?"

"Stop…"

"Yes," she snapped. Another burst of shattering rock overshadowed her voice, forcing her to repeat herself. She grasped Yori by the shoulders, and then pulled back as Yori hissed and twisted to favor her dislocated limb. "Yori! How do we stop her from killing Ron?"

Yori simmered in her pain a moment more, listening to Ron's agony in the background as Simia beat the life from him with slow, tranquil precision. Her clouded eyes drew strength from the bright green storm raging in Kim's face, and sparked a tempest of her very own. "My arm," Yori said, nodding at the useless limb. "Can you…"

Kim grasped the appendage with expert hands. A wordless look of warning passed between them, accepted by Yori with a bob of her head, before Kim twisted the limb back into place. Yori grimaced and growled, gritting her teeth, but her arm functioned once more. "Thank you," she gasped, working the sleepy numbness from her limb.

"Any ideas?" asked Kim as she helped Yori to her feet.

A streak of black shattered the cave wall next to the pair, bowling them into the air amidst a cloud of unforgiving stone shards. Dozens of new cuts laid into the teens as they rolled to the ground in time to feel it tremble with the lifeless impact of a wet sack of meat wrapped in black. Pebbles scattered as Ron's limbs dropped after his body, torn and bleeding like the rest of him, but thankfully still attached. His forehead ran slick with blood that pooled in his struggling eyes. Still more of the stuff cracked as it dried over his freckles.

"Ron!" Yori plowed into her fiancé him, pressing her cheek into a pool of blood on his chest to listen for a heartbeat. His torso heaved with a raspy breath at her touch. "My precious Ron-kun," she moaned, rising and cupping his swollen face in her hands. Then her weeping eyes swiveled up, drawing upon some secret store of hatred deep inside the serene young woman. "You monster," she screamed.

The new Chosen glided down, safe inside Her cocoon of scarlet magic. She hovered a few inches from the ground, refusing to sully Herself with the prison of the mortal coil and favored instead the realm of gods. "I offered paradise," Simia retorted with infinite calm, no longer the raving wretch of a few moments ago, "And you slapped it away. It grieves me to take such drastic measures, but can't you see? None may stand in the way of the True Order, be they a champion, a vessel of my power, or even," She reflected sadly, "Those I once stood beside. Now, all I can offer is the mercy of a quick death. For this, I am truly sorry."

Ron sat up with considerable help from Yori. Kim wanted to reach out to help him, to hold him, but she saw a scene with no more room for anything of the sort. She watched Ron lean into Yori's embrace as they glared together up at the dark goddess. "You don't know what mercy is, Simia," Kim called. Like Simia, Kim had no malice left in her voice. She matched the radiant calm of her enemy and strode out, placing herself between the lovers and their nemesis. "This isn't about mercy or destiny. You just—"

Kim's dramatic monologue (hastily crafted under duress, but nevertheless brilliant) descended into a fit of agonized screams when red lightning cascaded from Simia's gauntlet and drove itself into a thousand points all over her body. The force lifted her into the air and back against the wall, jerking her limbs as though she were a puppet on a string. "The trifling of an ant means nothing to me," Simia stated, dragging Kim up to equal Her height with arcing red wires. The power continued to flay Kim's soul, but the inhuman howls torn free followed the same unnoticed path as Kim's impassioned speech had through Simia's ears.

A rocket's red glare streaked from the floor and into Simia's stomach, silencing Her onslaught. She reeled back, surprised rather than hurt, as a pair of snarling buck teeth clamped into Her midsection. The impact drove Simia higher as She heard Rufus snarl and tear at Her nigh-invulnerable flesh. Rufus abandoned that fruitless quest and instead scampered up Her bust line. Standing upon fertile mountains of flesh, he put his tiny claws up and boxed Her chin, growing and squeaking with the ferocity of a rat ten times his size.

Simia plucked him from Her chest and examined him a moment. The oozy mole rat dangled from a pseudopod of flesh caught between Her fingers. "A rodent with the Sacred Power is a blasphemy I cannot forgive," decreed She. Simia tossed him into the air with a flick of Her wrist and severed his flailing body with one swift stroke of Her Lotus Gauntlet. Rufus' final shriek resonated all throughout the first temple as two distinct globs the color of bubble gum splattered onto the floor.

"Rufus!" Kim screamed, ignoring the choking smoke that still drifted from her smoldering uniform. Every moment brought with it a new world of agony which she could hardly feel as she sprinted across the floor, too late to catch the remains of one of her dearest, most loyal friends. Her knees skittered on rocks knocked free in the titanic battle where she fell before the discolored smears staining Toshimiru's sanctuary.

That last, terrified screech still rang in Kim's ears, drowning out whatever sanctimonious claptrap spewing out of Simia's mouth. But no force in Heaven, Hell, or anywhere between could have made Kim miss the unholy, baleful howl erupting behind her. The entire cavern shook with Ron's sorrow as he burst into a being of pure luminescence with such force that Yori could no longer hold her beloved in her arms. "RUFUS!"

Simia squinted against the light that blinded Kim and Yori. "Really, Stoppable," She scoffed, "I didn't think you had it—"

The next thing Simia knew was the cold blast of stone breaking beneath Her spine and the tortured roar of the mountain as She cut a new scar into its belly. By the time Simia willed Herself to a stop, Her attacker had already started in hot pursuit. The cold flames surrounding his body faded enough to reveal the hardened lines and bleeding flesh of Ron Stoppable. Tattered clothing, dizzying blood loss, and tears that blurred his eyes could not dissuade him from his target. Speed greater than Simia had ever seen carried his fist across the Temple and into Her stomach. It was only Her own unnatural quickness that saved Her from a third blow, which widened the open wound in the Temple's ceiling with a terrific crack.

Simia took up position opposite Her now-airborne teen with a fresh smile painted on Her face. "So," She said, "He finally awakens. Too little, too late, gaijin. I—"

"Lotus Blade."

For a second, Simia wondered if Stoppable had simply wished aloud. Only when the gauntlet tore free from Her arm did She realize his true aim, too slow to stop him as his waiting hand clasped around the weapon. The Lotus Blade popped in his grasp, returning to its wizen katana origins at his silent behest.

Ron glared Simia down and traced an invisible line between the two with his Blade. "No more," he growled.

A serene snicker answered Ron's wordless challenge. "You, face me? Are you joking?"

The flash and pop of Ron's transforming weapon never registered with Simia before he brought a Lotus Bludgeon upside Her head. A metallic ringing followed in Her ears as the blow buried Her head in the ceiling. Large pieces of the Temple's dimpled dome bounced off Her shoulders. Still more broke free when Her hands slapped against the stone to push Herself free. The second time around, Simia actually saw his attack, a spiked Lotus Flail that smashed into Her shoulder and gobbled up Her altitude.

"Did that sound like a joke?" Ron dove after Her, willing his weapon into a Lotus Axe as he followed the stinging bite of his snarl. A blast of red lightning shot from Simia's palm, but too slow to get past the Lotus Shield he conjured to deflect it.

A thunderstorm raged unnoticed above Kim as she knelt over her fallen friend. Unfettered tears trickled from her eyes and fell into the pink glop she gathered into her cupped palms. Shapely shadow slithered over her shoulder and onto the floor, and a comforting hand settled atop her arm. But Kim paid Yori no mind, even when her ally's tears soaked into her sleeve. She just stared into the puddle that trembled in her hands. "Oh, Rufus," she moaned.

Quivering at the proximity, the two halves poured into one another with a ravenous need. Kim yelped and jerked away, letting the jiggling mass fall to the floor with a blorch. Twisting, writhing, the mass soon quieted and solidified itself into four stubby limbs protruding from a tiny, torpedo-shaped body. "Mmmwhhoaaah," Rufus groaned once his face resurfaced.

Kim scooped the befuddled rodent into her hands and nuzzled him to her face. "Rufus!" she squealed. Tired though he must have been after reconquering his shape, Rufus rippled against her bloodied skin and purred. "You disgusting little pink booger," she sobbed joyously, "Don't you ever scare me like that."

The touching moment couldn't survive the crater created when Simia power-bombed her hated opposite deep into the floor. "Now may not be the best time for a reunion," Yori called, maintaining her footing with some difficulty. Her next words lost their way in the explosive blast that sent Simia flying backwards from the ground. Yori swallowed her final sentence at the sight of her bloodied, befreckled beloved soaring into the air inside a ball of hellish flames. The awe within her crumbled into horror as she watched his face twist with unnatural hate.

Rufus' weak protests went unanswered as Kim tucked his unstable form into a pouch on her waist. The reddened reflection of the battle in her eyes shared Yori's amazement and matched her despondence. The back of her hand wiped clean the tears that still clung to her face. "You're the expert," she reminded Yori needlessly. "How do we beat Simia?"

In contemplating the answer, Yori stared up into the titanic struggle above. At an awestruck glance, Ron's vicious attack with his shifting weapon guaranteed his victory when compared to Simia's harried defense. But each blow Ron delivered with a corresponding howl grew weaker than the last, whereas Simia's serene smile stayed solid, never slipping as She parried each strike. "Ron-kun cannot prevail alone," said Yori. The teen in question smashed Simia into a wall with his Lotus Mallet, apparently trying to convince Yori otherwise, but her confidence in the assessment remained resolute.

"What does that mean?" Kim insisted. "What should we do?"

Long, thin metal shafts snapped into Yori's grip. They snapped open, revealing the razor edges of gleaming metal fans. Yori lowered herself into a weary stance and raised her weapons, masking her form inside the deadly, exotic weapons. Luminous eyes narrowed at Kim over the rim of her war fans as she said, "It means we fight to the death alongside our beloved. No one can ask more of us."

Kim blinked, staring blankly at Yori as the Chosen battle shook their mountain to its core and swept her hair back with dramatic effect. "That's it? Dying? That's your big plan?" Flecks of stone rained down on her furious scowl.

"It will be our final honor," insisted Yori, "To die in defense of our Monkey Master and our world. We have no ancient power of our own, but…" Her war fans sliced through the air, and she glared at the abomination that possessed the stolen powers of their savior. "I will not go silently."

Such a ludicrous plan hadn't crossed Kim's ears since she let Ron plan their sneak attack on Drakken's mountaintop fortress (And she still couldn't figure out why Drakken had bought it. Honestly, a pizza delivery boy at sixty thousand feet above sea level?). Still, she wasn't brimming with plans of her own. The fight above, pulled from the pages of some Dragonsphere Q episode, exceeded their league by eight or nine thousand levels. Energy blasts, magic weapons, flying kicks that really flew… She and Yori wouldn't last two seconds in a full frontal assault. If only they had some magic of their own, something that could stand up to Simia's…

The idea struck her as soundly as any punch would have. Kim glanced up at the raging battle, then down to the center of the chamber. There, encompassed by a circle of scattered candles, lay the answer to all of their problems. "Let's save dying for Plan B," Kim suggested. "I've got another idea. We're almost as likely to die, in case you had your heart set on that." By this time, Ron's growing fatigue was obvious even to Kim, so she laid out her plan to Yori in a few terse words.

This time, Yori blinked at Kim. "That's as foolhardy and slapdash a plan as I've ever heard."

"It seems like that now," Kim said distractedly, already hard at work solidifying the rest of her plan in her mind. Concentration didn't come easy to her when the floor continued to shake with the terrible struggle overhead. "Afterward, it'll seem brilliant. I promise."

A tiny smile cracked Yori's fierce face. "Then we'd best hurry."

Kim nodded toward the broken circle of candles. "You know what to do. I'll tell Ron."

Yori had already gone, moving like a shadow across the shaking floor and leaving Kim to her demanding task. Gazing back up, Kim waited, watching, ready to choose her moment. Though comparatively sluggish to his fury a moment before, his punches and kicks still moved like lightning and cracked thunderously against Simia's impenetrable guard. Simia still wasn't impressed by the display. Rather, She laughed as he drained himself in his pathetic rage. Lotus Blades, Knives, Staves, and Bludgeons rolled like raindrops from her arms, each blow infinitesimally lighter than its predecessor.

Finally, the moment came, as Ron pulled back to drive a Lotus Spear into Simia's stomach. "Ron," Kim called up between cupped hands, "Rufus is alive!"

The words snapped Ron out of his trance. He shot a glance over at Kim with a familiar, "Huh?"

Kim winced sympathetically as her distraction had its desired effect; Simia leapt in and backhanded Ron straight into the ground, where he stopped several inches lower than the floor. The impact threw Kim onto the dusty, cracking black floor, but she rolled back onto her feet in a heartbeat and set out for Ron's crater in a dead run. Luckily for Kim, Simia seemed content to float there, as if daring Ron to rise again to challenge Her. "Ron!" cried Kim, reaching the crater's edge and skidding down to its middle.

Laying face up at the epicenter of his crater, Ron raised his head and tried to cut through the daze that vied for control of his head. He still bled from dozens of shallow cuts, as well as several that sparked serious concern in Kim, and his red-orange aura had faded to a mere fizzle of flickering light. "Rufus…" he moaned. "Rufus, buddy…"

"He's okay, Ron." Kim reassured him as she knelt down, taking his head into her hands. She forced his gaze into hers, trembling at the glimmer of scarlet that danced still in his chestnut eyes. "Ron, I need you to run a Number One Classic."

"Nuh…Number One." He stumbled around the words. Blood slicked his lips, making it difficult.

"A Number One Classic," Kim said again. If Ron had a head injury, or couldn't get back up, they were sunk. Come to think of it, Kim realized that any one of a thousand little things could spoil her plan. "This is important," she pleaded. "We need you, Ron. Can you do it?"

Simia's haunting laughter floated from on high, blasting the fog out of Ron's mind with hurricane force. "You want to flip the positions?" asked Ron.

A shake of her head widened Ron's eyes. "No. Nothing fancy, just like always," Kim said.

"Kim!" Ron grabbed her shoulders and lifted her as he stood, bearing her weight with no effort. "Are you loco? She'll crush you."

Warm hands brushed away his strong, gentle embrace as she smiled a sad smile. Ron saw something that words could not describe calling to him from deep within her green eyes, something that went beyond thought, beyond emotion. Ron knew it meant something important, something that could fill volumes, and because of this, he didn't question his inability to understand it. Instead, he felt aghast as she said, "Then that's the way it is."

"Come, Stoppable," called Simia, unseen from Kim and Ron's tiny world, "Finish with your cow and come die like a man."

Kim touched Ron's bloodied face. "Are you with me?" she asked him with a quiet smile.

"Always," answered Ron without a thought. The two parted as Ron summoned the remainder of his strength into a fiery aura that consumed his outline. "Good luck," Ron called, and added after, "KP." And wasting no more time, Ron took to the air to do what he did best.

Her lips bit back a startled gasp as Kim watched her best friend break from the earth. Beneath the layers of boiling flames, she caught sight of a wink meant to bolster her spirits. It failed. Kim rested her hand upon the hilt at her waist and resolved herself to do the impossible; she would bide her time while Ron needed her, until the time came for her part in the madcap scheme.

A quiver worked its way down Ron's spine as he floated up to match Simia's height. He felt the Lotus Blade pulse reassuringly in his hand, but could take no comfort in possessing it. This fight wouldn't be decided by magical baubles. 'This is gonna hurt,' he lamented in his thoughts as he mustered his bravado.

"So, he comes at last," announced the new Chosen, offering outstretched arms as if presenting him to an unseen crowd. The murky room offered no applause as Ron bobbed in place across from Her. "Are you finally ready to yield, Stoppable?"

Ron's responding smirk held none of the fear Simia knew it should have. "Y'know, I've heard this song and dance before." He sighed. "Monkey Fist, Gorilla Fist…you wannabes are all the same. Yak and attack," he said, and shuffled his hands back and forth to illustrate, "Yak and attack. But by the end of the day, they're being hauled off in a patrol car, and I make it home in time for Letterman."

The humor in Simia's tone ran dry. "You live only because I have willed it so."

The Lotus Blade spun in a slow, lazy circle around Ron as he mimicked Simia's words while flapping his hand. "You live bnyah nyah nyeh nyah…" He laughed, and planted his hands on his hips. "You keep sayin' you're gonna kill me. Well?" Ron tapped his wrist smartly where his watch would have sat. "Tick tock, Monkey Girl. Time is money in the world domination biz."

Simia snarled, "You will pay for your insolence," and surged forward. She coiled her body and lashed out with a spinning hook kick capable of crushing concrete that just grazed the wispy edges of his ducking blond hair. She dove after to follow him, letting fly a powerful punch. Her glowing knuckles plunged into a pillowy, rubbery surface, pulling from the object a long, stuttering facsimile of a cheap biological laugh.

Ron smiled at Her from behind his blocking hand. He held Her fist at bay with trembling, whitened fingers. Their hands remained separate thanks to a sputtering, deflated Lotus Whoopee Cushion. As Simia pulled back in disgust, a grinning monkey face greeted Her within the wrinkled folds of his sacred, mystical gag. "Excuse you," Ron quipped.

"You dare?" roared She.

The bouncy red orb of a Lotus Paddleball bopped Her in the forehead as answer. "I do," he snickered. The scarlet in Her cheeks spread to encompass the rest of Her face before Her power flared back to life, drowning the color out in a sea of hateful red.

Good, but not quite enough. Time to take it up a notch.

"I dunno," he shrugged, "Maybe it's something else. I mean, it's kind of hard to take you seriously with those water balloons stuffed down the front of your-"

A hurricane gale focused into a single fist crushed Ron's stomach, folding him in twain and giving Simia an irresistible shot at the back of his neck. Her elbow jackhammered him down at Mach speeds, where he met the ground with explosive force. Stars danced in his eyes and rang in his ears to a haunting choir of angels beckoning him to a great beyond. But the only light hat the end of his tunnel vision as he looked up from his craterous grave was a growing ball of crimson fire engulfing the sky.

"Is that all?" Ron couldn't actually tell where Simia was. His brain rattled around inside his head, unable to process much aside from the pain flooding in from every other part of his body. Still, he knew his job, and wasn't going to quit now. "I've had harder love taps from Rufus."

Simia's foot cut through the nebulous blur of his vision and cracked him in the face. The blow snapped Ron's head back into the ground, where only his remaining mystic power saved him. Steely fingers gripped the matted, bloodied blond nest at the back of his head and hauled his face out of the stone. Simia rolled Ron over unceremoniously, letting the child flop onto the ground. What little dignity he had left pooled around his body in a growing, inky puddle. She drove Her fist into his body again and again, watching with satisfaction as his half of the power faded with each punch.

"What are you, Stoppable?" demanded Simia as She beat the life out of him. "You are nothing. Sidekick to an insect. White trash. Why the ancients chose you, I will never understand." Heaving, boiling, Simia reached down and grasped the torn clothes of the misshapen lump of flesh at Her feet and hauled it to Her face. Reddening brown eyes peered out from swollen lids, trying their best to focus on Her. "You are pathetic. You are useless."

A low, gargled chuckle worked its way out of Ron's split lips. Recovery from his injuries, magical or otherwise, now moved at a snail's pace. His magic had reached its limits, but he still laughed in Simia's face. "Actually," he crowed, "I make a pretty choice distraction."

An avenging spirit with a mane of fire rose up from behind Ron, bellowing a shrill cry of war that put even Simia on guard. She looked up, exposing the supple flesh of Her throat for Kim Possible's flashing katana to tear into. Skin and sinew sprayed from the blade's tip as Kim sliced, landing with her feet at either side of Ron's head. The shock to Simia's system paralyzed Her and rolled Her off of Her prey.

"Booyah," snapped Kim, raising her sword to split Simia's head.

Simia's hand caught Kim's wrist, grinding the bones together and eliciting a yelp from Kim as She lifted the teen into the air. Kim couldn't fathom the speed of Simia's recovery. Even now, the torn, bleeding flesh of Her throat finished knitting itself. The hair plastered in Kim's eyes could not dull the rage she saw in Simia's face. "This ends," Simia growled to the squirming girl in her grasp.

A grimace warped Kim's bitter features. "Sounds great to me," she grunted. She offered Simia no fear as the new Chosen drew back a glowing knife formed from Her fingers to plunge between Kim's pretty eyes. It seemed that Kim's plan had at least one unexpected hitch. 'So I have to die to save the world?' Icy flames bit at Kim's crushed wrist, chilling her final moments. 'No big.'

Simia's scowl vanished behind the glossy lines of a cartoonish red boxing glove propelled by accordion wooden slats. Her head snapped back, breaking Her focus and releasing Kim in one fell bop. Landing in a crouch, Kim followed the fist of the Lotus Extendo-Boxing Glove back to Ron's trembling hands. "Step off," said Ron. His weapon became a Lotus Staff, which he used to return to his feet. With a shaky voice, he called, "Let's keep this a Chosen-only, rumble, m'kay?" The way he leaned on his Staff sapped the credence of his repeated boast, but his eyes still shone with unhampered ferocity.

Scarlet power blasted Kim well away from their final battlefield. With any luck, the brat would break her neck in the fall and save Simia the trouble. "You miserable children," She spat, stalking over to him. A swift kick unseated his Staff, dropping him into Her waiting hands. His blood poured freely as Her crushing grip punctured his skin and tore flesh and muscle. Ron didn't even have energy enough to cry out. His head lolled, hanging like a great grape Simia ached to pluck and squash. "You don't understand. I have the will. I have the destiny. I have the power!"

"Hey, Simia!"

Kim Possible's call tore Simia's eyes away from her despicable precursor and to the wreck of a hero across the Temple. Kim rested in Yori's supportive arm, where she had been caught in her flight. In truth, Simia had forgotten all about the young ninja, who now wore a puzzling look of triumph. The puzzle solved itself when Yori lifted her free hand above her head, displaying her contribution to Kim's plan and sending an alarmed jolt up Simia's spine. The scowling glare of Simia's idol doled out reproach in stony silence, clutching its jade egg and clucking an unheard tongue at Her failure.

The dulled katana, still slick with Simia's blood, rose to meet Yori's find. Kim sneered at Simia with reddened teeth, watching the goddess' fear blossom with unpleasant, uncharacteristic satisfaction. "I have your blood," she shot, and wiped her blade against the statuette. The red ooze rippled against the gray stone before being sucked beneath its surface, where it sparked fresh illumination in the monkey's red eyes.

"No!" Simia called upon all Her might to strike the teens down. A wall of pure force struck Her from within, deadening Her limbs and snuffing the unnatural electricity arcing between Her fingers. Burning ice froze Her body, refusing Her commands and supplanting them with numb emptiness.

Yori grasped the Idol and aimed it at Simia like some ancient remote control. "Hold. Still." She watched Simia fall to her knees, yowling bloody murder as She fought the mystic control. "Ron-san, catch!" Yori hurled the Idol like a football, praying that her aim remained true.

Bleeding, broken, Ron caught the Idol against his chest, stumbling with the blow. The Lotus Blade assumed its true form at a dizzy thought. "Say 'ah.'"

Simia screamed as Ron plunged the Lotus Blade into her stomach. "No," She sobbed, still unable to move. "Don't take it from me!" But Ron ignored Her pleas, and Her power drained away in shuddering surges, leaving behind the coldest, emptiest void she could ever imagine. Simia's senses dulled, her muscles sagged, as everything that ever mattered to her slipped away through the gaping wound sheathing Ron's Blade.

Kim and Yori hobbled across the battlefield as Ron pulled the Blade from her stomach and wiped it clean on his tattered uniform. Warm blood puddle on his feet as Simia tilted forward, resting her forehead against his kneecap. Surrounded by her enemies and moments from the end, Simia should have done something to balance their accounts: a final curse, a wad of bloodied spittle, one last, desperate attack. Anything. But she could only lean against her hated rival and feel her miserable life drain away.

"All that I might do," she moaned. Blackness nipped at the edges of her blurry vision, and ice poured through her body. "Everything I had planned…My reign of benevolence…"

Warmth enveloped her wound, chasing the inky cold from her body. She drew a sharp breath and looked up, gazing into Ron Stoppable's eyes as she felt a pure and wonderful spirit touch her soul. His eyes shone with a different radiance, a heartfelt glow that backlit the flecks of amber in His chestnut eyes as they stared back into hers. He knelt beside her, pressing one hand into her stomach, while His other cradled her head. The power she coveted so highly knitted the edges of her wound shut, leaving behind only healthy bronzed skin that tingled with a feeling that transcended peace.

Kim gasped at the sight of the golden aura surrounding her friend. She would have stumbled if not for Yori, who bore Kim's good arm on her shoulder to help her along. Right before her eyes, the boy whose head she had once dislodged from the monkey bars on the playground became a bright being of immeasurable power. "Ron…" she murmured.

Ron smiled at Simia, helping her to her feet. A curious reverberation followed his voice, autonomous from any echo spat back by the cavern. "It's not about power or control," He told her. He dried her tears with a featherlight stroke of his thumb, cutting through the charcoal smeared on her face. "Nobody serves me. It's the other way around."

Simia's bottom lip trembled at the sight of this luminous being and His kindness. She tried to fall to her knees, to bow in the presence of the Power, but he would not let her. The tears would not stop, and the emptiness in her ached fiercely, a scar no power could wipe away, but something long dead in Simia awakened in His presence. His easy smile projected tranquility and peace, and his touch felt electric. "You…You are Him, aren't you?" she whispered.

"It's about people," He said. Looking back, He smiled at his two friends. Kim's jaw couldn't have dropped any lower without risking dislocation. Yori seemed ready to bow, just like her sister. "It's about helping them, no matter the cost. It…"

Ron stopped. The serenity on His face cracked as His voice came up short. He bent forward, clutching His stomach with a groan. But rather than flicker, His aura flared, growing brighter, brighter, almost blinding.

Concern overrode Kim's shock and pain. She detached herself from Yori and limped forward, reaching out. "Ron, what—"

Ron threw his head back and roared as His golden aura detonated, blowing the trio of ladies back. He clutched at His head, bellowing, wailing, as He became the epicenter of a saffron hurricane that pounded throughout the Temple. A shaft of pure light engulfed Ron's shuddering body, leaving only his haunting sobs as evidence of his presence, and those became lost in the howl of his mystic storm.

Kim fell to the ground, shielding her face from the sandpaper winds which carried their fight's rocky flotsam at deadly speeds. "What's happening?" she yelled, trying to push her voice over the din. "What's going on?"

"I don't know," Yori shouted back from Kim's side, ducked and covered like Kim.

"It is the Power." Simia's voice slithered from behind them. Both girls looked back, where Simia still stood, unblinking, in the tempest. Wisps of golden power arced from the central column, tearing away at the walls of the cavern. "He was meant to come into it gradually. Combining his awakened half with the half I activated by force—"

"He's overloading." Kim gritted her teeth, but then yelped when a booming rumble shook the floor pressed against her chest. Unlike the quakes during the fight, this tremor did not cease, but grew instead with each tick of the second hand. "Now what?"

Yori risked a glance upward. Through the swirling dust and debris, she watched the creation of thick breaches in the mottled dome high above them. "The First Temple is collapsing," she called.

Kim didn't hesitate. Heedless of the storm, she began crawling on her belly into the heart of the tempest. Yori followed, but took one last look back. The torrential winds swept Simia's hair back and tore the tears from her cheeks as she stood inside her dying dreams. The young ninja spared no sadness for this lost warrior, but she would carry the regret she felt then for the rest of her life. Already, the burden weighed heavily in her stomach. "Wait, Kimberly-san."

Each inch of their advance fought the teens before allowing them forward. Each second dragged on for an eternity that brought them miniscule increments closer to the pillar of light. Massive slabs of stone rained down from the ceiling, pieces that could have crushed either one of them in a heartbeat. But neither of them slowed.

Terrible heat pounded into Kim's face as she reached the edge of the Power. She fought her way onto her toes, crouching low to the floor against the terrible winds. "We just…" Kim reached out and then pulled her hand back with a yelp as the light burned her fingertips. "Yow!"

"We do not have long!" Yori hollered. A boulder the size of a Buick cracked the floor ten feet from where they stood. "What do we—"

With an emboldening howl, Kim raised her arms and plunged headfirst into the shimmering column. The light rippled like water at her entrance, bobbing back to stillness while Yori watched on. Yori hissed at the heat pouring from her lover's body. Diving into it might mean a quicker death, but not much else.

"For you, Ron-kun," she murmured, and dove in after Kim.

The heat burned into every part of her for a single instant before she crashed into Kim's back. All around them, swirling eddies of ancient force twisted and billowed, obscuring the rest of the Temple with encompassing light. A terrified young man twitched at its center, eyes closed, body spazzing, unable to control his Power.

"Ron-kun!" cried Yori.

Kim shook her head. She beat Ron's chest to no effect. "He can't hear us. He's totally catatonic, or something."

Yori knew at once what must be done. "Stand aside," she commanded in a confident tone. The unexpected regality of her voice startled Kim out of the way, allowing Yori full access to Ron. She felt his forceful muscles jolt as she ran her hands across his chest and over his shoulders. The rocking cave floor, its collapsing domed ceiling, and the intense forces that tore its mountain apart from the interior all faded away as she looked into his face. "Hold onto me, beloved," she murmured, and kissed him with soulful passion.

The Power leapt into her body, overwhelming every sense she possessed and awakening those she never knew of for that one second. Past, present, and future collided in her mind as her body surged and snapped back. Yori gasped and fell onto the ground. A wail leapt from Ron's lips, and the tempest outside their column raged harder. The eddies around them surged and tripled, tearing into the floor at the light's edge. Whatever his problems, Yori had obviously made them worse.

Kim snarled, "That isn't how you get someone's attention in a fight!" Taking one step for momentum, she buried her foot in Ron's groin.

Ron doubled at the blow, his howl trailing off into a wide-eyed squeak. Clutching his wounded pride, he tilted and fell to the floor, totally immobile. The swirling light and wind around them died at once, leaving them at the mercy of the dying black cavern. Rubble rained from the ceiling. The floor split, widening into a chasm that began consuming Toshimiru's Temple at an alarming rate.

"Time to go!" Kim grunted and flipped Ron's deaden bulk over her shoulders in a fireman's carry. A massive wall of stone collapsed in front of her, forcing her to backpedal and circumnavigate through the cave. Her eyes struggled in the dim starlight funneled through the cave's tunnel entrance. Miraculously, none of the van-sized pieces of collapsing cave flattened her and her payload. A stone the size of a baseball did bounce off the top of her head, but she shook the blow off and kept stumbling forward. "Come on!"

The Temple's death throes rattled Yori to her core as she juked from side to side to avoid deadly, raining stalactite spears crushing into the floor. But her darting eyes couldn't spot an opening crack in the stone beneath her in time. Her nimble foot sank into the crevasse and twisted, forcing her ankle in a painful direction with a soggy snapping of bone. Yori's cry stopped Kim and turned the teen to the problem, but there wasn't time to go back. They had just seconds left to leave, and Yori wasn't going anywhere on her own."

Strong, gentle arms slid around Yori. She felt another body press against her side, and swiveled her head to see. Dark hair and luminous eyes shone in the pale light, filling her vision as a pair of soft lips pressed against her cheek. Something dropped into her arms, cradled by instinct though she couldn't see what it was. Before Yori could offer protest, Simia flipped her hard across the room with a hip through made perfect by decades of training. Yori flailed and bounced to a halt at Kim's feet. A quick shift of Ron's weight freed one of her arms, which then wrapped around Yori's waist and lifted her bodily.

"Tsuruko!" The image of her lost ninja faded into the black curtain of raining stone as Yori bounced away in Kim's grasp. The last she saw of the woman was a flash of her almond eyes before they vanished behind the collapsing ceiling. Powerless, Yori could only hold onto the things she had been given and offer silent thanks for the final gift of the woman once called Tsuruko, sometimes called Simia, and, despite her own words, always a sister to Yori.

Kim paid no mind to the mountain's agonized moans. Her broken wrist screamed at her with every bounce of Yori's body, and was summarily ignored. Her only goal ran through her head in a recursive loop; get out of the cave, get out of the cave, get out of the cave, get out of the cave. Her legs pumped, her lungs burned, her chest heaved her adrenaline surged, all through the deadly hail. Her body begged her to stop.

'Just make it to the tunnel,' her mind begged back.

They made it to the tunnel. Millions of tons of rock settled behind her with a deafening thunderclap and a blast of air that almost knocked Kim off her feet. She stumbled up the incline, listening to the tunnel ceiling crack and splintered above them. The entire shaft began to go the way of the Temple, pinching closed beneath tremendous pressure. Kim sprinted with her three hundred pound burden. Her body begged her to stop.

'Just to the opening,' pleaded her mind, 'Please.'

Swirling snow and starlight waited for her at the mouth of the tunnel. Summoning the last of her strength, Kim swung Yori up and over the top of the incline. The ninja skidded across the snow as Kim's body insisted, demanded, and declared that this was the end, that it had nothing left to give. Tapped out. Finito. That's all, folks.

Kim flat-out ignored her body. Her legs coiled and blasted her into the air, carrying her and Ron in an impossible leap through the closing jaws of the dying cave. One ultimate rumble escaped the clenched teeth of the Temple before it fell silent, never to speak again. Pebbles and boulders vomited from the collapsing tunnel, bombarding the teens with bruising bits in final retribution for their escape.

They lay in the snow a moment, unmoving, welcoming the numbing cold offered in the ground's swirling white blanket. Ron fell from Kim's shoulders in a heap, hardly stirring, his eyelids fluttering as he remained doubled over to best protect his damaged goods. The mystic chosen one became a brace for Kim to lean on as she favored her injuries and took long drags of frigid air.

Yori lifted her face from the snow to gaze upon her rescuer. To look at her, Yori could hardly believe that this eighteen year old marvel, a girl who couldn't have been ten pounds over a hundred when soaking wet, had somehow hauled them over a hundred yards with severe blood loss, twisted ankles, and a broken wrist that had borne Yori herself for the journey. 'She can do anything,' Ron's voice reminded her from the hazy depths of her memory. That phrase hadn't been anything but an empty boast until this moment. Now, it seemed wholly inadequate. "We are alive."

"So not the drama," moaned Kim as she touched gingerly at her swelling wrist. Dissatisfied with that, she moved on to Ron, taking quick check of his pulse. "Being alive is nothing. It's when you aren't that you have to start worrying." Despite everything that had happened to them, a tiny smirk entered her lips as she glanced back at Yori. Small though it was, the gesture shocked Yori, who found herself returning it. "We'd better find a way off this mountain, though, or we won't be alive for long.

Already, the nipping cold began sapping Yori's strength. "Agreed." She tried to stand, but felt a weight in her arms keeping her on the ground. Glancing down, she witnessed the other two survivors of the Temple's collapse, a legacy clutched tightly to her chest. The dull red eyes of the Idol gazed back up at her, glaring ineffectually at its chariot. The scratched silvery surface of the Lotus Blade lay across its jade egg, reflecting the spark of despair in Yori's eyes which the cold could not smother. Tossing aside years of ceremony, Yori grasped the forbidden Blade and pushed it into the snowy ground, using it like a crutch for her broken ankle.

Kim saw the Idol as she groaned her way to her feet, tugging at Ron's arm. "We've got a Blade, an Idol, and all members of Team Possible are accounted for. I think that's about as close to a victory as we're going to get." Ron returned to her weary shoulders, and she added, "So let's call it a day."

"Yes," Yori muttered to herself, taking one last look at Simia's sealed and sacred tomb. "We win…" The world would continue to turn, without the influence of any insane despots. Under the circumstances, she would allow herself no room for complaint. But there was something she had to say. "Kimberly-san," she called. The hero stopped and turned, wearing a questioning look at Yori's somber tenor. "That," Yori told her, "Was a brilliant plan."

Kim's smile, slicked with blood and missing a few teeth, shone brighter than the moonlight reflected off of the majestic mountains around them, bright enough to light their way and chase all doubt from Yori's mind. "Told you," she said with a hint of smug. "Hindsight."

To Be Concluded


I really busted my hump on this one, guys. I hope you enjoyed it. Just one more chapter to wrap up a few loose ends, and maybe make a couple more while I'm at it. It'll be out as soon as I can write it, I promise. Until then, faithful reader, stay tuned, because the best is definitely on its way!

Also, anyone who catches and identifiesmy Dragonsphere Q reference (and no, not the fact that it's an obvious reference to the Dragonball series) by the time the last chapter comes out will be honored by way of mention. It's pretty damn obscure, but I'll give you a hint; only longtime fans or someone quick on reading backlogs will get it.