Author's note: Whoa. I haven't written such a long chapter in ages. How nice. But it makes the coming ones seem almost pathetic since they'll be so much shorter… oh well. I'll just take this moment to wave my hand and tip my hat to Demyrie, who's keeping me on my toes with her excellent writing. I think I'll try Jak/Daxter sometime. They're cute! I think there are some vibes of that in this chapter, actually… I'm positively high on the J/D. Poor Keira.

Also, roses and hugs to all my reviewers. I love ya! Promise I'll churn out chapters at a faster rate now. Just gonna torture you with a little patience practices first… muhahaha. Hate me.

Chapter 4, Into the darkness

Blue guards were running about across the cracked streets of the slums, hurriedly packing the last of their gear into the armed hovers that would bring them through the metal head tunnel. Jak had hardly gotten off his zoomer before a shout directed him to the hellcat cruiser parked in the front. Lightly waving a hand he headed closer to it, returning the gaze of the man in the driver's seat. The other seat was already taken by a heavy-fire BG morphgun.

"I hope you're all set, Jak, because if anything goes wrong here I'll skin you alive," Torn said.

"Oh, thanks for the warm greeting," Daxter said, sourly crossing his arms, "that really puts me into the right mood."

"I'm always set," Jak said.

He easily climbed onto the back of the cruiser and sat down on the seat behind the waiting cannon. As soon as he was in position he gave Torn a thumbs up. The commander nodded and reached for the engine key of the vehicle, when something else Jak said made him glance over his shoulder again.

"Just tell me if you see any dead flowers."

There was a pause.

"Care to elaborate on why you're wasting time on the local wildlife?" Torn asked.

"Just something Onin said."

"Huh."

Shrugging, Torn started up the engine of the cruiser, and it obediently rose from the ground.

"Head out!" he called above the steady buzz.

"Yessir!" came a choir of men's voices from behind.

More engines started up, following Torn as he steered the hellcat sharply upwards and then down again in a wide arc, masterfully maneuvering the vehicle into the large hole in the middle of the street and into the dusk.

Jak made sure that he had a good grip of the control handles of the canon before he leant back and prepared for a few hours of monsters, violence, aggravation and smirks.

Three hours later the body count of metal heads had reached almost fifty, the damages of the cruisers were at a minimum, Torn had threatened Daxter with bodily harm fourteen times and waved his dagger at the ottsel twice.

All in all, things were going smoothly.

Almost too smoothly. And that did not include the fact that Daxter still had not reached his minimum quota of snarls from the commander for the timeframe.

"Should there normally be so few metal heads around in their own lairs?" Torn asked at one point, without looking around.

Jak shook his head automatically, even if the asking one could not see it.

"They normally protect every last inch of their lairs like crazy," he said, "I was wondering about that last time we were down here."

"I don't like it."

"Well this place is huge!" Daxter pointed out, "maybe they're…"

"… assembling further ahead," Jak finished.

Daxter's ears perked up violently before falling down, tightly pressed against his head.

"Meep…" he mumbled and dove for cover behind Jak's head.

"Just beautiful…" Torn muttered.

He pursed his mouth and glared at the tunnel ahead. Strange, glowing moss cast an eerie light across the underground world, but it was not strong enough to make the dusk go away completely. Beyond the reach of the cruiser's headlights, a stubborn darkness stretched out.

On the other hand, there were a few advantages offered by the bad illumination.

Torn's ears twitched as he saw a speck of yellow in the darkness, a moving flare of dirty light coming closer with mighty leaps. A shot rang out before the commander even had time to raise his hand in a signal, and he threw a glance over his shoulder. Jak grinned, a cackling ottsel perched on his shoulder.

"I'm so proud, he's taken all my lessons to heart," Daxter said, patting the tanned temple beside his own fuzzy ear.

While he did roll his eyes, Jak's grin did not waver. Shaking his head, Torn returned to the path in front of them. He was not about to hand out even the smallest splinters of praise, even if there might be a little reason for it.

Just a little.

Five death threats later, Torn gave the cussing at Daxter a rest and turned his head to look at Jak instead.

"It's getting warmer," the commander said.

Tilting his face upwards a little, Jak sniffed the air. Burnt. A quick lick of his lips, and he felt the taste matching the smell.

"We're closing in," he concluded, and bent his head slightly to make it easier for Daxter to hide.

Mere minutes after this statement they spotted the faint glow ahead, the light at the end of the tunnel. Not that it promised any good things – well, apart from giving Torn one less reason to kill Daxter. For now.

Torn reached for the command board of the hellcat and unhooked the microphone connected to the radio. Pushing the big red button, he lifted the square-shaped item to his face.

"Attention, we seem to be nearing the end of the path. Be prepared for possible counterattacks."

A few positive replies followed each other through the speakers.

Jak absentmindedly reached for his morph gun as the light came closer and closer, tapping at the familiar frame with his fingertips. In the same movement he swept his hand up and checked for the extra gun he had gotten from Keira. From what he could tell the scarf hid it perfectly.

Bring it on.

Soon enough the glow ahead became an opening at the end of the tunnel, and the closer they came Jak realized that the view on the other side looked familiar.

Torn eyed what remained of the tunnel, only about sixty paces. He grabbed the microphone again.

"Prepare for halt!"

"Yessir!" came a choir from the radio.

The caravan slowed down and soon touched ground, only twenty paces from the edge.

Jak squinted ahead, studying the series of ledges illuminated from below by a red blaze. There was quite a distance between their side and the area he looked at, but he was still certain that he had seen it before.

Yep, no doubt about it. He leant forwards, looking at the back of Torn's head.

"It's the great volcano, in the wasteland," Jak said.

"You sure?" Torn asked without moving.

"Yes."

"Hmph."

Torn swung himself out of the still buzzing hellcat while Jak slid down the back of the same and onto the ground. Not for a moment did Daxter move from the remotely safe shoulder.

Only pausing for a moment, Torn grabbed the gun lying on the other seat of the cruiser. A few powerful strides brought him into sight of the disembarking soldiers, pebbles and sand crunching below his boots. He spun towards them on his heel, gun resting on his shoulder and the free fist on his waist. The scene was topped off with the red illumination from the area behind him giving the brown dreadlocks a crimson glow.

"Like a poker," Daxter muttered, leaning his chin in a paw, "suits his personality."

He was probably lucky that only Jak heard it, because the soldiers seemed far more impressed with their commander's strict appearance. Hard boots clacked into each other as the Blue Guards leapt into saluting stances. Torn nodded, then raised his free hand. His voice whipped through the air.

"Group one and two, follow me! The rest of you stay here!"

"Yessir!"

As he turned around again, Torn threw a glance towards Jak and made a commanding motion with his hand.

You too.

Jak simply shrugged and followed the leading man, a mighty trample of feet moving behind them.

"We're just going to take a look, but be prepared for anything," the commander clarified.

A choir of drilled voices answered him with another "Yessir".

Daxter opened his mouth, but closed it again after a warning glance from Jak. It was just too easy.

As soon as Torn moved the gun from his shoulder and into a more prepared position, metal clattered against armor as the soldiers mimicked his movements. Jak followed suit, though more casually than the others.

But even his green eyebrows twitched when he stepped up to the edge and took a proper look at the area beneath.

Metal heads.

Well, that was not such a surprise. The surprise was the amount.

"Okay, whoever's on the cloning machine is fired!" Daxter declared and dove into Jak's hair.

Dark bodies littered the ledges on the other side of the lava pool, skull gems competing with the firelight in their dirty illumination. There had to be at least three hundred of them. The laid-back snarls could be heard even from this distance.

From the opening where the elves stood, a clumsy "stair" went down to another hole in the wall a little ways below. From the look of it, the steep ledge had been carved out of the wall by the metal heads – claw marks littered the stone and it was actually more of an open tunnel. At least, it seemed like no monsters were on their way up there.

"Looks like an invitation, if you ask me," Jak muttered to Torn.

"I don't like it."

They both scanned the area for another moment, eyes steadily narrowing. Finally, the commander turned to his troops, who all straightened up like a band of marionettes.

"You stay here and keep those things out of here until further notice," Torn said, two fingers cutting at the air before the nearest masks.

"Understood, Sir."

They made way for their leader as he stepped forwards, motioning at Jak to follow again.

"Sheesh! Make up your mind already…" Daxter grunted from the safety behind his friend's blond burr.

Torn ignored him. Even as he walked he began motioning at the troops still stationed by the cruisers.

"Move your asses! I want group three guarding our back, group one and two are staying at the entrance, extras set up the equipment. Jak-"

He looked over his shoulder, but kept walking. In the area before him the remaining soldiers scurried to follow the orders.

"Let's see if your map's any good."

He led the blond warrior over to where a Blue Guard was flicking away at the portable com-center hefted onto one of the hovers. The front of the helmet turned towards Torn and Jak as the two elves stepped closer.

"I'm sure it's the great volcano," the blonde said and waved at the computer, "try code J-WL03."

"Understood, Sir," the Blue Guard said.

The tips of his gloves drummed against the keyboard, and with a blip the big screen in front of him flared up with green lines.

"Position confirmed, commander."

The soldier turned the screen slightly, pointing at a pulsating emerald dot on the left side of it. Jak nodded when he saw the familiar map and the affirmation that they were just outside of the information he had provided the central server in Haven.

"You want the wastelanders here?" he asked, turning to Torn.

Even though he did not look completely happy about this, the commander pursed his lips and nodded.

"Ah, now we're talkin'!" Daxter said, sounding quite relieved.

He answered to Torn's glare with a grin. Even if the ottsel might not be so hot about most of the ruffians, he knew to appreciate their battle abilities. Strong allies means less to worry about. Strong allies is Good Thing.

Jak was already dialing on his communicator when Torn and Daxter had worked their way through another tiny part of the private war.

From the speed of the reply, it seemed like the man on the other end of the line had been waiting for the call. The familiar face popped onto the screen almost before Jak had hit the last button.

"There you are!" Sig said, "how's the hunt?"

"We seem to be in the volcano, southwestern side according to the map," Jak replied, "the place is crawling with metal heads."

The dark-skinned fellow on the line nodded, a small grin creeping onto his lips. The blonde watching this mirrored the face.

"On our way, then. Over and out."

Sig's face disappeared from the screen, being replaced by blankness.

A hand on his wrist stopped Jak as he was about to put the piece of machinery away again.

"Hand him your communicator for a sec," Torn told the blonde, motioning at the soldier.

The order was a bit surprising, but with a shrug the hero did as he was told. The Blue Guard quickly hooked the smaller piece of technology to the bigger with a cable, and began dialing away at both sets of keyboards separately. Meanwhile, Torn leaned in a little closer.

"Okay, here's the deal," he said, "we're gonna need somebody to scout the area."

"Hooboy! So now we're appetizers?" Daxter complained.

"Exactly," Torn agreed, shooting a smirk at the orange wonder.

In the background, the Guard pulled the communicator free from the cable and experimentally pushed a couple of its buttons. The screen before him lit up, and he turned back to the people on the ground.

"All set, Sir," he said and offered Jak the small piece of equipment back.

"What now?" the blond fellow asked.

He peered at the dark screen and board of numbers. Nothing seemed to have changed.

"I want you to take a quick look around," Torn clarified, "without going blasting off on your own."

He tapped a fingertip against the side of the communicator.

"We just had a quick pick installed on this piece of crap," he said, "if you run into anything that you need to report, anything at all, Jak, you just push square, one, and you'll be linked straight back here."

Jak experimentally pushed down at the set buttons, and the screen set atop the hover sparkled up again. The Blue Guard turned to it and made a thumbs up, the same figure and movement being displayed on the small screen in Jak's hand.

"Cool, useful technology for once!" Daxter said, pumping his fists into the air in a mocked dance of victory, "news at eleven, read all about it! Something around here works!"

With a mild roll of his eyes and shake of his head Jak turned towards the entrance to the volcano, taking the morph gun from his back while he walked.

"You got me, Jak?" Torn sharply said, "be careful. You're not alone on this one."

"Yeah, yeah..."

Jak gave a wave over his shoulder and passed through the group of Blue Guards standing by the hole. He pulled the morph gun from its holster and set it to Beam Reflexor before heading down the offered path.

Throwing a glance across the distance to the other side, he once again had to conclude that it was too far to snipe. It seemed like none of the monsters had spotted him yet, either. On the other hand he had concluded a long time ago that the metal heads' eyesight overall seemed to be quite bad. Only those specializing in ranged attacks tended to spot him on a longer distance.

For a moment he played with the thought of simply flying over there, but cast it aside. Torn expected him to find a way that would suit everyone.

He slowed down halfway down the path, and moved up with his back against the rounded wall. As he continued further downwards he strained his ears to the outmost. No snarls seemed to be coming from the opening ahead. However, he did pick up on another sound.

"You okay?" he whispered, giving Daxter a light push with his cheek.

The ottsel gulped and nodded. Pressing a paw against his fuzzy chest he tried to command his heart to slow down a few notches. But there was something in the air, something that tried to inform his sixth animal sense that there was something very, very bad ahead in the near future.

"Don't worry, just help me look out for dead flowers," Jak said, "okay?"

He grinned, trying to encourage the nervous chuckle that Daxter managed to produce.

"Right, then let's rock."

Jak slid the last few feet down to the opening. He leant forwards to peek around the corner, grabbing and holding back the long ear that threatened to make him far more visible than he desired.

The light from the lava and dulled sunlight from above only reached a few yards inside, and after that blackness claimed the crown of the path. Jak straightened up and aimed his gun at the inner wall. The silencer took out the worst bang, and the bullet smashed into the rock, bounced and continued into the tunnel like a speck of crazed light. Jak followed its flight with his gaze, taking note of when the bullet suddenly disappeared. Corner.

Even if he could no longer see the projectile he could still hear it, the echo multiplying the tiny pings of metal against rock. After only a few more moments it stopped, however – not even with such advanced technology could the bullet continue defying the laws of nature forever. From the sound of it there had been nothing living hit, though. Might just be luck.

Ears twitching, Jak slipped into the tunnel with his morph gun ready to fire at the slightest sound. Darkness swallowed him and the ottsel perched on his shoulder, the laser eye of the gun marking the turn of the cave with a red dot on the wall ahead of them. Even the speck of color did not summon any snarls of approaching beasts.

The dusk ruled, but only for a few steps. As he neared the turning point, Jak's eyes had already begun to grow accustomed to the dusk. Careless instincts urged him to move faster, to face off his enemies like they faced him – equally brutal. They were ruthless, he needed to be even more so if he hoped to live. But no. No…

"Patience is a warrior's greatest weapon. Do you understand?"

The memory was stronger. Jak closed his eyes for a moment, taking in a deep breath. The dam of bleak images swirled in the back of his mind, stirred by the defiant act of touching a light memory – but he wrestled them back down. Above all that darkness, there were other things, things he would rather call back and keep safe from the mad rush of locked up agony. If he could only hold on to those, they could protect him from the rest.

Stern eyes trying not to give away concern, my words stirred something in him too, suits him right – light slipping from eyes, body slumping- no! There was a hand on my shoulder once, just once-

Another deep breath and he was fine again. Just holding on to the memory of fingers grazing the torn remain of cloth on his shoulder, rough thumb briefly touching skin – skin of the same skin. Then he could live with himself for another while, even though the darker taint of the past shook its filthy tentacles in his mind.

The corners of his lips tilted upwards slightly as he felt a fuzzy little shoulder bouncing against his long earlobe. Daxter had noticed the change and would pull Jak's blonde hair if needed to bring him back in gear.

"No sweat," Jak whispered.

"That's good to know, buddy boy, 'cause I'm getting soaked in that, myself. And with fur, that ain't cool."

"Then shouldn't you be letting your tongue hang or something, instead?"

The elf smirked at the snort in the blackness.

"Oh fun, ha, ha," Daxter grunted.

The shoulder disappeared from the ear; Jak could easily envision the stick-arms crossing beneath the pout. He had seen it a million times, and knew what came next. And it did.

"First, I'm no crocadog. Second, I'm already burning up and itchy, I ain't hot on getting my mouth full of sulfur, pal. You try it first."

Moving his head to the side, Jak gave the ottsel another light puff with the side of his head.

"Shall we get this over with, then?" the blonde said.

"Gladly!"

Jak smirked at the darkness and stepped around the corner, holding one hand to the shadow of the wall to orient himself. A few more steps and…

His fingers and palm met empty air. Steps echoed louder than before – he could both hear and feel the tunnel cutting off into a bigger cave.

What service.

His ears twitched in the next moment, because there was another sound mingling with the echo of his boot on the ground. The scraping of claws on rock, and snarling breaths sniffing at the air.

When eyesight is bad, creatures do tend to work better with nose and ears, such is nature's way. And somewhere in the dark were some creatures obeying that rule.

Daxter eeped. The snarling turned into outright growling, and the scraping intensified. They must have noticed the red light now as well, even if Jak quickly had moved his hand to block it.

Scratch "some" in that "creatures". Skull gems by the dozen tumbled from the void ahead, ground level and far above, diving onto the cave floor with the heavy crash of armored bodies making use of gravity. Their lazy glow only faintly illuminated the beady eyes below, and their hunger.

Jak never hesitated on what to do – only which one of the two paths to take. The morph gun flew to its holster and he took a cautious step back. He could have set the gun to Arc Wielder, but the radical transformation would have demanded at least five seconds he did not have.

Light or dark?

Once the darkness would have roared to be let out, but not now. The two sides warbled equally, both calling to his mind and keeping each other from forcing their way through.

The metal heads hurled themselves forwards, hoarse roars ringing through the thick air. There was no time to think- time. So be it.

Jak merely nodded his mind in the right direction, and a tingle ran through his entire body. The onslaught coming towards him seemed to calm, slowing to a lazy slump forwards.

Changing into his Light self had no relation to the plunging into the Dark – that should be no surprise. Where dark eco filled up his head with thick muck as it spread across his skin, the light slipped through him in a pleasant caress, clearing everything except the focus on what laid ahead.

He spun forwards, fist connecting with the black face of the first beast. It grunted and fell back, to his eyes in slow motion. They were all too slow, falling to such easy means as his bare fists. So much like the lurkers, a lifetime ago – things were simple then… things were simple now, if only for a brief time.

His own light shed knowledge of the cavern, illuminating the sluggish metal heads struggling to counter his all too quick attacks. He briefly took note of the smaller caves they had been hiding in, ledges far above as well. It had been a trap? Huh. For who, eh?

If he had just been the slightest bit romantic, Jak might have felt inclined to call the unfair battle a dance. But he saw the gore; crushed skulls and broken bones soon littering the floor as the flesh evaporated in dark eco. Better they than him and Daxter. Never the partners, never.

In all probability it was over far sooner than he thought. The last dying snarl sped up to a normal gasp as he touched down and the light beaming from his entire being fading into obscurity again. Jak stumbled forwards, leaning against the invisible cave wall and gasping for air for a short while. It was always easy until he stopped moving.

"Hah! Up yours, losers!" Daxter's voice jabbed at the unseen remains.

Easy to be tough in the face of stuff that just lost all ability to return the favor. Jak felt his lips twitch again.

Straightening up, he pulled out the morph gun again. For a moment he debated with himself, but finally let the last mod remain. During the battle he had taken note of another tunnel opening up on the other end of the cavern; that was the next step on the way and he felt safer sending in a bouncing bullet first.

He stood still, waiting for his eyes to pick up on the illumination of the discarded skull gems. There were no time to collect them, and he did not really care. They did work fine to shed a little light, though.

As soon as he could see well enough to spot the tunnel again he moved forwards. A few quick strides brought him up to the new path and he raised the gun to fire at the wall.

Bam. Ting-ting-ting-ting, ting, ting… ting…

Nothing. Except Daxter's nervous gulp as his transportation continued forwards, into the darkness again.

Somewhere in the back of his head Jak mused on the fact that he was a lousy scout. Those were not really supposed to clean everything out on their own, now were they? Oh well… he would just continue a little bit further, then he would make Torn happy – well, something along those lines – by coming back to bring the rest of the troop into the battle.

Bah. It was definitely not his style. But this time he had no gun of Mar to blast a path open. Might want to consider fixing that whenever he went back and started messing up the past… ugh. Jak cut the thoughts off before he got himself dizzy trying to figure out his role in the timeline again. Whatever happened, he would just deal with it when some freak accident or whatever it would be threw him there. Daxter and Keira better hang on when that "time came", though. He was fed up with separations.

He shook it off and looked at the void ahead. The skull gems did not reach this far, but he could not carry one and at the same time hold his gun properly. Daxter could not help with that either – the gems were too big for him.

And so, the hero ventured through the darkness, leaning one arm against the wall and moving slowly in case there would be holes in the ground. Minutes passed without anything happening, and Jak began to realize that he might be moving far further than he had counted on.

The theory was proven as he finally saw a light ahead and soon stepped onto a ledge sticking out of the volcano's wall. The heat picked up further as he left the tunnel, and the lava pit spread out far beneath. Jak squinted, and saw a speck of blue against all the red, black and brown on the other side of the hot expanse of air. The tunnel actually led to the other side of the volcano.

He looked up. Uneven platforms and sturdy vines, braving the intense heat of the fire. The snarls were louder now. Far up there, he knew there would be a plateau, with the petrified remains of an unlucky monk. Where the Dark Maker satellite had crashed.

Sounded ideal, really. Hmm…

Jak weighed back and forth on his heels a couple of times.

Oh, what the hell.

He expected Daxter to start protesting as the blonde set his eyes on the nearest ledge, just a leap of a couple of feet away… but the ottsel remained quiet, clenching his white teeth tightly against each other in tense silence. Something dark and muscular turned around a couple of leaps ahead, and dashed towards them with a vicious roar.

"Not that much farther, promise," Jak assured Daxter, and took aim.

"Yeah, sure big guy…"

Daxter knew his pal, but promised himself to talk him out of going too far alone. Even if they surely could beat even a new metal head leader up on their own, it would be way, way more scary to explain that to Torn afterwards. Tattooed wonder would probably bust a vessel, but not before biting off a couple of heads.

Such was the plan, until Jak clambered onto that big ledge and was spotted by a larger group of big metal heads. They were far away, but unlike the last three attacks they were on the same level and would not have to waste time leaping across spans of empty, distracting air.

Jak had already seen them before getting onto the same level, and had already prepared the morph gun by setting it to Peace Maker. He raised his firearm calmly, a movement done thousands of times, pulled the trigger…

Light flared from the barrel, the angry hissing rising in strength as it built up power. When it was almost unbearable and the metal heads starting to get dangerously close Jak released the trigger-

Everything happened so quickly after that.

The shot cracked through the air and exploded straight in the face of the leading beast, the force of it taking out the ones behind the first one – but at the same time the powerful recoil sent Jak stumbling half a step backwards and his sole crashed down on the dense length of a fire vine.

A surprised shout rose up in his throat, the morph gun falling out of his flailing hand as he clutched the air for balance, and with the lost weight he also lost that which he desperately struggled to keep. He stumbled another step, Daxter's frightened screech filling his ears as the ledge suddenly disappeared beneath both of them.

Something dark flashed by and Jak grabbed it as he fell, pain shooting through his arms from the brutal pull. His weight and momentum ripped him downwards but he held the vine, even when his skin was torn up against the rough plant. But he held it, and the fall stopped.

He swung dangerously for a few seconds, until gravity took control of the tortured vine.

Yes, gentle readers, that was how Jak ended up in that situation. That situation where the metal head found him and cut the vine, sending him plunging towards his death in the lava.

About two hours after that event, Jak would wish that he had died in the molten rock. But, we're not quite there yet, now are we? Let us take things in the chronological order from now on.