Hello again folks. Normally, it would take me a little longer for an update, especially when the chapters 6000 or so words. However, I got a bit of inspiration, and thigns flowed a little more smoothly than they normally do. I would also like to say that this chapter is dedicated to Lunatic Pandora1, for the patience that he has shown waiting for our hero's inner demon to make his return, with special thanks going to Evil Manic for a morph-gun mod that will make its first appearance in this chapter.

Now, shout outs.

Light Eco Sage- I'm glad you liked it. I was attempting to make that part a little more realistic than it was in the game. Let's face it, even as old and scrawny as he is, I think it would be within Vin's abilities to open his little command room door, run like hell for all of five feet, and dive through the warp portal to safety. Granted, there were Metal Heads all over the place, but I think that would have just served as a healthy motivation for him to move it.

Something Stupid- Well, the reason I gave him the ability to heal like that was because the way I see it, Baron Praxis was attempting to create a small army of super soldiers. Now, I am not a military genius by any standards, but if I were in Praxis' position, I think that one of the greatest advantages troops could have would be the ability to heal on the battlefield. But I might be wrong. At any rate, thanks for the input, and I am glad that you enjoyed the Dark Eco bleeding at least. (bows politely).

Lunatic Pandora1- I honestly don't know if Jak will actually be absorbing a lot of Dark Eco in the story, for reasons that will be explained later. However, I can tell you that there is something that will be doing that, and Jak will be using it.

TUG- I feel honored that you have taken the time to leave me such a lengthy review when you stated yourself that you rarely read this kind of work. It is for that reason, that I feel that I must warn you that D.J. will eventually gain a persona all his own. However, I can sympathize with you to some degree. It is not so much that people always put him as a seperate individual that always gets on my nerves, but that he is always the same thing, no offense meant to any other authors out there. Every story I have ever read about him, with one or two notable exceptions, always portray him as a creature that is driven by hatred and a slave to bloodlust. Despite his fearsome appearance, I honestly don't think that he would be that way. In this story, I've decided that he would start out as something that is like an animal, driven by his insticts, but he'll eventually learn and evolve into something more, something sentient and intelligent. Sorry, I'm rambling again. As for what else you mentioned, I will tell you that Jak will eventually have to confront and come to terms with his own hatred, and have to try and balance himself spiritually and emotionally, so hopefully that will make it worth your while. If it doesn't and you decide to stop reading this, then I am sorry that I have wasted you time. (bows).

Legal mumbo jumbo- I own absolutly nothing of this franchise, if I did, there is a high probablility this stuff would have been in the trilogy.

&

By Demons Be Driven

Daxter was cowering.

That in itself was nothing new, as the Ottsel did it so often as to practically have it down to an art form. However, this time, it was actually Jak he was cowering from, or at least, cowering from what he feared Jak was about to do.

Neither of their days had been very good. Ever since he had bailed Vin and company out back at the strip mine three weeks ago, Lady Luck seemed to have said her goodbyes to the duo. From high stress guerilla attacks, to blockade running, to sabotage missions, Torn seemed to have come to think of Jak as an army of one. Not helping this was the fact that winter was encroaching rabidly upon Haven, and having to sit on a cliff top, for hours on end, freezing his rear end off waiting for a supply truck to hijack was certainly not helping the dark elf's disposition.

But today, well, technically yesterday, had been just one of those days. It had all started when Krew had "asked" for his newest employee to come over for a "business proposal", and things had pretty much gone downhill from there.

The automatic doors slid open with a hiss as the eco infused elf stepped inside the Hip Hog. Almost before he could react, the hover unit had descended upon them, and Jak's inner creature tried to fathom how something so fat was able to move, let alone fly. The Goodyear blimp of a man greeted the dark elf with a smile on his hideous face.

"Ahhh, Jak, a timely arrival." Krew said in his usual, semi-sinister tone.

"You said you had a job for us," Jak said, wanting to get this over with as quickly as he possibly could.

"As a matter of fact, I do." the bar owner said, smiling even wider. "You see, Jak, racing is the biggest sport in this city, it let's the people forget about their many troubles and personal problems, brings Haven together, and all that other good stuff. It's also a major generator of profits as far as gambling is concerned." He said, rubbing his hands together greedily. "As of now, Commander Errol is the undisputed Grand Champion."

Krew stopped abruptly when he looked back at Jak. The young man's every feature was twisted in hatred, and his eyes looked like twin glaciers. So there was something between Praxis' right hand elf and this Underground warrior, so much the better.

"It is a dangerous sport, and accidents, even death, can be quite common. The reason that I called you here today, is because of one of these accidents. You recall that I told you of the woman who supplied us…your freedom movement, with all of those morph-guns?" Krew asked.

"Yeah, what about her." the former Channeler inquired.

"She runs a racing team on the side, to keep up the front of a legitimate business, and she's quite a mechanic as well. Unfortunately, she's hit a bit of bad luck of late. You see, her driver had a bit of a mishap on the track." he glanced back at the Underground fighter for a second, and realized the intense glare that Jak was giving him. "You can stop looking at me like that, I had nothing to do with it.

"Anyways, I would like to send her my condolences in the form of a suitable replacement. And, after what you did to get my payment to me, plus your apparently "vampiric" reflexes, as Sig put it, my first choice was you, quite naturally."

"So, you basically want me to go over there and "convince" her that another partnership with you would be in her best interests." Jak inquired with a frown.

"No, Jak, you see, the racers make a significant amount of money on their own and, well…look at your contract," he said, handing Jak several pieces of paper.

Daxter quickly snatched them from his taller compatriot, and looked over them.

"We the racers hereby agree to give Krew all proceedings earned from race winnings, sponsorship dealings, mall appearances, use of likeness rights, broadcast royalties, syndication residuals, talk show appearances, clothing lines, fast food tie-ins, books dealings including but not limited too: novella, comic, artistic impressions, neon signs, and bathroom graffiti designs…" the ottsel inhaled deeply, flipping a page. "Toy deals, shoe lines, mood rings, game rights…game rights," Daxter said, disbelievingly, before continuing, "vitamin endorsements, city kickbacks, and of course, all death and dismemberment accident insurance claims." the Ottsel finished, breathing deeply.

"We can work out the details later if you would like." Krew said with a smug grin on his piggish face.

Jak just shook his head, grabbed the contract, and headed back outside.

Next to the Fortress and the Palace itself, the Haven City Stadium was easily the largest structure within in the metropolis. It was starkly different from the rest of the polluted and run down city that he'd seen for the most part. Statues, carved with such masterful care, and the carefully tended gardens located around the entrance walkways made it seem as if this was some sort of Precursor ruin that nature had not yet claimed. Daxter was also impressed, though the flowers had made him sneeze.

People milled about, talking about the latest news, gossip, or in some cases, just talking about the races. Over to his left, he could see a group of people about his age were fooling around, playing with hover boards, and generally just being teenagers. Seeing them caused a minute crack to appear in the ice around which the dark elf had surrounded himself. They seemed so happy, so carefree. It brought back memories of his days in Sandover, when he too, had no worries. Back before Daxter had fallen into that pit of Dark Eco, before his first quest, and before he had crash landed in this war torn abyss.

Sighing bitterly, the former Channeler started making his way towards the garage area. When he arrived it looked just as he had expected it to. Broken zoomers, some civilian, some racer craft, and others that he assumed had been vehicles at one point it time, as they were now mangled blocks of scrap, were all over the place. He stepped inside, his glowing blue eyes searching for the person he was supposed to meet with. Movement from behind a large green curtain off to one side caught his attention, and he cleared his throat to speak.

"Hello? Krew said someone was looking for a race driver?" he asked.

"Ugh! Has that Jabba the Hutt wanna-be been putting words in my mouth again?" a feminine voice cried out in frustration. "Look, I've told him before; I don't want any of his drivers racing for me."

"Well, is there anything that we can do to help?" Jak said, scratching the back of his head, perhaps if he got on good terms with this girl, he'd be able to acquire some new weaponry without having to go through sir lard-a-lot.

"No! I'm, uh, working on a secret, vehicle project, err, yeah." the girl said nervously, while Jak and Daxter exchanged some incredulous glances, glacing back at the curtain when the girl continued. "Look, I don't mean to be rude, but I don't need any more drivers right now, and don't you have someone to, you know, go collect money from or something?"

"You don't like us, do you?" Jak asked.

"You work for that slime-ball, Krew, what's not to like?" she said, sarcasm overly obvious in her voice.

"Look's like you've won quite a few races." Jak said as he looked at the trophies on the wall, trying to steer the conversation away from that loaded topic.

"Yeah, I have." the girl said, and this time a note of pride could be detected.

"You wouldn't happen to know how a guy like me could get into the palace?" he inquired, it was a long shot, but it certainly couldn't hurt at all.

"Why? You want the Baron's autograph or something?" She growled, her tone laced with enough venom to kill.

"Yeah, preferably signed in blood." Jak said; his voice at absolute zero.

"Look, I'll tell you what I know if you promise to go away and leave me alone." the mechanic responded, her tone a little warmer now that he had displayed his intense hatred for the tyrant.

"Deal." he told her.

"All I know is that the palace support towers have some old elevator shafts running up them, if you could find a way to juice em up, you might be able to get in." She told him as Jak heard a blowtorch ignite.

"Thanks." Jak told her, and true to his word, pivoted on his heel, and left the garage.

That had been about the only good thing to happen, learning of a way to strike back against the Baron.

He had not gone far when his comm. went off. Pulling it out, and placing against his ear, he was rewarded by hearing Krew's voice on the other end.

"Well? How did it go, ey?" the gang boss inquired.

"She doesn't want us racing for her, no ifs, ands, or buts about it." Jak replied calmly.

"Blast!" Krew exclaimed, before calming himself. "Oh, well, you can't win em all, I guess. In any event, I do happen to have another job for you."

"Which would be?" the eco infused elf asked while massaging his forehead.

"The sewers were a fabulous smuggling route for me, that is, until Baron Praxis installed security devices…" Krew began.

"Could you get to the point already? Just tell us who or what we have to shake down, knock out, or blow up." Jak said, stopping Krew before the blob could launch into another wave of melodramatics.

"Very well, I want you to mosey on down there and eliminate all of the security turrets located within. There are four of them, and if I recall correctly, are guidied by motion sensors. Take them out, and I'll give you a sweet weapon upgrade, ey." Krew said, and Jak knew that he was smiling. "I'll download a map of the sewers to your comm. It'll show you where each gun is located."

"Let me guess," Daxter interrupted, "dank, murky water?"

"Aye."

"Reeks worse than your breath at an oyster fest?" Daxter said, voice dripping in sarcasm.

Krew growled over the comm. unit, but the Ottsel continued, undeterred by the mobster's anger.

"Fuller of Metal Heads than your plate at a one pass buffet?"

The growl increased in volume.

"And, of course, weapons more lethal than your ever so tighty whities, on a hot summer day? Here's an idea, lard butt, why don't we float around looking hot and heavy, and you go rotor route the pipes!" Daxter shouted, spit going everywhere.

Jak snatched the comm. unit away from his mutated friend before he succeeded in pushing Krew over the edge. Sighing, he apologized to his "boss", and headed for a back alley, where one could usually find manholes and other such entrances.

That had been twenty hours of sheer, unadulterated hell. Every one of Daxter's predictions had been right, and on two occasions, Jak had nearly been shot by the damn things, and a triple slash mark in his tunic, rimmed by minute Dark Eco stains, marked where a zealous Grunt had gotten a little friendly. Not helping was the fact that there had been a heavy amount of interference, so his map had done him precious little good.

Once it was finally done and they were smelling "worse than wet hip-hog in a warm barn", as Dax had put it, Krew had come through on his part, giving them a mod that reduced the kick of the scatter-gun, and another that gave Jak's magnum an optional suppressor for when he wanted stealth at the price of stopping power.

Neither of them thought they had been worth it.

By this point in time, the two of them had been awake for somewhere in the neighborhood of twenty seven hours, and both were eagerly looking forward to getting some well deserved shut-eye. Alas, Murphy's Law had chosen that exact moment to rear its head, and shatter yet another idealistic fantasy.

His comm. went off. Groaning in utter disbelief, Jak had brought it up to his ear, and flicked it on.

"Jak here." He muttered.

"Bout time I got an answer from you," Torn's voice growled over the other end, "I've been trying to get a hold of you for the past four hours."

"Dax and I have been doing a bit of a plumbing job for Krew." was Jak's exhausted reply.

"I see. Well I'm glad you're off shift right now, 'cause I've got an assignment that I need your help with." Torn remarked, earning him a death glare that he couldn't see.

"Please tell me this is your sick idea of a joke." Daxter piped up.

"Can it, rodent!" Torn shouted so loudly that Jak was surprised half the street hadn't heard him. "Look," the Underground commander replied in a calmer tone, "just meet me by the big drainage pipe, we'll talk more there."

Which led them up to where they were now. Daxter gulping fearfully at the look Jak was giving his dreadlocked superior, while the dark elf was entertaining some very realistic fantasies about sicing his inner demon upon Torn, much to the creature's apparent confusion.

"So what's this all about?" Jak asked his commander, barely keeping a snarl out of his voice .

"First things first." Torn replied, throwing a plastic wrapped item Jak's way.

Jak frowned as he recognized what it was- a stim pack. Sighing, he tore the cover off, assembled the hypodermic, and plunged the needle under his skin. Seconds later, his eyes widened slightly as the stimulant propelled him to full alertness.

"Now that you're wide awake, we can get down to business." the tattooed soldier said.

"Yeah, and for the record, I really, really, hate needles." Jak retorted.

"In any event," Torn said, ignoring Jak's complaint, "there's a friend of mine in the Guard who's out on patrol at the Pumping Station right now. But, contact was lost with the group a few hours ago, and after what you told me you ran into out there, I'm afraid she might need help."

"She?" Jak responded in disbelief, rage fading with a rare bit of amusement at the thought of Torn having a relationship like that.

"Don't even think about it." Torn growled back, confirming the former Channeler's thoughts. "Let's get moving."

And with those words, Torn drew a morph-gun, before switching it to a mode that Jak could only guess was some sort of assault rifle.

They cautiously made their way through the area, their eyes scanning in every direction, and Daxter looking behind them every step of the way. Jak held his blade up in one hand, and kept his magnum out in front of him with the other. His senses were alert, his enhanced vision taking everything in while his hearing was attuned to the surroundings. While not as good as getting real sleep, stim-packs did wonders for keeping one awake for an extended period of time, Jak had to admit that.

The sound reached his ears, and he reacted automatically. A pair of mutants leapt from the foliage that surrounded the area. Torn turned to face the threat, however, by the time he had his gun aiming in the right direction, the creatures had already been neutralized.

Jak stood, his katana pointing towards the ground. At his feet were the halves of the mutants, mercilessly cut down by the blade. For a moment, Torn simply stood where he was. The way he was holding the sword, the way he was carrying himself, it triggered a memory in his mind.

For a single instant, the hardned commander found himself in another place, another time, with another elf standing just like that. His hair blew in the wind, and yellow energy crackled in one fist, whilst the other held a katana. At his feet was a trio of decapitated Metal Heads.

"Yoo-hoo, Tattooed Wonder?"

Torn shook his head and the image faded. Daxter was standing right in front of him, gazing up at him with a most peculiar look upon his furry face. The look was mirrored by his elven comrade.

"What?" the commander asked.

"You've been staring at me for the past minute." Jak said.

"Sorry, flashbacks from my time in the Guard." Torn responded.

Suddenly, Torn found himself staring again. Not at his elven compatriot, but at the weapon he was holding. Jak had been carrying that thing around for the Precursors only knew how long, but he had never seen it out of its scabbard. Now, he could only feel disbelief as he gazed upon it. His memories surged forward again, and his mind analyzed every detail. There was no doubt about it, it was the same sword, there was no way there could be two katanas in this world like that.

"Where did you get that blade?" Torn asked.

"I found it the day you sent me out for that little capture the flag performance, right after you left as a matter of fact. Why?" the dark elf answered.

"Nothing important." he told Jak, earning him a cocked eyebrow.

Needless to say, Jak wasn't convinced, and neither was Daxter, however, they both resumed their patrol, and let the subject drop.

It was nearly sundown when Jak peeked around one of the cliff corners and brought his fist up, signaling for Torn to stop. An instant later, he motioned him up, the Underground commander saw why his comrade had halted. Fifty feet in front of the elves, nestled next to some trees, was a battered K.G. dropship. A quick look over the damaged transport showed a massive amount of energy scoring on the right side, making no mystery what had brought it down. Furthermore, around it were the bodies of several Guard members, their blood dried on the sand and rocks of the cliff.

The trio cautiously approach the vehicle, searching for signs of life, elven, or otherwise. Abruptly, Jak leaped forward, and hit the ground rolling. His morph-gun came up just in time to put a slightly older female elf directly in the crosshairs of his sights. Their gazes locked for a few seconds, before Jak lowered his magnum.

"Do you always drop out of trees when friends come by to say hello, Ashelin?" Torn said with a rare grin on his face.

"When they're elves I don't know, I opt for caution, Torn. He has good reflexes though." the girl responded, gesturing in the dark elf's direction.

"I'll assume this is your friend?" Jak inquired, his mind racing, he knew that voice from somewhere, and the name Ashelin also sounded very familiar.

"Yeah, Ashelin, meet Jak, one of our newer recruits. Jak, this is Ashelin, a lieutenant within the Krimzon Guard and quite possibly the best informant the Underground has." Torn said, his tone formal even if the former Channeler was able to see right through it.

"What makes her so special?" the eco infused elf asked, wanting the puzzle he was trying to assemble completed.

Torn remained silent, scratching the back of his head, wondering how he could phrase this. However, she beat him to the punch.

"Baron Praxis is my father." Ashelin stated in a somber tone.

Now it clicked, and the mere mention of that cursed name was all it took to cause Jak's inner demon to try and burst free. His jaw became set, and his eyes hardened, while his grip on his weapons tightened past the point of turning his knuckles white.

"Easy there," Ashelin told him, noticing his state, "I'm nothing like my father."

It was strange, the creature within ceased trying to free itself, as if it was confused, and it became a simple enough matter to will it away. Daxter, having noticed the look of pent up fury, sighed in relief, before turning his attention to the female trooper.

"Well, now that I know that I'm not going to be fraternizing with the enemy, you got a number I can get a-hold of you at?" he said in a suave tone.

The response he got was a growl from Torn as the veteran pointed his rifle straight at the Ottsel. Daxter gulped, and prepared to say goodbye to this cruel world. However, his life was miraculously spared by fire from another weapon. All three turned to see Jak, pistol out and sword held back. Another staccato filled the air, and a Metal Head death wail followed it.

All of them simply stared at Jak as a Drone fell from the cliff about one hundred feet from him. They were dumbfounded. The light of the day was waning as night encroached upon them, hiding the dark skinned creature. Furthermore, the beast had been in the heavy brush and trees that covered the top of the plateau, creating additional camouflage. And as a result, one thought went through the minds of both Torn and Ashelin, who were not at all familiar with what had been done to the dark elf.

How in the name of the Precursors had he seen that thing, let alone shot it?

Their answer was another burst of fire, followed by yet another roar of pain. However, the roars that followed were more like those of pure bloodlust than agony, and a large number of the monsters soon leapt down to their level, hungry for the flesh of those standing there.

"A little help here, if you don't mind." Jak growled.

The response was immediate. Torn ripped the clip out of his rifle, and changed the mode of the gun to something more suited for crowd control. The weapon hummed, and changed, becoming larger, more cylindrical in appearance. The Underground commander reached into his satchel, and drew a square shaped energy clip, before slamming it into the side of the gun. As he was taking aim at the largest group, Ashelin drew a pair of pistols, and opened fire. As for Daxter, well, he pretty much was too petrified to even move, let alone think of accomplishing the impossible by attacking one of those demons.

One leaped at Jak, and Kitetsu flashed, bisecting it. A blue comet lit up the twilight of the plateau as a charge shot from his magnum streaked towards one of several Crab Heads that had joined the party. The creature cried out in agony as it felt the shot plow into it. It was younger than its fellows, and less experienced in the ways of battle, and thus it instinctively brought its claws to its wound. Jak rushed forward at dazzling speed, intending to capitalize on that fatal error. He flipped his katana around so it was held knife fighter style, before leaping up and plunging it into the beast's skull.

Ashelin gunned one down, and then turned to find Jak dancing past her, Metal Head bodies scattered in his wake. He spun about, cleaving one's head off, and pumping another full of Eco at the same time, before vaulting nearly twenty feet into the air. As the daughter of Praxis gaped at the impossibility of his action, he came down on the back of another Crab Head, driving the dark katana up to its hilt into it. And when the creature twisted about in an attempt to shoot him, the dark elf calmly pumped three bursts of fire into its head at point blank range.

Especially

Another Crab Head took notice of was going on, and turned its twin blasters on the former Channeler. Any normal elf would have been cut down in an instant. But Jak had long ago come to grips with the fact that he was no longer normal.

He whipped the blade back and forth, deflecting the bolts that were being shot at him, and his own retaliatory fire was soon being sent on its way. Blue and purple colored eco bursts passed each other as elf and Metal Head tried to send each other to Death's domain. Finally, Jak's persistence, (and superior accuracy), paid off, as a well placed charge shot finally managed to tear off a portion of the beast's torso armor. The torso itself followed the protection a couple of seconds later.

Torn was also putting up a stubborn resistance, he braced his new gun against his shoulder, and pulled the trigger. A beam of red energy shot out of the barrel, and hit a Grunt dead on, before scattering into a half dozen or so other rays that skipped about at random angles. The secondary blasts were short range, minimizing the chance of friendly fire accidents, while at the same time maximizing the damage that could be inflicted upon a group of bunched up enemies. Their supplier had aptly enough named this gun "the shredder". He had also fought Metal Heads on multiple occasions, and even once been involved in an assault upon their nest, so he was quite familiar with their tactics, and thus, even in the dark, knew where they would be coming from, as many a death gurgle indicated.

One Drone, more ingenious than its fellows, somehow managed to get up in a tree, and then launched itself at the hardened commander, thinking to catch him by surprise. Torn immediately turned the tables on the beast by giving it a wallop from his shredder. It reeled backwards as the Underground soldier bashed it over the head again, before kicking it, virtually caving in its skull, and then, to ensure its death, he drew the curved dagger that he had hidden on his body. As the creature grasped its torn throat, he sheathed his knife, and began firing once more.

Ashelin, while well trained, had neither the knowledge nor the amped up vision of her two compatriots. This was not to say that she wasn't as good as they were, as after about a minute of fighting in near blackness, she decided to even up the odds.

The Guard member quickly holstered her pistols, reached into her belt, and withdrew a piston shaped object from a pouch inside. Pausing just long enough to give the top a quick twist, she then hurled the object into the midst of the attacking monsters.

Twilight became high noon as the flare ignited, startling the creatures, and lighting them up like they were on display at a shop. The daughter of Praxis smiled grimly as the tables were turned, and her own blaster fire joined Torn's and Jak's in an attempt to ruthlessly destroy their attackers. Many fell dead from precision shots through their skulls, and she actually managed to shoot out the eyes of one the Crab Heads overseeing the battle, making the creature all the easier to finish off with a second, more conventional grenade.

Then a problem cropped up.

For the Metal Heads.

Jak ejected a spent energy pack, and went to slam a fresh one into the loading mechanism of his gun. But as he did so, he heard a scream. In the confusion, he had forgotten about Daxter, and the fact that his furry friend had absolutely nothing with him that could hope to take down a Metal Head. He looked over his shoulder, and saw a Grunt charging for the Ottsel. With no time to reload, Jak did the first thing that came to his mind.

He threw his blade.

It spun, end over end, towards its target. The aim was unerring, and the Metal Head could not have been more surprised when it suddenly crashed to the ground, the blade sticking out through its heart. However, despite Daxter's relief that he was both intact, and had managed to avoid soiling himself, he was very much aware that Jak was now left with an unloaded gun as his only means of defense. The monsters were quick to capitalize on this apparent weakness.

As he went to reload, a zealous Drone tackled him to the ground, knocking the wind from his lungs and sending the gun arcing away from his hand. The beast went into a mad fury then, tearing at his chest, cutting him to the bone. Torn and Ashelin heard his cries just in time to watch the Metal Head bite into Jak's shoulder, and all but rip it off in its bloodlust. Daxter was horrified, knowing it was his fault that his best friend was about to wind up as metal meat.

As for Jak, the pain was intense, almost as bad as the treatments had been. He could feel the eco and blood both drain from his body, and his world began growing dark. Then something happened. For the third time, a red haze descended over his vision. The Dark Eco burned within him, and the transformation began.

The trio watched as the cries of pain turned into a bloodthirsty roar. The demon had been set free once more. The Drone looked down at its prey stupidly, not fully understanding the sudden change of the odds. The demon was all too willing to drive the point home. In a single, impossibly fluid motion, the demon leaped up, grabbed the Metal Head around its throat, and slammed it into the ground with enough force to leave an indentation.

If one were to suddenly gaze down upon the battle, one would think a time freeze had suddenly occurred. No one moved. All were transfixed by the image of the beast that had emerged from the elf. Torn, Ashelin, and Daxter watched with a sense of awe as Jak's slash wounds and mangled shoulder began to heal, skin, muscle and sinew all knitting themselves back together at several hundred times the normal rate.

"What the..." was all Torn could say.

It proved to be a cue, as the demon took that moment to charge into the ranks of the Metal Heads, its talons carving through their armor and tough skin like both were non-existent. Its speed was surprisingly great for a being of its bulk, and within moments, the lesser of the creatures were beating a hasty retreat for the apparent safety of the plateau forests.

It would be in vain.

What everyone failed to take notice of, though, was Kitetsu. The blade, still imbedded within the Metal Head's corpse, began to crackle with Dark Eco lighting, and the runes in its length glowed a dull red, like embers from a dying fire. This anomaly lasted perhaps ten seconds, before the blade returned to its normal state.

One Crab Head, bolder, or perhaps stupider than its fellows, stood its ground, and actually charged at the beast, its blasters firing. The creature then performed another old trick. It leapt, not at the large monster, but at the cliff wall. The five inch talons on its fingers easily sank into the rock and the demon began to "crawl" along the stony ridge faster than most elves could run. Once it was in position, it jumped once again. Three shots hit home upon the demon's chest, but did not stop it.

The next thing the Crab Head knew, the demon had wrapped it up in a bear hug. Its own muscles bulged like coiled springs, but did nothing against the monster it faced. The pressure became greater, and black blood began to flow from its mouth, until there was a loud and echoing "crack", and the creature went limp, its spine crushed. The demon then gave a roar that would have sent fear into the heart of any sane creature, before it charged after the fleeing monsters.

Daxter had walked over next to the other two elves, and watched the massacre in progress. Both of them stared long and hard at the Ottsel, as if demanding some kind of explanation for the sudden change in Jak. Not surprisingly, the mutated elf decided to crack a joke.

"I told him he needed to take anger management, but did he listen?"

A sudden burst of bright purple light interrupted the bad wisecrack, and drew the trio's attention back to the demon. As the last thirty or so Metal Heads tried desperately to make it to cover, Jak's alter ego was charging up a ball of Dark Eco between its claws. Moments later, the demon chucked it at the fleeing group.

"Well, this is something ne…" Daxter began, before the attack connected and its blast drowned him out

The resulting explosion made a shockwave that pushed the hair of the two elves back, and knocked Daxter flat on his rear. Bits of Metal Heads rained from the air, hitting the ground with wet, splattering sounds. As the haze cleared, Jak could bee seen, on his knees, gasping for breath. Daxter scrambled up, and rushed towards his friend.

"Jak, are you alright?" he asked, quickly searching for any existing injuries on the dark elf.

"It…happened again, didn't it?" Jak asked, looking around at the devastation he could scarely believe had been unleashed.

"Either that, or Ashelin had a bunch of insta-grow troopers in her back pocket." Daxter replied with sarcasm.

The former Channeler looked up, and saw both of the other elves staring hard at him; mirroring the same look of fear and uncertainty he had seen in the eyes of the child in his first few minutes of freedom.

"What…what the hell are you?" Torn said, the anxiety further manifesting itself in his voice.

"Something, not entirely elven anymore." was Jak's reply.

"What do you mean?" Ashelin asked him, while gazing at the unmistakable Dark Eco that still covered his chest and shoulder, though the wounds had healed.

"Next time you're at home," Jak growled, getting up to his feet, "look up the Dark Warrior Project. It could probably tell you more than I could, lab rats don't usually get fed all the details about what they're being used for."

The two elves stared at him, and then to Daxter, who simply nodded. The Ottsel was somber and without words for one of the few times in his life. It was then that Ashelin noticed something else about the dark elf. His tunic was ragged and torn open, revealing something strange. Emblazoned upon his chest were four black letters, XXVI. She blinked, and Jak noticed, hastily covering the tattoo.

The former Channeler glared at her as he walked by, heading for his discarded gun and sword. He reached the gun first, and slipped in a fresh pack, as his ammo belt had remained miraculously intact during the encounter. With that accomplished, he treaded over to the fallen Metal Head that had attacked Daxter, and yanked his katana free of its carcass.

"Who taught you how to swordfight like that?" Torn asked him abruptly, knowing of no other person within the Underground who had mastered what many considered an archaic and antique relic of a by-gone era. As a matter of fact, there was only one type of people he had ever observed using weapons like that, and the only one of them within two thousand miles was currently six years old.

"No one taught me, I just know how to. It's something I can't explain." Jak replied with a shrug, before sitting down next to the transport.

The last thing he heard before slipping into a much needed and deserved rest, was Ashelin telling Torn and Daxter to come give her a hand with repairing the transport.

&

So what did you think? Truthfully, I believe I might of accidentally gotten Torn a little OOC in this chapter, if I have, or if I ever get someone glaringly OOC, please let me know.

On another note, I will give you people three guesses to figure out who it was in Torn's flashback, though you're probably only going to need one.

I hope you enjoyed the time you took to read this chapter, and please, feel free to give me any ideas, questions, comments, or flames in the form of a review.

Thanks again for your time, and have a great day.