This is it...the last chapter of The Wyvern Battles. However, it won't quite be over. I still have a rather sizable epilogue to tag on, but I'll be submitting that later tonight.


It seemed to take forever to finally get out of the forest. But at last, Ragnar began to see the trees thinning out ahead. Not a moment too soon. Cloud had paused long enough to tie his leg down, stopping the bleeding, but it still ached. It had the bullet inside, and that needed to be removed. He was in rather severe pain at this point, but he grit his teeth and hobbled through it. He struggled to keep himself moving forward, even as he felt himself slowing down. The two men continued to close a bit further, tripping and stumbling a bit over the growth, as the trees continued to pass them by. At last, they finally reached the outer line, and Cloud practically yanked Ragnar out from the forest and into the light of day.

There it was. It turned out that the forest had ended a bit earlier than usual. That was because as they came out into the daylight, both men saw several freshly severed stumps still in their way. Many of them were rather thick, and a quick glance to the right and left revealed that they extended in either direction. Ragnar knew the cause immediately. He turned his head forward, and saw what was still ahead. The ground was flat and grassy for about another half mile. It also looked as if it had been torn up by hundreds of feet, and was muddy and trampled as a result. However, beyond this, far on the horizon, the seashore loomed, and the great vast ocean beyond it. They saw the two tugboats out there, and even from this far they could see them swamped with people. Moreover, however, they saw the massive wooden rafts that had been built. There were six of them at the moment, and each one was crowded with people and stuffed with as many supplies as they could manage. Luckily, with that many rafts, there was more than enough space for everyone. Still, as many people as possible had gotten onto the boats, which were far more seaworthy. A few final soldiers were leading in the last few crate carriers as they mounted the final raft. Once they were on, they quickly began to get on themselves. Ragnar looked up, and found that some fortune was on their side. The sea was smooth, just like the day he first left the Northern Continent. If it could hold out…they might just make it to the other shore.

Cloud began to drag the hobbling Ragnar down the hill, moving away from the forest and into the grass valley. The youth panted and struggled to keep moving, trying to ignore his pain a bit longer as he ran. But as they moved, a crack of static suddenly sounded from Ragnar's hip. Moments later, a rather panicked and annoying sounding female voice yelled through it.

"Where the hell have you two been!"

Ragnar grit his teeth and frowned. He didn't have any free hands to answer Yuffie at the moment. His were full with Ragnarok and bracing himself against Cloud. He was going to simply ignore it…until he heard something else.

"Get down here now, you idiots! We just overheard their radio! They're almost through the forest…and they're calling in an air strike!"

Both Cloud and Ragnar paled on hearing that. They nearly both stumbled, and turned to look to each other with mutual surprise. Yet even as this happened…they began to hear an echo from back in the woods. It was the sound of engines…and it appeared to be some of the Cromwells that they had missed before. On hearing that…they both swallowed as one.

"Alright kid…we need to pick up the pace." Cloud finally stated. "Hold on to that sword…and try not to let it touch me."

With that, Cloud swung Event Horizon around and locked it into his back sheath. With that done, he quickly leaned over with both free hands and scooped Ragnar off of the ground while still moving forward. The young general felt like frowning…feeling even more helpless at this moment. However, this wasn't a time to worry about pride. Cloud was right. So instead, he exhaled a bit and crossed his sword over him, keeping it from Cloud's bare skin. A moment later, Cloud huffed and puffed a few times before doubling their speed, moving them into a run. Soon, he was charging down the grass valley much faster.

The sounds of engines coming continued to roll. However, they weren't sounding any closer. If anything, they were going farther away. It seemed that Cloud's new speed managed to keep them apart for now. As for up ahead, one of the tugboats suddenly generated a spray of foam and took off. Its soon began to putter away from the shore. Moments later, it snapped its lines taught on the rafts it was connected to. In response, they lurched away from shore and into the water.They couldn't afford to stay any longer, especially if they were calling in Gelinkas. All they had to do now was focus a targeting laser on them once they were out of the woods and in visual range. They had to get farther away and pray that the Gelinkas couldn't target on sight…

It seemed to take forever to get to the shore. It was the longest half mile of Ragnar's life. Yet Cloud continued to push himself, and he only increased in speed as he ran. The second tugboat began to fire up the engines once the first one had fully yanked the rafts by, but it held. On the last raft, the soldiers frantically waved them on, yelling at them to keep coming and to get on board as soon as possible. At last, Cloud's feet plunged into sandy soil. He charged forward a bit longer, kicking up clouds of dust in his wake, before he finally reached the log of the final raft. He immediately leapt up with Ragnar in his arms and touched down on it. The beckoning men quickly turned to him, away from the edge, and grabbed on to help him.

"The General's been shot. If we have any medical supplies here, we need them." Cloud announced on arriving. He quickly began to let Ragnar down again. The other soldiers moved in and grabbed him by his arms, and with their help, they managed to get him off of Cloud and slowly lower him to the ground of the raft. Ragnar winced a bit as he did, but he finally was seated on it.

Once he was down, one of the soldiers went to his own walkie-talkie. He yanked it up and out and put it to his mouth. "The Generals are aboard. We are good to go."

Ragnar panted a moment after that. However…something suddenly struck him. When it did, he began to look around. He couldn't see much from where he was. This raft had mostly supplies, but a few soldiers were on it as well. They were already seated, letting the men who were standing do the work. He also noticed that some of them were rather meek looking and cringing. They seemed to cower where they were…and avoided the eyes of the other troops around them. Whenever they met, the latter would give an evil eye to the former. He understood this. Apparently…some refugees had come back after all. But they weren't what he was trying to see. He held for a moment after looking around…but in the end, he decided to go for it. He turned back to the officer on the walkie-talkie.

"Where is Zola?"

The man turned to him and frowned. "He escaped, sir. Overpowered his guard and ran back into the forest. We haven't heard from him since."

Ragnar held for a moment after hearing that. Inside…he felt a twinge of something pulling at him. His brain screamed at him, telling him to get out of there, and that what he was thinking was a bad idea. However…another part of him told him that he should do this. Most of it was intuition…and a small part was a sense of mercy…but eventually it did manage to override his better judgment. He looked out back to the shore a moment and let out a sigh. Then, in the end, he reached for his belt, raised his own walkie-talkie, and spoke out into it.

I must be crazy…

"Negative. Belay that order. We're staying here."

Cloud, the two soldiers nearby, and anyone else in the area snapped around to the general in surprise.

"…Kid…what are you doing?" Cloud asked incredulously.

"We're not leaving yet." Ragnar continued into the walkie-talkie, looking up. "Get ready to gun the engines on my signal, but not before." With that, he let the radio down, and glared silently at the shore.

"Sir…why are we waiting?" One of the soldiers asked in response, sounding genuinely nervous.

"The enemy will be here any minute." The other added, likewise beginning to show anxiety.

"We're waiting for one more soldier…" Ragnar responded, trailing off a bit in the end.

The two soldiers looked up to one another uneasily. After that, they exhaled, and nervously sat down as well on deck, balling their hands into fists and anxiously looking out to shore again. Those nearby also began to grow nervous. Some started to reach for their weapons again. Cloud himself stared at Ragnar for a moment, but the youth didn't look back. He continued to fix his gaze on the shore. Slowly, the ex-mercenary sighed. Then, he turned around and crossed his arms as he looked to the shore as well. He knew what this was about. He couldn't say it was a good choice. However…he also couldn't say he might not have done the same thing. After all, he wasn't the one who had his life saved.

Ragnar merely put his fist to his mouth and bit against it…and prayed that he didn't make the wrong decision.

A few minutes went by. Now…the engine sound was getting louder again. It still stayed faint compared to how it was before, but it was coming nearer. The other tugboat continued to pull its cargo away, putting more and more distance between it and the shore. The people on board the other rafts began to look worried, and started to talk among themselves about what was going on. However, Ragnar continued to hold and wait, looking ahead to the forest. He scanned it desperately, trying to see some sign of anything coming out of it…

Suddenly, some of the lighter trees began to snap and fall down further back in the canopy. As they did…something new began to come forth. A steady line of Cromwells, rolling over any object that got in their way,emerged. They filled the tree line on the horizon, stretching about fifty long. The enemy had obviously constructed more… That wasn't all. Falling in behind them, flooding out like a carpet of army ants, was the rest of the ground troops. As many as Cloud and Ragnar had killed, it wasn't nearly enough. They filled the entire forest, spreading out and coming forward, turning the green area blue in their wake. And though they were still a half mile away…Ragnar could tell that they were reacting on seeing the rafts. Now clear, the Cromwells began to chug louder, picking up speed to rush to shore as soon as possible. The soldiers broke into a run.

That was it. Ragnar grit his teeth and scowled, and then raised the walkie-talkie to his mouth to give the order…

At long last, he saw it.

A faint green shape seemed to suddenly leap out of the trees, sailing over the line of troops. It landed a good fifty feet in front of them. Some of the tanks and soldiers halted momentarily, and looked to it while the others continued to march. They seemed to be puzzled at the leaf-colored object. However, regardless of what they felt…this object soon began to dash for the shore at incredible speeds. Ragnar saw this, and so did Cloud. As it grew nearer, much faster than the New Shinra were doing so, other people began to turn their attention off of the army and to this object as well. That was when Ragnar noticed something. The thing seemed to be changing colors. Most of its green suddenly faded, and was replaced with tan in its wake. Some sort of black color capped it. The people continued to watch as it came closer afterward…seeming to lose a bit of speed but still running faster than the New Shinra. At last, the details began to come out. It was an abnormally skinny-seeming, black haired young man. And as he came closer, it was obvious that his mind was stretched with panic, and he was struggling as hard as he could to get to the shore.

As the New Shinra continued to move forward behind him, the man finally came into full visual view. Ragnar recognized him as Zola immediately. He had lost his armor, his sword, and his boots…but he was back in human form. Now, as fast as he could run, he reached the shore and tore up the sand as he dashed to the raft. Ragnar raised the walkie-talkie to his mouth a moment later, and yelled out the order.

"Go! Now!"

Immediately, the second tugboat's engine roared to life. The panicked captain threw it into full speed. As a result, the lines snapped taught a bit quicker and more forcefully than on the other boat. The people on board were flung a bit forward. As for Zola…he ran the few more feet that were necessary, before he ducked and leapt up onto the raft himself. Moments later, his body was smacking down flat on the logs just as the raft began to pull away from the shore.

The other soldiers began to brace themselves. Now that they were in motion, they grabbed onto whatever secure lines they could. The people on the other rafts also hunkered down. Cloud and Ragnar themselves turned and looked in between them. Zola had landed right there, and was stretched out with face flat against the wood. He was heaving considerably, obviously having run a rather long way to get here. Ragnar put down the walkie-talkie and stared at him. His face showed neither anger nor pleasure. Cloud, on his part, stared at him coldly, but said and did nothing.

After a moment longer, Zola finally managed to turn his head. He looked up to Ragnar andslowly cracked a smile as he continued to pant.

"Thank you…General…" He half-moaned.

"Don't thank me yet." Ragnar answered back immediately. "I still haven't decided what I'm going to do with you."

Zola grunted a bit, and put his arms underneath him to start pushing up. "Still…just the same…" He began.

However, he couldn't finish. He was cut off as the sound of an explosion erupted behind the rafts. Immediately, Cloud, Ragnar, and Zola all turned and looked back out to the shore. They saw a plume of smoke and fire rise from about two hundred feet from shore on the land side. Moments later, the entire line of Cromwells began to fire. Yet as they did, their bad angle coupled with their short range ruined them. The shots blasted the soil harmlessly, not even getting as far as the sandy shore. Fast as they could go, the tugboat could match their speed. It was a last desperate act to try and stop the army, and it was failing.

"Just in time." Cloud remarked aloud.

"Yeah…hopefully." Ragnar added a moment later. "There's still that whole air strike thing to worry about. But so long as they can't use any targeting lasers, I don't think-"

At that moment…another ill bit of luck suddenly befell the Planet Protector Army.

The Cromwells were hopelessly out of range and lacked the speed to close the gap. They were rushing downhill, and so all of their shots had a downward component in their angle to begin with. Furthermore, their shots didn't have the power to even travel that far. And yet…one managed to strike a rock as it rolled forward. When it did, its body was suddenly lurched upward, aiming the main gun ahead and at a vertical angle. A moment later, the wild gunner at the helm fired. Coupled with the shock of hitting the rock, or perhaps a shot made with a bit too much powder…the shell fired…and launched far further than it normally was possible of doing so.

This shot sailed through the air, racing across the sky much farther than its mates had. It lost propulsion at last when it reached the beach area…but by then it was high enough to still fall a considerable distance before detonating. Ragnar cut himself off at this point, and looked up to see that one of the shells had made it through. The others likewise looked up and watched…and saw the shellsnake through the air. It continued to plummet as it went to the edge of the raft, over it, and then past it to the water beyond. Only then did it fall at last…and on striking the water immediately detonated.

Ragnar, the others, and the soldiers all recoiled and covered their faces a moment as a shell eruption went off in front of the boat. Water was thrown everywhere, dousing the people at the front end of the raft. The explosion, fortunately, was mostly smothered by the water. Yet as Ragnar winced and put an arm in front of his face…he heard another sound. It was like some sort of wire being rippled quickly…or a piece of sheet metal vibrating. On hearing this, he slowly pulled his arm down again, and looked to the front of the raft.

His eyes widened.

"…Crap."

On hearing this, Cloud and Zola removed their arms from their own eyes and looked to see what had caused Ragnar to say this. They soon froze as well. The other soldiers began to lower their eyes and watched too…only to likewise be stricken with panic and growing fear.

The line carrying the raft had been severed…and was now sliding out of the holes of the raft and falling uselessly into the sea.

Ragnar swallowed and turned back to see where they were. They had only put about a hundred yards between them and the shore at this point…still well within range. Already, their raft was beginning to slow. The inertia carried it a bit farther, but the tugboat had still been picking up speed when the cord was snapped. Now…the two rafts on either side of the cut loose one began to rush by, leaving their mate to slow down to a float in the seawater. It wasn't long before both rafts had fully passed it by, and were being yanked off into the distance along with the second tugboat. The soldiers on the final raft were left alone.

…And the enemy was still coming.

Ragnar licked his lips nervously, and began to look around at their situation. After that, he turned back ahead and to the land. The Cromwells, on seeing that one raft was falling behind, were firing more eagerly now. At the moment, their shots were harmlessly hitting the sand. But that would change soon. The other soldiers were still rushing forward, outstripping them as they ran to the shore. They were already halfway there…in range to begin pulling out the laser targeting mechanisms. The general felt himself begin to sweat. He snapped around behind him to the nearest soldier.

"Do we have any distance weapons on board?" As if it would matter. We can't fight off the whole army from this raft.

The officer was growing nervous by now, as was the rest of the crew. But with their general here, staying calm and sounding commanding, he held it. He shook his head dismally. "Only ammo boxes and small arms weapons."

"What about materia?"

"Only two basal level attack ones."

Ragnar frowned and looked about a bit more. There had to be something here that they could use. In the end, he turned back to the man and called out once more. "Do we have any machinery? Anything that we could cobble together to make an engine?"

The man frowned and shook his head ruefully again. "We got mostly what was left over. Tents…medical supplies…lots of food…but no vehicles."

Ragnar balled his hand into a fist and smacked against the deck. He turned his head back to the shore. The enemy was still closing. The Cromwell shots were beginning to hit water now. The New Shinra soldiers had to be in range to start targeting them, assuming they hadn't already. And here they were…sitting ducks. It infuriated the youth. After all they had gone through…all the escapes with death over the past two days…this was where it was going to end. Stuck on this raft with nowhere to go… They could counterattack their enemy with their own rifles and guns, but they couldn't kill them all. And they were sitting ducks out here for RPGs…or the air strikes.

As if to accent that…Ragnar began to hear something on the sky. It started out faint, easily confused for the sound of a breeze. However…it quickly started to sound unusual, and grew in strength slowly and steadily. It sounded more like a tunnel as time went on…or things moving through a tunnel. And it quickly went from being rather mild in volume to being incredibly loud. It sounded almost as if it was tearing through the sky. Ragnar knew that sound. It was a plane engine…and it had to be closing.

The young man sighed and bowed his head dismally. This was where it was going to end. It seemed that at the end of everything…Wyvern was going to have his way after all. Death was closing in on them from all sides now.

"Here come the Gelinkas…" He announced over the growing roar. "I guess this is it…"

"I don't think so, kid. I've been in the military…and that's not a Gelinka engine."

Ragnar raised his head at that, looking a little confused. He turned his head to the side, and saw that Cloud had spoken. However, he wasn't looking to him now. He was looking behind him, up to the sky. And he wasn't alone. Zola and the other two soldiers were looking as well. The roaring continued to get louder…and in fact soon grew to be almost deafening. The youth soon began to wince in it…as well as in the air that began to blast against his face…

Wait a second…air?

On realizing this, Ragnar snapped around as well as the wind quickly grew into a gale. It started to whip not only at his hair and clothing, but at everyone's who was on the raft. They had already turned and looked up into the sky themselves, along with Cloud and the soldiers. The roar was deafening at this point. Cloud reached up to begin covering his ears. But as he did, he grinned at the sight he saw…which Ragnar himself saw for the first time.

A large, sleek, shining and splendid airship suddenly was upon them. It swooped out of the sky from behind them like an eagle diving for prey. And yet, the pilot on board had to have expert skill…for they halted the ship just a mere two feet above the water, leveling it out at just the right moment. Ragnar and the others were blasted by wind and roared at by powerful jet engines for a moment…before both the sound and the wind died down slightly. The roar diminished as the great cylindrical engines around the craft slowed, and the wind began to be directed more straight beneath it. Again, the pilot on board showed their skill, for the ship pitched forward ever so slightly, moving itself onto the raft. Immediately, those in the way cleared out of it as he shoved its way in, pushing aside some cargo boxes and crates as it did so along its bottom. But then, it halted once again.

A hiss of steam erupted from the massive craft which now dwarfed the raft below in its shadow. Then…the side panel of the lower hull cracked open, and the craft began to let out a huge metallic hum. A large metal panel began to fall down, being lowered on hydraulic pistons, about ten feet by twenty feet. It swiveled around the bottom, appearing to be fixed on some sort of hinge down there. It continued to lower until it made an incline against the ground, although it still hovered a foot off of the deck of the ship when it finished. Ragnar saw this, and realized that it was forming a ramp…and that now it was opening up into the interior. Not only that, but he recognized what this was too…

"The Sierra…" Ragnar echoed aloud.

Suddenly…a rather grumpy-sounding, loud voice blared over a loudspeaker from the Sierra, even stronger than the jet engines.

"What the hell are you doing staring around like some damn retarded cow for! Get on the damn ship, you stupid sons of bitches!"

At the sudden loud urge of the unseen owner of the voice, the soldiers suddenly snapped out of their own awe and amazement. Immediately, they sprung to their feet and began to run for the craft. Luckily, there were no injured on this raft save for Ragnar. They had mostly gotten on the tugboats or on the first raft. They quickly reached the ramp, took the first large step up to it, and then ran inside. They abandoned their crates…but there was nothing for it now. The New Shinra and their Cromwells were still firing, and they were getting closer.

Cloud turned and put an arm underneath Ragnar's shoulder to help him up…only to get a surprise. Zola was already at his side, putting his own arm underneath Ragnar's other shoulder. The young general himself turned and saw this, and reacted with some astonishment. As for Zola, he nervously looked back to Ragnar in response…before giving an innocent grin and shrugging. Ragnar held a moment, but then shook it off. This was no time to be thinking about this. Between the two men, he was easily yanked off deck and began to be carried to the open airship. As he did, he couldn't help but call aloud over the jet roar.

"I thought you said that the investors wouldn't let you!"

He didn't know how, but somehow the unseen Cid must have heard him, for he yelled back over the loudspeaker.

"The damn investors can kiss my ass when it comes to this! Why the hell didn't you call me sooner! Just get your damn smartallecky ass up here before I come down there and kick it up!"

Ragnar managed a grin at this. He could learn to like Cid…

The two men brought Ragnar to the edge of the ramp. Once there, they both pulled back a moment, and then practically tossed the young general inside. Luckily, there were soldiers there waiting for him. They caught him as he was tossed into the craft, and immediately dragged him back. As they did, Cloud and Zola leapt in as well. Immediately, the metal hatch began to close once again. A second later, gunfire erupted from the nearest people on shore, and a few sparks went out from the metal hull. But it was too late. The hatch was already shut enough to protect the people within, who were moving in deeper anyway. In addition, the engines fired up once more…and soon the Sierra was roaring to life and sailing back into the sky. The Cromwells rolled into position a few moments later…but it was too late. Their shells were powerless to hit the airship as it sailed into the air.

Within a few moments, the Sierra was a distant silver sliver in the sky. From up above, the New Shinra did turn into an army of ants, flooding the shore…but powerless to finish the last of their quarry now snatched from their grasp. They had to content themselves with their victory of hitting the south for right now. As for the airship in the sky, it only waited until it was well in the air and far from any danger, before pitching its engines forward and firing off again. After that, it sailed straight for Midgar…to drop off its own passengers hours before the tugboats and their rafts would arrive.

It had been a long two days…filled with battle and agony. There had been treachery…insurrection…betrayal…and death. But in the end of it…the leader of the Planet Protector Army still lived. And in the end…he had made the wise choice regarding the escapees. Most who had deserted and come back now saw that he was truly the bravest one of them all, going almost alone into the middle of battle to try and buy them the time they needed to escape. They also saw how merciful he was by forgiving them…taking them from the Northern Continent shore and back to safety. Many of these people saw this…and felt guilt and shame not only at their own desertion…but at how easily they had accepted the lies of the dark man and the officers. They realized now the foolishness of trying to escape…and just howimportant their cause truly was, and how true their leader was. Their faith began to be restored…and in days to come some of these many would reenlist in the army with renewed vigor…while others would join the non-combatant areas to further service him.

The New Shinra had managed to rout them in the end of all things…but they had failed to destroy them.

General Ragnar lived.

The Planet Protector Army lived.

The fight was far from over.


Bahamut's new speed allowed him to catch up with Wyvern in no time. As he closed on his body, he could see that the cells had already divided, growing him a new arm. However, he still looked to be in considerable pain. He swept down on him, ready to give him even more…

Yet as the esper closed, Wyvern's eyes snapped open and filled with hate. Abruptly, he swung around as Bahamut came in, striking him across the face with his tail. The power made the esper recoil in pain, his head snapping to one side. Now, he flew away from the shimmering creature. Wyvern hissed, and quickly snapped around and shot at him again. A moment later, he was on him, hooking his fist underneath and pounding Bahamut in the stomach. He felt glee in his rapidly breaking mind to see blood come out of Bahamut's mouth at that. With almost insane fervor, he uppercut him after that, knocking him up and away.

However, Bahamut didn't stay stunned long as he rocketed away from Wyvern. His new strength was enough to weather this, and his body was regenerating once again. Quickly, he righted himself. He snapped his head down next, and quickly charged a Sol-Pyrin. In the midst of space, it was easy to gather the rays of solar energy going though the vacuum, and he was charged in no time. But rather than shoot Wyvern with this, he blasted behind him with no reinforcement. The result made him shoot forward like a comet, snapping out of his first momentum and rocketing back toward Wyvern. The monster had been shooting after Bahamut to follow up with a thrust kick…but now he froze, seeing him coming back with incredible force. That wasn't all. Soon, the esper was upon him, and he seized the leg of Wyvern. He kept traveling afterward, putting his power behind it as well…

And neatly snapped Wyvern's leg backward and ripped it off of his body.

The thoughts of Wyvern filled with agony. The shimmering creature writhed in pain as Bahamut sailed past him. The esper stopped himself soon after, and threw the shimmering appendage in front of him. In no time at all, he charged another Sol-Pyrin, and proceeded to obliterate this part as well. The situation had fully reversed from their last battle.

Now…Bahamut was the one dismembering Wyvern alive.

The thing spun around in violent anger. It began to hiss and foam at the mouth again. It grunted once more…and then its lower stump became fluid-like. It proceeded to lengthen like some sort of jelly liquid, and sculpt itself into a new leg. After that, it stiffened and became hard again. A moment later, Wyvern shot at Bahamut with his own incredible speed, and he moved so fast that the esper was once again caught off guard. Before Bahamut could react, Wyvern had smashed him in the face with a double fisted hit, splitting his jaw in half again and sending him flying again into the void.

Fuming with rage, Wyvern went off after him. He shot past him soon after, and went into his path. As Bahamut went by, he swung his double fists down again over his stomach, struggling to feel ribs crack again as he smashed down on him. A blinding flash of energy from both resulted as he hit him, and Bahamut curled up as he was thrown down. Still not finished, the enraged creature shot down past him again, and once more into his path. This time, he spun around and performed a roundhouse kick, striking Bahamut with inconceivable force yet again. Once more, the esper was ripped out of his path and flung forward. Wyvern felt bones break underneath that…to his grim satisfaction. Now that he was sailing away, Wyvern faced him, spread his arms out, and opened his mouth while spreading out his palms to hit him with three Mega-Pyrons at once…

But he never received the chance. Lifeless and broken as Bahamut had seemed, the esper suddenly sprung back to life as he sailed away. His bones had already reconnected, and his power was still brimming. As Wyvern opened wide…Bahamut opened his own mouth faster and fired yet another Sol-Pyrin. This one focused more on speed than power, and was far more concentrated. Wyvern gaped in surprise…but it was too late. The Sol-Pyrin sailed right toward him…and then went down his open mouth into his throat.

Moments later, the powerful blast detonated inside Wyvern's newly made cavity. The creature spasmed wildly as an eruption of solar flame was belched from his stomach. His body was wracked terribly, and his attacks were broken as his body was flung about like a rag. After finishing throwing up fire, Wyvern doubled over and heaved. Molten chunks of his body, fried and dead, began to be vomited out. The thing gagged for a moment longer…before its gagging was cut off as Bahamut dove forward and drove his elbow deep into his throat. Although the creature couldn't breathe, this cut off the only way for the dead pieces of it to move out, and its shimmering eyes enlarged as it clutched as its neck. Bahamut reared back after hitting him, and smashed his head two different ways with his own roundhouse kicks, snapping his head forward one way, and then bringing the heel back to hook against his face. Finally…the esper reared back, focused his power, and smashed his foot forward into the dazzled Wyvern's face. He went flying once again soon after.

Bahamut brought his foot back and began to pant again. He had already burned through a good portion of the Supra-Velo…but he was holding out for now. And now, his plan was beginning to work. As he tore away pieces of Wyvern, he was regenerating just as quickly. But each time sapped away at more of the thing's power. It was losing strength steadily now, and it had reached the point where even fighting back was beginning to rob it of its energy. Not only that, but Bahamut was fighting with a purpose once again.

He was forcing him away…forcing him toward the great glowing orb straight ahead of him…

Bahamut snapped his wings out and shot after Wyvern. The radiant being continued to be wrenched in agony for a moment…but then snapped up. Hissing, it opened his mouth at the pursuing Bahamut, and exhaled another Mega-Pyron at him. The deadly attack sailed toward him for a brief moment…before he suddenly vanished. Wyvern's eyes bulged as the attack went sailing past…and a moment later Bahamut reappeared on the opposite side, still coming forward. He wondered if Bahamut was using his own mind tricks or dodging…but he never got the chance to find out. The esper smashed him in the face with his elbow a moment later, throwing him even more violently through space. Wyvern's head was pitched to one side as his jaw was broken off from his face. Bahamut stopped just long enough to vaporize this part, and then shot after him again. Wyvern had an even harder time pulling out of his strain this time, whizzing through space as he was. When he did manage to crack his eyes open and regenerate his jaw, he turned out to see Bahamut racing toward him again. Hissing in rage, foaming fragments of his throat out of his mouth, he swung his own fist at him just as he sailed into range. Yet Bahamut was too fast. He simply swung his head to the other side, letting Wyvern's force slice open his cheek again, and then gave him another iron palm…this one smashing in his skull. Wyvern's body was more wildly flung into space, now racing past the second planet from the sun. Again, Bahamut hesitated to destroy what had flown off from Wyvern, and then went after him again.

The creature blazed through space even faster than before. Yet somehow…he managed to crack his eyes open yet again, and this time summoned all of his strength to go down and flatten himself out. He stopped a second later. Bahamut continued to rush at him, ready to strike him again. However, as he was about to hit, the thing hissed and snapped his own body to one side, letting Bahamut sail harmlessly by. Crying out silently in the silence of space, Wyvern swung his fist around and buried it deep into Bahamut's side, feeling more bones break underneath it. The esper hesitated, and his own eyes widened in pain. Fuming, Wyvern seized his still extended arm and dragged him forward, so that he could drive his own fist up into Bahamut's solar plexus. That done, he yanked him back, grabbed him by both shoulders, and furiously began to smash his own head into his. Again and again he struck, cracking open Bahamut's crest, and trying to batter his brains out…

Bahamut let this continue for a while until his blood began to float from his head, but then he managed to bring both arms up and cross them in front of his own forehead. Wyvern smashed into them a second later, but was blocked. Quickly, Bahamut reached out and grabbed Wyvern's own crest, and then brought it down hard onto his knee. Again, the creature's face was smashed in. After this…Bahamut opened his own mouth wide, showing off his dangerous teeth. Utilizing his bestial heritage, he twisted around and clamped them down on Wyvern's neck. He dug them in deep…causing the thing's eyes to widen in more agony. He brought his arms up and wrapped them around next. He held for a moment…forcing his power onto him…and then suddenly ripped Wyvern's entire head from his torso, neck and all.

Wyvern's anguished face was frozen in a look of surprise as he did so. Once he had ripped it off, however, he released the sizzling, burning appendage and turned to the headless body. Opening his mouth wide and unfurling his wings, he began to summon another Giga-Pyrin. His head quivered as the deadly orb of energy generated in front of him a moment…but then it was released as a powerful beam. Wyvern's body was immediately enveloped in deadly energy, and was blasted even faster than before into space. As Bahamut focused and let Wyvern burn, he tossed the head and neck into the beam as well. It too roasted in the heat…and was soon vaporized. But he continued to push, forcing Wyvern's body farther away…and closer to the sun.

Bahamut at last cut off the energy, and then rushed forward once again. The beam took Wyvern even faster than he could move at this point. It took him longer to catch up with him. By now…he had to have burnt through at least half of his power. Regenerating himself wasn't helping. But Wyvern was getting weaker too. There was a chance that he had actually finished him with that last move… However, he continued to thunder forward to make sure, making his own blazing trail through space. He continued to watch his beam up ahead burn, and continued to see the great yellow orb of the sun get larger and larger. He began to feel the strain against his own scales, resistant as they were to great temperatures. The heat was distinctly growing. But he wasn't there yet…and he had to move farther. As he saw his beam die out up ahead, he unknowingly slipped into the orbit of the first planet from the sun…

Then, he saw up ahead. His sharp eyes enabled him to see long before he reached the location, and he realized that Wyvern had freed himself somehow. His body was weakened after that though. His wings had been nearly melted off, and the covering on his arms and legs had almost been blown away too. But he still sensed life in him. Again, the stump on his head became liquid…and a new lump began to rise from it. After a moment, it began to form the shape of Wyvern's head and neck. As his face regained its features…he saw that they were tight and infuriated…but also more strained. After regrowing his head…he actually had to look down to his body and focus a moment. He first looked to his arms…and after a moment they were regenerated. Next he looked to his legs, and they soon did the same. Finally, he looked to his back, and at last they grew back as well. It was taking more and more energy for him to do this, Bahamut began to realize…and it was still slowing down. His last attack had taken a huge bite out of Wyvern's remaining energy. Even his glow seemed to be getting dimmer…

As Bahamut sailed in, the creature grit its teeth, and raised its head to try and lash out again at him. The esper sailed right for it, and he swung his fist at him as he neared. However…Bahamut was too fast again. Wyvern's blow struck nothing as Bahamut seemed to disappear in midair. A moment later…a powerful blow struck him against the side of his head, snapping his body to the side, as Bahamut leapt into the vacuum and shot down against his face, striking him as he did so with a thrust kick.

Wyvern flew away for a moment, before regaining his composure again. Still fuming, he shot back up and sailed toward Bahamut again. However, this time, the esper was prepared. He turned his head to one side to dodge Wyvern's first blow. He swung his neck back to avoid his other arm hooking him. Wyvern growled and tried to hit him with another thrust, but he dodged past this as well, snapping his head in another direction. At last, Wyvern snapped around and brought his tail forward, trying to smack Bahamut against the face. The esper flipped back in midair in response…and brought his own spiked tail up to slam against Wyvern's chin. The creature had its head snapped up, and more teeth flew out from its mouth. As it staggered back, Bahamut had more than enough time to quickly vaporize these before he ducked in and began to beat Wyvern in the stomach for all he was worth. His fists flew like machine guns, bashing into his stomach again and again. The radiant being could only gape in surprise as it was beaten, feeling more of its insides being forced from his mouth.

Bahamut kept pounded him until he was bent over, and then proceeded to swing his fist against his face, smashing it one way and the other. He crushed in his jaw one way, and then backhanded him the other again. He did this two more times, before he reached both of his hands forward and locked knuckles. Giving a silent yell in space, he swung his fists over his head and smashed them down onto Wyvern's skull, fracturing his crest and sending pieces of it flying away. The glowing thing was totally stunned at this point, aghast at how viciously it was being beaten. But Bahamut's own savagery wasn't done yet. He reached forward and seized both limbs of the creature…and then as hard as he could thrust both feet out and smashed them into Wyvern's body. One more note of agony ripped through the esper's skull as he heard the creature's anguished thoughts…before both arms were ripped from its sockets and its body was flung again…closer and closer to the sun.

As Bahamut watched Wyvern fly away, he began to pant again. His own brow would be covered with sweat if the dryness of space and the heat of the closing sun didn't immediately vaporize it. His muscles were starting to burn again. Once more…he was unloading everything he had against Wyvern, but this time it was working. The creature was weakening. Now, he had lost so much speed and power that he could dodge him. If Bahamut could sustain the Supra-Velo a bit longer…it would all be over. The esper once more opened his mouth and exhaled his deadly breath, destroying the latest pieces of Wyvern he had knocked off of him. After that, he shot forward yet again…closer to the growing heat…and pull of gravity.

Wyvern's agonized form writhed in space. But even these were getting weaker as he sailed closer and closer to his final destination… Somehow, anguished and teeth gritting, he twisted himself up and righted himself again. This time…his glowing, deformed hulk of a body slumped over. Straining now…his glow quickly dimming as it was replaced with the glow of the nearing orb behind him…he forced his skull to pop out again. His arms very slowly wormed their way back out of their shoulders, and his crest very slowly put itself back together. Even while he was still struggling to regenerate, Bahamut was on him again. The esper had no trouble keeping up with his regeneration speed now. However…he merely stopped as he reached the range of Wyvern. He didn't press the attack. He hovered with his fists balled and watched as the neither living nor dead creature struggled to put itself back together. At last, it succeeded. But now, it was so tired…it lacked the ability to keep fighting right away. Instead, it looked up…and saw the esper glare at him.

Bahamut watched as Wyvern's eyes widened. His lip seemed to tremble, as it struggled to keep its furious appearance and grit teeth. But deep in his red, powerful eyes…he sensed something else. It was something that Wyvern had been denying…some primal negative emotion within him that had underlied his desire to constantly have more power… Until now, it had been sated. He had become so strong…so mighty…that he had almost forgotten it existed. He believed himself totally invincible…unkillable…even a god. But now…as his crest started to fuse its cracks once again…he began to realize the horrible truth, just as he had realized it when he looked into the coming onslaught of Alexander.

He wasn't the strongest after all.

Now…that emotion began to bleed forth: Fear.

Wyvern had warped his entire world around him. He had twisted history and reality to suit his own constantly maddening thoughts. He remolded everything to match his fractured sanity. He had been wrong… He had accused Bahamut of being a curse on this world. The truth was…Wyvern believed himself to be cursed. Cursed by Bahamut. He did come back…and he was always stronger. But always…his brother was there. Keeping up with him no matter how mightier he was…outstripping him despite how much strength he possessed…foiling him again and again… No matter how mighty he became…he was always there. He always kept coming back…always was there to laugh in his face…force him down…ruin his chances to prove himself the best. His victories kept being snatched from him… He couldn't kill him. He had never been able to. He had wanted to kill him for so long…prove he was the best… But like an inhuman ghost…he kept coming back. He could never finish him. He could only take him to the edge…and then lose.

This wraith…this monster… He was always stronger than him…always better than him… He had it this time. He had everything. Fate…science…intelligence…power…all of it had been on his side. All of it had picked him. And yet…this creature…this nightmare before him…it had beaten him again. He was literally tearing him apart… He had been beating him to death for hours…almost an entire day…and yet he still came back in the end…looking like he hadn't done a thing…like he had wasted all of his effort. He was a new creature…and yet he was still stronger…

He couldn't be mortal or immortal…

He had to be the devil incarnate.

…Why…? The creature asked. Why…are you still alive…? Why do you keep coming back? Why…why can't I kill you? Why can't I surpass you for good? I had everything…everything on my side…

Bahamut glared back at him a moment longer, his face merciless and stone.

…The same reason I kept fighting when I was going to die, Wyvern. He answered after a moment. The same thing you couldn't understand. You see…I couldn't stop fighting because I wanted to. I couldn't even stop when my body ran out of energy…or was broken into pieces. It was something that, for thousands of years, you still don't get.

It's because I'm not fighting for myself. Palad…Rydia…Terra…Ragnar…all of them were counting on me. It wasn't just because they believed in me that I kept going. It was because I knew I was the only thing standing between them and death. My life was no longer mine to do with as I pleased when that happened. I had to keep going…because they needed me yet. And there are people who need me now. Perhaps my creations are doomed to die…but there will also always be people who need me to stand up for them…people who are powerless to stand up to people like you. And as long as they exist…I can never truly die, even if I wish to.

You think I've been selfish all these years, Wyvern. The truth of the matter is that I ceased having a life of my own the moment I stood up to face the Four Fiends. Since then…I became a greater servant than those beneath you. I serve the world, and I live and die for the people on it. Because of that…I can never stop. Not fighting you. Not fighting anyone who threatens this world or people.

I hoped one day you would understand this…understand why I did back at Terratopolis what I did. I hoped that one day…you would want to join my servitude. But I was a fool. I should have known that you would always be independent…the true, total independent…who feels nothing except care for himself. And I know now that you'll never understand. And as long as you don't…then I can't let you live knowing that you will not. As I said earlier, Wyvern…this ends today.

Wyvern continued to glare at Bahamut for a moment longer. His eyes were still a mixture of fear and rage, and he seemed unable to pick between which one he wanted to show the most of. He continued to slump, and his light flickered as he tried to keep on. In the end, he slowly looked behind himself. The sun was much larger now…almost large enough to encapsulate Wyvern in Bahamut's eyes, from that distance. Afterward, he turned back to the esper. His twisted, demented face continued to glare at him, ravaged by thousands of years of hate, fear, and greed.

So that's it… He finally said, his tone still weary. You figured it out… My body can continue to live so long as a part of it survives. That's why you've annihilated every piece you broke off from me. And now, you're going to force what's left of me into the sun…to burn up what even you can't destroy…

Bahamut glared back silently. He knew that Wyvern already knew that this was the truth. The shimmering creature glared at him a bit longer. He had lost his radiant look now. His twisted, sunken face made him look like the true monster he was. There wasn't even a shell left of what Wyvern had once been. He wasn't an esper or a creature of Gaia anymore. In the end…he managed the smallest of grins.

In that case…I have one final thing to enjoy on my way to the grave…assuming I even go there. Wyvern responded, his voice getting that wily edge on it again, and turning vile and wicked. I was built to live in space, Bahamut… Even without energy, I can survive. But you…you've been burning yourself out with that Supra-Velo, haven't you?

Bahamut didn't answer and didn't change.

A chuckle sounded in his brain. That means you're almost on your last legs…having drained any juice you have left in you out. Without it…there's no way you can survive in space. You're going to die out here…and this time, there's no one left to revive you. Not that it would matter… Without any energy reserves stored inside you, you'll still die.

As Wyvern spoke…Bahamut noticed that his wing flaps were beginning to extend. Not only that…but they soon began to ripple rather than shimmer…seeming to be moving into the core of Wyvern's body.

…Then I guess I'll just go out killing you, Wyvern, same as always. Bahamut answered. And this time…I'll really rest in peace…knowing that there's no way you can return. No magicite…no body parts left…nothing will be able to bring you back now.

Wyvern slowly managed to extend his wings to his sides. As he did…Bahamut started to sense something. His energy was beginning to increase again. And it was increasing quickly. He was drawing something into himself, and it was powering up his body once more. His glow was beginning to brighten again, and his grin started to widen.

Oh…don't worry, Bahamut…my body will still be in plenty of pieces. He chuckled. You see…this is as far as I go. All I have to do now is force out the last of your power. And I think my brand new Omni-Apex is suitable for that… He sneered in demented glee. Then you'll run out of juice, trying to stop it…and you'll be dead. But I'll still be around…to make my way back to Gaia once again… Meanwhile, what's left of you will go into the sun instead.

Bahamut didn't react to this. His face stayed cold. But in Wyvern's mind, he merely thought he was a fool. He had him now. His plan was perfect. He was just being egotistical, that was all… He thought he could stand up to this…an attack of the dead itself. He'd find out how wrong he was. Weakened as he had become, Wyvern knew he could make this last attack stronger. Already, the power he summoned was passing his own basal power level. It was steadily increasing faster. As Bahamut stood there defiantly, he began to chuckle louder in his brain. He'd never see it coming… He might even blow him away with this shot himself. What a treat…to see him burn…

This has to finish him…it has to! Nothing could survive it! The mad creature thought as his body continued to shimmer faster with its new pale light. He felt his own cells grow in heat and power…until he felt the energy he was draining begin to burn inside them. Yes…death was the strongest here. It had to be. It had been enough to turn the continents of Etteca into cinders…evaporate the oceans…turn that world into a lifeless rock… It would eliminate him…totally destroy him. There wouldn't be ashes left.

And yet, he wasn't moving.

Giving up, fool? The monster sneered in its growing-more-unstable mentality. Realizing that I'm still going to win? Realizing that all of this was for nothing? Keep standing there, imbecile! You're finished! I swear to you…I'm going to be the one to end this! ME!

Still nothing. Wyvern felt himself beginning to quiver with the new strength. The edges of his mouth began to split. His eyelids started to separate. His body began to get pulled tight around its synthetic frame. He was dripping with energy now, filling up and more and more power as he hovered there. But still, Bahamut wouldn't move. He continued to stand there and stare, not changing in the least. The thing grinned like a devil, seeing that his power was now greater…that there was no way that Bahamut could survive. He cracked his mouth open wide, and mouthed the words to his attack that couldn't be heard in the depths of space…

Mort-Pyrin.

The light seeped out of Wyvern, and he turned into a spectral creature of blackness as what appeared to be a beam of dark matter itself erupted from his face. The stars and the sun were blotted out as a sizzling, burning mass of black energy fire forth from Wyvern's open, taught face, and burst forward. Although it was black…soon the rest of space seemed to turn even darker around it. Some sort of energy cast off from it, bathing the pure black beam in the center in a haze of burning energy, like flames around a coal… But the center itself was darkness…and erupted forth with such speed that it appeared to immediately form a beam, and not have any beginning or end to it. And that beam immediately consumed Bahamut…who vanished into the burning darkness.

Wyvern continued to put out his power into it, blasting the beam further into space. In the void around him, he could see it continue to move…but it was already stretching for hundreds of miles…thousands of miles… Still it continued to burn. It ate away at the lining of the cavity in his mouth. His throat was vaporized. His teeth melted…and the edges around it were beginning to be destroyed. Such a horrible attack was never meant to be unleashed on anything…for there was nothing that could withstand it. But now…Wyvern's full measure of hatred and fear came out in it, desperate to see the ghost before it burn into nothing…

The thing pumped as much energy out as it could, desperate to spend the last of its force destroying him. He only had to destroy him…then it would be over. Over forever… He could come back, but he just had to kill him first…rid himself of the demon once and for all… It pushed more and more, straining itself and burning its own body away…just wanting to watch Bahamut die for good… Just having to finish him one last time…

At last, it gave out. The thing closed its mouth, and slumped over. Its power was nearly gone. Its body stayed dark, nearly black now. Only the orbs of its eyes continued to shimmer. The rest of it was totally drained. It looked ahead, and saw its black beam fade out into nothingness. The stars and light of the sun slowly began to fade in again. It was fortunate that no planet or moon had been in the path of this terrible weapon. If it had…it would have been severely damaged, and millions of lives annihilated. Fortunately, the deadly energy continue to spiral into space, leaving nothing in its wake…

Save for one thing.

The orbs grew lighter as Wyvern's eyes widened. His jaw loosened again…in total disbelief. He was right…he was a monster. He was a demon. He was a ghost… Slowly…he began to shrink back and cringe from it, cowering, overcome by his own madness…

Bahamut stood there, totally unchanged.

It…it's…not…not possible… The terrified being announced, trembling in fear at his still hard face. You…you…you're a monster…

The esper continued to stare silently.

Get…get away from me…you demon! You devil! Wyvern spat in terror, beginning to wave his arm in front of him, and shield himself behind his other. It was like a child wanting monsters to go away, and he whined as pathetically as one, hiding himself as best he could beneath his own arm.

Bahamut continued to glare at Wyvern a moment longer, his look cold and harsh. But then…to Wyvern's utter surprise, he vanished into thin air. One moment he was there…and the next he totally disappeared. The terrified creature dropped its arms, and looked up to see what had happened in astonishment. Bahamut was gone… But where? How…?

Then…Wyvern sensed the power.

At once, his face froze in a look of terror. His panicked mind registered it…the sametrick he himself had done before. He thought he had been obliterating Bahamut with the Mort-Pyrin. The truth was…he hadn't been aiming anywhere near him. He had been so enraged…so stricken with panic and disbelief…that he didn't realize that his own mind had a block put in it. And using it…Bahamut had easily moved around and out of the way, leaving only an image in his wake. He had been hovering just above the attack the entire time. But that wasn't the only thing that he had concealed while he had run…

He had also concealed his own growing power.

But now, Wyvern saw it. He couldn't look away now. He couldn't move. He couldn't do anything but hover there in shock and terror. Slowly…Bahamut lowered himself down in front of him. As he did…Wyvern saw rays of light radiating from his wings, fully extended and summoning power. His own body shimmered and glowed. The replacement was now complete. Wyvern was a dark, miserable creature…while Bahamut's own iridescent scales gleamed with power and might. He now was surrounded by pure, dazzling light as the energies of the living flowed into him. Not only of those he knew…not only of the denizens of the world…but the energy of the Lifestream itself flowed into him. His mouth was open, and the point on his mouth held back a great shimmering ball of gathering power. As he slowly let himself rest in front of Wyvern…the dark creature was overshadowed by the dazzling light. It was so intense that Wyvern could almost hear it…even though there was nothing around to make noise for it… His power not only transcended his by far now…but it surpassed his own Mort-Pyrin.

The dismal creature stared on at Bahamut…totally beaten. Its face was twisted away from evil now. It merely stared pathetically…sadly out at the death staring it in the face… There would be no coming back this time. No second chances. This was it…

For the briefest moment, sounding like the brother he once knew thousands of years ago, Wyvern meekly moaned in the esper's mind.

Big B…I…I don't want to die…

Without the slightest hesitation or pity, Bahamut opened his mouth.

Terra-Pyrin.

Wyvern's scream was swallowed up in the silence of space as his black body was speared on the dazzling white from Bahamut's mouth. The massive beam enveloped him and ripped him out of the sky, and soon hurtled him deeper through space…toward the great red orb just ahead. What was left of his body that wasn't fried began to vaporize immediately, the colossal white spear in his chest eating away even as it threw him deeper into space. The energy spread out, becoming a dazzling beam that seemed to dim the sun itself. Even Bahamut had to close his eyes to keep from being blinded by it. As for the great beam, it totally enveloped the creature, bathing him in its radiance and turning him white again as it bore him away.

The creature's last thoughts were of incredible agony as the energy broke off one piece of it after another. Each piece that came off of it was instantly obliterated. Each cell held as long as it could before bursting into white flame and disappearing. Wyvern's face melted and distorted, becoming a twisted blob version of what he had been. His body began to flatten and fragment, spreading more ashes in its wake that were too obliterated. And still…it was pushed closer and closer to the sun. The heat began to rain down on it, joining the heat of the Terra-Pyrin. It only grew hotter as he went closer and closer. The white beam finally began to die as Wyvern fell into the gravity of the sun itself. Then…yellow, burning light began to envelop him instead. The ooze that was left of his body boiled and began to snap and pop off. The fluid in his cells vaporized and lysed everything left in him. Still he fell…no longer able to stop himself…until he found himself being forced into one of the great flames of the sun itself…

Bahamut cut off the power at that, and clamped his mouth shut. He opened his eyes again, and glared out coldly at the sun before him. He had the strength to look into it now…and he watched the last of his Terra-Pyrin disappate. At the same time, he sensed ahead. Somehow, in spite of the enormous amount of energy pouring off of the star in front of him, he managed to scan for Wyvern. He caught the briefest trace of him for a moment…before that burned up as well. After that, he sensed nothing. The sun, oblivious to its victim, continued to rage and burn as it had for billions of years.

The esper stared at the great red orb for a moment longer, his look harsh and unmerciful. His pity had long been choked up by that thing. He hovered there frozen, continuing to look into the flames of the star, as if he could still see what was left of Wyvern vaporizing inside of it.

In the end…he slowly shook his head at it.

And in spite of everything else…he caught himself sending this mental message into the flaming orb in front of him.

…Goodbye, brother.


To be continued...