Pit wasn't sleeping, but he might as well have been.

Huddled under the covers of his bed, he lay motionless in his room. His Switch had fallen from his hands and onto the floor, as he had lost interest in the games he had been playing one by one. He probably should've plugged it in, but it wasn't that big of a deal. He doubted he'd have any more taste for them later than he did now.

His stomach rumbled. He ignored it. He was pretty sure he still had a slice of pizza in his minifridge. That would do. He couldn't finish it if he started it now, though. He'd wait half an hour, then grab it.

Knock knock

He frowned. Now who could that be? His friends had set up another hangout the last time they'd been together, but that wouldn't be for another day or so. "In a minute," he said reflexively.

"Open this door, Pit! Right now!" came the reply.

Pit's expression soured instantly. "Go away, Dark Pit," he said, turning over in his bed. Of course he would be the one to bother him.

"Pit, you gotta open this fucking door right the hell now!" Dark Pit called.

This comment gave Pit pause. Dark Pit's voice was high, and he was talking quickly. Almost like…he was scared? Nothing ever scared him.

Pit threw aside the covers. "Coming," he said.

As he got to his feet, he heard the doorknob rattling. "Come on, come on, come on," Dark Pit said urgently. Surprising himself, Pit started to hurry.

As soon as he got to the door and unlocked it, Dark Pit burst through. He slammed the door shut behind him, locked it again, then put his back against it, breathing heavily. "Ok, ok," he gasped, "we're good for now. I don't think he knows where you're staying."

Pit looked him up and down. His cheeks were flushed, and he was coated with sweat – especially on his face, where it almost looked like he'd been crying. "What's going on?" Pit asked. "What's gotten into you?"

"Talk later," Dark Pit said. "Right now, you need to run."

"What? Why?" Pit asked.

Dark Pit was shaking. "I fucked up, man. I really fucked up."

Pit rubbed his forehead. "Wait a minute. You messed up, but I need to run?"

"Yes!" Dark Pit shouted. "I asked someone for help on how to deal with you – uh, so we could fight again, you know? But he…he…" Dark Pit's voice trailed off.

"Who?" Pit asked.

Dark Pit didn't answer. But by the look on his face, he didn't have to.

Pit felt a shiver go down his spine. "Him?" he said fiercely. "Why would you ever-"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm a fucking idiot, we can do this later!" Dark Pit shouted. An idea seemed to strike him. "Gimme your robe," he said.

"Huh?" Pit said.

"Gimme your robe, and take mine. There's no way he'll be able to tell the difference between us, right?" He looked Pit up and down, and groaned. "Shit, you haven't taken a shower. He'll know you aren't me. Still, give me one of your spare robes-"

"Hold it!" Pit said. "Are you saying you want to be…bait?"

"No, not bait!" Dark Pit said. "Why would I wanna do that for you? It's, uh…a shell game! Haven't you ever seen movies?"

"So what, you just want me to let you face him alone?" Pit asked.

"For a bit, yeah!" Dark Pit said. "You go get help, I'll run interference!"

Pit shook his head. "I'm not gonna leave you to that psychopath," he said. "We face him together, or we run together."

"Oh, for fuck's sake," Dark Pit said, putting a hand to his face. "Why do you heroes always have to make this difficult?" He jabbed a thumb into his own chest. "I'm the one who fucked this up, so I'm going to fix it in whatever way I-"

BOOM!

A massive explosion blew the door off its hinges, sending it and Dark Pit flying. "Dark Pit!" Pit shouted.

Smoke from the explosion filtered into the room, obscuring the outside. Pit dashed to Dark Pit, who was now halfway pinned under the broken door. He grabbed the heavy metal door and lifted with all his might. Try as he could, though, he could barely move it.

What's going on? I should be able to lift this!

He heaved, arms and legs shaking uncontrollably, but he could barely move the thing. Already, he was starting to feel fatigued from it.

Dark Pit, meanwhile, had regained consciousness. He started to cough.

"Oh, you're okay!" Pit said with relief. "Now help me get this off you. If we both-"

"Dumbass," Dark Pit rasped. With the hand not underneath the door, he pointed at the doorway. "Run."

Pit looked up, and his blood ran cold.

The smoke had cleared, and a slender figure stood tall, framed by the light of the hallway. One hand rested lazily on the hilt of his blade. He looked down at them and chuckled.

"It seems I'm already down one opponent," Sephiroth said. "That's a shame, in a way. Still, perhaps that will further motivate her."

Pit said nothing. He stared at Sephiroth, frozen in fear like a deer in headlights.

Sephiroth tilted his head. "No brave words of heroic resistance?" he said mockingly. "As to be expected. Now, be a good little hero and hold still." He began to charge up a red flame in his hand.

"Do something!" Dark Pit shouted. The flame turned blue in Sephiroth's hand.

Pit was shaking all over. The flame turned yellow.

"Get moving right now, Pitstain, or we're both dead!" Dark Pit cried desperately.

Finally, Pit snapped out of it. With mere seconds left to live, he bolted forward and tackled Sephiroth, acting purely out of desperation.

Fortunately, Sephiroth was lighter than he expected. The flame winked out, and the two of them were flung into the hall. As quick as he could, Pit got to his feet and started running. "Help!" he called.

He didn't bother knocking on any of the doors he ran past, because he knew there was nobody behind them. He had chosen this room specifically to be out of the way of everybody else. Down here, there was nobody to disturb him. Nobody to bother him. Nobody to save him.

Snap

Pit turned around. Sephiroth had gotten to his feet again, and was approaching fast. He snapped twice more, then grinned.

Three dark orbs now swirled around Pit. He ran around a corner, but still they didn't dissipate. He swiped at them feebly with his blades – still no effect. Then, they flew inwards, coming right at him.

"S-stay back!"

Pit held up his Orbitars. All three orbs bounced harmlessly off of them. For a fraction of a second, Pit felt relief.

Swoosh

Sephiroth rounded the corner. Wordlessly, he drew his blade.

Crack

In just one blue, Pit's shields were shattered. The force of the impact knocked him to the ground. Sephiroth recovered his poise quickly, then drew back Masamune for another swing.

"Gah!" With all his energy, Pit flapped with his wings. The burst was just enough to propel him out of Sephiroth's range.

"My, aren't you slippery," Sephiroth said with a chuckle. "But you're almost out of tricks, aren't you?"

Pit fired an arrow. Sephiroth knocked it away with the back of his hand. Pit paled.

"Well, I suppose that answers my question," Sephiroth said. "Anything else?"

Pit looked around. Behind him was just another hallway, seeming to stretch on forever. Not even any doors to bang on if he wanted to.

He swallowed. Then, he pulled out his blades and assumed a fighting stance.

"Oh?" Sephiroth said. "Finally ready to fight, are we?" He noticed the tips of Pit's blades shaking. "Well, perhaps not. But I think I'll enjoy this anyway."

Pit ran forward and slashed. Sephiroth blocked lazily. Pit slashed a few more times, each time more desperate than the last. After less than a dozen swings, he fell to one knee, gasping for air.

Sephiroth's lip curled. "That's all?" he said. He raised his sword. Pit gulped down air and pushed himself back to his feet.

Masamune sliced through the air, the last couple feet of the blade cutting through the ceiling without slowing down. Pit barely got his blade up in time to deflect it, and the impact knocked him back a few steps.

"Weak," Sephiroth said, drawing back for another swing.

Pit tried to plead, but deflecting the next swing knocked the wind out of him.

"Weak!"

He drew back again, holding the sword with both hands. Pit raised both swords in defense.

"Weak!"

Pit and both of his swords feel to the ground, each bouncing along the ground. Pit landed on his chest and panted, whimpering.

Sephiroth fumed, glaring at the fallen angel while clenching his fists. Then he chuckled. "Seems I've worked myself up a little, eh?" He smoothed his hair and attempted to compose himself.

Pit scrabbled on the cold metal floor, trying to crawl away. Sephiroth advanced behind him at a leisurely pace.

"You may not believe me after that outburst, boy, but I actually don't care how strong or weak you are," he said conversationally. "Unless you are strong enough to be a threat to me – and how many could truly claim to be? - it's all the same to me. Should I really expect a thirteen-year-old to put up a decent fight against me? They rarely do, after all."

His brow furrowed. "But I've heard the things you've accomplished. You should be a better fight than this. You killed a god, did you not? Yet here you are, crawling along the floor, barely able to lift your swords!"

He grabbed Pit's head and lifted it. "And who is it that did this to you? Who made you weak?"

Pit flailed weakly. "Let…go…"

"Who was it?" Sephiroth demanded.

"…no…nobody…" Pit gasped.

"You did it to yourself!" Sephiroth shouted." He threw Pit to the ground. He pulled back to kick him, but again tried to calm down. "In the presence of no enemies, you brought yourself low! How can I afford respect to a man like that? What sense of accomplishment should I get from killing you? Anyone could kill you like this!"

He put his hand to his forehead and pulled his sword arm back. "Look at me, I've just gone and made myself angry over nothing," he said. "Perhaps I'll be doing the world a service, ridding it of you."

Then something jumped on his back. He felt cold steel press against his neck.

"Not another move!" Dark Pit shouted from behind him. "Or I'll slit your damn throat!"

Sephiroth raised an eyebrow, but otherwise honored his demand. "Oh?" he said. "Well, this is unexpected."

"Shut your mouth!" Dark Pit shouted. "Get up, Pit!"

Pit managed to push himself to his knees, then turned around. "D…dark Pit?" he managed. "What are you doing?"

Dark Pit rolled his eyes. "What the fuck does it look like, dumbass? I'm saving you!" he shouted. "Now get out of here!"

Pit glanced down the hall, then back at Sephiroth. "I can't just leave you to deal with him," he protested.

"And how much fuckin' help are you gonna be?" Dark Pit pointed out. "Get some help! Now!"

"But-"

"Run, Pitstain! I've got him where I want him!" Dark Pit insisted.

Pit hesitated, then dashed off down the hall again.

Sephiroth let out a low chuckle. "Do you, now?" he said.

"I said shut it!" Dark Pit shouted, voice cracking. "I told you, I'll kill you!"

Sephiroth smirked. "No, you won't," he said. "If you were going to, I'd already be lying on the ground, choking in a pool of my own blood." He turned his eyes towards the trembling Dark Pit. "You don't have that in you, to kill in cold blood."

"Oh yeah? J-just try me!" Dark Pit said, his voice belying the threat.

"Be careful what you wish for," Sephiroth laughed. Dark Pit felt ice run down his spine.

Sephiroth let a few more seconds pass before speaking again, letting Dark Pit stew in his own fear.

"Now, listen up, boy, I have a very important question to ask you," Sephiroth said. "Do you think you're faster than me?"

"What?" Dark Pit said. "T-that doesn't matter!"

"Oh, it's the only thing that matters at a time like this," Sephiroth responded. "You can't kill in cold blood. Which means I'll make my move-"

In a flash, Sephiroth reached up and grabbed Dark Pit's arm.

"-before you do," Sephiroth finished, grinning ear to ear.

Dark Pit twitched, but it was far too late. His left arm was now immobilized, crushed in Sephiroth's steely grip. His blade was frozen in place as well, a mere inch from its target, and when Sephiroth squeezed, he dropped it entirely. Dark Pit hissed in pain.

"You see," Sephiroth said as if nothing had happened, "even a coward can make a life-or-death decision in the heat of the moment." His grip tightened further. "Yet you failed even that."

Dark Pit struggled, trying to pry Sephiroth's fingers off, but it was no use. His grip on his sleeve was ironclad, not even a hint of weakness in-

The sleeve!

Dark Pit yanked his arm backwards, tearing it out of the maroon sleeve. Thus unanchored, he fell to the floor, miraculously landing on his feet. He turned around and bolted, hoping to at least make it around the corner.

It was a fool's hope, of course. He knew that even before he saw the red glow emanating from behind him.

Boom

The explosion knocked him off his feet, and he hit the floor hard. He frantically tried to stand up again, but before he could, Sephiroth loomed above him and stomped. He gasped as the wind was knocked out of him, and once again his head cracked against the floor.

"Scars on the back are a swordsman's shame," Sephiroth said, almost conversationally. "Did anyone ever tell you that? To flee from a battle is the highest disgrace." His brow darkened. "But I suppose it wouldn't matter if they had told you. You wear your shame right on your sleeve."

Dark Pit's left arm was a dark red mess. Dozens of cuts lined it, from elbow to near the wrist, some old, some new. Sephiroth was still holding the remnants of his red sleeve, and he threw it to the ground disdainfully.

"It's not just the back, you know," he said. "Every scar on a man's body tells a story. Each one represents a foe conquered, a worthy life snuffed out." He stomped on Dark Pit's arm. "What do you think these scars say about you?" he sneered.

Dark Pit screamed in pain, writhing on the floor before Sephiroth's boot returned to his back, pinning him once more.

"Pitiful. Truly pitiful," Sephiroth said. "You may even disgust me more than that brother of yours."

Dark Pit whimpered something into the floor.

Sephiroth put a hand to his ear. "What was that?" he asked, voice thick with mock concern. "You'll have to speak up, boy, I didn't quite hear you."

Dark Pit turned his head. "I came to you for help," he said, tears stinging his eyes. "I trusted you."

"And why should I be held accountable for your poor judgement?" Sephiroth said coldly.

Dark Pit started to speak again, but Sephiroth was done listening to him.

"Did you think your sycophancy would curry favor with me? That slathering me with praise and attention would earn you respect? Why should I care if anyone looks up to me, especially you?"

"I…I…"

"Or perhaps," Sephiroth snarled, "you saw something of yourself in me? I couldn't think of a more grievous insult! You're nothing like me, boy. Nothing."

He looked down at Dark Pit, and the two wings protruding from his back. An idea struck him.

"Then again, there's always room for improvement, isn't there?" he said with a cruel grin.

He grabbed onto one of Dark Pit's wings and pulled.

Dark Pit screamed in pain, but he could do little more than lie there and writhe.

"Stop squirming!" Sephiroth said as he pulled, shouting over the awful sound of tearing flesh. "Didn't you want to be more like me? And you love to inflict pain upon yourself, no less. This must be your dream come- Agh!"

Sephiroth let go of Dark Pit's wing as he, too, screamed out in pain. He clawed around behind him, reaching for the blade that had just dug into the small of his back.

"Stop it! Stop it! Stop it!" Pit shouted over and over as he stabbed and slashed at Sephiroth's back. Tears blurred his vision, and he swung his blades with no form or technique, just pure desperation.

"Gah!" Sephiroth wheeled around and grabbed Pit by the neck. He lifted him bodily and glared into his eyes as his one wing unfurled.

"Oh, how touching," he said through gritted teeth. "You've come back to save your 'friend.' But how can you save anyone when you're so WEAK!"

He threw Pit down the hall and stormed towards him, murder in his eyes.

"You two really are one and the same," he said, drawing Masamune one more time. "You render yourself weak by your own hands, then you have the gall to try and protect one another from your own actions. But look at you. You can't even protect your own selves. And how do you expect to save the ones you care about…"

He raised the sword above his head.

"…when you're already dead?"

Suddenly, a flash of light enveloped the hallway. Sephiroth raised a hand in front of his eyes. Before the light had faded, he felt something cold and metallic against the back of his head.

"You fucked with the wrong kids!" Bayonetta shouted. She pulled the trigger.

BANG

There was nothing afterwards. No screams, no sounds of desperation. The first noise to be heard was the empty shell from her gun hitting the floor.

Clink

Then Sephiroth hit the floor.

CLANG

Already returned to trophy form, his lifeless head smashed into the floor, sounding almost like a gong being struck. Bayonetta kicked the statue to make sure it was truly static. Then she rushed to Pit's side.

"Are you all right, child?" she asked. "Pal sent me as fast as she could."

Pit, still gasping for breath, nodded. Then he pointed to Dark Pit.

"Oh dear," Bayonetta said. She dashed over to him. "Boy! Are you all right?"

Dark Pit said nothing. He was openly bawling now, lying in a pool of his own blood and feathers, and little she could say would fix that.

"Oh my, look at what he did to you," she said painedly. She glowered at the statue on the floor. "That disgraceful monster, going after children…" She gathered Dark Pit in her arms, hoisting him gingerly while trying to keep his injured wing motionless. "Well, we'll see he gets what's coming to him. For now, we need to get you to Pal."

She beckoned Pit. "Over here, child. It's easier for her if we're all closer together." As he ran near, she turned her attention to Dark Pit. Bedside manner and children were two areas far from her forte, but she did her best. "There there, boy. You're safe now."

Pit closed the distance to her, then hugged her, just to be on the safe side. And in a flash of light, they vanished. Then the hall was empty once more, with only the cold metal walls standing as witnesses to the battle that had unfolded before them.