A/N: I've been procrastinating on this so hard. I don't want to finish this story but I do ugh it's been a nightmare pft. Just this one and an epi left /teardrop

Enjoy~

Solemnly, the group of fifteen walked side-by-side down what was once Main Street. Eyes flickered towards the decayed ruins of what were once thriving business, homes, places that made South Park what it once was. It was a disgrace to see it lying in such chaos. Boarded windows, crumbling brick, climbing foliage; it was nothing more than a reminder of what had become of them: Their own personal Apocalypse. As many times as they had snuck down this street in the hopes of scrounging up food or supplies, none of them had ever taken the time to notice just what a mere two years had done to their town. There was too much at stake to go sight seeing. Now they knew that they were at the thrall of the final showdown, the one that determined whether or not they could keep it as their town. Last looks were a prevalent idea amongst the team.

"You are sure about zhis, Kyle?" Christophe murmured from the other side of Kenny at the redhead.

He nodded, "Everyone should be in position. All we can do is hope the commander is willing to cooperate with me."

Stan placed a hand on his shoulder and shook him lightly, "He will. If you're that important to him, he'll bend." Kyle remained silent but nodded, his heart going a mile a minute. He knew everything was once again resting on him. He had a lot to accomplish, a lot of talking smoothly that he would have to somehow manage under the immense pressure of it all. Usually, such a task wouldn't have bothered him so much, but this was on a whole new level that was racking his nerves furiously.

They came within sight of the main building, each of them tensing as they noticed the large blockade of Rats staring at them, Peter at the front grinning brilliantly at the redhead. "All of you...be careful," Kyle muttered. The team looked at him and he bit his lip, knowing that all fourteen of their lives rested on this moment going the way he planned. He could only hope that he wasn't leading them straight to their execution.

"Mr. Broflovski!" Peter called out, nodding in approval. "You're five minutes early! I enjoy it when my soldiers are so punctual."

Kyle growled under his breath and stopped his walk, his team stopping with him about twenty feet from the mass of men before them. Forest eyes scanned over the enemy and he licked his lips. "All right, here's the deal," he called out to the man. He gestured his arms out towards the side at his teammates. "This is my entire team. I brought them all along to show you that I am not going to be pulling any funny business. I expect the same treatment from you as well."

"But of course," the man smiled.

"Then I'm going to kindly ask that your men lie their guns down over there," he pointed towards the woods adjacent to the front of the building. "You may frisk the lot of us if you suspect us to be carrying any weapons, but I assure you, we are not. We want this to be a negotiation, not a bloodbath."

Peter paused, glancing down the line in front of him and nodding subtly. He looked back at his team. "Fifteen of you, walk over and check them. The rest of you, comply with Mr. Broflovski's wishes and lie your rifles down."

The Rats looked at each other suspiciously, knowing better than to question the man standing before them aloud. A group towards the front set off towards the kids, their guns strapped to their backs. Each teen spread their arms and legs as they were approached, allowing callused hands to pat over their combat uniforms without uttering the barest of discontented sounds. Kyle's eyes flickered to Stan and Kenny's on either side of him, reminding them not to lose their cool, knowing that this was going according to Kyle's plan and to stick it out.

"Clean!" the Rat frisking Craig shouted. A chorus of echoes followed as each Rat completed their task, backing away from the group towards their own.

"Excellent," Peter nodded. "Put your weapons with the rest," he instructed his men. They slowly made their way over, still eyeing the resistance hesitantly as they placed their rifles into the grass. Peter waited for them to rejoin the group before smiling once more at Kyle. "All right, how is that?"

"Thank you," he said, feeling nauseated from having to utter those words to the enemy. He cleared his throat. "Let me ask you, Peter, how much of your team is here in front of us?"

"All but fifty and a couple strays hanging around as guards," he quirked his brow amusedly. He jerked his head to the main building, "The group of fifty are running paperwork that needs filled by tonight. I wanted the men to know just who it is they'd be working for," he pointed at the redhead. "They need to know that despite your age, you will be leading their forces."

"Hm," Kyle mused, nodding a bit and looking around at the team before him. "If you recall, Peter, I explicitly said I wouldn't speak business with you until I was given a written contract of your promise."

"But of course," he bowed theatrically, raising his finger and jerking it forward. A pencil-thin man with tortoise-shell glasses came up beside him, brandishing a piece of paper before the rebellion.

"The commander believed to have you give the terms of the contract to be in everybody's best interest," the man said meekly.

Kyle smirked, crossing his arms and jutting his hip to the side. "Man, you really want me with ya, dontcha Pete?"

The man grinned and nodded, "That I do." He turned towards his team, pointing to two members. "You two, go get us that table in the front lobby, hm?" he nodded. They hurried and ran off into the main building to do as requested, looking back at the opposition. "I feel as though you brought your friends for more than just my reassurance, Kyle."

He nodded softly. "Indeed I did. If I'm joining your team, they are, too," he gestured towards either side of himself. "These fourteen are the best fielders, runners, intel, and nurses you could ask for. I believe it's only fair. I get to keep my friends, and you get extra reinforcements."

Peter's brows raised, surprised. "I'm shocked that they would be so comfortable with joining the very team they've worked so long to dismantle."

"They're not," he said placidly. "But we're a team. If one of us goes, the others follow. You think you need my leadership? These guys have been the ones working under me, they know they need me," he scoffed.

"Oh really?" Peter chuckled.

"Eet iz true," Christophe replied cooly. "Kyle iz ze only one of us who can figure out 'ow to survive. Eef 'e goes, ze rest of us will not know what to do."

"Ah, the mercenary," Peter nodded approvingly. "I will say having you on the team would be a nice benefit."

"He's the one who trained me," Kyle raised his brow. "If he can take a scrawny 100 pound nerd and make him into something that Vivification wants, then he's obviously going to be an asset to you."

"And the rest?" Peter asked expectantly. "Don't get me wrong, I trust your judgement, Mr. Broflovski. But I like to know my workers before I sign them on."

He nodded, "Understandable, you're a thorough thinker like myself." He turned and walked to the end of the line, gesturing to a cluster. "These are Token, Clyde, and Craig," he introduced them. "These three have been on the field and are great with following directives and helping execute distractive measures." He continued down. "Wendy, Bebe, and Rebecca here are our nurses. They've done everything from putting on band-aids to digging a bullet out of my arm with a knife. They know their shit and will help your medical team immensely."

"Impressive," he nodded. "I do apologize you were injured as such."

"It was before you knew what I was capable of," he raised his brow. "Had this been two years ago, you would have just demanded to know why they missed my head."

Peter shrugged, "All about the main objective, Kyle."

"Hm," he growled to himself. "These are Tweek, Butters, Cartman, and Kenny," he gestured to the lot of them. "They ran our supply raids and were our runners. Except for Fatass here, he just planned them," he jerked his head back to Cartman.

"Fucking Jew," Cartman muttered.

The man snorted, "Well I can see you two aren't the best of friends. But good on you for making it through together to the end."

"Yeah, well, no one is allowed to kill Fatty here but me," Kyle established, smirking at Cartman and continuing down, ignoring the glare he received. "You know Christophe obviously," he waved at him dismissively. "This is Stan," he jerked his thumb towards his best friend. "Best goddamn shot with an M16 you fuckers have ever seen."

"Ah yes, I remember you," Peter raised his brow. "You took down a line of 20 men not three weeks ago."

"And I'd do it again if I had to," Stan challenged, crossing his arms firmly.

"Bloodlust, I like it," he smiled. "Impressive shooting for sure, if this all goes well, perhaps we'll have you be the firearm instructor."

"Happiest of days," Stan scoffed. He lessened his stance as Kyle touched his arm. He had to calm down, he'd blow it all if he was a bit too snarky. He shot the redhead and apologetic shrug and the boy grinned a little at him, patting his arm and hitting the end of the line.

"These are Gregory and Ike," he said. "They ran intel with me. If I do decide to join you, they will be working with me. Especially him," he placed a hand on Ike's shoulder.

"Ah, your adoptive brother?" he nodded.

"No. Just my brother," Kyle scowled. Ike made a face at the man and he chuckled.

"That's fine with me," he nodded. "I know both of you were excellent students, I can only imagine he's nearly as good as you are on the field."

"Maybe even better," Kyle squeezed Ike's shoulder, the lot of all of them looking as the two Rats came back with a table.

Peter scoffed, "Took you long enough, Men."

"Apologies, Commander," one saluted as they set it in front of him. "Had to remove paperwork and one of the office workers started yelling at us."

Peter snorted, "Henry?" they nodded. "Ah that little nerd," he shook his head, looking back at Kyle with a grin. "You'd like him, Kyle. He's very proud of his work just like you are."

"I do my work out of necessity," he replied cooly. "Henry just couldn't get a job in an actual workforce."

Peter smirked. "Well, shall we?" he gestured to the paper on the table. Kyle took a deep breath, holding up his hand to stop his team from following him as he made his way to the center, staring across the table from the man. Those hazel eyes filled him to the brim with rage, but he pushed it down, retaining his calm demeanor.

"First thing's first," Kyle started. "If I join you, absolutely no kids from South Park are to be harmed..." he glared. "That includes your medic worker, Michael."

Peter blinked at him confusedly. "I'm sorry?"

"He grew up with us," he frowned. "I want him brought out to me. Now. I want him as part of my team as another medic."

"His enlistment form said he was from Boulder," he quirked a brow.

"He lied," Kyle said simply. "He just didn't want to admit he was from here. But he was one of us, and I want him to stay as one of us. I want him out here now."

Peter nodded slowly, turning back, "You," he pointed to a Rat, "Get the medic out of his holding cell and bring him out here. No need for cuffs or any of the sort."

"Sir, yes sir!" he saluted, walking off towards into the building to retrieve the boy.

"Thank you," Kyle nodded. "Second...I want you to tell me exactly what happens once I sign this paper."

Peter chuckled, "Well, you and now I guess your little friends, will be transported to our home base. You'll be kept there for about a month, we'll get you re-trained for our side, and once you have demonstrated your loyalty to our cause, you'll be back with us on the field. You will be placed as lead general, only reporting to me, and your friends will go wherever you wish them to."

"Who's general now?" he raised his brow.

Peter chuckled lightly, "No one. You killed him in the hallway yesterday."

Kyle smirked back, "Oops. Guess you could say I'm more than competitive in the job market."

"Which is what we're looking for," he nodded. "Ruthless on and off the field. It's something we require out of all our leaders."

Kyle just let out a deep breath. "What will happen to South Park?"

"We will leave," he shrugged. "We'll find a group to raise money to help re-open the town to the general population and rebuild it. It's the government, Kyle, we can do that very easily."

"I highly doubt with this country's deficit there's funding to build an entire town from the ground up," he said lowly.

Peter chuckled, "But you forget: South Park is a failed government project. There's always money to cover up where the most powerful force in the country made a mistake."

"Guess I shouldn't be surprised at that," he rolled his eyes, watching the lawyer scribing their terms onto the contract. "Is there anything that you're hiding from me in the midst of this all, Peter?"

"Such as...?"

He crossed his arms and glared at him a bit. "I want to know if I sign this contract, what you're going to do with me and my team. Are we going to be treated as comrades of yours or are you going to cuff us and dose us up on Lorazepam?" he narrowed his eyes. "As you can fucking tell," he brandished his gauzed wrists, "I'm not willing to let my teammates go through that Hell."

"If you can prove to us your compliance, then no, you will be treated as the rest of our team is," he explained. "Mr. Broflovski, you were only treated so harshly because of your insistence on killing everyone."

He shrugged, "Can ya blame me?"

He snickered, "I suppose not..." he glanced over and smiled. "Ah, here's our little liar now."

Kyle looked over at Michael being walked towards the table, his brow raised. "Broflovski? The fuck are you doing?"

"Getting all the South Park kids safe," he responded, grabbing his arm and ripping him from the Rat's grasp and putting him beside him. "You all right?" He nodded, watching him in confusion. "Good. Go stand with my team," he directed. "You're one of us now," he smirked. "Welcome to the conformists." Michael shook his head with a thinly-veiled grin, making his way towards the resistance.

"See, Kyle? I'm willing to bend," Peter nodded. "You just have to be willing to meet me halfway."

Kyle took a deep breath and nodded. "I don't see how using terrorism against me is 'bending' but I'll allow it."

"It's for everyone's benefit, Kyle."

"Except the parents of another town that you plan to slaughter."

"Sacrifices have to be made for the greater good," he insisted. "You'll see once we get our country to the point where no one will be willing to take us on."

He shook his head, "I told you, there will always be a rebelling force, no matter how 'perfect' your ideals are. If I was King of the World, and said that every Tuesday was Free Pancake Day, I'd have an army of Waffle-sympathizers and Gluten-Free hippie fucktards trying to assassinate me for my 'evil ways'. You really think that a child army is going to earn you brownie points with other countries? Even our allies will think you've gone too far."

"Not once they see what we can do with such a force," he said softly. "Kyle, there are two options here for you: Either you join us and lead the army or you don't join and we kill off your town and still have our army. You get to make the call."

Kyle looked at the contract, breaking into a cocky smirk and laughing softly. "Actually, Peter, there's a third option."

"Oh?" he cocked his brow.

Kenny's words rang through his mind and his devious grin grew wider. "I'm Kyle fucking Broflovski. There's always a third option." He let Peter stare at him confusedly before screaming "NOW!"

The Rats darted their heads over in shock as a barrage of children darted from the woods, covered in dirt and leaves. Grubby hands quickly snared the Rat's guns, clicking off their safety's and pointing them at the war-hungry adversaries. They positioned themselves in a line, surrounding the Rats between themselves and the main building.

Peter looked at the boy with narrowed eyes and Kyle crossed his arms as the remaining open sides became filled with children as well. "Where did you-"

"You really should keep a supply building better protected," he interjected amusedly. "Only thirteen men? Come now, Peter. I never would have made such a critical error of judgement. No wonder you need me so much."

"Sir? Orders?" A Rat urged, staring at a kid looking like they had a hell of an itchy trigger finger.

Peter let his eyes glance around at the thrall surrounding them, his lips in a grim line. "You disappoint me, Mr. Broflovski."

"Disappoint or impress?" he challenged.

He smirked a bit. "Both," he growled, grabbing Kyle's shirt and wrenching him forward, slamming him down into the table. "Hold him!" he directed towards a few of the Rats, letting four of them come over to flip over and secure the redhead down as he thrashed atop the maple furniture.

"LET GO!" he screamed. Peter frowned, grabbing his hair and yanking his head over the edge of the table, his neck resting on the sharp corner.

He looked at Kyle's team starting to advance and shook his head. "You come any closer, I snap his neck on the table," he warned. The group paused, looking at each other with conflicted eyes.

"GUYS JUST FUCKING ATTACK HIM FOR FUCK'S SAKE!" Kyle shouted, trying to twist out of each death-lock on his limbs.

"Non," Tophe said softly. "Let 'im go," he looked at the man firmly.

Peter rolled his eyes and glanced towards the kids, still staring at the Rats with their weapons ready to go. "Children, you do realize that this is pointless?" he said quietly. "If this boy here would have just agreed to go with us, we would have let you be."

"You killed our parents!" a kid screamed.

"You don't get to walk away from that!" Another joined.

He shrugged, twisting his fingers deeper into Kyle's hair and making him wince. "It was for you, kids. It was so you'd grow strong."

"All you did was starve us and kill us off," An older girl said with narrowed eyes, pointing her gun at his face. "You tried to break us, not make us strong."

"One must be weak before they are strong," he smiled gently. "Look at this one," he nodded towards Kyle, pulling his hair down roughly and watching him grit his teeth in pain. "He said it himself. He was a scrawny 100 pound weakling. Now look at him," he glared. "Convinced an entire town to betray their government."

Kyle snarled up at him, "You aren't our government! You were right, this is fucking 'Lord of the Flies'. You took away our basic human rights, segregated us from the rest of our country. Well now we've established our own form of power, and we're not fond of a dictator trying to impede our rights, you son of a bitch!" he glanced towards the kids and narrowed his eyes. "Stan, go!"

Stan ran over towards the crowd, catching Sparky being thrown to him by one of his squadron and pointing it at Peter. "Here's the deal, Buddy," he snarled, taking slow steps around to get in front of him, Kyle watching him and grating his lip. "You let go of him, and I won't shoot you through the fucking throat."

"Oh really?" he challenged.

"My bullets are faster than your hand, I can fucking guarantee it," he glowered. "All of you and your little buddies? You're going in the building," he flickered Sparky's barrel towards the Nest.

"Gonna lock us in and make a grand escape, are you?" he smirked.

"Would you rather that, or would you rather I let these kids use you all as target practice?" he glared.

"FUCK!" a scream from the back of the Rats broke through. Peter and the other Rats glanced, Kyle and Stan sharing a look with each other. Stan grunted, firing three quick shots into Kyle's holders, sending them down onto the ground. Kyle spat out their blood that sprayed into his mouth, contorting his body around and kicking the remaining holding his arm back into the crowd. He threw himself off the table, Peter snaring his arm. The redhead snarled, sending a quick fist into the man's nose. Peter released him, grabbing at his injured face as Kyle backed up beside of Stan.

"Grab him! NOW!" the man ordered.

"Anyone makes one move towards him and I shoot them down," Stan promised, placing himself in front of the redhead. Kyle glanced over to their team, seeing only Cartman standing in place, waiting for his signal. Kyle motioned him back and the brunette darted through the wall of kids to get to his own objective.

"WE GOT MEN DOWN OVER HERE!" A Rat shouted, staring in horror at the back end of his team, maybe thirty throats slashed open and bleeding profusely onto the dirt. Soldiers twitched silently from the assault, reaching towards nothingness in the prayer of a miracle. A tap on his shoulder turned his attention to a very happily grinning Christophe.

"'ello, I am pest control," he smirked before stabbing the man down in place. "Keeds!" he shouted, "Back to ze guns!" He and his team of Bayonet-wielding children quickly shuffled back towards their better-armed counterparts, sliding in behind them to stop any Rats from coming for them. "Excellent job," he nodded approvingly. "We got a good deal of zhem." The kids smiled widely, blood caked over their tired faces in macabre masks. The Frenchman couldn't help his proud smile before turning back to watch the leaders duking it out from beyond the crowd.

"In the building, Peter," Kyle ordered from the center of the stand-off. "We outnumber you two to one at least.It's time for you to get the fuck out of South Park."

"Oh?" he lowered his hand from his face, his nose bleeding and his eyes brimming with a touch of madness. "What do you think will happen once you leave? You think that you're going to escape, Mr. Broflovski? We'll find you. We'll find you and make our decision on whether to kill you or not when the time comes."

"I'd rather die for my town than live for your mission," he said lowly, standing beside Stan firmly. "Into the building."

"Or. What?"

Kyle smirked. "Glad you asked." He turned to the kids and narrowed his eyes. "M500's, one round, go!" he shouted, himself and Stan ducking to the ground and covering their ears, watching a barrage of bullets begin flying into the mass of targets. The sound of cocking shotguns echoed into the stillness of the air before another set of bullets went flying. Kyle and Stan watched as Rats grabbed their arms or fell to the ground. Screams flew through the air above the sounds of the firings. Kyle couldn't help but grin at Peter's look of abject horror at the scene, huddled under the table and watching his team getting blown away. Another three rounds of shots went through before it all fell still, Kyle and Stan clambering back onto their feet.

"Hm," Kyle said, rubbing his ringing ears and grinning cockily. "Five shots times sixty kids gives us 300 shots," he glanced around at the carnage before them. Fallen Rats either stilled or screaming in anger and agony. Those unharmed knelt down beside their brothers, trying to stop the blood from rushing out of their comrades with their bare hands.

"You son of a bitch!" a Rat with a profusely bleeding shoulder screamed. "I knew we shouldn't have tried to get a fuckin' kid like you in on the team!"

"Shut up, Reggie," Peter ordered. "Stand down and work on your wounds." The Rat angrily shut his mouth, clutching at the pain desperately, blood spurting through his fingers.

"Well, Peter, just from a quick glance I'd say there's about...150 of you left, give or take," Kyle shrugged. "I suggest you do as we say before we make it lower."

Peter glared at him, staring at the children surrounding them with cautious eyes. He looked to his army and snarled. "These are children!" he reminded them. "You can take them! Rush them and show them no mercy!"

"Ken, Craig, now!" Kyle shouted.

"C'mon kids!" Kenny's bright, wild smile broke through the crowd amongst his Beretta-wielding team. "Ky, Stan, Back off!" They tried to quickly retreat before Peter lunged forward, grabbing Kyle and sending him sprawling onto the ground, ducking as bullets hazed over their heads.

"Back off, Stan!" Kyle screamed as he was dragged under the gunfire. Stan watched helplessly, knowing full and well that the man was holding Kyle way too closely for him to able to take him out without hurting the redhead. He watched the man drag him under the table towards the Nest, Kyle kicking and lashing out at him all the way.

Kenny's sharp eyes picked up the flailing boy and he panicked, looking at Stan for an answer. The noirette was trying to find the right route to get through the gunfire, watching his best friend getting dragged towards that damnable building again.

"Ransom works, too," Peter growled at the thrashing boy. "You call off them and I let you out of here alive." Kyle shook his head furiously, baring his teeth and trying to break the hold by kicking out at him. He screeched, letting his head fly down and sinking his teeth into the man's arm, shaking his head around like a rabid dog and snarling. Peter let go of him, hissing and watching the blood rushing down his arm. Kyle broke off of him, looking at him with red-stained teeth showing prominently amongst his dirtied face. The sound of bullets whizzing around them seemed to still for a brief moment, both of them realizing simultaneously that only one of them was going to make it out alive today.

And Kyle would be damned if it wasn't going to be him.

He quickly dove out of Peter's reach again, edging along the side of the building quickly towards the end Kenny's team was shooting from. He gulped as a bullet came dangerously close to his hand, spraying a bit of grass onto his skin. He grit his teeth, shuffling his legs faster towards them, kids noticing his efforts and turning their guns more towards the side, letting him have the clearance he needed to return to safety. Kyle said a silent, thankful prayer as he managed to make it through, two of them helping him up to his feet. He ran along the back of them, touching each of their shoulders and getting them to stop their assault.

"Kyle?" Ken asked, panting, his gun falling down to his side and taking his earplugs out. "Dude, are you okay?"

The redhead nodded, flickering his eyes back up to the Rats, their numbers dwindling still. "Jesus, there's still about eighty of them left," he murmured.

"These kids have never shot before," Ken shrugged. "The fact that they're hitting anything is a miracle."

Kyle sighed, watching Peter glaring at him from the middle of the ring. "Give up, you fucker!" he demanded.

"We don't 'give up'," he hissed.

"All right, fine." He glared, looking up towards the back side of their team. "RUSH 'EM!" he shouted. The teams of rifles and shotguns quickly swarmed in together in a cluster, surrounding the remaining Rats threateningly.

"Get. In. The. Building," Stan hissed from the forefront. The men looked at each other, then down to their fallen comrades, then to Peter. Collectively, they raised their hands in defense, slowly making their way towards the doors.

"Remainder, surround the building!" Kyle screamed out, letting the handgun operatives run from the front and scatter themselves along every window around the threshold of the Nest, holding their guns towards them and ready for any potential escapees. Kyle looked at his teammates still left. "Token and Clyde, man the back! Craig, you take the East, Tophe, grab a M16 and stay at the west!" They all spread out to his commands, leaving himself and Kenny watching as the Rats were herded in, only Peter refusing to give way. His hazel gaze was entranced on the redhead shouting orders, his face still smeared with the man's blood.

"How have none of us gotten hit?" Kenny asked in wonder.

Kyle chuckled breathlessly, "Because. We're fucking South Park. Shit happens and we drive right on through it." He looked up and winked at the blonde, the both of them moving towards the last of the Rats being filed in. "You, too, Commander," Kyle mocked, staring Peter down stubbornly.

"I don't think so," he glared, stepping towards the redhead. Kenny went to raise his gun and Kyle stopped him. The man was at the end of his rope. He knew he was going to lose. He stopped in front of the boy, his eyes dangerously narrowed. "So. You have my men cornered. Now what? You can't all run if you're keeping them in there."

Kyle raised his brow, smiling. "Who said we were running?" Peter looked at him, befuddled. "Cartman!" Kyle looked out back towards the woods in front of the building and screamed. "Ready?!"

Cartman stepped out, his M32 preciously held in his hands as he set it on his shoulder, aiming towards the window into the front of the building. "Ready when you are, Jewboy!"

"TEAM, SCATTER!" Kyle screamed, all the kids running out from different directions far and wide behind hills. Stan, Ken, and Kyle ran over behind Cartman, leaving Peter behind looking at them in horror. "GO!" Kyle commanded.

Cartman gritted his teeth, letting his finger press on the trigger, jerking back with the heavy recoil bounding onto his bone. They watched the first grenade fly in through the glass, a heavy explosion breaking through a mere moment later. More glass from the rest of the building flew outwards, the clear sound of pained screams following.

"All six, Cartman!" Kyle shouted over the chaos. The brunette smiled devilishly, letting the remaining five rounds sail through various windows. The four in front watched with gleaming eyes as the building continued to rupture, each impact shaking the whole damn thing. Kyle smirked, backing up into the trees and grabbing his LMT and a special grenade he'd found before they left hidden in a padded bag under Cartman's ammo.

"The fuck is that?!" Stan shouted over the flurry of sounds.

"A Hellhound!" he grinned deviously, loading it onto his launcher and standing beside Cartman. "Get ready, this one will hurt!" he shouted, letting his finger pull back on the trigger. They each watched as the long missile set out towards the main window, sailing through smoothly and they waited. They all recoiled as a violent, massive explosion took out the western corner of the building, the stone beginning to topple down onto itself.

"Holy fucking shit!" Kenny screamed. A massive fireball spit out from the Nest. The four of them ran a bit deeper into the woods, huddled together as a cloud of dust and debris flew towards them, shielded only by each other and the massive evergreens before them. They clutched onto each other as the roaring heat of the fire seemed to follow them, each of them only praying that the rest of the kids had gotten far enough away per Kyle's commands.

The first wave finally died off and they dared to look at the carnage as a loud, crashing noise prevailed through the air. They got to their feet, walking back out towards the destruction as the Nest collapsed on top of itself, nothing but a pile of concrete and billowing fire.

"Holy..." Stan stared, his mouth agape.

"We actually..." Cartman blinked.

"We fucking did it!" Kenny finally broke out, jumping up and down and beaming. "Kyle, you fucking did it!" He wrapped his arm around Kyle's shoulder and shook him. The redhead stared at the twisted pile of rubble, the smoke billowing towards the evening sky. He gulped, unable to fully comprehend just what they had accomplished.

A hand on his shoulder spun him around and a fist flew into his face, his eye becoming blinded in the impact, sending him sprawling out onto the dirt. He looked up, wincing at the blood pouring down his face from scraping against debris on the ground, seeing Peter standing in front of him, panting, death raging through his eyes. He shook in pain, getting to his feet, the remaining three running over beside him. "You little fuck!" he spat. "Do you have any idea what you've done?!"

Kyle panted, looking from the extreme heat behind him to the man in front of him and smirking. "Yeah. We fucking beat you, that's what. We're not part of your little experiment anymore. It's over."

Peter's glare slowly lessened and he stared at the redhead with unreadable eyes. "You really think so, huh?"

"Yeah," he wiped some blood from his cheek and cringed at the contact.

"Funny," he huffed, a small smirk over his face. "Our job, Mr. Broflovski, was to make children soldiers," he reminded him, stepping forward a bit. "Soldiers who would fight to the bitter end. Ones that would see bloodshed and think nothing of it, only satisfied with getting their man..." he bent down in Kyle's face, which fell at his words. "Looks to me like South Park was a success." He cocked his brow and raised back up, staring at the four of them satisfactorily. "I told you you would lead an army, Mr. Broflovski. You said you never would...but look at the suffering you've caused," he gestured to the wreckage behind them. "Look at all the lives you've taken."

"An eye for an eye," Stan said darkly. "You took more of us than we ever could have taken from you."

"Perhaps," he shrugged.

"No, no 'perhaps'," Cartman mocked. "We just survived. You were here for fun but we got our fucking freedom, you raging faggot."

"Hm, but look at what it cost you," he looked at Kyle and smirked. "Your innocence." Kyle flinched at the word, staring at him through his good eye, green racked with overwhelming emotion.

"We lost our innocence when you killed our families," Kenny spat, baring his teeth. They all looked around as the kids started filing back towards them. All of them but Kyle and Peter, who couldn't tear their eyes off of one another's.

Peter chuckled at the redhead's lost expression. "Hm. Well. You've defeated us, sure. Definitely got your revenge. Locked on your target. Didn't stop until they were dead. A noble cause, to be sure," he grinned slyly. Kyle bit his lip, his eyes flickering to every angry face locked on Peter's. Every bloodstained gun and face staring with nothing but lust to make him pay for his sin.

He took a deep, shuddery breath and shook his head subtly. He reached over and grabbed Kenny's Beretta out of his hand, cocking it and holding it to Peter's forehead, who just smiled at him knowingly. Kyle grit his teeth, letting the trigger fly back and the recoil send his arm into a violent shock. They watched the blood spray across his face, his victim falling to the ground in a silent heap. Copper filled the air, every child looking at Kyle as he stared down at his last kill. For the first time, words couldn't come to him, there was nothing to be said about what he'd just done. He could feel Kenny and Stan placing their hands on his shoulders in comfort, but paid them no mind.

His dull eyes drifted up into the lavender-soaked twilight, smoke pulsing against it like a ruthless song. The blood dripping down his face and neck clung to him like dust, light and arid, musty and unsettling. He didn't feel them at first, hadn't noticed the slightest change as lukewarm tears began to run down him as well, co-mingling with the blood into a pink stream. He let loose a sob, falling weakly down to his knees and refusing to let his head drop down to the man who lay dead at his feet. Various voices called out to him, tried to hold him, but he couldn't be bothered to pay the slightest bit of attention.

Silence fell over them as they watched their fearless leader convulsing in sobs, none of them having the slightest idea of how to proceed. Finally, an unspoken resolve settled amongst the tense crowd. Nothing filled the air but the sound of a crackling fire, and Kyle's morbid mourning.

A/N: Only an epilogue left T-T

Thanks for R&Ring!