"I'm getting too damned old for running like this!"

Embyr rolled her eyes as the Gallade puffed behind her. Desert, however, was still partially in shock from the realization of the 'crimes' that her companions had committed, and was shaking her head in disbelief still. "How... how could you do that? You can't just go around stealing stuff like that! It's wrong!"

"Oh, please," Embyr sighed. "We were just getting supplies. Would you rather we have died out here instead?"

"Maybe I would have, thank you very much!"

"For God's sake," Dark growled, "would you pipe down? We were just liberating a few objects. I mean, it's not like I killed everyone in town and then took a three-hour blood-bath for dessert."

The two Fusions looked back at him, stunned. Okay, that one had come right out of the blue.

...And was that drool coming out of the corner of his mouth?

But all those questions were forgotten as a loud rumble shook the air, and sent the three flying to the sand. Desert quickly regained her feet, and scanned the surrounding landscape for the noise's source. "What was that?"

Embyr sat up, rubbing her head. "Beats me."

"Uh... you might want to get down."

As the two turned toward Dark, a large, rectangular shape rocketed over their heads. "What in the heck was that?"

The Gallade stood, motioning them to drop to the ground. "Sandwasp. Stay there, I'll handle this."

"Hey, wait a second..."

But the Neverborn was gone, vanishing like smoke upon the wind.

The vampire mentally cursed himself for failing to obliterate the armory when he'd had the chance. Somehow, these humans had managed to obtain several Sandwasps, flying vehicles which could zoom over the desert with nary a problem, and with amazing speed to boot. Hearing the high, droning pitch of one of the vehicles, he spun just in time to notice the first one as it passed him by, one of the massive sunken propellers that allowed it the ability of flight narrowly missing the top of his head.

"Oh, so you want to play rough, huh?"

Smiling nastily at the Wasp, he beckoned it back with a crooked finger, and as if responding to his call, the pilot swung the machine around, sending it into a steep dive aimed straight at his face. A faint battle cry was heard as the pilot opened up with his vehicle's hard-mounted machine guns, sending tiny geysers of sand high into the air around the Gallade's feet.

All of it counted for nothing as the Neverborn leaped into the air, his clawed fingers nimbly making a queer sign in front of him.

"LAIMIS!"

Bright blue light shot from his fingertips, hissing with energy as it scythed through the air, cleaving the mini-fighter in half. Twin explosions rocked the sky as the pieces detonated, and liquid metal rained down upon the sand, sizzling madly as it rehardened once more. Grinning happily, Dark surveyed his handiwork. "Now, then, that's one..." He turned his head as another warbling vortex assaulted his ears.

"...And there's the next victim."

"Okay, that's it. He's not getting all the fun."

Desert gaped at her friend. "What are you talking about?"

Embyr frowned over the dunes where the battle was taking place. "I'm going to help." Drawing her new weapons, the Ninetales ran off across the sand. Still shocked, Desert looked after her. "Hey, wait..."

Shaking her head, the Flygon followed her across the hills.

Dark was laughing by that point, having decimated five of the flyers with nothing more than a few medium-power spells and his bare hands. Of course, the time of day played a critical part in his attacks, as the onset of the twilight hours provided him with an almost inexhaustible supply of energy. Snarling at the final trio of Wasps, he roared up at them, shaking a fist in defiance. "You want some of this? Come on, there's plenty for everyone!"

He turned as the pounding of feet heralded Desert and Embyr's arrival. "What in blazes are you doing here? I thought I told you to stay put!"

"And let you have all the fun?" Embyr scoffed. "Not a chance."

Unfortunately, further arguments were stymied by the attacks of all three flyers as they descended upon the trio, guns blazing. Dodging the geysers of sand, Embyr shot a fireball up at the nearest Wasp, catching it head-on and sending it hurtling to the ground in a tangled ball of flaming metal. Dark flung his scythe at the second one, the whirling blade slicing over the four-hundred-yard gap to bury itself in the Wasp's cockpit, effectively disabling it. The third, however, rocketed at Desert at a pace too fast to dodge, its pilot intent on ending her life with a hail of 50 mm.

The Flygon was frozen, eyes wide as death bored down on her with relentless fury. Her life flashed past her nose with astonishing speed, the elders' prophecies sounding in her ears, and she whispered a single phrase, head bowed.

"I'm sorry... that I failed you."

The Wasp screamed overhead, and bloody thucks greeted its arrival.

Desert opened her eyes. What had happened? She'd heard the flyer go past her... but why wasn't she dead? Her question was soon answered the moment she looked up... and saw Dark standing in front of her, arms flung wide. Blood as black as pitch dripped from his wheezing form as he chuckled, perhaps to himself, perhaps to her. "Now... I can't... let you die... so soon... can I?"

And with that, he fell, sprawling out on the sand with a muffled thump.

"Dark!" Kneeling, Desert shook the Gallade's limp body, frantically hoping against hope that he'd rise again. "Oh, come on, wake up!"

A groan came from inside the cloak. "What? Do I need to watch you every second?" The Flygon's eyes almost popped out of her head as the Neverborn stood, dusting his tattered garments off. "What... but you were shot!"

"And?" Dark frowned. "I've been shot before. Now, if you please, we need to hitch a ride out of this godforsaken place."

Spinning on his heel, he marched off, leaving two bewildered Fusions in his wake.

"Ah, here you are, my beauty."

Dark grinned as he retrieved his weapon from the downed Sandwasp, discreetly licking the blood off the edges as he put it away. "This vehicle should do very nicely."

"But it's been destroyed!" Embyr protested. "And why are you still alive, anyway?"

The Gallade ignored the question as he opened the cockpit, carelessly tossing the pilot's corpse aside as he settled into the single-seated vehicle. "Oh, yes. Very nicely, indeed. Now, if you two would kindly step back..."

The Fusions barely jumped back in time as the vampire plunged his tentacles into the dashboard, pumping it full of a dark, oozing substance. Almost immediately, the flyer began to shake, its sand-brown color slowly deepening to blackest night as metal, plastic, and titanium melted, reforming to slowly reveal a new creation that looked almost nothing like the original. True, it still had its propellers, but they were now mounted in a pair of wings that spiked from the top of an armored, diamond-shaped shell, the smooth sheen giving way to a mix of overlapping midnight scales and crimson slashes.

The tapered cockpit opened, and the Gallade waved at his companions. "Ladies and gentlemen, the Salagon is now leaving for parts unknown. All aboard!"

With shock written on their faces, the Fusions entered the elongated fighter through a quick-access door mounted on one side, buckled themselves into a pair of crash seats, and shrugged at one another. Perhaps it was best to just go with the flow here...

Clicking and snapping noises were heard as Dark fiddled with the controls, and the ship silently rose, pointed itself along their original path, and took off, leaving the city, and indeed the desert, far behind.