On his knees in the everlasting darkness, Derek stared hard at the empty ground beneath him. It was cold, so very cold, and he felt that his arms would soon become numb. Half his face hidden in shameful shadow, a pair of large, dark, piercing eyes circled him accusingly, the hard stare evil as the devil. "Always worrying every single day," a big booming voice's echo chanted. "It's still the same… nothing has changed… open your eyes!" the voice cried out again, its echo chanting like a memoir.

Derek continued to kneel, as if giving up entirely in everything he had thought himself to be. It is still the same… he thought helplessly. Isn't it? Something's not right… Derek thought crazily. Something – no, everything's not right! It's like I haven't grown at all…

The eyes continued to circle the confused Minor, the eternal darkness like noting at all, yet empty and spacious. What is there to prove to me that things aren't the way they seem they are? Derek thought as he brought a hand to his throat, trying to clam himself. The hand slid carefully down his chest, and came across something that didn't feel like skin. The Minor cocked his head up to find the wrapping bandages that were put around his chest because of the Eruption incident. The snaking bandages were black with ebony yet serving a good purpose.

I see, Derek realized, his eyes wide open as he ignored everything around him. His hand trembled slightly as they ran over the soft, prickly bandages. It's not the same as before, it's really not! Derek thought in an anticipating thought. Slowly, it felt like everything was landing back to the surface, everything piecing each other together magically in a frozen setting in time. Slowly, he began to remember, the things that kept him knowing that he was who he was, for real.

He remembered Eruption breaking his crashing fist into his ribcage and coughing out splotches of blood, the uneven surface behind him breaking into pieces. Derek remembered saving Dylan from the exploding lava with his shade shield, and how confident he was to help who helped him. Confident, not worried. Not worried one bit. He remembered scoffing at Zack in the orange halls of the Inner World, and laughing at his idiocy, not worrying what he might do next. He remembered walking with Jeremy in the hot, scorching desert, trying to wake him from that wild trance he had been put in with an overwhelming headache and nosebleed, calling out to the small child, hoping to bring him back, not worrying. The voices of those times echoed in his mind, the images repeating like a broken slideshow. He remembered fighting Hibiyomi, and how he had carefully solved how to release himself from the Darkness. He remembered everything he's been through, and all of it reminded him… that the voices he heard now were wrong.

Returning from the world of recollection, the ominous pair of eyes continued to circle him, that accusing stare never worn out. "You're a failure!" his own voice boomed. "You're a failure, and you'll always try to run away, hoping that academic smarts would help you through the problems and nothing else!"

"No," Derek muttered slightly, picking up his feet and balancing his stance. He could feel the normal energy return to his legs, the will to stand growing in his heart again. "You're wrong."

"Who are you to say that? You know deep inside that you're still the scared, tiny little kid that you are. Why do you try to deny everything that poses a threat to you?" the godly voice boomed once again, echoing off the dark filled space.

"Who am I to say that?" Derek repeated angrily. "I'm myself, if I can't describe myself, then who will?!" the Minor shouted angrily at the voice and the spinning pair of glaring eyes. "When you say that I'm scared and worry all day, you're wrong! You're wrong a million times over, got that? You can't tell me who I am, or who I've become, and you can't use how I was back then against me. So you're wrong, you're completely wrong when you tell me who I am!"

Derek growled angrily at the spacious darkness, feeling the coldness of it leave him somehow. The pair of eyes soon slowed and closed, and the booming voice was silenced. What's going on? Derek thought calmly. Why did everything change? The darkness around him quivered lightly like salt in hot water. Stripes of the outer world began to reveal themselves in the shivering shadows, and finally, they dispersed away, like dust to the air.

The feel of normal was felt once again, leaving Derek as confused as before. Derek felt the light winds of the night again, and the dark navy blue of the sky, not the pale, photographic orange. The life around him quivered as the light breezes blew, comforting Derek in the world he always knew, and not that crazy, psychotic orange world where nothing moved. The bushes swayed lightly and the canopies of trees rustled rigorously. Still confused, Derek looked around for his teammates. They were nowhere to be found.

They haven't returned yet, Derek thought. I'm the first one. Just where were we? Derek piqued. Suddenly, a noise emerged from behind him. Derek turned quickly and cautiously, the coldness of the night sweeping against him as his eyes turned their glare to the other direction. The sound was repetitive, like a monotonous knock that never ended. It was and could only be a clap that echoed through the foresting trees. Someone else is here, Derek realized as he gritted his teeth, readying himself.

The light applause seemed to run over him as another presence slid out of the dark, damp trees. It was a woman with her hands going in the sarcastic applause. She had the longest, black hair with the blankest beady eyes that stared off into space. A crooked smile was portrayed on her face, a smirking grin. Her eyes were narrowed coolly, as if to say she was better than everything she knew. Her pose sassy and showy, she stopped the applause and began to speak. "Well, well, looks like someone's gotten out," she spoke wearily yet full of energy.

"Who are you?" Derek said blankly, ignoring her seductive pose.

"I've got to give you credit, though, you got out faster than anyone else," the woman answered. She seemed to refuse to answer Derek's question. "But this is the end of the road for you," she said blankly and dully, changing her tone completely. As her words spilled out into Derek's ears, the sound of glass cracking began to surround the Minor mysteriously.

What's going on? Derek thought as he stared from left to right, yet finding nothing unusual Staring back at the woman in front of him, she glared back as well, her eyes showing and glowing with a bit of glow to them. Looking up, Derek found the old, gibbous moon again, finally returned to the real world. What's going on? He thought as the eerie, powder blue clouds wavered slowly past the beaming moon.

PoVS

The cool night seemed still, the dark moon gleaming with a silent battle cry that was like a constant beat to Lance's ears. He grinned lightly and watched the Senchi rattle before him. Rick continued to stand still and protectively, his arms in front of him, ready to do anything. Those snakes, what's with them? Lance thought grudgingly as he felt his lungs begin to fail slowly.

Before, when they were chasing Rick through the small forest left, they were so fast and so straightforward, but when they went after me, they just scramble to me like a million ropes, Lance thought as he imaged the scenes in his mind, Rick flipping expertly to dodge the serpents, the millions of snakes crashing into the metal net, hissing wildly and angrily. Also, with time running out and about thirty minutes or so until morning, neither Marissa nor me have enough time to live. With Rick being the only one who can use his Half Spirit to the fullest right now, I'd better not endanger him, either.

Lance continued to think as he watched the Senchi slither through the air, threatening the two Minors who stood still, waiting for the big blow. They still have that A1 poison that guy was talking about, and I don't really have much of a source for metal to defend us with, but even if the snakes still have that poison, shouldn't they run out? No, I can't conclude that. What if Otoshiana has an infinite source of it where he can always remake or restock it? It'd be too hard to try something with that piece of information. So far, I haven't made any real moves against him except that dumb trap, and even if I try to make it work another time, I wouldn't be able to create that kind of thing in the first place with the unavailability of metal.

Rick can repel and attract the metal snakes, but that must take a lot of energy to do that, and we can't waste the only healthy Minor we have left. We'll have to try something else. I'll need a way to finish this guy off quickly without wasting too much energy, but with the limits I have on, I'm not sure how to go about something like that.

Lance continued to think hard, biting his bottom lip for helpless support. Moments later in the cool, still night, an idea flashed in his mind. I've got it! Lance thought enthusiastically. "Rick, listen," the Metal Minor called to his friend. Rick turned and obeyed, listening carefully, nodding now and then as Lance whispered his plan.

From the other side of the barren field, the Senchi awaited their command as Otoshiana stared blankly at the two teenagers with his red, demonic eyes. "That whispering…" Otoshiana muttered robotically. "So… familiar…" his voice growled as he was again, pulled back into his memories.

Years after the first sighting of the cryptex, young Otoshiana had become very interested in toys like that. Tricky toys that sparked imagination and cleverness. He liked testing his skills at solving problems, getting his hands on every little trick he could get, even the simplest puzzle. He even began to make his own, and not one day passed by where he had forgotten about the first cryptex his father had given him.

"I got it!" young Otoshiana cried out as he held the cryptex up in the light. He brought it close to his face and grinned at it, wondering who might be the first to solve it. "I've finally made my own cryptex," he said with a sense of accomplishment. He felt proud of himself, and he knew that anyone who heard about his success would be too.

Thunder roared outside angrily, as if holding a grudge against someone it didn't know. The clouds rolled and rain began to pour lightly in a slight drizzle. Ignoring all the bad weather, Otoshiana continued to cry out happily, but since he had stayed up all night again doing a puzzle, he fell asleep, his eyes closed dully on the desk suddenly.

Hours later, Otoshiana woke up, finding himself in a pool of his own drool. He moaned wearily as he rubbed his eyes awake, finding the cryptex on the desk. As he came to, his senses tingled, the coolness beginning to affect him weakly of the dusty room. "Must've fallen asleep," he said, clearing his own, cloudy mind that had just woken. He took the cryptex in his hands lightly, feeling to four metal rings and the silver alloy metal. The desk light was the only light in the room, and spilled a faint light on the wooden desk. It was bare, and the rest of the room was not lit at all. The electric humming of it was annoying to hear to the ears, and the weary eyes blurred everything in sight.

Otoshiana cried out as he realized what he was about to do before he fell asleep. "I better go get this to father," he muttered to himself as he climbed weakly off the chair, feeling the energy rejuvenate him and his limbs. He stretched for a while, holding the silver cryptex in one hand, feeling the cool air swim into his clothes and awaken him even further. He gave a long, silent yawn and began pacing through the wood-paved floor. The slight thumping of his footsteps was almost silent, and easily ignored.

Going out the door, he heard a loud crash. Something like glass breaking. The sudden shattering filled his ears, and made the panic rise in Otoshiana's emotions. The dark hallway was dusty and dusk, the ends of it almost enveloped in eerie ebony. Otoshiana's first instinct was to rush to the shattering, and without taking one more thought, he did.

Carrying the cryptex in one hand, he rushed through the wood halls, his footsteps heavy and stomping against the weak material. He almost tripped over his feet in panic as he rushed to turn the corner, almost crashing into the opposite wall. What was that noise? He thought to himself. And this feeling… he spoke to himself as he rushed past the halls, the blurry darkness still not clearing just yet. What's this feeling I have? Why does it make me so panicky? Something's not right. Something's definitely not right.

Rushing past the next corner, he soon found himself in the room where the shattering had come from. The first room where you walk in from outside. He stared blankly as he stood at the doorway, his mouth dropped open in an empty space of horror. The door was wide open, letting in the rushing rain and the blasting light of the thunder. The storm's eerie cold rushed in like a dominating blanket of evil. Right before Otoshiana's very own eyes, his own father fell to the floor as two, tough looking men try to grab him by the arms.

His father seemed to be in pain, and honestly, scared of the two men. He moaned and groaned in horror as they gripped his arms tightly, so tightly it seemed like it hurt. He began scrambling in their hold, not realizing that his son was watching him that very moment. "F-Father?" Otoshiana said quietly and innocently. The child found his eyes crinkled in sadness and wonder.

At the sound of his son's voice, the father calmed down, staring straight ahead to find young Otoshiana and his curious, always piqued eyes. "What's going on…father?" Otoshiana asked, still confused about what was going on.

Hearing his voice again, the father bowed his head, looking at the floor in shame. At both his sides, the men grunted in a rigorous way and held his two arms in a restraining way tightly. "Sorry kid," one of them muttered deeply. His voice was scary, and after his words, there seemed to be a huge flash of lightning entering the room.

Glass was spread out all over the room and furniture was misplaced, toppled over and upside down. The whole room was a mess. "It was your dad's third strike," the other one muttered.

"Third…strike?" young Otoshiana asked, still somewhat confused. At his words, the two men began to drag the weakened old man away, his feet dragging on the floor wearily as they entered the vigorous storm, leaving the door open behind them as they left.

Still at the doorway with somewhat baffled eyes, Otoshiana wondered. "Father…what's going on?" he muttered to himself slightly. The coldness seemed to continue to pour in, the numbing, icy mist filling the room with its damp wetness.

Days later, Otoshiana found himself bound by a fence with his father on the other side after hearing all about what happened. His mother had been equally shocked at what was going on, and now, they were ready to say goodbye. The storm hadn't seemed to stop in the time between when they took him away, and…now.

Otoshiana found himself pounding hard on the metal fence, feeling imprisoned even though he was the one outside of the gate. Crowds and crowds of people piled themselves in front of the gate, their awaiting eyes watching carefully. Lightning flashed above evilly like an evil cry as the rain continued to come down. Groups of people seemed to come together with gray and green umbrellas for the sad occasion, even if they didn't know the person trapped inside the large, fenced area.

After the trapping fences, far away from Otoshiana was his father, looking weak and sad in the pouring rain. He was bound at his wrists and head by a wooden slab attached to a large, towering guillotine. It was so tall that it was like a huge monument of sadness. The blade was carefully placed at the top, glimmering in the nonexistent light of the storm. Thunder continued to roar as Otoshiana desperately banged on the fencing.

It hurt his hand so much, and he knew that his skin would soon rip and blister, but he didn't care. Tears came down his face along with the wet raindrops as he tried hard to keep his eyes open. Otoshiana cried out in despair as his wet hair dragged at his shoulders. The rattling of the fence never seemed to stop, and he seemed as if he was the only sad one there. Surrounded by tons of people he, at the moment, ignored, Otoshiana continued shaking the fence, the restraint of the rattling never ending. His mother hadn't wanted to come. She was to devastated by the news. But like any good son would do who cared about his father as much as he had cared for him, Otoshiana came alone.

Holding the four letter cryptex in his trembling hand, Otoshiana continued to bang on the metal fencing. It was so imprisoning, even if he was outside. "Father!" Otoshiana desperately cried out. "Father, please! Father!"

"How sad," whispering was heard in the drowning rain. The splattering drops of the storm seemed to enhance every other sound made. "A young child like that, and his father is a murderer," the whispering voice came again.

"Yeah, it's sad," another whispering voice replied. Otoshiana wanted to turn back to yell at them, to yell at them for being so disrespectful, but he couldn't. He couldn't take his eyes off of what was about to happen.

"I heard he was given three chances before he was given the death sentence. He tried really hard to keep the murders a secret from his family," a different whisper came from another direction now. Otoshiana listened carefully, his tears sobbing like rivers with the rain, his hair dark and soggy, sopping at the back of his neck and the sides of his head. He had stopped trembling all over, and now he just wanted to cry. He had come to the area without many clothes, just a t-shirt and shorts. He was so cloud-minded and so much in a hurry he forgot the essentials. But right now, the essentials didn't seem the least bit important.

"Yeah," another whispering voice came. "But why do you think he let himself get caught like that?"

"I don't know. Maybe he just didn't care anymore," the whispers answered.

Didn't care anymore? Otoshiana thought as he clutched the fencing with his weak, bare hands. The pouring rain shuffled in his ears, drowning nothing out but his thoughts. I see… he didn't care anymore. Is it… is it because of me? Otoshiana accused himself. Was I not good enough for father? Was I not a good enough son to make him want to stay? To make him not want to get caught? Father was a smart man. He would've thought of something to escape. It's me. I didn't make him proud enough to stay, so he didn't care if he got caught. It's my fault. If only I had a second chance…

As Otoshiana finished his thoughts, gasps of people around him emerged as the glimmering blade of the guillotine came down, screeching like a devil's cry, until there was no screech left to be heard, ending it with a loud boom and a crash. Otoshiana couldn't bear to look. He kept his eyes on the ground. The wet, soaked ground with tears and rain. The smell of dampness never left him. He let his grip leave the cryptex as it fell to the floor, the rain soaking it with its demonic drops of angelic sadness. The metal cylinder clattered to the floor, spelling out its message to the sky, as if one full of hope, something Otoshiana left behind. The four lettered message spelled out in the pouring rain, "best" as the rain soaked the letters, washing the message away.

What can I do to make father proud… Otoshiana thought. What can I do to make him proud now that he's dead? What would a father want from a useless child like me? Succeed in life? Do well in school? Follow his footsteps? Yeah, that makes sense, Otoshiana realized. Follow his footsteps… it makes sense. Then that's what I'll do, Otoshiana thought, concluding his sadness away into confidence. I'll follow your footsteps…!