Disclaimer: I had no idea! My god! It's something that I had never conceived of before—I don't own Naruto or World of Warcraft!

Hold me.

Here's the next installment of The Legend of Uzumaki Naruto!

It was a clearing. In that clearing was people. Many, many people, of all ages and both sexes (though there appeared more women than men, and more children than adults), all piled together in one great, big heap.

And none of them were alive, either.

Demi did not quite see what was before her for a moment. It was hard to see because the fog was particularly thick here, and there was a moistness in the air that clung to her lips and eyes and made her blink furiously for a few moments, before she could look again. In that time she heard only a buzzing, and smelled what she would soon see.

Death.

The pile of corpses was so large that it might have been a small hill. There was so much blood—it covered the ground in a sticky marsh all around the human hill, and the smell was so intense that it was sickening. Body parts too littered the ground, like fungi in a dense swamp, and some of them had been stuck in the ground in rings like the fairy circles that Demi saw all the time in her wanderings of Elwynn Forest with Kira. The air was filled with flies buzzing madly around the corpses, creating the humming sound that they had heard before seeing the pile; and among the hundreds of men, women and children in the pile were thousands upon thousands of maggots blissfully fulfilling their duty in nature, eating out the eyes and chest cavities and faces of these people, whose faces were twisted in awful horror. Not a one had died peacefully. Even the youngest toddlers had died in absolute agony, and they looked no different from the terrified faces of their mothers and fathers. They all seemed to scream, and Demi thought she could hear them too; screaming madly as they tried to escape whatever fate had befallen them.

That's what we call community spirit, isn't it?

Demi began to shake. She wandered towards the hill, staring at all the death and saying something under her breath that she couldn't hear. All she could hear was screaming.

There was a child in front of her, a little girl. The little girl was naked and had probably suffered a fate far worse than her father or mother had. Her neck was broken and she could still see the pretty, purple irises staring up at her through the white clouds in her eyes.

'Kira?' Demi whispered. 'Kira? Wake up, I'm here.' She didn't look at all like Kira, really. But she had eyes like Kira, so pretty and purple, though now they were far from pretty. It was the eyes she fixed upon, the eyes that drew her in. They were Kira's eyes and it didn't matter if it was an entirely different girl and Kira was far away, safe and sound, tucked away in her castle.

'Kira?'

The little girl screamed at her something unintelligible. She kneeled beside the little girl and began to stroke her bruised face. She was still muttering to herself, not quite believing what was happening. She saw the pile of dead and yet she didn't. This girl was Kira and yet wasn't. She didn't understand.

'Kira?'

Fordragon was standing by the trees, staring at his mistress with wide eyes. He started forwards.

'Demi,' he began.

She didn't answer.

'What are you doing?'

I'm in the process, you stupid dog, of making a major change in my life. So please leave me alone.

'Kira?' Demi said, softly, and continued to stroke the girl's face.

It kept screaming at her, but she couldn't hear what it was saying. She asked it to speak louder but it didn't.

'That isn't Lady Kira,' said Fordragon. 'Demi, that isn't your daughter.'

'Yes it is,' Demi finally said, looking up at him. 'See? Wake up, Kira.'

'That isn't Kira, Demi,' Fordragon said, with more force. 'Let us go, now. We must locate who committed this atrocity. We must—'

'I didn't want to leave you,' said Demi, 'but I had to. I had to help. My family never did, so I had to. I did it because it became my duty—surely you would understand that? They never would. But I hope that you don't have to do it. I hope that you don't…'

Fordragon walked towards her, and laid a hand on her shoulder. 'Demi, that is not her. We must go. This place is…'

Beautiful. It's like a garden of love.

'Why should I leave my daughter again?'

'That is not her. '

Demi looked up at him. 'It is.'

'Stop smiling, Demi.'

She looked up at him. 'I'm not.'

There was movement in the trees. Fordragon stood, and drew his sword. From the woods right before him, a group of men emerged. They were dressed in scarlet armor and carried a scarlet banner, and were staring stoically forwards, their faces drenched in scarlet blood.

Fordragon growled. 'What are you doing here?'

'This is our land, fool,' one of them said. 'Thou must leave.'

'You did this. What kind of monsters are you?"

'They were infected,' another said. He was thin as a bone, but stood proudly up and had stern, raptor-like eyes that in a few years would be clouded by madness, just as his body would become hunched and gnarled. 'They are to be burned today, so that their souls might reach heaven unencumbered by the rot of the undead Plague. We relieved them of a curse.'

Fordragon's eyes narrowed and he snarled. 'They were innocent.'

Another of the Crusaders looked straight at him; his eyes were crystal blue and there was a soft lilt in his voice, and his face was so common that he seemed to appear from nowhere. 'According to whom?'

'Fire?' Demi was staring at the flames emblazoned on their tabards, showing that they were of the Scarlet Crusade. 'I see fire. Blood. Death. For all of us.'

That is what you'll see for a long time.

'Demi, get up. We are leaving,' said Fordragon.

We'll do no such thing.

Demi looked down. 'But I can't leave her again.'

'That is not Lady Kira!'

It is, dog. It always will be. How do you think she cares so much?

'What?' Fordragon was staring at Demi. 'What did you say?

They are all her. They always have been. She does all of this for her. But she was stupid and weak, and didn't notice it at all. Didn't notice that it was stupid to put all of the worst emotions she could feel in the back of her mind, and let them congeal and rot and grow until they were so diseased that her mind could no longer contain it. She is a stupid little child, isn't she? It won't matter any longer, however. That pile of rotten feelings is thinking that it is time for somebody else to take over. We outnumber her, in any case.

'Demi? What's wrong with you?'

The Crusaders were staring too. Demi was standing.

But she wasn't Demi any more. She stood up straight and tall and thrust her chest out impressively. Her hair whipped back, like liquid gold, and slid down across her back and across her face, across her very red lips and her seductive smile, and just barely covering her eyes, which were only visible now to Fordragon, who was right in front of her. He could not move, as he stared at her.

"Demi?" he whispered again.

"You only said half the letters," she said. "I am Demetria. Lady Demetria, if you please—who is this Demi of which you speak?"

Fordragon took a step back. Her eyes. There was something wrong with her eyes.

They were like landfills of emotion—poisoned, rotten emotion.

"You all seem like nice dogs—want to become my pets?" she said, with that infernal smile.

Kira and Sakura ran through the long, straight corridors of the Scarlet Bastion. Kira was leading Sakura, though pink-haired shinobi did not look well. Her eyes were heavily lidded and she stumbled every so often. The effects of her torture were catching up to her, she knew, and she didn't know how much longer she would be able to keep running.

"Where are we going?"

"To get Kylia and Tsuwabuki," said Kira, breathless from running. "And find a place to fight her."

Sakura gasped as well. Strength was draining from her like blood from a vicious wound. She felt like she might collapse, and her legs were beginning to cramp from overuse after so long being suspended in mid-air. But she continued to run as fast as her legs could carry her, straining them to keep up with Kira, probably the only reason she was still running. She felt at first humiliated, but then a sense of calmness entered her. She had apologized, had admitted that she had been wrong and Kira had been right. She had no reason to fight with Kira any more, and Kira was doing what she could to help Sakura.

Sakura needed her.

She and Kira reached the door where Kylia and Tsuwabuki were. Kira looked at Sakura for aid this time.

"Can you break it open?" she asked.

Sakura took a few heaving breaths, but managed a nod. She made a fist, and reached back, hammering the door with some of her remaining strength. It worked—the door imploded inwards; Kylia yelped from within, and Tsuwabuki let out a bark very different from a dog's. She immediately flew at the door, past Sakura and Kira—whom she brushed up against as she went—and fled down the hallway. Kira felt a spike of worry for the fox—if she encountered Demetria, what would she do? But she knew she couldn't do much to help, other than wish the fox luck in finding Naruto, as she was doubtlessly looking for him.

"Where now?" Sakura muttered, looking at Kira.

The girl frantically gazed around. "A room," she said. "We have to find a room, and then get you fixed up before she comes."

"How do you even know she is coming?" Sakura asked. She glanced behind her, however, just in case Demetria's leering face poked around the corner.

"I don't know, but I don't care. I guess talking with her a lot has given me some semblance of ability in predicting what she's doing to do. I just don't know where she's coming from. We have to find a place, too, that's good enough to fight her in."

"A large room," said Kylia, softly.

"She's right," Sakura said. "We're at a disadvantage in a hallway. There're three of us and one of her."

"Okay," said Kira. She began to run again, moving down the hallway away from the throne room. She still had no idea where she was going, but there had to be a big room somewhere here where they could fight her! Kira was done with it all. She had to fight now, she had to show that stupid—bitch—that she wasn't a stupid little girl who couldn't do anything. She wanted to show Sakura the same. Before she could apologize, she had to show Sakura that she was more than a pampered princess.

And she had to show herself, too. That she could do just as much without Naruto at her side.

Kira spotted a pair of doors, and grinned. She thrust them open and was met with success. A wide, rectangular room—probably once a dining hall and now stocked so full of weapons and armor that it could have armed every soldier in Stormwind—but more than enough room to fight with the Scarlet Oracle, without being at a disadvantage. She looked at Sakura, who was glancing around the room, her eyes bleary.

"Are you okay? Did any of that blood touch you?"

"No," Sakura muttered, rubbing her eyes. "To the second question at least. I don't think so. But I need some stamina. You have anything that could provide that?"

Kira thought a moment, hoping desperately that she did. She knew she needed Sakura in this fight. She knew she wasn't strong enough to defeat Demetria by herself. She scoured every inch of her knowledge of the healing arts. What could provide Sakura with enough stamina?

"You can have some of mine," Kira suddenly whispered. "Come here! We don't have much time!"

You have one last chance.

"For what?" Demetria said aloud, as she strolled along the hallway. She did not need to rush—they weren't going anywhere. They would fight. The princess had been eager to prove herself and the shinobi girl always fought her. She could take her time, and let the fight become more interesting. How would they try to counter her? It gave her a feeling like Winter Veil morning to think about. What surprise would she be given by these pretty, little nymphs?

To turn back!

"Why would I turn back?" She answered the voice in her head aloud. "When I will have so much fun if I keep going?"

You think that…why?

"I know it. I am the Scarlet Oracle, after all."

But you cannot predict anything! How can you have fun, too, when your time will soon be up?

"Up?" Demetria stopped at that. "You think so?"

I know it.

"Do you?" she cackled. "You don't even exist!"

To you, I do.

Demetria laughed again, and continued to walk. She walked until she came to a pair of double-doors. She could feel them. Behind the door they were waiting for her to arrive, waiting for her to fight. Each of them had something to prove.

Could they prove it to her?

His insides twisted and flailed as if the demon, chained deep within it, was trying to break free. Naruto could feel its hatred and its fury, boiling up in him like a volcano ready to explode. He stared at the golden door, and felt like he wanted to blow it apart and charge into the room and face whatever it is that was making him feel so awful, but he too felt like staying and helping Sai, as well as going after Sakura and Kira, who were probably in just as great a danger as he was.

He was torn. Did he help his teammate—whom he didn't particularly like—or did he satiate his curiosity and the demon within him, or did he help his two much closer friends, who might not even need his help? He glanced at each problem in turn, gritting his teeth harder and growing ever more frustrated. Sai was still staring at the door, his head cocked slightly to the side. He was quite oblivious to the killing intent, but he had heard what sounded like a voice earlier, and now a faint buzzing was coming from behind the door. He wondered what could be behind it. He then swung his gaze around.

Fordragon was staring at it too, and though his face was covered, he seemed to be frowning, or at least perturbed by the horrible killing intent emanating from behind the door. This was only due to him shuffling a little, which was quite out of place for his normally solid stature.

So His Holiness, he thought, has revealed himself? That is disturbing. Little could force him to transform, short of a mortal wound. He remembered the two girls who had run out earlier. Had it been one of them? Impossible. His mistress was there—though, he conceded, that accounted for nothing. She would probably care little if someone had slain the Grand Crusader, in fact he knew she would probably enjoy it. Her tastes favored that, and she would probably be curious to see what would happen.

But his attention too, soon fell away from what was behind the door, to what was in front of it. The blonde boy was distracted. He would not miss the chance to remove the boy from the fight.

He charged with powerful, echoing steps, making Naruto glance towards him, and reflexively backpedal. But he couldn't do it as quickly as Fordragon attacked, and the giant was soon looming over him, slamming one fist down towards Naruto's skull. Naruto twisted to the side, avoiding it, but was caught in the side by another. It stole his breath and sent a wave of fire through his stomach and intestines, making his knees buckle. He used Kongou—just barely—to absorb another blow aimed at his head. The strike was strong enough to knock him slightly off balance, but deflected enough of the force that Naruto wasn't unconscious. He jumped back, but Fordragon continued his assault, until Sai arrived.

Fordragon was struck in the side by a kunai, driven in between the cracks in his armor, and hissing from the explosive note attached to its handle. Naruto saw it and scampered back, while Fordragon pulled it immediately out and tossed it into the air, having seen Naruto's reaction.

It exploded above them in a spectacular flash, shaking the room and illuminating everything briefly with orange. The light even pierced the confines of the giant's helmet, where Naruto saw two eyes—like those of a raptor—whose gaze made Naruto feel small and weak like a rabbit without any shelter. But this lasted for only as long as Naruto could see his eyes. When they were gone, Naruto felt his strength and ego return, even greater than before, and he grit his teeth.

Sai attacked again.

Fordragon reacted. He smashed one of Sai's creations—a bear—out of the way and ran at the shinobi. Naruto ran for his sword. Fordragon punched at Sai, but hit nothing as Sai's lithe form slipped out of the way. He ducked and weaved around the giant, but did not attack. Fordragon recognized this, stepped back, and then stomped the ground with his boot.

It was as if an earthquake had started, as if Fordragon had stomped directly on the fault lines of one of the world's tectonic plates. The entire room shook, throwing Sai off-balance and removing Fordragon's sword from where it had become stuck in the wall, when he had thrown it earlier. The giant ran and caught the sword as it fell, turned, and threw it at Sai. The boy danced back, and it struck the floor, lodging itself in the ruined marble.

Naruto had retrieved his sword, too. He now stood nearer to the doorway that Sakura and Kira had entered, and once again, he found his feet locked by indecision.

He had seen that last exchange. Sai was doing well, and he was obviously faster than Fordragon. But he didn't know if Sakura and Kira needed his help at all. They were both perfectly capable individuals. But what about the situation behind the golden doors? The killing intent hadn't faded.

What the hell did he do?

Sai looked at his opponent, and finally smiled. It was so—interesting! How his brother would have loved to draw this scene. But he shook himself at that. What good was it thinking about his brother? He was dead.

That was the past.

Fordragon pulled his sword from the floor and swung it deftly around, before launching himself at Sai. Sai stayed far away from the giant, knowing that he was far more dangerous with his blade. He looked over at Naruto.

But the boy was not there.

Ah, he thought. I figured as much. She had been wrong, after all, hadn't she? What could this boy have done?

Sai tossed a smoke bomb onto the ground, making the room fill with purple smoke and smell strongly of rotten eggs. Fordragon frowned, and stopped.

"What good," he said aloud, "is it to deprive two of my senses, when I have two more, just as effective?"

He swung his blade around in a perfect arc before him. It was sudden and swift and cut the smoke like a knife through linen, and drew a painfully deep cut across Sai's arm. He cried out, and the giant Crusader rushed deeper into the smoke, barreling into the boy and thrusting him from the cloud, into fresh air. Fordragon followed with great strides, and kicked the boy in the stomach, and then aimed a kick at his head.

Instead he kicked a rigid arm, which pushed his foot away, and then smashed into his bare stomach. He felt it much harder than any previous blow, and gasped—the first sound of weakness he had uttered—stumbling back. His raptor eyes stared into Naruto's frozen blue ones.

"Don't touch him," he snapped.

Don't touch him, another boy snapped, a long time ago when Sai had been a different person. Or I'll kill you.

Sai looked up, and though he saw Naruto, he also saw somebody else. From the back, they looked kind of the same—both had broad shoulders and light hair and a voice that held some semblance of power and authority, despite the age difference—and skill difference—between the two warriors. Naruto even shook a little like him, from rage or exertion. It was such an amazing likeness that Sai forgot himself for a moment. He let his jaw drop a little, and his face morph into the first true emotion he had ever displayed in Naruto's presence (even though he could not see it). It was as if the past had come back, a past where Sai had been an entirely different person.

And he'd had a brother, too.

The blonde boy didn't say anything to Sai, but he did glance back, very briefly, to show Sai his eyes. They seemed to say: So you were a liar?

"You are a very strange shinobi," Fordragon said, staring at Naruto. "Instead of battling from the shadows like him, you face me directly. Interesting."

Naruto said nothing to that. His body tensed, and he looked ready to attack.

"Wait."

Naruto turned again, and looked at Sai. The boy was smiling again. But there was something less fake about the smile. It seemed more forced, as if true emotion was trying to push its way in, and was largely succeeding. But what he did not display on his face he displayed within his eyes, which bore a gleam now. Naruto was a little shocked by their appearance. He wanted to ask why the change, but Sai had already walked up beside him.

"Perhaps you should leave this to me."

"I thought you needed my help."

"So did I," said Sai. "A shinobi is always better in a team, as that decreases the chance of dying and thus of the mission failing. But when you protected me, I felt the strange need to compete with you. I believe they call it 'bonding'."

Naruto stared at him. He seemed to take that for confusion.

"Or," Sai said, "does that involve the pe—"

"Let's not go there," Naruto said, flushing slightly.

"Go after Sakura-san and Kira-sama. They will need your aid, will they not?"

"I don't know," Naruto said. "I don't think so anymore. They're fine on their own." He looked past the giant Crusader, who was standing patiently, waiting politely for them to finish their plan. He seemed in no hurry to end the battle. But then again, the woman had told him to take them alive. For what, Naruto had no idea. "But I think I'm going to see what's going on in that room. I don't think it's anything good."

"Very well," said Sai. "I will handle him and join you. It won't be hard."

"You think so?"

"Yes." Sai was smiling in an ever more peculiar way. It almost seemed as if he had a plan, and was displaying it on his face.

"Fine." Naruto flashed him a grin. "You're getting better, I think."

"At what?"

"Being real." Naruto then took off towards the golden doors, moving past Fordragon without trouble. The giant Crusader didn't even turn his head to acknowledge Naruto's presence, which was soon gone.

Not a second after he left, the door on the far side of the room burst open and Tsuwabuki came into the room, her teeth bared. She seemed a little put out that Naruto was nowhere to be seen, and then looked to Sai, who smiled. "I'm fine," he said, and gestured to the door. The fox stared at him a while longer, then nodded, and loped towards the golden doors, scampering through the crack that Naruto had left open, and where the sounds of battle now echoed through.

Sai then took out his sketchbook very carefully, the second one he had gotten since his brother's death and since his first sketchbook, and opened it, smiling. He couldn't quite understand how, but she had been right, hadn't she?

Regardless of what you do or say, that boy will change you. Be warned. I don't expect to see that smile when you return here, brat.

She is very old, he thought, so it makes sense. I'll have to ask her about it more when I return.

"Please be warned, Sir Fordragon, is it?" At his nod, Sai gave a small bow, and drew out his inked brush. "I believe that this jutsu I am going to use is going to be very painful, but I have worked my hardest on it since I have arrived here. Let me know how it is, okay?"

"I'll be sure to," the giant responded. "Perhaps I can teach you about art as well, shinobi."

"Don't count on it," the boy said. "I learned from the best."

Demetria thrust the door open. Inside she found the extra items that had been able to fit inside the proper armory, and three girls, all prepared for battle. As soon as she saw them, they attacked.

Kylia, who was standing far in the front, rushed at her. The hesitation and fear that she had displayed in Demetria's presence was gone and she seemed now totally determined to fight and kill the woman. She carried two daggers—obviously stolen from one of the many racks that carried them—one of which she threw with remarkable speed and accuracy at the Scarlet Oracle, while she held the other with the blade forwards but held low, aiming for Demetria's guts.

Neither would reach their mark.

Demetria made a seal, and an inky black substance rose from beneath her feet—her very shadow—covering her completely. The dagger slammed into her forehead, but flew straight through, hitting the wall behind her. Then, like a cloud of smoke blown by the wind, Demetria moved towards Kylia to meet her hand to hand, cackling viciously.

But then came the second attack, from Sakura, who had been standing just behind Kylia when the fight had started. Her fist did not strike Demetria, but nor had she aimed to. She slammed it into the floor, sending a ripple through the room that sent many boxes stacked up tumbling to the ground, spilling their dangerous contents onto the floor. She had not put in enough chakra to completely shatter the floor—she only needed to throw Demetria off-balance enough for one of the following attacks to hit her. Kylia rammed her second blade into Demetria's stomach, but once again it hit nothing but smoky shadow. But the next attack didn't miss, issued from Kira, who stood in the very back of the room, the only long-range fighter of the group. She made a complicated hand sign and thrust her hands out, so that her thumbs and forefingers made a teardrop shape.

'Shining Arrow'

The attack was not so much an arrow as a stream of light that passed so quickly from Kira's hands to Demetria's arm—her true arm—and then burst in a flash of light which made Demetria scream and laugh at the same time. The black shadow recoiled from it, and Demetria's jutsu dissipated.

But Demetria did not miss a step. She whipped around and slammed her palm into Kylia's chest, injecting her with a pulse of chakra that would have killed her. But she did not die, because it hadn't hit her at all. A box of swords struck the ground in her place, and she now stood next to Sakura, slightly disoriented by the suddenness of the replacement. Sakura did not relax, because Demetria had already turned, but was not focusing on them any more.

'Shadow Name: Dragon'

Her shadow spread out long and thin beneath her, stretching across the length of the room in a heartbeat and rising from it was the head of a monstrous dragon. It was surrounded by an emerald light, but was black as jet and had teeth steel-colored teeth and no eyes. Kira had no time to put up a shield, so she leapt to the side, and the dragon smashed through the wall she had been standing against. It quickly whipped its head to the side, completely silent, and shot in her direction again, gnashing its teeth and slashing at her with its claws.

Demetria stood and turned to Sakura and Kylia, both of whom where moving. Sakura ran towards Kira, while Kylia ran at Demetria.

Demetria briefly touched her own forehead, and closed her eyes. She looked for a moment as if she was in rapture, as if filled with divine power.

Then she opened her eyes, and she laughed—a brutal cry—even as Kylia swung her dagger at the woman. But Demetria grabbed Kylia's wrist, punched her in the face, and then threw her across the room, all with incredible speed. But Demetria's attention did not linger, and she looked across the room.

The dragon tore through dozens of wooden boxes, hurtling shards and weapons in every direction. They rained down on Kira, who made her way desperately through the maze of boxes and weapons racks. Several swords fell in close proximity, and Kira, amidst the crashing of the boxes almost didn't notice them. One of them cut her down the arm, and she tripped over another lying on its side, slicing one of her shins and making her fall. She bit back a scream.

But the black dragon found her.

It slammed a tower of boxes aside, and approached her, the majority of its body still submerged in shadow. It did not roar and it did not growl, it just went towards her, its mouth open wide.

Kira made a hand sign, and gathered her chakra into a ball in the middle of her stomach. She could not think about the dragon that was seconds away from killing her. She couldn't even move. Her master had told her that this spell required the utmost discipline, because it could be the one to save your life.

'Mass Dispel'

She touched her hands to the ground on either side of her, making light erupt from the ground in a circle around her, swirling up in a tornado above her, and then exploded in all directions. It struck the dragon, which turned to black smoke as the light poured outwards through the room. Kira stood a moment, quivering in shock, when Sakura reached her and grabbed her arm.

"Hold still," she hissed, healing Kira's freshly bleeding wound and then spinning back around to face Demetria, who was looking amused once again. Kylia had gotten to her feet but was bleeding from the nose and mouth, and her legs were shaking, though it was unclear if it was from exertion or fear. She picked up her dagger, very slowly, as if a sudden movement would bring Demetria's attention to her once more. Neither Sakura nor Kira had seen the exchange between the two.

Demetria smiled at them, and attacked again. She howled like a maddened dog and clapped her hands together as she did—it was almost comical, but coming from a woman of such beauty and with such cruelty in her eyes, it was terrifying.

'Shadow Words: Pain Ice Fire Light Dark Fear!' She chanted the words aloud, saying each with force tantamount to an ancient god creating the world. Then all at once, the room and everything in it seemed to disappear.

It was completely black, as if light didn't exist. But then, at the same moment, it was bright, brighter than anything on earth, as if they were standing on the surface of the sun. It became just as hot, but at the same time, it became so cold that they couldn't move. Things floated in the darkness, immaterial and hazy, but they were so horrifying that Kira, Kylia and Sakura began to scream regardless. It was a strange, unnatural fear that they couldn't stamp out and that drove them in all directions, drove them to struggle against the awful pain that boiled through their veins, both inside and out, and the heat and the cold, and the brilliant light and consuming darkness.

Demetria's laugh mixed in with their screams.

Pain assailed Kira so hard that she fell to her knees. The other effects seemed unimportant compared to the fiery pain that flowed through her veins and darkened her skin with bruises. She was screaming herself hoarse, and trying to move, trying to put her hands together to find a suitable conjunction of words to stop this, but she couldn't even move and she couldn't think past the pain, and everything was so loud in her ears that she couldn't—

Sakura came to realize that something was wrong first. The fear that was welling up in her was not natural and something inside of her—a great, furious voice a lot like her own, shouting at her to calm the fuck down and stand still. She had no reason to fear whatever those things were that floated around her, and some of them were even rather goofy looking.

She stopped, standing in the middle of complete shadow, which was at the same time complete light, and listened as the voice roared at her to stop being a moron because those things were impossible. It couldn't be light or dark at the same time, nor could it be hot and cold at the same time. That was stupid, because they were complete opposites of each other, and if something hot touched something cold, they both cooled or heated to a neutral temperature because that's how the world worked and no insane, golden-haired bimbo was going to say differently. Now that she thought about it too, the voice in her head seemed to be quite correct.

Lastly, the voice told her to buck up and take the pain, which had already begun to slowly fade, as had the other effects. The room came back into view. Demetria was standing there, smiling at her, but that didn't last. Before Sakura could move, the woman had crossed the room and punched her in the stomach, throwing her with numbing force against the wall. She gasped, dry heaving and trying to reclaim her stolen breath as she fell to the floor, blood dribbling from the corner of her mouth.

"How silly," Demetria said. "It seems your mind is still a bit hard to fool isn't it? You can't link Shadow Words that are opposites after all, which is why only fear and pain worked well enough." She sighed, dramatically. "You're really annoying, little shinobi girl. So annoying that I might just consider killing you, although that look," she was referring to Sakura's eyes, which were glaring at her with a determined, fierce hatred that seemed to say that as soon as she could move she'd wipe that smile off Demetria's face and tear her limb from limb.

"Is more arousing than anything I have ever seen." Demetria felt her blood boil with delight, and she matched the glare with one of her wild stares, all the emotions she currently felt mixed into one fierce look. She moved forwards, her mouth open and gleefully baring her perfect white teeth, which now seemed more like fangs.

"Die!" she roared.

Sakura moved forwards too, just as a wind swept past them, and Demetria was blasted from her feet and slammed against the wall, shattering the stone and sending cracks through its entire length. She gasped, heaving a generous amount of blood from her ruined lungs and chest, staring with inhuman fury at Kira. The girl was standing and had her hands thrust out, and they were glowing with a vaguely golden light that was just fading.

'Banish Evil'

"That…" Demetria began.

"Is used for banishing demons and Scourge," said Kira. She had a grim smile on her face, vaguely triumphant, vaguely pitying and also vaguely disgusted—at herself or Demetria it was unclear. "You showed me all of those Taints earlier," she said. "They're all over your body. I guess they make you more a demon than a human, hmm? I wonder what the Scarlet Crusade would say about that?"

Demetria slid off the wall into a staggering walk, her face twisted with rage. "It doesn't matter, you stupid girl. They don't matter to me. Nothing does! They're just the most fun I could have right now! Humans are just as bad as demons, as orcs, as trolls, and even as undead! Everything in this world is disgusting and violent and so unbelievably pathetic that they need to be destroyed, to be slaughtered, to be taught a fucking lesson! We war, we kill, we rape but we're no fucking different from any other race that's come over this world, which means that we have just as much right to die as they do! I would like nothing more than to kill everything, and the Scarlet Crusade is allowing me a chance at doing that!"

Kira was no longer smiling, and had recoiled. The look on Demetria's face was nothing like she had ever seen on a human's. No, that wasn't quite right.

She had seen a similar look on Naruto's face when the Kyuubi had taken control of him.

It was not quite hate, because it was so powerful that no living thing on earth could manage it without it being entirely in their nature. This was not a woman, no, it couldn't be. No human was that evil, that sick, that profoundly vile that they could conjure a hate that bordered on that of a force of nature. No human could equal the Kyuubi, which seemed to hate everything so much that it used its prodigious powers to do exactly what Demetria wanted to do—destroy everything in its path.

She couldn't be human.

Demetria roared in fury, making a single, very brief hand sign, and then gripped the sides of her head so forcefully it looked like she was trying to crush her skull. But then something happened.

'Shadow Name: Demetria'

Beneath Demetria's feet a huge puddle of shadow emerged, rapidly growing around her, stretching creepers and claws and growling, snapping heads that looked like dogs, but could have been dragons. They rose up around her like a hedge of shadow, coiling around her body, but never touching her, and branching out into the room. It seemed to grow smaller, darker and colder with each second. Demetria was not smiling now, but had a look of grim determination on her face.

"I'll kill you first, princess. I don't really need you anyways. No matter how delicious you are, I'd like you dead far more."

She took a step forwards, but a monstrous boom halted her. It came from beyond the room, very distant, but it made the room shake slightly. She looked towards it, frowning.

"So they have come?" she said. "Ah! Then perhaps…" she grinned. "He's come, too."

Kira knit her brows in confusion at the woman's words. But she felt a sudden chill enter the room. It ran up her spine and danced along her shoulders, and though she couldn't see or hear anything, she knew something was wrong, and that something had just entered the building.

The only thing that could possibly enter, too, was what was all around them.

Demetria laughed. "I wonder what will happen. His Holiness has been waiting to meet him, I hope they get a chance to. They are perfect for each other, I should think."

Hisari felt weak, drained of every bit of her chakra and feeling unbearably, frustratingly vulnerable. She could barely lift her sword, and even minutes into the fight, she found herself unable to even injure the Dreadlord that stood before her, towering almost half the height of the room, covering it in a shadow and filling it with the buzzing of a thousand invisible insects. The creature looked almost exactly like Lord Varimathras—Sylvanas' henchman from the Undercity—whom Hisari despised as much as the next blood elf, who all found demons to be loathsome creatures. It had great black wings, a pair of long, pointed horns and extremely pale skin. In fact, the resemblance was so shocking that Hisari was sure that they were related.

The moment it had revealed itself from the corpse, she had attacked, prepared to finish what she had started.

But she could not.

No matter how many times she struck it—first removing its arm, then cutting it across the stomach, through the thick, black armor it wore, and then across the thigh, nearly severing that too. After all of this, the creature had not done anything but laugh.

Laugh! At her! How dare it? How dare it have the gall to laugh at her? She had watched as the wounds she had dealt it healed, and the arm she had removed regenerate. The creature had continued to laugh—great, violent booms that shook the ground—before deciding to show her how much of an idiot she was to have not run in fear.

Hisari had never been hit so hard in her life.

Now, still recovering from the attack, she stood against a mostly ruined portion of the curved wall of the chamber. The Dreadlord was staring at her, its crimson eyes—so beady that they seemed almost invisible on its massive bulk—shined like rubies in the dull light. It didn't speak to her, and instead stretched its wings out to their fullest length, as if trying to impress upon her the foolishness of her situation. The buzzing grew louder when it did this, and she could almost seem them—the tiny, almost invisible insects that flew around the beast at all times, forming its corruption swarm, an ability that all Dreadlords possessed in some form or another. The insects, when utilized properly, devoured a person's mind and made them the Dreadlord's slave. This one did not seem to be interested in using it so far, but even if he did, Hisari didn't care. She would kill this creature, no matter what!

She could feel it running through her veins, like liquid fire, and it made her want to grin, want to employ ever facet of it. She wanted to make it flow from every tenketsu in her body, to surround herself in it so that she became stronger and faster, infinitely more powerful than this disgusting beast of the Twisting Nether. She wanted to show it the consequences of laughing at her.

But, at the same time, she restrained herself.

Geez, that's all that separates you from them, huh?

She bit her lip and growled in frustration. She looked up at the Dreadlord, wanting to rip it apart, but knowing that it would be foolish to lose herself in her power. She would not be stupid—this thing was strong, so she needed all of her wits about her in order to defeat it. She then remembered Myrdraxxis, glancing up at the hole in the ceiling where he had been. He wasn't there.

But she didn't care, she didn't need him anyways. She could stop this thing herself. She raised her hands, making one of them into a seal, and using the other to heft her sword onto her shoulder.

'Pure-Edged Steel'

Her sword began to glow—not all of it, just the very edge, gleaming with a sudden, intensely bright golden light. It seemed to become lighter in her grip, but at the same time her legs seemed to become heavier, and she didn't know why. She had barely used any of her attacks, and had only been hit once—how was she so weak?

Nevertheless, she pressed forwards. Smiling grimly, she hurtled herself at the Dreadlord's cloven legs, lifting her sword up and grasping it with the other hand. The Dreadlord swung a clawed hand at her but she dodged, leaping to the side, breathing heavily and feeling weaker with each step. But she didn't stop, so the Dreadlord lifted both of its wings and began to beat them furiously.

It was as if a windstorm had suddenly kicked up; hot, incredibly strong wind beat at the elf, who would have toppled back had she not affixed herself to the floor with her chakra, baring her teeth and roaring loudly into the wind.

She lifted her blade and threw it, making it spiral across the room, through the windstorm as if it had met no resistance. It buried itself in the Dreadlord's chest with a wet, hollow sound making the demon stumble back, lowering its wings and grunting in something like pain. The storm immediately ceased, but Hisari could no longer move.

"You'll find," the demon told her, "that this battle is at an end."

She bared her teeth at it again. "Oh?" she said, panting.

"It is difficult to battle me for long. My presence drains the life of others, you see. We feed on other's life force and chakra."

She didn't want to believe it. "This fight has only just begun," she said, still breathless. "Wait and see, demon."

"You are not even human," the creature said. "Have some sense. I have no wish to kill you because you could be very useful to me. The Scarlet Crusade is far from dead." It took a step towards her, and she matched it, glaring. But now that the demon mentioned it, she could feel it. Her strength slowly ebbing away, trickling like water from a leaking tank. And the creature seemed to grow larger, more powerful with each quavering step she took towards it. The Dreadlord looked down at her, pitilessly, but did not move. It was waiting for her to move or die.

It enraged her. He wasn't going to even kill her! He was going to let her die or humiliate herself! She'd do no such thing! She felt her veins ignite and her body become as light as air, and she felt the power begin to pour from her body, erupting from each of her one-hundred twenty eight tenketsu and expanding in an aura around her. She didn't need chakra! All she needed was this! It was hers, and gave her more strength than this bastard could even hope to take!

The Dreadlord moved, swinging at her one of its cloven feet connected to tree trunk legs, but Hisari was able to move easily out of the way, and make a hand sign. The green light that had coalesced around her turned gold and spread out around her in a flash of light and the sound of cracking stone.

'Consecration.'

The Dreadlord finally backed away, its tiny eyes growing even smaller as the very ground beneath it began to burn its feet, glowing with a holy light. Golden flames licked his shins and rose up higher, towards his thighs and upper body, but the pain wasn't even close to unbearable. But the little gnat was already attacking again. She had picked up her weapon and now flew at the demon with a powerful scream, slashing her blade across its legs, severing them both.

The demon roared and toppled onto its knees, making fire erupt all around it and bringing it face to face with the wrathful elf. She was grinning and had her sword raised to deliver a final blow to sever the demon's head in two. She seemed to hesitate, as if giving it a chance to beg for its life, or to stop the fight, just as it had given her.

But the Dreadlord just stared at her, its beady eyes growing smaller and its face colder.

It did not like being mocked.

Then the air became unbearably cold, and beneath the demon, a black pool had formed. It ate the glowing light and dowsed the flames, and grew ever larger until it had covered almost half the room, and Hisari was standing not on floor but knee-deep in a black, murky swamp. Clawed hands began to emerge from it, grabbing at her feet and thighs, while the black water itself began to burn her skin and constrict around her, pulling her deeper into the pit.

She growled and looked up. The Dreadlord was standing again, his legs already healed.

"Pathetic," it said. It stood atop the black pool, and though its facial expression remained stony, Hisari took its words as a sneer. She grew more furious, and began to struggle, but the pool pulled her down faster, constricting over her arms and breasts and stretching towards her face. The claws came out reaching for her, trying to pull her under.

She wanted to scream, but couldn't.

She was too angry.

Then the black stuff stopped trying to pull her in, and she heard a roar of pain from above her. The demon had fallen forwards, struck by Myrdraxxis' first attack, from right above it. His blades—Tuska and Poena---crackling with purple lightning, carved straight through the Dreadlord's shoulders and down the length of its back, severing the armor it wore and making purplish blood spew.

The Dreadlord gave its first fully agonized roar as the Forsaken ripped his blades out and then began slashing at one of its legs. The cuts were quick and silent and clean, and he severed the demon's leg for a second time in only two blows. It toppled to the side, thrashing, while he moved quickly away and prepared another attack.

Hisari began thrashing too, pulling herself from the shadowy pool as it began to disappear around her. She pulled herself up and out just as it vanished, still covered in some of the sticky blackness. Myrdraxxis moved towards her, and was very quickly by her side.

"Forgive me," he said. "I was late."

"It is fine," she said. She could still feel the power surging within her, but her mind felt clearer now. For some reason, she was glad the Forsaken was here. "It is not dead."

"That is obvious," Myrdraxxis said.

The demon was standing once more, perfectly intact.

"How does one kill it?"

"One cannot." Myrdraxxis began slowly moving to the side, as if making to circle the beast. "This is no ordinary demon. It is Balnazzar."

"That means nothing to me," she said. The demon suddenly moved to attack, opening its mouth and roaring out a stream of purple flames that made them scatter. Hisari ran along the left and Myrdraxxis the right, and the Dreadlord moved to the right, deeming Myrdraxxis more dangerous. The rogue did not attack, and instead retreated, allowing Hisari to leap up and drive her sword under the Dreadlord's arm.

It did not kill the beast, but it did exactly as she had intended. It struck an artery, and she was drenched in a geyser of demonic blood, before being thrown clear across the room from the demon's suddenly flailing. Myrdraxxis, seeing his chance, leapt up and aimed for the Dreadlord's head. His blades crackled, raised high above his head pointed down.

"Enough!"

The Dreadlord extended one wing, deflected Myrdraxxis' attack, and then smashed him across the room with one hand. He landed roughly against the wall, feeling little pain but experiencing a jarring disorientation that rendered him unable to move while the Dreadlord turned towards him.

"I have no use for Forsaken," It told him. "Sylvanas did me a great offense in the past. I will not soon forget that she as good as killed me and put me in that disgusting body." Balnazzar raised its palm, surrounding it in evil purple chakra. It fired from it a series of glowing lances, which impaled Myrdraxxis and drove him back against the wall, pinning him to it.

Now the rogue felt pain, pain that he hadn't felt since he was alive. It was like he was dying all over again.

He screamed.

Hisari was running towards him, but the Dreadlord swept her out of the way with one of its wings, throwing her again against the wall. She was left unable to move this time, slumping to the floor amidst the rubble from her collision. She stared desperately at the scene as Myrdraxxis thrashed, and Balnazzar advanced towards him, until it towered over the pinned rogue. She could see it happening, and yet she could do nothing, and for some reason, she didn't want to watch what was going to happen.

She didn't want to watch Myrdraxxis die.

"Your mistress will join you soon," Balnazzar said, raising a glowing claw. "Expect her to be in pieces, like she left me. I shall send my coward of a brother with her, as well."

Hisari slammed her eyes shut and waited for the brutal, wet tearing of Myrdraxxis' rotten flesh and his final grunt. All she could think was that she didn't want him to die. She didn't know why, she'd seen hundreds die. It would be nothing, but she couldn't watch or even dare to picture his final moments, which oddly came in the sound of a banging door and a roar of anger.

Her eyes darted open for a moment.

Two figures streaked into the room. Naruto went for Balnazzar, straight for its face with a blade glowing with wind chakra, while Tsuwabuki moved slightly to the side and went for Balnazzar's prey, Myrdraxxis. They reached their targets at the same time, and Balnazzar redirected his attention immediately, swatting at Naruto with its claw. All he destroyed were a few Kage Bunshin that Naruto had summoned barely a second before, while he had dashed beneath the demon, holding out one hand.

'Rasengan'

He leapt up, slamming the spiraling sphere between Balnazzar's gigantic legs. In a white flash of light the attack bored its way through Balnazzar's flesh, flinging waves of deadly chakra through its body, and blasted the demon off its feet. It crashed on top of its golden throne; its back snapped against the armholders and its body shook furiously from the chakra of the Rasengan; and probably more pain than it had ever experienced in its nigh endless life.

Tsuwabuki had removed Myrdraxxis from the wall, and had laid him nearer to the golden doors. Still shaking from his attack, Naruto turned and shouted to the Forsaken.

"Are you okay?"

The rogue didn't respond, clutching his chest, which was gushing green ichor even as he spoke. Naruto gulped in horror at the damage, not knowing what to do. He didn't have anything to heal him. How could he—

A sound drew him back to the throne. Balnazzar was standing, and something had changed in his demeanor. There was fury written on his pale face and in his tiny eyes, which glowed like stubborn coals in a dead fire. He stared at Naruto, gnashing his teeth and uttering a low growl.

"To think," it said. "One of 'them' could possibly be here. I had only heard stories of your kind until now. I wasn't sure that I'd get to face one in battle."

Hisari watched the boy as he turned back towards Balnazzar, frowning. "Got the wrong guy," he said. He then looked at Hisari, and his eyes lit up. "Elf! You have to help Myrdraxxis, he's hurt pretty bad!"

Balnazzar stood. "Wrong. She is to become my slave. You too, apparently."

Naruto grit his teeth. "No way! I'm the only one I get to obey! I'm nobody's slave."

"My blood will make you say differently," he looked back at her, and grinned. "She has already been drenched in it. She should find herself weakening already. Her body will not be able to resist it now."

Hisari struggled to stand, but felt herself unable to. Her body was shaking uncontrollably, and she couldn't get herself into even a sitting position. Something hot was boiling inside her stomach, slowly spreading to other parts of her body. The shaking grew worse and she looked up, staring at Naruto with something in her face and eyes that made the boy's own widen in surprise. Then he cursed, and growled at the Dreadlord.

"She's fine."

Hisari nearly fell. What was he talking about?

"She's a big girl. She's strong enough to defeat whatever you can throw at her. She's not a weakling, you know. She's just a bit headstrong, like me." He glanced down at Tsuwabuki, who now stood by his side. "Oi, fox, think you can help me with something? I'm going to need some of your chakra to do this. I spent a lot against that muscle-headed guy."

'Fine,' the fox told him. 'If only because I'm happy to see you. Don't expect any more favors.'

Naruto shrugged, and bit his lip. He reached up and smeared some of the blood on his thumb, and then made a few hand signs. Tsuwabuki lowered herself into a crouched position, growling.

'Kuchiyose no jutsu!'

With the massive cloud of white smoke, which obscured Naruto, Tsuwabuki and Balnazzar and the side of the room they occupied, the temperature of the room dropped. It became so cold that frost formed on Hisari's lips and froze the sweat on her brow. But it seemed to cool the fire in her veins as well, enough for her to pull herself to her knees, just as the skeletal head of a dragon emerged from the smoke, level with the tops Balnazzar's horns.

"SO," the voice chilled the room even more, and now Hisari was shaking because of the cold, not the pain from her body or the infection from the demon's blood. "WHAT HAVE YOU BROUGHT TO APPEASE ME THIS TIME, BRAT?"

Naruto's voice came from the white smoke still obscuring the dragon's body, loud and clear; somehow enough to warm and calm Hisari enough to stand.

"Just a big dumb demon to eat, if you want."

Balnazzar stared up at the frost wyrm, clearly surprised but furious at the boy's new obstacle. The skeletal dragon, Boreagos, gazed down at the Dreadlord, the two glowing crystals inside its eye sockets growing brighter as it issued a deep, frigid laugh that blew cold smoke into Balnazzar's face.

"NATHREZIM? YOU SHOULD BE DEAD. IT SEEMS THAT YOUR BROTHER DID NOT DO HIS JOB WELL, DID HE?"

The Dreadlord spread its wings. "He never did, that Varimathras."

Sai opened his sketchbook, and flipped to the middle pages where the binding stitches showed through the paper; a large, heavily inked picture stretched across both pages, so heavy that it was difficult to make out. But Sai knew it well, and even took a moment to gaze fondly at it, his eyes flitting over every thick outline among the hundreds of figures that had been painted into the picture against a dark background—a forest—so opaquely inked it should have soaked through to the pages beyond. Sai smiled at the picture one last time, before holding it up and speaking to Fordragon. The Scarlet Crusader was in no hurry to fight and just stood there, watching Sai.

"I'm glad you waited so patiently," said Sai. "I do not usually make a habit of doing this, but I feel that I must."

"I have all the time I need," Fordragon said. "But you are no less odd, shinobi. I thought you were a true one for a moment, but it seems that I was wrong."

"Naruto-kun is likely responsible," said Sai. "He has affected me a lot, though I didn't realize it until now. I guess I value his friendship more than I ever thought I would. I also wonder what you mean by 'true' shinobi. Have you met one?"

"Many."

"How odd." Sai looked down at his sketchbook for a moment. "Where?"

"Why ask, when my answer does not matter?"

"You seemed willing to talk beforehand," said Sai. "I also must gather up the necessary chakra to use this jutsu, and I don't believe that you will remain passive for very much longer."

Fordragon grunted. "I am no shinobi, boy. I have some honor."

"That is odd," said Sai. "I didn't think Scarlet Crusaders would believe in such things, seeing as how they are so driven to destroy. They are more like wild animals, but you are very different."

"I am not tainted as they are," he said.

"Oh," Sai retorted, feeling that his chakra was almost ready. "But it is really rather foolish of you to not attack me. You have no idea what attack this is do you?"

"It is nothing," Fordragon said. "That I or my men will not be able to handle."

The sounds of footsteps rapidly getting louder filled the room. A few seconds later the doors burst open and hundred Scarlet Crusaders rushed in, all dressed in full armor and wielding weapons of all sorts. Some were grinning, and some looked afraid. None of them, however, were looking at Sai.

"They have arrived, then?" Fordragon said.

"They broke through!" said one, looking desperate.

"They are tainting this place with their unholy filth, milord!" Another roared, gleefully. "We must tear them to bits and show their master our strength and their weakness! We must purify this place once again, bathed in their blood!"

"We shall," Fordragon said. He had not once taken his eyes off Sai. "But there is the problem of this one, before that. Who among you believes that you can defeat this one without killing him? Who among you has that strength?"

Some stared at their lord as if he were insane, while others looked eager to try and please him. Nevertheless, a hundred Crusaders soon converged around Sai like hungry wolves, brandishing their weapons and pressing ever closer. Sai stood still, smiling pleasantly at Fordragon.

"Have you enough chakra, boy?"

Sai nodded, and held up his sketchbook. The black ink was dripping from the page, and had already formed a pool at his feet.

Fordragon lifted his sword. "Do not kill him."

"You are really loyal," Sai said.

"Not by choice." Fordragon leapt at Sai, lifting his sword and bringing it crashing down, both in a second, with such force that it tore straight through Sai's body and blew the stone floor apart in a tremendous flash of golden light. Sai's body was ripped with sickening sounds into a dozen pieces, and each was flung into the air, spewing black blood all over Fordragon. Sai's head, separated in two, still smiled even as they hit the ground—

And dissolved into puddles of black.

Fordragon stood, surprised by the boy's speed with the replacement—he hadn't even seen it. Yet, it soon became clear that it was not the trick he had expected—the puddles of black grew larger, expanding until they converged into a pool of ink, which sloshed against the boots of the Scarlet Crusaders, who stumbled and glared and swore at what was happening. The world seemed to be getting brighter.

Fordragon looked up, and saw the ceiling and walls fade away into a blank white sheet, not unlike the pages of Sai's sketchbook. By contrast the ground was still an inky black.

Then, something happened.

Inky black sketches began to appear on the white background, forming trees that towered high into the air with patches of bush clumped around them; they looked as if they had been painted by a painter who didn't particularly like painting. Everything was painted in a hasty fury, until the world became pointed and half-formed like a darkened sketch. They were in a forest, which loomed immense around them, made of black and white and all shades of grey. It all moved, as well. The forest seemed alive—the trees shook as if caught in an invisible breeze, and the bushes shifted and shook as tiny animals—rabbits that looked like little more than circles with long ears, and squirrels with comically curled tails and large teeth, scurried out and up trees and did what they did in reality.

Fordragon watched all of this, amazed at the boy's conception of reality. It was amazing, and yet he felt he knew this place and knew it well. The feeling grew stronger as the inky black ground, now solid, began to grow upwards. Arms flailed into the air and heads emerged from nothing but shadow, rising up among the Crusaders, who quickly began to panic. One of them cut down a half-formed figure, which plunged back into the depths, but quickly rose again.

Fordragon did nothing, standing in the middle of a group of figures, which soon became whole.

He suddenly found himself surrounded by eyes. Blank, completely white eyes that showed straight through the solid black outlines of the hunched and clawed and shambling figures that he knew quite well.

Fordragon would have laughed if he hadn't been forced to attack. They came at him all at once, slashing with huge black claws that felt as real as in the Plaguelands that he had wandered for half his life, first to guide the actions of a young priestess, and then to destroy every living thing—whether Scourge or human—that crossed his path. They tore at his armor as he slashed and cut and beat them back with everything he had. He unleashed every technique he knew, hammering the dark masses into the ground, from which they rose again and again to renew their attacks.

He heard the screams of his dying men. They were being slaughtered like the animals they were. He could care less. They deserved to die like dogs, just as he did.

The painted Scourge tore away all of his armor, and then began on his flesh. They gnawed and slashed at his thick skin and his iron-hard muscles, tearing off great chunks and drenching the black ground in red blood. But Fordragon didn't stop, didn't even break the swing in his sword, no matter how much he was damaged. He cut down every Scourge that bit him, but it always got up again.

He could feel his death coming towards him like a flood, ready to sweep him off his feet and drown him in darkness. He ran to meet it, ran to it with his sword swinging, never stopping. He ran like the warrior he was, towards the shinobi brat who would be the one to succeed where so many had failed to destroy him.

Just a child, too.

The last piece of armor to be torn from his body was his helmet. It was ripped from his head, revealing a face, hardened by years of war and slaughter; a face so scarred that he had been forced to wear a helmet until his very death to hide it.

But of course, he wasn't hiding his face; he needed something to stop them from seeing it.

The despair at what he had become. What she had made him into.

And he laughed then, free of the despair, because he was dead and he'd be going to that dark place before her. He'd get some peace and quiet, if only for a while. She wouldn't die so soon, after all. She was his mistress, and even as he died, he couldn't deny that.

Then it was over. They tore at his face until there was no flesh left, until it was nothing but bone covered in a sticky, bloody sheen with clear fluid oozing from the sockets and the nose cavity. The Scourge tore at his body until there was nothing, ripping the great Crusader, and before that, the great Highlord and Regent of Stormwind, Bolvar Fordragon, to bloody pieces and dragging the stripped bones back into the inky darkness.

Sai closed the sketchbook with a snap. The room was empty, and seemed almost lonely. There was no evidence of a slaughter, nothing at all. He did frown, however, when a bit of red dripped from the edge of the page onto the clean white floor. He wiped the smudge from the book and replaced it in his weapons pouch.

And then he collapsed to his knees, unable to move any longer, his chakra nearly gone.

"How did you like it?" he whispered, knowing well there was nobody there.

"My best picture yet."

He felt the ground shake beneath him, and a distant sound fill his ears. It was unnatural, loud, a torrent of violent screams, moans and snarls, coming slowly towards him. The sounds behind him too, from beyond the golden door grew louder and more ferocious. He laughed a little, and wondered if he was going to die, just after he had made his first friend in a long time.

"It was about time," said Demetria, stroking one of the black tendrils that flowed from beneath her feet, now close to filling the room. They had driven Sakura, Kira and Kylia to the very back of the room, until they could no longer run. The shadows surrounded them on all sides, drawing slowly closer, but not launching their attack. Demetria had changed tunes upon hearing the crashing sound, now a steady but still distant rumble of hundreds of feet hitting the carpeted floor of the Bastion. "After all, no fortress can stand forever."

Kira could feel it. A chill had crept into her bones, rising slowly up her spine, a chill that she had never felt before. But Benedictus had described it to her, once. You won't feel their anger, their hatred for life, he had told her. You'll feel an chill instead—the chill of their frozen hearts and their absent souls, and no matter where you stand—against a fire or in the burning sun, the chill will persist until they have gone away. Those hypersensitive to it, those with weak hearts and minds, have been defeated before they even see their enemies.

They had come, then, she realized. The situation couldn't be worse. She had no idea what type of power this was, but she had already tried several jutsu to banish the dark tendrils, but none had been effective. They multiplied like hydra heads, and with each one destroyed another two burst into being. Their touch was corrosive, like acid and Kylia had found that out the hard way. They would die before they could get within five feet of Demetria.

Kira was looking at Sakura, who stood in front of her and Kylia. The girl was shaking from head to toe, and her breathing was labored and she looked ready to collapse, and Kira couldn't understand why. She bore few wounds, none of which were able to harm her, and the stamina that Kira had given her should have been able to keep her up and running for much longer.

"Sakura?" she whispered.

The girl didn't respond, and only breathed faster. She gave a violent spasm.

"You got it in you, didn't you?"

Demetria was smiling malevolently. She had noticed Sakura too, and clapped her hands in childish delight to see it. "Didn't get out of the way fast enough, hmm? The blood taints your veins, doesn't it? It wasn't much, but you should be open to more suggestions now. Your blood should be soon on fire, shouldn't it? His Holiness's blood is very special, you see. He is a demon, a very powerful one, and his blood taints and corrupts like all demons' do. That's how most of our finest Crusaders were made—they went from innocent little puppies to mad dogs with only a few drops! You won't be as bad, but you'll certainly change your tune by the end of this fight, dear girl."

Sakura didn't seem to be listening. She stared forwards and simply shook, her breathing becoming more rapid. Kira rushed up to her, placing her hands against Sakura's back. She prepared to release more healing chakra into her skin, to flush out the evil blood, but then Sakura whispered something.

Kira stepped back, a little stunned, and before she could say or do anything otherwise, Sakura bolted forwards, straight into the forest of grasping tendrils.

Demetria burst into laughter, unable to believe the girl's stupidity. She was laughing so hard that she did not notice that Sakura wasn't screaming, nor had she stopped running. Her stride did not break all the way to Demetria, her opened her eyes in time to have Sakura's fist strike her solidly in the stomach, unleashing a frightening amount of power into her. Demetria was thrown across the room and through the wall, bursting out into the room beyond, a small cell that had likely been for a Crusader to sleep in. She even flew across that room and slammed into the stony wall, cracking it, her whole body shaking in agony. There was blood all over her mouth and face and her body hung limply, wedged inside the crater in the wall.

Only her eyes remained unchanged. She stood up and took one step forwards, with primal hatred in her eyes.

Sakura dropped to the floor, unable to move. Kira ran past her, straight towards the room. The last few moments before Sakura had attacked, she had spoken a few words to Kira that had compelled her to act.

'The blood didn't touch me. Her mind. You have to attack her mind because that's the only thing that she can't protect.'

She raised her hands and made a seal. Kylia was right beside her, and had withdrawn the blades she always carried inside her skin, and had hurtled them at Demetria. Two struck her shoulders, and another two her thighs. Demetria stopped walking, either from pain or the paralyzing poison that Kylia had soaked into each blade, immune to it herself. Kylia had decided it. This wasn't Demi, her beloved savior. She was a monster; and this monster had threatened her mistress, and any monster that dared to do such a thing must be destroyed. There were no tears in her eyes when she threw the daggers and no fear in her heart.

But Demetria didn't even look at her. She just stared at Kira, with those hateful, hateful eyes.

And Kira, raising her hands, could match them finally without fear. She had no question now that this wasn't her mother. This wasn't even a human being. That simple knowledge cleared her mind, and made her purpose entirely clear. It also exposed the very weakness that Sakura had noticed first. Demetria's emotions changed so much, her mind was so unstable that any single strike to it, in the perfect place, could shatter it utterly and that was what she was going to do. She was going to tear down the ruined wall in Demetria's mind, and destroy it from within.

No fortress could last forever, after all.

'Mind Blast'

When the jutsu struck Demetria, her head snapped back and her hands were half raised to her head, before falling limp. She uttered a low moan, and then a louder one, and then began to scream. She stumbled back against the wall and began to shake madly, blood frothing at her mouth, her eyes rolling up into her head. She writhed so much that the daggers fell from her body, the sounds of their falling drowned out by Demetria's screams.

The force of Kira's assault had been immense, though unneeded. It had shattered the pitiful natural defenses that shielded her mind and overloaded everything in it. It was like an explosion in her head.

Everything burst in a tremendous flash before her eyes. She couldn't see or think, couldn't breath, and there was so much pain around her. She screamed and roared and thrashed and tried to go back, to get up, but she couldn't. Then the darkness came for her, creeping up behind her and dragging her back, along with all that she had done, to the depths.

She fought the whole way. She screamed and swore and told her that she'd get out again, that'd she'd be free and that there was nothing she could do about it. She would fucking kill everyone, just like they had said they would, like they had always planned to from the moment she had flung them into the back of her pure and shining mind and locked them away. They would get out. They wouldn't go away, they shouted in many different voices—one a woman, arrogant and proud but cowardly in spirit; another a man, ferocious in temper and cruel at heart; both familiar yet distant by dozens of years. They all shouted at her as she stood and walked away from them, leaving them in that small, rotten pile; defeated but never accepting it.

Like spoiled children.

Like they'd been in real life.

Then when she opened her eyes—it was so bright, and so loud—she saw somebody standing before her. She thought it first a mirror and that she was standing in front of it, glaring at herself with pity and disgust as she had so often done in her childhood. But she realized it was somebody else, somebody whom she couldn't identify for a moment, until the eyes came to her. They were like hers, beautiful and purple.

'Why did you marry me?'

'Your eyes. I loved your eyes from the moment I met you.'

'Just my eyes?'

'Your soul is what I really loved. But your eyes let me see it.'

It was real this time. Her eyes. Her hair. Her face. Her voice, grace, and poise; even her smell, like roses. It all was she. She knew this young woman.

"Kira? My daughter?"

Boreagos snapped his head forwards, his mouth open and spewing icy air all over Balnazzar's pale face and in its beady eyes. The Dreadlord lifted a hand and struck the frost wyrm solidly in the jaw, throwing him violently to the side. Naruto and Tsuwabuki stumbled in their positions on top of the dragon's back, but the beast quickly recovered by beating his immense skeletal wings, threaded with a thin veil of frost in place of the leathery skin that most dragons had. The frost wyrm breathed a stream of ice over Balnazzar's face, engulfing it in searing frost that did little to dissuade the demon from bashing the dragon's head a second time. Balnazzar's body buzzed, and soon a black and green haze began to surround it, composed of millions of tiny insects: its corruption swarm.

It opened its mouth and breathed a stream of the black bugs at Boreagos, not aiming so much for the dragon, as there was little chance of them affecting him, but more towards the boy on top.

Boreagos snarled a warning. 'DON'T TOUCH THEM.'

Naruto, already thoroughly schooled in Dreadlord anatomy solely from his fight with Varimathras, knew this and simply grunted in response. Tsuwabuki removed the threat with a bellowing blast from her mouth. Naruto was more concerned with the fact that no matter what was done to the demon, nothing seemed to injure it.

"How the hell do we stop him from regenerating?"

Boreagos laughed, a howling sound like the wind in the dead of winter. 'YOU DESTROY HIM, BRAT. THAT IS WHAT WE SHALL DO. DESTROY HIM UTTERLY. IT IS HOW SYLVANAS DID IT THE FIRST TIME.'

"And how did it end?" Balnazzar rumbled, as the ice melted from his face, and more of the dark green light began to pulsate around him. "She let my brother do the honors, knowing full well that it is against our kind to destroy brethren. She trusted blood against her influence. Pathetic."

'YES, INDEED. ALMOST AS PATHETIC AS HIDING IN THE BODY OF A HUMAN FOR ALL THOSE YEARS.'

The Dreadlord blurred forwards, beating its massive wings to increase its speed, and smashed its claw into Boreagos' skull. The blow once again offset the dragon, and nearly threw Naruto and Tsuwabuki from his back once again, but he recovered and slashed the demon with his great claws, and then rammed his skull into Balnazzar's bleeding front. The Dreadlord flew back and struck the wall, sending cracks right up to the ceiling.

Balnazzar roared in fury, spreading its wings and opening its great mouth, vomiting a collection of purple fireballs that shot across the room and nearly tore it apart. The flames stuck to the ground like oil fire, and clung to Boreagos' wing flaps, which he had used to protect Naruto and Tsuwabuki. Balnazzar laughed and stomped the ground. A black pool much like the one he had used against Hisari appeared, right below Boreagos.

'SUCH FEEBLE ATTEMPTS; NO WONDER YOU FAILED TO DESTROY MY MISTRESS.' The dragon spread his wings and flew into the air over the swamp, and then shot like a bullet towards Balnazzar. He slammed into the demon, knocking it into the ground and blasting apart the already scarred floor. Naruto and Tsuwabuki leapt off at the last second, as the room shook violently, and it grew worse as the two beasts fought on the ground, clawing and striking each other with wild abandon, though neither did much damage. Balnazzar pushed Boreagos to the ground and drove one of its long, spear-like horns through the dragon's ribcage.

"She failed to destroy me! " Balnazzar thundered. "Sending one of my own kind to do it? Disgusting!" It beat its wings and flew back, breathing more purple fireballs onto the fallen dragon. They exploded, engulfing him in violet fire, but it did little to injure him, for the icy mist that eternally collected around him quickly doused it. The dragon righted himself, laughing coldly, but said nothing.

Naruto was breathing quickly as he watched the fight. He didn't know what he was going to do. They seemed evenly matched so he knew that he and Tsuwabuki would have to step in and make the difference. But how was he going to do that? And what could he possibly do that would destroy this beast? He had no attack to do such a—

Naruto blinked. Maybe he did. He just had to….

Hisari, breathing heavily but still standing, stared first at Naruto and then at the battling monsters. She felt exhausted, and the corrupting fire within her was regaining its intensity, and she knew she wouldn't be able to stand for much longer. But she didn't know what to do, how to fight! She didn't know if she could.

But for some reason, she felt that she had to.

The boy had said something that she had never expected him to say. He had said, quite plainly, with that honest sincerity that somebody like him couldn't fake, that he trusted her. He trusted her to beat the demon's corruption and it was so shocking that she couldn't process it. Why did the boy trust her? How could he? After he had left her before? She had refused to give up on her addiction, and yet he still trusted her when they had barely spoken a word since. Had he just been saying it?

No. That couldn't be possible. If it was one thing she had learned about him it was that he didn't lie, and probably couldn't. He had such an open personality that she couldn't help but feel that his words had been true and she couldn't understand why!

She was on her last legs. The Sunwell's power could probably heal her, probably rid her of the corruption, but she wouldn't be able to control it once she did. She might even run out of chakra, and then she'd probably die of mana poisoning. But no matter how she looked at it she couldn't help but feel that she had to do it.

She had to fight.

She felt the power flowing within her. She felt the strength it could offer her, the rush, the feeling of superiority. But this time she didn't take it. Instead she looked down on it. She towered over it. She didn't need it to feel superior.

She already was.

She was stronger than it. It could offer her nothing that she did not already have, and so when she seized it this time, the rush became different. It did not consume her, did not fill her with the absolute possibility that she would win; it filled her with the knowledge that she had the ability to win, that she could win if she fought this battle with everything she had. The rush heightened her senses, but she felt on top of it, she felt as if she were on the bank of a river, staring down into the green rushing stream, and laughing at everything that was swept away by it. Her fears and her doubts and the fiery feeling in her body brought on by the demon's corrupted blood: all washed away down the torrential flood.

She was above it.

She ruled it.

The next time the Dreadlord stood up, its body reforming from a vicious blow from Boreagos, it was immediately thrown to the ground again, blasted by a flash of light summoned from above.

'Hammer of Justice'

The mass of dense chakra slammed the demon straight into the floor, pressing it deep into the stone. Balnazzar tried to get up, but again it was struck and pushed farther in. Again and again the jutsu slammed Balnazzar into the ground, and each time Hisari walked closer, dragging her sword behind her. She walked straight up to the fallen demon, which could not move from the crater it now lay in.

"I rule you," she said aloud. The demon didn't move or answer at her words, and she raised her blade for the last time. It pulsed with greenish light, and hummed as she brought it slicing down, atop the fallen beast.

The marble floor shattered, and the entire room was engulfed in a plume of smoke and a shower of stone, and a crash that shook the entire bastion echoed throughout the ruined chamber. Cracks appeared in the walls and ceiling, traveling up to the small hole that Hisari had created in her entrance, making the ceiling unstable. Balnazzar disappeared in the cloud of smoke and rock and the bright flash from Hisari's sword.

But Hisari did not wait around to care. She had not stopped moving straight across the room, in a slow run, to Myrdraxxis. Upon reaching him, she pressed her glowing hands against his wounds.

Naruto watched, entranced. He was partly amazed at the attack, but more so at Hisari's change. Had that been because of what he'd said?

Maybe, he thought. But she would've figured it out anyways. She wasn't stupid, after all.

Hisari finished her healing, and the Forsaken simply stared at her. His yellow glowing eyes were dim from fatigue, but they were no less piercing. Some of the skin on his cheek stretched out a little, and it seemed as if he could be smiling; but he didn't say anything before the yellow glow faded and he slumped forwards. She couldn't tell if he was alive or dead, but for some reason she knew he wasn't.

And she was glad for it.

Naruto's eyes then went to the smoldering hole where Balnazzar had been. Nothing had arisen yet, but Naruto could still feel that slight shiver of dread down his spine, and the demon in his stomach had not yet quieted. Boreagos seemed to agree, and was slowly approaching the crater, preparing his frosty breath to finish the job.

Then the room shook, and the crater exploded.

It happened with brutal speed that nobody was prepared for. Balnazzar rose from the pit and slammed Boreagos into the ground, and began to pulverize the frost wyrm's skull with a succession of brutal blows. Naruto cried out, watching as the dragon's skull was reduced to nothing but shards of white bone, and his body began to shake and then fall into a pile of ordinary bones. All of this then vanished in a white puff of smoke, even as Balnazzar tore across the room, not at Hisari but at Naruto. Naruto raised his hands and made a few clones. He held out one hand and began to gather chakra into it, forming it into a swirling ball, while his clones stabilized it. He then began to reform the chakra, making it lighter, faster, sharper.

But even as he did this he felt something was wrong, and before he even realized that the chakra was not shaping into the jutsu, Balnazzar had reached him. The demon bore down on him, swatting away his clones and grabbing Naruto by the mid-section.

He squeezed so hard that Naruto felt his ribs break. He cried out, fighting viciously to get free, but Balnazzar had already released him—hurtling him across the room into the already shaky wall.

Hisari got up and ran towards him. She could feel the power still pulsing in her, along now with desperation. But Balnazzar turned and loosed a stream of his corruption swarm at her, engulfing her in a black cloud, and then launched itself towards Naruto again. Tsuwabuki leapt up as he passed, and dug her claws into its back, unleashing a wave of sound chakra directly between its wings.

Balnazzar lurched forwards as a hole the size of a basketball was blown straight through its body. But it didn't stop. It roared and flung Tsuwabuki away with a quick flip of its small tail, and then punched her in mid-air.

Naruto struggled to get up. Balnazzar reached him, roaring madly.

"Sad! SAD THAT A CREATURE OF YOUR POWER MUST RELY ON OTHERS!"

Naruto couldn't attack. He was slammed into the wall by Balnazzar, so hard that he couldn't breath and his vision burst into spots. He stared at the demon as it leaned forwards, staring straight into his wide blue eyes with its small red ones. It began to squeeze so hard that Naruto couldn't stay up. His body went limp and his vision began to fade; he could only feel the hot breath—sulfur and burning flesh—and see a hazy outline of an amused expression that could not be deemed a smile; with all its hideously deformed teeth and the unnaturally long stretch of the pale face that made it.

"But how lucky I am," it said. "To be able to tame a creature like you."

Naruto then felt a hatred boil inside him. It rose from his stomach with such ferocity that he thought he might vomit. It burned his throat and sent shivers of life down his limbs and up to his head. Suddenly his vision was clear and he no longer felt pain. But hell chose that precise moment to break loose.

The room shook. A portion of the wall directly to Naruto's left exploded, and a monstrous figure barreled into the room straight towards Balnazzar.

'ROSENROT, OH ROSENROT!'

The first thing Ramstein the Gorger did when it entered the room was smash the huge carving knife it carried into Balnazzar's chest. The blow cut straight through, nearly taking off the top half of Balnazzar's torso. The demon twisted to face the threat even as the abomination rammed into it full-run and then threw it to the ground, spraying the ground with black demonic blood and greenish drippings from Ramstein's gaping chest.

Balnazzar twisted, and got to its feet. Its grin had grown even more twisted. "If you are here, then he must be as well! Hah! It is finally come! The final battle!"

Ramstein did not seem to care, and now its eyes (which were different colors than Naruto remembered) had found Naruto and it seemed to be remembering just what he had done to it. Its mouth stretched into a cavernous grin from which blood and greenish ooze began to spill. It turned properly to face him, and its body began to crackle with electricity.

"Ohne Dich…" It muttered, almost tenderly, as it raised the carving knife and its third arm began to spin the hook and chain. "Kann ich nicht sein…."

Naruto leapt to the side as the knife tore into the wall where he had been standing. The lightning chain came a second later, whipping into the ground where he stood and shredding it apart, pelting Naruto with dust and stone as he backpedaled to avoid it. He felt oddly limber and awake, despite his near death experience. The fire in his stomach had settled once again, but he could still feel touches of it in his arms and legs, strengthening him. He didn't know how it was happening, but at the moment he was grateful—Ramstein pressed forwards, moving with the same surprising speed it had before, all three of its arms flailing their weapons, in by no means an expert fashion, but well enough that it kept Naruto backing up, searching desperately for a way to get out.

Balnazzar was not attacking any longer. It seemed excited, eager to meet the one that it had mentioned. It was muttering something but Naruto was neither able to hear nor given a chance to—Ramstein pressed Naruto all the way across the room, towards the wall. To avoid getting trapped against it, Naruto summoned a group of clones and sent them to their quick demise at Ramstein, as he kicked the ground and sped up.

'Kazaashi'

He moved immediately behind the demon, so fast that his vision tunneled for a moment, everything blurring but what he stared at. The abomination spun, blinking its big, different colored eyes and saw a handful of Narutos rushing towards the far end of the room. It lumbered after them, smacking its lips greedily, its tiny mind and vicious nature combining to form the idea that if there were more little pink things then it would get more satisfaction out of killing and eating them, and thus more revenge, than if there were only one. It sped up with this thought, heading straight for the first Naruto that it saw.

The one standing in front of the giant pale demon, who turned just as Ramstein came up with the force of a speeding locomotive. It was far too late.

The cleaver and sickle came down again, tearing into Balnazzar's white flesh, splitting his torso into four pieces. The demon roared, but before its dismembered body fell, the blood falling with it sprang together, connected the four pieces and made it whole again. Balnazzar reached up and grabbed Ramstein's head, tearing it off with a violent roar—more of annoyance than pain. But the abomination didn't fall, and continued its assault. It cut Balnazzar in two, until that arm was torn off as well, Balnazzar's claws and monstrous strength more than enough to pull through eight layers of leathery flesh. But still Ramstein attacked. Its head bit Balnazzar's hand, and its remaining arms hacked at the demon's body, slicing off entire limbs which grew back almost instantly, as Balnazzar systematically removed any way for the abomination to attack, which soon removed its ability to move, and finally, seeing that even its individual pieces were doing their best to dismember Balnazzar, the demon spewed flames all over the fat, gushing torso and stomped on it, popping the organs like rotten fruit; soon the abomination's limbs stopped moving, and its head finally dropped from Balnazzar's mutilated claw, whispering its final words—

'SCHONSTE STADT…'

Balnazzar growled and spread his wings, looking around the chamber, which stood on its last legs. He did not see the boy or the elf, nor even the silver fox. All of them had vanished, though their Forsaken friend remained lying in the corner, unconscious. What plan did they have next, he wondered? What would they possibly do to continue this battle? He couldn't be bothered with them any longer, not when he was about to arrive. Not when his greatest enemy would was coming to its doorstep! He no longer cared of spreading the Scarlet Crusade to foreign lands—he had a thousand years to do that—not when such a rare opportunity presented itself! Not when he could tip the tides of the everlasting war, and bring this city to its heels before him! Past and present would bow, when he destroyed the one who governed it!

He could feel it, the shivering cold! He was coming!

"Kira?"

The words were different from before. They were smoother, softer, more delicate; they were said with grace and a gentleness that Demetria was not capable of producing. No matter how good she was at shifting her own emotions from one extreme to the next, she could never match the pure emotions that flowed into that single word. Kira found herself not staring at Lady Demetria the Scarlet Oracle; it was an entirely different woman that stood before her, wearing Demetria's wounded skin, covered in her blood and the evil black tattoos that she had worn with pride. The woman could barely stand, and her eyes were wide and fixated on a single emotion, hovering on the edge of another.

It was clearly surprise that she first stared at Kira with, her mouth slightly open; but it shifted almost instantly to something else, something that appeared so foreign in Demetria's eyes that Kira couldn't believe she was seeing it. An emotion she clearly remembered—of the few things she did remember about this woman—and it became clear when a smile graced the woman's face; a smile that struck Kira harder than any blow or jutsu and rendered her suddenly powerless and afraid. Her body began to shake as she stared at that smile, which she had not seen in years, which she had dreamed of, which she had cherished above all other memories. The smile that without fault had always made her smile, that had always brought her from her tantrums as a child and had helped her weather the most painful events of her adolescence. The smile that from the moment that it had graced her face, Kira knew that it, above all things in her life, belonged to her and only her.

Her mother's smile.

But she couldn't speak now, facing this smile, which now graced the face of the woman whom she had regarded as a monster and an enemy. But her enemy was gone, vanished, perhaps dead—nothing remained of her on this woman's face. Demetria couldn't manipulate that emotion that she didn't feel, and which was now displayed on the woman's face in spades.

"Kira?" the woman said again, the woman who looked like her mother. "That's you…isn't it?"

Kira didn't answer. She couldn't move even her mouth.

"You've grown," the woman said, softly. "But your eyes are the same...that's you, isn't it?" Her voice wavered, and her smile fractured a little. "Isn't it?"

"Yes." Kira choked the words out, and began to shake.

"Do you recognize me?"

Kira felt like she might throw up. She could barely breath. But from the moment she had seen that smile, she had known, and she just couldn't believe it.

"M-mother?"

Her smile blossomed again, and Demi Wrynn took a shaking step forwards, seemingly unaware that her body was close to collapsing. She looked so honestly happy that Kira closed her eyes, unable to bear that smile any longer. What was going on? When she opened her eyes, the woman was standing in front of her, smiling down radiantly, without a trace of the pain she no doubt felt. There were tears in her eyes.

"Kira," she whispered. "My daughter…." She reached down, and embraced the limp girl shakily, and when Kira realized that she was so warm, and that the tears spilling onto her shoulder were real, she finally knew that she was not dreaming and that this was not some trick. Somehow her mother was alive. At that realization, she could no longer stand.

The two of them fell into a heap, embracing tightly and shaking with silent tears and mutterings. Kira didn't understand it, but she could feel her mother, she could touch her, hear her, feel her breath and tears and it wasn't a dream. Kylia was standing near the edge of the ruined wall that peered into the dark cell, and was crying too, and shaking from wanting to run over and embrace the woman herself. Her savior, the one she had adored and for whom she had protected Kira for all these years was suddenly there and it was no trick. She watched Demi's face, buried in Kira's neck, streaked with tears of joy and love.

Sakura watched as well, from behind Kylia, just barely able to stand. She didn't understand what was going on. Demetria was Kira's mother? Or was it the other way around? She had no idea how it had happened, how Demetria had left and Demi had come back, but she knew that the battle was over and so she sunk to the floor, unable to hold herself up. She managed to stay awake by watching Kira's small back, shaking against Demi and imagining her face, which must have been so happy. She wished Naruto could see it, too—he'd have loved to see a family reunited.

And that thought brought her back to their situation, and she knew that they didn't have much more time to rest.

Kira finally let go of her mother, staring into the woman's violet eyes and her beautiful face. It was exactly as she remembered it. Her mother had not changed, and was alive, and she wasn't alone anymore.

"You're back," she said, wiping her eyes. "You're back, right?"

Demi smiled Kira's special smile and nodded, and then looked past her, to Kylia. "Kylia, my dear Kylia. Come here. Come here. It's been so long." Kira moved slightly aside as Kylia walked over and then abandoned herself and flung her arms around Demi. The woman did not cry this time, but held the girl who had once seemed so strong in her arms and shushed her like a mother might a crying child.

"How?" Kira said aloud, as Kylia calmed and Demi now looked at her again with that smile. "Are you…?"

"Am I what?" Demi asked, softly. "I promised I'd return, didn't I, my little love?"

"But," Kira wanted to say, but stopped.

"No buts, Kira," said Demi. "I promised I'd come back to you and I have, haven't I?"

"Yes," Kira said. "Yes you have." But she couldn't resist again. "But how?"

"I don't understand," said Demi, softly. "I simply came back, because I promised it to you, and I could never break a promise to you, Kira. It was very dark, but it doesn't matter any more, does it? I'm back," she kissed Kira on the forehead. "And that's all that matters."

Kira hugged Demi again, this time along with Kylia. "You're back," she said. Then her eyes grew wide. "And hurt! We need to—"

"I'm fine," said Demi. "I do not hurt that much, but your friend looks like she might need it more. She cannot even stand, you see?"

Kira turned and saw Sakura, who was indeed struggling, and failing, to stand up. She got to her feet and reluctantly left her mother there, rushing over to where the pink-haired shinobi sat.

"Are you okay?"

Sakura seemed about to nod, but then smiled a little and shook her head. "I'd be lying if I said I was. But your mother probably needs the attention more, right? I hit her pretty hard."

Kira glanced back at the woman, who had managed to stand and was leaning on Kylia. "She said she was fine, and you can't even stand. Here, let me fix some of those bigger wounds." She bent down, laying a hand on Sakura's thigh where there was a ferocious burn caused by Demetria's shadow. Sakura seemed a little embarrassed, but didn't comment as Kira repaired the wound as best she could and moved onto the others. Kira didn't speak to Sakura at all as she worked, and tried not to look back at her mother. She finished repairing most of the severe wounds, not fully, as she knew she didn't have that much chakra left, and the stood up.

"I'm sorry too."

The words came out of nowhere, and left Sakura momentarily confused. "What?"

"You know," Kira said, softly. "I'm sorry too. I hope that we can be better friends from now on."

Sakura stared at her, and then stood shakily—she was exhausted, but without the burning pain in her legs and arms, she found it tolerable. Kira was still looking at her.

"Thanks," said Sakura. She smiled. "I hope so too."

"Who is your friend?" Demi asked from behind them. She was smiling at both of them, and Kylia was busy wiping the blood from Demi's forehead and cheeks with her sleeve, though Demi kept telling her that it was alright.

"Haruno Sakura," said Sakura, bowing slightly. "P-pleasure to meet you." She had not quite gripped what was going on. She looked so much like Demetria, and yet she acted so different, too. And with the way Kira was beaming at her, not openly, but with her eyes and a slight smile, Sakura was sure that this woman was no enemy.

But how was that possible?

Then, a tremor ran through the floor and in some distant part of the bastion, there was a mighty crash. It echoed loudly, and reminded Kira of where they were, and of the chill that continued to run through her body. "We should go," said Kira. "The Scourge are here. We have to find Naruto and get out of here."

"He's probably back where we left him," said Sakura, her fatigue clearing, and her eyes hardening, as the situation returned to them. "Along with the others…."

Kira nodded and turned to her mother. "Follow us. We're going to get out of here, mother, so just follow us, okay?"

Demi gave a soft nod. "Yes."

"Are you okay? I can heal you if you want, you look—"

"I am fine," said Demi, touching Kira on the shoulder. "Please don't worry so much. And I have Kylia with me, I'll be alright."

Kira nodded, but even as they left the room, she kept glancing back at Demi as if to make sure she was still there. It was as if she, like Sakura, felt something was wrong; felt that although this woman was clearly no enemy, she did not seem at all there either. She didn't seem whole.

They passed the room Kira and Kylia had been locked in, listening to the distant cries and moans of Scourge, and the explosions and battle-cries of Crusaders outside the walls and in, fighting to their deaths to destroy as many of the Scourge as they could. But something was off, and Kira could not figure out what.

"Lady Demi?"

Kylia sound frightened. Kira whipped around, her heart pumping. Demi was standing on her own, leaning against the wall and breathing deeply.

"You're not fine," said Kira, moving forwards. "You're not, I need to heal you."

"No," said Demi, softly. "You misunderstand. I realized that I had to do something first, before I can leave."

Naruto gasped, glancing at Hisari and Tsuwabuki as they crouched over the chamber in the room that Hisari had first emerged from. The demon was distracted and it gave them a few moments to plan their next move, although they had little to work with. The demon had so much chakra that nothing they threw at it would stop it from regenerating. Naruto was almost out, and he didn't think that the Kyuubi would offer its aid again so readily. Hisari was almost out too, and if she used any more of the power she didn't think she'd survive.

Yet, neither of them were willing to give up, at this point.

Naruto thought of everything that he knew about demons and jutsu and fighting but nothing came up. How did they kill something that couldn't die? Hisari offered no suggestions, but Boreagos' words kept coming back to both of them. Destroy it utterly? Naruto thought he'd be able to use the Rasengan in conjunction with the wind elemental chakra, but it hadn't worked. It had felt wrong, as if trying to force two opposing magnets together. But he had nothing else. That was his strongest and most versatile attack.

But then something else occurred to him. But he needed—

"We have to find Yamato-taichou!" Naruto said quickly.

Hisari glanced at him. "Why?"

"Cause he can help us beat this thing, we need—"

"Don't waste your time searching," a voice called from the door, or rather just beside it. Naruto and Hisari turned and saw Yamato propped up against it. He was pale and covered in sweat and blood, and looked like he had crawled for the past few hallways. "I'm here."

"What happened?" Naruto asked.

"A lot," the man said. "But it looks like you might need me for something else."

"Yeah," Naruto said, touching his chest, just over the necklace he had won from Tsunade. "We do."

The city was singing to him, or it seemed to. He could hear it through the broken walls, descending into the room like an exquisite aria. It had no words, just feelings that were sweet beyond life, and as haunting as death.

Balnazzar hated everything about this world, except this place. This city was like a world in itself, a miniature hell that reminded him of the chaos of the Nether, though less refined and more grounded—more real. The Nether was less a place and more a state; it was just mindless, endless chaos. It held everything inside in its sway; like a massive ocean dragging along everything with it in the constant ebb and flow of its tides. It was beautiful and monstrous, and he so missed it that it seemed sometimes a crime that he was here and not back there, that he had to stay and rot inside a pathetic human's body because of some witch and his own cowardly brother, and a master that he did not want to obey.

But at other points, when the city spoke to him and chanted its bloody history to him, or sang like a beautiful woman of its feelings and its contents, all begging for war and bloodshed, he felt glad that he was here.

He felt at home.

That was why he hated the bastion and all its contents. He hated the humans of the Scarlet Crusade because they lived and believed themselves safe behind the white marble walls, and believed this city to be cursed and despicable and wanted to destroy it. He sent them to their deaths every day for this, even as he gathered more and more, using them like toy soldiers to destroy the Scourge—why, he could even hear them now, casting themselves from the battlements and detonating themselves using their suicide jutsu in an effort to stem the tides of Scourge that were flooding into the bastion. That sound was the only sound they made that pleased Balnazzar. The other sound that pleased him was their constant affirmations of how righteous their cause was; knowing it was he who had swayed them from their paths towards the unforgivable sins they had committed.

He did not care that the bastion would fall, because when it did, he would come. He had been waiting for this chance for so long, a chance to face his enemy, the one that led the Scourge and whose voice joined in with the city's, always taunting him.

Whose voice was loudest now, against the singing city, whose voice Balnazzar would soon hear with his own ears, and whose face he would see with his own eyes.

Then, he glanced up.

From…above?

The ceiling exploded, and a thousand tons of stone fell as ropy vines as thick as tree trunks descended onto the demon, wrapping him tightly into a cocoon. He struggled to break free, but more kept coming, no matter how many he snapped or burnt. The vines weaved and dodged the falling ceiling as they constricted his arms and then his legs, binding them so hard that blood stopped flowing to them. Then he saw them.

The silver fox came first. She bounded towards him over the new floor, circling to the side and then lifting her tail up. The fur on it bristled, and then flew from her tail, becoming a hail of needle-sharp barbs that did not go for Balnazzar's torso, but rather his wings and limbs. They peppered his legs and arms and punched holes in his wings, and seemed to be covered in some sort of poison because his limbs began to burn and feel numb.

But he didn't give up so quickly. He let loose a stream of fire from mouth, setting the floor aflame, but it only chased off the fox. He twisted his head upwards and spat more flames onto the vines, and gathered his corruption swarm about him once more, and this time sent them out in a massive cloud around him. They circled in a violent tornado, driving another figure out of its hiding place and into Balnazzar's vision. He had not seen this one before—it had black hair and big brown eyes, but stank of familiar blood. He looked exhausted, and he did not move very fast, so when he came into view, Balnazzar blew a wide cone of purple fire, turning the ground into a sea of it. The human jumped flimsily above it, stretching out a hand from which a wooden pole extended all the way to the dangling vines that held Balnazzar, where it became soft and wrapped itself around, pulling the human up and out of danger.

Balnazzar fought some more, and began to struggle, merely wriggling his body so that the vines snapped from his weight, as feeling began to return to his arms and legs. He wouldn't die yet! Not yet.

But then something came from above, again. It slid down the vines and onto Balnazzar's back, grabbing one of his horns and then ducking down to stare straight into his face. Balnazzar saw blue eyes and blonde hair, and a fat grin that somehow mirrored his own when he had had held the same position with the boy. The boy had something glinting its hand, pulsing a faint green. It looked familiar, and when he recognized it he guided his swarm back towards him, but it was already too late—

The black haired man dropped from above, finishing his jutsu.

'Hokage Shiki Jijun Jutsu: Kakuan Nitten Suishu'

The boy drove the stone into Balnazzar's forehead and then leapt off of him. Six long poles erupted from the ground through the flames, their heads shaped like dragons. They clamped around his arms and legs and neck, and then coiled still further until they had bound him so hard that it felt as if he were in a vice. But it wasn't just them. He felt like he was being squeezed into a ball, into an impossibly tight space. He screamed and thrashed but he couldn't do anything. His world shrank and blackened and pain flooded through his body, and a whistling sound filled his ears. No! This couldn't happen!

He hadn't made this city bow to him, this wonderful, wonderful city!

Balnazzar's body shriveled, its huge body deflating like a drying grape. The buzzing grew fainter and fainter until it vanished completely, and the stifling presence of the demon went with it. The dragon-headed poles dragged Balnazzar from the vines, so that it stumbled and fell to the floor, no longer trying to free itself. Yamato's hand was out, with a symbol glowing on the palm—'seat'—and his breathing was becoming increasingly labored as he forced every bit of chakra the demon had into the glowing stone imbedded in its forehead. Every moment he grew closer to passing out, and his vision began to swim, and he nearly fell into the fiery ocean beneath him, before Naruto called out— "Hisari! Now!"

The blood elf came forwards now, striding slowly up to the fallen demon, her blade raised once more. She held it this time with its point down, and it shimmered with a golden light now that gave off a heat as warm as the afternoon sun.

This was the last thing Balnazzar ever saw.

Though his eyes were not on Hisari; they stared past her towards the ruined wall that Ramstein had emerged from, where the scarred, black and orange sky stared down at him, and he could just see the tops of the skeletal buildings of Stratholme. They were a truly breathtaking sight in his eyes, a beautiful sight, fit for such a wonderful city.

A city fit to be ruled by him.

The city he loved.

The blade descended.

'Exorcism'

It struck him in the forehead, right above the necklace. It sent a pulse of golden light through his sagging, frail body and there was a bright flash. Balnazzar's body gave a violent start before it shattered into black dust, the only thing left to be purged, all of its evil chakra now compressed into the stone that was made for it.

Hisari withdrew her sword, and then bent down and picked up the tiny, shimmering stone. It glowed with a haunting violet light for a few seconds, which soon faded. She turned and walked towards Naruto, and held it out to him. The boy took it, and grinned at her through his obvious pain.

"Hehe, thanks."

Hisari stared at him blankly for a second, as she wondered why he was smiling. When she saw the glow in his eyes, however, she felt a smile touch her face as well.

"Yes," she said. "You are welcome."

There was a loud creak, and the golden doors opened once more. The room grew cold, as cold as if Boreagos had returned, but the figure that entered was slight and small and covered in armor as black as a void, and rode atop a horse made of bones and wreathed in pale light.

Silently, the Baron watched them all.

"What?" said Kira. "Do what?"

Demi didn't answer, and began to turn around. Kira rushed up to her, touching her shoulder gently and gathering her into a hug. "Do what?" she asked again. She had never felt so frightened. "We can do it together."

"No," said Demi. "I must do it alone. I'll just be a minute."

"No you won't," said Kira, softly. She was crying again, and had begun to shake. "No you won't. You'll just leave again."

"Kira…" said Demi, laughing lightly. "Don't act like a child. You're an adult, now. I won't leave you."

"Yes you will," said Kira. She couldn't help it. She couldn't help being selfish and childish with this woman, her mother, whom she hadn't seen for more than ten years. She was too scared that she'd leave again.

"Didn't I say that I would never leave you again?" said Demi. "I promised you, and I won't. I only must do this one thing alone, and then I'll be free to be with you. Just this one thing. I must do it."

"Why?" Kira cried. " And do what? Why do you have to do it?"

"Because I made a mistake," Demi whispered. "I made a mistake that I must rectify and it can only be done by me and nobody else."

"I'll just follow you," Kira said.

"No." There was no tone for argument in Demi's voice, and it sounded a little frightened. "No you may not. I forbid you to follow me."

"But…"

"Kira, did you know what I wanted you to be, when you were all grown up?"

Kira shook her head.

"I wanted you to be free." She smiled a little. "I was bound by duty from the moment I was old enough to walk, bound to obey, bound to do things against my own wishes and beliefs; I was a slave to those I had called mother and father."

Kira's eyes grew wide, but Demi did not stop speaking.

"I was freed but that didn't matter much, for I was bound to another duty. I was gifted with great abilities—a great amount of chakra, a talent for healing jutsu, and intelligence enough to mix potions and elixirs to help people. I was bound by those abilities to helping others, to doing a duty that I had never wanted to do, but had to. Perhaps it was because I had spent most of my life as a slave, but I could not abandon that duty. I had no choice. That duty took me away from you, and it broke my heart every time I left." She looked at Kira with a smile tempered by grief and age. "I wanted you to be free of that."

Kira didn't answer. Demi stared into her eyes.

"Please know that, Kira. No matter what happens in your life, what choice you make, I want them to be your own and nobody else's. No matter what they are, I will accept you, and I will always love you." She embraced her daughter a final time, squeezing her tightly.

"Kylia," Demi said then. "You have been protecting Kira? Of your own will, and not mine?"

"Yes," said Kylia, her eyes dripping as well. "I love Lady Kira very much."

"Good," Demi said, and reached out to embrace the girl too. "But now you must both go. I still have something to do."

They reluctantly let go, and she shooed them back to Sakura, who stood in the middle of the hall, feeling out of place but looking unreadable. Demi gazed into her eyes for a moment, and then looked away quickly.

Sakura grit her teeth and turned, unable to look at the woman any longer.

"There is a passageway in the room behind the golden doors," said Demi, softly. "Beneath the Grand Crusader's throne, it will open if you press a plate near the bottom of the throne's left side. It will take you out of Stratholme; it was how the former bishops of the Holy Light escaped to become the Scarlet Crusade."

Kira swiftly turned, staring at the woman again.

"Mother?"

Demi didn't look at her, and stared at the floor.

Kira advanced one step. She suddenly didn't want to go. She couldn't leave her here. She didn't care—she didn't want to leave her mother there. She began to walk towards her, but felt a strong hand on her arm, holding her in place. She looked into Sakura's hard eyes.

"Let's go, Kira."

"No," said Kira. "I have to stay with her."

"No, you don't."

"Yes I do!" Kira cried, trying to pull free. Sakura held on, and began to drag her away from Demi, who watched the two girls silently.

"Stop it!" Kira shouted. She turned. "Mother, come with us, please! I won't want you to—Sakura let go, please! I have to bring her with us! Please!"

Sakura pulled Kira around to face her. "Believe her promise."

The words only took the fight from Kira for a moment, and in that moment she stared at Demi, whose eyes she could not see beneath the veil of liquid gold that was her hair. Then Demi spoke to her, over the ever growing sounds of battle and slaughter, and then over her own renewed cries of despair, as she fought Sakura to get free with all her strength, while Sakura used all of hers to stop herself from letting go of the young princess and to avoid the tortured gaze of the trembling Kylia, who trailed in their wake trying to believe with all her heart.

"I'm sorry."

The black rider watched them, unmoving and silent. His horse, bare of flesh but as alive as a normal one, pawed the ground and snorted, and shook its horned head a few times. Nothing else in the room moved.

Naruto couldn't believe it. Just after they had expected to win, just after they had thought it was all over, this had to appear. He could feel the rider's chakra, immense and as rotten as a week-old corpse. He felt exhausted, and needles of despair began to prick his stomach and back, as he realized that this was probably it. He had no strength left, and even the demon sealed in his stomach had gone quiet, its fire extinguished with the Dreadlord's life. Both Hisari and Yamato could barely stand and not even Myrdraxxis could move. If the rider chose to attack, then it would be over too quickly.

He clenched his fists, furious at the situation and at his own weakness. Why did this have to happen?

He stared at the rider.

The rider stared back.

The doors burst open again, and Fen entered the room, dragging Sai behind him. The Forsaken dropped the weakened shinobi almost immediately and let out a yelp, backing up when he saw the rider in front of him. The rider acknowledged his presence with a simple turn of the head, which lasted for but a moment, and then it turned back to stare towards Naruto and Hisari. But it didn't look at them; it stared at the pile of dust that had once been Balnazzar. The skeletal horse whinnied, and licked its mouth with a rotting tongue.

The rider watched the dust, and it then uttered a low laugh that passed like a swooping shadow over the room. Then the rider turned his horse, and cantered past Fenritt and Sai, and was gone.

Naruto dropped to his knees, utterly exhausted, but at the same time so relieved that he was shivering. Tsuwabuki padded up to him, and let him lean on her back, which he did gratefully.

"Let's," said Hisari, in much the same way that Naruto felt, "get out of here."

"What the hell happened to you, Myr'? You look worse than after that time I let you alone with those two banshees in the Trade Quarter," Fen muttered, gripping the other Forsaken's arm tightly and pulling him to his feet and letting him lean on his shoulder.

"Shut up," Myrdraxxis said.

"Ah," said Sai, on Fen's right shoulder. "Naruto-kun, are you alright?"

Naruto got shakily to his feet, but he was smiling again. "Y-yeah," he called. "You?"

"I cannot stand up, and I may have lost more chakra than is healthy, and I think I have to go to the bathroom, and—"

"Just say 'fine'!" Naruto shouted.

"Fine!"

Yamato snorted, and then considered their options. The hole made by Ramstein seemed the best way to get out, but that still led them back into the city, and if they encountered any Scourge—which they likely would—they would be in trouble.

"Ah!" Naruto suddenly shouted, stumbling towards the door. "Sakura-chan! Kira-chan! We have to go after them!" He looked at Tsuwabuki. "Let's go, we have to—" He suddenly stopped, and looked towards the door. Tsuwabuki uttered a soft bark as the doors creaked open once again, and three girls entered. Naruto's face split into one of joy.

"Sakura-chan!" he cried. "Kira-chan! You're ok—" He stopped, and saw from the way they walked, that they were not okay. He started to hurry over, looking worried. Kira shuffled a little ahead of Sakura and Kylia, her face hidden by her golden hair.

"Kira-chan?" Naruto whispered to her, when he arrived. She didn't answer. He bent down and peered into her face, and his eyes widened, aghast at the look on her face. "What happened?" He asked. "What's wrong?"

She didn't answer, and instead fell forwards, wrapping her arms around him. He went stiff for a moment, but accepted the hug, realizing that she needed it. He looked over her shoulder at Sakura, whose gaze went down, as if in shame, when their eyes met. She didn't say anything for a while, letting Kira continue to embrace Naruto. When the princess finally pulled away, Sakura told them about the passageway, which Fen revealed a moment later. Kylia took Kira by the hand and led her towards the passage, tremulously, and Sakura walked slightly past Naruto, touching him on the shoulder, before grabbing Kira's hand too.

"Can't forget this," said Fen, lifting the Grand Crusader's head, which lay at the foot of the blood-soaked throne. His attempt at humor went largely unnoticed, so he stayed quiet as they left the great chamber, and descended into a cool, clear-smelling darkness, which would lead them all the way out of Stratholme and into the mountains beyond.

The Baron rode his horse down a hallway in the bastion, hearing his master's people moaning in victory over the Scarlet Crusaders. The city was singing to him a ballad of victory—his victory. He felt it too; the life had disappeared from the city, joining the past chaos. The city yet warred, but it was a war now gone, now a memory and a part of the history of this wonderful city. And he could hear his master shouting his praise, and his dead enemy roaring in torment, and it made him conjure the vaguest facsimile of a smile, covered by the dark mask he wore over his mouth and nose. They were all such wonderful sounds; and he had to thank them, the ones who had made this possible. The city was now complete, because of them.

He hoped they would return someday, so that he might thank them again by making them a part of this city's history.

The hallway was deserted and untouched by the citizens, but at the end of it he spotted something. It was a corpse, lying propped against the wall.

It was beautiful.

He stared at the corpse, as he drew back on the reins of his horse, stopping next to it. He looked at it but did not move towards it—he didn't want to disturb its perfection. It was the most beautiful corpse he had ever seen: a beautiful woman, cloaked in blood, pale and stiff with hair like gold. Her head was tilted down, so he could not see her face, but he could imagine it wreathed in despair, and the image was too tempting. He stepped down from Deathcharger and bent over the woman's face.

Then he drew back, repulsed.

He returned to his horse. The smell of the corpse, and the unearthly glow of its skin, disgusted him suddenly. It did not smell like death, not like a corpse should, and it did not seem lifeless at all. With that look on its face, too, it did not fit with the past of this place; it did not haunt or despair. He pointed a finger at the corpse, as if challenging it, and then departed. The citizens would come soon, and the corpse would be no more, if they could touch it. If not, there was all the time in the world for it to rest there.

He left it there, and rode away, knowing that his master's disciples would soon come; they were due to arrive any day, after they had completed their mission here.

At that very moment, as she walked down the dark, dry tunnel, Kira felt something grace her cheek—a feathery touch, as if from the wind, which could not blow in this place. The smell of roses came with it, soft and distant, and Kira suddenly felt a weight off her chest and a warm feeling flood her.

She suddenly felt like she had to smile, like she used to. The sadness had gone as it always had.

'I'll never leave you again.'

Kira then began to cry, sinking to the floor and heaving great sobs; and even as the roses slowly faded, the smile did not.

It's finally over, that was a long one, wasn't it? 50 or so pages in Word, all together. Damn! Longest chapter I've ever written.

So how'd you guys enjoy it? Although I apologize for the wait, it was worth it in the end, I hope? It was meant to tug at a few heartstrings by the end—I just hope I did it well enough.

This is the end of the big arc, and we'll quickly get into the next one, which is more of a composite of mini-arcs than one big one. It'll feature some enemies you know and love, some enemies you don't know that well at all, and a lot of action, drama, comedy and all that stuff. It'll also feature death. I'll get started on that as soon as I can, but don't expect a long chapter; at least, don't expect another fifty pager for a long while. This was special. I just wrote, and a lot came out, but I hope it was all interesting for you. I particularly love the last scene, which I tried to make deliberately ambiguous so you all can have your interpretations of Demi/Demetria, who to date is my favorite OC, even more than Captain Blood (I didn't think it was possible either). Do you think she was a strong-willed character, or a weak-willed? Depending on your view of the last scene, I suppose.

I hope she wasn't too much of a Mary Sue, but she is going to have a big impact on the later story. I don't think she was that over-powered…

For those hoping to have The Baron be an enemy, sorry about that as well. I knew from the moment I began this arc that though he would be featured, he probably wouldn't be killed. Not yet anyways. Balnazzar was supposed to die, and he may have an effect on what happens next as well. Wonder how Sylvanas will react when she realizes her favorite servant isn't as loyal as she thought?

Well, that's it for now. Hope you guys enjoyed it as much as I, and see you in a week or two.

General Grievous

Translations for Ramstein:

Rosenrot, Oh Rosenrot-- Rose-red, oh rose-red

Ohne Diche...Kann ich nicht sein--- Without You...I cannot be.

Schonste Stadt-- Beautiful City...

(And from my brother, who so graciously was able to proofread)--

Grr. Arr. In a completely unrelated note, I urge all of you to buy the Serenity Collector's Edition when it comes out this August. If you don't know what Firefly is, you should look into it.

-N.