A/N: Heeeelllooooooo there, thanks for your reviews and suchlike. I'm back! From spending time with mah man...NOT ALL OF IT WAS SEX, JKA, I know what you were getting at in your message ;) I live with my parents, y'know...Anyway. Chapter 3 with a seemingly random event. Read, review, no Ch.4. ~ Mika

Mar damn it, where am I?

Either the city had changed in the two years of Jak's imprisonment, or the Dark Eco in his system had also affected his memory, he was just getting old or all of the above.

"Left here," Daxter suddenly spoke up as Jak passed an alley. He skidded to a halt in surprise.

"You can remember this stuff?"

"Yeah, course. I didn't spend the last two years runnin' 'round this place without pickin' up a few memory points...or memories." Daxter smirked as private memories flooded back before him. Jak raised his eyebrows, taking the advised left as he allowed a small smile to cross his face. Shaking his head, he ventured onwards, wishing there was some sort of light so he could at least see where he was –

"Ay, Daxter!" a voice said, followed by a flood of light from a side door which had obviously just opened.

"Ah, Johann! How ya doin', buddy?" the ottsel greeted cheerfully enough, but his tone belied an undercurrent of nervousness. The man he addressed as 'Johann' spoke with a foreign accent.

"Daxterrh...You owe me money, yes?"

"Hey, Jo, bud, I said I'll get it to ya soon!"

"Ay, Daxter, but that was over a year and a half ago!" The silhouette of the man put his hands on his hips. "I am running into debt and I have need of the moneys right now."

"Johann, Johann." Daxter showed his palms to the stranger, attempting to pacify him. "Buddy. I'm sorry for your trouble, but I can't help you right this minute. I gotta get this guy back home, 'kay? Jak, run!" he hissed to the blonde man, who happily began to comply, but was soon stopped by the barrel of a large gun.

"Oh no, Daxter. You and your owner aren't going anywhere!"

"Hey! He's not my owner! If anything I own him! Jak, kill!"

He was met with a scathing look.

Daxter turned his attention back to the large Dutch/Italian. "Johann, let's be reasonable...we can talk..."

"De time for talking is over, rat!" Johann hissed. Two muscled goons flanked either side of the foreigner and he barked an order at them.

"Uhh, Jak...I think we better run?" Daxter's voice rose so high in pitch he was almost shrieking. Jak, however, felt the familiar raring-for-a-fight feeling pooling in his gut like a refreshing drink landing.

"Nuh uh, Dax. I'm not running this time." With a smirk, Jak spin-kicked a muscled goon's shin, sending him flying to the floor. Rounding on the other creature, he sent a fist flying into its stomach, causing it to double over in agony. Jak was just about to organise a meeting between his foot and the goon's nose when suddenly, a roar ripped from his throat as his appearance changed completely, eyes blackening, skin and hair a strange ash-purple colour. Dark claws sprouted from his fingertips, bursting through his skin.

And a new desire came over him; the desire to kill.

He never remembered what happened during the next five or ten minutes...however long that he was..."like this", as he would later call it. All he knew is that those goons were big silhouetted lumps of still muscle and black blood pooling from their bodies.

And his hands were covered in it.

"Shit!" he hissed as he heard voices growing in a crescendo down the alleyway.

"Uh, Jak?" Daxter said nervously. "I think now is the time to run – "

Without another word, Jak took off faster than his legs could carry him. As Daxter inexplicably yelled directions in his long ears, he followed them, his instinct reacting as he flew. This feels familiar, he thought. Why does it feel so familiar?

He didn't have long to wonder, though, as Daxter suddenly yelled for him to "STOOOOOOOPPPPPP!". Skidding to a halt, his breathing was heavy, his heartbeat so fast he could barely feel it. Something throbbed in his head, causing waves of pain to spread through it – no doubt the effects of...well, whatever had just happened to him.

"Shit!" he breathed, long and desperate, doubling over to regain his breath. He had his eyes shut, so he didn't notice where he was. A freezing cold breeze caressed his face lazily.

"Hey! What you did back there?" Daxter piped up.

"Mmmm?" Jak grunted.

"That was cool. Do it again."

"Shi..." Jak shook his head. "I...Daxter...it must have been s-something he did. I...can't control it!" He squeezed his eyes shut, his breathing slower now, more controlled – which was more than he could say for his Dark side. "It was the Dark Eco..."

"Yeah, I thought it was sumthin' like that," Daxter agreed. "Buddy, straighten up. Take a deep breath...and look where you are."

It was rare that Daxter was listened to by anyone, but for the millionth time that night, Jak did as his furry best friend said. He blinked a few times to regain control of his vision before looking around. Clear skies. Open lawns. High walls, structuring everything. Statues of Mar.

Several flights of stairs.

Holy shit, I'm home.

"I'm home?" he breathed, not trusting his own mind.

"Yeah, buddy." Daxter replied, a grin crossing his face. "You're home free."

For the first time in two years, the tortured young man let a cleansing sigh ripple through him as a great weight was lifted off his shoulders.

I'm home...

He turned to head into the Stadium, heading towards the garages. He looked at the clock hanging along the walls. Nine a.m.

She'd be there. He knew it.

Sono l'eroe di questa storia, non ho bisogno di essere salvato.