The first half of the chapter had some major editing. It's much better now. And longer, too.

Also, you must revisit Purple Armadillo's deviant art account (the link to it can be found in her profile, and the link to her profile can be found on the review page). The picture she did of the silos out in the Wasteland has been colored using watercolors, and it looks really nice. Thanks much for the fan art, Purple Armadillo!

Chapter 26: Good News and Bad

The ranks of the monsters continued to flow through the damaged city wall like a stream of black, and Ashelin had no choice but to send Samos and Keira back out again to heal the injured (despite the Green Sage's complaints to the inclusion of the latter) after having called them back when the new wave of creatures arrived, to try to slow the thinning ranks of soldiers. A slow and steady approach would no longer work, but at this point, everything they did seemed to be an effort in futility. Soldiers, whether of the Freedom League or of the Wasteland, were no longer cutting it. Simple flesh and bone couldn't stop so many monsters. They needed a bit more on their side to even the score.

And that was exactly what Torn was planning to do. During the time of Baron Praxis, countless weapons of all shapes and sizes had been installed throughout the city, including various turrets and motion-sensing turbo cannons. Having such things in a city may not raise any red flags. After all, a city needed protection. But, to those who thought further into it, having so many weapons inside a city seemed a bit strange. They certainly were of no use against the Metal Heads that stalked outside the city walls, where the weapons would have been more effective.

In a sick twist, these weapons were actually meant to turn against the people. They could shoot down individuals who had committed crimes against the Baron, and they could be used to crush any rebellion. Luckily, no large-scale revolution had occurred. For the people's sake. It was Torn's knowledge of these hidden weapons that kept the Underground safe from them (all things considered), or else they may all have been wiped out before they could have accomplished their goals.

Since the Baron had been removed from power and Ashelin had taken charge, some of the first things she did included deactivating the weapons meant to oppress the people. Haven City belonged to its citizens, not to its ruler, and they shouldn't have to live in fear of their own city turning on them and shooting them down like animals that got loose from a zoo. The day Ashelin had become Governess, she vowed that those weapons would never be used again. Right now, however, that promise had to be taken back, but this time these weapons would be used to keep the people safe, not to harm them. But, with Wastelanders in the city and the Baron's old weapons back online, Torn only hoped the people didn't start to doubt the city's loyalty to them. It would be easy enough to fear things were falling apart (in all honesty, they were), the city reverting back to its old ways. But, with the presence of an unstoppable enemy army within the walls of the city, what choice did they have? The Baron's murder machines would have to be put to use again.

As they had no intention of using these weapons again, there was no convenient way of switching them back on. They simply remained hidden beneath the city streets, while civilians (currently, soldiers) walked over them, having forgotten long ago what rested beneath their feet. And now Torn was heading in the direction of the last known controls for the machines. Such an important thing would be kept in a most protected location. Not even the Power Station, which controlled nearly every other aspect of the city, including the Eco Grid and even its shield walls, had access to the city's hidden weapons.

Torn remembered that one location of the controls was the palace, which was long gone. Another was the Krimzon Guard Fortress, now replaced by the Freedom League Fortress, and the controls there had been removed. Another location may still be around, a locked room he believed to be somewhere in the Industrial Section. This particular location had been left alone, as it was such an unknown spot that no one would ever think to tamper with it. Just a random door in a wall that no one knew was there, even if they walked by it everyday. Nothing distinguished it from anything else, and so no one took the time to wonder about its purpose.

With a vague memory of where the room resided, Torn fought his way through the hordes of monsters occupying the Slums, alongside soldiers of Haven City and the Wasteland. The Slums never did have much luck, even on good days. It always looked like a war and a tornado had ripped through it, and as much as Ashelin had tried to fix it up after her instatement as Governess, the place remained as ramshackle as ever. And now, with all the current activity, it was reverting beyond that.

After shooting at one monster that was coming his way, only to watch as a Wastelander finished it off (couldn't they see that one was his?), he jogged through a gap in the action to find himself in the Industrial Section. Now where was that door? Even if he had some idea of where it may be, finding it in the midst of all this chaos wouldn't be easy. He made his way in the general location of where he thought he had last seen it, with nothing but unclear memories to guide him, aiding in the fight when necessary, though much of this he bypassed, as his current task was of even more importance, as little as he liked passing by those in trouble and letting them face danger alone.

He scanned the lower walls of the buildings, much of them hidden in the shadows of the walkways above, and spotted an unmarked door that stood out simply in the way that it didn't stand out from its surroundings. That should be it. He spun around and sidestepped as a monster attempted to pounce on the seemingly distracted man. It swiped at him with jagged claws, and he responded with several shots to the head. It screamed and fell to the ground, and he continued towards the door as it squirmed and twitched.

Once he reached it, he entered the pass code that Ashelin had given him in the panel nearby, the only thing that might distinguish this door from others, though it wasn't the only door in the city that required a code to open it. With the Governess and himself being the only people that knew of the existence and the general location of the room, and Ashelin being the only one in possession of the code that unlocked it, the controls that could activate the deadly weapons under the city streets were effectively unreachable.

Glancing over his shoulder to make sure nothing else was trying to sneak up on him, he turned back and grabbed hold of the handle. He attempted to open the door, but it hardly budged, having not been opened in several years, hinges rusted from the humidity in the air that came as a result of living right by the ocean. With another, harder tug, the door screeched open, and he went inside, disturbing a layer of dust that had settled on the floor. He coughed and covered his mouth with one arm as he flicked on a light, causing a single light bulb hanging from the ceiling to flicker before staying steady.

It was a small room, its sole purpose meant for housing the weapons' controls in a secure location, safe from anyone that may, in the Baron's case, turn them off, and in their case, turn them back on. He closed the door and headed towards the small box on the back wall, wiping a hand over his face when he walked through a spider web he hadn't noticed.

He entered another code in the pad next to the box to unlock it, then, worked to pry open the box's cover without touching the web that slanted across it and the wall beside it. If he could handle strange monsters overrunning the city, he could certainly handle spiders. Nevertheless, when the web's occupant made itself known by running out of hiding and onto Torn's hand, he couldn't help but gasp in surprise as he smashed it with his other hand, wiping the spider's remains on his pants. He looked around, more out of instinct than anything, forgetting for a moment that he was the only one in the room, to make sure no one had seen the display that could be mistaken as fear. Because it wasn't. He just couldn't know if it was poisonous or not.

With a second effort, he pulled the cover loose to reveal a grid of buttons. Before he could enter anything, he still needed one last code. Now what was it again? He entered the first thing that came to mind, and the small screen returned a message informing him that he was incorrect. After insisting that he would remember all of Ashelin's codes just fine, he couldn't contact her now and ask for it. Especially since she was certain he would forget them. He tried again, but with no more success than last time. Darn it! He made several more attempts, until the screen threatened that it would lock him out if he failed again.

Grumbling to himself, Torn grabbed his radio, running a thumb over the buttons on its surface as he wondered if perhaps he would have more luck now that there was more pressure to get it right, before calling Ashelin. Static, a click, and then her voice was heard, "Yes, did you find it?"

"Yeah, it's right here." Now how could he find out the code without asking her for it?

There was a pause before she spoke again. "And are you going to activate it?"

"I'm just about to."

Maybe it was…no, he already tried that one. Why did there have to be so many different pass codes for everything!

After yet more silence, she asked, "Is there a problem?"

He thought this over. Yes, there were two problems, and he was currently unable to find any possible way of avoiding both.

Before he could answer, she said, "Did you forget the last code?"

"No," was his automatic answer, then he said, "I just forgot one digit." That could be the truth. Considering he didn't know which digits were wrong, it very well could only be one.

"The pass code is…are you ready? Because I don't want you forgetting again."

"Yeah, yeah, I'm ready." This is why he didn't like to ask her things!

She began to give him the code, and he entered it in as she spoke. Once complete, he said, "Yep, that's pretty much what I thought. I'm arming it now."

"Mm-hmm." He didn't know what that was in response to. "And Torn…be careful out there."

And then her end of the radio clicked, and she was gone. Like he needed the warning. He began to enter the commands to put the cannons back online, while Ashelin was no doubt in the middle of her own task of warning the soldiers through their radios to evacuate the areas around the old cannons (and to tell the Wastelanders to do the same). Normally, the cannons were set to target anything but the KG, but with no KG around anymore, everyone was fair game, and it wouldn't be very helpful if the cannons simply killed everyone, friend and foe alike. But, without this same warning, those monsters were in for the surprise of their lives. This he had to see.

He completed the necessary sequence of commands and rushed to the door when he heard a muffled clank from outside that he recognized as the sound of a cannon, long sealed away beneath the streets, rising again from its resting place. Swinging the door open, he watched the machine across the street from him, rotating side to side as it attempted to pick out which of the objects moving about it would be its first victim, as soldiers and Wastelanders scrambled to escape its fury. Baffled by the sudden change in their opponents' behavior, the creatures attempted to give chase, but too slow were they in their confusion, and too oblivious to their precarious situation, they weren't expecting the sudden volley of gunfire as the cannon targeted and fired upon each and every one of them in turn. Confusion became panic, and the monsters either attempted to flee or pounce upon their new assailant, only to find themselves biting down upon unyielding steel. It didn't take long for the cannon to clear out a wide radius around it. Torn smirked. For the first time ever, those weapons were finally being put to good use.

A week went by, and Jak didn't see or hear any sign of Daxter. Ever since his best friend had been chased off by Maia, he had a sickness in his stomach, an uncomfortable knot that kept tightening each day that went by. He didn't want to even think about the horrible things she might do to him if she ever managed to catch him. Maybe he was just laying low for a while. He was fine. He had to be.

You've always got me.

Rage built up in Jak at his dark side's constant need to bother him, but before it could get too far, he attempted some deep breathing to calm himself. Don't get mad. That's exactly what it wants.

I'll get you out of here.

Daxter would get him out of here. Daxter had saved him from the Baron's prison, and he would save him again. If he didn't get out on his own first. Eventually Maia would slip up. She would let her guard down, she had to, and he would make his move.

Jak sat cross-legged in the corner of his cell, hands clutching his legs as much from anxiety as to give him pain to focus on instead of Dark Jak's chatter. It never shut up anymore! Why couldn't it ever leave him in peace?

Clicking. That horrible clicking again, echoing down the hall, coming for him. He hated that sound. He hated it more than any other. Finding himself wide-eyed, he forced his expression into one more composed. Deep breaths.

A softer click, of the door being unlocked, and then it was opening with a rusted squeal. Or more likely, the squeal of hinges filled with sand. Did they always squeak so much? It was like a pained scream the door made, as if it, too, dreaded what was coming.

He looked up to see Maia standing before him, but her grin was not the same one he had seen every time prior. No, this one was simply…worse.

"And how is our guest this morning? You're up early," Maia said.

Jak crossed his arms, leaning further back against the wall. "So is this how you always do it?"

She moved father into the room, leaving the door open. If she thought he was going to bolt like a scared animal, she was dead wrong. He wasn't stupid. He knew she'd zap him before he even made it halfway to the door.

"How I always do what?"

"It seems the only way men can stand to be near you is if they're related to you or if they're locked in a room. Has that always been the only way you could get a guy to look at you?"

That wiped the awful grin off her face. Once again, she was electrocuting him, with more power than usual. Jak tried to keep from crying out, while his dark side laughed with maniacal glee. Why can't you just leave me alone in my misery?

She released him, and he only had a moment to recover before she was grabbing him by the collar and pulling him to his feet, face so close their noses nearly touched. "You will learn to show me respect. The sooner you break, the easier it'll be for you."

"I never did like doing things the easy way." She stunk like Dark Eco. Underneath the fragrant shampoo, she still stuck, just the same. "And did anyone ever tell you you smell?"

That did it. Her eyes shot open, and her face paled, even more than normal. Uh-oh. He stared into those red eyes. There was nothing else he could do. Oh, why did he have to be so weak in his normal body? No, that doesn't mean I'm letting you out!

Did I say anything this time?

Before he could react, she punched him in the mouth, and he tasted blood. He wiped his hand over a split lip, leaving a trail of red on his glove. Everyone thought they could push him around. Even his dark side. With a growl, he hit her right back, sending her reeling backwards in surprise.

"You insolent boy! How dare—"

"You're never going to break me! Not ever!" He came at her and grabbed her by the arms, propelling them both across the room, and slammed her against the wall. He knew she'd let her guard down. He knew it! That arrogant witch! He saw his hands starting to turn white, his nails beginning to grow.

"That's it, let it out!" she said, the smile returning to her face. "You don't like being powerless, so here's your chance."

"No, I won't let myself become like you." His nails started to recede, and he continued, his voice hoarse from the effort it took to call back his dark side, "I am not a monster."

She laughed. "Neither am I. You think this is the face of a monster?" She ran the back of her hand down her cheek.

"That's exactly the face of a monster."

"Oh, how blind you are. If you'd just let it out, you'd know how wonderful all that power feels."

That open doorway was so close. But, he'd never get very far. He never world.

"So are you going to let me go or no? With us standing so close, I'm starting to expect a kiss."

Jak released his grip on her. How could she be smiling again? And it was that smile again. What was she hiding?

"Well, this was an interesting visit, to say the least. You really must let me see more of your other side." She sauntered towards the doorway, hands on her hips.

"So that's it. You come here, push me around, then, leave. How long is this going to continue?"

Maia stopped. "Until I get bored." She turned her head halfway. "And my dear brother has his own purposes for you, but he's been busy getting our robot ready to incinerate your precious, little city." She spun on her heel to face him again, hand to her chin, another to her elbow. "Oh, yes, I forgot to tell you something."

He turned and headed back to his corner. He couldn't stand that smile. "Not interested."

"Oh, but you should be. It's about your friend."

He stopped, and his stance grew stiff. What did she do to him?

"I didn't catch him right away. It took a few days, but I finally cornered him. Such a scared rat—"

"Just get on with it!"

"Okay, if you're so desperate to hear the news, though I was trying to be tactful. He's dead. The rat's been skinned."

"I don't believe you." No. Not Daxter.

"You can believe whatever you want, but it's true."

"You're lying."

She laughed. He'd kill her! "I most certainly am not. I am more than capable of—"

He spun around. "I don't believe you!"

"Don't, then."

"Prove it!

"I—"

"Prove it!" Jak came up to her, and she just stared at him, unfazed, as he yelled in her face. "Prove it! Right now!"

"Oh, how morbid you are, wanting to see the body of your dear friend, not that there's really anything left to speak of at this point anyway."

He grabbed her by the arms and shook her, as if to shake off the smile that refused to leave her face. He would kill her, whatever it took! He didn't care!

About time…

"You're going to let me see your other side again, after all, are you?" That awful smile widened. "You're going to become just like us. How wonderful."

No. Never. His grip loosened, and she stepped back out of it. He was pathetic. Useless. He didn't even see her leave, just heard the door close, and he sank to the floor. Daxter. She had to be lying. Had to be. He couldn't be… No.

He pulled his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around his legs, resting the side of his face on his knees. It couldn't be true. Daxter would come, or… He could just let Dark Jak free, just for a short while, couldn't he? Just until he got out. And found his buddy, if there was one left to find. There was. She had to be lying, that… He sighed. He didn't think he could change right now anyway, even if he wanted to, the rage he felt earlier that might have fed his transformation now replaced by a mere emptiness.

Jak was left to his own thoughts the rest of the day, the only mercy Maia showed him. He could feel dry blood on his lip, and his jaw ached from where she had hit him. And his eyes burned. What had come over him lately? He shouldn't be so helpless. He had saved the world on more than one occasion, but now he was held here by a simple wooden door. He was sick of this. They couldn't keep him here much longer. He stared at the door. He hated that door. He hated Maia. And the sound of her shoes. And Gol, too! He was too much of a wuss to face him! He hated everything! He was getting free, and he would make them pay! He would kill them! He would kill them both and make certain they were dead this time!

These things continued to occupy Jak's mind, depriving him of sleep as they kept him up through a night that had taken forever to arrive, merging with the thoughts of Dark Jak. For once, they were on the same page, and he didn't care. It didn't matter. It just didn't matter anymore.

So what do you think? Is Maia lying or is there truth to her words? (Either way, she's wicked.) Please review.