The last part of Chapter 11: Old friend. Ever had the privilege of having a hybrid demon as your friend? One that wants to be a part of you and has some kick-ass abilities to protect and rid you of all that stands in your way? And all he asks, is that you give a little of yourself to him. Fox, is in that situation now. Will he take the offered deal?

Chapter 11-3: Old friend: A pact with my devil

Hours have passed since Fox fell asleep under the moonlight. After enjoying a couple of beers, the vulpine could finally enjoy some rest. Normally, hunger, sleep and such other states are not present in Nether in order to keep the subject in containment and well fed without any change of escaping by external feeding. Once the subject leaves Nether, all states will kick in as hard as the time they were not available. And Fox has been here for almost 4 days. Délarbé is still awake however. He sniggers at the sight of Fox softly snoring. A muscle spasm once in a while shows he's having the most vivid dream ever. Délarbé has no intent to disrupt his new friend's well deserved rest.

'Sigh... it seems I have nothing more to bore him with.' He snaps his fingers as an acoustic guitar appears in his paws. He tunes it up to see if it's false toned. He strikes the strings once and adjusts it to perfection.

'Yup. Here we go.'

Always a fan of the emotional heavy and slower songs, he plays the rhythm of Johnny Cash's version of "I see a darkness." If he could, he would play that tune all day, every day. Simply because it reminds him of the long time struggle he needs to cope with along his lifetime. The struggle of having to deal with Fox's inner evil.

And because that evil has been in Fox ever since his birth, Délarbé knows all. From the death of Fox's mother when he was only 2. The death of his father at the age of just 11. His attendance at the Cornerian Flight Academy at just 16. The facing of Andross was a big pill to swallow. And then the sighting of his father, leading him out.

His father, who meant so much to him, was nothing more than dirt that should have been thrown in the trash can along with that punk he chopped a fire axe in.

After that, love came in the picture. He met Krystal on Sauria at Krazoa Palace, imprisoned in, ironically, a crystal. He freed her, saved her from falling into a bottomless pit. He accepted her as one of his own: a Starfox member. Teaching her all the tweaks of being a mercenary-for-hire in an Arwing. But he also tried to tackle her way of living. Namely because of the Head-and-Core mythology. He figured sword-fighting might be an interesting choice.

'The head over-analyses the many possibilities too much. Let the core do all the work and the head will follow afterwards.' he always said to Krystal. Usually, that line was followed by a practice round. 9 times out of 10, Fox would win as Krystal couldn't keep her head with it: the exact problem. He would, duck, turn 180 degrees into Krystal's stomach and give a nasty right elbow in her side. Of course, that would he give if it was a real fight. He stops just an inch before actually hitting her.

Krystal knew that if Fox were to continue, she would cringe and Fox would turn another 180 degrees with his sword swinging with him in the momentum that would defiantly chop her head off. All she had to do, was take distance, hold either one of her knees up to counteract Fox's screwing in and slash right into Fox's right side, dissolving his kidney's.

Dissolving may sound exaggerated, but that's how Fox himself explained it. Krystal seemed to learn more day by day, but when it came to Fox's finishing move, her head over-analyzed it and that caused her to lose. Fox promised her that he would train with her until she got it right. Not an insult to her abilities, not by a long-shot, but more like a motivation.

But look where all that effort lead to…

*Writer interruption*

Yeah, I know. Another one. Sorry I have my ways of writing. Haters gonna hate! Anyway, if you hate reading song lyrics or just wanna continue with the story, skip it. Otherwise, enjoy reading it.

*Writer interruption*

(Well, you're my friend, and can you see?
Many times, we've been out drinking;
Many times we shared our thoughts.
But did you ever, ever notice, the kind of thoughts I got?
Well, you know I have a love; a love for everyone I know.
And you know I have a drive, to live I won't let go.
But can you see its opposition, comes rising up sometimes?
That its dreadful imposition, comes blacking in my mind?

And then I see a darkness,
And then I see a darkness,
And then I see a darkness,
And then I see a darkness.
Did you know how much I love you?
Its a hope that somehow you,
Can save me from this darkness.

Well, I hope that someday buddy
We have peace in our lives;
Together or apart,
Alone or with our wives,
And we can stop our whoring,
And pull the smiles inside,
And light it up forever,
And never go to sleep.
My best unbeaten brother,
This isn't all I see.

Oh no, I see a darkness.
Oh no, I see a darkness.
Oh no, I see a darkness.
Oh no, I see a darkness.
Did you know how much I love you?
Its a hope that somehow you,
Can save me from this darkness.)

Through the lyrics, Délarbé experienced all the moments that he as Fox's inner evil has been through in more recent times. From the many drinking games, of which he and Fox lost most of them.
From, though unwillingly, whoring around the ladies on Christmas parties or at a bar with friends leading to a rocky argument with Krystal in the end. All of it leading up to the point in which the two of them are now. Friends that didn't turn out to be that loyal as Fox thought. Girlfriend committing adultery and no higher power willing to help.
But even after all this, Fox is mature enough to put others in front of himself. He only begged for help, the only kind of needing he ever did, when it was absolutely necessary. When he saw no way out. But it's not him this time: Someone else is this time asking for help. His help.

'Like Hell I will.' reacts Fox to the songs last line while still asleep. Délarbé can't believe his ears. He actually heard him play in his dream?

Awakening as if nothing he said ever came to his mind, he stretches himself out like he's made out of rubber. With mouth open wide yawn lasting a good five seconds, a curled up tongue and some obligatory scratching away of the morning itch, Fox is back in the world of the awake. Still drowsy and with squinted eyes he leans back into his chair. Délarbé quickly sets his guitar ablaze, getting rid of it in the fastest way he can imagine.

'How was your sleep?' asks Délarbé leaving his disbelief from earlier aside.

'Aagh... I slept like a dead man. I really needed that.' claims Fox stretching out again.

'Perhaps less beer next time.' jokes Délarbé.

'F you Dé. Swear to god... Gimme one!'

Délarbé reaches into the cool box and throws up a bottle. With a quick air slash of his claw, the bottle cap and the bottleneck are separated. The cap lands somewhat further in the grass as the bottle lands perfectly in Fox's left paw.

'Ain't this life?' he praises without expectation of an answer. His eyes move over to Délarbé, carefree relaxing. 'Hey Dé?'

'Hm?'

'Remember the Blue Marine?'

Why Fox comes up with that, is a mystery to Délarbé. But as memories of their journey on Aquas come back, he can understand it. The question is just as questionable as the purpose of that waste of space was. A good subject to discuss about is out of their direct league now

'Geh heh! Remember it?' he answers cynical. 'That piece of... Merde, excuse me French, was a like a dildo. That useful.'

What was that for an answer? A dildo? Did he lose his mind? Yeah, he is insane. But that's his trademark. He's murderous, brutal, mostly unforgiving but not a rambling idiot. 'Uuuhhh... What?' asks Fox righteous.

'How useful is a dildo to you?' clarifies Délarbé.

'Uuuhhh... Oooh! Ah yeah. I get it.'

'You kinda killed off the joke halfway huh?' They have a quick laugh. 'But uh... what about that dildo?' inquires Délarbé still upholding his joke.

'Do you know what happened to it?'

'Whaz?' wonders Délarbé confused. How should he know?

'You know, as a hybrid Bringer of Destruction, the Devil in your own right, Lord of Death and so on...' Délarbé likes the praising words and ego-trippingly starts to stroke around his symbols. Like a girl curling her own hair when she gets a compliment or is nervous around a cute guy. 'I figured you might know.' finishes Fox.

'No clue.' he shrugs without any thinking about if he saw that ship ever again. 'But...' he adds quick. 'I'll do some asking around.' he assures his friend.

He leans back and enjoys the view of the night. 'Nah forget it.' dismisses Fox, not wanting to put so much on his new friend. 'Hey pal. The night is still young. Grab a beer yourself.' he winks.

'Thanks "master".' replies Délarbé sarcastic. Unlike Fox's bottle, he opens his one with his fangs. He spits the cap further than Fox's cap landed.
'Seriously?' reacts Fox. 'You really have to better me in everything? You already got me locked in this, now awesome place. What else would you like to victor over?'

Délarbé is glad to shake his flaming index finger in dismay. 'You're no longer a prisoner of Nehter.' says Délarbé relieving. 'Since the chains and ropes were broken and cut, you were free to go wherever, whenever.'

Fox sighs deep and grumbling. 'Bah! Of course. I should have known.' He submits to how the situation is now. After all, in this short period of time, he has been hoping, mourning, confronted with the truth that broke him all over again and eventually build up. Ironically by the being inside that has the most tendency for destruction, but it matters not. 'But you know what Dé?' continues Fox.

'What?'

'I have been thinking in my sleep. Putting the negatives and positives in perspective... under a soothing tone of a, mwoah...well preformed guitar riff...' he compliments intermediate. Délarbé gets a smile on his face. 'Of which I'm very sure you have played.' knows Fox glancing sneakingly at Délarbé. A little blushy, he scratches behind his left ear.

'Thanks Fox.'

'I know why you play music like that. And since I do, there's absolutely no reason why I should recite it.' he entrusts to his friend.

'Jesus fucking Christ Fox. Stop it!' shouts Délarbé. 'This emotional bullshit is getting on my capabilities. Soon I'll be a guest star on Care Bears!'

Fox begins to roar.

'I mean... seriously man.' he continues. 'Making a demon cry could only be possible with a damn onion and now you come along with your nonsense.'

'Aren't I one?' states Fox wonderful.

'One asshole yeah!' He takes a sip from his beer as the angry tone is taken away by the beer. 'But anyway. We're drifting off pretty bad; You said you figured it out?'

'I did in fact. Erhm...' he clears his throat as he puts his bottle on the ground. He turns himself to Délarbé. 'After all I've been through, I came to the conclusion that you can have me.'

'That sounded better in your head, didn't it?' reacts Délarbé with a whiff of disgust. 'Because eh... that's crossing too many borders.' he laughs awkwardly.

'I'm serious Dé.' states Fox determined. But, with one catch: 'One thing: Don't kill her directly. I'm very sure she can pull through your planned challenges and get out alive. Sigh... I'm gonna regret it someday, or maybe not all, but you can go ahead. Do your thing.'

Fox seems very sure about it as he sits ready in his chair.

'There is no turning back. Are you very sure?' verifies Délarbé, not willing to force.

No reply is still a reply. A look at the glimmering of Fox's eyes is enough. He wants to mend what was once broken. Understanding, Délarbé reaches with his left paw into the cool box. There he releases a small firestorm which leaves only one bottle alive. He plucks it out of the box.

'I could have given you a contract, but since we're here, I figured this might be the more appropriate method of sealing the deal.'

'What am I?' acts Fox accused. 'A drunk? An alcohol whore?' He quickly snatches it out of Délarbé's paw. 'I'm just thristy.' he answers very innocent.

Just before he puts the already open bottle against his lips, there is something strange about it all. 'Hey Dé. Is this thing okay?' wonders Fox.

'Sure thing. Why shouldn't it be?' wonders Délarbé innocent.

'Well...' brings Fox up as if having second thoughts. 'If I give you my body... where will I go? My being?'

'Certainly not back here!' guarantees Délarbé quickly. Fox shouldn't think that he isn't a bit thankful for all he did for him. 'No no no Foxy.' he stresses as he lies back into the chair. 'Instead, you'll become a free and bodiless spirit. You can...' He stops mid-sentence as he can't quite find the right words to explain it. 'It's like being a ghost. A ghost with the ability to travel from realm to realm. Dimension, through dimension.' explains Délarbé with a drawn-out picture of it in his head.

'So... anywhere?'

'That's right!'

The concept of that idea sounds great. He could see how his other selfs are doing in alternate realities? What would have happened if he never kicked Krystal out? If Panther never existed. If Andross never existed, and his father never died. Not even imagining what life would be like if Starfox never came to his father's mind. His mother, Vixy, would still be alive. Lylat would be in peace. And he also might have found a girlfriend, a life-mate, who wouldn't cheat on him in the midst of a rocky argument.

'You can also go back into time, or into the future. Other realities...' The possibilities are endless so he decides to sum it up. 'This reality, other places, Hell... HEAVEN for all I care!' he laughs a bit awkward at the mentioning of that for him hellish place. 'And you can always come join me and experience what I do as a passenger of a cruise ship.' he ends as a good comparison.

'And the drink itself?' tosses Fox up as if that was more important than anything else Délarbé just mentioned.

'What about it? Why should it be wrong?'

'Because you set fire to it.' replies Fox obvious. 'Duh...'

The hybrid vulpine simply shrugs and looks away. 'I could also eat your heart out.' says Délarbé as if it's completely normal to eat someone's heart out. He looks back at Fox with a creepy smile on his face.

'What!?' exclaims Fox a little scared. He's not gonna do that now will he!?

'Give it a try then you crybaby. Geh heh… It's still cold. Even colder than the others.' promotes Délarbé.

Fox calms down, throwing his previous scare in the shredder. 'It better be colder than Krystal's beating heart.' comments Fox harsh.

'Burn...' hisses Délarbé, almost as if he felt that stinging pain.

'How about "Freeze"?' brings Fox up.

'A toast to sucky humor!'

At the same time, the two friends drink from their bottles. But instead of regular liquid beer, Fox ingests some sort of gooey, droopy substance with a beer-ish taste. He's forced to gulp it down as his body seems to be paralyzed. Anything but the necessary muscles work. The liquid leaves a scorched feeling in the throat and on the tongue as it all finally is gone from the bottle. It lands in his stomach like an extremely heavy anvil. Gasping, he bends over in preparation to puke it all out again.

'The feeling kinda barfs, doesn't it?' comments Délarbé funny.

'It felt like it grabbed my tongue and forced me to swallow it down.' he answers while he wipes his mouth. He swallows hard, to soften his throat. 'So... ugh... what's next? Nothing has happened.' inquires Fox still disgusted.

Délarbé ponders about what went wrong, until he sees that their still something in the bottle.

'Dude. You missed something, stupid...' points Délarbé.
'You've gotta be kidding. Ah well. To good fortune.' The last bit is in fact liquid and doesn't force its way down. It does burn fiercer. 'Son of... Aaaaagh! That some... Dé? Where are you?'

Délarbé is not in his chair.

*What is this?* 'Dé? Where are you?'

'Right behind you.' whispers the black metal voice. 'Sit back and relax.'

He prods his fingers, claws withdrawn, against the sides of Fox's head, around both temples. He closes his eyes as Fox loses control of his body again. The bottle rolls out of his motionless paw until it softly lands in the grass. Grass that begins to wrinkle under the energy-draining method of Délarbé's merging with Fox. All hairs of his fur, not a single one is missed out, stand up as red supersonic waves flow from Fox's head towards every edge of his body. His eyes roll in his skull as Délarbé turns into a shadowy fog-creature. It enters Fox's body through his open mouth, that shuts immediately after entering.

A several dozen minutes later, Fox's body begins to undergo the necessary changes. Everything stretches or cramps together as his fur and skin turn pale, spooky grey. Claws erupt from the tips of his fingers, a fire starts on the one other finger. Razor sharp and gross fangs grow and replace the old teeth, which fall out like acorns from a branch. The eyes, behind closed lids, roll back into place. The lids open as it ignites a slight transparent black flaming glow in the farthest corners of each eye. The flame, like mentioned at the hospital, is now thicker and more visible. The open lids also reveal the red dotted iris and pentagram-shaped iris. Without any undo, he rips of his clothing to regain his old self a little more.

But just as thought he was done, he spots a brand with the round Sigil of Baphomet as its brand. *Just a little present I gave myself to distinguish myself from The Gatekeeper's control. Why? Because I'm worth it.*

His own symbol: five pentagrams in five different positions forming a web containing five eye-like orbs close to the edge of the circle. 555 stands scribbled in a distorted fashion in the middle.

*555. My number. Actually, The Gatekeeper's number. He got it as punishment because he lost to the Devil. Therefore, it the number would become a laughing stock since all Satanic creations fall under 666. But now it's my number! And unlike my former master and creator, I will prevail!*

He grabs the iron handle of the brander and aims for his forehead.

'Bring the exquisite pain back to me! To us! We are branded by her ignorance!' Fox's voice joins the hate speech. 'By her indecision! By her stubbornness! Her narrow-minded behavior has led to this verdict:'
She will spend her days for all eternity in Hell to perish, to burn and roam an endless road of suffering.
Délarbé takes it from here. 'The top world will be shown how darkness feels like. I'll bring this very night like before me… to them! Without the light, the warmth... and the love.'

He makes a fist with his left paw, the claws screeching alongside each other like nails on a chalkboard. His right paw, holds the brand close to his forehead. Fox decides to join again.

'We're branded like an animal!' exclaims the two in an echo-packed and pitched down demonic manner. The brand is forcefully pressed against Délarbé's forehead. No screaming: they bite their tongues and grate their teeth.
The hissing sound of the burning slowly subsides as the cooled down brand falls on the ground. His arms and paws lay relaxed over the arm rail as he leans backward; much like a real king. The white moon starts to turn red the moment Délarbé and Fox start to whistle their tune. The Sons of Plunder materialize behind him as vague marching is heard on the background. The marching becomes louder as it's in sync with the general rhythm of the tune. An army of the already once mentioned Sympathists is approaching behind him.

'The Blood Moon is upon us. Wreak havoc in the top world my Sympathists and Sons. Kill Bill commands it.' chuckles Délarbé evil as the army seems infinitely gigantic. The green grass combusts spontaneously when they come close. Familiar faces are seen in between the soldiers. The police and inspector at the butchery, several hospital staff and the owner of the D.I.Y. All wear Bane-like masks on, shaped like a pure golden, inverted cross that ends on their foreheads.

As overwhelming they are, Délarbé feels entertained as they make their way towards him and the Blood Moon, now a portal to the top world. Target: Papetoon City. Main goal: Kill Krystal.