A/N:

AND WE'RE BACK, BABY! Hello, hello! I know, you guys anticipated a much longer break between Part 2 and 3, but I really wanted to get a bit of a head start.

Uploads might be sporadic—I am currently in the works of publishing my first novel! Things are a little crazy right now but FanFiction is still my home and my favorite place to write, so I will keep this going strong. You all had me first, and I'm still dedicated to completing this tale. Besides...FanFiction helped shape me into the writer I am today.

I am thankful to this community, thankful to you, thankful to this website...thankful, thankful, thankful (and it just so happens to be Thanksgiving Eve!).

Without further adieu...I present to you: Me, The Legendary Hero: Part 3.

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Jak.

I had always wondered what freedom—real freedom—felt like.

I had always wondered what it would be like to catch a break, to be able to enjoy life without worry or fear.

I wasn't used to the idea of simply enjoying life, feeling content and at ease as often as I did lately. I expected something to go terribly wrong all the time. I expected a new war, a new battle, a new fight with a new enemy. Nothing ever came easy. So, I never got comfortable.

And it's a good thing I didn't, because over the past two years, the crime rates in every local town had slowly increased to the point where no one was safe.

There was no explanation, no reason or rhyme to why things had gone south. I mean, gangs were always a thing, the mob, the rich who broke the law without "breaking the law". Gambling and underground clubs exposed. Drugs; tons of drugs being bought and sold. Thugs fighting other thugs, who then fought innocent people. People knew how to protect themselves at least, but there had been more break-ins in the last year than I'd ever seen in my life. Security drone companies were making a hefty profit from all their sales, and citizens were off the streets by early evening. Whether it was something in the air, or a change in the system...shit was hitting the fan.

Life had been easy for a little while, but I knew it would be short-lived.

Moving didn't help either. Well, it did, at first. Haven City, my first home since my departure from Sandover Village many years ago, held memories. Too many memories, both good and bad. Most of them ugly. Part of me held onto for so long it because it was familiar, just as Sandover had been. But eventually, I figured out that "familiarity" didn't necessarily mean the particular place should be called "home".

I'd kept my tiny apartment in Spargus City, but with my son Sparxon getting older and more mobile, my wife Darla and I needed more space. Spargus remains our second home, but those memories, too, were just as painful as those from Haven.

We needed a fresh start. And, of course, my girl knew exactly where we needed to be.

Kras City was perfect. It was new and it was exciting and it was full of life. The perfect combination of country and city rolled into one- endless beaches, forests protecting its borders. Places to go, people to see, events to attend, vehicle races to coordinate.

I had a job and a purpose—I'd opened up a shop, a new garage with Keira, that made profit off of racers' broken down cars and Keira's racing team. I provided the clients, while her employees provided the maintenance and services. She and Maichael remained in Haven, and she kept her original shop there, but her garage in Kras gave me a profession I actually enjoyed. A job, I should add, that didn't involve me going on suicide-missions regularly.

Life was good. It was really, really good.

Until it wasn't.

I hoped for the best, expected the worst. Darla actually saw it coming in her visions, but I saw it coming too. All that mattered now was that my family and friends were safe from harm, and that law enforcement would find a way to improve the terrible situations happening in all the cities post-war. Things lately had been...tough. But my loved ones always came first and I needed to protect them first and foremost before the city itself.

"Daddy."

I shook myself free of my thoughts, tearing my eyes away from the pink and orange sunset sky to gaze down at my mini-me. He was tugging on my pant leg fervently, blinking his wide, indigo eyes.

I lifted his small form up with one arm, his legs clinging to my hips as he gazed out at the ocean view. He didn't say anything as he stared, the look on his face pensive, yet concerned. He sighed quietly, his soft, little hand resting on my chest.

I nudged his cheek with my nose. "You alright, buddy?" I asked him. Even though he didn't often speak, it was obvious he was always deep in thought. There were things in his head that I couldn't see, that no one could see. I didn't know what went on in that brilliant little brain of his, but I knew he was just that; brilliant.

He looked up at me, his blond eyebrows lowered. "Yeah," he squeaked.

He smiled at me then, taking my cheeks between his palms and smushing them. I kissed his forehead with fish-lips and he giggled. "Fishy face!" He cried out.

I laughed hard and squeezed him. Sparky just loved making people laugh—especially me. He buried his face in my neck, and I held his head to me, breathing in.

In life, you think certain things mean so much to you, that they're everything to you. You find love, or a passion, or even a small hobby. You find reasons to live, to keep going, reasons to be strong. You find that purpose everyone searches for their whole lives. But you don't realize how "small" some of those other things are once you find a love like what I had for my son.

Sparxon was everything to me. Absolutely everything.

"Daddy?"

I tilted my head to look at my kid. "Yeah, bud?"

He pressed his cheek to mine, wrapping his arms around my neck. His finger tips slid into the back of the collar of my shirt, and they tapped the seal of Mar tattoo on my left shoulder blade. I rocked slowly, rubbing his back with one hand, thinking of how one day he would be too big for me to hold him like this. He was growing fast, transforming from a literal sack of potatoes into a little person. But no matter how big he got, no matter how much he changed or didn't change...he'd still be everything. He'd always be everything.

"Me too, Daddy." He finally said.

"Me too?" I inquired, lifting an eyebrow.

"Yeah. Me too."

I blinked, looking back out the window at the ocean. No, he didn't say much, but when he did speak, he frequently said things like that. He'd ramble or say things that made sense in theory, but didn't make sense at all, because he couldn't possibly understand what he was even saying in the first place. Me too what? What does he think he's agreeing with?

The sky was darker now, meaning it was almost bedtime for my boy. Although, he does have the rest of his life to sleep...

I kissed his blond head. "Sparky—"

"Story?" He pulled back and beamed at me. "Please?"

I chuckled. "Yeah. Sure." I closed the curtains to the window and carried him to his room. "But just one. Mommy's going to be mad at me if she finds out I kept you up again."

Sparxon smirked mischievously. "Two stories?"

I rolled my eyes, hitting his door closed with my backside. "Okay. Two stories." He was very well-behaved; he deserved two bedtime stories. But he did get cranky in the morning whenever D and I kept him up too late the night before, so I knew I shouldn't give in to him so much.

But, then again, he had the rest of his life to sleep.

I sat us down onto his little mattress, leaning against the headboard. I moved him next to me in the crook of my arm and he clasped his hands together expectantly.

"Which ones do you want to hear? Which one first?" I asked, brushing a curl of hair out of his indigo orbs.

"You meeting Mommy." He answered, then gasped, bolting up and scrambling into my lap. "No! No. Do the...the...the one when Uncle Dax raced the zoomer. No!" He tapped my chest frantically. "Tell me Papa Damas's. When he saved you and Uncle Dax."

I rested the back of my head against the headboard with a thud. "That one again? I've told you it, like, four times this week."

"Again, Dad." He grabbed me by the ears, forcing me to look down at him. "It's best."

"That's your favorite, huh?"

He nodded, releasing my ears. His hand went to my shoulder and he touched my tattoo again. "Don't be sad."

I smiled. "I'm not."

"You is."

"You are." I corrected him.

"No you."

I growled at him, making him squeal and jump back, little sparks of dark eco zapping out of his body at my hands. He was right—in a way, I was sad speaking about my father, the great King Damas Mar. It was hard to talk about him. The mere mention of his name made me ache in a thousand different ways.

But I also loved to tell Sparky about his heritage, remind him of the legacy he was a part of. And he loved to hear about Damas—god, he just loved it. Sparx loved Damas even though he didn't even know him.

And Sparky knew me well, maybe better than I knew myself. He was so aware of what I was feeling, all the time, even when I didn't express it. His giggles quieted and I dragged him back up to me, sitting him on my stomach.

"Sometimes it makes me sad to talk about your Papa." I said, patting Sparxon's leg. "But it also makes me happy to share these stories with you."

Sparxon's bottom lip jutted out in a pout, and he looked a hell of a lot like his mother. He gazed up at me through his long eyelashes.

"I miss him, Dad."

I sighed. The fact that he missed a man he didn't even know...I felt like I was doing something right.

Sparxon grinned at me then with the few teeth he had.

"The best." He said.

I shook my head at him. "What's the best?"

He flung his arms around my neck, squeezing until I faked a choking sound. "You!"

I unwrapped his arms and bit his hand. "I'm the best?"

"Yeah!" He laughed and yanked his hands from my mouth.

"No, bud. You're the best."

"No you." He argued, staring at me squarely.

I rolled my eyes for the second time that night. Boy, did he love this game. He rolled off of me then, snuggling up to my side as he rested his head on my stomach.

"Story time?" I asked him.

"Papa's story."

I slid myself down until I hit the pillow. I got comfortable, placing my hand on Sparxon's head, petting it in the way he liked.

"So, there we were," I began with a silent yawn. "Daxter and I were up against some of the nastiest creatures we had ever seen..."

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Darla.

I entered the apartment, eyes watering from exhaustion. I sighed, quietly placing my keys in the bowl near the front door.

"Hello?" I called quietly, hoping my son was asleep in his bed. By the silence I got in response, I had a feeling I knew exactly what I'd be walking into.

As I headed down the hall to my left toward Sparxon's room, a vision flashed behind my eyes of my son, fourteen years old, learning how to drive a zoomer. His Aunt Keira was teaching him.

I stumbled into the wall a bit, distracted by the images. I'd seen this one a lot lately, and I wondered why the universe was showing me it. Maybe it was because my kid was the center of my world. But the universe had been showing me relevant and irrelevant images that consistently buzzed in my mind, day in and day out, a thousand futures and pasts twisting together. Fitting and not fitting, like puzzle pieces from different puzzle sets—some sliding together perfectly, while others piled up in corners. None of them mattered, but all of them mattered. So, Keira teaching my son to drive...it was only just another piece of one of the puzzles.

I smiled to myself as I cracked open Sparx's bedroom door. Lo and behold, my two men were sound asleep.

Jak was a massive lump on Sparxon's bed, completely taking over, but my little boy found a way to wedge himself comfortably under his father's arm. Jak's cheek was smushed against Sparky's head, and the two of them were breathing heavily in sync with one another.

I leaned on the door frame, smirking and shaking my head. Those two were peas in a pod.

After a moment of adoration, I crept over to my boys. I knelt beside the bed, leaning down to kiss my son on his temple. I then moved to Jak's face, brushing his green and blond hair back before pressing my lips to his.

His nose twitched and his arms tightened around our kid. He blinked his eyes open slowly, then smiled wide.

"Hey, baby." He rasped, gazing heavy-lidded up at me. "How was work?"

"Damn, you've got your sexy voice right now." I growled quietly, nipping his nose. He rolled his eyes and I snickered. He took my hand and grazed his lips over my knuckles, making my shoulders relax. "Work was good. Tiring."

I didn't need to work—Jak and I both didn't. Damas made sure we were well-off, that was for certain. But we liked doing things, we liked helping people and being out in the world. I was a combat medic at heart, and I was able to acquire a position with the Kras City Freedom Force that allowed me to train fighters in emergency situations. I was able to teach them how to respond to a medical emergency, even in the middle of battle. There weren't many fights these days, but the usual city crime and gang uprisings proved that it was necessary to train people in medicine...and, in general, emergency situations.

I loved to inspire others. I loved to help. I loved our new home, and my life with my husband and son.

But it was only a matter of time before the next chapter of our lives, the next major warning my visions provided me for years now, would begin.

Jak reached up and touched the side of my face, his thumb running across my bottom lip. "Long day?"

I nodded, leaning into his palm. "Long day." I lifted an eyebrow at my man. "Did you keep him up again?"

Jak grinned sheepishly. "He really likes my stories."

I grinned back, standing and kissing him on the head. I patted his butt. "Come on. Get your giant self out of the poor boy's bed."

Jak grunted, slowly untangling himself from Sparx. He shifted down to the edge of the bed, sat up and stretched.

Sparxon stirred, rolling onto his back and rubbing his tired, pretty eyes. "Mommy?"

"Hi, sweetie." I cooed, sitting on the mattress beside him, petting his hair. "Did your dad keep you up with his stories again?"

Sparky giggled and climbed into my lap. He stood on my thighs, curling his hands into my hair.

"Dad sleep'd first." He whispered, and the two of us giggled together.

Jak looked over his shoulder at us. "I did not."

Sparx laughed. "You did." His eyes met mine. "Mommy? Dagny's comin' to play today, yeah?"

I smiled. "You mean tomorrow." Sparky nodded, pulling at my curls gently. "Yes, Dagny is coming tomorrow. Aunt Tessie and Uncle Torn are bringing him and Tara by."

My son's eyes lit up, little bolts of violet electricity dancing across their whites.

"Tara." He stated with a smile.

Jak cleared his throat loudly, and I glanced at him. He blinked wildly. "Tara's coming over, huh?"

I winked his way. "Yup."

He groaned as he got up from the bed. "And so it begins..."

Sparx and I locked eyes and he stroked my hair. "Uh oh. Mommy's in trouble."

"No..." I blushed, and my eyes flickered to Jak. He mimicked my wink, then waved at Sparxon before exiting the room.

I laid my son down on his bed, tucking him under the blankets Tess knitted for him before we moved to Kras. He giggled and squirmed, cuddling into the pillow and pulling his stuffed lurker shark out from beneath it. I leaned forward and we nuzzled noses before I said goodnight to him.

"Mama?" He asked softly as I flicked off the light.

"Baby?" I smiled at him in the darkness.

"Don't be sad."

My brow furrowed, the doorknob twisting in my grip. "I'm not sad."

The hall light reflected in his eyes as they slowly blinked. "You are."

"What makes you think so?"

His eyes closed as he squeezed his lurker shark tightly to his face. "You know. So, me know, too."

"Uh..." I stared at my son, his face so relaxed and content, despite his confusing statement. My lips pressed into a thin line, "Hmm."

"Love you Mommy," he said.

"Love you more, Sparky." I smiled, closing the door until it was only slightly ajar.

I stood outside the door of my boy's bedroom, baffled by his words. He was such a normal little boy, no smarter or braver or faster than the average toddler. Sure, he had powers that Jak and I had only begun to scratch the surface of, things we'd soon have to teach him to control. Other than that, he was truly an ordinary child.

But I also knew better than to fully accept that he was ordinary. Sparxon had a complex mind. He thought first, when other children acted. And you could tell just by looking at him that there were things in his head. I hoped he didn't have a voice in his mind—a demon—like I did. I didn't think he would. But he knew things...I didn't know what exactly he knew, yet there was something, just an air or aura about him that made you feel that he was aware of all things. He was a bit of an old soul, an empath, and he he would have abilities beyond our imaginations. Of course, he would be different than other kids—I knew that. But...the way he spoke so...cryptically...

I finally released my death grip on the doorknob with a loud exhale. I'll ask him about it some day. I started down the hall towards mine and Jak's room, dragging my hands down my face.

I can't worry about it now. I thought to myself. He's good. We're all good.

Then why are you sad?

The demon already knew the answer to that. She knew what I'd been up to, the plans I tried to make to prevent what was coming.

I stared down at my open palms, pausing outside my bedroom door.

Because I know "good" isn't going to last much longer.

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A/N:

A preview for what is to come! Hope you all enjoyed and were surprised by this extremely sooner-than-expected update. I wanted to give you guys a little something for the holiday season.

Hope you all have a happy Thanksgiving- may the Precursors bless you with reasons to give thanks!

~RyJones