Disclaimer: I do not own Cyberchase. It belongs to PBS Kids, among others.
Summary: Will the returned Crimson Blade, altered but still as evil as ever, achieve his ultimate goal? Who will become tangled in his dark designs? And, most of all, who will survive his vicious onslaught? New allies, new threats, and old enemies combine to make the Cybersquad's desperate fight against Crimson harder than ever…
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The final battle is over. Now the Cybersquad must learn to put aside the events of that dark day, and turn to the future…
Rating: PG-13 (minimal gore, death, violence)
Author's Note/s: This is the last chapter…
The thing that Scythe wrote… I wrote that myself, and I'm quite proud of it. © ME! p
Chapter 15: Final Destinations…A black-glassed girl lay on her bed, the light of the stars glittering upon the tears on her face.
An African-American eleven-year old rested her head on her desk, eyes thoughtful and questioning.
A cyber-bird surveyed a quiet control room, remembering, reminiscing.
A red-haired boy sat in his own room, watching the moon rise steadily in the velvety darkness.
Each of them was thinking of the same thing: the piece of paper Scythe had given Digit.
-
…They heard the coupe start up, then shoot off into the encrypted world of Cyberspace…
Opening the folded, somewhat crumpled piece of paper, Digit began to read the words written upon it in black, clean strokes, his voice resounding in the full, yet seemingly empty, room.
"To the Cybersquad.
Though you will question my reasons,
Form your theories, and
Rest your case when all seems explained,
It is the unexplained that tells the story.
The reasons I possess, I will explain to you,
So you may understand, and be at peace.
The side of good
Requests faith and untainted souls,
And, in that, I cannot pursue that road.
I am the twilight, the shadows
That lurk beneath the surface.
And you ask
Why can't you let go,
Of this darkness, this
Strange feeling, reserved,
And abstract in its beauty?
While hiding in a corner,
Light and laughter cower."
Jackie then took the paper from the cybird, and continued to speak the words Scythe had written for them.
"Fear is rampant, unreasonable,
And brings me to my knees,
Its blade piercing my heart,
A shaft burrowing to the core.
Love is consumed,
Plunged into the deep well
Of hate's utter depths,
Lost forever in black fury,
The stain, the cancer.
While my soul fights to be free,
It also strays into darkness' arms,
Enfolded into a world that everyone knows;
Most of those hide it, conceal it,
Cloak the growing mould with
Forced smiles, and nervous laughter,
Echoing in the emptiness
Of our cancerous souls."
When Jackie's voice faded, Matt plucked the paper from her fingers and read on.
"And though I venture once more,
Into light, where my eyes are closed,
The darkness draws me backLike a fly to the spider's web.
For while I wander in dark lands,
I see as I have never seen before.
The world showed me its true nature,
And therefore, I fled, turning my back on that,
Within, keeps the true darkness.
Loneliness, my faithful companion,
Along with two who bind me to my fate,
Follow me in the darkness that is mine.
Labyrinths of the mind,
Confused in their intricate workings,
Represented in the passages of my life.
The things I have done, acts
I cannot redeem myself for,
Are the second of things that keep me here."
Finally, as the boy handed her the paper, Inez continued the poem, voice strong.
"Torturous, never-ending, the night invades,
Half-dreamt shapes, imagined spectres,
I glimpse at every movement, every breath,
And then,
I hear their screams in my nightmares,
Reliving the horror over and over again;
Release will never truly retreat, and the dawn
Brings me faint relief, when I will awake,
And return to reality once more.
I maintain a lack of expression, for
Through expression my downfall came:
Therefore, I remain distant and cold.
Darkness' intoxication,
Alluring, calling, haunts me,
It is this that I return to,
It is this that I cannot deny.
I walk in twilight, and these are the paths
Where you cannot follow."
Inez let the paper fall onto the table, and together the Cybersquad read the last line:
"I regret the absence of my company, but this is why I cannot stay. I only hope you can understand."
Glancing at each other, the four friends spoke the name quietly.
"Scythe."
-
Inez sighed softly and turned her face from the stars. They held no beauty for her anymore. Light held no beauty for her anymore. One day she supposed she would stop crying, stop going over the past events in her mind, but for now, nothing would block the memories that flooded her mind with no regard to her feelings.
Again and again, she remembered the claw-like hand digging into her neck, tearing the flesh asunder. Without ceasing, the feeling of her mind fading away filled her head. And, most hauntingly of all, she could still feel the touch of a particular person's lips on hers. She could still remember the light grey eyes searching her soul. She could still hear the sound of his voice in her head…
After a while, her tears ceased, and she found that the dull ache in her chest had eased. Wiping her eyes, the girl sat up and put on her glasses, stared up at the stars again. They glimmered, faint spots of molten silver: stark contrast against the darkness of the night.
We are those stars, she thought, as they sparkled and shone above her. We are that light in Hacker's darkness. We will last a long time, so long that we will eventually defeat him. We could never turn to true darkness; it is not in our nature…
"He was right," Inez whispered aloud, finally. "We cannot follow where he walks."
And, walking barefoot over to her window, she stood bathed in starlight, and her soul was at last at peace.
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Jackie laid her head down on her desk, feeling the smooth, cool wood underneath her fingers. The past few days had been upsetting and tiring for her, yet she knew she would never forget what had happened. Those memories would not fade, unlike the cuts on her arms, which were disappearing from her skin rapidly.
I never want to feel that weak ever again, the African-American girl said to herself firmly. That has got to be one of the worst feelings I have ever experienced. Seeing your friends get hurt and not be able to do anything about it…
Shuddering, Jackie pushed the memory from her mind – knowing it would return later – and thought instead of Scythe's 'letter'. It seemed to explain what the teenager was like fairly sufficiently. Maybe the Cybersquad would see him again, sometime…
I wonder what he's doing now, she pondered. Probably talking to those things of his. Or maybe he keeps pet bats…
Shut up, Jackie, she said mentally, and smiled. Pet bats, indeed…
-
Digit looked around the room sadly, remembering.
It seems so empty without the earthlies, he thought, sighing. Ah, well. At least when Hacker attacks again, they'll be back here.
In his wing, he clasped a crumpled piece of paper, which he unfolded and read for the thousandth time. Lines jumped out at him, lines written in black ink, lines that were etched in handwriting that reminded him of their creator.
…The side of good
Requests faith and untainted souls…
…The darkness draws me back
Like a fly to the spider's web…
…I walk in twilight, and these are the paths
Where you cannot follow…
As the cybird closed his eyes tiredly, images, sounds, feelings, all flickered through his brain like an endless slideshow. The crack of his neck as it was broken by a powerful hand. A cynical, hissing voice, echoing in the air. The last thing he saw, before his system shut down, a pair of flaming eyes…
Jerking out of his torpor, Digit looked up at his gentle leader, forgetting the horrors for the moment. He needed to sleep for a while… perhaps for an eternity…
"Good night, Motherboard," he said to the supercomputer, placing a wing on the hard drive and patting it. "I'm goin' to bed."
"Good night – Digit," Motherboard responded, smiling down at him; her face blinked off the screen, and she returned to sleep mode. Dr Marbles was making his rounds about Control Central, checking for intruders and the like.
Folding the paper back up, Digit placed it in his chest compartment and fluttered out of the room softly.
-
Matt sat on his bed, staring out into the night, thinking, trying not to let the tears he had been holding back fall. He knew it would bring him relief, but did he deserve it? Even after his conversations with Scythe and his friends, the boy still had some regrets about the final battle.
If only I had been stronger, he berated himself. If only I could have resolved things other than murdering Crimson Blade. I wanted to hurt him, but not actually kill him. That blood of his will never wash out of my clothes, nor my hands.
He glanced down at them suddenly, as if fearful they would become stained with black, dripping blood. They were clean as ever, but in his mind he could still hear the slow drip… drip… drip of the liquid flowing to the ground from Crimson's mouth.
Squeezing his eyes shut, Matt felt a burning sensation beneath both eyelids, could barely swallow past the lump in his throat. The pain became unbearable, until finally, he broke down and wept.
He cried for innocence lost, for happiness, for hope. Remembered fear of not being able to breathe, of concern for his friends, of the loss of life strangled him like two mismatched hands. He sobbed until finally the tears subsided, and he could breathe freely again, except for an occasional catch in his voice.
"I wish all of this had never happened," the boy whispered brokenly. He had had to hide the scars all over his body from his parents, for fear they would ask him what happened; Matt was afraid that he wouldn't be able to lie to them. Not about something like that. In time, he hoped, the scars would fade, and there would be nothing left to show it apart from his mental scars – which would always remain, he knew.
Something else told him, though the other part of his mind fought wildly against this reasoning, that murdering Crimson Blade had been necessary. In fact, that voice sounded very much like Scythe's… and as the night wore on, he believed it more and more.
Hours later, when the moon had risen to its zenith and had begun its descent down the lightening sky, Matt lay on his bed, and dreamed.
A figure, a twisted figure, clothed in tattered black robes, whispered things into his brain with a high-pitched, sarcastic voice. Iron-like hands gripped his neck with immense strength, crushing the very life out of him. Metallic fingers scraped across his skin, drawing blood, staining them red. Whirling limbs beat the breath from his body. A scream, ear-piercing and never-ending, spoke of pain and death, of fear and darkness. Black blood flowed over his hands, marking them irreversibly… A pair of crimson eyes burned into his soul with an infinite flame.
And it burned, and would keep on burning, forever, eternally…
Suddenly, without warning, a shining light banished the darkness, a light so bright that it caused the mismatched creature to fall back, covering its face, then vanish into the shadows, shrieking one last, one final, defiance:
"Death will not stop me finding you in your darkest dreams… your darkest nightmares… and in that, I will live forever!"
Sitting bolt upright, jerked awake, Matt stared wildly out the window, at the silver moon, which was beaming its full light upon his face, having dropped into sight. The calm, pure light eased his soul, drove away the memories, smoothed the lines of fear and angst etched on his face. After a few minutes gazing restfully into the silver-cast night, the red-haired boy lay back once more, nightmares of flaming crimson eyes and shrieking voices forgotten.
As the moon descended below the window and continued on its way, Matt's eyes fluttered closed.
And he drifted off into a peaceful, dreamless sleep.
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The End
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Re-edit
Notes: Heh. I'm so pathetic. I almost started crying when I
read this. The parts that really got me were at the end of Chapter
14, "Perhaps I do not walk alone." (Oops. There I go again. My
eyes are starting to water…) and just before that, with the scene
between Matt and Scythe. "There is much love in the world."
"It
is too late for love." (Aargh. –reaches for a tissue-) So… I
guess that's all I'll be writing for this… it's definitely
over now… awww…. –snuffles- Cya next time. We end with… 36,
064 words!
Author's End Notes: -is crying- Well, that's it. The final story of the Crimson Blade saga is at an end. He may be mentioned in some of my upcoming fics, but only in passing.
I also have some thanks to give. BIG THANKS TO FLIP8, who helped me so much with this fanfiction, offering music, themes, suggestions, plots, and many more! –super-mega-power-glomps flip8- THANKYOU! XD Really, I should put you as co-writer. Seriously.
More thanks go to the authors who wrote the preceding fics: DarkHououmon and Mister Pie. Thanks, you guys!
I've been working on this fic for over half a year now, and I'm going to miss sitting down to write the next chapter… but, as the summary says, I have to look to the future, where other fanfics await me.
Snifflingly yours,
Final Fantasy GX.