"Your powers are weakening," Michael smirked. "Are you losing your touch?"

"So you would like to believe," Nicholas snorted.

"I'm still standing." He gestured to his freestanding form.

Nicholas' silence spoke volumes.

"Has your Almighty King, decided to forsake you, as well? The bodies tell a morbid tale." He glanced over Nicholas' shoulder to the officers sprawled in the background.

"Oh I knew," Nicholas growled, moving towards the smug ex-commander. "Sacrifices need to be made. That would be a concept too puny for your little hybrid mind." He shrugged. "As long as as I'm not one of them. And he's assured me of that."

"Do you really trust a liar and a traitor?" He couldn't believe how naive Nicholas was being. Once Khivar had the power, did Nicholas truly believe he'd share it?

"Oh, I'm touched." Nicholas touched his hand over his heart. "You're thinking of little ole' me?"

"I'm thoughtful like that," Michael said dryly.

"So am I," he frowned, feigning as if he had taken offense at the comment, "just in a different way." Burrowing into Michael's mind, he began to pick at his thoughts, his memories. The inner workings of the intricate psyche. It was complex and always interesting. He had raised ravaging men and women's minds to a delicate art. Touch a certain nerve and...

Michael felt waves of nausea overwhelm him. He knew Nicholas was trying to render him unconscious or even dead, but there he stood. "Is that all you've got?" He was unable to fully utilize his own powers, as he was afraid at what consequences might arise from the unfocused release of his powers. So staggering to his opponent, he swung hard and blindly, feeling the combination of flesh and bone collide with his fist.

Nicholas had been caught off guard. He never expected the brute to act out so violently - like some kind of animal. He fell back, stunned by the unexpected attack.

Michael fell to his knees, as the sweet, satisfying crunch registered in his ears. Suddenly the nausea and confusion lifted immediately. The unimaginative loser. There was no way he was falling for the same stunt twice. If he could not beat him while under mental attack, Michael would just have to take that option away. "See, I'm a quick learner," he taunted, looming over Nicholas, who was nursing his wound - a cut lip. "Or couldn't you discern that with that little telepathic mind?"

Nicholas was getting a little fed up with the overbearing pseudo-commander. The man hadn't seen more than two decades life, while he had seen and aided in the rise of a new ruler. Rath was starting to get on his nerves. "Do not overestimate my ability to adapt," he spat, straightening his leg and kicking Rath's feet from underneath him. "I am not an inexperienced recruit, Rath. I have lived in the heat of battle." He pushed himself to his feet, wiping the trickle of blood that stained the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand. "And as you can see, I have survived it all."

Closing his eyes, Nicholas seized Michael's mind. If it could have been visible, it would have been like holding a clear glass ball in his hand - so fragile and delicate. His to do with what he willed.

Michael could feel his grip on his mind, willing it to bend to his will. However, the grip did not have quite the same effect as it did during their first confrontation in the desert. He had felt paralyzed and it was as if unable to fully control his powers...

What was happening? He could tangibly feel Rath in his hands, as always, yet something was different. Nicholas felt his prey struggle against him, nothing new, except that everything was.

It brought him back to his childhood and the discovery of his 'gift'. He would play would the minds of strangers. No one knew he was doing it, but as the years passed, he had complete control, which he used to his utter advantage. Joining Khivar's regime, he had worked his way up the ranks quickly. But now, it seemed his control was slipping. It felt as he were a child again, straining to utilize the powers he had discovered to restrain his captive. This cannot be happening. Suddenly an emotion arose that he had not felt since he had been a toddler under the harsh hand of his father. Fear.

It came to him as a glimmer of opportunity. Michael did not need a flashing neon sign to tell him to take it. There was an unexpected chink in Nicholas' armor, and he would take full advantage of it. Relaxing against Nicholas' mental restraints, he focused his mind; feeling, rather than mindlessly raging against his captor, he was waiting for opportunity to show itself.

Good. I have control again. Nicholas smiled, as he approached the tall half-Kedran, half human form in front of him. He held the tall brute in a vice-like grip. Feeling stronger than he had been previously. Squeezing tightly, Nicholas began to slowly crush the tender organ that brought life's breath into the sorry excuse for a hybrid body. He couldn't help but grin as he heard the labored gasps for air emanating from Rath's lips. "Do you see now?" he said, while his mind forced Rath's body to obey his commands, closing the airway tighter. "Do you see we cannot lose!"

Michael felt himself growing faint, his eyelids drooping, head sagging. No. This isn't the end. He felt it in his bones. This was not the end, not for him. Not for his people.

"Mo-...Fadilia," Isabel whispered quietly, though the only ears that would hear would be the unconscious bodies scattered around them. "Quickly."

"I-I am sorry," Fadilia breathed, trying to catch her breath. "My body seems as affected by whatever rendered these soldiers unconscious." She did not want to be a burden - not when their whole race...planet was at stake.

"Are you going to be all right?" Isabel scanned the room, looking for any survivors of the blast. However, none seemed immune to whatever Khivar had unleashed upon Antar. "I don't want to hurry you, but..."

"No," Fadilia said huskily, grasping her side. "I understand. We must push on. The fate of our people hang in the balance."

Isabel hesitated. "If you're hurt," she whispered, as if the bodies underneath her could possibly hear. "Maybe you should turn back. Maybe you should escape now before..."

"Isabel," Fadilia spoke her name firmly, as she straightened her stance, "do not think I am going to leave you to face this alone."

"Fadilia..."

"I am your mother," she said, a gentle smile breaking upon her lips, as if the word eased whatever pain she was in. "And there is no other place I would rather be."

Isabel did not know what to say. Diane, her mother on Earth, had always been there to protect her - care for her. But standing there in that moment with Fadilia, she could only feel an overwhelming sense of unity - oneness with this person she had only met days earlier. Diane had been there to protect her as a child, and give her a sense of serenity. But the woman who stood there, her biological mother, who knew who and what she was, offered her something Diane could never have - a confidence and strength to do what she must.

"Let's go," Isabel said, her voice barely above a whisper as she fought the tears that had crept up on her. "We have a lot of ground to cover."

"You!" Tess raged, as she lunged forward toward the tall uniformed officer, hovering over her son. With just a glance, she warded off two stuttering architects falling over themselves in fear. "You did this. You did this to my son!"

Barak's eyes widened at the unexpected guest within the tower. He knew not to provoke her. From her perspective, he was the enemy. He was the enemy who had taken her son from her twice. "Your High..."

"Don't you dare speak," she hissed.

Paralyzed by a thought, Barak knew he had awakened a feral instinct in this young mother.

"You fooled me once with your convincing sincerity," Tess said, circling him, searching for what could have possibly convinced her to trust him. "But no more."

"Tess." Andaria reached out, hoping to calm the storm that was brewing inside her, only to be turned away. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw movement from the group of architects huddled in a dark corner of the room. With a flick of her wrist, two metal beams slammed into the ground, splintering into thin metal bars, cornering them in a self-made prison.

"You took my child, pretending to care for him as one of your own," she growled. "And I find myself betrayed. My son about to be murdered by someone who claims to be an ally."

Barak knew there was going to be no opportunity to explain. His heart raced, as her paralyzing and dreadful gaze burned into his soul. She was a mother fighting for her child - nothing and no one would stand in her way. There was only vengance in those black eyes. He swallowed hard, his silenced voice crying out into the darkness. Is this how it is to end? Is this my fate?

'Stop.'

Tess froze, recognizing the soft tender voice of her child, she had been hearing in her dreams and nightmares. In her fury, she overlooked the reason, her purpose, for being there. "Zander." Spinning around, she saw her son enclosed in a cold, black metal dungeon. Hard, sharp plates jutted out from the oval shell, similar to the machination she had rescued him from once before. Long spindled arms stretched down from the black abyss above and thin, claws attached itself, as if a parasite, to the egg-shaped incubator.

'You came, just as I foresaw.'

"I would never leave you," Tess said hoarsely, leaving behind the focus of her anger. Scanning the room, she searched for a way to her child. There was no platform or scaffolding to reach him.

"How do we lower the incubator?" Andaria demanded, glaring intently at her cowering prisoners.

"Y-You do not frighten us," one architect glowered. "You simplistic hag."

"Hag?" Andaria laughed heartily. She had forgotten the veil her architects had clothed her in. Her hand fluttered to her neck, where Radim's necklace still lay. Fingering it, she contemplated revealing herself to the deluded archetypes who believed their 'god' had come in the form of an Iturian man. "Hag to you," she sneered. "But your leader will soon understand where the true power lies." Twisting her hand slightly, the metal bars wrenched, making a loud creaking noise, as if threatening to buckle. The architects watched as their sharp metal cage was soon transformed into a weapon, coming perilously close to their arterial veins. "Now tell me how to reach the child!"

"E-Enter the co-ordinates for Badr, Celestia, and Pela in sequential numerals and lift the lever against the far console," squealed the other pale, sniveling architect. "It will get you what you want!"

Andaria narrowed her eyes, holding the metal slivered bars still near her prisoners, as she glanced over her shoulder towards Tess. "Did you understand, child?"

"I can't," Tess breathed, her eyes darting helplessly. "I don't know the co-ordinates."

"L-Let me," Barak gasped, as he lay crumpled in a heap in front of her. "I-I know..."

"You will do NOTHING!" Tess screamed, pointing her finger at him, daring him to move. "You will never have another chance to harm another hair on my son."

"I did nothing," he breathed heavily, choking while trying to regain oxygen into his lungs. "I did not betray Her Majesty, or His Highness. I would never..." He looked over at Andaria, who seemed pained at his denials of treason. "I could not..."

"You did nothing," Tess said, her voice lowering into an ominous dark tone. "Oh...I see."

Barak lowered his eyes, unable to meet her penetrating gaze. It was as if she was peering into his soul.

"You did nothing to stave off the penetrating darkness that enveloped my son. Nothing. You did nothing to hinder Khivar's malicious, torturous schemes that would call upon the deaths of hundreds of your people...Nothing." Tess felt the thickness of the darkness that had now touched his soul. She saw his guilt; and she uncovered the evil that he had embraced. "And that nothingness can be your comfort now," she spat.

"Tess!" Tess was shaken from the dark trance, finding herself gazing into her mother's eyes.

Andaria knew the pain Tess had to bear, being separated from her child and knowing the suffering he endured. But she could see Tess slipping into an abyss - a place her daughter would not be able to withstand, if it was not stopped this instant. "Barak," she spoke steadily, "enter the co-ordinates."

Barak glanced up at Tess, who winced at the command. He waited, unable to move, without Her Majesty's approval. When she had spoken, it was as if she had seen the depths of his soul. She had been correct when she spoke of his inaction. He could not do one more thing that would possibly make his Queen suffer even more.

Tess clenched her teeth, hating every minute of this. But her mother was right. "Do it."

Barak rose laborously, pausing as he tried to find his equilibrium, before dragging himself to the console and entering the complicated sequence of numbers and letters. Once he had entered the last number, Barak lifted his hand and rested it upon the lever to his left, glancing over his shoulder at the two women, leaders in their own right, watching his every move. "Are you ready?"

Tess turned her back on him, her eyes fixed above, upon the machine Khivar has imprisoned her son in. Oh God, let him be all right. Please.

Barak took a deep breath and lifted the lever, before pulling it all the way down.

A sudden gush of air rushed passed Tess, as if the machine was letting out an exhausted sigh, as she awaited her son. "Zander," she called out loudly. "Zander, I'm coming."

The belly of the beast overshadowed her, as it drew near, revealing its' truly stunning size and proportion. It was as if a cloak of darkness was settling upon the room, as if its mere presence drew the darkness unto itself. Tess rushed to her child's side. He was paler than she remembered, as she peered through the oblong window within the machine. "Mommy's here," she whispered, as if the loudness would wake the child. "Mommy's here, now."

"Surprised?" Max asked, as he lowered himself upon the balcony ledge. "Didn't think I would make it that easy, did you?"

"It is of no consequence if you are present for my coronation or not," Khivar scoffed, eyeing the golden symbol within his grasp, if he could distract Zan long enough. "I shall have revel in my victory soon enough."

"And who would you have to rule over?" he spat, motioning to the unconscious or dead bodies littering the palace grounds. "In your zealous madness, you've practically slaughtered the entire population of Antar!" Max could not believe what he was witness to. He had seen images of the Holocaust, thousands of men, women, and children slaughtered under the banner of genetic cleansing. But as he held the crown, it imbued him with the ability to see into his kingdom, where hundreds of thousands of people lay felled, as they had been only half a century ago on Earth.

"Temporary," Khivar chided, circling his enemy. "Even if some lives were lost, which was not the objective, there are other planets from which I can colonize."

"You make me sick," Max breathed. He had never felt such contempt and hatred for one person. As he stood once again, confronted by an enemy of the past, he began recalling the destruction he had wreaked on his people once before. Women's screams and the cries of small children rang in his ears. "And you will be stopped."

"It is a sweet sentiment, indeed," Khivar sneered, meeting Zan's gaze. "But it is one you will soon regret.

"You should have stayed on your filthy, uncivilized planet. At least then, you would have had a life to lead. Unfortunately this one you are parading in has already expired."

"I've only begun to show you what I can do," he said vehemently. "This will not end the same way, Khivar."

"Oh no?" Khivar laughed loudly. "Do you know where your heir lies?" he asked maliciously. "His fate will be yours."

"If you have touched a hair..."

"Touched? Oh Zan, you have no idea, do you?" Khivar approached Zan slowly, his gaze never leaving his enemy's. "Your son will be your undoing. He sees the truth of this all. He knows that I am a force to be reckoned with, and has aided me in your inevitable defeat."

Max glanced up at the tower, which overlooked the entire city. He could feel his son's presence there, even now. It was as if the crown heightened his every sense and the connection to every lifeforce on the planet.

"Yes, he is up there," Khivar said softly. "Lying on his deathbed."

Max felt his chest tighten. He knew what lies Khivar spoke held a grain of truth in it. He felt his son's lifeforce ebbing.

"Can you hear his voice? Crying out to the father he has never known?" Khivar could see his opponent's resolve weakening, his indignation and righteous posturing waning. "'Why has my father abandoned me?'" His voice imitating that of a child.

"Shut up." Max felt the anger welling up in him as Khivar spoke, taunting him.

"You do know you will lose? It is inevitable," he said matter-of-factly. "But, I can offer you this one consolation."

"I don't want to hear it," Max spat. "Nothing you have to say."

"Oh, in haste, in haste you speak, Zan." Khivar could feel the attachment the hybrid had for his young. "I offer you a consolation of sorts," he spoke slowly, forming a plan to easily neutralize the threat before him. "How can you refuse an offer of peace?"

"Offer of peace?" Max had never heard or seen such arrogance.

"Yes. My child, I am not unreasonable," he said calmly. "I understand the sense of loss that you feel. The pride that has been trampled upon, by my successful uprise against your tyrannical reign."

Tyrranical reign? Max had not realized how deluded the Iturian had become. Now he was rewriting history.

"But I offer you the life of your child," he said thoughtfully. "In exchange for the crown."

"W-what?" Max could not believe the gall the madman had, trading the life of his son for millions.

"Prove what a loving father you are to your child. Use whatever intelligence you have inherited from that haphazard genetic mixing by your architects and save your child."

"I will save my son, by killing you," he said coldly. "You see? Two birds with one stone."

"Was the galaxial shift too much for your hybrid mind?" Khivar asked curiously, tapping his bottom lip lightly. "Because if my calculations are correct, and my assessment of your child's failing health accurate - it is not an option."

"No," Max said darkly. "I will save my son from you."

"You see this as black and white, my dear Zan. But what you ought to see is the grey. Because," he paused a moment, "you have this idea allowing my rule over Antar is incomprehensible that you must choose to forsake your child's life to end mine. Which is not the case. You have two choices really. You can choose to stay here and attempt to kill me, therefore, letting your child die, and in the end, failing in your quest, already doomed from the start. All of this would have been for naught - your child's death meaningless. Or you could go to your child and use whatever powers you do have to heal him, leaving me to my devices." Stepping back, Khivar clapped his hands together and shook his head, as if there was really even a choice to make. "It seems quite obvious to me what your choice is."

After all he had been through to get here, Max now stood on the threshold of the foundation of kingdom. Would compassion reign - the love of a father be an excuse to set free Khivar to do his worst on his people? Max knew Khivar was right. Zander was dying. And the possibility of saving him wrenched at his heart. Could he not do both? Could he not save his son and save his people? His gaze rose towards the fading light that emanated from the tower. He hadn't even gotten the chance to know his son...

Michael felt the same wane in Nicholas' power as he had earlier, though this time even weaker than before. Without aforethought, he dropped to his knees, sweeping his right leg underneath Nicholas' feet, knocking him down for the count. As he waited for his chance, Michael spotted his staff in the possession of one of the unconscious soldiers. He dove for it, just as Nicholas regained his footing, grasping it with his left hand and rolling away from his enemy.

"No more head games, Nicholas," he sneered. With a quick press of a button, his baton morphed into a long staff. "This time, I win."

Nicholas focused on the same point of entrance he had gained into Rath's mind previously, only to find the way closed. In fact, he found himself unable to reach out at all with his powers. His mind raced, heart pounding, as he found himself defenseless. His eyes darted around for some sort of weapon. Only a few feet away was a plascer. If only I could reach...

Michael straightened his posture, more sure now than ever that Nicholas' body had been affected by Khivar's machine. And nothing gave him more delight that his downfall would be upon the innerworkings of his 'Master'. "Go ahead," he said confidently, as his gaze followed Nicholas' towards the small blaster weapon. "I haven't the heart to beat the living daylights out of an unarmed man."

Nicholas hesitated, his weight shifting back and forth, unable to discern whether the uncouth commander was speaking the truth. His life had depended upon his ability to read other people's minds, and now that it had suddenly vanished, he was left at his most vulnerable. He glanced over at his commander, who was engaged with the enemy. He betrayed me.

"Thinking less of your, Holy Commander, now?"

Nicholas' attention snapped back to Rath, who had begun his approach, weapon in hand. He shuffled over to the unconsicous soldier, grabbing the plascer firmly in hand, and pointing it at his enemy. Setting it to kill, Nicholas manuveured around his opponent. "You know nothing," he barked. "This was an oversight."

"You really are a sad pathetic excuse for a living being, aren't you?" Michael spun the long staff in his hand, positioning himself in a defensive stance.

"You are still so smug," Nicholas hissed. "But I still have the advantage."

"Oh?"

"Your short range weapon against my long range?" Nicholas shook his head and laughed at the incompetence of the Loyalist commander.

"We'll just have to see about that, won't we?"

Nicholas aimed the plascer at Rath, ready to be rid of the annoyance. "Goodbye, Rath." With that, he began a range of short wavelength bursts, towards Rath.

Michael held out his long staff, misdirecting several of Nicholas' attacks, while moving forward and closing the distance between him and his enemy. With fluidity, the practised stances, directed his every step, as he concentrated on avoiding or diverting the bright red bursts set to kill him.

Nicholas began backtracking, as his opponent seemed unfazed by the flurry of blasts he shot at him. It was like Rath knew where every blast was going to be directed. His eyes widened as the tall looming figure drew closer. As Rath was upon him, Nicholas spun around to flee, but he was trapped in by the marble railing of the balcony.

"Nowhere to run, nowhere to hide," Michael said darkly. "And it's time to pay the piper."

Nicholas pointed the plascer at him. There was no way to miss him now, at point blank range. "I think you overestimate me." With enthusiastic glee, he pressed the release on the plascer, expecting the red heat of the plasma to melt through the rugged officer.

Michael sidestepped the blast, while with a coinciding strike himself, extrapolated the plascer from Nicholas' grasp. "I don't think so," he breathed, spinning around with his long staff gracefully and assuredly striking its' mark. "This isn't going to be Khivar's day. Not again."

As he shackled Nicholas' hands and feet with the electric bands, Michael turned to the fray. His focus had not been the major fight, as he had been preoccupied with Nicholas, but it surprised him to see the two had not exchanged blows. He expected Max to come out guns blazing...Oh, who am I kidding? This is Max!

With the stealth of a predator, he approached the mastermind of this death knell. If Max could keep him distracted long enough...

"So have you chosen wisely? Or have you again let your pride get in the way?" Khivar asked knowingly. "Your puny claim to the throne or your son?"

Michael frowned. What was Khivar playing at?

"And trust you?" Max scoffed, though his gaze remained upon the tower. "Do you really think for a minute I'd trust you?"

"Trust me or not," Khivar snorted. "But either way, your son's death will then be on your head. I reiterate, it is your choice."

Oh God, no. Michael knew exactly what Khivar was doing. He watched Max's ridged body, fluxing between Khivar and Zander. He could not imagine what he was thinking. How could anyone make that choice?

"There is no choice," Max said grimly. Inside his heart was torn in two. He felt the pain wracking him, twisting his insides out. But there was no other choice.

"Go Max," Michael said, raising his hands and releasing a blinding blast towards Khivar.

Khivar stumbled, feeling his chest tighten and himself fall to his knees. He had been caught unawares. It was a first in little over a decade.

"Michael," Max breathed, glancing over to see a familiar face. "You're here."

"Don't I always have your back?" he replied, motioning towards the tower, as his eyes never left Khivar, who turned to meet his attacker. "You've got some unfinished business."

"Michael, you don't know the power..."

"I can handle it, Max," Michael grunted, focusing his energies for another blast. "Go look after Zander."

"You can't handle it on your own," Max protested, sensing the power that lay beneath the calm exterior of the bent, pale dictator. "I can't leave you to fight this on your own." He wished this was the answer, but it wasn't. He couldn't leave Michael to be murdered even at the expense of his own son.

"Well then how about leaving him to fight with us?" Isabel stepped out from behind the rich dark curtains that draped the balcony entranceway - Fadilia a step behind.

"How touching? A family reunion," Khivar sneered, rising to his feet. "I think I almost shed a tear."

"Go Max," Fadilia said hastily. "Before it is too late."

"But the celebration was just beginning," Khivar growled, raising a hand towards Zan. "And I would hate for you to miss the fire display." With that, he unleashed a torrent of energy, glowing a bright hellfire red.

Max quickly rose his hands, shielding himself from the blast. He was more powerful than Max had expected. Qunar's power did not even compare to that of Khivar's strength.

And he realized what a battle would be fought.

"Go Max!" Isabel hissed, as she walked onto the balcony.

In that moment, he had to have confidence that the choice he was making was the right one. Michael, Isabel, and Fadlilahad to be enough to fend off Khivar's advances until he returned. Please God, be with them. Protect them and our people - just a little while.

"Zander, baby," Tess cooed, as she stroked his weak arms from within the chamber. "I'm here. Please don't leave, Mommy. Stay here with me."

'Is he here yet?'

Tess furrowed her brow as he asked for the mystery man once more. It had been all he had been talking about. "No," she whispered, unable to figure out who he was speaking of. "Not yet, honey."

'Don't be angry,' he whispered silently. 'It's fine. It's quiet here.'

"No. No, no no," she cried, her eyes brimming with hot tears. "Please don't do this. Please don't leave me."

Andaria could do nothing but watch. It was the most heartwrenching sight she had ever witnessed. It was as if she were experiencing the loss of her own child all over again, except this time, she had to watch. She rushed alongside Tess, who was crumbling under the pressure and pain. Slipping her arms around her daughter's waist, Andaria did her best to hold Tess up. Oh Unseen One, give her strength.

'He has to come,' Zander said, reaching out into Tess' mind. 'He is near. I saw him. He will save us.'

"Who is this man?" she cried, unable to contain her anger and frustration. Tess could feel the labored breaths, as her son struggled for life. "Where is he?" If he could save her son, where was he?

"Tess," Andaria said soothingly. "He could be under delusions."

"He has been completely lucid under these conditions," Barak spoke up, "so to doubt what he has seen would be unlikely."

"What do you know about my son?" Tess screamed, turning to the interloper, with only Andaria to hold her back. "You put him here."

"But he would not allow my intervention," he breathed softly. "I...I would have helped...."

"But you did nothing!"

Barak lowered his head, unable to face his accuser. Maybe he had been foolish to follow the wishs of a mere child? Perhaps Zander had been mistaken? Perhaps his delusions of salvation and rest were as false as the man he cried out to?

"Where is he?"

This time the voice did not come from her son. Tess heard the urgent, clear voice of someone she had thought abandoned them long ago. "Max?" she gasped, trying to catch her breath in between sobs.

He sat balanced upon the window ledge, as if some superhero from an Earth comic book, without the costume.

'I knew he would come,' Zander sighed. 'I knew.'

Max jumped from the window ledge and rushed to Zander's side. He was smaller than he imagined. There were purple and green tubes running throughout his body. "Z-Zander?" Whiter than the crisp, clean sheets he lay upon, the child shuddered. This was his son.

"Max, you have to heal him," Tess cried, clinging to his arm. "He's dying. He won't say anything else."

He was stunned. Khivar had put his son through this agony and torment. Max closed his eyes. I put him through this agony and torment. I sentenced him to this kind of death.

"Max!" Tess grabbed the man she had believed was her life's breath and forced him to look her in the eye. "This is not a time for self-reflection or self-recrimination," she spat. "You are here for one thing, and one thing alone - and that is to save my son."

Without another word, Max placed his hand upon his son's chest, which was no larger than the width of his hand, and closed his eyes, energy flowed through every part of him, but that would not be enough. From the depths of his soul, his love for this child that had only been a mere seed until now, overflowed, filling his entire being, summoning a surge of power into Zander's body.

As Max was waiting for the power to abate, something happened that had never occurred in all of the times he had healed before - the memories of his patient, his son, rose to the surface. From the cold reality of birth, to the strong warm bondage of swaddling cloths, he saw and heard every word that was spoken to Zander. Images of Tess' loving face were constant until jarring flashes overwhelmed him - sterile, masked strangers, pinpicks, being poked and prodded - Max felt the horrific pain that was induced. Oh God, how could anyone do something so horrible?

Tess ran her fingers through her hair, waiting with bated breath for any sign of life. Max was in a trance, unlike anything she had witnessed previously. The contorted expressions revealed pain; from what, she had no idea. "Max," she said, shaking him gently. "Max!"

Andaria's gaze never left Zander's heaving body. There seemed to be an ease in his breathing, some color returning to his ashen body; but there was some ill-tiding over this child. In the deepest part of her, she had this nagging feeling that there was still something more for this child to endure before he could rest.

'Barak,' his small voice beckoned.

'Yes?'

'There is one more task left for you.'

Barak understood the child's request. It seemed absurd at this point, but he would obey. The Royal family seemed occupied with the child, which made his exit much simpler. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw something that had only been a child's tale now come to life - the reunion of the Royal family. Queen Fadilia had spoken of this day. He remembered listening in rapt attention as she stood in front of the whole assembly at Mount Freiweils. It seemed like a fairy tale. But now.... If there is an Unseen, please guide this to a victorious end.

"Are you really here?" Michael asked, blinking several times, unable to comprehend Max and Isabel's arrival. Even though he saw Max, part of him did not think it was real. He saw them, but it seemed like a dream.

"Yes," Fadilia breathed. "They are here. And as was prophecied so long ago, the Four returned to reclaim Antar and restore peace and justice to its people."

"Oh, but you have left me out of this," Khivar pouted, feigning child-like offense. "But let me just inform you that you will not make that mistake soon enough. Prophecy or not, I will reign supreme."

"Always the overbearing kind, Khivar." Isabel set her sights on the cause of all her sorrow.

"Vilandra," he growled with a smile. "Lovely as always. It is good to see your return; however, late in coming it may be."

"I don't go by that name anymore," she spat, stepping forward. "So don't speak to me like you even know me."

"But I do," Khivar said darkly. "Your innermost being, your soul, belonged to me."

"Not back then, not ever," Michael said angrily, grabbing Isabel's wrist, hindering her from getting any closer to their enemy.

"You have no idea what she gave me," Khivar leered at Michael, briefly glancing at Isabel, with a smile playing on his lips. "Our love affair belonged in the annals of Eshtari and beyond."

Isabel could not believe the charming tale he wove. She expected that was how the wretched man had 'convinced' an entire race to follow him. As Vilandra, she never saw the ease at which he manipulated her, gained her trust and brought upon herself and those she loved, destruction. "You played on the dreams of an innocent girl," Isabel said with disdain. "Propping yourself as some 'savior', when in fact you were the devil incarnate."

"Your reign will end before new day's light," Fadilia spoke, coming up along side her daughter. "You've used the powers the Unseen has granted you for power, wealth, and fame, incurring upon His people only suffering and oppression."

"Enough from your self-proclaimed oracle," dismissed Khivar, irritated at such faith in a god that had been silent for generations. "I looked forward to dismantling Zan piece by piece, but it seems that I will have the double pleasure of seeing you suffer as well." He turned to Fadilia, the thorn in his side since the Royal Fours' deaths. "And watching you die, will be the ring around Xio's moon."

"Don't you threaten her," Isabel barked, stepping in front of her mother. "You will deal with me first."

"Nothing would bring me more pleasure."

"Isabel," Michael hissed, not liking where this was going.

"Stay out of this Michael," she warned without a glance. Fixating her gaze upon her enemy, Isabel studied the man whom Vilandra had worshipped. He had aged somewhat, but remained almost handsome in appearance. At this moment, she could not remember why Vilandra had fallen for him. "You, took everything from us - in Vilandra's lifetime, as well as mine."

Qunar failed doubly. Khivar had sent him to banish the remaining duo into Volos' abyss. But instead, he assumed the general had himself been banished, awakening within the two Royals, a sentimental desire to reclaim their predecessors' birthright. "You will learn soon enough that within a few decades I have changed more than you realize," he said coyly. "I am no longer the Khivar you remember."

"Ditto," she spat. "But enough talking." She walked towards him cautiously, her hands resting at her sides while she began pooling her powers.

Michael watched as she walked straight into his trap without a thought. He glanced over at Khivar, who was prepared to strike out at a moment's notice, and knew their enemy was lulling Isabel into a sense of security - making her believe that she knew him in a sense, by drawing her into their past.

Haunting images of the past filled her every thought as she circled Khivar. All of the men she had cared about, whom she could have had a life with, dead. Fresh in her mind were two - Alex and Jesse. They were innocents - as she had once been.

'But this is not about revenge,' a silent voice chided.

She gritted her teeth, willing it away. Isabel did not want a lecture right now. She was clear; her husband would be avenged as well as those whose lives had been so thoughtlessly cast aside.

"Isabel!" Michael lunged forward, grabbing her wrist and pulling as hard as he could. She stumbled slightly, her back arching, as the red blast grazed her free arm. His breath came hard, as he tried not to think about what could have just happened to her.

"Oh my..." Isabel breathed, as Michael spun her around until she was safely resting in his arms. Wide-eyed, her mind was racing a mile-a-minute. She was distracted, and Khivar took every advantage of that. "Michael, I..."

"You are unfocused and wreckless," he said under his breath, his eyes never leaving his enemy. Khivar slowly nodded his approval at Michael's quick reflexes. "And that just about got you killed."

Isabel knew he was right. Her thoughts had consumed with hate and revenge - making her distracted and more a target than an opponent. "I'm sorry."

"This isn't the time to be sorry," Michael said pointedly, meeting her dejected gaze. "We are in a fight for our lives. There are no games here Isabel. This isn't about you or what he did to any of us."

He hated being so harsh. But there was no time to nurse wounds.

"I know," she whispered, turning around to face Khivar. No longer did she see the man who murdered her husband and her best friend. Standing in front of her was the man who killed many women's husbands, countless friends and family members. "This is about justice."

'Yes,' the soft voice whispered. 'Justice.'

"He's breathing," Tess cried, clinging to Max's arm. "He looks better. Doesn't he look better, Mother?" She glanced anxiously at Andaria, who seemed to nod in approval. "You did it, Max. He said you would come...and you did. You came."

Max looked down at Tess, who was hovering over their child. He was a strong one. The images he had seen, he did not know how someone so small could endure so much and survive. "He is strong like his mother," Max whispered. It was as he were seeing her for the first time. Zander had revealed so much of their struggle here on Antar. "J-Just like his mother."

"Max, he's gonna make it," Tess spoke confidently. "He's a survivor."

He glanced over at Andaria, whose expression was anything but confident. Worry creased her brow, as she watched her daughter with her grandchild. And for the first time, Max studied his son. His color had returned slightly; his breathing was less labored. But he saw for the first time the condition his son was in. Only a miracle will save him now.

Zander opened his lips, letting out a soft cry, that pierced his soul. It was a heartfelt wail he had never thought he would hear. For weeks and months he had tried to forget his son, but the memory of that first contact always lingered in the back of his mind. Now he stood in the same room, his son crying out to him. He felt a lump develop in his throat, his eyes beginning to brim with tears.

"You are going to live, Zander," Tess whispered happily, as if the hand squeezing at her heart had suddenly disappeared. Reaching down, her fingers caressed his cool forehead. He had been the most beautiful thing she had ever laid eyes on. And when she thought that out of all that turmoil came this one perfect gift....

"What about Khivar?" Andaria's eyes widened as she regained some amount of composure. "You just left him?" she asked fearfully. "He must have finished the coronation rites by now!"

"He knows you're here?" Tess asked tersely.

"Yes," he answered Tess before turning to Andaria. "And he is not alone."

"Michael," Tess breathed, her eyes darting to the turret window. There were no signs of fire or smoke. Her heart began to race. What if he's hurt? "You left Michael alone with Khivar?"

She did not know if she agreed with that decision. As much as Michael remembered, and had grown in skill at using his powers, Tess knew that he alone was not going to stop Khivar.

"No," Max replied calmly. "Not alone."

"General Steren? Did he manage to avoid the blast?" Andaria asked.

"No," he said, keeping an eye on Zander. "Isabel came with me. She's here on Antar."

"Isabel...," Tess said, her voice trailing off. She glanced up at her mother, who seemed pleasantly shocked at the revelation. "W-We're all here?"

"Tess," he breathed, lowering his gaze, as the memory of his words and past actions flashed before him. "I-I am...I was a fool."

As he stood before her, Tess found herself in a moment she never thought would happen. His dark brown eyes gazed down at her, not full of the loathing or confusion, as they once had; but she saw compassion and understanding. Max had finally understood the magnitude of what they had been called to, purposed for. "M-Max," she whispered, as she fought back the tears that were forming. "You don't have to say..."

"Yes," he interrupted, unable to stomach the absolution she was about to grant him. "Yes, I do."

Tess reached up to touch his cheek, hesitating for a moment, unsure of what she felt. They had been through so much. There had been a time where she never wanted to see him again after he chose Liz again. But here she was again - her heart wide open. It was the gift Zander had given to her. He had such faith in his father. How can I not hope?

Unexpectedly, a high-pitched siren pierced the healilng silence.

Max spun around, his eyes searching the room for the cause, when he heard Tess' cry.

"Zander!" She had only turned away for a moment. But suddenly, Tess was faced with the spastic convulsions of her son. "What's happening?" she cried, her hands hovering frantically over her child. Her hands were shaking. "What's happening?"

"His vitals are failing," Andaria said gravely, as she rushed to the architect's consoles. She located Zander's vital signs quickly, as the white line jumped erratically. "His pulse is weak and unstable."

Max placed his hand on his son's frail body, his first thought was to attempt to heal him again, and summoned his power from deep within, preparing to pour his remaining storage into his son. "Zander, don't leave before I've gotten the chance to know you."

'No.'

Suddenly Max felt himself knocked back, as if his powers had been stifled - the pathway blocked from being released. He slid back a few feet across the room, but uninjured.

"Zander," Tess exclaimed, unable to catch Max in time. "What are you doing?"

'You have to go,' he said, his voice small and faint. 'Now.'

This wasn't happening. Her son was not allowing himself to die. Tess shook her head in disbelief and confusion. "No," she said under her breath. "You're not doing this. I am your mother, Zander. You will listen to me." She leaned down, her lips by her son's ear. "You are not doing this."

'The prophecy must be fulfilled,' he said, ignoring her commands. 'And I...'

Tess glanced over at Max, who seemed aware of her son's mental projections, as he rose to his feet. He rushed over to their son's prison/cradle. "What is he doing?" he asked fearfully.

"I don't..."

The high pitch alarm played one note - a haunting, painful sound.

"H-He's..." Andaria could not find the words. She leaned against the console, unable to bear up under the weight of reality.

Max stared down at their son; he never imagined it could happen so fast. Zander's eyes dulled, as if sinking into a dark void, until all Max could see was black. The faint pulse that echoed in his ears faded; and silence filled its' place.

"What?" Tess spun around to face her mother, whose figure was slumped, as if in physical pain. "He's what?" she screamed angrily, though her heart already spoke the words she refused to hear.

"He's...go-." Andaria felt the silence swallow her voice, as her vocal cords contracted on itself.

Tess shook her head. It wasn't true. It can't be. This was some kind of lie.

"I am sorry, Tess," Andaria whispered, finally regaining some composure. She gently placed her hands upon her daughter's shoulders, rubbing them lightly, as if that could somehow displace some of the pain.

"Max?" She looked up at him hopefully - not beyond begging - for some assurance.

His hand lay upon his son's chest. It had just stopped moving. There was no life - no breath left inside. "I-I...." He could not find the words. His heart felt like it was being torn from his chest. It beat erratically, as if his brain could not function enough to produce a regular pulse.

"Max." Tess felt the blood drain from her face. Her shoulders fell, the tension, the hope, in her body all fell away. "You can help him," she said, her voice barely audible. "Please."

He did not know how he could look her in the eye after this. The hope still remained in her voice, though fading quickly; she willed him to produce a miracle. And that was not what he did. It was the only thing his power and destiny did not ordain. Alex knew that well enough...and now so did his son.

"He cannot help him now," Andaria said, pulling her daughter away from him. "The Unseen has set Zander's path; and we must be strong enough to let him go."

Tess closed her eyes, trying hard to shut out the sound of her mother's voice. This wasn't happening. I will open my eyes and Zander will be looking up at me with his beautiful blue eyes, and everything will be all right. Everything's going to be all right. She opened her eyes, turning her gaze towards the black cradle, to see Zander's eyes staring up blankly at her. Suddenly her stomach rolled and churned, and she felt her head grow light and the room began to spin. "No," she gasped. "I've lost....everything."

Max quickly stepped up behind her in time to catch her limp body. He felt numb, his own head spinning just a little, as he tried to keep Tess from falling to the ground. "Tess," he breathed. "Oh God, what did I do?"

Darkness threatened to envelop her. Struggling to make sense of what had just happened. She came with the best of intentions. She was in 'the Unseen's' will, according to those who believed; so what had she done wrong? Tess groaned, unable to comprehend the possible reason for her son's death. Everyone, including herself, had bought into this destiny. The word made her want to gag.

She replayed her every move and decision. Of course there had been mistakes; she hadn't intended for there to be casualties as she fought her way back to Antar, but she knew there might be.

'And you were supposed to be immune to those fatalities?' a silent unfamiliar voice asked darkly. 'You know who is responsible.'

God. This one they called 'Unseen'. Suddenly she was overwhelmed by wave after wave of pure anger and hatred for this deity who took her son away from her. He was responsible for it all.

They kept telling her to trust. All she had to do was trust that He knew what he was doing. Trust you? How could I ever...

Andaria watched the shocked and stunned faces of her 'children'. Her mind raced with endless possible things to say to bring them comfort. But of course there were none. She moved to comfort them, when suddenly a loud crack filled the room, and a brilliant rainbow of colors illuminated the tower. Flinching, Andaria shielded her eyes from the light that intruded upon this delicate moment. Its' source was not from the room itself. Instead, the light show traversed into the dark room through the turret window.

Max spun around, puling Tess along with him, to the spectacle. "What's happening?" he exclaimed anxiously. His thoughts now turned to the only thing that could cause such a massive explosion.

Michael? Tess' thoughts seemed to find its way out of the muddle that it was neck-high in and focus on the present. They were still in the middle of waging a war. She glanced over her shoulder to Zander - a casualty of the alien 'thing' (no, he was no man) - before turning back to the battle being diligently fought by Michael, Isabel and Fadilia.

She would have no confrontation with this unseen deity, who orchestrated the mockery that was her life; but Khivar, he had been this deity's instrument. He is the hand of this unseen god. And then an unexpected calm filled her heart. She would have her vengence against this monster. There would be justice on Antar tonight.

"We have to help them," Max blurted out to Tess.

"I know," she said calmly.

He grabbed her shoulders and spun her around until her gaze met his. For he was not sure she could do this, not after what had happened with Zander. "Are you all right?" Max asked concernedly. The usually fiery blue eyes had become cold and dull. "You..."

"No," Tess said forcefully, pulling away from his touch. It was as if it burned her now. "I am fine."

Andaria watched how calm her daughter had become and it filled her with sudden dread. "Do not leave like this," she said softly, stepping up alongside Max. "You cannot face him through this confusion."

"Don't you see mother," she said, her voice echoing with a haunting tone. "This is my destiny."

It sent a chill down Andaria's spine. This is not what the Unseen intended, is it? She could not lose her daughter a second time, could she?

Max glanced up at Andaria, whose eyes were pleading for him to intervene. He opened his mouth to speak, but she walked away, back to Zander's cradle. It was like Tess didn't even see him.

"Don't worry, darling," she cooed, sweeping the soft wisps from his forehead. "I will see you soon. Khivar will understand what you went through. He will feel what you felt and much more."

"Tess," Max said, reaching out to her.

"Time to go, Max." Her voice was almost robotic.

He watched as she turned her back on him and walked purposefully out of the room. An unfamiliar coldness emanating from her. It was like watching the walking dead.

"Max!" Andaria grabbed him by the arm and looked him in the eyes. "Do not let her go to that place," she hissed, pulling him in closer. "She is my daughter. Do not make me lose her twice."

"I know." It was all he could say. They had a battle to fight and every second counted. There was already so much at stake, even without Andaria explaining that to him.

God, I can't see. I can't see what you're doing. Max could not understand. He had answered his call to destiny, but he did not understand why his son was sacrificed. Don't make me regret this. Don't make me hate you for this.

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