He ducked under a large grey beam, his arm curling around it for support as he maneuvered over top of mounds of debris. The console was several feet away, with something like a metal cage made unexpectedly from fallen beams melted by the heated energy blasts that had been produced within these walls, imprisoning it protectively. It was dark in the room even though there was a large opening in the tower's pointed ceiling; the room was shrouded in darkness from the vast network of beams and stonework looming above. Barak fingered the thin fibre-optic disc, protected only by a thin skin-covering, which he had tucked in the folds of his uniform, as he neared the console. 'This task I entrust you with, will be your last. No more masks, my friend; no more watching as those you care about are hurt.' Those words had haunted him as the matured voice of the child heir described the disc in detail to him, and where to find it. He could not help Zander escape death, but he would help the last remnants of the Kedran descendants escape the same curse.

'Before the last strike, place the disc within the console and enter the code etched upon the covering. Then you will finally be free of your burden.' Barak lifted the disc to eye level and examined the small, yet dense object. This is supposed to strike at the heart of Khivar's plan?

Slipping off the cover, Barak carefully searched the console for an opening match the size and width of the disc. Everything was in shambles, he would have been surprised if anything on this console worked at all. But who was he to question the instructions he had received? However in that moment something brilliant caught his eye in the midst of the dark, a shard of metal glinted in the sunlight for just a moment, causing him to inspect it further; his fingers ran over the console, the pads of the tips rising as the smooth buttons intervened along its' journey. At the end of the console, after lifting up the metallic sheet that rested upon the corner, he brushed off the dust that had collected during this long night. Suddenly during a sweep upwards, Barak felt a sliver of an opening underneath his fingertips jarring the smooth hand gesture.

Excitedly Barak quickly brushed more decisively in that one area, seeing the narrow sliver of an opening that matched the size and width of the disc in his possession. He slid the covering off of the disc, and after admiring one last time, Barak slowly began to place the disc inside the slot.

"No!" a small hoarse voice cried.

Barak jumped as he felt something grapple his ankle, causing his hand to falter and the disc to slip out of his hand. He fumbled nervously, holding his breath as he focused upon the swirling disc flip-flopping under his clumsy grasp. When Barak had the disc firmly in his grasp again, he glanced down to ascertain who was trying to hinder the last task he had been given. "By Celestia!" he breathed aloud, his heart racing after being startled in such a manner. "Who is there?"

"Do not use that forbidden tool!" the voice rasped again.

The voice came from below. Frowning Barak looked down at his feet and lying there was the upper portion of a pale, half-robed figure. His face was covered in grey soot, a contrast to his piercing green eyes which gazed up at him in fear. "Why do you say this?" Barak asked gravely. "What do you know about this item, a secret which has been so well kept? Tell me!"

"Architect Benshu. I was one of His Majesty's servants. You do know he will have your head for stealing away such thing," he warned, unable to hide the fear in his voice. "It was never to be seen, let alone used by anyone. How is it you came by it?" His tone was demanding.

"Do you know who I am?" A dawn of recognition fell upon the man's face. "I will ask the questions!" Barak barked, using a tone that was second nature to him - part of his facade. "If it not to be used, then why was it conceived?" Barak was growing more curious. He knew he should not tarry in completing his task, but he wanted to know more about it - what its' power was over Khivar. "What power does this insignificant disc yield?"

"Commander, you...more than anyone should understand the pains Khivar has taken to ensure the birth of a new nation - a new world - for faithful servants such as we," he croaked. "Do not do such a foolish thing. I do not know where you found the Alpha disc, but destroy it."

"I am not foolish," Barak said, kneeling at the architect's head. He bent down further until his eyes met the dying Iturian's imploring gaze. "Khivar, would be impressed at your faithfulness, even upon your deathbed." The dry, chapped lips managed a satisfied smile. "I do, however, feel it necessary to inform you, Architect Benshu, that you are very much misled." The Iturian frowned, unable to muster enough strength to form the words that would draw the answers he desired. "No, do not try to speak." Barak patted his hand comfortingly. "I only offer you these words of wisdom that Khivar failed to heed..."

"What...?" The architect's voice was ravaged by breathing in the dust that had settled upon him. Though words left him, the expression of confusion spoke volumes. Barak knew his behavior was puzzling to the architect who had obviously heard of the 'small victories' which Barak had provided Khivar which had led to Khivar's army gaining the upper hand on the Royal Four.

"Keep your matwua close." The architect looked confused. "Would it surprise you, my friend, that I am disgusted by our fair leader and king?" he asked, a trace of bitterness laced his words. "That every moment I spent with Khivar, knowing that my every effort led him closer to victory and the death of hundreds if not thousands of my people, made my skin crawl?" He bent down further, his lips almost touching Benshu's ear. "I loathe the Monster whom I have served."

Benshu's bright eyes widened in abject horror of this revelation.

"Yes," Barak said, sitting on his laurels. "I played my role convincingly, do you not agree?" He saw the gears grinding in the old man's head. The architect was taking his time putting together the pieces of what he was saying. "My blood is Kedran, pure as the moon's rays."

"Y-Y-You..." The dying man's body started to heave and then convulse.

"Yes," Barak smiled, meeting his enemy's raging gaze. "I am in his true Majesty's army! I am Kedran through and through."

"N-No!" Benshu cried, though the word seemed more like a sound born from the bowels of Volos.

"I suffered much as I watched my kinsmen tortured at the hands of Khivar's men," he whispered, rising to his feet, though lost more in his own thoughts now. The first time he watched someone he had known as a child tortured until his death had scarred him for life. Yet there was no time for remorse, grieving or mourning. He had a mission. "There are things you cannot even quite comprehend until you have seen them with your own very eyes. How could someone who is not part of your flesh, cause such physical pain?" He spun around and looked up at the Iturian, who seemed to be seething with hatred and resentment towards him and his thoughts. "You and your kind, under Khivar's commands have wrought more pain and death than is right and just." The man turned away from Barak, refusing to participate in his attempt to open the architect`s eyes to his place in their world`s chaos. Barak fell to his knees and forced Benshu to look at him.

"You do not get to look away, faithful servant to Khivar," he said through gritted teeth. "You look into me and see the horror I see. You have only one chance to show remorse, Architect Benshu." There was silence and a devoid expression in the man's face. He did not show empathy nor did he seem to understand regret. Releasing his face, Barak wiped the hand that held his face upon his pants, as if signifying to his enemy he had enough.

"T-The s-son of a gaar-rish," he coughed. "Always a son of a gaarish."

"You think you have the last word, my friend?" Barak bellowed, spinning around to face his captive audience. In his hand he fingered the disc in front of him for Benshu to see. "Oh, how wrong you are." Without another word, he slipped the disc into the waiting slot and held his breath for what was to come.

"What are you doing here?" Khivar demanded, landing atop of Pilan's pinnacle. He did not expect to see Barak within the chamber walls of his creation. And for a moment he thought he saw something flicker brightly upon the console before turning his attentions to one of his remaining commanders.

"It doesn't matter," Max declared gravely, quickly slipping into the tower chamber after Khivar. "Your time has come Khivar. Your power is weakening and there is nowhere left for you to run away to."

"I was not running away from you, you misguided fool!" Khivar glowered, looking down upon his soon-to-be prey. "I came here to end this, once and for all." Within a blink of an eye, he hopped down from Pilan and flew towards the console.

"Not without a fight." Max released a blast of energy towards Khivar, who ducked just in time; however it caused him to veer from his flightpath. With a quick adjustment, he let go of another blast, this time knicking Khivar in the leg. "This time it's going to be different."

Barak glanced at the thin line upon the console that had enveloped the disc; there was much commotion in the already crumbling tower and the energy blasts flew without hesitation. He tried to avoid the wreckage that was falling in around him. In his hand was the protective covering that held the Alpha disc as Benshu had referred to it. Glancing over his shoulder, Barak saw Khivar hedging his way over to the console inch by inch. He didn't have much time. Searching the almost translucent covering for the entry code to activate whatever program was inlaid upon this disc. It was difficult to see under this lighting and the dust particles floating around in the atmosphere. The covering held nothing. He could see no code to enter. What am I going to do? He looked at the fight between Zan and Khivar, how it was growing more desperate and frantic with each passing parsec. This was a task he could not fail.

It had been a while since Khivar had been injured; and the trickle of blood that was seeping through the hem of his uniform made him mortally aware of just how vulnerable he was now. Even as he fought Zan, his eye was always upon the console. It was his hope of regaining the power he had only minutes previously. "Barak, start the console," he barked his orders, while trying to evade Zan's attacks. "And enter the code I dictate."

Barak searched frantically across the board, trying to find the power switch. He was not about to enter the code Khivar gave him, but at least it gave him an excuse to be using the console at all. "A light, I need a light," he exclaimed, as the brilliant thought came to mind. "I cannot see a thing."

Max glanced over at Barak, the man who had claimed to be a Loyalist; and was there when his child died. A fury swelled up inside him. I should have never trusted him. Without another thought he released a bolt of energy at the tall traitor. However his aim was off and the Antarian managed to duck, leaving a scalding glowing ball of energy pulsing within the stone wall behind him. "Damn it!" he cried, turning around and refocusing his energy on Khivar. Now was not the time to lose Khivar, not when he was on the run. Without another thought he released another energy blast at Khivar, who managed to muster enough energy to throw a few blasts of his own.

Barak's heart was racing as Zan had barely missed his head, not without a lack of trying. Nevertheless he could not reveal to Zan that he was indeed on his side, that this was just a ruse to keep Khivar from turning his attentions to him and the task he had been entrusted with, even if that meant taking risks and dodging infrequent attacks from his king. He was, however, grateful for the energy blast that was glowing above him, which allowed him to search even more carefully through the folds of the covering for the entry code.

"Entry code, 2-3-7-5-Alpha-Brego," Khivar yelled, dancing away from the heavy blasts coming his way. How things had managed to change within minutes...

Turning the covering inside out, in the dimness of the fading energy blast sinking into darkness, Barak found the code delicately etched on the raised edge. 1-2-4-7-Alpha-Omega.

"Enter it!" Khivar raged as he flew above one of Zan's closest blasts yet, singeing the cuff of his sleeve. "Now, amadan!"

Max landed upon the ground unable to remain in the air because of the falling debris caused by his attacks. This was fine because Khivar apparently couldn't sustain the higher ground as well. Running towards his enemy he launched himself upon him, wanting so much to physically feel flesh on flesh - the pleasure of repaying a little of the pain that this madman had inflicted upon him and his friends and family. "You will pay for all of this," he cried out in anger, yet he felt hot tears running down his cheeks.

Khivar felt the full weight of the human body flying at him. Momentarily he found his guard down, not expecting this kind of animalistic attack. He felt the hard crunch of Zan's fist making contact against his face. It was disgusting; and for this reason alone, Khivar knew why he had been given the charge of overruling the old system guard. Grappling with Zan and his angry fists, Khivar twisted to his left and then used that sudden shift of momentum to throw the lunatic off of him. He watched as Zan's body landed heavily upon the jagged rock and stones. Good. He was stunned; and in that moment, Khivar raced to the console. "Is it ready?" he asked demandingly.

Barak spun around quickly to see Khivar at his side, his glazed eyes frantic and eager. He had managed to enter the code that he had found upon the protective covering; all he had to do was inject the power supply into the console. "Khivar!"

"Is it ready?"

Barak glanced over Khivar's shoulder to see Zan's shadowy outline lying upon the rubble. He was, for the moment, unable to continue the fight. Suddenly Barak found himself standing upon the precipice of all his training, and the fulfillment of his mission. Since the day he approached the Age of Volition, he knew that the General and Queen Mother Fadilia had been planning something for him. It had been an honor to be entrusted with this task, since his lineage had been less than honorable. However, never in his darkest imaginings would he have believed the things he had been forced to witness and even participate in. "Yes, M'Lord," he breathed, the words coming out almost effortlessly.

"Good," Khivar growled gleefully. He turned and faced the soldier whom he had taken in, molded, and mentored longer than he could almost count on two hands. Though he trusted no one, Khivar felt Barak was more a kindred spirit than even his subservient Nicholas, who did everything at his beck and call. "You, have proved worthy of my notice, Barak. I will remember you." His fingers rested upon the console's power injectors, the bright green light pulsing underneath the glass platelet.

Barak smiled politely, as if he held high honor the compliment that the dictator had just paid him, and held his breath waiting for what had been promised - an end to the war. "Thank you, M'Lord."

Khivar pressed his fingertips into the touch-sensitive console. Sliding his fingertips, he could hear the whirring of the generators and slow release of the power supply slowly seeping into the dark black monster that loomed over them all. His heart raced, excited at the sight of his brainchild breathing life again. Just once more. That is all I need.

"Your Majesty!" a ragged muffled voice cried out. "Stop! You must stop!"

Khivar frowned, his eyes darting around the room trying to locate the source of the command. "Who dares speaks to me this way?" he raged.

"Your Majesty, you are betrayed. You..." he coughed, "you are betrayed to the Alpha unit."

Khivar followed the voice to the pile of rubble a few feet from the console. With a wave of his hand several rocks flew to the opposite side of the room. "Who are you?" he questioned suspiciously. "Speak your name."

"Architect Benshu," he whispered.

Ba-rak's eyes widened. The old man lived. He felt his heart pounding against his chest. He glanced over to the site of where Zan's body still lay. He could not tell if he was conscious or not. Get up. Get up now! He turned and saw Khivar leaning over the old man's body, his ear to the man's moving lips. There was no time. Placing his fingers upon the console, he accelerated the rate of injection. The generators roared to life and the flush of energy rumbled through the thick cables that breathed life into the large hand of death.

"What are you doing?" Khivar demanded, spinning around to see his servant hovering over the console. "Who gave you the order to engage the power injectors?"

"Your Majesty," Barak swallowed hard, trying to keep a level head while answering his Commander. He knew if Khivar smelled fear, it would be the end of him. "I had to act fast." He glanced down at Benshu, whose head lay resting in Khivar's hands. "I believe Zan is awakening."

Khivar glanced over in the general area, where he had left Zan's unconscious body. There was no movement that he could see. He glanced down at Architect Benshu, who had tried to warn him against something, but he could not make out the words before the roar of the generators filled the room. "I see nothing."

"My apologies, M'King." Suddenly a loud gasping came from Benshu and the old man began to convulse. He felt a wave of excitement. The old man may not have the time to reveal his secret. Barak stepped forward, pasting a look of concern upon his face, "Is there anything I can do?"

"Unless you have the ability to heal, no," Khivar said stiffly. Moments ago, he had felt confident and at rest in Barak's presence; but now he only felt unease. His gaze trailed to the console and then to Barak. "You entered the code I dictated, did you not?"

"Yes, my King," Barak said, feigning shock and confusion. "I did exactly as you ordered."

Khivar glanced down at the old man who lay in his arms. The man could have been a raving lunatic for all he knew. Years of trusted service and fealty had brought Barak into his inner circle, of which there were few. Was he supposed to throw that away at the raving accusation of this architect?

"Pilan is almost ready," Barak gestured to the bright red eyelets opening in the darkness, as if awaking from a deep slumber. "Then what should have been decades ago, shall come to pass."

"What?" Khivar asked distractedly, rising to his feet, staring at the beauty of his machination. Barak placed his fingers upon the weak pulse of the dying architect. He would not have time to reveal his betrayal. This was destiny. It had been planned since the last days of the Golden Ages.

"BE-TRAYER!" Benshu bellowed alarmingly,is piercing green eyes bulging wide as his cry filled the tower chamber. Then taking one last gasp he fell silent - death taking him.

Khivar spun around in time to see Benshu's feeble finger pointing at Barak, whose usually solemn expression was grave. The commander who had risen the ranks at an impressive rate met his gaze; where Khivar had expected pride and the same coldness he had come to expected from one of his commanders, he saw something else. It was a moment's flicker, but it was there. Fear.

"You?" Khivar said in disbelief and shock as he watched the soldier rise to his feet. "You have betrayed me? Why?" The shock was wearing off and a new emotion bubbled to the surface. Rage.

"Why?" Barak rose slowly to his feet and stared at the man who had been the reason for all of the horrible things he had done. For the first time he was able to honestly look Khivar in the face and not pretend that he worshipped the ground he walked on. "Because orders are orders," he said dryly, his gaze level with the madman who had proclaimed himself 'God'. "And I always follow orders."

This infuriated Khivar and though he had hardly any reserve left, he had to teach this traitor - spy - a lesson. With a swift wave of his hand, Barak flew into the air and crashed up against a large metal beam. He felt the core of his vertabrae crack as his body fell splayed across the floor. He groaned and found himself unable to move.

"You truly prove the adage, 'Once Kedran swine, always Kedran swine'." Khivar bent down, balancing upon the balls of his feet and hovered over the half-conscious excrement that lay before him. "For one parsec I thought perhaps one could reform a Kedran, but you have changed my mind. I see your kind is useful for nothing than mindless labor," he chuckled, shaking his head. "Which I will gladly do in your memorial, Barak. All will know the cruel hand that chokes the life out of their bodies belongs truly to you."

"It is not in the Plan," Barak gasped, coughing and spitting out blood. "I have seen..." He was holding out hope that he could stall Khivar long enough - before he realized he had interfered with Pilan's programming.

"Have seen what?" Khivar scoffed, glancing around the room. He gestured to the broken figure laying in the rumble to the east of him. "Once Pilan has finished its' designed deed, I will once again thrive. I will finally put an end to all of this doubting, especially the rumors that were bred from your kind." He spat the last word with vehemence.

Staring into Khivar's vengeful eyes, he knew he did not have to worry about his former 'Master' discovering the Alpha disc in time.

Suddenly the tower filled with an intense red light, sitting in the crux of the oversized black hand hanging over them. The red eyelets began to pulse, in a sequential pattern. As the loud hum of the generators filled each of their ears, the pulse of the flashing red lights became more rapid and intense. Khivar felt the energy surge, as if one with the heart of his brainchild, and cried out in exhilaration.

Barak felt his own body begin to have its' own physical reaction. Though the machine had not reached its' peak and released whatever havoc that had been planned, he felt this connection with it as well. Part of him feared it. Previously, Pilan had emitted an intense blast that seeped into his body, rendering him almost paralyzed. Barak had thought he would perish. What it brought the second time around, even with the Alpha disc and its' unknown programming, was still shrouded in mystery. Will I live to see the new day?

"Unfortunately," Khivar laughed excitedly, spinning around to face the enemy within his ranks. "You will not be here to witness it." He stretched out the palm of his hand and focused upon it with a strange intensity. A sudden red blaze ignited in his palm, slowly but steadily expanding until it enveloped his hand entirely. "Good-bye, Barak."

Barak closed his eyes, not wanting the look of satisfaction on Khivar's face to be his last memory, waiting for the deathstrike.

However it would never come.

Max lunged at Khivar, throwing his arms around his enemy and throwing him to the floor. They rolled around; Max grappled with the hand that held the energy blast, trying to keep it far from him. "You forgot about me," he growled at Khivar, as they struggled with each other. "And I thought I was special." Without another word, Max, who managed to weasel his knee in between their bodies, flung him over top of him before spinning on his back and recentering himself for attack.

"It does not matter," Khivar sneered giddily. "This will soon be over. Pilan will swallow you and the remaining Hybrid Four whole."

Max glanced up at the black claw looming over them as if ready to strike. Inside its' clutches was an ever mounting energy blast of greater proportion than he had ever seen. However, the once crimson and white ball began to shift and to change. It seemed to waver, as if struggling within itself to remain stable within the energy core. "You may want to change that opinion."

Khivar spun around to see his brilliant thriving brainchild vacillate.

"Life is unpredictable isn't it?" taunted Max, with a smirk on his lips.

Before Khivar had time to turn and respond the power of the glowing energy ball surged and he felt himself knocked back. Normally the blast would not have effected inanimate objects, as the core purpose of it was to usurp energy rather than expend it; however, something had gone terribly amok. Whatever Barak had done brought a backlash of energy, as if releasing it rather than gathering it. As he struggled to remain conscious he waited, expecting to feel the bluntness of the stone walls except they were not there, as it had been blown apart by the strength of the blast; and he found himself falling amidst the rubble and dust from the old tower.

Betrayal has a bitter taste.

A bright red mushroom-like energy cloud poured forth from the tower expanding up and outward. All Michael could do was watch as the once crimson blast surged towards him and the girls in a pinkish wave. He braced himself as it hit; the massive energy tidal wave caused the balcony to buckle underneath. Michael felt his stomach flip and then the sensation of falling.

After that he remembered nothing else.

Fadilia had scarcely heard the previous blast before stopping to rest a moment. Yasu, Essmond, and Siothran did their best to follow orders, which were to take her to southern wing of the castle, where there was quick access to an exit. However, with some soft maneuvering, she managed to convince them that she knew of a quicker way. By the time Yasu and Siothran realized she had lied and led them towards the main gate it was too late.

"His Highness is going to have our hide," Essmond railed, shaking his head worriedly.

"Who cares about His Highness!" Siothran bellowed. "Think of what the Commander will do!" He paused a moment, realizing whose company he held and smiled sheepishly. "Beg your pardon, Queen Mother."

Fadilia stopped mid-stride and looked at these three soldiers who had been through more than their share of evil during this war and she could not help but burst out laughing at their conversation. "No apologies necessary," she chuckled, wiping the tears from her dusty face. "If Michael has retained any of his former charm there is definite need to worry on your part. However, I am certain that I will be able to soften any harsh words he may have for you."

"It's not his words I shall worry about," Siothran grimly moaned.

"Why have you brought us here?" Yasu questioned thoughtfully. "This is not safe at all, Your Highness. And after that last blast, I do not believe it will be long before we know who has gotten the upperhand in this battle."

"This is precisely the point," Fadilia stated firmly. "We need to remain near, in case, my son and daughter need our help."

"But what can we do?" Essmond asked wearily. He looked down at his bloodied uniform. "We are hardly equipped to help, even with the healing."

"That may not be where our purpose lies," Fadilia said knowingly.

It was only moments when the four felt the powerful blast that shook the walls of the castle. Fadilia felt arms encase her as she was pulled down without a moment's notice. Darkness surrounded her and she felt entombed. Her breath caught in her throat as she could not help but think of what was happening to her children out there without any shelter or port in the storm.

Great Unseen, send your harbingers of protection.

It was dark and hazy where he was. Michael felt broken and bruised, much like how one of the opposing teams to Roswell's football squad must have felt under one of their dogpiles except this time instead of people it was stone and marble.

"Michael?"

The voice sounded familiar, muffled but familiar. "Maxwell?" he bellowed, before choking on the dust and dirt in his unexpected prison.

"Michael, where are you?" The voice was getting closer.

"In here!" He tried to lift his arms, shift his position to possibly maneuver some of the heavy debris off of his upper body. He could not position his hands in the right position to blast some of the rock off of himself, instead he would have been putting holes in himself.

He heard crunching and scraping of rock against rock. Suddenly Michael realized the noise was happening right above him. "Max!" he cried out excitedly.

"I've got you Michael," Max shouted excitedly.

Suddenly Michael's thoughts turned elsewhere. "Where are the girls?"

There was an unexpected silence. Max had stopped unpiling the rocks. "I haven't found them yet."

"What about Khivar?" He really felt bad for asking these hard questions. He knew he should wait until he was 'un-buried alive'.

"Don't worry about it now," Max said irritably. "Just let me get you out of here alive first."

When the last rock had been moved and Michael managed to slide himself out of the hole the blast fallout had made, he surveyed the surroundings. Part of the castle remained standing, but a quarter section of it had been completely destroyed. You could quite easily see into the throne room, or what was left of it. Rubble and debris was scattered in a broad circumference of destruction. "What did you do up there?" He stood up to survey the damage. There was no human life that he could see. His heart sunk as he knew underneath much of this rubble were the not-so-lucky souls who had been unconscious near the courtyard during this whole battle and now were the casualties of it.

"Pilan happened," Max coughed, pointing up to the once looming arm, which was now a melted black blob. "Or Barak's version of it."

"Barak?"

"I'll explain later," he wheezed, having trouble from all of the smoke and dust. "First we have to locate Isabel and Tess. What happened to them?"

"They should be near here," Michael groaned. His chest felt like it was going to cave in on him. "I was right beside them."

"We don't have a lot of time."

"What do you mean?"

"I haven't located Khivar's body yet," Max frowned, his eyes darting furtively at the surrounding veiled landscape. "I don't know if he's survived the blast."

"You what?" Michael could not believe Max did not make sure the bastard was dead first.

"He was weak when the blast happened, but in all the confusion I couldn't keep him in my line of sight - what with the explosion and all. And haven't seen him since," Max admitted. "I've been searching for survivors for a few minutes now. You're the first. Most of the rest have been...." He closed his eyes, wiping his eyes of dust and soot with the back of his hand.

"Dead?" Michael steeled himself at the thought of either Isabel or Tess being the next.

"C'mon, we don't have time to waste."

Max felt a moment of relief when he found Michael alive and breathing. As he sifted through the rubble, he has found what could only be called...pieces of his people, and some that weren't. Those who had fallen into line with Khivar were not spared the sting of death. Now Khivar had not planned that large explosion that came from the destruction of Pilan, but nonetheless he had rendered even his own army unconscious so that he could suck the gifts they had been given at birth for himself. Max felt a wave of nausea roll over him. He wasn't sure if it was from the explosion or a response to the bodies he had drifted by in his search for Isabel, Michael and Tess, or a mixture of both. If the bodies hadn't been decapitated in one way or another, the Antarians he found, Kedran and Iturian alike had been either crushed under flying debris or suffocated to death.

Scouring with what seemed like little hope, Max bent down to move a large piece of debris lying in front of him. Underneath he saw the pale face of a young girl. The simple plain dress she wore announced her station as a servant, which was now marred with a fine grey powder with splashes of red decorating it as if a painter had haphazardly splashed paint upon her unmoving body. His heart stopped; and unfortunately, continued beating. He had never felt more helpless than at that moment. Bowing his head, Max let out a wretched cry. He did not know this child, but how many more of these innocents had known this fate? He fell back on his heels, his weight off-centre, causing him to fall onto the ground. Suddenly the magnitude of the destruction Khivar had reaped stared back at him. As he surveyed the area around him, all he saw was smoke, rubble and debris.

How could one man have this vision for his people?

The gates of the entrance room sprang open, startling the group of rebels and the Queen Mother. The three officers surrounded the older woman, prepared for battle. In the shadows of the entranceway, two, then five and suddenly the entranceway and its' hallway was blocked off.

"Friend or enemy?" Yasu shouted menacingly.

"We ask the same?" a low growl replied, as a lone figure left his small army and emerged from the shadows. Fadilia felt her heart skip a beat as the familiar face was revealed. She was overjoyed to see the General as he marched in with his throng. They were not many, as it seemed Pilan had managed to leave few untouched. "General Steren!" she beamed, welcoming him with open arms. He seemed to stiffen at the gesture, while she embraced him whole-heartedly. Fadilia could see the small group of rebels who had managed to survive, peek up briefly to stunned silence as they witnessed the embrace that held a even . "You have no idea how happy I am to see you alive and well."

"My squadrant managed to avoid the blast," he nodded, stepping back and bowing as regulation demanded. "We were too far out from the perimeter." Fadilia noticed General Steren glanced back sombrely at the open gate. She shuddered at what lay out there. Her mind pictured lifeless bodies strewn across the grounds. "Too bad I can't say that for the rest of our troops."

"We must mount an attack," Fadilia said hurriedly. "Za-Maxwell and the other three are in dire need of help."

"What is the situation?"

"Whatever Project Pilan was designed for, it seemed to do its' purpose, as you saw with the rest of our Kedran brethern," she explained quickly, as they headed back towards the fight. "However, what the Unseen has foreseen to prevent is any effect upon the Royal Four."

"Their powers are unaffected?"

"Yes," she said with a smile. The great Unseen had a plan, she just knew it. Fadilia had never been more certain of it. "Khivar will not succeed the throne with the crown."

Without another word spoken, the air erupted with a roar that filled the palace and caused its' very foundation to shake. Fadilia felt the General's strong arms sweep over her without hesitation, and she felt herself falling to the ground. There were several shouts and muffled words spoken, but all was enveloped by the loud roar.

Max continued to wander through the rubble. He began heading west towards the area that had once been shadowed by the towering parapit, which now barely clung to its' former stature. Out of the corner of his eye, he thought he noticed a slight flash of crimson light.

"I found someone!" Michael exclaimed excitedly, raising his left hand as his right held the limp but recognizable hand that belonged to Tess. As he used his powers to carefully and strategically blast his way through the large broken piece of marble to the body that belonged to the pale appendage, Michael prayed silently that he was not too late. He prayed that they were both still alive.

Max glanced over his shoulder briefly to where the faint glimmer had emanate dfrom before turning to the joyful sight of Michael shouting excitedly. Rushing, climbing over top unnatural boulders and crags created from the destructive blast, he jointed Michael, who was now bent over the large mound of debris in front of them. His heart pounded at the thought that either could have been severally harmed. But he held out hope that if he and Michael had managed to make it, couldn't they?

Once Michael had managed to dig out the top half of Tess's body, he wrapped his arms around her and pulled as hard as he could. After a couple of attempts, her unconscious body slipped from under the rubble, only to reveal another lonely limb draped across the grey rubble. "Take her Max," he commanded, handing Tess off to Max who was hovering behind him. "Izzy has got to be close by!"

Max knelt on one knee as he let Michael drape Tess's unconscious body across his arms. Her face was bruised and scratched with kisses of blood scattered across her face. She looked so pale. "Tess," he called to her, setting her down in a small clearing. "C'mon Tess, wake up!"

"Izzy! Are you here?" Michael frantically blasted his way through the debris that was piled in front of him. He noticed a small crevice underneath the rubble he had found Tess pinned under. Staring at the large structure made up of large and small pieces of marble, concrete-like material, Michael racked his brain for a way to take it down piece by piece without possibly causing a cave in and jeopardizing Izzy, if she was even under there. "Izzy speak to me!" He began pushing debris away and digging for a better position that would allow him to discern whether he needed to pull her body from the unwanted grave. "Speak to me. C'mon, don't you die on me. Tell me where you are!"

"Tess," Max whispered, holding her close.

"Mmmhm," a raspy groan breathed past Tess's pale lips.

"Tess!" Max exclaimed happily. "C'mon, wake up." He glanced over at the little trench Michael had dug out while trying to reach his sister. She was going to live to....She was alive, just like Tess was.

"M-Max?" she breathed again.

"Tess, it's me."

"Where is everyone? What happened?" Tess felt like someone was pounding on her head with a jackhammer. The last thing she remembered was trying to rescue Isabel. Isabel...

"Was Isabel with you?" Michael barked over his shoulder, digging around the chaotic structure of white, grey and black. "Tess, was Isabel with you during the blast?"

"Stop it Michael," Max said protectively, his body cradling hers. "How the hell is she supposed to know? Wasn't she unconscious the whole time? Isn't that what you said?"

Michael did not reply. He kept on digging, looking for any sign of her.

"You'll find her," Max said confidently, though he wasn't sure who those words were for.

As he dug, Michael felt his fingertips brush up against something that was not dirt or rock. Brushing frantically, he found a fabric covered leg. His heart skipped a beat. It had to be her.

"Did you find something?" Max noticed Michael's demeanor had changed slightly, from confusion to frantic.

"I'm coming," Michael said, as he analyzed the dire situation. The way the debris had collapsed on Isabel was way more complicated than simply digging an airpocket, loosening her positioning and pulling her free. Isabel's body was caught literally between a rock and a hard place. Her head was positioned just so, that one wrong move and the debris would collapse on her; whereas her body was deeply entrenched in an almost literal 'tomb' of marble and dirt. He kept circling the mound, trying to see large puzzle in its entirety and and its' interlinking pieces. "I'm here. Don't worry, Isabel, I've got you."

"Isabel," Tess coughed, struggling to sit up. "Where is she?"

"Michael's got her," Max said reassuringly, glancing over at the dirty blonde commander immersed in this one important mission. "Are you okay?" He looked her over, noticing each cut and scrape, wondering if there could be possible internal injuries. "Don't try to move too fast."

"No," she said urgently, waving off Max's concern. "Isabel, is she awake?"

"I don't know."

"Get me over there," Tess commanded, slipping her arm around Max's neck. "I need to see if she's okay."

"You shouldn't get up so fast," Max hesitated, noticing a huge gash in her side. "Let me heal you first."

"There's no time," she said dismissively. "Isabel could still be in danger."

"What are you talking about?" Max frowned. He didn't understand what she was going on about, but she seemed bound and determined to walk over to where Michael and Isabel were. So he carefully helped her to her feet and tried to take on most of the weight onto himself.

"While you were busy trying to stop Khivar, I was trying to find Isabel."

"What do you mean?" As far as Max knew, Isabel was 'with' Tess the entire time. At least this was the way Michael had described it when he filled Max in on the battle on their end.

"Isabel tried to help me by distracting Khivar."

"How?" Max frowned again. He was in pursuit of Khivar the entire time.

"I went in for a mental attack; and apparently Isabel went in after me." The thought of Isabel going in to distract Khivar while she tried to sneak in the back door still angered Tess. The woman was never particularly sure of the depth of her powers in the psychic world and for Isabel to go in the way she did...Tess let out a frustrated sigh. Now she was heavily imprisoned within the confines of the mind of a devil.

"You met with her in there?" They hobbled over to the rocky trench to see Michael still calling reassuring words to a probably unconscious Isabel.

"I didn't know she was there until she contacted me." She paused and slowly bent down until she was sitting on the edge of the pit. "Michael, have we figured out a plan to get her out of there?" Tess asked worriedly. "Have you seen any movement?"

"Nothing," he replied, unable to take her eyes off of her. "I would think she was dead except I can feel a pulse."

"She's still there," Tess said, her voice trailing.

"She's still where?" Michael's head jerked up to look at her as his gaze demanded an answer to what was ailing the woman he loved.

"Khivar," she said weakly. Her gaze darted between Max and Michael. "Khivar has her imprisoned in his mind."

Words failed him. There was so many feelings that flooded over him: rage, the desire for revenge, and fear.

"Don't worry about that now," Max said, climbing down into the shallow trench the pile of rubble sat upon. He knew if he thought about it at any length he would go insane with worry. "We have to figure out a way to get this debris off of her."

Slowly both of them began digging into the rubble and debris. They had managed to dig out most of her body, freeing her for the most part. The most dangerous portion of this extraction was the length between her shoulders and the crown of her head. As they had managed to clear a slight pathway for one person to examine just how intricate the layering of the rocks were. Thankfully the various sizes of rock had managed to create a small air pocket for Isabel to breathe; unfortunately, there was a large sharp jagged piece of marble pressed against the length of her neck, close to her jugular. Michael could not blast even a piece of the rock, for fear of nicking Isabel. It was too much of a risk. "It's an almost impossible extraction," he breathed in quiet despair.

"Not if we work together," Max replied coming up behind him and putting a hand on his friend's shoulder.

Michael turned and looked at the leader of this ragtag bunch of rebels. His face was calm and determined. It was a characteristic Michael both admired and hated sometimes; but at this moment, he was never more thankful. "You're right."

"I can probably sustain most of the debris for a few minutes, but you'll need to work fast. If you can take care of the rocks on top of her, I can handle most of the rest of the debris." Max surveyed the mass of broken marble and stone, which was larger close up than he realized. "Are you ready?"

"Yes." Michael focused his energy, realizing there was only one shot at this. He had to get in quickly and neutralize the jagged rock pressed against Isabel's neck. Then he could pull her out.

Max held his hands out enveloping most of the rock and debris he could see and lifting it a few feet in the air. It took all of his concentration to keep the debris from buckling from within; the whole mass would have to be supported by the energy field.

Michael slipped into the rubble, making a pathway to Isabel. With several short blasts, he managed to relieve the pressure resting against the jagged piece of rock causing it to press against Isabel's neck. In haste, Michael began digging the rest of her upper body out from under the remaining rock. Slipping his arms underneath her limp form, he rushed from underneath the hovering rock mass above him and gently laid her on the ground several feet away from the site.

Max watched as Michael ran Isabel to safety; he felt a way of relief flow over him. Just as he was about to release the debris, Max heard Tess yell at him.

"Wait! There's someone else in there."

"Are you sure?" A bead of sweat trickled down his forehead. He could not hold this much longer. "Michael, did you see anyone else in there?"

Michael joined the others as he heard some shouting. "What did you say?"

"Michael, someone reached out to me. There is someone else in there." Tess pointed to an area further back from where Isabel was found. "I heard their voice as clear as day."

Michael quickly climbed over the rocks and dirt mounds and located the spot to where Tess had indicated. He began digging frantically. If they could even save one of the bystanders, it was worth the risk. "Max, just keep holding on."

"I'm trying," he said through gritted teeth.

With quick and precise blasts, Michael found an arm hidden beneath the rubble. It was a man's arm. He dug even faster, further up from the arm he had found, knowing the man had been without oxygen for several minutes. He had not been as fortunate as Isabel who had a little bit of leeway because of the air pocket. His hands brushed the dirt that covered the stranger's face. It was battered and bruised, covered in blood. Michael pressed his two fingers against his neck and felt a pulse. He was still alive. As he continued to brush the dirt off of his face, Michael began to see a familiar bone structure and face appear. His body froze.

"Michael, hurry. I can't hold it any longer."

Michael stood up and stared at Max, who was red in the face from the strain.

"What are you doing?" Tess frowned, unsure as to why Michael had stopped. "Did you find them? Can you get them out?"

"I don't know if I want to."

Those words brought silence amidst the three.

"What do you mean..." Before Max could finish his sentence Michael interrupted.

"It's Nicholas."

Max peered over his shoulder at Tess, who seemed to tense at the mention of his name. They both understood what had halted the frantic rescue.

"Get him out." There was no hesitation in her words. Tess stood up slowly, her hand pressed against her ribcage, nursing her injuries. She came alongside Max and brushed up against him, who looked at her curiously.

"Are you sure?" Michael asked gravely. If they just left him, let the rock mass that Max was sustaining above them pummel his already broken body, it would be one less worry - one less inconvenience.

"Do it."

Michael yanked Nicholas' unconscious form onto its' feet and wrapping Nicholas' arm around his neck, dragged him to the ground in front of Tess and Max. Dropping their enemy on the ground without aforethought, Michael frowned at Tess. He did not understand why she would want to save the sorry lackey that had been part of the attack against them.

Tess rested her hand on Max's shoulder, who then let the rock mass drop on the ground with a loud crash, the ground trembling underneath their feet.

As his eyes opened, darkness and blurred rays of light filtered into the recesses of his mind. There was this unfamiliar aching sensation that branched through every muscle and limb of his upper body. He tried to move but there were heavy objects above him. He was trapped.

What happened? What had happened during his well-thought out plan?

Khivar growled and gritted his teeth at the questions that filled his head. He had no time to wallow in misery. While he still had breath, victory could still be wrestled from his opponent's grip. Though his body ached, Khivar focused his mind on his one sole purpose - kill the Royal Four.

"We need to find Khivar," Michael declared, glancing over at Isabel. She was still breathing, but he wasn't sure whether that was a good sign or not. The biggest question was whether Khivar was alive. If he wasn't, there was no chance for Isabel, no matter how much he begged her to come back to him. "Now."

"Michael," Tess breathed, feeling her side beginning to burn. "It's going to be all right."

He stared at her silently for a moment before walking over to Isabel and picking her up in his arms. "I'm not going to lose you, not after all of this," he whispered into her ear. Turning he walked away from the disaster area that the explosion had created within the once beautiful gardenscape. Finding a soft patch of grass, Michael laid her on her side, stroking her hair one last time. He wanted to keep her far away from the chaos. If Khivar still lived, he wanted her far away from him.

Tess looked down at the man who had been her prison guard only months ago. Unconscious and a shell of his former self, she bent down and held his face in her hand. "Now you owe me, you S.O.B.," she hissed.

"Tess," Max said, laying a hand on her shoulder. "Let me heal you." Slowly he pulled her away from one of the figureheads of their misery and heartache. "You're too hurt to do anything in this condition."

"I'm fine." Tess tried to shrug him off, but he glared at her with knowing eyes. Finally without another word she acquiesced. She sat as Max's hands ran over her ribcage, staring at him as he focused on healing her. He did not notice her penetrating gaze.

She felt the warmth of the healing energy flow through her. His touch was soothing and part of her almost reached out her hand to touch his head, but she suppressed the urge to run her fingers through his hair. No emotions. They made her weak.

"There," he said softly, standing up and reaching down to help her to her feet. "You should be good as new." "Thanks." Tess avoided eye contact and set her concentration on finding Khivar. Whether he was still alive and a viable threat was still unanswered and what should have been foremost in their minds. "I'll look over here," she said, pointing over to the balcony area where the blast had propelled them from.

Max nodded and headed in a south westerly direction from that point. Tiredly they began digging. Through the debris they found many bodies, but still no Khivar. It was after several minutes that he heard faint shouting. It was Tess and her tone was excitable, but he wasn't sure whether it was a good or a bad thing.

Michael was close to where Tess was digging, having made his way through most of the debris near the gardenscape. He had angled his path, zig zagging through the rubble, hoping that somehow it would increase his chances of hopefully locating Khivar's corpse. There was such a vast expanse to cover and so much to dig through. He could not blast his way through it all on the off chance of hurting survivors. Part of him was wishing they had more than three pairs of eyes to scout out area when he heard Tess' voice, and he rushed to her immediately, "What did you find? Is it Khivar?" His guard was up, wary of any possible tricks that could be lying around any corner.

"It's not Khivar," she said sombrely, but then her eyes lit up. "But I found Andaria, my mother."

"Is she alive?" Part of him feared that it was just another number to add to the death toll they've been racking up in this battle to the 'death', an very apt description of the war up until now.

"I don't know," Tess replied, her hand clasping her mother's. "I can't bring myself to check..."

Michael saw her freeze, as if willing herself not to break - not to feel. He knew she was fighting herself right now. She was fighting that part of her that made her so passionate about everything she did, because if she didn't, she would be useless.

"What is it?" Max came alongside the two. There was this awkward silence, as if he had walked into the middle of a conversation. He glanced at Tess and saw the hand in hers. His gaze travelling the length of the arm, he found Andaria's serene face at its' end. "Is she alive?" He knelt down beside her.

The last he remembered of the brilliant angel of hope that had descended upon them in their bleakest hour was when he had laid her in Michael's care after his 'ascension' of sorts. She had somehow slipped his mind during the fight and explosion.

"She's got to be all right," Tess breathed, without betraying any emotion. It was more like a statement.

Michael would not...could not say the words of comfort and reassurance that she needed to hear at that moment. He knew, just as Commander Rath knew decades ago, that war always had its' casualties and it rarely showed mercy. To give reassurance when he did not even know if they would survive the dawn of the new day would have been foolish. Instead he reached out and gently squeezed her shoulder. The look that passed between them was one of understanding.

She would not have taken his words of reassurance if he had offered.

"I think I've got a faint pulse," said Max, warily. "But I don't know how long she's going to hold on. I'm going to need time to heal her."

Tess furrowed her brow with great concern. "What do you mean, time?"

"Her injuries, as far as I can tell, aren't just from Khivar's attack," Max answered slowly. As the powers flowed from within him excising the information from Andaria's weary body, Max felt the thin line that held this stunning creature together. "What she's done for the people has taken its' toll on her body."

"What does that mean?" Tess did not like what Max was telling her. Only weeks ago, her mother stood in front of her more alive and more beautiful than she had decades ago.

"I can't say, but..." Max said solemnly, wishing he could have given her better news and knowing his silence spoke volumes.

"Tess," Michael spoke, touching her now rigid shoulder. "You know..." There was nothing he could say. He would not tell her that she knew the costs. He was not that callous.

"I know the price..." Her words were barely above a whisper, yet held the bitterness and anger of a tormented shriek.

"Give me time," Max said, trying to build up a sliver of hope in the rather claustrophobic, yet spacious atmosphere. There was no relieve amidst the seemingly unending torrent of death.

"No, leave me with her," Tess spoke suddenly, moving closer to the mother she had really never known. "I need...I need to speak with her before you do anything."

Michael watched as her petite form knelt beside the figure lying amidst the rubble. He could not imagine what it would be like to find a parent only to lose them. The thought brought a slight pang in his chest.

Max moved off to the side to give them a little privacy. Taking Michael aside, he glanced around the devastated landscape, "Has there been any signs of Khivar?"

Michael shook his head. He wish there had been. Dead or alive it would have been better to know. "No."

"Well keep looking. I need to stay close and at least try to see if I can fix what damage has been done."

"Do you really think she's gonna die?"

"I'm praying she lives to see the end of this," Max sighed softly, glancing over his shoulder back at Tess. "Because Tess has already lost way too much."

"So have you," Michael replied quickly and knowing, without betraying sentiment.

"Well," Max coughed, feeling the rims of his eyes moistening, "we just have to focus on the present right now. We don't have time right? for that stuff?" He watched as Tess whispered words into her mother's ear.

"I'm going to look around some more and check on Izzy..."

"Well, good sir, look around no more," a gravelly voice filled the air. "For I am no longer lost."

Michael and Max spun around to see a dark shadow cast against the expanse of grey and white. The forboding figure emitted a bright crimson energy around him, sharp energy arcs crackling through its' dusty, grey surroundings. Both their bodies tensed. They did not have to ask who this creature was.

They already knew it was Khivar.

"I am no longer lost," he said slowly, as his lungs felt like someone was squeezing them closed. "And neither is she."

His gaze lowered to the lovely figure lying in front of him. Her auburn mane even short was quite lovely against her alabaster skin. Even as a half-breed she was lovely to gaze at. The corner of his lip twitched slightly at the knowledge of what he held in his possession.

Much had been disrupted when Project Pilan had been tampered with. When he arose from the rubble, he was in quite disrepair. The power that once rushed through him seemed to have left him. There was still enough of his power to destroy the Royal Four, but it was not going to be as easy as before. However, with Isabel in his possession it would be much easier. They were attached to their own, which was a weakness he did not have.

"You really should take more care of watching over your own."

"You let go of her," Michael commanded, as the blood began to rush through is veins at the sight of her lyin in front of him. "Or I swear I will kill you where you stand."

Max restrained his tall headstrong friend with a strong grip. "Don't do it."

"Max?"

"Tess, I...I'm sorry," he whispered unable to express what he was feeling at this moment. With Khivar as a threat, there was no way he could focus and heal Andaria at that moment. It would take all of them to hold him off. He could not even turn and look at her. "I'm so sorry."

Her eyes were shut tight. She had to remember that this was not about her. She could not break. "I know. Let's just get the bastard."

"We go together," Max said softly, without looking at Michael. "We give him all we've got."

"Test him," Michael said without hesitating, as he walked side by side his king.

"See how strong he is after what Pilan did to him," nodded Max, his eyes never leaving his enemy.

"What are his weaknesses?"

Tess slowly pushed herself up, turning to see the two men whom she had begged and pleaded to follow their destiny back home - back to Antar. They walked side by side, no longer arguing and bickering about childish things; but they were united by their hatred for this monster that had arisen out of their apathy. Once she would have walked headlong into the fray beside them, but things had changed. She had changed, or at least things had changed her. Her gaze drifted back to her mother, who lay unmoved, and the heroics that she performed so that she would have that chance to save her people. So many had gone before her and after her to see their people freed from the oppression of a madman. Radim, her father, and those unnamed soldiers who had hung on until she returned.

Her son...

Tess saw Michael and Max's outlines only as shadows now. They had gone to meet Khivar head on. Men. She on the other hand would use their efforts as distraction to get closer. Khivar had one weakness that she knew of and that was underestimating his opponent. Of course that may have changed since the destruction of his pet project. He may feel a little more vulnerable and less prone to be overconfident.

But in the end, it didn't matter. She would use whatever means she needed to get close enough to this monster who had tried to kill all that she loved....And then she would rip his heart out.

There was only a few feet between the two camps. As Max and Michael drew closer they could see the fight had taken its' toll on Khivar - his once pristine black uniform with red trim was now torn and scuffed. Khivar's hair which had been slicked back was now disheveled and full of dust. Thin red veins jutted from his forehead; as well, they crept from his stiff black collar slithering up his neck like ivy marring his grey ashen face.

"It is time for this to end, my friends," he slurred slightly, his tongue felt thick in his mouth. "No more games."

"Let Isabel go," Max spoke calmly as he strode towards his enemy. Sizing him up slowly, his brain in overdrive as he tried to assess whether this madman still had any tricks up his sleeve. "And we might consider not killing you...yet."

"You do not want to come any closer, Zan," Khivar sneered, then sniffing at the idle threat of the two lone rebels threatening his demise. "I would not want this pretty maiden harmed because of any unexpected movements." He knelt down balancing on the balls of his feet and stroked Vilandra's hair.

Max held his arm in front of Michael's still moving form and shook his head. "Give her to us."

"You are quick on demands," he sneered again, not liking the sudden confidence this version of Zan had. "But I do not think you hold all of the cards in your hands."

"You are weak and there's no way you could sustain the attack from both Max and I," Michael stated matter-of-factly, trying with all his might to push back the thoughts of wiping the bitter-encrusted expression off of his face. "Face the facts, you will not win."

"Well then," Khivar said cocking his head to the side at the sudden declaration of victory, "I would also have nothing to lose." He dragged Vilandra's unconscious form up to knee-level as he stood up, his hands grasping at the collar of her shirt and also clumps of her hair. "And that would be a shame for your sister."

"There's no way I'm letting you hurt her again," Max declared, his temper flaring at the sight of Isabel's head jerking back as Khivar's grip tightened on her hair. "She's..."

Without another word Michael fired a blast straight on into Khivar's chest. He could not allow another moment to pass without doing something. They were close enough so that Khivar could not put up much of a defense. It was the perfect plan.

Khivar was stunned as he felt himself stumble back, his chest burning from the attack. His head was still spinning from before; but now, things began to blur and he could not react. The silky threads that his fingers once grasped now slipped through his fingers as he watched Vilandra's body go limp through a swirling haze. Before he knew it, Khivar felt the hardness of the ground meet his backside.

Jumping on the sudden opportunity, Max rushed over to Vilandra's side and with Michael's help dragged her away from the sick crazyman. He looked her over, trying to find any bruises or wounds that he could have inflicted without their notice.

Michael strode over to the convulsing form lying on the ground. Standing over top of him, he knew Khivar was walking a thin line between life and death now. Then slowly, he knelt down on one knee and grasped the ashen face in his right hand, forcing the Iturian leader to look him in the eyes, "Give me one reason why I shouldn't kill you right now?" His thoughts trailed to the fallen soldiers who had fallen beside him and because of him. "Why shouldn't I put you out of your misery and also mine?"

"No!" Max jumped up and pushed Michael off of Khivar. "You're not going to do anything to him," he berated his second-in-command. "What are you thinking?"

As a muted conversation went on beside him, Khivar felt his lungs fill up with fluid. Coughing hard, he felt hot burning liquid fill his mouth - the taste tainted and metallic. Raising his hand, the liquid spattered into his palm; red and thick, the reality of his failing body struck him hard. This can not be happening.

"He's still in control," Max whispered, leaning towards Michael and out from Khivar's hearing. "He still has Izzy."

Michael swallowed and nodded, gritting his teeth at the handsome opportunity afforded him right now, only to be staunched by Isabel's foolish heroic streak. "Fine."

Khivar gazed up at the two imposing figures above him. Their hybrid faces spoke volumes. At a time of rejoicing and possible victory, their expressions told the story. He still had them. They were still at his mercy. Even with his soon-to-be failing body, he, Khivar would rob them of that which they had within their grasp if they had been willing to sacrifice. Winning, victory, all of it required a little sacrifice. And they were not willing to endure it. They were not willing to sacrifice one of their own for the sake of the many. Fools. And for that they would pay the price.

Tess could not believe what she saw. Michael's surprise attack had been so unexpected that even she jumped when it happened. She was only a few feet behind them - out of Khivar's line of vision. All of it seemed like a blur. When it happened her eyes could not be torn away from his face. This man...no, thing who had haunted her dreams could fall. He could be defeated.

She never thought it would ever come to an end. But as he felt the sting of Michael's blast, it was as if instantly she had been released from some unexplainable hold he had on her. It was as if she felt linked to him in some way. Ever since that foolish mistake of aligning herself with Khivar, it was as if he still owned a part of her. As much as she fought and schemed towards his downfall, Tess felt as if she would forever be linked to him.

Now as he lay only several feet away from her, his body bloodied and broken, Tess felt hope. All they would have to do is take that last breath away from him. The thought sent a chill through her body. "Finally."

Max stared down into the face of his mortal enemy; his sweat creating a mixture of mud that masked half of his ashen face, with only a single thin stream of blood cutting across the blackened mask. It was the only color that deathly morbid face. "Let her go and we might possibly let you live."

Khivar felt his body begin to convulse, a little at first before it was a tremulous shake. He parted his lips and a loud boistrous, yet wicked laugh. He wanted to speak but he was racked with laughter, which then morphed into a hoarse, hacking cough. "The proposition I offer is that you heal me and then I will release your precious Isabella," he smiled with a grimace.

"You release her and we won't kill you immediately afterwards," Max said generously. "You may even live to stand trial."

"Now what kind of a counter-offer is that?" Khivar hissed sweetly. He felt the walls of his lungs begin to fill again with fluid, warmth permeating his chest. "You may reneg."

"I give you my word of honor," Max said, glancing briefly at Michael, whose gaze was fixed on the man holding Isabel hostage. "Which is of more worth than anything that comes out of those lips of yours."

"I am fading, Zan," Khivar coughed, his hands crossing over his chest as if the motion would save him the pain of his lungs revolting against his own bodily fluids, as he rolled on his side trying to stifle any excessive movement. "And you have little time to save your precious sister. Now are you willing to take my proposition? This is the only way to save her. If you choose to let me die, you are in essence condemning her to the same fate." The corner of his lips twitched in satisfaction while watching the two men figuratively bend to his will.

"Max..."

He knew what Michael was going to say. But how could he do it? How could he heal the man that came so close to destorying his entire race? In fact his entire planet?

"Max," Michael spoke again, glancing briefly back at Isabel who lay so still. "Please. You don't have to fully heal him, right?"

"You would be in utter control," Khivar concurred hoarsely, his eyes narrowing into slits as he spoke.

In utter control until I manage to find a chink in the armour and I usurp the powers that flow through your veins.

"You have nothing to worry about."

"Michael," Max said questioningly at his friend and second-in-command. "How can I be sure?"

"I..." Michael wished he had an answer, but there was no words. He knew Max understood the seriousness of Isabel's condition; and he had as much riding on this as he did. But between a choice to save his family, his blood at the risk of their people?

Tess watched the struggle take place. She understood. To lose Isabel wasn't an option, but what tricks did Khivar have hidden in his sleeves. She could not risk entering his mind and jeopardizing his stability when the possibility of him actually freeing her was viable. She would have to wait. She would have to wait until the time was right.

Khivar had thought this was a simple decision, as the hybrids were well known for their emotional ties to each other. But now he watched as Zan began to waver. With what little telepathic ability he had left of his powers, he used it to see Zan considering letting Vilandra suffer his fate alongside him. Suddenly he felt a wave of nausea overwhelm him.

"Max? What are you going to do?" Michael asked stiffly, almost afraid of the answer. "We don't have a lot of time." He glanced down at Khivar who was getting paler by the second. "He's getting weaker."

"I made my decision," Max said, glancing over at Tess who seemed to have appeared suddenly. "I..."

Tess held his gaze. She knew what choice he would make. He would not be Max if he didn't.

"You have a deal," he breathed, wrenching his gaze away from Tess until they met with Khivar's shiftless orbs. "Your life, for now, for Isabel's."

Khivar had the hardest time holding in his elation. The hybrid had seriously considered sacrificing his sister because he knew the threat he posed to his people. It impressed him. Although it was still not enough to make him turn his back. There was no room on the throne for a emotional brakiar like him.

And it couldn't have been any sooner. He felt himself slipping in and out of consciousness. Pathetically enough, this could have worked to their advantage had they had any intelligence. If he had slipped into a semi-unconscious state, his defenses were susceptible to attack. There probably would have been a opening just before he slipped into unconsciousness where they could have, as they say, 'broken her out' of her cerebral prison.

Not that I'd tell them that.

Max knelt before Khivar and placed his hand upon Khivar's chest. He could hear the roar of fluid sloshing inside his lungs; the gurgling of air bubbles being thrust into the liquid that was hovering in his throat. If he hadn't made this choice, the Iturian probably would have drowned in his own blood, he surmised.

"What are you waiting for?" Khivar gasped, between coughing fits.

"Max, I'm right here," Michael said loudly, kneeling beside Max hoping it would deter Khivar from trying anything.

Tess quietly circled around back, standing far enough away at the crown of Khivar's head to also keep an eye on the whole situation. If Khivar should lash out and take out Michael she would be ready for him.

Closing his eyes, Max took a deep breath and felt the power surge forth and enter into Khivar's body. He searched for the internal wounds and found several organs deteriorating rapidly. As Max began to search for the major wound that would keep Khivar from honoring his part of the deal, he could feel something else. It was unfamiliar. Almost like a second pair of eyes were watching him. He pushed past the sudden paranoia and repaired the life-threatening injuries Khivar sustained and withdrew from the connection with the Antarian who had destroyed so many lives.

Khivar gasped, inhaling deeply as he sat up with a jerk. His head was clearer and the weakness of his body seemed to dissipated. As he looked around his surroundings were clearer and he could form more coherent thoughts. "I...I am alive."

Michael formed an energy blast within the palm of his hand as soon as Khivar moved. He knew the man had been on the brink of death and Maxwell had not planned on healing anything that would intentionally link him with his previous powers, but Michael would not underestimate the enemy. "Don't you dare move."

Max regained focus in the present and saw Khivar sitting up, wide-eyed and awake. "I did my part," he said warily, eyeing the Antarian. "Now it's your turn."

Khivar licked his lips hesitantly as his gaze darted between the angry and expectant gazes of the two hybrids. He lifted his hand to his head, testing his powers under the guise of lightheadedness; he hid his eyes under the cover of his hand, moaning for effect. "Just a moment," he whispered, feigning illness to stall his temporary captors, meanwhile trying to access the cerebral link to his internal power source. "

"Don't waste our time," Michael barked, pushing him to the ground.

Khivar grimaced at the interference from Rath, as well, due to physical pain from his remaining injuries. "I am not capable of doing so," he replied somewhat truthfully as he met Rath's penetrating gaze. He knew the Kedran would be suspicious, that was the way Rath was. Always the typical soldier. "My physical state renders me incapable of 'trying anything' as you so aptly put it."

"I've healed you enough so you don't die before releasing Isabel." Max grabbed Khivar by the collar, "So now you're to do your part."

Khivar once again tried to access the visvires cortex to his power source; however, tapping into it he found his power source drained. Curses. He would need Zan to reconnect with him again. As the Kedran had begun his process of repair, Khivar had managed to piggyback and locate the hybrid's energy source.

Michael saw Khivar's eyes dilate as Max grabbed him. Knocking down the pale-faced liar, he pressed his forearm against Khivar's larynx. "I told you not to try anything," he said through gritted teeth, as the energy blast still pulsed in his other hand. "It wouldn't be smart."

"Michael!" Max shouted, trying to pry Michael off of him, pulling on the arm that held an energy blast powerful enough to wipe Khivar's face off without a second glance. "Stop. Don't do this."

"He's not going to give Izzy back to us," he yelled, his gaze locked with Khivar's. The glint in Khivar's eyes said everything. "It's all a trick."

His heart was pounding in his chest. The words that were coming from his mouth seemed like a thousand daggers into his heart. Why did it have to be this way? Closing his eyes, he forced the tears that were lining rims of his eyes away. He had to be a soldier now. Push the emotions away. He had to be stone now. "There's no hope for her," he whispered honestly. He knew that. "And all that's left is to end his reign of terror."

"Wait!" Khivar bellowed, as he saw the commitment in Rath's eyes. The former commander was ready to turn his back on the object of his affection. He had to think quick before Rath ended things prematurely. "I just need to access a minute amount of my energy source so I can release her." He was breathing hard, adrenaline running through is veins.

He needed to be convincing.

"I admit I tried to access my powers to finish you off," he blurted out, trying to entwine half-truths with lies into a convincing argument to let him live...or moreso, not to kill him. "But as you saw a few seconds ago, I did not have the power nor the access. Do not throw away Vilandra's life for circumstance."

Michael shook his head. He was lying.

"Even if Zan were to help me access my energy source, I do not have enough instore to destroy him, or you for that matter. Pilan managed to do its' handiwork. I do not have the power." He slumped onto the ground, his minor injuries still plaguing him.

"Michael, please," Max yelled, forcing Michael's kill shot to the side. "We have one more shot."

Michael turned to face Max, who was desperate to get through to him. "We have too much to lose, Maxwell," he said hoarsely. "I don't want Isabel's sacrifice to be for nothing."

"No," Max shook his head, "it won't be. I promise. We will get her back."

"You cannot guarantee it," Michael said as he leaned his forearm against the side of Khivar's face, pressing it against the ground.

Tess walked around, making sure Khivar could not see her and rest her hand upon Michael's shoulder. "Trust me," she whispered only loud enough for him to hear her. "He will pay if he tries anything."

Max placed his hand upon Khivar once more, a thin white light flashed between flesh upon flesh, signifying the seal between them. He sought the source of his enemy's once mighty strength and found the flickering embers. Khivar had not been lying. The energy source had been depleted and all that was left was waning coals.

Khivar watched silently as from the shadows as Zan stood on the precipice of stoking his once burning flames; however, what Zan did not understand was that as he had one more plan up his sleeves. With all his concentration, Khivar focused every source of energy he had to that one place. Zan would fuel the power source that would allow him to latch onto his, usurping Zan's own source.

"Michael," Tess whispered as she watched both men fall into a trance. "Be ready to attack him." "Why?" Michael asked warily. "Do you read something from Khivar?"

"I don't have to," Tess said calmly. "I know his very nature; and Max and the rest of our people won't be safe if he has his way."

Max's hand glowed as it inched closer to the heart of Khivar's 'heart' if you could call it that. Part of him was leery of doing this, but if he would see Isabel released without harm there was no other way. Just as he was millimetres from igniting that flame, he thought he felt something rush over him. Hee couldn't describe what it was, but it sent a shiver down his spine.

Trust me. Two unexpected and haunting words he heard before it was too late, and his hand ignited something he hadn't planned for.

Michael and Tess felt themselves forced back, falling onto their backsides as a powerful energy burst surrounded Khivar and Max. They watched as Max's lips parted and a wild torturous scream filled the air, vibrating through their living cells. Michael rushed to his feet, trying to pry Max's hand from Khivar's chest. As he was doing so, Khivar's eyes sprang open and stared at him with this maniacal glare, a malicious grin upon his lips so evil, Michael had no words to describe it. "Max!" he yelled, his fingers working his way underneath the white burning fingers that seemed attached to their enemy's skin. "C'mon Max, fight him off."

"I..." Khivar's tremulous voice shook the air, as a soft gutteral chuckle grew into loud maniacal laughter, "win!"

Max could not describe the pain that filled his senses. It not only seeped through his core, but into his mind. It was as if Khivar had managed to gain a stronghold over him. His hand burned as his fingers remained wrapped around the once cool unassuming stone-like ember, as if set on fire by Hell itself.

Tess could not let this happen, it was as if Khivar was rising from the ashes. "No," she muttered. "Not again. Not if I can help it."

Michael could not pry Max's fingers from the connection he had formed with Khivar, or possibly it was the other way around? Khivar had formed a connection with Maxwell, without their knowledge as was now using it to rise again. Trying to be as careful as possible in a situatin like this, Michael fired an energy blast at Khivar, hoping this would somehow at least shortcircuit the connection for a moment, allowing Max enough time to free himself.

This seemed to stun Khivar, who seemed conscious to Michael's actions. "Yeah, what?" Michael snarled, aiming another blast at the monster's face. "Come and get me." He released the blast.

It seemed Khivar was still trying to absorb enough of Max's power to retaliate. Michael could see the expression on Khivar's face of fury. He had stoked the sleeping dragon. "Hands tied at the moment?" he said sarcastically. "Isn't that too bad."

Max felt pauses between the connection Khivar had formed between them. If he could just predicted the next one, he could possibly get free. Stiffening his fingers, as if stretching outward, though his fingers remained curled around the stone ember, in a blink of an eye, he found himself pulling away and free from the connection. Quickly he severed the connection with his enemy, finding himself flung to the ground, dazed.

Khivar raised his arms, fending off Rath's attack. The time he had to usurp Zan's powers had not been as much as he would have liked, but it had been enough. "You thought to deny me the throne?" he raged, standing up on two feet. "Well, let me tell you something, bardus quisquii, I will always rise from the ashes!"

"But not in time to fly," Max said angrily. Raising his hand he joined Michael in the attack. "No more sentimentalities. It's time to say goodbye." He glanced down at Isabel's ashen pale figure, lying on the ground. I'm sorry Izzy.

Joined together, Khivar faced their attack head on. With what remaining energy he had he plied against his foes, crimson streams of crackling energy flying from his hands. He felt his whole body shudder as it emptied itself, unable to replete itself. Licking his dry chapped lips, he tasted blood. No. This will not be the end. As his the intensity of his attack began to fluctuate, he watched as the once strong crimson energy blast stutter, gaps in the powerflow.

Max glanced over at Michael who had also seen the influx of power from Khivar. He nodded, as they both advanced and pressed their attack. Slowly, they wittled away at Khivar's attack and lay siege to the waning energy source their enemy had forcefully absorbed. The once foreboding figure in black and red had begun to diminish in size. They felt him scramble for footing and to hold his ground. But nothing could stop them. Nothing would stop Michael and Max as they ran him to the ground.

Tess watched as Khivar slowly began to fall prey to his two powerful attackers. She would have joined the attack, but if they should have finished him off while she remained in his psyche, she too would have been lost. Suddenly for whatever reason, her gaze fell to Isabel. Part of Isabel's psyche still lingered inside her mind, calling to her. The imprint of fear and desperation etched inside of her. Over past the rubble, Tess had said goodbye to her mother, not knowing whether they'd survive this fight to attend to her mother's otherwise fatal wounds. She had given in, surrendered to the knowledge that she could not save her mother; but in turn, she had believed she would be saving another. They would not give up on Isabel.

She had lost too much and the overwhelming burden of that loss had begun to seep into the depths of her being. The tears remained reserved, for that possible day where she could weep over Khivar's grave. Not for his loss. Oh there would never be a treacherous day enough for her to ever mourn his loss. But she would weep over his grave for those she had never had the strength to save.

Tess knelt down beside Isabel, whose skin was still warm to the touch. "You fought hard, Isabel, once christened Vilandra, daughter of Alaric." Her gaze rose to where Max and Michael now seemingly had Khivar on his knees. "A lifetime ago, you fell at the hand of the man you betrayed your people to. But now," she whispered, petting Isabel's silky locks. "You will rise again. You shall not perish." Rising to her feet, Tess walked solemnly to where Michael and Max stood over Khivar. She reached out mentally to her fallen foe, she could still feel a faint presence.

"We did all we could," Max whispered, unwilling to let his tears fall in front of the man who had caused so much turmoil. "We all know the casualties of war."

"I know," Michael said, as he knelt onto one knee and looked at the bastard in the eye, hoping for a glimpse of his Izzy.

Death was upon him. Khivar could feel the shadows seeping in around him, slowly, happily encroaching upon the lifesource he once thrived upon. They would, as he had done to those around him, usurp whatever he had left for their own purposes. At this time, he imagined there should be a feeling of regret, possibly remorse. Could he have chosen a different path? However, Khivar could only hear one thing now in his dying moments. It was a sweet angelic voice. No, it did not sing to him soft soothing lullabys. Instead it was heartwrenching, fearful cries, like a child trapped in the dark.

It delighted him.

"One last chance Khivar," Max offered, trying to hold on to hope that in the light of his impending death he would do the right thing. That there was indeed some seed of humanity in him. "Before you die, you can save a life. You can let our people know you were not a complete and utter monster."

Michael saw the broken, bloodied and parched lips curl into a dreadful smile. It made him sick to his stomach.

"I may be at Death's door, but know this," Khivar coughed, a slow gurgle filled his ears as his lungs filled with blood. "I will not be alone." His eyes danced with a giddiness that he never imagined he would feel even in defeat. Though the Royal Four had ended his reign, he would not leave completely empty-handed. There was triumph in the midst of his enemy's victory. Khivar let out a hallow, spastic laugh as his gaze traversed the various sullen, broken expressions. "Even now, I win."

"No!" Tess blurted out angrily, stepping out from behind the two men's shadows. "You aren't going to win. You don't get to take another person away from me!" Falling to her knees she grabbed his collar and shook him, as his now shrill laughter mocked her.

Michael came up behind Tess, who had unexpectedly jumped out in front of them and tried to pull her off of him. He knew her heart was broken. As he listened to the anger that had infiltrate the very soul of her in her voice, Michael longed to give her back just a part of what she had lost. The fact that they were losing Isabel in the face of what some would call victory had broken something inside each one of them. And for Tess, it seemed she was in denial about letting Khivar have the last say.

"Tess," Max spoke softly, "please." If he had spoken any louder, Max was certain the tears would flow. The man in front of him...no, devil, in front of him had corrupted and destroyed all that was beautiful in his and all of their worlds. To see Tess on her knees releasing all of that pain and anger touched a part of him he had tried to steel himself against.

"No," she shook her head in frustration, "he won't have her. He won't take her there."

"Don't make it easier on him," Max said, stepping around to the other side so he could see Tess face to face. "Don't let him take a piece of you with him."

"I'm not Max," Tess hissed, jerking her head up to meet his pleading gaze. "I'm going to take something from him."

As Max reached out to touch her, he watched as her eyes went a startling ebony; the whites of her eyes disappeared as he'd seen oil slickly spread out to envelop the earth around it. His heart raced as his gaze fell upon Khivar, whose suddenly delighted expression turned to shock and his body had begun to seize. "TESS!"

"See you don't get to take one of us with you," Tess spoke slowly and calmly as she approached the mental image of Khivar. She watched as he squirmed underneath her touch, as she circled him, like a shark circling its' prey. "I've been down that road and I will die before that day happens again."

"Do you really think that it matters?" Khivar gasped, unable to catch his breath. It was like there was a vise like grip around his throat and he was unable to free himself. He had never experienced something like this. Yes, he had been a party to many psychic 'deaths' during his fray, but none had ever had the strength to break down his own barriers he had put in place to protect himself from attack. "You won't be able to find her."

"Oh, I already know where she is," she replied with a smile. "Isabel's a smart girl. She left me a trail."

"I..." Khivar was stunned at that revelation. He hadn't even noticed anything psychic crumbs. He had been too...distracted. He stiffened and narrowed his eyes. "Nevertheless," he growled. "You will never take her back alive. Do you know the odds of forcefully retrieving a mind as delicate as Vilandra's without any lingering damage, that is if she lives?"

"See, Khivar," Tess frowned, as she stopped and turned to face him. "You really believe this is about getting Isabel out of alive?"

Khivar felt a sudden unease.

"See, this is about revenge. This is about how much pain I can make you feel before you possibly die. Allowing you to feel yourself decompose, little by little, while you can do utterly nothing," she spat, her face only centimetres away from his. "You think that you can fade softly into the night, stealing away one of our own? Think again."

Khivar felt himself frozen in his own subconscious, unable to do anything to retalitate while he watched Ava reach out both her hands and clasp his mind. And he knew what was instore. He had done this many atime, though the purposes were for a different end. Khivar felt sudden panic set in. It was an uneasy feeling in his stomach which then turned into a nauseous rolling churn. It rose, tightening in his chest until he could taste the bile in his throat. "Oh yes," he hissed, narrowing his eyes. He nodded and pushed away the feeling of his impending doom. "You understand the power. And I'm sure you like the taste of it as well."

This unsettled Tess, causing her to pause a moment where there had been no hesitation before.

"But in the end, it is all the same. You see you are not much more different than I," Khivar drawled, laying the foundation of his last web of deceit. "Zan and Rath carry the banner of self-righeous piety and martyrdom. You...You, on the other hand, understand the need to do what needs to be done. Even if it means getting your hands a little dirty."

"What are you trying to pull?" Tess replied, wary of his tricks. "Your words have about as much weight as a feather. You will not convince me to let you go."

"Of course. I would not expect it from you, Ava." Khivar felt her hands slip from his temples. "Hardly," he said quickly, wanting to keep her attention. Her eyes met his. He could see her trying to scry whether anything he was spouting held any meaning or point. "You are a very strong woman. Why else would I have offered to spare you in our previous agreement?"

"I don't know that is what you would have done," she muttered. "Everything out of your mouth is a lie. And you kill on a whim."

"It gives me utter delight," he agreed, nodding his head. "However, you will soon understand this same satisfaction. You are no different than I."

"I do not kill innocent people," she screamed, reaching her hands to his temple once again. Her eyes glazed over, as the impetus for her to complete her task returned. "You kill without thought."

"Really?" Khivar felt himself stiffen, as her violent emotion setback his carefully laid web. "I believe I had much reason for doing what I did. Much more than you," he said indignantly. "As invaders flooded my kingdom, my rule and my people were threatened. I could not have that."

"Invaders?" she scoffed maliciously. "What invaders? You felt threatened at the possibility of the rightful heir apparent returning. You killed your own people to secure your position."

"Traitors," he lied, his eyes downcast. "You must understand that feeling." Suddenly a spotlight was cast in the furthest corner of this blackened plane he called his psyche. Images arose of Zan, Rath, Vilandra as they looked up at her upon her last departure - the one where she felt nothing but loathing from those that she loved most. "And how they must be dealt with."

Tess felt her heart lurch as she relived that moment. However, the result was probably an unexpected one. Khivar had probably desired to help her relive how those she had loved had so quickly believed in her betrayal. "You thought you'd play on what?" she asked in bewilderment. "My sense of resentment towards them?" Tess laughed heartily. Shaking her head, she moved closer to Khivar and readily stared down the thing who had taken almost everything she loved. "Do you want to know that I remember from that day?"

From the look in her eyes, Khivar knew his last attempt had failed.

"I remember being amazed that I had pulled off the lie," she whispered, a smile playing upon the corner of her lips. "And how glad I was that they had escaped. I remember preparing myself for a well-timed attack which would see you crippled long enough for me to put an end to you."

"Ava..." He could not say another word, his throat seemed to close in on itself.

"You were right though," she said thoughtfully, tilting her head slightly. The idea that she was the other side of the same coin was enough to make her cringe. She was not a murderer.

However, war taints souls. And as much as she had every right to demand justice from this man in the form of his death, she could not help think of her son. How would he see this? If he had lived long enough for her to give an account of the kind of life she had lived, what would he think of her? There was definite cause for the chaos of emotions swirling inside of her, but somewhere - deep down - inside she found she could not tarnish what life her son had lived, with Khivar's blood. "I don't want your blood on my hands. As much as you deserve death, to feel your life slowly slip out of your hands, I will not be the one to take it."

Khivar was stunned. He had not seen this coming. At the end, he believed that Ava would have had the guts to do it. He never doubted it for a moment. She had more reason than most. "I do not know what to say," he whispered, suddenly able to take a relaxed breath. He never had imagined these turn of events. "You..."

"Stop." Tess tightened her grip on Khivar's temple and shook her head, her gaze never leaving his. She didn't want to hear his pitiful attempt at gratitude. "I won't take your life," she whispered gravely, pressing the palms of her hands against his bony skull. "But that doesn't mean you get to walk away unscathed. If the Unseen that my people believe in truly exists, there will be justice this day."

"If there's some great power you have ever believed in, I'd start praying because my intentions were clear from the start. I will not let you take Isabel to the grave with you. So whether you live or die through this extraction, just may be up to them."

Khivar did not have time to protest before Ava began to ravage his mind. There was no protection. He had no strength left. Closing his eyes, his screams of pain echoed inside his head. For he knew, in reality, those who looked on, only heard deafening silence.

It seemed like hours, in what had only been minutes. Max cradled Tess in his arms as her body was rigid and her eyes blackened by her powers. He had no idea what had gotten into her mind. What had she planned to do? Was there a way to save Isabel she had not mentioned? "C'mon Tess," he whispered encouragingly into her ear as his gaze rested upon Khivar's now still body. "You have to come back. We're so close to the end."

Michael paced back and forth, his gaze flitting between Khivar, Tess and Max, and then always lingering upon Isabel. He hated this. They were just sitting here waiting for Tess, not knowing whether this insane scheme she had plotted would actually work. Would she get Isabel back? Or would they lose another of the Royal Four? He just wanted to put Khivar out of his misery, not for the Iturian's sake, but for theirs. This war was close to being over. Everything they had left behind for would be for nought if they lost both Tess and Isabel. Of course, their people would be free, but he would have lost two people he had managed to let into his world, which was never easy for him.

The monster's chest still rose up and down. Not regularly, and at moments, Michael swore he had stopped all together. In those brief moments, he held out hope that it had been finished. But he knew it would never be until Tess awoke from her trance.

Suddenly Max felt Tess' body spasm and shake violently, and glancing over at Khivar as he tried to isolate her spasms, he saw the pale dictator's limbs flailing. "Tess?" he said worriedly. "Tess, wake up. C'mon, don't do this." His tone became more urgent. This war could not end like this. It just couldn't.

Michael fell to his knees and held Tess' head as Max did his best to control the rest of her body. The frightening ebony orbs stared back at him, yet not actually seeing him. "Tess," he said in a commanding tone. "Wake up. You are too strong to let him win."

Max felt her muscles tense and her body go rigid. Her fair face went ashen as she convulsed one last time before gasping for air and falling limply into his arms. "Tess!"

Michael pulled back to allow Max room as he hovered over her, trying to hear whether she was breathing. He glanced back at Khivar who also had stopped seizing and was now like a discarded crumpled mass only a few feet away. After staring at him for what seemed like eternity, hoping and praying Khivar's chest would remain still, he saw the slow rise and fall of their enemy's unwanted breath still giving life to its' distorted body. Kneeling on one knee, Michael checked his pulse. It was faint and thready, but the bastard was still alive.

He just won't die.

He turned to Tess, who remained blanched and unconscious, and wondered what had happened; but just before he could voice his question aloud, Michael heard a sharp gasp and then sigh. Spinning around he scrambled on his knees to where Isabel lay. Brushing the uncombed hair from her face, Michael lifted her up into his arms and caressed her face with his thumb. "Isabel?" he said, almost choking on unwanted tears. "Izzy? Are you here? Are you back with us?" This was more than he could have ever imagined or wished for. It ws only minutes ago he had resigned himself to mourn her valiant effort to aid their people - to give them freedom. And now what?

Max locked gazes with a bewildered Michael. Could Tess have freed Isabel from Khivar's mental prison? He looked down at Tess, the mother of his child and leader of their rebel forces, and was in awe. Again, he was struck by the will of this one woman and her ability to change the fate of one world. Leaning down, Max whispered, "You truly are amazing."

Then, for a brief moment Tess' lids fluttered and opened, once again revealing those piercing baby blue eyes, whispering an unexpected reply. "Took you long enough to notice."

"Tess!" Max exclaimed excitedly, lifting her up in his arms. He pushed back her hair to look into those eyes he had been longing to have peer into his again. Somewhere deep down he had feared the worst - that Khivar had taken something away he had yet to truly discover.

"I did it," she whispered, as a slight smile played upon her lips. "I got her out."

"You did good," Max blurted out, tears pouring out as he glanced over at Michael who held Izzy in his arms. "Now you just need to stay with me. We'll get you some help."

"I..."

Tess' dark lashes fluttered. She then gasped softly, grimacing as if pain was wracking through her body. And just as quick as her unexpected awakening had been, Max watched as she fell back into darkness. He shook her gently. "Tess?" he beckoned softly, yet urgently. "Tess, don't leave me!"