To Finish What They Started

As he sat on top of the huge torch held by the Statue of Liberty in New York City, he thought about all of the good times he'd had with his friends from this place. When he had been feeling down about things, there were almost always people there to help him out, no matter what. At first, when he had gone insane, and lost every bit of the little amount of mental credibility he had, the Vine Villains took him in. He sought knowledge, and fought by them for a long time, even reviving the team at one point, with the help of people like Aztek the Lost and Kiara Sullivan, who he became good friends with later.

He stood up to the Vine Greats when assaulted, and always stuck up for his family. He tried to protect his girlfriend when she was still...well, when she was still what he considered as human, he hadn't known any better. He had suffered great pain because of it, but at the same time, he looked at it in the objective view that what never killed him made him stronger...and it had. But it got to the point that he couldn't handle something, he would always take 5 out, and let Levrore take over for him.

For people that didn't know what Levrore was, he is the second identity that takes himself as Resonate, the darker and more hateful, aggressive, and truthful side of Jack Hazel. He was what he released himself in...to keep himself from going crazy and killing more people....unfortunately, he ended up doing just that for a long while. He killed people like it was a game, like he could just have fun with it. Such was the story of how he eventually made it to the top of the Vine Villains, and Magneto's right hand man aside from the other leaders of the great team. He needed him in the battle field, not leading others to their demise.

He accepted this position as Bishop with honor, and made himself seem the highest of warriors when he fought...at least, Levrore did. When Jack got into a fight that he figured he wouldn't win, he went into a rage of confusion and anger and nervousness that he just broke down. This was the case for a lot of things, but fortunately he was able to give Levrore some leeway for this combat needs through this insecurity. It was this exact concept that got him into a bout with Sparda, a legendary fighter in his own right. Jack and him had been friends for a while, they had even tried to create a team that never made it off the ground...but, even though being on different sides, they were always able to come back and see eachother as allies in combat.

This held strong until the incident with the Ultimates Team...Jack's moment of fame in the world of ComicVine, his attack on the Ultimates HQ single handedly, and destroying it in the massive world war that was left unsettled. Sparda had actually saved him from death, but this too played into the plan that Magneto had set up for him, to destroy the team from te inside out. After getting explosives to use fro Sparda himself, who actually beleived that he had an ally in him, he destroyed the building.

This, of course, lead to their fight, as they were the only ones around to fight left. The following duel was one known throughout vine history, Sparda and Resonate's epic fight of unknown proportions and power. The two seemingly weak men proved that even the simple "grunts" can fight their way to the top of the chain of death, and today...here and now...this unfinished fight was going to be settled.

However, a lot had changed in Jack's life since those fateful days...Gambler coming to power, the Hellfire Club crashing once and for all, and more importantly, the formation of Jack's sanity...almost. Levrore still existed, but only for fights that needed to be finished, like this one. Though he didnt know if it would be drastic enough to force it upon himself yet....

He had become a vampire, without the weaknesses of sunlight, and necessity of blood, within the past few weeks, due to the girl he thought had been dead. Though...he hadn't entirely gained the powers through traditional means....his son had come of it....he didn't need blood to survive, but he certainly lusted for it every once in a while. Sitting down and looking through the orange and purple sky....waiting for the one he had challenged several days earlier to appear....he thought to himself, and spoke aloud, above the wondrous city of New York, while thinking about all of the destruction he was about to cause to himself....

"End of the Line, Sparda...."

"You cut the silence like a knife, Jack"

The voice came out of the air, seemingly from nowhere. Then, with a whoose of air, Sparda flew above the edge of the crown of the statue, and landed down onto it's head. He was wearing his usual attire, red cloak and gray jeans, combat boots, sword, gloves, pistols. He faced Resonate directly, his eyes narrowed.

Sparda had known Jack for a long time-they had fought together, beside eachother often. However, due to their unstable status among the good and evil of the Vine, they often found themselves on other sides of the battlefield, at eachother's throats. The most vicious and devatating of these encounters was during the Comicvine World War, where both men pulled out all the stops to defeat the other in a bid for the Earth's safety. They were interrupted, but now, here, it was resuming. And while Sparda might bear the slightest trace of joy or anticipation, he faced this battle with a broken smile.

"Jack, we've known eachother for a while. And in that time, I've come to understand you as two beings, and I accepted that. However, even I cannot ignore your past. I....I've come to understand that you can't control your life anymore. You started in chaos, and that's how you'll end, unlesss I do something.

I've got to end this, Res. It's not just finishing what we started.....it's finishing what we are"

Sparda reached behind his back, and drew his large sword, brining it down to point at the head of the statue at an angle. He motioned to Jack with his head, and though he didn't mean to say it-since he still considered Jack a friend, or even a ally-his next words stung.

'Let's go, fellas"

As the lights of the city of New York dimmed, flickered and died, Sparda tracked them with his eyes, his head not moving. Eventually, the trail of light ended at Jack, and Sparda focused to see that the man's sword was gathering the energy. Not good. Sparda knew that they attack was coming. But he didn't want to act-not yet, not now.

He waited, and surely enough, his simultaneous ally and opponent flew towards him, aiming to strike. His sword smashed into the statue, blowing giant pieces of the structure everywhere in a deafening explosion that broke the silence of dusk. The area was lit up so that everyone who might've been looking at the statue that moment would've saw. If only they would've saw the rest of it-they would have quite a tale to tell.

Sparda flipepd his sword up and cleaved two pieces of the statue into two, knocking them away. The wave of energy from the explosion smacked into him though, and now he decided to start the beginning of the end, for both of them.

As he was knocked backwards, his left arm, free of holding anything, suddenly was covered in a thin layer of dense smoke. He thrust his arm forward while he was still flying backwards, and a large beam of concentrated dark energy burst forth and collided with the head of the statue, blowing the remains into oblivion. Fight fire with fire, and all that. Hopefully Jack would've been knocked straight clear of the structure, and the free fall would begin.

Sparda flew over teh side and began to fall rapidly, the air whoosing around him and his cloak billowing. He stabbed his sword into the side of the massive monument, and it stuck deep into it. Sparks flew and a massive screech erupted as the otherwordly metal of the sword pierced and cut through the famous statue. Gradually, he fall was slowed, and he hung off the sword, he feet pressed against the side of the statue, ready for combat.

He realized that by the end of this battle, New York would never be the same.....

Of course the explosion didn't kill him, he had been well aware that it wouldn't, but a change of scenery was necessary at this point, didn't want for things to get boring....one side of him wanted the fight over quickly, but the other wanted him to savor this, as these couls have been the last moments they would ever spend together, as friends or enemies.

The smoke that filled from his arm was a familiar sight to Jack and Levrore, he had used it in their previous fights. The huge blast of energy that it sent towards him? Not so much, he had never seen the likes of anything this powerful shot from his opponent at once, at least. The blast collided into the remains of what used to be the head of the Statue of Liberty, but he was unable to get out of the way for the most part, and would have taken severe damage if not for the electromagnetic wall of energy flowing up above him at the last second....the blast hit his side dead on, but he was able to block the debris for the most part.

As he fell along with Sparda, he thought about how much this city would change, too, almost reading his mind. The two had known eachother for far too long, their thoughts seemed to resonate with each vioent motion, this fight would truly be remembered...because the winner would not be the stronger one, but the one able to confuse his opponent with unforeseen motions first and foremost. The only way that he would be able to fully stand up to him would be in the rain, which didn't seem to come for him.

As his friend freefell next to him, he caught on to a side of the cloak of the great statue, while he impaled the monument of freedom with his blade and dragged himself down to the bottom of it at a slower rate. Standing there and looking down at him, the two made eye contact again, and he felt his heart sink....there was a lot of anger in both of their eyes, but what he could really see was just slight nervousness and anticipation...neither knew what they would do...

Standing up there, he decided that now would be a good time to get things out of the way...throwing his cloak off and wrapping it around his left arm, his sword in his right, he charged the cloth that was made of an electronic conducting material, and he had a huge spear of sorts, completey of lightning....looking down at him the whole time, his eyes narrowed into what seemed to be contempt, but more along the lines of sorrow, and he leapt down towards him and swung his two weapons, one charged and one not, like a mad man, the wind blowing in his face and knocking his hair back, he was fighting to the best of his capability.

"Let's see if you can dodge this, buddy...."

Jack and Sparda working reacted to each of their attaks as if they were on the same wavelength. Now, they were staring down eachother from across the surface of the monument of this great city. Sparda felt the tension grow higher now. His vision changed and adapted to the dusk, which was now almost night. Tonight, there would be a light show for all of the city to see. That was for certain.

Sparda coiled, ready to let loose as Jack flew towards him with his weapons. He was coming straight down towards the demon hunter in a free-fall. Here was where the battle started to rev up.

Sparda pressed his boots against a small carve into the statue's body, using it as a position to push off of and keep his balance. As he did so, he ripped his sword free of the statue's embrace, and dove off, flying straight up into the air towards Jack. The wind resistance slowed him slightly, but he retained much of his speed. His eyes dried against the draft, and his cloak whipped around him. He held his sword out beside him, ready to parry the attacks that were coming. The two men were flying at eachother parellel, so they would not collide.

Jack swung, and Sparda slashed to counter. However, he only hit one of the weapons-the spear of lighting. It sparked and flashed as the two objects connected in a bright light. Jack's sword slashed across the demon's chest diagonally-it wasn't too deep, but it drew a fair amount of blood, and it stung. Sparda lost his balance and momentum because of this, and went flying off-center. He flung around, heading steraight up, near the remains of the crown.

He headed towards one of the last remaining spikes of the headpiece. Using all of his skills, he righted himself and smashed into his, boots first. This caused a large amount of pain from the speed of the crash, but Sparda gritted his teeth and pushed through it.

Now, he pushed off the spike and dove straight down towards Jack, his arms pointing ahead, his sword being held by one. He neared coming from behind, and aiming to tackle his ally, his enemy, his friend.....

They would both go crashing down if the attack connected, and Sparda didn't care. He was going to end this, soon.

One of the hits had connected....it seemed that Sparda was determined not to be outdone though, no less than expected...but he had come into this fight prepared to lose...but also prepared to last. He could see his friend was in pain, but no one was invincible, he knew that he was going to feel this. However, one thing that bothered him the most., was that it seemed all of his attacks were aiming to obliterate Jack quickly...as though he wanted it over.

Jack, however, had different plans, he was going to make this last as long as he could...his opponent flew past him onto one of the spikes still remaining on the near destroyed head of the large tower of freedom, and began charging down, aiming to tackle him. Still falling, he had nothing to stop this attack from hitting him dead on and both of them crashing down into the ground, though they still had a few seconds.

He wrestled his arms free of the demon holding him down and managed to pull himself off of him, but not before they were barely ten meters off of the ground, and he was headed for a car...the vehicle would no doubt explode at the rate he was falling, and he wouldnt survive it.  He couldn't think of anything to do, and the orange sky seemed to turn to black as he fell...could this just be a symbolization of his light turning out? Was he going to die here?

Nothing to think about....can't handle it....can't.....was all he could think about, and this was the key turning point of his personality....Jack wasn;t in control anymore, because Levrore wasn't about to die for him. As he came nearly a foot from colliding to the ground he shot a bolt of lightning from his hand and it projected him a few feet, spinning away from the car beneath him, which exploded, and landed on the ground on his feet knelt down with his hand punching the ground and sending a shockwave throughout the ground before Sparda had landed, making every car within the reach of it combust.


"The light show has begun, hasn't it? Heheheh....hahahaha......hahahahahahahaha.....Did you miss me Sparda? I certainly missed you....I love the sight of your blood, dripping from what will soon just be a corpse for others to stare at, but don;t worry, I'll make sure to hang you by your coat tails from the spikes protruding from the torch of the beautiful monument we've just desecrated, for everyone to see what a beautiful sight death is...."

What neither of them knew at the time, however, was that the fight had truly just begun.

As the two fell, something happened within Jack's body, and Sparda was dreading it. The insane aspect of the man's personality emerged, and that meant that this battle was far from over.

Jack-no, not right, Levrore-narrowly missed death from Sparda's head on tackle, separating as the last possible moment and ricocheting away with one of his own attacks. He was a crafty one, all right. Meanwhile, the demon hunter plunged down on his own, with nothing to grab or stop with. Quickly, using his reaction time, he waved his hand and made a slide-construct composed of dark enery-five feet from the ground. He landed on that with his back-hard, despite the angle of the slide-and slid down the end, manipulating it mentally. He made it slope up, and end abrutly, where he flew off, flipped in the air twice, above the shockwave that his opponent had created, and landed down on his feet upon the ruined ground.

He spun his sword around and slashed once in front of him, before bringing down to his side. A gesture to get focused again. Now that Levrore was in the game, he wasn't going to be holding back.

"Damn it....", Sparda whispered in frusteration. He was having some trouble figuring out what to do next. He was conflicted. Jack was one of his best friends, despite their battles, but that wasn't the man's fault-his mind was fractured, and should he be blamed for that? No, it was a cruel twist of fate. It was like he was possessed, and there was nothing to be done of it now.

Sparda rushed forward, he sword held down, clearing the distance between the two men. The tip of the blade sliced across the ruined pavement of the popular tourist attraction, sending sparks flying in all directions. As he neared, he brought the sword up invertedly in a diagonal slash towards Resonate, before flipped it around and launching two more-one vertical, and one horizontal, after eachother. He sent them with a fury, as he was angry-angry at this whole predicament.

All good things must come to an end, it seemed.

He could sense the anger in his former opponents eyes and motions...good, this would make it more interesting...he wanted to end the fight with his blade? Not happening....he took his blade and matched every blow that his friend sent, he should have known a bit better than to try this, though they had both improved greatly since their last bout...back then they were both so green, there was nothing to do but show that they had improved at this point.

His friend and enemy was good with his blade, he left no openings for him to counterattack in, somewhat surprising compared to the loose footwork he had known him for back in the older days. After the dazzling physical fight was over, he leapt back, barely making it and taking three or four scratches up his leg as he back flipped some twenty feet away....he was fast, a lot faster than what the normal eye could see, it seemed.Sparda with his blade alone was something to watch out for, so he'd make sure to keep himself out of range for a little while, till he had worn him down.

As the night took the sky over and the orange became a dark grey and black, the flames from the explosions lit their world up. It was like a ball room of death for Levrore, like a ruined evening for all of the people that had been envying the glorious sky that he had just killed. As a hero, he was certainly less than admirable...but this was not him, it was all of the darkness he had held inside growing up, trying to maintain all of his extreme rage.

As he looked at him, he began to sweat, and his breathing began to hasten, he was slightly worn out from that sword bout, but he was still in this for the long haul.  "They won't be needing it, hahaha" he said, as he raised his hands, blade still in them, and he guided them around him in a swaying motion, spinning around, almost like a martial arts kata, though he only did this to help him focus when he needed it. The energy from all of the cars around him was drifting into the sky, and forming into a giant yellow dragon, something majestic, yet frightening at the same time. It began to swirl around, and he put a forcfield around himself and Sparda as he heard the sirens of police cars coming around.

"Put your hands in the air, we have you surrounded with...."

The sheriff didn't have much to say when he saw the dome of blue and yellow form around the two men causing the desecration of one of their most sacred monuments. "Let me show you something, dear old friend....this is what separates us from them...hahaha.....ha..." was all that Levrore said as he expanded the forcefield into a giant blast, extending everywhere, destroying the Statue behind them's foundation, cars flying throughout everywhere, debris coming crashing down, and killing all of the police, and anyone within about a 500 meter radias, except for Levrore and Sparda.  Debris came crashing down, and buildings all around, as far as Levrore, Jack, and Sparda could see, everything was dying...and Levrore was rejoicing.

"I'm so happy we could meet again, though, you have no idea. Of late, there has been no one to challenge....and, heh, I'm really wearing myself out here, hardly anymore electricity to grab right now. But, that may be something you find releiving....hahaha"

He said, as he threw off the first shirt that he had on, it was too warm for him now, and he needed to move around faster without risk of anything being caught on a jagged peice of debris...the smoke started to clear, and everything had fallen...he wondered if Sparda had survived, he;d actually done what he could to help him, but he didn't have much time to worry about him with all of the things happening at the spur of the moment. He drew his blade, and stood there, waiting and focusing till the man decided to strike...or he realized he was dead.

Sparda watched Resonate in odd fascination. Truth be told, he wasa surprised that the man had kept up so well in their sword bout-he had definitely improved since their last battle. Hopefully, not too much. Now, Levrore was creating some kind of construct out of his powers. Ready to defend, Sparda stood, tense. Then, he heard the sirens approaching, and knew what was going to happen.

"Put your hands in the air, we have you surrounded with...."

Sparda knew what was going to happen with that dragon, with the force-field. He turned back to Resonate, extending out his hand.

"NO-DON'T!", he yelled to the other man. Too late.

The explosion expanded outwards-the police were vapourized, the cars exploded-sending shrapnel spinning wildly in all directions-, helicopters burst into flame and plummeted to the waters below, and the statue was uprooted from it's foundations and collapsed, sending smoke, dust, and the compiund with which the once mighty monument was composed of flying everywhere. The very air itself was blocked by all of the chaos and destruction-and all Sparda could do was watch.

Because of the expanding field, it pushed most of the debris away, and he was left unharmed. He could only assume the same thing for Resonate. He gritted his teeth, and clenched his fists. The madman had just killed dozens of men. Madness. Gradually now, the smoke thinned, allowing Sparda to see more-and in that smoke, he saw the figure of the man who had just brought destruction and ruined on a huge scale. It was his friend's body-but not Jack, not anymore. Sparda couldn't, wouldn't hold back any longer. Not when dealing with this.

He brought up his empty hand, still in a fist, He closed his eyes, thinking about how this might all play out. Then, he opened his vision, and thrust his hand forward, firing off half a dozen blasts. He dived forward, through the smoke, in a flying kick, and slashed and hacked wildly as fast as he could, as hard as he could. He would tear Resonate apart if that was what it required.

But he didn't like it.

He couldn't see anything, but he now knew that his enemy was still alive, the yelping "NO - DON'T!" was symbol enough for this....heheheh...the fun was so far from over, so so far. He pondered what his next motion should be, how he should strike again, and as he stood there with his blade he realized that this last destructive act had sparked fury inside of his opponent, he wasn't playing anymore....he could tell, as from out of the smoke came six or so shots of energy, none of which he was prepared for at all.

The blasts struck him hard, knocking him back several feet, he was unable to block or dodge them, and he was beaten down by them. He took a few seconds to regain his composure after recovering from the pain, a few seconds that he didn't have at all, just as he pulled himself back up to his knees, a foot flew through the dark smoke and tephra , Sparda's of course, and struck him in the chest, knocking the breath out of him....

Somewhere in there he was able to raise his sword, but not before he had been struck eight or so times, all throughout the body, being ripped from inside out, it felt like. Once he had finally mustered up the grit to wield his blade enough to stop the oncoming flurry, he sent his foot, charged with some electricity, down into the ground, blasting both of them away from each other in opposite directions. He didn't think that this would hurt Sparda, but he didn't know if he would be able to regain his footing so instantly as he had, planning this out.

He started running, his head low to the ground and arms in front of him, his sword still in a fighting position, until he figured he was a nice good distance from him, where he began to recuperate...the vampyric blood in his body gave him an enhanced healing gene, but nowhere near as fast as he wished it was....the pain was too much for him to bear right now, but that was what Levrore was good for, dealing with things that Jack couldn't. As he sat behind a smouldering vehicle, the smoke started clearing away, and he could feel some energy regaining. Levrore had to have his fill of electricty himself to survive, and he was getting it in full right now....he could not only sense the energy from the city itself, but the power source that had once run the shattered monument behind them, too. This was more than enough to suffice for his next motion, far more than enough. As he waited for his opponent to strike again, or at least start turning over cars, he called out to him:

"Hahah, you know...I would say that this is no less than expected from the legendary Sparda...but god knows that was way more than I thought I would ever be able to handle, hahaha....heh...well, you showed one of your more impressive cards, let me try mine, how about it?"

Spoken slowly as the pain was still making it hard for him to focus. He would still be moving around now, but, if anything, faster, due to having much more incentive to get around now. He started to summon all the electricity beneath the both of them, and suddenly the entire island began floating...this was a lot of power to be holding, but he would use it well. Standing up and revealing his location to Sparda, he turned around and saw his target instantly, tracked him down like a rabid animal, he had.

His hands raised up above his head, and he spun his sword, slowly at first, but as it gained momentum, it began to look as though he were holding a shining disc in his hands above his head...the bolts of lightning flew slowly into the sword, dramatizing the moment as he stared at his former...no, still....friend, and current opponent. Soon the glowing disc that was his sword shone so greatly that it looked as though the North Star had landed on the levitating matter above New York, as far as the normal human eye could see...that was, if there were any normal human eyes left to see it after his last attack.

"I like this move a lot....don't really have a name for it, but I'm glad that you get to see it first, pal.....heheheh"

As he spoke these words, his eyes narrowed again, and the pupils he had nearly turned into slits, and they were red, and he jumped into the air, flipped and threw the spinning yet charged blade with all the force he still had in his body, and it followed Sparda. He didn't know if he would get why this was so great yet, but he would soon....not only would the kinetic energy of the blade keep it from stopping it's momentum, he could manipulate wherever  it went....and every time it hit something a bolt of it's energy source would fly from it.

As the blade began to follow Sparda, he leapt into the air again, after he had landed from his original to dramatize the throw, and this time, while airborne, he sent off two kicks with each leg, firing bolts of lightning at Sparda, who would soon be dancing with a spinning blade...the distraction would give him enough time to crash into the city with the giant floating land mass, possibly killing Sparda in the process....but, deep down, he couldn't bare to do that...he would have to find a way to beat him without killing him...but he would also have to conquer Levrore....

The half-demon had a grim satisfaction set in his mind as nearly all of his attacks hit. He drew blood there-a lot of it. The smoke around themn whisped away through their strikes, being pushed by the rapid-fire motions of the two fighters. The very air itself had been swirling about them, almost being manipulated like a dancer.....in a far more deadly game.

Sudddenly, Resonate slammed his foot down onto the ground, and a explosion burst outwards, knocking both of them away. Sparda went flying backwards, and slammed into the ruins of what used to be a truck. He bounced over it-leaving a large cave-in where he had struck-and landed hard on the other side, flipping over because of the momentum. He pushed himself up quick enough, though, to hear his opponent speak to him. The smoke was almost completely gone, and he watched as Resonate twirled his blade above his head. He had a bad feeling about this. He almost fell over again as he realized that the entire island was floating, and moving towards the center of New York city.

Suddenly, the man hurled his sword towards Sparda-the weapon glowed with the light of a whole city, or so it seemed. Bringing his weapon up into a defensive position, Sparda tried to knock it away-but a blast of lighting shot out and smashed into his chest. Something near his ribs shifted in a blaze of pain. He was knocked off his feet and backwards onto the pavement, landing on his back. The blade still moved through the air, as if possessed. Pushing off with his hands, Sparda flipped off the ground backwards, narrowly missing the weapon cut him in two.

He heard thunder approach, and motioned his hand to create a shield to block two more lighting strieks sent by the mad Resonate. At the same time, though, the sword neared closer, spinning wildly towards his position. His was being attack from both sides.

He brought up his right arm, holding his sword, to block Resonate's flying weapon. This was going to hurt.

The spinning blad smashed into Sparda's sword, and ground into it. Lighting arced outwards from it towards the nearest thing-Sparda.

He felt the power of a massive amounts of volts course through his body. It was staggering, both the pain and the realization that he might be losing this fight. He held on, though, gritting his teeth and keeping the sword away. But then his barrier broke.

The toher two lighting strikes crashed through the dark energy wall, shattering it like glass, and then collided with Sparda. There was a explosion, and the half-demon was flung into the the and away, his sword being flung from his hand before he crashed into the remains of the downed Statue Of Liberty in a cloud of mortar and dust.

A few seconds passed before a figure stirred in the passing cloud. Sparda fell out of the crater his body had made, gasping for breath. His arm was bent at a irregular angle, and his face was cut. His clothes were torn, bad, nearly to tatters. Slowly, he brought his left arm over to his right, gripped the shoulder, and pushed, snapping it back in to place. He flexed that hand, before reaching down and gripping his sword that he had dropped. With is other, he snapped it down, drew a pistol, and fired nine times at Resonate, before charging forward, jumping into the air-low, going for maximum speed and momentum-towards Resonate, and unleashed a punch with all of his considerable strength.

Before he had pounced into the air, his arm had become charged with dark energy, the smoke covering it. If this blow delivered, not only would it hit with enough force to ruin a tank, but it would send a direct charge of explosion dark energy. Sparda was playing for keeps-he could almost sense what Resonate was planning, and he wouldn't allow it.

The pain that his opponent was sent into was something that made him rejoice in side...maybe he was going to win this fight...or not. Sparda took it like he had thought he would...actually, no, even more surprises, he was able to get back up. So much damage had been taken by him in that last attack, he was sure that he would finish him...but if this didn't., his next planned death blow would...or so he hoped...

As his friend stood up once more, after taking that beating, he saw something more than he had ever seen in him before....he hadn;t liked Sparda for being brave, he hadn't liked him for having a cool demeanor...he had liked him for his determination. Seeing the near broken, beaten down half demon still aching to reach his feet, and nearly crumbling on his knees, again, only to fight someone that was supposed to be a hero, sent him into an emotional state of...well, confusion.

Levrore didn;t care, but there was such a strong sense of honor in this that he felt as though Sparda deserved more than this....he would have to fight him, but....he would do it truthfully, not hiding behind something that he could blame, not be some insecure little kid anymore...he was a grown warrior, no longer a child....this, at the same time as it was a death match, a fight to the bitter end of their ability...but it was a coming of age for both of them.

This, this was what was going to decide the man that they would each become, or die as. In the ideal world, he would have lasted much longer than this in life....but at the same time, if either of them had to die, they needed to die like this....or did they? Sparda's attack sent him into a state of shock, he wasn;t ready to take the bullets, obviously, so Levrore raised a shield of electromagnetic energy to stop the nine bullets, and was nearly worn out because of it....what he didn;t see was the punch flying towards him with such insane looking amount of power into it , just as he was about to let the shield down, he was able to put it back up, only to see it be shattered right in front of his body, and with the energy behind it, he was blown away.....

Surely, a majority of the impact had been lessened, but even so, this was something that would have killed Jack had he not been vampyrical. The only thing he could say to this was just wow, simply, wow....there was nothign else he could think to say, or say to do....he was nearly dead and had nothing he could counteract with,,,,except for this.

As he stood up, the injuries on his body were countless, scars across his ribs and torn muscle in his legs, along with one or two abrasions across his right arm, which he had self defensively put up out of reflex...there was blood pouring out of him, at least,  he thought. There probably wasn't near as much as he thought there was, but the flow certainly wasn't slowing up for him.

He didn't know what to do to stop himself from simply dying of blood loss...except for searing the wounds. His enemy was more than liekly confused when he raised his hands and swung them across to the other side of his body, and a small bolt of lightning flew into his sides and his arms, burning the cuts shut...he screamed in agony, but looked up at his opponent that he would soon be facing with everything he had.

"Heh..you're pretty good....."

Was all he could mutter, as he raised one hand up, two fingers protruding from it, and he flung it downwards, signifying the land mass that they were standing on to crash into the building next to them...the empire state building, the tallest building in the world, with Sparda's body crashing into it..... destroying what little of the barely intact city was left, and debris flying like crazy....now that he didn;'t have to focus on holding up the platform, he could fight like he meant it....if his opponent was still alive.

A shock went up Sparda's arm as his punch connected. It was from the impact, not electricity, not emotion-from the raw, physical force that just smashed Resonate in the face. He only watched as his frined fell in pain. But, he was astounded when the man got back up, and not only stood despite his blood loss, but cauterized his own wounds with lightning. The willpower must have been immense.

It was here that Sparda hesitated to act. He watched as he friend was pushed to the brink of savagery. He was cut, he was torn, he was beaten-and he still got back up, pushed by the madness of his fractured psyche. Sparda could almost see a battle taking place for control of the body the two different people resided in. It hurt him, more than any attack ever could or would.

"Goddamn it, Jack....", he whispered, pain in his voice. He was snapped back to the direness of his situation as his opponent spoke.

"Heh...you're pretty good....."

Then, with one gesture, he motioned for the destruction of one of the largest and most populated cities on the face of the planet. The floating mass of the island began to fall forwards, heading towards the Empire State building. Sparda watched them descent closer to the structure, sadness in his eyes. The angle of the island now made Sparda lower than Resonate. The island smashed into the building, but the battle was far from over. Dust, steel, and smoke began rushing up the angled island at a incredible rate. The ruins of cars, helicopters, and the statue shook from the impact and began tumbling off to the crowded streets below.

Narrowing his eyes towards Resonate, Sparda sheathed his large sword, and began sprinting uphill towards the warrior. Just as the land-mass flipped from the collision of the skyscraper, he pushed off the ground-hurled forward at a extra speed because of a dark energy focus on his leg power. He centered his vision towards Resonate, towards the man he knew as friend. His whole body seemed to be covered with smoke, but it left a trail as he was now soaring through the air towards Jack/Levrore. He aimed to crash into Resonate and take them both off the land mass-hopefully saving them both. Even though he knew it was impossible, Sparda had to try and free Jack from his other. It was what his heart told him to do. It was something a friend would do.

He hurtled towards Resonate at maximum velocity.

Seeing him charge up at him, something snapped....no anger, no pain, no bones...but, just a mental tug. It was like this moment was all he had ever waited for...to know that, even in the heat of battle, even when he was trying to kill someone else, they were willing to run up and save him...he knew that there was no hatred or attacking attempt in this charge, he could see it through the sorrowful look in his eyes.

As Sparda ran up to him and the land mass collided, he reached out his hand, leaping down and grasping Sparda's wrist firmly as he held onto a lamp post that protruded from what used to be levitating ground, and hot tears swept from his face like rain in the summer, though he didn't sob, they fell of their own accord.

As he held onto what he saw as a brother, he turned up to see the moon and several breaking cars flying down at him...he was no longer Levrore, that darkness and hatred and anger was now back where it belonged, in the deeper darker sanctums of his mind, in the temple that he had used to reside in when he was confused....

As the cars flew down at him, he threw Sparda up into the air, past all of the falling debris and the metal fell, nearly on top of him, when he sent out a huge blast of lightning to obliterate the vehicles and broken steel falling, as he jolted energy through his feet and flew past Sparda, who he had used the last ounce of his strength to throw, high up into the air, in front of the full moon, he saw his friend, and wondered what emotion went through his mind right now.

As he flew past him from the jump he knew that the up draft he made would keep him from falling down and being detroyed, the thing he had made was like some sort of pit of death. He looked below it and he could see the destruction he had caused...and....it was....shocking....he...was tired of it all, it was just not right. The people that were bound to be left in the building had to be dead....and...it was because of him...look at him, his neutral friend was being more of a hero in trying to kill him than he had ever been while claiming the title of the Dragon of Ice.

After all the debris was down, and everything was said and done.....he landed on the ground, Sparda a few meters out of striking distance with his blade. They were the best of friends thick and thin, and now, he would finally be able to fight him with all of his true self... After the moon had shown through the thin clouds for many minutes, and their second staredown had finished, he acknowledged that he had turned NYC into the greatest desert ever known...uneven technology and rock supported the bare foundations of this insane place...

His mind was one, his heart was one, and his determination was one. No matter what he had done or thought before, he knew that he was ready to face his enemy....opponent...no, his friend, with all he had, and not hiding behind a mask of shadows due to a broken mental state. This was the end of the beginning, so much was going to happen after this....even if they were two men desperately going at odds to try and kill themselves, he didn;t want this to be the ending of what had been a beautiful friendship. As he picked up his blade, and swung it around, spinning it like he once had when he was a member of the VV, on the cold wintry morning it had been before recieving news of the World War beginning, before heading off to act as a mole in the Ultimates Team..before his life had started to get in motion.....

"The blade spins like life, it seems....we begin the same way we end....but maybe, maybe I wasn't alone in birth, then, if this is how I die....regardless, Sparda, it's the
 


 

As Sparda landed a short distance away from Resonate, his racing mind slowed. He realized that the man who his was engaged in a battle with was no longer the maniacal Levrore. Rather, it seemed the sane, normal side of Resonate's psyched had managed to gain temporary control over his body. But for how long?

The half-demon turned to face Jack as the man spoke to him. It was here where Sparda could only imagine the torment that Resonate had been forced ot live through. Like floating astray in the ocean-no where to go, no where to hide, no where to live. The two men had more in common than he originally believed. They had suffered terrible hardships, seen things no men should ever see, and had been forced to question their morals on more than one occasion.

And here, now, the two men, the two friends, were put into a deathlock. It was something so terribly cruel that it seemed it had to have been planned out already by a otherwordly being, who might've been having a laugh right then. The two warriors stared down, looking through into eachother's souls. Like looking into a mirror. As Resonate finished his sentence, Sparda reached behind his back, and unsheathed his sword in a slow, deliberate motion, before pointing it the opposite warrior. His eyes were heavy. One of the greatest duels to ever be witnessed was occuring in the ruins of one of the greatest cities in the world. A city that great men had built up, and perhaps even more important men had torn down in a personal conquest to do what they saw as the right thing. It was all perspective in this time-they was no right or wrong in the steel desert that they resided in. Just the answers that a blade or a bullet could provide.

"You're right, Jack. It's down to this-the end of the line. Just you, me, and our swords. This'll be a tale they'll tell eternally, one of souls and two men who wouldn't stop.

Let's finish this chapter"

With that, he sliced once in the air in front of him, in a motion to bring the sword into a appropriate attack stance. He held it with two hands, pointed forward, holding it high. He rushed forward, and subconsciously let loose a indecipherably battle cry. No witty criticism. No pun. Just a yell of a basic emotion.

Once as close to Resonate as needed, he slashed once diagonally down, pivoted and spun, slashing again, before shooting a blast of dark energy at the ruined pavement beneath Resonate-something powerful enough to make it explode underneath him. No more talk for either. Just actions, and the book would close soon enough.

Seventeen steps, nineteen breaths, that was what it had taken his friend to reach him from across the ruined pavement and schrapnel of the remaining city from where he had been standing. His battle cry sent chills down his spine, and he wondered if he was going to be able to match the fighting spirit that he had just displayed.

His sword rose up at a seemingly slow rate, though it had just been the styling fluid motion of the blade that he had used to complete the action, to block his sword strike. He was worn and tired, little was left in him to go all out with a lightning bolt attack. He was struck by the second sword swing and blood poured from him....his emotion was far to much to handle for him to be able to strike back at the insane speed that he had been previously.

As these actions occured, he felt his heart skip several beats , time almost slowing down for him, as he thought about how much Sparda had changed since the beginning of the fight. At the beginning, he seemed to be the same person he had always known, the strong, cold hearted fighter that was willing to slit his best friends throat the save a few people.

Maybe that idealogy wasn't that cold hearted when you came to think about it, but at the same time it was proving that he was self less...which was something he had learned was not always a good thing...you have to learn to make your self priorities to enjoy life...but at the same time be willing to sacrafice. If this were the case, then...he didn't want to have to be something so worthless that his best friend would have to sacrafice to save a few meaningless, hateful people born of this world.

The dark blast shot below him and he felt the ground beneath him rise, and combust before his very eyes. He was knocked back by several hundred feet, and cushioned his fall with electricity..the pain had come so swiftly and the burns were so much that he was unable to feel it at this point.

He lay on the ground, waiting for himself to get back together...and as Levrore started to take control again, the place of battle switched to his mind, where he was fighting himself...but not for long. He had in truth waited for this all too long,  to take himself back. To fight back against the creeping sorrow inside him that wanted to kill everything he could see, to reclaim the mind he once used for himself, and not for death and all of it's friends. He stood up, with a new, regained self, no longer was he going to lie to prove that he was "sane" anymore, he was going to show.

"My actions....are going to speak for me now, you're right. So, let's do close this book up, the new one needs to start soon...I'm not holding back anything at all, I promise."

He said, a slight half smile making his words sound alarming, as he reached down and grabbed his sword he had dropped. His face was bleeding, his heart was pounding, he could barely see anything anymore, and he was bruised and abrased all throughout his body, pain creeping onto him in places he didn't even know he had.

As he picked it up, he leaned forward, and picked off his shoes, tossing them aside from himself, he never found anything far to useful coming from wearing them, they just made his feet ache. Now he was going to be able to fight like a true self, a wolf leaning forward to strike. Taking his blade and putting it vertically across in fron of his face, he let out his very own battle cry, a scream far from Sparda's, a deep, yet still striking yell of hatred, hapiness, and relief, in a sense. It was as though two voices had spoken through that cry, one being Jack's and the other the demon he had just locked away, in a scream of intense hatred. A battle was being won and lost in the same instance for the man as he let loose thousands of bolts of lightning in joy and focus, prepared to fight his friend to the end, if that was the case.

He took his blade, and charging forward clearing the distance between the two men he swung it all around his body, like a sphere of metal, as his light shone throughout the sky, trying to slice open his partner, friend, and somewhat of a mentor, with so many emotions driving him that he didn't know what to describe himself as.

Jack seemed slower than he was earlier-much slower. Whether or not that was a good thing or a bad thing Sparda didn't think about-he didn't think he could think about it, as if it was mentally impossible to draw a thought away from the battle he was in. After knocking Resonate back quite a distance, he lost sight of the man, and so stood, waiting, breathing heavily. After a few moments, he befored a jump that soared him through the air and towards Resonate, whom he landed fifteen or so metres away from.

Gradually, the warrior got back to his feet and spoke what could very well be his last words....or the last ones that Sparda would ever hear. He listened alright, through his adrenaline fueld battle state. He understood them well enough-no more holding back. For either of them.

Resonate charged at him, spinning his sword around his body in a highly dangerous manoever. Sparda-his reflexes at their peak-leaned back, pushed off the ground while spinning in a revolution, a human corkscrew. It flew over teh blade, narrowly, the tip of it slicing through a single strand of his hair. As he began to fall, he pushed out with his arms, and caught the ground, facing Resonate directly now-except he was upside down. The sword came nearer. Sparda pushed off, hoping that he would be fast enough to dodge-like he always was.

Not this time.

The sword came so close that if Sparda had been less than a millimetre away, it would have barely missed. Now though, he sliced right into his face, on the ride side of his nose. It dragged across his cheek and upwards, going deep and drawer a red spray of blood. This would've been fine enough, except that the sword continued, not yet drawing away, and sunk into his eye.

The adrenaline wore off. He wasn't moving in what seemed like slow motion anymore-he was going real time. The blade sliced through his eyeball, before drawing away and leaving a bloody trail in the air. The force was strong enough to send Sparda out of his dodge and flying through the air, before crashing down onto the ruins of what used ot be a building. A puff of smoke and rubble shot out upon his impact. Quickly, though, he fell out of it and down the slope of sharp rubble, tearing his clothes even further. He hit the ground, and rolled to a stop.

For a few moments, he didn't stir. The wind picked up, and dust kicked around the ruins of downtown New York. Then, Sparda moved his arm, and pushed up off the cracked pavement.

His face was bleeding heavily, and his right eye was a mess. You actually couldn't see the remains of the slashed eyeball, since it was bleeding so much. He sheathed his sword and raised up his empty hand, a little too calm and steady, and felt his bleeding face, following the trail up to his eye. Upon touching the socket, he drew back suddenly, and lowered his hand.

He gritted his teeth, before wrapping to the remains of his coat around his left arm and pulling, shredding what remained of the jacket and tossing it aside, the red blood not noticeable on the crimson cloak. Underneath, he wore was a somewhat torn vest and his jeans, boots, and gloves. His eyes-or eye and socket-suddenly flashed, smoke drawing aroudn them and the glowing a dull red. He drew back both of his arms, now covered in the dense smoke, and then thrust them both forward violent, the two hands stopping close together.

As soon as he did this, a huge, bright beam of energy-not dark, something else it seemed-shot out, easily three times the height of width of himself. It burst towards Resonate violently with a shrill noise that sounded like a high-pitched scream. On it's way, it passed by the ruins of two cars, which were vapourized by the passing energy, leaving nothing but dust. Sparda maintained it, not letting go, until he whipped it aside like a whip, a path it followed like a laser. Though he did not mean it, he had cut off a dive to any side by the wide arc of the massive beam.

He stumbled forward a few steps before falling to one knee. A moment later, and he stood back up. While he did look furious, he was quickly running out of energy.

As his blade sunk into his friend's eye, he felt a strange emotion....he wasnt necessarily sick to the stomach, but he did feel a little queasy....this was a proof of still some humanity into him. The blood dripped down his face, crimson waterfalls...like he was crying tears of blood, he felt that he had committed some great act of betrayal.

To him, the most disgusting thing in the world to allow happen would be to betray someone...and here he had just betrayed his only true friend, the only one that had been through what he had, the only one that saw him as a human still, not some scary freak of nature that people would rather have on their side just to fight with, not to meet.

He could see him in pain, and it made him feel like he was doing something that would make him want to kill himself afterwards...but, this wasn't just a fight, it was a finishing, an opening to a new chapter...a new start for one of them, maybe...but who knew, right? Only god would tell them what their fate was, but, quite frankly, he didn't really care to know.

Looking at his half blinded friend, his heart sunk...and in an act of hatred for himself, he took his own blade and carved down the left side of his face, opposite of his right, and dug into his eye slowly, matching him, and not being able to se as the blood dripped from it. He knew that this was part of his resolve...and that he would be as solid as it took for his message to get through...whatever it was.

He wanted this to be something he remembered, something that would change him as a person.....and it was then that he realized...once Sparda has fired a blast at him so powerful that it vapourized nearly everything in it's path....it was then he realized that he could do better than this. It was then, then, after all this, then, that he realized he wanted them both to see the daylight again....to live. Seeing the blast come his way, there was no way of dodging it, and barely any of matching it with power.

Sparda didn't know of this revelation, so he would probably still try to kill him once this was over, but he was finally going to change himself...he was going to be the one that reached out and saved them, he was going to be the one that would do the saving, he wasnt going to fall back behind again.

From now on, he was going to lead his life, and he was going to protect whatever he could that was worth protecting....seconds before the blast hit, he raised both his arms and spun around, in a strange motion, and pulled every last bit of energy around him up from the surrounding destruction, there was still so much for him to take and use....he felt as if this had been the last place he should have fought, it being his home, but now he saw...that this was here for a purpose, and was going to save him and his friend...if he survived this last blow.

With all the energy he had, and more importantly, new found faith, he threw everything he had at the blast of all flowing and seemingly never ending light that was flowing from Sparda's arm...as the multiple lightning strikes fought at the giant whip like attack, he felt his very soul collide with an obstacle that was known as a cold heart, but at the same time sadness for Sparda......with their oppositely sighted eyes, he struck with all his soul, and it was not enough.

That blast took him down, but not before the lightning went through the huge attack, striking Sparda more than likely, through his own attack...used to pierce it like a thin needle through a sponge, in a sense. As he struggled to breathe even, he lay on the ground. Nothing left, he had nothing. Just the bare life force of electricity he needed to survive...a stupid thing for him to try and waste in an attack.

He thought that he was going to die, just lying there, this time for real...because he really had nothing to fight back with, unless they had both been knocked out. He felt like he had ended it well, though...lying down on top of a large rock in the middle of the destroyed place he had come to hate....all his life...and he thought that if he had killed Sparda, well, it would have just been okay.....he would off himself, too, he didnt want to lose his only friend like that. He had a strange feeling that he wasnt dead yet, though....and felt like he was going to be killed, if they had the same determined mindset....but he didnt want to die without him....and he knew though, that he wouldnt succeed in fighting back at this point, there was nothing.

At least...he thought there wasnt....until feeling the rain drops fall and hit his face, and bleeding eye...the other one blurring....and the sound of thunder rolled across the black sky, and it flashed into daylight for a split second...there was actually a lot now.

Sparda couldn't see what Resonate's action was to counter his own attack, as the beam he had fired was much too large, and one of his eyes were gone. However, before his opponent had been put out of his sight, Sparda had saw Resonate cut down his face and into his own eye, spraying a gush of blood down onto the ground and painting it red. The beam still moved forth, and over it the half-demon watched as massive flows of electricity formed onto one central power conduit-Resonate. With a huge crack of thunder, the two blasts met, and instinctively, Sparda unsheathed his sword and brought it in front of him to block what he though would be a explosion. Instead of the two colossal sources of energy making one devastating blast, Resonate's attack passed through Sparda's.

The man didn't see this right away though, so he brought his sword down to his side, waiting to see the fate of his friend. Then, the lightning struck.

Resonate's attack smashed into Sparda's chest, sizzling through his vest and burning the surface of his skin. He flashed for a moment, his whole skeletal structure visible through his skin, like an x-ray readout. He was flung backwards, flying straight, low to the ground, his sword being flung from his hand and into the air, temporarily out of sight. He smashed into the reimains of a truck, and upon his impact, half of the ruins of the vehicle shattered off and flew backwards. He himself hit the object with such force that he felt at least three of his bones break, and he slumped down, one arm holding onto the hood for support. He was losing consciousness. He vaguely noticed that it had began to rain. A trace of a smirk showed on the corner of his lips.  He began to push off of the truck, his body aching.

Shuck!

He was rocked back against the remains of the automobile, slamming against it. He looked down, a trail of blood coming out of his mouth.

"D-damn....now....what were the chances of that...?"

He gazed down at his sword, sticking into his stomach and out his back, jabbing into the burnt out metal of the truck. He tried to move, but was pinned, and he feebly fell back. Regaining some composure, he planted both palms flat against the truck, and pushed, with all of his remaining strength. With a screech, the sword pulled out of the steel, and he fell to the pavement, the rain sweeping down onto him, mixing with the blood now coming steadily out of his midsection.

Gradully, he moved his arms, and began to crawl towards where he believed Resonate to be. It was agony, movign that far, that slow. The rain increased, now becoming a downpour, the drops splashing up around him. A trail of blood lead away from the truck, but it was slowly being washed away by the storm. He was close enough now to Resonate, and he tried to speak, but was drowned out by the rain. Mustering up his last remaining energy, he yelled hoarsely.

"Well, Resonate......guess you're pretty lucky, after all....", he coughed, blood flying out of his mouth. Unbelieveable. He was going to end like this. So much more for him to do, so much for him to make up for......was this his purpose? If only it would mean something more. He still had so many adventures left, he was.....the son of Xargus, he was son of the man who beat the devil. And he was going to die by his own sword. He spoke again, quickly now, his vision fading.

"Looks like you.....h-hit the....jackpot...."

With that, he slumped down, blood and water mixing around him in a murky red, like his coat, brought back to him.

He stood up, and looked at his now defeated friend....he knew that this was his chance. If Levrore had been in control, Sparda would have been dead now. He had seen the determined man, crawling towards him, half dead, half blind...he looked down and saw the pathetic mass of life that had once been one of the best fighters he had ever known.

"Well, Resonate......guess you're pretty lucky, after all....Looks like you.....h-hit the....jackpot...."

He wanted to seem tough in this next motion, but he wasn't, he had nothing left that he could do to make himself look strong, nothing that he could say or hope, that would stop his eyes from tearing up....even the one that he had sacrificed, was starting to drip down more fluidly than it had been. He reached down, grabbed his friend by the back of the hair with one arm, and lifted him to his feet, propping him up out of the mix of steel , blood, and water and saw that he was dead.

He didn't know what he would do....what he could do....and he held him in his arms and pushed him up against a piece of debris upright by himself, being dead, this wasn't easy....he reached up, and spoke softly, his voice barely more than a whisper...... "Dont' die...you cant..."  as he pulled the sword that had impaled his best friend out with swift precise movements of fear and nervousness...he had never tried this before, but there were no more risks if he was dead anyways.

His palm pressed against the stab wound that had struck Sparda in his stomach, and then his other on his heart...still beating, but slowly...be knew what to do....his arm charged with electricity, he pulsed  it through into him, like his own life was circulating into him, hoping that his heart was going to start beating again....the rain was loud, but he could hear it beat....the intensity of the moment stopped nothing, and as the blood poured out, he seared his wound like he had himself earlier in the fight....he was breathing....he could feel it.....but it was slower than normal....regardless of what was going on, he had to get him somewhere where there would be better healers than him.....

He shocked him several more times as light as he could, his heart continuing to beat...he had just brought someone back from the dead, and his best friend no less. he lifted him onto his shoulders and picked up the blade that had just killed him, and sheathed the two swords he now had with him....as he slowly trudged through the broken city, half dead, half blind, he thought what he could do...and nothing came to mind.

For the first time in his life, he was hating the rain...he would warp there......he would warp to the Dragon's Lair, and save him, but in the rain...it would almost kill him. It looks like this would be a risk he would have to take...As he held him on his back, still barely alive, he could still feel his heart beating, and decided that he would have to do this....the electricity surrounded him, and he blasted off into the sky once he had the lightning necessary..he made sure that Sparda was protected, but he had to take all of the conductive force...and, they reached the Ice Dragon's Lair...where he was welcome...and tried to take him to Iceingdeath, though it was likely that he would need just as much healing if he survived this.... as he burned on his skin, and felt the blasting pain...he slowly trudged through the cave, finding the great hall of Ice where he had met the dragon once before....and placed him on the ground.

"If you can heal him....then I'll be indebted to you forever...my sins have reached yet another man of valor, he did not need to die...he didn;'t even need to take a scratch...Im sorry, I have been unable to be the member of your Divine Court of warriors and guardians after all...I should never have been graced by your presence...I am truly sorry...."

These were the only  words he could mutter before he closed his eyes....whether or not he would ever see through either again he did not know, the darkness came on like death's sweet embrace...though he did not feel drawn out of the light, he felt as though he had just made himself even more unified. And now, he really did resonate...what an ironic handle for the man who had been through it all...

Pretty good damn story!
I liked it.