The transit between the worlds was every bit as stomach churning the first time, it was not however quite as unexpected or anything near as much of a wrench, all of which meant that Nabiki got to experience the wonder of the passage, the instant bone chilling cold, the complete out of body experience, the rush of a universe as it passed through her, and the acute awareness of the vast nothingness that she was passing through.

It wasn't dark there, dark would require some degree of light to perceive, and it wasn't just empty, emptiness implied there was some form of container. Instead it was Void, matchless emptiness that defied rational comprehension; as if to even try to understand the nature of such was to connect to it's lifeless non-existence.

Needless to say that Nabiki's first thought, as she tumbled to the hard stone floor the other side of the gate, was one of acute relief, to be whole once more and surrounded by the amazing complexity of an existence her senses could rationalise. From the scents of musty gloom that suddenly replaced the cavern's sulphur and brimstone to the far away drone of traffic, from the graffiti on the walls to the defaced icons on what had once been an altar everything was suddenly much more familiar and instinctively, desperately she clung to the idea that they were home.

Her second thought however was less welcome; cold fear gripping her gut and replacing that moment of euphoria, she had turned about to look for those friends who were not with her, who were not currently sprawled out on these darkened stone pavings, and instead she found herself looking back into the gate and through it.

This side it was no less alien than it had been the other, a rippling disturbance in the material that made up the universe she knew. It was the same ten feet or so high and the same eight wide, but it only seemed to have depth when looked at straight on. In this case it was girded around by no archway but instead seemed to hang in empty air, a distinctly two-dimensional slice in a three dimensional world.

Nabiki quickly recognised that her mind was deliberately seeking out things to notice other than what she had turned to look for, her perceptions procrastinating so that she wouldn't have to face the truth she already feared deep in her guts, that it would already be over for those not already with her.

Instead she bore witness to what might have been Ryoga's greatest moment. With ice clamping around her heart Nabiki had quickly spotted the magma heading for her Ranma, had quickly taken in just how out of it the master martial artist was, and how little chance even he had of pulling another one out of his sleeve.

For a dreadful moment she had thought it was going to be the very last sight of him, buried and burned so many millions of miles away from where she was.

Then Ryoga stepped in, his unmistakable fighter's form suddenly interposing itself between Ranma and the magma, his rush turning into a stance. She watched as the young man with the fangs planted his feet and turned to face the approaching death, she watched as that the light from that same chunk of hell painted the pig boy in scarlet and shadow and saw him thrust out his hand, paired fingers first, towards the onrushing comet.

From here she couldn't hear the cry that tore from his throat but she had heard it enough time anyway to know exactly the words spoken. Her heart seemed to stop entirely, the world slow to a terrible crawl as the lost boy attempted to use his breaking point on two tons of molten rock.

Nabiki had no way of knowing how difficult such a feat was, how much the finding of a breaking point relied on instinctive knowledges of stone and rock, and how much relied on being able to perfectly see the target. She had no way of knowing that even a most experienced matriarch of the Joketsu would have balked at the idea of what Ryoga was proposing to do, even without the corona of fire that shrouded the superheated stone now plunging irrevocably towards the two young men.

Nor did she doubt her friend, or his ability to once more do the impossible, this was no time to fail him as he was not failing them, but none of that stopped the water gathering in her eyes

The explosion was immense, the ki fuelled shattering of that bomblet casting it to pieces which in turn scattered about the point of impact like some terrible rocket explosion into a firelit dawn, soul energy warring with the bonds tat held the universe together.

But Nabiki's eyes were not on the pyrotechnics, not watching the starkly beautiful cascade of fire that the shattering created, they were instead upon the figures haloed in the centre of the conflagration.

With eyes already tearing, eyes that so desperately wanted to turn away but remained locked to the horrid scene. Later in her dreams she would vividly remember the way Ryoga's fingers were blackening even before the rock arrived, she would darkly recall the way his clothes lit up with that brilliant yellow flame, his bandana and the hair beneath it combining to turn him into some macabre candle.

Her gorge rose as she saw his skin seem to peel away, his flesh seem to run and the whole lot steadily turn blacker than the night itself.

She screamed as the force of the impact drove the valiant young man from his stance and threw him back, to the very feet of the man he had just saved, the nerves in his body still making the ruins of his form twitch even though the life had to have fled, as the tears that had been threatening became a reality she finally closed her eyes, unable to continue to watch the tumultuous shifts in fate beyond that gate.

Through the haze of pain, the dizziness of his concussion and the blur in his eyes Ranma had seen it all, had fought to understand and appreciate what had just happened and what it meant.

Unlike Nabiki he did know how difficult that feat had been, unlike Nabiki he had known from the very moment that Ryoga took his stance that the Lost boy had to know how his attempt would end. There simply had been no way for Ryoga to walk away from that one.

Yet he had chosen to do it anyway, to stand between Ranma and death, even though it cost him his own life.

The idea cut through the pig tailed warrior, threw away any hints of the concussion or that calm acceptance of fate that had so recently held him. And in it's place was a cold, implacable focus.

With the deceptive speed of a glacial avalanche Ranma flowed to his feet and stamped one leg back into use. With the storm of his remaining eye suddenly still and icy Ranma looked first to the recovering dragon and then to the friend who had proven himself once and for all, who had literally taken a stand where no other dared. And in the burned eyes of a dying comrade Ranma found his answer.

Since the moment he had heard of the dragon Ranma had been looking for a way to beat it, wracking his brain for a solution to the problem that was this paragon of predators. He hadn't found one. Until now.

The whole chamber resounded to the hatred of the dragon, vibrating in sympathy to it's fiery rage, roaring along with the beast that had made this place it's home.

The biggest problem had always been the magic, it was something that Ranma didn't understand, and never could, his mind just wasn't made that way. Basically whatever technique Ranma threw at the great beast would either be negated by it's size or it's own draconic power. To even hurt it he had been forced to do the impossible, to beat it he would have to do the unthinkable.

As the dragon gathered itself to it's clawed feet and hurled itself back towards this agent of agony that had invaded it's lair it wasn't thinking about the comparative difference in size, it wasn't thinking about the small victory it had just won by killing the creature's friend and it wasn't thinking about how all these things had come to pass. Instead it and it's power had become one thing, a physical embodiment of draconic anger. It would utterly destroy this thing, would annihilate it from the face of the universe and remove every trace of it from existence.

It was not thinking of half measures and the time for using them in reply was passed.

In the years since Nerima Ranma had not been idle, not been further wasting his time, his knowledge of his calling had only increased, and more than that his knowledge of the underpinning principles had finally started to flesh out.

The amazon techniques were shortcuts, were methods of teaching tricks that reflected greater skills, they were simplifications of deeper principles, ones that were nevertheless amazing in their own rights but perhaps most useful to the true martial artist only as guidelines to the greater truths.

The Soul of ice was an attempt to do the impossible, to let a fighter become one with the emptiness that diametrically opposed the living energy of flaring ki, it was an attempt to let a warrior touch the void and survive intact.

In the dying light of Ryoga's eyes Ranma had seen that void, in the rippling surface of the gate he had sensed it, and in the towering power of Draconic rage he had almost found it's complete opposite.

Beyond the gate Nabiki, through re-opened still tearing eyes, saw the change in Ranma, saw the hard focus and saw the sudden resolution, a part of her was suddenly more afraid now than ever before.

She watched as Ranma crouched and seemed to draw something up from his friend, she watched as he turned, beginning some deliberate pattern on the rolling cavern floor and she saw as he turned to look at the gate.

Across the incomprehensible distance their eyes met and a small part of Nabiki understood, and mourned for what Ranma must do. She watched as he threw out his arm and the gathered energy with it. She watched as he built a bridge between himself and that soulless nothingness. With her heart in her mouth she saw him trail that energy like some vital gymnastic ribbon, teasing on the nothingness behind it.

She saw the shadow of the dragon's power sweep over Ranma like a hellborn wind and she saw Ranma slowly turn back to the creature that had taken so much from him. The touch of the Void became an Embrace and then a Blade, a hard edged projection of absolute non-existence that no power could meet unscathed.

She didn't hear the words, didn't need to know them, on some deep level she understood their meaning without. And she saw their effects.

The trailing vortex of the Void caught up with Ranma at the same time as the fiery blaze of the Dragon's wrath and the two met with an indescribable force. Light blazed, nothingness roiled, heat flared and icy vacuum absorbed, the air split and two pillars of the universe warred.

"Ranma" she whispered, completely unaware that two other voices joined her in her prayer. The gate, in all it's ancient power, in all it's unfathomable complexity rippled and rocked but that was nothing compared to the destruction wrought beyond.

At the very eye of the storm Ranma existed in an endless moment, suspended perfectly between the forces of creation and entropy, watching the clash through blazing eyes, thinking only of holding the power in place and finishing what he had started.

It finished with thunder, with a tumultuous crash that split the air and the mountain itself. It finished with fire and ice, and it finished with utter destruction. All that was great about the dragon, all that was mystical and all that was so much more than mortal ended in that crash, was utterly annihilated, banished from the world and from existence.

The rest just spread all over the walls.

"Ewww" Ukyo offered, wincing at the veritable cloud of gore that suddenly expanded out from where the great Dragon had once been, feeling her stomach rebel at the nearly recognisable chunks of innards that had once been the proudest of beasts.

But, as with the others by her side, the gore was soon cast from her mind; because there, at the very epicentre of the cataclysm, stood a single figure, his pigtail settling about him even as the scarlet rain showered down over his slightly smoking form.

"Ranma" she heard Nabiki breathe again, and with it a tingle ran up through every inch of the chef's body. This was the truth of the man she had once loved with all her heart, the man who when faced with the utterly devastating would somehow find a way to be the last man standing, the man who had defied a force of nature and was living to tell the tale.

"And Ryoga" Gos added, his voice rasping from deep emotion. Coming back to this side had brought a renewal of the pain and handicap that had dogged his every recent day before the transfer. With that had come the darker emotions that had filled so very much of his young life, that same sense of hopelessness and protective cynicism, as they had watched the pig tailed warrior had reached down and picked up the blackened form of the other hero, had gently cradled the ruined remains to his chest and looked to them once more, "what's left of him" Gos corrected.

The scale of what they witnessed was still running through their minds, resounding in their hearts as they fought to make sense of it all, amidst all the other issues resurging in his life it was all Gos could do to translate even those thoughts to words.

"Bugger that!" Ukyo offered, referring to the same awe that seemed to be gripping them all rather than their fallen friend. "RUN!" she hollered at the top of her voice.

Alone of them she seemed to still be aware of the nature of the place Ranma stood in, alone of them she remembered the true existence of that mountain and apparently alone she had connected the dots of the death of the Dragon with what was likely to happen now.

But the others were not far behind and soon all of them were shouting, waving, gesticulating, calling on their friend with all their heart and soul even if their voices could not be heard.

Ranma looked up and through the distance he understood, moments later, as the Volcano began it's passage back to life, he was running, his great powerful bounds tearing up the space between him and the gate.

"Faster you prat" Nabiki offered, the others had fallen silent now, and even her own voice was little above a whisper. Gos crossed his fingers, Nabiki found her hand suddenly clenched into Ukyo's and the three of them held their breaths as one.

Lava churned, a mountain shook, quakes split the rock, fire leapt high again and through it all one man ran for all he was worth, his renewed desire to live not countenancing any failure right now.

His friends watched as a lava flow washed away the bottom of the steps, they watched as their friend seemed to once more ignore small matters like gravity and injuries that should have been debilitating and leap through the heat hazed air to dive headfirst into the rippling surface of the gate, his precious burden still clutched to his chest.

They saw as for that inestimable moment he was held between the two realities, neither here nor there nor truly in between either. Then they finally saw him crash down into the darkened room they occupied, roll across the floor and back to his bared feet.

With him came the acidic stench of that doomed chamber, the trailing hint of ozone and the overwhelming, hideous smell of burnt flesh, the first two rising from him, the third from the carbonised form his rolling had deposited onto the floor.

For two precious moments there was only silence, the young man, who had defied every rule the onlookers knew, standing there despite all the evidence to the contrary, despite all their fears and despite all the odds, albeit he was smoking a bit.

Behind him the once rippling portal went dark and still.

"Hi guys" he offered with a smile that said that the evidence was once more taking a backseat and that once more all was just fine with a world lucky enough to have Saotome Ranma in it.

Later Nabiki would have cause to remember that there had been something not quite complete about that smile, somewhat different from the ones she had known, but for the moment she didn't care.

She didn't feel herself run to him, didn't notice the distance disappear and didn't care. Instead she wrapped him into her arms a hugged him as a drowning man might a liferaft. A moment later Ukyo was there too, also redefining the word 'glomp,' and behind her Gos waved a congratulatory hand from his place on the floor.

"That was amazing" he offered.

"I can't believe it" said another voice "we won!"

"You're alive!" one of them offered, but Ranma wasn't listening, and even the fantastic feeling of those congratulations was being pushed into the background because he was instead looking right at the form he had left behind as he had rolled, and the form curled up near it that was what his first fiancée had become.

The confident phrase they were all expecting didn't come, the elation started to bleed away already. Gradually the others noticed the hole that the lack of that boast had left, and noticed the direction of Ranma's gaze.

Other things started to sink in too. They were home, back to the world of their birth and all else that they had known all their young lives. The evidence was all around them, even the tacky logos on the discarded wrappers and rubbish that littered the corners of this dark place proclaimed it; they had left that world behind them and were free again.

"I'm alive" Ranma whispered, and the wind itself seemed to supply the rest of the sentence. The pig tailed hero's heart might still be beating but others weren't, and as their eyes slowly looked back away from the remains of their late friend, and back to the faces of their living ones it was easy to see that each and every one of them had paid a price, one they would need a miracle to ever set right again.

"Hold on" Gos said quietly, his eyes crossing as he concentrated so very hard.

Ranma and Ukyo looked at him hard, trying to work out what exactly he was getting at, but the hardest glare was coming from Nabiki who was starting to feel the same thing that he was.

Ever since they had come back to this side a nagging sensation that both of the magically gifted youngsters had felt on the other side had been changing from a whisper to a shout.

"Something's not right" Gos supplied, closing his eyes over as he tried to force his thoughts to collect and steady from the rollercoaster ride they had just been on.

"What?" asked Ranma, a dread feeling settling into his chilling heart. All sorts of horrid scenarios ran through his mind, things about this being some trick of the dragon's, an illusion to test their intentions, things like this not being their world, and things like this not

"Nothing like that" Nabiki said, closing her own eyes as she duplicated the once more maimed man's expression of concentration. Their magic might be gone, and with it that coiled power but there was something else gone with it, something that they had been aware of yet not aware of all this time.

"The ASSHOLE!" Nabiki offered, just as the other two were starting to fidget once more, finally the thoughts that had been lingering, the nagging feelings had coalesced into the idea that had been missing.

It had been there all along, but something, or someone, had not been allowing her to realise it. "Deighton!" she growled and a moment later Gos's cry of fury joined in.

And the pair of them had a lot of fury to chuck about, their already wound up emotions easily converting the joy of their release and the despair of their losses into hot anger as they realised that all this time someone hadn't been playing fair.

"What?" Ranma asked, looking around in case the man in question was here, even though he had no idea at all what he looked like.

"Ranma" Nabiki asked, her voice an angry saw, rage in every syllable, "would you say I was an ignorant person?" she asked and the room fell silent to look at them, Ukyo being suddenly very glad that Nabiki was asking Ranma and not her.

"Hell no" Ranma replied, getting the right answer for once, even straight off the cuff, "you're the smartest person I know" he added, still not sure where this was going but sensing this wasn't the time to ask.

"Then do you want to tell me why I fixated on the Gate?" she asked, "why we never even considered other options?" she added, "why I didn't even stop to see if there was some profit to be made coming back through?" she asked.

Ranma shook his head, suddenly wondering why as well. Nabiki had grown up a lot too but she was still the sort of person that might stop halfway through her own funeral to make a little extra money should the opportunity be there. For her not to have the entire time they were on the other side….

"Why, despite all we were told about the Healing hand I never once considered taking my sister there?" she growled, "Or taking you there?" she said and by now even the magically inept Ranma was starting to suspect the answer.

"Deighton pissed with our minds!" Ukyo growled, and Gos growled an affirmative reply back.

"Probably while we were passed out the other side" Gos insisted, "before we were able to sense it." All the way through that trip he had known there was something amiss, had known there was something not quite right, but something had forced him to dismiss it, to ignore that feeling. And there was only one person whose adgenda made that likely.

"All of it was his fault!" Gos fumed, "all of it!" he said, while inside there was still a little voice asking if that was true. The rage was only nearly overshadowing the quiet insecurity that asked whether he too hadn't had something to do with this, wether how much he had wanted that hadn't been a key part.

"I'll kill him" Ukyo growled, already envisaging a slow blunt force future for the man who had been even more responsible for this than they thought he had, "painfully" she asserted in a tone that left absolutely no doubt as to her sincerity.

"No" interrupted a cold hard voice, "you won't" it insisted and all eyes turned towards the speaker, more than one set full of fury ready to argue just how right that killing would be.

To their surprise it was from Ranma's mouth those words had come, and to their surprise his face had slipped back into that grim fighting mask he wore before his more treacherous battles. "Not until he's fixed this" Ranma insisted, nodding towards the prostrate Akane and even stiller Ryoga.

"Fixed this?" Ukyo asked, her anger not letting go that quickly.

"You heard them" Ranma offered, not being specific about who 'they' were, but not really caring, inside his anger was a cold hard lance and explanations could wait.

He turned on his heel and stalked towards the boarded up door that blocked this forgotten cellar from the outside world. "Bring Ryoga and help Gos" he ordered

"What do you mean!" growled Ukyo, falling back on her own anger to make sense of a universe suddenly moving without her.

"There's magic the other side" Nabiki said, a cold weight settling into her own heart, "magic enough to undo some of the damage" she said, turning away and heading for Gos to help him as Ranma had ordered. "We're going back" she said, shattering all the dreams of home because she could do no less for the people who had already done so much for her.

"Oh hell" Ukyo offered, and she was right.