Warning: This chapter might upset a few readers, as it has a few 9/11 references in it. I also apologise for the short length of this chapter and hope that it will not detract from your enjoyment of it.
BEGIN TRANSMISSION #11
Danny had closed his eyes after the bandages had been removed. After so long in the darkness, the light had been blinding and had hurt. Yet there had been so little, for Dr. Manson had had the foresight to dim the room with black curtains and had turned off the lights.
"Oh, it's still too bright?" Dr. Manson had asked Danny, after he had seen Danny close his eyes again. "I'm sorry. Just try to get used to the light. You'll have to."
The youth's glimpse had been so brief that he hadn't been
able to see the doctor that had taken care of him for so long. It had
been too blurred anyway. Perhaps, though, he would have been able to
see Dr. Manson, given time. He had hoped to be able to see the
generous physician whom had devoted so much of his time to
"It's… It's all right," Danny had told the doctor. "I'd just… forgotten what it was like…"
Phantom's eyes glowed an eerie green, as he glowered at Fake Jasmine. They weren't his original eyes; those had been damaged a long time ago. No, when Dr. Manson had operated on him, he had given Danny new eyes, cybernetic ones that were far better than any that were normally available. These eyes had allowed Danny to see in full colour, something that was not normally available at the time, and in such great resolution, that they were almost like real eyes.
It had taken him a long time to get adjusted to his new eyes, just as it had taken him a long time to get adjusted to his cybernetic limbs and eventually his powers as Phantom. There had been much trial and error on his behalf. Sam had helped him. Tucker had helped him. He had received so much help from his friends. There was no way he could let them down, not after all they had been through.
"You're no sister of mine," Phantom shouted at Fake Jasmine. "You're no friend of mine. My real friends were there for me when I needed them most, but you were never there. I could always turn to them, but where were you?" He charged up another plasma bolt in his hands and steadied himself. "It's no use apologising now," he told Fake Jasmine. "It's no use being there for me now. It's too late."
All the while, Fake Jasmine had looked down on him, smiling. Her
smile never once left her lips. It was as if Phantom's words had
not fazed her at all.
"Such a horrible boy," she said after a while of silence, as she floated there, her metallic angel wings unmoving. "To forgive and forget is the greatest mercy that I can grant. It is a sign of ultimate compassion that only those with a pure heart can give. Yet you would not forgive? Your heart is impure. There is no room for the likes of you in my new world."
With her last word, Fake Jasmine spread her arms out. A brilliant
blast of light sped through the air and knocked Phantom off his feet
before he could even leap out of the way.
"The old President is dead," called out Fake Jasmine. "His Reign of Hatred is over. My Reign of Love will begin." She fired another dazzling blast of light energy straight at Phantom.
"Is that all you've got?" taunted Phantom again, as it went straight through his intangible body. He was relieved to still find that Fake Jasmine's shot had not made him lose concentration and that the charge of plasma energy was still held firmly in his hands. "That was nothing. Let me show you how it should be done." With that, he fired a blast of plasma energy straight back up at Fake Jasmine.
Metallic wings curled round Fake Jasmine protectively and the plasma blast hit them. The wings spread back out again. Fake Jasmine continued to smile. Her right hand was partially clenched into a fist with her first finger and ring finger stretched out and upwards. The tips of both fingers began to glow and she drew a religious symbol in the air that lingered there, before it hurtled straight down at Phantom.
"May my righteous fires burn your sinful body," called out Fake Jasmine, before she inhaled sharply and breathed out. A plume of flames erupted from her mouth and hurtled down towards her target. She missed, but the flames scorched the ground like napalm.
Phantom looked past the roaring flames towards the metallic figure of Fake Jasmine. His entire body was like a tightly wound coil; he was ready to leap into action. Every single muscle, every single hydraulic system in his body anticipated another blow. Dr. Gotik may have told him that none of his actions had been his own, but that of the Phantom Armour, the very cybernetic implants that had been given to him mistake; none of that mattered, anymore.
The cyborg sprang into action. He ran straight through the flames without even going intangible. The air filled up with bolts of pure light that struck the ground with such heavy shocks that Phantom was nearly shaken off his feet. He leapt up out of the flames and smashed a plasma-charged fist straight into her.
There was a scream from Fake Jasmine, as his glowing fist seared
through the metal and melted it like a hot knife through butter. She
thrashed her arms out violently at Phantom and knocked him
"Such a violent boy," gasped Fake Jasmine, as she clutched at the wound in her metallic chest. "It is shameful that you could be a Fenton, like me."
"You're not a Fenton," protested Phantom sternly, as he got back up to his feet. "You're nothing." He then swore, as he noticed the two faces that appeared from the hole he had made her in her hull. "You've got to be kidding me," he sighed heavily, as he saw Gotik's face and Walker's face appear on Fake Jasmine's body, making her look like some horrific freak show.
"I have the power to deactivate the Phantom Armour, Danny," called out Fake Jasmine, as she smiled at him with three lips. "It's time for you to put your little toy away and go to sleep. Yes, it's time for you to go to sleep. You must not live to see the new world I will make."
"Oh, yeah?" he asked, as he looked up at her defiantly. He spread his arms out. "Well? What are you waiting for?"
Three orange and white Geists suddenly rose up from the floor. They aimed their cannons straight at Phantom and opened fire.
"Yeah, I thought you couldn't do it," said Phantom, as he became intangible and let each shot pass straight through him harmlessly. That was more than could be said for the shots he fired back in return; the Geists practically exploded upon contact.
The cyborg ran and avoided being shot at by Fake Jasmine. He bent
down as he ran and scooped up the nearest shrapnel-sharp piece of
metal into his hand.
"You know, I thought you looked ugly before," called out Phantom, as he ran straight at Fake Jasmine. "But now you've got three heads, you're three times as ugly." He became tangible seconds later and fired off a few shots of plasma energy at the metallic angel. "If ruling the world doesn't work out for you, I bet you could get a good job in a freak show. Heck, you can be the entire Freak Show!"
Fake Jasmine screamed out in pure rage and dived down straight at
Phantom. She lashed out with her clawed hands much quicker than he
had anticipated though, and ended up creating three huge gouge marks
along his chest.
"You rude whelp!" she called out angrily. "I'll teach you some manners!"
"Yeah, right!" retorted Phantom, before he shoved the orange shard of metal straight into Walker's face. He then reached out with his other hand, which went intangible and delved straight into Fake Jasmine's chest.
A shock of electricity suddenly jolted through him. Then electricity surged through his body. It travelled from Fake Jasmine straight into him. Phantom's body convulsed. Circuits melted. His nerves were ready to fry and the fatty myelin sheath around them could have melted straight off for all he knew. He felt as if he was going to die and the worst part of it was that he couldn't remove his hand from inside her chest.
Images of his past flashed before his eyes.
The event always seems long when you're living it, but when you look back, it always seems so short. The future stretches out in front, yet the past shrinks like a machine-washed wool sweater. So it was with Danny.
Danny remembered awakening from darkness to find himself in the rubble of a ruined building. He remembered being incapable of moving, yet was able to see the sunlight. Countless days had been spent in those ruins and the memory of each agonisingly long day came back to him; no matter which day he decided to think about, it all seemed so short in retrospect. The time he went blind. The time he went into the hospital. The countless hours he had spent being taught how to use his own limbs again.
His memories seemed so short compared to the excruciating minutes, possibly even seconds that he spent being electrocuted. Even that would seem short upon retrospect, if he survived that is. At the moment, it didn't look as if he would, though perhaps he would have all eternity in the afterlife to look upon his sad life in retrospect and regret all the decisions that he had made and those decisions that had been out of his control.
"This world shall move into the future under my guiding light!" called out Fake Jasmine in a rapturous voice. "I will build Heaven on Earth and rid this world of the suffering that only mankind can bring unto himself. You, you selfish boy, won't be able to stop me!" She laughed joyfully. "The world shall rejoice under my rule, for I will be the world and there will be no one else but me!"
"Dream on, freak show!"
A huge blast of purple energy flew through the air and took Fake Jasmine's head straight off her shoulders. It fell and clattered on to the floor, leaking oil, with that rapturous expression frozen on her face.
Seconds later, Phantom fell backwards. He looked at his hand and
smiled. The CHAOS Core was in his hands; he had ripped it straight
out of Fake Jasmine.
"Thanks, Val," he said, as he looked behind him.
"Don't thank me just yet, robot," snapped Valerie angrily, as she glared at him. "I've got one more thing to do," she said, as she aimed her bazooka straight at Phantom. She opened fire.
Phantom was thankful he had ducked when he did.
"Hey!" he protested angrily. "What do you think you're doing?" He couldn't believe she had just taken a shot at him. Did the fact that he had saved her mean anything to her, or didn't she care?
"That CHAOS Core must be destroyed, Phantom," said Valerie sternly. "And I don't care if you're destroyed along with it."
"But… but I saved you!" Phantom reminded her.
"So?" asked Valerie nonchalantly. "That don't mean a thing," she told him sternly. "Coz you know, what? I don't trust robots, 'specially not a FentonWorx lackey like you."
Danny/Phantom couldn't believe what he had just heard. He had
saved her, but she still acquainted him as an enemy of some
"Are you nuts?" he cried angrily, "Didn't you see me fighting against Fake Jasmine? I'm no FentonWorx lackey!"
"Yeah, right," sneered Valerie sarcastically. "Why should I trust you?" She re-aimed her bazooka at Phantom carefully this time round. Valerie was determined to not miss.
"I think you have more pressing matters to worry about," announced three voices from behind Phantom.
As Phantom turned round, Valerie looked behind the cyborg. Both of them saw the figure of Fake Jasmine. Their attention was focused on the robot, whom had managed to repair herself in the time they had been shouting at each other. The holes in her body were gone, as were the dents. Her head was reattached somehow, though now it had Gotik's and Walker's faces attached to the sides.
Phantom sighed exasperatedly.
"Seriously, this is getting really old!" he groaned. The hand he held the CHAOS Core in glowed with green plasma energy, as he raised it and held it out in front of him at arm's length. "Let me guess, you want this, right?" he asked, as he held it out tauntingly. "Well, tough!" he cried, just as he fired a plasma bolt from the hand he held the CHAOS Core in, shattering it into a million shards of metal.
The plasma energy struck Fake Jasmine in one wing and took it straight off, much to Phantom's surprise.
Danny had looked out of the hospital window and out onto the street below. He had seen the people that bustled through the street, busy as usual. Often, he had envied them and his desire to be amongst them had never been as great as it was then. His memories of his past, after all, had been missing. As far as he had known, he had never been amongst them and as he had sat there at the window, he had wondered what it would be like.
Television had offered him some insight. He had known there would be people there that did not smile, but just as many that did. The life, so vibrant, would have been all around him and he would have been amongst that crowd of people, a part of that cultural melting pot.
Sometimes, Danny had wondered what it would have been like to be a bird. He had often seen them flying around through the air aimlessly, almost as if they were merely enjoying the feeling of the wind through their feathers. Danny had envied them too. He had often wondered what it was like to fly and feel the utter freedom of being able to travel in any of the three dimensions. The endless possibilities had haunted his mind and he had sat there at the window, his eyes focused on their graceful movements through the air and his mind would have often dreamt of what it was like.
His eyelids had slid down almost halfway with the thought. Danny had started to dream and then…
There had been a loud bang. He had watched a robot become an Insurgent and start attacking. There had been much screaming and in the confusion and shock, the birds had scattered. One had flown straight at the window he had sat at. He had not seen it land, but he remembered seeing it fall, its wing and neck twisted in an unnatural manner.
Fake Jasmine's wing lay broken on the floor in front of Phantom. It reminded him so much of that particular day, of the injustice and horror he had seen.
"Look, Valerie, I don't care if you don't trust me or not," he called out to her, without taking his eyes off of Fake Jasmine. "All I know is that we've got to work together to take this freak show down. No one will be happy if she takes over; humans, robots, none of us will be happy. If you don't trust me, fine. I'm not asking you to trust me just like that. All I'm asking is for you to help me beat this thing."
A laugh came from Fake Jasmine.
"Foolish child, why would a human trust you?" asked Fake Jasmine curiously. "You aren't human. You aren't a robot. Humans won't trust you, because you're one of them, the terrorist robots that kill innocent people. Robots won't trust you, because you're a human too, one of those that oppress them. No one can trust you, boy. Who would be stupid enough to do so?"
"Shut up!" shouted Phantom angrily.
"You're rude, you're stupid, you're weak," continued Fake Jasmine, as she floated towards Phantom. "No one cares for you."
Another beam of energy flew through the air and it struck Fake
Jasmine; the force was so great, it shoved her backwards.
"Yeah, shut up," agreed Valerie, as she stood there with smoke rising from her bazooka. "I've had enough of you. Gotik, Walker, you, you're all the same. I trust you less than Phantom here and that's very little. If you were to rule this world, I'd rather die than live under you."
Fake Jasmine laughed and as usual, her voice sounded like a
combination of Gotik's and Walker's as well as that of
"So be it," she chuckled. She fired a blast of light energy straight at Valerie.
It struck a barrier of ghostly green energy and at its source was
a smiling cyborg, Phantom.
"I don't think so, Freak Show," he said to her with a mocking wag of a finger. He then shoved both his arms forward and what energy in front of him suddenly pulsed forwards and struck Fake Jasmine.
A split second later, Valerie fired a rocket straight at Fake Jasmine.
There was a huge explosion as the projectiles struck. A shrill scream echoed around them and there was the clattering of metal against solid ground.
The red-haired woman, clad in a black suit, walked through the corridors calmly with her hands folded behind her back.
"So, Jack, is the Metatron ready to fire again?" asked the woman curiously.
"Yes, Mrs. Corbeau," began the red-haired man, only to gain a glare of contempt from the woman's emerald green eyes. "I mean, President Corbeau," he said quickly and then weakly added, "ma'am."
With President H. R. Bean's demise, Corbeau had been the next in succession and had become the First American Woman President upon her rise to power. Though from the same party as Bean, she had been prevented from rising through the ranks due to her background of having been a G3 member. Yet now, she was in charge and she would make sure that those politicians that pandered to the Rachaelis crowd would get what was coming to them.
"Good," said President Corbeau with a cold smile on her lips. "On my orders, open fire. We'll wipe the Five Towers off the face of the map." And cover up the G3's mistakes while they were at it, but she didn't say that out loud.
"Is it… over?"
Phantom peered over the battered remains of Fake Jasmine. There
was hardly anything left.
"Yeah, I think it is," he said quietly with a slow nod of his head. He couldn't believe that it was over so quickly though. After all he had suffered through, he couldn't believe that his problems were over so quickly. "Good riddance," he said, as he dusted his hands.
"Now that that's over, I'm guessing I can take you out too," said Valerie, as she aimed her bazooka at the cyborg. "One shot is all I need."
"You don't have time for that," protested Jazz's voice, which seemed to come from the golden light that floated above the two. "You've got to get out of here. The Army's re-primed the Metatron. Get out now, before they open fire!"
"What?" exclaimed Phantom in disbelief.
"They're going to destroy this place," elaborated Jazz quickly. "Get out! Get out now!"
And high above them, above the Earth's stratosphere, the Metatron Satellite began to charge its cannon. It floated there like Death, staring down with its all-seeing eye. The glow on the cannon intensified. It became a powerful glow of concentrated energy that pulsed and beat like a living heart.
A beam of energy flew out from the Metatron and the entire satellite shuddered.
The beam of energy burst through into the atmosphere and the sky burned with red. It made the air boil, as the beam traveled further down towards the Earth. This time, the Five Towers lay right underneath it. A split second later, the beam struck the top of the tower and smashed into it. Soon all five towers were enveloped in the energy; windows shattered, steel buckled and the complex was obliterated.
"And now for our top headline," announced the news reporter, as she looked up from her notes. "FentonWorx Amitropolis Branch was completely annihilated by the US Armed Forces late last night," she said, as the picture changed to a twisted mass of metal and rubble, "after a brutal week-long nationwide Insurgency initiated by Dr. Frederick Gotik. Under the command of Gotik, the robots rebelled against the Government and managed to assassinate the President…"
"My Grandmother's coming back," said Sam, as if to drown out the sound of the television. "What with the travel restrictions lifted and all," she added. "It's been a long time."
"How is Grandma Manson?" asked Tucker politely.
There was a laugh from the black-haired Goth.
"Doing well for an eighty-year old woman," was Sam's reply. She smiled at the thought of her Grandmother, a woman who was both too resilient to change and at the same time ready to find any exciting challenge that awaited her. At times, she had found her Grandmother exasperating, embarrassing even, but that was before she had become a Goth. "I just hope that I'd end up more like her when I'm her age."
"Acting President, W-," began the news speaker and here the first name of the new President was mumbled and became incomprehensible, "Corbeau announced a National Day of Mourn…"
The picture on the television suddenly disappeared, as Sam flicked it off with a press of the TV remote. A sour expression had appeared on her face from the moment the news started. Her smile, that happiness of seeing her Grandmother again, all had been wiped away by the reminder of the sorrow that ran through their lives.
It disgusted her, to know that the Government Report on the Insurgency had been a complete white wash.
As far as the public knew, Gotik and Walker had started the Insurgency with their CHAOS. The official line was that FentonWorx had nothing to do with the Insurgency, that it had all been Gotik and Walker. The Corporation had been completely absolved from all blame. So many had died, that was for sure, yet the new Administration under President Corbeau had let the FentonWorx Executives off.
Sam felt bitter and discontent. The verdict was something she
should have expected, but it still left an unpleasant taste in her
mouth. It made matters worse that the public swallowed up the lies
without a single thought. Had this been what Danny had fought for, a
world where those who were to blame could get away with their crimes,
where the public were unthinking sheep?
"If Danny were here," she began, only to trail off. The subject of Danny still upset her. "You know… I feel, as if Danny is still alive somewhere."
For a while, there was silence. Tucker didn't respond. He didn't
know what to say. A little bit of him also believed that Danny was
still alive and out there. After all, he had a robot alter-ego, a
more powerful and resilient one. If anyone could have survived the
Five Towers' destruction, it was him.
"Yeah, I feel that way too," responded Tucker calmly.
There was no plausible reason for them to believe that Danny had survived the explosion. Five Towers' destruction had been far more devastating than the bombing campaign that had put Danny into hospital for four years. Barely little of it was left. Each one of the towers was a hollow skeleton, a shadow of its former self. Neither Gotik nor Walker had survived. Fake Jasmine's remnants had been completely unsalvageable.
Yet still, they believed. Their faith in Danny was stronger than anything else they had experienced. It made the painful sorrow that had plagued their entire lives a mere triviality. Nothing was more substantial than their faith, which was a bizarre quality for something so intangible, something that couldn't be proved. It almost bored on the delusional, resembling something like Orwellian double-think; to escape from insanity, they had to embrace a tamer form of madness, a delusional mind that refused to accept the truth of their world.
Sam had always scorned those that had a belief in something that could not be proven. The irony of her situation was not lost on her and in the end, she wondered, was it possible that the insane one was the mind that took rationality to an extreme? After all, the Insurgent robots had all claimed to be more rational than human beings, yet were they not the crazy ones? Their rationality had been taken to an extreme; they had become as insane as the Nazis of old.
"Danny, please come back."
Phantom stared upwards with his green eyes that still glowed with its almost ghostly intensity. He blinked twice and wondered where he was, as he lay there, staring up at the clear blue sky. Had he come full circle? Was he underneath the ruins of Amitropolis again, trapped, his limbs unusable and slowly decaying?
"When I first saw you in the hospital, I couldn't believe my eyes," said Jazz warmly, as she stood over Phantom translucently like a hologram. "There you were, my little brother, safe and sound. You know, we were so worried. We all thought that you'd… Well, we were afraid the worst had happened… But I'm so glad you're alright."
So it was true. What Fake Jasmine had told him was true. He was a
Fenton, the brother of Jazz Fenton and the son of Jack and Madeline
Fenton. All of FentonWorx could have been his at one time, if he
"Jazz?" asked Phantom curiously, as he lay there motionless on the floor. He saw her head nod silently in reply to his question. "How…?" he began, but couldn't get any further than that. "I want to know, Jazz. How'd… How'd I get out of there?"
The smile on Jazz's lips had slowly faded away. Whether this was
because her hologram was losing power or whether the smile was
genuinely gone, Phantom couldn't quite tell.
"It doesn't matter now, Danny," she told him calmly. "All that matters it that you're safe now. That's all that matters." She sighed. "You know, now that I know where you are, Mom'll be glad."
A frown raised Phantom's eyebrows. He tried to picture an image
of his real biological mother, Madeline Fenton, but he couldn't for
some reason. All he could remember was the oil painting that hung on
a wall in the school, a lifeless image from which she glared out with
an expression of pure sorrow.
"I… I can't remember anything about her," he admitted to Jazz.
"Don't worry, Danny," said Jazz reassuringly. "It'll all come back in time."
Danny hoped that it would. He didn't like the idea of spending
the rest of his life not knowing his real family.
"Jazz," he began and stopped there.
"What is it?" asked Jazz curiously.
"What about, Dad?" he asked, as he thought about Jack Fenton.
Jazz regarded him as if he had just asked a question in Esperanto.
The puzzled expression on her face was not reassuring to him, but it
was all she could offer him at that moment in time.
"You mean, you don't know?" she asked Danny incredulously. "I'd have thought everybody knew. It was on the news, don't you remember? It was all anybody would talk about."
Perhaps he had heard, but Phantom didn't remember listening to
the news much. It depressed him. Besides, he had a sneaking suspicion
that it might have happened when he was in the hospital and his TV
had been on the fritz all that time.
"Jazz, I'm fourteen," he told her sternly. "Do you really think I would watch or even listen to the news? Come on! I'm just a kid, for crying out loud. Besides, do you know how depressing the news can get?"
"I'm sorry, Danny," apologised Jazz sincerely. "I forgot. It was stupid of me."
"No, no, it's not your fault," apologised Phantom with a shake of his head. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have been so hard on you."
"No, I'm the one that should be sorry," she apologised. "It's just Well… It's kinda hard talking about Dad, y'know, what with him being institutionalised."
Phantom blinked twice.
"Dad's in a mental ward?" he asked Jazz curiously.
"He shouldn't be there," protested Jazz angrily. "Our Dad's not crazy. I bet Greenhithe had something to do with it. He probably had Dad locked up." She chuckled. "But, you don't have to worry about that, Danny. Mom and me are working to get Dad out of there. We'll take care of everything. You just… You just get back to your friends and live your life as you want to."
Now there was a thought that Phantom hadn't had for a long time. Yes, he had never quite thought about it, but now that the Fake Jasmine was gone, now that the Blue Bow had been destroyed and Gotik's insane plans thwarted, he could do just that. He could, as Daniel Manson or Daniel Fenton, live a normal teenager's life. Skulker was gone. The Insurgents were a distant memory and those that still existed would be disorganised, few and far between.
Danny was sure that he could handle only a few Insurgents. He'd be a part time superhero. By day he would live his life as an average teenager, something he had never thought he'd be, and whenever the occasion arose, he would become Phantom and fight against the Insurgents.
"Bye, Danny," said Jazz, as she started to fade away. "I've got to go now, but I really hope we can see each other soon. You take care now, okay?"
"Yeah," said Phantom, as he nodded his head. "Take care."
Suddenly, he whirled round and fired a plasma shot. It took the
head of a Geist clean off its metallic shoulders. He watched it fall
down to the ground and then, the smile on his lips faded.
"Damn, you guys just don't quit, do you?" he called out to the tens upon tens of Geists that seemed to stretch out into the distance. "Fake Jasmine's dead, you know? What do you think you're fighting for?"
It was no use talking to the Geists, though, Danny/Phantom knew
that. He noticed the symbol on their chests was that of the
FentonWorx Corporation, and wondered whether the Corporation had been
destroyed or not. Phantom chuckled.
"Don't worry, Jazz," he said, despite the fact that he knew she wasn't there to hear him anymore. "I won't let anything bad happen to me. You just help Mom get Dad out of the psycho ward. I'll take care of any Insurgents that pop up.
"I can handle them," stated Danny/Phantom determinedly. "You can count on me. I won't stop! I won't let them have their way. Any Insurgent that appears will regret ever messing with Phantom." He cried out and rushed headfirst into the crowd of Geists, plasma energy charged and concentrated into the palms of his hands.
Phantom shattered one more Geist into pieces with a blast of plasma energy. That was one down and forty-nine more to go, but he could handle it. Oh, he could definitely handle it.
END TRANSMISSION #11
For Endless Fight:
Phantom Hazard Ending Theme Song
I'm walking in the rain,
Walking all alone again.
You said you'd be with me
But I don't know if you care
That my heart is breaking.
Don't know if you're waiting there.
Do you care that I am aching?
I'm there and fighting for you
On the line in blood they drew.
I'm there and fighting for you,
In this endless fight for you.
My troubled, melted mind
Longs for the life left behind,
Wonders what I left there
And if you still care?
I thought we could be together
For the rest of our lives.
I thought our love was forever,
Now I'm wondering if I'll survive.
I'm there and fighting for you
On the line in blood they drew.
I'm there and fighting for you,
In this endless fight for you.
The memory of your smile still haunts my
There's not a day I wish I hadn't left you behind.
I'm there and fighting for you
On the line in blood they drew.
I'm there and fighting for you,
In this endless fight for you.
I'm there and fighting for you.
I'm there and living and dying for you.
I'm fighting for you.
I'll be there, there for you
END of DISC One
Author's Note: Corbeau means Raven, you know. You know what else
means, raven? Wuya.
P.S. Oh, by the way, I'm ending the story here. I do actually have a sequel planned, but whether I put it up on or not all depends on whether there's popular support for one. If I do plan on publishing the sequel, it will be tagged on to the end of this story in the form or Part Two, or as I'll be calling it, Disc Two.