A/N: Once more, with feeling!
Ba'alzamon glared at Rand. "Twice in this life I have offered you the chance to serve me living. Twice you have refused, and wounded me. Now you will serve the Lord of the Grave in death. Die, Lews Therin Kinslayer. Die, Rand al'Thor. It is time for you to die! Take your soul!"
Ba'alzamon put forth his hand as Rand pushed himself up, reaching desperately for Callandor, still glittering and flashing in midair. He did not know whether he could reach it, or touch it if he did, but he was sure it was his only chance.
Ba'alzamon's blow struck as he leapt, struck inside him, a ripping and crumpling, tearing something loose, trying to pull a part of him away. Rand screamed, and his hand convulsed around Callandor's hilt.
The tearing inside Rand vanished as power coursed through him. He heard the words in his head that would unleash the sword's true might. "EX-"
There was light... and then a big hole in the Stone.
Please review, C&C welcome.
Until next time, this is Shadow, signing off.