...

Well, here we are. This chapter is more abstract and open ended than the others before it. Interpret it as you wish. I'm really not sure what to feel about it...

Writing this was really fun, and all I can say about this fic is, it's been fantastic.

-Lightning


And the circle was complete.

But when did it start?

Alex Rider was the beginning, or was he the end?

John Rider had joined MI6.

Ian Rider had followed suit and trained Alex to become the best spy on Earth.

So Alex became the best spy on Earth. His name would be whispered in tones of hushed awe for the rest of eternity. No one knew whether he was still dead or alive, even though years had passed.

Alex Rider was many things.

He wasn't quite an assassin, not quite a mercenary, not quite anything in particular. He didn't fall into any categories cleanly.

He showed mercy, outright sadism, a hero complex, and thousands of other facets of his personality that words couldn't quite capture.

He was simply Alex.

He seemed to be one of the universe's favourite punching bags, yet it seemed the world revolved around him and adored him.

He was the whirlwind of destruction that was to be never provoked under any circumstances; he was the Angel that brought only death. Shadows slinked away from his very presence, a chill wind whipped up whenever some poor fool attempted to cross him, bullets veered off course from the creature that did not seem to have ever been anything remotely human, and the universe seemed to bend to his will. He was feared and revered, his name whispered in the wind as a quiet, ominous foretelling of death wherever he went.

The scum of the world cowered under his icy piercing gaze, but even with his obvious distaste for the megalomaniacs that tried to take over the world on a daily basis, the side the claimed to be "good" hated and feared him.

(sometimes, his life really sucked.)

There were rumours of him being a god from ancient times, of him being the devil, of him being a man cursed to forever wander the earth in eternity as punishment for his crimes.

They were all obviously untrue, but that didn't stop that tiny sliver of doubt that wormed into people's minds and wondered if maybe, just maybe, that they were true.

Alex didn't do anything to dispel the rumours.

People always wondered why he snickered when they mentioned those rumours and ohgodwhywashecoveredinblooda ndlookinglikehe'djustwonthelottery.

(what? he might've been the top assassin in the world, but he was still a teenager, after all, and he need to get his kicks from somewhere.)

A boy named Julius had gotten plastic surgery to look exactly like the legendary spy, wanting to make his friends stop worshipping their idol, who they believed was still alive.

He aimed the gun at the prime minister.

A gunshot rang out and there was silence.

Julius was dead from a bullet wound coming from an angle that should have been impossible.

There wasn't any bullet found, not even an exit wound.

A man claiming to be Alex Rider would lure children away, doing unspeakable things to them.

He died of a knife to the heart, a legendary, feather-shaped knife, the one that not even masters of their trade could ever possibly hope to replicate, before he had been able to claim his third victim.

And yet another foolish person though he would be able to get away with trying to tarnish the honour of John Rider's name, citing some family feud that had never really existed.

He disappeared and only showed up days later, hung by his organs from a bus… with no evidence of who or what could have done it.

Alex Rider had created someone who could be his almost equal, Tom Harris. He was the last link of the circle. Alex never had a son, knowing that he would never be able to stop long enough to care for someone that young.

Tom Harris was many things.

He was an assassin, he was a friend to Alex Rider, the unapproachable legend that light seemed to hide from, he was the Demon.

He was the savior of children and innocents everywhere, he was the idol of every new recruit, he was the one all the evils in the world cursed with their dying breath. He was ironically loved by the general populace as a force of "good", even though Alex had saved the world so many more times without even a thank you. He was bathed in the blood of innocents, but people still loved him.

(he still really couldn't figure out why the fangirl tried to molest him even though he had made it obvious that he held no qualms over killing someone "innocent" in cold blood.)

Then there was that incident with the leopard… moving on.

But there was something he would never, ever be—left behind in Alex Rider's shadow.

If he fell behind, Alex would hatch a brilliant scheme to make his name just as well known as Alex's. They held hands together in the relay race of life, and when it was their time to pass on the baton, Tom found a young boy on the streets in London during Christmas. He wanted to prevent anyone else from having the same life as him, and Tom took him on as an apprentice.

His name was John, and he was by no means the end of the circle, but he was the one to pass on the legacy of the Riders.

And where did the circle end?

It had only just begun.

"How can I be a spy like you, Lex?"


This is the very last chapter of Loop.

Well, it's supposed to be. I really can't make any promises, but I really don't think there will be any more chapters after this.

I'll see you next time I post a fanfic, but until then, goodbye.

-Lightning

EDIT 16/3/13: I added the last line, which was how the story started off. Keep in mind that I will not continue this, and I only added the last bit so that this story ended the same way if began.