July 10, 1999

Black and white.

No grey.

That was what he kept telling himself, he who was about to do a deed which would result in the deaths of over eighty thousand souls. Some very bad, some very good, all unattached and unknowing. They were going to die in the most terrifying manner, with the endless sleep or the passing to Heaven painful and sudden. It was enough to make most men question themselves about it.

But the Rainbow did not. He refused to ask himself the question. Because he was afraid of the answer.

His first loyalty was to the Ribambelle, and by that to its survival. The rest meant nothing to him, or at least never should. Weakness was unacceptable to one in his position. Hesitations were even worse, criminal where he was concerned. Years of preparations had gone into this for him - the training, the studying, the communing with the Stone and the many channelings - so that he could bring his dream, the dream of all the High Ones, to fruition.

The Rebirth of Ribambelle.

Strage that it did not seem as good as he had thought, nor as gratifying and joyous as it had seemed, as when he'd first uttered the sentence in his mind. But then there were rumors which did anything but put his mind at ease.

First, it seemed that the supposed Specials really were of the kind the World Warriors were made of, and that wasn't good. They seemed to be highly suspicious, and that was even worse. But these were problems he could visualize without a shiver, without goosebumps on his arms and legs.

The reports about six acolytes being killed viciously, however, was something he shivered about. He had read the descriptions of the attacks and had soon put a name on them. Henry Gormack. Better known by those few who survived him as Retribution.

That this feral thing which hadconce been a man was here was worse, far worse, than the presence of World Warriors in Salt Shores. For they might try many things, but he was about certain they weren't as bent on killing as that guy. The fact that he was to blame for this walking, dangerous, pitiful thing did not help, either.

It had been a good idea at the time: take two normal people - a male and a female - and find out if one could be Merged permanently. They had been merciless, trying all kinds of channels, questionning, poking and proding the helpless female without consideration. She had been a tool, after all. But the strain had been too much, and her mind had snapped, followed soonafter by her body.

The man - Henry, the first subject's husband - had gone through similar experiments, even though they were somewhat more refined. He too had snapped under the strain, vowing to kill them all like the female had vowed in an hate-filled voice. They had thought that he would soon die as well, and because of this had made the mistake to slacken his surveillance somewhat. A mistake. He hadn't died. He had survived, even though he had been changed. And worse, he had escaped. And the team which had been sent to retrive him never returned.

That had been many years ago, and in those years some lesser members were found killed in terrible ways - headless, hanged, disemboweled - but those reports had dropped off. He had seemed to have vanished. Tough luck.

He shook his head, and walked from his room to the small bar installed in his luxurious suite, pouring himself some dry gin and swallowing it whole, allowing the burning sensation to melt away his fears and hesitations. It wasn't like him to be so edgy. All of his life, he had controlled himself, and wasn't about to start doing anything different, especially since it would jeopardized the entire Grand Reaping. He needed to keep his cool.

His cell phone rang. With an almost angry twist, he flipped it open. "Yes, its me. What is it?" he said a bit shortly. H wasn't in the mood for a phone call. However no one answered. All he heard was a faint breathing sound. "What is it? Listen here, I'm not in the mood for troublemakers, so if you don't get off this line, I'll simply cut you off."

Still no answer. Just the sound of breathing. He growled, thinking it was some punk who was having some fun at his expense and was about to switch the cellphone off, when a voice hissed through his ear.

"Rainbow." the voice said malevolently, giddly, insanely. A voice he knew well. His blood froze for a moment.

"You.." he breathed.

"Yes, Rainbow. I'm here to continue the Hunt, to kill all of your lackeys all the way to you."

He took a deep breath. "Look, Gormack, whatever is the reason for you going after our lesser members..."

"Oh, I think you know why I do what I do Rainbow." hissed the feral voice. "Francesca and I must destroy those who are the life of your little empire, before we can go and slit your throat."

This wasn't good. How had this...animal...gotten his personal phone number. But then Gormack had been a techinician of some sort when he had still been...normal. He might have known where and how to look. He had to deal with him now. And that meant to be calm and reasonable.

"Gormack, I know that you are angry..."

"You have no idea of the depth of my hatred for you, who took my child, my wife and made me into something which will never live at peace amongst humans." the voice growled dangerously "And don't call me Gormack or Henry or any word like that. As Francesca told me, I am changed, no longer that man. I am Retribution. That is my name and my purpose. Never forget that!"

He sighed inwardly, although still highly nervous. He had known from the beginning that diplomacy wouldn't work with this thing, but he had had to try. But if diplomacy failed, then he had to be blunt.

"If you are not here to talk, then, RETRIBUTION." he said boldly "Why are we talking?"

"I just wanted to tell you the Hunt is on tonight." the voice that wasn't quite that of a man chuckled. "I know your wishes. I know to night will decide between your survival and your downfall. A very fine evening to hunt."

Rainbow grasped the phone tighter at the implications. His anger rose along with the pressure. "Listen, you imperfect failure! If you show your face there you will die! This I can guarantee to you!" he snarled.

The voice chuckled again. "Ah, reavealing your true colors, eh? Good, good, I expected no less. And as for dying...death would be bliss, since I would be with Francesca again." his tone dropped back to an hiss. "Tonigh, then, Rainbow." And then the line was cut.

The man looked at his phone in shock for many moments, hoping it was all a nightmare and that he might wake up, knowing full well that it wasn't so, that this man - if one could call it that - really meant what he said. His problems had just gone up tenfold with the certitude that Retribution would try to mess up the most important of all of Ribambelle's nights. He couldn't allow it to foil his plans.

His life now depended on it. Without the return of the powers the Rainbows of the past possessed, he would be hard-pressed to defend himself against retribution. With them, he could and would blow him away.

Still, this night meant even more sacrifices. More people would die, in his own organization and many outside it. The death toll would be horrifying, staggering. Every single agency in the world were already looking towards Salt Shores. The risk would be enormous.

He looked through the window near the bar and saw the many people walking outside, far below. Tonight, all of them would die. It wasn't a question of right and wrong any more. It was a question which held no inkling of hesitation.

Black and White.

No grey. That was the way he had to act.

And yet...he found himself dreading this evening...and all that it might drink.

Sighing, and more frightened than he'd care to admit, Rainbow poured himself another drink and tried, to no avail, to relax.

That evening...

"This was supposed to be our honeymoon." stated Jeremy in voice that seemed both angry and sad as they waited for Brad to come to their room. "And yet here we go...fighting...again!"

Cammy couldn't help but stare at him a bit, shocked. Of the both of them, Jeremy had always been the most driven by good deeds and high morals, and this was the kind of mission that seemed to have exactly that. After all, weren't they going in to save tens of thousands of lives? To see him so depressed about such an event was unnatural, even though she couldn't say she didn't understand how he felt. She put a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"Hey, don't worry about it! We'll still have plenty of time after this mess is done with and over. Just one big fight, and then..."

"And then another will come along, just to spite us!" he cut her off angrily "I just wanted the two of us to be together, without Shadowlaw, SCD, the Psychics or the damn underground fighting stick! I wanted to be with you, in peace." he stopped, snorted "That sounded like the ramblings of a child, I know. Its just the way I feel about the whole business. Its selfish, but its there."

She shook her head, smiling. "No, that's okay, love. I feel the same way about it. But we can't really run away, can we?"

His dark mood subsided a bit at that. It was so ludicrous, after all, the sight of them running away from anything...except what hurt them. Yes, that was it. They ran away from nothing except for what hurt their heart. That was why he had never brought up the nerve to visit Melissa's grave, not even once. That was why it had taken her so long to even kiss him properly. Yes, they were cowards when it came to things of the heart. She slipped her hand in it, and he squeezed it affectionally.

"Cammy...I just don't want to see...you...hurt. Not when...you're supposed to be happy." he said softly. She answered the only way she could at that moment. She stood up, moved to him and hugged him.

"I am happy." she said softly "You're here, with me. Each night, whenever I feel frightened, and old memories stir, I feel your arms around me, and I hear your voice, caring, soothing. And then the fear leaves, and I feel safe again. I won't ever be hurt, not when I know you're there. You protecting me, I protecting you, more than partners."

"Cammy..." he said softly.

"Hush...no need to talk anymore." she said gently, and their lips met, a good long while, she pressing herself against him, he wrapping his arms around her gently. They could have done this a long time, and it might have led to something else - like many evenings before had - if a rather embarassed voice hadn't coughed. Immediately they broke the kiss, tensing turning towards the sound, only to meet a sheepish-looking Brad Morton, the man's face nearly the colour of his hair.

"I'll never get used to coming up on scenes like that." she heard him mutter "Oh, well, I guess sometimes you got to deal with things like that..."

"What you should get used is to KNOCK." Jeremy said heatedly, and Cammy could tell he was a bit embarassed, if unrepentane, of the position he had been seen in. "And how did you get in here without...wait...ahh, no WAY!!"

Brad shruggred uncomfortably. "I'm afraid so, yeah."

Cammy blinked. "You can use teleportation? But that involves a great amount of concentration and power! Just who ARE you anyway?!?"

For a moment, at this, Brad Morton smiled and looked at her, and something flickered in his eyes as he did. Cammy didn't know what she had seen, or how to explain it to herself, but for some reason it struck her that this man, who they had felt was more than he appeared to be, was in fact much, MUCH more. She almost shivered with the realization and the possibilities it might entail.

And then the goofy facade came back on a fraction of a second later, and the feeling passed, leaving behind only a rather unpleasant impression.

"Me? Bah, lets just say I'm a guy who wants the same thing that YOU guys want!" he stated with a frank grin.

Jeremy raised his eyebrow. "Which his?"

The smile vanished, to be replaced by a very serious expression. "To save the lives of the people being here." there was only the slightest tidbit of hesitation in his tone, and her husband shot her a look that she agreed with.

Saving lives wasn't his main goal. It was certainly his SECONDARY one, but it paled before another. But what? She could give no ready answer to this, and the uncomfortable feeling she had, of being only some kind of pawn, increased. But she couldn't back down. For one thing she knew, he was telling the truth about the lives at stake.

The man named Brad - she had very SERIOUS doubts about that being his real name - nodded, as if he had read much from them already. "Now we must go with all haste, cuz things have just begun to act up. They're beginning their tricks as we speak."

"The Grand Reaping?"

"What else?"

Jeremy didn't take the time to even answer that one, only walking to a bag he'd brought and taking out his black, panther-engraved fighting gloves - the trademark of three generations of Storms - and slipping them on. Cammy watched him with a smile. Whatever had spurred him into the sad bout back there had vanished, replaced by the reassuring determination to keep the innocents safe. One could say many things about her husband, but those who had been in battle with him had never called him flimsy or unreliable. The grey-eyed man came back to stand just next Brad, fixing him with a level stare.

"I'm not sure you want to save the people as much as we, " he stated calmly "But has long as THAT is the end result, I don't mind. Just don't do anything that might endanger those thousands who have nothing to do with this." If it hadn't been said that way - stating a simple fact - it certainly would have been a threat there.

Brad Morton simply spread his hands. "Oh, I wouldn't dare even think of such a thing! I want the best for everyone, believe me or not!"

She was doubtful and so was Jeremy. However, it wasn't like they had much choice: it was either trust him or go about this completely blind. And though it wouldn't be the first time that they would have to do so in a mission, time was of the essence, and Cammy found she couldn't take that kind of risk. She stepped up to him firmly after exchanging a firm look with Jeremy, her eyes sternly looking this weird man over.

"All right. We've got no choice but to believe you this time, Morton. So we'll go along even though its the last thing we really want." she paused "I suppose you know where they are?" she asked him. He beamed.

"Of course! Such a gathering of power is easy to feel for the likes of me!" he told them jovially.

"Of course." Jeremy repeated sardonically. "Are they at least a bit more imaginative than usual as for choosing the place for that bastardly act?"

The man smiled again, this time as goofily as she'd ever seen him do it. She didn't feel any better for it, for she knew now that it was nothing more than a mask which hid his real personality and more importantly, what he was.

"You're in for a treat, people!" he said "Take my hand and we'll be there in a flash."

He outstreched his hands, and after staring at them, Jeremy took one gingerly, while Cammy followed even more reluctantly. As soon as they did, his smile became more serious.

"Get ready." he said "This one is going to be a night worth remembering."

She absolutely believed that.

She just hoped that she be there tomorrow - that they'd BOTH be there - to remember it later.

Around the same time...

"It is time." said the Rainbow.

All of the High Ones stood in a circle around the Stone, their faces showing strain and fear, but also a great deal of excitement. Tonight would be the completion of a dream started fifty years ago when their forefathers lost the majority of their power and the Ribambelle crumbled to a shadow of its former self. Tonight the Grand Reaping would work, and they would rise again amongst the great of the Underground, as was their destiny.

He looked around at the faces of the people he had worked with for so long, gauging their emotions. Blue and Red were thrilled by the prospects. Yellow was cautiously hopeful, but then that was the usual and unsurprising. Black seemed grim somewhat but clearly content, while Green and Purple just smiled, showing their thoughts as plain as full daylight.

Then he saw White looking away from the stone, with an expression of sorrow and - what was that? - mild disgust.

He frowned at the man. "You do not seem to share with us the greatness of this day, my dear White." he said casually, drawing all the others' attention to the strangely acting High One. He did not expect White to back down even before the combined stares of his brethren, and wasn't disappointed.

"What is so great about it all?" he said sadly, looking around the large, luxurious ballroom of the mansion which belonged to a member of Ribambelle. "Today we will kill tens of thousands of people, and for what?"

"Why, for ourselves, as it has always been." stated Red with a wondering frown on his face.

"But must it always be so? We already have so much power by killing a thousand, must we continue and become completely damned?"

This wasn't good. This was definitely not good. The man was far worse than it seemed at first glance. He was decidedly depressed, and depression wasn't something he had the time or the patience to deal with as it was. He stared at the man hard.

"Where does your loyalty lie, White?" he asked sharply. The answer to this was more to his liking. The man's eyes widened for a second, then his back straightened. He glared daggers at his leader.

"That was uncalled for. My loyalty has always been with the Ribambelle." He stated coldly.

"One might have doubts with your present sentimentalism." Blue interjected, her eyes blazing slightly, accusing.

This seemed to have the greatest effect on Lord White,. His shoulders squared and his eyes flashed. Pride was overcoming him, replacing the strange doubts which had seemed to plague him. Rainbow hid a smile as the man, without a word, stiffly went to his position in the circle.

He'd have to watch White, Rainbow decided. The man had shown pity and compassion for the lower humans, and althought some naive fools may applaud this, it had no place in their organization. But the Grand Reaping came before anything else. Forcing the whole incident to the back of his mind, he took his his own post at the head, and prepared to call upon the very powers of Life and the Stone to restore them. He raised his hands to start the incantation.

'MASTER!!! INTRUDERS!!!' came a mental voice. As he had been fully focusing his powers on collecting, he wasn't ready for the outburst and openly winced. Seeing the other High ones look at him in confusion, he gritted his teeth and straightened.

'Intruders, you say?' he asked back, almost trambling with the drain of comunication. 'What kind of intruders?'

'Two master. A man and a woman. They have entered through means unknown, and are fighting from the basement.' the mental voice seemed a little panicky, which could never be anything good.

'Your orders are to stop them by any means necessary. There is over forty of you, and that should be enough until we are finished. Then we will fight them ourselves and they shall know fear!' he stated.

'But master! They fight like demons, unrelenting. I've never seen that speed and stamina and the powers they have. Already eight of our men are down, and we can barely pin them down as it is!'

'Enough snivelling! Do your duty or face the consequences!' he raged mentally, blocking the fool and turning to regard to others peering at him. Seeing their expression, he lifted a calming hand and smirking slightly.

"Calm, my brethren!" he said confidently. "Enemies have entered this mansion but they will be dealt with quickly."

"Oh? You certainly sound confident for a man who would never stand more than three minutes against either of these enemies." came a voice.

To their great enervation and surprise, a man appeared, hovering behind Lady Blue, who seemed caught up in a mix of fear, indignation and surprise. The man wasn't tall, clothed in black pants, sneakers and a white shirt with the words 'Love is the Cure' written on it. His blue eyes looked out from under a nicely combed mass of red hair. He did not smile, but rather looked at them neutrally, with utter ease.

"Who the hell are you!" shouted Black.

Instead of answering, the man looked towards the Stone and beamed slightly. "At last...at last I have found you, after five centuries of searching." he said softly.

The voice seemed to remind lady blue of something, as she started. "You!" she said "You're that man who kept on flirting with my female agents!"

At that time he looked down at the woman, flashing her a smile. "Not just flirting, my dear. Not just that. But I did have fun running after them all over the beach - one of the pleasures of being as old as I am is that you no longer have inhibitions many other males have. But let us leave that aside." his smile disappeared "Now today the Ribambelle falls, as something which should never have seen the light of day!"

All the High Ones tensed at the tone, and Rainbow was, for one of the few times in his life, actually afraid. When he'd heard about the skirt-chaser, he'd been described as a goofy, shameless womanizer who always seemed to set his sight on any woman wearing blue. Just an excentric, he had thought then. But the man floating just next to him didn't look like a fool. There was an aura...an unexplainable aura which seemed to vibrate out of him in invisible waves. There was power being kept in check in this one, great power.

"This Stone has been in our keeping for centuries." he defended, a little weakly to his ears. "Whatever prospect you migh thave, you cannot take it."

"Ah, but I can!" said the man with certainty in his tone. "You see five centuries ago, a band of mortals stole this artifact from the one who had been its keeper as long as he had been alive - which was a very long time by mortal standards." hs eyes faced them as a whole, evenly. "I was that keeper. And today, today I take back what was rightfully given to me by the very one who invented it."

Rainbow staggered back, and the others seemed glued to the floor, looking at this strnage man giving such a statement. But the most frightening was, the statement...the statement seemed true! But that would mean...!

"But who are you, by the Stone?!?" Lady Blue whispered.

In midair, the red-haired man bowed in a very gentlemanly manner. "I am known to those of this day and age as Brad Morton, drifter and womanizer, and I enjoy it. I am also Mr. Carvola, shadowy business man controlling more than a quarter of the great comapnies of Spain and Portugal. But most of all..."

He raised his head, and his eyes glowed a bright light, as if his eyes were stars themselves. He grinned at their thunderstruck faces.

"Most of all," he said quietly. "I am known simply as Alvarez, pupil of the First Teachers of Kel-Drashi, from those people myths now call the Ancients."

Around the same time...

Jeremy shifted, back-kicking an enemy off of him using all of his chi-enhanced strength. The man tried to block, but was only partially successful and was hit to the side of the face anyway, if less strongly than he should have. Still, it left him dazed for a good moment, his defense opened up, and he took full advantage of it. One good pressure blow to the neck nerve clusters and he was out for the count.

And still more came at him and at Cammy, who was fighting close by. By themselves they'd taken out nearly twenty - the first six not really counting, for they jumped them before they could put up much of a fight. Still, no matter how trained she and he were, and no matter how fast, they were strong themselves, and there were many of them. He knew he couldn't put up with this that long.

But he refused to visualize defeat. It wasn't in his blood to lay down to a bunch of goons anytimes soon, no way!

Two other guys came at him, one of them taller than he, very muscled and the other slimmer, more wiry. They weren't stronger than any of the others, but the taxation of his system would make it harder for him all the same. His lungs were starting to burn, and there were some flashes in fron of his vision.

The taller man swung a powerful arm at him, quicker than he'd expected. He ducked it, only to see that it was a faint. While he'd reacted to one threat, the smaller man had moved next to him and crouched, so that when he ducked, the strength of the resulting uppercut flung him fully up and backward. Instinct took over as he flipped back to his feet, his head ringing, the coppery, salty taste of blood in his mouth. He spat it out.

His ribs hurt, his head swam, his limbs were starting to shake from the constant strain, and his chi source was starting to quiver. However, he was also starting to get very, very angry. And that gave him the strength to return to the fray.

He reached deep down and poured chi into his increasingly tired arms and legs, dodged a kick and then another. The wiry man came at him again, with a leaping kick. He saw it coming, but did not budge. Instead he took all of his fear, his anger, his despair, harnessed his emotions and merged them with his chi flow - and caught the man's foot with both hands.

Then, with an animalistic roar thyat surprised even him, he swung him like a bat, directly at the muscular goon. Strong the man may be, but not enough to be able to take one hundred fourty pounds of flesh flung at him with a strength born of anger and despair. He caught the guy right in the chest, and he slammed right into the wall.

That feat distracted the one who was barely holding Cammy in check, and she took full advantae of it, slipping past his defense and knocking him out with three powerful kicks to face. As he fell, Jeremy walked to his wife, warily watching the now hesitating throng, breathing hard. She looked pretty beat herself, but her eyes were clear and alive, with no hint of despair.

"You holding up?" he gasped out between breaths. She gave him a thumbs up and a smile. Despite her cheerful nature, her arm was trembling as well. She too was nearing exhaustion. He looked at the throng. At least ten were there still, fearful but yet starting to perceive their opponents's mounting weakness. He looked back at her.

"Cammy," he sighed, "If we don't make it..."

She stopped him with a look. "We'll make it.." she hissed softly.

He nodded. He didn't really doubt it, really. After all, he'd fought against the Circle and Shadowlaw. These guys were whimps compared to soldiers of these organizations. But what he needed to say still needed to be said.

"All the same, just in case, I want to say...I really love no one like I do you." he stated, so softly that only she could hear.

Her glare softened. "I know that. I feel the same way. But right now I may not be fighting only for the two of us." her gaze became hard again as she fixed the now slowly advancing band of goons. "And I'm not letting these sorry arses destroy that possibility."

He nodded, although he truly did not understand what she could mean by that cryptic sentence. What could be there beside the two of them. He did have much time to ponder the question, however, as quite a few of their enemies were tensing to attack. He put up his defenses, vowing to take as many as he could.

However, they never got around to attacking - or to being attacked for that matter. Someone intervened beforehand.

Or rather...someTHING.

What looked like a man at first stepped behind the line of goons, wearing a blue shirt and jeans. The first difference he felt was the great power of the guy. Not as great as his or Cammy's, but truly something to be reckoned with.

And then he smiled savagely at the attackers, and he saw the fang-like rows of teeth, and the claw-like hands which reached for two unsuspecting heads. No, this wasn't a man, yet no beast. He was sharply reminded of the Brazilian fighter, Blanka. Except Blanka had never shown this much bloodlust in his eyes. The green-skinned man was, for all his savagery, sane.

This strange hybrid most definitely was not.

He crashed two heads together with great strength, obviously relishing the crunch of bone against bone. The two men weren't even hitting the floor before he was reaching for two more. But the other eight had seen the scene, albeit quickly, and in confusion turned to the new threat. This was an advantage neither could let pass. After a quick look at each other, both of them went after the confused goons, each taking a different direction. Jeremy headed for the right side.

It was three-to eight now. Not good odds...to them. The remaining Ribambelle acolytes were frightened by the new turn of events, effectively squashing their offensive flat. Jeremy downed one before he could lay a punch on him. On the other side, he caught glimpses of Cammy doing much the same, her speed even more of an advantage than his chi strength. And in the middle, grappling with three men, was that strange, savage mix of beast and man.

The man growled as he raked his claws against one of the trio's throat. Blood flowed out, and already he was pouncing on the other two. As Jeremy downed another opponent, his strength starting to give out, the man-beast caught a man's fist, flipped him down to the ground and before Jeremy could do or say anything, had brought his booted feet down on the man's head. It exploded like a ripe apple, blood and fless and brain flew everywhere. With this, the fight went out of the three remaining men standing. They fled, yelping, scared.

The beast-man looked at them go, smiled near-giddily, and then fixed the grey-eyed warrior with a burning stare.

"You hunt well." he said, his voice soft and menacing, yet vaguely respectful. A clawed hand gestured to the many uncounscious men he and Cammy had taken down. He flashed a look at a very wary Cammy. "And so do you. Francesca likes you a lot, yes, she does. You are strong, and not corrupted by them. And so you are not my enemy." his voice then became almost normal, and for a brief moment Jeremy saw behind the savage beast, and beheld a man who had been broken so badly this state was all he had left. "Youlove each other. Keep it alive."

And then the feral look returned. "The High Ones and another stand in the ballroom. You go. I have three heads to take tonight!" and with an hiss, he bounded out of the basement room, fast and animalistic.

Jeremy knew the three men would never escape him. God help them.

Cammy looked at the strange savage's direction for long moments, then stared at him, tired and a little shaken. "This night is turning more and more nightmarish by the second, Jeremy. What was that?"

Jeremy mused. "The Bane of Ribambelle, it would seem. Their downfall and our salvation." he said at last. He shook his head. "Come on, lets go and see the end of this."

They started to move out of the room to do just that. To see the end of this nightmarish night.

Whatever it may be.

Around the same time...

"PSYCHOSTORM!"

The word was uttered by Alvarez -although he kinda liked the name Brad- in a loud voice, with no hint of the slightest discomfort. At his order, waves of psychic energy laced with chi flooded the area in front of him, knocking out the goons the High Ones - psaw, even the name was pompous! - had sent against him and shsking the barrier of energy that took three of them to maintain. He looked at the writhing bodies dispasssionately - they would live, that was all that mattered. Then he fixed the high ones with his ageless gaze.

How easy it was to penetrate their minds, these fools. They had no protection for even a competent high-level psychic, let alone an Ancient. He read what was there. Fearful confusion... curses...searing indignation and anger...typical, all typical. He had seen these types of people more time than he dared to count in his long, long life. Greedy, overconfident people who didn't know what to do when faced with someone stronger than they.

That they were the descendants of the annoying but clever normals who had taken the Soraïkhal-Dabas - or the Stone of Centering, as the mortal language went these days - filled him with bleak despair for the future of the human race. Despair and irritation at how long it had taken him.

Five centuries. Five centuries of patiently gathering clues, of travelling through Europe, than the rest of the World, loooking for clues, finding dead-ends more than trails, until finally he had almost given up fifty years ago, when a psychic had helped a group of strong Specials defeat a group called the Ribambelle from doing a Grand Reaping, the steps of which had convinced him that the Stone had been used...if in a corrupted way.

And so his search for the Ribambelle had begun.

And tonight, it was the end of it.

He studied the barrier protecting the high ones. "Impressive with the type of powers you have," he noted distractedly "But I am afraid that it is useless. I can break it at any time. So please be reasonable and hand me what is mine without a fuss."

The one who lead the Ribambelle - Rainbow, no? - shook his head. "It cannot be done. You had it five centuries ago, but we have taken care of it for that amount of time." he said evenly.

"Taken care of it!" he roared, his aura flaring for a moment, pushing back against their barrier - which buckled, how pitiful. "Taken care of it, how DARE you! You CORRUPTED its use, you band of squabbling RODENTS! Taking lives to help your own with it, the stone used to help those in need, to heal fellows deemed worthy. YOU CHANGED A STONE OF HEALING INTO A STONE OF DEATH!!" he raged, and then he became cold, his spirit frosting.

"And you were going to do so again to this city. How dare you. This goes against the teachings of my master, Kendeli, Third of the First Five. And for that, you will pay."

He focused his chi and psychic and arcane energies into himself, merged them int his hands, and, quick as lightining, he rammed the power into their barrier. It shattered like a dome of glass under the strength of the attack, and within moments the most powerful beings of Ribambelle stood naked before his ageless powers.

But he did not attack with them. No. What they represented, what they were here to do struck a nerve into the very core of his otherwise blasé self. He shifted, planted his feet firmly and took up a fighting stance. Judo - a martial arts he had spent two hours honing per day for the last two centuries. He waited for them to make a move at him.

Immediately thew one with the black band charged him, calling up his powers and coming at him with a speed which rivaled the very best Normal athletes on the planet. He was a huge body moving towards him almost like a hungry bear.

Which meant that to Alvarez the man was slow, clumsy, and the he could see his attack coming in a mile off. The charged was brojen as the Ancient cut the charging man by the shirt and threw him into the nearest wall with a resounding crash, taking back his position without missing a beat. He smiled at the distraught group.

"What, don't tell me you actually thought HE would have hurt me." he mocked "That weakling. He never could and neither could you. But come. Take your swing. Meet your fate without grovelling at the very least!"

They did not move, but rather five of them - Purple, Blue, Red, Yellow and Green, it seemed - started to mutter, their powers rising. Alvarez lifted an eyebrow as he saw the energies merge, becoming a force that could actually be reckoned with. With a cry, they launched their combined shot. He accepted the flare, not moving. For a moment, he was envellopped in energy.

And then there was a crack, a strong return, and five cries of agonies as the ones who had attacked him, as their attacks was returned twofold, frying them. They fell, and then only two men stayed up. One was the leader, angry, sad and quite afraid, while other was the High White. That one actually showed only sadness and...and some kind of strange acceptance.

"Game over, sir." he said "The Ribambelle has fallen. Accept this as fate and prevent yourself from further grief."

"What the Hell are you?!?" the man gave out as an answer. He looked torn between fighting and fleeing. But before Alvarez had even opened his mouth to reply to the remark, a voice rang out.

"I'd like an answer to that myself, but lets get down to business first, shall we?"

Alvarez gave a slight smile as two people came in the ballroom. Jeremy and Cammy were tired, their strength largely depleted. Yet he had no doubt these two wouldn't go down as easily as the High Ones even then.

"Well, guys!" he said, utilizing the goofy side he'd learn to actually love. "What took you so long?"

Rainbow looked at the two new comers, then growled, his fear vanishing before his anger and despair. Alvarez, for a moment, all the efforts the man had done, all the ordeals he'd gone through for this moment. At that moment, the Ancient felt truly sorry for this man whose dream was now shattered.

Then he remembered the thousands of lives which would have been taken had he done as he wished, and the moment passed quickly enough.

"No! I cannot give away the only thing which makes us more than mere humans!" he shouted "I cannot!" and he put his hand on the Stone, drawing the energy directly.

"You fool!" the ancient shouted "If you do that, you'll kill yourself!" but the man did not listen, blindly taking energy in his despair. The two World Warriors tensed to act. But then White screamed, focussing his energy, and charged the one who had been his leader.

The impact rocked the place as energies met and overloaded, and the two fighters were flung off their feet, and it took the ancient quite a bit of concentration not to do the same. For a moment, the two men were etched in sharp contrast.

And then, they were no more. The light died. And only the Stone remained, the two who touched it vaporized.

Jeremy looked at him, dazed. "What happened?" he asked. And there was only one answer the man could give.

"Ribambelle has fallen. It has mets its fate." he whispered.

And somehow, despite it all, despite the death and the hurt and everything, it would have to be enough.