Part 18: The Final Battle

(Note: This update is in this style it is because, on its own, little happens. A recap is provided next update, so if you don't feel like trying to parse it just look at the images and read on)




The Omen acts a gauntlet, scarcely more
When taken up at level one a chore
And soon for want of gripping slants are slipped
Admonishments, my prose is ill-equipped.

It begs an ingenuity, and hence
An essay (in a more archaic sense)
Shall light a blackened omen in the rage
Of I, a luminary for the age.
From in the doleful shadow of her pride
We'll auger over omens and, in stride
Ply bardic stress (to stave them off) and tame
An icy nation, legacy of flame
Be wise to, while the oeuvre's slightly strained,
A couple of heroic feats explained:




(Now, invent'ry and meter I arrange.
Parmenides is wise; we never change.)




Be still, ye realm of robots laid to rust
The wasteland offers nothing, only dust
The present languid past, however, calls
Where we began is when the Omen falls.







Extortion offers providence untold
As photons cloaked in shadow guard its hold
But quickly drop as laser shots are crossed
(Effective in abatement, not in cost)




A Crisis of misquoted quirks create
Disaster, untold numbered ills inflate.
Prometheus, to kindle our assault
Can harness said arm's final-digit fault
And from a jaunt to Ayla's primal scene
His health bar reads an even three-nineteen
To rid us of reliance on our blades
The hostess dons Miami's tinted shades
As Robo by refraction whets his glance
We're ready: the penultimate advance.




We are immortal! We shall live forever with Lavos, who devours this planet even as he sleeps. Within 999 years he'll become the ruler of this world. The Black Omen is a path which leads to Lavos. It is a shrine which provides us with limitless power. As long as the mighty one reigns, your dreams are hopeless! You should sacrifice yourself to the mighty Lavos! HAAhahahaha!




A million alterations to defeat
A solecism, as the Queen's retreat
imparts on we a view of mutant foe
whose hourglass figure's pained (impressive, though).




A Spincut, and a beastly mutant thrown
Prevents confusion (star-crossed) from the Zone
Such spectacles of damage make it terse
We terminate the mutant (and this verse)




A synchrite holds an erng-ing; charm a pair
And magic's slashed, we'd naught a lot to spare
A combat pillar's now a casting spree.
(But sanguine Crono stays the bourgeoisie)




Keep tabs on maskéd panels as they rouse
And scorn the (charming) bygone would-be vows
Entreat for starréd data, bright esprit
Endowed with blinding top celerity.




A hope of besting action's still a flight
Of fancy when the brazen fearless might
secure(s) a mausoleum; time we bide
and make a charming fastener provide.




Then dreamy respite 'fore we soon proceed
To yield to monopsonistic need.
Bestir? No, our desire's triumph, hold
And first transact our greatest power: Gold.




The self-regard for power, often strained
Is through an unrelievéd guard retained
Alas, our charge is wrought with great expense
The counter to a charm's a great offense
As Lazarus and level one direct
We love and then on being whacked deflect
A golden shoulder with the other cheek
And die, and flee, and near the strength we seek
We softly mark the eras ticking past
Amass a form in heaven unsurpassed
And as with acid, bosses, cats, endure
The power... of a sunken cost's allure




The carte du jour's de facto grounds to stage
A proof to foes of strength (or disengage)
Avoid, though, goons -- a policy for life
The chance of triumph's scarcely worth the strife.




The grindstone cries anew; our task is dull
A knot of serpents holds for us to cull
A thousand grand elixirs, now recurs
Another weary venture, pain that spurs
Renewéd calls to action and, at last
A recompense: the pain is in the past
We've providential Life to best our game.
A lack of this, for now at least. A shame.




The grander mutant now attacks and guards
Our magic calls; attacks he disregards
Ye played-out Neolithic's done; in lieu
A Robot has a reason. Bolts from blue.
As Crono dies and Lucca's loves enhance
The barricade secures a shocking stance




(We also pray, a party quickly dies
From toxins or the mints of scottish spies.)




Ophidians in trances, pay no heed
To focus on the future now, agreed?




But aye, of course, a rub to fragile aim
Is when the tabs on panels cached we claim
Another Shock, we win (over) the lot
And follow up with punches time(s) forgot.

In futures, let it, unaddressed, be known
A member's oft reserved for 'lixers thrown
And yes, this makes us double back in spades
Delusions of enjoyment? All charades.




Another thousand girds to test our worth
The prior one as Gaia; she as Earth
Though Robo with a set of red and gold
Can look upon its savagery and hold.
Now so composed, we steel ourselves to wait
And cure the ills distracting of its fate.
The others die, almighty canon spurned
Her Opus? Exaltation well unearned.




Alas, a scourge of altered sprites evolved!
(The question whence it came is unresolved)
And now reborn dilemma's near at hand
As Lavos bonds and soon destroys the land.



The answer, though? What Robo's fist exudes
A navy guard and echoing concludes.




The panel grants our dance a two-one-twelve
As Crono grabs a (just a moment) helve.
Till stars align, adieu to tepid play
The panel-timate (sorry) guard gives way.




















At last tis time. A year (and many more)
Have led us up from sleep and through her door.
Now Crono's quick and steadfast spectral sword
And Robo with his earthly arms restored
And Ayla's fists her leveled power scorns
And jew'lry (still the dreamy gold adorns)
The lambent leading helmets (and the like)
And armor for a corresponding strike
Shall in their lack of cadence taunt and shake
The queen's… fanaticism in their wake
Statistics in our starry eyes assent
But first, may we record the way she went?

A husband gone, a poor son half-disowned
And she mere nigh-divinity bemoaned
So made she grabs of power from the seas
And brought a glacial kingdom from its knees.

Forsooth, her son, soothsayer, blocked our way
Said entry stopped, 'twas Schala's turn to say
Go rescue men, oppose rebuilt machines
Which light her life and grant her endless means.

The lifestream's guru warned 'twould fall apart
He faced the queen and found his stately heart
Was, bleeding, from his dreamlike town estranged
(While Balla', as he died, remained unchanged)

We fought in vain to satisfy her prayer;
They all were shot to distant shores. 'Twas there
The ghastly Gasps was in his time engrossed
And Janus mourned the soul he treasured most:

His sister's fate was spoiled thus: she dyed
Her hair and with a daughter-clone allied
To keep herself, now Lavos-led, contained
(Her crossing's plot was scarcely well explained)

She saved us, and I know she'd hope we'd fought
(Or did she say forgive? I've since forgot)
The queen, and for her memory we stand
Today, to years, to end what's by her hand
A monument to all we've awed and feared.

…


(The clones are pure non-sequitors; it's weird.)







All the dreams that might have been. All the happiness, and sorrow, you might have experienced. Gone forever!!! For you there will be no tomorrow! The Dark Omen [sic] transcends time and space, waiting for Lavos to awaken! Destiny has led you here. And here you shall rest forever, unless you can defeat me, and smash the Omen! Come, dear friends. Perhaps I can persuade Lavos to share his dreams with you! Did I say dreams? I meant his eternal nightmare!

Declare a string of bosses; now a brawl
As Grecian women, names I don't recall
Unhappy ruler, twice, and Jove's rebuke
Pernicious ill dominion's sordid fluke!




Halation and our health is at a loss
Without a makers' meet, the righteous boss
Of NoA said "Stay" to this attack
Assuming it was Woolsey nonsense? Whack.

The power-trip in truth's an empty threat
No target-all attacks and we regret
Our lead-up maybe slightly overdone
Revive and cure, confuse, cast beasts; you won.




Exhibit A of scaling through defeat
It serves us well to as a duplet treat
The Matryoshka Mammon (add a rhyme)
Soon triggers Crono lost for much of time.












In Modifying, mark its time for cures
(Don't temper Mammon's temper; temper yours.)
When only Ayla stands for its release
Revive and warring actions never cease
Till flaring up in anger leaves us burned
In twain, revive in haste or we're adjourned.




But still it's far too clear; it's far from done
A classic Squared-off ending's just begun.




You cretins... I plan to live with Lavos, and control the universe forever. You will not get in my way! Indulge in such regrets in the next life!




Decry, neglect transitions, all is gold
When faced with heinous power here foretold.

Her flying handed mysteries, you asked?
A way to get a middle finger past.
And thus describes the face-off. With her face.
(Reminds me of some other deaths in space)








Controllers? Best distracting, woeful lies
Through solar rays and under added guise
She aims to rest a victor, laying crowned
(To counter thus: elixirs every round)
Disdain the weary maelstroms, soldier straight
To browbeat heads of agitated state
Revive and don't neglect unmovéd heeds.
Prepare for what occurs, and here succeeds:








Oh almighty Lavos, lend me your power!




Mwa, ha, ha... At last, Lavos awakens! Compared with him, you are like germs. But, I...I shall obtain immortality!
















Though ravished, undefeated, power proved
She lasers what was land; I guess we moved.
Now kicks to us the bucket's timeless pall
To fight more bosses prior, now recall:

A Dragon Tank -- Press A (Or X (Or A))
The Guardian -- Rend bits, 'twill soon give way.
A Heckran -- Rather standard, shock/surprise
A Zombor -- Refought refight. Punch. It dies.

The great leonine titan of our brand
Is foiled by its essence (or a hand)

Begin a fight with Janus and despair
(Apologies, defend with Luminaire)

The tyrant queen of Reptites and her pet
When armored red are by defeat beset

To then conclude the shell's bathetic breeze
A fitting end of fighting expertise:

The first one's standing shall I yet imply?
The lover's level leaves her soon to die
The famous fixer fights around 15
(And Frog's the same, a match you'd never glean)
Automaton's a greater level more
The noble savage ravages plus four
And in a time before the planet's rent
When time and will and patience all are spent
The wacky ways that fragile frames demand…




Direct, at last, a fate we understand.