Note: This is the third story in a trilogy. Enjoy them in order!
Story 1: Knuckles Boom
Story 2: The Master Emerald's Daughter
Story 3: Allies and NME
Knuckles sat on a ledge in Angel Island's weight room, knees pulled to his chest. One hand pressed a headset into his ear. Twenty feet away, four huge iron spheres hung on monstrous chains, swaying imperceptibly to balance the island in the air. The only light came from a ring of glowing light crystals around the walls, which barely dispelled the gloom.
In the headset, Angel Island's artificial intelligence spoke quietly. He was named Ramussan, had a voice like a radio DJ, and enjoyed destroying intruders. This was the first contact he had with the island's Guardian.
"As you can see, sir," Ramussan was saying in low, reverent tones, "the invader successfully repaired three fourths of the island's systems. The top two floors are functioning flawlessly. The third floor retains some damage, but I was able to repair the chaos reactor successfully."
"What about the other two floors?" Knuckles said, his voice echoing in the huge room.
"I have been able to retain control of the repair drones the invader sent into the power center. I will direct them to repair what I can."
Knuckles grunted. A huge pressure seemed to weigh on his head and shoulders-the awareness of an implacable enemy coming to murder him and his friends. "What's the ETA on the NME ship?"
"Five days, eleven hours," Ramussan replied.
"Can we take them?"
Ramussan didn't answer immediately. "That ... depends ... on whether the Mechanic can repair the ARK cannon."
Knuckles massaged the bridge of his nose. "How bad is it?"
"Oh, well, you know. Three hundred years of neglect isn't kind to delicate electronics. He'll need parts."
Of course he would. The island was a mile in the air. It wasn't like they could run home to grab a few things. "Do you have a list?"
"Tails is slowly updating me as he explores the cannon. So far the list has fifty-seven items. Many we can repurpose from the invader's robots that I destroyed."
Knuckles sighed. "You know, I just wanted my island back. I didn't want to take it to war."
Ramussan said in a low voice, "There are those who have searched for it for many years, sir. You found it first by a very narrow margin."
Knuckles gazed at the weights without seeing them. He had only found the island because of a storm that washed a chaos emerald ashore. Through it, he had felt the pull of the Master Emerald and Maria's silent plea for help. Now he was responsible for the island, his friends' lives, and possibly the lives of everyone in the archipelago. NME would likely consider all of Bygone to be collateral damage. He clenched his fists. He would do whatever it took to stop their enemies and save his friends, no matter what it cost him.
"What should I do first? You know, to defend it?"
The AI's response was decisive. "Find Maria, sir. She is safe nowhere else."
The day Angel Island floated into the sky was the greatest day of Gladiolus Lark's life.
It began the way it always did - with her mother's voice. "Rise and shine, Glad."
Gladiolus hadn't been asleep, not really. Curled on her cot in the corner of their two-room shack, she had been dreaming of flying. Not on an airplane or a glider, not with wings, just ... flying free through the air, with the clouds billowing beneath her. Out in the sky, nobody knew she was dying.
Now she climbed out of bed, pushing back her mane of dreadlocks. While most echidnas grew long, spine-like dreadlocks, Gladiolus's hung to her knees. They were the one beautiful thing about her. She checked her left eye in the mirror as she washed.
The pupil was completely clouded now, with red lines lacing across the iris. Inflamed blood vessels covered the white of her eye. When she closed her good eye, the bad one saw wavering colors that weren't there-auroras of green and white that didn't match the light in the room. She wiped away blood-tinged tears and secured an eyepatch over the monstrosity. It was called Chaos Eye, and there was no cure.
She had a breakfast of bread and butter, then took her shovel and bucket outside to hunt scrap.
"Don't talk to strangers," her mother told her at the door. Her mother, Poppy, was a thin violet echidna with stringy dreadlocks, her eyes stretched too wide with worry. "Don't let the salvage rats see where you dig. Don't draw attention to your eye."
Gladiolus kissed Poppy's cheek. "Yes, Mother. I'll be careful."
Glad never spoke to anyone in their small town called Pilings, even though she knew most of the villagers by sight. They avoided her in return-the thin echidna girl with the ludicrously long hair and the eyepatch.
She stopped by a small shrine on her way through the trees down to the sea cliffs. She touched the little dry stone bowl beneath a weathered echidna statue. "Grant me good luck in my hunting today, Lord Fith. I'll share my takings." Gladiolus always kept her word to the god, sharing whatever food or drink she was able to buy with her scrap money. There was a much larger statue deep in the jungle that was said to convey messages from Fith himself. Someday she would find the way there and speak to it. Maybe it could cure her eye before ... Well. Maybe it wasn't wise to hope too much.
There were a great many coves and cliffs on the eastern side of Bygone Island. No fine sandy beaches, like those of the west side that attracted tourists. The east side boasted one small, rocky beach, often strewn with rusted machine parts that discouraged anyone from going barefoot. Their town was so insignificant that not even Eggman bothered with it. Gladiolus secretly wished he would, just to see what would happen.
Talk to no one, her mother had instructed over and over. Don't let them close enough to see your eye. They'll drive us away.
Gladiolus never looked at anyone, save sideways, through her long dreadlocks, hiding the eyepatch and the red tears that trickled from beneath it. Chaos eye was an abomination, the doctor had told her mother. She would be dead within a few years.
But she didn't think about that much. Today she walked south, following the coastline as it curved westward. There wasn't much scrap left on the beaches, so she had been digging in the sandstone cliffs opposite Angel Island. Enough broken metal had come to light to pay rent, with enough left over to buy food.
As she walked, she swung her bucket and hummed, gazing at the brilliant blue ocean, the wash of cirrus clouds like great sprays of feathers. Angel Island was blue and green, its forests giving way to a central mountain peak of bare stone. Often she wished she could swim to it, explore, hide from the world. Her chaos eye showed her the outline of the island in faint pink. Lately there had been shafts of gold, too.
Glad climbed to her spot among the cliffs, set down her bucket, and began digging. It was hard work, but mindless. She had time to wish, as she often did, that she could run away, leave everything behind, go out and live life. She had so little time left-maybe two years, if the disease didn't spread too quickly. But she couldn't leave her mother and aunt so easily. It took all three of them to gather enough scrap to live on.
A long strip of gleaming metal came to light, hardly rusted at all. Glad tugged it free and deposited it in her bucket. As she lifted the shovel again, the ground trembled under her boots.
She froze, gripping her shovel. Earthquake. The ground rippled underfoot, sand cascading down the cliffs around her. She cautiously stepped into the open, so if one collapsed, she wouldn't be buried.
The quake went on, growing worse and worse. A distant crashing drew her attention. Glad turned to face the sea.
Angel Island was moving.
She gasped, dropping her shovel, covering her mouth with both hands. The island was rising out of the sea, slowly, impossibly, water streaming from it in white sheets. Her chaos eye saw blinding bars of red and yellow light flashing from it like floodlights.
The earthquake intensified. Glad stumbled to her knees and sat in the rocks. What was happening? Why was the island moving and glowing like that? Fear of the unknown welled up inside her-but along with it came an unreasoning wash of joy. She threw her arms wide and laughed without understanding why. The island that she had seen every day of her life was clawing its way out of the sea's heavy embrace.
Angel Island rose higher and higher, revealing its stony underbelly like a series of inverted mountains. Glad watched, still laughing, tears blurring her vision. Or was she weeping? She didn't understand and she didn't care. It was the most wondrous, fantastical sight.
The island, free of the sea, rose into the sky, clouds forming around its central peak. Waves beat against the coast, wetting Gladiolus where she sat. She didn't care. She sat there, rocking back and forth, laughing and crying by turns. Something amazing had happened without explanation. It was a miracle from Fith himself.
The island didn't fly away, as she thought it would. It found an altitude it preferred, about a mile up, and hung there in the blue. Clouds piled around it as it created its own weather system.
Slowly Glad calmed. She climbed to her feet and retrieved her shovel. Even in the face of miracles, work must still be done. She walked two steps toward the cliffs and stopped. Someone else was crying nearby.
Had someone else witnessed this incredible sight? Her wariness of people warred with her desire to have the miracle confirmed by other eyes. Glad crept around the rocks and peeked.
A human girl in a tattered hospital gown sat on the beach, doubled over, clutching herself and crying in a deep, choking way, as if in pain. Tangled blond hair cascaded down her back.
Glad hesitated. She'd never seen a human before. Did they bite? Would she hate her for her eyepatch? She nervously wiped her muzzle, hoping it wasn't too stained.
Slowly she picked her way through the rocks to the girl. The girl took no notice of her, still doubled up as if cradling a wound.
"Excuse me," Glad said. "Are you hurt?"
Her voice was barely above a whisper. The human girl heard it and looked up. Her eyes were the color of the top of the sky at noon. Violent light flickered inside them, unnatural, chaotic. It looked alarmingly like the lights she saw through her bad eye.
"Who are you?" the girl asked.
"Gladiolus," Glad replied, before remembering that she was never supposed to tell anyone her name. "I-I heard you crying. Are you-do you need help?" She couldn't look at those terrifying eyes. She focused on the girl's dirty left hand instead.
The human girl gulped a sob and wiped her eyes on her gown. "I'm Maria. He left him to die. I had to punish him."
Glad took several steps back. Punishing someone? This Maria must be insane. She had obviously escaped from a hospital, and she must be dangerous.
Maria took her by surprise by pointing at the floating island. "Look at it! It's beautiful!"
Glad glanced at the distant blueness of Angel Island. "Yes, I saw it rise. It was wonderful." The words were too small for the amazement of the event. But talking to a stranger had made her painfully self-conscious. She wanted to cover her eyepatch with both hands.
"It was." Maria dried her face on her gown. She struggled to her feet. She had no shoes, which was unfortunate on the rocky shore. She gazed around forlornly. "Where are we?"
"The east side of Bygone Island," Glad replied.
"I need a place to rest," Maria said softly, swaying a little. "Is there a place nearby where I might stay?"
Glad imagined her mother's face to see her bringing a crazy human up the path. But she had also just witnessed an island float. Right now, anything was possible. The rules had changed, although she couldn't grasp how.
A rogue wave washed up the beach, slapping Maria's bare feet with foam. She gasped. Glad leaped forward and caught her arm before she could fall.
Light blazed through her eyepatch and into her chaos eye. This time, other sensation accompanied it.
Maria was not a human. She blazed before Glad in a pillar of light, spirals of chaos energy flickering off her. Around their feet curled water that was not water. It was the transparent feeler of an immense monster that sought Maria. And it had touched Glad, too.
Glad yanked her hand away with a gasp. The wave had already sucked away, back down the rocks into the sea. But something was foaming out there, breaking among the rocks.
"Can you run?" Glad whispered.
Maria nodded and held out a hand. "Be careful. My control is not so good when I'm tired."
Glad took her hand, and this time nothing happened. She tugged the human up the beach, along a trail to the top of the cliffs. Down below, more waves climbed the beach, completely different from the rest of the tide, which was going out.
"What is that?" Glad panted. "What's in the water?"
"An angry being," Maria gasped, clutching her chest. "He knows where I am."
Glad tugged her along, a terrible horror growing inside her. It was like swimming in the sea and spying a vast shark-shaped shadow passing beneath her. She wanted to ask more questions, but she didn't know what to ask. Instead, they fled, ducking into the trees.
They left the angry water behind them. After a while they slowed to a walk, Maria breathing heavily. Glad kept her eyes on the ground. Even now, she kept catching glimpses of light from Maria with her chaos eye. She was touching the hand of an angel. This must be Fith's answer to her request at the shrine that morning.
She stopped walking and faced Maria. "I saw what you are."
Maria pushed back her tangled hair and regarded her echidna companion. "I felt when you did."
"You're an angel of Fith," Glad said.
Maria was nonplussed. Her mouth dropped open, the blue depths of her eyes troubled. "No - I'm no angel, Gladiolus."
Glad lifted her head and studied her doubtfully. "But ... but I saw you. You're a being of light and chaos."
"That may be so," Maria replied. "Yet I am not an angel, although perhaps I have not gone unnoticed by Fith. Come. Tell me about him."
They walked on. Glad hung her head, confused and embarrassed at being so frank. "How do you not know Fith? He's the over-God of Chaos."
Maria sighed. "I'm human. I wasn't educated on the Mobian gods."
"You can't be human." Glad blinked at her. "I saw you all ... changed. And that thing in the water wants you."
They both looked out at the ocean. The waves were far out, normal for low tide. It was impossible to tell if a monster lurked beneath them.
"I am the Master Emerald's daughter," Maria said in a low voice. "Begotten of science and chaos. I must go to Angel Island, but right now I haven't the strength."
Shivers raced through Glad at these words. Maria was strange, insane, yet power burned within her that attracted Glad like a moth to a lantern. She opened her mouth to say something profound, but all that came out was, "How? Can you fly there?"
Maria smiled and didn't reply. Instead she scanned the trees of the forest, as if hunting for something. "I have a friend who will take me there. But he behaved badly."
"The one you punished?"
"Yes."
Glad was afraid to ask how a chaos angel might punish someone. Instead, she said, "My house is up by Pilings, if you want to rest there for a while."
"That sounds lovely," Maria murmured.