This story does not have a set universe, and the idea for this story is a bit new at the time of writing this and hopefully by the time I post this it will still be an original idea.

(Disclaimer: Do I even need to say it.)

*line protecter*

It was a lovely spring evening. The normally shining sun gently released its grip on the sky as it lowered its self beyond the horizon to give way to night. Sitting inside this blissful scene was a modern looking house with only a few windows but was oddly built into a cliffside and if you went around the large hill to the other side you would find a large set of hanger doors built into the large mound of dirt with a runway extending from it.

Inside the apparent hanger sat a fox, of about sixteen years of age, but not just any fox, this fox was both blessed and cursed with a genetic mutation. This mutation was an extra tail, earning both the title of "Tails" from his friends and the ability to fly. But as an added bonus this fox was gifted with an intelligence rivalled by only one, -an egomaniac 'Dr.' robotnick, but he is mostly known by his humiliating nickname; Dr Eggman.

But right now our favourite fox was working on a blueprint on stereotypically blue paper for a concussive missile that would shake any robots that had particularly tough armour internal workings apart while being relatively harmless to any beings of organic nature.

But as Tails finished up his latest design, -deciding he would build it tomorrow— he briefly reflected on his life as he past the thresh-hold from his workshop to house on the way to a beckoning bed.

And he unfortunately brushed the topic of his parents in the fringes of his mind, and his feet froze along with his mind, and as one of his hands brushed a thin concealed box strapped to the side of his neck he thought of all the lies he's made to everyone because at the trauma caused by them.

But unbeknownst to the fox, a different but completely related string of events was occurring at a different location.

"Home base come in, home base do you copy, this is watch team Dingo Leader reporting in, over."

"Watch team Dingo, this is home base, we copy, report."

"Home base, we have eyes on target Victor-forty-seven-zero-thirteen at the 'House of Cards' bar on south street, orders."

"…"

"Home base, orders."

"Please confirm target."

"Confirmed, sir it's definitely her."

"Report on targets activity and figure what she's up to, and do not lose sight of target. I repeat DO NOT lose sight of her."

"Confirmed sir, we have an agent with a listening device trying to get close to her."

"Good work, report back when you get something."

"Yes, sir."

The field agent put down his communicator and changed the radio channel to the recently planted listening device.

"Sounds like a simple job for us, how much does it pay?"

"You can make your own rate when I tell you who the victim is."

"That'll make it Quite expensive, hope it's worth it to you."

"Oh its worth it, here's a recent photo of the target, it should be obvious who it is."

"This is Dingo team leader, someone get a visual one that picture, NOW!"

"Why should we kill him? such target would get us a lot of attention, a bit too much."

"But it'll be great for your reputation, you'll be the only hit team to pull such a feat."

"Deal, but I want fifty grand prior to the kill, an extra ninety-five grand after the hit."

"Done."

"really?"

"Your probably the only group that's willing to kill such an icon."

"I'll pay you through the standard payment method."

"it'll do."

"Targets are on the move, did anyone get a look at the target photo."

"I did, sir."

"Good job. Second watcher do you still have a visual."

"Yes, sir, she moving acro-, negative sir, she lost me, we do not have a visual, she's gone."

"Damn it, alright, at least we know who the next target is, Agent Jared; report."

"Sir the target was a fox; teenager, male, yellow fur, blue eyes, two tails."

"Contact HQ. IMMEDIATELY."