'And so I propose that we label this phenomenon – this 'Chaos Theory' as it were – as nothing more than a complete farce. Gentlemen, what Professor Althair has proposed--'

(Disturbance in the Chamber. Speaker calls committee to order and asks the West representative to resume his seat)

'--has proposed is nothing more than a last ditch effort to retain his post. The very proposition that a butterfly – on the other side of the world, no less – could cause hurricanes and global chaos, is ludicrous, and I am shocked that the Chamber would even consider writing it into the books. The 'Chaos Theory', friends, is false.'

- Professor Deamus Gray
- Archived transcript of proceedings: y3106 Chamber of Gathered Mobian Scientists

- - - - -

'It's a wonderful plan, don't you think, Snivley?'

'Yes sir,' agreed the bald headed figure engrossed in his control panel, not caring to turn around. 'A wonderful plan indeed.'

'When Project Zhora has been executed, this damn planet will be mine at last. No more freedom fighters. No more civil insurrection. No more blue hedgehog!'

Robotnik brought his fist down upon the large blueprints spread across a wide table set in the middle of the war room. He didn't bring it down in anger, however – if anything, it was a twisted sense of elation that he felt. The very prospect of being rid of Sonic the Hedgehog and all the other Freedom Fighter scum was enough to soften the icy depths of his black, shriveled heart.

His plan was a simple one, which was in itself a feat for a mind as vast as Robotnik's. Based primarily on the fundamentals of nuclear fission uncovered by Mobian scientist's years before his coup took place, it comprised the construction of several atomic warheads. Said warheads were then to be unleashed upon the Great Forest, which was home to several of the smaller Freedom Fighter groups – among them, the ramshackle village of Knothole.

And really, that was it. Granted, Robotnik was losing his creative touch, but one thing was certain – there was not a damn thing that could be done to deter him when he set his mind on something.

'Snivley?'

'Yes, sir?' he responded.

'Have the worker bots start work on the construction of these weapons immediately.' He gestured at the blueprints on the table in front of him. 'Make sure there is no delay. At all. Do I make myself clear?'

'Crystal, sir.'

'Good…' hissed Robotnik, the sweet taste of victory already in his mouth.

- - - - -

Outside, it was night. The sky was clear for the most part, and the few clouds that dotted it were white during the day. It was warm: it was a Mobian summer.

Underneath the canopy of the Great Forest, far removed from the vast tapestry above, a tiny bird flew between the trees. It was heading towards Robotropolis, though it was doubtful that the small animal knew the significance of doing so. As most small animals were during summer, it was happy. As happy as a bird could be.

Slowing down, it came to rest on the thick limb of an oak tree, overhanging a strong, flowing river. The river was clean, and made a tranquil sound that traveled through the nighttime air. In the day, animals drank from it.

On the limb of the tree, the bird took a moment to rest. It used the time to clean itself, concentrating largely on the area underneath its wings. It twittled softly, as if asking the moon for an answer.

As it took a step forwards along the branch, however, it was not the moon who responded. With a sharp Crack, the heavy limb of the oak tree gave a sudden downwards lurch, shaking the tiny bird.

The bird spread its wings, and applied a soft pressure through its legs as it took off once again in flight, into the night sky. As it soared towards Robotropolis once more, the large oak branch ripped itself from its parent and plummeted downwards; for miles, a loud splash could be heard as it impacted the water.

The bird – the straw that broke the camels back – flew on. As the swift current took hold of the cumbersome limb, the residents of the forest – those who heard – forgot about the splash, and returned to their peaceful slumber.

The universe was at equilibrium. All was well.

- - - - -

Two hours later, Sally Acorn awoke to the sound of a bird tapping frantically at her window. Wearily, she got herself out of bed and walked to the window.

With surprise, she saw that the bird had a message cylinder tied to one of its legs. Yawning, she opened the window and reached out to the birds' leg, removing the cylinder. The pigeon flew off immediately, as if there was somewhere else it had to be.

Blinking her eyes open, she examined the cylinder in her hand. Though they often carried good tidings, she had a gut feeling that this was different. Even the southernmost Freedom Fighter groups didn't write just to say hello at five in the morning.

'What a way to start the day…' she muttered to herself, stifling another yawn. Being the leader was never easy; she needed her sleep.

Sitting back on the end of her bed, she unscrewed the cylinder and removed the letter held within. It was dirty, and smelt of Robotropolis – Sally knew immediately who had sent it. And from her past experiences, she knew that Uncle Chuck had a habit of bearing bad news.

Unfolding the letter, she read it slowly to herself. As she read, her expression slowly transgressed from surprised to concerned; by the end, she looked absolutely horrified.

'Oh my goodness…' she slowly let out in a single breath. 'He can't be… he must be… oh no…'

She read the letter again. It hadn't changed.

Putting the letter aside, she walked to the bathroom to freshen up immediately. She had to relay this news to the other freedom fighters, and fast – they had to act before it was too late.

And so, less than an hour later, the rest of the weary freedom fighters had gathered in the Knothole strategy and briefing hut. None were too pleased at having been disturbed from their slumber, nor were they impressed at having been ordered to get dressed and report to the briefing room at five-thirty. Through all this though, each of them knew that the magnitude of the situation would have to be great to warrant such an intrusion; and consequently, none of them doubted Sally's actions.

As the tired murmurs of 'good morning' slowly died down, Sonic – who was himself trying not to yawn – asked the question that was on everyone's mind.

'Hey Sal,' he said, 'What's with calling us all here at this ungodly hour? The sun has barely risen out there!' he gestured towards the window.

Sally looked grim as she considered the question before answering. Standing to address the group, she sighed audibly.

'This morning…' she began. 'Well, about an hour ago, I received a message from Uncle Chuck—'

'Uncle Chuck?' interrupted Sonic, 'Is he ok?'

'Sonic!' reproached Sally. 'Do you mind?'

Sonic remained silent.

'As I was saying, Uncle Chuck sent me a letter this morning detailing Robotnik's newest plan. Normally, I'd leave such a briefing until a more… human… hour, but the details of this plan are dire. It's almost as ambitious as the Orange Project, and has the potential to be at least five times as destructive.'

Rotor let out a low whistle as he contemplated the news. 'Did Chuck provide any details?' he asked, not sure if he wanted to know the answer.

'Yes. Too many, if you ask me – it's tempting to say that I'd rather have never heard of it in the first place.

'The project goes under the handle 'Zhora'. Uncle Chuck got wind of it whilst eavesdropping on radio communications between Snivley and his teams of construction robots. He states that Snivley was eager to get the project accelerated to completion as early as possible, and that he had hence drafted every available bot onto the task – Chuck estimates from subsequent progress reports he intercepted that we have, at most, 36 hours until Zhora goes live. He theorizes that in actuality, we will have much less.

'The letter continued to describe the specifications of Project Zhora, which are – quite plainly – alarming. Quick question, is everyone here familiar with the concept of an atomic weapon?'

A few eyebrows rose at this statement. Everyone nodded in acknowledgment.

'Ok, well that makes explaining this thing easier. Robotnik's plan is, quite simply, to decimate the entire Great Forest, along with a large number of other areas across Mobius, with the aid of nuclear weapons.'

An awkward silence descended upon the room as Sally stopped talking. Sonic looked up from his thoughts.

'… And?' he asked, almost cautiously.

Sally looked surprised. 'And what? Sorry, but that's it; no bells and whistles this time. Robotnik has given up on capturing those who oppose him – it looks like he is going to make do with subjecting them to a fiery, violent death instead.'

'Hang on a second…' started Rotor, an element of disbelief in his voice; 'you seriously mean that Robotnik would risk plunging Mobius into a nuclear winter just to eliminate us? He's insane!'

'Not just us,' corrected Sally, 'everyone who hasn't been robotocized. Unfortunately, that happens to include us.'

A silence once again descended upon the room.

'Aunt Sally?' asked Tails, breaking the silence.

'Yes?'

'Do you know of a way to stop him?'

Sally's heart sank. Tails was so young and innocent, and yet he had already been through a lot. She doubted that he was able to fathom just how many people would die if Robotnik's plan came to fruition. Perhaps that was why he asked her such a question.

Everyone always turned to her for a solution; for a plan. Everyone always assumed that she knew how to make everything better – Tails in particular, but everyone had relied on her at some stage or another. And now; well, and now she did not have the answers that they so sorely needed. Robotnik's plan was just so… blunt. It left no fine details that could be exploited.

She sighed inwardly as she met Tails' expectant gaze once more. She wished that she knew what to say; she wished that she could think of a solution and make everything better.

She wished that they would all be alive after the next 36 hours – if that.

'I…' she started, still deep in thought. 'I… I am open to suggestions, I guess…'

The unwelcome silence had returned once again. By now, the sun had risen outside, and the soft tweeting of birds could be heard traveling through the crisp, morning air. It was a good day to die.

It was Rotor who broke the silence this time. Sally could feel the tension in the small room suddenly lift as he spoke.

'Well, I guess we have to break the project down into its fundamental components,' he said, an air of technical knowledge about him. 'We can assume that it's too late to stop the missiles being constructed. What about launch mechanisms? Control panels?'

'Power sources?'

The voice caught Sally off guard; it was Sonic's.

'What was that, Sonic?' asked Rotor.

'Power stations. I dunno, you're the guy who's good at this kind of thing. Just came to my mind, that's all…'

'No, no; the thought has merit. Sally, did Uncle Chuck send any schematics or other technical details about the workings of the project?'

Sally nodded, and handed Rotor a folded sheet of paper that had come with the letter. She didn't understand much of it, but hoped that he would. As Sonic had mentioned, he was the guy who was good at this kind of thing.

'Now, let's see here…' he muttered to himself, scanning the page before him. 'Hmm, this is some serious hardware he's manufacturing. He doesn't leave anything to chance, does he?'

The question was rhetorical. The silence intruded further as Rotor continued to read.

'Ah ha!' he said triumphantly at last, 'Dual induced electro-flux switches are installed in the launch silos to enable capacity for a remote launch!'

The silence continued; Rotor had spoken as if he knew everyone would understand the inner workings of his mind. Looking up from the page in front of him, he noticed the blank stares of the others.

'Oh,' he started to explain, 'That's a good thing for us. It means a power source is needed to launch the missiles remotely.'

It started to make sense.

'But what about backup generators?' asked Sally. 'Surely Robotnik would have allowed for device failure?'

'It's a possibility, I guess,' contemplated Rotor, 'but a highly doubtful one. In all our missions to Robotropolis, I have yet to see a backup generator of any sort. Robotnik seems to rely solely on the main power distribution lines. Judging by the speed at which this project is being assembled, I think his main priority is just to get the missiles off the ground – to make redundant electrical systems would seem to him like a waste of time and resources.'

Good old Rotor, thought Sally. He had just saved her from having to break the ice with a plan. If he was right, he may have just saved all their lives, too.

'We will need explosives,' said Sally matter-of-factly. 'Powerful ones. Those power stations aren't exactly fragile.'

Rotor nodded in agreement. 'We have a few ready, left over from previous missions, but I doubt they will be enough. Tails and I will get to work quick-smart on mixing up some more; all going well, we should be ready to go by tonight.'

Tails' face lit up. He loved working on technical things with Rotor.

'Thanks Rotor,' said Sally, almost with relief. 'We will need a map of the Robotropolis power distribution grid, too. I'll start searching for one, but it might take a whil—'

'What about Uncle Chuck?' interrupted Sonic. 'He would have all the intel we could ever need about the Robotropolis power systems, and it would all be up to date too. We could just ask him.'

'Great idea Sonic,' complimented Sally as all the pieces of the puzzle started to come together. 'I'll keep an eye open for any news from Uncle Chuck in the meantime. Tails, Rotor – and anyone else who wants to help – you two should get working on those explosives as soon as possible. Time isn't on our side. Sonic and Bunnie – you two stay here with me; we need to go over contingency plans and whatnot.'

'And moi, preencess?'

It was Antoine. He had been silent for the entire briefing, which wasn't unusual – he was always the most passive of the group.

'You, uhhh… you can…'

'He can help me and Rotor with the explosives!' said Tails brightly. Sally noticed Rotors hand slap his own forehead as Tails said it; sometimes he was too nice for his own good.

- - - - -

Miles away, as the meeting in Knothole progressed and ended, however, the large oak limb that had fallen into the water hours before continued to drift downstream. The clear water lapped at it, soaking the thick bark and turning it a darker shade. The morning sun bore down upon it, slowly evaporating water off the sections that strayed above water for too long.

On the riverbank – which was no longer enveloped in forest – abandoned husks of houses stood dormant in mock salute to an age past. They had been left years beforehand, shortly after the coup; their residents had since been turned into soulless machines.

Some were black and broken, destined never to recover from the fire that had once engulfed them. Others, in contrast, were intact and preserved. Though their residents had left long ago, the memories of their presence would linger into the future.

It was a madman's work that did this. There were countless forgotten villages just like this one, each as devastated and abandoned, overgrown with weeds and foul nightmares. Perhaps one day things would be normal again; perhaps one day, these very houses would be rebuilt and inhabited once more.

As the large, wooden branch continued to drift, caught in the strong current of the clear river, the abandoned village passed out of view and gave way to vast farmland. So many dreams and professions had been shattered by a single man, with no one but a multitude of farmers and peasants being able to defend them. Such reflection was seldom commonplace these days, though; indeed, if you were able to reflect at all, that was something to be thankful for.

At the mercy of the powers of nature, the branch continued to drift. Above, the morning sun filled the sky.

- - - - -

By the time Tails and Rotor – without much help from Antoine – had mixed a sufficient amount of explosives, night had fallen. Sally, Sonic and Bunnie had spent the day refining their strategic methods for the night ahead, with no further word from Uncle Chuck. As the clear, starry tapestry enveloped Mobius once more, the Knothole Freedom Fighters set out towards Robotropolis.

The trek through the Great Forest seemed to take a lot longer than usual. Sally assumed that this was because no one talked – no one knew what to say. The prospect of destruction on such a massive scale was… scary. The only sounds that accompanied them on their way were the soft calls of owls, and the rustle of the breeze in the canopy above.

On the outskirts of Robotropolis, it didn't take too long for the group to find Uncle Chuck's hut. Cautiously, they approached it, weary of any traps that could have been lying in wait for them. Sonic opened the door slowly, peering inside.

'Come in, Sonic!' a cheery voice greeted him. 'The rest of you, too.'

The inside of the hut was fairly ramshackle and dark. Electricity had long since been severed to the residence, and the walls and furniture had been allowed to rot and fall apart after it had been abandoned. Nevertheless, to Sonic, the place had a very homely feel to it. It was almost as comforting as being back in Knothole again; though perhaps this was because of Uncle Chuck's reassuring presence.

'I'm terribly sorry about the early wake up call Sally,' said Chuck as he gestured for the group to have a seat around a dusty, broken table. 'But I think you would agree with my reasons for not delaying the news.'

'Yes, thank you,' replied Sally. 'Do any of the other Freedom Fighter groups know about Project Zhora?'

Chuck shook his head as he took a seat. 'Unless they have their own methods for intercepting Snivley's communications, I doubt that they would.

'So…' he continued, 'have you any insight as to how you are going to overthrow this thing? The sheer brutality and bluntness of the project doesn't leave many weak points to exploit, if indeed there are any…'

'Those were my first thoughts, too,' replied Sally, recalling the meeting she had called that morning. 'It was Rotor here that came up with the plan we have now. With due influence from Sonic.' She added as an afterthought.

'And that plan is?' queried Chuck.

Rotor began an explanation of the plan they had formulated that morning, interjected every now and then by Sally when she thought he had missed something. Uncle Chuck listened in silence, nodding with approval when Rotor concluded.

'I see you've put a lot of thought into this,' he said. 'Do you know how you are going to go about severing power to the missile silos?'

'Well,' said Sally, 'that's why we came here. Sonic mentioned that you would have a good idea of how the power distribution system works, and that you could direct us to an appropriate target. Can you?'

'Hmm,' thought Chuck, rubbing his metal chin. 'Yes, I think I can. If I can recall what grid they are on… hmmm…'

He drifted off into thought for another minute before lifting his head and addressing Sally. 'I think I know exactly what you need to do.'

'You see, there are a multitude of power stations scattered in and around Robotropolis, as you well know. Many of these plug directly into factories, where the power is consumed immediately. The rest of these however, all pass through a central distribution center. It acts as a hub for all the 'miscellaneous' things Robotnik builds and maintains. As a result, it is guarded.

'If you were able to destroy – and I mean completely destroy – the distribution center, you would black out Robotropolis in its entirety. This should include the launch silos for Project Zhora. Hopefully...'

Chuck then explained the location of the center, along with how much explosive power would probably be needed to level it. He gave the group as much information as he could pertaining to the security features of it, including how many SWATbot guards were usually present. To their relief, they found that it wasn't too many – though still a substantial amount.

Towards the end of their conversation, Sally asked a question that had been playing on her mind since the meeting that morning; 'But what if this… distribution center… isn't the right target? How can we be absolutely certain that this will disable it?'

Uncle Chuck thought for a moment before he answered, considering the possible alternatives. 'Well, as far as I know,' he replied, 'the distribution center is the only target. Robotnik runs all his newly built power stations through it, unless they are needed to supply power directly to something else.'

'His new ones?' asked Sally, 'what about the old ones? Are they still active?'

'Well, Mobotropolis used to be powered by environmentally friendly means, such as solar and hydroelectric power. After the coup, however, these solutions were abandoned by Robotnik in favor of more… pollutive… methods. All the current power stations were built by his workers.'

This made Sally feel a bit better, and tied up the loose ends of doubt that had filled her mind. They might actually be able to pull this off. For the sake of Mobius, she prayed that they would.

Suddenly, a harsh crackle broke the silence of the room. 'That's the radio,' explained Chuck. 'Listen carefully…'

He reached over to a rectangular, silver box and toggled one of the knobs on its front. Carefully, the group listened.

'Command, priority one launch.'

'Go ahead.' The voice was Snivley's.

'Acknowledged. Prelim checks complete. All data input as requested. Loading fuel.'

'Received. Time to launch?'

'Twenty minutes.'

'Excellent. Maintain priority one. Over.'

'Out.'

The static crackle of electronic voices ceased, giving way once more to silence. 'Was that..?' started Sally.

'Yes, it was…' said Uncle Chuck quietly. 'This is most unexpected… I mean to say… well, that is—I expected you to have at least another four hours…'

'Twenty minutes…' repeated Sally, almost inaudibly. 'We've gotta move…'

'Yes,' said Chuck with certainty. 'Immediately. Remember everything I told you. And nephew—' he turned to Sonic '—don't take any stupid risks. Be safe. All of you.'

As they left the dark hut, the mood about the group was solemn. They had twenty minutes to take out the distribution center;

They had twenty minutes to save Mobius.