Minutes to Midnight

Chapter 2: The End

A/N: So, Emile the Watcher has taken sick with the influenza. Without his and K.S. Reynard's hard work to put together the holiday contest, this story wouldn't be here. So pray for him, send him flowers, candy, get well cards, anything to cheer him up.

Coming to an intersection, Katt slowed to a stop and looked up to watch the street-light, realizing she was now in the central plaza of Corneria City.

It was the largest intersection on the planet, with famous shops, offices, and restaurants circling a wide open thoroughfare in the middle. Large LED screens hung on the sides of the tallest buildings while holographic displays adorning their tops advertised company logos, the latest products, and upcoming events, the most important of which; the New Year's Celebration, which would start at 23:00, CST. Food and gift stands were being set up around the block, as well as decorations such as streamers hung from streetlamp to streetlamp, but the centerpiece of the display was a large, generic, black-and-white clock that lazily ticked away the seconds until midnight. Displayed on the largest and highest screen in the plaza, it was within easy sight of any passerby's glance.

As a red glow lit the intersection, Katt followed the rest of the crowd crossing the street into the main plaza, becoming a little river pouring into a larger lake of pedestrians. While crossing, Katt's boot brushed against a small patch of snow, no longer white and pure, but dirtied and saturated with the grime of the city. Looking up in the hope of another snow-shower to replace the few polluted signs of the last one, Katt watched the sky. The sun was sinking behind the cracks between the buildings, its last few ruby rays lighting up the plaza as the streetlamps turned on. To the east, the stars could barely be seen as they glimmered into existence, dazzling the inky blackness like flakes of snow.

One of the stars appeared much brighter than the others, catching Katt's alert eyes. She squinted at it, realizing it was steadily growing brighter. It suddenly sent a flash of light through the sky surrounding it, until it had increased to several times its normal size. Katt gasped and her mouth dropped open; a star had just exploded before here eyes.

She tapped a stranger's shoulder and pointed upward. "Excuse me, sir, I don't know how to say this... but... there's something wrong with the... sky..."

Looking at the sky, the racoon's jaw also dropped. "What in the name of... what is going on?"

"I don't know, I just happened to look up and notice that star. I've never seen anything like it before!"

Around them, more and more of the pedestrians stopped to observe the spectacle. A cry went up, as fingers pointed to another star that seemed to explode. Eventually, three stars in all had silently spread a blinding glow across the sky. The noise level in the plaza increased as people excitedly whispered about the event with worried voices. Deciding that her warm apartment could wait, Katt climbed a set of stone stairs that led up to a monument dedicated to the Lylat Wars and sat down, surrounded by other civilians, also watching the sky for any more activity.

The raccoon she had talked with found her in the crowd and sat down next to her, saying, "I think I know what it is."

Katt raised her eyebrow, still focused on the sky. "What?"

"Supernovas. That's what they are... supernovas."

"But how did they happen out of the blue? And at the same time?"

The raccoon looked down, taking off his glasses to rub them. "That... I don't know. It can't be natural. But the power needed to cause three stars to go supernova, and the planning, and the timing, would take a genius."

"Andross is dead," Katt answered, coldly, knowing who the raccoon was referring to.

"But there are other geniuses in the System besides that monkey, ma'am. Still, none as smart as he was, and none smart enough to pull off a stunt like that."

Eventually, their waiting paid off. A news feed suddenly replaced a screen to the left of the New Year's Clock, displaying a worried news collie who looked like she had hastily applied her make-up after being briefed of the situation.

"Breaking news," she started, hurriedly organizing her papers, "many civilians have reported three stars in the twilight sky visible from the Cornerian City latitude... explode. The CASA has just released a report confirming that the stars indeed went supernova, even though there were no previous astronomical indications they would do so. CASA believes the occurrences were not natural, yes, they were not natural. Experts have yet to figure out a reason for their seemingly random..."

The broadcast was joined by another news station on a smaller screen to the right of the New Year's clock, and then more and more as all of the news channels began reporting on the anomaly. The plaza was getting unbearably loud for Katt when suddenly every screen at the same time erupted in static and turned bleach white. Each screen acted in sync as a black hand materialized, which Katt immediately recognized as the Oikonny's family emblem, the opposable thumb, a symbol of their superiority over the rest of the animal kingdom. Dash Bowman's face soon replaced the hand. He was breathing heavily, with sweat beading his brow. He seemed extremely nervous, as if his speech would drop a bomb on the ears of the world's population.

"Citizens of Lylat, I appear to you now as I make the last stand of the Androssian legacy. The events you have just witnessed are not of a natural occurrence. They are a result of years of experimentation Andross accomplished during his lifetime, experiments my own scientists have carried on and seen to fruition." He paused a moment to wipe his brow, and wet his lips with a glass of water. Inhaling, he continued, "The end of the Animalia kingdom... is near at hand. Years of war, years of hunger, and years of suffering have marred Lylat's history since the beginning of time. Is this what we want? Is this what we have lived for? I am not speaking to you now to propose some wild bill to the senate, to promote a new political candidate, or to ramble on for hours on the sad condition of the world. I will not mince words. I am talking about now. The world's problems will be solved tonight, at midnight exactly..." here he trailed off, panting, as the citizens in the square held on to every word, "when I... destroy... the System."

The masses crowding the plaza gasped and began hurriedly talking. As if he could guess their thoughts, Bowman continued. "I have made no empty threat. As you have seen, the power to do so is completely in my grasp. At midnight, I will cause Lylat's own star to explode in a supernova, ensuring all life in the system is annihilated. Nothing can stop me now. Do not try. The time is currently 20:47, I suggest you make the last moments of your life count, for these precious few minutes are the most valuable minutes you will ever have. Good... bye..." He trailed off, wiping his brow and mumbling a few last words. "Now I am become death... the destroyer of worlds..."

The screen now returned to the New Year's clock, which took on a whole new, ominous, meaning. Chills ran down Katt's spine as she watched the clock slowly tick down. The hour hand was moving sluggishly, the minute hand at a steady pace, but the second hand was moving rapidly, way too rapidly. The one-time symbol of celebration had become a symbol of impending doom.

Katt let her head fall into her hands, despair sinking in. She refused to believe it. It was completely impossible. Succumbing to pressure and fear, she curled up on the steps of the monument as the chaos of the square and the heavy knowledge of the end overwhelmed her. "What now?" she asked to the cold night air.

Her raccoon companion quickly scooted over to her side, trying to comfort her. "I don't know, dear." As Katt hid her face in her hands, he continued to stare out into the plaza, thinking. "Its a tough question, but a classic one. If you only had moments to live... what would you do?"

Slippy entered the large automatic doors of the Advanced Weapons Guild, cautiously looking around. The familiar work-place was laid out before him as always; in the middle was an open atrium that stretched up ten floors, each one with a balcony that circled around the court. To Slippy's left was an information desk where several receptionists worked, constantly greeting guests and helping out clients. To his right was a lounge room meant for workers to spend their lunch time at, complete with cafeterias, tables, and couches. Squinting his eyes, Slippy noticed two of his friends sitting at a coffee table and talking earnestly to one another. Catching sight of him, they waved for Slippy to join them.

Maneuvering around the crowd of arriving workers, Slippy made his way over to his friends' table. Ralph, an English Mastiff, stood up to greet him. "Well, well, Slip. Nice to see you again. Truthfully, I'd welcome anyone's company on a night like this."

Ike, a lime-green colored iguana, heartily agreed. "Sure thing. Imagine that, calling us out to work on New Year's Eve! The war on holidays is true, mark my words. Next year we won't even have Christmas off."

Slippy set down his duffel bag beneath the table, relieved to get rid of it. "Any idea why we were called back?"

Ike nodded. "The Cornerian Defense Force just offered the weapons deal to Space Dynamics! They said we were taking too long! Imagine that. We work for them for twelve years, and just like that, they switch suppliers! And now we have to work over time so we can get the job done before Dynamics does."

Ralph elbowed Slippy. "Hey, you used to work for Space Dynamics, right?"

"More than that," Slippy said. "The founder, Beltino Toad, is my dad."

Ralph's jaw dropped. "Slip! You've been holding out on us! First you didn't tell us you were part of Star Fox, and now you didn't tell us Beltino Toad is your dad!"

Ike, the intelligent one, face-palmed himself. "Wow. Didn't see that one coming. Beltino Toad. Slippy Toad. How did we not get that?"

Ralph gestured around at the hundreds of workers passing them by. "Well, how many of these guys have the same generic last name? John Dog, John Bird, John Toad, it's a pretty common thing."

Ike squinted his eyes at Slippy, a look that always unnerved him. "But why are you working here at your dad's rival company instead of with him? Did you have a falling out with the old man?"

"You... you could say that." Slippy looked nervously around at the busy work-place. "It actually wasn't that bad. When Star Fox reformed several years ago, I left my dad's company for them. He got over it, after awhile. But when Star Fox fell apart, I just couldn't go back begging him for a job again. Of course he would have given it to me in a second, but I just couldn't face him. He understood, and said I might as well make my own way up to the top. You know, not standing in his shadow for the rest of my life, or living off of his success."

"And that is why you came to the AWG," Ralph finished as he passed Slippy a steaming hot cup of coffee, which he gladly accepted to help him get through the night.

Ike lifted an eyebrow, still curious. "But what brought you to the AWG? Besides the fact that it is the second largest tech company in the System."

Slippy gulped. "Well, that part's a little more personal."

Ralph chuckled. "Yeah, like telling us how you left your dad wasn't personal enough."

Slippy glared at him, but his face quickly gave way to a smile. "Anyway, I was attracted to the AWG mainly because of its connections to Andross."

"That's right," Ike said, "Andross used to be the most valuable asset to the AWG. He left behind a lot of his work which helped the company grow..."

"...And he nearly ruined it in the last few years of his life," Ralph added.

"And then there is the business of the findings in Andross's old laboratories and lairs on Venom," Ike went on. "Recently, a lot of his newer inventions were discovered. The CDF gave them to the Guild so we could make sense of them, and perhaps develop them. Picking-up where Andross left off, kinda."

"I-I know," Slippy stuttered, checking with his foot that the duffel bag was still underneath the table. "I got to work with some of the stuff hands on."

Ike's reptilian eyes sparkled, greedily. "Oooh, I wish I was in your shoes, Slippy. What I would do to get my hands on some of Andross's work."

"Yes, indeed..." Slippy trailed off, staring off into space and nervously wringing his hands.

"Anything wrong, Slip?" Ralph asked, eying Slippy's half-empty cup of coffee.

"N-Nothing..." Slippy mumbled.

Ike bent over, leaning in closer to Slippy. "Say!? What's been eating you lately? You look as nervous as a kindergartener waiting backstage at his first school pageant! Wringing your hands, shaking uncontrollably, and stuttering up a storm!"

Slippy snapped back to the present. "Oh, uh... sorry, guys. There is something I need to take care of, but it's actually... quite... personal."

Ralph cringed at the word. "Personal my foot! How can there be anything more personal than the last two tid-bits of information you shared with – "

Slippy was saved by the bell; the large announcement feed was projected onto the glass windows of the front lobby, followed by a chime to alert all of the workers to watch. Every screen in the AWG headquarters immediately switched to the same news feed. Slippy's friends turned their attentions away from him and onto the massive screen.

One by one, every, single, jaw, in the lobby and lounge of the building, dropped.

Slippy's eyes bulged more than usual, taking in the news feed; plastered across the screen were videos of Bowman's speech, the Cornerian Chancellor confirming the news, several frantic reporters, scrolling text, the black hand of the Oikonny family... and the New Year's Eve Clock, slowly ticking away.

All around them, workers began to panic. Some fell into hysterical fits of screaming, some made wild dashes for the doors, and others collapsed onto the floor. Slippy Ralph, and Ike all slid back down into their cushioned seats around the coffee table. Slippy breathed out, "Wow..."

Ike covered his face in his hands. "Is this really happening?"

Ralph shook his head. "It's-it's-it's all a joke! A cruel April Fool's joke!" The canine rose up from his chair to gesture at the news feed. "HA HA HAAA, MR. CHANCELLOR! WE GET IT! JOKE'S OVER NOW!"

Ike sat up. "Oh for the love of God, QUIT MAKING A FOOL OUT OF YOURSELF!" He grabbed onto Ralph and pulled him back down in his chair, giving him a sound slap to the muzzle. "Just get a dang hold on yourself!"

Slippy began shaking again. "It's impossible. It's just impossible. Who would have thought the end of the world would ever come?"

"What the hell are we going to do now?" Ike asked, checking his wrist watch. "We have three hours left before midnight."

Ralph jumped up again, nearly knocking the table over. "Well screw the AWG! I ain't waistin' the last of my life in a worthless dump like this! Screw business! Screw money! Screw everything!"

The duffel bag pressed hard on Slippy's heel. "Look, guys, about that personal problem..."

Ike met his eyes. "It just got a whole lot less personal?"

Slippy nodded. "I... uh... stole some copies of Andross's material."

Ralph looked down at him, laughing. "Really Slippy? Really? You're serious? You're dead serious?"

"What do you mean?"

"This is beautiful! It comes to the end of the world and all you have to confess to is stealin' a few documents! I can see why you were the employee of the month so many times!"

Slippy glared at him. "Then you can also see why my crime was so bad. They trusted me! They took me in, knowing fully well who I was! They entrusted those files to me, top secret files! And I stole them! And now it's the end of the world..."

"Well, if it comes to me," Ike said, "I think now is the time to make right all of our wrongs, come to terms with everything, forgive and forget. You know the drill."

"Why Ike!" Ralph gasped in disbelief. "I'd never thought an existentialist like you would ever get a religious streak."

"It would take the end of the world..." Ike agreed.

"I've got to turn myself in," Slippy mumbled, once again staring off into space.

"What for?" Ralph and Ike asked at the same time.

"For stealing the documents."

Ralph bent down so he was at Slippy's height. "Why would you turn yourself in? No one gives a dang anymore! It's the end of the world!"

"Exactly!" Slippy said, standing up and wading into the crowd. "I'm confessing because it is the end of the world!"

His last picture of his friends was of Ralph giving Ike a baffled look and Ike shrugging back, completely at a loss. The realization that this was the last time he would see them hit Slippy like a sledge hammer. He waded deeper into the turbulent sea of workers, intent on making everything right.

Fox staggered out of the warehouse, drenched in blood and carrying a briefcase full of credits. Tears were flowing from his eyes, his pulse still racing while his gut was twisting inside of him from nausea. He dropped his blood-soaked knife onto the snow-covered ground, its wight and sharp edge stabbing into the pure snow, flung the briefcase off his back like a millstone, and bounded forwards with his last reserve of energy. His strength failing him, Fox slipped on the newly fallen snow and fell into the chilly powder. Pushing himself to his knees, he looked at his blood-stained paws, then felt his crimson soaked jacket and pants. Recoiling in disgust and fear, he plunged his hands into the cold snow, trying to clean them of the blood. He grabbed fistfuls of the icy flakes and rubbed them against his clothes, but nothing worked. He felt himself panicking, loosing his self-control as his breathing quickened, his chest heaved inwards and outwards, and his heart pumped blood through his veins at hyper-fast speeds. He threw himself against the ground, writhing like a snake, but with no success; he could not get rid of the crimson stains.

So this is what a panic-attack feels like, Fox thought.

Defeated, he curled into a fatal position, sobbing his eyes out like he had years ago when he learned his father had died at the hands of Andross. "Oh God... why..." he whimpered, crying into his hands. When he hid the stains of blood from his eyes, he was only assaulted with images in his head of the gruesome fight inside the warehouse. The blood, the panicked shouts, the blood, the flashing weapons, the blood, the screams of anguish, GOD, THE BLOOD! Fox grabbed his head, forcing his eyes shut and shaking back and forth. He finally resorted to beating his head against the snow covered ground, but the present pain did not help him to forget what had happened. He stopped, gasping at the air, tears dripping from his eyes, chest heaving from exertion, and body shivering from his freezing sweat, until he finally relaxed. He lay there at least ten minutes, face pressed against the snow, feeling pain until there was nothing left to feel.

Long after his tears had dried, his wrist comm beeped. He took his time in answering, slowly raising the comm to his mouth as he stared up at the dark sky. Knowing who it was, he spat, "What."

"I was calling about our deal," Mothchild's voice answered him... but something was missing from it, maybe the pride or malice that normally tinged it. In a way, he sounded just as defeated as Fox.

Ignoring the change, Fox channeled his grief into anger. "Look, the job is done, but my contract is off. I'm quitting. The briefcase is outside the warehouse, you can pick it up whenever you feel like. I'm not accepting any pay; I don't want your money."

"McCloud... Fox..." Mothchild had never used his first name before, "the credits don't matter anymore."

"What do you mean?" Fox asked, a wrench thrown into his engine of rage.

"Nothing matters anymore..." Mothchild breathed heavily, causing the comm to fill with a storm of static. "Here, this will do a better job of explaining than I could. I'm sending you a link... and, I'm sorry, Fox."

Fox sat up as Mothchild closed the communications line, and he opened the link to a news article his employer sent to him. His jaw slowly dropped as white light lit his face from images of the New Year's Clock, the black hand of Androssian family, and Dash Bowman's warning. "No..." he whispered. He dropped the wrist comm into the snow and fell to the ground once again, dizzied by the events of the day. It was all too much, but after what had happened, he was completely prepared for the end of the world, welcoming, even. Fox was at his lowest he had been in his whole life, and now he was actually looking forwards to the final "finis" in his own tragedy.

"What have I done?"