"Nearly all men can stand adversity, but if you want to test a man's character, give him power."
- Abraham Lincoln (1809 - 1865)

Lara-Su clapped her hands once in self congratulation, standing before her masterpiece. She may not have had the skill of the Four Turtle Masters of the Renaissance, but she'd put a lot of work into this, and it actually came out pretty well. Dominating one of the walls in her rented apartment loft were two paired whiteboards, covered with arrows names and scribbles. On the top most part of each board were chronological divisions, represented by a fox's face that was at first smiling and friendly, angry and scowling, and then sporting one eye blacked out. Other, less legible, scribbles were scattered around on the corners and sides.

"I think I've got it all here…" Lara said, eyes tracing over the meandering arrows that connected one even to another. Twirling the black marker in her hand, she nodded in satisfaction. Everything seemed to be in place: from the events that had happened, to the events that should have happened but didn't, to the events that would have happened if things hadn't gotten screwed up.

Central to keeping the timeline from shifting completely off focus were a few key events. She wasn't terribly concerned about Helios or the Battle for Knothole. With some minor changes, it was likely that something that big would happen no matter what. The stuff around Shadow, she gave a small blue question mark in a circle. It would probably go like it had before, but there was a chance she would have to intervene. Other events, like Tails meeting Nail, seemed basically on track, if slightly different. Those, she underlined in blue.

Unfortunately, there were a number of events that now seemed completely out of the timeline. Things like: 'Tails and Cream meet' and 'Tails/Cream date' were slashed out in red. Instead, new events that didn't belong were inserted in red marker: 'attack on comm. center' and 'Babylon Rogues.' Some future events, also rendered near impossible by recent events ('infiltration of Nor'easter' had an X on it), had to be factored for. As Lara studied it, though, there were other disturbing facts she had to contend with.

First were the sources of the disruption. The Rogues she knew about, and had left to Tails. The others were mercenaries, but two others were unknowns. She had been discretely trailing those two for some time, but hadn't yet found out who they were or what they were up to. Another problem, besides these new people causing trouble, was the fact that other things had shifted as well. A perfect case in point was Fiona. The Miles she knew had said that the only Fiona he had ever cared for was the aggravating android he had rebuilt, and that he hadn't given any thought at all to the original. In this time line, however, Tails and Fiona had more of a history.

Could ripples in the timeline be going back, as well as forward, in time?

Or had someone gone even further back than her, and tinkered with things?

She'd already interfered in events, giving Tails that GEAR so he could chase after the culprits. Her own actions, Lara referenced on the chart with green marker. She'd hoped to keep them to a minimum… but if the disturbances in the time line were so severe that entire chronological events were being displaced and rearranged, then it was possible she would have to step in directly to ensure that the major events ticked off on schedule.

Nibbling on the cap of the marker, Lara considered that.

So the real question was: what were the events that had to be carried over in continuity and what could she afford to ignore or alter outright by her interference?

THE CYCLE OF AGES

CHAPTER FOUR:

Nothing Else (A Steady Fall From Grace)

The boy had actually left him directions to the site.

"Don't mind me," Tails said, tossing a towel over his shoulders as he headed in. "After I meet with Sally, I have some special projects to looks into… In the mean time, if you want, you can put Nail through his paces. You'll see exactly why I'm interested in what he can show me…"

This wasn't how Tempest had been told the boy's training would go.

Granted, Miles was nothing like normal kitsune youngsters. In a healthier environment, he would have began his training from the time he was weaned. Like all boys, he would have been assigned a hunting party (whereas girls transferred to military units), where he would have formed close pack bonds with the friends and comrades he would have for the rest of his life. His days would be spent learning the art of the hunt, the use and maintenance of weaponry, food preparation, social protocols, and written composition. During and after his Turan'ha, he would then find a niche to specialize in.

This "work" the Princess had him doing wasn't conducive to a natural upbringing. It divided the boy's focus, and took away time that should have been spent honing his physical and mental discipline. Tempest wasn't happy with it. He also wasn't happy that the Elders had neglected to mention the strength of the boy's Chaos Powers. Tempest had never even heard of a kitsune with those sorts of abilities. In fact, as far as he knew, Kitsune never became chaos adepts. They weren't even sensitive to chaos energy when it was right in front of them.

Which was why Nail could be, to quote the boy himself, "useful."

Tempest wasn't so sure. Bringing the Princess in on some of the training was fine, since she'd stick her nose in on things anyway, but bringing in yet another outsider? And an echidna? It was very… unorthodox. The whole trip was turning out to be disturbingly unorthodox. Even the very start of the training arrangement was off due to the boy's lifestyle and commitments. Tempest had to consider the growing possibility that the boy wouldn't come out of the whole experience as a proper kitsune would. What he would turn out as, then… Tempest couldn't imagine.

"I guess I'm just improvising as I go…" he hated to admit it, but it was the truth.

Following the trail through the forest, the fox caught a foreign scent. It stuck out like a sore thumb in this land, and could only be one of a very few things. Logically, it had to be that echidna. Earlier in the day, he'd detected another unusual scent near where he was staying, one that didn't belong on this part of the mainland. He could smell some of that nearby, too. It was suspicious. Tempest's eyes narrowed and he took in another deep breath of air, nostrils flaring. At least he could recognize one of the scents with relative certainty.

Echidna.

He kept walking, taking in his surroundings. There were other scents, too: mobians. Locals. Up ahead, nearing the end of the trail, he saw an open area partly fenced off. A sign on the fence indicated that the area within was a weapons testing range. Tempest smirked; it was an appropriate enough area for him to meet this echidna and see what he could contribute to the curriculum.

Eyes searching over and into the canopy of trees, Tempest paused.

"Nail, is it?"

A moment later, the conspicuous dark red coloring of an echidna drifting through the air confirmed his suspicions. By the looks of him, this was the guy. He seemed outwardly no different from the others he had heard about (though never actually seen). He was darkish red color, almost brick, with the long dreadlocks typical of his people. The headscarf was white and long, blowing in the breeze behind him.

"You must be Tempest." Nail landed softly in the middle of the range.

"If you don't mind me asking: just what are you doing here, echidna?" Tempest asked, trying to get a handle on the other Mobian's motivations. "I've heard that your people are non-aligned in the Southern War."

"Most of them are," Nail responded. "There are a select few who work with the Freedom Fighters from time to time, despite the non-interference laws that were recently passed. Besides, I'm not exactly what you'd call a normal echidna."

Tempest tried to read his opponent, and came back satisfied.

"Very well... I see no malice or deception in your eyes. Perhaps being around these so called 'Freedom Fighters' here has made me slightly…paranoid." Tempest again thought of the soon to be 'dead' Clan of Surni'var. "Life here... for them seems to be tenuous at best."

"It is," Nail agreed, glancing off in the direction of Knothole. This far out from the city, it was invisible, protected by the city cloak. "It's hard to find a moment of peace. But they always do somehow. In many ways they're a big family. Always looking out for each other and helping on another out in times of trouble. But also in many ways they're annoying."

"Very annoying. Especially the hedgehogs." Tempest silently finished evaluating this new arrival. He was fairly sure the echidna wasn't a threat - at least not a physical one.

Nail grinned at the hedgehog comment. "Believe it or not, Rush is the better of the two. At least he's willing to listen to some advice from time to time. But Sonic…"

Nail balled one of his gloved hands into a fist. "He has such great potential, but it's wasted because of his over inflated ego; he never listens to anyone until it's too late! This war could have been over a long time ago if…To be perfectly honest, I have no idea how Sally stands him. He's one of the reasons I prefer to stay out here instead of inside the city like everyone else."

Tempest smiled, and a long shadow from the branches high above fell on the two. "Too true... However, I doubt it'll likely matter much in a few days."

"Because of Tails?"

"Yes. The boy has a number of Blood Feuds down here. I suspect he'll want to settle them before going back North." Tempest spared Nail a quick glance. "How much do you know?"

"My master, Athair, has suspected something for a long time," Nail replied. "A power laying dormant in him. He has already used the Chaos Force to empower himself several times, but I had plans to try and tutor him in… nuance and spirituality, you could call it."

"I know you probably don't want it or need it…" Nail remembered everything Tails had told him, about the Turan'ha, and Tempest himself, and decided this was definitely the best way to go about doing what needed to be done. "But I'd like to offer my help in training him."

"Nuance and spirituality?" Tempest seemed to find the remarks somewhat amusing. "Unusual words, from an echidna. Putting aside the utility of such things, and no offense intended... but no echidna I'm aware of has the hardiness required for such a job. Unless you were the so called Guardian of your people I've heard so much about."

Nail didn't seem insulted.

"Funny you should mention that," he said, calmly. "I'm connected to the Guardian in a way. And I have a few tricks up my sleeve that might surprise you. But if you need a true test: how about a friendly match? Right now. It's why we're here, isn't it?"

A cool breeze blew across the cleared ground, ratting the fences that surrounded the weapons testing area. Tempest scratched his chin. "One would almost suspect that the boy knew we would end up in a fight."

"Are you saying you're not interested in a friendly spar?" Nail motioned with his fingers.

Tempest's smile widened, exposing his canines. "No. I'm not saying that at all."

Tails sat at his workshop desk, but his eyes were on one of the nearby monitors.

"Why is it so hard to resist the urge for friendly banter?" he wondered, having no problem speaking his mind in the privacy of his workshop. Then he shrugged, and diverted his right hand to a keyboard, activating a number of secondary systems and sensors. The left, meanwhile, continued to type on another keyboard, where a schematic was slowly taking shape.

Tempest turned around fully. Reaching up, he idly craned his neck to the side, and back again, before cracking his knuckles, and loosening his arms a bit. "Shall we keep it within this area?"

"This area has already seen its fair share of destruction," Nail remarked as he got into a fighting stance. "And this forest has seen enough strife as it is."

The kitsune fox nodded in agreement. There was no point risking further damage to the natural habitat on which Knothole depended. Keeping the fight to this clearing, which would only end up being blown up or blasted later, was a good idea on the boy's part.

"You may want to bundle that up." Tempest pointed to Nail's headscarf. "It'll get in the way."

"I'd rather not remove it," Nail said, quickly, and a little defensively.

"As you wish…" Tempest didn't pry.

His hands flowed through the air, moving forward and slightly cupped, as his stance altered slightly in response to Nail's. He advanced cautiously until he was a short distance from the echidna. Sizing him up mentally, the Kitsune projected the expected paths of attack mentally, and opened his senses for stray thoughts. He began in earnest with a simple set of strikes he got about halfway through, before he noticed Nail was moving far too fast for any 'normal' echidna. Following through on the attack, Tempest blocked Nail's first counter strike.

Though it was light by standards Tempest was used to, it was still far stronger than should have been possible. Kneeing up, and intercepting another counterblow, Tempest increased his speed and concentrated on more complex, counter-predictive combinations of attacks, fleshing out his opponent's strengths and weaknesses. Finally, after over thirty seconds of dancing with his opponent, he realized that he was getting nowhere. Tempest opened up with a duo of forearm strikes Nail dodged easily, but had the intended effect of finally breaking their cycle of blows.

Tempest wasn't breathing hard.

But... neither was Nail.

"Odd." Tempest again checked the echidna. He seemed normal, despite the increased heart rate, and the rush of blood to his muscles and face. He smelled again, sure that he must have missed something earlier. "You aren't an android, are you? Some other type of unnatural creation?"

"So… figured it out already, huh? I should have expected nothing less. Tails wasn't kidding about you…" Nail sighed, but didn't bother trying to come up with any elaborate excuse. "If you must know, I'm something of a clone of the current Guardian of the Floating Island, Knuckles."

"A regular Clone?" Tempest asked. "No normal echidna, cloned or not, could move like you just did."

"Well to tell the truth, I'm not entirely sure myself. All I know is that I have a strong tie to the Master Emerald on the Floating Island. And since I… earned my freedom, I've been trained by Athair. He's a sort of holy man of the echidnas. Though that description hardly does him justice."

"He taught you to fight like you did against me just now?"

"Not exactly," Nail explained a little reluctantly. "Most of that was implanted in me when I was...'born.' Why, what's got you so worried?"

"Your style of fighting is... very human. Highly unusual for one who is an echidna, and whose body lacks the structure to fully utilize such techniques."

"Human? …There's probably a reason for that," Nail muttered.

"You... had an overlander as your mentor? ...Or was he your creator?"

"He was NOT my mentor!" Nail yelled, suddenly. "He never was and never will be!"

"I was only curious." Tempest was honestly surprised by the outburst. "Information on their fighting styles is very difficult to come by. I had hoped you'd know a living, flesh and blood overlander I could meet and learn from. Most of my knowledge on their styles is second or third hand."

Nail 'hmfed.'

"You wouldn't want to meet him. Trust me."

"I see," Tempest decided not to broach that subject further. "Would you like to continue?"

"Yeah. And try not to hold back this time. You know I can take it now."

Tempest nodded just once, and resumed his attack. He had learned numerous styles of fighting, but his personal preference was the Vandal School, perfected by the recluses of the Fa'Rah Clan. After much groveling and trial, he had learned many of their secrets and adapted them into the family style his father had taught him. However, it had never simply been this training in these arts that allowed his rise to Ephor Anthal. It was his insight in battle he was most known for.

As the two continued to trade blows and counterblows, Tempest kept trying to feel out Nail's overall style. This was only a friendly little exhibition match, after all, so there was no need to try and end things quickly. Especially because he was curious about this training Nail had been 'born' with. At first, it seemed almost nonsensical, composed of combinations of seemingly unrelated moves. It was only once Tempest realized and confirmed that they were numerous human styles, it quickly became perfectly clear.

Nail had been programmed with these skills, in pre-ordered and organized sets. Tempest didn't know if his opponent planned it this way, but Nail's moves were all flawlessly executed, but inflexible combinations from each of the Arts he'd been given at birth. It seemed to have no real pattern, because one combination could be from a totally different set of martial arts that the one before or after it. Only the basics were the same. After only a few minutes, Tempest had quickly identified and noted a dozen different sets of moves Nail seemed most fond of, and the styles of combat associated with each. It was obvious that the echidna clone had perfect working knowledge of these techniques, but not a whole lot of real life experience in their use.

"You fight very well, Nail…." Tempest jumped back and away, rebounding off a tree, before coming to his feet. His body had not escaped the exchange cleanly. The fox had picked up a few bruises, despite his stressing flexibility and avoidance early on, in the effort to decipher Nail's style. "If we continue... if you choose to, one of us, or possibly both, may be injured beyond that of normal sparring. Few animals can fight against me when I'm at this level of seriousness."

Nail nodded, understanding. He belatedly nursed a nasty bruise on his arm. "Well I'm up for it. I can take a few bruises, and I'm a pretty fast healer. But if we're going to turn up the heat, then I'll need a minute."

"Of course," Tempest lowered his arms and waited. "By all means."

He also thought, very briefly, about going into Bloodlust, but decided against it. Unlike normal Mobians, the kitsune spleen could release, along with a reservoir of red blood cells, a potent 'battle cocktail' of hormones that resulted in dramatically increased oxygen transportation and muscle response. It also had the unfortunate side effect of clouding the mind, which made it a poor trade off in Tempest's experience. He'd only ever seriously used it once, and that had been a life or death situation with no clear alternative.

From the looks of things, Nail seemed to be doing something similar. The echidna was in what looked like a defensive stance. But Tempest noticed something different about it.

He just wasn't quite sure what.

Then he felt it… a slight shift in the air. He concentrated on Nail again, who seemed to focusing on something. Nail's face became serene, like he was asleep but still standing. Virtually deaf to the Chaos Force himself, Tempest only realized what he was seeing when emerald green energy began to coalesce around the echidna. Looking down at his right hand, Tempest felt his black ring tingle and grow a little hotter. After a few seconds, the energy mostly dissipated, the ring cooled back to normal, and Nail again got into his attack stance.

"There!" He said excitedly. "Now I'm ready."

"Interesting…!" Tempest looked more closely at the 'energy' around his opponent, now tinting Nail's red fur a shade of softly glowing green. "Very interesting!"

Naturally, Tempest smelled the air, and checked again, but found no evidence of photo-illuminative cells on the surface of Nail's skin, nor any pyrotechnic elements in the air. Almost desperately curious, Tempest searched telepathically, and finally got a 'feel' for whatever was surround the echidna. Though exactly what he was feeling mentally, he had no idea.

'This introduces new variables,' he thought, both rationalizing the scenario and searching for its weakness. 'It could be a force field. Or some type of ablative barrier that explodes when touched. Is it defensive or offensive in nature? … Is it even natural?'

'Only one way to know for sure…'

Tempest silently cursed the unknown, and charged.

Nail saw Tempest approaching and could sense his confusion. He smiled a bit at that, but didn't let it get to him. He knew that Tempest was still a powerful fighter and possibly even more dangerous when not entirely sure what he was up against. He waited until Tempest was only a few feet away before jumping into the air, flexing his power, and landing behind the confused fox. Before Tempest could turn around, Nail brought his foot forward and buried it in his opponent's left shoulder blade, causing him to jolt forward slightly.

"What on Mobius?" Tempest spun, touching one foot to the ground, before pushing off expertly, and kicking out, aiming for the slowest part of the body - the collar. Then, to the fox's surprise, Nail drifted backwards, avoiding the blow.

"How?" Tempest gasped, then, landing on his hand, noticed Nail was floating in midair.

Not jumping.

Not accelerating.

Just floating.

That wasn't natural!

Tempest checked again: No rockets. ...It couldn't be an artificial anti-gravity field. Nail wasn't carrying anything remotely like that. It had to be some strange technology or power! He had to find out more about it!

"You're just full of surprises aren't you?" Tempest called out, altering his original stance to land backward, instead of forward, and narrowed his eyes.

"You don't know the half of it. You really want me to come at you with everything I've got?"

"I don't think I'm going to give you a choice!" Tempest' smile turned to a smirk, and in his open palms were two small cylinders. Instantly, on command, they expanded and folded out into two long polearms, specially designed, and slightly shorter than normal, with the blades extended backwards another half the normal length. He then squeezed, and the blades folded up and retracted.

"I don't like surprises, you see..."

In a flash, faster than before, Tempest charged, the two short de-bladed polearms glistening in the light hypnotically. And despite trying not to, Nail found them distracting his eyes from Tempest himself, and accelerating backwards at top speed, he barely avoided a lightning quick shot at the last second. Tempest didn't hesitate, or let the miss linger, instead conserving the wasted momentum to turn and continue his attack from a different angle. Nail growled, and kept using his mobility to his advantage, avoiding or snapping aside most of the single strikes, and simply dodging the crossed ones no matter the opportunity.

Individually, the sticks were difficult to block and avoid, but they crossed and turned, making it hard to follow their movements or predict where the next attack would come from. Finally, sensing a break in the attack, Nail jumped up and away, catching his breath. Looking himself over, he noted that he'd been struck in numerous areas, though none had hit hard enough to break anything. Tempest was slower than him, no doubt about it, but his speed and skill with those weapons…

"I see you have some surprises as well. Well here's another one of mine!" Nail shouted as he stretched his hand out, palm forward. Tempest looked on, a bit surprised by the odd gesture. Then, in the same motion a small ball of energy, emerald green with wisps of yellow, grew and flew from Nail's hand and crashed into one of the polearms Tempest was holding. It glowed for a second before silently exploding, turning most of it into little scraps of metal.

Which… shouldn't have happened.

"What…?" Tempest looked at the ruins of the polearm he had instinctively used to block the... whatever it was, with. The soft expandicore had transitioned into a gas, ruining the weapon despite its insulation. He'd never seen anything like it.

'Could this be… Chaos Control? Damn!' He mentally hissed. 'At least it wasn't one of a kind. But still…'

Tempest looked up and growled, throwing the ruined weapon away. Nail was still in the air. A jump would be too easily intercepted, and too slow. That meant ranged combat... and after seeing that… that THING Nail had shot at him, Tempest didn't like that prospect. By the power behind it, if it wasn't some sort of Chaos Energy attack (whatever that even meant) it was likely some kind of concealed weapon. Maybe an implanted plasma accelerator, like the kind he'd heard some cyborgs and robots had.

"Fine then!" Tempest rested the length of the remaining de-bladed polearm against his forearm, in a reverse grip supported by his free hand. "Don't think that'll work more than once!"

Holding up both hands, Nail fired again; Tempest seemed to tense, briefly, before lunging under the blast and breaking into a run. Nail focused more chaos energy down his arm and into the chaos orbs, but Tempest seemed able to read each one even before it left Nail's hands. In seconds, the kitsune had closed the distance between them. Nail flew higher, gliding upwards, when he jerked forward.

Looking down at his legs, he saw a wire – barely visible - wrapped around his ankles. By Tempest's stance, he could guess that the wire originated from the weapon he still held and around his other hand. With a jerk, Nail fell back to earth, crashing first into the ground, and then off to the side and into the fence. Cocking his head to the side, the echidna deftly avoided the detached blunt end of Tempest's metal polearm, which he had thrown and which he promptly withdrew, from half way across the weapons testing ground.

"I'm getting careless…" Nail muttered to himself. "I need another plan."

His immediate problem was the wire still wound around his ankles. Pinpointing it, he fired down at the ground with both hands, weakening it just as Tempest pulled back, aiming to slam him into the fence on the opposite side of the field. Barely escaping in time, Nail shot off to the side, building up a reserve of chaos energy. His use of the Master Emerald's power, through Athair's intercession, gave him the raw material to work with. But he didn't have the innate mastery of it that Sonic, Knuckles, and Tails enjoyed. More to the point, his body couldn't handle it as theirs did, leaving him unable to transition Chaos Energy into a physically malleable state.

Despite what he'd told Tempest about healing quickly and taking blows, damage soaking with his kitsune opponent was a sure fire way to end up beaten into a bloody pulp. Dodging another one of Tempest's attacks, Nail formed a different plan. He flew back a bit further and then began to rapidly fire at the areas around Tempest, not bothering to try and hit the quick moving fighter, and instead simply kicking up as much dust and dirt as possible.

When he was sure the screen was enough, Nail raced down towards where Tempest still stood, aiming to end the fight with a surprise kick the side of his head. To his own surprise, the fox caught his heel, and bringing his wrist down and elbow up, flipping Nail in midair. Stabilizing himself in midair just enough to land on his feet, Nail frowned. Hand-to-hand combat with Tempest probably wasn't the best idea, but he's hoped that the smoke screen would give him enough of an edge, since he could at least feel out Tempest's general location without relying on his eyes.

Nail had made a serious mistake, getting close to Tempest.

Tails watched the fight with one eye, focusing mostly on his work. He had every intention to finish the day with ample opportunity to learn from the two Mobians beating each other up over at the Electronic Warfare Testing Range. Better yet, the instruments recording the fight, including the Chaos Spectrometer, had confirmed his own suspicions. Nail was channeling energy from the Master Emerald (a waveform Tails had ample readings on, thanks to Knuckles) in a manner that was significantly different that what Tails had observed in Sonic and himself. Tempest, meanwhile, registered as having a constant but negligible waveform, even in the heat of combat.

Tempest had mentioned that kitsune were generally chaos insensitive, but Tails' own experiments had already concluded that certain kitsune abilities represented a low level form of chaos use. It was hardly remarkable. Dulcy and other Dragonkin were similar, but it was a surprise to see that it was a trait his people had as well. The ability to utilize ambient Chaos Energy, and the ability to channel Energy by proxy, were both of interested to him.

Like Sonic, Tails' body actively absorbed Chaos Energy he came in contact with, be it in the form of rings or actual Chaos Emeralds. This 'Black Body' state also seemed to be inexhaustible, compared to someone like Tempest. While the older kitsune absorbed a small amount of ambient energy and stored it until it was used, without even knowing it, someone like Sonic better resembled a bottomless pit. Sonic could absorb ring after ring after ring of Chaos Energy, each sufficient to empower a hundred normal kitsune, growing more powerful… but never reaching absolute capacity.

At the same time, this system Sonic enjoyed was incredibly wasteful. Factoring waste out of the equations, Sonic should have been able to use the power in a Ring for weeks, even assuming peak exertion. To date, Tails had been unable to determine where all the waste Chaos Energy went. Obviously, it didn't just disappear. The Finitevus Theorem stipulated that the waste energy was being channeled into a Universal Reserve, where it would build up until reaching critical mass.

If not for the ban on developing Chaos Siphons, Tails would have tested the theory more rigorously. As it was, if a Universal Reserve did exist, it offered the promise of virtually unlimited power. Power equal to an entire set of Chaos Emeralds. With that much at their disposal, Knothole… and the Freedom Fighters… would have all they needed to bring the war to its conclusion. His own accelerating mastery of Chaos Control, combined with an understanding of the two other extremes of waveform manifestation, represented by Tempest and Nail, offered promising avenues of research.

Tails watched, taking his eyes off the monitor with the nearly complete schematic, to watch Nail stumble back, holding his limp right arm. Pressure point. Tails had made that same mistake, too. He had warned the echidna that Tempest was a master of esoteric martial arts. Still, there was a lot he could learn, and not just through experimentation. As Tempest had said, experience was just as important.

Conventional force of arms had failed in the past. Like in Downunda…

And even now, the Freedom Fighters were locked in a seemingly endless circle of attrition with the remnants of the Eggman Empire. Since Sally had little stomach for war ending super weapons, and the humans and echidna had both dropped out of the fight (indeed, both sides often seemed to be hoping to drag out the war), that meant that neither logistics, tactics, nor diplomacy could bring things to anything but a long and bloody close. Estimates for the final push on Robotropolis had been projected at thirty to forty thousand, with an 80 loss rate among the bulk of the army conscripts.

Chaos Control was the answer. Tails was sure of it. With it, he could end the war, and protect everyone he cared for. Any hypothetical accolades he received for it were irrelevant; what mattered was that the maximum number of lives were saved. Though, Tails had to admit, a part of him would enjoy proving everyone wrong; showing all of them just how much of a hero he was, even if he wasn't Sonic.

Why else would the thought bring a smile to his face?

He activated a small communications panel built into the work station. "Rotor, I'm sending a few things down to the shop. Priority One. All the hands you can spare."

On the other end of the line, Rotor paused as the blueprints were sent over.

"Are these what I think they are?"

Tails' smile never wavered.

"They are," he replied. "You know me. Once I start something, I like to finish it."

They met in an abandoned mansion out in the Ring. The once palatial estate had long since been overrun by creeping vines that now covered half the rotting wooden façade of the East Wing. Grand arches still stood outside, by empty pools and gardens turned grassland. Save the eastern half of the mansion, little else remained. A tray bomb had long since turned the rest into kindling, leaving only the skeletal brick remains of chimneys, jutting like ribs into the sky. As two figures approached the building, a murder of crows swarmed from their roost in a tall tree, squawking angrily.

"Birds don't like you very much, do they?" one of them commented.

The other didn't dignify the comment with a reply.

Crows circling overhead, the two entered the overgrown grounds adjacent to the remaining façade. Walking inside, entering what had once been a grand kitchen, their reception was less than warm. Two mobians in rag tag fatigues were in wait, weapons at the ready. The two trespassers merely held up their hands, empty save for one item: a small lacquer box.

"You'll have to excuse me for being cautious…" A third mobian entered the ruined old kitchen, carefully stepping around a moss covered and far from functional oven, left open in the last few frantic moments the inhabitants had had. He was a lynx with light fur and careful, wary eyes. Unlike the two others, he was unarmed, and wore a loose shirt and plain black pants.

"We understand," one of the new arrivals answered, keeping her hands in the air. "I've heard about the trouble we gave you. Sorry."

"Those boys got sloppy, and whatever you've done, it's rightly pissed off some serious players uptown." The lynx nodded to his two men, and they searched the female, patting her down for any obvious concealments or surprises. Blaze closed her eyes and endured it. Next to her, Silver hid his expression less effectively. He was clearly less than happy with how familiar the guards were getting with her.

"The loss of five or six men is less… troubling than the fact that the boys uptown found out about the other two meeting spots," the lynx continued. "I have what you wanted, though. The price is unchanged."

"Good," Blaze replied, her voice level, even as the guard finished patting her down. He then ran a small radio scanner up and down her body that detected nothing out of the ordinary.

"She's clean," the guard confirmed.

"The case, too," the other added, handing it back to its owner. They then did the same to Silver, checking for bugs or any other surprises. When they finished, having found nothing, not even a personal weapon, the lynx snapped his fingers and motioned them to keep an eye out while they went further inside.

Beyond the kitchen was a sitting room, but it had been cleaned up just a little. Four fold out chairs were also present, along with a small table. Walking inside, Silver found himself looking up at a dusty portrait of the mansion's original owners. It was a family portrait, flanked by hooks that may once have held swords and a coat of arms. The walls were stripped bare now, of almost anything valuable. Even many light fixtures were conspicuously uprooted. Nearby, the cracked face of a half destroyed grandfather clock reflected his apprehension in its broken glass.

The lynx kept no guards in the room itself as a sign of trust.

"May I see it?" Blaze asked, having little patience or interest in pleasantries. She placed her lacquer box on the table.

"Do you have the code?" the lynx asked.

She did. "Nine. Four. Six. Two."

The lynx nodded, and lifted a large carrying case off the ground and onto the table. Two separate locks were required to open it: one mechanical, and the other electronic. After setting the numbers in place for the first lock, 9-4-6-2, he retrieved a small plastic e-key from a chain around his neck, normally kept tucked into his shirt. Inserting it into the other lock, the case opened with an audible click.

"A security feature…" he assured them. Opening the case fully, he carefully removed an item wrapped in paper and foil, and handed it over. Blaze took it from him with only an instant's trepidation. She slowly unwrapped it, revealing dark tinted steel and bronze.

Revealing a scepter, dark as the night. Delicate silver veins, etchings, ran up and down the heft of it, like coils of poison ivy. The craftsmanship was beyond reproach: every angle and surface was covered in it, giving the impression of an inky, living thing. While a scepter in design, it seemed almost a mace in motif, with the head branching into eight spiked crowning flanges, around cylindrical lantern-like core. Stylized bird's wings wrapped around from the sides. Blaze held it up to the light, inspecting it carefully.

"It is genuine, I assure you," the lynx spoke up. "The Scepter of Dark Dreaming, formerly of the Mobian Institute of Art and Culture. From the Alder Collection, confiscated in 3187."

"It looks like it," Silver noted.

The comment earned a raised eyebrow from the lynx.

"I only deal in reputable merchandise and serious collectors," he added, checking the lacquer box Blaze had brought with her. Opening it briefly, just enough to check what was inside; he closed it again and inclined his head to her. "Ma'am, I wish you luck in your future endeavors."

Something about his comment provoked an odd little laugh from the feline.

"…Thanks."