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Mission No. 59

Zoness
District 13

"The Proving Grounds"

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Falco woke to sirens that morning.

The alarms rose above the city, echoing between the dilapidated buildings till they finally breached the window to Katt's room. They climbed and fell in pitch like long, drawn out waves washing over the avian's ears, worse than any alarm clock he'd heard.

Falco groaned and sat up. At the same time he felt the covers shift and turned to see Katt waking beside him. She rose and rubbed the sleep from her eyes.

"Sirens," Falco said.

"No shit," she mumbled, blinking.

"Those usually mean storms, right? Like, really bad storms?"

"They used to…"

Katt slipped out of bed, her fur mussed and ruffled. She yanked the blanket off and held it to her front, approaching the window to look out. It was pathetically-small and high-up, almost prison-like, and smeared with dirt on the outside. She had to stand on tiptoes to properly see the alley and adjacent street outside.

"Sky seems uncharacteristically-clear this morning. But now the sirens are used for more than just storms. During the war they warned of Venomian air-raids, encouraging people to shelter in the sewers. It's… it's probably just a test."

Falco slipped out of bed after Katt, joining her beneath the window. When he put his hand on her arm, he found it trembling. His eyes widened when he realized her whole body was wracked by small tremors; he could even see her heart beating in overtime as her bare chest rose and fell.

He wrapped her in his arms. "Katt, you're shaking. Did you sleep at all last night?"

She looked down, releasing a fractured breath. "I'll… I'll be alright. I don't need it anymore. I know I can do without it." She clutched her temple, and Falco brushed her forehead softly. "It's… it's probably just those sirens. They got me all worked up, but I shouldn't be. They're… they're probably just a test."

Falco wanted to assure her it was; to pull her back to bed and stop her shakes; to calm her and tell her she'd make it through—but he knew it wouldn't be so simple.

"It's… not a test," he finally said. "If it was, the Bureau would've warned everyone. Something's up."

Releasing Katt from his embrace, he began dressing. He looked at himself in Katt's mirror, scowling at the bandages that still covered him. It had been a few days since the showdown with Grimmer, and—while their new nurse tended to him well—he had a long road of recovery ahead.

Sensing Falco's worry, Katt began to dress as well. "You think it might be something else?"

"I dunno, but I got one of those feelings…"

Once dressed, the two rushed through the small kitchen and into the shop. They met several of the other Free Birds, all of whom had recently woke up as well. They arrived in various states of dress, yawning and blinking. There were familiar faces like Mouser, Bowser, Kitt, and Pukes, with the addition of several new hired guns; more than enough to repel Grimmer in a siege on the garage if need be, and more seemed to join them each day.

"What's up, Boss?" Mouser coughed in a raspy voice. "I haven't heard dese sirens since the final Venomian raid!"

"Maybe it's pirates!" Kitt exclaimed, perhaps too exuberantly.

Falco could only shrug. "Beats me, but something's definitely up."

Just then a Bureau squad car drove by, an officer on a loudspeaker droning out commands, though they couldn't quite make them out. Rather than stopping, it drove right past the garage and vanished, the motor and sound of the officer's voice once again drowned out by the sirens.

A thud sounded on a raised car overhead, followed by Shani nimbly landing beside Falco in a crouch. She straightened up and jokingly saluted him. "Bureau officers are patrolling every street, giving those same warnings. Claim they found an unexploded Venomian bomb they gotta diffuse. They're evacuating everyone from our sector of the North End—including us."

Bruiser—Katt's robotic helper—suddenly buzzed. "Evacuation orders have been received. Please exit the shop in a calm and orderly fashion. I will lock down the garage and stay behind. As a machine, I am expendable—"

"Come, must hide Pukes' lab before we are leaving!" Bowser said, heading towards the back.

But Falco held up a wing. "Hold it!"

Everyone who'd gone to run off turned to look at him again, surprised.

"There is no bomb," he declared. "They just want to get us away from our fortress so they can strike."

"You think it's a trick?" Katt asked.

"Exactly. We're getting popular around here after supplying Corruption and challenging Grimmer. The Bureau can't ignore us anymore. They want something done about us, but they also know a siege would be violent and costly—and make a scene. Getting the civilians out ensures no one gets caught in the crossfire."

"Then they're coming for us today?" Shani asked.

"Maybe: but it's more likely they've cooked something up with the Gang so we can settle this without their involvement. They want us to take each other out, and they've given us the space to do it. So there ain't no way in hell we're leaving the garage this morning. Instead we stay—and fight."

The Free Birds cheered, pumping their fists and waving their weapons in the air. Falco started giving instructions, overseeing the defense preparations as the rest of the Free Birds dug their heels in. They took up positions on the roof, in back alleys, and behind doors. Even inside the garage, they arranged the cars like defensive walls to create cover in front of the back rooms.

Atop the roof, crouched behind the shop's giant neon lettering, Falco and several others watched the evacuation below. It was still in the wee hours of the morning, with the sky only recently lightening from a deep blue to a soft cyan. The street lights switched off, and underneath them marched long lines of residents. They left their homes locked or carefully boarded-up, carrying their belongings in suitcases or bags over their shoulders. It reminded Falco of similar evacuations he'd seen during wartime, having traveled to several populated planets.

But some stayed behind, bomb or no bomb. They remained hunkered down in their houses and apartments, peeking through curtains or between the wooden slats that boarded up their windows. Either they feared looters might rob their homes during the evacuation, or, like the Free Birds, they knew something else was up…

After half an hour, the last of the refugees vacated the North End. The streets were left empty in the dim light, only occupied by early morning mists rising off the dirty asphalt. Not a noise could be heard—barring those damn sirens, of course.

"Psst, over there," Katt pointed, hunkering beside Falco.

He followed her finger to a lone figure walking out of the mist. He approached the garage head-on, in the middle of the street—after all, there weren't any cars, nor pedestrians to witness him. He wore a black cloak and gas mask, disguising his appearance and species; but even from this distance, they could see the green patch sewed on his shoulder that represented Grimmer's Gang: a green lizard's claw curled into a letter G.

On the other side of Falco, Shani raised her rifle. "Shall I drop 'im?"

But Falco quickly shoved her gun barrel aside. "No, wait! He's alone."

She lowered her weapon slightly. "Awww…"

The figure approached, undeterred by the Free Birds perching on the roof, nor those hidden in the adjacent alleys. He walked straight up to the front of the garage and stopped, lifting his mask-covered face to the sentries above his head. The mists curled into the air around him like eddies of smoke.

The relative silence dragged on, increasing the tension—but still, the figure stood and stared.

"What?" Falco simply called down.

Reaching into his jacket, he removed a paper envelope and dropped it on the sidewalk. With his singular task completed, the apparent messenger turned his back and calmly strode into the golden mists—the same way he had appeared.

While the sentries above scanned the nearby streets, Falco ventured out and picked up the envelope, now soggy from its time on the damp sidewalk. He returned inside and began tearing it open, quickly surrounded by curious Free Birds.

"It's from Grimmer," he told them. "He accepted my challenge for a one-on-one fight."

All the Free Birds next to him cheered and congratulated him—all that is except Katt, whose face twisted with worry.

"He told us to come to the shipyard. Doesn't care how many people we bring—so long as I fight him alone. I think he intends to settle the turf war today—and so do the Bureau and Black Dragonfish, I bet."

"How do you figure that?" Kitt asked.

"If it was just the Bureau alone, they wouldn't have gone to this trouble to set up a fight between us; they would have used the opportunity to seize the garage and be done with us. But I got a feeling there's pressure on them not to. The Black Dragonfish took notice of us. They gave Grimmer their blessing to fight us on the street last week, but he failed to get rid of us—and I don't think they'll let him fail a second time.

"Grimmer's on shaky ground with the Black Dragonfish. If he loses tonight, their alliance will be off, and the Dragonfish will look for someone else to run the North End. That someone could very well be us! So, rather than let the Bureau wipe us out, they want us to fight; to earn their favor. I think they see potential in our leadership, and in our product. If I can beat Grimmer today, we'll make ourselves a powerful new ally and secure our hold over the North End!"

While the others mounted their bikes or took up defensive positions, Katt followed Falco into the back room of her shop—the one she'd hidden the Azure Sky and her own bike in. Falco's beautiful new steed now had numerous scratches and nicks in the paint, much like the avian himself.

Katt approached him from behind, arriving just in time to see Falco tilt his head back and pop a few blue-and-red pills. She couldn't see how many, but by the sounds they made from clinking together, it seemed like more than usual—and more than Pukes had recommended.

"Falco…"

The avian turned around to meet her, face looking more somber than she'd ever seen it before. He lifted an eyebrow when he saw the worry in her eyes.

"Do you still doubt me?"

Katt looked down, avoiding his gaze. The silence dragged on till it became her answer.

Falco stepped closer and placed his hands on her shoulders, still feeling them shake from her withdrawal. "Hey, don't worry about me out there. I know what I'm getting into. I wouldn't have made the challenge if I thought I didn't have a chance. I'll read his mind and see every move coming. He won't lay a finger on me! And besides, I already beat Dimmer the same way; his brother can't be that much tougher."

The feline exhaled, trying to soak in comfort from the weight of his hands on her shoulders and keep her own trembling in check. "But Falco, you're wounded now, and you haven't had long enough to recover! Literally anything could go wrong out there, and I can't stand the thought of Grimmer… the thought of him…" She sniffed and trailed off, tears welling in her eyes. "After all these years, I just got you back…"

Falco lifted her chin till she met his eyes again. "Hey, you're talking to the Great Falco Lombardi here: ace of the Star Fox team and hero of the Lylat Wars! I went all the way to Venom, didn't I? This is nothin' in comparison."

Katt couldn't help but smile at his bragging. "All I want is for you to come back in one piece today—or heck, I'd settle for several as long as you survived. Deal?"

He grinned. "Deal."

They hugged, and Falco leaned down so Katt could kiss the side of his beak. She gripped him tighter than she ever had before, as if this was the last time she'd be able to hold him.

"Falco…" she whispered, voice trembling. "I don't know how much longer I can last like this."

He gave her a reassuring squeeze. "Hold on just a bit more, Katt."

Together the Free Birds arrived at the North End's shipyard. The path into the dock wove through walls of blue and red shipping crates stacked like pills. They towered over their procession, boxing them in like cliffs perfect for an ambush. But, as Falco led the way through the twisting labyrinth, he couldn't detect the thoughts of anyone hiding atop them—only those of a large group waiting on the other side.

They rounded the last corner, entering a wide-open area cleared in the middle. Walls of shipping containers hemmed it in from every side, except the empty wharf and sea to the right. An open space of pavement lay between them and Grimmer's Gang, who were waiting opposite them. They looked impatient, having probably waited quite some time for them to show. They'd brought their bikes and odd weaponry, but most were dismounted or seated casually on their vehicles. Grimmer stood out in front, arms folded and muscled chest bare, facing the Free Birds. Even from this distance, Falco could see the Black Dragonfish's tattoo curling up his bicep.

Katt's hand clenched down on Falco's arm, her claws digging into him as she tried to stop her shaking. "F-Falco…"

He rubbed her paw gently. "If you need it, go," he whispered.

"Th-thank you," she gulped, releasing him. "I swear to you, Falco. I swear to myself, this'll b-be my last time…"

Katt stood free of Falco for a second, clenching her fists and tilting her head back to the sky. She closed her eyes and sighed, regaining her composure and mustering her strength. Then, with her ears folded back, she slunk across the dock to Grimmer, who stood grinning at her. He passed her a single syringe of Allusion, and she reached for it—but when her trembling fingers closed around the cylinder, he wouldn't let go—not until she met his eyes with her hate filled ones, allowing him to gloat. Then, he released it, and she fell to her knees behind him. She faced away from the Free Birds in shame, rolling up her sleeve as the Gang snickered around her.

Falco swallowed; he hated seeing her like this—but Shani gave him a reassuring punch on his arm.

"Knock that fucker dead, Falco!"

"Yeah! Sock 'im one right on da jaw!"

"Blow lizard man's brains out!"

The other Free Birds patted him on the back as well, fully confident in their miracle worker. Falco marched forward, and Grimmer did the same, leaving Katt and the rest of his gang behind.

Falco swallowed. He tried to exude confidence for Katt and the others' sakes, but inside he felt apprehensive. Having Corruption in his veins was one thing; being able to use it was another. Grimmer would be even harder to beat than his younger brother, and this time Falco was handicapped with wounds. Additionally, he had to worry about the Gang's reaction if—shit!—when he won.

As Falco walked towards the center of the pavement, the sun lit the adjacent ocean a sparkling viridian till the specks of light dazzled him. Still, his eye caught something on the side of a nearby shipping crate. It was a red graffitied design: an intricate circle with dozens of patterns made of a single, unbroken line. He felt like he'd seen a similar one before—perhaps even doodled a few himself, unconsciously. But whatever the case, it somehow filled him with courage upon seeing it.

The two leaders met in the center of the concrete, stopping a few yards apart. The emerald-scaled iguana towered a full head above Falco, and was broader, too. If it came down to simply who was stronger, Falco would be toast—which was precisely why Grimmer eyed him so suspiciously, as if expecting a trick.

"You know the terms, right?" Falco asked when the other remained silent. "Whoever wins stays in the North End, and the others leave, never to mess with them again. You'll… you'll let Katt go. We have an agreement—"

"Yeah-yeah, whatever," Grimmer hurried him. "You kept me waiting long enough. This was your idea, so get the fuck on with it."

Falco sucked in a breath and slowly released it, trying to calm himself. He struck a fighting pose, firmly planting his feet on the ground and raising his fists protectively in front of his face. Grimmer mirrored his stance, but instead of closing his fists he kept them loose, showcasing his claws. The impatient reptile began inching his way counter-clockwise, and Falco was forced to move opposite him. It was clear Grimmer led this dance.

When the spectators saw them beginning to circle, they erupted in excitement. Both sides began cheering their leader on, or jeering at his opponent. Falco could distinctly hear his friend's voices shouting encouragement: there were Bowser's rumbling roars, which sometimes lapsed into Venomian in his zealousness; there were Mouser's shrill yet raspy squeaks, piercing above the uproar; and there were Shani's encouraging cries, hurling obscenities across the dock yard.

Meanwhile, Katt looked over her shoulder as she knelt on the ground. She didn't dare say a word, but she didn't have to in order to encourage him; even the whispered prayer of her thoughts drowned out the roar of the crowd because of how well his mind was attuned to them, and they filled him with hope. But as the Allusion kicked in, she kept seeing Falco and Grimmer's last fight from years ago superimposed over their current one, and it filled her with dread.

"You're awful ballsy challenging me like this," the lizard rumbled. "You know my brothers offered to kill you in the middle of the fight. Imagine their nerve. 'Course I back-handed 'em both for even suggesting it. This right here is what I've always wanted: just you an' me, and no one else interfering."

"I'm warning you Grimmer, I've killed before," Falco said. "A lot more than you have. It was a part of my everyday routine in the war. I don't want to kill again, but I will if I have too."

Grimmer laughed. "Back when the Venomians invaded, I did my share of killing too. Oh it was always in the dark, when the occupation forces couldn't know it was me or the gang, but I left a fair few corpses in the gutter myself. I won't hesitate to kill you now, either. In fact, I plan on it. So I don't know where you get off by saying that. It's not gonna make me go easy on you; nothing in the world could make me do that."

Falco licked his beak. "Look, we've both fought Venomians, right? We used to be on the same side a year ago. Why does that have to change? The Venomians may be gone, but we still share the same enemies: the Bureau, the Underworld, all this stinkin' pollution no one else wants to fix… If we worked together, we could—!"

"What are you plotting, Lombardi?" the lizard interrupted. "You think you can beat me just because you humiliated my idiot brother? I don't buy it. You got lucky, which means you must have something else up your sleeve now. So what is it? Hiding a poisoned knife? Got a sharpshooter up on those crates waiting to pick me off? 'Cause there's no way in hell you'd ever think you could beat me in a fair fight. What gives?"

Falco's eyes narrowed. "I'm saying it's time we grew up and put aside our petty squabbles. We need each other."

The iguana growled. "Like shit I need you. If you're trying to talk your way out of this, it's too late to back down now."

"Grimmer, listen—!"

But the lizard charged, and that was the end of negotiations.

Grimmer went straight for a right hook aimed downwards at Falco's head, throwing the momentum from his run behind it. Falco just barely managed to backpaddle out of the way, though he felt the air as his fist passed inches from his beak. He cursed himself for being caught unawares; if he was going to win this fight, he couldn't let his guard down now, and he had to be reading Grimmer's mind every second.

Rather than faltering after his attack missed—like Dimmer might have—Grimmer used his momentum to swing himself in a circle, boots scraping against the concrete as he swerved to face Falco again.

Doing his best to concentrate, Falco tuned his mind to Grimmer's thoughts, letting the lizard's inner-monologue drown out his own. Every thought his opponent had was telegraphed to him; every input his five senses picked up, and every tightening of his muscles to produce movement. As if through Grimmer's eyes, he could see himself staring back: a smaller but defiant pheasant. Grimmer's gaze darted around his posture, searching for an opening to pounce on: a weakness to exploit.

After a few seconds of their standoff, the lizard found it; Falco let his defensive left wing falter.

That was all Grimmer needed. He lunged forward, twisting his shoulders to swing his right fist around again. The move was so spontaneous Falco had trouble anticipating it; Grimmer's reaction time was faster than his brother's. He didn't so much think out his plans in his head as much as he simply acted. His attacks were instinctual, and not easy to read.

Falco only had a second to react, but he was more prepared this time. He slipped beneath the cross punch, ducking inwards to jab Grimmer in the stomach. His fist struck the lizard's abdomen, causing him to grunt and falter. Falco made to jab again, but Grimmer twisted away, and his punch landed on his leathery flank, deflecting harmlessly.

Falco drew back, knowing his window to land successful counter hits had closed as Grimmer turned to face him. Apparently listening to Grimmer's thoughts wasn't enough; it'd be too slow. He had to feel every twitch and contraction of his tendons to know where his next strike would be. He had to react just as instinctually as the iguana, as if the lizard's muscles were a part of his own; he would be an extension of his opponent rather than a separate entity.

Grimmer growled, frustrated that Falco dodged his first two attacks. He closed the gap between them again, raining a series of calculated jabs, hooks, and vicious uppercuts at him in quick succession. But Falco read his thoughts and felt each one coming a mile away. He pivoted on his feet, ducked, and bobbed, expertly avoiding each strike.

As the lizard continued to attack, he read him like a book. The unwitting fool might as well have been shouting all his attacks on a loudspeaker before he made them. It almost didn't seem fair to Falco, though he knew that even a slight slip-up on his part might spell instant defeat…

The fact that Grimmer had failed to land a single hit on Falco—even a deflected one—infuriated him. Just like his brother, his temper boiled over and spilled into his attacks. The lizard traded subtlety and tactics for brute force, forgoing calculated attacks for relentless ones. He began making clumsy moves, recovering slower from missed hits and leaving himself open to counters.

Falco took full advantage of Grimmer's blind rage. Whenever a failed attack left him open, the avian pounced to land a few blows of his own. But Grimmer's scaled hide was harder to dent than he thought. His scales deflected most of his blows, and his leathery flank absorbed the rest.

It wasn't until one particularly-clumsy, all-or-nothing hook that Grimmer left himself open long enough for Falco to land a blow against his face. He felt his fist smack squarely against his unguarded jaw, and Grimmer's ugly snout snapped to the side. He pulled away, grinning confidently as the Free Birds cheered behind him. The jeers died in the Gang's throats while their leader reeled from the hit.

Grimmer paused, cupping his jaw in his hand and pulling it back to find smears of blood on his claw. He snarled and clenched his fists, stomping towards Falco again.

"Why… won't you… stand… fucking… still?!"

The iguana came at Falco like a piledriver, throwing planning to the wind to hammer him with everything he had. Falco did his best to bob and weave, but he couldn't dodge everything, and one swipe came to fast. He was forced to block it directly, absorbing the brunt of the force on his arms. It shook Falco's very bones, and his beak clacked from the tremors the iguana sent through his body. Shit! He couldn't afford many more of those.

Falco threw everything he had into feeling his opponent's moves beforehand—as if they were his own. He was steeped in Grimmer's consciousness. His fists became Falco's fists. His muscles became Falco's muscles. His punches became Falco's punches.

It grew difficult to distinguish the lizard's identity from his own. He was ceasing to exist as a person. The gang leader's unadulterated hate flowed into him, coursing through his veins. Never had Falco so fully understood someone's loathing of him: how since they were teens they'd been rivals, constantly racing and brawling back and forth; how Falco had made fools out of his two brothers, one after the other; how he'd put Grimmer in a tight spot with the forces that really ruled Zoness—both the Bureau, and the Black Dragonfish; and how he'd turned half the people of the North End against him.

After spending so much time in Grimmer's head, Falco was beginning to empathize with everything his enemy felt. In fact, he had begun to hate himself.

He couldn't stand it any longer. Having such a close, front-row seat to this bottomless resentment made Falco's skin crawl as with thousands of insects. Unable to stomach so much of the slimy lizard's mind at a time, Falco yanked himself out, coming up for air.

It was his fatal mistake.

He'd been so deep in Grimmer's head he'd forgotten the state of his own body. His arms felt bruised from taking so many hits. His defenses grew lazy, and his reactions sluggish. Making things worse, he felt his wounds reopening. Grimmer hadn't landed a single successful blow on him, yet he could feel blood mixing with sweat beneath his clothes. Painfully, he felt his stitches bursting, one-by-one.

Futilely, he blocked several more of Grimmer's hooks, but by now his vision was becoming a blur. The iguana drew back and jabbed at his chin. Falco was too slow to block and took the full brunt of the force smack on his lower beak.

…He went down.

Just like three years ago, he went down—and the memory of his earlier defeat at Grimmer's hands began to play over this present reality.

The Free Birds' cheers died in their throats.

Grimmer sat all of his 200-something pounds on Falco's legs, pinning him to the concrete. Falco only glimpsed his snarling face for a second before he felt the lizard's fists begin to strike him. They came from the left and right, snapping his head back and forth. Falco began to spit blood in either direction—but even that wasn't enough for Grimmer, who started repeatedly nailing him with his dominant hand till the vision in the left side of his face went dark.

The Free Birds were horrified. What had been a spectacle of Falco making a fool of their rivals' leader had quickly degraded in the blink of an eye. The match had turned around so quickly their heads spun. Mouths gasped, jaws dropped, and hearts skipped beats. They were horrified to see Falco go down—especially Katt.

Unable to stand it any longer, she jumped to her feet and rushed forward to save him. "FALCO!" she screamed—but Scrimmer caught her in his arms and held her back, laughing at her despair. Falco heard her desperate cries, but everything sounded washed out to him. The sound in his left ear was like a roar of white noise pierced by only a high-pitched ringing.

The Free Birds hesitantly drew their blunt weapons, exchanging glances. If they rushed out to save him, all hell would break loose between the opposing groups, as Grimmer's Gang had already started inching forward as well. But rather than risk the confrontation… they stopped.

Their antics went unnoticed by Grimmer. As far as the iguana was concerned, this moment was between him and Falco. The filthy shipyard disappeared around him, till all he could see was Falco's bloodied face dazedly staring up at him.

At first he let out a little chuckle. Then it turned into a euphoric series of laughs. He'd dreamed of this moment for many nights, and he wanted to savor every second of it. Each satisfying smack sent waves of dopamine crashing through his veins. By now he had beat Falco within an inch of his life—in fact, he couldn't even tell if the bird was still breathing. He probably wouldn't know the exact moment he died. Maybe he had already passed it, and was beating a dead corpse. But regardless, he'd pound fist after fist into his enemy's face till it lay broken in shreds on the concrete.

"Ow! What the—?!"

The voice came from behind him. Katt had jabbed her syringe into Scrimmer's arm, causing him to curse and release her. She dashed across the pavement, shoving Grimmer off Falco and placing herself between the massive lizard and his prey.

"Back off, Grimmer! You'll have to kill me first if you want him!"

The iguana blinked in surprise, annoyed that his blood-sating had been interrupted. Then he laughed, slinging red droplets from his knuckles and claws. "You worthless cunt. I have a dozen girls like you. I didn't want you; I never wanted you. I only kept you around all these years just to ruin Lombardi even more. I had you on a leash and branded; I had you suckin' your precious Allusion off my dick! And tonight you'll come crawling back for more—even after I've killed your man!"

Panting, he looked up, eager to see the looks of horror on the rest of the Free Birds' faces.

…Odd. There were more of them than he'd expected.

A lot more.

Grimmer's eyes widened. What had only been a force of a couple dozen Free Birds had multiplied—not two or three times, but tenfold.

A throng of people had gathered with the Free Birds. At first they came up behind them, peering over their shoulders and around Bowser's wide girth to watch the end of the fight unfold—but when they saw the butchering going on they drew closer, standing shoulder-to-shoulder with the rest of the team. If Grimmer's gang was double the size of Falco's in the beginning, the newcomers dwarfed his now.

Shocked, the lizard paused his jeering. His gold, reptilian eyes flitted around the crowd. They weren't new members of the Free Birds at all: not hired guns, nor recent recruits. They were just people: common, everyday people—the citizens of the North End. And, while they weren't mercenaries or hired muscles, they sure were armed. They brought baseball bats, metal pipes, pistols, loose boards, rolling pins—any serious military force would've laughed at them, but, in this moment, Grimmer couldn't.

He turned his attention back to Katt, glaring. "When did you get all your friends to come crawling out of the woodwork, bitch?" he bellowed in her face, spittle flying. "You all shoulda stayed in the gutters and alleys where you belong, feeding off the slime with the roaches! The North End is mine! You all are mine!"

He pointed to Katt. "You're all just like her! You need your precious fix of Allusion, and no matter how much you hate me, you always come crawlin' back for more! I have you people on a leash, and there's nothin' you can do about it! You call yourselves Free Birds, but you'll never be free! The Dragonfish are on my side, the Bureau's on my side; they gave you to me on a silver platter! Don't bite the hand that feeds; you need me!"

Katt's fists trembled as she clutched her syringe—but it wasn't from withdrawal now; it was from rage.

"No Grimmer, I don't need you anymore. I don't prefer your leash. I want to be free, even if it hurts."

Raising her paw, she spiked the syringe of Allusion at the concrete, shattering it. When she looked up at him, there was a raging fire in her eyes.

The lizard's bellowing jaw snapped shut. The crowd began to step forward, glaring at him and smacking their makeshift weapons against their palms; Katt wasn't alone. Grimmer clenched his fists and stared them down, daring them to approach—but at the same time, his legs felt weak and shook beneath him. He could only mask the fear in his eyes with rage so long before the charade fell.

Surprising Grimmer even more, he heard Falco groaning. At once Katt helped the avian back onto his feet. He was shaky at first—his legs wobbling even more so than Grimmer's. He rose to a stooped hunch, then with much difficulty straightened all the way up. The lizard was shocked; he couldn't believe the number of bloody stains soaking Falco's clothes, many of them from places he'd never even hit during the fight. But even through it all, Falco stared defiantly up at him.

"You've lost, Grimmer," the avian coughed out. "You can beat me to a pulp and kill me, but even then, I've left something behind that's bigger than myself. Your pathetic empire's just a bunch of kids living it up, and they'll go running once you're down. You're a headache for today, but tomorrow you'll be gone, and no one will remember you. Even if I die now, the Free Birds will remain. While you made enemies, I made friends. While you tore the North End down, I lifted it up. And while you sold petty street drugs, I spread something more.

"They're waking up, Grimmer. The people of the North End are waking up, and soon the rest of the District and maybe all of Zoness will follow. You can't empathize with people; your heart can't feel what they feel. You can only rule with fear—and that's why you lost this fight today."

Falco sprang forward. The avian pulled back his fist for an attack, so Grimmer threw up his arms—but Falco chose that moment to plunge right back into his mind. He felt where the lizard had directed his defenses and instinctually corrected mid-swing. His fist sailed under Grimmer's raised arms and struck him squarely in the neck. The lizard dropped his claws and released a terrible, choked-out cough. Falco followed up with another punch—straight into Grimmer's unguarded stomach. When the lizard doubled over, he threw him to the ground and jumped atop him. He beat the lizard's face back and forth, slugging him with one punch after another: eye for eye, tooth for tooth. All the pent-up aggression he'd had trapped inside of him and pinned beneath Grimmer's weight earlier now boiled over.

But, whether he wanted it or not, his mind continued to meld with Grimmer's. He still felt the iguana's senses as if they were his own, which meant every blow he landed on Grimmer, he felt too. It felt like he was hitting himself, and it absolutely hurt. Every punch delivered a corresponding sting to his face; every tooth he knocked out felt like it fell from his own mouth—and Falco didn't even have teeth. He almost felt sorry for the downtrodden lizard…

Yet he didn't let that stop him. It was a good pain, like drawing a splinter, or purifying a wound. He continued his assault, battering Grimmer almost as ferociously as the lizard beat him. He pummeled him till he couldn't fight back, and he was powerless to stop Falco. By now he knew the lizard could see nothing but stars.

Sometimes it hurt putting someone down—but all the same, he knew it had to be done, and the cheers from the crowd behind him only made it easier.

Emboldened by his speech and violent display, the crowd behind Falco charged. Grimmer's Gang turned to flee—all except Scrimmer and Dimmer, who quickly sprinted towards their fallen brother and the oncoming horde. Falco didn't know what happened from then on; one second he was stumbling off of Grimmer, and the next the three lizards and their henchmen were swallowed by a sea of bodies.

The remaining gang members mounted their bikes and attempted to speed away. Some raced off along the wharf or disappeared in between the labyrinth of shipping containers like scattering roaches. Others were so desperate they jumped into the filthy sea and swam for it. Falco didn't see what became of the trio of iguanas, but those of the Gang who weren't so lucky to escape quickly found themselves overwhelmed and taken to the ground, where they were beaten like their leader.

Falco watched it all unfold in disbelief, his spirit soaring. Then behind him he heard Katt call his name. He turned just in time to receive her hug, which squeezed him dangerously-tight.

"You did it! You really did it!" she sobbed over his shoulder. Then, when she pulled away he saw her eyes were filled with tears and worry. "You're bleeding! All your wounds reopened, you big dummy! We have to get you back to the shop!"

"On it, miss!" Bowser said.

The crocodile picked him straight off the ground and began carrying him in his arms, but Falco stopped him. "Hold it, I'm not done here."

"But Falco, you are hurting!"

"I have something to say, Bowser; I need 'em to hear me. I can't just disappear after everything that's happened. So lift me up, will ya?"

Grunting, the croc reluctantly raised him onto his shoulders, where Falco swayed precariously. He opened his mouth to speak, but the words died in his throat. So many faces looked up, smiling at him. Some he recognized, like the old hedgehog grocer he'd saved from Dimmer, or Tosca the nurse. Others he'd never even met before, but they knew him all the same. He hadn't felt so honored since the end of the Lylat Wars, but somehow, his victory today meant more to him.

Shit, what would Fox say?

He shook his head, shrugging. "Just… Thank you all for believing in me."

Immediately he was drowned out by a wave of applause and cheers. It came from all the new Free Birds recruits, as well as the crowd of citizens. They surrounded Falco and Bowser, chanting his name over and over again as they lifted their fists in the air.

Eventually he raised his wings and motioned for them to be quiet. When the cheers died down enough, he spoke.

"Today's the turning point for the North End. Grimmer has finally been routed, we've sent a resounding message to the Dragonfish and the Bureaus, and Corruption is here to stay—but I'm not done yet. And I hope you aren't, either. I won't be satisfied with just fixing the North End, or even District 13.

"There was a time when everyone in the system stopped their petty squabbling and fought side-by-side against the invaders. Well, maybe it's time we put aside our differences and tried that again—but one way or another, with or without the help of the powers that be, we're gonna fix the Lylat System and return it to the way it was!"

The crowd erupted in cheers again, then began alternating chants of his name and the Free Birds.

…But they were so absorbed with their new savior that they didn't notice a dark figure atop the wall of shipping containers. The sea breeze whipped through his ragged gray jacket, his face obscured by a gas mask.

Having seen and heard all he needed to, the figure crawled away from the edge he overlooked, slinking to the rear side of the container. Nimbly he dropped down onto a second one beneath it, then to the concrete floor. As he passed each surface, his scales shifted hue and texture, expertly blending in with each new material.

Once at the bottom he rolled up his sleeve and raised a wrist unit to his mouth. "Our favorite bird won," he rasped.

A chuckle sounded from the other side, accompanied by a smooth, dark voice. "…Good. It's time."

"Don't have too much fun without me, Wolf."

Looking both ways in the tight corridor, the figure crouched over a manhole cover and removed it. Then, he lowered himself in and replaced the top, disappearing into the sewers beneath District 13.