Chapter I: Nature Versus Nurture

The Ultimate Lifeform

Bugs, Birds, and Basilisks

Never in his life has he wanted a flamethrower more than he does right now.

To see this disgusting, festering cesspit of filth and vermin razed to the ground would bring him great joy. While he can't bring himself to smile, the thought of it carries some small comfort as the pair hack and slash their way through the leaves and bushes in order to forge a rough path ahead in the jungle. Despite the time of day, it's rather dark for them; the canopy swallows much of the sunlight with hungry greed.

A mosquito buzzes right in his ear and he swats it dead. His success brings no satisfaction, because there's always another mosquito; or another hundred. It's like trying to empty the ocean with a bucket. "Why so grim, handsome?"

He turns to see her looking at him as their vibro-machetes slice through nature's blockade. "I should be asking you the opposite…"

"What?"

"How in the world can you be so… fine, in the middle of all this? Every time we find ourselves in places like this, you never seem to be bothered. Not even a little."

"You mean jungles?"

"Yes."

She tilts her head while he smacks another mosquito that makes the mistake of getting too close. "Well why is that every time we go into one, you lose your marbles?"

"Where do I even start? The humidity? The muck and dirt that's everywhere you touch or step? The insects that keep coming too close, buzzing in your eyes and ears like they own you? Or how about the countless microbes that without a doubt are covering every single centimeter of this place, including us? Bacteria, viruses, parasites, and who knows what else. Everything about and within these places sickens me…"

At his listing off of grievances, she laughs. The two of them come to a stop as she struggles to move forwards and he stares at her. "What exactly is so hilarious?"

"No, it's not funny, I swear, I swear!" she says while desperately fighting back the laughter and covering up her smile. Trying, that is. He's not amused.

"I see. It's so 'not funny' that it's got you like this."

"Look, it's just, I don't know, I didn't expect this from you of all people."

"Expect what? For me to enjoy dirt?"

"No, just so bothered by it all. 'The Ultimate Lifeform' is a germaphobe it seems."

"I am not a germaphobe. I-" he says, but a crawling sensation on his leg cuts short his rebuttal. He looks down to see a spider the size of his palm inching its way up, which he grabs and flings away. "Ugh! Repulsive thing..."

"And an arachnophobe to boot."

"I am neither of those things. Phobe means fear, and usually irrational at that. I don't fear any of these things, I merely disdain them to the absolute degree. And even if I was afraid, it would be backed up with considerable rationale."

"Why? Aren't you immune to literally every illness, period?"

"Yes."

"So how is fearing them rational? Besides, where did you even pick this sorta thing up? The ARK was pretty sanitary last I was there. Was it a pigsty fifty years ago, gramps?"

"No. It's always been a clean place. Being in space and highly controlled and regulated tends towards that, obviously. But when I was there, it had to be sterile. For Maria's sake."

"Because of her illness, right?"

"...Yes."

"So it was about her then, not you."

She's right, but he's unsure of how to respond. To his relief, she spares him from answering. "Look, let's just focus on finding these damn birds. The sooner we find out what they're up to, the sooner we can get the hell out of here, 'kay?"

"Sounds like a plan."

The two resume their trek forward, and he continues to endure it all as best he can. Several minutes pass, with sounds ranging from buzzing bugs to chirping birds as well as croaks, calls, groans, and growls going unbroken. Insects continue to assail him without relent, and he is forced to defend himself without rest. The air oppresses with its moisture and the ground shifts under every step. After some time, he decides to interrupt the noises of the jungle. "What about you? I would've never guessed you'd be so- arh, comfortable in an environment like this."

"Simple really: I grew up in this kind of place. Alexandrana, if you're wondering."

"And where's that?"

"You've never heard?"

"Evidently not."

"It's in the Marshlands, Southern Acorn, along the Grand Flouve."

"Oh, you're from the Baronies then."

It's not a question. "Woah, you did not just say that."

"Say what?"

"You're lucky you're not over there, mister, or you'd be dealing with a very vocal crowd. Marshlanders ain't Barony boys, remember that."

This distinction doesn't interest him at all, but he decides that is better kept to himself. "Well, I guess that explains the lack of accent then…"

"Oh no, they don't sound at all like I do. I picked up mine from my father; he was a northerner."

"How'd you end up-" he cuts off his question before can finish asking it. The sight of smoke in the distance catches his eye. It's not easy to see it through the thick of the jungle, but it's there.

"How'd I end up what?"

Another mosquito comes too close and pays the ultimate price for it. "Forget that, there's smoke up ahead. Looks like we're getting close."

To this information, she nods. The duo crouch down and sneak forward, mindful to maintain a low profile and not make any loud noises. Ferns and bushes brush against his body while moist grass and dirt come uncomfortably near. They rise over the crest of a hill and a massive temple complex comes into view. The grounds are an impressive sight, especially in contrast to the environment that surrounds them. Stone buildings and monuments stand in surprisingly well-maintained condition, all things considered. Though they are still blemished by cracks and chips along with some vigorous colonization from vines, moss, and other flora.

Here, one can see the light of the Sun clearly, as there are no trees to steal it all from those below. The whole complex easily surpasses several thousand square meters, and might even be in the double-digit thousands. He's no archaeologist, but wagers this place was likely the heart of whatever civilization called this region home. Now, only the ruins remain. It reminds him of an old Soleannan saying—the original Solarian escapes him; he'll have to ask Blaze for a refresher next time they meet—about time: 'Everything flows.'

Dark clouds rise from the ground along the circumference of a ring that encircles the area. It appears all the plants that were in the immediate periphery of the temple grounds have been burned to cinders. "Guess that explains the smoke."

All across the grounds, Battle Birds can be seen on roofs and in buildings, whether sitting or standing. They occupy the breadth of the complex, and their attire as well as weaponry marks clear their presence as strangers. Though their apparel differs to some extent, they all generally wear the same strange uniform as that of the rest of the ground forces of the Armada: A pair of goggles which either rest on the forehead or over the eyes, short shorts, and black jackboots. Some wear caps or bush hats and more than a few have a cybernetic limb or other prosthesis. Several disconnected towers, about the height of an average human, rest on each roof. They glow various shades of blue and purple. They could be advanced detection or shield systems, or just bug zappers. He very much hopes for the latter, for multiple reasons.

A variety of weapons rest in all their hands, from rifles to flamethrowers to grenade launchers and more; it appears a few of them are wearing levi-packs while others man machine gun or mortar emplacements. A trio of what he assumes are mechanics tend to a large bipedal construct; whether it's a mech or a machine, he can't tell, though he's happy to not find out. The Armada has never eschewed bizarre weaponry or tools, and their time under Robotnik seems to have further fueled this.

A bug, he's not sure what kind, crawls on his leg, and he squashes without sparing a glance. A thorough cleansing in the decontamination chamber followed by a long shower is in order after this, though that's at least a couple weeks off from now considering their current mission and progress so far. From this vantage point, obscured and muffled by the foliage and ambience of the jungle, the two of them can scope their enemy out sans any worry of detection. She leans close to him, close enough for him to feel it. "Looks like we found our nest."

Her whispers comes clear through the sounds of buzzing, but their existence bothers him still. He nods and turns to her. "Yeah, and it seems they've all come home to roost…"

"How many do you count?" she says as he turns to scan the grounds.

"Hard to say; a lot can and probably are hidden inside the buildings or what looks like the main temple. Right now, I'm seeing well over ten dozen."

"Damn, that's an insane detachment for this dusty relic. Wonder what's got their attention? Pretty sure the former inhabitants of this place were last around when calendars were still in the single digits…"

He shakes his head and points to the stone buildings. "No, look at the structures. They've got none of the wear and tear you'd expect for that long an absence."

"So, locals got kicked out recently?"

"Guess so."

"Still doesn't explain why these birds are here, though, and this many to boot."

"No, it doesn't. Any ideas?"

"No, but I've got an idea on how to figure out."

"I'm all ears."

"Good, cause we're gonna need them. Let's try listening."

"Very funny."

She gives a smug look. "Appreciate it, handsome. Now get the eavesdropper out."

"That's not what it's called." he says as he retrieves the long range listening device from his hammerspace along with four earbuds.

"It's what I call it, and you understood what I meant, so stop complaining and hand me a pair. Let's see what worms these early birds are so interested in."

He hands her two buds which she inserts into her ears, and he does likewise. A visual sweep across the breadth of the grounds for a potential target is quick to bear fruit. An osprey approaches a starling. He points to the pair and manages to make out Rouge saying "Bingo." a second afterwards, which indicates that they're on the same page. He aims the device at the avians, and waits for them to speak. Once the avians meet, the osprey gives an upward tilt of his head while the starling tilts hers downward.

"Haai, Kommander, kan I speek with you?"

"Ja, Maghanu, what is it?"

"How kom we're down hier in this freeking jungaal?"

"Reallie? This again?"

"We've been down hier for way too long! This damned land is krawling with insekts, not to name all the other kreatuurs uit there. And don't even get me started on the natiefs!"

"Oh, does baba want to go bakk to the livesjips? Being a valtrooper too hard for him? Would karing for litaal tjikks fit you better?"

"Shadow, what in the world are these idiots saying? Every other word out of their beaks makes me think we should go down there to help a pair of stroke victims. 'Natiefs'? 'Litaal'? 'Tjikks'? What the hell does that mean?"

"Pretty sure he's saying the 'natives' are troublesome, while she's referring to the liveships. That's where the civilian populace, or the closest thing they have to one, are raised. 'Tjikks' is probably just chicks, I think."

"Probably? You're supposed to know stuff, gramps. Ultimate Lifeform, remember?"

"Well I'm sorry that the Professor didn't elect to educate me on the intricacies of the Battle Bird dialect."

"Whatever, let's keep listening."

"-low blow, Aggie, and you know that. I'm just saying, there's nothing hier that I kan see that's worth our time, so why are we hier?"

"Look, if you reallie wanna know, I'll tell you. Just sweer to me you'll stop whinging, oukei?"

"Fine, I sweer."

"Majoor told me he heard Dokter say something to Kaptein aboot one of them spesiaal juweels."

"You mean those Chaos ones?"

"Ja. Tjanses are this hier tempel has got one in it."

They turn to each other in unison, the weight of what they've both heard quickly settling in. He shuts off the device and they both take out their earbuds. "Are my ears messed up or did she just say that?"

"No doubt about it. And with the amount of troops they've deployed, they must be confident in their belief."

"What do we do? Besides get the Emerald, I mean."

"Let's not jump the gun. We have no proof it's here. Just cause they think it is doesn't make it so."

"Can't you sense it?"

"My organic detection is less reliable than mechanical, which is in itself already rather unreliable. It also doesn't have the handy feature of being able to differentiate the energy of the Emeralds from any other source of Chaos energy; standing next to one of them or Knuckles feels the exact same. There's also the issue of me needing to be able to properly concentrate, somethin- grh!"

A fly comes in to confirm his statement before he can even finish it. This one manages to escape his wrath though, even if barely. "-something rather difficult in this environment, as you might've gathered by now."

"Alright, but we have to confirm this. If there's even a one percent chance of there being an Emerald here, we've gotta treat it like an absolute certainty."

"Agreed. But we're also here to do recon on the birds, figure out what they're up to. If we rush in only to find out it's false, then all we've done is made them aware of our presence."

"Okay, so just Chaos Control us inside the temple. I wasn't feeling too attached to breakfast anyways..."

"I wouldn't even know where to place us, and that's just in terms of spatial coordinates; avoiding detection by those within is a whole other issue."

"Can't you just wing it?"

"If you want us to end up crushed and suffocated under hundreds of kilos, if not tons, of stone and dirt, then sure, I can wing it."

"Are you serious?"

"No, I just thought I should finally get around to working on my humor. Of course I'm serious. Going underground or in buildings is a whole separate beast than the surface; I have to be able to actually imagine the place I'm teleporting to for any accuracy, and there's a lot less wiggle room here."

"Ughhh, alright. So what, sneaking in?"

"Unfortunately, yes. It's not looking to be an easy task, but it's our best option."

"What about just waiting? Eventually they'll either get in and bring out an Emerald or they won't. If they do, we can jump in and take it; if not we continue as normal. If nothing else, we can always move at nightfall."

"Of course you want to wait for darkness."

"First, don't hate on nocturnals. And second, yes, 'cause it's easier to stay hidden; you are aware of this, yes?"

Her suggestion is rather airtight, and would give them flexibility to achieve the best results. It's almost perfect. Almost. There's one small, or rather major, issue however: It'll mean having to spend even more time in this place. Unfortunately, that doesn't matter. He groans, but nods. It doesn't matter how much bugs and dirt bother him, he won't allow that to get in the way of his better judgement. "Alright, wait it is."

"Back to listening then?"

"Actually, I've got an idea." he says while scanning the grounds. He spots a sparrow some distance away. They're isolated, close enough to the jungle, and surrounded by enough structures to be obscured from general vision. "I'm gonna sneak my way over to that one over there. I'll snatch them up, and bring them about fifteen meters directly behind where we are right now."

"Good idea. That bird will be humming before long; let's just hope they've got some good info."

"Not just that. The rest will probably notice soon enough, and they'll likely arrange a search for their missing friend."

"And that'll divert manpower and attention away from the temple and out into the jungle, right?"

"Exactly."

"Way to go, gramps. I'm impressed. Seems like all the heat hasn't melted your brain yet."

"Thanks, I think. You can float around and gather some more intel." he says while handing her the device.

"Got it."

He stows away his pair of earbuds into his hammerspace. "It'll probably only take me several minutes or so to get this done, so don't stay gone for too long. And remember,-"

"Fifteen meters directly behind where we are right now."

They flash each other a nod and smile as they part ways. She flaps her wings and takes off into the canopy. It doesn't matter how many times he sees it, the sight is always something to behold. Now alone, he quickly crosses through the jungle to close the distance between him and this sparrow.

Once near enough, he goes prone to crawl towards the Battle Bird, and remains completely silent while doing so. The avian's eyes are looking off to the left, which means he's well outside their sight. Even better, the sparrow is smoking a cigar, and so will be easier to sneak up on. Moist dirt slides and slathers on his stomach, but he soldiers on. A gnat begins to buzz in his ear. The urge to swat it away instantaneously takes an incredible amount of control to fight, but he finds it. His approach, however, is brought at once to a halt by the arrival of a hawk, which freezes him in place. "Oi, Stiaan."

"Ja, Anuiel?"

He's not breathing anymore. To his dismay, multiple creatures with far too many legs, probably motivated by his newfound immobility, begin to crawl along his own while a millipede scuttles along the ground, mere centimeters from his nose. "You got another sigaar on you?"

"Ja, hier you go." says the sparrow as he reaches into a pocket and hands his comrade what he'd requested. "You need a light?"

The hawk nods as he takes and places it in his mouth. He leans forward while the sparrow sparks a lighter and brings it up to the cigar. "Good now?"

This situation brings greater discomfort than falling from orbit; the second time that is. Though that itself is only if that memory is even really his, or another Shadow's. "Ja, dankie. How's guard dutie going for you?"

"Other than the damn bugs and eerie noises? Just splendid."

"Stop whinging. Better fireflies than fire flying."

"Guess you're right…"

"Ja, I know I am. See you aroond."

"You too."

At the hawk's departure, he lets out a silent sigh of relief. As much as his body is telling him otherwise, he remains still for a few minutes to make sure that the sparrow, Stiaan as the hawk had called him, is alone. Once enough time has passed, he swats and slaps every single thing that's made itself far too comfortable on himself before jumping up to ambush Stiaan.

The sparrow has rather good reflexes, to his surprise, and notices him moving, but he's faster. He opens with a kick to the abdomen, which knocks the wind out of the avian and prevents any cries for help being made. Stiaan isn't finished though and, despite being unable to breathe, angles his rifle at him; once again, he's faster. His right hand shoots out to the barrel and yanks it closer, dragging the Stiaan off his feet, while his left comes to the sparrow's face and slams the avian down to the dirt. A few flecks splash onto his body, to his displeasure

He never let go of the rifle, and so he's still holding it. After a quick brushing off of his chest, he drops the avian's weapons and pulls out one of his own from his hammerspace—a taser—and fires it off. The barbed darts prick through the sparrow's feathers and cause him to tense and seize up. Successful, he stows the taser away before picking up the semi-conscious avian with one arm to sling him onto his shoulder. The weight catches him off guard. It's not heavy, that's not the right word, just unexpected. Like picking up a paper clip that weighs like an apple.

Not wishing to stick around a second longer than necessary, he speeds off to his preset destination.

The time to travel back where he had outlined to Rouge is next to nothing, though the same can't be said for her return. It's been around fifteen minutes and no sign of her still. Looking down at the sparrow who's slowly but surely regaining his senses, he decides he should get started. "Your name's 'Stiaan', right?"

The avian isn't in any condition to give a proper response yet, which is to be expected; he does look at him though, which is good. "Well, whatever the case, I need you to listen very carefully, unless you want to end up as food for the flies and worms, that is. You'll be able to speak in a few seconds. If you scream, I will knock you out. If it turns out that we get discovered, I will kill you. Understand?"

"The hell you will." says her voice from behind. He turns and looks up to see her floating down to the ground. "If this idiot gets us caught, he'll be wishing he was dead."

He smiles at the threat, or promise rather, as she hands him the device and her two earbuds, which he stows away in his hammerspace. "Hear anything important?"

"Not much, other than that there's definitely been several attacks by the natives. Oh, and apparently there's some freaky paintings and such inside the temple. Something about animals bigger than lorries."

"Hm, well they're probably long dead." he says before returning his attention back to Stiaan, who's still groaning. "Anyways, as you can see, my partner is not feeling as… charitable as I am. So, it's in your best interest to keep your beak shut unless we ask you something. Do what we say, and you'll live. Good news for you, we don't want any prisoners, so we'll even throw you back to your friends."

"Wait a minuut, you're that black hedgehog, right? The one who works for the humans, ja?"

"Look handsome, you're a superstar."

He groans but nods his head. "Correct. I hope that means you understand what I'm capable of, yes?"

Stiaan doesn't answer, but he takes that as a yes. "Good. Now, we have several questions that you're going to answer. First, what's your rank?"

"I'm… I'm just a valtrooper."

"Figures. How many of you are there?"

"We saw your commander along with over a hundred and twenty of you birds by the way, so don't think you can lowball us."

Stiaan's eyes dart between the two of them before settling on him. "There's-, there's oor three hundred of us."

"Alright." he says, shooting a glance at Rouge to make sure she lets this next question play out. "Now, why are you here?"

"What the Sjeol do you think? Same reason we go aniewhere: Loot, plunder or, if nothing else, some aktion; kan't have ourselves getting rustie, you know?"

He sighs and gives her a nod. She walks up to Stiaan and he tries to move back out of instinct, but is stopped by her boot in his stomach. As further reward for his false answer, she pulls a knife from somewhere on her body and brings it up to his neck. "Listen here, Battle Bastard, we're not stupid. That was a lie, and if you tell us another one, I'll turn you into a pillow."

Stiaan stares at her with wide eyes and an open mouth, though whether he's more scared or confused is a mystery to him. It's an odd threat, to say the least. "Got it?"

The sparrow nods, and he's sure that if he could see her face, there'd be a smile on it. "Good. Now, one more time, like my friend asked you so nicely: Why are you here?"

"I don't know! I sweer, I sweer!"

"Shut up." she says.

"Please, pitie, have pitie. I'm telling you the trooth. I don't know."

"Shut up!"

"Red," he says, and she looks back at him. "ease off."

She holds eye contact for a moment longer than is necessary before she nods and stands up, though doesn't sheath the knife away. Stiaan looks at him with grateful eyes, and he resumes questioning in order to take advantage of that. "How long have you been here?"

"Remember what I said about you and lies."

"Our kompanie was deployed to this hier tempel aboot a week ago."

"Natives: We've heard them mentioned. What about them?"

"There were a lot of them in the kompleks, so we had to drive them uit. They put up a fight, as mutj as you kan with spears and bows."

"How many?"

"At the tempel or in generaal?"

"Both."

"I don't have an exakt number, but both must be a lot. Tempel probably had aboot a thousand when we kleared them uit. The kompleks wasn't their home, just some holie site they maintain. But in totaal, there must be at something like twetntie thousand, but that's inkluding all the young, elders, and the like. They've been attakking us everie day, but they don't akomplisj mutj at all."

"Do you know where they are?"

"They live in several nearbie villages. We think most of them are to the sooth, east, and west. I oorheard someone mention that they think the biggest ones are the western."

"I don't suppose they speak English?"

"Are you kidding? Forget aboot Englisj, these freeking savages don't speek any taal I've ever heard, and I've heard a lot."

"I'll bet you have…" she says, the venom audible even to him. It's justifiable, of course, but he doesn't want to get hung up on that.

"When was the last attack?"

"Yesterday. They kome at the same time, always. Hold on a minuut, what time is it?"

"Red?"

She nods and pulls out a handheld device. A small part of him wonders where she keeps everything. "Hm, 11:07."

"Oh, thank Anu."

"What is it?'

"They usuallie attakk at aroond noon. We've got aboot an hour."

Before either of them can respond to that, swooshing noises sound in the distance. The three turn in unison to see the lights of fire breaking through the trees. Not one, but several. "STIAAN! WHERE ARE YOU?"

It seems that the sparrow's comrades have caught onto his disappearance. They both look at him. "If you call out, we'll kill you as well as all your friends."

"Y-you're bluffing."

She steps back to let him take the lead. He walks up to Stiaan and stares the sparrow down. "Try us."

He looks at both of them, and in the end seems to decide it's not worth putting that to the test. "STIAAN, ANSWER! I SWEER, IF ANY OF YOU FOKKEN SAVAGES HAVE LAID A HAND ON-"

The shouting Battle Bird is cut off by the sounds of gunfire, with explosions and yells following in swift succession. The three of them listen in silent shock, unsure of how to respond. "What? It's not even noon yet."

The sounds of battle only grow, and a cry is heard out amidst it all. "AANVAL! AANVAL! AANVAL!"

Stiaan now looks even more confused than they are. "Aanval? How kould it be an aanval?"

"What the hell does 'aanval' mean?"

"It-it, it means attakk."

"Why the different word?"

"Bekause it's not exaktlie the same. It's like… like big versus gigantik, you know?"

"The previous assaults, you said they came around noon?"

"Ja."

"What were they like?"

"Not big. Prettie skattered, too."

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking, handsome?"

"Yeah."

"What are you two talking aboot?"

They turn to look at Stiaan. "The previous assaults by the natives were probably just probing attacks to get a sense of your strength. It seems this is the real assault."

"But why so earlie?"

"Besides your friends torching the jungle looking for you? Probably because they wanted to catch you guys off guard. Seems like it might've worked if not for us…"

"Hah! No way in Sjeol these savages can beat a whole kompanie!"

"You better hope so, or you're definitely dead." she says while pulling out a gun. The gesture captures him off guard, and he raises a hand in protest alongside the avian.

"Red!"

"Wait, don't-" is all Stiaan gets before she pulls the trigger. Instead of a laser or bullet coming out the barrel, a dart does. It embeds itself in the sparrow's arm, puncturing through the skin. "AHHHH!"

The sparrow's scream is probably not even audible to his comrades right now. Even if it is, there's nothing to distinguish it from any one of them screaming, and so he relaxes. She gives him a look that, if he has to guess, says 'Happy?'. "C'mon, handsome."

He nods and brings out his taser once more to give Stiaan a shock. Either the avians will win and they'll find Stiaan's unconscious body, or they won't. Whatever happens as a result of the latter, he decides, is out of his hands. Once the dart imparts the whole of its tranquilizing agent, it'll activate a chemical reaction to rapidly and safely dissolve itself, disappearing totally. The sparrow can tell his friends about how the Ultimate Lifeform ambushed and interrogated him, but the odds of anyone believing him without any proof are none.

The two quickly make their way back to their vantage point, and the chaos engulfing the temple complex as well as the surrounding jungle is a sight to behold. Arrows and darts fly from the darkness and Mobians dressed in manners alien to him follow shortly, while from the stone buildings and streets, lasers, explosions, and jets of flame shoot out back into that darkness. Screams and shouts whose comprehensibility ranges from difficult to impossible sound in a host of directions. While he can't get an exact count for the numbers of natives involved, he can get a vague sense, and it's staggering. There must be several thousand of them, and it seems they're closer to 10,000 than not.

Despite the overwhelming odds, around twenty-five to one at his best estimate, the avians hold strong. They're a deceptive bunch that's for sure. They appear as ragtag and mercenary as one could get and are seen by pretty much everyone as a roving, marauding band of thieves and murderers who only live for self-interest. While most of what's said might be true, not all of it is. Though their discipline outside of combat leaves a lot to be desired from what he can tell, their cohesion and dedication during it puts the finest units of G.U.N. to shame.

It's likely from their environment. Everyone being forced to live together means that they know each other better than most children know their own parents, and their isolationist nature means that they've no one else but themselves to depend on. It's a damn shame to think of how they behave compared to all the good they could do instead. How far would Robotnik have gotten or lasted had the Armada aligned itself against him? It's the same question he's asked himself many times. "At least they didn't almost destroy the entire world before…"

They make their way down the slope and closer to the temple. Soon enough, they're in the burned out ring. The battle rages still, and native corpses are starting to pile up, but their assault is as relentless as these damn bugs. Out the corner of his eye, he catches sight of the construct unleashing a devastating hail of fire which tears through the jungle as well as the avian's enemy. Nature and her natives wither before the incredible power of the new world. Now at the base of the temple, she gives him the look, and he sighs. He holds out his arms and she jumps into them. He speeds up the steps of the temple in quick fashion and sets her down once at the top, with her giggling the whole time. "Thanks, handsome."

"Yeah, yeah…"

The entrance to the temple beckons, and he begins to feel a sensation. "Alright, well it seems there's definitely something in here."

They enter through the stone doorway, vines clinging to the frame. "You sense the Emerald?"

"Not sure if it's that, it's pretty weak, but definitely something."

The halls and walls of the temple might have once been a magnificent sight to behold, displaying the wealth and grandeur of the civilization that once ruled this strip of the world. Once. Now they are at best a sobering reminder of time, and at worst an array of eroded stone, dirty artifacts, and incomprehensible characters and logograms. He catches sight of one of those paintings she mentioned and, as she said, it depicts a crowd of Mobians standing before snakes who tower over them. It looks like the Mobians are holding several of their fellows up in their arms above, like when people crowd surf. From what he can tell, it appears like they're being offered to the snakes. "Sacrifices?" he thinks, but pushes the thought away. Whatever the case, it's come and gone long before anyone who's still around was alive; save for Mogul that is, and maybe Tikal based on what Sonic, Tails, and Knuckles had told him. "Wait, would Chaos count as a person? What about Naugus?"

Signs of the Battle Bird's presence inside here can be seen by haphazardly placed personal effects, disassembled weapons, equipment, food, cigars, and other such things. It seems some of them have even taken to vandalizing the temple. Graffiti, crude inscriptions, and other such markings that exist in total divergence to their environment are spread throughout. Some are simple—'Dawie was hier'—others speak to relationships—'Alake and Elspeth'—and some are just downright juvenile: Several avian stick-figures with similarly detailed rifles in hand shoot hastily carved projectiles at the original depictions of the snakes from behind. If he was an archaeologist, a historian, or just someone who cared about the sanctity of the past, he might've been offended. But he isn't. "Today and tomorrow is all that matters."

He doubts she cares much either; in fact, he's certain she's probably carried out her own fair amount of desecration in the past. Whatever the case, they come to a stop: A green force field blocks their way. Halls and stairs have brought them deep underground, but the sounds of the battle can still be heard even this far down. Now that they've stopped moving, he realizes that the bugs have apparently ceased to follow him, and smiles. She is not as pleased. "Great, now I see why they've been here for a week."

"Not an issue, take my hand."

She does as he asks, though with a frown on her face. "Chaos… Control!"

And in an instant they're on the other side of it. He's ready to keep moving, but she requires a second to regain her bearings. Teleportation doesn't sit well with most people, it seems. "You good?"

"Might need a bag, but yeah." she says while stepping forward. Her foot presses down on a section of the floor and it gives way. Before the panels in the walls can open, he grabs and pulls her back. It's good that he's here and not Omega, or else Team Dark's favorite bat would be dealing with two spears, one in her intestines and the other in her head. "Holy shit!"

The spears retract back as quick as they came. "You good?"

"Yeah, yeah, thanks."

Their speed and force is impressive considering how dated this all is. He's sure Hope would be a little curious regarding their construction. And Tails, the kid would probably be so engrossed that he'd ask to put the whole mission on pause to disassemble the mechanisms, if their joint missions to those ruins in Southern Yurashia is anything to go by anyhow.

That trap confirms what the field already hinted at: They're entering into the unexplored depths of the temple. So far, they've come across nothing of the sort. Any and all dangers present in their path so far have been previously discovered and removed by the Battle Birds, it seems. Now, they'll have to proceed with caution. The sensation continues to grow. "We're getting closer."

"Good to hear..." she grumbles before flapping her wings and floating off the ground. She won't be setting off any more pressure plates if she can help it. Without a word, they agree to let her continue taking point. Avoiding traps by floating is superior to him figuring out a safe path ahead and hoping she can recreate it; it helps that she's able to see better than him in this darkness. Thankfully it's daytime, and so the slits in the ceiling that likely extend out to the exterior continue to supply some limited light.

They continue until they come before a branching pathway. This isn't the first one they've encountered, but it is the first since they passed the force field. It isn't quite clear which way they should head down; all the previous ones had been already scoped out by the avians and had signs and markings to point the way. In truth, he's thankful that they were here first and had gotten so far, or else it'd take the two of them much longer to get to the bottom of all this. On the other hand, the reason they're in a bit of a rush is because the avians are here. "Any ideas?"

"I've got one."

"I'm listening."

"Hah! Funny you should say that, again. My answer is kinda like my last one. Hand me the eavesdropper."

"That's-"

"Shut it."

He hands her the device and a pair of earbuds. "Alright, here."

"Thank you. Now, find a couple rocks or anything else you can throw really far that'll make noise when it lands."

Now the pieces start to come together. "Echolocation?"

"Yup. Bolstered by this baby here plus all the sensory information and I should be able to get a general idea of which leads deeper."

"Deeper?"

"You got a better indicator for which way we should head?"

"Point taken."

Rocks and stones in a place like this aren't a rarity, and a cursory search is quick to produce a good deal. Now with enough to fill both hands, he turns to her. "Which one?"

"Gotta coin to flip?"

"Rouge."

"Gosh, fine. Forgive a girl for trying to lighten the mood after she almost got skewered. Left."

With a fling of his arm, a handful of rocks fly down the hall at breakneck speed. Her eyes shut as she aims the device down the corridor. He wonders what it must look like to reconstruct the layout mentally from the sonic data. He supposes she wonders what it must be like to teleport without losing lunch. Her ears twitch rapidly to sounds he hears a second or two after she does, and barely at that. It's cute. He's glad she's no telepath; what havoc she would wreak on him if she had that power, not to mention the world. In a playful way, of course.

"Okay, now the right." she says as she swivels to point down that way. He flings his other handful of rocks down the hall, awaiting her analysis and answer. Now that they aren't even moving forward, he can take in how quiet it really is; even the battle above is away from his ears. He wonders what the body count is, and if it's still rising. He knows the answer to the second question: "Yes."

Despite the obvious macabre nature of it all, he feels no concern for the natives' struggle or any motivation to help them. Getting past the fact that he doesn't know anything about them at all, the fact that they're not humans or at least Mobians he's familiar with isn't helping; neither is their apparent reverence for this temple, with its depiction of sacrificial rituals. For all he knows, they could not only glorify the past, they might have even been mimicking it before the avians showed up, at least as best they could.

He's heard the stories: Gory ceremonies involving designated lambs, figuratively speaking for the most part, brought to altars and at the tops of high places, willing or not; some even mention that children watch eagerly, or watched depending on the timeframe involved, and play with a piece of the deceased, most often the head. It's probably all bunk, and he's not one for melodramatic myths and tales spun by midwives and travelers. Still, the thought is there. "Well, what's the verdict?"

"Hm… left."

She hands him the device along with the earbuds and he stows them away as before. They head down the corridor, and continue till they come to a massive cavern clearing. Seems they've stumbled across a sizable cave system. Before them is a massive chasm whose bottom lies so far below he doesn't want to think about it. Across the gap is a stone floor that leads further in. There must've been a bridge connecting the two ends here, once. Now, no terrestrial path exists. "Hope you've been staying in the gym."

She looks at him and actually chuckles. "Looks like there's hope for you yet."

"A career in comedy?"

"Don't push it."

He smiles and actually chuckles himself. "I'm serious though. You're gonna have to carry me over."

"I know. Even the Ultimate Lifeform's powers need some beauty sleep."

He groans at her description of his abilities, most of all because it's not inaccurate at its core. "May I have the hand of this fair gentleman?" she says as she extends her own out. He grabs hold of it, glove gripping glove.

"If you drop me, I'll kill you."

"I love you too, handsome."

Her wings flap with power only Chaos can grant them and she takes to the air. The flight across the chasm is without issue; she's flown while holding him as well as Omega before, though he knows that was tougher on her than she let on. Soon enough, they set foot on the opposite end and let go of each other's hands before continuing their descent.

Traps continue to be an ever-present issue, and paintings, inscriptions, and murals continue to adorn walls. Portrayals of massive snakes become more and more common as they get deeper and deeper, while sunlight gets more and more rare. Eventually, he retrieves a flashlight from his hammerspace and turns it on. "Was wondering how long it'd take for you to admit defeat."

"There's no defeat in admitting you require assistance."

"Sounds like something losers say."

"I'm sure you're an expert in that field."

She stops flying forward and turns around at him, a mix of surprise and amusement on her face. "Damn, wasn't expecting that one. Is it the temple, jungle, or energy that's giving you this streak?"

"Just keep moving..."

She nods with a smile and returns her attention back to their front as they continue their advance. Now, the sensation is all around him. The air pulses with vigor and the world begins to visibly slow down just a bit as Chaos energy fills his cells and heightens his perception. "It's here. Has to be."

"Glad to know this wasn't for nothing."

After some more walking, a gray light shines through a doorway at the end of the hall. They close the distance in short order. As they enter it, a grand chamber reveals itself. The idea of a room this big, this far down, and this old is a threefold triumph; it's enough to make even his mouth hang. Brightness abounds in this room thanks to sconces on the wall which illuminate the vast space, though not with flames of any sort. Just light, gray to be specific. Towering pillars ascend to a ceiling so high it's somewhat dark from what he can see down here.

A staggering number of statues, monuments, platforms, reliefs, and many more things he's not quite sure of litter the breadth of this chamber; the appearance of a mammoth flanked by what he assumes are Ixis wizards shows that Mogul and his Order were indeed here at one point. It's probably folly to try and figure out what story is being told by all this, but curiosity is something even he falls prey to. One hypothesis in mind is that Mogul came here and tamed the creatures displayed, winning the love and acclaim of those stuck under them. Another is that the mammoth in fact led to their creation, using them as instruments of his power and authority. Both could be true, and so could neither.

The truth of the matter is that he'll likely never find out. There's quite a few things like that, but that's okay. At the center of it all lies an altar to rival the size of the Master Emerald's on Angel Island, albeit far less refurbished. Atop it sits a Chaos Emerald. "Looks like we've found Ash Prism."

The Emerald shines with the same light as that of the sconces, and he's positive that the latter are being powered by the former. Their approach is brought to a halt by rumbles and the sound of rock and stone being pushed aside. The first thought to come to mind is the battle above, but that's crazy. There's no way that a fight between them could escalate to being felt down here, unless their airship has arrived and is pummeling Mobius with a barrage of concentrated firepower to put a whole army to shame. "It can't be…"

As it turns out, it isn't. The source of the rumbles and sounds slithers into view before erecting itself: A basilisk. The paintings and descriptions do not do it justice. Bigger than a lorry is an understatement worthy of some award. "Guess they're not long dead after all…"

"I don't suppose you know this one on a first-name basis, gramps?"

"No. You get the Emerald, I'll get acquainted with our friend over here."

"All yours!" she says as she zips off into the air. The head of the beast turns with her but he's going to get its attention.

"Chaos… Spear!"

A golden javelin forms above his open palm, crackling with dynamism. A fling of his arm propels it forth and the projectile lances through the air at the basilisk. The snake is quick to move its head out of the pathway, and the spear strikes in and through the scales of its body instead. A beastly howl erupts from its maw and in an instant its eyes stare him down. Two slit pupils communicate clear the utter hostility now directed at him.

Its mouth, still open, widens to reveal fangs. From the pit spit out blobs the size of him at him with speed that'd be fatal for someone slower. He is not someone slower. A kick off the stone and he's a couple meters to the right. Balls of venom splash against the shattered and cracked ground, and he's on the behemoth before the last droplets can hit the floor.

Being this close to an Emerald grants him a strength and speed that only further divides him from the rest of the world. Only mere seconds have passed and he's ready to lob another javelin at the beast. "Chaos… Spear!"

Scales and flesh give way to the scorching force of the spear, but the creature makes sure its head is saved from being pierced. He moves to take advantage of its pained wailing. "Chaos… Control!" and he's up by its face. A strong kick to its nose sends the basilisk reeling as he falls back down to the ground. Kicks and punches strike along the length of its body.

His assault is repeatedly interrupted by a lunge of the snake's head. Fangs the size of a human slice through the air where he was a mere instant ago again and again. It should've been expected, but the basilisk's strength, speed, and resilience is far beyond what it should be. There's no doubt about it: It's been absorbing the energy of the Emerald. For how long is anyone's guess.

The light from the scones shifts and begins to slowly dim. He turns to see Rouge has retrieved the gray crystal. Unfortunately, the basilisk lies between him and her. Their eyes meet. "Shadow, go high!"

He jumps from the ground, boosted by his jet boots, and soars right into the trajectory of her throw. With the Emerald in hand, the fight is over. "Chaos… Control!"

His elevation changes instantly, from being slightly below the beast's head to being above, as well as right behind, it. In the perfect position, he raises his hand. "Chaos… Spear!"

This one is double the size of the previous two, and a fling sends it straight into the skull of the basilisk. Energy drills through scale, flesh, and bone. He can't see the snake's eyes, but he's confident that a look at them would reveal the animated animus previously present is gone.

He falls to the floor and lands with a light thud. The beast does the same in delayed fashion, though nowhere near as gracefully. The ground of the entire room rumbles underneath the force and weight of the collision, but soon settles to stillness as the air does to silence. The Emerald radiates and pulses with power in his hand. Her footsteps sound behind him, but he doesn't bother to turn. "Snake kebab…"

She walks in front of him and then turns around. "What the hell, I'd give it a shot."

"I'm sure Station Square will have a vendor accommodating that."

"Let's hope so. Now, let's get the hell out of here. Trek back through the jungle won't suck as much for you as the one here, but it'll still suck I think."

"On that, we agree."