"A twenty two year old unidentified gang member turned Mogulian cultist went berserk last night, opening fire with a twelve gauge shotgun in a crowded downtown restaurant. Eleven mobians are reported as dead at this time, including three children. The suspect made no attempt to flee the scene, and was gunned down when police arrived. One officer is reported wounded, none killed."

"Royal sources have confirmed that military arms inspectors have been expelled from Mercian territory for the second time in as many months. This action coincides with a breakdown in negotiations between the rebellious province and Mobotropolis over border and trade disputes, as well as the lingering issue of Disarmament. Against the wishes of the King, Mercia has refused to disband its military infrastructure, reduce its standing army, and integrate what remains into the Mobian Armed Forces. Windfall's representative, the Earl de' Forrester, has previously indicated that Mercia will never approve any Decree that leaves it 'unable to defend itself from aggression.'"

"A proposed law limiting medical experimentation on animals is expected to be delayed, but still ratified, pending an audience with the King and the Interior Ministry. Animal rights activists have been pushing for the acceptance of this bill since before the end of the war. In recent months, they have taken part in mass demonstrations, which have grown increasingly aggressive in scope, though smaller in scale. A spokesman for the Interior Ministry had this to say…"


The nurse smiled pleasantly, and loaded up the appropriate information on her computer. In front of her desk, the remaining Chaotix, plus Julie-Su, waited eagerly for news of their friend and leader. Of the group, Charmy was the only absence, since the return of Mighty just days earlier. He had been off island for several months, investigating a string of murders he had believed to be the work of a dragon, or dragons. He had slowly been making his way back when he'd heard of the war, and who had begun it.

Espio watched his friend carefully. Mighty had been more than upset, more than angry, at Charmy, when he had walked into the Chaotix Office – he had been furious. It was understandable. He had been the one to find the bee, to vouch for him and bring him into the Chaotix. Espio remembered well how proud and happy they had been for their young friend when he had returned home, and accepted his responsibilities to the Bee Realm. He had even had a fiancée, and there had been much joking about who he would ask to be best man for the inevitable wedding, and much ribbing in that Charmy would hook up before Knuckles or Vector did.

Espio had often privately wondered what had transpired to force Charmy into this turn of events. He was less eager to assign blame to the bee than the others. By nature, he was more level headed then Vector, and more want to think things through than Mighty. He had researched the organization of the Quaz Xialjyet and the Bee Realm as much as he could since the first attack, and he couldn't help but wonder if the other Princes had pressured Charmy into joining them. From what he could tell, Charmy did not lead the Xialjyet itself: this Kenichi character did.

Unfortunately, there was still so little available information.

Not so much because it was being restricted from public review, but because the Hives were secretive and isolationist. Yet, however nice it was to think that Charmy was not a willing belligerent in this war, he could not discount that perhaps the bee was doing what he was out of pure self interest, and out of concern for the future of his people. Espio, too, had worried about the future of the chameleons of Angel Island. Aside from a small population in Downunda, most made Angel Island their home.

They, too, were a secretive and isolationist people who preferred not to attract attention. As a result, they were not as integrated into the Echidnapolis Sphere as Vector's breed was. Chameleons were under-represented in all forms of business, and while they were eligible for public education, they young members of his breed rarely attended. Instead, they lived in self contained rural areas, growing poorer while the rest of the Island grew wealthier.

Could the Hives have had a similar dilemma? Could Charmy have been faced with the possibility of either failing his people or betraying his friends? Or, as so many said, had Charmy simply been a spy the whole time? Had he always planned to attack Echidnapolis? Was he truly a power mad dictator, out for his own aggrandizement?

"The Guardian has made an astounding recovery, according to Doctor Lee. It says he's well enough to see visitors. Let me just page you in…"

"Thank you, ma'am." As usual, Vector was polite to ladies (minus Julie-Su). Espio would have preferred if he was polite to everyone, but such was the nature of wishful thinking.

A few seconds later, the nurse gave then the go ahead and the group took an elevator up to the fourth floor of the hospital where the Guardian had been taken to for treatment. His status was not public knowledge, but the Chaotix had been informed because of their close association with him. The details, however, were something no one seemed to have.

Remington had been kind enough to provide security for the fourth floor in general, and around Knuckles' room in particular. Sadly, there were just too many villainous types who still harbored the Guardian ill will. Even the Dark Legion, supposedly reformed as it was, was no friend of Knuckles. Or at least Espio didn't think so, though there seemed to be some sort of understanding now between the last Guardian and his great uncle Dimitri.

The two guards on duty allowed them in, and they saw Knuckles sitting on his hospital bed, facing the window that looked out over Echidnapolis. There were newspapers strewn about, along with several magazines and a handful of half open books. Knuckles himself had his arms bandaged, and white gloves on, but seemed to be intact. This was both a surprise and a blessing, since they had been told that, when he was found he had been half dead.

How had even Knuckles healed so quickly?

Their old friend turned slightly to look behind him, and greeted them with a casual smile. "Hey, guys."

"You're ok," Julie said, before any of them could react. Then, when the relief at seeing him in one piece passed, she added, "You really had us worried, you know."

She sat a short distance away on the bed, and the male members of Chaotix came closer, but didn't immediately intrude between them. Espio eventually hung back to give them all room. Vector, of course, opened up with a boisterous laugh, and a comment about how Knuckles' head was hard enough to survive an extinction level event, and Mighty quickly apologized for not being around. He then went about explaining what he was up to, and Knuckles just nodded in understanding, agreeing that tracking down this dragon had been the right thing to do at the time.

And then, Vector asked him about Tikal.

"Tikal is dead," he replied, and went back to looking out the window. "Really dead. The Master Emerald is in the hands of… a new enemy. Haven had been destroyed, totally. My father, my grandfathers; they are all dead as well."

He had said it so… casually. So effortlessly.

"Knuckles, I'm so sorry…" Julie reached over, and rested her hand on his shoulder. "Is there anything…?"

"Someone took the Master Emerald?" Espio immediately centered on the one problem in that list they could actually solve. "Was it Mogul? Dimitri?"

Those were really the only two possibilities, since no one else knew where Haven was. Knuckles didn't respond at first, and Espio privately wondered if he had been too abrupt in his questioning. However, from his body language, from his posture, Espio could tell that his friend wasn't in grief over the losses in Haven. If anything, he seemed supernaturally calm after a situation that would traumatize so many.

"Espio!" Julie snapped, more obviously annoyed he had gone right to business, rather than try and talk about Knuckles' losses. Julie understood Knuckles a lot of the time, but she didn't here. Even if he was in pain, he wouldn't have wanted to talk about it, or be pitied for it.

Knuckles made a curt laugh, as much a grunt as anything.

"Mogul… he's dead too. So no: he doesn't have it. And neither does Dimitri."

"Mogul is dead?" Vector asked, a little incredulous. "Are you sure? He's supposed to be immortal."

"What happened back there, anyway?" Mighty added in. "The Guardians, The Emerald, Tikal, Mogul…?"

He laughed again, a strange reaction, considering what had happened to the Master Emerald, if nothing else. Knuckles had always been protective of it to the point of paranoid obsession. Now it was gone, and he was laughing cheerily about it?

"I'm not too worried about that right now," Knuckles admitted, and again gave them an effortless smile. "You could say… what I need of the Master Emerald, I have within me already."

That was an odd statement. Espio wasn't sure what he had meant by it, and from the looks on the others, they weren't sure either. Knuckles' powers were tied to the Master Emerald intimately. Did this mean that he had absorbed the Master Emerald's power, leaving a shell behind for this new enemy to take? It seemed plausible, in a way, and it would help explain the echidna Guardian's fast recovery rate.

"So…" Espio ventured. "You don't want to go looking for it?"

Knuckles waved his hand in an up and down dismissing gesture. "Nah! Don't worry about it." His expression darkened. "After all, there are other matters to attend to, right here and now."

"What do you mean?" Mighty asked, taking a seat in a nearby chair turning it around so he could cross his arms over the headrest.

"When I first heard about all this – about the war that is – I was very upset. Very angry," Knuckles ran his hand over a newspaper with a headline referring to the new southern front in the war. "However, there is another aspect I have come to see as equally important. I'm talking, of course, about how we have been betrayed by one of our own."

"Yeah…" Mighty agreed, his face set in a dark frown.

"My feelings are that if a people, like these Xialjyet, want war… then we should give them one. This is no different than any other fight we have had over the years. We will beat the enemy because it is what we do, what we must do. What can not be forgiven, however, is betrayal."

"Charmy is one of us, that will never change. And yet, he is also our enemy. This makes him our responsibility," Knuckles slowly crushed the paper in his hand, his tone of voice growing stormier. "I will not forgive him. We should not forgive him. I trust you all agree?"

Mighty did, and nodded. "That's how I feel, too."

Vector wasn't as quick, and he took up a thoughtful pose. "I suppose."

Julie, like Espio, kept silent.

"What do you propose we do?" Espio finally asked.

"We must all do what we can, not simply to defeat these Xialjyet, but also to settle our personal account with Charmy. First, Espio, since you asked…" Knuckles crumpled up the paper and tossed it into a waste bin. "I want you to be my trash man. I want you to assassinate Charmy Bee."

Julie made a small gasp, but with the tension in the atmosphere, no one seemed to notice. Rather, they all seemed to be looking at their resident spy and stealth master. Espio didn't like the feeling he was getting, about this order, or about the reception it was getting.

"You want me to be an assassin?" He asked, only then realizing how stupid a question it was.

"You're the most qualified," Knuckles replied, casually.

"I didn't hone my skills to be an assassin," Espio objected, but kept his tone low and quiet. "I don't think this is the approach we should take. If we can talk to Charmy, come to some sort of…"

"Espio," Knuckles interrupted, raising his voice just a little. "If you do not use your abilities to their utmost, then you are wasting them, and you will never reach your potential. Now. Will you please do as I have asked?"

"I… I appreciate the faith you have in my abilities. However, I must follow the code of honor that gives me pride in my skills. Without that pride, I would be nothing more than a killing machine, devoid of a soul. That is what I think." He lowered his head, feeling as if he had let them all down. "I'm sorry."

"How disappointing," was all Knuckles said on that subject, and he went back to looking out the window. "Perhaps, later, you will come to your senses. The rest of you: will you come with me; will you help me seek justice?"

"I'm in!" Mighty shook a fist, eager to jump into a fight he felt was justified.

"I'll do what I can," Vector also relented. "We've gotta stick together after all, right?"

"I… I guess I'll come, too." It took a few seconds, but Julie also gave in, sounding mre placid than Espio was used to. He knew they had strong feeling for each other, knew Julie loved Knuckles, and knew there were precious few people she could trust, much less love, in her life. She would follow him, despite everything. In spite of everything.

"Sorry," Espio offered, again. There had always been a certain charisma to Knuckles, despite his often abrasive attitude and his obsession with duty, and that charisma had drawn others to him. Made them loyal to him. He hadn't been raised to be a leader (quite the opposite in fact), but in the end, he had become one.

"It's quite alright, Espio," Knuckles said, and got up off the bed. He and the others silently walked past, but before they were gone, Knuckles added, over his shoulder. "I know, in time, you'll seek me out. And I'll be waiting."

"See ya later, man," Vector patted his friend on the back. "No big, ok?"

Mighty gave him an ambivalent look, which almost seemed to imply he thought Espio was afraid to try and fight Charmy and the Xialjyet. And then, he too was out of sight, following Knuckles. Julie-Su was the last, and to his surprise she hugged him. Espio, unused to personal contact, stiffened a bit at first, and she only tightened the embrace.

"You made the right choice," she whispered to him. "Good bye."

And just like that, she let go, and ran after the others.

Espio stood alone in the room and wondered, sadly, if she was right.


"…hundred and seventeen pounds of pure Ginger were recovered, along with a small amount of Dust, Black Ginger, Refined Cocoa, and Cannabis sativa Hashish. Nineteen individuals have been arrested, and face a variety of charges, from purposeful endangerment, and smuggling contraband, to possession with the intention of trafficking. The Ministry for the Prevention of Vice and Deviancy has also expressed an interest in charging the offenders with Moral Aberrancy and Misconduct."

"The Kingdom of Acorn came to loggerheads with the Terran Protectorate again today over ownership of the crashed Nor'easter, with spokesmen on both sides accusing the other of sabotage, and the theft of the Chaos Emerald that powered the mighty warship. When, last week, joint human and mobian engineers announced that sufficient power could be restored to the ship to get it airborne in three months, pressure increased on both sides to find a solution to who would ultimately crew the vessel. Both parties have hinted that they would destroy the ship before letting the other assume control over it."

"Fighting broke out overnight yesterday between rival factions on the Mercian-Trans-Charon border. Initial reports indicate that the Royal Air Force launched a reprisal early this morning, hitting a guerilla base on the Mercian side of the Tiger River killing at least forty six soldiers and twenty two civilians. The Duchy of Mercia followed up today with an official protest from Grand Duke Windsor Windfall. This comes just two weeks after Mercia announced that it was continuing with wartime conscription, in defiance of King Acorn's ultimatum to disarm."


Sally took one last look at herself in the mirror, and left for her Court appearance. Replacing her usual vest, she was instead wearing a violet and black gown that flowed down to the floor. Sally had never had to endure anything quite like the experience of putting it on. Even with two attendants, it had taken over twenty minutes to put on to the satisfaction of the matron her mother had assigned to her.

Twice before, in Court, she had to undergo the arduous process of preparation to adhere to her father's new dress codes for royal audiences. It wasn't that she didn't think the gown itself was beautiful, because it was, with crisscrossing patterns of golden lace over the wine colored layer, and a silver weave to the black layer on top of that, which gave it an ethereal quality. It clung tightly to her to hold itself in place and keep from slipping, since it was designed to leave her shoulders bare. She had been told it was naturally the finest of its kind to be had, perfect for the Crown Princess. So, despite her initial discomfort, it wasn't that she disliked it.

She simply wished it wasn't such a waste of time to put on.

She also wished, less vocally, that the Court would spend less time preening and trying to rekindle the days of Melchoir the Mighty (who had commanded that elaborate clothes were to be worn at Court as part of his decision to modernize mobian society), and more time dealing with the social problems facing the Kingdom. Reform was badly needed, in her opinion. Not that her opinion seemed to count for much with her father anymore, despite her efforts to gain his approval. If anything, her views had made him even less flexible than before in his approaches to governance.

Leaving the dressing room, her two assigned guards for the evening saluted primly. Both were female.

"This way, ma'am."

Sally let them lead her down familiar paths in the Grand Palace. This section of it was all essentially complete, and breathtaking in its extravagance. Despite coming out of a war, labor had been extremely cheap, even highly skilled labor. Ironically, if anything, the kingdom had left the war materially richer than he had begun it. Robotnick had been horribly efficient at excavating veins of resources and stockpiling them. The royal coffers were brimming with salvaged gold, confiscated and expropriated lands, and near state-run industries that had been handed out to political favorites.

It was little surprise how the more distant parts of the Kingdom resented having their wealth stripped to rebuild Mobotropolis, to fill yet more rooms with gold and crystal, train ever more soldiers and pay for their pensions. Worst of all, in her opinion, was that large tracts of the country were once more being handed out to those titled nobles who gained Royal favor (usually through bribes). While this had always been the economic system of much of the Kingdom, a holdover from feudal days, it was mind boggling some of the estates that were being accumulated. Some fiefs were actually thousands of square kilometers in size.

Of course, when she had pointed out that policy was reducing many small land owners into serfs, and cutting the legs out under the minor nobility who formed the basis of commerce, industry, and who even filled out most of lesser command roles in the military, she had been all but shouted down. The economy was doing fine, she had been told. Growth was twelve percent across the board. What was there to worry about? Every month, the treasury grew fatter and fatter.

It wasn't sustainable.

When her father had told her to briefly intern and learn from his Ministers, she had discussed the problem with Preston Dunn, the Minister of Finance, who had only confirmed her own conclusions. However, he had told her that currying favor and building up a power base were also important, and that reform could come later. Dunn had disliked haste, and while he had not agreed with what was being done, he had not resigned either. She could see that he was trying to be a moderating influence on the Court, but she didn't believe he would be very successful in his approach.

Her father should have begun reforms right from the get go, as soon as the Eggman Empire had been destroyed. Instead, he had wasted the opportunity in trying to recreate the past, and assure his own power. It wasn't responsible. It wasn't right. She only hoped there was a Kingdom left to inherit when her time came to sit on the Golden Throne, because she loved both the people and the Kingdom, and she had always believed that they were not mutually exclusive concerns.

She saw Sonic, with his two male escorts, and gave him a little wave in greeting.

"You look pretty dolled up there, Sal," he said with a sure smile.

"Speak for yourself," she replied, and beamed at how nice he looked. Sonic wasn't one for hygiene, sadly (it didn't help that he was a bit of a hydrophobe), but for Court appearances he had been forced to wash his quills and arrange them. As usual, he had picked out shades of blue to wear: lighter for the mandatory silk shirt, darker for the jacket over it. He seemed a bit uncomfortable, which was to be expected, given that he (like many males) had been used to going around wearing nothing more than shoes and gloves.

Which made his new ones stand out.

"They look…" she was about to finish when he cut her off.

"Like Shadow's gloves. I know. And I don't like it," Sonic grumbled, one hand over the other's wrist. The gloves themselves were the usual white, but each had a thin golden cord wrapped around the wrist like a bracelet. Still, they looked nice, which was the point, she supposed.

This was the first time Sonic had been invited to Court since the new rules had been passed, and as they walked, Sally hoped it was a sign of favor from her father. She was concerned about both of them, her father and her intended. While Sonic had not been as keen to wander off as he had before coming back from Angel Island, she was acutely aware of his growing anxiety regarding the Chaos Emeralds. It was unfortunate that none of the regular Emeralds had been seen since the destruction of Helios, and that the whereabouts of the Super Emeralds were also a growing mystery. She only hoped that he would be able to overcome whatever problems had come up.

"Ah… Sal. Um," he interrupted her thoughts, and seemed to be stammering. Quite unlike him. A quick look indicated the source of his nervousness, and confusion. And the blush on his cheeks.

"What? Is something wrong?" She teased, and moved her shoulders back and forth. The effort he put in looking in a more appropriate direction forced a giggle to her lips.

"How does… ah. It stay up? I mean keep from falling?" He scratched behind his head and looked down at his feet.

"I'm wearing a corset underneath," she explained, stifling further laughter. "I could jump up and down, and it wouldn't slip. Want to see?"

"Would you hold it against me if I said yes?" he asked back, and this time she blushed.

"I've gone years wearing only a vest. Why are they suddenly so interesting?"

"That's easy enough to answer!" Sonic, now in male territory, regained his confident tone of voice. "Clothes sometimes make females look exotic. Also, there's something exciting about opening a present rather than just seeing what you're going to get right from the start."

Sally could see the logic in that, even if it left her a little flushed. It wasn't that she had never thought of sexual matters (not at all that), but Sonic had never really mentioned what he liked or disliked before. While she and Sonic had been intimate before, and she had thought about being with a few other males as well over the years, she wasn't nearly as practiced in using her sexuality as many other females, and not just noblewomen. Rouge came immediately to mind, and even Bunnie was more proficient in it than the Princess of the Kingdom was.

A flood of thoughts came and went, all circulating around that oft-neglected aspect of herself, when the two entered the Royal Audience Chamber, though it was built as a rectangular cross, with the Dais or Throne at the head. At their entrance, the Royal Speaker announced them.

"Her Royal Highness Princess Sarah Alicia Jean Marie Bourbon of Acorn, at the request of Her Father the King," the Speaker had to take a breath after all that, but then continued undaunted. "The Royal Consort, Sir Sonic of West Island, at the request of His Majesty the King."

Sonic suppressed a groan when he saw who else was present and what they were doing. Sally's father sat on his throne, while her mother's seat went empty. This in itself was a bit unusual, but what was almost as unexpected was an addition to the throne itself: some sort of screen seemed to have been installed, further separating the monarch from those present. Looking closely, Sonic could see his shaded outline, but not much beyond that.

A band to the side was busy playing soft courtly music on a variety of instruments, the current piece having its tone set by a flute. It was pretty much the exact opposite of the sort of music the blue hedgehog preferred. It didn't help that he had no skill in ballroom dancing, and that he couldn't tell a marche from a glisse, much less pull off a proper pirouette. High above their heads, lights reflected softly off a thousand points of crystal bathed the gold hued marble and royal red finery in an ethereal glow.

Source alive, how uncomfortable he felt here!

Sally took his hand, and they went past the King, paying their respects and thanks. Oddly, he didn't reply, but instead waved them off. Sally, at least, knew how to work the room and make use of her time. Sonic contented himself with following, and grabbing a couple of the expensive little foodstuffs offered by wandering servants. Sally, meanwhile, met up with some of the King's Ministers, and their wives, and then they found Prince Elias and his commoner wife, and Sonic felt a bit less out of place among them given that he and Elias were friends, if not close ones.

More guests arrived to fill out the court, and Sonic tried to find any semi-familiar faces among them. At first there was only Geoffrey St. John, who stood by the Golden Throne like a loyal dog. Sonic looked for Hershey, who he would've thought also to be present, but never found her. Many other Secret Service agents were around instead, covering all the entrances and exits, and stationed in pairs all over the place.

Then Sonic heard a familiar name: that of his uncle Chuck, and the four of them went to greet the former robian and great court science advisor. Sir Charles no longer actually held that position, as he had refused it despite the offer of King Max. Sonic had always thought Rotor would assume the position, but the King had chosen someone else from his inner circle. They all exchanged pleasantries, and soon the conversation turned to personal matters which Sonic had only a passing interest in.

He would have preferred to spend his time napping in a tree.

Still, he wasn't here for himself. He was here for Sally's sake.

What must have been well over an hour later, well after everyone had arrived, the Royal Speaker announced that the time had come for the King himself to address the Court as to the reason he summoned them. The music stopped, and after some brief milling about, all the nobles and important persons gave their attention to the shaded mobian who sat upon the Golden Throne.

"Loyal Subjects of the Crown of Crowns, of the King of Kings, of the Golden Throne and the Sword of Acorns," King Max's voice was strong and sure, and it carried and reverberated throughout the great hall. "I look down before me, and I see the bulwark of our society. I see the foundation of our greatness and fastness as a nation. I have summoned you to bear witness to my commands for the purpose of putting to rest these troubled times."

"Those with open eyes can see the unraveling that is occurring, not just in fringe lands, not just on the Mercian border, but all throughout the Kingdom, and especially in the realms south and west of the Great Forest. A great warrior may die of not just a single wound, but a thousand pinpricks. We shall not permit Mercia to flout our demands, to build up its forces, or to throw off our suzerainty."

"We shall not permit smugglers and peddlers of ginger to take advantage of lawlessness in these regions, bringing with them the stench of moral decay. We shall not permit threats to our loyal subjects by former mercenaries or modern day brigands. We shall not permit the rise of unionized workforces, enclaves of socialists or anarchists, or any other organization which would tear down all we have built, fought for, and been given by our ancestors of a dozen generations."

"We shall not fail in our devotion to the Source or to our father's fathers, and so we shall not permit the rise of foreign religions on Our Soil. We shall not permit the rise of Mogulian Cults. We shall not permit the practice of Humanism, in any of its forms. And we shall not permit the heresy of the Ritual Church to lead our people astray. We are the Mystery of the Source Revealed, in the… Flesh. For all to see. False Faiths have no place in Our Eyes."

"My commands are this," The King finally said, and the crowd murmured in anticipation of his words. "There will be no more compromises. The time to negotiate with those we should dictate is past. Only the strongest hand may grasp the reigns of the Kingdom, and only an Iron Fist can hold them. Mine will be that Fist. Mercia has taunted us for the last time. When my ultimatum passes in eleven hours, I will order my soldiers to enter Mercia, and to oust the Grand Duke. He will be brought before me, and he will bow before justice is delivered to him."

There was even more quiet murmuring at that, excited talk about settling accounts. Sally just shook her head. "War…"

"Martial Law shall be enforced in all the southern and western Provinces of the Kingdom. The Ministry for the Prevention of Vice and Deviancy has assembled lists of those guilty of disloyalty, in action or intention, and they shall be brought together and they shall know the hand of justice as it closes around their throats. Lastly…"

Behind the screen, the King hesitated, just a few seconds.

"Lastly, there is the matter of succession. As you are all aware, in his great wisdom, Xerxes the Golden decreed that all those to sit upon the Golden Throne were to be male heirs of the male line of the main family, following strictly the dictates of primogeniture. For a time, I had contemplated deviation from that mandate, but I have seen a New Truth. It is that Truth I shall reveal to you all tonight."

More drastically than before, the King's words had an element of finality and weight to them. While there was no denying the harsh tones and approach towards the problems he had highlighted, what he had said had really not come as a great surprise. Indeed, those present would have been shocked if he had changed the official position and attitude. This, however, had the undercurrent of something very different than the norm.

"The Truth is…" King Maximilian shifted behind the screen that obscured him. "That my daughter can not take the Golden Throne. Will not take the Golden Throne."

"Father!" Sally interrupted, yelling to him with a mixture of anger and worry. "What are you saying? That I cannot rule? That I am unfit to rule!"

"You are unfit," he replied, voice a deep rumble. "Both of you."

Elias recoiled, as if struck. His wife, Meg, clung fearfully to his arm. Sally looked about to say more, to object again, but her voice choked out and she turned away, tears in her eyes. It was that, seeing that, which turned Sonic's stomach. He couldn't bear to see her cry, no matter the cause.

"How dare you say that about her!" Sonic snarled, taking a step forward to place himself between King and Daughter. "Sal here fought for this Kingdom while you were trapped in the Void! We all risked our lives because you had to pick a fight with the overlanders, and when you couldn't win the war yourself, you picked the WORST ONE OF THE LOT to help you!"

Those around him quickly stepped back to distance themselves. None could believe what he had said, and in the King's presence. Sonic just continued, not caring what they thought or felt about what he had to say. The words, once they started, once they had crossed the Rubicon, became a torrent.

"And even though it was your fault, YOUR FAULT, the Eggman almost destroyed Mobius, we still saved you! Still brought you back! Still made you King! If not for her, you'd still be rotting away in the Void, and everyone here would be dead or roboticized!" Sonic swiped his fist through the air, ire rising. "I've listened to you criticize her, disagree with her, even demean her, because you don't like what she had to say! Well, pal; I sure as hell don't like what you're saying right now! And I don't give a fuck WHO you are - you'd better apologize, right now!"

For a few seconds, there was complete and utter stunned silence.

"You…!" St. John began to say, but before the words had even left his mouth, a slow laughter came from behind the screen. Geoffrey looked in the direction of the King, at where he new stood as a shadowed figure in front of the hidden throne. The skunk immediately shut up and backed off.

"The Hero of Mobius disapproves?" King Max asked sardonically, and with not a little cruelty. "Well. It is fortunate then, than Mobius no longer needs heroes. Much less an ailing commoner such as yourself. Know your place, Hedgehog, or be put into it."

"And whose gonna put me in my place? You?" Sonic smirked, and shot forward. "I don't know what you have behind there, but…"

Several of the guards moved to try and intervene, but none of them had weapons, and none of them had even a fraction of Sonic's speed. Geoffrey St. John, who was both quite fast and nearby, simply stood back and watched. Sonic took the opportunity presented, and jumped towards the throne, grabbing the shades that had been put up to obscure the King.

Then he saw something, and twisted at the last possible second, throwing himself to the side. A long line of blood streaked from his left cheek, just under his eye. He saw a blade, the Sword of Acorn, sticking out of the screen where he had just been. A millisecond slower, a fraction of an inch less, and it would have gone right through his eye and out the back of his head. As Sonic fell to the ground, one hand pulled down the barrier, and other braced himself.

The screen fell from the metal poles that had held it in place around the King.

"My daughter lacks the spine to rule. My son lacks the heart. And you… you lack the breeding. None of you are fit to wear this Crown." The screen fell, cut in half by the sword that still stuck through it. This slowed it down, however. Only after Max has said it, did the first bit of him become clear. And it was the great crown itself.

Or, it had once been the crown. Now, it seemed more like horns: four of them, one in the front, two to the sides, and one in back, curving out and up, golden metal that had once come together at the top now split apart. It seemed no less than the crown had exploded from the inside. Encrusted gems still glittered amid the gold, reflecting shadows and light.

The crown did not end; rather, it merged into what came next. Looking up, Sonic could see the face, see the familiar features, etched now into steel, and framed by the sharpened edges of what may have once been an expression of determination and fury. The eyes were gone, empty, and in the sockets glowed furious white energy, like lights in a skull. The rest of the body was little different, save that it also mounted the trappings and finery of royalty, the purples and the reds, the gold epaulettes and rope that hung under the right arm, and declared its wearer the master of all he surveyed.

What appeared like a gauntlet was simply an extension of the arm, and on the hand there were two rings. Sonic realized what that meant, just then. The Crown and the Ring of Acorns had both been worn when he had done this to himself, as had his wedding ring. They were a part of him now.

In the audience of assembled nobles, there were gasps.

One female screamed.

"Your place is at my feet, with the rest of my subjects," Max continued, as if not noticing that he had been revealed. "It is where you were born, and it is where you will die."

The blazing eyes stared at him, and Sonic felt the bands around his wrists tighten. More and more, till they bit into the skin, and threatened to pop his hands off like a flower bud. He screamed, and writhed on the ground, kicking wildly and flailing. With a shout, Sally ran to him, while Charles and Elias approached more warily.

"Now, you understand," Max said to the hedgehog, and then turned to the nobles. "My son is not fit to follow in the wake of his grandfathers; by his own admission he has no ability or desire to rule as the situation would demand it of him. Were this not such a dark and portentous time, I would still step aside for either of them, as was my duty, and as my ailing health implored me to do."

"So it was…" His mouth never moved as he spoke, forever frozen in a down turned scowl. "For the Kingdom. For the Golden Throne. I have instead chosen another path."

He held up a roboticized hand, the backs of his fingers serrated metal.

"For me, it was a path of pain, and loss, yet I went forward without fear, without hesitation, without remorse or regret. I have become an instrument of the Kingdom and of my fathers. I have become an Iron Scepter to dash our enemies to pieces; enduring and invincible, beyond the reproach of old age. That is what I have now become."

"Max!" Charles cried, and appealed to him with open arms. "Please! Stop this! What have you done to yourself!"

Max looked down at him expression forever unchanging. "This had to be done, old friend. To save the Kingdom."

"This wasn't, isn't, how it was supposed to happen!" Sir Charles lanced to his side, where Sonic still lay struggling on the ground. "This isn't what…"

"It is." Max moved with a speed that belied his new nature, placing a metal hand on Charles' shoulder. A heartbeat before the latter could so much as flinch from the cold contact, he gasped, as the pommel of the Sword of Acorns hit him in the gut. He coughed out all the air in his body, and fell flat on his face. Max caught him with his foot just before he would have hit the marble steps, before lowering him gently to the ground and standing back on both feet.

"This is exactly how it was supposed to happen. I'm sorry you couldn't see that, even now." The King turned to his children, and his sword rose up in a wide arc. There was a flash of contact, and a sound like a broken bell. The severed upper half of another sword spun through the air before hitting the ground, the tip becoming impeded in a sitting cushion.

Elias, standing opposite his father, stared down at his broken blade.

"Did you really think a common blade, no matter how finely crafted, could match the Sword of your Ancestors?" King Max held the flawless edge of that most precious family heirloom between them. "I am pleased you tried, however. It shows your resolve. Your determination."

"You have betrayed us all!" Elias snarled, showing uncharacteristic indignation. He had taken off his gloves, rightly assuming them to be trapped. "Including the memory of my father, the flesh and blood you, who fought so hard to rid us of the specter of roboticization! I won't let this be!"

"We won't let it!" Sally added in, standing up near where Sonic lay. She raised her hands, ready to fight weaponless against the unstoppable Sword of Acorns.

Max chided them with a chuckle. "You overestimate yourselves. Observe. I believe you know, abstractly, what this Sword is capable of."

In his hand, the long sword burned a fierce and icy blue, and instantly Elias fell to his knees, what was left of his own sword falling from limp fingers. He gritted his teeth, and tried to raise his arms, but it was hopeless. In seconds, he had gone from a normal state to one of complete exhaustion. He fell finally on his hands and knees, struggling for breath.

"Once I have touched another with this blade, even though a metallic medium, such as a sword or armor, I may drain them of energy. Mogul used this property to steal the chaos energy from Enerjack, do you remember, my daughter?" Max lowered the sword, and the glow faded. "How sad I must now use it to humble my own upstart children."

Sally clenched her fists tightly, trying to find a possible solution. With both Sonic and Elias down, she knew she had to at least try. Her fingers curled and uncurled, as she played through potential strategies in her mind. Her father stood like a statue, his sword in his right hand, the blade between them in a standard fencing posture.

"Avoid the blade. Avoid the blade. Avoid the blade…" Sally repeated it in her mind like a mantra, as she looked for a weak spot on her father's new body. Then, satisfied she had found it, she tensed to move, even with the restrictive clothes she had no time to shed. To the sound of gasps from the assembled nobles, Sally charged.

Her father lunged, and she ducked neatly away from contact with the sword he held. Instantly, his wrist began to rotate, to bring the flat of the sword down and into her side. Sally pushed off and down with her right leg, rolling forward and into what she had assumed to be a blind spot. It was the normal weakness of any sword, and especially a large one like he was using: from the wrist itself, and with the joints of the arm, it had a limited range of motion and engagement at any given time. To beat it, one had to enter a spot where the sword could not quickly move, and strike.

Still, she watched for a surprise, and found it in the form of the Sword's scabbard, in his left hand, the tip of which was headed right for her. Rather than striking up, she pulled back her arms, and hit the ground, propelling herself away. The scabbard tip hit the ground hard enough to crack the marble stonework.

She was out of his blind spot now, and they both knew it. Max pivoted, his whole body turning, as the sword cut a clean arc through the air. Sally did a split, lowering herself and flattening her body as the edge missed her by only inches. Without hesitating, she rose up, tucked her legs in, and propelled herself back at him with her arms. He was momentarily exposed, and in that instant, she struck, aiming to kick up and into his chin with both feet at full strength and maximum extension.

One of the weak spots of any robian is the head, and the often (relatively) weak attachment it has to the body. Still, he had had enough forethought to bring up his arm, and partially shield himself. Only one of her feet had actually hit him in the chin, the other mostly deflecting off his forearm. Still, his feet left the ground, if only an inch or two, before he slammed back down, his balance restored. Sally, meanwhile, kicked off him, and avoided another flat-edged blow thrown her way.

"Your skill in hand to hand combat is undeniable…" King Max admitted, lowering his arm to his side. "Even Rosie, your mentor, was never so swift, precise, or elegant in her movements and technique. I applaud and appreciate your effort."

"But…" he held up the sword, and again it glowed a glacial blue. Instantly, Sally felt it, the energy being drained out of her. She tried to stand, but her legs gave out, and she fell onto her side.

"Why are you so surprised? Didn't I just explain it?" Max tapped his chest with the sound of metal on metal. "Armor. Swords. Metal. These things conduct the effect of this magnificent Sword."

"No!" Sally shook her head. "But, then how…?"

He began to walk towards her, sword drawn. "The moment you touched me, you sealed your fate."

"Get away from her!"

Max looked past Sally and to his left, where Sonic was up on his feet, the wrists of his gloves were soaked with blood, but it seemed he had freed himself from the trapped bindings. By his feet, Elias's broken sword seemed to provide some of the answer as to how he had escaped. Max just raised the Sword of Acorns, as he had before.

"Is it wise to use up the last of your Chaos Energy like that?" The King asked, Sonic's reflection staring back at him from the flawless metal of the royal blade.

Sonic gave a start at that. "How…?"

"My eyes and ears are everywhere. Especially in places where potentially troublesome rats like to hide and work," The King replied, a note of pleasure in his tone. "In fact, I even happen to know where an Emerald is. Would you like it? All you have to do is… pledge yourself to me. You are still a knight of the Kingdom, and I am now and always will be King."

Sonic almost seemed to think about it. Or, more realistically, he thought about taking the Emerald and then betraying the King. But even that was a risk, and then there was his pride…! He shook his head, and the effort of turning down the offer was a greater struggle than he had ever expected.

"Fuck you!"

"How typically coarse and undignified," Max said with some satisfaction, and his sword began to glow. "Do you remember that cut on your face, fallen knight?"

Sonic did, and like water receding before a wave, he felt his energy sapped. It was shockingly sudden and thorough, as if a tap had been turned fully open, and every iota of power was spilling out of him uncontrollably. He tried to run, but he could only manage a few steps before his feet began to drag.

"Damnit…" Sonic looked up, defiantly, unwilling to bow his head.

Max just held out the Sword of Acorns, waiting.

"Damnit!" Sonic's legs gave out and he fell into his arms. "Damnit! Damn… it…"

When it was done, and the hero was spent, King Max lowered the mighty weapon, and in a single motion, sheathed it. With a single nod in the direction of St. John, the skunk and his Secret Service agents moved in to apprehend those who had defied their lord and King. Meg, who had been trying to revive her weakened husband, quickly found an agent by her side, and after a brief struggle, she deflated and gave up.

Maximilian the First faced his nobles.

"Such is the fate of all who stand before me. My Father is Frederic! My Grandfather is Melchoir! My ancestors are Xerxes and Alexander! I am the King of Kings and the Lord of All Mobian Lands!"

He raised metal hands in triumph, and the nobles, either out of fear or genuine support, cheered him. Behind him, Geoffrey St. John looked down from his liege lord, to the unconscious Princess in his arms. Like the others she was still breathing, still alive, but in no shape to do much of anything.

"This is… what has to be done…" he whispered, and with the other agents and their prisoners, he left the cheering room behind.


"At 0800 this morning, the Royal Air Force began a series of strikes at Mercian logistics bases and staging areas. Casualties at this moment are unknown, but assumed to be in the hundreds. A MAF spokesman has confirmed that mechanized units have crossed the border and begun operations to subdue Mercia and force its compliance with Royal Decree. The King has yet to draft a formal declaration of war, instead the Royal Press secretary called the action a 'domestic affair and not a conflict between nations.'"


Rotor cleared his eyes, and looked up from his computer screen. What was all that commotion outside his lab? Didn't his assistants realize that when he asked for silence and to not be disturbed, he was including them in that scenario? He was about to activate the intercom and ask, when the door suddenly burst open. Soldiers wearing baklavas stormed in, weapons aimed in his direction.

"Get down! Get down!" "Down on the floor, NOW!"

"What… what is…?" Rotor couldn't believe they were here for him. Was one of his assistants in the back in trouble? What the hell was going on?

"Hands where we can see im!"

Two of the soldiers roughly grabbed him and forced him to the floor. Shock slowly gave way to indignation, and Rotor began to struggle. It was, however, far too late. Not only was he outclassed in terms of strength and training, but from his position face down on the ground, hands cuffed behind his back, his options were seriously limited.

"What is the meaning of this!" He roared, shaking his head to try and lift his chin off the tile.

"Take him!" A soldier barked from somewhere above and behind him, and a second later Rotor found his eyes covered, and his mouth shut by duct tape.


"Operation Tiger drew overseas criticism yesterday, when the Prolocutor of the Republic of Albion, Gala-Na, indicated that the tiny nation state would 'look unfavorably on any Mobian troops that penetrated its new defensive perimeter, which includes the Mercian capitol city of Starlight.' Albion has not been alone in expressing support for Mercia, and her declaration has been echoed by representatives for other city states living in exile."


"Get your hands off me!" Rush thrashed back and forth, managing to elbow one of his assailants in the ribs. The damage it did through the soldier's flak vest was negligible, but at least it pissed him off. Rush almost doubled over as the butt of a rifle introduced itself to his gut.

"Yiffing prick!" Another blow, this time to the back of the head, punched out his lights for the evening.


"Witnesses near the scene of the confrontation reported the sound of gunfire from within the base, headquarters for the controversial Miles Militum Air Corp. Police were quick to evacuate the area, and have just issued a statement that local law enforcement, with the aid of Royal Troops, have suppressed an illegal arms deal to supply Cyclone War Machines to rebel elements in the southern territories. Given the classified nature of the facility and those involved, it is unlikely that more details will be forthcoming."


"How dare you think you can be getting away with thees?" Antoine stood tall between his new 'guests' and the angry looking half-cyborg in his bed. "Don't you know who I am! Who we are!"

The four soldiers parted, and a familiar face entered through the smashed open door. Outside, a siren blared among the thousands of pinprick lights that lit up Mobtropolis at night. Antoine's quarters were in the Queen's Wing of the Royal Palace, and with the Secret service given responsibility for the ball and meeting in the Royal Hall, it should have been a relatively uneventful nightfall for the Captain of the Royal Guard.

"We know who you are," the newcomer said, and looked up at them through dark mirror shades.

"Geoff?" Bunnie gasped from the bed, covering herself with one corner of the sheets.

"St. John!" Antoine's eyes wandered over to where his sword lay, in a place of honor by his work desk. It was too far to make a quick grab for. "St. John, what is the meaning of thees intrusion!"

"You'll have to forgive me, but… I have orders to detain both of you." He snapped his fingers, and the four soldiers, took aim, two at each of the Freedom Fighter legends. "Come along peacefully."

"If ya'll think those lit'l pea shoots scare me any…" Bunnie started to get off the bed, her metal feet hitting the carpeted floor with a thud.

Geoffrey St. John sighed. "A puppet's strings; the clockwork key turns."

"What?" Bunnie and Antoine asked, at the same time. And then the former gasped, her cybernetics seizing up – her arm locked in place behind her back, and her heels leapt back to meet the backs of her thighs. She fell forward with an undignified yelp. Antoine didn't hesitate; he ran to her side, and found her breathing slowly, but struggling to speak.

"What did you DO!" He whirled on St. John, his normally timid demeanor now completely gone and replaced by a look of fury and rage.

"By the order of his Illustrious Majesty, the King, all those with military grade cybernetic enhancements or modifications are also given two secret killswitches, in the form of phrases." St. John sighed softly, as if explaining it was annoying in and of itself. "The one I used incapacities her, specifically."

Antoine looked down at Bunnie, and then back at St. John. "You…!"

"Before you ask…" the skunk interrupted. "Yes: I also know the one that can kill her. Will you come along peacefully, Captain?"

"Damn you. St. John," Antoine nodded, and lowered his hands to the floor. Two of the guards moved forward, one with handcuffs.

"It isn't anything personal," he replied, and crossed his arms. "You're too close to the Old Order. A New World is being built, right here. Right now. You'll see what I mean soon enough."

In a minute, both the former Captain of the Royal Guard, and his lover, one of the Heroine's of the Resistance, were gone. Geoffrey St. John turned off the light before he left.


"Reports indicate that several divisions of troops have joined in the revolt; fighting continues around Casino Night, Gammorin, and Lyra, as Loyalist forces attempt to reassert control over these territories. Rumors persist that the King has been handed a drafted Declaration of Self-Determination from at least a half dozen cities throughout the southern half of Mobius. With the calling up of reserves and guardsmen in six Provinces, representatives of the Kingdom and the Terran Protectorate met today to ensure a state of peace between the two powers along their mutual border."


Lara couldn't say she got along very well with Fiona.

Well, the android Fiona, anyway, not the real one (who know what she was up to). This version, this construct, had been a member of the Eggman Empire, after all, a force notorious in even her native time. Lara trusted her, now, simply by virtue of the fact that 'she' also had an Emerald in her now, and 'she' had apparently been reprogrammed. Miles had assured her Fiona 2.0 was her closest ally, and she supposed it was true, but that didn't mean she had to like the android girl.

For a number of reasons.

Lara was sure, so sure, that she was Miles' favorite. He had even called her the First among all those he would eventually call to his side. For a time, she had had Miles, his attention and his power, all to herself, but then Fiona had showed up, been given an emerald (just like that!), and sent off to do important missions!

Was it because Fiona was an android that she had nothing to really learn about her new role? Or maybe the Emerald was just another weapon in her pre-programmed arsenal. Lara wasn't sure, but Fiona's instant ability and affinity with her new powers, and the fact that she had been given the responsibility of organizing more 'second tier' followers, made the echidna girl from the future more than a little jealous.

It didn't help how Fiona tended to act around him.

Or that Fiona treated her like a junior partner in what was going on.

Or that Miles let her go off and act completely independently.

All the time!

"Being jealous of a machine…?" The voice to Lara's right made a little huff, not quite derisive, but showing obvious disapproval or disagreement. Lara returned it with a roll of her eyes.

'Do you have to keep reading my thoughts?' Lara thought/asked. 'And she happens to be a very sophisticated machine. Nothing wrong with being a little jealous of what she can do.'

Tikal was sitting in a chair with her back to Lara, flipping through a magazine. At that, Lara balked.

'What are you doing?' Lara thought/yelled. "Don't use my powers to read that! What'll people think when they see a magazine turning its own pages!'

Tikal looked over her shoulder with a pout. 'Since we're sharing a body, its only fair I get to make some use of it…"

'We aren't sharing a body.' Lara gritted her teeth in growing frustration. 'You're freeloading!'

'I'm making you stronger. Please bear with me,' Tikal replied and went back to reading. Lara sighed in defeat. There wasn't much she could do about Tikal, at least at the moment. Nail had been lucky: he had absorbed Athair out of the Master Emerald when he touched it, and then had been able to return the elder echidna to his body. Tikal, who Lara had absorbed, had nowhere else to go.

They were separate beings in the same body; she could see Tikal and argue with her, but no one else could. She also had access to Lara's powers, as evidenced by her current activity. Tikal couldn't interact with the material world, but she could use Lara's emerald enhanced abilities to do so.

"It's pointless to be jealous of that fake vixen, anyway," Tikal went on from where she sat (but didn't really exist). "A machine can never master chaos control. Your potential far exceeds hers."

'Is that true?' Lara wondered loudly enough for her thoughts to be easily 'heard.'

"It'll take some time, though. And hard work. But I assume Mr. Tails choose you for a good reason, and not just because it was convenient." Tikal looked over her shoulder again and waved her hand in placating manner while laughing. "Just kidding! Kidding! You'll be fine!"

Lara groaned. This was like having an annoying little sister running through your mind. She just hoped Tikal stayed out of her dreams. After all, she was…

"I was fourteen before I became sealed in the Master Emerald, you know," Tikal commented, resting her chin on her right hand. "I'm not a little kid. And you come from such a prudish time, too! Back when I was growing up, most girls were married by your age."

'Then you've…? You were…?'

"Yep," Tikal said it slowly, and Lara could sense that she was grinning like a Cheshire cat.

Lara's cheeks turned as red as the rest of her body. 'Ok! I think I've heard enough on this topic! But we need to work out some rules here, between you and me! Like how to keep my private thoughts private!'

Tikal nodded her head, but went back to her own thing.

Lara calmed herself, and after a minute of silence, she looked over to the other source of her aggravation. Fiona stood nearby, with one of her new acolytes, a female cat named Hershey. While Lara really had nothing against this new arrival, who didn't even have an emerald or anything, the fact that Hershey was there under Fiona's wing was a little annoying.

"Are you sure she should be watching this?" Lara asked, and went back to watching Miles and Merlin work.

"Darling Miles wished her to be, in case she was needed for emotional … support." Fiona was also looking into the room before them, glowing with runes and chaos energies. Miles and Merlin were hard at work, trying to extract the Super Emerald from Drago's body. Lara could feel how the powers of the two masters pulsed and flowed, trying to draw out the Devourer's presence, while at the same time moving through Drago's memories and consciousness.

The trick, she had been told, was that Drago had to want to lose the power and support of the Emerald. Lara, of course, had then asked why anyone would want to be corrupted and turned into a monster like the Super Emeralds did. To which Miles had only shaken his head and said that she, more than he, should be able to understand what Drago was going through and what had to be done.

Lara had thought long and hard about that while she waited.

No matter how she tried to grasp it, she couldn't believe that Miles' chaos emerald was corrupting her, or changing her. It was a wonderful gift, and wonderful feeling, and wonderful sense of being and belonging! It was everything she had wanted and dreamed for. He was right, though, in that he didn't know what it was like. It was even possible he thought he had done her some wrong, and the next time they talked, she intended to try her best to express how strongly she disagreed with that notion.

To Fiona, however, she huffed. "When this works, we'll want to keep it a secret. What if she was captured by one of the Devourer's minions?"

"If it works," Fiona corrected. "It will stay a secret. I assure you."

"You don't have to talk over my head, you know," Hershey deadpanned.

"Sorry," Lara quickly apologized. Fiona did as well, a second later.

"It's just…" Lara searched for the words. "It's like a state secret, whatever they're doing in there."

"You don't know?" Hershey asked, sounding surprised.

"Only abstractly," Lara gave a little embarrassed laugh. "I'm really still learning, even after growing up with powers like this."

"What about you, Master?" Hershey asked Fiona.

Lara quirked an eyebrow. "Master?"

"Aside from the psychology aspects, I know exactly what's going on," Fiona explained, her eyes never leaving the room. "I'm recording the whole event as we speak. Darling Miles plans to review it later, to streamline the process for the next time."

Lara sighed, on the verge of bowing altogether to the android's near perfection.

"So, Hershey. Lara instead concentrated on Fiona's new underling. "I've been told Fiona picked you up specifically for this little project. This guy your husband or fiancée?"

"My ex," Hershey replied, with a little smile.

Fiona smirked at that. "I'm lucky I got to her in time, actually. She was on the MPVD Short List, since that mess in Cat Country."

"Cat Country?" Lara asked.

"Yes, but not in the way you think. I am feline, but I'd never been to Cat Country before," Hershey began to explain in brief. "St. John and I were sent to apprehend Rouge for some trumped up charges, mostly because the King wanted to take over Prower Dynamics… We chased her to Cat Country, and ended up stirring up a hornet's nest of a fight with the natives. My commander wanted to stay and fight, even though we were sure to be overrun, so I kinda… knocked him out and ordered a retreat."

Lara sensed there was more to it than that, but didn't press.

"I got discharged from the Secret Service for it," Hershey finally continued with the aftermath, a couple seconds later. "I was on my way to Casino Night when I was enlightened."

"Enlightened?" Lara shook her head. "Is that what you're calling it?"

Fiona shrugged.

"Well, I don't think…" Lara never finished her sentence. There was a sudden and dramatic surge of power in the other room. Both Merlin and Miles held out their hands and backed away from Drago, who seemed to be caught in a seizure, his arms and legs straining against their bonds. Then, without warning, there was a flash, and a large red ruby appeared over, but outside, of his chest.

Instinctively, Lara reached up to her collarbone, where another chaos emerald, much, much smaller but the same color, glittered in the reflected light. Back in the room, Drago slumped, unconscious, his chest slowly rising and falling. Fiona went in first, picking up the corrupted Emerald neither Miles nor Merlin dared to touch themselves. Hershey was right behind, and checked Drago for any other signs of injury.

Finally, Lara entered.

"Did it work?" she asked, hopeful of what she had seen, looking to the two vulpines she served for an encouraging answer. Merlin had his eyes closed, and an expression of concentration on his face. Miles, however, was smiling, and Lara found it contagious. He was confident, and so she became confident too.

"I think so," Miles Prower said, wiping sweat from his brow. "It took both of us, but I think so! We can save them, Lara! We can save Him."

Behind her, Lara saw Tikal looking concerned.

"He's optimistic," Tikal commented. "Eager. Just like when I first met him.'

'You're not convinced?' Lara mentally asked.

Tikal pivoted to face the ruby in Fiona's hands, her ethereal body tense. "No. With the Devourer, there are no assurances. No safe places or moments."

"Lara?" Miles asked, noting how her attention veered for longer than normal. "Is something wrong?"

"No," she gave him her attention and shook her head. "Nothing I can't take care of."

Just a few feet away, the crimson Super Emerald burned with an inner hate-filled fire.

"Hopefully," Tikal added.