Good evening to all.

At last another update and a day after the last one. First to say is: I thank RadRed08 and Sara for y'alls' reviews. By the way Sara, it's spelled interesting. Don't fret, I had the exact same problem when I began "really" writing. But I come now as an example that practice and experience amends and sharpens talents and skills.

Thus we come to another short chapter but with a lot of scenes to make up for the daft length. In all honesty, I look at this as not one of my better chapters as I felt it was thrown together to get the storyline moving some. But I will make up for it in the coming chapters. The title to this chapter came hard for the short time I allowed myself to dwell on it. It takes place in the morning and had that as the main focal point in my consideration. I hope it is true to form to follow.

Disclaimer: Here we are again. I stand to go nothing in the value of monotary profit from the use of the other creators original characters. Hey, I'm getting better at wording this.

Thanks again, and do enjoy!

The Rising of Fates

By: Mauser

Three digital rings was all it took to wake St. John from his hard sleep on his stomach. But it was Hershey who tossed around in the bed to answer it.

"Yes?...Oh hi Sally...Yes...yes, he's right here." She shoved the cordless phone at Geoffrey's drowsy head. "It's Sally, Geoff. She doesn't sound to thrilled."

He grumbled his irritation at the coming earful as he took the phone. "Hello, your highness."

"Geoffrey," came Sally's tight voice, "Sonic, Antoine and Knuckles haven't come back yet."

"What?"

"Theirboogie isn't at the airbase, and Nicole hasn't received any messages. What's going on?"

The urgency in Sally's voice caused Geoffrey to roll over and rise up on the backboard of his and Hershey's bed. "Honestly, Princess, I can't say. Anything come over the airwaves last night?"

"No. Not a peep all night. And that's coming from Chuck."

Rubbing his face, St. John attempted to sigh his drowsiness away. "Maybe we can send Tails' out with Juile-Su and some of the Chaotix–"

"We can't, Geoff–the Prowers haven't returned either. Anything from them before you turned in?"

"Nothing, 'luv," he groaned slightly. "Look," –he turned to the red numbers on the digital clock, "give me thirty and I'll be at H.Q."

The static of Sally's sigh was comforting. "Alright. C'ya then."

"Good bye, Your Highness."

Pushing the talk button that cut the line, Geoffrey rolled over to his left and reached over Hershey and replaced the phone on the charger. Her back was to him, pretending she was asleep. The seasoned agent of His Majesty's Secret Service knew better. "Hershey, 'luv." No response. "Hey," he said, yawning, rubbing her furry shoulder.

She pounced on the touch, rolling over on her back, grabbing Geoffrey's exposed hand and continued over until she trapped him under her spread hips. Her satin gown covered her well, but she tickled him with her bushy tail at his toes. "I heard, hansom," she grinned playfully. "What do you want to eat?" she asked, seeing the time was almost seven in the morning.

He hated doing it, but he had to turn her off. "I'm afraid cold cereal, 'luv."

Hershey tapped his chest lightly, doing her best to lighten him up. "Why is that Knuckles wakes up with Julie-Su every morning while I have to either roll over to an empty bed or wait for you at night?"

He chuckled with a scoff. "I'd go talk to her about that. Right now she's the one waking up in an empty bed." Hershey's displeasing look wasn't enough. "Listen, we aren't the only ones with this mixed up sleep pattern."

"So when do I get you on my own?"

Another chuckle, another displeasing look in return. "When Eggman either quits, chokes on a chicken bone, or Sally puts me on the shelf. Neither I see happening for awhile."

Hershey leaned into him, purring in his ear before shifting her lips to his and kissing him. "Maybe I should shelf you."

He returned her light kiss with his, rubbing her head between her ears which intensified her purr. "I'm going to get yelled at today."

A hard love tap and a smug face ended Hershey's entrapment. "There are day's, Geoffrey."

"Um...actually mornings, 'luv."

Two light taps, wood meeting wood, aroused Knuckles. At first when he peeled his eyelids back, he saw a blurry shadow hanging over him. Before he became aware of where he had slumbered, it came to him in the heartbeat it took him to shoot up from the bunk.

"Hey, easy lad. You're still safe."

Knuckles shook his head, looking at his surroundings and finding almost all the bunks around him were empty. Only that of Sonic at the left rear of the hut and Antoine directly at the foot of his were occupied, as the aged leopard hunched over a weathered ash cane eyed Knuckles in a very unsettling, peculiar manner.

"If a worm doesn't eat an apple?"

Knuckles quizzical expression at Lemaen's riddle was enough to kill the pensive stare of the leopard. "I don't get what your saying?"

Lemaens smiled disappointedly, steadying himself over his cane as he diligently collapsed himself to sit at the edge of Knuckle's bunk. From the lack of overcasting shadows he could see the cracks of the wall, and that of a clock, the echidna only guessed it was late morning, maybe mid. But his real attention went back to Lemaens.

"It's a riddle my mother told me long ago, Knuckles...is it?"

"Yea. Some just call me Knux."

The leopard nodded cordially with a tightened cheek. "I'm sorry I hovered over you like that, but you seem to remind me of someone I used to know."

"Really?"

A drifting smile. "Yes, used to know. Was hoping you might have been him, but it's rather hard for the dead to come back."

Knuckles laughed lightly while rolling his head at the statement. "I'd take you up on that."

Lemaens let it go, gazing around the room and finding entertainment with Sonic's snoring. "Does he sleep that loud? Not good to stay covert, you know. Him and all that racket."

A menacing grin protruded from the Guardian's face. "Want me to kick him up?"

"Nah, don't trouble yourself. Last thing we need is a little game in here to arouse suspicion from the outside."

"Yea, where is everyone?" Knuckles asked, looking around once more.

"Morning exercise. Morning routine. All rubbish if you ask me, though, it is a great way to send out messages." Lemaens' friendly stare drifted troubling around the hut, as if looking at the outside's going-ons and could see them clearly. "But we normally don't do it this late in the morning. Usually we are on our way–I should say they are on their way–to the oilfields and the new fueling-port. I stay behind and mange things while keeping the huts tighty."

Knuckles lifted himself up and swung his feet over the side, his shoes still covering his feet. "How did you get captured?"

"Oh..." Lemaens sighed patiently, "I trusted someone, and they trusted the wrong someone. And so I'm here, running my own front of the war. Mostly to live."

"I'd say your doing a bang-up job with that."

"Now," retorted the leopard, watching Knuckles' glowering face diminish, "like I said, we weren't strong enough, and we may, perhaps, still not be strong enough to get out. In my opinion, it's going to depend on how fast your friends get here and how many bots we can smash. It is going to have to be done today. They haven't sent a worker party out and that's got a few of us worried. Your Echidnian friend too, mind you."

Knuckles stood up and stretched his back with his arms raised high up. His fur was wet, soaked from sweating most of the hot night. And lastly, with his brain fully functional, he was hungry. "Got anymore of the sunflower slop they feed you?"

"Now there you go insulting my cooking," Lemaens replied, damaged.

The Guardian's hands came up disarmingly. "Yo, hey, I didn't know it was your's."

"Actually, it's a recipe a friend once gave me. She could cook like you wouldn't believe, but I'm afraid I'm lacking in certainingredients to bring out the full effect of the bread. Sugar for one."

"You have a lot of friends," Knuckles pointed out.

Lemaens' stare went vacant with his voice, his head lowered to his knees where his cane was standing between. "I have a lot of dead friends, the girl who gave me the recipe included. My world of fighting, Knuckles, is a very dangerous realm. One minute your checking up on a fellow spy, the next your limping into captivity–me being luckier than my friends." His look lapsed into a simple depression. "...so many. Why I said you reminded me of someone I knew. This old mind of mine is a bit clingy."

Knuckles gave a nod for comfort. "I know what you mean."

"I certainly hope so...I need the sympathy. Now," he stated, "about breakfast. I shall fetch you your liking of either sunflower bread or sunflower porridge. Sorry, no milk or eggs."

Knuckles gave a carefree smile that he knew Lemaens deserved. He knew what it was like to lose friends. "The bread will be fine."

"Fantastic, I shall return with more for your friends."

And the proper English leopard departed, thumping the brass end of his cane on the floor as he limped along out the door, shutting it hard to make sure it was locked. Knuckles stretched once more and walked over to Sonic, the hedgehog still snoring away. It was too enticing. He cocked his right foot back at the knee and let it fly, his toes landing on Sonic's right side and launching him up a good six inches before he came crashing down in a fury of blue and tan flailing limbs.

"Hey, what the..." Sonic caught Knuckles mirthful grin from his devious deed. "Ah jeez, Red! You could've just shook me, y'know!" Sonic hissed out. He still knew where he was.

"I'm sorry, Blue. I just..." Knuckles shrugged his shoulders.

"Yea, couldn't resist," Sonic sneered. "So what's up?"

"Lemaens is grabbing food–"

"I'd rather starve."

"Hey, would you just shut-up, Sonic. Lemaens is grabbing us food, and from what he told me, things aren't great at the moment."

A mocking glance around the room with a "duh" expression was all Sonic could manage without getting decked again from Knuckles.

"Look, he says they haven't gone out today, and from what they said yesterday, we could be in a real tight spot."

"Which means," Sonic said, rolling over towards Antoine down the line of bunks on his side of the hut. "Hey 'Twan?"

"Oiu Monsieur," came the dreary coyote's French voice.

"We might need to make a call soon. So get your tail up like the rest of us."

'Twan's back laid motionless, Knuckles taking it as a sign of indifference. "We need to make sure we can call out and get them here fast before the action starts."

"Way ahead of 'ya, Knux. We'll talk with Lemaens when he gets back. I'm starved–"

The door flung open wide with Lemaens rushing in as fast as he could manage with his arms full and his cane thumping loudly on the floor. Knuckles was about to rush to help, but the leopard motioned with his head not to as he back-kicked the door closed. He desperately made his way to the trio, Antoine standing to as fast as he could.

"It's gone from bad to worse, I'm afraid," said the leopard, handing out the bread that was still steaming hot, "I talked with Mikhail while butting in line and he said they've ordered a headcount at five in the afternoon. And they are not sending us out at all today."

"What time is it now?" Sonic asked quickly.

"It's about ten, one of our ladies has a working pocket watch."

"Can you hide us for that long?" Knuckles inquired hastily, worried.

"We can try. Might have to shuffle you around the huts. Better luck at the school house. They haven't taken kindly to our children here, and the mothers are ready to take it out on the bots for it."

"So we've heard," Knuckles replied firmly.

"When do we make our call?"

"An hour at the most before the call. A half hour would be better, but it depends on how fast you can get a ship that can hold about fifty."

Sonic's stare wasn't one of comfort. "You're looking at two with the ship I have in mind."

"Well make it two, but if they get sniffy, it's going to be a bit tense around here."

"We can deal with tense," Knuckles grinned. "We like pressure."

Amadeus lightly walked through the hall and wandered into the kitchen, his uniform hanging in the closet of the guest room he and Merlin were sharing, and wearing one of Darian's white shirts that fell past the fox's knees. He was pleasantly surprised at seeing a pair of red and white shoes protruding from under the kitchen sink along with two yellow bushy, white tipped tails. Stepping closer to the opened cabinet doors, he heard a childish grunt enforce the jerk he saw come from the his son's struggling body.

"What are you doing, Miles?" he asked cheerfully.

Tails pushed himself from under the sink, a quarter inch wrench in hand and his white hair on the roof of his head flustered from work. "Morning, dad," he said brightly as the sun beaming through the window. "I'm just fixing Heather's garbage disposal. The connectors were corroded so I cleaned them off with steel-wool and I'm about finished in putting them back on. Easy task."

Amadeus smiled under his eyepatch. "I wouldn't go parading that around Darian. I have this feeling it was his job and not your's."

Heather's uplifting voice filled the kitchen. "Oh, it was."

"My, good morning ma'am," greeted the fox, bowing curtly in the presence of a lady.

"Oh, please. Darian tries that just to impress me," she blushed, her jeans worn from over-washing and overuse. Her pale-yellow shirt looking the same.

"I should think as gentleman like on his part as much as mine in the Mobian sense."

Her cheery red cheeks rose with a smile. "And stately too. How's your hang-over. Darian's is killing him so far. I can't even roll him out of bed to rinse his mouth out."

"He took the brunt of the bottle, my dear lady. I just helped him finish it so he wouldn't be sick in the morning."

"You talk of experience."

Amadeus knew Tails was waiting for the reply of his golden years, but he was about to disappoint his son with the real truth. "No, ma'am. I just watched others and learned from their mistakes."

Heather's face perched pensively. "Hmm...funny you should say that."

Amadeus took it at face value, knowing full well what the mistakes were of the late and current royal family. "Yes, funny that."

Tails shot up from the floor, wrench still in hand and searched out the switch to the disposal unit. With a groaning, gurgling sound the machine came to life as the two-tailed fox almost jumped in joy for his fruit bearing fix. "Done! Anything else, Heather."

"That's ma'am, son. You know better to use your manners, I hope."

"No, it's okay. He isn't in trouble. Come to think of it Tails, I have a long list, but we have things to do today." She looked into Amadeus eyes, showing apprehension. "Darian wants to take you out to garden this morning, possibly afternoon at this rate. The flowers are due."

"I haven't picked any for a long time."

She smiled once more, but still showing a sign of sadness. "You won't need to pick them sir." Shifting back to the hallway, she called out to her daughter. "Amber, what do you want to eat honey?"

"Eggs and toast!" came the blonde little girl's reply.

"And you two?" she asked after turning back.

"The same, ma'am. Make it simple," Amadeus said somberly to the Overlander woman.

"As you wish."

Stepping back into his room, Amadeus changed into his blue tunic, wiped his boots clean, and checked himself in the mirror. Heather took great care of his uniform the night before he turned in. She had a fine touch with clothing, he noticed. Not a stray fiber sticking out from any seam or cuff. He also noted the firm press, wondering if she had done the same for Darian when he was fighting the Great War against him. It was a humbling thought; staying as a guest in a house of a former enemy, being treated by the man's wife like a king, and dining with his daughter. "I will return the favor, friend. You are a friend." he mused in the mirror to himself.

Looking at Merlin before he exited the room, he sighed for the first time of the new day. He was awakened by him after a muffled shout. A dream, Amadeus gathered, and from the way Merlin wasn't waking up now, he knew it took him awhile to come down from it, to fall back asleep. His brother's haunting face, his scouring eyes and trembling hands, they were signs of something that he should worry about for his brother's sake. Possibly even Knothole's if the nightmares really involved Aleutian.

Walking back towards the kitchen, he was met with the garbage disposal being run through it's paces with the repeated flip of the switch. Stepping through the open frame, he saw Darian working the wall switch with his good hand, his injured freshly wrapped with a white dressing hanging limply at his side, not believing he was hearing the beastly sound from the pit of his sink.

"Morning, sir."

"Huh," Darian said, the Overlander turning over his left shoulder as he leaned up against the counter. He was dressed in the Overlander fashion, a pair of light green, thick battle trousers that looked to have been well kept, and a matching open fronted jacket and shirt for breathing in the summer air. Where the Overlander's lived in the north part of the mainland, which was mostly cold, Darian's attire reflected his former habitat. Just being in the mere presence of the somewhat bulk clothing made Amadeus hold back his fighting spirit. Once upon a time, being this close to an Overlander was a juicy proposition to take to the bank with a blade. "Oh, morning, Prower. Just admiring your son's skill."

"That he has, Darian."

A stiff smile before he turned to his wife. "Honey, could you fix up two apple juices for me and Amadeus, please?"

"Well, since you said please," she said, pulling the door to the old-modeled fridge and taking a flask of juice out. Once she poured into a twin set of glasses, she handed them to Darian who in turned handed one to Amadeus.

"Please, come with me to the living room. I have questions."

"And so do I," the General countered.

He took the same spot on the sofa as the night before, Darian the same recliner chair, though his hand was massaging his head from the apparent hangover Heather had warned him about. He took a sip and sat the glass down on the table-stand beside him, then looked to Amadeus with heavy eyes, rubbing the elbow to his injured hand nervously.

"Now that I have courage. Tell me of Aleutian. How is he? How's his scars?"

Amadeus bit his lower lip in musing, fighting for the words he wanted to use to draw out his own answers. "The scares reflect much of himself. He's very troubled."

"You can say that again," Darian replied harshly.

"Well, when I first met him was actually by the King's side. Elias, you know he's acting–"

"Acting king, yes I know. Amazing we didn't kill him at the start."

"A miracle, Darian, and two if you count what happened over a week ago."

"Oh..."

Amadeus held a pregnant pause as he took a swig from his glass. There must have been a orchard near for the juice was very fresh. "Aleutian happens to be a lost friend to Elias. From what his Majesty has told me, they were playmates while the Guardian's took care of him on the Floating Island...or Angel Island now. But, you see, on the hill of Mathias' house–you've been there, right?" Darian nodded, intently listening. "Our troubled Guardian embraced his Majesty...saying to him he wish he were dead.

"And there's something I don't get about all this, Darian," Amadeus added.

"Go on," replied the Overlander, still intently listening.

"He helped save his own people, okay, but he wished he were dead? Said it right into Elias' ear. What person, especially of his stature, would wish he were dead after doing something so honorable and courageous, and doing it alongside his brother?" Amadeus waited for the response to his lightly loaded question.

But Darian didn't answer him right-away, nor directly.

"You're seeking his help, right?" came the Overlander's response.

"Yes, of course. Every little bit helps."

"Well," Darian sighed, coming to grips of how he was going to put this, "I think the big reason why is because he 'thinks' he murdered three of the co-conspirators who are the reason he is without a wife and child."

"Murdered?" Amadeus put forth, stunned.

"So he thinks. I say he cleansed the world, but I don't go saying that in front of him nor his lop eared friend. Especially the lop."

"Lop? Who's the lop?"

"I can't say for sure. He just popped into my house after I got home and was getting Heather and Amber ready to bug out before a Light Coronel named Richfield put two and two together and came up with one missing Overlander."

Amadeus need not ask for Darian knew the next question. "Richfield used to command a detachment of light regular troops with the Overlander Army. It so happened that it wasn't his dream post and with his age running to the end of his prime and the war almost over, he wasn't a very happy camper with the outcomes. Till the day he died, he hated you and Max's family with a passion, plus any other Mobian he saw.

"But he could cope with them in the pursuit of his goals."

"I've heard of him," Amadeus said cautiously as it were, sipping at his glass. "Knew of some of his failed endeavors, but only through the hear-say of after action reports."

"They weren't hear-say, they were true. Many of us did our best not to go to war with that man. He should've stayed as a low lying Lieutenant and took his orders like the rest of us non-coms."

"But he stayed after the war?"

"Figure it out, Prower," Darian frowned, taking his second sip from his glass. "Bitter, defeated by you, plus looked down upon by his superiors and subordinates."

"Sounds to me like someone out to prove something other than himself."

"Bingo," Darian snapped, "and along came one of us. Julian. Remember him?"

Amadeus' face turned to malice. "How can I not!"

"Well, the self proclaimed Robotnick made a deal through his nephew, Snively. Snively pulled all the strings for Richfield: money, positions of key supplies, even this place and our training compound which nothing of it remains now." He raised his glass to hold Amadeus' inquires. "And he gave us a contact and so called 'operative.'"

"Aleutian?" Amadeus jumped hurriedly.

"No, it wasn't him," Darian calmly replied. "But I do wonder if the badger came from the same line of training from the same master. The way he talked, the way he plotted and planned–he resembled Aleutian and Emi-La in his tactics and mannerisms." He sat back, almost like surrendering to tiredness. "But his motives were totally different."

"Got a name? We can find him if we must?"

"Markus the Badger, and I haven't seen him since I left the training compound. I had to because of him."

"And Robotnick was behind all this?"

"A good portion of it, but not all. He shelled out the money, Snively saw where the use went. You see, actually the way I see it, General: Snively had other plans that his uncle wasn't to keen on. Possibly the destruction of him. Now don't quote me, and don't take this as the written truth, but some of the things going on behind the currents from us was mostly set up by him and not his uncle.

"I hate to say it but Snively ended up winning over everyone. Our hero and our villain; all in the same short body."

His bed was neat.

Surprisingly he slept soundlessly through the night to keep it that way. Rubbing his long nose, he opened his eyes to the bright sunlight filling his room broadly through the ceiling high window. The glimmering black screens of his computer was like food for his waking mind, enticing him with a richness that he imagined as morning breakfast, calling to him to come away from the bed.

To do his work.

For it was his day...it was Snively's day once more.

And we hear the arpageo of the kettle drums at the end. Actually a dark minor chord from a string section in my head. Sad to say, again, it will be another time before I return with more. Aleutian is next, the morning after his re-touch and renewed commitments. But with all new perservernces, they don't come fast, the don't come easy, and Aleutian is still fighting within himself if this what he "really" wants to do. And the Prowers get to know more of the truth.

Last notes about this chapter. I had to be very tight-lipped of how much I wanted to expose about the battle and the cause of Emi-La's death. See, I aim to write that whole story in it's entirity and only have the explanation of it now only as a hint.

So again, please review. It keeps me strong and committed. Also rip this chapter apart if you see so fit. Also tell me how my wordings and sentence structures are coming along. Thanks.

And "Killing Monsters" has been resubmitted as an edited version. So enjoy it again.