Chapter 4: From within

May 24, unknown year. 8:23 PM. Angel Island, emerald altar.

Silence. It was an absolute sound, the sound of nothing. It was also one of Knuckles' favorite things in the world. It was silence that he had been listening to that night. Usually, it was comforting to listen to, but on this occasion his thoughts were troubled ones. He feared for the safety of the Master Emerald.

Lately, tremors had been plaguing the island. While this was not an extraordinary coincidence, he was troubled by the fact that they had been coming much more frequently lately, and each time was more violent than the last.

His thoughts were broken by a kind, female voice saying, "You should not trouble yourself with such matters." He looked to see Tikal standing a few feet away. She, the water spirit called "Chaos", and the chao were the only other denizens on the island.

Knuckles sighed and said, "I know you're right. But if I'm just being paranoid, and if these earthquakes are just a coincidence, then at the very least, they could break up the island."

Tikal smiled. "The Master Emerald wouldn't let that happen."

Knuckles sighed, and was about to say something else, when an earthquake struck, this one the most violent the island had ever seen. The red echidna fell over backwards, landing on his tail. He looked up to see a piece of rock shake itself loose from the altar and fall towards Tikal. She was frozen in fear.

"NO!" Knuckles yelled, "Save her!"

Knuckles had never been very religious, the Master Emerald was the closest thing to a "god" that he had ever known. But in that moment, he wished for anyone, "holy spirit" or not, to save one of the only friends on the island that he had. And, to his relief, his prayer was answered.

Chaos seemed to erupt from the ground and rocket towards the offending boulder. The water spirit grabbed the huge rock in midair, and hurled it over the edge of the island. The tremor was lessening now, and he would have breathed a sigh of relief, when he heard it.

It was an undertone to the rumble of the earthquake, a quiet sound, but it was there. A voice, murderous and black, was speaking an ancient chant over and over. This is what was said: negrathea toljium, prestadij atil.

Knuckles looked over at Tikal. Her expression of pure terror told him that she heard it too. And then, just as the pain and voice Shadow had felt on the Ark vanished, so did this voice and tremor vanish.

Slowly, both echidnas got to their feet. Chaos looked around, turned into a puddle of water, and vanished. Knuckles then said, "Did you hear..."

And Tikal replied, "Yes."

"...I knew it!"

"What?"

"There is something stirring on the island."

"I agree, but not on the island."

"What? Where then?

"From within the island..."

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Knuckles is the guardian of the Master Emerald, and so is a master of its terrain, both above and below. But Angel Island is ancient and its underground catacombs are vast. Not even in the days of the Guardians were all the tunnels mapped fully.

Tikal had been right that day. Something had been stirring within the island. Something dark and ancient, something cold and cunning. Long had it lain dormant, gathering strength to return to a second life. Long had it slumbered, its armies waiting to be called into existence. Had the two Mystic Echidnas above known what had been spoken, perhaps they might have been prepared for the trials to come. But neither knew what was said, for the black speech of the Dark Echidnas had ceased to be spoken ages ago...