"I hate it here," Whip whined.

Pretzel smirked. "Really? I love it. It's so dark and cold and wet—"

"Ugggghhhh," Whip groaned, shooting her a disgusted look.

"Would you like a coat, Whip?" Amy asked sympathetically, her flashlight cutting a swatch of illumination across the snow as the turned to Whip. She'd had the foresight to pack the flashlight and a few jackets in her subspace before they left for Mystic Ruins, perhaps sensing that they'd end up traveling much farther than Central America.

Whip gratefully took the bundle of clothing, even though Pretzel knew he could handle the cold just fine. She supposed it was like how she could take extreme heat, but didn't necessarily enjoy doing so. But unlike Whip, she'd never been offered a… well, a coat wouldn't work, but like. A fan. A mini air conditioner. Something. She shot Amy a resentful look. Amy just laughed. Well fine then. See how she liked waking up to boots full of snow tomorrow morning.

"So what weird weather is it this time?" Pretzel asked, flicking snow at Whip. He shrieked and dove behind Amy. "A blizzard?" She looked speculatively up at the night sky. The stars were obscured by a blanket of grey clouds and flurrying snow, but it didn't look like a storm. Not yet, anyway.

"Actually, from what I heard they were suffering from flooding," Amy said, pulling her coat tighter around her.

"Flooding?" Pretzel echoed. "How?"

"Well, not flooding exactly," Amy amended. "You remember that the village is located near the ocean, to overlook the temple?"

"I remember. They'd relocated when I visited, but Sonic said they moved back once the Moray stopped attacking the cliffs." Her ears pricked forward. "Do you think it's the Moray again?"

"It's possible."

"What's the Moray?" Whip asked. "Is that another monster like the Dust Devil?"

"Dust Devil?" Pretzel echoed.

"The sand monster! Isn't that a cool name for it?"

"Fitting," Amy agreed with a smile.

Whip poked Pretzel. "So? Is that what the Moray is?"

"Not exactly," Pretzel said. "The Light Moray isn't a fragment. I think it was a normal moray that got mutated by Light Gaia."

"Why?" Whip looked around at the snow, wrinkling his nose in distaste. "What would Light Gaia want with a place like this?"

That… was actually a good question. An arctic ocean was hardly Light Gaia's natural habitat. So why have a temple here, and why bother making the Moray guard it? Why even have a Moray at all? Water creatures were her thing. Pretzel felt a vague itch in the back of her mind, the feeling that told her she'd had a relevant memory about this, once, which she had yet to regain. Had the Moray been hers, only to be stolen by Light Gaia? That… seemed like something he'd do. Seemed like something they'd both do, if she was being perfectly honest. Had it been her in the position of power, she would have—

Pretzel remembered crackling lava and a looming shadow and cut off that line of thought. This wasn't that timeline. This was the reality where she'd been given a second chance, a chance to redeem herself. And as for whether that was a good or bad thing… she couldn't say. She didn't know how the story of that other timeline ended. Maybe Dark Gaia was vanquished for good. Maybe the other Sonic and the other Whip were able to live happily, in peace, without storms and water monsters and the looming prospect of a return to the status quo. Or maybe not. She had no way of knowing.

They soon reached the village. It was clearly still in the process of rebuilding from the last disaster, and Pretzel couldn't blame the villagers for their hostile glares. She wouldn't be too happy about a bunch of chipper tourists casually strolling in when her home was on the brink of destruction, either. Plus it was before sunrise, which most humans did not see as good visiting hours.

While Amy and Whip tried to talk to the villagers, Pretzel made her way to the cliff and peered down. She could see the temple below the water, close enough to be visible but too deep to be accessible. It hadn't quite made it to the surface before Light Gaia shut it down. Anyone wanting to reach it would need a set of gills, and that was without taking into account that the water was likely cold enough to kill even a Mobian of Amy's hardy constitution. They'd cross that bridge later, she supposed.

Pretzel turned away from the ocean and headed back to her companions. The conversation wasn't going well, judging by the look of frustration on Amy's face, and a moment later she stormed off, while the man she'd been talking to glared at her back and made a gesture Pretzel stored away for later use. Whip, ever mature, stuck his tongue out at the man and flew after Amy.

"What's the news?" Pretzel asked.

"The Moray has been causing trouble, but they seem more concerned about a series of thefts happening in the night. Someone keeps stealing or messing with their oil and their lanterns, which is kind of a problem given how long the nights are getting." She cast a disgruntled glare over her shoulder. "And they seem to think we might have something to do with it."

"I would make a great thief," Pretzel agreed.

"Stealing is bad," Whip reminded her sternly.

"Yeah, and I'd be great at it."

"Please stop talking about how good you are at stealing," Amy sighed.

Pretzel was distracted from the conversation when something brushed against her senses, a cool and strangely familiar touch. She spun around, so distracted by the sensation she nearly missed the movement out of the corner of her eye. A tiny figure, slipping around Amy with nimble grace.

"Amy!" Pretzel warned, too late.

"What—" Amy whirled around, flashlight beam waving wildly, but the figure already had her phone in its hands and was running full speed towards the cliff. Amy took off after it. "Hey! Give that back!"

Whip zipped after her, of course, and Pretzel heaved a sigh before launching into the air and flying after them. She caught up to them at the cliff as the creature skidded to a halt, looking from its pursuers to the water below. Amy was stalking towards it with her hammer in her hands and a look of murder in her eyes, while Whip flew close behind her, fists clenched in an imitation of his favorite superheroes.

Now it had stopped moving, Pretzel could observe the creature more closely. It was some sort of reptilian humanoid, with midnight blue scales, ice blue claws, fin-like spines running down its back, and glowing pink markings on its paws and around its eyes. Its eyes were black with glowing pink pupils. Ice-blue frills adorned the tip of its long, lizard-like tail and its wrists and ankles. Its build was almost Mobian, bipedal with a large, round head and long, gangly limbs. No, not just Mobian; it looked like a child.

"Wait, don't attack it!" Pretzel yelled without thinking as Amy lunged forward. Amy stumbled to a stop, glancing up at her in surprise, and even Whip drew up short, blinking at her. Huh. Pretzel… hadn't actually expected them to listen.

"What is it, Pretzel?" Amy asked. She cast another suspicious glare at the creature, but she'd lowered the hammer slightly.

Before Pretzel could try and explain herself, the creature looked her dead in the eye, smirked, and backflipped off the cliff. Amy gasped and lunged forward too late. The three of them peered over the edge of the cliff, staring down, down, down… to where the creature had landed, perfectly unharmed, on top of— yes, that was the Moray. Was the Moray smirking at her, too? Stupid eel. It looked different now, too, more suitably Dark. Somehow it seemed more like itself, though she couldn't say how she knew that.

"Well," Amy sighed. "I guess that makes sense."

Whip gasped indignantly. "That's the bad guy! We've got to stop it!"

Pretzel frowned, studying the fragment. It hadn't attacked them, or any of the villagers, not like Hurricane and Dust Devil had. And it was far smaller than those fragments, too. Maybe smaller fragments were less aggressive? She looked at its more Mobian-like form, the way it was grinning mischievously up at them. Perhaps this one was simply… different.

"Maybe we don't have to fight this one? We still have to stop it," she added hurriedly. "Just. It doesn't seem aggressive?"

"No, it doesn't," Amy agreed. "What's your plan?"

Pretzel glanced at Whip, whose brow was furrowed.

"If you think we don't have to fight it," he said slowly. "Then… I guess we can try it your way."

"Thanks," Pretzel said, and meant it. She glanced down the cliff to the ocean below. "Um, Amy…"

Amy sighed and planted her hammer in the snow, leaning against it. "I'll sit this one out. You two be careful, alright?"

"Yes, ma'am!" Whip chirped.

"Come on," Pretzel said, and together they launched off the side of the cliff.

Pretzel spread her wings, reveling in the cool ocean breeze, before folding them and diving down. She snapped them open just before she hit the water, hovering at the fragment's eye level. The fragment smiled at her, but then it tensed as Whip arrived, eyes narrowing in suspicion. Uh oh. If it dove into the ocean with the Moray, even Pretzel wouldn't be able to catch it.

"Do you want to play a game?" Pretzel blurted out.

The fragment perked up immediately, nodding vigorously and clapping its hands. Then it narrowed its eyes again and pointed at Whip.

"He's playing too," Pretzel said firmly. "Me and him against you and the Moray. If you win, we'll leave you alone. If we win, you leave the village alone. Okay?"

The fragment pouted, but its desire to play seemed to outweigh its hostility to Whip, and at last it nodded. Then it cocked its head, motioning at her in a clear "well? you gonna explain?" gesture.

Ah. Right. Now Pretzel needed to think of an actual game they could play. A game involving her and Whip (who would not want to be in the water) and the fragment and the Moray (which wasn't able to leave the water).

"We should race!" Whip suggested excitedly.

"How are we going to do that in teams?" Pretzel asked.

The fragment made a chirping-clicking noise, not unlike a dolphin, and mimed covering its eyes.

"A blindfold race?" Whip guessed.

"That could work," Pretzel said slowly. "One person on each team is blindfolded, and the other has to guide them."

"So who's going to be blindfolded?"

The fragment chirped and pointed at Whip, before miming covering its eyes again.

"Guess it's you. And it'll have to be the Moray that's blindfolded, since it would be too easy for it to guide the fragment. Except—" she glared at the fragment. "I see what you're trying to pull. Morays navigate with smell, not sight. You need to block its sense of smell, too."

The fragment pouted and pointed at Whip's ears.

"Fine," Pretzel rolled her eyes. "You block its smell, I'll block his hearing."

"What!?" Whip squeaked. "But then how will I hear your directions?"

Pretzel gave him a flat stare. "Whip. Psychic bond?"

"Oh. Yeah." Whip fiddled with his ears, still looking uncomfortable with the idea. When Pretzel raised her eyebrow at him questioningly, he put on a look of determination. "It's okay. We can do this."

"Amy!" Pretzel called up to the cliff. "Do you think you could find some strips of cloth?" She looked down at the Moray. "Really big strips of cloth?"

Amy gave her a thumbs up and ran off, returning moments later with a massive piece of cloth and several concerned villagers. Pretzel flew up to estimate the length of cloth they'd need, and after a bit of fiddling (and some wheedling with the villagers for a knife they could borrow) the blindfolds (and nose- and earfolds) were ready. Then they rubbed the nosestrip with some particularly pungent oils, which would hopefully impede the Moray's sense of smell, and at last Pretzel flew down loaded with cloth and very grateful for the strength boost from Hurricane.

She glanced down to see that while she'd been working on the blindfolds, the fragment had gone and set up an entire obstacle course, with the help of the Moray. Strange dark purple rings marked out a course mirrored above and under the water. They looked similar to the shadow shields Pretzel made. Had the fragment created those with its powers? That was… really creative, actually. Pretzel would have to try that some time.

Now a whole group of villagers were on the cliff, watching the proceedings with interest. Dark magic really had a way of drawing in a crowd. Whip waved at them enthusiastically. The fragment was more shy, shifting uncomfortably and glancing nervously at all the people watching. Introversion, it seemed, was something that ran in the Dark side of the family. Or maybe it had realized these were the people it had been harassing for the last however many days.

"Hey," Pretzel said to the fragment as it (or he? it seemed to be projecting "he" vibes) watched her tie the cloth strips around the Moray's eyes and nose. "What's your name?"

The fragment pointed at her.

"That's—no, my name's taken," Pretzel said. "Your name's supposed to be your own."

The fragment thought for a moment, then pointed at her again.

"You want me to give you a name?" Pretzel asked, and was surprised when he chirped enthusiastically. "Uh… okay, how about…" She squinted up at the sky. It was still dark, though the horizon had started to lighten with the beginnings of dawn. She looked at the fragment again. His dark blue-black scales reminded her of the night sky. "Midnight?"

The fragment made a politely enthusiastic chittering noise which she took for a "yeah, I guess that'll work". Fair enough.

The Moray attended to, Pretzel flew up to Whip with the smaller strips of cloth. "You ready? You can still back out, if you want."

"It's fine," Whip said, smiling at her. "I trust you."

Wait. Really?

"Oh." Pretzel cleared her throat, willing her voice to stay level. "Thanks."

She carefully tied the blindfold around his eyes, then used the second strip to tie his ears down. It wasn't a perfect solution, but then she wasn't sure how well the nose blocker would work on the Moray, so it seemed fair enough. Pretzel took Whip's hand and guided him to the start point just above the Moray's nose. Below her, the newly dubbed "Midnight" was crouched on the Moray's back, hands flat on its scales.

"Ready?" Amy shouted from the cliff. "Set! Go!"

Whip and the Moray took off, Whip's speed in the air (and had he gotten faster since absorbing Dust Devil?) letting him keep pace with the bigger Moray. They were pretty evenly matched; who won would be up to the skill of the one's guiding them.

Down, Pretzel instructed, projecting into Whip's mind. No, not that far down! Left— too far left, you're— She winced as Whip ran into one of the rings. So they were solid. Okay, yes, that's good, fly straight— a bit down— up again—

The Moray was, of course, gliding through the underwater course with grace. But Pretzel noticed its movements faltering as Midnight glanced up again at the crowd. Hmm. He was easily distracted. They could use that. And Pretzel and Whip had another advantage: Whip was smarter than the average eel. Not by much, maybe, but still.

Hey, follow this, Pretzel said, and shoved an image of the entire course in Whip's mind.

Wha— Pretzel! That's cheating! Whip squawked.

Says who? How do we know Midnight isn't doing the same thing? Just keep flying, I'll get back to you in a bit.

She left Whip to his moral crisis and reached out with her mind. She could feel the Moray—would it be called the Dark Moray now if it had been the Light Moray before?—, but for the time being she ignored that and focused on the far Darker presence of the fragment. She was surprised at just how strong he was. This wasn't less energy than Hurricane; if anything, it was more. It was just manifested in a different, subtler form. Interesting.

Pretzel brushed against his mind carefully, and Midnight whipped around, nearly falling off the Moray's back. Pretzel grinned and poked him again, and this time he locked eyes with her, glaring indignantly.

You never said it was against the rules, Pretzel pointed out.

She wasn't sure how good Midnight was at comprehending words, but she could feel his annoyance nonetheless—and beneath that, his amusement. He'd probably try cheating now, too, but Pretzel didn't think they needed to win this game anymore.

Why have you been attacking the village? she asked, projecting an image of the unhappy villagers.

The response was immediate. Images of fires and electric lights, breaking up the darkness and forcing the little fragment to hide in the shadows. The image wasn't flavored with the anger that Hurricane's had; if anything, it seemed a little sad. Mostly it felt like a child pouting about having to go to bed when the sun was still up. Or more accurately, when the sun was still down.

You… want to get rid of light? Pretzel asked, not sure she'd understood correctly. She projected an image of lights turning off and a city being plunged into darkness, and immediately felt the fragment's enthusiasm. Huh.

She knew Dark Gaia had wanted to plunge the world into darkness, and it had always seemed like a suitably evil and villainous goal. But the same ideal came across very differently coming from such a young, childish mind as Midnight's. Midnight liked the darkness. He felt comfortable in it. He didn't want to get rid of the light out of hate or malice; he just wanted more time to play.

Pretzel backed away from the connection and returned her attention to Whip. He'd taken the lead, probably thanks to Pretzel distracting Midnight. The Moray was, after all, an animal; it couldn't navigate the course without Midnight's instruction, and honestly didn't have any reason to even try. Whip, on the other hand, would still try to follow the course even without clear instructions, and he'd been doing an admirable job of it. Still, as he slammed into another ring, Pretzel decided it was about time she actually helped.

Go right, she said, and even after the stunt she'd pulled a moment earlier, he immediately responded. He really did trust her. She… didn't know what to do with that. Down just a bit— okay, now up— left— this one's really low, you want to feel the ocean on your toes— now UP, quickly— left— down— up just a bit— aaand stop.

Whip grabbed onto the cliff and immediately tore off his blindfolds. He looked back in time to see the Moray touching the wall—after him—and grinned. "Ha! We won!"

Midnight stuck his tongue out at Whip, but didn't seem too disappointed at his loss.

"Can we go again?" Whip asked hopefully.

Pretzel shook her head and pointed to the horizon. "The sun's rising."

Midnight chirped sadly as the sun rose higher, the darkness of the night fading. Pretzel came to land beside him on the Moray. The rising sun cast her and Midnight's shadows long behind them, making them overlap into a greater darkness.

"Look," Pretzel said, nudging Midnight. She pointed to their shadows.

Midnight chirped delightedly. He raised his hand and contorted it into different shapes, mesmerized by the way the silhouette morphed.

"You can't have shadows without a light to cast them," Pretzel said quietly.

Midnight looked at her and cocked his head. Then who's casting me?

Pretzel blinked in surprise. "You can talk?"

Midnight's eyes crinkled in amusement. Thank you. I understand now.

"Wait—" Pretzel started, but he was already dissipating. She felt a cool rush of energy, brushing against her like a night breeze. With it came a sensation of playfulness, of waves dancing on the shore, of dolphins leaping in the sea, of a cat toying with its prey in the night, of children chasing fireflies in the dusk.

The memory this time was less fragmented, the red tint subtle enough for her to make out the cool colors of night. She watched through the eyes of a reptilian creature—one of her minions, she knew instinctively, her eyes and ears and claws across the globe—as a child tottered towards the bushes where she, in the body of her minion, hid. The child spotted her tail sticking out of the bushes and reached for it, but she tugged it back before it could be grabbed. The child pouted, disappointed. She grinned and flicked her tail out again. The child gasped in delight and reached for it again, and again she pulled it back.

Now the child became more determined, reaching into the bushes to pursue the coveted tail. She lured them deeper into the woods, where her shadows could play more freely, creating strange shapes on the ground and the trunks. The child pursued the tail a while longer, but soon they began to slow, looking around at the strange shadow shapes uneasily. A voice called, a human voice, and the child turned, calling back. She considered messing with them further, but discarded the idea. She'd already wasted enough time. Still, she gave a pout of her own as the child wandered back to their parents. Why did they have to ruin her fun?

Pretzel shook her head vigorously, the feelings of the memory clinging to her fur like burrs. Evidently Dark Gaia hadn't spent all her time wreaking destruction, but Pretzel wasn't sure if she liked this image better. She was glad it—she— hadn't actually hurt the kid, but the way it had toyed with them, luring them away from safety, messing with them through the shadows… And the most haunting part about it was how Dark Gaia had felt. It had been amused. Not malicious amusement; genuine playfulness. It hadn't seen any harm in its little game. And in a way, that was more terrifying than outright, destructive maliciousness like what she'd seen from Hurricane.

"He's gone now?" Whip asked sadly, pulling her from her thoughts.

"I guess so." Pretzel cocked her head at him. "Aren't you happy? This is the whole reason we came here. To stop the monsters, remember? And you seemed pretty mad when he stole Amy's phone."

"But…" Whip flicked his tail, scrunching up his brow in thought. "He didn't seem bad. Just confused."

Pretzel felt something new stir in her chest. Something like… pride. Whip was right. Midnight hadn't been evil. Neither had Hurricane. The fragments were just pieces of power, left without direction or purpose, acting on their base instincts. Confused, as Whip had said. And somehow… she had helped. She looked down at her hands. I understand now. That was what Midnight had said. He'd seemed… content.

Something caught her eye. She blinked and raised her arm to get a better look at it. No, it wasn't just a trick of the light; her previously dark purple fur tufts had turned the same shade of pink as Midnight's markings. She had a matching tuft at the base of her tail spike now, too, like the frill Midnight had. And her previously darker grey paws had turned a paler, bluish shade, as had the scales on her underbelly and—as her reflection in the water showed—the fur on her muzzle and inside her ears.

"Oooh," Whip said, noticing the changes as well. "Cooool. Pink is a much better color than purple. It's happier."

"I'll keep that in mind," Pretzel said dryly.

Dark Gaia's tentacles had pink-purple tufts on the end, she remembered uncomfortably, and the energy… mane? on its head had been pink. But Dark Gaia also hadn't had that pale blue-grey color Pretzel's markings had taken on. Maybe… maybe these changes weren't turning her into Dark Gaia after all?

"Well," Amy said, glancing at the villagers who were suddenly looking very interested in their visitors. Their visitors who had just made it blatantly obvious they had a connection with the thing that had been harassing the village for however long. "We'd, ah, better get going. Where's the temple, Pretzel?"

Oh. Right. They'd reached the bridge now, and Pretzel still didn't have a plan for how to cross it.

"It's down there," Pretzel said, pointing to the temple below them.

"Ah." Amy leaned over to peer into the unfathomable depths of the arctic ocean. "I don't suppose the water is nice this time of year?"

"Nice to die, maybe," one of the villagers said. Amy glared at him.

Something nudged against Pretzel's mind, and she glanced down to see the Moray thrashing in the water. It really did look different now; all glowing purple, blue, and pink, with a dragon-like head. It was honestly kind of cool. The Moray made a roaring sound and thrashed again, looking up at her almost… hopefully? Playfully? It reminded her of the dogs she saw people playing with in the park.

"I think the Moray wants to help," Pretzel observed, the gears in her mind turning. She looked at her companions. "If you guys rode on the Moray's back, I could probably create a shadow shield to protect you from the water. We could get to the temple that way." Her tail twitched nervously. Much as she liked the Moray's new look, it was far from non-threatening. She wouldn't blame Amy and Whip for not wanting to put their lives in its nonexistent hands.

But to her surprise, after a moment's thought Amy nodded. "That sounds like it would work."

"Is the Moray nice?" Whip asked, glancing nervously down at the beast, which roared helpfully.

"It won't hurt you if I tell it not to," Pretzel said, then hastily added, "Because, uh, Midnight put me in charge of it when he gave me his powers."

"Oooh," Whip said. "So the Moray is yours now?"

Pretzel hadn't thought of it that way before, but… She looked down at the Moray consideringly. Maybe if they—

"Absolutely not," Amy said immediately. "You are not bringing it home with you."

Pretzel pouted. "We already live on the coast. It would be just as happy on one side of the Atlantic as the other. And morays usually live in warmer water, so really—"

"No," Amy said firmly. "If you want a pet we can get you a fish."

Pretzel sighed and rolled her eyes. "Fine. We should go now." She started shuffling to the edge of the cliff.

"Pretzel." She froze at Amy's tone. "Pretzel, look me in the eyes."

Pretzel reluctantly looked back at her. She had the "mom look" on again, arms folded and face stern.

"Pretzel, promise me you will not bring the Moray to Empire City."

"I promise," Pretzel said slowly. "That I will not bring the Moray to Empire City."

Amy squinted at her for a moment.

"C-c'mon, Amy," Whip said through chattering teeth, arms wrapped around himself. "Can't we go now?"

Amy's expression softened. "Alright. Just let me have a quick word with these fine people—" she cast a glare at the still spectating villagers, several of whom shifted uncomfortably. "—and then we can go, okay?"

As soon as she was out of earshot, Pretzel shuffled over to Whip.

"Thanks," she whispered.

Whip grinned. "Do you think I'll get a cool monster, too?"

Pretzel remembered the Light Gaia Phoenix from Chun-Nan. That had definitely been one of his. A terrifying one of his. "Probably."

Whip leaned against her, giving her his best puppy dog eyes. "And you'll cover for me, too?"

Pretzel chewed her lip. On the one hand, terrifying fire bird. On the other hand… big dragon eel friend. "Fine," she relented. "You help me convince Amy to let me keep the Moray, I'll help you convince her to keep whatever pet abomination you find. Deal?"

Whip beamed and bumped against her. "Deal!"

They dropped the conversation as Amy walked back over, having "convinced" all the villagers to keep quiet about what they'd seen. She squinted suspiciously at their sudden camaraderie until (prompted by a mental nudge from Pretzel) Whip started shivering and chattering his teeth, dramatically throwing himself across Pretzel and begging her to share her (nonexistent) body heat. Amy still looked suspicious, but she didn't prod them, possibly because she was relying on them to fly her down to the Moray without dropping her in the ocean.

They all landed on the Moray, which had helpfully arched its back up out of the water at Pretzel's command. Pretzel cast a blanket of shadows around Amy and Whip, shielding them from the ice cold water as the Moray dove under, while she herself remained on the Moray's exposed back. To her surprise, the shadows formed into a smooth, solid shield, more like Midnight's constructs than her previous, flickery attempts. It still wouldn't be warm for those inside, but it was certainly more survivable than being exposed to the water. They reached the temple without incident, and Pretzel had a pointedly drawn out and mournful farewell with the Moray (which happily hammed up its sorrow at her departure) until Amy physically dragged her away.

Of course, the moment Whip stepped onto the central carving, the temple rumbled, lit up, and started rising to the surface. Whip and Amy squawked, nearly falling over, while Pretzel hurriedly sent soothing mental waves to the very surprised Moray. Hey, hey, it's fine, she assured it. No mean hedgehogs or cats are going to attack you this time, okay?

The temple finally settled, now floating on the surface. Pretzel peered out the window to see the villagers exclaiming excitedly to each other. She hoped Amy had paid/threatened them well, because otherwise the three of them were going to be starring on the Greenland news within the hour. Though maybe that wouldn't be such a problem. How much global attention would a random temple surfacing in Greenland attract, anyway?

"Where are we going next?" Whip asked, flying from wall to wall looking at the pictures. Pretzel barely glanced at them. She'd had more than her fill of the murals in this particular temple last time she'd visited.

"I don't know," Amy said, humming and scrolling through her phone. Presumably she was looking at articles she'd saved offline, since there was no way she had signal here. Amy's global coverage was good (she'd told Pretzel once that Tails had given her phone some maybe not strictly legal and definitely not manufacturer supported upgrades), but not that good. "There's been some weird things going on in Chun-Nan, but that might just be paranoia after Eggman made his base there. Maybe—"

"We should go to Chun-Nan," Pretzel interjected, remembering her deal with Whip. And Amy's words had made her realize another good reason to visit. "That Eggman base could have some clues to what might be going on with Sonic and Tails."

"Rouge said GUN had already done a pretty thorough search," Amy said, but her eyes were shining. "But I guess if there's a chance…"

"Chun-Nan! Chun-Nan!" Whip chanted. He leaned in and whispered to Pretzel, "Is Chun-Nan cold?"

"It's on the equator," Amy said, because Whip's whisper-voice was terrible. "So it should be pretty warm."

Darn. Oh well. Maybe Eggman's old base would have air conditioning.

"Are we agreed then?" Amy asked, looking between them both. "To Chun-Nan?"

"To Chun-Nan!" Whip cheered.

"To Chun-Nan," Pretzel agreed. Really, a little heat wouldn't be too terrible. Just as long as there wasn't any fire, it'd be fine.