Author's notes:
Hello, and welcome back to my story. I feel this chapter is where the story is starting to pick up as the events I planned at the beginning are starting to unfold. Sorry, this was late, as I had to finish my course work before I could post anything. I have been working tirelessly on it, so I apologise once again for the late update, although, now that the summer holidays have officially started for me, it will be easy to get new content out. So, I hope you guys can forgive me enough to enjoy this chapter?
Chapter 3:
Ash, metal, and debris exploded across the land, leaving dust clouds and fire in its wake. Both human and metal bodies littered the war-torn ground, abandoned by their fellow troops as they tried to advance towards the opposing fortress. However, despite their vast numbers of soldiers, the robots lacked morale and were merciless in their counter-attack.
Shadow snorted, crossing his arms as he stared at the scene. It was like watching an elaborate set of dominoes toppling over one by one, seemingly never an end in sight. He was surprised how long they had survived like this; following orders of dictators and never asking why. It had always reminded him of mindless drones, sharing the same coding despite their outward appearance. A very disappointing reality for those who prided themselves on false claims of freedom and individuality. It was communism in its finest. He almost felt pity for the pathetic race if they didn't willingly partake in violence and blood-shed.
"Why have you stopped?" The annoyed, yet slightly curious, tone of the Commander filtered through his wrist communicator. He tensed, trying not to let out the shiver upon hearing that monster's voice so close. Managing to hold back the curses with some difficulty, he took an inaudible breath to calm himself before smirking.
Be the weapon they have always wanted you to be.
"Just admiring the view. It is rare to witness your minions fall in battle. I wanted to see your men fail before I show them how it's done," he sneered, hopefully unsettling the Commander with his chilling words. More than anything, he wants to skate into the chaos and assist the opposite team. To show these mortals every bit of the pain and suffering he and his brother had endured over these fifty long years, but knew, he couldn't. One misstep and the defenceless hedgehog will be punished faster than he could say 'Chaos Control.'
With a roll of his eyes, he tried not to snap at the man as he emerged from the bushes. He ducked and rolled, using his superior speed to sneak towards the force field.
A loud metallic wine came from his left, and Shadow leapt into the air and rolled out of the way so he wouldn't get crushed by a large, metallic frame. In retaliation, he spread his fingers, a manic grin spreading across his face. Dark energy crackled from his skin, buzzing with electricity.
The robot stood no chance as it fell, optics shuttering off to the image of the dangerous creature leering over him, menacingly.
Foliage crunched under sneakered-clad feet as the figure navigated through forest-like terrain. Eyes darted from one way to another as he hurried along the, barely visible, path that had been abandoned through time. His powerful frame was tense, muscled hands cradling a piece of tech he never remembered the name of.
A few moments later, the figure came to, what appeared to be, a dead end. All around him, trees and brushes alike stood proudly, stopping him from advancing any further. However, the figure knew better. With a quick glance around, he made sure no one had managed to sneak up on him before kneeling down to pick up, what seemed to be, a random protruding root amongst many others. A swift pull downwards revealed a slight whirring sound coming from below it, before it started to open.
Stray leaves, branches, and mud moved across the contraption as it slid across to reveal a ladder, which he began lower himself down upon. Once he was down enough, he quickly pressed a button, placed on the nearest wall, causing it to slide back into place, leaving him in the dark.
A small fox kit perked up at the sound of footsteps coming from the corridor. His hands paused in their task, causing a screw to fall out as his makeshift tool was removed. "Knuckles?" He asked, biting his lip apprehensively.
There was a moment's delay as he waited for the reply he hoped would come, although his logic seemed to take a back seat in this terrible place.
The primary habitats of this world called themselves 'humans.'
At first, he was excited with the prospect of interacting with the same race as the doctor, although it quickly died. It soon became clear that they did not share the same sentiment, choosing to either attack them on sight or run away. They had barely escaped from being shot; although Sticks had been nicked by a stray knife, trying to protect Tails from being taken by a task force known as the 'police.'
Because of this, they shied away from human interaction, keeping to woodland and other remote areas around the large city. Within the forest, they had found an old underground bunker with tasteless rations of food that paled in comparison to its counterparts of this day and age. The beds were old and rickety, resembling cots more than anything permanent, and the scarce tools he found were rusted with age and disuse.
It wasn't much, but it was better than sleeping outside, scavenging for scraps of food and being hunted down like rabid animals. The small fox shuddered, hoping to never go back to living how they did the first few days of being abandoned on this terrible planet.
He missed his home. The lush fields that seemed to stretch for miles, the seaside just outside his front door, and the only danger being that of the doctor's predictable shenanigans. How should he have known following Knuckles to get back his emerald would leave to such adventures?
Speaking of Knuckles. He turned in his seat, taking the proffered item from his palm, a question shining in his blue irises. "You're late," he acknowledged, a hint of concern creasing his forehead.
The one called Knuckles chuckled, hand going up to smooth back his dreadlocks. "Yeah, kind of had to take the scenic route. Almost got seen," he admitted, reluctantly, eyes darting to the side. Blue eyes narrowed, but he didn't say anything and went back to his task.
It was unfair that Knuckles and Rogue had to risk going out there to run errands while he stayed safe within the confines of the borrowed base. He knew he was putting their lives at risk, but it was essential if they had any hope of getting back to their homeworld.
They couldn't count on the doctor anymore as he seemed to have his own agenda as soon as he realised what planet they were on, leaving them with Tails' biplane and their own brains to come up with a solution. And, as he hated to admit it, the only way to get back is through the way they came.
Replicating the incident with the Chaos Emeralds.
But, first, they had to find them and retrieve them. As far as he knew, the doctor had two in his possession, Tails held three, and some organisation held the final two. They had been after those for weeks, thinking to bargain with the doctor later when there was no more to be retrieved. First, though, they had to get the one permanently held within GUN's base.
With his hands working on autopilot, he managed to finish the device and he turned it on with a flourish of colour that seemed to light up the dingy room. The device chirped happily, the little lights flashing on the screen's circular grid as it scanned the area.
"It works," he called, head tilting up to blink at the sight of Knuckles almost spilling hot tea all over himself over the small kitchenette. The yellow fox blushed, stuttering out a half-assed apology for startling the Echidna, who quickly ignored him. He abandoned his task, rushing over to stare at the tiny detector.
"Um, Tails? I think it still has a few bugs. It's detecting nine Chaos Emeralds, not seven," he spoke up, confused by the discovery. Tails made a non-comical noise, turning to blink at the screen several times to only get the same result. He was right.
Two dots were where his bag was, safely concealing the yellow and purple gem within their possession, plus the master emerald kept under the Echidna's bed. Two more were far away, where the doctor seemed to be camping out. Another was going towards it at a fast pace, leaving two more dots within the human compound nearby that were one should only be.
It seemed impossible, but yet it was there, gleaming in front of them like a living being. Unlike the others, this one would flicker in and out of the radar, although when it was there, the dot seemed the brightest out of them all. "Knuckles? Does this world have their own version of the Chaos Emerald?" He asked, racking his brain for a plausible explanation.
The question remained unanswered though as a head peeked into the room, a dishevelled Sticks waving her arms in a distressed manner. "The aliens are moving again. Half the base has just upped and vanished!" She announced loudly, panic lacing her voice.
The pair looked at each other, nodded, before leaping into action. They had to make this time count. They could worry about the spare power source when they have encountered it.
The large man gleaned at the screen, a pleased smirk playing on his lips as he sat back in his reinforced chair. The sound of his victory made him giddy with pleasure as the foreign soldiers were being massacred by his minions.
They would pay dearly for stealing from him. For taking away his greatest achievement. For what they did to them. Yes, he will make them wish they were never born. It had been his drive for years. To get back to this useless piece of rock and reclaim what was his.
"Er… Doctor. He's here. The one from the stories," a nervous yellow robot entered the room, ringing his servos together nervously, his whole frame shaking from fear.
The smirk widened. "Excellent!" He announced, getting up with a flourish. His chair hovered a few paces behind him from the momentum. "Let's give him a spectacle he will never forget."
Beaming, he reached over and pressed a button on his monitor. "Bocce, release the prototype!" He spoke into the mic. It was followed by an anxious confirmation accompanied by the sound of heavy metal being dragged across the floor.
Knuckles knew something was not right as he stepped within range of the base. The air buzzed with energy, making his fur stand tall, and his nerves to be on full alert. It was wrong, unnatural to him, who was so used to the balance provided by nature and the master emerald. This place was contaminated by negative Chaos energy. It was full of negative emotions that made any empath want to jump off the nearest cliff.
Tightening his namesakes, he grits his teeth, wishing at least Rogue was here with them. She was the best at infiltration and theft out of all of them, and yet, when the opportunity to raid the place arose, she had to be on the other side of the city, getting supplies. Even delaying the mission for an hour or two for them to return was a very bad decision. By the time they made it back, the human's may have returned, leaving them wondering if they would get an opportunity like this ever again. He knew to go into the base with only Tails was a bad idea, but they just had no choice.
Sticks was unpredictable around technology, claiming that all electric devices were the embodiment of evil. And, while Knuckles didn't share her sentiment, he couldn't help, but feel, she had the right to see them that way. The doctor's minions had stormed her village, crushing her burrow and setting the forest ablaze. The wooden structures, humbly labelled as the inhabitants' homes, stood no chance against the flames, making her homeless. She watched as her family and friends were taken to become roboticized, while others burned, screaming for help.
With no one to turn to, she had wandered aimlessly around the forest until she collapsed from exhaustion and was found by Knuckles. He helped her heal and quickly learned her story. Seeing nowhere to go, he had offered her safe haven on his island in exchange for help in getting information on the doctor and his army. It was only meant to be temporary until he had got the master Emerald back, but she ended up staying in the end, swearing vengeance on the machines that took her family and home away from her.
Even when Tails came to the island, she was still skittish around his inventions despite his countless re-insurances. This resulted in her and Tails being at odds when technology was involved, so much that he banned everything electrical, except his miles electric and biplane from the island, unless it was an emergency. Even now, she refuses to go near places filled with technology that wasn't Eggman's base.
This is why Sticks had hung back, skulking in the trees of the small woodland, using a pair of old-fashioned binoculars she had found when exploring the bunker last week. Her trained eye was watching the entrance suspiciously for any activity from within. That way, she could warn them in advance through the walkie-talkies Tails had hastily whipped up so they could communicate. The range was small, but the signal was clear enough to understand. Before leaving, Tails had vowed to get working on a more effective device once he was finished with this. Being able to communicate with Rogue, while she was out, would set all their minds at ease.
Coming to his resolve, Knuckles strode forward, coming up to the wall that enclosed the base. Tails was trailing behind him, using the Echidna's body to hide his distinctive yellow fur that gleamed in the afternoon sun.
His head swept from side to side, nervous, yet excited, at the prospect of being that much closer to getting home. From time to time, he would consult his tracker, not wanting to miss anything.
A small squeak sounded as he was lifted up and onto broad shoulders. His arm quickly encircled Echidna's neck as he glared at the back of the red furrie's head. The older male started to scale the wall, using his Knuckles to gain purchase to its rough surface. His shoes bounced lightly against the Echidna's chest as he began to climb, although the yellow fox didn't seem to notice, lost in his thoughts.
This was the third time this week the older one had made him ride on his shoulders, and while he hated the feeling of being treated like a small child, he couldn't argue with the logic of it.
Upon their arrival, the soldiers had been more volatile towards the others, while they would only try to stun Tails. Whether it was underlying guilt due to his childish appearance, or because they thought he would be more easily manipulated by the show of kindness, he had no clue. However, Rogue had suggested that he would act as their last resort, portraying him as nothing more than mutated fox by keeping his ability to fly a secret.
Knuckles had quickly agreed, knowing that it would keep him safe and stump the humans enough should they ever get captured. Regardless of this, he missed flying. Growing up, he was teased for his mutation, resulting in having no friends, until a young rabbit called Creme had convinced him otherwise. She had taught him that he should be embracing his uniqueness and to use it for good deeds. Oh, how he missed his friend and her keen sense of noticing the good in people.
Without warning, the Echidna lept from the wall, falling behind a small outhouse, narrowingly avoiding the sweeping camera before it could detect them. Tails yelped at the unexpected movement, eyes closed, as he tightened his grip to an almost chokehold. Knuckles lifted his arms, trying to pry his startled friend from his back while muttering an apology for the rough treatment.
"I'm fine," Tails reassured, shooting his friend an annoyed look before consulting his device once more. "This way," he instructed, tilting his head, before rushing over to a set of bins that they could hide behind. Knuckles sighed, and followed, shaking his head slightly.
He couldn't wait to get back to their home world, if only, to stop Tails from being so jumpy all the time. It really worried him how the kit was coping with the situation. Even though he tried to keep a brave front, Knuckles knew better that his friend was not alright, and that made him more protective over the kit more than ever. He just hoped something good would happen to re-spark the hope in the younglings eyes before he broke from the strain.
Shadow spinned-dashed the forcefield once more, attempting to reach a speed that would either confuse the mechanism into letting him pass through or overloading it with the strain of the force being applied against it. Without warning, his third attempt smashed through, making the contraption spark and the blue shimmer to flicker and then die.
What was left of the GUN members flocked towards the fortress, wanting to arrest the murder of their comrades. Their angry yells and mannerisms were akin to old-fashioned villagers finding out there was a witch poisoning their crops and stealing their water supply. Robots toppled and fell prey to the mob, no longer having the advantage of retreating to somewhere safe.
Using the commotion, Shadow slipped away, finding a large window to climb into. Spotting one high on the roof, he used his hover shoes to reach a draining pipe and used it to hual himself up onto the window sill. With no problem at all, he slipped in, bypassing the detectors and lazers placed beneath it as he worked his way through the silent room in order to find the stair.
His first instinct was to go down into the basement, knowing that was the best place to hold prisoners. The reinforced walls would stifle the screams of its captives, leaving their cries unheard and their pleas unanswered.
The sound of uncontrollable sobbing could be heard from within one of the many cells the cellar held. It was more of a dungeon than anything with several human occupants. Red eyes darted from one human to another, noting there was a variety of teenagers and adults. No children, he quickly discovered interestingly, filing the observation away for later,
The captives were either wallowing in their self-pity, trying to assure others in low whispers, or possessed a lost look in their eyes. The sight tugged at his heartstrings, but he chose to ignore it. His gaze moved over them mechanically, scanning for his objective.
It was near the end of the row that he found the woman, dressed in a torn hospital gown that was two sizes too big for her. Blond hair was long and tangled, while her make up was smeared across her face. She was chained to the wall, knees drawn up to her chest, as one hand fingered the thin layer of dust that coated the floor of her cell.
Awkwardly, he stood in the hallway, taking in the sight of her before charging his hand with Chaos Energy and blasting the barrier separating her from the rest of the complex. The sound of metal hitting concrete made her jump, head snapping up, her eyes wide in surprise.
"Human," he stated, voice flat and his tone cold. His arms came up in a subtle attempt to shield himself from the cold breeze that blew through the fortress's lower levels. "Stand up. The Commander has sent me to retrieve you," he continued, red eyes glaring at her. What made her so special he had to risk his neck for anyway? He didn't tell Shadow that there were more humans in here.
A look of confusion passed over her features before settling into one of fear and a hint of anger. She sprang to her feet, pulling her hands in a defensive position. Her bluish-grey eyes watched his every move warily, her body ready to flee, forgetting the fact that the chains were already straining from her stance, yet she didn't seem to care.
She had heard rumours of the ultimate lifeform who did the Commander's bidding but never saw him in person. The stories that floated around GUN portrayed him as a monstrous figure who killed whoever got in his way and didn't care who got hurt in order to complete his mission. A mindless bean who's sanity was slipping away on the best of days.
They say he was as old as time and possessed great power. The people rumoured him to be a gift from the devil, plighting humanity for their sins and to spread evil and chaos wherever he goes. There were countless theories about why people were scared of him. His cold and distant tone. Those piercing red eyes that stared into a person's soul. They say that, if you stared too long enough, you would go mad. Others say that it'll drive you insane with guilt as it brings your darkest moments to the surface, snuffing out all happiness and light within your soul.
She had never believed them. Those theories were nothing more than exaggerations and folk tales made up to scare the new recruits.
But the small figure that stood there, arms crossed and glancing around in boredom, was close to that of a child who had been told he couldn't have ice cream for dinner. If it was any other setting, this may have looked comical, but within a dungeon filled with people being held against their will, the sight unsettled her. It made her skin crawl at the casualness he displayed towards the inhumane environment. As if he was used to such sights and found them to be bothersome more than horrific.
Those crimson eyes were duller than the story suggested. They possessed a fit of deep anger, true, but there was also sorrow lurking in the background. A sort of pain that only presented itself after long years of loss and heartache. The owner resigned themselves to a situation they hated but could not do anything about.
He blinked as a look of determination crossed her face. Had he not pointed it out, she wouldn't have noticed these things, but he did. Standing there, he looked like a lost child, waiting for orders to follow more than debating what to do. The way he had his arms crossed over his chest looked more like a defence mechanism than an act of defiance.
"He was right," she spoke up, startling him as her voice added to the already eerie atmosphere. Red eyes stared at her as if she grew a second head. She tried not to shiver. A feeling of wrongness crept up his frame as he stared at the woman. She was suddenly not afraid of him, for some unknown reason, and it unsettled him more than he liked to admit.
Without warning, an explosion from down the hall and a blue blur flashed by him, taking the opportunity to snag him in the jaw. Disorientated, he stumbled and missed the chance to defend himself as a furry arm connected with the back of his head.
TBC:
Thinking about revising Chapter 1. My friends have told me that because I can't make up my mind on a writing style, I am constantly changing it. This leads me to never be happy with a single chapter because I'm always trying to improve it. Sometimes it backs me into a corner where I just want to write the whole thing again. It really gets on my nerves how my need for perfection will never leave me satisfied. Does anyone else get like this, or is it just me? I would love to hear your thoughts.
-Anomolous123.