Cry of the Wolf

Dawn broke over Mobius, bestowing shimmering rays of rosy pink and sandy yellows over a placid stream. Marking its path as it meandered through a meadow of thin and translucent grass which swayed gently in the breeze. The last beautiful spot before the dust, metal, and filth of Robotropolis began. It was pristine, perfect. Almost like a work of art stuck in a junkyard. I let the thought sink in as nascent rays touched skin, soothing my core.

I thought maybe I would stay awhile to rest. Look at Robotropolis. Sally knew it wasn't good for her either physically, with all the smog in the air, or mentally. But that was her duty. The Freedom Fighters and her would be the ones to retake Robotropolis. After all, they had all lived there once before and they possessed the drive to reclaim it. Just not today or even tomorrow. But someday soon. Hopefully this time with a few extra allies in the fight.

But I find myself not being the only one looking back. Snively maintains a sojourn by himself, gazing forlornly at the city which had been his personal demesne only yesterday. There's a perverse sense of karmic justice at play, for him to have been doled out a similar fate to what his Uncle and he inflicted upon us all those years ago. Curiosity getting the better of me, I followed his gaze to the skyline once celebrated by travellers, now feared and hated by all who laid eyes upon it. I wondered if liberation would ever rid the stigma Robotnik had imposed upon it. Then I saw where Snively's eyes really rested, Command Central. "It was my home," Snively mouths as he stares, blinking back a wellspring of tears.

There's an old saying from Mobius's darker, less-civilized past: To torment someone, take them to paradise and let them enter through its gates. Then take them away to the darkest pits of Tartarus. For not only will they suffer the pain of the flesh, but the agony of knowing what they almost had.

Like so many others, I had disregarded the saying as an 'old wives' tale' when I first heard of it. Only now do I realize how true it really is. My deft tongue ended his career, resulting in abandonment by his all-powerful patron and his overnight demotion from 'penúltimo' of Robotropolis to prisoner of the Freedom Fighters.

But what I felt wasn't vindication. No, nothing could vindicate what Snively did. Even if he repented. Even if he recanted every seditious word that passed through his lips. Even if he confessed every bit of skulduggery. Even if he dedicated every waking moment of every day to making restitutions to his innumerable victims. It wouldn't be enough to shift even one granule of blame from his litany of crimes.

"Yeah, mine too," I whispered under my breath. As strange and disgusting as it seemed, I could empathize with his position. I could muster a twinge of pity, albeit one that was buried deep within a healthy heap of disgust. Especially so when I recalled that accursed spire had once been his home of many years. It's odd when Snively and his Uncle existed only as tokens on the planning board. I had only thought of them with cold, stony-hearted detachment. They were the enemy, after all, an obstacle to overcome. But here, given flesh and form, I had to actively remind that in spite of his cowed appearance, Snively was not a refugee, a victim like the rest of us, but a perpetrator to crimes no sane Mobian mind could comprehend.

The grass rustled from a gust of wind, bringing with it a slight hint of an oily, smoky smell that was Robotropolis. It reminded me of everything. Where I was, who I was, and who he was.

No, it wasn't his home I thought. Beasts and monsters like him don't have nice homes like us. He was a flint-hearted devil, seneschal to the greatest villain in all of Mobius. He was the enemy first and foremost. Utterly irredeemable, wicked, and cruel. He would betray us all without hesitation if it meant a reasonable shot at getting back into his Uncle's good books. I have to get this crystal-clear even if I needed to dehumanize his position.

"Take a picture," I stated flatly. "It'll last longer you know?"

At my longest line of dialogue thus far, Snively broke his gaze from the skyline and stared taciturn at his feet where he remained so long that I nearly repeated myself. Until finally, his face scrunched up in vexation and he looked up, pouting. "I hate you," he spat in a nasal tone. "You've ruined me." His voice grew softer and strained like someone had struck him in the gut. "I hope you're satisfied," he gasped before his voice cracked and caught in his throat at the intensity of my steely-gaze. The pint-sized man froze before resuming his 'thousand-yard stare' at his feet.

Snively's capture was indeed a devastating blow to Robotnik's operations, sundering with one stroke his nephew and greatest ally. It would be a turning point in our war filled with a long series of crushing, humiliating defeats for the Freedom Fighters. Now, it was up to me to get him home and secure our second true victory of the war.

''Princess, we are rested and should make a move." The chief of the Wolf Pack, a tall and imposing brown and grey wolf by the name of Lobo, interrupted. Medal for Antoine, laser rifle with a dead battery, Mobile Roboticizer, grumpy prisoner; yes, everything's in place.

"Enough resting, walk," I urged, jabbing Snively in the back with the barrel of my inoperable weapon. He shuddered at the unwelcome feel before he started trudging away.

It was slow-going as Snively had to be kept in the middle of the party to fulfil his newly appointed role as 'human shield'. It sickens me that I even think in those terms, but I could leave nothing to chance and it was clear the feeling was mutual as Snively dragged his feet the entire way.

Above our party were a half dozen surveillance orbs. Small, hovering, spheroid robots with their 'eye-cameras' protected by four metal plates closely resembling a prehistoric mollusc. Though they were unarmed, they were the eyes and ears of Robotnik. Responsible for the capture of many an unsuspecting Freedom Fighter when more combat-capable robots were dispatched. While such a situation never came to pass, we kept on guard.

Still, in spite of Snively, steady progress was made as we passed through the last weathered access road into the Great Forest which marked the boundary between my domain from Robotnik's. Sure, my 'domain' was defined on the whims of a verbal contract with a notorious traitor. Terms so shaky it could be rendered null and void at any time. But for the moment, it was mine and it felt good.

We kept silent as we passed through the remains of hastily dismantled logging operations. Already, my mind was churning at the opportunities. Provided the truce held up, there was much salvage available, especially of military-grade high explosives which were always in short supply.

Explosives; that got me thinking. What was to stop me from smuggling them through in dribs and drabs and shovel them through the 'portal' in an assassination attempt? No, that is a stupid idea. There was no guarantee it would still be there. Furthermore, it was much too inaccurate. Doing some rough mental arithmetic, I had ended-up roughly a mile-and-a-half from my intended destination. An assassination attempt would most likely result in the dictator emerging unscathed and an unacceptably high amount of collateral damage inflicted on the hapless Robian population.

A larger explosion would be more certain to carry out the deed. We could harness the 'Deep Power Stones' within the 'Ring Pool' to level Command Central… along with a sizeable chunk of Robotropolis. No, there are certain moral event horizons to which even I won't sink to.

The nature of my mysterious benefactor also bears speculation too:

Iblis, the embodiment of chaos could do it. He would have an interest in stopping Robotnik's vision of a clockwork world; unchanging, unvarying, anathema to the very concept of chaos. The trouble was, according to legend, it was sealed within the soul of Princess Elise of Soleannia an aeon ago. If it still exists now, it probably doesn't have the power to pull off something like this. At least, not without help. Chaos is after-all amplified by having other instances of itself, like other chaos wielders. There are also the Chaos Emeralds. But while it is said they possess a 'mind' of sorts they're not really sapient and are thus incapable of acting on their own volition.

Naugus himself? He could certainly pull off feats of magic and had the finesse necessary to prevent me from materializing into rock. The trouble was subtlety was not his modus operandi. Naugus never had a problem with being either hands-on, or claws-on as the case may be. Even before he went insane, he would have no ideological problem with charging in and killing Robotnik where he stood. Furthermore, he was a showboat and probably couldn't resist showing himself if only to protest my poor rendition of him. It was unsurprising then that hubris was the cause of the wizard's demise many years ago when he vanished in an 'accident' involving the Zone of Silence. I'm certain he has no physical presence in Mobius and certainly not in the heart of Robotropolis.

The Source of All could be it. King Maximillian likened it to a primaeval building block of life. The last of its kind, carefully preserved and stored in the form of a sentient golden pool within a secret room of the castle by our ancestors. Supposedly, it served as a guiding voice for the acting patriarch or matriarch of the Acorn line. As an unwritten part of the coronation procedure, a prospective heir had to be deemed 'worthy' via a ritual involving the pool and … that's about all I know.

It's frustrating. Sally was not deemed at the time to have the maturity necessary for the full details. Fortunately, Sally's forebears had foreseen the likelihood of their descendants mucking about and imbued three artefacts with the source in case access to the pool was ever lost. They are the Sword of Acorns, which I am apparently unworthy to wield; the Crown of Acorns; and the Ring of Acorns. The first was lost with King Acorn in his banishment and the other… we don't talk about what happened.

Theoretically, it's possible that some fourth hitherto unknown cosmic entity had taken an interest in me, but I doubt it. I think I've covered all the bases. What I do know is that whoever this entity was, it was related to the Acorn Kingdom's past and that gives me some ideas I could follow up on…

Eventually, our travels took us to a welcoming tree cover where true to the dictator's word, the surveillance orbs made no attempt to progress past. "We've made it," I announced just as the sun was starting to set. I was actually starting to feel quite comfortable and leaned against a good tall tree to drift off into sleep when Lobo rudely interrupted my snooze.

"Princess, from personal experience you never achieve a victory this big without running into some bad blood," Lobo corrected, snapping me from the lull of security. "Don't look now. She'll notice"

She? I mouthed.

"A red vixen watching us. Is she one of yours?" he asked.

"Is she about my height? Short-haired like mine and a yellow-bow on-top?" I inquired.

"Yes"

I blanched, froze, and swallowed.

There was only one person that I knew of that would fit that description. Fiona Fox, an unabashed, 'professional' bounty hunter of Robotnik. While never far behind was ... oh no. I cursed the ill-defined wording of my agreement with Robotnik. I merely said no machines. He was still free to unleash his handful of Mobian agents against us.

"Don't react, if you can. I don't think she knows we know she's there."

"Who's she?" Lobo asked.

"Working for Robotnik."

Lobo nodded in acknowledgement. "We'll outflank her. The tricky part is that our heavy weaponry was confiscated. But you have yours, don't you?"

"It's inoperable, dead battery," I cautioned.

"She won't know that."

"She's not the problem. The trickiest part will be Scourge. Wherever she is, he's not far behind. He'll track us like a bloodhound. We'll have to double back and lay an ambush for her. Then bait him in."

"Who's Scourge?" Lobo asked worriedly.

"It's a mystery. He claims he's from an alternate world where he was the leader of a group of terrorists called the Suppression Squad. All you need to know is he's nearly as fast and as strong as Sonic."

"How do we stop him?"

I paused and considered. Underground. Narrow confined spaces would negate his speed. The same way the old subway tunnels did for Sonic. If I engaged him in the old Freedom Fighter HQ, familiar ground. I had a fighting chance. "How fast can you travel?" I asked Lobo.

"With Snively or without him?"

"He doesn't weigh very much and can be carried," I noted.

"About ten miles an hour," he ascertained.

"You're exhausted. The terrain will slow you down and don't you require a break?"

"I could say the same for you. Being soft city folk, you underestimate our ruggedness. We're more than capable of maintaining the pace," he declared.

I nodded. "I estimate it will take us about four hours to reach the ambush site. We had best make it there at sunrise which is about 6:46 a.m. so we'll need to move out at about-"

"About 2:46 a.m.," Lobo confirmed.

"I'll need your pack's help to scrounge up a few supplies before we'll be ready." Lobo nodded, directing his pack to gather the necessary. Soon, like clockwork, a steady pile of military-grade, plastic explosives was accumulated before me. All while I sat in horrible anticipation.

I had escaped one of the most nefarious villains in all of Mobius with nothing but my wit and yet he still outsmarted me. No, he had done what any sane and reasonable leader would do. Lay a trap. I had caused this on myself. I had allowed impulse instead of rationality to guide my decision making. Knothole was always in danger, but if we were destroyed because of my carelessness, not even our slim chance of surviving this ordeal could be blamed for it.

Well done Sally you've certainly found the most suitable candidate for your replacement.

Soon, the sun had set and we were off. The ground ahead was nearly pitch-black, illuminated only by dim starlight. I could barely see where I was going and had to rely upon Leeta, Lyco's identical twin sister and their best tracker, to navigate forward to the cliffs.

"Nearly there. Peel-off, double back and ambush her," I whispered to Lupe, a lanky grey female wearing gold anklets. She nodded, splitting away from the main body along with several of her pack mates. And shortly thereafter came the sounds of a scuffle, bushes rustling, growling, and hollering.

I ran. Lobo followed shortly behind over to where Fiona Fox, a reddish-brown vulpine struggled with her assailants, clawing and biting. Drawing my lips into a grim line, I clenched my fists till my knuckles were hard tightened bumps and slugged the sellsword in the gut with every ounce of hatred I could muster. There was no playing around. My entire body mass was thrown into the weight of the blow, leg lifting off the ground. Fiona was knocked down with a sputtered grunt and I twisted her arms to restrain her.

As Fiona gasped for breath, I held her precariously. Tight enough to make sure she wouldn't escape but loose enough so as not to cause undue pain. Lobo caught up and held his arms out. "Allow me." With a snort, he kicked Fiona in the knees causing her to curse, stumble, and face-plant. Then, he grabbed a hold of her jerking head with one hand and another on her squirming body and snapped her neck. Fiona twitched and went slack. I gaped.

"Was that really necessary?" I asked after recovering from the shock.

"She was a traitor, princess. Of course, it was necessary. I had to be expedient with dispensing justice," Lobo elaborated. "As you were saying, we require her body for bait. Do you require any assistance?"

Lobo's eyes narrowed. They were rigid, cold, hard. I knew he knew that was not what I meant. I met his amber eyes with my own. "No," I stated emotionlessly. Idiot. If I had been a little less sleep-deprived, I would have realized my new allies would think differently from me. But it was too late for that.

I lifted an arm over the neck and hefted Fiona up. It was harder than I expected. There's a certain extra weight to a corpse, something even an unconscious body doesn't have. It took a little doing, but I managed to accommodate my new centre of gravity with Lupe's help.

"Your first time?" Lupe asked sympathetically.

"Not the first time," I huffed in reply.

As we lifted the body together, Fiona's neck hung at an obscene angle. Her eyes stared and her mouth drooped open. I readjusted her head, only to have it flop to some new and equally terrible position. I cursed, fidgeting till I got her head nestled over my shoulders. It was an uncomfortably intimate position and I felt a creeping embarrassment that made me quicken my steps as I made a beeline for the cliffs.

"Yeesh, sorry," I whispered to Fiona as her eyes started to turn milky. My apology was inane, but I felt like I had to vocalize some sort of apology, and that weak fare would have to suffice.

"You are very brave. I can't imagine just what you're going through," Lupe remarked as I continued staring at our destination. I didn't have the heart to tell her I was witnessing my second death in less than forty-eight hours.

"It's fine, really. Almost there," I hissed.

Barely visible as a dark triangle at the base of a sheer cliff was an old tree stump. The camouflaged entry point to an old warren of tunnels set within a limestone cave; Freedom Fighter HQ. Our former base before encroaching robots forced us to rebase back to Knothole. Though it was not in regular use, it served as an overnight rest-stop and held some basic supplies. But most importantly, it came equipped with a working generator and a security room with a live feed of cameras.

Starting up the generator, I booted up the old security system and watched lights and security monitors come to life. Many of the screens displaying static where their cameras had either degraded from lack of maintenance or been cannibalized for parts. Fortunately, there were still enough left-over for a good view of the abandoned base. Watching the screens fills me with nostalgia. It was a simpler time. Back when success only meant sending back enough supplies to keep the population going. Back when we weren't trying to fight a war my parent's lost. But I couldn't stop to reminisce. Not when we had a powerful chaos wielder breathing down our necks.

I supervised the Pack to set-up our bountiful but finite supplies of explosives at pre-arranged points, putting into effect pre-existing contingency plans designed to exploit Robotnik's unwavering commitment to the 'sunk-cost fallacy'. We would attempt to draw in as many droids as possible towards a 'Kill Zone', followed thereafter by collapsing entire load-bearing section to take down as many droids as possible. While such a situation never came to pass, Sally had drilled the invasion scenario so many times that it took only a little going and some modifications to make it come to life.

That is how I found myself with the task of running back and forth down familiar passageways, supervising the allotment of our substantial but finite number of explosives. It was nerve-wracking, but the opportunity to defeat one of Robotnik' most formidable Mobian agents was an opportunity too good to pass up. The finishing touches involved using Fiona's corpse to 'scent-bait' the traps.

Finally, I was left with the enviable task of burial duty. "Well uh," I said, holding Fiona over a pit, "well, I'm sorry you had to die and wow, I can't believe I'm explaining myself to a corpse." With that brilliant eulogy, I dropped her below, turned and walked away.

Having completed our preparations in record time we crammed into the security room to spring the trap a short two-way radio, salvage from Fiona's gear. The perfect means of reeling in her partner. Do I really have to do this again? I gulped, pushing down on the handset. "Fiona? Where are you?" the radio crackles to life with a tone, not unlike Sonic's. Except that it had that subtle harsh undertone.

I lowered my voice to a baritone. "I'm Ixis Naugus and I have your little lady-friend here."

"Naugus? Eggman says yous supposed to be some kinda wizard? You speak like a girl. Oh wait, you're a girl and not even like the Alicia from my world. If you've harmed her in any way…" Mentally I cursed myself for putting up such a poor act. But I didn't let his obvious misogynist remarks faze me.

"If you ever intend to see your little friend again, come alone," I hissed, before cutting him off and leaving him without any opportunity to make a raunchy joke at my expense. We waited. It wouldn't take long. Scourge may have been lazy to a fault, but Fiona and he were practically inseparable. A regular Bonnie and Clyde duo. He would come for her.

I kept my eyes peeled on the security monitor. With as many blind spots there were, he could already be inside and we would be none the wiser. Minutes later, a trap went off. The noise reverberating down the tunnels. "He's here," I whispered.

He had chosen a different entrance from the one we baited. But it didn't matter. The narrow corridors were mined at strategic intervals. He would get hit no matter which way he ran. Another tremor came. This time nearer. It was infuriating being left in the dark. My eyes flicked over the screens trying to catch a glimpse of my foe. Then, in the corner of my eye, I spotted him in one of the former bunk-rooms.

Yes, this was working. Scourge was interminable. Chaos wielders like him could use Power Rings to soak up normally lethal blows. But from what I could tell he was definitely hurting. The green hedgehog was smouldering, quills blackened from explosions. His sunglasses were shattered and his customary greaser jacket was reduced to tatters. With each booby trap, the green hedgehog seemed to grow increasingly frenzied. He raced one-way than the next, following the false scent-trails of his deceased partner. But at no point did my greatest fear come to pass; the hedgehog withdrawing, regrouping. Instead, he stayed the course. Yes, we had the battleground under control.

Within the former training room, Scourge halted and glared up at the camera. His mouth shifted and another major short-coming with the security system was that it lacked sound. So, it was impossible to tell what he was saying. But the rude gesture he made required no translation. He knew. Scourge backtracked in the direction of the security room in a decent imitation of his counterpart's spin-dash.

"He's coming. Get ready," I announce to my allies. It was much too soon. Worst still, it lent credence to the theory that he had been in our base before. I chewed on my tongue and reassessed the situation. Just two booby traps left between him and us.

The ground trembled.

The next would be our final contingency, an explosion large enough to release a measured but unstoppable torrent of water from the spring above. The security room shudders. My teeth chatter together. The overhead lights flicker. At once, the entire field of security footage was replaced by static before going blank entirely. After what seemed like an eternity, my world stops shaking. "Everyone okay?" A collection of scattered moans, groans and thumbs-up alleviated my worst fears. No one was seriously hurt in the last explosion. Nobody I cared for anyway. My eyes fall upon Snively who throws his arms up.

"I'm alive if anyone cares," he moaned. I roll my eyes. Him I feel no pity for. On the contrary, I felt an almost visceral pleasure watching him get his comeuppance, if only a little.

Rebooting the security system was nerve-wracking. Every moment wasted was an opportunity for Scourge to bear down upon us. At first, nothing happened. But a little trick I learnt from Rotor called the 'percussion-tap' worked wonders, revealing … zilch. An entire field of screens displaying nothing but static. If I had I would have to do so the old-fashioned way.

I stepped out of the security room, a trickle of water ran towards me. I swallow, my ears picking up nothing but running water as I stared into a partially collapsed tunnel. Natural sunlight peeked through the cracks where the explosion had torn the ceiling asunder. The Pack accompanied me, but I cautioned them to hold back and salvage what they could before the place flooded.

As I went further along, the freezing cold water rose from ankle to knee-deep. There Scourge was. Incredibly, though the explosion had shifted several tons of rock, he was still very much alive. He floundered in the water on shattered legs, some distance from the epicentre where he had been tossed like a ragdoll. I knew that in spite of his current state, he would recover given enough time.

I couldn't let that happen.

I pinched my nostrils. I took a deep breath, threw my legs out from under me and ducked below the surface of the water. The current was stronger than anticipated, dragging me a few feet along the bottom before I could regain myself. I emerged with a big splash, hacking and coughing. I slapped my chest to release inhaled water before stalking towards him. As I approached, my opponent's form seemed to coalesce into something ... breakable. I was home, he was here. A single imperfection to what might be the last free stronghold in all of Mobius. It would be too easy to rectify that error. All I had to do was kill. Kill like vicious, cruel Lobo.

"Look at how we live because of you," I seethed. "Look at how we hide, fear, and die because of you. You earn no pardon till we're free." I heard Scourge beg as I stalked toward him. But his pleas were muffled by the sound of running water and fell upon deaf ears as I unslung my weapon. I made a swing for his head and connected. A tremor travel ran through its length and a loud sickening crack tears through the air as metal met bone. He jerked at the weight of the blow, before falling face first with a splash.