The evening was beautiful – or as admirable as much as a natural event could be. The sun was not within his grasp and nor was the totality of the world's geological functions and so for the time, control over such things eluded him. And so, when the sun blasted a red carpet over the treetops and burnt everything to shades of amber and crimson, the sight disturbed him. There was a paradox in how he felt only states of perfection could be obtained unnaturally, and yet he felt it was only right that in the anarchic design of nature itself there would be sparse moments of untapped brilliance. It concerned him that a world full of living things, many of them incapable of sentience, could be lucky enough to experience even an instant of such things. It was not that they didn't deserve it – all life deserved at least moment of perfection before its end – but rather that they must subject themselves to the whims of fate. They could not control their fortune any more than he could control the revolutions of the planet or the alignment of the galaxies.

Death is not the hand that drove the knife

In to the hilt. He did not make us suffer.

We held the knife and we twisted it

Harder in our efforts to climb higher.

The poet's words were remarkably dark for the fullness of his content – he had celebrated life if the most macabre of ways, ones that Miles found entertaining to say the least. Poetry on the whole tended to pass him by, the bounds of philosophy usually beneath his work. Practicality had a habit of getting in the way. The mysteries of ideals and beliefs could be left to those with lives wasted on it already. In truth, much of his work broached the confines of traditional science and delved into a conglomeration of science, theology and philosophy. For many that would practically spell a death sentence for their field of work, stepping on the toes of so many others, but you didn't dispute your ruler. Miles was free to invade any portion of the theory he wanted and then make it a reality if he so chose, often working in tandem with other scientists he had licensed to develop technology in his stead. He was the greatest mind on Moebius, and not opposed to working with others. A greater aptitude did not prefigure the correct viewpoint.

"Scourge is returning. Enemy forces have been subdued or executed depending on their station, and he will be in his cell within the hour." Leaning on the rail with him, Anima delivered the news without tone. Her emotional core was still in progress, and even within its limited capacity it was impossible to care for Scourge even in the loosest sense of the word. "The local module is not reporting any worthwhile damage to organic or inorganic tissue."

"Has he suffered any wounds?"

"Biological scanners are coming in with several minor lacerations, but these are healing passively due to his physiology. It is likely they will not be evident by the time he has made it home."

"In that case, his test run can be marked as a success, unless anything happens on the way back. Considering that we have just contained the only possible threat, that's unlikely. Have his bionics suffered any implant rejection yet?"

"Thus far they haven't." The AI lynx tilted her head sideways as she accessed the files streaming in directly from the hedgehog. "The psychological conditioning combined with the membrane interface seem to be working. It may simply be a delayed immune system reaction, but right now the connection seems fine. I am prepared to continue monitoring him indefinitely to ensure there are no setbacks."

"Adept physiology may be strengthening the connection." He did not need to tell her to record the speculation – she would do so anyway. "Connection to a strong energy source may serve as a catalyst or conduit for the bonding process. We should see if that is having any effect. If it is, we may be able to use it when it comes to modifying his bionics to carry anarchy energy."

"Noted." The lynx nodded. "Do you have plans for any immediate modification?"

"So soon after the previous procedure? No. Physically his bionics may be more resilient than his biology, but we need to ensure that we can channel anarchy energy at their original rate. It may be more beneficial to instead create an exoskeleton or battlesuit, if we can't maintain the flow of power."

"External armour would have little application if the body can be turned into armour, so we wait." Looking to him, she received a nod of confirmation; she was right, again. She still looked to him for assurance in these cases, every now and then. It was something of an infantile streak and platonic bond between them – she was forever learning and growing and evolving, while he had reached his evolutionary peak. As her creator, her father in a way, she looked to him for guidance as she matured. It was part of her development, though she was kept unaware. She learned by his design, the places he took her and the people he exposed her to, jaded by his own sense of the world and how it should be. Played right, it would be more effective than any training regime he could devise. Her reasons, her loyalties, would all be cemented and vindicated by experience. There would be failsafes, of course – only a complete idiot would design an artificial intelligence without some means of protection – but those would be emergency measures. With any luck they would not be needed.

"Come." He pushed way from the rail, turning to the door. "Do we have the genetic scans from Matthias' body?" He began to walk, passing through from the balcony and his study into the corridors beyond. Anima followed him silently, her ethereal body treading no noise into the carpet.

"The results are almost complete. Results are mixed – there were several benign tumours and several malignant ones, likely as a result of the accelerated process. They were in the earlier stages of development, but with the extent of his wounds I am unable to discern if there were any advanced stages in the damaged tissue. Recovered samples from his injuries displayed a total of seven different strains between them, but that is as far as I can examine."

"We will need more subjects. Since we can safely assume Matthias is a little too dead to be of any use beyond that with which he has already supplied us, we will need to draw in the local resources. Let's try and acquire a family – genetic similarities will give us greater reliability. If we can't acquire a family, keep it within a neighbourhood. Until we hammer out the greater flaws, we can consider this project still in the prototyping stage, and for that we need consistency." He paused for breath,

"I don't need to tell you to be discrete. No need to worry the masses."

"Of course. I'm beginning preparations as we speak – I'll deploy in two days, when the week begins." Planned well, the family's disappearance would go noticed but undisturbed. There were a few methods of concealment, witness protection the most common amongst them. The existence of the rebel faction was hardly a secret and thus it was only fitting that some 'anonymous members of society' would have offered some information or done some work to sabotage this legion of outcasts. It didn't matter that the whole thing was a fabrication, rebellion and all, nor that all his research was not simply for the benefit of his planet. The greater welfare his civilians enjoyed could be called a side-effect. He researched and developed because he had nothing else to do. He surely had some purpose to exist, but had not found it.

"What about the genetic material recovered from Felicia? Have we had any success in that area?"
Anima fell silent, unsure of how to break the news. He understood what she meant before she even said it. "There wasn't any genetic material to be recovered. Between the chaos radiation falloff and the excessive damage inflicted upon her by Miles-Two, there are no remains. Post-operation scans and genetic recovery has proven impossible, even when I have employed my most forensic retrieval methods. I have taken the liberty of marking her field test as a failure."

"Nothing? Nothing at all?" Damn. "Weren't you monitoring the combat?"

"I was." She dipped her head, ashamed. "With the presence of several Mobius units, my sensors were disrupted. Their presence was too invasive for me to be able to compensate. Only conventional optics remained functional, and I could not record any readings. From what I was able to observe, the best I can surmise is a prognosis; Felicia's defences failed somehow. It required what I theorise as the equivalent of a sixth-level energy organic energy expenditure, alongside the addition of an unknown weaponised energy format. I cannot provide precise readings for the quantities nor comparisons of energy required, and I cannot provide any power structures. According to my orders, I have failed."

"What a waste…" Miles muttered the words alone, too quiet for her to hear, stepping with her into the elevator. Still, all was not lost. "Then we work on the understanding that the damage done exceeded her maximum potential for energy absorption, and focus on finding effective countermeasures. If organic defences are not capable, an artificial backup may be required. Accurate readings were offset by additional operational parameters we weren't prepared for. However, we have room to theorise based on background data compiled. You may not have succeeded in the way we had hoped, but you have not failed yet."

"I haven't?" She couldn't believe it.

"Anima, listen closely. Initially I designed you to be the most sophisticated information collation and application computer on the planet. You have now gone beyond that, but the processing power still available to you has not diminished. You have plenty of space to theorise based on what we have. Take some time and consider where we can take this from within the limited resources available. The foundation of science is trial and error – though we should strive to limit the number of errors, it is still a valid method for the time being."

Teaching. He still had to teach.

He'd been prepared for this, and yet…unprepared for what it would entail. The disembodiment of inhabiting what had been empty space lacked emotion and feeling. So dull and artificial. It went beyond lacking a real, mobile body – only a collection of servers and some terminals as his physical connection to the world – the space he now inhabited was interstitial, lacking purpose other than to be a place to exist. The others were aware of his presence for now, but he would not be regaining himself in the foreseeable future; not until they had completed their research into artificial intelligence, and had subjected him to the necessary modifications that would be required for his functioning within the team. The terms and conditions had been explained – a lacking in sufficient personality, as the conglomerate had been, which would have to be rectified for him to be anything more than a tool to be used. His own depth of introspection surprised him; a weapon, conscious of its status as one.

Time to talk.

We're hitting a wall with our research.

The words flowed into his consciousness as a mind connected with his own. Lacking audio and video receptors alongside the means to interpret such things and respond accordingly, any interaction with another being was through a more direct connection. Organics, physical beings responded with keystrokes and their proximity to a terminal, a point where his mind and his hardware were one and the same. Technology, like Nicole, connected wirelessly. Programming met programming.

[You are an advanced program, and the result of an evolutionary process. You should not expect to replicate it in a laboratory setting.]

Our hands are tied. We're losing team members and they're not getting replaced.

[It may be insensitive, but you have only lost two, and from examining battle logs as Veracity they did not seem exceptional. Competent and effective, yes, but not extraordinary.]

We want friends, not just warriors.

[You need warriors first. A warrior can become a friend. Is that not what you are doing with me?]

We need to make sure it works first.

[Then perhaps I may offer some assistance. It is only speculation, but the most definite change in my functions I can observe since my creation had been my loss of the chaos core. It was integrated into Veracity's programming when he assimilated me, but this software lacks the same power.]

You're saying we should develop a chaos drive, or something similar?

[I believe what it embodies is worth further analysis. I was never privy to the details of the original, and so I cannot tell you if their creation is limited to Chaos himself, nor do I know the process he used. However, it appears to have the greatest correlation between AI sentience theory and application.]

I'm not sure we have the resources for that.

[I simply relay my observations to you. Whether you choose to pursue these lines of enquiry is based on your decisions, not mine.]

I'll need to talk to the others before anything is decided.

[Do as you see fit.]

Withdrawing from his consciousness, Nicole turned her gaze elsewhere as Metallix retreated into his depths, as far as a computer could go into meditative thought. She couldn't contact Tails just yet; he and Fiona needed their privacy. Maybe they weren't anything more than friends yet, but privacy and seclusion could be appreciated. She was a positive influence on the scientist, her presence diluted when others were about.

For Tails, cutting back was proving to be a chore in itself. Selecting but a single project to focus on perhaps could have been misconstrued as a chosen direction rather than a scared yet stubborn mind trying to hold all the ties, but the reality was that this project could not be run in tandem with the others. For even one with intellect as massive as he, it took a truly exceptional mind to make such a leap into technology and intelligence itself. He was combining biological science with electronic science; it wasn't that he was letting up on how much he did, it's just that all he had was going into one thing.

It would be a slow process to convince him to let up on the constant theorising and construction. Already she and Fiona had held several incognito meetings, trying to work out how they would alleviate some of the pressure from the necessary daily tasks and then convince him to take breaks from what had essentially become a life of science. He need a social life – something to do outside the laboratory, but how exactly did you teach that to someone who had never really had parents, spent his life in an orphanage, and was generally made the outsider by his phenomenal intellect? It was even worse – Nicole's life, as of yet, could not ascend to much true socialisation outside of Knothole proper, and so while she could be of use by taking the strain from management and jurisdiction, it fell to Fiona and the others to pull him from his work. They needed to find something that could occupy his mind.

"Elias." Bodiless, she answered the call coming in on her systems. She had been involved in several political movements in the early reign of the young king, efforts made to trim away the red tape legacy of his father, modernising the process where necessary and reviving more traditional practises where it made sense to. She was all set to become joint Minister of Internal Affairs alongside Megan. As his wife she technically should have been queen, but as it was that position would have served as little more than a figurehead without any power behind it. While 'your majesty' was the appropriate term for her, nothing had stopped her from stepping foot on the council in another, more effective role. Internal Affairs was a massive department and she could not manage it alone – one mind not enough for the scale of work required – and neither could Nicole, tied as she was to the Freedom Fighters. So they had come to the agreement that they would each pick up some end of the slack, and to this end plans had already been made to install a significant habitation server to allow Nicole to function at nigh on full capacity even this far from her home.

"Nicole." The monarch's face appeared from his end of the line, nodding respectfully to her image in turn shown to him. Even had she had a hologram available at his location there would have been no bowing or curtsey, one of Elias' first unofficial acts as king being to establish that he wasn't interested in pointless formality. Even as a prince he had felt himself well off in comparison to many, but nevertheless a Mobian and subject to no more respect than anyone deserved for their actions.

"Megan has been sorting through the palace guards and police force to overhaul the system. Hartley has been helping her, but they want your input on some names they're not sure on."

"Send me the list; I'll get back to them by the end of the week." There was almost some new piece of legislation to read over, and Nicole could hardly gloss over them, capable of reading essays in moments. They passed many of these cases onto her for the final say, aware of her status as a technically impartial judge, somewhat if not entirely freed from many organic prejudices. "I'm of the mind that all the definite traitors in the guard died when they attacked Alicia, but we don't yet have a way to test that for sure. When my server is installed I'll devote some power to working it out, but I'm afraid for now we have to trust that those who turned against us were solely part of Geoff's plan. With any luck, the splinters left from his failure will melt into the background."

"I'd rather not take any chances." His expression hardened, images of his mother flooding his mind.

"If there are people this close to us who would willingly switch sides, they could be used by anyone trying to gain a foothold on the kingdom. Geoffrey St. John may be dead, but I'm sure you know what I mean."

The lynx signalled her agreement. "We don't want loose ends. If that was from your father, I would consider it draconian, but I understand. Just trust for now that anything left is dormant."

"I don't really have much choice, do I?" He breathed heavily, bracing his arms against the sides of the terminal. "I'm worrying for Alexis and Megan, Nicole. I can't help it."

Her avatar rested her head in her hands, mulling the situation over for a moment. "Maybe there's something I can do as a temporary measure." Only the beginnings of an idea, perhaps, and the appropriate people would need to be asked, but it was certainly possible. "Bunnie and Antoine joined up with us while Tails was in hospital. I could see if they'd be willing to do some guard work for your family for a little while, until we're more prepared. Don't quote me on that, I have to ask them first."

He looked up, a mote of surprise in his expression. "Would they be interested? Antoine left the military to get away from it all, didn't he?"

"If he had, would he have joined up when we asked him?" The lynx grinned wryly. "He left his post because if he hadn't, Max would have kicked him out. He still wants to do right by everyone – I don't really think he'd be content to just fade into obscurity, do you?"

"I guess not." Her smile infected him. "The soldiers miss him. Our new commander had a good reception, probably because he was chosen by their best general and is living up to the legacy. They haven't questioned his choice to promote someone low down on the chain because he's never made a tactically unsound decision."

"Then they'll be happy to see him back, even if he's just as a bodyguard for a little while." Already her plan was in motion, searching for the married couple to deliver her suggestion directly. "I reckon he'll say yes. It's a favour for a friend, not a contract."

Evening was beginning to set in, late afternoon hanging onto the moment a little longer, many members of the group retiring to the living room as Telera prepared dinner. Even now it seemed empty, only Sonic, Sally, Bunnie and Antoine there to fill the space. In the past the tigress' absence at this time had never really been noticed, everyone aware of her talent with food. Now, with Tails and Fiona either arguing or mumbling awkwardly to each other, Amy in her room try to get her head round her new lifestyle and both Retis and Lupin…gone, it seemed too big for just the four of them.
She appeared in one of the abandoned chairs silently, her holographic projectors taking their time to manifest as to minimise the disruption of the moment. Two couples just sitting there, the television on in the background.

"Bunnie, Ant, I've got Elias on the line at the minute. He's got some concerns we think you might be able to help with."

"What is tze trouble?" The ex-general sat up, leaning forward to listen.

"After what happened with…well…the queen, he's worried for the safety of his family while we're still going through the preening of the guard forces. We're hoping that maybe for a little while you two could act as temporary bodyguards until he's settled in more and less worried about remaining insurgents."

"Ya know…ah can't tell if he's just paranoid," Bunnie gestured half-heartedly with one arm slung over the armrest, towards Sally, "or got some serious concerns. Ah'm not meanin' anything by it, but he don't want to be havin' trust issues."

"I'm aware." It was a possibility the AI had already anticipated, and had prepared a solution. "Once I'm setup over there, I'm going to be sorting out the guard troubles myself, but that's going to take a few weeks. I'm thinking if you go there bi-weekly, you can give him the security he's after for long enough to stop him worrying, but he won't start relying on knowing the names, life stories and genetic codes of all of his guards. You think you're up for it?"

"Tze choice is not mine to make." Antoine looked to his wife.

"Ah guess we're goin' then. We signed back up ta do this kinda thang." With her free organic hand Bunnie shook his shoulder gently, reassuringly. "We always said we were going ta travel, didn't we?"

"Perhaps not what we had in mind, hmm?" He retorted with a smile, Nicole once again bouncing the greater part of her consciousness back to Elias, still negotiating the finer points of the political game.

"Good news," she added in a moment of pause, "they're good to go with the plan. We'll get them heading down in a day or two."

"You have no idea how good that is to hear." She understood the isolation he felt, at the top.

"We'll have to be calling them back regularly to help out with operations at this end, so I'm afraid you won't be getting them the entire time, but it should be enough. Now…if you'll excuse me, I need to talk to Tails about something.