Sub-Episode 4: "Countdown"

February 25th, 2009, the Virginia coast, three miles east of CWCville

Pale moonlight shone upon the black ocean, its faint glow interspersed with thousands of yellow and orange lights that made up the skyline of CWCville. From the edge of the shore, the massive perimeter wall stretched for miles around the metropolis, a looming barricade built for a single purpose - to keep Christian Weston Chandler's enemies out and his subjects in. The great divide separating the two halves of the city itself was clearly visible - bright lights and colorful neon dominating the west, while contrasting with sparsely lit, hollow shells of buildings to the east. Fires flickered within the shadowed structures, illuminating the urban landscape and bathing the night sky in a hellish red.

To the three National Guard soldiers and the single Lairon making their way along the beach, the ongoing conflict between the PVCC, the EHPF, and the rogue True Blue had been limited to little more than a few muted explosions and flashes of light in the distance. Apart from that, and the thick columns of grey smoke towering over the city, there wasn't much else to suggest that an all-out battle for the fate of CWCville had begun not three hours earlier.

"Can't see anything past the shore," reported the foremost soldier, a tall, stern-faced man holding a pair of binoculars. A tag stitched to his combat fatigues displayed the name Hayes, opposite the sergeant's insignia on his left sleeve. "Listen. Most of it's happening on the east side."

"Wish they'd just fuckin' tell us what's going on." The second guardsman, Fisher, glanced down and kicked a small rock. "Think this is it? Lord knows we've been waiting long enough."

"Haven't seen this much activity since June," Hayes replied, taking a couple of steps along the beach. "And don't count on anything major from the brass. You know how they are."

"Laaaaaaairon," growled the Pokémon hungrily. Its metal carapace had been spray-painted to the standard camouflage pattern of the Army National Guard, and was outfitted with a harness and several packs of ammunition and medical kits. This, along with its natural bulletproof plating, allowed it to function as a living combat support vehicle. Due to military regulations and concern from various Pokémon rights groups, only a small number of species had been cleared for active duty in the US armed forces. The most common types were Rock, Ground, Fighting, Fire, Steel, and Psychic, though exceptions were occasionally made in the case of high-ranking officers.

"Yeah, I know, I know." The sergeant patted the Lairon on its head. "Just hang in there, baby. We'll get you some chow when we get back, I promise."

"Sergeant?"

Hayes glanced at the third guardsman as they continued down the shore. "Go ahead, Ramirez."

"I know everyone's thinking the same thing," Ramirez sighed," but if I don't say it out loud, it's gonna kill me. Why the hell haven't we just stomped right in and invaded that shithole already? Why'd they put up a fucking…border patrol when they could've sent in-"

"Too much potential damage," answered Hayes with a frown. "That's not even starting on the civvies still in there. I don't know what our intel guys are doing, but if Command knew enough about these things to okay an assault, we'd be dragging Chandler's fat ass out of that damn shopping mall by now. Then there's the Combo…"

"It's bullshit, that's what," commented Fisher in a low Southern accent. "Fuckin' hedgehogs."

"Lai! Laaaaaaiiiiiron!"

"Hold it!" Stowing the binoculars, the sergeant slung an M4 carbine off his shoulder and scanned the beach through the night vision device mounted to his helmet. "What? What'd she see?"

"No visual," Ramirez whispered, crouching beside the growling Lairon in a form of improvised cover. "Paul, you got anything?"

"Negative," replied Fisher. "Sarge?"

"Stay on her. Something's wrong." Hayes pointed to Ramirez. "Take point. Top of the dune."

The guardsman hurried up the slope while Hayes and Fisher followed after the support Pokémon. Near the apex, Ramirez dropped to the ground and inched his way forward, just enough so that he could see the minor stretch of shoreline that lay behind the dune. The tide was almost all the way in by now, with white lines of foam from inbound breakers marking the high point. It was hard to see anything amidst the scattered driftwood and garbage, but as Ramirez surveyed the lonely beach, something odd caught his eye.

A limp, soaking figure lay at the edge of the high tide line, draped in seaweed and curled into a pathetic bundle as the waves gently pushed it back and forth. There didn't seem to be any other bodies in the vicinity, or any sign of what might have landed the unfortunate soul in its current predicament. This had to have been what the Lairon was making such a fuss about.

"Anything?"

"Yeah, I got a casualty on the ground." Ramirez looked back to Hayes and Fisher. "Might be a civilian, can't tell from here. No further contacts in view."

"Right. Move up," ordered the sergeant. "Get the area secured and check the body." He reached to the side of his helmet and adjusted his microphone. "Foxtrot Oscar Bravo, come in, over."

"Loud and clear, Echo Six One, this is FOB Charlottesville. Go ahead, Sergeant. Over."

"Roger, Command, we've got a civilian down on the beach, possible KIA." Hayes watched as Fisher and Ramirez hastened over to the body and began performing a basic perimeter check. "Requesting immediate medevac and backup. Stand by for coordinates. Prepare to copy, over."

"Ready to copy, Echo Six One, send your traffic. Over."

"Clear," muttered Fisher, pulling off one of his gloves as he knelt beside the motionless body and began unzipping his field medical kit. Behind him, he could hear Hayes reporting their location to the US forward operating base in Charlottesville. "Joe, get a light on him, I can't see shit."

"Jesus, this poor bastard's stiff as a board." Ramirez clicked on his flashlight and shone it across the young man's battered and bloody face. "How long you think he's been here?"

"Can't tell. Too cold," Fisher answered, and placed two fingers on the civilian's neck, feeling for a pulse. "Could be a few minutes, could be a few hours. I don't think this one's gonna be…" He paused, staring incredulously at the body. "The fuck?" Leaning in close, he carefully pried the man's mouth open, releasing an icy stream of water. "Defibrillator! Joe, get the AED!"

"Stand by, Command, over." Hayes slid down the dune. "What happened? Is he still alive?"

"Barely," grunted Fisher, drawing his combat knife and slashing the unconscious man's shirt open to reveal a thin, scarred chest and several cuts and bloody bruises. "It's faint, but he's got a pulse. Jesus. Looks like he's been through a fuckin' grinder. Come on, we need to dry him off."

"FOB Charlottesville, Echo Six One," reported Hayes as the two soldiers set about wiping the seawater from their patient's frigid torso and adhering the two electrode pads. "Casualty is still alive, I say again, the civilian is still alive. Attempting to stabilize, over."

"Copy, Echo Six One. Hold your position, medevac team is being dispatched now, over."

Location unknown

It's over. You lost.

The world around Kevin Shaw had become hauntingly empty. Gone were the cold, the pain, and the water. Gone were the icy black sea, the twinkling stars, and the distant skyline of CWCville. The only things that hadn't already vanished into oblivion were himself, his thoughts, and an endless, overwhelming surge of helplessness and despair.

If this wasn't death, it was certainly the closest that the Jerkop had ever been.

You knew it would end this way.

Wherever Kevin was, or whatever state of being Count Graduon had decided to imprison him in, it wasn't part of the material world. No matter which direction he looked or turned, the view was always the same – an infinitely black space that stretched off in all directions, while curtains of light shone like auroras in the distance. Occasionally, an image would try to take shape in the chaos, but they rarely solidified enough to see. There were no structures, no landmarks, no horizon…nothing but the void and the echoing silence. Gravity didn't seem to have any bearing on him in this plane of reality. Nor did anything else.

Your friends, dead. The city, on fire. And you, alone.

The Jerkop's thoughts drifted around, sometimes barely audible, sometimes accompanied by fragmented dialogue or ethereal speech that seemed to have been passed through five echo chambers prior to reaching him. At some points, it seemed like he could identify some of the speakers' voices, but for the most part, it was just noise. There was nothing more he could do.

Nothing? You always had the choice whether to stop this or not, Kevin. You knew they were just using you to further their own agenda. From the very beginning, you've always been their pawn.

"Shut…the fuck…up…" whispered Kevin, clutching the sides of his head hard enough to cause a sharp ache. Waves of bright orange energy rippled through the void, synchronized with the pounding pain in his skull. "I can't just…I couldn't just stop them…"

You told yourself that you couldn't just walk away. You try to justify your actions by fooling yourself into thinking it's all for the greater good. How many innocents are dead now, because of what they made you do? And what of your girlfriend? How long do you think she'll survive?

"I didn't…" Kevin choked back a sob, fighting desperately to hold off the explosion of grief building within him. "She's not…dead. She's not dead! She…"

Correct. But thanks to you, she'd be better off that way.

"Shut up. Shut up!" Tears of helpless anger trickled down the Jerkop's cheeks and floated away, hanging in empty space like glittering raindrops. Despite everything that Kevin was doing to convince himself otherwise, the unknown speaker was right. He had doomed Allie to an even bleaker fate than his own. Just as Kel had been mind-raped into servitude by Magi-Chan, so too would Allie be reshaped from the ground up into Christian Weston Chandler's long-sought wife…a docile, obedient little plaything who would never question her husband's mad desires. The girl he loved, destroyed by the monster who had already taken so much away from him…

You did this. YOU did this to her, Kevin. You let her die…you let them ALL die. YOU DID THIS.

"SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT THE FUCK UP!" Kevin screamed, clawing at his ears in a futile attempt to block out the sounds. Try as he might, the wall of denial he'd been constructing since 2004 was being torn down, brick by brick. Stupid…he'd been so fucking stupid. All this time, he had just been a means to an end, a useful, expendable idiot who had blindly followed every order he'd been given. Was this his final purpose, after all that he'd endured under Chandler's rule?

And now thousands more will die because of your actions. Just like the ones you couldn't save.

The faces of the fallen flashed before him - Jake, Frank, Amanda, Zoey, Matt, and finally Kel, their hollow grey eyes fixed upon him in silent judgment. Every single one had lost their lives because of Chandler, and Kevin had been there to see them all at their moments of death. And just like Allie, he hadn't been able to save any of them. Now here he was – alone and helpless, trapped in some lost layer of his own subconscious by a demon he had thought to be long dead.

It always comes back to you in the end, Kevin. It always comes back to you.

Shivering weakly, Kevin curled up, waiting for death, or whatever new punishments awaited him in the depths of his mind. He'd stopped caring, stopped worrying about what came next. Nothing made sense anymore. All that remained was the silence, and the echoes.

"Oh, at least TRY to fight back, pawn," the voice snapped disdainfully, twisting itself away from the ambiguous echo and reforming into Count Graduon's familiar sneer. "I do SO enjoy your predecessors' attempts to defeat me, and given your heritage, I expected far more from you."

Fury seared through Kevin's heart as he spun and spun, searching for the source of the ancient spirit's words. They seemed to be coming from all around him, with no clear point of origin. It was almost impossible to gauge where anything was, let alone a single speaker. If only there was some way to locate a foothold, a patch of solid ground…

The void pulsed, once. With a resounding crackle, a flat, glasslike slab shimmered into existence beneath Kevin's boots. The rotation instantly stopped, along with the dizzying sense of zero gravity. Surprised, the Jerkop looked down to see that his feet were firmly planted on the surface, while the material seemed to contract and expand in synchronicity with the cosmic displays around him. It was a relief to be grounded again, but how had this alteration occurred?

"So you DO remember." Graduon's voice returned as a levitating figure began to take shape in the emptiness. Vaguely humanlike, its body shimmered with what looked like hundreds of tiny electrical surges, while beneath the surface, violet flames licked hungrily at the storm above. "A feeble effort, yes, but an effort all the same. And here I believed the legacy was truly dead."

Kevin remained silent. It wasn't that he couldn't speak…he simply didn't know what he could have possible said at the moment. A thousand different thoughts were bubbling up from within him at the same time, and every single one was trying to force its way out in front of the rest. It was all he could do to keep himself from plunging into gibbering insanity.

"Why?" he finally croaked, his voice reduced to a shaky whisper. "Why are you doing this?"

"Ascension." Pale light flickered across Graduon's face, and the form solidified a bit more. "Did you ever think it strange that you were the only human who could always hear my voice when I was near, even when I did not speak directly to you? Did you find it odd that, even after I was 'destroyed', the psychic shields remained around every PVCC base in the city? Perhaps you might have wondered why Magi-Chan Sonichu was unable to sense his bastard daughter being butchered in her own home…or why he never intervened to save her family."

"What?" Kevin drew back, stunned. "You did that?"

"Indeed," chuckled the spirit. "Admittedly, I had some unexpected help with the latter. It seems that not even Magi-Chan is as faultless as he likes to think he is. Achieving immortality comes with a heavy price, pawn. But I must admit that his punishment is rather fitting. Challenged and destabilized by his greatest creation…the creature who once was his only path to eternal life."

"What the fuck are you talking ab-"

"SILENCE!" roared Graduon. "I can tolerate many things, but impudence is not one of them. This may be your mind, pawn, but I command your body like a puppet. Speak out of turn again, and I may begin to act…carelessly. A few choice words here, a stray bullet there, perhaps a missed chance to save a friend's life…"

The spirit's words nearly plunged Kevin over the edge of hopelessness. He hadn't even stopped to consider what Graduon would be able to do with him, now that it was in control of his physical self and fully able to move and speak as if it were the real Kevin Shaw. Whatever its agenda was, it certainly didn't consider most of humanity anything more than "expendable". If it wanted, it could place anyone who knew and trusted Kevin into unspeakably grave danger.

"If I desired it, pawn, I could delve into the darkest reaches of your subconscious and call forth your greatest fears," the ancient spirit hissed. "I could leave you alone for eternity, facing the monsters in your mind until the fragments of your will shatter apart. Perhaps in a few decades, when I find a new vessel, I will then allow you to die. But until that day, I am your master. I entered this world at humanity's rise, and I will only depart it when civilization crumbles to dust and the plague of mankind has been overwhelmed and devoured by its own arrogance."

"What…are you?" snarled Kevin. "You're not Satan. You're not Giratina. So what the hell are you?"

"I am the closest thing to a god that you will ever know, pawn," answered Graduon, its projected form coursing with violent webs of lightning as jagged spikes and twisted structures burst forth from its skin. Misshapen and translucent, it held no persistent features but for seven crystalline structures shining from within its chest. "I have seen the dawn of time and the rise of man. I was there to plant the seeds of civilization on this pathetic world…" It smiled, its face twisting into a savage snarl. "And I will be there to reap the harvest when humanity is ready to fall."

"Arceus… Oh…my…God…" The information was coming at Kevin too quickly for him to absorb, but it felt as if the spirit was stuffing every word of it into his mind – force-feeding him thoughts and memories that were not his own. "You could have taken anyone else in the world. You could've taken Chandler. Why me?"

"Well, as long as I have your attention…and your mind," Graduon replied with a sinister grin, "I see no reason not to show you the answers you seek, pawn. Like it or not, you have no choice in the matter. Perhaps, if you keep silent and pay attention, you may even learn a few things."

Any protest from Kevin was quickly swept away as the panoramic void began to flash and churn with ferocious energy. The transparent platform beneath his feet expanded and spread to the horizon in a matter of seconds, deforming as valleys and hills and towering mountains were called forth into existence. A primeval landscape of unblemished forests and sprawling grassland emerged, growing rapidly around him and Graduon as the Jerkop watched in speechless wonder. This place was an earth that mankind had only glimpsed in its infancy, a time before civilization would tear the lush landscape asunder in its never-ending conquest of the planet.

"When I awoke," Graduon announced in a dramatic voice, "none of this existed. These are my memories, pawn. Hundreds of millions of years ago, I watched from the shadows as life began to form on this barren planet. There was no Eden here, no Creator, only a natural order. Humanity was nothing more than its infant stage: naïve, fragile, and weak. And yet, they survived."

As Graduon spoke, the world shifted again, and crude shapes rose from the land. Neolithic dwellings, a firepit, a small settlement, a village, and at last, a large collection of huts and barricades lay spread across the lush valley. Men, women, and children moved among the buildings, dressed in clothing woven from grass or crafted from animal hide. Kevin noticed that a few of the larger structures had been built from the bones of giant animals. In the distance, a herd of mastodons and smaller Mamoswine grazed peacefully by the edge of a river.

"We stand at the last days of the Pleistocene epoch," said Graduon. "Soon a new age will begin, and with it, the rise of man. But they shall not be alone."

Kevin had an inkling of where they were, but he didn't want to provoke the spirit's wrath any further by speaking. His anger and confusion had been swallowed up by the visions before him, and now, only a sense of ravenous curiosity remained. The world turned and turned, sped up as dozens of years passed in just a few seconds. Where once there stood a simple village, now a settlement the size of a small city had arisen. Houses and buildings shifted from wood to stone, much of the surrounding woodlands had been cleared, and dirt roads branched away from the village toward a collection of caves and quarries in the nearby mountains. Already, the impact of mankind's existence was taking its toll on the ancient earth.

"Now…" Graduon smiled, lifting a shadowed hand toward the sky. "So it begins."

Hundreds of people had gathered at the center of the village, watching in anticipation of some unseen event. Without thinking, Kevin stepped forward, leaving the ancient spirit behind to observe. As he reached the edge of the silent crowd and held out a hand to push his way past a pair of men armed with spears, his fingers simply passed through them, as if they had been only projections in the USS Enterprise's holodeck. Dazed by how real the experience seemed, Kevin continued on, walking straight through the masses until he could see what they were staring at.

Seven tribesmen, both men and women, stood hand in hand chanting rhythmically around a stone shrine, their bodies covered only in chalk-white paint and strange crimson symbols. Small fires had been lit around them, and Kevin could feel the heat on his face and even smell the burning wood. The language the chanters were speaking seemed to be a Native American dialect, and though he couldn't understand any of it, Kevin knew in the back of his mind that this had to be a ritual of some sort…a call of awakening to the earth itself. But what were they trying to do?

"Such naïve creatures." Graduon appeared beside him, having taken on the form of one of the tribesmen. There was no mistaking the chaotic gleam in his eyes, though, or his sinister grin. "This was intended as a ritual to summon the spirits of the earth, so that we might speak to them directly." He laughed, a dry sound that almost sounded like a death rattle. "And we did."

Suddenly, the chanting ceased. As Kevin looked on, stunned, each of the summoners collapsed to the ground, clutching at their heads and moaning in a display what could only be described as ecstatic divine agony. Blood began to pour from their eyes, mingling in dark streams with the painted symbols that decorated their bodies. As the crowd drew back in fear, an eighth figure arose from the center of the shrine – a young man, similarly painted like his dying comrades, but bearing a fearsome pair of dark crimson eyes. A faint violet aura surrounded him, and when he spoke, it was the sound of rushing water, roaring flames, grinding stone, and howling wind. The crowd fell to their knees, bowing in reverence to the being they had just called into existence.

"After eons of waiting," announced the spirit with an immense measure of pride, "I had finally taken my first step into the physical world. I had no name then but that of my vessel's – Sawabi. These creatures reached out to me, and I answered their cries. This, pawn, is the first time that a Passage was ever conducted. I took their sacrifice as my avatar, my means to communicate with those who would hear my voice. Though they feared me, and eventually, to be my vessel was considered the highest honor." He looked at Kevin. "How times have changed."

The Jerkop remained silent. If this was true, then all this time, the PVCC had been working with one of the single most powerful supernatural forces in Earth's history. Had Mary Lee Walsh known what a dangerous path she was taking by allying herself with Graduon? And if the spirit could possess other beings at will, how and why had it been imprisoned within the crystal staff?

The scene changed to what must have been several years later. Graduon's avatar, Sawabi, now an adult, stood beside a beautiful, pregnant woman. Around them, the city had grown by leaps and bounds technologically, and some of the tribesmen were even carrying weapons and tools forged from metal. Through Graduon's guidance, the tribe was progressing at an incredibly fast rate, while those beyond its borders still remained firmly rooted in the Stone Age. Glimpses of the outside world showed bands of nomadic humans, hunting and gathering and even forming small settlements of their own, but nothing compared to the rise of the first city.

Another flash forward, and Sawabi's wife had given birth to a healthy baby girl. The child seemed relatively normal in size, shape, and features, apart from the same crimson eyes as her father. As the years passed and the child became a young woman, the tribe - even the old chieftain and his council - treated her with the same respect and admiration as they bestowed upon their beloved prophet. Eventually, Sawabi lay on his deathbed, a frail old man, near to the end. As his eyes closed for the last time, his daughter shuddered for a few moments, then opened her eyes and placed a hand on her father's forehead. The second Passage was complete, and the new avatar of Graduon had succeeded her predecessor.

And so it went, from one generation to the next. Graduon conducted Passages between his avatars in an endless cycle, teaching his chosen people to farm the land, to communicate through writing, and to construct totems and shrines for the spirits of the earth. There was no malice in his work, nor any sort of agenda. Through his vessels, he spoke of progress and enlightenment, and the tribesmen were all too eager to work toward achieving his grand designs. Crime was nearly nonexistent, and any disputes were settled through diplomacy, or else through judgment by Graduon and his growing retinue of disciples. He was a god, a king, and a priest all in one, with none of the greed or corruption one would expect from a being with that much power.

"You helped them," Kevin murmured out loud. "You weren't trying to destroy them?"

"No," replied Graduon, and for the first time, the Jerkop sensed a bitterness in the spirit's voice. "They were my people, my followers, my family. They loved me, and I loved them back."

A century blinked by, and another, and another. The city stretched for dozens of miles, rivaling the Roman Empire and ancient Egypt in its sheer size and complexity. Now, however, a colossal wall stood between the city's edge and the wilderness beyond. The "lesser" humans remained outside, cut off from the great civilization by an impenetrable barricade of stone and steel. Within the walls, the ascended race flourished. Technology, art, literature, and science quickly became the most highly prized elements of the civilization, pushing its inhabitants further and further toward an apex of knowledge and understanding. There were no gods in their pantheon, only a collection of elemental spirits and creatures who shaped the world with their dreams. The city was nothing short of a utopia, in its purest and most definitive form.

"Is…" Kevin was struck by a thought, one that had been lurking in his mind for some time now. "Is this…Cherokia?"

"No," Graduon replied, showing undisguised anger at the mere mention of the word. "The ones I chose to guide took the name of my first avatar as their own. They called themselves the Sawabi, and their first great city, Sawabia. For many generations, there was peace, progress, expansion, and exploration as the civilization grew. Our society was not one of material wealth or personal power. Leaders were chosen, but all knew their place in the world. Until the feud, that is."

"How did it happen?"

The spirit only shook its head. "Greed. Selfishness. Envy. Human nature."

The city stretched out before Kevin, and now he could truly see just how massive it had become over the years of Graduon's encouragement. A great temple stood at the center, surrounded by a ring of seven tall towers and other alien structures that seemed to reflect different elements of the earth and the unknown plane of existence from which the ancient being had been summoned. Time slowed again without warning, returning to its normal progression as the pair of observers were suddenly transported right in front of the temple's massive doorway.

Without even a backward glance at his new avatar, Graduon floated forward. Kevin was too captivated to protest, and promptly obeyed. As the great doors swung open before them, the interior of the temple came into view – a vast hallway, four stories high, lined with rows of stone columns and colossal statues. Kevin walked through the massive building while Graduon drifted alongside him, passing attendants, guards, and priests without even drawing a stare. Towards the far end of the atrium, a carved stairway stretched up to a raised platform, upon which stood a ring of seven tall granite monuments and a circular altar. A small group of men and women in hooded red ceremonial robes had gathered around the shrine, while two men were locked in a heated debate in the middle. Kevin couldn't tell what was going on at first, but as he listened, the Sawabian language seemed to grow more and more understandable. The only explanation he could come up with was that his captor was somehow instilling it within him.

"You must understand, if you are to know the truth," Graduon confirmed. "Now listen, pawn."

"The only way for our people to survive is expansion," declared the first of the two Sawabians. A golden crown encircled his head, with two ear-like decorations on the sides of the band. He wore a ceremonial suit of violet and gold armor, engraved with symbols. "We have no choice! A colony must be established, and with your permission, I will shoulder responsibility for it."

"You have the aptitude to undertake this endeavor, Cherok," the clanmaster replied, thoughtfully gazing at the stone structures around the altar. He was dressed in an orange cloak, the hood of which had been decorated with yellow, black, and red. "I do not doubt your ability to succeed, but I must voice my concern nevertheless. To found a new colony so far from Sawabia…how, then, can the Ancient One's vessel possibly watch over two cities with only one pair of eyes?"

"We are ready now," insisted Cherok, a determined gleam in his piercing blue eyes. "Our people have listened to the words of the Ancient One long enough. We have learned the ways of the spirit world, and now it must fall upon us to take charge for the good of our own kind."

"The child speaks true, Clanmaster." A tall figure approached the altar, its face and body hidden by a carved white mask and a set of pale bone armor, complete with a heavy cloak made from dark crimson cloth. Though it looked human in form, something seemed off about its shape, the way it walked, and its overall stance. Maybe it was the pair of curved red horns jutting from the sides of its head, or the thin tail with an arrow-like point that dragged behind it. Generations of exposure to Graduon's unknown energies had severely altered its vessels' physical states, bestowing new and inhuman features upon them over hundreds of years. The spirit's current avatar appeared to be the culmination of this growth, and barely looked human at all anymore.

"Ancient One," murmured the clanmaster. "You honor us with your presence, but you must understand…dividing our nation as Cherok suggests will limit your contact with its people."

"My sight may be limited," the avatar answered, "but I believe that the Sawabi are at last ready to reach their next stage of being. Even you, Clanmaster, knew from the start that I would not always be there to watch over every one of my people. I was there to guide humanity through its childhood, and now that it has grown, it must be allowed to reach maturity first."

"You see?" Cherok added. "The Ancient One himself says it is time. I-"

"Heed my words now, child," continued Graduon, his voice now taking on a harsh parental tone. "If you are to take on the duty of leading the Sawabi toward a future free of my guidance, then you must remember what I have told you and your ancestors. Follow my teachings as you would follow me, and in time, you may be looked upon as a savior." He turned to the clanmaster and bowed his head respectfully. "But as always, the final decision rests in your hands."

"And as always, Ancient One, your judgment is sound." The elder returned Graduon's gesture, then looked at Cherok with tentative confidence. "The colony will be founded, and you shall be the one to lead it. But know that my final decree to you is this. Your city and its people shall bear your name from now until the end of time. Whatever may come of this endeavor, history will forever remember you as the leader you chose to be. But this is a sword that cuts both ways."

"However," added Graduon, "you are still one of the Sawabi, Cherok. We cannot allow you to lead this new colony without at least some assistance." Striding forward, he raised a hand and placed it on the central symbol of the stone altar. The air seemed to bend inwards around him, and a searing crimson light emanated from behind the bone mask. As Kevin, the real Graduon, and the Sawabians watched, a bright ball of violet energy formed in the palm of the avatar's hand, which then solidified into a crystal sphere with a black obsidian band around its middle. Chaotic bolts of electricity crackled within the beautiful purple stone, casting an eerie flickering light throughout the room. Hypnotized by the glow, Kevin could hardly even remember where he had seen such an object before. It definitely looked like something he'd seen before, anyway.

"I gave them the tools to conquer the world," the real Graduon snarled. "If I had known what my actions would unleash, I would never have trusted the Cherokians in the first place." Lightning flared in his eyes. "But they showed such…promise. I was naïve. I trusted them. I trusted…him."

"Ancient One! What are you doing?" the clanmaster exclaimed. "Surely you cannot mean to…"

"Just as the seven sacred stones have allowed me to channel my power from the world I awoke from," continued the avatar as he held out the sphere. "this crystal shall bind you to my essence, child. Through its power, I will guide you as needed, and so long as it remains with your people, your city shall thrive as Sawabia has thrived. This is my gift to you, Cherok. Use it well."

"I shall, Ancient One." Cherok reached out and accepted the crystal from Graduon. The moment it touched his hand, his eyes flashed with a sudden purple light, but he was otherwise unaffected by its arcane energy. "I swear on my life, this power shall only be used for the good of our clan."

"As it should be." The clanmaster stepped forward, taking his place aside the avatar of Graduon. "Remember this day, Cherok, and what you have been told. Go now, and lead your people."

"I will." Cherok smiled triumphantly and grasped the elder's hand. "Thank you…Father."

The world shifted again, and Kevin and Graduon were carried to the south, where the city of Cherokia stood in its relative infancy – little more than a small colony at this stage. The coastline seemed extremely familiar now, and it didn't take long for Kevin to recognize several familiar landmarks in the area. This was Virginia, specifically, the part of Virginia where Kevin had lived his entire life. Right away, he could point out the places - as if looking at a map - where his hometown was, where Station Square would one day be built, Pallet Town, Cinnabar Island, Vermilion City, and even Mt. Moon to the north. Beyond that mountain range, though, lay the predecessor to another city…the same city that had imprisoned Kevin for more than a decade.

"In the old tongue, this land is called Kayentou, the Dawn World," explained the ancient spirit. "Thousands of years after these civilizations fell to their own vices and new, less enlightened ones arose from the ashes, ships arrived from across the sea, bringing their own conquerors to claim the land. When they settled here, this region's name was shortened to-"

"Kanto," murmured Kevin. It seemed so long ago that the state of Virginia had once been called that. He'd always wondered why, especially since it was so geographically similar to the Kantō region of mainland Japan. "Then this…this is where the colony was built?"

"Three days after I entrusted Cherok with the crystal, a thousand Sawabi departed the city, in search of their new home." The anger had left Graduon's voice by now, and only a tired regret remained. "I could not aid them as I had aided their predecessors, but I did what I could. They founded a new city here, and as his father had decreed, Cherok bestowed his own name upon it and took his place as its clanmaster. Through the crystal, he and I spoke of what the future held for the Cherokian clan, and I offered him all the guidance he needed to become a good leader."

"Wait," Kevin interrupted. The nagging thought at the back of his mind was finally taking shape. "You said…that crystal…what was it, something about 'sacred stones'?"

Graduon nodded. "Correct. A hundred years before the rise of the Cherokian clan, the Sawabi were just beginning to unlock the hidden powers of the earth. I brought them to the untouched places I'd known in the time before man, there to draw strength from their surroundings. As they delved further and further into their explorations, I helped them bind the earth's essence into artifacts of tremendous elemental power. Just as it had taken seven sacrifices to bring me into this world, so too did I craft seven sacred stones to channel my growing power. These were bound to a single large stone, which would be able to control the lesser ones if needed. Each one holds immeasurable strength, and if all seven were to be combined, reality itself could be shaped and reshaped just as easily as one molds a ball of clay. But I was the only one who knew how to use this power, and so the seven stones and their controller were sealed within the temple's altar and its shrine, never to be used until the time of our greatest need."

Kevin recalled the great temple of Sawabia, and the seven towers that encircled it. The story that Graduon was telling him was undeniably complicated and difficult to believe, and yet, it was shedding light on a civilization that even the world's top historians knew next to nothing about. He had no reason to believe anything that the spirit was saying, but at the same time, why would Graduon lie? To torment him? To trick him in some underhanded way? What could it possibly hope to gain from showing him these events that had happened thousands of years ago?

"Days became months, months became years," said Graduon. "I did what I could to aid Cherok, but for the most part, I believed that he would uphold his promise. My duty was to the Sawabi, and as the Cherokian clan grew in size and numbers, I found it more and more difficult to see how their colony had progressed. Then, one day, all contact with the colony just…stopped. Try as I might, I could no longer channel myself through the crystal. I could no longer see Cherok, or speak to him. Even with the power of all seven sacred stones, I could find no answers."

The scene shifted back to the Sawabian temple. The clanmaster, now a wizened old man, sat in a chair by the altar, while Graduon's avatar paced back and forth around him. Every so often, he would reach out and touch one of the seven granite blocks, and its smooth surface would glow with thousands of brightly colored runes. It was clear to Kevin now…these were the seven sacred stones that Graduon had spoken of, and the altar was the single controlling stone.

"I fear my son is dead, Ancient One," whispered the clanmaster in a tremulous voice. "If what you say is true, then the crystal has undoubtedly been destroyed."

"It is not…destroyed, Clanmaster," growled Graduon. "If it had been, I would certainly know."

"Then what has become of it? And what has become of my son?"

"I do not know." The spirit placed its hand on the central slab, which immediately began shining with green light. "I cannot see. The crystal still exists, but it does not respond to me anymore." Straightening up, Graduon fixed the clanmaster with a threatening stare, his red eyes shining from behind the bone mask. "Speak, then. What of the messengers you sent?"

"Nothing." The old man shook his head wearily. "Three days now, and not one word."

"They should have returned yesterday," Graduon snapped, his patience wearing thin. "This cannot be a mere mistake. Something has happened to the colony, and whatever it is, my link with the crystal, and your son, has been shattered. I must seek out the truth, in Cherokia."

"What of the city, Ancient One?"

"Sawabia will survive without me," replied the spirit. "Until I return, you and the council must maintain order as usual. This concerns more than just the life of your son. If that crystal has fallen into the hands of outsiders, or has been misused in some way…"

"Oh, I assure you, Ancient One," a voice resounded through the temple, emanating from the stone altar itself. Kevin recognized it as Cherok's, though the Cherokian clanmaster sounded older and far more experienced than he had been prior to leaving Sawabia. "My people and I are very much alive and well. Your messengers are, too, though I doubt they will be returning soon."

"Cherok!" exclaimed the clanmaster. "My son, what do you mean? What have you-"

"The crystal, Father," replied Cherok. "I vowed that I would only use it for the good of our clan, and it has shown us the way forward…the way to our ascension. It has shown us the truth."

Graduon froze. "What did you say?"

"You know exactly what I said, you deceitful coward," Cherok snapped accusingly. "Ascension. You gave me the crystal so that you could spy on my people, just as you have been spying on all of us since the day our ancestors summoned you from the depths of the earth. You were playing us all for fools, demon! We were never your chosen people…just a means to an end!"

"You speak madness, Cherok!" The clanmaster rose to his feet, pleading desperately with his son. "The Ancient One has done nothing of the sort! For hundreds of years, he has guided us-"

"And for what reason? What reason, Father? You and the rest of your damned city have fallen to that demon and his lies! I believed them myself, before the crystal's light showed us the way."

"What did you do?" roared Graduon, grasping the stone altar so hard that cracks appeared in the granite surface. "WHAT DID YOU DO WITH THE CRYSTAL, CHEROK?"

"No more lies, demon!" Cherok shouted angrily. "You built the shrine and the sacred stones to forge a gateway to another world! All this time, we were just…livestock! If you had your way, every living thing on this earth would be swallowed and engulfed by the corruption beyond!"

"Fool!" The spirit slammed a fist against the altar. "Naïve fool! What have you done?"

"We have heard the truth, demon," spat Cherok. "Through the crystal's light, we glimpsed the world from which you arose. The dark world. The torn world. The chaos world. And now that we have seen it…it has shown us the way. To save our civilization, you must be destroyed."

"I have only glimpsed such a world once before," murmured Graduon, "in the time before your ancestors crawled from the sea, child. I do not wish to see it again, and I certainly was not born of that hellish place. If you have seen that realm…then you have damned us all."

"Your time is ending, dark one. The only damnation you face is your own."

The altar's light faded, then died. Graduon staggered backward, his hands burnt and smoldering, his eyes still glowing with a vicious red hue. As the clanmaster looked on in stunned silence, the spirit's avatar fell to his knees and let out a bitter cry, a cry of failure, frustration, and regret. The sharp crack of splitting rocks rang through the cavernous temple, as glowing cracks and rifts began to appear in the seven great stones. A cascade of colored lights burst from the shrine, culminating in a pillar of rainbow energy rising to the heavens from the center of the altar.

Graduon rose to his feet and reached out, thrusting his hand into the light and channeling a blast of arcane power. The rainbow promptly divided back into its individually colored beams, which in turn shrank and coalesced into seven luminous spheres - green, silver, cyan, purple, red, yellow and blue. The controlling stone flashed once and shattered apart, revealing a colossal green sphere at its center, around which the seven smaller ones rotated.

"Ancient One?"

Graduon whirled around, his mask and armor glowing with unknown energy. "Clanmaster?"

"The one who spoke through the stones…" The old man closed his eyes in acceptance, wiping a tear from his wrinkled cheek. "That is not Cherok. That is not my son. I am sorry, Ancient One."

"You have nothing to apologize for, Clanmaster," muttered the spirit. "I should have foreseen this, but I was too blinded by my own anticipation to realize what my decisions may have caused. I believed that the crystal would only allow me to communicate with Cherok and the colony, but never did I once consider that maybe…forces from the chaos realm could use it as well."

"And this 'chaos realm'…this is what has driven my son to madness?"

"If I am not too late to stop this, then perhaps even Cherok can be saved." Graduon closed his hand, and the balls of light contracted, dropping to the stone floor of the shrine. A soft clatter, like glass, echoed in the sudden silence. "I must leave for the colony immediately."

"I cannot let you go alone!" insisted the clanmaster. "Please, Ancient One! You do not know-"

"No. I do not." Without another word, Graduon raised a hand above the altar. One by one, seven glowing gemstones lifted into the air, forming a circle around the spirit's avatar. Transmuted into being by some unknown force, they shone with an intensity beyond that of any normal jewel. "What I know is that if your son has done what I suspect he has, the balance of this world, and many more like it, will soon be undone. I was the one who set this in motion, and I will be the one to end it." He snatched one of the gems and clutched it to his chest, while the others continued to circle him. "Farewell, Clanmaster. CHAOS CONTROL!"

There was a brief, blinding flash of light, and Graduon was gone.

"Do you see?" the real Graduon whispered in Kevin's ear. The Jerkop had fallen to his knees in shock, his mouth agape, breathless, speechless, unable to even think after what he had just witnessed. "The Cherokians dared to challenge me, after all I had done for them and their predecessors. Through the power of the crystal, they reached out to a world beyond our own, and were irreversibly corrupted by what they found in the void. I set out to end this, once and for all…but what I found in Cherokia was only the start of mankind's fall into madness."

"I don't…I don't understand any of this…" gasped Kevin, shuddering weakly as he attempted to process the tidal wave of memories that had just slammed into him. "You…created the…"

"The servers are the seven Chaos," recited the ancient spirit, enjoying its captive's surprised reaction. "Chaos is power, power is enriched by the heart. The heart is the controller. The controller serves to unify the Chaos." A grim smile spread across its inhuman face as it placed a hand on Kevin's shoulder. "Do you see now? I created them. I brought them all into being."

"Seven…sacred…stones…" Kevin could hardly keep his voice from shaking. "Arceus, you…"

"Yes, pawn," Graduon chuckled. "But you know them better as the seven Chaos Emeralds."

South CWCville, Slum District, Slumberland, command and control room

"That was the last broadcast we received from SkyRocket's crew," Giovanni stated as he rose to his feet and placed both hands on the conference table. Around the room, Jack Thaddeus, Joshua Martinez, and Lori Lopez stood staring at him worriedly, as if unable to comprehend what they had just listened to. "I don't know what else I can tell you. According to our UAV feed, after Angelica hit the helicopter and we lost contact with the pilot, it spun out of control and crashed on the west side of CWCville Beach, next to the water's edge."

"Anything else?" inquired Jack. Despite his calm tone, it was clear that the Miscreant was doing everything in his power to keep from panicking. "How many active squads do we have here?"

"I'm keeping four grunt squads here for defense." The Team Rocket leader straightened up and adjusted his tie. "The rest have been deployed throughout the Slum, Southern, and Lower Central districts. If you're willing, Mr. Martinez, Ms. Lopez, I could use your assistance with the-"

"No," Joshua said forcefully. "I'm sorry, sir, but we're in no state to head back into combat now. I already lost two Jerkops in Viridian tonight, and the rest of my squad needs sleep and medical attention before we'll be fully effective again. I hope you can understand, sir."

"I do." Giovanni nodded to the Manajerk and his squad leader. "See to your operatives, then. You helped rescue my son, and I won't ask any more of you at this point. Dismissed."

The two Chupacabras saluted and left, passing rows of monitors, radio equipment, and seated operators before disappearing through the command and control room's entranceway. Giovanni watched them go, then looked to the conference screen with a concerned frown.

"Well?"

"There's not enough information to confirm anything yet," announced Jason Kendrick Howell from the control room in Wilderness. Technicians and operators were working feverishly in the background, trying to repair whatever systems they could in the aftermath of Bill Schwartz's sabotage attack. "As far as we know, CWCSPACE One launched without incident, Mary and Clyde made it out alive with the Honey Badgers, and we only lost one helicopter, two pilots, Shaw, and Parker. We're tracking the rocket right now – Ivo's got the satellite set to deploy."

"If Mary and the others survived, they'll try to get here, or to ChinaTown," Jack replied. "The only thing we can do is wait, so let's try and stay focused. Is Vivian-"

"Yeah, I'm just fine, Jack," interrupted Vivian Gee, leaning into the camera frame next to Jason. "You, Clyde, and Giovanni have a lot to answer for about your little campaign, but I can't spare you the time now. We've got more than twenty squads deployed on the east side, not to mention our Transformers and the Asperchu Combo. Any sort of coordinated attack is gonna be useless until we can get Wilderness back online, so keep your squads on the defensive. And while you're at it, it might be a good idea to keep an eye on the perimeter lines over there, just in case."

"I have a maintenance team working to reboot the security system," Giovanni answered. "Even if Dr. Schwartz managed to notify the EHPF or Chandler, they're in no state to launch an attack after what happened tonight. Sonichu's family, the Chaotic Scouts, Crystal Chandler…"

"Once the satellite is successfully locked in orbit, we can begin the broadcast." Jason smiled in satisfaction. "Of course, it's inevitable that the Mayor will deny everything. At this point, though, only the chus will fall for it anymore. And by the time his rebuttal goes up, it will be far too late."

"So we're really holding out for that, then?" asked Jack. "A cry for help? They didn't do jack shit after those fuckers destroyed 4-cent_garbage! What makes you think they'll listen now?"

"America's been ignoring these atrocities for too damn long," snarled Vivian. "But once they see that the creatures they've feared for so long can be taken down by a group of revolutionaries with little to no outside support, I wouldn't be surprised if they start rethinking their agreement."

"Cut off the tugboat, and we sever Chandler's lifeline," Jason added. "Then it's only a matter of time before the Mayor or one of his creations does something incredibly, inevitably stupid. And once the US has a legitimate excuse to intervene, the final curtain falls upon CWCville."

"How poetic," Giovanni commented dryly. "Let me know if anything else happens. Until then-"

"Hey! Boss!" A Team Rocket operative approached, red-faced and short of breath. He looked like he had just sprinted across the entire base. "Huhh…huhh…sorry to disturb you, sir, but…huhh…medics sent me to tell you…Naitsirhc's still out. They had him on painkillers and life support last time I saw him, but they said he was stable for now."

"Thank Arceus," sighed Giovanni. "Mr. Howell, Ms. Gee, if there's nothing else to discuss, I need to attend to my son. Mr. Thaddeus, you're in command of the situation until I return."

"With pleasure," the Miscreant replied, waving a quick goodbye as the Team Rocket leader rose from his seat and departed hastily. Naitsirhc had been placed in a makeshift triage unit upon his arrival to Slumberland, which was located in the now-unused cafeteria on the other side of the HQ. While his time in Kel's custody had crippled the young man both mentally and physically, the recovery effort was proceeding at a steady pace.

"One more thing, Jack," Vivian spoke up. "Just after Schwartz hacked the security network, two of the Honey Badgers made it out of Wilderness, along with a small group of allied mercenaries and civilians. We think they're heading for Slumberland to rendezvous with their squadmates."

"Oh, damn it," groaned Jack. "And let me guess, you want them detained?"

"Only Dexter Booth," ordered the commander. "He's too valuable to risk. Keep him there until further notice, but make sure that the others don't hear about what happened to Kevin Shaw." She glanced at the ceiling. "It's…well…one of the Jerkops who escaped was his older brother."

"The truth'll come out at some point." The Miscreant leaned forward in his chair, suppressing a look of worried anticipation. "It always does, Vivian. As for Shaw, I don't know the first thing about what happened, but I'm just hoping that Mary and Clyde don't end up the same way."

Location unknown

"I traveled to Cherokia seeking answers," Count Graduon proclaimed, motionlessly watching as the projected images of Kevin Shaw's mind took shape to match its own memory once more. "Though I had no way of knowing what lay ahead, I had unwittingly sealed my own fate."

A new scene appeared before them. Trees and plants erupted from the earth, quickly covering the prehistoric landscape with a lush blanket of greenery. It was evening, and the sun had already disappeared behind the Appalachian mountains to the west. Kevin and Graduon stood upon a wide dirt road, which led in a straight path directly towards the massive outer gateway. The city itself wasn't nearly as grand or awe-inspiring as Sawabia had been, but in the time since Cherok's departure, the progress that the colonists had achieved was still rather impressive.

Before Kevin could ask the spirit what had happened, a spinning rainbow light appeared several feet above the ground. The demonic avatar of Graduon flashed into being and touched down on the road, then straightened up to an imposing height of eight feet. The seven Chaos Emeralds hovered around him at first, but through some silent command from their master, the gemstones converged and settled into the folds of his blood red cloak. Armed with the tools to shape the fabric of reality itself, Graduon now appeared nigh unstoppable.

"I believed that Cherok and his followers would lose their will to fight upon witnessing the sheer power I carried," the spirit lamented as its past self raised a fist and pushed the heavy gates open with a blast of energy. "I did not expect resistance, and I was not disappointed."

As the dust and splinters settled, Graduon strode through the gateway, only to be greeted by an ominous silence. There were no warriors, no guards, no frightened colonists fleeing for their lives. The houses and buildings throughout the city were dark and quiet, and all seemed to have been abandoned. The only signs that civilization still existed within Cherokia were the still-burning stone torches that served as streetlights throughout the city. It seemed as if the people had simply been wiped out of existence by some inexplicable event, or…were simply hiding.

Kevin followed the avatar down the main road, passing half-constructed buildings and monuments to the earth spirits as they journeyed toward the temple at the center of the city. Through the hazy memory, the Jerkop could sense apprehension emanating from Graduon, so much so that the hairs on his own arms were starting to prickle up. There was something very, very wrong about this place. Even if it was just a vision, everything looked, sounded, smelled, and felt just as realistic as if he was actually standing in the middle of ancient Cherokia.

"Where…is everyone?" he asked.

Graduon shook its head and raised a hand toward the enormous structure that loomed ahead. The temple had been sealed from within, leaving no doubt as to where the missing colonists now resided. Ahead, the avatar of Graduon slowly ascended the steps to the great stone doorway, placed a hand on its rough surface, and unleashed a second, less forceful psychic wave. With a heavy grinding noise, the doors swung inward, releasing a hot, acrid blast of air into the night.

Covering his nose and mouth, Kevin blinked to clear his stinging eyes and peered ahead, into the heart of the temple. A sea of torchlight lay within, stretching back all the way to the other side of the building. As his vision adjusted to the sudden brightness, the Jerkop could see thousands of Cherokian colonists staring in fear and hatred at the horned creature who had just breached their inner sanctum. Though his face lay hidden behind the bone mask, Graduon's vessel was clearly surprised by such a hostile display.

"Stand back! All of you!" he roared, clenching his clawed fingers into a fist as the crowd closed in. Many of them were carrying torches, knives, and sharp tools. "Keep your distance and I shall not harm you! I only wish to speak to your leader! Bring me to Cherok!"

The heavy doors swung shut, cutting off the ancient spirit's only avenue of escape. Kevin and Graduon turned simultaneously to see a group of twenty Cherokian soldiers emerging from the shadows, armed with spears and steel blades. At the center of the pack stood the new clanmaster himself, now wearing a set of ornate black armor trimmed with blue. Holding the purple Chaotic Crystal out before him, Cherok's eyes glowed with a strange violet light, and seemed to flicker in conjunction with the energy within the crystal. A gold ring encircled his index finger, topped with an oval amethyst gemstone that Kevin could have sworn he had seen somewhere before.

"Cherok!" Surprised, Graduon stepped backward. "I have come to put an end to this foolishness. What have you done to this city? What have you done to your people? Speak now!"

"Ancient One." Cherok smiled, and a flickering blaze ignited at the heart of the Chaotic Crystal. "You still hold dominion over my father's mind, and the minds of the Sawabi. For thousands of years, you have used us as your pawns. You gave us the knowledge to further our people, but as a means to what end?" He raised an accusing finger and pointed it at the spirit's avatar. "This abomination intends to open a gateway between our world and the one from which it emerged! Through the crystal, I have seen what lies on the other side. Death! Madness! Misery! Despair! And if this monster has its way with Cherokia, our world itself shall fall to the chaos!"

"Lies!" retorted Graduon. "I know which realm you speak of, Cherok. I would not dare toy with such unstable power. The energy of that world corrupts all it touches - it cannot be harnessed, not even by the combined strength of the sacred stones. How can you possibly know of it?"

"How?" laughed the clanmaster scornfully, stepping toward his adversary. "I have spoken with the Raven God. I have seen the one who spins the threads of fate. And it had such…answers for us. Your original form. Your place among those of the chaos world. Even…your true name."

"You cannot fathom the destruction you have brought upon them…and upon yourself, Cherok," the spirit hissed. "Whatever spoke to you has planted the seeds of doubt deep within your mind. I fear the corruption has already taken hold. If it spreads, all the blessings I have given the Sawabi will be undone. I sought to aid your race's evolution, and you repay me with treachery!"

"So be it." Cherok motioned to his soldiers, who obediently formed a circle around the pair. "Speak no further lies, Ancient One. I will not sacrifice this city to the whim of a mad god."

"OPEN YOUR EYES, CHEROK!" bellowed Graduon. "YOU ALREADY HAVE!"

"Then perhaps you would like to speak with one of your own!" The young clanmaster's eyes blazed indigo as his fierce cry became a frenzied, inhuman snarl. With a swift movement, he thrust his hand forward, summoning a light from the amethyst gem. Somehow, Graduon managed to snatch one of the Chaos Emeralds and conjure a glowing shield wall before the blue energy beam struck. The explosion sent him crumpling to the floor, winded by the devastating impact. Shaken loose, the other six gemstones spilled out of his cloak, clattering across the stone tiles and bathing the temple in a soft rainbow glow.

The ring, Kevin thought silently as another puzzle piece clicked into place. Cherok's ring. I've seen that before. Chandler found it and…holy shit, that's the Curse-Ye-Ha-Me-Ha!

"Not quite," Graduon murmured. "That silly incantation holds no power. But the bearer of that gemstone and its ring can summon a focused burst of energy greater and more unstable than any found in this world. Cherok and his followers had not only spoken with the voice beyond, but had accepted its offer. And by the time I found them, they understood how to wield that power."

"This is the true form of your god!" Cherok laughed madly, pointing to the crowd as he strode towards his weakened foe. "For too long, you believed the Ancient One was immortal. But what is it without a vessel? This is what the Sawabi follow...a parasite! Take the stones!"

At their clanmaster's command, the soldiers closed in, snatching each of the Chaos Emeralds from where they lay on the floor. Graduon still clung to the last one, drawing whatever arcane energy he could from its core. Despite the avatar's current state, the Cherokian guards wisely kept their distance as they retrieved the gemstones and carried each of them back to Cherok.

"Very good." The clanmaster's eyes flared violet, and the Chaotic Crystal began to glow. "I thank you, Ancient One. The power of one crystal was enough to let me glimpse the immaterial realm, but with seven, I can finally seal the passage between our world and the chaos beyond!"

"You…don't even know…how to…use…the stones…" groaned the spirit, staggering to his feet. "Let this foolishness end. Give them…to me. Give them to me, and I shall set this right."

"No." Cherok lifted the ring toward Graduon. A second blast rang out, and the monstrous avatar collapsed, twitching as unstable energy lashed across his armor. "We should never have trusted you, demon. You claimed to be our salvation, but you would see our world destroyed instead. A world you helped create. A world you claimed to love. And we were nothing but sacrifices!"

"And you trusted this…Raven God?" Graduon wheezed. "What has it done for your people? What has it done for you? For all you know, it could be leading you toward your destruction!"

"You assume I trust the Raven God," answered Cherok as he arranged the six Chaos Emeralds into a circle on the floor. "You assumed that I would be another of your unquestioning servants. You assumed I would let you tear my people apart. This is your failure, Ancient One. Not mine."

"Ha!" The spirit laughed, a bitter, cold chuckle that sent a familiar chill across Kevin's skin. For the first time in this vision, the Jerkop was witnessing a link between the benevolent god of the past and the heartless manipulator of the present. "You are truly naïve, Cherok. You believe you can harness the power within these stones?" He rose to his knees, clutching the seventh gem. "Each of them holds great power, yes, but you will never know their full strength without this."

"And once more, you assume." Kneeling, Cherok placed the single Chaotic Crystal in the center of the ring. Threads of purple light snaked out from the sphere, binding the Chaos Emeralds until all seven were linked. "Do you think that I would just let you enter my city and corrupt my people to further your agenda? I needed the sacred stones to seal you away, Ancient One, and now you have brought them to me." He smiled. "It is time to end this. CHAOTIC CONTROL!"

"NO! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!" Graduon roared desperately. "STOP, CHEROK! STOP!"

Cherok ignored him. The six Chaos Emeralds began to revolve around their new companion, faster and faster, growing brighter and more intense while a noise like that of a hurricane filled the air. As the gemstones flashed with incomprehensible power, a tiny dot of light appeared three feet above the floor. Beyond the bone mask, Kevin saw the first hint of fear shining in Graduon's eyes – an emotion he would never have expected to see from the ancient spirit. The dot grew into a hole, then into a crack, then into a fissure, as the air appeared to bend and distort around it.

Through the widening gate, another landscape emerged. At first, Kevin wasn't sure what he was looking at. It appeared to be a disorganized maze of crystalline structures and fluctuating shapes, interspersed with the constantly-shifting glow of a distant ethereal light. Just the act of staring through the portal was giving him severe dizziness, and he could already feel nausea building in the pit of his stomach. Some of the Cherokians had become transfixed by the sight beyond the rift, but most were shielding their eyes, looking away, or collapsing to the temple floor in awe.

"My ancestors called you into this world, demon!" shouted Cherok, summoning the Chaotic Crystal to his hand with a jolt of psychic energy. "Now, for your treachery, I banish you from it! Return to the chaos realm, and leave us in peace! This is your fate, Ancient One!"

"No, Cherok," growled the spirit, dragging his enfeebled body further and further toward the clanmaster. "This is a death sentence for humanity. And you…have damned them all."

A faint rasping noise came from the madness beyond the gateway. It was a serpent's hiss, a jackal's snarl, a raven's croak, and a sinister cackle, all mixed together to form malevolent, echoing laughter. The sound seemed to fill every inch of Kevin's head, fraying his nerves to the absolute edge. Likewise, the crowd of Cherokian colonists and soldiers began to slowly back away from the portal. Only Cherok, Graduon, and the two observers remained where they stood, all staring and listening as something began to materialize from the crystal maze.

"When the Chaos Emeralds and the Chaotic Crystal were brought together," Graduon spoke to Kevin, "a passage between this world and another reality was ripped open. Beyond the rift lay a dimension I had only a child's knowledge of, a realm of pure chaos. Too unstable to harness and too volatile to use, this tainted energy poured through the gateway unchecked, along with the destroyer, the very thing that had spoken its lies to Cherok and driven the city into corruption."

Kevin didn't need to ask what the aforementioned "thing" was. The screech of some hellish bird rang out as a pair of gnarled, scaly limbs with curved black talons gripped the edge of the portal and began to strain against it, pushing the rift wider and wider to accommodate its twisted form. Its body was colossal, lithe, and distinctly avian in shape, covered in a coat of shimmering dark feathers. A pair of massive wings spread out from its hunched back, and its misshapen torso was draped in tattered, scorched cloth. The beast let out another terrifying cry and tore the gateway open, revealing a long, serpentine neck and a birdlike head. It stared out at the horrified crowd through a pair of glowing yellow eyes, as if hungrily sizing them up.

This is no Pokémon, the Jerkop thought in sudden panic. Nothing of Arceus's creation could be so abnormal, so malevolent, so wrong. Not even Giratina could stand against this abomination. Everything that had happened was pointing him directly toward the answer, but he didn't want to believe that such insanity had happened in the past. And yet, the truth could not be ignored. The worlds had been bridged, just as they had in 2004 with the fateful Dark Mirror incident.

Cherok had just singlehandedly opened a gateway to the Warp.

"Hear us now, great Raven!" shouted Cherok, stepping aside to give the immense creature a look at Graduon's avatar. "In gratitude for all you have shown us, we return your lost brother to you! Take the one that you have demanded, and leave our city in peace!"

The monstrous bird craned its neck toward Graduon, its hooked beak sliding open to reveal a maw filled with sharp teeth. As it exhaled, the temple filled with a choking, noxious rush of hot air and the sound of a rattling breath that quickly became another bout of hideous laughter.

"Just as planned…" it chuckled. "Thank you…pawn."

Raising a hand, the creature reached through the rift and snatched Cherok, fastening its claws around his torso. The opening faltered and threatened to collapse, but before it could, the beast braced itself and began to push its way through. It seemed to take a great amount of effort for it to widen the gap by even a few inches, but if it wasn't stopped, the thing would surely be able to pass through into the world of humanity. Cherok struggled in his captor's grip, cursing and shouting as he frantically pushed and grappled against the scaled fingers and steely talons.

"I know not of this weakling's origin," snapped the Greater Daemon, glancing down at Graduon's avatar. "Oh, I sense power within it, but that potential was long ago squandered. It is of no concern to Lord Tzeentch, that is certain. It sneered. "You believed that I was the Raven God, pawn? No. I merely serve him. And soon, you and your pitiful world shall serve him too!"

Down below, Graduon advanced on the portal, holding the last Chaos Emerald out as a shield against the violent stream of tainted energy pouring through the rift. Behind him, the crowd had devolved into screaming, panic-stricken insanity, beating and clawing at the doors in an attempt to escape. The temple had been sealed to keep Graduon inside, but as such, the Cherokians had essentially trapped themselves. Kevin looked back to see that several of Cherok's guards had begun to change, their flesh melting and twisting as new eyes and mouths erupted from their skin. Men and women collapsed writhing to the floor, clawing at their faces and shrieking with mad laughter as their minds disintegrated. Most were unaffected, but the chaos was spreading further and further with every passing second. If the portal remained open, all would succumb.

"You and your master will never pass through, daemon!" Graduon roared, moving forward one step at a time. Kevin could tell that he was calling upon every last reserve of power to even stand against the Greater Daemon's strength. Had the beast not been occupied with forcing its way through the portal, he would never have stood a fraction of a chance. "This is my world! These are my people! I will not sacrifice them to your god, and I will not let them fall into chaos!"

"Why concern yourself with these vermin?" the winged monster hissed in a voice of mock sympathy. "They will betray you. They already have. The word of Tzeentch cannot be ignored. It was inevitable, just as it always is. A mind that desires power cannot live as a slave forever."

"They are not my slaves, daemon," retorted Graduon. "They never were. They never will be. And I will never let your wicked god claim their lives." Holding out the Chaos Emerald, he closed his eyes and focused on the power burning deep within the stone. "CHAOS CONTROL!"

The air distorted around the Warp rift, and with a deafening crack, the energy bond between the six Chaos Emeralds and the Chaotic Crystal shattered apart. The edges of the portal rippled and began to contract around the Greater Daemon's arms and shoulders, squeezing the massive beast with an incredible amount of force.

"Such power…" it laughed, though its voice was clearly strained now. The daemon was doing all it could to keep the portal from collapsing, but even its great strength could not hold the rift open for long. "Quite similar to our own, in fact. Very interesting. Perhaps you are not as weak as I believed, spirit. No matter. In time, Lord Tzeentch shall take interest in this world again." It looked at Cherok with interest. "Until then, this one shall be a most interesting gift to him."

"No." Graduon raised his other hand, summoning the other six Chaos Emeralds. "Not while I stand between your realm and this one. Go back to your master, daemon! CHAOS CONTROL!"

All seven of the gems flashed at once, and the gateway collapsed, severing the Greater Daemon's arm and hand before it could pull Cherok backward into the Warp. The feathered limb instantly evaporated into multicolored smoke and burst apart around the trapped clanmaster, freeing him from its grasp. Though he was clearly shaken to the core, Cherok appeared to be unharmed. As the portal's remnants shrank and vanished into the air, the sounds of the chaos world faded, leaving only the screams and laughter of the corrupted Cherokians to fill the emptiness.

Graduon staggered another few steps backward and crumpled to the ground, his avatar utterly drained of energy. Blackness began to spread from the corners of his vision, carrying him into unconsciousness as he lay panting on the temple floor. The noises around him faded, and soon, his world had grown quiet again.

"You played your part well, pawn," the Greater Daemon's voice rang through his head, in much the same way as Graduon spoke to Kevin. Since it was a part of the spirit's memory, the Jerkop was able to hear it as well. "You thought you had defeated me? No matter what happens, it all goes just as planned. Tzeentch makes no mistakes. Your civilizations will crumble, your precious humans will burn, and you…well, you will see the downfall of this miserable planet firsthand. Perhaps not now...but soon. Soon..."

The memory ended, and Kevin's mindscape returned to the blank, infinite plane. He turned, but the spirit was no longer behind him. Instead, it had drifted away and was now staring off into space, as if contemplating what it had just shown him. The Jerkop cautiously made his way over to Graduon's side, unsure of what to say to it. What on earthcould he say to it?

"Sometimes silence is the only choice, pawn," the ancient entity answered, reading his thoughts before he could put words to them. "Perhaps I should not have shown you these events."

"I'm glad you did," said Kevin. "Things are actually starting to make sense now. What made you like…that…back then? The horns, the tail, all that demonic stuff?"

"The genetic makeup of my vessels became somewhat altered as generations passed," Graduon replied. It didn't seem angry, and wasn't talking down to him now. It was as if it simply needed to vent some of its past experiences onto someone who had no choice but to listen to it. "Even I do not fully understand what I am, or how I arrived in this reality. Before the Sawabis' ancestors summoned me, I dwelled within the earth itself, along with other spirits like me. Perhaps, in another plane of reality, I resembled one of your so-called demons. Perhaps my old features began to manifest in the human species as I took vessel after vessel to remain alive."

"But you didn't always need a human vessel," countered the Jerkop. "Commander Walsh kept you trapped in that scepter, so obviously you could survive there. How does that work?"

"It was not Slaweel who sealed me away." The spirit's vindictive attitude returned immediately, and any semblance of civility was quickly dashed to pieces. "When I regained consciousness, I found myself betrayed by all I had cared for. The daemon had been right all along, and because of humanity's selfishness and greed, I found myself turned against my own creations. Observe."

In the blink of an eye, Kevin and Graduon were back in ancient Cherokia, standing outside the great temple. It was night, and a funeral pyre blazed in the center of the city, engulfing the bodies of the men, women, and children whose minds had been touched by the Warp. Mercifully, the tainted energy had been confined to just the temple, and the majority of the colonists had made it out alive. The doomed ones had either gone mad, died on the spot, or were otherwise twisted into misshapen atrocities that barely resembled what they had once been.

As the pillar of smoke billowed up into the dark sky, Kevin looked around to see that Graduon's avatar was now chained against a heavy stone block at the head of the pyre. The Chaos Emeralds were gone. To the Jerkop's surprise, Cherok stood alive before the half-conscious prisoner, still wearing the set of black armor and holding the Chaotic Crystal. As Graduon slowly pushed himself upright, the young clanmaster watched, flanked by a mob of Cherokians. Upon noticing that he had been chained to the rock, the avatar impulsively began to struggle against his bonds, pulling with all his might until streams of dark blood trickled from his wrists and ankles. After five minutes, he finally collapsed to his knees, shaking with exhaustion.

"Over fifty of my people now lie within those flames, Ancient One," Cherok spoke, his tone one of harsh accusation. "I intended to banish you to the chaos realm, and instead, your sacred stones brought nothing but death, corruption, and fear to this city. If such power could unlock such a destructive force…" He glared at Graduon. "You built them to open a gateway of your own…a larger gateway, from Sawabia. The seven towers, the altar, the master stone, it all makes sense."

"You…" Graduon choked, fighting against the pain in his limbs. "I saved your damned city, you ungrateful bastard. I saved your people! I saved your damned life! If I had not sealed that rift, you would be writhing in torment at the heart of Tzeentch's realm, for a thousand lifetimes!" Heaving himself upright, he looked out across the sea of accusing faces. "Do you not see the truth? Your clanmaster has made puppets of you! I came here to save your city! I saved you all!"

"You would have given us to the Raven God!" shouted a man from the crowd. "Traitor!"

"TRAITOR!" screamed several more colonists. The cry was soon picked up by those around them, stirred into a frenzy until it became a furious chant. "TRAITOR! TRAITOR!"

"You may very well have sealed the gate," continued Cherok. "For now. But you knew of what lay beyond. You told me yourself – you once glimpsed the chaos world in the ages before you were brought to us. How can we know that you were not born from that same darkness?"

"I am no daemon!" Graduon roared. "I am nothing like that abomination that nearly took your worthless life, Cherok! But by all the powers of the earth, I wish I had allowed it to do so!"

"At last, the truth." Cherok smiled cruelly. "Hear the words of the Ancient One, my brothers and sisters. He would gladly see me silenced for uncovering the depths of his wicked plot! He would gladly see our city razed by an army of nightmare creatures, or crushed beneath the talons of that vile winged beast! Though he is a servant of the Raven God, he shall never corrupt us again!"

Kevin could have punched the clanmaster in the face, had the scene not been just a memory. The sheer blind arrogance of the man was staggering…it was as if he was unable to see any reason through the iron curtain of ignorance he had constructed around himself. But most confusing of all were the reactions of the other Cherokians. The majority were now screaming for Graduon's blood, their opinions easily manipulated by their deep-rooted trust in their leader. Couldn't they see the madness that had engulfed them? Hadn't they watched the spirit close the portal and save their lives? It was almost like…

"Almost like Christian Weston Chandler?" asked Graduon, floating next to the Jerkop as the two of them watched the crowd. "Well done, pawn, well done. For all of his lies and deception and manipulation, he is well and truly a son of Cherokia. In fact, Cherok is his direct ancestor. The ring he wears is no mere high school trinket, but rather…a long-lost family heirloom of sorts."

"That explains a lot," growled Kevin. "What about Cherok's father? What about Sawabia?"

"Clanmaster!" a soldier shouted over the din, pushing through the crowd to reach Cherok. Far away, towards the main gate of the city, the glow of torchlight had appeared beyond the wall. "Clanmaster, we have almost two hundred Sawabi approaching the city! They wish to enter!"

"Then I shall honor their request," replied Cherok. "My father has come with them. Perhaps he and the rest of our visitors would like to know the truth about the Ancient One. Open the gates and release the messengers we took prisoner. We mean no ill intent towards Sawabia, after all."

"They will never believe your lies," spat the spirit's avatar. "The Sawabi clanmaster is a wise leader, and his people have not yet fallen to the deception from beyond. Free me, Cherok, and we can discuss this with your father, like men. Like equals."

"But you are not one of us," Cherok muttered, shaking his head in mock pity. "You are not my equal, demon. You never were our equal. You are a monster, not a man."

Stunned into silence, Graduon could only watch as the clanmaster walked away, accompanied by a small group of soldiers. The crowd drew closer, some of them snatching small pebbles from the ground and hurling them in the avatar's direction. Most of the projectiles simply bounced away after hitting his armor, but a few struck him in the arms and stomach. Graduon didn't even wince from the stoning, but instead seemed to be locked in a catatonic state. As Kevin walked closer, unaffected by the rocks, he was startled to see tears slowly falling from beneath the bone mask.

The sound of approaching footsteps drew the Jerkop's attention back toward the main gate. As the mighty doors swung open, a large collection of Sawabian soldiers marched into the city, leaving several tamed mastodons and Pokémon outside the wall. The Cherokian mob ceased their assault on Graduon and turned to face the newcomers, while Cherok and his retinue made their way to the front of the crowd. Just when it seemed as if the soldiers were going to push their way through, a man shouted a halt order from the rear of the column.

"Welcome," Cherok addressed them, smiling contentedly. "Let us not waste time. The crystal has shown me that my father stands among you. If he wishes to speak with me, I shall accept."

The Sawabians parted ranks, revealing the old clanmaster within their number. Flanked by two elite guardsmen, the elderly man appeared not to have slept since Graduon's departure. In order to reach the city so soon, he and the other soldiers had to have left Sawabia almost immediately afterward. Perhaps he had wanted to see for himself what had become of his son and Cherokia.

"Hello again, Cherok," the clanmaster spoke sternly. "Where is the Ancient One?"

Cherok wordlessly pointed to the stone slab, which Graduon was still bound against.

"What have you done?" The old man hobbled forward with great difficulty, leaning on his stave for support. "What happened, Cherok! Why have you taken him prisoner? Explain this!"

"For hundreds of years, we have listened to nothing but his lies and treachery," Cherok growled, leading his father past the pyre to the chained avatar. "Even I was not immune. I once believed in the Ancient One's words, as you may recall. I thought he was here to guide our people forward, to lead us into new ages of knowledge and prosperity." He spat on the ground at Graduon's feet. "And all the while, he has been leading our civilizations along to further his own vile agenda!"

"He speaks falsehoods, Clanmaster," protested Graduon. "You have known me since your own childhood. I am as much a part of Sawabia as you. What reason would I have to betray you?"

"Even now, he continues to spin his trickery." Cherok gestured to the pyre. "Half a hundred of my people lie dead from his actions, and still the deception continues."

"LIES!" Graduon shouted. "Listen to me, Clanmaster! Listen to reason! Your son doomed those people the moment he chose to toy with the chaos realm! This is his doing, not mine! If I had not intervened, he and all of his followers would be dead, or worse!"

The clanmaster did not speak for what seemed like half a minute. His eyes darted back and forth from Cherok to Graduon, taking in the argument as his son and the ancient spirit shouted their opposing sides of the story at him. At last, he raised a wrinkled hand, and silence was restored.

"Ancient One," he coughed. "If what you say is true…then the seven sacred stones can indeed be used to open doorways to the dark world. Do you deny this?"

"It is true, Clanmaster," answered Graduon. "They hold an ancient power, drawn from the earth itself. For this reason, I have kept the stones sealed within the great temple of Sawabia. They were only meant to aid me in channeling my power. They were never meant to be used for this."

"Then why did you never tell us of their capabilities?"

"Because, Father," Cherok interjected before the spirit could reply, "that was his plan all along. He was playing off of our ignorance, feeding us half-truths and misdirection. In time, he would-"

"Silence, Cherok," the clanmaster admonished his son. "Let the Ancient One speak for himself."

"I knew the stones could be used to create, or to destroy," Graduon continued. "As the guardian of Sawabia and the forger of the stones, I hold the sole responsibility of keeping them from being used against humanity. In time, I intended to pass that duty on to you, once your species had proved itself worthy to wield such power." He shook his head, glaring at Cherok in disgust. "But now I see that I still have a long way to go. I never should have entrusted the crystal to you."

"No, you never should have," agreed Cherok. "By doing so, you exposed your lies to us all."

"But why did you not tell us any of this?" the old man repeated. His expression had progressed from surprise to confusion to dawning comprehension. "I trusted your judgment, Ancient One. I thought my son had surely gone mad. Now you yourself tell me that you have been keeping such dangerous secrets from the Sawabi? You entrusted yourself with the fate of our entire world?"

"I have watched humanity grow from its infancy, clanmaster," snapped Graduon. "I have guided its progress from the end of the frozen age until now. Your kind has come far since then…very, very far. But there are still many years before they will be ready to harness such power."

"Such power…" echoed the clanmaster. "The power over the land and sea and sky, over men and beasts, over time and fate and reality itself." He shook his head sadly. "It was a mistake to bring such a dangerous force into the world, Ancient One. Perhaps we could have learned to use it, one day. Perhaps Cherok is wrong, and you only sought to carry us forward to enlightenment. But this is a risk I am not willing to take. The stones must be destroyed, forever."

"No! They cannot be destroyed!" Graduon shouted. "The energy within each one…if it were to be released, all life on this planet would be wiped out in moments! Free me, and I will seal them away, where no human shall ever find them."

"I cannot allow this," the clanmaster murmured sadly. "I cannot allow the possibility of another rift being opened to the chaos world. Cherok acted foolishly, but he did so with the intention to uncover the truth. And the truth, as we see it, is that you and the sacred stones are too dangerous to exist in this world, Ancient One. I am sorry, but your time with us must now come to an end."

Graduon stared at the man who had just uttered his death sentence, shocked beyond words. The clanmaster nodded apologetically, then looked back to his son and held out his hand. Cherok compliantly passed him the Chaotic Crystal.

"Do not do this, Clanmaster," snarled the ancient spirit. "You have been my friend for many years now. Do not throw it all away on such foolishness. You do not know what you are doing!"

"You have been a great mentor…and a close friend, Ancient One," said the old man. "As such, I cannot bring myself to take your life. Instead, you shall be bound for all time within this crystal, as a testament to the great and terrible power you have brought upon us." He placed the violet sphere on the ground. "Cherok, speak the words, but do not kill him. Seal him away, forever."

"As you command, Father." Cherok's eyes glowed as he drew upon the crystal's energy. "I do this for the good of humanity, demon. Your deception ends now. CHAOTIC CONTROL!"

Graduon's body jerked forward as tendrils of light jumped between him and the Chaotic Crystal, wrenching the possessing spirit from its malformed human vessel. The shriek of some monstrous creature filled the air as a shadow of Graduon's true form briefly flashed into existence – the same form it now existed in at Kevin's side. Before the distorted, shapeless entity vanished into its crystalline prison, it let out a final, psychic cry…a sentence of hatred, sorrow, and vengeance upon those who had betrayed and deceived it.

"I RAISED YOU UNGRATEFUL VERMIN UP FROM THE DIRT," it roared. "I GAVE YOU KNOWLEDGE, WISDOM, ENLIGHTENMENT! I GAVE YOU EVERYTHING, YET YOU CAST ME OUT! YOU HAVE BROUGHT ABOUT YOUR OWN DAMNATION, WRETCHED FOOLS! WHEN THIS SEAL BREAKS, I SHALL TAKE ANOTHER HOST, BUT NOT TO SAVE YOUR PATHETIC RACE! I BUILT THE FOUNDATIONS OF HUMANITY, AND I SHALL BE THE ONE TO TEAR THEM ASUNDER! I WILL EXTERMINATE THIS WORLD AND EVERY LIVING THING THAT STANDS UPON IT! I WILL DESTROY YOU! I WILL DEVOUR Y-"

The crystal flashed, trapping Graduon inside and cutting off his furious tirade. Cherok knelt and picked it up, then turned to the clanmaster with a look of relief.

"It is over, Father," he said softly. "You made the right choice."

"Did we, Cherok?" The old man stared into the depths of the Chaotic Crystal, watching as the energy rippled and shifted inside its amethyst walls. "I know not whether we have saved or doomed our people, but there is no turning back now. The sacred stones must be scattered far and wide, buried in the furthest reaches of the earth. They must never be used for such evil."

"No." Cherok's eyes began to glow again. "I have already claimed them from the Ancient One. Sawabia has grown enough with their aid, and now that I possess them, Cherokia's strength shall rise to equal that of the First City. Our civilizations will prosper together, Father. What say you?"

"You are a fool if you believe I will allow you to keep them for yourself," growled the Sawabi clanmaster. "Have you ignored all that has happened so far, Cherok? We cannot use this power without endangering our people! If another rift were to be opened-"

"Go back to your city, Father," commanded Cherok. His grip had tightened around the crystal. "Lead them as the Ancient One taught you to lead. I already know how to harness the strength of this crystal, and with all seven sacred stones, think of the potential I could unlock! Think of what this could mean for Cherokia, Sawabia, and our descendants still to come!"

"Oh, I know what it means," the old man countered, driving his stave into the ground. "You seek to defy the elements, to shape the world to your whim. You would use the sacred stones and the crystal to control the order of nature itself, rather than live in unity with it as we have done. You would endanger all we have worked to achieve, to feed your own power-hungry dreams." He turned away from his son, striding back toward the group of Sawabian soldiers. "I will not fight you, Cherok. You hold the sacred stones, and I know that a confrontation will only end in my death, and the slaughter of my people. You are still my son, but I cannot allow you or your people to return to Sawabia. You are on your own from now until the end of time, and the fate of your city will be whatever you make of it. As I said so many years ago, no matter what may come of this, history will remember you as what you chose to be." He sighed. "Goodbye, Cherok. Remember my words."

"Oh, I will," laughed Cherok as the clanmaster and his soldiers made their way toward the gates. "And I promise you, Father…long after I am dead and gone, none shall remember Sawabia."

"He was right," Graduon muttered bitterly as it returned to the empty void with Kevin. "Only the ruins of Cherokia still exist to this day, and within them lie the relics of that doomed civilization. You have seen a few with your own eyes…the ring, the medallions, my scepter-"

"Huh?" The Jerkop looked confused. "The medallions? Like…the Sonichu ones?"

"Exactly," said the entity. "I am getting to that. The Chaotic Crystal that I was sealed inside was attached to the scepter and entombed in a crypt deep beneath Cherokia. During my imprisonment, I tested the limits of my psychic strength, and discovered that I was sometimes able to project myself outside of the tomb. I had no power in such a form, but I could see the world above as time passed on. And what I saw…what I saw was truly extraordinary."

Time began to move rapidly again, and through the swirling images, Kevin was able to discern several of the more interesting ones. With their rekindled lust for knowledge and power, the Cherokian clan began to push the limitations of their science far beyond anything humanity had seen before. Seven new Chaotic Crystals were created to expand the already frightening power of the Chaos Emeralds, along with a large orange gem to act as their controller – the Master Sunstone. Weapons and jewelry were forged, infused with elemental energy that could reduce trees to splinters or allow the bearer to conjure flame from the air itself. It seemed as if the civilization had no boundaries…that their abilities could only grow more and more potent. As the years raced by, some of the newborn Cherokian children began to display extraordinary abilities – telekinesis, heightened senses, even the power to shift from place to place at will. Soon, some of them could communicate with each other through their minds alone. The next frontier of humanity lay ahead, and the clan was rushing forward at a maddening pace to reach it.

At the apex of this technological renaissance, Kevin glimpsed something unbelievable. No longer limited to manipulating the elements of the earth, the artisans and smiths of Cherokia pushed past their previous moral limitations and began to experiment with living things - plants, animals, and Pokémon. Machines were created to control life itself – giving will and sentience to inanimate objects, transforming plants into animals and vice versa, and other odd and frightening tools to shape the natural world around them. But despite this progress, the city did not dare to take the next step, and attempt to alter or improve the human species.

Until, at last, the medallions were forged.

Revelation after revelation exploded across Kevin's mind as he watched the piece of empowered jewelry emerge from a Cherokian furnace, its surface glowing with arcane power. The first man to touch it was forever bound by its intangible link, and in return, the bearer of the medallion was granted a formerly unimaginable ability…to transform his or herself into an animal or Pokémon. Though the powers reset upon the owner's death, whichever creature had been bound to the medallion remained constant throughout the years, and could only be assigned by being brought before a special binding shrine with an unbound medallion, along with its master.

That's how he did it, thought Kevin. The mysteries of Chandler's rise to power were becoming clearer and clearer with every scene Graduon was showing him. Though the Cherokian and Sawabian civilizations were both long gone…the ancient spirit had said that some of their artifacts had survived. What if, somewhere down the line, Christian or even his father, Robert Chandler, had unearthed one or two of them during the founding and expansion of CWCville?

And what if Chandler, given his ancestry, was naturally capable of operating said artifacts?

"It was the beginning of the last age," continued Graduon. The story seemed to be bringing back what little humanity had once dwelled within the spirit, and its condescending, superior tone was now replaced by one of regret, of loss, of bleak disappointment. "Though the old clanmaster had long since passed away, Sawabia's new leaders grew wary of Cherokia's rise, and were revolted by their disregard for the balance of nature. They sent envoys and diplomats to the city, but try as they might, Cherok simply would not listen to their words. Under the clanmaster's direction, a great machine was forged, a sort of creation engine, capable of turning any organic material into whatever creature the user thought of…even another human being."

As it spoke, time slowed, and Kevin saw the device emerge piece by piece. Plants and small creatures were placed inside it, and as Cherok took his place at the controls, freakish constructs of flesh and blood began to take shape in the bubbling creation vats. Only when Cherok at last ordered one of his own subjects to be restrained and placed in the machine did Kevin realize just how corrupted the civilization had become by its own lust for progress.

"After learning of this, Sawabia had no choice but to intervene," the ancient spirit sighed. "The cities, long divided by their silent feud, finally went to war."

South CWCville, Slum District, Slumberland perimeter gate

"Captain's Log, stardate...now." Stifling a yawn, Samantha Lynn leaned back against the chain link fence and rolled her eyes as she spoke into a small digital recorder. "We're still waiting to hear from the admins about reassignment to active combat duty. Or about anything. Not gonna lie, our chances aren't looking too good at this point. I don't know if Manny's doing any-"

"Yeah, Sam, I meant to ask..." Wayne Fitzgerald interrupted, looking up at his squad leader. He, Adam Jenkins, and Tony Sanders were all seated, warming themselves at a small fire beside an inactive S.A.V. mech while Kamau Nkechi and Darren Harkenson kept watch at the perimeter gate. "You gonna keep making those audio logs all night? 'Cause it's kinda starting to, well..."

"Annoy everyone?" Tony piped up.

"Arceus." Sam sighed and clicked off the recorder. "Fine. No point, anyway. So, what do you guys want to do?"

"When do you think we'll get to see Al and Steve and the Badgers again?" asked Jenkins. "They've gotta be on their way back by now if they broke Commander Walsh out of jail, right?"

"They will be." Beside the gate, Darren gazed out at the fiery glow rising from the eastern districts. "If any Jerkop squad could do something like that, it's gonna be them."

"Well, you're certainly in a good mood, Darren," Sam added, and detached a single walkie-talkie from her flak jacket. "Devil Lead to Devil Command. Manny, pick up."

"Right here, Sam," answered Manuel Boddy. From the sound of it, the Red Devils Manajerk was seated inside the command and control room, acting as the squad's operator and its commander at the same time. Having been confined to a wheelchair since the early years of the resistance, he was naturally suited for a more tactical position than most Manajerks. "How's it look out there?"

"Cold. Dark. Boring." The squad leader was in no mood for small talk. "Manny, the war's gonna be over by the time we get back to combat. Do we have an ETA on the system reboot? Over."

"No luck on that front," Manuel replied apologetically. "Whatever Schwartz did, he screwed our mainframe through and through. Turrets out, perimeter alarm out...we're dead in the water until they finish the reboot. I've been listening in on Commander Thaddeus and Giovanni, but I'm only getting bits and pieces of the whole story. We'll have to assume Schwartz wasn't lying about his call for reinforcements. Keep your heads up and call in if you see-"

"Listen!" Kamau shouted, raising his light machine gun to fire. "Vehicle incoming! There!"

Darren and the rest of the squad perked up immediately. Beyond the chain link fence, the roaring of some immensely powerful engine rose above the wind, alerting the Jerkops to its presence. It sounded only a few blocks away, and the distance was shrinking by the second.

"Son of a bitch," snarled Sam. "Manny, we might have an inbound vehicle. Any squads coming back from the field? Over!" Drawing her sidearm with her free hand, she looked at the other Red Devils and began dealing out orders left and right. "Adam, Tony, set up and cover the approach from the sides! Wayne, throw some C4 over the wall and get ready to detonate! Darren, Kamau, fire on my mark!" She turned back to the radio. "Manny, I need a yes or no! Over!"

"...got multiple reports from the other sentry units, it's too big to be EHPF and there's only..."

"We need to confirm it." Jack Thaddeus interrupted the speaker in the background. "Get the operatives on the line. Someone patch me through to the squad at the north gate, now!"

"Yes, Commander!" said Manuel. "Channel's open, sir. It's my squad, the Red Devils."

"Good work, Boddy," replied the Miscreant. "Devil Lead, Commander Thaddeus here. This is a direct order – do not engage the target vehicle until it's within sight. Repeat, do not engage the target until you get a clear visual. We're expecting a transport inbound from Wilderness, over."

"Copy and confirm, HQ!" yelled Sam. "Operatives are in position and awaiting your orders, sir!"

"Transport?" Tony looked to his squadmates. "What's going on?"

"Reinforcements," Darren answered. "About time. Keep your eyes on the road, Tony."

A pair of headlights flashed into view, one block down the street. Through the bright beams, the small Jerkop squad could barely make out the shape and size of the transport. It was at least thirty to forty feet long, and resembled some kind of armored personnel carrier or battle tank. None of the Red Devils had ever seen a vehicle like it in CWCville before. The closest thing they could compare it to was one of Robotnik's Transformer drones or their own transport vehicle – an armored dump truck which Sam had affectionately nicknamed "Diabolus the Vindicator".

"C4 going out!" Wayne announced, hastily heaving a block of plastic explosives onto the road beyond the gate and switching on the remote in his other hand. "Ready to detonate, Sam!"

"Hold!" ordered the squad leader. "Hold! It's stopping!"

The vehicle ground to a halt in front of the gate, its engine rumbling as white clouds of steam billowed from its cooling vents. A door swung open on the side, and two men stepped out into the snowy street. Both carried sniper rifles, and were wearing heavy winter gear over their combat armor. Through the front window of the transport, Darren and Kamau noticed it was filled with a motley collection of soldiers and several people who appeared to be civilians.

"Far enough!" Sam yelled, taking aim at the arrivals with her Saiga-12 shotgun. "This is Samantha Lynn of the Red Devils squad! Identify yourselves, or we will open fire!"

"DIABLOS ROJOS!" The sniper on the left stepped forward into the transport's headlights, revealing a wide, excited grin. "How's it going, you sons of bitches? Haven't seen you guys since last August! Why didn't you ever come and visit me, huh?"

Sam recoiled. "Nick?"

"Yep, it's us, Sam!" Nate Shaw added, joining Nick Martinez in front of the rebuilt Battle Bus. "Good to be back! Can you get the gates open so we can park this thing in the garage?"

"Devil Lead, what's going on? Who is it? Over."

"We've got two Badgers coming home, sir." Sam smiled, holding up her radio as the Red Devils, Nick, and Nate piled into a group hug around her. "Shaw and Martinez. And it looks like they brought some heavy firepower and reinforcements. Permission to bring 'em in? Over."

"Granted. Bring them straight to the command and control room. Commander Thaddeus out."

The squad leader beckoned to Kamau and Darren, who promptly unlatched the security gate and pulled it open to let her through. Wayne, Jenkins, and Tony hurried after her, scarcely able to believe their eyes. In the midst of so much chaos, the sudden reunion was a welcome relief, a chance for the operatives to briefly forget about the citywide uprising.

"Arceus." Tony whistled in admiration as he stepped up to examine the armored behemoth which had once been a mere school bus. "Is this thing the Battle Bus? What the heck happened to it?"

"Dr. Robotnik happened, that's what," Nate replied. "Had to pull a few strings, Patrick Ryan got involved, and the next thing we know, we're driving the Magic Death Bus out of Wilderness and right through the center of the uprising. What've you guys been up to since Hedgeclipper?"

"They put us on guard duty," Sam explained. "We've been trying to get a transfer order back into combat duty, but the admins are too busy worrying about...well, the rest of your squad, I guess."

"Join the club," grumbled Nate. "They aren't back yet, are they?"

The squad leader shook her head. "The admins aren't saying much, but last we heard, they were busting Walsh out of prison. Something to do with Clyde Cash, I think." She looked back toward Slumberland, then pointed to the Battle Bus. "Look, we'll catch up later. Right now, we need to get you and the rest inside. Command wants an update. Maybe they'll have some answers, too."

"It'd be a nice change of pace for once," Nick scoffed as he and his squadmate retreated into the armored, rumbling behemoth. "Wish us luck, guys. Adios!"

Location unknown

"Twenty-seven years from when I was sealed, it was decided among the clan elders of Sawabia that the misdeeds of their former colony could go unaddressed no longer,"Graduon said, its voice weary as it watched Kevin intently. "Without a successor to the old clanmaster, the city would be looked after by the men and women of the council, and a lone warrior was called upon to lead their military against those who remained loyal to Cherok. Though I would never forget my betrayal, I developed an interest in this young man...Asila, Warmaster of the Sawabi."

Another memory took shape as stone walls, monuments, and temples rose from the dreamscape. Kevin recognized the familiar landmarks of Sawabia before the scene had finished forming, but in the three decades since Graduon's entrapment and the loss of the Chaos Emeralds, the ancient metropolis seemed to be growing stagnant. No longer a beacon of progress and knowledge, most of its architectural wonders had fallen into disrepair. Cracks and crevices now decorated the walls and roads, and many buildings were little more than dust and rubble. Without the spirit or a united leadership to guide them, the Sawabi people appeared distraught and demoralized, barely clinging on to a distant hope that their world would find balance again.

All of this...all of these people...wiped out of history, the Jerkop thought, looking sadly around the city square. It was mostly deserted, apart from a few traders, some soldiers, and a group of boys and girls splashing and playing together in one of Sawabia's great fountains. Despite the faded grandeur and oncoming decay surrounding him, it was still hard to believe that practically nothing remained of the world's oldest known civilization.

Whatever unspeakable doom had befallen the Sawabi, Kevin knew he was about to find out.

As the two observers walked through the streets, a sense of ever-present fear hung across the city like dark storm clouds. There wasn't any sort of starvation or civil unrest or disease outbreak or anything of the like...just a lingering dread of the future soon to come. Though none would speak of Cherokia, Kevin could tell that it was overshadowing the entire city and everyone in it. By now, the people had to have known of the atrocities against nature that Cherok was committing, and of the frightening potential for the Chaos Emeralds to be used as instruments of destruction.

"They brought it on themselves," Graduon said in a cold, pitiless tone. "You humans always fear what you cannot understand. When you fear something, you make it your enemy. When you make it your enemy, you give it the power to destroy you. And when you grant it that potential, you attempt to destroy it before it does the same to you. These were the sins of Cherokia and Sawabia."

Kevin opened his mouth to object, but no words would come. He'd seen it with his own eyes – the paranoia, the naïveté, the prejudice displayed by Cherok, his followers, and the Sawabi clanmaster. Every civilization he could think of was rife with violent and terrifying examples of how fear had brought about censorship, oppression, genocide, and war. Was it all just an undeniable part of human nature, as the spirit now claimed? Had it been right all along?

"Asila was one of the few Sawabi who remained loyal to my teachings." Graduon stopped and gazed down the street, drawing Kevin's attention toward a trio of soldiers. At the head of the group stood a man wearing a simple iron armor chestplate over a light orange and yellow robe decorated to look like dancing flames. A sword and knife hung from his belt, and his stance was that of a seasoned fighter. However, he was noticeably young, no more than twenty-five. "I sensed great potential in him, the same potential that I had hoped Cherok would fulfill."

"Directly attacking the colony would be catastrophic," stated a warrior. "Surely the council must know of the devastation that Cherok and his queen could unleash upon our city and our people."

"Huh?" Kevin looked to Graduon for an answer. "What queen?"

"Cherok took a wife shortly after he severed all ties with his father," said the spirit. "Nilada, one of the few warriors that Cherok entrusted with guarding the Chaos Emeralds. She was more than willing to accept a role with such authority, for it gave her access to power beyond her dreams."

"They know," Asila insisted. "We all know, Kalona. The council has left the details of our assault in my hands, and I intend to see it through to its end. This war must happen, one way or another."

"Very good, Warmaster." Kalona turned to go, then stopped. "What should we tell our soldiers?"

"Tell them the truth," answered the young commander. "We have trained, we have practiced, and we have kept our skills honed, but never before have we faced a conflict or an enemy like this." He sighed. "But we cannot allow our brothers and sisters to continue on this twisted path. They have betrayed the spirits of the earth. Balance must be restored, and the corruption ended."

"And what of the sacred stones?" a female warrior asked in a hesitant voice. "The Cherokians will surely use them against us if we lay siege to their city."

"We need not fear the seven, Leyatsi," declared Asila. "Cherok and his followers will summon every nightmarish power at their disposal to destroy us. But should they turn the sacred stones against our people, it will only result in their downfall." He nodded determinedly. "I will have a battle plan tonight. We leave for Cherokia in two days. Until then, make ready for war."

The scene ended abruptly. Kevin looked back to Graduon, expecting another explanation. The spirit, however, did not appear to be paying any attention to him. In fact, it looked...sad.

"I sometimes find myself wishing that I could have warned the Sawabi," Graduon murmured to the Jerkop. "They had no idea of the destruction that would soon fall upon their homeland. But I could not bring myself to forgive my betrayers. Not after what they did to me. I still cannot."

"What happened to them?" Kevin took a step toward the spirit. "What happened to the Sawabi?"

"In the years between my sealing and the beginning of the great feud, Cherokia had been waging a silent war against their former allies. Sawabia was infiltrated by agents loyal to Cherok, who worked to pass information between the two cities. The long-term goal, of course, was to scare the elder council into a declaration of war, thus giving the Cherokians a reason to begin their own invasion. They knew of the Sawabians' plans, and launched a first strike without warning."

"You mean..."

"It was far too late for Asila," answered Graduon. "Cherok's army was already on the move, marching north with the intent to conquer the city and add it to their nascent empire. Though the Cherokians were fewer in number, they had their clanmaster and Nilada, the Chaos Emeralds, and the Chaotic Crystals on their side. Their civilization had been given ample time to prepare for war, and it seemed as if the Sawabi were facing genocide on an unprecedented scale."

The air filled with the sharp, pungent smells of blood and smoke. Kevin and the ancient spirit found themselves standing on the battlements of the city, surrounded by dozens of Sawabi bowmen, slingers, and soldiers. Arrows and stones rained down upon a bristling mass of infantry, while fireballs and bolts of energy struck back against the beleaguered defenders. The Cherokians were attempting to breach the gate with a sort of battering ram – an iron-plated tree trunk suspended from four armored mastodons. About a mile away from the city, Kevin could see the Cherokian war camp – dozens and dozens of small tents encircling a single large one. It was undoubtedly Cherok's command tent, though the Jerkop could not see the clanmaster.

Below, the land around Sawabia's road and the main gateway was almost unrecognizable now. It resembled the aftermath of a fierce carpet bombing campaign, with fires blazing and grey smoke billowing over the battlefield. The city walls were marred with scorch marks and craters, dozens of corpses decorated the ground, and the surrounding forest had been set alight. The Jerkop had never seen a battle of this size in his life. It felt as if he was standing on the set of some historical epic and watching the actors wage war. But Graduon had seen it firsthand, and now Kevin was experiencing the spirit's memory as it had all happened. The war was a piece of history lost by time, a window to the forgotten past.

"The siege began in the middle of the night, while those in the city slept." Graduon drifted past a group of Sawabi healers attempting to treat a severe burn on a wounded archer. Many defenders lay dead, dying, or moaning in pain, while their comrades continued to fight around them. "As soon as the alarm was raised, Asila managed to hold off the first assault through an improvised defense. At this time, Sawabia has held out for nearly a day and a half."

"TAKE THEM DOWN!"

Kevin looked toward the shout to see Asila standing on the wall above the gate, outfitted in the ornate iron armor and fiery robes of a Sawabi commander. Beside him, teams of warriors strained against great chunks of rubble harvested from collapsed buildings within the city, rolling them off of the battlements and onto the enemy forces below. One of the mastodons let out an agonized bellow as the falling stone block smashed into its shoulder, shattering it and causing the great beast to collapse. The battering ram fell, bringing down the other three mastodons and crushing several Cherokian soldiers in the chaos. An enthusiastic cheer rang out from the Sawabians as their foes hastily drew back out of range to regroup and tally their losses.

"Again, Warmaster!" panted Kalona, grinning as he wiped a line of blood from his face. A piece of jagged rock had sliced a cut across his forehead, the result of a Cherokian energy blast. "Again, they fall back! This battle may yet turn in our favor!"

Asila shook his head. "Cherok will never allow us to win. No matter how many times we push his army back, he will press the assault again and again until the walls of Sawabia are nothing but dust. He controls the sacred stones, and his followers would gladly give their lives for him."

"We can only delay the inevitable with this strategy." Kalona sank to the floor, leaning back against the heavy stones to rest. "We cannot fight forever, Asila. Their weapons are like nothing we have seen, and I believe Cherok has only given us a glimpse at his full strength."

"Agreed." The young commander placed a hand on his friend's shoulder and knelt by his side. "And it is our task, as Sawabia's defenders, to make him use that full strength against us. We must draw out this battle as long as we can. We must provoke our enemy into desperation, force him to make an irreparable mistake. Only then will victory be within our reach." He rose to his feet, pulling Kalona up with him. "I have a plan that may save all of our lives."

Night became dawn, and dawn became day. The Sawabi soldiers atop the wall grew fewer and fewer in number, as fire, lightning, and arrows from the Cherokian army cut them down one after another. Surrounded by the bodies of their dead comrades, they stood unrelenting. With Asila's words of encouragement pushing them onward, surrender or negotiation was out of the question.

On the third night, a multitude of screeches and the flapping of great wings arose from the enemy camp. As Asila and the Sawabians readied themselves for this new opponent, dark clouds rolled across the skies above the battlefield. Thunder boomed overhead, and in the resulting flash of lightning, the shadow of some monstrous bird of prey ascended from the Cherokian lines. Its feathered wings stretched nearly fifty feet from tip to tip, and its yellow eyes glowed brightly in the gathering storm. Raising its head, it let out a piercing cry, then folded its massive wings and swooped down toward the top of the Sawabi battlements, its talons outstretched.

"Cherokia had been engineering many new and terrifying beasts using the creation engine," Graduon remarked as the colossal raptor began snatching and devouring the terrified defenders one by one. "The Thunderbird was their clanmaster's most treasured creation – a relentless killing machine which held dominion over storms."

Emboldened by the Thunderbird's successful strike, the Cherokians resumed their assault on the city. Up on the wall, Asila, Kalona, Leyatsi, and the soldiers under their command were locked in a losing battle with the avian titan. Arrows and slingstones could not punch through its thick coat of feathers, and any Sawabi brave enough to engage it in close combat were quickly shredded by its claws. Bolts of electricity sizzled from its wings with every deafening flap, and every few minutes, it would open its hooked beak and breathe forth a violent blast of lightning and wind.

A flaming arrow hit the Thunderbird's wing and bounced off, singeing its flight feathers. Three more struck in quick succession, each starting a small fire where it had touched the great bird. As the Sawabi soldiers hurled torches and showered it with dozens of blazing arrows, the creature let out a pained, terrified cry and flapped backwards in an attempt to escape the fire. But it was too late. Try as it might, the Thunderbird could not smother the hungry flames, and soon, its body and wings had become a crackling inferno. Shrieking, it flapped back across the battlefield and plummeted into the midst of the enemy camp, setting tents alight in its death throes.

"The death of his beloved Thunderbird was the tipping point for Cherok," said Graduon. "and a commander such as Asila was just the target he needed. So it was that he sent them an envoy."

Dawn had risen, and Kevin stood before the open gate, behind Asila. A lone woman approached from the road, her eyes glowing with an ominous blue light. Her attire was little more than a series of cobalt plates resembling a bikini, held together by what looked like threads of energy. A longbow rested in a sling across her back, and her wrists were covered by a pair of purple gauntlets inscribed with gold lightning bolt symbols. Despite such revealing armor, Nilada didn't seem to care in the slightest about her appearance. She showed no hesitation as she strode toward the warmaster, proudly staring at the tired Sawabi as if they were vermin cowering at her feet.

"Queen Nilada of Cherokia," spat Asila, barely able to disguise the contempt in his voice. "I am Asila, Warmaster of the Sawabi. You are here to deliver our terms of surrender, I take it?"

"Oh, no." Nilada smiled coldly. "I am afraid that reaching peace will not be so easy. We already know that you will refuse any demand for surrender or a ceasefire, but my beloved...desires to test the skill of his opponent. A demonstration of what awaits you if you continue to resist." She looked from Asila to Kalona, then to Leyatsi. "Send forth your finest warrior to meet the Clanmaster in single combat. If he admits defeat, we shall withdraw and leave your city in peace. If your champion falls, then the siege continues. Eventually, your city will fall."

"A tempting offer," Kalona sneered. "You must think us blind and stupid, traitor. What good is the word of a coward? What honor is there in an unmatched battle between one of us and one who wields the energy of the chaos realm? We will not agree to this foolishness."

"My husband is no coward, Sawabian dog," retorted Nilada, and flung a disc-like object to the ground at Asila's feet. "He will meet your champion as an equal in power. The battle will be one of skill alone. He sends this amulet as a token of his promise. Wear it, and one may wield fire and lightning as swiftly and skillfully as a blade or bow." She glared at the Warmaster. "The duel will begin at dusk. Cherok will meet your chosen warrior on the field, alone."

"And why should we trust that your soldiers will not intervene in the fight?" asked Leyatsi.

Nilada scoffed. "Then send an honor guard, if you must. Judging by how many of you are left, it will most likely be made up of all your remaining soldiers." She turned her back on the Sawabi, sending a last taunting look towards Asila. "I will enjoy this battle, Warmaster. Choose wisely."

The Sawabi commander knelt and retrieved the small gift, holding it up to study it closely. It was carved from grey stone, emblazoned with orange and yellow gems carved into a flame and a lightning bolt. Kevin could feel intense energy radiating from its surface, and as Asila fastened it around his neck, the amulet and his own eyes both began to glow with a fiery red light. This was the Fireshock Pendant – the same amulet that now rested in Wes Iseli's possession. But how could it have contained the power to transform its wearer into an Electric Hedgehog Pokémon? The chus wouldn't show up until thousands of years later, so how would they have...

"You ask too many questions," Graduon warned him. "All will be revealed in time. Now listen."

"The traitor queen speaks the truth," Asila growled, clenching his hand into a fist as a blistering fireball took shape around it. "There is a great energy within this, but I doubt Cherok would risk his life in a fair fight. The duel will be nothing more than making an example of our champion. He wants me eliminated. He wants to shatter our morale by killing and humiliating me. And he knows that I would never send one of you in my place."

"Let me duel him, Asila," insisted Kalona. "If I fall, I know you will defend this city to the last breath. I will do my best to buy you enough time to see your plan fulfilled."

"I would not dare to send such a fine warrior to his death," Asila replied. "Nor would I dare to sacrifice you, Leyatsi, nor any of the brave men and women who have stood beside me through this battle." He smiled knowingly. "If my plan is to work, then I must face Cherok tonight. If we want to save Sawabia from annihilation, then I need you to stand with me now."

"Always, Warmaster," Kalona murmured. Around him, Leyatsi and the group of Sawabi warriors nodded in solemn agreement. "We will stand with you, even to the end."

"It has been an honor." The young commander bowed his head. "Listen to me now, brothers and sisters! Our city may fall, but we cannot let our people be destroyed by the traitors at our gate. Through our actions here, the Sawabi will survive! Listen! This is what we must do."

Another flash forward, and Asila strode across the ruined battlefield, accompanied by Kalona, Leyatsi, and six of his honor guard. A band of elite soldiers in blue crystalline armor approached from the Cherokian camp, led by Nilada. Behind them, four men carried a heavily decorated litter covered by a cloth canopy, straining under the weight of the vehicle and its occupant. Kevin knew it could only be the clanmaster. No other Cherokian could have possibly been this vain.

"Clanmaster!" Asila declared, stepping forward away from his guards and lieutenants. The Fireshock Pendant hung around his neck, blazing brightly in the sunset's last rays. "I am Asila, Warmaster of the Sawabi. I accept your challenge, in the name of those who have fallen to your treachery and greed! Face me now, and I will show you the true spirit of our people!"

"How amusing," a voice chuckled from within the litter. "The elders are truly desperate, sending a child to challenge a god."

The curtains drew back as Cherok emerged, his body levitating over the field through some form of advanced psychic power. Kevin could hardly believe what he was looking at, but it was very clearly the same man who had sealed Graduon all those years ago. As the spirit had told him, time and corruption had ravaged the clanmaster's features. Toned muscles had given way to a growing layer of fat, and Cherok's formerly bronze skin now held a sickly hue. The Cherokian crown encircled his forehead, while his battle armor and cloak glowed with strange energies.

Kevin had believed it based on Cherok's personality alone, but now he held no doubt of the link to the clanmaster's distant descendant. The family resemblance was too perfectly matched.

"You are no god, traitor," retorted Asila, unfazed by the clanmaster's appearance. "We know of the old stories and your vile deeds. We know you betrayed your own father...our leader. We know of the power you wield so carelessly to spread your city's corruption across the land." He reached for the sword on his belt, drawing it with a single swift motion. Flames erupted from the handle and spread along the blade, until the entire weapon was engulfed in fire. "The sacred stones are not yours to wield, Clanmaster. Return them to Sawabia, and no more lives will be lost today."

"Ha!" laughed Cherok. "Do you mean these sacred stones, boy?" Raising both hands to the side, he closed his eyes and summoned a burst of psychic energy. The seven Chaos Emeralds emerged from the litter, hovering around their master just as they had done to Graduon so many years ago. "Please, do not hesitate to reclaim them...if you can best me in combat, that is."

Asila nodded and unfastened his own cloak, giving himself more freedom to move around. As the Sawabi and Cherokian soldiers backed away from the two combatants, Cherok lowered the seven glowing gems to the ground and began circling his opponent. He had refused to bring a weapon of his own, save for the amethyst ring resting around his index finger.

"I admire your devotion, Sawabian," the clanmaster sneered mockingly. "You believe you stand a chance here? I defeated the Ancient One! I struck down the Raven God! Who are you to chal-"

A column of flames exploded from beneath Cherok, catapulting him away as Asila charged with a savage yell. Caught off guard by the swiftness of his enemy's attack, he somehow managed to conjure an energy barrier in time to avoid all but a few burns to his arms and legs. The subsequent strike from Asila's sword would have surely cloven him in two, had Cherok not vanished into space and reappeared behind the Sawabi warrior in a burst of violet light. Asila whirled to parry the inbound attack, but received a sharp punch to the side of his head. Reeling back a few steps, he raised a hand and blasted Cherok with a bolt of lightning, but instead of connecting, the bolts rebounded harmlessly into the dirt. A cruel grin spread across the Cherokian leader's gaunt face as he touched down on the battlefield, his eyes shining maliciously.

"Clever," he growled, and lunged with the ring. "I look forward to watching you die, Sawabian!"

Asila hurled himself out of the way as an indigo beam of otherworldly energy tore through the air with a sound like a cyclone's roar. Before Cherok could fire off another Curse-Ye-Ha-Me-Ha, the warmaster was upon him, striking and stabbing frantically in an attempt to pierce through. Again and again the burning sword deflected off the invisible barrier, but Asila was undeterred. Conjuring a sphere of electricity around his free hand, he punched the shield and unleashed the pent up force in a crackling surge. Cherok braced himself for the powerful attack, barely keeping his protective field intact as the lightning lashed and sizzled in front of him.

"You will not take our city!" roared Asila, and blasted Cherok with a stream of white-hot fire. "You will never hold dominion over my people! You think we will lay down our weapons before your cursed magic? We are not your slaves, traitor! We are the Sawabi clan!"

"WEAKLINGS!" the clanmaster shouted, hurling Asila a good ten feet backwards with a psychic blast. Sweat dripped from his doughy face as he advanced, gripping his foe in a paralyzing hold. "You and the rest of your pathetic clan dared to defy the might of sacred Cherokia! I made a vow to my father on the day I sealed the Ancient One...a vow to wipe every last remnant of your kind from the face of the earth! And once I kill you, I shall fulfill that promise, Sawabian!"

Asila's frantic struggles did little to aid his predicament. The invisible bonds were keeping him in place, and without a means of escape, the next attack from Cherok would surely kill him. Looking around at the spectators, he caught a glimpse of Nilada's triumphant smile, the horrified faces of his elite warriors, and the stares of disbelief from Leyatsi and Kalona. No. He couldn't die now. Not when the plan was so close to completion.

"Tell me, Sawabian, will you beg?" growled Cherok, summoning energy from his ring for a killing blast. "Maybe I should leave you alive, to watch as I raze your city to the-"

A cloud of smoke burst outward from Asila, blanketing the battlefield in choking grey fumes. Cherok and the spectators barely had time to draw breath before they vanished into the darkness, along with Kevin and Graduon. As the smoke settled and the sounds of coughing filled the air, the Jerkop covered his face and looked around to see if he could find Asila in the turmoil. He couldn't see a thing through the thick cloud, but he could definitely hear something. Between Cherok and Nilada's yells of confusion, there was another, softer sound – footsteps.

A sphere of blue light expanded through the smoke, pushing it outward to reveal the scene that had just transpired. Asila lay on his back, exhausted, still held down by Cherok's telekinesis. Grinning victoriously, the clanmaster stood over his defeated opponent, aiming the amethyst ring at the Sawabian commander's chest.

"And so it ends, boy," Cherok laughed. "You thought a mere cloud would protect you? Pathetic. I suppose I should not have expected any more from an amateur like you, but then again, your reputation was rather impressive. You killed my Thunderbird and nearly three hundred of my followers...quite the feat for a city of cowering fools. But in the end, that is what you are. Fools."

Unbelievably, Asila began to laugh along with the clanmaster. Kevin wondered if he had gone insane, but something didn't seem quite right about the situation anymore.

"I see you share my view, Sawabian," continued Cherok in a snide chuckle. "I suppose defeat must be hard for you to accept. No matter. Please, laugh while you can. I have plenty of time."

"Actually, you do not," retorted the young commander. "Your queen and your guards are still here, Clanmaster. But where is my honor guard? Where are my lieutenants?"

"What?" Cherok whirled around, frantically searching for Kalona, Leyatsi, and the six Sawabi elites. "How...where did they-"

"You failed, Cherok," snickered Asila, "Perhaps you meant to use the sacred stones against my soldiers once I was dead, or perhaps you would summon their power to take down the walls. But you forget, Clanmaster, that the greatest of them all still resides within Sawabia. It is calling to the seven servers. It wants them back, and I obliged it."

"What nonsense is this?" Nilada cut in furiously. "Speak the truth, or else we will-"

"No, you won't." Asila raised a hand and pointed to Cherok's litter behind them. The Sawabian soldiers surrounded it, each holding up one of the seven Chaos Emeralds. "You already lost."

"CHAOS CONTROL!" shouted Kalona, and blinked out of existence.

"CHAOS CONTROL!" Leyatsi repeated, vanishing into the air.

"CHAOS CONTROL!" the Sawabi guards yelled in unison as each of them disappeared through a small tear in reality. In less than five seconds, only Asila, Cherok, Nilada, and the Cherokian honor guard remained standing on the battleground.

"No." Cherok's mouth dropped open. Blood rushed to his face, changing the gaunt skin to a violent purplish red. "NO. NO! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!"

"The plan was for my soldiers to infiltrate your camp and retrieve the stones while we fought, but you just saved us all of that trouble in the end," added Asila, ripping the Fireshock Pendant off of his neck and casting it aside. "If I had to pick out your biggest flaw, it would be that you were naïve enough to bring the sacred stones to our duel. That, or your insufferable ego."

"I WILL FLAY YOU ALIVE, YOU SAWABIAN BASTARD!" raged Cherok.

"Too late, traitor." Asila allowed his gaze to drift back toward the city. "Too late."

"The plan worked flawlessly," Graduon stated as seven shafts of light rose from the center of Sawabia. Before Cherok could fire off a killing blast from his ring, Asila had disappeared from the field. "Reunited with its seven servers, the Master Emerald was under Sawabi control once more. Asila and the city's elder council had prepared for this moment – a chance to save their clan and deal a devastating blow to their foe's pride. Combining the strength of their sacred stones, the elders asked the spirits within to transport every Sawabian out of the city, to a place where their traitorous kin would never be able to find them. The Chaos Emeralds, having been used together with their master, vanished to the far corners of the earth, out of Cherok's reach."

Kevin looked at the walls of Sawabia, only to see that the defenders had vanished as well. As the light of the Chaos Emeralds faded, Cherok let out a vicious roar and raised his hands toward the city. The seven Chaotic Crystals appeared around him, circling their master as he channeled a massive wave of energy from them. Nilada and the other Cherokians backed away fearfully, not wanting to provoke their superior's wrath any further.

"Cherok, on the other hand..." The ancient spirit glared at his nemesis, still bitter even after so many centuries. "...never was all that good at accepting defeat."

The view changed to several hundred feet in the air above Sawabia. The city lay abandoned, its people safely transported to some unknown location. But as the Chaotic Crystals focused their energy into Cherok's rage, a colossal blast engulfed the gate, the walls, and everything beyond them. The brilliance of the explosion was seared into Kevin's eyes, forcing him to look away to avoid being blinded. Below, he could hear only the sounds of crumbling buildings and roaring fires, as the great city that had stood since the dawn of humanity was rapidly reduced to nothing.

"The Sawabi survived elsewhere, but their legacy was gone," said Graduon. "Cherok went berserk. His power had been severely reduced by the loss of the Chaos Emeralds, and without them, he could no longer shape the world as he had done in the years since his treachery. Only his constructs and machines remained – the medallions, the creation engine, and so on. But even they could not replace what Asila had taken from him. In his madness, the Cherokian clan began to fall apart."

Kevin watched, taking in the events as they played out before him and Graduon. Though Cherok and Nilada tried to claim a victory over the Sawabi upon their return to Cherokia, word spread quickly among the people. Tales from soldiers who had witnessed the events of the siege became common knowledge, even as Cherok continued his attempts to save face and demonize Asila as a psychotic, loathsome rival of the Cherokian clan. Eventually, the people grew weary of so many lies, and as their objections spread, the roots of rebellion took hold. Groups of Cherokians started to leave the city, setting out on their own to seek amnesty within the native tribes of Kayentou. In a desperate ploy to keep control of his city, Cherok declared that attempting to leave would be punishable by death, but this action did little to help. Even the soldiers rebelled, organizing a resistance to evacuate the city. In less than a year, Cherokia had been all but abandoned. Only the clanmaster, Nilada, their three children, and fifty of their most loyal followers remained.

So it was that Cherok's sanity crumbled. His hair turned white, he rarely ventured outside of the temple, and his dreams were plagued by vivid visions of Asila, his father, and Graduon. All the while, the spirit watched in vengeful triumph, savoring his long-time enemy's slide into madness.

Two more years passed, and Cherokia was now joining its predecessor in a state of disrepair. The city was falling to pieces around its remaining occupants, and the once plentiful storehouses had been almost emptied of food. Facing starvation, the Cherokians chose to abandon their city.

Though fiercely resistant at first, Cherok was forced to accept defeat by pressure from all sides. Before departing his city for the last time, though, he called together his followers in the great temple where the fall of the two cities had begun so long ago. Drawing upon the Chaotic Crystals for one final act of preservation, Cherok led his people into a secret room, beneath the altar. Three stone columns protruded from the floor, in front of a wall filled with strange hieroglyphs. The clanmaster himself had carved these symbols in his fits of madness, and explained that they were a vision he had seen in his dreams many times since Sawabia's fall. Cherok placed the Fireshock Pendant and his wife's gauntlets on two of the columns, reserving the central one for Cherokia's savior to use in the distant future. The Anchuent Prophecy was taking shape.

As told by the master of the Cherokian Clan, the reincarnation of our leader shall one day call upon the power of the sacred stones to forge a new race of powerful beings, a race worthy of ushering in the second rise of Cherokia. A child of the old bloodlines shall place his ancestral medallion on the pedestal, and the strength and wisdom of the old clan shall be his, as well as those of two others – the Lady and the Rival. Their souls shall be bound to that of the animal spirit within their totems – the medallion, the pendant, and the gauntlets. With the balance of power restored, the Hero must finish the battle that began at the gates of Sawabia. And upon the day this prophecy comes to be, a great evil shall strike the land, one that the Hero must defeat.

"So, he wasn't completely wrong," muttered Kevin. "Chandler and Sonichu found the altar."

"Yes, they did," Graduon said bluntly. "Upon entering the sealed chamber, Sonichu's essence was entwined with that of the artifacts, allowing the wielders to become Electric Hedgehog Pokémon. The one in Chandler's possession was an unbound medallion, unearthed during his father's expansion of CWCville. In his infinite wisdom, he chose to reshape it to his vision by covering it in...Model Magic clay."

"But it still worked. He used it to transform into Chris-Chan Sonichu."

"And his childhood friend Sarah Hammer became the Lady of the prophecy, though she had no Cherokian blood to speak of. She was visited by the spirit of Nilada, just as Chandler was visited by the spirit of Cherok. Her boyfriend at the time, Wes Iseli, was one of the few men of Sawabian descent to retain the powers of the old world. He became the Rival, and received a warning from the old clanmaster, Cherok's father. It was this that brought about my release from the tomb."

"If Wes is Sawabi, then how come Chandler thinks that Naitsirhc is his rival now?" asked Kevin. "And didn't Sarah Hammer give up her power and leave? If she wasn't the Lady, then who is?"

"Hero, Lady, Rival." The spirit smiled knowingly. "Three souls, bound together by fate. It does not matter which is which...what matters is how they choose to fulfill or defy the prophecy."

Kevin frowned. "That...makes no fucking sense."

"I have been trying to escape this hell for nearly ten thousand years," murmured Graduon. "Humanity has given me nothing but sorrow and regret. I watched your species fall into self-destruction throughout the centuries. War, terror, slavery, oppression...you destroy all that you touch and cast your blame on those who hold different beliefs and ideals. Instead of unity, you seek divergence. Instead of cooperation, you selfishly cling to your ways and denounce those that are different and unfamiliar. Those who would happily destroy your civilization have been granted the most power to influence those who cannot fathom their selfish interests. And even when their treachery is displayed to those around them, you remain too frightened and cowardly to act against them. Cherok's betrayal was only the first step. Without me, your race is doomed."

"No." The Jerkop shook his head, and Graduon's memory stopped. To his surprise, a fragmented series of images appeared in its place. "You spent ten thousand years watching the world go by, and all you saw was the worst of humanity. You never stopped to think that maybe we never needed your help at all. Maybe we deserve to learn and evolve on our own!"

"Your species has fallen into ruin," growled the spirit. "Chandler's tyranny is only the newest form of this growing madness. You wage wars over ideologies and resources instead of uniting towards a single cause. You bicker and argue over trivial matters, ignore those which determine the fates of others, and shield yourselves from the world around you. Humans don't care, pawn."

"You're holding the entire human race accountable for the actions of liars and murderers," Kevin snapped. "Do you think that all of the Sawabi wanted you to be sealed? Do you think that all of the Cherokians were blindly following Cherok's orders? You only see the worst of humanity, because you never thought to look at the ones who were actually doing good all this time!" He stepped towards Graduon, summoning an image of Asila. "What about him, huh? Asila was one of the Sawabi, and you respected him! He fought Cherok to save his clan, not because of some self-serving agenda! Look at what happened! The Cherokians abandoned their leader because they saw through his lies! And you've been condemning them all this time! Yeah, we can be selfish and stupid and arrogant and blind, but look at everything else that we've done!"

"A few good actions cannot justify ten millennia of unending destruction and death," Graduon retorted. "Only when I held dominion over the world of man did your species ever know peace! Now the descendant of Cherok seeks to conquer it once more, and with you as my vessel, I shall wipe this corruption from the face of the earth."

"Peace doesn't come from controlling people," said the Jerkop. "It comes from understanding them." He reached out toward the immaterial form. "I thought you were evil, Graduon. I thought you were my enemy. But you showed me what happened to you. You showed me how you only wanted to help us, and how you were betrayed. I didn't know why you were so angry at the world, but I do now. I don't want to be your enemy, Graduon. I want to help you understand."

"Lies." The spirit withdrew. "More lies. Why should I trust you? You will only betray me like the others. Like Cherok. Like the clanmaster. Like Slaweel."

"What the hell could I gain from betraying you?" Kevin yelled. "Chandler took everything from me! EVERYTHING! I lost all of my best friends and my girlfriend because of that egotistical bastard! Everything that I ever fought for or loved or cared about in CWCville won't mean a damn thing if he wins! Do you think for one second that I would ever give up a chance to make things right by betraying you? I DON'T HAVE ANYTHING LEFT TO LOSE, GRADUON!"

Graduon did not reply. It hovered silently, listening to the Jerkop's words.

"I don't have anything," repeated Kevin, collapsing to his knees. His voice had grown hoarse and drained, as if he was at the very end of his strength. "Chandler took it all away, and I just want to make him pay for what he did to me. For what he did to everyone. That's why I joined the PVCC. I wanted to be part of something big, something that could change the world for the better."

"Do you remember the day of my return?" The ancient spirit drifted forward a few feet. "You were there, when Slaweel and I faced the chosen three. I sensed something in you. Anger. Resentment. Hatred. But something beyond that. You had already endured Chandler's reign for years, suffered many injustices at his hands. But you were unbroken. You would not give in, even faced with such insurmountable opposition. And beyond that, I felt another force within you, something greater than you could understand at the time."

"What do you mean?"

"You have been part of this plan since I first encountered you five years ago," explained Graduon. "How long have you wondered why you could hear my voice, when none of your friends could? I needed a vessel…a vessel to channel not only my own power, but the powers of the world beyond this one. But everywhere I turned, I was met with setback after setback. Descendants of the old clans are hard to come by these days…too much interbreeding and corruption of the gene pool tends to weaken whatever latent powers they might have retained. Iseli was too strong to possess…the benefits of his heritage, I suppose. That Hammer girl departed before I could even try to reach her, and Chandler was a lost cause. Naïve, but also stubborn, just like Cherok. Slaweel seemed like my only chance, and it was through her that the first step was taken."

A sunken temple emerged, the same temple in which Graduon had been imprisoned. Mary Lee Walsh lay crumpled on the shrine in the center, grasping the purple crystal staff in one hand. She was pleading desperately, begging Graduon to grant her the power to overthrow the tyrant of CWCville – a former student of hers who had crippled her and left her to die. As violet energy washed over her battered body, her wounds began to heal and her strength seemed to return. She rose to her feet, her eyes glowing crimson, and shakily began to laugh. The laughter grew and grew, mingling with the dry rattle of the spirit's triumphant chuckles.

"Once Slaweel had given herself to my service, I made preparations for a Passage into her." Graduon sighed. "Unfortunately, despite my offerings of power and knowledge, I was unable to convince her to let me conduct it. Without a form, I can only possess those with the blood of the ancients, weak willpower, or else, vessels who are willing to let me take control. Slaweel agreed to give me a child, a successor who would be the gateway to my final rebirth."

"Marty," breathed Kevin. "That explains why Mary shattered your scepter! She was protecting him from you!"

"Indeed," said Graduon. "As you have seen, there were complications. In such a weakened state, I could neither enter the mind of Slaweel's son, nor could I fully control yours. Using Chandler's pathetic 'un-brainwashing' as my conduit, I escaped my crystal when the scepter was shattered, then latched on to him until he sent out his psychic broadcast to the city. From there, it was only a matter of time before I found you, and concealed myself within your subconscious. There I lay, undetected and weak, feeding on your fear, your anger, your hatred, your desire for retribution against those who had taken so much from you. You were my perfect vessel, and now I shall give you your vengeance. We shall return to CWCville not as a pawn and a puppeteer, but as a single form, possessed by two minds. I shall train you to wield the power of your forefathers, and together we will finally settle the conflict that Cherok began ten thousand years ago. With my help, you shall turn the prophecy against him, and destroy his vile legacy once and for all."

"What?" Kevin backed away, his eyes widening rapidly. "WHAT?"

"Your blood is their blood, Kevin Shaw." Graduon smiled, savoring the Jerkop's look of recognition. "The blood of the old world. The blood of Asila. The blood of the Sawabi."

South CWCville, Slum District, Slumberland, command and control room

"Disobeying multiple direct orders from, literally, the supreme commander of the entire PVCC," Jack Thaddeus stated, examining the pair of Jerkops and the small collection of hobos and mercenary soldiers that had gathered in Slumberland's command center. "Abandoning our primary HQ in the middle of a security crisis, abducting a valuable civilian witness..."

"Abducting?" Dexter Booth spoke up confusedly. "I volunteered to come with them, sir."

"...misusing PVCC resources – that is, Dr. Robotnik – to aid your escape, and..." The Miscreant leaned down and tapped a few keys on the nearest computer, "...entering a contested operations zone, placing multiple civilian and Jerkop lives at risk in the process." He glanced back to Nate Shaw and Nick Martinez. "Those are the current charges against you. Any questions?"

"Yeah," Nate replied dryly. It was clear that his remaining patience was hanging by a thread. "Are we seriously gonna do this right in the middle of the revolution, sir?"

"What? No," chuckled Jack. "Reclaiming the city takes top priority. What, did you think we were going to lock you up and put you on trial for what you did?"

"With all due respect to Commander Gee, if we'd stayed at Wilderness, they wouldn't have let us leave," Nick said. "We've been fighting too many years for that to happen."

"Agreed. I can't really hold your little stunt against you after what Clyde and I just pulled." The commander shrugged and pointed to the group of mercenaries. "Collins?"

"Aye," answered Sean Collins as he stepped to the front of the group of Fighting Irish. "Glad ta be 'ere, sir. What can we do fer ya?"

"Here." Jack scribbled a few quick lines on a sheet of paper and passed it to the Irishman. "Show this to the armory supervisors – they'll get your squad resupplied. Grab one of the trucks from the garage and head north to the Downtown District. You'll be helping the DevilBears and a few squads from ChinaTown. I also wrote down the radio channel you should use – we'll get an operator set up here to give you new orders as necessary."

"Much appreciated, sir," said Sean. He saluted casually, then waved to his comrades as he headed for the door. "On me, boyos! Michael, get those radios set up!"

"As for you," continued the Miscreant, redirecting his attention toward the three former Soup Hotel tenants, "I'd be lying if I said I knew who the hell any of you are, or what you're doing."

"The feeling's mutual, kid," said George. "Haven't had a straight answer since we got to that Wilderness place, and from what Nate's told us, we're not the only ones being left in the dark." He straightened up and placed a hand on his wife's shoulder. "Name's George. This is Missy June, and that's Carl. We're old friends of Kevin Shaw – he's the reason we're here to fight."

"And the surprises just keep on coming," Jack muttered, placing a hand over his eyes. "Arceus. Okay, I'm gonna assume that Lynn already told you about what's going on with Clyde and the Honey Badgers. Here's the thing – we've got confirmation that they successfully launched CWCSPACE One into low Earth orbit about half an hour ago. For some reason, after the rocket went up, all radio contact with the squad was..."

"...lost," Nate finished, his voice trembling with anger. "Not again! DAMN IT!"

"Hold on, Shaw!" The PVCC commander stepped forward, holding out his hands in an attempt to calm the furious Jerkop. "Their last reported location was the Lovely Weather Hotel. Giovanni dispatched a chopper, but Angelica brought it down before the squad could get on board. UAV footage doesn't show any bodies on the roof. Walsh could have teleported."

"But you don't know that, do you, sir?" snapped Nate. "How the hell did Angelica find them?"

"A rocket launch right in the middle of the city was kind of hard to miss," answered Jack. "As for us, well, we can't really do anything but wait right now. They'll head for the nearest HQ. That's either us, or ChinaTown." He gave the two Jerkops a sympathetic glance. "I'm sorry, Shaw, but I can't give you information that we don't have."

"He's right, Nate." Nick placed a reassuring hand on his squadmate's shoulder. "Don't worry. At least we made it home. We'll be able to do more here than if we stayed at Wilderness."

"Yeah, about that." The Miscreant pointed to Dexter. "You. Booth. I got a direct order from Commander Gee that you're going to have to remain at Slumberland until we get the situation under control. It's too risky to move you back to Wilderness at the moment, so we're going to..."

CRACK! With the sound of a thunderclap, a bright purple sphere expanded in the middle of the command center. Nate, Nick, Jack, and the rest of the room's occupants shielded their eyes from the flash, but it was over in less than a second. The cloud of energy vanished, revealing the group of people and the single honey badger who had just teleported into Slumberland.

"Ugh..." Serge groaned, leaning on Al's shoulder for support. The Russian Jerkop's face had gone sickly pale, and his eyes were squeezed shut tightly. "No more. Please tell Serge we are home."

"Yeah, we're here, Mr. Khitrovo." Clyde Cash emerged from the cluster of Jerkops and dusted off his jacket. "Right in the command center, too. Nice job, Mary."

"Knew it by heart," said Mary Lee Walsh shakily. Multiple short-range teleports had sapped most of her strength, but the supreme commander still carried herself with the same air of dignity and authority that had inspired so many operatives and civilians for a full ten years of resistance. She wore the Rosechu medallion that had formerly belonged to Crystal Chandler, along with her battle trident and the folded jetboard. Like Clyde and the Honey Badgers, Walsh seemed to have just walked out of an intense firefight, and now bore an assortment of cuts, burns, and bruises.

"Holy fuck," chuckled Nick in disbelief. "You made it! You lucky, lucky bastards!"

"NICK! NATE!" Jexis, Steve, and Kuri lunged and embraced their two squadmates in a group hug, overjoyed by the sudden reunion. Behind them, Al helped Serge into a nearby chair and passed him a half-empty flask. Despite his preference for vodka, the Jerkop downed nearly all of the Jack Daniel's in a single massive swig, then slumped back into his seat.

"Good to see you again, Clyde." Jack stepped forward and shook the Miscreant's hand warmly, then clapped him on the back. "Anyone hurt? What happened out there? Why didn't you-"

"Teleported straight down into the sewers," Mary explained before Clyde could answer. "No radio reception underground, so we had to make our way south through the tunnels." She took a deep breath, fixing both of her colleagues with an urgent look. "We need to lock down the entire base, right now. The EHPF are going to be knocking at our door any second now, and-"

"Hold on. What?"

"Tracking beacon." Clyde turned and pointed to a bandaged, bloody incision just above Walsh's left shoulder blade. "Chandler must've had it implanted while she was at the Penitentiary. We took it out of her about a mile back, but even the chus aren't dumb enough not to realize we were heading for Slumberland. The EHPF had its location ever since Schwartz sent out that message – they just didn't have the organization or motivation to launch an attack. But now..."

"Now our perimeter defenses are down," breathed Jack. "Arceus, they're gonna destroy the base." He reached for his radio and clicked it. "Giovanni? Mr. da Silva, you there? Over."

"Speaking. Is that you, Jack? I can barely hear-"

"Full lockdown order!" barked Walsh, snapping into her commander persona in an instant. "Mobilize all operatives on standby and activate any Transformers we've still got in the garage! Clyde, Jack, get the other Miscreants onto a group call. We're not losing Slumberland, you understand me? We can't afford another Menchi-Nasu!" She gazed around, searching for a familiar head of messy blond hair. "Somebody find Marty! Get him down here!"

"All personnel, emergency alert." The PA system echoed through Slumberland as Jack slid into his control terminal and punched a large red button labeled EMERGENCY LOCKDOWN. "Any PVCC administration staff not on assignment, report immediately to the command and control room. This is a mandatory order, I say again, a mandatory order."

"You're gonna have to wait for that downtime, Ledger," Clyde remarked as he placed the now-empty Vejovis on a nearby desk. "Get your operatives resupplied and head to the north perimeter defense. You'll be teamed up with Lynn and the rest of her squad. Now get moving!"

"I...yes, sir." Al saluted, then looked to Dexter and the three hobos. "What about the civilians?"

"Booth stays with us," ordered the Miscreant. "Can't risk him in combat. If the civvies want to help, get them armed and bring them along. We'll need every operative we can spare, and-"

"Where the hell is Kevin?"

Al turned, uneasily. Nate had extricated himself from the group of Honey Badgers, and was now fixing the Legend with an accusing glare.

"My brother." The Jerkop stepped forward, trembling with rage. His voice had lowered to almost a whisper. "He and Allie were on that mission with you. Where are they, Al?Where...is...Kevin?"

"Oh no..." Jexis gasped. "Oh no. Nate, we couldn't...they just..."

"Where are they?" repeated Nate, advancing on Al as his hand inched closer to the pistol at his side. "You know what happened to them, Al. Tell me what happened to my brother. TELL ME!"

"Perimeter alert, multiple enemy contacts, north approach," announced the automated recording over the command center's PA. "Defense systems unable to engage targets at this time. Please refer to your Robotnik Technologies troubleshooting manual or contact customer support at..."

The massive screens of the Slumberland control room flickered, then switched from the UAV map of CWCville to a shot of the city outside. The wail of police sirens sounded through the speakers throughout the room, emanating from the nearly three dozen EHPF cruisers that now stood parked in the street just beyond the outer perimeter. Packs of uniformed Electric Hedgehog Pokémon spilled out from the cars, many of them wearing bulletproof vests and other body armor. Such a level of coordination and preparation had been thought nearly impossible for the EHPF to achieve, and only with the assistance of Magi-Chan Sonichu had the attack on Menchi-Nasu been successful. Without someone to think for them and tell them battle strategies as they fought, the EHPF were all but useless in group missions. Something was commanding them.

"Zoom in," ordered Clyde. His face and knuckles had both gone white with apprehension. "Look for a blue Sonichu. If Magi-Chan's busy fighting Aki, then Chandler's got to be leading them..."

"No." Mary pointed to the screen as the camera focused in on the chu army. "It's not Chandler."

"I know you can hear me, you Jerkop bastards," Sonichu snarled vengefully as the cheering crowd of EHPF officers parted to let their new commander through. He was dragging something that resembled a corpse, but it was hard for the PVCC personnel to see it. "And I want to tell you that you were right. Christian would never admit it to me, but you were telling the truth. My wife is dead. My son and daughters are dead. You murdered them all, and destroyed my family." He smiled. "But I want to thank you, PVCC. You showed me the true face of my 'father'. At my time of greatest suffering, he abandoned me to my misery. And in the darkness, I found purpose."

Reaching for the limp bundle on the ground beside him, the Electric Hedgehog Pokémon heaved it upright, giving the Honey Badgers and all of the PVCC personnel a look at the horrifying spectacle. Allie Parker slumped unconscious in his grasp, her skin pale, her face bloody, and her left arm broken. Sonichu held her up for a few more seconds, then dumped the injured Jerkop onto the street. Two EHPF officers promptly picked up her body and stuffed it into a cruiser, then took off toward the west, on a one-way trip to the Shopping Center.

"Kevin Shaw, Hero of the Revolution," Sonichu laughed mockingly as dozens of EHPF troop transports arrived on the scene and parked around Slumberland's perimeter. "Do you know where he is? I found him. I took his heartsweet. I hurled him into the sea like the pathetic piece of trash he is. Killing him would have been a mercy after what he did to my wife and children."

"No..." sobbed Nate, trembling with fury and sorrow. "Oh God, no..."

"If your hero survives," continued the Electric Hedgehog Pokémon, "he will return to a city in flames. He will find his home destroyed, his friends slaughtered, his girlfriend transformed into the true love of Christian Chandler's life." His fused eye narrowed. "And only then will he know the horror, the pain, the rage, and the sadness that I felt when I found my family tortured and butchered inside our own home. Only then...will he know the true extent of my vengeance."

"Targets closing in on the north gate!" Sam Lynn shouted over the radio. "Too many! We need immediate backup, Command! Arceus! Shockers! They've got Shockers! TONY, GET DOWN!"

"I will turn this city into Kevin Shaw's personal hell," finished Sonichu as Angelica Rosechu dropped from above and landed on the street, her face still blackened from the helicopter fire. Punchy Sonichu stepped out from behind an EHPF transport to join them, flexing his spiked gloves and humming a nonsensical fighting tune to himself. "And when I'm done, the Private Villa of Corrupted Citizens will be nothing more than a memory for the ones that survive."

Location unknown

"How?" Still trembling at the spirit's last revelation, Kevin sank to the floor of the dreamscape and stared off into the distant void. "How am I..."

"The Sawabi fled to the most distant corner of the earth to escape Cherokia's wrath," stated Count Graduon as it seated itself beside the Jerkop. "I believe the Chaos Emeralds sent them to somewhere in central Asia...the Gobi Desert, most likely. They became a nomadic people, living like the humans around them and adapting to their new home and its harsh environment. In time, outsiders became part of the clan, and the Sawabi bred with people from civilizations around them. Through the centuries, the bloodlines of my chosen people were diluted...all but the direct descendants of Asila. You are one of them, as are Iseli and Slaweel."

"Why do you call her Slaweel?" Kevin asked. "I've never heard you call her anything else."

"I think the closest word in your language is 'liberator'." The ancient spirit seemed to think for a few moments. "Not that I considered myself free by any definition. But as much as I despised her exploiting my power for her own agenda, I had to honor her with the title."

"Exploiting you? How? Didn't you want to take revenge on Chris for what Cherok did to you?"

"I did, yes. Slaweel placed her organization first and foremost, though. For years, she traveled in secret between the cave and her Miscreant council, building the foundations of the PVCC and the first hints of a citywide resistance movement. Chandler and most of CWCville believed that she had died in the Shopping Center attack. When the tomb was disturbed by Sonichu and the three Cherokian artifacts bonded to him, I knew that the day of my return had come."

"So you attacked the city with that golem," added Kevin. "And nearly killed me. Thanks."

"Be thankful that I could sense your potential," Graduon replied. "And now that you know what you truly are, child of Asila, I believe it is time to know the same of your enemies."

"Okay." The Jerkop nodded. "Let's start from the beginning. I want to know how Sonichu and the Chaotic Combo were created. What was that rainbow, and how did it turn a Pikachu into-"

"No." Graduon shot down the request before Kevin could even finish. "Some things were not meant to be known. In truth, even I do not fully understand it. I believe it had to do with all seven of the Chaos Emeralds being used at that point in time, but in all of the millennia I spent on this world, I have never witnessed anything of the sort happening before."

"Yeah, okay. I get it." Kevin conceded. It was as good an explanation as anything he could have come up with, and even made sense in some regards. During the Station Square attack, Sonic the Hedgehog had used the combined power of the emeralds to ascend into his Super Sonic form and engage Perfect Chaos. The aftereffects could have easily led to anomalies, but if a ten thousand year old earth spirit couldn't explain the creation of Sonichu, then no one could. "So where did all the other Sonichus and Rosechus come from? The ones that arrived on Occupation Day?"

"That, I can answer," said Graduon. "Through projection, I spent my exile observing the world around me and the various doings of humanity. For a time, I alternated between Cherok and Asila, watching the fall of one and the rise of the other. Cherok was the first to die – an obese, pathetic wreck of a man, killed by the failing of his own heart. Nilada and her children carried on his legacy, and the clan eventually integrated with the surrounding Native American tribes. As for Asila and the children of Sawabia, their race became mixed together with ancestors of the Mongols, the Chinese, the Russians, the Koreans, and the Japanese. This would-"

"Yeah," interrupted Kevin. "I don't know if you've noticed, but I'm not exactly Asian."

"Neither are Slaweel or Iseli," Graduon countered. "As I told you, the bloodline passed through generations of Sawabi, as well as those they bred with. Only a few realize their heritage to this day, and none know the truth of how their entire civilization disappeared in the blink of an eye."

The dreamscape shifted around them and became a snow-covered hill overlooking a sizable suburban town. The houses and buildings below were strung with Christmas lights, and the streets had filled with a cheering, excited crowd. Fireworks burst in the night sky, while the bombastic music of a marching band echoed across the town. The image were like something out of a Christmas movie from years gone by – a nostalgic snapshot of Americana.

"The date is December 1, 1968," said Graduon. "The town below is Ruckersville, Kanto. Today marks the day that a local politician takes office as the mayor after a long and exhausting campaign. For six years, he and his political allies have been fighting for a position in the House of Representatives, but after failing to gain ground on the state and national levels, they turned their attention to Ruckersville itself."

Kevin and Graduon hurried down the hill and into the town, passing a collection of small houses and cars from the '50s and '60s on their way to Main Street. At last, they emerged, invisible, into a roaring crowd. The parade was in full swing, and at the center, Kevin could see a man in his early 40s standing atop a float next to his wife, smiling and waving to the bystander. A banner hung across the street, proclaiming CONGRATULATIONS, MAYOR CHANDLER!

Normally, such an achievement would pass without such celebration," remarked the spirit. "But Robert's election marked the start of something that had never been considered before – a social and political experiment known as the Ruckersville Secession."

"I know a little about that," said Kevin. "Didn't the government want to see what would happen if a city or a state actually seceded from the US?"

"Yes," confirmed Graduon. "The plan was to let a single American town become an independent city-state, unattached to the United States, but still under their protection. I suppose it was meant as an act of patriotism, to prove that the nation was strongest when it was undivided. Instead, Robert and his Lumberjack political party brought their city into an age of prosperity, helped in part by tourism and contributions from the experiment's supporters. By 1970, a citywide expansion was under way, with the goal of turning Ruckersville into an industrial haven."

Ruckersville reappeared, with Kevin standing on the same hill beside the spirit. He could make out several immediate differences from 1968, most notably the massive construction zones that had been cordoned off just beyond the city limits to the east. Cranes, dump trucks, and backhoes toiled away, carving out and leveling new ground to build upon. Already, Kevin could see the line between the subdivisions and the urban section of Ruckersville taking shape. It was truly impressive that Bob and the Lumberjacks had organized a development plan of this scale, but also that he had managed it without any official help from the American government.

Before Kevin could ask why Graduon had brought him there, the spirit had teleported them both to the flattened wasteland of Ruckersville's eastern construction zone. A team of workers had hit something with their excavator, and were now uncovering it with shovels and jackhammers. The Jerkop stepped closer to the edge of the pit and looked down, only to be greeted by the sight of carved ancient stonework. There was no doubt about it – he'd seen enough of the great temple in Cherokia to know what the construction team had just struck.

Time sped forward as the excavation continued, and as more people took notice, the pit became an archaeological dig site. Professors and students from PKCC and the newly-built Ruckersville University arrived daily to help uncover the relics of Cherokia. But behind the scenes, Mayor Chandler had taken a particular shine to the technological aspects of the find.

"It was not the first time that Robert had encountered such items," Graduon explained. "Having served in the Signal Corps during World War II, in 1950 he was placed in a special team of engineers and scientists commissioned by the U.S. Army. He and the other members of the team were assigned to conduct research on a strange series of artifacts unearthed along the Kanto interstate highway near Charlottesville. Fascinated by his newfound knowledge of Cherokian history, the Mayor was eager to study this new trove of relics. Most were useless, damaged beyond repair, or worn away by time and the elements. But one machine remained intact."

The sound of a rumbling generator filled the air. Kevin and Graduon were now in the middle of a large laboratory-like room. A group of men and women in lab coats had gathered together, and were conversing with Bob Chandler and three men in suits. Behind them towered a monument of stone and steel, its surface covered in welds and bundles of wire. Though a ten thousand year burial had swept away the engraved Cherokian symbols, Kevin could still identify the device from his memories of the distant past. Somehow, Bob and his research team had assembled the ancient machine, and seemed intent on reactivating it using modern technology.

As the researchers dispersed to their stations, Bob stepped up to the creation engine and climbed a short ladder to what had to be the machine's control panel. Taking a seat, he placed his hand on a crystalline sphere and closed his eyes. The central tank glowed, and a mechanical hum emanated from within. A man in a hazmat suit ascended a flight of metal stairs leading to the tank's opening, carefully placed a package of ground beef into the glowing liquid, then retreated to safety. Bob's face flushed with concentration as the humming grew louder and louder, until a sudden surge of white light flashed from within the tank. Kevin hurried over to get a closer view. To his astonishment, the ground beef had been transformed into a slab of steak. The room erupted in cheers as Bob descended the ladder, smiling in triumph.

"The Mayor had no idea that this device could give life to organic matter," said Graduon. "A week later, the project was abandoned due to an incident involving the creation engine, a young scientist named Bill Schwartz, and a large bag of marijuana. I believe the end result was a Grass-type Pokémon called the Plautistic. Not wanting to 'play God' with this newfound power, Robert ordered the project to be shelved. The laboratory was converted into a storage facility to house the machine. In order to keep his failed project hidden from the public, a large mall was constructed on top of the facility. All those months working for the CWCville Shopping Center, and you could never have guessed that you were standing on top of the city's best-kept secret."

The years continued to pass. Ruckersville's expansion was deemed an overwhelming success by Mayor Chandler, and what had once been thought of as a political gimmick now stood strong as an independent nation. For the first time since seceding, the city-state was bringing in more annual money than its government was spending. With an increase in tourism and commerce, Ruckersville's meteoric rise settled off at a healthy peak. However, the strain of overseeing such a massive expansion had taken its toll on Bob, and he and Patricia were soon divorced. Their two grown children, David and Carol, followed their mother's example and emigrated back to the United States. Years later, Bob became involved with a woman named Barbara Weston, who he met one night at a karaoke bar. The two of them took to each other quite well, despite their initial attraction having been heavily fueled by alcohol. In 1980, Bob and Barb were married, and two years later, their first child was born. Overcome with pride, Bob renamed the city to honor his son, Christopher Weston Chandler. At last, Ruckersville had officially become CWCville.

Having been diagnosed with autism at an early age, Chris's life was plagued by numerous social, emotional, and communication disabilities. His first and only friend during childhood was Sarah Hammer, a girl who lived next door and often came over to play with him. Though she played several pranks on the ever-gullible Chris, the two remained good friends well into high school.

Christopher had his name officially changed to Christian Weston Chandler in 1992, inspired by a mispronounced word from an animatronic talking bear. Shortly after, he entered the Sonic the Hedgehog Watch and Win Sweepstakes and won the grand prize: a $1000 toy shopping spree and a chance to meet Sonic the Hedgehog. While he was only a teenager at the time, the heroic hedgehog's exploits were already known throughout the world. For Chris, the opportunity to meet and speak with his greatest childhood icon proved to be the turning point in his young life. He spent much of his free time drawing a whole assortment of new characters to accompany the blue hedgehog on his adventures. The most prominent of these was the orange-furred, basketball-playing Bionic the Hedgehog, who Chris declared to be Sonic's brother.

Suddenly, the progression of memories stabilized into one scene – a darkened storage facility, lit by only a dim flashlight. Christian, now fourteen years old and carrying a McDonald's Happy Meal in one arm, wandered through the room, passing the many crates and boxes that had piled up over the years. Most of them contained the beginnings of his mother's infamous hoard – junk that she would never let go of for some reason. At the center of the storeroom, the abandoned Cherokian creation engine had been covered by a heavy tarp. Intrigued, the young Mayor-to-be approached the machine and tugged at its cover. Though it was a somewhat difficult task to extricate the device, Chris eventually managed to pull the tarp off and watched as the ancient machine emerged. It had slept for close to two decades, but a reawakening was at hand.

Chris climbed the stairway to the tank, most likely wondering if the machine was some kind of elaborate aquarium. At the top, he stepped up to the edge and leaned over, but clumsily slipped. Though he managed to stop himself from falling into the tank, the bag dropped right into the transmutative fluid, releasing its soggy contents. Mortified by the loss of his snack, he trudged down the stairs and over to the machine's control panel. He noticed the large ON button, and pushed it without a second thought. Immediately, the creation engine hummed into life, its tank glowing with the familiar blue-green light. Chris delightedly began messing around with the various buttons and switches that his father had installed during the testing process. It was only when the teenager touched the crystal input sphere that he received any notable results.

From within the liquid, a few dots of light appeared and settled on the scraps of processed meat, bread, condiments, and potatoes. Each of the items disintegrated immediately, forming separate clouds of various organic components. As Chris looked from the control panel to the activity in the tank, the clouds converged, forming a ball of suspended matter. The blob stretched out and widened to form a head, then sprouted noodle-like arms, legs, and a stubby tail. It looked like a fetus of some kind. Orange fur and spines grew rapidly, covering the little creature from head to toe. With another flash, the process ended, and the animal drifted limply in its creation tank.

"Son of a bitch," Kevin cursed. "That's how he made them. All of them! Oh my fucking God."

"The creation engine can only use whatever components are available, so a fully grown Sonic recolor was essentially impossible with a single Happy Meal," said Graduon. "But Chandler's imagination now had an outlet beyond anything that markers could give him. For the next two years, he visited the storage room, bringing fast food from the mall to fuel the machine."

Overjoyed by his new miniature version of Bionic the Hedgehog, Chris took care of it like a pet, feeding it and even building it a little Lego house to live in. When it became clear that the animal would not grow on its own to the size that he wanted, he simply returned it to the tank and tossed in a fresh bag of McDonald's. Bionic grew larger, stronger, and more sentient with each session. Soon, he had gained rudimentary intelligence and a personality almost identical to that of his creator.

As his interest in the creation engine continued to climb, Chris's social skills degraded through his school career. Bob, wanting his son to follow in his footsteps as an engineer, enrolled Chris in a college-level Computer Aided Drafting and Design course at the newly-renamed PVCC. Away from his circle of "gal-pals" at Manchester High, Chris decided to pursue something he had never considered before – a female soul mate...or "Sweetheart from the Ground-Up", as he called it. Rejected again and again by young women who found his demeanor awkward and his methods creepy, he started using a so-called Attraction Sign to draw in potential boyfriend-free girls. The dean of admissions, Mary Lee Walsh, quickly put a stop to such activity, and after a loud and confusing confrontation with the disturbed young man, had him expelled from PVCC in February 1998, though he was granted an honorary CADD certificate at his father's request.

In the time between Chris's expulsion and the arrival of Sonichu in June 1998, Bob Chandler officially stepped down as mayor and passed the title down to his son. Until Chris became a legal adult, though, the actual responsibility of running CWCville would be given to Bob's associates in the Lumberjack Party and the city board of directors. Chris was pleased with the decision at first, but soon grew dissatisfied that the council repeatedly ignored his naïve suggestions for how to improve the city. He started attending city meetings uninvited, making public statements, and basically doing everything in his power to convince the people of CWCville that he was the Mayor, and that he was in charge. Meanwhile, most of his time that wasn't spent playing video games in his room was spent beneath the Shopping Center, letting his imagination run free.

The Battle of Station Square came and went, but Sonichu and Rosechu had not yet left the safety and privacy of Kel's cabin. Chris, who had still not lost his fanatical worship of Sonic the Hedgehog, devoted much of his decreasing energy to studying the strange events surrounding the Perfect Chaos attack. The second hedgehog participant soon became a small side hobby of his, which in turn grew into a full-fledged obsession. Beyond the usual drawings, Chris went so far as to craft a medallion of the creature's head out of Crayola Model Magic. By August, he had even publicly proclaimed himself the unknown hero's creator. Kevin wondered if the young Mayor had simply gone mad with his insane fixation on Sonichu, or if it was some strange side effect caused by a lifetime of social isolation, loneliness, and failed relationships.

The memories grew more familiar to Kevin as July turned to August. Naitsirhc da Silva attacked the CWCville Shopping Center with his Zapdos and Raikou, which Graduon showed him were actually a highly-trained pair of Ditto. When Sonichu entered the fray to save Rosechu from the young terrorist, Chris was ecstatic. At last, his quarry had emerged. Taking advantage of the Electric Hedgehog Pokémon's naïveté and relative youth, the Mayor was quick to swoop in and befriend Sonichu. In turn, Sonichu imprinted on the first human male who had ever shown him kindness, regarding Chris as a father figure and eventually accepting him as his "actual" father.

"And it was all downhill from there," growled Kevin, remembering the pain and loneliness he had endured in the years of Chris's tyrannical rise to power. "Occupation Day...it makes sense now. He started cloning more chus because no human in the city would listen to him or take him seriously. Sonichu and Rosechu were the template, so that means the rest of them..."

"Fast food. Every single one," Graduon confirmed, showing him a scene of Chris working in the storage room, surrounded by thousands of bags of McDonald's, KFC, Wendy's, and Burger King. Once he had manufactured the first few Sonichus and Rosechus to his twisted perfection, they were more than willing to assist him with creating more of their kind. Each newly formed chu held the physical characteristics and attitude of their respective namesake, an exaggerated sense of heroism, and a personality somewhere in the middle between the Mayor and his "children". Though not nearly as powerful as the originals, these Electric Hedgehog Pokémon were almost perfect replicas. Chris kept the growing population housed in the sublevels of the CWCville Shopping Center, delivering them vast quantities of fast food to keep them from starving.

Meanwhile, Sonichu and Rosechu lived on the surface, dealing with the aftermath of the August Jerkop Riots and the growing backlash against their beloved Mayor. While the board of directors and the Lumberjack Party fought to keep the city from falling apart at the seams, it appeared that nothing short of martial law would stop the riots and protesting. The year 2000 loomed ahead on the horizon, bringing with it a horrific turning point in the history of CWCville.

"I saw it on TV," Kevin said solemnly, taking over from Graduon as his own memories replaced those of the spirit. "It was New Year's Day. Chandler was making some huge announcement, and everyone thought it was just gonna be more praise for his 'creations'. He started talking about how he wanted to make sure we all got a chance to appreciate the chus and what they did for us. Like they were fucking heroes." His throat felt tight, as if he was being choked. "But he didn't mean the originals. The mall doors opened, and...thousands. All marching and waving and cheering in a giant fucking mass of yellow and pink. Sneakers, dresses, bows...they were all the same. All just the same as Sonichu and Rosechu. There were some wearing police uniforms and Kevlar vests...he told us they were the city's new Electric Hedgehog Police Force."

"He had been planning the takeover for nearly two years," added Graduon. "To wrestle control of the city back into his grasp, Chandler needed an army. So he went ahead and made one."

Now Kevin was seeing the sheer size and devastation of the chu occupation – things he had only glimpsed briefly in the news footage before the cameras cut out. Most of the CWCville citizens had been taken off guard by the sudden arrival of so many Sonichu and Rosechu clones, but there were those who resisted, those who fought back. Spewing a torrent of stuttered hate, the Mayor called upon his army to subdue and arrest his enemies: the staff of PVCC, the principal who had apparently held him down and recorded his screams, the babysitter who had locked him away in a room full of toys, the young radio jockey who had spoken up against him, and every mall cop or security guard who had interfered with his Love Quest. Dozens fell to Thunderbolts and Homing Attacks, and dozens more were lost in the ensuing chaos. When the citizens turned to their Pokémon for protection, Chris declared a zap-on-sight protocol, and the streets were soon littered with the corpses of trainers and Pokémon who had challenged the might of the EHPF.

As the sun set on Occupation Day, the Lumberjacks and the city board of directors were forced into hiding. Facing zero resistance, Chris declared himself the democratically elected Mayor of CWCville. The next few weeks were little more than a victory lap for him and the chus, as any lingering revolutionary movements had either been crushed or had fallen apart. Still not satisfied with his hostile takeover, the Mayor called upon his father's legacy – the Silver Sigil, a private military contractor group that Robert had hired to defend the city in case the police force proved inadequate. Though reluctant at first, most of the mercenaries were quickly persuaded to keep the peace with a healthy salary harvested from the city's surplus of funds. Under their new title of the True Blue, they quickly became infamous for their discipline and sheer brutality.

Many new laws were enacted after Occupation Day. All chus were declared official citizens of CWCville, and each was entitled by law to a comfortable home, freedom from taxes, and a monthly stipend for "defending the city and its CWCitizens". Hatred for the Electric Hedgehog Pokémon quickly spread through CWCville's human population, but anyone who dared to attack a Sonichu or Rosechu for any reason at all was set upon and zapped or imprisoned by the "brave and devoted officers" of the EHPF. To combat the problem of citizens fleeing in droves, Chris closed the border between CWCville and the United States, but still allowed people to enter. Citizens were forbidden from leaving, and escape meant facing the wrath of both the EHPF and the True Blue. It had taken months of work, but CWCville was now well and truly a police state.

"The five chus of the Chaotic Combo arrived in 2002, after encountering Sonichu on one of his adventures," Graduon lamented. "Jamsta, Lolisa, Darkbind, Zelina, and the rest were all clones, created by Chandler to expand his growing circle of servants and 'friends'. A new city board of directors was created, one that was far more loyal to the Mayor. With Magi-Chan's psychic powers, Punchy's strength, Angelica's flight, Wild's maneuverability, and Bubbles's mastery of water all at his command, Chandler could build anything that he wanted for the city. A wall, to keep his people inside. A psychic surveillance system to monitor his citizens for homosexual activity. Warehouses were converted into 'straight camps' to force his bigoted views on those who would or could not submit. When the United States threatened to intervene, Chandler sent Magi-Chan to Washington. I did not see what happened, but after he departed, the U.S. began transferring money to Chandler every month, in return for him keeping his creations within the city limits. The chus were happy enough to live in CWCville, but the people...not so much."

"That's a fucking understatement," muttered Kevin. "So where does Silvana come into this?"

"Ah. I was wondering when you would ask about her." Graduon called up an image of Silvana Rosechu. "Like the Chaotic Combo, she came into this world fully grown. Chandler would have you believe she was sent to the Moon where I trained her, but the reality is much simpler. She and the Combo were never babies, and they certainly could not have been Sonees or Roseys, as you will soon see. Silvana wandered alone in the desert for months, learning to survive through instinct alone. As she grew weaker, her psychic emanations allowed me to locate her. I took her as my protégé and taught her to harness the power of her mind, just as I am now teaching you."

"How so?"

"You have retained a high level of psychic sensitivity, just as Chandler has," said Graduon. "His latent powers manifested at the age of fourteen, when his father gave him Cherok's ring to celebrate his transition into high school. At first, he could barely control the unstable energy, which manifested as the so-called 'Curse-Ye-Ha-Me-Ha' during moments of intense anger. With time came a greater understanding of his ancestry, and the discovery of abilities that let him rise above the rest of humanity. Telekinesis, teleportation, and ESP were only a few of these."

"You're saying that I have these as well?" asked Kevin. "Then how did I never..."

"No, you only have the psychic sense for now," Graduon explained. "I can help you unlock the rest of your potential ability, but until then, I will use you as a conduit for my own powers. Perhaps with enough time and training, you may learn to use them without my assistance."

"We don't have that kind of time." Kevin looked around, suddenly aware of just how long he had spent in Graduon's memories. "I need...I need to get out of here. What else do I need to know?"

"I will show you," the spirit assured him. "There is still one more secret that I witnessed before Slaweel removed my scepter from the tomb. Now you shall know it too."

The laboratory underneath the Shopping Center reappeared, now devoid of trash and storage boxes. Magi-Chan stood in front of the creation engine, peering through the glass at a small fuzzy blob floating in the tank. Chris was seated at the controls, his pudgy face scrunched up in concentration and his striped shirt drenched in sweat.

"Do not waste your energy on a hopeless task, Father," the purple Sonichu said quietly. "I have told you repeatedly – you will destroy all hope of reproduction if you alter them to this extent."

"But dey are NOT tha cute an' cuddly lil' bay-bees like I told dem dey would be!" whined Chris. "Dey keep makin' tha ugly bay-bees! I do not appreciate bein', uh, I do not like when you tell me what ta do, Magi-Chan Sonichu! I am tha Mayor of CWCville, an' I-"

"...will get nowhere with this little project of yours if you do not listen to me now," Magi-Chan warned, as if talking to a child. "You wish to make the lesser chus reproductively compatible with your specific...design, do you not?"

"Dat is tha whole an' honest truth, Magi-Chan." The Mayor folded his arms and smirked. "I want you ta make it so dat all tha Sonichus an' Rosechus can make cute an' cuddly lil' bay-bees!"

"It is not...that...simple," growled the Sonichu, punctuating each word with infinite patience. "Our preliminary tests produced the same form of offspring you saw yesterday. The...ugly ones."

"Yes, dey most certainly are!" agreed Chris smugly.

"As you requested, all but one have been terminated." Magi-Chan frowned. "The AKI Project failed to produce any viable research candidates, with a single exception. This one is different. She has remarkable psychic sensitivity for one so undeveloped. I believe this is the key to-"

"Uggghhh..." Chris sighed loudly. "Well, I for one do not give a gosh-darn about dat ugly purple not-Rosey, thank you very much! I want dem all ta look like tha ones dat I drew for my Animal Crossing cards, an' dose other ugly bay-bees do not look like dem at all! Make dem like dat! An' you can put tha AKI, uh, tha purple one out of its misery, since dat one is obviously SUFFERIN' like succotash in dat NAZI LAB a' yours!"

Magi-Chan seemed about ready to strangle his flabby superior, but maintained his placid stance. "As you wish, Mayor. I will terminate the Rochu first thing in the morning. For now, you would be wise to retire for the night. Any more immediate tests and you may suffer from heart failure."

"Dat is true, since my Heart Level was jus' LOWERED ONCE AGAIN!" ranted Chris as he climbed down from the machine. "I do not, I do not understand tha reasoning why I CONTINUE to be BLATANTLY SHUNNED an' TROLLED by dese boyfriend-free girls!"

"No one does, Father," replied Magi-Chan with the briefest hint of sarcasm. "No one does."

"What...the hell...is a Rochu?" Kevin hissed to Graduon. "What...what's going on?!"

"Did you think that Sonees and Roseys were the natural offspring of Sonichus and Rosechus?" the spirit asked. "The cloned chus were sterile at first, but after several rounds of hormone and fertility treatment, the first test couples produced the first specimens of baby Electric Hedgehog Pokémon, called Sochus and Rochus. Chandler had the offspring destroyed, then began putting the adult chus through intense reconfiguration in the creation engine to produce his ideal 'cute and cuddly babies'. Now there are no Sochus left, and all but one of the Rochu species have been wiped out. Even though she knows she cannot win alone, she still fights to destroy her father...her creator."

"Aki," finished Kevin. "That's why she said all that stuff to me. She sensed you. She knew."

"Correct." Graduon floated in front of the young Jerkop, observing him once again. "You are not very different from her. Even in the face of insurmountable odds, you both seek to save what you hold most dear. Do not forget what that is, Kevin Shaw. Do not forget who you are."

"I won't." Kevin laughed bitterly. "I'm the Rival. I have to face Chandler before this is over."

"The Anchuent Prophecy means no more than what you make of it," said the spirit, "just as the words of Cherok hold no more truth than those of his descendant. Perhaps, in the end, the Hero becomes the Rival and the Rival takes the Hero's place. I may have shown you the beginning of your story, child of Asila, but you are the one who shall decide the way it ends."

Kevin nodded. A surge of immense determination raced through him, filling him with white-hot energy that radiated outward from his body. As long as there was breath in his lungs and blood in his veins, he would continue to fight on. Not for himself, not for his friends, not for the living or for the dead, but for the chance to once again see a CWCville like the one he had lived in before Occupation Day and everything after. A CWCville free of tyranny.

"What happens next?" he asked. "With us, I mean? We're going back to the city, right?"

"All I have shown you is what has come before," Graduon whispered as it and the dreamscape melted away. "What happens next…well, that is for you to decide."

And just like that, Kevin was alone again, standing in a pillar of blazing light as the final echoes of the spirit's voice died away. As if hypnotized, he allowed his eyes to drift shut, welcoming the sense of a final release. In some way, he had known that it would all come down to this. He just hadn't been prepared to face it until now.

We all feel that…when we've reached our final, absolute limit. Beyond that lies the black, and beyond that, the void. And now that you've seen the edge…you can finally begin to overcome it.

In the moment before he began to rise past the threshold of his mind, Kevin smiled. At last, he knew he had traveled beyond the edge. At last, he understood what had to be done.

At last, he was awake.