A/N: As promised, a faster upload... (it could have something to do with all the threats I've been getting...) I wanted to finish this chapter at a different stage in the story, but I was having trouble keeping it together; so this is all you get till I work out where to go next. However, For all the Fax fans out there; hang on what am I saying... to all the people reading my story, I have good news. As of next chapter, Max will officially know who Fang really is, but I'm not giving away any spoilers. So, you'll all just have to tune in to the next update*evil grin*

Thanks to everyone who read last chapter and everyone who reviewed: tearsXsolitude, booksmartblonde333, xXNumbXx, Freedom Requires A Battle Cry, lazerwolf314(thanks, I'm a bit paranoid when it comes to fight scenes), Koure, mimim1010, Phoinex Warrior (one more chapter, do you think you'll survive? :D), MessedUp2012, desperatelyobvious, The Angel of Calamity(soon, very soon :P), NITESIDE -TAYLAH - TYLER (please maam, don't stab me with a rusty spork), fanged archangel and last but not least Mistystarshine. Thankyou all!

Anyway, you know the drill, hope you like chapter 17!

Cheers.


Rats scurry around my feet as I move forward, out into the opening, which reveals that we are just outside the gates of the facility. There is a dirty looking stream which emerges from the sewer and a gravel track precedes it. There is tree cover, blocking the view of the Itex laboratory and the surrounding area is much the same; red Australian dirt and desert in every which direction.

It is just dawn and the sun is slowly about to rise.

As I feel myself stepping out into the dim sunlight, the smell of blood intoxicates my senses. I survey the group standing on the gravel, noting the Gasman on the floor, covered in blood from an undisclosed wound. Crouching beside him on the track, Nudge has a panicked look on her features. Neither acknowledges my appearance.

Standing above them, a completely white Eraser, one unlike anything I have ever seen, holds a gun at his side. He has his back to me, and in the light of the sunrise, I can see that he is no a normal Eraser.

Around them, Max, Omega, Echo, Iggy and Angel are struggling against their captures, all G3 Erasers, but someone was missing…

"Ah, zer prodigal son returns…" the white Eraser declares in a deep French accent. He turns swiftly with his arms wide, and I stare into the icy blue eyes of the beast. A beast I knew well.

Dr. Marcel Pierce was a young genealogist, who worked for Itexicons 'Special Projects' unit. He was the leading scientist at the time of my capture. He was ruthless and he was cruel, and had taken an abnormal disliking for me from first sight.

I have no doubt that it was him who created the first chimera prototype, and him who worked on G3 Erasers.

I also know for sure, that it had been him who Erasified me.

And that's where I am now; quivering with rage in my coat of fur. The wolf is craving its release… and I welcome it with open arms. I allow myself to be overcome by its insatiable hunger. Hunger to cause pain to the man who dealt me so much.

Letting out a low growl, I move in. The white wolf is all I can see; I let everything else slip back into my mind. I know the others won't attack until Marcel orders them to, and right now I am sure he wanted this to between him and I. Almost as much as I do.

See, our history has always been anything but pleasant. We'd had out differences. He'd taken my life… and I'd taken his right arm.

I recognize the flare of deep hatred in his eyes, as he glares into mine. He brings up his arms in some sort of fighting position and I feel my eyes widen. Where the stump of an arm should be, a mechanical looking limb now gleams. As he flexes it fingers and hand, he glances up at me with a triumphant leer.

"Like it? Zee human/kanic project needed a volunteer. In zee name of good science, I happily obliged. It's a change, no? Looks like you've made some yourself," he states flippantly. I growl and my eyes temporarily glaze over with rage. I shake my head and find my voice again.

"Speaking of changes, it looks like you've changed species. How's that working out for you?"

"Well, I was going to ask you zee same thing. If memory serves, it was I who gave you those big, sharp teeth," he sneers, baring his own in a hideous, Eraser half smile.

"All the better to rip your throat out with, Marcel."

Enough small talk.

With a menacing grown, I launch myself at the white wolf.

With a sound half way between a laugh and a growl, he deflects my claws with his arm. I realize that his new arm is stronger than I originally thought, and aim a kick at his side. However, he is quicker and manages to grab a hold of my leg before it makes contact, dropping his gun in the process.

With amazing force, I feel myself being dragged upwards by my foot. I let out a shout and manage to jump up and push off of his chest with my other leg. Following the motion through, I kick him in the face, and manage to land a successful back flip. The power of my push causes him to stumble back, where he trips and falls into the dirty stream.

I turn to face him as he finds his feet, and smirk tauntingly at him.

His eyes flash and he lets out an all-mighty roar. He comes at me and I block his fist, repaying the favour with a punch to the stomach. He lets out a groan and delivers a fist to the side of my face with his kanic arm. The blow is somewhat of a surprise to me, causing me to literally see stars. As I reel to the side with the force of the blow, he takes advantage of my momentary daze.

He storms forward and delivers another strike to my side and then my stomach. I drop to my knees in pain, clutching my stomach. His kanic arm is more powerful than I could ever dream of, and as his blows rained down on me, I quickly felt myself losing the fight.

I watch him swing back for the next blow. In a desperate attempt to save myself, I make an attempt to block the punch, and deliver a good strike to his snout. Blood squirts out all over me and I watch him pull back with a cry of pain. I take the opportunity and struggle to get to my feet.

I know that I am losing this fight and without a weapon he was going to kill me. I look around for something I can use. That's when I notice the gun Marcel had dropped earlier. I glace up at the white wolf, now tarnished by blood. He's noticed my line of sight.

I see his light eyes dart to his fallen gun, as do mine. Suddenly, he started sprinting for the gun. With all the energy I can muster, I leap for it. Falling to the gravel in front of the gun, I crawl forward on my stomach reach for the gun just as I hear him reach me. I'm the first to grab it, but as soon as my fingers touch the metal, I feel my arm being pulled up behind my back by the ever present kanic limb.

Pain tears down my arm and he forces the gun out of my hand, breaking two of my fingers in the process. I let a low groan of pain escape my clenched teeth and felt him shove his knee in my back. I hear the gun being cocked and then feel something cold graze the back of my neck.

"Ohhh, sorry Fang," I hear him whisper in my ears, in triump.

"Looks like your friends are coming wis me. Oh, but you won't be leaving zis sewer. Bon après-midi."

I feel the barrel of the gun press into my neck and I close my eyes gently.

"Enough!" came a loud shout, one that causes everyone to jump and stare at the owner. I open my eyes and find myself staring at a pair of very shiny black dress shoes. I follow them to the legs and then up, letting myself frown in confusion as I stare at the face towering above me.

Standing over Marcel and I, is none other than the Director himself. His stern face glares down at me and I get the strangest sensation as he looks into my eyes. A sense of familiarity fills my mind, but he looks away before I can work out its origins.

"What were my orders, Marcel?" the Director questions calmly, turning his relentless gaze to the white wolf, who still has my arm wrenched up painfully against my back.

"Sir, I… he attacked m-" Marcel tries in a weak attempt to explain.

"Get up," the old man barks at him, and Marcel does so immediately.

I let out a thankful breath and pull my arm down, relieving the tension in my muscles, not wanting to look at my mangled fingers. I sit up slowly and wipe the blood from my nose with my uninjured hand, and momentarily wondering what all these fights were doing to my health.

"You are not to harm them again," he orders, venomously. Marcel just lowers his head, silent.

"Now go check the rest of the sewers," the Director commands, turning away from the white wolf. Marcel salutes and takes off into the sewer, and I feel a brief moment of panic, wondering if Amity and Kith a hidden enough.

I glance up at the old man, sizing him up. I could take him even with my broken fingers, but how long would it be before these trigger-happy, numbskulls put a bullet between my eyes. As if reading my thoughts, the Director turns to me and smiles.

"I wouldn't," he says in amusement. I raise an eyebrow and open my mouth to ask way not, when something catches my eyes. It's barely noticeable, but there was no doubt in my mind.

Pink roots.

"Now!" the old man shouts, and the Erasers holding Max, Iggy and Omega are thrown to the ground. Before the others guards can react, Max has Angel's Eraser unconscious on the floor and Iggy has Echo's in a headlock.

There is a roar, like an engine coming to life and headlights blind me momentarily as the old black van skids to a halt in front of us. The sliding door flings open and Nemo steps out onto the gravel, grinning manically at us.

"Need a ride?"