THREE
Lucy and Amanda had raced around Venom until they had the Great Fox II in sight; flying as fast as their fighters would go, then simultaneously they slowed to a stop when their eyes fell upon the coming armada tear free from Venom's fog.
The two girls speechlessly looked at each other and then back at the hell swarm.
Lucy's ears perked up to Amanda activating her comms. "Slippy, you there sugar?! Please tell me you made it back alright..."
The high pitched, out of breath reply brought relief to the toad and the hare both.
"Yeah… by the… skin on my… bones! But I'm… alright. I'm heading up to… the bridge now. How are things… going?"
Falco blurted in, urgency pouring from his beak. "Not hot Slip', turns out Venom wasn't done serving us ugly bastards! I'm bookin' it back to the Great Fox myself; we're gonna need some serious firepower if we hope to survive the next four minutes."
"I'll see what I… can do, but with all… that we used during the first… skirmish, it's gonna be tight!"
"It'll have to... we got no other choice."
Lucy hadn't even noticed the approaching Sky Claw as it tore over their heads at top speed, bringing her to violently shrink into her seat from the shock.
"LETS GO LADIES!" The falcon ordered with anxious frustration.
Amanda irritably whipped around and bolted after him. "I'm surprised the great Falco still thinks this is worth it."
Lucy was about to follow, when she suddenly realized someone missing. "Fox!" She searched every sector of her field of view, checking each vessel coming her way, trying to pick out any familiar characteristics of his Arwing. When she saw it, the Arwing was flying ahead of the group; headed straight towards her.
Lucy allowed her tense muscles to relax, but they seized right back up as she watched Fox's Arwing turn around, fly above and straight back into the hoard.
She immediately honed her radio frequency to his. "Fox! Do you have a death wish?! Get out of there! You're going to get yourself killed!"
"I already should be!" He yelled back.
Lucy was taken back, remembering his engagement with Panther. Had he lost? "What are you talking about?!"
"Panther had me! He was about to take my life when... when she swooped in..."
The hare's back fell into her seat, her head against its rest as her eyelids sank closed. "Krystal..."
"Yes! She put herself between Panther and I and took the blast for me! Now she's drifting into Venom's atmosphere and I'm going to lose her any second! I won't let her die for my sake! It's my life that should be gone right now, not her's!"
Lucy brought herself forward again, panic setting in as she opened her eyes to realize she could no longer see his Arwing amongst the coming swarm.
A loud cry from Fox spiked her terror.
"NO!" He exclaimed.
Lucy's heart started racing. "Fox? Fox?! What's going on?! Can you hear me?!"
No response.
Lucy's heart-rate increased as she still couldn't spot him. "Fox! Come in Fox! Do you copy?!"
Silence remained.
Don't die on me Fox. Please... don't leave...
Falco's voice replaced Fox's. "Lucy, you wanna get your pretty little cottontail outta there? You got about fifteen seconds before those fighters are in blastin' range of you!"
Lucy cleared her mind and tuned back into her current situation to find truth in Falco's words. She spun her fighter towards the Great Fox II and set her thrusters to full blast in order to have any chance of staying ahead of the coming storm. Hell Fox, I might just be dying with you...
…...
The vapors of Venom engulfed the vulpes' fighter as he began his descent, taking his visual contact with all fields of view; yet he didn't slow for a second. Instinct had consumed all rational thought; fear and anger pulsed through his veins and drove him beyond his senses.
Terror began to overrule his rage as he noticed that the radar screen on his HUD showed no sign of her Cloud Runner. Fox aggressively loosened his shoulder and lap restraints, sitting forward and visually scanning beyond his cockpit windshield in every direction he could, anxious to spot her, yet his eyes met nothing but a vast, dense, murky red haze.
Steadily, the fog began to clear as Fox approached Venom's surface; giving sight to Krystal's fighter a few hundred kilometers below and forward of him. Fox's heart leapt as he went to increase his speed to catch up to her, but in a blink the Cloud Runner made contact with Venom's grounds, crashing head on into a mountain peak. Her fighter disintegrated into the jagged surface as its burning fuel, oil, and shredded scrap dispersed along each crevice.
Fox fell still in his cockpit, his Arwing continuing on without command. His mind tried to fight what he'd just witnessed, replaying it over and over in hopes that he'd missed something. No… no, you can't... that can't be it! Fox started frantically searching the atmosphere around him, praying that she had ejected herself before the crash; but the murky red sky was empty. Fox instantly proceeded to pull what information his HUD had managed to collect on the Cloud Runner before its crash, finding that the cockpit had been confirmed as sealed; indicating that she had still been inside.
Fox's entire body sedately began shaking as he realized she was gone, her body torn and incinerated to dust; only memories remaining. Tears seeped from his eyes and streamed down to his gnashed teeth as the vulpes' quivering hands travelled to the back of his skull, pressing his fingertips fiercely through his fur into his skin until he felt his jagged nails draw the blood he yearned for; yet the wet, stinging pain brought no relief as he drug them past his ears and to his forehead, raking his eyelids as he tore them free into his lap; staring at the damp, stained fur on his fingers as flashes of her blood replaced his own. "I'm sorry…" He choked out as the red liquid streaming from his scalp mixed with his tears. "None of this should've mattered. I'm… I'm so sorry…"
A sudden beeping sounded from the Arwing's control panel. Fox looked through his murky vision at the source of the noise and realized he had ten seconds before he flew straight into the hellscape himself. Fox's facial muscles relaxed as his eyes focused on the coming end, when a distant, familiar voice hollered in his head.
'Illusion!'
His expression remained unchanged, numb to the message as he peacefully closed his eyes.
'ILLUSION!'
His ears twitched as he, again, recognized the voice. This time his eyelids hardened, then snapped open as his instincts kicked in and he grabbed his Arwing's control levers; yanking them rearward with a force he had used only a few times in his life. The fighter rasped a cracking roar, spitting sparks and smoke as it pulled up just enough to avoid a nose dive into the rocky terrain, however nothing could be done to escape the bottom of the Arwing smashing into the ground and grinding away as it began to slow to friction. The cliff's peak caught it and sent it spiraling as it launched off it like a ramp. Fox pulled his body into a tight sphere as he was yanked about his cabin like a stone; his loosened seat harness doing little to keep him from smashing into all his surrounding components. Fighting against his body numbing into unconsciousness from the unyielding blows and unable to make any sense of his cockpit anymore, Fox crept his hand to his headset and activated his voice command input, sending up a prayer as he hollered, "DIVERT… ALL… POWER… TO… SHIELDS!"
The computerized voice of his fate answered. "COMMAND UNCLEAR, SAY AGAIN."
Enraged horror spiked in his heart as he thrust his arms out and grabbed his control levers, using them to stabilize his body while desperately maneuvering them in any way he could to stop spinning. "Useless… piece of…"
Just as he felt his Arwing beginning to right, he felt the fighter slam back onto the surface, yet before his vision could clear he rammed into something else. The Arwing gave, flipping over into the air and landing belly up; continuing to slide along the harsh grounds. Fox could feel his grip on reality fading from his control; fighting his blurred vision as he assessed his situation. Fox looked through his transparent hatch and noticed something different. It wasn't rock he was tearing through anymore, it was a smooth surface.
Without pause, his head was thrown into his forward view window as the Arwing smashed through a wall and came to an abrupt halt. The last thing he saw as his sight succumbed to darkness was the slow, constant flashing of the warning lights in his HUD and the Arwing's control panel, backdropped by the sleek path he had rocketed down with large pieces of debris falling from above and smashing both into the ground and upon his fighter; then all went dark.
….
"I've gotta get out there and help her!" Amanda said anxiously, "She's not going to make it!"
"You aren't going anywhere!" Slippy yelled, "Lucy's got enough experience to save herself, and I won't have my wife flying into that mess!"
"Besides, not like we have much of a chance surviving ourselves; either." Falco stated coolly.
Amanda's face was turning red from anger. "Falco, shut up! Slippy?!"
Slippy's high and mighty tone dropped back down to its pitiful pitch. "Y-yes dear?"
Amanda's voice took up a pleasant and sweet manner. "That's my dear friend Lucy out there. You know I would do anything for you, but I would also do anything for her. Now I'm gonna go and give her a hand and save her life, okay sweetie? I do promise to be careful."
"B-But-!" Slippy rejected.
Amanda cut him off. "Bye baby." She said in a sweet, playful manner, before setting off to save her friend.
"N-no! Amanda, get b-back here! I am your husb-band and y-you will obey me!" Slippy got no response. "P-please?"
"Face it Slip', it's just you and me now." Falco snickered.
"B-big help! It was your order to come back to the Great F-Fox! What was your comment about us 'not surviving' all ab-bout?!"
"I said it was our only chance. I never said it would actually work."
"Oh y-ya? Well if t-this is so pointless, captain, why don't you just fly away?! Escape while the fleet is distracted with the rest of us!"
"I'm thinkin' about it." Falco replied.
Slippy said nothing, just slammed his head down on the control panel in front of him.
…...
Come on Lucy, you're almost there, just another minute... Lucy glanced over her shoulder. Dear Lylat, they're right behind me! She watched as a Venomian fighter took the first shot at her. She pushed down on her control wheel to avoid it, just to pull up again; avoiding a second shot. A flurry of laser blasts followed and Lucy spun into an aileron roll that carried her upwards while deflecting the blasts off her fighter. Please, oh please, don't die! This can't be it! Fear quickly turned to embarrassment, bringing Lucy to control of her quivering. "C'mon girl, get a grip!" She murmered. "Fox flew straight into this hoard and made it!" She continued darting left and right, up and down; throwing in an aileron roll whenever there were too many blasts to dodge. "Hopefully…"
"Lucy, duck!"
Lucy quickly lowered her fighter and watched a Nova Bomb shoot right over her head and back toward her pursuers. Tracing the trail of the bomb, she found Amanda's fighter to be the source. Lucy breathed a sigh of relief. "Oh Amanda! Thank you!"
"Don't thank me yet! That hardly slowed them down, we need to go!" Amanda drifted her fighter around and took off in the other direction, with Lucy hot on her heels.
Slippy's voice came over their headsets. "Come on girls! You're almost within my firing range, give it all you got!"
The enemy planes were gaining on the two females, who continued to desperately try to escape the fate that each shot from their pursuers contained. In the midst of dashing around, Lucy kept her eyes trained on the team's mothership; they only had ten seconds until they reached it. She sent up a quick prayer of hope. Please! If anything is up there, if anyone is watching over us; spare us!
…
'Someone… Help me…'
Fox jolted awake with a short, sharp cry from the sound of the vixen's pleading. There was something intimately familiar about her voice: he hadn't heard it externally, but internally. Her telepathy... "She's still alive!" he breathed, flooded with relief, taking a brief assessment of his cockpit. His vision was still foggy from waking, and the dim amount of red light leaking in through the glass did little to illuminate the picture.
Fox looked down at his chest where the buckle held the straps together that kept him stationary in his Arwing. He pulled the lever to release the buckle and instantly fell from his seat, slamming head first into his cockpit window, the rest of his body crumpling down afterwards.
Fox hollered in torment from his skull igniting with a fierce, throbbing pain as he remembered the crash; disputing whether he regretted loosening his straps in his desperate search to spot her. The vulpes let out another short-lived holler as the agonizing pain rushed through his cranium again; grasping his head tightly and praying for it to recede even for a moment.
A wet sensation in the fur on the back of his head, neck, and his forearms succeeded in pulling his attention as he let his head roll to one side and felt the moisture creep up his cheek; laying eyes on the murky red liquid he was lying in. He lifted his hand and held it above his face, watching the scarlet fluid drip from his fingertips; feeling each one land on his snout.
Dizziness set in and Fox began to feel light headed due to his sudden knowledge of blood-loss. He let his hand and arm fall back into the cold, thin spread pool; slipping from consciousness fast. He focused on Krystal, terrified to decipher what was reality. His HUD had scanned her fighter, her cockpit was sealed; she'd never ejected. But you heard her cry, that… that was her! You can't die here! You have... you have to save... save... her...
Fox's previously closing eyes snapped open as fiery passion and determination radiated from his hazel green irises. He rolled onto his side with a growl, ignoring the chill caused by his blood that continued to soak his fur and seep through his clothes as he brought himself to his knees. He looked up and around his tightly enclosed prison, giving his eyesight a moment to clear itself of the fog brought about by his movement.
Suddenly and violently he curled over as an overwhelming nausea rose in his stomach. Fox quickly made himself still, taking deep, slow breaths until the nausea subsided. Once under control, Fox took another look around until he could perceive everything as it was. He looked up toward a section of the Arwing's flooring that held a built-in door; the escape hatch. Better grab a mask first. He reached over to another side compartment and pulled out a small, black, muzzle shaped mask that was designed to mold and fit to the wearer's snout; allowing the wearer to breathe filtered oxygen.
Fox remembered his headset when it provided resistance against applying the mask. He removed the headset with his free hand, examining its extensive damage. The eye visor had snapped off, the mic piece was bent and deformed, and the three-limbed body was dinged and dented enough that the internal parts had most likely taken damage. Pretty much done for… At least you helped protect my skull from fracturing, and thank Lylat that visor didn't pierce my eye! Fox thought with the brief tilt of his head as he swapped the headset for the snout filter and applied it; its brim and snout tip glowing a bright blue as it sealed to his face and activated with his first breath, then went dark.
As if rehearsed, Fox then grabbed a pair of slim, clear, single lensed goggles and slipped them on, adjusting the strap behind his head as an identical blue glow to the snout filter traced the goggles rim; fading upon completing the circuit as the wide lense became even more transparent.
After strapping them on, he took a moment to wrap his dark red, black checkered shemagh around his neck, head, and ears in a way that covered more of his furred skin, then rolled his white and grey soft-shell jacket sleeves down along his forearms.
Fox returned his attention to the escape hatch above him and slowly got to his feet; maneuvering his head between the seat and the dash board until the two rotating handles built into the secondary exit were easily in reach. Fox pulled both handles from their safety locks, took a preparatory breath, then rotated them. Two simultaneous clicks sounded off, then silence. Fox's brows furrowed as he pulled on the door to see if the air locks had disengaged; it didn't budge. Fox rotated both handles back to their starting position and tried again; this time there was no sound at all. Oh hell…
Fox pulled on the door again to find his sparking fear to be true, the inner mechanisms had faulted. His heart started to race as he repeated his actions over and over, yanking on the hatch with all his might; his roaring frustration bringing him to punch it. "Fuck!" He spat, grasping his head as the pain spiked; bringing him a migraine. Fox looked down as his eyes danced in all directions behind his visor; thinking of his next options as he fought the claustrophobic dread of being condemned to the metal tomb. Okay, keep your head… There's another way out of here, there's always another way! He suddenly observed a three-decimeter long fracture in the Arwing's dome. Worth a try.
He searched for something he could use to break through the transparent canopy. My rifle! Fox looked over at the compartment that was built into every Arwing to hold an aviator's secondary weapon while in flight; the rifle was still there. He grabbed and yanked it out of the holder, flipping the weapon around to use the butt of the weapon to break through the windshield trapping him in his fighter. He knelt back down, inhaled deeply, then exhaled slowly; summoning as much energy as he could.
Aiming at the fracture, Fox grasped his rifle with both hands as tight as his muscles would allow, swung the weapon above and past his right shoulder, and brought the butt of it hammering down on the center of the crack with enough force to split a concrete brick; no change. He swung again, nothing; the crack remained its original size. The vulpes took a deep breath, then began continuously swinging at the polycarbonate. He hit it a third time, then a forth.
Come on! His mind begged in desperation.
A fifth, a sixth.
Please just break!
Seventh, eighth.
Fox's thoughts met his voice. "Damn glass, break!"
Ninth, tenth.
"You piece of shit! Why-?!"
Eleventh.
"-Won't-!"
Twelfth.
"-You-!"
Thirteenth.
"-Just-!"
Fourteenth.
"-BREAK!"
He went for another blow, but fell flat on his back mid-swing; returning to the wet crimson fluid beneath him. The migraine in his skull had numbed it entirely, further depleting his already spent energy. Fox couldn't even summon anything to release a howl of anger; he just lay there lifelessly, his backside soaking in blood.
NO! He scolded himself. You aren't giving up! If there is ANY chance she is still out there, you will, not, quit! Fox looked around. We're just going to have to get this fighter right side up!
Fox looked through the window and observed the angle of his fighter. The nose was touching the ground and pointing towards the opening left by the Arwing in whatever it was it smashed through, which meant the engines were aimed towards the inside of the structure; angled towards the ceiling.
Fox rolled back up onto his knees, placed his rifle back in its compartment, and looked up at the switch that powered his fighter and flipped it to the on position; no response. He checked all the power routing switches that prepared the energies path of travel throughout the Arwing, ensuring they were all correctly configured; they were. Fox gave the main power switch another try with no success. "Yeah... that's what I thought…" He muttered, maneuvering himself back between the seat and the dashboard; obtaining a position where he was looking down at what was normally considered underneath the control panel.
Reaching into his jacket pocket, Fox pulled out a single bladed pocket knife. "Had to thank you more than once for this, dad." As he watched his hand flip the blade out, he froze. 'Illusion…' Fox repeated the words over and over as he tried to recall their sound, recalling the fateful day he'd first heard it again.
Deep within the caves that led into the dark, stone heart of Venom, Fox had found and faced off with the monstrosity he was after. The two traded blows back and forth; Fox in his Arwing firing away at the colossal beast while dodging the enormous hands that swiped at his fighter. Fox gained the upper hand, and when all hope for the creature was lost, the brute somehow erupted into a propulsive, fiery explosion to take Fox down with him.
In the moment Fox thought would be his last, a warm voice called out.
"Don't ever give up, my son."
"Father?!" Fox had responded. In the brightness of the blast, Fox caught sight of an identical Arwing.
"Follow me Fox." Was the reply.
Following it back through the tunnels and out to safety, barely clearing the explosion, the fighter vanished, leaving Fox alone with his awaiting team as he desperately searched for it.
"What's wrong Fox?" Peppy's echo asked.
"Nothing…" Replied his own whisper.
His mind amplified the very recent sighting he'd had of his father once more over Venom, assisting him in the final battle against the Anglars and fading with a bittersweet, "...Well done..."
"Is something wrong?" Dash had asked him.
"No, it's... it's nothing…" Fox had responded vacantly.
'Nothing's wrong.' He heard himself finish as he returned to the present. Still could've just been your own conscience… your own instincts that got you through each time... But all the impossible Andross accomplished; and Krystal... His sight registered the blade in his hand and the panel in front of him. Don't have time for meditation, either way I'll have to keep my sanity in check.
Returning to his work, he used the knife to carefully pry off the metal sheet that hid and protected the wires in the dash. Examining the internal wiring, Fox caught sight of a small, flashing light bulb that indicated remaining reserve power; and a collection of switches off to its side. Flipping each one except for the labeled engine and thrusters, Fox smoothly put the knife back in its pocket and snapped the cover to the opening back in place. He then returned to his knees and looked up at his seat.
Facing the opposite direction, Fox reached up and got a firm grip on the sides of the seat, then pulled himself up with his arms; simultaneously using the rest of his upper body and core to roll up into the natural position of one sitting in a cockpit. Upside down at this point, Fox tucked his legs underneath his seat to hang in place while he strapped himself in tight. "No injuries this time." Alarm struck him when he was reminded of his scalp-wounds by the blood rushing to his head. "Better do this quick."
Fox hit a mechanical switch on his dashboard that brought his engines roaring to life. His right hand reached over to the thruster lever and grasped it firmly. And in three, two, one. Fox sent the lever to its forward position. The boosters sent fire spitting from their pipes, and the fighter gradually began to edge forward before blasting off at a remarkable speed.
The nose of the spacecraft instantly barreled through one side of the structure's opening and pierced into what Fox recognized to be a hover-car. The vehicle slid with the arwing until it slammed into a steel barricade, bringing it to a halt and giving the resistance he was looking for. The rear half of the jet shot skyward, and the entire Arwing vaulted over onto its underside. Fox had kept one hand on the thruster and immediately pulled it back the moment his arwing was right side up. The engines slowly died, and all was quiet.
Fox breathed a sigh of relief, then began to chuckle like a merry mad genius. "It worked." He said, pausing from his chuckling but starting right back up after his statement was finished. He placed his hands on his head and slid them down the back of his skull to his neck, ignoring the sting and still-damp blood from his wounds that had soaked nearly all his fur and clothing. He paused his chuckling again. "I can't believe it worked!" He looked up and took in his surroundings through the splattered scarlet fluid that now coated his windshield; the air of his mood quickly fell serious and on edge. The mist remained thin on the red planet's surface, revealing an unobstructed first-hand view of an aftermath.
Fox had landed in the outskirts of what remained of one of the many once thriving cities on the toxic rock. Not a soul could be seen; buildings lay badly damaged or reduced to mountains of rubble; hover-vehicles left charred, warped, and shattered; steel streets made warped, cracked, and strewn with debris and de-rooted tree skeletons that had once burst with life; all of this shadowed in a grim red hue that suffocated it all.
Suddenly the soft, yet terrified voice of the one who was down here with him rang through his head.
'Someone... please... help me…' Her words were weak and sewn with fear.
All thoughts occupying Fox's conscience died out, and his foremost mission took over as he unbuckled himself and leaned forward. I'm coming Krystal. Don't worry... I'm coming! He thought as strong as he could, hoping she could hear his message. He feared she was hurt and didn't have much time left; if it wasn't too late already. What if that's fake...? Fox froze in place. What if she is dead, and either my brain or this place is still playing with me... no! He grabbed his blaster rifle from its compartment, performing a quick function check on it. That's her voice alright, just as strong and clear as when she's communicated with me in the past! Until you see a body telling you different, you're not wasting another second in this cockpit!
Finding the rifle completely functional, loaded, and ready to fire, Fox grasped the rotating handle that would unlatch the air tight locks holding the canopy down to the frame of the cockpit; sending up a quick prayer before twisting it. A simultaneous series of clicks and squeaks sounded off, followed by a short and sharp hiss of the outside air rushing in as the cover was released from its holster. Thank Lylat! He placed his free hand on the cover and pressed upwards, flipping it over and allowing himself to climb out of the Arwing unhindered.
The moment he stood fully encompassed in the red planet's atmosphere was when he met, for the first time in his life, the humid, merciless heat that the rock contained. It was worse than any desert Fox had ever visited, or lived in on his home planet. The heat seemed to vacuum the very energy from his very body, while the moisture clung to his clothes till he was nearly soaked; further dampening the blood that coated them, creating a sticky feeling over his entire being.
He hopped off the Arwing and landed softly on the ground, when an overwhelming chill ran through his entire body. Fox had been here before, but never had he physically set foot on the planet's surface; he'd always flown at least one hundred meters above it. Now here he was roaming its very grounds. He could feel the malicious aura about the place, and Krystal was here. Please Krystal, PLEASE be alright...
In that moment, Fox's eyes recognized what he had first acknowledged as different sized branches from a burned tree, to be an incinerated corpse; lying a few meters from his foot, partially buried underneath scattered rubble. Next to it lay a fleshless, blackened hand that led to another carcass, then another, and another, until his vision completely took in the endless mass of corpses that intermixed with all the rubble and wreckage, nearly blanketing the streets; each posed in its own tormented position. Fox caught sight of more in the cabs of different hovercraft, others hung out from surviving window frames, balconies, and roofs; nothing but blackened skeletons with crisp, scorched muscle barely clinging to some of their bones at best.
'Think of it, Mr. McCloud.'
Fox's pupils slowly dilated as his hands clenched his rifle; the ghostly words taking the reins of his consciousness.
'Green.'
Krystal's tormented wail suddenly flooded Fox's head. Pulled from anger and thrown into panic, he looked in every direction trying to find any sign pointing to her location; his mind picturing all the horrors she could be undergoing. Krystal! I can't… where… where are you?! Fox spotted a trail of smoke rising into the air some kilometers into the ghost city, and took off towards it in a dead sprint.
Her cries grew louder and louder until they were all he could hear, tempting him to drop his rifle and clamp his hands over his ears. "Please stop hurting her…" Fox begged desperately.
Her screams became deafening, his head felt ready to explode. "LEAVE HER ALONE!" He hollered, pushing his pace faster; when he felt a hand grasp his shoulder.
The screaming instantly ceased, and the voice from before the crash took its place. "Not her."
Fox's heart stopped as he pulled free of the hand and skidded to a halt. He panted fiercely whilst everything, even the stirred dust around him, seemed to fall still. Fox calmed his lungs with a couple deep breaths before slowly turning to face the voice he knew too well; then stood still with a sinking heart.
His eyes had met nothing upon turning to see what had grabbed him; just the corpse strewn stretch between him and his downed fighter. I knew it couldn't of… but then what grabbed me?! Fox jerked up his rifle and scanned the entire area around him, searching for anything that could have been the culprit. I know something grabbed me! That was no trick! His heart began to race with a hit of excitement with the fear. Then, what if that was you?! Fox recalled how Krystal's screams had instantly fallen silent with what the voice had told him. I just hope that doesn't mean she's... Fox looked up and out toward where he'd seen the smoke, but it was gone.
His eyes filled with fear. What if it wasn't him, it could've been a lie to keep me from her... Fox clenched his fists around his rifle in kindling fury, then decidedly ran back to his Arwing.
Fox used the left wing of the fighter as a ramp to reach the cockpit. Once there, he pulled out a metal box roughly half the size of himself. Setting the container on the wing, Fox unlatched the lid, opened it, and pulled out a dark-grey tactical vest equipped with three fully-charged laser rifle power cells, two B-Bombs, two flash grenades, a condensed flare launcher with two additional flares, a compass, a tactical knife with a fifteen-centimeter fixed blade, a small medical emergency kit, and a hydration pouch slotted in a compact backpack; which he filled using the emergency water tank all Arwing fighters contained.
Fox took a generous drink from the water pouch by attaching the drinking tube to a port built into his filtration mask. Once done, he topped off the pouch, then slipped the vest on over his coat and strapped it snug to his body. Fox wiped a buildup of sweat off his forehead above his goggles, making some final adjustments to his scarf; ensuring it still covered as much fur as it could.
Next Fox made sure his laser pistol and its two extra power cells were securely strapped into the holster on his right-thigh, then grabbed a trio of compact, foil pouches with a long, winding tube secured to each one. A miniature image of a sandwich was posted on two of the packages, and a pasta on the third. Fox's stomach suddenly reminded him that it had been nearly a day since he last ate, drawing him to tear off the tube, connecting one end to a valve built into the pouch and the other to the same port he'd used for water on his mask, then ravenously inhaled its cold, processed contents. It's something. Fox thought, downing it in seconds. He then tossed the crumpled wrapping aside, grabbed another sealed meal from the container and stuffed it, along with the other two packages, inside his pack before strapping it snuggly to his back; then he closed the equipment box and secured it back behind the seat of the cockpit. Lastly, he shut the cockpit dome and picked up his rifle; swiftly running it through its functions before heading out.
Having confirmed the weapon fully operational, Fox hopped back down to the ground and scanned the area for the tallest building in sight; locating one about four kilometers from his position. Fox took one last drink from his hydration pouch, flushing the remaining food scraps from the port, and started off on a steady paced jog; sticking close to any form of cover as he weaved his way through the corpses and wreckage into the skeleton city.
…
Time slowed for Falco as he lit up an Aparoid flying dead ahead of him. Light engulfed his face as he flew through the immediate flame, which was extinguished instantaneously after by the freezing temperatures of space. He loved the sight of a live battlefield. Ships exploded all around him. Lasers, plasma blasts, and rockets seemed to come from every which way; soon to be followed by their initiator. Above all, there was a certain part of it that Falco savored the most: it was utterly silent; soundless chaos.
Space combat was an adrenaline filled dance to him. The graceful flight of the fighters, the maneuvers they would execute, the fire they could send out ahead of them creating a colorful display for the attacker, and a message of defeat to the attacked; all in complete silence. He felt quite at home in it. In a planet's atmosphere, a person could go deaf over all the noise of destruction that conflict always seemed to court. In space, no such atmosphere existed. Falco could hear himself think during combat, could hear the sound and feel the rhythm of his own heart beat as the adrenaline rushed through him; nothing compared to it.
Falco attempted to roll his fighter out of the way of some incoming laser blasts, but the spray was too wide and he was unable to come out unscathed. Another fighter lit up not far from his, casting another shadow of light over Falco's face as he refocused his mind; turning on his attacker and pursuing it through the hushed bedlam. "What the fu-... that's a New Cornerian!" He put his eyes in check as he scanned it with his HUD, but there was no mistaking the silver build; nor the unique gold sphere that bore the original banners and crests that represented the force of New Corneria.
Lucy came swooping in with an Androssian fighter on her tail, timing it just perfectly to send the two antagonists slamming into each other; creating a fiery pool that Falco blissfully flew through.
"Are we all aware we got some New Cornerians on the battlefield? Or have I just added truth to the term birdbrain?"
"I was hoping my eyes were just deceiving me…" Lucy replied.
"You and me both, girl." Amanda commented, locking on to one of the traitorous soldiers as she spoke. "They aren't just the fighters either, they all have shiny white pilots in the cockpit."
Falco grunted in irritation. "So, some of those corrupt bastards survived too…" He then shrugged and focused his attention on the next hostile. Fine, all the more partners with which to dance.
Slippy reported in to the team. "The Great Fox is running low on ammunition, power, and she's taking heavy damage!"
"The three of us just aren't enough to keep them all off of you!" Lucy said with concern. "How long until our reinforcements show?!"
A calm, rugged feminen voice interrupted the conversation. "Never in my life have I seen three mercenary pilots hold their own against this large a wave of fighters." The three Star Fox pilots could clearly hear the amusement dripping off her words. "I thought for sure you'd be dead by now, 'specially with what our Star Wolf faction reported in."
Lucy, Amanda, and Falco all looked over to see two approaching Cornerian battle ships, both at least three times the size of the Great Fox II itself.
"How one-sided was that story?" Falco gowled jovially.
"And if you're aiming to finish the job, you'll be handling this 'large a wave' on your own." Amanda scolded.
"I'm Admiral Shepherd." The voice replied. "I'm in command of these vessels you see before you, as well as all other waves of reinforcements standing by."
Amanda returned to her threateningly sweet tone. "And are these vessels, Admiral, here to help us?"
"Just you watch little lady." Both battleship's cannons turned towards the battle zone. "Oh and, clearing out might be a good idea."
In a flash, laser and plasma beams alike spat out of the Cornerian battle cruisers faster than one could count; igniting their intended targets. The Star Fox team turned tail and darted out of harm's way. The swarm of fighters, Aparoids, Anglars, and Androssians alike, all began to scatter to avoid contact with the incoming rods of light; instantaneously turning on the two new attackers.
If the Star Fox pilots could have seen the Admiral, they'd have seen a tall, lean, middle aged, black and bronze patterned Alsatian. Her densely built muscles tensed wantonly along her feminal frame beneath her fitted, well decorated, military dress uniform of the same spotless white as the rest of her crew; her golden, resolute eyes burning beneath the bronze, cheekbone length hair on her scalp. "Here they come." The Alsatian growled. "You have nothing further to fear from me or Chief O'donnell. In his brief transmission, he made me very aware of his team's treachery and is handling them himself."
"Handling himse- THAT VARMINT WAS IN ON IT!" Amanda hollered, completely losing track of a fighter she'd been tailiing. "Both him and 'Chief Powalski' kept us from assisting a teammate, attacked my husband, teleported us back to-"
"So we are also aware." The Admiral interjected firmly, holding up a staying hand. "The emergency recovery medical carrier you were transported to gave the report and we put two and two together. Wolf, and whoever above him that gave these orders, will also be dealt with in appropriate time; but am I correct in my assessment that he and his team are AWOL, and that we have a much more pressing force to attend to first?"
"Orders?" Lucy squeaked in disbelief.
"Word a warning Admiral," Falco butted in as he circled the far side of the scrambling hoard, "We got more than guerilla fighters in the group; New Cornerian's here too. Ya might wanna hold your boys back and just assist with cannon fire."
The comms were silent for several moments, then Shepherd's voice returned, accompanied with a blood lustful growl. "Pilots, I have just been informed by our on site intel that there are New Cornerians on the field. Tell our disreputable mercs what we thought had been taken from our wish list."
An army of voices roared from the comms. "KILL THE TRAITORS!"
Falco smirked as an internal fire sparked within him from their spirit.
Shepherd continued, her tone held its sinister pleasure; painting the hungry grin that was stretching across her own muzzle. "We'll mark our own fighters with something that can be picked up by our HUD's and relay it to all of you, but one way or another; my soldiers are coming."
Falco watched from the outskirts as large hangar doors opened on both battleships and the shimmering Cornerian fighters flew out to meet the coming storm. Lights continued to flash in both directions as the two masses clashed and the next round began. Falco's smirk grew to a similar grin of hunger as the Alsatian, then he flew to join his team. Adrenaline numbed Falco's body as he came to a certain realization. This isn't a battle anymore. A pleasant shiver ran down his spine. War has returned to Lylat.
…..
When Fox reached his target building he had no breath left in him; his lungs burned with the want for more air. His filtration mask cleansed the atmosphere's oxygen, but not fast enough to make it plentifully available. He took cover aside the remains of a hover car and worked to slow his breathing; using the time to perform another scan of the area for any signs of trouble. The countless bodies he had stepped over and gone around on his way had only heightened his alertness, ready for any one of them to turn out to be a living hostile. His anxiety had been joined with grief as he passed by all the deceased animals. Some of these are small enough to be younglings…
Fox hooked his hydration pack tube back up to his mask for another drink; savoring every moment of the cold, smooth liquid traveling down his throat. Once satisfied, he secured the tube back on his vest and began looking for an entrance into his destination. Finding nothing, he resumed jogging; heading around the structure until he came across a wide flight of steel stairs leading to a grand, shattered glass panel composed entrance.
Fox slowed his pace and knelt behind a large, rectangular, stucco flower bed placed around seventeen meters south west of the staircase. Fox checked every window and opening he could see for movement. Finding nothing, he removed himself from his cover and cautiously made his approach, staying close to any form of cover in case it became needed.
As he drew closer to the main entrance, Fox turned on his rifle's flashlight to scope out the inside of the building before entering. Upon reaching the doors, he shielded himself behind a large marble pillar on the left side of the entryway. Shining his light through the shattered, warped window frames, he swept the entire right side of what used to be a large furnished lobby, then quickly sidestepped all the way over to the other pillar placed on the right side of the door frames; finishing his sweep of the lobby's left side. It appeared to be clear, but there were plenty of desks, chairs, couch frames and tables that someone or something could be hiding behind; including a few charred bodies that could disguise a living soldier.
Fox voiced a hushed call into the building, attempting to stir any action, but everything remained still. Time being of the essence, Fox saw no other way than to just go right in. The automatic industrial sliding doors were non-functional due the ghost city's loss of power, so he slipped through the panels in the door; making as little sound as possible to not alert any threats that might be in the surrounding area. Fox slid through successfully and hid behind a conveniently placed couch frame not far from the doors. He waited and listened; no movement. Before continuing, he took out one of his spare flares, lit and threw it in the center of the lobby to light up the room.
The red glow didn't illuminate every crevice, but it made it so Fox could see everything at once; rather than individual areas with his flashlight. Once the lobby was lit up, Fox removed himself from cover and observed his surroundings; taking in what he finally deduced to be a hotel foyer. The front desk was made of polished wood; the tables suggested the same by the sight of their legs, but their tops were covered in rich linen. The tile floors were protected by a glistening sealant, the walls were made of pure pearl, and the furniture was genuine leather. A room like this was once filled with lights, people, and laughter. Conversations of business, travel, events, gossip, and pleasure used to echo throughout.
Now, the place was dead. The lights had gone out, the voices had disappeared, and all color had faded from the room. Cloths were torn and burned, wood had warped and splintered, and the walls and floors were cracked from fallen debris; even the grand chandelier that once hung from the ceiling had fallen and shattered both itself and the tiled ground. Decorating it all were the corpses of the souls that had been cowering in the lobby; another select few Fox identified as children, bringing him to bow his head.
Fox clenched his rifle tight in his hands, looked up, and launched a forward kick into the couch frame he had been standing behind. His boot traveled straight through the frail, metal bars; causing the couch to further collapse into itself. Grabbing the flare and unsheathing his knife, Fox sliced off the burning end and kicked the extinguishing stub out of sight. He then secured the other end in his vest before slowly making his way down one of the hallways in search of an emergency stairwell.
Fox scanned every corner and crevice he came across with his blaster rifle's flashlight for hidden threats, taking time to stop and listen for activity every now and then. He didn't have to search long, for he found the stairs not far from the building's gold door elevators. The stairway door had a small window frame in it that allowed Fox to peer through and see what was on the other side. Not spotting anything, he opened the door, which sounded a slow, eerie creek as it opened; echoing into silence throughout the halls. He paused and listened once more. Nothing. He walked inside and glanced upwards. The stairwell was encased in darkness, even the backup lights had been melted before they could activate.
Fox shined his flashlight up towards the top of the skyward tunnel. He was reminded of the building's height when his rifle's flashlight couldn't shine all the way to the ceiling; dust and debris particles floating in the air thickened the darkness even further. However, from what he could tell, the stairs were well intact. Here goes nothing.
Suddenly, the single alarm of an unlocking hovercraft echoed through the halls; then silence.
Fox's eyes snapped back toward the doorway, taking cover aside the entry and listening for any further sound. Hearing nothing, he doused his rifle light and raised it to a fire ready position; pausing to let his sheilded eyes adjust enough to the dark before slowly rotating around his cover to peek into the outside halls. There was no movement, but light now poured through a pair of double sliding doors further down the hall. Tucking the butt of his assault rifle tightly into his shoulder and keeping the barrel at the ready, Fox stepped into the passage, and hugged the wall aligned with the doors as he crept toward them.
His approach felt eternal as he worked to make his every step soundless; keeping his eyes trained on the light ahead. A small piece of glass shattered beneath his boot, causing every muscle in his body to tense. He listened for any reactions, …Nothing. Fox took a silent breath, then continued forward; ever more cautiously. Fox reached the doors and crouched low to the ground before attempting to peer into the light; letting only one of his eyes protrude from the wall.
Fox saw a vast, weathered car garage that was filled with the exploded remains of countless domestic vehicles; except one. Parked only a few meters from the doors was a hovercraft seemingly untouched, unlike the rest of the planet's wreckage. It was from the headlights of this hovercraft that the light came from, and what Fox instantly guessed to be the source of the alarm. Fox quickly did another scan of the area, checking for who had unlocked or even occupied the vehicle. Finding nothing, he shot a glance behind him to check the halls, and his heart leapt as he aimed his rifle at the silhouette standing over him. His eyes honed-in on it before he pulled the trigger and upon recognizing the figure, his entire body locked up.
"I'm going to run an errand for your father, okay?" The vixen told him, her expression warm and compassionate; her voice as soft and sweet as when she told stories and sung lullabies to him as a cub.
Fox's jaw fell ajar, she looked just as he remembered her. Sleek, orange, well-groomed fur enwrapped her body; pure white fur overlaid her muzzle and cheeks; a smooth, silk, pearl-white dress draped over her coat; her hands and forearms encased in gloves of the same fashion.
The vixen smiled lovingly at him, reaching out to rub the hair on his head.
Fox instantly struck the hand away, keeping the rifle trained sharply on her as his baffled gaze grew cold; his ears laying flat on his skull.
She looked upon him with amusement. "Okay tuff guy, just know I love you and I won't be gone long."
Fox's arms were beginning to shake, he couldn't believe what he was hearing; the vixen was telling him, word for word, what she had on one cursed night.
She stood straight again and walked toward the double doors; stopping before them and looking back at him with a pleading expression. "You know your father usually would be helping both of us, that's why he needs rest tonight. I don't think either of us want him working himself to death; like he loves to do." She added humorously before stepping out.
Fox had stayed put, his mind in complete disarray as he tried to convince himself that what he was seeing wasn't real. She's not even wearing a filtration mask… but I smacked her hand away! I felt her wrist! This must be more than imagination, it's- Fox's thoughts were stopped by the recollection of what came next. Fox leapt to his feet and ducked through the panels in the sliding doors; seeing his mother already settled into the car.
Fox's heart took control as he stood, reaching for her. "Mom! DON'T-!"
The vehicle ignited with a blast that knocked Fox back through the metal sliding door frame and into the wall across from it. The impact forced all air from his lungs before he even slid to the ground; his limbs going limp upon contact as he lay gasping for its return. "No…"
His eyes grew wide and moist while he watched the infernal burning wreckage, catching glimpses of her between the lapping flames. Suddenly the door snapped off, and her hairless, charred, mutilated figure fell out and lay motionless on the ground; the flames still feeding off her drying, crisp flesh. Fox's throat constricted with his heart as the weight to weep grew; no longer able to recognize her remains as any different than the other billions of corpses strewn over the planet. "Why…?" He asked vacantly, his wetted eyes behind his visor's glass still locked on the unrecognizable form.
He had no recollection of how long he'd sat there before his body went to roll to its feet and was met by countless piercing stings throughout his entire frame. Fox looked down to find that glass and other shrapnel had implanted themselves into his skin from the explosion, blood oozing from each wound. Thankful that his distance had kept any of the pieces from penetrating deep, he released his grit teeth from the bittersweet pain and stood; limping his way over to his mother and kneeling at her corpse. The fire had inexplicably suffocated and left everything cold by the time he reached her, allowing him to pull her stiff body into his arms and hold her in his lap.
"I'm sorry mom…" He whispered sunkenly, brushing her cheek as each of his tears evaporated upon reaching the rim of his goggles. He closed his eyes tight and hunched over her, pulling her body tightly into his as he convulsed in uncontrollable sorrow.
"Your father…" Came her soft, broken voice.
Fox's heart stopped again, his eyes opening as he relaxed his grip and lowered her till he could lay eyes on her face again.
Her expression was recoiled into one of grieving from pain and fear, black tears impossibly pushing from her ashen eyes as she continued to whisper before him; flakes of skin breaking from her torn lips as they moved. "It... wanted… your father…" She sobbed as her entire body collapsed to ash within his arms; the last of her remains pouring effortlessly through his curled fingers that went to tighten their grip on her in vain.
Fox fell into shock, his jaw hanging loosely, his eyes locked on the gray pile that finalized her memory.
Suddenly a loud, startling crash came from the levels above him; shaking his entire floor.
A haze of particles showered Fox's body that had instantaneously flattened to the ground to avoid whatever had assaulted the building. His surviving will forced him to get up, snatch his rifle and bolt back through the sliding doors in case the roof was caving in, but nothing fell. Fox resumed swiftly scanning the area while waiting a few moments to ensure the end of the noise's activity, then dashed back into the garage and toward a vehicle ramp that would take him to the upper levels.
He kept his eyes open for anything as he went, making it to the third level before he caught sight of what he'd heard. It was an Arwing, identical to the first he'd ever flown.
"Couldn't save her." Came a collection of hushed whispers.
Fox hardly reacted, focused on starcraft as he warily approached it; his rifle at the ready. The fighter had crashed through the gap between the third and fourth level and slid through all the wreckage until coming to a halt mid-way through. It had undergone extensive damage, far beyond what was inflicted from the crash; as if it was just knocked from a bad firefight.
Fox flinched when the fists of the pilot slammed into the cockpit window; with his father, James McCloud, behind it.
Fox's rifle lowered towards the ground. This is… this can't…
"Couldn't save her."
"Couldn't save her."
A fire's glow suddenly illuminated inside the cockpit, rising steadily as the tips of the flame began to tease all around his father. James stood still, his muscles remaining tense from his assault on the windshield as he watched Fox with a patient, sorrowful expression.
"Couldn't save her"
"He couldn't save her"
"Deserves to burn"
"Burn…"
"He."
"Couldn't".
"Save."
"Her."
The whispers grew louder as they finally grabbed Fox's attention, reverberating as much within his own head as outside it as his lowering ears began to twitch from their presence; then his heart constricted in horror as he felt his jaw move, and heard his hollow voice join the countless whispers. "You deserve to burn…"
His father's head bowed as the flames engulfed him, then flew up again as he released a shrieking howl that carried the unbearable pain to his listener; writhing around in the cockpit till he crumpled to the floor out of Fox's sight.
Fox remained motionless as he listened to the continued torment; his eyes twitching between understanding, agony, and rage within his empty gaze. Steadily they widened in alarm as terror bled into the rest of his gaze and lowered his tightened jaw.
Fox took off around the fighter to the escape hatch and tried to open it; yet received the same result as in his own fighter. Panic lined fury fueled him as he rammed the butt of his rifle against its exterior handle in desperation, tossing the weapon aside after the vein attempts and frantically searching for a thin piece of metal within the rubble. Not finding one he pulled his knife from his vest and tried to pry it open, the blade swiftly snapping from the immense pressure. Fox screamed a curse into the sky as he leapt upon the Arwing's hull and grasped as much of the petite edge of the cockpit dome as he could and tried to lift it free, but in seconds the searing heat came through and broke his grip; his back smashing into the pile of debris several feet below. He lay there gasping for breath, the fight in his eyes extinguished as they screwed shut; pushing free the tears that had built up on their surface. What are you even doing... His shoulders sunk as he let his head fall back into the crumbs of rock beneath. This isn't real...
The life in Fox's emotions faded as he worked his way to his feet, gritting his teeth from the blow of his fall and the pain of the shrapnel still lightly embedded throughout him; feeling the blood still slightly oozing into his fur and clothing. His gaze still fallen, Fox sluggishly picked up his rifle and stiffly walked away; headed toward the sliding doors on that level.
Without warning, an explosion accompanied by shattering glass sounded off; followed by a percussion wave that knocked Fox right back to the ground, barely keeping his snout from smacking it as his body was showered in the transparent fragments. Fox could hardly contain the urge to curl into a ball and weep like a sobbing kit; mentally and physically spent as his entire body stung from it's countless inflictions; his mind nearly broken from being forced to witness his life's nightmares first hand. Just keep walking… He told himself, clenching his jaw as he pushed himself to his feet and continued agonizingly closing the distance towards the opening back into the hotel. Don't look back… just keep walking.
His gaze was lowered at the ground as he stepped inside, inattentive to the darkness that encompassed him as he walked by memory towards the stairwell. His steps became a blur until a cold breeze woke his senses, and his ears perked up to the sudden silence as he found himself doused in a dim blue light. Fox looked up and found himself on the roof of a place he remembered too well. The thick, crimson atmosphere had been replaced by a cloudless, starry sky with countless, bright lit buildings surrounding its base in every direction. No… not here. Please…
"Fox…" The vixen called.
Fox froze, her voice bringing him a chill worse than the breeze that swept through him. He couldn't look towards her, unable to face what he knew he was about to see. Snap out of it. SNAP OUT OF IT!
"Fox…" She called again.
Fox's eyes were forcibly drawn to her.
Krystal stood exactly where she had that night; tears streaming down her cheeks.
Fox worked up a growl in a fight to keep his mentality. "You're not... real..." Fox lunged towards her. "Leave me!"
"You left me, Fox..." Krystal wept. "You left me all alone in the dark."
His gaze snapped away from her, cringing at her words; nothing compared to their fierce sting. "I… I'm sorry…" He cried, steadily looking back at her. "Not a day goes by I don't regret abandoning you… I'd give my life to make it right."
The stars were instantaneously blown from the sky as the blood red hue returned and all the buildings around them began crumbling under a shower of lightning. Fox's fearful gaze returned to Krystal, and his eyes snapping wide with shock at finding that her entire left arm was missing from her body. Terror tore through his veins as he caught sight of the shredded, blood coated limb lying before her.
"Couldn't save her."
"Couldn't save her."
Suddenly she was knocked back towards the roof's edge. Krystal's eyes returned to Fox's; her iris' shaking in fear. "I'm scared Fox…"
Fox's pulse went flat as Krystal was knocked from the roof. "NO!" Fox screamed, dropping his rifle as he threw himself at the roof's edge and reached for her; but in vain.
"Couldn't save her."
"You couldn't save her."
He watched in pure dread as she silently fell to the ground tens of meters below; enveloped by a cloud of its dust upon impact.
"KRYSTAAAL!" Fox screamed, still reaching for her hand that he had missed. The dust cleared, and even from the distance he could see her bloody, disfigured, empty frame.
"You."
"Couldn't."
"Save."
"Her."
For countless moments, Fox's expression was still; then as the whispers continued relentlessly assaulting his mentality, it slowly began to constrict as fury filled every fiber of his body. Fox retracted his arm and slammed his fist into the concrete. "Why?!" He screamed, picking up a piece of rubble at his feet and throwing it into the sky. Fox dropped to his knees as he cried out again, "WHYYY?!" Fox fell to his hands. "What is the point of all this?!" Then leapt back to his feet as howled at the sky, "What do you want from me?!"
Lightning showered around him, breaking up the ground beneath his feet, and the bloodied, blackened arms of what he recognized as various Lylatian corpses reached through the rubble and grasped his legs; pulling Fox down into the pool of dense, boiling blood beneath.
"Coward."
"Deserter."
"Betrayer."
Fox's eyes widened in horrified realization. Lylat, the whispers. He leapt forward and fell to his front, grasping for any of the remaining rubble that he could, but the pieces continued to crumble in his hands as he was drug deeper into the scalding pool; his screams of pain doing nothing to drown the hissing from the corpses' very mouths.
"Drown with them."
"Savior."
"You."
"Wouldn't."
"Save."
"Them."
The scarlet fluid and all the scorched limbs within reached his shoulders and pulled his arms under. The torment in his eyes bleeding surrender as he howled his last breath in sync with a final thought, We deserve to burn… His entire face was then submerged and he was encased in the thick, syrupy, blistering darkness.
The blood had instantly infiltrated and filled his oxygen mask. Fox was drug further down by the countless hands now grabbing every part of his body; completely preventing him from swimming upward or even raising his own hand in defense. The life he held slowly depleted, and Fox soon felt himself fading from consciousness. Forgive me, Krystal… His mind went dark as his body used the last of his oxygen.
Suddenly, two additional hands grabbed his shoulders and yanked him upwards with a might greater than any others that held him. Fox was yanked from the pool and thrown to his front onto a ruff, solid floor. He opened his eyes and observed burnt carpet as he coughed and gasped for breath. His entire body was soaked with far more sweat than he recalled before, but to his slight relief he found no blood, no burns, no wounds, and he felt his rifle back in his right hand.
"Get up, Fox." The stern voice ordered.
Fox fell motionless, his eyes snapping ahead of him to see a pair of boots less than a meter away. Fox pushed himself to his knees then fell to his back; aiming his rifle at his father. He took a quick moment to take in his surroundings; he was in a small room with charred walls, warped furniture frames, and exploded appliances. Fox's eyes returned to the stranger present with him. "Release me!" He choked out, resuming his gasps for breath. "I'm tired of this game! Either kill me, or release me!"
James stood calmly in response, gazing at him patiently.
"RELEASE ME!"
James didn't respond, just continued looking Fox dead in the eye.
Fox glared back at his father. "This has never been real, has it?" He slowly worked his way to his feet, keeping the rifle trained on the stranger's center. "All those times before... it's been this place, this rock; you."
James's expression gave sympathy.
Fox held James' eyes, studying them closely. "My father is dead." He stated, dropping his rifle as he took on the same calm stance and demeanor. "I get the feeling I am too."
James smirked warmly and loving, steadily bringing his hand to touch the checkered red shemagh around his own neck. "I've never abandoned you."
Fox's eyes grew wide; the memory flashing before his eyes.
His younger body stood in a vacant room furnished with a long wooden table and several padded chairs; well lit by a vast window that displayed an endless stretch of grass and mountains that backdropped an advanced, shimmering city in the distance. He faced his father, who was standing by the room's closed entry door. "It's on a dumb suspicion! The military is always jumping at the slightest sound of danger!"
James spoke softly. "A threat is a threat, son. My job is to respond to any signs of hostile activity; even on suspicion."
"But look at where you're going! You were the one who always told me how dangerous that place was! That no pilot, no soldier, not a single damned explorer has dared venture into that shit-hole since its discovery!"
"Watch your mouth, you know your mother wouldn't want you speaking like that."
Fox lost it. He grabbed one of the padded chairs by its back and sent it crashing into the wall not far beside him. "MOM'S NOT HERE!" The cracking sound of the afflicted wall pierced the otherwise silent room. Fox instantly stopped, realizing what he had done; and waited for his father's outraged response
Yet in lieu of retaliating, his dad just stood calmly and quietly, with a look of pity and sorrow on his face.
Fox determined that James was waiting for him to finish. "That bastard killed her!" He yelled, his expression contorting back into one of pure rage and immense grief. "How?! How could you let that bastard KILL HER?!" He glared at James, who had hung his head during the assault. Fox said nothing else, feeling pride at his father's silence. The pride was crushed when his father lifted his head and Fox saw the tears that swelled in his eyes.
"That's why I have to go. If there is even the smallest possibility that bastard may still be alive, I have to find him. He deserves nothing but justice for what he did to your mother; to my wife…" James trailed off and lowered his gaze, but quickly built up the strength to continue. He looked Fox dead in the eye. "If he is still breathing: I, will, kill him."
Fox looked down at the ground. A few moments passed before he found his voice again. "Fine, go die like everyone else." He turned away and looked off at the sun draped city. "You've already dumped me at this academy anyway."
James flinched visibly. "I know I haven't been around in awhile… Pepper says you're doing well?" He offered with a warm smile.
Fox merely scoffed.
James lowered his head, rubbing his nape with his hand. "About as well as I did, I know… Just… trust me that this is-"
Fox whipped back at him. "That bomb was meant for YOU!"
James once again stood silent.
Fox continued, "You were supposed to take the hovercraft that night! Not her, YOU!" He slammed his fist into the wall as he finished; attempting to keep his glare locked on his dad, but struggled from the thought of the possible future. "It's been a long time since that day… If he came up with something like that, he'll have something else in store for you when you go…" Fox fought back the tears that were attempting to come out.
The room became still for a few moments, then James spoke. "I won't let that stop me from avenging your mother."
Fox took a step back, feeling a sharp stab of betrayal. "You're not abandoning me like this." He growled as a fiery determination lit up his eyes. "I'm coming with you."
James had stood motionless for a few moments, then produced a warm smirk full of pride. "You really are all the best parts of me."
Fox burned at his father's boastful comment, but he held his tongue as James slowly started removing a red tactical scarf from his neck.
"You may call me selfish, you may call me conceited, but if the day ever comes where you care for someone as I did for Vixy, you will understand." He held out the kerchief for Fox to take. "I want you to have this. It's not much, but it's something I've used my whole career as a pilot. Take it, and remember this promise: I will never abandon you."
Suddenly Fox was looking down a dark well surrounded by cold stone; the same darkness enveloping his surroundings. From the pitch opening that tunneled far down into the earth came the same promise.
"I am always there with you."
Fox's sight cleared to the present as his hand touched the shemagh around his own neck. He looked his father over, not finding a single scratch on him outside of the chunk of skin missing from his left ear; James looked exactly as Fox had last seen him. Then he noticed that his father wasn't wearing any kind of filtration mask. Though his doubting expression had waivered; Fox maintained his still, firm stance. "How are you here?"
Suddenly James howled in pain, curling over towards the ground and falling to it.
Fox stayed put, preparing for whatever would be coming next.
James winced as he struggled to his feet. "It knows I'm awake." Standing straight again, he looked upon Fox with eyes filled with urgency. "Don't let it take you again; never give up."
"It?" He murmured, more to himself than the apparition. But he knew his father had caught his whisper by his eyes when they locked again, and another message from the same well breathed in his ears.
"His Life-Force is strong. His existence is like a virus. I can hear his breath in every corner of space. He will not only use the evil hearts of others, but he can also corrupt those that are good."
Fox shivered subtly. I thought that already came to pass…
He thought of Krystal when he first discovered her on Sauria, in a paranormal gem prison conjured by Andross as he attempted to use her life force for his gain. He thought of the rogue Cornerian Captain whom Andross' ever existent influence brought him and the soldiers beneath him to try to genetically bring the tyrant back.
What do you mean… it? Uncertain as he was, Fox unexpectedly found a kindling trust in his father the longer he looked into his knowing, unwavering gaze. "How can I tell between future apparitions? How will I know what's real?
James rebore the same annoying, smirk of confidence and pride as he pulled his signature pair of aviator glasses from his jacket pocket and slid them smoothly over his eyes. With the snap of his fingers, a small light ignited between them, casting its rays over everything in the room. The light grew brighter and brighter until it blinded Fox, then suddenly it was gone; along with his father.
"No-" Fox whimpered, reaching out towards the area his dad last stood, then slowly withdrawing in despair. His feelings for his father had just begun to awaken; he never got to tell him that he loved him, to tell him of the inspiration that he had been to him. Never in Fox's life had he imagined getting the opportunity to see his father again, and now the chance had come and gone before he could speak his mind. His entire body cringed tighter, feeling a sharp sickness with himself as he recalled his unresponsiveness to even the hallucination of his father's incinerating agony.
Suddenly, Fox's eye caught sight of something left behind. Repetitively carved into each of the room's walls were the glowing words his father had burned into his head since he was a pup.
Trust your instincts.
Fox's heart was struck with warmth as his jaw fell ajar into a smile and a tear escaped his eye; reading his father's answer over and over as his eyes traveled over every wall. Fox closed his mouth and affirmed his grip on his rifle with a small nod. "Thank you… father."
Fox immediately returned to the internal stairs and began climbing them at a newfound, energetic pace; forcing himself to regulate it and avoid burning himself out midway up. The climb only took a little over a couple minutes, being that he had already been on the twenty-seventh floor. He finally reached the roof of the forty-five-story structure; stopping to catch his breath before bursting through the door that led to the outside roof. Fox felt as if he hadn't run in months. Blast this filtration mask! He spitefully thought as he puffed. Eventually his heart rate calmed, and he shoved open the door that led to the roof.
Instantly dropping down on one knee, he brought his weapon's sights to his eye and did a one-eighty scan of his view of the roof, then spun around the exit's corner to scan the other half of the roof behind him. Finding nothing, he lowered his rifle and did a thorough three-sixty surveillance of the roofs beyond the hotel, looking for any signs of movement. He keenly watched for around about a minute, then stood up; dropping his rifle arm to his side. "Clear…" He murmured warily.
Something still didn't seem right. Above this planet, Star Fox wrestled, and was probably still wrestling, with too many fighters for no activity to be on the surface. Doesn't matter. What matters now is that I locate Krystal and get us both out of here. He scanned the surrounding area again in search of any signs of a crash, finding one.
Smoke was fuming skyward from one spot deep in the city, about nine kilometers from his position. From the color and thickness of the smoke, Fox could tell the cause was recent. The bad news was that the entire area between him and the crash site was nothing but a debris field.
Rubble from collapsed structures, trenches created by de-roofed metro tunnels, and thousands of different mobile craft stretched in every direction as far as the eye could see. Fox focused his eyes on the smoke, praying she had landed in a field and not into any sort of structure or trench; which held the potential to tear her powered down, shield-less fighter to shreds.
Fox reminded himself of her telepathic call that had woken him from his own crash, a call that he now knew confirmed her survival. Fox closed his eyes and focused. Krystal… he started choking on his own thoughts as another message from the dark well revived in him.
"You are meant to be together. It was your destiny. Together as one, you will bring peace."
He opened his eyes, looking out upon the blood red horizon that towered over that mutilated city as tears blurred his vision. I really did fuck it all up, didnt I…? He thought, feeling suddenly suffocated. His body tensed, veins bulging beneath his fur on his neck, forehead and arms as his limb carrying his rifle flinched upward as if to chuck it, but he came to a halt; his eyes cringing shut tight as he exhaled slowly. I'm all she has right now… I wont fuck that up.
'Fox…'
Fox's eyes burst open. "Krystal."
'Fox… they… they have me…'
At that moment, a loud, thunderous roar rippled through the atmosphere; infecting Fox's heart with a grim, blood chilling feeling.
Once the roar had faded, Krystal spoke again. 'Crash site… hurry…'