Sonic: Resurrection
Part Two
Crowe leaned back on his couch, a thin line of smoke rising from an incense stick on his endtable. An ashy smell of cinnamon filled his nostrils, keeping him relaxed. The balcony overlooked the entire beautiful city--large skyscrapers and an elegant skyline, the swooping deserts where there was once a forest. Crowe was excited. Everything was going his way.
“Getting married, son?” a stern voice said from the other side of the balcony. “A hell of a thing to not tell your own father.”
Crowe turned to see Knuckles standing there, pulling his star-brimmed fedora down to shade his eyes.
“Dad?” he said, knowing he was in trouble. “Why are you here?”
“Because I know how much you are jealous of Lara.” Knuckles said. “You’d do anything to try to equal her, and this proves it.”
“Listen, Dad, I’m in love with Godiva. . .”
Knuckles' face lit up in rage. “Don’t lie to ME!” he said, picking his son up off the bed by a dreadlock. “I tried my best to raise you right and now you go off and enter a marriage that will endanger the livelihood of your island!"
“Not MY island, old man!” Crowe said, wincing at his pulled headspine. “That’s not my home anymore.”
“You know why Scor wants you marrying his sister.” Knuckles said. “And you still enter the marriage.”
“I’ll be royalty!”
“You’ll be nothing but another slave,” Knuckles said. “I’m ashamed of you.”
Knuckles threw his son back down on the couch. Crowe looked at his father, a man he would move the world to impress, a man who challenged the entire Brotherhood to spend time with him. Crowe licked his fingers, putting out the incense.
“I just want to be like Lara-Su.” Crowe said. “I just want to be somebody important.”
Knuckles sighed. “This is not the way to do it,” he said.
Crowe drooped his head. “I’m sorry dad,” Crowe said.
“You can make it up to me, son.” Knuckles said. “By marrying Godiva.”
Crowe looked confused. “I. . don’t understand. . .”
“I didn’t expect you to.” Knuckles said. “But Scor’s plan is a good one, and it can work both ways. If you marry Godiva, Scor will think he has the island at bay, and we will use that false sense of security to dethrone him.”
“But the Brotherhood. . .”
“The days of the Brotherhood doing nothing are over.” Knuckles said. “We will not watch as this world suffers. We did that with the Overlanders, with Robotnik, and in the Robian’s war. Thousands died, while we talked about why it was a good idea to let them. My hands are stained red with the blood of thousands, because like my fathers before me, I chose to ignore pain and death.” Knuckles held out his gloves, and they were now a deep blood red instead of white. “I won’t let more suffer. This time we will take action not just for the Floating Island, but for all of Mobius.”
Crowe stared at his father, he never heard the words from another member of the Brotherhood. Knuckles had changed the face of the Floating Island, and he knew that.
“I’ll do what I need to do father,” Crowe said.
“Good,” Knuckles said. “Consider yourself forgiven.”
Trust is the ultimate weapon of Treachery.
-Ixis Naugus
“My life as a Traitor”
The wedding was a farce, but a nice farce. The banquet hall was filled with only the high ranking members of the aristocracy, silk banners of the kingdoms flew, bands played soft music and gourmet h'ors d'ouveres lined the black laquer tables. Godiva and Crowe said the half-hearted "I-do’s" to the cheering of the crowd.
The reception had only begun when Scor took the head of the table, quieting the crowd with a hand in the air.
“My fellow Mobians,” Scor said. “Today we lose a sister, but gain an ally, a man of great respect and reputation whom we are proud to have as a brother.”
Applause echoed from the crowd.
“For this special occasion we have prepared entertainment,” Scor said. “In honour of our sister and her groom, we will engage in ritual combat with a warrior selected from the Empire.” Scor clapped his hands sharply. “Bring in the challenger!”
A Saudakar entered, and spoke. “Your majesty, we are proud to present to you your challenger. The most legendary fighter in all of Mobius,
Sonnu the Bushrat and his battle squire, Owen.”
Sonnu entered, the young Armadillo Owen carrying his flintsword, Rull close behind. Sonnu felt strange seeing Rull not carrying his sword and his medical supplies for the combat. He always had, but Scor told him Owen was far more experienced, and stood by the Emporer himseff in combat. He saw Scor wasting no time, his battle squire beginning.
“Owen, give me a full plus quarter load with black powder.” Sonnu said.
“His Majesty asks you use only smokeless power so as not to bother the guests.” Owen said.
Sonnu stared at the young armadillo. Rull had never questioned Sonnu’s techniques. “Please, it’s an advantage, I can see better in smoke then most people.”
Owen smiled. “The Emperor is half cat,” he said. “He will be able to see far better then you in smoke.”
Sonnu didn’t think of that. “Okay, smokeless powder,” he agreed. “But I still want a loud bang.”
“Yes master.”
Sonuu shivered. "Master". I’m nobody’s master.
“Now we see if our large investment in your training paid off,” Scor taunted. “We’ll fight you with our left hand, just to make sure.”
Sonnu smiled. It was tradition before combat to throw in a few good-hearted taunts. It apeared the Emporor was waiting for a retort. It took him a moment (he was taunting the Emperor after all). “We’ll see if luxury makes one soft,” Sonnu said as an “Oohhhh...” rose from the crowd.
Scor put on a game face, emotionless. “Well met.”
Wood clacked on wood signifying the beginning of combat.
Scor’s quick-draw was incredibly fast, almost as fast as Sonnu, but not quite. Sonnu was sure if they wern’t firing blanks Scor would have a wound now, not a lethal one since flintswords were a low caliber, but something that would at least slow him down.
Before the slight haze of the quickdraw cleared, Scor was charging again, incredibly fast. Sonnu noted how he moved, almost like ballet, smooth and
graceful. Sonnu blocked a blow from Scor, and Scor effortlessly pushed the blade to Sonnu’s eyes. Sonnu looked in Scor’s eyes.
They showed that he was not pretending.
Soonu reached to the badge on his vest, feeling the tingle of the sub-flesh shield. He noted that Scor’s flintsword had two barrels, and wondered why
he was saving one since they were only blanks.
The blade was almost touching Sonnu’s face now, and Scor wasn't even straining. Sonnu was sure that Scor could push the blade into Sonnu’s face and end the match quickly, his strength was incredible for someone so thin and lithe. Sonnu spun, throwing the Emperor over him and jumped to his feet. He felt a thin line of blood trickle down his face. The blade must’ve
touched him as he threw Scor. The sword would have to be razor sharp to cut that deeply without Sonnu feeling it.
Sonnu ventured a quick stab at Scor’s stomach, trying to use his speed, but Scor was almost as fast. Scor knew Sonnu was faster than him.
Come on, mutation, thought the Emperor. Show these people what you can really do.
Scor moved fast, and Sonnu knew he was faster, but in a kingdom that demonized speed, he felt that moving fast would be wrong. Scor pulled back the hammer on the second barrel of the gun.
“It ends here, mutation.” There was no play in the words, they were spoken from passionate hatred.
Sonnu knew something was wrong. He could tell by looking at a flintsword if it was loaded, and this one had a single lead ball with a double load of sand powder, super-acurate, and powerful enough to kill on one shot. (It was also illegal in ritual combat). The flash of light came followed by death, flying from the barrel.
Sonnu felt something inside him. His feet moved with reflexes almost faster than light, spinning out of the way with a movement faster than Sonnu’s mind. The bullet bounced off the floor. Sonnu saw it as if it was standing still.
So this is true speed.
Everything around him was still, and he moved with a speed almost unimaginable in front of the bullet, whipping his hand out to catch it. Sonnu had no idea why or how he did it, but he caught it between his fingers, slowing down only to place it in the Emperor’s hand.
Scor looked at the bullet. . .amazed. “Fastest thing alive,” he breathed, almost in a whisper.
Sonnu stared at the Emperor.
Scor stared back.
“Mutation,” Scor said. “You broke the sacred law; you moved faster then a bullet.”
“You tried to kill me,” Sonnu said, all fear and respect for Scor suddenly lost as something inside him awakened.
“We are an Emperor,” Scor said. “We shall kill whom we please. . .SAUDAUKAR!”
The massive robots grabed Sonnu’s hands and feet. He struggled, but the robots were infinitely stronger than him. Cold steel kept its place no matter how hard he pulled and twisted.
Scor strode up to Sonnu. The bushrat watched as he reloaded one of the barrels on his flintsword.
“We know who you are,” he said. “And what you represent.”
“I am Sonnu, the Hedgehog.”
“You beg to be executed,” Scor said, “but as we always say, oppression is an artform. We must first break your spirit.” Scor glanced at Rull, walked over to the boy. The Saudakar turned Sonnu so he could see.
Scor smiled, running a finger down Rull’s face, who was pertrified. Scor placed a hand across Rull's shoulder. “Yes, I see,” Scor said. “Not much is special to you, Bushrat, but this boy. .” Scor laughed. “This beautiful young boy, he means something to you.”
Sonnu didn’t answer.
Scor smiled. “His hide will make a wonderful coat.” Scor fired the flintsword point-blank range into Rull’s stomach. He watched with a grim smile as Rull crumpled.
Sonnu pulled pointlessly against his captors. “Bastard! He’s just a child!”
Scor ignored him. He paced around Rull, who was bent in a fetal position, slowly bleeding to death.
“Such an unpleasant way to die,” Scor said. “A stomach wound is the most painful. We should know, we suffered one once in training. You feel as if you should be able to breathe, but you can only choke; you feel as if you should be able to stand, but your legs don’t respond. You can’t even think, because the blood is slowly draing from your brain. You can panic, it’s all you can do. The boy feels fear now, fear like he never knew before. It’s a slow, and horrible way to die.” Scor rulled Rull over with his foot. “It will take him hours.” Scor rammed the flindsword’s point into Rull left eye, finishing him. “We aren’t that patient.”
Sonnu felt as if part of him died with Rull. His eyes went flush with tears almost immediately streaming down his face and into his nose. “Why?” he whispered, not even directing the question to anyone in particular.
But Scor answered.
“Because you were sure of yourself. Now all you feel is grief.” Scor smiled, striding over to Sonnu. “Grief paralyzes, like fear. You feel like you should’ve been able to do something, save him. But you were helpless. Of course you could’ve saved him, but you didn’t. Of course, you're going to die yourself, but I’ll wait until you reconsider. You're very unselfish, so it will be awhile before your own death will be anything but a relief, but we can wait. Saudaukar, lock him in the most beautiful suite in the palace, so his grief won’t let him enjoy it. Later, we will kill him.”
Sonnu was dragged off, not wanting to escape.
Scor looked at the mangled body of Rull. A slowly growing pool of deep red blood flowed around the boy.
“Someone clean this mess up.” Scor said. “Something like that can ruin a party.”
Crowe watched from the banquet table, almost wanting to throw up.
“You don’t look right honey,” Godiva said in a cutesy-poo voice that made Crowe shiver. “You look sad.”
Crowe stared at her in disbelief. "Are you blind?!?" He stood up. “You’re a nut!” he yelled at Scor, who turned around swiftly. “You kill an inocent boy
by stabbing him in the eye and you don’t even flinch! You even ENJOY it?!? What kind of sick weirdo are you?!?”
“Pardon us?”
“Pardon ME! “ Crowe yelled. “Not US! You're only one person stupid! You're a ME not an US! That is so annoying how you do that.” Crowe turned to the people. “I don’t care anymore, I know I’m gonna die, I know I’m gonna be executed, but I don’t care! Your Emperor is a spoiled perverted weirdo! I’m done playing his game!”
Scor contained himself, amazingly. “Well,” he said. “I. . .We wouldn’t bloody our blade on you, or give you the mercy of a quick execution. You’ll sit in the suite with Sonnu, as we find a more colourful punishment for you.”
Two more of the massive robots dragged Crowe off.
“You’ll get yours yet Scor,” Crowe said. “I’m gonna see you die.” Crowe laughed a bit. “ALL of you!”
Scor growled. “Well, he certainly ruined THIS party.”
Depression is a poison that one must control in his enemies; like fear, it cripples response.
-Ixis Naugus
“My Life as a Traitor”.
Sonnu’s tears had run dry, and his heart felt as if it stopped beating hours ago. He felt nothing. Didn’t even notice Crowe across the room, who was staring out the window, almost as if he was looking for someone. He ignored him.
Hours. . .into hours. . .the massive room was silent. Sonnu sat on a silk-ulphostered couch, a light music filling the room. . .a funeral dirge. Scor was a master of opression indeed.
Sonnu started to wonder why Crowe, Godiva’s husband, was in here with him. Sonnu didn’t even really know who he was. Some echidna, a warrior judging by his gloves. Shouldn’t he be at a honeymoon or something?
Crowe sighed, and spoke. “I’m sorry,” he said just above a whisper. “I wasn’t bound, I could’ve stopepd Scor but I didn’t. It might have ruined the plan.”
Sonnu looked up. “The plan?”
Crowe nodded. “I’m supposed to be here, I blew up at Scor after you left, knowing he’d send me here to confuse you. The Brotherhood knows how Scor thinks.”
“The Brotherhood of Guardians?”
“The same,” Crowe said. “Scor tries to keep them a secret, since it’s one of the only things on Mobius that he can’t control. I think you can agree that Scor needs to be dethroned, and a secret has been kept on the Floating Island, other then the Brotherhood. And considering what I saw you do earlier, I think my father Knuckles might be interested in you.”
“What do you mean?” Sonnu said.
“I can’t discuss it here.” Crowe said. “Too many forbidden words. The Emperor’s Order Pods will have me dead if I say them in the palace. I have a debt to make up to my father, and I think you're exactly what he’s
been looking for.”
“Too bad I’m gonna be executed.”
Crowe said nothing, setting a small device on the ground. Suddenly a hologram of Sonnu and Crowe apeared sitting on the silk couch.
“We’re invisible,” Crowe said. “All the Emperor’s eyes are seeing in this room is this illusion. We can escape.”
“Escape? “ Sonnu shook his head. “To where?”
“To where the Emperor will never find us,” Crowe said. “The Floating Island.”
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