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Previous chapters available here:
http://www.wagnergrp.com/JBW_Website/Fanfiction_Frameset.htm

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-- Attached file included as plaintext by Ecartis --
-- File: JF11-2.txt



	His eyes were wet with tears, and blurred the jungle's foliage
into an undifferentiated mass of green. Strong hands tore through
braches, pushing past leaves and thorn covered vines. Grief and
desperation drove him forward, every forward, long after his gloves
ripped to shreds and fell to the ground in tatters. How long had he been
running? He did not know anymore. He did not care.

	His stomach rumbled for the hundredth time, demanding food.

	For once, there was none.

	'Forward!' cried The Voice. 'Almost there! Forward!'

	"Almost there! Almost there!" He managed to say, between panted
breaths. "Almost there!!"

	It was dark, but somewhere ahead was the light of torches and
fires. As he ran, he could feel the Emerald in his hand glow, tingling
his nerves. It was eager for him to find his friend. It had guided him
this far...

	Rushing through the last few plants that barred his way, He
paused in shock and horror. The smell hit right after the sight of it
all, and to his humiliation and self-loathing, his belly grumbled in
reply. Eyes wide in lingering disbelief, he fell to his knees. Around
the bonfire, several other felines - black ones - jumped to their feet.
Some had spears, and one had a gun of some sort. He hardly paid them any
mind.

	"N... no... no..." He inched forward on hands and knees. Towards
the fire pit. "No..."

	The Panthers watched him with curiosity, and then amusement.
They started to point and laugh, as he tenderly took the body from where
it was impaled over the flames. He burned his hands, but scarcely cared,
cradling the tiny corpse in his arms. Large unblinking eyes, blackened
by smoke, stared mutely back at him.

	They were dead.

	Empty.

	"Akka ma chu kaa! Ebamtu!" One of the Panthers approached, his
spear leveled at the half starved, but still imposing, stranger. With a
barking laugh, he stuck the small body with the tip of the spear, and
said something incomprehensible to his comrades. They all chuckled.

	"Stop! No!" He grabbed the shaft of the spear, and pulled it out
of the Panthers hands. "I won't... I won't..."

	"Taffa! Echam Aframmu! Aframmu ka!" Another of the Panthers
yelled, and they were upon him. Weakened by hunger and devastated by
grief, he was no match for the party of Panther warriors. They slashed
him with their spears, causing bloody but non-lethal wounds. Like his
old friend, he was no threat to them, so they could play with him first.

	He screamed and cried and thrashed, while he had the strength,
and managed to throw back a few of his attackers. But they came back;
move vicious than before. More blows came: from the flat of a spear,
causing a painful welt, from the edge of one, leaving a long scar. Kicks
came as he curled into a ball on the muddy ground. One caught on his
right ear, and tore it. He howled, an empty dead sound, and that
provoked more laughter from his attackers.

	For what seemed like an eternity, the beating continued.

	But he was in a far off place, and barely felt the blows. Slow
calm music began to play, distancing him from the real world. Out of
place from the serene calm he felt came a rising anger. He had always
been slow to anger, and liked to think of himself as a creature of
peace. He didn't want to fight. He didn't want to hurt.

	But he was being hurt.

	He would die soon, like his friend had. Was that the price of
peace? Was that the price paid for living a simple and peaceful life? He
heard a seductive whisper, but couldn't quite make it out.

	'No!' he thought. It was so unfair! He had done these mobians no
harm! He had lived a peaceful life! What had he done to deserve this?
What had he done?!

	The whisper grew slightly louder. Words. Words.

	'What have I done?' He wailed. 'What did either of us do to
deserve this?'

	Louder, still, the voice grew in time to his anger. His
desperation. His rage. Feeding it. The words quickly became more
distinct. He recognized it.

	It was the Emerald.

	It was trying to help him.

	Trying to save him.

	'kill them...' It whispered. 'kill them...'

	'I... I...' He was a creature of peace. 'I can't...'

	'Kill them." It whispered. "Kill them!"

	"I..." His own voice wavered, as fear and anger mixed in his
heart. What had he done to deserve this? NOTHING! What had his dead
friend done? NOTHING! They killed him! KILLED HIM!! Images forced their
way into his mind, juxtaposed by the eerie music, and the sound of a far
off organ. He... He...

	Back in his body, another kick smashed in his face.

	"Kill them! Kill them!"

	He...

	His friend's body lay in the dirt, black and charred.

	"Kill them! KILL THEM!"

	He...

	Hated...

	His hand reached out, and felt a comfortable tingling sensation
as it gripped the fallen Emerald. Almost instantly, a flood of power
entered his body. His vision became red, and with a feral hiss, he
leaned upward, and brought his hand up in a wide arc. The Emerald in his
palm hit one of the Panthers in the face with surprising force. He
remembered, clearly, how it tore off the other mobian's jaw and sent him
flying to the side. The Panther warrior, who had once been finishing off
a beaten foe, stumbled for a second, fingers clutching the torn flesh of
his cheeks, searching for a mouth that was no longer there.

	"KILL THEM!" The voice roared. "KILL THEM ALL!!"

	The others backed off, fear in their eyes.

	"TEAR THEM TO PIECES! MAKE THEM SCREAM!!"

	It took a second to get His footing back, but when He did, he
towered over the Panther war party. The injured one started to scream -
a horrid gargling sound. The Panther leader, the one with the gun,
raised it and fired. He felt no pain, and lunged. Long into the night,
they screamed. Only when the sun rose the next day did the last of them
die.

	Standing amid the mauled bodies, a hulking figure bellowed a mad
cry.

	In the trees, a flight of birds left their roost in the jungle
canopy.

	Hundreds of miles away, a large figure opened his eyes. Great
curving tusks made the creature's outline distinct, even from a
distance.

	"He is little more than a brute, this one," Mammoth Mogul spoke
in a tone once revered by millions of subjects, thousands of years
buried and dead. "Still, I suppose he will serve ... you well, now that
you have broken him."

	Another pair of golden eyes glittered in the darkness. "He is
now: Ysbadadden reborn, remade... Not better, but well enough for our
purposes. He will find the One I Seek, this God of Panthers..."

	Next to his Master, Mammoth Mogul sneered at the choice in name.
"He is no Ysbadadden, this beast you have unleashed. He is not even
worthy of the name."

	"Perhaps not." The other replied. "But he does not have to be.
After all, there are only three beings in this world that remember the
original. For the time being, a pale imitation will do."


-----

	Rouge watched the other she-bat for some time as she and Fiona
walked through the Panther village. It was strange, seeing one of her
own kind this close up. Her only clear memories of other Phyllostomid
mobians were of her mother and father, and the stories they had told her
about their 'old home' in Cat Country. The other female bat, one of
several held captive by members of the Panther Tribe, was shorter and
more frail than Rouge herself, likely a result of comparatively poor
nutrition.

	She was also brown.

	The other Phyllostomids had also been brown. Aside from the body
shape, and the wings, they didn't really resemble her, Rouge realized.
Was the different? And if so, why? Her father, she remembered, had also
been brown in color. Her mother had been peach and white - maybe it was
some strange hereditary trait in her family? She briefly considered
asking Fiona, suspecting that the annoying android would know the
answer, but decided not to. Not only was it an inopportune moment to
have an idle conversation, but Rouge was not keen to be beholden to the
fake Fiona.

	They were rapidly approaching the ancient temple that the
Panther village had been built around. Omega had done a superb job
drawing out many of the Temple's robot defenders. Heinrich was also
doing the same, and only a quarter of the normal guard remained behind,
the rest chasing Omega through the jungle or Heinrich through the
streets. Rouge wished her dingo bodyguard luck. Heinrich was good, but
he only had two handguns to fight with, and neither will full
ammunition. Against a half dozen Combots...

	"Dear Rouge," Fiona interrupted her companion's thoughts. "I do
believe we are being followed."

	"Followed?" Rouge whispered. "Are you sure?"

	"Would I be mentioning it if I wasn't?" Fiona asked, with a
small smile.

	"Alright." Rouge started to say. "I'll..."

	"Dear Rouge, do you trust me?" Fiona asked, quickly, as they
walked side by side.

	Rouge almost laughed. "Trust you? Not as far as I can throw
you!"

	Fiona nodded her head. "Yes. That is probably wise..."

	And, without warning, Fiona stopped walking, and grabbed Rouge's
right arm. Before the she-bat knew what was happening, Fiona spun her
around in a full circle, and then released her grip, throwing Rouge back
and into another mobian with a yelp of surprise and anger.

	"Geofre Ka!" The mobian Rouge had been thrown into yelled, and
pushed her off him. They were both on the semi-wet ground, and Rouge
silently cursed Miles' rebuilt Fiona Doll. Using her as a distraction to
escape?! The thought made Rouge's blood boil. Holding up her hands in a
pacifying manner, she quickly got to her feet.

	The panther male, an older looking sort, also got to his feet,
but more slowly. A dark looking metal blade fell out of the robes he
wore, and he quickly picked it up. He looked at Rouge for a moment, as
if examining her, when something else caught his eye. His head turned
just as little, before Fiona was behind him, one hand on his left
shoulder, another cupping his chin. Rouge watched, totally shocked by
the andriod's sudden reappearance, that she almost didn't see one of
Fiona's fingers tap the Panther on his carotid artery.

	The older Panther opened his mouth to speak, before his eyes
became half closed, and he started to slump. He tried to speak, for a
second time, but two of Fiona's fingers kept his lips from moving. From
behind the larger Panther male, Fiona's blue eyes moved to an empty
space between two large huts.

	Rouge understood the wordless suggestion instantly. Together,
the three entered the de facto alley. Rouge went first, brushing away a
large spideweb with her hands. Fiona then led them a little deeper and
around the bend of the hut on the left, so that they were totally out of
sight.

	"You could've warned me," Rouge complained, while Fiona set the
semi-conscious Panther against a wall.

	"The betrayal had to look convincing," Fiona said, simply. "This
Panther is a shaman among his people. Somehow, he knew we were out of
place here."

	"A shaman?" Rouge asked. "How do you figure that? He looks like
any other scruffy feline here."

	"The pouch around his neck is used only by Shamans of this
Tribe. Inside are several neck bones of whoever mentored him. They are
used to predict the future, much as Blood Rituals are used to see the
future in the Bat Tribe."

	"You don't say?" Rouge wondered if Fiona knew she had little to
no knowledge of her own people. Now wasn't the time to ask. "What did
you do to him? Is he dying?"

	"As I told you... I am no fighter." Fiona held up her right
hand, and Rouge saw her claws tense up. "But I am not defenseless."

	Rouge glared. "Poison claws? Why didn't you use those before?"

	"I did." Fiona gave Rouge a halting look. "It is only that no
one noticed. "Which is as it should be."

	Rouge raised an amused eyebrow. "Do you have poison lipstick,
too?"

	"Dear Rouge... are you that curious to find out?" Fiona puckered
her lips playfully.

	Rouge snorted in annoyance. "So this guy is what? Paralyzed?"

	"For several hours, yes." Fiona became serious again, and
approached the prone panther. "He will still be able to talk, and I
would like to see what information he may be able to supply us."

	Fiona then spoke in the Panther language. It seemed to take some
convincing, including Fiona showing off her claws, but they soon coaxed
him to talk.

	"Kabbal is his name." Fiona said. "He served this... god...
called Ysbadadden. He speaks of it as if it were a real creature, living
within the temple."

	"Is it?" Rouge asked.

	The Fiona Doll scoffed. "Don't be ridiculous. A 'god,' real? It
is just a tribal superstition that some Panther Priest is taking
advantage of."

	"Do you recognize the name?"

	"Ysbadadden?" Fiona responded. "Yes. He's a member of an obscure
pantheon of deities called the 'old gods' that predates Source or Aurora
worship by a millennium. Some pre-war religious scholars speculated that
they arose during the early years of the Pre-Republican Mogul Era. With
the recent discovery that the entity known as Mammoth Mogul was, in
fact, the founder of modern mobian civilization, that would date the
religion to around a thousand years before the adoption of the Mogulian
Calendar."

	"Ysbadadden," Fiona continued, "Was the God of Panthers. He was
also called the Lord of Eyes, because he supposedly possessed five of
them. Religious scholars speculated that he was the weakest of the Seven
Racial Gods who, in turn, served Mogul. The others included
Rhadamanthus, the eldest and most powerful, Ignatius, who was considered
the wisest, Mulciber, the generic 'trickster' type deity, Saffire, some
sort of fertility goddess, Elishiva, a god of creation, and Reptilian, a
god of destruction."

	"Rhadamanthus bakra? Elishiva ta Saffire ta Reptilian bakra?"
The Panther hoarsely asked, his tone showing surprise.

	"He wants to know how I know the names of the old gods," Fiona
explained, and faced the Shaman. She spoke again in their language, and
the two conversed for a minute. Rouge only understood one word:
'Mulciber.' It was mentioned several times by the Panther Shaman.

	"Fiona?" Rouge asked for a quick translation.

	"He thinks that the 'god' Ysbadadden in the temple may, in fact,
be another 'god.' Mulciber. He claims that their deity is acting out of
character." Fiona rolled her eyes. "Or something to that effect."

	"Ask him where this god came from. Was he always in the temple?"

	Fiona looked at Rouge in a new way. She was impressed. "I will
ask just that."

	Again, the back and forth jibberish. Rouge occupied herself by
looking over the roof of one of the huts towards the towering temple
mount. She was convinced, more than ever, that there was no way the
Panther could have built it. Supposedly, there had once existed great
and powerful civilizations in Cat Country around the time during and
after the Carnivore War, but the Dingo had destroyed those centuries
ago. Was this one of the great temple ziggurats built by the Anghor or
the Sorrun Yannai? Rouge had read about them (she was a treasure hunter,
after all), but never actually seen one.

	Her treasure sense started tingling.

	She had seen gold and jewels at the Marketplace, but nothing
truly exceptional. What if there was a magnificent treasure hoard inside
the temple, guarded by some crazy old priest and a malfunctioning Tails
Doll? She was already incredibly rich, but most of it was money she had
gotten through Miles, besides: what sort of story could you boast about
there? With gold and gems, however, every piece was not only a valuable
treasure, but a source of pride as well!

	"Dear Rouge? Rouge? You're drooling."

	"Oh. Oh! Sorry." Rouge wiped her lower lip, and smiled. Fiona
gave her a strange curious look, before getting back to business.

	"The Shaman here says that there used to be a Godhead inside the
temple - basically a statue in the god's likeness - but that about a
month ago it mysteriously broke. Several temple servants were accused of
the act of blasphemy, and were due to be put to the spear and flayed
for. Apparently that is standard punishment for blasphemy of any
sort..."

	"Regardless: on that day, when the temple servants were to die,
he appeared out of the jungle. This Shaman, Kabbal, says that the
newcomer looked exactly like the godhead, except much larger. Larger
than any normal Panther. He claimed to be the Ysbadadden, a god made
flesh. None dared question him, given both his appearance and the timing
of his supposed return."

	"Sounds like a set up to me," Rouge added.

	"I'd agree with you there." Fiona sighed. "After he appeared,
and made residence in the temple, he ordered the Panther Tribe to begin
searching the jungle nearby. He brought in nearly every warrior from the
entire Tribe, from every nearby village, for the task. The Shaman even
says that he was ordered to speak to the nearby Tiger Tribe to see if
they found anything. The god was looking for a body. A mobian body."

	"Miles!" Rouge made the connection instantly. "They were looking
for Miles!"

	"Given the appearance of a powerful Chaos Signature in the area
around that time... yes. I'd think so." Fiona gave Kabbal another quick
look. "He also told me that the god was obsessed with this. He works the
Tribe into the ground and threatens war with nearby mobians. He has had
Panthers executed for failure. Almost a hundred, from what I hear. This
behavior is why this Shaman believes they are under the rule of the
trickster god Mulciber. The robots, which he believes to be magically
animated suits of armor, are the god's personal guard."

	"How can that be?"

	"The Tails doll could have found a way to disguise itself as
this god of theirs. With the Tribe under his control, he has less need
for me, and hence the trap we walked into." Fiona sounded almost
insulted. "And he sounded so sincere, too..."

	"Never trust an AI," Rouge replied with a smirk.

	Fiona 'hmfed' and looked away. "Well, I've learned all I can
from this one. We'd best keep moving. If Omega and Sergeant von Elbe are
killed, the robots will return to guarding the temple."

	Rouge didn't like how casually Fiona spoke of others dying, but
ignored it for the moment. "Right now, there are only a few guarding the
temple. Do we force our way in?"

	"Yes. At this point..." Fiona started to say, but was cut off by
the immobile panther. Fiona's ears twitched as she listened to him.
After a few seconds, the android faced Rouge again.

	"He says he can get us in," Fiona explained.

	"Why would he do that?" Rouge asked, wary. "Wouldn't he be
risking the wrath of this god of theirs, whatever his name is?"

	"You forget, Dear Rouge... this god wasn't just after Miles. He
wants me, too. Hence all those patrols that chased us after we escaped.
If asked, he'll claim he was delivering me to his god. And if we kill
this creature masquerading as Ysbadadden then, obviously, he was no god,
and there was no fault in betraying him." Fiona nodded her head. "He is
quite smart, this panther Shaman. He even guessed that I was a 'vixen' -
a word not in the panther language."

	"But he's paralyzed," Rouge pointed out.

	Fiona shrugged. "I have a counteragent. He won't be running any
marathons, but he'll be on his feet. You're the leader here, Dear Rouge.
It is your decision to make."

	Rouge thought about it for a few seconds, before making up her
mind.

	"Do it. And tell him that if he turns on us... I'll shoot his
legs off." Rouge took out and brandished her plasma pistol.

	Fiona did as Rouge asked.

	And while she did, Rouge looked again at the temple. Her sixth
sense, her 'treasure sense' was still tingling, literally. It had never
failed her in the past when it came to tracking down valuables,
especially gemstones. But... this time... there was something a little
different to it. There was some apprehension, yes, but that wasn't it.
Nor was it excitement or fear.

	A... hunger... maybe?

	"We'll find out soon enough," Rouge said to herself, and put her
gun away. 'Miles? Are you really alive? Are you really out there? I
never got to tell you, Miles...'

	Her hand touched her stomach. Mobian infants were small, and she
wouldn't begin to show for another month or two. For the time being, it
was still her secret. For the time being.

	'I never told you, or Tempest. What if the kitsune came for my
baby, like they eventually came for you? What if... you wanted them to?'

-----

	It was a well-known fact that cats hate water.

	Certainly, it led to a number of jokes by canine comedians about
felines in general. "How can you tell how often your feline girlfriend
bathes? Kiss her and see how many hairs end up in your teeth!" "How many
cats does it take to turn on the shower? Just one, as long as there's a
canine forcing her into the spray!" Hershey, of course, kept herself
clean using water, like any other mobian, but she still didn't like
being wet. It made feline fur very sticky, and she had no idea why. More
than once, Drago had taken a shower with her, or bathed with her, and
he'd dried off an hour or less after leaving the water.

	Hershey had to wait half a day to dry off.

	So, when the Cat Country rainforest lived up to its name, she
inwardly cringed. Even with her combat vest tight to her body, she could
feel her fur getting soaked and matted. Leading her troops through the
jungle, she saw only one other feline - a tawny brown furred male. He,
too, looked unhappy with the sudden precipitation.

	'No wonder so many of us left this cursed water-logged place,'
Hershey thought, angrily. 'This backwater hellhole.'

	For a couple agonizing minutes, it simply rained harder and
harder, and then, suddenly, it was over. Little more than the occasional
big drop fell to the earth, which had been thoroughly soaked into mud
with the consistency of black pudding. Somewhere in the distance, a
chorus of croaks came from the large native jungle frogs.

	"Maybe they should call this Frog Country, huh?" One of the
troops joked.

	"Or Frog Forest!" Another added.

	"Hey, check it out! Shrooms!"

	Hershey looked around, and saw a few on one of the trees. They
grew, in seconds, from small brown buds into fist-sized mushrooms,
invigorated by the sudden downpour. They reminded her of the large
mushrooms native to some parts of Angel Island. Except for the
differences in coloration, there were very nearly identical. The echidna
were mushroom connoisseurs, and used them in a number of dishes. Knowing
this part of Mobius, however, the mushrooms were probably poisonous.

	Up ahead, she heard gunfire, and promptly forgot all about
everything else.

	Holding up her left hand, she motioned soldiers to her left and
right. Creeping low to the ground, they advanced, weapons ready.
Basecamp One was only a half mile or so ahead. Lieutenant Enders last
message had been that they were under heavy attack by warriors of the
Panther Tribe. Hopefully, the troops she had brought with her would help
to drive off the Panthers and relieve the Basecamp.

	Continuing through the jungle, Hershey heard more gunfire, but
it was only one or two shots. Not the sort of sustained fire she would
have expected. Closer and closer she came, and she started to see battle
damage done to the nearby foliage. She saw the occasional shallow crater
caused by a grenade, broken branches and trees with bullet holes in
them. She also saw bodies: Panther bodies.

	Finally breaking into the extreme edge of the clearing where
Basecamp One had been built, Hershey gasped. Next to her, she heard
another mobian growl. Ahead of them, where once Basecamp One had been...
there was fire. Two transports were in ruins, burning where they had
landed. Around the wreckage, Panthers moved, collecting and organizing
bodies, spearing or shooting the occasional wounded survivor. Some were
strung up and being bled, while others were being ritually skinned.

	Taking out her binoculars, Herhsey looked for any indication
that Mobian soldiers were being held captive. Scanning the camp's ruins
with growing rage and disgust, she confirmed that there were no
survivors. Not a single one. Lieutenant Ender's head, impaled on the
shaft of a spear, stared back at her with dead blood-drained eyes.

	"Bastards...!" A nearby soldier snarled. Murmurs of agreement
came from all around her. Hershey knew she probably should have headed
back the moment she learned that Basecamp One had already been lost.
Instead, she looked around, evaluated the area, and ordered men to her
far left and right.

	She then tore down several branches, and smeared herself with
mud. Lying down, she faced the burning Basecamp, and aimed her weapon.
It wasn't her trusty bolt action, but it would have to do. Setting the
weapon to single shot, she took careful aim through the telescoping
sight she had screwed into the handle. Her breathing slowed as she
concentrated, even as her heartbeat grew faster and louder. She took
careful aim, and fired.

	In the middle of the Baseamp, one of the Panther warriors with a
high headdress fell to the ground.

	Missing the upper half of his head.

	Hershey quickly moved onto her next target, and fired in between
breaths. Another Panther fell. She moved onto another one, also with a
high headdress. He was yelling something to the rest. Hershey pulled the
trigger, heard the loud 'crack' of her rfle firing, and saw him stumble
and fall. The other panthers started to run around, yelling and howling.
Some fired wildly in her general area.

	All their shots were far over her head.

	"Locate. Aim. Execute. Locate. Aim. Execute. Locate. Aim.
Execute. Locate. Aim. Execute..." Hershey said the words Drago had
taught her, years ago. Dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. She missed a shot, trying
to hit one of the Panther commanders who had decided to run for cover,
but the second shot took out his left leg. The third silenced him
forever.

	"You're a natural, babe! I've never seen anyone as good with a
rifle as you!" Drago's voice almost made her cry. They had been so
happy, just the two of them, before Drago had been seduced by promises
of power and wealth. They had been happy, just by themselves, living off
their skills and their wits.

	"Hey, hotshot! You think you're good with a gun? I bet these two
pistols here that my girlfriend can shoot better than you!"

	Crack! Dead.

	"Oh Drago! He doesn't mean it! I'm not that good!"

	Crack! Dead.

	"You've got a deal, buddy! If I can't outshoot your little lady
there, then I don't deserve to even hold this rifle!"

	Eject the empty cartridge.

	"The target will be... how about the leftmost leaf of that tree,
there?"

	Reload a new one.

	"Ha! No problem!"

	Crack! Dead.

	A leaf shot off.

	Crack! Dead.

	A can shot through the center.

	Crack! Dead.

	An ace of diamonds, held by Drago himself.

	Crack! Dead!

	A deer, their dinner, that night in the woods when...

	When...

	"Drago," she had said, softly in his ear. "Drago? I... I love
you Drago..."

	"I love you too, Hersh."

	"We'll be together forever, won't we, Drago?"

	"Forever, baby! Forever!"

	"Damn you... Drago..." Hershey blinked, tears in her eyes. She
fired again, and another Panther died. And again. And again. Bullets
roared overhead. They knew where she was, but couldn't do a whole lot
about it; she was too low to the ground. They had finally organized into
a charge. As they got closer, fire from the concealed soldiers Hershey
had brought with her cut them to pieces.

	Then she heard a scream from her right.

	"Combots! COMBOTS!!" Someone yelled.

	Hershey knew what that meant.

	"Fall back!" She yelled, and rolled off to the side and out of
position. The Panthers were falling back to regroup, and with Combots
trying to flank them it was time to retreat. Once a fair distance from
where she had been shooting, Hershey got to her feet, and started to
run. She joined several others, and they ran back through the mushroom
forest. The force left at the Basecamp, she knew, couldn't have been all
of the one that had attacked it. There were more Panther warriors in the
jungle than anyone had suspected.

	It was time to leave.

	Rouge be damned, it was time to take whoever was alive, and head
home!

-----

	The three slowly made their way up the long flight of steps.

	Rouge had her hand ready to draw her gun at any second, while
Fiona, wrapped tightly in rags to hide her identify, helped their
'escort' walk. The temple exterior was divided into tiers, of which
there were four. The lowest tier was the temple base, which rose only
about a meter off the ground. The second tier had most of the strange
inscriptions on it, and steeply rose another three meters. Between the
second and third tiers, was the largest rise, well over thirty meters.
This was where most of the remaining robot guard were stationed, as it
led right up to the 'Reliquary.'

	There was a tier above that as well, with two flights of steps
to the left and right of the Reliquary entrance, but Rouge didn't know
if they were used for anything. There was an alter at the top, but no
one seemed to use it. At least not recently. The temple building was far
larger at the base than it was in height, making it very different from
the Sandopolis ruins on Angel Island which Rouge was more familiar with.

	Some had claimed that those ruins were haunted, but Rouge had
never seen any ghosts on her trips there. She dearly hoped, in this
little excursion, she didn't run into any 'gods' either. Unlike her
android companion, Rouge was not so keen to dismiss the supernatural.
Miles had demonstrated strange and incredible powers - who was to say he
was unique in that respect? Though she had never seen him, she knew the
creature known as Ixis Nagus had also wielded bizarre powers.

	The Combot guards, on seeing them with Kabbal, let them pass.

	She couldn't understand the words, but she assumed the Shaman
had passed them off as concubines to this creature calling itself a god.
Up the last of the steep steps, they came to the entrance to the
Reliquary. Once inside, Kabbal stood off to the side, unwilling to go
any further. It was dark inside, lit only by braziers on the hard stone
floor. It looked recently cleaned, and orchids and flowers were piled
against the walls. Still, it was obvious that this was only an attempt
to cover up less savory odors.

	The temple walls were a sort of etched marble, with strange
ideograms and pictures near the ceiling. It was larger than she would
have expected, with a ceiling high enough to allow even an overlander
enough headroom. Stairs descended deeper into the body of the temple
ziggurat, and in the flickering light of the pitch fires, the
inscriptions seemed to move and glow with a hellish luminosity.

	And that feeling from before... that strange hunger.

	Grew stronger the further down she went.

	Rouge took out her gun, and felt some comfort in the feel of the
plasma pistol in her hand. She checked the side and made sure it was
powered up to the highest level. She would only have a few shots before
the battery depleted when the gun was 'running hot,' but at such close
quarters, she was sure she wouldn't miss. She also felt better knowing
that Fiona had some tricks up her sleeve as well.

	The steps ended and opened up into a larger room, long enough to
be a hall. The ceiling here was very high, making the hall seem narrow
in comparison. Faces adorned the highest reaches of the walls, and in
the half-light they seemed to look down mockingly at those below. Many
had eyes that twinkled with precious gemstones, giving the glaring,
laughing, hateful faces a crazed look.

	Nearing the end of the hall, Rouge heard whimpering.

	There, in the smaller room just after the hall, she saw an
echidna in ripped red clothes. She was holding her left wrist, which had
obviously been broken by the way it hung at an unnatural angle. There
was also a large welt across right collar. She cringed at the sight of
others, before realizing that neither of them was a Panther guard or
Combot soldier.

	"An echidna?" Fiona asked, honestly surprised. "What...?"

	"I am Ere-La, of...Albion..." The mobian in question answered.

	Fiona stared down at her with a familiar look. Rouge recognized
it - the android was trying to see if it felt sympathy. By the casual
look on her face, Rouge doubted the Fiona Doll would ever truly be
capable of it.

	"You... you must be the vixen He wanted..." The echidna said,
and winced at the pain in her wrist. "You shouldn't have come. Your
friend... it is too late for her."

	"Private Grant?" Rouge asked.

	"It is too late... for any of us now. You never should have
come." Ere-La closed her eyes, and curled into a ball on the floor.
"Never..."

	"Hang on, ok?" Rouge knelt down next to the girl, and tried to
comfort her. "Just hang on a little while. After we're done here, we'll
take you home."

	"Home?" Ere-La looked up at Rouge with a stunned expression.
"They... they would not want me... I have been... been..."

	Rouge could imagine. She held up a finger, and 'sssh'd her.
"Just try not to move. We'll be back soon."

	Ere-La blinked a few times, and shook her head. She curled back
into a ball, muttering incomprehensibly. Hesitantly, Rouge stood back
up, and motioned for Fiona to follow her deeper into the heart of the
temple. Further on, they came to an archway that may once have had a
door, by the small grooves cut into the ground. There was nothing now,
except an inscription above the arch itself.

	"Second Among the Great Host, Ysbadadden the Watcher, Ysbadadden
the Lord of Eyes, Ysbadadden the God of Panthers; Any may enter his
sanctum, Only his servants may leave it."

	"Thank you, Fiona."

	"It was my pleasure, dear Rouge."

	"Let's just get this over with." The she-bat advanced slowly
through the archway, and into a small antechamber. Around and to the
left, they went, when a deep laughter made them pause. A second later,
something broke with a loud 'snap,' before falling to the floor with a
soft 'thump.'

	"DON'T BE SHY!" A slow deep voice came from around a corner.
"AFTER ALL, I AM BUT A MERE MORTAL IN THE GUISE OF A GOD! SURELY THERE
IS NO RATIONALE FOR FEAR?"

	Fiona and Rouge exchanged looks, and continued forward with
more than a little visible hesitation. Around another corner they saw
something large and black move in the poor lighting of the temple, and
then it was gone, back amid the shadows. Even before they saw the room
in full, they smelt it.

	The smell of a slaughterhouse.

	"LAST NIGHT I WAS NOT OF A KIND MOOD, IT SEEMS." The voice
resounded off the walls, echoing. "CAN A GOD HAVE NIGHTMARES? IT SEEMS
ONE CAN, AND DOES."

	The main chamber was a mess - bodies were strewn about, slumped
against blood stained walls, and lying limp on the floor. It smelt of
death and incense, so strong Rouge gagged, covering her mouth with the
back of her hand. Advancing through the room, careful to avoid the pools
of blood, the two saw the beaded curtain to the room's antechamber move.
Leveling her weapon, Rouge sneered at the thought of the carnage that
surrounded her.

	"Come out!" Rouge yelled. "Show yourself, you coward!"

	More laughter behind the beads.

	"Come out. Or are you only good at killing defenseless females?"
Rouge baited.

	"YOU WILL JOIN THEM SOON ENOUGH," the voice responded, and a
huge black hand parted the bead curtain. It was followed by a massively
muscled arm with very faint stripes, a huge black furred body, and a
head with a gaping maw of shark-like teeth. Three eyes glowed a blood
red, and light from behind the monster's head indicated two more there.
Ears curved back and upward, like horns, and a thrashing tail with the
head of an eyeless snake only accentuated the unnatural horror that had
emerged from the antechamber.

	"What... the hell...?" Rouge took several frightened steps back
from the monster. Next to her Fiona had a look of puzzlement, as if
trying to find some rationale for the existence of the thing before
them. Worse, vying for room on Rouge's mind with her shock, disgust and
horror, she felt that sense of hunger rising to a fever pitch. It was
like a compass, and this being before them was its north pole.

	"I HAVE NO NEED FOR YOU, SHE BAT." The monster took a thunderous
step towards them. "ONLY YOUR VIXEN FRIEND."

	Fiona's eyes flashed green. "You... you're no god."

	Ysbadadden snarled. "NO?"

	"You're just meat. Just another organic." Fiona raised her hands
and flexed her claws. Rogue didn't need to hear another word. Her index
finger tensed, and the plasma pistol in her hands fired. At full power,
there was a short delay between trigger and release, but when it did, a
bolt of bright green plasma shot out at over a kilometer a second.

	Ysbadadden didn't even try to dodge.

	The bolt hit him square in the chest, blowing a bloody hole in
his body. Fur and skin and flesh burned and sheared away, but the God of
Panthers hardly seemed to feel the wound. His grin widened, putting his
maw of teeth on full display. There was another thunderous step, and
then another, as he closed the distance. One of the corpses underfoot
was simply crushed.

	"How...?" Rouge heard Fiona gasp.

	"Damn it! DIE!" Rouge pulled the trigger again, and another
supercharged bolt of ionized gas hit Ysbadadden, exactly where the first
had landed. There was another spray of gore as the plasma burned and
ripped into the creature's insides. Still, it kept coming. Rouge fired a
third time, hitting the same spot yet again. This time, Ysbadadden did
pause, as the blast shot a stream of green and red out the back of his
body. For a second, it looked like he had died on his feet.

	Then, he started to laugh again.

	And charged, faster than before. Rouge managed one last shot,
hitting the God of Panthers in the face. Then, she had barely enough
time to move, as a giant clawed hand slammed into the ground. Rouge
scrambled, as another swipe barely missed her head. He was facing her,
and she could see that part of his face had been burned to the bone.
Still, he came. Still, he laughed.

	Rouge dodged another swipe, and kicked up and into the
creature's jaw with every ounce of strength in her body. Ysbadadden
hissed as the blow removed two massive teeth. Rouge wasn't finished
there, however, and added two more parting kicks before jumping back and
away. She nearly made it to the floor, her course aided by her wings,
when the underside of Ysbadadden's left hand managed to catch her. She
spun from the glancing blow, hitting the ground and skidding along a
puddle of blood and other fluids.

	"DO YOU THINK THIS COULD KILL ME?" Ysbadadden snorted. "HARDLY!"

	Rogue barely saw Fiona, jumping, heading towards the God's back.

	"AND YOU, LITTLE VIXEN...!" Ysbadadden whirled, catching Fiona
in his right hand. "DID YOU THINK YOU COULD SNEAK UP ON ME?"

	'Eyes in the back of his head,' Rouge thought, miserably. 'What
the hell is this thing?'

	"FINALLY! I HAVE YOU! WHEN YOUR SECRETS ARE MINE, I SHALL TRACK
DOWN THE ONE MY MASTER SEEKS, AND BE REWARDED!"

	"m... Master?" Fiona asked, hands on the creature's oversized
wrist.

	"I KNOW HIM ONLY AS MOGUL. HE HAS PROMISED TO BRING BACK TO LIFE
ONE WHO WAS KILLED. WHEN THAT IS SO, AND THIS CURSED PANTHER TRIBE LIES
IN RUINS... ALL WILL BE WELL ONCE MORE!"

	"Mogul?" Fiona's eyes twinkled. "And who did he have you
searching for out here?"

	"YOUR CREATOR. I CAN'T IMAGINE WHY, AS I SAW THE BOY'S BODY
LOWERED INTO THE GROUND. MAYBE THE BOY HAS A CLONE OR RELATIVE OF SOME
SORT RUNNING AROUND. IT HARDLY MATTERS. IF HE CAN BE FOUND, I WILL DO
SO!"

	"I see. You're just a tool, then. You're just Mogul's little
puppet god." Fiona smirked, and dug her claws into Ysbadadden's wrist.

	"AND JUST WHAT WAS... was..." the God of Panther's voice
wavered, and his grip weakened. Fiona wriggled out of his grasp, and
with surprising speed and grace ran along his arm and jumped at his
face. Slashing him with both hands, she flipped over his shoulder and
jabbed her claws into his back as she fell, so fast her hands were a
blur. She landed behind him on both feet, and looked over her shoulder
at Rouge, as if to see what condition she was in.

	Fiona seemed about to say something, when she gagged. Rouge had
blinked, and in that millisecond had missed what had happened.
Ysbadadden's tail, replete with jagged jaws of its own, had clamped onto
Fiona's neck. Amazingly, it lifted the Doll off her feet, and slammed
her to the ground before tossing her against a wall.

	Slowly, Ysbadadden turned.

	His right hand was a bloody mess, with skin and flesh slouching
off bones. His face, too, seemed to be festering and melting away from
Fiona's poisons. And yet, he lived. Balling his fists, Ysbadadden let
out a roar that chilled Rouge to the bone. She felt a pulsing power from
within the so-called god, and in that moment, realized what it was: A
Chaos Emerald.

	Ysbadadden started to laugh, louder and louder, as his body
knitted back together, fighting injury and poison. Two of his eyes re-
grew, their pupils dilating in her direction, while the others watched
Fiona. Teeth slowly emerged from his jaws, to fill the gaps she had made
when she kicked him. In seconds, it was over, and he was restored.

	It was as if they hadn't done anything at all.

	"IT SEEMS I WILL SOON BE NEEDING A NEW HAREM." He reached for
Rouge. "ANY VOLUNTEERS?"

	"n.n.no. No! Stay away!" Rouge fired at the hand, and a plasma
blast ripped off two of the god's fingers. Rolling out of the way, Rouge
backed up against the wall and away from the hulking God of Panthers.
Then, suddenly, the wall wasn't there anymore, and she fell through the
beaded curtain Ysbadadden had emerged from. Looking up at the ceiling,
she saw a body pinned half to the walls behind her.

	"P... private Grant?" Rouge blinked, and saw that even though
the female's eyes were open, and her chest rising with the occasional
breath, she may as well have been dead. The wounds on her body, the look
on her face.... She had been broken. In every conceivable way, she had
been broken. The sight of the dingo woman in such a state, combined with
the sick laughter from the main room, was the nail in the coffin, and
Rouge screamed.

	Dropping her pistol, she simply screamed and ran, deeper into
the blood drenched temple. Even this far back, there were bodies. Broken
and mutilated  bodies, and blood splattered words and hand prints on the
walls. And behind her, the thunderous steps of Ysbadadden hunting her
down drove her to new heights of terror. Before she knew it, she was
pushing her way past another beaded curtain, and into the last room in
the temple.

	Immediately, she tripped on something and fell on her face.
Groaning, she looked up, and saw what seemed to be a small shrine, and
next to it the unmoving body of a Tails Doll. The eyes were dim, and the
head slumped. The tendrils that normally came form the Doll's shoulders
were also lifeless, and there seemed to be some sort of cancerous
plantlike growth on the side of its head. Disturbed, she reached for
what had tripped her, as she got to her feet, searching the room for
some hidden exit. To her surprise, what had caught her feet and caused
her to fall was...

	A fishing rod?

	Desperate now, she checked the shrine. Lots of temples had
hidden switches that opened concealed doors, and what better place than
a shrine for one of those? The alter itself was a small thing, with the
ruins of what looked like a small statue swept into the back. Replacing
it was the decaying body of some small animal. There was no fur, so it
probably wasn't any sort of mammal, though there was so little left of
the charred little body that it was tough to tell. Narrowing her eyes in
the poor lighting, she did make out the general body shape fairly well,
though.

	"A... frog...?" Rouge heard a loud thud from behind, and turned
just in time to see a hand reach through the curtain, and grab her leg.
She fell onto her back with a scream, before being dragged out of the
small room. Though the beads, she saw Ysbadadden towering over her,
Fiona in one hand, her leg in the other.

	"ENOUGH RUNNING."

	With immense strength, the giant easily picked her up by her
leg. Rouge could feel the power of the Emerald in Ysbadadden's body,
filling him with energy. Filling him with hate. He was no god - he was a
demon. A demon some twisted mind had created.

	"TIME... TO DIE."



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