VIII. Post-Slaughter

The hospital room was silent except for the steady beeping of the machines monitoring Sonic. He lay still and quiet, as he had been for the past three days. His left side was a mess of burns, mostly covered for the moment by bandages. His arm was little more than a charred stump. An IV had been inserted into his other arm.

Princess Sally sat in a chair beside the bed, staring at a magazine without reading it. Tails was on the other side, having fallen asleep with his head on Sonic's bed. She was glad the little fox had finally drifted off. It had been hard for him the past few days, and he'd refused to sleep until Sonic awoke.

Sally herself had only managed to catch a few quick naps here and there. Ever since the mysterious strangers had left Station Square, she'd been in constant contact with Mobotropolis, Knothole, and a variety of other cities, towns, and settlements. Speaking to community leaders, militia commanders, anyone and everyone of note she could get a hold of, warning them of the danger, and asking for any aid they could send.

Thankfully, the damage to the city itself had been minimal. Most all of the buildings were untouched, save the central complex, and even that wasn't too badly damaged. The death toll however, was appalling. The SSPD's ranks had been demolished in a single morning. All of their heavy vehicles and assault equipment ruined, their most highly trained officers buried.

Except for one.

Officer Juhty was the sole survivor of the entire SWAT force. The little armadillo had been found not far from the mutilated bodies of his fellow officers, unconscious and near death in a store across the street from the central business complex. He was still in critical condition, while Sonic was, at least for now, stable.

The hospital was letting her and Tails stay past visiting hours as a favor, so long as they did not disturb the other patients. She looked at Sonic and had to fight the urge to shake him, demand that he wake up and say something stupid. But he only lay there, far too still and pale.

"Bastards," Sally muttered and wiped at her eyes. In the hospital, the quiet and steady beeping continued.

"I want my main factory's production of attack and siege units increased by fifty percent! No, no, a hundred percent! We can't miss this opportunity, 53!" Eggman said as he disembarked from Egg Force One and into the main hangar of his main ground fortress, half a world away from Station Square.

"Of course, Master," No. 53 replied as he followed behind Eggman.

"Sonic's still out of commission, all the conventional forces of Station Square are history, and the whole city is just sitting there! Waiting for me to come and snatch it up!"

"Of course, Master."

"How long will it take to recover most of the forces the hedgehog and his friends destroyed last time?" Eggman asked as he stepped onto a hoverlift that carried him and No. 53 across the hangar and down a long, steel corridor.

"We will have 25% of our losses recovered in a month with the increased production times," No. 53 said.

"What?" Eggman shouted. "A month? That blasted Princess Sally will have gotten some kind of defense force mobilized by then, and the hedgehog will no doubt be back on his feet. They'll have restructured some of their police force as well, no doubt. That's all the main factory can do?"

"The main factory south of Knothole was the first target attacked by the Freedom Fighters, Master. It suffered heavy damage and the loss of over 70% of its production capabilities. The smaller factories around Mobotropolis were completely destroyed, and all facilities within the air fleet were ruined in Sonic's final attack."

Eggman growled and smashed a metal fist into the hoverlift's console, making the platform swerve for an instant. "What's our current operating capacity? Every remaining factory, fully functional or not."

"15%."

"Damn that hedgehog! Damn him, damn him, and that fox, and the princess, and…and…" Eggman bellowed and nearly kicked No. 53 off the lift.

"Shall we continue with the increased production of attack units?" the robot asked.

"No. We need to focus on repairs. And we're too spread out. Ignore the remaining factories around Knothole, Mobotropolis, and Station Square. We'll consolidate my resources here," Eggman said. The facility they were currently in was where Eggman had designed, and constructed, the flagship of his previous air fleet. It was enormous, and still outfitted with most of his latest tech. And since Sonic had only been concerned with destroying his flagship, rather than where it had come from, it was all still intact.

"Recall every single construction drone and builder 'bot from every factory that still has working transports. I want them here immediately. Have the drones stationed here begin work on expanding immediately," Eggman said and No. 53 began relaying communications to the facility's central computer core so it could then distribute them to the local drones, and begin transmissions to the further factories.

"I doubt those machine-men are done terrorizing the city. We'll grow strong, and wait. The hedgehog is already weakened, the citizens of Station Square are terrified. When the machine-men attack again, we'll take advantage of it, and make a strike of our own," Eggman muttered.

"And if the machine-men decide to attack us as well, Master?" No. 53 asked.

"We'll just have to try and make friends, first," Eggman said, and began to laugh as they flew past dozens of drones already beginning construction of the new main factory.

"Welcome back, Officer Juhty," a short, fat man said beside Juhty's bed. The officer blinked his eyes through a haze of painkillers and looked at the speaker. It was Mayor Huffering. Standing beside him was possibly the most beautiful creature he had seen: a thin, elegant cat-like Mobian with horn-rimmed glasses and snowy white fur.

"We were rather worried about you," the Mayor continued. Juhty reluctantly tore his gaze away from the vision at the Mayor's side and to Captain Orun, Head of the SSPD, standing on the other side of the bed. Orun had rough, canine features and a sizable underbite bristling with short, thick teeth. Two sharp, scarred ears poked out beneath his hat.

"Juhty," Orun said in a gruff voice. He looked like he hadn't slept in years.

"The others," Juhty croaked, and the Captain shook his head. "Dammit."

The silence stretched in the room until the beautiful Mobian beside the mayor said, "Officer, my name is Ms. Links, Mayor Huffering's aide. I know you've been through something horrible, but if there's anything you could tell us, it may save others."

Juhty nodded and replied, "I don't remember much. Just that it sounded like they were after one or more of the Chaos Emeralds. And while it isn't anything they said, I can tell you they definitely aren't with Eggman."

"What makes you say that?" Orun asked.

"I've fought Eggman's forces more than once. They're all machine. Dumb, pre-programmed puppets that wander about and occasionally fire a laser or something. These machine men were soldiers. The one I tried to get, he acted almost mad with bloodlust. Machines don't do that. And the way they all talked to that mecha, I think there might be some kind of pilot inside. And the one with all the arms on his back in the creepy robes, I think I heard one of them refer to him as 'Priest,'" Juhty finished.

"Priest huh?" Ms. Links muttered to herself and jotted something down.

"That's good to know Juhty, thank you," Orun said and patted Juhty gently on the shoulder that wasn't broken. "Rest now Officer, you've earned it."

The three left, leaving Juhty alone to wonder why he alone had survived out of all his fellow officers. Sleep was a long time coming, and when it did arrive, Juhty still didn't have any answers.

It had been over 36 hours since the attack on Station Square when Iruel cut down a final palm tree and emerged with the rest of his squad into a clearing. Though calling it a clearing was an understatement, as an area encompassing a few square miles had been clearcut, with all plant life either burned away or paved over.

Iruel and the others had followed Rolos's direction, going off the maps he had acquired from the heretical datacore. He had led them away from the main roads once they had left the city, and far away from their original base of operations. They had gone north and east of Station Square, through miles of jungle without stopping to sleep, and eating whatever they could grab along the way.

In the midst of the clearcut area was some sort of small factory. Five small domed buildings surrounded a much larger sixth structure, that vaguely resembled a pyramid with a flat top instead of a pointed one. Smoke stacks sprang from the top of the central building, though nothing issued from them. The whole of the factory was dark, and looked a mess. There were craters in the pavement, chunks of walls missing, broken pipes and cut wires. Everywhere there was the wreckage of what had obviously been some kind of robots, and there were even pillboxes along the perimeter of the factory that had been blown open or otherwise ruined.

The whole of the complex was surrounded by a very high concrete wall topped with vicious looking razor wire. There were large chunks of the wall missing, blown open by some unknown explosive, or looking as if they had been knocked down by a small battering ram. Iruel used his bionic eye and zoomed in on the distant factory, and saw several men and xenos armed with rifles walking along the perimeter. There were a pair of large trucks filled with the scraps of the ruined robotics.

"Ye-eh-eh-esss," Rolos said. "This will be-ee-eeee sufficient once I have con-on-on-verrrrrted it into an adequate shrine to the Machine-een-een God."

"I was hoping there would be some worthier opponents to fight," Zerachiel said and sighed.

"No matter, it only means we will dispatch them that more quickly and have a proper base of operations," Iruel said and readied his chainsword as he prepared to leave the cover of the treeline and charge the unsuspecting Mobians.

"No! I neeeee-eed-eed them," Rolos said. "I am only one pree-ee-eist. Those men down there will become my servitor-or-orrrrs. The xe-eee-nnnnos are of no use to me ho-ow-ow-ever."

Dumah grunted his understanding while Zerachiel nodded sadly. Toramech took a step back, lowering his powerclaw and lascannon. He wasn't built for non-lethal takedowns.

"Very well. Zerachiel, purge those xenos from this planet. Dumah, you and I will subdue the human guards for the priest."

"Yes Sergeant," Zerachiel said, though somewhat heavily and trudged away, sticking to the trees until he would be in a better position to strike. Iruel looked after him and scowled.

"Brother Zerachiel seems troubled," he said. Toramech rotated towards him and briefly raised, then lowered his lascannon in what might have been his version of a nod.

"He has expressed his disappointment at the weakness of our foes. I suspect he thinks it is unbefitting a marine to slaughter such powerless enemies," the dreadnought said.

"Befitting or not, it is a marine's duty to obey the will of the emperor. This planet is full of things that are offensive in His Sight."

"I do not disagree. But Zerachiel is still young. He is still testing the limits of his new strength, and cannot do so against opponents such as these."

"I suppose," Iruel said, then looked over at Rolos. "Priest, remain here while Dumah and I subdue and restrain the humans. Toramech shall remain by your side."

"Th-ang-ang-k you, Sergeant," Rolos replied. Without further discussion, Iruel and Dumah took off at a crouching run. The guards, Mobian and man alike, were clearly not expecting anything. They weren't so much patrolling as milling about the general area. One of them was even talking on some kind of portable speaking device. He was the closest, so Iruel came up behind him and delivered a soft thump to the back of his head with two fingers.

The man fell over, unconscious and likely with a significant concussion but still alive. Dumah had gone on ahead to the next man, but wasn't quite so fortune with sneaking up on him. The man turned and saw the huge marine barreling down upon him and screamed. He got off several shots which went wide from his panic, and then Dumah ripped the rifle from him, threw it aside, and then popped him one on the side of his temple.

The short burst of rifle fire alerted the other guards. Iruel heard a high-pitched animal scream which was quickly cut off as Zerachiel made short work of the xenos. The remaining humans quickly began shouting to each other.

"It's the machine men from Station Square! Form up in factory hub B and take cover!" shouted one of the men, clearly the leader. The handful of men and Mobians ran for one of the small domed buildings, but not before Iruel and Dumah managed to knock another couple humans out and Zerachiel blew a few more of the xenos guards into clouds of red mist.

The guards managed to put up a hasty and rather pathetic line of defense behind some scrap metal and fallen I-beams that Dumah charged through and swatted aside like cardboard. Zerachiel and Iruel were right behind him; the former fell upon the xenos with his bare hands, pulping their heads with minimal effort, while the latter worked with Dumah to subdue the guards. It was over in a matter of seconds.

"Oops," Dumah said. Iruel glanced at him and saw that the marine veteran had gotten a little overzealous and accidentally punched on man's head clean off his shoulders.

"Be more mindful next time, Brother," Iruel chided and Dumah nodded solemnly. Zerachiel was standing off to one side, looking down at the body of one of the xenos creatures he had killed.

"Do not pity the xenos, Brother," Iruel said, noticing Zerachiel's somewhat downcast stance.

"No, no pity Sergeant. Only regret that they are not stronger. These are hardly foes worthy of the Astartes. The stories I heard in training…they were of the most incredible victories against the most terrible of foes. Impossible situations overcome only by the might of the Space Marines and the Will of the Emperor. The resistance we've met with here is, by comparison…disappointing."

"I agree. Even a Guardsman would have little trouble taking these pathetic creatures out. Alas, there are none here, and we must carry out the emperor's Will where we can, not when we choose," Iruel said, a slight edge creeping into his voice. Zerachiel stood up straighter and gave a curt nod.

"Of course Sergeant, you are right."

Iruel grunted as Rolos walked into the domed factory building with Toramech. The priest was carrying a pair of unconscious humans in his mechanical claws, and dragged another on the ground with his hand. The tech-priest focused his robotic red eyes on the unconscious human already inside and nodded.

"Yes, this-is-issshhh will do," Rolos said. "For now, anyway-ay-ay. It will taaaa-a-a-ake some t-t-t-iiiii-me to convert them to proper Serv-erv-errr-vitors, but it can be done. As soon as they are rrrrrrread-eeeee, I will set them to work making this an ap-ap-apprrrrr-opriate shrine to the Machine God."

"Excellent. I look forward to seeing your results, Priest. Dumah, go with Zerachiel and secure the perimeter of this factory. I will go and see if there is any form of administrative area, and maybe see if there is a weapons cache anywhere. Toramech, remain with Rolos while he works and guard him well."

So having received their orders, the Marines left Rolos to his work. The tech-priest clicked the ends of his mechanical limbs together in what might have been anticipation and leaned over the nearest unconscious human form. A heavy-duty circular saw whined to life and came in close to the man's head, cutting through the skin and bone of his skull. Blood and white chips flew and spattered on the expressionless metal mask covering Rolos's face.

"Rejoice, heretic, for soon, you will serve the Machine God," Rolos said, and began his operation.

Halfway across the planet Mobius, on a vast and beautiful island floating high above the waters of the ocean, Knuckles the Echidna stared at the bright red Chaos Emerald, floating within its shrine at the heart of Angel Island. People had been trying to take the Emerald for ages, through brute strength, stealth, or trickery, like that damned Eggman. Getting conned by that oaf was still one of Knuckles's greatest shames.

This was different though. Some other force that Knuckles had never even heard of was after the Emeralds, and they'd apparently almost killed Sonic, if all the rumors were to be believed. That alone put things at a whole other level.

But it wasn't just that. He'd sensed changes in the wind, in the air of Angel Island itself, and even in the Chaos Emerald. It was subtle, but something was different about it, something hypnotic, strange and…and perhaps a little menacing. Knuckles had always been protective of the emerald, always aware of his duty to guard it, but lately it had been more than that. He'd been spending a lot of time in the sanctuary, missing meals, sleeping less. When he did sleep, he was troubled by dreams as red as the Emerald itself.

But it was his Emerald, and he had a duty to safeguard it against whatever was trying to take it. He was loathe to leave it behind to go meet with Sally and Sonic, but he knew he had to. He reached out and touched the emerald's flawless surface, felt its curious warmth and the pulse like a heart coming from it.

As always, a single word sprouted into his mind when he touched the Emerald these days. It had started shortly before the attack on Station Square. He caressed it, and the name beat in his skull in a steady tempo. A name he did not know, but feared. But the more he heard it, the more he liked it, the more it made his blood roar, made him feel stronger, and made his red dreams more wonderful.

Knuckles whispered to himself in time with the name beating in his head as he held the Emerald.

"Khorne. Khorne. Khorne. Khorne…"