Psionic the Hedgehog - Part III

By Shariq Ansari aka DarkeSword

Comments? Email me at darkesword@exphyl.com

* * * * *

The south side of the volcano was nearly full vertical; a massive igneous slab 
smoothed out over thousands of years.  It was a grayish black color, the color 
of long cooled lava.  No lava had flowed out of this volcano for thousands of 
years.  How could it?  This island had been disconnected from the crust of the 
planet for millenia on end.

Knives the Echidna was thinking about this, and many other things, as he climbed 
the south side, thrusting his two specially carved climbing knives into the side 
of the dormant volcano.  Climbing helped Knives think.  He had been alone ever 
since his parents had died.

The entire Echidna civilization had mysteriously disappeared long ago, and his 
four grandparents had been the only surviving members of the noble species.  
Four teenagers with, inexplicably, no recollection of how the Echidnas had 
disappeared, only that something terrible had taken them from their families, 
their friends, their world.

What it must have been like to lose that, thought Knives.  I felt tremendous 
loss when Mother and Father died, but we lived alone our whole lives.  To be 
taken from your lives, from society.  To see your homes and cities completely 
empty.

A chill ran up Knives' spine, and he started to climb faster.  His knives were 
sliding into the igneous rock as if it were butter.  He had carved these knives 
himself from that strange gold metal that was all around the island.  His 
grandparents had found small gold-colored rings everywhere after the Echidnas 
disappeared, and they had found that when melted, they made an excellent 
material that could be used for mostly anything.

Knives reached the top of the volcano and stood on the edge.  He could see the 
entire north side of the island from here.  He sighed.  I never get enough of 
this view, he thought.  He walked to the inner edge of the volcano and peered 
in.  There was a whirlpool raging inside.  Knives often came up hear to listen 
to the roar of the water, to feel its power.  He sat back on the top of the 
dormant volcano and relaxed.

But after a while, Knives began to hear a faint whirring sound in the 
distance...the high pitched whine of an engine.  He looked up and saw, in the 
distance, a strange kind of mechanical bird-thing.  It was descending much too 
quickly; he could tell that even from here.  He stood up and looked out.  What 
is that? he thought.

The whirring was much louder now, and he could see smoke coming from the tail.  
The bird was basically falling at this point, and then, with a distant thump, it 
went down in the trees.

Knives eyes widened.  "I'd better check this out," he said.  He put his knives 
in their sheathes, jumped from the top of the volcano, and began to glide 
towards the crash site.

* * * * *

Psionic woke with a start and felt a peculiar falling sensation.  Only when he 
hit the ground did he realize that he had been falling.  He lay on the ground 
for a moment, trying to think of something appropriate to say.

"Ouch."

He stood up, rubbing his bottom, and looked around to see where he was.  He 
seemed to be in a clearing in a forest.  There were trees everywhere, and he 
could hear a waterfall in the distance.  The ground was covered with all kinds 
of flowers, and everywhere he looked, he saw green.

Psionic looked himself over, making sure nothing was broken.  Luckily, only his 
cloak was torn.  He ran his hand through his spines and sighed as he checked his 
pouches, making sure nothing was gone or broken.  Everything's alright, he 
thought.

But there was still a nagging feeling in the back of his mind, as though 
something or someone was missing.  He looked up and squinted; the sun was 
bright.  Sheilding his eyes, he gasped.

The Tornado II was stuck in a very high tree--or rather, it had become a part of 
the tree.  The entire plane was mangled nearly beyond recognition.  Psionic's 
eyes widened, and a single thought worked its way from his mind to his lips.

"TALES!"

He rocketed upwards, using his psychic ability to accentuate the strength of his 
jump.  He kicked off of a few trees and continued to work his way towards the 
wreck.  He already knew she wasn't there; he hadn't been able to sense her 
presence, but he had to make sure.  He wanted to see with his eyes.

Once he reached the wreak, a quick feeling of relief passed through him.  He 
couldn't see any blood anywhere.  Floating there in the air, he peered into the 
cockpit and saw something on the floor.  He reached in and picked it up.  They 
were Tales' glasses.  The lenses were broken, and the frames were bent.

Psionic began to descend slowly, holding the glasses.  His eyes lit up and began 
to glow a deep purple.  He was using the psychic-chaos field to see if he could 
locate Tales.  He found something very faint; she was alive, but she wasn't 
concious, so he couldn't tell if she was hurt.  

He also felt the presence of someone else with her.  There was a feeling of 
tranquility mixed with concern within this person.  Psionic wasn't worried for 
Tales.  He could feel that she was in good hands.  Now he just had to find her.

He touched down on the ground and put the broken glasses in a pocket in his 
cloak.  Tales' presence was in the same direction as the noise from the 
waterfall, so Psionic started to walk towards the sound of the rushing water.  
He was at the edge of the clearing when a frightening realization overtook him.

Looking back at the wreakage in the tree, he tried not to think about what Espio 
would do to him.