Aaron drew his rod back.  With a smooth flick of his wrist, he cast his line out into the ocean.  He took a long pull from his water bottle before leaning back in the boat to wait.  This was his third cast, and he had already caught a fish on each previous one.

Diane, however, had no such patience or luck.  It was her ninth cast, and she hadn’t had so much as a nibble.  She sighed and leaned back, resting against Aaron’s leg.  There wasn’t much room in the small fishing boat, even for a bunny like Diane.

“Enjoying your leave so far?”  Aaron’s question broke the calm.

Diane sat up and looked at Aaron through half-lidded eyes, which was answer enough.

Aaron cracked a grin.  “Well hey, you said you wanted to see what fishing was like.  Exciting sport, eh?”

Diane rolled her eyes.  “I’ll never understand why ya like fishing so much… but since we started with one of the things ya wanted to do, tomorrow we’re gonna do something I want, ‘kay?”

“Does it involve cheap liquor and a motel room?”  Aaron started laughing as Diane tried to smack him.

“Pervert,” Diane muttered, but not without a grin on her face.  She turned back around and closed her eyes, letting the gentle rocking of the boat lull her into a lazy summer nap.

Aaron, too, leaned back, but gazed upwards instead.  He looked at the large landmass floating in the sky a few kilometers to the east.  The Floating Island.

Aaron smirked.  He'd always been a bit of a skeptic, and it wasn't until he was 15 and saw it for himself that he acknowledged its existence.  He still wasn't sure exactly how it stayed in the air like that--he'd read a few articles talking about a "Master Emerald" that was supposed to have a sort of potent energy that kept the island aloft.  Of course, nobody had been able to get close enough to where the Master Emerald was located to know for sure; the Guardian of the Island, an anthro echidna named Knuckles, always drove away intruders.  He sighed and closed his eyes.  Floating Island or not, if that Master Emerald were to be destroyed, everyone around here would be in a world of shit.  He smirked; the thought of the Island just falling out of the sky reminded him of the story of Chicken Little.  The sky is falling!  His smirk tured into a grin.

He felt the afternoon sun’s rays beat on his eyelids and enjoyed the relaxing heat.  Out here, he could almost forget about his duties… hell, he could do this every day for the next two weeks of his leave.  But Diane would probably want to do something completely different, like visit some boring antique store.  Probably?  Aaron smirked at the thought.  She certainly would not want to go fishing again.  He could already tell she hated it.  Too bad.

“Aaron?”  Diane’s voice broke the stillness this time.  He didn’t catch her tone of unease, and didn’t even bother opening his eyes to look at her.

“Mmm.”

“Get up, Aaron… there’s something wrong.”  The worry in her voice was unmistakable this time.

Aaron sighed and opened one eye.  His lips parted, no doubt ready to make a comment about Diane’s paranoia, when something bumped the bottom of their boat.  Aaron sat up, peering around the small fishing craft carefully.  He began to feel uneasy as well.  “What is it?”  His hand slowly reached behind his back for the loaded USP-45 he always carried.  Their engine—a super-quiet, low-power motor designed to keep the fish unaware of their presence—wasn’t powerful enough to run from whatever might threaten them, and he wasn’t sure if his bullets would have enough penetrating power once they hit the water to kill it, but he’d be damned if he just sat by without doing anything.

Diane seemed even more agitated now.  “I don’t know, Aaron, but I think we better get out o—shit!”  Diane flailed wildly for a handhold as the boat rocked, more violently this time.

Aaron realized there was no use in sitting still.  He turned the engine on and opened the throttle.  He gritted his teeth as the boat quickly reached full power at a mere 7 knots.  He had his gun drawn now, but it was still safed.  His eyes scanned the water in all directions as he steered the boat back to shore.

His grip on the rudder tightened in frustration.  Under the circumstances, the boat seemed to be going painfully slow, and he cursed it.  His eyes continued to flick back and forth until something caught his eye—there!  A slightly off-color patch on the water that seemed almost oily-looking.  Was it just a leak from some other boat’s damaged engine?

Aaron’s eyes widened as he continued to observe.  The ‘oil patch’ was matching speed with his boat, going against the tide and current!  As he watched, it got closer and disappeared underneath.  Sweat beaded on Aaron’s forehead.

The boat was struck again, rocking so violently it almost capsized.  Aaron shouted and fought to maintain his balance.  Diane was thrown nearly halfway out the boat, but managed to drag herself back in.  “What’s going on?”

Aaron’s only answer was a hissing exhale through gritted teeth.  He undid the safety on his gun and chambered a round.  One hand on the rudder, one on his gun, both eyes on the water, he continued to make his way towards shore.

There!  He swung his gun around as he steered the boat hard to port.  He squeezed the trigger twice, sending bullets ripping through the air and into the middle of the oily patch.

The thing seemed unaffected, but it finally reacted.  Before the disbelieving eyes of Aaron and Diane—both combat veterans who figured they had seen it all—the patch grew and took a humanoid form.

The thing had eyes.  Angry, glowing eyes with no pupils that pierced Aaron with their gaze.  It was formed of water and had no organs to speak of besides the eyes and a bluish-grey thing behind those eyes that resembled a brain.

Aaron brushed aside his shock and raised his gun.  It wasn’t his job to consider the mystery of this creature’s existence; it was a threat that had to be eliminated.  He thrust the rudder hard to starboard, heading directly at the water creature.  He breathed out slowly, aiming for the organ he assumed was the brain, and squeezed the trigger twice more.

The two .45-caliber rounds exploded through the air.  The aim of the first one was off, but the second was true.  It shredded through the creature's brain.  There was no sound from the creature, though it convulsed as if in pain before losing control and splashing back, formless as normal water, into the ocean.

Aaron sighed, and corrected his course for the coast once again.  He smirked, seeing how far they still were.  He decided he shouldn’t be surprised—after all, he had taken evasive maneuvers in the battle, and even on a straight course, it would take them at least fifteen minutes to get back to shore at 7 knots.

He felt the buck fever begin to leave his body as he looked at Diane with a grin on his face.  “Well, that was a bit of fun—what?”  Diane was looking over Aaron’s shoulder, a look of surprise on her face.  Before Aaron could turn and see what she was gawking at, Diane leapt at Aaron and tackled him to the floor of the boat.

Aaron winced as his head hit the hard plastic floor, but the pain went forgotten as he saw a watery, clawed hand swipe the air where he had just been.  He was too surprised to think anything beyond his first reaction: son of a bitch!

Another hand swiped downwards, raking across Diane’s back.  Diane yelped in pain and grabbed Aaron’s gun, bringing it up.  From his angle, he couldn’t see what was happening, but he heard three sharp barks from the pistol.  There was another splash, and Diane moved back to sit at her spot in the bow of the ship.

Aaron struggled a bit to get back into a sitting position.  “Did you get him?”

Diane nodded, reaching behind to feel the wounds on her back.  “Ouch.”  She winced.  “Yeah, I got him good this time.  I don’t think he’ll bother us again.”

“Thanks.  And good shooting,” he said, giving her a thumbs-up.  Regardless of her assurances, though, he looked around at the surface of the water carefully.  It had apparently survived once, why not twice?

It was then that he noticed the engine had died in all the excitement.  He reached over and turned the ignition switch.  Nothing.  Aaron cursed and smacked it.  “Flooded.”  He sighed and looked up to the sky.  “Can anything else go wrong today?”

For a moment, staring into the sky, his eyes refused to believe what they saw.  He blinked and squinted.  A growing sense of irony at the situation was quickly squashed and replaced by one of panic as he attacked the ignition switch like a madman, desperately trying to start the motor.

Aaron heard Diane ask what was wrong this time, but he didn’t even bother replying.  A slight whistle of rising wind was quickly growing to a howl, and Aaron could tell from the gasp behind him that she had finally seen it.

The Floating Island was falling from its home in the skies to the ocean.  It was still a few kilometers away, but that was still close enough for the tidal wave to really ruin their day.

Sweat dripped off his nose as he grabbed the pull-cord and attempted to manually start the engine.  He felt the time growing short, much too short, and this heightened his sense of panic as he yanked with all his strength.

After coughing and choking, the engine finally sputtered to life.  Feeling a small sense of victory, Aaron quickly turned around and began heading towards shore again.  The wind was strong enough now to make the calm bay fairly choppy, however, and again Aaron was struck with the ludicrously slow speed of his craft.  He looked behind and above—the Island was too close now, and he knew they wouldn’t make it to shore.  They wouldn’t even get close before the Island hit.

He turned and looked at Diane.  Time froze for an eternity as he remembered every detail—the fright and panic in her eyes, her hair whipping around from the gusting winds, her white-knuckled, fearful grip on the edge of the boat.

He imagined he must look very much the same to her, and closed his eyes.  “Shit.”

An instant before the Island hit the bay, Aaron leaped forward in the boat and tackled Diane overboard.  They had to get off the boat before the tidal wave hit.  There were just too many things that could harm them in it--the tackle box, the rods, the engine.

He kept his grip on her as their heads popped back above water.  In unison, they turned to see the approaching tidal wave, and their hold on each other tightened as they saw the onrushing wall of water.  Aaron and Diane looked at each other once more before holding their breath and closing their eyes.

An instant later, a force unlike any Aaron had felt caught the two and swept them up.  Aaron felt himself get sucked and swirled around in the chaotic, powerful currents of the tidal wave.  To his horror, he also felt his grip on Diane slipping.

He nearly lost his breath when he felt his body hit the soft silt of the ocean floor.  For a moment, the water was calm, and he tried to reorient himself.  However, he felt a new current ripping at Aaron and Diane, tearing them apart.

Aaron wanted to rend the dead silence of the water with an enraged scream as he felt Diane slip out of his grasp, helpless to do anything.  He was very nearly out of breath, though, and his own survival soon occupied his mind.  Spots began to swim in front of his eyes, and he found it hard to see.  A renewed bout of being tossed around at the mercy of the ocean further disoriented him.

Aaron felt the silt of the ocean bottom again, and felt that he could not hold his breath much longer.  The deep water pressed in all around him, causing his ears to ring and his vision to blur even more.  He could barely see anything at all anymore; the world seemed to be sinking into inky blackness.  It would be so easy to just slip away, he realized, rocked to sleep by the gentle ocean currents…

He shook his head violently and cleared away the thought.  He had to survive!  He had to get another breath and look for Diane!  He had to—

Another current ripped at him, spinning and dragging him along the ocean floor.  Helpless to do anything, Aaron’s head struck a rock.  His lungs finally released their hoarded supply of air as he floated into unconsciousness.

Cold.  Salt in the air.  Smells like dead fish and... vomit?  Aaron's thoughts came in short spurts.

Aaron shivered involuntarily as a cold breeze danced over his body, made even colder by the seawater that was still drying on his clothes and body.  A snippet of conversation came up from his memories unbidden.

How do you feel?

Like hammered shit, John.

He nearly smiled.

He slowly became more aware of himself and his surroundings:  a disgusting taste in his mouth.  The sun beating down on his body.  Wet grittiness on his face.  A steady lapping of waves that would splash onto him occasionally.

He opened an eye and, for a moment, he didn’t recognize where he was or how he got there.  He was on a beach, that was certain—but where?  He struggled to get to a sitting position.  So weak… what happened?  He looked at where his face had been, and realized that he had vomited quite a bit while he had been unconscious.  That explained the taste and burn in the back of his throat.

He tried to stand, but his legs wobbled too much.  Sighing in resignation, he sat down cross-legged and waited for his strength to return and the dizziness to leave his head.  As he looked around, still disoriented, he turned things over in his mind.  No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t quite figure out how or why he got here.

Wait.  He remembered this beach now; it was Ruby Coast, where he usually went to go fishing.  And that island over there was new, he realized.  He didn’t remember ever seeing—“Oh shit,” he breathed, recognizing it.  It was the Floating Island.  Had he been fishing when that thing came down?  That would explain his current condition.  And for that matter, where was…

“Diane!”  Aaron’s eyes widened.  “Oh, shit… Diane!”  Wincing and struggling, he got to his feet.  He was still unsteady, but he ignored his weakness as he half-shuffled, half-ran down the coast, looking for any sign of her.  After only 200 meters, his body gave up on him.  He collapsed to his hands and knees as pain wracked his body.  He retched again as his body purged the last of the seawater and brine.  Completely drained, Aaron rolled onto his back and covered his face with his hands.  “Oh shit… oh shit… Diane…”

Fatigue overcame him.  He awoke to see the sun dipping below the horizon and the tide coming in.  He sat up, shaking out the stiffness in his limbs.  The nausea was gone now, Aaron noted.  It took a small amount of effort to place one foot in front of the other in his exhausted state, but he forced himself to walk up the beach of Ruby Coast, eyes sweeping from side to side for any sign of Diane.

After only an hour, he had already reached the southernmost edge of the coast, and the sunlight was almost completely gone.  A breeze came in from the sea, chilling Aaron and making him shiver again.  He felt his jaw begin to tremble, and forced it to stop.  If he let his teeth chatter, it would only be a matter of time before he would be shivering uncontrollably, and there was no way he could function then.  He watched the sun disappear completely as a sense of hopelessness settled on him like a cloak soaked with foul water.

He finally turned and began the long walk up the trail leading to the parking lot.  Along the way he saw, in the distance, the tiny flashing lights of the emergency response teams taking care of the Sapphire Coast and Pleasant Prairie village area—after all, that was a populated area while this was not.  He turned away and concentrated on keeping his footing on the trail.  Well, they would get to Ruby Coast sometime tonight.  They had the time, equipment, and manpower for a real search—any further attempt by him would be futile—or worse.

When he got to his car, he opened the trunk out of habit before he realized that he had no fishing gear to put away.  On a thought, he reached behind him and checked his holster—empty.  He’d have to replace his USP, as it was his favorite handgun.  For now, though, he’d have to use his Beretta in its stead.

After closing the trunk with unnecessary force, he walked over to the driver’s side and fished in his pockets for his car keys.  Those were gone, too.  Cursing, he checked all his pockets to see if everything hadn’t washed out to sea.  Sure enough, everything was gone, save his wallet—which was only still in his pocket by virtue of a zipper in the lining.  Even so, the contents were ruined.

He reached underneath the fender and pulled out the magnetic key-case he always secreted in case of emergencies.  He extracted the two keys within—car and apartment—and got into his car.  He turned the ignition and began driving out of the parking lot before he could give himself a chance to think of the fact that Diane wasn’t sitting next to him as she should be.  Before long, he was on Motorway B-West, which he followed until taking the Motorway 6-North onramp.

After a time the bright city lights of Station Square surrounded him.  He took the offramp to Downtown-Bradbury St, and in five minutes he had pulled up in front of his apartment building.  Another five minutes found him stepping into the apartment he and Diane had been living in for the past three years.  He paused in the foyer, listening to the uncharacteristic silence of the apartment.  He walked through the entire apartment, noting every detail.  The book she had been reading before they left for the fishing trip.  The box of letters they had written each other when one or the other had been deployed.

He walked through slowly, seeing everything and thinking hard about what had happened.  Hope… well, it was always good to have hope in a situation like this, Aaron thought wryly.  But if she hadn’t washed up on shore, where the hell else could she be?  It wouldn’t do to keep a false hope.  That could only end greater heartbreak.

He found himself standing in the bedroom, looking down at the pictures on the dresser.  He picked one up, hands trembling slightly.  Aaron was wearing a tuxedo, probably the nicest, most formal civilian clothing he’d ever worn in his life.  He was holding hands with a bridal-gown clad Diane in front of a church, along with the bridesmaids and ushers.

He set the picture down and unclasped his dogtag chain from around his neck.  He pulled his wedding ring off and slipped it onto the chain, then clasped it back around his neck before tucking everything back into his shirt.  Absentmindedly, he rubbed his ring finger, which had never been this bare since they were married.  He practically felt naked without it.

He sighed and lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling and letting his mind go blank.  For the third time that day, he descended into a restless sleep.

When he woke up, he knew something was wrong, but it took him a few foggy-minded minutes before he remembered that Diane wasn’t sleeping next to him.  Feeling wholly unrefreshed, he began his morning ritual to cleanliness.

It wasn’t until he stepped out of the shower and looked into the mirror that the reality of the situation finally crashed down on him.  Diane was gone, she wasn’t ever coming back, and there was no way he could have prevented it.  It was an accident, he knew his friends would tell him.  It wasn’t your fault.  Nobody could see it coming.

As if it mattered.

He wept.

Aaron still felt overwhelmed even as he retrieved the newspaper and sat down with a cup of coffee.  His eyes didn’t want to focus, and his mind kept wandering.  It was for this reason that he didn’t even see the headlining news articles at first.

He nearly did a spit-take when he saw the two articles about the water creature and Floating Island taking up the whole front page.  He forced himself to concentrate so he could read.

The newspaper claimed the sea creature’s name was ‘Chaos.’  Chaos had apparently been seen around downtown Station Square—“Shit, that’s only a few blocks away from here!”—and finally Town Hall, where the police had attempted to stop it.

“The bullets had no effect?”  Aaron frowned, but kept reading.  Sonic had engaged Chaos and defeated it, but the creature had disappeared to places unknown, and hasn’t been sighted since.

Aaron skimmed the other article, but noted that the reason the Floating Island fell was because the Master Emerald had shattered.  The newspaper claimed there was no clear connection between Chaos and the Floating Island at this point, but Aaron knew.

First Chaos shows up and then the Island falls in the same area?  That was no coincidence.  He didn’t know what the connection was, but he did know that one existed.  Of that he was sure.  He set the paper down and continued to sip his coffee.  He rubbed his temple with one hand, trying to sort through the thousands of thoughts that were flying through his head.

The bullets just bounced off of Chaos.  What did that mean?  Could he adapt that quickly?  His train of thought was threatening derail itself and wreck, especially as he began thinking of Diane once again.

He felt torn inside his own mind.  Over here one part of his mind hurled accusations at him, that he should have held on tighter, that he should have rented a boat that was more powerful than the one he owned.  On the other side, another part was trying to reassure himself and tell him to move on with his life.  Another part cried for vengeance, that he couldn’t sit idly by.  Another was trying to get all the other parts to shut up so he could think.

Well, he thought as he stood up, the first thing to do is report Diane as missing.  He took the phone off the hook and dialed up Diane’s boss.

“3rd MP Battalion-B Company, First Sergeant White.”

Aaron cleared his throat.  “White, this is Aaron.”  He was surprised how strong his voice sounded, all things considered.

“Aaron!  How’s your leave going?”  He and White—Diane’s boss—were fairly good friends, and they hadn’t spoken in a while.  White was pleased to hear from Aaron.

Aaron hesitated.  “White, it’s Diane.”  He explained yesterday’s events while trying to keep his voice even and professional, but even so had to stop a couple of times so he could stay in control of himself.  Retelling everything meant having to relive it in his mind.

White’s voice was soft and reassuring.  “Jesus Christ.  God, Aaron, I’m sorry.  Listen, the search and rescue teams have been patrolling those waters since early this morning.  Do you need anything?  A friend, a priest or something to come by and check on you?”

“No, I—I should be fine.”

“Okay.  If you need anything, be sure to give me a call.  I’ll talk to the Vehicle Maintenance Company’s Command Sergeant Major, okay?  I’ll explain everything to them.  If we hear anything about Diane, we’ll let you know.”

“Thanks.”

“Don’t worry about coming in.  Take the rest of your leave… hell, if you need it, I’ll see if I can get you some emergency leave if you don’t feel ready to come back to work.  Until then, we’ll take care of finding Diane, okay?”

“Right.”

"Do you need anyone to talk to?  Do you want me to send the chaplain by or something?"

"...No."

“If you say so.  I’ll be here if you need me, Aaron.  I’m going to let you go now so you can work through this… take care.”

“You too.”  Aaron hung up the handset.  Sorting through his feelings would take some time, but one thing was certain—he wasn’t going to just sit idly by.  Chaos was the reason for this, and he was going to take his revenge.  In the back of his mind, he knew that revenge would not fix anything.  It wouldn’t bring Diane back, it wouldn’t make him feel better, and it wouldn’t put the Floating Island back in the air.  But empty or not, he would have his revenge.

A walk would help him straighten out this mess of thoughts and emotions, he decided.  He checked to make sure he had all the usual items in his pockets before stepping out of the apartment, locking the door behind him.

As he strode down the hall, he took a cigarette out of its pack and lit it.  He took the stairs down to the first floor two at a time and turned to open the door leading outside.

The scene through the door’s glass made him freeze.

A large crowd of people clamored in the streets.  Traffic had come to a standstill due to the police blockading the street.  Police seemed to be everywhere, trying to keep the people calm, divert traffic, and investigate all while spectators were crowding the cordoned-off areas, trying to get a closer look.

Aaron stepped out hesitantly, looking this way and that to avoid bumping into anyone.  He asked a couple people what had happened, but everyone seemed to ignore him as they tried to get closer.  Aaron cursed, and tried to get the attention of a passing police officer.

“Sir!  Hey, sir.  What the hell’s going on here?”

The cop sighed and shook his head.  “That Chaos thing showed up again.  He caused some damage in Hotel Merkur, and was seen passing this way.  Some people panicked, some got hurt, and now these morons won’t clear away and give us room to do our job.”

Aaron shook his head sympathetically and thanked him.  He walked to the far corner from where everything was happening, and crossed his arms.  Hotel Merkur… passing this way.  That was about southwest.  He closed his eyes and frowned.  What was southwest of here?  Just Emerald Coast, was all… then Boulder Bay.  Then what?

The Mystic Ruins.  He opened his eyes, still frowning.  Could it really be moving that predictably?  Just straight for the Mystic Ruins?  Then again, if he could walk on water, he’d probably do the same.  That would take considerably less time than going around the entire bay.

He finished his cigarette and stomped it out.  Target identified, he thought to himself.  Heading approximately southwest of current position, probable destination: Mystic Ruins.  He walked back to his apartment, mulling over the decision he’d just made.  Was he really going to go after Chaos?  Was it worth it?

He opened the door and saw Diane's shoes laying in the foyer, her jacket hanging on the coat rack, her book that she’d never get to finish.

Yes.  It was worth it.

Time to dig up the past.

He grabbed his rucksack and threw it on the bed.  He quickly began to go through his closet and drawers, grabbing what was going to be necessary.  Into the duffel bag went a set of forest-camouflage BDUs, several pairs of socks, boots, web belt with gear, and the camouflage face paint that recently had only been used for weekend paintball games.  He threw a pair of black leather gloves into the bag after a moment’s consideration.  That took care of that.  Now for equipment.

He stepped into the closet and opened a box in the far corner.  From it, he extracted an MP5/10, 10 magazines, 500 rounds of ammunition, and a cleaning kit.  He took everything into the kitchen and quickly disassembled the weapon, cleaning everything meticulously.  After he reassembled and ops-checked it, he began to load each of the magazines.  Before long, he had 300 rounds of ammunition ready-to-load.  He went back into the bedroom and placed these inside his rucksack as well.  He began to zip it up, but on another thought, he tossed his cell phone in as well.

He was as ready as he was going to be.  Chaos wasn’t fast enough to get to the Mystic Ruins before him, if he had it guessed right.  If he was lucky, he wouldn’t find out any differently.  He picked up the phone to make ticket reservations for the next train out.

Aaron arrived in the Mystic Ruins without event.  He was the only one to get off at that stop too, he noticed.  He smirked.  Perhaps he wasn’t the only one who figured that Chaos was coming here.

It didn’t take him long to find a small alcove hidden from view in the cliff wall.  Keeping an eye for anyone that might pass by and see him, he began to strip his civilian clothing and donned the mottled green-black-brown fatigues.  The next step was the face paint.  He was careful to put it on in such a manner as to break up the outlines of his face and make it indistinguishable from any surrounding foliage he would hide in.  Looking at himself through the mirror on the inside of the case, his old codename floated up from the past.  Viper.

He put on his jungle hat, gloves, and web gear.  After a final ops-check on his weapon, he slid the bolt back and up into the notch before slapping a magazine home and releasing the bolt to chamber a round.  Satisfied, he shrugged the rucksack on again, tossed the MP5/10’s sling over one shoulder, and stalked out of the alcove.  He did his best to stay out of view of any possible onlookers until he found some foliage he could hide and wait in.  Secrecy was essential.

After taking his rucksack off and getting settled, he realized he desperately wanted a cigarette.  He couldn’t risk it, unfortunately—the smoke would attract the attention of anything with eyes or a nose.  Everything he learned when he was in Special Forces had been coming back to him in the past few hours.  Just like learning to ride a bike, Aaron thought.  You never forgot.  Even now, his senses were adapting to his surroundings.  His saw everything that was a natural part of the environment and everything that was not.  His heard the ambient noise of the wildlife and rustling foliage.  He smelled the fresh green life and rich earth around him.  A change in any one of these things would be cause for alarm.

Laying down in the brush and waiting was his least favorite part of the job.  It was also the hardest.  He had to stay alert at all times, lest the objective pass by him or worse yet, take him unawares.  Stalking through enemy territory required a high level of awareness as well, but at least things were in a constant state of flux—the body moved, scenery changed, the adrenal glands would dump their contents into the bloodstream at any sign of danger.  Aaron preferred that to staving off the boredom of a “stakeout” any day.

He rubbed his thumb back and forth along the selector switch in anticipation.  It was safed as it should be, but once he got a clear shot at—shit.  He had forgotten the bit about the police’s bullets bouncing off of Chaos.  He scowled in anger at himself.  How could he have been so stupid as to forget that?  Dare he turn back now, after all the preparation?  After he’d already made his decision?  No.  That would be a failure—both of the mission and to Diane’s memory—and he couldn’t allow it.

This thing couldn’t be invulnerable.  Everything had a weak point, no matter what it was.  The eyes?  Perhaps.  His eyes continued to sweep the area for any signs of Chaos as he continued to think.  Were there any other possible weak points he could attack?  After a few minutes of more hard thought, he came up empty-handed.  The eyes it would be, then.  He honestly didn’t know if he could hit such a small target in a combat situation, but he sure as hell was going to try.

He found his mind drifting away, and took a deep breath.  He exhaled slowly, and forced himself to concentrate.  He hoped his perseverance would not go unrewarded as he continued to stroke the selector switch.

He didn’t have to wait much longer.  A very soft, nearly indistinguishable sound whispered its way into Aaron’s ears.  He felt the old, familiar adrenaline rush flow through his veins as his sense of danger increased.  His eyes searched the area in the direction the sound had come, but didn’t catch anything at first.

Aaron’s grip on the MP5/10 tightened.  There!  A mixture of exhilaration and anxiety swept over him as he saw the small puddle of watery-oily stuff slip over the ground.  It seemed to be heading towards the pond at the foot of the waterfall.

He wasn’t going to let it get there.  He brought his breathing under control as he lined up the iron sights, aiming for the center of the liquid mass.  “Viper to IDAHO, Objective acquired, preparing to engage.”  Carefully, he flicked the selector switch to single shot.  That action was quickly followed by the flash and bang of the weapon's fire.

The oozing puddle stopped as he expected, but his breath caught in his throat as Chaos took form again.  He was at least three times as big as before and had developed some sort of rudimentary bone structure!  It took Aaron a moment to recover from the surprise, and by that time Chaos was headed straight for him.

He leapt out from his hiding place and peered down the barrel again.  He thumbed the switch to three-round burst and brought one of Chaos’ eyes into the sight picture.  He followed the bob and weave of the head as best he could, and squeezed the trigger.

The gun jerked in his hands, trying to force itself upward with each shot, but Aaron kept it steady.  Unfortunately, his aim was off, and the shots went wide.  He dashed out and tried to circle around Chaos, ready to unleash another burst when the opportunity presented itself.

Chaos was surprisingly fast for its size.

Before Aaron could react, Chaos was upon him.  Chaos raised one massive three-fingered ‘hand’ and swiped at Aaron.  Aaron tried to block the blow as best he could, but still found himself tumbling on the ground.  He grimaced in pain as he leapt back to his feet and swung around to face Chaos, weapon at the ready.  Even as Chaos bore down on him, he backpedaled while firing repeatedly at Chaos’ face, hoping for the best.

One eye suddenly seemed to explode into Chaos’ watery body.  The creature started clawing at the wounded organ as Aaron grinned, satisfied, and attempted to line up a shot at the other eye.  It was almost impossible, he found, as Chaos writhed in pain and seemed to want to claw the offending organ out.

The sight picture was resting on a fully stationary target all of a sudden.  He lifted his head from the weapon to see what was going on.

His blood turned to ice.

The shreds of eye that were left were trembling and regenerating.  In the span of a few seconds, Chaos’ eye was fully restored and functional.

Aaron exhaled slowly, his mind racing.  There was only one real alternative at this point—retreat.  He wasn’t properly equipped to take this thing on.  He slung his MP5/10 over his shoulder, turned, and began running as fast as he could.  He’d return for the rucksack later, right now he needed to get away with his life.

He heard the sound of heavy footsteps behind him, but too late.  He watched with disbelieving eyes as Chaos’ hand wrapped around his body and hoisted him into the air.  How the hell could that thing outrun me? his mind screamed.

There was no time to ponder the question further as Chaos flung him several meters away.  He gasped as his shoulder hit the ground.  He felt something twist in a way it shouldn’t have, accompanied by a near-blinding pain.  Breathing raggedly, he grasped his shoulder as he got to his feet.

Chaos was bearing down on him again.

He brought his MP5/10 up with his good arm and set it to full-auto.  He didn’t bother aiming this time; he just sprayed lead in what he hoped would be a suppressive hail as he backed away.  The bullets bounced off harmlessly as Chaos charged, keeping a hand in front of its face.  Aaron ducked under the first blow, but took the second one hard in the chest.

His weapon flew out of his hands as a third hit spun him around and knocked him down.  He fell face-first, the wind knocked out of him.  Hardly able to breathe, he still tried to get up, but felt Chaos smash him back into the ground.  His head whip lashed and on the way back down struck the ground hard.  A flitting, almost amusing thought appeared in his mind—you really do see stars!—and disappeared as just as quickly.  He felt the fingers wrap around his body and pick him up again.

He hardly realized that Chaos was squeezing him.  He only knew that no amount of struggling was making his situation any better, and that pain was exploding in bright red bursts all throughout his body.  His vision was quickly turning black, and he was ready to pass out.

And suddenly, it was over.  The haze of pain cleared from Aaron’s vision just in time to see Chaos’ watery form disappear into the ground.  Confusion mottled his thoughts, but he could hardly think coherently enough to form any question in his mind.  Any action he tried to take or thought he tried to ponder was quickly cut off by a knife of pain from somewhere in his body.  He couldn’t do anything for the moment but rest and wait.

He was suddenly aware of movement at the pond.  He struggled to focus his eyes, and saw a blue hedgehog and a small two-tailed fox talking to Knuckles--the Guardian of the Floating Island--a couple hundred meters away.  It took a few seconds for him to identify the hedgehog as Sonic and the fox as his sidekick, Tails.

He couldn’t hear what they were talking about, but Knuckles apparently wanted something from Sonic.  He watched everything while he slowly tried to regain control of his body.

He arched an eyebrow as the two began to fight.  As far as he had known, the two were fairly good friends, but here they were fighting over… something.  He slowly tested his limbs, and found he could move for the price of some pain.  He crawled to his hands and knees and looked up again.  The fight was already over, and each of them had dropped a huge gem of some sort.  Aaron frowned.  What the hell?

He struggled to his feet and wobbled a little unsteadily.  He felt dizzy and his major joints screamed in protest, but he forced himself to move, to make his body work.  He stumbled over to the weapon he had dropped and picked it up.  When he looked over by the pond again, he felt even more confused.

Some fat guy was in a tiny flying egg-shaped thing.  He narrowed his eyes to take a closer look.  Wait a second, an egg-shaped flying thing?  This must be Eggman, Aaron told himself.  Eggman was a self-proclaimed ‘evil genius’ that had terrorized various places around the globe many times before.  Sonic and his pals had managed to stop him every time so far.  As a matter of fact, Aaron realized, the world hadn’t really seen or heard much from Eggman in a few years.

He slung the MP5 over his shoulder again and staggered closer, trying to hear what was going on.  Eggman now had both of the gems that had fallen on the ground earlier, and was taunting the three below him with it.  He limped into earshot just in time to hear one word from Eggman.

“…Chaos!”  It sounded as though he were taunting, or calling it.

He found out which it was when Chaos appeared from the ground next to Eggman’s flying vehicle.  He watched as Eggman tossed the two gems into Chaos, who absorbed them readily.  A bright flash of light forced Aaron to shield his eyes, but when it faded, Aaron’s jaw dropped open.

Chaos had changed form again.  It resembled something much like a horribly mutated shark now, and was even bigger than before.  That solved the mystery of its new appearance, but why did those gems affect it?  Another mystery.

The whine of jet engines brought his and everyone else’s attention skyward.  A monstrous flying fortress was powering its way through the sky and trailing several streams of blue flame.  Eggman began to gloat.

“Behold my greatest creation!  The Egg Fortress!”  Eggman laughed gleefully.

Aaron took his eyes off the Egg Fortress, impressive as it was, and began to move closer, holding his MP5/10 in both hands. The action had been held open when he picked it up; he promptly switched the empty magazine for a fresh one and slapped the bolt out of the notch to chamber a round.  He had already figured that Eggman was the one behind all this.  Eggman was controlling Chaos.  Eggman was the reason Diane was dead.  Eggman was now his objective.

Eggman finally noticed him, he saw.  The repulsively fat man stood up in his vehicle and thrust a finger in Aaron’s direction, bringing him to the other three’s attention as well.  “I hope you’ve learned your lesson, fool.”  His voice had suddenly turned rather cold and contemptuous.  “You’re out of your league.  You’d better leave while you still can.”

Aaron didn’t reply.  Eggman had long ago ceased being a human being in his eyes.  Eggman was just a target now.  A thing.  He brought his weapon up to bear and tried to align the sights, even though his shaking arms and dizziness fought against him.

Before he could even fire a single shot, Eggman and Chaos were enveloped in a bright crimson beam of light shot down from the Egg Carrier.  They seemed to waver in the air for a moment before they disappeared from sight completely.  Aaron spat in disgust and disappointment at letting them get away.  “Fuck.”  He spoke the epithet with more emphasis than he probably had in his entire life, he thought.

Aaron noticed he was being stared at.  He looked down and saw three pairs of questioning eyes.

Sonic was the first to speak, stepping forward and jabbing a finger in Aaron's direction.  "You fought that thing?"  His expression was one of disbelief that this man with no special abilities to speak of and armed with only a submachine gun had taken on the monster Chaos.

Aaron was still sore, both physically and otherwise, and didn't feel like making conversation at the moment.  "What of it?"

"Well, why'd you do it?  Who are you?  Did the Army send you?"

Aaron safed his weapon and slung it over his shoulder again before answering.  "Name's Aaron, and no, the Army didn't send me."

Tails nudged Sonic before he could ask another question.  "Sonic, no time to worry about that, we've got to catch up to Eggman!  We'll take the Tornado from my workshop!"

Aaron watched as Sonic slapped his forehead.  "You're right, bud!  Sorry!  Let's go!"  He watched them speed off towards the workshop before looking back down at the Guardian that was still standing there.

Knuckles looked at Aaron impassively.  "That took guts."

"Hmph."  Just a neutral grunt, neither acknowledging nor denying the compliment.

"So why'd you do it?  You trying to be a hero or something?"

“I’ve got my reasons.”  He decided to ignore the implied insult and locked eyes with Knuckles.  “Don’t worry about it.  But what can you tell me about those gems that made Chaos change like that?”

Knuckles whistled.  “You don’t know about the Chaos Emeralds?”

Aaron blinked.  “Chaos Emeralds?  That’s what those were?”  He shook his head.  “I should have known.”  It was so obvious when you thought about it, he realized.

Nobody knew precisely what the Chaos Emeralds were or their origins, but they were related to the Master Emerald somehow.  There were seven in all, and each one had different properties.  A single Chaos Emerald was rumored to have enough energy to power an entire nation for years, but it was nearly impossible to find them.

Eggman had apparently devised a plan that involved Chaos and the Chaos Emeralds, and knew how to obtain them.

Knuckles nodded and spoke, breaking into Aaron's thoughts.  “Yeah, well, I’ve got a few things to take care of myself.  Be careful, Aaron.”

“Hmph.”  Another neutral response.  He watched Knuckles run off to do whatever  it was he had to do and frowned.  There were some things he needed to take care of, too.  He walked over to the rucksack that, thankfully, was still where he left it.

He looked down at the MP5/10 in his hands.  This used to seem like such a fearsome, deadly weapon.  He was surprised how small and impotent it now looked.

He reached into the rucksack, extracted his cell phone, and quickly dialed in an old friend’s number.

“Hey, Ted?  Yeah, you too.  Sorry, Ted, but this call’s about business…”