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Chapter 3: Assault.

Going through a warp gate was an... interesting experience to say the least. Actually, it was like riding some twisted roller coaster that was taking the express ride to Hell, complete with psychedelic lights and swirling colors that would have made even Hunter Thompson put the LSD away. Needless to say, because of my fear of heights, falling, and an overall poor stomach, I wasn't doing so well when I finally arrived at Krazoa Palace.

I materialized on my feet, thankfully; but the nausea that welled up inside my stomach made me forget everything else. I bent over and promptly lost the last vestiges of last night's spaghetti dinner. There went that one last shred of dignity. Ugh. I unhooked my water bottle from my utility belt and washed my mouth of the acrid taste, spitting it out onto a stone floor already soaked with rain. That was when I noticed I was standing in the middle of a rainstorm. Just my luck.

From what I remembered from the game the Krazoa Palace was hidden inside a perpetual storm, making it difficult to get to for most of the natives. I tried to get my bearings, but the place was a bit unfamiliar to me. All I could tell was that I was on a large platform built onto the side of the Palace; a balcony of sorts.

I bent down and picked my Remington up from the floor; I had apparently dropped it. This time I had packed a bit lighter... just the scattergun, handguns, and a moderate amount of ammunition for all of them. I hoped it would be enough. Once again I ran my mantra through my head: conserve ammunition, make my shots count. If I ran out of ammo, I was screwed. I was equipped well enough to be a very nasty threat to the Sharpclaw that were going to attack the Palace, but without the protection of a good firearm I was a sitting duck. I wasn't crazy enough to try and take on a rampaging lizard twice my size with my bare hands.

I was, however, crazy enough to take them on with a shotgun... and that was precisely why I was there. If this was truly me in the game, my presence here was definitely changing the timeline. Part of me wondered if I really should even be doing this, but the more logical part of me fought back with the fact that if I didn't do something to help out, I was going to end up dead.

I pushed forward, shotgun held at the ready. I was starting to get soaked through the fatigues, and I wanted to get inside rather quickly. The torrential downpour subsided to a steady drizzle once I ducked under an overhang, beyond which I spotted a moderately-sized wooden door.

The door took quite a bit of effort to open. My best guess was that it was around five hundred pounds; meant for some pretty big creatures, judging by the size of the dinosaurs that frequented the place. It took me basically shoulder-checking the door to get it open far enough for me to actually enter. I wiggled my way into a torchlit stone chamber, thankfully out of the rain for the time being.

I was alone for the moment, which gave me enough time to try to get my bearings. The bluish-gray stonework combined with intricate stone carvings gave me no doubt I was in the right place. I took a moment to look at them, keeping my ears open for the sound of approaching footsteps.

I was no archaeologist, but the style mimicked ancient Egyptian hieroglyphics. Depictions of robed alienesque figures interacting with dinosaurs peppered the symbols; Krazoa Spirits dealing with the Saurians, I assumed. My guess was that this was some sort of historical record. They were interesting, even if I couldn't make any sense of it.

However, I had to pull myself from admiring the artwork. There was going to be an attack soon, and even though they weren't expecting me I had to help the Earthwalkers push the Sharpclaw back. Maybe I would even be successful at doing it... just maybe. I turned and started walking down the corridor, keeping my Remington at the ready.

I emerged from the corridor into familiar territory. The room had been an offshoot of the main room of the Palace; an enormous cylindrical chamber that housed a very large jewel. In the game the jewel was Krystal's prison, which was where I really _didn't_need her to be. Again, I wondered if I was nuts or desperate, feeling like my entire survival depended upon the game's damsel in distress. Either way, it all seemed very goddamn surreal.

I glanced over the edge and sure enough the jewel was sitting there, two-hundred feet below me at the bottom of the chamber. I looked upwards; suddenly thankful I was somehow on the top level of the Palace. That meant I wouldn't have to ride those damned air-elevators that I had such a hard time navigating Fox through. In the virtual world a fall from this height knocked a few easily-regained health shards from him, but I was pretty sure a fall like that would turn me into a grease spot.

An idea crossed my mind and a grin tugged at my lips... why not destroy that jewel right now, or at least try to? I slid the Remington into what counted as a makeshift scabbard on my backpack and reached for my revolver. The Taurus stood the highest chance of actually penetrating the jewel out of anything I had... the .357's advantage lay in its velocity and power. I braced the pistol on the balcony's railing, took aim, and pulled the trigger.

The nicely cushioned grips and ported barrel kept the Taurus very much on target as I ripped through the entire cylinder as fast as I could pull the trigger; the noise startlingly loud even in the big chamber. Seven rounds were gone in the matter of a few seconds, a gamble which I hoped would work.

It didn't. The jewel didn't even look like it was hit at all, even though I know I at least scored a few on it. "Fuck!" I hissed, unsure whether to be ticked off more at the waste of ammo or the fact the jewel still stood intact. It didn't take but a few seconds to realize I had made a big mistake. Growls and hisses of alarm filled the level, which meant I was pretty much caught with my pants down. Had the Sharpclaw already arrived?

I started to shake as I reloaded my pistol; my hands fumbling with sliding fresh cartridges into the revolver's cylinder. I shoved it back into its holster and extracted the shotgun. It'd have to do. I was as ready as I was going to be.

A flash of movement at the corner of my eye alerted me to the fact that the bastards were already pouring out onto the balcony. I tucked the shotgun into my shoulder and backed away into the hall I had emerged from. If I could catch them in a chokepoint I might have a chance.

More hissing and growling popped in from behind me, which meant only one thing: they had forced_me_ into a chokepoint. I didn't even have seconds to make a decision on what to do; the reptilian soldiers were already funneling into the hallway. Going back would force me out onto a small balcony over an unimaginable drop, or moving forward would put me into direct combat with a whole mess of them. I chose forward.

I rushed ahead, emptying the shotgun into the mass of Sharpclaw in front of me. The blasts killed a few, but more importantly drove several of them back. The downside was that I didn't have enough time to reload or put the Remington away. Taking advantage of the couple of seconds of hesitation I bolted, pushing past the stunned Saurians while pulling out my M1911.

There wasn't really anything I could do to make a stand; there were simply too many of them around. Actually I was pretty sure I was royally fucked, since the Sharpclaw gathered their senses pretty quickly and started to surround me. They were startled again when a bellowing roar sounded off behind them... loud enough to cause me to temporarily forget I was surrounded by twenty lizards the size of your average NFL quarterback and armed with lots of nasty, pointy weapons. However, the Sharpclaw now weren't the worst of my worries.

One of the Earthwarkers had decided to come out and join the fray. While they were technically on my side, I didn't think he knew that. He was charging across the balcony, rushing in to ram the group of Sharpclaw that had surrounded me. The cavalry had arrived, but getting squashed by a seven ton dinosaur would make me just as dead as being shanked by ten Sharpclaw. There was only one option.

I raised the 1911 up and fired into the thinnest portion of the crowd; the ones standing near the balustrade overlooking the large jewel. A few of them went down as my pistol cycled empty, and I took my chances. I ran forward, stepping onto a Sharpclaw's corpse then onto the railing, taking a mighty leap as the Earthwalker smashed into the crowd.

Heights and the sensation of falling sicken the hell out of me, and I can't say how much I was screaming at myself for such a bad idea. I had just enough time to drift over one of the forced-air elevator platforms... and was launched upward with a mighty gust that felt like a hurricane had decided I was its new plaything. Fear shot through me like a dagger to the heart as I quickly found out I had no control; I went from plummeting like a rock to the floor to being tossed through the air like an autumn leaf. The only solid thing I had a hold on were my guns; the emptied pistol and shotgun clenched in a grip so tight I thought I'd need a prybar to get them out.

The last thing I remembered was the air blast suddenly changing course and blasting me out into one of the balconies; I didn't know which one. I collided with the floor and everything went black.

*

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*

I had never fainted or been knocked out before, and I've taken some pretty heavy hits. Falling five feet off a playground 'bridge' when I was a kid didn't do it, nor did getting beaned full-force by a socket wrench when helping a friend work on an old car of his years ago didn't do it, either. This, however, did.

The headache that came in a few moments was completely obscene; one of those where it feels like a construction worker has been taking a jackhammer to the back of your skull for the past hour. Luckily, I had brought my first-aid kit with me; while it wasn't all that equipped to deal with major issues I had plenty of Excedrin. I eased myself into a sitting position and slipped my backpack off, amazed that my shotgun was lying next to me. As I popped four of the green and white pills with a long draught of water, I tried to locate my M1911.

The pistol had landed several yards away, probably after skidding on the stone floor the entire way. I grimaced... if that was damaged, I was kinda screwed. I took a few moments to get up... my head wasn't all too happy with sudden movements, and I felt almost punchdrunk. Only the knowledge that I was still very likely in danger kept me moving on. A bit of curiosity caused me to take a look at my watch. The old Timex on my wrist indicated that it was a bit past two-thirty. I had arrived around eleven. I had been out for a while, which means I may have had a concussion. Just great.

But... why hadn't I been set on by the Sharpclaw yet? For that matter, where was everyone? I used those questions to keep my mind occupied as I collected my handgun. There were a few scratches on the frame and slide but to my relief there was no major damage. I slapped a fresh magazine into it and hit the slide release; that did a lot for my confidence. I was still alive. Hurt, but alive. I put the pistol up and reloaded my shotgun. As long as I didn't run into huge numbers of the bastards, I was okay.

I tried to keep my pounding, swimming head occupied as I started down the hallway, attempting to keep it clear as much as possible. There had to be a way out of this. A quick look over the balcony revealed I was on the lowest level of the palace; something I'd have to change. As much as I hated to think about it, the damned 'elevators' were the only way to the top.

After taking a deep breath I approached the platform once again and jumped on. Like before, I was blown upwards like a leaf caught in a hurricane, but my addled mind discovered another fact... I could 'push' against the current as if I was swimming. That information made it a hell of a lot easier to keep myself steady. I soon found out I could 'swim' between platforms, making my journey back up much less harrowing.

Within a few minutes I was back on the top level, shotgun in my hands and staring at a very grisly scene. Several Sharpclaw bodies were strewn about; some of them trampled, some gored, and some of them shot by my hand. I had seen my share of shock videos, but nothing compared to that kind of sight in real life. If I had anything left in my stomach I would have puked again; as it was I retched. I gulped some air to keep another set of dry heaves from wracking my body, and then slowly pressed on.

The upper level was almost devoid of openings. One was covered in some sort of purple force field which led to the Krazoa Shrine Krystal used in the game; the same one where she would be ambushed and captured. The other looked to be another 'air elevator' going up, most likely to the roof. I wasn't going to do any good where I was, so I stepped on.

I was starting to get used to the sickening falling sensation, but my stomach really didn't like it. I was a little worried because I always had stomach issues, and it couldn't take a lot of punishment before making my life a living hell. The last thing I needed was having debilitating stomach cramps when I needed to fight. I was on my own out here, and something like that could easily spell a quick, painful demise.

Either way it had started grumbling, and that meant that it wasn't happy. Dammit. I had a few hours at most before things started getting really difficult. I had to force my focus from my stomach as I arrived at the top of the 'airevator,' emerging into the same rainstorm that I had been in just a couple of hours before.

The timescale at home definitely didn't jive with Sauria; it was already nighttime. Krystal's part in the game started at night, just after the attack. That meant I was running out of time in more ways than one. I was on the roof of the Palace, judging by the thick, bluish-gray stone and the gantry in the middle. That gantry would be holding the vixen prisoner in that large jewel if I didn't do something, and quick.

However, my first concern was in a loud, pained bellow that carried out across the rooftop. I clenched my shotgun and eased out of the alcove the lift was in, emerging into the full, driving rainstorm.

I didn't see anything at first, but after rounding a corner I cursed and ducked behind it. No less than five smaller Sharpclaw surrounded an Earthwalker who was frantically trying to drive them away from some strange-looking machine. Two of the larger 'brute' Sharpclaw were moving in on the wounded Saurian, whose movements were becoming more and more sluggish. They brandished halberds with blades that looked like they could cleave a car in half. The Earthwalker roared in defiance, one that turned out to be its last... ending in a sickening, saddening gurgle as the brutes struck with their polearms.

I can honestly say I was scared shitless. That group of Sharpclaw took out an Earthwalker, a Triceratops-based Saurian who was nearly the size and weight of an APC. I weighed around half that of a regular Sharpclaw, and had absolutely no aptitude in hand to hand combat. I may have been fairly well armed, but something told me a shotgun might not cut it.

However, the bastards just cut down an Earthwalker, and I could hear their alien voices cheering because of it. A bolt of anger shot through me. They were getting away with it and here I was, armed to the teeth. They had spears, halberds, swords, and clubs. I had a pump-action shotgun and three handguns. I had to do something.

I unloaded two shells out of the Remington then went fishing inside one of my belt pouches. My plan was very touch and go, but at least it was one. Most of my shells were a mixture of buckshot and birdshot; self-defense and target loads. Those brutes would need a lot of extra punch, but I had a grand total of twenty slugs in my supply. Thank God I brought a few along. I shoved them into the gun and swung back out into the open, taking careful aim.

The closest brute was about thirty yards away from me; not the easiest shot with a simple bead sight, but it was all I had. I centered it on his head and pulled the trigger. The Remington's report was louder than normal, the weapon slamming me in the shoulder like a pissed-off mule. The heavy slug worked; much to my amazement the brute's head erupted in a shower of gore and blood. I didn't have the time to get sick; I had the other bastard to take care of. As the others turned around to face me, I was already racking the second slug into the chamber.

I shot the other brute in the chest, the slug putting him down fairly quickly. The other Sharpclaw froze in place; I assumed they were either trying to keep me away from the equipment, or they weren't sure how to react to a gun-wielding threat. I worked the pump again, bringing the first buckshot into play as I aimed at the center Sharpclaw.

That was a mistake. The bastard got wise and jumped out of the way as I pulled the trigger. The mass of pellets smacked into the machine behind him, which fizzled out in a flurry of sparks and angry electrical noises. "Fuck!" I shouted, firing my last two shells into the now-charging enemy.

Two Sharpclaw fell to my assault, but the others kept coming. I had no choice other than run; they were closing in on me very quickly. I held onto the shotgun with my off hand, extracting the Taurus as I ran. I ducked behind the first corner I came across, hoping to at least buy some time to set up an ambush.

I dropped the shotgun and wheeled around, revolver in hand; hoping that the Sharpclaw were stupid enough to follow me around. My luck held out; two rounded the corner at full speed, only to be greeted by two double-taps. The .357 Magnum pills worked pretty well on them, the Sharpclaw dropping like rocks.

Stupidly, I left my six wide open. I didn't realize the third one snuck around me until I heard his heavy footfalls. My backpack was recipient to what felt like a sledgehammer smacking it full force. The only reason the blow didn't break my spine was it hit the thickest part of my backpack. I was knocked flat on my face, the Taurus flying from my grasp. My hand shot down for my M1911; I turned around just in time to see the lizard winding up for a blow that would split my head open. Pure instinct took over, lashing out with my boot and slamming it into where I thought its kneecap would be. My antagonist buckled in mid-strike, its club colliding with the stone wall next to us hard enough to crack the wood. That gave me enough time to pull my pistol out and deliver two well-placed shots to its chest, dropping it like the others.

I picked myself off the floor, both my back and head screaming bloody murder at me; a sure sign that I'd need a few visits to my doctor after all this was over. While my bruised and aching body bitched at me, I went about the task of reloading my weapons once more. I had fired a total of eight shotgun shells, two slugs, eleven rounds of .357 Magnum and ten .45 ACP. In short, I was burning through my limited ammunition. I had to be much more careful than I had been.

After a moment I stumbled over to the strange machine that an Earthwalker died trying to protect and several Sharpclaw died trying to keep from me. The device looked like a desktop computer on steroids; a touchscreen terminal attached to a chest-high box and several bristling antenna. It was most likely a communications terminal of some kind.

It probably would have worked if I hadn't accidentally peppered it with a bunch of #4 buckshot. Advanced technology like this was most definitely Cornerian in orgin, which meant I likely cut off Sauria's only contact with other planets in the star system. Loosely put, I was honestly doing more harm than good out there. I hadn't really been able to fend off the Sharpclaw attack, and with communications to Corneria cut off the chances of a distress signal being received by their military wasn't too great... meaning that Fox McCloud was probably not coming.

"Fuck." I hissed, reattaching my shotgun to my backpack. That was about all I really could say about the situation. All I had really succeeded in doing was killing several Sharpclaw, wasting some ammo and getting a concussion. I was also getting a shower with as much as it was raining. I took a deep breath of cold, humid air and slumped back to the 'airevator.'

As I returned to the relatively warmer, drier confines of the palace, I glanced around the top level. Nothing had changed; that strange purple forcefield was still barring my way deeper into the structure and there were no Sharpclaw waiting to try and stick a blade in my gut. There was really no telling what I needed to do next; the most I could do was wait for Krystal to make her way here(if she did) and activate the Krazoa shrine that kept that forcefield up.

I tried to make myself as comfortable as I could afford, propping my backpack against the wall like a cushion after taking out something to eat and drink. I wasn't particularly hungry, but I had to wonder if the old soldiers' tales had any merit: get it when you could, because you didn't know when you'd get it next. I had extracted a bottle of water and a can of tuna... not exactly the most pleasant meal, but it was compact and it was food. I took my time eating, noting with dismay that after I finished the forcefield was still up.

Time passed like waiting in line for the DMV: full of impatience and boredom. The nagging thought that I should have brought a book was constantly at the back of my mind. I must have checked my watch a hundred times in two hours. I was effectively stuck there until something happened. I passed through states of anxiousness, boredom, and impatience; my headache refusing to go away. Needless to say I was beginning to become more agitated with every minute that passed.

I was completely unprepared when the forcefield flashed away from existence. From knowing how the game went I had mere seconds before Krystal was assaulted and tossed into the beam that led to the jewel below me; the very same jewel that was starting to rise up from the floor. A wave of nervousness washed over me as I slipped my backpack on and pulled out my .45... this was it.

I emerged into the long hallway, nearly halting in my tracks at the sight. The iconic blue vixen was kneeling in front of the shrine, spreading her arms open in order to transfer the spirit into it. A moan of pain echoed through her lips as the bluish apparition burst from her body, flowing into the shrine. As I stood there dumbstruck, a beam of purplish-pink light shot from the shrine, right over my head. I had no more time to act. My legs propelled me forward as my hands brought up my M1911, sights tracking on the space to her right; where her hidden attacker was waiting.

Krystal stood up shakily, as if she was drained from the effort of what she had just went through. She was neither aware of me nor of the strange mirage approaching her from the shadows. I was. "GET DOWN!" I shouted, pointing the handgun into the center of the shimmering mass.

To her credit she heeded my warning, hitting the deck as I pulled the trigger. Four thunderclaps echoed in the tight chamber and an even louder roar of pain followed. I probably only pissed it off, but I was too fueled with adrenaline to be frightened out of my wits.

The monstrous apparition stood still for a moment, probably considering if Krystal or I represented the greater threat. The vixen rolled away from it as I reached the branch to a short corridor off to my right. Without even thinking I reached out and grabbed her by the wrist, roughly yanking her out of harm's way and bolting down the hall as if Satan himself was giving chase. An angry bellow that felt like it would cave in the roof came from behind us... now I was scared shitless. Hoping to God that Krystal would keep up I let go of her wrist, choosing to leap off of the small lift at the end of the corridor than wait for it to take me down.

I hit the floor with a jolt that nearly knocked the breath out of me and jarred my knees. They angrily protested as I immediately transitioned from hitting the ground with both feet to running like my ass was on fire, straight towards a large opening right ahead. A feminine grunt sounded right behind me; Krystal was keeping up. In all of this mess, something was going right for once.

The huge chamber we entered was decorated very ornately, although the centerpiece was quite strange; a platform with what looked like a 55-gallon drum perched on top of it. I rushed past it, hoping that Krystal had enough sense to follow my lead. I whirled around, placing my M1911s sights square on the barrel and pulled the trigger.

The pistol's report was drowned out by the barrel's explosion, shortly followed by the grinding of stone on stone as the huge, heavy door the platform had been triggering fell shut. Tons and tons of granite blocked off our pursuer's path, and we could both hear the faint pounding of massive fists on stone. We were safe... for now.

I took a second and directed an incredulous gaze to the vixen that stood in front of me. Not that I would admit it to her, but she was the idol of quite a few people back home, myself tentatively included. She stood a little shorter than I was, her cerulean fur still damp from the rain outside.

The bikini top and loincloth she wore didn't hide too much of her body, but her bracers and shinguards probably gave her some sort of protection. I had to admit she was elegant, in a haunting, alien sort of way. Another thing I noticed was the fact I was panting for breath, but she didn't seem too terribly winded from our short sprint. She was in a hell of a lot better shape than I was. I wasn't sure if I should be overjoyed or cautious, but the way her emerald eyes glanced to mine it was apparent she was sizing me up in the same way.

"Who... who _are_you?" she asked, her voice laced with fear. Her accent was British, although definitely more of the upper crust Londoner variety. It was then I noticed she was eying me suspiciously. "Why did you help me...? I could have been evil!" That line was directly from the game.

"You weren't the antagonist in that matchup, and I'm pretty sure Earthwalkers can't become invisible at the drop of a hat." I responded, hoping that it would help defuse the situation. "That, and it looks like both of us are here trying to help them out." I tried to keep my thoughts in check. If she was really telepathic, she'd figure out pretty quickly that this was all just a video game to me, and she was one of the main characters in it. Even though I was expecting her presence here, standing face-to-face with an anthropomorphic vixen was a bit... unnerving.

I really couldn't worry about it, though. She had what I assumed was a puzzled look on her features, but the puzzlement soon turned to concern as the door vibrated a little. Whatever the hell I just rescued her from wasn't taking a stone door in its path all too lightly. I was relieved at the break in conversation that particular danger provided, however. "Listen. We can make introductions later. Just know that I'm on your side here, but if we don't get the fuck out of Dodge we're going to be in a world of shit. Okay?" I pointed up the ramp I knew she had entered the room from earlier; one lined with jets of fire which sequentially turned on and shut off. "Does that lead outside?"

She nodded, but I caught a flash of something in her emerald eyes. I hoped I hadn't given her any cause for suspicion. "Your words are fairly strange, but I think I know what you're saying. We need to leave the Palace, right?" I simply nodded, already making my way towards the flames. "We need to be careful. There's dangerous beasts ahead, and I lost my staff boarding General Scales' flying ship."

"Then please stay behind me. I really don't have the time to show you how to use one of my weapons right now." I remained blunt and to the point, slapping a fresh mag into my M1911 as I reached the corridor with the flame jets. "If you spot one of them, let me know... I'll take it out."

That caused her expression to fall a bit. "Alright. I really hope Kyte is waiting for us." The vixen sighed, glancing to me as I kept watch over the timing of the flame jets for a moment. "I haven't done all that well fighting off Scales' Sharpclaw so far. I was hoping to at least be able to help them..."

"I haven't had that much luck either." I responded, taking a few steps past the first flame jet. Krystal followed, looking like a lost puppy following me. It would have been almost comical, if I hadn't been on edge and expecting anything to jump out of the walls at me. "I almost got killed several times coming here... it's a damn miracle that I'm not seriously hurt." Well, other than a splitting headache and a back in dire need of a chiropractor.

"What happened?" The vixen asked as we stepped past the next flame jet, the tone in her voice showing that her curiosity had been piqued. This caused me to glance over to her once more in puzzlement. She had to be at least suspicious of me, and if her telepathic talents really were like what they were in the games, she would have known right off that she was a damned video game character where I came from; an object for fanboys to drool over. Furthermore, I wrote stories about her, for Christ's sake. She was a fictional character whose mouth I put words into. I was sure she would be pretty torqued when she heard that particular nugget.

"To make an incredibly long story short, I'm stranded here." That was pretty much the truth, wasn't it? "I got in contact with something called a Warpstone, who told me about a possible attack here. I agreed to help since I've got the firepower, and blundered my way through all of it." We continued to cautiously make our way past the flame jets; the conversation strangely enough making the journey between the searing hot traps a little bit more bearable. "I'm no soldier. I have no combat training for all of this. I've made some serious mistakes in the past couple of hours... shit that I'm not sure we'll be able to recover from." Yeah. I was crude, but so what? If you were stranded God knows how far from home, and the only one you could talk to was a fictional alien vixen whom you were helping to escape a possibly lethal situation... wouldn't you be a little peeved, too?

'It's okay... I'm not a soldier, either." Krystal gave a sigh of relief as we finally make it up the ramp. "I feel like I let those Earthwalkers down... I didn't do enough to help them." She gave another sigh... this one I could tell was of defeat.

"We did what we could." I shot back. "Right now we're alive, and that's what counts. You don't know the whole story, and we really don't have the time to dwell on it right here." Yeah, I was probably an asshole. I cared a little bit more about survival than making Krystal feel better... but what was I going to do? Sugarcoat things? Lie and say everything was rainbows and clovers? No. If she was telepathic, she would sniff that bullshit out in no time flat.

"But I don't even know you! Where do we start this... how do we defeat Scales?" Krystal inquired... all very good questions, but a chittering sound down the next hallway caused me to stop. It was most likely one of those tentacle things I remembered from the game.

"Sssh." I hushed her, my mind instantly concentrating on the sights of my handgun. I wasn't about to let one of those bastards get the drop on us. It only took a few seconds for the thing to round the corner. In the game it looked innocuous enough, but in reality it looked like a jellyfish had reproduced with a tentacle beast in an X-rated comic book. The major difference was that those tentacles were covered in small barbs, and very likely poisonous. Not good. Not good at all.

I reacted instantly, my weapon's sights snapping up to the thing's 'braincase' and snapping off a pair of shots. I was hoping the thing would have deflated like a popped water balloon, but it didn't. A mixture of pink and blue fluids streamed from the two holes I put in the creature, but it still kept on coming. "Fuck!" I cursed, shocked that two .45ACP bullets had failed to stop it.

Krystal, however, had other ideas. She rushed past me, wrapping her paw around my arm in an iron grip as she tugged me along, simply bum-rushing the creature before it had time to react. I was pulled along for the ride, managing to fire off a few more shots at it as we passed. I wasn't sure if I hit it, because she kept on running. "We need to get out of the building, now!" Her voice was full of determination, but I could tell she was afraid of something. That wasn't good.

The source of her fear became apparent, as I heard a familiar roar coming from the passageway we had just erupted from. Somehow that invisible beast had broken through the stone door, and we were being chased once more. The pit of fear sunk in my own gut as I tried to keep pace with the frantic vixen.

We scrambled over a small pile of rubble to emerge outside, once again in the torrential rain which surrounded the palace. I recognized the place very well; this was where Krystal had entered the palace from in the first place, and also where she was dropped off by Kyte, the Cloudrunner. I just now understood what she was afraid of. Would her ride be here?

She practically pulled me up a set of stone steps, avoiding piles of bluish-purple goo; the remains of the same kind of creature I had pumped full of lead not ten seconds ago. We were now on the same platform that she had landed on earlier. The place was quite large; about twice the size of my house. There was enough room to maneuver, as well as columns to hide behind.

"I really hope you know what you're doing!" I shouted over the din of the storm, putting away my pistol as I did so. My hand brushed the stock of my shotgun, making sure the weapon would be ready at an instant's notice. "We don't have a lot of time before that badass catches up to us!"

"I don't see him!" Krystal snarled; a sound which surprised me. She never sounded angry in any of the games, but she was genuinely angry at what was going on. "He said he'd wait for me!" That was different from events in the game, where she told him to take off without her.

My hands slid the shotgun from its perch on my backpack, preparing myself mentally for what could have been a nearly impossible fight. I had a sudden, fervent wish that I was carrying something more powerful in the weaponry department than a 12-gauge shotgun. Sitting behind something full auto and at least 7.62mm would have been a whole lot more comforting. Of course, that wasn't going to turn my Remington into an HK G3A3; I had to deal with what I had brought to the party.

"I can't sense him!" Krystal growled. I couldn't see her as I was already aiming my weapon towards the stairs, but I could hear a mixture of anger and fear in her voice. "He's not here!"

"Who the hell are you talking about!?" I shouted, trying to keep my concentration firmly fixed on the stairway. I already knew who she was talking about, but if I slipped and mentioned something I shouldn't I'd have a suspicious vixen on my hands.

"His name is Kyte! He's a Cloudrunner who is trying to work against Scales. He's the one who flew me here in the first place!" Krystal replied, her tone of voice not changing one bit. Something was happening completely out of plan to both of us; the facts that Kyte wasn't around and I hadn't been picked up by the Warpstone yet made me think something was wrong. "How did you get to the Palace? Do you have a ship?" that inquiry caused me to shake my head.

"No... it was the Warpstone; he's the one who transported me here! However, I'm not sure if he can tell if I've finished my business here or not! I don't know how to contact him!" I replied, my hands continuing their white-knuckle grip on my Remington. I felt like I was about to break my weapon in half just waiting for them.

"Maybe I can reach him!" The vixen responded, although the tone of her voice spiked with fear. "They're here! Get ready!" I could hear snarling and growling from below; a mixture of angry Sharpclaw voices. There was nowhere to go, nowhere to run. It came down to the two of us against whatever Scales had stationed here.... The odds were pretty grim.

I took a split instant to snatch my Taurus out of its holster, presenting the weapon to Krystal. I hoped it wasn't a bad tactical move, but another shooter might improve our chances; that and she was unarmed. "Just point it at the target, line up the center notch of the front sight between the back ones, and pull the trigger! You have seven shots, make them count!"

I felt her remove the .357 from my hands, and I resumed gripping onto the shotgun. "Get behind me! Pick off any that try to flank us!" She probably read my mind as she pressed her back to mine. The growling intensified and I started hearing heavy footfalls upon the stone steps.

They emerged into view like a flood. I was never a pious man, but I uttered a quick prayer; simply hoping to somehow get out alive. I didn't want to die like this. There must have been twenty Sharpclaw rushing up toward us, the shimmering, nearly-invisible profile of their unknown leader coming up from behind.

My finger tightened upon the shotgun's trigger, my aim shifting to the shimmering figure. The rain made it easy to spot him, splashing off of unseen surfaces and creating a useful mirage as an aimpoint as if he wasn't invisible. Suddenly, I felt my stomach cramping up, the queasy feeling continuing as a tingle started shooting up my entire body. I tried to concentrate on the sight of my shotgun, but it was becoming translucent.

A swirling array of colors replaced the frightening scene as the Sharpclaw closed in. I didn't even get to fire a shot.