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Chapter 5: Butterfly Effect.

I wandered into the cellar, thankful that I had grabbed my flashlight. With the power not working and nightfall having arrived it would be a nightmare to navigate. I flicked it on to stare down into the packed, unfinished storage area that comprised the house's basement.

What I found instead was pure chaos. It was as if a bomb went off under my house and left a crater where most of the concrete floor had been. I was picking through rubble and boxes of junk I had stored from my previous house, when my flashlight hit something I didn't think I'd find down here.

My uncle was supposed to move his gun safe to his fiancé's house a couple of weeks ago. He had even said he would have been by last Saturday to do so; a day I was out with friends. I hadn't had the occasion to be in the basement until now. That meant the majority of his firearms were here, as well as mine. He was also looking after a coworker's guns as well, since he was undergoing a nasty divorce and didn't want his psychotic wife selling them or shooting him with them. After going through a similar ordeal a few months ago, I couldn't say I blamed him.

However, the safe could have held several full-auto assault rifles and thousands of rounds of ammunition for all it would do me. I stepped around the crater and tested the handle. Locked. I didn't know the combination, and it wasn't like I could call my uncle up and ask him what it was. Shit.

With a sigh I turned my attention to the crater. Something told me I was looking at what had somehow placed me smack dab into the middle of _StarFox Adventures._Hell, I even had Krystal changing upstairs, and I wondered if in the slim chance I got back to Earth anyone would believe any of this. I'm pretty sure some depraved person would believe me and think I tried to get into her pants or something. Yeah, right. I was still debating if this was all a figment of my imagination or not.

I shined my flashlight down into the crater and caught a glimpse of metal in the bottom of it. Gingerly I lowered myself down into the hole, perhaps four feet or so. I reached down and tugged at the piece of metal, surprised to find a good-sized lockbox entangled in a tree root. It took me extracting my Swiss Army knife and sawing away several chunks of tree root, but I got the crushed, dented lockbox free. I'd take it back up a little later and look at it in the daylight, but for now I needed to hunt for any supplies I could find down here to help us.

Even though my uncle had officially moved out a few months before, a good chunk of his stuff was still there; the product of moving into a place with a smaller basement. If I could be labeled a gun nut he was an entire Planters factory; he was involved in several different types of hunting and sport shooting. I had sat down here countless times, watching him reload his own ammunition.

Wandering into the small back room that held my uncle's workshop and reloading tools, I was relieved to find that he hadn't taken most of it. However, the majority of his stuff was .223 Remington and 6mm. If I could get a hold of an M16 I'd have more usable ammo than I could shake a stick at; he had at least two thousand rounds loaded in ammo tins and coffee cans for varmint hunting purposes. His coworker's ammo was stored back there; seven-hundred 7.62x39mm rounds for an AK, five-hundred 9x19mm, and a few boxes of 7mm Magnum. I had hit the mother lode back there, but the problem was that I couldn't use any of it. None of my weapons fired the stuff.

The back of the room held some success, though. I found an entire duffel bag full of shotgun shells and another loaded with various tactical equipment; probably the coworker's by the looks of it. John was one of those survivalist types; a little nutty but he was prepared for just about anything. I also collected a few boxes of .38 rounds from some shelves in the back; that would fuel the Taurus I gave Krystal. Besides some .22, I couldn't find anything else I could use.

There was no way I was getting into that gun safe, either. Attempting to shoot the lock off would just trip a safety mechanism and lock me out anyway. It was too tough to hammer through, also; I doubted Krystal's staff could put a dent in it. I knew that safe held John's AK clone, a couple of handguns, several shotguns and a few custom hunting rifles that could look at a military sniper rifle and laugh, but there was no way of getting to them. However, it was a safe bet that between that safe and the two sturdy, locked metal fire doors that led into the basement in the first place, the Sharpclaw weren't about to get them either.

I glanced through the things I had sitting down here as well, even though I didn't have any firearms or ammo down here. After digging through a side room that held boxes of my old stuff from years ago, I saw something propped against the wall: an old sword I had purchased at a garage sale years ago. I doubted it would do me much good, but I grabbed it anyway. Loaded down with the duffel bags, lockbox, and sword, I started to make my way up.

I stopped when I saw her silhouette framed in the doorway. Once again I had to admit; take away the anthropomorphic attributes and by our standards she had a pretty attractive body. However I saw at once what she was holding in her left paw... my DS. My mind raced; what had I played last? Oh, fuck.

"You and I need to talk." Krystal's voice was all business as I hauled my findings outside, locking the doors as I went. She had dressed in a set of my jeans and one of my AIC concert T-shirts, making the image even more surreal. "You need to explain this to me, and you need to explain it well." Her tone of voice was somewhere between angry and righteously pissed, and I was pretty sure I knew why.

"You fired that game up, didn't you?" Her nod spurred me on. "I guess you have a lot of questions, and I'm not even sure how to answer them." I took a deep breath and moved to the steps leading up to the house, taking a seat upon them. I motioned for her to sit as well, which she surprised me by doing so. I glanced into her eyes, noticing the tears she was trying to hold back.

"Am I just... this, where you come from? A fictional character? One who gets stepped on and stabbed in the back?" She shoved the DS in my face, its screen stuck on a scene in _Command's_prologue: the one where she had tears in her eyes, turning away from Fox. The tears falling from her emerald eyes and soaking into her fur mirrored the game's art with uncanny accuracy; it was like looking into a sad reflection.

I couldn't tell anything except the truth. "Yes. Where I come from, this is all a game. I don't know why I'm here. Until this morning, all of this was computer code and a story cooked up by some Japanese game developer." I took a deep breath, echoing my frustration out to her. "Until then, I would fire up this game and use Fox to beat Sharpclaw up with your staff. Now they're out to bash my head in, and instead of beating them in a damned game I'm pumping them full of buckshot."

"What does all of this even mean?" She inquired, lowering her head and looking away. "Finding out that you're some character in a game; that your life's story has already been written by someone else?" Her voice started soft and pained, but as she spoke her anger grew into a full-on growl. It was frightening. "This planet, no, this entire system has been through full-scale war! Millions have died here; even I know that! And your race treats it like entertainment? What sort of sick, depraved creatures _are_you!?" By the end of it she was just about in my face, her features filled with anger.

I went on the offensive. "Well, excuse me for thinking this was a damned piece of fiction rather than someone's reality! It's not like my species hasn't been through similar atrocities, either!" Seeing her emerald eyes still boring into mine gave me cause to continue, if at least to set the record straight. "None of us had any fucking clue that this was _really_going on; it was all a game's storyline! Maybe if the designers of said game had an idea that this is actually real and they're profiting from it, yes it is wrong... but don't blame me for that as I didn't know it was real until I almost had my head hacked off this morning!"

The vixen sighed at me, the fact she was quite exasperated apparent on her features. "Then if this is really a game... what was going to happen to me?" Her inquiry cut like a knife. "What else is going to happen to me, other than being betrayed by a famous space merc? You owe me at least that." Despite being angry and the tears still streaming down her face, she still faced me. She had guts; very likely a better serving of them than I did, at any rate.

But, could I really tell her? I had to explain that, first. "Before I begin, there's something I need to explain. There's a movie--an entertainment program of sorts--that explains this quite well." The vixen blinked tears from her eyes and looked up at me, expectantly.

"In the movie, the main character finds out he can go back to several points in his past; points at which he could potentially change the future. However, changing it has drastic effects. With one choice he inadvertently kills the one he loves; in another he is severely maimed and his life is ruined. His attempts at making things better always comes with a hidden cost; one which is usually worse than how things were supposed to be." I paused for a moment to let that sink in. "My knowledge of future events in the Lylat System is potentially dangerous. My presence here is already changing things around, and not for the better. I just don't know how much, yet."

"How are you changing things?" She paused for a moment, her expression changing as she thought it through. I really didn't know if that was a shocked look or if she was completely furious, but she put two and two together pretty quickly. "You rescued me from the beast in the Palace! I was supposed to be captured by it, and you rescued me. But... why? If that changes things drastically, why did you?"

It was my turn to sigh. "Because I need your help, Krystal. I've played this game a few times before. I know what to do and where to go to do it. But, I'm just one person. I'm not a trained, experienced mercenary like Fox. I don't have your experience, either. I work at a damn gift shop, for Christ's sake. I just happen to keep a weapon for self-defense and others for going out with my friends for some target practice. That's it. I don't know the language here and I can't blunder my way through it, either."

"Alright." She sighed, casting her gaze to the stars before returning it back to me. It was quite strange, actually; her expressions and mannerisms were human, even though she very obviously wasn't. "I'm a Guardian and I'm bound by duty to help you, especially since you are attempting to help the Saurians overthrow their tyrant." She paused for a moment, locking her eyes with mine. "I have one condition, however: I want you to tell me what you know about me."

I closed my eyes. She was a telepath and could find out the entire story anyway. I really didn't want to tip my hand on this too quickly, but if she was willing to help then I could at least tell her the truth. "Okay. Make yourself comfortable, then. This may take a while." Krystal nodded, and I started her tale. "In the games, not much is known about you before about up to the point we met. You're from a planet called Cerinia, you're a telepath, and you're searching for whoever killed your parents. Speculation is that your entire planet was destroyed, but you'd obviously know better than me if that happened."

The mention of that caused her to look down, shaking her head as she did so. "No... Cerinia isn't destroyed. I may be a Guardian, but my parents were high-ranking nobility in my society..." she paused for a moment and looked up at me. "I was what your kind would have called a princess, though I rejected the title and trappings. It was what saved my life."

My unspoken question didn't go unanswered, which made me aware of the fact she wasn't holding back her telepathic abilities, either. "My own story would take a while, too... and it's filled with pain. All you really need to know is that I'm chasing those responsible for attacking my home and killing my parents."

"Alright." I responded. It didn't take her abilities to understand that she really didn't want to talk about it. "My presence at the palace changed two things. One of them was you." I paused for a moment, trying to dredge up the complete story from the back of my mind. "That thing would have thrown you into the path of that beam, where you would have been imprisoned in that massive jewel."

Krystal shuddered as she heard that news. "So... I would have been trapped in there? There's not much space for air; I could have suffocated within hours, or starved to death. T... thank you for saving me from that fate." The anger and edge behind her voice softened considerably.

"That Krazoa spirit you released kept you alive. Meanwhile, an Earthwalker managed to fire off a distress signal that reached Corneria. Upon hearing it, the leader of the Cornerian military, General Pepper, decides to hire the Star Fox team, consisting of Fox, Slippy, and Peppy."

"Ordered not to use blasters, Fox soon finds the staff you dropped on your way to the Palace. Using it, he ends up recovering the Spellstones which kept this planet together as well as collecting the Krazoa spirits. He discovers your plight and he frees you. After the final battle to free Sauria, he invites you to come with them and join the Star Fox team."

"Wait." Krystal interrupted. "You said you changed two things. What was the second?"

"I came across a group of Sharpclaw who killed an Earthwalker near some Lylatian equipment. I think the fact that they were up against an unknown with some firepower spooked them and they were trying to lay an ambush. Either way, that Earthwalker got caught in the middle. I had the element of surprise so I decided to attack; in the process I missed one and hit the equipment with a shotgun blast."

"The equipment was likely the communications gear." Krystal finished. "That means we're on our own, here. Star Fox isn't coming. We may be the only ones able to stop General Scales and save the lives of all these Saurians."

"Exactly." I glanced up to the night sky. It was late, but I blamed the interstellar equivalent of jet lag as my body was telling me it was late in the afternoon. I hadn't been here long enough to tell if Sauria had extremely short days; in the game an entire day/night cycle lasted perhaps half an hour or so. "That pretty much covers what was supposed to happen to you in the next several days."

"So you know what's supposed to happen next, right?" Krystal inquired, looking to the myriad of equipment I had brought up from the basement. "What did you find down there? Anything that can help us?"

"It was kind of a crap shoot." I gestured to the pile. "There's a few more weapons down there, but they're locked in a safe and I can't get to them. I found a bag of what might be gear and some extra ammunition, but precious little else." I bent over and picked up the lockbox, hefting it in my hands. "And then there's this. It was apparently buried beneath my house, but was laying at the bottom of a crater that was somehow created down there."

"You think what's inside brought you here." Her statement carried an air of finality to it, but her next took the cake. "I'm sensing something from it, but it's very faint. This is either a very powerful artifact that has already been used, or one which was pretty weak to begin with. She held her paws out to me, gesturing for the box. "May I?"

I shrugged and passed the box over to her. The padlock was already mostly rusted away; it took her only a stiff tug to break it off. Her gasp of surprise as she opened it caused me to startle; she apparently recognized what was within.

The object was once some sort of globe, made of clay and decorated with intricate runes and other symbols. It looked like it was a set piece from some sort of New Age television show, had the crushing action from years of assault from tree roots not crushed the box enough to break it into several large chunks. A folded, tattered piece of paper also lay within, but Krystal's incredulous expression and gasp of shock tore me away from examining the note.

"The markings! This is Cerinian!" The vixen picked up a few of the chunks and gave them further scrutiny. The brownish-tan shards revealed much more to her gaze than it did mine, although her accusation that it was from her homeworld was puzzling. "The language is quite archaic, but it seems to be some sort of transportation object."

"Meaning what?" I replied, starting to unfold the paper. It was brittle and yellowed with countless years of age. The script upon it was in English, yet the very tight, delicate handwriting wasn't a style which was used very often these days. John's new girlfriend was a major enthusiast of Victorian clothing and practices; her handwriting was very similar to what I was seeing. "The sixty-four thousand dollar question right now is how a Cerinian artifact managed to get buried under my house, wouldn't you agree?"

The vixen nodded, casting a puzzled gaze to the note in my hands. "There is much I don't know about our history, Adam. This looks to be the work of some sort of spiritual sect, perhaps an offshoot which was labeled as heretical and banned by the High Priests as well as the Guardians. The fact that this object was on your world suggests Cerinians either visited or sent these objects to other worlds. Something like this would have been removed and buried very deeply." Her emerald eyes meant mine, a worried expression taking place on her features. "You have to understand. This kind of knowledge is extremely dangerous. If someone discovered the knowledge to jump from world to world it could cost us dearly. We would have destroyed every trace of this knowledge, by force if necessary."

That was a sobering thought. It was highly unlikely anyone on Cerinia, including Krystal, had any clue how to send me back home. To say that wasn't a good sign would be an understatement. "Yet if this is a Cerinian artifact, why was I sent here rather than there? Unless they were set to put whoever used them on Sauria for some reason?"

"It could have been a safety measure. They may have maintained a presence here..." Krystal looked thoughtful for a moment, her tail twitching as her voice trailed off. "I would think the Krazoa might have the answer to those questions, and the next time we come across one I'll need to ask them some things."

"Sounds good, but this letter might shed some light on this mystery." I pulled the aging piece of paper apart as best I could without breaking it apart; I barely managed. Yet as I began to read, a chill shot up and down my spine.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

_ I write this to be buried with this infernal thing, this object which has caused me no end of confusion, embarrassment, and heartache over the past three months. I have ordered a few trusted men of quality to hide it; the plot of land which it will lay will be near my residence. It shall be far enough away from me to stop the nightmares and voices, but it will be close enough where it can be looked after. Such an object should not be uncovered for fear of endangering the public welfare._

_ This letter is to beseech whomever should dig this from the earth to leave it be. If that is not possible, please return it to Professor Martin Kennings at the college just up the road. If you do not, I cannot be held responsible for the madness which this object may bring. If you are not so inclined, let my story be a warning._

_ I came across this object in one of the Utah copper mines where I made my fortune. It was in a natural offshoot which turned out to be a cave system blocked by years of rubble. Thinking it to be an Indian artifact of some sort, I kept it for a museum I am planning to open in some years' time. This globe was inscribed with writing the likes of which I had never seen. I planned on discussing it with the aforementioned Professor Kennings to determine which tribe could have recovered it, or if perhaps it was an artifact brought here by the Spanish so long ago. Yet, as I studied it further I started hearing whispers; distinct voices in an indecipherable language. Intrigued, I attempted to study it further but much to my dismay the whispering worsened. The visions came perhaps a week later, nightmarish ones. I will try my best to describe them on paper, but I will admit the story is quite fantastic._

_ Imagine, if you will, a battle played out among the very stars; the vessels more majestic than even the most modern steamer in the Navy. They were ships of the air, yet not the fragile things written about in the papers back East. They exchanged volleys not of cannon fire but of pure light; the beams of light being weapons of immense force and power. Two powerful navies saw fit to battle amongst the stars. I have no insight on what the battle was for._

_ One would assume this may be a window into the future for our lot, but those behind the controls of these majestic ships of the stars were not man, they were animal. These animals walked like us, spoke like us, and fought like us; common dogs, cats, frogs, apes, and foxes fighting in these impossible craft. I cannot speculate on what this means, if this is a glimpse of the future or if this object's madness is manifesting itself in my thoughts._

_ What I do know is that Professor Keating couldn't translate the inscriptions upon it; he couldn't even wager a guess as to what language it was written in. If a man educated in language at the best halls of learning in Europe as well as Harvard and Yale cannot translate this, then perhaps nobody can. He made mention of one other possible artifact of this nature, somewhere in Russia. However, the prospect of travelling halfway across the world to chase a possibility is not to my taste. Here this object shall remain, if I have a say in it._

_ This madness nearly cost me my respect, my standing in the community which I have adopted as my own, as well as the attentions of my dear Julie. If this is found, beware this object as its visions will certainly drive your life to ruin as it has nearly mine. This is neither a lie nor is it a buried treasure of mine; this is a dangerous object! Please respect my wishes on this; you will be rewarded if you seek money, but leave this object alone! _

_ _

-S. Penrose

_ _

September 17, 1904

As I reached the end of the note, my hands trembled. I recognized the name as one of the founders of the city I lived in. He found this just sitting in a cavern his miners had broken into, and somehow gave him visions of happenings in Lylat. And, apparently, he buried it deep under land which would later hold my house. What a lucky fucking break, huh? With a sigh I folded the note back up as neatly as I could and tucked it into my wallet. Krystal sensed my change in mood and placed a paw upon my shoulder. "What's wrong?"

I shrugged her paw off and stood up. "Y'know... I'm fucked. I'm truly proper fucked here. I'm stuck in this God-forsaken hellhole, surrounded by lizardmen just itching to bash my head in. My only ally is an anthropomorphic vixen who I thought was just a video game character not even twelve hours ago. So, to answer your question? Nothing's wrong! I'm just all rainbows and butterflies here!" With a flourish I snatched up the bags and my sword then marched back into the house.

I really didn't know what to say. I was stuck here, for better or for worse. I really couldn't see how it would be any better. I just wanted for me to wake up to my alarm and get ready for work, but that wasn't going to happen. What really pissed me off was that I was right about these things. I was fucking up the events of the Lylatian timeline just by being here, and I was fucking up my own damn life while doing so.

But, who was to blame? Spencer Penrose for burying the fucking thing under my house? Some unnamed ancient Cerinian who decided to leave their calling card in some hole in Utah God knows how many years ago? Or was it me, who decided to change shit around at a chance for survival? I honestly didn't know, but I surely gave a fuck.

I dropped the bags inside my darkened living room, picked up my rifle, and stormed out of the house. I was pissed off worse than I had ever been pissed off before. I was ready to murder someone. So many things stood in the way of me getting home, and I viewed Scales and his Sharpclaw as target number one.

"Wait!" Krystal's voice shot out from behind me. "What are you doing?!" I continued out of the house, drawing back the Enfield's bolt to ensure there was a round in the chamber. I could hear her footsteps as she followed after me.

"I'm going to start making things right around here." I growled, hefting the old bolt-action in my hands. I was going to war, with Krystal or without her. "You might want to keep following me, because I have a present for you." I changed course for the copse of trees off to my right; her staff would be there. She would know how to use it much better than I would.

"What do you mean by a present? Unless you know whe..." She trailed off as I stopped next to the golden rod which jutted out of the ground like a Cerinian version of Excalibur. The staff glittered in the moonlight like a jewel from the earth, just waiting to be retrieved and used. "You... knew it would be here?" Her tone of voice was excited yet laced with disbelief; disbelief which soon faded as she pulled her weapon from its resting place. "I don't know what to say."

"You don't have to say anything." I replied, casting my eyes over to the temple-like structure ahead of us. Two torches stood to illuminate it; twin spots of light standing against the darkness. Shadowy figures lay ahead: Sharpclaw milling around. Their actions puzzled the hell out of me. They knew we were here, yet they remained content to guard the temple? The Earthwalker Queen was there, yet she was weakened and not much of a threat. Krystal was a threat due to her telepathy and hand to hand combat skills. I was a threat due to my firearms and knowledge of the game. Yet there they were, oblivious to our approach.

Krystal's paw once again found my shoulder and her voice whispered into my ear. "Wait." Her demeanor had changed like she had flipped a hidden switch; she went from confused and concerned to cold and businesslike. "We need a plan to deal with them."

"I already have a plan." I whispered back, tightening my grip on my rifle. "We're about fifty yards back and in decent concealment. I'm just going to treat this damn place like my personal shooting gallery and pick them off like flies. That stone fence around the temple will keep them from flanking us while I blow their damn guts out."

"That's what they're hoping you'll do." Krystal shot back, pointing into the inky darkness off to our right. "There's several more of them hiding in the shadows, behind that wall. They're waiting for us. If you start shooting we'll be flanked by ten of them."

"Then what do you propose we do about them? With numbers like that I'm surprised they didn't bum-rush us while we were dicking around at my place." I tucked the Enfield's stock against my shoulder as my imagination went slightly wild; I thought I saw shapes amongst the shadows ahead.

"They are afraid there's more than just us, and they're fearful of an opponent who can kill them before they can close in." The vixen's hushed voice carried experience behind it; she was decidedly not the naïve Cerinian Fox encountered in the game. I noticed that even back at the Palace; her demeanor was much calmer and more professional than I thought she would have been. She wasn't the scared vixen I wrote about or the clueless one in the games. She was confident and determined. She also had a much better grasp of her telepathic abilities than I thought. "I understand your anger and pain, but you and I must overcome it and work together if we're going to survive here."

"What do you mean?" I shot back, trying to make out details in the dark, but there were precious little to spot. The Sharpclaw were either adept at hiding or my night vision was completely shit. I suspected the latter.

I could feel her pull a little closer as she kept her voice down; I could feel her warm breath tickling my cheek as she spoke. "You're angry at having to be here, Adam. You feel lost, overwhelmed, and hold little hope of finding your way home. I can't guarantee you will, but if we work together I will do my best to keep you safe."

I let out a sigh. She had a point, but I was worked up enough to open up on the bastards, regardless. They may not have been the reason why I was here, but they were in my way. Well, our way from how she was talking. Even with my knowledge of the game as well as my firepower, I wasn't exactly breezing through things. The Shapclaw were formidable opponents, they might have been a bit on the stupid side but they had numbers and physical strength. I rescued Krystal from whatever tried to capture her; I would be stupid to refuse her help now. "Alright, you win." I grumbled. "What do we need to do?"

"We need to come up with a plan." Krystal paused for a moment, but I wasn't about to turn my attention from the waiting Sharpclaw to see what she was doing. "How far will your weapon reach?"

"I'm confident that I can nail one of them at two hundred yards with iron sights during the day, possibly three if you don't mind a couple of misses." I replied, keeping a close watch on them. "In this darkness, I don't feel too good about hitting them consistently past a hundred, and they better be well-lit. Are you thinking about moving back and popping them from a distance?"

"That might be an option, but they're guarding someone important. I can't tell who they're guarding; they might be shielded by something." I could tell a tinge of frustration crept into her Estuary accent. "They're expecting us and have orders to kill their prisoner if we attack. We need to divide their attentions, but how?"

I offered a half-baked idea to her ears. "We need to distract them enough so that they pull away from the temple. They're guarding the Earthwalker Queen; they kidnapped her son and we're going to have to rescue him after this little spat." I took my right hand off of my rifle and pointed to the ground. "I'm thinking that if we set a fire here, they'll poke out to investigate. We can then sneak between them and the queen and keep them from harming her?"

"There's bound to be a few that will remain behind. Are you willing to follow my lead?" The vixen tugged on my shoulder, motioning me to follow. I turned around to watch her lithe frame retreat into the darkness. I crept behind her as best I could, hoping like Hell I didn't make enough noise to draw the Sharpclaws' attention.

We made our way from the copse and across the creek. In the darkness I could just make out where we were headed; an ancient, crumbling building which once housed a massive well which fed Thorntail Hollow. The new location gave us another view of the temple the Sharpclaw were guarding; one which gave me a much clearer line of fire.

"I need you to stick right next to me, Adam. When we reach the stone fence, let me come in first; I can keep the ones in the courtyard occupied." As she spoke, her paw pointed out the Sharpclaw soldiers milling about in the courtyard. "The others will have a hard time getting over the fence. When you are able to, start shooting them." I started to turn towards the reptilian enemies, but Krystal stopped me by wrapping her paw around my arm. In the darkness her eyes locked onto mine, her voice remaining serious but laced with concern. "Are you sure you are ready for this? Our lives are in each others' paws; if I get overwhelmed I'll need you to rush in and help me."

I took a deep breath and nodded, my hands gripping my rifle tightly. "I'm as ready as I'm going to be, Krystal. I'm just praying I don't screw this up." All those tales I heard about going into battle were going through my mind; the ones where I had been told by family, friends, and strangers alike that if you weren't scared, you were a fool. I was scared, just like before. Yet there was no other way around it, we were going to war. "Let's just do it and be done."

"It'll be okay, don't worry." The more experienced vixen slowly moved forward, sliding into the creek and across with a fluidity of movement evocative of martial arts films. I tried to mimic her actions but couldn't; compared to her silent motions I was nearly like a bull in a china shop. I guess I did well enough that my sloshing around didn't alert any of the Sharpclaw.

By the time I had finished fording the creek Krystal had reached the stone fence. I slid into position behind her, taking the safety off my Enfield as I did so. The Cerinian reached out and placed her paw back on my shoulder, offering a reassuring smile. Even then I could tell she was ready; her entire body radiated energy as if she was a wound-up spring looking to be released.

She leaped into action, and I mean that quite literally. She launched herself into the air and came down next to the group of unsuspecting Sharpclaw like a cerulean missile sent from the heavens. Her staff collided with the ground and some sort of pressure wave shot out of it; the five lizardmen in the courtyard sent to the ground in a maelstrom of limbs and tails as she touched down.

I tucked my rifle against my shoulder and braced it against the top of the fence. Sure enough, more Sharpclaw started scrambling over the fence on the opposite side of the courtyard. I settled my sights on one and fired. The Enfield's report drowned out the rest of the battle; the Sharpclaw I targeted falling back over the fence. Forcing my fear back into the pit of my stomach, I concentrated on working the bolt and pulling the trigger.

Meanwhile, Krystal was wading through the other Sharpclaw like an angel of vengeance; her staff a blur in her paws as she deflected clumsy blows from their clubs and swords and delivered powerful, crushing attacks whenever she could see an opening. By the time I started firing she already had two of them on the ground.

The others were still piling into the courtyard. I couldn't keep up; I had sent six of them back to Hell but they still kept coming. I slammed another round into the chamber and took aim at one that was trying to creep behind her. The rifle's report and recoil rattled me as the bullet took the reptilian antagonist to the floor.

The scuffling of feet to my right snapped my attention to the battle, and I realized at least one of them was coming after me; deciding to skirt around the fence to try and flank me. I muttered a curse under my breath and swung the rifle around, working the bolt once again. My sights fell on the attacker and I pulled the trigger.

The click_produced by the firing pin striking an empty chamber somehow sounded louder than a gunshot; the realization that I had run dry at a critical moment nearly immobilized me with fear. "_Fuck!" I spat, dropping the rifle and struggling to extract my .45, scrambling backwards to futilely put distance between myself and the now charging Saurian. As if it were sent by Zeus a flaming mass streaked in from my left and into the lizard's chest, sending it to the ground as a mass of howling, smoking lizard. I filled my hand with my pistol and shot it for good measure, vaulting over the wall to return to the fray.

Krystal was facing off against the remaining four Sharpclaw, who had grown very wary of her fearsome staff and fighting skills. To be completely honest she could have probably fended off attacks from Chuck Norris and Jet Li all at once; she was _extremely_quick. Her telepathic abilities were likely a great asset to her combat skills; being able to know what your opponent's next move would be gave her a major advantage.

Her staff blocked a flurry of blows from the Sharpclaw that surrounded her, their swords, club, and spear unable to snake past her defenses. She wasn't making any headway against them, either; I assumed she was hemmed in by them when she fired at the one who attacked me. I had to help her out, so I steadied my pistol and planted its sights on one who was attempting to circle behind her. I fired two shots; the .45 barking its report into the night air. Her attacker fell backwards, allowing the vixen to once again spring to the offensive.

Her staff became a blur in her paws; the golden weapon deftly parrying her opponent's attacks while delivering crushing counterattacks. One Sharpclaw received a vicious swat on the forearm; the sound of bones cracking carrying to my ears even above its howl of pain. That howl was cut short by her staff viciously connecting with its throat; another sound of snapping bones announced the Saurian's departure from the living world.

I stood there, my body tensing up as I saw her motions. Seeing her in action was somewhat unnerving; it was as if she was a completely different person in combat than she was normally... although I had known her for a grand total of a few hours which meant there was no 'normal' I could base her behavior on. The blows she landed on the other Sharpclaw were brutal and efficient; she dispatched them both within seconds. Her cold emerald eyes scanned the silent courtyard before falling upon me. "Good work." Her response still carried that cold professionalism behind it. "Thank you with that last one; I wasn't sure how long I'd last being surrounded like that."

"Jesus." I breathed, surveying the damage. We had both held our own; seven Sharpclaw had fallen to her staff and another seven by my gunfire. "I didn't think you were so... skilled." My voice or my thoughts betrayed the mix of awe and trepidation behind my words, as she was quick to respond.

"We're not saints, Adam. Guardians train to protect the innocent against bandits, rogue nobles, dangerous beasts, and the forces of evil. In order to do that we cannot show mercy to our opponents unless they yield." As I approached, her eyes locked onto mine; her gaze cold yet determined. "You're living by the same mantra. Kill or be killed."

That cinched it. She was definitely not the naïve, inexperienced vixen that the game portrayed. She had a hell of a lot more combat experience and training than I did, at any rate. Either way I was glad she was on my side of the equation; with skills like that I really didn't want to run into her in a dark alley at midnight. "I guess what's left for us to do is talk to the Queen Earthwalker and go rescue her son."

Krystal gave me a nod, glancing around at the Sharpclaw bodies littering the ground. I did the same, my mind not particularly at ease with the carnage we had created. They were the enemy, but at the same time they were also caught up in this whole sordid mess.

I did a double-take as one of the bodies seemed to fade out of existence. The others soon followed suit, prompting me to turn around to find the battlefield littered with their weapons and bloodstains. "How in the hell...?" I inquired, my mind now officially blown. I thought that little detail was simply something in the game code and not something replicated in reality.

"It's the magical energies on Sauria, Adam." Krystal's explanation carried to my ears like a judge's verdict. "Whenever someone dies here, the planet's energies simply absorbs the body; a form of recharge. It's similar to how our High Priests back on Cerinia offered themselves to powerful artifacts or totems; their bodies help fuel them. It's similar to how my staff works."

"So your weapon works off of lifeforces or something like that?" I inquired, shooting her a puzzled look. "Like a vampire?" I hated to admit it, but if that was true I'd be keeping the hell away from that thing.

"Not exactly." The vixen pondered a moment, looking just like a college professor who had been asked a very tough question. "The staff channels my own energy, but it doesn't sap it away. It takes years of training to use one effectively, but someone not trained in its use can power it using certain magical storage devices." At that last part she locked her eyes on mine. "If we come across one I will point it out to you, just in case you need to use it."

"You do realize that I'd more likely kill myself with that thing before even taking one of them out, right?" I wasn't exaggerating. The reason why that sword sat in my basement instead of hanging up in my room was due to a rather nasty incident that happened years ago. I slammed it into my knee while trying to teach myself how to use it; fortunately it was as dull as a butter knife which meant it hadn't taken my leg off. After half an hour of writhing on the floor I put it into storage and subsequently forgot about it. "Given the choice I'd rather plug them and be done with it."

I thought I heard a sigh echo from her lips, but I wasn't sure. "Your weapons will run out of ammunition eventually, and as you said that safe will be very hard to get into. You might not know how to use a weapon such as this, but you must learn how to. It will be the difference between surviving and dying."

"But for now I'd rather prop up my lack of skill by taking shots at them from a distance." I shook my head and turned away, giving her one last glance before taking a step towards the house. "Make sure the Queen Earthwalker's okay. I'm going back to the house."

"Why?" Her voice betrayed her puzzlement, that as well as a little bit of irritation.

"Gotta find a coat and gloves for you. I hope you're prepared for ice and snow, because we're headed up there." I stabbed a finger at a silhouette in the distance; we were about to tackle Ice Mountain in a few moments and I hoped to God that we were ready for it.