"Miss Toliver! Stop that whispering in my ear!"

The pretty turtle lady looked up and rolled her eyes at the bear on the scaffolding above her.

"Growler, I'm down here," she reminded him. "How could I possibly have whispered in your ear?"

"Er . . . I dunno, Miss Toliver," rumbled Growler as he peered over the edge of the wooden platform. "I just thought I heard a voice, you know, and figured that it must be you right up next to me." He grinned down at her. "Just wishful thinking, I guess."

Toliver Pettigrowse giggled softly, and then began to ascend the hastily-erected scaffold that her ursine friend was using.

"I think you need some help up there," she called up to him as she pulled herself onto his level and surveyed his handiwork. "There isn't much I can do down there anyway."

Growler looked a little embarrassed as Toliver looked over his work and then looked him in the eyes with raised eyebrows and a smirk. She picked up part of the tangle of wires that he had been trying to install in the ceiling of one of the entrances to the Mobian Underground.

"I take it, then, that this is the state-of-the-art security system that we're installing?" she queried innocently.

"Er . . ." Growler looked down at his feet, blushing visibly through his fur, "I've been having some trouble concentrating on my work."

"Uh-huh, so I see." Toliver scooped up the jumble of circuits and wires that had gradually accumulated at her bear boyfriend's feet and quickly and efficiently found places for them in the crevice he had hollowed out of the rock wall and ceiling. She took the soldering iron he had been holding and cooly finished the work he had begun, then stepped back so they both could admire her handiwork. Growler shook his head in astonishment.

"Miss Toliver, you never stop amazin' me."

"Hmm, thanks," replied the turtle, looking at Growler. "Is that why you like me? Because I amaze you?"

Growler blinked.

"Uh, you know, I never thought of that. I guess it's one reason, yeah."

"Then what do you think would happen if I stopped amazing you?"

The bruin scratched his head for a moment, then grinned.

"You know, I don't think that'll ever happen."

The main circuit work done, Growler pulled a small green orb out of one of the pouches hanging from his belt and hooked it up to the few remaining unused wires. Finishing that, he picked up a trowel and bucket of plaster sitting near the edge of the scaffold and within a short time filled in the hole, leaving only half of the green sphere protruding from the side of the wall. Taking some of the dust that had accumulated while he was drilling the hole for the circuits they had installed, Growler rubbed it into the wet plaster, making it look more like the grey of the surrounding wall.

"There, that oughta keep anybody from noticin' the sensor," said Growler happily, dusting his paws off on his overalls.

"This idea of yours might be a lifesaver, Growler," said Toliver, putting an arm around his waist, a gesture which he happily reciprocated. Then the two of them just stood there, side by side, facing the wall but not really seeing it as they were caught up in their own thoughts.

"Credit for your thoughts," said Growler, still facing the wall.

Toliver looked down.

"I . . . I was wondering what got you so interested in security all of a sudden. You've always been so easygoing," she grinned, "some might even say you're lazy when you can get away with it."

"Guilty as charged," chuckled Growler.

"Then why are you so interested in boosting security around the tunnels? I've never known you to do this kind of thing before." She looked up at the towering brown bear, her face concerned. "Something's wrong. What's bothering you?"

Growler scowled as he thought. For some reason the right words just didn't come at once, and he mulled over the best way to share what he felt. What he needed to tell Miss Toliver.

"It's not something I really have words for, you know?" he began. "But you see, when that owl lady started to come here I started to feel edgy, kinda off my feed, so to speak. There's something going on, Miss Toliver, and I don't know what it is. Something big. It scares me some. And when I get scared, I gotta do something to make me feel safe. That's one of the reasons we're out here puttin' up cameras and such. That owl, Oracle, or whatever her name is, she's in the middle of somethin', and whatever it is, it's a lot bigger than me. Bigger than the whole Underground, even. Something's about to happen, and there's gonna be changes. Griff doesn't seem to feel it, or if he does he thinks it's all gonna turn out in our favor. Well, I'm not so sure about that. I think part of that something is coming to the Underground, and I want us to live through it. I've been thinkin' a lot recently, more'n I'm used to, you know. Thinkin' about the future."

Toliver frowned as Growler talked, rubbing his back in a soothing way.

"And what did you get out of that thinking?"

Growler smiled and put his arm around his turtle-friend's shoulders.

"I decided I've got a lot to live for."

The turtle returned the smile, and suddenly the pair were facing each other, looking into each other's eyes as their hands met.

"Is this the other reason we're out here?" whispered Toliver as they held each other tight, as if they would never let go.

Growler grinned.

"Well, you know."

* * *

Sir Charles Hedgehog looked out over the vast metal army assembled in the massive cavern below the Parade Grounds near the Royal Palace. He was still hanging from the metal rails that he had used to climb down after the platform that had borne the soldiers. Several other tunnels were bored into the rock walls of the natural cavern, leading to points unknown. Charles had known, as all the top-ranking officers of the court had known, about the labyrinthine tunnels and passages below the city of Mobotropolis. When the city had been first built the founders had discovered a large tunnel system underneath the site they had chosen. At first it had been used merely as a sewer, a place to bury the dead, and as a location for clandestine meetings. Everyone knew that if you wanted to hide and never be found you went below. Soon there was a significant minority that had begun to live in the tunnels, away from the prying eyes of the law and from the tax collectors. But gradually the Royal house had taken notice of the Underground, as it had started to be called even then. Instead of limiting movement to the caverns, however, the House of Acorn had expanded it, and had begun a small city below the city as well as paving the cave floors and adding more modern sewer pipes and additional, artificial tunnels. Only the Royal Ministers of Public Works could even guess at the full extent of Mobotropolis' Underground, and most of what they knew they kept secret. Part of that secret had been the series of tunnels that had allowed the escape of the Freedom Fighters to Knothole, but there were many other tunnels that nobody had ever been down. The full extent of the Underground had never been fully explored, not even by the most trusted servants of the Royal house. Not even Robotnik knew everything about the tunnels underneath his conquered city, though he had certainly tried to learn as much as he could.

Charles looked at the Robo Rats as their metal noses quivered, the sensitive chemical sensors working hard to pick up any trace of organic life. The metal hedgehog was grateful not for the first time that he was no longer flesh and blood. He doubted he would have even been able to make the climb down the long metal shaft that led to the assembly cavern if he'd been in his old body. Of course, that was the reason he had invented the roboticizer in the first place: to relieve the pains of old age. With that thought, Sir Charles once more cursed the day he had dared to attempt to overcome what Nature had decreed. Because of his failed endeavor almost the whole of the population of Mobius were now metal slaves to the traitor Robotnik. He had never forgiven himself for what he had done, however innocently, and doubted there would ever be any way for him to make up for even a portion of the suffering he had caused.

But that's why I'm here, isn't it, thought Charles. To try and make up for some of my sin.

As Charles continued to watch, the five Supervisor SWATbots barked orders to the Robo Rats in their company, and the Rats quickly scurried off, each darting down one of the tunnels that ringed the walls. Their purpose was clear: scout around and find the Underground City of Mobotropolis. And when they found it . . .

They won't get the chance, thought Charles, his jaw setting determinedly. Dropping from the upward-bound tunnel into the shadows at the rear of the hundred metal soldiers, he began to creep around the cavern wall, keeping himself behind stalagmites and limestone columns when he could. His goal was one of the side tunnels, only a short distance from where he had first landed. Just a few more feet . . .

"Attention! Who's out of line back there?" snarled a cruel voice. It was the voice of Robotnik, muted slightly as it came through the metal speaker of a Supervisor. It seemed the Lord of the Death Egg had worked to magnify his ego by putting his own voice into his newest creations.

Stay focused, Charles told himself. Don't panic. Keep moving.

"I asked you a question. SWATbots 564 and 565, apprehend that short circuit and bring it here where I can see it better."

NOW!

The Royal Knights had always been the elite bodyguard of the Royal House. While many of them were scholars first and foremost like Sir Charles, none of them were exempt from the rigorous training that kept them in fighting form. That training now came into play as Sir Charles Hedgehog, master inventor and special advisor to the king, took off at a speed that would have drawn the momentary notice of even his blue-quilled nephew.

"Gun him down!" screeched the Supervisor, and the air around Charles was suddenly filled with beams of green and red death as the SWATbots nearest to him opened up with their wrist lasers and blaster rifles. But they were too late, for in a flash Charles dove into the darkness of the tunnel, tucking himself into a ball as he rolled away into the shadows. He came back up to his feet in an instant and kept on running until the ranting of the Supervisor and the crackling of the energy weapons was far behind him.

Now, thought Charles as he went deeper into the maze of tunnels, where did those old maps say the Underground was located?

* * *

Griff walked through the streets of the Underground, nodding and smiling as he passed the citizens of the city. His city, he reminded himself, for the responsibilities of rulership fell squarely on his young shoulders. It had been so long ago, and yet he could still remember the day when his father had been made the mayor of the Underground City of Mobotropolis. The young goat had been seven at the time, just two years older than Princess Acorn. Thinking of the princess, Griff chuckled as he remembered the times he had overheard his father and the king discuss the possibility of betrothing the princess to the mayor's son. That would make Sally blush if she knew it! Not that Griff would ever tell her, of course. The times just weren't right anymore. Perhaps they never would be again.

Mout, his father, had been a great man, a general who had served for many years and had fought the Eastern Mobians with skill and courage. He had been forced to retire his position when a stray shell landed in his camp, the shrapnel taking out both his eyes. Nevertheless, while a general needed his eyes, a mayor didn't. Especially not the mayor of a people who lived underground. The people had cheered as their new mayor received the key to the city from the king, and then fallen silent to listen to him speak, waiting and judging this new being who would be their ruler, testing him to see if he was worthy of their respect. When the speech ended the silence was so thick for almost five whole minutes you could cut it with a knife, and then the crowd went wild! Griff remembered looking at his father's face then. Under the black strip of cloth that covered the buck goat's eyes was a smile. Small, and yet it was most certainly a smile. At that moment Griff realized what his father was feeling: the joy and weight of having a people trust you. At the time he had envied his father for having gained such a treasure. Later he would come to regret that envy.

When the fall of Mobotropolis came, Mout had reacted quickly with all the strategy and intellect that he could bring to bear to get as much of his city's population as he could out of the reach of the tyrant that had arisen before the robots started to march into the city. Griff, now eight, had been sent along with the first group of evacuees. He never saw his father again. Meeting up with a few straggling groups of escapees, the last of the Underground Mobians hurried for as fast and as far as they could into the tunnels, seeking to get as far away as possible from the SWATbots, whose metal footsteps still echoed in Griff's mind. The adults were near panic, and the children were most certainly there, each of them having the air of a non-anthropomorphic rabbit trapped in its burrow, knowing that it is only a matter of time before it's hunters dig it out.

In that moment, at the time of greatest despair when all seemed lost, Griff stepped forward. At first the Mobians listened only because his father had been their mayor and a great leader. But as the kid spoke, gradually they began to listen because what he said made sense. Soon Griff had the refugees organized and moving again, this time in a calm and controlled fashion. Growler and Toliver had been sixteen and seventeen, respectively, at that time, and there had been a number of others in that group who were now among his trusted advisors and friends. Working together, the Mobians went in deliberate circles through the caves, covering the traces of their course, and back-tracking when possible, all in an effort to confuse their mechanical pursuers. Through some miracle it worked. Though the robots were heard many times, and once they had seen the dead body of a Mobian they had caught, the Mobians in Griff's care were never found.

Eventually the ragged band of Underground Mobians made their way back to their city. The robots were everywhere, having occupied the whole populated Underground area and set up a Roboticizer, into which the citizens of the Underground were rapidly being fed. Working from the tunnels around the city and using the ducts and sewers that burrowed their way into the cavern walls, Griff directed a systematic plundering of Underground Mobotropolis, stealing and salvaging everything they could carry, and even freeing some of the trapped citizens. Finally, when they had done all they could do, the Underground Mobians left, going still deeper into the tunnels that lined the underside of Mobotropolis. Eventually they had come across the huge cavern that was now their home. In time they had built a new city, a new home until they could take back their old one. Their first raid on the Surface had been a small-scale attack on one of Robotnik's early mining operations on the outskirts of Mobotropolis. It was from this raid that they obtained their first power stone, one of the rare natural crystals that formed when the Magic that kept Mobius alive took a solid shape. With some work and a lot of stealing technology from the surface they had hooked up this treasure as the power source of their city, the only sun in their darkened world. There was only one election held at the formal founding of the new Underground. In that election Griff was chosen unanimously to be their leader.

That had been years ago, and Griff had been a good leader. He hoped his father, wherever he was now, would be proud of what he had done. He admitted to himself that his attempt to steal the Power Crystal from the Freedom Fighters hadn't been right, but he didn't see any other option at the time. His people came first, and he would do anything for them, just as they would do the same for him. The blue hedgehog, Sonic, had made an excellent compromise, breaking the crystal in half and sharing the power. This had served the Underground well, and Griff found that he felt better knowing that the light and power of his city was freely given, and not stolen from friends, losing an ally that might have been useful in the future.

But these thoughts of the past had to be put aside as Griff came to the little house that was his home and the place where he caught the few hours of sleep that the stress of running the city allowed him. A mouse, only about ten years old, had run up to Griff just minutes before, bearing the news that the owl had returned from the Tombs, and that there was a strange new person with her. As Griff had given the owl permission to use his house as a resting place in the past, they had gone there to wait for him. Opening the door, the goat stepped inside and surveyed the dimly lit interior of his home.

"It is good to see you again, Griff," said the voice of Oracle from somewhere in the darkness. "It feels as though it has been a long time, though I know it has only been a day or two at most."

Griff's eyes slowly adjusted to the light, and he could pick out the tall owl sitting in a chair next to his three-legged table. Her eyes glittered in the darkness like twin moons, and as she shifted her weight it seemed as though she were cloaked in a patch of the night sky, with stars covering her body.

"Hello, Oracle," replied Griff. "I admit, I was a little doubtful that I would ever see you again. Why are you sitting here in the dark? Are we having another power shortage?"

The owl chuckled lightly.

"No, no loss of power. It's just easier to sleep in the dark."

"Oh, did I disturb you?"

"Hardly," answered Oracle. "I was not the one sleeping." She gestured towards the bed that lay against one wall. A large figure was curled up on the plain mattress, lying on top of the blankets with his back turned to the goat.

Griff frowned as he tried to see who was occupying his bed. Taking a step closer, he jumped as his leg bumped against something hard, causing it to clatter loudly to the floor. The figure didn't stir, despite all the noise. Shaking his head and muttering something that his mother wouldn't have approved of, Griff bent to look at what he had almost tripped on. To his surprise, he discovered that it was metal. As he got a closer look, he realized that what he had nearly fallen over was a large shield, with a sword leaning nearby against the wall by the bed. Right next to the bed lay the pieces of a suit of armor, glinting dully in the dim light.

"What in the world . . . ?" he muttered under his breath. At this the sleeping figure stirred and then sat up, facing Griff.

"Hello, Griff," said the figure.

Blinking in surprise, Griff reached up to grasp the pull-chain to the single bulb that gave his room light. With a click the room lit up, and Griff stared at the being before him. So this is the 'strange new person' the child had been talking about, thought Griff. The being was tall, Griff could tell that even while he sat, had a strong but lean musculature, and looked young, perhaps a year or two younger than the goat. But what was most striking about the person was the single spiraling ivory horn that emerged from the center of his brow, a star of silver-white fur surrounding it.

"Equinus?" said Griff, squinting as he recognized the being.

"For the time being, yes, I am Equinus," replied the young horse. "Hopefully, though, I won't stay that way for long. There is too much to do, and too little time."

"I'm glad to see you made it back alive," said Griff, smiling. "I was worried that maybe you'd never get back from the Tombs. Plenty of others never did. What do you mean you hope you won't stay this way?"

Equinus sighed tiredly.

"It is a long story," he said. "But I think that it's enough to say that I am also Paladin, the Unicorn. The legend has been reborn, and now I've got to grow into the job."

Griff frowned again, his brow wrinkling in thought, then he nodded.

"I think I see. Well, you're welcome to stay here as long as you need to. We can always use an extra hand or two around the Underground."

"I am afraid that we won't be able to do that, Griff," said Oracle. "We don't have much time, and we must hurry to reawaken the next of the Last Legion before it is everlastingly too late."

Oracle rose to her feet, and Griff found himself staring at the owl that stood before him. Instead of the simple, shapeless brown robes that she had worn for all the time that he had known her, now she was dressed in a flowing robe of sheer dark blue fabric. He could see stars glinting in the cloth, and the effect of the dress being a piece of the night sky was enhanced still further as she moved towards him. As he looked up at the great owl, Griff found himself once more captivated by those eyes. He had always considered himself to be strong-willed and not easily swayed, and in all other cases he had been proven correct. But when he stared into the eyes of Oracle and felt the weight of the vast and ageless intellect that lay behind them, he felt like a mere child, helpless in the face of something that he couldn't possibly understand. Oracle had a power he couldn't even begin to fathom. When he stopped to think on it he realized that an almost superstitious awe clouded his every thought regarding the owl. As he considered the being in front of him, Griff could tell that her power had become stronger since last he saw her, for she seemed to have grown somehow, in a way that he couldn't quite explain.

"Where is Growler, the bear who helped show us to the Tombs?" Oracle asked calmly.

Griff blinked as he thought of where the bear could be. Then it came to him.

"Growler went with Toliver to go set up more security measures around the entrances to the Underground. They could be in any one of them by now."

Oracle frowned at this while Equinus looked in confusion at the owl.

"Why do you want to know where that bear is?" asked Equinus. "Do we need him for something else?"

Oracle nodded.

"We need him very much. He is the one chosen to become the Manticore."