Charles wished that he hadn't lost his internal chronometer in a mining accident four years ago. Without any way to tell time underground it seemed as though he had been running through the winding tunnels forever. At least the SWATbots hadn't caught up with him. That would have cut the run very short indeed.

Sonic said that Griff was in charge of the Underground now, thought Charles, smirking a little as he thought back on old times. That little kid always did seem like a smart cookie. He and Sally would have made a good pair. Still might, now that I think of it. After all, if the king can ever be found, it'll be quite a tossup between Mout's son and my nephew. That will be quite a sight to . . . uh oh.

From out of a small side tunnel, the long pointed nose and gleaming red eyes of a Robo Rat made an appearance. Charles didn't have time to slow down or hide, and the Rat's motion sensitive eyes immediately locked on him. Seeing no other option Charles just ran faster, very grateful that roboticizing also took away the ability to feel tired. The rat gave a loud squeak as it realized that the metal being running through the tunnels wasn't supposed to be there, and made a lunge forward just as Charles sped by. It barely missed him, bonking its head against the tunnel wall. Shaking away the stars that flashed through its vision, the Robo Rat looked after the fast-moving roboticized creature for a moment, deciding what to do. It quickly came to a decision and took off after Sir Charles at a frightening pace, one that only the elder hedgehog's nephew could have beaten.

"Blast," muttered Charles as he heard the patter of the Rat's feet closing rapidly behind him. "It's hard to get a break around here." Though he was stronger than he had been when he was made of flesh and blood, Charles knew he wasn't strong enough to handle the whipping tail and gnashing teeth of a Robo Rat. "Just gotta buy some time."

The Rat closed the distance between itself and the fleeing hedgehog in less than a minute and leapt forward once again, this time aimed at Charles' midsection so he couldn't duck away. Unfortunately, the Rat hadn't considered the possibility that its quarry might decide to flatten itself against the wall, which Charles did, leaving the Robot Rat once more to sail into space and land in an ungraceful heap further down the tunnel. Charles didn't wait for the Rat to get up, but just kept running, vaulting over the mechanical rodent as he passed it in the passageway. This time he was able to get quite a bit of distance on the Rat as it pulled itself together and got its parts organized again.

"I can't keep this up forever," he growled in irritation as he heard the sound of metal rodent feet coming down the tunnel behind him again. "That thing just doesn't know when to quit."

Looking for some way to stop the relentless metal menace, Charles began to look at the rock walls around him. As he focused on the natural cave carved by centuries of dripping water, he realized suddenly that there were several holes in the wall. Holes made by a hand power drill just like those he had used so long ago.

They're close! he thought with excitement. I've almost found the Underground.

With this thought driving him just a little faster, he rounded a bend in the tunnel, and kept running as fast as he could while still scanning the walls for more signs of artificial change.

* * *

"Well, you know Miss Toliver," said Growler with a lazy drawl, "I think we got the last of 'em. That oughta give us plenty of warning if anybody comes through these tunnels."

The turtle at the large brown bear's side smiled and leaned against him.

"You want to plug them in to the power now?" she asked while rubbing his strong but soft-furred arm with one hand.

Growler grinned, and handed the final wire connection to Toliver.

"I figured you oughta have the honor, Miss Toliver. You've got a softer touch, you know."

Toliver smiled up at Growler and took the two wires, then touched the plugs at their ends together. The moment she did so, power coursed through each of the security monitors they had set up, and every single one of them started to go off, setting off all the warning lights on the palm-sized console Growler had attached to his belt.

"What the . . ." the bear growled in confusion. "There's gotta be somethin' wrong here. I mean, it'd only go off like that if we was bein' . . ."

WHUMP!

Growler suddenly found himself in a heap on the floor, his limbs in a tangle with the limbs of someone else who he didn't think he had ever seen before. And when he saw the glint of metal in the light of the lamp he and Toliver had worked by, he was sure of it. Giving a loud grunt, the large bear got to his feet, throwing the smaller metal being back onto the ground on its back. Before the roboticized stranger could move, Growler had caught it by the scruff of the neck and hoisted it into the air.

"Looks like the sensors are workin' just fine," said the bear as he brought the intruder up to face level so he could look it in the eye. "And we just caught ourselves a metal menace."

"You have me all wrong," said the metal being, who Growler now saw had been a hedgehog before the change. Both Toliver and Growler caught their breaths when they heard the being speak. Roboticized Mobians hardly ever spoke after the change, and even when they did, they didn't have the life in their voices that this one had.

"Who are you?" asked Toliver, getting closer to look at their prisoner. "What are you doing here?"

"My name, dear lady," said the hedgehog as he gave an awkward bow in midair, "is Sir Charles Hedgehog, late of the Royal Guard and uncle of Sonic the Hedgehog. As you can see by my metal body I've fallen into some hard times. I'm here because I came to warn the Underground about an invasion of SWATbots and Robo Rats coming this way even as we speak. There's one close behind me now, and it's coming fast!"

"Well, why didn't you say so," chuckled Growler, putting Charles down. "We Underground Mobians love Sonic. He gave us half a power crystal, you kn . . ."

At that moment a loud squeak filled the tunnel as the Robo Rat rounded the corner and barreled toward the three Mobians at top speed. Toliver screamed and scooped up a soldering iron while Charles went into a crouch, his hands sprouting a number of sharp implements. The Rat paid them no mind, however, and instead launched itself straight at the large brown bear who dominated the middle of the tunnel. Growler gave a loud roar of pain as his arm came up, narrowly blocking the Rat from taking his throat, but also letting its razor-sharp teeth sink into the hard flesh of his wrist. The Robo Rat lashed out with its tail as it kept a death grip on Growler's arm, knocking Charles and Toliver back as it began to claw at the bear, ripping the tool vest he was wearing into shreds and leaving bloody trails over his chest. The big grizzly snarled and thrashed his arm, futilely trying to get the Rat off. Realizing the hopelessness of that course of action, Growler pulled his imprisoned arm close to his body so that he could look down into the glowing red eyes of the Rat. With a sneer, he spat into its face, and then wrapped his free arm around its midsection and began to squeeze with all his considerable might. The Rat's eyes began to bulge as it suddenly found itself facing an unexpected turn of events. As the Rat felt its internal machinery begin to groan as it was compressed, it twisted its head, brutally ripping at the flesh in its mouth to draw loud cries from its opponent. Having a more pressing need at hand, the Rat turned its tail from holding off its other opponents, and shot it up the bear's back to wrap it around Growler's neck. Now Growler's eyes began to bulge as he and the Rat pitted their endurance against each other, waging a contest of strength until one or the other was dead. Pulling himself up to his full height, raising the Robo Rat with him, Growler grit his teeth as he walked the short distance to the cave wall. His muscles knotted and bulged in preparation for a supreme effort, and then Growler slammed the Rat against the hard stone with all his might! The Rat's side burst open at the blow, sending a spray of gears and wires all over as its tail fell away from Growler's neck, letting the bear give a scream of pent-up agony. The Rat dropped limply to the floor, Growler's forearm still clutched tightly in its jaws. Growler soon followed suit, dropping into unconsciousness from the pain and shock.

* * *

"How many tunnels in the Underground are there?" asked Equinus as he walked a few steps behind Griff and Oracle.

"More than any living Mobian has ever had the chance to count," replied Griff with a smile. "That's why it was always so hard for the Royal House to regulate things down here, even after the Underground was made official."

"Makes sense," sighed the brown-and-white horse. "Nothing's ever easy."

Griff glanced back at the colt that had first come to his people such a short time ago, and couldn't help but marvel at the change that had taken place. Equinus now looked much like the Paint breed of horse, with small blotches of white on his shoulder, chest, and both legs. The patches of white would have been silver, but there was still a good deal of brown fur mixed with it, and this muted the sheen of his coat somewhat. While he was much larger than before, almost head and shoulders taller than Griff, Equinus was still not quite large or strong enough to wear the unicorn's armor, and so he had left it back at Griff's place. He was able to wield the sword if he used both hands, though, and so he had taken it with him, strapping it to his back as they walked through the long tunnel corridors.

"Hmm, looks like they came through here," said Griff as he looked up at the side of the wall. "See that little indentation? That's where a security sensor was put into the wall, and then covered up."

Equinus squinted at the stone.

"I can't see a thing, just rock. How can you see it?"

Griff smiled.

"Practice. I've lived down here my whole life, after all."

The colt nodded.

"I see, just like learning how to get along in the woods. If I ever get the chance, I'll have to take some lessons from you on how to survive down here."

The goat chuckled.

"I'd look forward to it."

Oracle cleared her throat at that moment, drawing the attention of both her companions.

"I hate to interrupt your conversation," she said in her prim voice, "but we need to hurry. I can sense that Growler is in trouble right now, and he needs our . . . oh!"

The tall owl stiffened as she gave a loud gasp. Equinus and Griff were at her side instantly, their hands going out to steady her. Shortly Oracle regained her composure.

"What happened, Oracle?" asked Equinus.

"I have an empathic link to the Last Legion," said Oracle, her voice strained with effort. "That is how I found you and could read some of your thoughts. But it has drawbacks. Growler just suffered a very painful injury, and I was too closely tied with him. I only just pulled back in time before I got a full dose of the pain he's going through. That would have leveled me."

"Growler, in pain?" gasped Griff. "Do you know where he is now?"

Oracle nodded, leaning most of her weight on Equinus.

"That way," she said, pointing down a branch of the tunnel, "at the end of that tunnel. Please help me get there, Paladin, I'm a little weak right now."

Equinus glanced at the face of the owl and saw immediately that her eyes were slightly out of focus. Obviously the pain had taken more out of her than she had let on. He nodded at her request, and the three of them made their way as quickly as possible down the corridor. Rounding the bend in the tunnel, Griff winced as he saw his brown-furred friend crumpled on the floor, one arm reduced to a slowly bleeding stump cut off a little above the elbow. Toliver had made a tourniquet from a tool belt and a screwdriver, which stopped most of the bleeding. As the turtle lady put her weight against the knot, talking soothingly to the mostly unconscious bear, a roboticized hedgehog worked nearby with tools that sprang from his fingertips, making the boards of Growler and Toliver's scaffold into a stretcher.

Seeing the metal intruder so close by a fallen comrade, Griff gave a yell and ran forward, scooping up a power drill as he came. The hedgehog only just noticed the charging goat in time to roll out of the way of the spinning drill. As the metal Mobian rose to his feet in a ready crouch, his tool-laden fingers up and ready, Griff began to circle him like a prize fighter waiting for an opening in his opponent's defense.

"Stop!" ordered Oracle, making both Griff and the hedgehog look at her as she took her weight off Equinus' shoulder and rose to her full and very impressive height. "Griff, that one is not the enemy. His name is Sir Charles Hedgehog, late of the Royal Guard, uncle of Sonic and one of the few Mobians ever to break free of the mind-control caused by roboticizing. Sir Charles, this is Griff, son of Mayor Mout, leader of the Underground Mobians."

At this, the combatants lowered their respective weapons. Griff took a step forward and extended his hand.

"I'm sorry, friend," he said apologetically. "If I knew that you were a friend of Oracle's I would never have attacked you."

Charles blinked in surprise, but took the proffered hand.

"I am who the owl says I am, but as to being her friend, I don't believe we've even been introduced before."

Oracle walked over to the metal hedgehog and looked down at him, smiling.

"You met me once before, Sir Charles," she said in a quiet voice. "Eleven long years ago, for only a few brief minutes. You were talking to King Acorn in a private meeting, to try and convince him to take some of Robotnik's authority away before the minister of defense got out of hand. He didn't agree with you at first, as I recall."

Charles' eyes lit up as he remembered.

"No, he didn't. But then a voice spoke up behind me, telling the king to listen to me. It was you! You were standing over in a corner, dressed in those same blue robes. Then the king dismissed me while you talked in private, and later on we started to reduce Robotnik's power. We were too late to stop his plans by then, unfortunately, but I remember you."

The tall owl nodded sagely.

"My name is Oracle, Sir Charles, the same Oracle from the children's stories. I am the wandering sorceress, the one who's duty it is to awaken the Last Legion and ensure their continuation from generation to generation." She gestured behind her, at the tall single-horned horse behind her. "The Last Legion is also real, and I am bringing them back to fight that betrayer, the fiend who has brought this evil upon us, and the evils that shall arise after him. But none of this knowledge is going to be terribly important to your part in the drama to be played. You came to the Underground with a message to deliver, a warning. Griff is here, the leader of the ones you seek to warn. Speak, and save lives while you still may."

With that, Oracle turned away from Charles and Griff and knelt by the prone form of Growler. Charles blinked in surprise once more, then shook his head, knowing that he wouldn't understand even if it was explained to him. Turning to Griff, he began to do just as the owl had directed, the young goat listening intently, rising alarm on his face.

"Your distraction outside the Roboticizing Center the other day prompted Robotnik to send a team of SWATbots down here. He was sending them to the Tombs." This brought a gasp from both Equinus and Griff. "But Snively took over the operation, and he arranged for a hundred SWATbots and five Robo Rats to mount an attack force to exterminate all life in the Underground. Those robots are on their way now. I was only a short distance ahead of them. If we're going to save anybody, we're all going to have to work together and work fast, before those Robo Rats find where you live and bring the whole SWATbot horde down on your heads."

Griff frowned.

"What you tell me doesn't leave us many options. We either stay and fight, or we run and hide somewhere else. Fighting would be suicide, so now it's just a matter of where do we run."

"You could go and join the Freedom Fighters in Knothole," said Equinus. "They're always looking for extra support when they can get it. That's why they let me join them."

Griff smiled at the horse, blinking when he noticed that the patches of white had grown both larger and greater in number. A few places even seemed to glint with metallic luster. Deciding his eyes were just playing tricks on him, he replied calmly.

"I don't think that would work, Equinus. While I know that the Freedom Fighters will take in just about anyone, I don't think they would trust me anymore. It's a long story, but suffice it to say that I'm not welcome in Knothole. Don't ask about it, please. I don't want to bore you with the details."

Equinus frowned, but nodded his acceptance of the lack of details. He could tell when it was best not to pry to deeply into someone else's life. Griff smiled pleasantly, and then turned to look at his fallen friend, kneeling down beside Toliver. The turtle was resting Growler's head on her lap, and she looked at Griff in wonder as he came near.

"It's amazing, Griff," she whispered, pointing to Oracle, who was unwrapping the reddened bandages. "She just touched him and closed her eyes and Growler stopped bleeding, then his wound closed up. It's like months of healing were pressed into a matter of minutes. I've never seen anything like it."

Griff looked at the bared arm of the strong grizzly, and blinked as he saw for himself what Toliver had spoken of. While Growler's arm was still only a stump, it had healed over completely, not even leaving scar tissue behind. Oracle glanced at the Underground Mobians and gave them a smile, then bent over Growler's body to breathe heavily in his face. Griff and Toliver gasped as a glittering mist poured from Oracle's mouth and nostrils, only to be sucked in by Growler's next breath. Instantly the bear gave a sneeze, then opened his eyes. The first face he looked on was Toliver's, bringing a beatific smile to his face. Then his eyes fell on Oracle, and he frowned in confusion and suspicion.

"What happened, Miss Toliver?" he murmured in a weak voice. "And what's she doing here?"

"You stopped the Robo Rat, Growler," said Toliver softly, her hand softly brushing his cheek. "The owl healed your wounds, and helped you wake up."

"Wounds?" gasped Growler, realization flooding his eyes. "By the moons of Mobius!"

As the bear's eyes went down to the ruin of his arm, the owl moved to block his vision.

"Not yet, Growler," she said calmly. "Wait a few minutes, and breathe deeply. The changes you will have to make now will hurt, but you will have to make them to survive. And if you are to weather the first shock, you need to brace yourself. Remember that Toliver is right here if you need more strength. Now, close your eyes."

Growler did as he was told, taking slow, deep breaths to slow his heart rate as much as possible. Moving from his field of vision and placing a feathered hand on the bear's shoulder, Oracle lowered her face next to his ear.

"Now look, Destined One, and face your fate for the time being."

First one, and then the other of the Grizzly's eyes opened, traveling down his shoulder, over his chest, onto his elbow, and then down a little further.

"Oh Miss Toliver," whispered Grower as he stared at his empty stump, "I'm so sorry. Sorry I had to go and ruin everything." Saying that, he broke down and began to sob. The turtle took him in her arms and let him cry into her shoulder, his tears staining her shell.

"It's all right, Growler," she whispered back to him. "I still love you, and I always will."

Growler looked into her eyes when she said that, taking her chin in his remaining hand, then held up his stump.

"You'd love a cripple, Miss Toliver? I don't want to be anybody's burden, you know, and I don't want you to have any less a male than the one you had."

"I've still got as much male as I ever did, Growler," said Toliver as she looked him straight in the eyes. "As much male as I'll ever want or need."

"But, you know, Miss Toliver . . ."

The turtle stopped the words with a kiss. As their lips touched they both closed their eyes, and almost instantly all the tension seemed to flow out of Growler's face. When they finally broke their embrace, he looked around at the four pairs of eyes watching the couple in sudden realization.

"Oh, gawsh!"

Griff laughed.

"Well done. But we've still got work to do. There's an army of SWATbots invading us, Growler, and I need to get the Underground evacuated as quickly as possible. For that, I'm going to need your help."

"I'm afraid not, my friend," said Oracle, a sad smile on her face. "You see, Growler is needed for a far greater task." She looked down at the bear as he sat on the floor, holding Toliver close. "You have heard of the Last Legion?"

Growler frowned but nodded.

"It is returning once more. Equinus is living proof of its return, however gradual." She gestured to the horse, and Growler's frown deepened as he saw the single horn spiraling from the colt's forehead. "You have been chosen to bear the Mantle of the Manticore, Growler. If the Manticore is to be reawakened, then you must come with me, and come now. We have little time, and less every second that passes."

Growler shook his head to clear it, then slowly pulled himself to his feet. At first he leaned on Toliver, but he soon began to stand steadily on his own two feet.

"What about the Underground, Oracle?" asked Growler. "I don't care about anything but my friends, and I'm not going to turn and run when they're in trouble."

Griff spoke up then.

"Growler, this is more important that the Underground. Even if you don't, I trust Oracle. We'll survive like we always do. But if Oracle says that she needs you, then I think you'd better go with her."

Growler seemed unsure at this, and looked down at his feet. Toliver put a hand on his arm.

"Wherever you go, Growler, I'll go too," she said simply.

As the grizzly wrestled with the choice, torn between the defense of what he understood and could see with his own eyes, and the promise of a dream that might yet prove a reality. He had never believed in dreams before. But as he looked down at the turtle at his side, and then at the glittering horn of the unicorn, something sparked in his mind and heart. A memory of a voice he had heard, or thought he heard, not so long ago: Just remember this: trust the Owl, she's a friend. Follow her wherever she leads, and whatever happens I promise there'll be hope. Hope for us all. Just trust her enough to see if what she says is true. I promise she'll never steer you wrong.

Growler's teeth gritted, and he fixed Oracle with a determined glare.

"All right, owl, I'll go with you. But only on the condition that we do something to slow those robots down on our way out. I'm not one to cut out without a little assist to my friends, you know."

Oracle smiled.

"Equinus and I would be only to happy to help you in that endeavor, friend Growler."

As Oracle, Equinus, Growler, and Toliver made their way off into the tunnels, Griff looked at the metal hedgehog who had unexpectedly become his ally. Charles looked back at the goat, then smiled.

"It looks like we're going to have to figure this one out on our own," he said. "Moving a town the size of Knothole would be hard, but moving the Underground?"

Griff frowned in thought.

"There are much less of us than there were, Sir Charles," the goat replied.

"Please, call me Chuck," said the hedgehog, extending a hand. "Happy to be of service." Griff blinked, then took the proffered hand.

"And I'm happy to have any help I can get. You're Sonic's uncle?"

Chuck grinned, then nodded.

"He's quite a young man, my nephew," said the elder hedgehog.

Griff nodded at this, his thoughts racing. As a plan began to coalesce in his mind, his mouth curved upward in a smile.

"Then perhaps we have a chance," Griff said finally.

* * *

From wherever they were, and whatever they were doing, Mobians looked up in surprise and fear as the peaceful bustle of the Underground was shattered by the wail of the Raid Siren. The Raid Siren had been installed when the Underground was first built. The Underground city of Mobotropolis had fallen as easily as it had because there had been no effective way to communicate danger to every area of the city. Hence, when the survivors were building a new home, they made certain that they would not make the same mistake once more. Now the Siren called out to all within the Underground city, and they came from wherever they had been to gather in the town square, where Griff was already standing, waiting for his people to congregate so that he could bring order to the chaos that might otherwise ensue. As the Underground Mobians gathered, each of them gasped in shock as they saw the metal being standing next to their leader. It was a roboticized Mobian, and yet the metal zombie seemed not at all inclined to attack, and it even looked around with eyes that almost seemed to be unclouded by the haze of silicon slavery. When the whole of the Underground had assembled, Griff spoke to his people.

"My friends," he began, "another crisis has come upon us, the one that we have feared for so long. Robotnik has sent out more Robo Rats to hunt us down, and close behind them are a horde of his robot soldiers to try and destroy us. The worst is about to happen, our nightmares made reality. But though we are embattled and endangered, still we may pull ourselves from this doom, just as we did when the great Underground City fell. In the midst of the oncoming darkness, a ray of light has broken through."

At this Griff put a hand on the roboticized hedgehog's shoulder.

"This is Sir Charles Hedgehog, uncle of Sonic, the one who saved us from the Rats and gave us power for our city. While Sir Charles was roboticized, he has broken free of Robotnik's control. He came to warn us of the oncoming army, and with his help I believe that we can evacuate our city and escape to safety, for with him guiding us we shall have a place to go: Knothole!"

A murmur ran through the crowd, but they hushed quickly when Griff held up a hand.

"I know that many of you doubt they will take us in after what we . . . what I did to them before. But Sir Charles and I have spoken, and he believes that he can persuade his nephew to accept us. And if Sonic will accept our coming, then I have little doubt that Princess Sally Acorn will as well. Among the Freedom Fighters we shall have a chance to start over, a better chance than I think we'll have on our own, running deeper into these caves until we're found once more. What say you, Undergrounders? Are you with me?"

The crowd roared its acceptance of their leader's plan. Within a matter of minutes the Underground Mobians were on their way to their houses to pack what belongings they could carry before they would gather once more in the town square to begin the exodus. At the same time, Chuck, Griff, and some of the technicians who took care of the power supplies hurriedly began to dismantle their equipment and pack it away. Griff took the power crystal itself and put it into a knapsack, then, after a moment of thought, handed the knapsack to Charles.

"Here," he said with a smile, "I think this is yours anyway."

"Why, so it is," said Charles, a little surprised. "So this was how Sonic gave power back to your city. I understand now why your people like him so much."

Griff nodded.

"We all know that power crystals that can do more than light a flashlight bulb are as rare as hen's teeth. A power crystal as strong and pure as the one you used to make Sonic's power rings is a treasure like none I've ever seen before, and yet he broke it in half to help us. I'll never contest the fact that he's a better male than I am."

In less than two hours the entire population of the Underground had stripped their city of everything that could be carried and packed it away in bags, boxes, knapsacks, and suitcases. Soon the town square was packed once more with the Underground Mobians, each carrying their respective loads in their hands, on their backs, or in small wheelbarrows. Griff stood in the middle of the group and addressed them once more, holding one of the few energy rifles pilfered from the SWATbot armories under one arm and a detonator in the other.

"Friends, the time to leave has almost come. Growler and Toliver have gone with Oracle and her friend, Equinus, to delay the SWATbots. While they slow our foes, we shall leave by the Under Pass, the tunnel we dug beneath our city for just such an occasion as this. Charges have been set at key points throughout this cavern, and as soon as we all begin our journey we'll seal off the city forever, leaving no trace behind. Are we all ready to leave?"

A roar of affirmation filled the huge cavern of the Underground City.

"Then let us begin the journey."

At that moment a loud chittering noise was heard, and all eyes turned in horror to see four Robo Rats standing at the top of one of the long staircases leading into the Underground. One of the brutes gave a loud squeak and scurried back into the tunnels behind it to report to the waiting army of SWATbots, while the other three began a rapid descent down the stairs, towards the massed Mobians.

"Everyone, get to the Under Pass now!" yelled Griff at the top of his lungs. His people heard him and began to obey, moving in an orderly but rapid fashion to the hidden passage in one far corner of their great city, knowing that their only hope lay in staying calm in the face of danger.

As most of the Underground Mobians fled, Griff led a small band of five who also held energy rifles as he did, who quickly pulled out the furniture from nearby homes and set up a makeshift barricade. They had worked hard to steal the rifles after the last Robo Rat attack, determined not to be found defenseless should such a thing happen again. Chuck stayed with the six defenders as they readied their weapons and took aim from behind the barricade, awaiting the assault of the Rats. They did not have long to wait.

* * *

"You know," whispered Growler, "that's a lot of SWATbots."

The foursome had made their way through the tunnels of the Underground until they had come to the vast staging area beneath the former Royal Parade Grounds. They now huddled behind one of the larger boulders lying near the staging area, watching as the Supervisor SWATbots stalked up and down the thick ranks of SWATbots in impatient agitation as they awaited the return of the Robo Rats.

"You have a way of understating things, friend Growler," commented Oracle dryly. "You wouldn't happen to have any explosives in those tool kits you and Toliver are carrying, would you?"

"Only a few small ones to bust holes in rock," answered Toliver.

"A pity," sighed Oracle. "It would have been so much simpler just to bring the roof down on them. Oh well, we shall just have to make do with what we have."

Equinus looked over the ranks of troops, frowning as his mind began to work. It's like hunting, he told himself, or chess. Out think the 'prey,' make a bait he can't resist, then close the trap on him. Strange ideas began to come to the young horse, thoughts about strategies and military staging techniques that he had never read about in any book. What is happening to me? he thought to himself, but put that musing aside for the time being. He needed the concepts that were coming to him too badly to stop them with his fears.

"I think I have a plan," Equinus whispered after a while. "But it's going to take all our efforts to make it work."

Oracle looked at the colt, and smiled as she saw the brown fur of his coat receding still further, fast enough that she could watch him changing. Though Equinus didn't know it, as his fur changed he also began to fill out, his strong but youthful colt's muscles gradually turning into the seasoned might of a stallion.

"Go ahead, Paladin," she whispered, knowing that both Growler and Toliver were seeing the same changes in the once-colt, and both were awed by what they saw. "We're listening."

Seeing that he did, indeed, have the attention of his companions, Equinus began to explain his plan.

* * *

"Hey, ugly, over here!"

Every single visor in the entire army turned to face the white horse that had appeared in one of the tunnels leading away from the staging area. The Supervisor nearest to the foolish intruder stopped his pacing and eagerly called out to his team of twenty, glad to have a break in the monotony of waiting.

"SWATbots, follow me," it bellowed, "it is time for some target practice!"

The horse ducked back into the tunnel behind it just as the SWATbots came forward in a rush of metal bodies, their rifles humming as they charged up. If it had been proper for a robot to cackle, the Supervisor would have indulged himself in that practice. After all, he had the chance to kill a living Mobian, and none of the other Supervisors were going to be able to take part in that treat. The horse was only a little way in front of the oncoming robots, and already many of them were taking aim at the mammal's back. So intent were the SWATbots on their fleeing prey, however, that they failed to notice the clouds of thick smoke that began to gather behind them, following the whole troop down the passage.. Abruptly the horse turned a bend in the tunnel, and for a moment was lost from the sight of the oncoming robots. In that moment the smoke behind the SWATbots caught up with them, and they were engulfed in near pitch blackness that not even the searchlights mounted on their heads could pierce through, able to see only dim outlines of their surroundings.

"What is going on?!" roared the Supervisor as it came to a halt in the darkness. Abruptly he was struck in the back by three SWATbots who hadn't stopped running forward, and they all went down in a heap. The Supervisor snarled at the stupid machines and threw them off, getting to its feet once more. Before the Supervisor even got to its feet, however, a number of small explosions went off around the tunnel, and one went off right under its foot, taking it cleanly off and sending the Supervisor back to the floor. Thinking that they were under attack, and without the Supervisor to give them orders, the SWATbots opened fire in whatever direction they happened to be facing, trying to repel whoever had caused the explosions. As the SWATbots degenerated into utter confusion, their bolts struck the walls, the floor, and even each other as they shot about themselves blindly.

"Stop, you idiots!" roared the Supervisor from its place on the floor. "Stop at once! I'm ordering you to . . ."

A shining metal blade whistled as it cut through the air. Abruptly the Supervisor fell silent, its body split into two halves from its head to its waist.

"I think not," whispered Paladin as he ran past the crowded SWATbots, his blade cutting down any robot that got in his way. Those few shots that managed to hit him were deflected easily by his shining armor.

* * *

Thick clouds of smoke began to pour out of the tunnel where one of the SWATbot teams had chased after the foolish horse that had shown himself so recently. The other Supervisors had envied the leader of that team at first for the break from the monotony of waiting, but as the dense smoke began to engulf the staging area, rising to ankle-level, they started to think otherwise. A few of the robots began to shift in agitation.

"Hold your ground!" snarled Supervisor Gamma Six-Oh. "We'll soon get to the bottom of this mess." With that, the Supervisor strode confidently toward the smoke-spewing tunnel, four SWATbots in tow behind him.

As the other robots watched Gamma Six-Oh and his team, suddenly a stick of dynamite landed in the middle of the main group of SWATbots, going off with a loud BANG. While the stick had only been as wide around as two fingers of an average Mobian, and therefore not very strong it had the dramatic effect of causing the SWATbots nearest to the explosion to jump back as their self-preservation programming kicked in. Unfortunately, they were in such tight ranks that this caused them to crash hard into the SWATbots nearest to them, which in turn caused those SWATbots to hit the ones nearest them, and so forth, until a full-fledged domino effect had gotten under way. Soon almost all the SWATbots were keeled over in various positions on the floor, their forms obscured by the smoke, which had risen to mid-calf level by this time.

Gamma Six-Oh turned back when he heard the loud clanging of metal-on-metal as the SWATbots collapsed, and took a few steps back as he saw the other Supervisors trying to regain order among their troops, deciding that it would be best if he did the same. Then Gamma Six-Oh heard another loud clang, and turned to see the heads of two of the SWATbots that had come with him come to a rest on the cold stone floor. A moment later his eyes fell on the cause of their demise. If a robot could have felt fear, Gamma Six-Oh would have felt it then.

Standing at the entrance to the smoke-filled tunnel was the horse that had led off the previous Supervisor and his group. But now that Gamma Six-Oh could see the horse clearly, he saw the single horn that rose from the being's brow, and the bright armor that encased the warrior's body. In one strong hand was a shield polished to mirror-bright perfection, and in the other was a long, sharp sword that gleamed in the dim light.

"Despoiler," said the being in a cold voice, "your time of spreading terror has ended."

Supervisor Gamma Six-Oh didn't even see the sword move as his head was taken from his shoulders to fall, sparking, into the thick smoke on the ground. Paladin wasted no time in dispatching the other two SWATbots, and then he ran around the room's perimeter until he reached another tunnel, and ducked into the dark passage. A short run brought him to the end of the tunnel, where it opened up into a decent-sized cave. In that cave sat Growler, panting as he rested on a boulder. Not far from Growler, leaning her head against his leg, was Toliver Pettigrowse. Oracle was standing next to the cave's entrance, her eyes closed and her mouth moving, uttering silent words not meant for the ears of mortals. As Paladin walked in, the owl stopped her silent chant and opened her eyes to look at the changed being before her.

"Oracle," said Equinus, sounding small and afraid, "what has happened to me? Where did this armor come from? We left it back at the Underground, didn't we? And why don't I remember putting it on?" The silver-furred unicorn staggered as the realization of what had just happened hit him with full force. "Am I losing my mind?"

"No, Equinus, you are not losing your mind," said Oracle in a kind voice. She put a hand on the unicorn's shoulder and let him lean on her as she explained. "You are gaining more of it. As each new member of the Last Legion is chosen, they must each take on the knowledge and powers gained by the previous holders of the Mantle. The armor came to you because you had a need, and you had accepted the weight of the Mantle sufficiently for it to be of use to you in that time of need. While you are still Equinus, you are also filled with the collected memories of those who have gone before you for thousands of years, since before the dawn of recorded Mobian history. Hence, you are also Paladin, which was the name of the first of the line of succession. You must learn to accept this knowledge and these powers if you are to lead the Last Legion. If you are to fulfill the destiny given you, this is your fate. I am sorry that it could not be done in another fashion, but there was and is no other way."

Equinus closed his eyes and shook his head as he tried to make sense of the jumble of thoughts and old, dead personalities that crowded his mind.

"It's hard," he said at length, "but I'll hold on. I've got to, for the sake of Mobius."

Oracle gently touched the unicorn's face, and he opened his eyes to look into hers, twin pools as deep as space and time itself.

"Always remember that, Paladin," she said softly. "For the sake of Mobius."

With that, the two members of the Last Legion turned to the resting Mobians.

"Come, we must hurry," said Oracle. "The manticore must be awakened soon if we are to stop the oncoming disaster that threatens."

"Oh, all right," said Growler reluctantly, pulling himself to his feet and then helping Toliver up. "Just hold your horses, no offense Equinus. The ladder to the surface is over here." Saying that he walked over to a dark corner of the cave and brushed away the dust that had collected there. Under the dust they could all see hand- and footholds that had been cut into the cave wall. Toliver started up first, and when she got to the cave ceiling she gave a hard pull on a stalactite. When she did, a whole section of rock fell downward on a hinge, and she crawled up through the secret hatch, followed soon after by the others. Within minutes they had reached the sewers of Robotropolis. Oracle took the lead and the others followed her into the darkness, their destination, and their fates, unknown.

* * *

The first of the Robo Rats leapt onto the couch that a racoon was using as a shield, and snapped at the Mobian. She just barely dodged, but the Rat caught and crushed her rifle between its teeth. A moment later the Rat gave a loud squeak as the other five defenders took aim at the Rat while it held still and fired at full power, blasting the metal beast to pieces. Griff shouted at the racoon, and she beat a hasty retreat to the Under Pass.

Hitting the other two Rats proved problematic, for they were amazingly fast and agile and easily dodged the rifle fire by weaving among the buildings and scattered debris that covered the streets of the abandoned city. Still, by keeping the Rats dodging, the defenders also allowed their friends to escape, and so they kept up the seemingly impossible task of trying to shoot the Robo Rats. Griff kept looking back between shots to make sure that his people were safe, until he saw that the Underground was finally clear.

"Fall back to the Under Pass and we'll blow this place," yelled Griff, standing and firing a wide spread of energy bursts to keep the Rats busy. "I'll take the rear guard. Move!"

Reluctantly, the Undergrounders did as they were told, letting their leader take the rear position to keep the Rats at bay. Abruptly, both Rats made a bee-line into a dark alleyway near the street, and vanished from sight in the shadows. Fearing treachery, Griff ordered his friends to make a run for it while they could, and they all took off as fast as their legs could carry them toward the safety of the escape tunnel. The goat kept looking back to make sure that they weren't followed, slowly falling behind the others in his worry, and this proved to be his downfall. Quite suddenly the ground opened up underneath Griff's feet, and because he was looking back he failed to see it until it was too late and he slid downward, right into the waiting jaws of one of the Robo Rats. Griff nearly screamed in pain as the Rat's razor-sharp teeth closed on his calf in a vise-like grip, but despite the pain he remained calm and used the moment as a chance to aim his rifle, shooting the Rat in the head at point blank range. The shot sheared off the top of its metal skull, which freed his leg so that the goat could continue. Griff pulled himself out of the hole and tried to stand, only to discover that his leg was cut up so badly that he couldn't put any weight on it. His friends had gone on, just as he had ordered, and now all he could do was drag himself forward in the hope that he could reach the Under Pass before the other Rat found him. He had donned a bandolier with extra charges for his rifle while packing for the escape, and now he reached up and tapped the detonator that he had affixed to the strip of leather. If worst came to worst then he would blow the Underground, with himself still inside.

Shaking his head to clear it of the morbid thoughts that had crowded in on him, Griff began the slow and arduous process of crawling towards the escape tunnel with only one good leg. It felt as though a bolt of ice had pierced his heart when he heard a loud chitter right behind him. Griff rolled onto his back to face the Robo Rat as it advanced on him, its red eyes gleaming and long tail lashing as it licked its metal chops. Sneering in defiance, Griff lifted his rifle and fired at the metal rodent. The Robo Rat dodged to one side almost casually, then darted forward faster than Griff was able to follow with his eyes, rushing straight at him as its teeth flashed and went for his bare throat before the goat could even get off a second shot. At the moment Griff felt the sharp steel fangs touch his throat, he heard a yell of rage, and gaped in surprise as a spinning shape rammed into the Robo Rat, knocking it onto its back. The Rat was on its feet in an instant and bit down on its attacker, only to give a squeak of surprise as its teeth bounced off the metal quills of Sir Charles Hedgehog. Taking advantage of the Rat's momentary shock, Chuck's thumb sprouted an electric screwdriver, and he drove this into the beast's eye as he turned it on. The Robo Rat screeched and reared up on its hind legs, its forelegs catching hold of its tormentor and lifting the hedgehog as well, pulling Chuck's tool out of the Rat's eye. With another screech, the Rat held the metal hedgehog up, intending to dash his body to pieces on the cold stone floor. But then the Robo Rat's mouth dropped open, and its grip on Charles loosened as it stared down at the spark-emitting hole that had sprouted in the middle of its chest. Griff had made good use of the time he had been given, and put his rifle to use.

"Come on," said Chuck as he dropped lightly to the ground and went to the wounded goat, "let's get out of here."

With that, Griff leaned on Chuck's shoulder to support his bad leg, and the two of them made their way to the Under Pass. Once there, they gathered together with the other Underground Mobians, and Griff pushed the detonator button. A huge explosion was heard from the tunnel behind them, and then all was quiet.

Eventually the Underground Mobians limped their way into Knothole, where they were welcomed by the Freedom Fighters. Since Sally wasn't there to make arrangements, Rosie and Chuck took charge and set about making another village for the refugees that would be even deeper in the woods than Knothole. Griff's leg was badly hurt by the Rat's bite, and even when he got back on his feet he was never able to walk without a limp. He was still healing when Doomsday struck.