#suppression squad

That morning began like any other for the group—a gang of mercenaries waking up amidst the grime and decay of an abandoned orphanage. By the end of the day, however, they planned to rise far above their current status, seizing the throne, the castle, and the world itself.

This was merely the beginning of their glorious empire.

The scheme was straightforward: reach Castle Acorn by the 8:00am guard shift change. However, complications quickly arose, heightening the tension as they raced towards their destination. Scourge, who’d been tasked with waking the others, had overslept. Predator Hawk, who happened to wake up nearly an hour later than intended, resorted to a rather efficient method of rousing his teammates—a piercing screech that echoed through the dilapidated neighborhood. While effective, the abrupt awakening left everyone disgruntled as they hurriedly consumed their breakfast and dashed to the gym for a quick shower. With everyone and everything necessary crammed into an unmarked van, they sped towards the castle.

“Are we never going back there?” Toxic asked, her feet swinging idly over the edge of her seat.

“I think Scourge’s gonna get his car,” Simon replied, glancing down at her, “but after today, we’ll have everything we need in the castle.”

“Fingernails is in my bed,” Toxic said solemnly, staring down at her lap.

The mention of "Fingernails" elicited puzzled looks from everyone except Flying, who was distractedly trying to catch a fly with his tongue, buzzing in through Scourge’s open window.

“I’m sorry, what?” Lightning asked, raising an eyebrow.

“My cheetah toy, Fingernails,” Toxic whimpered, her voice small as she hung her head.

“You named it Fingernails?” Predator inquired bluntly.

“You’ll get Fingernails back,” Simon reassured her gently. “Scourge can grab it when he gets his car.”

“No, he won’t,” Toxic retorted, her gaze icy as it landed on Scourge. The hurt from their bitter exchange the previous night lingered, and she crossed her arms tightly. “He don’t fuckin like me.”

Scourge’s jaw clenched, his eyes fixed out the window as he shifted uncomfortably in his seat, avoiding the gaze of everyone else in the van.

Simon sensed the tension between Toxic and Scourge, knowing whatever had transpired between them had deeply affected her. She was unusually quiet, her usual wild spark dimmed. However, he knew today was not the time to delve into personal conflicts. They had a mission to focus on. “I’ll get Fingernails for you, okay?” he promised softly.

Toxic didn’t respond verbally, merely giving a small nod as her gaze remained fixed on her lap, the weight of her thoughts evident in her silence.

“Hey, it’s gonna be a good day, Toxic. I promise,” Simon said, his voice warm and reassuring. “And what are you gonna do when we get there?”

“I’ll help Flying watch that stinky boy,” she replied, pointing with a small finger at the blindfolded, disheveled twin-tailed fox sitting across from them, her expression softening.

“That’s right,” Simon replied, smiling faintly, relieved to see a flicker of enthusiasm in her eyes.

“You hear that, Stinky McFoxy?” Flying hollered with exaggerated enthusiasm, leaning over their unflinching captive, his signature wide grin stretching unnaturally across his face. “Me and my little blue buddy got our eyes on you-hoo-hoo!”

Miles remained silent, his only reaction the twitch of his ear in annoyance at the obnoxious tone of Flying’s voice. Beneath his unreadable exterior, resentment simmered toward the Destructix. Yet, the deepest, most seething hatred was reserved for one individual: Scourge.

Miles despised him not only for the immediate humiliation of being locked in the dark, dank remains of an old freezer, left to fester and be all but forgotten, but also for the history that loomed between them. Scourge's audacity and arrogance that had long infuriated him. Why, it was Miles’ plan that had led to Scourge losing the throne the yellow fox believed he never deserved.

Scourge had been domineering, forcing members of the Suppression Squad to alter their names and appearances, all in a bid to make them stand out against their Mobian counterparts. It was a display of power that spoke to his inflated ego. Miles could feel the bitterness boiling inside him as he recalled the countless times Scourge had expected unwavering loyalty and obedience, despite his many failures during their various endeavors. The very thought of Scourge's smug expression made Miles’ blood boil, fueling the fire of his deep-seated abhorrence.

What Miles wouldn’t give to wipe the grin off of Scourge’s face.

He could only simmer in his resentment for so long before the van rolled into the castle’s parking garage, the sound of engines and car horns echoing throughout its interior, Predator yanked off his blindfold, the sudden exposure to light making Miles squint as he adjusted to the contrast.

“Hop out, boys,” Fiona ordered, her tone authoritative and crisp. “We’ll make sure our friend Miles gets you in. Just follow the other guards to the entrance post. Call me or Scourge and say our code when we’re clear to go in.”

“Yes ma’am,” Simon replied dutifully as he opened the rear doors of the van. Once he climbed out, the cool air of the garage brushed against his fur, a refreshingn contrast to the stuffy atmosphere inside the vehicle.

As Simon waited for Lightning and Predator to follow suit, he caught sight of Toxic through the van’s open door. She was waving goodbye, furrowing her brows with worry, yet simultaneously her cheeks raised under her mask; indicating a small, reassuring smile. In that moment, he felt a pang of connection; the mixture of concern and hope on her face mirrored his own conflicting emotions. He knew this mission was high-stakes, with no room for error. But despite any apprehension during missions, he was always confident in the abilities of himself and his team.

Today would be a new beginning, a turning point rather than an ending.

Simon felt a surge of determination as he smiled back at her, projecting confidence that he hoped would ease her worries. He knew that one day, she would understand the importance of embracing challenges rather than simply fearing them. With one last glance at her, he waved goodbye in return, before closing the door. The thud echoed in the concrete space, resonating with the finality of the trio’s departure.

Update from Ibrahim Iwais on November 30th, 2024:

"Hello suportive friends ❤️

A new month Today marks 420 days of agnoy and grief . we raised the goal today Because of the incredible costs of our daily necessities for living , we have spent most of the money donated over the last months of the war and this minimizes the chances of evacuation to safety and peace . So we unfortunately have to increase our fundraising to go with our new situations and circumstances. The news says that the Rafah crossing will be opened In the first quarter of 2025

The situation here has worsened significantly, and we are struggling to meet our daily needs for food, clean water, and cleaning supplies. Unfortunately, the prices of these essentials have skyrocketed. For instance, a bag of flour that used to cost 10 dollars before the crisis now costs 200 to 300 dollars , if it’s available at all.

‎‏We are also facing serious health issues, has developed a skin condition due to the Extreme cold and contaminated water. These health concerns, combined with rising economic burdens, make your continued support crucial.