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The Creed

Chapter 1: Relativity

Sly sighed as he walked the streets of Paris. His relationship with Carmelita had crashed and burned terribly. He had tried; he really did, but the kind of life she lived just wasn't for him. He was a thief by trade and heritage, and could not help it when the urge overcame him. So now he found himself, alone again. But it didn't bother him too much, he liked Carmelita, but she wasn't the girl for him. He needed a girl that understood, or at least accepted his little tics. But she was an Interpol agent, the very antithesis of what he was and did.

She caught thieves and criminals, and he was a well-known thief and criminal.

Everything had come to a head the day before; she had discovered his plans to heist the brand new museum that was just going to be opened. A crook ran the place and so he felt that the fellow should share his wealth. Needless to say, he had been chased out of their apartment, dodging the blasts of her electrically powered handgun.

And now here he was, strolling down the streets of Paris and thinking about his life. Things had been quiet ever since their last little caper quite a bit ago before he tried to change, and now he wondered what to do. But then the obvious answer came to him as he smirked, he would just go back to doing what he did best.

Thievery...

But for that he would need to get his old team back together. Sly rubbed his furred chin, deep In thought. But, where would he find them?

Bentley, was probably back at his new lab with Penelope far away from Paris, and Murray....Murray was probably destroying things with his van. The hippo had developed a taste for danger and excitement, and that usually went hand-in-hand.

Oh well, after he took a gander at that villain's museum and liberated a few priceless antiquities, he would find them all. The roguish raccoon smiled and pulled his signature tool and family heirloom, his cane, from its spot on his back. With it in his pawed grip he did a sprinting leap and caught the hooked top on a telephone wire and shot himself into the air to land acrobatically onto a nearby roof. A few more leaps and bounds and he reached the highest building in the area. Using his binocucom, he zoomed in in the white and golden structure that had so caught his thrifty eyes.

Sly gave it a few casing glances and thought that it would be a relatively easy caper. But than a bright golden light flashed in one of the many windows on the third floor of the large building...that didn't look normal.

The raccoon grinned mischievously, but then again, nothing ever was.

Still grinning, Sly parkoured his way through the old fashioned houses and shops of downtown Paris as he headed over to the institution of soon to be stolen art. And while he was there, he would do a little investigating on that odd light. After all, what kind of Cooper would he be if he didn't?

*********

Sighing in frustration, a vibrantly orange and tawny chested vulpine dropped on the couch in her small mid-town apartment, in her night clothes. Carmelita Fox glared darkly at her bleached plaster walls and clenched and unclenched her clawed paws. "Goddamn it Sly!" She growled quietly and sniffled softly, her feelings still hurt.

He just couldn't put his past to rest could he?

She had thought that she could change him, or that he would at least stop his larceny for her. But then she had discovered his poorly hidden plans. "I mean really, under the bed?" She muttered unhappily to herself. That raccoon was going to be the death of her.

Exhaling heavily, she leaned back on her couch and grunted. She was done with Sly, she couldn't take it anymore. He could be a great guy, and she used to think, the greatest. But that irresistible connection she thought she had must have just been fruitless infatuation. He was just too different, more than she could handle or tolerate. Perhaps if she had not been an Interpol agent, she might have let it go. But it was her duty to apprehend criminals, and he was one of the worst, or best she supposed.

Muttering, she moved to a prone position on her sofa and hugged the pillow. Now here she was, alone again with nothing but her job to sustain her. "Looks like it's back to long nights at the precinct for me." She grumbled gloomily. There was no point coming back to an empty apartment.

She might have wallowed in depression for the entire night if not for the radio on her small table buzzing with static. Groaning, Carmelita forced herself off the couch and meandered over to the four legged wooden board.

"Inspector Fox here." She murmured tiredly over the device, yawning widely and showing off her impressive arsenal of pearly white teeth.

"Inspector, this is Rosy." A voice replied. Rosy was a young female skunk that worked at the precinct, manning the radio and informing on-duty officers of pending crimes or investigations. Carmelita had become friends with her over the years and had been helping the young spunky skunk to try and achieve the status and rank of Inspector.

"Rosy, I'm off duty, remember." Carmelita muttered. She had taken a hiatus after Sly had bailed on her, wanting to use the time to sulk.

"Yeah I knew that, but I thought you might be interested to hear that odd lights have just been reported at that new museum that just opened." Rosy replied with a knowing tone.

That jolted Carmelita out of her stupor.

"What, how long ago was it!?" She demanded quickly as she braced the radio to her cheek with her furred shoulder and scampered over to her closet.

"The call just came in less than a minute ago; I heard it and thought to give you a heads up." The female voice on the line explained.

Clothes flew out of the small closet as the vixen undressed out of her nighties and into her usual getup. "Who is on task for the investigation?" She asked as she slipped into her blue top.

"No one yet, the news is still circulating around the station."

"Well I want it, give it to me." Carmelita growled with determination.

"But I thought you were on hiatus." Rosy replied with what could only be a smile in her voice.

"Not anymore." Carmelita grunted as she holstered her shock pistol. "If its Sly, I have a few words to hit him with."

"I thought that might be your answer. I'll let the chief know, do you want backup?"

"Just a few cars and officers to create a perimeter, I'll go inside and investigate." Carmelita answered as she quickly exited her apartment and jogged down the hallway to her car outside.

"Got it, I will see to it, let me know how it goes." Rosy closed the connection as Carmelita turned the keys and ignited her cars engine. With a roar, it rocketed down the street and towards the museum.

As she drove she thought about all the ways she would take care of Sly, perhaps a few shock blasts or a well-placed kick to his sensitive area. Whatever she used, the dastardly raccoon would end up behind bars.

The thoughts or revenge made the fifteen minute car ride much faster and she soon found herself on the outside of the museum, parking her vehicle near the steps. Four cars were already there with uniformed officers walking around.

The vixen stepped out of her car and strode to the officer in charge, a German Shepard. "Officer Hendriks, what's the situation?"

The canine scratched behind his ear and filled her in. "We arrived about ten minutes ago, and so far we haven't seen any movement inside, or around the building in question."

She nodded and pulled out her pistol. "Alright, I'll take it from here, cordon off the museum and stay in radio contact. I will go inside and look around."

The dog nodded back and walked off, barking into his radio. Carmelita walked up the long marble steps and reached the wood and glass doors. She looked back before heading in and saw more police cars pulling up to the scene.

With a deep breath she pushed the large doors and walked inside.

*********

The interior of the museum was filled with glass cases chock full of pewter and ceramic relics. Other larger cases had many other things, ancient suits of armor, robes, weapons, and things of that ilk.

But she wasn't here for that, she was here to find out if the disturbance had been Sly. She scoffed in disbelief as she walked up a staircase to the second floor. "Couldn't even wait a week could he?" It had been less forty-eight hours and he was already back, in full swing it would seem. Why would he come here anyways? She already alerted her superiors of his plan, so why would he try and do it anyways? It just didn't make any sense.

Was it really Sly, or was something else going down here? There was only one way to find out.

She steadied her hold on her weapon and after checking the entire second floor, stepped up to the third and final one.

She carefully strode throughout the artifact packed corridors and had a question. Where were the museum guards? Shouldn't they be around too? The vixen had not seen any and supposed that there were none. It was a brand new building. Perhaps they had not been hired yet?

She shook her head and rid herself of the unimportant thoughts. She had to focus on her job. She had to find out what was going on.

Carmelita reached the last part of the third floor, a large rotunda that had a few of the more interesting artifacts, spherical orbs and strange constructs that seemed to glow with life. She had read about these a few weeks ago, found in a dig deep in the amazon. They were said to be remnants of a long forgotten and advanced race. She scoffed at that, how could something in the past be more advanced than them? It didn't make any sense.

Suddenly her long fuzzy ears twitched, she heard something in this room. Carmelita aimed her shock pistol and stepped deeper into the chamber. Her vulpine ears detected a sort of soft grating noise, as if steel was scraping against the marble floor. He heart began to race and adrenaline pumped through her system.

The vixen headed for the center of the room and her almost knee length boots stepped in a sticky puddle of liquid. Confused, she looked down and raised her boot and her eyes sifted through the darkness. Moments later her black nose twitched as an unpleasant metallic odor packed her nostrils and she saw that she was standing in a crimson pool.

Blood...

Now on high alert, she silently grabbed her radio off her chest and whispered into it, calling for backup. At the sound of her voice, something moved in the back of the circular room, near the left windows, the same odd sound.

Cautiously, the vixen turned to face the direction and slowly advanced. She also took note of the long pathway of red that led in that direction. It looked like somebody was hurt, and so she called out softly and kindly. "Hello, if you are hurt, I can help you, just come out."

She stopped and waited for an answer....and only received silence. Gathering her courage, Carmelita pattered closer to the end of the trail of blood. It began to get fresher and wider as it veered off to the left, behind a rather large display of staff-like objects.

Her vulpine eyes picked out a pair of legs sticking out from behind the large glass cabinet. She saw that a pool of blood was still manifesting around the figure and rushed over in haste, worried that whoever they were, they might be dead or dying.

When her amber eyes saw the figure propped against the display she gasped in shock.

It was a man, judging by their masculine physique, and they were completely covered in black and silver lined bodysuit that looked a lot like some high tech armor. His features were concealed behind a hood and a sort of silvery black mask. He was wrapped up in an obsidian cloak and she could see blood oozing out from underneath him. But what was the strangest thing was that he was holding something in his mailed gloves that looked almost identical to Sly's cane, yet she was positive that the bleeding man was not the raccoon.

She lowered to a half-kneel besides the figure and studied them in more depth as she reached for her radio. "I need an ambulance at the museum immediately, possible attempted homicide." She called over her device as she gently turned the wounded man on his back and dropped her gun to the side, she knew she would not need it.

Her frown deepened when she spotted the holes in his lower back and the one on each leg. Blood still pervaded from the openings quite frequently. She tried to rip the figures cloak to staunch the wounds, but could not with all her strength, tear the odd fabric. So instead she ripped up her brown leather jacket and used it to wrap it up as best she could.

After she tied a rather tight and painful clamp on the man's leg he hissed out in pain. "Deodamnatus..." He groaned and shifted before going silent, probably having faded back to unconsciousness.

She could not quite catch what it was he said as it was not anything she had ever heard before. That made her even more curious and so she looked him over more and was shocked to see that he had no tail to speak of. That in itself was strange and she wondered who this person was and why they were here. It was possible that he was a thief, but that did not explain the gunshots. Perhaps his accomplice or accomplices had a fight. But then again she had not seen any shell casings or smelt the acrid and bitter aroma of cordite and gunsmoke. That begged the question.

How did he get shot, and end up here?

She turned as she heard footsteps and lights and saw several officers walk in with flashlights on. She stood up and signaled them to head over to where she was. The officers all arrived and took in the sight of the vixen covered in blood and standing next to the man.

"Jesus, what in the hell happened here?" A male kangaroo exclaimed in shock as he studied the area with the beam of his flashlight.

"Looks like a heist gone wrong to me." Hendricks hypothesized as he looked at the scene.

"That's what I had thought, but then again, how come no shots were heard and I don't see any casings or smell the smoke. On top of that where are the ones who carried this out? These wounds look extremely recent." Carmelita cut in before yelling as she realized that they had all been standing there. "But that's not important right now, where the hell is the ambulance!? This man is dying!"

"They are on the way." A large black bear replied.

"Not good enough, here, help me carry him." Carmelita ordered. Grabbing the man's armored torso by the armpits and trying to haul him up. The other officers joined in and they carried the man down to the stairs, unaware of the eyes that followed them from the ceiling of the chamber.

They carried the man to the front where she could just here the ambulance's siren screeching as it approached. It skidded to a stop outside the museum just as the group walked out with the wounded man. The back of the vehicle was thrown open and two animals in paramedic outfits jumped out with a stretcher.

Carmelita watched as they transferred the wounded man to the pallet and carried him back to the car, slightly confused. In the fellow's grip still lay the cane and he was completely hidden under his suit.

She walked over to the two medics as a team of officers walked back into the building, going to sweep it for evidence. As she approached, one of the paramedics, a female tiger, was trying to get the mask off so she could get to the man inside. But mo matter how hard she tugged it wouldn't come off. The other paramedic meanwhile, a male boar, was trying to get the armor off so he could better access the wounds. But he had about as much success as his cohort. Carmelita heard their dilemma. "I can't get the damn mask off!" The female tiger exclaimed in anger and frustration as she still pried at it with her paws.

The boar grunted and tried to remove the suit. It was exasperating, to help, they needed to get the armor off, but it wasn't budging. At this rate he would die surrounded by the means to help him. Carmelita climbed into the back of the vehicle and closed the doors, looking closely at the man before placing a paw on his arm as the ambulance sped off to the hospital.

Like a whip. The left plated hand clamped down on her paw and he shot up from the stretcher and fired off a strange tirade that they could not understand. The mask shifted around as the man stared at the people around him. Jostling as the van weaved through the parisan streets.

At this rate, he would bleed out, especially if he kept moving like that. "Please, take off your mask, we have to help you." Carmelita pleaded.

He shook his hooded head as if confused and was silent. Carmelita softly squeezed the hand that held hers tightly. "Please."

The masked man looked down at the contact and back up before letting go of the cane in his right and reaching into the hood. A moment later, the hood pulled back and the mask clattered as it disappeared into the mesh-like wrapping around the man's throat.

The trio gasped as a strange face was revealed. They had never seen its like before.

He had no fur on his head except short brown hair atop his pate and a small gathering around the lower part of his face, like a beard that older males developed if they did not take care of their fur. His eyes were an odd shade of dark green that seemed almost blue and had a small nose that rested above a flat mouth with square-like teeth on the inside. Two odd fleshy ears stuck out from the sides of his head and the skin of his face was slightly tanned.

But his eyes looked glazed and distant, probably due to the loss of blood. He swayed drunkenly and collapsed back onto the stretcher, but not before letting go of Carmelita's paw to clench the cane with both of his gloved hands.

"What is he?" The boar exclaimed in wonder as he still worked, training preventing him from becoming too distracted. The paramedic felt around the collar of the suit and finally managed to find out how to take it off, pulling it a seal and separating the torso armor into two sections, the front and the back. The armor was pulled off to reveal a thin but tough under layer, that was also removed.

The man's naked chest was rising and falling erratically as he gasped, taking unreliable breaths. The tiger placed a hand pumped oxygen rig on his face and began to feed air into his lungs. Carmelita watched as the two worked on the strange man, his chest reminded her of martial artists she had seen in movies. Lean but strong muscles without a lick of fat on them, they were clearly defined on his body more so than anyone she had seen. She attributed it to the fact he had no fur to cover it up.

As she watched the medics saved his life, she began to develop a deep curiosity. What was going on here? Who was the stranger and why did he have a cane?

*********

Sly watched as the ambulance with Carmelita and the stranger blazed away with smoking tires. His interest had been piqued. Why did that fellow have a cane? It looked much like his, too much to dismiss as mere chance. No, something was going on here, and he was itching to find out.

But for now he would let the heat die down. Perhaps he would find out more after he gathered his gang. He was certain that Bentley could solve this mystery, that little turtle was a genius. And if anything went wrong, Murray could bust them out of it.

With a plan of attack set up, the raccoon bounded away on the rooftops, looking to find a way to get to America, where he could find Bentley. With a few of the artifacts he snatched he could pair for a plane ride their and back.

Sly chuckled as he leaped over a water tower and ran towards the airport. As if he would actually pay for a plane.