//------------------------------//
//  Prologue: Crushed Into Dust 
// Story: Sly Cooper and the Silver Dust 
// by Kingdom Harmony 
//------------------------------//


Crushed Into Dust


The blue Cooper Van dove through open road, the decorative fire paint job in the front barely visible in the darkness of the night. A pink hippo named Murray, or The Murray as he liked to go by, was driving the van in his favorite blue shirt, red gloves and red mask. Bentley the turtle sat in the back with his red bow tie on, tinkering with a pair of binoculars behind his bulky glasses. In the passenger’s seat was Sly Cooper, which the gang was named after, wearing a blue shirt, gloves, shoes, and hat. He sat there thinking to himself with his father’s golden cane leaning against him.

Sly came from a long line of master thieves that used the cane as a their signature weapon and only stole from master criminals. The Coopers did this partly because of challenge of doing so, and partly for honor. After all, there could be a challenge if they found a place of high enough security, but they was still not honor in this. Many of the Coopers even started to get the criminals arrested for their crimes when they were done them.

All of the Coopers wrote down their techniques in a book for the next generation and they called this book the Thievius Raccoonus. Parents would read it with their children they turned eight and would help them learn the techniques it holds. 

Sly remembered his eighth birthday all too well. He sat on his father’s knee as his father took out the book. His father opened it up when they heard the sound of a window breaking. Sly’s father told him to hide in a closet as he ran over to a safe, threw the Thievius Raccoonus inside, locked it, and put a painting up in front of it. Sly ran into the closet and closed the door. However, curiosity got the best of him and he opened it up just a crack. This was probably his biggest mistake. Sly couldn’t do anything but watch in horror as five mysterious figures stuck his father down. After they finished off his father they started to ransack the place, and it wasn’t long before they tore down the painting his father had put up. Rather than guess the combination, one that had a metal arm, from what sly could see with the limited vision the ajar door gave him, ripped the safe’s door clean off. The five took the Thievius Raccoonus and ripped out the pages, each tear leaving an echo in Sly’s ears. They divided the pages amongst themselves and left. Broke and alone, Sly was sent to an orphanage, where he met Bentley, which became the brains of his gang, and Murray, who became the diver and the brawn. Still, ever since that day, one thought echoed in Sly’s head. I have to get them back.

Later on in Sly’s life he found out the ones who killed his father and stole his family’s most sacred treasure went by the Fiendish Five, and were led by a man named Clockwerk. Sly and the cooper gang were now in pursuit of a lead on his location, however they have had many false leads in the past and Sly wasn’t too enthusiastic about the chances of this one being real.

“This better not be another false le…” Sly started to complain before trailing off at the sight of the town they were trying to get to, “d.” The town was completely demolished and any signs of life were long gone. It seemed like their lead was real, but even if it was, Clockwerk was long gone.

“Should we just leave?” Murray asked confused.

As much as Sly wanted to leave this horrible scene behind, he need to know if they could find any other leads. There was a possibility that, if it was Clockwerk that did this, he might of accidentally left them a clue that Bentley could analyze. “Sorry Murray, but we should see if we can find anything first,” Sly finally responded.

“There’s no need to apologize,” Murray let Sly know. “This is no trouble for The Murray!”
Murray parked the van and the gang got out. After a few hours of searching and finding nothing, Murray said, “Can we go now? This place is starting to freak me out.”

“Sly I think it’s safe to say there’s nothing here but rubble,” Bentley analyzed. “Don’t get me wrong, if I thought was chance that we would find something, I’d stay. It’s a tragedy what happened here.”

“I suppose you're right,” Sly told Bentley, “as you usually are when your nerves aren’t doing the talking. Let’s get back to the van.”

As they walked back, Sly thought he heard something in the distance that sounded like someone crying softly. Sly bolted off in the direction as Bentley called out, “Sly, what are you doing?”

Sly quickly found that the sound was coming from a the inside of one of the destroyed houses. The house he came to was in absolute ruin and didn’t have a single wall left standing. Even so, the roof was tall and still intact, depending on the amount of rubble under it, there would be plenty of room, and easy for someone to survive under. Sly found a weak point on the side of the roof and broke it open with his cane. As he suspected, the sound came from inside.

Even so, nothing could have prepared Sly for the scene in front of him. There was a small pony with a navy blue coat, a silver mane and tail and a pair of feathered wings, which was unusual but not really all that outrageous, Sly’s was a raccoon after all. What was outrageous was that this small colt was whimpering and sitting next to a unicorn mare with a blue coat and silver mane and tail, as well as a pegasus stallion with a navy blue coat and black mane and tail. Both the mare and stallion laid on their side, unmoving.

Sly look at the scene in horror. He saw himself as a child looking down at his father and just couldn’t bear it. Sly slowly walked over to the colt and collapsed onto knees before embracing the child with a hug.

“I know how you must feel,” Sly said through a stream of tears, both the colt’s and his.

“How could you?” the boy shouted back. “There’s no way you can know what I’m going through!”

“I know,” Sly said again. “I know what it’s like to lose your family, to need someone to turn to only to find yourself completely alone."

“Sly!” Bentley called over as he got close. Sly backed away from the hug just bit leaving his hands on the child’s shoulders as Bentley and Murray came in, looking almost as shocked as Sly had.

“Who are you?” the child sniffed.

“My name’s Sly,” Sly told him in a reassuring tone of voice, “and this is Bentley and Murray. They aren’t just my friends, they’re the closest thing to family I have.” Sly leaned down a little more till he was at the same level the colt’s giant yellow eyes. “Listen, we can’t stay here, and you will need someone to help you through this. I don’t want to leave you alone.”

The colt started to cry harder as he dove into Sly’s chest. “There, there, let it all out,” Sly said as he picked up the colt and stood up to leave.

“Sly, what are you thinking? We can’t raise a child,” Bentley said, trying to be the voice of reason. “We don’t even come close to qualified, not to mention the wrench it will throw into your plains…”

“I’m not leaving him,” Sly shot back. “And besides,” he looked down at the colt crying in his arms. “I think he’s a wrench worth keeping.”

“Okay,” Bentley sighed. Despite having lost the argument he seemed relieved. “I’ll run some numbers to see how to feed the new mouth.” Bentley looked over to Murray. “Even if Sly works over time, we may need to cut back on your snack budget Murray.”

At first Murray looked appalled, but then he looked at the young colt in Sly’s arms, then to the colt’s deceased parents, and finally back to Bentley. “You know, I think I can deal with that, even if it takes a bit of adjusting.” This didn’t surprise Sly or Bentley too much. If there was one thing stronger than Murray’s stomach, it was his heart of gold.

As the three left, carrying the colt, only one thought echoed in Sly’s mind. I have to help him. Nothing else seemed to matter.


To Be Continued...