Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Do you believe in destiny?

If you asked that question to Sonic the Hedgehog, chances are he would say no. He would smile and wink and reassure you that nothing’s set in stone. He would laugh, not unkindly, put a hand to his heart, and tell you that only you can control your life. 

He would be lying.

Sonic wishes he could say no, and mean it. But the truth is that long before he was born, he lived in the mind of the Ancient Echidnas, in prayers and prophecies largely lost to time. The truth is that his fate was sealed before he ever opened his eyes, etched in the aged stone of Angel Island by careful hands that promised power to a kid yet to come, that promised the world a savior to the likes which they’d never seen.

The truth is that maybe his life had been woven by forces outside of his control, scripted before he ever knew how to read.

He tries not to think about it too much. Yet fate and all its friends haunt him like a ghost, trailing in his footsteps and reminding him of their presence. He sees it in Amy’s tarot readings, some of which are eerily accurate. He sees it in Silver’s hopeful face, determined to save the future and rewrite history that hasn’t yet happened. He sees it in the Time Eater’s glowing mouth, filled with events past and yet to come.

Most of all, he sees it— feels it — in the chaos emeralds and their hum that no one but him can hear, beckoning him to accept a role that he was made to fill.

There are some days when Sonic does nothing. Contrary to popular belief, he does actually relax. If he were to be honest, constant peril does wear on him, though he’d never say it outright. He lives as much for the adventure as he does for the peace his antics tend to bring the Earth. It’s nice to quiet down.

There’s something so calming about taking a winding run and flopping down in a random field, letting multicolored wildflowers tickle his peripheral vision as he breathes in the fresh air. The grass is cool where it slides between his splayed quills, slowing his heartbeat to match the sway of the breeze.

It’s in these moments where he lets himself be, setting his mind loose and melding with the planet. Before his eyes, the sky turns into a moving canvas of oceans, mountains, and valleys in rich blue and bright white, spinning a world he’s content to view from below. Beneath him, he could almost feel the Earth shift, breathing like a living being in itself. 

Without realizing, the hum of the planet lulls him to sleep.

His dream is quite innocent at first. Dirt shifts under his shoes as he runs through a forest, surrounded by vibrant plant life at every step. The sun shines through the canopy, shadows of leaves dancing with light rays dappling the uneven ground. The occasional critter darts about, barely noticeable even with his enhanced reaction time. 

Running isn’t unusual of his dreams. Neither is the inconspicuous setting. He spends most of his waking moments moving, after all, and he was pretty much taking a hike through nature just like this before he fell asleep.

Then, the forest gives way to ancient ruins. Intricately patterned structures stand smoothed by the weather, crumbling in some parts yet clear-cut in others. Statuettes dot the pillars and niches, figurines of people he’ll never know. 

Recognition strikes him. Angel Island.

He realizes where he’s going.

His path suddenly drops underground and he whispers a temporary goodbye to the surface. The sound of rushing water is the first thing to hit him, then the vibrant brick-built structures of Hydrocity. Pillars prop up the high ceiling, ducts funnel water through the cavern until they break off and further flood the ruins. It wasn’t his favorite place, sure, but it was far from his least. He could commend the work of the echidnas.

In fact, he’s glad he’s here this time. He’s not sure why his dreaming mind decided to drop him in Hydrocity, but he’ll put it to good use. Gently pushing aside his aversion to water with a mutter of ‘This isn’t real,’ he tucks himself into a ball and spins at the nearest waterfall.

As he suspected, the sudden action forces the dream to show him exactly where it was leading him. The other side is thankfully dry, and the cold water slips off him like it was never there. Momentum carries him forward and he skids to a halt deep in the bowels of Hidden Palace, turning to face the mural that sprawls across the adjacent wall. 

A jagged crack behind him allows a ray of sunlight through the caldera’s opening to hit it at just the right angle, illuminating the shining green gem in the center. A man with a mustache and out-reached arms grabs at it, opposed by a blue hedgehog wreathed in golden fire. The whole thing is abstract; geometric shapes covered in lines and patterns, captioned with a language lost to time. Once vibrant colors have dimmed with age, but not so much that its meaning has been lost like the words have. 

It’s something that Sonic has seen just once, yet he can recall it in vivid detail as if it were drawn into the backs of his eyelids.

It might as well be, with the way it haunts him. For it told him the reason the chaos emeralds seemed to give him favor, allowing him to behold their power, the first in many years. He wondered what they would’ve done if he’d never found them, or if that was even possible when he’d already been scripted to take them on. 

If he never used a chaos emerald, what would he be today? 

What would the world be?

Questions like that hurt his brain. Yet he couldn’t help but wonder…

As if it could read his mind, the sunburst hit a particularly reflective section, bringing Sonic out of his thoughts. How long had he been standing there? 

Long enough for the day to shift, it would seem, the sunlight falling on the hedgehog instead of the emerald. Sonic steps closer on impulse, carefully reaching up to touch the history that he’d been bound to before it ever happened. A tremor runs through him as he brushes the cracked stone, accompanied by the ever present hum he’s grown to ignore.

A single question embeds itself into his miraculously quiet mind. ‘Why me?’

The edges of his dream crumble as he traces a finger over blue-green. He closes his eyes and lets it take him.

When he opens them again, he’s greeted by vast blue skies. It stretches across all corners of his vision, marred by a single fading cloud the color of fire. The belated realization that there was no ground beneath him only comes after the wind whipping his quills around causes one to poke a tender spot, and his attention flies to the fact that he’s falling. 

There’s nothing but sky above him and the unforgiving ground far below, yet he feels a disturbing sense of peace that seems out of place for a hedgehog about to be a blood splatter on the ground. Perhaps that says something about him. Or perhaps he’s just fallen enough times to know that he’ll be okay in the end. 

Something tells him it’s not the latter.

He realizes he hasn’t awoken.

This is the first time he falls. The charred Death Egg, its ugly death attempted by his own hands, would make its first descent alongside him. In his periphery, a red dot appears on the horizon. Tails, piloting the Tornado full-throttle in hopes of saving his newfound hero from an untimely death. He would be too late, but it doesn’t matter. Sonic knows how this plays out.

Seven emeralds slip out of his quills, singing seven notes in harmony as they circle him. It’s quite beautiful, their melody, yet there’s a hollow edge to it that he hadn’t understood. All he knew, back when he was still young and unversed with chaos, was that these seven gems he’s spent his time collecting and protecting held power that they were now offering to him. Power that he could use to save himself.

He embraces them as he would embrace the Earth, and they embrace him in return as if he were an old friend. That eternal hum ran itself through him and for the first time, his soul sings in tune with the emeralds. His breath is robbed from his lungs as it lights a fire in him, golden with potential, bright like the sun. In that moment, cradled in their support for the first time, the chaos emeralds claimed Sonic as theirs just as they were now his. 

Suddenly, at 11-years-old, he knows what it feels like to have all the world just a touch away. It’s scary, yet euphoric, the feeling of connection to everything from the stars to the sea. Then he blinks, and it all melts faster than he could comprehend.

This time, he realizes what’s happening before it starts.

This moment is something he dreamed about a lot, a moment of many firsts that he also wished to be lasts. The blue sky prior is replaced with the vast expanse of space, dotted with dying stars and fading galaxies. The broken moon disappears from view as Sonic falls, this time with intention, chasing the meteor bleeding gold in its descent.

Amid his desperation, there was confusion. By all means, the striking red-and-black hedgehog was more powerful than Sonic could compare to, not that the latter would admit it aloud. So Sonic didn’t understand why he won their unspoken competition. Why he could step into gold like a second skin while Shadow struggled. Why the latter exhausted while the former stood strong. Why the Ultimate Lifeform could not compare to a random guy who just wanted to live as he saw fit. 

The sentiment echoed in time with his heartbeat as he dove with an urgency he’s never felt, yet like Tails in the Tornado the day Sonic fell himself, he knew he’d be too late. It didn’t stop him from trying, begging the emeralds to save Shadow in the same vein he’d been saved back then.

They didn’t comply. Rather, the chaos energy bleeding from Shadow’s form circled back to Sonic, and he choked on the fire that he wished would fuel the other falling star. In vain, he tried to establish a connection, to loop energy to the fading hedgehog if only to buy time. Shadow took no notice of his efforts, but at least his expression was unmarred by the troubles that seemed to live there for all the time Sonic’s known him.

Ruby eyes pierce his soul as consciousness is returned to Shadow at the arguably worst moment. They’re covered by a haze that twists Sonic’s gut with such force something shifts inside him, like setting the last piece of a puzzle.

Tumult waves crashing into a jagged shore smooths to gentle tides. In, and out. Multicolored strands seep into the corners of his vision as he pushes forward with newfound strength, the chaos emeralds within him aligning in such a way that they felt an extension of his will rather than an outside tool. Unknowing, he takes up an irreversible offer and taps into a power he’s never dared to touch.

His entire form flickers with a spiral of colors he didn’t know existed. It melds with pure white, a concert of lights that floods his vision and coats everything he sees. There’s a strange feeling of falling apart yet being more complete than he’s ever been.

Almost there…

The two hedgehogs, one fading, one forming, brush fingers. Through the light cascading in his vision came Shadow’s smile, a tether to reality as Sonic realizes what he’s doing. 

In an instant, he stops, the force of the deceleration enough to kill him had he not been in Super form. All the blooming power snaps back to his core like a collapsing star, overwhelmed by its own gravity. In the time it took for Sonic to recover, in the time it took for him to blink, Shadow fell out of sight, leaving the former with nothing but the whispers of a goodbye and that serene smile to remind him of his failure.

Sonic chokes on the non-existent air. Despite burning with seemingly infinite power just a moment prior, he feels as cold as the void around him. He stays like that for a while.

When he restarts, it’s to grab the lost ring slowly descending to the same fate as its owner. The golden material buzzes with residual power as he wraps his fingers around it and presses it to his chest. The chaos emeralds hum stronger, like an urge. He shoves it down, then promises himself that he’ll never do that again.

Even as iridescence taunts him with that smile. 

When he opens his eyes, the setting sun greets him rather than the ARK. Sonic sits up in the grass, stray flower petals falling off his body, and breaths in the breeze that ruffles his quills.

It’s so scenic it hurts. Yet he can’t help but stare at it, a deep-rooted sense of appreciation winding around his heart.

“What do you want?” Sonic mutters, as if the landscape could hear him. Well… in a sense, it can. The same energy that pined for his attention ran through every living being in this world and more. That’s what this is all for, isn’t it? To appease him in some way?

The world answers his question with a rising hum and understanding floods through his head. ‘ You already know,’ it says. His dreams, his memories, play back like an old film reel, its edges soft as if it’d make him want to watch it any more. He shakes it out.

“No.”

It chirps in response, settling with a weight he wants to be rid of. Only when it sounds again does he realize that it is physically on his head; a little bird pecks at the spot where blue quills meld into fur.

He sighs, reaching up with a finger extended, gently coaxing the bird to stop trying to drill into his skull. It eagerly hops on the new perch as Sonic brings it down, holding it close to his chest. Beady eyes flash up at him before it pecks his fingers and flies off.

Sonic doesn’t want to follow it.

The green of the forest darkens in the reddening light, throwing long shadows that hide the hazards of the rough ground. He’s versed enough at running through trees in the dark that he doesn’t fall, thankfully. He'd say it was difficult to chase after such a small figure darting about above his head, but as much as he resists the chaos energy’s wants, he’s not willing to deny its benefits. He can feel exactly where his guide is at all times.

Realization sinks in like a stone in water, heavy with knowledge in the tide of ignorance. The melody in the back of his head lulls as he nears one of the seven chaos emeralds, growing louder, brighter, like it would convince him today.

Against his petty hate, Sonic stops in the clearing, toes brushing against the jutting roots of an old stump. The source of his irritation rests in the hollow, its glow strengthening as he leans in close.

“You just won’t leave me alone, will you?” 

The emerald flashes as if to agree. The hum rises with it, hopeful. Sonic rolls his eyes and directs as much of his thought as he could to firing sarcasm at its general location in his mind. He thinks he gets his point across when it dims, only to hear a sound akin to a violin strum through him.

The environment responds to the call in like and lifts. Suddenly, Sonic’s surrounded by fireflies, blinking a language he doesn’t speak as they swirl in a dance to mirror the stars gently peeking out of the oncoming twilight. 

He heaves a deep breath, brows knitting together as one of the bugs plants itself on his forehead. He carefully plucks it off, a look that could be mistaken for fondness weaving itself on his face as he lets it fly.

In his heart, he can pinpoint which beetle is the one he released, despite the hundreds of them it’s among. That’s what’s so special about chaos energy: its uniqueness in every individual being, no matter how small.

Sonic supposes he’s the most unique of them all.

The chaos emerald flares again. He crouches, gives it a long, hard stare, then picks it up with as little grace as possible. It, in return, is just happy to be held.

He runs a thumb over an edge as he holds it up to the moon now settled in place of the sun. A waxing gibbous, so round it could be mistaken for a full moon. He adjusts his gloved hand to cover the crescent of darkness missing, filling in the empty spot in his vision. Through the colored facets of the emerald, the moon distorts, and he could almost imagine it to be complete.

With a sigh, he drops his hand and shoves the rock into his quills. Tails will probably find some use for it.

The mist of fireflies pepper him with kisses as he walks through. Sonic gently waves them away, but they don’t seem to get the memo. Sucking in a deep breath, Sonic shakes them off and drops into a running stance. He can feel the pulse of the emeralds in the back of his head as he peels out through the forest, opposite the way he came, eager to take his mind off the events of the day.

Weight trails his footsteps like a shadow, forever tethering him to a fate he wishes to avoid. No matter how fast he darts through the landscape, he can’t leave it behind.

Chapter Text

Shadow the Hedgehog is bored.

It’s not something he ever thought he’d say about himself, yet he could think of no other description for the restlessness he felt. It manifests as a buzzing ache in his bones, flooding through his joints in a shuddering urge to do something. It’s an uncomfortable feeling, one he could not alleviate.

He’s in the company of little more than the steadily ticking clock on the far wall, and it was getting rather annoying. With his ears pressed against his head, he attempts to redirect his attention to the single wilting flower sloppily stuck in a cup on the table in front of him, glaring at it with an intensity unrivaled. Anything to shut out the monotony of seconds; the awkward, stiff couch underneath him; the stale air around him; and the frustration within him.

He shifts to cross his legs, as if it would help him at all. Almost gingerly, he brushes the empty space where his inhibitor rings used to rest. They were currently hidden in his quills for safekeeping, for he had nothing for them to work with. He misses their sturdiness. 

His hands fall back into his lap. Not even old habits could provide him peace. This room was his plastic cup, and he was that dying flower. Only, no one had the generosity to give him water to sustain himself with. 

He was just stuck, withering, waiting, wanting.

“Sulking again, sweetheart?”

Rouge walks into the room, Silver on her heels. The difference in the way they walked, one strutting and the other shuffling, would have been amusing under different circumstances. This time, Shadow just wishes he could move with half the efficiency Silver was.

At his lack of response, Rouge hefts herself onto the table, mirroring Shadow’s cross-legged sit as she waved her hand in his vision. He bares his fangs at her half-heartedly.

“Glad to see you too.” She flicks the flower and watches as a limp petal drops on the tabletop before turning back to Shadow. “You know, you could sit with us and the Chaotix if you feel so inclined to do something?”

Silver plops down at the other end of the couch, the shifting weight catching a corner of Shadow’s attention. Gold eyes watch the interaction intently, perhaps feeling too awkward to join in. When he notices Shadow looking at him, he gives a curt nod.

“Well?”

He shakes his head at both of them. He’d already given that thought its due time. “There’s nothing I can offer that you can’t already do. I’d be as useful as Omega’s powerless shell, and that’s a disservice to him.”

“Don’t say that,” Silver pipes up, leaning forward in his seat. “I’m sure there’s something—” Shadow cuts him off with a swift wave.

“I meant what I said.” He turns to Rouge expectantly, tilting his chin up in prompting. Her response is some sort of mixture between a sigh and a laugh, one hand going up to rub her temples.

“Tails reported that they’ve got Sonic. The doctor put him in a stasis chamber out of the way. He seems to be okay, though. There’s not much else we can do for them but wait for their arrival.”

It went smoothly, then. A drop of relief in a storm of failure. Shadow eases his shoulders ever so slightly. There were no more loose strings to pick up on, so the next thirty-three seconds, each marked by a tick of the clock, were spent in tense quiet. 

Unsurprisingly, Silver is the one to break it. “What do you think we’ll do after we regroup?”

“‘We’ is a big word,” Shadow scoffs, bitterness evident in his voice as he shakes his head. “You know I can’t do anything like this.” He gestures to himself, his pathetic form laid against the couch, too weak to even get comfortable. Not that he thought comfort would even be possible on the shitty piece of furniture, but the point stands.

Rouge places a hand on his knee and shakes him out of his misery. He locks gazes with teal eyes, almost daring her to try making right of this situation. Thankfully, she seems to accept that he’ll counter any attempt at consolation.

“Then you leave it to us, hun. Or, perhaps more accurately,” she smirks, “leave it to Sonic. He’s always gotten us through, hm?”

Shadow grits his teeth. “You put too much trust in him.”

“He deserves it!” Silver cuts in, admiration bleeding into his voice uninhibited. “He might make mistakes at times, but it always works out in the end! You need to trust him more.” He shifts forward to teeter on the edge of the couch, as if ready to fist-fight for his opinion. Lucky for him, Shadow is too drained to take him up on that, so he settles for words instead.

“I do trust him. However, blind faith will get us nowhere. Since none of you are willing to doubt him, I will.” Shadow rises as much as he’s able to, taking his back off the couch and supporting himself by planting his arms. He speaks slowly, methodically. “Sonic’s condition is unknown. I do not believe that the doctor would intentionally leave him with his chaos intact, yet Tails has apparently found otherwise. There is a piece we are missing. Do not treat him as a miracle, Silver. He could very well come back with more problems than solutions.”

Silver looks like he wants to protest, but no words come out of his open mouth. It takes a moment for him to snap in shut, narrowing his eyes at Shadow in reluctant defeat.

The three fall back into silence, letting the tick of the clock flood the room in place of words that could not be found. None of them meet each other’s eyes, though Shadow could feel Rouge’s burning a hole through his skull as he obstinately ignores them and stares at the drooping flower instead.

Suffocating, Shadow thinks. That’s the word for how this feels. Rouge has given up on forcing him into an eye-to-eye conversation, thankfully, but that was like pulling a drop out of the ocean. The ticks careen from annoying to aggressive, crowding around his head and clamoring for attention he wasn’t willing to give.

Then suddenly, a different noise shoves the incessant clock aside and Shadow latches onto it. Black ears perk up, flicking as they strain to pick up on whatever it was. The two others in the room follow his example, and the silence now seems a gift rather than a noose.

Slowly, it becomes clearer what the sound reaching them was. Two possibilities, and thankfully it was the better one. “The Tornado,” Rouge affirms quietly, posture relaxing. Silver breaks out in a beaming smile. Shadow can’t help but share a bit of the hopeful sentiment. Whatever happens now, at least it was on course to recovery.

It takes around three minutes for the plane to reach base, and another one for the mission squad to stumble their way through the door in victory. Well, only Knuckles was stumbling, awkwardly holding the unconscious Sonic with an uneven mixture of caution and force. Amy was walking fine, and Tails was hovering two inches above the ground, namesakes whirling to keep him aloft.

“We’re back!” Amy announces belatedly, fatigue in her smile and tension in her eyes. Tails looks up from his tablet in surprise, and Shadow supposes that he was the intended recipient of Amy’s message.

“Oh, hi! Um.” The fox taps on his screen, a small frown pulling at his mouth. He glances around the room, gaze distant as the gears in his head— supercomputer would be more accurate— runs course. “Something doesn’t add up here. Sonic’s chaos signature seems to be… stronger.”

“What?” Silver interjects, only met with a shrug of Tails’ shoulders. 

“I’m not sure. I can tell you the Miles Electric is functional. The readings are as accurate as I can get them. I’ve triple checked. His energy levels are definitely higher. Substantially, I dare say. But…” 

Everyone looks at the source of the puzzle, still soaked in green stasis fluid. That shouldn’t be possible, especially not if Robotnik had been busy draining the planet of all it had. 

Sonic doesn’t give any response. Not the slightest stir in his sleep.

Amy sighs, waving her hand in a directionless gesture. “Knuckles, could you put him down?”

The echidna nods and moves over to the couch… or tries to. When turning to walk, he shifts the hedgehog in his arms. Being unused to his newfound strength, or lack there-of, his grip is too loose. 

Shadow sees it coming. His mind reacts, his body does not— cannot— as Sonic slips from Knuckles’ hold and falls face first to meet the floor, the dull thud causing everyone to wince.

It’s an uncomfortable representation of how screwed the world is right then. Every single person in the room acted to stop the fall, and they all failed. Every single person in the room, save Sonic, is crippled. Sure, the ones less reliant on chaos like Tails and Rouge may not show it as much as, say, Silver with his outstretched hand, calling on power that was no longer his, but in the end the difference is minute. None of them are safe.

Sonic groans as he shoves off the ground, finally awake. He blinks, twice, attempting to wipe the green goop off his face as he squints around the room. “Uh. Why is everyone staring at me…?”

“I dropped you,” Knuckles answers, extending a hand. Sonic gladly takes it, only to topple right into his helper when Knuckles misjudges how much strength he needs to pull the hedgehog up.

“Dude!” Sonic shook his arm out, mimes dusting himself off, then playfully elbows his sheepish friend. An easy grin stretches in place, teasing.

For as observant as Shadow knew he could be, Sonic certainly failed to read the room this time. The fact is thankfully amended as soon as the blue hedgehog spins around and lays eyes on Silver, brows rising momentarily in surprise.

“World ending?”

Amy laughs softly through her nose. “Unfortunately,” she answers in Silver’s stead. “Eggman’s been busy.” She waves at Tails, prompting him to nod and start spewing somewhat of a mission report while she leaves momentarily to get a towel for Sonic.

“He has been siphoning the chaos energy from the environment and its habitants, including… well, us, for the past week. Anything that runs on chaos energy is out, except for Eggman’s robots. Cities that run on chaos drives are experiencing blackouts. Omega and Gemerl are offline. Any abilities derived from chaos have been severed, and people are or will be experiencing symptoms of chaos deficiency soon enough… if Eggman leaves the planet intact for that long. We don’t know what his goal is yet. It’s estimated that he’s reached most of the planet by now, leaving everyone powerless. Somehow, you’re still okay. I managed to hypertune the Miles Electric’s chaos detector to find your signature, and we found you in a stasis pod in an Egg Base.” 

Sonic pauses in his self-cleaning act, shaking his arms off. There’s a flash of muddled concern across his face, a glimpse of a fang poking into his lip. It’s over in a blink, replaced by a smirk despite the grim news. “Stasis? Isn’t that more of Shadow’s thing?”

Said hedgehog growled, low and filled with an empty threat. “Now is not the time for jokes.” Rouge stifles a snicker, not gone unnoticed by Shadow. He also sees Sonic rolling his eyes with an unreasonable amount of sass. Striped quills flare in anger; he wished it wasn’t as empty of a threat as it is.

“How much do you remember?” Amy cuts in, gaze flickering between the two. Shadow sees an attempt to mediate for what it is. Thankfully, Sonic takes the initiative.

“Well… last thing I can think of before I woke up was— no surprise here— Eggface. Y’know, standard fight: he comes in, I kick his ass, et cetera.” He taps his foot while talking, a habit that Shadow has seen him practice more than once. “Been a while since the last one, but nothing had really changed. At least I didn’t think so, but then…” Sonic’s face pinches in concentration. “He caught me by surprise. It was this ray gun thingy, but it worked in reverse? I—”

“So he did get you!” Silver interrupts. Everyone turns to look at him. Just as abruptly as he spoke up, he pauses, an apology on his lips as he flushes in embarrassment. Despite getting the go-ahead to continue, he passes the baton to Tails instead.

“Well. I believe Silver was trying to say that we’ve all gotten shot, directly or by proximity, with that… ray. I’m not sure what it is; I haven’t had the chance to investigate further. I do know that it’s Eggman’s active method of extracting chaos energy, so if he used it on you…” The fox trails off, leaving the unspoken question to linger.

How do you still have chaos energy?

Sonic claps sharply, as if he didn’t already have everyone’s undivided attention. “I don’t know,” he says, popping his lips as he scans the room. He purposely avoids Shadow’s eyes. “But I’m fine, so it works out for us. Now, does Eggman have the chaos emeralds…?”

“Yes, and the Master Emerald as well,” Knuckles confirms. Sonic cringes, fingers doing a nervous dance in front of his face.

His tic speeds up when Tails adds on, “We know the Master Emerald can nullify the chaos emeralds, but Eggman has managed to take it further somehow, reversing their purpose to absorb energy rather than radiate it. It’s fascinating, but y’know, terrible.”

“That’d do it,” Sonic mutters, too quiet to be purposeful. 

Unfortunately for him, Shadow has advanced hearing. Before the blue hedgehog could pop a smile back on and crack a witty response, he speaks up, “Are you saying the chaos emeralds have something to do with your state?” 

Emerald eyes snap to him in surprise. So yes, Sonic hadn’t meant for anyone to hear his comment. Quite an interesting thought.

“Well…” Sonic seems ready to bolt out of the room if given the chance. “Yes, but no. Kind of. Maybe.”

“What do you mean?” Tails and Shadow say in unison, though the former’s infliction was far lighter than the latter’s. The fox flicks to look at Shadow before continuing alone. “You’ve always had a weird relationship with the chaos emeralds— not necessarily in a bad way, of course. But to say that they’re the cause of this?”

“Weird relationship?” Shadow asks, but his words are drowned by Knuckles interjecting with something about the Master Emerald and its connections. Silver opens his mouth to add something, and at the same time Amy steps forward to calm the room.

Sonic stutters off and attempts to retreat into a corner amidst the many people talking over one another. Narrowed ruby eyes catch him in the act and he stops, offering a half-smile in appeasement.

‘Explain,’ Shadow mouths. The other plays dumb, an awkward shrug rolling through his shoulders. He glares in response, piercing, and repeats his demand. Sonic twitches ever so slightly.

Lucky for him, Amy succeeds in shutting everyone up with a sharp “Everyone calm down!” She then marches two steps and drags Sonic back in front of the group. “We’re going to map this out, you. I know you don’t usually do plans, but I’m not letting you run into this blind and brash. Now, what are we thinking?”

Knuckles punches his fists together. “We need to get the Master Emerald out of Eggman’s hands. I can use it to nullify the chaos emeralds and reverse what he’s done.”

“I don’t know,” Tails replies. “Eggman’s going to be hard to take down when he has literally everything on his side. Sonic would be our main offense, but he’s only one person and you’re pitting him against the might of the whole world. I say we should focus on the chaos emeralds. Eggman probably has the Master Emerald as the core of his mech, so it’d be much harder to reach anyway.”

Silver raises his hand. “But the chaos emeralds are supercharged right now, aren’t they? All the chaos energy they’ve absorbed is still there. Could we even use them before we revert them back to normal?”

“That’s true,” Amy says, rubbing her arm. “It could be dangerous.”

“Then what do we do? There’s always a risk no matter which way you go,” Tails rebuts. “We, with the exception of Knuckles, are more familiar with the chaos emeralds than the Master Emerald… I mean, we could go either option, but… Sonic, what do you think?”

The conversation halts. Emerald eyes are far away, deep in the lands of thought. There’s something about now that’s different from the few times Shadow has seen him like this, but he can’t place his finger on what. Regardless, the blue hedgehog snaps out of it when Amy taps his shoulder.

“Huh?”

“Did you even hear what we said?” Amy sighs. There’s a lightness in her tone that suggests it’s not the first time this has happened. She breathes in, likely preparing to reiterate the conversation, but Sonic waves at her frantically.

“Nope, nope! I got it, don’t worry. I just… have different ideas.” He turns his palms up in offering, glancing at everyone before continuing. “I do think we should go after the chaos emeralds. They’ll be freaking out, but I’ll be able to handle them. Trust me.” There’s a certain apprehension in his posture that causes Shadow to suspect there’s more not being said.

“How are you so sure?” He pushes, just to see if he can pry it out of the hero. Sonic blinks owlishly, a fair response given that Shadow has stayed silent through the whole back-and-forth. 

As expected, Sonic dodges the question. “Look, the important part is that I am sure. We can talk about this after my world-saving schtick, yeah? It’ll be okay.”

“And what if it’s not? I am asking for your benefit. Yours and ours. Take a look around this room. None of us are equipped to put up a proper fight against Robotnik.” There are slight huffs of indignation at his words, but no one denies it. “If you fail, there is no second chance. No backup plan. It’d be over.”

The crooked smile fades from Sonic’s face. Shadow gives him and everyone else a moment to digest the situation. “We cannot afford to take chances. This has to work the first time through.”

“It will.”

Despite the insurmountable odds awaiting him, emerald eyes hold nothing but earnestness, confidence, if not a sliver of secrecy. Shadow exhales. “I’ll hold you to that.”

Silence befalls the room. The air is thick with clouding thoughts… and…

Sonic notices first. Shadow can tell by the way his breath hitches, his hand going up to brush his forehead as he tilts it back. After being severed from it for so many days, it takes Shadow a moment longer to realize the electrifying tingle of chaos energy. 

Punctually, Charmy darts into view, crashes into the doorframe, and yells, “He’s coming!”

Not a second later, the world implodes.

Chapter Text

Sonic was not expecting to be buried in rubble today. Although, waking up covered in green goo and being told that the world was ending again wasn’t on his To-Do List either. Not that it was usual, but he was hoping things would stay normal for a little longer.

He groans quietly, feeling muffled commotion shaking through the chunks of what was once a wall. Part of it digs into his side uncomfortably, pinning him to the floor. He shifts his shoulders to try to get a good grasp on the thing, but the angle is so awkward that he can’t exert any strength to get himself free.

A lungful of dirt is enough to convince him that breathing was a bad idea, but unfortunately, he kinda needs air. A tickle of a cough crawls up his throat and he swallows it down thickly, chest expanding with effort. He twists his body with much desperation, finally managing to free just enough wiggle room. He wastes no time flipping into a ball, quills flaring, and spins out.

Dust clings to him in clumps where he hadn’t wiped the stasis fluid clean, making his fur stand on end. At least he could breathe properly now that he was free, a small comfort with the beginnings of a headache clawing its way to the forefront of his skull. He coughs and spits out the bitter taste in his mouth.

“So, they broke you out of stasis, did they?”

Hello, Headache Number Two. Sonic presses the heel of his palm to his forehead and sighs. “I’m glad you have eyes! So.” He waves his free hand flippantly, gesturing around them. With the most unamused expression he could pull off, he stares Eggman dead in the glinting glasses. “You do know that dramatic entrances don’t have to take out half a building, right?”

“Well, maybe if you lot didn’t hide out in such poorly built houses—”

“Hold on.” Sonic puts his hands up dramatically, because two can play the sass game. “You act like your bases are any stronger. Can’t count how many of those I’ve trashed. I’d say this place stood longer than most of yours combined.”

“You—! Listen, I’ve had enough of you, you little rat. It doesn't matter if you’ve escaped my trap, you have no chance! I have all the power—” 

Sonic tunes out the blabber as easily as flicking a switch.  It’s not like the villainous monologue was worth giving attention to, nor did he have the attention to spare. Any stray drops burn for more important things like the tightening death grip on his brain. 

He shakes his head and twists around, hands clenching at his sides, absently wondering how long it’d take for Eggman to realize he was looking at something else. 

He’d give it a good ten minutes. Maybe five if Sonic had any hope for the guy to learn to just get on with it.

Amy and Rouge are up, the former scrambling to get through the rubble to Tails and the latter looking for something— or someone, presumably Shadow. He didn’t look so well earlier. 

Knuckles is pulling debris off himself. Silver’s dust-covered quills poke out from behind the upended couch. Shifts here and there across the ruined room confirm the rest of his friends are at least alive, which means that Sonic will just have to occupy the threat while they recover. 

He locks eyes with Amy and she gives him a small nod. Go.

“Hey! We’re talking here!” Something akin to a bullet whizzes by Sonic’s face. Despite it missing, the crackle of chaos energy causes a stab of pain in his skull that phases his vision white. Damned headache.

“Yeah, you mean you’re talking,” Sonic corrects, hoping no one pays attention to the way he stumbles, just a little. “I stopped participating after you called me a rat. It's been years, Eggman! Just how many times do I have to tell you that I’m a hedgehog?”

“You won’t be one when I’m through with you!” Eggman seethes. A click of a button encases the doctor inside his newest— notably ugly— mech right before it swings its fist, knocking out what’s left of the wall in the process.

It’s fast, it’s aggressive, but it’s not unexpected. Sonic launches into a handspring, planting his hands on the metal panels and flipping over the attack with practiced ease. 

He means to smirk up at Eggman after, but the residual tingle of chaos from that second’s touch doesn’t sit right in his gut. He stares down at his hands. There’s so much energy.

In the reinforced cockpit, Eggman looks about as uneased and surprised as Sonic feels as he turns to the hedgehog. “You… you’re the anomaly I detected? You’re not supposed to have chaos energy! I took it! What did you do?!”

“As if I’d tell you that!” Sonic wipes a finger under his nose smugly. Seems like no one accounted for him to have his chaos intact. 

Sonic has a sneaking suspicion: the same thing causing the reverberating silence in his skull had likely recovered his energy levels— that being the chaos emeralds. It made sense; the emeralds were connected to him, and if they were getting overclocked with chaos energy, naturally they’d seek an outlet. Apparently, that meant giving him a massive headache that definitely didn’t help either side of the exchange-loop-thing he didn’t sign up for.

Eggman snaps him out of his thoughts with a barrage of angry bullets, all of which he dodges and all of which pepper the already ruined building with mini explosions that don’t do any good for what’s left… including the people. The doctor seems to be ignoring Sonic’s friends for the most part. It’s good in that they’re left alone, bad in that they aren’t being considered for collateral damage.

“I see how it is.” Sonic grinned. The gun stays pinned on Sonic as he loops around the mech, kicking up dust that mingles with the shock blue trail that he leaves behind him. “Catch me if you can!”

He bolts into the open, curling into a spin dash as he bounces along. As predicted, Eggman follows him. For a genius, he’s sure easy to play. Sonic swoops back and feints a few shots at the mech occasionally to make sure he doesn't lose the guy, but that was all it took for him to string Eggman along.

With a boost of speed, Sonic zigzags up a gentle hillock and twists to a stop just over the crest, facing the incoming mech. It spins in a circle, looking for its escaped opponent, giving Sonic a chance to take in everything he missed.

The slope he stands on offers him a great view of the situation, which was unfortunately worse than he was hoping. Aside from the mecha that Eggman was advancing in— rather fast as well; Sonic guesses that the amount of chaos energy running through it gave a boost— there was a giant sphere of death. Quite literally: it reminded of the many Death Eggs that have been built throughout the years, only smaller and not in space or careening to its doom. It was comparable to Little Planet.

With a twist in his gut, Sonic realizes that the chaos emeralds, all seven of them, were embedded into the sphere. They were going haywire. Even from the distance he was at, he could see arcs of pure energy radiating from every single one, flashing like fireworks.

He watches as a glowing line casts out and melds with the ground, tethering the Death Egg to the ground. A horrible resonance of energy ripples through the earth and Sonic shudders. It’s so wrong. 

The sharp ringing in his ears agrees.

A dirt cloud blooms next to him, spraying blue fur with grit. “Well, well. Do you like it?” Eggman laughs, having finally caught up. The mech whirrs as it stabilizes itself, trampling the grass as it adjusts its stance.

Sonic sneers, sucking a breath through gritted teeth. “Another Death Egg? Don’t you have any original ideas?”

Eggman leers out of his now open cockpit. “Oh, this is original, hedgehog. Why don’t you take a closer look?” The jab forming on Sonic’s tongue about finally getting his species right dies as the doctor smashes a button on his console.

Overhead, the Death Egg Mini cracks, panels sliding open and platforms shifting in place. The ring which the chaos emeralds sit on extends outward, connected to the spherical body with glowing tubes filled with… filled with unrestrained energy, multicolored, compressed into fluid form, and glowing like an open flame. It mirrors the cables on Eggman’s mech, only much more powerful.

Vibrant afterimages burn themselves into his vision. Sonic’s head pulses faster the longer he stares at it, yet he can’t bring himself to look away. A wretched desperation crawls up his spine, stabbing into his brain. His breathing quickens.

Eggman says something. The words jumble. All Sonic knows is that he doesn’t like the look on Eggman’s face, split wide with malicious glee as he drinks in his nemesis’s distress.

The mech lifts a foot with gusto, perhaps in attempt to squash the hedgehog standing next to it while he was still shocked silent. It doesn’t make it back to the ground, however, because Sonic slams right through the chunk of metal like a bullet to glass.

He expects to continue up, but he’s blocked by something shifting and solid, sending him bouncing back into the grass. He flips out from his ball form to find that Eggman had created a shield of some sort pieced together with translucent hexagons. 

It doesn’t take much to realize it’s made of chaos energy. An emotion Sonic finally manages to pin as anger boils in his gut, but a witty remark is all that falls out when he opens his mouth. “Cranked up the defense, huh? Glad you’re learning.”

Eggman’s expression sours. “Don’t patronize me, pest.”

Sonic would’ve blown a raspberry if the mech hadn’t swung around right then, giving him an opening to jump onto the offending fist. He wastes no time curling into a spin dash and aiming at one of the glowing cables protruding in loops out of the back of the mech.

He didn’t expect such an adverse reaction. Eggman had turned, even, and with his force targeted at a spot slightly off, he should’ve just taken a chip of the material. But as soon as he makes contact with the tube, it bursts like it’d been waiting for that moment.

Chaos energy spews out at any space the world would allow it. With a thunderous CRACK, Sonic’s thrown back, meeting the ground with enough force to send him sliding a few more inches.

He can do nothing but lie face first in the dirt for a moment, jaw aching, heart skipping, the explosion burned into the backs of his eyelids. He chokes on the scent of broken grass as he digs his forehead into the earth, the pressure alleviating the sensation of his brain trying to force itself out of his skull.

Somewhere above him, Eggman says something, reminding him of the battle he was supposed to be fighting. He peels himself off the ground and rolls left on instinct, saving him from getting stepped into a pancake.

He stumbles as he stands, the static black of vertigo overriding his senses. Though that’s over in a moment, the dizziness clings to him. It allows Eggman to clip him with a metal fist, flinging him back to the ground.

Sonic lets out a grunt on impact, but he allows momentum to bounce him back onto his feet. He scrambles to shake himself free of the disorientation bogging him down. The chaos emeralds aren’t so keen to let him go, however; a sharp screech like chalk on a blackboard causes him to falter in his step.

He ducks, and there’s a whoosh of air as the mech misses his head by an inch. His fragile balance is compromised when he backs into a divet in the ground, falling on his butt. Eggman raises a foot to step on him, again, but this time Sonic could only raise his arms in defense, blinking the spots out of his vision as he tries to push past the scrambled signals of the chaos emeralds and pull his thoughts back together.

An arcing pop sends another wave of chaos energy through his skull, drowning his attempts at gathering himself to something more functional. He’s lucid enough to hear a voice call for him to duck as something compact and sharp flies over his head, nearly impaling another cable on Eggman’s mech.

It’s a knife, he realizes, as Eggman opens his cockpit in fury and yanks it out of the metal, turning to give a few choice words to the assailant. One of Espio’s kunai.

Determination burns in the chameleon’s eyes as he turns his gaze to Sonic. “We’ve come to help.”

“Are you alright?” Amy yells, a few paces behind. She cradles a bent metal pipe in her arms, intent on wielding it as she does her hammer. 

Sonic can’t answer her question, dread pooling in his stomach despite his gratefulness for help. “You… Stay back! You don’t know what you’re dealing with!”

His friends falter in their steps. That dread comes to fruition when Eggman leans out of the mech with a sneer. “Backup? Now that isn’t fair, is it? Why don’t I even the battleground a little?”

“What are you—” The rest of the question doesn’t get to make it out of Sonic’s mouth. Eggman slams his palm on his console with glee and all the crowding energy pulls to one spot, bleaching Sonic’s vision white. For a second, his mind clears.

Then with a deafening crack, Metal Sonic pulls out of Chaos Control and lunges at Sonic’s face, claws extended and flickering with energy. Sonic dips under the attack, twisting around the robot and sending a swift kick to its booster engine.

He regrets it immediately when a burst of chaos energy sends a jolt of pain up his leg. He hisses, reeling back, but Metal grabs his ankle before he can catch himself and swings him right into Eggman’s mech.

“Enough of that! Metal, take care of them.” Eggman waves in the general direction of the destroyed Resistance base, eyes trained on Sonic as shock blooms on the hedgehog’s face.

“NO!”

Metal doesn’t heed him, charging at Amy as soon as the order was given. She blocks with the pipe in her hands, the metal warping from the force of the attack. The two slide several feet back, Amy’s heel’s digging tracks through the dirt, but she holds strong.

Espio jumps in to draw the fire, narrowly avoiding getting run over. Their saving grace seems to be that Metal cannot control the vast amounts of chaos energy burning through its system, crude calculations not primed for the surplus of power. 

Sonic, for a runner, was sure spending a lot of time off his feet. He pushes off the ground and shoves the clambering chaos in his skull aside, taking a few steps forward. Before he could do anything, Knuckles arrives on scene, taking the brunt of another charge in Amy’s stead. He swings a fist into Metal’s side and winces. Violet eyes meet emerald as he shouts, “Focus!”

Sonic blinks, letting out the breath he hadn’t realized he was holding as he whirls around, sidestepping a hail of chaos-charged bullets. Eggman sneers, unhappy that his surprise attack was foiled.

Since prior offensive tactics didn’t work, Sonic slips into defensive, trying his best to stay out of the line of fire while picking apart what he could do to the mech, preferably without causing another explosive headache for himself.

For once, he wishes they’d managed to work out a plan, because honestly? He was a little lost.

From looks and feels alone, the Master Emerald was in the core of the mech as Tails assumed. Sonic weaves around its legs and slingshots a little ways away for a better vantage point. Brightly glowing cables and tubes run all across the metal surface, sprouting out the back in an ugly mess. He knew now not to mess with those, but that made things much more difficult. Even if he managed to time his attack correctly and hit a flat spot, he didn’t know how reactive things were beneath the surface. The last thing he needed was to set off the ticking bomb that was the mess of energy in the mech and level the field, his friends along with it.

Eggman says something. It’s muffled by the cockpit’s bubble, crawling with hairline streaks of light. Sonic shouts, “Speak louder! Can’t hear you over your nonsense!”

The doctor does not, in fact, speak louder. The mech tilts as it raises a fist, charged with energy, and brings it down like a thunderbolt. The air fries, as does the ground, a tremor running through it as dirt flies up. Sonic, too, shoots up, though of his own volition. He boosts off a chunk of earth and aims his descent at the mech, grabbing onto a loop of cable and swinging a kick at the cockpit.

In theory, it was a good idea— and it worked! Only, any contact he made with the cables sent jolts through his body, hurting him far more than he hurt it. A less-than-graceful landing later, Sonic shakes out his arms, running a few laps around the mech for good measure.

He’s running out of ideas. The usual smash-and-go method wouldn’t work. The mechanics are a mystery to him, and everything hurts to touch. It doesn’t help that his miraculously dulled headache was now returning, a thumping heartbeat pushing against his eyes.

Sonic falls back to avoidance, dancing carefully between attacks with practiced ease. Even with all the power in the world, Eggman could not keep up with his natural speed— a small relief. It’s unfortunately overridden when one of the hands sinks into the mech, a glowing blade shooting out in its place. The light reflects off of Eggman’s glasses, hiding his eyes, but the rest of his expression shows surprise.

It seems that he, like Metal, was still figuring out everything chaos energy could do.

Sonic resists the urge to groan. He waits for Eggman to swing, then sidesteps the blade with a cheeky twirl, leaving the doctor to yank it out of the ground. A golden flash snatches his attention to the other battle playing out. 

Metal had pushed closer to the HQ, drawing out the others to take it on. Despite having been the worst affected by the chaos deficiency, Shadow stands his ground, fingers interlocked with the robot and face scrunched in concentration. Stray chaos energy sparks around the two of them, and Sonic guesses that Shadow was seeping the excess off Metal to sustain himself. It won’t last long.

Rouge sends a screw kick to its head, taking the focus and allowing Shadow to collapse in exhaustion. Amy and Silver help him away, the latter limping concerningly. Knuckles throws a punch at Metal, working in tandem with Rouge to take it on, but they are still painfully overmatched by the supercharged robot.

Sonic furrows his brow, then scans the battlegrounds again. He counts everyone but Tails. Last he remembered, the fox was one of the better of them. Did he get hurt?

“Eyes on me, rodent!” Eggman swats Sonic with an open palm, sharp edges in the metal clipping into his side. He hisses as he gets back up, immediately forced to dive sideways to avoid getting struck again. 

There’s a gash in his flank, he realizes belatedly. Nothing he can’t handle normally, as it isn’t deep enough to bleed badly. But as he watches, the wound stitches itself back together, no more than a stuttered breath to remind of what was once there.

Scratch that. A pulse of pain flashes through his skull, and Sonic deduces multiple things at once. His chaos energy was at an all-time high, enough to near effects he usually achieves only in his Super form. He’s not supposed to heal that fast. The surplus isn’t being processed properly and it was tearing him apart at the seams. 

The killer headache would only be the start.

“Fascinating.” Eggman leans out of the cockpit, the curiosity of a madman saturating his movements. “How are you doing this?”

“Does it matter?” Sonic spits. He springs off the ground and aims a spin attack at the doctor’s unprotected face. He’s backhanded before he can make it there, but it was worth a shot. He uncurls right before he hits the ground, skidding a few feet on landing.

Maybe he could take the mech off balance. The hole he punched through the foot was still there, with enough force…

A blip of color in his periphery shoots that plan before it could form. It was a Blink and You Miss It moment, and Sonic wishes he’d missed it. Far behind Eggman, red streaks the sky. An all too familiar biplane, piloted by an even more familiar fox, aimed right for the Death Egg Mini. Sonic’s jaw drops in surprise. Eggman reacts in turn, following his gaze and spotting Tails.

There is a pregnant pause, the world itself holding its breath as the Tornado pushes forward with all it has. Then Eggman turns around. He very pointedly grins at Sonic. “An interesting development, hm?”

Sonic doesn’t like the intentions behind that far-too-toothy smile. “Don’t you dare.”

“Oh, I do dare.” Eggman raises his hand so very deliberately, gaze locked onto Sonic’s as he brings it down on his console with much more force than necessary. The hedgehog tenses, gritting his teeth. But there were no dramatic movements, none of the expected theatrics. Only a pulse of chaos energy sliding through glowing lines.

Then, with a click, a panel pops open on the mech’s arm, holes carved into the metal that tell of all too familiar things. Sonic should’ve expected rockets.

Rockets that would have three times the firepower.

“Eggman, no.” Sonic’s fists clench at his sides, all of his willpower put into making his words steady. “This is between you and me.”

“And you have a soft spot I can exploit.” The mech swerves around and fires with a beep of target-locking and a burst of chaos. It seizes Sonic by the throat.

In a blink, he’s boosting off the ground, spin dash crunching into the side of the mech. As he suspected, the inner workings are just as volatile as the visible cables, and the spot he hit spews energy instantly. It acts as a propellant to Sonic, boosting him up and out.

He uncurls mid-air, the sky below him and the ground above him. He plants his hands on a rocket and flips over, stomping on the front end and changing its trajectory. It slams right into another missile.

What happens next is best described as a firework, or several. Only, Sonic’s right in the middle of the explosion, color and light searing into his vision without mercy. In an instant, the ambient chaos level spikes to insane degrees, and his body greedily drinks it in.

He usually only uses chaos energy through a conduit, or passively. This is neither of those— energy crams into every inch of space available as he fights to expel it, and it threatens to do to him what it did to the missiles. A whine of pain escapes him as he hits the ground, the world tilting sideways, ballooning right in the middle of his spotted vision. 

He crumples in on himself, pressing his too-hot head to the forgiving grass. It grows with the energy bleeding from his form, easing the agony ever so slightly. His consciousness dances the thin line between dark and light. Breaths come in heavy and go out shallow. The emeralds are taking a knife to his skull, desperate screeching killing any thoughts before they form. Well, all except one.

Tails.

He thinks he says it aloud. Shouts it. He’s not sure. Something leaves him, guttural and pained. It’s enough to get the red blob that is Eggman to shift, or so he thinks. Either way, the damage is already done. Sonic’s pretty sure he can feel every strand of chaos within a mile radius viscerally, including the fired missiles that are now aiming at a spot just off from the Death Egg Mini, at the Tornado.

At Tails.

He lifts his head up. He sees the explosion, feels it cutting into his soul. His vision phases in and out, but he keeps it trained on that one spot, waiting with bated breath.

Finally, finally , yellow. And it is Tails, he can tell, in a cautious descent. Relief floods through him and he feels like throwing up.

There’s noise, he registers. None of it’s comprehensible to his twice-fried brain. Likely, it was a warning, because not a second later, metal clamps around him and the ground falls away.

It’s Eggman. Of course it is. His mouth is moving, but the sounds are gibberish. Sonic would like to say something witty to cut him off, but he lacks both the mind to form coherent thoughts and the ability to verbalize them.

Chaos runs through the entire mech like blood to a living being, the pulsating Master Emerald the heart of the beast. Sonic’s plugged right into it, his overloaded circuits fighting to reverse the energy flow. The headache has spread from his brain down through his spine, bleeding into the rest of his nervous system.

He’s pretty sure if he doesn’t either shift to a higher form or purge the energy from his body, he’d die.

With that sobering thought, the chaos emeralds calm down enough to push that ages-old offer forward. White gold, like the stars and sun. Sonic takes a deep breath and attempts to tune back into reality.

He’s made his decision.

There is a giant ray pointed between his eyes. The same one that started this mess. The fact that he didn’t notice it beforehand spoke volumes on how out of it he was.

The doctor brings him in closer, the only thing that allows Sonic to hear him properly. “Well? Any last words, you blue rat?”

A rough laugh escapes him, levity masking the weight of the world. “Yeah.”

He reaches for that thread, light and alive, running through the machine to the Master Emerald, through the Master Emerald to the chaos emeralds. He looks up and smirks at Eggman.

Then with absolute conviction, he whispers, “Chaos Control.”

The sky shatters. Seven lights encircle him like planets to stars, like systems in galaxies. For the first time, Sonic embraces them as they embrace him, as they blanket him in divine faith like they always have and always will, forevermore.

The world goes white.

Chapter Text

Everything hurts.

Shadow drags himself out of the crumbling building regardless, clawing over chunks of debris like they were mountains. With the static filling his limbs bursting with pinpoint pains, he hoists himself over what was left of the wall, still standing despite its purpose of protecting long used up. His lower abdomen catches on the jagged edge and he can’t slide further. His feet have already left the ground, however, so he’s left seesawing, then tipping toward the ground face first.

He brings his arms out in an attempt to brace himself as his heels flip over his head. While it doesn’t work as well as he would’ve liked, he lands on his back with relative success. A grunt of relief escapes him.

The sky is remarkably clear for a doomsday event. It’s as if the world has not processed the past week. There is nothing but wisps of cloud for miles… except for the spherical abomination carrying the stolen chaos emeralds. The growing commotion of battle filters back in as Shadow grits his teeth and sits up. Now is not the time for cloud-watching.

As his vision goes from blue to green, he spots something that makes his heart jump into his throat. 

Robotnik has Sonic securely in his metal fist, the extraction ray protruding from the hideous tangle of glowing cables in the back pointing directly at the blue hedgehog. There’s a sort of resignation written in Sonic’s demeanor as the doctor booms, loud enough for everyone to hear, “Well? Any last words, you blue rat?”

Despite everything, a smile splits across Sonic’s face. It is tired. It is triumphant. It holds more meaning than any of them can comprehend. Shadow thinks he laughs, but it’s too quiet to hear over the panic in the atmosphere. Likewise, his words are lost.

They must have been important, because with a cosmic thunder Shadow feels something break, both literally and metaphorically. Glowing cracks split the Death Egg remake, bleeding the energy of dimensions. Seven multicolored lights drop down and fly toward their caller with all alacrity.

Robotnik turns back to Sonic at the same the Shadow does, at the same time the lights  fall in orbit with unreal synchrony. They swirl with such speed they blend into one another, forming a halo that descends as if crowning an angel.

The mech lurches into action, flinging Sonic toward the ground with a desperation better expressed by the horrified noise that comes out of its pilot’s mouth. The other fist swings at the hedgehog in the same breath. But it’s too late.

There’s a burst of chaos energy, blindingly bright, as what can only be described as peace washes over everything. Shadow relaxes, all the fight and prodding pains drained out and replaced with blissful relief for a moment. Even Metal stops, optic sensors focusing on the star igniting on the battlefield.

When the light wanes, there is something sidereal in Sonic’s place. He floats just above the ground, casting a light that attracts flowers lucky enough to touch the rays. It is… not the Super form Shadow has come to know, the one he was expecting. It’s something more . So much more. Something powerful enough to bend the sunshine upon lifted quills, reflecting a million shades that shifts with every moment. He’d call it iridescence, but it’s not quite the same. It’s otherworldly. It’s a star plucked out of the night sky. It’s so… beautiful.  

There aren’t enough words in the world to describe it. 

Shadow thinks there never will be.

The doctor stares open-mouthed at Sonic, and slowly, Shadow watches realizations bleed into his form. With it comes horror, the primitive kind that locks your joints and begs you to flee in the same strand. Realizations come to Shadow as well, though with more intrigue instead. Past evasiveness resurfaces in his memories, and he wonders what this really was. Why would Sonic keep this kind of power shut in?

Robotnik finally breaks the stunned silence with a chuckle, low and nervous. All the attention presses in on him. “Nice trick.”

Shadow can’t see Sonic’s expression at the angle he sits in, but the glowing hedgehog’s lack of response tells of an unamused stare. If anything, it’s unsettling, because Robotnik is quick to look away. “Well! If we’re done here—”

“No.” 

There are layers to Sonic’s voice. There are also layers to the meaning in that single word, so it’s quite fitting. The blanket tone is resolute, demanding, bordering on forceful. Something in the atmosphere shifts into place. It speaks of an end.

“I don’t take orders from you,” Robotnik sneers, covering his growing anxiousness. “I’ll be leaving.” The mech takes a heavy step back. Sonic stays exactly where he is. The doctor takes it as a dismissal.

It is not so.

Sonic raises a single hand. The glowing cables running through the machine grow brighter, bleeding energy into several strings that wind back to gloved fingers. Robotnik makes an undignified noise and slams several buttons on his console, freeing his rotund Eggmobile from the mech just as Sonic pulls. Hard .

Metal panels unravel as if they were never solid, spinning into glowing threads that Sonic uses to weave a mass of energy, amorphous but strong. It’s reminiscent of Silver’s psychokinesis, but there is an air of dangerous grace that accompanies Sonic as he takes the mech apart, leaving only the Master Emerald intact. Robotnik gapes at what little is left of his creation as it seeps into the ground.

The mass of chaos stretches into a serpentine form as it swirls around Sonic in a corkscrew pattern. His hands trace the space between; it’s unclear whether he’s controlling it or following. It’s mesmerizing all the same. 

“You know, I didn’t want this. But…” Sonic’s gaze bore deep into Robotnik like he held the thread of the other’s fate, like he held the power to write the last chapter of a doomed man. Perhaps he did. “We’re tired of you.”

He stops, never taking his eyes off his opponent, palm facing the broken Death Egg, fingers outstretched. As they all watch, the cracks expand, chaos seeping out and latching onto the edges. The metal crumples like tinfoil. The sphere implodes. The anchor lines snap up from the ground, whipping up and absorbing into the glowing mass. As soon as it all hits center, the thing goes supernova, flourishing colors flashing in pure white as chaos bellows outward in a cosmic cloud.

Something startles into Robotnik. Perhaps he’s finally realized that there is nothing barring the prismatic hedgehog from giving him the same fate as his machines. With panicked clumsiness he swerves the Eggmobile around, hissing, “Abort! Abort!” Shadow’s pretty sure the message is meant for Metal Sonic, because the metallic copy snaps out of its trance, fires its rocket, and zooms away in a cloud of dust and dirt. 

Sonic finally turns, and Shadow gets a glimpse of bright magenta eyes. They spare the escaping Metal no more than a glance, attention instead going to the doctor’s pitiful attempt to do the same. Sonic moves his hand in a swift arc and the serpentine chaos energy flies up to collect its twin, the nebulous form twisting into strands that meld into a greater whole. It curves back around, swooping down right in front of the Eggmobile and intercepting Robotnik. It possesses all the grace of a swallow in flight. Quite hypnotic. Shadow could watch it move for hours if it wasn’t so bright it burned.

Sonic places a hand on the Eggmobile and spins it around. Robotnik leans back as far as possible, as if that would help his case. “No means no. You’re not getting away this time.”

“You wouldn’t… you wouldn’t really… ” Robotnik strains. The other part of his thought does not need to be said to be known. The atmosphere is thick with anticipation that reaches even where Shadow rests.

Sonic smiles distantly. He leans uncomfortably close to Robotnik’s face. “This is for all the times we’ve thought the same about you.”

Shadow gets the feeling that the we Sonic was referring to were not his friends, who all looked on with wide eyes and open mouths from below.

“Well?” he says, cold, unflinching. “Any last words, doctor?”

“You—! You can’t kill me!” Robotnik’s voice is unnaturally high as he speaks, a desperate plea underlining his words. “Sonic!”

“We’ve always been able to. There’s a line. And you crossed it.” Sonic moves back. Robotnik moves forward. He opens his mouth to say something, but nothing comes out.

“Goodbye.”

All the tension holding the chaos energy together snaps in something akin to an explosion, only more fluid. White floods the world, obscuring the two figures in the center. Shadow looks away for the sake of his retinas.

When the light wanes, Robotnik is nowhere to be seen. Chaos dances around Sonic in plumes like morning fog, and the hedgehog looks like a god descending in midst of it. There’s a somber quality to his form as he falls gently. The world holds its breath. Shadow finds himself doing the same.

The moment red shoes touch the ground, a pulse runs through the earth and sky. Shadow gasps as chaos floods his entire being at once, burnt orange sparks flying as he struggles to adjust. His insides feel like they’re tearing apart as energy snaps back into empty crevices. He has just enough mind to reach into his quills for his inhibitor rings, clipping just two on his ankles for now.

The pressure in his veins ease, the blood flow in his ears wanes, and he breathes a stilted sigh of relief. There’s commotion around him, the silent spell broken with the return of life. He catches a few calls of his name, and even more of Sonic’s.

He looks up. Magenta eyes greet him, more emotion than waves in the ocean harbored in those shimmering irises. It’s equal parts dark and light, serious and vibrant. Shadow blinks and it’s gone, along with Sonic himself, nothing but traces of energy to prove he was ever there.

A shadow falls on him. Rouge touches down a few feet to his right, quickly closing the distance for a hug. When she lets go, she says something that Shadow can’t quite focus on. Just behind her, Amy runs past and collects Tails in a hug of their own, scolding in her voice but relief in her heart. They both glance at the spot where Sonic stood, something unrecognizable in their gazes.

He feels strong arms pick him up. He lacks the mind to object as he’s carried away, the rejoicing battlefield growing fainter behind him.

The breeze ruffles his quills as he walks a familiar path, well worn by many races. He’s careful to keep his footsteps quiet, his breathing calm. Just ahead, a blue hedgehog sits in the grass, legs dangling over a cliff ledge, swinging periodically. Seven lights, each tinted a different color, float around him in a moving constellation. They speak of divine power, of explosive potential just beneath the surface.

Not to say that there was ever a doubt that Sonic was more than anyone realized, but… Shadow can’t help but wonder why he has them, of all people, across all timelines.

He steps on the end of the established trail, where worn dirt fades into growing greens. He makes no announcement of his arrival. He knows Sonic will notice, regardless. Despite the less-than-smart persona the hero displays, he could be surprisingly attentive.

It still takes longer than Shadow expects for Sonic to speak up, though he thinks it was a silent wish to be left alone rather than ignorance. However, both hedgehogs are equally stubborn, and today the former has a mission to accomplish.

“Shadow.”

Shadow lets out a puff of air, too quiet to be audible to Sonic. He takes his cue to walk closer, stopping just out of range of the orbiting lights, but at an angle where Sonic would be able to see him in his peripheral vision. He folds his arms in front of his chest. “Two weeks.”

Sonic sighs. It’s heavy with things unsaid. He kicks his leg with more force than necessary, taking a clump of dirt out of the cliff when he brings it back. “Yeah, yeah. I should probably head back. You’ve been looking for me?”

“Since the morning started.” Shadow turns his gaze to match the other’s, staring out into the expanse of nature spanning miles after the cliff drop, gently lit by the morning twilight. He sighs quietly. It’s so beautiful that he’ll never grow bored of it, even though he’s seen it hundreds of times by now. “I knew you’d be here.”

That coaxes a laugh out of Sonic. “Don’t give yourself too much credit.”

Shadow pauses, gaze trailing back to the blue hedgehog. His memory rewinds to opalescent white and stunning magenta, to that stare worth a thousand words. “You wanted me to find you.”

“Hmm. I will neither confirm nor deny,” Sonic hums. “But better you than someone else.” He stretches lazily, then throws his head back to look Shadow in the eyes. “Well? Speak now or forever hold your peace.”

“What was that?”

“Which that are you talking about?”

Shadow hates how it’s both a genuine question and a poke at everything he doesn’t know. “All of them.”

Sonic snorts, rolling his eyes. “That’s too many. At least give me a starting point, Shads.” He pats the ground next to him, inviting his rival to sit. Shadow declines with a frown. Not yet.

“What are they?” He gestures at their seven companions, narrowing his eyes at them. The green one floats up to him with more intent than he’s comfortable with lending to something that’s theoretically inanimate.

“The chaos emeralds. Well, less emerald-y and more blobby, but they’re the same thing.” Sonic snaps his fingers and the green light retracts, landing in his palm. He winds his arm back and throws it off the cliff in one fluid motion. The two watch as it curves through the air in a figure-8 and back to rejoin its counterparts.

“They listen to you,” Shadow comments. The emeralds spin around each other like a carousel. He leans back when they get too close, but they pay him no attention.

“It’s mutual,” Sonic shrugs flippantly, like it was a perfectly normal thing to have a bond with ancient powers. Shadow blinks owlishly, face twitching with all the questions he wants to fire. A lazy, amused smile grows on Sonic’s face at that. He tilts his head childishly and flicks his fingers before explaining.

“Yeah. The emeralds are kind of alive. It’s weird. They have a single consciousness but individual personalities— or as much personality as millenia-old rocks can have. They don’t talk so much as project. I feel them in here.” He taps his temple twice, then moves his hand up to comb his fingers through his quills.

“...Why? Why you?” Shadow lifts a hand hesitantly, not quite reaching out to touch one of the emerald-lights. The green one flies up to him again and brushes his finger. It sends a buzz through his bones and he startles, curling his hand into a fist.

Sonic looks as distant as the horizon, staring right past everything and into space. “Great question. I ask that one a lot. I wish I could tell you, Shadow, I really do. But I don’t know. I’m just ‘ The One’ I guess. No refunds.”

“That can’t be it.” As soon as those words leave his mouth, however, Sonic frowns, muzzle scrunching in distaste. There’s something bitter and sensitive to this topic, which is probably also the reason he kept it so hidden.

“Maybe! Maybe I’m some cosmic force that they’ve been looking for. Or maybe I was just conveniently close by. I don’t know, and I’ve spent years searching in circles for an answer that I’ll probably never find. I just happen to be the right one, at the right place, at the right time. That’s it.”

The lights flutter at Sonic’s agitation, a few floating closer and bumping him like pets trying to comfort their owner. Sonic glares at them, frustrated and sorrowful. “Go away.”

They comply, falling in line as they file into a space between dimensions, out of sight but not out of reach. Once the last one is gone, Sonic sighs. “Sorry.”

“No. I’m the one who upset you.” Shadow dips his head in apology, if only to be polite. He hears Sonic sigh again, this time lighter, before patting the ground beside him, re-extending the offer to sit. Shadow hesitates for a moment before taking it.

There’s a few minutes of ambient silence as they adjust, reaching for equilibrium. It’s lonelier without the emeralds surrounding them like fireflies, but at the same time, they’re now just a breath away from each other. The illusory connection more than makes up for the lessened physical presence.

Sonic breaks the trance with a voice barely louder than a whisper. “Everything’s okay now, right?”

Shadow nods. “Robotnik hadn’t destroyed much physically, so rebuilding efforts are small. Most things are running smoothly. GUN have taken it upon themselves to decommission the doctor’s remaining bases. Your friends are looking for Metal Sonic. They recovered quickly once you returned the chaos energy.”

Relief brings out a smile on Sonic’s face. “That’s good. That’s good.”

“What about you?” Shadow reaches, as natural and careful as he could muster. Sonic is not usually inclined to disclose his true feelings. He hoped two weeks was enough time for him to stew in his problems alone.

His hopes are raised when Sonic answers with, “I’m…as okay as I can be, I suppose. I’m in between things. It’s weird.” 

The start is there. It’s deflected with the next words, but it’s something Shadow can work with. “Does GUN need any help wrangling the Eggbases? I would appreciate some destruction. I’m getting bored, anyway!”

Shadow shakes his head. “Most of them are defunct: either abandoned or destroyed already. Robotnik isn’t around to operate them anymore, it’s just mindless traps and pre-programmed operations.” Sonic’s face drops a margin, something akin to regret bleeding into his irises. He pokes at it. “You killed him, Sonic. Robotnik— Eggman— is gone. It’s over.”

“It’s over,” Sonic echoes. There’s a tinge of melancholy, a tremble so small it could’ve been the wind. “Yeah, I did that, didn’t I?”

“Is that not what you wanted? Or what we wanted?” The we Shadow is speaking of is not their friends, allies, or even their world as a whole. It is the same we that Sonic referred to then, overflowing with power and holding fate in his hands. He does not miss the way the blue hedgehog flinches ever so slightly, and he pours that knowledge into his expression. ‘ Talk to me,’ it says. ‘ Please.’

“Kind of. I don’t know. I suppose I always knew he couldn’t be saved. That one day one of us would win the war. But he’s always been there. And now he’s not. I… we, the chaos emeralds and I,” Sonic waves his hand at the pocket the lights disappeared into, “we thought it necessary. And in a way, it was. That doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

In the silence that follows, Shadow nods, slowly, slightly. Acceptance. He supposed he’d never really understand why Sonic feels bad for killing the man who’s tried to do the same to him more times than anyone could track. The hero works in mysterious ways. All Shadow could do is accept it.

“Let’s talk about something else,” Sonic prompts. He’s likely losing patience, or attempting to deflect again. Shadow chooses his next words carefully.

“Alright. What about you and the chaos emeralds? Your new form. Did you know that would happen?”

“I…” A million emotions flash in emerald eyes, and for a moment Shadow is afraid he said the wrong thing. But Sonic settles on something softer, resolute and forlorn, before breaking eye contact to look into the wild below them.

Silence stretches between the seconds, not even the wind to stir them. “You…?” Shadow prompts, hesitant.

“...Remember our first adventure?” Sonic settles on. Tension bleeds into his posture as he shifts where he sits, as he pulls his legs against his chest and hugs his knees. Shadow gets the feeling that this is important. He goes along.

“When I tried to destroy the world?”

“Yeah, that’s the one. We raced on the ARK and I… you asked me what I was.”

Shadow hums, the memory returning to him like it just happened yesterday. He wonders how he could ever forget. “Just a guy that loves adventure.”

Sonic smiles. It’s unlike the ones he usually wears: not disingenuous nor real. It’s broken in places and fraught with emotion that does not typically entail a smile. “That was a lie,” he whispers. “It was a lie then and it’s more of a lie now. Back then, I believed it. I wanted it to be true. I wanted to be unbound. You know what’s ironic?”

He looks up at Shadow, his expression as fragile as stained glass. “That day you fell. I tried to save you. I nearly did. The emeralds, they offered me everything for the first time. I took their hand and I felt… infinite. And I realized I was anything but just a guy. I still tried to be. It didn’t work.”

He trails off. Shadow opens his mouth to say something. Wise words, reassurances, something, anything. His mind fails him as does his body. It’s alright though, because Sonic doesn’t seem to mind. This is clearly something he’s kept in for a while now, but all dams are bound to break, and today is the day for this one.

“It’s so stupid. I talk about freedom and carving your own path and following your heart but I’m stuck in a circular maze. I can’t leave no matter how fast I run or how long I travel. Turns out doing your own thing seems easy enough until the power of gods decides that it wants you for some reason and you get to deal with it for the rest of eternity!”

Those last words tumble out like a wave hitting rocky shores, explosive and stunning. Sonic stops abruptly and sucks in a shaky breath. “Too much?”

Shadow shakes his head. The air flooded with emotion, but he never felt drowned. More like the high tide rolling in, easy to get lost in but not dangerous by design. “It’s okay to get overwhelmed. It’ll be okay— you’ll be okay, Sonic. This won’t last eternity.”

There’s a moment where they’re not aligned, two different wavelengths overlapping. Something strikes emerald eyes and Sonic laughs. It sounds as brittle as his smile. “It will be. That’s the worst part. You don’t… you do, actually. You’re probably the only one who could understand.”

It takes a moment, but Shadow realizes. A fact tucked away to the fringes of his mind, because it was too complicated to process and too heavy to carry around. A biological miracle, an alien cure, a perfect being, life at its very best. When he speaks again, he whispers. “Immortality.”

“Immortality,” Sonic affirms, and Shadow sees the reflection of a haunting infinity in those eyes. He wants to provide the blue hedgehog comfort, but he has not yet reconciled with himself. He can only watch as the other reaches beside him and plucks a flower from the ground. Contrarily, it reinvigorates when pinched between gloved fingers, colors livelier and strength returned. Sonic brings it around and tilts it toward Shadow.

“Once, I told someone that every world has an end. That we have to make the best of the time we have. It’s the way I’ve been living life. But it doesn’t make sense any more. Life will be forever. I mean, I’ll move on— that’s what I do. I just gotta pick a new motto or something, I guess. I don’t know. I… I’m scared.”

With that confession, the dam is drained. Silence settles. It’s a difficult thing for both hedgehogs to admit fear, so it only garners respect. 

Shadow gently takes the flower from Sonic. It reminds of the one wilting in a plastic cup, the one that died the day Robotnik destroyed the HQ. He turns it in his hands. “We’ll figure it out. Together. We’ve got forever, right?”

At that, there’s a certain light that returns to emerald irises, and the sunrise heals Sonic’s smile. Shadow dredges up some emotion in an effort to return it.

The breeze blows by, taking the flower from Shadow’s loose grasp and carrying it over the chasm before them. Sonic’s smile grows as he tracks its movement. “Together… Yeah. That sounds nice.”

He pops to his feet, a lazy stretch flowing through his limbs. Shadow stays seated, watching mischief bloom in Sonic’s demeanor. They meet eyes and the hero flashes his iconic smirk. “I’ll be leaving now. They’re waiting, yeah? See ya later!”

A twirl and two steps back send him over the cliff, a whoop catching in the wind as he falls. Shadow’s heart skips despite logic saying that Sonic’s pulled this stunt millions of times before, leading him to peek over the ledge at the dizzying height. 

Seven lights swirl out around Sonic moments before he disappears into the forest canopy, trailing behind single-file like birds in formation. Shadow watches until he can’t, until blue melds with green in perfect harmony.

He smiles softly. They’ll be okay.

Chapter Text

Despite the fact that Sonic was now a living biological anomaly, the rest of the world didn’t change much. Sure, he had the chaos emeralds following him around like ducklings— ducklings with enough power to rewrite reality— but apparently the world had seen weirder. Or, maybe the many years of almost ending catastrophically had just desensitized it to such things. He wasn’t exactly sure, but…

Tails still tinkered, grand projects and elaborate machines filling their house with the shine of metal and the taste of innovation. Amy still loved everyone and everything with a passion only she possessed; still laughed with a sparkle and gave bone-crushing hugs like she always did. Knuckles still returned to Angel Island, ever the recluse, and they still visited to rope him into their adventures whenever they found reason to. 

Despite that talk with Shadow, nothing much changed between them either. They still fought like rivals, they still shared quiet moments like friends, they still stole hidden glances with unspoken thoughts like they always have. The eternity that now connected them was only acknowledged on that cliff ledge where they occasionally rest, the silence between them saying more than enough.

The familiarity was nice. It quelled the part of him that feared.

Then, things started rolling. Not to say that wasn’t normal, too. Life wasn’t stagnant, and Sonic would hate it if it were. In that way, he was glad. 

They finally tracked down Metal Sonic. And by ‘they,’ he meant GUN. Sonic knew where Metal was. Its circuits were still flooded with energy that slowly consumed everything it was made of— it was easy to feel. The robot would have to drop off the face of the planet before Sonic needed any conscious effort to find it.

Sonic had to give Metal credit, though: it’d managed to evade the prying search operations run by GUN for just over a year, despite having nothing but broken commands from a dead master and its own conscious drive to protect itself. 

Perhaps it would have hidden longer, if Tails hadn’t convinced Sonic to give an anonymous tip to GUN on its whereabouts. He isn’t sure why he hesitated in the first place. He isn’t sure why he hadn’t sought it out himself, either.

Metal had been a ticking time bomb in the sense that it was horribly unstable, a ball of cosmic fire barely contained in a metal shell. Sonic guessed that it would have been breaking down by the time they found it— energy overflowing from every crack and tear, killing the robot in a more violent version of the bleeding-out organic beings do. Metal had no means of properly channeling the energy, after all. It never had as much finesse as Sonic did.

He only wished he could have been there, when his robot copy fell to Omega’s gunfire, if only to see Metal off. There had been no contest between the two badniks, for not a moment after he got the news that Omega had found Metal, he felt a burst next to his heart and a high note on his ears, chaos energy returning to its center in one fell swoop. 

The deed was done. 

Aside from empty bases slowly overtaken by GUN and reformed badniks freed from programmed evil, that was the last of Eggman’s empire, never come to fruition. There were only memories now, and jagged marks where impacts were slow healing, but still healing. It… it was freeing, and it was oh so hollow, like a house with no furniture, the echoing space begging to be filled. The move-in would be arduous and remarkably slow.

And even then, he thinks, the victory would never feel like a victory, the house never really his. It was a sobering thought. Sonic chose to keep it to himself, and found other things to occupy his reaching mind.

Sometimes, he could almost pretend that nothing had ever changed at all. That it wasn’t fluid chaos running through his veins but regular, crimson blood, complete with cells that grew and died. That he still grew, like a normal being would. 

It was harder to do as time passed. As Tails grew taller and Sonic had to look up instead of down; as Amy got a pair of glasses, gold-rimmed and clear-lensed; as Cream matured and grew out of the Misses and Misters; as Rouge lamented over the wrinkles on her face; as Knuckles broke away from Angel Island for longer and longer bouts; as the world spun and time flew and birthdays went by like birds over the horizon or petals on the breeze.

It’s hard to ignore the way he stayed the same despite it all.

Sonic hums distantly, tune hitching as he flipped through the photo album, its pages glossy and decorated with doodles and stickers. Years go by in seconds, captured in little moments and great achievements, wide smiles and surprised eyes, genuine messes and perfect poses. He lets out a slow exhale through his nose, thumbing a photo from two days prior.

He follows the arm holding the camera down to Amy, glasses reflecting the light in white stripes, almost as bright as her smile. He stands beside her in the photo, his expression undeniably soft. There is a touch of amusement, which was from Tails’s hand on his head. The fox stands tall behind him, a smirk passed down from his brother on his lips.

Sonic rubs his eye with the heel of his palm. It seems only yesterday when Tails was a kit, six-years-old and full of awe, just over half the hedgehog’s height. Now it was the opposite: Sonic barely reaches Tails’s shoulders.

He shuts the book with a muted thump, a small sigh escaping him as he studies the stickers covering the front cover. It takes a moment before the stillness gets to him and he flips it back open. Amy’s bubbly handwriting welcomes him to the beginning of the album. It makes him smile.

He takes more care in working through its pages, this time. He watches himself grow, sky-colored quills deepening to true blue, face thinning and body losing its roundness. He can tell when they’ve just come back from adventures, can see the tiredness in his smile and the fading adrenaline in his eyes. But at a certain point…

He looks exactly the same. His expressions, his poses, they vary, but he no longer changes. No subtle shifts as his body keeps up with his ambitions, no scars with stories of recent fights, no wrinkles wrought from years of smiles. There are pages and pages of photos where he occasionally appears, out of place on an aging planet where everyone else grows and thrives like normal and he’s stuck exactly as he was that day the world bowed to him.

Sonic can feel the chaos emeralds humming in his head, pushing against the veil of reality at his emotional surge. They whisper of comfort and kindness. But the last thing he needs is to see them, so he shoves them back into the fringes of his consciousness. They don’t understand. They won’t ever. They caused this, in fact, by stringing him into their everlasting. 

He can’t blame them, however, for they’ve never lived despite being the basis of life. They don’t understand.

“Sonic?” Amy pokes her head in the doorway, the sunlight in the window catching on the rim of her glasses with a sparkle. “Can I have your help with this?”

The blue hedgehog practically leaps off the couch at the opportunity, any other thoughts falling away like the album on his lap. Unlike the album, however, he doesn’t stop to pick them up with a cooing apology. Amy laughs at his display, the items in her arms rattling with the movement and snatching Sonic’s attention again. Puffing his chest up comedically, he pressed a posh accent into his voice as he huffs, “Young lady, I will be at your assistance at once!”

“Young? Oh, you flatter me,” Amy teases, shifting the boxes in her arms. Sonic rolls his eyes playfully as he reaches up for the top one, only to be stopped with a shake of her head. “No, over there. I didn’t say I was old!”

Sonic turns to find what she’s nodding at. Just two boxes, one neatly shut with pink decorative tape and the other still open with its contents peeking out. He smirks as he lifts them with a dramatic flourish, though careful not to jostle the contents. “I think you’re calling me weak with such a simple task. Can’t even let me take another one?”

“Nope! It’s hard enough trusting you with two.” Sonic lets out a gasp of mock offense and Amy laughs. Right as she steps toward the door, it opens in to reveal Cream, knee-length skirt swishing with her steps.

“Oh! Let me help you with that!” The rabbit gently takes the top boxes from Amy’s arms, leading the way back outside to meet Blaze. The other-dimensional princess stands on the lawn, palms up in front of her as she channels the Sol Emeralds’ fire. She smiles as the three of them come into view, nodding at each of them in acknowledgement.

Sonic sets down Amy’s belongings next to the others, patting the open one gently as if telling it to behave. “Well,” he starts, interrupting himself with a long sigh. His posture droops like a wilting flower as he trails off.

“This is not our first goodbye, nor will it be our last,” Blaze says. “There is no need to be so dramatic.”

“But!” Amy cuts in, sparkles in her eyes. “I have something for you. It’s in that box.” Sonic perks up and looks back at the open box with new eyes, its cardboard flaps waving at him to reach in. He supposed that’s why it wasn’t taped shut like the others. A brief glance at Amy showed that she was waiting, so he did as prompted.

On the very top, beside personal objects and a replica of the photo album he’d been flipping through earlier, there was a woven bracelet.

Gently, he picks it up, cradling it in his palm like a sacred item. He doesn’t dare breathe as he pulls it close to his chest, slowly turning his hand to inspect it. Deep indigo threads were braided around a number of rounded silver-white beads in a delicate pattern, a gold star ring interrupting the chain in the center. Engraved on the back of the metal charm was a single word. 

Love. 

Sonic folds his fingers around the bracelet, feeling the smooth cold of the beads and the individual strands of string. His heart squeezes. He looks up at Amy, an ocean of emotion pricking the corners of his eyes. She steps closer, smiling softly.

“I know you shy away from sentimental stuff, but I thought you’d appreciate this. We’re not leaving forever, of course, but it’s something to remember us by when we’re gone.” She offers a hand and Sonic presses the bracelet in it, holding out his arm for her to tie it on. Amy’s tongue peeps out in concentration as she knots the ends with a care only a crafter holds. Once she’s deemed it secure, her hands fall down Sonic’s wrist to clasp his fingers. “Well?”

“It’s… beautiful,” he whispers, shakiness tucked in the crevices of his voice. He hopes the smile he gives her is enough to convey the sheer gratitude he feels. Then, for once, he’s the one to pull Amy into a hug, but she returns it just as fiercely as she initiates, just as easily as she’s done for decades.

“I’ll miss you. All of you,” Sonic murmurs, just loud enough for the four of them to hear. He lets Amy go and she rejoins the others, putting a hand on one of the stacks of boxes. He takes a step back as the Sol Emeralds slowly spin, plumes of fire rising from the ground in synchrony, beckoning from another world. 

Cream waves enthusiastically, flashing a wide smile. Blaze has her arms out in front of her to control the flames, but she manages a small ripple of her fingers. Amy rocks on her feet as the fire spins into a column. Right before it envelopes them completely, she locks eyes with Sonic, cups her hands around her mouth, and shouts, “Love you!”

Then she’s gone, her words fading into the ambience. Regardless, Sonic smiles and whispers, “Love you too.” He has faith that Amy will get his message, through time and space. She’s special that way.

He finds himself content to just stand there for the moment, the lazy breeze on his face, a soft beat in his chest, the hum of the world coursing through his veins. Soon, however, blades of grass sway and poke at his ankles, urging him to get a move on. He rolls his eyes and turns back toward the house. 

Amy said he was free to stay in it if he so pleased, but Sonic doesn’t think that’d be often, or soon. It’s weird to see the place so empty. Nails on the walls devoid of picture frames, pale spots on the rugs where potted plants once stood. They’ve all been taken to the Sol Dimension or given away to the friends in this world. Sonic takes one long look at it all, and takes the photo album on the coffee table to accompany him back home.

He’s careful to close all the windows, draw all the curtains closed, return all the furniture that had been moved, and lock both the back and front door. Any sounds are amplified by the surrounding silence, creaks of the hinges and groans of the floorboards loud enough to make Sonic’s ears flick.

He breathes a heavy sigh when he steps out, the door clicking shut behind him. It’s done. Emerald eyes flick over to the spot the girls departed from and he smiles at the ghost of memory. He can feel the bracelet on his wrist, brushing against the album he carries.

Then a smirk settles comfortably on his face and he bends slightly, the ground dipping beneath his feet. With a whirl, he launches out of the yard, the wind following in his footsteps.

The world blurs by, colors melding into three sections between the sky above and ground below. It doesn’t take long to trace the familiar path from Amy’s house to Tails’s. Sonic would boast that he could get there with his eyes closed, but that would still be too easy. 

He skids to a halt right before the door, tilting just enough to rap his knuckles on it. Somewhere in the house, Tails can be heard dropping something on the hardwood floor with a thunk before calling, “You know the door is open!”

Sonic laughs, deliberately loud enough for the fox to hear. “What? Go through the window?” He steps toward the closest one and pulls it open.

“Don’t you dare!”

Sonic reaches in and puts the album down somewhere safe before taking two steps back. “Incoming!” he shouts, then flips right through the open window, landing inside with a roll. He accidentally kicks the shelf, the ensuing rattle alarming Tails enough for him to yell something nonsensical.

The fox comes out of the lab with his best angry face, which isn’t very effective, in Sonic’s opinion. He eyes the shelf warily, then turns to the hedgehog now draped across on the couch with an amused grin. “Why are you like this?”

“What are you talking about?” Sonic replies, blinking innocently. His act is broken when Tails’s expression shifts into deadpan, the flat glare drawing a peal laughter from its victim. 

Sonic stretches with an arch of his back, then bounces to stand upright on the couch. He seesaws on the edge of the cushion and gestures at his brother. “Come closer.”

Tails raises a brow but complies dutifully, coming face-to-face with the artificially-heightened hedgehog, who gets up on tippy-toes to look even taller. They stare at each other for a second before Sonic smirks and seizes the opportunity to ruffle his brother’s bangs like he used to. 

Tails doesn’t appreciate it as much as he does, pulling away with an indignant “Hey!”

“Don’t be like that, little bro,” Sonic grins, flopping on his back before the fox can push him. “Can’t I enjoy being tall for a second?”

“No.” Tails crosses his arms in mock offense and turns away. It’s as adorable as it was when he was a child. It doesn’t take long for him to drop the futile act and crack a hairline smile. “Have they gone?”

“Yeah. I’ll miss ‘em.” Sonic reaches for the bracelet again, fidgeting with the star charm absentmindedly. He runs his fingers over the engraved word. “I know they’ll be back, but it’s just so long, y’know?”

Tails hums in sympathy. “I know. I miss them already.” 

Silence floats between them, spilling with reflections and memories. Sonic chuckles softly. “Seems a bit too soon for this, yeah?” He rolls onto his side, catching sight of the album he set on the floor. Shifting onto his belly, he reaches toward it with a grunt, barely brushing fingertips before a shadow falls on it and Tails picks it up. He rolls his sky-blue eyes at Sonic, who pouts and makes a grabby gesture. “Gimme…”

“What are you, nine?” Tails smacks the album on Sonic’s forehead, his smirk betraying amusement. He sits down on the couch as the hedgehog props himself up on his elbows, holding back a laugh.

“I’ll have you know I’m nineteen, going on…” Sonic counts the years on his fingers. It doesn’t seem quite right, though he hasn’t had to think about his true age much, or whatever it’s called. The amount of time he’s been alive. “Well, y’know. Forever.”

“And I’m older,” Tails snarks.

“On technicality! I’ve been around longer than you, so I say I’m older, little bro.”

Tails lets out a puff of laughter and shakes his head. “You certainly haven’t gotten any wiser.”

“Hey!” Sonic hoists himself up, kneeling on the sinking couch cushions. Tails yanks his eyes away and buries his toothy smile in the pages of the album, shaking with barely contained giggles that escape in squeaks. They fade when he genuinely appreciates the contents of the book.

“Wow. Look at that,” Tails murmurs. Sonic scoots closer and peeks over the fox’s shoulder, the artful, scrapbook-like array of photos softing his smile. 

“Amy’s great, isn’t she?”

Tails hums. “Of course! I think I'm going to scan this for preservation purposes. I’ve got a few photos I could add too. This’ll be a great way to test the photo-scanning and processing capacity of the Miles Electric 2!”

“Yeah? How that comin’ along, by the way?”

“Really well, actually! I’ll spare you the details, but I managed to rework the electrons in such a way that I can fit as much processing power as the first iteration of the Miles Electric into a microchip twice as small! I’m currently attempting to scale it down even further. My calculations say I could potentially halve the size again! Imagine that, Sonic! A tablet half the size of the original, but with twice as much power. Oh, oh! And—” Tails’s namesakes flick excitedly as he holds up his hand for a dramatic pause, “I’m working on a system where the battery could directly feed off the latent chaos energy in the environment. If it succeeds, the Miles Electric 2 wouldn’t ever need to be charged or replaced! It’d just power itself naturally, and the properties of chaos energy would protect it from deterioration of the materials. Perhaps it could even fix itself, given that I build it right!”

Tails bounces on the balls of his feet, eyes sparkling just like when he was eight. Sonic nods as if he understands. He’s pretty sure he’s never worn a fonder smile than there, seeing his brother as if it was the first time and the millionth, familiar and brand new.

He huffs a laugh. He was feeling sentimental today, he supposed. Tails catches him staring and tilts his head curiously, words trailing off as he gives a lopsided smile back at his brother. “Uh… did I lose you again?”

“Nah. ‘M just thinking. You’re gonna do great things, lil’ bro.” Sonic smiles wider, eyes crinkling at the corners. Pride and joy flows from him in waves, seeping into Tails’s fur and embracing him with all the love Sonic could offer. 

Tails exhales, a sighing laugh riding his breath. “We’ll do great things. Together.”

“Oh, of course! Y’know,” Sonic shifts in his seat, a snicker bubbling in his chest, his fingers splayed out at an imaginary horizon, “now that Amy’s away, there’s no one stopping us from doing something fun, yeah?”

His expression must have been a sight to behold, because Tails’s namesakes puff up in apprehension and he turns his palms out. “Nope. Absolutely not. I’m not dealing with this.”

Sonic laughs loud enough to reverb off the walls, pitching a couch pillow at Tails before the fox could walk out. “C’mon, do it for your brother?”

“I’ll call Shadow to do it for you,” Tails deadpans, picking the pillow up and chucking it right back. A smile cracks his facade, but he pulls his phone out to complete the threat.

“Wait, wait, don’t!” 

Punctual as always, Shadow picks up after the first ring. Sonic smacks a hand over his mouth in a vain attempt to contain his giggles. “What is it, Miles?”

“Can you pick Sonic up? He’s causing trouble.” Tails sticks his tongue out at his brother, whose laugh escapes its confines when faced with the silly expression. 

In a blink, the chaos energy warps in the empty space beside the coffee table, giving way to the one and only Ultimate Lifeform. Shadow hangs up upon arrival, and is promptly met with a pillow to the face.

“Nuh uh! Get out!” The perpetrator grabs at the other cushion, just out of reach on the far side of the couch. Ruby eyes narrow, the last thing Sonic registers before he gets the pillow returned, smacking him so hard he’s pretty sure some of the seams pop against his face. He can hear Shadow’s amusement through the ringing in his ears. Sonic grabs the fabric and throws his arm back—

“Not in the house!” Tails cuts in. The two hedgehogs blink in unison, then lock eyes.

“Willow tree,” Shadow says, perhaps cryptic to anyone else, but perfectly clear to Sonic.

“You’re on!”

They’re out the door in twin blurs, one golden orange and the other brilliant blue. Tails could be heard sighing behind them, a mixture of exasperation and fondness, right before the door swings around and slams shut.

Then, there’s only laughter in the wind.

Chapter Text

The house was quiet. 

An unnerving quiet, where whispers of noise haunted the space like ghosts, humming in the walls and beneath the floorboards. If he focused enough, he could separate them into the routine noises of Tails’s machines, but as one, they were a pulsating mass just loud enough to latch onto Sonic’s nerves, clawing a shiver down his back.

He broke his staring contest with the mirror, looking down at his clenched fists instead. The intensity his own eyes held was foreign. Setting his hands on the sink counter, he’s tempted to turn on the faucet just to drown out the noise. That thought flew out as fast as it came. He'd rather not waste water.

Sonic took a long breath and eased his palms flat on the cool surface. His bracelet clinked on the stone, the star charm landing with the Love face up. He stared at it. The quiet eased.

He stepped out of the bathroom and looked down the hall at Tails’s room. The door was cracked open, the inner workings throwing slivers of shadows out. The brief thought of bringing something worth entering for crossed Sonic’s mind, but it was too late— the hallway wasn’t very long. 

However, Sonic paused before the door, one hand raised for a knock that never came. It’s been a while since he’s cared for Tails like this, or anyone with a sickness, for that matter. What was he even supposed to do?

He peeked through the crack in the doorway, as if he could get an answer from there. He wouldn’t say it worked, but his question sure spilled away. 

Over the years, the room had gotten progressively more cluttered, but nothing quite like this. Papers lined with scribbled notes and complex designs littered every inch of flat surface— the desk, the windowsill, the cabinet and nightstand. Some were hastily pinned to the walls, some were in the process of migrating to the floor, some were held down by tools taking the place of paperweights. There was a half-finished piece of tech on the desk. The rolling chair was haphazardly in the middle of the room, something like a glowing battery waiting to explode on whoever sat on it. It was… chaotic. Too chaotic.

“Well? Are you just going to stand there?”

Tails smirked from where he sat on the bed, face wrinkling with humor. He set the book he was flipping through down on the nightstand, then raised his arms up for a hug. 

Sonic snorted and obliged, skirting around the mess and plopping down on the edge of the bed to take his little brother in his arms. For good measure, he hooked Tails’s head under his chin and nuzzled vigorously, as close to ruffling those bangs as he could get with his hands occupied.

Tails yelped, laugh bubbling up as he… he…

Sonic pulled back, his hands flying to the fox’s shoulders as he coughed like his lungs were crawling up his throat. Tails clutched at his chest as expression scrunched in a mix of effort and flickering pain, deepening with every inhale grabbed between heaving fits.

Sonic felt concern spike in his own chest, strained breaths coming in tandem with Tails’s. An invisible want crept into the back of his mind and opened the gate for the chaos emeralds to slip through. They flitted around like nervous butterflies as Tails squeezed Sonic’s arms. One pushed a half-empty glass of water with a clink. 

Sonic picked up the cup and carefully offered it to Tails as the fox found his breath. The coughing, for the moment, ceased. He took the water with a grateful nod. Sky blue eyes met worried green as the fox took a slow sip.

“Don’t—” Tails paused to take a stilted breath. “Don’t worry.”

“I’m not!” Sonic immediately blurted, tellingly fast. His brother, sassy in his wiser years, rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, and the chaos emeralds just decided we were having a party. I’m not stupid, Sonic,” Tails said. His voice was ragged, as if bits of words tore away and bunched up in his vocal cords. He cleared his throat and patted the hedgehog’s shoulder reassuringly, offering a lopsided smile. “It’s okay. I’m just getting old.”

Sonic’s heart pinched. He knew Tails was getting older. Everyone was. It’s not like he couldn’t see that, but… hearing it is a different matter. Hearing sat him down and made him face it. Knowing and understanding are vastly different, yet tauntingly similar. 

Understanding hurt so much more.

“Sonic?”

Said hedgehog smiled. The chaos emeralds filed neatly back into their pocket between space as he bent over to put the cup back down on the nightstand, somewhere convenient from the bed but secure enough not to be knocked over by accident. “Yeah. And you’re sick. Go to sleep, little bro, it’s late. And I better not catch you reading that book instead!” he said, standing up and stretching.

“Aw, no entertainment?” Tails pouted. He tugged on Sonic’s hand before he could walk away, giving puppy eyes just as effective as when he was little. “Tell me a bedtime story.”

“How old are you, again?” Sonic sighed. He turned to find the closest viable seat, which happened to be a small, forgotten stool. He dumped the stray papers covering it on the floor and pulled it next to the bed.

Tails flashed a toothy grin as the hedgehog sat down and brushed off his knees in preparation. “Not too old for your stories?”

“Right, right.” Sonic closed his eyes, fishing through his memory for a worthwhile tale. “Have I told you about how I got the Tornado?”

“No.” Tails scooted down the headboard, shuffling underneath the blankets to get comfortable. Once he stopped moving, Sonic tucked him in and cleared his throat dramatically.

“Okay. It was a dark and stormy night. Lightning, thunder, the works.” 

Tails blinked at him, a skeptic even bedridden and falling asleep.

“Okay, maybe the storm had already passed. Whatever, same difference. Eggman— well, still Robotnik then— had fled South Island after losing to yours truly. I was sure that wherever he was headed, he was up to no good. Now, I was… well, I was just a little boy at the time. I wasn’t as fast as I am now. I didn’t trust myself to run across the ocean, especially not at night. Who knows what could be waiting in the water? There could be monsters, or those orcas that love to chase me so much! Anyway,” Sonic smacked his hands on his knees and leaned forward, “I had to come up with a different way to follow Robotnik, preferably something quick, and immediately, because I couldn’t lose sight of him. I couldn’t let him terrorize another island just because I couldn’t follow fast enough. So I went around the island, all while constantly keeping tabs on the Eggmobile.”

“Mmm.” Tails nodded sleepily. “And you… found someone who lent you a plane?”

Sonic paused. “Well yes, but no. I kind of… borrowed it without informing them.”

Tails’s eyes shot wide open, snapping to Sonic’s face. “You… you stole a plane? What the hell, Sonic?!”

“Language,” Sonic scoffed. “Listen—”

“You could have told them, at least?!” Tails’s voice cracked in his disbelief. He propped himself up to look Sonic in the eyes. “Did you leave a note or something?”

“Listen! No, I didn’t. You know I couldn’t write, Tails, or speak for that matter. It’s not like I had a choice. Lay back down, mister.”

Tails shot him a glare and ran a hand down his face. “I can’t believe you stole a plane and never told me. And then you gave me that stolen plane. Oh my gods.”

“Look me in the eyes and tell me you wouldn’t steal a plane,” Sonic countered.

“I wouldn’t, because I’d build one instead.”

“Under the circumstances in which you couldn’t build one?”

“I’d borrow one.”

“Under the circumstances in which you couldn’t…? Blah. Whatever. You definitely know I can’t build planes, I could barely pilot one! How else was I supposed to do it?”

Tails’s shoulders tensed. “Oh my gods, you stole a plane you couldn’t fly and crashed it. The poor plane, Sonic!”

“Ahem. Okay yeah, but…” Sonic held up a finger in pause. “Well, look at it this way. If I hadn’t stolen that plane to chase after Eggman, I would’ve never made it to West Side Island, and I would have never met you, and we would have never saved the world, or become the best of friends, and everything else after that. So it’s good! All’s well that ends well, right?”

There was a long pause. “...I suppose,” Tails begrudgingly agreed. “But that doesn’t change the fact that you stole a whole plane! How do you even do that?!”

“Is the plane more important than our relationship, Tails? If you had to steal a plane to save me, you would, right?” Sonic looked at his brother with the best imitation of the latter’s puppy eyes that he could manage.

“Oh, fine.” Tails sighed. “You win. Yes, I guess I’d steal a plane for you.”

“There’s my buddy! I knew you’d come around.” Sonic clapped his hands together. “Now I know what’s on the agenda once you get better!”

Tails groaned softly, flopping down and burying his face into his pillow. “We are not stealing a plane.” He lifted his head up just enough to make a grabby hand at the glass of water.

“Alright, alright. I’m getting you out of this place, though.” Sonic gestured animatedly at the mess around them as he handed Tails the cup. He can’t help the wistfulness that bleeds into his voice as he whispers, “We’ll go on an old-fashioned adventure, yeah? Just for the fun of it. Just like before.”

Something sad flashed across Tails’s face as he took a sip of water, gone before Sonic could truly process it. The fox sighed and closed his eyes, hiking the blanket up his chest a little more.

“...That sounds nice. Where to?”

There’s something wrong.

That’s the first thought that crossed Sonic’s mind as he stepped into the living room. The quiet whispered it into his ears, urging him to hurry. He didn’t know why or how he knew, just that he did. There was an undeniable wrong to the space, a hollowness he hadn’t felt since Amy moved to the Sol Dimension for good.

A paper on the floor caught his eye, and he stopped to pick it up. As expected, it was one of Tails’s, written in a foreign English that Sonic couldn’t comprehend. The few words he could read were sparse, not enough to figure out what the whole thing said. The curious thing is that it’s here. He looked up, down the hall.

Another sheet of paper smacked him in the face. Sonic recoiled and picked it off, then spotted two more racing across the floor. They’re coming from Tails’s room, that much was obvious. The door stood ajar and carried a swift draft that told of an open window. Sonic sighed and rolled his eyes, as if his brother could see him through the walls.

“Tails, I love you, but at least close the window if you’re never going to clean up,” he called. His voice bounced around the empty space as he went to retrieve the escaped papers before they slipped under the cracks of a different door. A blueprint flew out and snagged his ankles; he picked that up too.

He tucked the stray work under his arm and knocked on the door, not expecting an answer before he eased it open. From the resistance, Sonic could tell that there was more clutter behind the door, and he wondered just how long Tails had been cooped up with his latest project. He needed to take that boy for an outing as soon as possible.

Sonic whistled quietly and decided it was a hopeless effort to open the door anymore. He ran the risk of breaking something, after all. He squeezed in sideways with a little hop, exhaling in relief once he made it through. The tightness in his chest didn’t leave. He frowned and chalked it up to the cramped space— the rather small room was even smaller with the crowding projects and papers. It felt like the entire science lab had been relocated into the bedroom.

Tails was sprawled on his desk, forehead lulling on the edge, butt hanging half off of the chair. His namesakes, mottled with aging gray and in desperate need of a combing, hung off to one side, curtaining the awkward angle his legs were bent at. Overall, very uncomfortable. How did he even fall asleep?

Sonic touched Tails gingerly, as if expecting him to wake up. Although it was barely anything, the force was still enough to cause the delicate balance to collapse— Tails made for the floor, folding in his seat as the chair wheeled back. A lifetime of quick instincts snapped at Sonic to catch, and he hooked an arm around Tails’s torso before a coherent thought could pass his mind. It’s only when he lifted the fox back to lean on the chair that the details kicked in.

It’s all wrong. Tails was a little too pale, a little too still. His mouth hung open but his eyes stayed shut. Some parts were too lax, others too tense, yet there wasn’t a twitch of movement in correction. There wasn’t…

Sonic cupped Tails’s face with a shaking hand, breathing harshly as if he could urge his brother to follow. He felt weird, too. Not quite warm enough.

“Buddy? Hey, wake up. You’re scaring me here. Tails?” Some part of him had enough mind to trace his hand down and find a pulse point, but all Sonic could feel in his fingers was his own frantic heartbeat, amplified by the second. “Tails?!”

His chest crunched. The chaos emeralds burst free from their mental confines, spraying out into the room and sending papers flying. One knocked over the glass on the nightstand with a sharp clink and it shattered on the floor. The burst of energy loosened the clutter stopping the chair and it lurched forward, taking Tails— and Sonic— with it. The latter hit the ground kneeling and pulled it back, commanding one of the emeralds to lodge under the wheels. That was about as much organized thought as he could manage, however. The quiet was growing painfully loud. He could not hear his own mind.

The chaos emeralds gathered around like a council of advisors. The idea to try healing Tails himself crossed his mind and fled just as quickly. Sonic had no trust in himself to do that, especially not now. He couldn’t trust himself not to blow something up.

“I… I… What do I do—?” He stared a hole into the ground, just beside the chair wheels. Tails’s limp form taunted his peripheral as he tried to school his breathing into something manageable. “Stupid. Stupid. Hospital—!”

Sonic scooped Tails up, kicked the door off its hinges, and shot out of the room, the house, the yard, toward town. The hospital. They could help.

The chaos emeralds chased after him, as did a blur of frantic blue. As the wind brushed past him and urged him faster, he couldn’t help but sputter. 

Please, please, please be okay.

Sonic exhaled, slowly, through his nose. He opened his eyes and stared at the same wall he’s been faced with since he fled the typical waiting room into one of these hallways. It’s white. Nondescript, just like the one he was leaning against. The vinyl floor is cold, but he doesn’t move to get up.

He tilted his head back. The whole place smelled vaguely of disinfectant, which was expected for a hospital, but too clean for Sonic’s taste. It smelled like they were hiding something. It made his skin crawl. He systematically took another breath, then hiked his legs closer to his chest. His shoes squeaked on the floor and he flinched, ears flattening against his skull.

Somehow, a place could be too overwhelming and too underwhelming at the same time. It was this strange limbo of white walls and gray floors, closed doors and sharp turns, and lights that were just too loud but halls that were all too quiet. There should be more happening and there should be less as well. Every second unceasingly reminded Sonic of why he hated hospitals. 

But he was here for a reason. And he would not be leaving. So he wrapped his arms around his knees, loose enough not to seem desperate but tight enough to comfort. He picked at the fur on his legs and fiddled with his bracelet, the beads clicking against each other as he traced his fingers over the thread that bound them.

At some point, his head drooped and boredom overcame discomfort, easing him into a light sleep. He only knows this because he woke up with a kink in his neck and a doctor standing over him. They seemed to be quite young, but professional all the same. The nametag on their coat read Dr. Glass. They offered a smile once they saw Sonic staring at them.

“Hello, sir. You shouldn’t be sitting in this wing,” they said, voice soft but asserting. Sonic nodded mutely, but before he could apologize or walk himself back to the waiting room, they tilted their head and asked, “Are you here for someone?”

All remaining traces of sleepiness vaporized in an instant and Sonic shot to his feet, ignoring the static that spotted his limbs from staying in the same position for so long. “Yes— my brother. Tails. Miles Prower. Is he okay?”

“Prower… your brother, you say?” Sonic could tell they were trying their best not to sound suspicious. The way their eyes darted up and down gave it away. The hedgehog couldn’t help but be annoyed.

“Yes. I know it doesn’t look like it, but yes.”

Dr. Glass nodded. Whether or not they were convinced, the hedgehog couldn’t tell. “We’ve been looking for you, sir—”

“Why?” Sonic butt in, breathless. “How is he? Has he woken up? Is he okay? Can I see him?”

“Sir, please calm down. We should move into a room for this.”

Sonic swallowed thickly, a storm brewing in his gut. No. “No. We can do it here. There’s no one around.”

In a twist of irony, someone ran down the intersecting hallway just then, as both pairs of eyes tracked them. Dr. Glass opened their mouth, probably to suggest they move again. Sonic cut them off with a swift gesture. “Tell me.”

It was off-putting to hear the order come out of his own mouth. He doesn’t think he’s ever sounded so stern. It’s enough to shut the doctor up, their lips pressing into a thin line. They met Sonic’s eyes, almost. There was a gap in the bridge, until their words filled it. “I… I’m afraid your brother has died. I'm sorry for your loss.”

…Died. Dead.

The world crumbled. The walls and floors and stretching hallways keeled. The air turned into static, bursting with emotion and nonsense and crinkling like Christmas tinsel. The storm in his chest expanded into clouds as his stomach dropped into his gut. His lungs rose and fell but drew no air. He felt nothing and everything at the same time. 

And his heart… his heart hurt.

Dr. Glass put a hand on his shoulder, a jolt of reality reminding him that he was still in the hospital. They said something. It was all nonsense to Sonic’s ears. Loud nonsense. He looked down the hall.

It took two seconds for him to crash through the hospital doors, desperation hugging every step. The chaos emeralds pressed against his mind, but he gripped them tightly— the only sensible thing he could do at that moment. He was afraid of what would happen if he let them out. He was afraid of what would happen if he stopped.

He didn’t know where he was going. He had no destination in mind, although he wasn’t sure he’d reach one even if there were. Aimlessness… the mystery of the unknown usually sparked joy. Not this time. Not today.

Sonic gasped as he plunged into a wood, trees swaying in the wind he carried. He wished they’d point him somewhere. Wished he knew what he was doing. Wished he knew where he was taking himself. Wished anything would feel solid, but he slid right through like a fin in water, the world content to bend and follow him when he wished to follow it.

He screwed his eyes shut and tucked himself into a ball. Momentum kept him rolling. He couldn’t say it made him feel any better. If anything, it took the overwhelming control out of his hands and placed it into something more unpredictable.

He could say, however, that when he stopped, everything hit him like hail— harsh, cold, painful and relentless. His heartbeat thundered in his ears as he uncurled for air that would not come no matter how many breaths he took.

Sonic felt lightheaded. Floating. Like time and space did not apply to him. Maybe it didn’t. Maybe it never will.

He was reminded of Death, whom he’s danced with many times, whom he’ll never touch again. Death, who will make acquaintance with his friends, who today has led the first over the bridge that Sonic cannot cross.

He would scream if he had the lungs to. A guttural choke is all he could manage. The ground tilted forward, and he braced himself with his elbow. His frantic breath felt too warm against his fur. He grabbed the grass beneath him with desperation and… it withered under his palm. He lifted his hand, and stared.

Something bumped into his forehead. He felt like throwing up. A chaos emerald, then two, then all seven graced his vision with their fractured light. They shook in tandem with Sonic, getting bolder with their proximity like they were any good substitute for a soothing touch. He swatted at them. They persisted.

“Go away,” he whispered. His voice sounded the way fresh chalk on a blackboard would, and he clamped his mouth shut. The emeralds ignored him and circled tighter. They emitted a high-pitched frequency that matched exactly how Sonic felt. Suddenly, he found that he could scream, after all.

“Leave me ALONE!”

Wind burst outward in ripples, whipping through his quills and dispersing the emeralds. The air was empty, his lungs were full. His chest heaved. There was a precious moment of nothing. 

Then he heard a voice that was not his, quiet but strong.

“If you insist.”

He turned his head and met Shadow’s eyes. They offered empathy. Sonic swallowed thickly and looked away. He shifted, sat up on his haunches, and looked to the horizon through the gaps of trees.

There’s shuffling behind him, then Shadow appeared in his peripheral vision. He stood, perhaps waiting for an invitation, perhaps waiting for rejection. Neither happened. Silence stretched between them. 

Sonic’s breathing slowed considerably, though the dissonance clung to his mind. It felt like hours passed in a blink. He wasn’t sure what time it was, nor how long it’d been since he crashed into this spot. Thoughts were fleeting. One stuck.

“It’s here,” he whispered, barely louder than the breeze. “Eternity.”

It’s strange, how such small words could be so profound. Like a black hole, powerful enough to consume reality, yet deceptively, impossibly empty. It wedged a hollow in his heart that Sonic knew then that he would never be rid of. He could build galaxies around it, but it would never be filled, or covered, or forgotten.

Shadow sighed. Somewhere in those three words, he seemed to find his invitation to sit. He looked Sonic in the eyes, a thousand words in a single glance. Then he reached into his quills and presented a device.

It was the signature yellow of Tails’s creations. That lump in Sonic’s throat came back. It was small, the design meant to be easily handheld. There were several noticeable buttons, a few covered ports, and that familiar two-tailed insignia of his brother.

“He gave this to me. … Entrust would be a more proper term. He wanted to know you would get it as soon as…” Shadow trailed off, face softening in something like sorrow. He holds the device up. “It’s for you.”

Sonic reached out with trembling hands and took it, cupping it carefully as if it were glass. Holding it, he could feel the hidden grooves— it was supposed to open. He felt for the triggers and it clicked on, pulling out into a holographic screen. It looked like… the Miles Electric. The Miles Electric 2.0.

His heart skipped a beat when Tails appeared on the screen. Fatigue shadowed his face, making him seem paler than ever, but he smiled at the camera nonetheless. “Hey, Sonic. If you’re seeing this, well… I’m sorry. I really am. I—”

Tails’s head dropped as he coughed so violently that the camera shook. Sonic tightened his grip on the tablet, pulling it closer to his chest as if he could comfort his brother through the screen. Once the fit subsided, Tails took a sip of water and continued with a rasp. “This is for all the things I didn’t say.”

“It… it was cancer. Lung cancer. I’ve had it for a few months now. It’s hard to say. I’ve been trying a few things on it, but most of them haven’t worked. It’s kind of scary. It won’t be long now.” 

Tails rolled his shoulders. He looked into the camera, meeting Sonic’s eyes through the screen. “Um… I didn’t want to get treatment. Maybe I’d live longer, but that gained time wouldn’t do anything. Most of it would be in hospitals, just waiting for a miracle. I didn’t want to go like that.”

He sighed and closed his eyes. “I’m sorry for not telling you. But you’d worry too much. I don’t want that for you or myself. Guess they’re right when they say ignorance is bliss, huh?” Tails took a breath, and Sonic remembered to as well, though it was much more strangled and short-lived.

“Anyway. This is the Miles Electric 2.0, if you haven’t already figured it out. I put a lot of things on here. Keepsakes. Memories. I hope you like them.” Tails’s voice cracked on the last sentence, diving into a strained whisper. He cleared his throat into his fist, then smiled. It was so fragile. 

“Sorry, again. Remember I love you, Sonic. I love you so much. Thank you for everything.”

The screen cut to black. There came a slow moment where nothing else existed except that “ I love you,” and the iron grip the world had on Sonic’s brain. He felt bolted to the ground and floating away at the same time, like a balloon on a tether, his string the device in his hands and the anchor, Shadow’s presence. 

The striped hedgehog said nothing. Sonic couldn’t see his expression, but he wasn’t sure he had the emotional capacity to decipher it even if he could, so he kept his head bowed. With trembling fingers, he clicked for the rest of the files.

Tails appeared again. His voice came out garbled, his expression frustrated, yet he seemed much livelier than the last recording. Sonic guessed this was several years ago. The thought made his heart squeeze. 

He flipped to the next entry, and the next, and the next. They were mostly just Tails in his room at first, all within a couple of weeks of real time as he tweaked his invention with fervor. Sonic watched as his face cycled through all kinds of emotions, lighting up at successes and dipping at faults. 

Then, there was the first still photo. It was a crayon drawing by a young Tails, of him and Sonic bearing wide smiles and doodle stars. Across the top in a childish hand were the words ‘ Me and my brother!!’

Sonic choked at the sight. A memory bobbed to the surface and he shoved it back into the tumultuous sea, not quite ready to confront it yet. He scrolled past the photo and was met with more. So much more. There were hundreds upon hundreds of photos and videos and mementos, of all their friends, through the highs and lows and peaks and plateaus of their lives. 

He felt a hand on his cheek. Shadow brought his attention away from the tablet, thumbing away the tear Sonic didn’t realize he’d let fall. They stared at each other for a moment, raw emotion rolling between them in waves, from their hearts through the oceans in their eyes.

Shadow shifted closer. With a gentle forcefulness, he guided Sonic’s head to his shoulder, laying it in the crook of his neck. It’s something like an embrace, the way he wrapped an arm around the blue hedgehog and patted his back. “Cry.”

If Sonic’s three words had held a galaxy of depth, Shadow’s one held a universe. ‘ Cry’ was a complicated word, even more so as a command. It was a simple action, yet possibly the hardest thing he could make Sonic do.

But when he opened his mouth to tell Shadow as much, he came up dry. The words lodged in the back of his throat, not a sound breaching the dam he thought he’d been rid of. His ears folded back and he tucked himself closer to Shadow, fishing for his voice. He couldn’t have lost it.

Silence cut the line and rendered him but a child again, helpless in a world where loud was everything and he was nothing. He squeezed his eyes shut. Let out a strangled attempt at words. 

“You don’t have to say anything. Just breathe. Just breathe,” Shadow whispered. Somehow, that was harder to do.

There was a hand on his ears, a soft breath against his quills. Sonic shook. The dam cracked. Warm tears slipped down his cheeks. He hiccupped. He buried his face into the crook of Shadow’s neck and reciprocated the hug tightly, letting the Miles Electric 2.0. fall into his lap.

Then he screamed, for all the things he never said, and for all the things he’d never say.

Chapter Text

Angel Island. A giant, floating anomaly teeming with chaos energy. It boasts a vast array of flora and fauna that carpet various environments, a hidden paradise in the sky that anyone would appreciate. Shadow is no exception— The island is beautiful beyond words.

The centerpiece to it all is the Master Emerald, the former controller of the chaos emeralds, the lifeblood of the island, and the heart of the world. Its guardian is who Shadow is here to see today.

On top of the tiered altar, Knuckles stands patiently. He looks as tall and proud as he’s always been, the many years that have shaped his physical appearance not wearing on the air he carries. He stares at the horizon as if he’d see the hedgehog he was expecting pop out of the space between sky and sea. Although, given the many phenomena the world has seen, it isn’t as far-fetched as it sounds.

Regardless, it would not be happening today. Shadow stands out of his line of sight, tucked behind one of the ancient pillars that still stand around the altar’s base, slowly taking in the surroundings as he prepares himself to step forth. He isn’t sure if Knuckles knows he’s there, but he appreciates the quiet that allows him to take everything in.

Shadow isn’t sure what he’s here for. He hasn’t been able to piece together what the echidna would want from him, and the cryptic message that Knuckles approached him with just a few days prior did not give him many clues.

Come to Angel Island, whenever you are ready. There is something I need you for.

He was also given strict instructions not to bring Sonic along, which was curious. Not that he was intending to, given the private tone of the request, but he rarely sought Knuckles without Sonic’s company. They simply did not have that type of relationship, needing an inbetween to bridge the gap between their lone personalities. Shadow can think of nothing that would need a private meeting to resolve.

Perhaps it is the absence of the Master Emerald? Its space on the altar is strangely empty. However, Shadow can feel tugs of its chaos energy, and Knuckles doesn’t seem to worry at all. There is also the fact that he isn’t the type to ask for help, and Sonic would be much more adept at detecting the emerald’s energy anyway. Shadow would not need to be here if it were truly missing.

Curiosity wins over hesitation. He steps around the pillar and clears his throat loud enough to make Knuckles turn around. They nod in silent greeting to each other.

“Why did you need me?” Shadow calls up. 

Knuckles’s gaze flicks back to the horizon for a moment, then he closes his eyes and inhales deeply. It’s as if he’s committing the scene to memory: the sun hanging over the sea, warming the land, vast blue colliding with meadow green. There’s a touch of finality to his breath as he lets it out. Shadow isn’t sure what it means.

“I need to show you something. Tell you something. It’ll make sense later.” Knuckles jumps off the top tier, gliding to the ground before beckoning the hedgehog to follow. Shadow hesitates. 

The guardian wasn’t usually this secretive. If anything, he liked to be straightforward and honest— his words could spill out faster than Sonic’s. Something about all of this doesn’t sit right in Shadow’s gut: the thick mystery, the urgency, the general atmosphere that strung tension into his nerves.

As much as he’d like to dwell on it, Knuckles is moving on. He knows the island much better than Shadow does, so losing guidance wasn’t something the latter’s keen to do. He gathers his thoughts and tucks them away for later.

Angel Island’s environment is unusual in the sense that everything is slightly removed. Shadow can see similarities to the mainland as he walks through, but there is something off about the plants growing here that he can’t always place. However, there are multiple species he can recognize, from the places Sonic would drag him through on runs and races, or the books he often flipped through with Maria back when Earth was only a dream. Some of them were not known to naturally exist on the same continent, but they lived in perfect harmony up here.

Not to say it was surprising, given the unique atmosphere that Angel Island boasts, with it being in the sky and blooming with chaos energy. Shadow just felt… displaced. It was all familiar and unfamiliar at the same time, an amalgamation of everyday elements presented in a warped mirror, as if to test his sense of home.

The grass gives to stone beneath his feet, snapping Shadow’s attention back to his path. He stops abruptly, rockets firing momentarily to counteract his inertia. Crimson eyes scan the vicinity in disbelief: Knuckles is nowhere in sight, despite having been just ahead not a minute ago.

Shadow turns around slowly, cursing himself for losing his guide. He was not slow by any means. He couldn’t have fallen that far behind. Unless Knuckles went down a hidden route…

His ears flick at the sound of rumbling. Before he can react, the floor caves in and gravity grabs Shadow by the throat. An embarrassing yelp rips from his throat as instincts kick in, the feeling of freefall all too familiar. His air shoes light up the dark and stabilize his tumble, slightly too late for his stuttering heart. Gently, he lowers to the ground.

A shadow falls on him. Knuckles peers through the hole in the ceiling, an expression equal parts irritated and sheepish playing out on his face. He jumps, spines splaying out as he glides down to join Shadow on the platform. “Sorry. The ground’s unstable. Watch your step.”

“Could’ve told me earlier,” Shadow mutters under his breath. It’s lost to the echoing rush of water. The cavern’s spacious, that much is clear. He’d appreciate it more if his entrance hadn’t been so rough.

Knuckles doesn’t seem deterred by their detour underground— quite the opposite. He marches with the confidence of someone who knows every nook and cranny of the island. It’s probably true, if not close to it. Shadow shoots another glare at the hole he fell through before boosting forward to catch up.

Their steps are brisk but not hasty, too fast to appreciate the patterns carved into pillars and the statuettes guarding their posts, but slow enough for them to catch Shadow’s attention like merchants at a market, appealing their secrets and stories to him like valuable wares. He wishes he could pause, if only for a second to take it all in. He isn’t keen to fall behind again, however, so he shakes the sentiment out.

He turns his eyes to Knuckles instead. The echidna does not do the same. There is not a snippet of speech between them, yet a million words around them. Shadow is unable to decipher those from Knuckles’s mind, and he is unsure if Knuckles can pick up on his thoughts in return. It makes for a very ineffective conversation, though he supposes that, since neither of them talk, the silence is preferred.

Shadow doesn’t fall out of step until they arrive at a pit of lava. He supposes that’s why it had progressively gotten hotter, why the distance glowed an ominous red instead of the deep blues and greens before. It is… quite a sight to see. He furrows his brow as he traces a path across; the platforms and bridges do not look structurally sound enough for his taste. 

Knuckles doesn’t have the same reservations. He moves swiftly, his jumps sure and strong as if there isn’t a pool of molten rock beneath him. Shadow watches him cross, and meets violet eyes when he looks back. There’s an amused curiosity in them, almost taunting in asking what Shadow was afraid of. It’s enough to dispel any hesitation to follow.

Sonic’s competitive spirit had rubbed off on both of them, it seemed. Shadow wasn’t going to back down from the challenge.

They’re heading upward, or so he thinks. The underground had a tendency to screw with Shadow’s senses, especially Angel Island’s underground. For all he knows, they could be a mile deeper than they started. 

He ducks under a pipe snaking around a pillar of volcanic rock. There seems to be a lot of them, perhaps remnants of the society of echidnas that once lived here. Why they needed lava, he doesn’t know. Perhaps for heating? Energy?

Knuckles crawls into a tube jutting out of a wall, large enough to be a tunnel but too tight for two. Shadow is stuck waiting for him to make it through— upward, if his ears do not deceive him. Or…

He lifts his gaze. The wall is too shadowed near the top for him to figure out where exactly it ends, but it does have an end. He shakes his limbs out and backs away as far as the ground extends, crouching as if preparing for a race. His skates fire in a mirror of the bubbling magma as he surges forward and hits the wall running.

It’s a short journey. Shadow skids to a halt on a different floor, going further than intended on the smoother surface. His slide is not the only thing unexpected— the environment here was a complete opposite of the one he just left. Rather than reds and oranges, blues and greens were the prominent colors, deep igneous rock replaced with crystalline walls. And not natural walls, either. Deliberate. Manmade. The fluted pillars are carved out of something akin to amethyst, a brighter reflection of the columns of basalt supporting the lower layers. Sunlight pours through a giant hole in the higher distance, passing through crystal vertices and strewing patches of multicolored light around the space.

‘Rouge would have loved this place,’ Shadow thinks. He wonders if she’d ever been here, what with all her visits to Angel Island, or if she stayed exclusively on the surface. Knuckles interrupts his musing when he pops out of the ground, a brief surprise flashing on his face at the sight of Shadow already there.

“Hidden Palace. We’re almost there.” The echidna offers no further explanation, brushing past to continue forward. A pang of annoyance surges in Shadow. Where is there? And more naggingly, why is it so important?

He doesn’t voice his complaint for a reason even he is unsure of. Perhaps it is an act of courtesy, or maybe he just doesn’t have the energy to complain. Maybe it’s something else entirely compelling him to shut up and go.

At the very least, this Hidden Palace was easier to navigate than the lava-flooded levels. It lives up to its name well— despite being what was likely millennia old, it stood the passage of time proudly, its grandeur evident past any marks at the hands of nature. He wonders if this had really been a living space, and who had declared it home. Did the ancient echidnas have royalty, as suggested by the existence of a palace? Or was it just a name, the space inhabited by nobles not on grounds of blood, but of respect?

Knuckles takes them around a corner. Glowing green catches Shadow’s eye immediately. At the far end of the hall, there is a chamber housing an altar, and in the center of the altar sits the Master Emerald. It’s curiously similar to the arrangement on the surface. Shadow absently wonders if there are more than just those two altars on the island as he skates up to it.

The opening disappears behind the adjacent wall, casting shade that stretches over the tiled floors and shrouds the room, and Shadow. It draws attention to the one spot of sunlight still persisting in this section, shining through a broken hole and highlighting… a mural.

Knuckles clears his throat, then gestures to the ancient art with reverence. Shadow realizes that they’ve arrived at their destination. He follows the echidna’s gaze, tracing over sharp lines and rich colors. It seems that the sun has bleached the pigment from one spot, rendering it shades paler than its surroundings. The etchings in the stone still remain, thankfully, time not having gotten to it yet. Still, it is confusing out of context. Shadow has the hints of a guess, but he asks, “This is…?”

“A prophecy. Do you see it?” A spiked mitt hovers over the mural, not daring to touch. “Robotnik. The Master Emerald. And…” Knuckles’s hand drops right before he’d brush over the sunbleached figure. “Sonic.”

Shadow hums, looking over the mural with new eyes. Robotnik is quite recognizable, especially with the mustache, but Sonic is more abstract and angular. There’s a halo of what looks like fire surrounding him, likely more evident in the days when the color was still vibrant. The event itself is one he doesn’t recognize, but it seems to be one of the many times Robotnik had made a grab at the Master Emerald, only to be met with the ever-persistent efforts of Sonic.

“It seems obvious now. But back then, I’d spend hours here trying to figure out what my ancestors were trying to tell me. I was sure it’d be some big revelation.” Knuckles shook his head, sighing softly. “When the time came, I was wrong. Robotnik tricked me into thinking Sonic was the enemy. We fought while the emerald was stolen from right under me. It was humiliating.”

“But Sonic… none of it fazed him at all. He just smiled and offered me his hand. I knew then that he was the hero.” Knuckles smiles, eyes laden with fondness as he stares at the figure of Sonic as if it’s the real thing. The air is heavy with all kinds of emotions, and Shadow doesn’t dare tamper with it. It felt sacred. Necessary. 

“If only I had known what he’d be today,” Knuckles murmurs. He breaks the moment when his violet eyes pierce Shadow’s own, as if searching for something. All he’d find is confusion, and maybe empathy for his story.

“I… don’t get it. Why tell me this? Show me this?” Shadow asks, waving at the mural. As nice as it was to know, he doesn’t see what it has to do with him. The single ray of sun reflects off the figure of Sonic and into Shadow’s eyes, leaving multicolored afterimages. He shifts slightly, falling back in the shade.

Knuckles huffs. “Thought you’d appreciate it. Something to understand Sonic better.”

“I understand him very well. That’s not what you brought me here for.”

“Impatient.” Knuckles rolls his eyes. Shadow’s face twitches. He wishes the hedgehog they were discussing were here right now— Sonic’s always been good at dissolving tension.

Thankfully, the echidna walks away, heading for the altar chamber where his charge is waiting. Shadow flicks his attention back to the mural. It’s interesting, for certain. He does appreciate the sentiment. Perhaps he is acting too restless.

Absently, he wonders how the echidnas knew. He wonders what the world would be like if this didn’t come true, if Sonic never came to save the day. It didn’t paint a pretty picture. He supposes it’s for the best that Sonic agreed with fate, this time.

He can feel Knuckles’s eyes trained on his back, waiting for him to turn around and follow into the chamber. Shadow sighs quietly and flexes his fists before obliging. Time to do what they came for. Somehow, despite his previous impatience, he feels hesitant.

Sunlight streams into the chamber through the same broken section of wall that the mural is lit by. Other than that, the Master Emerald’s natural glow provides sufficient light to see, the green creating a numinous mood that is rather fitting for an altar of a giant magical gem.

Knuckles stands in the center ring, a living reflection of the pillars circling him, one hand laying on the emerald and the other held out in silent offering to Shadow. The viridian light pulses faintly like a heartbeat, its energy beckoning the hedgehog closer. He takes Knuckles’s hand.

For a moment, nothing happens. The current of chaos flows from the emerald, through their linked hands, then loops back around, and again. A sense of harmony settles in the air. Then, in a blink, something tugs in Shadow’s chest and their surroundings disintegrate into blinding white.

The first thing he notices is that there’s no solid ground. He’s not falling, however; just held in place by an unknown force. He doesn’t question it, because the second thing he notices is… Sonic, who’s not supposed to be here. 

The blue hedgehog doesn’t see him, his gaze cast at the distant horizon and his expression a soft smile. It’s a familiar scene. Shadow lifts his hand, but before he can reach out, a ripple of blue darts through and takes it away. The striped hedgehog twists around, watching the blur cross several distinct panels, filled with snapshots of the past: faces of the people he knew, tidbits of little moments he enjoyed, places that held emotional significance in his life.

It reminds him of White Space, where he last saw her. Where the past came back with a vengeance, and served as the catalyst for him to finally learn to move on. It, like this, was a strange place in between time and space. White Space was more defined than this, however. It felt real. This feels like a dream.

“Shadow.”

He turns toward the voice. Knuckles floats up, clearly more adept at traversing this environment than the hedgehog he’s talking to. The bright ambience renders him a few shades paler than usual, adding to the dream-like feel. As he comes to a stop beside Shadow, that blue blur zips by again, bringing a smile to the echidna’s face.

“Did you see him?”

“Yes… Where are we?” Shadow asks breathily, tracing the shifting edges of the crystal-like walls. Memories continued to roll in each facet, filling him with a sense of wistfulness. They looked close enough to touch, but he had a feeling they were farther than he could ever reach. 

Knuckles nods and puts a fist to his chest, as if he knew what Shadow was experiencing right then. “This is inside the Master Emerald.”

“Inside?” Shadow’s eyes snap to the guardian’s face. He shows no sign of dishonesty. It’s certainly a weird thought, to be inside something solid— especially when inside was a dreamscape snatched right out of imagination. “How? Why?”

“You ask a lot of questions,” Knuckles remarks, a bit of snark and a bit of respect in his voice. 

“Because you don’t get to the point.”

The echidna barks out a laugh, shaking his head in amusement. “I can see why Sonic likes you, now. You’re just like him.”

“I’m not.” In many ways. Shadow watches as Super Sonic rises in an emerald panel, the world reflected in his brilliant red eyes. “I’m not,” he repeats, quieter.

Knuckles raises a brow. “Whatever you say. Anyway,” he pauses as he gathers his words, “we’re inside a pocket of the Master Emerald that only its guardian can access. I opened it and brought you in— that’s how. As to why, well…” The echidna gestures at their surroundings with a sweep of his hand. “All of this? It’s yours, now.”

Suddenly, Shadow forgets how to breathe. He stares at Knuckles owlishly, giving one slow blink. “Mine?”

“In the same sense that it was mine, yes.” The echidna pokes Shadow in the chest, forcing him to draw air. “It belongs to you, and you belong to it.”

He twists his body around to parallel Knuckles, wishing there was solid ground he could stand on. “No. You can’t just… give the Master Emerald to me.”

“Why not? We might not be friends, Shadow, but I trust you. It’s a high honor. Don’t take it for granted.”

“I… Why now? Why didn’t you tell me?” A mixture of disbelief and anger rises in Shadow’s throat. ‘This is wrong,’ it said. He shoved it back down the way it came.

Knuckles smiles. “You would object. You’re doing it right now. The saying goes, better to ask for forgiveness than permission. It’s easier to convince you once it’s done. Sonic told me so.”

That statement is more accurate than Shadow would like it to be. It’s done, then. No turning back— and if there was a way, he doubts Knuckles will let him. The fight slowly drains out, leaving something of a bittersweet struggle in its place. Before it goes completely, he asks, “Why not Sonic, then?”

Knuckles eyes him with a deadpan expression. “You know the answer. He’s got a duty to the chaos emeralds. Besides, the Master Emerald has to stay on Angel Island. I’d hate to trap him here.”

Shadow doesn’t have anything to say to that. Silence nestles in his lungs, curling around his voice, urging him to just nod and accept. He won’t admit it, but he doesn’t feel ready.

“The Master Emerald needs a protector, Shadow. That’s the only reason I’m still here— but I’m not immortal. This thing doesn’t work like the chaos emeralds do. I need someone to take my place. And you, you are the perfect person.” Knuckles taps Shadow’s chest firmly, nothing but earnestness on his face. “You might not be an echidna, but you have the mind of a warrior, and the heart of a guardian. You will do well.”

The emerald itself seems to agree with Knuckles’s words, letting out a muted high note that reverberates through the crystalline chamber. Shadow sighs. He closes his eyes and bows his head in a singular nod. The surroundings seem to shift, something akin to wind smoothing over his fur.

When he opens his eyes again, he finds that the space has indeed changed. Slowly, he lands on a length of ground that wasn’t there before, white and shadowless. The faceted walls stretch above them in a dome, their sheen still carrying memories, but they fade near the horizon line. Shadow glances at Knuckles, who looks just as confused as he is. 

The hedgehog tenses when a figure appears, a silhouette that he doesn’t recognize. The strong lightning hides their features, only serving to make him more wary as they approach. Knuckles follows his gaze, brow furrowed as he, too, takes in the mysterious person.

He has more luck recognizing them. “Tikal?”

At the sound of their name, they pick up the pace, more and more distinguishable as they step out of the light. Curiously, they seem to be an echidna, their fur a shade of orange, their clothing reminiscent of old tribal wear. “Hello, Knuckles.”

“Tikal. Where’s Chaos?”

Tikal laughs. “He’s just behind me. He’ll be here soon.” She turns to Shadow, tilting her head with a soft smile. “Is this your successor?”

Knuckles hums in confirmation. “Shadow, the… what do you call yourself?”

“The Ultimate Lifeform,” he answers. In truth, it’s a title he hasn’t used in decades. It’s foreign on his tongue now, despite being something he was once so proud of. He supposes he’s found better ways to define himself in the world. The emerald seems to be a place for the past, though, so he brings it back just this once.

“I suppose you look the part,” Tikal remarks, a slight tease to her warm voice. “Nice to meet you, Shadow. I’m Tikal, a spirit bound to the Master Emerald. I’m sure you’ll make a great guardian.”

Shadow can’t help but huff. “You don’t know me.”

In his periphery, Knuckles puts a hand on his face. He should know by now that Shadow isn’t exactly open to strangers. Tikal, however, seems undeterred. She leans forward and grabs Shadow’s hand, giving it a gentle squeeze and giving him a bright smile. “That’s true, but Knuckles trusts you, and I trust him. Besides, regardless of what you say, I have a feeling your heart is in the right place.”

Perhaps it’s the wholehearted sincerity in Tikal’s voice, those soft hands clasping his, or those ocean-blue eyes staring right through his walls, but once again, Shadow is rendered speechless. It reminds him of someone he misses dearly. It fills him with nothing but belief.

As a testament to how shaken he felt, he didn’t even notice there was another addition to their group until a watery hand lays on his head. He whips around to meet giant, bug-like green eyes.

“Chaos,” Tikal greets. The being raises his other hand in response. It made sense that this was Chaos— the artificial copies aboard the ARK had a similar appearance, with three protruding fins and a body of water. Seeing the real god, however, was a different experience. The real Chaos was a lot stronger than Gerald’s creations could ever compare to, and if Sonic’s stories held any truth, then he could get a lot more powerful. 

So, despite his irritation at his quills being soaked, Shadow doesn’t attempt to pull away. Not to say he was afraid, but… it felt disrespectful. He thinks the spirit is attempting to communicate something, for it can’t seem to speak. 

Tikal helpfully translates for him. “He likes you, Shadow. Seems like I’m right about you, hm?”

Shadow’s ear flicks as he looks back at Chaos. He can’t tell from the featureless expression, but he chooses to believe Tikal. It’s nice to know he has the water god’s approval. It’s a nice moment overall, one worthy of being displayed on the emerald’s walls.

Then, it’s over. “Knuckles?” Tikal calls, holding out her hand. The former guardian lifts his chin in acknowledgement, unfolding his arms before walking over to take it. Chaos follows him, leaving Shadow to stand alone. 

Tikal smiles at him. “Good luck, Shadow.”

It finally kicks in that they’re leaving. For good. “Wait.”

Knuckles turns around with a bemused look. Shadow takes this as a cue to continue talking. “What am I supposed to do now? How do I get around the island?”

“You really do ask a lot of questions,” Knuckles remarks with a small smirk. “The Master Emerald will guide you, like it guided me. Don’t worry too much.”

Shadow wants to protest, but he’s pretty sure it’d just be a waste of words. As much as he’d like preparation, what he has now is all he’ll get. Perhaps later he could ask… 

He pauses in his thoughts and blinks, then meets awaiting violet eyes. “Did you tell Sonic?”

Knuckles’s demeanor flickers, deflating ever so slightly. “I’ve said goodbye, but… I don’t think he realized. I suppose I’ll be trusting you with him, too.”

‘Take care of him,’ the undertone says. Shadow nods. The echidna takes the silent dismissal with a nod of his own and a subtle smile. He turns to catch up with Tikal and Chaos, the light slowly enveloping his color and form.

Shadow sighs, carefully saving the image of the three in his memory as he closes his eyes. He can feel his surroundings fade away, the real world building itself back in his senses.

When he opens his eyes, the Master Emerald greets his vision with a gentle pulse. He stares at it. It’s his responsibility now. He’s not quite sure how he feels about that, but he can say there’s a protectiveness planted in him that just might make the previous guardians proud.

Behind him, chaos energy pinches the fabric of reality, grabbing his attention. In a flash of light, Sonic slips through, followed by the chaos emeralds. There are a million emotions in his eyes as he meets Shadow’s own, the most prominent of which is panic.

Sonic opens his mouth. No words or noises come out. Slowly, his jaw folds shut. Sorrow is added to the myriad dancing in his eyes. Shadow’s expression alone, it seems, has told him all he needs to know.

Shadow holds out his hand, prepared to comfort, but Sonic twists his head away. He takes two steps out the altar chamber before the chaos emeralds snap into his body, charging it to an opalescent white. Without looking back, he shoots through the cracked hole in the wall and out the caldera’s opening.

The silence that lingers is strung with grief. Shadow stirs it with a sigh. He glances at the Master Emerald forlornly, then leaves the altar as well, hoping Sonic hasn’t gone too far.

Chapter Text

Sonic has never particularly liked cities. The towering infrastructure tends to blot out the horizon in a never-ending parade of straight edges and shadowed crevices, and the long streets seem to always be crowded and noisy, both with people and vehicles. It was like a pit of claustrophobia. He’s avoided them more and more over the years.

Sonic can admit that cities have their own merits, however. For one, it’s easy to hide among the crowds of people. It held true back then, and it still holds true now. Here, he’s just another fish in the school, just how he likes it.

He smiles at the thought. As much as he doesn’t like cities, he hates drawing attention even more. It’s hard to observe normal life when people point and stare at you like a museum exhibit, and worse when they scurry up to you with a paper and pencil, eyes wide like you hung the sun in the sky, clambering for a signature that shouldn’t mean as much as it did.

Thankfully, it hasn’t happened in years, or maybe he just hasn’t noticed. He likes to think it’s the former. He’s kept on the down low for a while, after all. Surely his world-renowned persona has faded into history by now…right? 

Through an opening in the wall of buildings, Sonic can see the onset of clouds rapidly taking over the sky. It might rain soon; he should probably get back to Angel Island before then. It’s not imminent enough for him to hurry, though, so he continues his stroll unbothered.

If he walks a few blocks down, he might be able to see the island in the distance— assuming, of course, there’s an open space between the towering buildings for the sky to reach through. He’s got nothing else to entertain himself with, so he skips down the sidewalk.

Luckily for him, he can see the sky from three blocks down. A lot of sky, in fact. There’s an entire blissfully and nonuniformly empty space carved out of otherwise interlaced steel. However, his search for Angel Island is promptly abandoned. 

At the end of the intersecting street, the culprit of the empty skyline, he finds a plaza of some sort. People are gathered there in clumps, peering into shop windows on the fringes of the square. Patches of green break up the monotonous hues of the city’s infrastructure, but that’s not what catches his eye.

Sonic has to refrain from bolting down the sidewalk at full speed. His poor imitation of a normal jog turns a few heads, or perhaps it’s the unorthodox way he’s squeezing through the people milling about. He just… has to see this up close. He just has to make sure he’s wrong.

He stops at the edge of the square, between two neatly-trimmed bushes that mark one of the entrances. Someone— multiple someones, actually— bump into him as they walk past. He should probably get out of the way. He can’t bring himself to.

In the center of the plaza, there is a fountain. Water spouts out of a rounded platform in the middle, collecting in a basin that sparkles with coins. Standing on it all, the centerpiece of the fountain… is Sonic the Hedgehog.

He doesn’t know what the statue is made of, but it’s covered in some sort of metal that reflects the diffused sun. It’s larger than life, towering over its admirers, posed like a hailed hero from the days of old, its expression serene and its arm held high in victory. 

Sonic stands at the edge of its shadow and feels sick. 

His vision tunnels on that uncanny imitation of his own face. He can’t breathe. It looks virtually the same, yet he thinks— knows— that there’s something wrong with it. The more he searches, however, the more that difference hides. 

How did they even model this?

Storm clouds creep on the fringes of his vision. Through the muffled commotion going on outside his head, one conversation filters through clearly. Sonic stands very still and turns an ear toward it, quietly observing out of the corner of his eye.

Two teenagers stand in front of the fountain. One, a cat, sighs, “Do you still believe in that stuff?”

“Of course,” the possum next to them replies. They put a fist to their heart, murmuring something too quiet to hear. With a quiet plop, a coin drops into the water. They watch as it settles, then turn back to their unamused friend with a smile. “It’s going to work one day, Gale.”

“It’s a statue,” the cat rebuts, hands on their hips. “Sonic isn’t even real.”

The possum gasps dramatically at the same time the real Sonic flinches. “You can’t say that! He is real, I know it! He’s saved the world so many times! He’s thwarted evil and fought gods and—”

“And he’s a myth.”

“He’s a part of history!”

Gale sighs, bringing a hand up to rub their temples. “Uh huh. Like King Arthur and his Round Table are history? People can’t just do that, y’know.”

“This is different!” The possum waves their hands wildly as they speak. “There’s proof. Documentation. All over the world. Evidence of all the disasters he’s overcome. There were people who experienced this. He saved them! You can’t fake that. Sonic’s not just a story, he’s a hero! ”

The cat opens their mouth to say something, but instead huffs in resignation. They shake their head as they reply, “Alright, alright. You’ve made your wish. C’mon now, let’s go to the cafe.”

As they walk away, the possum continues to passionately defend themself, the words fading into the commotion of the crowd. Little do they know, the subject of their debate watches them leave. Even as they’re swallowed by the passerby, Sonic can feel their chaos signatures moving out of the plaza.

He doesn’t know what he’s doing this for. It’s like someone has glued him in place, forcing him to stand still and process what he just heard. It doesn’t work very well.

A stranger pushes past and jolts him into action. He steps forward. He stops right in the spot where the two friends stood. He looks down into the water.

His reflection stares up at him, broken by ripples that distort his expression. At the bottom of the basin, hundreds of coins are spread across the smooth stone, overlapping each other like aquarium stones. A certain coin shines brighter than all the others. Sonic stares at it as if it’d share with him what the possum had wished for.

Whatever they said, it was not for him to know. That secret belongs to the statue casting its shadow over Sonic, not a hint of emotion marring its peaceful face. It held itself tall and proud, as if it knew the implications of the face it wore, of the plaque at its feet naming it the hero of all the world.

Sonic, in turn, felt small. He squeezes his hands at his sides, his gaze distant yet lasered on that reflection of himself and the coin just beyond it. There’s a storm brewing behind the dam of his neutral expression, the mask he never quite managed to drop all these years holding back something ugly and raw. He narrows his eyes and fixes it just a bit tighter.

There’s a pair of eyes on him. He can feel them on his back. He rolls his shoulders and tries to pinpoint where it’s coming from. His frazzled thoughts lend themselves to mapping out the surroundings in his mind.

Behind him, he hears a shout of his name. Or, perhaps, it’s the statue’s name. He doesn’t turn around, but he listens a little closer.

It’s a kid, if the childish lilt is any proper indication. “Mom, mom!” The kid practically screams. “Look, it’s Sonic!”

“Yes, sweetie,” replied a lady’s voice, most likely their mother, as mentioned. “We’ve seen him before.”

“No, it’s Sonic!”

The hedgehog turns. He finds the shining eyes of the kid, whose smile grows wider when they realize they have his attention. They wave excitedly and he snaps his head back around, peering up at the statue in front of him. 

There’s something lodged in his chest. He forces an exhale in a valiant attempt to make himself breathe again. Of all people, he wasn’t expecting to be recognized by a kid. Although, he’s standing right in front of a statue bearing his likeness and name, so perhaps he should be more surprised that he hadn’t been recognized sooner. 

He hears footsteps coming up to him. After a moment, he turns around, because it’d be rude not to. The kid shuffles toward him, beaming. “Hi, Mr. Sonic!”

Something in him shifts and a smile slips on his face as easily as water. “Hey, kiddo.”

They squeal, closing the remaining distance in two hops. Sonic could swear there are stars in their eyes as they look up at him, breathless with awe. It’s… strange. He hasn’t been perceived like this in many years. He feels more bothered than he should be, but less bothered than he thought he’d be. Maybe it’s the innocent face. It reminds him of… his past.

The kid finally finds their voice. “It’s really you… It’s really you! You’re so, so cool! Is it true? All the stories Mom told me?”

Sonic chuckles lightly at their enthusiasm. “Maybe. What did you hear?”

“She told me you’re a hero, and you do great things like saving the world! You fought monsters! Aliens! Robots! They were big and scary and you stopped them all by yourself! She said, there was a lot of evil, and you got rid of all of it, and that’s why I get to be here today! She says you can do anything!”

They look so… wonderstruck. Like in front of them stood their whole world. Sonic’s smile felt increasingly stitched in place, tugging in the wrong places, twitching with strain. He keeps smiling nonetheless. “Well, it wasn’t all by myself,” he says, driving the wisps of hoarseness from his voice. “I… I had friends with me.”

“I have friends too!” The pup folds their hands behind their back, suddenly growing bashful as they rock on their heels. “Do you think we'll save the world one day?”

Sonic pauses for a touch too long. The kid blinks up at him, anxiously waiting for his opinion like it would determine their future. “...Of course,” he amends, crouching down to be eye level with them. “You can always start by helping the people around you.”

The pup nods vigorously. “Okay! I will!”

“Faith?”

Both of them look up. Sonic finds the source of the voice faster than the kid does— it’s their mom, nervously swinging about and calling out for what must be her child. 

“Mom!” the kid— Faith— yells, waving at her when she spots them. They turn back to Sonic. “I have to go.”

Sonic nods and pulls his smile a bit wider, hoping the kid couldn’t see the jumble of emotions behind it. Before he can stand, Faith holds up a hand for him to wait and fishes in their pocket for something. When they find it, they flutter their fingers at Sonic in a demand for his hand. He obliges. Gently, they place their fist into his palm. Sparkling eyes meet Sonic’s. 

“I wanna be you when I grow up,” Faith whispers sincerely. They open their hand and drop the coin they were holding into Sonic’s. The little piece of metal is warm from body heat and wholehearted belief.

“Kid…” Sonic whispers back, but they’ve already turned around to run into their mother’s arms, and his words are lost to the clamor of the city. He closes his mouth as he watches them go, catching the happy wave Faith sends at him as they walk away.

He stares at the coin in his palm. Breathing suddenly feels too hard of a job. He closes his fist and glances at the statue shadowing him, unfazed by the millions of wishes it guards while he crumbles under just one.

I wanna be you when I grow up.

He doesn’t stop himself from running this time. Can’t stop himself. He extends a scattered, silent apology to the people he shoves through, the people caught in the wind in his wake, the people who did not sign up to see a distressed blur of blue cut through their city at just under sound speed. He extends an apology to Faith, whose wish he holds in the palm of his hand, whose wish he cannot grant.

He remembers he can teleport. He swerves into the nearest empty alley, holding his breath as he calls on the chaos emeralds. They snap to life as he skids on the concrete, yanking him through space-time just before he hits a wall.

He’s greeted by green. Momentum carries him forward still, although his legs no longer pump. Normally, he’d stop his fall, dust himself off, and skip away. This time, he just lets his face smack the dirt.

When he finds the strength to breathe again, he rolls on his back. The overcast sky looms over him. There is a tree or two in the corners of his vision. He can’t tell where he is. It’s familiar, like most of the world is familiar. Some part of him knows. It doesn’t matter much, anyway.

He curls his fingers tighter around Faith’s coin. He holds it up. It’s so small, so innocent. It’s hard to believe that this is what freed the jumbled mess of whatever-it-is from its room in his mind. It was less of a key and more of a brute-forced lockpick, but the point stands.

Why did it hurt so much?

He doesn’t understand. He’s been idolized before. It was the whole reason he decided to hide away from society for the past few decades, staying on the fringes— to let the last of his past die. But somehow, it grew stronger. Somehow, he grew worse. He should be used to it. He shouldn’t feel like this. He’s not supposed to.

What happened to him?

He closes his eyes and thinks of the statue, standing tall and unfazed, a symbol of hope for the people it serves. He imagines what it would look like when the sun was out, the fountain of wishes sparkling with coins, its serenity lit like the sky. 

The statue seemed more like Sonic than he did.

A drop plinks onto the coin, rolling off and splashing onto his muzzle. He opens his eyes to look at the clouds. Another drop falls on his forehead. Of course it’s raining. He supposes it’s his fault for not heeding nature’s warnings.

The sprinkle turns into a steady drizzle, but he doesn’t move. He drops his arm into the grass and lets the rain soak him through. And if it slides down his cheeks like tears, that was no one’s business but his own.

…Until he feels a tug of chaos energy, a little burst in the middle of his chest. Apparently, since he hasn’t returned, home has come to find him instead. He isn’t sure how to feel about that. He isn’t sure how he feels at all.

It’s ironic. Shadow’s the more emotionally mature of the two of them, now. To think he used to tease the stoic hedgehog to open up, and now he can’t even do that himself. He lets out a bitter laugh and throws an arm over his eyes.

“Tell me,” Shadow sighs. Sonic shakes his head and clenches that coin tighter. He feels like a stubborn child. The rain pelts him a little harder, drumming on his body and streaking through his fur, like the planet itself was taking Shadow’s side. It probably was.

I wanna be you when I grow up.

He shudders. “I don’t wanna be me,” he whispers, maybe to himself, maybe to Faith, maybe to Shadow, maybe to no one at all. It is truer than he’d like it to be. “I don’t wanna be me,” he repeats, for good measure.

“What do you mean?” Shadow sounds ready to punch someone. Sonic knows that’s his concerned tone, but it suddenly strikes him as funny. He’s the only problem Shadow could take it out on. Maybe it’d be good for him. Maybe a spar would fix him. Maybe he just needs the shit beaten out of him, just like before.

Shadow must see his smile, because he lets out a quiet noise of confusion. Sonic can only imagine his expression. A bit of bewilderment, covered in frustration, and maybe a sliver of concern. “I went into the city.”

There are many cities, but the particular one doesn’t matter. Sonic doesn’t need Shadow to charge in and find nothing wrong. He does wonder, though, if seeing the statue would do anything to the other hedgehog as it did to him. Probably not.

Seeing that Sonic would not be elaborating, Shadow’s frustration predictably rose. “Talk. What happened?”

“Nothing.” A pause. He feels carmine eyes drill into him. “I got emotional for no reason.”

“Then it’s not nothing. Tell me what happened. Why are you being so obstinate?”

Sonic lifts his arm and peers at the spot Shadow’s voice was coming from. It takes a moment for his vision to focus, but then he can see that the other hedgehog looks exactly as he imagined— arms crossed over his chest, brows furrowed, everything screaming anger, yet it’s just a facade for the care beneath. The two sigh in tandem.

“What am I?”

Shadow blinks at the question. “You’re Sonic.”

“Then, what is Sonic?” His voice is saturated with some sort of desperation, snagging in his throat and stinging like salt water. When Shadow pauses for too long, he plows forward. “They… They called me a hero. Built me a statue, and wished on it. Like… Like it’s a temple. Like I’m a god.”

“You are a god.”

“No.”

“Yes.” Shadow shifts, eyeing the rain clouds before looking back at Sonic. “You are immortal. Powerful beyond measure. You command the lifeblood of this world. You are, by definition, a god.”

“Don’t,” Sonic sputters. ‘Not you too,’ is unsaid. He covers his eyes again and takes a shaky breath. The rain grows increasingly irritating, yet he doesn’t move. It’s comforting, in a way.

Shadow sighs. It’s distant to Sonic’s ears. “Alright.”

There's a long pause. The silence is eaten by the steady roll of rain over the land, punctuated by a quiet crack of distant thunder and the strained puffs of Sonic’s breathing. Water seeps into everything, and he’s reminded of a time when he feared it. When he could fear it. When drowning was a concern he couldn’t escape with a snap. It seems too long ago now.

“What do you want to be?” Shadow’s voice carries in the drops that pelt Sonic’s face. He doesn’t have an answer for it, for him, for them.

“I don’t know,” he says, because he doesn’t want to sit in the quiet.

There’s a faint rustling. Sonic thinks Shadow has moved closer. He doesn’t look to check. When the other speaks again, it’s enough to confirm their proximity. “You don’t have to be what they say you are.”

Sonic laughs. It’s too broken for his liking, but he can’t exactly fix it. “You just told me I am.”

He thinks he’s got Shadow there, when no reply comes. It is not so. A few seconds later, the air fills with contemplation at the other’s heavy sigh. “By definition, yes, but not everything has to be by definition. You can bend meanings. You can change them entirely. Linguistics is fluid, and so are you. You are not confined to what this world made you to be.”

Sonic shifts his arm and blinks. Out of his pocket of vision, he stares wearily at the Shadow that hangs over him. They stay like that for a lasting moment before Sonic cracks a thin smile. “This is sounding familiar.”

“That’s because you’re a hypocrite,” Shadow scoffs, and Sonic remembers saying something similar to him, once, during the Black Arms Invasion. His words weren’t as refined, but they held the same meaning. They were as sincere as the ones Shadow echoes now. 

“Listen to your own advice. Live by your own standards. It’s okay. Just be Sonic.”

Sonic hums, trailing off as he smiles, genuinely this time. He fiddles the coin in his hand, turning it around and around. In his periphery, he can see Shadow looking at it curiously. He chooses not to tell.

“Okay. I’ll try.” He closes his fist around the wish, bringing it to his heart. Rainwater drips off his quills in streams as he sits up, bobbing his head at Shadow in an invitation. 

“C’mon now, I wanna go home.”

Chapter Text

Shadow leans against a tree, basking in the dappled sun with the gentle breeze brushing past his face, his eyes half-lidded in contentment. It’s a preciously peaceful moment, like something straight out of a fairy tale. 

He could see Angel Island as a fantastical setting— it’s riddled with enough ruins to fuel the wildest imaginations of what used to be. He’s still working through all the truths himself, even after decades of living on the island.

A chao toddles up to him, interrupting his musings. It looks up at Shadow with bulbous eyes and babbles in its language before hugging his leg. He blinks at it. When it doesn’t go away, he huffs, half amusement and half resignation. Crouching down, he picks the chao up as if it were his child and clucks his tongue in absent disapproval. “What do you want?”

The chao, of course, doesn’t answer him. Shadow figures it was just vying for attention. It doesn’t seem to want it for long, however; it starts to wiggle in Shadow’s grasp, flapping its wings in a vain attempt to get away. He sets it down and watches as it runs off. 

On a whim, he follows it. Something tells him he should.

The breeze grows stronger as they approach their destination, carrying whispers of chaos energy— familiar energy. Shadow’s suspicions are confirmed when he brushes aside the foliage and spots Sonic. The blue hedgehog is on the other side of the chao garden, drawing in its residents like a magnet. He’s sitting cross-legged on the grass, one arm resting on his knee, cheek against his fist, and the other guiding the wind in a vortex. It’s small, safe enough that the chao walk into it excitedly, giggling as they’re spun in the air. 

Despite playing with the little creatures, Sonic doesn’t seem to feel the same joy. His expression is flat as he watches them tumble, as if he were an attendant at a carnival ride rather than one of the thrill seekers. The chaos emeralds betray no additional emotion— they orbit Sonic languidly, systematically catching the sun in their facets. It’s all… detached. Deflated.

Shadow continues watching from a distance, unnoticed until another chao bumps into him with a bright chirp. He steps out of the way, and when he looks back up, he meets the emerald eyes of Sonic.

The blue hedgehog gives a lopsided smile, ear flicking in greeting. Neither speaks for a few minutes, attention trained on each other as if daring the other to start. Eventually, it’s Shadow who accepts this challenge. “Your chao want out.”

Sonic coughs and breaks eye contact with sheepish haste, gently letting the chao in his artificial eddy float to the ground. They gratefully disperse, a few staying close and the rest going off to find new joys. Shadow takes the opportunity to walk closer.

“So, what’d ya need me for?” Sonic murmurs, now fidgeting with his bracelet to placate his active subconscious.

Shadow felt his brow raise slightly. “Nothing,” he clarifies, though he’s sure the other knows this already. He wouldn’t stall so long, if it were urgent. “I just happened to come by.”

He sees disappointment flicker on Sonic’s face, quickly stuffed away— but not fast enough to escape his perception. He narrows his eyes. They both know each other well enough to pick up on the nuances that give away emotion. Sonic should know that his act is futile.

At least he seems to realize this belatedly, letting his expression drop into something more true. “Yeah, yeah. I’m just bored, don’t get on my case about it.” He wags a finger at Shadow, who looks at him deadpan.

“Hmph. You could help me map Angel Island,” Shadow offers, again. He’s already asked this of Sonic, seeing as he knows the island better— and that he likes to explore. Alas, it hadn’t come to much, and most of the work so far has been done by Shadow himself.

Perhaps it was too tedious for Sonic, who flops flat on the ground with a light groan. “Why do you need a map? I can just tell you where things are.”

“And when you’re not here for that? I need to know the island myself. Unlike Knuckles,” he watches as Sonic shuts his eyes at the mention of his old friend, “I’m not so accepting of the land’s surprises. You’re more adventurous, and you’re bored.”

Sonic doesn’t open his eyes as he murmurs, “I’m always here, though.”

Shadow sighs through his nose. He’s glad the other can’t see the skepticism cross his face. “So it’s something for you to do.”

It’s quiet as Sonic considers this for far longer than he should. “Eh… later. We’ve got time. All we’ve got is time.”

Shadow doesn’t have a counter to that. Maybe if he put more effort into it, he’d come up with one, but his thoughts are directed to something else entirely.

It doesn’t feel right to hear those words come out of Sonic’s mouth. He remembers when the blue blur was always a step ahead of life, living in the moment, spontaneous and flourishing. This is wrong. Gray. Watered down. Shadow stands over this askew version of Sonic with a sinking heart and wonders how he let this become normal.

Before he can find the words to alleviate this, blue ears flick and draw his attention. A second later, Sonic’s eyes shoot open with a renewed spark. What could only be described as radiant thrill blooms on his face, coaxing out a thinly hidden smile. 

Shadow, too, perks up, though not to the same degree nor to the same stimulus. He’s just happy because Sonic’s happy. Regardless, his movements are enough for Sonic’s gaze to snap to him. “Did you feel that?”

Brow furrowing, Shadow shakes his head. He expands his consciousness and methodically feels around for whatever it was. His chaos sense isn’t as strong as Sonic’s, but with a little concentration…

There’s an anomaly, many miles away, a waning patch of unevenness in the balance. He brings himself back to reality, immediately met with Sonic bouncing on his heels where he was lying just a moment prior, the chaos emeralds revolving so fast that their recently solid forms stretch like putty. “So?”

Shadow hums in agreement. Sonic’s demeanor has completely flipped around by this point, a fresh breath of life injected in him by the disturbance. “C’mon, let's go!” 

The chaos emeralds snap into him before Shadow can say a word, and then he’s gone. An abnormally strong signature blinks into existence near where the anomaly occurred. The hedgehog still on Angel Island can only heave a sigh, albeit a bittersweet one.

At least Sonic’s feeling better.

He reaches out to the Master Emerald, borrowing some of its power to push through the barrier of reality. He focuses on that bright point of chaos, and in a flash of light, he’s there.

It’s quite the wake-up call when he appears dozens of meters in the air, head to the ground and skates to the sky. Of course Sonic would do that. Shadow scrambles to reorient himself, rockets firing to catch him before he eats dirt. The grass bellows outward to welcome him; he’d call it cheeky if they had any consciousness.

He looks up. Sonic is hanging upside-down, sheepishly waving. Vibrant magenta eyes scan their surroundings, both the surface and the energy running through every inch of it. The disturbance has largely dissipated, at least to Shadow. He’s not sure if Sonic can sense anything. He's harder to read when he’s transformed.

The shimmering hedgehog flips upright, one hand shielding his eyes as he looks into the distance. A wide grin stretches across his face. Shadow follows his gaze and spots a cyan glow against a passing cloud. 

“Silver!” Sonic shouts, voice echoing. The white hedgehog turns around. It’s a little hard for Shadow to decipher his expression, but he can see the excitement with which Silver waves as he flies over.

Silver looks about the same as they last saw him, which is expected. In contrast, they seem to be foreign to his eyes, if his surprised expression is any indication. “Sonic. What are you doing here? How are you here?” 

He gestures vaguely at Sonic’s illuminated form, to which Sonic scoffs lightheartedly. “Oh, y’know. Chaos emeralds. You were there when it happened, weren’t you?” He folds his hands behind his back, kicking his feet slightly. Shadow thinks he’s ecstatic to have someone from the past back. 

Although, after everything, who wouldn’t be?

Silver cocks his head. “Yeah, I remember. I just didn’t think you’d still… be alive.”

“What can I say? Chaos emeralds,” Sonic shrugs, like those two words were sufficient explanation for everything. Honestly, they might as well be. There wasn’t much that Shadow couldn’t trace back to them or, on occasion, the Master Emerald.

Silver doesn’t have their years of experience, however. Shadow isn’t sure where in the past he comes from. The last time they saw the time traveler was faint in his memory, but Shadow was certain it wasn’t recently enough for Silver to know. 

His assumption is supported by the evident confusion in Silver’s crooked smile, even though he nods. Probably for the best that he doesn’t question it. Shadow makes a mental note to explain things to him later.

Sonic’s running his mouth a mile a minute now, most of the words inconsequential. Something about life through the decades, centuries, into now. Silver listens intently, dotting comments and questions here and there. It’s so natural. Shadow can’t help but smile.

Until he looks closer, picking up on Sonic’s subtle fidgeting and the quiet glances thrown to the side. He follows the gaze into the city nearby. It wasn’t big by any means, but two flying hedgehogs weren’t a small sight. They’d attract attention soon. And Sonic has been averse to foreign eyes.

Shadow can see him start to draw back as he lands neatly in the grass, his form fading back to true blue as he hops over, the easy smile on his face hiding whispers of discomfort. Silver floats down as well, if only to more easily converse.

“So yeah! Me ‘n Shads have been up to a lot,” Sonic says, bumping Shadow’s side playfully. He takes the opportunity to insert himself into the conversation before Silver can take the reins.

“Hmph. I wouldn't say a lot. Certainly plenty, but for the time frame, quite little compared to… before,” he supplies. He catches Sonic rolling his eyes, more for show to the younger hedgehog than anything with genuine emotion. Shadow casts a glare at him before turning to Silver. “Will you be staying in the future?”

It feels weird to refer to their time as the future, having lived in it for so long, but he knows that Silver considers it so. The white hedgehog nods with a spark of excitement. “Well, yeah! It’s finally safe. Of course I’d stay. I wouldn’t want to mess anything up in the past.”

“Awesome! We can show you around Angel Island!” Sonic butts in. He waves in the general direction of the sky. “We’ve been living on it, since Shadow’s rock is up there. One more person won’t hurt.”

Shadow hums, already creating a mental checklist of the things they’ll need to teach Silver. “Does this mean you’ll help me map the island, now?”

“Aw, c’mon. I can just tell him where things are, too,” Sonic pouts. Then it’s Shadow’s turn to roll his eyes, sighing with the realization that he won’t win this argument. It brings a smug smile to his opponent’s face, and a slight confusion to Silver’s.

Choosing to ignore the looks on both the other hedgehogs’ faces, Sonic beckons them closer as he summons the chaos emeralds with a snap of his fingers. He flashes a grin at Silver as they begin to spin faster, blurring until into a multicolored vortex that burns with the familiar pull of Chaos Control.

In a burst of energy, they’re home.

Atop the altar of the Master Emerald, Shadow settles with a quiet sigh, sitting with one leg up and the other just off the first step. He closes his eyes, the smallest smile hinting at the corners of his mouth. The emerald behind him hums a low note, also basking in the brilliant blue hour descending in the wake of the sunset.

The view is always beautiful up here, as if the paradise on the island itself wasn’t enough of a treasure for the eyes. It certainly makes waiting easier, although Shadow considers himself a patient person regardless. A lifetime of uncertainties has fostered in him a deep appreciation of quiet moments like these.

It’s a while before cyan appears against the deep blue sky, bringing with it the hedgehog Shadow was waiting for. Silver spots him from afar, changing course to land directly on the altar top. For a flicker, his psychokinesis joins the few lights illuminating the space— then it’s just the glowing dusk and the softness of the Master Emerald.

With a swift gesture, Shadow beckons Silver closer, inviting him to sit. He then turns his attention back to the horizon, brief motions in his periphery telling him that the younger hedgehog has indeed obliged. Together, in silence, they watch the sky dim.

Since he’s the one who requested for Silver, Shadow supposes he should speak first. It’s… harder than he expected. The years he spent in solitude, just Sonic for company, have whittled away at his already poor conversational skills. Someone else usually leads. He’s not sure what to say.

He supposes he can start by paying attention to the other party. He glances at Silver, carefully enough not to attract his attention. Compared to Sonic, he’s easier to read, but harder to understand— Shadow is not as well acquainted with Silver’s tells, but there are obvious quirks in his behavior that probably correlate to emotions. He should get used to them, if the time traveler is staying for good, so he takes care in analyzing everything he observes.

Silver sits with very poor posture— crossed-legged, leaning forward, arms propped up on his knees and chin propped up in his hands. His expression is largely neutral as he regards the horizon as Shadow had. There is a quirk of a smile in his mouth, however, so he must be enjoying himself. He does seem quite relaxed.

It is on that note that Shadow asks, “What do you see?”

Silver blinks, turning his head to meet attentive red eyes. He seems to process the question for a moment before letting those hints of a smile grow full. “Everything.”

Shadow isn’t sure what he was expecting, if anything, but it was not that. “...Everything?”

“Mhm,” Silver nods. He shifts and straightens his back, tilting his head up like a flower to the sun. “It’s beautiful.”

Shadow hums thoughtfully. He, of course, could not deny the beauty of their surroundings. He’s seen the whole world go by from Angel Island, from oceans to mountains to valleys, day by day, and today’s view was no less awe-striking than the others. He supposes that now could encompass everything.

“So… why did you ask?” Silver prompts. Shadow lets out a soft sigh. Slowly, he holds a hand out, palm to the sky. Between his fingers, the first star of the evening shines against the sun’s waning light.

“It’s… about Sonic. To you and I, this might be everything. We have fought for our right to exist here. We are content to rest, and enjoy our acceptance in this world.” As the words flow, Shadow hopes he’s not misjudging Silver’s feelings. But something tells him that he’s right, so he continues.

“Sonic, however… he’s not disposed to rest. He fights not to stay, but to thrive. He seeks thrill and fluidity. You know this as adventure. He knows this as life.” Shadow drops his hand and looks into Silver’s golden eyes. 

“The problem is, there’s only so much room in this world, and Sonic has run through it all. He holds everything in the palm of his hand. He can do anything… but that’s not what he wants— what he needs. There’s no thrill in going through the same motions a thousand times. His freedom is bound by the limits of this planet, and the longer we’re here, the worse it gets. He’s dying.”

Silver takes a sharp breath at the last word, and Shadow stops in his tracks. He doesn’t usually speak this much in one stroke, nor this passionately. He lets the silence swirl for a moment, watching it all sink into Silver, before whispering, “Metaphorically.”

“So what do we do?” is the determined response, fired with the care of a friend. Shadow can admire the tenacity.

“Not we. You.” He turns his body and folds his legs to mirror Silver’s criss-cross position. It gives him a better view of the other’s puzzled expression as he turns those words in his head.

“What?”

“I need you to talk to him. Tell him he can leave. The answer is right there,” Shadow gestures at the sky, among the sparse stars reaching through the twilight. “A universe of unknowns exists. More than chaos energy has reached. More than he can imagine. He just needs to go.”

Silver considers this quietly. One hand drops off his lap and idly traces a crack in the stone. “...Why me? I mean, I’ll do it, but why don’t you tell him? You know him better, don’t you?”

“That’s the problem. We’re too intertwined. He knows what he is to me. I’ve become the anchor to his ship— he stays for my sake. And I… I appreciate the thought, but he’s sacrificed enough.” 

Shadow shuts his eyes and takes a deep breath. “If I could convince him alone, I would have done so already. He will not listen to me. I am confident in this.”

Perhaps it is the frustration-laced urgency to his words, or the deeply-rooted care behind them, but something brings acceptance to Silver’s face. Shadow hopes it’s clear now how important this is. “Okay, I’ll talk to him for you. I’ll go find him right now! He shouldn't be far from where I left him.”

Cyan energy envelopes Silver as he pushes himself off the ground, ready to fly. He looks back at Shadow with an optimistic smile. “I’ll let you know how it goes!”

Shadow lets out an appreciative huff, for the words “thank you” had escaped his mind. By the time he remembers, Silver is too far away to reasonably tell him. He’ll have to keep it for later.

The Master Emerald pulses slightly brighter, turning Shadow’s attention to it. He stares at it for a moment, wisps of memories floating about his mind. Then he closes his eyes and sighs.

It’s a waiting game, now.

The waning crescent moon peeks through the clouds of stars, soon to disappear into the shadows before rising once more. For now, it shines on the weathered stones of the altar with its remaining might, mingling with the viridian of the Master Emerald.

Shadow stands at the edge of the island, slowly taking in the view. The ocean beneath them is calm, the moonglade on its surface rippling with gentle waves. It’s almost suspiciously picture-perfect, enough to make him doubt.

However, logic says that nothing’s happened for the past century that could even begin to threaten Angel Island or the treasure keeping it aloft. He’s positive that nothing will go wrong— and if something does, there are three powerful hedgehogs willing to fight it.

Speaking of the other two, Shadow’s ears flick with sound. Someone’s approaching him. Their steps are too careful to be a chao or other critter, too confident to truly be sneaking up on him. It’s someone who knows he knows of their presence, who can only be the one he’s spent so long with.

Indeed, Sonic walks up beside him, expression neutral— on the surface. It hides pieces of emotion that betray the character beneath the face. Among those pieces are a complicated adoration and a sense of relief. Shadow supposes that Silver’s succeeded, then.

Neither hedgehog speaks, allowing nature to fill their silence. Sonic seems to have brought its music with him: a symphony of crickets chirping in the grass, paired with the distant song of a nightingale, the soft rustle of leaves, and the whispering wind. It reminds them that the planet is alive, and waiting.

“So,” Sonic breathes, his voice mingling with that of the world. He lifts his hand to release a firefly that had settled on it, watching it fly off before continuing. “Why didn’t you just tell me yourself?”

“You wouldn’t have listened to me,” Shadow replies. It’s quite a stupid question, but perhaps Sonic genuinely does not realize. He can be stubbornly unknowledgeable when it comes to his own feelings.

It seems so, as the blue hedgehog cocks his head in genuine doubt. “I wouldn’t say that.”

Shadow sighs, deep and gentle. “You would have left already if it weren’t for me; don’t deny it. You care more than you think. I’ve seen and felt it. I know you, Sonic. And I know you need more than this.”

He looks into Sonic’s eyes and pours sincerity through his own, hoping the waning crescent reflected in those emeralds could catch it all. It’s more than Shadow has the words to express, and probably more than he needs to give. But, if there was any time to be vulnerable, it was now.

Sonic stares at him like they were seeing each other for the first time. Come to think of it, there is the same reverence in his eyes as that fateful night in the city streets, both of them harboring excitement to have met an equal despite their opposing goals, both of them scrappy and too young to know what their future holds.

Who would have guessed?

Quiet has inserted itself into their conversation again, although it’s welcome in the night. Shadow lowers himself to the ground and pats the space beside him, inviting Sonic to sit. The blue hedgehog smiles softly and plops on the ground, scooting closer until they are side by side, barely an inch away from leaning on each other. 

There’s something electrifying and new buzzing in the sliver of empty space. It takes a moment for the chaos emeralds to flash into existence, then slowly orbit them like planets to stars. It’s serene and secretive in the way night always seems to be.

The quiet can’t stay forever, though, no matter how much Shadow enjoys it. The moon will set, the sun will rise; time will march on, and bring change with it. They can’t stay forever. So, he asks, “When will you leave?”

Sonic takes a deep breath. “...I was thinking right now.”

Somehow, despite hoping for a moment longer, Shadow isn’t surprised. Perhaps it’s the part of him that knows it’s been long enough. Sonic seems to miss the acceptance in his nod, or maybe it’s been so long he’s doubting himself.

“Are you… sure you’re okay with this?”

Shadow snorts and flicks his blue forehead, as if that would finally get through his thick skull. “This is what I mean when I say you’d never listen. Go.” He takes Sonic’s hands in his own, brushing against the bracelet on the other’s wrist. Love, he thinks. They do everything for it.  

“I’ll be fine. We’ll be fine.” He sucks in a breath, hoping to corral the strain in his voice. “Just… come back with stories, alright? I’ll be waiting.”

Sonic smiles knowingly. “I’ll miss you too.” 

Without letting go, he stands, then helps Shadow up. The chaos emeralds close their orbit, snapping into Sonic like they were meant to be— because they were meant to be. Emerald eyes shift through a cascade of colors before settling on magenta. Moonlit blue gives to iridescent white, glowing with power like the sun and stars. 

Shadow squeezes Sonic’s hands, a small smile of his own falling into place. Before he can step back, however, he’s pulled into a hug.

It takes a second for him to reciprocate, and in that time Sonic nestles his face in the crook of Shadow’s neck, squeezing him a pinch tighter. With a soft sigh, Shadow rubs the other’s back reassuringly, feeling chaos energy ripple off in waves. Each carries a fraction of the sentimentality that Sonic pours into their embrace.

When they pull apart, his heart feels lighter. He feels more ready. Shadow studies the illuminated hedgehog intently, memorizing his form to accompany his memory. He looks more alive than he has in years, and that simple fact is worth spending the impending centuries in his absence.

Sonic takes a deep breath and whispers a quiet “Sayonara, Shadow.” Then, he takes two running steps back. As Shadow watches, he winks and flips off the very edge of the island, dropping toward the sea.

When he flies up, the ocean waters reflect his radiance as it does the moon, painting a dance of light on its surface as Sonic curves in a wide loop, letting out a shout of unbridled joy. He shoots for the sky and brilliant tail trails behind him, like a comet in reverse, returning home to the stars.