Sonic: Sketchy
Concept by M.C. Griffin
Written by Sean Catlett and M.C. Griffin
Friday
“This was all inevitable. You know that, right? There’s no stopping it.”
“I know.”
“The fact that it’s mutual is a technicality.”
“Right. So… what are we going to do about it?”
“I’m not sure.”
“What everyone else does?” I don’t say anything. Tails leans closer to me. “What you’ve done?”
That was different. We needed each other.
No. It’s not right.
Why not?
It’s not right like it’s not right to fight back! It just creates more problems rather than destroy them. Why would you want creation over destruction, anyway? Things just get more complicated.
The oily waves crash on the shore below us. The sun didn’t set last night, and it held a steady position on the horizon, frozen forever. Nobody would care. I’ve corrupted all I can.
I never answer Tails’ question. I start to climb down from the oil tower.
I’m barely hurting, the pain merely a dull annoyance. Even though that fall should have fucked me up good, it didn’t. Even though I had my ass handed to me, it still functions. Lucky me.
Down on ground level, we start walking. The flying patrols above leave us alone, indifferent. Robotnik, he already knows about us, and he probably would have known anyway.
It doesn’t take us long to reach the nearby subject village, the ones who are all within their own world within another, ignorant the entire way. They aren’t worth the trouble, really…
But… there’s nothing else.
Was.
Probably will be.
There’s nothing else that would be deconstructive, nothing that would satisfy me.
Immediately, when I walk into their village, I get the strangest feeling…
Vines are everywhere, carelessly and unprofessionally lain about. Crude oil and fumes instead of a temple, a garden of drugs, and a religion. My eyes don’t hurt because I’m so used to the pain. A big cat walks up to me, overweight yet malnourished, crossed eyes and one side of his face numb, and he points at what he has in his hand.
“Froggy, say hello to the nice visitors,” his voice kind and cracked with slurred vowels. The dead frog in his hand doesn’t move. “Froggy says hello.”
“Hello,” Tails waves back and smiles sweetly.
“His name is also Kareu-Kun, and he sleeps on the sun sometimes.” The little yellow and green frog’s eyes are crossed even in death.
This village has no need for an officer, for obvious reasons. Convenient for us.
Damn.
The strange feeling stays with me as we gather everyone into a circle. I recite the exact same speech I gave the Freedom Fighter group a few days ago, word for word, but the feeling is different this time around. Not just because of the repetition and change of setting, but… maybe because I felt the same the first time, and I’m barely noticing. The hopelessness is so much more tangible with these slaves.
This is how it’s going to be for awhile. This inescapable feeling that I shouldn’t be missing something, but I am. That I’m missing the picture because I’m looking at it wrong and I can never right myself, because I don’t know what right is. Somehow, these new facts and clues should be significant. They feel like they could help me.
Freeing them would make no difference.
I know… still…
This is a second chance at escaping. I can avoid mistakes this time, I can think of simple plans to execute so I can’t fuck them up as easily. Simplify, rectify. I can make it right again…
I decide to turn off the valves myself this time, while everyone else heads towards the exit.
Under all that black oil, where the sound is muffled and it seems like the world has ended and I’m the only one left, where it feels like I’m in an unending coma, I start to think about things…
Things about my past. The past trivial, the future uncertain, and the present shaky ground to stand on, I have only the now to rely on, the sturdiest foothold yet always moving as fast as I am. In the cold blackness enveloped around me, I start to remember…
All those subjects I had escorted to oblivion, all those training ops I went though, all that data I memorized, and all those movies I watched. During Lock Up, that prison movie, Robotnik said to me “We’re all prisoners of something.” Coconuts must have seen the same movie. Strangely, it makes sense, because even if you’re not someone else’s slave, you’re a slave to yourself. My back hurts. My head hurts. I can feel the Emeralds inside me, like lumps of coal, not working, not aflame like they once were. They seem all but used up, dead cells I can’t assimilate or shit out. They’re all a part of me.
Forever.
I haven’t slept in two days. I don’t count passing out since I don’t get real rest from that. As I swim down and down and further down, I start to see things… and I see Antoine staring up at me from the black, a hard stare, accusing eyes, and I can see this so clearly, even though my eyes are closed. Sally comes up next, mutilated, with her face halfway torn off, and I can’t help but scream. I lose more oxygen and my chances of surviving are minimal.
My hand hits the metal of the valve, and I turn it, slowly, hoping I would feel the pincer of a retrieval unit and I would be pulled back to the top, and he would care again. Maybe this is what I want: to be captured. To fail. It would at least give me a sense of purpose. What’s the point of doing anything if no one is watching?
When I open my eyes again I’m running back to the village, along the shoreline of the sludge, covered in black and looking very strange probably as a blur, the world around me mixing in itself and seeming not all that harshly cornered, still free and still a slave. Running like this, the sun is still setting, the world still moving, and nothing is perfect anymore. I can pretend that I didn’t fuck it all up, that I didn’t make it worse.
The new refugees had reached the exit by the time I met them again. None were dead. None were bleeding from fresh wounds. None were tired or on the verge of collapse. He still doesn’t care enough to stop me from helping them.
Maybe he’ll ambush us at the last minute…
They all walk out, slowly, talking amongst themselves. They’re excited, of course, but not grasping the significance of the situation. It’s a field trip to them.
My eyes search the horizon, the fake sky, the atmosphere, for something, anything, but they eventually fall back on Death Egg, hovering above all of us, and they don’t look up at it once, not even when the last of them leave. They all don’t get it. I just saved their lives and they don’t get it. Nobody’s watching.
And he still doesn’t care.
My ass hits the grass. I hold my head in my hands, and I cry.
I bawl like a little bitch and it still doesn’t feel good afterwards. I lost a father. He disowned a son. This is worse than abandonment. This is abortion.
I hate him.
I
hate
him.
Tails’ hands wrap around my head. She’s clutching me, tightly, against her chest, and I can hear her heart beating. Somehow, she knows. She knows what I’m really crying about, and she knows how to make me feel better.
Not once does Tails mention to me that we both could leave, right there, and forgot about everything that had happened, and maybe start anew. Try to live on the outside world like the rest of it was a bad dream. Try to make it work this time. Game over, try again?
I’m sorry.
I can’t forget.
I can never forget.
And right at that thought… the tears stop coming.
For good.
**********
We all still have a glimpse of hope, that can be small sometimes, but nevertheless it is there and it is enough. Hope is not an emotion, and that is why I like it. It can barely be defined as anything other than itself, which means it’s intangible. If anyone has hope in them then that means it breeds eternal. Hope can live forever. Hope can also die in an instant. Anyone can hope for death or destruction, life and creation, and it would be the same thing.
So there you go. Something uplifting. Leave me alone now.
**********
Walking to the end of the world, Tails and I had passed the biplane.
There’s something you need to understand about Robotnik and how he used to be. Just like the God in the Old Testament, the Doctor used to be hot tempered and obsessive. I was told that vast amounts of planning went into everything, and the contingency plan was two-hundred miles long, home to millions of what-ifs and hypotheticals.
The biplane was Plan B, just in case he couldn’t escape in whatever was Plan A. The escape route must be a secret one as well. It didn’t matter that this plane was out in the open where any wandering animal could find it. They wouldn’t know what it is, much less how to pilot it. Also, anything could be made up about it from a religious aspect.
The plane was close to the end of the world, next to us, ready for take off. However, the walls of the outside world beckoned me, pulled me in…
I pressed my hands up against it. Vibrating warmth and an inviting coldness. So tempting.
“We’re not, are we?”
Not moving my hand away, I turn to her. “I’m not.”
“Then neither am I.”
“I’m… sorry.”
“Don’t be.”
“You know… this will never get better.”
“I-”
My hand grows hotter, reaching borderline boiling point. Outside, the world must be pulsing and beating with circulation. It’s alive, much more than this place. I was an invader anyway, rejected and thrown away. Although, it doesn’t matter much anymore. This place…
The place I could never stand, and it seems so much colder now. It lacks what it used to have. The shell is all that’s left… and the outside seems so different.
Then…
And then… what next?
I turn around to barely see the tail end of a gigantic flash, like a bomb or some other explosion. Rockets. Smoke. The Death Egg rising into the sky. This is not surprising. This is not shocking. This shouldn’t have knocked me back.
But still… the sight of it towering above me, stretching higher and higher, the thought of the shadow of its reach going even further, infecting the warmth of the outside…
My heart stops beating. “No, no, NO! Not this soon!” and suddenly I’m running back towards the plane.
Heaven woke up.
**********
It was morning again.
The park opened.
The rides started up.
The customers started to flow inwards.
It all stopped when they heard the roar of the engines.
Then…
**********
I jump into the pilot seat of the small biplane and I can’t help but wonder if this is destiny or dumb luck. Maybe both.
Tails finally catches up and straps herself in Snively’s seat behind me, cramped limbs pressed against her chest. Me, I have to stand up to see over the dash.
Robotnik built the biplane from scratch, you see, so the startup, takeoff, flying, and landing procedures were all designed by him. Everything is quick, to the point, and fully automated. Perfect for any crazed scientist on the run.
Fuel = full. Nitro = full. Everything = go. I turn the ignition.
Disappointed that the plane doesn’t explode, I watch as the propellers on both sides of us whir to life and start to spin. Tails covers her ears. The Death Egg is still flying away, further and further from us, rockets pushing flames out below, and it doesn’t hesitate to exit.
We take off, the ground rushing away all too quickly. Looking at it from above, a sense of overwhelming loss covers me like a blanket that’s way too hot.
Just like that, it’s gone. All gone. Nothing but the future ahead of me and Tails, the wind still and calm, the momentum kicking up, the sun steady on the horizon. And then all is obscured by a great shadow.
**********
The door closed with a slight whooshing of air, and Shadow walked with Rouge and a teary-eyed Sera. Without a word, they sat down on the chairs and strapped themselves in, their movements mimicking each other. For the next twenty minutes, nobody spoke, the steady hum of the engines and the turbulence unnoticed.
And while the ship shook with vibration, when they were slightly rocked with explosions from the guns, when the sirens went off because of the intruder, they did not say a word to each other, because they knew, they both knew what to do. The only one who didn’t know was Sera, who was too busy crying to notice anything that was going on.
Before they left, Shadow handed the gun to Rouge.
**********
The auto-pilot switch was easy to find, and immediately I pressed it. The wind was coming at us so harshly that I had to squint to see, my eyes drying out. It’s hard enough to control the plane with the vibrating control stick hitting my groin and the soreness of my knuckles. Fuck it, the plane can fly itself.
The sky opened up. Blue was in chaos, and I swallowed hard when I saw it all break apart. The Death Egg was flying up, up, up, to the outside world, escaping. Real, natural light shone in, the first I’ve technically ever seen. The amount of smoke from the Death Egg billowing around us was absolutely ridiculous, but if I followed the heat battering down on us, we could keep Robotnik in reach. We could catch up with him.
On and on, we flew, our senses bombarded on all sides by the acrid smell of the sulfur, that smell like rotten eggs and bacon, the way everything seemed to stand still, and really, we weren’t going anywhere, the wind in our eyes, the vibration knocking us around our egg-carton.
But we made it.
We were out.
To be honest, I do not feel better. No. I just feel a lot worse. I feel like all things are all downhill from there, that the world I had escaped was the best I could ever hope for. The smoke was covering endless misery and suffering ahead. And the thing is…
I chose it. I wanted it. I wanted this to happen.
I must be crazy…
I do not know what will happen when I see the sun for real. When I see real clouds. Real earth. A real world…
I’m not looking down.
I’m not looking up.
There is only one dimension, and that is forward and backwards. There’s no need for anything else.
**********
“You see, the beauty of controlling robots is that there is no questioning of orders. Surely, you can see the method to that madness. Surely, it makes some sort of sense. The question of morality is merely an intangible comparison. If you start preaching what is right and wrong then you’re just as bad as the people you fight. Right is majority rules. Believe me, they’ll all hate you again as soon as you do something to anger them. In the end, you’re not really free; you’re still working for someone, and that includes yourself. Try to understand me when I say that the only recourse left is self preservation. Do whatever you can to make yourself happy, and if that includes fucking everyone else over, then so be it. They would do the same thing. Don’t give me this hope crap, either, because there is none. There is only you. You and yourself. Hope is only a blindfold to protect you from the awful truth of things. The only way anything is ever interesting or good is if you’re doing things you never thought you’d do. It’s only routine if the sun sets on time, if the children in the school bus don’t die, and if you still only hold your girlfriend’s hand after three years of a relationship. When you finally do realize that the false barrier called “Hope” can be broken down, you’ll be bored just like me. Then, and only then, can you be called a real person. Then and only then can you truly be free.”
**********
Knuckles was leaning against a tree, relaxing, getting ready for the day ahead, when he felt the first blasts. The tree shook with such a vibration that all the leaves were violently shaken off, and then the flames started to rain down.
The day that was prepared and planned for had arrived. Finally.
Knuckles put on his hat and ran as fast as he could through the forest, to the headquarters, because he knew that soon the ‘bots would be dropping from the sky. He had to warn the people if they didn’t already know. As if.
**********
“This is why he built a fucking army!” Ahead, above the smoke trail and the cloud cover, a… an island floats.
Angel Island. The Chaotix. The Emeralds…
And Eggman was firing all barrels, the Death Egg descending on the place like a shroud of destruction, hovering in place, in the center of this fucking huge island, and firing down on it from the gun emplacements. The surface caught fire in small pockets and spread steadily, but it was too spread out to do significant damage. Of course, this was just the beginning.
What I was worried about were the concentrated areas, the populace, the structures scattered near the center, where the gunfire was steadily aiming. The island shook and rattled, falling apart at the seams.
And I could save them.
Tails says something but I can’t hear her over the rushing wind and distant booming. We are getting closer and I still don’t have a plan, but it’s not like I ever did. I usually just do the first thing that comes to mind.
So I roll into the backseat with Tails. I’m on my back, in her lap, like a newborn baby she’s holding in her arms, and I’m staring at her, yelling at the top of my lungs: “I’m going now!”
Beneath the saddest look I’ve ever seen in my life, she nods in understanding, and yells something to me which… I still can’t hear.
“It doesn’t matter! Get into the front seat and pilot the plane! Get as close as you can, but do not press anything other than the control stick!”
“I can’t drive this thing!”
“No, it’s real easy! Just like riding a bike!”
“A what?”
I jump out of the seat, and I’m crouching on top of the plane, riding the wind, hunched over and squinting.
What lies ahead will take a long time to get to, but I’m almost there.
**********
“We’re being fucked!”
“No shit!”
Knuckles ran into the room in a slight panic, but was calm and cool when he saw that everyone was up and ready. Well, that is, except for Lumina, but that was routine. He slicked back his hair, and nodded at his people.
“Okay, ladies and gentlemen, the day has finally come. Any minute that big-balled-fuck is gonna throw whatever he can at us, and when the shit rains down on our heads, remember to keep moving and kill whatever metal-heads you can. He doesn’t expect us to fight back, so hit him hard and where it hurts.” He paused, for effect, doing his best to hide how proud and confident he was, but failing.
Everyone, that is, everyone nodded, only Vector kept nodding because of the shit he was listening to, his music from the headphones so loud that the rest could pick up all the lyrics.
“Espio, get down to the gun emplacements and fire at will. Try to see if you can take some of them down with us, while you’re at it.”
“You got it, man.”
“Charmes, go with him.”
“Aw, fuckin’ shit,” they said in unison.
“Just go.” Knuckles made an involuntary ‘I’ll slap you both’ motion with the back of his hand, and out they went, muttering and pushing each other. Knuckles turned to the closest goon, a towering armadillo. “Mighty, get your ass outside and try to help as many of our citizens as you can.”
“Right, boss,” he sluggishly saluted, and left as well. The next was a small green duck with wild eyes and twitchy hands.
“Bean, get the surface charges set and be sure not to kill any of ours.”
“Rightrightsureyeah.” And in a flash he was gone as well.
“Vector.”
“…” Nodding.
“Vector…”
“…” Still nodding.
“VECTOR!”
The gator pointed to his ears. “Can’t hear you, man!” And kept nodding to the music, perfect rhythm, perfect sync.
A second later the headphones were off, and in pieces on the floor. Knuckles was holding the scaled neck in his clenched hands. “Patrol the fucking forests!”
“Lay off, man! Shit, mo’ fucka…” But did not make a move, and instead waited for Knuckles to release his grip before exiting. A spare set of headphones was pulled out, and the music went on. The croc left with style and grace.
“Fang, go with him. Utilize that talent of yours.”
The weasel walked out without a word, shouldered gun and camo gear. Next in line was a snow-white polar bear.
“Bark…”
“Yeah?”
“Kick ass.”
“Right, boss.”
The only ones left in the room now were Lume: on the couch in a drugged out daze, Heavy: the chatty one, and Bomb: the annoying one. Knuckles walked over to the two muscle men, putting his arms around their shoulders, no easy task.
“If they get back this far…”
“We know, sir.” A mechanical buzzing that could be construed as a sentence.
“Love youz guys.”
“PING!”
All of this mock-mobster thing was only to put everyone at ease, but it did the exact opposite. On the couch, Lumina was holding her head and screaming.
“Lume, stay there. I’m going above.” He pretended like what he said to her did not fall on deaf ears, and he walked out of the headquarters, downstairs.
**********
The Flying Battery was easy to board but even harder to get through. From the plane I had tried to board the Death Egg but the amount of smoke and fire was too thick to see anything, so I did the next best thing and I boarded this mechanical and engineering monstrosity.
I left the Tails and the plane in good faith, hoping that at least they would last long enough to die of old age, but as for me I was on a sui-homicidal rampage. A blue and spinning kamikaze. When I jumped off the plane I was hoping to be chopped apart by the triple blades on one of the engines, what I was aiming for, but no, I was right on target, and I grabbed the edge of the metal, just below the exhaust. Typical, hero bullshit. Nothing new for me or you.
The next thing, I’m racing on this sort of gnarled metal highway, oddly familiar as parts of my home, mutated beyond recognition. All of the new ‘bots both confuse and horrify me, especially when I destroy them. Giant metal cages, housing noxious, toxic, burning gasses, a product of merged nitrogen, and through them are the only ways that I can reach higher levels and I have to hold my breath and run along the edges of the insides, circling, nauseating, confusing, disorienting. Alarms are blaring but everything is so jumbled that colors turn vibrant, pulsing, and harsh. Giant propellers almost cut me in half when I reach the third level and I have to spin myself on them in order to continue. The alarms start to sing a fairly familiar tune, like something out of a Shinobi movie. Michael Jackson, kinda. All of the available traps that Robotnik set for me flare off when I fall for them, like a fake metal generator egg that just lets off more ‘bots, like before. Flames shoot out from springs. Stone balls shoot around like bullets. The metal around me no longer feels cold, but musical. Lively. Involuntarily, I start dancing. My foot smashes a ‘bot’s head when the music kicks up, and I’m flying, expecting to go God-like again at any moment, but I don’t, and the closer I come to the end of the flying machine, my heart beats faster and faster. I feel this sense of elation and powering up, charging the battery. I feel like biting through metal, making it die, making it bleed, as if that were possible. The lines become more blurred and the colors become more and more vibrant, and every time I have to detour outside again, I never look down because I’m afraid of the world outside, afraid that it’ll be just like the world inside. And I’m only halfway talking about Robotropolis, the dead place I left behind.
I reach another metal egg generator, and I think “fuck it” and I press the button anyway. The creature comes to life and it’s all metal spikes and eyes. I almost laugh out loud when I destroy it in one hit by standing on its head and moving when he comes down to strike. I’m on a fucking roll, I tell ya, and there isn’t a thing anyone can do about it. My high score racks up and I’m twenty inches longer. My ego swells as big as my chest. I have a cut on my head and the red is blinding me but I can’t give less of a shit because I FUCKING RULE ALL OF YOU PIECES OF SHIT!
I tear the place an entirely new asshole. The metal walls tear in half and flame shoots out at me but they can’t touch because I’m faster. I step on a placed mine and jump up quickly, and the ground explodes and suddenly all six levels in the infernal machine become one. I grip a bar above me that seemed way too high before, and I climb out to the top, on the docking area on the outside, where wind and smoke and fire is everywhere. The Death Egg blocks out the sun and my body vibrates from all the gun blasts, and I can’t help but think that he’s still up there, watching me, eyeing me, so I flip off every direction I see, my gloves hindering my finger a little but nevertheless being very effective. I smile. I fucking smile, you heard me, and it’s because my thoughts are going too fast for me to think, as if that makes any sense, and I tap my foot on the floor, deciding what I should do before my only standing ground crashes and burns.
Suddenly, in my brilliant thought patterns, I realize that the docking area had support shuttles, and I dash, faster than I would have thought possible, to a support shuttle, where I jump into this open-top high-speed transport that resembles an egg way too much. I take off and the machine becomes an extension of myself, and the blasts that start to come at me are in slow motion. I can dodge them easily, moving almost around them, in circles, and soon I reach not the Death Egg, but the Winged Fortress, another engineering nightmare, and I don’t slow down, I don’t stop, I just ram right into the side of the ship, my body flying through the protective glass, and I roll on the ground, unhurt, unscathed.
Now.
This is where it gets weird.
I come up, ready, on one knee, and I see an entire hoard of ‘bots, raised and ready, and immediately I think “fuck this” and I jump into the center of them and right back out again, their own fire destroying most, and I just shit on the rest. Something strange keeps happening, and everything metal I touch falls apart and dies, and new life springs forth underneath. Tiny, tiny animals are inside the ‘bots, they writhe and spasm on the ground, covered in fluid, and immediately when they look up at me, they start fucking or masturbating, which is my cue to get the fuck out of their sight as quickly as possible. I’ve taken out less than half of the entire army by myself. The Winged Fortress is impossible to enter without fucking me up royally, and I’m not that confident, or maybe I’m tired of all the moaning, so instead I stay on the outside, blown by wind onto levels upon levels. ‘Bots pop up from the ground and fire at me, and I avoid them entirely, once in a great while freeing them and trying to leave before they see me, but ultimately I fail. All around me are things trying desperately to stop my advance, and all they can do is succeed in letting me get on top.
and right about…
here
is where everything slows down a little bit. I smile to myself, because of how fast I am, I was, how fast I’ve become. The best they can muster in the time it’s taken me to get this far is only one of the versions of me, and it’s Silver, eyeing me expressionless, and any minute I expect Mecha to come out and join him, but seconds pass, and Silver is coming at me at top speeds, not waiting for me to attack. I don’t, and instead I move out of the way when he gets too close. He goes flying in the other direction, and when he arcs around the edge of the ship to come back at me I’m already there, right in his face. I eye him down for a split second, swearing that I could see the fear in Snively’s eyes somehow vicariously through the metal he controls, and I can only laugh as I grab hold of a small metal outcropping on his back in the middle of his flight arc, and I use his momentum and mine to steer him someplace entirely new…
The Death Egg.
I place my legs over the exhaust vents on either side so he can’t steer himself, and I feel a slight burn. My right arm wrapped around his neck and the other still clenching the outcropping, and I head-butt him in the back, cutting myself open again, blood flowing into my eyes, and not really proving anything. His arms flailing around, his entire body jerking but not swerving, I get bored and I search the sky. Most everything is dark save for the fire raging below and all being red because of the blood. I see Tails off in the distance, and I wave, hoping she’ll see, although it’s probably not a good idea to bother her while she’s dodging all the ‘bots that have been dispatched.
As me and my counterpart get closer and closer to the dwarfing body of metal, I start to feel a whole fuck-load better. The bleeding stops but it’s all still red and clotted. I’m still afraid to look down, and I keep my eyes, straight on the future until we slam right into it.
Hard.
Everything blinks out for a second…
Then BOOM motherfucker, we’re crashing through floors upon floors upon floors, his head caving in from the impact and I’m somehow unhurt, and the closer I get to the center of the ship, where we’re headed, I feel better and better. Getting…
Alarms are blaring in my ears to a vaguely familiar tune, like an upbeat techno movie fight song soundtrack, filled with beeps and pops and bass hits and a woman’s voice singing my name, over and over. I can’t help but think all of sudden that it’s all for me, that in reality my name is plastered on all that I see, but I just don’t recognize it. I see my name on packages of this stuff, I see merchandise with fake main characters and sidekicks, and Tails’ action-figure breasts have been toned down severely for the kiddies, so they don’t get any preteen ideas. My television show is bloodlessly-violent and still a huge bust size is a no-no. They call this protecting them. They call this educating the youth. They call this progress.
I look all around me and I see progress falling apart. I smash through metal and I don’t get hurt. Silver’s head looks like a pancake and long ago it stopped thrashing so much, and now, it can only be called twitching. Through it all, I think that it’s progress destroying progress destroying progress, that everything has layers, that nothing in simple anymore and it’s only complicated, but in degrees. I think somewhere in there that no matter how hard I try or how much I deny it, I can’t fix everything. It’s a giant 10,000,000 piece jigsaw puzzle with two-hundred pieces missing and half of them with the pictures ripped off. There’s no chance for it ever to be complete, which means there’s no chance in hell for me to ever be complete.
So…
I put the tops of my shoes over the bottom exhaust and it slows down even more. Between the sound of the engines and the crushing metal I can’t tell what me breathing or beating or living sounds like. The Death Egg… it makes everything so much colder. If it were possible for a black hole to lead somewhere, it would lead here. This is my worst fucking nightmare, and I’m steering right towards the center of it, not stopping, accelerating, accelerating, accelerating. If I slow down that means I have to see details, not blurred or dulled lines. I’d rather miss life than experience all of it, if you could even call this living. This is dying slowly, the glass is always half empty and it’s dropping. There are no more clouds in the sky. Every time I zoom past a ‘bot I avoid touching it, and already I can feel Silver’s metal heating up and softening, becoming like a sponge. His head caves in more on the next level we push up into, and this time I catch a glimpse of something familiar, but we press on and I can’t see it anymore. Soon, it’s past and I’ve long forgotten.
Suddenly, me and Silver reach the center of the ship, which is essentially the Scrap Brain Zone, gnarled and twisted and compacted. The arcs on the ceiling now, the process where it happens in the center, but… the biggest change is the giant fucking purple-black tube thing that I land in front of. I drop Silver’s body on the floor in a crumbled heap, I wipe the clotted blood off my face, and I press myself up against the glass. I see something black, cold, and dark inside… it doesn’t move…
I check my surroundings more carefully.
I walk.
And it’s only after two steps that I realize that this is the Star Light Zone… merged with the Scrap Brain Zone.
My two nightmares… come together.
Those little pinpoints of light…
Those subjects’ minds…
I walk back to the tube and I press my face up to it.
I make a fist with my right hand.
The glass spiders in front of me when I hit it the first time, but when I hit it again a neat little indentation is made, and by the fourth time my entire hand busts through and I wrap my fingers around whatever’s inside…
Oh.
A Chaos Emerald.
Hey, look at that.
My body…
It’s… glowing.
Robotnik drops from the ceiling.
He’s much bigger than I remember him.
I wave, smiling, hoping he’ll see me so we can say hello…
And I can kill him.
His feet hit the floor from the platform he dropped from, and everything shakes and rattles. I look in my hand and the Emerald is gone, but no matter. I look back up at the giant Robotnik, I grin, I get the slightest feeling of nostalgia, and I start walking to greet him. He’s not wearing a black lab coat anymore, and his hat is gone. He has no collar to cover half of his face, and he doesn’t look like I pictured him to be. Every step I take he gets bigger and bigger, and when I’m a few feet in front of him, he’s towering, and my neck hurts from looking at his face.
“Hi,” I say.
Throughout this entire time, he hasn’t been moving. He’s been talking very slowing, but sounds very surprised. Like he doesn’t know quite what to make of everything, but what I do catch is that any minute now more things will arrive to take me down.
I shrug.
I get bored.
He talks too slow.
I bend my knees all the way till my rear end touches the ground, I shiver uncontrollably, and I spring up, rushing up so quick my armored head gets pulled down slightly, and I’m in front of his face, almost reflected but I can’t see myself because of this glowing light coming from somewhere. Up close his face looks too fake to be my creator, too metal, so I roll into a ball and spin through his eye, coming out on the other side, grinding slightly and pausing. I look back and watch the electricity finally start arcing around in the hole, missing their lost connections. The metal shards fall down to the floor and don’t hit until some time later, when I have already chosen a new target to attack, and I do. I burst through the front of his chest, blazing, and the best he can do in retaliation is swipe at me with his giant hands, and send out a barrage of missiles that look like little white eggy-orbs, zooming at me. They all seem to go right through me and I just pick another part on him to zoom through, and I do it. I look back at the damage this time, and I see a giant gaping hole, much bigger than me but strangely proportionate, no blood coming out, nothing but gnarled metal, and I’m oddly disappointed. I pick another spot and I go again. Pick, go, pick, go, pick, go. It takes eleven hits for the giant Doctor to actually move from his spot, this time upwards, trying to come crashing down on my head, but I move out of the way, and he only succeeds in hurting himself more. I shed a quiet tear, and I go through his face again, ignoring his final attack, his giant arms growing spikes and spinning out to hurt me. I can feel the metal world around me becoming less and less lively, and it’s like it’s all going down, it’s all sinking. I decide to speed everything up, so this time I go for the giant Doctor’s legs, cutting them both out from underneath him. He falls flat on his face, he doesn’t struggle, he lies motionless, but he is not dead. Someone like him can never die. For the first time since I jammed my hand into the purple-black tube do I realize that a different type of alarm is blaring, not the intruder, but the emergency. Something is wrong. Then the walls around me open up in tiny tubes, escape pods, and all in all there are about twenty, guessing that the extra were built just in case a lot of them failed or misfired. Contingency plan. I look up and I see a giant metal shield come quickly across the energy arcs on the ceiling, protecting the slaved minds, protecting the hive. This is all so fucked. I look down at myself again and I’m still glowing. I still want death and destruction to come to all who deserve it. I still want… I’m not sure what I want. This is the longest week of my life, with nothing being accomplished, it all feeling like one big waste. I keep hearing a voice calling from the fallen Eggman, so I walk back over to him and I start demanding information, about everything, about me, and he scoffs, but tells me anyway. He tells me about the Winged Fortress maybe, the Flying Battery maybe, and the Death Egg maybe, and a little bit about me, how my job was going to be Shadow’s job if I didn’t fuck myself over, all of this said very casually, like old friends would chat, his face not moving in front of me, towering high. I faintly wonder if this is really me talking to myself, or if he’s really answering all of this. I’m on a bad acid trip. Eggman then informs me that it is okay that I did this, because it gave him the chance to better himself, to better me, and to better everything he believed in. Somewhere in the distance, an escape pod misfires. There are still so many questions unanswered, so I ask him, finally, what the fuck he wants with Angel Island. He smiles, and I don’t see him do it, but I mean, I can actually feel him smile. He says something about becoming more than just a creature on a normal astral plane and wants to ascend higher than the stars. I just stand there for a second, contemplate my next answer, and then I hear the gunshot. This time, it’s real. I turn to see the blast coming at me before I move, and I’m jumping around, dodging each shot before it gets halfway to me. Danger music kicks up. I keep moving, the shots coming in succession, and the person firing at me is that bat girl from the Casino Nights Zone, and she looks super pissed at me and herself. I desperately want to tell her how sorry I am, for everything, for killing the two people in her life, probably ones that really mattered. I plan on stopping her firing and trying to calm her down, but when I land, I happen to be right near the wall, near the blown escape pod, the open air behind me, when Shadow, coming from nowhere, surprise attacks, flipping down and kicking me hard in the chest. First it’s the shock of the entire thing, and at first I think that it’s Mecha, taking revenge, but no, it’s worse than that. Before I know it she’s already got three hits on me, all doing no damage. But I can barely block all of them. Holy shit. He made her better than me. She’s still alive. He… made… her… better. A surge of anger goes through me, and I flip back wards, my foot catching her in the jaw. In mid air I get shot at, and one strikes home knocking me in the back, sending me flying towards the escape pod tube, open to the outside. Shit. Before I go flying out I grab on to a jagged piece of metal, and I look up. I see both of them, staring down at me, Shadow rubbing her jaw but smiling. She’s alive. She’s. Alive. She somehow made it. What I did to her would have surely killed me. I couldn’t kill her which means she’s much stronger, faster, and all that. Robotnik really put his time into her. He wasn’t lying when he said he made everything better, because he made her better. He… made… her… better. I stare up at Shadow, watching those big, white eyes of hers, and she grins, teeth glowing, her black and red armor shining, and she blows me a kiss. Rouge comes up next to her, points the gun at my face, and fires, and this is where I let go. The tube rushes around me, it seems, forever, lost in a falling void, until finally I reach the light. Blindness for second before it all comes into focus. On the way down to wherever, I keep my head towards the sky. I watch the falling-away Death Egg carefully, looking for something specific…
It’s crashing.
It’s crashing.
I’ve won.
Holy shit.
I’ve really won.
This is…
Then I see Tails out of the corner of my eye, and she’s crashing too. Her plane on fire, burning brightly, and she doesn’t have a chance of survival, because the land below the plane is a giant candle of brimstone. In my mind, in the theater, next to the raccoon fuck, is a charred corpse of Tails, a black tongue coming out of the side of her mouth, eyes crossed, and her arms at unnatural angles. The fuck next to her, grinning, smiling, laughing.
This is where I decide to confront the fucker.
This is where the world around me dies.
And I was so close…
**********
In a time long ago, where things were simple, then complicated, then simple, then complicated again, in the midst of it all, there was an order to things:
The gun emplacements on the island were automated, controlled by mostly a computer that could fire in succession, two blasts every three seconds, directed towards any large, slow moving object. These guns were large, bulky, towering, and buried underground. The rounds fired are basically giant, flaming, un-earthly hot mounds of un-vulcanized, pure steel.
This goes along with the popular belief that Echidnas had absolutely everything they would ever need on the island: the right balances of religion, raw materials, inhabitants, mystical artifacts, natural disasters, and technological advances. The race was very crafty, very efficient, and very intelligent. They had a natural ability to dig, high IQ’s, and the only thing that was a bad quality was a short temper, and coupled with superior agility and certain… mystical properties, the Echidnas would have been unstoppable, if they hadn’t decided to allow outsiders into their island. From there, it just fell apart from within, many of the original inhabitants leaving the corruption of the politics, migrating to other areas. It took many, many years to take back control, and in the end it took only one of them to do it, and all the others were slaughtered.
New gun emplacements were installed, the larger ones installed centuries before as a precaution by the remaining citizens. These guns were smaller, and could be moved around by able bodies. They had the right range, the right firepower, and the right everything to kill just about whatever the user wanted dead. It was ingenious. These, however, were not automated, and needed a living, breathing professional at the helm. The new leader didn’t want the entire race ruled by machines. It was a tribute to the old days, the right balance of everything.
The entire island was being reformed. New ideas were introduced, and soon the leaders’ popularity spread like wildfire. A senate controlled the populace, and the citizens made up the military. Emphasis was put on rewards for loyalty. The borders were closed off, and no one new entered for a long, long time.
An amusement park was built. It was a moderately sized one compared to the island, which was about the size of one third of a small country. Celebration as a reward.
Everything kept getting more and more secluded, and heavily guarded. More emphasis was put on security than commerce and tourism. The leader assured that it was absolutely necessary.
In the end, all that still wasn’t enough, and what happened was nothing but inevitable.
**********
Charmy blasted round after round at the Egg Carrier flying off in the distance, which was at the time firing a gigantic blast at the surface below. He grit his teeth in frustration when the carrier zoomed away at incredible speeds, unhurt, and got ready for another run. He shrugged it off and tried his best to hit everything that was raining fire, from the four different ships. The entire island was covered with a shadow, and yet was illuminated by all the gun fire that was cutting a hole in the civilization.
Espio, right next to Charmy on the top of a high knoll in Mushroom Hill, were letting loose at the ships above them, pretending they were helping out the bigger guns, which were dealing out their own fire on them. The smaller guns only made sure the small craft were taken down a little faster.
Espio pulled the goggles off of his head and looked behind him.
“Shit, man, there’s more lasers comin’ down on us than I can count. We gotta move, man.”
The hard shelled creature wrapped his arms around his gun, sat on top of a hill, and hoisted the entire thing, walking, without waiting for Charmy. “Hold on a sec. I’m still firing at these little buggers.” He pressed his eye to the sight again. Thousands of tiny black dots grew bigger as they came closer, but they were assumed to be transport drops of some kind. “You’d think they’d be easy to hit,” he let out a short barrage, resumed talking when the noise stopped, “because there’s so many of them. But no, you always seem to miss ‘em.”
“Man, I never miss.” Setting his gun down in a new, flatter spot on the hill, he sat in the chair, put the goggles back on, and adjusted his sight. “Watch this, man, this is how it’s done.” Charmy shrugged and went back to his gun, picking it up, about ready to move it, when he didn’t hear any gunfire from Espio he stopped to look.
Then he noticed it too.
One of the crafts… one that wasn’t firing as much… was catching fire, a patchwork design appearing on the outside of it.
“Did we do that?”
There was a short gap before Espio said something. “Debris.”
“Pardon?”
“Debris, man! They weren’t transport shuttles, man, it was debris!”
Small, silent black dots started to fly away from the Battery as it caught fire even more, and it was steadily losing altitude.
“Escape pods.”
“Shit. What in the fuckin’ hell did that?!”
In last instance of the airborne craft’s life, the faint, fading sounds of alarms could be heard. They both flinched when the entire craft exploded.
“Holy shit!”
Almost immediately afterwards, as the flaming metal rained down and the pods scattered all around the forest, Espio and Charmy got back in the guns and started to pick them all off one by one. The larger guns still fired at the ships, but stopped when an explosion rocked the island.
“What the fuck was that?!”
“Not too sure, I’m afraid, but I think, maybe, the guns have been taken out.”
The next few minutes, there was a hushed silence, because the guns above had stopped too, and the sky was quiet save for a small humming, and again, the faint sound of alarms. The Death Egg, the giant, hovering mass, loomed forward slightly, but that was all.
“Watch it, man, watch that one,” Espio said, pointing at the Winged Fortress.
Instead, the biggest one, the Death Egg, let out one giant shudder, and it started to move lower, losing altitude, small, scattered fires erupting on the outside, concentrated in one big area.
This all took a few seconds to register.
Then:
“FUCK!”
**********
The island has no “zones” per say, just separate areas with varying climates that, normally, would be impossible under normal circumstances. This only reinforced the populations belief in other-worldly beings, since in no other place did such conditions exist.
This meant that they were special.
This meant that they were unique.
This means that they are cocky.
Commerce would have boomed if the island were open to tourists, but it wasn’t. All incoming craft that tried to board were given a warning signal, then turned away. The would-be citizens barely even got a single glimpse of what the island had.
However, there were some isolated incidents, where refugees from different parts would try to escape to the island from pursuit of their oppressors (or the law), and the defenses “accidentally” let the visitor pass through, sending a message to the pursuers that the plane was shot down after repeated warnings gone unheeded.
The runaways are made productive members of society, and, in a lot of cases, become top members in the leader’s crew. Somehow, they were the ones that could be trusted the most. Ask for asylum and it’s that simple.
**********
Mighty, who was in Twinkle Park calming the public at the time the first explosion, used the downed Flying Battery as an example of why everyone should stay calm. But when the Death Egg started to crash and burn, his entire speech failed to instill calm and order.
**********
A requirement of staying was to believe 100% unconditionally in the deities who made the island. This is the only point where all scientific explanations were regarded as second truth. Even if someone did come up with an explanation for all that had happened, nobody would care enough to listen.
In fact, by all accounts, the religion is true. Every explanation given by the ancient doctrines can support itself with the island phenomena. There are no rituals. There was only belief.
The race, the Echidnas, however, had secrets. Certain ways of doing things. Cheating, if you will. They had chants, spells, contests of faith, and the like. Ever since the lot of them left the island, though, such things are all but forgotten by everyone else.
Only a scattered few still practiced such activities.
**********
Vector didn’t hear the explosion because of the music, but he sure as fuck saw the Battery come crashing down, because it landed about twenty feet in front of him.
He would never admit it later, but he let out a giant, high pitched scream, just before he took off running for the meeting spot to warn everyone.
He didn’t see the escape pods until it was too late.
**********
The merging of scientific and mystical substances is quite common, since everything seems to thrive on flourish on both.
First, the Master Emerald:
Mythical, and yet it most assuredly exists. It is, according to legend and the like, responsible for giving the island the ability to float, and possibly, everything else that comes to question on the island. It is called the Master Emerald, because it is basically a father to the others, spawned from this considerably larger material. The mysteries surrounding them are far more abundant than the amount of power generated by all of them.
Second, the Chaos Emeralds:
Black, Gray, Yellow, Blue, Green, Red, and Orange. Again, according to legend, if any being is in possession of all seven, and then puts himself in close proximity of the Master Emerald, the being is granted a single dream. Whatever is wanted.
Third, the Echidnas:
Before it all fell, the empire was very protective of tradition and anything deemed dangerous to those who couldn’t handle it. The dream factor was a problem that had to be controlled, so it was said that only a few were allowed near then, few to be trusted. This meant only a pure race, this meant only Echidnas. The Seven Emeralds were put below, underground, instead of above ground where they were, and they were put in the Great Palace. A series of clues, tests, and riddles were set up, to try and confuse any hunters that wanted to get to them. Each Emerald had its own test, each about equal in difficulty, testing the different parts of the mind and body.
Controlling the rumors proved to be more difficult. They could not quench the fire of legends, so instead, the Elders embellished them, inserting bullshit into fact. A lot of the underground tests were made to seem like they couldn’t be passed, and instead there was some sort of short cut, a back door that only the race new about. Fewer and fewer beings tried to enter as a result.
Other precautions were taken in addition to the tests. Guardians. The trusted few who were allowed to enter also trained others, keepers of the underground were set to guard and turn away, possibly punish and kill anyone who tried to enter the last door to the arena.
This was, of course, all set far into the core of the island. Tunnels upon tunnels were dug, some of them leading to the outside, some of them to the bottom where they fell to the planet below, but only one leading to the right place. The Elders knew it, the Guardians knew it, and for awhile, it all worked out for the best.
As always happens, nothing lasts. Everything dies and unfortunately, beings of lesser quality come to take the place of the ones long gone, ravaged by time.
Fourth, Tikal:
A Guardian that got way too curious. One that slipped through the cracks of the system. The rumors of the island got to her, and, bringing a bad name to all Guardians, took the tests, got the Seven Emeralds, and tried to get to the Master Emerald in the final room.
But there was one test the Elders never leaked. One final Guardian that no one was told about. It was not an Echidna, but something much worse.
In the end, it was a brilliant fight, and all the creatures were almost killed and skinned and all that, but Tikal could not take the final test alone, and suffered the ultimate price.
Five, Chaos:
Closely connected to the Master Emerald, this Guardian merges with whoever has unauthorized access to the final chamber, and was controlled by the Elders. When it was merged with Tikal, however…
Six, Time:
Time means change. Soon, nothing was the same. Including the Master Emerald. The Elders knew something was different about it after the incident. It no longer carried the same mystical energy it once had…
‘Shut up with this shit.’
**********
Bean set the last charge in the forest when the Death Egg crashed into Angel Island, knocking him flat on the ground along with everything else that wasn’t tied down. This did not frighten him, but only excited him even for, his apparent quickness going even further.
He dived behind a bush and waited.
**********
Lumina Flowlight, still all-but passed out on the couch, only thought that the shaky island was signifying Void’s return, and so she started screaming.
**********
Fang watched Vector from a nearby tree, high up above the ground, his eyes following the gator’s exit, but the weasel did not follow this time. Instead, he un-slung his rifle and kept his sights on the escape pods slowly falling to the ground. He waited for the first ‘bots to show their faces.
**********
Bark also waited, hidden behind a large bush, and picked the closest escape pod, focusing all of his anger and striking.
**********
Knuckles set up the underground tests, left the Hidden Palace, and when he came to the surface he was knocked to his feet by the Death Egg crashing.
Immediately, he was back on his feet and searching for where it had landed, his eyes blinded by the sun.
**********
I can’t stop it. I know too much.
‘Shit right you do. You haven’t shut up for the past ten minutes.’
It’s my choice.
‘Is it?’
Yes. Man, how I wish you were gone.
‘Yeah, well, you’re too late. I’m still here and you’ll have to deal with me for the next few minutes.’
I can block you out. You’re just a voice.
‘Wrong wrong wrong, sonny boy. I’m so much more than that.’
If I can think it, I can live it. In this theater, I am the only one. I control you, not the other way around. You’re not even here. You’re merely a shadow of a shadow. You’re trapped and I’m free.
‘Is that what you’re calling it? Good luck working that out.’
Shut up, I’m trying to watch the movie.
**********
No matter what I did, he just stared blankly at me. Tails slumped in his seat next to him, on the other side, out of my sight. I turned back to the black screen, and I didn’t blink the rest of the time.
**********
Ext. The meeting place. The first to arrive are Vector, then Knuckles, Mighty, Espio and Charmy. Fires rage in the background, and citizens try to put them out.
Production notes: This scene will be comprised of mostly composite shots, acquired by having the actors stand in front of a blue screen, covering all 360 degrees (see camera notes). A wind machine off to the side. Possibly a fire going off frame to get light and shadow reflections correct.
Knuckles - What the fuck happened?! (gesturing wildly)
Vector - (nodding, scared) This giant fuckin’ thing fell down in front of me!
Knuckles - Why aren’t you dead, then?
Vector - (nodding) What?
Knuckles grabs Vector by the shoulders and points off in the distance, at the Lava Reef.
Knuckles - (yelling in his face now) THAT thing landed in front of you?!
Vector - (short pause, followed by noise of surprise) Fucking shit!
Charmy - (stepping up) Look sir, we didn’t take out the craft. Someone else did.
A pause.
Knuckles - What the fuck do you mean, ‘someone else’?
Espio - The ship exploded right in front of us, man. It all came crashing down.
Knuckles - And you didn’t do it?
Espio and Charmy shake their heads. Knuckles contemplates this all for a quick second.
Notes to the camera: TRUCK constantly. Several takes of this scene will take the place of cuts to faces. We’ll begin on different points of the dialogue. Make sure the off-screen crew wears protective clothing.
Knuckles - We need to get everyone on track again. First thing’s fucking first, we gotta get rid of all these ‘bots around. I assume the others are already taking care of them, so watch out. And you know who I mean, specifically.
Everyone nods with Vector.
Mighty - The public is calm. A few have volunteered for surface action, but the remaining are all down in the shelters.
Knuckles - Fine. (tightens gloves) You’re coming with me. Leave your guns. We’re gonna clean this place up a little. Be ready for anything.
Knuckles turns to Vector.
Knuckles - Now, (gently pulling down the headphones) what crashed in front of you?
Notes to entire crew: Shooting is to begin at 11:00. Make-up for those who need it begins at 07:00. The catering truck will open at 12:00, and breaks from filming depend entirely on the quality of the takes, and how well everything goes. The day is scheduled to end at 17:00.
**********
The light starts to creep in, slowly, cracked, the top and bottom of the darkness edging away. Eventually, the dam breaks, it all floods in, and I have a headache and I don’t know how long I’ve been out.
This is the first time I’ve looked up, I mean, really looked up in the clouds, at the sun, but I don’t have time enjoy it. I don’t have time to think about everything, to reflect, to contemplate, any of that old shit. Instead, I concentrate on how bad I feel.
Eyes still adjusting, I can’t check myself yet, and everything is going so slow. I try to move my arms up to massage my burning chest, but something is blocking me, so I just give up, choosing the path to self pity.
My God.
I fucked up. I fucked up badly. Tails is dead, the island is ravaged, and I don’t know if I have enough strength to get up. Images flash in my mind of Tails, sitting at the controls, Tails on fire, eyes burning over to dark boils, cooked flesh and fur falling off of her, her shouting “Mayday, Mayday, going down!” to no one in particular, but probably meant for me. It’s all ridiculous but not improbable, in fact, likely. This makes me feel worse, my thoughts winding down. My body obeys my minds commands and immediately conforms. It feels like someone’s sitting on top of me, holding me down while I’m getting over an alcoholic binge from the previous night. It’s time like this I wish the grass would just let me sink into it, and disappear from all of this…
Someone’s punching me in the face.
Suddenly, the light sharpens, everyone rolls into focus, and the first thing I see is this angry red dread-locked fucker, straddling my chest, knees pinning down my arms, knocking my teeth with his right gloved fist, over and over again. He has this stupid looking hat on his head, full of fangs. The skin around his legs feel like tough leather.
His other hand is buried in my chest and he’s pulling out the red emerald. “It’s been so long, I’ve forgotten the way they feel…”
“What the fuck-” I say in between teeth knocks and someone kicking me in my temple. This must look awkward as hell.
Someone off to my left says: “Wait, boss, what if he’s on the level? Like one of those, um, you know, subject types.”
“Fuckin’ right, like last time, right? A refugee comes in with an offer and immediately we lie down and obey it like some fucking Echidna elder?”
“This one’s tits aren’t as nice,” someone else says, gets smacked by someone else.
The red guy is stung, but he continues on, pulling the last emerald out and looking at it. My armored plastic flesh goes back into place like nothing happened.
“What kind of fuckin’ test animal has possession of these, exactly?” He eyes them like they’re super important, and he puts it somewhere I can’t see.
“So… what now, Knux?”
There is a moment of pause. I can faintly hear fire burning and music playing somewhere close. “I say we toss him off the island, man, and we fire on his body after he hits the ground.”
Uh oh.
“Wait, guys,” I hear myself saying.
“Oh lookeee, the rodent speaks,” Knux says, leaning closer. “I’m glad we at least have a halfway intelligent little shit. It makes the prospect of killing you so much more thrilling.”
This guy in a bee costume comes in and leans close to me. “I’m afraid you’re too late for negotiation, my petty little chum.” Then the ugliest guy I’ve ever seen in my life comes down and leans in too. Between the three of them and the music playing, they all exchange blows, taunting me.
“Too late, TOO LATE!” Pointing his finger in my face.
“You done fucked up, son. You cannot expect to talk you way out of this…”
“Yeah!”
“… I mean, you think that we’re just going to let you go after you fuck up our island…”
“Our island!”
“… not to mention stealing the Chaos Emeralds…”
“The fucking Emeralds, man!”
“… Do you think we’re dumb asses or something? Do you think like we’re some fucking lab rat test animals?”
“That’s an insult, man!”
“We don’t like insults.”
“We don’t like insults, I’m afraid.”
“You FUCKED up, man!”
“You fucked up. And what do we do with fuck-ups?”
“WE fuck THEM up.”
“Correct.”
“We tumble them in a maze of spikes, man.”
“And that’s only a metaphor.”
“You don’t fuck with us.”
“You DO NOT fuck with us! You don’t wanna be our enemies, and you can only be our friends if we let you.”
“If we LET YOU!”
“Is he paying attention, boys?”
“I don’t know. Maybe we should grab his attention, then.”
“Hey, are we borin’ you? Are we not entertaining?”
“He’s a fuckin’ hard cunt, I’ll give him that. He ain’t bleedin’ yet.”
“What the fuck’s wrong with his skin? It’s like fuckin’ plastic or somethin…”
“His eyes, man, look at ‘em… creepin’ me out…”
My vision is starting to fade again. I wonder if I’m passing out…
The side of my face gets hit again by sharp knuckles, and I can feel the fluid start to pour out. There is a slight cheering.
“Got him! Look at it flowwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww,” his voice blurs into obscurity.
And what is so familiar to me comes soon. The loosening, the blurring, the tubes pulling out of their sockets. The red guy, Knux, becomes a red blob mixed in with the fires. He’s no longer a living creature, and I become no longer sure if he ever was. It’s sad, really. I lose a part of myself every time. The theater becomes more and more clear, and the raccoon inside looks more and more like me. Tails, the seats, Robotnik, the movie, all of it comes together, and I’m in the center.
I hate it. I hate all of it.
I hate the fact that I can’t go super anymore.
I hate the ones who took it from me.
And I hate the fact that the guy on top of me isn’t worthy of a good fight, because he left a space open for my arm to come loose. It comes up so fast that for a second I think that I’m able to function at full speed without the Emeralds.
But no. I hit him, and even through the glove I feel the pain of impact.
Echidnas… their skin is like tough rubber, or plastic. I hit him full swing and I might have broken my fist again, but at least he reels back from the blow, his face’s right side burning. My legs become free and I pull them back, like springs. I release, connecting with his body, sending him flying.
Now, the others. They are barely reacting to my first blow, and by the time Knux hits the ground, I kick the Croc in the face, and I’m on my feet. In the background, a hard rock song plays.
What the fuck? What kind of creatures are these?
Next, next, and next. Three more to go, about ten seconds max before another gets up.
Since reaction time is only now beginning, the first one to try and hit me is this big, towering, bulky fucker. Of course, he goes for a right cross and I easily dodge it, kicking at his back. A tough shell. FUCK! Hurts worse than Echidna skin.
Instead of running around, I go under his legs and rocket straight up, fists raised. I catch him in the chin, snapping his head up. From the resounding crack, I deduce that he’s out for the count.
In the air, I turn right side up. Coming straight at me, quicker than I would have given him credit for, is a bee that’s two-hundred times it’s size. It’s not a suit. This world is freaking me out.
I let him ram into me, letting him think he’s doing something. Two feet later, I’m out of his grasp and on his back, steering him towards the ground. He only has a second to thrash around, trying to steer himself up or knock me off, before the ground hits his face and he’s out too. I come up, rolling, and in a stance I look left to right.
No one.
The last is gone.
Must have hightailed it-
CRACK
I actually hear the sound of my face split before I feel it, and I’m so surprised that I swing wildly, only to be jabbed in the side and pushed back. I feel something sharp pull out of me.
Holding my now-bleeding side, I just stand there, looking around.
Nothing.
He’s got a cloak or something. Tricky bastard.
I just stand there, feigning panic, looking left and right, quick, but not too quick. I take two steps back. I concentrate.
I wait for it.
Wait for it…
Wait…
The little bastard’s horn goes into me two inches before I grab it and twist, breaking it off. I feel moisture hit my face, and suddenly there’s someone in front of me, screaming, bleeding, eyes rolling back into his head. He collapses in a heap and thrashes, twitches. I drop the horn and check myself.
Not too bad. Indentations, mild bleeding, face opened a little.
It’s been eleven seconds.
SHIT!
I turn around to see the Croc, holding his face, still wearing headphones, song over, and he takes a step back.
I look over where Knux landed, and I see him running into the woods. Fast.
I leave the devastation. I run after him.
Chase music starts.
**********
Sera had finished crying when they got back, but soon she started up again when she was informed that they were crashing.
Everyone seemed to make it out okay, though. A lot of ‘bots were damaged, and vital systems needed to be repaired, but other than that, the invasion could commence.
Sitting in the docking quarter, door to the outside, Rouge felt a pang of jealousy. This would have never happened if she only stuck to the mission the first time. Now, all of this was needed to get what they were after.
Her fault.
All because of…
Sera, holding Rouge’s right hand, awaiting the world, said, “Mommy, I’m scared.”
To the left, Shadow, arms crossed, smirking. The bat girl could tell that she was overconfident in her abilities. Too much so. In fact, something needed being said.
“Hey. I know what you’re thinking. In fact, I know what you’re planning. More so, I know what’s going to happen to you.”
Shadow stared back with blank eyes, the smile faded into a tight-lipped expression contrasted in black and red.
“You’ll win. You’ll win like you always do. You’ll greedily accept whatever mission he gives you, no matter the challenge, no matter the inexperience within you, because you’ll want him to see how much better you are than he is. You’ll want to impress him. So, you’ll gather no supplies, no weapons, no back up of any kind. Just a shuttle and a communicator. You’ll be overconfident. You’ll carry out everything as planned; faking the refugee thing, acting ignorant, pretending to be scared and alone. You’ll be sexually suggestive to the leader of the island. You’ll make him love you. And as time goes on, as you find out more and more things… you’ll begin to love him too.”
The room had gone unbearably quiet. Even the hum of the elevator faded.
“The first time the two of you fuck… make love… it will last for days. His race is aggressive, enduring. It’ll be magnificent. Since it’ll be your first time, you’ll just want to do it again and again. Nothing else matters with him. Soon, the job is banished and forgotten. Everything that was so carefully constructed and planned for will go to waste. For months you will be out of contact, eating, fucking, living your life day by day, loving the feeling of being free.”
No one was breathing.
“And then, the day will come when it all floods back into you. You find your communicator that you so carefully tried to hide from him, and maybe you’ll remember the mission. You’ll break his trust. You’ll break his heart and you’ll go underground, you’ll work your way to the Emerald chamber, because he was stupid enough to show you inside, through a back door, and fuck you right there. You’ll take one look at the Master Emerald… and you’ll think of his face, smiling, happy, then you’ll watched morph and fall into a frown. You’ll pause and reflect on your time together… you’ll remember the previous night when he asked you if you loved him… how you didn’t answer and just pretended to be asleep… you’ll think of all this… and you know what?”
Blink.
“You’ll do it anyway.”
Ground level was reached. The door waited to be opened. Nobody made a move to do so.
“It’s funny how it will work out, too. After you grab all of the Chaos Emeralds, just as you are about to grab the Master Emerald, you realize that the face you were imagining was real, and Knuckles is crying his eyes out. He doesn’t make a move to stop you, but he stands in front of the Master Emerald, blocking your way. You left… You’ll leave. You’ll be picked up by the Doctor, by him. You’ll be furious. Now… this is what I know will happen. You’ll still be overconfident despite the halfway failed mission, and this time, anger will fuel you. You’ll pick a fight. You’ll hit him in the face, and you’ll think you’re gonna win… but you won’t. He’ll beat the shit out of you. He’ll tear off a limb or two. He’ll show no mercy. None. Even when you’re lying on the ground, bleeding… he’ll… he fucks you. He does it for ten minutes.”
The door still doesn’t open.
“As time passes, you’ll gain weight, put on pounds. You’ll call it stress. You’ll get a new rack. You’ll learn new tricks. You’ll lose all that you have: love, fear, surprise, envy. In the end, you’ll lose all you have, except hope. And in the following years you learn to cope with your new daughter, but you have to genetically alter her appearance, out of fear that he’ll kill her if he found out who she really was. You put all of your hopes and dreams into this little girl. She is the world to you, and you’ll do anything to protect her.”
Her hand fell on the handle.
“My point is that you can’t win against him… so don’t even try.”
The hot wind rushing in drowned out any reply that Shadow might have given.
**********
‘Imagine a forest made of dull colors, yet so vibrant. Imagine an entirely new world, full of uncertain corners and twists and turns, full of a thousand new things to learn. Imagine all of this being invaded by elements of a world you left behind, a world you hated. These elements pop out of nowhere: from the sky, from the ground, from a fire, from your mind. They come in from all sides. They are taking over your escape.’
I don’t need to imagine it.
Knux, man, could he run. He wasn’t even using the Emeralds to escape, either. He figured himself a winner.
Me, I did my best to keep up. Whenever I came close enough to grab him, though, he backhand me, slowing me down, and I’d have to catch up again.
Take into account how fucked up I am.
‘Stop using that as an excuse.’
What?
‘You say it like it’s a reason for yourself, like it’s as much a part of you as, say, your right hand. Or your chest.’
Fuck you. Aren’t you supposed to be dead, anyway?
‘Yeah, but you see, you won’t let me die.’
Whatever. The point is that sooner or later, I cracked.
“You sure?”
I love you, Sonic.
NO! I’m not ready yet!
“You can’t slow down your thoughts, Sonic. They come as they are.”
Fuck that! I don’t want this.
“Why are you recounting all of this, anyway? You’re talking to yourself.”
I want to look outside.
“As if that would make anything better.”
… It might.
“… So, so overconfident. Okay, then, get ready for THIS!”
**********
“This was all inevitable. You know that, right? There was no stopping it.”
“I know.”
“The fact that it’s mutual is a technicality.”
“Right. So… what are we going to do about it?”
“I’m not sure.”
“What everyone else does?”
I was silent.
Tails leaned closer to me. “What you’ve done?”
“I don’t know. I don’t have all of the answers.”
“That’s a cop-out. Come on, tell me, why won’t you just let things happen?”
“Why should I?”
“Because, deep down, you really want to.”
“I… I’m scared.”
“You-”
“I’m scared of the future. I’m scared of what will happen if I let go. I feel like I’m the only nail, you know? The only thing holding the world together…”
“So this means you can’t love me?”
NO!
**********
The ‘bots follow the standard procedure when stranded, and they just nuke the entire area that they’re in. Because of the weak signal from the Scrap Brain Zone, the controls are conflicted, wild, and jerky. The flames shoot out in all directions, having no regard for fellow ‘bots safety, or their own.
The island becomes hell. The sun in the sky is practically blocked out by all the smoke. Every few feet there is a ‘bot attacking the area around it. It burns.
It all dies.
Somewhere behind me, we ran past the Flying Battery. It’s insides exposed like a surgeon exposes organs for an autopsy. Backup ‘bots surged outward like blood. In the fleeting glimpse I catch what the fucking thing is for.
Robotosization equipment. Right as it hits me, some sort of dormant rage awakens inside of me. If I would have destroyed it, Robotnik would be sunk. He still has a sporting chance. Unintentional fair play bullshit that I let slide.
Bad memories. I push them all away. I sweep them into the corner, where they fester and decay. Soon… soon, they will return.
I don’t know how far we run before I finally tackle the bastard. We go tumbling down this incline into an area I have never seen before, though slightly recognizable. It seems to border numerous other climate zones, other areas. At least three, made of different textures.
The area on fire that I left.
A dull colored ‘shroom field, on an incline from the hill I am on.
And the forest… accentuated with… marble. Shit.
We both come up from the ground, staring at each other, and I grin. He only glares.
Knux is only trying to protect what is his. I can’t blame the guy for trying to find lost parts of himself, especially when, around him, everything is falling apart.
And I’m not helping.
Instead, we fight.
Your typical bullshit.
He dives at me, fists forward, and I try to grab his arms but I end up blocking him entirely, hands clasped over his. As we fly backwards, his sharp knuckles digging into my palms, I try to pull off his gloves, thinking they’re only a handicap in fight or something, but then find out that the discolored, white wrists and hands are pure bone. The only part not covered by a tough red hide.
We land, I’m on my back, he’s pinning me, and he leans down and knocks me with his head, hard, but he cries out and falls backwards. He hurt himself. Stupid bastard.
Rolling over, I grab him by his throat, one hand, and I choke, snarling. I get a good grip and aim for his eye with my thumb, bringing my hand down on him.
His legs come up into my chest and I go flying. When I land I can’t see, for some reason.
He is probably rubbing his eye.
It’s entirely possible he is walking over to my form.
It is more than likely that he grabs my head and slams it into the corner of the burning Marble. Each time I come down I manage to move from my eyes to my upper forehead, somehow hit in the same place each time.
I’m blind because my eyes are scorched by the fire.
Something was…
What…
I can’t hear anymore either.
Even the sound effect of my head was reduced to a slight vibration.
After awhile, I stop moving.
“This was all inevitable. You know that, right? There was no stopping it.”
“I know.”
“The fact that it’s mutual is a technicality.”
“Right. So… what are we going to do about it?”
“I’m not sure.”
“What everyone else does?”
I was silent.
Tails leaned closer to me. “What you’ve done?”
“I don’t know. I don’t have all of the answers.”
“That’s a cop-out. Come on, tell me, why won’t you just let things happen?”
“Why should I?”
“Because, deep down, you really want to.”
“I… I’m scared.”
“You…”
“I’m scared of the future. I’m scared of what will happen if I let go. I feel like I’m the only nail, you know? The only thing holding the world together…”
“So this means you can’t love me?”
“No.”
She was starting to sob. “Why not?!” Getting hysterical.
“It’s… not right. I’m… I’m so sorry Tails.”
And then she killed me by drownin
g me in the Oil Ocean
Zon
E t h e n s he cat c h e s fire
What?
Finally I move, but I’m swinging wildly in his direction. I can hear him laugh as he dodges, and a right cross catches my face. Then a knee to my chest.
I get hit again.
Then again.
I try to block out each one as best as I can.
Then I’m on the ground, panting. He makes a sound like “that’s all you got?” and kicks me in the ribs. I lie down lower.
The grass
is
real.
But I hate the way it feels.
The rumbling started long ago, and only at this point did I act. Since I still couldn’t see, I was blindly attacking every sound. I thought I heard him step over here, walk over here, roll over here, but I end up hitting trees on fire, splitting their surfaces.
I’m busting myself up again. In addition to the broken knuckles and the holes in my face, I must look pretty attractive.
I must have been doing something right, because I wasn’t getting hit. I may have been moving too fast for him. Maybe I was getting the upper hand again. It’s possible that I’ll hit him again, and maybe I was winning. Finally.
Suddenly, I hear the sound of rustling leaves and a button or a lever being pressed, and before I can run towards it, wind rushes from below, so powerful and fast that it lifts me off my feet. I fly up and I grab onto I tree branch or something that I ram into. I cannot hold on for long, so I just solemnly wave. Only now does it come to me…
This didn’t have to happen. I could have explained. We could have been allies. We could have worked together, and maybe, with his help, I could have beaten the Doctor. Avenged Tails’ death. But I was too proud.
Before I fly away, I realize that I’m not blind, but I’m closing my eyes. When I open them again, the light corners and forces its way inside.
And it hurts.
The world outside is too familiar. It’s too much like the old one. Nothing but pain. Nothing but death. I want out. There is nothing here.
I float away, hopefully, far from here. Far from anywhere.
**********
“This is getting ridiculous.”
It was hot inside the volcano, but luckily, Robotnik had enough labor to construct a sort of heat shield around the open pockets. Production and repair soon followed, and later, defense. Then, hopefully, offense.
Outside the pink distortion of the heat shield, the horizon waved in vertical lines, signifying intense temperature. The two scientists were on the top level of a makeshift platform building. Three levels, all under construction, served as bays for ‘bot transportation. It was the best possible way to repair the outside.
“Some of the ‘bots cannot make it down to the lower levels because of the heat, so I suggest we increase the heat shield around the entire perimeter, but if we aren’t careful, like, for instance, leaving exhaust vents around the levels we’re on, are asses are cannon fodder. We’ll shoot out of the sky like a fucking meteor. Let’s just hope to got this bitch doesn’t erupt.” He consulted the notes once more. “We were lucky, sir. We’re wedged in tight around the edges of this bird. We’re scraping it. If we work fast, get the crews in the critical parts, we should stall long enough to die tomorrow.”
“I just love your optimism.”
“As for offense, that is just out of the question, for now, unless you want to send out your little pets for reconnaissance. Defense is the best offense we have right now, and I suggest that before we lose our heads on throwing everything in one basket.”
“You opinion is noted.”
“Look, sir, we won’t have enough power to run all of what is planned. Between the heat shield and the repairs, we’re locked under a tight nail. We lost half of our forces on the landing, most of which that SON OF A FUCKING BITCH creation of yours took out!” Obviously, Snively was furious.
“Yes yes, I see the irony, Snively. Move on, will you?”
“I think you’re thinking of poetic justice, sir,” turning back to his readouts.
“Whatever.”
“NICOLE reports that, at this rate, we won’t have enough power to last the night.” His eyes raised to the sun, high in the sky, burning, then went back down. “And, sir, the only solution I can think of is to find more subjects. Add them to the stream.”
“But…” Anticipating bad news. “We can’t.”
“No. The Flying Battery was shot down, I’m afraid. And NICOLE is having trouble finding its position.”
Robotnik sighed deeply, pulling his black lab trench coat around tighter. The heat did not seem to bother him. In fact, he seemed to feed off of it.
“Well . . . we’ll have to send a repair team out then.”
“Sir, were you even listening? And I’m sure you meant a retrieval team-”
“You heard what I said,” walking away.
“SIR! We’re dangerously low on resources!”
“Power? We’ll make more.”
“But manpower-”
“We can recruit. And we’ll use any able bodies we currently have in our possession.” He eyed Snively carefully.
“But-”
“Shut up.”
As the Doctor walked away, Snively stared after him, stopping, hesitating, then caught up to him again.
“Sir, there’s something else…”
Concerned, Eggman stopped in his tracks. “Yes?”
“When Silver died… I felt this… change.”
“Change?”
“Yeah. It’s almost like, I felt… great. Excellent, in fact. Better than anything. And I couldn’t move, sir.”
“Hmmm. Are you worried?”
“A little.”
“It’s understandable. Alright, if you want, I’ll look into it.”
At that point, Robotnik left Snively standing there, walking back into his fortress. The man left behind put his mind to the task at hand.
And then he was gone.
**********
It didn’t take Knuckles long to run back to where his friends were lying, since he had the power of the Emeralds at his fingertips, but the broken and bruised Chaotix were already picking themselves off the ground.
Jumping over a bush, the Echidna came into the center of them, assessing the damage to his friends, his island, and himself.
“You guys alright?”
They all glared, but Vector, headphones off, screamed. “NO! Are you a retard?! I hope you killed that little shit.”
“Jeez, calm down, boy.”
“Don’t mind him, boss,” Mighty said, picking himself up, lumbering, swaying, keeping his jaw tight. His words come out in clenched sentences. “He gets all uppity when he ain’t got no music to listen to.”
“Damn right I do.”
Charmy came next, eyes dull and voice slurred. A concussion. “Espio is hurt bad. He’s bleedin’ out of twenty fuckin’ holes. We gotta get him to base.”
“Shit. I’m sorry guys. I wanted to get him away from here.”
A beat. “What?! You didn’t kill him?!”
“I sent him out to Sandopolis. That’s almost as bad.”
“But… why didn’t you pull out your fuckin’ bad-ass Emerald Hyper Knuckles beat down?” Soft laughter from everyone.
“Now, you know that’s against the rules. Even in extenuating circumstances I cannot wield the power of the Gods.”
“What, is that directly quoted or something? I still think you should’ve killed him…”
Knuckles somberly looked at all that used to be normal and routine. All that he took for granted. Somewhere out of his sight he knew that Espio was bleeding to death, that most of the island was in flames, that all of the citizens were close together and afraid, that the others were probably fighting a battle they could never win. That somewhere a leader, a devastator, a power-hungry conqueror, was wounded and down, but would soon be back up to continue what he had started.
Injured. The point was that someone had taken down the enemy from the inside, and above everything else, Knuckles knew that the person responsible was not the person he wanted it to be.
“Besides… he ain’t in on it.”
He then presented the plan to them, taking advantage of their shocked silence.
***********
The world used to be full of plans, designed to ease the pain of loss. At least they could tell themselves afterwards, when they failed, that at least they tried their bests.
But in reality, it’s all one big design. More of a building. From the beginning it is decided how high it will be.
Listen to me.
What is done early on decides if you make it or not. It’s a construction of a monument. The foundation is the major factor that determines how high it can go, how much stress the entire structure can take. In other words, how many times you can fuck up. So it went, swaying, toppling, and eventually, crashing in on itself.
I know all of it. I know the what, the how, and the why.
Marble Garden.
It’s all the same.
Mushroom Hill.
It’s all shit.
Carnival Nights.
It’s all useless.
Lava Reef.
It’s all insignificant.
Twinkle Park.
“Take a fucking look! The world isn’t burning…”
It’s all fucked.
“… It’s burnt.”
Casinopolis.
It’s all déjà vu.
It’s all smiling.
It’s all dying.
Death Egg.
Robotnik.
It’s all dead.
Why Knuckles did what he did is no mystery to me, but I choose to ignore the reasons and instead focus on the actions themselves.
Never mind.
Forget it.
I give up.
“That’s a good boy.”
**********
Mindless. Blind. Ignorant, with no hope of epiphany. Call them whatever, but include ruthless and perfect in the same sentence.
Rouge, Sera, and Shadow walked with the recovery team, situated in the center, using the unnatural reeds of metal around them as cover, from any outside offenses. Of course, the three conscious soldiers knew that an attack was inevitable. It was only a matter of time, distance, and stupidity. The only three deciding factors of every single fuck-up in history.
The adjustment to the air and the environment was quick. No big deal at all. The doctor had made his world so similar to the outside, and in some respects, was a lot better than the outside they were now in. The air was too acrid. Too… acidic. The temperature was uncomfortable, and the grass and dirt had a rough, irritating feel to it.
Let’s see.
The thoughts of a being are important, at least… probably. Not really relevant, but important. Need to know, but not really.
So.
… Sera’s mind was a locomotive, heading towards a dead-end, accelerating towards a dark abyss of which there was no other side to. The death of Amy kept on flashing in front of her, the blood so real even in the reenactment. The event was over, but not for her. Slowly, she could feel herself losing control. A couple of times she even thought she saw her, the small, dirty, impossibly pink ball staring at her, just floating, not off in the distance but on top of her eye, so there was no turning away. Faster, faster, further… further…
… Shadow’s mind was also in turmoil, churning and twisting over an idea that she thought she had, but that fucking cunt Rouge had knocked it down. Deep inside, she didn’t admire her creator as much as before, especially after the other creation showed up. There, the flame dwindled and flamed for another candle. Such bravery. Such boldness. Such… of course she was going to kill him. Them both…
… Stone. Dense. Rouge learned long ago that caring about things only led to pain, when it was taken away. So suddenly it would always be, and a little part of her died every time it happened, until there was nothing left to be killed. Now, when shit happened, there was no pain. That well had dried up long ago, baking in the sun, a part of a vast desert. Now, only anger came. Anything foreign was scorched beyond repair. Mostly. Rouge had found her fountain of youth. She had found a way to survive it all. The trick is not to care about anything. It’s much easier to cut off a bleeding hand rather than fix it. It’s okay not to worry about it. It would have never been as good again. Yes, yes, it’s all clear. And this… this was what Rouge… this was what Sera… and this was what Shadow, what they all were thinking when the shooting started.
Then it was easy.
********** “How do you know all of this?”
It’s a bad thing to wake up to your face being burned off, much less see a fucking ghost right in front of you. Even worse, to realize that your cynical remarks were in error.
I’m a believer. Not that it matters, but still, it’s somewhat comforting to learn new things. But seriously, come on! Ghosts?!
Nevertheless, I wake up to myself reflected in a transparent surface that moves in fluidic, amoeba-like gestures. There are at least twenty of them around me that I can see, but when I move out of the group, more appear, seemingly coming out of the lines and lines of heat inked on the horizon. The species is mixed between humans and Echidnas, and I’m sure that they’ll tell me how they died, but it never comes, and I’m left to wonder why the fuck humans are on the island in the first place.
I rub the sand out of my eyes and decide to forget where I’ve come from and instead focus on my goals, desperately grabbing, clawing, grasping at the present and future, escaping the past. Escaping the pain.
In my haste, I had forgotten to make a point to remember what I had come to do.
Step one: … Fuck.
First priority: I have no clue.
“Pretty shapes!”
I wander aimlessly around the sweltering desert for a few moments. I cannot get a solid bearing because it’s a floating island and the ground keeps moving under my feet. I soon give up and keep as low to the ground as possible, handfuls of sand in my hands.
Finally, after the ghosts stop laughing and realize that this is just a pathetic scene, they help me remember only what I want to. Just enough for me to finish.
These entities… they all look familiar. Maybe beings that I have met, or will meet, or dreamed about, or killed. Or maybe they’re all moving mirrors.
And maybe they don’t exist.
“Try to start… from the beginning,” a ghost with a notepad says.
“No, I don’t want to remember that.” I slump, trying to give off the message that I want to be alone.
Deleted scene.
The sound of my voice seems to have an effect on them, as they disperse and back off. I sit in the sand until a mean looking ghost comes up, brandishing a calculator. He taps away at the keys on the intangible projection and glares at me, speaking in a rushed voice.
“You never had a plan. You never tried hard enough. You never thought anything through. As a result, the casualties will be momentous.” He types away, each sound another dagger in me. “One hundred and eighty thousand souls, innocents you have killed.”
“No fucking way!” There are no innocents.
“You were the one who killed some of us! How could you?!”
“I’ve never been here before!” They don’t listen. Even the dead haunt me. On the verge of tears, I yell, “I thought you were going to help me!”
“Priority one: Leave the Death Egg.”
“No, let me help him. Kill that fat fuck!”
“Come on, leave with me, it’ll be okay.”
“I can beat you! I am better!”
“Musical episode!” Instruments flare up out of nowhere, and somehow they know all the words, all the dance steps, and which parts of the sentence to stress so it rhymes. Not too hard, actually. They all know because it’s all the same.
They are no help. I start to trudge away, their taunts going in and out of audibility. The shouts are true, all of them. They somehow know what I fear the most, and that is thinking the same about myself. Usually, only one I know sounds like them, and it’s not me…
It would have been nice to have an aerial view of the place, but I have blown my chance for that. Even though I know this is just an island, probably smaller than I think it is, the desert seems vast. No end in sight. I’m afraid to look up now, so I judge the heat on my forehead as the position of the sun.
I can ignore the shouts completely now, and instead, forget the present. I can go poking around in my head later. I need out of the desert. Needed out.
Needed.
Streaking down on the canvas are what appear to be giant lines of turpentine and paint thinner. The landscape blotched out and melting. The amount of sand stretching on forever. I go along with it, trudging slowly, hoping I’ll die before I find any sort of civilization.
Soon, my eyes fall to the ground. I get a glimpse of my hands and my feet in the same frame. They represent my entire life. Both are stained with my blood, and the blood of… “thousands.” Shit.
Before I can take them off, I see something out of the corner of my eye.
Oh.
Oh no.
Not again.
It has to be a mirage. She can’t be here…
No, not a mirage.
It’s me. It’s me that’s making the mirage.
I’ve lost it. Finally. It happened.
I’ve snapped.
Her smiling face…
I give chase after her, now just a glint in the heat, rising in the sky and soon, fading away.
********** I have no idea.
Bark crouched on one knee and did his best to hide himself, but the Mushroom Hill bushes were too short for him, not thick enough, so he just got up and started running, cursing himself for being so careless. He had run right into a giant patrol, bigger than anything he had ever seen. And he froze, the sudden rush of panic too great, and he bolted after two full seconds of choke.
He had arrived into their company just after a skirmish with two bee-like flying ‘bots, the adrenaline pumping high, both barrels being fired. Bark was keyed up for action, anything other than what he had found. All of the eagerness to die in battle had quickly diminished.
But then, as he ran away and realized that they were not giving chase, the need for stimulants returned. He stopped in his tracks and faced the direction he had come from, breathing heavily, panting, and tightening his fists in anger. And just as he was about to return to them and pick a fight, he noticed where he was.
Espio and Charmy’s spot. The hill where they left their guns.
Bark smiled.
********** “I think I know why.”
Charmy patrolled Casinopolis, disagreeing with Knuckles’ idea to split them up. Espio being injured was no excuse, since they all were, but nonetheless, he obeyed the decision, thinking that it was probably for the best. Despite not knowing what was happening everywhere else, Charmy eventually decided that there was no real problem being where he was. The frequency of the ‘bots coming in were low and easy to handle, and soon the count piled up.
The area was not really all that huge. The casino was in reality only a place for slots, and to shelter the parks and recreation within. Merely to stall any invading force.
Charmy wished that he had brought his gun with him, but figured sooner or later that he could do very well without it.
But, keeping in mind, he was also thinking about himself, and ways to curse himself for coming to Angel Island, but more so he cursed himself for hearing about Knuckles in the first place.
********** “Want me to tell you?”
Back in Mushroom Hill. Fang slipped along the trees undetected, stopping every once in awhile to pick off a lone ‘bot setting fire to all the trees. It was easy to move quickly with the high-powered rifle slung over his shoulder. It was surprisingly light despite carrying over five-hundred rounds.
A weasel by reputation as well as by species, Fang had arrived at the island to escape from the tedium that was the world below. Things just got too typical, but here, here it was never a bore. It was always someone new trying to take over. That’s what he enjoyed the most about it.
The island was special. Anyone would want that.
But even paradise needs maintenance.
Fang stopped moving, high above the ground in a tree, overlooking a clearing below, where Vector was standing perfectly still, not even nodding his head to the music coming from his headphones. Highly unusual for the rhythmic reptile.
Bringing his rifle around to the front, Fang adjusted to scope and looked through it, hoping to find a reason for Vector’s frozen posture…
********** I don’t know.
Bean was setting his last charge when he saw Bark running away from the group he saw earlier. He smiled to himself, and didn’t miss a beat on his work.
Despite the rumor that he was unstable and jerky, the duck’s hands moved with efficiency and grace. When most people saw him in person, his hands shook, and they always took this to mean he was very stressed and strung out, when in reality he was only shaking because he was standing still. If, say, he was out building a bomb, he would be much more calm.
Every explosive took him two minutes to build and set for detonation. If he moved fast enough he could escape the bombs proximity before they were fully activated, saving even more time.
The last one set, Bean ran out of the way, hiding in the brush, ready to stop Bark before he ran into the bomb, hoping the others were having enough foresight to actually look for all of his trademarks before walking by.
This was going to be fun.
********** “All connected, remember?”
Oh man.
The ‘bots are even scattered out this far. They impede my advance. I keep losing sight of her, and I have to try harder to keep up.
My hand goes through a duck’s face. The eye juice forms around my hand and creates a hard shell. Inside his head I grip as many veins and sinew and tissue as I can and I rip out as many of them as I can. His body crumples to the ground and I stomp on him for about ten full seconds before moving on.
Sandopolis even has one of Robotnik’s general ‘bots, which I have to fight for five minutes straight before it goes down in flames. I don’t stop to look inside, and I make a guess as to where she went next.
I rip the limb off of a polar bear. Blood spurts out all over me as he screams, but I scream right back at him. I crack his arm over my knee, the bones popping out of his skin and fur. The bones enter his heart, and I tear sideways as hard as I can, the area from his chest to his armpit separated. He falls apart, still squirming, flopping around in seizures. I smile and I move on.
In a new area, IceCap, somehow where everything is snowy and white, I grab a piece of a flattened ‘bot, using it as a board. I glide down this slope, seeing her flying ahead just out of my reach. My calls to her go unheard, or maybe I’m not really calling out to her. Whatever, since she doesn’t stop for me. No matter how fast I go she always stays just out of my reach. And even though I know this is impossible, that this isn’t real, that I’m probably imagining her, imagining the snow, imagining the entire island, that I probably died in the Scratch and Grounder fight and I’m dead and this is hell and I’m destined forever to chase after her, with her twirling tails, with her sparkly personality, with her petite body, with her naïve views, no matter how many times I tell myself to stop, I can’t stop chasing after ghosts, after my past, after the future, staying locked in the present.
This oddly familiar weasel tries to stop me on my board and succeeds in tripping me on the bottom of the mountain. Before he can do anything else, though, my board flies up and goes through his mouth and out through the back of his head. His eyes stay wide and he chokes on his own blood and sinew. On the other end of the board, I’m grinning like an idiot and screaming. I push the board all the way through and he falls. I try to find his body on the ground but the snow covers it up too quickly, along with my board. I resume the chase.
These things that get in my way, they are all part of a grand design I have no comprehension of. They all seem to know where I’m going, slowing me down each time until I’m worse off than before. There is no escape. Ever since I swallowed those Emeralds through my chest, the world is less colorful and less vibrant and less living. In fact, I wouldn’t be at all surprised if this world was built by Robotnik. By Eggman. By the Doctor. Whatever his name is.
An armadillo, big and towering, waits for me at the end of the level, guarding the sign I need to spin in order to move on. I merely flip over him and grab his shell. It comes of surprisingly easy, and I fall on the ground, sprayed by moisture. Inside the shell, his skin, muscle, and cables still pulse with circulation. I fling the shell away and look back at him, spine exposed and thrashing around inside. He goes down without a sound. He doesn’t scream at all. Sonic passed Act One. Get ready for Act Two, you piece of shit.
A new area. Zone. Whatever. A water stage. Hydrocity. The drowned world. Some guy named Chaos. As I’m sure it’ll matter that I’ll know this. I never told anyone that I couldn’t swim, but I guess I forgot that I could. Several times I drown, the music ending in my final gasp. The world goes black and something asks if I want to try again. Soon, it’s not me that I’m controlling, or vice versa, but I keep getting visions of a shadowed figure holding a giant controller, pressing buttons. And I respond. Nevertheless, I still follow her. I still do what I want.
I’m afraid to look up… because I’ll see the strings.
The ‘bots increase in numbers, but I don’t even call them that anymore. They’re not creations. They aren’t metal. Soon, it’s living creatures I’m killing. Soon, I become what I fight against.
“No one is innocent.”
I’m arguing with myself. But my indecision ends in constant movement. Movement with no direction.
A hedgehog I don’t recognize lies on the ground, his colors fluctuating from red to black to green to blue and back again. I leave him alone.
“We have no purpose and it’s all been designed.”
A creature of some kind falls down in front of me and begs for its life, eyes bloodshot with tears and drugs. I tell it “Time to die.” And it is.
Vaseline rains from the sky. Suddenly, it’s harder.
I’m back underwater, clutching my throat. I barely make it to the top before I die again. Sonic passed Act five hundred fuck off fuck off. Do it again. Run in place. Pretend like this is going to matter.
I get an epiphany.
The Doctor and the Voice have the same smile. They merge into one and they laugh at me. I try to kill them but they won’t die.
**********
Vector traipsed through Mushroom Hill, keeping himself in tune with the music. Tiny music notes flew around his head.
That’s what it was all about to him. If something is blasting in his ears, it’s much easier for him to ignore something. As such, life… becomes… easy. Well, easier. Still, the croc figured that even if something happened to him, something sudden, like a heart attack or a bullet from behind, at least he would go out to music. The best idea in the world.
He was lucky enough to step on one of Bean’s bombs when there was a song transition, so sounds from the outside world could creep in. He heard the snap of the hard casing snapping in half, and all he could do was freeze in his tracks. The next song went on with no acknowledgement.
“Aw shit…”
********** ,,smetomise I gte cfuosedn,,
Mighty scratched his head, contemplating, deciding whether or not he should do what Knuckles asked. The people would be in considerable danger. They would essentially be fighting with no protection, no help from any of the Chaotix, and no weapons of any kind.
The giant armadillo sighed. His journey from the fight had been swift, only seven minutes, and Espio was placed back at The Resort to recover. Mighty had every confidence in his friends, sure that they would all make it out ok. He would even go as far as to say that for the people as well.
The shelter was built under one of the areas in Twinkle Park, called Radiant Emerald. One of the shining-green fake emeralds could be pulled away to reveal a giant steel door. To further hinder unwelcome guests, a knocking system was used, and if there was any indication of someone on the outside being an enemy, there was a manually controlled gun connected to the outside that was always available.
Of course, that gun would have to be cannibalized for the good of the group, as it would most likely be their only weapon if all of the others were shot down by the aerial assault.
Mighty felt like it was his job to protect these people. He had grown quite fond of them over the years, and was glad that they at least had an amusement park distract them from the world.
**********
“Whoa, man, like, fuck… Man.” Espio laughed hysterically with the rest of the group. Despite the fact that Charmy was being strangely quiet, this was the perfect ending to a battle.
“But the battle isn’t over yet.” Espio pointed out, struggling to make a point. With all the drugs in his system, he felt no pain. “It’s just beginning man, but, like, they don’t know that like we know that, man. We have the upper hand, man, you know?”
“I hear it,” Lumina said somewhat indifferently, flailing around a little on the couch. “But… what is Knuckles doing about all of this, man? He ain’t doin’ much, that’s for sure.” One of her calmer moments.
“No, he’s, like, hiding the Emeralds ‘n shit.”
“Hiding them?! But… wha… whe… WHY THE FUCK DOESN’T HE JUST USE THEM?!”
“I don’t know, it’s like, he doesn’t even care about us, yet, he orders us around. What the fuck, man?”
“It’s against his religion,” Charmy said quietly, startling everyone.
“Yo, Charmes, you okay?”
He didn’t answer, but instead cocked his head to listen to the explosions rocking the surface above them. The underground shelter called The Resort, as a joke mostly, smelled like fried cabbage and burnt hair. However, it was not only the safest place to be on the island, but it contained tunnels that led to other parts of the island.
This was the place where Knuckles was last seen.
Let’s assume for the moment that this isn’t the present. What if this is all a flashback, or worse yet, a flashback within a flashback. No forward movement. What if memory is the only thing you’ve got?
So, let’s also assume that I am doing this. That I already know what’s going to happen next, and you have yet to find out. What then? Is it not just stringing you along? Isn’t everything designed, as I say it will be?
No transition.
I’m swimming, choking on myself, when suddenly, the water ends. I climb up, out of the reservoir of the drowned city, and this gigantic wave of déjà vu washes over me. I see the casino sitting in the distance, large and circular. It towers high in the blinking sunlight, which for the first time I notice, is still high in the sky. The day has gone on for so long I’ve forgotten what the night looked like. Even so, the lights from the park block out the sun, so all the shadows obey the flashing blues and greens and red.
… Park… Amusement park… Immunity… Bullshit.
The moisture from Hydrocity comes off of me surprisingly quick. I contemplate my next move, and it all comes rushing back to me. My mission. I had completely forgotten. I had made this thing out to be a fight against everyone, when the real person I should be fighting is in a different direction. The beings of this world and I have a common enemy. We should be working together.
“Hey, you!”
Or not.
No transition.
I’m running again. I make it to the inside of the casino before this big mob of people I’ve never seen before come after me. The sounds of the games, only slots this time, thankfully, overwhelm me and almost knock me backwards. I compose myself and keep moving.
Nobody comes to stop me. I don’t recognize anything. It all looks new, even the elements from the old prison. Everywhere are broken pieces of ‘bots, littered and scattered. Blood covers every surface, and looks too thick, more like paint. Lights bounce off of the walls and surge in the atmosphere, which feels acrid and tough, like leather. My face starts itching. No matter how fast I run the world doesn’t blur, but stays as invasive and harsh as ever.
Finally, something I recognize comes into my view. It’s a giant pinball machine. The game looks like it plays normally, but is gigantic for the kids to think that it’s better than the original.
“What the fuck. Why not.” And I jump in, spinning through the protective shield.
No transition.
I’m hitting Sally in the face for some odd reason, and instead of blood, tiny shots of semen fly out of her. Slabs of cooked meat churn out of her eyes. Her head puffs smoke. There are churning noises within. Her legs are made of thin wires, thin as dental floss. Every time my fist hits her chin the needles go in further and she screams. Fleeting, random thoughts pass by, like, what if the Doctor didn’t really fix me? SMACK! What if the tightness in my chest is really a bomb or maybe an insane trigger? SMACK! What if I had left like everyone else? SMACK! What if the theater is real and I slipped into a coma? SMACK! What if I’m already dead? DING DING DING! Tilt.
Sally’s face caves in on itself, then puffs out again and explodes. The brain and skull matter shower over me and quiver. In her head’s place is the raccoon’s head, grinning at me. Out of all of this, he is the only one who is with me the entire time. He is the only one who seems like reality. And maybe, just maybe, he is telling the truth.
His head splits like an egg. Clear fluid goes everywhere. The yolk stays in one spot and glows like the sun.
No transition.
A transition within itself. I’m out of the pinball machine. No one has chased me, even though I’ve stayed in the exact same spot, erratic and jerky. Sporadic. Patchy. Random. Randy. Sex. Fucking. Fuck you. There’s those thoughts again I can’t control them can’t control them help me help me FOR FUCK’S SAKE! I CAN’T THINK FOR MYSELF anymore oh god oh shit fucking bitch
SHUT UP! FUCK YOU! GET OUT OF MY HEAD!!!!
Transition.
Back to our regularly scheduled program. Getting this all out, now. No stopping from now on. Hopefully, anyway…
I’ve left the casino and I haven’t stopped running. Inside the barren fields of toys upon interactive toys, I see more and more dead ‘bots. All I have put away. My eyes jerk away from them as I see a flash of orange fur…
And then I remember. Truthfully. I remember it all.
I give chase, more convinced with each step that I’m not insane, not insane, not insane. Step, step, step. Faster, faster.
Soon, so soon, I will be with her again.
Who am I talking about?
None of that.
To question is to doubt.
Okay, fine.
Tails keeps running from me. She doesn’t turn around when I shout to her, which I take to mean that I’m not shouting loud enough, or not at all. You can be crazy in different ways, and I at least want her to be real again. Not dead. Not burnt to a crisp. She’s not a freak. YOU ARE NOT A FREAK!
I’m sorry I rejected you.
I’m so fucking sorry.
**********
“This was all inevitable. You know that, right? There was no stopping it.”
“I know.”
“The fact that it’s mutual is a technicality.”
“Right. So… what are we going to do about it?”
“I’m not sure.”
“What everyone else does?”
I was silent.
Tails leaned closer to me. “What you’ve done?”
“I don’t know. I don’t have all of the answers.”
“That’s a cop-out. Come on, tell me, why won’t you just let things happen?”
“Why should I?”
“Because, deep down, you really want to.”
“I… I’m scared.”
“You-”
“I’m scared of the future. I’m scared of what will happen if I let go. I feel like I’m the only nail, you know? The only thing holding the world together…”
“So this means you can’t love me?”
“No.”
She was starting to sob. “Why not?!” Getting hysterical.
“It’s… not right. I’m… I’m so sorry Tails.”
“It’s fine, really,” Tails says this through sobs, and it sounds rushed to me.
I know this isn’t really what I want. I know I could probably make my life with her if I wanted. It would make us both happy. But I don’t say anything. I just nod and keep my expression. I keep it conflicted. I keep the pain moving. It’s the only way I can live.
If the pain stops, then there is nothing to fight for. If you’re happy, why live? If you’re sad, why live, Tails? Getting what you want only causes more…
More everything.
I want to tell you all of this. So much, so much.
I wish you were still here.
But you’re not.
You’re dead.
**********
Stardust Speedway. I see her there. I run, screaming apologies, but she doesn’t listen. She keeps her eyes on the horizon, as if she herself is chasing someone. My eyes burn from not blinking, my chest burns from running non-stop. The landscape keeps changing from gothic architecture to stone walls to cathedral-esque railings. The colors keep changing from blue to green to purple to dark, puke green again. In order to keep going I need to slide along these wrist-thick poles that line the paths or else I’ll smack right into them.
All in all, this isn’t so hard. Now that I can concentrate a little better, since someone has destroyed most of the ‘bots, and I can fend off the creeping darkness. I can also think properly.
So.
What have we learned, children?
A) Knuckles is keeper of the Chaos Emeralds, and guards them because of some higher purpose.
B) The Chaotix are a gang comprised of many different types of beings, all seemingly coming from different backgrounds.
C) Angel Island is bigger than originally thought, as it seems to increase in size once one actually sets foot on the island. Climates rang from freezing to burning ass. All around are exotic plants and buildings and a quilt of pieced-together culture.
D) Robotnik is after something, and I cannot decide what yet. He uses pawns, manipulating them to serve his goals. He has an excellent way of making someone think that he can get them whatever they want. So, those who can think for themselves still follow, and the rest sit in lines ready to die.
E) The creations of his, the special projects, are big threats. But let’s get away from that area entirely for just a second.
F) Me. The biggest issue. I can’t seem to be able to control myself anymore. My testimony is unreliable. My memories are lies. Every word I say is probably not what’s really happening. Everything around me gets killed when I try to touch it. And yet, still, I have priorities. I have to get in. I have to find out what the fuck is down there that the Doctor wants. But I can’t talk right now.
She’s here.
She’s here.
I stop in my tracks.
No, not her, the other one.
I see her smiling face.
How the fuck did they find me?
Eggman hovers in on a flying machine of his, laughing hysterically, cackling like a witch. A giant gun pulls… wait… a giant LASER comes out of the front of the machine. He laughs harder.
“And now you must race!” The fat man says, lower jaw quivering, his voice cheesy and overbearing. I glare at him and turn back to Metala, who floats in mid-air, expressionless. “Race! If you want to save the President’s daughter’s life!”
“Sarah?! Noooooooooooooo!”
Running happens. Obstacles get in my way and I have to jump over them. Metala doesn’t fight fair, knocking me down with her clawed hands and fingers. I don’t bleed when she scratches me. I fall from the sky and I’m still unhurt. Robotnik chucks laser beams at me from off screen. I lose more and more rings. Soon, I have none and if I get hit one more time
What?
If I get hit one more time I’ll die. I can’t believe she’d do this to me. After all we’ve been through. After all that I did for her. FUCK YOU, SALLY! YOU DON’T EVEN EXIST HERE! I HOPE YOU FUCKING DIE!!!! I accelerate up until I’m right beside her. She swipes at me but misses. We stay the same distance apart, going the same velocity. The side-scrolling map becomes one large yellow line, and we’re both running on it
Transition… no, wait…
running on the yellow line. We swipe and claw at each other but miss. I tell her that I love her and she tries to kick me. Every attempted blow isn’t hesitated, but still we have a conversation. “I love you too,” I hear her say, in a non-robotic voice. I imagine her like she used to be, dirty, greasy, a cum dumpster. She was so fucking attractive. My first thoughts when I saw her, I think, were that I’d like to have her, and if I couldn’t, I would kill her so no one else could. But she’s
i’m missing the sunset, tails
too fast for me to fuck. And all she does is swipe at me. Her metal claws tear my back open all the time, anyway. So, I break up with her, right there. She starts crying metal tears and moves faster. I follow suit.
enough
Holy shit. Tails. No, no, no. I forgot. FUCK! Fucking shit! Stop doing this to me! I know it’s you, you fucking shit! You sit in your theater, you laugh at me, you control me! I tried embracing you. I tried to love you. I tried to tolerate you. But I can’t have you. So fuck you! You’re dead if I ever find you.
Suddenly, it stops.
The level ends.
Metala and Robotnik disappear. And Tails.
The sky is too dark to see any real stars. Even the red from the disappearing light is gone as well.
I missed the sunset.
When I said that the tears stopped coming for good…
I lied.
Everything anyone tells you is a lie.
Everything I tell you is a lie.
Next level.
**********
Espio was still passed out on the other couch when Mighty came rushing back in. Heavy and Bomb snapped to attention.
“Guys, we have a familiar friend coming this way.”
“Sir?” buzzed Heavy, keeping the same posture.
Mighty looked around the room, confused. “Where’s Charmy?”
“He is not here, sir. I was under the impression by Knuckles that he was in Casinopolis.”
“I know, I was just there. I told him to come here.” Mighty contemplated something for a second. “As soon as he gets here, tell him to stay put until as many of us get back. The situation has changed.”
“Sir, does Knuckles know about this?” Scratching his metal forehead, something programmed into him that the group thought was “cute.”
“Yes, like I said, a mutual friend has come back. I saw him headed towards Stardust Speedway. Can one of you go out and bring him here?”
“No termination?” Heavy almost looked disappointed.
“No, Knuckles wants him alive. Apparently, he’s ‘not in on it.’” Mighty sighed. “I gotta get outa here. I’ll try to come back in one piece.” He left the room, calling to the crowd that had followed him.
Heavy turned to Bomb. “Ping, you do it.”
“PING!” And he shuffled out the door, his large, bulky arms swaying in the same direction. For seemingly no reason, Bomb said “PING!” again.
Lumina sat upright in her seat suddenly. Her eyes fell on the chameleon across the room, who was just them waking up, very much in pain.
“Why the fuck is Espio here?”
**********
Speed Highway.
Act seven million.
The all-purpose showcase. The sparkling nightmare, going full speed, high throttle. The spotlights directed at the tracks and the paths on ahead. Little yellow dashes cover the centers of all the roads. It’s impossible to tell what is up and what is down without the blackness of the night sky as a reference. The lights flash green three times, purple, then blue, and I can’t help but think that it means something that I can’t grasp. I go too fast to notice anything else.
This is where I last saw her. And no matter how fast I ran I can’t catch back up to her. But running is much better than standing still. I’d rather have movement with no direction than direction with no movement.
I haven’t seen a single thing that has to do with Robotnik in a long while, and I’m starting to worry. Then again, I’ve already decided that he doesn’t care, so what am I bitching about?
I emerge from a long tube of color and light, out into the park again. Small specks of color litter the ground below. I am above a new area, and rather than finish this pointless, boring one, I jump down, knowing I won’t be hurt.
Sonic found a shortcut!
I land “gracefully” on some kiddy’s ride, where giant animals spin around in cylinders. I shatter the entire structure, and I bounce on my face. When I get up, a sign spins in front of me, brandishing sparkling letters.
Diamond Dust.
…
Question: Why do the different parts of the amusement park sound like euphemisms for drugs?
Oh, wait, it’s an advertisement.
Or… an advertisement… for drugs.
No, fuck it.
I look past the spinning sign to a larger one, stationary, plastered on the front of a giant snake-like tube.
“Radical City.”
No shit. The colors alone make me want to puke.
Instead of running, I walk calmly through the streets, somehow convinced that here I need to scrutinize. A careful observation of the structures can lead me to the place I need to go. Random wise proverb.
Radical City looks like a set out of a movie I’ve seen before, but I cannot decide which. It’s possible that it’s a patchwork of all the things I’ve seen. That’s not too far off, since a lot of that’s been going on lately.
The entire park seems to be a giant bastardization of Knuckles’ culture. It’s mixed with thousands of others, resulting in a gray colored child of everyone and no one. Something else that’s unique.
I see store windows, closed from the inside, brandishing merchandise, featuring gifts, promoting commercialism. Tiny dolls with blank eyes stare at whoever walks by, and the tricks of the lights can lead anyone to believe that the eyes follow them. The dolls are each a different species. Foxes, squirrels, walruses, birds, bears, who gives a fuck? Alligators, bees, armadillos, chameleons. Echidnas. Ghosts. Foxes again. Squirrels again. Robotnik again. One doll that looks too much like Tails’ dead body starts to creep me out when it waves at me, so I get the hell out of there.
I see bits of paper abandoned on the street. Lined and torn with words written on them like “fuck = emotion” and “damn is spelled d-a-m-n, with an ‘n’ at the end.” I see television sets with Knuckles’ face on them, and he’s saying what a great place Angel Island is, as if it were necessary.
“Welcome to the Floating Island. Wait until things heat up.” His badly-animated face grins. I think he loves himself too much.
I see something out of the corner of my eye, flying somewhere above the lights and the stars.
Her.
I start to wave my arms around like an idiot, screaming at her to land, that I’m right here, that together, we can beat him.
My happy façade fades away, and I turn back to the monitors, crossing my arms, ignoring the sprite coming down.
“Long ago, an ancient civilization lived on Angel Island: my ancestors. When they disappeared, they left behind many special traditions.” A computer-generated image moves on the screen, illustrating Knuckles’ words.
The giant bee from earlier lands behind me and watches the screen with me for a few moments before speaking with a contempt-filled voice. “You’re coming with me,” he says.
“I am Knuckles, you guardian for this evening. If you have any questions, comments, or offers for dinner dates *wink*, please attempt to contact me at the Radical City Resort.”
The bee’s knee catches me in the chin, almost snapping my tongue off, and then he throws me into one of the windows. I land on about five televisions, breaking them open. Around me I catch glimpses of images of the ones that still work…
A piece of currency.
The bee’s head snaps back, pulling his entire body with him…
A chaos emerald.
I almost get my arm torn off by the force of him pulling me into the air. He drops me when he thinks we’re high enough…
Robotnik’s face.
I hit him so hard in the crotch that my glove tears a little. He falls on the ground and shudders…
My face.
In a new place, Carnival Nights, I get flipped upside-down by giant fans that cover the ground. Random noises come from all sides, and I can’t distinguish one from the other. Ping, beeeoooop, wakwaka, buzz, bla bullshit. Because of all the distractions, I miss the next image on the screens…
?
Back in Radical City, the giant bee flies at me at full speed, and uses his body to knock me backwards into the screens behind the window…
Flames. Still. Calm. Non-threatening.
One of his wings gets torn out by my teeth. Blood doesn’t fly anywhere, and neither does he.
A water drop that could be acid.
At a water park called Azure Lake, he holds my head underwater. The ground beneath looks fake because of the two primarily colored squares that line the inside.
A lightning bolt.
We’re both beaten and battered, but I have the upper hand since my foot is on his jugular. Two kicks and he’s out cold, thrashing.
I had a plan that I was going to tell him about, but I knew he would have opposed it, so I had to show him who was boss first. I hope this is understandable. I need him to get inside.
When he wakes up, I’ll tell him, just so he knows how it’s going to happen.
**********
Coming out of the first flashback.
Lumina: “Dude, we would so fucking kick ass if Knuckles used the Emeralds like they were meant to be used.”
Espio: “Hells yes we would. Religion is an excuse out of your duties to protect your people.”
Lumina: “Religion is submission to cowardice.” The drugs were wearing off. They sounded halfway intelligent. Another batch of drugs was brought out.
Espio: “Like I said, man, it’s all about context .Thank you, Heavy… context. Take everything the same way and we’d be fighting all the time.” *takes a hit, eyes become bloodshot* “Ain’t that right, Charmes?”
Charmy: “…”
This display of stupidity brought to you by recreational drugs. Diamond Dust. Your own brand.
So this is what it is like. To be something you hate. I can’t help but feel some sort of fear, wearing something like this. Claustrophobia closes in and soon, so soon, I won’t be able to keep my quiet façade any longer.
Earlier, in the flashback, I had a sudden realization. These creatures aren’t really creatures. They’re puppets, like everyone else. They wear giant suits and walk around pretending. Playing with roles. Inside nobody can really know what they look like. Inside doesn’t really matter. Outside is what counts.
Wearing some else’s suit isn’t very different than wearing your own. All you need to do is act like what you’ve seen. Just as long as you look enough like someone, no one will notice. Words are useless.
“Heavy… this shit is heavy…” And she laughs. “Fucking genius, ain’t he?”
“He makes some bomb skag, baby,”
“You wanna toke, Charmes?” Offering the helping.
“No, thank you.”
Watching them move, watching them act, watching them think, it is entirely possible that I could probably take all their lives over if I wanted to.
“You sure? You look pretty fucked up.”
“I’m fine.”
The door opens and the sound of it almost startles me enough to visibly jump. The alligator walks in with a weasel and a polar bear closely behind. They all look pretty fucked up.
“Guys, we’re in for some shit,” the white bear says, sitting on the couch, ignoring the wafting smoke in the air. “Bean’s dead.”
“Whoa. Heavy.” Espio starts to form tears.
“How did it… happen?”
“Blown up by his own fucking bomb. Let me get a hit of that.”
“So, what happened to you guys?”
The weasel takes a seat in the corner, taking off his hat and resting his head in his hands.
Alligator-fuck spoke up, after taking a hit. “Ran into a fucking ‘bot patrol. Normally nothing we couldn’t handle, but… there were others.”
I stiffen, if that were possible.
“Others?”
“Yeah,” the bear says, sounding pissed at himself. “I ran into them by myself before the others appeared, but they must have been hidden by the group of metal-heads. I go in shooting with the guns, and at first they cut away from me but then I see a flash of black and red and the next thing I know, all of my fucking fingers are chopped off.”
I notice for the first time the bloody rags wrapped around his hands, but the color is off because of the fucking eyes I have on. Still, obviously Shadow’s work.
“Then, after lying behind a different bush, in cover, I see three familiar faces. Mighty didn’t arrive yet.”
“Mighty?”
“Yeah, after Vector, Fang, and I get knocked down from Bean’s explosion, he comes tearing in with the public, all of them ready for a fight. It’s really fucking mind-blowing.”
“No shit, man.”
Vector starts again, eyes looking a blood-shot brown. “Get this: we see that one fuckin’ bitch traipsing around, shooting at everyone. And I’m thinking, “Holy shit, she’s on our side,” but the hoe fires one right at my fuckin’ head!”
“Which bitch?”
“The one with the tits that dressed like a slut. Remember? Knux had a boner for her.”
“Oh… right.”
Bark groans, shifting his weight on the couch. “Needless to say, there was a big brawl. Too many things are going on to concentrate. We get pretty fucked up and we end up retreating, leaving the remnants of the townspeople. Mighty didn’t follow.”
“How the fuck can you guys mess up that bad?”
Vector’s eyes get redder. “Hey, fuck you! You weren’t there, man, we were! They had these fucked up experimental lab rats that could rip the cock off of an Echidna elder and live, ya piece of shit! The way you fight, you wouldn’t have survived two seconds there!”
“Calm the fuck down,” the weasel says, crossing the room. The room goes silent. “I got close enough to the bat to learn a few things. Robuttnik is going after the stones soon, and we have to prepare for when he does. He says he has a hostage that he wants to use to his advantage, but that was before Mighty went missing. And if he does have him then he might be here sooner than we think, so we need to mobilize whenever we get the chance.”
“It’s Robotnik.”
Oh shit.
Oh fuck.
Shouldn’t have said that.
The room goes silent, but some of them stare at me, suspicious.
“What,” Espio and Lumina say at the same time. “Who said that? Bomb, was that you?”
The weasel takes a step forward, reaching for his rifle, but before he can say anything, a panel slides out from the far corner of the room, and this time I do visibly jump.
Knuckles comes walking out. “The situation has changed, fellas. I want everyone who’s left to get to Sky Sanctuary and wait for me.”
“What about-”
“Nobody can help them now. They’re all dead. And if they’re not, then they used the escape chutes to get to where I want you all. Either way, get the fuck out of here.”
There is a sobering silence afterwards, as everyone silently mourns for their lost kind, their lost home, their lost lives…
No.
I was wrong.
They’re all staring at me again.
Knuckles takes one look at me and he knows, he knows what I am inside.
He bolts in the other direction. The door comes slamming down.
I don’t want to blow my cover any further, so I don’t get out of my new skin just yet. I regret it, since the costume is bulky, impeding, and on all accounts, it really sucks.
The door comes lower to the ground. If I was there I would have to duck to get in. I’m running out of time.
The room still watching, I’m rushing to the door, almost tripping on my feet. My legs can’t go too far forward, or they’ll tear off, ripped from crotch to ankle. The last red color of Knuckles disappears into the dark. The do-
Lower.
Breeze from the cave blows at me, urging me forward. I lean forward, thinking “fuck it” and move my legs as far as I fucking want to. Pieces of metal hit the floor.
Lower.
I make it. I slide under the door just before it comes closing on my head. It’s so dark on the other side that I can’t see my hand.
********** It’s happening again
Immediately when I walk inside, a jolt of fear crawls jaggedly up my backside and cascades back down again. The suit is no longer a comfort, so I tear it off. The cold air hitting me is refreshing for not even a second. Through my shoes, the ground feels hard. Like the bottom of the Mystic Cave.
Knuckles is nowhere to be seen, but there is a glowing white light ahead. A soft, artificial glow that looks too fake, almost as if it’s a painting right in front of me, and I can touch it if I only reach towards it.
But I start walking forward, and it’s only empty space I run in to. The shape gets gradually bigger, but I still can’t make out what it is yet…. It looks rectangular.
Then…
I hear chewing, teeth-gnashing noises. Short bursts of guttural growling.
My eyes have not adjusted to the darkness yet, so I do not bother to look for some one. I, however, do pick up my pace.
The growling continues, and in fact, sounds much closer than before.
I imagine my feet being chewed off, and I break into a jog. The shape stays the same size.
These tiny red dots start to randomly come into focus. They look like lights on the ground, that I’m guessing serve as guides to the shape. This is a good sign to me.
The growling gets louder.
I break into a run.
The shape gets further away. I realize that it’s a door.
I also realize that the red dots aren’t lights, but eyes.
I start imagining what it’s like to be eaten alive. I imagine my skeleton turning to butter and being sucked out by these tiny creatures. I imagine my organic lungs being pulled up and out of my face. I imagine my own bile dripping on my dead body, from the mouth of hungry, faceless animals.
The sound of my shoes hitting the ground is no match for the echoing of the growling and drooling. Soon, the snarling is right on top of me. The red dots start to move, quick and efficient. They disappear and reappear, coming close to my feet as I run by.
I imagine the sounds of my ankles being chewed off. I hear the bigger chunks of me hit the floor. I imagine cooked flesh liquefied and pouring out of me. The marrow and veins sucked dry. My skin start to collapse on itself. My eyes suck into my head.
The door becomes so far away that I can’t see it anymore.
“What is life to you, Sonic?”
Surely not this.
I fall on my face, hitting the rocks that line the ground, probably cutting my face. I cross my arms over my belly, covering the softest part. My eyes move wildly around, adjusting to the dark.
“Do you wish to be set free?”
More than anything
set
me free
I get a good look at them.
Holy God…
Ravenous beasts, so tiny yet so consuming, so dangerous. The red eyes move around their heads like they’re swimming in tears. They look hollow. Fragile. Their body is one solid color that I can’t tell too well in the darkness of the cave. A single strand of hair that looks like a balloon on a string comes out of their heads. There aren’t cute. I don’t want one as a fucking pet.
These are chaos.
That is Chaos?
No, chaos.
What’s the fucking difference?
It was a test, Sonic. That is all.
No point?
Do you care?
Not really.
“Good. Now…”
There are thousands of them, all coming at me, clear drops of spit dripping from their gaping holes in their heads. They’re too fast, too fast… I can only watch as they all start to chow down. R-
Ripping.
Tearing.
I curl quickly out of the fetal position and press my only flesh flat against the ground, where they can’t get to it. My face goes down too. Their teeth sink into my armor and they get stuck. They growl.
They cover me entirely. Whatever is sunny side up is eaten. Blood flows down my back and down my head, and not all of it is mine. They’re killing each other just to get a piece of me.
I start to crawl.
Crawl
Chew
Crawl…
My blood mixes with theirs.
Crawl…
The gnashing of teeth with flesh becomes deafening.
Clearer. Still clearer.
I’m not dead. I can still move.
They keep chewing.
I stop crawling. I let them chow down on me, figuring that it would only be embarrassing to crawl anymore.
The world starts to spin.
“I will not set you free.”
I start to think about how long it would take them to eat every trace of me. Probably a couple of days, and by then, whatever I was trying to do would be lost and forgotten and past and wouldn’t matter anymore. In fact, that’s probably already true.
The world keeps spinning until…
The ground changes.
I’m inside the door and I didn’t even move.
The chewing stops and instead they all start screeching. The echoing walls resounds the noises back and forth. My eyes begin to adjust to darkness when I’m blinded by a white light that kills off the screaming.
Still, the world spins.
Spins.
Spins…
Keeps spinning. Ducks, fish, doves, and bubbles all fly across the wall beneath me, all the while the world keeps turning. I stay curled in a ball. In perpetual spin-dash, but nothing breaks when I hit it. The colors flash with a distracting glare. The music is repetitive, yet very catchy. I start to involuntarily hum along after two seconds.
I go flying into a wall and I stick, gravity pulled to this turning wall. I slide down as it shifts, and a maze of corridors opens ahead.
A game.
I can only think in two dimensions.
It’s a game.
It comes back.
It’s back in focus.
I understand now.
“Freedom is an illusion.”
I get used to my controls in this new environment. They are awkward and not what I am used to. It’s doesn’t come quick, so mostly I stay in the same room, bouncing off of the three available colored walls and avoiding the exit.
And then I’m off. I fall about two feet before smacking into a hard surface and bouncing off of the walls and swiftly shooting through the twists and turns. There is no stopping. If I stop, that means I die. I have to keep spinning within the spinning. You can’t outrun death every time, but you can sure as fuck try.
In this maze, there are no dead ends. Simply ends. You cannot turn around if you go the wrong way. There’s something about the ends that fend off room for experience, so I guess I’ll just have to be lucky. I’ve gotten this far, haven’t I?
I instinctively avoid anything flashing red. Anything that means “danger.” The corners that are too smooth make me suspicious, and I stay away from them.
These round, white-outlined balls propel the blue ball faster. Different balls painted black shift the maze in a different direction. Every once in awhile, a noise sounds, signifying a continue. It’s probably lying.
If I fail, I get fed to the chaos. No question.
“Emotions cannot be defined, and therefore, do not exist. Only the illusion does.”
My trek goes on for about thirty seconds total, but it feels much, much longer than that. The doves and the fish and the bubbles fly at me, but can’t stop me unless they actually attack.
Eventually, I get to a large, expansive part of the maze. Up ahead I see multicolored crystals arranged in a giant diamond. Hiding something…
My goal.
It’s easy to hit this giant thing, and even more so when the exit to the room where I came in closes off. I have more ground to push off of.
The crystal shards crack and break off. The rewarding dings keep me going. Closer and closer I get to my goal, and confidence takes over. Soon, there is only one layer to go.
I fall down into a small notch and I wait for the right angle. The room tilts in the same direction until I’m almost ready to jump…
Then.
“There are no emotions other than hate and anger.”
Something happens. It changes somehow. The wall I wait on becomes unstable. My perpetual spin dash starts to work on the walls, and immediately I wish I’d never asked it to. Now, every time I land on solid ground, I hurt it. Every time I touch something, I destroy it. What was once my ally now defects. The squares turn into round balls, and death is suddenly on my heels.
The goal becomes far away again, and this time, standing still won’t help me.
I go slamming into a black dot, turning the maze again. I fly across empty space, trying desperately to turn myself. I narrowly miss a pit of evil red circles and land on a green square.
I wait.
The maze starts to turn faster.
“Emotion is a state of mind.”
The block turns color every second. A fish flies at me masked below a sea of purple.
For some reason, just before the block finally turns red, I think of Sally…
I spin into a crystal, which shatters into an opening. Inside is a Chaos Emerald that disappears when I touch it.
Stop.
More advanced.
I’m running along this curved highway of some kind. Again, I cannot stop running or it’s all over. The lines of the path repeat in pattern and the end is nowhere in sight. The sky passes by in fast motion.
I test the controls of the level. Moving left or right cause me to zoom up the ramp and into the air. Oddly enough, I push off of nothing and come slamming back down to the line in the middle.
Annoying music starts playing.
Something in the distance comes slowly forward, then faster.
Black.
Something else…
“We tumble them in a maze…”
“… of spikes.”
Shit.
“Love is a state of mind.”
The speed increases. Rows of the spiked balls come too fast. There are no brakes. I can only dodge. I can only defend.
The object of this one is unclear, but a number keeps on flashing in my head.
1,000
1,000
1,000
Quota.
“Love is pain.”
I’m running along the side of the wall when I get scraped by a ball. My armor opens up and blood squirts out in a thin, steady line for about two seconds. Then it stops.
827
827
Shit.
The blood squirts out in front of me, and litters the track ahead.
“Pain is all you’ve got.”
I think I get it. Maybe.
Trumpets sound and the track comes at me faster. Spiked balls start appearing in large circle. Long lines that continue along the contours of the track. It becomes so bad that I have to stay in the air for long amounts of time. Each miss is a narrow one.
I run into the drops.
My number goes back up to
904
It will probably be enough.
I wait.
I wait.
I keep running.
The end doesn’t come.
“Pain is all that is keeping you alive.”
The spiked balls increase in frequency. I end up touching nothing more than necessary. It becomes less of a reflex test and more of an endurance test, and it’s grueling, too. And yet I’m still running.
Fuck this.
“Pain is life.”
I stand in the middle of the track and wait for the nearest projectile to hit me in the face.
. . . . . . I don’t know what it’s like to be a child. I only know what it’s like to be young and stupid. I was never innocent. I was only naïve. Ignorance is never a substitute. So, because of all that, I guess I was never meant to be a savior . . . . . .
The next spike comes at my face so fast that it comes out the other side. I’m thrown backwards and I spin, but my speed remains constant. More spikes hit me while I’m down, but I don’t get hurt.
. . . . . . It’s impossible to expect so much out of someone that believes in so little . . . . . .
All I’m doing is moving forward. There is no explanation as to why I’m doing it or how I’m doing it or where I’m going in the fucking first place.
. . . . . . Without direction, there might as well be no movement at all . . . . .
Another spiked ball hits me in the chest. Strings of red lines paint the clouded sky and the track. Moving still.
. . . . . . . Without direction, every movement is useless . . . . . .
The number is probably down to zero now, which means I’m dead. My insides feel dry. Ragged. All around sucked, fucked, and thrown away. And it’s all my fault.
. . . . . . . Everything I tell you is a lie . . . . . .
My legs stop moving but the track comes on, relentless, but I don’t care. Let it run. Let them hit me. Let them kill me. Let me die.
. . . . . . . Set me free . . . . .
“I will set you free.”
There’s no blood left, so tears fly out of me. My cum flies out of me. Pus flies out of me. Eye-juice flies out of me. There isn’t a single closed gap. My old wounds open up. A cut on my eye widens. I feel my bladder explode inside of me. My hands are torn off. My leg breaks in ten different places. The armor cracks like dried pie crust. Every inch of my surface is pulled in half and in quarters. The new orifices purge the liquid they contain. I am raped and pillaged and torn in half.
. . . . . . I will kill myself to save you . . . . .
. . . . . . I will kill you to save you . . . .
. . . . . . I will
Stop.
Again, no transition.
It just changes every time I figure something out.
This time, there is only darkness.
There is no one anywhere.
This is the world of the future. This is the world where there is nothing. This is the world where there is no evil, there is no good, there is no middle ground.
This is the world that I want.
This test is easy. All I have to do is…
…
No.
I take that back.
It’s not easy.
Nothing ever is.
And I better fucking get used to it.
Something starts to fade up in front of me.
…
It’s a mirror.
A face stares back at me, so evil and so sneering and so uncaring.
I know him all too well.
Transition.
I’m on a giant round ball, standing still. Again, there are clouds in the color-changing sky. Again, red balls surround me. Again, I am supposed to dodge them.
I am standing still. They aren’t letting me move. Or I’m not letting them move me.
Off in the distance, I see a shade of blue.
“This moment of calm is the deciding point of everything. That stupid building theory of yours. What you choose to do now decides how long you last.”
What the fuck do I do, then?
“You’re the smart ass. You figure it out.”
… Move or sit still.
Live or die.
The giant ball of multicolored shit starts moving. I jump over red ball after red ball, turning and twisting and always landing on my feet. I get to the blue haze, which is a giant clump of blue balls. Shut up.
Without thinking, I run into them.
What the fuck am I doing? Is this symbolism or something?
“It’s a game.
It’s a test.
In the end, it matters to nothing.
The only thing that is easy is dying.”
The test turns into a scavenger hunt. The clumps of blue are hidden in different places around the globe. There are only four or five blue balls for every two hundred red balls. I have to avoid the reds and collect the blues.
Within the hardship lies accomplishment.
Why?
That is the only real question. Why do this in the first place?
“You’ll know after you’re done.”
Figures. I never get an answer. Only an excuse.
Deal with it.
So, I do.
I dodge the pointless balls and collect the ones they make me. The last one I collect causes the world to spin again. It stretches and tears and rips. Blood pours out of all the cracks. It all goes black and words on the screen pop up.
They say: Game over
They say: Buy the Sequel
They say: Sonic Will Return!!!
There is no other resolution.
I have beaten the game and the only thing I can think is…
What a waste of time.
**********
Knuckles sits in front of the Master Emerald with his back to me, muttering something that echoes in the cave. His white hands resting behind his back, his head lowered, he looks to me like a very unorthodox priest, praying to a God that somehow is manifested in physical form. He stands perfectly still in his meditation. Not even the breeze moves him.
The church is essentially an underground mine. Crystals line the walls, somehow smooth and sparkling brilliantly, even though it’s far underground, away from the familiar sun. Colors bounce off of the insides, forever trapped by the inescapable walls of the mirrored surface.
A display shelf of sorts sits on the far side, jutting out above a network of dark tunnels. The shelf has seven indentations, all filled with the Chaos Emeralds. They seem to glow without the need of any light. Seeing them all together like that makes me feel like a giant dagger soaked with someone else’s blood is being thrust into me. I feel soiled. I feel wasted. I feel the withdrawal pulling me towards a pit of breakdown.
Despite this, no matter the yearning directed towards the Chaos Emeralds, the Master Emerald in the center overshadows all of it. The ultimate apple of Eden.
The features on the surface: flawless.
The colors within: breathtaking.
The power one could wield: infinite.
Knuckles’ words suddenly become more audible.
“Tikal, you poor fool… I will not end up like you. I will not be tempted. History will not repeat itself…”
His lips aren’t moving.
The Master Emerald does not need to hear these insane ramblings. Once I am in control of it, there will be no stopping me.
A shining light of green showers over me. An invisible hand pulls me towards the source, and before I know what’s happening, I am already in its hold. Knuckles tries to stop me but I barely notice.
I can’t help but think about Sonic… and how much I want him to be here with me…
So I can kill him.
**********
Aftermath.
Here I come to save the day.
Here I arrive to be too late.
When I reach the monastery, I see a huddled form in the dark corners of the room, sobbing violently. His cries echo endlessly in the grand chamber.
My eyes are drawn to the center, a deep indentation that looks as though a large object was supposed to be set there. Behind it, there is also a shelf with seven, much smaller indentations. Each hollow looks cold, new, and incomplete.
Knuckles looks like one of these hollows. He looks as though he has just lost everything. He sobs with no reservation, as if crying is somehow his last hope. His meaty shoulders heave up and down, expelling air, every gasp of intake desperate. This all seems horribly out of place and out of character.
I walk out of the shadows. Whatever light that used to be in the cavern is gone now. The crystal walls are unlit and dead. Dust moves inside every contour, making a new home where they couldn’t before. They settle as if the light will never, ever return. Maybe they’re right.
I reach Knuckles and he stands up and attacks me. A bloody stump hits me in the face, leaving a giant streak of blood everywhere his throwing arc went.
I back away and he keeps swinging. Snarling. Tears running down his face. Blood dripping off of his stump. Teeth bared. Voice echoing.
I don’t fight back. I just dodge the flashes of red.
Holy shit.
What the fuck just happened?
I’ve been asking that all week.
He looks so helpless. I remember when we first fought, where he seemed reserved, but cool and confident. Now, he looks like it was all just a mask of what he really is.
It’s sickening.
It’s pathetic.
He’s worthless.
But we’re in the same boat, aren’t we?
I stop dodging. I let him hit me.
The hand he has left is the only one that hurts, but it’s not worse than anything else I’ve felt. Rejection is worse than getting hit. Loss is worse than getting hit. He’s experienced all of that. Maybe this will help him get over it.
His stump lands a right hook across my cheek. It feels spongy. Wet. He leaves it sitting on my face. Breathing heavily, crying. I can feel the throbbing of his uncovered veins on my cheek.
The stump eventually slides off, falling to his side, limp and useless. He collapses to the floor and cries some more. The blood across my eyes washes everything in a dark red, and I don’t wipe it off. I just stand there, looking at him.
He stops to breathe in, real deep, and he looks up at me, ignoring himself, and he says, “You look like shit.”
I pick him up and set him against the far wall, near the breeze and the display shelf. The next few minutes, he explains what happened.
“The fucking asshole came out from the secret entrance. He must’ve… learned it from that bitch spy of his.” He chokes back a sob. “He reached the Master Emerald before I could stop him. At first, it looked like he was going to be trapped inside, consumed by its power, but… he made it work for him. Fucking cocksucker…” He stops crying. Instead, he gets angrier. His words come spilling through closed teeth. “The power he could wield with that thing… you could understand that I had to do anything to stop him, right? You could understand what I had to do…”
His eyes squint and move from his severed hand to the empty shelf above him. His voice becomes so low that I can barely hear it.
“It didn’t work…”
His chest is heaving up and down, but he isn’t in physical pain. His severed hand doesn’t even bother him.
“The only thing I succeeded in doing was keeping the Emeralds from him, but I could not use the power that came with it.”
Knuckles’ eyes go wide all of a sudden, like he suddenly gets an idea. He stares at me for a long time before taking my hand jamming it into his chest.
And then I feel so much better.
**********
“I saw what happened above ground. The armies… they had won. The machines were set up, and they were leading my people inside. It felt better know that not everyone was captured, but it still felt like I lost. And when they came back out… they were changed. They looked like cold out shells, and the thing is… they didn’t move. They weren’t alive anymore. And the ones leading the entire thing, the ones that looked like you, threw the shells into one big pile.”
I know what he’s talking about. The “shells” he spoke of were deactivated ‘bots, never meant to perform any task, save for providing energy.
“I saw Mighty captured by them, and the interrogation. They were... being rather harsh with him… and it looks like they had another one with them.”
I steer closer to him. The wind is blowing by at incredible speeds, drowning out the noise of our passing, and I don’t think I heard him correctly.
“Anyway, a ship flew in a little later and I got out of there, assuming that it was the leader. He was going to take over the interrogation, and I knew that sooner or later, they would come here.”
Light below him starts to come into focus. I clench my fists.
“What gets me is that they already knew where the Emeralds were held. They had no real need to torture him. They were just doing it for… fun.” The Echidna’s voice is filled with seething hatred. He doesn’t say anything else for the rest of the fall, only concentrating on orienting himself for a smooth landing. I do the same.
The Chaos Emeralds inside me have not kicked in yet. I only feel that same old sickness setting in, and I feel that soon I’ll lose even more than what I had.
I turn towards Knuckles in the rushing tunnel. I ask what I’m afraid to ask.
“Who else was with him?”
His eyes stay on the path ahead. He doesn’t look at me. “Someone I’ve never seen before. She looked… strong.”
“Was she…”
But I don’t finish.
And he doesn’t ask me to.
The place we are heading for is the Sky Sanctuary, following Robotnik. He says that if we’re quick enough we can stop him before his flying machines pick him up. He says that the place we’re headed for is an island hidden in the cover of the bigger island, and it moves so fast that it’s hard to pinpoint.
This is our last chance.
The Emeralds better start working soon.
**********
“SNIVELY!”
“What?!”
“What’s wrong with you? You’re being more retarded than usual.”
“What’s it to you, you little retarded half-breed?”
“You’re no good to me if you’re not in the moment.”
“Listen, kid, I wasn’t put here to entertain you. If anything, it’s the exact opposite.”
“In your dreams. The only way you’ll ever get me is if you pay for it.”
“Oops, I seem to have left my wallet in my other Sonic suit. How’s my credit?”
“As I hear from Rouge, about as good as Robotnik is at the pull-out method.”
“Look, as stimulating as this conversation is, I have a ship to call in. Don’t bother me or I’ll forget to bring you onboard.”
“Asshole…”
**********
“What are we doing here, Snively?”
“The doc called in. He said to meet us here. He said there was going to be trouble.”
“You think he got what he wanted?”
“What’s it to you?”
“What it’s to you why I want to know?”
“Must be genetic…”
**********
It’s still night when we emerge on the outside of the tunnel. An upward wind catches us and flings our helpless, frail bodies hard onto the Sky Sanctuary. We land in a field of stone and grass, but by now, pain is a close relative. Immediately, we both shake off the dizziness and we run.
“Where do you think he is?” I yell at him over the wind. I hear him laugh.
“We’ll follow them.” He points at the ground.
Zooming by all around us are dead bodies. Citizens of Angel Island graveyard. Their eyes all wide open, their skin a light blue, mouths agape, tongues hanging out. All with two large holes the size of walnuts on the front of each neck.
“If we find her, we find him.” His one hand moves to his neck and he rubs two scars there.
I look ahead again, where the sky on the horizon, almost obliterated by the island above, starts to lighten.
“Hey, when’s the sun coming up?!” I yell, almost tripping on a fallen tree when the terrain changes.
“In a few minutes, but we won’t see it since we’re on the dark side. It’ll be a couple of hours before it comes into view. Why?” His dreadlocks flap in the wind. He dives head first over a pile of stone, glides a little, then begins running again at my side.
When we reach a clearing in the woods, we run into some familiar faces…
The Chaotix.
But we’re moving too fast to notice. Their faces frozen in looks of surprise, they slowly turn towards us in our passing, but we outrun them and keep going.
I imagine it looks to them like a high gust of wind.
**********
It seems like hours later when we reach the apex of the body count, at the very edge of the stone forest, where there sits…
Damn.
“It’s been a long time, Knux…” She gets up off the rock, blood dribbling from her chin. Her daughter gets up too, staying behind her mother. The pile of bodies behind them stare at us in silent anticipation.
Shit.
“No, it hasn’t.” Knuckles whispers to me, “You take the metal one. The bat-bitch is mine.” He face remains neutral. “Get ready…”
Fuck.
Rouge throws her gun away, taking more steps towards Knuckles. Behind her, I see a giant shining…
Metala rockets immediately at me, hitting me in my chest and knocking me away from Knuckles. I outstretch my hand towards him, trying to stay with him, but he moves away too fast.
The last time I ever see him is when he takes a punch to the face.
My back hits a hard stone corner covered with vines. Metala lets me go and flies up for another pass. It’s dark, but the stone illuminates the area in an eerie glow. Metal glints above me and grows bigger when it comes down. I dive out of the way and she lands hard on the stone where my head was. Pieces fly everywhere.
She gets on the same solid ground as me. I stand up and watch her walk up to me and slash with her claws.
I vomit.
Blood flies out of my mouth and mixes with the green bile, and I can’t tell whether it’s because Metala just cut my cheek or because the Doctor really didn’t fix me.
Then I decide that it doesn’t matter.
I back away from her as she slashes at me, spinning around with a kick, then another swipe at my throat. Bile and blood stain her perfect metal face. The ground around us is painted with tiny bits of me. I barely move fast enough not to get hit, but soon I lose interest.
Her left claw slashes right at me. I dodge it.
Her foot sweeps for my feet. I jump.
Her head makes a move for my throat. I flip backwards.
But who cares?
It’s her.
I can’t fight back.
I can’t stop thinking about who she is.
Who she used to be.
What she used to mean to me.
How I took her for granted.
I stop backtracking. Her foot kicks me in the midsection and I fall to my knees. I vomit again. Piss pours out of me. There is no grass to catch me.
Metala stomps on my back one more time. I fall to my chest on the stone. It splinters beneath me. Or are those my bones breaking?
Out of the corner of my eye, the sun starts to come up over the edge of the small island, but is blocked out by the bigger one before I see any of it.
I start to cry.
“Get up!” Scratch yells.
This time, I stay down.
“You’re pathetic! You’re nothing, you hear me?! You make me SICK!” The chicken’s face morphs into a mirror image of me, holding a gun at my head. I stay huddled on the ground.
“Say goodnight, Sonic…”
Tails levels the gun, and it doesn’t shake at all. She pulls the trigger.
I die.
And no one misses me.
I wish.
Nothing is that easy.
Already I’m back in the theater, speaking to the raccoon, who leans over to my ear and whispers the truth in my ear…
No.
I’m not…
You’re lying!
But he never lies.
He’s right.
He is.
All this time…
Tails gets out of her seat, the same dead expression on her face, and she walks over to me and blocks my view of the dark screen. The only thing I can see of her is her glowing red eyes…
What does all of this mean?!!!
I kill myself.
I kill Tails.
Everyone dies.
Instead, the red Chaos Emerald appears in my hand. The one I first picked up. The same color as Knuckles. The same color as the sky in the morning. The same color as the evil one who knows me all too well. The same color as my blood. The same color as Shadow’s eyes. I think.
I bring this Emerald up…
Open-palmed, I swing it as hard as I can across Metala's face.
The Metala is smashed off of her, buckling like the soft shell of an egg, this gross and sickening sound that’s somewhere in between a squeal and a crunch, something that feels like glass entering my palm, something that looks like a mask that lives flying away, all of this happening so fast… and I see it.
For a moment… I catch it.
That sensational time in the village.
Déjà vu.
The moment is the right side of Sally's face. And as the tubes and wires, which used to identify her as Metala rip from her flesh, the moment leaves, so far away that I don’t even remember what it was.
Then, finally, I'm blinded by the amount of blood that flies across from that face. Too late to stop, I close my eyes and wait, since I’m used to doing that by now, and I know nothing can happen to me.
By the time I open them again, Sally stares at me from a mist of brain tissue and skin. Her metal shell covers the rest of her. She loses control of the body she’s attached to and falls to her knees, staring at me.
Her eyes well up in tears.
She’s free.
If you could call it that.
I kneel down and pick her up in my arms. Cradling her like I would an infant, I carry her up the steep incline of stone, to the very top, where I sit her upright towards the island.
She has a few moments left.
Her eyes fix on mine, and she smiles. Or what can be told as one.
i . . . . knew . . . . .you’d . . . . . save . . . . . .me.
Keeping my face neutral, I nod. “Yeah.
A piece of her face falls to the ground.
“are . . . .we . . . . . free . . . . ?
“Yeah, we’re free. We made it.
“ . . . . . . . good . . . . . .”
She starts sobbing hard, making even more of her face fall apart. I can see bone white and the pain of galaxies mashed together in one harmonious blend. Somehow she manages to smile again.
“i . . . . . . have . . . . . something . . . . . to . . . . . tellyou . . . . . . .”
“… I don’t care.” I sound like I’m as far away as she is. I pull my being towards the horizon, leaving the moment, catching up with the past and missing the stream that moves across my body.
I don’t hear her voice again.
I don’t know exactly when she died, but in my eyes, she died days before, when she was taken from me. I do not want to remember her like this. I never asked for a chance to say goodbye.
This is the reward for trying. You get exactly what you don’t ask for.
I push Sally’s body off the stone pile. Her smiling face disappears into the brush below.
I am alone again.
It’s better this way.
The sun rises over Angel Island.
I stare at it.
I don’t blink.
I study it for a long time.
I frown and close my eyes again.
It looks exactly the same…
The End of Friday
