A/N: This is a collab between me and the-enigma-machine. I played Sonic and she played Metal.
Sonic adjusted his expedition hat, holding it to his head with one hand while his minecart soared down the rails as if racing against Sonic himself. Sparks flew everywhere, nearly igniting as the wheels screeched against the rails.
This was why he loved exploring Lost Labyrinth.
He grasped the cart with both hands, skillfully jumping the minecart from one track to another. The gemstones and other assortments he had gathered from the area tinked against each other. Sonic smirked in satisfaction at the sound.
The rails swerved and bent in unnatural ways, worn down by hundreds of years of disrepair. Given how adventurous and knowledgeable he was, Sonic knew how to navigate an unyielding track.
He jumped tracks again, feeling the weight of the cart slam against the rails. The tracks shook but held tight. Sonic sped across them.
Sonic's tongue poked out the side of his mouth as he focused on the tracks ahead. He leaned as the curves became too severe for the minecart to balance on its own, and Sonic's quills whipped around wildly from the momentum.
This. This was the moment he loved the most: the adrenaline coursing through his body as he explored, the thrill of finding something unknown and grand. The bragging rights weren't bad, but the treasures themselves were still infinitely better.
The deeper Sonic went, the darker it grew. The torches he had lit before were becoming scarce. This was both good and bad. The good—he had never been down here before. The bad was…well, the obvious lack of visibility.
The minecart shook harshly against the rails, jostling Sonic against its back. He grabbed the sides of the cart for support, but the minecart continued to lurch.
The tracks plummeted downward at a severe angle, either by wonky supports or an ancient mobian who had attempted to invent the first roller coaster. Yet Sonic still sat in the minecart with all his collection surrounding him.
He held onto the cart with one hand, searching with the other through his collectibles for an unlit torch. At first, Sonic fumbled with it, but he eventually managed to lit it.
The flames flared. Lost Labyrinth's torches were special. They could maintain the flame much easier than any normal torch could.
Sonic tried to stand, to see anything in front of him. It was pitch-black all around him. He could see nothing but the minecart and the bit of track illuminated by the bright flame.
The tracks. They were so worn. Sonic knew he had to think fast.
The minecart shook again as the tracks shifted. Sonic yelped as the cart swerved to the side, the angled tracks driving it down.
His small sense of security evaporated as the tracks ended abruptly. The torch's limited light illuminated a hint of a wall and an oddly-placed floor that—
Everything—Sonic, the collectibles, the flames on the torch—they all shook as the minecart plowed into the wall. It jerked forward, forcing Sonic to the ground. The stone wall bricks crumbled. The torch flew out of Sonic's hand, rolling a few feet away.
Sonic laid on the ground for a long moment, still feeling the vertigo. He coughed. The dust from the collision was starting to clear. Sonic shook his head, attempting to stir his consciousness back to normal.
Behind him was a small opening. The minecart crash had torn through the wall, and on the other side, there was a brief section of was a gap, and the inside was different. That could only mean one thing: someone had sealed up a secret room with this wall.
But for what purpose? Sonic had to know.
He turned back, ignoring his scattered collectibles to search for his torch. It was still lit, a single flicker of flame against otherwise pitch darkness.
As Sonic grabbed it, the rest of the room came into view. There were ancient pillars and pale vines, but all of that was inconsequential compared to that hint of vibrant color.
Blue. Blue and gray. Such rare colors in a place consisting of tans, yellows, browns, and the occasional green.
Sonic scrambled to his feet, the adventurer inside him not even hesitating to walk forward and lift the torch higher.
The object—the thing—didn't move. Upon closer inspection, it looked akin to the robots Tails would make from Sonic's own treasures-turned-energy-source. However, this one was far more advanced than anything Tails could even dream of.
It was styled after a mobian, although its black optical screen and bolts betrayed its true nature. The insides of its ears and the surrounding panels of its chassis were yellow, matching the stone blocks of the Lost Labyrinth. It sat on the floor, looking completely offline.
Sonic leaned closer, squatting down in front of the robot in awe. He had found many things in his expeditions but never something so darn cool!
Any thought of the danger he went through to get here—or the danger in touching this sealed off robot for that matter—evaporated as he wrapped his arm around the robot. He lifted it up just slightly, just enough to get a sense of its weight. By the light of the torch in his other hand, the robot's armor shone slightly, although the still-settling dust kicked up from his 'grand entrance' clearly wasn't helping the matter.
A grin spread across Sonic's muzzle. He just had to get this robot cleaned up. He couldn't wait to see it in its full glory.
He turned, heading back to his minecart. He still had to regather his spilled, lesser treasure back into his large explorer bag.
He knew of a wellspring further up the labyrinth. Racing back there with both his treasure and the robot was no problem.
Sitting near the edge of the spring, Sonic prepared for his task. He held his supply bag with one hand, digging inside with the other. The stone blocks here were old but sturdy, and they easily supported both his and the robot's combined weight.
A soft fabric brushed his hand, and Sonic pulled out a rag. He dipped it into the cold spring water. He quickly dabbed at his own face but only a little. He wanted to save most of this rag for the robot.
Another dig into his bag returned his container of cleaning gel. Usually, this particular brand was meant for gemstones or various other objects, but it would have to do.
The rag glistened as he rubbed the gel in; it was as if he had dunked it in glitter.
He would make no mistakes.
He took a breath then placed his bag aside, edging closer to the robot. He held the soft cloth up. He leaned forward. He dapped the robot's armor. The robot began to tip over, but Sonic quickly wrapped his free arm around it as support.
He continued to clean. Dust and age vanished away from the robot. Its faded blue armor resurfaced vibrant and shiny as if Sonic's rag were a fresh paint brush, the wet gel blue paint.
Sonic's smile widened. He could always appreciate a beautiful, blue coat, given the blue color of his own fur.
The robot's blue was a little bit better though.
Time slipped from him as he worked away. Sonic was impatient, but he wasn't sloppy, and he took great care to clean the robot just as well as any other treasure.
After an unknown amount of time, he finished. He sat the robot up again, grinning at his work. It looked amazing.
Sonic removed one of his gloves, sliding his clean hand along the robot's muzzle. His fingers slid easily, detecting no resistance from dirt or grime. It felt as good as it looked.
He rested his palm against the robot's cheek, admiring the bolt with a gentle stroke of his thumb.
This was easily his best treasure.
The hum was gentle. Sonic would have hardly noticed it, not over the dripping of the wellspring. But Lost Labyrinth was cramped, and that amplified the sound. This hum, faint it may be, was consistent.
Consistent.
And coming from the robot.
Sonic's ears flickered at the sound, his hand never leaving the robot's cheek. He leaned close, listening to the soft sound.
This robot...did it still work?
Sonic eyed the robot's face. Did he do this?
Curious, he stroked the bolt again.
The humming was so intense the robot seemed to nearly vibrate beneath his fingers. It grew and grew until it was loud enough to overpower even the roar of the water itself.
Then, all at once, it stopped.
The robot's optics flickered to life. Two deep, red ovals flashed across the screen, seeming to pierce through Sonic's awareness itself.
Sonic flinched. He pulled his hand back as if touching the robot were rude.
"U-uh... hello?" he greeted. There was a curious excitement in his chest.
For a long time, the robot merely stared at him, studying Sonic as if an exhibit in a museum: a strictly academic problem that, with enough research, would dissolve from sheer mystery into something easily manageable.
Then the robot turned its glance toward Lost Labyrinth and the cavern of decaying pillars.
It spoke. "Please state your identity."
Sonic's eyes practically sparkled. This robot could talk! He grinned, leaning forward with his adventurer's enthusiasm. No one had ever seen him so excited.
No one except this robot.
"Sonic the Hedgehog! Fastest thing alive, destroyer of chili dogs, and best adventurer there ever was."
He eyed the robot up and down. "And you?"
The robot cocked his head, gazing at Sonic with both bewilderment and curiosity. "Sonic, destroyer of Chili Dogs? I am not aware of these hounds you called Chili Dogs, but by your description, they sound most fearsome."
The robot shook his head. "But you do not know of me? That is most unusual. I had thought the Council made my presence known to everyone. It is a part of the protocol, after all."
"Council?" Sonic echoed. He then paused, piecing the mental puzzle together. His mouth dropped open, smile fading. "O-oh, uh—"
He hummed, staring down into the wellspring. "Yeah, I dunno how long you were down in that little sealed off place, but you're practically in the future."
The robot stared at Sonic with a single, calculating stare. The red lines that made up his eyes wavered slightly.
Then he looked down at his hands.
"Everyone who used to be here..." Sonic frowned as he gestured around them. He didn't want to say it, but he needed to be honest. "They're gone. They've been gone for a long time."
The robot's silence spoke louder than any words. But, like the ancient civilization itself, the silence couldn't last forever.
The robot picked up a fallen brick, turning it over in his hands. "Where did they go?"
"I don't know," Sonic admitted. "They all died a long time ago. No one knows exactly what happened to them."
Sonic turned and grabbed his bag of collectibles, picking it up and presenting it to the robot.
"I'm just an explorer, so I'm just here to pick up treasures or anything that might hint at what happened."
Reverently, the robot placed the brick back on the ground. "So you do not know what happened to this place? Do you know how long it has been? What year is it now?"
"Um..."
Sonic thought for a moment then dug through his supply bag. He pulled out a tiny calendar and laid it flat in his hands so the robot could see. The boxes for the days were crammed with the scribbles of his future adventure plans, but the year was plain and clear.
The robot paused, his optics flickering. Eventually, he held his hand out to Sonic, who place the calendar gingerly on the robot's palm. The robot held it for a moment then began to flip through the pages. As soon as he reached the end, he flipped back to the first page.
"Your temporal administration system differs from ours. This is difficult to understand. But…" The robot trailed his finger down the seam of the calendar, his gaze darting between the dates. "But considering the movements of the celestial bodies, correlated with the repetition of numbers…"
He lowered the calendar. His gaze wasn't quite looking at Sonic.
"It has been approximately 1,032 solar rotations."
"One thousand..." Sonic trailed off with an impressed whistle. He hadn't even been around for those last thirty-two years. "And you were hulled up in that room all that time?"
With a slow turn of his wrist, the robot returned the calendar to Sonic. "I was offline during that time, so I do not know exactly. But I assume the answer to your query is affirmative."
"Oh."
The reality of the current situation dawned on Sonic. While the robot was still his greatest treasure, it was sentient. Sonic wasn't exactly complaining—a self-aware robot was incredibly cool—but he had no idea what he was supposed to do with a sentient robot.
"So…what are you gonna do?" Sonic rubbed his head. "Sorry, maybe I shouldn't've tried to wake you up?"
The robot gave Sonic a pointed glare. "Sorry? Why would you be sorry? My awakening is exactly what is required to fulfill my objective. I could never complete it while offline."
"Uh, I guess?" Sonic asked, not fully understanding. He awkwardly toyed with his neckerchief. "Just...I bet it's pretty shocking to know that everyone you knew isn't around anymore."
The robot looked away. "That...that is most troubling, yes. I will not deny that. But…"
He trailed off, studying the vines that clung to the ceiling. "But this does give me a unique opportunity."
Stepping past Sonic, the robot gestured toward a worn path ahead of them. It was in such utter disrepair that distinguishing between path and rubble was nearly impossible. "I do not know the timespan between my inactivation and the fall of the civilization, but if my memory banks are correct, the location down this path should offer us insight."
Sonic stared down the path, feeling a sad disappointment forming in his stomach. Of course, he wanted to know what happened here and if there was anything else to find, but...
He wanted to know about the robot more.
"So you're just gonna stay here then?" Sonic asked.
The robot's feet scraped against the pebbles and crumbled bricks as he took a step toward the path. "Stay here? What do you mean? Where else is there to go?"
Sonic shrugged. "Everywhere? There's a whole world outside this labyrinth."
The robot paused for a moment, optics flickering. He then straightened his back.
"I suppose I have not introduced myself to you. You said your identifier is Sonic?"
Sonic nodded, a little too quickly. "Yeah?"
The robot mimicked Sonic's nod, trying his best to mirror the gesture exactly. "While my formal identifier is much longer, you may call me by what my creators nicknamed me: Metal."
"Metal," Sonic repeated, rolling the name off his tongue to see how it tasted.
He smiled. "I like it. Easy to remember."
Sonic stood up, slinging his bag of collectibles over his shoulder. It clearly weighed a lot, but he lifted it with ease. "You could come hang out at my place if you want? Wouldn't it get boring being here?"
Metal looked over his shoulder. The path ahead was littered with rubble. "An interesting offer. I suppose it would be problematic to stay down here by myself."
A pause. "I have never been outside this city. It was not why I was created, you see."
"Really?" Sonic grinned at the opportunity. "Come on then, I'll show you."
He pointed to Metal's back. "Can you fly with that? I'll race you out!"
"You will...race me?" Metal looked at Sonic curiously. "I can fly, yes. Is this a customary practice of the modern world?"
"No. It's just for fun!"
Sonic lifted his supply bag around his shoulder and grinned. "Ready to lose, Metal?" he challenged with a playful smile. He was only egging Metal on.
Metal beeped quietly. He looked back to the path. Then his gaze wandered to the ceiling above. "I suppose I can always return to this place. I have always been curious about the world beyond the city."
Sonic grinned wider. "That a yes?"
Metal nodded slowly. "It is a statement of affirmation, yes."
"Cool! Let's go. On three!"
Sonic bent down, getting into a ready stance and sticking his tongue out to the side of his mouth.
A millennium of standby mode may have disabled him temporarily, but his internal diagnostics indicated his systems were still operational. So Metal revved his engine once, tentatively warming up. He then leaned over, bracing himself for launch.
Just to his side, Sonic was leaning down too, his weight in his heels, his legs taunt for rapid acceleration. It was an optimal sort of posture—similar to the one Metal had studied from his civilization's top athletes all those years ago.
Metal was an archival robot. He discovered facts, processed facts, and categorized facts. But what use was an encyclopedia if he did not share his knowledge?
"Your racing posture is most aesthetically pleasing," Metal said.
Sonic stiffened then looked over at Metal. "U-uh...thanks?"
Gratitude. Yes, that was a standard response when Metal had correctly categorized something, and so his response to this moment must have been accurate. Years it may have been, but Metal's abilities were as acute as ever.
There was still the matter of the race, however. Sonic had stopped counting.
Perhaps this implied Metal was meant to carry the countdown? Sonic had already said three, so—
Metal continued, "Two. One. Go!"
With a single burst of his engine, Metal launched himself into the air. His engine was red and hot, and he glowed faintly against the dim cavern.
"Uh—hey!"
Sonic groaned, partly at himself for missing the cue, then took off after Metal.
That was so unfair.