A/N: Good morning, everyone! Or afternoon or evening!
Sword: *tingles with excitement*
We've had this story on the backburner for some time. It's a bit of an experiment for us. Hopefully it works as we would like to give all of you a good story. Sword?
Sword: Silver, Blaze, and all related material belong to Sega. The story, me, and Pen belong to the author. Please do not use without permission. Thank you! Move it! On with it!
What's got you so excited?
Sword: Pen and me are building something to go along with this story. Speaking of, I better go find him. *walks off*
Oh, that's nice…Wait, you and Pen? Sword? Sword! Come back!
Chapter 1- A Dead World
Fire. Fire and screaming. Every night, when I close my eyes, that's all I see. The same nightmare, surrounded by terrified people, running for their lives from chaos and destruction. Sometimes, I see my parents in the crowd, or friends I've known forever, all of us fleeing our village. Other times, it's strangers and I'm caught up in the rush as they barrel toward the capital's gate, hoping that the mighty walls and tall towers meant to protect them don't crumble and bury them in a pile of rubble.
Always, I'm focused on moving forward. There's nothing ahead but a desolate wasteland of trees burnt to ash, craggy valleys that used to be rivers and lakes, and a blood-red sky. I don't pay attention to the smell of bodies engulfed in flames or the desperate cries of people pleading for mercy. Anyone who falls and isn't trampled is left behind for the inevitable.
Every time, I'm always the last one running, the last one alive, and my legs give out as if they're about to snap off. I collapse, my chest cold like it's frozen solid despite the unbearable heat all around.
Then a demonic roar behind me. I turn and there are a pair of eyes, red pits of fire and hate, rushing toward me with a maw open wide and about to swallow me whole.
And I wake up. My bed soaked in sweat and I sit on the edge of the old, moth-eaten mattress until sunrise.
I think the reason why dreams like mine are called nightmares is because we have no control. Any scenario you can imagine—falling through the sky, chased by a maniac, a monster stalking you—one thing in common is that you have no control. You can't turn around and do something about it. I can't stop and save my parents and friends. I can't try a different tactic and hide from my pursuer. I can't even turn around and fight.
No, our brain tells us we're scared and that all we can do is flail and run for our lives from whatever horror it's picked to scare us with. All we can hope for is that the conscious part of our brain steps in and wakes us up to realize it was a bad dream before we're driven insane with fear.
Realizing it's all a dream would be comforting if when I woke each morning, the sun didn't rise on the hellish landscape from the dream. But there it is outside my window today, just like it is every day. Hot wind like a desert rolls in, blasting my face with dust, and its barely morning.
I stood and stretched, then trotted down the stairs to the kitchen. Calling it a kitchen was being generous. A pantry stuffed with canned food, meat kept in a freezer, and an old sink and stove. Brain still struggling to escape dreamland, I heated a can of vegetables on the stove, dumped them in a bowl on the table, and ate in the dark. We had to conserve all the electricity and candles we could afford.
Gardon stumbled in next, cracking his back and rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. Age was taking his toll on him. The short koala seemed to age twice as fast before my eyes everyday, although he wasn't that much older. Then again, this world sapped the life and years out of you.
Even with a stoop to his back, Gardon walked in the same military fashion he had for years, never losing that stride. He heated up some vegetables as well and sat across from me. "Morning," he said, digging into his food.
Dr. Eggman Nega was the last to come down after we finished. He was a man as round as he was tall, with grey whiskers and cold, beady eyes staring down a red nose. He grumbled to himself, ransacked whatever old food he could find, and plopped beside us.
"So," Gardon said, prompting him.
"So," Nega said, swallowing a bite and wiping his mouth, "This morning, my drones located the last crucial piece. A battery to power the machine." He pulled a tiny robot out of his deep coat pocket. It looked like a smooth, hand-sized cannonball in the dark. He pressed a button on top of it and the drone displayed a blue holographic map of the surrounding area. "Here," Nega said, swiping upwards on the map and pointing to a large object. "One of my old ships. 30 kilometers north of here."
"That's not too bad," Gardon said.
"No more trips after this?" I raised an eyebrow.
"That's right," Nega said, shoveling another forkful in. "I can create all the other pieces I need. I just need this battery and we'll have enough power to run it."
"How large is it? Be precise," I said. "Last time, we barely made it back. If Iblis had been on us—"
"It's small," Nega said. "About the size of your head, hedgehog, and filled with something useful for a change." I frowned and dumped my bowl in the sink. "It's light enough too. But it holds a massive charge."
"How will we power it up? Surely it can't have any power after this long."
"I can rig it to the generator," he said. "Should take one night."
"We already take enough risks with the buggy. But a whole night of advertising our home?" I said. That was the other reason we conserved power. Moving around outside and using energy was one thing. We always had home to come back to and hide out. Yet if Iblis took notice—I shuddered and brushed the thought from my mind.
"I can run the generator on low power," Nega said. "Maybe I can scrounge around nearby and build something to muffle its energy output."
I looked to Gardon, but he shrugged. "It's our best shot."
Two hours later, Gardon and I were in the steel trap buggy of death that rumbled like it would fall apart going over any hill. We probably could've walked or I could've flown us, but I wanted to be in and out quickly. That and I didn't trust Nega's estimates of the battery. Hot, harsh wind blew sand in our faces, making us grateful for the thick clothes wrapped around our heads and bodies and our sturdy goggles.
In the distance, I could just make out the ruins of a village. A broken tower was toppled over and several homes were smashed to bits. It reminded of my own village, before all this happened. A towering mill on the edge of town, the market street where every morning the town sprung to life as shops opened—
"We're here," Gardon said and we pulled alongside a crashed airship, as large as if a mountain had topped over. We stopped in front of a mammoth-sized hole, already filled with sand piles. We hopped out of the buggy and climbed in. When we had escaped the sandy winds, we loosened our cloaks and lifted out goggles.
We flipped on our flashlights and Gardon pulled out a walkie-talkie. "Okay, where is it?"
"Lowest floor, port side. You'll see a room with a lot of engines," Nega's voice said. "The battery may be in one of them. It's a cylinder with a blue handle."
"Got it," he said. He pulled out a small tracking device that Nega had locked onto the battery's coordinates, with a flashing red light at the top of the screen beeping softly. Letting the light lead, we marched forth.
As we searched for a ladder or other way down to the first floor, Gardon tried to make small talk. "Sure will be great to be back again." I hummed a response. I wasn't in the mood to discuss it, but Gardon continued. "I wonder if the Princess will still want me as Captain of the Guards?" he said.
We found a hatch and I opened it, letting him down. "I know I've been out of it for these past ten years, but I'd say I've kept fit. Wouldn't you say?"
"Yeah." The ladder ended on the second floor. Maybe there was another ladder at the end of this new hall.
"What about you?" he asked. "Going to go back to your village?"
"I don't know," I said, opening a door. Storage closet. I sighed, irritated and still sleepy. All these doors looked the same.
"What do you mean 'you don't know'?" he asked. "Don't you want to see your family again?"
"Except it's not my family!" I snapped. He recoiled and I grunted, shutting the door. "We're going to another dimension, not back in time. There's already another me with his own family. There's already another you already protecting the Princess."
"Silver," he said, laying a hand on my shoulder. "It's still another chance to have a home."
"I know," I said, checking another door. Bingo. The ladder. Gardon held me back and I sighed. "I know. But I wish we could fix all this. I wanted to stay here, fight, rebuild. Not run away. The best thing we can do in another dimension is live like hermits."
"We can have a good life," Gardon said. "Maybe travel the world, see other cities and exotic places. That doesn't sound so bad, does it?" If I was being honest with myself, it didn't. It sounded like a vacation. Perhaps even another chance at an ordinary life. Gardon held his flashlight closer and his face grew serious. "And we owe it to everyone else to warn them and help them avoid our fate."
"Yeah," I said, climbing down the ladder.
"I know I would do it for the Princess, even if she's technically not my Princess," he said, following me. "Wouldn't you do the same for your parents, whether they're yours or belong to another version of you?"
I stopped, shaking away the nightmare from this morning. "You're getting too philosophical for me."
"Perhaps. But that doesn't answer my question."
"Of course I would. That's the only reason I agreed to Nega's plan is to warn everyone else. Now let's find this battery."
Gardon smiled. "There's the spirit."
"Are you two finished chatting yet?" Nega said. Gardon sheepishly removed his finger from the call button. "Don't tarry out there."
"I do have one more question, Nega" I said, sweeping my beam down the hall. "I'm still not clear on how this whole dimension-hopping thing works." A rat skittered past us. "You said it was the Multiverse Theory?"
Nega grumbled and something metal tinged in the background. He swore and I was sure he said something about "stupid hedgehog" under his breath. "I've explained this already."
"You're not doing anything constructive."
"As a matter of fact, I am, rodent."
"Humor us," Gardon said. "I'd like a refresher too."
"Alright, alright," Nega said, setting down some tool. "So, theoretically, there are multiple universes, okay?"
"Other dimensions of us," Gardon said.
"Right. There are many universes with many possibilities, many timelines. These universes are always splitting when any decision is made. So in one universe, if you decide to have coffee for breakfast, then in another universe, you'll have tea."
"And if in one universe you release Iblis, in another universe, you won't," I finished.
"Correct," Nega said with an edge to his tone. "So there are universes where I never released Iblis and others where I did, but the day was saved one way or another. Once I have the battery and have charged my machine and calculated it, we can travel to an earlier universe still behind us, where Iblis is set to be released, but hasn't been yet. And we can prevent it from being released, thereby stopping it from destroying the world. This should spread to universes that split off from it, creating more universes where the world is saved. I wonder if it could have a ripple effect across universes already split from it," he said, musing to himself. "Or similar universes."
"But I thought you said we couldn't time-travel," I said, heading down a corridor. The sand hadn't reached this area yet, but it was hot and stuffy. "So how can we travel to an earlier universe?"
"Because the universes are splitting constantly. While ours continues to go on, others are being born every second. So there are still ones prior to Iblis that can be saved."
"But it won't save ours."
"No," Nega said, grunting and another ting echoed on his end. "No, it won't. Why? Having second thoughts about this suicidal plan? It's not too late to go to a safe universe."
"No," I said. "No, we're doing this. If we can save anyone from our fate, we're doing it."
"Suit yourself. Like I said, it's still a theory, so it may not work anyway."
"Well, we'll find your battery and put it to the test. Silver out."
We finally found the engine room and opened the door. Large machines a floor below us stretched for the stairwell we were on. In each direction, my light disappeared into empty darkness.
Gardon waved the tracker around and pointed to our left. "This way," he said. The stairs were long and I didn't trust his legs. I raised my hand and light glowed in the palm of my white glove, brightening into circular designs. Soon, Gardon and I were outlined in a teal glow and hovered in the air. "Wha?" he said and I smiled. I carried us over the stair railing and down to the floor in the row between all the machines.
When we landed, Gardon stumbled forward and shot me a dirty look. "I hate it when you do that."
"You have to stop and take pleasure in the little things," I said, helping him up. "Come on. Let's find that battery."
I should've been excited to find this battery. It was the last piece and then we would be out of this horrible place. However, I couldn't shake the feeling that something was off with Nega. He had found us almost a year ago and had begged for forgiveness, wanting to make amends. Hence his time—sorry, universe traveling machine and willingness to help stop himself in the other timeline.
He hadn't done anything bad that I could put my finger on. He could have a short fuse, but who didn't when you're one of the last people left alive. And he was helpful, providing us with plenty of gadgets, such as the buggy, and helping with some amenities, like electricity and clean running water.
There was still something wrong though. Maybe it was that I couldn't stop reminding myself that this was his fault. Or that even before Iblis, I often heard stories of his evil. Gardon confirmed most of those stories. "Yes, he often attacked our country and sought to take it over. But what's there to take over now?" True words, but they didn't help.
I shoved the thought aside. Had to find the battery. We scoured the machines, climbing into their innards and pulling apart rusted bits of metal and gears, frayed wires, computer circuits, and Nega only knew what else. We finally found it in one of the smaller machines. I dusted it off and brought it into the light.
"Cylindrical," Gardon noted.
"With a blue handle," I said, hefting it up.
Gardon pulled out the walkie-talkie. "Nega, we got it."
"Then hurry up. Time's wasting," he said.
I tucked the battery into a pocket in the folds of my clothes. " 'Thanks for the congratulations, Nega,' " I said, then puffed my cheeks and harrumphed with my chest out. " 'Yes, couldn't have done it without you two. Really couldn't since I never stick my neck out and am too fat to leave home.' "
"Come on. Let's just get back to the buggy," Gardon said. Although he tried to hide his curled lips.
We floated back to the top of the stairs and had one foot out of the room when we heard it. A low, trembling roar in front of us. A demonic roar that sent me into a cold sweat as if I was back in my nightmare.
Gardon licked his lips and named my fear in a whisper. "Iblis."
A/N: Hm, this was a bit shorter than I thought.
Pen: *rolls eyes* Oh, no. Could the story possibly go off the rails? Like all of the stories you two write?
Sword: Yes! And we will ride it to the ground.
Uh, let's not. And I still want to know what you two are building.
Sword: It's a surprise! Oh, also, thank all you peoples for reading! We hope you enjoy it so far! Please let us know what you think of the story. Ta-ta!