"So, is this, like, goodbye?"

"No. Not really. Like I said, we've got our eye on you."

Connor—out of his Sonic form and sitting in his wheelchair—and General Serkins were standing in a damp alleyway, behind crumbly old buildings. The FBI was smart to hide Sonic there. The general stood in front of Connor, his face stern but proud.

"Is the military afraid of me?" Connor asked. "Do they think I'm… a threat?"

"Only a minor one," replied the general. An expression of compassion was beginning to seep through his face, but he quickly wadded up his lips and eyes, and his expression was back to serious. "Look, Connor. I'm not your friend. I'm not your pal or your buddy or your… uh, 'homie.' I'm like your parole officer, but except you're not a criminal. I'm your supervisor. If you screw up, I will call you out on it. Screw up twice, and-"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Connor interrupted. "You'll send Seal Team 6 out for me."

The general started talking again, but Connor saw something out of the corner of his eye. He saw two people—a man and a woman—standing on the other side of the alleyway. He whisked his head to the side to look at them directly, but they… were gone?

"Something the matter, Connor?" he heard the general say.

"Yeah. Did you see those two people over there?" He pointed to the end of the alley, where three buildings met.

"Er, no," the general said.

"What? Two people were there! A man and a woman! You didn't see them?"

"Nope. You might be seeing things, Connor."

"What?" Connor wheeled over to the spot the two people were. He looked around, but only saw a dumpster and three brick walls surrounding him. He cracked open the dumpster and peered inside. He only saw a bunch of black garbage bags filled with trash. He sat back in his wheelchair and rubbed his forehead with both hands while he thought.

Am I really seeing things? I could've sworn that those people were right here! They looked real…

"Connor!" called the general. "Get back over here!"

The teen reluctantly turned his wheelchair to where Serkins was and rolled over to him. "I know something was there…" he whispered.

The general spoke up. "Do we have a deal? You're free as long as you behave yourself?"

"Yes."

The general nodded. "My work here is done, then." He started walking off, but then turned back to the teen. "Need a ride home?"

"I'll get myself home," Connor assured him. He waved at Serkins as he watched him turn around the corner and disappear.

I know what I saw, thought Connor. And what I saw were… my parents!

Connor had turned into Sonic when no one was looking, and was now leaping from rooftop to rooftop. Empire City had a district simply called the French District. There, buildings were structured to be no more than five stories tall and have long, flat rooftops. Sonic had affectionately nicknamed this district "Rooftop Run." His hops were becoming just what he needed: short, quick, and small. There were similar to that of a runner jumping over hurdles. Hopping let him jump over small gaps without losing any momentum. He hopped from roof to roof like a staircase, then jumped into the middle of the street. Slowing down considerably, he made a U-turn at an intersection and ran into an alley. He zoomed through alley after alley, precisely dodging walls or other obstacles by doing what he called the "quick step," where he could swiftly step to left or right without stopping, but he had to be running in one direction. He Quick Stepped into gaps between walls, and if there was a dumpster in his way, he simply used his polished hop technique to jump over it.

Sonic knew he was running nowhere near the speeds he was capable of. He got back onto the street and sped off. The surrounding whooshed past him in a blur of mixed color, but the path ahead of him was perfectly clear, although narrow. And through his path crossed a semi truck pulling a trailer. Sonic panicked. If he ran into the semi or the trailer, he would bust right through them. What if he sent them flying? How much force did he have at the speed he was going? He would get his first warning from General Serkins only an hour after they said goodbye!

Crap, Sonic thought, then made a quick judgment call, letting his instincts take over. He stopped running and slid along the street, his feet out in front of him. Sliding slowed him down, but not enough to make him stop. The trailer was in front of him now. He closed his eyes and slid under it. The semi blared its horn as he zipped underneath the trailer. Sonic slid a few more yards then stopped. He spread out his arms and looked up at the sky, flat on his back.

"Phew! Good call," he told himself.

"I don't understand why you want me to do this, Connor."

"C'mon, Miles! I wanna see how fast I can go."

Connor and Miles were standing on the track behind the school on a cold, bleak afternoon. Connor and his wheelchair were in the middle of the track, the white lines separating it into sections. Miles, however, was off to side, holding a stopwatch. "Uh, okay… Tell me what I'm doing again?"

"You're gonna time me. I'm gonna make one lap around the track, and you're gonna tell me how long it takes."

"How will you know when to stop?"

"Believe me, I'll know."

"Okay..."

Connor hopped down his wheelchair and stared down the track. He stood there a long time, waiting. He looked at Miles and said, "Well?"

"Huh? Oh! Yeah, sorry!" Miles fumbled with the stopwatch in his hands. "Do I tell you when to go?"

"Yep."

Miles positioned his thumb over the button. He looked at Connor with determination, like he was about to work harder than his friend. "Ready… Set… Go!"

Connor almost instantly transformed into Sonic and surged forward at, to him, an extremely fast speed. Everything around him was blurry, but the path ahead of him was clear. Once his wheelchair was in view, he skidded to a halt and almost instantly turned back into Connor. He looked at Miles with a smile, very proud of himself. "Well?"

"Okay… Uh, three seconds!"

"What?!" Connor shrieked. "Are you sure? It should've been, like, one second! Or half a second! But three?!"

"That's what it says."

"You did something wrong," Connor said accusingly.

"No I didn't. I pushed start right when I said go, and I pushed stop right before you sat back in your wheelchair."

"Nooo! No, no, no, no, no, no, nononononono no!" wailed Connor.

Miles tried not to laugh at his little temper tantrum. "Why's your speed so important?"

"Because I'm Sonic The Freakin' Hedgehog!" Connor whined. "I need to be fast! I need to be faster! I need to be fastest!"

"Connor, chill. Three seconds isn't bad at all. One lap around the track in that time? Usain Bolt couldn't do that!"

Connor sighed. "I guess you're right…"

He gazed down the track. He nearly jumped out of his seat when he saw a man and a woman just like the ones from the alley strolling down the track. He could barely make them out. The woman was pretty, and the man was slightly nerdy. His parents… It was his parents! They were alive after all! How did they know he was here? Connor was about to call out to them when Miles' voice rang into his ear.

"Hello? Connor? Con-con? Conny?"

Connor felt like he was just pulled out of a tornado. He only stared at Miles, trying to figure out how to recognize his best friend. He blinked and regrouped. "H-hey, Miles! Look!" He pointed to where his mom and dad were, but they were gone.

Miles was silent for a moment. "What am I supposed to be looking at here?" he asked.

"Weird…" Connor said. "They were there… I saw 'em!"

"Saw what? I wanna see! Is it a girl who will actually ask me out?"

Connor began rubbing his stumps. They were there, he thought. Where do they keep going?

"If it's not a girl, I'm gonna go, then," he heard Miles say.

Tears were almost pouring out of Connor's eyes. "Fine. Go."

"Alright. See ya!" Miles was gone just as quickly as Connor's parents. Connor didn't watch him go. He just stayed there, in the middle of the track, during a cold, bleak afternoon, alone.