The tunnel sloped steadily downward, never branching or twisting, always leading them further and further into the depths. The glowing crystals on the walls helpfully illuminated the path like the lights on a runway. The whole set-up made Pretzel uncomfortable; it felt like an invitation, and an invitation was really just another kind of trap. But they didn't have a choice. Ignoring the problem wouldn't fix things, and the root of the problem was here, deep in the Earth.
Why are you here?
What do you think you can do?
You will fail, as you have failed before.
The voices. They had started echoing in her mind when they entered the tunnel, and they'd only gotten louder as they walked deeper. It was getting old.
"So," Whip broke the silence between them, clearly making an effort to keep his voice light despite his rampant nerves. He'd never liked the dark, yet he hadn't hesitated to volunteer for this journey. Would that she had his courage. "Are we actually walking to the center of the Earth, or is this like some sort of weird dream? Is any of this even real?"
"I don't think anyone else could come here," Pretzel said, glancing around. "So in that sense no, it isn't real. But we're Gaias. We're made of energy. Physical forms are just a formality with us. Even if this place wouldn't be real to anyone else, to us it is."
Whip nodded as if that made perfect sense. Which it did, to Pretzel, but she got the feeling it would not have seemed nearly so natural to anyone who wasn't, well, them. There was a lot of new information in her mind now since getting absorbed by Twist, and she still wasn't sure what to make of it. Had Twist known all this, or had getting absorbed somehow unlocked it in Pretzel's mind?
You aren't real. You're just another fragment.
A monster, like us.
Pretzel grit her teeth. Just keep walking. Ignore the voices. Was she going insane? Maybe she'd always been insane. Maybe she was actually just some normal person locked away in an asylum somewhere, hallucinating this entire experience. Wouldn't that be nice.
"Stop it!" Whip shouted, and Pretzel jumped in surprise. He wasn't yelling at her, though; he was shouting at… the wall? The ceiling? The tunnel itself? "Stop whispering at me!"
"You can hear them too?" Pretzel asked.
"Yeah, and it's really annoying!" Whip stomped his foot. "Stop saying mean things in my head and come out and face us!"
"I don't think—" Pretzel started, but stopped short as the shadows shifted.
Six figures formed in the darkness ahead of them. Three seemed to form from the shadows, while the other three were made of bright light, drawn from the crystals around them. They took a moment to settle, details appearing and figures shaping until six fragments blocked the tunnel ahead of them. Four of them were familiar—Hurricane, Dust Devil, Midnight, and Sunshine—while two were strangers. They looked like Mobians, a wolf and a lion, which put her in mind of Twist and Nova. Not a good sign.
Pretzel drew back with a hiss. She had no idea how Hurricane and Dust Devil could fit in the tunnel (it certainly hadn't seemed big enough before, and she had to remind herself of what she'd just told Whip about this place's relative "real"ness), but fighting both of them at once in closed quarters seemed like a recipe for disaster. Still, they needed to progress down the tunnel. Pretzel glanced from the Dark fragments to the Light fragments. Could she get them to—
"Pretzel, wait," Whip said, laying a hand on her arm. "I don't think they want to fight." He smiled at the Dark fragments. "Those three helped me find you."
Pretzel hesitated, eyeing the fragments warily. "If they don't want to fight, why are they here?"
Do you hate us that much?
It was Midnight who'd spoken. He looked at her sadly, like a child rejected by their parent—which, Pretzel realized, wasn't entirely inaccurate. This was a piece of her, and here she was, assuming it wanted a fight. She looked at the other fragments. They were all watching her, waiting.
"I don't hate you," Pretzel said quietly.
She walked over to Midnight and extended her hand. He held out his hand next to hers, the pale underside just a shade bluer than Pretzel's. Hers had become that color after she absorbed him, when she'd understood him for what he was. He'd wanted darkness so he, and all those like him, could have the freedom to play. A childish wish, perhaps, even a selfish one. But not evil.
Pretzel looked up at Hurricane, who had moved their head down to be closer to her level, nose brushing her ear. The blue, fin-like protrusions on their head were tinged purple by the crystals. Pretzel raised her hand to touch the fins on the side of her own head. Those, and the one on her back, had appeared after she accepted Hurricane. They'd wanted to level cities so the world could heal. The method was undeniably harmful, but the pain and the anger that had led to it— that she understood very well.
Pretzel looked at them both, these pieces of herself. Together they represented Dark Gaia's desire for darkness and destruction, her playfulness and her protection, her selfishness and her rage. They'd messed up. They'd done stupid things. But that was what they needed her for. And she needed them.
"You're not monsters," Pretzel said. "Or villains. You're part of me. And I'm glad to have you."
Midnight smiled. Hurricane hummed. And then they both disappeared, returning to their proper place. Pretzel closed her eyes, savoring the rush of cool energy as something settled within her, like a piece slotting back into place.
Pretzel blinked her eyes open and looked at Whip. He glanced at the Light fragments, then back at her. She nodded. They were part of Whip, the same as Hurricane and Midnight were part of Pretzel. He needed them. And she didn't need to fear them, or him. He knew the truth now, fully, about the both of them. And still he'd found her in the dark and asked her to come home again. Still he'd wanted to be her brother.
After that, what was there left to fear?
"I understand now," Whip said, looking up at his fragments. "I know who I am. And I know you're part of me." He took a deep breath. "You've done some bad things. We all have. But you've also done good things." He glanced at Pretzel. "I guess… I guess it's not about good guys and bad guys. It's about what we do next." He smiled up at the fragments. "So let's work together from now on, okay?"
Sunshine smiled back, while Dust Devil purred. Then they bothdisappeared, returning to pure white light. Whip gasped softly as the light poured into him. For a moment he was almost bright enough to be blinding, but then the light died down, settling within him. Pretzel felt strangely sorry to see it go. In that moment, the tunnel had seemed somehow safer, more welcoming. She'd never gotten that feeling from light before.
Two fragments remained. Pretzel looked up at the wolf, frowning. "Who—"
"That's Black!" Whip bounded over to join her. He beamed at the wolf, who smiled back. A much smaller smile, but to be fair few people could match Whip's face-stretching grins anyway. "He helped me find you."
"And him?" Pretzel asked, looking at the other fragment. He met her gaze with a bright grin. He was a white lion with a golden mane, green eyes, and a red and gold sun emblazoned on his forehead. He reminded her of the Hedgecat, but unlike Nova he didn't seem threatening. Just friendly in an affable, innocently clueless way.
"I'm White!" the lion said cheerfully, bouncing on his heels. "It's nice to meet you!"
"Black and White?" Whip said, looking from the wolf—whose expression had soured now that White had joined the conversation—to the lion. "Are you guys related?"
White grinned, shooting Black a teasing look. "You could say that."
Black rolled his eyes.
Pretzel looked between the two fragments, frowning. They didn't look like the others. They were more fully Mobian than even Twist and Nova had been, and though they had some of the same general features as their fellow fragments, there was also something… more. They seemed less like pure pieces of the Gaias and more like they'd been mixed with something—or someone—else. Looking at them, Pretzel had a niggling feeling of familiarity. White's teasing grin… Black's annoyed eye roll… She'd seen those both somewhere before. And they both had green eyes. Why weren't White's eyes amber, like Whip's?
"Sonic," Pretzel realized. "You're the Gaia energy we gave to Sonic, aren't you?"
Black nodded.
"Ooh," White said. "You figured that out way quicker than I did!"
"Why are you here?" Pretzel asked. "Did something happen? Is he okay?"
"We're only partly here," Black explained. "Think of it like your dreamwalking."
"Or like a phone call," White suggested at Whip's look of confusion. "Whatever a phone is."
"But you were separated from Sonic," Pretzel said, remembering the sensation in Empire City. "And from me."
"Sonic's alive," Black reassured her. "In danger, but alive."
"I wouldn't worry too much," White said, seeing the expressions on their faces. "He may be in trouble, but he's not alone." He smiled at Pretzel. "His brother's looking out for him."
Pretzel nodded, understanding. Worried as she might be about Sonic—what could have possibly separated him so completely from the Gaia energy?—, she had to trust that he and Tails could handle it. Just like Sonic was trusting her and Whip to make sure he had a planet to come back to once his mission was done.
Whip was looking at White, seeming almost… hesitant. "You're… you're Sonic's Light Gaia energy?"
White smiled at him, the gentlest expression Pretzel had seen on him yet. "He doesn't hate you. The memories are hard, and it'll take time, but he doesn't hate you, Whip."
Whip nodded, making a sound suspiciously like a sniffle. "I'm glad."
"Thank you," Pretzel said to both fragments. "For telling us."
Black nodded, and White gave them an enthusiastic thumbs up. They disappeared in sync, a portion of darkness and light—smaller than the other fragments—flowing into their respective holders. There were no flashbacks, of course; all their memories of Sonic were perfectly intact.
Pretzel let the energy settle before looking down the tunnel. She could see its end, now, an innocuous opening in the rock that led into one last cavern. Their final destination. Through the opening she could sense a horrible wrongness grating on her senses. The rocks there were miscolored, light where they should have been dark and dark where they should have been light, and the air around the entrance seemed warped, buzzing with something like static. And over it all hung a horrible smell, like rotten meat or an infected wound.
"So," Whip swallowed. "That's where we're going?"
Pretzel nodded grimly.
They ventured closer cautiously. Whip's wings fluttered with anxiety, and Pretzel's own tail twitched nervously. Going near whatever was in that cavern felt horribly wrong, but they had to see this through.
Just one last door, and it would all be over.
"Don't think it'll be that easy," a horribly familiar voice taunted.
Pretzel jerked back, instinctively shielding Whip with her wing as a dark mist swept in front of the door and coalesced into Twist's sneering form. Beside her, a flare of bright light formed into a scowling Nova.
"Maybe they're nice now?" Whip whispered hopefully. A hope that was quickly punctured when Nova glared at him.
"We won't let you through. You've betrayed yourself, little brother. And this one—" Nova cast a disdainful look at Pretzel. "—this one cannot be trusted."
"And Twist can?" Whip demanded incredulously.
Nova looked briefly uncomfortable before his expression turned to one of resolve. "For now we have the same goal. I will of course kill her afterward."
Twist rolled her eyes.
Pretzel looked at her, frowning. "Why are you working with him? You're opposites. He's literally going to kill you. Don't you hate him?"
Twist flashed her teeth in a grin. "I could ask the same thing about you and your brother."
Pretzel glanced at Whip. "That's not—"
"Enough talk!" Nova snapped, leaping forward. "Today, you die!"
Pretzel and Whip dove in opposite directions. Nova turned smoothly on his heel, eyes locked on Whip, and lunged after him. Pretzel started after him, but Twist moved smoothly between them.
"Let the boys have their contest," she said, grinning that cold, mirthless grin. "You and I never finished our game."
She struck like a snake, lashing a claw through Pretzel's ear. Pretzel hissed and scrambled back, ducking a second swipe before she ran into the wall. Cornered. Great.
Twist stalked toward her, vicious delight in her eyes. Pretzel slashed her with her tail spike, but Twist hardly noticed the gash in her leg, and Pretzel stared as something like smoke poured from the wound. Taking advantage of her distraction, Twist lunged forward and seized Pretzel's by the neck. Pretzel writhed, digging her claws into Twist's hands, but Twist just laughed. She slashed her own claws down Pretzel's face before tossing her roughly to the tunnel floor.
Pretzel coughed, staggering to her feet through a haze of pain… only for the pain to be replaced by a strange coolness. She raised a hand to her face and felt, to her surprise, that the wounds were already knitting themselves together. Benefits of the power she'd reclaimed?
"Don't be too proud of yourself," Twist sneered, though there was clear displeasure in her eyes. "That little trick just means I can draw this out even more. How much pain can you take, Pretzel?"
She grabbed Pretzel again, this time by the wing, and slammed her against the wall. Pretzel gasped in pain, both from the impact and from the wrenching in her wing arm. She screamed as Twist slashed her claws through the wing's membrane. Twist released her hold, and Pretzel fell roughly to the ground. Her wing burned with agony, but Pretzel grit her teeth and willed herself to her feet again.
"We know all about pain, you and I." Twist studied her claws, now coated with the goopy purple-black liquid that poured from Pretzel's wounds instead of blood. "Sorry this has to be so messy, but I can't cause you burning agony with just a touch. Unlike someone we both know. How do you think he's faring? Barely learned he's a Gaia and already facing down such a powerful fragment." She grinned. "If he dies it's on you, you know."
Pretzel's wounds knit themselves together again, slower this time. Even with her recent power boost she still had limits, and Twist would find them quickly if this continued. What were her options? Fight her? Twist was a fragment, a piece of Dark Gaia itself, and a powerful one at that. For Pretzel, fighting her was fighting herself.
Not that that's stopped Twist, Pretzel thought wryly, wincing at the lingering pain. Pain caused by a piece of her own self. It sounded like a terribly on the nose metaphor.
"Why are you doing this?" Pretzel demanded before Twist could attack her again. Maybe she could stall her; Twist did seem to enjoy gloating.
"Why should you care?" Twist snapped, something like genuine anger peeking through her taunting tone. "I'm a heartless monster, aren't I? This is what monsters do."
Pretzel closed her eyes. So that's what this was about. She could hear the scrape of claws on stone as Twist moved towards her, about to attack again. About to hurt again.
Here's the riddle. What am I?
I know what you are. You're a heartless monster playing games with children's lives.
"I'm sorry," she said.
The tunnel was suddenly quiet.
"I'm sorry," Pretzel said again, opening her eyes. Twist had frozen in place, staring at her. "For the way I treated you. We never did finish the game properly."
"It's a bit late for that," Twist snapped.
"I know the answer," Pretzel continued, holding her gaze steadily. Green eyes, same as hers. "I know who you are. You're me."
Nova was faster than Whip. Nova was stronger than Whip. Nova was maybe even smarter than Whip. And Whip thought that was more than a little unfair. He was the Gaia here, wasn't he? Why was the fragment better at this Gaia stuff then him?
Well, alright. It wasn't really Gaia stuff; they'd quickly figured out that using their Light Gaia powers on each other, while flashy and cool-looking, didn't actually have much of an effect. As it turned out, fighting fire with fire wasn't an effective strategy. That meant their fight was mostly hand-to-hand combat, which meant that being twice as tall and much more muscular gave one a significant advantage. Really, it just wasn't fair. Whip was supposed to be a super powerful sun monster; why did he have to be so much shorter than everyone?
At least he had his wings.
"Can't we talk about this?" Whip pleaded, flying out of the way of Nova's claws. "We don't have to fight!"
"You chose the wrong side, little brother," Nova growled. "That creature must be destroyed."
Whip scowled. "Why do you hate Pretzel so much? Why do you want to hurt her? Pretzel's not evil!"
To his surprise, Nova stopped attacking. He stood in the center of the tunnel, regarding Whip solemnly.
"I want the same thing you do. A world without tears." Nova gestured back down the tunnel, to where Twist and Pretzel were fighting. "They are creatures of darkness and grief. I will burn them away, them and all that is wrong with this world. I will make it perfect."
"But that won't work." Ignoring the voice of caution in his mind that sounded a lot like Pretzel, Whip flew down to Nova's eye level. "You can't force people to be happy, Nova. It doesn't work like that."
He'd tried it, when he was first getting to know Pretzel. When she'd been in a bad mood, he'd determinedly tried to make her happy, and been confused when she responded to all his attempts with angry glares. Amy had to take him aside and gently explain that while trying to help people was good, you also had to respect their feelings. Only now did he fully appreciate the wisdom in that. He'd been so focused on trying to make Pretzel happy because he'd wanted her to be happy, that he hadn't actually taken the time to listen to what she wanted.
"You can't help people by forcing them to be what you think they should be," Whip continued. "That's not being nice, that's being selfish."
Nova frowned, tail swishing back and forth on the stone, the way Pretzel's did when she was thinking. "You think people want to be unhappy?"
"No," Whip said. "But I don't think they want to be forced to be happy, either. Being hurt or sad is a part of being alive. And that just makes it even more special when you are happy."
Whip landed on the floor, reached out, and took Nova's hand in his. Nova's was a lot bigger, the claws sharper, but the warmth it gave off… that was familiar. Nova didn't attack him or pull his hand away. He just stared.
"I understand," Whip said sincerely, looking up at Nova. "I understand you want to make the world better. But we can't do it with fire. Don't you want to try a different way?"
Nova regarded him for a long moment. Then, beautifully, he smiled. "I suppose we might as well give it a shot."
"Why?" Twist demanded, voice cracking. Her eyes shone with what might have been tears, and her previous poise had been replaced by a coiled crouch like that of a frightened animal. Her tail lashed, agitated, like Whip when he was upset. The mask of confidence had cracked, and beneath it was a raw pain that Pretzel felt as her own. "You reject all of us, but when he calls for you, then you come running? Him? The one who hurt us most?"
"Whip isn't the one who hurt us most," Pretzel said softly. "We are. But I…" she swallowed. "I want to change that." She held Twist's disbelieving gaze, willing her to believe. For them both to believe. "We can change. I already have, and so has Whip. And we can keep changing. We can be something better."
"Without me," Twist guessed bitterly.
"No," Pretzel said firmly. "With you. The good, the bad, all of it. You're part of me; you'll always be part of me. We can't move on if we aren't whole, and we can't change if we don't know what we're changing in the first place."
She could hear Whip approaching quietly, his fight finished, but she kept her gaze on Twist.
"Please. Can't we try to be better?"
Twist closed her eyes and, softly, sighed.
"Okay," she said simply. She opened her eyes again and smiled slightly. A real smile. It was a good expression on her, better than the bared teeth and condescending smirk. "But when we die in fiery glory, don't blame me."
Pretzel smiled back and looked at Whip. Nova stood behind him, eyeing Twist and Pretzel uneasily. Pretzel raised her eyebrow, and Whip gave her an enthusiastic thumbs up. Well then.
"So," Pretzel said, nodding to the hole in the wall. "That's where we need to go? The root of all this?"
"Unfortunately," Twist said. "But what waits at the core won't be defeated by a couple of pretty words."
Nova nodded gravely. "The rage of a few stray fragments are nothing compared to that creature. You will need all your strength."
He knelt and placed his hands on the sides of Whip's head. Twist did the same to Pretzel.
"I'm glad," she said softly, so only Pretzel could hear. "I'm glad we've changed." She looked Pretzel in the eye, gaze intense. "Put an end to this, Pretzel."
Pretzel nodded.
Twist and Nova dissolved into energy. They flowed into their respective Gaias, and Pretzel and Whip gasped simultaneously at the surge of power. And then—
The Other One stands before them, and they feel a surge of furiou E. The very sight of the Other is enough to turn the world to R E D, and the air between them seems to warp, their vision cracking into pieces. Between that and the red, red, red, they can hardly see, but it doesn't matter. They have eyes only for the Other, intent only t this wretched thing infecting their world. They slash it with burning white claws, and they bite it with cold dark teeth, and they lock around each other, dragging each other down and down as they tear each other apart. The world is red, and they want t L.
Pretzel squeezed her eyes shut, shuddering with the echoing pain of a battle millennia past. She could feel the ghost of his burning claws tearing through her, almost taste his blood on her tongue. Nausea churned in her stomach; she might have thrown up if there was anything to throw up. She could feel Whip shuddering beside her, whimpering. She forced her eyes open and met his gaze. Bright, brilliant eyes, different than her own. Eyes of her enemy.
"I'm sorry," Whip said softly, reaching out as if to touch her before stopping himself. "I'm sorry for hurting you."
Pretzel leaned forward and closed the gap between them, pressing her head against his. They mirrored each other perfectly, wing touching wing, tail twined around tail.
"I forgive you," she said, feeling the truth of it to her core. "And I'm sorry, too."
They stayed like that for a long moment, until their racing hearts fell into the same steady rhythm and their panting breaths evened out. Then at last they stood and faced the gaping hole. The door to their final challenge.
"Ready?" Pretzel whispered.
"Ready," Whip said.
Together, they stepped into the Earth's core.