-Blaze-
Picking my way through the debris of fallen buildings that surrounds Robotnik's base, isolated in lonely might, a tall tower in the centre of a devastated ruin that he hasn't yet covered with his buildings, I see the robot guards on patrol some blocks away. Robotnik intended this place to be a monument to his overwhelming victory, that's why he left the ruins, I see that as well. The robots will not bother us; right now they are going in different directions, away from us. I don't have to think about what will happen if they don't, because I know that that is what will happen as things stand. If things change, I will know what will come, but unless that happens I won't have to know those things, and so I don't.
Beside me, my brother walks also. He carries a small gun in one hand, another on his belt, a third, larger, one slung across his back. My own is at rest in its holster, unused, as we're not here to get into fights this time. Trusting in what I know, he follows my cues - trusting? No, Crossfire trusts no-one and nothing, not even himself. He just knows that what I see really is there, like I do. Knowing, then, that what I do is what is best, he follows my cues, steps where I do, stops when I do, hides when I hide, almost before I do it myself. His combat sense pulls him towards the robots, but he follows me instead because we aren't here to fight, we're here to gather parts.
I've found several items that I know we'll want, even when I'm not sure what they are, when I feel… something… strange. It's something I've never felt before, like an attraction pulling me from my planned course. Following its irresistible pull will curve me around, directly to Robotnik's base, but the attraction is something built-in; I couldn't fight it even if I wanted to. Crossfire feels it too. He almost knows what I do normally, but he blocks it from himself, as he must if we are to survive. Yet he feels this. It's gentle, but insistent, a minor tug on my awareness that neither of us can ignore.
Together, silently, we curve away from our planned course. I already know the way that will take us through the patrols without being noticed, up to a point. After that, it will become impossible, because Crossfire will make a sound that will be detected. That strains the limits of my perception, but all of the paths I could know lead to the same kind of event, and this one feels the best.
Combat and Crossfire are attractive, like magnets; sooner or later one pulls the other to it. So when he knocks a loose bit of rubble and it falls with a rattle, I already know where the robot's shot will be, and I'm no longer there. Crossfire shoots, once; he doesn't need more. He's the most accurate shot of any of us; he hardly ever misses anything. I, of course, miss nothing, but that's a different way of fighting, because I know where the robot will be next, and where my shot will be, so I just make sure they'll be in the same place at the same time. I don't think I've ever targeted something like others do in my entire life. There's a lot of things I've done differently to others - even walking. I know where best to put my feet, where to stand, it's not instinct that makes me the quietest or the best, it's this ability that nobody else seems to share, of knowing what will come next. All this takes less than a second to pass through my mind, as the robot falls to the ground. Its clatter is unavoidable, because it was too far away for me to catch it. Crossfire and I spin about and run, him following my lead, and together we reach the foot of Robotnik's giant metal tower.
"You want us to go in?! Little brother, your senses have really fouled us up this time! You've finally lost it!" His tone is a scathing whisper, but it's just the way he is now - he can't help it any more than I can help being what I am. So I just shrug and look up, and I know where there's a way in.