((AN: No content warnings for Amy and Silver's parts. Sonic and Shadow's part has some alcohol mentions and hints about sex, but nothing too crazy.))

Amy's body woke from a loud buzzing noise. The Nest was empty other than her, but it was no surprise; through the other eyes, she knew they were walking through town, getting food, finding more people, and covering more ground. Already there were three more sets of vision than last night. She wished she hadn't been asleep when they were given the gift, but did not dwell on it; there would be plenty more to see and experience.

She wandered about the shelter, and the buzzing continued. Bending down, she found the source. It was a cell phone - her cell phone, she remembered - that had fallen under the bed. It wouldn't stop flashing, so she started pressing buttons to try to make it go away. Eventually, she heard a sound come through it - it sounded like talking. "Ames? Amy, are you there?"

She couldn't remember whose voice it was, but it was pressingly familiar…it felt strange to listen to a voice with no voice to connect it to. "Can you talk right now?" it said.

Now that she thought about it, that's what the man in the street was doing yesterday; he held the device up to his ear and talked into it. Memories of doing that rushed back to all of them, and she nodded. The metal felt cool against her skin. She said, "Yes, I can talk right now."

A small crackle came from the device. "Sorry to bother you, but you said you were going to look for Silver yesterday. I'm kind of worried about him… he doesn't do well when he's on his own for too long."

Amy thought back. Yesterday? She couldn't remember talking to anyone but Silver and the others at The Nest. It nagged at her, but she couldn't remember it. "I found Silver," she said into the phone, "and he's not alone."

"Wait, are you with him now? Why didn't you tell me that you found him?"

"I forgot."

"Amy… okay, well can you tell him to meet me downtown? I need to talk to him."

"Where is downtown?"

"You know, downtown Empire City? By the statue - oh, right, you don't live here. Can you tell me where you are now? I'll find you."

"We are in The Nest."

"The homeless shelter? Why are you there?"

"We needed to Sleep."

Silence came from the other line. Amy could feel the other bodies moving around, going outside, cleaning the building, finding food… she felt a shiver come down her spine as one found a person he recognized, giving her the Purpose. She couldn't help but let out a contented sigh, and a worried muttering sound came from the phone.

"…I don't know what's going on, but stay there," came the other voice. "We can talk once I get there. Okay?"

Finally, she remembered whose voice was coming through the phone. She would be happy to see Blaze. They had so much to share. "Okay. I will see you soon." She pressed the red button on the phone, then held it up to her mouth. It dissolved slowly like a hard candy, and she smiled. Metal…yes. That's what it needed. That's how it got bigger.

Across town, Silver wandered aimlessly. His body had been first to wake and leave the Nest, and he had carried a piece of food with him as he walked around town. The sticker on its side read that it was a peach. It tasted sweet. Silver liked sweet things, but such preferences were foolish now - food was only good for keeping his body and blood moving, nothing more. There was so much to do now. He could walk outside, try to retrieve his memories, work more to eradicate the Sadness, but he needed to know more in order to do any of those things. It would be a busy day.

Recognition came in waves as he saw signs and buildings on the street. Different types of food, technology, places sprang into his mind. At some point, a newspaper had blown into his face with the wind, and he spent nearly two hours reading it cover to cover, multiple times. He remembered how to read eventually - it was just like Talking, but with his eyes instead of his ears. Instead of sounds, there were letters. Instead of words spoken, words were read. Instead of sentences to listen to, phrases were recognized and pieced together in his mind. Unlike talking, though, he couldn't respond to the words on paper - they stayed the same, no matter how he tried to communicate with it.

What a difficult discovery that lead to.

The idea alone of a newspaper was strange - why would people need to write to each other when they could see everything anyone else could see, hear everything anyone else could hear, know things everyone else already knew - but then he remembered that most of the world didn't have that sense of connection that he had with the others at The Nest. How terrible it must be, he thought - and how terrible it felt in retrospect - to be so alone. Frightened. Confused. Upset.

What was actually written in the newspaper made his feelings of pity more pronounced. Crimes between people took up most of the space, between advertisements and announcements. Pictures of people screaming at each other as buildings around them collapsed. An article about businesses throwing away food when they couldn't sell it, even though they knew other people were starving. One group of people killing another group of people based on arbitrary distinctions of space. The worst of the world literally lay at his fingertips, and after his second read through - the only one where he felt he really knew what it was saying - his hands shook. His fingers, now sticky with juice and black with ink, ran through his quills. He paid no attention to the dark streaks he was making, instead lost in thought. Things couldn't continue this way. Separation was tearing the world apart. Everyone needed to be brought together. Everyone needed to see the truth.

The peach he had been eating was now reduced to just a little pulp around a hard sphere. Silver rolled the object around in his hands, feeling its grooves in his fingers. A seed, the word was. This could be buried and eventually become a plant, something inside him said, making more peaches, making more plants… but only with the right care and conditions. The knowledge sprang to mind, but it didn't make sense. Why have the pulp to begin with, then? Why surround the seed with something sweet, something that could be eaten? It felt so unnecessary

He kept walking, not paying much attention to his surroundings, and the buildings became smaller and more spread out. He was close to the edge of town now, near the forest he had come from yesterday. A large sign - billboard, right, those ones were called billboards - stood erect, only overshadowed by the tallest of the trees. A large picture of a can of soup, well decorated and lit - but it was covered with drawings, the ink reminding Silver of how his own hands looked. Though he knew he had been here several times - although this wasn't where he was from, and for the life of him he couldn't remember where he was from, but now he was from The Nest, so it couldn't be that important - he could never remember getting a can like that. It was foolish, he thought. Showing that something was there wasn't enough to make people want it. It was merely another object, completely irrelevant. Discarded quickly in people's minds, including his.

As he dropped the peach pit on the ground, he stopped and stared at it. Perhaps, he thought, the peach was surrounded by sweet pulp because on its own, it couldn't move or take root in new places. Even if it rolled from the tree, it could only go so far… and one sickness, one fire, could destroy the whole bunch. Creatures of blood like him, though… they could take it anywhere, carry it miles away, even put it in places peaches hadn't grown before. Safety was in distance and variety, not predictability and solitude. Creatures of blood, though, wouldn't move the pits unless it benefitted them. The fruit made itself so both the peach and the one that could move would benefit, a bizarre self-sacrificing partnership. The sweetness of it lingered in his mouth. He rolled his tongue around and smiled. That was best way, the one nature itself had chosen. If it felt good, if it seemed like something that would make life better, people would do anything….

He felt the Purpose stir inside him, and he shivered in pleasure as he saw through another set of eyes. As if prodded, he started to move again. Too much time had been wasted. He had to keep going.

The city had woken Sonic long before the group actually landed; unlike the stars, the lights of Casinopolis were overwhelming. It was a wonder anyone could ever sleep here in the city known for its games, its shows, and its vulgarity. It was truly the mark of sapient innovation that there was an entire town devoted to recreation and depraved actions, and that in it were so many people that anyone - hero, villain, or in between - could slip by unnoticed. A fact remembered he used to take advantage of, though he pushed the memories out of his head.

It had been a long time since he last came here. He was a much bigger celebrity now, and while he didn't care about what people thought about him for his own sake, he'd hate for some of the things he did here to come to light. There were a lot of people that looked up to him, kids especially. Even being here was risky; what if he was recognized, or someone sent a picture to the press?

He exhaled. He'd cross that bridge if he ever came to it.

Sonic dodged taxis and cigarette smoke as he maneuvered the winding roads. Rouge seemed comfortable here - Sonic wouldn't be surprised if she was a frequent visitor, given her penchant for shiny things and high risk ventures - but Shadow looked perturbed. The bulk of people and harsh lights visibly irritated him, and Rouge had to hold him back more than once from snapping at people just going about their 'business.' "Remind me again why you are leading the way?" he had said, nearly launching a Chaos Spear at a particularly unruly driver.

"I'm the resident expert here, remember? Robuttnik isn't exactly going to hang out at the biggest casino in town, now that he doesn't own it. 'Sides, I know a guy who can point us in the right direction."

Rouge smirked, ignoring whistles from strangers on the street. "I wouldn't expect you to be quite so…acquainted with a place like this, Blue. Who knew you were even part of this scene?"

Sonic shrugged a little. "Not anymore. And it's not something I want to advertise, you know?"

"Gambled?"

"Maybe a little."

"Drinking? Drugs?"

"Never drugs, but I drank some. It almost got me in some trouble too."

Shadow raised an eye ridge. "You got drunk?"

Sonic scoffed. "I was young and stupid. Wasn't really used to fighting the Doctor yet - still learning how to dodge sharp metal and fire and, ugh, drowning. When you think you might die any day, you want to try everything at least once. Wasn't until my first 'night in Casinopolis' that I realized that being careless with that stuff was leading me down a bad road, and I stopped coming here."

"What did you do, exactly?"

Sonic's gaze darkened, just a little, and he turned his head to focus on the path. The memory of it stuck in his head - drinks with a little more alcohol than he thought, a smooth talking stranger, green and blue fur scattered about the sheets the next day when he woke up alone…. He grimaced. He didn't want to distract himself with regret over things that happened a long time ago, but the whole thing still felt dirty and shameful to him. That morning had been a wake up call for him in so many ways, both good any bad. "Let's just say, I'm happy that what happens here, stays here."

Shadow grimaced, but said nothing more. As they kept walking, he avoided eye contact with Sonic, and the blue one felt a pang in his chest. Is it just me, Sonic thought, or does he seem upset I'm not telling him about it? He couldn't get a good look at the dark hedgehog's face, and his body language was hard to read. After stumbling from a crutch in a divot he didn't quire see, Sonic shook his head, trying to dispel the thought. Well, if he is, he can just deal with it. No place like here to keep your cards close to your chest, right? Besides, I'm sure he's keeping much worse secrets from me. Right?

The group turned a corner, and Sonic stopped in front of a hole in the wall bar. Not only was it not well lit like the others in town, but even the lights it did have were off. This didn't deter Sonic, though, as he knocked on the door with a crutch - an intricate rhythm, obviously practiced several times. Shadow and Rouge exchanged a look as they heard several locked on the door being fussed with, metal slideing in its spots, until the door opened a crack. A weasel, wearing a broad brimmed hat, looked through the opening.

"I changed the knock."

"And yet, you still answer the door."

"You know I don't get involved in shit like this, Sonic. What the hell are you thinking, bringing federal agents into my bar?"

"It's been a long time, Nack. Wouldn't a 'hello, good to see you man' be better?"

"Maybe, if you weren't trying to scare away my clientele."

"Bar looks pretty empty to me. Almost looks like you've closed down."

"Like I'd ever close down. What'd you do to your leg?"

"I slipped while running."

"Wouldn't be the first time. What, didn't get it saving cats from trees or some other nonsense you do these days?"

"Aren't you the one who said things weren't so black and white? Now, are you gonna let me in, or do I have to break your door?"

The weasel paused. The door slammed shut, and the three of them thought it might be the end of it until they heard the chain sliding off. The door slid back open, and he ushered the group of them inside. Nack clapped his hand on Sonic's shoulder, directing him to a stool at the bar before he himself went behind it, taking out two glasses. His smile was large and crooked, like a crazed uncle.

"Chaos, Sonic, you've grown! How old are you now? Can you even legally drink?"

"Oh, so now you care about if it's legal?" Sonic groused. Shadow and Rouge looked at him strangely and he let them. He hadn't exactly talked about his old private life with them - it never came up - so he knew they were wondering where this was coming from. He turned his head to them and mouthed the words 'trust me.' "Twenty," he said. "My birthday was a few months ago."

"Well, you'll forgive me. I didn't send you a card."

"Not like I sent you one, either. I don't even know when your birthday is."

"Every night is your birthday around here. Least, that's how I get free drinks. Speaking of which…." The weasel took his place at the bar, pouring a deep brown liquid into a glass before sliding it across the table.

"Thanks, man, but I'm good."

"What, you sober now?"

"You know what happened last time," Sonic said, his voice taking a stern tone that said, and you better not share it.

"Yeah, that was a real riot," he said. He filled a new glass with water and passed it across. Sonic started drinking out of it in big gulps. "Still talk to him at all?" Nack asked.

"Psh, I've got better things to do."

"I'll say. Who is the guy with the stripes, anyway?"

Sonic choked, nearly spitting all his water out. He looked over at Shadow, worried. Would he be angry? Shadow's face betrayed no emotion, but the insinuation of it–

"Shadow. Shadow the Hedgehog," he said, as cordially as Sonic had ever heard him speak.

"And the bat?"

"Rouge."

Nack looked at the two of them, then started to polish another glass. "Some weird friends you got there Sonic. But something tells me you didn't come here to reminisce on old times if you brought them along."

Sonic finished his water, placing it back on the bar. "We're hunting down Doctor Eggman. We know he's been in the city, and you know exactly where."

Nack rolled his eyes. "You're reaching so hard, your arms are gonna fall off."

"No, I don't think I am. You know this town better than anyone, and Eggman's rebuilding. He's gonna need a lot of materials, legal and not so legal - and nobody makes a deal here that you don't know about, right?"

The weasel smiled. "That's true," he said, his eyes practically glinting, "but even if he was here, why would I tell you where he is? My business relies on me being neutral. If I help the feds, nobody would come here anymore?"

"Because it'll be a gamble. Nobody stays in Casinopolis too long if they don't like to bet. You can even pick the game."

"What's the wager?"

"If I win, you tell me where the Doctor is hiding. Nobody would need to know it came from you, but I am going to take him in."

"And what do I get if I win?"

Sonic thought for a minute. "One super sonic delivery to anyone, any parcel, no questions asked."

Nack crossed his arms. "Really? You know what my 'deliveries' tend to be. Not stuff a hero should be caught with."

"Then I won't get caught, will I?"

Nack drummed his fingers on the bar, thinking it over. "Seven deliveries," he replied.

"Two."

"Five."

"Three."

"Three, and I get to tell people I beat you in a fight. Really helps keep my rep with the customers."

"Nobody would ever believe you."

"But you won't say otherwise. That's my offer."

Sonic stopped in mock thought before grinning and offering his hand. The weasel took it, and the two shared a shake so strong it could break fingers. "Alright, now we're getting somewhere! So what's the contest?"

"Shooting," the weasel said, reaching under the counter and pulling out two pistols. "We'll do it out back, on targets. Best three shots win."

Sonic looked in disgust at the pistol like it was a dead animal. "You know I don't use guns."

"Like the empty barrels are gonna feel pain!"

Sonic grimaced. The truth was, not only did Sonic hate the idea of guns - he hated the idea of attacks that could actually kill people - he also was a terrible shot. He'd only shot a gun a few times, under duress, and it had completely missed its target. Sonic picked up the pistol and weighed in in his hands. Not to mention I can barely balance right now, he thought. The kickback alone would knock me down. I don't even know if I could do three shots.

Suddenly, he felt the pistol being taken from his hand. Shadow held it firmly, and it looked familiar in his hands. "I think what he means is, it wouldn't be fun for you to compete against an amateur," Shadow said. Sonic looked at him with wide eyes - what was he doing? This wasn't Shadow's turf, and he didn't know this guy. But Shadow's eyes had that confidence in them, the one that dared anyone to question his actions. Sonic's mouth stayed shut.

"A shooting contest with Sonic would be boring," Shadow continued. "Maybe it would be more of a challenge to you to go against someone who wields guns as part of his job. Unless you're also a bad shot," he said, smirking.

Nack looked at Sonic, then Shadow, then back at Sonic again. "What is it with you and the guys who look like you, huh? Narcissism at its finest."

Shadow crossed his arms, and Sonic widened his eyes in panic. "What do you mean by that?" Shadow asked. Nack didn't miss Sonic's reaction and let out a full bellied laugh.

"Chaos, he doesn't even know, does he?"

Sonic's face went beet red. And you better not tell him! he thought, almost wanting to pull Nack aside and call the whole thing off. "I don't know what?" Shadow replied. Sonic felt dizzy. He could grab Shadow's hand, go as fast as he could out of there, make up an emergency somewhere else. They could find Eggman another way - if Shadow knew what had happened here, he would die of embarrassment, he was pretty sure.

Luckily, Nack knew better than to tell people's secrets. "Never mind, I'm sure you'll know soon enough. Sure, I'll let you proxy, but there's something you gotta know about me first," he said.

"And what is that?"

His teeth shone again in the dim lights of the bar. "I go by another name in this town," he said. He grabbed the glass he had given to Sonic earlier and downed its contents in one go. The glass got slammed on the table, and his eyes were wild with fire. "Fang the Sniper. Best shot in the…well, the anywhere. Still up for it, gloomy?"

Shadow narrowed his eyes, and Sonic felt his heart beat faster. "Bring it on."

((AN: In case you're concerned about Nack/Fang being out of character, I'd just like to point out two things. One, I'm mostly working off the games universe, where Nack is basically just an egotistical greedy bastard with no dialog who shows up in Casinos for some reason, instead of the comics universe where he's more developed. Two, I'm not a huge fan of putting fan characters in my stories, including my own, so a relatively blank slate is refreshing. If this unnecessarily draws you out of the story, let me know - I won't rewrite this and the next chapter, but I can avoid doing stuff like this later.))