They reached the town safely, and Amy used her magic powers (talking to people) to get them a place to stay for the night. Whip devoured the food she got him and then immediately dozed off. He still didn't seem to realize he didn't need sleep. Or maybe his constant zipping around expended a ton of energy and that was why he needed actual rest? Maybe if Pretzel ran around like a maniac all the time she'd need to sleep sometimes, too.
Pretzel perched on the windowsill, listening to the ocean crashing against the beach nearby, just out of sight. Amy was in bed, reading. She claimed it helped her relax. Maybe Pretzel should try it sometime. Whip was snoring on the pillow by Amy's head. Amy didn't seem to mind.
"Sorry for running away," Pretzel said, because it was needed. "When you got captured. I hid."
Amy blinked up at her. "That's—Pretzel, it's fine. You don't have to be a fighter like me. Or Whip," she added, casting the sleeping Gaia an amused smile. She looked back at Pretzel. "Your way of doing things actually saved us this time. Thank you."
Pretzel flicked her tail. "You got captured by a cult dedicated to me. If anything it was—"
"No," Amy interrupted sharply. "You can't blame yourself for what they chose to do, Pretzel."
Pretzel studied her for a moment. "Did you know? That there was a Dark Gaia cult?"
Amy sighed, running a finger along the spine of her book. "I'd heard about Gaia cults that sprang up after the incident. I mean, there have always been people who believed in and even worshipped the Gaias, but it was mostly relegated to specific cultures and places. It was only recently that it started spreading globally. For obvious reasons, I guess."
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"I didn't want to upset you. These movements have been spreading, yes, but they're still outliers. It's not something you needed to worry about." She looked up at Pretzel with a serious expression. "And I mean it. You can't take responsibility for what they choose to do. They latched on to the image of your past self, but you never told them to do any of this. If it hadn't been you, it would have been Light Gaia, or Chaos, or something else entirely. This isn't on you."
Pretzel just shrugged and turned back to the window.
A few moments later Amy's breathing shifted, and she glanced back to see her fast asleep, book fallen on the floor. Pretzel hopped down, put Amy's bookmark back in place, and set the book on the bedside table. She adjusted Amy's position so her neck wouldn't hurt in the morning, moved Whip down beside her, tugged up the sheets around them both (not that she thought they would need them, really; it was cooler now, but still warm for Pretzel's tastes), and then flicked off the light. She jumped back on the windowsill and looked down at her companions. They were both sleeping peacefully. At least they weren't having nightmares.
Pretzel curled up on the windowsill, looking out towards the jungle. She knew intuitively what way the temple was; she could feel the cultists, their mingled fear and uncertainty and bitterness. That was her doing, at least partly. Why didn't you fight? Whip had asked. Your way of doing things actually saved us this time, Amy had said. Did she actually believe that, or did they both think her a coward? Was she a coward? Was she worse?
Pretzel sighed. She wouldn't find answers tonight. She had something else she needed to do.
Pretzel closed her eyes and stepped into her dream world. The crystals and stone walls seemed far less inviting now after her experience in the temple. She was just glad the rock didn't have any carvings on it. Pretzel walked along the threads of sleeping minds. Normally she'd just seek out any old nightmare, but tonight she had specific targets. She found one soon, checking that she had the right person, before slipping into their dream.
Waves lashed, and thunder and rain crashed overhead as a storm not unlike the one that had hit Empire City surged over a small town. The dreamer, a cricket, screamed in terror as her home and family were washed away in a tidal wave. A nightmare, but one with the edge of memory. Normally Pretzel did her best not to intrude on the minds of the dreamers, but this time she made an exception, delicately poking at the thread of memory to see what came after the storm. And ah, there it was: a friend approached her, mentioned a group who thought they could stop the storms. The cricket, lost and frightened, took the bait, and before long she'd been indoctrinated into the cult.
Several other cultists probably had similar pasts, and Pretzel didn't doubt they'd seen a surge in membership after the Gaia incident two months ago. Perhaps that had even been when they'd started; that temple certainly hadn't been built by this group, so perhaps they were a new movement taking advantage of what had been left behind by a far older movement.
Thunder crashed, and Pretzel jolted. The dream shifted, and suddenly the storm was a monster like the one that attacked Empire City. The cricket gasped in shock, and Pretzel jerked back. The monster didn't just look like the one that attacked the city; it was the exact same one. Had she accidentally brought it into the dream? Pretzel hissed to herself. She should have known better than to go dreamwalking with her emotions as much of a mess as they were. Hopefully she could reverse the—
The creature was looking directly at her.
At her, not the dreamer, not anything behind her. At her, Pretzel.
It didn't roar. It didn't attack. Instead it reached out a claw towards her with a strange, terrifying gentleness. The claw rested lightly on Pretzel's head, cool to the touch, and for a moment—just a moment—she knew the creature in its entirety. Its love, its mourning, its pain, its cold and relentless fury—
Pretzel screamed.
She jerked awake with a gasp, claws scoring deep gashes in the wood windowsill beneath her. She flailed for balance, heaving for breath she didn't need, and looked around the room wildly, trying to reassure herself that she was here, she was present, the monster wasn't real, it had just been a nightmare—
Thunder crashed outside. Pretzel whirled around, digging her claws into the wood as she leaned out the window. Rain lashed her fiercely, and the wind seemed to howl. No; that wasn't the wind. Pretzel stared as the monster reared over the town, storm clouds and unnatural fog spreading around it like a dark cloak. The monster looked down, and for a moment it and Pretzel locked eyes.
The same monster from Empire City. The same monster from the dream. Pretzel's heart dropped and in that moment she knew. It had followed them here. It had followed her here. She had brought this upon this town.
"Pretzel!" Amy called. The storm had woken her and Whip, and she already had her hammer in hand. "Pretzel, come on!"
Pretzel pulled herself from her daze and darted over to Amy. As they hurried out into the hallway she kept close to Amy's heels, willing her wings to stop shaking. Whip darted around them, flying ahead and circling back, over and over again, his own wings fluttering with nervous energy. They hurried down the stairs. Each boom of thunder seemed to shake the building to its foundation, and between the crashes Pretzel heard the monster's howls. They made it outside, and Pretzel folded her wings tight to her back to keep from getting blown away by the wind. Whip, with his smaller wings and flight that seemed to defy actual physics, was less affected, though he hung close to Amy anyway. Amy, still clutching her hammer, stared up at the monster.
"Not again," she whispered. "Not here. Did it…?"
"Amy," Pretzel said urgently.
She could feel the monster's focus on her like a pressure in her mind, and the image of their apartment, reduced to rubble, kept flashing in her eyes. They hadn't been able to stop it last time, and this time destroying a few buildings wouldn't be enough. It wanted them. It wanted her.
Pretzel swallowed. "Amy, we need to—"
Something caught her eye.
The jaguar and the quetzal from the beach, from a time before water gods and cults and storms. They were huddled in the street a little ways away, staring wide-eyed up at the monster. The monster stared back.
No, Pretzel begged, body frozen. Don't do this.
The monster raised its claws.
"Leave them alone!" Whip shrieked, and flew off before anyone could stop him.
"Whip!" Pretzel yelled, taking off. The wind pulled at her wings, rain lashing her eyes, and she grit her teeth, urging herself to fly faster, even though she knew there was no chance of her catching up. She'd always been slower than Whip, and in this storm… She was slow, too slow, she wouldn't get there in time, what was Whip thinking—
The monster's head snapped up, its gaze falling on Whip. It growled, a deep rumble that shook the air as surely as the thunder. Whip, stupid, reckless Whip, charged right at it. Pretzel dove after him, not sure what she was hoping to accomplish, but it didn't matter because she was too far away, too slow. The claws came down, and Whip was thrown through the air like a meteor, crashing down somewhere out of Pretzel's view.
On instinct Pretzel reached for him, grasping desperately to feel his mind and know he was alright—and instead she felt something cold and dark and terrifying. For a moment the storm seemed to still, and it was just Pretzel and the monster, locking eyes through the rain.
Pretzel almost pulled away from the connection. She didn't want to understand this thing; she didn't want to have anything in common with it. But… fighting it didn't work.
Whip would fight it anyway, she told herself. Whip did fight it anyway. Whip and Amy and Sonic—they'd all find a way to defeat this thing.
But Pretzel wasn't Whip or Amy or Sonic. Pretzel was just Pretzel. The monster who, apparently, had a connection to other monsters.
Your way of doing things actually saved us this time. Amy had said that. What if she had meant it?
Her way of doing things.
Might as well give it a shot.
Instead of shoving the connection away, Pretzel mentally grabbed hold of her link to the monster, strengthening it, refusing to let the monster pull away. She held its gaze, lifting her chin. You want me to feel what you feel? Fine. But you have to listen to me, too.
Why are you doing this? she projected sharply.
To her surprise, the monster actually responded. Not with words, but with a jumbled wave of feelings and images and sensations. Images of human creations, of wild lands taken over by man, of polluted oceans and dying life, and over it all a feeling of aching pain. She felt the monster's grief and rage at humanity, and she understood it.
I get it, she said, because she did. People, she had observed, had a very strong tendency to cause pain, to themselves, to each other, and to the very world they lived on. It hurts. But this? She projected an image of the destruction it had caused, of the terrified people. This isn't going to make it hurt less. She knew that from personal experience; no matter how she lashed out, it never took the pain away, only forced it onto other people. She projected that feeling, too, urging the monster to understand.
And it did. It made a low, mournful noise that reminded her of whale song, and then… it disappeared. Pretzel gasped, jerking back in surprise as the monster dissolved into dark purple mist, not unlike the fog it had brought with it. The mist surrounded her before she could escape. Pretzel sucked in a breath as she felt a sudden rush of energy, of power. Images and sensations rushed through her head: a boat tossed by the sea; an ocean storm lashing the trees; a whale gliding gracefully through the moonlight; a shark hunting its prey in the depths. Pretzel saw them, felt them, and knew them. She knew this feeling of power rushing through her veins, the force of the ocean made manifest. This power was hers.
That was what the monster was. That was why it had taken such an interest in her. It was a piece of her, a piece of her power.
A piece of Dark Gaia.
That was what Tikal had said; that the storms were caused by the Gaias. Was that what all of these disasters were? Pieces of rogue Gaia power?
Pretzel didn't have time to think about it; the rush of images had barely faded before suddenly the world shifted and she was somewhere else.
They were destroying it. They were destroying it, the home of her children, the place that was hers. These things, things not of her, these unnatural machines, were destroying the things that were hers, all to build their arrogant little "cities".
Destroy them, the voice urged.
Her anger rose to a crescendo, and the waves rose with it. She roared down at the city, rage fracturing her vision and flooding it red. She could see the little creatures, sneering at her, her, and she hated them. She crashed her darkness down on the city, crushing it, crushing them, and still her vision was filled with red, red, red, fractured like glass, and the voice kept urging her to destroy, destroy, destroy.
She obeyed.
Pretzel gasped, jerking upright, claws scrabbling for purchase on the slick mud. She was on the ground; had she fallen from the air? Whip was holding her arm and Amy was running over to her. Both alive, both unhurt. Pretzel looked up, blinking away the rain. The monster was gone. The storm was gone, too, leaving only gentle rain. Just normal, wonderful, blessed rain. The jaguar and the quetzal were being led away by an older jaguar; the child's mother, probably. How long had Pretzel been out? It couldn't have been long, since neither Amy nor Whip looked particularly concerned.
Out. Pretzel remembered what she'd seen, what she'd felt, and shuddered.
"Pretzel! Pretzel, that was awesome!" Whip gushed. "You made a face like this—" He let go of her arm to put his fists on his hips and scowl at the air. "—and poof! It was gone!"
"That was really impressive," Amy agreed, smiling. "How'd you do it, anyway?"
Pretzel glanced at Whip, who stared back at her innocently. Best not to talk about it being a part of Dark Gaia with him here; it would raise way too many questions. "I, uh, talked to it. The monster. It was confused and in pain—more of an animal than anything, really. I calmed it down and it, uh, left."
Whip looked taken aback. "It… left? I thought you defeated it. Like, y'know—" he punched the air, making "pow! pow!" noises. "Like the heroes do!"
"She did defeat it. It isn't hurting anyone anymore, is it?" Amy smiled at Pretzel. "Pretzel just did it her own way."
Pretzel glanced away, uncomfortable with the pride in Amy's expression.
"But… it was evil," Whip said, clearly lost. "The bad guys don't just give up, right?"
"Sometimes it's more complicated than bad guy, good guy, Whip," Pretzel sighed.
Whip just made a doubtful noise. Then he looked at Pretzel, cocking his head. "Hey, you look different."
Pretzel blinked and looked down at herself. He was right. Her fur had shifted to a darker, richer brown, not unlike the mud beneath their feet. She reached up to touch the tufts on the sides of her head. They felt different, more fin-like, and from the corner of her eye she could see they'd turned from their previous purple to blue like her claws, as had the skin of her wings. The biggest change, though, she could feel on her back: she had, somehow, spontaneously manifested a dorsal fin, like a shark or a fish.
"Huh," Pretzel said, trying not to show her unease. She'd regained a massive chunk of her Gaia energy; of course there'd be changes, and these weren't really that massive. But they still meant she was just a bit closer to becoming that thing she'd glimpsed in the other reality.
Whip was still looking at her expectantly. She needed to think of an explanation.
"It's probably just a side effect of defeating the, uh, monster," Pretzel said. "It gave me an energy boost."
"Oh, like when you beat a bad guy in a video game!" Whip latched onto the idea immediately. "You leveled up!"
Well, that was one way of looking at it.
"If I fight a monster, will I level up too? Are there any more monsters to fight? I want to have cool spiky things!" Whip looked around as if expecting a monster to just appear out of thin air. To be fair, the last one had just disappeared into thin air, so maybe he was onto something.
"Are there more monsters like that?" Amy asked, looking at Pretzel.
"I think so," Pretzel said, sifting through what she'd received from the storm monster. Except "monster" wasn't really the right word for it. Piece? Wisp? Fragment? Should she give it a name? Was it weird to name something after you kind of killed it? "I don't think they're all exactly like that, but… yes, there are others."
"Do you think you could stop them, too?"
Now wasn't that the question. Pretzel still didn't fully get what she'd done with the storm mon—Hurricane, she was just going to call it Hurricane. She didn't know how she'd stopped Hurricane. But she'd done something. Could she do it again?
"I… maybe," she said at last. "I don't know. Probably?"
"Then it's settled," Amy decided, putting her hands on her hips. "The three of us will find these other monsters and stop them!"
"Yes!" Whip cheered. "Save the world! Save the world!"
Amy grinned, twirling her hammer. "That's right. And speaking of saving the world…" she glanced around at the town. "Why don't you go fly around and see if anyone needs help? Pretzel and I will check on things here."
"We will?" Pretzel asked, feeling like she was missing something as Whip saluted and shot off.
Amy didn't respond until Whip had flown out of sight. Then she dropped her hammer into hammerspace and turned back to Pretzel. "Alright, tell me the full story now."
Ohhh. That made sense.
"It's a piece of me. The monster."
"A… piece? What kind of piece?"
Pretzel furrowed her brow, trying to figure out how to explain. "When Whip and I took these forms, we gave up a lot of the powers we'd had as Gaias. All that energy, that power, had to go somewhere. And now it's wreaking havoc."
Amy frowned. "But I thought Sonic took the excess Gaia energy?"
"He took on a lot of it—" more than he should have, Pretzel added silently. "—but not all. I thought the rest would just dissipate, but apparently it. Well. Went rogue." She might have anticipated this if she had any clue how her own powers worked.
Amy bit her lip. "You said you got cut off from Sonic. Does that have anything to do with this?"
Pretzel hadn't considered that. "Maybe? Whatever happened, I think it had to do with the Gaia energy he was carrying. Like it suddenly got ripped away from him."
"And turned into monsters?"
"I… don't think so," Pretzel said slowly. "It might have. But I feel like it ended up somewhere else."
Amy hummed. "So you think all the strange weather and natural disasters we've been hearing about are because of rogue Gaia energy?"
Pretzel nodded.
Amy clapped her hands and smiled. "Then this should be easy! All we have to do is have you and Whip take the energy back, right?"
"I doubt the other fragments will go easily," Pretzel pointed out, if only to avoid her bigger concern. She looked down at herself again. If she'd changed this much from just one fragment…
Amy's excitement faded. "Do you know what will happen if you and Whip absorb all the fragments?"
"I… I don't know."
"We're going to have to tell him," Amy sighed. "Or else he'll figure it out on his own."
Pretzel remembered receiving the memory from Hurricane and shuddered. Amy was right; if they were hoping to have Whip absorb his stray fragments, they'd have to tell him the truth of his identity. And the truth of Pretzel's. What would happen then? Would he resent them for not telling him? Would he hate Pretzel for what she was?
"I don't think we should tell him right away," Pretzel said, trying not to sound too pleading.
Amy gave her an understanding look. "I suppose it can wait until we understand the situation better." She looked around. "Speaking of Whip, I'd better go check on him. Hopefully he hasn't eaten all the village's food supplies. You want to come?"
"I'll wait here."
"I'll be back soon," Amy promised, and then Pretzel was alone.
She'd thought often about when Whip would inevitably find out about their true origins, but that didn't make her dread it any less. As annoying as Whip was, Pretzel had come to almost like having him as a brother. She didn't want to see him become a hate-filled monster again. But more than that she feared—selfishly—that he wouldn't change, that he would stay Whip, but a Whip that hated her, Pretzel. Hated her for not telling him, hated her for what she had been, hated her for what she was.
Whip was annoying and overwhelming and exhausting to be around, but he was the closest thing she had to family. Sonic was gone now. Rouge only rarely visited, usually brief "hellos" while on business in the city, and Pretzel hadn't seen Shadow or Blaze since the Gaia incident. She had Amy, but if Whip turned against her, which of them would Amy choose?
Pretzel dug her claws into the mud. She didn't want to lose them, any of them. But she'd already let selfishness direct her in the past, and now the entire world was in danger.
She had to make this right. Whatever it cost.
