Chapter 3: Glow

October 20, 1057

Annual Seaside Hill Walk for Peace cancelled over weather concerns

The annual Seaside Hill Walk for Peace, a charity event to raise money for those affected by conflict stemming from Dr. Eggman, was cancelled yesterday over concerns of Hurricane Honey touching down during the walk. Traditionally, Monsoon season is later in the year for Seaside hill, leaving scientists baffled. All are advised to stay clear of the following areas over the next week: Seaside Hill, Ocean Palace, Sea G… Pg 12

A magnificent glow shot out in front of them, and instantly Tails and Amy's heads turned in the biplane. Engulfed in a white sphere, Eggman's base was gone. A gentle haze surrounded the sphere like the rings around the sun. The ball was glowing; the ball was growing.

"TAILS WHAT ARE YOU DOING!" Amy frantically shouted to the navigator. She was not just shouting because their comms were busted and the wind was in her face, but because Tails was now turning their plane to face the glow. It happened all so suddenly. Tails and Amy airdropped Sonic just moments ago, and now he was in there.

"AMY THAT ISN'T AN EXPLOSION, THAT'S CHAOS CONTROL! AND WHEREVER IT TAKES SONIC HE'S GONNA NEED BACKUP!" The ball had already started to recede with trees reemerging from the ball of light. Tails confirmed his suspicion that this was not an explosion as the trees on the ground had been unaffected by the chaos control wave.

"WELL GUN IT, THAT THING ISN'T GOING TO LAST MUCH LO-! TAILS WHA-, GET BACK IN YOUR SEAT!" The Fox had unbuckled his seatbelt, and now was climbing onto the wing of the plane. He then motioned Amy to join him up there, and to do it fast. With her mouth slightly ajar, she remained motionless.

"HURRY!"

Snapping to her senses, she wrestled the belt off her waist, and pulled herself onto the head of Tails' seat. She reached out with both her hands to latch onto the wing and then pulled herself up. With the Tornado's target finder enabled, the plane remained locked onto the sphere even without a pilot. The time was coming soon.

"GET READY TO HOLD ONTO ME, IF WE END UP IN THE AIR I'LL NEED TO FLY US TO SAFETY!" Amy just barely nodded her head. Her eyes were wide, but she was prepared. "DO IT!" She locked her hands around Tails' chest, and she could feel his body start convulsing as he prepared to lift them. By now, the glow had become too strong for the two of them. They closed their eyes and crossed through.

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March 12, 1938

Koehler to Ask U.S. to Study Water Here

Health Official Proposes New Survey; Refers to 'Smearing' in State's 'Boil Freely' Report. An independent survey of Milwaukee's water situation by the United States public health service will be asked by City Health commissioner John P. Koehler as a result of action by the state board of health recommending that he order the boiling of water more frequently.

The white glow penetrating through their eyelids had deceased; they knew they were through. They were now flying 100 miles per hour through the sky without a plane.

Opening his eyes, Tails gripped tightly around Amy's shoulder and began spinning his twin tails to gain some modicum of control over their planeless flight. He lifted their bodies to be perpendicular to the air in front of them to catch as much drag as possible. Amy's short bangs were slicing at his nose, but he was more worried about spiraling into the unknown below him than his complexion. Slowly, they stopped falling forwards and were soon falling in the more traditional direction. Tails once again angled their bodies, this time downwards like two parachutists in tandem. Using the last of his major energy, he helicoptered his tails to finally slow down into a controlled descent.

Amy, with her face stuffed against Tails' chest and unable to see, muffled out "Tails, give me some good news…!"

"Well, uh, see for yourself." Tails released his right arm slowly from around Amy, reached around his back and grabbed hold of her right hand. With the two clasping hands, they then did the same with their left hands. Like a cat's cradle, the two unwound. Amy swung around to face forward and ended up below Tails, hanging hand to hand with him. Tails' lip faintly curled into a smile, remembering all the times he and Sonic found themselves in this same position on their many adventures.

"...Wow, this is beautiful. Good thing Sonic isn't here, or he would be freaking out so hard right now." Around them on all sides was water. The morning sun bounced off each drop of water reflecting a brilliant blue sea of color. "Well, I hope Sonic wasn't here." They were still to high in the air to make out marine animals or even waves, but they both silently imagined that the sea harbored life. Suddenly, Amy yanked her left hand back and pointed it off into the sea. "Look Tails, off in the distance, 10 o'clock!" Tails, now using his free arm to shield the sun from his eyes, squinted off in the direction Amy was pointing.

The first thing Tails noticed was the grey steam which contrasted heavily against the brackish sea. He traced the steam following the end which was decreasing in size. Even if he could not fully make it out, the soft metallic colors deep in the distance more or less confirmed a ship of some size to exist. After scanning the whole barren horizon, they decided that the boat was their best bet for safety. With it still being miles away, flying there was out of the option.

Tails plucked a hair out from his head and dropped it. It slowly fell to the sea with no drift.

"Amy, there's no wind, and no chance I can get us to that boat." Her left hand reached back up, Tails took it. "But look, the steam at the bottom is darker than the steam at the top. That means it's heading this way. Hey, how long can you float?"

She looked up, tilting her head all the way back to look directly at him. "...Why?"

"Well, if we can't crash into the boat, we'll just have to make her crash into us, hehe."

Amy looked back down and let out a small groan, and just loud enough so Tails could hear, "Why'd I even ask."

"We're going to fly left until we are inline with that boat, and then forward for as long as we can. After, we'll just have to float until we collide." Looking away from the Sun, Tails still could not spot their shadow in the water so he knew they still had some time until splash down. Not hearing protest from Amy, he yawed his tail propellers until they were at a right angle with the ship and then pitched forward.

"Easy for you to say when you're not wearing a dress that, may I tell you, retains water quite well." Placing the sole of her boot on the heel of the other, she aggressively kicked down to remove the shoe and shed weight. Coming loose, she curled her foot to keep the boot from falling. She bent her leg back, and then shot forward, sailing the boot through the air.

Instinctively Tails began counting once the boot hit its apex. "... Eight, nine, ten, eleven!" His fox eyes could spot the brief splash from Amy's rain boot colliding into the water at close to terminal velocity. Amy, kicking her other boot away, did not think much of Tails' counting. "Therefore we are, um sixteen times eleven squared, so like two thousand feet in the air. Five minutes. That's how long till we're swimming."

Amy did not say anything. Surrounded by water, hearing only the sounds of tails cutting through the air, she looked down at her socks, pretending to think about whether or not to take them off as well. Eventually, she did speak up. "Do you think he's okay?"

"Sonic? Well, there's no way to tell for sure. He was in that explosion for almost thirty seconds before we got in. So he could be thousands of miles away… or right under our feet. Chaos control is weird like that. But knowing him, he's probably already causing trouble somewhere. Besides, you're the one who can 'feel' him from just about anywhere, what do you think?"

"I… don't know. Maybe it's all the blue around us, little bit of sensory overload to my instincts. But what I do know is that when we get out of this, I'm teaching him how to swim."

Tails chuckled, "Yeah, maybe if you can find a flicky bath big enough for him to waddle into." The two shared a nervous laugh, both simultaneously worried about Sonic, themselves, and each other. Finally lined up with the boat still heading towards them, Tails turned to face the craft steaming away. By now, the two could only see the steam rising into the air as the rest of the ship had sunk into the horizon. Looking down, they saw their dreaded dual shadows chasing after them hugging the surface of the water. "Alright, this is it. This water is going to be around 60°, so stay close to me and we'll share heat. DON'T swim or tread, we'll just be wasting energy and heat. We're buoyant enough to stay afloat without it. And the warmth from your dress should offset the extra weight you'll gain from the water." And with that, he grew silent.

"This is going to suck." They both thought.

With the steam just over the horizon, both held their breath, closed their eyes, and submerged themselves into the early March water.

Even with Tails slowing down their fall tremendously, their bodies sunk down beneath the water. The sea ran through all of Amy's quills and fully drenched her dress. Tails' fur absorbed much of the water into itself, turning his typical yellow-orange furred self into a more pumpkin under the setting sun color. The cold beat into them, stabbing at their skin with its icy daggers. It clawed and scratched at any exposed flesh as it tried to pull the two down into its depths. The salt in the water attempted to pry their eyelids open and snag its rocky self into the soft whites of their eyes. But even under the shock of the cold water, Tails and Amy held steadfast. Conscious not to kick each other, they vigorously swiped down at the water with their cupped hands, rebelling at the invisible arms climbing out from the dark trenches of the sea. Each pull loosened the waters hold over them. Finally, Amy emerged out breaking through the surface of the water. She reached down, grabbed Tails' gloved hand, and pulled him up next to her.

Tails gasped for air. The coldness had evidently forced all the oxygen from his lungs and starved his blood cells of its life support. Slowly filling his lungs back to capacity, he shook his head free of water. Peeking through a crack in his eyelids, he could tell his vision had been impaired from salt slipping in his large eyes. He brought his gloves up to his eyes to rub them for some sort of relief. Before Amy could stop him, Tails pushed the salty fabrics across his face and into his eyes.

"Ah, crap Amy! Why would I do that!" He resisted the urge to rub at his eyes again and instead grappled around his forehead. Letting out a guttural noise in frustration, his fingers scrunched up as he pulled against the short furs topping his head. He brought his head violently back against the water in a self-destructive attempt to deal with his irritation and pain.

"Tails stop! You aren't helping by doing that!" With Amy's voice of reason, Tails stopped and looked down at the water. His teeth were exposed and his panting could be easily heard. Amy could not tell where the water dripping off his face was from. She reached out and brought his head to her shoulder. She could feel him shaking in her arms. Amy softly brought her chin down on the top of Tails' head and stroked through his fur.

Gazing off towards the steam, Amy watched as a mast breached the horizon.

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It was morning. After escaping into the forest last night, he had slid through brambles and brush for what had seemed like an eternity for Sonic. His wound had not stopped naturally bleeding, and rushing past crowded conglomerations of trees had not done it any favors. He had not yet slept.

Scoping out a clearing from the ground and from the tops of trees, he decided this was the place. Sonic started placing his gathered supplies for his planned bootleg operation.

First, the wooden bucket. It had a metal bottom and a metal strap around the center to hold the shape of the bucket. He grabbed it with his left arm and ran off to fill it in one of the many streams flowing in the area. He had stolen the bucket during his run last night from a farm. Sonic did not intend to return it.

Filled with river water, he placed the bucket down on some loose stones nearby. Sonic then quickly scoured nearby trees for fallen branches and gathered them next to the bucket.

He stepped onto a batch of dry and yellowing grass. He took a couple deep breaths, looked up at the sun, closed his eyes, and started running in place. With each step, he dragged his foot deeply across the ground with intensity. Even though Tails had designed the shoes to produce as little heat as possible, eventually the friction from Sonic antagonizing the ground was too much for the grass to handle. Sonic looked down and saw the yellow grass turning black with little flicks of embers at the tips of the plants. Without a spared moment, he jumped down, uprooted some burning grass and softly, but urgently, brought it to the branches. He tossed his pathetic matchsticks onto the smallest of twigs he had gathered, lowered himself onto his knees, and lightly began blowing onto the pile of grass, fire, and wood. The grass brought fire to the twigs, which brought fire to the sticks. With each piece of fuel, the fire grew strong and Sonic grew nervous.

Sonic grabbed the longest stick he had gathered with his left arm and caught the bucket under its handle. Lifting it up, some water from the overflowing bucket splashed out. He brought it over to the fire, stretched his arm out, and held the bucket over the blaze.

The metal bottom began to be singed from the shooting fires below the bucket, and rapidly the heat transferred into the water. Soon, the river water was brought to a boil. Sonic let the bucket seethe for a number of minutes to thoroughly eradicate any germs or microorganisms that had the misfortune of finding themselves in the bucket. Satisfied with his efforts, he placed the bucket down near the fire to keep it at least at a simmer.

Deciding it was time, he grabbed the bottle of alcohol he had stolen from a different farm. It had been sitting on a railing looking tall and pretty. Briefly casting off his lifetime sobriety, Sonic took deep gulps of the high proof alcohol out of its clear-glass square bottle. Raspberry. Pulling back, Sonic read the solitaire label on the bottle. "Snaps." He set the bottle next to the bucket.

Reaching out behind his head with his left arm, Sonic gripped at the roots of a clump of quills, and in a swift motion, jerked them away from his head. He silently blessed his decision to keep his quills long but well maintained. Holding the spikes from the root with the sharp end pointing away from Sonic, he dipped them into the boiling water as deep as his hand would allow him without burning himself. He counted to one hundred and pulled back.

Like a sinkhole, a pit had grown in his stomach. It engulfed his entire body with its invisible anxiety. Needing to reduce his heart rate, Sonic took deep breaths. He mentally traced the flow of air down his throat, into his lungs, and out again. He brought his teeth down to his bloody right glove and removed it. Figuring it would not strain his arm much, Sonic grabbed a unburnt stick with his free right hand, placed it into his glove, pierced through the index finger, and pushed the stick through until the glove was halfway down the wood. He opened his mouth, and bit down on the gloved stick much like a mouthpiece.

Swapping the heated quills to his right hand, Sonic once again grabbed at the bottle. It was still half full. By now, the forest as a whole was silent to Sonic. Even the crackling fire was not registering to the hedgehog. Sonic looked at the exposed bullet wound on his right shoulder and sighed. Bringing the alcohol to the darkened flesh, he began to drain its contents onto the wound.

He bit down harshly on his mouthpiece, but eased up when he reminded himself that this was just the start. He eyed the alcohol level, and stopped once he had released half of the remaining drink. He carefully place the bottle down on the ground, and then sat down next to it. Sonic swapped the quills back to his left hand.

For the first time in his life, Sonic convinced himself to take this slow.

The wound was about three fingers across and relatively parallel to his head when looking straight. Sonic brought the quill to one end of the wound, bit down, and punctured through his skin at an angle. His quill slid right through his flesh and reappeared centered in the wound. Sonic's canine teeth punched through the glove and pierced in the wood beneath. His right arm started to rapidly shake in his lap from the agony of his self suture. With the needle only halfway through, Sonic began to make rapid breaths to force himself to calm down. Finally, he pushed his hand against his shoulder to lift the quill more upright. Finally, he pushed it into the other side of his wound, into his flesh, and out the other end. He spit his mouthpiece out, gripped the now exposed bloody sharp end of the quill with his teeth, and looped the root end around the other end with his left hand. He pulled back with his head and pulled away with his hand, tightening the loop into a knot. He let go with his teeth. In his hands were another three needles. Sonic swore and began to line the second quill up.

With more elegance, Sonic made his second suture. Puncture, flatten, puncture. He once again gripped the end with his teeth, being careful to avoid stabbing himself with the old stitch, and tied the second knot. In his head, Sonic thanked his hedgehog ancestors for blessing him with sharp, thin, and flexible body hair. Soon the third, and fourth quills were inserted and tied off. Eight times Sonic had stabbed through his skin with his own quills, but now it was over.

Looking at his craftsmanship, Sonic smiled and began crying. He picked up his tattered glove off the ground and wiped away the little blood he had drawn on his arm. No new blood was leaving the closed wound. Sonic drank the rest of the alcohol, dumped the now cooled water over the dwindling fire, laid down and passed out.