yk i was hoping schoolwork wouldn't be too bad at first n that i'd be able to maintain the weekly schedule for awhile, but apparently not. i got slammed w work, so sorry bout that y'all. expect future updates to be slower and probably a bit sporadic.
anyways, to make up for it, here's an action packed chapter 4! it's a phat 6k this time around, so enjoy you sick bastards.
usual warnings for lotsa blood/swearing/violence. you know the deal by now.
IV.
faith (fāTH)
[noun]
complete trust or confidence in someone or something.
Shadow came to slowly, his vision dark and fuzzy and his head filled with cotton. He took a deep breath, feeling the stale air wash throughout his system and start to awaken all of his nerves and muscles and bones. Blinking a few times, the hedgehog tried to make out his location, stiff and calculating, but it was too dark to tell.
It eventually came to his attention that he was sitting in a chair of some sort, that felt icy cold against his back. He also started to realize that his arms were tied behind the chair, and that's when the first droplets of fear started to come trickling into his mind.
He tried to pull free from the bonds around his wrists, but it was fruitless. A rush of numbing pins and needles rolled across his arms at the action, and it felt strange and uncomfortable. The same thing happened as he tried to move his feet, which were each bound to the frontal legs of the chair.
Head still warm and foggy, it was difficult to concentrate on how he got here and what was happening. The room he was in was still too dark to make out, and his blurry vision wasn't helping.
"You're awake," a voice suddenly intruded, and it made every bone in Shadow's body grow rigid. The voice was low and warped, chillingly calm, and he knew exactly who it was.
The agent's jaw was still too numb to work, so all he could do was glower as the jackal stalked towards him, a Chaos Emerald poised between his claws.
Infinite chuckled lowly, withdrawing an empty syringe and dangling it before the hedgehog's tired ruby eyes. "You know, it was rather difficult trying to concoct a sedative strong enough to put you to sleep, but this certainly did the trick."
Shadow scowled at the tyrant. His memories were still returning to him in pieces. The last thing he remembered was roaming the wastelands of Holoska, searching for emeralds. He wasn't quite sure how that led him here, but it seemed like whatever substance they injected into him was enough to keep him disoriented for a while—and hopefully not much longer.
"And," the jackal continued, undoubtedly grinning like a maniac beneath his mask, "I must thank you for the emeralds. They're certainly welcome additions to our collection."
Grunting, the ebony agent tried to formulate words, but they came out slurred and quiet. His tongue was being uncooperative. "… What're you gonna do t'me?"
Infinite laughed to himself, inspecting the gem in his hand. It glowed a subdued turquoise, and Shadow could almost feel a bit of its energy feeding into him. If anything, it would help flush out the fatigue from the drugs in his system.
"See, we've currently got a… rodent problem. One of my captives has escaped. And while I would love to trust that Metal can get the job done, he can still be rather incompetent." Leaning in close, the dictator purred into the agent's ear, "So, you, my dear Shadow, are going to be the bait."
With that, Infinite placed a hand to the Phantom Ruby embedded in his chest, before slowly pulling it away as he conjured a carmine scimitar from the strange gem. It looked almost transparent, like a projection, but it was most definitely corporeal. He held the blade to Shadow's throat, and the ebony hedgehog clenched his jaw as it drew a bead of blood. It traveled leisurely down his neck in a thin stream of carmine.
"Now then," the canine said, cocking his head to the side, "Let's get you ready for the cameras."
The streets of Westopolis were almost entirely abandoned. In fact, aside from the debris of various collapsed buildings, and the occasional badnik patrolling around, there were no other signs of life in the once grand city. It was a bit of a relief, in a way, but it also put Gadget on edge, because now all he could think about was where that pack of robots from earlier could've gone.
Miles—who was a fox, he assumed—guided their trek through the metropolis, this time wielding a completely different weapon from the gun he'd used earlier. It was strange looking; only a steel hilt, no blade or anything attached. He figured he'd just have to trust that the kid knew what he was doing.
Gadget was quiet during their journey. There was this childish fear stirring within him that insisted that talking would only draw more enemies to them; so instead, he looked to his inner musings to fill the silence.
Miles was a strange kid. He was just that—a kid—yet he was oddly mature for his age (and if he was telling the truth earlier, he was no older than fifteen). And those weapons the boy had, they were unlike anything Gadget had ever seen. He still couldn't quite understand the purpose of the weird hilt-thing the fox carried, and even that red gun-thing was strangely bulky. Plus, the kid had—had two tails. And he certainly wasn't gonna point it out, or anything (he wasn't rude), but still. It was strange.
"Shit," the younger teen murmured, suddenly. Gadget's amber eyes flickered up to him in question, heart rate spiking at the urgency in the other's tone, before it plummeted to the pit of his gut. A swarm of violet titanium approached from down the street, no doubt some new badniks patrolling. "Over here."
In a blink of an eye, Miles had already ducked behind a car, holding up the strange metal hilt defensively. With only a moment of hesitation, the college student followed suit. They stayed crouched there for a few seconds, and Gadget started nervously fingering the hem of his glove.
"What are they?" the crimson mobian whispered, finally, peeking over the hood of the abandoned vehicle. The bots were getting closer, and it was then that he noticed their strange resemblance to… ostriches? Or some other kind of bird, at least.
"Egg Walkers," the fox replied, his tails swishing around anxiously, betraying his level tone. He fiddled with some buttons on the metal rod he wielded. "They aren't too tough, but there's still, like, ten of them. Just wait here, I'll—"
"No," Gadget said, a little bit too loudly. Both of them flinched at it, but after another quick glimpse at the Walkers, it seemed like they still hadn't noticed them. The wolf took a shaky breath. "… I—I wanna help fight."
Miles rose a brow, but after a moment, pulled out the strange, red gun out of his knapsack, and handed it to the older male. "Fine. The safety's on, by the way. Just hold down the trigger to activate the flames. And don't overuse it—it overheats easily."
The wolf blinked, staring at the device in awe as he flipped off the safety. "The fla—This is a flamethrower?!"
He earned a smirk from Miles. "Something like that. Now c'mon, follow my lead."
With that, the teenager flicked the metal hilt downwards, and during the motion, a stream of electricity protruded out, like some sort of rope. It crackled on the asphalt, shimmering a bright tawny.
Gadget could only gape. "… Is that an electric whip?!" he hissed, fixing his frames.
Miles' smirk widened. "Less talking, more fighting."
"… R-Right."
And without another word, the kit leapt into action, slinging the whip (that was apparently made of pure electricity?) forwards as it wrapped around the torso of one of the robot-ostriches. He yanked the tether back, and the badnik fell forward, sliced into two. He snickered triumphantly, and thumbed his nose.
Tentatively, Gadget started forwards as well, pulling down on the trigger. He gasped as a plume of flames rocketed out of the weapon, engulfing two of the bots and melting them down to worthless puddles of half-solid metal and fizzling circuitry. The blaze felt hot against his face, and the weapon began to burn against his gloved hands. He quickly released the trigger, huffing out in relief.
Without any hesitation, he then swiveled to the right, and was met with the sight of two missiles whizzing right towards him. The red male yelped in surprise, stumbling back. His breath hitched as a lash of lightning flicked through the air and snapped against the rockets, causing them to explode midair. Turning to Miles, he gave an admittedly awkward thumbs-up in thanks.
The fox nodded, an easy smile playing at his lips, before his sapphire orbs bulged. "Look out!"
Caught by surprise, the wolf fell backwards, aimlessly firing his weapon. One of the Walkers lunged towards him at a slightly jarring speed—and it probably would've trampled him if his companion hadn't leapt forward straight at it.
Instantaneously, Miles pressed something on the hilt of his whip, and it contracted back into the steel bar, before a shorter beam of electricity was erected, resembling something like a sword. The boy sliced the elongated neck of the bird-like bot right into two, skidding to a stop as it collapsed to the ground.
"You okay?" the tangerine fox asked. Gadget nodded slowly.
"What kind of weapon is that thing?"
Miles snickered, and opened his mouth to speak, before something else behind the elder caught his attention and he charged after it. The sounds of crackling voltage and the groans of failing machinery could be heard over his shoulder. When the wolf stood back up, all of the Egg Walkers were already destroyed.
The younger boy clicked a button on his weird-lightning-sword, and the current of golden light withdrew back into the hilt. Smiling to himself, he slipped it back into the side pocket of his knapsack. "Hey, uh. Thanks for the help."
Gadget gave a sheepish grin. "I mean, you did most of the work. How'd you learn to fight like that, anyways?"
Suddenly, Miles' face fell, and it seemed like all the progress that had been made to get him to open up was lost. "… Don't worry about it. Let's keep moving."
A pang of guilt in his chest, the college student couldn't find anything to say, simply nodding dejectedly and tailing after him in silence.
They wandered the streets a little while longer, and the late afternoon sun had just began its descent towards the horizon, painting the honey sky a faint peach. It was hard to truly admire it, though, what with all the crumbling skyscrapers blocking the view. The wolf took the time to steady himself and phase out the adrenaline still coursing through his system from the prior battle; his hands still trembled slightly.
Just as Gadget began to ask aloud if they were close to their destination, Miles made a sudden pivot into a small convenience store, with shattered windows barricaded by flimsy oak planks, and the barren shelves inside toppled over like dominoes. Wordlessly, the red mobian followed him inside.
But as he stepped into the tiny building, he instantly ran into Miles, who was halted right at the entrance.
"We gotta be careful," the kit explained. "I rigged the place with traps."
Miles then took a sudden step to the left, promptly leapt forward onto a barely legible 'x' marked on the floor, and proceeded to follow an irregular pathway to the back of the shop. Tentatively, Gadget followed suit, trying to mimic the other's precise actions. If the kid's peculiar, possibly-homemade weapons were anything to go by, he certainly didn't want to deal with the traps he'd created.
After a few minutes of jumping and sliding across the store in a manner that honestly would have embarrassed Gadget, had there been anyone else there to bear witness, the pair reached a strange bookshelf pressed against the back wall. The two-tailed fox grabbed the side of the furniture, and pulled it over to the left. Doing so revealed a hole in the wall, just small enough to crawl through.
"Always slide it to the left," Miles cautioned, before slipping through the fissure. "Also, can you pull that back into place behind you?"
The carmine mobian crept in after the other, and with a groan, pulled the bookshelf back into place. It was clever, hiding this outlet with that. In fact, Miles seemed ridiculously clever for a kid his age. Gadget was starting to think Chaos himself had led him to this fox—although, out of pity or whatever else, he couldn't really say.
Turning back around, the elder male found a small set of spiraling stairs before him. He hopped down them, finding himself in a dank little basement that was no larger than his old college dorm, illuminated by only a dusty lantern and a few candles.
Several cardboard boxes were placed around the walls, most of them taped shut, and only a few torn open. There was a slightly frayed loveseat in the opposite corner of the room, as well as a sleeping bag on the floor beside it. Miles was propped up on one of the cardboard boxes right by the entrance, at the base of the stairs. He was rummaging through another box beside him, eventually pulling out an aluminum can with its label torn off.
Gadget reddened when his stomach growled at the sight.
The fox looked to him and snickered, and taking a small pocket knife from the knapsack by his feet, he pried the can open. He peered inside to contemplate the contents, before shrugging and holding out a rusty spoon to the wolf.
"You like peaches?"
And the crimson boy almost teared up a bit, because, fuck, it had been so long since he'd had real food—even if it was canned. He was used to dumpster-diving for half eaten boxes of stale crackers, so—so this? This was a godsend.
Graciously, he accepted the utensil and scooped out a slice of the fruit, popping it in his mouth. He hummed delightedly as it practically melted on his tongue. It was overly sweetened, but he wasn't complaining. "They're my favorite."
Miles fished a peach out as well, chewing it thoughtfully. He smiled and gulped down the fruit. "Well, good, because this box is loaded with those. But I'm pretty sure there's other things too—I think I had applesauce the other day." He paused to search in the box again, withdrawing another unlabeled can. "Why don't you just take the whole thing? I'm sure you're hungry, and I've got plenty to spare."
Practically beaming, Gadget took the container and began eating more peaches. They tasted like the best thing he'd ever eaten, sweet and mushy and delectable. He'd almost forgotten how much he loved them.
"How'd you find this place, anyways?" the wolf asked through a mouthful of fruit, eyes wandering around the dim room.
The fox pried open his can with the pocket knife to find some nectarine slices, and hastily ate one in his pleasant surprise. "It was abandoned. I dunno how it got here, but one day I just ambled into this store and found that hole in the wall. All the boxes were still here, plus that couch. The sleeping bag was mine, though."
"Well," Gadget remarked in bafflement, "You definitely got lucky, kid."
Miles narrowed his eyes at that, but didn't say anything, instead savoring his own can of fruits. Promptly, he hopped up off the box and dragged his knapsack over to the loveseat. He withdrew the metal hilt from earlier, plus some various tools like a screwdriver and tweezers, beginning to tweak the device.
"You can take the sleeping bag, tonight," said the kit, his teal eyes trained on the weapon. "It's more comfortable than the loveseat—these cushions are hard as rock. Oh, and can I get that wispon back?"
"Wispon?" the elder mobian echoed, face scrunched up in confusion.
The fox chuckled. "Sorry, yeah, the flamethrower. These two both use Wisps' energy—which they provide willingly, I promise," he, curiously, added on. "I wanna add some upgrades to them, though."
Gadget complied and handed over the crimson gun. "The Wisps are those aliens from the news, right?"
Miles simply nodded in response and hummed quietly, heavily concentrated on his work. "They're real friendly. I met them a while ago, and I guess you could say they owed me one, so…" A beat of silence passed between them, and Gadget settled down in the sleeping bag.
Staring up at the ceiling, he wondered aloud, "So, you made those things? The wispons?"
Miles bobbed his head again. "Yeah. I, uh, I've got a knack for inventing stuff."
"That's pretty amazing," he said with a risen brow, "You must be pretty dang smart, huh?"
The fox laughed a little, and it sounded almost wistful. "… Yeah, I guess so."
Silence draped over the pair again, and Gadget decided to relish in it, letting his eyes close shut. Hopefully tonight wouldn't be too ridden by nightmares; today had been—horrific, to say the least, but he had wishful thinking that Miles, and the peaches, and maybe even his memories of his face would get him through the night.
(It was still just wishful thinking, though.)
He ran as fast as he could, legs aching and his throat burning, until he stumbled into the outskirts of a large city.
It was Station Square, he could tell. Despite the toppled buildings and crumbling streets, he could never forget the city that was practically his home. And it was disheartening, devastating, even, to see the metropolis in shambles like this—there was no doubt that the damages were lofty and the death toll even higher. But that same, small spark of hope within himself persisted in his heart, delicate and yet gradually flaring to life. It was the only thing keeping him going.
Sonic jogged to a stop as he reached a street corner, by something of what looked to once be a small café, maybe. It was now nothing but a husk of its formal self, though, with boarded up windows and overturned tables out front. The hedgehog paid it no mind, simply taking a second to sit in one of the still intact chairs and catch his breath.
He rubbed his cramping legs uneasily, a tired frown marring his face. He'd only ran for maybe ten minutes—and yeah, obviously, it had been really fast—but, man, he was out of shape. The speedster supposed he could blame it on having nothing to do in the past five or so months aside from sit around in his cell, but it still bugged him that his strength would be hindered for a while till he could build up some muscle again. Right now, he was probably a bit on the unhealthily-skinny side (but, hey, at least his ribs weren't showing).
The blue blur slouched in his seat, ending his leg massage to simply scan the barren city and drum his fingers restlessly on the table. He could spot a few bots patrolling the streets in the distance, but figured that as long as he kept his head low and stuck to the shadows, he'd be alright for a while.
But despite the somewhat stable game plan formulating in his head, Sonic still was growing more and more tense by the second from the pressing thought in the back of his mind.
He needed to find everyone, before they found him.
With a groan, the hedgehog stood up again, deciding he'd rested long enough already. The sooner he got a move on and found all his friends (his brother, his fiancé) the sooner he could truly rest; the idea of just seeing a familiar face again was unbelievably exhilarating.
Starting down the sidewalk, Sonic screwed up his face in suspicion, holding his new prosthetic to eye-level. He twisted it around, watching the fresh coat of violet paint shimmer in the sunlight. As neat as it looked (Tails would surely get a kick out of analyzing it), something just felt… off about it.
Maybe, he mused grimly to himself, there was a bomb inside of it—and ol' Eggbreath would be able to blow him to pieces at the press of a button. His lips twitched a little at the thought; he wasn't sure if he should be entertained by it, or deeply disturbed (because, honestly, nowadays? It didn't sound completely farfetched).
Maybe, a voice whispered from the back of his head, foreign and distressing and very much unwelcome, there's a tracking device stuck in the arm.
And suddenly his heart plunged.
Not wasting a second, Sonic clawed frantically at his arm socket, where the metal had fused with his flesh, trying manically to pry the damn thing off. It sent needles of sharp pain sending down the prosthetic (he didn't even want to know how they managed to put nerves in a robot-fucking-arm) and across his side. He hissed at the burning sensation, scrunching up his nose as blood started to trickle out from the seam between steel and skin.
After a few more seconds of fruitless clawing, that only resulted in more blood oozing from his arm socket and more shooting pain, the hero finally halted his efforts, leaning his back against the cool wall of a building.
Okay, he finally concluded, so maybe I can't take this thing off.
(Here's hoping he'd run into a certain brainiac fox that could check for any GPS-whatever's installed in the hunk of garbage before disaster struck.)
Pushing back off the wall, the hedgehog continued his sullen trek, only now mentally cursing at himself for the newfound pain in his arm.
Finding his friends. Right. Gotta focus on the positives.
(Except thinking about his friends just made him think about—about then. It made him think about the junkyard, about how he'd failed, about the look of pure horror on Tails' face, the kid who doesn't deserve to ever shed a single tear because dammit he's so young, as a searing pain had snapped across his stomach, blood gushing out, his vision darkening—it just—it all happened so fast and—)
Sonic exhaled deeply, coming to a stop to steady himself. In and out. In and out.
Tails was gonna be okay. They all were. And he was gonna show them that he was okay too. Or at least, that he would be, anyways.
The hedgehog felt his own hand ease onto his stomach. His thumb ghosted along the scar, that was still red and puffy and streaked right down his chest like a bolt of lightning. It was almost unbearable to look at—just reminded him of his failure—but he still couldn't help his temptation to touch it constantly. It was just a subconscious thing, like his mind was still trying to process that that day actually happened.
Lost in his own thoughts, the speedster almost didn't hear the newcomer behind him. Almost.
"I hope you've enjoyed your afternoon stroll."
That voice, sharp and tinny and downright bone-chilling, sent shudders down Sonic's spine. That voice still chased him in his nightmares sometimes. And, lately, it was getting real damn hard to distinguish nightmare from reality. It took a moment to remind himself that this was real, this was really happening, he was probably about to die, before he turned around.
He tried to wear at least a little coolness in his expression as he faced the other—although he probably looked mortified, anyways.
"It's a shame that I must be the one to end it."
Metal Sonic's carmine optics glowered something deadly in the summer heat, engine starting to whirr to life and steel talons twitching with bloodlust. Sonic felt his quills bristle at the sight, and he swallowed thickly.
"C'mon, man, just lemme stop and smell the roses for a bit," the cerulean male said, mentally bashing himself for the slight tremor in his voice. "I—I mean, it's been months since I've seen daylight. Can't blame me for bein' a little curious, can ya'?"
"I suppose not," the machine replied after a brief pause, and it started to circle the hedgehog, steadily and tauntingly. It irked Sonic; he was being toyed with, and he knew it. "But surely you acknowledge the punishments for your noncompliance?"
The blue blur shrugged, keeping his eyes trained on his robotic twin. He went for a cheeky grin, and really hoped he looked confident. "Eh, I mean, sure, I get that you guys are probably super pissed right now. But you see," emerald orbs promptly narrowed to slits, "I'm not planning on goin' back there."
"Your humor fails to reach me, but I can't help but find amusement in the fact that you believe you have an option in this matter."
"Believe me, buddy." Sonic dropped his tone to a snarl, done with the games. He lowered into a stance that was ready to break into a run at any given moment. "You're gonna have to drag my cold, dead body back to that hellhole."
Metal conjured some strange noise from its speakers that he supposed was some sort of scoff. Its ruby eyes searched the hedgehog's face shrewdly. "Infinite would most likely be displeased if I were to terminate you, but… So be it."
In the blink of an eye, Sonic's vision was flooded with a swash of navy blue, as a rock-hard foot of literal steel rammed into his side and sending him flying across the street. The hedgehog skidded to a stop on the ground, before swiftly lunging back onto his feet and flipping out of the way just in time to dodge a bear-tackle from the sadistic bot.
Stumbling a moment as he tried to find his footing, the speedster cried out as steel knuckles then rocketed into his back, and he was flung forwards like a helpless ragdoll. He landed hard against the pavement, forcing himself to roll onto his back just in time to see Metal saunter up to him. It aimed its chest-cannon right at him, engine beginning to alight with a golden radiance. Heart skipping a beat at the sight, the hero pulled his legs up to his chest, before kicking them forwards and upwards, right into the robot's gut.
Metal fell backwards from the force, and Sonic seized the moment to leap onto the bot and shove it to the ground, planting a hand across its face and using his prosthetic arm to start punching the core of its engine. He couldn't help but grin a little triumphantly.
And the machine writhed for a moment, just as the hedgehog started to get caught up in his inner musings of how strong his new limb was, before it managed to latch its digits around his cybernetic elbow and yank down hard.
Sonic yelped at the sudden action, watching fresh blood creep to the surface of the fissure at his shoulder, his emerald eyes misting up at the flare of pain across his entire right half. Metal almost pulled again at the steel arm, before the speedster was able to use his free hand to grab at the silver fingers and meticulously pry them all off himself.
As soon as he was free from its grip, the blue blur jumped backwards and to his feet, baring his fists in anticipation of an attack. But the killer machine took him by surprise, lunging right for his ankles and pulling him back to the ground. His quills did little to cushion the impact of his skull slamming into the asphalt.
He yelled out in pain at the blow, the world slowing briefly as his vision dulled a tad. A metal body crawled over him and started grabbing at his throat, barbed fingers jabbing into flesh. With his violet arm, Sonic managed clutched onto the side of Metal's skull and thrust it down to the left, smashing it against the road.
Its head crumbled satisfyingly, the pressure of Sonic's metal arm causing its cranium to cave a bit inwards, and its glass optics to fracture. The hedgehog seized the chance to push it harder against the ground, hoping that maybe he could damage some internal hardware. Unfortunately, his moment of victory was cut short as the bot sent a metal boot right into his kneecap, and pain splintered across the bone, forcing him to recoil. Metal took the opportunity to grab a hold of his fleshy bicep and push off the ground with its jetpack.
The nemeses shot through the air, the robot using its jet's propulsion to send them straight into a building, as it proceeded to slam Sonic back against the cement wall. Metal dug the claws of its free hand into his chest, drawing pinpricks of blood, as it began strangling him with the other.
Sonic flailed helplessly, kicking and wheezing, but his energy was running out and his vision was blurring around the edges. All his mind could do was scream at him, scream at him to get away and survive.
Thinking only on instinct, the speedster threw his head forwards, colliding right into Metal's navy blue plating. Sonic groaned in pain, muscles slackening a bit as his head spun because what the fuck, why did he do that, he can't head-butt a fucking robot, but surely enough his psychotic twin relinquished its grip and stumbled backwards, giving him a moment to breathe.
Refusing to let go of his advantage now, Sonic scrambled to grab at the machine, getting a good grip on its shoulder before throwing it against the wall just beside himself. Luckily enough, the space of wall next to him happened to be a window, and he grinned triumphantly as its steel head smashed right through the glass, optics flickering in and out for a moment. It pulled itself forwards, pausing to collect itself, a couple shards of the window pane sticking out of its head.
With a heavy gasp of air, and color starting to seep back into his eyesight, the blue blur took a couple steps back and rubbed his temples. "Chaos, fuck—"
His knees soon buckled underneath him and he fell to a kneeling position, hardly restraining a pained moan as his probably-shattered kneecap exploded in agony again. His entire skull was throbbing, too, and blood was now streaming steadily from his right shoulder. His fleshy hand trembled uncontrollably as he used it to apply pressure to the socket.
Suddenly, a shadow of blue overtook his vision and he sputtered at the realization that Metal was still fucking kicking. Sonic had no time to react before a hand of icy steel snapped back around his neck and pulled him into the air, squeezing harshly.
"You've brought this upon yourself, you insolent hedgehog," his doppelganger sneered, as it slowly pulled out a large shard of glass from the top of its head. "But do not worry. As soon as the Phantom Ruby shard is embedded into you, you will no longer be able to resist our power."
Sonic clawed desperately at the metal hand that tightened around his airway, barely choking out a muted "what the hell?" in confusion, despite the darkness creeping up on him. What did that mean? What shard?
Before he could do anything else, though, Metal stabbed the glass piece into his side in one swift motion. It—It wasn't as deep as the last time he'd been stabbed, in the junkyard. But he could vaguely register the splatter of blood spray from his throat, as his body went starkly cold. He—He couldn't breathe at all, anymore, he couldn't think straight. His knee and his arm were both on fire, a-and the glass—the glass felt like it was sapping away all the blood left in his body. Despite the numbness that crawled across his limp form, he registered a trail of crimson sap pouring down from the wound.
Metal proceeded to unceremoniously drop the writhing hedgehog to the ground, its piercing gaze merciless as it glared at him. Sonic yelped as his leg bent from the force of the fall and his knee cracked, another spear of pain rocketing up his thigh. He landed on his back, and the gushing blood from the stab wound quickly began to pool around him.
Steel claws wrapping around his ankle, the robot began to drag him across the asphalt. And, dazedly, it took the hero a while to realize what was happening. As his mind caught up to the situation, he started grunting and kicking, trying to get away. The pavement was rough against his skin and left scrapes along his body.
"Mmph—lemme go, ya'… you hunk of garb'ge…" he slurred out, concussion getting the best of him. He clawed uselessly at every little piece of debris that could stop Metal from pulling him any further.
He was fucked. They were—they were gonna put the Phantom-whatever in him, and who even knew what effects that would reap. They were gonna be ruthless. Because Infinite was gonna be pissed.
Metal didn't even look over its shoulder as it snapped, "Be quiet, or you will only make this worse for yourself."
Sonic moaned out helplessly as a piece of rubble dug into his right arm socket, eliciting another jolt of pain. "Please," he half-sobbed, "I… I can't go back there…"
In response, the mech only tensed its grip around his ankle, steel fingertips digging into his flesh. Consciousness quickly fleeting, the azure mobian could do nothing more than whimper softly, as his vision turned gray and fuzzy.
It was all slipping away so fast, that he barely caught a glimpse of the burst of white light a few meters away, the silhouette of a strangely familiar hedgehog emerging from it, before everything was drowned out by the ringing in his ears and the darkness in his vision.
"Knuckles, wait!"
Her heart leaping into her throat, Amy grabbed the echidna's hand and pulled him to a stop. He teetered just before the edge of a cliff, and she internally sighed in relief knowing he was safe, now. For a few seconds, the pair could only stand there in a strange state of shock, muscles still throbbing from their sprint through the woods, and heavy breaths breaking the uneasy silence.
The roar of engines in the distance was drawing closer, rekindling the sense of urgency in the ruby guardian. Swallowing thickly, he glanced around the area, searching for some sort of escape. And, in the back of his head, it vaguely registered that he was still holding the hedgehog's hand—and, yes, maybe it should've been a little awkward, given what had just happened between them only a few minutes ago, but… It was oddly comfortable. At the very least, she wasn't pulling away either.
Amy stepped a bit closer to the drop, peering over the edge. "Hey, look. It's not actually that steep. Come on."
The bubblegum warrior crouched down, before hopping down it like it was some sort of slide at a playground. She skidded down the slope about ten or so meters before finding herself in a strange pit of sorts. Knuckles followed her down warily.
"So, what—"
"Knuckles," she suddenly gasped, staring across the ditch in awe. "Look."
Frowning just slightly in confusion, he followed her gaze. Amethyst orbs quickly settled on what he assumed he was looking for, and a stupid grin spread across his muzzle.
The Master Emerald.
With newfound elation, the two darted forwards, almost forgetting about their pursuers. As they approached the gargantuan gem, though, their joy started to ebb away. Amy came to a stop about a foot away from it, but Knuckles dared to get a bit closer, hovering his mitts over its surface.
"What's…" the girl murmured, "What's wrong with it?"
The echidna's lips twitched, and he furrowed his brows in concern. "… I don't know."
He wasn't exactly sure what had happened to the emerald, just that it was wrong. There were miniscule fissures running all along its once pristine surface, and a few small clusters of some alien, red crystal was scattered across it. The Master was propped up on some tiny cement pedestal, and various black wires snaked out from it, running back up the sides of the pit. Honing in on its energy, Knuckles could sense something unstable stirring beneath its surface. It… It wasn't right.
Amy piped up, "Uh—hey, Knuckles? We've got a problem."
With slight reluctance, the echidna turned back to face her, about to ask just what could be more important than this, when his heart stopped. All along the perimeter of the crater, a swarm of motobugs glared down at the duo. Hovering up above was a squadron of rather angry-looking buzz bombers. Looks like they found them.
"Shit," he grumbled, anxiety building in his gut as the motobugs began to rev their engines challengingly. They were outnumbered by a lot. Hastily, Knuckles whipped back around, starting to rip off the chords hooked up to the base of the Master Emerald. "Amy, hold them off for me—I gotta get this out of here."
Conjuring her piko hammer with a flick of her wrist, the hedgehog nodded affirmatively. "Don't worry about me, I got this."
Just in time, the insect-like bots surrounding them began to speed down the slopes of the ditch and rain down a barrage bullets from above. Clenching her mallet tighter, Amy cried out in fury and charged straight for the swarm of machines.
In the midst of the chaos, the guardian knelt down before the mystical gem, his gaze chary and worried. He inhaled deeply through his nose, hovering his hands just above its surface. He could feel the raw heat of it, wild and dangerous, and it gave him goose-bumps. Whatever had happened to the Master, it had been horrible.
"Just let me in. I want to help you," he whispered to it. With a deep exhale out through his mouth, Knuckles closed his eyes and eased his mitts onto the emerald.
Immediately, his vision was flooded with a bright, fiery red light.
a sneak peak of what happened to shadow! some miles n gadget bonding! and sonic's in a bit of a pickle :/ (but who's that mysterious hedgehog,,?) also, what in the world happened to the master emerald?!
guess y'all just gotta wait n see :) smell ya later, nerds.
