Author's Notes:

Sorry for the delay, I really don't have a desire to write right now. However, looking at my unedited chapters, I have already finished this story. So, I am going to continue editing them and hopefully get them out to you soon. Just know that there are is only one chapter after this and the epilogue, both of which have already been written.

Few people have truly ever wiped someone from existence. However, when a person does, he usually goes about it by first instilling fear into those he rules. Then by finding those who oppose him and killing them. But simply killing a person isn't enough, one needs to make it look like this person never existed. And how does this man do it? He rids the name from any papers or documents, the face from any pictures, the memory from all those who are still capable of thought. But does this really mean this person never existed? If a tree falls in the forest, does it make a sound?

It's all in the mind.

No one can wipe a person from existence. Once someone has existed, he or she will always exist. A person can strip everything from them, even their life, but you can't strip their existence.

Espio still exists.

He's not alive, nor can one find him on the Spirit Trail, but he does exist. He exists in the minds and hearts of those who remember him. Correction: He exists in the mind and heart of the single person who remembers him. To everyone else, he is nothing or simply a possible person who may one day exist as the character of a story.

~.~

"Ironic isn't it? You've practically been controlling life and death itself. How does it feel to have all that power?"

A low groan escapes from the cat as she forces herself to her feet. There is nothing binding her to the living world anymore, nothing stopping her from going about and enjoying whatever death has to offer her. The problems of the lower world seem non-existent in light of the wonders of the Spirit Trail.

"It's nice." Honey responds, rolling her shoulders and stopping when she hears a satisfying 'crack'.

"You sure? I mean, look at all the pain you've caused."

"Yes, I intend to fix that." Honey responds nonchalantly, casually strolling along the soft grassy path. A gentle wind blows, ruffling the leaves on the trees beside the path, lulling Honey into a sense of security.

"Why? What have those people ever done for you? They've beaten you, hurt you, banished you. Let them solve their own problems. You should rest." Suddenly the voice switches sides, it's tone lowering to a slightly more ominous one.

"Why are you here?" Honey easily evades the question, continuing her walk down the endless path.

"Because you have ruthlessly tortured so many people." Once again the voice switches to the other side, taunting her with all her failures.

"Really, I wish you'd go away." The retort is flippant as Honey swipes at the air beside her ear, hoping to knock away the annoying voice. With a soft 'poof' from beside the girl, the voice is gone, and the girl is left in silence to ponder over recent events.

She has to undo this. Mobotropolis and Robotropolis are in ruins. Even Eggman seems to be doing nothing as the world crumbles and falls around him. Sonic, Knuckles, Tails, all the heroes are missing. The Chaotix is left confused, doing jobs that really aren't their own in a land that isn't theirs. And unfortunately, the Chaotix aren't trained for work like this. They are heroes, yes. But they are still only the B-team for New Mobotropolis. They don't deal with the masses of people; they aren't the signal for hope.

Because the signals for hope have been forgotten. They have been wiped from existence.

But what about her? Honey has her own dreams and desires, her own wants, her own selfish needs. She doesn't want to stay here and at the same time—she doesn't want to return to being an outcast. She wants the life she had a long time ago. She wants to be a member of the Chaotix. She wants to be loved. She had a relationship with Mighty and she wants to rekindle that, to have her best friend back.

She hates being a hero.

She hates everything about that life. But, she wouldn't want it any other way.

~.~

The Spirit Trail is a strange place for those unaccustomed to its route. The newly dead are always a little disoriented when they find themselves in this new world, simply standing on a literal trail. Their family always finds the person and helps him or her along. It's the only way to really learn one's way around the trail.

But, Mighty isn't an amatuer. Although he mightn't have the extensive knowledge of the trail that others do, his knowledge far exceeds that of a novice. The problem is, his knowledge isn't to the extent of those currently manipulating the Spirit Trail. Finding Honey would serve to be a challenge, the girl could be anywhere in the vast expanse and he can't find any of the booths used to locate people. Perhaps because they no longer exist.

So, Mighty does the only thing he can, he starts walking. He doesn't know in which direction he is walking or which direction he should be walking. All he does is walk. He doesn't even follow the trail, knowing very well that many of the spirits reside deeper within the plane.

The armadillo slowly watches as color once again finds its way to the Trail, bringing the desolate Trail back to life. Slowly, more and more spirits come into view of the armadillo as more and more people are successful in their death. Families that had been long dead return to the homes they had made for themselves on the Spirit Trail, seemingly happy with the option to return to the life that was once theirs. It's a lovely sight, watching as the grass returns to its vibrant green. The bark of nearby trees turns varying shades of brown. The flowers that had been white turn gorgeous hues of yellow, orange, red, blue, purple, and pink. The scene before him unfolds quickly, as though winter had turned to spring within a couple of minutes.

Looking to his left, the armadillo watches as a woman is rejoined with a young girl. The two hug and laugh, their jubilance filling the air and washing over Mighty. A man then walks to the pair, a calm and welcoming smile on his face. There is no fear of their death in his smile, just a joy of seeing his loved ones again. The little girl jumps from her mother's arms and dashes to the man, hopping into his arms and pulling him into a tight hug. The woman approaches the two at a leisurely pace, taking each into a wide hug. Death which had always been raved for being negative has its upsides.

"It's so peaceful here," Mighty murmurs to himself, watching the family as they start up a conversation. The Spirit Trail seemed like such a nice place, a place where happiness and serenity skipped hand in hand through the meadows.

However, the armadillo knows that he has other work to do. Both the living world and the one of the Trail are at risk with the demi-gods still running rampant. He needs to find Honey so that she can right all of this, even if that means passing on the desire to be with the rest of his family for the time being.

Mighty smiles, looking around. The sky is the brightest of blues, with little clouds floating around, contorting into different shapes for the viewing those on the Trail. Crisp, green grass rustles around him as a gentle breeze blows through the warm meadows. It's hard for the armadillo to concentrate and not get caught up in the haze that is the Spirit Trail, the idea of abandoning his mission and finding his family and cloud-watching all day floats through his head. Today would also be a nice day to fly kites. He hadn't flown kites with his parents in ages. It had always been a rarity for his parents to find the time to do simple things such as flying kites. The life of a thief had always been a very busy one, leaving little time for the simple things. Mighty shakes his head. He needs to stop thinking about this. His parents are dead. But his sister, Matilda hadn't died yet. She was alive out there somewhere, probably suffering because of the demi-gods and their quest to rule everything. Sighing, Mighty pushes onwards, ignoring all the people simply enjoying the afterlife.

Slowly, the blue sky fades into indigo, and from indigo it fades into purple. Spots of white dot the sky in the makeshift night of the Spirit Trail. Even a yellow moon pokes out from beyond the horizon, bathing the meadow in a soft light. Mighty yawns, his body still unaccustomed to the lack of time in the Spirit Trail. Perhaps a nap beside that big tree wouldn't be too detrimental to his goal. Even if he were to fail his mission, so many people would wish to return to the Trail that he would succeed, right? And once enough people have died, the real world will fix itself, correct? Then why did he believe that taking a nap was such a terrible idea?

The armadillo kept pushing on, even as the purple grew darker and darker, into blackness. The stars slowly seemed to disappear and the moon was no longer in range. The grass that had once been blowing beneath his feet turned to mud, which slowly hardened into dirt as the armadillo continued on. The once warm air now had an icy tinge, pinching at the armadillo's nerve and occasionally getting a shiver out of him.

Had Mighty not been so terrified, he would have smirked. He had found it, the place where the three Demi-gods are probably residing. This is where they would keep Honey, away from all of the happy people, a place where they could control her with her own pain.

But how would he get in? Entering into the lair of an evil demi-god wasn't easy business, and definitely not something that should be taken lightly. He didn't know the scope of their powers, but the armadillo had reason to believe that if he slipped up in any way, death would only be a dream for him.

Sighing, the armadillo ducks beside a wall, slowly crawling around said wall, looking for any weaknesses or openings that he could possible exploit.

~.~

The path was a nice one, occasionally winding and passing through what could be considered heavily crowded areas of the Spirit Trail. The lynx knows exactly where she's going, she knows what lies at the end of the 'infinite' Spirit Trail. But the girl had to plan. She couldn't just appear at the demi-god's doorstep and throw random wishes at them. They would laugh and probably have her expunged from existence, just as Espio was.

That is why she took her time. True, people were suffering with every step she took. But, even the slightest of a misstep would lock this road in a never ending hell. If not her, who would be able to save the world? No one, and that was the dark truth. She had a tough decision to make. Should she let a few suffer now, or risk the chance of millions of others suffering? She had made her decision a long time ago: she would let those suffer now.

But, to the task at hand. She needed to be quick and precise. She needed the perfect wish, a wish that would not only fix her mistakes, but allow her to live the life she always wanted. She wanted to stay with Mighty, to fix the mess she had gotten herself into all those years ago.

She couldn't wish for something silly or vague. Everyone knows the tales of the genies who take wishes and twist them to hurt others. These demigods wanted to maintain their power, and she had yet to meet the person who actually granted her wishes. If that person wasn't on her side, then that being would purposefully screw her over. She had to be careful.

By now, she had left the main part of the plane and was starting to walk along the more obscure part of the trail. She was getting closer. Her will to reach the castle was too strong, it was speeding up her journey. The girl pauses exactly where she is. She could blink, take a couple more steps and be at the gates of the castle. But she wasn't ready, she had yet to decide how to fix her mistakes.

~.~

"Insolent armadillo, there isn't a blind spot at our fortress. It was foolish of you to try and come here."

Mighty jumps from his hiding spot, looking around for the source of the sound. Nothing. Not a single being within sight.

"Silly mortal, you believe I must manifest my physical being to produce a sound."

Had he not been so afraid, Mighty might've laughed. A voice coming from nowhere and the owner of said voice claiming to be some all-powerful being, hilarious. But Mighty had been the butt-end of this joke a couple too many times to simply play it off as a gag. These demi-gods, or whatever they wished to be called are no laughing matter.

"Where are you?" Mighty asks to himself. Did he expect an answer? Not at all. But there was comfort in hearing his voice aloud. Something to break up the silence and the sound of his upcoming death.

"Everywhere." The voice cackles in response.

Mighty takes a defensive stance, his eyes darting from place to place. How could he defend himself? How could he do anything?

Memories of his time at the camp surfaced in his mind, how he had been powerless as soon as those restraints had been placed on him. How it had taken so long to save himself and Ray and in the process how he had left someone behind. "Come out from wherever you are. Show yourself!"

"No," the response is so flippant that Mighty is almost taken off-guard. And that moment of weakness costs him, for in that moment, something sweeps down and grasps him, taking him away.