Recursion Error

Episode 7- Glove culture sucks


"You want a stun baton?"

"Stun baton. Electric truncheon. Zap rod. Something along those lines." Sorun shrugged his shoulders. "Tails, there's only so many different ways I can say I want a stick that shocks things. I'm runnin' outta nouns here."

It wasn't like it was the most selfish request in the world. Maybe him rushing into Freedom HQ and ambushing Tails while he was in the kitchen eating a sandwich wasn't the most tactful way he could have gone about this, but on the other hand there weren't many better ways of going about and asking something like this.

He wanted that weapon, though. He really wanted it.

Tails blinked at his request in surprise, and then slowly set the half-eaten sandwich down on a plate in front of him as he gave the human his full attention. "Why do you want something like that?"

Leaning back in the chair he'd pulled up next to Tails' chair, Sorun pointed a finger at the young fox. "Lemme ask you something, Tails. You fight Eggman's robots, right?"

"That's... correct...?"

"And you're actually out there personally destroying them?"

The yellow Mobian slowly nodded. "When the situation calls for it, yes," he said. "I usually bash them to pieces with my tails or spin into them to destroy them."

"Okay, see, this is where my point lies." Sorun propped both his elbows on the table and leaned in closer. "You're eleven. Still growing. But you can destroy robots just by hitting them since you're a Mobian." He stuck his thumbs out at himself. "I'm sixteen. Technically not fully mature, but speaking in practical terms I'm pretty close, so the difference is negligible. But I'm a human, Tails, so if I try hitting a robot I'm gonna break something. You see where I'm going with this?"

Tails hummed in understanding. "I'd heard humans and Overlanders weren't as physically apt as Mobians, but I didn't know it was this bad. You really can't-?"

"Tails, it's hard enough admitting an eleven-year-old is however many times stronger than me. Don't make me go into further detail with this."

The younger between the two raised his gloved hands in defense. "Okay, okay, I get it." He drummed his fingers along the table in thought. "Why a stun baton?"

"'Cause they're robots, right? So I figured, y'know, robots are weak to electricity, so I could go with that."

"Where did you get the idea that robots are weak to electricity?"

Sorun opened his mouth to answer, closed it, then turned to avoid Tails' gaze. "... Video games," he admitted.

The answer elicited a sigh from the fox, followed by him rubbing at his forehead. "I hate to tell you this, but Eggman uses EMP shielding on all of his creations. That's electro-"

"Electromagnetic pulse, yeah, I know what EMP stands for." Sorun looked back to Tails. "So electrical-anything won't work on Badniks?"

He shook his head. "Nope. Sorry."

"Dang." Certainly not the answer he would have wanted to hear. He'd had great plans for that stun baton. "Well, you gotta give me something, man. I'm gonna get creamed if I go out there with nothing. I'd personally just like a gun, but Rotor's running his weird anti-gun policy and apparently they're useless against robots, so I need something I can swing."

"Normal ballistics, yeah, but energy-based projectiles and heavy munitions work fine against them." Sorun would have words with Rotor if he got the chance. "Where did you even get the idea for using a weapon?" Tails asked him.

"Uh... someone pointed out using a weapon, and I noticed that Antoine had a sword," Sorun answered, "so I thought, 'why not just get a weapon?'"

"So get a sword like Antoine's," Tails suggested. "He cuts apart Badniks like nothing with it."

Sorun's eyes widened when he heard that. He'd seen the sword, sure, but he hadn't pegged him as the kind of person that would be going around cutting robots in half with a sword. That alone made his respect for the coyote raise a little, even if he did speak butchered French. He didn't even think it was possible to cut titanium-plated robots apart with a normal sword, but apparently in Mobian hands it was possible.

Unfortunately, his hands were human and rather frail in comparison.

"I'd love a sword, Tails, but I'm not Antoine. Any blade I swing is just gonna bounce off a robot's chassis because of my weak human muscles."

"Oh, yeah." The fox rubbed inquisitively at his chin. "A hammer? One of the Freedom Fighters, Amy, uses a hammer. You could have her help you."

With a frown, Sorun's eyes traveled down to his arms. His rather unimpressive arms that were thin even by human standards. His arms that looked like they didn't even have any muscles. And try as he might, he couldn't see these arms holding a hammer of any kind.

"... Tails, I'm not even that strong compared to other humans," he admitted, "so I think we can cross off anything that needs more than one hand to hold. Anything bladed won't work, either, so it needs to be blunt. Hey, you know what fits in that criteria? A stun baton!"

"Electricity still won't do anything to Badniks," Tails reminded him.

"Okay, fine, normal baton then." He clasped his hands together in a pleading gesture. "I know asking you to make me something after all the terrible things I did makes me look really low, but I wouldn't be asking if I didn't need it. And I really need it."

Tails sent him a look of understanding and smiled. "It's okay, Sorun. I understand. I'll see what I can do."

Relief flooded the human. "Great, man. Thanks." He gave the Mobian a thumbs-up as the other returned to his sandwich. Sorun chose that time to get out of the chair he was in and exit the HQ's kitchen.

He felt a little disappointed that he wasn't able to get the stun baton, but the normal baton was better than nothing. His main worry was that he would still amount to nothing even with the baton, because there were large doubts in his mind that hitting titanium-plated robots with a stick was much better than hitting them with his hands.

At the very least, it was better than nothing. He just didn't know how far above nothing it was. But maybe Tails would pull through for him and give him something he could actually use. He wasn't completely sure on entrusting his survival to an eleven-year-old, either, but at the same time that eleven-year-old could do things Sorun couldn't even dream of doing himself along with everybody else around him, so he wasn't one to nitpick.

"But man, would my life be easier if they would just let me use a gun," Sorun thought. "'Freedom Fighters don't use-' I'm so tilted at that statement. I'm technically not even a real Freedom Fighter. I'm a temp if anything. And I'm putting my life on the line here, so the least they could do is give me a decent advantage so I don't have to ask a kid to make me a stick!"

It genuinely angered him, and Tails telling him there were ranged weapons that worked against Badniks only made him madder. And he doubted he could ever convince Rotor to change his mind, considering he wasn't on the best standing with him. Even if he apologized to Tails, at best that made him neutral in his book.

On the other hand, Sally, who Sorun saw walking past him as he made his way through the HQ's main room, should have been rather high in that book. And all of a sudden the possibility of getting a gun didn't seem to be an impossibility.

"Hey, yo, Sally Sally Sally." Sorun bolted right in front of the Mobian, and his sudden appearance had startled her enough to make her jump in surprise. "Look, could you talk to Rotor? We were talking yesterday and he brought up this whole 'guns are bad' argument. Is that a real thing? No guns in the Freedom Fighters?"

The other teen calmed down quickly from her surprise and affixed him with a questioning look in response to Sorun's question. "Why do you want a gun?" she asked.

"... You've seen me, right?" He looked down at himself and gestured to his body. "I'm a human. I'm squishy and fragile."

"You know Mobians are flesh and blood just like humans, right?" She gave him a wry grin. "We're squishy, too."

"Yeah, but do you know what you all have that I don't? The ability to destroy a robot without your body exploding because it evolved to handle that kind of stress." He flipped a hand up before it flopped down to his side. "Not all of us evolved from gene bomb soup, you know, which I'm pretty sure is the only reason you're all able to do this stuff."

Her eyes squinted in confusion, and then slowly opened wide as realization dawned on her. "Oh, I think I seem the problem," she mumbled as she grasped at her chin in thought. "Right. Humans aren't very strong."

"I'm right here, you know."

Sally shushed him and held up her free hand. A few seconds passed as she thought, and then she slowly sighed as she lowered her hands. "So what's your plan?"

"My plan is that I asked Tails to make me a baton, but these are titanium robots we're talking about, Sally. They could be made of aluminum foil and I'd still be too weak to take them on."

She gave him a skeptical look. "Really?"

"... Okay, fine, even I could take on aluminum foil robots, but they're not, Sally. They're titanium."

"Yeah, and those are just the weaker ones," she informed him. "But Rotor's right. The Freedom Fighters don't use guns. I realize you're a bit nervous-"

"I'm scared to death, Sally."

"I get it, but we can't make an exception." She gave him a sympathetic look. "I'm sorry, really. But we can't."

Sorun groaned, and then ran his hands over his eyes. "But why? You're seriously not going to let me use a gun because of some arbitrary no-gun rule?" His voice grew an octave deeper. "'Oh, the Freedom Fighters can't be seen using guns. No sirree.' It's stupid," he complained with his normal voice.

"That's not- it's complicated, okay?" Sally closed her eyes and held a hand up to her forehead. "There's a general dislike of guns and similar ranged weaponry among the Mobian populace," she explained to him. "It's mostly from the Great War with the Overlanders. You wouldn't believe how much heavy artillery they used. They had all their soldiers use guns. I only heard stories, but it sounded awful."

"Uh... yeah." She must have been expected some reaction from him, because when Sally opened her eyes she looked surprised at Sorun's nonplussed face. "War was fought the same way where I'm from," he said. "Armies fought by shooting each other and blowing each other up. Not necessarily in that order."

She blinked in shock at him. "Why are your people so drawn to fighting with guns?"

"'Cause it's easy. And they do a lotta damage." After saying this, Sorun spluttered and waved his hands above his head.. "What do you want from me? You point and shoot, enemy goes down. It's a million times more efficient than fighting hand-to-hand, and I'm not surprised the Overlanders took the gun route considering they were fighting a whole race of animal people that could evidently bend them into pretzels!" He coughed and turned his head to the side after Sally crossed her arms and gave him a perturbed look. "But, uh... I guess lotta Mobians got gunned down in that war, huh?"

She stiffly nodded. "Yes. A lot."

Maybe bragging about how great is whole race thought guns were wasn't the wisest argument for him to make in his defense, and it was only now that Sorun realized it. And now an unsettled feeling was beginning to grow in his gut as he saw that downcast expression Sally held.

He cleared his throat and turned back to her. "You know I'm not condoning the wholesale slaughter of Mobians or anything like that, right? I'm, uh... I'm just saying. Guns. They're really effective."

"I know, Sorun. I'm not upset at you or anything." She didn't sound too convincing from the shaky breath she took. "Mobians don't like guns because of the Overlanders," she said with a flat expression. "That isn't to say they're banned outright. In fact, there were a few select Mobians during the war that stole Overlander weapons to use against them, and even some to this day that use guns based on their designs, but Mobians like that are few and far between. Guns generally invoke negative responses among Mobians, partly due to the trauma they inflicted in that war, and mainly because they're seen as weapons that are, well... dishonest to use. Cheap. Cheating, you could say."

Sorun shook his head in disbelief. "What the- Sally, you can't cheat in war-"

"I know, but that's not how the people see it," she interrupted, and then sighed. "Look, bottom line is that the Freedom Fighters are more than a ragtag group of rebels, despite appearances," she added when she saw Sorun raise an eyebrow. "We're a symbol of hope and freedom for the people. What does it look like when we start using weapons everybody is afraid of? That we have to resort to those things? The people start losing hope and trust in us, and what are we supposed to do if it grows to the point they don't want us to save them? What then?"

The human teen blew air out of his nose and rubbed the back of his head. "I mean... I guess you're right," he conceded, "and I get that normal guns don't really do much to robots anyways, but wouldn't it be a bit easier on you all if at least a few people used energy weapons or something?"

She shot down his idea with a shake of her head. "They're too similar to guns, and weapons like those aren't easily manufactured," Sally explained. "I know it might be frustrating from your perspective, Sorun, but please try to understand our position."

He wanted to argue the point more, but he couldn't find it in himself to do so. Because he actually understood the argument she was making, and while he still thought it was extremely foolish to not use guns, he did understand where they were coming from. That and the pleading look she was sending him made him hesitate in even trying to think of a way to counter her argument, and in the end he ended up making a long, drawn-out groan while throwing his head back.

"Fine. Fine, I'll drop the whole gun thing," Sorun said.

A relieved smile spread across Sally's face, and she gave him a thankful nod. "Thank you, Sorun. And don't worry too much; I'm sure the baton idea will turn out to be great."

"Guess we'll see. Here's hoping."

"Hah, yeah... Hey, Sorun?" Her eyes had wandered down to his torso, and Sorun saw that her nose briefly wrinkled. "How long have you been wearing those clothes?"

He felt his body tense up. "I didn't exactly have a spare set of clothes on me when I got dragged here," he said, "so I haven't been able to wash my clothes because I wouldn't have anything else to wear in the meantime. I tried showering with my clothes on, but it- it just didn't work, Sally. You ever try walking around with wet socks? It's the worst feeling in the world."

There'd been an unbearable amount of disappointment, too, when his "wash his clothes with him in it" idea didn't pan out. Because his clothes were starting to become rank, and it was a problem he was rapidly running out of solutions to. And now somebody had noticed, the one thing he had been most afraid of. And the worst part, which he just now realized, was that everybody probably had a stronger sense of smell than he did due to being evolved animal people.

He really hoped he was wrong in that theory, but Sally taking a step back away from him wasn't a good sign.

"Oh man, this is super embarrassing..." Sorun thought, and then unconsciously brushed some of his hair in front of his face to try and hide his expression from Sally.

"Well, um... oh!" Sally's eyes lit up. "That could work. Hang on a second."

Her hand reached into the inside of her blue vest as she began to search for something. Curiosity briefly crossed Sorun's mind, but grew too skittish to look closer when he remembered that she worse nothing but that open vest on her torso. So he made a light cough and looked away.

"Around a month ago Eggman burned down a fairly populated village near Knothole. We managed to evacuate everybody, thankfully, but the kingdom had to take them all in since they had nowhere else to go," Sally explained as she continued to dig around in her vest. "One of the Mobians that moved into the city was a cat named Honey. She's a tailor. A, uh... bit eccentric, but she's honestly talented in her trade."

"Okay...?" Sorun slowly turned to look at Sally, but his head snapped back away when he saw her still looking inside her vest.

"I don't think you're going to find a lot of places that will sell clothing that can fit you, even if you are around our size. But she does custom work for clients, so maybe she could help you out. Oh, here it is." She pulled out a small drawstring bag as Sorun looked back, and she lightly tossed it to him. Sorun's hand shot up to catch it, and experimentally shook it to get a feel what was inside. He felt the sensation of many small, circular objects rattling around inside the bag.

"Is this... this is money?" he asked.

Sally nodded. "Mobiums," she clarified. "We get donations from the royal dowry, so I'll just write it off as an expense for the Freedom Fighters. Don't worry too much about it and just get yourself some clothes, alright?"

Sorun blinked at the bag, and then tilted his head up to Sally. "Are you sure? 'Cause this seems like a lot and-"

"Freedom Fighters expenditure," she reiterated. "You're one of us now. You need more than a single set of clothes. It's completely fine." She stepped past him. "I've got something important to do, so you'll have to find her shop yourself. Just ask around the city and you'll find it in no time."

He didn't even get a chance to say anything in return before she disappeared out of sight through a door, which left Sorun standing alone in the middle of Freedom HQ dumbly staring at the wall with a bag of money held in his hand.

"Getting pity money from a princess for clothes. Not even a week into this world and I've already hit rock bottom." His eyes didn't stop staring ahead as he pocketed the bag of money. "Tch. 'Mobiums'. I really am in hell."


It took some doing, but he finally had found that tailor shop. It had taken a half hour of asking anybody who didn't give him odd looks and wandering around aimlessly after he reached Knothole City, but he finally found the place.

There wasn't much to say about the outside. It was a large, wooden structure like most other buildings and houses in the kingdom. What was different was the large display window out front with wooden mannequins displaying articles of clothing. The large sign above the door that said "Honey's" in large, stylized golden letters was also a big hint for him.

"Eccentric, huh?" Sorun muttered under his breath. "Oh, what have you gotten me into, Sally?"

He had a lot of reservations about the place on first glance, but he did need those clothes, and Sally had made it sound like this was his best bet. So the pale teen had taken a deep breath and walked through the front door before he could have second thoughts.

The first thing he noticed was the small chime he heard from the bell above the door he walked through. The second thing he noticed as the door swung behind was how distinctly vibrant the inside of the shop was: pink carpeting, yellow wallpaper with orange stripes, bright lighting, and a wide plethora of clothes packed on shelves all around the shop. Shoes, shirt, dresses and other clothing items of various styles and colors practically littered the place, and all of that was just what he saw upon entering the place.

It was all so colorful that he almost felt as ill as when he first entered Mobius, and had to rub at his eyes to sooth them.

"I-is someone there?" he heard a female voice call out. "Just a minute, please!"

Sorun's ears perked up, and he looked towards the sound of the voice to find a counter at the rightmost side of the shop, next to the door he just entered through. He could vaguely see a figure hunched over and a long tail waving in the air above it as the figure rummaged around on the ground for something. Sorun chose to remain quiet and patiently waited.

"Now where did I put... oh, forget it," the figure huffed before standing upright. A yellow-furred cat with black hair smiled widely at him before spreading he arms out to her side. "Welcome dear and valued customer to my humble-!"

She stopped dead when she saw that it was a human standing in front of her. All Sorun could manage was a small wave.

"... Oh, I know you!" The cat's golden eyes widened in realization. "You're that human that everybody in town has been talking about! The one that joined the Freedom Fighters!"

"Yep, that's me," Sorun confirmed with a nod. "Yo. I'm Sorun."

"Sorun. Sorun, Sorun, Sorun..." She tested the name a few times before smiling brightly and hopping over the counter and landing right in front of him. "Well, Sorun, welcome to my humble boutique! What brings you here?"

So far it seemed to be going good. A bit more energetic than he expected, but otherwise Honey just seemed like a normal person. It was enough to give the human a bit more confidence in what he was doing, and the smallest of smiles began to form as he explained himself. "Well, I only have a single set of clothes on me, and Sally, er, the princess said that you were a tailor that could-"

"Tailor...?"

The teen stopped right there when she hissed that word out. It was a word uttered with such contempt that Sorun was nearly floored by the hostility in her voice, and her face changed to match her tone.

"So that's what I am now, huh? Just a humble little tailor?" The yellow cat in a red dress turned around and gripped the counter behind her. "I've really gone so low as to be called a tailor, huh?"

The air around Sorun began to grow heavy, and he reached a nervous hand out at Honey. "Uh-"

But then her grip on the counter increased so much that the wood splintered, and in the same instance she turned back around to face him with fiery eyes and a snarling face.

"I'm a fashionista, you hear me!? A bona fide fashionista!" she screeched at him, causing Sorun to take several steps back in fear. "People from all around the whole continent used to come to me for my high-quality product! But then that vile, evil, reprehensible, horrid, no-good Dr. Eggman had to go and ruin everything and burn down all those poor people's homes and ruin my business!"

"She's nuts! This lady's nuts!"

"You understand, right!?" She zoomed right in front of Sorun, hands clasped together with comically sized tears pouring down her face. "To be torn away from the only world you ever knew? To have the life you made with sweat and tears be ruined and to be reduced to nothing more than a glorified tailor? You understand me, don't you, Sorun?"

"... A little bit?" He honestly just wanted to leave, but he was too afraid of what she would do if he tried. "Dude, I-I just wanted some extra clothes."

Honey's whole body perked right up, and her face snapped right back into the happy visage it had been prior. There wasn't even any evidence that she had been crying, which left Sorun absolutely stupefied. "Some clothes, huh?" She started to scratch at her chin, and a devious smirk began to grow on her face as her tail slowly swished behind her. "... Yeah. Yeah, that can work." She stepped closer to Sorun, much to his silent protest. "You're a Freedom Fighter, Sorun. You're out there fighting for the planet and representing the people, right?"

"I, uh, haven't done anything like that yet technically, but I, um, plan to?" he answered in an unsure voice. "Where're you goin' with this?"

"'Honey' was a well-known name in the fashion industry before my business was burned to the ground, Sorun. But now with the war and everybody being so anxious over Eggman every single day nobody could ever possibly care about branding. But you!" Her tragic tone turned near-manic in its excitement as she pointed to Sorun. "You're out there fighting and making a name for yourself."

"I'm really not-"

"Details!" She waved his denials right off. "What matters is that you're a Freedom Fighter. More than that, you're a human Freedom Fighter. That's never existed before, which means in time people will be talking. Paying attention. Freedom Fighters like Sonic are already known heroes around the world for what they do in the fight against Eggman, but you? You're unique. A bit bland, maybe. Not very strong-looking if I'm being brutally honest. But unique."

A spike of irritation shot through Sorun. "Hey-"

"No other Freedom Fighters wear my brand. You'd be the first," she interrupted, and then affixed him with a serious look. "So here's what I'm offering: not only do you wear my clothes, but you wear nothing but any clothes I make for you."

Understanding soon began to dawn on the black-haired teen. "You want me to advertise for you?" he asked in a flat tone. "Really?"

"Really," she echoed with a nod. "I mean, are you kidding? A Freedom Fighter going around the world, fighting in front of the people's eyes? You couldn't pay for better advertising. And the fact that you're a human? Even better. It gives me a chance to develop my technique past Mobian clothing, but more importantly it gets other humans to take notice. Could you imagine how lucrative it would be for me if I got into the human side of the fashion industry? They're usually so closed off to Mobians, but at the very least if I could gain a foothold in Station Square my reputation would soar."

At this point Sorun was completely lost. "Isn't the world being dominated by Eggman, though?" he weakly asked. "I really don't think anybody is gonna care... t-the whole world is under siege, you crazy cat lady."

She didn't even looked fazed by the insult. "You're all fighting for the world's freedom, aren't you? The current status quo isn't permanent." She waved her hand from side-to-side. "Admittedly this is all long-term talk, for sure, but when it pays off, and it will pay off, it'll be more than worth it." She pointed at Sorun with a smirk. "And it's not like you wouldn't get anything out of this," she added. "After all, I wouldn't dream of asking all this from you for absolutely nothing! I can easily offer you an extensive discount on all my apparel, and I would even go as far as to put any orders by you on the top of my priority list!" The cat fluttered her eyes and pressed a finger against her cheek. "But let's be honest, here. The fact you're getting such quality clothing alone should be enough; the rest is just icing on the cake. So what do you say?"

Crazy, conceited cat lady aside, the offer was tempting. Becoming what he would personally consider a sellout didn't sound appealing at all, if he was being completely honest. But going back to Sally or anybody else and asking for money if he ever needed more clothes was even less appealing with that, Freedom Fighter expenses be damned. His dignity may have been beaten and battered the whole time he'd been on Mobius, but he'd at least try to save as many shreds as he could.

Above that, making a deal with Honey could have benefits in the long run. She had to be talented; the clothes scattered all around the store actually did seem high-quality to Sorun's eyes, and in such variety, too. By all accounts, she was the real deal. Certainly had the attitude to back it up. And it wasn't like he lost anything but a bit of self respect for saying yes. And cheap clothes did sound rather appealing.

"Alright, Honey. Sure. I'll take that deal." He stuck his index finger out at her. "But no modeling. I draw the line at modeling."

"Aw." She pouted at him in response, but it was quickly wiped away into a smile when Sorun's expression didn't change. "No problem. A deal it is, then!"

They shook hands on it. Sorun couldn't help but feel like he was shaking hands with a devil. The smirk she wore the whole time they were shaking didn't alleviate him of these thoughts in the slightest.


No sooner did he do the equivalent of sign his soul away than was Sorun dragged further into the boutique by Honey, and all the while Sorun could genuinely say that he feared for his life.

"First things first: We're burning those clothes," Honey said as she continued leading him. "Starting right now you wear nothing that wasn't made by me."

"Hold on, hold on!" Sorun dug his feet into the ground and pulled his hand away from the cat. "Look, I don't got a lot on me from back home but these clothes. I don't mind if you make me wear anything else, but do we really gotta burn them? And, uh... think we could, you know, keep the color scheme? Maybe?"

The red-dressed Mobian turned around and gave his clothes a scrutinizing glare. "Do what you want with them as long as you don't wear them. As for the color..." Her eyes went up to Sorun's face. "Eh... I don't normally do black and blue combinations- they blend too easy in my opinion. But it matches your hair and eyes, so we can make it work."

Sorun silently cheered on the inside. It was the small victories that really mattered.

"Now," she continued as she began dragging him again, "believe it or not there actually are a few prototype pieces I worked on that are about your size. I made them during a... we'll call it an experimental phase I had. I want your opinion on them moving forwards."

"That's... fine, I think?"

Whether it actually was fine or not he didn't know, because she didn't answer him. Instead she pulled him into what looked like a well-lit storage room full or more wooden mannequins stuffed in glass cases, each with various pieces of clothes on them. "This," Honey announced with a wave of her hand, "is where dreams come to die. Unless I change my mind and come back, in which case they come to life. But otherwise this is where I put my experimental pieces. So let's get lookin'!"


"What do you think of this piece?"

"You serious? I'm not wearing this!" The clothing piece on the mannequin he was staring at quite literally looked like three jackets sewn together into a single jacket, with a fourth one hanging off the display's shoulders. "I'm gonna get heat stroke or something if I wear that!"

"Oh, come on, it's got that stalwart hero vibe all the ladies drop dead over." When Sorun refused to uncross his arms at the sight of the display, Honey sighed out loudly. "Fine. How about this?"


It was possibly the most egregious pair of pants he had ever seen. There were so many pockets and zippers that he could scarcely even tell it was pants. There were more pockets than pants.

"You're kidding."

"Hey, just think about it for a second." Honey tapped the side of her head. "You could fit all sorts of things in those pockets for your missions with the Freedom Fighters. Eh? Eh?" She nudged his side with her elbow.

Sorun shook his head. "I never was a big item user whenever I played video games. I'm not about to start now in real life." And he wouldn't be caught dead wearing that abominable thing. "What else ya got?"


"A skirt?" He gave the black piece of clothing in front of him a questioning look. "A skirt? I ain't a girl, man."

The Mobian gave him an affronted look. "Hey, the notion that skirts are a solely female-oriented clothing item is completely wrong. Besides, we pair this with a skintight shirt or something similar to contrast between your upper and lower body? You'll be gorgeous."

Sorun shook his head. "I don't wanna be- hey, you know, that thing actually does look kinda comfortable, and the freedom of movement it'd give me-" He shook his head harder. "No!"


"I don't even know with this one, Honey."

Belts. That's all it was- pants made of belts. It had to be belts and nothing but belts, because he couldn't see the actual pants beneath them. It was nothing but belts on belts on belts.

"Yeah, I don't know what I was thinking with this one, either," Honey admitted. "Still wanna try it?"

"Not happening."


"Okay, enough. Stop." He felt like they'd been looking at clothes for hours. For all he knew it had been hours, and that fact alone scared him more than anything else. He couldn't physically go on without passing out.

"Eh?" Honey shot him an inquisitive look. "What's the matter?"

With a groan, Sorun sat down on a nearby wooden crate. "The matter is that I just wanted some normal clothes, man. That's the whole reason I came here. Clothes." He tiredly gestured to the display cases next to them. "But now you got me back here and you're trying to doll me up like a Final Fantasy character. I know you don't know what that means, but it's what you're doing. I don't want these weird, impractical clothing pieces. I get enough looks from people already."

And it was more than they looked weird. That played a large part, but it was much more than that. They frankly looked uncomfortable. Some were so bulky with added... things on them that he wouldn't know how to move in them if he tried. And other pieces were accessorized to hell and back to the point they were more accessories than clothes.

All he had wanted was spare sets of clothes. He wouldn't have taken this deal if he knew this is what it entailed.

"'Impractical' you say..." Surprisingly, none of Sorun's complaints seemed to upset Honey in any way. In fact, she looked deep in thought as she slowly stroked her chin. "Something that isn't plain, but practical," she murmured. "Something that doesn't sacrifice uniqueness for functionality. That'd... be a really special style!" She leapt to her feet and dove towards the back of the room, behind stacks of wooden boxes. "Stay right there! I have just the thing!"

He wasn't even sure he could go anywhere if he wanted to. For all he knew Honey would hunt him down and drag him back. So he responded by giving a half-hearted wave while his attention slowly drifted towards the display cases next to him. He found himself looking at the pants made of belts in particular.

"I know she said it was experimental, but geez, all that leather... might as well have made chaps or something," he thought. "... Wait, where the hell do they get leather from in this world?" His eyes widened. "No, really, where? Normal dogs and Mobini are a thing, sure, but... but what do they make the leather fro-"

"I found them!" Sorun was roused from his concerned thoughts and turned back to Honey, who was walking towards him with a pair of black pants. "Look at these! They're leagues better than that travesty you're wearing right now," she claimed as he tossed him the pants.

Catching the pants, Sorun gave the yellow cat a pointed glare. "What's wrong with my sweatpants?" he asked.

"Ugh, they're atrocious. Baggy and loose, and not in a stylish way. You look like a bum with those pants." She pointed to the new pair of pants in his hands. "But what you said finally made me realize the style you're going for. A simplistic look that offers you practical movement on the battlefield without sacrificing style. It's the perfect choice for a Freedom Fighter!" She clasped her hands together. "It's also something I've never tried before. It'll be a real challenge to meet that kind of standard, but I'm all for it!"

"Simple but stylish, huh? That's... hey, that actually sounds kinda cool," he admitted. He didn't know the first thing about style, but she the way she described it just fit with him somehow. He didn't even know how to describe it. It just felt right. And now that he thought about it, he never was one for flashy, complicated clothes. Granted he'd always been on a tight budget when buying clothes, but still.

But he had to question the pants. "Why these, though?"

"It's made from a polyester-cotton blend and fitted in a way that makes the pants secure but non-constrictive on the wearer," she explained. "They're the kind of thing that can take a lot of punishment and provide you all the mobility you could ever need without restriction, and comfortable to boot. You don't even need to worry about stains since they're black. Perfect for fighting."

Sorun turned the pants over in his hands, and then gave Honey a deadpan look. "These are just cargo pants," he claimed.

Honey's shoulders drooped. "I don't get a lot of customers asking for pants, okay? At least try them on before you say anything, Mr. Judgey McJudge."

The human teen raised his hands in a sign of surrender, and after looking around found a large crate nearby. He hopped off the one he was sitting on and stepped behind the crate and out of Honey's view, who was patiently waiting for Sorun with her hands clasped behind her back. There were various rustling sounds from behind the crate, and soon after Sorun walked out with his old pants in his hands and his new pants on.

And it killed him to admit it, but they felt good.

Honey hadn't been kidding when she said they were non-restrictive. He felt them being secured onto his body, but at the same time they felt so loose that he could easily forget he was wearing them. It was almost like they molded to his legs naturally, and they even looked great on him on top of everything. They didn't look too baggy nor too tight. They were just right.

And Honey knew he liked them, too, because she was sending him one of the smuggest grins Sorun had ever seen. All the teen could do was sigh and hang his head.

"Yeah, okay, I want them," he whispered.

"What was that?" Honey held a hand up to one of her triangular ears. "Didn't catch that."

His head snapped up with a flustered look on his face. "They're great!" he shouted.

"Hah. Told you." The cat hummed and looked down at his legs. "I'm surprised they even fit you, to be honest, but I was trying out a lot of sizes. I got some socks in the back somewhere that should fit you, too, and some black boots to go along with the pants."

"Boots?" Sorun asked while tilting his head back. "What, you're a cobbler, too?"

"Oh, Sorun. If it goes on the body, I make it." He opened his mouth to ask something else, but Honey waved the question away. "They're combat boots, but they have short shafts if you're worried about that. So about everything above the belt-"

"Hey, come on, not the shirt." Sorun defensively hugged at his own chest. "Shirt's non-negotiable."

Honey sighed out in frustration while she tapped her foot on the ground. "I'm not having my investment walk around nothing but plain t-shirts, even if they're made by me."

"Yeah, well, I'm not going outside wearing what looks like a coat you stitched a carpet onto." He nodded his head at one of the display cases. "You got my style in mind, right? You can go ham with it later, but for now I just want some blue t-shirts." Plus it would give him time to think of a weak excuse not to wear anything crazy she made, or at the very least give him time to ease into it.

Fortunately, it seemed to be enough for Honey to accept. She sighed and slowly nodded her head. "Fine, we'll go with plain t-shirts for now. But you're not getting out of wearing anything I make from here on out." She didn't even acknowledge Sorun nodding at her as she began walking towards him with a tape measure in hand. "Now come over here so I can measure you," she ordered. "You're lucky I have some things lying around that fit you now, but going forwards anything I make for you is going to be custom-fitted."

Sorun rolled his eyes. "Yes, ma'am," he grumbled out. He rose his arms to his side as the Mobian began murmuring under her breath while wrapping the tape around parts of his body. This went on for a few minutes before she paused and looked up at Sorun.

"Oh, hey, before I forget," she said, "what size underwear you have?"

A small blush made its way to his face. "Why do you gotta know that?" he mumbled out.

"What part of 'I'm making everything you wear' wasn't clear?" She gave him a serious glare. "I'll freely admit that not a lot of Mobians bother with them, but if I'm ever going into the human market I'll need the practice making them. So give 'em up."

"Oh, come on..."


The fear that he would never make it to checkout had been at the front of his mind, but after what had to be the most awkward measuring experience he'd ever had, the two were finally back at the store's front counter. Honey was behind the counter counting out the mobiums- a name for currency he still detested- out while Sorun did his best to avoid eye contact with her by examining his new clothes.

She'd been true to her word and refitted him head-to-toe in new clothes. The pants were still amazing. The new boots were equally amazing, doubly so as she happened to have something close to his size. The blue t-shirt was still a blue t-shirt. A paper bag containing his old clothes and the spares he bought from Honey laid at his feet.

Once again he was actually thankful for being so short, because otherwise he didn't think she would have had all these clothes in his size on hand already. And he had to admit- Honey was a master at what she did, even if she was loopy.

"Hey, I've been wondering something," Sorun suddenly said as he rested his hands on the counter, careful to avoid the spots Honey had destroyed with her hands. "What's with the glove thing? Almost everybody around here wears gloves."

Honey's ears stood up. "Oh, do you want some? I got a pair right here, actually." She reached under the counter and dropped a pair of large, white gloves on the counter. Sorun immediately backed up away from them.

"Oh, no way. I don't want the Mickey Mouse gloves. Uh-uh." He shook his head. "You don't have something, I dunno, slimmer? And darker?"

"Darker?" A sly grin stretched across Honey's face. "Why, Sorun... I didn't know you swung that way."

His pale face went even paler. "Huh?"

"Well, it's common knowledge that Mobians who wear dark gloves gravitate towards a certain... orientation not commonly seen among couples." With a shrug, she placed the white gloves back where she found them. "It's a surprise, but I'm not one to judge a client on who he chooses to-"

"I take it back!" Sorun quickly rose a hand to stop her before she could continue. "I'm not- look, how 'bout fingerless?" he asked. "Could you do fingerless gloves?"

Honey rose her eye ridges in surprise. "... You didn't strike me as someone who would do something like that in public, Sorun."

"What does that even-!?" He felt about ready to pass out from embarrassment, but he stopped cold when he saw Honey trying and failing to muffle stifled laughter behind her hand. "... You're screwin' with me," he accused. "You made all that up!"

"Complete lies. I would never... pft, yeah, I did," she admitted, causing Sorun breath out and collapse on the counter. "You're right, none of that is real. I just wanted to see how you would react."

Sorun let out a breathy groan on the counter. "Oh... oh, that ain't funny, dude..." He shakily picked himself up off the counter, equal parts relief and irritation in his eyes, and looked to Honey. "Seriously, though. What's up with the gloves?"

"Honestly? There isn't much to say." She gave Sorun a shrug. "Mobians don't wear much clothing on principal, but it mostly comes down to personal preference at the end of the day. The gloves are a staple in people's wardrobe mostly because everybody wears them with a few exceptions here and there."

"So it's just, what, a trend everyone follows?"

"Pretty much."

"Oh." Well that was a relatively underwhelming explanation. He'd expected something over the top, and half of him expected aliens to be involved with it somehow. But all things considered that was a surprisingly reason. Who knew something as innocent as that could exist on Mobius?

There was a small ding! as Honey finished closed the small register on the counter next to her. "Well, you're all set," she told him. "I'll get to work on the rest of your ensemble as soon as I can. You just keep being you."

"Ah-huh, sure." He bent down to pick up the bag of clothes, and made his way towards the shop's door. "Thanks."

"And Sorun?" The teen stopped right as he put his hand on the door and looked back at Honey, who was smiling at him. "It's a pleasure doing business with you."

He couldn't get out of that store fast enough.


"Oh, I just wanna sleep forever..." Sorun sighed as he plopped his body on the living room's couch. He'd walked straight to Sonic's home right after leaving the store, and he hadn't even been able to make it to Sonic's room where their beds were. He'd only made it as far as the living room before he'd finally collapsed.

"Eccentric she said. Eccentric. If that's this world's standard of eccentric than I'd hate to see what full-on crazy is," he thought as he closed his eyes. "Ugh, at least it's all over now. I just wanna go to sleep and make it to the next day-"

"Hey, Sorun!"

On the inside, he was screaming. On the outside, Sorun slowly opened his eyes so that he could see the blue hedgehog that was standing next to the couch and staring at him.

"What do you want, man...?" Sorun yawned out as he stretched his arms over his head. "It's been a long day."

Sonic looked at something across his room. "It's only two in the afternoon," he informed the human.

"What!?" His eyes snapped fully open as he followed Sonic's gaze to a wall clock. It was, indeed, just past two. "Oh, for the love of- ugh." He went slack on the couch. "What is it, Sonic?"

"Just wanted to compliment the snazzy new threads." He snapped his gloved hands and pointed his fingers at Sorun. "You get new clothes?"

"Yeah. I went to Honey." Sorun ran a tired hand over his face. "It was an experience and a half, lemme tell ya."

Sonic blinked at him. "You don't sound very happy about the new clothes."

"I am, but an insane cat woman knows my underwear size now because of it. I'm not gonna be able to sleep at night knowing that."

And now Sonic just looked confused. "And that's bad because...?"

Sorun's looked down to Sonic's bare crotch, scoffed, and turned his head away. "You don't wear underwear. You don't know the struggles." A strange scent hit his nose and caused him to look back at Sonic. "What's that smell?"

"Oh, I'll tell you what that smell is." He zipped onto the spot next to Sorun on the couch and held out his hand to the human. "I thought to myself, 'hey, I think Sorun's still a bit stressed over his situation,' and bam! It hit me. You need the greatest food ever conceived by Mobian minds."

The teen's blue eyes focused in on Sonic and the object he held in his hand. From what he could see it was a normal hot dog he was offering to him, but he couldn't place the topping that was put on it.

"... That's just a hot dog, man," Sorun said.

Sonic vehemently shook his head. "No. It's a hot dog with chili on it."

"That sounds like the most disgusting thing in the universe," Sorun thought as his eyes flicked to the hedgehog and back to the hot dog. "What ever happened to just using ketchup?"

"Ketchup ain't got nothing on chili." The chili dog was forced into Sorun's hands, with a second one being held in Sonic's other hand. He gave Sorun an encouraging look. "C'mon, Sorun. Don't knock it 'til you try it."

He most certainly didn't want to try it. The die-hard fan of ketchup inside of him absolutely refused to even partake in any condiment other than ketchup. His very spirit considered it self-betrayal, even if chili was fairly close to ketchup. He didn't even like hot dogs that much.

That look Sonic was sending stayed his hand from outright throwing it away. That wide-eyed expectant look in combination with that small smile he wore. And Sorun just didn't want to be plain rude to his host by throwing away offered food.

"This thing still looks gross," he thought. "Screw it. I'll eat it."

It was with much resignation that he took a bite.

The taste was fine enough, he supposed. Certainly better than what he had expected. The spiciness of the chili complemented the meat flavor of the actual hot dog well, but it was still a flavor that he found lacking. Passable, but not something he'd go out of his way to get. An overall six-out-of-ten for him.

"Eh. It's okay," he said with a shrug. When he looked to Sonic to gauge his reaction, he saw a wide-eyed look of surprise plastered on the Hedgehog's face. "What?"

"I... had Chuck load that chili dog with extra spicy peppers, you know, as a joke. You didn't even react to them," he said in a voice that was almost in awe. "What's your secret?"

The fact that he'd almost been pranked went completely over Sorun's head as he took another bite of the chili dog. "I dunno. I've always had a weirdly high pain tolerance. It's one of my only redeeming qualities." His chewing slowed down as he looked at the chili dog. "Hey, Sonic?"

"Mm, yeah?"

"Where, uh... where... where did the meat used to make this thing come from?" He glanced to the side at Sonic, who was busy consuming his own chili dog. "'Cause, like, animals here are people, so... is there, like, a Mobini meat industry or something? Because this is... it's kinda weird..."

Sonic gave him no answer whatsoever. On the contrary, all he did was passively stare into Sorun's eyes as his still head continued to eat his own chili dog. It was an unusually creepy gesture from the hedgehog that sent a chill through Sorun's spin.

"... What the fuck is that look supposed to mean!?" Sorun tried his best to not let his immense confusion show on his face, and decided that perhaps the subject was better off dropped entirely. "So," he said as he finished off the chili dog, "haven't seen you in a while. Where ya been?"

"Ah, you know, the usual. Eggman does a bad, I do a good, and the universe balances itself for about two seconds before he pulls something else we have to solve." He took the last bite from his own chili dog. "The others are trying to ignore it, but we're losing ground fast out there, Sorun. I don't know how much longer we can keep going like this."

An unusually somber look crossed Sonic's face, and Sorun grew uncomfortable from just sitting there next to him. Even more sobering was being reminded that things in this world weren't so peaceful despite how Knothole appeared. Fighting a war against a tyrant trying to take over the world would make things rather dower, Sorun supposed, but now that he thought on it he realized there wasn't actually much he knew about Eggman. Now seemed like the right time to ask.

"So, this Eggman guy," Sorun began. "Dr. Robotnik. Crazy robot guy. What's his actual deal? Everybody's been talking about him, but nobody ever actually explained him to me."

"Eggman, huh?" The expression Sonic wore on his face was one Sorun had rarely seen on him. His face was scrunched up in a way that suggested even thinking about the madman was unpleasant to the hedgehog, and Sorun could hear his gloves strain when he tightened his hands. "What do you want me to say? He's an evil genius who makes robots to take over the world."

"Sure, but why?"

"Because that's just how he is," Sonic answered. "There isn't any reason to what he does. He wants to take over the world just because he wants to. Because he thinks he's better than everybody else, so it gives him the right to do whatever he wants with other people's lives." He looked down to the floor. "I'll never admit he's right, but he's trying really hard to prove his point by successfully taking over the world."

Sorun blinked. "That seems... really shallow, even by evil tyrant standards."

Sonic dry chuckled. "Yeah, well, he's a real shallow guy. Always was." He looked up at Sorun. "You know that he used to be the kingdom's warlord? He's practically the only reason Mobians won the Great War against the Overlanders- that's how my dad puts it, anyways."

"That guy was actually part of the kingdom?" Sorun rose his eyes in surprise. "How'd that happen?"

"Dad said that he was running from Overlanders. He and my uncle were actually the ones that found him, and the kingdom offered him asylum. And then he went and stabbed everybody in the back after he helped win the war. Using the roboticizer to turn people into robots, enslaving people, using his own robots to try and take over the world..." Sonic sighed. "We fought him for ten years, and we finally thought it was all over when his final grand master plan blew up in his face. Literally. But then he got replaced by an even worse one."

A beat passed, and Sorun slowly sunk back into the sofa as he gave Sonic a perplexed look. "Come again?"

"Yeah, an Eggman from an alternate zone came to this one." The hedgehog waved the answer off like such a thing was normal, and Sorun could only stare at him in silent disbelief. "The way he put it, his zone was a mirror version of our zone where he actually won and took over the world after turning himself into a robot, but he got bored. So he came over here to take ours over. We've been fighting that one ever since."

"So... it's a weird alternate-universe version that's pretty much the same but worse," Sorun summarized. "And he's a robot, too?"

Sonic shrugged. "Well, he was. But while me and Tails were fighting him and his nephew- he has a nephew helping him, by the way- some aliens abducted us and turned him back into a... well, I dunno what to call that weird body of his. He turned back into a living person."

A long, drawn-out breath slowly escaped Sorun. "Sonic, how come every time I ask somebody something, half of the time the answer I get back is 'it was aliens'?"

"Eh-heh-heh. Come on, Sorun, it isn't that bad."

"No, Sonic, this has been consistent in the four days I've been here." Sorun pinched his thumb and index finger together. "Every single day here I've had at least one conversation that involved aliens. Why is it always aliens?"

He gave the human a wry smile. "No idea! We're just so popular nobody can leave us alone, I guess."

"I guess," Sorun said with a roll of his eyes. "So why'd aliens de-robot him?"

"It was these aliens called the Bem. They, uh... have this weird thing with turning people into robots and turning robots into people, but the one that visited Mobius and turned Eggman back to normal was one that wanted to help us." Sonic rubbed at the spines at the back of his head. "She went and turned all the roboticized Mobians into regular people again, and made it so that the roboticizer would never work again. That's why Eggman has to resort to building his own robots now; his little slavery trick doesn't work anymore."

Sorun nodded in understanding, but stopped halfway. "But... your dad...?"

The hedgehog's face lowered even more. "He couldn't turn back because of his wounds from the war. It'd... he'd die. Being a robot is the only thing saving him." He tapped at his knees. "That's why the roboticizer was even made, you know? To turn people into robots so they could be fixed if they got hurt really bad. It was my uncle's dream project, but Eggman twisted it into... well, you know. He ruins everything he touches."

"Oh." And now it all made sense why nobody liked this Eggman person, aside from the obvious "he's trying to rule the world" bit: he sounded like a legitimate psychopath to Sorun's ears. A megalomaniac bent on ruling the world no matter what. A sociopath that didn't care about hurting and enslaving literally every single person in the world if it meant he got to take it over. There were so many negative psychological terms he could fit from the description given to him alone that Sorun could barely sort them out from one another.

"I know comic book villains from back home that aren't as bad as this guy," Sorun thought to himself. "At least some of those guys had reasons for doing what they did. Awful reasons, sure, but still. But this guy... he's wrecking the whole planet just because he wants to? Because he can, and that's it? It's just hearsay from Sonic, but... but he's been fighting Eggman practically his whole life along with everybody else in the Freedom Fighters. If anything, he's the most reliable source of info on the guy, and if Sonic of all people is saying he's absolute evil..."

He said it before, and he would say it again: Mobians, the ones he'd talked with at least, were all unusually nice. Some were a bit more unique than others, crazy cats aside, but overall they were nice to the point of off-putting to Sorun. They were kind to a fault, really, and Sonic embodied this more than anybody else he met so far. That's why he found it so hard to believe they would all paint Robotnik as an unredeemable tyrant. That just didn't seem like something they would do.

But after hearing all of that, Sorun could understand. The robo-slavery, the conquering, the ruining of lives? And for years at that? The fact he was doing it all just because according to Sonic? It was no wonder they all hated him.

"I wasn't too far off when I called this world nightmare-bizarro," he realized. "Man. Hard to believe that a single guy could cause so much trouble. Just who is Robotnik?"

"Do you guys at least know where he is?" Sorun suddenly asked Sonic. "Does he have a base of operations or something like that? Or does he move around?"

Sonic shook his head. "No, his round butt's firmly planted in New Megaopolis. It's..." Sorun stopped himself and made a slight hum. "Hey, you still have that map Sally gave you?"

"Yeah, it's in your-" Sonic was gone and back in less than a second, holding the rolled up map in his hands. "- Room, yeah. Showoff."

Grinning, Sonic unrolled the map and pointed at an extremely familiar spot to Sorun. "This is where New Megaopolis is," he explained. "From what I heard, it was a Overlander city a long time ago, but they lost it in the war."

Sorun leaned in closer to the map. "That's... New York," he whispered under his breath. "He actually went and took over New York? I mean it's not New York anymore, but... but seriously? I can't believe the place is even still around, but now he's in charge of the city?"

Now it was just insult upon injury at this point. He really liked New York. And not only that, but it was so close to the Kingdom of Acorn with it being on the east coast. He was way closer than Sorun would have thought.

"I don't know about what it used to be, but nowadays it's robot central," Sonic said as he rolled the map back up. "Nothing but metal, metal, and wouldn't you know it, more metal there. We can't get close without his defenses pinging us, and even if we could he's got so many robots there a head-on attack would be pointless. That whole city is a fortress for him and a factory for his Badniks."

"So attacking him's no good," Sorun summed up. "So what have you guys been doing?"

Sonic sighed at the question. "Try to disrupt his supply lines. Steal what we can for ourselves. Destroy his refineries that keep poisoning the planet. Dismantle his factories. But usually we're so busy saving people from his Badniks that we can barely ever make a dent in his operations, and when we can, we do so little that it feels like we aren't making a difference. For all I know we aren't."

"Which is why you banked on what that wood tablet said."

Sonic started at what Sorun said, but then gave him a slow nod. "Yeah, that's why we did what we did," he confirmed. "You see why we were so desperate now? We need a win here, Sorun. No, more than a win- we need hope. Because at the speed we're going? Hope's runnin' out real fast, and once it goes away completely? I don't know." He shook his head. "The Freedom Fighters'll keep fighting to the end, no matter what. But everybody else? I just don't know."

He did understand. It didn't make him feel better for being here in the first place, but he at least understood. And more than that, to his surprise... he honestly felt bad for them. "Sorry you got somebody as bad as me," Sorun mumbled out while pulling a knee up to his chest. "You... deserved someone better. Someone that could have helped."

That statement earned him a shocked look from Sonic, who looked so stunned that he nearly dropped the map he held out of his hand. He shook it off quickly though, and a small smile, sad but appreciative, found its way on his face. "Hey, come on. I already said no negativity," he said. "We're putting together a big mission, you know. We're gonna need all hands on deck for this one, too, so chances are that you'll finally be pulled into the field." He stepped forwards and put a hand on Sorun's shoulder. "But really man, thanks. For helping us, even if you can't really do that much. And for talking with Tails- he told me you two are cool now. I really appreciate it."

Sorun said nothing at first, and simply just looked down at the hand. He then shrugged the hand off while getting up off the couch at the same time. "We made a bet," Sorun airily replied as he walked away. "That's all."

"Yeah, but you didn't have to honor it."

The human teen didn't so much as look back at Sonic, but he could feel the smile being beamed into his back from the hedgehog. And as it was, he was too tired to care, much less respond. He just wanted to sleep, to the point that he'd passed out the moment he crashed on Sonic's spare bed.


A/N- For his neutral special, Sorun does NOT wield a gun. He'd really like one, though.

So I'm taking a few liberties on this story and adding characters that didn't exist in the OG pre-plot wrecker wave universe. I still think it was the most egregious story choice in anything I've ever read, but I'll freely admit that the reset universe at the very least had some cool stuff in it. And I can use that.