Recursion Error Chapter 94, a sonic the hedgehog fanfic

Recursion Error

Episode 94- Vacation's over

It was a beeping sound that woke him up.

Not an overly loud sound; a serious of soft, repetitive beeps emanating from somewhere near him that were just loud enough to rouse Sorun from sleep. He opened his eyes - his eyes burned when sunlight bleeding in from the window his them. He held in the groan he wanted to make and sat up silently in the bed. And then he looked to his left.

Yep, there it was. The source of the noise. Nicole was sitting against the headboard to the bed right next to him. Typing away on a bunch of holographic keyboards floating in front of her. Her fingers continued to unceasingly type away at the keyboards as her right eye quickly glanced in Sorun's direction.

"I'm sorry if I woke you," she said in a simple tone as her eye turned back to the keyboards and screens. Sorun could only blink in response.

"I... you... but wh..." Not being able to find the words, Sorun shook his head. "You didn't, don't worry about it."

Slowly, he settling back into the bed, laying his head on the pillow and pulling the covers up over him. Nicole continued typing away, barely even acknowledging his actions as Sorun tried to go back to sleep.

It wasn't working. His mind was stuck on what he just saw so he sat back up and let the blanket fall away from the top half of his body.

"Okay, but do you really have to do this here? Now? Of all times?" he asked.

She didn't even look back his way when she responded. "I'm the administrator and steward of the entire city, Sorun. I have responsibilities. And I don't like to spend an inordinate amount of time sleeping like you do."

"But you have wi-fi," Sorun complained. "Administrate some other time." He shuffled closer to her, wrapping his arms over her bare midsection to draw her in closer. The screens had followed Nicole when she was pulled away, and she smiled a bit and took her attention off the screens for just a second to pry Sorun off of her.

"Sorun. My responsibilities," she protested, laughing lightly. It was a struggle - one of his greatest - to let go of her. He managed, barely.

"Fine, alright." She'd already gone back to her screens. He pouted a bit, looking out at the window and resisting the urge to instinctively hiss at the sunlight shining through, and then turned back to her. "What time is it?" he asked.

"Eight A.M."

This time he did hiss, and then began the process of settling back into the bed. "Ugh, just wake me back up around two."

"You have work."

Sorun paused mid-process, and then groaned in realization and sat back up against the headboard. "Ugh, yeah, you're right. And you just reminded me I got that stupid thing I gotta go do."

Still typing away with her eyes firmly locked on the screens floating in front of her, Nicole queried with, "'Thing?'"

"Yeah, so, ugh..." Tiredly, Sorun ran a hand over his face. He didn't know if the exhaustion came from just waking up or the knowledge of what he had to go do. "So Honey got into talks with some, uh, some guy. Fabric tycoon dude in Station Square."

"Oh?" She sounded a bit interested, but mostly was just focusing on whatever she was working at. Sorun had snuck a curious glance but then looked back away when all he saw were walls of text and code on those screens.

"Yeah his name is Reuben or something, don't remember, anyway he kinda just reached out to Honey outta the blue for business reasons and they worked out some kind of deal over the phone. So now I gotta be the guy to go all the way to Station Square to meet up with him and sign off on a bunch of stuff, and then I gotta bring back a bunch of boxes of fabric from what I assume is a warehouse or whatever in Station Square back to Honey's shop."

"Seems reasonable."

"Mhm, except for the fact I gotta stay in Station Square for a day or two."

The typing ceased. Evidently that last statement had warranted enough of Nicole's attention that she finally tore her face completely away from the screens to look directly at Sorun. "Pardon?" she asked, looking surprised.

"Right, so..." Sighing, Sorun offered her a hapless shrug. "I just got told all this yesterday and I'm really short on the details, and I'm gonna ask her why I have to do this when I go to her shop later, but for whatever reason Honey needs me to stay a whole day, maybe two, in Station Square. So I'm gonna be gone for a bit," Sorun explained. "It's just business stuff. Not clear on why I have to stay there when I can teleport with the sword, but again, I'll ask her later."

"You'll be gone for some time, then." There was a note of disappointment in Nicole's tone.

"'S just for a day, two max." Sorun took on a bit of an amused face at the disappointed look Nicole was wearing. "It's not that long, Nicole, don't tell me you're that upset over it."

The look turned into a pout, at which point Nicole promptly turned back to the screens. "Just because we've been together for a month doesn't mean I'm suddenly incapable without you somewhere in the city," she said.

"Ah, I see." Sorun nodded his head with a serious face, timing hums with every head bob in a sign of clear understanding. "You won't miss me, I got it, I completely understand-"

"Of course I'm going to miss you," Nicole interrupted, looking at Sorun from the sides of her eyes. When she said it like that she almost sounded insulted. Her expression softened and she glanced to the side, away from him. "You can't come back to sleep here instead of spending the night there?"

"I cannot." For reasons Honey better explain to him before he started using the "raise" word again. She started to get into the habit of hissing and swatting at him like some kind of vampire whenever it sounded like he was about to say that word.

"Then I suppose it can't be helped." She only looked a little disheartened at the news, which Sorun supposed was a good sign of something. The disappointment was more clear in her voice, though. "In that case you had better begin your preparations, then. I'll tell Silver where you went if he asks and feed the Chao in your absence."

He gave her a grateful smile. "Thanks." He looked down - his hand was sitting there, all innocuous-looking. He began to slide it over the surface of the bed towards Nicole. "You know, I got about an hour before I need to head out so we could totally just stay here and-"

Before he could even finish Nicole gently grabbed his wrist and placed it back on his side. "You need breakfast and I'm in the middle of something important," she told him as way of explanation. Now Sorun was the one pouting again as he turned away, arms crossed and thinking to himself he wouldn't forgive this. "... But we can certainly revisit this conversation after you've returned from your business trip."

Maybe he could forgive her. It was Nicole, after all. They were in a relationship. He was pretty sure he was supposed to do things like forgive.

"If it makes you feel better I'm not letting you leave this house without a goodbye kiss, Sorun."

Ah, there it was. The forgiveness he'd sought out for so long.

"Remind me again why I have to spend a couple of days in Station Square."

It's not that Sorun was, strictly-speaking, annoyed at the prospect of having to spend an abnormal length of time in the city. There were certainly worse places and the locale gave him a small inkling of his previous home, if not full nostalgia. And the food was good enough.

Or it would be good enough if he wasn't being consigned to the fate of being stuck in a hotel room during the entire duration.

He stood there with his back leaning against the counter, glancing to the side at Honey as she was filling out a bunch of forms behind said counter. Larry was on the other side of the shop unpacking some boxes - Sorun lamented that he'd finally run out of names that sounded like Larry to tease the lynx with and had begrudgingly started using his real name recently. Probably for the best when Sorun thought about it. The joke had begun to grow stale and he needed to keep his coworker on his toes for no reason.

But he couldn't care less about Larry at the moment. His focus was on Honey, who hadn't even looked up from the forms.

"Sorun, you know how these eccentric business-type guys are like." He couldn't be sure, but Sorun was almost sure he'd convulsed when he heard that word. Oh, did he know. He knew just what "eccentric business-types" were capable of. He worked for one of those damn things. "If this Reuben person's anything like me their schedule must be so hectic they can't get anything straight! It makes sense he needs you to be there to take his call the first moment he's available. And since we don't know when that is you're planting your butt in that hotel room 'til he calls the room phone. It makes perfect sense."

No it didn't. It didn't make sense at all but he couldn't argue it because Honey wrote his paycheck. Sorun didn't see at all how anybody could be so busy that he had to bend over ass-backwards just to accommodate their schedule but Honey was the boss here. "But I can teleport," Sorun continued to complain, "can literally make a portal from there to here and back, he can't just call you and-"

"He's planning to call a specific phone in a specific room in a specific hotel, Sorun," Honey interrupted. "If he does that and you're there to answer the phone the conversation goes as quickly as possible. If he has to call here and I have to waste time tracking you down, it's more time out of his schedule, and at that point we're gonna lose a potential supplier of high quality materials and it'll be your fault. It makes total sense, I don't get what you're not seeing here."

Was this one of those things he just wasn't able to comprehend because Sorun didn't have the mind of an entrepreneur? One of those business acumen things he needed an actual education or experience in the field to get? Because he didn't get this. It sounded like pure nonsense, really, but Honey over here was acting like it was the most sensible thing on the planet and it confused him. "But you're the business owner," he argued. "It's your business, your deal, why do I-"

"Because you're the person delivering the fabrics here so I can inspect them and make a final decision on a purchase," Honey succinctly put at the same time she flung her arm out to the side in a wild flourish of finishing off a signature she was writing down. "Besides, I don't know when he's calling. I can't afford to wait by the phone for a whole day or two."

"Oh, like that thing you're asking me to do?" Sorun snidely remarked.

The yellow cat looked up from the papers she was signing to give Sorun a critical look. "Are you actually gonna lean there and tell me you're complaining about me paying you to wait around in a comfy hotel room?" Honey asked him. He had to look down in silent admittance that, yeah, it was sounding like a pretty stupid argument the more Sorun thought on it. "I'm even fronting the cost of the room and room service for you here, I don't get it, what's the problem?"

Unfortunately, his masculine pride refused him the privilege of telling Honey that Sorun just didn't like being away from his girlfriend for extended periods of time. And beyond that the more he thought about it the more he realized he really shouldn't be arguing this. Easy money was easy money. Regardless of how... weird this all was.

"It's just a bit unusual," Sorun said in a half-truth as he looked back at Honey. "There's no problem here, I'll do it."

The annoyance that had been on Honey's face evaporated in an instant and was replaced by a beaming smile. "Great!" she exclaimed in happiness, mouth open in a wide smile and eyes closed. She leaned forwards to poke a noticeably slate-faced Sorun in the cheek as she opened her golden eyes to look at him. "But really, Sorun, I super appreciate you doing this." She continued poking him in the cheek. "I get this is totally a whole lot of responsibility you're in no way qualified to handle-"

"How am I even supposed to respond to that?"

"-so I need you to realize I'm putting a huge amount of trust on you," Honey continued. "You, my most experienced and capable employee. There is absolutely nobody else I could hope to trust with this. Make me proud."

The poking wouldn't cease. Sorun tried his best to ignore it. "What about Larry?" he asked.

Honey scowled. "Oh, yeah, that reminds me." She thankfully stopped poking Sorun and turned to the side a bit to face Larry's way. "Hey, Larry!" she shouted at the lynx. "I told you I needed all that unpacked twenty minutes ago! So help me if I look back in five minutes and you're still at it...!"

The threat needn't have been said. The implications, whatever they were as Sorun had never incurred such wrath from the cat, was evidently clear to Larry. The lynx Mobian had made a frightful kind of squeal and tripled, no, quadrupled his movement speed in that moment.

Honestly, Sorun was just impressed he'd survived working for Honey this far.

"Now then!" And like that Honey turned back to Sorun, all smiles. "I'd say the fate of the business rests in your hands, but the situation isn't nearly dramatic enough for that."

"It ain't?"

"I mean, I'd certainly like to have silk fabrics imported from Station Square for me to work with," Honey said. "You know how hard it is to get actual silk all the way out here?"

"Pathetically easy 'cause I can go anywhere in the world in an instant for you?"

"Yeah, and do you have any idea how few people actually sell silk? More than that they have manufacturing processes for silk over there nobody else in the world have. I neeeeed it...!" She really didn't need to look so creepy in that moment. Rubbing her hands together like a damn movie villain in that instant, only to transition to looking all gleamy and innocent in the next instant, standing up straight with her finger pointing up in the air. "And so! The moderate success of the business rests in your hands, Sorun."

It was certainly a way to lay out the situation. Sorun rolled with it. "I'll try not to let you down, ma'am." And he meant it. Truly. Because the consequences for doing so wasn't a world Sorun wanted to imagine, and thus he pushed himself off the counter and walked away as quickly as he could.

He passed by Larry on the way out, still unpacking things out of boxes. A passing whim made Sorun give him a halfhearted wave and mutter out, "Hey, Larry."

"Huh? Oh, hey!" Larry momentarily stopped what he was doing and straightened up to fully address Sorun. "How's it going, you need something?"

Already Sorun was feeling like this had been a mistake. He'd been dragged into a conversation without anything to discuss. "Nah, man, I, I was just, you know, saying hi. That's it."

Larry wilted a little bit. "Oh. Uh, I just thought, like the way you said that-"

"Yeah I know-"

"It's just, it came out really sounding like you had something to-"

"Just saying hi."

"Like I really thought-"

"I know what you thought."

"Oh."

"Yeah." The next ten seconds were some of the most awkward this week, Sorun had felt. He scratched the back of his head for lack of anything better to do. "I gotta go."

"Okay." Somehow, and Sorun didn't know where in the world the lynx found the fortitude to do this, Larry managed to give Sorun a smile. "Have fun on your trip!"

Usually the socially correct action at this stage of the conversation would be to reflect the other party's niceties in order to further reinforce a positive repertoire. Considering he was a coworker of Sorun's this proved to be doubly true. But for reasons that were unexplainable to Sorun's psyche, likely stemming from the fact that this was Larry, Sorun truly just stood there, silently deliberating with himself if he should say something back.

For the first five seconds Larry waited patiently. Ten, fifteen seconds had passed, and an odd look at came across Larry's face from Sorun silently staring at him in indecision. Twenty seconds in he looked to grow worried. At thirty seconds his eyes began darting around in random directions, as if he were seeking help.

At the thirty-five second mark Sorun made a decision. He turned around and proceeded to leave, with Larry staring at Sorun's back with wide, bewildered eyes as he exited through the shop's front door.

"..." Giving off a short sigh as the door swung closed behind Sorun, he looked down at the sword resting in his hands. He shook his head as the blade was pulled out of the sheath. "Not a good moment, not a good moment," came the mental belittlement. The following portal that Sorun cut was made quicker than normal.

"Sorun, hey!"

He'd only gotten one foot through the portal before he heard the voice, froze, and then made the mental equivalence of a grimace when he recognized the voice, all the while keeping a neutral expression. He let as much as an unpleased hum sound in his throat as he turned around. Sure enough, Sonic was there.

He must have been more distracted with this trip than he thought; Sorun hadn't even heard him approach.

"What do you want, Sonic?" Sorun asked. "I got a job I need to do. Because I need to pay taxes. Unlike some people."

Of all the remarks Sorun had expected, a light chuckle out of Sonic hadn't been one of them. "Ha ha, great one, Sorun." He even did a little point and winked at Sorun, which put him off even more to the point he was considering just turning around to leave mid-conversation. "Anyway, I just came to ask one quick favor. You're going off to Station Square, right?"

"... Hm?" Sorun quirked an eyebrow. "How did you hear about that?"

"Ah, just heard it around."

"..." Now Sorun's head was tilted to the side. "Even though the only people that knew of this was Honey and myself? I only told Nicole just this morning. A bit over an hour ago." Larry knew, too, but he wasn't even sure that was because Honey told him. From Sorun's perspective it looked like he'd just been listening in on the conversation between himself and Honey and pieced it together himself.

Sonic didn't respond. Literally. As in, it was almost like he was standing there with a frozen expression, just staring at complete silence. When Sorun started to feel unnerved from the sight, the hedgehog became animated again and began speaking. "Yeah, Nicole told Sally and she told me, you know how it is."

"Okay, whatever." It was a logical enough of an explanation and Sorun didn't feel like dwelling on it further. He was more focused on just hearing what this "favor" was so he could leave already. "What do you want?"

"Right, yeah. So there's this one pizza joint over in Station Square, so I was just wondering if on the way back-"

"You seriously want me to make a pizza delivery for you?" Sorun grumbled out. He couldn't help but feel more annoyed in the fact it was Sonic asking him this. Somebody who could run all the way there and do that himself in a matter of seconds. If it was anybody else asking he'd made it a hard maybe but with Sonic he just didn't feel like-

"Well it's not just for me, it's for all the Freedom Fighters," Sonic explained. "Everyone's been working really hard on everything and I just thought, y'know, since you're gonna be over there and everything already you could just bring something back to the ol' HQ on the way back. They have a special way of making it over there and you can't really get it anywhere else." He grinned. "It's just a little surprise for them all! All I'm asking for, swear it."

It had a practical reason behind it and Sorun hated that because it was hard to argue against pragmatism; that was his thing and he didn't like poking faults in his own style of reasoning. And if it was for everyone and not just Sonic, that was... that was different. Enough to make Sorun much more amenable to the idea.

Nope, it was more than that. He was already standing all slack-like, eyes pointed up to the sky in resignation at a choice already being made. The least they all deserved for their work was a pizza, after all. "Fine. But you're spotting me for it later."

"Hey, alright! Thanks bud-"

"I don't know when I'm coming back so when I go to the HQ and no one's there I'm leaving it in the fridge." Sorun's back was already turned to Sonic, his feet carrying him through the portal. "I'll be upset if you don't pay me back for the pizza."

And with those warm parting words, the portal closed behind Sorun, leaving Sonic standing alone in front of the shop. A stiff breeze had passed by, rustling the nearby grass and making it bend in the direction of the wind. What hadn't been disturbed by the breeze, unlike the grass, was Sonic himself, who was standing rooted to the spot and completely motionless, smile completely frozen on his face. Not even a single hair of fur on his body had moved in response to the wind brushing against it.

And then, he'd shattered. Like an ice sculpture being struck by a large hammer the hedgehog's entire body broke apart into innumerable red, glowing cubes of energy, scattered along the ground. And like water evaporating off the sidewalk on a hot day the innumerable cubes that had made up Sonic's body disappeared, leaving no evidence of their presence to be seen. Another breeze passed by the empty spot in the street in front of the shop.

On top of that shop a pair of legs were swinging carefree off the side of the roof. A hooded person dressed completely in red sat there, a few more of the glowing red cubes floating around his body as he stared at the spot where Sorun had been standing previously before disappearing through his portal.

"Illusions are fun," Rubrum said to himself. He held up his right in, in which was a piece of paper, and released a sigh of lament at the sight. "The things I do just to get a single guy in the wrong place at the wrong time..."

Back on Earth Sorun never participated in hotels. He did participate in them out of necessity during the road trip with Silver, and all things considered he'd handled the experience well enough. He hadn't thought at the time he'd have an easy time sleeping in a bed that wasn't his, not to mention the stress that had been the current situation at the time, but after all the bullshit that'd happened prior he'd found himself sleeping rather soundly those times. In Silver's case it had been more a matter of sleeping in a bed that wasn't two hundred years old and ruined for the first time in his life, and he'd jumped up and down on it for an hour before going to sleep.

Even though he'd never been in a modern Earth hotel, though, he at least knew what they looked like, and the hotel room in Station Square was about the most standard-looking room he could have imagined. Maybe a bit nicer, even. Nicer than his own bedroom back home at any rate, but the lack of Nicole certainly brought it down a fair bit.

Tossing the blue Emerald aside on the floor - thank goodness he'd remembered to turn it back before coming in, because for as much as someone carrying around a glowing gem would raise some eyes he was almost positive someone carrying around a katana would raise a few more - Sorun flopped down on the bed. It really was a nice room: good wallpaper, decent air conditioning, the cleaning services must take their job really seriously because the smell wasn't bad. The thought crossed Sorun's mind that he ought to thank Honey for calling ahead and booking the room for him, and even going as far as to pay for it. Even the room service, too, Sorun had considered as he looked over at the hardline phone sitting on a nightstand next to the bed. He should, but then he considered how big her ego was already from all her success and how smug she'd act if he did such a thing. She already lorded the fact he got all his clothes from her over her.

The woman was his only supplier of pants. And was one of two women in the world that knew his underwear size. That was already too much power.

Then again she did deserve it. Setting up the hotel in advance, giving him a good job (another thing she liked to hold over him), the fact the clothes were good. She certainly had the praise coming, and part of Sorun thought that he'd feel bad if he didn't at least say something. But what if he doled too much praise out? She'd get uppity about it just to annoy him and he'd end up regretting the whole affair to begin with.

"Ugh, whatever, I got this whole trip to mull it over," Sorun thought to himself as he sat up on the bed. There, sitting at the end of the room, was the one sole reason Sorun had immediately chilled out about this whole trip from the moment he'd entered this room. Possibly the third most beautiful piece of technology Sorun had seen in his entire life, right next to Nicole, and the wireless game controller Nicole had made for him.

A plasma screen TV.

"In the ten months since I first came to this planet... I don't think I've ever once sat down to just watch some TV," Sorun thought to himself with widened, astonished eyes.

New Mobotropolis, the Republic of Acorn as a whole, really, didn't have TV as Sorun knew it. The technology was there; the industry wasn't, so the most monitors were used for was long-distance communication, computation, and playing existing pieces of media. A hundred percent none of the other Mobian settlements on the planet had it. The Overlanders might, but Sorun didn't like going to those territories.

So here it was. The last bastion on the entire planet where the concept of commercialized TV existed. Right here in Station Square where the last vestiges of actual humanity survived. When he fumbled around for the nearby remote he couldn't help but hold it up in what was nothing but pure reverence.

He'd cry if he didn't have standards. So instead he just flopped back on the bed and flicked on the TV. He was shooting for cartoons here, but at this point he'd take the news if it meant he finally got to watch something on TV to recapture those memories of happier times. He would still hold out for hope that there was actually something entertaining on that wasn't the news.

There weren't any cartoons, unfortunately. What there was, however, was what looked like a live-action rip-off of "Kamen Rider", so he'd take that. And he savored it for all it was worth.

50 hours later

"And it's finally time," he thought to himself. The lights were off and the blinds were closed on all the windows, letting only a few rays of sunlight in to brighten the room. It was times like these that made him realize how close and yet how far and end to all this was, but this... this was one of those big steps. One of the milestones that marked actual progress towards him being done with all this, and the sooner that was done the better.

But the day he could finally stop wasn't here yet. Because Rubrum had a phone call to make.

There was an ugly scraping sound as the stool he was sitting in was dragged across the room's floor to the nearby nightstand where the phone was resting. In his right hand: nothing, hand open and fingers poised to grab the phone. In his left hand: a fake mustache he'd bought from a nearby novelty shop with money he'd stolen from a random passerby. With a swift motion his left hand reached towards his head and breached the darkness of the shadow obscuring his face from the hood he wore to affix the mustache to his unseen upper lip.

It was done. With that piece in place he could get into proper character.

"The glue on this thing kinda smells off," Rubrum thought as an offhand remark he picked up the phone with his right hand. With the receiver held to the side of his head he reached forwards with his left to dial in the numbers to make the call.

He stopped dead in his tracks when he realized something.

The phone was a rotary phone.

"... Oh my fucking god I don't know how to use this," he realized. He went slack; enough that the receiver fell from his hand to end up being dangled by the cord connecting it to the phone. "What the f- there's no buttons, it's just a wheel! Why!? It's the fucking future, why is this still a thing!?"

Of course he knew what a rotary phone was, but like everyone else in his generation he'd never bothered to learn how it works because such things were seen as ancient in his time. And here he was, sitting there slack-jawed like and idiot unable to cross the next item off his list because he didn't know how to use an antiquated piece of technology.

"Dammit dammit dammit if I screw this up because I don't know how to use a fucking rotary phone..." He got up from the stool, fake mustache and its strange-smelling adhesive all but forgotten. For the first time in what felt like years anxiety, a new type of anxiety to join the heavy sense of loathing he felt everyday, began to assault Rubrum as he nervously paced around the room. The rotary phone continued to sit there, receiver swinging on the cord like it was waving at him. Mocking him.

Goddammit it was the bike all over again. He had to do this because it was on the list and he had to do everything on the list because to not do everything on the list wasn't an option because he had to do everything on it but he couldn't because he didn't know how the phone worked and-

Rubrum stopped and took a calming breath. The red energy angrily crackling along his body and causing the surrounding walls and flooring to warp from his sheer presence receded back into his body, and the room stopped being damaged. He shot a panicked glance over to the rotary phone. It seemed fine.

"Alright, cool it, man, you don't wanna go accidentally vaporizing the whole building 'cause you had a panic attack, we're past those." The reassurances did very little because he was still pacing. He'd actually started pacing faster, actually. As if in a panic. "Okay okay, uh, okay I can just ask someone how this works, can't I? No, there's no time and I'm not supposed to technically be here so it'll look real suspicious to the staff- I can just illusion up some random guy and I'm not that strapped for time. Maybe. Lemme look at this thing."

He approached the object of his grievances with trepidatious steps. For how old it was it looked well-maintained, which made Rubrum think, much to his chagrin, that maybe the phone was an aesthetic choice to go with the place. Which didn't help at all with the fact he needed to figure out how this thing worked, so he cut out this line of thinking and leaned closer to it.

"Okay, I'm a marginally smart guy, I can probably figure this out," he muttered to himself. "Worse comes to worse I can just illusion a guy and have him talk to him. Not exactly the plan, but whatever, same result so it doesn't matter. But how does this work...?"

Phones had buttons. You pressed the buttons to form a certain string of numbers to call a certain phone. Basics of how a phone worked. He did have the number and knew exactly what to call. The problem... was that rotary phones didn't have buttons. The numbers were arranged in a circle on the phone's face and there was a plastic wheel over the numbers, with a large hole punched in over each number. Zero through nine, a pound key and a star key. Twelve holes in total in the wheel.

Now how the hell did it work?

"Okay, I know from movies you're supposed to put your finger in a hole and kinda rotate it to the right," he continued to mutter. "How do I know what hole to use, though? And how far do I rotate it? Oh, man..."

If the stakes weren't so high perhaps he'd be laughing at he absurdity of the situation. Unfortunately he did know what the stakes were, and that knowledge was causing Rubrum to visibly sweat at the moment. He worried for the state of the fake mustache as a result.

"Maybe all the holes are just there to show you where the numbers are?" he guessed. "Like... like maybe you put your finger in the number hole... what's it called, pound key? Maybe you put your finger in there each time 'cause it's a number symbol and you rotate it to the right a certain number of tics. Then you pull out, let it reset, and go again."

Yeah. Yeah, that made sense. You're dialing a number, of course you have to use the number hole. It made complete logical sense.

Steadily with a finger that definitely wasn't shaking, Rubrum inserted his index finger in the hole over the pound symbol on the phone. He rotated the ring a little bit - he heard it. A single click. He rotated it more. More clicks ensued.

He kept doing this until he heard the desired number of clicks he assumed corresponded with the number he was attempting to insert, and then removed his finger. The wheel rotated back to the left until it was back in its original position. He repeated this action, rotating the wheel from the hole over the pound symbol until he got the right amount of clicks, and then reset. This was done until he'd finally dialed out the whole phone number. And then, with bated breath, he picked the receiver back up and held it back to his head.

...

It wasn't dialing a number. There was just a single, continuous droning noise on the other end.

"I hate everything," Rubrum growled out. He had to fight not to slam the receiver back down on the phone, lest he accidentally destroy it. And fight to not accidentally crush said receiver in his hand. He took a calming breath and endeavored to try and re-analyze the situation. "Alright, what if... what if you're supposed to put your finger in the hole over what button you want to dial... and then rotate it all the way 'til it won't rotate anymore? Then you let it go back to the neutral position and do the same for the rest of the numbers?"

It sounded crazy, insane, even, but at this point he'd try anything if it got the damn phone to work. So he did so; rotating the ring over and over again until, once again, he... assumed, at least... that the number had been dialed. Once again he found himself holding his breath as he held the receiver back up to his head.

...

It was dialing the number.

"I'm a goddamn genius."

For two days he been sitting here. Eating room service. Watching "Not Kamen Rider". So far it was nothing but proof that Sorun had the best job in the whole universe, and on a whole, he was okay with that.

Seriously, this might as well have been a vacation compared to an actual job. Sure, he couldn't walk around and do stuff, but... TV. After he'd been on a ten-month dry spell. He could probably sit in that bed for a whole week if he really wanted to doing nothing but watch TV at this point.

"Seriously though," Sorun began to wonder to himself as his head swiveled over to the phone on the nearby nightstand, "not that I'm complaining, but I'm really starting to wonder what's taking this guy so long to-"

The phone started to ring.

"Oh, that's my cue!" Springing into action with all the grace of a slug Sorun rolled off the bed to grab the remote that fell somewhere on the floor, finding it after a few moments and hitting mute on the TV. He stood back up and made his way to the phone, sitting down on the bed while picking the receiver up. "Uh, hi, Sorun speaking. Is this, uh..." He took his attention away from the phone to examine the name that'd been scribbled on the palm of his hand with a marker. It was smudged. Damn. "Er... Reuben Umali Brum? The fabric guy?" Sorun squinted at his palm. "Am I reading that right?"

"MMMM YES hello~!" Sorun recoiled from the receiver, nearly dropping it, even. He hadn't expected the voice on the other end to be so... overtly flamboyant. "Yooouuu must be that delivery boy Honey had mentioned to me!"

"... Just get through the phone call, man." Repressing the deep sigh that desperately wanted to leave him, Sorun pinched the bridge of his nose and said, "Yeah, that's me, so she said she was interested in the partnership and wanted me to bring back-"

"Yes, about that...~" There was a sound like somebody clearing their throat from the other end of the line. "I'm afraid I've changed my mind on the matter and will not be engaging in that partnership."

He knew he had to be professional. Sorun knew that. He was on a job and people with jobs did professional things because jobs were professions. And yet even knowing that Sorun couldn't help the frustration that began to bleed into his tone when he responded with, "What?"

"I know, I know, it's such a shame! Honey is such a beautiful artist with her work and I remember falling in love the moment I laid eyes on it, ah, but alas...~" Sorun could almost picture the person on the other end swooning over their own words, and all it did was add to the vitriol collecting in him. "Another fashion firm had contacted me recently and made me an offer I just couldn't find myself the heart to refuse, so I'm afraid I'll be going over to them instead."

The plastic casing of the receiver cracked under Sorun's grip. "Are you serious, man, I've been waiting here for you for two days only for you to call and tell me this?" In truth he was less upset about that since it may as well have been a vacation waiting here, but more upset that Honey was apparently being shafted because this guy took a better deal with someone. Which... oddly rankled Sorun more than he'd like to admit. But he was too mad with the voice on the phone to even think of that at the moment.

"I know this may be upsetting to hear, darling, but that's the business, you know. Please be sure to pass along my sincerest apologies to your employer for the trouble."

"You-"

Sorun wasn't able to finish. The call cut off right there as the person on the other end disconnected, leaving a continuous tone to ring out through the receiver.

"And people said I couldn't act," Rubrum snickered out after setting the receiver back on the phone. He made a light chuckle and reached up to pat the fake mustache affixed to his upper lip in silent praise for providing the atmosphere needed to pull off such a flawless lie. Truly, he'd have been lost without it.

But, the time for this particular lie was over, and he was no longer in need of the fake mustache. So with zero fanfare whatsoever he tore it right off his face.

In hindsight, somewhat of a mistake. One Rubrum realized when there was an audible tearing sound when the mustache was removed.

"The hell!?" Rubrum hissed out in pain, rubbing at his lip as he stared down at the mustache in his hand. Flipping it over revealed there wasn't any blood stuck to its back. Somehow. "What'd they back this thing with, fuckin' epoxy?" he grumbled out as he threw the 'stache over his shoulder. Then he looked over at the plastic sleeve resting on the nightstand the mustache had come in, only to reel back in shock when he saw the warning label on the side that might as well have been microscopic. "They super did-!"

Rubrum's mouth snapped right shut when he heard the doorknob to the room's door begin to turn. Silently and robotically his whole body turned towards the door as it opened, revealing what looked like a completely ordinary Station Square dweller and his family right behind him.

"Yeah, I don't know, honey, the guy at the front desk said-" The man turned his head from assumedly his wife and kids and looked into the room. He looked shocked and confused when he saw Rubrum just sitting there near the phone, and then enraged as he charged into the room, shouting, "Hey, who are you and why are you in our room!?"

There was no response given by Rubrum as he jumped out of the stool to dodge the suitcase that had been thrown by him. Nor was further commentary given when he charged towards the room's window and leapt right through, leaving behind a completely flummoxed family of four right behind him.

"The fucker hung up on me."

The nerve. The utter audacity. Sorun had never been hung up on before but now that it'd happened finally he found he decidedly did not like it one bit. But even that feeling was nothing compared to the anger he was feeling for being all but snubbed by a fabric guy of all people. He hadn't felt this insulted in an least two months.

Surprisingly he wasn't mad enough to not hear the sound of breaking glass from what sounded like a room right above his. He'd have to be completely deaf not to hear the sound of, oddly enough, somebody screaming as they fell by Sorun's window. He'd turned to see the commotion, blinking rapidly in surprise, but if somebody had fallen past his window he'd been too late to see it.

Ignoring that somebody probably just committed suicide near Sorun, he turned his eyes back to the phone, eyes shining green. That dull tone was still blaring out through the receiver, and all it did was remind Sorun more and more of what just happened. He could picture it all now: him going back and getting yelled at by Honey for screwing up a simple job and having to pay for a hotel room for nothing, followed by her sulking for the next week because of the lost opportunity. He could tell she'd really been looking forwards to those silks.

Two days of his time and Honey's hopes dashed because some prick decided to turn to a bigger buck.

"Fucking eccentrics!" In anger at the whole situation, Sorun had slammed the receiver back down into the phone.

In hindsight, somewhat of a mistake. One Sorun realized when he slammed down too hard, causing the receiver to smash through the rotary phone. And then the nightstand under that, causing it to split in two and fall to shambles.

The angered breathing coming out of Sorun hitched into stillness the second he realized what he did. He stood up straight, looking down at the destroyed nightstand and phone in surprise, the receiver still in his hand with the disconnected cable dangling off of it. A few moments later his expression softened into one of annoyance mixed with resignation.

At the same moment that happened, his green eyes went back to being blue. After that the coughing started - loud, hacking coughs that had Sorun doubled over and caused him to drop the receiver in his hand. The coughing attack was one that only lasted a few seconds, but ended with Sorun feeling a bit winded and panting heavily as he looked down at the destroyed remains. The mild throb in his right hand from doing the act had already faded.

"Still... still getting worse." He straightened back up once his breathing had calmed down. His earlier expression had now turned into a morose one. "Man... if the hotel complains to Honey this is for sure coming out of my pay."

What a waste of a trip. He'd figured even after everything he'd walk away from this at least getting paid, but now he wasn't even sure of that. And to make things worse there was... what he'd just done. With the nightstand.

Silently, he gazed down at his hand. He didn't know what to think about the fact the fingernails on his right hand had darkened to a black color, but were quickly turning back to their normal, pale color. Despite how odd it looked he didn't find himself very surprised at the sight. He didn't know what to think about that, either.

"..." Sorun sighed and did his best to put it out of his mind as he pocketed his right hand. "Let's just grab the damn pizza and go home," he thought to himself as he hunted around the floor for the discarded Emerald.

The first thought that went through Sorun's head when he stepped through the portal was, "How the hell am I supposed to spin this with Honey?"

On the upside she was a rational person. On the best of days. It was hardly Sorun's fault the deal fell through when he didn't even get a single convincing word in the conversation, and the guy had made it sound like he made his mind up before he'd even picked up the phone. There was a solid chance she would see it from his point of view and understand.

But there was a chance she wouldn't. And then she'd start yelling at him, and Sorun would have to stand there staring blankly at the wall as he did his best to just wait out her tantrum until she finally calmed down. He was almost positive his job wasn't on the line as a result of all this, so that was a strong positive. 'Bout the only positive in this whole experience. Sorun didn't even know what he was more upset over - that he felt guilty over how all this turned out and that this trip was for nothing or that Honey missed out on those silks.

The warm pizza box he held in his left had wasn't of much comfort to Sorun on the matter. Maybe if he were a pizza guy it would be, but he'd always been more a burger and fries guy, minus the burger. The others would like it, though, which is what Sorun cared about most. They deserved the break and seeing them all smile was about the only salvageable moment he'd be able to salvage out of this whole trip.

He didn't think he'd be staying around for a pizza party, though. Beyond not being the biggest fan of pizza, he just plain didn't like being in this place. Too many reminders in the ol' HQ of what he used to do here and everything associated with that. No, he'd just drop the pizza off, bid everyone adieu, and go home. Even better maybe nobody was there so he could just dump the thing off in the fridge, because he wasn't seeing anybody so far.

Oh, no, there was someone there. He found Sonic in the meeting room, the one with the big oval table and the chairs. Funny thing, though. Sorun didn't remember Sonic having green fur.

...

"Hey, wait a minute."

Sorun froze, sheathed katana in left hand and hot pizza in right. The... assumedly not-Sonic, he had on a leather jacket with flame decals and wore shades for some reason, was leaning back on one of the chairs with his feet kicked up on the table. He, too, froze when Sorun walked into the room, only moving to lower his shades down so bright blue eyes could look over at Sorun's darker blue eyes. He didn't make any further movements outside of that. Actually he seemed even more confused than Sorun felt from the look he had on his face.

Now that he thought about it Sorun actually did recall something Tails had told him that one time, about there being an evil Sonic from what basically amounted to an evil mirror universe of Mobius Prime. He faintly recalled it being mentioned he was green. So once he'd gotten over the hurdle of overcoming his shock Sorun was able to quickly put together who this person was, at which point his mind started going into overdrive while the two continued to stare at each other with frozen expressions and bodies.

"Ssshhhhit what do I do about this?" He wouldn't admit to feeling uneasy. No, by now Sorun was way past that. He was feeling anxious enough that he wouldn't be surprised if he started sweating because from what he remembered the evil Sonic was supposed to be on par with the original. Which was bad. Because Sorun was currently standing in the same room he was in. "If he's even remotely as fast as Sonic I don't have time to drop the pizza, draw the sword, and swing at him. I don't have time to make a portal and get the fuck out of here. Cut the Emerald into myself? Fuck. No. No time."

It was coming back. The dread. That hopeless feeling he was supposed to have left behind. He couldn't figure out a viable way out of this and he hated that. He was trying to keep his breathing under control as best he could. That, he was managing somewhat finely. The edges of his vision darkening wasn't something he could help. Or his heart beating so quickly. He couldn't help it.

"What do I do what do I do the fuck do I do here?" Couldn't fight, too weak, too slow to run, nowhere to go, nothing he could do, goddammit this was supposed to stop happening-

"Uh..." The not-Sonic was starting to talk. What had been his name? Scour or something? "So who are you?" He sounded nearly identical to Sonic but there was something under his voice that marked him as someone else. Something in his tone that Sorun could pick out. He sounded meaner.

Sorun didn't answer. Mind going too fast, thinking up so many paths out of here only for his rationale to shoot them all down as no good, doing his best to try and get the terror going through him under wraps as he desperately searched for a way out of this. The evil Sonic person was starting to look annoyed and all it was doing was making Sorun's heart go faster and his body to heat up in fear when he spoke again.

"Look, I asked a question here-"

"No hablo ingles."

There had been absolutely no rational thinking behind Sorun's choice to utter those words. No thought process. No plan. The words that came out of his mouth were the result of a desperate mind running feverishly trying to think of something to do, some way to exert some control over the situation to get this feeling of helplessness to lessen so he could just think straighter and maybe figure something out, but when the green Mobian sitting there spoke the words had just... flown out. A panicked gut reaction that'd been made more out of reflex than anything.

Miraculously it got the not-Soni - Scourge, he just now remembered the name - to go back to looking confused. Sorun's confidence had completely shriveled and died the moment he saw him sitting in that chair and put an identity to him but with that one action there was the faintest glimmer of hope.

"Committed now, god, goddammit, run with it, run with the fucking foreign pizza delivery guy story and hope he sees me as harmless enough to let me go." It was a way out. Maybe. Not a move Sorun would have made if his faculties were in good enough check but he was too far to back out now.

So that was the game. Forget Scourge, forget why he was here, forget all that. Convince him that Sorun was just some random no-name delivery guy that didn't even speak the same language and hope he just let him go. Getting out was all that mattered to Sorun. He didn't even care if it wasn't in one piece - he could fix that with the Emerald later if it got that bad.

"Excuse me?" Scourge blinked in a confused way, then lifted his shades back up to cover his eyes. He shifted a bit in his seat - Sorun did his upmost best not to stare at the two long, diagonal scars on his torso. "No hablo what now? Huh?"

"Watashi hontoni no saikou zetsubo ningen so ware katedo sumero sumo do wa." The biggest problem with this plan was that Sorun didn't actually know any language other than English. He knew snippets of other languages at best from media consumption. Japanese the best from anime consumption. Little Latin from his mom. But he couldn't actually speak any of it or even knew what the hell he just said. Scourge didn't know that, though, so as long as he kept stringing together foreign words that vaguely sounded like a sentence he could probably pull this off. "Donde estas el Pax Romana la Hegelian Dialectics."

"I seriously don't understand a word you're saying." The confusion wouldn't leave Scourge's face. Probably a good sign. He'd stopped propping his feet on the table and was just sitting straight now while looking at Sorun. Wasn't sure if that was a good sign or not. "We even speakin' the same language here? How'd you even get into this place?"

"Derivery! Peeza derivery," Sorun answered in his best Japanese-to-butchered-English accent. "Subarashi derivery-u man-u. Za warudo besto."

"What even...?"

A door opened nearby. The door to the lab. He almost thought it was Tails that walked through, because the person who walked through certainly looked like Tails, but last Sorun checked Tails wasn't dressed to the nines like a damn Bond villain. Red jacket with metal studs. And was that... a fucking toupee on top of his head? Between his ears? Damn thing wasn't even yellow like the rest of his fur, it was dark gray. Probably wasn't even real.

Never before had such a strong desire to rip something off of someone surged through Sorun before seeing that hairpiece. The fear of horrifically dying was helping keep it at bay.

"I had a look through the computer in their lab, Scourge," the not-Tails said as the door closed behind him. Sorun didn't even need to look at him to tell it wasn't really Tails. His voice was completely flat and cold, almost bored. And it seemed he shared Sorun's affliction of resting bitch face syndrome. "Childish security measures, really. Encryption was third-rate and I managed to just guess the passwords, so whenever you want-" He stopped when he noticed Sorun. His face didn't change to match the confused look Scourge was holding, but he did raise an eye ridge. "We have an intruder?"

"I ain't even sure," Scourge replied, sounding lost. "He just sorta... showed up. Outta the blue. I think he's a pizza delivery guy."

"A delivery man. Really," the evil Tails drawled out. Cold, piercing eyes scanned over Sorun's whole body, hands clasped behind his back at the fox looked him up and down. "What drove you to that conclusion?"

"Well, he's got a pizza. Not getting a word he's saying but I think I picked up 'delivery' in there somewhere." Scourge shrugged. "I dunno, just kinda fits. You order a pizza through the computer thing they got back there?"

"I most certainly did not." A more critical glare was forming in not-Tails' eyes. "He doesn't look like any delivery man I've ever seen. And I don't know of a pizza delivery profession that has one carry around a sword."

Now Sorun was pretty sure he was sweating. Fox was probably as smart as this world's one, and Sorun didn't have any hope of outsmarting him. But he was too deep now. The best hope he had was to keep riding it out and hope the cover story held.

Scourge shrugged. "I dunno, man, you know this world's almost as messed up as ours. They probably have to carry around weapons in case they get jumped by a bandit or robot or whatever else is wrong with this place. Look, if you're gonna be so suspicious then go and check it."

Tails With a Bad Haircut looked over at Scourge. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me." He lazily gestured over in Sorun's direction. "Go on, chop chop. I wanna see where this goes."

A bit of a scowl formed on the evil Tails' face, but regardless he turned back towards Sorun and approached him. He stopped right in front of Sorun, with his face scrunching in disgust when he eyed the white box in Sorun's hand. "Well?" he asked. "Let's go, give it to me. Quickly."

Wordlessly, Sorun handed him the box. It was quickly snatched out of his hands by the Tails that wasn't Tails, who gave him a decidedly calculating glare before turning his attention to the box in his hands. His hands moved to open it, the appendages moving with trepidatious speed that matched with the slight look of anxiety his features carried as he moved to open the box's lid. With the way he was moving Sorun would have figured the fox was assuming there was a bomb or something in that box.

In fairness to him if Sorun knew beforehand what he'd be walking into it would have been something he'd probably have done.

The box's lid was flipped open. Unsurprisingly there was nothing but an ordinary pizza on the inside.

Not-Tails' face alit with surprise. "Hm. Curious."

"What? What? What is it?" Scourge asked, sounding impatient.

"It actually is just a pizza."

"Ooh, lemme see." Scourge was standing next to the not-Tails now. Sorun hadn't even seen him get up or shift positions. The only evidence he'd moved was a green speed trail that disappeared completely the moment Sorun had registered its existence. And while his heartrate continued to spike further and further as he silently watched on Scourge had taken a slice of the pizza and took a bite. He made an approving hum and nodded. "Wow, hey, this is actually pretty decent. Go figure."

Evil Tails gave the green hedgehog the same look that disappointed parents often gave their children before they beat them with a belt. "You ate it. Just like that," he stated, not sounding surprised in the least. More nonplussed than anything else. "Despite the fact not a single person here ordered pizza, nor even have the means to, prompting so much suspicion on whoever this person is I'm genuinely shocked he's not in binds yet, you ate it. Did it never occur to you once that maybe this was a ruse?"

"Eh? Ruse?" Scourge had finished off that slice of pizza. He was already going for a second.

The beginnings of frustration was worming its way into not-Tails' voice. "From perhaps the Freedom Fighters whose base of operations we've appropriated from? Hmm? The thought never once crossed your mind they sent some fool who can't even speak properly to poison us and-"

"Ha! Ha ha ha! 'Poison us'! Hah, man, that's a riot. Great one." With a half-eaten slice of pizza in one hand Scourge had draped his free arm all carefree-like over the evil Tails' shoulders. Sorun hadn't missed how the fox had instantly gone stiff, or the fearful look that had briefly flickered in his face. "Miles, c'mon, you're a smart cookie. Ya know these good-for-nothin' goodies ain't gonna do something as nasty as poison us. That's too us! It sounds like something Alicia'd do."

"Alicia did poison some of our political rivals back when we had those."

"Yeah, see, that's what I'm sayin', there's no way they'd do that 'cause we do that."

In the midst of their conversation Sorun's mind was whirling. Continuing to struggle past all the panic and fear to think. The fact their attention was off of him and on the pizza right now was the most reprieve he'd gotten since entering the room. Allowed him some breathing room to think, to even out his breathing just a bit to try and clear his thoughts and get his heartbeat under control.

Wasn't working. His chest was starting to hurt at this point from how hard his heart was going, could even hear it in his ears, but in a weird way the pain helped him focus on the current issue. The momentary distraction was helping. He thought as quick as he could to try and come up with a plan.

"If I had just a second I could turn Yamato back into an Emerald. Use Quicksilver. Use the pointy end of the Chaos Emerald to gouge out Scourge's and Miles' eyes. Find a safe corner, end time stop, turn Emerald back into sword. Cut self open, store Emerald inside body, use Devil's Body. Go back to Scourge. Break kneecaps. Everyone else'd be helpless after. Don't know numbers, doesn't matter. Break them, too. Should be safe after."

His best and only shot. That or just running once he had a moment, but there was... something in him that didn't agree to that. Something beneath all the fear that was angry, furious, even, that all this was happening and wanted to do something about it. But wild instincts and a need for survival were mixed in, tearing him between running or ending them all once he poked their eyes out.

The internal arguments and struggles Sorun were wrestling with were moot, though, because of one solid reason: for as good as he'd gotten mentally switching out the powers with the Chaos Emerald, there was still a one-second stall time between transitioning powers. That was a second where the sword he was holding would turn into a big, glowing gem, which may as well have been a signal flare to Scourge's eyes. A second before he'd be able to stop time with it. And for Scourge's speed a second to Sorun was practically a year for him.

He needed Scourge's eyes off of him for just a moment, and the bastard had eyes on him constantly since the moment he walked into the room. Even now while he was talking with Miles at least one of the lenses of his sunglasses was visible to Sorun, meaning he was still in his view. He wasn't turning his back to him. Bad luck on Sorun's part, or maybe a sign of experience on Scourge's. Whatever the case he wasn't turning around and Sorun didn't have any way to force him that he could see.

"Whatever, whatever, look, it's free pizza so stop thinkin' so hard on it." With that, Scourge turned his attention back to Sorun. "Which by the way means I ain't payin' for this. Didn't even order it in the first place."

"Arigato muchacho. No pay. Oui." Fuck it, this worked too. He'd take just leaving if it meant it got him out of here. "Gomen, devo andare. Exodus und all das."

Sorun started to back up a few steps. So far so good; Scourge didn't seem to care all that much, because he wasn't paying him any mind even if he wouldn't turn away. It was Miles that was concerning Sorun. His eyes wouldn't leave his, and he had a deeply discerning look on his face that Sorun had found disturbing.

He hadn't even managed to back up five steps before Miles spoke whatever was on his mind.

"He's faking not being able to speak our language."

Sorun froze. His heartrate was spiking in his ears again, becoming deafening. The discerning glare Miles had became accusing. Scourge had blinked, switching his attention between Miles and Sorun, and then looking back at Sorun. He imagined Scourge was probably squinting his eyes from the other side of the sunglasses.

"... You sure?" he asked. "'Cause, uh, it's a whole lotta gibberish comin' outta him, this guy."

"It's so painfully obvious I'm insulted in not having seen it sooner," Miles grumbled out, almost spitefully. "He's been following our words perfectly. Eye movements, subtle facial shifts, increased or decreased breathing rates after certain words are said, it's all there. His 'language' is a messed jumble of different languages, likely used to throw us off."

"Hah?" Scourge craned his head down at Miles. "Different ones?"

"From the varying phonetics and pronunciations I heard at least seven. I recognized at least one. Antoine speaks it."

"Oh, yeah, those weird words." Scourge looked back to Sorun. "Say it ain't so, delivery guy. Tell me you weren't trying to two-time me here."

"..." The last time Sorun felt his heart sink like this it was when he was strapped to a table convinced he was about to be electrocuted to death. "Damn fox," he thought, glaring down at Miles. He had the audacity to look smug about it, sending up this cruel little smirk, and if he weren't so overcome with terror at the moment Sorun would feel angry over it.

But he was. Scared for his life, enough that it was honestly hard to stay on his feet. The edges of his vision were blackening even further, and breathing was taking most of his effort. But for as hard as all that was, he was even more terrified of what would happen if he made Scourge wait too long for an answer. So he forced himself to speak. That alone was taking everything Sorun had.

"L-look man... I'm just a delivery guy," Sorun stammered out, eyes darting back and forth between the two. "I don't, I don't know what this all is but it's got nothing to do with me, okay? I just deliver stuff."

"Sure, pal, sure." He was standing besides Sorun, now. Scourge. With an arm draped all friendly-like over his shoulders, with Sorun's body petrified with fear. Once more he hadn't seen the movement it'd been so fast. "I mean, props, that was almost a half-decent play 'cause it was so annoying trying to understand you I was gonna let you go just to get you outta my quills. Buuuuut now we gotta problem, don't we?" From the corner of his eyes Sorun saw Scourge giving him a predatory grin. All his teeth were sharpened to points. "Gonna have to ask you what you're doing' here deliverin' pizzas."

"I just make delivers for the guys that work here sometimes." Pretty much a fib but Scourge didn't know that. That was all Sorun could manage. He wasn't able to think about the words he was saying. "It was a regular thing, I come here once a week with a pizza, I-I don't even know who you are or why you're here."

"Hm... ah, well..." Scourge's arm was lifted off Sorun. The green hedgehog gave sort of a lazy shrug, stepping back a bit while interlacing his fingers behind his head. "If that's true, then... you must be pretty close with those Freedom Chumps, huh, guy?"

Lie. Lie, lie, lie. "They just pay me for pizza, I don't-"

"Nah nah nah nah, nah. Nah. C'mon, we're past lying here." Scourge's grin widened, showing off those sharp teeth of his. "Not claimin' to be an expert or nothin', but I got a pretty good lay of the land. Not a single pizza joint a hundred miles of here, so you must got somethin' special goin' on to make a journey like that all the time. And it ain't gonna be just anyone those idiots are gonna trust to... eh, well, maybe they would. But I gotta figure you gotta be at least on a first-name basis with 'em all if you make such regular deliveries." An airy sort of chuckle left his throat. "Eh? Mr. Delivery Guy?"

"If it helps," Miles added, almost sounding creepy with how gleeful he seemed to be finding the situation, "I was looking through the computer in their lab and came upon a personnel database and found some rather interesting files. About a human Freedom Fighter they used to have named Sorun."

Goddammit.

"That right?" Scourge leaned forwards on the balls of his feet, humming while looking Sorun over. "I don't know a whole lot about 'em, but I can spot a human, and you're lookin' pretty human-y, here, guy. Your name wouldn't happen to be Sorun, now, would it? Huh?"

"Nnnno..." Sorun denied. It was a weak denial, though. Said in a weak voice. From the smiles both of the Mobians were wearing it was clear they saw the lie. "My name's not Sorun, it's... Caeruleus."

For the first time since this interrogation started Scourge's grin dropped. "I said quit lying, so knock it off with the language shtick." The grin returned, and he began slowly stepping forwards. "But I mean, come on, it's obvious. Look at you. This coat?" He stopped right in front of Sorun, poking him in the shoulder. "Look at this coat. This coat's fly. There's no way some background extra like a pizza delivery guy'd be wearing somethin' this distinctive, right? Former Freedom Fighter, though, hey... I can see it." His eyes flickered downwards. "Weird sword's kinda a dead giveaway, too, now that I think about it."

Sorun had ended up stumbling back from the pokes on the shoulder Scourge had given him. He was becoming lightheaded. Staying on his feet was becoming a challenge, the breathing was getting worse and he couldn't even think coherent thoughts at this point. He was pretty sure he was shaking at this point.

"Alright, alright, quit it with the huffin'. Geez." Stepping back a bit, Scourge turned back to Miles. "Well hey, listen, I wasn't planning on taking a hostage, but if this guy's just gonna wander in here, I mean, we just gotta, right? We can probably get those guys frothing at the mouth with this." He turned back to Sorun, grin ever wider. "And hey, tell ya what! That pizza? Not bad at all! So I won't even break your legs over the whole lying thing!"

It was too much. Too much. Everything was spinning, vision blurring so much that nothing was clear. Skin so hot it felt like it was on fire, chest nothing but a loud, constant throb. He couldn't even breath anymore, like a dam somewhere inside of him had burst and was smothering him. Too much. Too much pressure, too much fear. Sorun couldn't take it anymore.

"I... I can't..." He swayed on his feet, quickly feeling his balance losing him. He couldn't even tell when he'd fallen over - his vision was too blurred to make out the change in scenery. He hadn't been able to feel the impact. All of it, everything, the world around him. All fading. "It's too much, I... it... help..."

Everything went dark as Sorun lost consciousness.

He'd fainted from fright.

A/N- I kinda thought about Sorun faking a heart attack as a last-ditch attempt but it felt too campy at that point. I'm already walking a tightrope between comedy and seriousness here. But yeah, here's the Scourge fight everyone wanted for some reason. All wrapped up in a single chapter and everything.