AN: The previous two chapters were published while FF dot net alerts were wonky, so you may want to quickly check that you've read them.
"Here, dear." Ebony the Black Cat offered her housemate a steaming cup of tea. "This should help with the pain."
Pyjamas the Sheepdog didn't react immediately, continuing to hold her head and whimper with distress for another few moments. Eventually, however, she cracked open an eyelid.
"That's not going to turn me into a toad, is it?" She croaked out.
Ebony rolled her eyes. "No, it won't." She insisted, trying to keep the annoyance out of her voice.
Honestly. Her teas hadn't turned anyone into anything in months.
Dubiously, Pyjamas reached out for the teacup with trembling hands. Ebony put her hands around Pyjamas's to make sure she didn't spill hot tea over herself, steadying her grip as she took a long sip.
"Ooooooooohh." Pyjamas slumped back into her chair, the tension visibly leaving her body. "Thank you dear… that already feels much better."
"Yes, well… I am cheating quite a bit." Ebony said, taking the tea cup from Pyjamas's slack fingers. She spun her own finger above the surface of the tea, and little sparkles drifted down from her fingertips into the dark liquid.
Pyjamas let out a good-natured snort, long used to her housemate's magical shenanigans.
"I take it you were having another one of your 'visions'?" Ebony asked, one eyebrow raised.
Pyjamas let out a long, resigned sigh. "Yes, dear." She said, her voice tired. "Another one of my visions."
"What was it this time?" Ebony asked, slightly sarcastically. "Are we going to be invaded by butterflies again, or are the trees going to destroy the world?"
Pyjamas had never understood why a sorceress had such a hard time believing in the powers of a psychic, but this was an argument they'd had many, many times before; in the way that only two women running a coffee shop together could really do.
"Something's happened to the future." Pyjamas mumbled, her fingers rubbing her temples behind the bushy white hair that hung low over her eyes. "It's all… scrambled. Like the present is, but even worse… Honestly, dear, it hurts to look at. If it wasn't for the fact that my visions come and go…"
"Hush." Ebony lifted the teacup to Pyjamas's lips again, making sure her friend drank the last of the dregs. "Let me worry about things being broken for now. There's still a few old spellbooks I haven't gone over yet, I'm sure I'll find something to – ugh!"
Ebony grit her teeth, holding in a cry of pain as a glitching fit quickly came and went.
"I think I'll try the Silver Rings of Selene next." She said between clenched teeth. "It's a much better idea than that stupid suggestion of hiding in a storybook."
"Ebony…" Pyjamas hesitated. "I saw Super Sonic."
Ebony froze.
"I know you don't think much of my visions, but…"
There was a sombre silence between the two for a long moment.
"Well, it's not like I didn't know if he was alright." Ebony said quietly. "Or where he was."
She'd been the one to merge him back into Sonic, after all.
"Dear –"
"I'd better make some more of this tea." Ebony interrupted quickly, quickly getting up. "In case your migraine comes back again."
A hand wearing a red sleeve with a white fur cuff passed Ebony a new cup of tea.
"Er… thanks." Ebony blinked downwards, taking the cup without thinking.
…
"Wait, hang on a –" Ebony spun around, but there was nobody else there – just a steaming tea kettle left on the side table.
Kevin the Squirrel hated his life.
"– and another thing! Just because the world's coming to an end, you think you can skip out on providing for this family?! Why, of all the most irresponsible, self-centred –"
It was slightly difficult to be sure, with all the frying-pan blows to the head, but he was reasonably certain he'd run away from home to escape from his shrill of a wife.
Twice.
He was, as far as he knew, the only person on the whole planet who missed being trapped inside a robot. So much that he'd dived head-first into one of those animal-capturing capsules.
Stupid Sonic and Tails, and their stupid need to 'rescue' people.
"– have you even taken out the trash?! You were supposed to do that –"
Was she still going?! Usually she was out of breath by now!
Quickly, Kevin mumbled something that sounded like agreement, and dashed out the door; closing it behind himself with a hard shove.
When his wife didn't try and chase him outside, he let out a long tired exhale.
As he went to walk away, however, he nearly tripped over a colourfully-wrapped box left by his front door. Somewhat confused, he picked it up and examined it.
It was addressed to his wife, from… him? Huh? There was a faint rattle when he shook it…
Suspicious now, he tore off the wrapping and got a good look at the contents…
…this…!
This was a jade necklace!
This was the jade necklace! The expensive one! The one his wife had hinted that she wanted with all the subtlety of a baseball bat to the face!
Kevin knew what he had to do now. He crouched down, resolute in his path…
…and started sprinting as fast as he could in the direction of the nearest pawn shop.
In the faint moonlight, a spectral figure could just barely be seen on top of Kevin's home… facepalming.
Cyrus the Lion thought that things could be going better.
On one hand: Robotnik apparently wasn't in Robotropolis, and there was no signs he was coming back any time soon.
On the other hand: something was wrong with Robotropolis.
"Still no luck contacting anybody?" Trevor the Mouse leaned over his shoulder.
"No." Cyrus growled. "Just like the last six times you've asked me. Today."
Trevor at least had the decency to wince. "Sorry, sorry. It's just…"
Cyrus sighed. "I know, I get it…"
The city above them was glitching, like a badly coded file in Castle Conquest. The Resistance counted four different versions that the city kept switching between. This wouldn't have been such a problem, except that one of those versions was highly radioactive. If it wasn't for the fact that indoor spaces didn't seem to be affected by the glitching, Cyrus was sure that Robotropolis would be a dead city by now.
"Even though it's only there some of the time, the radiation is making it hard to get a signal out." Cyrus leaned back in his chair, staring at the ceiling. "We can manage broadcasts sometimes, but…"
"…but try too hard, and the SWATbots will find us." Trevor finished with a sigh.
Even without Robotnik being in the city, his minions were still being a right pain. Sometimes, when the airwaves were clearer, some of them just randomly went berserk and started attacking everything in sight!
"...any progress on figuring out –?"
Cyrus let out a long groan.
"Sorry, sorry!" Trevor threw up his hands.
"Just because I'm the tech guy doesn't mean I know everything." Cyrus grumbled. "This whole glitching thing reminds me of that old story about the disappearing city of Mobodoon, but that's all I've got."
What did they think he was, some kind of super genius? Like the Resistance would be lucky enough to just casually have one on hand. Life wasn't that convenient. He could get creative with alloys, and make some fake SWATbots, but this was completely out of his league.
Cyrus sighed, and pushed back his chair. "I've finished another two of the CBRN armours." He said, standing up. "So that's another two Resistance members who'll be able to leave the sewers."
"And just in time for Christmas." Trevor said, somewhat sarcastically.
Cyrus paused, staring at the wall. "It's Christmas already…?"
"Uh…" Trevor blinked, suddenly worried. "Yeah dude, it's been December all month."
"I know, I just…!" Cyrus inhaled, and let out a deep exhale. "…my dad and I always spent Christmas together…"
"O-oh…" Trevor said, biting his bottom lip in worry.
Cyrus's dad had, after all, been roboticized.
"I guess…" Cyrus mumbled. "I kinda had this dream that we'd be done by now, you know?"
"Yeah…" Trevor sighed, and walked up besides Cyrus; staring at the same patch of wall. "Yeah, I know."
"Robotnik toppled… the queen back on the throne… all those people roboticized somehow magically turned back to normal…" Cyrus continued.
Trevor put an arm around Cyrus's shoulders. "We'll get there." He said, somehow managing to put some confidence in the words.
"But how long's it going to take?" Cyrus said. "And how many people are we gonna lose along the way?"
Cyrus wiped his face against the back of his arm, the golden fur coming away wet. "…I don't even have a picture of my dad…"
Trevor didn't say anything for a long moment. Then, slowly, his eyebrows knit together in confusion.
"You don't?" He asked.
Cyrus nodded, still taking deep breaths.
Trevor turned around. "Then what's that picture sitting on your desk there?"
Cyrus spun around so fast you'd swear he'd been set to 'spin cycle'. There, on his desk, was a framed picture of his dad and he hugging each other and laughing.
A small, red ribbon was tied around the corner.
Anton Veruca knew there was going to be trouble the minute he unwrapped his present and realised it was a cake.
Now, in nearly any other circumstance, he'd just scarf the cake and be done with it.
Even if it wasn't his cake.
Especially if it wasn't his cake.
But this situation was different.
Here, he was home.
With his annoying younger quadruplet siblings.
And his mom.
"What's that?" Mad asked, trying to peer over his shoulder.
"Nothing!" Anton spun around, his back to the wall. His lizard tail quickly wrapped around the boxed cake and lifted it up and out of the reach of annoying little brothers.
"Anton's got cake!" Migu shouted, having already climbed halfway up his person, because he'd forgotten to consider annoying little sisters.
"Anton…" His mom rumbled ominously. "You were going to let me have the first bite… right?"
Anton sweated. His mom was huge, and she didn't get that way by taking small bites of food. "Er… ah… hey, look!" He shouted, suddenly pointing down one of the two entrances to the cave his family were currently living in. "It's Sonic!"
As one, the rest of his family swivelled their heads around. "Sonic?" "Where?!" "He's not gonna get away this time!" "We're gonna give him a proper beating now!"
Seizing his chance, Anton shoved Migu away and ran for the other entrance as fast as his lizard legs would take him.
"Gah! Anton!" "No fair, you have to share!" Hud and Tod yelled, running after him.
"Don't you run from me, Anton." His mom's eyes flashed dangerously. She reached down for the closest object at hand – a chair – and hurled it after her fleeing son.
Anton dived to avoid the flying furniture, but in his panic, his tail's grasp on the cake slackened, and the box went flying…!
"Anton!" His mom yelled, and Anton swallowed, knowing he was really in for it now…
But then a small, slender hand deftly caught the boxed cake before it could splatter and spun it around on one finger. A knife was produced from somewhere and – faster than the eye could see – neatly sliced the cake into seven portions.
"No need to fuss, everyone." Anton's dad smiled in that genial way he somehow always managed to, skipping back into the cave and passing out slices of cake with practised ease.
Anton's mom swallowed her slice of Anton's cake in one whole bite, looking more annoyed than mollified, but didn't say anything further.
Thanks for the save, dad, Anton groused to himself, furiously munching on the one-seventh slice of what was supposed to be his cake, but next year, I'm gonna open my presents where mom can't see.
"Chris?" Cosmo asked, confused. "What are these?"
Chris blinked and picked up the brightly wrapped present. "It's… it's a Christmas present."
"Who's Christmas?" Cosmo looked up at Chris in confusion.
(Despite currently being stuck in his 10 year old body, Sonic and nearly everyone from his universe were all still about a head shorter than he was. Apparently, humans were just… tall, by cosmic standards.)
"No no no, Christmas isn't a person." Chris awkwardly shut his eyes and scratched the side of his face. "Christmas is a time of year where everybody gives presents, to show they care about each other."
"Oh…" Cosmo said, taking the present off Chris and looking it over curiously.
Chris wasn't surprised she'd never heard of Christmas – Sonic and the others hadn't heard of it either, that winter they'd spent in his world. And Cosmo wasn't even from Sonic's version of Earth – she was a proper alien, a plant-girl with flower buds on either side of her head and a dress made of flower petals.
"Why's the tag say 'From Santa Claus'?" Cosmo asked, looking at the item in question.
"Er, well… that's kind of an old story…" Chris's smile became very awkward. "See, there was a story back on my planet about a magical man who always gave presents out to kids who'd been good that year. So parents would often say that their presents were from Santa instead of from them."
Cosmo frowned. "That doesn't sound very nice… I'm sure the kids would have loved knowing that their parents gave them their presents…"
Chris didn't say anything. He was too busy cringing internally at his memories of that Christmas he'd gotten to spend with Sonic. He'd still believed in Santa, back then, and had tried to convince Sonic that he was real. Sonic had run all over the Artic, trying to prove him wrong; only for his grandfather to tell Sonic bemusedly that Santa's workshop was magic, and only appeared on Christmas day.
Sonic had been so exasperated at that explanation, Chris remembered.
And then two years later he'd caught his grandfather in a Santa costume putting presents under the tree, and the whole thing became moot.
He supposed something similar had happened here: his parents had probably snuck some presents in with the last set of supplies they'd sent over with the Chaotix. It was really overbearing of them – what else was new – but still…
…that Christmas that he did get to spend with Sonic had been really fun.
Chris sighed, and opened his eyes again. This time, there was just a hint of enthusiasm in them. "Wanna see what's inside?"
Cosmo blinked up at him. "But isn't this for you?"
"No?" Chris answered, confused. "See? It's got your name on it." He pointed at the tag again.
…wait a minute. If this present had come from his parents, then how did they know…?
Outside the window, the golden glow of a Warp Ring could briefly be seen, before a brief glimpse of a sleigh vanished inside it.
"Eat the rich" was a sentence sometimes banded about as a dark joke by poor people wondering where their next meal was going to come from, and frustrated with the inequality of the world around them.
Not so for the Nasty Hyenas. They had a very simple way of determining where their food was coming from.
Walk up to some random person, and offer them the position of king.
If they accepted, season them with pepper; and cook them in a nice stew.
Or maybe a casserole, if they could steal the ingredients.
One time, they'd nabbed both a chicken and a pig, and Pinky had cooked the most amazing quiche lorraine…
A-hem.
Oh, sure, people – usually, very angry people with pitchforks and torches – called it cannibalism, but who leapt at the chance for power without asking questions clearly wasn't worth keeping around anyway.
Of course, their last catch had been a few days ago now, and breakfast had been the last of the leftovers. Something weird was happening to the Great Forest; every so often the trees would… Clyde didn't know the words to describe what exactly was going on, having never used a computer in his life; but it wasn't natural, that was for sure. It was like the trees couldn't decide which forest they were from!
"Boss! Boss!"
Clyde slowed his hover-bike to a stop as Blinky pulled up alongside him. "What is it?"
Blinky smirked. "I found our next king! Practically gift-wrapped for us!" He said, proudly holding up by the scruff of the neck a pale, frail-looking chinchilla with a large ornamental hat on.
Keeping in mind that 'king' meant 'meal' in this context, Clyde was less than impressed with Blinky's pick.
"Where'd you find this scrawny runt?" He asked dubiously.
The catch in question raised his hand. "Oh, I'm from nowhere important." He said in an overly genial tone of voice, a wide smile on his face. "Honestly, the rest of Gogoba Village is better off without me anyway. Without any form of leadership they'll descend into violent anarchy, but that honestly sounds like a lot of fun!"
Clyde blinked slowly, having no idea what to make of the Gogoba(?)'s cheerful attitude. "…right. Well, Blinky probably told you already, but you've been chosen to be our new king!"
"Oh, how delightful!" The Gogoba chieftain nodded, still smiling. "I'm sure being the leader of a small village makes me well prepared to be the ruler of an entire kingdom. My complete inexperience can't possibly lead to any catastrophic blunders… and even if they do, the destroyed remnants of your civilisation will provide gainful employment to archaeologists and sociologists for generations to come!"
Clyde stared at the Gogoba chieftain as he nodded to himself. This was… not how this usually worked. "Yeah, uh… you're not… looking forward to the perks or anything?"
"How could I think of perks at a time like this?" The Gogoba chieftain exclaimed, his eyes convincingly wide. "The only thoughts in my head are those of my poor fellow villagers, forced to prepare for the winter without me. Although, that's one less mouth to feed; so when you think about it, every grieving family is actually a net positive!"
Clyde glanced behind the babbling idiot to see Inky sneaking up with an iron skillet, ready to swing. Pinky was already getting out the pepper shaker. Clyde rolled his eyes and subtly shook his head.
If this guy was supposed to be a present, Clyde would have preferred a lump of coal.
"I don't think this is going to work." He said aloud, in case Inky hadn't gotten the message. "Let him go."
Inky and Blinky both slumped, and Pinky pouted, but the Gogoba chieftain just nodded. "Oh, that's probably for the best, really. I wouldn't want to inconvenience you in your lifestyle of kidnapping and general hooliganary."
Clyde would be insulted, but honestly 'hooligan' was one of the mildest things the Nasty Hyenas had ever been called. "Yeah, yeah. Just get outta here." He waved the chieftain off as Blinky dropped him.
"Oof!" The chieftain fell onto the thin layer of snow covering the forest floor. Groggily, he picked himself up. "Oh, don't worry about me. I'll just follow the tracks back to my home."
He gestured behind himself to where Blinky's hover-bike had very obviously not left tracks in the snow.
"Yeah, sure." Clyde waved him off, mounting his own hover-bike as the others got ready to break camp.
"I'll probably be violently eaten by a wild animal before hypothermia has a chance to set in." The Gogoba chieftain said cheerfully. "And then in the spring my distraught family will be able to find my picked-clean bones and finally have some closure!"
Clyde stared at the horizon for a moment.
He didn't care one whit about this idiot's problems.
He didn't.
"Oh dear, your head looks cold." The Gogoba chieftain observed, taking off his headpiece. "Here, wear this. Sure, it was woven over generations upon generations of my ancestors, filled with irreplaceable memories, but please! I want you to have it –"
"All right!" Clyde exploded, twisting around on his bike to snarl at the chieftain. "We'll take you home! Just stop… that!"
"Whatever do you mean?" The Gogoba chieftain asked with feigned innocence.
Clyde snarled, picking the chieftain up by the scruff of the neck and depositing him onto the back of his bike.
They'd ride to where Blinky had found this idiot and drop him off.
He couldn't guilt them any further after they'd done that, right?
The lighting in Mystic Cave Zone wasn't the best, Iggy the Mouse thought, but at least it was enough to read by.
Which was great, because the presents that had been left on her desk were more than a bit wordy. A beginners guide to Egg, Egg++ and Egg# was full of the dry, technical language that engineers seemed to love torturing each other with.
"I hope Sonic is okay." She said, sticking her tongue out of her mouth in concentration as she turned the page. "Both of them."
She'd only met the super-fast hedgehog the one time, but he seemed like a nice guy – albeit with an overinflated opinion of himself. She'd gotten the chance to tag along for an adventure… though if she was really honest, she was pretty sure that was because Tails had gotten stuck inside Robotnik's computer network and Sonic was about as computer literate as your average mushroom.
There was a flicker in her peripheral vision, and Iggy looked up eagerly – but the object in the corner of the area of cave she called her bedroom remained an Item Box. She pouted, disappointed, and went back to her reading.
Of course, knowing C and Cobol didn't really prepare you for trying to operate a computer from the inside. Frankly, Iggy wasn't really sure that anything did. But they'd gotten everybody out in the end… even if they'd had to leave the digital copy of Sonic behind in the computer.
The flicker happened again, and Iggy looked up to see that the Item Box had finally become a computer terminal again. Quickly, she rushed over to it. "Psyche! Are you alright?"
There was an awful pause…
"Yes, Iggy. I am fine."
Iggy sighed. "Oh, thank goodness. With everything going on, I was worried that the computer network would be…"
"It has certainly changed, that is true." Psyche's faint, ethereal voice agreed vaguely. "How goes your reading?"
Iggy looked behind herself – at the small stack of finished books, and the larger one of books she hadn't even opened yet. Cyberspace and you, How to train your A.I.…
"I don't know how much help I'm going to be…" Iggy covered her face in her hands in despair. "It's all gotten so complicated…"
"I know you can do it, Iggy." Psyche reassured. "You're too smart and too stubborn to give up now."
Iggy frowned. "We only got this far with your help – yours and the digital Sonic's."
"But you do have my help." Psyche pointed out. "And I have yours. We'll get this network cleaned up, Iggy, don't you worry."
Iggy sagged. "Just as long as you're both careful…"
"Of course." Psyche said. "Merry Christmas, Iggy."
With a flicker, the terminal became an Item Box again.
"Merry Christmas, Psyche." Iggy sighed, and returned to her reading.
"And stay out!"
The front door of the building was slammed open, and a weasel in a plaid tan and brow coat was none-too-gently hurled out.
Bouncing on his tush, the weasel quickly stood up and spun around, just in time to see the door slam in his face.
"Hey, palsy!" The weasel ran up to the door and pounded on it frantically. "Don't be like that! We can still work out a deal! How about 50% off if you buy twice as much? Buy one get one! You haven't even checked out all the membership reward programs!"
No response came from the door, other than the sound of the lock being turned and the inhabitant stomping away angrily.
The weasel paused for a moment, then bent over to pick up his hat.
"Hmph." He made a dismissive noise, putting his hat back on and straightening his tie. "Smarter than average rubes in this neighbourhood. Still, I'll find a sucker here, or my name isn't Wes Weasely!"
Glancing from side to side, the salesman hid his mouth behind a hand and whispered to you: "And strictly speaking, it isn't! Not since that little misunderstanding with the fuzz down south... but you know what I meant!"
Brushing the road dust off of his briefcase, Wes strutted his way down the road.
"Hmmm." Wes mused, watching a building violently disagree with itself about its own architecture, two buildings trying to occupy the same space for a moment before the glitching fit cleared up and the building settled on only having one appearance. "Tricky sales conditions, these."
Ordinarily, he'd have been sprucing something to 'help' people with their glitching conditions, but unfortunately the other Breezie had already cornered that market. Now, that was a woman with a shrewd head on her shoulders!
Apparently the version of him from her world had even worked for her as an announcer! Heh. Good gig. Not quite for him, though, which is why he'd waited until she turned her back and stolen one of the T.D.E.s laid out on the table before her.
She'd called security on him, obviously, but even with his back turned to run Wes was pretty sure she had been smirking as she did it. Wes considered himself a good judge of character – the quality of his own character notwithstanding – and he was pretty sure she enjoyed the game as much as he did.
Well. As much as he did normally. With nobody biting, the game was getting old, fast.
"Wes Weasly old buddy, you're gonna have to find somebody to fleece soon, or else you'll be left with just the clothes on your back – and these are a rental!" Wes frowned to himself, tapping his shoes on the sidewalk.
His thoughts were broken up by the sounds of a bell being rung, and he looked up to see a man in an ill-fitting Santa costume walking up and down the street with a donations box strapped to his chest.
"Charity!" The Santa impersonator called. "Help members of our community down on their luck get back on their feet! Clothes and job training!"
Wes snapped his fingers. "That's it! Of course!"
He started to run after the Santa impersonator. "Good sir, good sir! I see the good work you are trying to do here! But have you considered investing your donations on one of several high-risk high-return investment opportunities? Why, I can recommend several –"
Wes's spiel was interrupted only briefly as he stumbled over a lump of coal that somebody had carelessly left on the sidewalk.
Highway 66, like any major road, was no stranger to big flaming pile-ups of cars.
Usually though, that was because the cars had smashed into each other; and not, y'know, because a bunch of robots were shooting at them like it was freaking Star Wars.
Now, a bunch of his countrymen had decided that this was their chance to be action movie protagonists, and had promptly exercised their Second Amendment rights in the general direction of the large, red, humanoid robots.
Only to discover that the blasted things apparently had amour that laughed off 9mm rounds, .40 calibre rounds, and in one case, 12-gauge buckshot. Cheating little sons of… The burning wrecks of cars littering the highway was proof enough that the robots didn't have the same problem the other way around.
Now, if Farmer Zimmer had half a brain, he'd have hightailed it out of there pronto.
Of course, that would have meant abandoning the family trapped in their SUV by the burning wrecks, and he wasn't nearly that heartless.
Didn't mean he wasn't screwed six ways to Sunday, though.
"Help! Help!" The family pounded on the SUV dooors.
Farmer Zimmer grunted, backing his pickup up for another run at the flaming cars around the SUV. If he could just knock one out of the way…
Clunk
Clunk
Clunk
Shoot, Farmer Zimmer thought, reluctantly looking behind himself, thought I'd have more time than this.
The big angry red robots – he'd later find out they were called Egg Pawns – all aimed great big blaster guns in his direction, and their barrels all started to glow as they charged up shots…
Hoooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooonk
Salvation arrived in the unexpected form of a eighteen-wheeler truck smashing into the Egg Pawns without slowing down.
Farmer Zimmer blinked several times, trying to clear the absurd image from his mind, but the Big Rig stayed firmly in front of him. It kept going, only stopping when it hit the same flaming wrecks he'd been about to try and ram himself, the brakes slamming on with sparks flying and squealing tires. The trailer swung out, nearly tipping the whole thing over.
The SUV, seeing its chance, immediately made a break for it – but Farmer Zimmer hopped out of his own truck, running over to the eighteen-wheeler.
"You guys okay?" Farmer Zimmer called up.
"Dur, Mike? Is it just me, or are da roads really busy today?" Came a slightly muffled voice speaking in a Chicago accent so thick you could make soup out of it.
"Nah, Griz." Came another voice with the same accent – the driver, Farmer Zimmer thought. "Der's definitely more o' dem no-good robots on da road den usual. Robotnik must be tryin' somthin' stupid again."
Farmer Zimmer pounded on the driver-side door. "Hey! You guys alright?"
He was pretty sure they were now, but y'know, just in case…
The driver-side window was rolled down, and an actual bear stuck his head out the window. "Huh? Oh, uh, yeah?"
Farmer Zimmer stared blankly up at the bear speaking with a perfect Chicago accent, his brain refusing to process what was blatantly in front of him.
Suddenly, the driver – Mike? – slapped a hand on his door affectionately. "Ah, don' worry 'bout us none, mister. Tails gave dis baby a good workin' over a little ways back – an' you wouldn't know it to look at him, but the kid's an bona-fide genius, don't cha know!"
"Der ain't nothin' stuck in da bonnet, ain't there?" Griz leaned over from the passenger seat, letting Farmer Zimmer see that he was another bear.
"Uh…" Farmer Zimmer was basically running on auto-pilot at this point, so he glanced over at the front of the eighteen-wheeler. "You got a robot arm stuck in the grill?"
"Ah, dat'll buff out." Mike waved off, unconcerned. "T'anks, tho – we was worried we weren't gonna make it to da next gas station."
"Not about the robots?" Farmer Zimmer blinked.
Mike grinned at him savagely. "There ain't no robots what can stand in da way off…"
Griz and Mike put their arms around each other's shoulders and cried in unison "Da Bears!"
The engine of the eighteen-wheeler roared, and Farmer Zimmer stumbled backwards as the truck rushed backwards, ready to continue its trek down the highway.
"Hey Mike?" Farmer Zimmer heard, before the bears drove off. "You sure we running low on gas?"
"Sure I'm sure, Griz. Why you askin'?"
"'cause the gauge is saying we're full, is why!"
As the eighteen-wheeler roared off into the distance, Farmer Zimmer thought he could see a bright red ribbon tied around the fuel door.
"Hey, uh, Sleet?"
Sleet the Wolf grit his teeth together. "Yes, you orange imbecile?"
Dingo didn't react to the insult, having long since grown used to the abuse hurled his way by Sleet. (And also just not understanding half the words he used anyway.) "Uh, what's Christmas?"
While Dingo's words were spoken with a distinct Australian accent, Sleet's own sleazy voice had that slant usually reserved for stereotypical toadies and underlings of the snickering and lever-pulling varieties. The impression imparted by Sleet's voice was backed up by his slick body armour and enormous cape; the impression given off by Dingo's voice was reinforced by the fact that he didn't wear a shirt.
Sleet frowned, but didn't turn his attention away from the controls of their scorpion-shaped ship. "Where did you hear that name?"
"Oh, some of the Badnik Troopers were talking about it." Dingo said, smiling and indicating a cargo hold with a thumb. "Have you seen them, Sleet? They're like SWATbots, but they can really talk to you!"
"A mistake that Lord Robotnik seems to have completely overlooked." Sleet muttered to himself. Raising his voice, he said: "For the benefit of your lacking education, Christmas is a time when friends and family guilt each other into buying gifts for each other, which they then inevitably hate but must pretend to enjoy."
"Oh." Dingo paused. "Erm, that's not how the troopers made it sound at all…"
"Oh, really?" Sleet asked, his voice dripping with scorn. "Why don't you tell me what Christmas is, then?"
"It's a time for friends and family to get together, and show that they care!" Dingo leaned forward with an eager smile.
"You don't have any family, dingus." Sleet responded immediately. "And the closest thing to a friend you have is me, and I couldn't care less about you."
With each word, Dingo drooped a little more, until he was sitting completely slumped over; prevented from falling out of his chair only by his flight harness. "You don't have to put it like that…" He mumbled.
Sleet rolled his eyes, more annoyed at Dingo's reaction than anything else. "Stop talking to the troopers, Dingo. They're trying to put ideas in your head, and they don't realise that they won't fit."
"Yeah, well, maybe I want them to put ideas in my head!" Dingo snapped, straightening up.
"Like what?" Sleet said, lazily rolling the consonants off his tongue.
"Like, is Dingo even my name?!"
Sleet blinked, caught off guard. "What?"
"'cause apparently, a 'Dingo' is what I am." Dingo snarled. "Have you just been calling me that this whole time because you didn't know what my name is?"
"Of course not." Sleet lied, casually. "Dingo the Dingo is a perfectly normal name to have."
Dingo growled, not really believing Sleet, which was a problem Sleet neatly side-stepped by pointing out the front window at a dot on the horizon. "There! That is the village that Lord Robotnik wants us to crush for him."
Dingo sighed, drooping forwards again. "You remember when we used to be bounty hunters?"
"Oh, don't worry." Sleet said, eyes focused. "I will be making sure we are very well paid for this."
"Does the new Robotnik even use money?" Dingo wondered, scratching his head.
Sleet froze, his brain seizing up.
Come to think of it… this Robotnik didn't have aristocrats he was pretending to care about, so what would he need money for…?
No. No! That was too horrifying a thought to entertain!
Besides, Dingo had thought it up, so it must be wrong.
"We have enough Troopers to hold the village," Sleet said, doing his absolute best to forget that Dingo had said anything "so the main difficulty will be dealing with these… 'wispon' things. We must assume they will have access to them soon if they do not already. Fortunately, I have a clever plan to deal with them."
"Does it involve turning me into something and then dropping me on the village?" Dingo said, his voice tired.
Sleet hand froze, already halfway into the pocket where he kept the remote control that controlled Dingo's shape-shifting.
"So what if it does?" Sleet demanded. "It is a good plan! It works flawlessly for us, all the time!"
"Er, it does?" Dingo asked, sounding genuinely puzzled. "I thought it usually ended up with us getting beaten up and Sonia calling me a bunch of really mean names."
"Enough with your stupid crush, you idiotic –!"
Sleet turned away from the controls to properly shout at Dingo; which was a bad time to do so, because that was when the local birds started blasting away at their hovership with wispons.
Griff the Goat was not having a good day.
Lower Mobius didn't exactly get a lot of news from the surface world, so they tended to find things out a fair bit after everyone else. A fair trade, they had thought, for not getting caught and roboticized.
Of course, then everybody started glitching, and their caverns were suddenly invaded by cyborgs, and not knowing what was going on on the surface abruptly seemed like a real problem.
"Alright you mites!" The Foreman was a strange creature. He had a nose nearly as large as the rest of his head, giant buck teeth, a steam shovel in place of his left arm, no hair or fur whatsoever, and a gut so huge he looked like if you pushed him over, he'd bounce and roll. Unlike Griff, who didn't really bother with clothing, the Foreman was dressed in suspenders, a yellow tie and a red cape. "Listen up! Everything you own now belongs to the Dark Egg Legion! I want all your valuables at my feet pronto!"
Even though he was hidden away in a side passage, Griff still felt guilty about glancing up at the massive Energy Crystal hanging from the ceiling. There was no way the 'Dark Egg Legion' – whoever they were – could possibly miss it, but if nobody drew attention to it, maybe they'd think it was just a fancy lighting ornament and not their source of lighting and power.
Sonic had given him half of Knothole's Power Stone to keep that crystal alive. He couldn't betray his kindness by letting these goons take it.
Speaking of Sonic… Griff could have really used his help about now. Lower Mobius only had about 30 inhabitants, most of them goats, and the 'Dark Egg Legion' had them outnumbered. They were armed, and the Lower Mobius inhabitants weren't.
Griff grit his teeth. Was there anything he could do, other than make a break for the surface and try and get help?
As he turned, he stubbed his toe on an unexpected obstacle in the dark. Flinching violently, and biting back a pained shout, Griff instead clenched his teeth and looked down.
Lying on the tunnel floor in front of him was a pickax with a red ribbon tied around the handle. What was this doing here? Who put this here?
Well, it wasn't like it really… hang on. As Griff's eyes finished adjusting to the dim light, he thought he could see a crack in the tunnel wall beside him. His ears twitched as he heard voices on the other side.
Was that more of the strange creatures – Nerbs? – that had invaded his home? It didn't sound like them… but probably best not to risk it. Griff shook his head and turned to continue his way down the tunnel again.
…and stopped, staring directly into one of the hunched hooded figures that made up that Egg Legion thing, standing at the end of the tunnel he wanted to go down.
"Hey, you!" The figure squeaked loudly.
Griff frantically turned around to flee, only to freeze as more members of the Dark Egg Legion ran over to cut off his escape from the other end of the tunnel as well. Frantically looking around for a way out, his eyes naturally fell on the pickax.
"Don't move!"
Griff moved.
Lunging forwards into a roll, he scooped up the pickax and leapt to his feet, frantically swinging away into the crack in the tunnel wall. The Dark Egg Legionaries, not ready to shoot him quite yet, rushed forwards to physically jump him…
The wall suddenly gave way with a sharp crack and the pounding of rubble, as the stone split under Griff's frantic strikes. Light shone through the new hole, as a new, separate cavern was exposed.
Griff rushed forwards as the Dark Egg Legionaries closed in… and then skidded to a halt.
Before him was a cavern filled with round, green creatures that sort-of resembled frogs? But more… primordial.
Griff blinked stupidly at the crowd of not-frogs, lit by flickering torchlight, wearing loincloths, and wielding spears.
The not-frogs, too, stared back at him.
But they also looked behind him, at the Dark Egg Legionaries that were angrily pointing and squeaking at the newly exposed cavern.
As one, the crowd of not-frogs lifted both hands up and screamed loudly.
Griff panicked, falling backwards onto his butt. He screamed back in the high-pitched way that only goats could really manage.
One of the not-frogs in front stopped screaming in order to gasp dramatically. "Froglodytes! He has invoked the sacred scream! Quickly, to his aid!"
The Dark Egg Legionaries started to heft their blaster rifles up, but were quickly bum-rushed by spear-wielding Froglodytes screaming their lungs out.
Lindsey had never hated Jason's guts more than she did right now.
"'Just act normal, Lindsey.'" She muttered to herself, blowing a tuft of bright red hair out of her face. "'Scout the place out for valuables, Lindsey.' 'I'm the brains of this outfit, Lindsey.' 'You'll be fine, Lindsey.' Punk. Like he knows anything about how this goes."
After their last botched job trying to rob that bank, she and he had been screwed six ways to Sunday. Between that blue mutant spiky kid and the feds outside, and the Robotnik drones suddenly abandoning them, it'd looked like she'd be wearing prison stripes for a good long while.
Luckily, whatever crazy thing had happened to the world had caused their transport to crash, and the pair had made a break for it.
What a freaking mess. Lindsey had never bought into the 'the world is a simulation' conspiracy theory, but with the world literally glitching around her…
Whatever. Either she was real or she wasn't. No point worrying about it either way.
As if summoned by her thoughts, a glitching fit spasmed its way though her body, causing her to stumble on her next step and swear loudly.
"Huh? Oh, are you okay?"
Lindsey forced a smile onto her face as a thing ran up to her. Its head was covered in red feathers, but it had a giant crest that reminded her of a parrot.
It looked way too much like that mutant creature that had ruined their last job – that speedy little annoyance who seemed to think he was a superhero. But then, that wasn't exactly a surprise. The world was littered with the things at the moment.
"I'm fine." She lied. "Just… the glitching, you know?"
The parrot-thing nodded frantically. "Oh yes, oh yes! Isn't it just terrible? Quickly, come in!"
Lindsey bit back a grimace, but followed the creature inside. (It had a masculine voice, but who knows what that actually meant for an alien.)
She and Jason had stolen some laundry from some mansion on the way over here, so she was wearing stylish clothes instead of prison stripes. Hilariously, the tag on the dress she was wearing said that this dress belonged to another woman named Lindsey.
"I'm Updraft, by the way." Her guide introduced herself. "Updraft the Cockatoo."
"Lindsey Thorndyke." Lindsey lied. (She'd used enough fake names to know that being able to instinctively respond to them was crucial, and the fates had just dropped this one in her lap.)
"Come in, sit down!" Updraft led her into a small kitchenette off to the side of the massive warehouse. Dozens of other animal-people-things (she'd heard the word 'Mobian' tossed around, but half the animal people didn't seem to know it) were milling around, shifting crates around and doing general busywork.
"Everything's kind of a mess now, so we're not as organised as we'd normally be." Updraft apologised, searching in the cupboards above the sink. "Eggman's peddling some gadget he says will fix the glitching, but we all know not to trust him as far as we can throw him. There's apparently some kind of permanent fix in the works, but for now we – the Restoration – are just trying to keep track of who's glitching and where they are."
Lindsey made a vague noise of acknowledgement, only half paying attention. Out of the corner of her eye, she was looking at the pile of raygun-looking things stacked in a corner of the room.
"Cocoa?" Updraft offered, dragging Lindsey's full attention back. The bird-creature offered her a cup of steaming black liquid.
Lindsey looked at the cup dubiously. "Is that safe for humans to drink?"
Updraft blinked. "Uh… I think so? It's just normal cocoa… wait, humans are lactose tolerant, right? Uh…"
Lindsey frowned, but took the cup. Blowing on it to clear out the steam, she took a tiny tip. It tasted like normal cocoa…
"Anyway, I just need to know where you're staying, so that we can get you fixed up once we've gotten an handle on things."
There was no way Lindsey was telling anyone official where she and Jason were crashing – let alone an alien official. She rattled off a fake address, which Updraft quickly jotted down on a list pinned to the fridge.
Satisfied that she'd scoped out where all the best things to steal in the warehouse were, Lindsey stood up. "Thanks for the cocoa, but I better be going…"
"So soon?" Updraft pouted. "Alright."
Lindsey turned around, the door in her sight…
"Do you want a wispon before you go, though?"
Lindsey froze. "I'm sorry?"
"A wispon!" Updraft walked over to the pile of raygun things and pulled out one that looked like an indigo orb with a yellow ring around it. "We've got a surplus, and with all the badniks around, we need as many people who can help fight as possible. Besides, it is Christmas!"
They were just… giving her a raygun. Just like that.
"There you go!" Updraft pressed the wispon into Lindsey's hands. "You take care out there, alright?"
This… this was perfect.
Lindsey fought back a smirk. With a real weapon, they could hold up gas stations, banks… they were planning to come back and rob this place later, but now…!
"And little Indigo there has been so lonely." Updraft added. "So you take good care of her, okay?"
Lindsey suddenly paused. "Sorry, what?"
A floating indigo ball with an eye phased out of the side of the weapon, chirped, and rubbed itself against the side of her head.
Lindsey shrieked in panic and fell backwards onto the floor, causing the wisp to somehow make a pout with nothing but a single eyeball to emote with and Updraft to let out a nervous laugh.
Princess Elise the Third of Soleanna tried to keep her smile up, but it was a strain.
"Your highness, the treasury cannot support half the measures you are proposing!" Soleanna's finance minister was a short, slim human woman who despite all that somehow had the deepest voice Elise had ever heard.
"It'll only be for a little while –" Elise tried to defend herself.
"And how long will that be? Days? Months?" The finance minister asked sharply. "Princess, this is a global problem. We don't have the resources to save the whole world."
Elise frowned. "We don't have to save the world." She reminded the finance minister. "We just have to help who we can."
"Well, who we can is apparently a good deal less than you think, princess." The finance minister said, exasperated. "Maybe if we cut back on what we're giving to the Restoration –"
"I was hoping to increase that, actually." Elise added quickly.
The finance minister threw her hands up into the air.
"Please, Agatha." Elise turned around, her hands clasped together and her eyes pleading. "It's Christmas!"
Elise realised this was a mistake the instant her minister's eyes narrowed. Soleanna's winter festival was a little different from most places'. As the god of the sun, winter was seen as the time of Solaris's death. However, as the god of time, winter was simultaneously and paradoxically the moment before Solaris's birth. So it was a sombre time, with celebrations only permitted after the solstice had passed.
"You've been spending too much time reading that foreign nonsense, princess." The finance minister said, stiffly. "Aiding refugees is all well and good, and advocating for calm is admirable; but Soleanna almost didn't survive the War to Take Back the Planet! If you announce these measures – especially in the name of Christmas –" the finance minister spat "– the people will think that you've abandoned Lord Solar–!"
The minister's tongue-lashing was interrupted by a sudden glitching fit.
Elise winced, and then reached out a hand for the minister. A yellow aura of light shone around the two of them, banishing the shifting colours away from the minister to the edges of the energy field.
"I…" the minister swayed on her feet, and Elise leaned forwards to grip her shoulders and steady her. "My apologies, princess, but what was I talking about just now…?"
The shifting colours finally dissipated, and Elise let the protective barrier fade, released the minister and took a step back.
"You were saying how we almost didn't survive the War to Take Back the Planet?" Elise reminded her gently.
The minister blinked, slowly. "The… what, sorry? Is… is that what the war against the Dark Egg Legion is called, now?"
Elise bit her bottom lip. "I… not quite."
The finance minister smiled up at Elise. "I'm sorry for doubting, princess. The royal family have always been blessed by Solaris, and his favour has never been clearer than it is now."
Elise looked away for a moment.
She knew full well that Solaris had nothing to do with her power.
A dead god could bless no one, after all.
The finance minister sighed. "The entire kingdom is under strain, your highness. Even without this most recent disaster, there's the reconstruction events, and your father's ill health –"
She flinched, glancing up at Elise with a guilty expression.
But Elise didn't shout, or even scowl. She just sighed.
"It's alright, Agatha." Elise said. "My father never really recovered from the failure of the Solaris Project." Having the god you were trying to harness be quietly snuffed out in the middle of the night would do that. "I… know, better than most, how lucky I am for the time with him that I've had."
The finance minister looked up at Elise with pitying eyes, and then let out her own sigh.
"Maybe," she relented "if we took out some key loans…"
Elise's smile, this time, was real.
"No! No! Noooooo!" Thunderbolt the Chinchilla stomped her tiny feet. "Absolutely not!"
"Aw, come on boss!" One of her underlings protested, crouching down to look his boss in the eyes. "It's Christmas!"
"Do you think Lord Eggman cares?!" Thunderbolt squeaked angrily, hopping from one foot to the other in rage. "Do you think he will accept a party as a reason to delay carrying out his orders?!"
The underling pouted. "I'm pretty sure he's having his own party…"
"That's because he deserves it, due to being such a brilliant and glorious overlord!" The fury in Thunderbolt's eyes slowly started to devolve into a star-struck look of worship. She clasped her hands together in excitement. "You lowly cretins disgust him by your mere existence! Only through hard work and sacrifice can we hope to impress him!"
A snort from the other side of the room rudely broke Thunderbolt out of her revere.
"Like anything could make Eggman happy." Came a new, grumpy voice from the other end of the room. Drago Wolf was one of two grandmasters of the Soumerca Dark Egg Legion, and so had been lumped in with Thunderbolt's Soumerca Egg Army.
He was also, in Thunderbolt's opinion, punishment from Eggman. She wasn't sure what she'd done to deserve being assigned this idiot, but whatever it was she'd have to grovel twice as hard next time to try and make amends for it.
"Come on, boss!" The Egg Army minion appealed to Thunderbolt, trying to ignore Drago. "All the Freedom Fighter groups will be celebrating too –"
"That's all the more reason to attack them now, idiot!" Thunderbolt grabbed her minion's collar and shook him roughly (or at least, as much as she could, given she was about half his size).
Drago snorted. "Like an attack from you would amount to much anyway."
Thunderbolt froze, and the Egg Army minion's eyes went wide with panic.
"What was that?" Thunderbolt said, her voice surprisingly calm.
Drago smirked down at Thunderbolt. "You heard me. Soumerca deserves a better leader than you. I'll take over from here, fuzz-ball."
Thunderbolt smiled up at the grandmaster, who due to being much taller than the average Mobian, was about three to four times her size. "Come down here for a moment?" She asked, sweetly.
Obligingly, Drago crouched down. His massive teeth were bared by his wide smirk, and both of his cybernetic arms lay around Thunderbolt, claws ready to tear into her. "Aww, is the little fuzz-ball going to –"
The Egg Army minion shielded his eyes with a hand and looked away.
Thunderbolt reached outwards, putting her hands on Drago's metal arms. Her eyes glowed with sparks, and Drago had about half a second to realise what a terrible mistake he'd just made.
The massive burst of lightning was so bright that it could be seen from outside the room, and so loud that members of the Egg Army and Dark Egg Legion passing by the room dropped whatever they were carrying to jump in fright.
"Right." Thunderbolt said calmly, dusting her hands off and turning her back on the charred body of Drago, who was still twitching. "Ensure my battle suit is ready." She commanded cheerfully, hopping and skipping her way out of the room. "We attack in four hours."
The Egg Army minion could only let out a dejected "Yes ma'am." as he watched Thunderbolt go.
Behind him, Drago coughed, a cloud of soot erupting from his mouth.
Little John was worried about his friends.
He didn't normally worry about things. But he hadn't seen Tania, Nicky or Amy in a while, and none of the grown-ups seemed to know what was happening either.
Finding a bag of potato chips in a pocket, he tore it open and started munching on it. Oh! Barbecue flavour, his favourite.
Nicky's dad always said that he should stop eating so much junk food or else he'd grow up to be like him, but that didn't make any sense. Nicky's dad was awesome, why wouldn't he want to grow up to be like him?
Little John sighed, scratching his belly. His t-shirt and pants couldn't meet in the middle due to the bulge of his huge gut, but that didn't bother him, really. It was just the price he paid for getting to eat yummy things all the time.
Anyway, yeah, his friends. Nicky's dad had flown off somewhere, so Little John figured he must be looking for Nicky elsewhere; but Little John had never seen Amy's granddad look so worried, even right before Amy's grandma had…
…
Little John could only remember one time when he had been that kind of worried, and that was when they were being attacked by the Caramel Toy Kingdom and Nicky had fallen into the ocean. Even Anton had been worried (though Little John was pretty sure that was more because he was worried about getting in trouble than because he cared about Nicky).
Lost in his thoughts, Little John put his hand in his chip packet, only to realise it was empty. Pouting, he got up and walked outside.
Hedgehog Town looked really different now – there were all these other buildings mushed in. They looked fun, though! They looked like they were from a tropical resort somewhere, it was really neat!
The main street was done up for Christmas, all lit up in flashing lights and red banners. Food stalls lined the road, scrumptious scents that made Little John's mouth water and his tummy rumble.
His hands reached up, seeking a stall selling candy apples… then drooped.
Aw… he couldn't think about food at a time like this! …mostly! There had to be something he could do…
Sulking his way down the street, he walked past a Christmas tree, and a pair of odd Nutcracker-looking dolls standing underneath it.
…
Little John, blinked, stopped, and backed up to the tree again. The two figures were still there, standing under the tree. He looked left and right, making sure no grown-ups were watching.
"Uh… Mr and Misses Prince and Princess of the Caramel Toy Kingdom?" Little John asked the two figures, confused.
The male figure leaned forwards slightly.
"Oh, uh, Mr and Misses King and Queen! Um, congratulations!"
The male figure leaned back again.
"Uh…" Little John scratched his head. He didn't actually know that much about the Caramel Toy Kingdom, aside from their total dominance over toys and candy. He'd only seen them that one time before – Sonic had stopped an evil witch who'd been controlling them. She'd planned to use the prince and princess's power to force all the grown-ups in the world to do her evil bidding by threatening their kids' access to sugar. The fiend! "What's up?"
The female figure leaned forwards this time.
"Oh… that bad, huh?" Little John dropped. "Well… I-I'm sure things will get better!"
The two figures turned very slightly towards each other, like they were sharing a glance.
"Huh?" Little John blinked. "Uh, sure I can help! I just… I'm trying to find out where my friends are, and…"
The two figures both leaned forwards this time.
"T-they are? They're alright?!" Little John beamed. "Thank you thank you thank you! Sure, I'll help!"
Lightmare (who, despite her name, was actually a pig) regretted many things about her life.
Chiefly, she regretted not being able to talk her father, Lord Sidewinder, out of his idiotic desire to be a supervillain. (For crying out loud, they were already wealthy, and it's not like Meridian wasn't already crowded with supervillains failing to make names for themselves…) Unable to leave him to his fate, she'd picked up enough magic to make herself useful, and and tried to keep him from getting himself killed.
Of course, then her idiot father decided to shoot for the moon – the moon in this case being Super Sonic.
More than once.
Lightmare never had the chance to meet her mother, but she had to assume that she was the brains of the pair.
"Gentlemen!" Sidewinder clapped his hands together and rubbed them, immediately causing Lightmare's heart to sink. "Our string of ill-fortune is soon to break! I have devised a brilliant plan that cannot fail!"
Lightmare pressed a hand to the front of her mask.
His last five plans had been "brilliant plans that could not fail".
"Uh…" The team's main brawler, Bio-Hazard, was completely lost. "We goin' after Super Sonic again, boss?"
"Sadly, no." Sidewinder sighed with what sounded far too much like actual regret. "From what my sources tell me –"
Those sources being 'whatever Lightmare can extract from the Box of Nightmares' and 'those fancy gizmos we stole from S.C.A.R. Labs last week'.
"– Super Sonic has been merged back into normal Sonic. Our opportunities to nab him have become far more limited." Sidewinder scratched his chin.
Proctor Speckle, their green-skinned alchemist, let out a cry in the background, a glitching fit sending his outline shooting out almost all the way to the ceiling.
Lightmare grimaced under her mask, but didn't move to help. Her magic was geared towards causing torment, not easing it.
Sidewinder had the decency to wait for Speckle to stop glitching before he continued, but no more than that. "No, this time we will have the chance to obtain power nearly as grand – from a force that we will have no better opportunity to obtain than tonight!"
Bio-Hazard andSpeckle made noises of interest, but Lightmare just narrowed her eyes under her mask. Smaller goals were better, but…
"A force which controls unparalleled manufacturing capacity! Surveillance abilities that others can only dream of! And, most crucially, the ability to visit every house in the world in a single night!"
Lightmare dropped her face into her hands and quietly groaned. Bio-HazardandSpeckle, who hadn't cottoned on yet, still looked confused.
"How're we gonna get that kinda power, boss?" Bio-Hazard asked cluelessly.
Sidewinder smirked. "Gentlemen! My genius has devised a trap for no less than… Father Christmas himself!"
For a moment, Lightmare considered trying to explain to her father that Father Christmas was under far more powerful protections than she could conceivably break, and how as a creature of magic technology was very ill-suited to containing him…
…but he wouldn't listen, and honestly this was far safer than the absurd goals he normally set for himself. So she just nodded. "Excellent idea, Lord Sidewinder."
Maybe in the new year she'd be able to get him to swear off chasing Super Sonic, but she wouldn't hold her breath.
Wade Whipple should not have been made a sheriff.
And that wasn't just the impostor syndrome talking! …well, like, not completely anyway.
But really, everybody knew that he'd only gotten the position because of Tom. Without Tom, he didn't know what he'd do in a crisis.
A crisis like, oh, about now.
"Sir Wade, your people seem unquiet."
Sir Percival kinda freaked Wade out. The dude wore black chain-mail all over his body, with a vest and pants thrown over the top. (He even had a 'hood' of chain-mail – how did his hair not get pinched all the time?!) And, of course, the dude had a sword.
And Wade was pretty sure he used it.
Which was, admittedly, really cool. Just also, you know, scary.
"Eh heh heh…" Wade rubbed the back of his head. "Yeah, well… you're being really nice by bringing us tents and food and stuff, but… some of the guys just want a flush toilet and somewhere to charge their phones."
Sir Percival blinked slowly. "Aye… I fear fair Camelot lacks many of the wonders of the world from which you come, Sir Wade."
"You can just call me Wade, really." Wade quickly interjected, nervously. "I'm not really a 'sir'."
Sir Percival frowned. "You are these people's protector, are you not?"
"Er…" Wade glanced back at the camp. Crazy Carl was busy arguing with a talking woodchuck about the best way to fell a tree. The castle in the background, the knight standing in front of him, and all the talking animals (they had to have come from the same place as Sonic, right?) was reminding Wade of those Narnia books he'd loved as a kid. "Only because Tom isn't here…"
"Ah. Sadly, duty asks not if we feel ready. It simply tests us nonetheless." Sir Percival nodded solemnly. "These people need you – you have no choice but to rise to the challenge."
Wade gave a start. "R-really? You think I'm worth giving a cool motivational speech to?!"
"I sense you do not receive praise often." Sir Percival said drily.
Wade rubbed the back of his head. "Sorry, sorry. Just… I really think somebody better than me should be here. Not just some sheriff…"
"A shire reeve is exactly what these people need right now." Sir Percival noted. "They have no enemies to be defeated save for the emptiness of their bellies and the coldness of the night."
For a moment, neither spoke.
Then, Wade quietly said "Uh, what?"
Sir Percival sighed. "Kindly ensure they are warm and fed. 'tis the season of generosity, but even so the nights will not warm themselves."
"Oh, right." Wade nodded quickly. "I can do that!"
He strode confidently towards the unlit fire, large roughly-cut tree branches and kindling piled high. "I was in the boy scouts, you know!" Wade smiled, picking up two rocks. "I earned a badge and everything!"
Sir Percival stared on in confusion as Wade bashed the two ordinary rocks together, as though expecting something to happen.
"Er… gimme a second!" Wade called. "Sometimes it takes a…" He grunted, bashing the rocks together several times.
Sir Percival stared for a moment more, but as Wade's failures continued he sighed and drew his sword.
Wade made a double-take upon seeing the naked steel, throwing himself back with a cry of freight. "Ack! Wait wait wait, can't we talk about –"
Sir Percival reversed their grip on their sword (whose name was Laevatein), and plunged the blade into the soft earth within the fire pit. A wave of flames erupted from the impaled blade, sweeping over the kindling and setting it alight.
As Wade stared, Sir Percival nodded at her work. "That shall do for now. In future, I shall seek to procure for you a flint and steel."
She spun around and walked away, causing Wade to stare in abject confusion at the lavender cat in half-plate who'd suddenly taken Sir Percival's place.
Jerome Wise wasn't quite sure how this was all Sonic's fault yet, but he was sure it must be.
Everything was always Sonic's fault.
Take his current situation, for example. He was currently clustered around a bin fire with a couple other homeless people, trying to warm himself up before he'd have to find somewhere safe to sleep tonight.
He'd once been aide to the president! He'd had his own aspirations to take the highest office in the land! He'd arranged photo ops, races, massive publicity stunts!
So he'd asked Eggman for a favour one time! Was that justification to call him an "idiot", "terrorist collaborator", and "get out of my office before I have you arrested"?! It was unjust! It was un-American!
…
His buddies at S.O.N.I.C.X. were supposed to have picked him up days ago. But with the whole "world disaster" thing (doubtlessly also Sonic's fault), they must have… lost track of where he was. Yes. They wouldn't just forget about him, no! He was the very soul of the group!
…
And they had all of the money, was the other problem.
So back to the bin fire it was.
For crying out loud, it was Christmas. Wasn't this supposed to be a time of generosity? Was there really nobody out there willing to throw a guy a break?
"H-help!"
Jerome looked up, as did the other homeless guys. Some dumb kid had been climbing on the fire escapes overhead and had somehow ended up dangling from the railing, his feet kicking out over empty space.
Jerome's eyes went wide. Was… was this…?
Was this an opportunity?!
Yes! He could see it now! The headlines on tomorrow's front pages: "Disgraced aide hero after all!". He could clean up his image! Go on talk shows! Get paid! Get a shower!
This was his ticket back into the big times!
With a confident step, Jerome marched forwards to underneath where the kid was… and blinked as he was no longer there. "Eh?"
One of the other homeless guys snorted. "You were just standing there, staring into space with sparkles in your eyes, so Mike rescued the kid instead."
Jerome turned around, slowly. Mike – another of the guys who'd be sharing the bin-fire – was currently putting his coat around the shivering kid, rubbing his back and generally trying to calm the kid down. A camera flashed in the darkness from somewhere, and Jerome knew in his bones that Mike was going to appear on tomorrow's front pages.
Jerome raised his fist to the sky and screamed "Soooooonnnnniiiiiccc! This is all your faaauuuulllttt!"
People often confused Rob o' the Hedge for Sonic, but really all the two shared were their species, general colouration, and inability to stand by while others were in trouble.
Aside from that, though, they were completely unrelated – well, that would change if his cousin Amy had anything to say about it; but they weren't related by blood, was his point.
So it was annoying, from time to time, to find someone who refused to believe that he was not Sonic in disguise.
"Look, all I'm saying is that you don't have to lie to us." Spike the Porcupine said, ducking under a blaster shot from an Eggrobo.
"After that freaky werehog thing, nothing can really surprise us!" Sonar the Fennec added, pulling a kid behind cover.
"I appreciate your kind words, friends, but I must repeat my insistence: I am not Sonic." Rob said wearily, nocking another arrow into his bow and shooting it into the visor of a Flasher.
These were not ideal conditions to be fighting in. He had not prepared for extended battle, and had only six arrows remaining in his quiver. They were contained within some kind of grand structure called a 'mall', with badniks streaming down from the upper levels to the Freedom Fighters pinned down on the lower levels.
Sonar shot Spike a worried look. "Did he hit his head and lose his memories or something?"
"That would explain the Ye Olde English." Spike winced.
Rob considered, for a moment, explaining that 'Ye Olde' was just how 'The Old' used to be written down and should never be pronounced 'as written', but was reluctantly forced to conceded that he had bigger issues. "We cannot remain here, or else we face an ignoble end!" He shouted, indicating the badniks all around them.
They were currently crouching behind some benches and decorative plants, sheltering with a few innocent bystanders caught up in the attack.
"Okay," Spike brightened up "you can clear the way out with a Spin Dash!"
"My tongue doth ache from repeating itself, but once more…" Rob grit his teeth.
He dashed out from cover, three arrows nocked at once. He pulled and released, sending three arrows into the heads of three different badniks. Two of them stumbled into each other and exploded, while the third toppled off the balcony and into the Christmas tree below.
A fourth arrow followed the first three, a rope tied around its shaft. That arrow shot through the railing of the upper floor, wedging itself tightly as the weight of the rope pulled it back down. Their escape was secured!
"I am not Sonic the Hedgehog." Rob stated clearly, flicking a piece of badnik shrapnel off of the hood of his grey cloak. "I am Rob o' the Hedge, defender of Deerwood Forest! If thou wish to follow me, be prepared for grand adventure!"
With a mighty crash, Trevor Burrow (the third member of Spike and Sonar's trio), burst through the wall like some living jug of flavoured water, rendering the rope completely pointless. Despite being a mole (and thus quite blind), Trevor squinted at Rob.
"Why's Sonic got a bow and arrow?" He said.
People sometimes asked Dave the Intern why he wanted to become a supervillain. To wreck havoc upon the world, to crush their populations underfoot and hear the lamentations of their women.
(Or their men. Or anybody else honestly, Dave wasn't picky. He just wanted to hear lamenting.)
Why?
"Your order, ma'am." Dave said in a high-pitched, nasal voice completely devoid of emotion or effort.
Lady Walrus glared at him. "I ordered no pickles!"
Because he worked in retail.
Obviously.
"Sorry…" Dave mumbled around his massive buck teeth, completely unenthusiastically. He picked up the top bun and flicked the pickles off, before putting the bun back on and presenting it back to Lady Walrus.
Said customer looked at him in disgust, but took her food and walked off.
Man. If she thought that was unhygienic, wait until she finds out that he forgot to cook the patty!
"Psst."
Dave glanced behind him. "Duuudee… nobody's going to buy there being a tree behind the counter at Meh Burger."
The wolf in a tree costume standing behind him smirked. "Ah, but nobody would expect the tree behind the counter to be a spy, would they?"
Dave thought about that for a second. "I guess?" He shrugged.
"Anyway, dude." The tree spy rubbed his hands together gleefully. "You ready to ruin Christmas?"
Dave blinked. "Like, why are we ruining Christmas?"
"The Lightning Bolt Society is still a group of small-time crooks." The tree spy said, still rubbing his hands together. "This is our ticket to big-time villainy! You know what they say: you're not a real villain until you've ruined Christmas!"
"I dunno about picking a fight with Santa though…" Dave shook his head. "Those reindeer have to be pretty jacked if they're pulling a sleigh all over the world in one night, get what I'm saying?"
The tree spy's hand-rubbing was getting faster and faster. "That's why we won't do that! We'll throw eggs at everyone's houses instead, and the smell will force Santa away!"
Dave stared at his compatriot in minor villainy. "Like dude, Halloween was two months ago."
"Exactly!" The tree spy's hands were starting to give off smoke. "And given that we completely forgot to do anything then, those eggs will be really ripe by now!"
Dave stared at the tree-spy for a long moment. Then he smiled, and threw both fists up in the air. "Woo! I love it! I can't see any way this could possibly end in a humiliating defeat for us!"
"That's the spirit!" The tree spy cheered, and then let out a cry of panic as his gloves burst into flames.
Perci the Bandicoot leaned out from behind the tree she was decorating. "Staci, could you pass me the tinsel, please?"
Staci and Perci were identical twins, frequently mistaken for each other. The pair of them leaned into this with identical outfits – dark purple sleeveless crop-tops that contrasted nicely with their lavender fur, tool-belts over jeans, and big fur boots; their hair tied back with a red scarf. They always found it hilarious when people couldn't tell them apart.
"Here you go!" Staci picked up the shinny, glimmering decoration from inside the box on the ground and passed it to her sister.
All around the town square, trees were being set up, wreaths were being hung and royalty-free carols were being sung. The mayor was trying to hurriedly memorise a speech off in the corner, hoping nobody would notice, and Zooey the Fox was humming to herself as she neatly arranged statuettes of Santa's reindeer on the roof of one of the shops on the main street.
As Perci hung the tinsel on the tree, she asked her sister: "Still no sign of Team Sonic?"
"Nah." Staci shook her head. "Which is weird, right? They should be knee deep some kind of quirky holiday shenanigans by now."
Perci shrugged. "They're probably wherever Eggman has disappeared to. Who knows? We might actually have a quiet Christmas this year."
Staci laughed. "Yeah, right. Remember last year, when Sticks tried to challenge Santa to a fight?"
"'Come on out, ya crazy old geezer!'" Perci did a reasonable impression of Stick's accent. "'Yer reign of oppressive surveillance ends here! Ain't no elf gonna sit on my shelf! I know yer in cahoots with Big Toys!'"
Staci giggled.
"You know, it's rude to make fun of other people." A new voice admonished.
Perci stuck her head out from around the tree again and blinked. The newcomer was a hedgehog woman with light blue spines and bright red lipstick. A long wavy bang covered one eye, and each of her ears had a large pearl-like earring.
"Sorry…" Staci sighed.
Perci grimaced. Okay, so maybe making fun of Sticks was a bit mean… she'd come a long way from the feral badger that Amy had found living all by herself in the jungle. Even if in the process of returning to civilisation, she had somehow managed to fall down every conspiracy theory rabbit hole at once.
"I'm Staci, and this is my sister Perci." Staci introduced herself. "Nice to meet you, miss…?"
"Wing." Miss Wing shook Staci's hand. "I'm the teacher down at the primary school."
Ah, yes. The primary school that Hedgehog Village didn't used to have. Whatever was going on, Staci was sure that Sonic and his friends would be in the middle of it one way or another, but in the meantime it was causing more than a few headaches for everyone else trying to sort it out.
As if summoned by her frustrations, Perci had to grit her teeth as a glitching fit hit her right as she was about to step out from behind the tree.
"Well, as long as you're sorry." Miss Wing said with a big, encouraging smile.
"So… how does Christmas normally go for you?" Perci asked, finally extricating herself from behind the tree.
Miss Wing put a finger on her cheek as she considered the question. "Well… last year, the school's Christmas party was attacked by Eggman…"
Perci and Staci blinked in unison.
"What did he do?" Staci asked. "Show up with a giant vacuum cleaner and suck everyone's presents up?"
Miss Wing covered her mouth with a hand and giggled. "Close – he had a giant vacuum-powered sack that he used to suck up everyone at the party. When Sonic showed up to stop him, he had a giant reindeer-bot with a giant, red-hot nose… for burning people with."
Staci rolled her eyes. "Ugh. Typical Eggman."
"Yes, well." Miss Wing sighed. "Hopefully he doesn't try something like that this year. I know Sonic loves to appear out of nowhere, but I'm sure he has his hands full at the moment."
"No worries!" Perci smiled, putting an arm around Staci's shoulders. "We'll keep you safe. Our family have been guardians of this village for generations!"
Staci blinked. "Uh, we have?"
Thrash the Tasmanian Devil didn't actually know where he'd banished most of the echidna race to. That was on purpose – that way, Knuckles couldn't force him to spill where they were and go rescue them. He'd just willed the Warp Ring to take them 'somewhere they wouldn't be coming back from'.
Wherever that was, Thrash really hoped they were having a worse time than him.
Trouble was, that was a bit of an ask.
"He he he he he!" The nut-job in a hovercraft chased after him, cackling like a loon. "A new toy, a new toy! Come, let's see how much fun we can have before you break."
This guy was the ugliest human – Overlander, whatever – Thrash had ever seen, and he'd seen pictures of the original Robotnik. Broad shoulders, giant thick-rimmed glasses, a lab coat, and a bright pick face with an enormous overbite.
Thrash turned his purple-furred head and screamed at him, the sonic shock-waves blasting out like a cone of force. With a sound like 'Whop whop whop whop!', the human in the hovercraft swerved out of the way.
Thrash really regretted missing with his earlier shots. Now the blasted human was learning.
"A valiant effort, cretin!" The lunatic continued to fly after Thrash as he ran. "But no match for Doctor Warpnik!"
"Doctor who?" Thrash snarled. "You some loony cousin of Robotnik's or something?"
Warpnik flew up alongside Thrash and gave a deranged smile. "Yes!"
Oh.
Fantastic.
Thrash screamed again, this time the force clipping the edge of Warpnik's hovercraft and sending it spinning away into the nearest cloud of fish.
Which was the other problem – to escape Knuckles, he'd used his Warp Ring to send himself to 'anywhere but here'. Well, it wasn't where he was, that's for sure; but now his Warp Ring was out of juice and it was here that he didn't want to be. The sky was a psychedelic mix of reds and purples, the 'ground' was comprised of floating objects of abstract shapes, and there were fish flying through the air absolutely everywhere.
Thrash had to get out of here. Back in the Prime Zone, winter would be coming up. His grandma nearly hadn't survived the last one. Without his help…
…
Long ago, for reasons not even they remembered, the echidnas had experimented on his people; trying to turn human-like Mobians into purely animal Mobini. Generation after generation, more and more of his people had been born as nothing more than snarling Devil Dogs.
His mother had tried so, so very hard, trying to have more than one Mobian child. When his sisters had both been born as Devil Dogs, it had killed her. He'd lost his dad shortly after that.
All around him had been the ruins of his people, and the snarls and whines of his sisters. Those who should have been people, but who the echidnas had ensured would never be.
It had been so much easier when the echidnas had all been dead too.
But then they'd come back.
Grannie hadn't been able to speak for a week straight. She'd simply shivered in fear, terrified of what horrible thing the echidnas would wreak upon the world next.
Trash couldn't fix the inevitable death of his people.
But he'd certainly fixed the echindas.
He was going to get out of this place, this… 'warp of confusion'.
He was going to get home.
And he was going to spend one more winter with what little family he had left.
"Oh ho ho ho!" Warpnik reappeared, his hovercraft leaking smoke. "Thought you were rid of me that easily, were you?!"
Even if he had to kill somebody to do it.
Princess Undina's eyes were sparkling as she beheld the underwater city. "Wow!"
Echo the Dolphin, Undina's bodyguard for the time being, was not nearly as enthusiastic. "Princess… I don't recognise this city. And given how it wasn't on any of our maps –"
"That, like, makes it super exciting!" Undina's eyes (and bioluminescent light in her forehead that she'd inherited from her anglerfish mother) shining brightly. "We found a secret city that, like, nobody knew about!"
Echo grimaced. She knew the princess was much smarter than she looked – their recent misadventure with pirates had really rammed that home – but then she talked like a stereotypical valley girl, and it became harder to remember that.
"Come on, come on!" Undina waved Echo forwards. "Let's, like, see what's up!"
They'd left behind the stolen pirate vessel that they'd used to come this far, swimming the rest of the way on foot – or fin, rather. Echo clutched her blaster-bident to her chest. As a guardswoman, she was very risk-adverse – which made her princess's habit of wanting to look at every shiny object that came her way very stressful indeed.
"Hey, look!" Undina smiled. "There's, like, someone there!"
Echo blinked, moving the focus of her eyes away from the various cave entrances that led to the underground, underwater city and towards the fish currently swimming out one of those entrances. Or… wait.
"Is that a hedgehog?" She blurted out before she could stop herself.
Undina hmm'd thoughtfully, seemingly taking the question seriously. "No, I don't think so. See her tail?"
From the waist up, the person swimming towards them was definitely a hedgehog. But from the waist down, she was a fish of some indeterminate species. Like those old stupid human stories about mermaids, only real.
"Hi there!" Undina waved, giving Echo a nasty start.
"Princess…!" She let out a strangled cry, trying to shove her princess's arm back down before they drew attention to themselves…!
Too late. The other fish had spotted them, and had started swimming over…
"Hello! I'm Merna the Merhog!" The other fish greeted, her orange spines contrasting sharply against her yellow scales. "Are you here for the Christmas celebrations?"
"We like, are now!" Undina smiled. "What's shaking?"
"Oh, the whole of Mertopia is! It's amazing! They got this crab conductor in from out of town, and he has this amazing number…"
From behind Merna's back, Echo frantically gestured that they had to go, desperate to break up the bonding session before they got roped into staying.
Undina, naturally, completely ignored her. "Oh, we'd love to see that! Wouldn't we, Echo?"
Echo puffed out her cheeks, her arms now angrily pushed down along her sides. "I'm sure your majesty will remember that we need to be somewhere else right now…!" She said, frustration mixing with desperation.
"'Your majesty'?" Merna gasped. "You're royalty?"
Undina shot Echo a dirty look, but Echo just felt hope instead. Maybe, if she was intimidated by Undina's title…
"Oh, the queen would love to meet you!" Merna beamed. "Come on, I'll introduce you!"
"Oh, uh, sure!" Undina's smile started out uncertain, then brightened into an unconditional one. "Like, totally!"
As the other two swam off, Echo took a moment to look up at the surface in despair, her hands stretched out in front of her as she silently demanded the simple question of why.
Behind his mask, Infinite was snarling as he slammed the door to his locker closed.
Yes. Locker. Back when he'd been the leader of the Eggman Army, he'd had an entire building of rooms and robots with no reason to exist other than his comfort and amusement, and that of his team.
Eggman had had another building for himself, of course, one larger than his – but it had still been far and away more opulence and luxury than the jackal had ever had before in his life.
Now? Now he had a locker and a bunk.
He'd… failed. Been defeated by those he had thought to be far beneath him. So what? Metal Sonic had done that several times – even openly rebelled against his creator! – and yet still held his position of prestige.
He'd conquered the world for Eggman. Devastated G.U.N. for him. Captured Sonic the Hedgehog for him.
But then he'd lost one fight. Against Sonic, Sonic's younger self, and… the irritant. And then…
He hadn't even been fighting with the true Phantom Ruby! Eggman had kept the real Phantom Ruby for himself, gifting him with an artificial replica. Eggman had faced the same opponents he had, with the more powerful original… and lost just as hard.
And yet… and yet…!
…and yet, when Eggman had been reinforcing his original stabilisation machine, the one that used the Phantom Ruby to force calm on a world glitching out of control, there had been a momentary miscalibration. His jackal body, trapped within the true Phantom Ruby, had been forcibly ejected out.
Eggman had peered down at him, sprawled over the ground, and said:
"Oh. It's you."
As though speaking to a piece of trash thought long discarded.
Infinite's clenched fists began to shake with rage.
He had given up everything. Made himself an enemy of the whole world. All to chase a dream of glorious devastation that he thought both he and Eggman had both shared.
…even his team, his friends… had been taken from him by the path he'd chosen.
…
But in the end, the one under the biggest illusion… had been him.
Eggman had never trusted him. Of course he hadn't. It had been obvious, in hindsight. Why else would he create for him a weaker copy of the Ruby that only held power when fed it from machines Eggman controlled? Eggman had created an almighty minion who could be rendered harmless with the press of a button. The only power he'd ever had had been what Eggman had seen fit to let him possess.
His team…
Infinite punched his locker door, feeling a surge of satisfaction in the way his fist dented the metal. Even the pain in his fist felt better than the loathing coursing through his veins.
His team had known that working for Eggman was a bad idea. They'd told him as such, right from the very beginning. Even on the very cusp of the War, they'd pleaded with him to turn away from his path.
And then…
And then Shadow had…
…
Behind his mask, Infinite shut his eyes tight, refusing to acknowledge any hint of moisture.
Tears were a sign of weakness.
And he…
…he wasn't…
…
…
The touch of a glove hand on his arm cause Infinite to freeze.
He froze at the touch of a gloved hand on his.
"It's still not too late." A dead man's voice taunted him.
Infinite's eyes flew open as he spun around, his hands glowing brightly with the last dregs of his once-absolute power…
The room was filled with ghosts. Members of Jackal Squad that had… fallen. Defeated at the hands of…!
"You can still leave." Another dead member of his squad pleaded.
"There's no future for you here, but there's hope in the outside world!"
"Just discard your mask, and…!"
"NO!"
The room became deathly quiet.
"You idiots didn't see!" Infinite slammed his fist into the locker next to his. "You never saw! Without power, what does your life matter? You're quickly forgotten, dust in the wind! But with true power, you can change the world! Leave a mark on it that will never fade…!"
The dead members of Jackal Squad all looked saddened at Infinite's outburst.
"You never wanted to change the world, Infinite." One member said, quietly. "You just wanted to be king of the ashes."
"Well, congratulations." Said another. "Your world is all burned away."
"I hope you're satisfied."
"Because at this rate… ashes are all you'll ever have."
And with those final words, the other members of Jackal Squad all dissolved into red pixels and vanished.
Infinite turned away, his eyes shut tightly again.
Tears were for the weak.
And he was not weak!
In the doorway, the spectral form of Father Christmas sighed deeply, then faded away into nothingness.
Merry Christmas.
Christmas is referenced in a few Sonic continuities (in X, Sonic actually tried to prove Santa didn't exist!), but Santa Claus himself only showed up in Adventures of Sonic the Hedgehog… unless you count Fleetway's Father Christmas, the only character to ever make Robotnik regret his actions. Even if only for a moment.
Santa retired, but then December 24 rolled around and he couldn't find his replacement anywhere, so he had to take up his old job again.
Apologies if some of these don't feel very Christmas-themed… I tried to write 24 POVs over 24 days, and, um… that's a bit faster than I normally write.
Games/IDW – Elise, Infinite
Manga – Little John, Anton
pre-SGW – Rob o' the Hedge (the Desert Raiders are from post-SGW), Thrash the Tasmanian Devil (Warpnik is from AoStH).
Fleetway – Ebony/Pyjamas, Lightmare
AoStH – Da Bears (Farmer Zimmer is from Paramount), Wes Weasly
SatAM – Griff the Goat (The Foreman/Nerbs are from pre-SGW, the Froglodytes are from Boom), Nasty Hyenas (the Gogoba chieftain is also from Boom)
Virgin – Iggy the Mouse, Kevin the Squirrel
Underground – Cyrus the Lion, Sleet + Dingo (the Badnik Troopers are from Fleetway)
X – Cosmo (with Chris), Jerome Wise (former president's aide)
post-SGW – Princess Undina (Merna the Merhog is from AoStH), Thunderbolt (Drago Wolf is from pre-SGW)
Boom – Perci/Staci (Miss Wing is from the manga), Dave the Intern
Paramount – Wade, Lindsey (from the tie-in comics)
(The Nasty Hyenas didn't have a name in the episode they appear in, so I named them after the villains from another classic video game series).
Apologies for Updraft the Cockatoo – they're an OC.
