Sonic POV
I returned to the house around lunchtime, an unexpected craving for a chili dog tugging at my
thoughts. Upon entering, I found everyone seated at the table, their plates of food seemingly
abandoned. Ella had prepared the meal, but there was no real consumption happening—just a
group of individuals lost in their own thoughts. A few pushed vegetables around on their plates,
their minds clearly elsewhere. The atmosphere was thick with grief, and it was obvious that this
wasn't an easy pill for any of us to swallow. But then again, who was I to judge? I wasn't much
better. The difference being, I could escape, even if only for a fleeting moment.
The silence in the room was suffocating. The type of silence that's thick and tangible, pressing
in from all sides, almost as if it might swallow us whole. A mouse wouldn't dare scamper across
the floor; not with the palpable weight of despair hanging in the air. I glanced around the table,
trying to read the room. But there was something else in the air, something more than just
sadness.
Chuck was glaring at his plate with such intensity that I half-expected him to hurl it across the
room. On the other side of the table, Chris's parents sat stiffly, their glares as sharp as daggers,
daring Chuck to speak his mind. They looked older than the last time I'd seen them, worn down
by the events of the past few days. But that wasn't surprising; we all wore the same exhaustion
in different forms.
Still, no one expected what came next. Without warning, Chuck's composure fractured. His
voice, a mixture of frustration and disbelief, broke the stillness.
"NO MATTER HOW HARD I TRY, I CAN'T COME UP WITH ANY OTHER REASONABLE
EXPLANATION!" He tugged at his hair, desperate to force clarity from his racing thoughts.
"Every time I think about it, one conclusion remains. As much as I hope I'm wrong, we have to
face facts. Chris's betrayal is the result of—"
But Chuck's rant was abruptly silenced by Mr. Thorndyke, who slammed his palms onto the
table, his chair scraping violently against the floor as he shot to his feet.
"I WILL NOT ACCEPT ANYTHING AS FACT UNTIL I SEE COLD, HARD EVIDENCE!" he
bellowed, his voice trembling with a mix of anger and denial. "Until then, I refuse to believe that
Chris has anything to do with this."
The room was stunned into silence. It wasn't often that Chuck's voice carried so much weight,
but it was more than just the outburst that unsettled us. It was the raw tension that had exploded
between father and son, an uncomfortable truth hanging between them.
Chuck, his patience finally snapping, retorted bitterly, "What other explanation could there
possibly be? You don't honestly think Sonic and the others would lie about what they saw! If I
didn't know better, I'd think you're hoping Chris is a traitor."
"That's not what I said at all!" Mr. Thorndyke shot back, flustered. "Maybe it's just a trick of the
light, or someone who looks like him! We can't know for sure."
Chuck slammed his chair back as he rose to his feet. "Of course, there must be someone who
looks just like him. Who else could that be? Oh, wait...your son!" He spat the words with a biting
edge.
Wait, what? I thought, momentarily stunned. Did they just suggest that Chris had some kind of
identical twin? That didn't seem possible. If he did, surely Chris would have mentioned it. But
the more I processed Chuck's words, the more I saw Tails' confused expression—he was likely
thinking the same thing. Meanwhile, the others were still processing the outburst, unsure of how
to react. Cream and Cheese seemed frightened by the sudden eruption, and Ella, noticing their
distress, took them upstairs to distract them.
I shook my head, attempting to clear away the wild thoughts that were clouding my mind. Maybe
it's just my imagination…
Chuck, however, wasn't done. He leaned forward, his voice darkening. "Zero Lisiantius is part of
the Space Transaction Organization. Not only that, but he and Chris were once tied for one of
the highest positions in their spy core. Do you honestly think the government could handle him?
They can't even deal with Eggman without my help. And Zero—he's on a whole different level. If
he's back, his first target will be Chris. The only way to neutralize him is—"
"Chuck!" Chris's mother interjected, her voice urgent but steady. "We don't need to scare the
children with things they don't understand."
Chuck paused, his gaze shifting to the floor in realization. He seemed almost horrified by the
intensity of his own words. The room was once again thick with silence, but this time, it carried a
weight that no one could ignore.
"I... I'm going to retire for the night," Chuck muttered, his voice oddly calm in contrast to the
tension in the air. "You all should rest. After everything that's happened, you deserve it."
The room remained still as people mumbled their quiet assent, standing to leave, each person
lost in their own thoughts. The oppressive atmosphere was too much for any of us to bear. It
wasn't even late afternoon, yet no one seemed able to stay any longer.
Unable to endure another moment of this suffocating silence, I fled the house, taking to the
rooftop where I could breathe. The sky was calm, painted in shades of blue with a few clouds
drifting lazily by. It felt like the perfect place to gather my thoughts.
The vastness of the sky, the way it changed from morning to afternoon to night—it was constant,
yet always shifting. It reminded me of a part of me I didn't often consider. The calm provided
clarity, even in moments of uncertainty. The view gave me something to ground myself in.
I thought about the words Chuck had spoken—STN, the Space Transaction Organization, Zero
Lisiantius. There had to be a connection between Chris's involvement with Eggman and these
larger forces at play. Was STN connected to STO? From Chuck's words, it seemed like Zero
had once been a significant player, someone just as well-known as Chris had been across the
dimensions. But that was hard to accept. Could it be that Chris was that important? Was his
history something I'd missed?
I closed my eyes, letting out a long breath. There was no point in wearing myself out. I'd find my
answers when I met Chris. If I could get through to him, if I could understand where his mind
was, maybe the pieces would finally fall into place.
And so, I allowed myself a brief moment of rest, surrendering to sleep as my thoughts faded into
an uneasy slumber.