A/N: I'm really starting to get worried about the state of this site. I'm flooded by commission requests from artists, all written in similar styles. I only get a couple of genuine reviews every blue moon. What's going on with this site now?
Blaze paced the length of her room, her footsteps muffled by the dark, heavy silence that had settled like a shroud. It was the dead of night, and sleep should have claimed her hours ago, but something kept her awake, something gnawing at the edge of her consciousness. Her face was drawn tight in concentration, eyes flickering with an unspoken dread.
'Something's wrong. Why can't I shake this feeling?'
She sensed a shift in the air leading up to the Showcase—a subtle, almost imperceptible tension—but nothing had come of it except for a few whispers she could easily dismiss. But now, in the days following the festival, that tension had thickened, curdling into a persistent dread that clung to her like a second skin. It wasn't overwhelming, but it was enough to demand her full attention.
Blaze halted mid-stride, her hands clenching and unclenching as she summoned a ball of fire. The flames flickered in the darkness, casting eerie shadows that danced across the walls. She flexed her fingers once more, and the fire extinguished, plunging the room back into an oppressive gloom.
'The fire still answers me, but why does this unease linger?'
The whispers had gone silent, leaving her in a void of uncertainty. She should have felt relief, yet the quiet gnawed at her nerves, leaving her with a sense of impending doom that she couldn't quite explain.
She attempted to shove those thoughts from her mind, recalling the fantastic dance she shared with her partner. What more could she say except it was amazing? She held some qualms going into the theatre, but, once she and Silver took the stage and everyone found their arrangement more amusing than offputting, the dancing feline eased back into her professionalist mindset.
'My first duet. It wasn't half bad.' She smiled, proud of herself and Silver.
The success of their performance solidified her resolve. Having Silver as her dance partner was the best idea she entertained. There was much the two could learn, but the painter impressed her with his dedication and determination. It made her excited for the future.
The memory made her smile grow. She had received more praise than she could have anticipated, with compliments on her style and grace, especially considering how briefly she'd studied ballroom dance. The applause and admiration had been a balm, momentarily banishing the unease that now clawed at her. But as the memory faded, that familiar dread began to creep back in, stubborn and unrelenting.
'I need to check up on it.'
Blaze switched on the lights and moved around the room with purpose, clearing a space in the center for what was to come. Her movements were deliberate, methodical, as she placed lilac-scented candles in a careful arrangement. With a flick of her fingers, flames burst to life at each wick, her pyrokinesis making quick work of the task.
'I wonder what kind of candles the others prefer.' she mused, a fleeting thought as she took her position in the center of the room, sitting cross-legged in the darkened space. The soft glow of the candles bathed her in warm light, and the calming scent of lilac began to fill the room, easing the tension knotted in her chest.
Closing her eyes, Blaze focused her mind, grounding herself. She reinforced her inner spirit, locking onto the familiar pathway into her soul. Slowly, she ventured deeper, into the mental fortress that shielded her from the chaos within. The walls that had once been crumbling ruins now stood tall and pristine, a testament to the progress she had made. The debris that had once littered the grounds was gone, and the path leading to the castle was neatly restored, well-kept and unmarred.
'It's amazing,' she thought, allowing herself a brief moment of pride. 'I guess Vanilla was right. Silver and his friends are a good influence. …My friends.'
The main fortress itself was still under repair—cracks in the stone, scaffolding on the outer walls—but it was progress. Inside, however, still needed attention, more supervision. It would take time, but at least the worst of the damage had been dealt with. The path was clear again.
As she approached the heart of her mental sanctum, Blaze steeled herself, her expression hardening. The Inner Sanctum awaited, the deepest part of her mind, where she kept her most dangerous secret.
The moment she arrived, she felt it. The air in her mind shifted, growing heavy, charged with a familiar heat. There, waiting for her, was the creature she had fought so long to contain—the lava monster, its molten form simmering with barely restrained fury. Its emerald green eyes met hers, wide with an unnatural intelligence, glowing brighter, more aggressive than she remembered.
Iblis.
The beast stirred within its prison, sensing her presence, its molten body rippling with fiery rage. Blaze didn't flinch as she locked eyes with the creature, her jaw clenched.
Blaze kept her distance as she inspected the shimmering barriers that held Iblis in its cage. The beast thrashed violently, its molten body crashing against the confines of its prison, roaring and screeching in frustration. Flames erupted from its mouth, but the enchanted seal held firm, the ethereal chains pulsing with a faint, protective glow. She smirked with pride. Spending time with Silver and their friends made her more creative.
'Seal is holding strong. Nothing out of the ordinary,' she thought, her gaze sweeping over the glowing runes etched into the invisible walls. Iblis' tantrum didn't rattle her; she had seen this countless times. Its fury was relentless, but the cage, reinforced by her will, remained unbroken.
Still, despite the containment, that nagging sense of unease lingered, creeping at the back of her mind like a whisper she couldn't quite hear.
'Everything is in order, so why do I feel this way?'
She stepped back, turning her attention from the raging monster to the Inner Sanctum itself. The walls were solid, the floor unmarred, everything in its place. But Blaze knew better than to trust appearances alone. She closed her eyes, reaching out with her senses, searching for any cracks in the fortress, any disturbances in the flow of energy that could explain her growing anxiety.
Something shifted, a flicker of movement at the edge of her senses. Blaze's heart skipped, and she snapped her head toward the entrance of the sanctum, her eyes narrowing.
"Who's there?" Her voice rang out, sharp and commanding, as flames ignited around her fists, casting an eerie glow across the stone walls. The fire twisted and pulsed with her anger, ready to unleash its wrath on whatever dared intrude on her mental domain.
For a moment, silence reigned. The only sound was the crackling of her flames and the frustrated growls of Iblis. Blaze's senses sharpened, scanning the shadows for any trace of movement. She tightened her stance, prepared for an attack.
Then, a whisper—faint, almost inaudible—drifted from the entrance. It wasn't Iblis, nor was it something she recognized. The air grew colder, a sharp contrast to the heat of her flames.
Blaze's fire flared brighter, illuminating the dark corners of the room. "Show yourself," she demanded, her voice unwavering, though her pulse quickened. Something had entered her sanctuary, something that shouldn't have been able to breach her mental defenses.
And it was watching her.
"It's no use, warden."
The flames around her fists flickered for a moment before roaring back to life. She glared at Iblis, but the lava monster, once thrashing mindlessly in its cage, was now still, its molten form eerily calm. Its glowing emerald eyes locked onto hers, and to her horror, its jagged mouth curled into what could only be described as a wicked smile. The sight made her blood run cold.
She came to another realization. 'I've truly been compromised.'
The fire around them flared in response to her rising tension. Fury flooded her face. Her inner sanctum was disturbed by an unknown intruder.
"It's no use, warden," the ghostly voice hissed from the shadows, slithering through the room like a venomous serpent. "It'll be free soon."
Blaze's heart pounded in her chest, but she didn't back down. "The seal is stronger than ever," she replied, her voice hardening as she tried to regain control of the situation. "Iblis isn't going anywhere!"
But then, the laughter. That twisted, mocking laugh—half from Iblis, half from the unseen intruder—sent a chill running down her spine. It was the kind of laugh that knew something she didn't, the kind that dripped with cruel certainty.
"The seal may be strong, but you? You're breaking."
She could feel their eyes on her, Iblis' emerald gaze gleaming with a sick amusement. The air around them crackled, the flames growing hotter, fiercer, as if her very soul was being tested.
"You feel it, don't you? The cracks are already forming. The fear. The doubt. The unease."
Blaze turned her back, refusing to give the duo the satisfaction of a reaction. The creeping dread that had haunted her these past days, the sense that something was wrong—she had a theory now. Iblis found an ally to torment her. It was feeding off her doubts, testing the limits of her control, and waiting for the slightest change to set the beast free.
"You won't win," Blaze declared. "I won't let you."
Iblis' grin widened, its molten body seething with barely contained power. Its voice dripped with smugness as it spoke again, as though it knew a secret Blaze couldn't yet grasp.
"I'll start the massacre with him."
Then, the ghostly voice chose to part one more ominous phrase. "It's too late to hide. He's already aware."
Blaze opened her eyes, blinking as the familiar glow of the candle flames greeted her. Soft, lilac-scented air filled the room, but it did little to calm the storm swirling in her mind. The transition from the mental sanctum back to the physical world felt jarring, her thoughts sluggish and weighed down by the encounter she had just witnessed.
The ominous words haunted her. "You're breaking... The cracks are forming."
A chill ran down her spine. 'I knew I wasn't crazy.'
She had sensed something wrong for days now, but this—this was confirmation that the unease wasn't just in her head. The cracks were real, and Iblis knew it.
The flames of the candles flickered, casting long, twisting shadows along the walls. Blaze sat in silence, her hands resting in her lap, fingers still tingling with the remnants of her power.
'I checked the seal. It's strong. But that intruder. What's the meaning of this?'
She gripped her head, her mind was heavy with questions. Was Iblis truly growing stronger, or was she weakening? How did its ally break through her defenses, or was this just another test of her will? And, perhaps most troubling of all—did Silver know about her curse?
Blaze exhaled slowly, steadying herself. Answers wouldn't come tonight, but the encounter had left her with one undeniable truth: she was running out of time.
Silver was never a fan of dystopian paintings. The hopelessness and depression of the world made him sad. He supposed it did accomplish the artist's motives, but his heart always ached when delving into apocalyptic scenery. Of course, he dabbled in dystopian compositions, but he tried making the scene within the dystopia more action oriented, to tell the story of hope still flowing within a supposedly hopeless world.
"What is this place?" He muttered to himself. His glistening form flew high above the world, giving him a bird's eye view of the destruction that stretched for miles.
The skies were darkened by thick clouds of ash and smoke, illuminated by the flickering orange and red glow of massive fires raging across the city. Broken skyscrapers stood as jagged silhouettes, their glass windows shattered and steel structures twisted and mangled. Some buildings were still being consumed by the flames, adding to the city's fiery demise, while others lie in heaps of rubble, their collapse marking the toll of the endless destruction.
"What happened?"
Debris filled the streets—cars overturned, chunks of concrete ripped from the ground, and pieces of the once-functioning city infrastructure scattered like confetti in a storm. The roads themselves lie cracked and split, with sections jutting into the air or hanging precariously over deep chasms of lava below. Fiery tornadoes swirled through the ruins, sucking up debris, and posing a constant threat to anyone unlucky enough to be caught in their path.
Gravity itself appeared distorted, with entire chunks of the city suspended in midair, as if reality was breaking down along with the city's structure. The floating platforms and disjointed pieces of urban debris created a chaotic, fragmented landscape that defied the laws of physics.
"This place is insane."
Among the ruins, molten lava flowed freely, bubbling up from fissures in the earth and pouring over streets and underpasses, creating treacherous rivers of fire. The air was thick with the smell of sulfur, and the heat radiating from the molten ground was unbearable.
"I'm frying like an egg out here," he muttered, wiping the sweat from his brow. The air was suffocating, waves of heat radiating from the molten ground beneath him. Suddenly, a deep rumble shook the land, and Silver barely had time to react before the earth split open and flaming geysers erupted into the sky.
"Whoa!" Silver yelped, his instincts kicking in as he darted to the side, narrowly avoiding the searing jets of flame. He twisted and spun through the air, dodging geysers that shot up with bone-shaking force. The heat seemed to pulse with a malevolent life, and the lava below surged, molten tendrils reaching up as if trying to snatch him from the sky.
"Wha?" he gasped, his heart pounding in his chest. The city around him was disintegrating, buildings collapsing, swallowed by the rising inferno. His mind raced, but the world around him was unraveling too fast.
A second rumble, even more violent, split the air, followed by something far more terrifying. Amid the roar of fire and crumbling buildings, Silver could hear them—monstrous, guttural screams, growing louder, closer. The ground trembled as the sound grew near, a chorus of roars that made his blood run cold. Something was coming, and it wasn't just the fire and the collapsing city.
Silver's eyes darted through the chaos, trying to make out the shapes emerging from the flames. They were converging to his position. All around him, the same guttural screeches filled his ears. He was surrounded, both on land and in the air. There was no escape for the painter, and the nightmare was just beginning.
The painter awoke with a start, gasping for breath as cold sweat clung to his skin. His heart raced, the remnants of the nightmare clinging to him like a shadow. Silver threw the covers aside and hurried to the window, yanking the curtains open. Outside, the city stretched out under the pale glow of the moon, vibrant and full of life. The streetlights flickered, and distant sounds of traffic and laughter filtered through the night air.
He pressed his hand against the cool glass, steadying his breath, willing the terror to subside. 'Only a nightmare. It was only a nightmare.'
But as he sat back on his bed, wiping the sweat from his face, the haunting images refused to fade. The ruined city, scorched and crumbling, felt too vivid, too familiar, as if it were more than a dream. It lingered in the back of his mind, and yet, it beckoned him—demanded to be captured. Silver turned his gaze to his current artwork, his breath catching when he saw it: the unfinished portrait of Blaze. His hands trembled slightly as he swallowed the lump in his throat. The painting, once so serene, no longer seemed to reflect the intensity he craved. The fire in his heart wasn't the same as the fire in his dream.
And then it hit him—the nightmare.
Without hesitation, he stepped toward the canvas, his psychokinesis sparking to life. Brushes and paint hovered beside him, awaiting his command. His expression grew focused, almost grim, as he brought the fiery chaos of his vision to life. Bold strokes of red and orange filled the background, depicting rivers of fire that tore through the once peaceful scene. Geysers of molten lava erupted violently, adding life and destruction to the image. His hands moved with purpose, almost as if the nightmare itself was guiding him.
He darkened the sky with deep shades of gray and black, blending the ash and smoke until it swallowed the horizon. Towering, crumbling skyscrapers took shape on the outskirts, mere skeletons of what they once were, just as they had been in his dream. The contrast was stark, violent. And yet, it felt right.
Silver stepped back for a moment, gazing at his creation. The peaceful image of Blaze was now surrounded by chaos and destruction—a strange harmony between beauty and ruin. This was it. This was the muse he had been searching for. To think, it had come from a nightmare.
And as he looked at the fiery landscape he'd created, he wondered—was it just inspiration, or was it something more?
One last piece of the puzzle. Silver stared at the canvas, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. Blaze, the hero in his metaphorical story, stood as a beacon of hope—her presence radiating against the backdrop of chaos and ruin. She was the light in the darkness, the figure that could withstand the desolation around her. But she needed a counterpart, an antagonist. A force that embodied the very destruction she was up against.
'A warrior princess locked in an eternal battle against a monster of pure chaos and destruction. She opposes the monster and its minions at every turn, but no matter what she did, victory seemed to be a fleeting dream. Her body and mind were pushed far beyond their limit, but the princess, wanting to protect her kingdom, continued to fight, never giving up despite the astronomical odds stacked against her.'
Silver's mind raced, revisiting the nightmare that had sparked his creative frenzy. The monstrous roars, the deep, guttural cries that had echoed through the crumbling city—it made him sick to think of it, but at the same time, those terrifying sounds offered the potential for something powerful, something that could amplify the chaos he'd already painted. He latched onto that feeling—the despair, the madness—and tried to let it guide him.
'Gah! Come on, Silver! You're almost there! Don't choke at the finish line! You have a monster, but you need to give it form.'
But no image came. Nothing. The vision of the antagonist stayed shrouded in the dark corners of his mind, just beyond reach. Frustrated but undeterred, Silver pushed the feeling aside. He had already made remarkable progress in just a couple of hours—he was so close. The end was nearly in sight. He had captured the essence of his vision, but he was missing the final piece to bring the monster to life.
He could feel it, though. He knew the creature was there, waiting. The roars, the echoing cries—whatever it was, it was the one responsible for the obliteration of the city. It was more than just a force of destruction; it was a living nightmare. And it had sensed him. In his dream, the monster had been aware of him, stalking him like prey, as if he had trespassed into its world. It didn't like him being there, and it wanted nothing more than to make Silver experience the flames of hell.
'The Flames of Disaster!' Silver gasped, his last bit of inspiration coming through.
Silver could feel the weight of the creature's presence even now, lingering in the back of his mind. But he just couldn't put its shape to the canvas. Not yet.
He stepped back from his work, staring at the chaos and beauty he had already crafted. The monster was there, somewhere in the ashes, waiting to be unleashed. He just needed to find the key to unlock it.
A quiet knock rapped at his door, and then the guest pushed it open, revealing it to be a tired Sonic.
He yawned. "Silver, you okay, dude? I heard you shuffling."
"Sonic, come look at this." He pulled Sonic inside and showed him his work in progress. "I'm still lacking critical pieces, but I'm almost finished."
Sonic rubbed his eyes and took a good long look. He whistled his praise.
"Hey, looking epic, Bro. I like that a lot. I thought you hated post-apocalyptic scenes."
"I do, but… something came to me in a nightmare. I had to capture it."
Sonic crossed his arms, nodding in approval. "Sometimes, the best inspiration comes from the darkest places." He tilted his head, studying the empty space in the composition. "What's missing?"
"The monster," Silver said, voice almost reverent. "It was there, Sonic. Demons, fire, lava—an entire world crumbling under the weight of something colossal. The Flames of Disaster."
Sonic smirked. "That's a sick name. Let's see… How about a lava dragon?"
Silver's fingers twitched at the thought. "Yeah… yeah, that could work." His mind was already racing ahead, imagining the way it would coil through the inferno, its molten scales glowing like embers.
Sonic grinned. "There we go. Thought of a name for it yet?"
Silver hesitated, his excitement dimming just a little. "Not yet. Honestly… I'm worried Blaze won't like it."
Sonic scoffed. "Bro, come on. She's gonna love it. But, more importantly—" He threw an arm around Silver's shoulder, voice teasing. "Where's mine?"
Silver rolled his eyes but couldn't suppress a chuckle. "Seriously?"
"Dude, you can't tell me you haven't been inspired by our performances. You've been holding out on me."
Shaking his head, Silver motioned him over to the closet. "Alright, alright. I'll show you my progress."
He switched on the light, revealing a collection of canvases drying in the back.
"I'm almost done with Amy's, but since you're my brother," he smirked, "I put more time into yours."
Sonic's chest swelled with pride. "Now that's what I'm talking about."
"There's just one condition," Silver added.
Sonic raised a brow. "Oh boy. Hit me."
"You have to share it with Tails."
Sonic laughed. "That's it? Easy."
Silver's closet was divided into two sections. One half was for clothes—plain, practical, and neatly arranged. Fashion had never been his thing, unlike his siblings. The other half, however, was where his true passion lived.
"Take a look," he said, stepping aside.
It was like walking into a miniature art gallery. The walls were lined with canvases, each one carefully positioned, capturing moments of inspiration in oil and acrylic. Some paintings were unfinished, the raw energy of their ideas still in motion, while others were polished to perfection.
Sonic's gaze swept over the collection, but it was one piece in particular that made his eyes light up like fireworks.
Four new paintings rested in the back, but only one was fully complete. Silver smirked, watching the way Sonic's ears perked up as he took in the details.
"I wasn't sure what direction to take at first," Silver admitted. "I wanted to do something that captured both of you, so I decided to merge your experiences."
The painting showcased Sonic and Tails standing back to back, guitars in hand, poised in the glow of a spotlight. They weren't just rockstars—no, Silver had taken a different approach. They were refined, dapper musicians, dressed in sleek, well-fitted suits and ties, exuding a level of class that contrasted sharply with their usual high-energy performances. Yet, even in this elegance, their dynamic energy was undeniable.
Sonic's grin stretched wide. "Nice, nice, nice!" He practically buzzed with excitement, his eyes gleaming as he took in every detail. "Dude, this is amazing! We look like we're about to drop the most legendary album of all time!"
Silver chuckled. "That was kind of the idea."
Sonic folded his arms, nodding in approval. "Man, I can already hear the music just looking at it. Tails is gonna love this." He turned to Silver with a smirk. "You're seriously holding out on us, bro. This needs to be framed—no, scratch that—put on an actual album cover."
Silver rolled his eyes. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves."
But deep down, the pride in Sonic's voice made his heart soar.