Through the Rift
Earth-121775
After the singularity wormhole appeared in the gray skies above the Arcadia, Alice's situation deteriorated rapidly. Moments after the wormhole vanished, the Umbrella Corporation, led by a brainwashed Jill Valentine, controlled by the Red Queen, launched a devastating assault on the vessel. Amidst the ensuing chaos, Alice fought valiantly, using her pistols to eliminate Umbrella operatives and attempting to target Jill through the fire and explosions. Survivors scrambled for safety, with Claire and Chris Redfield lost in the turmoil. In a desperate move, Alice wielded her sawn-off shotguns against the attacking aircraft, successfully hitting the pilot. However, as the aircraft crash-landed onto the Arcadia, the resulting explosion propelled Alice overboard into the cold ocean below.
Surviving the fall, Alice was soon captured by Umbrella forces and subjected to interrogation by the corporation and the brainwashed Jill Valentine. She was taken to an underwater facility, unaware that a clone of herself had awakened in a suburban setting with a husband, Todd, and a deaf daughter, Becky. During her captivity, a power outage occurred, providing Alice the opportunity to escape, determined to confront Umbrella, Jill, and the Red Queen.
From here, Alice's story takes a new turn.
Alice seemingly stood in the center of Shibuya Square, Tokyo, her boots planted firmly on the slick pavement of the iconic crosswalk. The glowing neon lights reflected off the rain-soaked ground, casting vibrant streaks of green, yellow, and red across the empty streets. The usual chaos of Tokyo was nowhere to be seen—no people, no sound, only eerie silence.
Dressed in a sleek black tactical bodysuit, fitted with silver clasps running down her torso, Alice looked ready for war. Her short, dark hair clung to her face from the damp air, and her expression was one of sharp focus, her piercing gaze scanning the lifeless square for any sign of movement. Her jaw was set, eyes cold and unrelenting, the look of someone who had seen hell and was ready for whatever came next.
Something wasn't right. She could feel it in the air.
Her fingers twitched instinctively at her sides, ready to react at the slightest provocation. Around her, the towering buildings loomed like silent watchers, their brightly lit billboards flickering ominously. A chill ran down her spine as she stepped forward, her movements deliberate, controlled.
"What is this…" she murmured, her voice low, the question hanging unanswered in the empty air.
Alice spotted an abandoned police car nearby, its red and blue lights still flashing faintly in the rain-soaked square. Without hesitation, she walked up to it and tried the door—locked. Scanning her surroundings, her eyes landed on a nearby bike rack. A basket held a lock and chain, rusted but sturdy.
Alice grabbed it and returned to the car. With a swift, practiced motion, she swung the chain like a whip, the heavy lock at its end smashing through the passenger-side window with a sharp crack! Shards of glass rained down inside the car. Reaching through the jagged opening, her fingerless glove protected her hand as she popped open the glove compartment.
Inside, she found a silver handgun and a small box of ammunition. Alice grabbed both, slipping the ammo into the top of her boot with a practiced flick of her wrist. She wrapped the chain tightly around her free hand, the cold metal biting into her skin, and readied the firearm in her other.
From above, she was being watched.
The Red Queen's crimson interface glowed to life, the camera feed zooming in on Alice's every movement. Across the screen, bold white letters appeared:
ESCAPED FUGITIVE PROJECT ALICE
PROTOCOL SIX INITIATED
Something was coming.
Back in the center of the road, Alice stood tall, armed and ready to fight, her gaze sharp and unwavering.
Then, a voice echoed through the still, empty streets.
"Standby."
Alice stopped, tensing, her eyes darting around. She looked up, searching for the source of the voice.
"Standby," it repeated, mechanical and detached.
A sudden drop of water hit her cheek. She frowned, brushing it with the chain-wrapped hand and feeling the wetness linger on her fingertips.
The voice returned once more, monotone and chilling:
"Tokyo Sequence Initialized."
Alice's head snapped upward just as the sky opened above her. Rain came down in torrents, a relentless deluge that drenched her in seconds.
Then something stranger happened.
Out of nowhere, crowds began to emerge. People walked past her as if nothing was wrong—commuters clutching umbrellas, their hurried footsteps splashing through puddles as conversations buzzed faintly in the air.
Alice stood frozen, bewildered by the sudden change. She watched as men, women, and children passed by, completely unbothered by her presence. It was as if she had been dropped into a completely different world.
Nearby, a police officer returned to their damaged vehicle. Spotting the shattered window, he pointed and shouted to others, gesturing angrily and trying to make sense of the vandalism. Alice ignored him, her attention fixed on the bizarre scene unfolding around her.
Her sharp eyes caught movement—a woman in a blue dress stumbling past, her head tilted downward and soaked from the rain. There was something off about her: the slow shuffle, the vacant expression, the heavy breaths that fogged the damp air.
Alice watched as the woman pushed forward, only to stop a few feet away. The crowd continued to part around her, unaware of her unnatural stillness. Slowly, unnervingly, the woman lifted her head. Her face was pale, soaked hair plastered against her skin, but her wide-open eyes glowed with an unnatural hunger.
Alice's instincts flared.
Suddenly, the woman turned her attention to a middle-aged man in a brown raincoat, who walked nearby, umbrella in hand.
Then it happened.
The woman screeched, her mouth tearing open unnaturally wide, and lunged forward with terrifying speed. The man barely had time to react before her hands clamped down on him, dragging him to the wet pavement. His scream echoed through the square as she sank her teeth into his neck, blood splattering across the ground as he cried out in agony.
Chaos erupted.
The crowd, now aware of the danger, exploded into panic. People screamed and scattered, umbrellas dropped and trampled underfoot as they fled through the rain. From the edges of the square, more figures appeared—moving erratically, snarling, eyes wild. The infected were here.
Alice didn't move, her grip on the chain and gun tightening as she observed the chaos spiraling around her. Her sharp eyes scanned the square, searching for an opening—anything to make sense of the madness.
Then she saw it.
The woman in blue, the one who had attacked the man, was rising from the ground. Blood streaked down her pale face, pooling at her chin and dripping onto the wet concrete. Her glassy, lifeless eyes locked onto Alice, staring with a menacing intensity.
Alice's breath hitched, her expression flickering with shock and horror. For the first time in a long while, her steel resolve wavered—eyes wide, lips parted. The rain poured relentlessly, soaking her through as the scene played out in surreal clarity.
But something else caught her attention.
A low hissing sound broke through the din of the downpour. Alice turned sharply, her gaze snapping to the distance. A building was beginning to open, its exterior splitting apart with a slow, mechanical groan.
From within, a blinding white light began to seep through the widening gap. At first, it pulsed faintly, accompanied by a slow, rhythmic beeping. As the building continued to open, the light grew stronger, more intense, piercing through the rain like a beacon.
Alice stood frozen, transfixed by the unnatural glow, her mind fighting to process what she was seeing. The brightness seemed to pull at her, as though willing her forward.
Behind her, a sickening groan snapped her back to reality.
The infected woman in blue staggered forward, her bloodied mouth now dripping dark red onto the pavement. The groan deepened, twisting into something more sinister.
Alice whipped around just in time to see the woman break into a full sprint, charging straight for her with unnatural speed.
And she wasn't alone.
Other infected citizens—pale, bloodied, and frenzied appeared. They shrieked and groaned as they spotted Alice, their heads snapping toward her like predators locking onto prey. One after another, they began to run.
Alice didn't wait.
She spun on her heel and bolted for the opening building, the brilliant white light her only escape. Her boots splashed through puddles as she raced across the rain-slicked crosswalk, water kicking up with every step. The roar of the infected grew louder behind her, their pounding footsteps closing in fast.
The light ahead intensified, so bright now it was almost blinding. Alice didn't care. She pushed herself harder, every instinct screaming at her to reach it—whatever it was—before the horde caught up.
The infected surged forward, relentless and wild, their screeches echoing through the downpour. But Alice kept moving, her grip on the gun and chain unyielding, her focus locked on the light ahead.
It was her only way out, apparently.
The moment Alice ran into the piercing white light, everything changed.
Suddenly, she was somewhere else entirely.
Alice sprinted forward, her boots striking the ground with sharp, echoing thuds. She was now in a sterile, endless corridor—white panels stretched infinitely on both sides, glowing with an artificial brilliance that stung her eyes. The walls and floor were flawless, unsettling in their perfection, as though she'd been dropped into a place outside reality.
She didn't stop running. Her breath was steady, her focus razor-sharp, but confusion gnawed at her.
"Where am I?" Alice thought as she ran.
Her shadow stretched long across the pristine floor, stark against the blinding glow. Alice's grip on the handgun tightened, the chain wrapped around her free hand clinking faintly with every step. She glanced over her shoulder—her instincts flared.
The infected woman in blue was on her heels, groaning as she lunged forward, faster now.
Alice acted fast. She dropped her shoulder, and the infected woman tumbled past her, skidding across the floor before scrambling back to her feet. Her cold, glassy eyes locked on Alice, blood spewing from her mouth in dark rivulets.
Alice was ready. She lashed the chain in her hand, the metal whip cracking through the air and smashing into the infected woman's face. The woman staggered back, stunned.
Without hesitating, Alice shifted her weight and launched a roundhouse kick. Her boot connected hard, sending the infected crashing into the nearby wall with a heavy thud.
Alice's victory was short-lived. Another infected figure appeared, rushing her. Alice pivoted, snapping the chain through the air—it struck the attacker across the head, sending them reeling. A third one lunged toward her, but Alice, now in her element, whipped around, the chain arcing fluidly to smack her foe straight in the face, dropping them to the ground.
Another infected tried to come at her from the side. Alice spun, raised her silver handgun, and fired. The shot staggered her enemy, and Alice followed up with a sharp kick that sent them sprawling.
More of the infected poured into the corridor, groaning and snarling as they sprinted toward her. Alice flipped back, ducking and weaving, her moves a masterclass in survival. Her gun barked sharply as she fired at targets, while her chain whipped through the air like a deadly serpent, smashing back foes who got too close.
But the more she fought, the more they came. From the far end of the hallway, a massive horde appeared—dozens of infected citizens charging at full speed.
Alice's eyes darted to the far end of the corridor. A dark doorway stood open, her only chance.
"Time to go." she thought.
She turned and bolted, boots hitting against the floor. The groans of the infected grew louder behind her, the horde giving chase. Alice ran with everything she had, her breath ragged, every muscle on edge.
The doorway hissed as she sprinted through it, the heavy doors beginning to close behind her. She glanced back mid-stride, seeing the infected still surging forward, their groans echoing through the corridor.
The doors sealed shut with a final clang, cutting off the horde and leaving her in silence.
Alice slowed to a stop, catching her breath. She now stood in a pitch-black room, the only light spilling through the sealed doorway behind her. Shadows swallowed everything else.
Gun held high, Alice pivoted on her heel, scanning the impenetrable darkness. Her breath was steady, but every muscle in her body remained taut, ready for whatever would strike next. Her free hand gripped the chain tightly, the cold metal digging into her skin, grounding her.
Then, she noticed it.
The air shifted.
Directly in front of her, the darkness began to twist and ripple unnaturally. Flickers of faint blue light pulsed through it, illuminating the void with an otherworldly glow. The light expanded, its eerie hum vibrating in her ears.
"What now?!" Alice muttered.
The answer came swiftly.
A piercing gust erupted from the center of the flickering light, as if the very air had been ripped open. The void before her expanded into a spiraling rift—a jagged tear in reality itself, glowing with a blue light. The force of it hit her like a shockwave, the pull sudden and violent.
Alice staggered back, gritting her teeth as the wind roared around her.
The chain in her hand slackened, tugged by the unseen force. Alice's eyes darted down just in time to see it snake out of her grip, pulled toward the rift.
"What!" she cried out.
The chain clattered loudly to the ground, the metal scraping against the floor before vanishing into the void. Her handgun followed next, slipping from her hand and spinning wildly through the air. It disappeared into the rift.
Alice planted her feet, trying to steady herself against the pull. Her breath came in sharp bursts as her arms shot out, searching for something—anything—to hold onto.
The sound of the rift grew deafening, a deep, unrelenting roar that drowned out her own thoughts.
Spotting the Umbrella-shaped handles on the sealed door behind her, Alice lunged for them, her fingers outstretched. The wind ripped at her body, pulling her backward, but she managed to grip the cold metal with both hands.
"Come on…!" she hissed through clenched teeth.
The pull intensified, as if the rift was alive—hungry, determined to drag her in. Her body strained against the force, the pressure threatening to rip her free.
With every second, the rift expanded, its blue light flaring brighter. Alice's arms trembled as she held onto the handles, sweat mixing with the rainwater still dripping from her face.
The Umbrella door creaked ominously beneath the pressure, the metal groaning under her weight. Alice's grip slipped an inch, and her heart slammed in her chest.
"I won't let go!" she groaned.
But the wind roared louder, its force relentless.
"No!" she yelled, defiance in her voice.
The handles wrenched free from her hands, and Alice was ripped backward. Her body hit the air like a ragdoll, spinning as the bright blue light consumed her.
The last thing she saw was the Umbrella logo etched into the sealed door, growing smaller and smaller as the void swallowed her whole.
As Alice tumbled through the void, the world around her fractured and reformed in flashes of light and shadow. There was no sense of up or down, no time or space—only a relentless pull, dragging her through scenes that flickered past her like shards of broken glass.
Suddenly, a roar echoed, deep and guttural, vibrating through the void. Her body spun, and she caught sight of a vast arena drenched in golden light. Sand kicked up into the air as a lone figure stood in the center, battered and bloodied but unbowed. His breath came in ragged heaves as the crowd erupted into a deafening chant. The glint of a Roman helmet. A sword raised high.
And then it was gone.
Alice's body whipped sideways, and the light dimmed, replaced by something hauntingly still.
Ahead, a wax figure of a man stood eerily poised, his lifeless eyes frozen mid-scream. Another flicker, and the wax began to melt—drip, drip, drip—the face contorting as if caught in agony. Somewhere, a faint laugh echoed—a smooth voice, filled with delight and menace. A shadow of a man in a suit and mustache lingered just beyond her vision, almost as if watching her with morbid satisfaction.
The image splintered and dissolved.
The next flash struck like a hammer to her chest. Alice spun around in the weightless void and caught sight of a massive figure. His gauntleted hand rose slowly, fingers curling one by one. The light of six stones gleamed brilliantly, and then—
Snap.
The sound cut through the void like a gunshot. A bright light flared across the horizon, and Alice instinctively shielded her eyes. But as she blinked through it, she caught the aftermath. A look of utter defeat on a hero's face, looking in disbelief and shock. The hero's thick beard, short hair and scared eye just looked at the purple titan in front of him, lost for words.
"What you do...What you do?!" the hero demanded, his voice full of horror and dread.
She barely had time to process it before the void pulled her onward.
Alice felt herself plunge deeper, faster, the scenes warping like reflections in rippling water. Neon light shimmered next, bursting into view.
A green hooded figure perched atop a rooftop, bowstring drawn tight. A flash of a crimson blur streaked across a street, faster than she could track. Behind them, the skyline seemed to fold on itself, lightning crackling and sparks dancing in the air.
And then Alice fell through it, as though the very fabric of reality crumbled behind her.
A dense jungle exploded into view. Rain pounded the lush leaves, glistening against a figure that emerged from the underbrush—silent, deliberate. Twin pistols in hand, her face fierce and focused, the figure moved with the practiced grace of a predator. The jungle shimmered with hidden traps and secrets, but Alice couldn't hold onto the vision long enough to see where the woman disappeared to.
The void twisted violently again, flinging Alice into another vision.
This time, she fell through an ominous, overcast sky. Below her, the scene was stark and haunting: a vast shoreline stretched endlessly, waves crashing against the sand with relentless force. The silhouette of a shattered structure jutted from the earth, twisted and broken—a monument to something long lost.
As Alice's descent slowed momentarily, her eyes widened in disbelief. It wasn't just a structure—it was a statue. A face.
The unmistakable, crumbling remains of the Statue of Liberty lay half-buried in the sand. Its once-proud crown was fractured, its torch fallen and lifeless.
The wind howled through the emptiness, carrying faint echoes of despair. A distant, anguished voice rang out, distorted and broken.
"You maniacs! You blew it up!"
Alice gasped, reaching out instinctively, but the image shattered like glass, sending her tumbling further.
As Alice fell another vision began to play around her.
A yellow light, blinding and intense, pierced through. Then, as her vision cleared, she saw it—hovering in the sky.
A creature.
It was golden, its spiked form radiating power, with an aura so bright it seemed to bend reality around it. Red eyes, glowing like embers, stared ahead with unwavering determination. It wasn't human—it looked like something out of a myth, a living force of nature.
Below, a monstrous metal giant stood—towering and mechanical.
The creature shot forward with impossible speed, a golden streak zipping around the dome-like head of the robot. Alice watched, stunned, as the spiked being tore through the metal like it was paper—cutting a perfect line with precision, as though it were using a can opener on the machine.
Screeching metal echoed through the air as the dome groaned, the weight of it unstable. Finally, it broke loose. The massive head slid forward with a deafening crash, smashing into the ground below in a cloud of dust and debris.
Now exposed, a man stood inside the remains of the head—bald, with a wild mustache, his face frozen in disbelief but intrigue.
The golden figure hovered closer, his glowing aura crackling like lightning against the darkened sky. Alice caught his expression—sharp, focused, and deadly serious.
"It's over, Eggman," the figure said, his voice stern and final.
The moment hung frozen, the sheer weight of it pressing into Alice's chest.
And then—
Silence.
Her body fell still, and everything went dark.
Earth-91581
The wooden sign stood proudly at the edge of town, a familiar sight to anyone entering Green Hills, Montana. It had always been simple, welcoming—"Welcome to Green Hills The Little Town with a Big Heart." But now, a hastily tacked-on banner fluttered beneath it, flapping in the breeze. The words, printed in bold red, read:
"Rebuilding Together—Stronger Than Ever."
Beyond the sign, Green Hills stretched out in a mix of normalcy and chaos. The streets were alive again, but scars of the battle lingered. Construction crews lined the main roads, hammering, sawing, and patching up whatever they could. The Mean Bean Coffee Shop—a local favourite—stood half-repaired, its sign dangling precariously on a single chain. Ladders leaned against rooftops where workers replaced broken shingles. Power lines, hastily strung back into place, hummed faintly overhead.
The town's heart, usually so peaceful and unassuming, still buzzed with a quiet, uneasy energy.
For the people of Green Hills, life had turned upside down just a few days prior, during what the townsfolk now solemnly referred to as "The Day of the Colossus".
It had come out of nowhere. A towering, monstrous robot—like something from a sci-fi movie—stomped through their streets, shaking the earth and casting a shadow over everything. Powered by some kind of impossible green energy and piloted by Doctor Ivo Robotnik, the self-proclaimed genius and madman, the machine left destruction in its wake. But Robotnik was gone now—"dead," if you listened to the news reports.
That didn't mean anyone in Green Hills felt at ease.
Especially not with G.U.N. snooping around for answers still.
Despite this, the town was already spinning its own tales. Stories spread like wildfire, retold by excited kids, overwhelmed parents, and stunned construction workers. Heroes had emerged during the chaos—heroes who weren't human.
There was the red warrior with spiked fists that could shatter mountains. The twin-tailed fox who flew with his two tails. And then there was him—the blue blur that everyone had once assumed was a figment of their imaginations. Sonic the Hedgehog.
But the stories didn't stop there. Oh no, not anymore.
Because at the height of the battle, when hope had seemed lost and Robotnik's machine had towered over the town like an unstoppable colossus, Super Sonic had appeared. Witnesses described him as a glowing golden figure—a creature of light and power who descended from the skies and single-handedly brought the giant to its knees.
The local papers couldn't get enough of it. "The Golden Hero of Green Hills," they called him, printing blurry, hastily-snapped photos of Sonic, glowing and triumphant, above the wreckage.
Now, as life returned to a strange kind of normal, a quiet undercurrent of curiosity lingered. What had caused the glowing wormhole in the sky? The one that had appeared during the fight, so briefly yet so violently, before vanishing without a trace.
The townsfolk couldn't decide what to call it:
"A glitch in reality," some whispered.
"A sign from above," said others.
But G.U.N., watching silently from the shadows, had other theories.
In a modest house on the edge of town, with the trees and rocky mountains surrounding it, the young two tailed fox was hard at work, tweaking a strange yellow device. For him, the wormhole wasn't just a mystery. It was a question waiting to be answered.
Tails wouldn't stop until he solved it.
After the battle with Robotnik, Tails and Knuckles had been invited to live with the Wachowskis, joining Sonic in their warm and welcoming household. It was an easy decision for Tails, who had already grown attached to Sonic and his new family, but Knuckles had taken some convincing. Eventually, with his usual solemn tone, Knuckles agreed, to stay on Earth under one condition:
The Master Emerald must always remain protected.
It was an unspoken pact, one made between Sonic, Tails, and Knuckles the moment the dust had settled. Together, they would protect the Master Emerald, no matter what—Knuckles ensuring its safety with his strength, Sonic providing his speed and leadership, and Tails… well, Tails would figure out the how.
Now, in the Wachowskis' garage, Tails was doing exactly that.
The two-tailed fox sat hunched over a cluttered workbench, tools scattered around him with a yellow backpack sitting close by. His yellow handheld device—one he had used to track Sonic's energy when he first arrived in Green Hills—lay open before him, its circuits exposed.
For the past few days, the lingering traces of that wormhole had gnawed at him. He hadn't been able to let it go. It had vanished as quickly as it appeared, but its energy… that hadn't disappeared entirely. He could still sense it. It was faint, like an aftershock, but Tails knew it was there.
And if he could track it? Maybe he could find answers.
He reassembled the device and tightened the final bolt, letting out a satisfied sigh as he held the device up in the light. It beeped softly, the screen flickering to life as it displayed faint distortion readings.
"Finally!" Tails said to himself, a triumphant smile breaking across his face.
The garage door creaked open, and the peaceful hum of Tails' work was suddenly interrupted by familiar voices.
"Yo, Tails! You're still tinkering with that thing?" Sonic's voice rang out, lighthearted and teasing, as he zipped into the garage with Tom following close behind. "Seriously, don't you ever take a break, buddy?"
Tails swiveled his stool around, holding up the device proudly.
"I'm close, Sonic! This might be able to track the energy the wormhole left behind. If we figure out where it came from, we'll know what it was!"
Tom looked around the garage with a small smile. It was becoming less of a garage and more of a workshop—Tails' workshop, if they were being honest.
"You've been working hard on that thing for days, Tails," Tom said, his tone warm and encouraging. "Maybe take a breather? Maddie's making sandwiches, and Knuckles is… trying something new. He might need your smarts."
"Something new, like what?" Tails asked, not even looking up from his device as he tightened another screw.
Tom scratched the back of his head, trying not to laugh.
"He's… playing a video game. I think he's about to lose his patience with it."
Tails blinked, glancing up for the first time.
"Knuckles? Playing a video game?" he questioned in disbelief.
"He's playing The House of the Dead 4," Sonic chimed in with a smirk. "It's not as good as 2 or 3, but hey, what do I know? I'm not with IGN." He crossed his arms dramatically, adding with a mock-serious tone, "Solid seven out of ten from me. Too much apocalypse for one game though."
"Ha," Tails laughed slightly. "I couldn't imagine Knuckles playing The House of the Dead 4?"
"Oh, he's not just playing it," Tom clarified with a grin. "He's fighting it—like literally. He's yelling at the screen about zombies dishonouring him."
"Oh yeah. He's tried punching the controller twice already," Sonic admitted with a smirk. "I told him it's not that kind of battle, but he's still convinced the game is cheating him."
"That… I've got to see," Tails said, shaking his head in disbelief.
"You know, we need to get Knuckles into Pokémon Go!" Sonic exclaimed. "It's perfect for him—outdoors, endless quests, and maybe he'll stumble on a Pikachu."
Tails chuckled at the mental image.
"Knuckles walking around town with a mobile device looking for Pokémon? Ok, that is definitely something I'd pay to see," he remarked with a smile.
The group had a small laugh at the idea. But Tom moved the conversation back along.
"Come on, genius," Tom stepped forward, making an effort to pry Tails away from his workstation. "Lunch first, wormhole mysteries later."
Tails hesitated, the glimmer of excitement still lighting up his eyes.
"I'll grab lunch in a bit, I promise, Tom," he said thoughtfully. "But this is important! That wormhole wasn't natural. It means something."
Sonic smirked, shaking his head as he leaned casually against the garage doorframe.
"You're starting to sound like Knuckles, buddy," he teased. "Next thing you know, you'll be calling it a 'rift in the very fabric of existence.'"
As if on cue, a deep, rumbling voice echoed from behind them.
"It is a rift in the very fabric of existence!" it remarked.
The voice rolled into the garage like distant thunder, cutting through the quiet hum of Tails' device. Sonic blinked, his smirk widening into a full grin.
"See? What'd I tell you?" Sonic quipped.
The group turned to find Knuckles standing there, his arms folded across his broad chest, his brow furrowed in its usual expression of determined seriousness. The red echidna's gaze swept over the garage like he was assessing a battlefield.
"Did you manage to get to the next level, Knux?" Sonic asked with a playful tone.
Knuckles' expression darkened further.
"No," he grumbled. "But I will have my victory, Hedgehog!" he declared.
Tom chuckled, shaking his head as he crossed his arms.
"At least you didn't break the console," he remarked.
"Yet," Sonic chimed in, grabbing and spinning a wrench in his gloved fingers playfully.
Knuckles ignored the comment and strode into the garage, his heavy footsteps echoing softly on the concrete floor. He stopped near Tails, his gaze narrowing at the glowing screen of the handheld device. Tilting his head slightly, he studied the strange symbols and faint pulses of energy flashing across it.
"You've been working tirelessly on that machine, Fox," Knuckles observed, suspicion etching deeper into his features. "What purpose does it serve?"
Tails pointed to the glowing screen of his device, where faint lines of energy patterns blinked steadily.
"It's detecting residual distortion energy, Knuckles—the energy left behind by that wormhole," he explained.
"And what have you discovered?" Knuckles asked.
Tails hesitated for just a moment before replying, his voice steady but uncertain.
"Not much yet. The readings are faint, almost like the wormhole wasn't supposed to exist here. But…" He paused, glancing back at the screen. "There's something still lingering. I don't think we've seen the last of it."
"That energy is dangerous. The Master Emerald has been unsettled since its appearance," Knuckles remarked. "I felt it. We cannot allow such chaos to threaten this world again."
Sonic, ever the voice of casual optimism, waved a hand dismissively.
"Relax, big guy. If anything does happen, we'll handle it," he affirmed.
Knuckles didn't look convinced. He turned back to Tails, his tone grave.
"Keep monitoring this 'distortion,' Fox. We must be prepared," he cautioned.
"I will. If this energy shows up again, I'll know about it," Tails replied with a nod.
Satisfied—at least for now—Knuckles stepped back slightly.
"Good. Now, what is this 'base of ball' activity Wachowski speaks of?" he asked, turning to Tom. "He claims it is a test of strength, yet I see no enemies to defeat."
"From video games to baseball," Sonic said, looking at Knuckles with a grin, "this new life has been full of surprises for you, hasn't it?"
Knuckles ignored Sonic's comment.
Tom, who had been observing quietly with his usual calm, chimed in with a smile.
"Well, Knuckles, baseball isn't exactly about defeating enemies. It's more of a game. You work together as a team, take turns hitting a ball with a bat, and try to score points by running around bases."
"A game?" Knuckles echoed, clearly skeptical. "How does striking a ball with a stick determine strength? Or honour?"
Sonic grinned and hopped onto the workbench, crossing his legs.
"Oh, trust me, Knux. You'll love it. It's got everything you like—speed, precision, and smashing things."
Knuckles frowned thoughtfully, nodding slowly.
"Speed, precision, and smashing? Hm. Perhaps there is honour in this… base of ball."
Tom stifled a laugh while Tails covered his mouth with a hand, trying to hide his smile.
"It's not about honour," Tom said. "It's about having fun, enjoying yourself, and spending time with your friends."
Knuckles' brow furrowed, as though the concept of fun itself was alien.
"Fun," Knuckles repeated, the word rolling awkwardly off his tongue. "I do not fully understand this concept. Is fun… combat training disguised as recreation?"
Sonic shot Tails a look, smirking.
"He's learning..." he remarked with a playful tone.
Tails laughed softly, the moment of levity breaking his focus as he reached for his device to tuck it into his yellow backpack. But then—
BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!
The sudden loud, shrill beeping made everyone freeze. Tails' eyes widened, his gloved hands tightening around the device as its screen flickered wildly with sharp, jagged lines of energy readings.
"Um, Tails... What was that?" Sonic asked, his playful tone instantly replaced with concern.
Tails stared intently at the screen, his excitement and worry battling for dominance.
"It's the distortion energy! It's spiking!" the fox explained.
Tom stepped forward, brow furrowed, as he tried to peer over Tails' shoulder.
"Spiking? What does that mean?" he probed.
"It means the energy I've been tracking… it's growing stronger. Something's happening," Tails explained, recalibrating the device as numbers began to scroll across the screen.
"Do you mean to say another vortex is forming?" Knuckles questioned.
"It's hard to say," Tails admitted. "It could be, or something else, linked to that energy from the wormhole."
"Where can we find it, Fox?" Knuckles probed further.
Tails glanced at the readings, his fur bristling slightly as the device pinged repeatedly.
"Approx. two kilometers away… due west. That's… oh no."
Tom's expression fell.
"The town?!" he remarked.
"Oh boy..." Sonic muttered, his face looking concerned.
"Tails, the town is still being repaired!" Tom remarked. "If there's another one of those things, it could make everything worse!"
"Well, we can't just stand here," Sonic said, eager to get moving. "If something's going down in Green Hills, we need to check it out—fast."
Knuckles turned sharply, determination gleaming in his eyes.
"Then we must move. To the blue chariot!" he declared with fiery determination. "Our distortion quest awaits!"
"The what?" Tom asked, blinking in confusion.
Knuckles pointed with conviction towards the driveway.
"Your wheeled chariot of transport. The blue one."
Tom pinched the bridge of his nose with a sigh.
"You mean the truck, Knuckles. It's called a truck," he confirmed.
"Yes. That!" Knuckles declared, already heading for the exit.
Sonic placed a hand on the Tails's shoulder.
"You got a plan for this, pal?" he asked. "Because I'm all for running into trouble, but it'd be great if you knew what we're looking at."
Tails stood, holding his beeping device like it was a lifeline.
"If this is what I think it is—a growing rift—it could mean something's about to appear. Or worse, break through," he answered.
"Well, we'd better find out before it breaks anything else," Tom remarked, grabbing his keys from his pocket. "Come on, let's move!"
"You heard the man! I call shotgun!" Sonic exclaimed, zipping with speed to the exit, brushing past Knuckles.
"Shotgun? But you carry no weapons..." Knuckles replied, confused.
Sonic facepalmed but didn't slow down as he left the garage.
"Just get to the truck, Knucklehead!" he shouted back.
Meanwhile in Green Hills Town...
High above the quiet town of Green Hills, the sky rippled. A tear—shimmering and blue—split through the peaceful expanse without warning, spinning like a vortex. In an instant, it spat out Alice before sealing itself shut just as quickly as it had appeared.
The town below remained blissfully unaware.
Alice fell, her body spinning wildly as she tumbled through the air. She flailed for balance, teeth gritted as her instincts screamed, but there was no way to steady herself. This wasn't like before—she could feel it. Without the T Cells enhancing her, she was just mortal now, and a hard landing was coming fast.
"Come on, come on—!"
Her words were lost to the rush of wind.
With a loud crash, Alice plummeted into a narrow alleyway, falling straight into an old dumpster wedged between two buildings. She hit the garbage inside, the impact reverberating like a dull clang. Empty coffee cups, fast food wrappers, and a week's worth of trash exploded upward before settling again.
Silence.
The alley was empty. No witnesses. No bystanders. Just the faint hum of distant construction work somewhere down the street.
Alice lay sprawled awkwardly on top of a mound of garbage bags, breathing heavily. Her chest rose and fell as she tried to catch her breath, the bruises already forming beneath her suit.
"Shit…" she groaned, her voice a low rasp.
Something sharp stabbed her thigh through the bags, adding insult to injury. Wincing, Alice shifted her weight, muttering another curse under her breath. Her gaze lifted toward the sky, blue and cloudless—eerily calm. No portal. No trace of the rip she had fallen through.
She stared for a long moment, her brows knitting together as she struggled to process. It was gone. Just like that.
"…What the hell...?"
With effort, Alice pushed herself upright, grimacing as she swung her legs over the edge of the dumpster. Her black tactical bodysuit was smeared with streaks of grime, bits of garbage clinging to her like unwanted souvenirs. She ignored it, her mind racing as she scanned her surroundings.
The alley was quiet—almost too quiet. There were no B.O.W.s, no Umbrella operatives, no sounds of chaos or screaming. Just the warm, unnervingly normal breeze that drifted through the alley.
Alice stood, her boots hitting the ground with a dull thud. She dusted herself off, swiping away the garbage that clung to her. Alice's eyes narrowed as she checked the immediate area, instincts on full alert.
"This has to be another one of those simulations… like Tokyo" she muttered, rolling her shoulders to work out the lingering ache from her landing. "This.. this can't be real."
Slowly, she stepped out of the alleyway, her sharp gaze sweeping across the town. There were people—normal people—going about their day: construction workers repairing buildings, shopkeepers sweeping debris off sidewalks, families strolling down the street.
For a moment, Alice simply stood there, unsure of what to make of it all.
Her black bodysuit caught the attention of a passing teen, who stared as he nudged his friend, whispering loud enough for her to hear.
"Dude, they filming a new Marvel movie or something? Look at her—she's like the new Black Widow!"
Alice shot him a sharp glare, silencing him immediately.
Nearby, an older man leaned against the wall of a diner, speaking to his companion.
"Looks like G.U.N.'s in town. Y'know, checking out all the weird stuff since Robotnik's mess."
His friend nodded, eyes following Alice as she passed.
Alice ignored them, her expression set and unreadable, though her mind was reeling.
"G.U.N.? Robotnik? What the hell is this place?" she thought.
The last thing she remembered was fighting off the infected and going through the blue rift, seemingly seeing visions passing her by as she fell.
She began walking, her presence like a shadow moving through the sunlit streets. Around her, heads turned and whispers followed, but no one dared approach. She didn't stop to listen. She didn't stop at all.
As she walked, she passed the Sheriff's Station. And as she slowly walked past, Assistant Deputy Sheriff Wade Whipple exited, his shades on and ready to go on patrol—or get lunch, or get coffee. Who knew with Wade? But the unique thing with Wade was he had a scooter in one of his hands and on his head, he had a black helmet with a red light, and it made cop car sounds.
"Alright," he muttered to himself, adjusting his helmet. "Time to serve and protect... and maybe grab a donut or two."
As he headed towards the road to begin scooting, he looked down the street and saw the back of Alice. His suspicions were growing, slightly.
"Huh, she new in town or something?" he muttered. "Never seen her before."
The deputy began to follow, scooting on his scooter, the red light spinning, cop car sounds blaring.
Alice up ahead heard this and sighed, high on edge. She still didn't believe this place was real; it could be a trap, the infected or B. ready to strike at any minute through this façade.
Wade, trying to appear authoritative, called out as he approached.
"Excuse me, ma'am! Deputy Wade Wipple here. Mind if I ask you a few questions?"
Alice stopped in her tracks, her patience already hanging by a thread. Slowly, she turned, fixing the man with a hard, steely glare. But as she took him in—sunglasses perched like he was trying too hard, a shiny black helmet complete with a spinning red light, and a scooter—her expression flickered with visible confusion.
She blinked in utter confusion.
"You're… riding a scooter?" she asked flatly, her tone as sharp as her stare.
Wade grinned, seemingly immune to the judgment radiating off her. He puffed out his chest with pride, tapping the scooter's handlebars for emphasis.
"Yep! Eco-friendly, silent when I need it to be, and stylish when I don't," he announced, as if this explained everything. "You'd be surprised how much ground I can cover on this bad boy."
Alice stared at him, utterly blank for a beat. Finally, she shook her head slightly, deciding this was far from her biggest problem right now.
"What is this place?" she asked, her tone clipped.
Wade straightened up, adjusting his helmet as though it were a crown of authority.
"Green Hills, Montana ma'am! The Little Town with a Big Heart," he replied proudly, a hint of unnecessary bravado in his voice.
Alice's narrowed eyes darted around the quiet streets and quaint storefronts. Montana? That didn't add up.
"Montana? That can't be right." She remarked, her gaze grew sharper. "Where's the destruction? The chaos?"
Wade's enthusiasm faltered for a second as he scooted a little closer, his voice taking on a sympathetic tone.
"Oh, you just missed that," Wade said, waving a hand like he was discussing the weather. "Robotnik showed up a few days ago—big mech, lots of explosions, real mess. But, y'know, Sonic and the gang took care of it."
Alice's brow furrowed, confusion etched across her face.
"Robotnik? Sonic?" she muttered, the unfamiliar names rolling off her tongue like they didn't belong.
Wade tilted his head, a smirk tugging at his lips.
"You really aren't from around here, are you?" he mused.
"No," Alice replied sharply, her tone clipped. Her sharp gaze locked onto Wade as she took a step forward. "What about Umbrella? Is this place… some kind of safe haven?"
"Umbrella?" Wade repeated, dragging the word out like it was foreign to him. "Uh… ma'am, the only umbrellas we've got are over at the diner patio. You know, the big ones? Keeps the rain off people while they're eating pancakes."
Alice blinked, staring at him in disbelief. The sheer absurdity of his response momentarily stunned her into silence.
"You're joking," she said flatly, though there was no humor in her voice.
Wade shrugged, his grin awkward.
"I mean, I wish I was. I love a good joke. But nope. Just talking about patio furniture."
Alice's sharp gaze scanned his face, trying to decide if he was mocking her. He wasn't. That was the worst part.
"This doesn't make any sense..." she muttered, deep in thought. "What is going on?"
Wade scooted closer.
"Uh, ma'am, you okay?" he asked kindly. "You're not making much sense. Do you need me to call a paramedic or something?"
"No," Alice shot back quickly, her voice sharp and defensive. But despite her confident reply, her expression betrayed how unsettled she truly was.
"Uh… well, your leg says otherwise," Wade said, pointing to her leg.
Alice followed his gaze, looking down to see a jagged tear in her black bodysuit and blood trailing down her thigh—courtesy of the sharp piece of garbage in that dumpster. She blinked at the injury like it was an afterthought, barely worth noticing.
"Oh," she muttered, unimpressed. "I've had worse."
"Uh… that's… that's blood. Like… real, actual blood?" Wade asked, with his voice going high-pitched and wavering. His face was turning pale.
Alice raised an eyebrow, unamused.
"Yeah, I'm bleeding. What of it?" she questioned.
Wade let out a nervous, breathy laugh—"Heh… heh…"—before his knees wobbled dangerously.
"Oh no."
And down he went.
His knees buckled first, then the rest of him followed in what felt like slow motion. The scooter tipped over, with the red light on his helmet spinning a final, pathetic revolution before sputtering out with a sad womp-womp-womp.
Alice stared at him, unblinking and deadpan as Wade crumpled into an unconscious heap. She exhaled through her nose, pinching the bridge of it between her fingers as a small crowd began to gather at a safe distance.
"Did the deputy just faint?" someone whispered.
"Is that blood? Should we call someone?" another voice added nervously.
Alice rolled her eyes and looked down at Wade's unmoving form, her expression a mix of disbelief and exasperation.
"Are you fucking kidding me…" she muttered, her voice low and full of irritation.
The first chapter is done!
Bringing the dark, gritty Resident Evil universe into collision with the fun, heartwarming Sonic the Hedgehog movie universe was an exciting challenge. The multiverse truly holds endless surprises, and this mash-up is just the beginning.
The opening fight scene is taken straight from Resident Evil: Retribution, specifically when Alice is placed in the Tokyo Simulation. However, this timeline now diverges due to the rift, preventing her from meeting Ada Wong as originally seen in the film. Instead, Alice is thrust into a completely new and unpredictable world.
For the Sonic Movie Universe, this story takes place immediately after the events of Sonic 2. The group's original plan was to play baseball—or "Base of Ball" as Knuckles would call it—but, as with Alice, the rift alters their timeline. This diversion also opens up possibilities for future stories, like tying into the upcoming Knuckles TV series. Maybe we'll see another rift, and Knuckles could team up with another Resident Evil character? That's an idea for another time.
Easter Eggs and References:
Tails' Yellow Device and Backpack: The small yellow device Tails is working on is the same one he used to track Sonic's energy during the post-credit scene of Sonic 1 and when he first appeared in Sonic 2. His signature yellow backpack also makes a return.
The House of the Dead 4 Reference: A fun nod to SEGA, who own both Sonic the Hedgehog and House of the Dead.
IGN's "Too Much Water" Review: A playful reference to the infamous IGN review of Pokémon Omega Ruby and Alpha Sapphire, where the game was rated "7 out of 10" for "too much water." In this multiverse, Pokémon exists in Sonic's world, reinforced by Sonic 3's trailer where a girl asks Tails if he's Detective Pikachu.
Marvel in the Sonic Universe: Marvel movies tie into this universe's cultural landscape. The blend of pop culture gives the story a grounded, humorous charm.
Wade's Scooter and Helmet: Wade's unique "patrol gear" is pulled straight from Sonic 2, adding his signature brand of comedic charm to the chapter.
Alice's Visions During the Rift:
A fun detail inspired by Aragorn_II_Elessar's concept in the main story—where characters witness glimpses of other worlds as they fall through space-time. Each vision Alice saw references different movies and TV shows. Can you guess them all?
This was a joy to write, and a huge shout-out to Aragorn for the support and brainstorming that helped bring this concept to series is planned to be short, around 5-10 chapters, but who knows where the multiverse will take us?
Thank you to everyone for reading and supporting this crossover journey. On to the next chapter!