After running as far as her legs could carry her, Amy found herself at the only place that felt even remotely safe... her home.
Not the fake home in the woods. Not the carefully crafted illusion Eggman had built for her.
But her home.
The one she had bought with her own hard-earned money, working at various jobs, not mentioning being part of a hero team...
Ironically, it looked a lot like the house she had thought belonged to her family. The same cozy structure, the same warm colors… a manufactured sense of comfort.
Had she unconsciously modeled it after this lie? Or had the lie shaped even this part of her existence?
She didn't know.
She didn't care.
All she cared about was getting inside.
She sprinted up the steps, one hand clutched desperately over her chest, shielding the exposed compartment from view. If anyone saw her like this. If anyone saw what was underneath, they would panic. They would fear her.
But deep down, the truth gnawed at her.
It wasn't their fear she was trying to hide.
She was the one who was afraid.
Afraid of herself. Afraid of what she was. Afraid of what she wasn't.
Fumbling with the door, she barely managed to step inside before her strength gave out.
Her legs buckled and then she collapsed onto the floor.
The room around her was familiar. Those decorations, her furniture, the little trinkets she had collected over the years. But now, they felt foreign. Like they belonged to someone else.
Because maybe they did...
She curled up slightly, hugging herself. Her fingers trembled as they brushed against the open compartment on her chest.
A hollow space... a machine's core.
Not a heartbeat. Not her heartbeat.
She shut her eyes tight, trying to push the thought away.
"It's not true…" she whispered. "It can't be true…"
But her own voice betrayed her. It didn't waver from exhaustion or shake from sobs like it should have. It was too steady. Too precise.
Just like a machine...
Her breath hitched.
"Am I even breathing at all?" she pressed a hand against her stomach, waiting for the rise and fall—the natural rhythm of life. But now that she was thinking about it, she couldn't tell if it was real or just another programmed reaction.
Had she ever truly felt hungry? Truly felt tired?
Or was it all just… simulated?
Her fingers clenched into fists.
She had fought so many robots before, smashed so many of Eggman's creations without a second thought. But now, the thought turned her stomach.
"I was one of them all along..."
A choked sound escaped her throat—something between a sob and a broken laugh.
"...What am I supposed to do now?"
Knock! Knock!*
"Hey, Ames!"
That voice... His voice!
Amy's heart or whatever was in its place lurched.
No… not now. Not him!
Sonic was the last person she could face like this!
"P-Please don't come in!" she shouted, pressing her back against the door as if that alone could keep him away.
A brief silence. Then—
"Huh? Something happen?" Sonic asked, his casual tone tinged with confusion.
Amy squeezed her eyes shut, gripping her arms tightly. "N-No! I just… I just changed my mind! I can't see you, Sonic!" Her voice wavered. Was it real emotion, or just another pre-programmed reaction? She didn't know anymore.
A pause. Then, on the other side of the door "…Okay?"
He sounded unsure, thrown off by her sudden shift. Sonic wasn't used to Amy turning him away and neither was she... Did this thing ever happened before?
"Well… alright," he finally said, his voice light, but hesitant. "If you say so. Just seemed like you were really looking forward to today, y'know?"
Amy flinched. Today. Their date. The one thing she had wanted for so long. The one thing she thought was real.
But was it?
Her fingers curled into fists. "Sorry," she whispered, barely loud enough for him to hear.
Sonic was quiet for a moment. Then, in a more familiar tone, he chuckled. "Hey, no worries. We'll just hang out another time, alright?"
Another time...
Would there be another time?
Amy didn't answer.
The blue hedgehog lingered for a second longer, then sighed. "Alright, Ames. Take it easy, yeah?"
His footsteps faded as he jogged away, leaving her alone once more.
Amy slowly slid down to the floor, pressing her forehead against the door.
She had just turned Sonic away.
For the first time in her life… she had run from him.
And she hated it...
She hated turning Sonic away. Every fiber of her being screamed at her to throw open the door, chase after him, call his name... just like she always did.
But at this moment… she wasn't even sure if any of that was real.
She had spent so much time running after him, dreaming about him, loving him. But now?
...Now she didn't even know if those feelings were her own.
"Was it all just a lie?" she whispered, her voice hollow.
A carefully planted affection, a sappy excuse designed to make Sonic never question her? A cover story, crafted to keep her close to his side?
"Do I even love Sonic?" The words felt foreign in her mouth as she clenched her fists.
"Do I even care about Tails? About Cream? About any of them?" Her voice rose, shaking with something between rage and despair. "Is anything I thought or liked even real!?"
With a furious cry, she slammed her fists into the floor. The wood cracked beneath her knuckles, splintering under the force. The pain shot up her arms, raw and real, but she barely flinched.
She just stared at her shaking hands, at the damage they had done.
She felt the pain. She registered it.
But knew that beneath the torn gloves, beneath the soft-looking pink fur, there was no flesh, just metal.
Amy let out a bitter, broken laugh. "I'm a robot and I can feel pain? How stupid is that…"