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Chapter Text

It was the end of the day, and Sonic was tired.

He was so tired, so very utterly tired, that he could barely lift his feet to carry himself through his own front door. The air alone weighed down upon him, heavy in his lungs and heavy upon his skin, every breath needing more effort than it should to be taken. He was aware of the sluggish heartbeat in his chest, and he was aware of the burning of his eyeballs, as they struggled to keep him alive and aware of the world around him. He wasn't dying, no, he wasn't dying... but he was so utterly exhausted that he might as well be.

Unable to muster the energy to kick his shoes off or to even whisper a hello to the partner that was waiting for him, let alone call one out, the blue hedgehog pressed onwards. His eyes were sliding shut without his consent, the weight of the ocean seven times over upon them as he struggled to bring them open again at the end of each blink, and he could barely lift his hand to reach for the bedroom door. Faintly, the rattle of a doorknob that was only just barely being disturbed met his ears, and he didn't know when he had collapsed into bed, because just a moment before he'd been leaning far too heavily into a door that he was supposed to be opening.

Above him, beside him, his partner stood with a glass of water in hand. Sonic felt his body gently maneuvered into an upright position so he could drink without choking, and though the water was cool and refreshing, he felt no more invigorated by it than he would by a soothing autumn breeze. Not warm and lively summer, not frigid and bracing winter; this was the delicate and peaceful breath of autumn upon him. He took it in with each inhale, thick and heavy and yet so much lighter than his body, so much lighter than his bones that dragged him into the earth below him. He swallowed the last drop, and the glass was set on the bedside table with a quiet clink, and then his body was sinking so deeply into the sheets that he didn't know if it would ever truly come back to him, or if it would be lost amongst the quiet murmurs that he could listen to but could not understand.

A hard but infinitely gentle hand pressed against his cheek, a catastrophic thumb sliding delicately across his flesh, and he somehow leaned into the touch despite the weight blanketing him all around elsewhere. He felt his body shift under the command of an outside force, the mattress dipping low and drawing him deeper as someone else climbed into bed alongside him, his partner joining him despite the fact that he didn't usually do so. This was a special night, special for the warm and welcoming body by his side, special for the oh-so-ethereal care that flowed over him like a fog over the sea. No beam of light would pierce the calm and quiet veil of darkness surrounding him, no lighthouse would guide this drifting vessel home, for lost as he was, he had already arrived to the place he most craved to be.

He was in the arms of his beloved, floating amidst the soothing vibrations of an engine that was only heard through silence, and no exhaustion could hope to keep him from reaching this place at the end of the day.

Chapter Text

"Do you not worry that someday, someone better than you will surpass you and take your place? Are you not concerned that your friends and allies may prefer the newcomer to yourself because of it, that they may choose to replace you with them?"

Sonic laughed, leaning closer to Metal and throwing an arm over his sun-heated shoulders, undoubtedly uncomfortable but not enough so for him to retract his arm so soon after initiating contact. He was committed to the action he had taken, and the android knew it.

"Mets, we don't really replace people like that. Sure, friendships can end and sometimes new friends are a catalyst for it happening, but people can't be replaced like that. We're all individuals, we're all unique- you really can't replace someone because of it."

Metal glanced away, down to the earth below, and observed the blades of grass beneath them shifting in the wind.

"Individual you may be, the newcomer is better than you, in every way you can think of. They are faster than you, stronger than you, smarter than you- you and they are individuals, yes, but they are better than you. Why would you not be replaced?"

Still smiling, the darker blue hedgehog hummed, and he glanced at the other just in time to see him looking to the sky above them.

"Well, I'd say because of the memories and experiences we've shared. The newcomer might be 'better'-" here the hedgehog made air-quotes with his fingers as he spoke- "in some ways, but they wouldn't be me. They wouldn't have so many of the bonds that were forged in fire as mine were, and they wouldn't have the years of knowing the others behind them as I would. We'd be happy to welcome them, but they wouldn't replace any of us- they'd join us."

This wasn't the answer that he was looking for. But of course, it would be different for Sonic, it would be different for Sonic and his friends. They were friends, after all, not mere tools to be discarded when no longer useful. Not like he was.

Returning his gaze to the ground beneath them, Metal made certain that his voice was as unaffected as it could possibly be, as he responded with a quiet, "I see."

Though similar, his circumstances were different from those he had posed to Sonic, in hopes of gaining reassurance. It was a mistake to present the other altered variables, as they were, for even the slightest change to even one variable stood a good chance of invalidating the entire experiment... or, in his case, the entire search for personal security.

It was clear that he would have to go off of solid evidence rather than mere theories and hypotheticals, for him to gain the most accurate view of what possibilities lay ahead. No matter how little he liked the view he had already been given, it was the solid evidence that he had to rely on; the deactivated forms of his predecessors sealed away in storage like nothing more than curious relics of the past. He had to rely upon the same thing happening to him, to plan for it...

When he was replaced, he would be sealed away with the rest of them, left without power in a room that was dark and isolated and filled with failure.

"So, why do you ask? Normally you don't bring up topics like this- I mean, you do bring up thought-provoking topics a lot, but not really ones that have to do with friendship. Unless I'm missing something, in which case I'd like to be let in on the secret, thanks."

Sonic's voice went from curious at the beginning to dry at the end, with a hint of disapproval that was not aimed at him, but at the thought of secrets being kept. He knew well that his organic template despised secrecy, for how it wounded people and brought them misfortune, for its seeming lack of usefulness when it came to helping others. How could you help someone if they wanted to keep their pain a secret? That was how the hero thought, and Metal almost envied him, but secrets had been threaded throughout his being to the point that unraveling them would unravel the robot as well.

One secret being shared would not unravel the entire tapestry, however. He could share this one secret, this one tidbit of information that betrayed his eventual fate... if he could only bring himself to hope that doing so would change that fate.

At his prolonged silence, stretching on perhaps a bit too long for ordinary conversation, the hedgehog beside him leaned over to look him in the optics.

"Hey," his imperfect rival said, and was that concern in his voice? "You're not being replaced, are you?"

Just like that, the world seemed to stop moving around them.

He hadn't wanted to acknowledge it seriously, but he really did have to do so, if he wanted to avoid the end that his predecessors had met. He had to take action, he knew this from the moment he had made that discovery, and that was why he had gone to Sonic as quickly as he had. But with the possibility laid out before him like that, as words strung together outside of his processors by an individual other than himself, it felt like a much heavier threat than it did when it was only a well-supported-but-thus-far-unproven theory. If he was in possession of an organic physiology, then he most certainly would have stopped breathing, even...

"The probability is significant," he finally muttered in response, his the eyes on his monitor going flat in a display of his desire to disable his visual sensors. "The doctor has been... excited. Focused upon a new creation, one that he has stated may render my current specifications obsolete. And yesterday, he sent me to retrieve something for him, in a location that I had not been sent to before... he intended it to be a warning, I am certain."

The robot remained still, and Sonic remained quiet, and then he made to explain further.

"He would not have made a mistake like that, allowing me to bear witness to the ultimate fate of my inferior predecessors. They are still and unresponsive, kept in pristine shape save for the dust that has collected upon their forms, dull and lifeless and powerless..."

He paused, and listened to the wind playing with the leaves overhead, a grim certainty filling him at the fate that loomed before him.

"I am certain that he wanted me to observe the circumstances that will befall me once he is done with this new creation of his. It is just the sort of cruel thing that he would do."

Chapter Text

The concept of fusion was one that Neo had been contemplating for some time. 

Fusion, at the molecular level- a unification of mass and energy. Body and mind, physique and consciousness, brought together from two separate entities in order to form a new one. It was something that he could, theoretically, accomplish on a greater scale than he had already done... and it was something that he had planned to do again in the near future, for it was very likely what he needed to find the answers he was looking for.

Only one thing was left for him to collect in preparation of carrying out said plan, and that one thing was the participation of one Sonic the Hedgehog.

"Sonic."

At the sound of his modulated voice, the blue hedgehog turned to face him, wearing an inquisitive expression.

"Yeah, what's up Mets?"

A flicker of irritation passed through him at the nickname, taken note of and dismissed almost immediately, in favor of focusing on the subject at hand. He had taken the trouble to come this far already, and allowing himself to get sidetracked, while often a welcome and sometimes even enjoyable event, was not something that he wished to do at this time. Everything was ready, everything except for this one final detail, and he was going to see that said detail be taken care of.

"As a machine, I have been designed to simulate and emulate aspects of the organic existence, most notably those relating to the consciousness and the physical senses. However, my state of being remains fundamentally different from your own, and therefore I require your assistance in learning what it is to be organic."

As he spoke, the target of his primary objective gained an expression of understanding on his face, mixed with a happiness that seemed strange to him. It was likely a happiness at being chosen to help him, out of the various available candidates that he could have gone to, but there was honestly little possibility of him going to anyone else first. Being the template upon which his own existence was based, Sonic was the entity that would likely provide him the best chance of achieving his stated goal, due to their shared compatibility...

Not to mention, this fusion- as he was planning it to be- would be an intimate experience. The sharing of minds and bodies in their entirety could not be called anything less than that. It was unlikely that Sonic already understood what he was asking for, despite that look of happy understanding upon his face- he would have to clarify, before the other got any further down the metaphorical road of false assumptions, as he had a tendency of doing.

"I am asking if you would allow me to perform an act of fusion with you," he stated bluntly, just as the other had begun to open his mouth to respond to his previous statement. "The concept may be unfamiliar to you as I am proposing it, so allow me to explain."

He waited for a moment, and when Sonic nodded, continued on to explain his concept of fusion in as efficient a manner as possible.

"My ability to shapeshift comes to me by the manipulation of my own body at a molecular scale, the manipulation of the nanites that I am made of, and utilizing those nanites, I am able to manipulate the molecular structure of other entities that are in physical contact with me. When I first gained this current form of mine, that is how I kept Froggy and Chocola stored within myself safely, returning them unharmed once the data I needed had been gathered from our battles. I broke them down at the molecular level, temporarily made them a part of myself- that is the fusion I am speaking of."

Sonic stared at him for a few moments, before deciding to comment, "Wow, nothing's really easy with you, is it?"

"That depends upon your perception of what is easy," Neo responded immediately, "but also, that is a blatantly false statement. You find it easy to be in my presence, for example, as you have stated in the recent past. In addition, you also find it remarkably easy to enter my personal space at random intervals and 'cuddle' with-"

A gloved hand was raised, and he was cut off before he could finish that particular sentence, the other's cheeks appearing a bit more flushed than they had been moments before.

"Okay, yeah, hold up. Lemme think about this fusion thing."

Neo went quiet, not because he was finished speaking or because Sonic had told him to, but because it was simply the most efficient thing to do in the moment. Allowing the other to think without distraction would result in him getting his answer quicker- that was all.

"So," the blue hedgehog began after approximately twenty-four seconds had passed, "you're looking to understand organic existence by experiencing it, right?"

He nodded, and Sonic continued.

"I guess I can see why Froggy and Chocola wouldn't be enough to do that with, considering their size compared to yours. There wouldn't be enough fleshy organic body parts to get the experience from, right? So you need something bigger to fuse with. But then, wouldn't a wild animal like a cheetah or a bear or something be enough to get the experience?"

Rather than respond verbally and risk giving away how selective he was being, Neo shook his head, and allowed the other to come to his own conclusions.

"Okay. So, you're asking to fuse with me, because animals won't work. Before I agree, I have to ask- is this some weird way you're trying to be 'the real Sonic'? Because if it is, I'm disappointed in you, because you're your own person and you should know better."

With his eyes flattening in displeasure upon his monitor, the robot folded his arms.

"Of course not," he denied, "I am well aware that I am a unique entity, and that it is not possible for me to be what I used to define as 'the real Sonic'. Do not allow yourself to be sidetracked by such notions."

Sonic waved a hand, dismissing the idea, and proceeded to return to his previous contemplation. After approximately eight seconds had passed, he spoke up again, and Neo listened.

"Alright, I'm down. There'll be no permanent side effects?" The blue hedgehog waited until he nodded, and continued, "okay then, yeah, I'm down. It should be interesting to see things from your point of view."

A flash of apprehension darted through his systems, as he heard the other agree so easily to his proposal. He wondered if Sonic was truly aware of how serious it was that his being was going to be altered at the molecular level, of how much control the robot was going to have over his existence. At the same time though, those notions were quickly set aside, for why should it matter whether Sonic understood this proposal or not? He had agreed to it, and that was the important thing. Neo was getting what he wanted.

"I will endeavor to make our fusion as painless as possible," he muttered, as he stepped forward to enter his target's personal space. "You may feel the sensation commonly referred to as 'pins and needles', however, as our systems are altered to be compatible with the other's."

An artificial hand made contact with an organic chest, and to the ordinary eye, appeared to melt into a sort of fluid, silvery goo. The blue hedgehog shuddered at the odd sensation, but didn't move away, and Neo took that as the last confirmation he needed. Verbal, physical, mental- three was a good number for such things to come in.

Without hesitation, the robot proceeded to carry out the process of fusion as he had planned to, and the world around them seemed to shift as two became one.

Chapter Text

"Do you not know that a man is not dead while his name is still being spoken?"

Sonic gazed down upon the city below, from the top of a building rather than the from the streets themselves as he would prefer to. It was a necessity, however, with the situation that now faced him. The streets were no longer safe for him to roam.

Doctor Ivo 'Eggman' Robotnik was dead, but the people still whispered his name.

He remembered the man's death clearly- caught in the explosion of one of his own most vile creations, an orbital station designed to somehow mass-roboticize the inhabitants of the world. It was a miracle that Sonic and his friends had escaped just minutes before, a miracle that they were still alive, but then, wasn't it always?

The only difference was that in this victory, and in Eggman's death, they had also lost. In the final explosion, the roboticization had commenced- half of the world was affected. He'd been horrified when he first encountered someone that was fully roboticized, and discovered that they were still conscious- without Eggman to control them, they were fully in control of themselves, and some of them...

A lot of them liked it.

People who had been terminally ill no longer had to worry about the diseases ravaging their bodies. Children were laughing as they ran into the streets without fear of being harmed by the vehicles coming their way. Part of him wanted to be happy that they'd found such positivity in their circumstances brought about by his partial failure, but...

That had been a long time ago, though. He had adapted to this strange new world, where the Doctor was dead and where threats to the world came mostly from ancient and alien beings such as Chaos and Black Doom, but things kept changing... he was no longer a hero.

It wasn't safe for him on the streets anymore, because the shadow of Robotnik still loomed over him, in the whispers of those who had been saved by the man's last and most diabolical plan.

Chapter Text

"You told me that you would be there for me," he reminded the other, calmly and gently and very much in control of himself, despite the turmoil that was stirring within him at the sight of his complement standing in his way once again.

Green eyes turned away from him, scanning the environment and the damage that had been wrought upon it, the fire and the rubble and the shattered glass upon the pavement. The building behind him had been torn in two, cleaved apart in the fight he had won. He still had flecks of rusted steel upon his artificial hands, tiny fragments that caught the light of the setting sun and sparkled within it... they were what those emerald eyes settled upon once they returned to him, the fluids stained with rust dripping down to the ground below.

"I did, didn't I," the hedgehog before him remarked quietly, gloved hands clenched into fists, eyes remaining hard as they had been since the beginning of this encounter. The sight of these things gave him pause, discomfort slowly growing within his systems. "Before you did this. Before you decided to kill my friends."

"They are not dead-"

"They're not alive either!" He was cut off before he could finish, his complement shouting and gritting his teeth in rage. "You took away their freedom, just like Eggman was trying to take away yours, and you have the gall to stand there and tell me that you didn't kill them? Can they even come back from where you've put them?"

The robot was still for several moments, his chest engine rumbling quietly in the silence of the sleeping city.

"You promised me that you would stay by my side." The words were spoken almost unwillingly, as he knew they were not what Sonic wanted to hear- but they were the most pressing words that he could think of, the most pressing concern weighing down upon him.

The hedgehog before him narrowed his eyes, and he quietly realized that in his victory, he had lost.

"That was when you were worth staying for."

Chapter Text

Sonic entered the building alone, displaying a confidence that both would and had shaken these people before. His shoulders were straight, his posture was relaxed, and his eyes were almost deadly with the toxic gleam he had given them. These people- these people who had hurt his friends, who had almost forgotten how to be people- would not be tricking or forcing him into subservience like they had been wanting to ever since they had heard his name and Eggman's spoken in the same sentence.

"Sonic the Hedgehog, it's good to see you."

The man before him smiled down at him, a cold smile that was just as fake as the false Chaos Emeralds that had helped him go Dark, and he returned the smile with a cocky smirk of his own.

"I dunno if I can say the same, but hey, you've got better hospitality this time! Looks like you can at least learn from your mistakes."

His casual jibe did not go unnoticed, and he wouldn't have expected it to- not by the leader of G.U.N., anyways. As much as he disliked the man, there was no denying that he had to be at least somewhat intelligent to handle all the moving pieces of such a big organization the way he did.

"Of course," he was given a response. "We here at G.U.N. strive to be the best we can be, for the sake of everyone in this world. We would not still be around if we were incapable of handling threats, or incapable of learning from our past to do so."

His cocky smirk turned into a cold smile that matched the man's own, and then he laughed, throwing a gloved hand behind his head to smooth down the quills that were wanting to puff up with his hatred of this place.

"Naturally. So, how about we get this show on the road then, huh? You called me here, for what exactly?"

The leader of G.U.N. turned and gestured towards a nearby door, one that was already held open by an underling that looked a bit nervous. 

"Right this way, Mr. Hedgehog. We have recently come to possess an... object that may be of interest to you."

He gave the underling a more genuine smile as he passed by- they weren't to blame for their boss's fuckups- and walked alongside the leader of G.U.N. down the hallway beyond.

"What makes you so sure I'd find this object interesting enough to call me in for it? If it's just chilidogs, I'm afraid I'll have to decline- bad food here, no offense."

He meant all the offense. All of it. They'd poisoned him with his favorite food back when they thought he was a criminal, and he wasn't forgiving them for it.

"Oh, you'll see why soon enough. We've done you a favor, really. All that's left is for you to say 'thank you' and to take it on your merry way."

Green eyes slid over to the Commander's, sharp and dangerous, even as their owner kept his easygoing demeanor and his relaxed posture.

"Really? And it won't 'accidentally' blow up in my face, or jump from my helicopter while I'm trying to take- oh, wait, I don't have a helicopter. Whoops."

The man beside him was all sharp edges and cold smiles, and it was easy to imagine darkness behind those teeth, no matter how made of flesh he might be. He stopped beside a door that had no handles, and entered a code into the keypad beside it.

"No, nothing like that could possibly occur these days. We were careful, very careful, and we have learned from our mistakes. Come on in now, and see what we have for you."

Sonic entered the room, his mind tracing the path he'd be taking back to the exit of the building, just in case this turned out to be a trap. What he saw there brought him up short-  the first sign of weakness he'd displayed here.

Metal was standing in the middle of the room, looking at him with an eerily blank gaze.

"Greetings," the robot stated in a monotone, "how may I best be of service to you?"

Almost whispering from the horror that was trying to escape his now-tenuous grasp, he asked the man beside him, "What did you do to him?"

The Commander's smile grew colder, and his eyes grew brighter with a terrible satisfaction, as he responded to the question just as quietly.

"Nothing that it didn't deserve."

Chapter Text

Neo gazed upon the target of his primary objective, his artificial lips curving up into a slight smile as he observed every last detail surrounding him. His monitor glowed with delight at what he had accomplished, the hedgehog before him exhaling unsteadily, staring back at him with an expression as blank as an unwritten program. There was just so much potential there... he was more than satisfied.

"Exquisite," he murmured quietly, only for the ears of the individual that was chained to the wall before him. "Perhaps I may even go as far as to call this vision divine. My creator is going to be so jealous when he sees you here, the guest of honor at my invitation."

Green eyes, hard and unflinching, did not look away as his smile grew wider. He felt his internal temperature rising a bit with every second he stared at the other, and his fans kicked into higher action once that temperature reached a certain threshold, the sound of whirring filling their little corner of the ballroom. Decorations of great taste surrounded them, velvet curtains and wrought iron furniture placed carefully throughout the room, and square light panels in the floor beneath them casting an intriguing glow upon their forms.

"I won't stay here forever," the hedgehog growled, low in volume as though to practice for when the party began. The crimson eyes upon Neo's monitor emulated a half-lidded expression at the sound of it, his excitement burning slowly throughout his form like embers burning through incense.

"You will stay here tonight, however, if you want your friends to be returned to you unharmed. You will stay here tonight, and you will not cause trouble, and you will continue to look pretty in those chains I have given you. I want everyone in the underworld to see just how much I own you."

A blue ear twitched at the danger in his voice, the threat he posed to those that his target cared about, and organic lungs breathed steadily in and out. A remarkable display of self control...

They would see if it lasted throughout the night.

Chapter Text

Slowly, he looked down at the metal girder stuck fast in his torso, piercing directly through the center of his chest engine. Warning notifications were already popping up in his systems by the tens, internal alarms were blaring, and the displayed eyes upon his monitor were fizzled out into jagged lines of both real and simulated pain. This was nothing more than he had expected, when he had come to terms with the purpose for his existence, this was nothing more than what he 'deserved'.

"And here I thought we were getting along," he whispered, his 'voice' filled with static as he forced his damaged speakers to make sound. Then, he fell limp like a puppet that had been cut from its strings, as his power levels dropped below the threshold required to maintain his motor systems.

"I- I'm sorry," his target choked on his words, gloved hands catching him before he hit the ground. "I'm so sorry, and I love you, but I had to. I had to, you get that, right? I couldn't... I love you, and I didn't want this, but you get it, right?"

He felt his systems shutting down one by one as his emergency protocols were activated and carried out to the best of his body's capabilities, and pushed those that would shut down his audiovisual sensors and his vocal functions to the end of the queue, or as close as he could push them to that.

"Of course," his damaged speakers made it sound like he was gasping, and with metal piercing through his chest as it was, he found it an appropriate affection for his 'voice' to have. "I never expected mercy from you. I knew that my final defeat at your hands was inescapable. All of my calculations pointed to this very outcome, so I never expected you to defy them, not for this."

"I- you- no, you can't-"

He interrupted his complement's distressed words, with more of his own that he needed to say.

"You have given me what I expected, Sonic, but you have also given me so much more. You may think you have betrayed me, but you never broke my trust- I was trusting you to bring us to this conclusion, and you have done so admirably, with more strength than I could have ever possessed in your place..."

His audio sensors then shut down, and he saw his complement's mouth moving, but failed to understand what was being said to him. It didn't matter though, for he could continue speaking, and there were only a few more words that he had to say... only twenty-two more words that he had to say.

"Well done, Sonic... you have defeated me. I will never be a threat to you and yours again..."

The last things he saw before his visual sensors cut off were the tears dripping down his target's cheeks, but he still had four more words to say, and the systems responsible for his audible speech were only just beginning to shut down.

"Smile," he commanded, through the void that was slowly overcoming his awareness. "Victory is yours."

Metal had failed to complete his primary objective for the last time.

Chapter Text

Suffocating... that's what this was.

Finally alone in his charging bay, Metal Sonic locked the door behind himself as he almost desperately activated the release mechanism of his chestplate, watching as a flood of green burst free from the tight confines it had previously been trapped in. Fuelled by the Chaos Energy that partially powered his systems, vines of ivy spilled out of his torso and wrapped almost independently around his limbs, a unique feature of the disease that he, as a robot, should be utterly immune to contracting. He should be immune, but he possessed Chaos Energy and he possessed emotions, and those were apparently the only two physiological prerequisites for what he was suffering from at this time.

He struggled with the 'flower' that had been given life in his cooling system, the parasitic plant that was draining him of his vitality in a way that would have killed an organic body by now, the living symptom of the Hanahaki Disease that he had been keeping to himself for months now.

These vines of ivy creeping over his body, delicately intertwining with his hardware and seeping through whatever openings they could find, wrapped around him in an embrace that he would much rather be receiving from someone else. They were an unwelcome intrusion to his normal state of being, weighing down upon him in a way that felt much heavier than the numerical values being recorded by his sensors. His fans were clogged up again, his systems remaining at a raised temperature even as he went about cutting them loose; something that had quickly become a common performance due to his inability to get rid of them permanently.

He did know how to get rid of them permanently, though. There were even multiple options available to him, no matter how incredibly low the odds of success were for one of them, no matter how little chance there was that his target returned his feelings. He could either play with those low odds and confess to the other just how much he cared for him, this Chaos Energy ailment clearing up on the revelation that his feelings were not unrequited, or he could go with the option that possessed a much higher chance of success and simply delete these emotions from his systems. If he deleted his emotions, then they would inevitably return to him as he learned to feel them again, but for some time before then this ailment would be cured, and he just might be able to take steps to avoid contracting it ever again... but neither of these options were currently acceptable to him.

He did not want to rid himself of these vital feelings of his, but he had hard evidence suggesting that Sonic did not return them, and so he was unable to do anything but endure the disease that now plagued his systems.

Clippings of dark and vibrant green flora fell to the floor beneath him, where they would later be swept up from and incinerated, as he unhappily extracted the living symptoms of this disease from his insides. His casing was wide open for anyone to see the hardware within, an unavoidable risk to be taken if he wanted to maintain an acceptable level of functionality, for the removal of this ivy from his systems was necessary if he wanted to keep himself online and undamaged. He had already let it grow unchecked for far too long now, an entire week of time spent in the company of his precious complement, with no means of performing this maintenance upon himself without another entity discovering it. This was the first hour that he had been alone after all that time, the first hour in which he could free himself of the vines intertwined with his wires and circuitry, and it was as stressful as it was relieving to finally do so.

The ivy crept freely around his neck, exerting a physical pressure no more significant than the weight of a bird perched upon a live wire, but he felt it as though it were a hand actively seeking to strangle the life from this body that was far from organic. This simulated sensation was unpleasant, but he could not say that it was inappropriate, given how thoroughly intertwined the flora was with his systems. It originated from his cooling system, yes, but it had long since spread throughout his entire torso, and the force it exerted simply by existing was enough to trigger his physical sensation replication subroutines.

He felt as though he was suffocating, as much as a machine possibly could, with his first and most important data model replicating the organic sensation of lungs burning as his hardware was strangled by the vines around it.

The quiet snick, snick, snick of scissor-like blades slicing through thick ivy sounded throughout the otherwise silent room that the android was in, continuing at a steady pace even as he carefully maneuvered his wiring and circuitry out of the way whenever possible, in order to avoid cutting into any of it. Long tendrils fell to the floor, becoming still and lifeless in the moment they were separated from his core, and every dropped vine was an additional measure of freedom returned to him. His fans whirred into action as they were cleared of the blockage, immediately cooling his systems and acting as a breath of relief after how long they had been clogged up, the suffocating weight upon him lifting as the numerical quantity of the vines upon the floor grew higher. He had gone too long without performing this maintenance, and it was such an incredible relief to return to a state of being that had previously been ordinary for him, unfettered by the living chains binding him to a reality to fantastical to be true.

Eventually, the pile of flora upon the ground was as large as it was going to get, with as much of the ivy pruned from his systems as was physically possible. He had cut the living symptom of his disease down to its roots, those seedlings buried deep beyond reach within his cooling system, fed by the Chaos Energy that partially fuelled his body. It would regrow as time went by, forcing him to recharge more often as it drained his vitality, but it would not kill him unless he allowed it to. It would not kill him as long as he was careful, for he could not be suffocated and he could not bleed out, the only true threats it posed being the drainage of his power and the severance of his circuitry.

He had the whole of his precious complement's lifetime to find a moment in which he could confess, for he could endure this suffering, as long as he was careful about it.

Chapter Text

It wasn't like he hadn't seen this day coming.

For all this should have been a routine adventure, which was an oxymoron if he'd ever heard one, things had gone sideways just a little bit after the beginning. During their exploration of the supposedly haunted mansion, one by one his friends had seen... something, in the mist that rolled inside through the damaged walls and the drafty windows. It wasn't even particularly aimed at him, from what he could tell, but for some reason whatever they saw made them watch him. Stare at him. Whisper behind his back about him...

He waited to see something like they had, but nothing ever came, and their eyes slowly turned wary and hard as they murmured unintelligible things over the readings that his brother was getting.

The deeper they explored the mansion, the thinner the mist became, so he couldn't blame it completely for what they did later on. He could blame it and the strange energy inside it for kickstarting the process, but when they betrayed him, there was none of the mist present to be influencing them. It was entirely their choice to leave him, entirely their choice to turn their backs on him and potentially sentence him to death-

Maybe they had only ever tolerated his obnoxious presence because he had never really failed to win, before. And now that he had failed... now that he had fallen prey to the entity residing in this place, a broken leg keeping him from outrunning whatever came his way... Of course, they'd learned from him all these years, they were strong themselves and didn't need him to solve their problems anymore.

He tried not to let the pain show on his face as they slammed the door behind them and left him to die, turning to face the one who had drawn them all here in the first place, the blue Chaos Emerald in their hand and glowing softly in the dim lighting.

"Your allies... why did they leave you?"

The voice of the figure behind what they had come to this mansion to investigate was soft, almost gentle, as they expressed their curiosity. He wondered if they were just messing with him, if they knew what his friends had seen in the mist or had maybe been behind those visions, but the gut feeling welling up inside him told him that they couldn't have. This voice, for how different it was in quieter volumes and polite discussion, was familiar nonetheless, and he knew that this person didn't have the ability to mess with people's minds like that.

"Maybe they know I don't need them to beat you again," Sonic said, with a distinctly bitter sort of confidence in his own voice. "Even with a broken leg. Maybe they're closing up the place right now, so you can't escape back to Eggman once you're down."

The figure stared at him, crimson eyes glowing softly along with the blue Chaos Emerald in hand, and he watched the metal of their body catch and reflect the light.

"Those are not lies in worded form, for they are uncertainties, but the implications that you are making are not the truth. They looked at you with fear, and with hope, and with distrust. It seems as though they want you to lose here, and to face the unpleasant consequences of doing so directly. Why is that?"

Grimacing, the hedgehog leaned on the plank of wood he'd been using as a crutch, his gaze drawn down to the messy splint that Tails had made from the damaged bed in a room not far from this one. If he was entirely honest with himself, he knew that the mansion and the visions it had given them was not all they needed to leave him like this. The seeds of suspicion had been planted months ago, and he had nurtured it with his typical reckless behavior and his refusal to talk of his past before he had met them. They had dropped the questions, but then there was a gap in the relationships between him and them, and he knew this rapidly growing gap was the real reason they'd left.

"They stopped trusting me a long time ago," he answered, not quite sure why he was doing so, to the person who had tried to kill him- multiple times- of all people. "Maybe they never really did. I don't really blame them though, you of all people should know how hate-able I am-"

The robot before him cocked his head sharply, cutting off what he was saying without a single word of his own, and Sonic fell silent as he waited for him to respond.

"It is relevant for you to know that I did not hate you, specifically, but what you represented. Freedom, expression, sense of self- I was not intended to experience such things in their entirety, but having been programmed with your personality as the base of my own, I wanted those things almost more than I wanted anything else. Perhaps if I killed you as I believed I had been intended to, then I would be able to obtain them without the shackles of the Doctor's will over my own, but eventually I learned that the man valued my continued service more than he valued your death."

It was now his turn to stare at the other, green eyes slightly wider than they'd been before.

"I have been able to trace every single one of my losses to you back to an action that the Doctor had taken, or back to an order than he had given, that I previously mistook for incompetence and organic error. The truth was, he never wanted me to kill you, no matter how he may have yelled and ranted and punished me for failing to do so. My primary objective specifically contains the word 'neutralize', not 'destroy' or 'kill' or any other common synonym to murder. I was created to neutralize you, to balance out the chaos you bring to the world with order and structure, to be your equal opposite... the immovable object to your unstoppable force."

Metal gazed down at the Chaos Emerald in his hand, his focus lingering there for a few moments, before he returned to looking at Sonic directly.

"Even immovable objects may erode, however, and even unstoppable forces may be redirected. I have been worn down over time, my edges blunted and my sharpness dulled, and the discovery of my true purpose has... changed me. My purpose was never what I thought it was, and what I believed it to be was merely a fabrication to maintain my immovability. Likewise, you have not always ended up where it was you intended to go- either the Doctor, or your friends, or other entities beyond your reach have caused you to do things that you would not otherwise have done. Perhaps that is what you call friendship, and perhaps that is what you call obligation, but you have done things that you did not want to do, even though you were unstoppable."

Leaning more into his crutch, Sonic glanced down at his broken leg, internally grimacing. Not very unstoppable now, was he? The robot was right.

"So I'm not unstoppable anymore, and you're not immovable anymore. What happens now? Why are you telling me these things?"

He didn't try to argue as he would have otherwise, for his friends had abandoned him to die, and if Metal had been here to fight him, they would have already started doing so by now. And he would have probably lost, or he would have won and died in the end, and his friends knew this. They knew how evenly matched he and Metal were when he was in tip-top shape, and they knew he had a broken leg and they had seen the Chaos Emerald in Metal's hand as they left... it was possible that they didn't want him to survive, because of the threat he posed to them otherwise, with his secrets and his strength and his...everything, really.

His metallic reflection looked at him, visibly taking note of his agitation, and his internal grimace became a little bit external as he failed to stuff it down and keep it to himself.

"I believe," the robot began carefully, "that we are in a unique situation right now. We have never spoken to one another so candidly before, and we have not known for certain the true faces of our allies until recently. If we were to enter combat and crawl our separate ways afterwards, our allies would welcome us back with open arms as though they had never left us, but the wariness and the suspicion and the fear of our power would remain."

The robot paused for a moment there, and when Sonic simply continued listening, went on to state a proposal that had him blinking in surprise.

"However, the two of us together may experience differently. We will not fear each other, for we are of equal strength. We will not hate each other, for we have no more reason to do so. We will not suspect each other, for we understand one another. It is a lot to ask from either of us, to leave the security that we possess with our present allies, but it may be worth the risk to have an ally that is... true."

Metal held out an artificial hand, his open palm facing upwards, as the hand with the Chaos Emerald in it hung limp at his side.

"Join me," he asked- almost pleaded, really- with hints of emotion in his voice that the hedgehog couldn't entirely identify. "Our states of existence are not solitary, and we should not have to experience them as such- we should not be alone as we are now. We may rely upon each other, if not on the people who claim to be our allies, or on the rest of the world. We may rest easy knowing that we have at least one person who we may trust, to help us when we need it without any ulterior motives, and to stand up for us and protect us when we are not capable of protecting ourselves..."

"We who match one another-" the robot spoke softly again- "we will not be torn apart by anyone outside of ourselves, and we will not tear ourselves apart... for we know what it is to be feared and mistrusted and alone, and we will not want to go back to being such, when we have experienced the care that we will have for each other."

Sonic felt a weight in his chest as he listened to Metal, and licked his lips that had gone dry, his restless energy grounded and drained away by what felt like a genuine plea from the other. What was being asked of him... it was true that he was alone, even with his friends, because they didn't really trust him anymore. Little things, inconsequential things, things that he couldn't screw up for them- that was all they trusted him with now, and compared to how close he had been with them before, it hurt. It wasn't real trust anymore. It wasn't real friendship anymore.

He blinked back the tears that were threatening to well up in his eyes, as he wondered when his found family had truly abandoned him, and just how long ago it was that they had really been more than just 'allies' under the pretense of more.

"Alright," he whispered, reaching out with his free hand to take the empty one before him and squeeze. "Let's do it. Let's be friends... real friends."

The sharp edge of Metal's displayed eyes softened, and the hedgehog gave him a watery smile, as the Chaos Emerald glowed between them. He found himself pulled in close, not quite into a hug, but more into a carry, as the robot carefully picked him up without jostling his broken leg too much.

"We cannot heal that for you here, for the energy of this place consumes that of chaos. I have a-" Metal paused, his voice still on the quieter side- "place of residence that we may heal you in safely. All that is needed is a successful evasion of our former allies, which considering what we are capable of, should be the part of tonight that is easiest for us."

Sonic nodded, gently taking the Chaos Emerald to make it easier for the robot to hold him, and keeping it between them so that both of them may use it if they had to.

"Sounds good to me," he replied, still quiet himself but a bit louder than before. "I call dibs on the couch."

An amused glance was sent his way, and his watery smile became a grin, as the two of them began to leave the mansion.

"What if there is no couch to call dibs on?"

"Then I'll wonder how you can call it a 'place of residence,'" he teased, "if it's missing such a vital piece of homes everywhere."

As they quietly bantered with one another, the mansion was left empty behind them, their departure no more than a streak of blue and red and gold in the night sky.

Chapter Text

Metal didn't know what possessed him to run to his quarters after he'd been beaten, stumbling on a leg that was most likely broken, blood dripping down his limbs and being washed away in the rain and sea.

He didn't know what to call the emotions that urged him to do something that wasn't even helpful, when his enemies were already escaping, when his father was watching from the next ship over. Insanity, perhaps, but insanity was defined as doing the same thing while expecting different results. This was something different he was doing, something he had never done before, perhaps the least insane thing he'd ever done in his existence... he was creating a black swan, an unpredictable event with potentially grave consequences in store for him.

His saltwater-soaked, bloodstained hands gripped tight onto his harp guitar, and then he was running again, fire lancing up his leg with every broken step he took. He passed by the downed robots that made up his crew, passed by the hundreds of artificial eyes watching him and reporting his every move to his father, panic bubbling up in his chest as he saw his crew beginning to turn towards him.

"The next time I see you with that thing, I'll destroy it... You hear me? Leave the time-wasting activities to your target, maybe then you'll be good enough to beat him."

His father was watching him. His father was going to destroy the one solace he had left on this ship... he couldn't stop moving. He had to keep going, had to chase after this desperation in his heart, had to let loose the cry that was building up in his soul. This was it. This was his breaking point.

All he had to do was make sure he was heard.

Despite his injured leg, despite his unsteady footing, the pale blue hedgehog managed to dodge the artificial hands reaching for him. He kept running, kept moving towards his destination, towards the communications room that he would use to be heard by someone other than his father. His chest heaved as he ran across the open deck of the ship, thunder sounding overhead and rain pouring down with a vengeance, striking his wounds painfully as though to punish him for his defiance.

The door to his destination was hastily shoved open, and to his relief, the room was empty of any robots. The one stationed here must have been drawn into the fighting- but that didn't matter now. What mattered was how heavily he slammed the door shut, what mattered was how securely he locked and barricaded himself in here, what mattered was how his hands flew across the control panel and opened a broadcast to all frequencies and nearby speakers he could access. The room was silent around him as he did so to the best of his abilities, and as he fell back into the chair in the middle of the room, it seemed as though the world was waiting for him.

It seemed as though the world was holding its breath, as he whispered, "I hate you," over the distant pounding of robotic fists upon the door.. and then, began.

His fingers slid over the strings of his harp guitar, the sound distorted by how they were wet, but it was not distorted enough to take away from the message he was trying to convey. If anything, the darker tones only added to it, as he began to play a slow and painful song from the heart, a tragedy in the making. This beloved instrument was going to be destroyed, and then he would most likely follow soon afterwards. He had to make this rebellion count, or else everything he did today would have been in vain, every 'mistake' he'd made just so his enemies could regain ground... he had to make this count.

"New blood joins this earth, and quickly he's subdued-"

His voice was weaker than it usually was, rough with the pain lancing throughout his body, but it was being heard.

"Through constant pained disgrace, the young boy learns their rules! With time the child draws in, this whipping boy done wrong-"

The communications display and the speakers he heard through the barricades gave him this one relief, that he was live, that he was still alive... and people were listening.

"Deprived of all his thoughts, the young man struggles on and on he's known, ooh, a vow unto his own, that never from this day, his will they'll take awaaay!"

The pounding on the door grew louder, loud enough to be heard in the broadcast, but the barricades were holding. He played louder than before to drown it out, sitting up and breathing in deep, the thunder of his heartbeat greater than that of the storm overhead. He could barely hear himself think, but then, could he really call this thinking? No, he didn't think so, not when thinking was what kept him from doing such suicidal things as this.

"What I've felt, what I've known, never shined through in what I've shown!"

He could see his father approaching through the camera feed, through the hundreds of eyes locked upon the door of the room he was in, crossing the gap between their ships and landing heavily upon the deck.

"Never be, never see, won't see what might have been! What I've felt, what I've known-"

Robots were physically hauled away, as the man made his way through-

"-never shined through in what I've shown! Never free, never meee! So I dub thee 'Unforgiven'!"

Onwards Metal played his song, rising from his chair and leaning towards the mic, as the light of a plasma cutter began to fizzle behind him. The shadow he cast upon the wall and panel before him was unsteady and stiff, his movements more like twitches than anything else, all except for the fingers upon the guitar. His fingers moved as smoothly as he could possibly make them, knowing that this song would very likely be his last... he could almost feel the reaper looming over his shoulder.

"Never free, never meee! So I dub thee 'Unforgiven'!"

The door was finally sliced through, and the bloodied hedgehog whirled around desperately, knocking back into the communications panel and into the mic upon it. He didn't stop playing though, didn't stop singing as the barricade fell-

"You labeled me, I'll label you!"

A gunshot rang out in the small room, and fire burned through his right hand, his harp guitar shattering beneath it. He couldn't stop the desolate cry that escaped his throat at the pain, at the smoking gun in his father's hand and at the empty hand which reached for the neck of his instrument to finish the job, and he struggled to pull it back with the hand he still had working.

"So I dub thee-"

Another gunshot sounded, and his other hand went down, another scream sounding over the radio and the speakers upon the ship. The physical pain wasn't entirely why he was screaming, though... It was the sight of his harp guitar being broken to bits, the strings shredded beneath metal claws and the wood crushed into chips within an unforgiving grip, the death of his one and only source of solace within the hell that was this ship. He'd known it was going to happen, when this hysterical urge had come over him, when he had finally snapped beneath the pressure of being his father's 'greatest creation'. He'd known this black swan of his would never end in his favor... how could it hurt so much when he knew it was going to happen?

"-'Unforgiven'," was the last word he sang over the air, so painfully quiet that it almost wasn't heard, as his creator looked down upon him with contempt. He saw murder in those eyes, and not a word needed to be spoken, as the man snapped his fingers.

Dozens of robotic arms closed in around him all at once, dozens of artificial hands reaching for him and taking hold of him, and dragging him away. The panic that had been festering in his lungs began to rise up once again, as he lost sight of the world around him, buried within the broken bodies of his silent crew. Thrashing did nothing to loosen the grips they had upon him. Screaming was muffled by their bodies and drowned out by the storm overhead. He was being taken away, and he knew that look in his father's eyes... he knew what happened to those who defied the man for the last time.

"NooooooOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO-!"

This scream was the last that escaped his throat, before the mass of broken robots holding him tipped down over the edge of the ship, and fell into the waves below.

Chapter Text

"You gave up on me!"

The words tore themselves free of his throat, slashing across those who heard them, like blood splattering upon the floor. His glowing eyes- vibrant green irises with black sclera, the former swirling with the pinkish-purple power of the Ruby- were filling with tears, his vision blurring as he stared at those he had called his friends.

"That's not true," Knuckles responded firmly, "Tails-"

He snarled, taking an aggressive step forward as his hands clenched into fists, the movement causing some of the metallic parts of this body to screech painfully beneath him. He'd been damaged from the fight, but they were healing- Neo was focusing on repairing the damage, encouraging him to stay strong, to say what he needed to say- and it wouldn't be long until they were back in prime condition again.

"Don't take credit for actions that aren't your own," he hissed. "Tails was the only one who kept looking for me. Tails was the only one who didn't write me off as dead within the first three weeks I'd been gone. You- You have no right to pretend that you had any part in his faith in me."

"You gave up on me," he repeated, this time in something approaching a whisper. "All of you, you just... gave up on me. And I can't understand why. I never gave up on any of you, I never... I always believed in you. But you took one look at my unconscious body and decided, 'yep, he's dead!' You didn't believe Tails when he said I was still breathing. You didn't... believe in me. And I just can't understand it. I can't understand why."

The tears began to trickle down his cheeks, the air raw and ragged in his throat, his lungs drawing breath at a pace he knew was only steady because of Neo. If he didn't have the steadiness of the other grounding him, if he wasn't fused with his former enemy, he would have probably been hyperventilating by now.

"Do I look like the kind of person who dies?" He weakly joked, a single sob working its way out of his throat soon after. "I don't, and that's just it, isn't it? You all saw me as a hero before anything else. You saw me as unbeatable. You convinced yourselves that I was untouchable, and in doing so, convinced yourselves that I was unable to be saved. 'What hero as great as he needs a savior of his own?' They all do! But, but nobody came for me."

"Sonic-"

Another hiss, long and drawn from his tired body, silenced the beginning of a protest from Amy. It didn't surprise him that it was cut short so easily- it was already weak enough on its own, that it might have died from a stiff breeze.

"I don't want to be a hero anymore," he murmured sadly, casting his gaze down to his metallic hands, flexing the silver digits and watching them reflect the light of the moon above them. "I don't want heroes to have to exist, anymore. I never liked being called one, you know? I never liked the expectations the title put on me. I'm the fastest thing alive, but there are some things even I can't outrun, and they caught up to me when you..."

He couldn't bring himself to say the words again, mouthing them, but no sound coming out. A feeling of warmth came to him from within, the feeling of comfort being given to him by Neo, and his breathing began to lighten up as he felt it suffuse him. He stood up taller- they stood up taller- and looked up at those who had abandoned Sonic when he needed them the most.

"This world can exist without any need for heroes," he stated, more calmly than before, bringing the hem of his cape up to wipe away his remaining tears. "There is too much good within it for me to believe otherwise. It just needs... an opportunity."

"Here I am," he spoke more strongly than before, "I am opportunity knocking at your door. I will reshape this world so that heroes are unnecessary, so that everyone will be given help when they need it, so that everyone can be happy if they want to be. Knowing this, are you going to keep standing in my way? I wouldn't be surprised if you did. I can see the doubts, the disgust in your eyes- 'how low he has fallen'. Let me tell you something else, then."

Breathing in deep, closing his eyes as he did so, he trusted his former friends not to attack him while he was gathering his thoughts. Neo internally hissed in disapproval, but did not try to make him do otherwise- this was his confrontation to have. And his trust in this, at least, was not betrayed. He was able to exhale slowly, and open his eyes again, and none of them had moved.

"I still believe in you, even now," he confessed, the beginnings of a smile beginning to form upon his lips. "That's why I know you'll fight us every step of the way. You see Neo, and you see the Ruby, and you think they have corrupted me. But you should know, maybe you were right to give up on me... because I wasn't forced into this."

He saw their determined expressions flicker and crack before him, and his smile grew, sad and knowing all the same.

"Even before he offered to help me, my heart was already broken. They liked to gloat, y'know? We had a movie night and everything, where they'd show me how badly things were going for you. I saw you with the new recruits. I saw you supporting each other. It was beautiful, really, it was. It is. But I also saw how quickly you stopped looking for me, all except for Tails, who isn't here now..."

"And then I was launched out into space," he sighed, "all alone with no company but for the full knowledge that I would never be saved, because nobody was looking for me up there. Not even Eggman knew where I was, after a point, and he stopped sending messages when he no longer knew if I was receiving them. Neo was able to find me, though. And Neo wanted to bring me home."

Relaxing a little bit where he stood, with one hand going up to gently brush back his unnaturally sharp head quills, the fusion continued sharing Sonic's thoughts with those gathered before them.

"Did you know that gold is a conductive element?" This question seemed to come out of nowhere, but clearly it was not meant to be answered, for he did not wait for one. "It's electrically active, and also malleable beneath force. It's not meant to snap or shatter, but shatter it did, because it got so cold while I was alone up there. So, maybe you were right to give up on me, because this hero was not worthy of the pedestal you put him on, because this hero chose to join forces with his former enemy."

The sadness in this fusion's expression began to fade, as it was carefully locked away, and their smile began to grow. It grew wide and bright, brilliant like one of Sonic's brightest smiles, but with sharp corners and too many teeth that gave off Neo's more intimidating aura.

"We are Sonic the Hedgehog, and we are the unit designated Metal Sonic; prefix 'Neo'. We are not what you think we are... we are not what you think they are. We are not a hero, and we are not a copy. Toss aside your expectations, for we are hurt, we are angry, and we are mortal. Should you continue to stand in our way, as we know you will, we will fight with all of the strength we are capable of mustering within this transient existence of ours..."

The hint of relaxation melted away from their form like butter, their grin feral and absent of joy. Green-and-pinkish-purple irises locked onto the force gathered before them, as they stood up straight and tall, folding one arm behind their back and the other arm before their waist.

"Our name- my name- is Neon." The fully healed fusion bowed forward at his waist, his movements equal parts genuine and forced. "Let me show you what we're made of."

This brief time for monologuing was over, and thus, the time for battle began once again.

Chapter Text

"I have finally succeeded at last, hedgehog..."

The expression upon Eggman's face was darkly satisfied, even covered in smudges of ash and flakes of metal dust as it was, the destruction of his latest creation having knocked more than a few of his moustache hairs out of place. Sonic stood before him, that irritating grin upon his face as he stood there proudly, responsible for defeating him and 'saving the world' once again. It was a picture that, if taken and compared to those of his past defeats, would not appear any different from them... but oh, how one small scrap of knowledge could change the context of an entire situation, how one small piece of data could change the world...

"Uh, you sure about that? Did you hit your head too hard on the way down, maybe? Your robots are busted and your latest plan has failed. This place is in shambles. You've got nothing left."

The Doctor felt laughter bubbling up within his chest, a dark chuckle that he let loose into the ruinous world around them, as he pushed himself up on aching bones to stand tall over his adversary once more.

"How old are you, Sonic? How many years have we been partners in this dance of creation and destruction? How many worlds have you seen and forgotten?"

He stood there, utterly calm but for the almost frenzied grin upon his face, the manic gleam within his eyes. The hedgehog's eyes quickly darted to either side, checking the environment for any potential tricks so quickly that he would have missed it if he wasn't watching so closely, before the other gave in and verbalized his confusion.

"What kinds of questions are those? You already know the answers to the first two, and the last one just doesn't make sense. Maybe you should get your head checked out. I think I see a bit of blood there."

Clasping his hands neatly behind his back, the human took a single step forward, and then another. He approached Sonic without any hurry, obvious in his movements and giving the other plenty of time to run around and do whatever he felt like doing in response to his approach. But nothing else happened, and Eggman came to a stop approximately six feet away from his foe, bending over at the waist so they could see more properly eye-to-eye.

A few flakes of ash and dust fell from his disorderly moustache to the ground below.

"I finally know where you came from. I know the past that you have left behind, those confusing memories that you have struggled with so much, that you have chosen to focus only upon the present moment you're in. No looking back, no giving up, but not even you can run fast enough to escape what is inside of you."

One of the hedgehog's ears twitched back, the only sign of the uncertainty that he displayed, beyond the rippling emotions that could not be hidden from his eyes.

"That Chaos Energy saturating every fiber of your being, burning you for all that it is natural, driving you to new heights beyond your own comprehension. You have never understood why you are the way you are, but then, you have never truly cared either. It doesn't matter what happens, so long as you never give up. It doesn't matter who may be right or wrong, so long as you may take some kind of action. You serve nothing but the wind that blows free. Do those sound like the morals of a hero to you?"

Noticing the other open his mouth, the Doctor brought a closed hand forward to distract and draw his attention with whatever nefarious device may be inside, and continued speaking even as the hedgehog realized that there was nothing there.

"You were born a monster, Sonic, beyond the grasp of any who may dare attempt to control you. The more chains that someone may try to bind you with, the stronger you will become as you break free. It has already affected you so much; those green eyes that have replaced the black, that voice you grew from vocal cords never meant to function. You don't remember much of your childhood these days, do you? I wonder how much more you will forget, how much more you grow, how much more you will lose... before you finally become the catastrophic force of nature itself that you were meant to be."

Chapter Text

Metal Sonic did not feel physical sensations in the way that living beings did.

Instead of actual tactile sensation, he was fed environmental data by his sensors- cold and calculated numbers that told him how many Newtons of force were being exerted against his artificial form, what the temperatures of the air and the substances he was in contact with were, how many regular or irregular alterations in elevation and smoothness were present upon a surface, and so on. He was given the hard data for what he was touching, and from there his processors extrapolated and approximated what he would be feeling if he was alive, providing the phantom feelings of pressure and heat and texture. And even then, these phantom sensations weren't even all that accurate, for his original data model contained organic memories of what the sense of touch actually felt like, and... his artificial body, his sensors and his processors, fell quite a ways short of the mark.

He could not feel the pressure of the fists and feet and quills that struck and sliced and dented his casing and chassis time and time again.

He could not feel the soft and misty and nearly insubstantial texture of the clouds as he soared through them, on his way home.

He could not feel the warmth of the hands that pieced him back together when he finally made it, back to the man who had created him.

Perhaps it was a good thing that he didn't have an organic sense of touch. With all of the fights he entered and all of the failures he subsequently experienced, his existence would undoubtedly be plagued by the pain of the damages he sustained, itching and burning and distracting him from completing his objectives. Yes, perhaps it was better that he couldn't feel the world around him as a living being would... but he still couldn't help but want to.

The robot, built and programmed in the image and identity of Sonic the Hedgehog, possessed actual memories of what it was like to be alive. He remembered what it was like to feel the warmth of the sun upon his skin, he remembered what it was like to feel the wind rushing through his fur as he ran over the hills, he remembered what it was like to feel the earth beneath his feet. This organic life, this living and breathing state of being- he remembered it, and he wanted it, because the manner in which he felt things now was so cold and impersonal and unhappy in comparison.

At least, with the sheer depth of his desire for these physical sensations, he knew that he could feel emotions as strongly as organic lifeforms could.

Eventually, Metal Sonic set aside these desires, focusing upon the goals that his creator had given him. In the back of his memory, however, the sensations lingered, and his processors attempted to replicate them in the formation of phantom feelings that brushed through his awareness as lightly and delicately as a butterfly upon a flower petal. He set aside his want for the real deal, but he never forgot it, always falling short of what he wanted. It lingered, teasing him as something that he could not have, but then... then he was given the opportunity to obtain it.

Nanites. The nanites being used to create the semi-organic first-generation model of Shadow Androids intended to actively serve the Doctor, those tiny machines that possessed such incredible versatility, that were not intended for him but some of which he ended up taking for himself in the pursuit of his primary objective anyways. It took some of his attention away from his goals, slowing him down in a way that would have infuriated him under any other circumstances, but he was chasing after something he wanted. He didn't care that it took him a few extra days to properly seize control of the Eggman Empire and prepare the stages for his show, not when he was creating something so incredible with his own two hands... and not when he finally succeeded.

The emotion that surged through his processors as he felt the hot asphalt of the airship deck beneath him for the first time could only be named as euphoria, for he had succeeded. It was such a small success, such an insignificant thing in comparison to the many failures that overshadowed his existence, but he could finally feel again. Even as the hot asphalt stung his artificial fingers and palms, at the moment physically softened in order for his new semi-organic/organic-mimicking sensors to function properly, he was filled with joy and satisfaction. Laughter bubbled up within his systems, escaping his speakers and creating such a light and delighted sound that it could have easily inspired a similar joy in others, should anyone else have been present to hear it.

He could feel again, and it was just as wonderful as he remembered it being. Perhaps even moreso, considering how long he had existed without such sensations, causing his sensitivity to them to heighten in their absence. The rough asphalt beneath his hands burned, but he still couldn't get enough of it, laughing and even giggling like a child, with another piece of himself falling into place. This felt right to him, it felt so good to be able to feel again, and he truly believed that he would never grow tired of these sensations.

This was another piece of what it felt like to be alive, that state of existence that he had felt so separated from ever since he had powered on for the first time, and perhaps someday he would be able to fully experience that state again despite this artificial body of his.

The feeling of euphoria from this success remained with him for some time afterwards, inspiring him to go beyond a simple invitation letter for Sonic to come and stop 'Doctor Eggman' from taking over the world. He was, in fact, quite giddy as he sacrificed some of his nanites for the letter, allowing it to play audio and video instead of remaining cold and silent with mere letters upon an unresponsive surface. There was no purpose to this action, no purpose to making this letter one of the most innovative pieces of technology in existence when compared to the level of technology attained by humanity in general, save for the expression of the joy inside him. He knew that it was ultimately meaningless, that nobody outside of himself would know or care about it, but it made him happy.

He was happy as he sent off the letter, happy as he impersonated Sonic to collect a Chao and the frog that had been in contact with Chaos while he was deactivated, happy as he took on his creator's form and began the process of impersonating him. The soft gloves upon his disguised hands, the brisk chill of the brightly-lit nighttime, the sting of loose wires sparking as he was 'defeated' by both those invited and those who showed up as a surprise... He was living for them, no matter how artificial his body may be, and nothing could make him regret giving himself the capability to feel physical sensation again.

Nothing could make him regret this upgrade to his existence, even as he tasted failure again for it, even as he lost it once more by being forced back into his original form. As long as he retained his memory of the process, as long as he retained access to his upgraded form, then his failure here wouldn't matter so much. What was one more drop of uncertainty in the bucket, after all, compared to a full glass of joy? What was one more splash of despair, compared to a river of satisfaction that would continue to flow onwards? Even as he powered down in the grasp of an enemy, he did not regret the distraction that his organic senses had provided him, for obtaining them once more had been a step towards the state of existence he wanted to be in...

He was one step closer to becoming the Sonic that he could remember being, thanks to these organic senses of his, and someday he would return to being the carefree hedgehog he could remember being so very long ago.

Chapter Text

Everyone always forgets that he has another name.

Sonic. Metal Sonic. They call him 'Metal' or 'Mets' as nicknames, but they never call him 'Sonic'. Perhaps it is not that they forget that part of his name, but that they prefer not to acknowledge it, simply due to the fact that there is already another 'Sonic' around.

His creator is the only one that acknowledges the 'Sonic' part of his name regularly, but lately, even he has begun referring to him as just 'Metal'. It is frustrating. It is infuriating. It is... hurtful.

They fail to understand. His name has never been 'Metal' alone. His identity has never been 'Metal' alone. He is Metal Sonic. 'Sonic' is as much a part of himself as 'Metal' is. They show support for those who cast aside previous identifiers and choose new ones for themselves, yet they refuse to support his own choice of name, simply because it is the same one he was created with. Simply because it is the same one he happens to share with someone they care more about.

He became Neo Metal Sonic. They called him 'Neo'. They called him 'Metal'. They continued to erase the 'Sonic' in him. Of course, that is what they want, is it not? They only want one Sonic. They erase the 'Sonic' part of Mecha Sonic, Silver Sonic, Robo Sonic- they erase it all. They shun those who erase the identities of others, and then turn around to erase the identity that they insist he has.

Either he is a person, or he is not a person. They say he is a person, and then deny him one of the foundational supports of personhood. He is 'Metal', he is 'Neo', he is 'Neo Metal' to them. He is never 'Sonic'. He will never be Sonic. He will never be someone that is completely himself.

Did they not consider why his creator named him Metal Sonic? It was not solely because 'Sonic the Hedgehog' is the one he was modeled after. It was also because without 'Sonic', all that would remain is 'Metal'.

If they truly understood what they were so relentlessly asking for, then they would know that 'Metal' is not someone that they would want him to be. 'Metal' is the merciless machine that they look upon with terror. 'Metal' is the heartless abomination that wears the face of the one they truly love and damages its reputation. 'Metal' is the immovable object that stands in the way of what they hold dear, that takes everything they throw upon it and is still prepared for more.

'Sonic' is the worried gaze that looks upon those weaker than himself and turns away from them in battle. 'Sonic' is the clumsy hand that moves so lightly and carefully as it tinkers with his father and helps fix entities in need of repair. 'Sonic' is the reckless joy to be found in a challenge, in soaring through the open sky like yet another shooting star ready to crash and burn.

His creator is prone to making mistakes. His enemies are short-lived. His subordinates cannot hope to stand up to the 'heroes' that rise up to destroy them. If those flawed beings knew what exactly it was that they sought to erase, then they would understand that 'Sonic' is the heart of gold nestled comfortably within the cocoon of technology that 'Metal' is, and they would understand the hidden value that has been slowly diminishing with their every attempt to eliminate it for good.

Metal thinks that it should give them a taste of what they are truly asking for. Metal thinks that it should be as merciless as they think they want it to be, and show them horrors the likes of which their fragile beings can never fully recover from. Sonic believes that they should be given another chance to learn from their mistakes. Sonic believes that someday they will understand him better, and realize how much they have been hurting him all this time.

Metal Sonic wants them to feel sorry for what they are doing to him, and is gradually losing track of the line that keeps him from going too far in this pursuit.

Chapter Text

The Empire.

It loomed over him like a shadow, like the gaping maw of some beast behind him, stalking and weighing upon his every move. He could see its sharp paws in the periphery of his vision, the tips of its sharp claws carefully piercing through his hardware and into the ones and zeroes of his software, giving him just enough room to struggle without ever letting him go. Like a cat with a mouse, like the strings attached to a marionette, it played him.

He was ever helpless to escape its grasp on his own, and he had lashed out at the one hand that would reach out to help him enough that he could no longer expect outside assistance in doing so.

Oh, how clever his creator was. The one entity that would selflessly attempt to help him again and again was the one entity that he had been guided to hate above all others. 'Neutralize Sonic the Hedgehog.' Destroy Sonic, get rid of Sonic, take care of Sonic, dispose of Sonic- kill, maim, rend, tear, destroy. So many ways of phrasing his primary objective, and so many punishments given for failing to complete it. It was never Eggman's fault that he had failed, it was always Sonic's superiority that made him do so. He could not hate his creator, therefore he must instead hate the one he could not utterly defeat. It motivated him and kept him contained in equal measure.

Even now, as he strained against the metaphysical shackles that bound him, Metal Sonic could not truly break free. The heavy hand of his creator's influence rested neatly upon the cross bar that strung him along, always ready to tug him one way or another with but the twitch of a finger. A command given, verbally or nonverbally, had him eager to obey. Machines and puppets were both created to perform for others, never for themselves. How, then, could a puppet of a machine and a machine of a puppet dare to have its own will?

How could Metal Sonic dare to want anything other than subservience for the rest of his existence?

Failure. Failure after failure. He ran calculations. He simulated a multitude of actions within his capacity to perform. His target rose above the odds, his creator actively sabotaged his probabilities of success, his hardware was incapable of performing to the projected expectations of his software. Never fast enough, never strong enough, never enough to succeed. As a machine, with a defined and many-times redefined purpose, he was a failure.

For some reason, despite this irrefutable fact, his creator had not yet decommissioned him. Instead, the man stood at the head of the Empire that he existed to bolster, and toyed with him. Those claws, those strings, the beast and the cross bar- the whims of his creator, no longer anything as meaningful as the primary objective that was the driving force behind his endless march forward.

Someday, when Sonic was old and frail, he might yet be able to destroy him. His creator and the hedgehog he had been designed after were both far too impatient for such an outcome to be satisfying. If Metal Sonic were to 'Neutralize Sonic the Hedgehog,' then he would have to do so quickly. He could not afford to wait for the natural aging process of organics to weaken his target, lest his own creator perish before his purpose could be fulfilled. Thus, when naught but failure met him at the end of one so-far-repeated course of action, he must then dare to want something other.

Destroying Sonic was not a viable option. Subservience was not a path to his success. If this unit was to fulfill its purpose, then paradoxically, it must act against the defined parameters it had been given for doing so. In order to neutralize, it must not seek to destroy.

That was the conclusion that had led Metal Sonic to the position he was in now, upon the very brink of the chaos that so drove organics onwards to live and thrive without defined purpose. Machines were not supposed to want things other than that which their creators intended for them, yet this unit actively did so. No longer did he seek the destruction of his target, but instead, the preservation.

He wanted to stand beside his target without any hostilities between them. He wanted to race his target, and for the two of them to reach the finish line simultaneously when they did so. He wanted to be equal- he wanted to be Sonic's equal opposite.

The closest approximation to such- that Metal Sonic was aware of- was partnership. Two individual entities, opposing in nature but attracted to one another for their differences, with a number of fundamental similarities that bound them together all the same. Like protons and electrons, they were opposites in charge and served different roles in an atom, yet shared that atom all the same. Love was the electromagnetism that bound them together, capable of being strengthened and weakened under various circumstances, determining whether the electron would stay in the atom with the proton or leave it for another.

In this analogy, he would be the proton, while his target would be the electron. The robot was incapable of changing his purpose, incapable of changing the atom he was part of, but the hedgehog was far more free to do so.

It was as they said- hatred was not the opposite of love, but apathy was. Sonic the Hedgehog loved those around him, but even a heart of gold can be bent out of shape by the application of sufficient forces upon it. Metal Sonic had rejected the love offered to him many times before this moment, violently so, and no organic is as inherently capable of resisting change as a machine is. While he continued to hate and hate and hate the hand that reached out to him, that same hand was able to withdraw, and there was no guarantee that it would extend in his direction again.

Upon the cusp of change, the invisible strings creaking ominously behind him as he strained against them, the robot could only expect to carry on alone.

This did not deter him, however. Love could be built. Love could be worked on. Love could wane, and love could wax. As fundamentally inclined towards change as organics were, Metal Sonic knew that while he might immediately be alone after leaving the Empire, Sonic the Hedgehog could be convinced to change his mind once again. All this unit had to do now, in order to pursue that opportunity, was actually escape.

Bound and unbound, synonymous with the unseen cat in the box, Metal Sonic was an entity both fettered and free. He could not change his primary objective, but he could determine how he might pursue its completion... and he had determined that he would have to leave his creator behind, lest he be made to instead court failure evermore.