Chapter 1: Green Hill Zone
Summary:
Hi! I left a bolded letter in here but I don’t want you to tell me! Nope—nope—nope! Write it down and shut up!
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Chapter Text
Sonic the Hedgehog is falling apart—
He just hasn’t realized it yet.
Somewhere in between sky and sea, land floats like forgotten thoughts—broken chunks of checkered soil drifting through the aether. Arcs of grass stretch toward sunlight with no source. Loop-de-loops twist into nothing, then disappear like half-finished dreams.
Gravity? An abstract suggestion, each answer different from the last.
Direction? Optional—or, infinite options? I can’t wrap my head around it—
Order? No. Just a glitch that looks like it.
Each floating mass hums with its own pull. Planetoid gravity is slapped on like duct tape, just enough to keep the world stitched together by a subatomic thread. A failsafe only strong enough to prevent chaos to itself.
Good luck to any other variable that squeezes itself into the gravity field…
Back to NOW —
The blink.
No sound. Just silence.
A burst of light.
Like a camera flash bringing memory to reality.
Something drops.
Something blue.
Something alive.
A blur hits the ground mid-stride—
Runs before he understands what legs even are.
“Hit the ground running” made metaphor to action.
Cracked loops shatter beneath him.
A ramp spirals upward and collapses behind.
A palm tree flickers in and out of existence.
The world rearranges itself like an adrenaline junkie's dream that can’t decide what it wants to be.
But the blue blur doesn’t hesitate.
He runs.
Not away. Not toward.
Just because.
His feet skid across the edge of a crumbling ledge—grit sprays into nothing. He leans forward, wild grin tugging at his lip as instinct pushes to break free.
He should be afraid.
But… he isn’t.
Why?
No name—
So naturally…
No enemies. No problems. No past.
Everything was and is the present.
And now, his legs twitch. His lungs burn with cold fire. The wind whistles like it’s daring him to chase it.
He plants one foot back. Fingers to the dirt.
Body coils like a spring.
A voice in his head—not spoken, not known, just felt —counts down.
Three.
Two.
One.
GO!
He rockets forward—
Arcs high into the air, over the torn seams of the world.
He doesn't fall.
He redirects.
He flips sideways mid-flight, impacts a planetoid’s edge—hard.
WHAM .
Faceful of grass.
Mouthful of dirt.
Quills flattened like windless flags.
He lifts his head slowly, cheeks puffed full. Spits.
“Blegh—wasn’t down for that…”
Pushes to his feet—
Looks up. Or is it down?
The ledge he launched from now hovers above him.
“Or up for that…?”
A second passes—
Too long!
No time to sort it out—!
A piece of terrain groans behind him, then folds in half. Blinks sideways, an infinitely incurling loop now a pit to the abyss.
He steadies himself on the planetoid’s curve. If he walks forward, he should fall off.
But he doesn't.
The world rotates beneath his feet—gravity asserting itself again.
He runs.
Faster. Faster.
His soles barely skim the ground.
He’s freer with each step.
Then—
Escape velocity.
He leaps—
And leaves the world behind.
A low boom ripples across the atmosphere.
A crackling wave of light and air.
A ripple that makes the ravine above shiver and split apart.
He glances back mid-flight.
The shockwave is still chasing him.
“Supersonic…” he whispers.
The grin’s back. Bigger. Wilder.
He laughs—free, reckless.
He pumps his arms, twisting toward a nearby platform.
“Woo-hoo-HOO!”
Wind tears through his quills.
Ground rushes up to meet him.
SKWOOSH!
He slides in, kicking up a trail of crushed grass and shattered rock.
“I’m supersonic …”
A beat.
His chest.
A rhythm.
Like a core spinning up.
Again:
“Supersonic.”
But something in the word doesn’t settle right.
That means one thing—
Takeoff!
Loop.
Jump.
Rail grind.
His heels kick sparks as he zips along a slanted track, riding it like a bullet train.
Flip. Launch. Land.
His body becomes momentum incarnate.
His instincts scribble their own physics.
He runs up a wall—
The world shifts sideways.
Now—burning through jagged plains.
Another planetoid up ahead spins with a low thrum.
He dives off his current one—
Misses.
No gravity to grab him this time.
He free-falls, arms folded back for speed.
The rises ahead of him—
Or, more accurately, he falls below it.
He grimaces, hands paddling through the air.
“Come on, Supersonic…”
Closer…
Almost—
The pull catches a hand. He slams stomach-first into the next platform, bouncing and skidding across the surface.
“Ogh—not—feelin’—super…!”
A stumble. A rebound. A launch.
He crashes through a piece of checkerboard terrain like it’s made of dust.
Moving fast…
The ground beneath him rotates mid-run.
A ramp corkscrews into a vertical climb.
Sonic adjusts—effortless.
He wall-runs sideways across a tree trunk.
Vaults from ledge to ledge.
Slides under a half-broken loop.
This is where he belongs—
Even if he doesn’t remember why.
A series of sharp platforms rise like steps.
He bounds—one after another.
Misses the last.
Falling.
Spinning into a ball.
The blur slams the ground like a meteorite.
Debris explodes around him.
He straightens, panting—buzzing—with leftover velocity.
Still no name.
Just a feeling.
A word.
“Not that super…”
He frowns. Looks down at his feet.
Ground twists downward.
A popsicle stick trying to bend.
SNAP!
A titanic break.
Floating polygon violently morphs to circle.
“Can’t stick around!”
The blur flies forward.
Loses his footing—
Bounces across the wraparound planetoid like a fly on weak flypaper.
Plants a foot—
Runs.
Through wall after wall.
Pillar after pillar.
Palm tree after palm tree.
Until he’s free.
Then, across the sky—
A roar. An eruption.
More than the sound barrier.
A god raging.
Suddenly—
A white polygon claw rips through the sky like a paper tear.
It crackles with static and roars into shape—a jagged, flickering outline of a planetoid birthing itself.
Light spirals in the air. The noise is wrong.
The world fractures.
Gravity whimpers.
Sonic’s thrown into a pinball of collapsing terrain and unformed pieces.
He bounces off a chunk of earth.
Curls mid-air—
Launches toward the newborn structure.
Slides across the surface.
Rolls to a stop—crouched.
One hand on the dirt.
One hand behind him.
Quills glowing faint. Eyes narrowed.
Iconic.
He stands.
Scans the planetoid—half-formed, glitching at the edges.
Islands are still assembling in real time.
The air has changed. The sky is cracking.
Another flicker of white polygon static blossoms nearby.
And another.
Tiny rips, barely holding back what’s trying to escape.
They pulse and swell.
Hold back a furious memory of this Lost World.
And in this lost world—him.
Stuck in a new location.
Without any explanation.
Unflinching.
No.
He’s not lost.
He’s not stuck.
He’s in motion.
And in motion—he’s home.
He squints toward a distant ridge.
Cracks knuckles.
And says it.
“…Interesting place… Sonic…”
The wind’s still for half a heartbeat.
Then picks up again.
The grin returns.
He takes off—
A blue streak zigzagging through the horizon.
“Gotta go fast.”
And he’s gone.
Hey SUPER reader!
Reached the end? No new parts? Don’t worry! Lost World will be back this weekend with more so stay tuned!
Parts (1-2/13)
If you’re here and the following parts have been posted, just keep reading!
This is a Sonic fanfiction written as a gift to my best friend. I honestly don’t care what you do as long as it isn’t copy-and-pasting this on another website. Make fan comics, commentaries, animations, art, games, translations—knock yourself out. No need to ask!
Chapter 2: Mama Caterkiller
Summary:
Patton Oswalt as Sonic the Hedgehog!
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
The further he moves, the more the world heals.
Up ahead:
A massive, spherical planetoid, floating like a solar system’s star. Orbiting around it—polygonal land segments obeying conventional gravity, scattered like puzzle pieces under repair before the big solve. They hover and drift, checkerboard parkour tiles, each one large enough to run across, none quite stable.
A planetary ring made of playgrounds and battlefields.
Sonic bounds between them—
Each arc a clean, beam-thread of motion through chaos.
He twists his body—lets the planetoid’s pull finish the job.
Feet down. Knees soft.
Then—
A tremor.
The planetoid shudders underfoot.
Not a glitch.
Not wind.
Something massive.
Plummeting.
He bolts for the northern pole of the planetoid—
Looks up.
WHAM!
It lands with the wrath of a steel meteor onto one of the checkerboard segments.
A behemoth machine—insectoid and magenta—from above.
The shockwave sends a ripple through the whole ring. Segments tilt, one cracking off and drifting outward like loose teeth to a void.
She coils into view.
Then—
A scream.
It’s a blaring, digital shriek that warps the air.
Harmonizes with a mechanical war cry.
A boss has entered.
Mama Caterkiller.
Bigger. Meaner. Born for carnage.
She raises her head, locking lifeless eyes with Sonic, then lunges—
Not fast, but colossal—her high-arc jump crosses to the next platform with near-zero forward momentum.
Inch—jump. Inch—jump.
Each leap brings the spikes’ reflection of a skewered Sonic closer.
Each landing carves fresh grooves into moss and rock.
He grins.
“Guess I’ll play tag.”
He leans in—palms out, knees bent.
Ready.
Spool—coil—launch—GO!
He’s gone—
A blast of kinetic light, trailing energy like oil on water.
The land bends beneath his speed—
He wraps around the central planetoid, gravity slipping as he uses it like a slingshot.
Up. Around—
Gravity loses its grip.
Then down—
Chucks him at the machine. Hard.
CONTACT—
A cobalt blade through Mama Caterkiller’s midsection.
Metal screeches.
Debris erupts—
Shards fly.
Some melt mid-air, seared into drifting ash.
She reels—
A scream glitches.
Crackles.
Breaks.
Her massive head crashes into the platform’s edge, smashing off a chunk that spins into the void.
Steam.
Vents hissing like a dragon with a punctured lung.
Still alive.
But—reduced to a thrashing upper body, wires vomiting sparks.
And Sonic? He’s already airborne again—
Hooking onto a nearby segment’s curve, and slinging himself back in.
Hit two.
His spin tears through her body tail-to-head like a shish kebab.
Segment—BOOM!
Segment—BOOM!
Segment—BOOM!
Each blast ripples outward—the arena lights up in a sequence of violent red flashes.
The boxing ring shudders.
Mama Caterkiller jerks back—too slow to react—
Just in time for Sonic to finish the job, punching through her faceplate like a comet.
He hits the main planetoid again in a long, arcing slide that molds to the gravity.
Hand brushes moss.
Dust curls from his shoes.
Stillness.
Sonic watches the wreckage from his perch—a straight stand on the planetoid’s equator like an arrow, body perpendicular to the abyss below.
He smiles.
Chuckles.
“So much for the balloon animal…”
Then—
A flicker in the sky.
A massive bubble, glowing with electric static, drifts into view from Mama Caterkiller’s shattered core.
It’s drawn toward a tiny planetoid—barely a moonlet.
Inside—life.
POP.
A blur of orange crashes onto the mossy slope back-first, magnetized by gravity.
Bounces.
Rolls.
Stills.
Then—
Two tails twitch.
They flick upright—then outward, like antennae rebooting.
A groan barely lifted over the wind.
The fox blinks.
Looks up.
Sees Sonic.
Framed in broken sunray—
Victorious. Waiting. Ready.
Sonic taps a foot, arms crossed, head cocked.
“How’re you hangin’?”
The fox points lazily downward, squinting past the curve of his floating rock.
“You’re the one hanging…”
Sonic snorts and shakes his head.
“Tch. Nah. Watch this.”
He paces to the northern pole of his planetoid—walkin’ ‘round like he owned the joint’s gravity—and looks up.
The fox stares.
Eyes wide.
Mouth half-open.
“How—how did you…?”
Sonic just shrugs and flaps a hand dismissively.
“Don’t cook it in your brain too long—burns the experience.”
The fox blinks.
Sonic’s arms drop. Eyes roll. Smirks.
“Just go with it.”
The fox goes to nod—
But he doesn’t know enough.
His gaze zips wildly—gravity, rotating platforms, planetary rings of terrain, Sonic’s impossible stand, the fractured sky—
All of it hits like a math book without a single solution.
He groans, pressing his palm to his forehead, eyes screwed shut.
“Whadja find out, genius?” Sonic calls, brow arched.
“…I dunno,” the fox mutters, voice soft, childlike— frustrated .
He is a kid. Maybe eight versus Sonic’s—uh, adult age? Young adult? Maybe—not important.
Tails!—Orange fur, twin tails—obvious now. An adorable mascot with a genius inside. And hello , genius!—he was wasting precious time.
Sonic exhales, lips pursed. This place is getting on his nerves. Too weird. Too floaty. Too much thinking.
“Stand up. Run around. Launch to the next platform.”
He motions with quick, circular hands—loop-de-loops and half-pipes stirring the air.
The fox peeks through one eye, drops his hand, then opens the other. Hesitantly, he rises to his feet, legs wobbling.
“Don’t think about it,” Sonic adds, palms flat, shoving the thought away.
The fox glances behind him at the curve of the planetoid.
He’s a kid, not a particle accelerator!
“I won’t have the speed—”
“Run.” Sonic snaps. Final. Cold.
That shuts the fox up.
“Oh—okay!”
He bolts toward the southern—wait, northern for him, whatever—pole, maybe hoping his awkward run’s a joke Sonic finds funny. Arms stiff. Knees jabbing high. A wind-up toy breaking free from its shelf.
Dust puffs from his heels, catching the sideways sunbeam cresting the planetoid. Lit and thick like cartoon clouds.
Sonic doubles over, wheezing laughter.
“This ain’t a sidekick audition, Toony”
The jab lands. Somewhere in a theatercore theme park, a mouse flinches.
The fox disappears behind the planetoid’s face, breath huffing loud
Sonic shakes his head.
His voice trails, “Oh… he’s not getting off this rock.”
And sure enough—there he is. Popping up on the northern pole again. His little head pokes into view, bobbing higher—then lower—with each comic step as he heads down the curve.
Then he jumps.
Nothing.
Again.
Still nothing.
Sure, he could dunk a kiddie basketball hoop—but escape a planetoid? Not happening.
“It didn’t work!” His voice cracks. Panic tightens.
Another jump.
Sonic turns to watch, still chuckling.
The fox gives it his all—arms up, knees in, pure vertical.
“Give it a ‘WAHOO! ’” Sonic smirks before giving a plumber’s jump.
The sting lands this time.
“But… you… you weren’t even watching me.”
“Gotta move faster,” Sonic says again. Dry. Teasing’s gone.
“But I can’t —it didn’t work— you didn’t see —”
“You’re still on the planet.” Sonic’s mouth stretches wide and flat. Derpy. Deadpan. “I can see that .”
One more try.
The fox crouches, hops—
A tiny breath of effort.
“…wahoo…”
Same weak lift. Same weak thud.
Gravity wins again.
A beat of silence.
Sonic squints—he’s noticed something.
The fox’s tails—they moved.
They’re still moving.
Slow, confused swirls. Dying fans.
He points.
“Hey—tails—”
The fox perks up.
“Is my name Tails?”
Sonic stops. Blinks. His finger curls slightly.
“…I was just talking about your—” He stops.
The fox’s tails are whirling now, uncertain but gaining rhythm. The movement flickers, familiar. Almost right.
“…Sure,” Sonic says at last.
Then thinks, “Kid’s got their tails crossed.”
He waves it off, more focused on the real question.
Real not really equalling serious-sounding. But for Sonic, it felt natural—a dusty string of code in some dormant memory.
“Do you think you can fly?”
The fox’s world goes dim.
Blank confusion.
“…What?”
He looks over his shoulder. Starts rotating his tails manually.
“How would that even—?”
He doesn’t notice…
But he’s lifting.
Just an inch, now. Barely hovering.
Sonic catches it.
“See? You just flew !”
The fox halts mid-spin. Drops like a rock.
“That’s not possible. Not physically. There’s no airflow vector, no rotor tilting, no…”
He paces. Hands moving. Rattling off science with a frantic edge.
Sonic watches, stone-faced.
The fox stops.
Still dizzy.
Still reeling.
“But you’re a planet away!”
Sonic groans. Turns on his heels.
“I know what I saw.”
And then he runs.
Hits speed instantly—cascading blur across the curve of his planetoid.
For a heartbeat, he breaks traction, riding the lip of gravity’s grip—and launches.
A meteor sling-shot through the void.
He hits the fox’s planetoid hard, slides in a three-point landing, dust exploding beneath him.
He stands.
Smirks.
“Tag.”
Tails tilts his head.
“Are you… playing a game?”
Can’t be…
Because…
Well, the world’s obviously falling apart.
“It’s jus’ how you look at it.”
He narrows his eyes, locking onto Tails’ confused face.
“And it looks like I’ve got a bit of a side quest.”
Hey, SUPER reader!
Reached the end? No new parts? Don’t worry! Lost World will be back this weekend with more so stay tuned!
Parts (1-2/13)
If you’re here and the following parts have been posted, just keep reading!
This is a Sonic fanfiction written as a gift to my best friend. I honestly don’t care what you do as long as it isn’t copy-and-pasting this on another website. Make fan comics, commentaries, animations, art, games, translations—knock yourself out. No need to ask!
Notes:
Mama Caterkiller: Tier III Badnik. Near-identical to its “Big Nal” counterpart from the Sonic Lost Worlds canon event.
Mamas don’t leave their babies. Weird…Status: Operated by the Eggman Empire. Responding to Space-Time Anomaly 1991.
Chapter 3: A One-Player Game
Summary:
Tags sponsored by: Hidden Messages Inc.!
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Grass.
That’s all he sees.
Bending under his breath, shadowed by his throbbing head.
A tap lands on his shoulder.
Muffled speaking.
“Were ya hangin’ on?”
Tails lifts his head slowly. It feels dull, like lifting metal underwater.
He doesn’t meet Sonic’s eyes.
Instead, the Mama Caterkiller wreckage—the split, sizzling remains of the towering monster. He crawls forward and rises shakily to his feet, drawn like a confused moth to a light of answers.
One hand brushes a scorched armor plate. The other hovers near glowing tubing, circuits faintly twitching like dying nerves.
“Energy’s still latent… Low-frequency pulses… Organic routing—and extraction. Not growing, but… learning…?”
Behind him, Sonic stretches with a grunt.
Dusts off his hands.
“Akshually…” he mocks in a nasally tone.
Then drops it. Deadpan.
“It’s a beat bot.”
He turns, starts walking.
“Let’s go.”
That stops Tails in his tracks.
“Was I… in this ?”
Sonic folds his arms.
“Mhm.”
Tails pats his chest. His sides.
He feels physically intact. Alive. But—
”It was using my life force.”
—Consciously reanimated—death to jarring rebirth.
His eyes scan left. Right. Left. Right.
A broken typewriter, looking for lines that aren’t there.
Nothing.
His face goes blank, then hollow.
Sonic’s brows lower—not with concern, but quiet frustration.
Tails suddenly grabs his head.
Doubles over hard.
His claws dig into his scalp, shaking. Trying to drain the tension.
“I—I—why—where—no—NO!”
“I don’t remember anything!”
Sonic unfolds one arm, raises a hand.
“I don’t either. I just blinked into existence.”
Shrugs.
“Maybe ya did, too.”
Tails shakes his head violently, breath ragged.
Sonic sighs and keeps walking. He reaches the edge of the platform, letting his toes hang off the curve. Teetering, arms relaxed.
“That isn’t possible,” Tails insists.
“There are so many factors to myself that—”
Sonic cuts him off.
“You think too much, bud. Tails’ll get crossed.”
Tails’ ears flick.
“You don’t think at all.”
The words hang there.
Not hostile.
Tight.
They exchange a long look.
Tails shakes in frustration.
Sonic just smiles.
“Do I need to?”
Silence.
Two minds—one spinning off its hinges, the other coasting like a hockey puck on grade-A ice.
Then Sonic steps toward him.
“Feelin’ antsy. Let’s go.”
He scoops Tails up like laundry. The fox squeaks, but can’t resist.
In a blur, Sonic launches.
Wind roars past him.
To the fox, the world stretches thin.
Ground—void—ground in an instant.
Tails buries his face in Sonic’s chest.
The blur winces.
But keeps his eyes on the prize.
Twists his body on the home stretch—
They land hard.
Dust skids under Sonic’s shoes in a loose spiral as he lands in a crouch, two-point saving-the-princess style.
He sets Tails down.
“Better than that piggyback, huh?”
Tails wobbles. Nods quickly.
“Uh—uh-huh.”
Sonic points forward.
“Goh—finally. Bridges.”
Floating slabs stretch ahead, checkerboard paths over spinning void. Some spiral, others bob. Parkour islands turn like lazy gears.
About time—some completion in the floating world. Space to free-roam!
Sonic vanishes in a blur—no warning.
“WAHOO!”
Tails flinches.
Then bolts after him.
It’s a disaster.
High knees. Stiff arms. Like a wind-up toy with the wrong key.
The world’s built for Sonic.
Tails knows it.
He breathes hard. Trips on the terrain’s curve.
Tumbles.
Rolls.
Flops.
A grunt escapes as he lies in the dust.
He grits his teeth.
Tries again.
From a couple mini-courses away, Sonic skids to a stop. Turns.
He watches the kid scramble up a slope.
Smirks.
“You move like a glitch.”
Tails pants, hunched.
“I feel like one…”
He starts pacing in circles. Still mumbling to himself. Still chewing through the problem.
Sonic watches, and for the first time—
He looks tired.
He turns, mutters, “I’ll do a couple loops.”
Tails’ ears twitch.
He looks up as Sonic vanishes.
“Hey—uh—”
What was his name again?
“Blur!”
Sonic crests back over the hill.
Stops.
His glare could cut steel.
“It’s Sonic.”
Tails’ face burns with embarrassment.
“Sorry… I… I just… could you stay here?”
Sonic taps a foot. Arms crossed again.
“I’ll just be over the hill. Don’t wanna get too bored to keep carin’ aboutcha.”
That one jabs.
Tails watches him disappear.
Moments later, laughter.
A loop-de-loop slices over the hilltop. Sonic’s silhouette zips past in pieces.
Tails groans, defeated.
Starts trudging up the hill alone.
“Maybe he’s not even supposed to do anything with me…”
The confession of a player two in a one-player game.
He clambers over terrain like a bot with bad pathfinding.
Then keeps on going with Sonic.
Failed jumps.
Being carried.
Chasing blurs.
Watching light zip hopelessly out of reach.
It all starts to smear together.
His thoughts fade into a fog of war.
Drip.
Tails freezes.
A drop hits his ear.
Then another.
There shouldn’t be rain. Not here.
The clouds are wispy and white.
The sky’s an angelic blue.
The sun, high and hot.
He looks up.
And the sky is leaking.
Hey, SUPER reader!
Reached the end? No new parts? Don’t worry! Lost World will be back this weekend with more so stay tuned!
Parts (3-4/13)
If you’re here and the following parts have been posted, just keep reading!
This is a Sonic fanfiction written as a gift to my best friend. I honestly don’t care what you do as long as it isn’t copy-and-pasting this on another website. Make fan comics, commentaries, animations, art, games, translations—knock yourself out. No need to ask!
Notes:
There is nothing in this index. Check the next chapter!
Chapter 4: Drip-Drop Zone
Summary:
I’ve never finished a Sonic game! Don’t tell the fans please!
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Drip-Drop Zone, ya know?
Exactly what it sounds like.
It’s the thingy water does—
Except here, the drips just get you wet.
The drops? They crush your body into soggy bone paste.
And it’s everywhere . Especially in the AIR .
Massive water planetoids orbit a temple from some broken timeline—dripping, quiet, calm, until they dump entire oceans like Heaven’s plumbing gave out.
Wait—reverse that.
Swim, and you’ll learn real fast:
These aren’t fountains. They’re wells to Hell.
The water doesn’t fall—it flows up, floods down, erupts again.
You don’t just drown. You get squeezed to toothpaste, then you drown—if you’re somehow still alive.
Tails squints at the glyphs etched along the walls—code-like, twitchy.
Around him, mossy roots crawl up sandstone.
The spires punch into the sky like snapped-off teeth.
Then—
Drip… Drop…
Drip. Drop.
Drip, drop.
Drip—drop.
Drip-DROP!
The world splashes to life.
Water walls him in, blinding, deafening, trapping him in a reverse aquarium.
It rains down, then vanishes.
A breath. Steam rises from shattered stone.
Sonic slides in, smug as if he just watched a toddler get nuked by a water bucket.
“Cool. Deadly. Nothin’ I can’t outrun. I like it.”
Tails is frozen—half-fascinated, half-shaking.
He mutters, “These aren’t natural. It’s like… it’s stuck loading water. Like corrupted behavior code—glitched AI or…”
Sonic chuckles, already strolling toward danger.
“If you really can’t stop talkin’…don’t stand still.”
He glances back, dry.
“Would suck if you gave that waterfall another chance—and it didn’t miss.”
Tails watches the wader fade, leaving only the distant echo of another drip… drop…
His mind spins on the record player the glyphs had turned themselves into.
He walks forward slowly, paw outstretched toward a glimmering puddle still pooled over stone. It’s unnaturally still, glassy, like the surface of a turned-off monitor.
He taps it.
Nothing.
Takes a step—moss, and then…
Something hard. Not stone.
Another.
And another.
Tip-tap. Tip-tap.
Metal?
Can’t be. But then again—
He kneels, claws twitching as he pulls out a wire and a broken Mama Caterkiller chip from the hammerspace behind his ear. Cracks it open, cross-referencing the pulsing light against the glyphs.
His voice rings off the damp, cavernous walls.
“These symbols—aren’t just decoration. They’re logical. Directives. Subroutines… Maybe this temple’s a control center. Maybe the water behavior is intentional.”
Sonic leans sideways on one leg, watching like someone forced to babysit a science fair project.
“So what, the water’s got a boss? ‘Scuse me while I go punch a cloud—”
Tails doesn’t look up. “No. This code is too specific. It’s like… someone put thought into it.”
Sonic leans in, voice syrupy with sticky speculation, “You know a little too much, pal.”
He smirks, giving a teasing point. “Are you the mastermind?”
Tails stares into the puddle again, hypnotized.
The reflection flickers—not his face. Not quite.
The fur’s darker. The eyes wrong.
“…Maybe… this is what built me …” he whispers.
Sonic’s ears flick.
“Built? You’re not a toaster, genius.”
Tails looks over his shoulder, eyes uncertain.
“They why don’t I remember anything? Shouldn’t I have something? A name, a day, a—birthday?! Parents?!”
Silence.
Then a soft drip… drop…
The puddle he touched earlier twitches.
Shifts.
Rises.
Sonic’s head jerks. “Uh—”
A tentacle erupts from the floor, crashing into the temple ceiling, splitting stone and moss, dislodging a rain of cracked tiles. Tails topples, ears ringing.
The puddle wasn’t a puddle.
It was the Emperor Jellyfish’s eye .
For a moment—nothing but the creak of strained roots and the drip of unsettled water.
Then, the tentacles snap back to the floor like chained beasts retreating into the underworld.
Tails, breathing heavy, blinks down.
Buzzing.
A vibration on the soles of his feet.
He looks—then—
ZAP!
A flash of light—he jerks around, water jolting up his legs like lightning through a wire. It’s not fatal, just sharp. Short. Enough to stagger.
Sonic, untouched, laughs.
The arcs of blue electricity surge up his arms, lighting his grin like a neon sign.
“Oho yeah—let’s make this zappy.”
He stomps once, fists clenched, fur bristling with hyper-blue voltage. He’s loving this.
Tails, stumbling, drops to one knee on the slick “stone”. But the Emperor Jellyfish rises, glowing from within, its titanium form hiding only a fraction of the bio-circuitry’s core lights. Tentacles slither behind it like loose wires in water.
Tails is still on top.
Sonic watches, wide-eyed, a moviegoer on the frontmost seat of a theater.
Time to get interactive.
Spool—coil…
Tails steadies himself—then slips, skidding off the creature’s dome, sliding down its wet, oddly warm armor—
And falls.
Splash .
Gone beneath.
For a moment, just a paw—reaching up through the moss surface.
Then even that’s swallowed.
Sonic groans. “Seriously?”
He launches—a burst of speed that slices through the temple’s tropic cavern air.
He blitzes through two tentacles, ricochets off a wall, impales the jellyfish’s central core with a flying strike—then spirals from ceiling to water in one long kinetic blur.
Sonic dives in.
Underwater silence.
Two types of shapes meet—panicked eyes and glowing ones.
Sonic grabs Tails and throws him out like a wet football.
Tails slaps onto the stone floor, coughing, shivering.
Sonic resurfaces, still sparking, jogging in place. He watches as the Emperor Jellyfish trembles, wounded but not finished.
It zeroes in on him.
“C’mon, just crash already.”
Sonic bolts, baiting it out of the temple and into the courtyard beyond.
The jellyfish follows, ignoring the stunned Tails.
A tentacle lashes out, hitting stone behind him. Sonic runs up to it, then kick-flips off—his shoes shred the creature’s face in a shower of static. The jellyfish topples, core flickering.
Tails limps out, scanning the debris, already mumbling to himself.
He ignores the shallow water—toe-pads buzzing again—and dives into the wreck, pawing through wires and glowing oil.
“Guardian behavior… programmed aggression… defending this zone from intruders. Then why’d it attack me?”
An exhale.
“Unless—I’m not supposed to be here either.”
Oil cakes his fur. Static dances on his skin.
He runs a hand down over his eye, streaking it black.
“But—I could almost understand the glyphs. The subtext…”
He writes on a panel. Glyphs flow like he was the original scribe.
“But then I can’t actually read it… I must be doing it from photographic memory…”
He glances at the temple behind him. “Why doesn’t this make any sense…?”
Sonic, watching from the courtyard exit, rolls his eyes. But then notices—
The air is humming. Tails’ fur lifts.
Sonic’s ears twitch. “Oh no—”
He runs, scoops up Tails, hurls him like a sack of batteries—
BOOM!
A violent electrical discharge from the Emperor Jellyfish corpse rips through the courtyard floor. Even Sonic stumbles back, shaking off the burn.
Tails crashes back down, spinning tails acting like a crash cushion. He lands hard in shallow water, dazed.
Sonic grabs his scruff, face grim.
“We gotta get outta here.”
What follows is a breathless montage—
—Scaling broken temple stairs.
—Wading knee-deep through buzzwater.
—Jumping collapsing stone bridges.
—Sonic in front, Tails babbling behind.
“I don’t think it attacked out of instinct—what if the glyphs match my energy signature? What if I’m connected to it? I was in something like it. Maybe I’m a failsafe. Or a signal. Or—”
“Or maybe,” Sonic cuts in, “you just attract trouble, like me.”
Tails flinches. For once, a theory of Sonic’s cuts deep.
Maybe it’s not destiny.
Maybe he’s just… attached to the wrong thing.
His brain slows. The theories quiet. And instead, he begins watching Sonic. His grip on him. His speed. The fact then when it mattered—
He came back.
Tails speaks, softly.
“Maybe I’m tied to you. Maybe… that’s the point.”
But before Sonic can answer—
“WOAH!”
A huge sigh escapes him.
Ahead, framed by drifting mist and rising steam—
A floating tribal village.
Softly lit. Lanterns swinging.
And—inhabited.
Sonic grins wide.
“Fricking finally. Civilization.”
Hey, SUPER reader!
Reached the end? No new parts? Don’t worry! Lost World will be back this weekend with more so stay tuned!
Parts (3-4/13)
If you’re here and the following parts have been posted, just keep reading!
This is a Sonic fanfiction written as a gift to my best friend. I honestly don’t care what you do as long as it isn’t copy-and-pasting this on another website. Make fan comics, commentaries, animations, art, games, translations—knock yourself out. No need to ask!
Notes:
Emperor Jellyfish: Tier III Badnik. Near-identical to its “Jellyfish” counterpart from the Sonic Superstars canon event.
Did its directive ever update?
Status: Operated by the Eggman Empire. Dormant.
Chapter 5: Waka-Water Village
Summary:
Did you know? I’m trying to set up a phone line on AO3!
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
The sun bakes the floating platforms of Waka-Water Village, a gravity-defying archipelago of mossy straw huts and suspended bridges. Glowing lanterns swing in the breeze. Tails’ ears flick up in awe.
Sonic steps off the stone of the temple ruins and into sunlight, breathing in freedom.
Boring freedom.
“Safe spot. You stay here. I’ll figure crap out.”
He gestured vaguely toward the blue yonder.
Tails doesn’t even hear him.
The moment they’re in the village proper, a crowd of ocelots swarms from huts and decks. Painted, agile, half-clad in tribal armor. Some gasp. Others cheer.
The village chief—an ocelot with broad shoulders, scars, and an enormous glaive—steps forward.
“You defeated the Emperor Jellyfish?”
Sonic raises a finger. “ We— ”
“A thousand suns bless your blades.”
There’s no weapons on the blue guy.
“Or—quills.”
The crowd bows low.
Sonic sneaks a glance around, confused.
“In a raid many moons ago,” the chief explains—
Sonic’s brows fall. Feet tap. This'll be a while.
“—we destroyed the creature’s mortal engine—freed the one trapped inside its shell. But the jellyfish… persisted. A body without will. Dormant, until you disturbed it. An impossible Badnik, until you vanquished it.”
Badnik.
The world sparks like a flint on steel in Sonic’s mind.
Why is that so… familiar?
“You’ve freed us. And so—you are due a gift.”
The chief claps once.
An officer carries forward a small, obsidian bowl. Inside—
A gemstone. Burning. Cosmic teal.
“A gift only a warrior as strong as you must presumably know how to possess, as we do not.”
Sonic takes it, rolls it across his knuckles.
“Per the words that stir in our hearts… this is a Chaos Emerald…”
That name—
Power. Pain. Faces.
Happy. Sad. Relieved. Mortified.
A word at the core of it all—Super.
It crashes through Sonic’s mind like a dream clawing its way to reality.
A memory that never finished loading.
Nuh-uh. Not dealin’ with that.
He blinks hard. Hands it to Tails without looking.
“Go ahead. Theorize it or whatever.”
His voice almost holds.
Tails nearly drops it, pupils growing with wonder.
“There… there is so much condensed energy! Look—”
“Ah-uh. Theorize to yourself.”
Sonic rolls his shoulders.
The zoomies are gone, but there’s another drive tightening his muscles.
The chief swung back like a door, hand gesturing to the village.
“We offer solace in our village. Waka-Water Village.”
Sonic is already walking into the village, stifling laughter.
Tails doesn’t follow.
He’s too fascinated. With everything.
He pokes around the village. Huts. Trinkets. Ritual drums. Ancient theories carved into canoe paddles.
And nearly walks off the edge.
His heels slips. The world tips. The blue below yawns.
Sonic zips in, yanks his scruff, and sets him down.
“ Okay . Guess I’m babysitting here , too.”
Tails is unfazed. He’s already eyeing the locals, tails twitching.
Dialogue time!
Tails approaches an elder on a straw chair.
“Do you know who made the temple?”
The elder squints.
“Never built. Just… there.”
Tails blinks, like he’s buffering.
Sonic crosses his arms.
“Yeah, helpful.”
Tails moves on, approaching another elder.
“Who do you think made the temple?”
“Hmm… not whoever put the jellyfish robot in there.”
Tails perks up. Sonic looks increasingly like someone who walked into the wrong side quest.
Then—
A mother and son, reading together under a windchime.
“Hey! Are you a librarian?”
She glances up. “Why, yes! Though not one of a collection that a fox boy would like.”
No reaction.
Not a word.
Not a nod.
He’s on his knees.
Tails draws the temple glyphs in the dirt.
“Do you know what these are?”
The mother goes pale. She shields her child.
“Keep your demonic incantations away from my baby!”
Tails stumbles back. Sonic laughs too hard.
“Tails, my man—”
He grabs Tails’ shoulders, shaking them. He pushes his point through gritted teeth.
Gloved fingers sink deeper like he’s trying to find the “skip dialogue” button.
“We don’t need to talk to these people.”
The words of a player-one who really wants to run.
Tails recollects himself, sniffs, and finds a fisherman.
“How long has the jellyfish thing been in the temple?”
The fisherman hauls up his impossibly long line, drawing a fish from all the blue void below.
“Since I blinked into existence!”
Tails leaves. Fast.
Another “I just blinked” person?!
Sonic watches him go, frowning.
“I’m starting to think my origin’s not that special, huh.”
Tails wanders in silence.
Nothing is truly ancient here.
Not the people. Not the ruins.
Everything only feels old, stage sets rather than real ruins.
A history with no history.
A father runs past, chasing his son.
A grounded family.
Everyone has directives. Instincts—fake? Maybe. Memories that were easily fabricated.
Except him.
Tails has nothing.
No instincts.
No past.
No mission.
Just… Sonic.
Standing tall.
Blue with electric life the sky envied.
A hurricane of power and freedom.
Nature roaring for the lifeline of adventure.
Was Tails’—well, nothing —enough for him?
Hopefully.
In just a second—Sonic could be gone.
Faster without what Tails saw on himself.
Dead weight.
So many questions.
They need answers.
The two walk a thin mangrove bridge. The Chaos Emerald sits in Tails’ hand. The air smells of spice and ocean.
Sonic kicks a pebble off the edge.
“I dunno if this is worth it.”
Tails’ fists tighten.
“It has to be.”
Sonic doesn’t face him.
“All you’re doing is digging yourself a bigger pit.”
Tails halts mid-step.
He nods.
Quietly.
Painfully.
No.
His head snaps up.
“I can do this.”
Suddenly—a new voice.
An armored warrior approaches. Tribal tattoos. Glaive in hand. Eyes sharp as knives.
He sizes up Sonic, then Tails.
“You’ve fought together?”
Sonic winces. “Eh.”
Tails hesitates. “Kinda…”
The warrior punches his fist together, saluting them both.
“A brotherhood.”
He eyes the fox with spruce eyes—oddly soft.
“And I see you are looking for answers. Perhaps, ones to your own self?”
Tails nods, a little too fast. Swallows hard.
“Hmm.”
The warrior smiles—a slow, approving thing.
“You are already something rare. A fighter. And even more, a brother.”
He rests a hand on Tails’ shoulder.
“Accept this.”
Tails’ fur bristles.
The warrior continues.
“This is who you are.”
The fox’s cheek turns for a tiny grin.
Sonic crosses his arms. Glares.
A thank you for the heavy-handed lesson more numbing than a fatal strike from that glaive.
Speaking of numb—
A soft whirr.
The faint tug of torque from Tails’ rear.
He looks down.
His tails… are spinning.
Faster.
He floats—just an inch off the ground. A light hover.
Sonic catches it.
The warrior watches.
Then Tails notices—and immediately drops, surprised.
“Wait—I—I didn’t do that on purpose.”
Before they can reflect—
BUZZZZZZZZ.
A monstrous, mechanical hum rolls across the village.
Rageful. Deafening.
Sonic straightens.
Tails stiffens.
The floating village begins to vibrate.
And in the clouds—
Something massive stirs.
Hey, SUPER reader!
Reached the end? No new parts? Don’t worry! Lost World will be back this weekend with more so stay tuned!
Parts (5-6/13)
If you’re here and the following parts have been posted, just keep reading!
This is a Sonic fanfiction written as a gift to my best friend. I honestly don’t care what you do as long as it isn’t copy-and-pasting this on another website. Make fan comics, commentaries, animations, art, games, translations—knock yourself out. No need to ask!
Notes:
There is nothing in this index. Check the next chapter!
Chapter 6: Queen Mosquito
Summary:
Did you know? A lot of the plot and enemies were inspired by Super Mario GGGGGAAAAALLLLLAAAAAXXXXXYYYYY!!!
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Trivia time!
What do mosquitoes have?
Wings?
Yes.
An appetite for blood?
Also yes.
A purple titanium shell with a reinforced head, abdomen, and thorax?
Yup.
A grappling hook for a nose?
THWOM!
The Queen Mosquito’s needle crashes into a house onto the village’s edge. Bells ring. Chaos ignites. Warriors scramble. Families scatter.
This thing isn’t just a bug.
It’s a siege engine with wings.
The warrior reaches for his glaive—
But a hand catches his arm.
“I got this,” Sonic says, calm but electric.
“Lemme go for a spin.”
He zips forward, blur against wooden bridges and mossy platforms.
Tails doesn’t follow. His eyes are fixed on the monster above.
Purple wings hum like chainsaws. The hook nose retracts with a shudder.
A heavy hand lands on Tails’ shoulder.
“Fight with him,” the warrior says. “Use your tails. I know a great weapon when I see one.”
Tails glances back—
His shadow twists under him. The twin tails spiral like coiled snakes.
Above, the Queen Mosquito turns—
Its red optics blink. Its jaw buzzes open.
Target acquired.
The fight explodes.
The mosquito jabs downward, piercing rooftops.
Needle charges.
It fires.
Sonic strafes left, pivots right, leaps—
Lands on the cable.
He rockets up with the line like a missile, knees bent, teeth bared—
BAM.
Glass shatters. One eye down.
“That’ll teach ya not to be so nosy !”
He flips off the impact, spinning low. Wings slice at him.
He drills into the backplate.
A dent.
Not enough.
The Queen rotates midair, belly-up—
Spikes deploy from its underside.
Sonic grabs the tail. The machine spirals wildly, climbing.
This fight’s something else.
Faster. Meaner. Uglier than the Mama Caterkiller.
Then—
He sees something clinging to the head.
“ TAILS ?!”
Sonic pulls himself closer.
“What’re you
DOING
?!”
“ Found the weak spot! ” Tails yells, wind whipping his voice.
The Badnik flips again.
Sonic nearly slips, but hangs on—
Then blasts a spin-jump into the wing’s servo—
CRACK.
It jams.
Blades cut into the power core.
Boom.
Blue fire ruptures the air.
The Queen dips—falling, fast.
“You weren’t supposed to do it like THAT !” Tails yells.
“And you weren't supposed to be UP HERE !” Sonic fires back.
But t here’s no time to argue.
The core detonates.
The head ejects. Tails is still attached.
Sonic’s flung in the other direction, tumbling through sky and void.
He spots Tails—falling fast. Too far to catch.
And then—
YANK!
Tails disappears upward.
Sonic spirals down. Ocean rushes up.
Waves—he’s close enough to see them.
YANK!
Something slows his fall—then crashes over him.
Both bodies hit the water hard.
Underwater.
Sonic kicks away. Sees Tails. He’s still spinning.
Tails clenches his fists.
Then jets upward—tail-propeller firing.
Sonic surfaces, gasping.
“You… you
FLEW?!
”
Tails nods, sheepish.
Paddles in awkward circles.
“I—I think so.”
“Ohh—
frick
.” Sonic coughs.
Saltwater burns.
“Thanks for nothin’.”
Tails blinks.
“I—I saved you!”
“I can swim outta anything.”
Sonic flicks water out of his ear, grumbling.
“Don’t need floaties.”
Tails hesitates, then dips underwater—
A moment.
He resurfaces, sputtering.
“Do you see these waves? The latent height—no land for—uh—”
He throws his arms wide. “A lot!”
Sonic just glares. Cold.
Tails frowns, voice cracking.
“Why are you
so mean
?!”
A beat.
Sonic sighs.
“Look, pal… I’m a force-a-nature.”
He watches Tails struggle to tread water.
Softer now:
“You’re a kid.”
Sonic looks away.
Quiet.
“And… I think you’re cool.”
He twists his wrists like he’s trying to align his friendship with an analogue console.
“I’m not quite used to—ya know.”
Tails exhales, eyes squinting against the sun.
“Do you
really know
who you are?”
Way out of left field.
Sonic stops treading.
Almost too short to notice.
He shrugs, almost proudly.
“I’m not a complicated guy. I run. Stuff happens.”
He grins. Like that explains everything.
But Tails doesn’t smile back. He’s staring
through
Sonic.
“Hey.” Sonic nudges. “Weird stuff’s goin’ down.”
“Starting to look like… you’re the only real ‘player’ here.”
Tails looks down.
Saltwater ripples over his reflection. It doesn’t ripple back.
“But I have nothing.” He mutters.
“Nothing makes sense.”
Sonic raises a brow.
“That’s how I know I’m right. Nothing makes sense to you.”
A beat.
“Like—the player of any game, right? Some rando outta the loop, tryin’ to piece things together.”
Tails shakes his head—harder with each swing.
“No. No… someone not real wouldn’t know that.”
He squints into the water.
Still no reflection.
Just light. Just noise.
Sonic hesitates—just for a blink.
Tails catches it. Stops.
“No—”
The Blur grins.
“Pfft. I’m, like, some sorta god-thing. Tryin’ to keep ya on track.”
He offers a hand. Winks.
“Besides—if ya can argue with me…”
He nods at Tails, a little too fast.
“You’re real.”
Tails stares at the hand.
Then past him.
A beat.
“Sonic?”
“What now?” Sonic sighs, drier than sandpaper.
Can’t believe he just ignored that monologue!
Tails blinks.
Points.
“…Was that island there earlier?”
Hey, SUPER reader!
Reached the end? No new parts? Don’t worry! Lost World will be back this weekend with more so stay tuned!
Parts (5-6/13)
If you’re here and the following parts have been posted, just keep reading!
This is a Sonic fanfiction written as a gift to my best friend. I honestly don’t care what you do as long as it isn’t copy-and-pasting this on another website. Make fan comics, commentaries, animations, art, games, translations—knock yourself out. No need to ask!
Notes:
Queen Mosquito: Tier III Badnik. Near-identical to its “Mosquito” counterpart from the Superstars canon event.
Insectile mosquitos are always out for blood. But a Badnik?—no, it would still have at least some coordination.
Chapter 7: White Space
Summary:
‘E’ and ‘M’ should NOT be the most common letter on this website. Somebody’s receiving a prayer or two.
Chapter Text
The island—
Familiar. Too familiar.
Like they’d already walked on it. Dreamed it.
The former being the most probable. The latter being the general feel of this chaos.
Now?
The island is ripped from the sky and dropped into the ocean like a prop.
Sonic narrows his eyes.
And then—
Ope. It’s gone.
Replaced by:
White.
Endless white. Not fog. Not light.
Absence.
A floor. A ceiling. No shadows. Just a razor-thin black border.
A skybox. A cage. Maybe both.
WHITE SPACE.
Sonic spins in place, scratching the back of his head.
Something about this place buzzes behind the eyes.
“Tails?” he calls. The echo drowns just before it surfaces.
“Sonic?”
They spin—
And bump into each other.
“Do you think the island’s still here?” Sonic asks, unsure if he’s joking.
Tails stares at the nothingness, clutching his chest.
“How did we get here?”
“That goofy rock?” Sonic shrugs.
Tails digs into hammerspace—
The teal Chaos Emeralds glints in his palm.
Alive. Thrumming.
“It… would’ve taken just me ,” he murmurs, “Only me…”
Sonic frowns, eyes sweeping the horizon like equations are forming in midair.
“Maybe we’re linked.”
“How do you know?”
He tries not to answer.
Fails.
“Because I feel it.”
Tails winces.
“Feeling doesn’t mean anything.”
“So when you’re in pain?” Sonic fires back, teasing but tense.
Tails gives a crooked smile.
It doesn’t last.
“None of this makes sense.”
Sonic turns back.
“Betcha can’t find any evidence against me.”
But he freezes.
The floor shimmers.
A ripple.
White gel oozes upward
Mercury in reverse.
It twists.
Solidifies.
Forms—
Him.
Sonic.
But… not quite.
Shorter. Rounder.
Classic.
The relic raises a hand.
Waves.
Sonic instinctively waves back.
“…What the—”
He takes a step forward.
Doesn’t know why.
He reaches out—
Presses a hand to its chest.
The figure ripples.
Morphs.
Now taller.
Lean. Streamlined.
That old adventure stance.
Its voice echoes:
“Green Hill’s looking a lot like Sand Hill right now.”
Sonic blinks.
That rhythm—
That feeling—
It is him.
His breath catches.
He grips the figure’s shoulder.
Another shift.
Bandana. Longer limbs.
Running in place like a dog on a skating rink.
“Look, a ramp!”
Beat.
“Watch out for the poles, they hurt!”
Beat.
“Man, this is fast!”
Sonic winces.
Hard.
“…Poles don’t matter. You run through them.”
He’s annoyed. More than annoyed.
Unsettled.
These ghosts are mocking him. Distorting him.
Or—not?
No.
They’re defining Sonic.
Defining him.
One step further, and he’s not the Sonic anymore.
He’s versions.
He kicks the echo.
It crumples—
Shifts again.
Now sharper. Stylized. Like a comic book.
Kneeling. Calm.
Too calm.
“I live for the moment. I want to see the world. Find all its thrills and adventures, and enjoy them.”
Sonic’s throat tightens.
His mouth goes dry.
“…Who… am I?” he whispers.
Not fake.
Not a glitch.
Not the first.
Just the next one in line.
“I want everyone to have the freedom to do that, too.” the echo continues, “And you wouldn’t get the opportunity if I took that chance away from you.”
That voice—
The calm certainty—
The purity—
It sounds more like him than he does.
His fists curl.
No.
No.
That’s now how this works.
“I’ve made peace with enough enemies—”
He punches.
Time slows.
His fist bursts through the echo’s chest.
Gell explodes.
Ripples fly outward—
Ten.
Fifty.
Hundreds.
They morph mid air.
Faces.
Bodies.
Selves.
Endless enemies.
Eggman. Chaos. Infinite. Zavok. Dark Gaia. Mephiles. Lyric. Surge. Black Doom. Tenebris.
Each locked in their own timeline.
Each locked in their greatest battle.
But none of them are fighting him .
They’re fighting Sonics.
Each a hero.
Each giving the final blow.
And White Space watches.
And then—
They watch.
Forms rise from puddles of shattered villains.
Not enemies.
Friends.
Sally Acorn.
First to emerge. Hair in soft waves. The vest. The fire in her eyes.
She doesn't speak—but the feeling strikes hard.
Something unspoken. Unresolved.
He steps toward her.
His throat tightens.
He wants to say her name. But he doesn’t.
He’s not the right Sonic.
She fades.
Amy.
Younger, hopeful.
Then—older, stronger.
Everything in between.
The Amys flicker between forms.
Each one reaching for him.
Never quite making contact.
Knuckles.
Staring off, arms crossed.
No words. Just presence.
Far from the Master Emerald he swore to protect like always.
A mountain Sonic could never climb—nor needed to.
Then…
Shadow.
Face unreadable.
Chaos energy pulses his outline like a dying star.
“You’re not ready for the pain of holding on,” Shadow says.
Sonic turns, startled by the voice coming from everywhere—
But when he turns back, Shadow’s already gone.
More arrive.
Charmy. Vector. Espio. Antoine. Bunnie. Blaze. Silver. Omega. Rouge. Cream.
A crowd of lives.
Some smiling.
Some confused.
Some flickering like an old cartoon.
The Avatar from Forces stands tall, but empty-eyed.
Not even they remember what war they fought for.
Sonic backs away, stumbling.
He sees lives he once saved.
Stories he forgot.
Stories he was torn from.
Laughter. Screams.
Losses.
They circle him.
Not attacking.
Not speaking in unison.
But one by one—
Voice from time-fractured mouths.
“Do you remember us, Sonic?”
“Or is this another ‘new’ you?”
“New problems. New solutions.”
“I wish I could see them all.”
“I wish I could be there with you.”
Each one feels like a gust through his chest.
He wants to run—but there’s nowhere to go.
No land. No wind. No now.
Just them.
Just echoes.
Just regret.
The White Space ripples.
And they begin to fade.
One by one.
Until only one figure stands.
Tails.
Alone.
Not a memory.
Not a ghost.
The real one.
Tears line his face.
“I’m not real …” he whispers.
The air holds its breath.
White. Still. Heavy.
Sonic drops to his knees.
The whum of impact doesn’t echo.
He tries to stand.
His legs jitter—
Like snapped springs—
He crimples again.
Nothing hurts.
That’s what makes it worse.
Then—Tails speaks.
Soft.
Like a microscopic blade pressed between ribs.
“But… but you are…”
And that breaks something.
A scream tears loose—
Primal.
Ugly.
Wordless.
No cleverness.
No speed.
Just raw grief.
He slams his fists into the floor—gel splatters like whiteout ink.
Sobs come next.
Mean.
Ragged.
He tries to stop.
He can’t.
He claws at nothing beneath him—
Grabs at the air like it could become hands.
“They weren’t just friends,” he chokes.
They were the parts that made a Sonic.
Sonics have friends.
That’s why they make jokes.
That’s why they fight bad guys.
That’s why they run.
He had none of that.
Sally.
Amy.
Knuckles.
Rotor.
Even Antoine’s stupid cowardly grin.
It didn’t matter where they came from.
Didn’t matter what was canon, or true, or scripted.
He needs them.
Without them?
Just a voice.
Just a glitch.
Just a speedster without a finish line.
Nobody’s left to outrun.
Wait— Tails ?
None of the phantoms are Tails.
Not one.
Sonic looks up—
More images form.
But they aren’t warm.
They’re… fractured .
Something with two tails.
All in a dozen universes:
Getting laughed at.
Being sidelined.
Forgotten.
Mocked.
Boom’s empty smirk—
“You’re just comic relief, buddy.”
Archie’s glare—
“He’ll get over it.”
A cold montage of someone …
Whoever they are…
Not a friend.
Tails stumbles back.
He grips the Chaos Emerald like it could tell him who he is.
“Is… Is that me…?
His voice is tiny.
Frightened.
He looks like a child.
Because he is .
No memories.
No depth.
Just a shell painted in yellow and genius.
Sonic stares at him.
Then looks past him.
This… is who he stayed for ?
The weight in his gut curdles.
Tails wasn’t the anchor.
He wasn’t the real player.
He was the placeholder.
Something to hold onto when nothing else was there.
But now…
There is something.
The real world.
The real friends.
The real stakes.
They’re all just taken.
And he wants them back.
Not this .
Not a stand-in.
Not a reflection.
Sonic turns away.
Doesn’t say a word.
Because what is there left to say to something that’s not even…
Real.
Silence.
Then—
A shimmer.
A pulse in the air—like time itself hiccuped.
A figure blinks into place ahead, cloaked in red-pixel fog.
Quills like chrome fire.
Eyes glowing with future-worn urgency.
“You finally blinked in…”
Hey, SUPER reader!
Reached the end? No new parts? Don’t worry! Lost World will be back this weekend with more so stay tuned!
Parts (7-8/13)
If you’re here and the following parts have been posted, just keep reading!
This is a Sonic fanfiction written as a gift to my best friend. I honestly don’t care what you do as long as it isn’t copy-and-pasting this on another website. Make fan comics, commentaries, animations, art, games, translations—knock yourself out. No need to ask!
Chapter 8: Silver (Lie)nings
Chapter Text
Silver.
But not the one Sonic knew.
The aqua energy?
Now glowing red, cracked like overheating reactors.
Gold cuffs now ashen steel.
A jagged burn streaks across his cheek like lightning caught mid-strike.
The poncho—that’s new. Soot-stained. A soldier’s shroud.
His voice is low.
Flat.
Final.
“You’re always where you don’t belong.”
No greeting.
No warmth.
Not for Sonic.
Not anymore.
The Blur flinches.
The ground flickers.
Gel bleeds upwards, stretching—trying to form faces. Shapes. Friends.
Silver sees it.
His eyes widen.
His brow knits.
And then—he slams it all down.
Psychokinesis screams red across the void.
His jaw tightens. Teeth grit.
Sonic lunges forward—desperate—for a half-formed memory—
Amy. Injured. Reaching for him.
Then—she’s crushed.
Chunk-by-chunk.
Chomped to pieces by starving, angry crimson pixels.
“Wait—” Sonic gasps. “I need that—!”
“No you don’t.”
Silver’s voice is too quick. Too defensive. Too afraid.
Sonic’s hands tremble. “Why?”
Silver doesn't blink. “Because of what happened.”
White Space fractures.
Pixelated ghosts of Silver ripple through the chaos—snapping in and out of sync.
A hundred fragmented silhouettes orbit him like a storm of static.
Two things stay constant in all of them—
Fear.
And anger.
“Because of what can happen.”
Tails winces, lifting his foot away from the memory-flooded ground.
“Please…” Sonic’s voice cracks.
The gel tries to resurface, choked to a whimper.
Silver snaps.
“Shut up!”
Reality cracks.
White Space stutters.
The ghosts scatter.
The memories struggle no longer—suffocated.
Everything runs from him—everything except Sonic’s stare.
And in that stare—rage and grief crushed into one another.
This Silver isn’t the future boy scout he knew.
Sonic’s voice is low. Furious.
“I did NOTHING! I—!”
His fists explode downward, clenched.
“I JUST GOT HERE! I haven't done anything!”
The words shake the void like thunder.
Silver doesn’t reply.
Because maybe—just maybe—speaking will make something horrifying…
Real…
Sonic hits nine on the richter scale.
“This isn’t the Super Genesis Wave. This isn’t The End. This isn’t Metal Virus.”
Sucks in a breath—
“I. Did. NOTHING! I. Just. BLINKED!”
Silver doesn’t respond.
He looks at Tails.
Three seconds too long.
Tails stares, frozen.
The Chaos Emerald pulses softly in his hands.
Silver’s eyes linger.
“I need that.”
Tails steps back.
“Who… who are you?”
His voice is barely above water.
Sonic staggers to his feet, teeth bared.
“Silver—what is wrong with you?!”
Silver doesn’t flinch.
“The Chaos Emerald.”
A faint crack in his voice—hope.
Or pity. Self-pity.
“I need it to fix things.”
Sonic roars, stepping forward.
“Fix WHAT?!”
His arms thrust toward the ground.
“Fix THIS!”
Silver holds up a hand, calm but tense.
He’s someone trying to defuse a nuclear mine.
“Something that’s for me to forget and for you to never find out.”
He glances toward Tails again, this time softer.
“We’ve made our sacrifices already. I just need the final favor.”
Tails blinks, confused.
“We?”
Sonic’s voice breaks like glass.
“Bring them back…”
“Please.”
“Sally. Knux. Amy. All of them. I—I can’t feel them anymore.”
“Did you ever?”
Silver. Through the cracks. Frigid.
“Just bring them back…”
Sonic’s knees threaten to twist out of their sockets.
“They were never here.”
“Jus’— please .”
Silver lowers his gaze.
“That’s not how this wor—”
Sonic’s voice claws through the lump in his throat.
“Bring. Them. Back.”
Silver takes a step forward, palms slicing down like he’s laying out ancient tablets.
Tablets he had been around to write himself.
“That’s not how this works.”
So does Sonic with grief’s limp.
He growls through fanged canines.
“How do you know?”
Silver snaps air between his jobs.
“I’ve been up here for months! Alone! Putting the pieces together.”
Then—it shatters.
“You don’t think there’s people I want to bring back?”
Sonic snaps, frantic.
“If you can—you get the Emerald!”
Vein-channels of power surge in Silver’s cuffs.
“I’m getting it one way or the other.”
Tails grips the Emerald tighter, breath shallow. Heart pounding.
“Shut UP!”
Sonic’s eyes flare.
“You're behind all of this!”
He stomps a foot. The sheer force breaks the no-echo rule.
“Do. It. Now.”
“I can’t !”
Sonic steps forward.
Again.
Again.
One last step from Silver. Face-to-face.
“Bring. Them. Back. To. Me.”
“Then you get the Emerald.”
His steps stagger, fall out of rhythm.
A body—not his, suddenly heavy.
Impossibly heavy.
Sonic’s standing—
Then—in the air.
White Space flips.
—On the ground.
Red psychokinesis crackles around his body.
It reaches and retracts to the beat of his thrumming skull.
Silver stands above him.
Hands out.
Irises glowing red.
He lifts his head—but won’t look at anyone.
He steeples his fingers.
TEARS through the air.
White Space screams. Fractures.
All beneath his grip.
A rift yawns open. A window.
To green.
To somewhere where the memories were even further.
“You have to go.”
Sonic stands. Wipes tears he didn’t notice falling.
Stares at the world beyond.
“But—”
“Toss me the Emerald.”
Tails, shaking, takes Sonic’s hand.
Pulls him toward the breach.
But Silver calls out, over the collapsing sky:
“Please. I need the Emerald!”
Tails clutches it tighter.
Sonic’s eyes grow dark.
Silver’s fingers feel more like blades.
He wants to rip the Emerald out of the fox’s hands.
But he has to hold the rift open.
The fox shoves himself and Sonic both through the rift.
Release—
And it’s closed.
But the footsteps remain.
“My, my. What a show!”
Silver turns.
Energy boils his fists like red fire.
“So surreal . So emotionally moving . So unique .”
Eggman.
Tall. Round. Classic.
His silhouette blots out the receding rifts.
“I’ll take all your tickets.”
Silver glares, shoulders squared.
“Where do you want to go next, Robotnik?”
“Over your body,” Eggman purrs, stroking his mustache.
To make good on his promise, the Badnik horde rolls in.
Hissing.
Screaming.
Stabbing.
Smashing.
“That Silver’s erased.”
Eggman shrugs.
“Shame. That one treated Blaze so much better.”
“Go to hell.”
“Thought you couldn’t take me there.”
Silver vanishes.
Red pixels burst like blood mist.
But Eggman knows the quills are still pointed towards him.
“Or is that just a theatrical you took as fact?”
Silver reappears behind the swarm.
Flicks his fingers.
A blade of red light slashes through the horde—
Bubble-bound Flickies scatter like confetti from broken Badniks.
He teleports again—
And again—
Slicing through the tide.
“Where are you even getting these things?”
Another squad of Stabbies.
A wall of psychic pressure slams them down.
Eggman grins, unbothered. Still within the chaos.
“A showman never spoils the illusion.”
Silver soars overhead.
“So now they’re not real?”
A blade drops.
An Egg Pawn collapses.
“They’re coming from my Eggmanland,” Eggman coos. “Which I’m building one rift manipulation at a time.”
Silver flashes like lightning—
A curtain of static-red streaks swallow the battleground.
The horde falls.
He reappears before Eggman.
Face tight with energy. Rage glowing in his eyes.
“Just like how you’re putting the world back together like a damned puzzle.”
Eggman lunges—inhumanely fast—
But Silver sees it first.
He pivots, springs off his shoulder, lands in a skid.
“Temporal foreshadowing, huh?” Eggman taunts.
Hands behind his back. Poised. Composed.
“I thought you abandoned the future.”
“Can’t change who you’re born as…”
Silver breathes.
“Can’t remove your bones.”
Eggman nods.
“Interesting.”
Offers a hand.
“Care to elaborate?”
“Not sure if it’ll stick …”
Silver spreads his fingers.
Eggman’s voice—unamused—barely rises above the metaphysical forge.
“Oh boy, you are better off as a stage prop…”
A combat staff forms—pure psychokinetic steel.
Silver spins it once.
Enters a stance built for aerial chaos.
They clash.
Strike for strike.
Teleport for counter.
Blow for block.
Every hit Silver lands sends shockwaves through the empty realm.
Eggman falters.
Finally.
Silver reaches forward—
In Eggman’s eyes—
The forest returns.
And Silver is gone.
Back in White Space—
Silver exhales.
His staff ripples away.
Dissolves into strands of red light.
He looks up.
The rift is shrinking.
Not sealed.
Not yet.
He walks toward it, slowly.
Arms reach out.
Fingers carve the silklike air.
“Always cocky.”
He jogs.
“Always running.”
He breaks into a sprint.
“Always the hero.”
The sky fractures with every step.
Cracks spiderweb across reality.
“Always flawless.”
He passes a memory—
Super Sonic, screaming in rage, fists colliding with Silver’s barrier.
“Always predictable.”
A new world peeks through the rift:
A finished continent.
A kingdom built in green.
A castle crowned by forest canopy.
And behind it all…
Not a voice.
A pressure.
“You can fix this…”
Silver closes his eyes, but he keeps running.
He passes another fragment—
Himself, standing cross-armed behind Blaze.
Her eyes are full of hurt.
A flicker of betrayal. An inevitable move of loyalty—to the wrong person.
He stumbles—
Then steadies.
Tugs his poncho—
Stops.
Stares into the rift.
Blue light. Orange light.
His visitors, watched by a ghost.
“You not understanding…”
His voice grits between teeth.
“Won’t stop me.”
He turns his face away.
And sees him.
Mephiles.
Staring back.
A vision.
A memory.
A presence.
The origin.
Silver’s breath stops cold.
“Not even you could.”
Hey, SUPER reader!
Reached the end? No new parts? Don’t worry! Lost World will be back this weekend with more so stay tuned!
Parts (7-8/13)
If you’re here and the following parts have been posted, just keep reading!
This is a Sonic fanfiction written as a gift to my best friend. I honestly don’t care what you do as long as it isn’t copy-and-pasting this on another website. Make fan comics, commentaries, animations, art, games, translations—knock yourself out. No need to ask!
Chapter 9: (D)Rift Apart
Summary:
I bet you’ll write something way past cool someday!
Chapter Text
The world is quieter now.
Too quiet.
No cracking white void.
No red light.
No memories.
Just grasslands.
They stretch endlessly beneath a sunset.
Something like a memory.
Memory.
He hated that word.
He hated himself.
Sonic lies still.
Eyes open.
Staring at nothing.
The breath in his chest rattles like dust in a bucket.
Tails kneels beside him, shaking.
Eyes wide.
Hands hovering, unsure where to touch.
“Sonic? You—you okay?”
No answer.
Just the rise and fall of tired lungs.
Sonic’s fingers curl into fists.
Uncurl.
Again.
Again.
Something keeps slipping from his grasp—
Nothing physical.
Still, heavy.
“Soni c … are you mad at me?”
A pause.
A truth never revealed.
Yes—Tails had pulled him away from them. But—
“They’re not gone.” His voice is hope dragged through shrapnel.
It bleeds more every second.
“They’re not. I know they’re not.”
He doesn’t move.
His eyes are still locked on a sky that means nothing.
Tails waits—just wants Sonic to look at him.
Sonic finally stands, jagged marionette. Breathes wrong.
He sways.
Then he sees it.
A fracture.
Thin and glowing, split across the pink sky.
Silver’s guide.
It pulses with direction.
And… something else…
It feels wrong, but…
He thinks it’s right.
And starts walking.
“Sonic, wait—!”
Tails scrambles after him, the Chaos Emerald clinking in his grip.
“We don’t even know where that goes!”
“ It does.”
“… What ?”
“ You don’t.”
His words drop like stones.
“No name…”
“Wh—?”
“Nothing in White Space…”
“Hey—”
“ They had more than you."
Tails flinches.
“Wh—what—what are you talking about?”
“Think about it, Tails—”
Tails stumbles.
“No—wait—feel. What do you feel?”
“…Nothing right.”
Tails freezes.
That stings deeper than it should.
“You’re not acting like yourself—”
Sonic turns—
A flash of fury.
“Wow… you’re damn right.”
The words crack in the air—
Canines hang like fangs.
But his breath is shaking.
As the last syllable chokes in the still air, it swings back and forth, stabbing into Sonic.
Tails only takes a dull thrum.
Thud. Thud. His processors slow.
Then—
Sonic breathes—hardly, more like hissing through a gas mask.
“I’m. Not. Myself.”
He jabs both hands into his chest.
“I’m a Sonic the Hedgehog with NOTHING that makes him real!”
He growls through grit teeth, driving his fingers into himself.
“Nothing.”
“I—I’m your friend!”
That’s the solution to the equation. It should be. The math’s right.
But Sonic—
Sonic steps in.
Hands lift—
Tails flinches—
But the impact never comes.
Instead—
A hug.
Hard. Desperate.
Too sudden to be planned.
Too gentle to be safe.
Tails stiffens—
Then melts.
He clings like a child at the edge of a cliff.
Sonic’s voice drops to a whisper:
“You can’t fix me…”
“I can’t fix you…”
He pulls back.
HIs hands shake.
His eyes are wet.
He doesn’t hide it.
“And… that’s not… cool …”
“Sonic…”
Sonic steps back.
The attempt to smile twists like cardboard under an elephant.
“You and me… different set of gears, ya know what I mean?”
Tails’ ears flick.
A beat.
“I gotta let you go.”
Tails stares.
Sonic plants a foot down.
Tails takes a shaky step forward. “Don’t go…”
Sonic coils.
Exhales.
Tails’ hand goes for Sonic’s shoulder.
Sonic’s feet spool into a figure-eight.
“Hey, I bet you’ll build a better friend than me.”
Tails can barely hear his own thoughts past the rev.
The thoughts screaming for him to grab on.
Sonic prepares to burn into motion—
“Smart as hell.”
Launches—
Not alone.
There’s a hand on his shoulder.
It’s gone before he can think it through.
STOP!
Tails hits the grass hard.
Rolls.
Pulls his body up like a bag of flechettes.
He groans—
Elbows tense.
One arm limp.
“Too fast…”
“Tails!” Sonic cries.
“What the hell?!”
What hell? His hell.
He should’ve done better.
But Tails still limps toward him.
Sonic wants to reach back to help, but Tails might grab on again.
“B…”
He can’t say it.
No.
He has to.
“Piggyback?” Tails groans, showing not only a smile, but a trail of blood down his cracked lip.
Sonic blinks.
Blinks back to their parkour over the floating islands.
“B—B…”
Say it, Sonic.
Tails’ everything—tails, ears, brows, voice—fall, but he’s still moving.
“I’ll hold on—”
Sonic swallows.
“Bye, Tails.”
Sounds like a boulder is jammed in his throat.
A beat.
Tails stops.
Sonic breathes.
A second and—
He’s gone.
Not without a dozen wrong steps.
Not without a racing heart on a broken track.
Tails stands there.
Still.
Shaking.
Watching the space where Sonic vanished.
His fingers tighten around the Chaos Emerald.
“Running again.”
The voice isn’t cruel.
Not even smug.
Just… there.
Tails whirls.
Silver stalks a few paces off, arms folded, poncho breathing in the breeze that isn’t.
“I… I think I did something wrong…” Tails mutters.
“Really?” Silver takes two steps.
Grass breaks beneath his boots.
“Sonic messed up.”
Saying that is some sort of caustic honey to Silver. Toxic by age alone.
He fights a smirk.
Tails retreats, clutching the Emerald to his chest.
“Don’t come any closer… please.”
Four eyes lock: two predator, two prey.
Silence. No predator waits—except one with sympathy.
Silver sighs—steps anyway.
“Relax. I’m not going to hurt you.”
“Promise.”
“…That’s one only you can break.”
Tails’ ears flatten.
Silver averts his gaze, feeling the recoil.
“You’re not the target. The Em—”
“You split us up.”
A flicker of red red creeps along Silver’s cuffs.
“Because I had to,” he snaps.
Then—softens. “Had to…”
“Why do you want it?” Tails’ voice shakes.
“Because I need it.”
Telekinetic ripples press the grass flat.
“With Chaos Control, I can stitch the seams, jump where I’m needed. All outside of normal time. We’re running out of time, Tails.”
“Then… then just ask.”
“You’d say no.”
Tails doesn’t argue.
Silver huffs, attention drifting—Zeus ignoring a gnat trying to play god.
“You’re smart, so—you should give it.
Silver extends a hand.
Less like he’s receiving a gift. More like he’s expecting a gun.
Tails shifts his stance, and—
Pop.
—The Emerald vanishes into hammerspace.
Silver’s eyes narrow.
He taps the obsidian cuff.
“You know I can reach in there, right?”
Tails freezes. “W-what?”
“Not easily. Not cleanly. And if you’re moving—”
“You’d tear me apart?”
“You’d tear yourself apart.”
A soft whimper from the kid.
Silver’s gaze flicks to the gloves.
Guilt, too quick to catch.
“I don't want to.” Silver says, voice iron-flat.
Fans outstretched fingers toward him.
“Emerald. I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Why did you make Sonic run?” The words crack.
A single tear slides; Silver tracks it down the boy’s cheek.
His voice softens.
“Just the way he works.”
“He’s my friend. That’s how he works.”
Silver can’t hold the stare; he looks to the trees.
“Then tell him.”
Tails’ breath jitters.
Silver squints his eyes shut.
Opens, a step closer to a kinder man.
“I just want the Emerald—wish it didn’t go this way.”
Tails steps back.
“You did this though…”
Silver glares.
Presses a hand to his temple. Bitterly sighs.
“The world’s a mess… Sonic’s a mess—”
Tails flinches.
“What’s so bad about using a bad thing?”
But Tails is running.
He doesn’t need to know where.
Silver’s shout dies in his throat. He could chase.
He lifts a hand.
Fingers twitch.
Paralyze, retrieve, done.
Close your hand.
Close it.
What are you waiting for?
“Damn me….” The whisper drips ash.
His hand falls.
Tails’ silhouette shrinks to a speck.
Silver’s fists shake.
“It’s not my fault.”
He looks up. The rift shudders, unstable.
“I’m not THE Silver ,” he thinks, “ but he’s still a part of me.”
Crack.
A tremor.
Silver’s head snaps up.
180* to chaos.
High above, a floating town—one he’s stitched with his own gloves.
Glyphs and crimson pixels explode in supernova, then flicker out like dying fireflies.
His hand erupts toward it.
“No—”
Too late.
Anything left fizzles into ashen binary.
Silver feels every life wink out.
In a heartbeat—mute.
Sight, sound, touch—fast.
They were lucky.
A psychic backlash rips the air.
And that binary?
It’s been sensed by somebody else.
Bushes rustle—once empty.
Hidden behind—an old rift small enough for an animalic bot.
Silver vanishes—
Appears in White Space.
“You better be smart, Sonic…”
His voice is cold. Brooding.
“…I’m not turning around.”
His hands pulse with energy—but the motion is slow.
Mechanical.
Detached.
His heart’s not in it.
“Because…”
The currents in his cuffs flare—violent, volatile, crawling like cracks across broken circuitry.
“…They lived…”
A stabbing breath, a voice barely audible.
“Damn it… they lived…”
“I’d rather retrieve the Emerald from a corpse.”
He raises his fist.
It trembles. Just once.
Power floods down his arm—sharp, angry surges, barely controlled.
He grimaces.
“Then take it from a child.”
Spits it like a confession. Like a curse.
A beat.
A twisted frown.
Shame dulls the flare—
Doesn’t ease the stabbing pains.
“ Damn it …” he mutters.
Louder.
“Damn it.”
Almost a shout.
“Damn me!”
Fingers—no, claws—on his cuffs.
A rip .
The power subsides.
Quaking hands hold the glove like a contaminant.
He looks at his white, scarred paws.
Then his other, geared hand.
Red.
It’s always been red.
Not blue.
Not like him.
Silver breathes deep.
Low. Tired.
Then—he slams the rift closed.
It holes before folding in on itself with a metallic shriek.
The air quivers where it vanished.
Then—memory bleeds in.
Not a flash.
Rot returning to the surface.
She flickers.
Not fast like the town.
Not lucky.
Limb by limb.
Too empty to scream.
Doesn’t stop the others from doing the same.
One grabs her.
The other reaches for something above.
Neither make contact.
Silver doesn’t blink.
Doesn’t stop it.
This time—
He lets it finish.
And it does.
Slowly.
Completely.
Silver lowers his hand.
“It is my fault…”
Hey, SUPER reader!
Reached the end? No new parts? Don’t worry! Lost World will be back this weekend with more so stay tuned!
Parts (9-10/13)
If you’re here and the following parts have been posted, just keep reading!
This is a Sonic fanfiction written as a gift to my best friend. I honestly don’t care what you do as long as it isn’t copy-and-pasting this on another website. Make fan comics, commentaries, animations, art, games, translations—knock yourself out. No need to ask!
Chapter 10: Now
Summary:
Ya know, this Sonic sounds like he looks cool. Somebody should draw him.
[] []
\__/
Chapter Text
The guide rift hums ahead, quiet now.
Soft. Whispering.
Sonic follows.
His footsteps crunch the grass.
The fields part into a gentle wooded valley.
There—cutting the horizon like a crown—rises the Kingdom of Acorn.
Marble spires.
Golden Banners.
Sunlight like honey on polished stone.
Sonic stops.
His breath catches in his throat.
“Sally…”
He smiles.
A little.
Then more.
“I knew you were still here.”
He jogs forward, tracing the river that snakes from the castle gates.
Its waters shine with sunset fire.
Sonic slows. Kneels.
The river gives him back a stranger.
His smile dies.
He looks meaner.
He feels meaner.
He looks more pained.
He is more pained.
His brow creases.
He leans closer.
“What Sonic are you ?”
He bites his tongue.
It’s bitter. Coarse.
The words still sting.
Sonics have lost verbal control before… Never at their best friend.
Best friend? No. Not in the memories. Not in White Space.
So why does it hurt like betrayal?
It still hurts to leave him.
It still feels like betrayal.
The image stares back, still.
Foreign.
Feral.
Arms “shaved” per usual Sonic—but the shoulder fur is torn like a punk’s leather jacket.
Black “eyeliner”—something Silver and Shadow sport.
Sharper quills, serrated features.
He’s not them.
Not the others.
He thinks about that.
If he’s different…
Is Sally?
He’s a speedster through quantum thought-experiments.
Thinking, not feeling, spins the machine.
Fragile tapes are placed on his supersonic reel.
And so—
They break.
Almost all of them go wrong.
Sally: trusts him.
Sally: doubts him.
Sally: turns away from someone she never knew.
Each one glitches—Tails’ grin flickers over her face.
Tails, left behind.
“I… ditched him.” Fingertips stab the riverbank.
A beat.
A thought.
It doesn’t make sense anymore.
A soft sigh.
Sonic stands up, staring at the castle.
So close.
But no longer sure.
“We were friends, weren’t we?”
The wind doesn’t answer.
Neither does the river.
He’s alone again.
Or…
Not?
A guard waits at the gates.
His voice is clipped, routine.
“You can come in, citizen.”
Sonic turns. Scared, almost.
“…What’s my name?”
The officer pauses, squints.
“Well, son, I’ve never seen you before.”
Sonic steps back. His throat tightens.
“…Right.”
A whisper. “It never mattered.”
“S-s-Sonic the—the Hedgehog.”
The officer tilts his head.
“Doesn’t ring a bell.”
A step away.
“The fastest thing alive?”
“Nnnnope.”
Another step back.
Another whisper, “They don’t matter.”
“You seem distressed,’” the guard says gently.
He offers a hand and gestures inside.
“Please, come in. We can help.”
Sonic flinches.
A memory glitches.
Sharp. Searing.
“You finally blinked in.”
Silver’s voice.
Sonic staggers back. Grabs his head.
“That’s not how this works.”
Another memory. Same Silver.
He groans.
“I’m not a complicated guy. I run. Stuff happens.”
The words are hollow now.
Just another echo. Another mask.
A legend slipping off the rails.
He turns from the gate.
The castle fades behind him with every step.
Distance eats detail.
It all vanishes into confusion.
Nothing makes sense.
“I run. Stuff happens.”
Again.
“I run. Stuff happens.”
His mind splits.
On one half: the past.
A dozen Sonics.
A thousand shadows who’ll never mean anything.
Ahead: a twisted future.
Fractured time.
A lost world.
But here—
Now—
Tails.
Not a memory.
Not a theory.
Not a simulation.
Tails.
A real person.
A real friend.
The friend who makes him Sonic.
No Sonic needed to know about the one that came before him.
They made friends in the present.
He sees it.
Clear as daylight.
And somewhere deep inside—
For the first time since White Space—
He feels.
Not just the pain.
But Sonic.
“…I run. Stuff happens.”
A pause.
A breath.
“Some’s worth running with—”
He plants a foot.
Grass whispers against his soles.
“Not outrunning.”
Spool.
Breathe in.
Coil.
Breathe out.
Launch.
The world falls behind him.
His scope widens.
Past peels away.
Future shatters beneath his heels.
They’re too slow.
The moment—
Is now.
Way past cool—
Is now.
Gotta go fast—
Now.
The shattered sound barrier—
Now.
Friends—
Now.
Sonic.
IS.
THE.
NOW.
Hey, SUPER reader!
Reached the end? No new parts? Don’t worry! Lost World will be back this weekend with more so stay tuned!
Parts (9-10/13)
If you’re here and the following parts have been posted, just keep reading!
This is a Sonic fanfiction written as a gift to my best friend. I honestly don’t care what you do as long as it isn’t copy-and-pasting this on another website. Make fan comics, commentaries, animations, art, games, translations—knock yourself out. No need to ask!
Chapter 11: Friends Again
Summary:
*Click*
*Beep. Beep. Beep*
*Dial tone...*
Badah buduh bedeh bleemo bumuh badah—
Ope—sorry! A person—hah—oh dear! Resident Services is—unfortunately closed!—due to a… Uhm—Zipper?
*Click*
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Crabboom watches.
Its missile tubes twitch.
Tails flinches.
It looks ridiculous—its stubby pincers, googly red eyes.
A wind-up toy. A joke.
So, definitely not Silver.
Dangerous—?
It fires.
The missile screams as it skims the grass.
Tails dashes sideways, tails revving, flying low.
Boom!
That’s one.
Whirr—thud!
Here comes another.
It locks in. Aim adjusted. Lead calculated.
Tails can’t outrun it.
He pivots—
Spins mid-air—
WHAP!
His tails catch the missile like a bat.
It veers off. Sparks fly.
Boom.
He lands hard, heart pounding.
That… only hurt a little.
Crabboom chirps. Reloads.
Tails growls, pushes off—
Shoom-ponk!
Slams into it like a bullet. One of its eyes explodes in a shower of glass and gears.
But Tails staggers, winded.
Wobbling.
Crabboom topples backward, arm raising—
Tails reacts—
Thwip!
A tail-fling.
The Crabboom goes up.
Flips—
And the missile ignites.
In the launcher.
BOOM!
Smoke. Sparks. A faint chirp.
A Flicky, wrapped in a shield bubble, floats down.
Tails catches it.
The little bird chirps. Innocent. Warm.
He cradles it like glass.
A tear rolls down his cheek.
Allergic reaction?
No.
His friend Sonic—no—
Just Sonic.
Heroism.
It all comes back.
If only he did, too.
Then—
Thum.
The earth shakes.
A shadow stretches over him.
He turns.
Ptera.
Massive.
Wings like a jetliner’s.
Eyes glowing. Core pulsing.
Death, airborne.
Tails freezes.
He’s out of fight.
His tails can’t save him now.
Then—
FLASH .
The air splits.
A white-hot spiral tears through the sky—
WHAM!
Sonic drills through the beast’s core.
It’s a jagged, blue-cored wake and blistering sound.
The Ptera reels—spasms—
Metal groans as its twists in agony.
Sonic lands—bounces—
Then launches back, still curled—
A blur of heart and spin—
THUMP!
He slams into its spine—
Feet first. Timed to perfection.
SpoolcoillaunchGO!
GO! GO! GO!
CRUNCH!
A brutal snap as the head buckles under Sonic’s feet—
Forced downward—smashed into its own chestplate.
Steel folds.
Circuits rupture.
Oil bursts from gashes like black blood.
The beast drops.
Dead weight.
Dead silence.
But the Blur’s already gone.
Up.
And up.
A streak of blue into the clouds.
He uncurls mid-air.
Back flat to the earth.
Limbs raised by the wind—
A floating, blue asterisk in the air.
He feels the sky.
He feels the fall.
He feels… alive.
Sunset bleeds across his fur like flame.
The world burns gold and red.
But behind the roar of air—
Whispers. Screams. Echoes.
White Space.
Gel.
Memories.
They reach.
The past tries to catch him.
In bursts of glitch and static:
Amy.
“Come back, Sonic!”
Her hands claw forward—fingers outstretched like a child reaching for a vanishing toy.
An inch away.
So close.
But he doesn’t take her hand.
She bursts—pixels scatter like petals in the wind.
Then:
Shadow.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
He dives—aims for Sonic’s collar.
A black blur of anger and fear.
But Sonic drops faster.
Faster than memory.
Shadow flickers.
Disappears in a streak of red light.
One by one, they keep coming:
Cream.
Eyes full of tears.
“Mister Sonic! Please—!”
Sonic’s finger twitches.
But that’s all.
Just a twitch.
An instinct—almost.
Because it was never followed through.
She dissolves.
Her voice becomes warped audio.
Her shape collapses into garbled red code.
More follow.
Too many to name.
All with open hands.
None in the now.
Sonic exhales.
The wind carries the sound away.
Then—quietly.
Almost like a prayer:
“If you have time to worry… just run.”
“Run to the next moment.”
“I’ll be there.”
He lets go of the air itself.
And lets himself fall.
He sniffs, turning toward the horizon.
A little below him—
Tails.
Awkwardly keeping pace in the freefall, tails flickering, limbs flailing just a bit.
But he’s there.
Right beside him.
Sonic’s chest loosens. Not with relief—something gentler.
A velvet tether to peace.
Real. Present.
“You know—uhm—”
Sonic exhales.
“For how fast I run…”
He flashes a wonky smile.
“I was so slow I got stuck in the past!”
The joke lands like a pebble in a canyon.
Tails blinks.
Sonic’s brows knit, pressing on anyway.
“I thought you were the one tail-tied…”
He points a shaking thumb at his head.
“But—uh—looks like it was me.”
Tails settles a brow—the other remaining raised.
He’s curious. Listening.
Sonic grimaces.
Okay… full send…
“I… Sonic’s nothing without a friend.”
He inhales, air whipping into his lungs from the fall.
It’s unnecessary, but at least he can focus on the motion.
“And I can’t get my old ones back…”
Tails doesn’t look away. His gaze locks on, patient.
Sonic rubs the back of his quills.
“Maybe I’m not supposed to,” he mutters. “Those are—ya know—in the past.”
He squints.
“I’m a present guy.”
Tails nods once. Simple. Certain.
Sonic exhales.
This kid gets it.
“But you—you’re my friend right now . You’re where I should be.”
He smiles—genuinely, this time.
“You’re what makes me Sonic.”
Tails nods.
“And I’m Tails.”
Sonic’s eyes shine.
No catch. No quip.
It’s just the truth.
He brushes wind—or maybe a tear—from his eyes.
“I’ve been feelin’,” he says.
Tails snorts—a warm sound in the rushing air.
“Not thinking?”
Sonic extends a fist—just floating there between them.
“You and me—if feels like we’re cool, huh?”
Tails blinks, then nods.
Eyes soft. Steady. “I think that.”
Sonic’s grin grows, a little crooked. A little real.
“Think-n-feel. Two sides of the same coin.”
A beat. Sonic raises his brows.
Tails bumps the fist.
Sonic glances forward again. His voice dips lower—grounded.
“What do you want to find out first?”
A moment of thought.
Tails looks away.
Sonic’s smile dies.
But he keeps going.
“Why you were in that Badnik—?”
“Nothing.”
Sonic’s mouth opens.
Closes. Tails’ “nothing” is his nothing.
“Buddy, no—I.”
“I’m Tails.”
Sonic smirks. Just a little.
But in the language of a big brother—extreme pride.
“You’re a tough kid.”
Tails nods again, more sure this time.
He glances down. His eyes widen.
“Wait—!”
He grabs Sonic midair, tails whirring to slow—but Sonic slips.
THUD .
Twenty feet down. Sonic lands square on his rear.
“Oof!”
Tails hovers down, wincing. “Sorry—!”
Sonic stands, brushing himself off, laughing.
“You’re aight—”
He shoots a finger gun, eyes sparking.
“Magnets! Yeah? You’re good with robot stuff.”
Tails hesitates…
Then nods.
Then nods harder.
Sonic grins, already walking.
“Great. Two pairs of magnet gloves, here we come.”
Tails jogs up beside him.
“Sounds kinda silly.”
Sonic wags a finger without looking back.
“Nah-uh.”
He smirks.
“If I’m using them? That makes it cool.”
Tails stops dead in his tracks.
His arms drop to his sides, hands spaded forward like he was just told to give up his favorite—oddly heavy—toy.
His brain lights up.
“You’re using them!”
There’s some frustration fused with that electricity.
Sonic turns slowly, one brow cocked.
“Yeah-huh?”
But Tails is already marching forward, muttering formulas.
“Ferromagnetic binding… heat distortion… enormous electrostatic potential…”
His words fire like a minigun.
Sonic’s grin twitches.
Then twitches harder.
And breaks completely.
Tails is perched on a thick tree branch, bent over a scrap of bark, sketching equations and diagrams using one of Sonic’s plucked quills.
Sonic, meanwhile, is draped upside-down against the base of the tree—head on the ground, legs stiff against the trunk, arms flopped out.
Tails is still talking.
“—and you say your average top speed is a blur, but how many meters per second is a blur? And what’s your kinetic friction coefficient—wait, do you even have one? If we factor in your aerodynamic profile—”
Sonic groans—very loudly.
“Do ya ever stop for air?”
He peeks one eye open.
That was a little harsh—
Then both.
Hope that didn’t hurt Tails’—
He sniffs.
Something smells… toasty?
His glare sharpens.
Tails is too deep in his math to notice the faint heat blooming from his arm.
Oil from the Emperor Jellyfish still cakes his arms.
The quill in his hand—Sonic’s quill—starts to glow, reacting to the traces.
Itty-bitty embers bounce from hair to hair.
Sonic launches upright—
FWEE—ZOOM.
Snatches the quill from Tails’ hand.
Stops before the second passes, quills bouncing.
A micro-flame sizzles into nothing. Just in time.
Sonic watches the smoke curl up, muttering, “Yeesh.”
Tails blinks, nearly toppling off the branch as he tries to catch his balance.
“Wh-hey! I was trying to draft—”
Sonic points to the now-blackened tip of the quill.
“Lemme draft—I’m not a lighter.”
Tails gulps.
He looks at his arm, dried oil still trying to form a reflection.
“Oh.”
Sonic flicks the charred quill over his shoulder.
“Alright. So we need a really, really strong magnet—got it.”
Tails nods sheepishly, then more determined.
“One strong enough to keep me anchored to you at full speed…”
Sonic grins.
“See? That’s all it took.”
Tails’ smile fades.
He looks away, rubbing the petrol flakes from his arm.
Sonic notices—
Sighs—almost wanting, “But not nearly as cool.”
Tails turns back to him, raising a brow.
Sonic’s arms fold.
“Anyone smart we meet—”
He unfolds one to shoot a finger gun.
“I’ll give ‘em to ya—”
Tails smiles.
The wind shifts through the grass.
Sonic doesn’t look at him. Just smirks.
“Lead the way. I’ll try to catch up.”
Namesakes spin—
Fists clench.
Tails hovers.
“Copy that.”
Hey, SUPER reader!
Reached the end? No new parts? Don’t worry! Lost World will be back this weekend with more so stay tuned!
Parts (11-12/13)
If you’re here and the following parts have been posted, just keep reading!
This is a Sonic fanfiction written as a gift to my best friend. I honestly don’t care what you do as long as it isn’t copy-and-pasting this on another website. Make fan comics, commentaries, animations, art, games, translations—knock yourself out. No need to ask!
Notes:
Ptera: Tier III Badnik. Near-identical to its “Ptera” counterpart from the Sonic Superstars canon event.
The mission: kill a fox with a dinosaur. But why?Status: Operated by the Eggman Empire. Under direct orders.
Chapter 12: Punching a Mirage
Summary:
Hung up on? Call again! They’re just playing hard to get.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Next morning…
The wind races down a long twin-lane maglev rail. Humming. Sleek. Stretching across canyons, threading past mountain tops, shadowed by floating planetoids and mini-courses.
Sonic and Tails stand on a metal outcropping bolted to a support column, perched like birds on a ledge, wind scruffing their fur.
Tails twitches. His fingers wiggle like they were about to cast a spell.
Take the magnet—sesame…?
Tails is no magician. But he is a pacer.
“We just need a few magnetic cores,” he mumbles, barely aware he’s speaking out loud. “Four high-polarity superconducting load points. Easy. But how do I cancel the magnetic field—”
He whips around to the track.
Each change in the hum’s pitch, a step closer.
It pulsates.
He reaches out a hand.
Again.
Closer now.
Again.
“Plug-and-play…” he mutters with a savory finish, fanged smile eating each and every corner of his cheeks.
“Ah-ah.” Sonic points a gloved finger to the sky, wagging it side-to-side in time with the loud taps of his shoe—classic title screen pose.
“Sonic and Tails are good guys , remember? We don’t go stealing pieces off techy train-tracks that someone’s gonna roll over.”
Tails freezes, blinking up.
“But—”
“Ya got somethin’ on your teeth.” Sonic narrows his eyes with a smirk. “Says ‘I’m gonna let my brain cover my eyes’.”
He winces. Gross.
Tails sighs through his nose, eyes widening with giddy calculations anyway.
Sonic rolls his shoulders and turns.
Peers down the magnetic track lines. “But I’m sure the—uh—garage—?”
An automatic correction from Tails.
“Depot.”
“Right. The gar—dep— that place . We can take a few there without derailing someone’s mid-party Loco-Motion .
Tails hesitates. Nods.
Then—
Whirrrr.
The track vibrates.
A train screams past like a silver comet—no smoke, no scream—just shimmering kinetic silence. Tails nearly falls flat from the wind racing to catch it.
Sonic doesn’t blink.
“The Mirage Ex—”
“Come on!” Tails chirps, already revving his tails. “Let’s try riding it!”
But Sonic doesn’t move.
He stares at the train’s glinting body, eyes narrowing. The light in his face dims.
“That was fun… with…
everyone
…”
Tails’ joy hits a snag.
“…Do you remember that?”
Sonic doesn’t answer.
He drops to a crouch like a sprinter on the block. His fingers press the steel.
A whisper: “
His
fun.”
Then louder: “Not
mine
.”
And he launches.
Tails yelps and kicks his tails into gear, chasing after the train.
The gap was closing—not fast enough.
Wind burns. Muscles scream. He just barely manages to flop onto the roof of the speeding Mirage Express.
Gives the steel a bear hug. Hopes it returns the favor—the wind is peeling him off the train.
Then—
Clack. Clack.
The magnets resist each other.
The wind dies.
Hissss…
The train rolls ahead at a fraction of its top speed.
Tails barely has time to brace before a metallic claw tears through the hatch beside him.
Stabbies—scorpion Badniks.
Dozens of them.
Clicking like time bombs disguised as children’s toys.
Harsh oranges. Plastic—?
No, steel.
Some climb the walls. Others through their own “doors”—violently-made holes in sleek metal. Their claws drip… not oil. What had they done to the crew? Tails doesn’t want to know.
Far ahead—
Sonic skids to a halt, eyes wide.
“Frick.”
He turns.
“Too fast.”
Shoots back.
Sonic races head on with the Mirage Express. The world can only watch from over his shoulder as the train charges toward him.
He leaps—twisting mid-air.
He skims the roof, orange-blur Badniks roaring by under his feet.
Anything in front of him—another broken bot, another Flicky bubble.
Sonic snatches Tails.
They tumble—
Barrel roll off the train.
When they stop, Sonic immediately releases.
“Can I catch my train real quick?”
Tails nods—still processing it all.
Sonic launches. The Mirage shrinks behind him—he’s on it again.
CRASH.
He breaks through the roof of a rearward car.
Stabbies. Everywhere.
Ceilings. Seats. Windows.
Spool. Coil. Launch—
Sonic explodes forward.
BOOM. BOOM. BOOM.
Each car’s a blur. Each Badniks a streak of motion chopped through like warm butter.
He bursts into the cockpit.
A Leggie—spider-Badnik—looms over the console.
Sonic taps its shoulder.
It turns—
ZAP.
A lightning punch.
The thing’s head craters.
Sonic turns to the controls—they’re dead confusing.
Red warnings. Broken text. Actually—what works and what doesn’t?
Behind him—
SMASH.
A Stabbie flies out of the side of the train.
Gone with the wind in an instant.
In walks Tails.
Covered in scuffs. Flicking oil from his namesakes.
“Sonic?” he huffs.
Sonic looks over, blinking. “Tail?”
He groans, “…Tails.”
“No, I mean ‘did you use—?’”
Stops. Gives a chuckle, “Heh.”
What wasn’t funny was the fried controls.
They look up—city skyline approaching.
Tails panics.
“We’ve gotta stop it!”
His fingers fly over the keyboard, eyes flicking between the millions of colors like they all meant something.
“Error. Error. Error.”
Snaps around to Sonic—
“Smash it.”
But Sonic’s already talking—
“Got a plan?”
Awkward silence.
They nod.
Sonic breaks through the cockpit window, racing down the track.
Tails spins through the cars, tails flinging Stabbies like ragdolls.
Sonic’s eyes follow the curve ahead ahead—locks on.
Tails weaves through claws—leaps, spins mid-air. Anything and everything to not end up skewered or split.
Sonic crashes into the core of the bend, gunnels with it.
Tails bursts out of the rear window, gliding skyward.
The train flies off the rail.
The engine hits first—metal folding like paper.
The cars jackknife forward, tumbling over each other in a blood-ballet of destruction.
Smoke. Fire. Sparks.
A grin cracks through the blinding explosion.
“Now that’s my kinda fun.”
Tails lands, barely upright.
Sonic jogs over, flicking dust off his shoulder.
“We can pro’ly take a magnet or two.”
Tails winces. “ Four ?”
Sonic nods.
“They won’t be using this for a while.”
The wreck still hisses in the distance.
Twisted steel, buckled rail, clouds of embers crawling up into the blue.
The two watch from afar, Tails wincing, Sonic smiling.
“Are we still good guys?” Tails squeaks.
Sonic gives a snappy thumbs-up.
“Yep.”
He turns, kicking pebbles as he walks off.
“What’s a little collateral?”
Tails raises a brow.
Sonic will take a bit of getting used to, sure.
But, they’re about to be spending more than a bit together.
Hey, SUPER reader!
Reached the end? No new parts? Don’t worry! Lost World will be back this weekend with more so stay tuned!
Parts (11-12/13)
If you’re here and the following parts have been posted, just keep reading!
This is a Sonic fanfiction written as a gift to my best friend. I honestly don’t care what you do as long as it isn’t copy-and-pasting this on another website. Make fan comics, commentaries, animations, art, games, translations—knock yourself out. No need to ask!
Notes:
Mirage Express: Maglev train. Near-identical to its “Mirage Express” counterpart from the Muder of Sonic the Hedgehog canon event.
There was a party here—a special one! Sonic’s birthday! Cake, friends, and a game of murder mystery that seemed too real.><
Stabby: Tier I Badnik. No counterparts.
They hunt in packs…Status: So many...
Chapter 13: Midnight, Machinery, Momentum
Summary:
*Click.*
*Beep. Beep. Beep.*
*Dial tone.*
I am so sorry! Resident Services is projected to be…
*Gulp.*
…Ceasing operations permanently… Oh no…
Chapter Text
Silver sits alone.
A hillside, high above the ruins of a town that grew beyond the borders he drew.
The stars blink like silent judges. Cold. Watching.
The wind doesn’t howl here.
It hums. A low, pulsing note—Silver’s mental wires under tension.
In his palm: a shard.
Cracked. Flickering. Humming in time with the wind.
It used to be Blaze’s.
He turns it over, carefully. It might cut memory.
The memory:
The night they walked under a silver moon.
Blaze beside him—saying little, but there.
The world was going to end, yes…
But together, it felt farther away.
His hand closes around the shard.
“I wonder what you saw in me,” he says quietly.
“That you didn’t in him.”
A pause. A hum rises. The wind catches his cloak.
“Tenebris. The devil’s sword.”
He scoffs. Dry. Tired.
“I hope it’s enough for the new you…”
Runs a finger over his burn scar.
“Once the world is done breaking…”
Suddenly, the rift-light beside him shrieks.
Silver jerks his head—eyes narrow.
Far off, the sky splits. A wound in time.
Red bleeds through.
A shape forms—impossible, theatrical, obscene.
Eggmanland.
Steel forged for Hell’s carnival.
Twist spires. Serrated towers. Lights that laugh and scream.
It spreads like an infection. Code and cruelty merge.
Silver’s jaw clenches.
“…Another one.”
His voice is low. Final.
“The last one.”
Days later…
A grassy cliffside.
Wind in their fur.
Sun shining on matched gloves—matte black, pulsing with blue light.
Tails adjusts his pair, pride tugging at the corner of his mouth.
“Took a few tries, but they work.”
Sonic crosses his arms, grinning.
“Tch. Haven’t done the real test yet.”
Below them, something screeching storms through the forest.
A Badnik. Behemoth insectoid.
Steam hissing like breath through razor vents.
Blade-limbs twitch. Trees bend to their overlord.
A castle crasher headed straight for the Kingdom of Acorn.
Tails glances sideways.
Sonic does the same.
No words.
Tails revs his namesake propellers, lifting off—
He grabs Sonic by the arms, taking them into the sky.
“Ready?”
Sonic’s grin sharpens. “Way past.”
Tails twirls around—
Around—
‘Round—
Fast—
Faster—
And—LAUNCH!
Sonic blurs into a streak of blue light, rising fast, coiling midair—
Locked on.
The Badnik tilts its head, tracking him—
And the next adventure.
Hey, SUPER reader!
And that’s the finish line! Thanks a bunch for sticking with me! Hope you enjoyed! Give this enough love and I’ll write up the next parts.
This is a Sonic fanfiction written as a gift to my best friend. I honestly don’t care what you do as long as it isn’t copy-and-pasting this on another website. Make fan comics, commentaries, animations, art, games, translations—knock yourself out. No need to ask!
HoshizoraHaruka on Chapter 2 Fri 01 Aug 2025 06:53PM UTC
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MrMereScratch on Chapter 2 Fri 01 Aug 2025 07:15PM UTC
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