Hop To It - Eclipse 3

[Heyu]

I was lying on my bed, staring at the ceiling.

Iota had left. Apparently he really really wanted to visit Pumpkin Hill before we went home, and while I was a little concerned about letting him go on his own, Dad assured me it would be fine. He had friends in the police force, and Dad gave them a description of Iota and told them that he was safe. I didn’t… not trust that, but frankly, it also wasn’t fair to just deny him agency on the grounds of being a robot. Iota was a person, and people deserved the right to go their own way.

I’d have gone with him, but Dad needed the truck today, and riding on the open road on Iota didn’t sound… comfortable. He didn’t have seats or anything, and Pumpkin Hill was at least an hour out from the city before you factored in traffic, and--whatever, it’s not important. Iota left to go sightseeing.

Humi was--my ears fidgeted--in the garage, throwing something together. From the sound of it she was making something big. Hm… that sounded like her dropping something rubbery. I wondered if she found a spare tire somewhere. It probably would have been a good idea to go and supervise.

Instead, I was lying here, hovering a ring between my hands and watching it revolve.

My door knocked and Mom stepped in. She blinked at the rings. “Sorry, are you busy?”

“Nah.” I sat up with a grunt and moved over to give her room to sit down.

“What’s got you feeling down, Hayden?” she asked, taking the offered seat. “Are you missing Iota?”

“...No, I think he’ll be fine.” I shook my head. “He’ll probably get distracted by a squirrel crossing the road and get sidetracked, but he’ll find his way back eventually. I’m like eighty percent sure he’s got a GPS or something.”

She hummed. “Is it Humi? I think she’s building some kind of vehicle downstairs.” Mom and I both paused when we heard Humi drop something metallic. “That sounds like… a screwdriver?”

“Wrench,” I corrected. “Trust me, you get used to the sound around her.”

Mom smiled. “She’s a clever child.”

“Yeah, she is.” I grinned back, and I couldn’t help but let a little pride into my voice.

Mom picked up on it immediately. “I don’t remember if I said it before, but I’m very proud of you for taking her in like you did. From what you told me, she was a real handful at first.”

She’s a handful now, but I didn’t say that. Her statement did remind me of something… yeah, she should probably know about this. “It’s funny you should mention that,” I said, leaning down to grab my duffel bag. I fished the document box out and handed it to her.

She took it, perplexed, and pulled the certificate out. “...This document… certifies… adopti--adoption?”

I winced, seeing what was coming, and covered my ear holes before she let out a piercing screech. It was an excited sound, and was followed up by a crushing hug.

“Hayden! This is so sweet! I can’t believe it, you’re a--oh no,” she gasped. A look of probably-faked horror crawled over her face. “Hayden, no, I’m too young to be a grandmother, I’m only forty-three!”

“I thought you were--”

“Hush. Oh goodness, this is wonderful!” She smiled, then blinked and turned serious. “Son, are you sure you’re ready to be a father? Adopting a child isn’t easy.”

“I never said it would be.” I rubbed my neck. “And… I don’t know. I’m not sure if calling me her father is the right word, either. It feels weird. I’m way too young to be the dad of a ten-year-old, but I can’t just--I’m not leaving her alone. And it’s not like she knows, yet, but--”

“What.”

She turned a glare on me, and I practically withered. “Listen, it’s complicated.”

“You’re telling me that that amazing, beautiful girl down there, the former homeless orphan, doesn’t know she’s been adopted yet?” She thumped her foot angrily. “...How long have you had that document?”

“...three weeks.”

“Three wee--?!”

“Sshh!” I shushed her, and we both looked at the spot on the floor between us and the garage. Humi continued working; it sounded like she’d found the electric drill. I frowned and stood up because I really didn’t think she should be using power tools unsupervised.

Mom grabbed my arm and pulled me back. “Oh no, young man, you get back here and explain to me why you haven’t told her yet!”

I ran a hand over my scalp. “I--” I sighed. “Look. Okay? Humi hasn’t told me everything, and I haven’t asked, but she’s been through it, okay? I’ve gotten the impression that people have lied about caring about her before, and she’s been hurt. I don’t want to…” I grunted. Talking about this was hard. “I don’t want to scare her off by moving too fast, alright?”

Mom blinked, anger fading and worry taking its place. “You think she’d run away?”

“I think I’d never be able to find her if she did,” I agreed. “I do plan on telling her, and soon! But I want it to be special, to make sure she knows it’s real.” I rubbed one ear between my fingers. “I was originally planning on telling her once we got home and were exploring all the new improvements, but that’s taking longer than I thought… and the longer it takes to tell her, the more wrong it feels.”

Mom, bless her, sat there with her eyes closed, deep in thought. “I see.” She opened her eyes and smiled. “Well, I don’t think you need to worry. She adores you, you know.” She saw my dubious expression and chuckled. “She does! When she was helping me in the kitchen she mentioned you almost as often as that Tails boy. You’ve clearly been there for her, and that matters.”

“Hm.” I sat back down and nodded slowly. “...I still think it needs to be special.”

“If you want.” Mom hummed to herself. “But you shouldn’t put it off any longer if you can help it. Maybe pair it with a gift. Something symbolic, maybe. You know, when your father proposed he took us to karaoke and sang me the song that played at our prom. I swear I cried so hard my mascara ran, and later at the park when we were stargazing…”

Mom kept talking and I gradually tuned her out; I’d heard this story before.

Something symbolic, hm? I stared at my hands. After a moment, I turned them over to look at my rings. “...Box.”

“And then he took the ring out on the bridge--what?”

I sat straighter. “Humi had this jewelry box that she really loved. It was destroyed during the Chaos incident. She didn’t have time to get too upset about it back then, but I could tell it affected her. I could go out and buy her a new one.”

Mom clapped happily. “There you go!”

I stood up. “I’ll do it right now. And then after dinner, I’ll show it to her, and the certificate.” I frowned. “Ah, but I need her occupied while I go shopping, or it’ll ruin the surprise.”

I slowly turned and gave Mom a pleading look. She snorted. “Say no more, of course I will. I’ll be delighted to take my new granddaughter out on the town!” She giggled. “Ooh, I changed my mind, I like the way that sounds.”

“Thanks, Mom. You’re the best.”

-------------------------

We stepped into the garage. “Hey, packrat, Mom wants to--whoa.”

I balked at the contraption, or possibly the doohickey, that took up most of the space. Mom walked in after me and let out a startled yelp.

“Hey. Uh. What’s this?” I asked.

Humi lifted the welding mask up and beamed at us. “I thought having only one car was really inconvenient, so I made a new one!”

We gave the device a second look. Calling it a car was generous. It looked like what Dr. Frankenstein might have made if you asked him for a four-wheeler. It was oversized, made of a patchwork of metal and plastic, and no two parts looked like they came from the same type of vehicle… but if you squinted and blurred your vision a little, it was still shaped like a four-wheeler.

Humi leaned against one wheel and twirled a makeshift key on her finger. “Wanna take it for a spin?”

Mom clapped excitedly. “Fun! Let’s go!”

Humi faltered. “Oh. Uh. Sorry, Mrs. Fiver, it only seats two…”

Mom’s face went through a series of expressions at ‘Mrs. Fiver,’ but she hid it quickly. “That’s not a problem. It’s you and me today, Humi!”

The mouse blinked. “What?”

“I’ve got some errands,” I said, and then I stopped. “Actually, I’m going souvenir hunting, and I wanted to get you something, but I want it to be a surprise, so Mom is distracting you.” Mom swatted my arm playfully.

Humi tilted her head. “Oh, okay.”

“Wow, I’m hurt.” Mom pouted. “Hayden, I can’t believe she doesn’t want to hang out with me!”

I shook my head in faux-despair.

“No, I guess it’s fine!” Humi climbed up onto the seat. “Where are we going?”

Mom sat behind her, gently pried Humi’s fingers off the handlebars, and tutted. “No no. I draw the line at letting a child drive through traffic.”

“Aww…”

“Are you sure this thing is street legal?” I asked doubtfully.

“Probably not! But we aren’t going far,” Mom said. “There’s a few places nearby, but I thought we’d start with the skate shop.”

Humi’s eyes sparkled and she gasped. “Extreme Gear!”

“Could be. We’ll have to see, won’t we?”

I cleared my throat. “Helmets.”

“Booo!” Both of them yelled at me for that, but I just gave my mom a flat look and she giggled.

I dug up a pair of bike helmets from a shelf. One belonged to Mom, the other used to be mine when I was… well, not Humi’s size, but close enough. I had to blow a cobweb out of the latter, but Humi didn’t need to know that.

----------------------------

Despite looking like something a madman would ride through the desert while blasting hard rock, Humi’s vehicle functioned pretty well, and in short order they were off down the road.

And I was alone.

I made sure the house was locked, secured my pouches, and checked my ring stash. I’d been slowly building up a larger supply, and right now my pockets were stuffed.

I looked to the left, then to the right. Traffic on our street was slow this time of day. I looked out over the houses to where the buildings got bigger and bounced on my heels.

Maybe I’d get in trouble for this, but I didn’t think there was any rule against parkour.

I crouched down and felt my muscles tense, and then I jumped.

I cleared three houses in one go, and I started laughing.

---------------------------------------------------

[Tails]

He leaned back and sighed. His fingers were cramping up.

Tails was finally certain that he’d cracked how to fix Gamma… kinda. It wasn’t a hardware issue, which only left software, and frankly? Coding wasn’t his favorite thing in the world. He still liked it, but after two weeks nonstop? He needed to switch to something else.

Thankfully, he’d finally get the chance. Tails still wasn’t able to get Gamma’s adaptive processing out of read-only, but he’d come across an alternate solution: re-transcribing the entirety of Gamma’s source code and last aware state into a new format that would then be able to run. 

The result would technically be a copy of the original Gamma, but with the ‘true’ Gamma under permanent lockdown, what would be the difference?

…Well, Tails supposed it was a lot of a difference, but it would be up to Gamma what to do with that information once he was up and running again. That was just how computers worked, anyway; moving a file didn’t actually move it, it copied it into the new space and then deleted the original. Gamma was no exception, his own file library did the same thing, and those were basically his thoughts. If there was no problem with those, why would there be one with this? He was certain it would work.

But typing it out by hand would be the work of months, so he’d spent the last week writing a program that would do it for him, in a matter of weeks instead, and that program was finally done. It would need some testing to make sure it worked, though, so he’d need to first write up a second program, maybe a game or a short animation, zip it up, and then run it through the decryption program a few times to make sure there were no bugs…

…Ugh. Tails was so tired of sitting at this computer. His fingers needed a break.

He hoped Gamma would understand, but Tails needed to do something else. He’d been meaning to work on some upgrades to the Tornado for ages!

In fact, that was just what he was going to do. Fixing up a plane always helped him clear his mind and relax. Yeah, he could see it now… improved speed, better maneuverability, a weapons system, hardier plating, a transformation function for land combat… Humi would love something like that.

Tails got to work, muttering to himself as more and more ideas flooded in. Beside his computer, Gamma stood, waiting patiently.

------------------------------

[Heyu]

As mentioned, the Mobian population of Central City was dwarfed by the humans. In both senses of the word, really. We were generally much shorter.

Anyway, when I was growing up, we were a tight-knit community. It was almost like growing up in a small town and the big city at the same time, because every Mobian knew every other Mobian; half of them came over from the islands and the deep wilds together, and so the community was already there. All their kids ended up congregating in the same school system--my high school was probably the only one in the Federation that could claim to have the same number of Mobians as humans--and they all ended up in the same neighborhoods, set up their businesses next to each other, all sorts of things.

I think the humans called us Little Islands, which confused a lot of tourists since we, uh, weren’t on an island. It was funny when I was a kid, anyway.

What was I saying? Right, so, that group mindset hadn’t gone away after I moved out. There was one person in particular, an old friend of my Mom’s, who was practically family. And given her mode of business, she most likely had what I was looking for.

As an aside, jumping from rooftop to rooftop was fun. I tried to avoid landing on the roofs of houses, but once I reached the townhouses where the suburbs started to end and the city proper began, I let loose and had some fun.

I can’t believe I never did this when I was a kid. I really missed out.

Honestly, if Station Square hadn’t been in such a state I probably would have spent a lot of time doing this the past few weeks. The trees in the jungle were just a little too narrow and bug-infested to be as enjoyable, but this… it was almost like flying. Each jump ate more distance, and from above I could see the cavalcade of colors that made up every crowd of Mobians. There were more than I remembered, but maybe that was to be expected. And there were humans, of course, easy to see standing over the crowd; they generally looked excited to be there. I guess they enjoyed the novelty of doorways they had to duck to get through. Trust me though, it’s not that great.

A little further, and I reached the edge of ‘Little Islands.’ Color faded a bit and the crowds changed composition, and…

Huh. Hm.

I slowed down, landing on one roof and jogging to a halt as I looked around. This place was near the famous hilled roads, and for some reason there were G.U.N. soldiers around. They were hard to miss with their black uniforms. The streets around here were understandably deserted, given the soldiers’ presence. My ears twitched, and I looked overhead to see some of their Beetle drones flying around, some of them carrying folded up Hunter units, ready for deployment.

That was worrying. Briefly, I considered hopping down to ask one of the patrolling soldiers what was going on… but that felt like a good way to get shot, and I didn’t really want to test my rings’ ability to guard against damage that badly. Dropping down on a tense soldier seemingly from nowhere was just a bad idea. 

Keeping that in mind, and since I was close enough to my destination, I found a fire escape and climbed down it to the ground before emerging onto the street.

Mom’s friend owned a store this far out because she was a clothier and a seamstress, and humans had far more use for clothes than we did. It just made good business sense. I gave the building a look and whistled; Humble Parlour, as the shop was called, must have been doing well. Even from outside I could tell some work had been done. The shop on the ground floor was scaled for humans, but the two floors above were retrofitted into three Mobian-sized floors, judging by the window placement.

Good for them. I stepped inside and the bell jingled overhead.

“Just a minute~!” came the response.

Despite how quiet it was outside, the inside was busy. Racks of clothes, sorted by color, were being picked through a handful of casual shoppers, but in the back of the room a woman was standing still on a podium while the owner took her measurements.

The owner, a pink pig Mobian with black hair, climbed up a stepladder to reach the customer’s shoulders. “Yes, hold that pose, darling. Goodness, do you do yoga or something similar? You’re going to look beautiful.”

“You really think so?”

“But of course!” the pig said cheerfully. “You’re going to be in one of my dresses, after all!”

I chuckled and walked over, hands in my pockets. “Good to see you haven’t changed.”

She didn’t look up. “Just a minute, I said, I’m a tad busy at the moment.”

“That’s fine, Auntie, I’m in no particular hurry.”

Aunt Charlotte froze. She looked over her shoulder at me. “Hayden?” She spun around and threw her arms wide. “Hey, you! Look at you!” She patted the woman on the shoulder. “Take a rest dear, this will only take a moment.” The model dropped her arms with a sigh while Charlotte stepped off the ladder and stepped up to me. “Look at you, you’re looking well! Have you been exercising?”

“Actually--”

“And this vest, it’s--it’s terrible, actually, what is this color?” She lifted one side of my vest up and snorted in disgust. “I can do better than this in my sleep.”

“It looks better in sunlight,” I said weakly. It had been a while since the last time I visited, and I was starting to remember how Aunt Charlotte got.

“You should have come to me if you needed clothes, you know you get the friends and family discount!” She bent low to poke at my shoes. “Ugh, Grind Shoes? Just like your father, function over form with you, isn’t it?”

I took a sharp step back. “What’s wrong with them? I thought the yellow went well with my fur…”

“Not that shade,” she denied, crossing her arms in an X. “Something darker, maybe a dandelion yellow.” She held up a series of color swatches and shoved them into my hands. If they weren’t labelled differently I wouldn’t have been able to tell they were different shades. “Luckily grind shoes take paint decently enough, but that vest has to go--”

“I like this vest,” I protested.

“It’s not even the same shade as the shoes’ stripe!”

“I thought they were close enough--” I said, making a mistake.

Charlotte’s eyes widened. “Close enough?!”

I took one look at her expression and raised my hands in a T-shape. I needed to get control of this situation. “Hold on, time out. Auntie, I’m glad to see you and I might take you up on that, but I’m not here for clothes today.”

Charlotte folded her arms with a snort. “Oh? Then why are you here?”

I let my shoulders slump in relief, and then gave her a cliff notes version of what I told Mom. “...and so what I need right now is an old jewelry box, and I figured that if anyone had something suitably nice-looking, it would be you.”

“Hmmm.” Charlotte rubbed her chin. She turned and went behind the main counter, pressing a button. Somewhere on the floor above, something went ding. “Awfully presumptuous of you to think I have one I’m not using, but as it happens I have something that belonged to my great aunt that got left to me. I think it’ll suit your needs.”

“Oh, uh.” I rubbed my neck. “You don’t need to give up an heirloom, or anything, or--Maybe I should pay--”

“Heirloom?” Charlotte tossed her head back and laughed. “Great Aunt Peggy was a terror and I’ll be glad to be rid of the thing. I’d have gotten rid of it years ago if it wasn’t just too nice to throw away.”

The door behind the counter opened, and a spider stepped through. “Yes, dear? Oh, is that Heyu?” All four of his eyes widened when he saw me.

“Hey, Mr. Wilbur,” I said, waving. Then I smiled. “Or Uncle Wilbur, I guess. Congrats by the way, I heard you guys got married.”

Both of them beamed. Charlotte pulled him into a brief kiss. “Wilbur, darling, can you fetch Aunt Peggy’s box for Heyu, here?”

He blinked. “That old thing? Sure, just… where were we keeping that again…”

“I was using it to store loose buttons.”

He snapped his fingers. “Right, that one. I’ll be right back.”

“You can leave the buttons in there, if you don’t plan on using them,” I said. “Humi would appreciate that, I think.”

Yessiree, today was going great.

--------------------------------------------------

[Sonic]

Today sucked on ice!

Who did these guys think they were, tricking him onto a helicopter? Well, too bad for them they forgot to bring Mobian-sized handcuffs, because he slipped right out!

“Talk about low budget flights! No food or movies? I’m outta here!”

---------------------------------------------------

[Heyu]

“Thanks, seriously. I mean it.” I stepped outside with the box in hand. Oh, it was perfect. It wasn’t just old, it was vintage, and still in good shape too. What scratches it had gave it character. It looked like nothing so much as a pirate chest in miniature, complete with golden metal clasps and a pair of handles on either side held in place by a lion’s mouth. Decent size, too, about the size of my head, which meant it was big enough that Humi would struggle to hold it. “I can’t believe you were using this for buttons.”

“Aunt Peggy was the worst,” Charlotte said seriously. Then she cheered and waved me off. “Come back soon dear! I want to meet this Humi girl before you leave again! Maybe I can make a dress that looks good AND has enough pockets for her, hm?”

I chuckled and waved goodbye. I made my way to a bus stop, shrugging off my backpack to stick the box inside. Whatever Humi had done to the bag meant it fit inside easily, and didn’t even deform the fabric from inside. It made me feel better once it was inside; I didn’t have to worry about dropping and breaking it now.

I sighed happily. Humi was going to love it.

Getting ready to jump back to my parent’s place, I stretched a bit and bounced on my toes, when my foot brushed against something.

I jumped back, startled at the unexpected contact. “Wh--an Omochao?”

An Omochao. One of those little robot Chao toys that you saw ads for everywhere. Humi had an old clockwork model at home--well, I guess at that moment it was in one of her suitcases, but anyway--but this was a more recent version. It didn’t even have chips in its paints yet.

At my touch, it whirred and booted up. “Uh oh! You shouldn’t be here!”

I blinked and looked around. In one direction the street went up the hill, in the other direction it went down and down. I was the only person in sight. “Are you talking to me?”

“G.U.N. soldiers have surrounded the area. Civilians are to remain indoors.”

“What?” G.U.N.? Yeah, I saw them earlier, but--

A blue blur turned the corner and zoomed down the hill. The wind it kicked up was almost enough to knock me off my feet.

“What the?!” Wait. “Was that Sonic?!”

“Run away!”

I looked over. Running faster than I’d seen from him, going the same way probably-Sonic just did, was--“Big?!”

“Run away, run away!” He sped by me without stopping.

And then a gigantic, two-lane-wide, absolute monster of a truck came around the bend and started roaring towards me like a gaia-damned avalanche.

“...Oh.”

The Omochao’s propeller started up and it flew away. “Good luck!”

It was the size of the buildings surrounding it. It was no monster truck, it was a truck scaled up into a monster. It was like something out of a cartoon; when the coyote was looking dubiously at a tunnel that he was pretty sure was painted on, this truck was the punchline when it ran him over. Only it didn’t look so funny right now.

Now, the correct decision here would have been to run back to Humble Parlour, only like thirty feet away. Getting inside would have been the correct option. Problem is, it was between me and the truck. Much closer! I almost certainly would have made it. But when something that big is speeding at you, the idea of moving towards it is one that simply does not occur.

But I wasn’t completely panicked! I was smart enough to recognize that running away was a losing battle too. I wasn’t as fast as Sonic. My path to salvation was up.

So I jumped. Unfortunately, I waited just a second too long, and instead of clearing the truck, I smacked into the windshield.

“Gah!” I hit the thing face-first and bounced off, falling onto the hood. I scrabbled for purchase on the metal, finding it momentarily on a vent of some kind only to withdraw again as HEAT blasted out of them. The wind blowing by pushed me into the windshield again, and I got a good look at the driver.

He stared at me, nonplussed. I stared at the G.U.N. logo on his helmet.

“What the hell?”

My words were snatched by the wind, but I’m sure my face said them with no words required. I was too shocked to be scared right then, too baffled by the sheer size of this vehicle. For what possible purpose would anyone need a truck this big?

Big?

Big!

I pivoted, crawling on all fours to the front of the hood so I could look onto the street.

There was Sonic, up ahead. There was Big, much closer. Too close. The truck was gaining on him.

“Big!”

He looked over his shoulder at me, which he shouldn’t have done. He tripped.

The sound I made was indescribable.

The truck, unable to even see him over its stupid massive nose, plowed directly into him, and actually got stopped in its tracks by Big’s bulk. The wheel ran over his tail, bumped into his rear and bounced back a foot. Big yowled like a real cat, jumping up the instant his tail was uncovered. The driver, the asshole, floored it in response to the unexpected stop, and the truck turned out to have impossible acceleration when it slammed into Big midair at full speed.

Big hit the grill and went flying. No, really, he flew, off into the sky almost faster than I could track, until he vanished behind a cloud, the sun twinkling off his belt buckle.

I watched him go, incredulous, while the tuck continued unimpeded, seemingly determined to catch up with… Sonic. They were after Sonic. And I remembered that newsreel at the aquarium.

Unbelievable.

And then the shock faded, burned away by fury. 

I turned over onto my back, holding onto the hood ornament to stare the G.U.N. driver in the eye. He stared back at me, and for just a moment he looked uncertain. I let go.

And kicked that window hard enough to cave it in.

---------------------------------------

The next few minutes were very confusing. I think I might have blacked out for a second there. The next thing I remember, the truck was stopped and crashed into a low bridge, and I was shaking the driver by his collar screaming at him. Not saying anything, just screaming. I don’t know how long I’d been doing that, but my throat felt rough.

I didn’t fully come back to myself until someone else grabbed me by the shoulders and pulled me off the guy. They spun me around and pressed me against the wall. “Assaulting an officer!”

“Assaulting an officer?” I repeated, still furious. “He ran me over! He ran my friend over! I think I’m entitled to a little righteous indignation!”

“What’s going on here?!”

I blinked, because I recognized that voice. I pushed away the haze of anger and twisted as best I could to see what was happening, facing the wall like I was.

Wow. That was a lot of soldiers. Most of them were faceless uniforms, but I knew the person in charge. “Captain Palisade!”

She stared at me, glaring. “Mr. Fiver. Care to explain what’s happening?”

I fumed quietly.

She scowled and made a gesture. The soldier pinning me let me up, though he continued to hold my wrists behind me.

It suddenly dawned on me what kind of position I was in, and I swallowed harshly, trying to force my feelings into a box. “Captain. Why in the world was one of your men driving that… thing down a public street at two hundred miles an hour, and why didn’t he stop when he hit two pedestrians?!”

Oops, I shouted a little bit at the end there. I blamed the nerves.

Palisade looked briefly surprised before shooting a mild glare at the driver, who was leaning against the truck and breathing heavily. He looked away. “I can’t answer the last part, but in answer to the first, we are in pursuit of a dangerous criminal.”

“Ha.” I rolled my eyes. “You were chasing Sonic. I saw him. Why is G.U.N. after the kid that’s saved the world ten times over before his sixteenth birthday?”

“He’s a dangerous criminal,” she repeated, with emphasis. “His past actions don’t excuse his current ones. We don’t know why he stole the Chaos Emerald--”

“Is that what was in the bank?” I shook my head. “Not important. I saw that footage on TV. That could have been any hedgehog.”

“Could any hedgehog have moved fast enough to leave only a single frame on the security footage?” she challenged.

I stared at her. “...Yes. All hedgehogs are fast. As fast as Sonic, no, but that footage was garbage! It probably wouldn’t take much to only get one frame!” I knew two guys in school who could’ve moved between video frames that choppy. They couldn’t keep that speed up for long, but in a short hallway short bursts of speed go far enough. Amy probably could’ve done it even with those heels of hers.

Palisade’s frown deepened. “It doesn’t matter. Sonic is the primary suspect in the case, and he isn’t helping himself by running away.”

“He ran away--” I began, taking a step forward until the soldiers around me drew their weapons. I lowered my voice. “He ran away because you were driving a giant-ass truck after him. If he hadn’t he’d have been roadkill.”

I sagged. I could feel the energy leaving me; anger was hard to maintain, and without being in active danger I couldn’t keep it up for long.

The Captain pursed her lips, considering. “I should--”

-bsrz- “Trench to Palisade, do you read me Captain? Over.”

The Captain held up a finger and took the walkie talkie off her belt. “I read you. What now? Over.”

“Sonic was just seen in the market district. Witness described a spiky figure moving at supersonic speeds snatching a young mouse Mobian out of an older woman’s arms and absconding with her. Over.”

Palisade’s expression darkened. She holstered the device and turned to me. “Sonic just kidnapped someone.”

“No the fuck he didn’t!” I protested, but then what the other guy said registered. Mouse Mobian?

No.

“Humi!”

----------------------------

[Angora]

A Little Earlier

Angora the Rabbit had a plan in mind, when her son walked up to the door. She fully intended to play the part of overly-doting parent; lay on the sweetness, baby him a little, really lay the embarrassment on thick. Only for a day or two. Honestly, it was the least she could do after the stress he put her through. She wasn’t ready for gray hairs yet!

All that got dashed when she opened the door and saw him with a little girl and a robot.

Humi was a delight. She was cute, funny, cheerful, very smart, and she had a mischievous streak that Angora could appreciate. She didn’t know where this cutie came from, but she was glad Hayden picked her up. The idea that this child was living on the street until he found her made her heart ache.

Iota was also interesting, even if Angora didn’t know what to make of him, not least because Humi apparently built him herself! Well, with help, but if she did her fair share it was still impressive!

And then--oho, and then--Hayden told her that he had adopted her! It was so cute she wanted to scream! Hayden was young for a parent, but he had her and Devon to fall back on when he needed advice, and they were happy to help. Angora was proud of him. Proud of Humi, too.

“Have you considered school?” she asked idly as they walked down the road. Parking was scarce in this part of town, and since the ATV Humi made probably wasn’t street legal they’d stashed it in an alleyway. Ha, that took her back…

“Ew, no.” 

The answer was fast and short, and got a startled laugh out of her. “W-What? Why not?”

“Because then I’d give up most of my day to a bunch of useless sitting around doing nothing!” She folded her arms. “Tails doesn’t go to school!”

Angora didn’t know who Tails was, exactly. Oh, she’d gotten context from Hayden, and she recognized the name from somewhere outside that, but that was it. “Maybe not, but you should still consider it. I know you’ve had problems reading.”

“I’m trying, but it’s hard.” Humi stuck out her tongue, though she didn’t aim it at Angora herself.

“Hm. Is it an issue with… would you describe it as words and letters seeming to move around on the page?”

The mouse gave her a confused look. “What? No. I just don’t get all the rules. ‘J’ is supposed to make a ‘juh’ sound, but sometimes it sounds like ‘Y’ and makes a ‘yuh?’ And then ‘G’ can be guh or juh or fff and it’s weird!”

Angora tilted her head. “...And it isn’t hard to focus, or, or blurry?”

“No.”

Probably not a case of dyslexia or needing glasses then. “...I’m afraid you just need practice then. And you’d get that at school~!”

“Hmf.”

Angora didn’t push anymore than that. This was supposed to be a fun day out! “Well, we can leave it alone for now, but think about it. We’re here, by the way.”

Humi immediately perked up.

Angora smiled as she rushed into the sports shop. She never skated herself, but she had friends who did. One of them was the owner of this shop, an old cardinal named Reverend, though for obvious reasons he went by Rev.

While she caught up with Rev, Humi explored the shop. Angora kept an ear trained on her, but she trusted the girl to stay out of trouble. She ran back over once or twice to ask questions that Rev was happy to answer.

“How fast does this one go?”

“That there’s a beginner model, built for speeds of 500 miles per hour. It’s got a built-in limiter cap you can plug in to keep it at speeds appropriate for the city, which brings it down to 60.”

“Where’s the power source on this one? I can’t find the battery compartment.”

“That one runs on a GP unit. Don’t ask me how it works, but it somehow uses the force of gravity to generate potential energy when not in use. Totally clean and never needs replacing, but runs out of juice faster than the air tank of ring models.”

“Do you have any Grind Shoe mods?”

Rev’s brows raised. “Grind Shoes? As it happens, I do. I see you’ve got a pair yourself, do you have something in mind?”

“Actually, I wanted to get something for Heyu,” Humi said, kicking her toes against the ground. “Are there any that, uh, let you jump in midair?”

Rev rubbed his beak. “...double jump, huh? That sounds like a Type C Air mod. I’ll have to check in the back.”

“Are you sure you don’t want something for yourself?” Angora asked, smiling.

“I want to get something for Heyu,” Humi repeated. “He’s always helping me find scrap and junk. I could build him something, but… Grind Shoes are complicated and I don’t understand them yet.” She fidgeted, embarrassed. “He does a lot for me, I wanna do something for him.”

Angora hid a smile behind her hand. This child… “Rev, how much would they cost?”

The bird hummed. “Well, let me see if I have one first.”

“Do you need to know his shoe size?”

Rev flapped his hand dismissively. “Don’t work like that. Be right back.”

He had one left, as it happened, and since the mod was apparently an unpopular one he gave them what he called a reasonable price. Still, it was more than Angora had expected to spend… not that she’d expected to buy anything, but she couldn’t say no to gift-giving.

Humi stood on tip-toe to look over the counter. “Um… Do you take rings?”

Rev leaned forward, interested. “You’ve got rings, missy?”

The mouse dug in one of her pockets, and then dropped a stack of thirty rings or various sizes on the counter. They appeared suddenly in that odd way Humi’s items often did, and caught Rev by surprise enough that he fell out of his chair.

Truth be told, Angora didn’t know how much a ring was worth, and she suspected Rev didn’t either, but they were impressive-looking, and it wasn’t like the Air mod was selling anyway, so he accepted the payment as it was. He bagged their order and waved them away happily as they left.

As they left, Angora gave a small shout when Humi started climbing up her back.

“Oh! Sorry,” Humi said, dropping back down. “Heyu barely notices when I do that, so I got used to it…”

“No no! It’s fine,” she assured her basically-granddaughter. “You just caught me by surprise. Here.”

Angora picked Humi up by the shoulders and held her out. She grinned. “Oh, look at you, I could just pinch your cheeks!”

Humi smirked flatly. “I bite.”

She burst out laughing and let Humi sit on her shoulders. They started making their way back to where they left the vehicle, and Angora let her gaze wander. There were more people on the street now. A few human tourists were wandering about, plus it was a little before noon, so lots of lunch breaks were happening. Ooh, lunch sounded good actually. Did Humi like pizza or tacos? Or burgers? Angora had been doing good on her diet but she could probably afford one cheat day, and if you got a veggie-lover’s that was practically a salad, right?

“Humi, do you--” want something to eat, she didn’t say, because her ear twitched and she frowned. “--hear a plane flying overhead?”

It had the right sound, but the acoustics was wrong. Or something. It didn’t sound like it was coming from overhead, but more like it was down on--

The street cracked, as suddenly there was a thing in the middle of the road. The nearest cars’ windows shattered, and several pedestrians fell to the ground. Angora was no exception, and Humi hit the ground with a roll.

Dust filled the air, and Angora sat up with a cough, waving a hand to clear the air in front of her. “Humi?! Humi are you alright?”

“I’m good!”

She couldn’t see her! “What’s going on?”

The dust began to settle, and something yellow lit it up. Angora shivered as whatever-it-was stepped forward.

It looked like…

Humi, nearby but just out of reach, gasped. “You?!”

The horrible thing pointed at itself. It had no mouth, but it felt like it was smirking. Then it pointed at Humi.

“...Who? Me?”

Girl you were wonderful and adorable but now was not the time. “Humi--”

Angora reached out to grab her, but she was too slow. The thing moved and was suddenly there, giving Angora a good, detailed view of it. It grabbed Humi, and then both of them were gone, leaving Angora lying on the ground, arm outstretched.

Stunned silence fell over the street. Angora’s mouth flapped. A million thoughts and feelings ran through her head, but what came out of her mouth was:

“That thing… It almost looked like Sonic…”

She said it as a murmur. The next person didn’t.

“What did she say? Did she say that was Sonic the Hedgehog?” a dazed and confused tourist asked, loudly.

Someone else shouted. “Sonic?! That was Sonic?!”

Angora wasn’t listening to any of that. Her brain finally caught up to what had just happened, and she screamed.