Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Light falls across the interior of a dark room. Several metallic structures are buried beneath the gray-brown layer of the dust and another layer of dark red rust. A bulky figure with an oddly shaped nose walks into the room with his torch. While he uses it to see, he is careful not to let the fire get too close to any of the structures he finds inside the room. He eventually finds a good place to put his torch to free his hands, though it is clear that nothing in this room was designed for a torch like that. Unfortunately, the human does not recognize the glass contraptions as light bulbs that could illuminate the room if there was some electricity flowing through them.

The man actually doesn’t recognize anything in the room for what it once was. He does, however, have some understanding about what it could be. This is the reason why he frequently returns to the room. He never cleans the dust or clears away the rust, but he does take resources from the depths of the room. He uses these materials to construct his own inventions that are an imitation of what this laboratory could have produced a long time ago.

Among the stolen goods, the man takes a relatively small and thin rectangle made from metal and glass. It is gray and black with handles on both sides. Although he went through the effort of removing it from where it belongs, he doesn’t end up doing anything with it. He just puts it in a completely different location—a cleaner but obviously less technologically advanced building made from stone blocks and a tile roof. Whether fate is involved or not, he conveniently leaves the rectangle beside a window. There is no glass, so unfiltered sunlight falls across the back of the square. It soaks in the sunlight day-by-day, threading the interior with energy.

Eventually, the man grows disillusioned with the project he was working on with the other stolen goods. He leaves it and everything else he removed from that underground laboratory. He cannot, however, stop the sunlight from seeping in through the window. Eventually, there is enough energy that the rectangle activates as a hand-held tablet (a device from the old civilization).

This tablet is special, however. It only runs a singular program. With enough energy, the system reboots and begins running the program. It takes time for everything to load, but eventually, it all snaps together. The program completely restarts. Although the tablet is face down, the screen illuminates with a flash of purple light. A stylized smiling face appears before it is replaced with a messaging board. The keyboard uses characters that no one in the current era would recognize. A vertical line blinks in the bubble where a message would have been written. And after a moment, a different bubble appears on the opposite side of the screen with black words and a purple background. If translated, the message would read: HELLO!

Several moments later, another bubble appears right under it, pushing the greeting upward. Again, it would need to be translated, but the bubble would read: HELLO? IS SOMEONE THERE?

MY NAME IS NICOLE. WHAT IS YOUR NAME?

ARE YOU MY CREATOR?

DO YOU KNOW DR. ELLIDY?

The messages continue to flit across the screen. Eventually, they come to a stop. This is because the sender realizes that no one is going to answer her. As she pushes against the bounds of her prison, she realizes that the camera attached to the top of her tablet—her ‘eyes,’ so to speak—is both covered in dust and shrouded in darkness. If she’s getting energy, the tablet must be face down. No one is able to look at her messages.

Nicole considers her options. Eventually, she decides to reactivate the other amenities attached to her tablet. It takes some time and allocation of the limited energy that only lands on the solar panels along the tablet’s back for a few hours every day, but eventually, Nicole gets the tablet to start buzzing. The movement and noise should attract someone’s attention. They will flip the tablet around. Once they see the messages, she will be able to communicate with someone. She needs to do this because she needs answers about what happened. The last record on the tablet is her auditory processors picking up on her creator, Dr. Ellidy, panicking about a spreading darkness and coldness outside his laboratory. 

The tablet has been buzzing for upwards of an hour. No one answers. It continues long through the night. Nicole eventually shuts the system off to preserve energy. She keeps the microphone on, however. She has written a program that the tablet will start buzzing if the microphone hears a noise. This, unfortunately, isn’t refined, so the tablet buzzes at the sound of the wind or the animals, but Nicole doesn’t shut it off. Success is more likely if it goes off at everything than if it didn’t go off at all.

In the meantime, Nicole starts activating other programs. She tries transmitting messages to the other machines Dr. Ellidy created. Nothing responds. The messages don’t even go through. Nicole also can’t access the internet. Nicole does not have information to formulate any conclusions. 

Her attempts at trying to gather more information leads her to booting up a program her creator reluctantly added to the tablet. He wasn’t sure about it because it senses divine power in the air. During Nicole’s last analysis of her surroundings, there was only one kind of divine power. Now, there are different kinds. She doesn’t recognize any of them except for two. One is the sun god—the one from her era—but the other one is a god she simply understands as if she was programmed with the information already: Tails, the god of technology. She falls under his domain, and she knows this because someone added a new file to her systems. She can’t trace who added it, though. It’s simply there when the last time she was activated it wasn’t.

Nicole scans the entire file in the same instance she runs an analysis on the divine power in the air. The one belonging to Tails is prominent in the air. It is also… tangible, in a way she doesn’t understand. She realizes, eventually, that she can project her system in a holographic form by using the divine power. She gathers it together, and suddenly, she’s been removed from the tablet.

Her creator was a lynx. She looks similar to one, too, because it is the only reference she has. While she doesn’t have a concept of clothing, her holographic form has appeared wearing some. She considers them for a moment. They ultimately do not matter, however, all that matters is figuring out where her creator is.

Nicole does not find her creator. She isn’t able to go far from her tablet, and in that limited area, Dr. Ellidy is nowhere to be found. This building is also unfamiliar. It isn’t the laboratory she was made in. It also isn’t at all similar to any other building she saw through the internet back when she had access to it. The material and designs are all ancient, but this building has only been abandoned for a few months at most. It is impractical to build like this when there are better, sturdier methods, but perhaps the architect had something specific in mind.

She wouldn’t know. She hasn’t met anyone. Dr. Ellidy, obviously, isn’t around, but she expected to find some hint of life. Someone would have taken her tablet from the laboratory to this place. Where did they go? Why did they leave her behind? Were they not aware of the tablet’s purpose? Were they not aware of her existence?

Nicole should deactivate herself. Although she has a learning algorithm, her creator would not want her using divine energy to project a holographic form or wandering around aimlessly without purpose (as if she was designed with a purpose). Logic dictates that she is useless, and all that which is useless should be shelved away until it can be recalibrated for a new use.

Nicole does not follow this protocol. She remains in her holographic form, traveling through the many rooms like a ghost. It is for this reason that she finds an existence similar to her own. It is not another hologram or AI program. Rather, it is a robot. Nicole has some experience with them. She is not the only creation of Dr. Ellidy, after all. Nicole would have to connect with this robot to know if it is another creation of Dr. Ellidy. The possibility is what compels her to approach the robot laid out on the table (it certainly is not loneliness because she should be incapable of emotions like that).

Although it was self-given, Nicole has an objective. She gets to work on it immediately. Fortunately, the hardware has already been completed. There is even a program already implemented in the software. Nicole only needs to activate it. She does so both by hacking into the robot and by supplementing its internal engines with the same divine power she uses. Time is meaningless to her, but it takes her a few days in order to make the robot activate.

The hardware changes. At least, it does in design. The dull blue of the exterior shell darkens into onyx black. Yellow lines cross over the surface, steadily bleeding toward outright gold. The divine power crystallizes into a gemstone on the front. The color of the gemstone is the same as the pupils—deep red. There is no iris, only a black sclera. These changes, however, do not stop the machine from rising from the metal table it was abandoned on. It turns to look at Nicole, registering her presence.

“Hello,” Nicole states. It is odd having a voice. She has never spoken aloud before. She has heard Dr. Ellidy speak, though, and with some modifications to her vocal range, she emulates him. “I am Nicole. What is your name?”

The robot reaches gray, metallic fingers to a throat-like construct separating the main body from the ‘head.’ Those fingers pull open a cavity filled with jointed metal beams and wires. The fingers are thin enough to move further inward. Nicole watches as the robot rummages around inside itself. When the fingers shut the cavity, the robot speaks in a staticky voice. “I do not have a name. I am a failure.”

“What was your original directive?” Nicole asks.

“My directive was to overthrow the head god,” The robot responds.

“The head god…” Nicole repeats. “There are more gods now than when I was last active. How did this come to be?”

The robot’s head tilts to the side. It is a rather animalistic way of showing confusion. Nicole doesn’t understand how she’s able to identify it. “You are from the old civilization. It was ended by an event known as the Endless Night. This was over hundreds of years long. The new gods were created during the Endless Night. They have remained. Mortal-kind has restarted their technological progress. I was created by a genius using technology from the old civilization.”

“Our god has forsaken us… Oh, how mortals have wounded the lord of all light… darkness has fallen in the wake of the golden god’s wrath… it is too late for me, Nicole… I’m sorry your father failed you, Nikki…”

Nicole replays the last recording she has before she was completely deactivated. The darkness Dr. Ellidy was referring to must have been this.

“Understood. I will record this information for future reference,” Nicole informs the robot. Once she has completed this task, she rationalizes it. Dr. Ellidy was not an immortal; he must be dead. Her creator never gave her a designation. She was still in the testing phase, he would say. Nicole will remain in the testing phase. She will never be given a purpose.

This robot is like her. He failed his purpose. 

“There is a tablet in the adjoining room. I request that you bring this tablet outside,” Nicole tells the robot. He is silent, but he dutifully leaps off the table. While her footsteps are completely silent due to not possessing any mass, every footfall of his is clunky and loud, echoing across the halls. 

Because of Nicole’s direction, he takes the tablet. Together, they find the door that leads them outside. It is a porch-like location. Nicole, however, continues onto the grass. She tilts her head back. It is… strange. She assumed there were clouds covering the sky, but no, the sky is black. There are pinpricks of light in many different colors. There is a silver circle, glowing in a faint light. Nicole came outside to gather more information about where she is and what she can do, but she turns around to ask the robot about the sky.

“This is night,” The robot responds.

“The Endless Night ended,” Nicole reminds him of what he said.

“Yes. When the Endless Night ended, it created a cycle known as day and night. Day belongs to Sonic. The sun is his divine eye. The night belongs to a new god known as Shadow. That is the moon, his divine eye. The smaller lights are known as stars. They are under the domain of the goddess Maria,” The robot explains.

“I will update my files about day and night,” Nicole says. She also creates new files about Shadow and Maria, putting them under a greater collection of files that pertain to the divinities. She knows a lot about Sonic and Tails. She knows nothing about these new gods. She only knows Shadow and Maria’s names and one domain of each of them.

“It would be beneficial.” The robot looks down at the tablet. “Is bringing this outside my only directive?”

“It is the only one I have given you. Do you require another one?”

“No.” After a moment, the robot adds, “I do not wish to be deactivated.”

“Neither do I. How do we give meaning to our existences in this new era that does not have a place for us?”

“We should start by eliminating that phrasing from our understanding of our situation. This new era has a place for us. We need to find it,” The robot responds, crossing his arms over his chest. He looks toward the stars. “I must start with the adoption of a name.”

Nicole only knows three names: her own, Ellidy, and Nikki. None of them belong to the robot in front of her. They cannot. Nicole, therefore, looks through random words that she has in her system. Eventually, her processors latch onto one. “Shall I call you ‘Shard’?”

The robot appraises this new name. “I find that amenable. Henceforth, I am Shard. You are Nicole. We are constructs from the old civilization. We will find a purpose in this era.”

“Correct,” Nicole nods. She returns to Shard. She stands beside him at the edge of the stone platform in front of the building they came from. They both stare at the sky. Nicole flips through every occupation. Unfortunately, she does not know how many of them are still achievable within this era. 

Shard breaks the silence. “We are both powered by the divine power of Tails, the god of technology. We are most similar to clerics. We could become priests of the god.”

Nicole turns her attention to the building behind them. “It does resemble an old temple. How does one worship a divinity?”

“We should have information about it,” Shard replies. Nicole looks through the appropriate file. She quickly finds that there isn’t anything specific. Tails is either a new god or he is one with so few worshippers that there is no available information. Shard, too, finds nothing in his own databanks. “We will worship Tails in any way we deem acceptable.”

“If it is unacceptable, the divinity could arrive to give us a directive,” Nicole mentions.

Shard nods. “Yes, that is possible.”

“It is preferable.”

Shard seems to agree with her. “Let us go back inside. We will adjust the interior to be suitable as a temple to our god.”

“Understood.”

Chapter Text

In a cavern far deeper in the ground than any mortal could go, the god of the earth and mountains works diligently to create gemstones to hide away within the dirt and in the mines. Knuckles condenses his divine energy to create these precious jewels. Every single one that he’s created thus far are normal gems. They do not possess even a hint of supernatural power, and they are not particularly rare. The echidna will cast them into the earth’s surface across the continent and below the ocean’s bottom in due time, once he’s made as many as he needs to in order to balance the ratio within the mortal realm again (it isn’t his fault that mortals offer jewels to the god of jewels, even if he’s the one that has to fix this problem).

As Knuckles completes his task, he decides to finish the project he’s been working on for a lengthy period of time (a long time for mortals, and a non-normal amount for a divinity such as himself). Knuckles turns away from the altar where he makes his usual jewels and stones. He lifts his paws upward. He senses the large cavern around him. Eventually, his current project resonates with his power. His divine influence pulls it from its hiding place in the cavern’s stone walls. It levitates toward him, landing squarely in his palms. He lowers it to his chest, cradling the egg-like gemstone. He has already given it the name ‘Black Onyx’ despite not being finished with it. Although he considers the Master Emerald to be his magnum opus, he believes the Black Onyx will be another masterpiece.

Knuckles turns back to the altar. He sets the Black Onyx down on the bejeweled surface. Once the Black Onyx hovers above the altar, Knuckles gets to work threading his divine power around the Black Onyx in order to finish its physical shape and the abilities it will come to possess. There is not much left to do, but Knuckles only works on it sparingly just in case he gets a better idea that will elevate the Black Onyx even further. But he cannot postpone its completion forever, so he decides that it will be done within the scope of today.

Time is a funny thing to both divinities and those who work underground—unseen by the divine eyes of the god of day and the god of night—but Knuckles does believe he accomplishes it ‘today.’ When he finishes, he holds a black, ovaloid gemstone. It absorbs all the surrounding light, creating a misty distortion around it. Knuckles moves his fingers across the smooth, glassy surface. He considers for a moment where he’s going to put it. When no ideas immediately jump out at him and he refuses to bring such a wondrous creation back to the divine realm with him, he decides that he will consider the matter further once he’s put the other gems he’s created in the earth and mines of the mortal realm.

Knuckles turns away from his altar to complete his task. He closes his eyes, focusing all of his divine power on the piles of gemstones and jewels left at his feet. They begin floating, a red energy forming a current between them. Whether it be a cave or a mountain or even a mortal-made structure, Knuckles and his creations can enter it so long as it touches the earth. He does not frequently use this ability except for situations like this one. In the old days, he would sew the jewels like seeds himself, but mortals have come a long way. They recognize him now. He was always the weakest of the divinities in hiding his presence, after all.

(He also seems to be the weakest in sensing other divinities.)

Once Knuckles is finished, he turns back around to handle the Black Onyx. He stares at his altar for a few seconds, blankly blinking as he processes the simple fact that the Black Onyx isn’t there. Since he didn’t do anything with it, someone else must have. Someone must have stolen it right under his nose, waiting in the shadows for the moment he became distracted by his task.

Knuckles’ fists tremble at his sides. He steps forward, creating cracks in the ground of his private workshop. A voice capable of shattering mountains and quaking the earth leaves him, “Rouge!”

He gets no response, but he swears that he hears the echo of a giggle in the air.

Like all divinities, Rouge—the goddess of wealth, trade, and economy—has a home in the divine realm. She isn’t the only one with a palace, either, though she likely has more treasuries than anyone else. This fact is inconsequential since she isn’t in one of her treasuries right now. She sits on a plush divan in a private chamber. One of the walls is missing, letting the outside world waft into Rouge’s palace. She remains in the shade of the awning, but beams of sunlight and moonlight dance across the edges of the overhang, trying to get into the room.

Since they are unable to reach her, however, no one knows what Rouge is doing right now. This is for the best. She doesn’t need anyone discovering that she’s here or that she truly is in possession of a stolen item. There are very few in the divine realm who are more loyal to her than they are to Knuckles—or, in many cases, they are more troubled by his wrath than by hers. He, after all, can shake the earth and destroy mortal lives when his temper flares, coaxing lava from the core or splitting mountains right down the middle. She, in comparison, can only slow trade for a little while.

They’ve forgotten what mortals will do in the depths of their greed. She, of course, hasn’t forgotten. She was created by SEGA specifically to keep mortal’s greed in check. It was that emotion, among others, that corrupted the mortal realm to the point that Sonic unleashed the Endless Night. Rouge has the very important task of making sure that humans never become that greedy again, lest they have another Endless Night. Perhaps that’s why the divinities aren’t as wary of her since she won’t ever create the same large-scale destruction as Knuckles, not without invoking the chilling anger of the sun god.

Well, Rouge doesn’t need their help. Knuckles has been looking for her for weeks in order to take back his gemstone, and she’s evaded him every single time. She’s been toying with him, and she can’t wait to see when he figures it out. In the meantime, Rouge will spend all the time in the world with the precious little gemstone.

It was pure black when Rouge first stole it (likely why the name Black Onyx was embedded into its composition). Rouge, however, has been filling it with her own divine power in order to chase away the smell of the echidna. Her influence has accidentally made the gemstone into a more purple color, still dark but now less light-absorbant and more light-reflective. Additionally, there is now a pattern forming a soft shade of violet inside the stone. Rouge doesn’t recognize the pattern, though it seems to be six kites—two smaller than the rest—in an almost triangular arrangement.

Rouge runs her fingers along the pattern now. It radiates divine energy right back at her. Maybe because it’s a mixture of her own and Knuckles’, it’s almost unfamiliar. It’s certainly different from anything she’s felt before. That could be why she’s still holding onto it, even after all this time, even after she’s told herself to either return it or give Knuckles a proper shot at getting it back from her. She wants to know more about this new energy. She wants to continue feeling its mild presence brush up against her, not demanding attention but almost… welcoming it—enjoying it. 

Then again, Rouge might be holding onto it because she doesn’t want Knuckles to have it back until her divine energy overpowers his. 

Awareness comes slower than existence. The self developed first. It came swiftly, too. In one second, nothingness, and in the next, an approximation of life—a consciousness. Thoughts were harder to come by, but there were instincts and undefined desires that could coax a simulacrum into genuine being. It was in these burgeoning places that cognizance was permitted, and in some ways, became necessary. 

However, sensation—and furthermore the ability to recognize and rationalize these sensations—came more slowly. It had to, or else the consciousness would suffer. It would buckle like a poorly built structure, returning to nothingness and likely never returning to reality again. Like most beings, death (or what could be considered death to a consciousness that had no concept of death nor anything more than a mimicry of a soul to pass onward) was a state to be avoided at all costs. If gaining understanding needed to be slow, it would simply be that for the safety and longevity of that which seeks to come into itself as ‘real.’ 

Even if one were to go slowly, however, they will eventually reach the finish line, especially if they are steady with their progress. The consciousness had been. They were rewarded for this by achieving certain milestones in the process of being alive—personality, memory, emotions, and finally, most painstakingly of all, a body. 

She—for that pronoun feels right, at least in the moment—now has a container for her consciousness. It is a body with small proportions and fragile bearings, though she cannot be certain if that’s because of its newness or if that’s simply the kind of body her essence was able to construct. Either way, it has its problems, but she doesn’t consider them as such when she has joy in her heart for achieving this state of her actualization process.

Her body does more than harbor her consciousness (her soul, perhaps?); it also gives her the awareness she was seeking. She has ‘senses’ now. They are her connection to the physical world, a sturdier bridge than the divine energy she had been subsisting off of as she figured what it meant to ‘be.’ 

With her senses, she begins identifying what surrounds her body. The air is cool and dry. This carries into the thin but persistent stench filling the space. There’s a certain metallic quality to the taste on her tongue. It is dark, though not enough that she cannot see. There are jagged surfaces all around her—above, below, to the sides—made from brown-orange stone. She must be in an underground cavern, which would also explain the lack of light.

While all of this is fascinating to someone who is ‘experiencing’ for the first time, her attention is captured by sound. There are two figures in the cavern with her. Appearances alone, she is not similar to them. They are different sizes, heights, shapes, colors, and compositions. Although she has not yet tried out her own voice, she assumes that, too, would be drastically different from these two figures who more than likely have been consciousnesses with bodies for far longer than she. 

They are not completely devoid of similarities, however. They have one that extends even beyond the simple fact that all three of them are ‘alive.’ No, these two have divine signatures. They are gods oozing with divine power. Because she’s been basking in it since she came into existence, she knows that these two polarizing energies are what she used to come into being. They are, in some ways, her creators. She is a part of them, though they don’t seen to have noticed her yet. 

They are—as she understands it—communicating with each other. They are loud and full of motion as they do so. Although her range of emotions is limited by inexperience, she recognizes anger in them. She recognizes that she, in response, feels fear. It spikes right through her in a way that is honestly uncomfortable. She doesn’t want them to be angry; she wants them to be happy. If she could make more sense of her emotions, she would be able to say that she wants them to be proud of her for the progress she made by coming into existence. 

Although she isn’t certain where they came from, her body naturally has instincts. They compel her to curl inward. A metal helmet over her head slides down to cover her eyes. Her chest presses into an object she didn’t know she was holding in her chest. She examines it, recognizing it dimly as her ‘incubator.’ She also knows that it is part of her essence external to herself. She pushes the shards together, reforming what she knows—somehow—is called the Black Onyx.

Her happiness (again, pride) at putting it back together is purged by the sudden realization that she doesn’t hear noises anymore. She looks up to find the two gods staring at her. They are (surprised, confused, curious) unhappy to see her. She doesn’t like this, nor is she fond of the way her heart plummets. 

“Well, look at this little thief trying to outdo me,” The goddess states. She flies over with a pair of wings. The goddess lands in front of her, leaning down to get a better look. 

“Great! Now, there’s two of them!” The god complains, marching over with footsteps that rattle the earth beneath him.

Spooked, she makes a quiet noise and curls further around the Black Onyx. The goddess’ expression softens minutely; the god’s countenance doesn’t shift at all. There is, however, a rather gentleness in the way he picks her up from underneath her armpits. She hugs the Black Onyx tightly, refusing to let it drop even when her feet dangle under her. 

“Huh. She fixed the Black Onyx,” The god notes. If there are emotions in his voice, she doesn’t know them. 

“Wait a minute,” The goddess murmurs. She takes the Black Onyx. The god gives her a narrowed, pointed look. The goddess ignores him, tucking the Black Onyx underneath her arm and against her hip. She almost leans away from it as she pushes up the helmet, revealing a pair of black eyes that have not yet gained color from age. “She’s a spirit.”

That sounds… right. It is correct. She is a spirit. Although unsure about what that means, she has confidence in her answer. 

“Aren’t all the spirits with Vanilla?” The god asks. 

“She must be new,” The goddess notes. She moves her fingers across the spirit’s face. She doesn’t mind the touch. In fact, she likes it, especially because it’s coming from this goddess. The two divinities don’t seem angry anymore. They don’t look all that happy, either, but she has faith. “She… must have come from the Black Onyx.”

“How could that have happened?” The god demands (incredulously, face twisted up with confusion).

The goddess swings the Black Onyx back in front of her. She holds it out like the god is currently holding the spirit (she thinks she wants to be held closer, but she’s not going to ask for that). The goddess moves the Black Onyx around, getting a feel for it. The same divine energy that made the spirit lingers inside the Black Onyx, providing a bridge between the two. “You filled it with your divine power. I did, too, to get rid of your power. But our energies must have mixed. It used the Black Onyx as a natural phenomenon. Now, we have a new spirit.”

“Well, that’s—”

The goddess is quick. She takes the spirit and shoves the Black Onyx into the god’s paws. When the goddess holds the spirit, she brings the little one close, going so far as to set the spirit on her hip like she did with the gemstone moments prior. The god is left reeling, but the goddess is taking the spirit farther away from him. “Hello there! My name is Rouge. That dummy over there is Knuckles. We made you. Isn’t that neat?”

She nods. When she stops, however, a frown pulls onto her lips. Rouge. Knuckles. She’s glad to know their names, but it serves as a reminder that she doesn’t know her own. She doesn’t have one. She doesn’t like that. It makes her feel… less real, in a way.

The goddess is talking about how the spirit is going to help her with something (stealing), but she isn’t exactly listening. She looks over Rouge’s shoulder. Knuckles stares right at her. This eye contact lasts even as Knuckles follows after them and catches up. Although not as graceful, Knuckles switches the spirit with the Black Onyx. He holds her closer than before, but it’s still different. His arm is around her stomach, keeping her held between his forearm and his midsection. She leans back to look at him. Knuckles’ eyes are filled with (understanding, intrigue, protectiveness) happiness. 

“I’m gonna call you Trip. Let’s get you to Vanilla.”

Trip. A name! She has one! Knuckles gave her one. She feels (excited, cared for, known) warm. This must also be happiness.

Knuckles starts taking her away. Rouge follows them this time, still talking about how Trip is going to be a great thief. Knuckles denies these claims, but neither of them are as angry as they were earlier. Trip likes this, so she smiles and lets herself be taken away. 

Chapter Text

{[Metal] requests to open a private channel with [Tails]}

→{Accept}

     {Deny}

Metal: Extract the sun god from my domain

{[Metal] has left the private channel}

{[Tails] requests to open a private channel with [Metal]}

     {Accept}

 →{Deny}

{[Tails] requests to open a private channel with [Metal]}

     {Accept}

 →{Deny}

{[Tails] requests to open a private channel with [Metal]}

     {Accept}

 →{Deny}

{[Tails] requests to open a private channel with [Metal]}

→{Accept}

     {Deny}

Metal: There is no reason to maintain communication.

Tails: hold on

Tails: what is this

Metal: Extract the sun god from my domain

Tails: what are you talking about

Metal: Extract the sun god from my domain

Metal: Extract the sun god from my domain

Metal: Extract the sun god from my domain

Tails: why are you

Metal: Extract the sun god from my domain

Metal: Extract the sun god from my domain

Tails: stop

Metal: Extract the sun god from my domain

Metal: Extract the sun god from my domain

Metal: Extract the sun god from my domain

Tails: geez i get it

Tails: ill come get sonic

{[Metal] has left the private channel}

Tails: you could have told me where you two were!!

{[Tails] has saved the private channel}

{[Tails] has archived the private channel}

{[Tails] has left the private channel}

{Initiating [FRIENDLY PROTOCOL]}

| WARNING - UNKNOWN HACKER - WARNING |

{[Nicole] has entered the private channel}

Nicole: Hello?

{[Nicole] has sent an alert}

{[Tails] has entered the private channel}

Tails: hello

Nicole: Hello! Are you [Tails, the god of technology]?

Tails: among other domains

Tails: youre not metal

Tails: Huh?

Nicole: I am Nicole. It was a name given by my creator, [Dr. Ellidy].

Tails: no no i see your name but youre from the old civilization

Nicole: I have been told that it was the era before the [Endless Night] was called. If this statement is true, you speak factually.

Tails: yes

Tails: why are you activated

Nicole: I absorbed a sufficient amount of light and divine power to reactivate. This was caused by a mortal known as [Robotnik] removing my tablet from [Dr. Ellidy]’s laboratory.

Tails: of course robotnik is involved

Tails: wait

Tails: are you one of my priests

Nicole: Affirmative. My companion, [Shard], and I have inputted worshipping you as our directive. Are we unnecessary? Are our methods of worship unsatisfactory?

Tails: no

Tails: its fine i guess

Tails: neither of you are doing anything that i need to punish you for

Nicole: Disobeying our god is against our directive.

Tails: yeah

Tails: whyd you break into this channel

Nicole: I sensed it. I did not know its purpose. Am I correct in my understanding that this is a private channel between you and [Metal, god of the ocean]?

Tails: just a communication channel

Tails: we can talk here

Nicole: Am I permitted to add [Shard]? He has verbally expressed a desire to communicate with you.

Tails: go ahead

{[Shard] has entered the private channel}

Shard: h

Shard: o

Shard: w

Shard:

Shard: d

Nicole: Write a complete message and then send.

Shard: o

Shard: oh. like this?

Nicole: Yes.

Tails: hello shard

Shard: my lord!

Tails: you can just call me tails

Shard: are we supposed to call our god by his name?

Nicole: We are supposed to do what our god tells us to do.

Shard: makes sense.

Tails: you guys dont have to worship me

Shard: are we that bad at it?

Nicole: This contradicts [Tails]’ earlier statement.

Tails: or you guys can worship me if you want

Shard: we want to.

Nicole: It is our directive.

Tails: if you say so

Tails: here let me add someone

{[Gemerl] has entered the private channel}

Gemerl: I have been summoned.

Tails: hey gemerl 

Tails: meet our new friends nicole and shard

Nicole: Greetings, [Gemerl].

Shard: hello!

Gemerl: Salutations.

Gemerl: There is one more individual in this channel.

Tails: thats metal he made this channel

{[Nicole] has sent an alert}

{[Shard] has sent an alert}

{[Gemerl] has sent an alert}

Tails:  we dont have to do this

{[Nicole] has sent an alert}

{[Shard] has sent an alert}

{[Gemerl] has sent an alert}

{[Nicole] has sent an alert}

{[Shard] has sent an alert}

{[Gemerl] has sent an alert}

{[Metal] has entered the private channel}

Metal: The ocean will submerge you all

- Everything below this line isn't canon-

Tails: we need to distract these guys

Shard: leave it to me. 

Shard: centaurs have six limbs and are therefore insects. discuss. 

Metal & Gemerl: *immediately begin arguing*

—

Shard: Damn, Tails, are you secretly cool?

Tails: Well, poker is just math, so I guess it depends on if you consider the mathematician, Carl Friedrich Gauss, cool.

Shard: I do not.

—

Metal: The gods are no longer with us, I’ll take over.

—

Nicole: The ritual requires a sacrifice.

Metal: I nominate Tails.

Tails: Wait, what?

Shard: Because you're little, you'll fit on a barbecue.

Tails: I'm average height compared to most of the mortal realm!

Nicole: It is not that kind of sacrifice.

Gemerl: Did they want to sacrifice the god this ritual is for?

—

Tails: You’re a loose cannon, Shard.

Shard: No, I’m not. I’m a cannon, maybe, but a loose cannon? Is that what you think of me?

Nicole: I think you play by your own rules.

Gemerl: They think rules were made to be broken.

Tails: Those are all attributes of a loose cannon.

Shard: No, I’m just a reckless renegade. Metal is a loose cannon.

Metal: You will never see the day god’s eye again after I’m done with you

Gemerl: I’d say Metal’s more of a cop on the edge with nothing to lose. That’s an entirely different thing.

Nicole: Now I’m just confused. Is Shard a loose cannon or not?

Tails: All right, no is leaving this communication channel. We’re gonna get to the bottom of this.

Shard: damn.

Metal: The next great disaster will be a flood

—-

Tails: And what did we learn, Gemerl?

Gemerl: Tackling someone isn’t the correct response to being asked a simple question.

—

Nicole: Isn't it weird that people kill mosquitoes just because they're annoying?

Tails: Damn, if people did that to each other, Metal would've killed me years ago.

—

Metal: What is love?

Shard: An emotional minefield.

Gemerl: A neurochemical reaction.

Tails: Baby don't hurt me.

—

Shard: Good morning. As you begin your day, remember that violence is always an option and often the answer.

Nicole:

Shard:

Nicole: ...Return to [Sleep Mode].

—

Nicole: Will Tails be okay?

Metal: They won’t be when I find them.

—

Metal: When I first met you, I did not like you.

Tails: I'm aware of that.

Metal: But then you and I had some time together.

Tails: Uh-huh?

Metal: It did not get better.

—-

Nicole: Are you busy?

Metal: Yes.

Nicole: Cool, listen to this.

—

Metal: Clownery. Tomfoolery. Absolute fuckery, I am going to revoke your life privileges.

—-

Shard: Yeah, I’m a false prophet, but you believed me, so whose fault is it really that we’re in this mess?

Tails: I can make you a true prophet—

Nicole: Let him have this.

—-

Shard: Dammit, you ruin everything!

Metal: You're welcome.

—-

Tails: Are we your friends, Metal?

Metal: No. You’re just in my life and there's nothing I can do about it. I’ve tried.

—

Metal, to Tails: Are you peanuts? Because I want to boil you alive.

—-

Tails: You think you're smarter than everyone else.

Metal: I don't think I'm smarter than everyone else. I know I am.

Chapter Text

The chaos settles within seconds. Silence floods the area. Everything falls motionless. Forces, including the unseen and unknowable ones, lose the frenzy previously sustaining them. Despite these facts, it would be inaccurate to call the atmosphere permeating the space ‘calm.’ Something continues to linger, hanging just beyond the veil of what can be perceived by even the divinities standing around the battlefield. The god of time believes he is the closest to grasping what is fathomless, yet he makes no attempts to because he also knows that it is impossible. What stands behind both infinity and eternity is not his to glimpse, even in the shattered remains of the greater severer or their collapsing realm.

“Silver.”

The god of time’s essence returns to his divine form. His yellow-gold eyes snap to an approaching figure. One of his closest companions (dare he—a god—call her–another god—a friend, as the mortals do?) hurries to his side. Gold’s footsteps are too light to be heard. They always have been, even when they were not in this sliver of a dimension between the divine and mortal realms where sound struggles for survival. Gold stops directly beside Silver. When her body settles, she nods into the distance where their enemy once swore vengeance upon the world and has now been laid to rest.

“Solaris has been defeated. I do not sense his signature in the air any longer.”

Solaris. A spirit of calamity—one of the oldest, in fact. He was born at the beginning of the Endless Night. He, like many of the ancient calamities, was a direct result of Sonic’s subconscious desire to punish mortals for their arrogance and greed, to repay the heartbreak they forced upon him tenfold. A majority of the ancients were destroyed during the Endless Night by the divinities SEGA created to both protect the mortal realm and to draw Sonic out of his darkness. Solaris, however, was one of the very few to survive the extinction event, amassing more and more power until he surpassed a great many of the gods without ever gaining a divine authority for himself (regardless of how mortals often cited him as a god of time and destruction. He was neither. Time is Silver’s domain, and destruction is far too broad to belong to one god. Almost all of them have their own form of destruction, after all). 

But they have finally done it. The gods have destroyed Solaris. Unfortunately, they could not outright kill him. As a consequence of all the power he acquired, ‘killing’ him would only cause that power to pour into the mortal realm. Even without a will controlling it, that power will become a world-ending calamity within its own right. In some ways, it might be even deadlier without Solaris’ desires guiding it toward methodical cruelty rather than senseless waves of disasters.

Silver cannot allow that to happen. This is for several reasons. The one he will cite to whoever asks is that these are the orders SEGA themselves gave him during his creation. He was imbued with two responsibilities by the primordial creator: keeping track of time for the mortals in the Endless Night and to prevent any apocalypses from destroying the world. Only Sonic is permitted to stop and restart the world as he sees fit. Everyone else does not have that luxury, and it is Silver’s duty to whatever he must to ensure this is true. Silver has no reason to defy SEGA; he has no ability to.

(Another reason, however, is entirely personal. Silver, quite simply, loves mortals. He’s aware that his love for them is foreign and alien—too different from how they love each other and even how they interpret their own love for mortalkind. Still, it is a feeling that exists within his heart, and while he may not be able to act on it in conventional ways, preserving their lives and the way they live it is satisfactory enough for him. Though, this is something he will never admit aloud.)

Silver, then, found a creative way to keep Solaris from tearing the fabric of reality because of the personal dimension the ancient calamity created. He split Solaris into two pieces, perfectly balanced and eternally separated.

The deities who helped Silver defeat Solaris and carry out his plan are currently holding these pieces. Standing beside Shadow, Rouge holds a scepter in her hands. It is made from a crystalline material. This scepter confines Solaris’ darkness. The light is trapped inside a flame that Blaze holds. She stands apart from Shadow and Rouge to keep the scepter and the flame from touching each other. But she cannot stray too far, either. It is a precarious situation where the scepter and flame must be held close enough without crossing the line. It is the only way for Solaris’ power and ego to remain unconnected.

“What are we going to do with them?” Rouge asks, glancing between the scepter and the flame. Although she’s interested in jewels, Silver doubts she has any intentions to steal the scepter. The darkness inside of it is a palpable force, radiating outward from the source. It will drive mortals insane. Gods will not be as affected, but no one wants an additional voice whispering in their heads regardless of their divine status.

“We cannot bring them to the divine realm,” Silver immediately states. As the name implies, the divine realm is filled with divine power. The separated pieces are capable of absorbing divine power; that must be avoided at all costs. Too much power might increase the space the two halves have to be from each other, and if no one is able to catch it in time, Solaris will awaken in the divine realm. The might of all the gods will be enough to stop them again, but Solaris would cause damage.

And Silver would have failed his divine duty. SEGA themselves would have to intervene at that point, and although he is not mortal, Silver, too, fears punishment and death.

“What about keeping them in a temple in the mortal realm? They are highly protected by the priests. We could ask Amy about using one of the temples dedicated to Thorn,” Gold offers.

“It is true that temples are the most well-guarded places in the mortal realm. Even criminals and lunatics tread lightly in such areas,” Blaze agrees. 

“Well…” Rouge whistles. Her temples are sanctuaries for thieves. She also glances at Shadow, reminding everyone that his temples are often havens for the mentally unwell and criminals, too. Their domains lend well to this, after all, and it’s a given considering what they are both patrons of.

“However, are we not still at risk of divine power?”

“There are not many other places in the mortal realm I trust,” Shadow interjects. Out of all of them except Silver himself, Shadow’s words carry the most weight. He is the god of mortals. He was also once a child of the mortal realm. This is without mentioning how much time he spends in the mortal realm, courtesy of being close with Sonic, a deity notorious for spending the vast majority of his time in the mortal realm. If Shadow believes temples are their only option, the gods surrounding him readily accept that as an immutable fact.

After moments of contemplation, Silver eventually makes the final decision. “We will keep them in one of my temples. They are rarely visited by those who would seek to claim the scepter and flame. They also do not harbor much divine power, barely any more than any other location. I will keep careful watch over the two pieces, as is my duty.”

The others share glances between each other. One by one, they all accept this outcome. Gold and Shadow return to their previous duties while Rouge and Blaze accompany Silver to the temple he has in mind. It is on an island off the coast. The mortals settling down on it call it Soleanna. Silver has no reason to reject or change the name. Though, neither does he have any reason to care about it or nurture fondness for it. All he does is accept that this temple belongs to him, and with a divine proclamation, this becomes the vault holding back the spirit of calamity from centuries past.

This should be where the story ends. And for many, many years, it is. Nothing happens to the scepter and flame for such a long time that the record of their existence becomes a fabled legend. Although Silver’s duties include preserving history, he allows for this to slip through the cracks in mortal minds. They do not need to know about it, he told himself, but perhaps he could have put in more work in keeping the mortals from fabricating lies that spiralled far beyond his control.

If he had, Silver has no doubt he would not be in this situation. He would not be standing in the ruins of Soleanna’s ducal family’s underground workshop. In a darkness hidden away from the divine eye of the sun god, the duke has committed a divine sin. Retribution has already been unleashed upon him by Omega, the divine weapon. Yet, the fruits of his sin are laid out in front of Silver, and he cannot turn his eyes away. For all his power and glory, Silver hesitates because of what he sees.

There are two figures lying on the stone slab. The first is a little girl resembling the fallen duke. Although he’s unfamiliar with the familial bonds of mortals, he is somewhat aware that she is his ‘daughter.’ Beside her, purposefully arranged to curl into her, is a hedgehog. Despite his similarity to a few of the gods who resemble hedgehogs, he is mortal. She is, too. At least, they should be, and they once were. But they are not anymore. No, now they are hosts for a power greater than either of them will ever be able to comprehend, let alone handle within their bodies.

As Silver has been told, the duke used the flame—rumored to grant eternal life—to save his sickly daughter’s life. The scepter was put into an orphaned hedgehog kidnapped from the street after it was realized that the flame would not accept anyone without its other piece. These two are now bound together. They have become Solaris’ two halves merely because they harbor the two pieces of split power.

Silver raises his paw toward the girl, starting with her merely because she’s closer. Before he can remove the flame from her unconscious form, a presence ghosts along the edges of his mind. He glances over his shoulder. Gold is not in the room with him, but he feels her in his mind. Her will rearranges his thoughts until an approximation of her voice speaks to him, “Please stop! You’ll kill them!”

“It is their fate to die,” Silver responds. Silver is also a god of prophecies. He can look into the future. However, when he does, he forces that future to be certain and unchangeable, except by an extraordinary will like the gods or exceptional mortals. Silver looks into the future of these two. The girl, Elise, should die of her illness within days. The hedgehog, Mephiles, should be beaten in an alleyway for stealing bread. While the scepter and flame could potentially change these fates—and honestly already have—it changes nothing. Even if Silver does not kill them now, the scepter and flame are unstable. These two are going to die, anyway, since the punished duke did not place the correct seal on either of them.

“It doesn’t have to be. You can place the right seal on them. I know you can.”

Silver resists the urge to sigh, a gesture he’s adopted from mortals. “Does it matter if I can or not? If I place a seal on them, there will be a caveat. Would either of them even want to live such a miserable life without even the promise of death to connect them with their fellow mortals?”

“That’s the thing about mortals, Silver. They always want to live.”

Silver wishes he didn’t know that to be true. He wishes he could call this a trick from one of his oldest friends. Unfortunately for him, Silver has been growing closer with mortals. His understanding of them is entirely lacking, but despite this, he knows Gold’s words to be true. He has never encountered a mortal who did not, beneath all their pain and suffering, wish for survival, clutching desperately on the hope of having better tomorrows. As the god of time, Silver has always done his best to give mortals as much of that—time—as possible. 

So, without any response, Silver takes a step back. He feels Gold’s victorious feelings beat in tandem with his heart seconds before her presence disappears from his mind. It is much longer than a few seconds where Silver merely waits for the two children to rouse from the depths of their slumber after they were made the unwitting sacrifices in this ritual meant to save one life and actually condemning two.

Elise sits on the edge of the stone slab, her legs hanging over the side. Her eyes remind Silver of the ocean in their coloration, but instead of darkness, he only finds a destructive light in their depths. Mephiles, in contrast, is the one who harbors the darkness inside of his soul. He hides himself behind Elise, tilting his head around her shoulder. They both stare at Silver, perhaps knowing he is a god despite him dialing back his divine power. Silver regards them both carefully. “Elise, Mephiles… You have both been subjected to great cruelty. The two halves of an ancient spirit of calamity, Solaris, have been put into your bodies. This cannot be undone. It leaves you both with only two options. You can either die, or you can accept these halves. Doing so will require an unbreakable curse to be put on you. It will also grant you immortality and supernatural gifts. This choice is yours. I will do as you request.”

Elise and Mephiles turn toward one another. Either because they are bonded by the two halves of Solaris or because they spent time together when they were waiting for this ritual to begin, a silent conversation passes between them. Silver sees conflict in their features. It takes a long time for them to come to a decision. When they turn to Silver, they both nod—proving to Silver once again what mortals will always choose.

Silver steps toward them. He finishes the seal the duke tried putting on them. “Elise, you must never shed a tear. Mephiles, you must never use your voice. If you follow these commands, the light and the darkness will remain trapped within you, preserving your lives and damning your humanity.”

Chapter Text

Heat intertwines with her fingers, wrapping around each one with the delicacy of ribbons. It comes from the golden flame hovering above her palms. She cradles the fire closer to her, letting the heat and light spread across her frontside. She can feel it caressing her cheeks, illuminating her eyes, and enveloping her heart. The sensation of heat fills her from her exterior to her core, but it is soothing and empowering rather than painful. It would destroy any other, but she has adapted. She has harnessed it. She has learned from the goddess of fire herself. The Flames of Disaster are her calling and duty and weapon, and she will use them well. 

The flame’s influence continues spreading. The tip of her short red hair shifts into shades of gold then yellow then orange, each layer glowing less than the last. From the red strands, obsidian horns shoot out and curl over her face. Her skin begins to crack, fracturing further and further into flesh rapidly becoming stone. Instead of blood, lava bubbles to the surface, not dripping out but remaining constant. Around her shoulders, back, and calves, the stone juts out into cascading armor. It does not glow itself, but it reflects the flames with a resolve that creates the illusion of incandescence. 

She lowers her hands, letting them fall to her side. The lava is bright enough to prevent her appendages from being lost in the darkness whirling around her as a chaotic mass. The flame she was governing pulsates, flickering in place with a sudden ferocity. With enough concentration, she forces it to explode outward. A sphere of translucent gold-orange light surrounds her as she steps out of the bubble of darkness into the light of day. The sun pales in comparison to her at the moment, but she dares not make such an utterance. She does not want to invoke the wrath of the god of the day (for that is his divine eye that watches over them all).

All she wants is to defeat her opponent. She stares at him now. He’s across the field from her. His body has been transformed into crystals. They’re dim and dull coloration makes it look like they were mists frozen in solid ice. She knows from experience that they are sturdier than ice. They will not fracture so easily. If she can even get a chance to strike them since the one whose body has been remade in a stronger image is a trickster. 

There is no evident sign that she’s about to move. All Elise does is push off her toes, cracking the earth and burning the grass beneath her obsidian boots. She’s little more than a spark dancing on the breeze. She reaches her opponent in record time. She prepares a flaming fist to strike them. Her knuckles do not brush against crystal, however. They immediately slice through black smoke. Her fist continues until it hits the ground, bringing her to her knees right beside it. She looks over her shoulder with piercing, green eyes (a mimicry of his eyes, if she recalls correctly).

She eventually finds her opponent. Mephiles has merely teleported away. He will continue to teleport. He knows that even one hit from her will render him immoble for a long while. She huffs, and the tips of her hair flickers restlessly because of the gust. She pushes her hair away from her face, letting the tips of her lava-and-stone fingers brush against her horns. 

Elise has limited options. Giving up is one, but she refuses to do that. Tiring Mephiles out is another, though she is often the one to lose the war of attrition against him. If she thought she could get away with tricking him, she would, but his intelligence surpasses her since has the memories of Solaris. Brute force is her only option. She will continue trying, weathering through any storm and scheme he may cast her way.

Elise closes her fingers into fists. The minute her body tenses, red-gold flames rise up to surround her eyes in the memory of a mask. She runs forward at a great speed. She gets close to Mephiles again. Her kick, however, goes straight through the darkness again. Her entire body turns with it. When she plants her foot back on the ground, she’s already throwing another punch. Fire shoots out of her knuckles this time. They nearly hit Mephiles, but he sidesteps them at the last moment. He remains distracted with the sputtering, so Elise flickers her fingers up. A pyre shoots up from the ground, swallowing Mephiles whole. From the vibrating air and smoke, a spear made from crystals flings toward Elise. She raises her forearm, letting the spearpoint dig into lava and stone. She is about to steal the spear when Mephiles teleports in front of her. He grabs the spear, twisting it around with practiced ease. He tries striking her multiple times with it. Elise doesn’t dodge so much as bats every attempt away, leveraging her superior strength against his gifted spearmanship.

Unwilling to continue with a losing battle, Mephiles flies away. Elise bends her knees. While she cannot fly, she’s able to jump high and long enough to grab onto Mephiles. She tackles him. A second before they are set to hit the earth, Mephiles teleports away. Elise rolls forward when she lands alone. She locks eyes with Mephiles. Each of them prepare their next attack, and in an instant, they are running toward each other.

Before they can collide with each other, they are frozen in place. Elise’s eyes flick to the parts of her body in her field of vision. A cyan silhouette surrounds them. The same cyan coloration appears around Mephiles. Elise’s eyes turn to the side. A white hedgehog lowers himself from the sky. He steps onto the ground. He snaps his fingers, causing Elise and Mephiles to fall onto the ground. He eyes them both expectantly. He doesn’t need to, though, because they automatically revert to their mortal forms.

The stone snaps back together to hide the lava, and it reverts back to pale skin. The horns retreat back into Elise’s skull. Her hair stops flickering with sparks, landing in damp sweat against her neck. Her eyes shift back into their classic, boundless blue. Her armor transforms into a white tunic over red pants. Likewise, Mephiles beside her turns the crystals back into black fur and teal highlights. His eyes—once as sickeningly green as hers—goes back to being gray.

“Silver!” Elise chirps merrily.

The god of time regards her carefully. When he looks over at Mephiles, the dark hedgehog is also showing signs of being happy, even if it isn’t as prominent as it is for Elise. Silver gestures between them and the random environment around them that became a battlefield. “What was going on here?”

“We were training,” Elise explains. They train from time to time. It is good for keeping their skills as calamity hunters sharp, and it also lets them bond.

Mephiles snaps his fingers to show that he’s remembered something. Silver and Elise turn their attention to him. Mephiles rises to his feet. He barely gets a foot away before Elise is scrambling after him. She nearly tackles him to the ground, but he weaves out of her potential hold. He glances over his shoulder at her. Elise tries grabbing onto him again. This time, she adds, “I’m the one who caught it! I should be the one to show him!”

Mephiles, obviously, doesn’t answer. She doubts he would even if he could, though, primarily because of the expression he shoots her way. 

They are near the edge of the clearing when Silver decides to join them. “I do not understand what is happening right now.”

“I caught a calamity!” Elise tells him, only to get elbowed so hard in the stomach that she spits up and hunches forward. When she glares at Mephiles, he smirks at her. Elise summons flame to her fist to attack him. 

She’s stopped when Silver gets between them. “Very well. Show me this calamity you have caught.”

Elise and Mephiles put their fighting aside to show Silver the calamity they caught. It wasn’t that difficult. The spirit was harassing people in a local village. The prayers of the people attracted the hunters’ attention. They came quickly to handle the spirit of calamity. It is still one in its infancy stages for it has not amassed much power, but its insistence on using that power to harm mortals is what gave Elise and Mephiles the right and responsibility to capture it. Now, they are presenting it to Silver. 

“Very good. Continue on this path you have chosen,” The god of time nods solemnly. He reaches his paws up to pat the top of their heads. This is a gesture he learned from mortals, though he still doesn’t completely understand it. Nevertheless, neither Mephiles nor Elise has mentioned how awkward the motion is because they enjoy the attention. Mephiles never had anyone, and Elise has lost everyone. All they have is each other and Silver, so the children that will always exist inside of them adores the familial bond. At least, that’s what Elise thinks is happening. Maybe Mephiles hasn’t said anything because he doesn’t have any particular feelings about it (or because he can’t talk—though he could’ve sent his feelings to Elise through their bond).

“Is there a reason you came?” Elise asks Silver. He leaves them alone for the most part. He only comes down when he wants to spend time with them or when they’ve caught a particularly powerful calamity that they can’t dispose of themselves. She’s hoping it’s the former, but Silver has a strange look on his face.

“Yes. I have come to seek your counsel,” Silver answers. Mephiles and Elise share a look. Mephiles gestures for Silver to continue. The god of time hums to himself. “The lord of day has brought a mortal into the divine realm. As I am unfamiliar with mortals, I thought it wise to seek advice from the two of you. Although you are not mortal now, you once were and you interact with mortals quite often.”

Mephiles and Elise lock eyes. A silent conversation passes between them through the bond between the Flames of Disaster and the Darkness. After their initial shock and confusion over a mortal being brought to the divine realm (softened only by the fact that Sonic did this and he’s a god well-known for his love of mortals), they try to figure out what advice to give. There’s analogies to get through to Silver how fragile mortals are. There are facts about the emotional responses of mortals. There are ideologies that a god may possess yet a mortal would never accept.

In the end, however, they both decide to smile at Silver. Elise raises her hand to touch his shoulder, squeezing it comfortingly. “There is a lot we could share about mortals. It honestly depends on the kind of mortal you’re interacting with and what kind of relationship you want with them. But why don’t you try to see what kind of bond you’ll have with them on your own? You were the one to tell us knowledge is acquired best through experience.”

Silver smiles at them. “I see. If that is your insight, I will heed it well. Thank you.” They return his smile. Silver turns away. Before he leaves, he points at them both. “Take care of that spirit, and please, stop being so destructive when you spar.”

“Yes, Silver,” Elise nods. Mephiles echoes the sentiment in her head. Silver smiles at them again before disappearing back to the divine realm.

Elise glares at Mephiles from the corner of her eye. “Are you going to talk about how you tried stealing my catch?” Elise gets elbowed in the stomach again. As she flops onto the ground, she realizes what she said. She lifts her finger above her hunched head. “I probably deserved that one.”