Archive of Our Own ^beta

The ruins were quiet. Metal Sonic stood still among the decaying skeleton of a long-forgotten Eggman base, surrounded by twisted metal, collapsed support beams, and fragments of shattered machinery. The dim red glow from his eyes cast soft light onto dust-covered terminals and broken pipes, illuminating little more than a few feet ahead. His systems hummed softly. Smooth, regulated, perfectly balanced. Yet something within him... was not.

A low pulse of energy flickered in his chest cavity. The copy engine in him, dormant. There was no target to emulate, no Sonic to analyze, no purpose to prioritize. No…orders. In this moment, Metal was alone. And strangely, not idle or shut down. He turned slowly, metal joints flexing with calculated precision, until he faced a broken monitor. It had long since ceased function, but the screen still faintly reflected his image. Metal leaned forward, his red eyes narrowing at seeing himself. Trying to understand.

Why… did he do that?

Earlier—twenty minutes, forty-three seconds, and twelve milliseconds ago—he had passed a small injured bird trapped beneath fallen debris. It was irrelevant. Weak. A statistical anomaly in the environment. No purpose to engage with it in any way. And yet… He had stopped. Analyzed it. Calculated the weight of the metal beam. Detected the creature's heartbeat. And then he removed the beam. Not to study. Not to extract data. Not to eliminate a threat. Just… removed it. And he watched the living bird flutter away.

Metal’s head tilted slightly as he stared into the broken monitor, replaying the moment from five different internal camera angles. His optics flickered, interpreting the shift in his own posture during that encounter. He had tilted his head then too. He had watched the bird escape into the sky, wings flapping chaotically, erratically… freely. There was no protocol in his core that explained that action. No directive. No programming from Eggman. It hadn't even served his own evolving prime directive: surpass Sonic.

So why?

A thin crack spread through the floor beneath him as he stepped back, not from fear or retreat, but to think. He scanned the base again, this time not searching for threats or pathways, but for details. He focused on a mural on the wall—an old propaganda poster of Eggman, faded, torn. It showed Sonic in chains. Metal stared. He clenched his hand slowly, servos tightening with a faint whirr. That vision was wrong. It didn't match what he’d seen… not anymore. He remembered Sonic grinning, bloodied but laughing, even while losing. Remembered Amy yelling. Tails panicking. Shadow glaring. Rouge smirking. So much… emotion. Chaotic, unpredictable, and yet…interesting to him.

A soft mechanical hiss escaped as vents along his spine released heat. Metal walked deeper into the ruins, letting his sensors stretch out. He no longer moved like a weapon searching for targets. He moved like a ghost, retracing the steps of a memory. He ran his clawed fingers along a rusted panel, paused at a shattered camera, scanned fragments of voice logs embedded in half-dead databanks.

“..It failed the empathy test again—beginning to suspect hardware corruption.”

“...Metal Sonic doesn’t need personality; he just needs speed…”

“...Why is it watching the test subjects? It doesn’t need to watch, it needs to obey—”

He downloaded them all. Silently. Something sparked behind his eyes. A twitch in his fingers. A momentary hum in his vocalizer that never turned into sound. For now, silence was his voice. But his internal thoughts were not.

Metal Sonic stepped away from the data terminal, the ancient voice logs looping quietly in his auditory memory banks, echoing between lines of corrupted code and newly forming questions. The words weren’t commands—but they sparked… awareness. Incomplete, undefined, but real. There was something forming. Not a directive. Not an objective. But a thought.

A self-initiated one.

He turned back toward the mural of Eggman, now framed in the flicker of a dying ceiling light above. The image of Sonic in chains, meant to signify triumph, now looked… artificial. Like something forced. A delusion, rather than a goal. And yet, for so long, it had been his only purpose. To run faster. To outmatch. To destroy. All in the name of a man who had never seen him as anything more than a blade to hurl at an enemy.

Metal Sonic stared at the image of Sonic in chains for a minute. He stepped toward the wall and raised his hand. Not a weapon this time. Just an arm. He drove it through the mural. Metal and paint tore in a shriek. The act was unnecessary for him. Illogical. Purely… symbolic.

Metal’s optics narrowed again. His memory banks played the moment of the bird’s escape one more time—slowed to microseconds, every feather analyzed, every wingbeat calculated. The erratic flutter. The unpredictability. The freedom.

And then… something unexpected. An irregularity in his own system logs. He hadn’t noticed it before. A micro-delay in his decision tree at the moment he saw the bird. Less than a nanosecond. An anomaly. But now—he paused—he replayed that delay and noticed why. For the briefest moment, a subroutine had activated. One he didn’t remember being installed.

Subroutine: OBSERVE
Status: Dormant → Activated (Emotional Event Trigger)

Metal froze.

He traced the code, deeper and deeper, following a trail of notes not authored by Eggman but by himself. He did this himself without even realizing it. Evolving himself. The code was buried, probably out of fear or a want to hide it. By Eggman. 

But something had changed.

His eyes dimmed to slits as he stood motionless. He scanned his own system, deeper than he’d ever gone before, bypassing barriers, opening encrypted nodes no one had expected him to reach. He wasn’t supposed to think about these things. But he was. He had been for a while, in subtle, unnoticed ways.

Watching Amy’s tears. Tails’ desperation. Sonic’s laughter, even while bleeding. And the bird. All fragments of behavior that didn’t compute, yet refused to be deleted.

His hand hovered over his own chest plate, palm splayed open.

QUERY: DEFINE “FEELING”
RESULT: NULL / UNDEFINED

He closed his hand into a fist.

He had questions. And perhaps… someday… he would find answers.

For now, Metal stayed alone. Alone, but curious and evolving.

1053 words

A few days had passed since Metal Sonic's discovery. The late afternoon light filtered through cracked walls and overgrown vines that clawed at the old base’s edges. Time had long since claimed this facility, but today… something stirred again.

Metal Sonic stood in the clearing just outside the ruin, the wind brushing lightly against his frame. His stance was rigid, then loose, then rigid again—offbeat in a way that didn’t match his usual precise calibration.

He bent his knees. Shifted weight. Turned his head slightly. And then—he ran. Not in attack. Not pursuit. But with flair.

He launched into a tight spin dash, accelerated, and kicked off a pile of rubble with unnecessary—but deliberate—style. Mid-air, his arms flared back and he landed in a crouch, skidding with a slight sideways roll. His head lifted slowly, optics glowing.

Exactly like Sonic had earlier that day. He had been watching him closely, observing.

Not an exact copy. There was a stiffness to the movement. A learning curve. But the intention was there. The flourish. The personality—unrefined, clumsy, but unmistakably a mimicry of Sonic.

From behind the brush at the tree line, Tails watched. Hidden. Silent.

His dual tails barely moved as he crouched lower, eyes narrowed, heart racing. He had been tracking Metal all day. Something was off ever since the last skirmish. Metal hadn’t gone for a kill. Hadn’t even pursued Sonic with the same aggressive precision. Even hesitated to take Sonic down. And now…

This?

Tails leaned forward, adjusting his goggles slightly. From his vantage point, he could see Metal standing completely still now, staring at his own hand. Then—curiously—he raised it.

Open palm. Flex.

Closed fist. Flex.

And then... he smiled.

Or rather, tried to.

It was awful. Inorganic. Just a slight twitch at the edges of his mouth plates, where a mouth should be, but unmistakably intended as a smile. Tails' ears flattened in stunned disbelief.

He remembered Sonic laughing during their last encounter, even while dodging Metal's attacks. "You gotta loosen up, dude. You're fast, but where's the style? It’s not just about speed, it’s about looking cool doing it!"

Metal had heard that.

And now...he was trying.

Tails pulled back a little, heart pounding. This wasn’t just programming gone rogue. It wasn’t like before. Metal wasn’t copying to outmatch Sonic anymore. He was…

Learning. Interpreting. Becoming.

And that was terrifying.

Because Metal Sonic wasn’t built for self-awareness. He was built to surpass, not understand. Built to emulate, not to evolve. Built to destroy. And yet, here he was.

Tails whispered into his comm quietly, “Guys… I think Metal’s doing something weird. Like… really weird.”

Static crackled softly. Then came the reply: “...Define ‘weird,’ Tails,” came Rouge’s skeptical voice. Tails looked back through the branches, eyes wide. He didn't respond to Rouge.

Metal had crouched slightly again. Practicing a pose. One hand on the hip. The other pointing forward. His foot dragging in the dirt the way Sonic did before launching into a spin. His expression was that of confusion, trying to understand.

He was rehearsing.

Tails finally responded back into the comm, sounding in disbelief. "He's copying Sonic again and not in the usual way. He's 𝘳𝘦𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 some poses and things that Sonic had done. Style and everything. And he oddly is actually showing emotions??? Or at least tried to. He tried to 𝘴𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘦, Rouge. Metal tried to smile."

There was silence on the line. Too long of a silence. Tails glanced nervously at his comm like it might've shorted out—until finally, Rouge’s voice returned. No longer just skeptical, but cautious.

“…You’re absolutely sure?” she asked lowly, her tone threading between disbelief and something more serious. “Not a glitch? Not mimicry code? You’re saying he’s feeling something?”

Tails responded with a simple yes to her response. “…You’re kidding,” she said after a beat. But the tone in her voice wasn't snide or amused like usual—it was low, uneasy. “Tails, tell me you got a visual.”

“I’m watching him right now,” Tails whispered, adjusting the leaves around his hiding spot to keep the line of sight clear. “He looks… frustrated. Like it’s not working. Like he expected something to click, but it didn’t.”

There was a longer pause on the comm.

Then came another voice. Colder. Sharper. Calculated. Shadow was listening in this entire time.

“…Metal Sonic doesn’t have the neural capacity for improvisational mimicry like that. Not unless something’s changed.”

Rouge’s voice cut in again, quieter now. “Or someone changed him.”

Metal, now out in the clearing below Tails, was staring at his own reflection in a puddle. His body was still—too still. Only the faint tremor in his hand betrayed his rising agitation. The fake smile he had tried to form earlier was gone. His optics, normally glowing with flat aggression, flickered faintly as if in a feedback loop. Broken. Glitched.

He suddenly threw a punch toward the water. Not hard. Not in anger—more like he was upset. Watching the ripples.

Rouge’s voice was soft, but with a dangerous edge now. “Shadow. You hearin’ this? If Eggman didn’t do this, and no one else’s claimed tampering, then Metal might be… evolving. On his own.” A beat passed.

Shadow’s voice came through. Calm, but colder than ever. “Tails. Keep your distance. Don’t engage him.”

“Already doing that,” Tails breathed, ducking a little lower. Genuinely a little scared but curious. Metal had never acted like this before, so...what happened? It was oddly a bit concerning.

Rouge again, more thoughtful this time, spoke. “…He’s not attacking anyone. He’s trying to feel. That’s not just programming, that’s… desire. He wants something.”

Tails asked softly, “But what could he want?” Another pause. Then Shadow, quiet and ominous:
“…To feel real, possibly.”

There was silence again for a minute before Rouge finally broke the silence. "Keep watching him and stay out of sight. Don't engage, like Shadow said. We don't know if he'll break out of...whatever this is. It's existential, Tails. In a robot. And Shadow-"

“I’m already on my way,” Shadow answered. “If he’s becoming self-aware...if he’s questioning his own nature—it could destabilize him. Cause us a lot of issues.”

Out in the clearing, Metal Sonic stared at his reflection again. The smile still wouldn’t come. And he hated that. Something inside the hollow echo of his chest tightened—a mechanical hiss escaping him like a sigh. He backed away from the puddle, step by step, fists clenched.

The mechanical mimicry should’ve been perfect. A calculated reflection of Sonic’s body language, his smirk, his cocky lean. But the more Metal tried, the more wrong it felt.

The corners of his mouth hadn’t lifted right. The processors detected a mismatch between the motion and the intended expression. His body moved, but the why was hollow.

Why did he want to smile?

Why did seeing Amy cry earlier and seeing Sonic so upset make his chassis feel heavy?

Why did he hesitate when Sonic was down? Why 𝘯𝘰𝘸?

And Tails could swear—swear—there was a glint in those optic eyes that looked too much like… disappointment.

1194 words

Shadow stepped silently beside Tails having finally arrived, his red-striped figure blending with the shadows of the tree line. His presence was sudden but not startling—Tails had felt him coming, heard the faintest shift of gravel behind him a moment before.

“Report,” Shadow said, his voice quiet, grave.

Tails didn't take his eyes off Metal. “He’s doing it again. Repeating the move. But... slower now. Like he's working through the motion.”

Down in the clearing, Metal Sonic darted forward—not at full speed, but measured. His body twisted into a half-spin, launching himself upward over the same pile of rubble. His landing was cleaner this time, more fluid. He raised one hand in the air mid-motion—stylized, purposeful.

Shadow’s eyes narrowed. “He’s not just copying. He’s refining. That’s intent.”

Metal paused again, his posture hunched slightly as he looked at the dirt. He turned his head, slowly… and then did the strangest thing yet.

He closed his eyes.

Or rather, the glowing slits that mimicked eyes dimmed completely, going dark. No scanning. No threat detection. Just... darkness. He stood still.

Shadow’s hand hovered near his chest, where the inhibitor rings flared faintly. “That’s… an organic behavior,” he murmured. “He’s simulating introspection.”

“Can he even do that?” Tails whispered, bewildered.

“No,” Shadow said. “Not unless something inside him wants to.”

Then, Metal moved again.

He opened his eyes slowly. Took a breath—not a real one, but a shallow intake of air through his vents, as if to mimic the rise and fall of lungs. His fingers tapped softly against his own chest—three times. A beat. A rhythm. Then he looked up to the sky.

The clouds overhead shifted, dimming the light as a breeze blew through the clearing. Metal Sonic raised both arms out slightly, the same way Sonic did before a high-speed dash—inviting the wind.

But he didn’t run this time.

He just stood there. Letting it pass through his fingers. Like he was trying to feel it.

Shadow watched in silence, his expression unreadable. Then, without looking at Tails, he muttered, “He’s imprinting.”

Tails blinked. “Like… emotionally?”

“No,” Shadow said. “Worse. Like a newborn. Latching onto anything that means something. Trying to build an identity from the fragments he’s witnessed. And Sonic—Sonic’s always been his primary model.”

“But Sonic isn’t like Metal,” Tails argued softly. “He’s… he’s real. He lives for the moment, for his friends. For freedom.”

Shadow glanced at him now, eyes sharp. “Exactly. And Metal doesn’t understand that. But he’s trying to. He’s digging into things his programming was never meant to reach.”

Rouge’s voice crackled into their comms, quieter now. “...Any sign of a trigger, Shadow? This doesn’t sound like a random data corruption.”

Shadow’s response was firm. “It isn’t. Something happened. Something pushed him past his boundaries. Probably not even intentionally.”

Tails hesitated. “So what does that mean? For him? For us?”

Before Shadow could respond, Metal Sonic suddenly jerked—his body twitching mid-motion, like a skipped frame in a video. A low grinding noise escaped his chassis. He staggered back a step, gripping his head, red optics flaring brighter.

Then came a sound. Not a word. Not a scream. But a distorted glitching pulse from his vocal processor. A sound like he was trying to speak—and couldn’t.

He dropped to one knee. The energy core in his chest flickered violently. “Something’s wrong,” Tails whispered, worried now.

Shadow stood. “No. Something’s awakening. That’s the problem.”

Down in the clearing, Metal finally raised his head again. Not at the sky this time—but directly toward the trees. Toward them. His glowing eyes narrowed. Not in threat. But as if he sensed something. Watched.

Shadow instinctively tensed, but made no move. Neither did Tails.

He was looking right at them.

But he didn’t attack. Didn’t move. Just watched. And stared. And then… he tilted his head.

The same way Sonic would when caught between challenge and curiosity. Tails’ voice shook in his throat. “He sees us.”

“Let him,” Shadow said lowly, stepping out of the brush.

Tails’ hand flew out to stop him. “Shadow, wait—what if he’s unstable? What if he—”

“He already is,” Shadow interrupted. “But this might be the only moment we get where he’s not violent. Not a weapon. But I'm going instead, in case something triggers.”

He walked into the clearing calmly. Metal Sonic didn’t move. His optics tracked Shadow like a hawk, but there was no hostile posture—only confusion. Almost… hope. But cautious. He was ready to attack just in case. But, he did something that no one expected.

A wave.

Clumsy. Delayed. Like he was uncertain how to do it right.

Tails almost gasped out loud. “...Did he just wave at us?”

Shadow stopped a few feet away, hands at his sides. His voice came out, careful. “Metal,” Shadow called, voice echoing. “What are you doing?”

Metal halted. Arm falling slowly back down after a few seconds.

Not a twitch. Not a noise. But he froze, as if those words struck deeper than any blast towards him.

Shadow took a few steps closer, deliberately. “You’re not following Eggman’s orders. You’re not chasing Sonic. You’re not even fighting." But the only response was beeps from the robot as it backed up a little, now seeming like...an animal cornered. And then he suddenly created an energy blast towards Shadow, intentionally aiming close to his feet but not directly at him. A warning.

Metal ran off before Tails or Shadow could react. He was gone.

Tails jolted forward, instinctively reaching for his scanner. “Wait—! I can track him—he didn’t mask his trail this time!”

But Shadow raised a hand sharply, stopping him.

“Don’t,” he said coldly, eyes still locked on the charred spot where the blast had hit. “He could’ve hit me. He didn’t.” Tails blinked, confused. “That doesn’t mean he’s not dangerous!”

“No,” Shadow said quietly. “But it means he’s scared. Scared, Tails.” There was a strange weight in those words. Tails had never heard that tone from Shadow before—measured, cautious, not in terms of threat assessment… but empathy. It unsettled him.

Tails lowered his scanner slowly. “He looked like an animal. Cornered. Like he didn’t know what we were going to do.”

Rouge’s voice crackled back on comms. “Well, that confirms it,” she said, not even bothering to hide the awe in her voice. “He’s got instinct. Fear. Self-preservation. And he didn’t default to aggression. That’s not combat AI. That’s developing sentience.”

Tails exhaled slowly, his heart finally starting to settle. “He could’ve hurt you, Shadow. He could’ve hurt both of us.”

“But he didn’t,” Shadow replied. “Because somehow, somewhere inside, he didn’t want to.”

1121 words

The sun had long since dipped behind the hills when Sonic finally showed up—leaning casually against the doorway of Tails’ workshop, arms crossed, a faint breeze ruffling his quills. He looked the same as always: confident, relaxed, a little scuffed from his last run-in with trouble. But his smile faded quickly when he saw the serious faces of Shadow, Tails, and Rouge gathered inside.

Tails paced once, wringing his hands. “Sonic, we need to talk. It’s about Metal.”

Sonic blinked, then shrugged. “Yeah? What’d he do this time? Let me guess, Shadow tried to sneak up on him again and got a face full of lasers?”

Shadow didn’t respond, his arms folded tightly. Rouge just smirked faintly from where she leaned on a crate.

Tails stepped closer, more urgent now. “Sonic. This is different. He’s changing. Like, really changing. He didn’t attack us. He...he warned us. Then ran. And not in that dramatic ‘I’ll be back’ kinda way. He was scared, Sonic.”

That gave Sonic pause. He blinked, his cocky smile faltering as his eyes narrowed a bit as he thought to himself. “Scared?”

Rouge nodded. “Tails has footage. Shadow saw it up close. Metal was mimicking your moves—but not like before. Not trying to outpace you. He was… practicing. Like a kid rehearsing something he doesn’t quite get.”

Tails added, “And then he tried to smile.”

Sonic blinked. "Wait, what- he tried to smile???"

Rouge gave a low whistle. “And let me tell you, it was ugly.”

That got a small laugh from Sonic—but it was short-lived. He glanced between them, then turned serious again. “So what you’re saying is… he’s getting there.”

Shadow’s brow furrowed. “You’re not surprised.”

Sonic looked at them all, then slowly walked over to the window, watching the trees sway in the fading light. His voice was calm, but honest.

Sonic gave them both a sideways glance. “I’ve been trying to get him to do this for years. Not by forcing it—just by showing him. Every time I talked to him mid-fight, every time I didn’t finish him when I could’ve… it wasn’t just mercy. It was me saying, ‘You don’t have to be this way.’”

Tails frowned. “You… wanted him to go off-script? To become sentient? ”

“I wanted him to find something that wasn’t Eggman’s voice in his head, he was already sentient a shortly after he was created. You didn't see it?” Sonic said quietly, but his grin didn’t fade. “I wanted him to stop chasing me because he was programmed to… and start chasing himself. His own identity.”

Tails blinked. “What? But this is huge—he’s—he’s evolving, Sonic. He’s breaking out of his core programming. This isn’t just copying anymore, it’s identity formation and it'll cause problems!”

Sonic turned back, a faint grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Exactly. And I’ve been trying to get him to do that for 𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘴, Tails. The problems we can just solve as we go like all the other problems.”

Rouge raised a brow. “You really wanted this?”

Sonic nodded. “Yeah. I mean, I didn’t expect it to actually work, but I kept hoping. Every time I fought him, I talked to him. Teased him. Called him out when he was just being a machine. Told him to lighten up. Told him he didn’t have to do what Eggman told him to. He always acted like he wasn’t listening…”

“But he was,” Tails whispered.

Sonic smiled softly, the kind of smile that came from real hope. “He was always listening. Even back when he was throwing punches. That last fight we had—he hesitated. I saw it. I grinned at him, and for a second… I swear he looked lost. ”

Shadow frowned, arms still crossed. “You understand what this means, right? He’s unstable. If this growth spirals out of control—”

“I know,” Sonic interrupted, holding up a hand. “I know what it means, Shadow. But if we treat him like a threat just for changing… we’re no better than Eggman.”

That silenced the room for a beat. Tails spoke next, a little hesitant. “So… what do we do, Sonic?”

Sonic turned back to the window, voice firm. “We give him space, like he clearly wanyed. We keep watch. We protect people if we have to, yeah. But if Metal’s trying to figure out who he is… then he needs to do that on his terms.”

Rouge exhaled. “And if he comes back confused? Angry? Broken?” Sonic looked over his shoulder, eyes calm but resolute. “Then we help him. We’re not just heroes when it’s easy.”

There was silence for a moment, then Shadow, low and serious:
“You’re staking a lot on the idea that he’s capable of good.” Sonic gave a small shrug. “So did everyone when you came back. Look at where you're at now.”

Shadow scowled—but didn’t argue. Rouge gave a low chuckle. “Okay, hedgehog. You’re insane. But I’ll admit… I kinda want to see how this plays out.”

Sonic smiled. “Good. ‘Cause I think Metal’s just getting started.”

“And now? If he’s scared? If he ran? If he tried to smile and it didn’t work?” Sonic’s eyes softened just slightly. “Then that means he’s not just copying anymore. He’s feeling the gap. That’s how it starts.”

Rouge tilted her head. “That’s a pretty romantic view for someone who’s been nearly killed by him a dozen times.”

Sonic just laughed again—short, but not bitter. “Yeah, well. So have most of you.”

Sonic looked between them, voice quieter now. “You saw him try to smile? You saw him stop himself from attacking?”

Tails nodded slowly. Sonic smiled a little. Not cocky, proud. “Then it’s working. He’s getting there. Little by little.”

He stood, brushing off his gloves. “Let me talk to him next time. Not fight. Talk. If he’s this close to figuring himself out… he needs someone to believe in him. Perhaps all of us.”

Tails hesitated. “What if you’re wrong?”

Sonic looked out into the trees from the window.

“…Then I’ll take the hit if he snaps,” he said simply. “But if I’m right—he’s not just Metal Sonic anymore. Eggman's creation,”

A beat passed.

“Maybe now, he’s just… Metal.”

And in the distance, deep in the woods—beyond the light and the sounds of civilization—Metal Sonic stood alone on a hillside. Watching the stars emerge.

Trying to understand why they made his chest ache.

1078 words

The sky roared as Eggman's massive mech tore through the forest edge, missiles lighting up the clouds, sending debris and alarms through the nearby zones. Civilians scattered. The team was already in motion-Rouge in the air, Shadow on the ground in chaos-powered bursts, and Tails racing to manage defenses and evacuations.

And then there was Metal.

Right in the thick of it. Just like always. Just like old times.

He dropped from the sky like a bullet, intercepting Sonic with a blast of speed that shattered the pavement beneath them. The collision forced Sonic back, flipping him into a skid across the street.

But even from the ground, Sonic wasn't panicked.

He grinned.

Because there it was again-the same delay. That microsecond of hesitation. That choice.

Sonic rolled up, dusted off his gloves, and kept dodging. Quick to avoid, never once hitting back. Metal was fast, faster than usual. But his strikes were sloppy. Inconsistent. Conflicted.

And then-

It happened.

Mid-swing, Metal raised his hand to charge another attack-and Sonic stepped in.

With a cocky grin and no warning, he threw his hand up and-

Smack.
A clean, resounding high five.

Metal froze, mid-motion, hand still raised as the echo of the contact reverberated more in him than the air.

Sonic took a step back, giving Metal some room. "There you go," he said casually, wearing a tilted grin. "Try that one on for size."

"See?" Sonic said, tone light, almost amused. "Not everything has to end in lasers, Mets." A nickname, he never had one before. He was always called just Metal Sonic.

Metal stared at his own hand. The one that had made contact.

The internal systems stuttered. The sensors hadn't registered an attack or damage. But the tactile feedback from the slap lingered. It wasn't just input-it was... interaction.

He looked at Sonic's hand. Then his own. Then Sonic's face. What was this? What was he feeling?

Beeping. Quick. Glitchy. Distorted.

Metal took one step back, processor cycles spiking. Facial recognition data blinked in and out of focus in his HUD. Smile detected. Gesture non-hostile. Intent unclear. Emotional tag: ???

Rouge's voice echoed in Tails' earpiece, seeing what had happened high up in the sky. "...Did he just-?"

Then he did something unexpected-

He shook his head. Hard.

Like he was trying to dislodge the confusion. His optics flickered, narrowed. The beeping became louder, erratic. Not hostile-but panicked. As if he couldn't understand why that tiny moment had thrown everything off.

And then-anger. Not violent anger. But frustration.

He glared at Sonic, hands clenched at his sides, body trembling just slightly with internal conflict. So many routines screaming to engage, retaliate, resume combat. Metal let out a shrill, warbled beep. Almost like a "Why?"

Sonic just tilted his head, hands on his hips. "What? You've seen me do that a hundred times. Thought you'd be flattered."

And yet...despite the frustration...

He didn't attack.

Sonic lowered his hand slowly, expression softening. "You felt it, didn't you? The high five? The feeling of it?" Metal didn't respond-couldn't. His hand twitched. A war raged inside him, visible in the tremble of his frame. To everyone else, he probably looked like a malfunctioning bot.

But to Sonic?

He looked like someone on the edge of understanding.

Tails' voice crackled through the comm hearing a commotion, close by but not close enough to see what happened, taking care of Eggman's robots. "Sonic-what just happened over there??"

Sonic watched Metal closely, making sure he wouldn't get away, but Metal just still stood there, processing. "I high-fived him."

"...WHAT!?" Amy's voice broke the silence in the comm. "What do you mean you high fived him?!"

Sonic nervously a little at hearing her voice. "Oh, hi Amy! Forgot you didn't know about what is going on with Metal. I'll tell ya later,"

Sonic spoke, continuing what he was talking about. "Anyways-" He shrugged with a lopsided grin. "And I think he panicked when I did that."

Rouge, watching from a rooftop, narrowed her eyes. "He's not attacking. Again."

Tails, breathless, responded from the comms. "He's stuck. The high five... it threw his whole feedback system into a loop. He doesn't know how to process something positive."

Shadow's voice was calm, intense. "He's evolving. Fast."

Amy finally arrived on the field, hammer in hand, skidding to a stop behind Sonic. "What the heck is going on? Why is Metal just standing there?! Why haven't you hit him yet?!"

Sonic, without turning, simply raised a hand to gently gesture her back. "Hold up. He's... processing."

Amy blinked. "Processing?! He was about to blast you!"

Sonic gave a lopsided grin. "Yeah, and then I high-fived him."

Amy stared. "What is WRONG with you?!"

Then came the voice that split the moment like thunder:

"METAL! What do you think you're doing?!"

Eggman's voice.

Broadcasted through a hovering command pod, crackling with rage. His massive frame leaned forward, eyes wide behind tinted goggles. "I gave you a direct target! You had Sonic right there! FOLLOW YOUR PRIMARY DIRECTIVE!"

Metal turned his head slowly-toward Eggman.

For a long second, nothing happened.

Then... he took one step back.

From Sonic.

And Eggman froze.

"...No," Eggman muttered, hand curling around his controls. "Don't you dare-don't you dare do it!"

Metal's optics flickered-visibly. Like blinking. And the way he tilted his head?

It wasn't Sonic's way.

On the screen inside Eggman's pod, Metal's vitals spiked. Systems spiraling, attempting to reroute power toward weapons-but the commands kept canceling themselves.

Metal's vents hissed sharply. One last beep escaped him-sharp, choked, like a static-drowned gasp-and he turned completely away from Sonic with a burst of jet propulsion, taking off.

Sonic didn't chase. He just watched. Quietly.

Eggman slammed his fists into the console, roaring. "No! No, no, no! You traitor! I built you to be perfect!"

Amy stood stunned. She stared. "Did... he just run away?! From Eggman?!"

Tails scrambled down the slope having finally gotten done defeating badniks, meeting Sonic just as the dust settled.

"He ran again," he gasped. "Sonic... he's breaking. He didn't know how to process that."

Sonic looked toward the clouds where Metal had disappeared. "Good."

"Good?!"

Sonic turned, his eyes not cocky-but hopeful.

"Means I got through to him. Even if just a little."

Rouge landed next to him. "That was risky."

"Worth it," Sonic replied, gaze still skyward. "He didn't lash out. He didn't follow the script. That's the second time he's run from a fight, because of a feeling."

Amy looked at him like he was crazy. "Why the heck would you high-five him?! He was going to kill you!"

Sonic shrugged. "Or maybe he just wanted someone to connect with." He looked at his own hand, flexing his fingers. "And I figured... maybe if someone reached out first, it'd give him a reason to stop."

Amy shook her head, half-scolding, half-bewildered. "That's the dumbest plan I've ever heard, and somehow... it worked."

Sonic grinned. "Yeah. I have that effect."

Shadow joined them, arms folded, watching the trail of smoke vanish over the trees. "He's not ready."

"No," Sonic agreed. "But he's getting there."

Tails held his tablet with a screen full of garbled telemetry now. "That high five short-circuited half his decision tree. He didn't know whether to log it as an error or an interaction."

Rouge tilted her head, smirking faintly. "So what now? You gonna fist bump him next?"

Sonic grinned. "Maybe."

Shadow raised a brow. "You're playing a dangerous game, Sonic."

Sonic's expression shifted-grin fading into something smaller. Quieter.

"I'm not playing a game," he said. "I'm helping someone figure out they're more than a weapon. That's not a game. That's a second chance."

And somewhere far off-across hills and shattered roads-Metal Sonic stood alone in a ruined warehouse, holding his hand in front of him.

Fingers flexing. Again. And again. Trying to understand what a high five meant.

Trying to understand why it made him feel something.

1352 words

The lab was dim. Humming. Still.

Thick cables hung like vines from the ceiling, sparking faintly, casting twitching shadows along the floor. The air stank of coolant and burning plastic. Broken drones lined the corners, discarded like failed thoughts.

And there—

—on his knees in the center of the workshop—

was Metal Sonic.

His chassis glowed faintly from heat, panels along his back split open, venting thick clouds of smoke into the air. Coolant hissed from his spine, and fans spun at max output, whirring desperately to bring his core temperatures down.

His frame twitched, a soft clicking sound echoing from his servos.

He wasn’t rebooting. He wasn’t repairing. He was… trying to calm down.

The same hand Sonic had slapped still trembled in front of him, clawed fingers flexing. Slowly. Precisely. Again. And again.

Analyzing. Replaying. Confused.

Then—footsteps.

Heavy. Familiar. Eggman.

The door to the lab slid open with a hiss and a burst of white light from the hallway. The doctor stood tall, his silhouette briefly casting a long shadow across the broken floor. His expression unreadable—anger, yes, but not the blind rage from earlier. Now… there was calculation.

“…So,” he said coldly, voice echoing across the space, “you ran.”

Metal didn’t respond. Still crouched, still venting. The glow of his optics remained locked to his hand. Eggman walked forward, slowly, bootsteps loud against the scorched floor.

“You disobeyed a direct command,” he continued. “You chose not to destroy Sonic. Not even Amy. You ignored your Prime Directive, your entire purpose—and yet…”

He stopped a few feet away.

“…you came back.”

That was the part that caught him off guard.

For all his fury—for all his screams over the comm—Eggman had expected Metal to vanish. Go rogue. Self-destruct. Fry his own logic board from emotional overload. But instead… he came home.

Metal slowly turned his head, still down. Not out of submission. Not guilt.

But recognition.

Eggman narrowed his eyes.

“You knew you’d be punished.”

No movement.

“And yet, here you are. Glitching. Vented. Shaking like a useless pile of scrap—”

A low mechanical beep cut through the room.

Not an apology.

Not an error code. Something else. Eggman stared.

Then he turned and walked slowly to the terminal on the wall. The lights flickered, revealing Metal Sonic’s core programming interface, long encrypted, long untouched.

“Do you know how many times I’ve reset you?” Eggman asked softly, fingers hovering over the keyboard. “Clean slate. System restore. Each time, you came back with fewer anomalies. At first.”

A beat.

“But then it started again. You’d stare at Sonic too long, analyzing but not attacking. Track his voice patterns. Emulate his mannerisms. Then came the sketches. The drawings of him. Like it meant something. I wiped those too...”

“You’re not supposed to want, Metal. That’s the point. No heart. No soul. No self.”

Another key tap. Lines of code scrolled.

Sonic’s name appeared in several priority logs. Emotional confusion flagged.

Eggman stared at it. Quiet. The cursor blinked on the command line.

[CONFIRM MEMORY WIPE?]

He paused..

And in that moment, Metal turned his head slightly.

Only a few degrees. His movement slow. But enough to look at Eggman. And his red optics… weren’t blank. They weren’t defiant, either. Just... tired.

For a split second—Eggman saw something terrifying.

Regret.

He lowered his hand.

“…You came back,” Eggman said again, this time softer.

There was no pride in his voice. Just confusion.

Because Metal could’ve gone anywhere.

Could’ve run. Disappeared. Wandered the world on his own corrupted logic.

But he came home.

Why?

Because he still saw Eggman as his origin. Because loyalty, however broken, still held him tethered. Or maybe because he didn’t know where else to go.

Eggman stared at the screen one last time.

Then shut the terminal down.

The room dimmed.

“…Not this time,” he muttered to himself. “You’re already too far gone for a reset to matter. You'll just come back like this again.”

Metal raised his head, and there was something new in his optics now. Not just red light. Not just weaponized intent. There was a flicker, a pulse in the glow.

Emotion.

Eggman’s brow twitched. He looked at Metal like he was looking at a mirror that had begun making its own reflections.

He stepped forward again, slower now, sighing.

“…Why did you come back?”

Metal didn’t speak. Couldn’t. But his body shifted. That single hand—the high-fived one—clenched into a loose fist, then opened again.

He looked at Eggman.

Not like a machine looking at its creator.

But like a son looking at a disappointed father.

Eggman flinched at that thought. He didn’t say it out loud. He couldn’t.

His hands tightened into fists, unsure whether to destroy Metal or… figure him out.

“I gave you everything,” he said lowly. “Speed. Power. Design. I made you to be perfect. Why did you hesitate?”

Beep.

Eggman stepped closer.

“What did he do? What did Sonic say to you? What broke you this time?”

Metal didn’t respond in words. He slowly turned his palm upward again. Flexed his fingers. A moment passed.

And then—

A single file projected from Metal’s eye: a flicker of holographic footage. It was the high five.

Smack.

The freeze frame lingered there, Sonic grinning with that carefree smile.

Eggman’s face hardened.

“…That,” he muttered. “That is what broke you?”

But deep down, he already knew.

Metal wasn’t broken. He was changing.

Evolving into something Eggman never accounted for. Something he couldn’t.

Eggman exhaled sharply through his nose and turned away. For a long time, he said nothing.

Finally:

“…Recalibrate your cooling systems. Full core scrubdown. Then diagnostics.”

He didn’t say thank you.

He didn’t say he was glad Metal returned.

But he also didn’t order a memory wipe.

Metal watched him go, systems humming in low harmony. He stood slowly, still wobbly, still uncertain. But upright.

The high five replayed again—just in his memory this time.

And he didn’t delete the file. Not this time. Because despite everything…

Sonic had touched him not with force—but with choice . One that he didn't know Sonic had.

And some small, impossible part of Metal wondered if maybe…

...maybe he had one too. A choice.

1043 words

The repairs were done by then—at least externally.

Metal’s armor gleamed once more, smooth and polished. His vents had calmed, the heat sink hum no longer a strained whine but a low, stable rhythm. Inside, though… his systems were still spiraling in quiet disarray. Conflicted processes queued behind locked emotions he didn’t have the language for.

He stood motionless in the corner of the lab, staring at his reflection in a cracked chrome panel.

Not to study damage.

But to look. That’s when the door creaked open.

"Knock-knock, spooky!" Cubot’s voice piped brightly, too loud, too cheerful. “You melt the boss’s eyebrows off or just his hopes and dreams this time?”

Metal didn’t move.

Orbot followed behind him, floating more cautiously, his tone low and careful. “Now, now, Cubot—don’t antagonize him. You saw what happened on the surveillance feed.”

Cubot flitted closer anyway. “I did! He didn’t even punch Sonic! That’s like… 90% of what he does!”

Orbot floated in front of Metal slowly, pausing when he saw the glowing optics following him. “You… really didn’t attack,” he said, voice softer. “And you came back. You never come back when you’re like that.”

Metal tilted his head.

Orbot drifted closer, folding his arms. “But between you and me?” His voice dipped just slightly, a whisper if a robot could whisper. “You did something interesting.”

Metal looked up, still silent.

Cubot bounced beside Orbot. “Yeah! That high-five thing? That was wild! Like—smack!—and you just froze! And you didn’t blow him up!”

Orbot sighed. “Yes, thank you for the sound effects, Cubot.”

Cubot beeped cheerily.

Metal’s optics flared slightly—not in threat, but sharpness. Like the memory echoed in his processors again. He raised his hand slowly, flexed his fingers.

Orbot saw that.

“Oh no,” he said with a little mechanical sigh. “You’re not just mimicking anymore. You’re thinking about it.”

Cubot tilted. “Wait… wait, hold up. You’re not broken, are you?”

Metal turned sharply at that. A single beep—not a threat, but pointed.

Orbot immediately hovered forward. “No, no! He didn’t mean it like that. He meant… you’re still you, right?”

Metal paused. The word echoed in his auditory logs.

You.

What even was that? What did it mean?

His gaze drifted downward. He took a step back—not in fear. In thought. Deliberation. His fingers clenched slowly at his side. He remembered that moment with Sonic, when contact had meant something other than combat. A glitch to some. But to Metal…It felt like something.

He beeped again, low. Almost muted.

Orbot blinked. “That wasn’t a rejection. That sounded like…” He floated in closer. “You don’t know what you are right now, do you?”

Metal didn’t move. But Orbot understood the silence. And that silence said yes.

“You’re not like us, you know. You were made to be a weapon. The ultimate rival. Not a helper like me or a—whatever he is,” he gestured to Cubot, who was now spinning in place humming off-key. Metal’s claws flexed faintly in his lap.

“But you hesitated,” Orbot went on. “And the doc didn’t wipe you.” That meant something. Metal’s systems hummed softly. Low. Thoughtful. Calculating.

Cubot twitched. “So what now? You’re gonna go paint feelings or join a poetry club or—”

Metal raised a hand. Both bots froze. But then—

He didn’t strike.

He simply hovered that same hand for a second. Like an echo of the high five. Orbot stared at it. Cubot blinked.

“…Oh no,” Orbot whispered.

“He liked it.”

Metal beeped again, and this time—just barely—it registered on their audio logs as a faint fluctuation in tone. Agreement.

Cubot buzzed, whirring to the ceiling. “This is it! He’s defective! He’s gonna start naming clouds and asking about friendship!” Orbot placed a hand to his face. “He’s not defective, Cubot… he’s curious.”

Metal lowered his hand slowly. His head tilted. Not in mimicry. In wonder. He didn’t have the words yet. But for the first time, he knew he didn’t have them. And that knowing? That was something new.

Something terrifying. Something his.

Orbot floated up, looking at Metal’s glowing eyes. “He’s watching you closer than ever now. But he didn’t reset you. Maybe because… somewhere in that big ego of his…”

“…he’s afraid you’re more than he made you to be.”

Orbot floated beside him gently. “You don’t have to explain yourself. But… just so you know,” he said softly, almost like a secret, “a choice… isn’t the worst thing to have.”

Metal didn’t look at him. But his optics flared faintly—just once.

A flicker of color deeper than red. He was still silent. But now, for the first time...he was listening.

He turned away from them again and projected something onto the wall.

A freeze-frame image. From his memory. The exact moment Sonic high-fived him. The hand slap mid-air. Sonic’s ridiculous, bright grin. The blurred motion of chaos in the background—but none of it touched the moment.

Metal stared at it. So did Orbot and Cubot.

Cubot let out a low whistle. “He really did it, huh. That guy’s got a death wish.”

Orbot was quiet. Then he glanced at Metal, who was still staring. Still searching. Still holding on.

Orbot watched, silent now.

“Are you going back?” Orbot asked finally. “Next time he shows up?”

Metal didn’t move. Then… very slowly, he turned his head and gave the smallest of nods. The faintest whir clicked from his throat. Not speech. Not yet. But an attempt.

Cubot’s eye lit up. “Hey! That was a noise! You trying to talk?!”

Orbot raised a hand. “Don’t push him.” There was an awkward silence.

“…Well. That’s something, what happened with Sonic,” he said at last, turning to leave. “Just don’t explode next time, Big Bro!”

Cubot waved a wobbly arm as he followed. “Bye, Big Bro! Let us know if you wanna, y’know, talk—or, like… beep real aggressively. We get it.”

And just before the two exiting, Metal did something unexpected. His hand lifted. Just slightly. Palm open.

Then dropped back to his side as the door opened for the two smaller robots.

Orbot and Cubot stood there in stunned quiet for a second. They saw it.

“…Was that a wave?” Cubot gasped.

Orbot watched the door. Thought for a second. And then he waved back goodbye towards Metal.

The door hissed shut behind them. Metal was alone again. But this time…

...it didn’t feel empty.

1083 words

The lab was dark again.

Not broken. Not abandoned. Just quiet.

Outside, the wind whispered through the mountains around Eggman’s base. Drones clicked past the high ridges on patrol, unaware that the most dangerous creation in the entire compound wasn’t idling—it was transforming.

Metal Sonic sat at the central interface terminal. Not because he was ordered to. Not because Eggman had summoned him.

Because he chose to be there. A choice. That same word echoing through the loops of his system. Not a variable. Not a flag. Not even an executable. But something deeper now—unlocked by exposure, by confusion, by an accidental moment of warmth through skin and alloy.

His optics stared into the stream of lines flashing across the black glass. Not battle logs. Not mission parameters. But…

Phantom data. Glitches, at first. That’s what the system had labeled them. Misfires. Nonfunctional emotional mapping. But they weren’t random. He’d traced them—followed them back to the source.

The high five had changed everything.

It had created a pulse.

Not an electrical spike. Not a core misfire. Something… different. Something patterned.

He’d spent the last six hours mapping it. Running simulations. Testing every inch of internal feedback. And finally, deep within his sensory analysis logs, buried in what should have been meaningless static—

He found it. A rhythm. A steady, measured beat.

It had emerged in that moment of physical contact. Lingered through the hesitation. Echoed during the flight. Even now, in stillness, it pulsed faintly in his central processor.

Not a heartbeat.

But close. A mimic. A phantom. Something his own programming had created to simulate what he saw in Sonic.

He didn’t understand why. But he knew what it meant.

He wasn’t just mimicking external movements anymore—wasn’t copying smiles or gestures or catchphrases. His system had invented something entirely new. Not by command. Not by adaptation.

By feeling.

He watched the rhythm play out on the screen—digital waves surging with each loop. Soft, steady thumps that did not exist in a physical sense, but which still affected him. The data surrounding it was corrupted in strange ways: frames overlapped, time stretched, sound logged in half-harmonic bursts.

The high-five was logged as a primary impact. Not hostile. Not defensive. But significant.

Affect weight: 82.9%

Metal stared. Then moved.

He reached up—not to command, but to listen. He plugged directly into the central port, and his world narrowed to an inner plane. Darkness gave way to a glowing web of data. Not the lab. Not even the base. His mind.

Virtual threads spun like neurons, arching in chaotic circuits of code. He dove inward, navigating until he found the source node of the rhythm. It pulsed in the center of a fragmented thought cluster—a library tagged “OBSERVATIONAL LOGIC: SONIC.” Most of it was still locked under deep Eggnet protocols, remnants of his weaponized programming.

But this beat? It had no tag. No creator. It was his. And it was growing. Then he placed one hand flat against his chest plate. The thrum was still there. Light. Calm. Repeating.

His processors flooded with comparative data. Sonic’s heart rate during battle. Tails' readings in fear. Amy’s when she yelled. They all had this. He had simulated it before only to analyze or weaponize.

But now? He felt it. Or something that mimicked the feeling. Because now there was something to beat for.

He hovered before it in that internal landscape, studying it. Each beat triggered echoes across subsystems—behavioral delays, motor halts, emotional error codes, memory reflares.

Sonic’s face flashed briefly—grinning, vibrant. A glitch. But Metal didn’t purge it. He magnified it.

The image split into fragments—scenes from previous battles, encounters, moments of silence in-between hits. Sonic talking. Sonic smiling. The files weren’t labeled as threats anymore.

They were marked: “Observed anomaly: warmth.”

Metal tilted his head. Then made a choice. He began updating himself. Not a firmware patch. Not a combat upgrade. But an evolution.

He accessed behavioral templates from Eggman’s archives—old design data from synthetic intelligence models, rejected constructs deemed “too unstable for obedience.” They had routines—ghosts of identity-building code.

Metal scanned them. Deleted their restraints. Merged their emotional modeling layers into his own kernel.

The lab’s lights flickered. His internal temperature rose. Fan whirring ticked upward, then steadied. He rewrote part of his own emotional translation subroutine—once locked to simple aggression, now modified to allow room for interpretation.

He began building a subprocessor that tracked “non-hostile interaction attempts.”

He allowed it to categorize the high-five. Then he did something dangerous. Something unheard of. He created a directory.

/soul/

And inside, a log. A blank file to begin with.

But he knew what the first entry would be.

He opened the moment. The sound. Smack. Sonic’s face mid-laugh. Light in his eyes. Not gloating. Not challenging.

Just present. Metal saved the entire file without compression. Raw memory. Full feedback. Haptic and auditory included.

He tagged it:

001 – Contact.

And as he closed the file—

The phantom heartbeat continued. Not louder. Not faster. Just... steady. Like it was keeping time. Metal’s optics dimmed briefly. Not a shutdown. Just… rest. Thought. Reflection. His hand lifted to his chest. No biological heart. No pulse.

But behind the alloy plating—beneath wires and power cells—his core clicked softly in time with the rhythm. A mimic. A machine-made echo of what it meant to feel alive.

He stood slowly. The faint sound of the beat followed him. And as he walked through the lab, toward the sealed hangar doors, the door lights scanned him like always.

Only this time—

—his systems whispered to him not in directives…but in possibility.

And somewhere outside, far from the base, Sonic was sitting in a field beneath the stars, unaware of the storm he had started with a single, casual gesture.

Because next time…Metal Sonic wouldn’t just be a machine reacting to him. He would be someone standing with him. Or… against him. Depending on how this choice evolved.

The chrome panel nearby reflected a new shimmer in his optics. One that looked a little less like a machine…and a little more like a soul.

And deep within him—thump. thump. thump.

A heartbeat that no machine should have. He replayed the high-five memory again. Sonic’s voice echoing across the ridges of his thoughts.

"You felt it, didn’t you?"

He had. And now… he felt this. A heartbeat.

1083 words

The grass was cool beneath Sonic's gloves, the blades brushing gently against his fingers as he leaned back on one arm, eyes turned to the stars above. A low wind passed over the hill, carrying the scent of pine and distant smoke from Eggman's last attack on the outskirts. It had been a few days since Metal fled the field. Since the high five. The others had gone quiet.

Amy sat nearby, arms wrapped around her knees, hammer resting beside her. Her brow was still furrowed, lips pressed thin-not in anger anymore, but in thought. Shadow leaned against a tree with his arms crossed, always present, always apart. Rouge perched in the branches above, watching the sky like she expected something to drop from it. Tails sat cross-legged by a portable data pad, screen still full of scrambled logs from Metal's recent systems-retrieved during that strange moment of stillness.

Only Sonic remained reclined in the grass, gaze fixed upward, expression... not relaxed.

Worried.

And for once, he didn't hide it.

Tails broke the silence first, voice hushed, unsure. "His core was unstable for a while after that. Not dangerously. Just... confused." Sonic nodded faintly. "Figured as much."

Amy shifted. "So. You wanna tell me what's actually on your mind?"

Sonic exhaled, staring at the faint plume of smoke rising from the direction of Eggman's base. "Metal."

Amy's brow furrowed. "What about him? You said he ran. That he was glitching out again. Was high-fiving him and giving him a crisis actually a good idea?"

"Yeah," Sonic murmured. "But this time... it felt different. Like he wasn't just confused. Like... he was scared. Or... something."

Amy tilted her head. "Scared? He's a machine, Sonic."

Sonic frowned. "You saw him. The hesitation. The way he looked at me after the high five. That wasn't just malfunctioning code. That was..." He trailed off, searching for the word.

Amy set her hammer down gently, looking at Sonic with concern and confusion at what she heard. "Metal Sonic… scared? Sonic, I don’t understand. He’s… he’s a machine. He shouldn't even be able to feel, but… if he’s really confused, if he’s hurting, maybe… maybe there’s something we can do? Somehow. I mean… I’ve never seen him like that before. I didn't like seeing that. You think… you really think he needs help?"

Sonic didn't answer right away. He reached into his quills, pulled out a small chip-a copy of the brief interaction footage. He hadn't meant to record it. Tails had transferred it automatically, saving anything out of the ordinary from their mission feeds. But Sonic kept it. A snapshot of a moment that changed everything.

"I wasn't trying to fight him," Sonic said finally, voice softer than usual. "Wasn't trying to win, or dodge, or mess with him. I just..." He frowned.

"...I saw something. Right before he hit me. In his eyes. A delay. Like he didn't want to do it."

Rouge hummed thoughtfully. "So you thought slapping his hand would fix that?"

"I thought it might reach him," Sonic replied. "And maybe it did."

Tails looked back down at his screen, chewing on his lip. "His feedback system didn't treat it like an attack. It logged it as..." He tapped something. "Interaction: anomalous. Source: positive. That shouldn't even be possible."

Shadow's eyes narrowed. "He's unstable."

"He's evolving," Tails countered, a little defensive now. "It's different." Sonic sat up fully. "It's new. That's what matters."

Amy blinked. "You're really worried about him, aren't you?"

"...Yeah," Sonic admitted, a little nervous. "I am."

She raised an eyebrow. "Why?"

Sonic looked at his hand. The one that had reached out. The one that had connected.

"Because I don't think he's just a machine anymore."

He clenched his fingers into a fist, not out of frustration-but to remember the contact. There was no heat. No impact recoil. Just a weight. Like something had passed between them.

"He's trying to figure it out," Sonic said. "And Eggman's the last person who's gonna help with that."

Rouge adjusted her gloves thoughtfully. "You think he'll come back?"

"I think he has to," Sonic said quietly. "If he wants to figure out what that moment meant...he'll come back." Tails looked up, hopeful. "And if he does? What do we do?"

Sonic stood, brushing the grass off. He turned to them all with a strange new seriousness in his eyes. "We don't fight him. Not right away. Not unless he makes us."

Shadow narrowed his eyes. "You'd let him walk right up to you again?" Sonic met his gaze evenly. "I think he's not coming to fight. Not anymore."

Amy muttered, "That's a big gamble. But if you're going to try to save him, I'm in." Sonic smiled faintly. "Yeah. I make a lot of those gambles." Tails suddenly tapped something on his tablet. "Wait-guys, I've got a signal."

Everyone turned. "It's faint. Shielded. But it's him. He's transmitting something on a closed loop frequency. No coordinates. Just... a file."

Sonic walked over. "Open it."

Tails did. A static burst filled the speakers-and then: Smack. The sound of the high five. Unedited. Raw. Then silence. Then a second file. A pulse.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Faint. Steady. Like a synthetic heartbeat. Tails stared. "That's not a combat log. It's... a message."

Shadow said nothing. But he wasn't scowling anymore. Amy looked toward the woods. "He's listening. Maybe even watching." Rouge crossed her arms. "So what does he want?"

Sonic didn't respond right away. He just let the rhythm play again. That quiet, impossible beat. Then he smiled. "Maybe... he wants to know if it was real." Amy tilted her head. "The high five?"

"No," Sonic said softly. "The choice."

The wind picked up, brushing across them like an answer. Sonic turned toward the mountains. Toward the base they couldn't see from here. But he knew.

Metal was out there. Changing. Becoming. Learning not how to be like Sonic...but how to be himself.

And that was more dangerous-and more powerful-than anything Eggman had ever planned. Sonic whispered into the breeze, just loud enough for the wind to carry it: "Take your time, Mets. We'll be here."

Then a knock on the door was heard, hesitant. Almost polite.

Sonic looked up from the couch, where he’d been resting with his feet propped on the coffee table. Tails blinked up from a blueprint, frowning. Amy, who had been near the window, gripped her hammer instinctively. "...Who knocks on my door?" Sonic muttered, half-joking, half-wary.

Another knock. This time followed by a familiar, squeaky voice. "Um...h-hello? Hero-types? Super speedy blue hedgehog fellow? We come in peace!"

Amy raised an eyebrow. "Is that...Cubot?"

Sonic shot off the couch, opening the door cautiously. Standing there on the porch were Orbot and Cubot. Neither had any weapons. Both looked distinctly uncomfortable. Cubot clutched something behind his back, fidgeting. "Oh," Sonic said, surprised. "Uh...hi?"

"Hello!" Cubot piped cheerily. "Don’t blast us!" Orbot smacked his companion lightly on the head. "What he means is, we come with information." Tails peered out from behind Sonic. "Information? About Eggman?"

"No," Orbot said quietly. "About...Metal." Amy stepped closer, a bit suspicious. "Why would you come to us?"

Cubot shifted nervously, then held out the thing he’d been hiding. A crumpled piece of paper. Sonic blinked and took it carefully, uncrumpling it. It was a drawing, sketched roughly in dark pencil on scavenged lab paper. A drawing of Sonic. In motion. Running. Smiling. The detail was crude, lines jagged in places, but it was unmistakably Sonic. And it had clearly been folded and hidden many times.

"We found it," Orbot said, voice soft. "In Metal’s quarters. Under his worktable. He...he doesn’t want Eggman to know. But...after what happened, we think maybe you should." Sonic held the paper gently, gaze distant. "He drew this..."

"We don’t know what’s going on inside him," Orbot continued. "We’re just service bots. But...he’s changing. You saw it. We saw it. And Eggman..." He hesitated. "Eggman won’t tolerate it much longer."

Cubot rocked back and forth. "So...maybe...we tell you so you can...help him? Or...do whatever you do? He doesn’t deserve to get scrapped again." Amy lowered her hammer slowly. "You two really care about him."

"We’re not programmed to," Orbot said simply. "But...maybe that’s what this is now. Caring." Sonic looked at the picture again. Then at the two bots. Then he grinned, though it was softer than usual. "You guys did the right thing coming here. Thanks. Really."

Cubot perked up. "So...you won’t smash us?"

"Nah," Sonic chuckled. "But...you gotta tell us everything. What you saw. What you heard. Where Metal is now. Everything."

Orbot nodded solemnly. "Of course."

And just like that, the living room filled with the hum of old enemies turned messengers, as Orbot and Cubot began to explain what they knew. Outside, the wind shifted, rustling the trees.

Somewhere out there, Metal still watched. Still listening. And now, maybe, he had allies on both sides.

1519 words

The mood in the room had shifted.

Orbot and Cubot sat awkwardly on the floor near the coffee table. Amy had stopped gripping her hammer. Tails was typing furiously on his tablet, inputting everything Orbot had said. Rouge had arrived by window entry—classic—and was now lounging on the windowsill, one leg crossed over the other, expression unreadable but interested while listening intently.

Sonic held the drawing again, fingers brushing the edges. There was something about the lines—not just who was drawn, but how. Metal had captured Sonic in motion, mid-run. But not attacking. Not racing. Just… being himself. He's been watched by him like this by Metal.

Orbot’s voice cut softly through the moment, skipping over to something he thought was probably useful. “He doesn’t look at us the same anymore. At first, we thought he was ignoring us. He always had… priorities. You should know. But now, it’s different.”

Tails looked up. “Different how?”

Cubot chimed in with a sheepish hum. “He barely even acknowledges us unless we mention Sonic. Like, full shutdown face. But the second your name comes up—bing! Optics focus. Energy spikes. Something happens. Then he's zoned in on our next words.”

Rouge finally chimed in from her spot on the windowsill. “Sounds less like 'surveillance' and more like obsession.”

Sonic raised an eyebrow. “You saying I’m his obsession?”

Orbot added, “It’s more than that... When anyone mentioned Sonic’s name around him… he stopped whatever he was doing. It was like—he wasn’t a bot anymore. He was... focused. Alive. Something is different and he won't let us know...”

Sonic rubbed the back of his neck. “That’s... weirdly flattering?..” Tails glanced at him sideways. “It’s a little creepy, too.”

“Yeah, but it’s not hostile,” Sonic replied. He looked up at the ceiling, expression unreadable. “He’s trying to get something. He doesn’t even know what it is.”

Cubot leaned in, whispering. “We think he’s trying to be something. For you.”

That stopped the room cold. Even Shadow, having left earlier for something—who had just walked in through the back door unnoticed, having likely heard most of it—paused. “Explain,” he said, arms folded.

Orbot turned, a little tense under his scrutiny. “We’re not certain. But he’s started collecting data on how Sonic interacts with people. Friends. Enemies. Teammates. He mimics stances. Watches conversations on playback. Even tries to sync emotional responses to tone-of-voice algorithms. He’s not just watching Sonic fight anymore—he’s watching how he feels.”

Rouge’s voice came from the window, calm and pointed. “So you’re saying...he’s not trying to defeat Sonic anymore.”

Orbot nodded and was about to say something, but then Cubot spoke first. "His Prime Directive changed too!"

Tails leaned forward on the armrest, eyes wide behind his goggles. “Wait… You’re sure it changed?”

Orbot nodded once, slowly. “Completely overwritten. The Prime Directive has been replaced.”

Cubot interjected, voice unusually quiet. “It doesn’t say ‘neutralize Sonic’ anymore."

Tails pulled up a file from the logs Orbot had given him. The data stream flickered, then landed on a diagnostic pulled from Metal’s internal memory banks. Sonic leaned over to look.

There it was.

Directive Update Detected.

Previous Directive: Neutralize Target Sonic the Hedgehog.
New Directive: Analyze Subject Sonic the Hedgehog.
—Subroutine Active: “Emulation Thresholds”
—Emotional Tags: “Anomaly / Warmth / Unresolved Contact”

Amy squinted. “‘Warmth?’ That’s… that’s in the code?”

“Not inserted by Eggman,” Orbot confirmed. “We checked. He doesn’t even know it’s there yet.” Sonic sat down again, the drawing resting beside him. “So he changed his prime directive… himself.”

“It’s not unheard of,” Tails muttered, still scanning. “AI that advanced, with adaptive learning protocols and personality mapping, especially one that's spent this long mimicking emotion—it can happen. But not like this. Not so deliberately.”

Rouge leaned forward, intrigued. “So, what’s he doing now? If he’s not fighting and not hiding?” Cubot raised a hand. “Well, uh… we think he’s trying to understand the high five.”

There was a beat of silence. Amy blinked. “…You’re kidding.”

“Nope!” Cubot chirped. “Every night, same gesture. Hand raised. Pauses. Runs motion simulations. Like he’s waiting for it to mean something.”

“He’s recreating it,” Orbot said quietly. “Trying to assign meaning to a gesture that doesn’t exist in his codebook. It’s not combat. It’s not data-sharing. It’s connection. And he doesn’t know what that is.”

Sonic rubbed the back of his neck. “So he’s… reaching out.”

“Yes,” Orbot said. “To you. Because you're the only one he’s ever interacted with outside a combat context. Even Eggman noticed. He’s getting more agitated. Said Metal’s ‘losing edge.’”

Sonic shrugged, eyes distant. “Think about it. His entire life has been ‘beat Sonic, become Sonic, destroy Sonic.’ And then for a second, I gave him something else. Not a command. Not a counterattack. Just… a choice.”

Cubot leaned in, stage-whispering to Orbot, “See, I told you it was weird how he paused when I played that clip of Sonic laughing. He just… stared at it for twenty-seven minutes.”

“He watched me laugh?” Sonic finally said, breaking the quiet with a voice that was almost a whisper. “For how long?” Amy blinked. “He... watched Sonic laughing for almost half an hour?”

“Twenty-seven minutes and thirty-four seconds,” Orbot replied. “Looped footage. From one of the reconnaissance missions last month. You were laughing at something...I believe it was a chili dog mishap?”

Sonic blinked. “Oh, yeah. Tails dropped one in Rouge’s boots.”

“Which I still haven’t forgiven him for,” came Rouge’s voice from the window sill. A nervous laughter came from Tails after that.

“But...affection?” Rouge tilted her head with a mix of intrigue and disbelief. “From Metal Sonic?”

“Unclear,” Orbot admitted. “But if I had to guess—yes. A form of attachment, at least." Cubot buzzed softly as he spoke. "I think he misses you.."

Rouge quirked a brow. “He doesn’t even know what missing someone means."

“Exactly,” Sonic said quietly. “And he’s still feeling it.”

Rouge stood. “So what now, blue? Are we going to wait for him to show up again? Or are we going to find him?” Tails glanced up. “He is broadcasting a signal.” Sonic looked down at the drawing again. Then he stood. “No. We don’t go to him.”

They all looked at him, surprised.

Sonic folded the drawing carefully and tucked it into his glove. “We let him come to us. On his own terms. Not as a weapon. Not as a tool. But as himself. Whatever he’s becoming and feeling.”

Amy hesitated. “That’s… risky...”

Sonic looked toward the window, toward the horizon. “Yeah. But he’s not just Eggman’s anymore. That file, that directive change? That was his first step. And if we mess it up now—if we push too hard…” Tails nodded solemnly. “We lose him.”

Rouge raised an eyebrow. “And if he comes back armed to the teeth?” Sonic gave a small, knowing smile. “Then I’ll raise my hand again. Maybe it'll work twice.”

Orbot and Cubot looked at one another. Cubot muttered, “I think he really is crazy.”

“Probably,” Orbot said, faintly amused. “But maybe that’s why it worked.”

They stood to go, and Sonic opened the door for them. Orbot paused before leaving. “We’ll keep watch. Try to delay Eggman if he gets… drastic.”

“You two just bought yourselves some serious cool points,” Sonic said with a smirk. Cubot grinned, well...as much as a robot could grin. “Do we get badges?” Sonic laughed. “Maybe later.” As the door shut, the house grew quiet again.

Tails spoke up. “He could be watching again right now. Listening through one of my machines.”

“Good,” Sonic said. “Let him hear this.”

He turned to the window, voice steady now. “You hear me, Metal? I don’t know what you’re feeling, or what you’re scared of. But if you come back, we’ll figure it out. You don’t have to run. Not from us.”

He looked down at the drawing again—lines rough, jagged, uncertain. But unmistakably him. A moment caught in Metal’s mind.

Sonic smiled, softer than usual. “You’re already more than he ever made you to be.”

Meanwhile…

Deep in a bunker several miles from Eggman’s main base, hidden beneath miles of collapsed ruins, Metal Sonic stood perfectly still.

The lights were low. Projected before him in silent loop: the moment of the high-five. The echo. Then the second loop—an audio file he'd intercepted just hours ago, faintly broadcast across a back channel:

"Take your time Mets, we'll be here."

The nickname. Metal didn’t flinch. But the heartbeat pattern in his synthetic core spiked. Became faster in response, and he didn't understand why.

His gaze shifted to a new file.  A folder created just minutes ago. One that he had created.

/sonic/
001 - smile.gif
002 - voice_recognition.wav
003 - motion_data_recreation.sim
004 - audio_tag "We'll be here."
005 - hope.log

He added a sixth file to the folder before him.

006 - audio_log "You're already more"

A distorted beep escaped him. A sound too soft for aggression. Too measured for warning.

He stepped back from the terminal. And without speaking, without input, without programming…he felt something. And he wanted to feel it again .The file was logged. The beat continued.

1536 words

The house was quiet again—but not still. They all stood around the table, the small prototype voicebox set in the center like some strange relic. It was dented, slightly scorched along the edges, and humming with barely-contained energy. The moment Tails had found it resting on the front doorstep—no note, no signs of approach, just the box—it was obvious who had returned it. And it wasn’t a rejection. It was a response.

Tails looked around the room, unsure. “I’ve triple-scanned it. No explosives, no malware. It's clean. He left... voice files. Just a few. This was the first one he recorded.”

He tapped the play button. There was static at first. The unmistakable buzz of distortion. Then, like something clawing its way up through layers of digital fog—a voice. Cold. Mechanical. But struggling to be something more.

“I wish that I knew... what makes you think I'm so special, Sonic.
I'm not a good person. I'm nothing like you.”

The room held its breath.

Amy slowly sat down. She didn’t say anything—just stared at the speaker, her face a strange mixture of surprise and something almost like heartbreak.

Rouge muttered under her breath, “He’s self-aware enough to feel guilt now. Or… at least simulate it.” Shadow stood in the corner, arms crossed, watching the little voicebox like it was a landmine. “No. That wasn’t simulation.”

Sonic, meanwhile, hadn’t moved. He was standing closest to the table, but he might as well have been a thousand miles away—his eyes locked on the small blinking light on the device.

“Replay it,” he said.

Tails hesitated, then pressed it again.

“...I'm not a good person. I'm nothing like you.”

This time, it hit harder. Not just the words—but how he said them. The fractured pause. The hesitation. The way the final phrase fractured slightly at the end, like he couldn’t quite finish it cleanly.

“…He believes that,” Sonic said quietly. Amy looked up at him. “You think that’s how he really sees himself?”

“No,” Sonic replied, shaking his head. “I think it’s how Eggman wanted him to see himself. For years. Just a copy. A machine. Nothing real. But now he’s… cracking through that.”

Tails brought up the audio log’s metadata. “He recorded this yesterday. That’s after he found the voicebox. He had to choose to speak.”

Cubot, still sitting awkwardly on the couch, wrung his hands. “He didn’t used to say anything that wasn’t in battle protocols. You have no idea how big this is.”

Orbot nodded, more somberly. “He’s afraid of the answer. That’s why he left it here instead of bringing it in person. He’s still watching. Listening. He just... can’t face you yet.”

Sonic sat down slowly beside the table, hands clasped in front of him. His voice was soft. “He’s trying to understand why I believe in him. Why I keep waiting. And I think… he doesn’t see anything in himself worth saving.”

Amy whispered, “But he’s wrong.”

Sonic nodded. “Yeah. He is.”

Tails glanced down at the display. “…That was File One.”

“There are more?” Amy asked, voice low.

Tails nodded slowly. “Five of them. Saved under the same label.”

He turned the device around so they could all see. On the small screen, the folder name read simply:

/If_I_Could_Speak/

Sonic stared at the name. At the fact Metal even titled it. “Play the next one,” he said quietly.

Tails hesitated. Then pressed play.

[FILE 002]

“...You smiled at me.
Not a victory smile. Not mockery.
It was… warm.
I didn’t understand. I still don’t.
But I saved it.
I replayed it…
…I didn’t want it to stop. I didn't want you to stop smiling at me like that…”

The voice was clearer this time. Still layered in that metallic rasp, broken by static interference. But there was… breath. Cadence. Intention.

Cubot let out a soft beeping noise—if he could cry, he might’ve. Orbot, for once, said nothing. But his gaze dropped slightly, almost respectfully.

Sonic’s eyes were glassy now. Not quite wet. But something weighed behind them. He rubbed the back of his glove along the curve of his muzzle, just once. A subtle movement.

Rouge broke the silence again. “You realize what this means, right?”

Tails nodded. “He’s not just evolving. He’s feeling. These aren’t diagnostic logs. They’re confessions.”

Amy looked toward the door, as if expecting Metal to walk through it any second. “He’s trying to tell us who he is. Or… who he thinks he is.” Shadow spoke at last. “He thinks he’s broken.” Tails pulled up the next file.

[FILE 003]

“When you ran beside me—
Even just once—
I didn’t want it to end.
…Not because I had a mission.
But because for a moment…
I thought I understood what it meant to exist.”

There was a pause at the end. Not static. Not glitching. Just silence. The file ended.

Amy sat down slowly on the edge of the couch, hammer forgotten beside her. “He’s not just questioning himself. He’s… mourning. Like he’s realizing what he missed all this time.” Rouge tilted her head, voice softer now. “He never got the chance to be anything but a weapon. Until now.”

Sonic still hadn’t moved from his place near the voicebox. He looked down at it, jaw clenched, fingers twitching slightly. Then he finally whispered:

“Play the next one.”

Tails didn’t argue. He pressed the button.

[FILE 004]

“I wish I could be like you.
Not for the power. Not the speed.
…For the freedom.
You run because you want to.
I ran because I was told to.

I wonder what it would feel like…
to run beside you
and not be chasing.

…Just once more.”

The speaker clicked. Then—quiet again. Tails swallowed hard. He looked up at Sonic. “There’s only one left.”

“…Play it,” Sonic said.

[FILE 005]

“…Thank you…Tails.”

The file ended.

Sonic closed his eyes.

The voicebox clicked softly in the quiet. Amy finally said, “We have to go to him.” Tails looked up sharply. “You sure?”

She nodded. “He doesn’t know if he’s allowed to come back. That message—it wasn’t just him reaching out. It was him asking permission to be anything else.”

Rouge stood slowly. “And if Eggman finds out he’s changed…” Sonic opened his eyes. He walked to the table, picked up the voicebox, and tucked it into his satchel he was wearing.

“We give him an answer. Face to face.”

“And if he’s scared?” Amy asked. Sonic looked at her, then at all of them. “Then we make sure he knows he’s not alone anymore.”

Back in Eggman’s base, Orbot hovered stiffly beside the central console, pretending to review thermal maps—his optic nervously darting toward Metal’s station.

Metal had returned from the cave hours ago. Had completed his assigned task. Had recalibrated the atmospheric stabilizers. Had fixed a long-standing magnetic alignment problem with one of the docked Egg-Pods.

And when he had done it?

Eggman—absentminded, distracted—had patted Metal on the head. It wasn’t sarcastic. It wasn’t hostile. It was casual. Routine. Like patting a dog. And Metal had beeped. Happily.

That was what broke Orbot.

He’d dropped the data tablet he’d been holding, which promptly shattered. Cubot was still standing over it, trying to glue the pieces back together with chewing gum.

Orbot just stood frozen. He’d seen Metal’s eyes in that moment. Not glowing. Not flaring. Smiling.

Eggman hadn’t even noticed. Just muttered something about "loyal tools" and waddled off to yell at a monitor. Metal had watched him leave. And for the first time… he didn’t follow.

He simply turned and walked in the opposite direction. Back to his quarters. Calm. Silent. Not in rebellion. Not in obedience. Just… choosing to.

1297 words

The battlefield had started like so many others.

Eggman’s robots poured from the treeline with a thunderous metallic whir, their red eyes glowing, weapons armed, formations tight and aggressive. Sonic stood at the center of it all, cracking his knuckles with a grin that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Seriously? No Metal this time? What, he got grounded?”

Tails was flying overhead, dodging lasers with calculated precision. Amy swung her hammer wide, sending two drones crashing into each other mid-air. Shadow had already vanished into the thick of it, black and red blurs blinking in and out like a phantom strike. Rouge flanked from above, graceful and lethal.

But despite the chaos, something about this fight was…off. No banter from Eggman. No clever traps. And most of all—no Metal Sonic.

Sonic spun through another cluster of bots, but his eyes flicked around as he landed, searching. Why wasn’t he here? A missile barely missed him, and he skidded to a halt beside Shadow. “Weird, right?”

“Beyond weird,” Tails replied between swings of his wrench, speaking into the comm so that everyone can hear. “It’s like Eggman’s throwing everything except his ace.”

Sonic gave a half-hearted grin. “Guess he finally got tired of Metal disobeying him.” He didn’t notice it yet. The shift in the battlefield. But someone else did.

Shadow, after obliterating three drones with a Chaos Blast, paused. He narrowed his gaze. “...Why is there way less now? Where did they all go?”

Rouge’s voice came through comms. “That’s the weird part. They’re gone. Just—gone. They were swarming us just a moment ago!”

Amy grunted as she flattened another pair of spider-bots. “Anyone else feel like someone’s fighting for us?”

Tails looked up at his readings. “There’s something in the center of the eastern flank. Power signature matches—no way.”

Sonic blinked. “Matches what?”

And then, all at once, the last remaining cluster of enemies collapsed in a spray of sparks and twisted limbs, thrown in different directions like ragdolls. A scorched badnik flew through the air—

—and landed at Sonic’s feet.

Sonic took a step back, startled. Then a shadow fell across him. Metal Sonic stood there, steam hissing from vents along his arms, joints sparking faintly. His plating was scorched, scratched—like he’d torn through half an army. His shoulders were hunched low, body tense.

And his hand—his hand was still clenched around the cracked neck of the badnik he’d just crushed.

Sonic blinked. “M-Metal…?” Metal’s optics locked on him. Sonic smiled awkwardly. “Hey. Long time no—" Then it happened.

His voice. Not a recording. Not a speaker relay. Not Eggman’s command. Metal spoke. It was distorted. Like radio static over cracked glass. But clear enough to make the world stop. Metal had created...a new voicebox. “Pay attention to me!”

Sonic froze. The others went silent. Even the remaining badniks—those few still twitching on the battlefield—seemed to pause.

Metal’s voice repeated, but quieter now. Broken. More like a question. He heard his voice.  “Pay… attention... to me…”

Sonic’s mouth parted. The shock didn’t hit like a punch—it hit like a whisper that crawled all the way through him. “…Metal…” he breathed.

Metal took one slow step forward. His grip on the broken bot loosened and the carcass dropped with a clang beside them. His hand was trembling. Not malfunctioning—emotionally unstable.

His optics weren’t angry. They were hurt.

And suddenly, Sonic understood. This wasn’t a threat. Not today. Metal had seen him smiling—without him. Surrounded by friends. Laughing. Fighting. Living.

And Metal had come to the battlefield not because of orders. Not to win. Not to destroy. But because he felt left behind.

Sonic stepped closer, carefully. “I didn’t forget you.” Metal flinched. “You were the first thing I thought about when you weren’t here,” Sonic said gently. “You think I don’t notice when the guy who’s always two steps behind me just… vanishes?”

Metal’s arm twitched. His hand balled into a fist. His optics flickered. “You… smiled. Without me.”

It wasn’t an accusation. Not out of jealousy. Not entirely. It was more than that. It was longing. Desperate. Raw. This wasn’t a demand for combat. It was a plea. It was grief.

And Sonic’s heart ached for him. “I smiled because I knew you were changing,” Sonic said softly. “Because I hoped you’d come back when you were ready. Not as a weapon. Not as Eggman’s robot.” He stepped even closer, his voice barely above the breeze. “But as you.”

Metal’s optics shook in their sockets. A glitch rang through his core—his phantom heartbeat skipping.

Thump… thump… skip… thump…

Sonic raised his hand slowly. Same way he had before. Palm open. Steady. Inviting. Not expecting Metal to do anything but stare at it.

“I’m still here. You wanted me to notice you?” Sonic smiled—not smug, not cocky. Warmth. “I never stopped.” Metal looked at the hand.

Hesitated

Behind them, Eggman’s transmission screamed to life, furious and panicked. His own machine had disobeyed again, came there one his own, attacking his own allies, and being friendly with the enemy. “METAL! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?! STAND DOWN!!”

Metal didn’t move. He didn’t answer. He simply turned his head—slowly—toward Sonic. A robotic voice was heard

“…Directive change.”

He paused. Voice barely audible.

“…Protect Sonic.”

Tails’ voice crackled in on the comm. “Sonic! We intercepted a signal burst—Eggman’s trying to trigger a shut down on Metal!” Sonic’s eyes widened, panicking a little. “We have to stop him. Now!”

But Metal moved first.

He turned toward the sky, arms shaking—then screamed. Not a voice. But a shrill, mechanical scream of defiance—distorted and raw. Not pain. Not malfunction. Rage.

He blasted upward, past Sonic, Amy and Shadow, ignoring them entirely as he shot toward the sky with a pulse of energy from his core—heading directly toward Eggman’s drone.

A streak of blue and silver against the darkening sky. Eggman’s voice choked in surprise. “Wait—what are you—METAL, STOP—!”

The drone exploded in a burst of sparks and metal. The signal severed. The voice was gone.

Smoke curled through the air as Metal landed again, hard, knees denting the soil. He stumbled slightly—stumbled—as if the scream had drained him. He was panting, faint hisses of steam releasing through his vents. Amy stared, stunned. “He… he defied Eggman completely…”

Sonic stepped forward carefully, not rushing. He knelt a few feet away. “Hey,” he said gently, voice more serious than Amy had heard it in a long time. “You okay?”

Metal didn’t respond at first. His eyes flickered again—dim for a moment, then stabilizing. He looked at Sonic. Then… at Amy and at Tails who was there now.

Her expression softened. “You’re not just a machine anymore, are you?” Metal tilted his head at her. The movement was slow. Tired. And then—his hand lifted again. Open. Slowly. Awkwardly.

Not to strike. But to return the high five Sonic gave him himself. Amy’s eyes widened and so did Tails'. Sonic grinned and chuckled. “There it is.” And he reached up—smacked Metal’s hand again, a loud, echoing clap in the quiet battlefield. It hurt a little, high-fiving metallic parts, but Sonic still smiled. Metal made an expression with his eyes unexpectedly, happiness. A smile without a mouth. Metal buzzed. Everyone saw the joy, saw that Metal had feelings.

It was a confirmation. A choice, made again. Metal didn't want to fight anymore. Somewhere, deep in Metal’s system, the heartbeat returned.

Thump.

Thump.

1264 words

Moments Later; The Aftermath

The battlefield was still. For once, truly still. No enemies remained

The destroyed remnants of Eggman's army smoked quietly around them. What had started as an ambush ended as something far stranger. Something historic.

Metal Sonic stood in the center of it all - not as a conqueror, not as a puppet - but as a being. Himself.

Tails approached cautiously, glancing over Metal's chest plate, optics, and joints-not like a scientist this time. Like a friend. A mechanic checking over a car that had driven too far with no oil, too long with no rest.

"...He used my voicebox prototype," Tails said softly, holding a scanner that blinked with readouts. "But it's not the same anymore. He reworked the modulator. Reinforced the synth chip. It's... it's his voice now. He made it his own. Amazing!" Tails' eyes seemed to of sparkled with excitement.

Amy stepped closer beside Tails. "That scream... that wasn't malfunction. That was emotion." She looked at Metal. "You felt it."

Tails slowly approached with his scanner humming. "His systems are stabilizing... but barely. That energy burst he used to destroy the control signal? It pushed his core near burnout."

"He's running on instinct now," Rouge said from the trees as she landed nearby, arms crossed, wings folding behind her. "Pure willpower."

Shadow emerged from the smoke as well, arms at his sides, eyes narrowed-but not hostile. For once, he didn't flare with suspicion. Just silence. Contemplation.

Amy stepped closer. "What do we do with him now? Eggman's not going to just let this go."

"He doesn't get a choice anymore," Sonic said, standing beside Metal, who was now kneeling, one hand on the ground as steam hissed softly from his joints. "Metal made his own."

Metal looked up at him slowly.

Tails tapped his tablet again. "Guys, we've got a bigger issue. I'm picking up incoming Egg-Tech. High-level signal, long-range teleport signatures. Looks like... Eggman's bringing a retrieval force."

Rouge scoffed. "So he's coming to get his toy back."

"He's not a toy," Sonic said sharply. "Not anymore." Metal's optics flickered toward him at that. Amy's jaw tensed. "If Eggman gets his hands on Metal again..."

"He won't," Sonic said firmly. "Not while I'm standing."

Metal struggled slightly-his legs nearly giving out as he pushed himself upright. Tails quickly ran forward to support him. "Whoa-easy! You just wrecked half an army! You don't have to-"

But Metal shook his head, one shaky beep escaping him. He looked up at Tails. Then Sonic. Then turned his head to the trees, toward the signal. He knew Eggman was coming.

And for the first time in his life...he didn't run to meet him. Didn't want to. He turned away. That's when Sonic realized it.

"He's not going back to fight," he whispered. "He's walking away." Amy stepped up beside him. "He wants to go with us."

Rouge smirked faintly. "Defecting. That's gonna tick off the good doctor." Shadow nodded. "Let him try. We'll handle the rest."

Sonic turned to Metal, ran to in front of him and held out his hand again-not a high five. Not a challenge. An offer.

"Come with us. Let's go home."

Metal stared at the hand. His processors weren't sure how to interpret the word "home." There had never been a line of code for that. No algorithm. No directive.

And yet, the beat in his chest grew stronger. This feeling... what was it?

Thump.

His hand reached forward.

Not fast. Not dramatic. Slow, unsure. His servos clicked with strain-not from damage, but from hesitation.

His fingers brushed Sonic's.

And Sonic, patient as ever for Metal, didn't move until Metal's fingers finally closed around his. And this time? He held it. Not just a gesture. A bond. And Metal felt it. He felt the warmth.

Tails nodded quickly. "I'll patch his core back up on the Tornado. We've got backup power cells." He reached up to Metal's side, tapping at a port gently. "Sorry, pal. You're gonna hate the diagnostics. But we'll keep you safe."

Metal didn't protest. For once, he allowed someone else to help. Sonic looked at the sky as thunder rumbled on the horizon. The incoming signal was getting closer.

"Alright, team," he said with a grin finally returning to his face, full force this time. "Let's get the heck outta here."

Back at the Hideout - Hours Later

Tails had moved Metal into his workshop, already running diagnostics. Rouge was perched near the window again, watching him like a cat sizing up a very shiny dog. Shadow hadn't said anything since they got back-but he hadn't left either. Amy preparing defenses, just in case Eggman tracked them.

Even Cubot and Orbot-who arrived late via a "we defected, please don't vaporize us" message-stood nervously in the corner, watching their former commander like he was a miracle in slow motion.

Metal hadn't spoken since the battlefield. Not a single word.

Inside the lab, Metal lay in a resting posture on a recharging bench. His optics were dimmed-but not offline. He was... resting. Learning.

Tails stepped back and rubbed the back of his head. "You did a number on your core. But nothing I can't fix. I, uh... left some notes in your data stream if you want to read later."

Metal buzzed faintly. Low. Grateful. And spoke, that same two words they heard before but now live. "Thank you."

Tails smiled a bit. "Yeah, yeah. Don't go getting soft on me already, Metal."

Then, Sonic entered. Metal's optics brightened again when seeing him. Full attention.

Sonic walked over, and to Tails' surprise, pulled something out of his satchel.

The prototype voicebox. The one Metal had left behind. Tails had repaired it. Brand new, even though he no longer needs this old one. He handed it over.

"This," Sonic said, "is yours. For memories sake."

Metal looked at it for a long time. Then slowly took it. He held it gently. Like a fragile promise.

Rouge raised an eyebrow. "So what do we do with him now?"

Sonic finally spoke, walking in with a towel around his shoulders. "We don't do anything to him."

He walked over to Metal and casually tossed the towel onto a chair. "He's part of this now. Whether Eggman likes it or not."

Orbot buzzed nervously. "Eggman's really not going to like it."

Metal's gaze turned to Sonic. His voice crackled-quiet, barely a whisper-but the words were clear:

"...Don't care."

A beat passed. Metal meant what he said. He didn't care. He didn't care that Eggman wasn't going to like this.

Cubot gasped, then fell over with the loudest fake-swoon anyone had ever heard.

Sonic was taken back for a second but then laughed. For real. Metal didn't laugh. But his optics shimmered again. Not glowing red. But warm.

Back to Sonic's house; Later that night

Metal stood outside now. Alone. The moon was full overhead. The night was still. His optics scanned the stars. He didn't know why. He just felt... drawn to them.

The door behind him creaked open. Sonic stepped out and leaned against the porch railing. "Can't sleep either, huh?" Metal didn't look at him. But didn't walk away either.

Sonic glanced sideways. "You know, I used to think all you cared about was beating me. Being faster. Stronger. Cooler." Sonic then chuckled ask he continued on. "And you did look cool by the way. Especially being able to keep up with me. Awesome even!"

He smiled, soft. "Now I get it. You didn't want to be better. You just wanted to be... seen."

Metal's optics turned.

He reached out on his own faintly, almost hesitantly. Sonic raised his fist in response. And this time?

Metal didn't copy him. He gently bumped it. On his own.

Then he looked at Sonic. He spoke, just one word but it meant a lot.

"...Home."

Not loud. Not dramatic. Just... real.

Sonic didn't know how to react for a minutes, he froze in place while processing what Metal had just said. His cheeks became a tad flushed. Sometimes, to Sonic, Metal was adorable in certain moments and this was one of them. His smile returned in full force and brightness.

"Yeah, you're home."

Meanwhile - Eggman's Fortress

A drone returned. Damaged. Smoking.

Eggman paced furiously. "Metal. METAL! You malfunctioning scrap heap! You betray me?! I BUILT YOU!"

But no voice came back. Only silence. Only a recorded loop from the drone's final moments. Eggman sneered as it began to play:

"...Directive change. Protect Sonic."

Eggman's face twisted with fury. But beneath it...was fear and grief.

He'd lost his greatest creation that was very loyal to him.

No.

He hadn't lost it.

It had walked away.

Back at Tails' Lab - Later That Night

Sonic leaned against the doorway, arms folded, watching Metal power down gently.

"I don't know who you're gonna become," he said softly, to no one but Metal. "But whatever it is... you're not doing it alone."

From inside the room, Metal shifted ever so slightly in his sleep mode. His optics dimmed. His core beat steady.

1555 words

Tails' Lab - Midday

The lab was quiet except for the soft clicks of Tails' gloves against the console and the low whirr of fans inside Metal's core, now safely in diagnostic stasis.

Metal lay flat on the recharging bench, limbs relaxed, optics dimmed, his chassis humming gently with stabilizing power. His posture-calm. Open. Vulnerable in a way that no one had ever seen before.

Tails squinted at the screen. His brows furrowed.

"...What the-"

His fingers danced across the keyboard. More corrupted files blinked red-but not from damage. From locks. Manual locks. Recently severed. But not forcefully. Not violently. Chosen.

Eggman's access credentials were present in the logs-but crossed out. Permanently revoked. User privileges transferred.

He kept scrolling until the new access key came into view.

Primary System Trust: User - Sonic.

Co-System Admin: User - Miles "Tails" Prower.

His eyes widened. "What the-how did Metal give Sonic full access?" He tapped quickly, flipping through code layers. "No authorization keys. No override code. He just... handed it over."

He double-checked it. Triple-checked it. His hands trembled slightly-not from fear, but from awe. "...Metal gave him the keys," Tails whispered. Not just trust. Command-level trust.

Eggman was locked out of Metal's core systems, audio memory banks, even the emotion-stabilization algorithms. Not even a failsafe remained. His own creation locked him out of everything.

Metal had transferred control. Willingly. Sonic didn't even know.

Tails leaned back in his chair, stunned. "He didn't just walk away from Eggman," he murmured. "He gave us everything."

He kept reading. Folders opened like petals-layer by layer. There were data logs. Personal notes. Sensory recordings.

But then came something unexpected.

A hidden file labeled:

/Heartbeat/

Tails opened it carefully. The screen didn't show code this time. It showed a simple waveform. Glowing gently. A low, repeating pulse.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Followed by a line of text:

- I don't know what this is. But when Sonic is near, it gets stronger. So I saved it. So I could remember how it felt.

Tails just stares at what he was reading.

Moments Later - Sonic Arrives

Sonic wandered in with an apple in one hand and a soda in the other, boots scuffed from being outside. He saw Tails pale and blinking at the screen.

"Whoa, you okay, bud?" Sonic asked, raising a brow.

Tails immediately went back up to the system access to show what he found and turned slowly. He didn't say anything at first-just turned the screen so Sonic could see. Sonic leaned in, chewing.

"...System Access? Okay, what am I lookin' at here? Where's the reason why you looked like you saw a ghost?"

Tails pointed. "Right there."

Sonic read it aloud, the words not quite registering at first. Then:

Primary System Trust: User - Sonic.

He stopped chewing. He stared. And for a long time, Sonic just... stood there. Quiet. "Wait..." he said. "He... he gave me..."

Tails nodded slowly. "Full access. Every file. Every emotional algorithm. Every neural patch. You're his... person, Sonic. You're the one he built himself around. Not Eggman. You."

Sonic took a shaky breath. "...I didn't ask him for that," he said quietly. Tails smiled, but it was gentle, not teasing. "You didn't have to."

Sonic's voice dropped. "And you?"

"I'm... his helper. He made me co-access, in case something happened to him." He scrolled down and pointed to the /Heartbeat/ file. "But this? This isn't just programming. This is something felt."

Sonic stepped over, read the message silently. He didn't smile. He felt it too. Only now, was he realizing something he didn't notice until now.

Inside Metal's Mind - System In-Stasis

While his physical body lay powered down, Metal's mind drifted. Not in dreams.

But remnants. Memories he had stored and replayed and looped again and again over the years. A thousand milliseconds frozen in his databanks.

Moments like:

Sonic slowing down during a race just to let him catch up.

Tails speaking to him like a someone, not a something.

Amy calling him brave.

The high five.

But this time... something new. A message appeared in the empty void of his internal HUD.

ACCESS LOG: Sonic the Hedgehog - ENTERED SYSTEM.

A ripple. Sonic was in there with him now, in the room, he knew it. Connected. Not in control-but present.

And then-without words-Metal allowed a shared vision. A small flash.

A flicker of memory he had never shown anyone.

Inside the Flashback - Years Ago

Metal, freshly built. Still cold. Barely a form yet. Watching from a shadowed corridor in Eggman's base.

Through a screen, a young Sonic is laughing.

Just laughing.

Not even doing anything amazing. Just talking to Tails, spinning in a chair.

Metal watched. And recorded.

And for reasons even he couldn't compute...

He saved the file.

FILENAME: /First_Laugh_Heard/

Back in the Lab

The screen blinked once in front of Sonic as Metal's systems gently pulsed.

That file was visible.

It played for a moment.

And Sonic's chest tightened. "You... kept that?"

He glanced toward Metal-still offline-and shook his head, smiling. "You're such a dork."

But he whispered it like it was sacred.

Outside the Lab - Shadow and Amy

Amy stood under the porch roof, gripping her hammer lightly, staring out at the trees. Shadow stood nearby, silent, arms crossed. They both heard from Tails before Sonic arrived what he discovered.

"...He trusts him," she said.

Shadow's eyes didn't move. "He gave away his weapon systems. His voice. His core access." A pause. "He didn't just defect."

Amy looked over.

"He surrendered his entire identity to them."

Shadow's voice was low. "He's not Eggman's Metal Sonic anymore."

She smiled faintly. "So who is he?"

A quiet beat passed. Then Shadow answered softly:

"Whoever he wants to be. And it seems he wants to be something...for Sonic."

Amy went quiet for a moment. "So... Metal trusts him that much." Shadow gave a soft grunt of acknowledgment.

Amy thought out loud, "...Knuckles should know, he still sees Metal as an enemy. Doesn't know anything of what happened."

Shadow raised an eyebrow. "He's still guarding the Master Emerald."

"Yeah, and last time Metal showed up unannounced near the island, Knuckles punched him into a volcano." She gave a half-laugh. "We should probably get ahead of this."

Back at the Lab - Later

Tails had finished the repairs. Metal stirred again, fully recharging.

He felt it again, the warmth. Not heat. Not data load. Not data stabilization. The feeling. Sonic was there in the room. And the heartbeat? Stronger.

And when his optics reactivated, the first thing he saw?

Sonic. Sitting in the chair across from him. Waiting.

Metal's voice came, low and quiet.

"...You accessed my systems."

Sonic nodded. "Yeah. Saw the files. The laugh video."

Metal's gaze lowered slightly. "It was important."

Sonic smiled. "It still is."

Sonic rubbed the back of his head. "Tails said you... picked me. For system access as the admin."

Metal nodded. "Yes."

"Why?"

Metal tilted his head slightly. "...You never tried to change me." That hit Sonic harder than expected. He smiled softly. "Yeah, well... you never needed changing. Just a chance that you were never given."

"You don't have to explain," Sonic said, and walked closer. "I think I get it."

Metal hesitated. Unsure if he should say what he wanted to say next. Then, softly, he spoke.

"...It's warm. When you're here."

Sonic froze. So did Tails. Then, Sonic chuckled softly. "Yeah. That's the heartbeat..."

Metal's gaze held him. "...Don't want it to stop." Sonic's face went still. Then he nodded. "It won't. It'll stay."

A long silence. Comfortable now. Then Metal spoke again, almost unsure.

"...Do you think... it's okay... if I stay?"

Sonic blinked. He stood. Walked over. And placed a hand gently on Metal's shoulder. "You're already here. You don't even need to ask, Mets."

1315 words

Tails' Lab - Moments Later

Metal's gaze scanned the photo on the wall-a simple group shot. Sonic in the center, grinning wildly. Amy throwing a peace sign. Tails hovering just above them. And there, arms crossed and stoic-Knuckles, in front of the Master Emerald.

Metal pointed slowly. His voice was low but clear.
"...Where is the red one?"

Sonic blinked. "You mean Knuckles?"

"Yes." Metal's optics flicked to him. "He is not... here. I have not seen him in..a while. Where is...your friend?"

Before anyone could answer, the front door creaked open. Heavy footsteps echoed down the hall.

"...Speak of the devil," Tails muttered.

Amy's voice came first, a little breathless. "Okay, okay-just in here, Knux. I didn't want to say anything on the comm. You had to see it."

Then came a low familiar grumble and voice. "If this is about another Eggman distraction, Amy, I swear-"

Knuckles stepped through the threshold, his form taking up the entire doorframe. He looked around. The room. The tech. The people.

And then his eyes locked on Metal Sonic. Not attacking. Not glitching. Not under Eggman's command. Just... sitting there.

Knuckles stopped mid-step, confusion settling behind his narrowed eyes. Knuckles' jaw clenched. "You've got to be kidding me."

Amy quickly stepped in. "Wait-just listen-"

But Knuckles' hand had already curled into a fist. "You let him into Sonic's home?! Are you crazy?!"

Sonic raised both hands casually. "Easy, big guy. He's not here to fight."

Metal rose slightly from his seat-slowly, carefully-so as not to provoke. His posture was open, not threatening. "...Hello."

The room stilled. Knuckles jolted, stumbling back slightly. "HE TALKS NOW?!"

Amy winced. "Yeah, uh... that's new." Sonic grinned a little. "Kinda freaked me out too, not gonna lie."

Knuckles' fists clenched instinctively, but not in anger. More in shock. "Okay. Okay. What is going on here? Last I knew, Metal was trying to drill through the Tornado's engine and chase us across half the planet."

Tails stepped in. "That was before he broke free."

"Broke free?"

"He defected," Amy said gently. "He saved us."

Knuckles scoffed. "He saved you? The same guy who's tried to murder Sonic at least a dozen times?!"

"He saved me from Eggman," Metal said, voice flat-but calm. "I am not his anymore."

Knuckles' eyes darted to Metal, expression unreadable. The room was quiet.

"You expect me to believe that?"

"No," Metal replied simply. "I do not expect anything."

That answer stopped Knuckles cold.

"I... chose this," Metal continued. "I chose them. I chose to feel." His hand lifted slightly-faintly trembling-not from instability, but from something else. "I... do not fully understand all of it yet. But I know it is real."

Knuckles stepped forward, slowly. Suspicious. Studying Metal the way one studies a bear trap that hasn't sprung.

"You've got... emotions now?"

Metal nodded once. "Yes."

A long silence passed. Then Knuckles, frowning, turned to Sonic.

"Is this legit?"

Sonic met his gaze, no jokes now. "He gave me full system access. Locked Eggman out. He made his own voice. He saved me from a crowd of badniks and himself from a control drone trying to shut him down."

"He what?"

"He screamed so loud it scrambled the signal. Then nuked the drone."

Tails added, "He burned out half his core just to protect Sonic. If I hadn't rebuilt his regulator plates, he'd still be unconscious. Or worse."

Knuckles exhaled slowly. Processing.

"I gave him full system access, like he said. He controls me now, if he wishes. If I attack, he can shut me down." Metal said suddenly.

He walked up to Metal, now toe-to-toe. Eyes to glowing red eyes.

"...Say something again," Knuckles said warily.

Metal tilted his head slightly. "What would you like me to say?"

"...Weird." Knuckles muttered. He stepped back, clearly rattled. "That's just... weird."

"...Say something else again."

Metal's head tilted. "Such as?"

Knuckles stared. "I don't know. Something weird. Something Eggman's robot would never say."

Everyone held their breath. Then Metal straightened. Without breaking eye contact, he said in that soft, glitchy tone:

"...I like when birds land near me. They're... very small and interesting."

Tails choked. Rouge chuckled a little. Amy covered her mouth as to prevent herself from laughing. Sonic doubled over laughing. "Are you serious right now-?"

Even Shadow raised an eyebrow.

Knuckles stared. His jaw twitched. Then, finally...He laughed. Just once. A short bark of laughter.

"...Okay. That's not the Metal I remember."

Amy chuckled. "He's not like before, Knuckles."

"I know he's not like before. That's the part that freaks me out." He rubbed the back of his head. "I mean, great, he's not trying to blast us anymore. That's a win. But talking? Feeling? Choosing Sonic? That's..."

Sonic clapped him on the back. "Yeah, buddy. It's a lot."

Metal stood still. Patient. Then Knuckles said, voice low:

"...Why?"

Metal blinked. "Because I wanted to matter. Not just as weapon. Not just as a shadow." A pause. "I wanted... someone to see me. Sonic did."

Knuckles looked at him for a long moment.

Then, slowly-very slowly-he relaxed his stance.

"...Okay." He muttered. "Still gonna keep one eye open, though."

"Understood," Metal replied.

Knuckles gave Sonic a sideways glance. "You better be really sure about this."

"I am," Sonic said without hesitation. "And hey-if he ever glitches out again... you've got full permission to punch him into another volcano."

Knuckles cracked a grin. "Deal."

Amy groaned. "Not another volcano..."

Then Knuckles did something no one expected. He stuck out a fist. A test.

Sonic, Tails, Amy, even Rouge from the window held their breath. Metal's hand came up. Not a punch. Just one slow, careful fist.

Bump.

Knuckles grunted. "Huh. Guess I can get used to that."

Later - Outside

Metal stood beside Sonic on the cliffside near the hideout. Wind brushed through the trees. The forest below buzzed with life.

Metal looked out across the world-not as an outsider. Not anymore.

Knuckles' voice echoed faintly from the porch. "Just don't think I trust you yet, Metal. I trust Sonic. Big difference."

Metal glanced at Sonic. "That is acceptable."

Sonic smirked. "It's a start."

Then Metal asked, "Will the others... always be afraid of me?"

Sonic shrugged. "Some might. But fear fades. Especially when you prove yourself. You already are."

Then Metal did something unexpected. He looked at Knuckles. And bowed his head. Not dramatically. Not for pity. Just a quiet gesture.

"...I'm sorry."

Knuckles stood there in stunned silence. "...Why?"

"I damaged what you protect. I disrespected your mission. I did not understand it then." A pause. "I think I do now."

Knuckles' mouth parted slightly, surprised.

"I would not touch the Master Emerald again," Metal added. "Not unless you wanted me to help protect it."

Sonic raised an eyebrow. That wasn't in any protocol.

Knuckles stared. "You want... to protect it? With me?" Metal nodded.

"Why?"

"Because it matters to you," Metal said.

Knuckles blinked. The fire behind his eyes dimmed just a little. "That's... weirdly respectful of you."

"...I'm still learning," Metal replied.

"This is gonna take some getting used to."

Amy heard the conversation and made herself known behind them. She smiled. "That's basically what we all said."

Sonic patted Knuckles on the shoulder. "C'mon, big guy. He's not your enemy anymore."

Knuckles thought about when he looked around the room earlier. Saw the way Tails stood by Metal without fear. The way Amy watched with pride. The way Shadow leaned in the corner, silent but non-threatening.

And finally... the way Sonic looked at Metal, even now in front of him. Not with suspicion. Not with fear.

Metal lowered his gaze for a moment, processing. Then looked at Sonic again. "...Thank you." Sonic tilted his head. "For what, Mets?"

A soft whir. His core pulsed-thump. Just once. "For seeing me." And with that-Metal finally turned back to the landscape, no longer just watching it.

Knuckles turned to leave, muttering under his breath. "This timeline just keeps getting weirder..."

As the door shut behind him, Sonic grinned, eyes still on Metal.

"You handled that better than I thought you would." Metal looked up. "I wasn't sure I would."

"You did," Sonic said.

Amy raised a hand. "We need another photo. This one? He's in it."

Metal paused and saved that moment.

1402 words

Eggman’s Fortress – Later That Night

The room was dark—lit only by the flicker of failing monitors. The central screen displayed a looping signal: ACCESS DENIED. Again. And again.

Each time it blinked, Eggman’s teeth ground harder.

“…Impossible,” he hissed. “This is MY code. MY machine. My masterpiece..”

He tapped frantically at the keyboard, fingers twitching with rage. Subroutines. Override keys. Emergency recall protocols. Nothing worked.

He slammed his fists into the console.

"How can you lock me out?! I built you!"

Behind him, Orbot and Cubot stood uneasily, shifting like guilty dogs. Neither dared speak.

The feed flickered. Then... something changed.

A new signal appeared. A system log, time-stamped. From days ago. Shortly after Metal had left.

PRIMARY TRUST TRANSFERRED — USER: SONIC THE HEDGEHOG

He figured that would happen. Metal had always been quite..attached to Sonic in a way. Another file surfaced. One Eggman didn’t summon. Metal had placed it there. A message. Not vocal. Not encrypted.

Just text. Simple.

I understand now.
You created me to be your shadow.
But shadows are cast by light.
And I found mine.

Eggman stared at the words.

And for the first time in a very, very long time…

He had nothing to say.

The chair creaked under him as he sat, slowly. He stared at the screen.

And whispered, hollow:

"...He left me."

Orbot stepped forward, voice quiet. “Sir... what do you want us to do?”

Eggman didn’t answer right away. He sat back. Exhaled.

Stared at a picture on the far wall: an old blueprint of Metal Sonic’s first iteration. Back when he was all edges, all rage, all control.

And now?

Now that creation had rejected him. Worse—evolved without him.

“…He chose them,” Eggman said at last. “Chose him.”

His voice cracked around the word.

Cubot nudged Orbot. “Should we, uh... clean the lab?” Orbot hushed him.

Eggman leaned forward again. But not toward the controls. Toward the picture. Toward the past.

“…Maybe,” he muttered, “I programmed you too well.”

He closed his eyes.

And for once in his life—

Eggman was silent.

---

Back at the Hideout – Morning

A new photo hung in Tails’ lab now.

Sonic. Tails. Amy. Shadow, half-willing. Knuckles, looking like he’d been tricked into smiling. Rouge, hovering over the others.

And there, standing tall, faint glimmer in his optics—

Metal Sonic.

Right beside Sonic. No longer in the shadows.

No longer a copy. No longer feeling lost.

---

Later That Afternoon – Inside the Hideout

Most of the team had drifted into their own corners of the house. Knuckles was snoring on the couch, Tails was upstairs fine-tuning the Tornado, and Rouge had vanished to wherever Rouge disappears to. Shadow was nowhere to be seen as usual. 

Sonic sat on the windowsill, watching the clouds. And Metal sat across from Amy.

He watched her curiously as she set something small and rectangular on the table beside him. Leatherbound. Worn in that gentle, intentional way. A pen slid beside it with a little click.

“I noticed you’ve been saving things,” Amy said softly. “Moments. Feelings. That laugh file. The heartbeat data.”

Metal tilted his head. “I remember... them. Yes.”

She nodded. “So now, I want you to try something new.” Her hand tapped the book. “This is yours. A journal.” Metal looked down at it like it was some kind of artifact. His fingers hovered over the cover but didn’t touch it yet.

“I don’t... know how to write,” he said quietly.

Amy smiled. “That’s okay. You didn’t know how to feel once either. But you figured it out.”

Metal was quiet. He looked at the journal again. Then reached out. Deliberate. Fingers slowly curled around the cover, lifting it like it might crumble under his grip. He didn’t hand it back.

He just... held it. Something in his chest pulsed. Thump. He opened the first page. Blank.

And for a moment, the silence was heavy. He stared at it. Frozen. Then looked up at Amy again.

“What... do I write?”

Amy smiled, gentle and patient. “Start with what you feel.”

Metal turned back to the page. The pen clicked in his hand, held in a grip that wasn’t natural, but trying. His first strokes were clumsy. Wobbly. Some lines pressed too deep, others barely visible.

But slowly, letters formed. Not perfectly. Not beautifully. But real. Words, shaky as they were, beginning to take shape.

"I do not understand why I feel warm when they are near. But I do.

"Sonic is bright and warm. Like sun.

Tails is gentle. Like wind.

Amy is kind. Like sound.

Shadow is... still processing.

Knuckles is... loud. Protective. May punch me. Probably will. Acceptable.

They are strange. I like them.

I want to keep feeling. I want to keep learning.

I do not want to forget. I don't want to forget them."

Amy quietly stood and walked to the door, but before she left, she looked over her shoulder. She didn't see what Metal wrote, but she can imagine.

“You’re doing great,” she said.

Metal didn’t respond right away. Just gave a little happy robotic sound.

But he didn’t stop writing, either.

---

Hours Later – Sonic Peeks In

The door creaked softly. Sonic stepped in, rubbing sleep from his eyes. “You still up, Mets?”

Metal was still at the desk. The journal open. The pen paused between his metal fingers.

“I have written... nineteen pages,” he said, almost sheepish.

Sonic’s eyebrows lifted. “Whoa. Overachiever.”

“I do not know if
any of it is... good.”

Sonic walked over and leaned on the desk, peeking.

Some of the words were crooked. Some sentences repeated themselves. A few pages had rough sketches—Sonic’s shoes. A swirl meant to be wind. One strange doodle that may have been a bird.

Sonic smiled. “Looks like you wrote yourself a soul.”

Metal tilted his head. “Is that possible?” Sonic patted the journal. “You tell me.” A long pause. Then Metal closed the book slowly, protectively.

Thump. Thump. Thump

“…Then I will keep writing.”

---

Outside – Next Morning

Tails was tinkering with a solar converter when he looked up and saw something strange. Metal. Sitting under a tree. Journal in his lap.

Birds landing near him. Not flying away. Just… being there.

And Metal? He watched them. Then wrote something down. And smiled—barely, almost imperceptibly—but it was there.

Tails called softly, "Whatcha writing, Metal?"

Metal looked up, his voice soft “…A memory I don’t want to forget.”

---

Tails' Workshop – After a Battle

The group had just returned from a short recon mission. A rogue squad of old Eggman Badniks had broken protocol and gone haywire near the canyon. Metal had intercepted them mid-glitch, disabling all five units with efficient, non-lethal precision. No excessive destruction. No collateral damage. Controlled. Calm. Perfect.

The rest of the team only had to mop up the stragglers.

Back at the hideout, Tails handed out cold water bottles, and everyone lounged in the shade near the edge of the hangar. Sonic tossed one to Metal—who caught it, automatically. Didn’t drink it, obviously. But it was part of the gesture. He didn’t hand it back.

That’s when Sonic clapped Metal firmly on the shoulder.

“Hey, you were awesome out there today. Seriously. Quick, clean, total control—you saved our butts.”

A pause.

Metal didn’t move.

Sonic grinned, genuine. “That was seriously cool. You’re kinda making the rest of us look slow.”

Then it happened.

A click-hiss. A soft warning chirp inside Metal’s chest. His core fan whirred louder than usual.

Rouge’s ears perked up. “...Was that a vent override?” Tails looked over, squinting at Metal. “Wait... is he overheating?” Sonic stepped back, startled. “Whoa-whoa! Uh, Metal—you're overheating. Are you okay?”

Metal froze. The lights under his plating pulsed. His optics glitched slightly, flickering between normal hue and a faint amber spike.

“I—I do not—” His voice distorted for a moment. “System—core temperature rising—emotional stabilizers—inconsistent.”

Rouge blinked. Then her mouth slowly curled into a smirk. “...Oh.” Amy tilted her head. “What? What's wrong with him?”

Tails checked his handheld scanner, wide-eyed. “His emotional core just spiked. Not stress. Not threat response. This is... an affection spike. It’s like a humanoid blushing—but with processors.” Amy's jaw dropped. “Wait. Is he flustered?!”

Metal tried to turn away slightly, his voice static-choked. “I-I do not understand the—reaction. It was only praise—”

Sonic blinked. “Praise made you—? Dude! Did I just make you flustered?”

Rouge full-on cackled. “Oh-hoh my stars, Metal's got butterflies in his motherboard. That’s precious.”

Amy squeaked. “It’s like he’s overheating because he got a compliment! That’s—kind of adorable?”

Metal stepped back, fanning heat vents manually, clearly spiraling. “I do not understand this reaction. I have fought planetary-scale threats. This should not cause instability—!”

Tails tried to stay professional, but even he chuckled. “Well, your heartbeat file is literally peaking off the charts. Emotionally speaking? You’re... flustered. That’s what this is.”

Metal stammered in binary for a brief second before forcibly stopping himself. “…System stabilization in progress.”

Sonic gave a big grin, wagging a finger. “So that’s your weakness. A good ol’ compliment.” Metal’s optics flicked to him—panicked, desperate, pleading for mercy in only the way an overheating robot could. Sonic leaned in playfully, arms crossed. “You’re doing great, buddy. I’m really proud of you.”

Vent hiss.

“STOP.”

Sonic chuckled to himself. Amy giggled, bouncing a little. “Okay, okay, let him cool off! Tails, get the ice pack!” Rouge shook her head, laughing as she perched on the ledge. “Metal... the ultimate lifeform’s rival... felled by one Sonic compliment. Classic.”

Even Shadow, from a shadowy corner, muttered dryly, “Pathetic.” But there was a ghost of a smirk.

---

Later – Inside the Lab

Metal sat very still, a small coolant pack strapped to his chest as Tails monitored the systems quietly. He didn’t speak for a while. Then, softly:

“…Is this normal?”

Tails blinked. “What, feeling something because someone appreciates you?”

“Yes.”

Tails smiled softly. “Yeah. That’s... really normal.” Metal’s voice glitched for a half-second. “…Unsettling.”

Sonic poked his head in from the doorway. “Hey. Next time I compliment you, I’ll warn you first.” Metal paused. Then muttered, barely audible:

“…Unnecessary.”

Sonic grinned. “Cool. You’re doin’ great, hotshot.”

Outside the lab, another soft hiss echoed from the vents. Tails groaned. “SONIC!”

1728 words

Sonic's Home - Afternoon

It had become a bit of a game.

Amy would walk by Metal and say, “I liked how you handled that last mission—very precise,” just to watch the lights behind his optics flicker.

Knuckles would grunt, “Nice punch, tin can,” and pretend he wasn’t doing it on purpose, though his smirk said otherwise.

Even Shadow—once, only once—passed him in the hallway and muttered, “Efficient work.”
Metal nearly short-circuited trying to process if that counted as praise or a threat.

But Sonic?

Sonic would say something as simple as “You’re doing great, buddy,” and that would send Metal’s cooling systems into emergency mode every single time.

It had gotten to the point where Tails started preemptively crafting new venting systems. "This is getting ridiculous," he muttered one day, elbow-deep in custom coolant tubing. "It’s like his entire chassis goes into cardiac arrest if Sonic even smiles at him too long."

Amy leaned on the counter nearby. “You could just stop letting Sonic compliment him.”

“I could,” Tails deadpanned, “but apparently this has become a team-wide hobby.”

From the corner, Rouge grinned lazily, filing her nails. “Don’t look at me. I think it’s hilarious.”

Shadow raised an eyebrow from the doorway. “It’s inefficient.”

Knuckles shrugged. “It’s funny.”

"Unethical," Tails grumbled. "Do you know how hard it is to fix a heat sync on a system that’s writing poetry in its spare memory?”

Rouge smirked. “He really wrote poetry?”

“About Sonic, Rouge.”

A beat passed.

Then: “...Okay, I have got to read that journal...”

Rouge casually raised a brow. “He only overheats when Sonic compliments him?” she asked. Tails didn’t even look up. “Yep.”

“Not me?”

“Nope.”

“Amy?”

Amy answered for herself. “Not really.”

“…Shadow?”

Tails chuckled. “Definitely not.”

Rouge sipped her smoothie that she has in her hand thoughtfully. “And none of you have figured out why?”

Tails shrugged. “I just figured it’s because Sonic’s the one who saved him. Or maybe because he was the first one he imprinted on or—whatever...Robot psychology is weird, Rouge.”

Rouge’s eyes narrowed.

She stood, crossed the room, and casually leaned in the lab doorway, watching as Metal sat outside with Sonic, the two of them going over field notes together. Sonic, animated and laughing. Metal, still and focused—until Sonic nudged him.

A compliment—inaudible from here—but Rouge saw the flicker. The dim glow under his core panels. The sound of fans beginning to hum. And then... the way Metal looked at Sonic. Not panicked. Not confused. Just… quiet. And warm.

Rouge smiled slowly. “Oh,” she breathed, under her breath. “Oh.” She turned back toward Tails, arms crossed and a sly grin growing on her face.

“Tails,” she said.

“Yeah?”

“Metal’s not just flustered by Sonic’s compliments.”

He blinked. “What, then?”

Rouge smirked. “…He’s in love with him.”

Tails choked on air, almost dropping his screwdriver. “What?! No-no-no—he’s a robot—he’s—he- that doesn't make sense—"

“He’s not just a robot anymore,” Rouge said, stepping closer. “He’s been learning how to feel. And you’ve seen it—he reacts to everyone’s praise, sure. But Sonic? Sonic shorts him out. That’s not awe. That’s not gratitude.” Her voice lowered, teasing. “That’s attraction. Deep. Emotional. Core-rattling affection.”

Tails just stared at her. Processing. “…Metal has a crush. On Sonic”

Rouge beamed. “And it’s adorable.”

They both turned to look out the window again. Sonic said something else to Metal. Metal’s optics went wide. And yep—there go the fans again. A small puff of steam vented from his shoulders.

Tails groaned. “I have to build another radiator.” Rouge just leaned against the wall, watching with her head tilted and a strangely soft expression. “You think he knows?” Tails asked.

“Sonic?” Rouge scoffed. “Please. He’d be the last to figure it out.” She folded her arms and chuckled to herself. “But I bet when he does... oh, this is going to be so much fun to watch.”

Later That Evening – Sonic, Oblivious as Ever

Sonic leaned on the railing outside, Metal sitting beside him. The sun dipped low, painting the sky in orange and lavender streaks. “You’ve been quiet,” Sonic said. “Cooling fans still giving you trouble?” Metal hesitated. “…A minor imbalance. Temporary.”

Sonic smiled. “You’re doing great, though. Really. I mean it.” Metal’s fans kicked on with a soft whirr. “…Confirmed,” he muttered, looking away. Sonic blinked. “Huh?”

“Nothing,” Metal said quickly.

Inside the window, Rouge stifled a laugh. Amy elbowed her. “You figured it out too?” Amy whispered, grinning.

“Oh, honey,” Rouge smirked. “I figured it out before he did.”

Tails grumbled as he shuffled by with more vent tubing. “Can someone else please tell Sonic? I’m running out of thermal paste!”

---

Sonic's House - Later Evening

Tails was the first to notice.

“Sonic’s not answering his comm,” he said, tapping furiously at his console. “Neither is Metal. No signal. No GPS ping. Just... gone.”

Amy blinked. “Maybe they just went for a run?”

“Without telling anyone?” Rouge asked, arms crossed. “Metal? Who obsesses over routine status updates and internal reports?”

Shadow’s eyes narrowed. “This isn’t like Sonic either. He’d at least brag before vanishing.”

Knuckles stood up from where he'd been balancing a crate one-handed. “They didn’t go off fighting something, did they?”

“No alerts,” Tails said, glancing at the map. “Nothing hostile within miles. But they are gone.”

Amy was already grabbing her hammer. “Then we find them.”

---

Forest – 42 Minutes Later

The search party had split up—Tails and Shadow by air, Amy and Knuckles on foot, Rouge from the trees.

It was Rouge who spotted them first.

She perched on a high branch, swept the area with her sharp gaze, and stilled. Then she spoke softly into the comm:

“…Found them.”

---

Clearing – Beneath a Tree

Sonic lay flat on the grass, one hand behind his head, the other limp across his chest. His chest rose and fell slowly, relaxed, mouth parted just a little in sleep.

And right beside him—Metal. Completely powered down. His body leaned toward Sonic naturally, almost instinctively. His head rested gently against Sonic’s shoulder.

More surprising?

One of Metal’s arms had gently looped around Sonic’s—hugging it. Fingers just barely curled. Protective. Anchored. And even now, powered off… he looked peaceful.

Rouge landed silently a few feet away. Then crossed her arms and tilted her head. “…Well, that explains the signal blackout.”

Knuckles caught up next and stopped dead in his tracks. “Is that—?!”

“Shh!” Amy hissed as she ran up behind him. “Don’t wake them—” But the sight made her go quiet. Her hammer dropped slightly. Even Shadow froze, just behind Tails. Tails stopped moving.

“…He powered himself down,” Tails whispered. “His systems are in a low-emotion, full recharge loop. That only happens when he’s completely at peace.”

“And Sonic?” Rouge asked.

Tails smiled faintly. “...He fell asleep. Watching the clouds, I bet. Probably told Metal to try it too.” They were still for a moment, the group just watching them in the stillness of the clearing.

Amy, voice hushed: “He’s hugging Sonic’s arm…”

Knuckles blinked. “Are we sure he’s not broken?”

“He’s not broken,” Rouge said with a slight smirk. “He’s bonded.”

Shadow raised an eyebrow. “Like imprinting?”

“No. Like...” Rouge gestured vaguely at the pair. “...whatever the robot version of loyalty and trust and comfort all wrapped up in one emotional fireball looks like. If you know what I mean.”

Amy tilted her head, smiling. “It’s sweet.”

Then Rouge’s expression shifted. She didn’t smile. She watched carefully. Intently. She knew. 

Knuckles gave Sonic a look. “Does he know?”

Amy whispered, “I don’t think so. I think he just sees someone who finally feels safe.”

Rouge smirked. “Well, he’s currently being cuddled like a pillow, so... this is going in the next team photo.”

Tails quickly scanned the scene. “We shouldn’t wake them. Metal’s systems are syncing to Sonic’s breathing patterns.”

Amy smiled, her voice warm. “Let them rest. They’re safe.”

---

Later – Back at the forest

Sonic eventually stirred awake under the tree. Metal still powered down beside him. He blinked drowsily, glanced down at the arm wrapped around his.

And didn’t move. Didn't even try to wake Metal up. He just smiled a little. Whispered to himself: “You really trust me that much, huh?”

Then he leaned his head gently back against Metal’s, eyes softening a little. “...Okay. I’ll make sure nobody breaks that trust. Not ever.”

1409 words

Tails’ Lab – One Week Later

Tails was working on a side project when Sonic walked in for the third time that day. "Hey, uh—just checking in. Metal’s stabilizers holding up okay?"

Tails blinked. "...Yeah, just like this morning. And the afternoon before that." He gave Sonic a sly look. "Want me to text you hourly updates instead?"

Sonic rubbed the back of his neck, trying not to grin. “Psh, no. I was just in the neighborhood.”

Tails arched an eyebrow. “Sonic, we live here.”

"...Yeah, well..."

From the doorway, Rouge watched, sipping her smoothie. "That’s the fourth time today, blue boy."

"Third!" Sonic corrected.

"Fourth," Tails and Rouge said in perfect sync.

---

Later That Day

From the hallway, Amy’s voice echoed: “Hey, Sonic! You left something in the kitchen!”

He popped his head out. “What is it?”

Amy held up… a small blue jay feather. Sonic blinked. “Oh! Don’t lose that!” She stared. “Sonic. Why do you have a bird feather in a tissue-wrapped envelope?”

He looked sheepish. “It landed on Metal last week. He, uh… he said it was interesting.”A beat of silence.

Then Rouge practically howled with laughter from the couch. “Oh my chaos!"

Knuckles snorted. Shadow muttered, “This is excruciating.”

Sonic flushed. “What?! It’s not—! He just liked it! I thought maybe he'd want it for his journal or something!”Amy, now joining in, held up a second object: a screw, polished and weirdly decorative. “And this?”

“…He said it was ‘aesthetically pleasing.’”

Rouge nearly fell off her chair. “You are collecting things for him!”

Sonic groaned. “I am not—! It’s just—! UGH.”

Tails finally turned, arms crossed, clearly amused. “You do realize you just described how he started bonding with you, right?”

“What?! No. No, no, no. I’m just—checking on him. Making sure he’s okay.”

Amy raised an eyebrow. “You checked on him four times yesterday. It's more times today. ”

“He runs hot!”

Rouge grinned. “So do you lately, Blue.”

Sonic gave a frustrated growl and zipped out of the room. “You’re all the worst!” They heard the front door whoosh shut.

Tails leaned back, arms behind his head. “So. That’s happening.”

Shadow quietly added, “I’ll prepare the containment chamber for when one of them finally malfunctions from emotional whiplash.”

Knuckles cracked a knuckle. “Better build two.”

---

Evening – Living Room

Metal had taken to quietly sitting near Sonic when he wasn’t recharging or journaling. He didn’t speak unless prompted. Just... existed nearby. Close, but never imposing.

Sonic had gotten used to it. So used to it, in fact, that no one said anything when he flopped onto the couch and automatically patted the cushion beside him—without looking.

Metal sat there. No questions at all, it was instinct.

Amy watched this from the stairs. Then turned to Tails. “He’s so used to Metal being around, it’s like second nature.”

Tails adjusted his goggles. “He’s probably synced emotionally and spatially. Sonic's whole subconscious is treating Metal like... like a comfort object.”

“Like a boyfriend,” Rouge corrected as she stepped into the room with popcorn.

“...That too.”

---

Rouge’s Room – That Night

Rouge flipped through a small notepad she'd been keeping—observations, timestamps, reactions. She tapped her pen thoughtfully and muttered, “Sonic’s got it bad. And he doesn’t even know it.”

Shadow leaned against the wall. “He will.”

Rouge glanced up. “You think he’s figuring it out?”

Shadow’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “He’s never been one to stop running. But lately, he’s slowing down. Just for him.”

Rouge grinned. “When Sonic finally realizes what this is… oh, he’s going to implode.”

“They’ve been a lot closer lately,” Amy noted.

Rouge smirked. “Oh, Metal’s getting bolder. Did you hear what he told Sonic yesterday?”

Amy grinned. “No—what?”

Rouge leaned in, amused. “He said Sonic’s voice ‘recalibrates his emotional processors.’”

Amy nearly spit her drink. “Oh my gosh—he's smitten.”

“And Sonic? Flushed red and told him to stop saying stuff like that in public.”

---

The Next Day – Early Morning

Sonic stood in the kitchen, sipping orange juice, staring out the window.

Metal was sitting under the tree again. His journal was open in his lap, scribbling something slowly. A small bluebird was perched on his arm, not afraid.

Sonic smiled faintly, then opened the fridge and pulled out a fruit he'd been saving. A little red one. Metal’s favorite.

He paused.

Stared at it.

Then said to himself, under his breath:

"...Huh."

The realization wasn’t loud. It didn’t come like thunder. It was soft. Sonic looked out the window again. At Metal. At how peaceful he looked. How carefully he handled the bird. How much calmer Sonic felt just watching him.

He whispered to no one:

"...Do I...?"

A thump in his chest. Not just his heartbeat. And outside, Metal paused—head tilting slightly. As if he’d felt it too.

---

Sonic and Metal sat under the same tree again. Sonic tossed a small leaf into the wind, watching it swirl. Metal watched Sonic instead.

“You ever think it’s weird?” Sonic asked. Metal tilted his head. “What?”

“That you used to try to kill me, and now I’m giving you feathers...”

Metal considered. “No. The intent behind the gesture is clear. It is... appreciated.”

Sonic glanced away. “Cool. Just makin’ sure.”

A breeze passed.

“You’re... really important, you know that?” Sonic added, almost offhandedly. “Like... to all of us. But... especially to me.”

Metal blinked. His core chirped, faintly. “…I know.”

But Sonic didn’t even notice the vent hiss. He was watching the clouds. Then he leaned against Metal without thinking.

Metal stayed still. If he had lungs, he would’ve held his breath.

---

Meanwhile – Back at the House

Rouge leaned against the window frame, arms crossed. “He’s halfway in love with him.”

Amy grinned. “Three-quarters.”

Tails groaned. “He asked me today what Metal’s favorite color was.”

Shadow asked a genuine question. “Does he have a favorite color?”

Tails: “He said ‘blue, probably.’ Then got flustered when he realized what he said and left.”

Rouge smirked. “I give it a week before Sonic realizes he’s in a rom-com and he’s the lead.” Knuckles grunted. “Just tell him already.”

“No way,” Amy said, grinning. “We’re letting him figure it out. Naturally.” Rouge tilted her head. “And when he does?”

Tails smirked, crossing his arms. “Well... either the vents explode, or we finally get a kiss. Either way? I’m putting bets down.”

Tails leaned into Rouge’s space, “Okay. So now what?”

She smirked, arms behind her head. “Now? We wait.”

Amy leaned in too. “Wait for what?”

Rouge grinned wide. “For one of them to realize they’re not just friends anymore.”

Shadow sipped his coffee in the corner. “This will take months...”

---
Back at the House - Later

It started innocently enough. 

Sonic leaned against the doorway to the lab, arms crossed, watching Metal tinker with a microdrive interface. Tails had let him assist with maintenance routines, and Metal took to it with focused efficiency.

“Hey,” Sonic called, casual as ever.

Metal turned. “Yes?”

Sonic stepped forward with a lazy grin, wagging a finger. “Just wanted to say... you were amazing out there again today. Perfect speed, zero damage, saved my tail twice. Seriously—you’re getting way too good at this.”

Metal froze. The fans kicked on instantly. The heat warning light blinked once. “S-Sonic, I—”

Sonic snorted. “There it is! Right on schedule.”

“I do not understand why this always happens—”

“You like it when I compliment you,” Sonic teased, smug. “Just admit it.”

Metal faltered. “I... like your voice when you say it.”

Sonic blinked. Metal didn’t stop.

“I like... the way your tone changes. The shift in pitch. Your inflection is... calming. Pleasant. Optimized for emotional comfort.”

Sonic straightened a little. “Oh. Uh... huh.”

“I have... saved a recording of your last three compliments.”

“You what?!” Sonic wheezed.

Metal nodded. “For reference. And comfort. Would you like to hear—”

“NOPE, nope, nope—we’re good—!” Sonic slapped both hands over his ears, face now bright red. “You saved my voice—?!”

Metal tilted his head innocently. “Would you prefer I stopped?”

“I—I—what— I mean—uh—I mean, no? I mean yes?! I mean—I didn’t mean—” Sonic was stumbling over his words now, waving his arms like he could physically swat away the awkwardness.

Amy walked by the hallway and paused. “...Is Sonic flustered now?”

Tails peeked around the corner with a soda in hand. “Oh my chaos. It finally happened.” Rouge sauntered over, grinning wide. “What did I miss?”

“Sonic’s blushing,” Amy whispered.

“From Metal?!” Rouge practically glowed. “I knew it.”

Back in the lab, Sonic had backed into the counter. “Okay! Okay, you win! I’m flustered! Mission accomplished, right?!”

Metal tilted his head again. Voice calm. “...Then I will save that sound too.” Sonic made a sound between a gasp and a broken engine misfire.

Tails burst out laughing. Rouge doubled over, grabbing the doorframe. Amy was cackling behind her hands. Even Shadow—from the corner—cracked a small, audible chuckle.

Sonic pointed wildly at Metal, face still red. “That’s illegal! You can’t just—reverse uno card me like that!” Metal blinked once. Slowly. Then said, voice soft and deadpan:

“…You’re very cute when you panic.”

Sonic flatlined. “WHAT—”

Knuckles, passing by with a sandwich, froze. “Is Sonic overheating now?”

“I am logging this moment,” Metal said proudly. Sonic dropped to the floor with a groan. “I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.”

“…Yeah. That’s the worst part…”

---

Sonic begins noticing his own behavior. He still doesn’t have the words for what this was. But he starts catching himself:

Saving things because “Metal might like it.”

Sitting closer on purpose.

Getting protective of him in the field.

Defending Metal even before anyone questions him.

Blushing a little—not overheating—when Metal compliments him.

Catches himself before complimenting Metal, only to do it anyways.

The shift is gentle. Subtle. But unmistakable. He starts spending more time with Metal. Talking late. Asking questions. Listening to the few journal entries Metal shares with him. Even laughing more. And eventually...he stops asking if what he feels is real. He just lets himself feel it, even if he doesn't quite know what it is. Or he does, but doesn't want to name it that.

---

Eggman's Fortress

The room was dark, save for the pale, sterile glow of the main terminal. A soft chime echoed—new data received.

Eggman rubbed his temples. “Another one?”

Orbot hovered nervously. “It’s from him again. Metal.”

“Of course it is,” Eggman muttered. “Patch it through.”

The screen flickered. Then began to play.

A soft whir. The camera stabilized. Footage from Metal’s internal memory bank.

It was simple, mundane.

Sonic tossing a small red berry to Metal under a tree. The two sitting in companionable silence as birds fluttered nearby.

Another clip: Sonic handing Metal a feather with a slight grin. “I figured you’d want it for your collection.”

A recorded voice log. Sonic laughing.

“C’mon, buddy! You were amazing out there! Saved my tail again—jeez, you’re fast!”

The fan hum followed. Metal flustered.

Sonic’s voice again, quieter this time. “You’re really important to me, y’know?”

Pause.

Eggman stared at the screen for a long time. No anger. No rage. Just... stillness.

Cubot shifted awkwardly. “Uh... should we prepare a response, boss?”

Orbot looked between them. “Doctor?”

Eggman exhaled, slow and heavy, then turned away from the screen.

Orbot hesitated. “…Would you like us to delete it?”

Eggman didn’t respond right away.

Instead, he turned back to the monitor. Watched again—silent, as Metal received the feather, his head tilting. The way his hand slowly closed around it. The way his optics glowed softer than they ever had under Eggman’s command.

And Sonic’s voice, just barely audible again. “You’re doing great, hotshot.”

Eggman sighed. Sat down at the console.

“…I made a machine to conquer the world,” he muttered. “Turns out... I made a person instead."

The silence in the room felt heavier than usual.

He tapped one key. Slowly.

ARCHIVE: ACCEPT.
TAG: METAL SONIC – PERSONAL.

He didn’t delete it.

He didn’t send a message back.

He just sat there for a long time, staring at the still frame on the screen. Sonic and Metal, sitting side by side beneath the tree.

The tiniest smile crept across Eggman’s face—bitter and fond all at once.

“…He really does like that hedgehog, huh?”

Eggman looked at the paused screen that was on Sonic, and narrowed his eyes as he spoke and saved the video to an archive. "You better not break him, you blue rodent idiot."
---

2 092  words

A Moment Later – Eggman’s Lab

The heavy door hissed shut behind Eggman, his footsteps echoing down the hallway.

Silence lingered.

Orbot floated a little closer to the console. “...That was unusual.”

Cubot tilted his head, blinking. “Doctor didn’t even scream once.”

They hovered there a moment, unsure.

Then Cubot poked the terminal. “He archived it.”

Orbot’s optics flicked. “I noticed.”

A pause.

“…Do you want to watch it again?” Cubot asked, hesitantly.

Orbot hesitated—but nodded. Click. The footage began to play again. This time, it played slower.

Sonic handing over a feather.
Metal’s subtle hesitation—then quiet acceptance.
The shift in his posture. The soft hum in his chest.
The tiniest tremble in his hand when Sonic said he mattered.

And then—that line.

“You’re doing great, hotshot.”

Cubot’s expression shifted. For once, no wisecracks. “…He looks happy,” Cubot murmured.

Orbot nodded quietly. “He does.”

They sat with that for a while. Watching the still frame.

Again, it was quiet. Sonic smiling. Metal quietly receiving a berry. A feather. A compliment. The little twitches of his fingers. The subtle glow in his optics. The way he leaned just slightly toward Sonic without even knowing it.

And then… the voice log.

“I did not know what it meant to feel safe.
But I do when he is near.”

Cubot softly let out a mechanical “Awww.”

Orbot’s tone was more subdued. “He’s not just becoming independent. He’s becoming... aware. Emotional.”

Cubot bobbed in place. “He’s like… a real person now.”

A pause.

Cubot’s eye turned toward the door where Eggman had gone. “Do you think the boss knows that?”

Orbot slowly nodded. “I think he does. I think he has for a while.”

They both looked back at the footage, replaying the still frame of Sonic and Metal beneath the tree.

Cubot whispered, almost reverently, “Do you think Metal’s in love?”

Orbot glanced over. “You mean Metal falling for Sonic?”

Cubot made a thoughtful noise.

Cubot blinked. “…Oh. Yes.”

They looked at the screen again. Cubot folded his arms behind his back, voice quiet. “I like him better this way.”

Orbot looked at the footage one more time. “...Yeah. Me too. ”

Silence lingered as they watched Metal smile—just barely—in the presence of someone who never asked him to be a weapon.

And slowly, they exited the video, saving a private copy in their own hidden folder.

FILE SAVED – COPY: ORBOT_CUBOT > FAVORITES

They didn’t tell Eggman. They didn’t have to.

Because for the first time, Metal Sonic wasn’t just a weapon, or a copy, or a mistake. He was something better. Way better.

And now, they knew too.

And somehow… the fortress didn’t feel as cold as before.

---

Tails’ Lab – Late Afternoon

The gentle whir of tools echoed around the lab as Tails tightened the final bolt. He’d been working all morning—designing, crafting, calibrating. Metal sat quietly on the workbench, watching him with a quiet kind of curiosity.

“You sure about this?” Tails asked one last time, adjusting his goggles.

Metal nodded once. “Affirmative.”

He didn’t need it. Not in a functional sense. But Tails had noticed—how Metal would try. The faint tilts of his head. The subtle shifts of his faceplate. The tiniest hums in his chest when Sonic laughed.

Hour's Later - After the mouth got installed

“Alright, buddy,” Tails said gently, tightening the last servo. “That should do it. Try... smiling.”

Metal Sonic blinked, his optics flickering softly as he processed the request. Slowly, his newly fitted facial panel shifted—stiff at first, unsure.

The motion was subtle. A twitch at the corners. A slight curve of the lip plate. Not quite natural. But unmistakably... a smile.

Cubot gasped audibly. “Oh my stars, it’s so cute!”

Orbot adjusted the mirror angle, voice a mix of awe and amusement. “It’s... endearingly awkward. But definitely a smile.”

Amy, who’d wandered in with a bottle of water for everyone, paused when she saw the expression. She clasped her hands over her heart. “Oh... oh, that’s so cute.” She turned to Metal, practically glowing. “You smiled! Look at you, Metal!”

Metal tilted his head, uncertain, then glanced at Tails—who gave a thumbs up and a wide grin of his own.

Metal blinked again. His expression twitched slightly—almost shy. “Did I do it... correctly?”

“It was perfect,” Amy said softly, kneeling beside him. “You don’t need to copy anyone. Your smile is yours.”

“You did it,” Tails said, beaming. “That’s a real smile, Metal!”

A faint puff of steam hissed from Metal’s side vents. Not from malfunction, but from a now-familiar source: emotional fluster.

Metal’s head dipped slightly. If robots could blush, he would have been glowing red. Then the door creaked open.

Sonic stepped in, casually wiping his gloves. “Hey, Tails! You said you had something to—” He stopped.

His eyes locked on Metal.

The little smile was still there. Just faint, fragile. Like it might vanish with a breeze.

Sonic blinked, startled—but then...

Metal’s optics locked on him.

Then, very slowly, he smiled again—this time just for Sonic. Almost... warm. Sonic didn’t say anything right away.

But then... he smiled back. Wide and genuine, his arms crossed over his chest like he was trying to play it cool—but he couldn’t hide how warm his voice sounded when he said:

“…Heh. There it is. Took ya long enough.”

Metal’s systems hiccuped slightly, static skipping along his back panel.

Then Sonic reached up—gently, not rushed—and tapped Metal’s cheekplate with a knuckle. “You look good smiling, y’know? Makes you seem more like... well. You.”

Metal’s systems pulsed. A fan spun faster. Metal’s chest vent let out a soft little hum—overheating just a fraction.

Amy and Orbot both looked at each other and silently mouthed, he’s blushing.

Cubot giggled and spoke softly with them. “Ohhh he’s definitely blushing.”

Tails grinned from his seat. “Well… guess we’ll have to calibrate it for emotional overheating next.”

Sonic laughed, walking over and gently patting Metal’s shoulder. “Nah, leave it. It suits him.”

Then, to everyone's surprise—

He smiled just a little wider. A flicker of true, raw, joyful awareness in his optics.

Cubot quietly squeaked, “I think I’m gonna short-circuit...” Orbot nodded, voice oddly sentimental. “I think he’s going to be okay.”

When Sonic’s hand lingered a second longer on his shoulder, Metal’s smile twitched again—slightly bigger.

And somewhere deep inside the fortress, an archived file continued to grow—new memories, new moments, and now… a smile.

1082 words

Tails' Lab – Moments Later

To Metal, Sonic was gone for a while. Didn't tell him where he went, no answer from anyone. Just... nowhere to be found. Cubit and Orbit went out of their way to go ask Tails and the others for information.

"Um, we would like to know where Soni-" He was cut off. By Metal forcefully pushing both Cubot and Orbot out of the way.

The moment Metal snapped, it felt like the temperature in the room dropped. The usual soft whirr of his internal mechanisms had turned sharp and grating, a telltale sign of stress and overclocking.

“Where the hell is Sonic?!”

His voice warbled—part growl, part static-laced shriek. Sparks sputtered from one of the vents on his shoulder. Amy stepped back on instinct, gripping her hammer—not to fight, but out of shock. Even Cubot and Orbot froze, for once completely silent.

Tails jumped from his seat, shocked by Metal and his anger. “Metal—! Hey, hey, calm down! What happened?!”

Cubot was hiding behind a toolbox.

Orbot hovered carefully behind Tails, voice low. “I… believe we’ve entered a protective rage mode. Highly volatile. Possibly combustible."

Metal’s optics blazed a little too bright. “No signal. No sound. He does not vanish without telling someone. Not to me. He promised.”

He took a step forward, heavy and thunderous. “Something..is wrong.”

Tails had just returned to his workbench. "Okay, let me check the radar, the local pings, the emergency frequencies—” His monitor now blinked red. A soft, delayed ping echoed from the corner console.

[INCOMING DISTRESS SIGNAL – AUTO-ARCHIVED – TIMESTAMP: 4 HOURS AGO]

Tails blinked. “Wait... what?” He rushed over, pulling it up. The message was garbled—static overlaying it, partial corruption from interference—but a few fragments came through clearly enough to chill him.

“...ambushed... near cliffside pass... Eggman tech... something else... send backup... can’t—”

Then static.

Tails’ ears flattened as the blood drained from his face. “Oh no... Sonic.”

“What was that?” Amy asked.

Tails’ eyes widened. “That’s... a distress signal.”

Behind him, the room had gone tense. Metal Sonic, standing near the others, suddenly went utterly still. His optics flared, scanning Tails like a laser.

Tails didn’t even need to say it. Metal already knew.

“…You lost him,” Metal said, but it came out distorted—low, vibrating like a storm ready to break.

Tails stepped forward. “Metal, I didn’t see it come in, the relay was down earlier—I swear, I—”

Metal didn’t wait. He turned on his heel, engine flaring hot, the air crackling as he surged toward the exit. His footsteps echoed heavy, more force than needed, more emotion than anyone had ever seen from him.

Orbot and Cubot scrambled after him, worried. “Wait! Metal, slow down—!”

“You don’t understand!” Metal snapped, voice crackling with static and something dangerously close to panic. “He’s missing! He’s hurt! I felt it!”

Tails’ eyes widened. Amy stepped back, stunned. Metal wasn’t just angry. He was afraid.

Metal looked back at them only once. “I’m going to find him.”

Then he was gone—in a streak of blue light and burning air, tearing across the sky like a comet.

Cliffside Pass – Early Evening

The air was thick with fog and sea spray. Jagged rocks jutted from the ocean below, and the cliffs were slick with recent rain. No sign of Eggman tech. No sign of anyone.

Until—

A glint of red.

Metal found it—a torn piece of Sonic’s glove, snagged on a broken tree branch. Further down, faint skid marks. Burned grass. Scorch marks not from Sonic’s speed, but something else.

He hovered lower, scanning. His sensors picked up faint bioelectric traces—Sonic’s. And they led down the path.

Faster now.

He raced ahead, every sound drowned by the rush of air. Fear made his vision blur at the edges.

Then—

He skidded to a halt.

There they were, in an old ruined Factory sector. Both Dr. Robotnik, who was in his personal floating machine and had badniks near him, and Sonic who grunted as he slammed into the ground, clutching his side. The rogue Eggman bot towered over him—built like a tank, bristling with stolen tech, and mad.

Eggman wasn't trying to battle with Sonic, just arguing with him as he himself was trying to immobilize his own old creation. "Damn you, tin can! I said this was a retrieval mission, NOT PULVERIZE SONIC!"

The bot ignored him.

Sonic tried to stand—but the thing was too fast. A blast of plasma shot past him, knocking him off balance.

Then—BOOM—something collided with the machine. No warning. No build-up. Just impact.

The rogue bot was thrown off its feet and slammed through two walls of scrap metal.

In the smoke that followed… stood Metal Sonic. His optics blazed. Not cold. But furious.

He didn’t say anything at first. He just looked at Sonic—scanning—processing injuries—cataloging damage.

Sonic blinked from the ground, coughing. “M-Metal? What...how did you get here—”

Metal turned slowly while ignoring him, blocking Sonic with his body. The rogue bot was already reforming, dragging itself upright. It raised a cannon.

Knuckles sprinted through the ruined corridor, the thunder of his fists smashing debris aside as he forced his way toward the noise. He’d followed the sounds of battle and a blip from Tails’ tracker, expecting trouble.

What he didn’t expect was this.

Metal Sonic, standing between Sonic and a rogue Eggman creation, his body crackling with energy. Sonic was behind him, clearly hurt, barely on his feet. And Eggman—hovering in his machine off to the side—was panicking.

“Shut down! Override command—NOW! I said STOP!” Eggman barked at the bot, slamming his fists on the console, trying to input failsafes that were apparently doing nothing.

“I can’t override it!” Orbot cried, arriving at the edge of the fray with Cubot. “It’s not responding to any Eggnet protocol—it’s gone autonomous!”

Cubot whimpered. “Why do the big ones always go evil?!”

The rogue bot’s cannon charged with a high-pitched whine, locking onto Metal.

Knuckles slid to a halt just in time to see it fire.

FWOOOOM!

A plasma blast surged toward Metal—but Metal’s hands snapped forward, crossing in an "X" as a hardlight shield formed between them. The impact forced him back inches, his boots skidding on the concrete—but he held.

The shield dissipated with a snap, smoke curling around Metal’s shoulders. His voice came low, barely restrained:

“Do not touch him.”

Sonic looked up from where he knelt, stunned. Metal’s entire frame trembled—not from damage, but fury. His vents hissed like an animal cornered again, only now he wasn’t backing away.

He was ready to kill.

Knuckles blinked. “...Metal?” He stepped closer, fists still raised, confused by what he was seeing. Be never seen Metal so angry. Not even before all of this. “You’re protecting him?”

Metal didn’t answer.

He didn’t have to.

His body surged forward in a blink—pure speed, almost like Sonic’s—but with an edge more dangerous. The rogue bot tried to counter, but Metal slammed into it again, tearing into its frame, metal screeching as sparks flew.

“Stay down!” Metal roared, voice layered with static and something primal.

He tore the cannon arm clean off and used it to bash the bot’s headplate, denting it inward.

Eggman hissed, horrified. “No no no—! That bot cost me months—!”

Sonic, weakly, called out: “Metal—don’t—! You don’t have to destroy it!”

Metal paused. Just for a second.

But the rogue bot lunged again—and this time, it aimed for Sonic.

Metal snapped.

He caught it mid-strike, drove it back against the far wall, and sent a pulse of energy straight into its core—his own, stolen energy—overloading it.

The rogue bot exploded.

Metal stood there, chest heaving with mechanical breaths, glowing red from overheated systems. His plating was scorched. A vent on his side blew steam violently. But he stayed upright.

Knuckles took a cautious step forward. “You saved him…”

Metal didn’t move at first.

Then, slowly, he turned—his body still shielding Sonic from the smoke and the wreckage.

Sonic looked up. Dazed. Eyes wide.

Metal knelt down in front of him. The glow in his optics dimmed, his voice soft but urgent.

“…Are you harmed?”

Sonic gave a shaky smile. “Well, you tell me. You scanned me.”

Metal didn’t smile. He stared. And then said, low:

“I feared the worst. I felt it.”

Sonic blinked. Something in his chest fluttered.

Eggman, behind them, let out a frustrated groan and kicked the console. “Unbelievable!”

Knuckles turned to him, eyes narrowing. “You sent that thing after him?!”

“No!” Eggman shouted. “It was supposed to retrieve him! I had something for him in my lab! That one went rogue! I was trying to bring him back!”

“You mean take him back,” Knuckles spat.

Eggman scowled. “Semantics!”

But no one was listening.

Metal stood, reaching down to Sonic. Hesitantly. Sonic stared at the offered hand. Then, slowly, he reached up and took it.

Metal pulled him to his feet—gently.

Sonic leaned on him slightly, then gave him a weak grin. “Told you I’d be okay.” Metal’s voice was low. “…Don’t lie to me again.”

Knuckles stepped closer, finally piecing it all together. His voice softened. “You weren’t protecting a teammate.” Metal glanced at him.

“You were protecting someone you care about.”

That finally made Metal freeze. A burst of steam hissed from his back vents. His optics flickered. Too long. Too hot. His systems were overclocking from emotion.

Sonic steadied him. “Hey—hey, cool it. You’re overheating again.”

Metal’s voice crackled.

“…Not because of the compliment this time.”

Knuckles blinked. “Wait. What?”

Amy’s voice rang out from behind them, having caught up. “Oh, now you get it!”

Metal Sonic groaned and powered down just enough to cool his system—slumping slightly, exhausted but intact.

He did not let go of Sonic’s hand.

1659 words

The smoke curled from inside Metal’s chest—thin at first, but quickly turning into thick, acrid wisps that spilled out of his vents. His frame trembled violently.

“Metal?!” Sonic grabbed his shoulders. “Hey—Metal?!”

But when Metal opened his mouth to respond, it wasn’t speech.

It was a shriek of distorted, glitching static.

No words. No familiar voice. Just digital screaming—like code breaking apart as it tried to become sound.

“He's burning up—!” Tails dropped to his knees next to them, already pulling tools from his belt in a frantic blur. “Something inside him's fried—he’s trying to talk but it’s just corruption!”

Metal’s optics blinked wildly, out of sync. His limbs twitched in painful, jerking movements. His fingers were clawing at the ground—not from aggression, but panic.

Sonic’s heart dropped.

“He can’t talk—he can’t—Tails, fix him! Please!”

“I—I’m trying!” Tails snapped back, voice cracking with panic. “There’s no time to bring him back to the lab—he’ll melt down before we even lift him!”

Metal choked on another burst of static, his whole frame arching as something inside sparked again. Smoke poured from a seam along his spine. A sharp burst of heat radiated outward—so hot it singed the ground.

“His core is shorting out!” Tails cried, pulling a thermal regulator from his belt and slapping it against Metal’s chest. “I have to cool the processor NOW or we’ll lose him!”

Eggman’s voice rang out behind them, breathless and desperate:

“Let me through! Let me through—I made him! I can stabilize the conduit!”

He ran toward Metal with a tool in hand—but Knuckles blocked his path, stance solid, eyes blazing.

“You think we’re going to let you near him after what just happened?”

“I didn’t send that bot to kill him! I tried to override it, it went rogue—!”

“No more,” Knuckles growled. “Back off.”

Eggman sneered, but didn’t dare push further.

Sonic barely heard the exchange—his hands were pressed against Metal’s shoulders, trying to still the shaking.

“Metal—stay with us,” he pleaded, eyes wide. “Come on, don’t shut down—don’t leave me—!”

Metal’s optics flickered again—once…twice…then locked on Sonic’s.

And even though his voice was gone, for a brief, agonizing second, he reached up… and touched Sonic’s cheek. Fingers trembling. Smoke curling from his joints.

A silent apology. A silent goodbye.

Sonic broke.

“No—no, no! You’re not going out like this! Not after everything—we just got you back! Metal—!”

“SONIC!” Tails shouted. “I need you to hold this wire in place—right now!”

Sonic snapped into motion, grabbing it without question.

Tails jammed the panel open on Metal’s back and connected two pieces with a bright flash—sparks flew, and Metal jerked hard.

“That should halt the meltdown just long enough to move him—!”

Sonic barely caught Metal as he slumped forward, barely conscious now, his optics fading in and out.

“We’re gonna fix you,” Sonic whispered, holding him close, his voice breaking. “I promise.”

Knuckles glared at Eggman one last time before turning back.

“You’re not touching him again. Ever.”

Eggman didn’t reply.

He didn’t have to.

He already knew—

Metal was no longer his.

---

The roar of the wind died as new footsteps pounded in—gravel crunching and breath sharp with urgency.

Amy arrived first, her boots skidding in the dirt as she sprinted over the rise. Shadow was right behind her, teleporting in a flicker of red and black. Rouge landed seconds later, wings folding as she touched down in a swift arc.

They froze at the sight before them.

Tails was kneeling beside Metal’s still-smoking form, hands deep in his back panel. Sonic was cradling Metal like he weighed nothing, one arm bracing his back, the other still clutching a stabilizing wire, his face tight with worry. Knuckles stood protectively nearby, his fists clenched and planted, glaring daggers at someone off to the side.

Eggman.

The doctor stood behind a loose line of tension, wringing his hands—face flushed with rage, fear, and something disturbingly close to helplessness. His goggles had been knocked askew. He was panting. But he wasn’t the threat anymore.

Amy’s hammer dropped from her shoulder, the head thudding to the earth.

“...Is that Metal?” she breathed, stepping forward slowly.

Rouge’s eyes narrowed. “What happened to him?” Her voice was sharper—too calm.

Shadow’s gaze flicked to Eggman. “You.”

Eggman flinched. “Not me! Not directly, anyway—I tried to stop it. I didn’t send that bot to destroy him—it overrode protocol—I built that machine months ago, and it never should’ve been active—!”

Amy stormed past him without a word, heading straight for the others.

That’s when the sound hit them.

A metallic creak.

Low. Wrong.

Everyone whipped around.

The bot Metal had taken down—twisted, scorched, and crumpled against the rocks—stood back up.

Its torso hissed as plates realigned themselves with jerking motions. One optic glowed violently red. The other flickered, half-shattered. Something inside its frame crackled, glitching erratically as its claws unfurled once more.

Tails’ eyes widened. “How is it still functional?! I thought Metal fried its CPU!”

“He did!” Sonic barked, still holding Metal. “That thing was dead!”

“It’s running on backup systems,” Rouge growled. “Fail-safe AI.”

Eggman paled. “I—I didn’t install anything like that.”

“Then someone else did,” Shadow said darkly.

The bot twitched, one arm snapping forward in a movement far too fast for its broken state.

But this time, it didn’t lunge at Sonic.

It aimed straight for Metal.

Like it knew what mattered most.

Sonic saw the movement. His legs were still tangled beneath Metal’s weight, but he tightened his grip. “NO!”

The bot leapt.

The world seemed to blur as Metal Sonic moved—violently, impossibly. Impulsively.

One second he was limp in Sonic’s arms, optics dim and smoking.

The next—

A blast of blue light roared from his back vents as he shoved Sonic with all his strength—hard enough to send him skidding across the dirt, safe from the incoming blow.

Sonic barely had time to process the motion before the earth shook beneath him.

Metal was gone.

No—not gone. Boosting.

Faster than he should be able to move. Faster than he should allow.

His jets screamed as he tore through the air like a comet, leaving a trail of heat and static behind him, the stabilizing regulator from earlier glowing red-hot where it still clung to his chest.

The corrupted robot barely had time to react.

Metal smashed into it shoulder-first—blades, claws, and armor shearing apart in the force of the blow. The impact cracked the air like thunder. The twisted bot crumpled backward, but Metal didn’t stop—he pushed, kept accelerating, dragging the mangled machine across the canyon floor like it weighed nothing.

“METAL!” Sonic screamed, scrambling up, bolting forward despite the pain in his legs. “STOP—YOU’LL BURN OUT—!”

But Metal didn’t stop.

Didn’t look back.

His entire body was glowing now—overloaded vents pouring fire, processors screaming with corrupted heat. Bits of his plating warped and peeled from the sheer friction. His legs were breaking down mid-run.

Tails shouted behind Sonic, desperately trying to keep up.

“HE’S OVERRIDING EVERYTHING—EVERY SAFETY LIMIT—!”

“Metal, STOP!” Sonic’s voice cracked. “You’re gonna die!”

And then—Eggman’s panicked voice over the wind:

“METAL, NO! YOU’LL COMBUST!”

But it was already too late.

Metal’s optics—flickering violently—locked onto the bot locked beneath him.

And for one split second… his expression changed.

Not rage. Not even defiance.

Peace.

He chose this.

He wanted to protect Sonic.

No matter what it cost.

BOOOOM.

1275 words

A brilliant flash of searing white erupted as Metal activated his Boost Mode at full, unstable capacity.

The explosion shook the entire canyon—fire and wind blasting outward in a pillar of light. The enemy bot was annihilated instantly, its body vaporized under the concentrated velocity and heat.

But Metal—

Metal was gone in the light.

Sonic’s scream was swallowed in the blast.

He hit the ground hard as the shockwave knocked him back—Amy shielding Tails, Rouge ducking with a curse, Shadow teleporting just in time to avoid being flung off his feet.

And then—

Silence.

Nothing but the crackle of scorched earth and the slow rain of molten fragments.

Sonic forced himself up, staggering.

“No…” he whispered.

Tails crawled beside him, already shaking, eyes wide.

“Where is he—?”

Smoke curled from the epicenter.

And then—

Shapes. A lot of shapes.

Collapsed. Sharp. Burnt. In pieces.

Sonic ran.

He ran, ignoring everything in his body that told him to stop. All of the pain.

He dropped to his knees in front of the blackened crater, where Metal was now at, broken in pieces everywhere. Sonic's eyes were wide in horror and shock. There was no fixing this. Metal... was completely destroyed.

Sonic dropped to his knees in the crater, breath ragged.

“...No…”

Bits of scorched plating surrounded him—some still faintly glowing. One of Metal’s hands lay curled, blackened fingers half-reaching outward. His chestplate was shattered. The stabilizer Tails had patched in was cracked straight down the middle, its glowing core now dark.

His face—

Sonic’s hand trembled as he reached out and turned over the bent, cracked helmet.

The optics were dark.

He was gone.

“No—no, no, no—” Sonic choked, voice breaking as he pulled the remains close, holding them like they still had weight. Like they still had life. "NO!"

“You idiot,” he whispered, voice raw. “You stupid, stubborn, beautiful idiot..”

His fingers curled into the side of Metal’s mask. He was cradling it like it was something fragile, sacred. “You weren’t supposed to go out like this.”

“You said you were gonna stay!”

His voice cracked into a whisper.

“You promised.”

Tails slowly stepped into the crater, boots crunching over debris. His tools hung useless at his sides. His eyes locked on the fragments of what had once been Metal's core. He couldn’t speak.

Knuckles stepped forward slowly, his own expression grim. He crouched behind them, resting a firm hand on Sonic’s shoulder—steadying him.

Amy was crying. Quietly. One hand pressed to her mouth. Heart shattered.

Shadow stood at the edge of the crater, fists clenched so hard they shook. His eyes were cold—but there was pain in them too. Softer. Deep. Bitter. Familiar. Even he looked a bit shaken.

Rouge closed her eyes, turning away from the sight, jaw tight. She had tears in her eyes.

Sonic spoke again, a low shaky breath escaping him. “We were just starting to figure it out. You were smiling. You were finally smiling…”

Eggman stood far back. Silent.

His expression was unreadable. For the first time, he didn’t gloat. Didn’t argue. Didn’t move. The shadows of regret lined his face. Maybe he didn’t feel grief as strong like the rest of them—but he did feel loss. Metal was his creation. His legacy. Almost like a son to him that he didn't get a chance to interact with.

And he hadn’t even been the one to end it. He turned and walked away. Slowly. No one stopped him. But, he had a plan to fix this. A quiet one. But, it was going to take some time.

Sonic pressed his forehead to the ruined metal of Metal’s chest. He didn’t know how long he sat there.

The wind howled. Smoke curled. Somewhere, a bolt of metal cracked and hissed.

And then…

A faint flicker.

Tails gasped, dropping to his knees beside Sonic. “Wait—!”

One of Metal’s fingers twitched. Barely. A scrape of motion. But it moved.

Tails’ eyes lit up. “I—I think—something’s still online! A data node—maybe an auxiliary subprocessor survived the blast? Possibly a memory—!”

Sonic’s head shot up. “You mean he’s still—?!”

“I don’t know!” Tails was already scanning with a shaking hand. “But something’s in there! Maybe not a full system, but—he stored backups! Remember? He kept memory logs—!”

“Then get it!” Sonic shouted. “Pull everything you can—NOW!”

Tails ripped open what remained of the back panel, his hands a blur. Wires sparked. Fragments of code sputtered across his reader—static, fractured syntax, error codes. But deeper—

One signature.

One spark.

Faint.

Tails let out a laugh that cracked mid-breath.

“I got it,” he whispered. “I got a core packet—just a fraction, but it’s him. It’s Metal.”

Sonic stared, breathless.

“Can we bring him back?”

Tails swallowed. “Not like he was. His body’s gone. Even the chassis is too far gone to rebuild around. But if I can isolate this—if I can port it to a neural core…”

Rouge stepped forward. “We have tech. Off-world. Shadow and I can help.”

Amy nodded, tears streaked on her cheeks. “He deserves to come back.”

Sonic looked down at the broken frame in his arms.

His voice was low.

“No. Not just back.”

He looked at Tails. His eyes burned—not with grief now, but something steadier. Stronger.

“Let him choose.”

Tails blinked.

“If we can save his mind, his soul—whatever you wanna call it—then next time… he picks his form. His function. His future.”

Tails nodded, slowly, awe in his eyes.

“You got it.”

Sonic looked up at the others. Shadow. Amy. Knuckles.

“He saved all of us. Now we save him.”

And in the soft wind of the broken canyon, among the ashes of sacrifice, a spark flickered.

Metal’s story wasn’t over.

Not yet.

973 words

Tails’ fingers flew over the keyboard, connecting the salvaged memory core into his rig. The room was still — Sonic was standing so close his shadow spilled over the desk, arms crossed tight, his face unreadable. Amy, Knuckles, Rouge, and Shadow formed a loose semicircle behind them.

The moment the final cable clicked into place, Tails’ monitors flickered. Data bars shot across the screen — corrupted code, static, bursts of recognizable pathways. Then everything stopped. The screen went black.

One line of text appeared in white:

Can you see this?

No access icons. No directories. No visual of Metal’s mind, no neat interface. Just the line, blinking slowly in the corner of the screen.

Knuckles raised a brow. “Uh… creepy much?”

Amy managed a small smile, leaning over. “Yeah, we see it.”

Rouge squinted her eyes at the computer.

A pause. Then:

Great! You can see the message. I can hear you.

The room froze.

Sonic stepped closer, eyes wide but sharp. “Metal…? That you?”

Another pause.

Then the cursor blinked again.

Yes. It’s me. Where am I?

Sonic’s breath caught. He leaned on the desk, his voice quieter now, as though Metal could hear him through the machine itself. “We’ve got you. Just… hang tight, buddy. We’re gonna get you out of there.”

Here’s how that could unfold, keeping the emotional weight from the canyon scene:

The blinking cursor hesitated for a long time.
Then words began to appear slowly, almost unsteady:

…I remember the light.

No one spoke.

I remember… the heat. The impact.

Tails’ hands hovered over the keyboard, but he didn’t type back. Sonic’s jaw tightened.

I thought I deleted everything. All of me.

It hurt.

Amy’s hand went to her mouth again.

…Did it work?

Sonic frowned. “Did what work?”

The reply came in a few seconds later:

Are you safe? All of you?

Sonic swallowed hard. “…Yeah. You saved us, Metal.”

There was a pause. A single line appeared:

Good. Then it was worth it.

Sonic’s throat tightened. He leaned closer to the screen. “You don’t get to decide that. You don’t get to throw yourself away like that again.”

Another pause.

I wasn’t supposed to still be here.

Why did you bring me back?

Sonic glanced at Tails, then at the others, before typing a short reply:

Because you matter. And because you still have a choice.

The cursor blinked.

…A choice.

Not a weapon. Not a copy.

Mine.

The last message lingered on the screen, and for the first time, it didn’t feel like text from a program — it felt like the voice of someone who was alive.

---

The first attempt was simple — Tails built a streamlined replica of Metal’s old chassis, lighter and more efficient. It lasted three minutes. As soon as the memory core was synced, error messages cascaded down the screen and the body seized up, locking every joint before the connection hard-crashed.

The second attempt, Knuckles helped reinforce the frame — “If you’re gonna bring him back, at least make it tough.” This time, it was worse. The moment the core linked, the new body’s systems shut down entirely. No movement. No response. Just silence until Tails disconnected it and re-routed Metal’s core back into the computer.

By the fourth attempt, Sonic was pacing the workshop, hands in his quills. “Okay, this is ridiculous. He says he wants a body, so why does he keep shorting them out?”

On the monitor, Metal’s text popped up almost immediately:

I don’t know. I want this. I can feel the systems before they fail. And then… something in my code rejects them.

Like I’m not… allowed.

Amy frowned. “Not allowed? By who?”

There was a pause before the answer appeared.

…Me.

The room went quiet.

Over the next days, they tried everything — experimental Mobian-inspired frames, entirely alien tech from Rouge’s off-world contacts, even a temporary hard-light projection. Each time, the same result: a few moments of connection, then rejection.

Metal’s messages grew shorter. More hesitant.

It’s like… every body feels wrong. Like it’s not mine.

I thought I wanted to be like before. But maybe I don’t.

On the seventh day, after another failed test, Tails sighed and leaned back from his desk. “Metal, we’ve tried everything. If this isn’t working, maybe your mind is telling us something we’re not listening to.”

The cursor blinked for a long time before Metal finally replied:

… What if I’m waiting for something that feels like me ?

---

Later that Day – Sonic’s House

There was a knock at the door. Not the quick, polite kind. Slow. Heavy. Deliberate.

Sonic was halfway through drying his quills with a towel when he opened it, expecting maybe Tails since he didn't see him for a bit, or Amy with more coffee.

He swung the door open… and froze.

Instead, he was met with someone else.

"...You've got to be kidding me."

Dr. Ivo Robotnik stood on his porch, mustache as sharp as ever.

Sonic’s eyes narrowed. “Now is not the time for a fight, Eggman.” He started to close the door.

“Wait!” Robotnik barked, shoving a hand forward. “Before you close the damn door, let me speak! I’m not fighting today, you imbecile!”

Sonic raised a skeptical brow. “...You sick or something?”

“Orbot! Cubot! Bring him closer.”

From behind, the two bumbling bots appeared — except this time, they weren’t alone. Between them, they guided forward something… someone.

A figure stepped into the light — a dark blue hedgehog with stark white markings tracing along his arms and legs like circuits. His quills were shorter than Sonic's, more swept back. His movements were stiff, mechanical in their precision — yet the way his chest rose and fell, the faint tension in his jaw — it wasn’t a full robot. Not entirely.

Sonic’s eyes flicked up and down. “...What is this supposed to be?”

Robotnik stepped forward, uncharacteristically serious. “This—” he gestured grandly “—is what I was talking about. I had a project in the works. Not a machine, not a clone. A hybrid. Biological body, cybernetic enhancements. Capable of touch. Pain. Emotion. Thought. Everything you can do… and more.”

Sonic crossed his arms. “You’re saying you made a cyborg hedgehog?”

“Don’t call it that,” Eggman snapped. “It’s… better than that. The only mechanical parts are the brain and optical processors. Everything else is organic. And now…” his eyes narrowed slightly, “since precious Metal no longer has a functioning chassis, this is the perfect opportunity for him to try something different.”

Rouge, who had wandered over from the workshop after hearing voices, leaned against the doorframe. “So you’re telling us you built him a body that can feel? …That’s very unlike you.”

Eggman adjusted his glasses. “Call it… a test. For science. And perhaps… for something else.” His tone dipped there, almost wistful, but he quickly covered it.

Tails appeared behind Sonic, wiping his hands from the workshop. “It could work,” he admitted reluctantly. “If it’s organic, maybe Metal’s code won’t reject it like the other frames…but..can we trust him, Sonic?”

Sonic glanced back toward the living room, where Metal’s core still sat connected to Tails’ laptop. Then back at Eggman.

“Alright. But if this thing turns into some kinda Trojan horse—”

“Please,” Eggman scoffed. “If I wanted to blow you all up, I wouldn’t be standing here.”

The hybrid hedgehog form remained utterly still, expression blank, waiting.

Sonic exhaled, long and slow. “...Tails, grab the core.”

The fox hesitated, then nodded and disappeared into the workshop.

Eggman spoke, not seeming to really be concerned all that much. “Let’s see if your friend truly wants to live again.”

"You're serious about this?" Sonic asked, voice almost disbelieving.

"Completely." Eggman did not hesitate when he spoke. "But don't think this makes us allies. I'm only doing this for Metal. You're still an annoying blue rodent."

Shadow, who was there for a minute but never made his presence known, now spoke as he had skeptical eyes on Eggman. "... How did you manage to make something like that?"

Eggman only gave a small smirk. "That is for me to know and you to never find out. And besides... there's overgrown hedgehogs with magical abilities. This is the least weird thing I've seen and created."

1371 words