Chapter Text
Shadow massaged his temple slowly, frustration building with each sentence he read in the letter. After a sigh, he picked up the piece of paper again, placing his head in his hand. He continued reading.
…the punishment was flogging.
He paused again, putting the letter down for the nth time, running a gloved hand down his face.
It was only the first day, and Rouge already reported a god damn flogging. And of course it was Sonic. Who else would it be?
In a twisted way, Shadow was relieved he’d sent Rouge to the camp. One more day with Infinite in charge and Sonic might’ve been dead.
The letter had arrived earlier that morning, meaning the flogging had happened nearly a week ago. Worry stirred in Shadow’s chest, his mind filled with the memory of Sonic’s stupidly bright, green eyes. He wondered if the light in them had dulled, if the hedgehog’s boundless energy had been drained by pain and fever. The first week of healing was always the worst, the feverish nights, fear of infection, the dull ache that spread through every muscle. Shadow clenched his fists, restless.
Yes, Sonic’s defiance was punishable, but flogging seemed excessive for something as trivial as talking back. If it had been any other athlete, Shadow might have let Infinite off with a warning and moved on. But it was Sonic. Of course it was Sonic.
And maybe that made twenty lashes worth it. Though that idiot probably fainted after the tenth one.
Shadow picked the letter up again with a frustrated growl.
Blue is recovering well, and the brave Spartan warrior is watching over him…
Shadow’s brow arched. Brave? Spartan? Warrior?
He had sent Rouge to the camp to keep order, to make sure everything ran smoothly. Not to let some Spartan brute play guardian over Sonic. His jaw tightened as his eyes lingered on the words. The irritation simmered in his chest, hot and restless, but there was no one to voice it to. Rouge would only laugh if she knew, and the thought made him grit his teeth harder.
His eyes fell on the blueprints scattered across the desk, and for a moment he let them crumple under his hand. Plans for the arena; plans that would turn a place meant for sport into a stage for slaughter.
He had grown up in these places, sitting beside his father as the crowd roared. He had seen blood spilled, bones broken, champions crowned and buried in the sand. To him it had always been… nothing. A pastime.
So why now did it feel wrong? Why did it feel personal?
Emerald eyes flashed in his mind again. Sharp, calculating, alive.
And those lips, snarky, unrelenting, smirking even when pinned.
Shadow groaned, burying his burning face in his hands. What kind of spell had this infuriating hedgehog cast on him? One meeting, and already he couldn’t shake him. Maybe he should just kill Sonic himself in the arena. End this nonsense. Stop these thoughts before they hollowed him out completely.
But he couldn’t even picture it.
The blue hedgehog, bloodied under him, eyes dull—
No.
Shadow’s breath hitched, chest tightening as he forced the image from his mind. He refused to picture it, refused to see those bright eyes go lifeless.
Nothing felt right anymore. Not the plans, not the games, not himself.
Shadow pushed himself away from the desk and crossed the room, opening the window. Night air spilled in, sharp and cold, but even that didn’t clear his mind. Olympia lay somewhere beyond those hills, far away, dark and waiting.
In a couple of week’s time, he would be there, walking the grounds, inspecting the arena, training until his muscles screamed. Staying in the heart of the city, far away from the camp, away from him.
At least, that was the plan.
Rouge would scold him if she caught him roaming the training grounds without discretion. She’d remind him of the risk, of how disastrous it would be if someone pieced together who he really was. The Roman guards wouldn’t be an issue; they were sworn to obey him. The Greeks, however, would see blood. And with the arena likely to be set on those very grounds, it would only take one rumor to turn training into a battlefield.
But even now, with the letter still warm in his hand, he could picture it so clearly, standing just far enough away, hidden in shadow, watching Sonic move.
Pathetic.
Shadow’s hand tightened on the windowsill until the wood creaked.
Maybe, by the time he reached Olympia, the thought of Sonic would have dulled. Maybe the roar of the crowd would drown it out.
But he knew better.
Even now, with the palace silent and the night still young, those green eyes haunted him every time he blinked.
And for the first time since he was a boy, the thought of stepping into the arena filled him with something dangerously close to dread.
✦ ✦ ✦
The first time Shadow saw Sonic after their first encounter had been foolish. Almost entirely an accident.
The road to town lay in the opposite direction. He’d passed it hours ago after arriving in Olympia, yet here he was, standing on a lonely hill overlooking the scattered lanterns of the Greek training camp.
Just one look.
He told himself he wasn’t going to approach, just observe from a distance, assure himself the hedgehog was alive and well, and move on.
But then came the sound of feet, light but impossibly fast, rustling the grass ahead. His hand went to the lantern on his saddle, snuffing the light with one flick. Darkness settled in like a second skin.
He dismounted quietly, boots crunching softly against the dirt, and followed the sound uphill. Whoever it was had heard him, he could tell from the sudden pause, then the frantic scuffle to hide.
Probably an athlete. Shadow exhaled silently through his nose.
“I know you’re there.”
He circled wide, coming up from the opposite direction, steps noiseless as a phantom. He reached the top of the hill just as a dagger flashed in the moonlight.
Too slow.
He caught the wrist, twisting it aside, the blade falling into the grass with a muted thud. His other arm pinned the stranger against a tree, only to catch a flash of blue fur under the starlight.
Sonic.
Shadow’s chest tightened. For a moment, the forest seemed to hold its breath. His hand shifted automatically, cushioning Sonic’s back from the tree bark. The position felt achingly familiar, a cruel joke from the gods, as though fate enjoyed throwing them together like this.
Their exchange had been brief, full of barbs and half-meant words. Shadow tried to detach himself, but Sonic’s every glare and every snark-laced remark chipped away at his restraint. He left that night feeling more unsettled than when he’d come.
The second time was worse.
Shadow had just left Rouge’s tent, slipping past the crowded high-traffic area before they could start asking questions or worse, recognize him. He kept to the edge of the camp, intending to head straight to the woods, until he turned a corner and froze.
Sonic stood behind the crude wooden frame of the bathing hut, water still clinging to his fur in glistening beads. His quills were plastered back, darker where they were soaked, each strand catching the pale light like strands of ink brushed with silver. Droplets ran down his shoulders, tracing the line of his chest before disappearing into the dirt below, leaving dark little marks in the dust.
He held his tunic clumsily against himself, as though it were some flimsy shield, his grip tight but useless, one slip and it would fall. The moonlight painted every curve of his form in sharp contrast, from the arch of his collarbone to the taut muscle of his legs.
Shadow’s jaw tensed. His crimson eyes followed the trail of a droplet as it slid down Sonic’s muzzle and fell silently to the earth. It was infuriating how easily the sight of him could freeze him in place, how something as simple as wet fur could catch him off guard.
He forced his expression back into its usual neutrality, the weight of his cloak grounding him as he stepped forward with slow, deliberate calm, like nothing had rattled him at all.
The moment their eyes met, Sonic gave a strangled little sound, a half shout, half squeak, and clutched the tunic tighter.
“You… you pervert,” he hissed, trying to keep his voice quiet enough not to draw the guards.
Shadow arched a brow. “I’ve seen you bare before. There’s nothing to hide.”
Sonic flushed a deep crimson, the tips of his ears burning. The tunic slipped slightly in his grip, threatening to drop entirely. His hands trembled, more from embarrassment than cold.
“I hate… you,” Sonic muttered through clenched teeth, though his voice shook.
Shadow’s expression softened almost imperceptibly. Slowly, he stepped forward and reached for a clean linen cloth hanging nearby. Without a word, he draped it carefully around Sonic’s shoulders, the gesture deliberate, unthreatening.
“I didn’t notice you there,” Shadow said quietly. “I… apologize.” The words came clipped, as if dragged out of him by force.
Sonic blinked up at him, still scowling, though his eyes shone wet, from bathwater, Shadow told himself, not tears. “Yeah, well… whatever.”
A droplet slid from Sonic’s lashes, glinting in the moonlight before disappearing into the dirt.
“Aren’t you supposed to be in the dining hall?” Shadow asked, breaking the quiet. Rouge’s report had been clear; at this hour, the athletes should be eating.
Sonic hesitated, hugging the linen tighter around himself. “I don’t like bathing with everyone.”
“So you skip dinner?”
“I just finish faster,” Sonic corrected, a defensive edge in his voice.
Shadow only hummed, studying him. This was a side of Sonic he hadn’t seen before, small, hesitant, vulnerable. Very unlike the cocky performer who had once stood before him, unafraid to strip under the candlelight of the inn.
“I know what you’re thinking,” Sonic said suddenly, glaring. “You think because I’m a whore I’m used to this. Used to being stared at.”
“I did not—”
“It’s different, okay?” Sonic cut him off, his voice cracking slightly. “When it’s the auction, I know what’s going to happen. I know I’m supposed to be humiliated, supposed to play along. But when I bathe…” He trailed off, trembling. “When I bathe I just want to own myself for once.”
The words hit Shadow harder than he expected.
“I understand,” he said quietly. And he meant it.
Sonic stared at him for a long moment, ears flicking, before letting out a slow breath. “…Yeah.”
“You must be cold,” Shadow said at last, voice softened to something almost gentle. “Get back to your tent.”
“And you’re leaving,” Sonic muttered, not a question.
“I’m not supposed to be here.”
Sonic sighed, eyes on the ground, clutching the linen tighter. “Alright.”
By the time he turned back to look, Shadow was already gone.
Shadow didn’t look back until he was far from the camp, an oil lamp swaying from the saddle as his horse carried him back toward town. The night air was cold, sharp in his lungs, but it did little to settle the heat that still burned under his skin.
He gripped the reins a little tighter.
Ridiculous.
He’d seen athletes bathe before, gladiators bleed in the sand, men fight to the death for sport, yet the image of Sonic, dripping under the moonlight, clutching that tunic like a lifeline, refused to leave his mind.
Every hoofbeat sounded too loud, like it echoed his own thoughts.
He told himself it didn’t matter. He told himself he was only checking on him to keep him alive long enough before dying honorably in the arena. And yet, somewhere between the trees and the road back to Olympia, he stopped believing it.
When he reached the villa where he was staying, Shadow dismounted without a word to his servants, stalking toward his quarters with an expression carved from stone. But once alone, he braced his hands against the table, head low.
This was a mistake.
The third time they crossed paths, it was no accident.
Sonic was at the edge of the camp, alone, the sun kissing his fur orange. The clearing was quiet except for the faint sound of blades sinking into hay dummies. His stance had improved, his legs planted firmly, arms straight, throwing knives flying smooth and steady. Each throw landed closer to the center than the last, and though his form wasn’t perfect, there was focus in him now. Determination.
Shadow stood behind a tree, one shoulder leaning to the bark, far enough to stay hidden from the patrolling soldiers, but close enough to watch Sonic’s every movement. His eyes lingered as Sonic prepared another throw, shoulders rolling, spine bending in just the right way before letting the knife fly. It was infuriatingly mesmerizing, seeing him so absorbed, so unguarded.
He’d told himself these visits were for Rouge, for the sake of monitoring the camp, but every time his gaze found Sonic, something in his chest tightened. There was a strange satisfaction in watching him like this, wild and unchained, so different from the obedient, calculating figure he’d seen in the amphitheater that night.
Shadow’s eyes narrowed. Maybe it was time to accept there was something here, whatever this was, gnawing at him.
“You like what you see, creep?”
The voice came sharp from the field. Sonic didn’t look back, didn’t miss a throw, but Shadow knew it was aimed at him.
He didn’t flinch. Of course Sonic had noticed him by now.
Shadow stepped forward. The next thing he heard was the hiss of a blade through air, the throwing knife whistling past his ear before burying itself into the bark just inches from his head.
His crimson eyes flashed as they met Sonic’s across the field.
“Oops,” Sonic said sweetly, turning to face him at last. His grin was all teeth. “I was aiming for your face.”
No, he wasn’t. That had been deliberate. Precise.
They stood like that, locked in a silent standoff, until Shadow turned to leave, the way he always did.
“You’re a creep, you know that?” Sonic’s voice followed, sharp and mocking. “A fucking creep! You might as well watch me while I sleep!”
Shadow stopped in his tracks and gritted his teeth, the taunts getting to him. He knew that the hedgehog was riling him up to get him to stay.
Fine.
He’d stay.
In the blink of an eye, Sonic found himself yanked behind one of the tents, his back hitting the wooden post hard enough to rattle the frame. His breath caught in his throat.
Shadow loomed over him, not physically touching anymore, but it felt like the air itself had become heavier, thick and oppressive. Sonic’s quills bristled involuntarily, instinct screaming danger. It wasn’t just that Shadow was fast. It was how he moved, how the world seemed to tilt for a second, like time had skipped forward and left Sonic behind.
“Yeah?” Shadow’s voice was low, velvet wrapped around steel. A whisper that still made the ground beneath Sonic feel unsteady.
Sonic’s breath came quick, chest heaving as though he’d been running. “What did you just do?”
Shadow didn’t answer at first. His crimson eyes stayed on Sonic, unblinking, glinting like fresh blood under the setting sun. A smirk tugged faintly at the corner of his mouth.
“You’re not the fastest thing alive,” he said finally, his tone a quiet taunt.
Sonic blinked, stunned. “No. You… you didn’t run.”
“Maybe I’m just that fast,” Shadow replied, voice smooth, almost bored, but the air between them stayed heavy, charged.
“That’s not possible.” Sonic’s voice dropped, like he was talking to himself now. “I would’ve heard you.”
“Would you?” Shadow stepped closer, just enough for Sonic’s back to press fully against the tent pole. The space between them was now barely there, his shadow swallowing Sonic whole.
For a long moment, they didn’t move. Sonic’s fingers tightened around the hilt of his dagger, but even he knew he wouldn’t be able to use it.
“Relax,” Shadow murmured, though there was command in his tone.
Sonic bared his teeth, defiant even as his body screamed to stay still. “You think telling me to ‘relax’ is gonna work?”
Shadow raised a hand, bracing it against the post near Sonic’s head. He didn’t touch him, but he didn’t need to. The weight of his presence pinned Sonic in place just as effectively.
“I’m not here to hurt you,” Shadow said, his voice softer now.
Sonic swallowed, his glare flickering. “Then what the hell was that?”
“You were about to make a scene,” Shadow said simply. “To make me stay.”
“I wasn’t,” Sonic snapped.
Shadow tilted his head, eyes almost glowing under his hood. “You were,” he whispered, bending down, close enough for their lips to touch.
“Stop caging me in every time you have the chance.” Sonic tried to make space, putting his hand up and pushing Shadow’s sturdy body.
Shadow’s eye twitched. “Then stop being such an idiot.”
Sonic softened, the tension from earlier slowly dissipating with their banter. “You’re the idiot!”
“And why is that?”
“You—” Sonic pushed again, surprisingly managing to force Shadow back a step. Shadow’s eyes widened at the strength, but he didn’t resist
“You stalk me,” Sonic accused, his words rushing out now. “You watch me through the trees, spy from Rouge’s office… and when I finally talk to you, you just—leave.”
Shadow’s expression didn’t move, but something in the air between them shifted.
“What do you want from me?” Sonic’s voice dropped, quiet now, almost pleading. “You tease me, you watch me, then you’re gone. You’re like—” His throat bobbed as he swallowed. “Like a shadow.”
The name hit him like a blow. Shadow’s jaw clenched tight, his chest rising slowly, deliberately. Did Sonic know? Was this deliberate? Or was the hedgehog just that infuriatingly good at getting under his skin?
He stepped forward again, closing the distance Sonic had just made. “Why does it bother you so much?”
Sonic glared up at him, ears pinned back. “Because I trust you too much. And I don’t even know why.”
Shadow’s fists curled tight at his sides. He hated how true the words sounded.
“You shouldn’t,” he said at last, the warning sharp.
“That’s the problem!” Sonic snapped, his frustration cracking through. “I don’t question your motives, or why you’re even here, or what you’re doing with Rouge, because I trust you. And it’s killing me.”
For a moment, neither spoke. Shadow’s gaze was locked on him, unreadable, though his breathing had slowed to something measured, controlled.
“You make me—” Shadow cut himself off, his voice dropping lower, more dangerous. “Forget it.”
Sonic frowned, tilting his head, trying to read him
“Go back to your tent,” Shadow said finally, stepping back, tone clipped, final.
But Sonic didn’t move. “And if I don’t?”
Shadow’s eyes narrowed, his presence spilling over Sonic like a physical weight, suffocating and inescapable. “Then I make you.”
But this time, it was Sonic who moved. He stepped into the shadow instead of away from it, his hands rising, hesitant at first, then firmly cupping Shadow’s face.
“Erebus.”
The name wasn’t real, even Sonic knew it, but the way he spoke it, slow and deliberate, like a secret, made the air feel different. He held the word on his tongue until it almost broke into a whisper, dragging it out like he wanted to taste it.
Shadow froze. The sound of it in that voice, quiet, soft, almost reverent, crawled under his skin.
Sonic’s eyes softened, lashes low as he looked up through them, his grip still holding Shadow’s jaw steady. The smile on his muzzle wasn’t his usual cocky grin, it was small, vulnerable, disarming.
“Don’t leave,” Sonic said, barely louder than the breeze between them.
Shadow’s breath hitched before he could stop it. He lowered his eyes, but Sonic’s hands kept him there, close.
“Sonic.” The warning was there in his voice, sharp but quieter than it should have been, like he didn’t actually want to pull away.
The air between them felt thin, humming. Neither moved, and yet the space seemed to shrink on its own. Sonic’s breathing slowed, his gaze fixed on Shadow’s lips before flicking back to those burning red eyes.
“Like I said, you’re a tease, you know that?” Sonic’s hand slid slowly from Shadow’s cheek down the strong line of his neck, pausing just above the fur on his chest. His fingers spread, deliberately combing through the soft white tuft, slow enough to make Shadow’s breath hitch.
“You make me wonder if I’m imagining all of this,” Sonic continued, his thumbs brushing Shadow’s jaw unconsciously. “Like I’m losing it…thinking about you when maybe, you’re not even real.”
Shadow’s throat worked around his next word. “Sonic,” he said, softer this time, breath nearly catching.
“You wanna know the things I imagine about you when I’m alone?”
The words struck like a blow. Shadow stiffened, but didn’t move. Sonic’s fingers trailed down his chest, lazy, deliberate, as if daring him to react.
“All the things that would’ve happened if you hadn’t stopped me that night,” Sonic purred, a dangerous edge laced in the sweetness of his voice.
Shadow’s own breath felt heavy in his chest. He could leave. He should leave. But he didn’t.
“Say you want me to go,” he breathed, his voice low, nearly swallowed by the hush between them.
Sonic’s ears twitched. “I don’t.”
That was almost enough to tip Shadow over the edge.
Sonic tilted his head, his gaze dropping briefly to Shadow’s mouth before flicking back up. The orange light behind him blurred, turning the edges of his figure into a halo.
So, painfully, close.
Slap.
The sound cracked through the clearing, echoing against the trees before the silence rushed back in.
Shadow didn’t flinch. The sting came a second later, hot against his cheek, but his crimson eyes stayed locked on the hedgehog before him.
Sonic’s arm was still raised, his own expression frozen in shock at what he’d just done. His fingers curled slowly into a fist, and when he met Shadow’s gaze again, his look had hardened.
“That’s what you get,” Sonic spat, voice sharp, words cutting through the heavy quiet. “Bastard.”
Shadow didn’t move. Didn’t speak.
“I won’t let you cage me. Not like this.”
Sonic’s chest rose and fell too quickly, his lips trembling as if there was more he wanted to say, but he didn’t. Instead, he turned and bolted, a flash of blue and a gust of air, leaving only rustling leaves in his wake.
Shadow stayed there, fingers brushing the heat on his cheek, staring at the dirt where Sonic had stood. For a long time, he didn’t move.
This should have been enough.
Enough to sever the tie. Enough to remind him why he should stay away.
It would be so much easier to hate him.
Shadow closed his eyes, forcing his breath into something steady, controlled. He told himself, again and again, that this was it. The last time. No more watching from the trees, no more stolen glances. The slap had been the line drawn in the dirt, the end of their push and pull.
He would not seek him out again. He would not give the hedgehog the satisfaction.
Facing him in the arena would be easy now.
✦ ✦ ✦
It ended.
Just like that.
Sonic’s sprint slowed into a clumsy jog, his feet scuffing against the dirt until he stopped right in front of Rouge’s tent. For a long moment, he just stood there, breathing hard, hands balled into fists at his sides.
He hadn’t expected himself to actually slap Erebus across the face. Erebus; the mysterious figure who moved like he could bend space, who could pin Sonic down with just his presence.
But it was fair, Sonic told himself. For too long, he had let Erebus get away with it, the shadows, the commands, the control. He had thought Erebus was on his side, someone who might want to tear down the system, to challenge Rome’s cruelty. Someone with that much power and freedom should be able to do something about it.
Instead, it had all felt like another kind of cage. Every meeting was a tug-of-war, Sonic caught between being drawn in and being pinned down.
Still, the sting of his own hand lingered in his memory, the look on Erebus’ face when the slap landed. It wasn’t triumph he felt now, but a deep, gnawing pit of regret.
What if Erebus never came back?
Sonic groaned softly, dragging his hands down his face. He was furious with himself, for striking him, for doubting him, for caring so damn much.
“I know you’re out there, blue.”
Rouge’s voice came from inside the tent, smooth but sharp, and Sonic flinched as if caught.
He wasn’t ready to face her. Wasn’t sure what he’d even say.
Rouge knew Erebus. Everyone had seen them speaking in hushed tones, moving through camp as if sharing secrets no one else could hear. People assumed he was just another Roman officer, but Sonic’s gut told him otherwise.
Maybe it was time to stop guessing.
He ducked into the tent, his usual energy nowhere to be seen. “Hey, Rouge.”
Rouge’s smile faded as soon as she saw his expression. She straightened, resting her chin on her hand. “What’s wrong?”
Sonic hesitated before lowering himself onto a stool, watching her clear the scattered scrolls and wax tablets from her desk. “This might make you… mad.”
“Oh?” Rouge arched a brow, clearly intrigued.
“I noticed,” Sonic began, and that single word made Rouge go still, like a bird sensing a predator.
“The guy who’s been meeting you every few weeks.”
Rouge’s composure was perfect, but he caught the faintest glimmer of tension in her eyes. “Yes.”
Sonic swallowed, his tone softer now. “Who is he?”
Rouge didn’t answer right away. She inhaled slowly, exhaled, and for a moment looked as though she was weighing every possible outcome of her next words.
“You know him.”
It wasn’t a question.
Sonic blinked, then nodded slowly, guilt settling in his chest. “I… yeah.”
Rouge sighed, rubbing her temple. “I knew. I allowed it. I just didn’t think you’d ever ask.”
The confession threw him. She knew about all of it. The meetings, the stares, the moments Sonic had told himself were coincidences.
Heat bloomed in his cheeks, the memory of Erebus’ piercing eyes far too fresh. Had he told her about their encounters?
“Relax,” Rouge said with a small laugh, softening the tension for just a heartbeat. “He’s never told me anything… scandalous. He keeps to himself.”
That only made Sonic burn hotter with questions.
“Then who is he? What business does he even have here?”
Rouge’s lips pressed into a thin line, her wings twitching ever so slightly. “I can’t answer that, Sonic. Not for your safety. Not for his.”
“And yours?” Sonic guessed, frustrated.
Rouge didn’t deny it.
“Rouge!” Sonic whined, running a hand through his quills in exasperation. “I can’t keep living with all these secrets!”
“Sonic—”
“I’m about to die in some arena built by a selfish, stuck-up prince, and one of the only good things that’s happened to me since I got here is…”
He trailed off, jaw clenching, unable to even say his name.
Rouge leaned back in her chair, arms crossing over her chest, her expression unreadable.
“Is he…” Sonic started again, his voice quieter but sharper this time. “…just another lie of the Roman empire?”
Rouge’s gaze lingered on him, calculating. Sonic had never seen her this closed off before. She’d always been sly, playful, sometimes blunt, but never this guarded. It almost looked like she was considering lying to him.
“You don’t want to know.”
“I do!” Sonic’s response came out too fast, too loud. “Rouge, this is ridiculous!”
Her jaw tightened, her ears twitching with irritation. “You’re being ridiculous.”
The words cut deep. Sonic froze, blinking at her. She sounded angry, but he could see the worry in her eyes, the flicker of something like fear.
“What?”
“Things are the way they are for a reason,” she said again, softer now, but with a hard edge.
“Well, that’s stupid.” Sonic wouldn’t back down, even against Rouge.
“You’ll find out,” she said, exhaling like she was already exhausted. “I promise. Just not now.”
Sonic glanced toward the flaps of the tent, the dark field outside, then back at her. “Fine,” he said through his teeth. “Then I’ll ask him myself.”
Rouge arched a brow. “Or you can ignore him.”
“Like hell.” Sonic slammed his palms against her desk, the scrolls and letters shuffling at the impact. “I’ll make him answer. If I have to chase him down every time he disappears, I will. And if he keeps running—” Sonic’s voice cracked, his anger bleeding into something almost desperate. “I’ll kill him if I have to.”
Rouge’s composure cracked just slightly, her wings twitching. “You can’t,” she said quietly. “He’d kill you first.”
Sonic stared at her, teeth bared in something between a grimace and a grin. “We’ll see about that.”
Rouge shook her head slowly, almost pityingly, though her smirk was sharp as a knife. “Good luck,” she murmured, turning her gaze back down to the letters on her desk. “Because I’m not saving you if you pick a fight you can’t win.”
Something inside Sonic snapped. “Ugh! You Romans and your stupid—” He stormed toward the tent flap, fingers brushing against the fabric hard enough to leave a faint tremor. “Your stupid… lies and secrets!” His voice cracked near the end, and he threw a sulking glance over his shoulder like a child demanding to be seen, to be stopped.
Rouge didn’t stop him. She only looked at him with tired eyes, her expression heavy with something between regret and resignation. Sonic hated it. Hated that look. Hated that she got to be sad when she was the one keeping him in the dark.
What’s so hard about telling the truth?
Outside, the air was cold enough to sting as he breathed. The sharp night air hit his lungs, making it hard to swallow. He kicked a bucket sitting near the tent just to hear the clatter, the crash filling the empty space around him.
“Blue!” Rouge’s voice cut through the canvas, exasperated. “Pick that up or I’ll cut your meal portions in half!”
Sonic gasped in mock offense, looking to the nearby Roman guard for sympathy. “Can you believe this?!”
The guard only stared, unmoving. His silence felt like another judgment.
“You people are so boring,” Sonic grumbled, rolling his eyes before kicking the bucket upright again. He set it down hard, letting it rattle on the ground before stalking off, shoulders tight.
The campfires behind him flickered, distant voices blurring into muffled noise. Sonic walked until he reached the edge of camp, to the lone hill where they had met that night. He stopped, staring up at it like it might stare back at him.
The memory came rushing in, unwelcome and too vivid, the quiet conversation under the moonlight, the way the stars had felt like witnesses, the way Erebus’ presence had filled the space between them. His chest tightened until it hurt.
What if he actually never came back?
Then all the nights spent awake, imagining what he would say if they met again, all the daydreams that got him through training, all the reasons he had to keep running…
They would all be for nothing.
But I hope you survive.
Erebus’ voice echoed in his head, soft but sharp, leaving behind a hollow ache. It wasn’t encouragement, it was a curse. A ghost of a voice that would haunt him until his last breath.
The thought of the arena felt heavier now, its shadow creeping closer each day. Every moment that passed was one more tick toward the end.
Sonic sank to his knees, the grass bending under him, scraping against his fur and stinging his skin. The cool dirt bit into his legs, grounding him, yet making him feel smaller than ever.
He pressed his palms against his face, trying to hold himself together, but it didn’t work. It had never worked.
It will never work.