Chapter Text
He awoke to the same, familiar smell he had always known. It was the smell of rot and decay. He had spent so much time in here that the horrid smell had gotten lighter and lighter. In the early days, it was nearly unbearable. But now, the assaulting stench had shifted to a faint reminder of the old days. Days when there were so many people in the world that a landfill was necessary. Now, it was more of a treasure trove of forgotten secrets rather than a place one would discard the unwanted and the unclean.
Sonic the Hedgehog, former hero, now just a survivor, awoke from his slumber. To say he got some rest would be a lie. He felt as groggy as ever. But the morning sun shined through a hole in his makeshift home, and he got up, rubbing his eyes.
“No, this isn’t home.” he thought to himself. Home… home is where Tom, Maddie, and Tails are. Even that Knucklehead counts, even if he and the red echidna had a bit of a scuffle.
“Just a little fight,” he said, remembering the adventure from the past. In fact, it was, in reality, quite the fight. Maybe… that was the cause of all this. These thoughts had put a damper on his mood. Him and his warp rings, had he brought this upon this world, his home? He wouldn’t get the answers by just standing here. He needed to get ready for another day of searching. Searching for his friends, for his family, and for a way to stop this nightmare. He may be a bit older now, but that won’t stop his determination.
It’s the only thing he has left.
He finally got up from his bed. Well, “bed” is a nice way of putting it. In reality, it was a loose collection of cloth and anything that kept warmth. Except for actual trash. Some lines just can’t be crossed, even in the apocalypse. At least, not yet, he hopes. Luckily he can grab resources in such a fast manner that getting food, water, and shelter isn’t really a problem. It’s not the same for others. He could run around the world in 30 minutes, tops, but when the mist came, people barely had any time to escape…
“No, get your head on straight. You can fix this.” he thought to himself. He did a lot of that. Thinking, that is. When the world is so quiet you can hear a mosquito fly from 100 feet away. How did they even survive? They eat skin, right? That what he figured, anyways. No humans, no animals, yet they show up every so often during the summer season. What a miracle that they managed to survive the mist, huh?
He made his way to the opposite side of his temporary place of residence. This is where his backpack was. It was actually quite a nice bag; he had stolen it from an outdoor sports store. Well, is it really stealing if nobody ran the store? Maybe. Either way, it was his now, and he grabbed the familiar green bag like it was his for many years. He unzipped the cloth container and looked inside for something to eat. The first thing he got his gloved hand on was a plastic bag. Taking it out, he looked at the plastic bag. It was a pack of noodles.
“Breakfast of champions.” he thought as he ripped open the package with his teeth. He spat out the plastic in his mouth and began to eat the flavorless, dry noodles. Carrying the package in one hand and putting on the backpack with the other, Sonic began to walk out of the shelter and out into the gray world.
The dirt beneath his feet, the marks and scuffs on his equipment, they were all grey. In the beginning, his quills were still vibrant blue. But as time marched on, whatever had made the ground its dull color had begun to affect him. Whenever he looked into a pond and saw his reflection, he could see just how far he’s been affected. His eyes lost their color, his gloves looked like ash, and his shoes, the gift he was given a long time ago, had lost its vibrance, replaced by dull reds and yellows. Every time he saw himself, he was reminded that time was not infinite. He was going to die because of this.
He shook his head, quills moving in delayed response as they gently flowed with the breeze. Despite the icy look of the dirt he stood upon, the sun shined a bright golden glow, bringing warmth to his skin. He always liked the warm weather. It reminded him of Green Hills, of his old home. So, walking forward whilst munching on the last of his breakfast, he began to step out of the landfill. But just when he was about to reach the end of the gates, he felt something behind him. His quills stood up, and his skin crawled. He turned around with a flash, only to see the gaze of six pairs of purple eyes.
It was the wastehounds. Sonic had no idea where they had come from, but it didn’t stop him from encountering them before. He thought that they were simple creatures, just some weird dogs. Quite aggressive too, but nothing Sonic couldn’t just zip away from. But as time went on, they started getting more intelligent. They would get the jump on him, forcing him to fight back, or they’d rip him to shreds. And now, the animals had purple eyes, just like the mist. The dogs, who looked more like skeletons than skin, began to walk closer.
“Sorry guys, not here to chit-chat. Gotta juice,” said Sonic, a twinge of unease in his voice. He was not the same hedgehog that defeated Robotnik in Green Hills all that time ago. His cocky attitude and signature smirk is now just a relic of a different time. He turned to run away, raising his foot, then stepping down hard, the first step in a long sprint. But the familiar blur of a sonic boom did not surround his vision. Instead, he looked around in shock as his surroundings were the same rotten landfill he was just about to exit. The hedgehog struggled again but just couldn’t move his foot. He could feel the spines on his back, and he felt cold sweat drip off his face. He hated these dogs, how they looked, how they looked at him. So why couldn’t he run?!
He looked down to see that his foot was being held in place by a strange, purple tendril. He shook his foot but couldn’t move.
“Well, that explains that,” he said to himself, almost in a disappointed tone. His stubbornness was one of the things that never left him. And now, it could get him hurt, bad.
The group of six mutant dogs started to get closer and closer, producing a low growly from their boney jaws, saliva, and mucus dripping onto the dirt. The world was so silent, so still, that Sonic swore he could hear the droplets of organic liquid echo. He strained to turn his head all the way around, twisting his body in an odd fashion to catch a glimpse at the creatures. The pale-skinned animals had some sort of glow around their heads, which then created the very tendril that kept his foot in place.
“C’mon, let go of me! Hedgehog tastes bad, anyways,” spoke the blue blur, not really expecting a reply. As the weird dogs stepped closer, Sonic got an idea. A simple idea, he had used it quite a lot.
Spindash.
Quickly, he curled into a ball and promptly started spinning. He could hear the animals whine in pain, and the tight grip around his ankle was gone. He smirked, something he didn’t often do these days, and yelled out, “Gottcha now, suckers!”
The wastehounds growl, and as Sonic released his spindash, he could feel the tendrils hit him with great force. He screamed out in panic as he was sent flying off away from the exit. Sonic fell to the ground and shook his head.
“Man, these dogs ain’t playing around anymore,” he said, resting a hand on his knee, before standing up straight. The creatures barked at the hedgehog as they turned to face him. It seemed like a real fight was going to begin. Sonic furrowed his brow as he faced the animals, and they shook their heads aggressively in turn.
They were too busy to notice a deep, distant rumbling sound. But once the sound came closer and closer, Sonic's ears twitched, and the dogs looked to the sky. He to, looked to the sky, and what he saw brought a wave of memories back. The silhouette of a flying vehicle rapidly approached the landfill, its blades pounding furiously in the wind. The machine’s gray hull reflected the white sunlight, and as it got closer, a logo could be seen.
“There’s no way!” Sonic said in utter disbelief, looking at the logo of G.U.N on the helicopter.