Chapter Text
Knuckles has always had an inner conscience. Or, more accurately, inner consciences. They've never bothered him, and he actually found them quite useful for a life on the move. However, things have recently become a bit more… crowded.
These consciences first began to show their faces when he was a young boy, shortly after the demise of his tribe. It spoke of honor, of avenging his tribe by finding the Master Emerald. It sounded like the way his Father would tell bedtime stories, like the way his Father spoke of the glory that awaited upon the field of battle. It felt, some days, like his Father was still with him in his spirit. Like his whole tribe was still here in spirit, too. All of his people, guiding him to his ultimate, most honorable goal. Number One. He called him his Destiny.
The second, one Knuckles did not like very much, reared its ugly head in the ring. To survive, Knuckles had to temporarily disregard the voice of Destiny that begged him to set back out upon his quest. This second one was more useful now. All they knew how to do was fight, eat, train, and occasionally sleep. While it was a bit uncomfortable, waking up some mornings to find it could have been weeks since he had last been present, it worked for the time being. Knuckles survived because of this conscience. Number Two. He called them his Perseverance.
The third was arguably the echidna's least favorite. But it was also the most useful. It knew how to keep quiet, as quiet as a mouse, to avoid aggression from the hateful public. It, too, kept him alive and well, but more in a social way than the second one. It made sure Knuckles was in good standing with the rest of the world (or at least as good as it could get while he was still an Echidna.) It helped him know what to say, even when the world seemed to come crashing down and Perseverance begged to punch the naysayers. Number Three. He called it his Spirit.
And one horrible day, Three couldn't stop a tear from shedding. And once one fell.. they all fell. Every memory of the years since his journey began had started to come flooding back, filling his head with terrible thoughts and even worse ideas. When he got to the very first thing he could remember, he paused. Where were the pieces before this moment? If Knuckles tried hard enough, he could remember. Vaguely. That day he let his mind truly slip into the black space, and he can only remember waking up the next morning feeling empty of tears with a mysterious ache in his chest. It cured him of these memories. Number Four. He called it his Shield.
Now that Knuckles is safe.. none of these consciences really serve a purpose. But they still want to live alongside him, to grow and use their carefully honed skills to make their way on this unfamiliar planet. But Knuckles wanted to spend time with his family! And there was the other problem, too. One which he never thought would arise in his lifetime.
Ever since he helped recover the Master Emerald, Knuckles had been hearing… voices. More voices than usual. Some sound old, others sound young. Many even sound feminine. They speak of how beautiful this new environment is, and how they much prefer the mountains and snow to the humid underground of the temple.
His first guess was that he had gone completely crazy without a goal. However, with some carefully worded questions to the members of House Wachowski, he wasn't crazy. He just needed to adjust. And adjust he did! But when he had to readjust his adjustments, he realized that the voices were guiding his steps. Sigh. Now he must restart his whole wellness journey.
The idea of restarting this wellness journey was not received well by the consciences. He would ask the new voices, but they are not as reliable as the ones who have been there since the beginning.
”Maybe we are going crazy,” Spirit mutters to itself, running through Knuckles’ lips. ”No, we aren't. This is normal. It is just.. on a larger scale.” Destiny soothed, trying to calm everyone down. Even the new voices were confused. After all, it had been such a long time..
“Perhaps this was meant to be,” Knuckles says himself. The legends often speak of the Emeralds’ guardian being burdened with the spirits of old. That was what truly set them apart from the ordinary Echidna. Perhaps this was just how his course was supposed to be run. The life he was born to lead
*”Right!” Said one new voice.
”When a Guardian passes on to the Great Battleground in the Sky, part of their spirit remains in the Emerald.”
”We are the combined essence of every Guardian before you,” said another. ”The other ones, though.. no idea where they came from.”
Well, if that didn't hit like a brick.