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Metal Sonic was hit with a random blast. He was unsure from who or where, all he recorded was that he was sent flying 68 meters away. He quickly caught himself midair, and was about to take off back to the battle again, when he noticed a familiar shape. His eye caught the form in the dust, surrounded by fallen pillars and rubble.
Curious.
Metal straightened and gradually lowered himself down, one foot reaching ground zero first. His engine sent the dust billowing out, momentarily blurring the outline of the unknown object. He waited until the dust cleared.
It was Amy Rose.
Amy Rose lay crumpled on the broken ground. Wilted, you could say. Her head was turned to the side, her quills obscuring her face. Her limbs sprawled out, except her right arm which was trapped underneath her. Her left arm twisted out in an unnatural manner. She very well could have been sleeping. Why she would go into slumber during a battle was beyond Metal. Amy Rose had always been in the action in previous encounters.
A miniscule layer of dust settled on her. Still, she did not wake.
Odd.
Metal waited. Motionless.
His auditory sensors picked up the distant sound of metal against metal, explosions, destruction of expensive equipment. The battle still waged on between Dr. Robotnik and the copy.
The copy’s friends were here, too. The echidna and the fox. And her.
He should return to the battle. . .
Yet she still did not wake.
Metal found himself stepping toward her. In nine seconds, he stood over her. So close he could nudge her with the end of his foot. Which he did. She did not stir.
His red eyes fixed upon her. And her pale pink fur.
It would shine whenever he saw her. Nary a hair out of place. In the sun, in the firelight, in the glow of artificial lighting, it shone. Now, however, it was dull. Most likely due to the overcast sky. Most likely.
But something else was different. Her red headband was missing. She was never seen without it. His eyes broke focus from her and scanned the surrounding area. Tall, eroding pillars towered over them or laid toppled on the stone flooring. Each one was covered in ivy and thorned vines, adding more to the gradual decay.
There. Only a meter away, her headband rested, discarded.
Metal stepped around her and toward the headband. When he reached it, he bent down and let his fingers close around it. He straightened, holding the simple accessory up to examine it. A solid red, the same fabric as her dress, wrapped around cheap metal, but a large tear in the center of it, marring it.
No matter. He turned back and walked to her. Another explosion boomed in the distance, followed by the copy’s cheer. Even from this far away, he could still recognize that damn voice anywhere.
Metal stopped at her head. He peered at the quills covering her face. Then he bent down and lifted her head up with one hand then slipped the headband into place, how she usually had it positioned. Metal’s hand halted.
Her eyes were wide open. But they stared beyond him. Beyond the pillars, beyond the sky. Gray. Empty.
Of its own volition, the hand holding her head shot back. Her head fell, thunked against the stone floor. An unnatural sound. No metallic tang, just a dull thud.
He zeroed in on her form again. The eyes continued staring.
A file popped up into his vision. He didn’t click it, but it played anyway. Amy Rose screaming in his grasp, screaming as they flew, screaming tied to a pole. Green shirt. Orange skirt. Blue shoes. The same red headband.
Metal forcibly exited the file.
Another explosion.
Glassy eyes staring.
His fingertips scraped against his legs.
Incorrect. False. Error. Error. Error.
He scanned over her body. He had come to the wrong conclusion. Need more evidence. Need contrary information-
Internal bleeding. Major concussion. Broken neck.
No pulse.
Metal’s engine stalled.
Another explosion. More cheers from the copy and company.
Not a blink. Not a flicker. Staring. Staring into nothing.
Metal’s head bobbed, suddenly heavy.
Another file opened in his vision. A stack of the ancient gears in his hand. A glare at Amy Rose. Carrying her away. Light, compared to his metallic body. Fragile compared to unbreakable.
Amy Rose would require a new body. Metallic. Durable. Resilient against. . . against. . .
Metal exited out of the file, forced his eyes away from her. Searching. . .
The pillar. Where the headband was. His eyes followed the length of the carved stone to its base. Charred stone, rubble littered around it. Evidence of a rocket making impact. He looked beyond it, seeing another pillar recently struck down. And another. And another. The stone floor, too, was charred and broken up by explosives. He failed to notice, also, the smashed pieces of Robotnik’s robots, meeting their demise by a swift hammer.
The hammer. . . lay forgotten, trapped under another pillar.
Another file appeared.
Snow. Something tripping over his head. Through the broken lens, he spies terrified Amy Rose. He ignores her. Despite it, she shoves him out of the way of a falling tree. Then whacks him with her hammer again.
But she aided him. She dragged him through snow, wind, and storm back to Dr. Robotnik’s lab. She stuck a red bow to his forehead and placed a yellow flower outlined in red in his hand. Dr. Robotnik studied the flower then carried him inside. Metal caught one last glimpse of Amy Rose beaming from behind a rock before the doors slammed shut. Shining.
A flower. She needed a flower. Dr. Robotnik would fix her if she had a flower.
Metal looked up and scanned the surroundings again. Surely, among all this ivy, there would be at least one blossom- there.
A yellow flower outlined in red. The plant is considered a weed, known to stubbornly grow in any climate, be it snow or stone.
Metal straightened and walked to the flower. He grabbed its stem and cut it with his other hand. Then he noticed another, and plucked that one, too. And the next. And the next. And the next.
A small bouquet soon materialized in Metal’s hand. He turned and marched back to her. Without fully processing, he let the flowers fall onto her body.
Twelve seconds passed. Dr. Robotnik would not accept such a lazy offering.
Carefully, Metal knelt. His hand gingerly regathered the flowers from around her person. He spied the twisted arm. Rather unsightly, not a state to be found in if she was to be fixed.
Metal’s free hand drew closer to her shoulder, to turn her onto her back. His hand stopped. His eyes shifted down to it.
It was shaking. Trembling. Metal brought his hand closer to his face.
He was malfunctioning. He’d need a flower as well. They would have to share.
Share.
Another file.
Amy Rose shivering in the cold, wrapped in a blanket. Metal was perfectly comfortable, slouched against a log. A fire burned in front of them.
Metal glanced at her quivering form. The next thing he recorded, Amy Rose grabbed his arm and threw the blanket around him as well. Confusing to say the least.
They were enemies. And yet she showed him kindness. She took him back to Dr. Robotnik, despite meaning that he would be fixed and oppose her in the future. It was nonsensical.
Kindness is nonsensical.
Amy Rose’s smile seemed to glow in the firelight. Shine, even. But the fire faded. . .
Metal’s body began to shake. His hand dropped the flowers and seized her body. Her legs dragged against the stone floor as he pulled her to him. Her head lolled, his other hand clutched the back of it to his shoulder. The quills were plush against his palm.
Dr. Robotnik would find them. See the flowers. Fix her. He would fix her. He had to-
“Get away from her.”
Metal stiffened. His eyes burned red as they strained to look behind him. To the owner of that damn voice.
The copy .
“Didn’t you hear me, bolts? I said, ‘get away from her’!”
His fingers curled, holding her closer.
“Let her go, you scrap heap!” the echidna shouted, enraged. Two against one.
“Sonic, I think-”
“Not now, Tails!”
The fox as well. Three against one. They must have defeated Dr. Robotnik. He would not be in a mood to fix anything.
Outnumbered. Unfixable. Illogical. He was being illogical.
She could not be fixed. Amy Rose was. . . was. . .
What course of action?
The echidna yelled again. “If you don’t let her go, I’ll-”
Carefully, Metal leaned forward and laid her body down, let it slip from his grasp. His hand took a flower and placed it in her palm. His other hand grazed the top of her head.
Metal haltingly stood. He tilted to one side but corrected himself. Before he could take a step, something crashed into his back, sending him careening in a fallen pillar. He clanged against it, then slumped down to the floor.
The copy landed from his spin dash and turned back toward Amy Rose. He picked her up, let the flower in her hand fall. Metal’s fingers scraped into stone.
The copy zipped back to his companions with Amy Rose in his arms, then they all ran through the brush.
Gone.
Metal laid against the pillar, watched their escape. His eyes shifted to his hand. To the red headband clutched in it.
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