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Another small recon task into neutral zones.
The crime syndicate Zhadow was currently working for had become paranoid in the last few months, notably because of increased Zone Cop activity throughout the multiverse. From his understanding, another battlefront had been established a little too close to the syndicate’s territory and that unnerved them.
They were all the same: confident and comfortable in their positions but encroach on their turf, they become defensive and seek to eradicate the threat by any means.
Of course, there were exceptions but most followed this unchallenged rule of behaviour.
It was an order from his higher ups within the criminal hierarchy, one he didn’t disobey lest he rouse suspicion or blow his cover. And by sending him so close to an active battlefield, Zhadow had the opportunity to observe how the war against Eggman Nega was going.
Last he had heard, there had been little change aside from something major occurring in a far sector from where he was stationed. If he had to guess, Zonic was likely there when it happened. Much like his Prime counterpart, the blue hedgehog was a magnet for all sorts of trouble. But the other at least had more sense and didn’t treat those problems as jokes, he could give him that.
As he approached, Zhadow couldn’t hear any sounds of gunfire or drones marching. Either the last battle was yet another stalemate or he had missed it, both of which didn’t make him feel any better.
The last thing he needed after the week he had was to see a fresh battlefield of corpses and remains.
No bodies, that was good.
Machines, deactivated and in pieces, scattered the grounds. Debris, both artificial and natural, were charred from lasers and explosions that had torn up the entirety of the battlefield.
Zhadow scanned the desolate landscape.
He was relieved to not have to bury anyone today, seeing as the Corps likely didn’t have the time or resources anymore to retrieve or bury their dead.
A frigid wind blew through, a storm was coming. His trench coat would do little against any rain as it lacked a hood. He had better make this quick and head to shelter soon.
Minutes, maybe even an hour passed, with nothing of note being found. And just as Zhadow turned to leave, he heard the faint whimper.
He stood stock still, waiting for whatever had made that sound to make itself known. His patience was rewarded with a small gasp and moan.
Someone was still here, and they were hurt.
Shock didn’t even begin to cover who he had found.
The last person he would have thought to see bleeding out, alone under two large sheets of metal.
Ghost pale lips were parted as the other’s chest heaved, breathing uneven and laboured. A hand was clutched over the red suit covering a lithe body; the fabric around it stained a darker hue as crimson pooled beneath on the ground. The visor covering the hedgehog’s face was cracked but it seemed the most extensive injuries were limited to the torso.
Zhadow wasted no time in pulling the metal off of him, kneeling beside the other and shaking him with a hand on the smaller soldier’s shoulder. He had to wake him up.
“Zonic,” he called. “Zonic!”
With each call unanswered, the more his worry grew.
His voice became frantic, turmoil finally leaking out as he continued to try and rouse the hedgehog back to consciousness.
He was never more relieved when those emerald eyes appeared, misty and dulled but there all the same.
Zonic took a breath to speak, only managing a single weak cough instead. The smaller cop gasped for air. He took longer than he should have to catch his breath.
“Don’t try to speak,” Zhadow murmured. “Just stay awake and breathe.”
Reaching for the hand putting pressure on a still bleeding wound, he did not expect Zonic to weakly paw and push at him. Again, he leaned in and the injured boy used what little strength that remained to move him back.
He observed the quivering of the other’s body, wincing internally at the fearful whimper as he finally managed to remove Zonic’s hand to observe the wound. But it was hard to tell how bad it was with all the blood. The weak hedgehog’s hand returned to the wound, clutching the fabric with a breathless groan.
Time was of the essence.
Without a second thought, he shed his trench coat and carefully bundled Zonic into it. Zhadow tried not to think about how small the other looked like this, holding him close to his chest as he stood and fled the battlefield.
There was a clinic close by.
He prayed that his acquaintance there would save the hedgehog’s life.