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In the middle of a forest in mobius, there was a mountain which lifted itself high into the air, letting all that came to live and visit see high above the rest of the forest. There were small paths that could lead you up to the top, but for the most part they went unused due to its isolated location. It’s montane circle of life had stood for thousands of years, ever since the continents were formed, and still it teemed with new cries of animals caught by predators, and from cubs and newly hatched chicks calling out for food. Lives beginning and ending - life eternal.
Now in the darkness of night, red shoes were entering its sloped lands on one of those paths, bringing with them a person with a singular purpose - to have no purpose for as many hours as his life would allow him. Branches would sometimes crack under them but other than that, the shoes kept their respect for the forest.
The moon was full and it shined brilliantly, happy that it had completed its conquest of the sun’s domain. There were small patches of clouds in the sky, with illuminating stars behind them, all in all casting the forest in serene moonlight which dozed its inhabitants to sleep, and kept its guests awake for admiration. The forest, all it’s leaves and grass straws, branches and more, were covered with a blue-greyish tint which dampened the world.
Near the top, at the edge of a sharp, protruding cliff lay a tree log, strong and sturdy. Two meters long from side to side, 34 centimetres in depth, perfectly placed to so one could sit and face the forest beneath it. Surrounding it was only grass and a tree behind it to its left side if you walked up to it from behind the cliff. A little further back, back into the mountain, were bushes and flowers and more trees, creeping with life and shadows. How and why and when it got there, no one could tell, but it wasn’t a mystery that concerned Sonic the Hedgehog.
During his long runs across continents and worlds, he had found few places such as this. Somewhere where he was alone - and not, because nature was all around him. He loved all his friends dearly, but even he needed time where he could just exist and be nothing. Here he was never alert, never worried, never curious, not even excited. It was him and nature and the stars and the worlds beyond. Tranquillity.
How many evenings and nights had he spent, looking across the forest and towards the horizon? How many leaves and flowers has he felt which had since turned into dirt? He had noticed so many things, but time and numbers were never one of them.
One of the things he had noticed was, that sometimes there would be footprints present at the tree log. A pair of feet would have planted themselves right in front of the log facing the edge, though strangely, there seemed to be none other nearby. No footprints leading to or away, as though a ghost was ruminating on this very spot of the planet. Sonic didn’t mind, whether they be a ghost or not. He could understand, needing to sit down at the end of a journey, needing to look over the beautiful forest and its vast trees that seemed to stretch to infinity, or maybe they simply needed some time away from it all. It wasn’t his private property, and he was more than happy to share with whoever needed a breather for all reasons they could have.
The trip itself was unusually slow if one didn’t know the hedgehog’s inner thoughts. Slow walking, hands brushing alongside the leaves, smile and eyes filled with silent veneration as he inhaled the cold, fresh night air.
His pupils would look at the flowers with their colours that even the night could not tame, and his ears would hear the animals nearby scavenging the ground for fruit, nuts, insects, each other.
The log was near now, he could practically feel the bark on his fingers, clenching it as he would sit and inhale, exhale as he admires the forest, all its life and wonders and secrets. And he would-
Sonic stopped, stunned for a moment, before alertly moving as silent as he could into the bushes and onto his knees. Someone was sitting on the log, a silhouette in the middle of the full moon, with their back to the mountain and to him.
Who was it?
His state of stunned surprise gave way to curiosity beyond all reason. Sonic squinted his eyes in an attempt to better make out the person. It would seem he had found the mystery visitor, and now he wanted to know as much of them as he could.
He could see blue, blue just like himself. Yellow in the middle of the torso, was it fur? It didn’t seem like it, but he couldn’t make it out. But that was only their back, he needed more.
Fingers searched the ground, looking for something to possibly use. They found a small rock, suitable for whatever quick plan he was making up. He threw the rock to the tree besides the log, and in a split second, the head of the silhouette turned without its neck following along. Two red circles, with black surrounding them and black withing, stared into the dark. Perhaps they were in a competition with nature in fright, which the eyes knew they would win. Only one creature that Sonic knew of had these eyes - lenses.
Metal Sonic.
And he was holding something in his hand, fingers clenched and yet delicate.
The lenses surveyed the area; Sonic had never wondered before how good the robot’s night vision was. Not good enough it seemed, because the head slowly turned around again, making the eyes invisible to Sonic.
Sonic kept his head down and knees on the ground, his emerald eyes looking at his rival from withing the bush and its moonlit leaves. Confusing gave way to his usual first response, taunting, for the surreal display in front of him. A snarky comment almost left his throat before it was swallowed back down, the flexed mockery of his face muscles relaxing while eyes and lips seemed to realise what he was about to do and stopped him.
This wasn’t right. Metal Sonic was made for combat, a lethal robot, who’s programming made them a slave to their creator with no hope of change or independence. He had no things to do except for what his master commanded of him. Yet here he was, sitting like he himself would so often do, no destruction in sight, everything looked like Sonic had hoped it would. It was impossible for Sonic to catch any reason in this, so what was happening here?
Was Metal Sonic the one to leave those footprints? Considering he could fly…
Sonic leaned his body back, shifting to a more comfortable position but his eyes remained concentrated.
The robot seemed to relax his features again (could a robot relax?) and brought the object in his hand up to his eyes. It wasn’t easy to make out what it was; it was rectangular, its size made it fit into one hand but too small to fit into two, and it seemed to be made out of metal, though with a shiny silver colour unlike its holder. After observing it for a little bit, Metal Sonic brought it to where organics had a mouth, hands holding each end of the rectangle.
For a moment, Sonic held his breath as he waited on the robot’s next move.
Then a sound appeared, starting slowly. Another sound appeared and another – were they notes? It sounded like a harmonica playing. Metal Sonic’s arms began to move as well, as if he was indeed playing a harmonica!
Sonic kept quiet and kept hiding.
Were those sounds actually coming from the harmonica? But Metal Sonic had no mouth, or lungs for that matter. Were they coming from a speaker from within Metal Sonic himself, or perhaps a speaker in the harmonica, a look-alike harmonica? Metal Sonic’s limps and fingers moved accordingly so that, if he wasn’t legitimately playing, it was a perfect simulation of a real musician.
Sonic’s head filled with more and more questions. The song – at the very least he was sure he could call it a song now – continued. The moonlight still coated all in its light, undisturbed by the intrusion, and there was only a weak, if any, wind. Confusion almost overwhelmed him until the song stopped.
Metal Sonic repeated the melody again.
The organic hedgehog kept listening.
Nature around them went on as it always did.
His alert body started to slumber a bit, and his face released its suspicious furrows. He lowered himself more to the ground, criss-cross sitting instead of kneeling. Metal Sonic wasn’t here to fight or cause destruction, and it certainly didn’t look like the kind of mission that his creator would send him out on. The robot was here by own choice. Sonic blinked slowly. And it seemed guaranteed that he was the mystery visitor who had left footprints for Sonic to find. He wondered if Metal Sonic had found his footprints as well, and what he thought about seeing them.
The song continued, sending a message that only Metal Sonic could decipher. Sonic would never discover its meaning, but perhaps…
Perhaps his imagination was enough.
Metal Sonic played well, Sonic thought. Though of course he was a robot, so he didn’t need training like living mobians did. He bit his lips slightly.
A cold inhale filled his lungs, and more of his features relaxed. The wind grew a little stronger, rustling leaves while the night air filled with feelings unable to be said, with needs and wishes and hopes for a better life.
Sonic finally swallowed again, catching himself before he slipped more into daydreams. Soon they’d encounter each other again, and they would fight again, and they would leave each other again only to meet at another encounter and fight again. Another circle that seems unending. But just this evening, they were friends. Even if Metal Sonic would never know, they were friends right now, enjoying each other’s presence and thinking about… Yes, Metal Sonic could think. That, Sonic was sure of, he would even say that he knows it. They might not share much beyond name and colour, but they shared this evening, this place and its effects on them, though different it might be.
The melody repeated again.
Careful not to make any noise, Sonic lowered himself fully to the ground, his back lying on the grass, his body still obstructed from the robot by the bush. His right hand laid on top of his left and they both rested on his stomach.
Metal Sonic’s song continued unabated, beautiful harmonica that could mean so many things. There was still so much he suddenly wanted to know, but he felt better now.
This place truly felt magical. No, it was beauty, not magic.
Eyes blinked, his body became heavier, and he slipped without knowing into sleep.
The night had perished and the day had been birthed, continuing their eternal cycle of death and reincarnation.
Sonic awoke with leaves covering half of his face, one of them having landed so it made his nose itch. Only moving his arm, and only with what was absolutely necessary, he scratched the feeling and leaf away and returned to lying there, not bothering with the rest of the leaves. Glimpses of sunlight pierced through tiny openings in the bush, with the green leaves rustling due to the wind.
He didn’t know if Metal Sonic had left or not. He probably had. As memories of the night came to him, his eyes softly narrowed and his mouth remained a little agape.