Chapter Text
It rained.
It had been raining for days. Maybe weeks. When you live for hundreds of years, time is relevant and hard to measure.
Any normal mobian would be curled up inside on a day like this. Maybe with a blanket draped over them and a fire blazing in the fireplace.
Eclipse was not a normal mobian.
As such, he was standing alone in a dark alleyway, rain cascading down his snakelike skin. Cold seeped into his bones, but years of hiding his pain kept him from shivering.
Eclipse sighed, slumping against the soaked bricks.
Alone and powerless. Just like Black Doom always told me. He always knew I’d end up this way.
The rain was so cold. Eclipse wanted warmth. And he wanted so many other things, but it was easier to focus on the cold instead of the lack of warm bodies pressed into him.
The young Black Arms soldier reached out absentmindedly to pat one of his Dark Arms, his stomach twisting when his talons met empty air.
Of course. I need to get better at remembering.
Retracting his arm, Eclipse cast his gaze to the sky, not flinching when raindrops fell into his eyes.
He tried to pretend he wasn’t imagining familiar grey forms wreathing around his clawed feet, scrambling up his shoulders and onto his head, forever fighting and causing trouble.
The alien had been warned not to get attached to the little creatures, so, really he deserved this. Black Doom was right. He always was. Rhygenta, Cregal, Blurk and Cyzer had paid the consequences for the Darkling’s failure.
When his eyes clouded over with water, Eclipse tried to pretend it was just because of the rain.
***
One of the many ways that Eclipse wished he was more like his brother; the Ultimate Lifeform didn’t need to eat.
And Eclipse did. Which was hard, since…well, he’s an alien. He had no money for food, and nobody’d give it to him. And he wasn’t starving yet, so he wasn’t going to kill anyone for food just yet.
Which left him with one option: the Cylinder.
The Cylinder was a cylindrical container where mobians put all sorts of things in. Wrappers, paper scraps, and most importantly—food. It seemed to be some kind of storage container, except that no one ever came back for it. And that was because Eclipse got to it first.
Hey, if they want their food, they shouldn’t leave it unattended.
Eclipse had memorized places around the city where the best Cylinders could be found. It was important. And so he was heading to the best one, the closest one.
Eclipse slowly peeled himself off the soggy bricks he was slumping against (a voice that sounded like Black Doom echoed at him; Look intimidating! You’re a weapon and a soldier, don’t slump like a common idiot) and started down the alleyway.
“C’mon, Rhygenta,” He said instinctively, used to the little one lagging behind. “We’re not far—”
Eclipse sucked in a breath, squeezing his eyes shut.
They’re all gone. You have to get used to it.
Eclipse forced the ache in his ribcage down, trampling on it like one might stomp on a stubborn flame.
Just keep going. One foot in front of the other. Don’t look down.
Eclipse began walking again, quickening his pace.
The Darkling emerged from the alleyway onto the wide open streets. Wind blew wet papers around his ankles, the rain hitting the ground like it had a grudge against concrete. The gale tore leaves from the trees, the branches shaking. In this weather, no one would be around to see Eclipse.
Perfect. Just the way he liked it.
The rain battered Eclipse as he hurried down the deserted street. His red markings and gold irises were the only glimpses of color in the greyscale world.
The rain made it hard to see. Eclipse narrowed his eyes.
There it was!
The glorious Cylinder came into view, and the alien perked up instantly. His long, spiked tail rose from where it had been nearly dragging on the floor.
Eclipse ran the rest of the way.
He immediately pulled the top off of the Cylinder, and many, many smells wafted out, all wet and most inedible.
Darn.
Eclipse started to sift through the scraps, sorting them into edible and weird disgusting blobs that he would never eat unless everyone on the planet died and all the fruit went extinct.
He was mildly upset by the fact that most of the stuff had been rendered inedible by the rain, but he continued sorting anyway, hoping that the depths of the Cylinder held a good meal.
One of his claws caught on a large sheaf of mostly dry paper. The Darkling began to shake it off, but froze. A colorful picture on the paper had caught his eye.
He pulled it close to him, tilting his head. As Eclipse began to read, the sky decided to distract him.
The sky split open in a flash of white light, and the clouds rumbled, the loud sound hurting Eclipse’s ears.
The Darkling arched his back and roared at the sky as loudly as he could. Although it wasn’t as loud as the clouds, he hoped it would scare off whatever was hiding in there.
Nothing roared back.
Having successfully asserted his dominance over the sky, Eclipse turned back to the damp parchment in his claws.
Help Wanted! It read in big, bold letters. Are you a talented, adrenaline-seeking acrobat/clown/mime artist/dancer who longs to travel the world and leave your old life behind? Join the Green Hill Circus! Little or no experience is a-okay! Pay is around 375 rings a month.
The picture was one of a blue hedgehog wearing typical ringmaster gear and grinning at the camera. Several other colorful mobians stood behind him, all striking extravagant poses.
Just an advertisement. Eclipse had seen plenty of those. But one line stuck out to him in particular.
“Leave your old life behind.”
That sounded pretty good, right then.
Eclipse scanned the page again, noting the current location and how long until they moved along.
Tomorrow. A very small window. But Eclipse could make that work.
“Ok, Universe.” He told the grey sky. “I’m taking this chance.”
Maybe he could earn his own money there. And then he could get food from the good places, like the supermarket! The supermarket had meat, right? Eclipse liked meat.
Although it said no experience required, Eclipse wasn’t sure if he could actually do this. He was off-putting and had an ‘attitude problem’, whatever that meant. Was he really going to uproot his (admittedly unfulfilling) life on a whim?
“I’m going to do just fine.” The Darkling promised the clouds.
The sky responded by soaking him with a frankly scientifically impossible icy downpour that only hit him.
“I am!”
The sky flashed and rumbled again, seemingly laughing at him.
Stupid galactic forces that think they’re so smart.
Eclipse huffed.
I will be fine.
I will be fine.
I will be fine.
Maybe if he said it enough times, he’d actually believe it.