Spagonia! Kind of a home away from home after this long. Well, just about everywhere I’ve come back to more than once feels like home now, no matter where it is. Not so friendly cities, wide open fields, doesn’t really matter. I mean, I might not actually have a house or anything, but every time I come back to a place and see it just how I remember it, that’s when it feels like home.
Even if cops are chasing after me because I’m going about double or triple the speed limit, as long as I’m up to speed, I’m where I need to be.
So who needs a home base? Besides, the steep hill coming into Spagonia is to die for. Running at about half top speed is great, but taking that pace downhill, now that’s a rush. It hits fast and-
Oh SHOOT—!

Chapter 2 - Midday Spins
Sonic

I did not expect the grass to be wet this morning! Once I cleared the hill, it was a slide that I knew braking wasn’t going to stop. So I leaned into it, pushed the gas, and tried to remember if it was a left or right that leads into that dead-end alleyway.
The one with the spiked steel fence. The one that totally doesn’t feel good on the abdomen at top speed. Had to sit down after that one.
Half a second later, decision time, and I’m steering mostly left. Left it is! Three turns and one with way less traction and I should be—
That’s the fence.
I let the momentum carry me up when I jump, grabbing just below the spiked top two bars. My feet go up and over in a front flip, and just as the force is about to seriously bend my hands and wrist the wrong way, I let go of the steel bars, just as if they were jungle vines.
High speed dead-ends aren’t an issue, not anymore. Guess it’s to the rooftops with me. If I’m too dusty on my way around here, getting to a higher vantage point is the best way to navigate without needing to slow down. I’ve done it before, and after all these years, I can pretty much zip around any area without needing to stop to look where I’m going.
Movement at this pace is the best, it’s all on instinct. By the time I feel nothing below my feet, I’ve already jumped. When I notice I’ve ducked under something, it’s already yards behind me. I may have quick eyes and faster legs, but hitting top speed in a dense area goes beyond just the traditional senses. Movement and muscle memory become everything, and it’s there I can find some sweet, kinetic peace.
Even if I don’t remember how Spagonia is laid out, there’s something in me that remembers. Guess my subconscious has a kind of instinct that I’ll never get to look in the eye. When you get this fast, movements mean a lot.
Just a little kick to my left and I’ve launched off a villa and toward a set of buildings. A hundred rooftops later and I’ve landed. That split second when my shoes touch the ground, I’ve decided I want to hang right. Why?
I have no clue. But when my hands catch a metal bar, I get the picture. Swinging over it, one two, I let go and am sent flying up and on my way. Shingles, chimney tops, water pipes, railways, and balconies all make for stepping stones as I twist and fly through the city around me. It blends together until I close my eyes, just feeling the momentum as I let muscle memory do all the work.
Yep. I remember now. Just the same as it ever was.
Catching another roof by the edges of its shingles, I heft myself up. Breathing in, I take a huge gulp of air, probably the first one I’ve taken in half a minute. Wind from my own speed forward comes rushing after me, slamming me in the back and making me almost tumble across someone’s roof. I lean on an antennae next to me, watching dust, leaves and other rooftop debris fly away from all around me. I let the breath out of my lungs with a shout in the wind, greeting the day with all the volume I got.
“Good morning Spagonia!”

There wasn’t much time to lose this morning. Markets woke up earlier than me, and I knew if I wanted to snag some good stuff for the garden, it was gonna be before the rush got there.
Luckily for me, rush doesn’t mean much. Even when I’m late I’m early. The last vendor, she hardly knows what to think, me running through her stall and gathering up a few things in less than a second. Nothing falls off her shelves, but I slow things down anyway.
“Sorry ma’am!” I say up to her surprised expression, dropping a few things on the counter, “This will be all, thanks.”
With a warm smile, she collects the knicknacks off the table and counts up the price. I think I have the money? Reaching into the pack on my back, I dig around over my shoulder for it, trying to not make the hole at the bottom of the bag any worse. Really gotta patch this thing. Just as she’s getting a paper bag for everything, I get the money on the table.
“Keep the change!” I say, grabbing my stuff and heading out. While that was probably double the price, I got no doubt in my head that Tails’ couch in his old lab will probably end up reimbursing me later. It’s only a day’s run back, so if I really wanted to I could pull an all nighter to get more spending money. Weaving through the cramped alleyways of the outer-end markets, I take a few skips and leaps over buildings and yards to the plaza.
Early enough in the morning, no one’s here but the ducks I managed to not scare off with my landing. I do skid a bit, and almost end up falling right into the fountain where a few are swimming together under the sprinkling water. When my gut hits the stone, one splashes water in my face to get away.
“Sorry geese and gals.” I say, picking myself up off the fountain edge. A few of them stuck around and stare at me with cautious side eyes, “Don’t give me that. Here.”
The bread I have leftover from breakfast is hardly together, all crumbled and dry from the wind. Still, I have a few takers that swim right up to me for a few bites. “Locals got you eating good, huh?” They’re almost picky, but I let them gobble down the rest, “That was fresh this morning you know! Straight from the next town over the mountains. Nowhere you featherheads could reach easily.”
They swim away, quacking softly. Tough crowd. There isn’t enough of the bread left for anything decent, so I leave it on the fountain edge as I hop off. All about the plaza, I see people leaving their houses, opening up the windows and doors on their balconies. Mainlanders and islanders alike are starting to make the place a little populated, and I’m about to make myself scarce when I see a familiar face.
“Ray!” I shout over at him.
Jumping at my yell, he almost drops the apple he’s sampling. A few more are in his hands, and he gathers them up more closely as the vendor in front of him puts the bills away, “Sonic!” he waves and runs over to me, placing the apple he was eating between his teeth before throwing me one.
I catch it, “Dude, I didn’t know you were on the mainland! How do you like this one?” I wave an arm behind me, “Pretty cool spot huh?”
“It’s awesome here!” he says excitedly, dumping the apples in a bag on his shoulder, “The Chaotix paid our way, tickets, rooms, everything!”
“That’s a sweet deal,” I say, giving the apple a quick spin on my finger, “If you’re up for cramped flights in those tube planes, that is. Why’d you have to pay? Just skip across the ocean like a rock, I know you have the juice for it.”
Ray shakes his head at me, looking embarrassed, “I might, but those waves are scary. I don’t know how you do it.”
“Carefully,” I say, flinging up the apple and letting it fall into my backpack behind me, shooting him a smile, “But for the record, it helps to get an energy drink in night before.”
Ray starts walking alongside me to the main street. We walk past vendors that have tourist trap sales and souvenir handouts. I’m offered a couple, but politely decline. Throwing the paper bag over my shoulder, I let Ray give me the updates.
Since Eggman’s last stand, he’s been working with the Chaotix Detective Agency a little bit, helping them with security alongside Mighty. He’s not really the detective type, but I know Vector likes to have more muscle on his side. And Ray’s a pretty tricky guy to fight, especially with Mighty always in his corner, ready to knock out anyone that even looks at him the wrong way.
They’re here together, seeing the sights. Soon he’s talking about all the neat stuff they’ve seen and I listen. It’s nice to talk to someone after a few months camping around. The afternoon rolls on, and we’ve been in and out of a few stores. I watch him try on a few sunglasses before going with a rad green pair that cost way too much money.
“Man, can’t wait for the party tonight,” Ray tells me, brandishing a pose in his new shades, “It’s gonna be cool!”
“Party huh?” I fold my arms, “What kind?”
“I heard they’re having an open party in the plaza. Some kind of festival for the month. Don’t know what about though, but I heard they got a DJ, lights, everything!”
“Sounds pretty cool to me,” I say, walking along with him, “Too bad I’m skippin’ town tonight, otherwise I’d jam with you.” Just as we turn on the main street, I hear a mainlander hail Ray down.
“Outta luck, kid,” he says, “That festival’s canceled.”
“What?!” Ray looks up at the guy, dismayed, “Why?”
“DJ’s out. Some kinda hiccup, I’m not sure,” the guy says, “Either way, no DJ, no festival.”
“Man…” Ray looks down, “I was looking forward to having a party in a place like this.”
With a shrug of my shoulders, I try to walk a little faster, “That’s too bad. Well, guess it wasn’t fated to happen-“
“Wait!”
I stop. No Ray, bud, don’t you do it.
“Aren’t you a DJ? Like, technically?” Ray comes up behind me enthusiastically, stopping me, “You could totally fill in for him! It would rock!”
“No no, nope.” I shake my head, “No can do. I did that like one time. Yeaaaars ago.”
“You DJ?” the guy behind us asks, “We could really use a fill in, you’d help us alot here.”
“I don’t, really!” I raise my hands up in defense at them both, “It was for a stupid commercial, one time. I was in the city and needed some money, so…”
“C’mon Sonic, you gotta do it!” Ray grabs my shoulder with both hands.
“I can’t, I wish I could! I don’t got equipment or anything…”
“Well, we got some stuff. Enough to get you by,” the man says, walking next to us on the street.
“Nah man,” I try shutting him down, “Ray’s talking me up. I’m not a DJ, really.”
“The pay they got for the gig is pretty sizable from what I know,” he says.
I stop walking. Shoot, I do need cash. That would save me a trip back home, wouldn’t it? And a run across the ocean…hmm.
“How…sizable?” I ask.
The man looks at Ray before leaning down to me, whispering the amount in my ear. I feel both perk up. That’s not bad! That’s actually really good, just for one night?
“Huh!” I say, then feel my foot start to tap, “Well, I mean, uh…hm.”
“Please Sonic?” Ray looks at me, pleading, “It would be so cool to go to a party in Spagonia! Especially if I know the DJ!”
My foot taps faster as I mull it over. They wait. Pretty sure Ray doesn’t breathe.
“Eh alright. What the heck.”
Ray gives a fist pump and shakes my shoulder a little, “Yess! Thanks Sonic!”
“I’ll see what I can work out with the manager,” the guy says, “Just stay here in the plaza, I’ll tell them to meet you here if it’s a go.”
“Sure, sure,” I wave him off, “I guess two nights in the same place won’t kill me.”
After he leaves, Ray and I are left to enjoy the afternoon around town. Once we’ve hit up the main spots of the plaza, he plops down on a bench, eating another apple from his bag. I take a seat next to him, enjoying the sunshine and company.
You’d probably get a kick out of this place too, Tails. Just you wait. I’ll pry you out of that dingy old lab one of these days.
He arrests my attention back with a hand on my shoulder, apple core in his other hand, “Hey, next time you do go running across an entire ocean, at least tell somebody which sea you’re skipping across!” he says, giving me a worried look, “You don’t exactly have Tails on coms anymore.”
“Eh, like I said, I’m careful enough,” I say with a shrug, “Do it enough times and it gets easier to handle.”
“Easier to handle?” he echoes, “It’s the ocean!”
“Dude, it’s fine. Have you seen my top speed lately? I hardly touch water when I go for it anymore,” I brush his hand off my shoulder. He laughs, clearly not believing me, when someone blocks the sun in front of us.
“I bet he brought floaties.”
We both look to the new voice, and it’s Mighty. He unfolds his arms and offers me a fist bump with a small smile.
I accept and retort, “Did not.”
“Then you’re stupid,” He laughs at me, “What if you trip on a wave, huh?”
“Kick your legs hard enough and you pop out the water like a boogie board,” I say with a smirk, “Not that you’d know, you’d sink like a rock.”
“Whatever,” he rolls his eyes, “At least I can swim once I sink.”
Despite the fact that he’s all jokes with me, I can tell they’re both a little concerned. If I caught them in a bad mood, they’d probably push the issue and make me get on the com line with the Chaotix. Instead, he doesn’t, catching an apple from Ray and taking a crunch at it.
“Ray,” he says with a full mouth, “Gotta come back to the hotel. Chaotix just called, we’re needed.”
“We have to leave? Already?” Ray looks at Mighty, wide eyed.
“Nah, we can have this meeting remotely. But depending on what that meeting entails, the next week is up in the air,” Mighty says.
“Anything important?” I ask as Ray gets up and gets his stuff together.
“Shouldn’t be. Probably just some investigations tying up some loose ends around the last stand,” Mighty says, taking another bite of the apple, “Not sure why that case is even open anymore. You checked everything right?”
“Every square inch,” I say, leaning back on the bench now that there’s more room, “Battlefield had nothing, zip traces. No way Egghead made it out, underground or by the air.”
“Thanks for hanging out with me today, Sonic. Hopefully I’ll be out of that meeting in time for the party, mister DJ!” Ray says, hefting up his shoulder bag, “Please, take a plane home whenever you decide to leave afterwards, okay?”
I roll my eyes, “I’ll think about it. You two stay safe though, y’hear?”
With a pat on Ray’s shoulder, Mighty starts walking down the main street. I wave them bye as the afternoon sun crawls into a warm, orange evening. Once they’re gone, I shrug off my pack and let it rest in front of me on the bench. I pull out a few of my finds, making sure everything’s still here. A few figurines, one representative of each landmark around. A deck of cards--Knuckles asked me to grab him one from somewhere on my run. A good photo frame, I can probably print the picture when I get to the old lab…
I dig around some more. Shoot, did I lose it?
“Nah, there you are.”
I pull out the shell bracelet from my bag. It’s tied with a black string, mismatched holes in each shell.
Along the coasts, I’ve been gathering a few shells here and there. In fact, each shell is from a different beach. I may not be as good of a DIY guy, but I think this gift’s coming along pretty sweet. Seeing it in progress though, it’s nowhere near ready. I hold the bracelet up in the light. Looks almost like the one she gave me all that time ago. Except, well, the shells don’t match at all.
I twirl the shell bracelet around on my finger a little bit, then test the knot to make sure it’s secure before stuffing it back in the bag. It’s the best I got. Whatever. She’ll love it. Probably.
I hope.
Hopping up, I groan. Man, I can feel myself growing roots.
If I didn’t promise that random dude a DJ, I could get outta here and be in the next town by dark. I pull the strings on my bag closed, before I feel a tap on my shoulder.
A jerboa boy, clearly either an islander or a nomad like me. His tall green ears are flopped down by a green beanie. The rest of his fur is black, and the gloves he has on are clearly meant for heavy duty work, worn and brown. He’s got orange hiking boots on, and the clothes he has on don’t look all that new, which makes me think that he could be a traveler too. He talks in a different language, but it’s one I understand. He signs the sentence out with his hands, and while I am a little rusty, I get the picture.
He’s talking out loud too. It’s very slight, but I can tell he’s deaf.
“Are you Sonic? One of my associates told me you’d be helping us tonight.”
I smile and respond the best I can, trying to remember signs on the fly, making a few before I put a hand on my chest, “That’s me.”
He seems surprised, “Oh, you actually speak in…?”
“Yeah.” I nod, “I learn a lot of languages. Have to if I want to travel.”
“Travel.” He corrects, making a snaking motion with his index and middle finger. I smile. Whoops.
“Right, travel.” I make the right sign this time. He gives an earnest smile, nodding happily.
“I can read your lips, you don’t have to sign if you don’t want to,” he says out loud. His voice is really soft, but the punctuation is great.
“It’s okay!” I sign enthusiastically, determined to get it right, “I need to practice.”
“You’re very good,” he says back, “Not rusty at all. My name is Scrap,” he offers me a hand.
I shake it, “Sonic,” I say out loud, “So, you’re the manager person?”
“Not quite,” he says. I notice he has a huge backpack on, one that he sits down next to the bench, “I come here often, and when I do they pull me into organizing events.”
“You’re telling me! I wasn’t here for a day and now I’m the DJ!”
“It’s the town’s bad habit,” he says with a chuckle, “But I like being involved. As long as I get to move on the next day.”
“You said it,” I say, “So you travel too, huh?”
“As much as I can,” Scrap says, “Not usually to towns like this. But yes.”
I nod, “Well, lead the way. Daylight’s fading fast.”
He signs back, “Just as it always does.”