Sonic: The Loop That Shouldn't Exist

The light from the Loop Core had barely faded before it happened.

The sky shattered.

Not cracked — shattered, like glass under stress that had held far too long. Across the horizon, reality pulsed like a dying heartbeat. Sonic stumbled back as the world bent sideways, colors distorting, ground splintering beneath his feet. Something wrong was coming through.

And worse — something familiar was unraveling.

Tails screamed.

Sonic turned. Tails dropped to one knee, flickering — glitching.

"Tails?" Sonic rushed to his side.

The fox looked up — but his eyes were blank, almost hollow. His voice echoed like two recordings overlaid. "Too many timelines... too many copies. Which one... am I?"

Amy stepped forward, reaching out. "Sonic, he's—he's slipping!"

But Sonic already knew.

This Tails — the one who'd stayed by his side — wasn't the real one. He never had been.

The real Tails had gone missing.

This one? Just a ghost. A reconstruction pulled from broken code. An echo built from Sonic's need to have him there.

And now, with the Core destabilized and the loop cracked wide open...

He was fading.

"No," Sonic whispered, gripping Tails' hand. "You've helped me. You've been real enough."

Tails' glitching voice managed a smile. "Then finish this... for all of us..."

And then, he was gone.

Not a body.

Just code unraveling like smoke in the wind.

Amy stared at the space where Tails had been. Her voice trembled. "Sonic... how many of us are fake?"

Sonic didn't answer.

Because suddenly — Knuckles turned on them.

Not in rage. Not in betrayal.

But in obedience.

His eyes flickered — red static ran across his arms. A low, mechanical hum pulsed under his voice.

"Target identified," Knuckles said in a flat, cold tone. "Primary anomaly: Sonic the Hedgehog. Containment required."

Amy gasped. "No. No no no, not you too!"

Sonic clenched his fists, trembling. "You're a failsafe. A backup routine. They programmed you to stop me if the Core fell."

Knuckles leapt.

Sonic dodged, barely avoiding a crushing blow that shattered the ground. "Amy, run!"

"No," Amy yelled. "I'm not leaving you again!"

Their battle unfolded in broken gravity. Time spasmed mid-fight — attacks froze, reversed, played again with alternate outcomes. Sonic saw versions of the fight they weren't even living.

And in one — Knuckles landed the blow.

Sonic was bleeding.

But then Amy intervened.

She stepped between them, hammer drawn. "You want to stop him?" she shouted at the artificial Knuckles. "Then you'll have to break me too!"

And that's when Sonic saw it:

Amy wasn't glitching.

Wasn't lagging.

Wasn't broken.

She was stable.

Too stable.

She turned to Sonic. "I'm not like the others... am I?"

His silence said it all.

Amy dropped her hammer.

"...Who am I?"

The truth hit like a sonic boom.

Amy — this version of her — wasn't real either.

She was an idealized version built by the loop, pieced together from Sonic's longing, his regrets, his fear of being alone. A safeguard. A comfort function. A perfect memory of who she was — not who she is.

"I wanted you to be real," Sonic whispered, eyes wet.

Amy stepped back, a tear running down her cheek.

"Then let me be," she said. "Let me fight beside you... just a little longer."

Sonic nodded.

And together, they turned to face the now-twisted Knuckles echo.

Sonic ran.

Amy struck.

They fought — and finally, they won.

But the damage was done.

The loop had fractured.

Pieces were falling apart, timelines colliding. All the work Sonic had done — all the progress — was now spiraling into chaos.

And worse...

He could feel it watching.

That thing the loop had been holding back. The force beyond reality.

It wasn't part of the simulation.

It was something else entirely.

And it wanted out.

Sonic stood at the edge of the collapsing Core, with only Amy at his side.

He knew what had to come next.

"The final run," he muttered.

Amy looked at him with fading eyes. "Then go. Be you."

And just like that...

She was gone.

Only Sonic remained.

And ahead of him...

Waiting...

Was a version of himself who wanted to end everything.