SheepKing
She/They 🐑
Silver never was that avid of a dreamer. He rarely ever remembered the imaginary scenarios cook up by his slumbering mind and the ones he managed to not forget were mostly innocuous in nature. He supposed it had to be a gift since he knew there was an abundance of past experiences and traumas from living in a desolate future that would be ample fuel for nightmares. However, this time was much different from any kind of dream he’d had before.
He felt warmth. A blistering heat. A hotness that engulfed all other senses. He could smell the thick smoke invading his lungs making every breath a struggle of massive proportions. His eyes watered blurring any chance of clear vision that hadn’t already been clouded by smoke. He felt as if the world around himself was nothing but fire. But, Silver wasn’t scared or afraid. He didn’t fear the fire in the slightest. All he felt was anger and disgust towards it all, a burning hatred even more fiery that the flames that cloaked the world.
“What’s the point of this? It’ll never end!”
He could just barely make out a person in the distance slam their fist into a nearby charred column. Without any context, he didn’t have the slightest clue as to what they were talking about but they seemed to still ring deep into the hedgehog’s mind. He could almost relate to the sheer exhaustion that the stranger was plagued with. That they were running themselves down thin, repeating something over and over and over again with the naive expectation that the outcome will somehow change despite it. Another figure appeared from seemingly no where to quickly admonish the stranger’s outburst.
“Calm down ———”
He couldn’t make out any specific features of this second person, only that they held a stern tone yet feminine inflection. Despite being so unsure of this individual’s identity, he felt as if he’d known them for all of his life.
“Then tell me what we should do. How can we completely destroy——-?”
The third an final figure emerged from above, a dark silhouette who blended in well with the wreckage blackened from flames. They stood high atop a tower of crushed concrete, hands raised to the sky as if in prayer. They continued.
An origin, what was the origin? What was the origin to all of this? What was his origin? He so desperately wanted an answer. Something that’d lead him in the right direction of saving the future. But if knowledge of the past was the answer then what was his past? Silver looked down at the palms of his hands, eyes wide with a realization undiscovered up until now.
“Who...who am I?”
All three figures turned to stare down at him, gazes as cold as a corpse. The first one he’d seen had been the one to provide an answer for this life shattering question. They walked closer, finally letting him see who they were. They were him, he was the figure. In his own voice the reflection gave it’s response.
“You’re-“
He woke up.
South Island
"You alright?"
Silver awoke with a sudden gasp, shooting up from where he previously lied on the ground. This gasp of surprise would be quickly followed with a yelp as he’d soon remember that he’d definitely broken something. Thankfully the broken bone in question was in his arm, meaning he wouldn’t have to worry about it poking into anything important. But that could wait for later because at the moment Silver had about the worst headache imaginable. He at first stumbled up to gratefully accept Shadow’s aide, only to soon push him away after a swell of nausea took over, causing him to blow chunks on the ground, making sure as to not accidentally puke onto Shadow’s shoes.
Once he was finished barfing up his lunch, Silver quickly went back to leaning onto Shadow for support, unable to walk steadily on his own. Based on the dizziness, nausea, and taking on blunt force trauma from a swift kick to the back of the head, the likelihood of having a concussion was worryingly high. He’d have to worry about that later as his support didn’t seem to be in a much better condition either. Together Silver and Shadow looked about as beat up as anyone could be, a miasma of bumps and bruises littering the both of them. If Silver wasn’t so dazed then he’d might have laughed at the sorry sight that was the two of them. Now though, he was really just focusing on not puking again.