*BOOM!*
The blast ripped through the street behind them, sending chunks of asphalt flying past David's head. He ducked, weaving between a parked car and a fire hydrant, his legs pumping like pistons. The kid in his arms was shaking so hard he could feel it in his own bones.
"He's still coming!" the kid screamed.
"I know!" David gritted his teeth. He could hear Flint behind them—the heavy pounding of his footsteps, the crackle of his explosions, the sound of a man who had stopped holding back.
This wasn't a chase anymore. This was a hunt.
Flint had removed any pretense of restraint. He was blowing up everything in his path—cars, streetlights, mailboxes, the road itself. He moved like a missile, each explosion propelling him forward with terrifying speed. His hockey mask was cracked, his clothes were torn, and his exposed skin was red and raw from the force of his own blasts. He looked like a demon from hell, and David felt his blood run cold every time he glanced back.
"Left!" the kid shouted. "Turn left! The market's that way!"
David's instincts screamed at him to trust the kid's navigation. But he didn't.
"The market? Are you insane?!"
"It's a straight line to the police department from there! We'll lose him, and the heroes can—"
"I don't care." David swerved right instead, heading down a narrower street. "I'm not leading him through a crowded market. He'll kill dozens of people."
"But—"
"No."
"But it's just a straight line from here! If we just—"
"I said no!"
David pushed harder. His lungs were on fire. His legs were starting to feel like they were made of lead. He'd been running at top speed for what felt like hours, but the alcohol in his system was making him sluggish. Even though most of it should have been burned off by now, he could still feel its effects clinging to him like a wet blanket.
Why am I so slow? he thought, frustrated.
Flint was getting closer. He could feel the heat of his explosions, taste the ash in the air. Another blast sent a car flying past them, missing by inches.
"154," David muttered under his breath. "156... 163? No, 158." His internal speedometer was going haywire. He knew exactly how fast he was running—it was a skill he'd honed over years of training. He knew his max was around 200, maybe 205 on a good day.
Today was not a good day.
He was stuck at 160. Every time he tried to push past it, his legs screamed in protest, and the alcohol in his system whispered for him to slow down, take it easy, let someone else handle it.
Why can't I go faster?
Flint's explosions grew louder. Closer.
"The kid..."
David glanced down at the boy in his arms. He was holding the artifact like it was the only thing keeping him alive, his knuckles white, his face pale with terror. He was shaking so hard David could feel it in his own body.
'I could drop him.'
The thought came unbidden, cold and pragmatic. 'I could throw him and the artifact to the side and use that extra second to escape. I'm fast enough to outrun Flint if I'm not carrying dead weight.'
He could live.
The kid's fear was palpable, his whole body trembling in David's arms. And somewhere, buried deep in the alcohol-soaked haze of his memory, another face surfaced. A woman's face. Her eyes, wide with terror, reaching out to him as she fell—
"I can't."
He said it out loud, barely a whisper.
"I won't."
He pushed.
165 kilometers per hour.
His legs screamed. His muscles burned. Something in his foot cracked, sending a spike of pain up his leg.
But he could still hear her screams when he closed his eyes.
"Not again," he whispered.
The kid looked up at him, confused. "What?"
"I said SHUT UP AND HOLD ON!"
David gritted his teeth and pushed.
The world blurred.
The kid screamed something in his ear. David didn't hear it.
He pushed harder.
170.
Flint's voice roared behind them. Rage, frustration, desperation.
175.
His toes started breaking. He could feel the bones snapping, one by one, under the strain. Each step was agony.
He remembered her face. That woman. The one he'd left behind. The one who'd clung to his hand as he ran, whose grip had slipped as he pulled away. The sound she'd made when she'd hit the ground—
"NOT AGAIN!"
He didn't realize he'd shouted it until the words were already out.
180.
His legs were burning. Every muscle fiber felt like it was being torn apart. But he didn't stop.
Flint's explosion screamed just behind them. David could smell the heat on the back of his neck.
185.
His legs were bleeding now. He could feel the blood soaking through his pants, leaving a trail behind him. The pain was blinding, white-hot, overwhelming.
But he didn't stop.
"I can't stop. I can't stop. I CAN'T STOP."
Not again. Not again. Not again.
Flint's explosions were closer now. David could feel the heat on his neck, smell the ozone and smoke. The big man was right behind him, reaching out with those massive hands—
190.
The world blurred. David's vision was tunneling, narrowing to a single point ahead of him.
*POP.*
Something in his knee gave way. He stumbled, nearly fell, caught himself.
"193... 194..."
He was breathing faster now. His heart pounded in his throat. The memories were coming thick and fast.
Not again.
Faster.
He had to be faster. He HAD to be faster.
"195... 196..."
The pavement blurred. A car park was a smear of color. Flint's roar was a little softer.
"197!"
He wasn't going to stop.
He wasn't going to leave someone behind again.
"198!"
His toes cracked, and he felt a rush of blood drip down his ankles.
"199!"
Heat. Pain. The taste of iron and despair. But he was still moving. He was still *fast*.
"200!"
The world exploded into white.
David wasn't sure if he'd crossed some invisible line or if the pain had simply become too much to process. But suddenly, he was moving faster than he'd ever moved before.
205.
The world became a blur of motion. The sounds of Flint's explosions faded into the background. He was running faster than he ever had before—faster than he had any right to—and he didn't care about anything else.
The only thing that mattered was that he kept moving, kept pushing, kept going.
Not again.
Not again.
Not again.
Not again.
Not again.
Not again.
The wind screamed past his ears. The buildings blurred into streaks of color. The ground beneath his feet was a smear of gray and black.
He was flying.
For a single, breathtaking moment, he was flying.
And then the pain caught up with him, and everything went dark.
◇◇◇
Pain.
That was the first thing I registered. Not a specific pain somewhere in my body. Just... pain. Everywhere. My head throbbed. My ribs screamed. My back felt like someone had taken a baseball bat to it.
I coughed, and something wet came up. Blood, probably. I didn't bother to check.
The last thing I remembered was... running. Being carried by Sonic. The explosions. The screaming. The wind rushing past us so fast it felt like my skin was being peeled off.
And then... nothing.
I must've passed out.
The world was blurry at first, swimming in and out of focus. I blinked, trying to clear my vision. Slowly, shapes began to take form.
"That's... w-wheat?"
I was lying in a field filled with wheat. Tall, golden stalks of wheat stretching out in every direction, swaying gently in a breeze I couldn't feel.
"..."
The sky above was blue. There were birds chirping somewhere. It was disgustingly peaceful.
"...Where am I?"
I pushed myself up, groaning as my muscles protested. My body felt like it had been put through a blender. Every movement sent fresh waves of pain through my system.
At the edge of the field, there was a farmhouse. A barn. A dirt road leading off into the distance. I didn't recognize any of it.
"...!?"
Then I smelled something like... Smoke? no. More like burning. Cooked meat.
My stomach turned.
I turned my head around.
"S-sonic...!!?"
Sonic was lying a few feet away from me, sprawled out in the dirt like a discarded doll. His costume was torn to shreds, revealing skin that was red and blistered. His legs... his legs were a mess. The skin was blackened in places, cracked and bleeding in others. I could see bone poking through in at least two places. His feet were twisted at angles feet weren't supposed to twist. His shoes had melted into the flesh of his feet.
His fingertips were bloody stumps, the nails torn off completely. His chest was rising and falling in shallow, irregular breaths. Blood pooled beneath him, soaking into the dirt, a dark red stain spreading slowly outward.
He looked like he'd been put through a meat grinder and then set on fire.
"Jesus christ..."
I scrambled over to him, ignoring the pain in my own body. His eyes were half-open, glassy and unfocused. His lips were moving, forming words I could barely hear.
"...so... so fucking sorry..."
I leaned closer. "What?"
"...sorry... so fucking sorry... I can't stop... I can't... I'm sorry... I'm sorry..."
His voice was so faint I could barely hear it. His lips moved slowly, painfully, as if forming each word took every ounce of strength he had left.
"..."
"Sorry... so sorry... I'm sorry... I'm sorry..."
"You're sorry?" I looked around, confused. "What are you sorry for? You saved my ass. Like, literally. You carried me out of there."
He was delirious. Repeating the same words over and over, like a broken record. His hand twitched, reaching out for something that wasn't there.
"...I'm sorry, Dana. I'm so, so sorry... I can't stop..."
"Sonic? Hey! Sonic!!?" I grabbed his shoulder, shaking him gently. "Can you hear me!?"
His eyes slowly focused on me. For a moment, there was recognition. Then his face crumpled, and a sound escaped his lips—a sound that was half-laugh, half-sob.
"...You're alive?"
"Y-yeah. I'm alive... Thanks to you."
"Are you alri—... you are gonna be alright. I-I'll call help."
"Tired..."
"I—I know. But you gotta stay awake. Help's coming. I'll call an ambulance, or—"
"There's no... there's no help coming." His voice was barely a whisper. "I pushed too hard. I broke myself."
"No. No, you're gonna be fine. You just need to—"
"Kid." His hand grabbed my wrist. His grip was weak, trembling. "Listen to me."
I stopped.
"I'm not gonna make it. I can feel it. My legs are gone. My insides are... they're fucked. I'm bleeding internally. Probably got a few organs that are... yeah."
"..."
"You're alive. That's what matters." He coughed, and blood trickled from the corner of his mouth.
"..."
"...Kill me."
The words hit me like a punch to the gut.
"... What?"
"Kill me." His voice was weak, but there was a desperate clarity in it. "I'm in so much pain, kid. I can feel everything. Every broken bone, every torn muscle. I can feel myself dying, and it's slow, and it hurts. Please... just make it stop."
"..."
I stared at him, my heart pounding.
"Hey," I said gently. "You're not gonna die. We'll get you help. You just gotta hold on for a little longer—"
"No."
His voice was suddenly sharp, cutting through the air. His eyes focused on me for the first time, and there was something in them that I didn't expect to see.
Desperation.
"... Just wait a little, I'll get you to a hospital—"
"...No hospital. No... help. Just... end it."
"What?"
"Kill me." His lips formed the words clearly, deliberately. "Please. It hurts. It hurts so much. I can't... I can't live like this. Not like this. Please."
I stared at him, my heart dropping into my stomach.
"N-no, no way, man. I'm not gonna—"
"Please." His hand grabbed my wrist, his grip surprisingly strong. "I lived with the pain for years. The guilt. The constant fucking nightmare of seeing her face every time I close my eyes. I can't... I can't do it anymore. I just want it to end."
"..."
He coughed, blood spilling from his lips. "I'm sorry. I know I'm being selfish. I know I'm asking you to do something horrible. But... I'm done. I'm so fucking done."
I looked down at my hands. They were shaking.
[System notification.]
[Host: David Collins]
[Gen 0 parasite filled: 10%]
[Gen 1 parasites ×3 filled: 3.33% each]
"..."
"Kid..." His voice was fading. "Please. I'm begging you."
"..."
His voice cracked. "I don't want to die alone in a wheat field, slowly bleeding out. I want it to be quick. I want it to be over. Please..."
"...Okay."
The word came out before I could stop it.
"...Tsk."
I let out a long sigh.
Then I put my hands on his neck.
Crack!
[Skin contact detected.]
[Parasite (Gen 0) detected.]
[Parasite (Gen 1) ×3 detected.]
[Collect?]
"... Yes."
[Ding!]
[Collecting parasites...]
The warmth spread through my palms, up my arms, into my chest. It felt like liquid fire, burning and exhilarating at the same time. I could feel the power flowing into me, filling a void I hadn't known existed.
[Collection complete.]
"..."
[FEED: Absorb the stolen power.]
[BREED: Spawn more parasites instead.]
"Feed."
[Gen 0: D-rank speedster power absorbed.]
[Gen 1 ×3: D-rank speedster power absorbed.]
[Total absorbed: 20% of D-rank speedster ability.]
[E-rank speedster power acquired. User can now move at speeds up to 40 km/h.]
I stared at the screen, reading the words over and over.
"Yay!... I got superpowers."