"I've studied *so much* about you—well, technically *future* you, but time is basically just spaghetti anyway at this point—and oh wow your quills are way softer than I imagined!"
Silver barely had time to process her words before she was poking his chest fur with scientific precision—her nose scrunched up, light blue eyes gleaming with the intensity of someone who'd just discovered the eighth wonder of the world. "Okay, hold on—your psychic signature is *way* more stable than the archives said! Did you eat something weird? Oh! Oh! Did future-you finally figure out that meditation trick I suggested in my last letter?" She gasped again, louder this time, nearly headbutting Silver's chin as she flailed midair. "WAIT DID YOU GET MY LETTERS? I sent like *thirty* through the time rift but the last one had *strawberry jam* on it—"
Silver blinked—slowly, deliberately—like a man watching a tornado made entirely of glitter and caffeine. Gold's forehead marking pulsed brighter as she vibrated in place, her scarf somehow managing to tangle around her own elbow without wind assistance. "Uh," he managed, dodging a stray psychic spark that singed his glove, "letters? Time rift? *Strawberry jam?*"
Gold squeaked, slapping both paws over her mouth hard enough to make her ears bounce. "Right! Right! Spoilers! No spoilers!" she whisper-yelled through her fingers before abruptly zooming behind Silver to examine his quills from every possible angle. "But also *yes* spoilers because *obviously* you'd need to know about the—ohhhh but if I tell you then the causality loop might—*ugh* time travel is *so* inconvenient!" Her voice cracked on the last word as she accidentally levitated a nearby stapler into the ceiling with her frustration.
Silver rubbed his temples—immediately regretting it as his gloves snagged on fur that was somehow both too fluffy and too stressed—and exhaled through his nose. Somewhere behind them, the fox scientist was now attempting to weld the stapler back together with a laser pointer and what appeared to be sheer denial. "Okay," Silver said, voice straining under the weight of existential whiplash, "let's start simpler—who *are* you?"
Gold froze mid-air—scarf still fluttering like it hadn't gotten the memo—before her eyes widened comically. "OH RIGHT! Introductions! I'm Gold!" she announced, flipping upright with a spin that sent her chest fur gleaming under the fluorescent lights. "I'm *technically* your version of Blaze the Cat... Kinda?"
Silver blinked—slowly, deliberately—like a man watching a tornado made entirely of glitter and caffeine. "You're *what* now?"
Gold gasped—again—clapping her paws together with enough force to make the floating clipboard spin wildly off-course. "WAIT NO THAT'S WRONG—I mean I'm *your* partner! Or—fuck—your *counterpart*? Wait no—" She groaned, rubbing her temples hard enough to make her forehead marking flicker. "Okay, okay, rewind—I'm *your* Blaze. Sort of. But psychic. And also way cooler."
Silver exhaled through his nose—a sound that came out half-growl thanks to Gold's psychic interference making his gloves buzz—and gestured vaguely at the gleaming Resistance HQ. "And *this*?"
Gold's entire face lit up—literally, her forehead marking pulsed gold—as she zoomed forward, nearly knocking Silver's nose with her muzzle. "RIGHT! So—okay, don't freak out—but Nox *changed* everything. Like, *everything* everything." She gestured wildly at the pristine walls. "No Doctor Eggman! No apocalypse! Just... *this*!"
Silver stared—first at Gold, then at everything else before he asked a question he didn't want to, "And what about Eggman Nega? Does he still exist somehow?"
Gold immediately winced—her ears flattening against her head—and Silver knew the answer before she even spoke. "Ohhh... I have no idea who that is? Is he like, an alternate version or clone of Doctor Eggman?"
"I don't know, but what you just told me means the Sol Dimension might be in danger," Silver muttered, rubbing his temples as Gold gasped—again—her psychic energy flaring wildly enough to send a nearby holographic display spinning like a disco ball. "Waitwaitwait, the Sol Dimension?!" she squeaked, zooming in so close Silver could count the individual strands of her chest fur. "That's where Blaze is from, right? Oh my Chaos, does this mean I get to meet her?!" Her forehead marking pulsed bright enough to cast shadows as she vibrated midair, scarf tangling around her own ankle.
Silver exhaled through his nose—slowly, deliberately—as Gold accidentally levitated three separate office supplies into orbit with her excitement. "Focus," he said, plucking a floating stapler out of the air before it could collide with her skull. "Eggman Nega's a time traveling and dimension traveling lunatic who's obsessed with if not ruling, then destroying *everything*. If he's not here..." His gloves sparked with nervous energy, sending a stray paperclip ricocheting off Gold's forehead marking.
"But if it's *time travel and dimension travel* residue—OH MY CHAOS THAT'S SO COOL!" Gold squealed, flipping upright so fast her scarf slapped Silver across the face. Her eyes glowed pale yellow as psychic energy crackled around her, sending floating office supplies into frantic orbits. Silver wiped stray sparks from his cheek, watching as Gold accidentally levitated an entire desk sideways—her forehead marking pulsing in time with her erratic breathing.
Silver sighed—slowly, deeply—like a man watching a hurricane rearrange his furniture. "Gold. Focus." He grabbed her shoulders mid-spin, halting her momentum with the practiced ease of someone who'd stopped Tails mid-ramble at least twelve times. Gold froze, ears twitching as her scarf slowly untangled itself from a ceiling fan. "Right! Right. Sorry," she muttered, rubbing her nose in a gesture that was definitely not embarrassed. "It's just—time dilation *and* dimensional overlap? That's like finding out chili dogs are calorie-free!"
Somewhere behind them, the fox scientist coughed pointedly—their welding project now suspiciously resembling a time machine built from spare parts and wishful thinking. Gold's ears perked up, her psychic aura flickering like a faulty neon sign as she zoomed toward the half-assembled device. "Waitwaitwait—if we recalibrate the chrono-emitter to account for Sol Dimension harmonics—" she began, only for Silver to yank her back by the scarf before she could touch anything.
"First," Silver said, voice strained like a fraying psychic tether, "we find Nox. *Then* we don't blow up the space-time continuum." Gold pouted—her forehead marking dimming to a sulky glow—but nodded, fingers twitching like she was physically restraining herself from taking apart the nearest machine.
Silver exhaled—half-relieved, half-dreading the inevitable—as Gold immediately whipped out a notepad and started scribbling equations midair, her tongue poking out in concentration. "Okay but *hypothetically*," she whispered, eyes gleaming with the dangerous glint of someone five seconds away from rewriting physics, "if we *did* recalibrate the chrono-emitter—"
"Yeah, but we need to go... NOW." Silver grabbed Gold's wrist just as she was about to spiral into another theory—her fingers still sparking with untapped psychic equations—and yanked her toward the exit. Gold yelped, scrambling midair like a startled kitten, her scarf tangling around Silver's arm in a way that should've been impossible. "Waitwaitwait—I was *so close* to figuring out the dimensional resonance frequency!" she whined, but Silver wasn't having it, dragging her through the sliding doors with the desperation of someone who'd seen enough time loops to know when to *move*.
Gold stumbled mid flight, her golden fur catching the sunlight in a way that made her look like a disco ball with anxiety. She was already pulling her notepad back out—because of *course* she kept spare notes tucked into her scarf—and scribbling equations with one hand while Silver dragged her along with the other. "Okay, but *hypothetically*," she whispered, eyes flickering pale yellow with restless energy, "if we *do* find Nox before he becomes *the* Nox, how do we explain why we look like two raccoons who got into a time-traveling dumpster?"
Silver didn't answer—mostly because he was too busy watching Gold's psychic aura accidentally turn a nearby trashcan into origami. He sighed—the kind of sigh reserved for people who'd *also* had to stop Tails from weaponizing a toaster—and tightened his grip on her wrist. "Gold. *Focus.*"
Gold blinked—slowly, deliberately—like someone realizing they'd left the stove on in another dimension. "Right! Right. No dumpster metaphors. Got it." She stuffed the notepad back into her scarf (somehow), then immediately gasped—again—as her forehead marking pulsed bright enough to cast shadows. "WAIT. What if Nox *already knows*? Like, what if he's *expecting* us because future-us already warned past-him? Ohhh, that'd explain the causality loop in the—"
Silver yanked her into an alleyway—partly to avoid being seen, partly to avoid Gold accidentally unraveling the fabric of reality in a Malwart parking lot. He pressed a finger to her muzzle—ignoring how her nose scrunched up in protest—and hissed, "Gold. *Focus.* We need a plan, Eggman Nega is who knows where and when and we need to see what Nox knows."
"Okay, got it." She said while nodding enthusiastically, and then—
They were in that exact same spot.
200 years in the past.
Again.
Silver blinked—slowly, deliberately—as the alleyway around them shimmered like a heat mirage before resolving into the same damn spot, just... older. The bricks were less cracked, the graffiti less faded, and the unmistakable scent of chili dogs lingered in the air like a cheap cologne. Gold wobbled midair, her scarf tangled around her own elbow again, and immediately face planted into a dumpster that definitely hadn't been there before. "Ow. Okay. So we *did* time travel," she muttered into the metal, her voice muffled by what sounded like a half-eaten pretzel. Silver pinched his nose—partly from the smell, partly from existential fatigue—as Gold peeled herself off the dumpster with a wet *schlorp* noise.
The distant sound of a spring *boinging* echoed from somewhere downtown.
Sonic was probably near there.
And so was Nox.
Gold gasped—again—as she spotted him across the street, lounging against a flickering neon sign with the casual arrogance of someone who'd *definitely* practiced this pose in a mirror. His fur was pitch-black under the city lights, crimson eyes glowing faintly against the dusk, one leg propped up against the wall like he was waiting for his album cover shoot.
Silver groaned internally—of *course* Nox had mastered the art of looking effortlessly cool while doing absolutely nothing.
They approached cautiously—Gold buzzing with barely-contained excitement, and Silver with annoyance, "I thought I asked you to watch over my apartment?" He sighed, arms crossed, staring at Nox, who smirked and adjusted his scarf dramatically—though Silver noticed the faint tremor in his claws. "Relax, Amy already had business at Resistance Headquarters so she decided to stay and look over the place, Sonic insisted that we were too cramped, and he was half right it seems." Silver blinked—slowly, deliberately—like a man watching a tornado rearrange his tax returns.
Gold zoomed forward—her scarf somehow managing to tangle around a nearby lamppost mid-flight—and skidded to a halt inches from Nox's muzzle. "Oh my *Chaos* you're *right here*!" she squealed, vibrating with enough energy to make Silver's gloves spark sympathetically. Nox blinked—slowly, deliberately—like a cat watching a particularly hyperactive Roomba. "Uh," he began, glancing at Silver with palpable concern, "is she *always* like this?"
Silver sighed—the kind of sigh reserved for people who'd *also* had to explain why Tails once tried to weaponize a toaster—and rubbed his temples. "Unfortunately, from what I've seen in the past twenty minutes." Gold gasped—again—her forehead marking pulsing gold as she zoomed circles around Nox. "Okay but WAIT—are you *really* Sonic's grandson? Because future Silver *mentioned* you but he was *super* vague about timelines and also possibly drunk on Chaos energy?"
Nox blinked—slowly, deliberately—like someone realizing they'd left the oven on in another dimension. "Uh," he said eloquently, "wouldn't this be spoilers?"
"We're all time travelers here, so only half way so." Silver replied stoutly.
Unknown to all of them, someone was watching them.
And he was smiling like a mad man.