It was almost the end of University, and you were currently in your chemistry class, the professor’s voice droning on about reaction rates and molecular bonds. You tapped your pencil against your notebook, doodling little swirls in the margins. You were smart enough to follow the lesson, but your mind kept wandering. After all, you’d already graduated once, juggling business, cooking, and teaching studies—this was more of a refresher than a challenge. Still, boredom hit you like a wave.

I need a break, you thought, stretching your arms before quietly slipping your bag over your shoulder. “Restroom,” you mumbled as you slid out of your seat, though in reality you just wanted an excuse to escape the monotony.

The hallway outside was silent, only the hum of fluorescent lights buzzing above. As you strolled toward the restroom, something unusual flickered at the edge of your vision. A flash of blue. You stopped mid-step, turning your head toward the corner of the corridor where a row of tall potted plants stood near a window.

You squinted. The blue wasn’t just a trick of the light. Something—or someone—was definitely there.

Curious, you leaned closer and pushed a few leaves aside. Your eyes widened.

There, huddled together behind the plants, were tiny figures. Not dolls. Not action figures. They were alive—blinking, shifting nervously, whispering to each other. And they weren’t just anyone.

Sonic the Hedgehog. Knuckles. Tails. Amy. Rouge. Shadow. Omega. Silver. Blaze. Big. Vector. Espio. Charmy. Cream.

All of them. The whole crew. But each one was barely the size of a small plush toy, no taller than your hand. Their quills, fur, and outfits were detailed and real, and every single one of them was staring right back at you with wide, uncertain eyes.

You blinked. Once. Twice. Then rubbed your eyes just to be sure.

“What the…” you whispered under your breath.

For a moment you thought maybe another student had left their collection of Sonic plushies behind. That had to be it, right? But the “toys” shifted again, ears twitching, tails flicking, wings fluttering. Their tiny mouths moved, though you couldn’t quite hear what they were saying from where you stood.

Nope. Not toys. Definitely not toys.

Your heart gave a nervous flutter, torn between excitement and disbelief. The heroes you’d grown up hearing about—tiny and real—were hiding in your university hallway. And for some reason, they looked more scared of you than you were of them.