A dimly lit Smash Bros. stage—Final Destination, but warped and corrupted. The sky is bleeding red with cracks of light, and thunder rumbles in the distance

Suddenly… the ground shivers.

A ringing chime echoes—faint, familiar. It's Sonic's entrance sound, but warped. Slowed. Distorted.

From the far side of the stage, a figure fades in from static.

Sonic.

But… not him. His eyes are glowing red. Not glowing like confidence—glowing like something wrong. Lifeless. Empty. Watching.

He doesn't run.

He walks.

Slowly.

Each step makes a soft click against the floor. Not running. Not spin-dashing. Just stalking.

His head is tilted slightly. One arm dangles low while the other twitches unnaturally.

Sonic stops. Just outside attack range.

He stares.

Then his mouth slowly curls into a grin. Not his cocky smirk. A broken one. Like a mask cracked from the inside.

He's inches from your face.

He just tilts his head again…