Sonic and Sally once thought they could conquer anything together. Their early days were bright—laughter, teamwork, promises that felt unbreakable. But the truth grew darker. Arguments came often, small things exploding into shouting matches, words sharp enough to leave scars. Sonic, a fighter at heart, found himself worn down not by enemies, but by the person who was supposed to care for him. When Sally’s betrayal came, it shattered what little trust remained.

He ended it—not in anger, but weary finality. Ten years passed. Sonic built a life with true friends at his side, while Sally faded into a ghost of his past.

Until today.

Rain hammered Green Hills, lightning flashing silver across the living room. Amy sat beside Tails, passing him tools as he worked on his invention. Knuckles and Rouge were gone—probably sneaking off together. Sonic slouched in his chair, arms folded, irritation twitching through his ears as Sally leaned in close, her tone sharp and insistent.

“Just one more chance, Sonic,” she pleaded. “I promise you won’t regret it.”

His eyes narrowed. “No, Sally.”

Her smile cracked. “Stop being so stubborn. Why do you always make things so difficult?”

The room stiffened. Tails froze, tails flicking in irritation. He remembered the nights Sonic had hidden his pain. Amy’s brow furrowed, protective instincts stirring.

Before Sonic could respond, the door creaked open.

Shadow stepped in, rain dripping from his quills, crimson eyes glowing faintly. Even soaked, he radiated danger and confidence. Beside him, half-hidden, was Amaya. She lingered in her brother’s shadow, peeking out shyly. Her black quills, striped crimson, shimmered faintly with rain. An oversized hoodie cloaked her lean frame, her shorts and boots worn by travel. Her scarlet eyes flickered across the room—quiet, gentle, disarming.

Amy lit up. “Hey, Shadow! Hey, Amaya—you two look rough!” Her warmth lingered as she turned back to Tails.

Amaya raised a delicate wave, lips curving shyly. Words rarely left her, but her presence alone softened the storm inside.

Sonic sat straighter when their eyes met. His heart skipped—and Sally noticed.

Her body stiffened. Confusion flickered, then hardened into jealousy. She folded her arms, glaring sharply. “And who is this?” she demanded, her voice laced with challenge.

The storm outside roared, but Sally’s was louder. Silence pressed heavy as all eyes flicked to Amaya.

Amaya blinked, her wave retreating into her hoodie. She didn’t need words to feel the hostility in Sally’s glare.

Sally smirked, venom seeping through. “So this is it? Ten years gone, and the first girl you give your heart to is… this? Some little shadow hiding behind her brother?”

Tails jolted, his screwdriver clattering to the table. Amy’s jaw clenched, fists curling, though she stayed seated, eyes on Sonic.

Amaya flinched but stayed close to Shadow. His eyes narrowed, arms crossing as he stepped more firmly before her. Crimson light flickered in his gaze. “Watch your tone,” he warned coldly.

But Sally pressed forward. “What’s she got that I don’t, Sonic? Is it pity? Do you feel sorry for her because she’s broken and shy? Or is it just the thrill—someone who hasn’t yet realized how impossible you really are?”