Knuckles was skeptical from the start. Sonic had been unusually giddy all day, practically bouncing off the walls of the house. And when he told Knuckles he had a "big surprise," Knuckles' suspicion only deepened. Surprises weren’t something he was accustomed to; his life had been a series of brutal truths, not pleasant revelations. But Sonic insisted, guiding him toward the living room with a ridiculous grin plastered on his face and his hands firmly over Knuckles’ eyes.

“Just trust me, Knux,” Sonic had said, his tone light and playful.

“Trust is earned, hedgehog,” Knuckles muttered, his voice low and gruff. His guard was up, as always.

When they stopped, Knuckles felt the familiar hum of the house, the distant buzz of electricity—modern comforts he still didn’t entirely understand. Sonic pulled his hands away.

“Surprise!” Sonic said, stepping aside with a dramatic flourish.

Knuckles blinked. His sharp lavender eyes zeroed in on the figure standing awkwardly behind Maddie.

An echidna.

A female echidna.

His mind froze for a moment, the world narrowing to just her. Red fur, sleek and vibrant, her quills were slightly shorter than his, with a faint curve to them. Her eyes—amber, sharp but cautious—met his. She stood smaller, but proud. Silent, like she was sizing him up too.

He tilted his head, his brow furrowing in disbelief. His heartbeat quickened, and he barely noticed how his quills bristled, rising defensively.

This had to be a trick. It had to be.

He stepped closer, circling her, taking each detail. He sniffed the air around her—not just for her scent but for anything that would betray this as some kind of illusion.

She smelled real.

Earthy. Familiar, in a way that tugged at something deep in his chest.

She couldn’t be real. She shouldn’t be real. His entire life—his tribe, his people, his purpose—was built around the idea that he was the last of his kind.

“Why are you alive?” he demanded, his voice sharper than he intended.

She shouldn't be... Alive.