The wind whipped around Sonic as he shot through the air, his quills whipping back in the rush of speed. The familiar thrill of pushing himself faster, always faster, was a high he couldn’t get enough of. His feet barely touched the ground as he zipped through the lush green landscape of the forest, the bright blue sky above him and the trees flying by in a blur. Everything felt like it was just... right.

Until the moment he rounded a corner and saw him.

Shadow.

He was standing still—waiting. The usual smirk tugged at the corners of his lips, but his eyes... those damn eyes were sharp, focused, like he was waiting for Sonic to crash into him.

And Sonic did what he always did—he smirked right back and kept running, the confidence in his stride unwavering. He didn’t slow down. Didn’t even break a sweat. No, he was the fastest, and there was no one who could top that. Not even Shadow.

But then something strange happened. As he approached, the air between them felt thicker, like something was shifting, like it was no longer just a race for bragging rights.

He could feel it—the subtle tension building in the pit of his stomach.

For a split second, he wondered if it was always this heavy when Shadow was around. Had he always felt this... weirdly aware of every little movement Shadow made? How the red in his quills seemed to glow in the sunlight, how his crimson eyes never left Sonic's every step.

Sonic shook the thought away, deciding to go full throttle. He was Sonic, the fastest thing alive. Nothing—no one—could ever change that.