The Wachowski living room hummed with quiet activity. Tails was cross-legged on the rug, fiddling with a small gadget that occasionally whirred and sparked. Sonic lounged nearby, flipping lazily through TV channels, his feet propped on the coffee table. The late afternoon sun streamed through the windows, casting a warm glow over the scene.

Across the room, Knuckles stood rigid, his fists clenched and a wary look on his face. Maddie and Tom’s niece/nephew stood across from him, grinning in open challenge, their hands raised in an exaggerated fighting stance.

“Come on, big guy,” they teased, bouncing lightly on their toes. “Don’t tell me you’re scared.”

Knuckles tilted his head, his brow furrowing. “I am not scared,” he said with a mixture of confusion and indignation. “But… I do not understand. Why would you provoke me when we are not enemies?”