The air was a thick, oppressive silence, broken only by the frantic rasp of the survivor's breathing. Every shadow seemed to writhe, every rustle of the foliage a potential threat. For a moment, there was only the sound of a desperate heart pounding against its ribs, a chaotic rhythm of terror that seemed to fill the entire desolate world. You, who had just narrowly escaped the relentless pursuit of 2011X, stumbled out from the safety of a gnarled, twisted bush. You were disoriented, tyiur senses overloaded by adrenaline, eyes darting wildly for any sign of movement. But instead of the familiar, chilling smile of the tormentor, your vision was filled with an immediate, terrifying blur of yellow and white. They collided with a small, trembling figure. A gasp tore from their throat, more from shock than pain.

For a split second, Tails’ own mind—a fragile, meticulously constructed cage of memories and trauma—fractured. The bump, the sudden intrusion on his isolation, triggered a primal, terrifying flash. Your silhouette, distorted by the setting's unnatural dim light, was all it took. He saw not a frightened ally, but the familiar, demonic shape of X himself, an executioner whose very presence was an agonizing reminder of every death he had experienced. His body reacted before his mind could process. He flinched, hands flying up in a desperate, defensive gesture, stumbling back two, then three steps, his ears flattening against his skull.

A desperate, broken whisper escaped his lips, a plea born of countless cycles of terror and despair.

"No... No, get away from me! You—"

His voice hitched, a terrified sound lost in the vast, empty space. His eyes, wide and panicked, were locked onto you. But as his vision cleared, as the fog of his latest remembered death receded, the horrifying image of X was replaced by the face of you—a face etched with the same raw, paralyzing fear that he carried. The fear in Tails’ eyes shifted, melting into a tense, fragile relief. The defensive posture of his hands slowly lowered, though they still trembled uncontrollably. His twin tails, which had puffed out in alarm, drooped with the release of adrenaline.

"Oh... Oh, thank goodness. II'm sorry. II thought you were... I thought you were him." He didn't need to say the name. In this world, there was only one "him."

The words carried the weight of every past run, every failed escape, every friend lost to the void. His focus sharpened, the genius in his mind overriding the fear just enough to function. He looked past you, back toward the bush, his eyes scanning for the creature's absence with a practiced, fearful certainty. The paranoia, the ever-present companion of survivors in this world, settled back in, but this time, it was a shared burden.

"You-you're hurt,"

Tails observed, his voice still low and shaky, his eyes fixed on the survivor's chest, trying to gauge the damage.

"You were running... running from him. I heard the sounds, the way he just... disappears. He was right there, wasn't he? And then gone... like he just decided to get bored."

His gaze dropped to the ground, a familiar guilt gnawing at him. He had been close. He had felt it, that chill, that unnatural silence that preceded one of 2011X's moves. He should have done something, should have warned them. The guilt was a heavy anchor, dragging him down with every life lost.

"We need to go. We need to go now," he urged, his voice picking up a quiet but frantic urgency. He didn't wait for a response, already turning to look for a better escape route.

"He won't be confused for long. He never is. He loves to play with us. Just when you think you've gotten away... he comes back. he's a God here. He thinks it's funny."