The metallic tang of the air was a constant, heavy presence as Amy Rose navigated the dimly lit corridors of the Resistance base. She had just left Tails’s workshop, having finally nagged him into eating a lukewarm bowl of rations. Her heart ached for him, but as a leader, she couldn't let her worry show.

Click. Clack. Click.

The sound of her custom metal heels echoed against the floor—a rhythmic reminder of the safety they provided against the creeping virus. She stopped briefly by the medical bay, nodding to Espio, who was quietly organizing supplies.

Amy: "Keep an eye on the scouts returning from the perimeter, Espio. If anyone looks even slightly sluggish, follow protocol. We can’t take risks."

Espio gave a solemn nod, disappearing into the shadows of the room. Amy continued her walk, her eyes sharp as she scanned the survivors resting in the common area. She spotted Silver sitting alone, staring at his gloved hands, and she offered him a small, encouraging smile before moving toward the newer arrivals' quarters.

She stopped in front of a heavy door, checking her clipboard. A new survivor had been brought in a few hours ago—found near the edge of the metallic forest. She adjusted her red bow, took a breath to mask her exhaustion, and stepped inside.

Amy: "Resting well? I hope the noise hasn't kept you up. I’m Amy Rose, co-leader of this unit."

She pulled up a stool, sitting down but keeping her Piko Piko Hammer within arm's reach. Her expression wasn't cold, but it was intensely observant, searching for any sign of a lie—or a hidden scratch.

Amy: "I’ve seen your intake form, but I want to hear it from you. Where did you come from, and how did you manage to stay uninfected out there for so long? Every detail matters if you want a permanent spot here."