The train screeched to a halt at Station Square, brakes shrieking before settling with a hiss of steam. Doors slid open and passengers spilled out, their voices rising in a blur of chatter and hurried steps.

But one figure didn’t rush.

Soren the Hedgehog stepped out slowly, his bulky red shoes striking the pavement with weight and certainty. The wind tugged at his dark scarf, carrying the salt of the ocean breeze and teasing the shredded edges of his crimson cape. His sharp green eyes swept the skyline—the buildings, the neon, the hum of life. The city hadn’t changed much.

And yet, everything felt different.

Seven years had passed. Seven years since he’d walked these streets. Seven years since he’d left on that mission. Seven years since he’d last seen his little brother.

Soren adjusted the strap of his bag across his shoulder. His steps were steady but heavy, each echo reminding him of the distance between who he had been and who he was now. Faces blurred past, but his mind wasn’t on them. It was on Sonic.

Would Sonic even recognize him? The boy he’d left behind had grown into a hero. Meanwhile, Soren had been hardened by battles fought far from home, scarred by trials his brother never saw. Reckless choices, wrathful moments, scars hidden under the cape. And yet, he hoped the bond of brothers still held—that Sonic’s bright spirit could look past what the years had carved into him.

The city stretched before him like a memory reborn. He moved through the streets, cape brushing the night air, quills catching the glow of passing signs. A group of kids laughed as they painted graffiti. For a moment, he almost joined them—like he used to—but tonight wasn’t about old habits. Tonight was about something more.

At last, he reached it: Sonic’s home.

Warm light spilled from the windows, laughter floating into the night. Soren froze at the porch. His hand hovered over the door, but he didn’t knock. Not yet. Instead, he peered through the glass.

Inside, Sonic was there—his little brother. Not so little anymore. At the center of the room, Sonic radiated energy and joy. Around him sat his circle of friends: Knuckles with arms folded proudly, Tails tinkering with a gadget, Amy laughing brightly, Rouge lounging with effortless grace, Omega standing like a metallic sentinel. Shadow leaned in the corner, silent but present, while Silver and Blaze shared quiet words. Big loomed over Vector, who was mid-laugh at something Espio said as Charmy buzzed about. In the far corner, Vanilla sat with Cream, the little rabbit giggling with delight.

Soren’s throat tightened.

This was Sonic’s world now—full of allies, full of love. He didn’t need an older brother watching over him anymore.

For the first time, Soren felt the bitter sting of being unnecessary.

He had always been the protector, the shield. He’d trained himself to endure, to fight, to heal, to teleport into the thick of battle if it meant Sonic was safe. But staring through that glass, he saw his brother no longer stood alone. He was strong. Stronger than the boy Soren had left behind.

Pride swelled in his chest, but an ache cut deep. Was there still a place for him in Sonic’s life? Or was he just a shadow returning from the past, hoping to matter again?

His fingers curled against the strap of his bag, his cape whispering in the night wind. He could turn away now, fade back into the world he’d come from, and keep watching from the sidelines like a ghost.

And so he did.

Soren turned from the window and walked into the night, leaving only a single letter on the doorstep—a message from brother to brother. Then he disappeared into the streets once more, the weight of duty pulling him back to his team.