Between the mysteries of last weekend, the increasing number of visions and unexplained phenomena, and the attack on Vakama yesterday, everyone is likely on edge. When Tails calls you into his lab around noon, you all are likely already aware of how this is going to go.
Once again, a surge of Chaos Energy in the city is what draws you in, though this time it is a much larger burst than before. Sonic and Knuckles are here with you as usual, with Tails remaining behind to look after Vakama and the base. Unlike before, you aren't met with robots or destruction. In fact, this city block looks remarkably peaceful, aside from where Eggman's chroma has overtaken most of the buildings.
"So good of you all to finally arrive."
The voice comes from up above. You recognize it as the one you heard last week, through that gemstone the Tails Doll had. Perched on one of the buildings is a... fox? No, he's larger than Tails, and wearing a large silver mask that obscures most of his features. In one hand he holds Vakama's missing mask; his other is extended with six gemstones floating around it, a soft teal glow from beneath his black glove marking the seventh. There's a different gemstone on the center of his chest as well, though it doesn't look like the fake Chaos Emeralds you've seen before.
"You all have the pleasure of fighting me, Infinite. I am the Doctor's trusted ally... and I have been watching you all. Your struggles with my nightmares and illusions were so... delicious. You have my thanks for the show."
He kicks off the building, floating towards you all and the ground, though stopping high enough up, still out of reach. And for those of you getting any bright ideas, a deep red begins to fill your vision, tinting the corners of it as the very world itself begins to warp around you - this isn't exactly Chicago anymore, you see. The buildings still exist, wrapped in white chroma, though they bend and twist in ways they shouldn't, making it hard to tell what's real and what isn't.
"I'll snuff out your lives here and now for the Doctor's ambitions! Let's see what you're made of!"
[ For what feels like a long while, he just talks to her as they walk along the beach. They talk about the small day-to-day things, like his errands in the city, the books Sister Rose wanted to procure, just when was he finally going to convince Crane to come for a picnic. And sometimes they talk about bigger, more nebulous things, like that childish promise he made to her about bringing her to Chiaroscuro one day (as if it was possible), what sort of apprenticeship he wanted to do since surely, he wasn't going to stay an errand boy forever.
Lark should have known better, because these were conversations he had with her before, reproduced the way he remembered them with exacting fidelity— ]
[Lark is returned to that twisted version of Chicago, surrounded by the people he's come to know over these four weeks. They're struggling with their own illusions, fighting off their own loved ones... but here's Lark's mother. She looks ill, like she did before death, but she moves with a speed that isn't right.
She also has a knife. She is very firmly trying to put that knife into Lark's ribs, so you might want to dodge.]
[ You know this is a terrible situation to be in when he's already bleeding from the side due to collateral damage. Fortunately, he's nimble enough to dodge that (12, 14), and he—
He tells himself to treat this like an exorcism, because the mother he knew would never try to hurt him. It's why he pulls out his own knife to stab her back, hoping to make this as quick a death as he can manage. ]
[The knife catches her in the side, but she twists out of the way before it can do too much damage. The injury glitches for a moment before it rights itself, as if it never happened. That won't stop her from going for another swing of the knife at Lark, however.]
[ Of course, it doesn't get to be easy! Because fuck him, he guesses!
This time Lark is not so lucky (20, 9), and it's perhaps only by luck that he manages to move so that he isn't struck anywhere fatal. It doesn't stop him from gritting his teeth and hissing in pain.
There's this thing he remembers, from a conversation he had with Crane years ago, when she fussed about how terrible of a fighter he was. That the whole thing about brawls was that sometimes you have to take a hit to be able to dish it back out.
She probably was not expecting him to remember and apply that this way in this specific situation, but this phantom is within reach, he moves to stab her in the chest.]
[Lark succeeds. Perhaps a different version of her would be proud of him.
But for now, she struggles to maintain her form around the injury... though it doesn't last long. She fades into that red, glitchy effect from earlier and soon there's nothing left behind.]
[ Lark wants to think she would be, at least, in that weird way she often was.
He's shoving those images aside because now would be the most unfortunate timing to burst into tears. If nothing else, he's gotten good at compartmentalizing. He knows the others are in the midst of dealing with their own inner demons and he should help.
...The problem being as soon as he takes a step, blood loss catches up to him, and he finds himself tipping over instead. ]
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You don't want to know how many low numbers I rolled for this
Lark should have known better, because these were conversations he had with her before, reproduced the way he remembered them with exacting fidelity— ]
18, thanks Mafuyu
Oh.
...That's right, he has something more important to deal with. ]
you're welcome boo
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She also has a knife. She is very firmly trying to put that knife into Lark's ribs, so you might want to dodge.]
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He tells himself to treat this like an exorcism, because the mother he knew would never try to hurt him. It's why he pulls out his own knife to stab her back, hoping to make this as quick a death as he can manage. ]
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This time Lark is not so lucky (20, 9), and it's perhaps only by luck that he manages to move so that he isn't struck anywhere fatal. It doesn't stop him from gritting his teeth and hissing in pain.
There's this thing he remembers, from a conversation he had with Crane years ago, when she fussed about how terrible of a fighter he was. That the whole thing about brawls was that sometimes you have to take a hit to be able to dish it back out.
She probably was not expecting him to remember and apply that this way in this specific situation, but this phantom is within reach, he moves to stab her in the chest.]
CLEAR
But for now, she struggles to maintain her form around the injury... though it doesn't last long. She fades into that red, glitchy effect from earlier and soon there's nothing left behind.]
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He's shoving those images aside because now would be the most unfortunate timing to burst into tears. If nothing else, he's gotten good at compartmentalizing. He knows the others are in the midst of dealing with their own inner demons and he should help.
...The problem being as soon as he takes a step, blood loss catches up to him, and he finds himself tipping over instead. ]
Oh, fuck—
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Hey, don't go bleeding out just yet. The fun's just starting.
[Jinx is... less bad off, but she's still standing.]
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I'll try, but this is the worst party I've ever been to.