There was no way to describe it.
It was pure rage - complete and uninhibited fury - unleashed upon but a single being. Not to say, though, that the being was undeserving of it. It was all the likely he deserved the gruesome fate of death by claws and fangs; death from the very monster he’d created. The monster itself, however… on the inside, it was scared and confused.
What happened to him? Why did he feel so… so angry all of a sudden? And, more importantly…
...what happened to the Chaos Emeralds?
…
When he came to, there was an ever-present aching in his skull, hands, and - oddly enough - his teeth. Opening his eyes proved to be difficult with some substance whipping at his eyes at a high speed, slowly shocking his senses back into waking order and returning feeling to his limbs.
He was falling.
And rather fast.
His body caught up with his brain and he began to flail, trying without use to find a sort of leverage to grab onto and halt his descent. The beast merely clawed, uselessly, at air, while the ground was growing eager to meet him. Barely a second passed before the majority of his head was buried in the ground, like a spooked ostrich. Pain flooded his system, reminding him of his aching forehead and teeth, and he fell limp, as if dead.
Only when the sensations finally calmed did he attempt to remove himself from the ground. Seeing as that didn’t work as well as he’d hoped, he began to dig instead, putting his hedgehog instinct to use. Digging for things wasn’t in any way foreign to him, yet he found the motions a little… awkward feeling. Even so, he did just take a leisurely dive from the freaking atmosphere, so the notion was ignored.
Happy to have his head free, he cleared the dirt from his nose, eyes and ears, gently clenching his jaw and licking over his teeth.
He paused.
His teeth weren’t sharp.
Well, some of them were, but not to this extent.
The Mobian went over them again just to be sure their head wasn’t tricking them, and he was given a nick on the tongue for his troubles, which made him wince and frown.
Fangs? What the heck had Eggman done to him to give him fangs? Looking down to himself, he soon found his answer.
Fur. Lots of it. This startled the midnight being, who jumped back and landed on an aching hand, turning his head and freezing at the sight of a slightly muscled appendage that was simply not his. Yet, it led from his shoulder, and ended in large, pale blue hands (paws?) tipped in deadly obsidian claws. The razors on his fingertips dug into the dirt, and he was almost scared to look to the rest of him, forcing himself to do so anyway.
At his back, his quills had grown longer and denser - possibly not as sharp, but still able to cause decent harm. Lower along, the quills seemed to fall into a mane of sorts, and a tail much longer than what he was used to grew from his rear, curled up partly between his legs. What caught his attention most, however, was the very noticeable lack of red where his feet should be.
Where are my shoes? The former speedster thought, forgetting his personal appearance and getting up to search for the shoes he’d cherished for oh so long now.
In his frantic rush, he almost stepped right into a puddle, jerking to avoid it and freezing from the flash of bright green. Was that…?
Going back to the little puddle of water, he leaned down to take a closer look at himself, and immediately cringed back. His fur was shaggier than he thought, and it showed in his face - along the brow and muzzle ends especially - with the fur on his muzzle being around the same shade of his hands… paws?
His eyes were very slanted and narrow, and if not for his shock making them wide, he’d bet that they would be set in a glare to rival a certain obsidian counterpart of his. His irises themselves, the little things that had caught his attention in the first place, almost seemed to be glowing green in the early morning darkness, sending an eerie feeling that made the beast shiver. He had to physically pull away in fear of otherwise getting lost in the glow, and glanced upon his other features, curious to how else he’d changed.
His ears were next, as they had grown longer and… thinner, almost seeming to resemble horns… Swiveling them around experimentally, the beast found that he could hear a plethora of noises that his brain usually tuned out; a few of them even coming from himself. Heartbeat, breathing, crickets, disturbed grass from his twitching tail, soft flutter of insects, lapping of waves against the shore, and faint birdsong from much, much further away. Upon looking around, he found no trees for quite a ways away from the old lighthouse where he’d landed. And much closer laid the shore of the ocean, which lapped at the island in a manner that seemed to threaten his continued existence.
He found himself turning away from the shore at the thought, instead turning into the brightness of the sun on the watery horizon, slowly filling the broken planet with warmth and a pleasant energy.
Being who he is, he was all for pleasant energies, yet this one felt different. So different, in fact, that his skin felt as though it were aflame whilst his insides seemed to compress far too much, inhibiting his ability to breathe for several seconds. He gasped and put a clawed hand to his throat, doubling over onto his remaining arm and curling up when it only made the compression intensify.
The sun rose higher still, yet did so at a snail’s pace, prolonging the beast’s suffering for much longer than he would’ve liked. The sensations of pain only intensified, then came forth in a great surge that forced his head back. And just like that, the feeling faded.
The lithe hedgehog shivered on the ground, slowly forcing his arms beneath himself to sit up. He quickly noticed the lack of heat, though upon opening his eyes, he was able to see what had caused it. Once again, his arms were back to their light brown colorations, hands of normal size and no longer bearing obsidian razors, but small, pearly claws.
His body shifted its weight over his legs, leaning back to observe further. Their fur had returned to its soft lapis lazuli shade and became tame once more, returning the streamline look to his body.
Slowly, shakily, he stood up and gave himself another look over, being made painfully aware of his lack in shoes or gloves. Considering how much he’d worn them outside, it was rather odd being without them - his shoes especially - though, he figured, until he could contact his brother or another of his close friends, he would have to deal with it.
The mobian carefully stretched, being himself rid of the leftover pains from the earlier transformation in preparation for his run. Even though he wouldn’t be going nearly as fast, it was still a must - lest he once again face the possibility of his legs cramping on him mid-stride. The ordeal he just went through would’ve made it all the more likely.
He fell into a pace that gradually became a semi-discernable blur in the case of most other sapient beings on the planet, though only a weak trot to a speedster such as himself. Despite how his legs itched to move faster and faster still, he held himself back with a frown. The pads on his feet were aching enough from the sudden lack of protection, though pushing any further would ensure massive injury. The itch only grew, and the hedgehog became antsy.
Let's hope Tails is somewhere nearby, the azure thought, speeding onto the mainland and towards the slowly nearing city.
