Act 1

Time had largely lost all meaning for Sonic. Without windows or any form of clock other than the near imperceptible 120Hz flicker of the perpetually illuminated overhead lights, the only periodic event of note was his meager tasteless meals.

A tiny robot delivered the tin tray of amorphous grey slop. Sonic easily snatched the soulless bot a few times, but each time he did, he found himself the path of least resistance between the charged floor and ceiling. He only needed a reminder of how painful electrocution was a few times before he got bored of it. When Sonic finally got free, he’d avail Tails with a firsthand account of being in the middle of a capacitor.

Even meals were a poor indicator of the passage of time, given how prominent his ribs were getting. He drew heavily on his chaos energy to sustain himself and his physique in preparation for the one little opening he’d need to escape this hell. In the meantime, he tried to preserve his sanity despite the lack of stimulation.

The Doctor had really done it this time. That new weapon he’d made, the Phantom Ruby, was a doozy. Sonic considered himself a pretty flexible dude. Able to roll with the punches and adapt to some pretty rapidly changing circumstances when it came to Egghead and his machinations. But no well is bottomless. Apparently, luck had finally punched Sonic’s ticket.

But, also, like, that fight had been wickedly unfair. Sonic normally wasn’t one to complain, but come on!

Okay, so Metal? Handleable. Chaos? Been there done that. Zavok? Alone the guy’s a push over. But all three at once out of nowhere? Yeesh, that’s kinda of a lift, but Sonic was always up for a challenge. He could have made it work but then you…you throw in…

Well, there was this other guy, too. Infinite. Like the guy comes out no where with all these crazy powers. Sonic got overwhelmed, especially with Tails right there. He really hoped Tails got away okay from that tussle.

“You look like shit, hedgehog.”

The deep voice ripped Sonic out of the fitful doze he spent most of his waking minutes in. His jaw tightened and that traitorous little part of him that held out hope in his heart lost a little more strength. Sonic raised his head from where it had been resting against his knees. “Makes sense.” He replied, his voice strained from misuse. “I feel like shit.”

On the other side of the glowing barrier of blue energy pinning Sonic in, Shadow the Hedgehog leered down on the fallen blue blur, his red eyes miscolored purple by the forcefield. “It suits you.”

Sonic sighed. He didn’t want to play this game anymore. “If you say so, Shads.”

Shadow stepped through the barrier like it wasn’t even there. Sonic had no idea how that worked because the blue energy shocked the ever-living hell out of Sonic when he so much as got close to it. Maybe that was another quality of the Ultimate Lifeform? Sonic pushed weakly to his feet, leaning hard on the wall, and raised his fists. “Please, Shads.” He hated how weak his voice was. “Don’t do this.”

The corner of the dark hedgehog’s mouth quirked up, revealing a wickedly sharp fang. “Do what, Sonic?”

Sonic lowered his hands, the will for resistance draining quickly. He was so tired. So tired of trying to fight and having his shit kicked in. Tired of begging for an explanation as to why Shadow had betrayed him and their friends. Tired of what all their encounters always ended with now.

But if he fully gave up, if he let his mind break free of reality and try to escape, Infinite was waiting for him, ready to snatch him up and drag him into a nightmare of staggering pain.

The rules were different wherever-it-was Sonic went when Infinite nabbed his consciousness. His thoughts formed and moved differently, the laws of physics were inconsistent and wonky, the impossible didn’t seem to set off any red flags. Most importantly, his memory was spotty at best. When the nightmare started, he never remembered how he got there or what was happening to him in the real world.

So, he believed everything that would then happen in the illusion was real. Over and over and over again Sonic was fooled.

Sometimes he was escaping his cell and the Eggbase he was being held in. Others he was going for a run in Green Hill. Occasionally he’d be at his birthday, massive plate of delicious chilidogs sitting in front of him.

No matter the scenario, though, the end was always the same.

Everyone he ever cared about dead around him, killed violently in some way or another. Infinite’s favorite scenario by far was for Sonic to be executioner. Eggman always won, always took over the world, enslaved or eradicated everything organic, and Sonic was left to boil in the guilt and shame of his failure until the nightmare ended.

So, Sonic tried to stay with Shadow for as long as he could, no matter what the dark hedgehog did to him. That way, at least only Sonic was the one suffering. Even if his friends in the nightmare weren’t real, he’d still do everything in his power to save them from a terrible fate for as long as he could.

Sonic frowned at Shadow. He knew it was coming, but even so, he barely moved in time to avoid the punch. Weak and slow, he couldn’t get his feet under him as he threw himself to the side, hitting the floor hard. He cried out as pain lanced through the wrist with which he’d caught most of his weight. Above, Shadow slowly retracted his fist from the new divot he’d made on the metal wall.

“Get up.” Shadow commanded in that tone that used to make Sonic weak in the knees. Sonic cradled his injured wrist and rolled off his back. He made it to all fours, wincing at any weight he put on his fresh injury. “Get. Up.” Shadow growled, an undertone of unmobian clicks punctuating the implied threat.

Sonic tried. He really did. He dug deep, mustering his conviction, pushed past the pain and hurt and betrayal. He inflamed his competitiveness and ego. How could he be so weak in front of Shadow like this, right? That had to be worth a bit of motivation. But his furnace sputtered and his head slumped, his forehead coming to rest on the filthy, cold steel floor.

“Pathetic.” The steel rim of Shadow’s air shoe impacted Sonic’s ribs with enough force that the blue hedgehog blacked out. Blinking, when he reentered the world, Sonic was slumped against the far wall. He’d barely had a moment to breathe before Shadow wrapped his clawed hand around Sonic’s throat and hoisted him into the air.

Shadow slammed Sonic against the metal wall, his bare feet kicking uselessly. Both of Sonic’s hands clutched at Shadow’s wrist in a weak attempt to keep his body weight off his windpipe, so he had no defense when Shadow began to grope the flesh of his chest near his scars. What was once toned was now little more than a thin sheet of skin tented over a scaffolding of bones. Shadow’s fingers were unkind, digging in with bruising force.

Sonic squeezed his eyes close as Shadow leaned close and whispered in his ear. “I can’t believe I ever loved anything as weak and disgusting as you.” Sonic whimpered and tears pricked the edges of his eyes despite his chronic dehydration.

In the blink of an eye, Shadow flipped the hero to face the wall. Sonic tried to gasp in some air now that his throat was unrestricted, but everything was pushed out of him as Shadow slammed his body into Sonic, pinning him tightly between freezing metal and burning flesh. That was when Sonic felt something unfathomably long and hard pushing into his lower back.

Do you want me to make him stop, Sonic?

I don’t want anything from you.

Shadow’s hand roughly spread Sonic’s legs and pawed at the barely healed holes between them. Sonic felt himself slipping away, his mind desperately trying to protect him from what was about to happen. He had so little left in the tank, but he managed to stay in his body, sandwiched and about to be abused.

“Which one today?” Shadow growled in Sonic’s ear, sharp claws stabbing between his thighs and inserting into sacred places. “Hmmm, I think I’m in the mood for this.” Shadow punctuated the sentence by jamming a savage claw past Sonic’s lips. “You’re so dry.” Sonic bit back a pitiful whine. “But that’s fine. You won’t be for long.”

I can make him stop, Sonic.

Sonic had no reply as he felt Shadow release himself from his sheath and the razor like protrusions along the long alien phallus sliced into the tender flesh of his back. In the before time, Sonic had loved all the unique parts of Shadow. The soft, little nubs gently caressing his insides created a sensation unlike anything else in the world. But now…

Shadow slammed himself into Sonic’s uneager deepness, forcing himself in to the hilt on one motion, the sharp protrusions slicing into his walls. Sonic cried out. The wailing scream went as loud and as long as Sonic could manage with how little air he could get into his lungs before it settled into an uncontrollable bout of sobbing. “What’s wrong? You always loved when I produced my own lubricant.”

Vital dampness welled inside and overflowed through the thin crease between Sonic and the thing that looked, smelled, felt, sounded like Shadow but wasn’t.

Sonic gasped as he realized-

This isn’t real.

Sonic went limp. He felt the body crushing him vibrate with an irritated growl. “You’re no fun today.” Infinite said with Shadow’s voice. The bladed cock pulled out of Sonic without ceremony. The defiled hero grit his teeth, desperate to deny Infinite his screams. Suddenly released, Sonic fell to the ground hard.

“Ha ha.” Sonic rolled to his side, trying to smile. “You had me going there.” The illusionary Shadow loomed over him, its eyes glowing malevolently.

Every day, Infinite did something to make Sonic forget that this Shadow wasn’t his Shadow. That way every bitter word and thrown punch filled Sonic with unadulterated confusion and despair. Eventually, he would spot something out of place and he’d snap to, realizing that-

This isn’t real.

Every day, this Shadow became a little more like his Shadow, presenting fewer incongruities and making it harder to remember-

This isn’t real.

At first the differences were glaring. Shadow’s eyes were missing the delicate little gold flakes, leaving them flat and cold. The white blaze on his chest, normally soft beyond all mortal comprehension, was irritatingly wiry. Words sounded weird in his mouth, his cadence the one he only used during missions. The first time the fake Shadow pulled out a regular hedgehog cock, Sonic had laughed.

Quickly, however, there was nothing funny about his situation. Every inconsistency seemed to disappear nearly as fast as Sonic noticed it, leaving him wondering if he’d been wrong or misremembering. Infinite was in his head somehow, pulling from his memories, using to weave a more convincing lie. Making the pretend hell realer and realer.

Sonic hated it. Infinite’s Shadow soiled every memory of them together. Terrible words corrupted sweet, private whispers. Rough, cruel hands ruining every gentle touch they’d shared under the light of the shattered moon. Sonic was slowly being worn down, every bastion he could escape to degraded and eroded. He couldn’t take much more. There wasn’t much more left inside him that hadn’t been desecrated.

“Hmmm,” Infinite appeared behind his Shadow, floating in the air with one leg crossed over the other in just the gayest way, “what gave me away today?” He asked impassively. With shaking arms, Sonic pushed himself up to sit against the wall. “No notes? Oh well, I’ll pry it out of your mind soon enough.”

Infinite lowered to the floor and approached the Shadow. He cupped its cheek, running a clawed thumb over Shadow’s lower lip, and Sonic grimaced, his stomach roiling. It was all fake, but the sight still filled him with withering disgust and sadness. “I like to think he’s gotten very high fidelity.” The jackal turned the black stripped head back and forth, closely examining his work. The clone made no attempt to resist.

Infinite moved behind the Shadow and the fake bent over stiffly, craning its neck to stare dead-eyed at Sonic. The masked jackal positioned himself behind his puppet and gazed at Sonic through limp black and red quills. “I really should thank you, Sonic. I’ve learned so much about our favorite hedgehog.” He snapped his hips forward, penetrating his toy. The thing that looked like Shadow emitted a filthy moan so identical to the original that Sonic’s heart shriveled.

“You are such a sick fuck.” Sonic closed his eyes, stinging tears finding their way from his dry eyes. “Why are you doing this? Why all the shit with Shadow? Why can’t you just shock me or drown me like a normal villain? Threaten to break my legs or some shit.”

Infinite, his face unreadable behind the metal mask, started to roughly fuck Shadow and the facsimile grunted and groaned exactly like the real deal. “Because it’s not about you, hero.” Sonic cringed at the unholy sounds. “Look at me when I am talking to you.” Magenta energy sparked behind his lids and Sonic’s eyes were wrenched open, forcing him to watch his jailor defile something Sonic continuously reminded himself was not Shadow despite how identical it was in every way.

Black clad clawed bloody tracks down black fur sides. “I couldn’t believe my luck when I started sorting through that garbage pile you call a brain.” Infinite talked over the mewling hybrid. Despite the noises and rough thrusts, the Shadow clone’s face was still as a placid lake, its eyes boring into Sonic with mindless intensity. “You provided a detailed account of all the defenses and weaknesses of your pitiful amalgam of freaks. Thanks to you, Sonic, the Eggman Empire has waged an extremely successful war upon this world.”

Sonic grit his teeth so hard sharp pain shot up his jaw. It wasn’t true. It couldn’t be true. But if Infinite could find all of Sonic’s secrets about Shadow…well, there was no reason he couldn’t do the same regarding his friends. “The Doctor has been most pleased.” Infinite’s voice grew strained. “So pleased, he let me have you for recreational purposes. To take out my frustrations on, as it were.” The jackal released a long hiss, tilting his head back, and his rutting took on an erratic pattern.

Spent, his hips stilled and his attention returned to Sonic. “You see, I can’t kill the Ultimate Lifeform.” Infinite ran a hand through Shadow’s his toy’s backquills. “I’ve tried. I’ve witnessed countless others try through your memories.” The hand roamed further, reaching to Shadow’s head and scratched one of the black ears. The fake Shadow began to purr. Sonic, unable to tear his eyes away, stifled a sob. “But I must make him pay for what he did to my family.” The clawed hand gripped the ear, sharp claws digging in and drawing blood. “Every moment my eyes are closed, I see their lifeless corpses.”

Sonic didn’t have any snarky reply to that. All he had was the weak hope that Shadow hadn’t done what Infinite claimed he had. That this was somehow a big misunderstanding. But even Sonic could tell that little spark wasn’t hope, that it was fake. A delusion. A lie he told himself to feel just a little better for just a moment.

Infinite released the bloody ear and began stroking the silky top quills. “I may not be able to kill Shadow the Hedgehog, but, thanks to you, I can render his world to nothing but ashes.”

Sonic suppressed everything. All the revulsion, the heartbreak, the fear, the agony. He couldn’t look away, but he could try to make what he was forced to watch meaningless. Never before had he wished to know, to understand, to believe-

This isn’t real.

“You know, your experience here doesn’t have to be like this.”

New hands touched Sonic’s shoulder and ran gently down his arm. Sonic turned to look and swore. “Oh, fuck you.” He stared at a copy of himself. The clone’s eyes were half lidded, and it wore a dopey lustful smirk. Sonic tried to pull away, but his doppelganger gripped his arm and pulled him against its chest, pressing him into-!

Sonic gagged and writhed in disgust, fighting the iron arms forcing him into pillowy soft flesh. “Fuck you!” Sonic hissed. His clone wound its cold arms around him, running its hands through his dry, broken quills. Another appeared to his other side and began trailing a bare, peach colored hand downwards along his stomach.

“I can make things worse for you, Sonic.” Infinite sounded bored. He touched a claw against his cheek in mock contemplation. “Hmmm, but that’s not actually your name, is it?”

Sonic bared his teeth as a cold sweat broken out. Hands, copies of his hands, crawled like spiders over his flesh. “My name is Sonic.” He foolishly tried to glare at Infinite, locking eyes with the bent over Shadow instead. A wave of embarrassment and shame broke over him.

Infinite leaned on Shadow’s back, head propped up by one of his hands. The Ultimate Mercenary began to rut again in slow, apathetic thrusts. “You must think there is nothing else I can take from you.” Infinite tilted his head. “Your freedom, your strength, your love, even your memories.” Sonic’s ears pinned. “But you’ve still got that name. And that body.”

Sonic winced as peach fingers cupped his sex and hot breath whispered something sickening into his ear. This wasn’t real. This wasn’t real. This wasn’t real.

This isn’t real.

If this isn’t real, why do you insist on suffering?

This isn’t real.

I just need you to do one little thing for me and all this goes away.

This isn’t real.

His pain. His suffering. His disgust. It was all pointless.

“F-fine.” Sonic mumbled, hating the weakness in his voice. “W-what do I have to do?”

Submit.

Despite everything, Sonic snorted. “You are such a dweeb.”

“That’s not a no.” Because it wasn’t. “You’re not him,” Infinite punctuated the statement with an especially sharp thrust, causing the Shadow-shaped lie to lustfully cry out, “but we can have fun together anyway. You may even come to enjoy what I have in store for you. In time, I think you’ll understand what a gift I have given you, Sonic.”

“Whatever.” Sonic rolled his eyes. Childish, yes, but it was about the only form of defiance he could muster. “Do what you want to me. It doesn’t matter anyway.”

“And why is that?” The villain chuckled.

“This isn’t real.” Sonic said with complete confidence.

“You’re right.” Infinite snapped his fingers.

Sonic shot up, gasping for breath, his eyes darting around. He was alone in his cell and sitting on the cold metal slab hanging from the wall that served as his bed, the permanently illuminated lights glaring down on him. He felt his face and found himself covered in a cold sweat. The pain was gone, but the stress his body experienced was still present. His fur tingled as the sensation of unwanted touch faded. Sonic hugged himself.

A sinister laugh drew his attention to the glowing barrier keeping him from freedom. Infinite’s angular mask loomed in the darkness. “Good morning.” The jackal jeered. “Or night. You really have no way of knowing.”

Sonic turned away, choosing to stare at the wall instead. But his jailor had other ideas. “You will look at me when I am talking to you.” A magenta glow glimmered around him as Sonic’s head was roughly jerked back to face Infinite. Sonic snarled, but his ears drooped limply.

“Just remember.” Infinite sneered as his image began to blur and fade.

Everything you know, I know. Everything I want, you want.

Sonic squeezed his eyes shut, willing himself to just be okay. He could be okay. He would be okay. Because-

This isn’t real.

Bit by bit, Infinite’s illusions grew closer and closer to what Sonic remembered of the ‘real world’. Soon, the blue blur couldn’t tell illusion and memory apart. So enmeshed Sonic had become with the Ruby’s trickery that he couldn’t tell when one nightmare ended and the next began. Existence became a long messy smear.

Time had no meaning. He stopped thinking or remembering, loathe to provide his jailor any more fodder. Sonic became a character, a paper doll that Infinite used in his repetitious stage plays. Sometimes Sonic was a hero, sometimes a damsel in distress, others a villain. Whatever was Infinite’s fancy that day. Sonic followed the script, said the lines and did the actions, but he felt none of the feelings. Whatever happened, it was meaningless because-

This isn’t real.

At the end of the day, when Infinite had had his fill of Sonic, he tore the doll to shreds to reform overnight, ready for the next day’s performance. Sonic grew to prefer the illusion. Anything was better than his cold, isolated, bright cell.

Sonic lived in a multiverse of pain. Deep, deep inside him was a little secret place, however. One so precious even he couldn’t access it without tainting the light therein contained. A faint glow, barely perceptible, that held the last of his hope, the last of his conviction that, one day, his friends would arrive and rescue him from this hell.

The last bit of hope was precious and to protect it, Sonic forgot it existed at all.