Knuckles barked another laugh and tapped Sonic’s shoulder. “Fine. Stay. But no stealing the emerald.”

“I mean leaving just to see. Not to abandon anything. To find out what’s out there besides…this.” Sonic waved a hand at the island, at the endless responsibility woven into stone.

Sonic touched the palm first and threw himself down, chest heaving. Knuckles arrived seconds later, planting his fist on the trunk and grinning widely. “Hmph. You got lucky.”

The wind smelled of copper and ozone as Sonic skidded to a stop on the ridge overlooking Angel Island. Below, the ruins glowed with the last amber of sunset; above, the sky had deepened to bruised red. He rolled onto his back, letting the chill of the stone seep into him, and watched Knuckles moving like a shadow among the broken pillars.

When Sonic finally stood, the night had grown deep and cool. “I’ll stick around for a bit,” he said.

“You called me here,” Sonic said. “Besides, I needed to see the view.”