The Genesis of a Generation 30

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The Genesis of a Generation

"I can't live without my passion."

Notes: Let me tell you; this chapter was a hassle. I wrote out half of it, then decided I was going to reread this whole story – took me two days because I get distracted easily – and I discovered that my characterization of Classic Sonic has changed dramatically from the first chapter. I woed over this for about a day before I eventually sucked it up and opened this Word document back up. After reading it over, I realized that I had dug myself into a hole anyway, so I changed a few things. I've still got reservations about this chapter – Classic Sonic's still probably OOC – but there's nothing I can do about that except bite my tongue and hope you all pardon me.

This chapter's connected to the last one. This just writes off where the Tailses are, nothing more.

OH! OH! 200 REVIEWS! PARTY TIME!

Sonic was running.

The act in and of itself wasn't strange. In fact, it was so undeniably ordinary that it seemed almost mind-numbingly boring to everyone but the hedgehog. He ran every day, without fail, for a variety of reasons. He ran to keep himself limber. He ran to work off steam. He ran to fight Eggman. He ran to race Tails. But, most importantly, he ran for himself.

Sonic loved running. He adored the way the wind felt as it ripped through his quills, and was exhilarated every time he felt the sound barrier flex and splinter around him. He cherished the way running made him feel unstoppable. While he was speeding around, nothing could touch him – not even physics. Newton's laws tugged on him, trying to add drag to his aerodynamic body, trying to slow him down and yank him down by the ankles. He simply laughed at the feeble attempts, pushing his body even faster, harder, shoving physics out the window.

He ran on his own brand of laws, ones he wrote himself.

So, yes, Sonic loved to run, but, even more than that, he enjoyed the chase. He looked everywhere for something to race, something to pursue, something to run from, and usually the universe only granted him on option.

Eggman.

The doc was the only one who could keep up, despite his large body mass, was the only one who presented a challenge. Sonic cherished the adventure Eggman offered, relished in the confrontation and dared to fight back, declaring to the world that he was someone to rely on, and – more than that – was someone who could.

Plus, it was difficult and it was fun.

To say that he was a masochist would be a little harsh, but also slightly accurate. He loved danger, waiting for it to crop up with baited breath. In all twenty years of his life, he never got a higher adrenaline rush than when he was running for his life. It made him feel alive.

So, when he swung himself out of the cockpit of the Tornado, landing with grace and poise and without the slightest flinch, and saw all of the Egg Fighters and Spinners and badniks storming Emerald Hill Zone, he couldn't keep the smile off his face. Already, his heart was pumping, his feet itching to go, to run, to be the hero.

Sonic the Hedgehog did not like violence, at least, in principle. He spoke against it, and felt that it wasn't necessary, but even he had to admit to himself as he took off from a dead stop, leaving his younger self in the dust, that without it…

He would be very, very bored.

A blue bombshell slammed into the first Egg Fighter, barreling right through like a hot knife through butter. The robot froze, AI trying to comprehend why it couldn't process where its feet were – or even if it had feet – before it slumped and fell, sparking. Sonic grinned, arms and legs already streaked with grease and oil, and saluted it lazily with two fingers before turning sharply on his heel and darting toward his next target.

His younger self followed grudgingly, taking his sweet time to spindash into a 'bot his older self had missed. To the ten-year-old, this wasn't fun; it was a chore, something that had to be done. He didn't get the exhilaration, the excitement of the battle. He was filled with dread and exasperation and longing to get away, to escape, from the obligation of fighting Robotnik. He didn't dislike laying his life on the line for people he didn't know, but still felt like it was a chore. He was the only one who could, so he had to; he chose to, felt the drive to, but didn't want to.

With a grumbling sigh, he bounced off a motobug, using his leftover momentum to slam into a buzz bomber. Both robots cracked open with small pops, metal casings raining down. Sonic shook his head, wincing as a spark shot from the exposed AI of the motobug. He kicked it away from the dry, browning grass, sending it skittering onto the beach a few feet away. It landed in the water with a small splash, and Sonic shook his head before continuing forward.

Up ahead, his older self was whooping with excitement as he boosted through a loop, knocking crabmeats away. His heart was pumping, thick in his throat, ears, and chest. The vital organ gave him a rhythm to base his movements on, allowed him to choreograph a dance of leaps and bounds and cascading robot parts.

He slammed into a group of four badniks – two motobugs, a crabmeat, and an Egg Fighter – and smashed his foot into the three closest to the ground, leaving the Fighter for his younger self.

The ten-year-old was lagging behind, taking his time to make sure everything was safe before he continued forward. He was very meticulous and methodical, something almost foreign to the older hedgehog in front of him.

Usually, he wasn't like this. The younger hedgehog was typically gung-ho for any type of action, ready to kick robot metal and get some exercise, but his surroundings – Emerald Hill, the place where he met Tails, but also where his best friend had been tormented for half of his young life – were making him antsy and irritable. The Zone itself was nice, much like his home of Green Hill, plenty of loops, nice scenic waterfront, but the locals were harsh, uncaring for anyone other than themselves. This coupled with the fact that it was more water than land at some parts put it on Sonic's 'places-I-never-want-to-visit-again-unless-I-have-to' list.

He grumbled as he spun into the Egg Fighter his elder self had left behind, wishing for the first time that he would slow down and take the time to get rid of every robot. Then, realizing that he was essentially asking himself to do something that was equivalent to not breathing, he shook his head and sped up to a jog to keep up with the darker blue hedgehog.

Ahead of him, the elder hedgehog was rushing across the rooftops of some residential housing, taking sharp turns around chimneys and jumping across the gaps between the buildings. His footing was sure, and he never glanced down, taking out the multitude of Spinners hanging above the houses, probably equipped to set them on fire at some unseen signal. Mini-Sonic stayed on the ground, pulling even with his older self on the lower level. Together, they dashed through the suburban area, liberating it of its robotic tormentors.

"C'mon, Little-Me!" Macro-Sonic yelled as he used three Spinners to get across a large break between two buildings. "Smile a little! This is fun!" So saying, he fell into a roll before launching himself off a building and doing some over-the-top, totally-unnecessary flips and somersaults, whooping the whole time. He landed on his feet, grin a mile wide, and grabbed a nearby lightning rod to swing himself around a corner. He blasted off faster still, watching carefully for loose shingles or anything else that could send him careening to the ground.

His younger self shook his head, speeding up accordingly, and taking the corner with a lot less flare, simply planting his left foot and pivoting his other leg around. He landed in stride, and managed to pull ahead of the darker blue hedgehog in the resulting momentum change. He couldn't help but grin at the shocked face of his elder incarnation, taking the time to look back at him and stick his tongue out.

However, before he could turn back around, he slammed right into an Egg Fighter with a loud bang, sending himself careening to a halt. His body bounced off the robot, falling backward as physics finally caught up to him and pushed back. He landed with an 'oof' on his back, quills digging into the dirt and vision spinning.

He tried to force himself back to his feet milliseconds later, knowing better than to stay in a vulnerable position with robots so close, but his body wouldn't listen. With a groan, he curled into himself, minimizing his surface area and protecting his soft belly and face. His quills dislodged from the dirt, flaring dangerously as he rolled onto his side.

The Egg Fighter was calculating, trying to decide if this little blue form was Priority One Hedgehog. It was too small, the fur too light of a blue, but the shoes matched… and it was spiky…

The process was cut off as a different ball of blue, this one the correct shade of azure and the exact size and shape of what it had been expecting slammed a sneakered foot right into its head, sending it crumpling to the ground. He bounced off of its head, kicking his legs out it a dramatic pose, before homing attacking into the other two 'bots who had been accompanying it, putting them out of commission with a well placed kick and airboost.

Landing with barely a sound as the 'bots exploded behind him, lighting up the scenery, the twenty-year-old bent down and helped his younger self to his feet. The smaller hedgehog grumbled, rubbing his skull and blinking owlishly toward the other Mobian.

"How is this fun?" He demanded seconds later, expression morphing from confused to angry in a matter of seconds. "Nearly getting brained by a hunk of metal, risking my neck for people I don't know, leaving Tails alone with no idea if I'm gonna see him again…"

The darker blue hedgehog yanked the younger one to a standing position with more force than was necessary, sending him stumbling. "Running, 'bot smashing, destroying Eggman's toys, what's not fun about that?"

The pint-sized time traveler didn't reply, simply looking up at his older self. The taller hedgehog was grinning at him, eyes twinkling with a hidden light, thick with excitement. This was what he loved doing, he realized. He loved running around, jeopardizing his life, and just having fun. Sometime in the ten years between the younger and the elder, his opinion on things had completely flipped. He enjoyed the adventure in the future, cherished the challenge. It was out of his grasp now, but it made sense to his older self.

Which sent his mind spinning. How could they be the same person, the same yet so completely different? There was no way; no feasible explanation as to why he had changed to drastically. Sure, growing up came with some emotional change, but not full 180's…

But, wait… He thought to himself as he watched his older self rub a finger under his nose, green eyes staring off into the distance. The younger's mind was spinning, shuffling through his thoughts in milliseconds, each reflection passing through his brain almost too quickly for him to grasp. There wasn't much difference… Between himself and the other hedgehog standing next to him.

They both hated waking up, hated water, and loved chili dogs. They both were best friends with a fox cub; both loved running; both loved life.

How many times had Mini-Sonic walked through a Zone, admiring the scenery, simply because he could? How many times had he smiled at a sunrise, valued the stars in the sky? He had caught the older doing it multiple times; lying in a tree, staring at clouds, allowing the wind to ruffle his quills, humming to himself. He had seen the twenty-year-old doing just that, down to the swinging leg and half-mast eyes.

Now that he thought about, he had no idea what his older self had really gone through. Sure, he had gotten a taste of it through their time-traveling adventure, but he honestly couldn't comprehend how he could have possibly felt when Station Square got flooded, when he met Shadow for the first time, when he first got sucked into a book… He was detached from the events, unable to form opinions.

So, there was no way for him to really judge how he would grown up. For all he knew, his evolution of view – dangerous adventure becoming fun adventure – may have just been a way for him to see things in a positive way. These were the cards Life had dealt him; he was just trying to play them in the best way.

Macro-Sonic waved his hand in front of the dark eyes of his younger persona, yanking him out of his musings. "Paging Sonic… Sonic, come in Sonic." He quipped, grin permanently wedged between his cheeks. When he saw the daggers his younger self was sending him, his smile widened. "Have a nice trip?"

The other rolled his eyes. "Just thinking."

"Couldn't tell. You looked like you were trying to burn a hole in the ground. Whatever did Mobius do to you?"

Another eye roll. "Yeah yeah. Let's get going already."

The elder didn't need prodding, and he spun on his heel, darting away from a standstill. The smaller hedgehog watched him go, eyes narrowing at the smooth movements.

Somehow, it always came back to running… He mused to himself, taking off after the darker blue Mobian. His whole life changed because he could run. If he wasn't able to run at the speed of sound, he never would have taken on Robotnik; never tried to save Mobius.

But, more than that, running became a part of him. Running was Sonic; Sonic was running. He couldn't exist without it. His whole identity revolved around it. It was his exercise, his relaxation, his way of life.

His obsession.

And, simply stating, one cannot survive without a fascination; something to occupy their time with, to think about it.

"I can't live without my passion…" He mumbled to himself, speeding up so he could pull even with his elder self. "Because, without a passion, I'm not myself."

Bleg. I don't like it. I never really liked the prompt anyway, so whatever. Not the best chapter in the whole world.

Officially over the 100,000 word mark! Whoo!

Reviews are cherished.