@irrtuemer / knuckles / continued.
❛ that’s not how my promises work. ❜
and really, what else could he expect of her? eden yaki had never once given up. she had faced the depths of hell, risen out of the ashes and broken the surface. what was a few hundred robots, really, compared to that?
they had split into two teams - sonic and tails were providing cover, really, distracting the forces to the best of their abilities. eden, however, was a bit of a wildcard. nothing here was built to deal with her. perhaps the good doctor hadn’t realized that, well, barriers that worked well for solid creatures wouldn’t work for a girl made of ink. all the better for her.
really, there was only one reason she bothered hacking the door to his cell - and well, that was him. getting knuckles out safely was her priority, and while her weapon kit helped, it would require doors open to get him free.
❛ hey, spinefish, want to know something neat? ❜
she speaks lightly, clearly, and more as a distraction. she studies the boxes with intense, silver glances. the screws holding them together were inlaid, and she worries, for a moment, that they might be too deep to get with her claws. no, that would do no good. if she had to guess, any attempt to strip the bolts would likely lead to a nasty shock, for both of them. still, distracting him was her goal.
❛ octopi have nine brains; one for each limb, and of course, our central brain. that kind of localized control- ❜
the thin, wire tools she keeps in her pockets start the work of unlocking. it’s electronic, sure, but even an electronic lock must have a tumbler, somewhere. she thinks she feels something, between what looks to be a metal plate and a hinge. c’mon, please.
❛ -allows us to use our central brains more effectively, and let’s us focus on more- ❜
❛ - crucial things. ❜ with a goofy grin, she watches the first of the restraints clamber to the floor. the next comes easier, but it is not a short process. ❛ once this is off, we’ll both go. ❜
knuckles forgets to breathe, for a little bit. maybe that’s because he’s panicking as the realization sets in— eden is not leaving him, and he’s powerless to stop her. that exact powerlessness drove him crazy before, had him yell into the darkness of the cell until his lungs hurt, but he was the only one being affected by it, at that point. now, it’s his sister’s life on the line.
there’s static in his ears, a noise that almost drowns out what she’s telling him. all of a sudden, he feels like he’s about to pass out. he feels light-headed, and if he wasn’t already on his knees, he’d collapse, unable to carry his own weight. instead, he gasps for air, a choked noise that’s as painful as it sounds.
he’s so tired of pain. the doctor had visited him for his fair share of tests, experiments, most of which knuckles either can’t remember or doesn’t know the consequences of, so it doesn’t really matter either way. his knees are scraped from grating against the concrete of the floor so many times, and his whole body feels like it’s been run over. moving hurts. breathing hurts. looking at her hurts. the weight of his fists chained to the ground a constant reminder of his failure.
the tiniest bit of weight lets up. knuckles stops breathing again, before letting out the breath he’s been gasping for. it’s relief. oh. oh.
he stares at the parts of the restraints that have fallen off, blankly, all the anger suddenly stripped from him. he had made peace with the fact that he would never hold his siblings again. that he would die, here.
once this is off, we’ll both go. and that, that sounds like another promise. suddenly, he can’t see again, but this time it’s not because dizziness overwhelms him— knuckles’ vision blurs because he’s crying, quiet tears clinging to the fur of his cheeks. ‘ sister, ‘ he mutters, quietly, static making space for his quickened heartbeat, thundering in his chest.
he’s still alive. maybe it can stay that way. ‘ thank you for coming. ‘