#metalsonlc

Lucky shot... @metalsonlc || Prompt

     Keep up that pace. Pick up those legs. Strike whenever the opportunity showed itself... 

     Or, in other words...

     Don’t you dare lose.

     Fighting his doppelgänger was always a special treat for Sonic. He could go to Shadow for a test of speed, he could go to Knuckles for a display of strength. Eggman’s robot swarms honed endurance, and even the rare spar with Tails kept the hedgehog crafty in his battle approaches, forcing him to play out of his comfort zone and get creative when in opposition to the kit’s primarily ranged style of fighting.

     But Metal? Metal had it all. He was just as fast as him, and dared to take his crown as fastest on more than one occasion. He was strong, metal limbs granting raw power where Sonic’s flesh and bones did not. He was endurance incarnate, his energy core, wherever it may lie within his gleaming metallic form, allowed him to go further than any organic could’ve wished. And he was crafty, a set of built-in abilities to not just upset the playing field, but to shatter it in its entirety. His defense matrix, his plasma shots... They were all made with Sonic the Hedgehog in mind. The ultimate rival, the ultimate test.

     It required the speedster to push himself. Push himself further over the limit than most any other adversary required of him. Movement needed to be pin-point, any falter of the foot could end the fight in seconds. Precision had to guide each attack, it was essential. A sloppy swing might allow for a counterattack, and Metal Sonic hit hard. Though the inverse was just as important, split those emerald eyes and watch for every possible way extra damage could be slipped onto his opponent’s person. Every little bit counted. 

     Dodge the projectiles, wait for the shield and either bait its activation or simply outspeed it. There was a delay in its raising that was shorter than a millisecond long. And truly? That was the marvel of the fight. That such nanoscopic seconds meant everything. It was speed on another level, the blue blur and the blue sheen fighting at nigh imperceptible rates of movement. The tide of battle could change like that, even in such a small time frame. All it needed was    

     “....!”

     A push. A surge of something   of anger, of desperation. Of confidence, of intelligence. Of... something. Something surged through that copycat of his, and sights had to remember how to express clear and honest shock. And fast. It was the suddenness of being caught off-guard...

     Or, in other words...

     A direct hit. 

     Those didn’t happen often. A bone-crunching blow to the torso. It flared red-hot, searing, volcanic, can’t-see-straight, fire-in-the-lungs pain throughout the entire stretch of the body. A spatter of blood was loosened from the mouth, air all but absolved and stripped of their duties in the lungs. ...But yet still would breath be drawn, no matter how pinched and thin. Because we were not finished here. This fight wasn’t over. 

IT WOULD NEVER BE OVER. NOT UNTIL HE FINALLY DROPPED DEAD.

     And as it would seem, Metal could work with that condition. Further damage inflicted, a boost of cold metallic savagery throwing itself into the entirety of Sonic’s Pointed claws around the neck, clasping the neck. Haggard breaths drew through a coffee straw, quills blew in front of the face during his forced movement. Then? Impact.

     A back was battered into the wall with enough exertion to stop a train, and perhaps a demanded cry of pain would have sounded out as he felt something in his back shatter... if it were not for the death grip around his windpipe. Vision fought to stay straight and a flaring heart WILLED it to stay straight. 

YOU ARE NOT YET DEAD. 

               YOU ARE NOT YET DEAD.

                                YOU ARE NOT YET DEAD.

     The manufactured faker had this moment and this moment only where his organic copy was briefly at the mercy, or lack thereof, of whatever heinous act he wanted to commit. Because after a beat had passed and Sonic recovered from his second-long daze? He was going to enact his own surge. 

     Or, in other words.

Oh boy, here we go again. Metal, at this point, understands typically what Shadow's were like. Being seen by one ALWAYS roused suspicion. But it was unavoidable now, Metal saw those red eyes and, almost comically, drooped its shoulders.

-metalsonlc

Air shoes came to a skidding halt, bracing his body back as he repositioned the jets on his shoes to counter the speed of what he was traveling to. Ruby eyes focused on the metal contraption before him, the black hedgehog’s body tensing with anticipation. While his fists clenched, he attempted to keep his body language rather open to the robot.

Metal Sonic. Any appearance of the Eggman servant was bad news, because it meant that the Doctor was moving. Moving on his plans for world conquest. Their eyes met, red with red and then....Metal’s shoulder drooped. Why? Because he got caught? No, that didn’t make any sense.

Tentatively, Shadow took a step forward as his ruby eyes examined the robot’s body.