Author's Note:

This is addressed to those who find this lonely place, those who come with hope, with excitement, those who have not forgotten. This is addressed to the ones who have supported me more than they know, who have followed me thus far, in search for the conclusion of this tale.

This is addressed to the people I have betrayed.

I am profoundly sorry. I never meant to drag you this far, only to let you all down at the last. I tricked you with excitement, told you that I would see this thing through. I have failed you all, and for that, I beg your forgiveness.

This is not all for which I must beg, however. I have come with another accursed chapter of this tale. If it were up to me, I would allow it to rot away in the archives, only to see the light of day with its brothers - the rest of the conclusion. I would do this...

But I feel I have let you all down too much already. I leave this chapter here with no promises, no strings attached. If you, too, know the heartache of reading on, knowing that you may never receive the closure you deserve, then please; I beg of you: Leave this story as you found it, dead and buried. If you would still read on, know that I deserve not your kindness, and that I will remain as ever your humble servant.

I know now, as I never knew before, that this story was, is, and always shall be for you.

Good night, and good luck, my friends. ~SK

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As the daylight faded into the distance, dark storm clouds approached Central Square, covering the usually bustling city with premature darkness. On this inauspicious night, the dusk approached swiftly and softly, though not for long, and not alone. Thunder soon rumbled across the city, ominously heralding the lightning following swiftly behind it. The streets of Central Square became as vacant as a graveyard, its citizens taking shelter from the coming storm. Predictably, a pounding rain trailed behind, engulfing the silent city with a vengeance not minutes later. The streets wept as brooks, their grates overflowing with a torrent from the sky.

Central Square wept. Physically, its drains overflowed with tears, and its rooftops gushed with runoff. Perhaps it wouldn't seem so depressing, so profoundly sad, had the city been leveled to the ground, its inhabitants forcefully removed, its once-proud edifices reduced to mere rubble. This grim scenario paled in comparison to the utter sadness which plagued proud Central Square this night.

A lone creature stalked in this premature dusk, drenched in the downpour that seemingly had no end, water pouring from every part of its body. Alone, in more ways than one, she added her own tears to the downpour. Comparatively miniscule, these tears ought not to have made any impact at all; such a lonely creature surely could not be destined to affect anything meaningful in life. Yet, here in the thundering, pouring darkness, they embodied the anguish of the night. The heavens wept; Central Square mourned, whether it knew it or not.

The solitary creature placed each foot in front of the other, both unwillingly and with stubborn determination. This dichotomy, no paradox, was embodied by two overwhelming emotions. Sadness poured constantly from its absolutely sodden hair, dripped from its limp tail, and wept from its already bloodshot eyes. Utter anguish here convinced the creature that its life, or that which it had known or expected, was over.

Amy Rose redoubled her grip on the hammer which trailed limply behind her. Her knuckles had long since lost their color, although this detail was lost amidst the pouring rain. Although she wept openly, Amy's arms shook with violent abandon. These bloodshot eyes, so filled with anguish, overflowing with her tears, sheltered a burning vengeance that even this stormy night could not quench. This was all she had left: these two emotions drowned out everything else in her life. Nothing remained but the desire to end it all, and the desire to take it all with her to oblivion.

Suddenly, the lone inhabitant of the drowned streets slowed to a halt. Raising her eyes to the stormy clouds above, Amy closed her eyes, and allowed the cacophony of the storm to fill her troubled mind. From deep within her, she felt it coming - felt the lump in her throat struggle to be free, felt the scream begging for release within her. There was no way she could keep it in, it fought so desperately to be free. To her captive audience of shadows, then, Amy wailed into the night.

Weak, exhausted, Amy sank to her knees, never once lowering her eyes from the heavens. This was all your fault, she screamed silently, knowing that only the darkness could hear. I dreamed of a future, she sobbed, but all you had to offer were nightmares. Amy slammed her fist onto the pavement in frustration. Her now sodden glove tore at the strain, but she was past caring.

Damn you, Tails... damn you, Kim. She whispered, barely audibly. These were the only words that mattered, the only things left that were real. Her hammer slipped from her grasp, and Amy began striking the ground in rhythm, clutching desperately to this mantra as if it were a rock against a raging torrent.

Damn you, damn you, Damn You DAMN YOU DAMN YOU DAMN YOU!

As swiftly as it had begun, Amy ended with both fists on the pavement, her teeth bared in a soundless snarl, wrath flooding through her body like poison. If this was how it was to end, then Amy would curse that golden devil with her last breath. Grimly, she considered the irony of her predicament: if it weren't for Tails, she might already have thrown herself from the train on her way here. It was really quite pathetic that Tails should be the only reason she had left to live.

Amy hated him. Or her. Or whatever it was now. She didn't care. Hatred didn't have to.

Screaming, she slammed her fists once more into the pavement below her. Had it been a trap?

No! she cried, trying to shut it out. She couldn't think of it anymore. It hurt too much. Had she planned this all along?

Stop it! Amy screamed again, resorting to her mantra to relieve her of the thoughts that plagued her.

Panting heavily, Amy realized that she had stopped striking the pavement, and that furthermore, she was bleeding. It wasn't that she cared, or that the pain had prevented her somehow from exacting her vengeance upon the street that had so wronged her by existing. It was merely the first thing she noticed, having succeeded in drowning out all thought in her desperate state of anguish.

The second thing Amy noticed, was that she was not alone. Opening her eyes, she stared once again at the sky, her mouth wrenched into a broken smile. Long had she dreaded the day when she would be without a hero to save her, without a hope for salvation, without a man to care whether she lived or died. Now that the day had finally come, she knew, somehow, that she had had it all wrong.

She laughed, if a shallow cough through clenched teeth could be called that. What a fool she was. How clear the solution seemed, as she grasped her hammer once more, and turned to face the living steel behind her, staring menacingly at its already vanquished prey. Her grin widened, imagined fangs dripping with pure malice as Amy adjusted the grip on her hammer.

With cold, calculating precision, the machine prepared to strike. Its metallic limbs slid into position with a sleek hiss, as the storm played grim percussion on its every surface. The latest, and certainly not the last in a line of robots designed by the fearsome Doctor, had surely been bred exclusively for this moment. Each of them knew that it had come for Amy's capture.

True laughter echoed throughout the Square, drowned out by the storm. It was really quite hilarious.

Quite.

Amy grasped her hammer with both hands, knuckles stark white.

Why did she even need a hero at all?

Amy drew her hammer back, her wicked smile betraying naked malice.

Why should anyone save her?

Amy narrowed her eyes. In her mind, the machine had already been reduced to scrap.

Her life was worthless. Her existence meaningless. She would never need saving again.

She charged, filling the darkness with a soundless scream. The metallic beast dodged her initial swing impeccably, preparing for a swift, incapacitating counter. It could not have expected that its strike would be met in kind, as Amy met the machine's counter with her own hammer. The impact jarred them both; as Amy's battle cry turned into a laugh of contempt.

She would destroy everything in her path, or die in the attempt. She would have vengeance.

The machine threw itself at her, taking advantage of its weight and speed. Amy swung her hammer between them, catching the full force of the robot's charge with the hammer head. Though she blunted the blow, Amy could not halt the bots iron charge. It threw her back into the air, and crushed her into the pavement, knocking the air from her lungs.

But she no longer cared if there was air in her lungs. With a snarl, Amy freed her arm from under her assailant as it recovered, and landed a punch squarely into the side of its ugly head. The machine had not expected further resistance; it had not been programmed to expect such ferocity from such a diminutive girl. Dazed, it tumbled off of its prey, enabling its escape. Such a mistake, it resolved, would not happen again.

The girl reequipped her hammer, and began another reckless charge. The machine rose a metallic arm to meet the strike, stopping it squarely in its tracks. Before it had even met the blow, it had already prepared its counter, as it landed a square blow directly to the young warrior's chest.

Amy was thrown back by the force of the blow, crashing straight into the side of a brick building. Her vision grew dark. A metallic taste filled her mouth completely, and as she turned to the side and spat, she knew that it was blood that splattered the pavement. Not that she cared. The machine had long since died in her mind. Amy searched for the strength to open her eyes, and resume the fight.

It was already too late, however. A metallic arm snaked around her, and crushed her in its grip. Screaming, she threw herself blindly at her attacker, risking her strength with reckless abandon. Though her blows grew more forceful and furious with every strike, she could not slack its relentless grip, until eventually her limbs refused to cooperate with her insane demands.

Limp, despondent, and alone, she was dragged bodily through the night, and not a soul could be found that would save her.

Indeed, none that lived even marked her passing that night. The storm proved a silent and solitary witness to her capture.