Sometimes, the enemy becomes unpredictable.

They will contrive something never seen before, something designed for tragedy, for inflicting deliberate suffering and pain. Other times, it is the old plots that resurface when they are not expected to. In both scenarios, strings are pulled and lines are crossed. However, in the case of tyrants, the consequences can be far more crushing and illiberal.

One Mobian knew this all too well. Lying on his back, the blue hedgehog listlessly stared up at the grey ceiling. One gloved hand rested over his suffusing, bleeding chest, fingers weakly gripping at the edges of the wound - tied down like a prisoner of war. Several hours ago, he had struggled relentlessly against his binds, putting on a show of determination with no fear. But now, the metal cuffs were stained crimson, as if rusted. His efforts had since ceased, leaving raw, burnt skin exposed around his arms. Wounded from a severe lazer burn, he could only remain in this position.

There was no escape from this fate. Just lying and waiting, waiting for something. He could not run. He could not be a coward. Hs friends would, predictably, arrive and rescue him. It had been the same recital for years. Sally, Rotor, Antoine, Bunnie...There had never been a different outcome. It was just a semblance, a mental show directed on those little marionette strings, to think otherwise.

He wondered how his friends were. After the ambush, they had been left shaken. Nobody had expected a move like that, not after months of silence. Was Sally thinking of him? He certainly thought of her. How was Tails? Probably planning the rescue mission with Rotor and NICOLE. These thoughts reassured Sonic for a while, but his short moments of calm were soon erased.

Finally, he arrived. Sonic turned his head to the side and glared hard at his adversary. Robotnik stood in the doorway, a large, ugly grin plastered on his corpulent face. "Why, Sonic...I see you've settled in well." He taunted, derision reigning in his words. The sight of the putrid man was enough to make Sonic's blood boil, but his words flung coals into the fire. The hedgehog's glare twisted into a snarl, face contorting into a glower. The opportunist, the dominator...The play's antagonist. And Sonic knew him all too well.

"Now now Sonic, be nice." The scientist denounced him, passing him and approaching a cylindrical, upright tube in the centre of the room.

"Why should I, Robotnik? After all you've done?" The hedgehog hissed in reply, yanking one wrist only to receive a loud clank from the chains, smacking his defiant hand back down onto the metal slab. The impact quickly bruised his knuckles a deep purple beneath the torn gloves covering them.

"Because, my dear pin cushion..." Robotnik paused and pressed a red button on a control panel beside the contraption, prompting another door to open. Two armed Swatbots trudged into the room, dragging a young fox kit by his arms. The frightened mechanic screamed in protest and dug his bare heels into the silver metal floor, face stained and wet from his tears. "...You wouldn't want anything to happen to your 'best buddy' here, would you?"

Sonic's eyes widened, and his blood coursed cold in his throbbing body. He was frozen as he stared, mouth agape and ears pricked high. And suddenly, his vexation bubbled into a boiling rage - one unseen in the hedgehog before. He thrashed and screamed. His kicking and punching racked the room with echoes of metal clicking and clattering.

Robotnik grinned. Perfect.

Sonic was all too predictable.

He would destroy his enemy emotionally first.

Then, the final moments of the hedgehog would follow later.

The Swatbots dropped Tails on command and left the scene without emotion. The kit fell to his knees with a cry of pain, before hunching over and sobbing. Robotnik cast a thoughtful glance to him. So small, so fragile, yet Sonic's deepest weakness. Sonic caught the look and stopped, snarling with all the venom he could muster at Robotnik. The man was cruel, malevolent and vindictive. He deserved every second of that hateful lour.

"You leave him alone, Robotnik. You hear me? You leave him alone!"

The scientist shook his head and picked Tails up by his scruff, dangling him off the ground. "You mean this weakling? Please." He paused to swing the petrified child side to side for a moment, as if he was on a puppet string, testing for a reaction. "He would make a useful addition to my collection of Robians. Small enough to climb into the little gaps to fix things, wouldn't you agree?"

Too afraid to give any response, Tails opted only to curl up into himself, wrapping his two tails together as he shivered. He was only young, just eight years old. He did not deserve this. A child should not have been subjected to this emotional torture.

Sonic was clearly perturbed at the concept - just the reaction that Robotnik desired. "I'll do anything you want Robotnik, please, don't hurt him, don't hurt him, please!" The hero begged, daring not to move anymore. One wrong move might just seal his little brother's demise.

"What's that, Sonic? You want me to hurt him?"

"Nooo!" Sonic screamed at the top of his lungs, before coughing and pressing his hand firmly down onto his bleeding chest. The warm vermillion liquid soon stained his lips, forcing a nauseating metallic taste in his mouth. "No, don't hurt him, he's just a kid, he's my little brother, he's my everything..."

Robotnik lifted Tails a little higher. Sonic's lungs tightened. He could no longer scream. "Let him live, please...I'm begging you...Let him live..." The words repeated, on and on, louder and louder, and Robotnik took in the glory. His nemesis was pleading for him to release his friend. This was the scenario he had dreamed of for years.

"Sonic."

He hiccupped as his diaphragm wrenched from his anguished cries, the crimson ichor dribbling down his chin now.

"Tails will live."

The fox and the hedgehog exchanged glances across the room. Tails broke down into frightened but relieved sobbing, hanging his head in the shame of showing such panic over his so-called fate. Sonic exhaled and attempted to quell the tingling in his hands and toes from his shock, expression softening. Perhaps Robotnik would take him instead. Maybe he could face the robotisizer and be saved afterwards. After all, the heroes always win...

"Because my victims still live on inside their metal shells."

Without an ounce of mercy, Robotnik tossed the limp fox into the capsule, shut the doors and brought one thumb down on the green button. The sound of the whirring machine repressed and overpowered the sound of Sonic's heartbroken, tearful screaming. The pain of his loss burned far deeper than his physical wounds, far below any wound he could ever sustain in his lifetime.

No last goodbye, no final embrace. His little brother had been stolen away from him.

When the enemy becomes unpredictable, it is the heroes who fall - and the innocent who are played like marionettes on strings.