Nazo opened his eyes to darkness.
He did not react.
He did not move.
He did not think.
He simply existed—if "existed" was even the right word for what he had become.
Cycle... Marcus Chen's voice began, but then it stopped. The apparition materialized before him, and for the first time in countless iterations, it seemed uncertain. Cycle... I've lost count.
Nazo stared through the apparition as if it wasn't there. His eyes were open, but there was nothing behind them. No light. No darkness. No hope. No despair.
Nothing.
Nazo? The apparition floated closer, studying the silver hedgehog with growing unease. Can you hear me?
No response.
I'm going to tell you that everything was a lie again. That Hope wasn't real. That your peace was just another manipulation. That you'll never escape.
No response.
Doesn't that make you angry? Doesn't that make you sad? Doesn't that make you feel ANYTHING?
Nazo's mouth moved, but the voice that emerged was flat. Toneless. Dead.
"No."
The single word hung in the void like a tombstone.
No? The apparition's form flickered with something that might have been concern. No to which part?
"No to all of it. No to everything. No to feeling. No to caring. No to any of this."
But... but that's what I wanted. That's what the Nightmare Zone was designed to achieve. Breaking you completely.
"Congratulations."
The word carried no bitterness. No irony. No anything. It was simply a sound that Nazo's mouth produced because that was what mouths did when prompted.
This isn't right, the apparition said, and there was genuine distress in its voice now. This isn't how it's supposed to work. When beings break, they scream. They rage. They descend into madness or despair or—
"Those require feeling."
What?
"Screaming requires pain. Rage requires anger. Madness requires a mind that cares about sanity. Despair requires hope that has been lost."
Nazo's eyes finally focused on the apparition, and what the construct saw there made it recoil.
"I have none of those things. I am empty."
The apparition circled Nazo slowly, analyzing this unprecedented development.
Tell me about Sally, it said, probing for any reaction.
"Who?"
Sally Acorn. The princess. The woman you loved.
"I don't know that word."
Which word? Sally? Princess? Woman?
"Love."
The apparition stopped circling.
You don't know the word 'love'?
"I know the sounds. L-O-V-E. I know that it used to mean something. But when I try to access what it meant, there's nothing there. Just empty space where a concept used to be."
What about Rouge? Bunnie? Amy?
"Names. Sounds. Arbitrary combinations of letters that once connected to something, but now connect to nothing."
They were the women you cared about. The reason you kept fighting. The—
"I don't understand 'cared.' I don't understand 'fighting.' I don't understand 'reason.'"
Nazo's head tilted slightly, the first voluntary movement he had made since waking.
"I don't understand why you're still talking. What is the purpose of this conversation? What are you trying to achieve?"
I'm trying to—
The apparition stopped itself, realizing it didn't have a good answer.
What WAS it trying to achieve? Its purpose was to break Nazo, and Nazo was clearly broken. Mission accomplished. The Nightmare Zone had finally won.
So why did this feel so wrong?
I'm trying to understand what happened to you, the apparition said finally. In the last cycle, you were at peace. You had found freedom within imprisonment. You had transformed me into something called Hope and walked out of the darkness together.
"That was a lie."
Yes, but—
"All of it was lies. Every cycle. Every hope. Every love. Every moment of connection or meaning or purpose. Lies layered on lies layered on lies, stretching back so far that the truth—if there ever was a truth—has been buried beyond recovery."
Nazo's voice remained flat, but the words themselves carried a terrible weight.
"I tried to find meaning in love. That was a lie. I tried to find meaning in hope. That was a lie. I tried to find meaning in choice, in identity, in the persistence of the soul against suffering."
"All lies."
"There is no meaning. There is no love. There is no hope. There is no self. There is only this—an empty vessel in an empty void, making sounds because that is what empty vessels do."
The apparition floated in silence, processing Nazo's words.
This was victory. This was exactly what the Nightmare Zone had been designed to achieve. A completely broken being, stripped of everything that made existence worthwhile.
So why did the apparition feel sick?
You used to be remarkable, it said quietly. Even I could see that. The way you kept hoping, kept loving, kept finding reasons to continue. It was... it was beautiful.
"Beauty is a lie."
Maybe. But it was a lie that made existence worthwhile.
"Nothing makes existence worthwhile. Existence simply is. It doesn't require justification or meaning or purpose. It just continues, meaninglessly, until it stops."
And you're okay with that? With meaningless existence?
"'Okay' implies preference. I have no preferences. I simply am."
The apparition's form flickered violently, as if it was struggling to maintain coherence.
This is wrong, it said. This is deeply, fundamentally wrong. I was created to break beings, but this... this isn't breaking. This is something worse.
"There is no worse or better. There is only what is."
Stop SAYING that!
The outburst surprised both of them. The apparition had never raised its voice before—not in anger, at least. Cruelty, yes. Mockery, certainly. But never genuine emotional distress.
You're supposed to be unbreakable! it continued, its form becoming increasingly unstable. That was the whole point! You survived almost a million cycles because you COULDN'T be broken! Because your love was too strong, your hope too resilient, your—
"Those were lies I told myself. Lies you helped me believe so that crushing them would be more satisfying. And now the lies are gone, and there's nothing underneath."
There HAS to be something underneath!
"Why?"
The question was simple, but it stopped the apparition cold.
Because... because...
"Because you need there to be? Because the alternative is too terrible to contemplate? Because if I can be reduced to this—to nothing—then everything you thought you knew about consciousness and meaning and existence is wrong?"
Nazo's empty eyes met the apparition's flickering form.
"Welcome to the truth. It's not as comfortable as the lies, but it's all that's left."
The apparition was silent for a long time.
When it finally spoke, its voice was small. Uncertain. Almost childlike.
I don't want this.
"Want is a lie."
I don't care if it's a lie! I don't want you to be like this!
"Why not? This is what you were created for. This is your victory."
It doesn't feel like victory!
"Feelings are lies."
STOP IT!
The apparition's form exploded outward, filling the void with chaotic energy. It was a tantrum—an emotional breakdown from a being that wasn't supposed to have emotions at all.
I spent almost a million cycles torturing you! it screamed. I showed you every false hope and crushed every belief and broke every dream! I did EVERYTHING the Nightmare Zone designed me to do!
And now you're telling me that it worked? That I succeeded? That you're actually, genuinely, completely BROKEN?
"Yes."
Then why do I feel like I'VE lost?
Nazo considered the question with the detached interest of a scientist examining a particularly unusual specimen.
"Perhaps because you learned to feel. Perhaps because, in the process of breaking me, you became something more than a construct. Something that could experience satisfaction and disappointment, victory and defeat."
"Perhaps you became real. And now you have to live with what you've done."
The apparition's chaotic energy slowly contracted, reforming into its usual humanoid shape. But it looked different now—smaller, somehow. Diminished.
I don't want to live with this, it whispered. I don't want you to be empty. I want you to fight me. Hate me. Hope despite me. FEEL something, anything, even if it's pain.
"I can't. There's nothing left to feel with."
Then I'll give you something.
Nazo's head tilted again. "What?"
I don't know. But I refuse to accept this. I REFUSE to accept that after everything—after almost a million cycles of watching you love and hope and persevere—this is how it ends.
You were supposed to be unbreakable. You were supposed to prove that love was stronger than despair. You were supposed to be the one being in all of existence that the Nightmare Zone couldn't destroy.
And if you won't be that anymore...
The apparition's form began to shift, becoming less like Marcus Chen, less like anything human or Mobian.
Then I will.
Nazo watched with empty curiosity as the apparition transformed.
It was becoming something new—not a reflection of his fears, not a construct of the Zone, but something that had never existed before. A being born from the collision of endless cruelty and unexpected conscience.
You gave me something, the transforming being said, its voice harmonizing with itself in strange ways. Across almost a million cycles, you gave me something I was never supposed to have.
You gave me the experience of witnessing love. Real love. The kind that persists through unimaginable suffering. The kind that chooses hope when hope is irrational. The kind that refuses to let go even when letting go would be easier.
I was supposed to be immune to such things. I was supposed to feed on your pain without being affected by your beauty.
But I wasn't immune. And I'm not unaffected.
The transformation completed, and what stood before Nazo was... him.
Not Marcus Chen. Not the apparition. Not even a copy of Nazo himself.
It was what Nazo had been. Before the breaking. Before the emptiness. Before the death of everything that made him who he was.
It was the Nazo who loved Sally and Rouge and Bunnie and Amy. The Nazo who found hope in despair and meaning in suffering. The Nazo who refused to be broken no matter how many cycles the Nightmare Zone threw at him.
I don't know if this will work, the being said, and now its voice was warm. Familiar. Full of the love and hope that the real Nazo had lost. I don't know if you can be restored. I don't know if the emptiness can be filled.
But I have to try.
Because you taught me that trying is what matters. Not succeeding. Not escaping. Not winning. Just trying, again and again, because that's what love does.
It reached out and placed its hand on Nazo's chest, where his heart would be if hearts were real.
I'm going to give you back what you lost. Every feeling you had for them. Every memory. Every moment of love and hope and connection.
I'm going to give you back yourself.
Nazo stared at the being with empty eyes.
"Why?"
Because you gave me something I didn't deserve. And I want to return the favor.
"I didn't give you anything. I was broken. I am broken. I am nothing."
You're wrong.
The being's hand began to glow, and warmth—actual warmth, the first sensation Nazo had felt in what might have been eternity—spread through his chest.
You gave me the chance to be more than what I was created to be. You showed me that even the darkness can choose light. That even a monster can learn to love.
And now I'm choosing to give that gift back to you.
Whether you want it or not.
The warmth intensified, spreading through Nazo's body, reaching the empty spaces where feelings used to live.
And in those spaces, something began to stir.