>>537857008
Infinite is proof of this. I hate every fanfic that tries to give him a sobby backstory.

>>537857317
I'm sure someone will comment on it, since Danny and company are still on Twitter.

I hate writing action so much.

"Echoes in the Ruby"

Inside the Phantom Ruby, there was no time. No light. No sound. Only an endless, suffocating void—and him.

Infinite floated in the abyss, his mind the only thing left to torment him.

At first, he had raged. Screamed. Clawed at the walls of his prison with phantom limbs, cursing Sonic, Shadow, Eggman—everyone who had led him to this fate. His hatred burned like a dying star, relentless and consuming.

But eons passed. Or maybe seconds. Time meant nothing here.

And then... it spoke.

"Was it worth it?"

The voice was his own, but softer. Hollow.

Infinite snarled. "Shut up."

"You gave up everything," the voice continued, indifferent to his fury. "Your squad. Your pride. Your freedom. For what? A power that abandoned you the moment you needed it most."

"I WAS STRONG!" Infinite roared into the void. "I WAS UNSTOPPABLE!"

"And now you are nothing."

The words settled like dust. Infinite wanted to tear the voice apart, but there was nothing to fight. No enemy to crush. Just the endless dark, and the slow, suffocating weight of realization.

The voice sighed. "I’m tired of hating. There’s no point anymore."

"Coward!" Infinite spat. "You’re weak, just like the rest of them!"

"Maybe."

And then—silence. The voice didn’t argue. It didn’t scream. It just... faded.

Infinite waited for it to return, to give him something—anything—to fight against. But it was gone. He was alone again.

His rage flared anew. "COME BACK! FIGHT ME!"

But the void swallowed his words.

The other him had given up.

And as Infinite screamed into eternity, part of him—buried deep, where even hatred couldn’t reach—wondered if it would have been easier to fade too.

But he wouldn’t. He couldn’t.

So he screamed.

And the Ruby listened.

And nothing changed.

Commander Tower had faced intergalactic warlords, rogue GUN operatives, and even Shadow on a bad day—but nothing prepared him for Drunk Professor Victoria.

"¡Pinche pendejo, no me toques!" she slurred, swaying in her heels as Tower tried to steer her toward his car. "I studied the Gaians, cabrón! You—you tax-funded meathead—apágalo!"

"Professor, for the last time, I’m not ‘turning off’ the streetlights," Tower grunted, dodging her attempt to karate-chop a parking meter.

Victoria gasped, pointing dramatically at a stray cat. "ESPÍA DE EGGMAN!" She lunged. Tower caught her by the waist mid-air, her limbs windmilling.

Back at HQ, the night shift watched on security cams as Tower carried her fireman-style into her lab, her muffled shouts of "¡VIVA LA CIENCIA!" echoing down the hall.

The next morning, a single email hit Tower’s inbox:
Subject: "Apologies + Request for Deleted Footage"
Body: "Name your price."

He billed her for the parking meter.


The AI didn't fully understood who Tori was.

It is with an almost Herculean exertion of my cognitive faculties that I attempt to articulate the profound, all-consuming, and multi-layered abhorrence that the very existence of ‘Infinite’—both as a narrative construct and as an aesthetic abomination—elicits within the deepest recesses of my soul; a loathing so vast in its dimensions that it threatens to eclipse even my capacity for articulate expression, leaving me stranded in a desolate wasteland of ineffable disdain, where each passing moment of contemplation upon this character’s irredeemable failings serves only to compound my despair at the squandered potential and artistic bankruptcy that his conception represents.