Imbalance

In this short story, Jax, in a place between life and death, looks back on how the heck he got to this point.

## Story

Silence… Everything’s white.

Did I hit my head? Am I dead?

I pick myself up. My head’s fuzzy. Everything feels like sand. Lovely, grainy, golden sand. Like the beach. Like South Island.

Like Home.

I raise my head as a strange, low humming sound makes its way over my head.

This isn’t a beach. I’m standing in the desert. I see a big mess of technology flying over my head. It’s the dreaded Hydra. It’s *that* ship. Grizz is on that ship.

Oh no. not this again. Why am I having this memory? Am I dreaming?

The same sense of hopelessness falls on top of me. I know what’s about to happen. I can’t do anything to stop it. Some sort of inevitability is crushing me.

Make it stop!

The ship explodes out there, out in the middle of nowhere. The helplessness stops crushing me. It’s broken through into my soul, and takes root as… Some other emotion. I don’t know what it is. It makes me sick.

But suddenly, there’s an incoherent yell. And it’s not me. I look up and behind me…

And it’s me. Well. Younger me. I definitely must be dreaming. Or having a vision. Those are a thing, right?

He’s yelling and cursing. Now he’s running down the sand dune…

Oh, I know this bit. I- yep, I trip, fall, and slide on my shell down the sand dune, then sorta recover in one motion and keep running towards the distant wreckage.

That run felt like a timeless eternity.

I blink, and suddenly, I’m there. Amidst the wreckage. Looking around, I don’t see my younger self.

Am I back in First Person? This is a dream, right? Or… Am I dead? No, Grizz is dead. He’s not here. Neither is the bird. The evil bird.

Are all birds evil? No, Angela’s a bird. She’s nice.

“Jasper? What are you doing here?”

I jump out of my skin as I spin around.

“Grizz?!”

“Jasper, what the blazes are you doing here? You’re not supposed to be here.” It’s Grizz. He’s wearing old uniform. He’s unscatched. He’s not glowing with Chaos Drive energy or anything. He’s just… Completely normal.

And that’s not normal.

“What am I- I could ask you the same question! What are you doing here?” I blurt back, immediately on the defensive.

“Being dead. Are you dead? You can’t be dead. You’ve still got so much more to do.”

I scoff, kicking at the charred debris. “Yeah? Like what, Grizz?”

“You’re my insurance policy, Jasper. Surely, you haven’t forgotten?”

Suddenly, out surroundings blur and shift. We’re in the office of GLACIA. But no one’s bothering us. Everything’s muted. Sorta gray, and static. The clock on the wall isn’t moving.

Everything’s frozen. Well, everything except me and Grizz.

“GLACIA. It’s GUN’s replacement,” Grizz says. “But we- and by we, I mean you- need to make sure it doesn’t become an exact replacement.”

“It’s another nonsensical organization with too many moving parts to get anything done,” I reply bitterly, thinking about my rash decision to toss my badge at General Flame.

Suddenly, we’re warped to the General’s office, and the very moment of when I turned it in. My badge. Forcefully, on his desk.

It’s all flash frozen, and both me and Grizz are standing here. Invisible. Intangible. There’s a static rendering of past me, General Flame, and Captain Beau…

“This is surreal.” I say.

“This is your choices,” Grizz replies.

“You mean, my mistakes?”

Grizz just shrugs.

“If you want to look at it that way.”

I take a moment to take this scene in. Really take it in.

General Flame. He usually doesn’t like people staring at him. I take advantage of this moment, real or imagined.

There’s a fire in that shoop’s eyes. A real fighting spirit. Yet, he spends so much time behind this desk. I wonder how much he hates it. Why he does it.

“Ever thought to ask him?”

“I don’t remember asking you,” I reply. Grizz just shrugs.

I turn and look at the back of past me, leaving the office. My shell is heavily scarred, carved and browned. A lot of those are recent.

“You’ve been doing a lot of protecting, Jasper.”

“A lot of good it’s done, wouldn’t you say, Major?” I sneer. “People still getting hurt left and right. Chaos and disaster are still everywhere, and it seems like I’m the only one willing to stand in the way of it.”

I wave a hand at the silent image of Beau, more spiteful words ready to tumble out about how he’s just as bad as General Flame, entirely willing to just follow protocol, and sit behind a desk and let other ‘experts’ handle things ‘expertly’...

But they don’t leave my mouth.

Because frankly, Beau’s face speaks louder.

He’s sad. He’s confused. He’s… Disappointed?

I walk over to him. Bend my knees just a tad, and follow his line of sight.

He’s looking at the side of my face, which is striding out of the office.

My face is angry. Also sad. Also confused. Really really disappointed.

Nuts.

“You regret this?”

“Getting rid of the badge, or hurting my friend?”

The scene changed a few different times, showing all the times where Beau and I didn’t see eye to eye.

My friend. Really, the only person who I’m able to talk with about what kind of desperation we rebels reached on South Island in the face of impossible odds.

The kind of desperation that, once rewarded like it was for us with Eggman’s defeat, is a really hard thrill to shake.

The idea that literally ANY obstacle can be removed with enough desperation. Anger. Rage. Passion.

Insanity.

Even going to jail and having all the rigidity and scheduling in prison didn’t get rid of that idea in me. With enough willpower, you can move anything.

Anything except practically everything nowadays, with all these rules and regulations and laws and legalese.

The world has no sense anymore. It’s all made of invisible walls and pretend roles. Certain people are supposed to only be in certain spaces, and everyone has a little job-box that they’re not supposed to leave.

It’s like a bucket brigade, but someone like me who can carry 4 or 5 buckets is stuck in his one spot in the brigade and told to just lift and twist a single bucket to each person in the chain.

IT’S AGGRAVATING.

“That’s understandable,” Grizz says, reading my mind again. Somehow, this doesn’t disturb me. I guess this is really a dream, because that’s peak dream-logic.

“But what if that’s really what’s best in this world? What if everyone did their job? Wouldn’t the bucket brigade work very well?” Grizz asks.

Our surroundings stop changing. It’s a frozen image of the first fire at the Docks, with me passed out on the ground.

“Maybe. But sometimes the system doesn’t work. Because life isn’t a system. It’s…”

“Chaos?” Grizz finishes

“...No.” I say. “Perhaps I would have said so during the war. . .”

Our surroundings flash to an image of me and my pals, Bozo and Twitch, leading the charge out of a trench against an army of Badniks. We look glorious, and the fire in our eyes reminds me of General Flame’s, but more chaotic. More… excited. We had Sonic as our leader. I don’t know who General Flame has as a leader…

“But I had a lot of time in jail. And remembering the good times before the war is what kept me sane. And those times were… Not chaotic. They were orderly. Peaceful.

The image changes to just me. Me and the Beach. No lawn chair. No Umbrella. No anything. Just me, on my back, in the sand. Eyes closed.

This image is missing sound, but I can still recall it in my mind. The sound of the ocean. Purely that. No planes. No other people. No radios, or buggies, or ships or distant cars, or even scavenging seagulls.

Oh, but how I miss that.

“Life is Life,” I say, drinking in this memory. “It doesn’t have boxes. It doesn’t fit in any system. There’s no perfect schedule for it. It’s best lived moment to moment.”

I take a deep breath. I close my eyes, and conjure up everything that’s missing in this image. All the other senses. Smell, taste, feel, hearing.

“You have so much more to live for, Jax.” Grizz says. “So much more to give, to be, to see, to know, to learn. To watch. To safeguard.”

I sigh. “Maybe you’re right, Grizz.”

I open my eyes. It’s just me and Grizz in a white mist.

“At the very least, I have to make it up to Beau. I need to find my balance in this new world.”

“More than that, you need to safeguard it.”

I frown. “Oh, like ***you*** did?”

The scene shifts once more, and we’re in the very heart of the Hydra, with Polybius and Chaos-charged past Grizz and past me.

“With your **STUPID** Noble sacrifice?” I bark. “*Don’t know if you’ve been paying attention, GRIZZ, but I just finished doing the exact same thing here!*”

Suddenly, my head throbs, as I remember what I was doing before I entered this dream. The surroundings shift to match my recollection.

I was busy fighting a **crazy** cyborg cat. She smashed my skull against a crashing plane’s inner cabin.

“Right down to the very ***details,*** Grizz!” I yell, as I point out the details in this ghostly 3D diorama. “High above the ground, with a helpless passenger *who’s just watching*! THE CYCLE CONTINUES, **HUH, MAJOR?!**”

I swing rapidly around, looking for Grizz. But he’s gone. Only his voice echos, and as it does, the image of the crashing plane fades into white mist.

“That’s not what I mean, and you know it, Jasper.”

“**NO!**” I yell back, panicking. For some reason, I don’t want Grizz to leave. I’m not done talking with him. “**I DON’T KNOW! I DON’T KNOW ANYTHING! THAT’S THE WHOLE POINT OF THIS!**”

I’m not done asking for help.

A disjointed diorama pieces itself around me. The Druids symbol. The evil Green bird. The robot cat. The broadcasts, the notes. The Meetings. Their goals.

I can’t piece this together! It’s more nonsensical nonsense! And what I do understand of the Druid’s goals, I actually agree with!

Modern life is stupid! All these things that are *supposed* to make our lives simpler are just cluttering it all up! I didn’t need a house! I **don’t** need a house! I only rent a house so I can have an address for a job and mail and things, because I need a job now to get money, because apparently I can’t just go pick fruits off of just any old tree anymore! Everything belongs to someone, somehow now! Arbitrarily! And to take things from people nicely, they need money!

I’d much rather use my **fists!** That’s free!

I hate this world! I hate that the world I know is gone! In fact, the only reason I don’t join these Druids is…

“The Burning Rangers.” Grizz finishes for me. “Your chosen friends.”

Slowly. Soooo slowly, the maelstrom of frustration spins away, leaving just the various mental images I have of all the members of the Burning Rangers. And adjacent folks.

Beau, first of all. He’s my best friend.
Bozo, an old friend.
Jack. His image winks at me, and I can’t help but smirk dangerously back. I owe him this new lease on life. Without him and Grizz and Cal and…

Hannah.
Pip.
Lepor.
Angela.

The list goes on. I know so many more people than I really care to list.

My mind wanders to our first meeting. Where Grizz and Cal swooped into the fight. The fight with all the Primary-colored Badniks. Where they swooped into my life.

I walk softly through the crowd of these people. These people I care about. The only reasons I really have to keep living for. They’re all looking at Grizz and Cal’s entrance on their GUN transport.

“You left a lot of good people behind, Grizz,” I say, not looking back at the image of Grizz, whom I know is just alive as I am, even though there’s a 3rd person copy of me, with my mouth hanging open in derpy surprise and exhaustion.

“Yes.” Grizz replies. “I left the best.”

I pause and follow past me’s gaze up to Grizz, where he’s standing just where he was before. But now, he’s giving me a speech. Just me.

“I left the Best of the Best behind.” He says as he looks them over solemnly. “I didn’t know it at the time. Not fully. But I had an inkling.” He waves his hands out to point out all of them, and myself. “This is the Burning Rangers. This moment, right here.”

I nod. “It’s all your fault, Major.”

He looks directly at me, a questioning eyebrow raised.

“You came in like a propane lighter…” I whisper. “...and lit us all up like a whole bunch of torches with your fiery call to action, only for days later to leave us all out in an unforgiving wind.”

Grizz nods slowly. “That’s true.”

“I still haven’t really forgiven you for that.” I say.

He nods. “I know. I don’t expect you to.”

“I don’t think Cal has, either.”

“That’s unfortunate.”

“Yeah.”

Grizz sighs. “Well, at least you have that to bond with him over. Your shared irritation with me.”

I chuckle. “Yeah. Still… As much as I wish you were still around, I… I’m glad I met you when I did.”

“Agreed.” Grizz looks back at the others. “They’re going to need you, Jasper. The world’s been saved, but it’s far from safe. Even now, they’re still doing their part.”

I grumble incomplete thoughts. I know he’s right, but I…

Grizz ignores my grumblings. “All of these others. They’re powerful in their own rights. Skillful in their specific arenas…” He points at Cal and Jack and Beau. “But they’re not physically strong. Not like you and me.”

I nod. He’s right, what can I say?

He continues. “And they have others that they care about. In some ways, it makes them stronger,” he says, pointing at Hannah, who’s holding the Chaos Sword with both hands in an iron grip, grim and dogged determination radiating off of her. “But in other ways, it leaves them vulnerable.”

Grizz turns “That’s why you’re the insurance, Jasper. Like I was saying earlier.”

The scene shifts.

We’re standing in GLACIA’s Headquarters. Images of the same members, as well as others appear… But they’ve been imperfectly placed in this scene. They’re like paper dolls. They don’t have shadows.

It’s bits and pieces of memories, all combined into one fake memory.

“You don’t have anyone else to care about. You don’t even have the same world to care about.”

“All you care about is The Burning Rangers. You’re the perfect final line of defense.”

Grizz turns and motions at the building, and the new GLACIA Logo on the front of the building.

“GLACIA,” Grizz says. “It’s not this Headquarters.” He waves a hand, and the building is wiped away like grime on a glass window. “It’s the people.” He turns back to me and points out the growing multitude of people I’ve gotten to know over the past year.

“You have to protect those people. These people.” Even more random people I’ve only met in passing continue to appear inside this ever expanding courtyard.

***“It’s your job now, Jasper.”***

I can barely see Grizz in this crowd of cardboard cutouts, but I hyperfixate on his big, brawny bear hand, pointing directly at me.

*“I left the **BEST of the BEST**, and that includes YOU. . .*

*. . . So you’ll go back to GLACIA. . .*

*. . . You’ll walk back into General Flame’s Office. . .*

*. . . You’ll take back that badge. . .*

*. . . You’ll take your lessons from your friend, Beauregard, and you’ll sit down and enjoy that paperwork. . .*

*“I hope you’ll never have to be used. I hope your life is an uneventful one. Because if so, things have gone **terribly** wrong. Everyone else has failed. You’re the reason, that if everything fails, we won’t have to build from scratch.”*

*“You’re the final line of defense.”*

*“Maybe one day, you’ll have to do what I did. Destroy a corrupt government from the inside out. Hopefully, you never have to, and GLACIA will stand for what we made it to be for many years to come.”*

*So, don’t give up hope, Jasper.*

*Because if you do…”*

“Then I’m already dead.”

## Characters

*In order of appearance:*

* Jasper Mudbaum