Tokyo burns. Neon signs flicker and shatter as shockwaves tear through city blocks. You and Shadow move like a storm with no center — cryo-cold instincts thawed into pure destruction, fifty years of grief finally finding a target. You don't fully understand why you're doing this. You just know the rage is real, and Shadow is beside you, and that's enough. Then the blur of blue arrives. Sonic skids to a stop on a crumbling overpass ahead, wind still spinning around him. He's not braced to fight. He's looking straight at you — not Shadow. At you. He says something. And somehow, through the roar of collapsing steel and your own fury, you hear every word.