Help, I'm A Cringy Sonic OC!

The trio sprang into action, each using their unique abilities to escape the net. Gamma's robotic arms tore through the thick webbing with ease, his newfound power adding a blue electric arc to every swipe. Striker's lightning-fast reflexes allowed him to dodge the guards' bullets, his body moving in a blur of blue and yellow. Shadow, with his own brand of speed and power, took out the soldiers with a series of swift and silent strikes, leaving them stunned and disoriented.

The guards were no match for them. They were outnumbered, outsmarted, and outmatched. Team Light was a force of nature, leaving destruction in their wake as they fought towards freedom. Each blow they dealt was a declaration of their intent—they would not be stopped.

The corridors of the prison fortress became a battleground, a canvas of chaos painted in the colors of their valor. They dodged lasers, leaped over security bots, and dismantled traps with a grace that seemed almost inhuman. Their movements were synchronized, a dance of steel and fur that was as mesmerizing as it was deadly.

The guards threw everything they had at them, but it was not enough. Striker's speed was unparalleled, Gamma's strength unrivaled, and Shadow's power a force unto itself. Together, they were an unstoppable wave, crashing against the shores of G.U.N's secrets.

Their escape was a symphony of sound and fury, a testament to their will to survive and protect. They didn't look back as they sprinted towards the exit, the echoes of their battle fading into the distance. The fortress was now aware of their presence, its very structure seeming to come alive with the intent to capture them.

But Striker had a secret weapon. As they approached a heavily guarded checkpoint, he paused, his eyes narrowing. He reached out with his mind, his thoughts coalescing into a tangible force. The shadows around them grew darker, thickening like a living thing. With a flick of his wrist, he sent the shadows rushing towards the guards, enveloping them in a cocoon of darkness. The guards stumbled, their cries of alarm cut off as they were momentarily blinded.

Gamma and Shadow took the opportunity to charge through the gap, knocking aside any stragglers with brute force. The shadows dissipated, leaving the guards groaning and disoriented. Striker smirked, his eyes flashing with a hint of satisfaction. He had discovered his newfound power of umbrakinesis in the heat of battle, and it had proven invaluable.

The exit was in sight, the night air beckoning them with the sweet promise of freedom. But as they approached, the doors slammed shut with a finality that seemed to echo through the very fabric of the night. The facility had sealed itself, trapping them inside.

With no other choice, they turned and faced the onslaught of G.U.N's forces. The corridor was a bottleneck, the perfect place for a last stand. Striker's eyes narrowed as he focused on the shadows pooling at their feet. He took a deep breath and reached out with his mind, his thoughts coalescing into a swirling vortex of darkness, if he remembered right, Coldsteel was able to control shadows . . .

The shadows grew, stretching and contorting into tendrils that snaked through the air. With a flick of his wrist, he sent them hurtling towards the incoming guards. The tendrils wrapped around the soldiers' legs and arms, tripping them up and leaving them tangled and helpless. The guards struggled and shouted, but the shadows held fast, their forms writhing and pulsing with Striker's will.

Gamma and Shadow didn't hesitate. They leaped through the writhing mass of shadow and steel, using their combined might to push through the last of the G.U.N defenses. The doors to the outside world were in sight, the moon's pale glow filtering through the narrowing gap.

But the facility had one final trick up its sleeve. As they neared the exit, a barrage of lasers sliced through the air, a deadly web that threatened to cut them down. Gamma stepped in front of Striker, his metallic body absorbing the brunt of the attack, sparks flying as the lasers bounced off his blue-electric shield.

Shadow's eyes narrowed, his form blurring into motion. He dashed through the lasers, his speed a crimson streak that defied the very laws of physics. Striker watched in amazement as Shadow reached the control panel and, with a swift strike, knocked out the power supply. The lasers flickered and died, the air thick with the scent of ozone.

They were out. The night air was cool and sweet, the sound of the waves a balm to their ears after the cacophony of the fortress. The three of them stood on the beach, panting and bruised, but alive.

The battle was far from over. They had Shadow, and with him, the potential to tip the balance in their favor. But first, they needed to get off the island and regroup. They had to find a way to take down Eggman before he could harness the power of the Chaos Emeralds and unleash havoc on Mobius.

The horizon was a canvas of light and shadow, a reflection of the tumultuous journey ahead. They had no time to rest, no time to revel in their victory. The clock was ticking, and the fate of their world hung in the balance.

"Now then, what is your wish?"

The question hung in the air like the scent of rain before a storm. It had been a long time since Striker had felt the weight of his destiny so acutely. He knew what he wanted to say, "Help me save the world Shadow."

Here's hoping he imitated Maria's tone good enough from what he remembers . . .

Shadow stared at Striker, his eyes reflecting the tumultuous emotions churning within him. The name 'Maria' resonated through his mind like a ghostly echo, bringing forth memories of a past filled with pain and purpose. He had been set with one goal in mind—to serve as the ultimate weapon for vengeance. Now, he faced a new wish, one that went against the very essence of his promise to her.

The tension in the air was palpable as he processed the gravity of Striker's words. The world had changed since he had been in stasis, and the very fabric of his existence was being questioned. His mind raced with the implications, the weight of his decision threatening to crush him.

He had expected Striker to wish for some type of power, prestige, something, but no, it was the one wish that went against Maria's. He had truly felt grateful to Striker for helping to finally freeing him (How long had it been since that day . . .) and the fact that he seemingly did it out of kindness, yet he couldn't betray Maria's promise . . .

Shadow remained silent for a moment too long, his eyes searching the horizon as if the answer lay somewhere in the distant waves. Striker's heart pounded in his chest, waiting for the response that would determine their future.

"I will help you." Shadow said finally, his voice low and solemn, perhaps he could simply wait to destroy the world after Striker was gone, yes, that would work. "What shall we do first for this mission?"

Striker felt a rush of relief, and his shoulders relaxed slightly. "We need to get out of here, first and foremost," he said, glancing around the moonlit beach. "G.U.N will be all over this place in no time. We can't let them get their hands on you or Gamma."

Gamma's sensors beeped, and he looked up at the night sky, spotting the telltale lights of approaching helicopters in the distance. "We don't have much time," he warned, urgency in his metallic voice. "We must find a means of transportation before G.U.N surrounds the island."

The trio sprinted towards the fortress's dock, where a sleek, black jet ski sat waiting—a silent sentinel in the moonlit water. It was Gamma's doing, having remotely accessed and prepared it before their escape. Striker and Gamma knew the risks of being caught, and they had hoped Shadow's assistance would be the key to their survival.

With a powerful leap, Shadow landed on the jet ski, his red eyes scanning the controls with a predatory gaze. He had piloted many vehicles in his time, and this one looked fast enough to outrun the approaching threat. Gamma and Striker quickly followed, the former taking the handlebars while the latter clung to the back, his quills fluttering in the breeze.

The engine roared to life, and with a spray of water, they shot off into the open sea. The wind whipped their faces, carrying with it the scent of salt and adventure. The jet ski cut through the waves like a knife, leaving a frothy wake behind them as they sped towards the mainland. The helicopters grew smaller in the distance, their lights fading into the horizon.

As they rode, Shadow studied the two who had freed him. The hedgehog-like creature, Striker, and the giant robot, Gamma. He sensed a bond between them, they seemed like good friends. Could he trust them? His instincts told him to remain wary, but something in Striker's earnest gaze made him believe that the hybrid was indeed telling the truth. For now.

They reached the mainland and sped towards the cover of the forest. The trees swallowed them whole, a verdant embrace that shielded them from prying eyes. The forest was alive with the whispers of the night, a symphony of nocturnal creatures and rustling leaves that seemed to sing of their escape.

The jet ski's engine fell silent as they ventured deeper into the woods, the moon's glow their only guide. The shadows danced around them, a silent audience to their clandestine retreat. Striker's heart hammered in his chest, the thrill of freedom mingling with the fear of the unknown.

Gamma took the lead, his robotic eyes scanning the area for any signs of danger. His upgrade had made him more than just a powerful ally—he had become a sentinel, a guardian of the night. The forest grew denser, the underbrush thick with secrets and hidden paths.