#Let me kno if im stepping in ur lore

[consumcd-by-timc]

 .˚˖⊹ ࣪ ˖ ೱ   ⴵ   ೱ ˖⊹ ࣪ ˖ .˚—Those stark white eyes staring up at the being before him stop shaking in such an erratic manner, now just focused on whom he had managed to attract to his plea. This one was not one of his own, he was aware this was a different quadrant, but he could tell there were similar qualities to be found.

The entity was reminded of himself, billions of years back. Back when he knew youth and mortality.

The voice, which once almost felt unintelligible now rung much clearer, it's weight adding to the gravity around them itself. "Little fragment.. child of time. I see, you desire no more power for you possess too much to handle… your mortal form cannot let you unfurl your potential… perhaps you do not need a gift, perhaps you require… assistance?”

The puddle, until now stagnant, starts to move and morph itself in front of the hedgehog. Thick black tendrils rose from its dark waters, slowly forming a distinctive sight—five long quills, their shapes protruding a round blob that had taken it's place as some sort of head. The white irises slowly moving into the respective places of the eye, though they never stopped focusing on the hedgehog.

“Little fragment, your power itself is being held back by your physical form. What it can handle is limited by your needs… If you step into the void, perhaps your true ability could shine in the emptiness of space.” 

"Woah!"

Silver leaps backwards when the "puddle" appears. He can't help staring at it, and the strange sense that follows. It's like his psychic powers are crawling under his skin, much like a rapid river flowing down the side of a mountain.

Except the mountain is his body, and the river is the blood in his veins. It's unsettling to say the least.

It's almost like a piece of the darkened sky outside the shelter he's currently in has leaked into the warm light of their last hope.

The Alliance agent in training is certainly off-put by the sensation of being watched by whatever is on the other side.

"Look. I appreciate the um.... offer? But I don't really need any more power. I have enough trouble controlling what I've already got," he responds to the voice that he doesn't actually know if he heard or not.

His quills are on their ends, his powers threatening to rush out like a tidal wave and defend himself by lifting chunks of the shelter around him for defense. But he abstains, because he might break something and let the cold air outside into the shelter.