Reach for the Stars
I'm holding a flag.
I used to hold other things. Animals. Plants. My enemies. Once, I reached upwards and forwards. The saviour and defender of Flora. Reduced to a flagman.
I am not the Legendary Hero my father was. Oruto's voice is beyond my ears. The stars are beyond my grasp. I am nothing more than a fallen star, consigned to a world's surface.
And what world is this, I ask? It is but a strange limbo of clashing realities. Heroes (and…other people) are here, all in their racers. I am forced to watch on. To give them permission to begin their game, while I watch. Was I not a hero once? Am I not a superstar?
The announcer has spoken. And I must wave my flag.
I wave it at Sonic and his friends – we are of similar origin. Similar design. Once, I was meant to succeed him, only for Saturn to get between my trajectory and destination.
I wave it at the others. All from different universes. All given the privilege to race. A privilege that has been denied to me.
I wave it at generals, at guests, at a bird and a bear, at avatars, and even a gadget. What am I to them?
Their race begins. And I am left in the dust.
I let the flag sink, and I look at my arms. They are not required to be long to wave a flag. But they will never be long enough.
I can never again reach for the stars.