“You wouldn’t know him, his name’s Rocket.” He spoke with a slight shrug.

“…yeah. Like super-heroes and stuff.”

Nodding, reaching into the fridge with a little hum to grab the juice. “…I might take a trip to another universe for a bit.” Dropping that bombshell casually whilst pouring a glass.

“I’m fine with that, thanks Mom.” Snow replies, stepping closer. “…you want a hand?”

“If you’re making a sandwich, could I have one please?” He asks with a small smile to affirm.

“The first world I travelled to was full of mutants and absurd fashion.”

“…yeah, you can blame an old friend for introducing it to me.” Snow was 16.

“How noteworthy do you consider mutants?”

Making coffee, who wants some?

“A helluva lot…”

"We just do, comes with being an anomaly."

“…well, what do you need information on?”

“…Snow.” He spoke coldly.

“So…you must be Infinite, right @strikerofdreams.bsky.social?”

Currently cycling through the different weapons he can shift his arm into.

Flexing and practicing with that big Doom Claw.

🤍: Well…he’s not dead yet—

🤍: Snow when he casually references his original reality…then immediately changes subjects—

“Grandpa Doom is complaining again…”

“A few…” He shrugs.

“So we ARE blood related then. Would explain the big black pulsing arm that grew when I lost the old one-“ He’s so nonchalant about losing his arm now—

I get it from you-

…just commenting on…how well-kept your fur is. 😁😅

Oh uhh…hi Dad. 😅

That…sure sounds about right.

“…you say that as if I’ve not literally explored thousands of universes with millions of variations.” He huffs. “You can’t have time without space. Silver’s Job would be a hundred times harder if I wasn’t doing My Job.”

“Right…because besides maybe one or two specific realities, he always wins against you and beats you. Does that fact not bother you the slightest bit?” Snow asks, observing the alien. “…from Father’s descriptions, I thought you’d be bigger. So do I call you Grandpa Doom or what-?”

“Tell that to my Father.” Snow simply smirks, his own ‘Doom arm’ folded underneath his organic arm. “He can intimidate anyone…including you, from what I’ve heard.”

Casting a small glance over his shoulder to @theblackmonarch.bsky.social. “You know, on my world you were more Mobian looking…can I help you?”

ᅠ

“It’s…it’s alright.” He spoke, forcing a little smile.

“I deal with SPACE, Silver’s schtick is TIME. Mine is arguably more important.”

“Shouldn’t, but was. I’m the only me in the multiverse.” He spoke nonchalantly.

🤍: DB chatting with the Space Alien whilst Snow is just upstairs screwing around. XD

“Huh…cool.” He nods, though from her tone he could’ve probed for more information. Yet, she had her reasons so he simply took it at face value. Snow wouldn’t care that she was an assassin, at all-

He picks up one of the sandwiches, taking a bite. “So, can I ask how you met him?”

He didn’t mind at all, he was just texting a long-time friend from another universe. Was it a selfish use of his powers? Probably.

“My…reality was erased from existence itself…” He sighs, shaking his head quietly.

“Unsurprising, every variation of him is extremely work-focused.” Snow chuckles, nodding. He sat up, about to move to assist before she’d already set the tray down.

An ear twitches, looking to the hedgehog with a bright smile forming. “Yeah, actually…thanks, Mom. Where’s Dad?” He asks, curious.

Casually scrolling through his phone…

“…he was kind, caring, a good Dad.” He sighs, gaze turning to the ground. “I miss him and Mom, even though Shadow here has filled the role…I dunno. Part of me still feels like it’s not the same.”

“You mean this world’s, or my variation?”

“I suppose it must have been similar for my own father.”