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“Let me see that,” he said so casually.
Sonic took a moment to process. The fake Chaos Emerald in his hand. Shadow stared at it intently, his eyes glossy, nearly vacant. They were about to fight.
Probably to the death.
“You don’t trust me,” Shadow added, noting the blue one’s pause. “Here.” He tossed Sonic his own Chaos Emerald without a thought.
Sonic couldn’t understand. He caught the thing, feeling its power pulsing in his hand, compared to the weaker pulse of the fake in his other. Why on earth would he just hand it over that easy? Sonic was never one to sweat the details though. It was a good enough trade.
With a shrug, he tossed the fake to Shadow, both never wanting to get too close to the other. There was something in the air, something dangerous. Not just the fact that an ultimate life form was about to attempt to kill him or the fact that a space station was about to blow up the entire planet. There was something else. He gripped the emerald, feeling that power course through him. It made his head hurt.
“It really is a fake,” Shadow said, his voice low, emotionless now. Nothing like their first encounter or even the second encounter. “Yet it still works.” His eyes gazed into the fake emerald's shine, seemed to view something painful there. The word fake stuck out in Sonic’s mind, invading it, repeating over and over. He gripped the emerald harder, unsure.
“I’m not giving it back,” Sonic replied, attempting a grin, but failing. His words were meant to be cheery, sarcastic, but it didn’t come out right.
“I don’t expect you to freely return it,” Shadow said, looking ahead. They were moving forward now, feet pounding against metal, skates floating soundlessly, strangely.
He’ll kill me for it.
For a while, they just ran side by side, their destination looming in the horizon. Even at their speeds, it would be some time before they reached the end. Still, this feeling washed over Sonic. He stared at Shadow, who merely looked ahead, blank, like a robot.
Even Metal Sonic had more life in him. Metal Sonic’s digital eyes moved with a purpose, he knew what he was, there was no doubt what his goals were, what he wanted to do.
Shadow, however, was different. Especially now. Sonic couldn’t understand and the Chaos Emerald in his hand seemed to only amplify his confusion. This was a living breathing being before Sonic. He had never killed anyone before. Robots, sure, but they didn’t have emotions, they didn’t have souls. It was easy. He couldn’t help but wonder. Did Shadow have a soul? Have real emotions?
Will I be able to kill him?
Sonic didn’t like that thought. But what choice did he have? Shadow was a weapon; a living being designed to wipe out everything. Shadow wouldn’t hesitate to kill, he was designed to do it with machine-like precision after all. Sonic might not have a choice. If he wanted to save everyone, he would have to. Even if he just wanted to leave, he would have to.
Still, Shadow looked forward towards his goal, eyes empty. A brief flash of life would appear, a moment of consciousness. But he hid it away. Sonic clutched the emerald tightly, feeling uncomfortable, as if he were invading Shadow’s mind now. He knew too much, noticed too many things now.
Shadow didn’t even seem to notice Sonic existed. Such a stark contrast to the usual fights he had. Eggman was obsessed with Sonic, same with Metal. There was no such thing between Shadow and him. At one point, Sonic felt there may have been a kinship between them, but soon realized Shadow thought nothing of him. Just another light to face.
It unnerved him.
Their destination loomed ever closer, like a door in a nightmare that you could never get to no matter how fast you ran. Nothing seemed right. The emerald burned in his hand, yearning to be used. Sonic shook his head and finally spoke up.
“All right, Shadow,” Sonic said, his words low and dangerous. Again, they came out wrong. He wanted it to sound lighthearted. “Time for me to finish this.”
Shadow said nothing. Merely nodded. Those eyes of his seemed even foggier, like trying to stare through a window in a blizzard. Before Sonic realized it, Shadow was attacking. A swift kick, calculated and perfect to his side, and it sent him off the edge, down towards his death.
Sonic wasn’t ready to die yet. He focused his being into the Chaos Emerald, he felt the power wash over him as Chaos destroyed the very fabric of space and time.
Stars don’t twinkle.
The moon doesn’t shine.
The words repeated in his head over and over, thousands of times, millions of times, for an eternity. It was maddening. The words burned into his skull, stabbed his brain.
Stars don’t twinkle.
The moon doesn’t shine.
He was back on the runway, the universe moving in slow motion. His eyes fell onto Shadow again.
Stars don’t twinkle.
The moon doesn’t shine.
These weren’t Sonic’s thoughts, yet he felt them repeated over and over. He tried to ignore it, tried to return to himself. Still, the words repeated, the Chaos Emerald shining delightfully.
The universe finally returned to normal. This time Sonic was ready. The two met in combat like black and blue blurs in a dimly lit cave, the darkness all too pleased to devour both. Shadow no longer grimaced in pain when a punch landed squarely in the face. He seemed to ignore it completely, ignore everything. There was no witty comeback anymore, merely a counter-attack meant to kill.
Sonic had seen it all too often against robots. He could dodge their attacks, their perfectly timed movements locking onto him with pin-point precision. He didn’t expect it from this fleshy thing, though, and even then he felt himself being overwhelmed.
Again, the Chaos Emerald burned, imprinting itself into his palm, demanding it to be used again. Shadow’s attacks were getting too hard to dodge, too hard to counter. What choice did he have? Soon he felt Chaos press against him, sting him like frostbite as the universe distorted itself.
His attack landed easily against the shadowy machine. “I’m not done with you yet,” a voice said, low and laced with killing intent. It sounded like Sonic’s, but that couldn’t be.
Birds don’t sing.
The wind doesn’t blow.
Again, it invaded his mind. The universe stayed distorted now. Sonic couldn’t quite see it as it used to be. Stars were merely hot gases producing energy. The moon was just a rock, floating through the abyss uselessly, reflecting the sun’s light. Birds made noise to find potential mates, to survive, nothing more. The wind simply was.
Existence itself vibrated before him, like droplets in a pond, but it was no longer in slow motion. His enemy was attacking. His enemy had no more features, just a blur. Sonic fought back, if only to survive.
Birds don’t sing.
The wind doesn’t blow.
To the pure body.
To the perfect existence.
This was what he was. This was what he had to be. There was nothing left if he wasn’t. Sonic countered his enemy with robotic like movements as well now, the Chaos Emerald blazing, its shine enveloping him, crushing him with foreign power.
His enemy did not let up, however. His enemy used the power of the emerald, no matter how fake. That fake emerald didn’t seem to have the effect on him like it did Sonic.
His body was bruised and bleeding, now, but he ignored the pain. Or maybe it was never his pain. Maybe it was his enemy’s. He couldn’t be sure whose blood it was that stained his fur now. What bruises he felt on himself, whose were they?
He was lost. The blizzard beat down against him. He looked to his left, he looked to his right. Pure white nothingness. He couldn’t see his hand in front of his face. He stumbled forward, hoping to find something, anything.
I’m shivering with cold.
Where was he? Who was he? He moved forward, but there was nothing. He looked back. He left no footprints in the snow, somehow. There was no sign he had come from any direction or had even moved.
Again, the blizzard tore into his being, forcing him forward. He had to move. He would die if he stood still. But he was dying anyway. It bit into his fur, straight into his flesh. Why did he move? There was nothing. It would be easier to stay still, let the blizzard take him. There was no escaping, there was nothing anywhere.
I struggle against despair.
He wanted to give up. Yet still, his body moved. Was it even his body anymore? Who was he? There was only cold, only white. Something moved in the distance, a form shimmered, but he could never reach it never see what it was. He moved towards it anyway. It was the only thing. The only thing. What was it? She wasn’t even real, was she? Still, he moved towards it. He had no choice. He wasn’t in control.
He wandered like this for years. That form never got closer, never became clearer. The blizzard only blurred its form further. His chest heaved, something pressed against him. Harder and harder, crushing his bones, asphyxiating him. He couldn’t breathe, yet he still lived. He couldn’t die. It all went black.
Sonic dropped the Chaos Emerald before Shadow’s body, bloodied and beaten. Sonic heaved, noticing his arm was broken, limp, and useless. Shadow looked even worse. He could no longer stand, could barely even crawl. He merely looked up at Sonic.
“Do it,” he said.
Sonic would have to kill him. The Chaos Emerald grinned near Shadow’s body, still pulsing with a dark power.
Shadow’s eyes no longer stared forward at his goal, no longer seemed so glossy. He stared directly at Sonic now, waiting, expecting, hoping. “Do it,” he repeated, his voice barely able to raise above a whisper.
The world was returning its shape. Stars twinkled in the distance, the moon glowed warmly. Still, he stared at Shadow’s ruined form. He could merely push his body off down to burn in the Earth’s atmosphere.
He had to. Whatever Shadow was, he had to. Shadow stared up at him, eyes as clear as day.
Sonic took the Chaos Emerald with his good arm and the fake with his bad. He ignored its power, ignored its whispers now. He wouldn’t use it again if he could help it. Not this one at least. Not for a while.
Sonic dashed away towards his goal, leaving Shadow. The dark hedgehog grit his teeth in pain and began to crawl.