Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

If you asked Sonic how this happened, he would tell you that he had no idea.

The Sandomancer was an easy takedown the first time he showed up in Central City. Messy, with all those condiments and fillings flying. Easy nonetheless. Sonic didn’t expect to see him again after he delivered him to the local authorities gift-wrapped in a cheeky bow (the battle got him flung into a gift shop – it was fate). Villain of the week done and dusted, or so he thought. The only casualty of the day was a shower to get the mayonnaise out of his quills. Honestly, he forgot about the Sandomancer by the time he hopped out, ready for his next adventure, wherever in the world it might take him.

Getting a call from Knuckles on his communicator was an unusual event. The ensuing distress call was even more so.

Sonic, can you hear me? Someone got ahold of the Master Emerald! He’s using it to- ack, I don’t know what his deal is. He calls himself the Sandomancer and he says he’s got a bone to pick with you. Get over here, now! The island’s being overrun by sandwiches! ROUGE, WATCH OUT FOR THAT—

The call disconnected and Sonic turned heel and beelined for Angel Island. The Sandomancer was just a vague memory of someone not too dangerous to him. Not the most recent battle on his mind, even. He’d gone through more small-time villains, a couple of badnik swarms here and there, and a friendly-spar-disguised-as-a-heated-spat with Shadow when they crossed paths by chance. Something something G.U.N. mission, reconnaissance — totally boring. Fighting dirty until someone’s face ate concrete? Totally not boring.

Sonic still had aches from that fight. Totally worth it.

Angel Island was a long distance. Hours if you weren’t a supersonic hedgehog. Sonic was a supersonic hedgehog. If Knuckles said he needed help, help was exactly what he was gonna get. And it sounded like Rouge was already there? Weird. The more the merrier, though. He stopped off at Tails’s Workshop because there weren’t many ways onto a floating island in the sky, but the Tornado was one of them. He found his lil bro preparing for take-off. Seemed he’d gotten a similar call – he’d taken it a step further by bringing Amy onboard. Sonic grinned with an excitement that Knuckles would probably punch him for if he saw. He couldn’t help himself; today was shaping up to be a Team Sonic special.

Fighting alongside his friends was cool.

Team Sonic took to the sky.

Since Sonic was the one who took down the Sandomancer last time, it fell on him to explain what they were dealing with. After a couple of minutes of him recounting their last battle, Amy made a disgruntled-yet-polite face and asked him if he knew anything about the guy that wasn’t sandwiches. Like, why he’d gone after the Master Emerald in the first place. Sonic came up with a shrug. He hadn’t even known the guy was out of jail. Tails, helpful fox that he was, was already looking up info while flying the Tornado. His source? No idea. He chimed in that the Sandomancer had broken out before trial, swearing sandwichy vengeance. Seemed he had a record for being a villain’s sidekick. Must’ve gotten bored and wanted a turn at being the big cheese. Ah, office politics.

Still, all the guy could do was hit people with sandwiches. No biggie, right?

Biggie. Way bigger biggie. Rouge was there, like he’d thought. And whatever was going on, it was serious enough that, while Knuckles was calling in Sonic, she was calling in hedgehog reinforcements of her own.

Seriously would’ve appreciated the heads up before Shadow teleported onto the wing in a pop of Chaos. The Tornado banked as Tails jolted and Sonic’s proclivity for perching on the wing almost became his downfall – literally. The least Shadow could do was look remorseful, but no. He crossed his arms, like always, and his stare was a heavy application of unimpressed and deeply judgmental.

Sonic twitched under the intensity. Woah, who died?

Saying that out loud would’ve been a capital B Bad Idea, so he greeted him with, “Hey, Shadow, what’s hanging?”

“Sandomancer,” he intoned, slowly, clueing Sonic in to why he was looking at him like that. 

Amy and Tails were giving him a look of ‘please don’t antagonise him, Sonic’ and ‘you’re on your own with this one’ respectively. Fair. Not everyone knew how to push Shadow’s buttons without causing an explosion like he did. Good friends helped you outta those tight spots. Great friends rolled their eyes because you were flirting with danger and ended up skydiving without a parachute, and then turned the Tornado around to save you. 

“What can I say?” Sonic tried to suppress his grin at the pun he was about to make. Going by the way Shadow frowned suspiciously at him, it didn’t work. “I thought I sliced him weeks ago.”

The saying, if looks could kill came to mind. Whatever thoughts were going on behind Shadow’s eyes, they weren’t pretty for Sonic.

“Sandomancer,” he repeated stubbornly.

There was a hint of a plea in there, like he wasn’t sure if he was getting pranked. Mostly, he sounded like he wanted to punch Sonic off the wing of the Tornado. Probably spoke volumes about their relationship that Sonic could identify how punchy Shadow was feeling based on the tone of his voice. Live and learn. Or, bicker and dodge.

“I didn’t pick the name. If you got a problem, take it up with the big cheese himself.” Sonic winked. It was an atrocious pun. He knew it. He wasn’t sorry.

There was something like anguish on Shadow’s face. Or maybe it was rage. Let it be known that Sonic liked poking angry dragons for fun and profit. He was seventy percent sure Shadow would wait until they were on solid ground before he decked him in the teeth. He could punch harder that way. Those were good odds.

Sonic liked good odds.

Shadow took a step closer to him and Sonic felt the odds thinning out. He took a step back, holding out his arms to keep his balance as much as to ward Shadow off. He could hear the wind behind him and felt the yawning absence of ground. It worked as well as anything else did at stopping Shadow – which is to say, barely a flicker of hesitation before he shoved himself well and truly into his personal space. Nowhere else to go, Sonic could feel the malice emanating off him. No, wait, that was just the Chaos energy stored inside him. It was a light, buzzy feeling, static raising his fur. It was a funny feeling mixed with the way the wind swished over their quills. Like danger-flavoured soda bubbles.

He pretended not to see Amy mouthing exasperated words at him behind Shadow’s back. 

“I can tell you didn’t,” Shadow said with a seething, quiet sort of anger, which was a normal look for him. “I can tell because once again, I have to clean up your mess. I’m missing an important engagement for this.”

Sonic perked his ears, seeing an opportunity to distract him from committing violence. “Ooh, like a social thing?”

“Work, hedgehog.”

Blegh. Of course. “You gotta get a life outside of G.U.N., man.”

Sonic was only half-kidding. Every single time he saw Shadow, he was working. That much work couldn’t be healthy for a hedgehog. He could understand why the Commander of G.U.N., Abraham Tower, had a hard time saying no to Shadow, but, c’mon. He never stopped. Sonic wasn’t even sure if he slept. You had to put your foot down sometime. Just because he could knock out more missions than everyone else in the organisation combined didn’t mean he should. 

Still, he knew it was important to Shadow, so Sonic felt a little bit guilty that he was missing whatever arrangement he was supposed to be at, just to play backup. “Did Commander Tower say anything?” he prompted, to find out how guilty he should feel.

Shadow rolled his eyes. Maybe it was just the way wind was throwing his quills, but they seemed more relaxed this close up. It made his expression seem softer. Calmer. Nice. 

“I informed him of the situation,” he said. 

Sonic could’ve accepted it at that but, just, the way he said it, all deceptively relaxed. Like he was withholding information. Like he was trying to make it sound as uninteresting as he could. Sonic had a good instinct for sniffing out hidden details like that. It came with his qualifications of professional none-of-your-business poking.

“And?” he prompted, tilting his head.

Shadow huffed under his breath. He crossed his arms, looked the other way. Sonic couldn’t see his lips move but he heard the indistinct murmur of words. Something funny, then. A delighted grin pinched the corners of his cheeks. 

He leaned forward, into his space for a change, lilting, “What was that, Shadow?”

Shadow looked at him again. His glare was so much hotter. Or, colder? Whichever was the most murderous option. Again, he looked like he fancied throwing Sonic off the Tornado with his bare hands. But, for all his hostile posturing, he still repeated himself for Sonic’s amusement:

“He laughed until he nearly fell out of his chair,” he intoned, slowly. “And then he rescheduled the meeting for tomorrow, on the condition that I,” Shadow grimaced, “bring him a submarine sandwich for lunch.”

Wasn’t that a picture? He saw it clearly. He squeezed his lips together to stop himself from making noise. Sonic tried. He really did. The mirth came out of him in a spitting hiss. Shadow’s ears twitched down and his scowl curled to show his sharp canines. A wheeze escaped his chest, and then, the dam broke.

Sonic laughed so hard he nearly toppled off the Tornado.

Amy had to stick a hand out to catch him. Shadow was too busy glaring.

If you asked Shadow how this happened, he would tell you exactly how this happened.

G.U.N. had undergone a myriad of reform under Commander Tower’s watch. Among them, the implementation of directives aimed at communication within the workplace, fostering a friendlier environment, improving relations, and other objectives that were completely irrelevant in his eyes. There were only three kinds of people to Shadow. Allies, enemies, or neutrals. Only one of those required action. It was completely unnecessary for Team Dark to participate, bordering on hindrance.

But peace was built on the backs of these small, irrelevant things.

In recognition of that, Shadow could only acquiesce.

So it came to pass, Team Dark reported directly to Commander Tower once a month. Oftentimes twice. It was mandatory for them, which did not seem to be the typical case for other combat teams under the organisation. Words like ‘special circumstances’ and ‘lacking a typical support system’ and ‘unusual amount of high stakes missions’ floated lazily over his head. Whatever the reasoning happened to be, he was still forced to go.

(“I AM HAPPY WHEN THE INFERIOR ROBOTS EXPLODE, AND I AM SAD WHEN THEY DO NOT. MY OBJECTIVE IS CLEAR. THERE IS NOTHING MORE TO TALK ABOUT.” E123-Omega had declared.)

(“As long as they continue doing their job, I can do mine. Whatever they say about me off the field is none of my concern. I don’t care about being liked. I’m here to protect the world.” Shadow did not appreciate the line of questioning about if he noticed being treated ‘differently’ by operatives within G.U.N. Of course they did. He was a living weapon with blood ties to the Black Arms and more powers than they had names for. Half of them avoided him, and the other half were terrified of him.)

On top of that, it was painfully casual. Sitting down together, airing grievances, bringing up concerns, answering questions, like they were catching up. Commander Tower encouraged them to speak their minds and, worse, meant it. Nothing they said would leave the room. Rouge loved the experience, thrived on secrets and gossip. She always had new scandals to share, and she didn’t have to confess to any wrongdoing committed in the process of spying on the unsuspecting workforce of G.U.N.

She loved it. Shadow wouldn’t hate those meetings so much if Rouge did all the talking.

But Commander Tower insisted on wrangling conversation out of him, too. Targeting him, for some unknown purpose. As if his competency was in doubt. Asking him annoying questions he should either already know the answer to, or had no reason to ask, like a test of his willingness to reply.

(“Are the nightmares still bothering you?”)

(I sleep enough.)

(“Several people in your unit reported that you were absent during several meals.”)

(I was patrolling the camp.)

 (“The anniversary of her death is coming up, isn’t it? If you submit your request for time off, I’ll make sure it’s taken care of.”)

(I’m not taking time off.)

For this particular meeting, Omega wanted to submit a request form for upgraded weaponry. His best chance was to go straight to the Commander. He woke them both up, so early the sky was still dim grey, to proofread his proposal. A sign it was serious for him. He was an expert operator. He could print out a list of specifications and technical blueprints for what he wanted and where he wanted them. He lacked the tact to craft a compelling argument. It was not a weakness. It was simply the way he was.

Giving the destructive robot more weapons of destruction because the destructive robot wanted to make more destruction happen was not an adequate explanation to secure funding.

Optimising the firing rate and range of E-123’s turrets to shred through the reinforced shells of Eggman’s newest line of robots in combat situations, with new frag cannon rounds that should offer better precision and penetration against the heavily armored tank units, was an adequate explanation to secure funding.

Shadow could acknowledge that, contrary to his pragmatic nature, he was good at fluffing up words and sugarcoating bad ideas when he needed to. He had spent the morning reworking Omega’s proposal into a spiel of clever-sounding technical and military jargon that would’ve given even the Professor a headache. Better the chance of it getting passed through because no-one wanted to read the whole thing. The engineers who would read it, would be more interested in if they could create the upgrades, rather than if they should.

Underhanded? Yes. Giving Omega access to more firepower was not a responsible choice from an administrative point of view. It was certainly going to cause a spike in destruction of property costs and it would be flagged on G.U.N.'s end-of-the-year budget reviews. Until then, his team’s combat capabilities would be enhanced and Omega’s thirst for robotic carnage would be sated.

It was worth the tradeoff.

Let no one say Shadow was incapable of looking out for the greater good.

Rouge had found the process boring, because it was. No getting around it. She wasn’t the type to sit around for paperwork. She always needed something to do, something to put her attention towards. She’d flown off to find her own entertainment. Shadow didn’t think anything of it, knew she would be back in time for the meeting. She liked them too much not to be.

The weaponry proposal was going to have to wait, because while they had been putting their finishing touches on it, Rouge had gone to Angel Island to bother the local guardian. That wouldn’t normally be a problem. She was known to do that. These days, her attempts to steal the Master Emerald were feints for attention instead of genuine heists. The echidna fell for it every time regardless, which he suspected was the appeal for her.

Shadow couldn’t see what was to be gained in annoying someone so thoroughly.

Then again, barely a week ago he’d stumbled back from a low-risk surveillance job with woodland debris tangled in his quills, scratches splitting his fur, and bruises smattering his skin. Rouge glanced him over exactly once. Met Sonic on the job and couldn’t help yourself, honey? He’d nodded, scowling. She’d laughed at him, said something vaguely workplace-inappropriate about bruising instead of kissing, and let him sulk off to lick his wounds in peace without mention about the dozens of protocols he’d broken.

So, he had no room to judge her about what she found entertaining.

The problem was, she hadn’t been alone on Angel Island. Neither of them knew it at the time, but while she had been leading the echidna on a ridiculous chase, the Master Emerald fell into the hands of a villain. A villain with a name that Shadow made Rouge repeat, because his ears refused to believe her the first time. Sandomancer. The villain’s name was the Sandomancer, and he was attacking them with sandwiches. Not for the first time, Shadow wondered if Sonic just brought cartoonish mayhem wherever he went. Like a storm.

It was Sonic’s villain. He knew it was Sonic’s before his name could be uttered, because who else on planet Earth could provoke this much anger from a sandwich wizard? It was Sonic’s problem. Sonic’s problem, but Rouge was caught in the crossfire, and Rouge was Team Dark, which, unfortunately, made it his problem.

Like Omega, she wouldn’t ask for his help unless she was serious about it.

There was no good way to transport Omega to Angel Island. Chaos Control only worked so well without an emerald. Shadow couldn’t transport multiple objects without one, and Omega very much classified as multiple objects. Not to mention, the robot was currently banned from setting foot on the island. One bad day with a flamethrower and the echidna still hadn’t forgiven his trespass. Besides, the whole of Team Dark seemed like a lot of fuss for a relatively simple extraction, so he told Omega to take his patrol route for him. He’d be back soon, with Rouge, and probably a new hatred for sandwiches. Annoying. The threat level was so low, they’d have to make a new downwards scale on the chart to visualise how nonthreatening it was. Somewhere with ‘my kitten climbed up a tree, no she’s not stuck, she’s just going through her rebellious stage’ and Mrs. Tower calling to say, ‘Abe forgot to pack his suit for the conference, can you please be a dear and give it to him before he gets on the plane?’

If he had to name one good quality about Omega, it was that he had full confidence in Shadow’s ability to silence the enemy, regardless of who it was, or how absurd. He didn’t worry, didn’t fuss, didn’t fall over laughing, unlike some other people. The only emotion he displayed was his best approximation of a sigh, an exhale of steam from the vents on his red carapace, a faint shudder over chipped plates, settling like a pair of shoulders might droop.

“I WILL AWAIT YOUR RETURN. SEARCH AND DESTROY EVERY SANDWICH. LEAVE NONE UNHARMED.” 

He was sorry to be missing out on moving targets, Shadow knew.

He left with a nod. No time to hang around. Angel Island was a long, long way, unless you could fly.

He cut through the transit time with flame in his hover skates and leaps of Chaos Control, around and through and occasionally over landscapes of wild, difficult terrain like a rush of wind, unwavering and unstoppable, vanishing in and out as he phased through the flexible layers of reality. A journey that would take a day became a handful of hours under his speed. Those hours became a stretch of minutes when he teleported miles at a time. Maybe he could be seen from the satellites in space, a blur of gold light streaking over ordinary parcels of land.

As he moved through the jungle of Mystic Ruins, the idea that someone was trying to overrun something so vast and untamable with sandwiches was so absurd he wondered if he was having a particularly long-lived and complicated dream. It wouldn’t be the first time his nightmares came wrapped in layers of believable complexity.

He could’ve dreamt he woke up today.

He had a terribly persuasive feeling that he hadn’t.

He couldn’t dream of moving like this, of Chaos energy flowing so vividly under his skin, of editing Omega’s weapons proposal over a breakfast he was only half-paying attention to, of the laugh lines coming alive on his superior’s face as he struggled to maintain a professional façade while Shadow reported Rouge was being attacked by malevolent sandwiches. This was simply his reality. He was going to have to pluck up the courage to ask Rouge what the hell a submarine sandwich was made of, and where he could find one for Commander Tower tomorrow. She would laugh at him, but Shadow didn’t mind when she laughed. It wasn’t a mocking laugh. It was a token of her endearment. And she would help him, no matter how outlandish the request was. 

His first couple of years on Earth had been the worst. There was so much he didn’t understand, so much he hadn’t learnt from staring behind reinforced glass, so many things he was expected to know straight away.

The gaps in his knowledge were smaller and weaker these days, but there was always something to trip over.

He was shearing over the rolling hills of grassland and streams, searching the sky for an edge of the floating island hidden above the fluffy white clouds. It was a peaceful, clear morning, the kind where the wind was a calm breeze, flocks of birds moved towards the horizon, and the sun’s warmth shimmered on the surface of slow-moving water streams. Not quite the image of impending disaster he’d been led to believe. 

There was a shape in the sea of blue and white, too large to be a bird, spitting a smoky trail across the sky as it moved. It was bright red, which is how Shadow recognised it as the Tornado after a moment of squinting against the sunlight. He hummed, surprised and contemplative.

On one side, this made things bothersome.

On the other side, this made things fun.

He was going to hate this. Anticipation glittered through his veins and he was going to regret every morsel of it. Shadow reminded himself why he was here. He could’ve been through with the meeting by now. He wouldn’t have to dread it for a whole month. His combat prowess was being squandered on dealing with a petty villain that Sonic had aggravated in some way, and failed to handle. Not a Robotnik, not a Black Doom or a Biolizard or a Deadly Six or even a new E-series.

A Sandomancer.

A Sandomancer, who, by all accounts, had been unable to inflict any greater harm than disturbing the peace and public vandalism. There was an attempt to charge for environmental damage, but the charge was dismissed because proving the urban wildlife population (mainly, the pigeons) were harmed by the sudden appearance of so many sandwiches wasn’t feasible for such a minor crime. Not in a nation that had seen the likes of the Black Arms overrunning its cities, the tyranny of Doctor Robotnik’s takeover, the terror caused by the Eclipse Cannon, and the whole planet being shattered by Black Gaia.

(Shadow steadily refused to think about the fact that he’d been embroiled in helping bring about, if not the direct trigger, for two out of four of those history-defining events. Looking back only made it that much harder to keep moving forward.)

Finding that adrenaline-cool glitter adequately snuffed out, Shadow traced the path of the Tornado with his hand, then slid back through the overlapping layers of reality. It might be how it felt to jump into a river, if the water was Chaos in its purest form, and it moved through you, swept in directions guided by your will, not the other way around. He reemerged silently, going from peaceful grasslands to the vicious wind and cold and vertigo that accompanied high altitudes. The give of earth under his feet was replaced by steel. Clouds streaked past, blurring, as the plane’s pilot yelped and lost his hand on the controls.

Funnily, before anything else, Shadow’s eyes were drawn to the word SONIC proudly displayed on the plane’s body in big, blocky white letters. He didn’t write that, he thought, ears twitching against the harsh wind as his body adjusted to the sudden change. He would’ve put it in blue.

Shadow crossed his arms and turned his attention to the other thing his eyes were drawn to. A wash of annoyance draped over his thoughts, like he’d been conditioned to feel that when his sight filled up to a certain threshold with the colour blue. Not just any blue. This blue. Hedgehog-blue. Sonic-blue.

Sonic stared back with an appropriate amount of wariness. His mouth opened. Closed. Opened again, because Sonic could never let a silence stay silent, the way Rouge could not sit around for nothing and Omega could not write convincing proposals and Shadow could not determine the answers Commander Tower wanted to hear when he asked those odd questions at those odd meetings and seemed disappointed by his responses.

Not weaknesses. Simply facts.

“Hey, Shadow, what’s hanging?” Sonic’s unique voice was the final piece clicking into place. He wasn’t a G.U.N. agent missing a meeting or a member of Team Dark looking out for an ally or a living weapon to be feared by his colleagues or the reflection of a promise whispered fifty years ago on a brilliant girl’s dying breath. Right now, he was just Shadow, and he was incredibly annoyed.

Strange, how being perceived by certain people could change his frame of mind. How a flash of blue and a carefree smile could pierce straight through his composure, no matter the circumstances. His injuries from their last fight— spar— (Wasn’t it a conversation? In their own way?)—what-have-you, were healed, but the memory of them seemed to stir, lighting up in invisible lines and starbursts across his skin, under his fur.

The results of his reconnaissance were satisfactory, post-mission. The matter of broken protocol was forgotten in a pile of paperwork. Rouge’s remarks, not so much. One instance of many. Her words followed him, though they only reappeared in the quietest, safest moments, spilling over like a (re)collection of sparkling gemstones:

(“Honey, it’s not hard to tell when you’ve done hard sparring with Sonic. You wear bruises from him like they’re kisses. Chaos help us all if one of you gets bored of hitting. You two are bad enough as rivals.”)

“Sandomancer,” he intoned, slowly, the indignity of it coiling into the cadence of his tone. It was all he needed to say to convey the whole spectrum of his current grievances.

“What can I say?” His voice was a perpetual smile. Sonic’s brows twitched up, the way they did when he was struggling against a mischievous thought. Forewarning. “I thought I sliced him weeks ago.” The grin spilled free.

Shadow struggled not to dignify any part of that sentence by acknowledging it. That would be letting Sonic win. He wasn’t going to let him.

“Sandomancer,” he repeated, futile as a plea to the universe to rearrange the day’s circumstances.

Sonic folded his arms behind his head, like nothing in the world bothered him. It was a bold thing to do when his future hung on his ability to balance on the Tornado. If Shadow fell, at least he could use Chaos Control to catch himself. He was just like that. Reckless to a fault. That, very much, was a flaw; Sonic acted like he could never die. Shadow wondered how long that look would stay on his face if he fell from the sky. He wondered if he wanted to throw him himself, or be the one who jumped after him. Neither? Both? Together, all at once?

You’re infuriating, he thought. I want to fight you until one of us hits the ground. I don’t mind if it’s me.

“I didn’t pick the name. If you got a problem, take it up with the big cheese himself.” And Sonic winked at him.

Shadow clenched his teeth. His anger took him forward one step at a time. It radiated from him, darkly. Even Sonic suddenly gained the wisdom to back away, which did him little good. He’d forgotten, up in the sky, he had nowhere to run. His hands came up as he ran out of steps to take back. Shadow regarded the gesture for a second, then pushed through it. He didn’t get to corner him very often. It was a feeling to savour, the illusion of trapping the untrappable.

When he leaned close, he felt the Chaos energy that coursed through the blue idiot, the familiarity of being closer to it than most could manage. It was bright and starry, like a nebula. It tapped on his senses like raindrops. It was infuriatingly calming; in the gentle way raindrops were. 

“I can tell you didn’t,” he seethed, quieter, because he didn’t need to be any louder. “I can tell because once again, I have to clean up your mess. I’m missing an important engagement for this.” The fact he was dreading it was irrelevant. He was still missing it, and he was determined to make Sonic understand that was unacceptable.

Determination alone could not impress the importance of punctuality to a blue menace who had never been on time to anything in his entire life. Not because he was slow, of course. Because he was too easily distracted. Just like now, when his head tilted sweetly and his ears perked. As if he’d completely forgotten anything else, he asked, in a terribly interested tone of voice:

“Ooh, like a social thing?”

“Work, hedgehog,” Shadow corrected. Surely, he wasn’t that dense. He didn’t know what to make of the way Sonic’s expression dropped, as if the answer disappointed him in some way Shadow was not privy to.

“You’ve got to get a life outside of G.U.N., man,” Sonic complained. And then he looked at him, unexpectedly candid, even a little guilty, a little chastised. Miracles of miracles. “Did Commander Tower say anything?” he asked, softer.

Ah, so the hedgehog knew remorse. Shadow rolled his eyes, and it was a forgiving, relaxed sort of thing for him to do. That raindrop rhythm tapping so fast alongside his own. Reality’s layers were less complicated to pick apart than the enigma of Sonic the Hedgehog. Flexible as the wind he chased, unpredictable as whimsy itself, more solid than the rocky underbelly of Angel Island, sailing into view as the plane crested over the cloudbank.

He picked his next words carefully. “I informed him of the situation.”

That mischievous look came back.

“And?” He tilted his head, as if he needed to see Shadow’s face from a different angle to pick apart words left unsaid. Too knowing. Damn. They were almost there, sailing over the treetops, but if he jumped off now, he would have to make the journey to the altar on foot. Every inch was built to be a fortress. He hated the traps.

He turned his head the other way and mumbled discreetly to no-one. Then, there was Sonic, cornering him. How quickly the tide of battle turned. “What was that, Shadow?” He put his hand to his ear, visibly delighted.

Shadow took a deep breath and got it over with. “He laughed until he nearly fell out of his chair.” He glared at Sonic for good measure, daring him to comment. He didn’t. Shadow continued picking through his recollection of that unprofessional event. “And then he rescheduled the meeting for tomorrow, on the condition that I…” Chaos, his voice almost cracked. “Bring him a submarine sandwich for lunch.” He still did not know what a submarine sandwich was, exactly. Some kind of seafood monstrosity stuffed between slices of bread?

An undignified noise escaped through Sonic’s nose.

Shadow’s glare sharpened, liquid danger: Laugh. I dare you.

What happened next surprised no-one.

The ground pulled into sight, running underneath their feet as the Tornado dropped for landing. One hundred feet. Fifty feet. Twenty feet. Some unknown signal pulled Shadow and Sonic into sync as they dove off the wing and struck the ground running.

This, Shadow knew how to do. With Sonic dangerously on the cusp of overtaking him, retaliation came like instinct. He threw Chaos energy into the jets of his skates until sparks spat at his ankles. Sonic gave him a competitive grin, sweat beading on his forehead. This is fun, don’tcha think? the grin asked.

Their speed was reckless. They were shooting stars in the daylight.

Shadow’s answering smile was a flash of fang. Don’t get ahead of yourself.

The air became charged with Chaos the closer they ran towards the colossal shape of the altar, sticking out like a mountain amidst the ruins. It rattled through his bones in a way that chased the mischief from his expression, leaving a frown in its place. It felt like…

Like Chaos Control.

Going in with bad intel was worse than no intel at all. He’d taken part in missions from both categories. He hated the surprises more than the need to keep his guard up, to expect anything, because then nothing could catch him off-guard. Like this. The steady, heavy thrum of Chaos soaked him to his bones. So much of it was flowing out. No. So much of it was being pulled out. What for? Nothing good. This much power heralded sinister intentions.

“Woah, hold up!” Shadow didn’t listen to Sonic. Nothing new. He assessed the situation, decided it had to be stopped at all costs, and shot off like a rocket to accomplish just that, cutting through the thick pulse with his own Chaos Control.

He couldn’t reach as far as he wanted. Every millisecond inside reality’s folds was a struggle against writhing tidal waves with no end in sight. He abandoned the attempt, dropped where he could. There were monoliths bordering the steps of the altar. They might’ve held ancient writing, once. Now they were his footholds as he zig-zagged up, up, up. He reached out and coalesced some of that wild energy into a golden Chaos Spear. He kicked off the last monolith and let the jump take him high. He saw the Master Emerald below him. Rouge and the echidna. And a sandy-coloured lizard he didn’t recognise, cloaked in a storybook wizard’s attire. The lizard was holding a giant baguette. That was all the visual confirmation he needed.

Sweeping his arm in midair, Shadow launched the Chaos Spear at the Sandomancer.

Someone shouted something about the Master Emerald. It might’ve been the echidna. Tch. No confidence in his precision. Rouge knew better. Shadow noticed remnants of a sandwich splattered over her head as she gathered herself off the floor and took a nosedive off the side of the altar, dragging the echidna with her by the ankle. Wordless acknowledgment: he’s all yours, honey. She tumbled out of sight; a spinning blur of white and red fur, strong, flapping wings.

The Sandomancer was knocked clear off his feet by the Chaos Spear as it blasted him in the chest. He fell head-over-heels off the Master Emerald, baguette flying out of his hand. Shadow’s skates hit the crystal’s surface with a metallic ting as he landed, stealing the spot he’d stood on. The way he leaned forward in his crouched position, glare burning a hole through his back, was more alien predator than hedgehog. It felt like his muscles were on a hair-trigger, that he was a trap waiting to spring, and his teeth were sharp and ready to shred.

The Sandomancer looked behind him, seemed to regret it, and flopped over on his back, holding onto his hat dazedly. His head nodded a few times. He was only missing the halo of rubber ducks to make the complete picture of a stunned cartoon character. Then, he blinked, the slits of his nostrils flared, and lucidity seemed to return to him. He pointed at Shadow, his chest swelling indignantly, and he bellowed:

 “YOU!”

His face contorted in fury. It was such a genuine look of hatred, Shadow faltered for a moment. He didn’t keep track of his enemies. A minute ago, he’d been certain they’d never met, but now, he was second-guessing himself. Had they fought before? Wouldn’t he remember something like this? 

The Sandomancer gathered his wizardly robe like a skirt so that he could stand. Shadow assessed with a more careful, uncertain sweep. He had a long lizard’s tail, and his fingers ended in pads like a gecko’s. He had a spotty pattern. There were sandwiches on his hat instead of stars. He looked exactly the type of villain Sonic would stumble on. Not exactly the type Shadow would cross paths with. If he beat someone hard enough to leave a lasting grudge, there’d be at least a couple of bodies behind it.

Frothing at the mouth: “WE HAVE A SCORE TO SETTLE, WE DO!”

“Do we?” Shadow muttered, poker-faced. It was a reaction that had been instilled in him by experience. Villains reacted poorly when they realised they’d been forgotten by him. Maybe he’d gone by a different name?

“HOH-OH, I’VE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS DAY!” It seemed like every word out of him was a yell. “YOU’RE GOING TO PAY FOR HUMILIATING ME, HEDGEHOG!” He outstretched his hands manically. “I’LL ROLL YOU LIKE A LUNCH WRAP!”

Shadow drifted closer towards believing the Sandomancer had a screw loose. His threats made no sense to him. The dubiousness must’ve shown on his face, because the Sandomancer made a noise like he was choking on his own rage. “WELL?” he demanded, hopping impatiently. “WHAT’S THE MATTER? HAS MY SUPREME AURA RENDERED YOU SPEECHLESS? NOT SO MUCH A PUNY SIDEKICK NOW, AM I?”

“Have we talked before?” Shadow asked, perplexed.

The Sandomancer screamed in rage.

Shadow felt the manifestation of Chaos energy, popping up behind him, which meant he had enough forewarning to dodge the barrage of sandwiches that came for his back. The Master Emerald became vandalised by peanut butter and jam. He kicked off into another soaring leap, eyebrows creasing as he questioned how the manifestation of something so mundane was creating such a heavy ripple through space and time.

It didn’t matter. A weapon didn’t need to overthink. A weapon needed to fight until the enemy was rendered silent. He flipped, caught his footing on a monolith, used it to spring forward into motion with a kick like a scythe. The Sandomancer dodged back with a shriek.

Shadow threw out his arms to catch the ground and swung the momentum of his lower body into another strike. The side of his shoe made impact. The Sandomancer staggered, grabbing his face.

“SO VIOLENT!” he gasped.

Then, the baguette was in his hand. He thrust it forward. Sandwiches came for Shadow like a hail of bullets. It was his nature to dodge them, which took him around the width of the altar. He sent a Chaos Spear snapping at the Sandomancer’s heels. He stumbled, tripped, and fell off the side with a scream.

Sonic burst up the last steps in a ball of quills. “WHO’S READY FOR A BUTTKICK SAND—” He paused, eying Shadow’s stance, then followed his line of sight. “Did he—” Shadow gave the slightest of nods. Sonic whistled through his teeth, placing his hands on his hips. “Huh. Well, that was easy.”

A blur rose past the edge. Shadow sent a spear lancing across the space between them, but it was moving too fast and the spear shot wide. The Sandomancer was standing on the crust of a colossal, flying sandwich. Long, with lettuce and sesame-studded bread and other things that Shadow only considered in terms of how difficult it would be to pierce another shot through.

“I HAVE MORE POWER THAN YOU COULD EVER DREAM O—” the Sandomancer paused mid-sentence, rubbed his eyes. “THEY MULTIPLIED?”

Shadow raised his fist and growled, his body a line of aggression. Sonic rubbed under his nose with a familiar, cocky smirk. “Yeah. Hedgehogs multiply by osmosis, or whatever. Wow, you didn’t know? That’s kinda ignorant.”

Up on his sandwich, The Sandomancer spluttered.

“Mitosis,” Shadow corrected offhandedly.

Sonic frowned. “Really?”

“Osmosis is—” Shadow snapped out of those thoughts, shutting away the Professor’s lecturing tone. “It’s irrelevant. Stop yapping. It’s bad enough you neglected to mention he can manipulate Chaos energy.” 

He turned his head to glare and froze at Sonic’s dumbfounded look. “He can manipulate what now?” Sonic repeated. He sounded just as perplexed as Shadow had when the Sandomancer talked to him like a nemesis. 

Aware that his mouth hung slightly open, but not enough to care, Shadow gestured fervently at the sparking undercurrents of Chaos. It was surrounding them like sharks. It popped like fizzy candy on his tongue. “All of this, hedgehog.”

Sonic took a quick look, tossing his head from place to place. There was a lost look on his face that managed to be sheepish enough that Shadow believed it was genuine. “It, uh, it just feels like Angel Island to me, Shadow. No offence, but I think you’re underestimating the difference between ‘unusually sensitive’ to Chaos, and ‘comes preinstalled with sonar radar.’ You’re the second one, just to be clear.”

“I understood the metaphor,” Shadow grumbled.

“I don’t get what he could be using the Chaos for.” Sonic made a face; an idea coming to him. “Don’t tell me that’s where all these sandwiches—”

“Shut up and take him down. I don’t want to find out.” And he didn’t want to know. The idea that a power like Chaos Control was being squandered in the hands of this nobody – worse, being wasted on sandwiches, was something he could not abide by.

If he did not know, then he did not have to get angry.

If he did not get angry, he would not end up with his name next to Omega on the echidna’s blacklist. As troublesome as the traps could be, Shadow liked being allowed to tread on Angel Island. There was nowhere else on Earth with the same blend of tranquillity and Chaos energy.

(nowhere else that quite so perfectly matched his vision of what it would be like, when he daydreamed about visiting the mysterious planet in the window with Maria.)

(a good place for aching bones to rest. She would’ve liked to be buried here.)

(maybe she wouldn’t.)

(he’d never know.)

It wasn’t tranquil now, with a lunatic on a sandwich in the sky. Snapping waves of Chaos reinforced Sonic’s theory, the way it fluctuated as more sandwiches manifested from –- Shadow paid closer attention –- small portals. Sonic’s friends were holding their own on the ground. Rouge had joined the fight. They would keep them from getting overwhelmed from the backline, while he and Sonic dealt with the source, front and close.

“On your marks!” Sonic announced, holding out his hand.

Shadow understood the assignment immediately. The moment he grabbed his hand with his own, Sonic jumped into a spinning ball of quills. Shadow pushed Chaos into his heel to light his skates and span as fast as he could, as hard as he could. Strain rippling down the muscles of his arms, his back, in the best kind of way. He launched Sonic into the air, fast towards the Sandomancer. He felt the wind split like ribbon. The attack was nigh-unstoppable, shredding through defensive sandwiches not unlike the upgraded turrets Omega was vying for. The Sandomancer smacked him with a baguette and it staggered his momentum, though not enough to unbalance him. Sonic landed on the sandwich. He made a face, lifting his hands and shaking his foot.

“Ugh. Dude, that feels so weird.” He pinched the bread between his fingers. It tore off, white and fluffy underneath. “It’s crunchy. I feel like I should be bustin’ out the ketchup.”

His head shot up and he dodged a swing from the baguette.

“NO MORE TALKING! NOW WE FIGHT!” the Sandomancer declared. It was perhaps the only thing he’d ever say that Shadow agreed with, unconditionally.

Sonic rolled over the breadth of the floating sandwich, dodging more baguette blows as he went. “C’mon, I’m on a roll with this one!” he taunted. Shadow received a glimpse of how the previous fight had played out. The Sandomancer’s scream-high pitch was understandable. Irritating, but understandable. “Rye so serious, man?”

“RAAGH!” The Sandomancer threw aside the baguette and conjured a bigger one, swinging it over his head like a bat. “THAT’S IT! YOU’RE TOAST, HEDGEHOG!”

Sonic’s smile was all mischief. “That one was kind of half-baked. Wanna try again?”

Shadow read the pattern in the air and sensed that something was amiss before the Sandomancer moved. Chaos Control moved through him in a sharp snap. It was almost painful, crossing so fast through electric lines, but he was in front of Sonic and pulled him towards the ground before the portal opened underneath him. The gaping lettuce-lined maw of something that looked like a sandwich and wasn’t a sandwich reared through it, chomped thin air, and dropped back into the portal’s mouth. It closed in an unstable zap of energy that rattled in his bones, smacked into him like a shockwave. Shadow took them both down to the altar, and then he had to stop, because his whole body felt like a mismatched static-fuzz of garbling cells and electricity. Breathe. Realign.

“What,” Sonic squeaked, and he sounded too shocked to tease Shadow about coming to his rescue, which was a small blessing in the grand scheme of things, “what the fresh-from-the-oven hell was that?”

“Something to avoid,” Shadow said simply, because that’s what it was.

He pulled his thoughts together. Felt the blood coursing through his veins, the heart beating in his chest, the power whispering around his limbs. A whole structure. He resolved that he wouldn’t use Chaos Control again for this battle, unless he had no other choice. It seemed a poor mix with whatever temporal anomaly the Sandomancer was using to conjure his sandwiches…and sandwich-adjacent monstrosities. “I can’t use Chaos Control like that again,” he added, warned.

Sonic shuddered. “I—yeah, fair. It felt weird.” He paused thoughtfully. “Weirder than usual, I mean.” Shadow gave him a peeved look, which went ignored. “That’s all because of these, what, portal thingies? The ones he’s making with the Master Emerald’s power?”

“Whatever he’s doing with it is twisting time and space into powerful knots,” Shadow agreed, trying to crystallise the abstract feeling into something that made sense. Hold onto being physical, present. He was mostly grounded, but, at the very edges, he still felt flickers of that fuzzy, incorporeal, temporal buzz. “If I get caught in one…”

Well. The possibilities were horrifying. An instant death would be one of the kindest. As someone who shared his familiarity with manipulating Chaos, Sonic didn’t seem keen to dwell on the idea either:

“Nope, please don’t finish that sentence, I do not wanna have nightmares tonight. Hearing you loud and clear. Wouldn’t want ya getting twisted up into a Shadow-pretzel on my account.” He dispelled the mood with another one of those infuriating winks of his.

Shadow thought about punching him. He broadcast it loudly on his face. Why was he stuck dealing with him? Wasn’t there usually an ally or two to act as a buffer? But looking down to assess the scene on the ground would mean looking away from the one in front of him.

Sonic was grinning at him. Not just in his direction. At him. The kind that made his green eyes sparkle. Like Shadow was somehow the most amusing, interesting thing in the entire world, despite the fact they were under attack from flying sandwiches. That was almost certainly far more interesting and amusing.

He didn’t hate it.

Speaking of which—

They dived off opposite ends of the altar as the massive sandwich dropped on their heads like a falling chandelier. Shadow landed on the steps and he assumed Sonic did the same. The Sandomancer turned around and their eyes met. Shadow felt the distinct prickle of forewarning along his quills. The way he was looking at him, like—

He couldn’t tell the difference between him and Sonic.

Damn you, he thought, and couldn’t decide who it was meant for.

“AH-HA! I HAVE YOU NOW, HEDGEHOG.” The Sandomancer’s voice was filled with malicious delight. He truly thought he had cornered Sonic. Shadow’s ears flicked back as he fought the urge to groan. The Sandomancer opened his mouth again and Shadow was struck with the horrible realisation that he was going to monologue. Please, no. “YOU MAY HAVE NOTICED, BUT I WILL TELL YOU ANYWAY, BECAUSE I WILL NOT ALLOW A SINGLE MOMENT OF MY GREATNESS TO BE WASTED ON YOUR THICK SKULL.”

Shadow gauged the distance between them and wondered if he could make the leap, punch him in the teeth. He didn’t like the odds. There was so much jam on the ground. As much as it killed him inside, waiting for Sonic to sneak around and ambush him from behind might be the most effective battle tactic available. And it did kill him inside. It really did. A childish part of him wanted to cover his ears and start humming to cover the noise.

The stuff he was made of, his very core, was built on resilience in the face of suffering.

So, poker-faced, Shadow silently suffered on.

“I DESERVE TO BE RECOGNISED FOR MY GREATNESS. AFTER ALL, WHO ELSE CAN CLAIM TO RIP PHYSICAL OBJECTS OUT OF ALTERNATE TIMELINES? BUT EVERYONE LAUGHED AT ME. THEY LAUGHED! WELL! WHO’S LAUGHING NOW?” He tossed his head back and cackled. He cackled until he choked. His tongue had a split at the tip, like it couldn’t decide if it wanted to be forked or not. “AHEM! TREMBLE. ACKNOWLEDGE MY SUPERIORITY AND I MAY SHOW YOU MERCY.”

Shadow stared with blank eyes, untremblingly. He could beat him into a paste with his bare hands. The Sandomancer didn’t seem to understand that he was in the presence of the Ultimate Lifeform. He was inferior to Shadow in every conceivable way. If he was trying to kill him, he would simply be dead. The longer he stared, the longer the silence stretched, the more nervous the Sandomancer seemed. He started to sweat. Shadow slowly lifted a brow.

Where the hell was Sonic?

(The answer was ‘being attacked by a school of piranha-like BLTs on the other side of the altar.’)

(Shadow would not receive this information until later.)

(At the time, the lack of blue hedgehog jumping onto the scene only annoyed him even more.)

“If you think you can defeat me with your foolish tricks, then I’m done playing nice,” Shadow drawled.

“THAT- THAT WAS YOU PLAYING NICE?” The Sandomancer boggled. Then, he seemed to remember himself and his misplaced bravado. Pity. He wiped the sweat from his forehead and straightened to his full height. “VERY WELL! YOU WILL HAVE THE HONOUR OF BEING MY FIRST TEST SUBJECT. CONSIDER IT A RETURN TO SENDER!”

Shadow had no idea what stupid shenanigans Sonic had gotten up to during their first encounter, but it seemed to have left a lasting impression on the wizard-robed lizard. He was fine without knowing the context. Really. It fell under the category of the rarest type of information – the kind he was pleased to go without.

The Sandomancer pointed at him and a ripple of Chaos followed. Shadow dove aside without looking down to see what the portal was for. He had no intention of becoming the lunch of a sandwich monster from an alternate dimension. Dug in his heels before he toppled off the side of the stairs. His soles spat sparks on the stone. The portal was bigger than the others. He waited. Nothing came through it. A cold, creeping sensation worked its way up his spine.

He wasn’t trying to bring something out.

He was trying to push someone in.

Alternate timelines, domains so wide and vast, and he clearly lacked the control to decide where they led to.

The Sandomancer was too stupid to realise how dangerous it was.

Or, perhaps, smart enough to know exactly how dangerous it was.

A portal ripped open behind him. It had a powerful vacuum, like a screaming void desperate to fill itself. Shadow was barely, barely strong enough to work himself free. He clenched his teeth. He could feel it pulling on the fabric of his very existence, trying to whisk him away. Where? Somewhere. He didn’t want to go. A second portal opened along the way. He skidded from it in a burst of flame. Bad. This was bad. He knew the sandwiches were being summoned in absurd quantities, but dodging a seemingly limitless barrage of fast-moving portals was a step up from avoiding the projectiles they spat out.

Still. That was no logical excuse for forgetting about them.

The sandwich came from seemingly nowhere. Slapped the back of his head with a thump. The most dangerous thing about it was that it startled him, all keyed-up instincts and the steady thrum of fight, fight, don’t let your guard down. A pop of adrenaline that hazed his sharp thinking. Not by much. Just enough.

Ironic, as the aggressive flinch borne of instincts meant to save him brought him straight into the path of a new portal instead. It opened up to him, yawning wide. He got a good look inside it. The deep, unfathomable depth of infinity. Chaos moving in patterns he’d only seen in his nightmares. The most abstract nightmares. His heels were already off the ground. He couldn’t stop his momentum. Chaos Control flashed through him. He phased, like a glitch, and he couldn’t change course in any way that mattered. It was as trapped in the portal’s pull as he was.

“SHADOW!”

Sonic came barrelling towards him. Reckless and wide-eyed. Doing exactly what he would do, seeing someone fall through one of those portals: trying to catch him.

DON’T, he couldn’t shout in time. Shadow threw his arms forward and hit the solid barrel of his front as seventy-seven pounds of blue hedgehog slammed into him. The pull was stronger. He used his strength and shoved Sonic aside. Somewhere, anywhere, away, because the only thing worse than getting lost in a portal was if both of them got lost in a portal.

He couldn’t save either of them, in the end.

Shadow slammed against solid metal. Sonic slammed on top of him, which furthered his disorientation. The metal felt cold under his back. It helped, focusing on that cold. Shadow blinked until his blurry vision resolved itself, sharpening over a floor of steel tiles and a ceiling with vents and fluorescent lights. Like every secret base he’d ever visited or infiltrated. That must be why it raised his hackles. Sonic’s palms pressed into his chest. He raised himself on an awkward kneel, which was an improvement from crushing him to the floor.

His dazed silence spoke volumes.

Neither of them were inclined to move. There was some kind of truce in that stunned, long moment. They were somewhere, which was not where they were supposed to be. They were alive, which came as a pleasant surprise. The portal had swallowed them whole in Chaos, like falling into a deep ocean, each layer of reality a new league under the sea. Sonic looked fine. Shadow presumed he also looked fine. Heart was beating. Blood was pumping. It was unnervingly still, the way everything suddenly lacked the craze of Chaos.

The way it all, so suddenly, stopped. They were alone. There was no battle. No sound except the sterile air ghosting through the vents and their own staggered breathing.

Sonic’s stare flicked down to meet his. His green eyes were still dull with shock. “Are you okay?” he asked, uncertainly. It was a stupid question. Shadow gave him an unimpressed look to convey this. Sonic’s lip curled into a subdued smile. “Heh. I can’t believe you flung yourself right into that portal. Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone.”

He growled. Truce over. Shadow hauled himself upright, dislodging his Sonic-shaped passenger. Sonic slithered to the floor like a crumpled blanket, then followed his lead. He rubbed his shoulder with a wince. Shadow remembered pushing him away. He’d hit him hard and it hadn't changed a thing. A pinprick of guilt bubbled in his chest. Then, Sonic rolled his shoulder, tested his fist, and flexed his bicep in a ridiculous way, and Shadow lost all stirrings of pity for him. He wore injuries from their scuffles like colourful badges.

(and you wear his like—)

Sonic looked around, hummed. The next logical thing to say would be ‘where are we?’ or ‘how do we get back?’ or even ‘I have a crazy idea, hear me out.’ Shadow was receptive to any of those choices. Anything that would get them off the floor and marching towards their next objective, which was, quite obviously – get back to our own world.

Sonic said none of those things. Sonic looked around as he hummed, slowly gained a look of confusion and recognition all at once, and then passed that look onto Shadow as he said, questioned:

“It’s a lot less rundown than I remember, but… isn’t this Space Colony ARK?” 

The familiarity of those tiles and lights. The way he knew the vents were pumping sterile air by the way it tasted in his lungs. “It can’t be,” he said hoarsely, scanning their surroundings. Nondescript. Every secret base ever. Somewhere this important to him – should be recognised on sight, shouldn’t it? The last time he visited was years ago, just to make sure the only thing lurking inside its dark halls were ghosts of the past.

The room they were in. There was a large observation window that took up a whole wall. It was dark outside, reflecting the interior lights like a black mirror. It made his throat go dry.

“It totally can be,” Sonic argued back, clamouring to his feet. He strode over to the window and Shadow could do nothing except struggle to his feet and follow. He didn’t want to see this. He had to see this.

Outside, the moon.

The moon as neither of them had seen it since the Eclipse cannon destroyed half of it. A moon that swallowed up so much space, vast and grey and pockmarked with craters. Perfect canvas for bored space children. All you needed was imagination and a dry-erase marker. Shadow dragged his finger over the glass. It squeaked under his touch. When he checked, his fingertip came stained away with dry-erase ink.

“Dammit,” he muttered, staring at the ink like it was blood. 

It was a very small thing, in the broader scope of signs that were glaring at him from all angles. The ARK wasn’t supposed to be clean. The ARK hadn’t been maintained since its abandonment. The ARK was a shell of something glorious that was falling apart piece-by-piece, giving up its bloodstains and secrets to the vacuum of space. There was no power unless the emergency generator was on. The air had gone stale. The silence was filled with the rattle and creak of fifty year-old machinery that was holding on out of stubbornness and spite, much like the man who had designed it. The damage caused by the Eclipse Cannon Incident and a pair of hedgehogs going Super was never fixed, because there was no-one left to fix it. There was debris all over the place. The floors and ceilings were caved in. It had a haunted silence to it, like the tomb it was. That was Space Colony ARK as Shadow remembered it.

This… was not that place.

This was the place that came before that.

He knew it in a different way. 

He saw in his nightmares.

As he and Sonic stared in that quiet, awed sort of shock at the moon’s unmarred surface, the rest of the ARK came alive with a blaring series of alarms. A steady voice reverberated through the intercom system. Operatives of G.U.N. were about to board. Please remain calm. Do not leave your stations. This is a routine inspection.

Sonic cursed softly under his breath. The sound of it was so unlike him, Shadow snapped out of his shock. If this was his reality, then his nightmares were a perfect rehearsal. All the places in the multiverse, it threw them straight back into the day of the massacre? Fine.

“Follow me,” he said gravely.

“Right behind ya,” Sonic said, though his delivery fell flat. His expression was full of grim understanding.

Shadow had no more room to be surprised. He led Sonic out of the observation room. The familiarity he was missing drifted together in small shards. He almost went for the hall that had collapsed into an avalanche of debris that acted as the safest access to the lower levels, before he remembered the floors had not collapsed yet. They wouldn’t, for fifty more years. Biting back his irritation – so familiar, and so unknown – he cut a decisive path to the maintenance hallways and hoped the passcode for the doors hadn’t changed across dimensions. It looked the same from the outside – with a square viewing panel cut in the middle.

16 – (he tapped fast) 1 – (was someone coming?) 19 – (someone was coming) 23 – (who was it?) 15 – (he grabbed Sonic’s arm; if the code didn’t work, they had to run) – 18 – (if this nightmare was real, it had to work) – 4.

UNLOCKED.

They tore into the maintenance tunnel. Shadow shouldered it closed and hit another button and the door relocked. The lights were dim. The narrower walls were lined with fire safety equipment, protocol reminders, and evacuation charts. Sticky notes from staff. Shadow and Sonic ducked underneath the door as the footsteps stampeded past them, shadows fleeing across the beam of light projected by the viewing window.

 As the sound faded, Sonic lifted his head. He peeked through the window before Shadow could yank him down.

“Those look like scientists,” Sonic muttered.

Shadow thinned his lips. “The senior researchers were the first people who knew something was wrong,” he said. “They knew more about… the Professor’s indiscretions, than most people. There was research that had to be destroyed. It couldn’t fall into anyone else’s hands.” He hedged around the subject of the Black Arms. Sonic nodded comprehendingly. He didn’t make a joke, as he was known to do.

“I dunno if this place is real or not, but we’re definitely not supposed to be here,” Sonic assessed. “We’ve gotta get back to our own place and time. Our friends must be totally freaking out.”

Our friends, he says. Shadow hummed, turning over the facts in his mind. They were in a different place. A different timeline, if the Sandomancer knew what he was talking about. On top of that, they were possibly in the past. Or, they were still in the present, but in this timeline, the events that took place fifty years in the past were happening today. Was that why they ended up in this timeline, out of infinity? Because it was today? No. He’d make his own head spin trying to make sense of it.

“If some form of Chaos Control is what brought us here, then maybe it can bring us back.” Shadow lowered his voice, out of reluctance. “If we use it together.”

“Oh, like we did when we were trapped in Crisis City! Great idea, Shadow.” Sonic perked up. He faltered just as fast. “Uh. Huh. Hey, is it just me, or do I suddenly remember—”

“Soleanna? Solaris? Iblis? Mephiles?” Strange. Shadow couldn’t remember what those names meant until the words left his mouth. Then he remembered them so intensely, he couldn’t imagine how he forgot them. “…It seems our nosedive through reality came with side effects.”

“We went Super and beat up a god,” Sonic breathed. “And I forgot? That’s so uncool. Ah, heck, I hope that’s the only cool thing we’ve forgotten ‘cause of time shenanigans. I should write this down.”

“I have a feeling we’ll both forget what it means as soon as we restabilise,” Shadow murmured. “If luck is on my side, I’ll forget this conversation as well.”

“Hey!”

It was relatively peaceful in the maintenance hall and unwise to be anywhere outside of it. They both needed a chance to absorb the reality they’d been thrust into, he thought. Being on the ARK was one thing, being on the ARK during its darkest hour was another.

Leaning against the wall, Shadow distractedly plucked through these new memories. He was curious. He didn’t know if he would get another chance to remember something like this. Recovering memories was a feeling he should be used to, but never got the hang of. They were gone, and suddenly they were there, like they’d always been, and they felt so solid and real that he was sure they’d been there all along.

The Sceptre of Darkness and the Flames of Disaster. That walking, talking pantomime of himself. His fate in that doomed future, shown to him in a way he couldn’t refute. Betrayed by his allies. And still—

(“Even if you believe everyone in the world will be against you, know that I’ll always be by your side. Remember that.”)

He hadn’t. It was the only thing he’d regret forgetting when this was said and done.

But he believed Rouge. He believed her then, and he believed her now. She was waiting for him on the other side. Her and Omega. Escape was his top priority.

(“If the world chooses to become my enemy, I will fight like I always have.”)

Like a dream he couldn’t remember waking up from. If those were his side of the memories, could Sonic remember the side he went through? All of it? That hellish creature that devoured the sun. The destruction of everything. The rage and desperation that kept Shadow moving forward, seeking a different ending in the ruins of the last, while ‘Sonic is dead, he’s dead, he’s dead’ rang in his head like a mantra. Maybe those kinds of memories were best left forgotten.

The lights flickered ominously. 

Shadow glanced up. Nothing for it; they needed to keep moving. His gaze hooked on the grate of a duct. Ventilation. The shafts would be difficult to breathe in, but he and Sonic shared the latent ability for Chaos to allow them to breathe in places they really, really shouldn’t. The system ran through the whole ARK. There was no better way to sneak around undetected in a crisis.

“I hope you’re not claustrophobic,” he remarked, which prompted Sonic to follow his gaze.

“I’ve been crawling through vents longer than you’ve known me,” Sonic boasted. “Egghead always makes ‘em big and inviting. What’s a hedgie supposed to do, not use 'em to sneak around and sabotage all his bots to do the moonwalk?” He squinted up. “Guess it runs in the family.”

If they were not in such a dire situation, Shadow would not have been able to resist asking what the hell Sonic got up to in his free time.

Fortunately for his sanity, they were in such a dire situation. He shook it off smoothly. 

“I’ll give you a lift. Can you get the cover off?” Shadow got into position, braced his balance to support someone else’s weight.

“Uh, hello. Professional vent explorer over here.” Sonic took the handhold. Shadow lifted him to the vent. His foot was braced on his shoulder. He went on tiptoe. “Honestly, what do you take me for?” Shadow heard scratching. It sounded like—

“Is that your quill?” he asked incredulously.

“No, it’s the screwdriver I take with me everywhere just in case I gotta break into a vent,” Sonic bickered. His centre of balance shifted slightly. Shadow adjusted his own to compensate. If he planted his feet and didn’t forget he was supporting someone, he was a reliable foothold. Sonic continued attacking the duct cover.

A screw plinked by his shoe. Sonic made a victorious noise.

“I don’t know why I expected you to do something normal,” Shadow sighed, shutting his eyes. “A homing attack, perhaps.” A second screw fell. He almost wished he could see what he was missing. Almost. It wasn’t every day you saw Sonic the Hedgehog unscrewing a duct cover with one of his own quills.

Sonic chuckled, stretched to reach the next screw. Shadow swayed with him. “Gotta fight for my title, y’know?”

“What title?”

“It’s called the ‘Guy Who Never Ceases to Surprise You’ award. I’ve been the defending champion since we met.”

“You don’t deserve a medal,” Shadow said instantly.

Sonic conceded, “Fine. I’ll take a trophy.”

“You’re not getting a trophy either,” Shadow drawled mockingly. “I should’ve known someone couldn’t be this obnoxious without a competitive element to it.”

“Excuse me, this obnoxiousness is all natural—BABY!” There was a brief second where he wobbled, dangerously, tipping for a fall. Shadow quickly corrected his balance. “Aaa. Phew. Thanks.” The third screw rolled across the floor and Sonic went for the final one. “I should probably bring this down slowly, huh?”

“Yes.” Then, because Shadow knew Sonic, “Are you going to?”

The last screw and the duct cover fell simultaneously and hit the floor with a clatter that went off like a firework in the vacant hallway. “Pfft. Nah.” 

Sonic’s weight tipped forward, his foot left his shoulder, and then the heaviness he was supporting lifted away like a drifting balloon as Sonic crawled into the duct, rodent-like.

“Nice and roomy,” he joked. It was about time a stupid joke made it past the sombre undertone of their conversation.

He was also right. The vent was large enough for a human to crawl in. A hedgehog had plenty of room. Two hedgehogs could fit side-by-side, albeit squished closer than comfortable. Sonic reached down with an offering hand. There was a little too much going on around him for Shadow to put up any stubborn front or refuse on the principle of pride. He just wanted to leave. He took his hand and used it as an anchor to haul himself to the lip of the vent. Then, he pulled himself in.

His quills instantly flattened against the ceiling. With a little shuffling, Sonic turned himself back around. They were shoulder-to-shoulder. Cramped, but workable. They set off. Shadow visualised the layout in his head. A map would be convenient. Nothing about this situation was convenient, so he did not get to have a map. Light bled through the grates under his knees. Their quills rasped along the walls. The soft thud of moving limbs. Looking down was a mistake. Seeing the source of his nightmares from a different perspective did not make his blood run any less cold.

He told himself it was just for a little longer. A little longer, and they’d be gone, and he could worry about screamy sandwich wizards. Omega’s weaponry proposal. That damn postponed meeting he still had to attend. Stressful things. Normal things. It was cold in the vent, yet pinpricks of sweat still tickled his face. It felt like the walls were getting tighter around him, even though they weren't. Every inch of the ventilation system was a masterclass in precise measurements. The alternative, well, he'd never thought himself claustrophobic before. 

His breaths came shallowly.  

“So,” Sonic piped up. His voice echoed. Shadow bristled in annoyance. A silent retreat was too much to ask for, he supposed. “Maybe the time to ask was before we crawled in here, but where are we heading?”

Shadow gave him a look that was only half-incredulous. “To find a Chaos Emerald.” Obviously, went unspoken, but very much implied. Why else would they be crawling through the ventilation system?

Sonic’s arm twitched with the start of a gesture. His elbow thudded on the wall. He winced and hissed and bit back another curse word, as if he was in polite company. Shadow did not attempt to mask the satisfaction on his face. He welcomed anything that stopped the walls constricting. Sonic rubbed his elbow and glared at him, lukewarm. 

It was not particularly threatening. 

“Really,” Sonic deadpanned, with pain-laced whispering. “I thought we were going to buy chili dogs.”

“Sarcasm doesn’t suit you, hedgehog,” Shadow decided. He turned his face the other way. “The Chaos Emeralds were powering the escape pods. Last time.” His voice was detached. Impersonal. Reciting a mission debrief. He thought he did a good job of talking around the lump around his throat. “If this timeline is so similar that the passcodes are identical, then that should be the first place we look.” 

There was silence. Then, “I see,” Sonic murmured, low. “Well, some things tend to stay the same no matter what the world’s deal is. Might be rough, but it’s worth a shot.”

Shadow didn’t know what to make of his voice. Lower, hoarser. Sincere in a way that burned through his defensiveness. He could handle Sonic being loud and obnoxious. But this? This was worse. The lump in his throat grew heavier. They’d stopped moving. Sonic didn’t try to suggest they move further. He hadn’t felt this much out of his depth, even when he’d lost his memories the second time, and circumstance half-convinced him that he was a rogue android.

The walls squeezed in again. 

“What other worlds have you been to?” he demanded gruffly, drowning out the hummingbird-beat in his chest. Despite Shadow’s mocking tone, Sonic smiled at him faintly, like he could hear it, like he understood in a way that made his chest ache. Sonic tapped his bottom lip in mimicry of deep thought.

“There was this one time I got sucked into a storybook and ended up taking the place of King Arthur.” There was no twitch or tell, strangely. “You were Lancelot, by the way.” Then, the cheeky grin made a small appearance. “When you realised how awesome I was, you declared I was the rightful king and bowed to me. I think you also swore your undying loyalty to me? It was a while ago, can’t remember.”

The unimpressed look came naturally to Shadow. “If you’re going to lie to me, at least make it believable.”

Sonic answered with a widening grin, and, most concerningly, no outward sign of deception. His eyes glittered like Shadow’s response amused him. “Yeah. I had a feeling you wouldn’t believe me either.” 

Shadow thinned his lips and decided not to pursue an answer. For his own sake. The hedgehog attracted absurdity like a glittering gem attracted Rouge. Case in point, their current location. “Keep moving,” he muttered, and led by example.

He refused to acknowledge how his heartbeat had calmed after Sonic’s ridiculous attempt to distract him. How the trapped feeling lessened. He was more disciplined than that. He shouldn’t need to be distracted. This – unprecedented circumstance, was testing his strength and will. He had to do better than that. If he’d learnt nothing at all, then it was all for nothing. It was going to be fine, because it had to be. Every shuffle and drag brought him closer to the end of this reawakened nightmare. The way ahead was a tunnel of looming, ominous darkness, broken up by the occasional smatter of light.

Sonic was all angles of warmth and soft fur, digging into his side.

A gunshot rang out. The echo of it screamed through the dark vents. Shadow’s entire body leapt, but there was nowhere to go, nothing to fulfil the instinct of attack, defend, survive. His limbs thudded dully on the metal surfaces. He pressed against the solid, warm presence without the luxury of thinking. Fear hissed through his teeth and adrenaline made him shiver head to toe. Nowhere safe, couldn't guard, couldn't dodge, like this. Then, Sonic’s voice in his ear, murmuring reassurances in a soft, anxious tone:

“It’s okay, we’re okay, nobody even knows we’re up here, c’mon Shadow—”

He grimaced, closed his eyes. Collected the scraps of his composure off the ground. They were trembling, full of fight he couldn’t give. Frantic adrenaline he couldn't satiate. Trapped and compressed, crawling through a vent of their own. 

“It was a warning shot,” he whispered hoarsely. “They’ve boarded.”

No need to explain who ‘they’ were. Sonic’s exhale was a shaky thing. Shadow couldn’t see anything but the darkness behind his eyes, but he felt the way he shuffled uncomfortably on his knees. Then, Sonic laughed. 

It was as shaky as his breaths, and just as thin. 

It wasn’t a playful kind of laugh.

“This is the worst,” Sonic admitted. He sucked air through his teeth, glanced up at the ceiling. “Ohh, I wish that portal would‘a dropped us into an ocean world instead.” Shadow opened his eyes just as Sonic shut his. “I don’t— I can’t— this is—” His teeth clenched, “fuck.”

Shadow’s ears flicked backwards, too stunned to say anything in response. 

Sonic cracked one eye open and grinned resignedly. “What? You’re not the only hedgie who can say grown-up words.” 

The teasing in his voice fell a little flat. For the first time since this ordeal began, Shadow registered how stressed Sonic looked.

He wanted to say something comforting. Some kind of assurance. The kind of thing he saw others do, in similar situations. Reach out and touch his shoulder in a way that would settle his soul and drain the darkness from his eyes. They were supposed to be bright. The darkness was supposed to fill his. He did not often find himself wishing for such soft, tender things, let alone being the one who could provide them.

“This is close enough to the evacuation room,” he said, instead, because he was not made of gentle things. This was the only comfort he knew how to provide. “We can drop down and make the rest of the way on foot.”

It’s better than staying in the vents, went unsaid.

The sounds are going to be unbearable, went implied.

“Yeah?” Sonic scrubbed a hand over his face. Shadow didn’t comment. He put a brighter smile on his face. It was not genuine, but the effort behind it was as achingly sincere as everything else. “Yeah, sure. Might take a sec to unscrew the cover from this side, though.”

Shadow glanced down. The corridor below them was clear. The soldiers were barring it, because it led to the evacuation room. The long windows that looked out into space were dark here as the ones in the observation deck, dotted with reflections of harsh lights. There were a few off-shoots that connected it to other corridors, because the evacuation room was supposed to be reachable in an emergency.

As far as he knew, no-one else made it to the pods.

(if Maria hadn’t been there, you wouldn’t have made it either)

He clenched his hand into a fist and slammed the grate.

The metal tore like paper. He hooked his fingers into the mangled frame and peeled it off its screws. He dropped the remains. It fell to the floor with a clatter, shredded metal pieces scattered on pristine spaceship tiles. What was left was a hole big enough for them to slip through. It was a long way to the ground. No different from the falls they took on the regular. Shadow went first, sliding one knee after the other until he was hanging by his fingertips. He let go. His shoes hit the ground with an impact that made him grunt, shock rolling through his form.

An easy landing, all things considered.

He stared up challengingly. Sonic’s face was visible, peering out. The rest of him was concealed by the vent. Shadow deliberately turned his back with an inpatient gesture. You coming? An answering thud of blue quills dropped at his side, rolling smoothly through the impact. Sonic dusted his knees as he stood up.

Sonic stretched his arms behind his head, savouring the abundance of space. “My back is so unhappy with me right now,” he said conversationally. More distracting him with his boisterousness. Understanding it for what it was, Shadow gave a curt nod. Sonic took it as permission to continue chatting. “When this is all over, I’m gonna treat myself to chili dogs with all the works. One giant dog. If I can hold it in one hand, it’s not enough toppings.”

Gentle rain. His energy, as he walked beside him. Like gentle rain. The soothing quality of it took on a different significance. His voice also like raindrops. Soothing. Shadow tipped his ear to show he was listening. Focused on what was ahead of him, because everywhere else was a static blur. Panic was dormant inside his chest. It threatened to rise every time the reality of where he was pressed down on him. The worst of his memories were inside this corridor. He could count the tiles under his feet by where each nightmare took place. Sometimes it was a longer corridor. Sometimes it was a shorter corridor. But it was always this corridor, and if he looked up and saw blood on the walls, something important would break inside of him.

Being broken was a terrible feeling.

“What about you?” Sonic prompted, nudging his shoulder. Scenting his distress like a goddamn golden retriever. He didn’t belong here. Good things didn’t belong in this place. Good things turned into blood splatter in this place.

“I,” he hesitated, having to think for a moment. What about after? There would be an after. “I suppose I have to find a submarine sandwich for the Commander, before tomorrow.” It felt strange, remembering he had a life outside of this corridor.

“Mm,” Sonic said wistfully. “You can’t go wrong with a meatball sub. Ooh, or an Italian. Italian’s a classic.”

“I’ll take that under advisement,” Shadow said quietly. 

There were Chaos Emeralds ahead. He honed his focus on them. Them. There were two. Even better. Their energy sang to him, quiet hums. The air was thick with fear and uncertainty. That kind of negative energy had an impact on the emeralds. His ear twitched. He felt the footsteps before he heard them.

A lot of them.

He pulled Sonic into one of the adjoining corridors.

“Hey, what—” Shadow slapped his hand over his mouth. The footsteps became audible. Sonic widened his eyes. Shadow let go of him, deeming him thus informed that they weren’t alone, anymore. They should’ve been. No-one was supposed to come this way. Almost no-one was supposed to come this way.

It was too early.

Please.

(please don’t be—)

He laid his back flat to the wall and peered around the corner. The barrel of his chest moved in fast, heavy pants. Stress. It was stress, strangling him by the throat with an iron fist, because those footsteps were—

A black and red hedgehog rushed past their hiding place, pulling along a young girl.

The way it always was, in this corridor.

Like part of a script.

There was nothing staged about their fear. How they ran as fast as their legs would take them. How the girl was almost translucent under the fluorescents, in the way of people who were very sick.

We can hide here and use the emeralds when everyone leaves the evacuation room, the most desensitised and callous part of him thought first, and immediately regretted thinking so. He hated that he was thinking of it. He hated that it was the first thing that came to his mind. Years of infiltration training kicked into effect.

He knew this story. It was written on his scars.

Chaos, they’re so young, Shadow thought second. 

No training he could lay the blame on. It was from the part of him that came alive in the quietest hours, that traced hard-won bruises reverently, that wilted when he got the answer wrong to the Commander’s questions. The part that had no business waking up now, but—

He drew back. His head thudded against the wall.

“They’re just children.” He didn’t recognise that stricken, lamenting voice. He didn’t even realise it came from his mouth. Something like grief twisted up in his chest. He never realised. He never realised how young they’d both been. In his head, in his memories, in his nightmares, they were older.

(how could someone see something so small and helpless, and still decide to hurt them?)

Out of the corner of his eye, Sonic’s hand hovered over his shoulder. Ultimately, he decided not to do something that might cross his boundaries. Shadow dragged his hand over his face. It changed nothing. He was still here when he opened his eyes. Hell was lined with glaring fluorescent lights and well-maintained spaceship tiles.

The noise it made was booted footsteps, and the demons were wearing outdated G.U.N. uniforms. Present date, for them. Militaristic. Heavily armoured. Antiquated weapons. Machine guns. Assault rifles. The old insignia. They collected in the hall like a grouping of insects, preparing to storm the evacuation room. Shadow turned away.

“Psst,” went Sonic. Shadow didn’t respond. Sonic nudged him. “Hey, Shadow. Shadow. Listen.” He peeked through his fingers. His eyes felt heavy. He wanted to shut them, shut everything, until it was over. “We can take them,” Sonic said, because he was insane.

“We can’t,” Shadow said, and stopped there. His throat was dry, his voice came out scratchy. He licked his lips. It didn’t help. “Too strong.” Retaliation felt impossible then, and it felt impossible now. They were severely outnumbered and the soldiers were strong. Sonic gave him an affronted look.

“Too strong?” he repeated, a little bit too loudly. Shadow surged forward to shut him up. Sonic planted a hand over his chest with enough momentum to stop him, gentler than he needed to be. “You think they’re stronger than you, Shadow? No, wait. They’re stronger than me? Are you kidding me?”

“This isn’t a jo—”

“I’m not laughing.” Sonic stared at him in a way that sent colder adrenaline shivering under his skin. He was serious. Shadow didn’t think he’d ever seen him look this serious. He didn’t know Sonic could look this serious. That was the grim face of someone who had seen too much, who knew how cruel the world could be, and still fighting for it anyway.

Shadow saw that expression haunting the mirror, sometimes.

“You can’t change this,” he said weakly. “You have no idea how much I want to. It’s not possible.”

“I know sitting back and doing nothing is gonna kill you,” said Sonic. “Just like it’s killing me.”

“Changing this timeline could—”

“Shadow.”

“What?”

Warm hands curled on his shoulders. Green eyes looking deeply in his, searching.

“It’s not the same,” he said, and it was sharper than any knife. “It’s not the same because you’re not the same hedgehog, and you’re not doing it alone.” His eyes blazed. “I don’t care if I’m not supposed to intervene. If I can save people, I’m gonna save them. With or without ya, but I think we both know you’re on the same wavelength.”

“They killed people,” Shadow said, some desperate attempt to impart upon Sonic the danger, the threat, the horror, as if any of those things could change Sonic’s mind once he made it up. “You don’t understand. They killed so many people. It’s not like your— what you’re used to. If you let your guard down, you will die.”

Sonic’s smile curled into a wry, bitter thing. It looked out of place on his face. It looked like it was right at home. Both of those things, simultaneously, because things like common sense were guidelines to be ignored for him.

“Shadow, I led revolutions against stuff like this before I was a teenager.” Shadow searched for the lie in his smile, his voice, his eyes, and found it lacking. Sonic squeezed his shoulders. “Ask anyone who knows me. The reason I don’t lead a resistance anymore is because we won; they all disbanded.” His fingers dug into his shoulder blades. The darkness in his eyes revealed more than the light ever could. Shadow could see the red glint of his own in the black of his pupils. “People got hurt. People died.”

Shadow sifted through the fragments of his thoughts. Time was passing with a slow, syrupy quality to it. The seconds stretched too long. Every second he was here, was a second closer to the final gunshot. There was a ticking clock somewhere in his head that knew, intimately, how to count down. His heart was rabbiting in his chest and he could no longer ignore it, dismiss it as sorrow or sentiment or something equally as taxing and weary. It was thick and black, like gunpowder. It felt like a flame coming alight in his chest, and this damn blue hedgehog was holding the struck match. Was the rage caused by pain? Or was the pain caused by the rage? With the edges so blurred and himself already displaced so far out of his own reality, did it matter?

“Why are you telling me this?” he asked, before he could think, and it sounded like, give me a reason. It sounded like begging. Give me one reason. Because he was too damaged, too weak, to break the hold of this place on his own. Make that separation between helpless nightmare and stark, crystal-edge reality. But that was it, wasn’t it?

He wasn’t alone.

Sonic’s hand left him. He mourned the loss in an irrational way. “You said these guys killed people, but right now, that’s not true. They haven’t killed anyone yet. And if we take ‘em on, the two of us? Good chance nobody will.”

Hesitation. It was in Shadow’s nature to be wary of offers that sounded too good to be true. That ignited him like this, tripped off every ounce of fury and justice down to his bones. He was easy to manipulate. Had been, once. He knew he was powerful. He knew moving to a different timeline didn’t change the core of who he was, what he’d accomplished. He was just as strong as he’d been last week, and the week before that.

(I determine my own destiny)

Knew it, but Sonic made him believe it.

Chaos licked a path through his arms like fire in his veins, electricity through wires. He’d already tapped into those reserves today, but what kind of Ultimate Lifeform would he be if he couldn’t do it as many times as it took? Shadow made another futile attempt to lick his lips. Still dry. Still hoarse-voiced. Something else must’ve changed. Sonic was looking at him with triumph.

Shadow held the look.

He couldn’t find words. Nothing that could encapsulate this in a way worth the seconds it would take. Nothing that could convey the depth of this mixture of grief and longing and disbelief and want.

“Fuck the timeline,” he said, for himself, for Sonic, for the people in his memories who couldn’t be saved. The past was the past. This wasn’t the past. His past. This was the present. Someone else’s present. Someone who wasn’t him, and did not have to become him.

The sombre look faded and a grin blossomed in its place.

“Fuck the timeline.” Sonic nodded.

He’d stepped into a perfect recreation of his worst nightmares with everything he ever wished he’d had, on that day. He wasn’t the hedgehog who’d gone running past them. He couldn’t be, any more. He’d outgrown him. He hadn’t realised how much he’d outgrown him, not until he looked at that version of it and instead of seeing his past, instead of seeing Maria and a weak hedgehog who couldn’t save his only friend (his sister) he saw a pair of helpless, terrified children being chased by people with the worst intentions, and battle calm blanketed him like a silent tsunami. The way it would any other day. Any other way. All it took was a nudge from Sonic. A reminder that he was not his past. A balm to soothe his grief, a candle to light the dark, and let him see his surroundings again.

“Protect them and secure the Chaos Emeralds.” With those words, he stopped being just Shadow and reclaimed his mantle as the deadliest agent at G.U.N.’s disposal. The Ultimate Weapon, and well-deserving of the title. Nightmares, he never got the hang of. But missions, he knew well. He was good at those. The record on his file would say he was the best of them, if they kept score of such petty things.

Sonic claimed he had the skill of a resistance leader. Time for him to prove it.

“Count on it,” Sonic promised, and the spark in his eye was something sharp and mirthful. The look of someone who could put down a rabid machine god and keep up an insufferable stream of banter while doing it.

Shadow counted on it. “I’ll neutralise the threat in the evacuation room. We’ll reassess from there.” He hesitated, for the time it took for a flicker of trepidation to creep across his steadfast headspace. “Stop me from killing anyone,” he added, quieter, and under any other circumstance, he wouldn’t admit to such weakness unless it was tortured out of him. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to stop myself.”

Under any other circumstance, he wouldn’t be vulnerable to such weakness.

“You will,” said Sonic, like it was already fact. “If you’re asking me, then I already know you’ve got this under control. But if it makes you feel better, then yeah. I got your back, Shadow.” A little more cheerfulness in that smile, those eyes. “Concussions are still totally on the table, right?”

“If necessary.” Science aside, most of the ARK was just a glorified hospital. There was no injury they couldn’t tend, for as long as its doctors walked around without bullets in them. It was a morbid line of thought, but important.

 A trail of bodies would still be a massacre.

Dead men couldn’t testify against their corrupt superiors.

Unless Commander Tower was going to step in with his annoying-but-peaceable reforms – Chaos, his superior was running around somewhere on the colony as a scared little boy – over fifty years early, then he needed the soldiers alive and accountable.

He hated himself a little less for being so cold-heartedly calculating. These were good plans. Plans where people didn’t have to die. The fierce bloodlust he could attribute to the Black Arms whispered that they should die. They hadn’t killed anyone yet, but he had irrefutable proof they would, and wasn’t that enough cause? Wasn’t that enough pain to justify anything? He had every right to rend them limb from limb, and it would never be enough to atone for what they took from him.

Like blowing up the moon? Shadow asked it dryly, because those thoughts were well-worn, well-travelled paths, and did not have any sway over his decisions. Not anymore.

It was somewhat of a comfort, to hear that call for blood and still feel so grounded in his own convictions. He shared their blood, but he was no Black Arms. He proved it when he beat Devil Doom to the ground, and he proved it again when he carried the Black Comet into the path of the Eclipse Cannon, and he threw it in the face of a god’s cunning temptation, and he was doing it again by choosing to have mercy on people who deserved hell, but it still felt so good to live and breathe that truth. He’d searched for it for so long.

“Broken bones?” Sonic hedged, the tension hanging thick like the silence before a lightning strike.

Shadow considered, then gave a small nod. “Acceptable.”

Shadow was not a hero.

He was true to himself, and Shadow’s true self was sadistic and very vindictive, and the thought of breaking bones was an acceptable substitute for snapping necks. That Sonic was the one suggesting it, even more so.

Sonic lacked Shadow’s sadistic streak, but, going by the razor-wire quality to his smile, he had twice as much vindictiveness to compensate. Anyone who knew Sonic would be wise to take one look at that smile and run the other way, because that smile meant trouble was going to happen, and it was going to be loud, and violent, and possibly explosive, and definitely unstoppable as a hurricane.

Shadow had trouble remembering why he considered him an idiot. It would come back to him, surely, the next time Sonic opened his mouth, but for now, he had an ally as strong and reliable as anyone from Team Dark. That surge of confidence was the last push he needed, almost physical in its intensity, like a hand shoving his back, to walk back into the hellish corridor of his own volition, riled with intent to start punching its demons in the face.

His physical existence bled seamlessly into Chaos Control, finding it welcoming and easy to direct. He stepped into the shadows of the evacuation room with a predator’s ease. His gaze flicked over the scene in front of him, some anxious light dimming with relief when he saw that precious little girl, still unhurt. His other self, much the same. A little roughed-up from their escape, from running for their lives. Neither of them were bleeding.

Neither of them saw him. Shadow had stealth down to an art form. There was little reason to stay hidden, but…

He just wanted to see. He knew they should be fine, but he wanted to see. It was the curiosity of looking in a mirror and an old photograph, rolled into one. The last moment before it all went to hell. The kind of memories he’d wished he kept, instead of the ones he had. Some closure, in some other time.

Then, it went to hell.

Predictably, Sonic was not very far behind.

Shadow couldn’t tell how long they’d been running for. It felt like hours, but Maria couldn’t run for hours, so that couldn’t be right. They’d fled the sound of gunshots. Professor Gerald told them to run, to hide, but where could they go that these men from Earth couldn’t follow? The evacuation room was Maria’s idea. This wasn’t how they wanted to leave. Going to the place these invaders had come from seemed dangerous.

And it terrified him, but it was the only place left to run.

He squeezed Maria’s hand tighter. She was so scared. That had to count for something. They were both scared, but that meant neither of them had to be scared alone. He gave her the most reassuring look he could muster, pushing down his own fear, because Maria was the smarts and he was the strength. This was a different kind of strength, but he could manage. If he could take away the exhaustion pushing on her shoulders, the wheezing breath, the way her gait stumbled in pain, he would. Oh, he wished. He’d take all of it and he’d never complain, because his strength was her strength. Her pain was his pain. He’d been born for her, and he’d die for her.

He'd never thought of their bond so intensely, but the violence was painted fresh in his mind. Gunshots, shouts, screams, blood in patterns he’d only seen from films on pilfered cassette tapes that they were not technically supposed to watch, but had anyway, because they were Earth things. But he’d known what was happening in those films, there was plot and characters, and the blood was not real people’s blood. Real people’s blood ran thinner. Splattered more. Like rusty water, but it stained, and he couldn’t get those images out of his mind.

It was new and frightening and he didn’t know what he was supposed to do, how he was supposed to react. The people who’d spilled that blood were looking for him. Hunting him. And so, they were looking for Maria as well. Hunting Maria. Because there was no such thing as one or the other.

So, he squeezed her hand and she squeezed his back, and they escaped the terrifying symphony of violence and bootsteps.

The evacuation room was a kaleidoscope of neon lights and dark corners. The door locked behind them and for the first time since they started running, they were able to stop and breathe. Breathe as much as they could, because Maria looked like she wanted to double over into another hacking coughing fit. She held her throat and wheezed in slow, unsteady breaths. She glared at him like she dared him to say something.

Shadow purposefully closed his mouth and turned to frisk his hands over the controls. He couldn’t reach most of the panels without lifting his heels. Professor Gerald would know how they worked. They could wait here until he came for them, couldn’t they?

He thought of blood running slowly down a wall.

He didn’t like it in the evacuation room. It felt like something was watching them in the dark.

His hands were shaking and the unshed tears in his eyes made his vision blur over. He abandoned the controls and went to Maria. She lifted her arm and let him tuck himself underneath, no need to ask. He crushed a handful of her blouse in his hand, for something to hold onto, because he felt like the floor underneath him was about to give way. Warm fingers scratched into the nape of his neck, fearless of his quills. His breath shuddered out on a half-sob and he twisted to look up at her

“We have to go,” he whispered, plainly.

Her eyes were glazy with the same unshed tears. Her lips twisted into a pained, grim expression, and he suddenly wondered if he’d ever see her smile again. “But, Grandfather…” Her voice cracked, webbed with more tears. “We can’t… I don’t want to leave without him.”

Shadow twisted fully and wrapped her in a hug. She was taller than him, but she always felt so fragile. Like a construct made of origami paper. Oh, that had been fun, hadn’t it? He was going to make her a hundred more origami stars the next time he could. Then she’d smile. “I promised I’d protect you,” he said fiercely. “He’ll understand.”

Her head went slack on his shoulder. A sob was muffled by his fur. Warm, wet tears. “Oh, Shadow…” Another sob, a sniffle, and then her voice was hoarse, but steadier. “I don’t think the door is going to hold them back for very long. Can you help me?”

“Of course,” he said immediately. “What do you need me to do?”

She straightened out of his embrace and wiped the tears out of her eyes. Her nose was red and her cheeks were shiny. Her eyes were glints of blue steel. “Stand on that platform, please.” She must’ve seen the doubt cross his face. Before he could say anything, she insisted, “please, Shadow.”

“I don’t—” I don’t like the way you’re looking at me, Shadow wanted to say. Like you’ll never see me again. He swallowed uneasily, nodded. “Okay,” he muttered hoarsely, and walked towards the platform. He didn’t like the distance between them. It was safer when they were together. But Maria always had a plan. He knew she wasn’t asking him to go for no reason. He stepped onto it and noticed it was marked with the number of an escape pod.

He raised his head to ask her about it. Maria stepped up to the control panel with no fanfare, but the smile on her face was… sad, like the way her eyes glittered. The steel behind them—

A lot of things happened at once.

First and foremost, the door exploded open. That was the only way to describe the sound of impact, of shredding metal, and the sudden lack of door. The sound startled Shadow so much he leaped off the platform without a second thought, diving for Maria. She made a small, shocked sound as they both hit the ground. He had no time to regret scaring her. He grabbed her with desperation and pulled them behind the relative cover of the platform, heart rabbiting in his throat. He curled himself in front of her and hoped his body was as strong as Professor Gerald claimed it was, that he could shield her from whatever horror had just been unleashed into the evacuation room.

And what a horror it was.

Shadow tracked it with his eyes as best he could, which wasn’t very good at all, because it moved fast. Men with guns and military uniforms spilled out into the room, and some of them flopped out on the floor. The thing that was moving – it was a streak of blue light, like a living supernova. It stopped and Shadow’s breath stopped with it, because that was a hedgehog.

The blue hedgehog turned to them and, irrationally, Shadow’s first urge was to shout ‘they’re behind you!’ ahead of everything else, like, ‘how did you get here?’ or ‘how did you do that?’ or even ‘can you teach me how to do that?’ because he was in absolute awe. He’d never seen another hedgehog. He was sure they weren’t supposed to be this fast, or this blue, but this one was, and he’d always been fascinated by things that defied reason.

“You okay?” the blue hedgehog asked. His eyes were a shade of green he’d never seen. He frowned while he spoke, like he was concerned about them and meant it. He quickly looked over Shadow, then he quickly looked over Maria, and there was so much warmth, like he knew who they were and he loved them anyway.

He wasn’t part of whatever was causing this havoc. He couldn’t be. He looked at them the way Professor Gerald did.

“Help us,” Shadow croaked, pressing himself as close to Maria as he could without suffocating her. Her arms were wrapped around him, offering what little protection she could. He didn’t know where this stranger came from. He’d never seen him before in his life. And still— “Please help us,” he begged. “They’re shooting people.”

Those seemed like the right words to say. The blue hedgehog’s gaze hardened in the way of someone who was holding back anger, for the sake of appearances. He’d seen Professor Gerald make that face enough times to recognise it on someone else. “It’s okay,” he said, spreading his hands in a non-threatening way. “C’mon, let’s move.”

His words were coaxing, and he moved fast. As soon as Shadow detangled from Maria, he was there, giving her a shoulder to lean on. She shook badly. The paleness was worse. Shadow slipped under her other arm, gave her another anchor, and the blue hedgehog hurried them further into the evacuation room. He was too scared to look behind them. He focused on the blue hedgehog, because he was so steady, so reassured, and he helped Maria move with gentleness that was impressive to see after he blew that door open.

“Stay here, okay?” He eased Maria down and Shadow slid to the floor with her. They were at the back of the room, where the main console sat, half-concealed behind backlit escape pods. Maria turned her head and stifled a rattling cough that sounded painful.

“Thank you,” she rasped.

“Where are you going?” Shadow demanded, because the blue hedgehog straightened up and it was not safe, he needed to get down. “They’ll find you. You need to hide.” He could hear them, spreading out through the room, more on-guard than ever. Their caution would buy them time, but they were not safe. “The escape pods—”

And the blue hedgehog smirked in a way that was both cocky and handsome. “Nah. Don’t even worry about it.” He strolled to the central console and considered the top panel. They were powered by those crystals – emeralds? Professor Gerald took them out for Shadow to train with, sometimes, though he still didn’t understand what he was supposed to be doing with them. But this hedgehog looked at them like he knew exactly what he should be doing with them.

He broke the protective glass with a sharp punch that made Shadow and Maria flinch.

Uncertain, Shadow glanced at Maria. Should I be stopping him?

She glanced back at him with a slow blink. Wait. Let’s see where this goes.

Professor Gerald said the emeralds should never fall into the wrong hands. This blue hedgehog seemed like a much better set of hands than the alternative, so, maybe this was fine? Their silent communication went unnoticed, which was rather the point of silent communication.

The blue hedgehog pulled out the emeralds, one red and one green. He shifted the red one and tossed it carelessly on his palm. “Yo, catch!” He wound back his arm and threw it into the dark.

Shadow held his breath and tensed, waiting for the sound of something heavy— (very important, you must always be respectful of them, Shadow, they contain more power than you could ever imagine)— hitting the floor.

It never came, which made him flinch for a very different reason.

Something moved in that absolute darkness. His hackles rose. The blue hedgehog cocked his head with that same, warm smile, something soft and fond. Staring at whatever was in the dark that Shadow was too afraid to look at. The air felt charged with something – it was like white static, pressure, tense and unfamiliar. Maria turned her head while Shadow stubbornly buried his face in her hair. She stiffened, something like a gasp flying out of her, and he shut his eyes.

“Shadow,” she whispered, and Shadow perked his ears and lifted his head, but she was not looking at him.

It was enough curiosity to make him turn his head, peek over from their hiding place like she was. The blue hedgehog’s steps shuffled in his peripheral and he vanished into another streak of brilliant light. The uniformed men were closer than he expected to see and it made his blood run cold. Too close to being seen. Before any of them got the chance, the shadows came alive and jumped out at them. Or, something did, like liquid darkness fringed with gold.

There were shouts, and then flashes of gunfire and loud bangs that made Shadow cringe back in fear. When he had the courage to look again, the air tasted like gunpowder and several of the men were on the ground. Shadow watched them twitch and moan, enveloped in a flicker of morbid satisfaction, but mostly relief. Limbs weren’t supposed to bend that way, he didn’t think. They couldn’t get up and keep on chasing him or Maria. As if thinking the same, Maria’s arms coiled tighter around his chest and she huffed something like a sob and a laugh above his head. It crackled with a cough but for once, Shadow was relieved to hear it. Coughing meant she was alive.

He couldn’t shake the eerie feeling that they’d dodged something massive. Something that made him feel very cold inside. Maria surely felt it, too.

Still, whatever was taking down those men was frightening. Not as frightening as what they’d just escaped from, yet, and that was what convinced him to stay put. Maria didn’t seem inclined to hide from it. And, that blue hedgehog didn’t seem afraid. He looked fond. He’d given it one of those emeralds. He was protective like Professor Gerald, and so that counted for something. Shadow took cues from both of them, continued to watch with a frown, tension coiling in his limbs. He’d move if he had to. He’d fight it, if he had to, for whatever good it would do.

He didn’t understand what that blur was, but he already understood it was unstoppable.

Another man hit the floor with a crack and a scream. “Take the shot,” he gasped to someone else, and another man raised another gun. His aim darted everywhere, trying in vain to track their attacker. His frantic search landed on them, completely by chance, and his hand curled on the trigger. Shadow bristled, cold all over, and he didn’t dare move, staring down the barrel. They obviously weren’t that cause, couldn’t he see that?

Didn’t matter. Shadow saw the killing intent, the lift of a steadying breath over the line of the man’s shoulders. He seized Maria, wincing apologetically as she cried out in surprise. All the origami stars, he swore to himself, and twisted their positions, shielding her with his body, covering her face so she wouldn’t see. He glared at the man who was going to shoot him with every ounce of ferocity and defiance he could find, every iota of the monstrous creation he was supposed to be.

Time felt slowed down, his own senses sharper. Adrenaline, maybe. He was about to get shot, after all. He watched the man’s sweat-slick throat bob with a swallow, his fingers darting to the trigger. He hoped, a little dazedly, his blood wouldn’t ruin Maria’s blouse. It was one of her favourites, and so nice to cuddle up to.

Then, another hand shot out of the dark and grabbed the man’s arm and snapped it like a cracker.

The gun clattered to the floor and the owner joined it quickly, cradling his newly-broken arm with something between a scream and a wail. The thing in the dark didn’t disappear this time. Shadow held Maria tighter, gritting his teeth against the sheer amount of malice he could feel radiating off of this thing.

It came nearer. The darkness slid off like a coat as it passed into the light. A pair of red eyes alight in the dark, glowing like hot sparks. Then, the crunch as it stomped on the gun, and it shattered into pieces. Those shoes looked just like his hover skates, older, paint chipping off. No.

They were his hover skates.

Shadow stared down at the soldier who would have killed Maria. A cooling warmth streaked down his cheek. He idly rubbed it with his thumb and verified that it was the man’s blood. The soldier scrambled back on his rear, kicking at the floor. Shadow closed the gap with a single stride and ripped his helmet off, because he needed to see it. The face beneath was that of a young man, blue eyes and buzzed hair, standard military recruit. He looked scared. It was not what he imagined he would find when he dreamt of unmasking the source of his nightmares.

“There’s more of them,” he babbled into the coms, which drew Shadow out of his disbelief. Hm. The coms. Troublesome. “There was only supposed to be one, there’s three of them, we’re overwhelmed, everyone’s down—”

Shadow flicked his own com, clipped around his ear, hidden under his fur. The technology was much better. He could tap into the feed, dial in his own, or, with a long press to both buttons, send out a pulse to jam all signals within a radius of fifteen feet. It was a weak disruptor, but he didn’t need anything better. There was deep irony in sabotaging G.U.N.’s machinations with its own technology. He enjoyed the schadenfreude more than he would ever tell. The soldier repeated himself desperately. The telltale crackle of static, of losing signal, was all that replied.

Kill him, his darkest thoughts whispered. His guard is down. Kill him now.

Shadow excelled at ignoring whispers. Never missing them, no, not with ears like his, but ignoring them. He leaned forward with a growl just to make the soldier squirm, then spun on his heels, turned his back on the biggest temptation he’d felt to do something completely, morally black, since the days Doom’s Eye followed him through the Black Arms invasion with helpful suggestions of violence. Death is too kind for you, he decided, strengthening the weight of his convictions.

He'd fought too many fights to let his guard down, even when it seemed he’d won.

The bullets shot out of the dark and bruised against his thick pelt. They couldn’t do much more. The sheer audacity of it sent incandescent rage igniting across his soul. Then, Chaos ignited across his body. He cloaked himself in its red glow. A Chaos Blast at close range would destroy the evacuation room, perhaps blow a hole in the ARK itself, so he tamped down its power until it could hardly be called one. He threw out his hands and released a shockwave, tightly leashed. The unused energy whipped around his arms like crackles of red electricity, snapping, sharing in his furiousness. The shockwave slapped against escape pods like a tidal wave, bowled over everything that was standing in its way. Glass shards tumbled on the floor.

Only one thing was left standing, and of course, it was Sonic, who had the foresight to duck.

Shadow met his eye. Sonic smiled encouragingly at him. It was disgustingly supportive. Shadow spotted the glimmer of gunmetal behind him. Anger flared hot through him just as fast as Chaos Control did. The floor vanished; he appeared in midair. He threw a roundhouse kick into the visor of Sonic’s would-be attacker and didn’t stop snarling until he heard the soldier hit the ground, unconscious. There were scorches on the visor, hissing and bubbling. He hadn’t put any thought behind igniting the jets on his hover skates. Still, he wasn’t sorry to have done it.

“I told you to be careful,” he quietly seethed, glaring at Sonic. Sonic seemed to understand the aggression in that look wasn’t meant for him; it wasn’t. “I told you.”

Sonic raised his hands pacifyingly. “I would’ve dodged,” he pointed out. The seriousness in his tone saved him from invoking any more of Shadow’s wrath. “Was that all of them?”

Shadow accepted his transparent attempt to change the topic. The alternative didn’t bear thinking about. The image of Sonic lying on the ground in a pool of his own— no, stop. “If you didn’t get the attention of everyone on the ship when you broke down the door, the alarm they raised should finish the job,” he reported gruffly.

Movement in his peripheral. He paid it the barest amount of attention needed to verify what it was, and then he put all his effort into avoiding it. Mar— this timeline’s Maria and himself. The children. They came from the shadows, now that everything was so quiet and still. He’d silenced all the threats. He hadn’t killed anyone. He’d fulfilled his mission with ambush tactics and brute force.

He was still a little shocked at how easily he’d won.

There was still some cleaning up to do. The evacuation room was clear, but the ARK was still overrun with enemy forces. Enemy forces that, if this first encounter was to set a precedent, would be easy to subdue. Shadow allowed himself to take a breather, to assess his own state, to check over Sonic with a critical gaze. Uninjured. His heart was racing with adrenaline. Expected. Sonic’s quills were scruffy from their crawl through the vents. Unimportant. His eyes were alive and shining with curiosity as he glanced back and forth from Shadow to the timeline’s alternate counterpart. Shadow narrowed his eyes at him. Troublesome.

He sensed it coming like a breeze before a storm. “Woah,” said Sonic, tilting his entire centre of balance as he judged the small hedgehog that Shadow staunchly Refused To Acknowledge. “You’re so little.” He hovered his hand over the other’s head, gauging the difference. “You’re the same height as Tails.”

He sounded delighted about it.

Shadow accidentally caught his counterpart’s eye. Not that it mattered, because the hedgehog was staring up at Sonic with something horribly like admiration, or amazement. Ears twitching violently, Shadow pointedly turned his head the other way. Crossed his arms tighter. Exuded that aura of cold formidability that was so successful at making him unapproachable, at keeping others at a distance like a physical barrier between him and the rest of the world. It worked on everything except nosy bats and fearless robots and blue hedgehogs.

And…

“You’ve grown so much,” Maria murmured.

Shadow froze at the shoulders; in a way he never did. When she stepped into his sight, it wasn’t the achingly familiar face, the blonde hair, the blue eyes, any of the usual suspects. It was, as ridiculous as it sounded, the smell of baby cologne. Mild and flowery, to mask the scent of medicine-sweat-sickness. It washed over him, a powerful memory.

He used to love that smell.

It meant warmth-safety-good to him, once.

He’d forgotten it, somehow. He didn’t have a time-eating god to blame for that. Just the erosion of time and tampered memories.

Maria cupped his face in her hands. Shadow didn’t have to look up to meet her eyes. They were the same height. It was somehow the thing that struck him as the strangest. Their height. He was aware that he’d grown, but it seemed natural that she would always be a head taller than him. Maria gazed at him like she could divine every dark secret in his mind, and they were toppling over each-other for a turn in the spotlight. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to shy away from being so seen, or beg this ghost for her forgiveness.

Shadow gazed back and saw sorrow and stars in blue moons. How did she know?

“I have,” he agreed thickly.