Chapter Text
“Before we begin, I want to make it perfectly clear that if it weren’t for your… specific experience, talents, and… connections, we would never have involved you in this,” the man in the clean-pressed suit said, stepping into the dimly lit interrogation room like he owned the place—which, in his mind, he did. The fluorescent lights flickered faintly overhead, casting harsh shadows across the sterile metal table, giving the room the exact vibe of a low-budget spy thriller, only smellier.
“I’m flattered,” the maniac—seated calmly on the other side of the table—replied, his voice dripping with mock humility.
“Robotnik, this is—”
“Ah! That’s Dr. Robotnik,” he interrupted, snapping his fingers with a grin so smug it practically demanded someone punch him. “Not just any Robotnik. Dr. Robotnik. Genius, innovator, unparalleled mind of the modern era. You’re welcome.”
The agent beside him could feel his own blood pressure rising. He removed his glasses, pinched the bridge of his nose, and let out a long, low sigh. Time to do the thing no one ever enjoys: dealing with someone whose ego was several sizes too big for the planet.
“Dr. Robotnik… this is no matter to be taken lightly,” he said, trying to keep his voice steady and serious, before sitting down across from Robotnik with all the calm of a man trying not to lose a limb. “We need your expertise.”
“Oh, perhaps I would take you seriously, if only you had the decency to explain why I am here!” Robotnik barked, his hands gesturing wildly like he was orchestrating an imaginary symphony. “Every second I spend speaking to… you simpletons… is a personal insult to my intellect! Do you have any idea how valuable my time is?”
At first, he had been intrigued—maybe even impressed—that G.U.N. had managed to track down his “super-duper-top-secret-hideout” and convince him to appear for a “top-secret mission.” But now, sitting in a cold, gray room that smelled faintly of mildew and fear, his interest was waning fast. And boredom, Robotnik had discovered long ago, was the only thing capable of truly enraging a man of his caliber.
“We need your help in hunting down and detaining a certain alien,” the agent to his right said, ignoring the rant entirely.
“The blue menace?!” Robotnik shot up, slamming his fists on the metal table so hard the echoes bounced off the walls like a warning drum. “That three-foot-tall idiot has been the source of years of suffering! I never want to gaze upon that cerulean face again for as long as my mind—my brilliant, extraordinary mind—remains alive! He trapped me on a planet filled with nothing but mushrooms! MUSHROOMS!! All I—”
“Dr. Robotnik, please. Sit down. That is not the alien we are referring to,” the first agent interrupted, gesturing to his partner to hand over a thick file.
Robotnik froze mid-rant. The agent opened the file and tossed a series of photos onto the table. They fluttered slightly, like a warning, before settling into the harsh light. Robotnik leaned in, his brow furrowed, his lips curling into that signature mix of intrigue and barely contained fury.
He recognized the subject immediately.
He found himself staring down at a series of photographs, each one a tribute to his grandfather’s so-called greatest creation. That stupid, infuriating black-and-red hedgehog. Robotnik’s eyes twitched involuntarily as the resemblance between the creature and the blue menace. How he loathed every one of those colorful, idiotic mammals. Their very existence was an insult to genius.
“And tell me,” he said, voice sharp and dripping with venom, “why, pray tell, do you pursue the product of my grandfather’s immense, superior intellect? What makes him so different from those other… colored halfwits?” He straightened his back, planted his hands firmly on the table, and leaned in like a predator circling prey.
“Shadow is… unstable,” the agent began, his tone careful, almost reverent, as if saying the wrong thing could summon a nuclear meltdown. “Unlike Sonic and the others, his power is… more difficult to control, and—”
“Hold on a nanosecond,” Robotnik snapped, cutting him off so fast the agent jumped slightly. “What… power?” The single word was equal parts curiosity and barely contained outrage.
The guard sighed, a slow exhale that said please, don’t do this, clearly hoping Robotnik wouldn’t press further on the hedgehog’s unique abilities. But as anyone who knew him could predict, that reaction only made him lean in closer.
“After the… eclipse incident,” the guard on the left began, voice careful as if walking on a knife’s edge, “we did some digging through your grandfather’s experiments. But instead of finding information about the canon… we found something else. About Shadow.” He pulled a piece of paper from the file and laid it on the table, letting Robotnik’s eyes widen just enough to feed his curiosity.
“Gerald Robotnik created Shadow as the Ultimate Life Form,” the agent continued, as if reading aloud from the very scriptures of genius. “Unlike Sonic, Shadow’s abilities are not… natural. They were engineered, using alien DNA and enhanced with energy from the Master Emerald—what your grandfather referred to as Chaos Energy.”
Robotnik’s eyebrows arched. “Yes, yes, I do not need you to explain reality-altering forces in layman’s terms, thank you very much! Continue with the hedgehog!” He interrupted.
The agent ignored the outburst and let his eyes skim the file, pausing to choose his words carefully. “The main reason Shadow is so dangerous is because he doesn’t just borrow Chaos Energy—he generates it. His body was designed to produce and channel it internally. Professor Gerald Robotnik, your grandfather, engineered him using alien DNA that resonates naturally with Chaos Energy, allowing Shadow to create, store, and circulate it in his own cells. This is why he can use Chaos-based abilities even without holding an Emerald—though, of course, the Emerald greatly amplifies his output.”
Robotnik leaned in, fingers steepled, his grin growing wicked and sharp. This power… this is far more sophisticated… more destructive than that ridiculous blue menace.
The agent pulled out a photo next, holding it up like it might startle the maniac into careful attention. It was one of the golden rings Shadow wore. “These are his inhibitor rings. They contain and regulate his immense power, keeping his Chaos Energy in check and preventing him from… well, tearing himself—or anyone else—apart.”
His eyes gleamed with a mixture of obsession and delight. Finally, a challenge worthy of his genius. A creature capable of producing, controlling, and unleashing reality-warping energy.
“My grandpapa was a genius beyond his years,” Robotnik began, leaning forward so dramatically that the light caught the gleam in his glasses, “and this—this, my dear morons, is his masterpiece.” He tapped the photos of Shadow on the table with a single, perfectly manicured finger. “I’ve spent years chasing that blue annoyance—yes, the one who constantly mocks my genius and turns my elaborate plans into tragicomic failures—and now, how am I to believe it is possible to capture a creature with more power, more brains, and more skill than the blue one?!” He crossed his arms, narrowed his eyes, and tilted his head like a man savoring a particularly delicious insult.
“Because we’ve found a way to contain his powers,” the agent on the right said, ignoring the theatrical performance entirely. He pulled another sheet from the file and carefully laid it on the table. Robotnik’s eyes immediately latched onto the image: a sleek, high-tech glass cylinder suspended between two gleaming platforms.
“This,” the agent continued, “is a containment chamber designed to continuously extract small doses of Chaos Energy from a source. The source being Shadow. As his body generates the energy, the chamber pulls it out, effectively neutralizing his abilities in real time.”
Robotnik paused. He could admire this. If he ever admitted to admiration—which he did not, not for anyone outside his superior bloodline—this would have qualified. His lips curled into a grin somewhere between impressed and dangerously gleeful.
“Well, it appears your organization has everything so meticulously covered,” he said, leaning back in his chair with the slow, exaggerated grace of a man who believed the room itself should bow before him. He crossed one leg over the other, hands steepled in mock contemplation. “So tell me, why, pray tell, have you dragged me from my peaceful, genius-filled hideout to sit in this… dim little interrogation box?”
“While we can contain him,” the agent explained carefully, “we have no way of actually catching him. One of G.U.N.’s main priorities is reputation: the public must view us as protective, heroic, lawful… essentially the good guys. But revealing that we have technology capable of extracting Chaos Energy directly from an alien could… cause questions. Doubts. Fear. So we need someone with your… expertise.”
Robotnik’s eyes glittered with that dangerous mixture of ego and excitement. “I see. And what, may I ask, is in it for me? What possible reward could you offer me for facing those primary-colored pests who have spent years humiliating my intellect and genius?” He leaned forward, jabbing a finger at the agent’s chest like a human exclamation mark.
The agent calmly pushed the finger aside. “We can… make your record clean. You would no longer have to hide. You could walk freely, Dr. Robotnik, unburdened by… minor inconveniences like the law.”
Robotnik’s grin widened, splitting his face with manic delight. “Hmm… I will accept your terms… but with one amendment to our legally binding verbal agreement.”
“And what might that be?” the right-hand agent asked, wary but trying not to flinch at the rising theatrics.
“I will have access to alien quills whenever I please.” He crossed his arms and leaned back, eyes gleaming with obsession. “Those little fragments… such raw power in such small packages. I have always found them… fascinating.”
“Done,” the left agent said, holding out a hand.
Robotnik grasped it with an exaggerated flourish, shaking it like a man sealing not a deal, but the fate of the world. His grin stretched wider, sharp and dangerous, as he imagined all the chaos, ingenuity, and sheer brilliance he was about to unleash.
“Well then,” he said, rising from the chair with a flourish and spinning to face the door, “let’s get started.”
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Sonic couldn’t help but feel a small surge of pride. Nearly five months had passed since the day he had totally not forced Shadow to stay with him after the whole “falling out of the stratosphere” debacle, and in that time, the dark hedgehog had made… progress. Remarkably, Shadow hadn’t tried to attack anyone in three months—granted, that came with the unspoken rule: never, ever, touch the coffee machine before him—and he’d slowly warmed up to the idea of a “new family,” or at least tolerated it without visible scorn.
Shadow seemed particularly taken with Tom and Maddie, especially Maddie. Every Sunday, she’d drag him out for birdwatching—an activity Sonic could barely understand, let alone tolerate—but Shadow seemed to genuinely enjoy it
Speaking of Tails, the fox and Shadow had developed a strange but stable relationship. Shadow had begun to respect Tails’ genius, sometimes even lending a hand with his projects. Sonic was shocked that the normally surly, chaos-energy-fueled hedgehog never once picked a fight with Tails. Clearly, even chaos has its limits.
Then there was Knuckles. Oh, boy. The two of them operated like rival older brothers, each determined to dominate every trivial aspect of life: chores, getting to the car first, even waking up in the morning. Sonic had never understood this obsession, especially when Shadow’s win-loss record was 3842 victories to Knuckles’ 3792—and Knuckles still felt the need to announce every minor triumph as if it were world-shattering news.
And then there was Sonic himself. Sonic assumed they had some sort of a rivalry deal going on, since the two of them were both hedgehogs: every morning brought a race, and every few days, when they had the energy to burn, a full-on sparring session. Sonic usually won the races, but in fights? He rarely came out on top. Shadow’s recovery may have been slow, but his fighting ability had not diminished one bit.
Sonic had to admit, Shadow had been difficult at first. Recovery from his injuries was grueling, and during that time, he’d attempted to escape the house multiple times—clearly underestimating Sonic’s persistence. By the time Shadow had fully healed, though, he had accepted life at the Wachowski household. Sonic figured it helped him cope with the loss of his previous family, though the dark hedgehog would never admit it. Regardless, Sonic was glad to have him there; the household felt more… complete.
Now, Shadow sat beside him on the couch, flanked by Tails and Knuckles, all three of them quietly watching as Tom and Maddie got ready for an overnight trip to celebrate Maddie’s sister’s birthday. The air was thick with anticipation because, for once, the hedgehogs, the fox, and the echidna were home alone—and Sonic, of course, was already planning exactly how much trouble they could get into before they returned.
“You think we’re forgetting anything?” Maddie asked, rifling through her overstuffed suitcase like it was a bottomless pit of chaos and mismatched socks. Her brow furrowed as she pulled out a half-empty bottle of shampoo, and a stray hairbrush.
“We always forget something,” Tom replied calmly, refilling Ozzy’s food dish. “The problem is we never know what until we actually get there.”
Sonic leaned against the counter, ears twitching. “So… what time will you guys be back?” he asked casually, though anyone with half a brain knew exactly what he was thinking: How long do I have to wreck this place before they notice?
“We’ll be back tomorrow night,” Tom said, walking over with measured patience. “But before we leave, there are some ground rules you all need to understand.” He planted himself firmly in the center of the room, gesturing dramatically like a general about to brief troops for battle.
“Alright, rule number one: you all are strictly forbidden from leaving the property line. Got it? There’s nothing out there that condones leaving, and I don’t care if Sonic thinks he can outrun a jetliner or Tails thinks he can fly under the radar. Got it?”
All three nodded. Well… all three technically. Sonic’s eyebrow twitched in a way that suggested he planned to break this rule within five minutes, at the latest.
“Number two,” Tom continued, squaring his shoulders, “Shadow is in charge.”
“WHAT?!” Sonic exploded, jumping up and pointing an accusatory finger at the dark hedgehog. “I’ve been here longer than any of them! Why can’t I be in charge?!”
Shadow leaned back casually, arms crossed, smirking with pride. “Because you’re… you,” he said smoothly, the single word dripping with unspoken judgment.
Tom sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose like a man who had survived far too many of these arguments. “Last time we left you in charge, Sonic, half the house ended up gone. I’m serious. The garage, the mailboxes, the—”
“Don’t remind me!” Sonic groaned, slumping dramatically. “It was a learning experience!”
“Anyway,” Tom cut in, pointing at Shadow, “Shadow’s in charge. Got it, bud? Can you keep Sonic from turning this house into a disaster zone for one night?”
Shadow’s smirk widened. “I can.”
“This is a mission fit for a warrior!” Knuckles interjected, puffing out his chest. “Not a hedgehog who thinks he’s invincible just because he can teleport!”
“Okay, okay, guys, I’m not that destructive,” Sonic protested.
“Alright, alright,” Tom said, holding up both hands, “enough. Let’s move on before you all start a debate that ends in a literal fire. Emergency situations, people. Let’s go over what happens if things… go wrong. Sonic starts a fire—what do you do?” He pointed to Tails. “You first, go!”
“If it’s small, I smother it,” Tails said, standing a little too straight, hands folded behind his back like he was giving a school presentation. “If it’s medium, I put it out with water. And if it’s big…” He paused dramatically, eyes flicking down to the laminated chart he’d clearly made himself. “…I calmly evacuate the house and contact emergency services.”
“Nailed it, buddy!” he said, grinning as he leaned in and slapped Tails a high five. “I like it, minimal property damage, clear minds, and everyone lives.”
“I could have gotten that one,” Knuckles muttered, arms crossed as if personally offended by the concept of fire safety.
Tom turned, already bracing himself. “Okay, big guy. Your turn. Scenario two.” He cleared his throat. “A burglar breaks into the house. What do you do? Go!”
“I break his jaw,” Knuckles declared, stepping forward, fists clenched. “Then I crush his weapons. Then I destroy the enemy until he regrets infiltrating the sacred place of home and flees in shame, telling stories of his defeat for generations.”
Tails slowly raised a finger. “Um. I don’t think burglars usually—”
“—Uh, close,” Tom cut in quickly, holding up both hands. “Very… enthusiastic. Love the passion.” He forced a smile. “But actually, we don’t shatter anyone’s jaw. We call Wade. And we only attack in self-defense.”
Knuckles stared at him. “You summon… the fearsome warrior?”
“Yes,” Tom said. “We summon the fearsome warrior.”
Knuckles’ brow furrowed as he processed this. “…And then?”
“And then the police handle it,” Tom finished.
Knuckles looked disappointed. “This world is full of strange rules.”
“Buddy, you have no idea.” Sonic chimed in.
Knuckles straightened, placing a fist over his chest with solemn resolve. “I will not disappoint the rules of the house again,” he said seriously. “…Even if they are cowardly.”
“Alright, moving on…” Tom said, forcing the tone of a calm, capable adult. “Final scenario. And this one’s important.”
Tom swallowed. “Okay now, Shadow. This is the most important one—and I only say that because it’s what happened that one time we left the house unattended with Sonic.” He pointed at the board. “Robotnik shows up. What do you do?”
Shadow opened his mouth. “I—”
“Kick Eggman’s butt!” Sonic blurted out instantly, throwing his arms into the air like he’d just won a trivia contest.
Shadow’s eyes snapped toward him.
“He asked me, not you, you blue imbecile.”
“Well I got it right, didn’t I?” Sonic shot back, hands on his hips, smug grin fully deployed.
Shadow scoffed. “It was so obvious I would have been shocked if you didn’t.” He paused, then added flatly, “Well. Maybe not that shocked.”
“Rude and unnecessary…” Sonic muttered.
“Okay—nope. Not doing this. We’re not turning the safety drill into another ‘who’s tougher’ debate.” Tom interrupted, trying to get everyone back on track.
Tails raised a cautious hand from the couch. “Is the answer not fighting him at all?”
Tom nodded eagerly. “Yes! Thank you, Tails. Exactly.”
Sonic blinked. “Wait, what?”
Tom sighed. “The correct answer is—you come and get us.”
“…That’s it?” Sonic asked.
“Yes,” Tom said firmly. “You don’t engage. You don’t taunt. You don’t race him around the block. You get us.”
Shadow frowned slightly. “Avoiding the enemy allows him time to prepare further assaults.”
“And fighting him alone gets you captured or blown up,” Tom countered. “We’ve been over this.”
Tails’ ears drooped as he spoke up again. “But what if we can’t reach you? Like—hypothetically—if Sonic is being irresponsible again and loses his rings.” He glanced sideways. “Again.”
“HEY!” Sonic protested. “That happened like—” he paused, counting on his fingers. “…Okay, a few times. But still.”
Knuckles slammed a fist into his palm, completely unfazed.
“Then we strike down the man of the egg,” he declared. “Swiftly. Honorably. With maximum force.”
“No,” Shadow said immediately.
“No?” Knuckles repeated, offended.
“No,” Shadow said again, sharper. “Then we run to them.”
Knuckles frowned. “Run away from the enemy?”
“Yes,” Shadow replied, dead serious. “Because protecting the house is the objective.”
The room erupted at once.
“So we don’t fight him?” Sonic asked.
“We fight him,” Knuckles insisted.
“We don’t fight him,” Tails said.
“We fight him only if necessary,” Shadow corrected.
“Okay, hold on,” Sonic said, spinning in a slow circle. “Let me get this straight. If Eggman shows up, we kick his butt, then we run and get you guys. Right?”
“Okay, no—” Tom started.
“You idiot,” Shadow cut in flatly. “We kick his butt only if we have rings. Then we use them to retrieve Tom and Maddie. If you lose the rings—” he shot Sonic a look, “—we immediately retreat and regroup.”
“Ohhh.” Sonic nodded, enlightened. “Got it. I’m totally clear now.”
Tom stared at them.
All of them.
He lowered himself onto the couch and buried his face in his hands.
“Tails is in charge,” he muttered into his palms.
“What?!” Shadow shouted.
“Hah!” Sonic laughed, pointing.
Tom moved from the living room to the middle of the kitchen, one hand on the counter, the other clutching a glass of water. “I… I don’t think we should go,” he said carefully.
Maddie didn’t even flinch. She was doing her third—or maybe fourth—sweep of the house, eyes darting from the ceiling to the floor like she was a general inspecting her troops. “What? No way, Tom. Rachel’s expecting us. We can leave them here. They’ll be fine.” Her smile was calm, confident—far too calm for the chaos that was, without a doubt, about to explode in the living room.
Tom took a sip of water, trying to steady himself. “Are you sure? I mean… I’m a little worried Knuckles might mistake the pizza guy for a burglar. Or… or a government agent. Or… anyone with a backpack. He says they can’t be trusted.”
Maddie crouched beside him and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Tom. Look, they're growing up. And… we have to trust them. They can handle being on their own for a day. Probably.”
Tom tried to nod, but before he could say anything else, the universe itself decided to remind him of how little control he had.
CRASH!
The sound of shattering porcelain ripped through the house. Both of them whipped their heads toward the living room.
Three out of four of their “boys” were in the middle of a fight that likely had stemmed from something stupid. A vase—definitely not cheap—lay in jagged pieces on the floor, water and flowers forming a sad little puddle.
Tom froze, water halfway to his lips. “I hope you’re right…” he muttered, trying to convince himself as much as Maddie.
“OH!” Maddie jumped, snapping her fingers like she’d just remembered the meaning of life. “I just remembered what I was forgetting!” She bolted to their bedroom like she was on some secret mission.
A few moments later, she returned, brandishing a neatly wrapped gift like a trophy. “Turns out I almost forgot Rachel’s present! Thank goodness I remembered, or she would have killed me. Or, you know… verbally annihilated me.” She stuffed it into her suitcase and zipped it up with a flourish. “Ready?”
Tom let out a long, defeated sigh. “Yep… lemme just go say goodbye to the boys.” He trudged into the living room.
Tom, with the precision of someone who had done this far too many times, grabbed each of them, one by one, and separated them with a practiced calm. “Okay, okay—deep breaths, everyone. No one needs to punch anyone else in the face today. Or—” he paused, eyeing Knuckles, “—throw a lamp.”
Tom threw Maddie a look that said, pray for me.
“Okay,” he began, exhaling slowly. “Some rules. Feel free to ignore me, but I’m going to say them anyway. Sonic, parties, explosions, and karaoke—none of them. Understand?”
“What? Come on! Why no karaoke?” Sonic whined, dramatically throwing his hands into the air.
“Because you get… too intense,” Tom said, voice measured. “Knuckles, no property damage. Please. For once.”
“Only for emergencies?” Knuckles asked, looking genuinely concerned about the possibility of “emergency property destruction.”
“Uh… sure. But only if the emergency requires property damage,” Tom replied, rubbing his temples.
“Shadow,” Tom continued, pointing at the dark hedgehog, “no chaos energy in the house. Last time you did that, the microwave exploded.” He gestured toward the counter, where a dark stain lingered behind a framed photo—like a scar from a battle that should never have happened in a suburban kitchen.
“Outside?” Shadow asked.
“With reasonable distance from the house, yes,” Tom said firmly.
“And Tails…” He turned to the smallest fox, frowning, trying desperately to think of anything he needed to restrict him from doing. But Tails was… Tails. Mostly harmless.
“Ah… just focus on making sure the others don’t destroy the house, okay?” Tom said, grabbing his suitcase.
“Got it! I promise the house will still be here when you get back!” Tails called cheerfully, waving bye.
Sonic pulled out his rings and made an exaggerated show of displaying them. He tossed one toward Tom and Maddie with a flourish. “See? Not lost! Not this time. Everything’s under control. Probably.”
“Okay, bye guys,” Sonic said, grinning, “and hey! Don’t have too much fun, you crazy kids!” He shoved them both into the ring, waving bye as they stepped through, then closed it.
Sonic then put the ring back in the bag and dusted off his hands.
“So… karaoke?”