This is the first chapter of my take on life on the ARK. Since the actual events are unclear, I've taken several liberties with things like timing, appearances, and overall characterization. Forgive me? Hope so! All will be explained, and I hope you enjoy! (While the happiness lasts, at least. We all know how it ends…D:)

Personal Log of Prof. Gerald Robotnik, entry #848, 2300 hours:

I don't understand.

Shadow is perfect. I know it! I've reworked every theory from its genesis, and all the math checks out. All of it. Everything! No errors were made in his creation- so why isn't he as Black Doom predicted?

Shadow isn't an ordinary hedgehog, yet my assistants reckon I've lost my mind, declaring him to be the ultimate life form. But they don't know about him, and the bargain I made. Black Doom assured me he would be fast, strong, and extremely intelligent. He is none of these. He is barely a pet.

The use of Mobian test subjects or DNA is strictly forbidden, so Shadow was built from scratch and is therefore completely artificial. In comparison to the anthropomorphic hedgehogs of Mobius, Shadow is smaller, weaker, less adept at bipedal movement, and almost incapable of speech, despite Doom's promises of greatness. Again, I am confident this is not a result of human error.

But his health is remarkable. That is one redeemable quality. He ages, but at a consistent rate. He is only a month old, so this may change, but for now, I let Maria take care of him. It is only fair. If all goes well, Shadow will soon care for her instead...

"Should we save some for Shadow?"

A small black-and-grey hedgehog awoke with a start at that last word. He was lying on his stomach with his tail in the air, listening. He knew from experience that "shadow" meant food or hugs or (ugh) baths, or something important like that.

"No, Maria, this is people food. Shadow doesn't eat people food."

"Well why not?"

Shadow yawned, flashing his white teeth and small raspberry tongue, stretched, and sat up on the rickety white hospital gurney. "Shadow" again. Something really important must be going on. It could be worth investigating…

"It isn't good for him. Like his food isn't good for you."

"But Shadow loves pancakes!"

"Maria," the man said in a warning tone, "Have you been feeding him people food?"

Shadow blinked his silver eyes twice. "Maria"... he knew that one...

"No-o..." Maria said carefully. "But I know he would like them, if you let him try..."

With a crinkle from plastic bed sheets, Shadow hopped off the gurney onto the soft pink pads of his feet, driven to investigate by the strange feeling that he was being talked about. He started down the cool tile of the interior hallway on his hind feet, but almost immediately stooped over to use his front paw to help move him forward. It was much faster that way. Plus the air was beginning to fill with a breakfast-y, delicious smell.

"Grandfather?"

"Yes, Maria?"

"I like it when you cook for me."

There was a brief pause. "I would do it more, if I wasn't so busy..."

The warm bread-like aroma grew stronger as Shadow scurried down the hall, passing bright rooms full of smelly scientists and dodging around gurneys similar to the one he had taken his nap on. He liked napping in places where he didn't belong, because when he did, Maria would talk to him and hold him and stroke his quills and tell him what an awfully bad boy he was. That food-scent got stronger and stronger until- Wait! He had passed it!

Shadow tried to stop, scrabbling at the slick ground with his paws, but it wasn't enough.

CLAN-N-NG!

There was a shocked silence, and then Maria's voice exclaimed, "Oh, Grandfather, did you hear that?"

Shadow blinked his eyes confusedly. He hurt all over, and two blurry, upside-down figures were approaching him...

"Oh, Grandfather!" came the girl's surprised giggle. "Shadow crashed into a gurney again!"

As the hedgehog blinked several more times, a large, meaty face came into focus right in front of his nose, causing him to squeak in surprise. "So he has. Silly Shadow…"

Shadow, recognizing the mustache of Prof. Gerald Robotnik, snuffled and grabbed at his fleshy pink nose, his traditional greeting. The professor, recognizing the danger his face was in, withdrew just in time for Shadow's stubby fingers to sail by. Maria kneeled in her short white dress to pick up the hedgehog, who was lying comically on his back, wide-eyed with his arms on the ground above his head and his feet on the metal bars of the gurney's base.

"Hello Shadow!" she cooed, lifting him above her head. "Do you want some pancakes?"

Shadow kicked the air urgently, trying to get back on solid ground. No flying for him, thanks. Maria, mistaking his desperation for eagerness, giggled and squashed him to her chest. He immediately wrapped his arms around her neck any buried his face under her chin. Warm and dark- much better.

"He likes me," Maria declared, beaming at her grandfather.

"He's not a baby, Maria," Prof. Gerald said uncomfortably. Let's not let her get too attached. If he was anything like his "father", he could be dangerous further down the line.

"He's not a human baby, but he's my baby," Maria countered. She marched around the aging doctor into the kitchen, the young hedgehog's legs swinging comically at her knees. She was very strong for a girl of eight. The professor sighed. So deceptively effervescent for a girl so sick…

"Maria, what did I say about feeding him people food?" Prof. Gerald groaned, spotting his granddaughter trying to juggle a pancake platter and a clinging hedgehog from the doorway.

"Not to," she responded knowledgeably.

In two easy strides Prof. Gerald crossed the threshold and pulled a bag of cat food out of a cupboard and stood it up next to a shiny metal bowl. He stood, took the pancakes from Maria, set them on the counter and said, "Now are you going to feed him or shall I?"

"I will, I will!" she said in a singsong voice, Shadow sliding off her shoulders and onto the floor. She dug a plastic yellow scoop out of the pellet food and gravely held up a full cup, making sure the measurement was exactly right. Then she plunked the food in the bowl from several feet in the air, effectively scattering it all over the floor.

"Very good, Maria," Prof. Gerald sighed, not having the heart to reprimand her anymore. He turned to get a broom and dustpan from the corner.

"Heeeeeeere Shadow-shadow-shadow!" the eight-year-old called happily.

"He's not a pet, Maria," her grandfather called over his shoulder.

"What is he then?"

Prof. Gerald looked over at his innocent granddaughter and the hedgehog that was currently stuffing his face with cat food. A failure. "An experiment."

Maria scooped Shadow up from the food bowl, squeezing him 'til his silver eyes bugged out. "No he's not. He's family."