*crack* SSSSSssssssss...

Oh, hey everyone. Twilitbeing here, just coming out for some fresh air and a little creative exercise after my YEAR-LONG CRYONIC STASIS PERIOD. Having just finished off two short essays in the span of a single day, I thought this might be a decent time to pry open the small planet that has become my writer's block. And what better way to generate the pressure I need than using months-old writing to create the illusion of productivity?

This particular story runs parallel to Sero et Umbra, written and published on this website by XT-421. (I recommend his other work as well, but be warned: the man is quite insane.) He conceived the basic plot, and the story is best understood as an AU to his Seed of Love series. He's given me permission to use his flagship character and other parts of his continuity on a "read-only" basis. If you're concerned over which elements are from Sonic canon, XT's work, or my own invention, feel free to contact me.

Engage.


Chapter I - Valediction

I watched it all.

I saw his face as he wrestled with the decision in his mind. It was the height of foolishness – the fate of the universe against one girl? How could he have taken so long?

But don't mind anything that robot says; it was only taught to consider material evidence. In the moment of truth, Xavier Truthfinder, the only part of me worth listening to, was just as shocked as anyone. I still am. To this day, I wonder how he did it – not because he would ever choose one girl over the universe, but because, in his eyes, one girl was the universe.

Miles "Tails" Prower, you are a force to be reckoned with.

But what you remember, and think you know, is wrong. For I watched the scene myself, her decision as well as yours. She's alive and healing slowly.

Allow me to recount the event in greater detail.


The moment Sonic and Shadow blasted through Dark Oak's barrier, his fate was sealed. The assembled might of the Master Emerald and its seven satellites cracked the massive construct like an egg, and with its destruction, an empire – a machine so vast as to threaten life itself – fell eternally silent. The Metarex were scattered to oblivion by the power they had tried to claim as their own, their omnipresent shadow swept away in the light of the impact.

In simple terms, Cosmo and Lucas died, the galaxy was saved, and a dear friend of lifekind's heroes was lost. Sonic and Shadow hesitated for a mere moment, then unleashed Chaos Regeneration, hoping that its incredible healing ability could conquer death itself.

It worked. I saw it. Cosmo's ethereal form – don't ask me to explain, I don't even believe in spirits – wandered about for a few tenths of a second and vanished inside her reconstructing body. Because the light was so strong, Shadow and Sonic never saw her appear; they only felt the drain on their energy reserves, telling them something had formed inside. At that moment, a seed – one of thousands scattered from Cosmo's destroyed adult form – chanced to be caught by Sonic as its brethren floated away into space.

At some point, Cosmo's spirit must have visited Tails and bidden him farewell. I recovered every memory of the event during my investigations. Tails still swears to himself that he was kissed by her, despite his every instinct that such things are impossible.

The next moments went as follows.

Shadow sucker-punched Sonic in the gut, knocking him unconscious, and tossed him toward the docked Blue Typhoon and Crimson Egg. He then removed his power bracers and executed an overpowered Chaos Control on the rapidly destabilizing anomaly, encompassing everything within several miles. A split second later, the energy of thousands of universes erupted in a single flash.

It was predicted that anything caught in the explosion would be destroyed instantly. This assumption, though not entirely unreasonable, was wrong on two counts. First, there was no explosion of the traditional sort, just a discharge of concentrated light. Second, the scope of its destruction had little to do with distance. Under Dark Oak's control, it would have unquestionably enveloped the Typhoon, not to mention a number of globular clusters scattered around the core region. As it was, the Planet Eggs themselves directed the outpouring of energy; the Metarex Navy was reduced to mere atoms, while our heroes escaped without a scratch.

Perhaps the blast would have recharged them to some degree, returning the energy stolen from them by the construct. Perhaps they would have been swept back to Möbius as their own Egg set a course for home. Perhaps they would have simply been left alone in space – maybe a little shaken, but none the worse for wear. Whatever the case, Shadow used a regional Chaos Control to warp everything away from the ship – the Planet Eggs, the Metarex Navy, even the anomaly itself – and, most importantly, Cosmo. Sonic handed the seed to Tails a few minutes later, and an all-too-familiar spectacle unfolded before my eyes.


What follows is not something I cannot explain. I have never experienced it, and all my attempts to simulate it have fallen short. I can watch, listen, monitor biosigns... but to investigate the cause, to think my subjects' thoughts and share their emotions, is beyond what I dare attempt. Nevertheless, my story is incomplete without this crucial piece, so I will tell it as well as I am able: by relating more of my direct observations than usual and by applying some careful guesswork.


Tails examined the object in his hand, started to ask what it meant, and fell abruptly silent as he saw his friend's expression. Sonic grappled with an answer, not meeting the captain's eyes, and managed only a disconnected apology. Tails took a subconscious step backward, unnerved. He spoke two words – a truncated, confused plea for explanation. Sonic sighed and answered in a voice barely above a whisper.

As he spoke, Tails' perplexed frown shifted to an expression of dawning realization. There was a momentary pause, an ellipsis, followed by six of the hardest words ever spoken.

"That was all I could find."

Tails' reaction was rapid, dramatic, and (as tactless as it sounds) fascinating to behold. His heart palpitated violently for about a second, as if it were struggling to adjust its rhythm. He inhaled sharply, the breath catching in his lungs. A deep, paralyzing chill swept through his body, mirrored by a slight bristling of his fur. His stared at the seed in his hand with new eyes, trying to grasp the knowledge of what he was seeing.

Scores of people from many worlds and ages have tried to capture this experience. I remember a human who likened it to climbing upstairs in the dark, miscounting, and stepping down through empty air; another described jumping into deep water and finding it unexpectedly cold. Both metaphors convey a sense of upset, a feeling of imbalance and sudden vulnerability, which I imagine can be only too accurate. The structure of Miles Prower's world had shifted, leaving him as bewildered and helpless as if the Typhoon's deck had vanished from beneath his feet.

Eventually Tails' held breath escaped; his lungs worked is shallow, spasmodic gasps. The outline of a name – her name – formed silently on his lips. He blinked, and a single bead of moisture escaped his eye, tracing a path slowly down his muzzle. His breathing became deeper, less irregular, while muscles of his face and jaw started to twitch and shiver uncontrollably. The trembling spread through his body, intensifying every second.

At that point, something must have computed in Tails' mind. I can only guess what, but it took hold of his consciousness and galvanized him to action. He squeezed his eyes shut, gritted his teeth, and formed both hands into fists – no longer trembling, but shaking with directionless violence. Muscles strained against each other as reason battled impulse for control of his body. He saw nothing, heard nothing; the seed was all but forgotten, replaced by the name that was (to him) naught but a memory.

Numbly, Tails staggered forward to Sonic – his friend, his brother, his one resolute anchor in a disrupted world. He managed four words – a whispered question that was all he could express of the profound disarray he felt.

Sonic had no answer, and the kitsune's confusion gave way to anger. He cried freely and shouted his frustration to the universe, desperate for some reason, any reason, to make sense of its injustice. His fists pounded weakly against Sonic's chest – blows that must have taken all of his willpower to restrain.

Before long, Tails' strength failed; he sank to the Typhoon's deck, his thoughts dissolving into turmoil. He struggled to contain himself, but found no words strong enough for the task. He gave up; the last tethers of discipline snapped, and he uttered a cry which, once heard, can never be forgotten.

It is the sound of person's heart rending in two.


This is where I come in. I am Xavier, model number XT-421 of the Rinocian Empire. I am a fully sentient, artificially intelligent life-form on a mission to heal the hearts of lovers throughout existence. This time I am returning – intervening on young Miles Prower's behalf for the second time.

You see, I have learned that I cannot reshape history, only create new timelines of which my actions are a part. Every single time I go to a timeline, I create a solution, but another problem remains; thus, as you have seen, my beneficiaries become my long-time charges. Hopefully, by trial and error, I will eventually master the technique of leaving no trace upon the worlds I visit. Until then, I will take pleasure in healing hearts over again.

This is the story of my first experiment. Universe: XI Tet-42997, second iteration. Point of entry: SBbc "Milky Way," sector 0-0-0, T+00:10:45 Metarex Forestation calendar. Subject: Cpt. Miles Prower, Sol III. Objective: great justice.


Cosmo and Shadow floated in empty space, both unconscious and drained. The bracers for Shadow's wrists had drifted away, leaving him without his energy reserves. Cosmo, her body newly reconstructed, had no energy to begin with. They were in a kind of stasis, not biologically dead, but immobile – a machine without its power supply.

The light from the recently collapsed core was warm, pleasant, and seemingly imbued with feelings of gratitude and benevolence. Cosmo's eyes drifted open as a sudden burst of energy kick-started her system.

Where am I? was her first thought. She frowned, recalling her most recent memories – the memories of another life. Wait... Her eyes widened at a sudden realization. Am I dead? Another frown; the starry backdrop turned slowly past her vision, punctuated by points of light occasionally streaking past. I must be... I couldn't have survived that... but... why does it feel so much like being alive?

Bemused, she watched one of the traveling lights pass close by, masking the stars with a soft, slightly turquoise glow. Despite its brilliance, the object itself was very small – no more than half a meter across, if that – but its comet-like tail seemed to stretch out for miles. A Planet Egg, Cosmo thought, comforted in its presence. Suddenly, a strange idea struck her: Does it know I'm here?

As if in answer, the Planet Egg swept across her path, enveloping her in a cone of luminescence that surrounded the dense primary tail. Whether the stream was composed of matter or energy was difficult to tell; Cosmo perceived only a vague tingling and a revitalizing surge of heat, not unlike the first rays of a rising sun. The energy felt kind, reassuring, as if the Egg were telling her not to worry. All will be right. You are safe now.

A part of Cosmo wanted to agree, but a lifetime spent surviving the perils of war had taught her not to accept anything without question. "What's going to happen?" she asked aloud, knowing somehow that she would be heard.

There is nothing to fear.

"How do you know?" Cosmo persisted, forgetting the entity she was conversing with. The Planet Egg shifted its position relative to her, causing the stream of energy to waver for a moment.

Trust, it seemed to be saying. All will be right.

"'Trust'?" Cosmo repeated, perplexed. "Trust who?"

In response, the Egg changed course again, taking off on a separate path. "No, wait!" Cosmo called after it, horrified at the thought of being left alone.

...nothing to fear... the Planet Egg repeated, the warmth from its tail diminishing as it appeared smaller and smaller every second. The crystalline shape vanished once more into a star-like glow, and deep space suddenly felt cold and desolate. Just as Cosmo was about to turn away in disappointment, a dark form caught her eye, silhouetted against the departing stream of light. It didn't take her more than a few seconds to recognize the outline.

Shadow? What's he doing here?

The unconscious body of the Ultimate Life-Form floated mere feet from her, little more than a patch of blackness against the star-flecked sky. The two drifted in space like a pair of rag dolls, Cosmo marveling at her good fortune; the odds of them being hurled on such close trajectories had to be astronomical. She extended a hand, hoping to wake him for some answers, but found his arm just beyond her reach.

"Shadow?" Cosmo asked, fighting the urge to struggle in his direction. "Shadow, are you... can you hear me?"

A quiet, guttural growl came from Shadow's throat, prompting Cosmo to give a sigh of relief. She withdrew her outstretched arm – noting that her body moved forward slightly in the process – and watched for more signs of life.

"Cos... mo..." Shadow groaned, cracking his eyelids open a small amount. He blinked, scrutinizing her face. "I'll be damned. It worked." He took a breath and exhaled slowly as if testing his lungs for injury, eyes wandering over the scenery.

"Shadow..." Cosmo began, hesitating over the strangeness of the question, "...are we dead?"

"I doubt it." Shadow shifted his body, uttering a pained grunt. "You just asked a question, and I just answered it. We're both here."

"We could be spirits, couldn't we?" Cosmo replied, remembering dreamlike visions following the impact of the cannon. Shadow's right eyebrow arched.

"You believe in spirits?"

"I spoke with Tails just a moment ago. I don't mean with my adult form, I mean inside the bridge. That has to count for something."

"Suit yourself. I don't believe in what can't be killed," Shadow replied. His eyes swept across their surroundings again. "Still, being in the physical plane does raise the question... where are we?"

"I..." Cosmo looked around as well, but space presented no landmarks. "I can't tell, I'm sorry."

"No apologies," Shadow instructed curtly.

"I'm-" Cosmo stopped herself mid-sentence.

Shadow nodded, apparently satisfied with her response. "So we're not dead, but we might as well be," he mused, scanning the sky yet again. "We're adrift in space without a single star for light-years." He spoke in a level, matter-of-fact tone, hiding any emotion perfectly.

"So... we're doomed?" Cosmo asked, remembering the Planet Egg's assurances: All will be right.

"No," Shadow replied. He continued watching the stars for several seconds before speaking again. "Can you reach over here?"

"I tried when you were unconscious..." Cosmo began.

"Use your amulet," Shadow interrupted.

The Seedrian hesitated, then looked down at the front of her dress. To her surprise, the oval-shaped gem was fastened exactly as it had been before her transformation, evidently restored along with her body. However, a web of hairline cracks were visible just below the surface, marring its once-flawless interior. "I can't," Cosmo replied in disappointment. "I must have used all my power for the transformation."

"Throw it," Shadow said. Cosmo looked at him, uncomprehending. "Out into space," he clarified, pointing directly behind her.

"What, just... throw it away?" she asked, clutching the stone in both hands as if it might perform the action of its own accord.

"Better it than you," the hedgehog replied. With a bizarre twist of his spine, Shadow oriented his body to face her. Cosmo looked at her amulet again, uncertain. Despite its familiar ruby-like sheen, the crystal contained no sign of the faint incandescence that had once emanated from its heart. It appeared dull and lifeless – a mere copy of the one she had worn as long as she could remember.

Cosmo sighed, unhooked the gem from its clasp, and searched the sky for a suitable target. A small triangle formed by three golden points of light caught her eye; she fixated on this, moving the amulet back and forth in her hands to get a feel for its weight. A few seconds passed in silence. Finally, Cosmo took a breath, drew back her arm, and hurled the crystal into the void. She spotted one final glint of light from its polished surface, then nothing.

"Shadow?" she called after several tense seconds.

"Don't move," his voice replied. "It worked."

Cosmo released the breath she had been holding and waited for the reassuring contact of another being on her wrist or forearm. Instead, she felt a brief push against her upper back as if to stabilize her, followed immediately by Shadow's arm darting under her own and hooking her with his elbow. A hand seized her dress, and she recognized the distinctive sound of tearing fabric.

The Seedrian gave an alarmed cry and pulled away, instinctively swinging her one free arm at the perceived aggressor. She felt something softer than bone connect with her elbow; Shadow uttered a growl of pain and recoiled, his steadying hold vanishing. Cosmo felt her heart freeze as the world inverted around her, and for one terrifying moment she was alone in unending darkness.

The next instant, a hand shot out of somewhere and closed around hers, stopping her motion with a jerk. Cosmo came to her senses after a short pause and found herself face to face with Shadow.

"Do not push me!" he growled, glaring at her with scarlet eyes. His voice was uncannily quiet; every syllable spoke of barely controlled fury, making it far more intimidating than a shout. He pulled Cosmo closer and put a hand on her shoulder to stop her.

"You see that?" he demanded, pointing at their linked hands. "That's how close I was to missing! Suppose you went into a fetal position! Suppose you hit me in the eye! Where would you be then?"

Cosmo shook her head mutely, nearly on the brink of tears. Shadow had every right to be angry with her, but his expression indicating something much closer to fear. "I- I'm sorry," she stuttered out, looking anywhere other than his face.

"No apologies," Shadow snapped, closing his eyes and bringing a hand to his forehead. His grip on Cosmo's hand shifted slightly as the minutes passed in silence.

"We lose each other out here, that's it," he said, lowering his hand, all visible signs of emotion gone. "No more second chances, you understand? Ludus perficitur." Cosmo said nothing, only nodded. "Good."

On that note, he rotated Cosmo to face away from him and tore the rest of the way across the fabric, ending with a petal-shaped section of her skirt in his hand. "What's that for?" Cosmo inquired.

"You'll have to sleep eventually." Shadow kept tearing, dividing the material lengthwise into quarters. Though delicate in appearance, it was tough and fibrous like a corn husk – exactly what the task at hand required. In less than a minute, the scrap of clothing had become a five-foot tether between the two coasting figures.

Silence again reigned for several minutes. Cosmo watched the cord unwind slowly as they drifted apart, eventually pulling taught and starting to rotate around their combined center of mass. A sense of weight asserted itself – slight, but reassuring nonetheless.

"Shadow..." Cosmo began, carefully breaking the silence, "why do you care?"

"Care?" Apart from his reply, Shadow remained still and immobile, watching the sky ahead of them.

"About getting me back."

Shadow turned to look at her, thoughtful. "Why shouldn't I care?" he asked. "You're no threat, not with the Metarex gone."

"But why risk your life?" she persisted. "You could be on the Typhoonright now, and I could be gone."

"Yet we're both here," Shadow answered.

"Exactly," Cosmo continued. "And I know that didn't happen by chance.

Shadow sighed, folding his arms with an air of dignified surrender. "You're right, it wasn't by chance. Your death was undeserved, and Sonic and I made sure to correct it. But we couldn't bring you back, not with Dark Oak's planet about to go critical."

"So you stayed behind?"

Shadow nodded. "I figure, if a child can root herself in front of a cannon and give the order to fire, the Ultimate Life-Form can do without gravity for a few days." He paused and uttered a quiet cough, clearing his throat. "You should sleep," he advised.

Even as he said it, Cosmo became aware of a sudden, overpowering exhaustion. "Yes, I think so..." she mumbled, deciding not to wonder about the hedgehog's impeccable timing. "Shadow?"

"Hm?"

"Thank you."

The Ultimate Life-Form turned his gaze to the faint band of stars ahead of them. "When we get home," was his only reply.


Twenty-five light-years distant, a colossus of steel and aluminum glided silently toward home. A lone figure sat motionless at her helm, watching the slow movement of hundreds of thousands of stars and seeing none of them. He thought of nothing, save she who had once possessed his heart – she whose death would eternally disfigure his conscience. Not once did he suspect that, at that very moment, her thoughts dwelt upon him as well.

As he stared into space, his gaze spoke of wisdom beyond his years. He was a child of war, tempered by suffering that many people would never know – the embodiment of all that lifekind could be and everything it endeavored to prevent.

A brilliant flash – the captain's eyes darted toward the source, watching as it traced a luminescent arc across the sky. The sight was unlike anything he had seen before – a faint cone surrounding a bright tail, glowing soft white with a tinge of blue-green. The light seemed to speak as he gazed upon it in wonder.

Hope, it told him. All will be right.