A/N:

Welcome back. I'm glad to finally be continuing this series. I actually wrote this chapter over a year ago, but I wasn't ready to commit, so I didn't post it yet. Then I ended up focusing on another story and... yeah. If you notice a change in style come chapter 2, that's why.

Just a note: While I'm taking quite a few liberties with SA2's plot, I'm not terribly familiar with Sonic lore and characters. I've done a lot of wiki reading, but I haven't... actually played most games. So if I mess something up, feel free to correct me. It might be intentional, but I still appreciate it.

Anyway, enough rambling. I can't promise the same weekly upload schedule this time, but this story has my focus. No 200,000-word distractions this time. :P I hope you enjoy the sequel to The Promise.

Echoes of Eternity: Part 2

Wake.

In my dreams I see other worlds, realities that are sometimes long past and sometimes yet to be. I sleep in death, drifting beyond the pale, but always I wake into nightmare.

My body is gone, shattered, torn into pieces by the force of my grief, chained to this horrible, agonizing almost-life. And I wish it could just end. That I would fall into the darkness, erased. But something keeps me anchored here. Tethered to this world, shackled to the Earth I once loved.

...Shadow. The only friend I have left. Where are you?

Always, I hear the distant whirling of wind, feel the tiny bites of snowflakes landing on my skin. It calls me back, begs me to let it go, just sleep. I'm lost in the middle, torn between sweet relief and this haunting feeling of almost being alive. And our dream I can't let go.

Wandering forever, walking side-by-side with myself; two different journeys, two roads that lead nowhere. One covered in impassable snow, and one blocked by earthly walls that stretch on forever and can never be broken. At any time, I could turn away and run to the darkness. It'd be easier, really, than holding on.

But I can't. I can't give up. They... they took him away. I don't know what I can do in this state... But... What if he needs me?

He never abandoned me, not once. Until the very end, Shadow refused to leave me behind! He would have escaped safely if he had. I would have died on the ARK no matter what. But he didn't, and because of me he couldn't even escape. So I have to stay.

Shadow... Wherever you are... I promise, even if it takes me an eternity, I will find you.

Shock, so cold, flooding her icy veins, chilling her still heart.

For one beautiful moment, he still stood, reaching out for the girl who couldn't save him. She watched the blood trickling down his faded lab coat, and she wondered if her grandfather would stand, defiant, scoffing at their attempt to silence him. And then his frost-coloured eyes, so like her own, went blank as he fell. A cloud of dust kicked up from his corpse and settled over the soldiers who had murdered him. And that was the last of the ARK's survivors. All but one.

That feeling, the numbness seeping into her ethereal bones, never went away.

And it was accompanied by... something new. A bitterness that sweet, kind Maria thought she would never feel. Even after they snatched her life away from her and imprisoned her only friend, she had taken it in stride. As she drew her last breath on the ARK, felt the life seeping out of her, she'd smiled and forgiven G.U.N. for everything.

But this.

Maria looked down numbly at her hands. They were shaking. He... He had never even let her touch a gun. He hated them, despised them. They ended lives. They hurt people. They had stolen his son and his granddaughter away. And after all the injustices those terrible objects had inflicted on him, her grandfather had been mowed down by the very weapon that had taken everything.

Distantly, she heard the gleeful screams of the crowd, their smiling faces lit by violent daylight. They wanted blood. It mixed with the dust and seeped into the earth, the vicious sacrifice they'd needed to maintain the illusion of safety. An example to anyone who thought of crossing G.U.N.

But though anger coursed through her, she realized then, standing in a hollow, formless body, that she could do nothing. Not to the soldiers who had killed him; not to the people who had orchestrated the raid on the ARK; not even to the crowd who celebrated the gruesome execution of her kind grandfather.

She was unable to do anything but watch as they carried his corpse away, until he disappeared. Until his body was buried in an unmarked grave, reserved only for criminals. Until he was only a memory.

Gerald Robotnik was not the best person. No, he had done many cruel things, terrible things that couldn't be excused. He was, perhaps, not even a good person at all. But no matter what he had done, he never once had his own interests in mind. Until the very end, he thought only of his granddaughter who he'd loved. He had never wanted anything but for her to live.

Two souls, both of their dreams thrown away.

There was nothing left in this world for Maria. Nothing but a fading memory of someone who had once been her friend. And yet, she lingered, not knowing why. So, searching for that one last sliver of a dream she had left, she wandered.

The years slipped by. She counted them by the Christmas trees they erected in city centers, golden leaves that flew past and turned, soon, to snow, rain that cooled the sun-drenched towns and turned the streets to little rivers. She remembered telling Shadow about seasons, spending hours reading about them. And now they bloomed around her: rain and snow that fell through her body, the hot summer and crisp autumn air she couldn't breathe. A beautiful world that was just out of her grasp. Years that went steadily on without her.

And her wounds, slowly, began to heal. Her anger turned into bitterness, bitterness into a grudging forgiveness, a hole that would never close up. Even after all that time, she still felt shock at everything G.U.N. had taken away from her. Maria's spirit had been torn apart by her death, and though bits of her were beginning to return, she would never be able to put herself back together.

She never regained her hope. Shadow was gone, lost somewhere in this world–if he was still alive at all. She couldn't harbour more than the smallest belief that she may ever find him. And even if she did... Then what? She hadn't done anything for him when she was alive. What could she possibly do for him in this useless form?

What if he couldn't see her?

There were others. People like her. They looked normal, and yet, she was able to spot them in an instant. The way people walked around them but never exchanged glances; they lacked any sort of physical connection to the world. A thin rope tethering them to reality was all they had, and she could sense that mutual irresoluteness of spirit.

But they only exchanged glances, a nod to acknowledge the other. Sometimes they stared, some with curiosity, others pity. But always, they eventually turned away and continued walking. They had their own reasons for staying, their own problems to take care of, and Maria knew she was on her own now.

She looked for them, of course. Among those spirits, she had never seen Grandfather or Rei. But, at least, she had also never seen Shadow.

As for the living... She had wondered. Occasionally, it seemed as if people had glanced at her or shuffled out of her way. And there was that soldier. The man who had hesitated, the only one not to assist in the murder of her Grandfather. But if living humans could see her, it was incredibly rare. And there was no guarantee that Shadow would be able to.

At any time, she knew, she could simply give up. Fade away, into eternal sleep, peace. And every day she wandered, every sleepless night that passed, the call only got stronger. And yet, she couldn't let go. She just couldn't. So she carried on, lifeless, drifting. It was all she could do.

Another day. Another place.

The clear, perfect sky hung above the city Maria had wandered into. Sunbeams reflected off shiny glass windows that plated skyscrapers like armour, and people squinted as they bustled through the square. She had been to this city before, years ago perhaps, but it hadn't been so densely packed with people.

Even after years of wandering, Maria couldn't help but gaze around in wonder at the bright city lights, the ebb and flow of people as they passed by. She had never seen so many in one place. On the ARK, there had only ever been a handful of people in the same room as her. Now, they flooded the massive city, flowing out of buildings and swarming the sidewalks.

And the houses, too. She had never managed to get into one, blocked just as much by walls and doors as anyone else. But, peeking through the windows, she was surprised to see people living in multiple rooms, with all sorts of luxuries she couldn't identify. Somehow, she had always imagined houses as single bedrooms, just like on the ARK.

Everything was so... different here. Everyone ignored each other instead of exchanging amiable greetings. Their clothing was vividly bright and colourful enough to make Maria dizzy. They stopped at square booths to speak to others through a strange object, like the coms people on the ARK had used to communicate, or the device the pilots had announced messages with.

And it was so wide and open. Instead of close ceilings and closer walls, wrapped tightly by a blanket of stars, there was nothing to cage this world in but the distant, endless sky. It almost scared her, to turn and see miles of empty space instead of a wall a few feet away.

Maria had always felt infinitesimal. Project Shadow had always been bigger than her; she'd known that. Though the events she had experienced in her short lifetime were extraordinary... Hidden among so many people, lost in this massive world, she felt so incredibly insignificant. She was the protagonist of her own story, her journey to find Shadow. And yet, that was only one quest out of millions.

Dazzled by the crowds and the blinding lights, the girl managed to stumble to a bus stop bench. Maria watched the people go by as she took a minute to collect her thoughts. She knew that a G.U.N. facility wouldn't have a neon sign plastered on it, so she kept an eye out for the obvious: a soldier with an assault rifle, a mysterious man dressed in all black.

But rarely did she see someone who fit that description. And even when she did follow them, they only led her to public military bases and facilities in the cities–not somewhere a top-secret experiment would be interred. She'd been too distraught to even think of following the soldiers who executed her grandfather. So she was left with no leads at all.

Maria sighed, staring at the completely normal people who ambled by, and let her thoughts wander. Even after years on Earth, it was hard to get used to the strangeness of the humans here. On the ARK, they had all been either young, smart-looking types, or wizened old men who still had some spark in their eyes.

Here she saw children skipping gaily by, old women hobbling past on canes, skinny teenagers with lithe bodies, people with red skin scorched by the sun, muscular men, thin people, fat people, oddly short or tall people, people with every shade of skin imaginable. Not to mention the occasional Faunas, fur and feathers of all colours brightening up the landscape. Everyone was so... different.

Maria smiled to herself as a young boy streaked past, followed closely by his frazzled mother. His wispy light blond hair reminded her of Abraham's white locks.

Her smile faded as she remembered the hole they'd left in his mother's forehead. Abraham had been there, but when the soldiers heard and chased her, that was the last Maria had seen of him. What had become of that boy? Surely... surely they hadn't killed him too, right? He had nothing to do with Shadow. Nothing.

Well, there was no telling. Through glass windows stacked with TVs she had watched the news broadcasts, but they had said nothing about her, Shadow, or Abraham. Only vague descriptions of a biological weapon, reports condemning the scientists who had revolted and murdered soldiers. Their intent, they said, was to use this "weapon" to attack the United Federation. All lies. So until she could get to G.U.N. records somehow, she could never know the truth.

The boy's mother, having caught her runaway child, set him down right beside Maria. Luckily, no one had ever sat on her or ran into her, and they didn't seem to notice whenever she touched them. It was as if she was emitting some sort of aura, something that kept people far away.

"Now, Christian," the mother said, tying a leash attached to the boy's backpack tightly around the bench, "Mommy needs to go inside. I'll be right back, okay? Stay right here."

The child wasn't listening, though. He was staring dreamily off into space, even once his mother walked off with an exasperated look on her face.

"Hey, what's your name?"

Maria blinked and turned to the boy, recoiling as she saw his eyes locked on her. He was looking at her with a clarity she hadn't seen directed at her in a long time. "Um... A-are you talking to me?" the girl stuttered, surprised at the sound of her own voice. How long had it been since she'd been spoken to?

The boy flashed a toothy grin, his brown eyes lighting up. "Who else would I be talking to, silly?" He poked her arm with a pudgy finger, a gesture Maria couldn't feel. "I'm Christian. I'm five years old."

"Maria. Tw-twelve." She stumbled over the age, unsure of how old she really was. She could have been twenty, and she still would have felt like the same child inside, never having truly grown up.

The young girl surveyed the child for a moment, and though she was hesitant, her curiosity got the best of her. "Why are you on a leash?"

Christian tugged at the harness around his chest. "My mommy put me in this 'cause I crossed the road wrong. She said I was gonna be the death of her. Can you get it off?" Maria shook her head quickly, looking down. "Why not?" the boy pressed.

"Because..." She blinked and furrowed her brows. How could she just say bluntly that she was dead? "Because I'm not real."

The child frowned and poked her again. "How can you not be real?"

"I can't feel that. I'm just not."

At that moment the boy's mother burst out of the shop, bags in hand. Relieved at seeing her child safe and sound, she marched over and quickly untied him. "Come on, Christian, let's go."

The boy grabbed Maria's hand abruptly, startling her as he pulled her up from the bench. "Mommy, meet my new friend. Her name is Maria and she's twelve years old."

The mother only gave a dismissive glance in Maria's direction, shaking her head. In her vision, her child's hand still hung by his side and nothing but air stood beside him. "That's nice, sweetie. Say goodbye to Maria."

The child refused to let go. So Maria, reeling from the odd feeling of a living person interacting with her, was forced to follow. Hunched over slightly as she was dragged along, the girl wasn't sure how to feel about this. A part of her was apprehensive, but another felt... relieved. Relief at finally being noticed, even by a child who couldn't help her.

What do I have to be scared of anymore? Maria thought. She couldn't die; there was no reason to be afraid of anything ever again. So she let her fear slip away as she trudged towards her new life.

It wasn't long before the trio reached what Maria presumed to be their house. It was a nice little two-story suburban place, flanked on either side by identical houses. The simple, idyllic life that Maria had once dreamed of.

Christian's mother burst through the entryway and dropped the groceries on the counter, slamming the door with her foot as claws clicked on the floor. Maria found herself rather suddenly confronted by a huge brown beast, snarling and screaming at her.

"Bandit!" the mother yelled, whipping around. "Outside!"

Maria blinked, realizing it was a dog. She'd seen pictures of the soft, fuzzy, and cute creatures, but none like this. He was black and brown with a thick skull and short muzzle, but his eyes were piercing bright blue. Those eyes bored into her as the dog continued barking savagely, ignoring his owner.

Christian's mother huffed and grabbed the dog by its scruff, nonchalantly hauling the massive creature out the sliding glass door and into the backyard. Even once penned outside, Bandit continued to bark, whining and scratching at the glass.

"What has gotten into that dog..." Christian's mother muttered while placing food into the pantry. After stepping around her son as he stood in the middle of the kitchen staring at Maria, head tilted slightly, she sighed heavily.

"Sweetie, why don't you go play outside with Bandit?" She picked up the little boy and placed him beside the whining dog. Maria, not sure what else to do, ducked under the woman's arm and slipped through the door as it slid closed.

Bandit immediately ran his nose into her ankle, taking one deep sniff, and then another. Maria took a deep breath, reminding herself that she had nothing to be afraid of, even from this frightening creature. Perplexed about the lack of scent coming off this human, the dog whined and stepped back.

The backyard was a small, fenced area, lined smartly with flowers of various, muted colours. Toys and playsets lined the yard, the only thing out of order in this neat garden. Not even a blade of grass dared to grow too tall. The boy took Maria's hand and led her to a shady area near the fence, collapsing under a droopy tree.

For a few minutes, the two sat quietly. Christian stared, head still tilted with that same confused look on his face, as Maria sat primly. Finally, slowly, he reached out and poked her arm once more.

Maria didn't turn. "Why do you keep doing that?"

"Why can't Mommy see you? But I can? And Bandit?" The aforementioned dog, with a glare at Maria, settled his gargantuan head in Christian's lap and gave a rumbling sigh.

Maria, staring at the perfect blue sky, closed her eyes. "I told you. I'm not real."

"If that was true then you wouldn't feel like that." The boy crossed his arms, sticking out his lip in a resolute pout.

Curious, the girl looked back. "Like... what?"

"Warm," Christian said matter-of-factly.

Maria blinked. How could that be true, that the spirit of a cold, lifeless corpse would emit any sort of warmth?

"Anyway," the child continued with a grin, "that means that we can be best friends, because I'm the only one who knows about you."

What a happy dream, having someone to talk to again. But she'd stopped bothering to dream a long time ago. "I can't stay. I'm looking for my friend."

"Where is he?" Christian inquired.

"I..." Maria hesitated, then sighed. "I don't know."

"What's he look like?"

Even after all these years, Shadow was still burned into her mind. They all were. Faces with picture-perfect clarity surfaced in her memories: The flecks of brown and gold in Rei's dirty green eyes. Creases in her grandfather's brow from years of worry, a few strands of black in his greying hair. And Shadow's perfect construction, not a single feature asymmetrical or disproportionate, nor any small physical flaw that most people were prone to.

But things like that wouldn't mean much to a five-year-old. "He's a black hedgehog. A bit taller than most of them, I think. Red eyes, red and white patterns on his fur, like this." Maria traced on her arms where the stripes of crimson fur ran up. "But..." She smiled to herself, remembering the kid's few years. "I doubt you've ever met him."

Christian pondered for a moment. "My daddy was talking about a black hedgehog at work... Oh, and there's one in my class too!" The boy beamed, but his smile suddenly fell. "But he's green. So it's probably not him."

"Wait, wait," Maria stuttered. "What was that about...?"

"Christian! Dinner's ready!" The sliding door slammed shut and Maria saw Christian's mom disappear into another room, her sunflower-coloured skirt trailing behind her.

The little boy hopped up, grabbing Maria and dragging her to her feet. "C'mon, let's go eat!"

Probably nothing, Maria thought. But she resolved to ask later about Christian's father. For now, she just had to worry about staying on her feet.

~~...~~

The family was seated around the dinner table, joined finally by Christian's father. Awkwardly, at Christian's urgings, Maria had wiggled into an empty seat too close to the table. Not yet understanding her inability to interact with the world, the little boy had given her a weird look for not pulling the chair out, but said nothing.

"Mommy," Christian whined as his mother placed plates around the table, "You have to make one for Maria too."

"Maria?" the woman asked absently, sitting down. "Is that one of your little friends, sweetie? You should have told us if you invited someone over."

Christian huffed dramatically and crossed his arms. "No, she's right here, see?" Maria looked sadly down at the table. Christian would probably never understand.

"Oh," the mother said, staring blankly, until her eyes lit up. "Ah, Maria."

The aforementioned girl would come to hate that stilted tone they used when talking about her.

"Maria?" the boy's father asked blankly, and Maria heard a whisper of "imaginary friend".

Ah. That made sense, she realized. As far as she knew, that was a common thing, a curiosity of Earthen children she had never really understood. Even in her lonely childhood, she'd never had one, and as far as she knew, neither had Abraham. But, she supposed, the ARK hadn't any ghosts then.

"Don't worry, Christian," Maria whispered to her friend. "I can't–don't need to eat."

He didn't appear to understand, his brown eyes wide and confused, but he shrugged. "Never mind. She says she's not hungry."

She was. Not exactly a normal, human hunger. But she missed food. She missed the rare sweetness of fruits they occasionally brought onto the ARK, the rich and wholesome taste of meat, or even the tasteless freeze-dried stuff they mostly ate. She missed feeling full. She missed feeling hungry. She even missed the feeling of those last few days, when starvation had torn her delicate stomach to shreds.

Come to think of it, she missed feeling.

She did her best not to hope for something that could never happen, so she didn't think about it that much. But, before she could stop it, an old quote popped into her head from her days reading Alice: "Sometimes I've believed as many as six impossible things before breakfast."

Maria looked over at Christian, and she almost laughed. Maybe, here in Wonderland, she could believe in impossible things. If only for a little while.

~~...~~

"This is my room. See? I've got lots and lots of toys." Christian picked up an extremely detailed model train from an expensive-looking set. "That's because my daddy works at the best job in the world."

That piqued Maria's interest. "Christian... What does your dad work as?"

Bandit, jumping onto Christian's bed, curled up and yawned. He looked at the spirit with one distrustful eye for a moment, but feeling a bit more comfortable around this strange not-human that smelled like sunshine, closed his eyes.

"Umm..." The little boy looked up from his trains. "Some big 'orgizashun'. The biggest one ever!" He beamed. "You wanna play with my trains?"

"Can't pick things up," Maria mumbled, but she sat down beside him. Thinking, she tried another approach. "Remember the black hedgehog? Can you tell me about him?"

The boy gave a wary glance at the open door that led into the upper floor's hallway. "I'm not supposed to know," he whispered. "I listen in the hallway. They said he's a wrong 'ecksperimint'. And they made him go to sleep."

Maria's eyes widened. That had to be him. A black hedgehog who was an experiment, held by a big organization? Who else could that be? Her excitement, though, soon turned to dread. If G.U.N. had him... Did they...?

He can't be dead, she thought. Wouldn't she know? Every time she closed her eyes, she felt him far away. Calling, searching. Drawn to each other's existence, but blocked by a maze of walls that went up for infinity. She felt the same tug from the other spirits who wandered nearby, but this was different, like he was on a different plane of life.

"I have this too..." Christian ran to close his door, then crawled under his bed and emerged with a small box.

As he opened it, she was reminded of the objects she has sometimes snatched from Grandfather. Small trinkets, pictures, papers. The boy pulled out a photograph and Maria stilled.

It was him. Suspended in a small glass tube, eyes closed as he slept. He looked just the same as he always had. Even after all these years, he hadn't changed a bit. She realized then that she, too, had not changed with the years. Both of them were lost in time.

"That's Shadow," Maria whispered.

Christian turned the picture towards him, tilting his head. "He looks scary."

Maria laughed, wiping away tears, the only thing left that made her feel human. "I thought so too." She leaned back onto the bed, resting her head next to Bandit's sleeping form. "I thought that for a long time. But he was one of my only friends. He shouldn't have bothered himself with a kid like me, but... Shadow, he wouldn't..."

Maria realized that Christian was staring with perplexity on his innocent face, so she laughed. "Never mind." Her expression turned serious. "Do you know where your dad goes to when he works?"

The child shook his head, and Maria nodded, understanding. She fell onto her stomach with a sigh, staring at the picture of Shadow. "Christian... Do you want to help me find him?"

The boy looked down. "You'll leave."

Maria shook her head and smiled. "I wouldn't abandon a friend so easily. Someday..." She sat up. "I will have to go to find Shadow. But for now, I'll stay here and be your friend. Even if you don't want to help. Okay?"

Christian looked at the photo of Shadow, tracing it with a pudgy finger. "Promise?" he asked solemnly.

Maria stuck out a finger, grinning childishly. "Pinkie promise."

Christian nodded and finally smiled. "I'll help you find your friend, Maria."

Giggling, they crossed fingers.

At first, Christian's parents played along.

They soon grew tired of "Maria this, Maria that", but they attributed it to a simple phase in their son that would soon blow over.

It didn't.

Christian refused to accept that no one else could see Maria. Some children got away with their imaginary friends, because they kept it to themselves. But he would tell anybody who cared to listen. It almost made Maria sad to hear him talking about her as if she was real, alive.

They didn't learn anything new about Christian's father or where he worked. Maria could easily eavesdrop, but their conversations were rarely helpful. They never spoke about Shadow, where Christian's father went to work, or anything that could help her at all. Christian went through his parents' closets whenever he had the chance, but he too found nothing.

Suddenly, the years that had once crawled agonizingly on slipped by like water. Three years intermingled with games, whispered stories told at night, and the growing concern of Christian's parents as he shut himself in his room every day after school.

Christian was eight.

They began taking him to therapy. Maria wasn't sure if she should have gone, but, well, she couldn't really pull away as he dragged her into the car.

He sat in the back, fuming, arms crossed. The car was uncomfortably silent for the half-hour drive, until, finally, they reached the blinding white building. Garish letters marred its front, spelling "Children's Mental Health Center" in cheerful technicolours that made him want to throw up.

Christian's mother turned the car off and sat there for a moment, staring at her knees. Her husband gazed out the window, expression unreadable.

"We just want the best for you," she said softly.

"If you want the best for me," Christian growled, not looking at her, "you'll leave us alone."

Leave them alone, though, they did not. Soon, the young boy and his companion were sitting in a too-soft chair in a stuffy waiting room, as Christian pointedly ignored the toys and blocks stacked enticingly on a table in the middle. His mother only grew more and more agitated at her son's apathy, and she may have snapped had the assistant not appeared and ushered the family into a cramped room.

The psychologist was a young woman with a sympathetic face, but all the kindness in the world could not have melted Christian's defiant heart. He sat on the couch, pressing against the edge furthest away from his parents. Maria uncomfortably sat between them.

"So, Christian," the therapist said, just a bit too cheerily, "What's the problem today?"

The boy turned his dark eyes on that woman, and, suddenly seeming much older than his years, said in a monotone voice, "My parents think I'm insane. They want to drug me and lock me away in an asylum."

And outburst ensued then, as Christian's frazzled mother went into a tizzy and the psychologist tried to calm her down. Finally, once order had been restored, the woman turned back to Christian and said calmly, "Your parents don't want to lock you away... They're just worried about you, and–" that much hated phrase, "–they only want the best for you."

But it was too late, for the boy had already turned away and tuned them out, refusing to listen to the adults talk about him as if there was something wrong with him, right in front of him no less. He did not respond to any attempts at therapy, nor to any questions.

When he went home, he went in his room and locked the door. And immediately, he was back to his old self, talking and laughing as he played with his toys, as his mother banged on the door and cried.

Maria saw in him something familiar, something she had once done. If something horrible happens to you when you're young, you lock it away. You pretend, just like it's a game, that everything is okay. Keep smiling, keep playing, and life goes on. Until you can't run anymore. Either you face your fear or it comes to you.

Maria wasn't a child anymore; not in age, at least. But she was afraid, so she pretended too.

His parents began to get desperate, so they brought back pills.

"Don't take them," Maria whispered. She remembered the early trials they had run on her as they were trying to stabilize the N.I.D.S. pills, the child their only test subject. She had been sick, throwing up. She'd forgotten herself, weeks of memory wiped from her mind. Finally, they made a pill without side effects. But she was wary of what this medicine would do to her friend.

So Christian stuck them under his tongue then spat them into the toilet when his parents had left. But it didn't take them long to find out, and soon they were grappling him and forcing it down his throat, telling him as he lay choking on the ground that they only wanted the best for him.

Even once he lay reeling on his bed, retching and twitching, unable to see or stand, they only wanted the best for him. That's why they locked the door behind them.

Maria tried to comfort him like she always had when he was sick. His mother was squeamish, but Maria could of course never get ill. She'd always sit next to him and hold his hand, telling him the stories she had once told Abraham.

But she realized, as she sat next to him on the bed with her fingers stroking his wispy hair, whispering tales about Alice and the Mad Hatter, that his eyes were blind.

"Christian?" she asked hoarsely. She touched his hand, and his fingers twitched, but he didn't respond.

He was looking through her.

Christian was ten.

Christian went back to school. He invited friends over, and had sleepovers, and played outside with Bandit. He became a model student and, in all respects, had a healthy and normal childhood.

Maria, always, hovered around him. She still whispered stories to him at night, and sat on the bed to watch him play with his toys.

But he stopped talking back, or smiling at her, or seeing her at all. She realized how much the living took it for granted, another person being able to look at you with that familiar light in their eyes. Or the ability to have a conversation, to talk about nothing at all.

It was Rei all over again. It was Shadow. But at least then, they had been gone, dead or out of sight. She didn't have to think about it; she could carry on, try to be something like happy. But now, he danced before her, taunting, teasing. He was all she had on Earth. Her only chance of finding Shadow. Her friend. But though he stood before her, he was gone, like everyone she had ever known.

Time passed, fading away like it'd never been. Sometimes she wondered if he even remembered his old friend, the little dead girl. Sometimes she wondered if she should throw away what little lead she had and look for Shadow herself. And sometimes she wondered what the point in any of this was, if she should just leave behind everyone who had forgotten her. If it was time to give up her spirit body and go to sleep forever.

She didn't know. So she watched the years, again, pass by.

Christian was twenty.

Maria lay on Christian's bed, staring blankly up at the ceiling as she usually did. She didn't move from this spot very often. The emptiness she felt was crushing, and it tethered her to the ground like a weight strapped to her ethereal limbs.

Around her, the room had changed. The toys went into the closet. The clothes had been picked up off the floor. A neat and unremarkable room, for a neat and unremarkable person. A person who had never been friends with a ghost.

Her head fell to the side as Christian entered, shutting the door softly behind him. His normally cheerful personality was now muted and solemn. The girl sat up, interest piqued, as the man crouched down next to the bed and pulled out the worn cardboard box.

Maria's mind raced. Why? she thought. Shadow, a part of her mind whispered. And, most exciting of all the thoughts, Maybe he remembers.

Gingerly, Christian pulled out the pictures of Shadow and spread them before him. He traced the hedgehog's dark form curiously, brow furrowed.

"Why are you thinking about Shadow?" Maria asked softly, not expecting an answer.

To her surprise, the man looked up suddenly, with a clarity in his eyes Maria thought she'd never see again. He blinked hard, then scooted back along the carpet. "Maria," he whispered, tilting his head in confusion. "You're back."

Thrown, Maria wasn't sure how to reply. Finally, she managed to choke, "I never left."

Christian slowly stood and stumbled towards the door, pinching his forehead. "I... I need to get back on those meds, I think."

"You said you'd never believe them." Christian stiffened, clutching the doorknob. "You said you wouldn't let them make you think I wasn't real."

Slowly, he dropped his arm and turned around, eyes boring holes into her. "What are you?"

"Not a disease," Maria said seriously. "I'm not just your imagination. I'm real."

"You always said the opposite."

The child looked away, guilty. "I didn't want you to know the truth."

He stood silently at the door, staring at her. Finally, Christian took a few steps forward and sat back down. A few moments passed as they stared at each other, neither wanting to speak first. Finally, he shook his head and whispered, "Why did you come here?"

Maria pointed at the pictures. "Shadow. I need to find Shadow." That was the goal, the only thing still driving her on.

"And then...?"

Maria looked away. She didn't know what she would do if she even got that far, and she tried not to think about it.

Christian stared at the pictures of the hedgehog, suspended, sleeping. "Why?"

The young girl wilted. The question that had always haunted her. "When someone refuses to abandon you to the very end, when they won't go even to save themselves, you can't just leave them behind. Shadow didn't make it out because of me." She locked eyes with him. "So even if there's nothing I can do to help him, I have to find him."

Christian stared at her, a regretful understanding in his eyes. "What did they do to you?"

Maria didn't answer.

It was quiet for a long time. Somewhere in the house, a clock was ticking softly.

Finally, Maria spoke. "You promised that you would help me."

At first he didn't move, unable to look at her, and Maria thought she might not get a response. Christian bundled up the pictures of Shadow, tied them around with a rubber band–he had to try it a few times, as his hands were shaking–and delicately put them into the box. He slid it back under the bed, out of sight, then said, "Soliraz Island. It's a remote jungle island far off the coast, where they hold political prisoners." He swallowed. "Among other things."

The light returned to Maria's blue eyes as he continued, "Every Friday at 8 PM, a ferry takes soldiers there. That's today. Shadow is probably contained at the deepest level within the facility."

He looked up at her. "My dad tells me everything now. He wants me to follow in his footsteps and join G.U.N. My training starts next week."

Maria stilled. "You're going to become one of them?" He nodded, and Maria's heart sank.

Slowly, the girl stood. Walking over to him, she reached up to whisper in his ear, "Don't ever trust G.U.N. Don't listen to anything they say."

And then she was gone. She left him standing there, the rays of sunlight setting his wispy blonde hair on fire, watching silently as this strange girl who had bewitched him so very long ago walked away.

Outside, Maria turned towards the coast, steeled herself, and walked. She never saw that suburban home again, and she did her best to forget about the little boy who had once lived in it. Another piece of her endless existence faded away. Like shards of glass, they glittered as they fell into the dark.

~~...~~

She'd never seen the ocean.

The waves flared up from the coast, trying in desperation to catch the last twinkling bits of sunlight. Having easily hopped the gap between the ferry and the dock, Maria slipped over to the ship's bow and leaned over the railing. She glanced behind her at the soldiers in uniform who sat talking in groups, then turned her gaze to the horizon.

The strong winds tried in vain to grab at and whip her hair, but for all its efforts, it only succeeded in billowing it the very slightest. Nobody noticed that little girl leaning over the railing, her hair waving softly in the ocean breeze, staring at the setting sun with a determination unmatched by a thousand armies.

That was where she remained as the ship took to the ocean. It cut through the water, to the island of secrets that lay just over the horizon.

This was it. Beyond that lilac sky, Shadow was sleeping. She may not know what to do, or how to save him, but at least she had found him. Once he woke up, she would be by his side, just like she'd promised, whether he knew it or not. The world was working against them at every turn, but she would not let him be forgotten.

The dying light faded with a flash as the sun slipped beneath the blackened waves. And there, left in the darkness, a little girl waited.