"So, let me get this straight," I say. "Eggman is the reason why there's a hole in the moon?"
"Yes," Shadow confirms. "I'm guessing this means that you don't watch the news. Or the sky."
"Oh, shut up!" I shout. "I'm not from around these parts, okay. Yeah, I don't watch the news, but that's because I don't like much of the shit that's on TV in the first place."
"Alright. I get it now. Stop that."
"Hmph." I slouch against the alley wall and slide down to the ground until I'm sitting. "Okay. Getting back on topic...Eggman's some mega-genius that keeps trying to take control of the world using those emerald thingies—"
"Chaos Emeralds," he corrects me.
"Who cares? Okay, so he stole yours, which is how you ended up in his base. But why did you save me?"
He seems to be lost in thought. Shadow explains, "You reminded me of an old friend."
"...Okay?" Sure. That's not creepy.
"Look," he says, "just be careful next time. Chances are, Eggman will be after you again. Whatever you do, don't give into his demands, requests, pleas, et cetera. He is extremely dexterous at getting people to do his dirty work. I should know. I was one of them."
Okay, but I'm still lost, dude. Seriously—what the hell is going on?
"I must be going; this Emerald needs to be put in a safe place. You're on your own here, but if you need further aid, I suggest finding my acquaintance Sonic. He's a blue hedgehog. You can't miss him. (Well, technically you can, but—agh, I'm straying from the point.)"
"Thanks...?"
"No problem. If you find a gemstone like this, keep it safe and keep it hidden. If there's one thing that Eggman's always looking for, it's a Chaos Emerald." He puts the green Chaos Emerald in front of him to give me a good glimpse at it before he shouts out, "Chaos control!"
In a flash of light, Shadow is gone.
-x-
I'm walking down the block, trying to piece together the puzzle that Shadow left for me.
Okay, so Eggman's bad. (I think we've established that already.) He wants the seven Chaos Emeralds. He has my pan flute. He blew up the moon. Don't know why, but he did. Basically, he shouldn't be messed with. But what does he look like? I never actually saw him. How can I avoid him if I don't know what he looks like?
Shadow did tell me who that Sonic guy was, though. He's a blue hedgehog. That's about it. I'm not sure what Shadow meant by how I "technically can" miss him, but I don't think that a blue hedgehog will be hard to spot. Maybe he can explain what's going on.
Back on the topic of the pan flute...what the heck is that thing anyhow? I mean, really, nobody plays those things anymore. What could be so special about it?
As I pass the library, I stop where I am and look up at the grand building. It's large and lined with bricks that are slightly worn. I walk up the concrete steps leading to the glass door leading inside of the building. As I peer through the transparent door, I see books—hundreds of them—lined on bookshelves stretching from wall to wall and extending from the ceiling to the floor. There are people inside, but not many. I assume it's open and think to myself, If Shadow couldn't stick around to help me, then maybe books can give me a hand.
-x-
"No," I mutter to myself, "no...aha! Found it!"
I'm standing on a tall ladder, looking for a book on ancient artifacts, when I find it—the book I've been searching for, entitled A History Told Through Relics. It appears to be set up like an encyclopedia, so I try searching through the "P" section. No luck. I then start flipping through the "F" section.
I hear a propeller-like sound from next to me. I turn my head and see this adorable, yellow fox floating beside me. His tails are spinning like the blades of a helicopter in flight. Wait, tails? Like, not one, but two? Talk about unusual...but it's still kind of cool, to be honest. The kid looks like he's ten or something at most. Hesitantly, I ask him, "Can I help you with something?"
As he's pulling a book from the shelf, he turns his head and smiles at me. "I'm looking for this book on flight mechanisms, but it seems to be missing," he explains. Flight mechanisms? What, is he a mechanic? Kinda young for that kinda stuff, aren't you, pal? "I'm thinking it might have been pushed to the back of this shelf, but I can't find it. It's supposed to be here. Could you check over there for me?"
"Wait, what are you doing on this end of the nonfiction area?" I ask. His book should be on an entire different shelf. Why would he look in the 900s? He should be looking in the 500s or 600s.
"When I looked up the book in the computer's catalogue, it somehow came up as being over here. Maybe there was a mixup a long time ago when the book was added to the system."
I look in the back of the bookshelf where I found my book, and I see the faint image of a thick volume. I pull it out. It's dusty, so I blow the particles off of it. The book's name is Flight Technologies of the Past, Present, and Impending Future. Oh. That makes sense now.
"Is this it, little guy?" I show the book to the flying fox.
He smiles brightly—cherubically, in a way. "Yeah! Thanks a lot!" he cheers. I hand the book over to him. As he flips through the book, I ask him, "So, do you build model planes or something?"
"Even better: full-sized aircraft!" he explains with zeal.
I give him a follow-up question: "Aren't you kind of young to be building planes and stuff?"
"I don't think so, no. I feel like if you want to do something, then age limits implied by society shouldn't keep you from reaching your dreams."
Damn, that was deep. Who knew such erudite knowledge could come from a kid?
He adds, "I haven't really built anything in a while; I just need ideas on how to improve upon my friend Sonic's plane. What better place to get inspiration than the past, right?"
Sonic? Like the guy Shadow was telling me about?
I don't ask him about Sonic; instead, I comment, "Cool!"
He peers over my shoulder and asks me, "What are you reading about?"
"Artifacts," I tell him truthfully. This might be my chance to bring Sonic into the conversation. "I found this ancient pan flute on the beach earlier. I'm trying to learn more about it."
"That sounds awesome! Can I see it?"
I'm silent for a few moments. Should I bring my story up so early into our conversation? Hell, I barely know this kid. "Uh, I don't have it on me anymore." Nervously, I resume flipping through the "F" section of the book once again. "Someone took it from me when I wasn't looking."
"That's terrible! I hope you find—"
Right in the middle of the fox's sentence, I come across a sketch of the artifact: the pan flute, with all of its detail. My encounter with it at the beach is coming back into memory; I remember running my hand along each of the seven tubes. (The weird part is that there are eight notes in a scale, so I don't know if that was an error or what.) I remember blowing a puff of air through one of them, and I remember seeing a guy get attacked by seagulls soon after. The entire moment—verbatim, crystal clear in my mind. "I found it!" I exclaim.
The fox looks a little thrown off-guard—either because I interrupted him or because I said that I had found the flute that I told him was stolen. "Huh?"
I show him the page in the book. "This is what it looks like," I tell him as I point at the drawing.
He starts reading the passage beneath it out loud: "The Emerald's Flute was crafted a long time ago by a member of the ancient tribe that watched over the Master Emerald hundreds of years ago. Legend has it that when the flute is exposed to a Chaos Emerald, the flute can cause mayhem that increases in volume when more of the Chaos Emeralds come into contact with it; this will only happen if someone plays the note corresponding to the Chaos Emerald exposed to it. For example, the green Chaos Emerald will cause everyone within a specific radius, with the exception of the musician, to freeze in time until the musician plays the note once more. When all seven Chaos Emeralds are within a close proximity of the Emerald's Flute, destruction is not the result, as what may be expected from such a powerful instrument; instead, the flute will grant the holder's greatest desire. This can be reversed, but only by a descendant of the tribe that used to protect the Master Emerald."
"Shoot," I mutter with concern. "That can't be good." I recall all of Shadow's warnings about Eggman. Finally, I realized why he would need both my flute and the Chaos Emeralds.
"Why's that?" asks the fox, who must've overheard me.
I reluctantly explain, "What if I told you that, uh, a guy named Eggman stole the flute from me?"