Glad crawled out of bed the next morning with the worst headache she'd ever had.

It had crept up on her all night, plaguing her sleep with nightmares of fleeing a rising tidal wave, of falling through breaking glass, the shards shattering around her forever. When she awoke, the headache had already spread from her eye, across the top of her head, and down to the base of her skull in a white-hot ribbon of pain.

She couldn't eat, and only drank a little water at breakfast. Her chaos eye wept red tears and her eyelids swelled. Even her usual eye drops barely helped.

"It was that moon echidna," her mother sniffed, bustling around her. "He worked you far too hard."

Glad wanted to argue, but it hurt too much. She sat on the sofa with her eyes closed, waiting for the headache to run its course. Eventually it would force her to throw up, then it would start abating. It was a good thing Knuckles wasn't coming to see her today. She'd be better by tomorrow.

"I already found a buyer for that hepatizon you dug up," Poppy said, sounding more pleased. "I priced it triple, and it sold in three seconds."

Glad smiled. "That's a lot of bills covered."

"Yes! And I can finally get the water heater fixed. The buyer is coming this morning with transport. He'll be here any minute."

Glad listened to Poppy's footsteps move from window to window. The front door opened, then closed. The engine of a truck rumbled to a halt outside, and voices spoke cheerfully.

Who had paid all that money for a beam of hepatizon? Curiously dragged Gladiolus off the sofa and to a window, where she forced her good eye open.

Outdoors it was cloudy, and the diffused light was brighter than ordinary sunlight. Her eyes tried to roll back in her head. Gritting her teeth, she forced her eye to see what was out there.

A rental truck was parked outside. Three robots were climbing out of the back, their bodies shaped like humans with crab claws. Two men stood talking to her mother. One of them had to be Dr. Eggman. He wore the same clothes she had seen in a news report once, and had the same mustache.

Dr. Eggman had bought the hepatizon? A slight shiver passed through her. Why did he want so much rare metal? He built robots that killed people. Was he working on some awful new invention that might kill her new friends on Angel Island?

As she pondered this, the second man, whose back had been to her, turned to watch the passing robots. He was an old man leaning on a cane, white hair frizzing around his ears. Thick spectacles enlarged his gray-blue eyes, but they were disconcertingly sharp and alert. He looked straight at her through the window.

Glad gazed back, trying not to show fear. What did this stranger see? An echidna girl with an eyepatch. Nothing special.

The robots retrieved the metal beam, carrying it between them, and loaded it into the truck. Eggman paid Poppy. The old man stared at Glad the whole time. Several times he turned toward the door, as if thinking of coming inside. Each time he changed his mind.

It was a relief when the two humans finally climbed into the car and drove away. Glad crept back to the couch and covered herself with a blanket again. She had seen Eggman for the first time ... so why had the stranger with him been inexplicably more terrifying?


"She was one of them," Lewis Gunther told Eggman.

"Eh?" Eggman replied, not really listening. He was guiding the truck down Pilings's narrow Main Street, aiming for a side road that would take him to where he had parked his airship.

"Project Shadow," Gunther said. "Not the one who sold you the metal. The other. In the house."

"I didn't notice," Eggman replied. "I was too busy scoring more hepatizon than I knew existed." He chuckled to himself.

"So we know of several, now," Gunther muttered, fiddling with the handle of his cane. It was silver and shaped like a condor's head. "The beasts you train your robots against, and that young female."

"How do you know?" Eggman said. "Plenty of Mobians around here with chaos affinity. Sonic and his rodent friends happen to have more than usual."

"Yes," Gunther replied, running his gnarled fingers through his white hair. "Why is that, do you think?"

Eggman shrugged. "I hadn't thought about it. You think Sonic is descended from these experiments of yours?"

"Yes," Gunther said. "And the genius fox. And the gifted pink hedgehog. And the badger. And now, that echidna female. I recognize the genetic traits we isolated."

"What about the other echidna, the one with the unusual strength?"

"Possible," Gunther replied. "I need access to your files on them. If I can collect enough samples for study, I can apply for a grant. Project Shadow will resume."

"You haven't said what's in it for me," Eggman said. "I just lost my biggest contract when NME sank all their assets into a hostile takeover."

"Is that what they're calling it, now?" Gunther said, raising one white eyebrow.

Eggman grinned. "That's what I'm calling it. In case you hadn't seen the news, they were destroyed by the mysterious weaponry on Angel Island. Nobody knows what it was. But I'm going to find out."

The truck pulled up beside a sleek, silvery hovercraft with a lower deck for hauling cargo. Eggman parked. "Climb aboard while I load the metal. Do you need help?"

Gunther stepped out of the truck with a little too much agility for a bent old man. "I can manage." He slowly stood up, straightening his bent back. Then he walked to the ship and climbed the ladder like a man forty years younger.

Eggman watched this dubiously. "Are you sure you worked on Project Shadow?"

"Yes," Gunther called down. "I have undergone cybernetic therapy many times throughout the years. I am older than I appear."

Eggman watched the robots carry the metal beam, frowning. Cybernetics weren't his area of expertise, but he had dabbled in the edges of the field. If Lewis Gunther was telling the truth, he was more machine than man. And he wanted to resume experimentation on living beings. While Eggman had few ethical considerations, he disliked working with living things. Machinery was so much more predictable. The thought of Sonic pinned to a table like a dissected frog made him queasy.

He would proceed with caution, indeed.


Knuckles missed Gladiolus.

He missed her the moment he woke up. He missed her at breakfast, as he ate with his friends and thought of things that would have made her laugh. He missed her as he cut metal off the wrecked Fellstorm and stacked it in piles. It was simply an ever-present sense that someone wasn't present who should have been. He looked for her everywhere without realizing he was doing it.

"Is something wrong?" Amy asked when they stopped for lunch.

The pink hedgehog had packed sandwiches and drinks in an ice chest and left it under a tree. As the sun neared noon and the humidity grew too stifling, they quit work and gathered in the shade.

Knuckles grabbed a bag of sandwiches and a water bottle, sprawled on the grass, and sighed. "Been working hard. Glad for a break."

"Oh," said Amy, nodding with a knowing expression. "Or just Glad."

Sonic snickered. Tails's ears pricked and his eyes widened. "Ooo. So is it official?"

"Is what official?" Knuckles said, his face growing warm. He swigged his water to hide his embarrassment.

"They're dating," Sticks said. "Either that or Knuckles was abducted by aliens yesterday."

"No," Knuckles said, rolling his eyes.

"No, it wasn't aliens?" Amy said. "Or no, you're not dating?"

"We're not dating," Knuckles said. "I told you, I helped her dig scrap."

"Did you kiss her?" Tails asked.

Knuckles threw a water bottle at him. "No!"

Sonic kept his mouth shut, but he was laughing behind the cover of his sandwich.

Amy said smugly, "It's pretty obvious you're crushing on her, Knux. Does she like you?"

"I-I don't know," Knuckles stammered. "I mean, I think so. We laughed a lot."

"That's a good sign, right?" Tails said, grinning. "Ooo, Knux and Glad, sitting in a tree ..."

"It's not, I mean," Knuckles floundered. "I'm only trying to help her break her curse."

Silence settled over the group.

"What curse?" Tails said.

Knuckles explained about the curse of chaos eye and where it came from. He left out the part about marriage, avoiding looking at Sonic. But Sonic kept his oath of secrecy and said nothing, although he never stopped grinning.

Tails, Amy and Sticks grew sober, though, when they heard about Glad's life expectancy.

"That's too bad," Tails said. "Glad seems so nice."

"Yeah," Knuckles said. "We're going to talk to the crystal dealer, see if she has records of where that crystal went."

"So," Amy said, "if this all works out, will you marry her?"

Knuckles crammed half his sandwich in his mouth to give himself time to think. He really did want to marry Glad, and bringing another person to the team would change their group dynamic. They deserved to know.

"Yes," he confessed. "I mean, if she'll have me."

Amy nodded, looking thoughtful. "You can't stay in the crew bunker, then. Ask Ramussan if the Guardian has special quarters."

This question had never crossed Knuckles's mind. Of course Glad couldn't stay in the crew bunker. It was all bunk beds. There were plenty of empty rooms on the other floors, though-surely some of them functioned as living spaces.

"I'll help you fix it up nice," Amy was saying. "I know the kind of flourishes girls like. Have you proposed yet?"

"Um, no," Knuckles said, hot embarrassment prickling all over him. "I haven't even asked her to date me."

Amy nodded, staring into space, obviously accepting this as a challenge. "If you take too long, I'll have a chat with her."

"I'm going to talk to Ramussan," Knuckles said hurriedly. He climbed to his feet and strode back toward the palace entrance, not quite running. Behind him, his friends broke into laughter.

It was a relief to plunge into the palace's welcoming coolness, the peace that radiated from the Master Emerald and filled the halls. Ramussan wouldn't laugh at him. Knuckles hunted for his headset and found it in the galley. "Hey, Ram."

"Hello, sir," Ramussan replied. "What may I do for you?"

"Does the Guardian have private quarters?"

"Yes, actually," the AI replied. "Every member of the crew has a deluxe apartment on the living level. I've been confused about why you've been staying in the servant's quarters."

"The servant's quarters!" Knuckles exclaimed. "So where are the real apartment spaces?"

"Upstairs."

Knuckles stepped into the main hall and looked around, baffled. "But ... this is the first floor. We've explored it. There's nowhere to live except the bunker."

"Sir," Ramussan said, sounding insulted, "the palace exists inside a mountain. You have well over a mile of rock above you. Your ancestors built their living quarters higher up, where the view is better. If you wish, I'll guide you to the secret staircase."

Knuckles cracked a grin. "A secret staircase? Now you're talking."

The secret staircase was hidden behind a carved wall panel beside the stairs to the Master Emerald chamber. Instead of a single gold panel to give it away, it had five small gold discs set in a circle, each the width of a fingertip. When Knuckles placed his fingers against them, the door swung inward.

The stone stairs beyond were thick with dust. A yellow crystal glowed in the wall halfway up, providing light. Knuckles ran up the steps, counting. At twenty-five, he arrived at a landing. A broad hallway stretched away to the right and left. Directly in front of him was a window set with old, ripply glass. It looked out through a four-foot-thick wall, west across Angel Island to Bygone in the blue distance.

"I like it better up here already," Knuckles said, admiring the view.

"The Guardian's chamber is to your left," Ramussan said. "At the far end of the hall. It is the largest, and, I am told, the quietest place in the palace."

Knuckles walked down the hall, passing stone doors at intervals. "Oh man, wait'll I tell the others where the really highbrow rooms are."

"Please do," Ramussan said. "I find it humiliating that my crew lives in such cramped spaces."

Knuckles reached the end of the hall and touched the plate on the door. It swung open into a room streaked with light and shadow. He stepped inside.

There were four adjoining rooms in the apartment, all of them bigger than his house on Bygone. The bathroom had actual running water from an old cistern in the corner, as well as a real toilet and a bathtub with four clawed feet.

The rooms had a scattering of furniture: here an old rug, there a chair standing by itself in a corner. The bedroom had a huge four-poster bed frame made of carved stone, but there were no mattresses or curtains. It looked like someone had moved out in a hurry, leaving behind scattered oddments. Ramussan had said that the Guardians had stopped the Calamity and lost their lives in the process. Maybe their families had fled. While the Ancients had faded after the Calamity, their descendants lived on.

Knuckles touched the white crescent on his chest. He was a moon echidna, the race of Guardians. Gladiolus was of the race of Solaris, which essentially meant the sun. The sun and the moon, ever chasing each other through the sky and seldom meeting.

That was a depressing thought. No, he had to plan for success in this particular venture. After all, she'd need a decent place to live. That house of hers ... Knuckles tried to formulate a description that didn't contain words like 'run-down shack' and 'extreme poverty'. When she married him, he'd make sure she lived like a queen. No more scraping for basic necessities like food, the poor girl.

If she didn't turn him down flat. If the curse didn't kill her before he spoke up.

Ramussan, who had maintained a respectful silence up to this point, said in his headset, "Considering starting a family, Guardian?"

"Considering it," Knuckles said, circulating through the rooms again and looking out the windows. They all faced west and were overgrown by bushes and vines on the outside.

"The Gladiolus girl?" Ramussan said, sounding interested.

"Yeah."

"Ah. I wondered at your decision to introduce her to me, when she's not crew."

"Hm." That was a good point. "How does Angel Island handle, you know, spouses?"

"That's up to the Speaker," Ramussan replied. "Sometimes he makes them crew. Other times he merely gives them permission to access island systems."

"Isn't that a security risk?" Knuckles said. "I mean, the Speaker is on Bygone Island. What if enemies got themselves hired as crew and came and killed us all?"

"The Speaker analyzes the psychic profile of a subject," Ramussan replied. "He remembers all current crew and the new subject must match the profiles he has built. The more crew there are, the harder it is for him to assign more. The variables become too complex. No enemies have ever infiltrated Angel Island in that way."

Knuckles nodded, resting his elbows on a windowsill. "I wish I knew more about girls. I don't know how to ... you know." He made air quotes with two fingers. "Win her affection."

Ramussan made a sound like a long sigh. "I can't help you there, Guardian. I have no personal experience. But from what I've observed, kindness and friendship must be in place before love is possible."

Knuckles nodded. "That's the only thing that makes sense. I don't want to hurt her. Fith, if I hurt her, I'd ... I'd kill myself."

"Don't kill yourself," Ramussan said dryly. "I haven't recovered from the last time you tried it."

"For the record, that wasn't suicide," Knuckles said. "That was making restitution."

"Yes, I know." Ramussan sighed again. "You Guardians and your protective instincts. I cannot help but love each one of you. I am the Heart of Angel Island. Each time one of you dies, I am broken."

Knuckles stood there, watching the sun creep toward the horizon. "Is that a metaphor?"

"What?"

"You being the heart of the island."

"I wish it was," Ramussan said sadly. "After the Calamity, when I lost my entire crew, I went mad with grief. I am the reason their families fled. I drove them out. I drowned my grief in loneliness for three centuries. I developed a hobby of killing intruders and treasure hunters. It was my only amusement. Then ... then Maria came."

Knuckles listened, touched. Ramussan must be far more than an Ancient AI, if he was capable of love, loyalty and grief. "Why didn't you kill the people who brought Maria in?"

"I was damaged," Ramussan said. "I couldn't hear the top two floors, and only scatterings of the bottom three. The humans cunningly kept to my dead areas. I knew they were here, but I couldn't kill them, as I wanted to. Then Maria spoke to me, and I forgot everything else."

"I'll bet you were mean," Knuckles said with a smirk.

"You have no idea," Ramussan said, sounding embarrassed. "But she was mean right back. My, that girl has spunk. We were two voices with no power to harm each other, so we battled with wits instead. It's probably why she survived. She was too busy fighting with me to die."

"Good for her," Knuckles laughed. "Let me guess. It was good for you, too."

"It was," Ramussan said. "After the first few months, we grew tired of fighting and started talking. Fifty years we talked. You can work through a lot of grief in fifty years."

"Interesting," Knuckles said. "So, was it you who called to me through the chaos emerald?"

"No," Ramussan said. "It wasn't Maria, either. I believe it was the Master Emerald, itself. As a descendent of Zenith, you are open to its call."

Knuckles pondered this. The story had made him awfully, painfully sorry for Ramussan. But there was no changing the way the island's systems worked. How strange that he was the Heart. What sadistic inventor had thought that was a good idea? It made his trouble over Glad seem awfully small. It was too easy to imagine existing generation after generation, building relationships with heroic people who laid down their lives and were gone forever. An AI couldn't even attend a funeral for closure.

"I wish I could help you," Knuckles said. "You know. Stop being the heart."

"Stop being the Heart!" Ramussan exclaimed. "I knew the risks when I took this position, Guardian. I will never forsake my post. What are hearts for, if not breaking?"

"Beating," Knuckles replied. "Living."

"I have that already. Three centuries, I was alone, Guardian. I learned to kill for pleasure. I became hard and cold. That's what happens when hearts hide away from hurt. Be thankful Maria spent so much time softening me before I figured out how to speak to you. I might have killed you all, crew or no crew. That's how far gone I was."

Knuckles sighed. "Thanks for the talk. It puts things in perspective."

"You're welcome, Guardian," Ramussan said quietly.