Hello, and welcome to another update of "Whoops I rambled story out again".
There is at most onemore chapter after this without porn. It was just supposed to be this one, but this scene got way longer with the flashback...
So, Towers/Shadow background and relationship expansion. Yay fleshing out character profiles?
Thank you again for all the reviews - English, Spanish, the language doesn't matter - I appreciate all of them! Lots!
Also, the aforementioned development of Shadow's Chaos abilities is a creative use of his 6 month absence in Sonic Forces. Because where was he for that entire 6 months while Sonic was in space and Shadow copies were running about? I say, in a desert, trying not to die. =]
Anyway, hope you enjoy, have a good week, and the next chapter's half written, so hopefully won't be as long a wait this time.
BATTLE OF WILLS (PART 3)
As much as he would prefer Rouge to leave as well, it was abundantly clear from the body language of both agents that wasn't going to happen anytime soon. She had nodded to Topaz as she'd left and drawn her chair closer to Shadow's as silence descended on the room. They hadn't spoken while he browsed through the files on his computer, the only sounds in the small room the clicking of his mouse and rapid tapping of keys as he updated files, the whirring of the computer adding a touch of white noise.
Not that a lack of communication was enough to assume that the strained relationship he cultivated between them remained. No, they knew each other well enough to communicate with expressions alone. Lack of conversation wasn't evidence enough to assume their 'reconciliation' was fabricated. They'd worked together for almost seven years, and he doubted a five month hiatus would be enough to erase over half a decade of teamwork under pressure.
The irony of the situation wasn't lost on the Commander; he'd put them together to complete Team Dark alongside Omega. As a team, their track record stood at a 99.87% success rate - the highest of any team in the last thirty years, despite the critical nature of many of those missions - and the pair before him were easily two of the most intelligent agents at his disposal.
The fact that one of them was Project Shadow was… unfortunate.
From what he understood from the initial notes, Project Shadow becoming a living, breathing, thinking organism hadn't been intended. Professor Gerald's notes hinged instead on cell cultures and genetic manipulation to create synthetic medical products using said cultures. There was limited success, even; a couple of new antibiotics were produced, gene therapy came along in leaps and bounds, and an entire strain of the flu was eradicated before it could mutate into something worse.
Praise and funding flooded to the ARK as Gerald sank into a deepening despair. Maria, his granddaughter and ward, still withered before his eyes. For all the good it did on Mobius, nothing produced by his research lab was capable of either curing nor easing the burden of Neuro-Immune Deficiency Syndrome (NIDS) on her fragile body.
Even in the sterile environment of Space Colony ARK, she was dying.
Then a wee boy of seven and recently orphaned due to his Mother's own sickness, Abraham Towers was in danger of becoming another soul lost in the state adoption system when GUN approached him. His father had been a deployed soldier before he passed away in service to his country, a man of honour and respect. The Commander in Chief of GUN at the time had been a friend of his and, unwilling to see his only son become another face in the crowd, had offered him a job.
Terrified by stories of abuse and loneliness when in care, he'd agreed to travel to the space colony and become the ward of Professor Gerald Robotnik, who he understood to be an elderly man who held renown as an accomplished biotechnician, and was currently trying to cure a chronic illness affecting his granddaughter.
He was to become the girl's friend, and he did. If they'd had more time together, he believed they would have become closer in adulthood. He was still bitter about her untimely demise when appointed Commander in Chief of GUN twenty three years ago and doubted he would ever forgive those involved in her murder to this day.
It would be decades after Maria's death before Towers was permitted to know the true origins of Project Shadow, and how the failing project was rejuvenated. That information was released to him only upon promotion to head of GUN, and the retirement of the same Commander in Chief who'd seen him sent to the space colony years prior.
The continued existence of Project Shadow was also revealed to him that day, as well as previously withheld details of Maria's death.
At the time, he had been furious. He'd demanded to be taken to the stasis pod containing the creature and stood with his palm barely half an inch from a button those who'd survived the ARK Incident assured him could kill the abomination. He'd shaken, yelled and cried at it. He'd almost pressed that damn button a dozen or more times over while expressing his resentment, his rage, and his unrequited feelings for dead girl they both housed in their hearts.
Then, to his own amazement as much as anyone else's, he'd managed to walk away. It took some time for him to truly determine the underlying thought pattern that led to that decision, but once acknowledged he accepted it as truth. It displaced what he had been told and, while he would likely hate Project Shadow for as long as he lived, he couldn't kill the creature.
Not when the official reports were composed of lies. Blatant lies that contradicted everything he knew of the creature's compassion for Maria Robotnik. There was no scenario he could envisage that would see Project Shadow ever willingly harming the girl. She was a mutual friend they would allow to drag them both to tea parties, make them paper hats and convince to host puppet shows.
Even during his first encounter with the bioweapon it was clear the creature was intelligent and empathetic. It was a memory he wished to forget, one that liked to come unbidden to the forefront of his consciousness whenever Shadow allowed confusion to settle on his features which, thank God, was not often...
The main lights are switched off, auxiliary red warning lamps casting the hallways in blood-red as they run. Despite his shorter stature, Abraham leads the way, pulling Maria along behind him as they attempt to outrace the lockdown and reach her room.
She stumbles with a cry and lets go of his hand to catch herself. The boy stops and spins immediately to pull her back to her feet, forcing her onwards as the great steel doors descend both ahead and behind them. Maria is panting and her hands clammy. A glance back shows her to be pale, though from fear or exertion he cannot tell.
They're not going to make it. She's too slow.
Changing course, he drags her under the nearest door and into the staff room. They head for the back of the room, crawl under a table and huddle together, Abraham doing his best to reassure her everything will be alright.
Except everything won't be alright, because they were in space. The only threats to their lives were failing life support systems or an internal hostile, and he knew which one it was if lockdown had initiated.
Once the door settles and locks into place, the siren starts. It pierces the silence and makes Maria jump in his embrace. She begins to cry, and all he can do is stroke her hair, wide frightened eyes of his own unwilling to look away from the room's only entrance.
Time creeps by endlessly. The sirens continue to blare as prerecorded instructions are read through the speakers: "Find somewhere secluded and enclosed to hide. Stay in pairs or groups. Do not engage unless armed and trained." Abraham feels sick to his stomach in anxiety, but Maria is calming at least, her sobs giving way to hiccups and fearful shaking as they wait for this nightmare to end.
Soon, the pounding of boots penetrates the monotony, and shouted commands can be heard, muffled by thick steel. Their tone is frantic and hurried, and Maria buries her face in his chest as bullets begin to fly in the corridor outside. Missed shots ricochet into other people with fleshy thuds, while screams of pain and terror rise up from those unfortunate enough to come face to face with the perpetrator.
Monotony returns suddenly. The sirens and instructions now feel lacking in body, the pair's breathing too loud in their ears as they cower beneath the table. Abraham's breath hitches as slow, methodical steps approach the door to their hiding place, and he says a silent prayer for the thick, steel door keeping the monster outside, away from them.
That is until the creature plows through it with ease, uncurling itself to stand just before the carnage it's created with an inappropriate air of calmness. From their vantage point, all Abraham can see are its feet; bare fur with short, sharp claws that click on the metal, the previously black fur spattered with the bright crimson of fresh blood.
He's so taken aback by the sight, he doesn't register its approach until it's upon them. Maria's shaking grew more violent as its breathing reaches her ears and she sobs into Abraham's shirt, making the boy freeze.
The creature drops to a crouch fluid as water, and he sucks in a breath as his own hetero-chromatic eyes meet those as bright and vivid as the blood spatter caking it's fur. The smell of iron and warm blood makes Abraham dry heave, and he feels tears pricking his eyes and his bowels threatening to evacuate as he buries his face in Maria's golden hair.
They were going to die.
Seconds turn to minutes and still he breathes. As more passes, the overwhelming fear evolves first into anger - for the creature's sadistic prolonged torture of him and his friend - before instead becoming akin to curiosity.
This beast had obviously killed those who tried to stop its progress through the ARK. The state of its fur, the screams, the recorded message produced entirely for the possibility of Project Shadow managing to escape its confines were testament to who this creature was and what it was capable of.
So why are we still alive? Summoning every ounce of bravery in his body, Abraham slowly turned to look at the creature again, careful to breathe through his mouth and opening only one eye as nerves begin to overtake him. It was still there, crouched in front of them, features twisted not into malice, but… curiosity.
He felt his own face mimic that of the creature, and its eyes widened in recognition of the expression being mirrored back at it. Maria finally turns her head to look as well, and Abraham unconsciously flinches as the creature offers a blood-spattered hand to him palm-up.
His reaction seems to offend it; its ears flatten and its expression reverts to one closer to nervousness, but it does not attack nor act aggressive. Instead, it offers the hand again, except more slowly, moving out of the way a little, and the kids share a glance of bewilderment that this creature wanted to… help them out from under the desk?
The rhythmic pounding of a semi-automatic weapon shatters the moment, the creature buckling to its knees as bullets pepper the walls around them. Maria screams as one rips through her arm. Abraham does his best to shield her with himself, but Project Shadow slumps in front of the pair and holds himself there on the table as round after round embeds in his back, the expression on his face twisting from shock and pain to outright fury with each hit
The entire time, his eyes remain focused on Maria and the injury to her arm, watching her cry in pain and fear. Crimson eyes narrow as there's a shift in the air, the otherwise dry, sterile environment becoming charged with energy that raises the hairs on Abraham's arms and neck.
Project Shadow then disappeared in a flash, revealing the cadet trying to reload, and both children watch in horror as the creature reappears close to the human and begins to rip muscle from bone to the tune of blood-curdling screams.
Unable to cope, Abraham blacks out a second later.
Towers returns to the present with a shudder and a migraine threatening to develop in his left temple, a common side effect to that particular recollection. His fingers hover above his keyboard, but whatever he had been planning to write has already vacated his mind along with perhaps ninety percent of his vocabulary, leaving it feeling cavernous and empty as he remains frozen in place.
Rouge's voice is tentative, a hint of worry in her tone as it fractures both the silence in the room and his thoughts. "Sir..?" He's able to suppress a jerk in surprise and compose himself in the moment it takes to look at the bat; her brows are furrowed in concern and she's leaning forwards slightly, suggesting she addressed him a few times without response. In his peripheral, he can see that damn curiousness on Shadow's face and feels nausea crawling up his gullet. "Has something happened? Is your wife..?"
"No," the response is fast and hard. He notes Rouge flinch away slightly and mask it as retaking her seat, though he lips are pressed together tightly. He takes a breath, shakes his head and clears his throat. avoiding Shadow's gaze and instead looks to Rouge. "Thank you for your concern, but Harriet is fine. Unfortunately, something has come up. This meeting is adjourned until tomorrow afternoon." He bypasses the hedgehog again to look back to his monitor before addressing him. "Shadow, I want you back here tomorrow at 1600 hours with that contract either signed or annotated with your concerns. You're both dismissed."
The Mobians' hesitation to leave doesn't go unnoticed. Towers fights the urge to order them out more firmly. If he did, the pair would likely figure out something was eating him, and it wouldn't be much of a leap for Shadow to assume it was associated with him, either, given the lack of eye contact. So instead he goes back to typing, adding nonsense he'll later delete to the Project Shadow file in an attempt to feign busyness.
A few seconds pass before Shadow stands and picks up the thick file with deliberate care. He can feel the eyes on his cheek as the hedgehog does so, can almost hear the cogs working in Shadow's head over his voice. "Very well. Until tomorrow." Then he's gone, closing the door softly behind him.
Towers tries not to visibly sag and looks to Rouge and uses all of his remaining energy not to shake. "Your presence tomorrow would be appreciated, if you have time to spare." The bat nods, and he returns it, hoping she doesn't read any further into the request beyond keeping Shadow amicable for negotiations. "Thank you. Dismissed."
Only once the Mobian has closed the door behind her does he allow his composure to crumble. He sits back in his chair and rakes what little hair he has with a shaking hand, flashes of the blood-covered hedgehog stripping tendon from bone causing him to heave. He swallows hard and audible and pushes the nausea down as he had done hundreds of times before, holding the edge of his desk for grounding.
I hate that hedgehog. Another hard swallow, but the sickness is abating, his mind beginning to clear again as he leans back in his chair to gaze at the ceiling. His hesitation to have the hybrid released from stasis had been attacked and queried dozens of times before Eggman released him instead, but Towers had always refused requests to revive the beast before then. The creature was dangerous - he knew that more than most, having seen the carnage it could wreak first-hand - and he would have rather not have dealt Shadow the Hedgehog again in his lifetime, let alone be his boss.
But no, Shadow would never knowingly hurt Maria. He'd seen the Mobain tear people apart for shooting her accidentally, transport her rapidly from one side of the ARK to the other when she had a seizure and refuse to leave her bedside while she recovered. Shadow the hedgehog was many despicable things, but he was not responsible for Maria's death.
That meant someone lied in the official reports. What he didn't understand was why; what motive could a previous member of GUN have had to throw blame on the biotechnical experiment? Had they been covering for a panicked cadet, perhaps a friend or family member? Or maybe the real murderer had lied and the officials were none the wiser?
More importantly, when just twenty minutes ago he was trying to provoke the hedgehog into assaulting him and end his emotional pain, why did he care?