He remembered being in Tails' workshop before the hivemind, looking idly at him while he fiddled with a fake emerald. He had said, offhand, that the best guess for how Chaos Control worked scientifically was some kind of energy-matter conversion. Somehow, the body would be changed from a physical form to another form. Once changed, that form could then move to other places at the speed of light or even travel in time since it was not limited by the laws of physics in the same way. That part was relatively easy, he said, and could even be replicated in a lab with little trouble. "After all, everything goes to entropy… er, disorder. It's natural. So it's not hard to break the body apart." The place where it actually remarkable, he said, was that everything got reformed to exactly how it had been before the conversion. After Shadow initiated a Chaos Control, he'd move elsewhere, but when he landed, he would still have the same body, the same memories, and the same personality. It forcibly tore you apart, so quickly you couldn't even feel it, then placed you back together as though nothing happened in exactly the spot where you wanted to be.
Sonic had done Chaos Control on his own before, but that didn't mean he understood it.
He wished he could find the secrets to perfectly restoring things that had fallen apart. The world, melted and fused into one abhorrent mind. His legs, which still ached from breaks, burns, and scars. His friends, who had been lost in a matter of moments: a moment of inattention here, a moment of panic here, a moment of bad decisions. He had spent so much of his life blazing from place to place, responding to the world's wrongs after they started, but nothing was ever the same after a tragedy. People were a little colder. Buildings never lost the cracks in their foundations. He got a little more tired. If things could be restored, a perfect reformation from before, how much more peaceful would it be? How much less pain would the world endure if it never had to feel that loss?
As he felt himself land at a new location, along with Eggman and Shadow, the moment of peace faded from his body, and he felt the urgency once again of their situation. The Taken were on Angel Island now. They had Knuckles, who knew more about Chaos than anyone. They wouldn't be interested in restoration. They would be interested in distraction – and as he knew, it only took a moment for them to get what they truly desired.
Chaos Control is a strange sensation, even when done normally. There wasn't a great way to describe it to another person, but for Sonic, Chaos Control felt like when he was on a particularly freeing run. It felt like he was dancing and got lost in the music. It felt like blowing out the candles on a birthday cake, knowing that it's your favorite flavor. It felt like the sensation of simultaneously being full of excitement while also feeling outside of himself. It felt like energy and calm, movement and stillness. The hard thunk of his exhausted body hitting the floor served as a cruel reminder that yes, he had once again been restored to a physical form. He felt a splinter embed itself in his back, and he tried to suppress a yelp. Couldn't he once teleport to a pillow storage facility? Or a marshmallow manufactory? He'd always landed on hard ground, or space stations, or dirt, and much as he tried to cling to that light feeling, the solidity of the physical always wretched that away from him. At least this time, it hadn't been face first.
This room didn't have the cool, wet air of a cave, or the freezing bite of their base in the north. Instead, it was stale and covered in dust. Some from the ground where they landed came up through the air, and Sonic couldn't help but cough and wince as it filled his lungs. A brief moment of panic struck him when he saw he was surrounded by figures, and he braced himself to run or fight or whatever the case may be. They couldn't be compromised already – they had just escaped!
As if in response to Sonic's thoughts, Shadow put a strong grip on his shoulder. "We're safe, Sonic," he said, clearly exhausted from the trip. "Wait a minute for the dust to clear from your eyes."
When he did, he realized Shadow was right. The room wasn't filled with people, like he thought before. Instead, it was filled with statues. Stone ones, tilted on their sides as though they had been pushed. Wooden ones, banged up but still in tact. Clay, barely recognizable as once having shapes, now in shards swept to the corners of the floor. Most of them were human or animal figures, creating the illusion of a large crowd, but some were barely recognizable as having a real shape.
"What is this place?" Sonic let out, his throat still hoarse from coughing.
"Expecting a lab? Or another cave?" Shadow stepped forward, touching the cool marble of a statue of a young girl. "We needed to find a place we could hide in plain sight if we needed to. And there isn't much better place than an art museum that's already been ransacked."
"An art museum?"
"Yes. I believe this exhibit used to be called 'Modern Interpretations of the Living Form.' The Taken seemed to think of it as wasted metal, so they took what they wanted and left. I doubt they'll be coming back here for some time."
Sonic paused, taking a closer look at the scene around him. Predictably, there was not a scrap of metal to be found - displays had deep divots where some lining had once been, and the frames around artist statements were dissolved into shattered glass and scraps of remaining paper – but the Taken wouldn't find any value here. Art was about expressing thoughts and making something for the pure reason of how it made you feel. People under the power of the nanites didn't think, didn't feel, didn't create anything they couldn't consider utilizing for everyone's sake. His best guess was that it was only a matter of time before the Taken came for the space. Still, he didn't worry. The planet always had more than enough resources for everyone; now that everything was evenly distributed, with no concern for individual wealth or preference, they had no need to make more factories, sleeping spaces, or storefronts. It could be months or years before anyone came back in here unless there was an outside reason to.
It was brilliant. But how could he expect anything less from his literally-created-to-be-better-than-everyone-else boyfriend and a diabolical mastermind?
"Which museum is this, exactly?"
Shadow looked at him inquisitively, as though he expected the answer to be obvious. "You don't recognize it? You didn't feel it in the Chaos Control?"
Sonic shook his head. Shadow sighed.
"We're in Empire City. The site of the first outbreak. Keep your friends close-"
A loud clang resounded through the room, and Sonic felt himself tense, his eyes darting to the doors. Doctor Eggman looked a little sheepish, but not nearly enough for Sonic's liking. He grinned wide enough to show what must have been all of his teeth. "Oh, I'm sorry, did I interrupt you again?" he said, making it very clear that he was not sorry one bit. "I'm a little busy trying to actually get the world back to its previous, ripe for the taking-over state, so you'll forgive me if I'd rather skip over… whatever it is you're talking about." He was in a far corner, attaching wires to some kind of generator. A small computer was attached to it, along with a device that looked like an unusual radio. His fingers flew over the keyboard of the tiny machine, the clattering of keys echoing on the walls and off the statues. "If I'm going to be here instead of looking for more materials, then I'm going to work. You two are not contributing to a productive work environment, so I ask you kindly to shut up or leave."
Shadow rolled his eyes at the Doctor's comments, but didn't say anything further. The Doctor fiddled with his device some more before sitting down, groaning in his hands. "It's no good," he mumbled to himself, "this still isn't nearly enough power."
Shadow huffed. "I'm not getting you another Chaos Emerald until you tell me what it's for. You'll work with what I give you."
"You'd hold the world ransom like that? I thought you were supposed to be a good guy now, Shadow?"
"I'm not going to shift the world from one crisis to another. You have proven time and time again that you are not worthy of trust, Doctor."
Doctor Eggman stood from the ground, joints creaking and legs wobbling with visible effort. "It's far too complex for you to understand. When you have an IQ of over 300-"
"Then you learn that IQ is isn't an accurate measurement of intelligence past 130." Shadow tapped his shoulder with a small flick. "You're stalling, Doctor. And neither Sonic nor I appreciate 'taking it slow.'"
Sonic perked up at the mention of his name. He walked over, and sure enough, the information on the computer made no sense to him. It was like walking in on Tails mid-science experiment, except Tails always managed to explain his work in a way Sonic could understand, and he always said that the ability to simplify for a nonexpert was the sign of true understanding for what he was doing. Saying that to Eggman would only put him on the defensive, but Shadow's point was valid. They didn't have time for stalling or grandstanding. The way he saw it, they should have him talk through everything as best as he could; he'd either know what he'd need to do next, or it would be revealed that Eggman didn't know what he was talking about, and they could work on a Plan B.
In the flickering light and darkness, he accidentally stubbed his toe on something solid in the darkness. When he turned to look at the object, his eyes widened. One of the statues he thought was just wobbling was actually rocking in a regular pattern. The light hit it at an angle, so he couldn't quite make out the shape. It had some small spikes coming from its top – the head, he presumed – and a complex texture near its center before giving way to gangling rods, bent in half. It seemed to be… breathing? He jumped back, not sure which would be worse – his long-suppressed fear of wax statues coming to life and attacking him, or an unexpected intruder of the living variety. A loud clatter from knocking against one of the wooden statues drew Shadow's attention, and he ran over with eyes wide open before taking a beat to sigh and turn on the lights for that area.
"I see you've found your old friend," he said with no affect.
"My…" Sonic's words died as a brighter light shone on the figure. She was alive, true, but bound with ropes so tight they were digging into her arms. Her ears were stuffed with cotton, and her mouth gagged with some sort of rubber. It hung over her pink spines gently – she had never had reason for them to be sharp – but he could tell by looking at the way the edges of her mouth were reddened that she was doing everything in her power to be rid of it. What made him most uncomfortable, though, was the dry black stains solidified around her mouth and dripping down her shirt. She was doing her best, even when held completely unable to move, to make everyone she came across part of the collective. To Take them.
"Amy…" he said, almost a whisper. She didn't react at all, her eyes remaining hollow of emotion, but he knew it was her. Longer spines, a bit ragged, but his old friend nonetheless.
"Yes. Amy." Shadow sighed, shining the light on her. She winced a little bit, her struggle against her restraints fruitless but not stopping. "Make sure you don't turn her away from the wall. The second any of… Them… recognize the artwork in this place, we're done for."
Sonic looked at Shadow, dumbfounded. "You tied up Amy."
He paused, looking at him for a moment before replying. "Yes."
"What the hell, Shadow?"
"She was unconscious. As it turns out, darts can be used for a lot more than their nanites. Tranquilizers, for instance."
"You knocking her out before tying her to a chair doesn't make this any better, Shadow. How long has she been like this?"
His boyfriend furrowed his brow, as if calculating in his head. "Eight days…ten days… somewhere around there. We've been feeding her and making sure she can use the restroom, but otherwise, no movement and no direct contact. And I suppose we should feed her again soon, since we were getting you and the Doctor over the last day."
A surge of anger flared in Sonic's stomach at this. "You've had Amy tied to a chair for a week, with nothing to do except look at a blank wall?! That's horrible! How can you do that to her-"
Shadow slammed his fist into the wall hard enough to make a dent, and his gaze flared into a furious stare. Sonic almost wanted to back down. He hadn't actually see Shadow angry in a long time. Frustrated, yes. Upset, yes. Exasperated, almost constantly. But not angry.
"How can I do this to her?" He repeated, his voice booming in the cavernous room. His yelling was echoing around the room, the vibrations off the statues causing the lighter ones to shake. Sonic wondered in the back of his mind if this place was sound proof, or if Shadow was giving their location away, but he was surprised enough that the worry was pushed aside for the time being. "She's no worse here than she was out there! Do you honestly think that she had any kind of freedom or control when she wasn't here? That I'm taking away some kind of free will of hers? Nothing she's been doing since this mess has all started was of her own volition, Sonic." He swore under his breath, clenching his fists and slamming his eyes shut. His breaths deepened, and for once in his life, Sonic didn't want to interrupt or say anything. "When we found her, they had her in a library, reading medical encyclopedias. Her bed was next to the pile, Sonic – she hadn't done anything except for read about the human body for what seemed like days. When we staked her out, we never saw her move from that spot. Does that sound like Amy to you?"
Not really, Sonic thought. He couldn't voice the words aloud, but he knew that Amy was usually active and got bored relatively quickly. The idea of her locked away in a cold room, never moving away from a pile of reference material… the image was so foreign, he had a hard time believing it."
"Yes, she's restrained here. And yes, it's not a good situation. But at least here, she may yet have her own freedom again. Sonic, I think you know that if she had been asked and able to answer, she would want us to do this for her. She would want to be given the chance."
A whirring distracted the both of them, and the Doctor came over. "I think we're ready to show the rodent the fruits of our labor."
"Who are you calling a rodent?" Sonic mumbled, no fire in his words anymore. He was exhausted, the weight of the day's activities already pressing down on him. Hadn't it been less than an hour since he and Shadow were in a cave together, with nothing but the heat of their company and the subtle thrill of danger to keep them warm? Hadn't they been alone at last after nearly a month, able to finally share touches, kisses, gentle words? He shouldn't be wanting to be back in that cave right now, he knew – but he did. He wanted to have more than one moment – one freaking moment! – to be with Shadow. To not have to worry for more than five minutes about nanites, or ethical dilemmas, or saving the world. They deserved a rest. He deserved an explanation. They all deserved more time.
Instead, he was in a room full of creepy statues with one of his friends as a captive, Shadow was talking to his long time enemy like they were long time work collaborators, and he felt painfully out of the loop again. How was he going to explain this – any of this – to the Individuals? That Shadow went AWOL because he was working with the mad scientist who caused this problem in the first place? That the reason they both went missing was because they were doing some kind of hare brained suicide mission where they trapped one of the Taken? And then willingly stayed in close quarters with her?
There was a small object in the Doctor's hands. It looked like a bandage, with some strange form of microchip in the center. It had been a while since he saw anything like that – the Individuals stayed away from computers as much as possible to avoid potential tracking, and metal was hard to come by – but he supposed that if anybody was still making new mechanical inventions, it would be Egghead. He lifted the cover off of the bandage's adhesive, shifted Amy's spines off of her neck and, with the gentle care of an actual medical professional, secured it gently to the skin underneath. "Got to make sure she doesn't have a cut," he muttered, mostly to himself. "Wouldn't want her to absorb the metal and make the problem worse instead of better."
He came towards the generator and started to twist a dial on the attached radio device. As it turned, Shadow came closer to him and began to wrap his arms around his waist from behind. "You don't have to look at this if you don't want to," he said. His voice had an emotion in it that he couldn't quite place. Pity? Guilt? Tiredness? "I can cover your eyes or your ears and help you shield from it. Let you know what the outcome is."
Sonic looked at him soundly, not knowing what to think or feel. "Why would I need to cover my ears and eyes? What are you about to do?"
Shadow was about to speak, but the Doctor cut him off. "Simple. We are going to transmit a signal that will disrupt the communication between the nanites. The receiver on her skin will act as a conduit to the nanites in her body, rendering them unable to exchange information. Without that communication, in her body and with others, they'll be nothing more than dead weight."
"Yes, but what does that mean? Why would I not want to see or hear-"
Something clicked in the air – an almost palpable energy, one that he wouldn't have noticed if he wasn't paying attention. The dial hit what must have hit the right position. Sonic shifted his head around Shadow's body, his own tensing up immediately as Amy let out a deafening scream.
[AN: It's really been over a year, hasn't it? I wish I had a good explanation, but the fact of it is, I got stuck in a bad place and needed to climb my way out. I hope that the next parts of this are even slightly worth the wait. Thanks for your patience.]