The sun hadn't yet risen above the horizon when Shadow arose. Clouds made the sky darker than usual, but there was no need for Shadow to turn on his bedside lamp. His eyes adjusted to the darkness as he methodically swung his legs from the sheets onto the hardwood floors.

5:00 am marked the start of his daily routine.

He pulled up a brown set of trousers and yanked a gray sweater over his head. Clothing was just one thing he had particular trouble adjusting to. All of his garments were dull and functionally the same (and just as uncomfortable as usual). Flared sleeves did their job to cover the golden inhibitor rings around his wrists and ankles.

Shadow made his way down the hall to the bathroom and only now flicked a light on, taking in unruly black quills and red eyes. The slightest hint of burgundy glistened through layers of black dye. He frowned, knowing that tonight his bathtub would once again become a stained black mess.

He got right into taming the mane. Even frequent cuts and pluckings never seemed to last very long. But even short as they were presently, it took no less than five handfuls of gel and a generous amount of hairspray to lay them flat against his skull.

With seasoned ease, Shadow placed two dark brown lenses over his irises, blinking them into place. Finally, he put on a set of thick rimmed glasses.

He paused for a moment in the mirror. His look was not what one would expect of the ultimate life form, but that was exactly the way the ultimate life form liked it.

This leg of the routine took him nearly an hour and a half when he first started it, but today it was only 5:48 am when he entered his small kitchenette and brewed a cup of coffee. Newspapers covered the table and singular chair in the corner of the room, so he stood as he downed his coffee in several gulps. He dropped the mug in the sink and used his now free hand to fetch a gray cap, placing it atop his head. Finally, he pulled on a pair of worn steel-toed boots and exited his apartment at 6:00 am sharp. Shadow locked all three locks to his residence before heading down the stairs of the complex and out onto the street.

Villanelle was a town small enough to avoid a lot of big city bustle, but still significant enough to be touched by the hands of gentrification. However, tourists would not be awake yet, if there were even any at this point in the week.

Shadow didn't quite understand why he was supposed to hate Mondays. After all, Monday's were the day when the city was quietest, weekend visitors returning home from their vacation of window shopping, skiing, and expensive cafes.

Despite autumn chill and dreary weather, locals had already begun to leak into the streets, bundled up in coats and going on their way. Shadow offered a brief nod to neighbors and familiars who greeted him, but otherwise stayed tucked to the edge of the sidewalk, gaze lowered. He arrived at his destination ten minutes later: Marmotte Bookstore—a skinny hole in the wall with a chipped wooden sign. A bell at the top of the door alerted the occupant of the bookstore to his arrival.

"Ah, good morning, Henry." The elderly groundhog himself greeted Shadow, a stack of books threatening to topple over in his arms.

"Hi, Mr. Marmotte." Shadow replied, not missing a beat as he scooped the majority of the books from Marmotte. Before the groundhog could even adjust his eyeglasses, Shadow maneuvered the shelves and placed each book in their designated place.

Three familiar heads poked out between the shelves and shot for Shadow's legs, rubbing against his boots and mewing pathetically.

"Oh, look at 'em! You'd think they haven't been fed all their lives…" Marmotte threw up a hand in defeat.

Shadow's steely gaze softened slightly as he squatted down to pet the gray tabby, the other two cats enviously pushing and prodding for pets as well.

In this town, he was not Shadow the Hedgehog, ultimate lifeform and agent of destruction, but Henry. Henry worked for the aging owner of a bookstore. Henry's days were filled with nothing but a mahogany desk where he filled out order forms and rang up the occasional customer. The peak of excitement in Henry's life was sabotaging the attempts of the bookstore's three feline tenants from knocking over books in an impressive display of dominoes.

Henry was just your average unassuming, uninteresting, upstanding citizen. And if Shadow had it his way, he would like to remain as Henry for as long as possible.

As usual for Monday, Marmotte took his leave in the afternoon and Shadow was left alone. With the store currently empty, he elected to peruse through the "local" shelf, not entirely committed to a singular topic.

It had been almost 10 months since Shadow had deserted the military, and six months since he finally felt secure enough in his new life to catch up on all he had missed. The last time he was able to learn about this planet was over 55 years ago on the Space Colony ARK, and being suspended in animation for most of that meant he was far behind in his understanding of this society.

His first few months in Villenulle, he absorbed all the history books he could, learning about the world in broad strokes. Then, he moved onto more specific topics: economics, culture, geography, and so on.

He had done his fair share of research on Villenulle and the country it was located in, but like most topics he researched, there seemed to be a never-ending fountain of literature on the area. Shadow finally settled on a book about culture and myths tied to the country.

Legends of the Forest: Forgotten Histories of Orléanais.

It wasn't exactly the kind of book Shadow would usually read, but it's sharp and untouched appearance caught his eye. Sure enough, it turned out to be a new arrival written by a local historian.

Shadow skimmed through several chapters.

The Villenulle region was home to a variety of city states each ruled by a noble family. Little is known for certain about the nature of these strongholds due to a lack of written record, but it is speculated that relatives of the monarch of Orléanais ruled over the region up until the Revolution, which marked the execution of the Orléanan monarchy and led the larger population on a hunt for ruling class nobles. It is the lack of records in several of these settlements that have led some to question whether the region was ever under noble control. Others believe that the rulers of the primary citystate in present-day Villenulle were found and executed along with their compatriotes and that the records of the event were lost in the chaos, or that the family was able to hide their remaining and wealth and escape to Spagonia, a monarchy-friendly nation at the time. The latter theory has given rise to much myth and legend in the area about remnants of this supposed fortune, which according to the common version, resides as a needle in the haystack of the Nulle Forest surrounding the modern day city of Villenulle.

A ring of the bell interrupted Shadow's book. He glanced up through his wide rimmed glasses at someone he had never seen before.

Shadow had become keen at identifying tourists during his time at the bookstore, as they made up the majority of the customer-base. Most other visitors were regulars that Shadow had recognized many times over by now. But this person before him did not look like a tourist.

The stranger was a jackal with black fur and white hair pulled into a ponytail, but the first thing Shadow noticed was the crimson blade tucked into his belt.

The jackal was peering over the shelves before suddenly turning towards Shadow, who averted his gaze back to his book as if he hadn't been staring at all.

"Excuse me," the jackal spoke, an intense note to his voice. "Have any travel guides? A couple of buddies and I are in town for a few weeks and we'd like to do some sightseeing."

Shadow's eyes met the jackal's. He was smiling at him, but the glint of mischief in his eye was obvious to any observer. Wordlessly, Shadow pointed to the shelf containing local information.

The jackal craned his head in that direction and mouthed a thanks, eyes lingering on Shadow for only a moment before approaching the shelf. Shadow's eyes, in turn, stayed glued on him as he found what he came for and approached the counter. From up close, Shadow noticed the jackal appeared to have heterochromia. A white scar covered his right eye.

Shadow looked over the items: a guide of the surrounding ski and hiking trails and a couple of very standard local magazines. Shadow had lost track of how many times he had performed this exact transaction.

"Four dollars even is your total." Shadow finally spoke up. The jackal made slow methodical movements as he reached into the pocket of his coat.

"So, you get a lot of business here?"

Shadow mentally winced at the attempt at small talk. Maybe this was just a run of the mill vacationer.

"Enough."

"It's a nice place, I'm glad to see small businesses surviving in this economy." He sneered.

He held out four bills. Shadow reached an arm out and grabbed them, but the jackal did not release his grip. "You never know when a petty thief may try to ruin a place like this."

The jackal was staring at him more intensely now, an eyebrow cocked in amusement. Shadow somehow managed to ignore the impulse to tear the money away. Instead, he smiled, fully on autopilot.

"I wouldn't worry about that. This is a very safe city."

The jackal paused, seemingly taken aback by the hedgehog's sudden change of demeanor. But, to Shadow's relief, he broke eye contact and released his grip. "Good to know." He chuckled.

Shadow forced himself to not tense up as the jackal's hand slid down across the blade to place his wallet back into his pocket. He picked up his pamphlets and headed towards the door.

"Have a good one." The jackal grinned as he exited, raising a hand in farewell.

Shadow's gaze followed him across the street and watched as he joined another jackal on the other side. Together, the two then walked down the street out of view.

Shadow was alone in the bookstore once again.

Instinct told him something was wrong, but then again, was something really amiss with that interaction? As far as interactions with rude customers went, this didn't even make the top five. He had only made it this far in a life on the run from a skepticism bordering on cruel, but now, Shadow couldn't help but wonder if he was simply being paranoid.

A calico cat hopped onto his lap, as if sensing his spiking nerves. The action brought Shadow back from his spiraling thoughts and he started slightly, before stroking her gently.

For now, he would try to put the encounter at the back of his mind.