The elevator doors slid shut, muffling the constant rattle of gurney wheels. Shadow gazed at the directory on the LED screen above the elevator buttons. The sharp, white text swam in his vision.

'I must confess, I was surprised that you would volunteer for something like this,' Iain said.

'I didn't.'

'Pardon?'

Shadow leaned against one of the walls of the elevator cage, resting one hand on the metal railing and crossing one foot over the other. 'This wasn't my idea. I'm only here because GUN is using both me and your hospital for a publicity stunt.'

'Well, we're still happy to have you.'

Shadow narrowed his eyes. 'Let's see if you still feel the same way after a week.'

'You seem to have reservations. Is there something I should be concerned about?'

Shadow looked through the glass panels of the elevator cage, out over the atrium at the heart of the hospital's sprawling labyrinth of corridors. 'You should be concerned about the fact that GUN fired a shot in the dark when they sent me here.' He raised one hand, gripping a handful of the medals on his jacket until he felt their familiar bite against his palm.

'Hm. You know, medicine has come a long way since the 50s.'

Shadow tensed, and his fur stood on end. 'Come again?'

Iain seemingly ignored his reaction and said, 'When I was a child, our most pressing concerns were polio, lung cancer and infectious diseases. Yet there were a talented few who still dared to reach further … to reach for the stars.'

Shadow froze.

'Professor Gerald's work wasn't public knowledge back then, but it certainly is now. I was alive during the time of Space Colony Ark, Shadow.' Iain knotted his fingers around the handle of his cane. 'Though you could probably have guessed as much by looking at me.'

Shadow let go of the handrail and his medals, tightly crossing his arms. '… If you know anything about the professor's work, then you should have realised that GUN was expecting the impossible when they sent me to you.'

'People expect the impossible from doctors all the time. And even though you were sent here, you still chose to come, didn't you?'

'Against my better judgement.'

'What? Don't you believe that you deserve a second chance?'

Shadow's hand twitched. The people he had loved the most in the world hadn't been given second chances. The firing squad hadn't given Gerald a second chance. The soldier who shot Maria hadn't given her a second chance. Gerald had been executed before he could save his granddaughter, and Maria had been killed before she had a chance to truly live.

What was the point in having a thousand lifetimes of second chances … when he would never get another chance to save the person he had loved the most?

'I don't believe in anything,' Shadow said, and his voice was sharper than broken glass. 'I don't believe in miracles. I don't believe GUN has your best interests in mind. And I don't believe I'll be able to help your patients.' The elevator doors slid open, and Shadow strode out. 'Medicine may come a long way since the 50s, but I haven't.'

'I can see that.'

Shadow stopped so suddenly that the heel of his shoe left a metallic red streak on the linoleum. He pivoted back around, every muscle coiled, baring a thin sliver of teeth. 'What?'

Iain limped over to him, and the elevator began to descend once again. 'No matter how many decades pass, some illnesses will still remain incurable. And whether you've come a long way or not, some wounds simply don't … heal.' Iain's eyes widened behind his silver-rimmed glasses. 'Oh no. I'm just hearing how that would have sounded. I'm sorry. So much for a bedside manner, eh?'

Shadow unclenched his fists and let his shoulders drop. 'No, I …' He looked away. 'I've been in the military for more than five years. It's rare to find myself in situations where hair-trigger reactions aren't … necessary.'

Iain shrugged and limped forward, ushering Shadow along with his cane. 'Five years, and you've already got the full monty there,' he said, gesturing to the medals on Shadow's uniform. 'I'm shocked you managed to squeeze us into your schedule.'

'Hmph.'

They passed through another set of double doors, and Shadow came face to face with a blue-lettered sign on the wall in front of him. Cancer Care Ward. He took a step backwards, and the doors hit him in the back as they fell shut. 'Are we in the right place?'

Iain gave him a sympathetic look. 'What were you expecting?'

'I … I thought that I'd be working with your immunology department.'

For the first time since they'd met, Iain was temporarily lost for words. '… You poor chap. They really picked you up by an arm and a leg and threw you in the deep end of the swimming pool, didn't they?'

Shadow cleared his throat. 'That is how GUN operates, more or less.'

Well, I can see why you would be confused. I know that you have prior experience with immunodeficiency disorders … NIDS, to be exact.'

Shadow nodded stiffly. To everyone else, Maria's illness was just a four-letter acronym. But for him, those four letters stood for the four years that he had spent on the Ark –countless wheelchair rides, blood transfusions and failed tests.

'There are a lot of departments that want to work with you, Shadow, but we need you here the most.'

'Meaning?'

'Cancer affects people's immune systems. It damages their bone marrow and compromises their blood. With your help – with your blood – we might be able to help patients who have already tried everything that they can.'

Shadow avoided his gaze and glanced around. He could hear the clicking of a keyboard behind the cancer care ward's reception desk. There must be a waiting room nearby, because he could hear the faint background noise of a TV.

A metallic gleam caught his eye, and he turned to see a small, golden bell hanging from the wall. He'd heard about this – patients would often ring a bell at the end of their cancer treatment. It was a fleeting thought, but for a moment, he wondered if he would get to hear the bell ring before he left.

Shadow cleared his throat. 'Do you have any patients named Tower here?'

'Are you talking about Commander Tower's grandchild?'

'Yes.' Shadow shifted his weight from one foot to the other and asked, 'Do you know what part of the hospital he's in …' But then he saw the look on Iain's face and trailed off.

'Shadow, I'm … taking you to him.'

The blue letters spelling out 'cancer' on the sign in front of them came into sharp, vivid focus. Shadow's ears flattened against his head. Memories from the past few days flashed through his mind.

When he had been presented with the PR department's proposal, Abraham had rejected it and taken Shadow's side, even though he knew there was a chance that it could help his family. And even now, Abraham was trying to hold GUN together even as it came apart at the seams, all while his grandchild lay dying in hospital. Yet Shadow had needled him and fought with him tooth-and-nail over the most pointless, trivial things – the medals, the confiscated weapons, and the press conferences.

'Why didn't he tell me?' Shadow whispered.

But he already knew the answer. There were very few people that Shadow listened to … and Abraham wasn't one of them. And who would want to open up to someone who never listened?

'Maybe he didn't want to influence your decision,' Iain said.

'… That's a charitable assessment.' Shadow heard his own voice as though it were someone else speaking. He sounded dazed.

'I'm sorry, Shadow. I know this must be a lot to take in.'

'It's nothing.' Shadow adjusted his wrist guards and straightened his jacket. 'We're wasting time – if not mine, then yours. Let's go.'

Iain observed him for a moment. Then he shook his head and hobbled off, pushing open yet another set of double doors with his cane. 'All right. We'll need you to take more precautions than an average visitor. We know you can't transmit illness, but we still have to eliminate external contaminants.'

Shadow rolled his eyes and pulled off his gloves, walking over to the nearest handwashing station. The stench of antiseptic permeated the hall. He turned the tap on, and frigid water cascaded over his bare hands.

He heard Maria's voice whispering in his ear, like a ghost. Twenty seconds! Just sing 'happy birthday' twice …

He splashed water on his face and looked up. But this time, there was no reflection to condemn him. There were only shadows on the wall – his and a female silhouette.

A nurse walked into his field of view and set a plastic tub down beside him. 'Here. For your things.'

Shadow tore his eyes away from the shadow that she had cast beside his own. He blinked. 'I'm sorry?'

'Jacket, shoes, gloves, rings. Don't worry, you'll get them back.'

Shadow turned to face her, and water dripped from his hands, splashing onto his shoes. 'I can't take my rings off.'

'Why? Are you concerned that they'll get lost?'

'I'm concerned that I'll explode and die if I'm not wearing them.'

'I beg your pardon?'

Iain shook his head. 'Nurse? Bring us one of the ultrasonic cleaners, please.'

'The ones for cleaning surgical instruments?'

'The ones for cleaning metal. Chop chop.' The nurse raced off, and Iain leaned against the wall beside the sink. He tapped his cane on the ground. 'All right, what are we dealing with?'

'They're inhibitor rings.' Shadow shrugged off his jacket and dropped it in the tub, baring the scar on his back. The medals hit the plastic with a loud clatter, and he threw his wrist guards in as well. 'Just because I can physically remove them doesn't mean that I should.'

'In your case, you may not have to,' Iain said. The nurse came back with an ultrasonic cleaner and set it down on the counter beside them, plugging it into the wall. 'But we wouldn't normally recommend this, because –'

Shadow plunged his hands into the tray, beneath the water's surface. It felt like hundreds of needles were stabbing his skin.

'… Because prolonged exposure at high frequencies can cause damage to skin and joint tissue.'

After a moment, Shadow pulled his hands out. The rings were faintly scratched after years of use, but now they shone like mirrors. 'I heal quickly.'

'So I've heard.'

Shadow picked up the ultrasonic cleaner and set it on the ground. He pulled off his shoes with one sharp twist after another and stepped into the tray, gritting his teeth. 'This better be worth it.'

'Most of the patients in this ward are immunocompromised. What if you removed the rings one at a time, and –'

'Too slow.' Shadow stepped out and shook himself dry. The nurse passed him a respiratory protective mask and opened the door of the decontamination cubicle next to the sink. He stepped inside and slammed the door shut before she even had the chance to explain what she wanted him to do. He held the mask to his face and closed his eyes, counting the seconds as he listened to the roar of the pressurised vacuum.

He'd done this before. Everyone on the Ark had been required to decontaminate constantly for Maria's sake, and they'd used similar equipment. Maria had used to wait for him outside the cubicle, pressing her hands against the glass. One time, he'd found her sitting inside, giggling as she used the industrial-grade vacuum to blowdry her hair.

A sudden silence washed over him. He opened the door and stepped out … but this time, she wasn't waiting on the other side.

He shook his head and reached for his shoes, but someone had already placed them in the container with his uniform.

'You need to leave those here,' Iain said. 'Don't worry, it's not far.'

'But …' Shadow tried to keep his expression blank, but his voice was strained. 'They're a type of mobility aid. I don't even know if I can walk without them.'

Iain raised his eyebrows. 'Oh. I see. We can get you a wheelchair if you like.'

'That's not necessary,' Shadow snapped.

He turned and began to walk down the hall, but he didn't even make it two steps – because they weren't even steps to begin with. Even though he knew he had to walk, his muscle memory told him to skate. He tried to stop, but he didn't have the thrusters at the front of his shoes to cancel his momentum. He dug in his claws, slamming one hand against the wall to keep his balance.

Maria had often had to use a wheelchair while she was alive. Sometimes, she hadn't been able to walk straight, see straight or even think straight. She could have designed mobility aids for herself, but she had always asked Shadow to push her wheelchair instead. She'd had perfect confidence that she would be cured one day.

If Gerald's research had been successful, then Maria would no longer have had to use a wheelchair. She would still be by his side. She had designed his shoes, but she'd had no way of knowing that one day, they would never be able to walk alongside each other again.

'… I don't need a wheelchair,' Shadow said. He let go of the wall, leaving faint scratches behind. 'Just … give me a minute.'

Metal glinted in the corner of his eye, and Shadow looked up to see Iain offering him his cane. 'I'm sorry about this, son. I didn't know.'

'The specifications of my equipment aren't public knowledge.' Shadow took another step forward and nearly overbalanced. 'If there's an emergency, I need to have my equipment – or have access to it, at least.'

'I'll ask our team to look for a way to decontaminate your shoes without damaging them.' Iain spread his hands helplessly. 'But for some of our high-risk patients, you may only be able to wear your rings.'

Suddenly, Shadow heard Abraham's voice, but it wasn't coming from his earpiece. The hallway led past a small waiting room, and above the rows of chairs was a wall-mounted TV playing the morning news.

Shadow came to a standstill, confronted by the sight of Abraham standing behind a podium. Camera flashes reflected off of the commander's medals, stinging Shadow's eyes.

A female reporter leaned forward, and Shadow recognised the auburn sheen of Scarlet's bobbed hair. 'Commander Tower, has GUN identified any suspects related to the terror attack that took place at the organisation's headquarters?'

'We are currently locating and questioning suspects related to the case. We will reveal the results of our investigation once it has concluded.'

'Does GUN have an official stance on the recent protests?' a journalist asked.

Abraham's gaze flickered. 'GUN respects the rights of citizens to protest peacefully. But we will not tolerate any attempts to glorify GUN's past conduct or revive the organisation's former ideals. ' His expression darkened, and Shadow caught a glimpse of the man who had tried to kill him years ago. 'There is also a clear line between protest and terror. Individuals who cross that line will be apprehended and prosecuted.'

'In light of the recent attack … Is GUN continuing to take steps to disavow their former actions?'

'Yes.' Abraham hesitated. 'I knew the girl whose likeness was appropriated by these terrorists. She was the youngest victim of GUN's crimes aboard Space Colony Ark. She was like a sister to me.' He cleared his throat. 'Her name was Maria Robotnik.'

The silence stretched like a thread about to snap. After a moment, Abraham spoke in a neutral tone. 'GUN is committed to ensuring that history doesn't repeat itself. We also want to ensure that Maria's legacy isn't forgotten … which is why Agent Shadow is currently working in partnership with the Central City Children's Hospital on GUN's behalf.'

A beat passed. Then a flurry of questions erupted from the press, and Abraham had to shield his eyes from a barrage of camera flashes.

If it wasn't for the fact that he could barely walk, Shadow would have lunged across the room and put his fist through the TV screen.

Even though he might resent Abraham's decision, he could understand why GUN would reveal the program to the press while it was still ongoing. The longer Shadow stayed at the hospital, the more people would notice his presence. If GUN wasn't transparent about why he was there, then rumours would spread, and concern would begin to grow … and neither he nor GUN could afford additional scrutiny right now.

A nurse swiftly walked over to the television, casting a concerned glance at the alarmed parents and confused children sitting in the waiting room. She picked up the TV remote and changed the channel. The news broadcast abruptly cut out and was replaced with a children's cartoon about a Chao Garden. The theme song played, and the whimsical notes of a music box rang in his ears.

Shadow strode off, placing one foot after the other. His anger gave his steps the weight they needed to help him keep his balance. He might understand Abraham's reasoning, but that didn't mean he had to like it. The more people that knew Shadow was at the hospital, the more of a security risk it became. People would start watching him. And some people would do more than just watch –

'Shadow.'

Shadow halted, digging his claws into the linoleum. 'What?'

Iain limped over to him and tapped the room number on the door of the room that Shadow had stopped beside. The patient's name was written beside the room number. Elijah Tower.

'We're already here?'

'I told you it wasn't far. Do you need more time?'

Shadow faltered. 'We don't … have time.'

'All right. Well, this is as far as I can go,' Iain said. We'll be sending a phlebotomist in shortly to draw your blood and perform the first transfusion. We'll also be holding a grand rounds meeting to discuss the patients you'll be working with. I'll come back and get you before we start.'

'A meeting? Do I even need to be there?'

Iain laughed. 'No. But if GUN didn't have the courtesy to tell you what you were getting yourself into, then we'll afford that courtesy to you instead.'

Shadow nodded. Then he slipped through the door, closed it behind him and leaned against it. Then he closed his eyes and exhaled.

He had all the time in the world, yet he felt like he didn't even have time to breathe.

The only sound in the room was the faint beeping of a monitor. Then a small voice said, 'I thought you had rocket skates.'

Shadow's eyes snapped open. 'They're air shoes.'

The boy sitting in the hospital bed couldn't have been more than six years old. He was pale, covered in bruises, and dwarfed by the machines and medical equipment around him.

'… Did you lose them?'

'Lose what?'

'The shoes.'

'No.'

'Oh. I lost my shoes at the park once.'

'… Right.' Shadow shook his head and stepped forward, but the moment he did, the boy shrank back and hid behind a pillow. Shadow stopped in his tracks. 'You don't remember me, do you … Elijah?'

The boy peeked over the pillow. 'No.'

Shadow slowly walked forward, one step at a time. 'I doubt that you would. I met you when you were born.'

'Granddad talks about you a lot.' Elijah lowered the pillow. His skin was leached of colour, but his eyes still lit up when he smiled. 'He tells me bedtime stories about Agent Shadow and Agent Rouge saving the world from the bad guys.' He leaned forward. One of his eyes was brown, and the other was blue. 'Are those stories true?'

Shadow rested one hand on the bed, fighting back a surge of emotion he didn't know how to describe. 'He may have changed a few details.'

'Is the robot's name really Omega?'

'Yes.'

'Did you and Rouge really fight aliens?'

'Yes.'

'Were you really Granddad's friend when he was growing up?'

Shadow's eyes widened slightly. 'I …'

At that moment, the door opened. Lindsey, Abraham's daughter-in-law, stumbled into the room. She was clad in a surgical gown, and she held a face mask in her hand.

Her gaze was unfocused. But the moment she saw Shadow leaning over Elijah, she sprang forward, lunging for Shadow's throat.

Shadow swiftly stepped aside and grabbed her arm, twisting it behind her back to immobilise her. She tried to break free, but he pulled her down to his height and spoke under his breath, using his body to block Elijah's view. 'Stop it. You're going to scare your son.'

He let Lindsey go, and she stumbled back, falling into a nearby chair.

'Mom? What happened? Are you okay?'

'I'm fine, sweetheart.' Lindsey stared into the middle distance. 'I didn't … recognise you, Shadow.'

Shadow leaned against the edge of the bed and crossed his arms. 'I gathered that. What has it been? Six years?'

'Mm.' Lindsey bit one of her nails. All of them were already bitten down to the quick. 'Six years.'

But they both knew that it wasn't just about how much time had passed. When he and Lindsey had first met, he'd shown up on her front porch in a military uniform with a holstered gun on his hip. While he may have unnerved her, at least he'd been … presentable. This time, she had walked into the room only to be confronted by the sight of a dark, clawed figure standing over her son.

'Didn't you know I was coming here?' Shadow asked.

'No, I knew. I knew. I was just …' Her expression twisted. '… I was taken aback.'

Elijah rolled his eyes. 'Really, Mom?'

Lindsey gave him a sharp look and said, 'Watch your tone.'

'What?' Elijah shot back. 'You've always said you've never liked him.'

Lindsey froze. Shadow narrowed his eyes and began to tap his finger on his forearm. 'Thankfully, my ability to help your son isn't contingent on your opinion of me whether you like me or not. I don't give a damn what you think of me –'

'Elijah?' Lindsey said. 'Time for headphones.'

'But –'

Lindsey shook her head and held up one finger. 'Headphones. Now.'

Elijah grumbled under his breath and pulled on a pair of blue over-ear headphones. Shadow leaned forward, blocking Elijah's view of his mother. Once he heard the faint sound of music, Shadow tapped one finger on his own wrist, where most people would wear a watch. 'Tell me what your damn problem is, or hold it in until I leave at the end of the week.'

'I don't have a problem with you, Shadow,' Lindsey said wearily. 'But my father-in-law did. He blamed you for his parents' deaths for 50 years. He may have changed his mind about you, but only after he told us you were a monster for our entire lives. All of it irrevocably changed our family … and for what?'

'At least your family is still alive.' Lindsey stiffened, but Shadow leaned forward and glared at her. 'I'm not saying that Abraham's choices didn't affect you, or you wouldn't still be obsessing over it. But he was a victim, as were all of us. If anyone is to blame for what you and your family have been through, it's GUN.'

'I wasn't there 50 years ago, Shadow.' Lindsey blinked several times and cleared her throat. 'I've only ever known GUN under Abraham's command. If I blame GUN, then I'll just feel like I'm still blaming him for what happened to our family.'

'Your feelings are clouding your judgement. But if you have to blame someone, then blame me instead.' Shadow lowered his gaze and said. 'If I hadn't existed, then none of this would have ever happened –'

'Believe me, I want to blame you. It would make this so much easier,' Lindsey said, and her voice cracked. 'But my father-in-law wasted 50 years of his life holding a grudge against the wrong person … and if I choose to do the same, then everything he put us through will have been for nothing.'

Shadow glanced up. Lindsey's eyes were watering, and she was digging her fingernails into her palms. 'Get a hold of yourself.'

'W-What?'

Shadow picked up a tissue box from a table beside the bed and threw it at her, hitting her in the chest. 'If you can't put your past behind you, then at least put it aside. Your son needs you, damn it. I don't care who you want to blame for what happened. But if you still see me as a monster … then just don't pretend otherwise.'

Lindsey stared at him in shock, holding the tissue box in her hands. Over the course of the conversation, she had looked everywhere but directly at him. At his shoulder, at his wrist, at the edge of his quills. But for the first time, she finally looked him in the eyes.

The door swung open, and a doctor entered the room, wearing a surgical gown and a face mask. She wheeled an IV pole alongside her, and empty blood bags hung from it. Elijah pulled his headphones off and leaned forward to see what was going on. The doctor glanced at her clipboard. 'Agent … Shadow?'

He gave her an unimpressed look. 'About damn time.'

'Well, you're a feisty one, aren't you?' She walked over. 'I'm the Chief of Phlebotomy here at the hospital.'

'… In other words, we're going to be stuck with each other for the next week.'

She held up a needle, and he could see her smile behind her mask. 'Someone told me that they thought you would make a more durable blood donor than most. Well? Shall we find out?'