Shadow the Hedgehog opened his eyes to the blinding white lights above him. The sterile smell of antiseptic filled his nostrils, and the incessant beeping of a nearby machine echoed in his ears. His body felt heavy, sluggish, and for the first time in as long as he could remember, he was in pain. Real, sharp, biting pain.

He was lying in a bed, his arms restrained by several wires. Bandages wrapped tightly around his chest and abdomen, stained with blood. Blood. His blood. He gritted his teeth as he realized where he was.

GUN medical bay. A hospital.

The thought was enough to make his stomach churn. He had never needed a hospital before. He had been shot, stabbed, thrown off cliffs, and blasted through walls, but he was the Ultimate Lifeform. A handful of rings was usually enough to heal whatever injuries he sustained. His body could regenerate, adapt, survive. He was survival.

But not this time.

He tried to move, but his muscles screamed in protest. His head throbbed as he fought through the fogginess in his mind, trying to piece together what had happened.

The door slid open with a hiss, and a nurse walked in, clipboard in hand, her face bright and cheery. She was human, and Shadow immediately felt annoyance bubble up inside him. He hated hospitals. He hated being here, surrounded by these people who acted like they understood anything about him.

"Good morning, Mr. Shadow!" the nurse chirped, far too enthusiastically for his liking. "You're awake! That's great news! How are you feeling?"

Shadow's crimson eyes narrowed as he glared at her. He didn't answer. She didn't deserve an answer. He wasn't feeling anything right now except for the overwhelming urge to get out of this place. He wasn't weak. He wasn't fragile. He wasn't like them.

The nurse, oblivious to his inner turmoil, continued. "You've been through quite the ordeal. Five bullets, two near your heart, one in your lung. The doctors are amazed you're even awake right now. But I suppose we shouldn't be surprised—after all, you are the Ultimate Lifeform!" She smiled. As if that was supposed to make him feel better.

Shadow's grip tightened around the edges of the blanket. Five bullets. He remembered now—he and Sonic had been assigned by GUN to escort Princess Blaze while she was visiting from her dimension. He had protested, of course. Blaze didn't need their help. She was more than capable of handling herself. But GUN insisted, and Sonic, ever the enthusiastic hero, had agreed.

Shadow hadn't liked it. He didn't like being a glorified bodyguard. He didn't need to be a bodyguard. Blaze, with her pyrokinesis and regal confidence, didn't need him either—or so he had thought.

Then, out of nowhere, the attack had come. Shadow could still hear the crack of gunfire, the hiss of bullets cutting through the air. He had moved to intercept them, knowing that Sonic could handle the enemies on the ground. But somehow, in the chaos, he had been hit.

Hard.

The first bullet grazed his shoulder, but the next one hit him straight in the chest. He had been able to dodge most of them, but the gunmen had been fast, relentless, and disturbingly accurate. The final bullet lodged itself dangerously close to his heart, and even though he had felt the familiar surge of energy when he grabbed for his rings, something had gone terribly wrong.

Those gunmen were toast now, of course. Sonic had made sure of that. But somehow, Shadow had been left—vulnerable.

And now, here he was, trapped in a hospital bed, his body refusing to heal the way it should. His mind raced, trying to make sense of it all. How had this happened? How had they gotten the best of him?

"Mr. Shadow?" The nurse's voice cut through his thoughts like nails on a chalkboard. She had approached his bedside, her hand hovering over one of the machines monitoring his vital signs. "I know this must be frustrating, but we're doing everything we can to get you back on your feet. Just try to relax. You're safe now."

Safe? Shadow nearly laughed at the absurdity of the word. Safe was not something he ever felt. Not in a hospital, not in the field, not anywhere. He wasn't meant to be safe. He was meant to be strong. Invincible. The Ultimate Lifeform didn't need safety.

He needed out.

The nurse, sensing his agitation, hesitated. "I'll—uh, I'll leave you to rest for now," she said quickly, backing toward the door. "But if you need anything, just press the call button."

When the door slid shut behind her, Shadow exhaled slowly, his chest aching with the effort. Alone at last. But the silence wasn't comforting. It was suffocating.

He clenched his fists, forcing his mind to recall every detail of the attack. He hadn't seen the gunmen until it was too late. Their bullets were faster than he expected, more precise than usual. They had known where to aim—his vital areas, places where even his enhanced healing couldn't keep up.

How did they know?

He struggled to sit up, but his strength wasn't fully back yet. His body felt foreign, weak. He cursed under his breath. He wasn't going to stay here. He wasn't going to let these humans poke and prod at him like he was some kind of experiment.

The door slid open again, and he tensed, expecting the nurse. But it wasn't her.

It was Sonic.

"Well, well, look who's awake!" Sonic grinned, leaning casually against the doorframe, arms crossed. His blue fur was a little singed, and there were bandages on his arms, but otherwise, he looked fine. "You gave us quite the scare back there, Shadow."

Shadow glared at him, the words heavy in his throat. "I don't need your concern, Sonic."

Sonic raised an eyebrow, stepping closer to the bed. "Yeah? Well, maybe you don't need it, but you've got it anyway. You almost didn't make it, y'know."

Shadow growled low in his throat. "I'm not weak."

"I know that," Sonic said, his voice softer now. "But those shots… They weren't normal. We've got to figure out what happened."

Shadow clenched his fists tighter. Sonic was right. Something was wrong. Those gunmen weren't ordinary enemies. They were prepared for him, and they had nearly succeeded.

For the first time in a long while, Shadow felt something unfamiliar coil in his chest.

Doubt.

"I'm getting out of here," Shadow muttered, his eyes gleaming with determination.

Sonic smirked, nodding toward the machines hooked up to Shadow's body. "Good luck with that, tough guy. The docs said you're supposed to stay put for at least a week."

Shadow scoffed, shifting his legs off the bed, despite the searing pain in his side. "I'm leaving. With or without their permission."

Sonic sighed, shaking his head. "Yeah, that's what I figured you'd say." He turned toward the door, pausing before glancing back. "Just… take it easy, alright? We'll figure this out. Together."

With that, Sonic was gone, leaving Shadow alone once more.

But this time, the silence wasn't suffocating. It was electric.

He had been beaten, yes. But this wasn't over.

Not even close.