I do what I can to calm myself in the time I'm left waiting. Slow, deep breaths lower my heart rate and help to clear my mind while I've got a minute to think. The library... that must be where the hedgehog is, 'rewarding' himself with a book like Robotnik said. So, my assignment starts today, while I'm still suffering on an empty stomach. Eggman's interrogation distracted me from it, but now the growling of my middle is painfully loud. The hunger is hurting me. It feels like there's a barren pit in my body, screaming even more after I used some of my dwindling energy to put up a facade of strength in the Doctor's presence.

How am I going to face my nemesis when the weakness of my physical form is starting to get to me? It'll be difficult to act like I'm holding myself together. I'm also worried my crankiness will get me in trouble, because it'll be harder to control my mouth if I can't stay focused on surviving. I just hope my mind doesn't fog while I'm stuck with him. I close my eyes to relax a little more and preserve a tiny bit of the sparse energy I have left. It's all I can do for the time being...

A brief series of whimsical beeps rings out behind me and the robot that's been designated to escort me out of here approaches. It rolls on wheels, a spindly android with a disk-shaped head and proper hands. The first thing it does is produce a pair of silver cuffs from its chest compartment, snapping each one onto my arms above the straps that tie me down. The cord that connects them is long, but I can feel it tugging my arms towards each other. Then, the thing works to unstrap my wrist, and I get the impulsive urge to try a command.

"Activate function: System Override."

It doesn't stop unstrapping me, but one of the circles on top of its head flashes on in a bright red color, and the robot emits a long monotone note that tells me I've been rejected. The sound keeps going, making me cringe when it starts to ring in my ears. "Okay, I get it!"

The noise fades out and the one circle turns back to gray. So, that little trick doesn't work anymore. He really did learn from his mistakes. It was worth a shot, at least. Once my wrist is free from the leather, the handcuff's cord quickly retracts as it's been trying to this whole time, bringing my hand against the other. When I try to tug it away, I can't – the cuff is securely stuck to its partner. Damnit, the Doctor thought of everything! I'm not exactly surprised, but it's frustrating. My quick wit doesn't do me much good if I'm thwarted before I can even act.

My other wrist is released, and I think about trying to knock the metal minion around; see how fortified it is against my attacks. But I think better of it. I'm in no shape to be attacking anything. And besides, the thing might have security measures in place, either a counterattack that would be bad for me or an alarm of some kind to signal it's being battered. I can't risk that. And just when I think I could possibly run, fly away once my legs are free, it produces a second pair of cuffs to snap around one of my ankles.

The other side, it attaches to its skinny 'body,' just above the foundation that carries its wheels, so now I'm stuck to it as well. I sigh out loud, thoroughly exasperated at the brain power I just used for nothing. I suppose I should assume, for now, that I won't get any kind of opening to escape. Normally, I'd want to be as aware as possible, but... with no fuel to keep me on top of my game, it's becoming a headache to think so much. When the robot beeps again, I stand up and follow it to the exit.

I'm led out of the interrogation room, needing a second to readjust my eyes to the brighter light of the red and gold corridor, then the scrawny bot escorts me through a series of turns down multiple hallways. There's more doors to unknown rooms, but I don't see a single vent along any of the walls, until we turn down a hall that I assume leads to the library. There's a big door at the end made of light brown wood, with fancy carvings etched into it; and right above it, a metal square with horizontal grates.

Finally, a glimmer of hope! I have to bide my time until I can find an opportunity to get to it. I just hope that chance comes sooner rather than later. I steel myself as we approach the door, squaring my shoulders and subduing my expression into neutrality. Unfortunately, I can't do anything about the audible growling of my stomach. But I'll just have to deal with it and hold out a little longer. If Eggman wants me to keep his pet company, he'll have to feed me eventually.

The door is opened, and I see him: the Ultimate Lifeform standing by a tall bookcase, peering up at a row of books higher than his eyeline. He's still dressed in his posh attire. I guess that's just what he wears when he isn't outside destroying things on Robotnik's behalf. The clothes are so elegant, if not for the wicked being in them. It reminds me how grimy I feel, still wearing my favorite outfit from the day I was captured and wishing I could wash myself. Shadow's part of the reason I lost that luxury. He turns to look at me and he's already got a smirk on his face.

His red eyes meet mine while the minion unsnaps the handcuffs from my wrists and ankles. They aren't needed here, when the hedgehog in front of me is more capable than anybody of stopping me from escaping; especially with how frail I feel. I hate that, but I have to face the facts if I'm going to avoid being tortured or roboticized. Overconfidence will hinder me here... although my enemy seems to be full of it, judging by his expression. I drag my gaze away from his, giving none of my own feelings away.

Once I'm released from my shackles, the robot leaves without a single beep, trapping me with the devilish animal in a room full of books. The space itself isn't impressively huge, but three of the four walls are completely lined with shelves, all flush with each other and boasting hundreds of novels. Closest to me are two plush armchairs sitting on either side of the room, perfect for reading. And the lighting is a warm orange to give off the illusion of a cozy atmosphere. I would've loved to admire a room like this in better circumstances. Nothing is cozy about it here.

Shadow finally opens his mouth to speak and takes slow steps towards me. "It's good to see you have decent self-preservation skills. It would've been too soon if The Doctor decided to do away with you before I could have sufficient time to taunt you myself."

"So, he told you I'm forced to be your nanny?" I ask, thinking Robotnik must've done so in the time I was left waiting. "And that I'm expected to teach you how to socialize like a person?"

His expression is surprisingly humorous when he draws nearer. His smile is less evil, and he starts fiddling with the shirt sleeve tucked under his inhibitor ring. "I would hardly consider you the nanny when you're the one who must be watched at all times. But, yes, he did brief me on the arrangement."

The closer he gets, the more the hairs on my neck stand up. I have the instinct to cross my arms when he stops just a few feet away from me, holding myself tightly as if it will keep me safe. We've hardly ever been in each other's presence without launching into battle. But at least I know I'm not likely to be attacked when the situation is what it is. As long as I don't get on their bad side – do enough of my task to not be considered useless, and don't get caught sneaking around – I probably won't be in immediate danger.

He says, "You might as well learn not to be so tense here. I know it's more difficult for you lesser lifeforms to manage that when you're uncomfortable, but you'll only suffer if you can't figure out some form of respite."

"Look at you, giving me advice," I reply with weak contempt. My stomach growls and I drop my arms to wrap around my middle, still staring him down. "I'll feel how I want, thanks."

He shrugs, his eyes closing briefly while his natural glower pulls into a deeper frown. He doesn't seem satisfied when he looks me in the eye again... good!

"Suit yourself, spy."

He turns his back on me, and I wish I could punch him in the head. I've done it before; on the rare occasion I got the drop on him. But I contain myself pretty easily, because just the thought of throwing a punch seems tiring right now. Shadow returns to his shelf and raises one hand to graze the spines of various books.

"We can worry about lessons later," he claims. "For now, I've got a novel I'm in the middle of, and I'd like to read a few more chapters while I have the time."

I watch him hook a finger onto a dark blue book and pull it out of the collection. Feeling lethargic, I ask dully, "So, I just wait around? Why don't you let me go exploring until you're done?"

His frown perks up into a smirk. It's weird to see him so calm and tolerant of my comments. Normally, he would've snarled at me to shut my mouth before he shut it for me. That was a classic line when I'd gotten under his skin. But here? It's like he's fine with it...

"Funny," leaves his lips, just loud enough for me to hear.

Okay, now I'm confused and a little creeped out. This isn't the 'Ultimate Lifeform' I've come to know; his attitude is way too passive. He turns to me again, holding the chunky book, and gestures to the other shelves. "Feel free to occupy yourself. There are many different stories of different comprehension levels available."

He scans the next nearest bookcase with his blood-colored eyes. "Even if your literary prowess is lacking, there's plenty here to kill time with."

Lacking literary prowess? He isn't implying my reading skills are poor, is he? Pompous jerk...

He takes a thin book from the shelf and points the cover my way – a young human lady looking up at a tall hairy creature, the pair of them colored like a classical painting. "You might enjoy this one. It's a short read and a classic fairytale. Easily digestible."

That's Beauty and the Beast... this bastard thinks I'm too uncultured to know Beauty and the Beast?! My head clouds with aggravation, so I clench my teeth together to speak without letting my anger get the best of me, though I'm sure he can tell how offended I am. "I'm familiar with Beauty and the Beast. How insulting can you be?"

His smile fades and he puts the book back. "I was being considerate and choosing something I thought you would like. You could be a tad grateful."

I let out a huff through my nose – I can't believe this guy! And I can't believe how much my voice is dragging... "And why would you be so quick to choose that story for me? Is that some sort of joke about my imprisonment? Because you certainly are a beast, but nothing like the original creature. He was actually kind."

I realize too late I shouldn't have let that insult slip, but I don't try to take it back. I'm starting to feel like I'm running on autopilot, which means I don't have the energy to backpedal. If being too truthful gets me in trouble... well, nothing I can do now that it's out. If it angers him, no amount of apologizing will change that.

His eyelids lower and he simply drags his red gaze to mine while raising his nose in the air. And I don't know if it's my perception failing me, but I think I hear a teasing lilt in his tone when he responds, "You're misassuming things, Rouge. I didn't make that connection at all. I was only suggesting a classic tale."

Then he looks down at his book and I mumble, "Maybe that can be your first lesson: how not to be a condescending ass..."

"Whatever your taste, you should find something. I guarantee we have options you'll like." He looks my way and approaches again, this time walking up to the nearby armchair. "Trust me, we will be here a while."

'Trust me.' That's an ironic phrase to use.

Sitting on the plush leather, he crosses one leg over the other and opens his book. He isn't looking at me anymore, immersing himself into whatever imaginary world he's chosen to distract him for now. Studying this calmer version of the Experiment, you wouldn't think he's attacking and imprisoning people on the daily. He looks like a rich man wiling his day away with literature, content to ignore the problems of the outside world; as if he isn't causing so many of them. Robotnik may be the one pulling the strings, but Shadow has committed atrocities, too. After glaring at him for a bit, I see the hedgehog crack another smile, the small curve of his lip barely noticeable. Must be a good book.

Fine. I relent to his suggestion, looking through the novels for something worthwhile. A revenge story would be nice right now. And when I find one, I sit in the only other chair available, lounging sideways on it so I can lean on the arms, with the added benefit of not facing my captor. I don't know how much of the plot I'll actually absorb, with a headache growing stronger in my temples, but the only other thing I could do here is take a nap. And no way in hell am I letting my guard down that much. This is all far from an ideal arrangement, but unfortunately for me, I'm not holding most of the cards here. My enemies are.

And I'm still hungry.