'Shadow?'

He sat up with a gasp. 'What?'

Rouge sat on the edge of the bed. Her eyes were wide, and she held a mug in both hands. '… Good morning, sunshine.'

He gave her a bewildered glance. '… Why are you wearing your Extreme Gear uniform?'

She looked unimpressed. 'I'm not. It's sleepwear. Don't look at me like that – you're the one who wears your rocket skates and bangles to bed.'

'Air shoes,' he mumbled. 'Inhibitor rings.'

'Honey, it's too early for this. And I don't get paid enough to care.'

Shadow didn't even remember falling asleep. Synthetic sunlight streamed down from the ceiling panels. He blinked, shook his head and ran his hands over his quills. 'What happened?'

'Nothing.' She heaved a sigh. 'I don't know why you always have to assume something "happened". The world doesn't automatically come under threat every time you fall asleep, you know. I came in to check on you, but you were talking to yourself.'

He gave her a wary look. 'What was I saying?'

'Nothing noteworthy. You weren't speaking in an eldritch language, at least. You don't remember what you were dreaming about?'

'No. I only remember nightmares.'

'That's a meagre consolation.'

'What is?'

She shrugged. 'That you might have been happy for a few hours, even if you don't remember it.'

He froze. Then he laughed briefly, a weak scoff. He knew he still wasn't in his right mind. He'd laughed more in the past 24 hours than he had in months. 'Don't tell me I've found a way to keep having memory problems after all this time … What time is it, for that matter?'

'11 am.'

He recoiled and threw his legs over the side of the bed. 'You're joking, right?' He snatched the military-issue alarm clock from his bedside table. '… Damn it. You said it was early.'

'Early for me,' she said, yawning. 'But like I just said, the world isn't ending. You're allowed to have a slow start.'

He put the alarm clock back down. 'I'm not like you. I don't sleep in until noon.'

'You also don't have to get up at six in the morning every day either.' She pressed the mug she was holding into his empty hands. 'Here.' It was filled with roasted coffee beans. She grimaced slightly. '… Just the way you like it.'

'Thanks.'

After only a single crunch, Rouge cringed, clapped her hands over her ears and hurriedly got off the bed. 'Forget surviving atmospheric re-entry – this is what convinced me that nothing can kill you.'

He raised his eyebrows over the rim of the mug. 'Most agents have a shelf life. You should be thrilled with me.'

'One day I'll retire,' she threatened.

Shadow set the empty mug down and stepped into the adjoining bathroom cubicle to brush his teeth. 'No. You're doing this until you're 90.'

She groaned. 'No, I'm not. You'll be lucky if I'm still working a desk job at GUN by that point.'

He looked at her in the mirror. 'You can retire after I've trained your children to be field agents.'

'I hate children!' she protested. 'Where did these hypothetical children come from, anyway?!'

'You had to get that hypothetical desk job somehow.' He shrugged. 'Accidents happen.'

He lowered his head to rinse his mouth out, and the military-grade alarm clock flew past his head, cracking the mirror and crashing into the sink. 'I got that hypothetical desk job through hard work, you jerk –'

He tossed the alarm clock back over his shoulder. 'I know how you operate, Rouge. I'm not going to insult your intelligence or mine by pretending otherwise.'

She let out an angry hiss. 'You really were born 50 years ago, weren't you?'

'Created. Not born – created.'

'What difference does that make?!'

Shadow took the empty coffee mug to the kitchen, and she chased after him. 'If it's a hypothetical scenario,' he said, 'then why are you getting so heated?'

'It stopped being hypothetical when you made inferences about my morals –'

'What morals?'

Omega was sitting at the table on a reinforced metal chair, and he slammed both hands down on the tabletop. 'Will you both shut up? You are bickering like a married couple. At this rate, these fictional children will be yours.'

Shadow and Rouge both recoiled.

'… I'd genuinely rather die,' she said.

'Same here,' Shadow muttered. 'We don't need any three-eyed demon spawn scurrying around the base.'

"Darling, the number of eyes our hypothetical children would have would be the least of our problems –' Rouge's eyes landed on the sofa. 'Have either of you seen my necklace?'

'Negative.'

'Which one?'

'The new one.'

'Do I look like a museum curator to you?'

Rouge stared at Shadow expectantly.

'… I tossed it in your room with all your other junk.'

She spread her wings and darted into her room. 'Thanks, darling.'

He raised his voice so she could still hear him. 'Hide your things better. I wouldn't be surprised if we had a "random" inspection after the scene we caused yesterday.'

'You caused that scene on your own. Omega and I had nothing to do with it. But speaking of yesterday …' Rouge leaned back through the doorway and said, 'Abraham wants to talk to you.'

'Of course he does.'

'Do you know what you're going to tell him?'

'Yes.'

'Because I … Wait, you do?'

'Yes.'

'What changed? Did you sleep on it?'

Shadow rolled his eyes and began to tap his foot.

Rouge smirked. 'You talked to Sonic, didn't you?'

'I did not.'

'Sure, sure. So what did you decide?'

Shadow headed towards the door. He noticed his uniform – a dark grey military jacket – hanging on a hook on the wall. It was still in mint condition, with the GUN logo crisply emblazoned on a navy armband. He'd only worn it once.

He reluctantly pulled it down and shrugged it on. 'You'll hear about it eventually.'

'Oh, that still fits perfectly,' Rouge remarked.

'That's what happens when you're immortal,' he muttered, glaring at her. 'You don't physically age.'

'Have a good day, handsome.'

'Shut up.'

'Love you too.'

He opened the door and stepped over the threshold. 'I hope you fly through a closed window.'

Her voice softened. 'You're going to do great.'

Her words stopped Shadow in his tracks. He slowly turned back to her. '… I didn't tell you what my decision was.'

'You didn't have to.'

Omega slumped in his chair. 'I am officially third-wheeling. I no longer wish to exist.'

Rouge whirled around to face him. 'Omega, I'm going to send you down to diagnostics for reprogramming, so help me –'

Shadow shut the door behind him and leaned against it. He'd been avoiding GUN's headquarters as much as he could since returning from White Space, choosing to focus on field and recon missions instead. Ironically, he'd needed time and space – the two things that he had perfect control over.

He'd needed room to breathe, yet the silence that came with solitude had become unbearable. He'd been in his own head for far too long. And as much as his patience with Rouge's bickering and Omega's one-track-mindedness always wore thin … It was a welcome supply of white noise. It was familiar. It was the closest thing to 'home' that he would ever have, even if he really was going to live forever.

He straightened his jacket and began to walk down the corridor. Mere days ago, he'd declared that he would choose his own destiny and then killed the devil in cold blood. And despite Sonic's words of encouragement and Rouge's confidence, why…

Why was this decision so difficult to make?

To be continued…