A Horrifying, Yet Miraculous, Absolution
Ch. 30
[×]
The curtains flew open and sunlight streaked into the crisp morning air. The cooler temperatures made it obvious that winter's hold onto spring hadn't let up yet, but the blooming trees above weren't exactly paying attention to those warnings. The figure lingered for a while before turning around into the kitchen: hands prepared and set up the normal routine of visitation. Hot espresso expelled from a machine into a ceramic cup – an appalling waste of beans – as a search in the sink's cabinet pulled out another dark fluid container. The bright yellow bottle was claimed, and the individual moved slowly towards the living room where an offer to a lump of mass by the couch went.
"DELIVERY ACCEPTED."
"One of these mornings, Rouge isn't going to have leftovers stocked up for you," a deep voice cautioned.
Omega, the banished – or, the correct word, betrayed – robot of the Eggman Empire, made an action that seemed similar to a shrug. "THE BAT SHOULD UNDERSTAND THE IMPORTANCE OF KEEPING FLUIDS NECESSARY FOR FUTURE DESTRUCTION!" Sensors – falsification of eyes – made a clicking noise as they scanned and analyzed the dark carbon hedgehog. "ANALYSIS: SHADOW, YOU HAVE NOT CONSUMED A SNACK FROM ROUGE'S KITCHEN. I QUESTION YOUR RESOLVE ON MAINTAINING PEAK PERFORMANCE."
Quills shifted as he tilted his head. "You know I don't need to eat. Besides, there wasn't anything not already pulverized in one of those machines-"
There was a soft noise. "Haa, it's because I am civilized and use modern convenience, unlike you two." His ears flicked at the sound, could detect the scent of the perfume she always wore, and watched a white bat Mobian descend from the upstairs. A hand covered a yawn as the rest of her figure stretched out. "What are you boys even doing here, anyways?"
"SHADOW HAD ELEVATED LEVELS OF CORTISONE AFTER LAST WEEK'S EVENT," the robot without a concept of being subtle tore open into the air. "HE WANTED TO ENSURE YOUR SAFETY BOTH MENTALLY AND PHYSICALLY AFTER CHECKING MY LOGIC CORES. I ALLOWED HIM AS AFTERWARDS WE GET TO DESTROY AN EGGMAN BASE. HE PROMISED."
The normally controlled face of the woman faltered. It kept that expression as the black and red hybrid placed a hot mug in her hands – he knew what his partners {friends} wanted at various moments. In this case, Rouge would desire to keep up the charade that she hadn't felt that fear that basically everyone else had.
She wordlessly took the cup and murmured a thanks; gazed onto Omega and him with sharper, more self-aware attentiveness. "I wasn't expecting you to show up discussing feelings. Not exactly your M.O., you know."
He didn't say anything.
She paused and rubbed her hand around the lip of the ceramic. There was a deep exhale. "I don't bare my heart out to just anyone."
The sound of metal servos adjusting. "ANALYSIS: WE ARE TEAM DARK. WE WILL LISTEN. IT WILL IMPROVE YOUR MORALS, THEREFORE HIGHER CHANCES OF WANTING TO JOIN US IN OUR SLAUGHTER."
It was Omega's way of showing care. Both the other Mobians knew that – sometimes, the robot was the easiest of the trio to comprehend motives and wishes. Certainly, the hybrid fell in second place at that; fought often for first when compared to Rouge.
"And you, handsome?" off rolled the joking nickname that she was aware the hybrid detested.
"I was worried."
A hum escaped her lips.
"IF YOU WANT SOMEONE ELSE TO RELATE TO, I SAW A PURPLE VERSION OF THE MOLECULAR COMPOUNDS THAT CREATE RUST." A claw extended and attempted to touch the white top of the bat's head. "DISCOMFORT AND ANGER AT BEING THREATENED FILLED ME. I MADE SURE TO SHOOT AT IT."
The distance was too far away – it was out in space on the opposite side of the ARK's orbit – so nothing of Omega's arsenal could reach. It must have greatly infuriated the construct. To feel powerless…
Rouge noticed his hands tightened; she always did. "I'll go last, since we're sharing. I promise."
He sighed and forced his body to relax. His teammates {friends} were here. They'd… understand his dilemma. The voice he let out was controlled, however. It was innate. A falsified calm storm; the eye of a hurricane. One they knew how to navigate. "I didn't see anything."
Those whom hadn't know him would erroneously assume it was a boast of superiority.
A hum escaped and silence returned; a mug of espresso slurped as it had cooled down enough for consumption. For usage. For… being alive. "Makes sense. You can't die. As such, how could you have possibly seen what Death was?"
The realization frightened him in other ways. They all knew it.
Immortal. Ageless. He'll outlast them all.
He usually never thought about those two details. They were just a fact. One of the reasons he was created. A footnote that science couldn't claim again. He didn't live in the moment, per say, but he no longer drowned in his past. He had moved on – to them. To the Earth. To his promise.
A promise that had almost been ripped away.
Then what?
He would have lost everything: not in a slow, controlled rate where he could gain new… connections later on, but instantly. At once.
Forever.
What if that… 'purple visage of the concept of one's demise' had descended onto the planet? Of course, he had a feeling Sonic was the one that banished {killed?} it far away – the Chaos Energy up above was impossible to ignore – but what if the blue hero had lost? There was a threat out there and the Ultimate Lifeform had been none the wiser; none the smarter; wasn't aware; wasn't prepared; couldn't see-
A glove flicked at him. "Get rid of those thoughts, Shadow."
"AFFIRMATIVE. WE STILL HAVE A BASE TO ANNIHILATE. NOT SEEING DEATH MEANS YOU ARE THE SUPERIOR CREATURE TO FIGHT BESIDES WITH. I WOULD HAVE NO ONE OTHER. BESIDES A BAT."
"Why thank you, Omega," Rouge laughed while she ensured the hedgehog was alright. "That's a high honor to be placed right next to the Ultimate Lifeform."
He felt himself snort.
{Friends…}
He hoped Maria knew he had reclaimed some more – would do what he could to keep them safe.
Until nature… turned one last season for the others.
[x]
He felt the heat of a human being – female, young, almost teenager; the light stench of medicine, lilies, and the slightest trace of gunpowder. A name filtered through logical thoughts before emotional ones took the reigns: Maria Robotnik. It whispered in the displacement of the air, before she turned the corner and accessed the region of his room she had dubbed 'Le Artte Room.' It was a foolish name for the smaller space that was rather empty – his old creative setup was larger than most bedrooms with a canvas easel as wide as Omega was tall…
He felt his brush pause mid-stroke.
It wasn't good to dwell on what wasn't anymore, was it?
Red eyes glimpsed ironically at the illustration of Rouge directly underneath the tip. Her facial expression of exasperation – of her wings stretched out with no jewels in her hands – continued to stare at the at an incomplete sketch of Omega. The robotic force was only in faint pencil guidelines – the background not filled with enough detail to wonder if this scene was a memory or a fantasy.
He… should perhaps finish this at another time.
A girl's footsteps on metal; the bounce in one's knees that didn't have full range of motion in the Z-axis; the way lungs were moving at 52 breaths per minute; the-
He carefully turned around to face Maria. Assessed her. Those blue eyes were large and expressive – the undercurrent of worry and grief there once again as they had been the past month and some change. Yet, she was also pleased and excited: hands were in fists as she jumped little hops to see what he had been working on. Ever since she realized he knew how to paint, she had been quick to oversee what he had been doing – from smaller, quick rough works to more detailed, elaborate pieces {such as the one behind him}. "Shadow!" she chirped up. "Did you finish her? Can I see?"
He gave a nod as he slid out.
Maria took the steps to close the gap and hummed and hawed at the almost fully rendered bat Mobian. "I think I remember her from a distance. She never got that close to me in the white region."
That was Rouge for you. She understood that moment in his life was… difficult. If not for this reality, the painted scene would have shifted into opposite: the Mobian would have been complimenting his illustration of a young girl with blonde hair. "I'll do… Amy next."
She heard his pause. "You don't have to."
"You wanted to know."
There was that look in her eyes. "Shadow, you don't have to force yourself just because I'm curious. We got lots of time. Besides, I'm just happy you're not doing the stars anymore. I see them outside the window all the time, silly."
Cold. Impassive. Powerful. Where time and space dilated.
"They're the easiest subject to practice wet on wet techniques," he countered, but left it at that. Maria didn't need to have a lecture or lesson on watercolor control. She was more of a pencil and photography type girl – wide brimmed gaze that wanted to experience her world instead of being behind screens: cotton paper, canvas, glass, or otherwise.
Eventually, he cleaned up with her help. She babbled on about spending time with Abraham as it was the weekend and Professor was still busy doing his medical research and that she had to stop neglecting him because being raised by the General was no good and maybe he might let something about the Commander's plan slip-
The door from his room had slid wide as the two continued down the elongated hallways of the ARK. A quartet of organic signatures at various distances and trajectories that were not to impede the desired direction of travel. One: weakness in gait of the left lower limb. Two: shorter stature demoting physical incapability of strength. Three: potassium deficiency. Four: Gerald Robotnik.
Blue eyes watched him. "Looks like your holograms are holding up pretty well!" she added in a whisper as she cupped her hand to his ear. "Have you tried skating with them yet?"
"Gliding," he teased the 'correction' lightly. "They're Air Shoes not Air Skates. And not yet." He wasn't ignorant enough to activate the Chaos Engines and blast around in the visible sections of the ARK. He was supposed to be – as Maria described – a very fancy bandage.
Although, if there's anything he knew about the machinations of G.U.N. in this current era, he'd have to assume this uneasy mockery of peace was going to fade. The so-called second Prototype of Project: SHADOW was an object to touch and demand results from. A stepping stone for the 'successful, eventual outcome.' One simply hadn't brought a Chaos Emerald – bright; tantalizing; warm; inviting; seven point six nautical miles on the X-axis; three point niner on the Y; eight point five on the Z – for no good reason. That he agreed wholeheartedly with both the other Robotniks.
He still didn't understand why they were adamant on his lack of action, but if it's what Professor wishes…
His creator was the genius of geniuses.
He wasn't.
So, there must be a logical reason. They'll tell him at some point. He was positive. Until then, he'll watch over them and protect them and pull apart the universe for them.
{{Pull… apart the…?}}
Thoughts faded.
Maria tugged his hand away from his head. "C'mon! Grandpa is still in his big ol' important meeting with his underlings! I know a place where no one will see us." Blonde eyebrows rose and descended as she ensured to change expressions into something that always caught his attention:
Joy at being with him.
{The same he shared in return.}
He followed her with minor grumbles.
Ever her shadow.
[x]
There was always that sorrow when {{Professor}} saw him. Deeper than Maria's – one he kept careful tabs on because of how the scientist's mental state balanced on serrated edges.
There was always that… love.
The bond between him and Maria was tight. Had always been. Will always be. The bond between him and {{Professor}} was… different. More cavernous than before. Newer. Or, perhaps, less tainted was the better word? Clarified? He wasn't a brother to the elderly man. Wasn't an uncle. Wasn't a specimen. Wasn't an experiment.
He was…
It always occurred after their night chats. Lectures. Discussions. "Goodnight, son." Human flesh on his fur. The scent of isopropyl alcohol and coffee. That gaze of so many emotions that, even though he understood this man on so many different {deep} levels, were too complex for him for fully grasp.
"Goodnight, Fath…" The word slipped through his fingers; oil on water.
He could not complete it.
Yet, his mind was slowly eroding away; an ocean against white cliffs. The title of 'professor' became erased. A new one was pounding within him.
Maria made fun{?} of his dilemma at times. Silent. Delight not hidden enough on her face. She egged the hybrid on with glances and pats and an occasional eye roll – the words, 'So close!' a hushed murmur. She knew him all too well.
One day, he was going to break.
One day, he could say what he wished he could have before – the first time.
Love was a complicated thing. He had experienced it on the ARK in his past, and it was his ignorance – his lack of foresight; the lack of strength – that tore it away from him.
It tortured him.
He had moved on.
Yet, his body was now was back to where it all started. The cradle of his memories. On a different road. A different path. He took a left whereas the previous version of him went right.
Clawed that feeling back into his hands.
Felt it.
His heart was mending; his soul was - - into the stars as -.
{{How was he supposed to tell them how he ended up returning? That all this was a mistake? That he… He…}}
Thoughts faded.
[x]
He shivered as the other carbon lifeforms – the scientists on the ARK; he knew their names only when he spoke or wrote {why not passively in his mind; couldn't he used to do that?} – drowned genetic samples into whatever materials that he was composed of on their research labs. Knowledge orbital bombarded him; happiness, enjoyment, pleasure; HUNGER echoed until it all paused and ended and-
{{Professor}} threw open the doors and started to scream. "I thought I DISCUSSED to not accomplish any new sample analysis without my specific oversight!" He kicked them out as that rage of insanity boiled under the surface – shoved them all away as looks of something – one of fascination, one of wonder; one of reverie – filtered the other organics' eyes. With them gone, leather squeaked as a man with tired, long strides; sleep apnea; heart stressors being under control of medication closed the distance. Human hands brought attention as their eyes attempted to meet – all he could see was his reflection on the elder Robotnik's spectacles. "My child… Are you alright?"
He nodded stiffly. That faint urge was still there, but dissipating quickly. "Please don't blame them too much. I'm the one who asked – short of ordered – them to get that Caucasian female DNA compiled as fast as possible. The samples were sitting unused, and we don't have much time before we leave down to Earth-" He continued. Described each genetic fault or how they didn't match in certain areas to Maria's own code. There were other things – areas where supplemental donations from other organics needed to be accumulated. His voice carried in the room that was now empty as {{Professor}} listen quietly with all attention.
It wasn't until the hybrid mentioned how he desired more did the scientist press lips together and shook his head. "No additional things for you this week, Shadow. Possibly next one, too. Damned subordinates not listening to my commands and getting persuaded by your honeyed, however well meaning, I'm certain, tongue."
Why was {{Professor}} so upset? "But I can filter through the data faster than the computers! Just a singular genetic trait takes four days with them! The computers of this era are not fast enough for the timeline of six more months before funds will run out again. Even I understand that, and my skill is subpar in electronics. If it's for Maria, I will do anythi-!"
"No, little one. No. Honestly, I would have rather you not continue this way in the first place. The second you show ANY sign of being unable to recover from…"
A curse.
A frown.
"Forget what I just said, Shadow."
A pause.
"And don't do that again."
[x]
Maria peeked down at his general direction. Her fingers curled around his glove as she squinted at the dark mass he must have appeared before her in her limited vision. "I can still feel you, silly," she attempted to laugh with a hoarse sound. "It doesn't even hurt too bad. Dr. Eruba has me on the good stuff." The squeeze continued. "So… you don't have to worry so much, Shadow. We both know I recovered just fine from this… episode," the girl ended with hope. Not for herself. For the hybrid.
Why?
She was the one in pain.
Did she never look out after herself?
Maria didn't have to worry about him.
He sighed internally. "That doesn't mean we should assume things will end up the same." Red eyes glanced over to the machine readouts – their lettering and graphs told him more than what his natural senses could. "What book would you like me to read to you?"
There was a moment of near silence as she hummed. "There's so many to choose from, but I've already heard all of them… How about something new: a specially curated story?"
Now it was his turn to hum.
"Yes," the girl added. "About… one of your old adventures? If that's alright?"
Adventures…
He tossed his memories in his mind. Not everything was bitter with the fires of hate and revenge – those were primarily only at the beginning. Yet, what would be best to talk to her about? Faker – the hero; the 'light' to so many others of the planet – was the one that spent time literally running around, searching for something new over the horizon to accomplish. He was not that; was {friends} with a robot meant for destructive mayhem and a jewel thief/spy/club owner/whatever she wanted that day. He fought because he had to, not because he willingly desired violence anymore – although he could be… a tad ruthless. Efficient. Dedicated. Goal and mission oriented.
What to tell her…?
About her cousin almost taking over the world? Nonsense.
About the Black Arms invasion? Absolutely not.
About some mercenary group and the trouble that caused? Hah!
About the truth of the Gizoid? No – too close to home. That kinder soul was gone and not created this time around, he believed. {A necessary cost, and those words curdled something in him.}
About the world being split into chunks before crashing back together? Oh, right, that event would have to get addressed at some point once more, wouldn't it?
What was safe for Maria?
What was that good tale she wanted?
"… There's this one time I went fishing with a giant purple cat that is taller than Fath- -Professor. A thick fur coat and quite a large belly. I showed up with a high-end pole, a silver tackle box, a fisherman's floppy cap, and lures. Researched the best ones based on the body of water we were to go on. He showed up with a stick, some string, a can of worms pulled up from the ground after a rainstorm, and a frog. You can guess who caught the greatest number of fish." He stretched his arms as wide as the could; knew his silhouette could be seen in her limited sight. "Big caught something as large as his namesake, and me…" A much smaller distance. "I caught a minnow. Then his frog attempted to eat my tail. Apparently, my Chaos Energy tastes delicious."
She had a hard laugh at that.
[x]
Both Robotniks encouraged and facilitated him to sleep every so often instead of staying alert and awake at all times for all times. He would fight. Resist. Huff in denial. He was over untold years old, was designed to not require it; who would stay alert when potential enemies were around – he wasn't-!
Coffee and isopropyl.
Medicine and lilies.
They weren't the best smells according to other things with scent receptors.
But it {now} was everything to him.
[x]
He would sit and illustrate gold and red pointed orbs when Maria was at school and {{Professor}} banned him from going to the medical hall. It was comforting. Mindless movement of brush against paper. Exercises in subtly. Power. Destruction. Control.
"I'm… not a fan of these, Shadow."
"Why?"
The suspicion rose when she looked away, but nothing came out from her mouth except a brief flash of a frown. He debated on figuring out what the source of her unease was, but eventually decided to stop painting that subject altogether. If it was something important, she would have told him. Odds were they just reminded her of the colors from the muzzle of a gun. He switched to motorbikes and detailed examination of internal combustion engines instead. They allowed him to give more of those stories she wanted – especially since his old bike, the Dark Rider, was a passion project he modified piece by piece…
Maria enjoyed those artworks much better.
He would still find himself thinking about the endless expanse when nothing else was going on or needed immediate acknowledgement.
It was beautiful.
Peaceful.
Quiet.
[x]
Ćómé.
His ear twitched as he felt something cold slide across his brow.
Allowance to listen obliged. Amusement. Curiosity.
Slowly, he walked across the hard metallic surface of the ARK's pathways, hesitant, almost. Something was bothering him. He tried to bring up a list of what was normal and regulated and compared it to whatever was going on right now, but all the signs pointed to everything being the same. Yet, if that was the case, then why did he have this feeling of needing to move? To go somewhere? To travel? To go from the medical wing where he overstayed, thinking about those samples he was denied from getting near – despite them being of his own composition, to elsewhere?
He eventually made it towards Maria's room where the only two individuals of importance remained in close proximity, but additional objects were in range. The door slid open and he was greeted to the sight of Maria and {{Professor}}; both sitting besides one another. Off towards the corner of the sitting couch was one of her… friends, a singular Artificial Chaos making strange noises as it avoided his gaze.
"We did woRk!" the AI hummed at the youngest Robotnik.
The scientist gave a nod, but his look was already upon the newcomer to the room. "Ah, hello, Shadow. Mind coming here?" the adult ended with a pat on the sofa.
He closed the distance; felt Maria give his topmost quill a rub with affection; felt {{Professor}} give a briefer, yet filled with no less emotion, one, too. {Ever since falling into madness, the man had been more… open. An oxymoron – to have the person that wanted to burn the world be still capable of care. Perhaps it was a sign that {{Professor}} was working towards stabilization? Or so the hybrid hoped.}
Maria had a face of a researcher that won a prize. Her happiness had increased over something, and that made him pleased as well. She was active. She could move. Her disease wasn't being too terrible this evening, it seemed. "We were just thinking about you."
"I see."
"Want to have dinner early?"
A change in routine?
She poked – a 'boop,' she called it – his nose. He tried not to flinch back – was getting embarrassed. What would his {friends} have thought, seeing this? These actions weren't the ones of the person they knew. He was… lighter. Softer. The edges had rounded off slightly. {Had hope.} "Grandpa wants us to be with him this evening and away from the laboratory." Her voice went far lower in volume – to such an extent that the elder man wouldn't hear despite knowing something was being exchanged between the two. "He's been pensive today. It's Valentine's Day on Earth – and who better to share the day than with us! Come help me cheer him up!"
Ah. He neglected – forgot – that date of importance.
{It had always struck him strange that a date of human murder was the same date meant for sharing claims of complete and utter devotion. After losing his family, he never celebrated that Day again – he had learned the true meaning of Valentine.}
Red eyes rose. His creator was watching him very distinctly.
[x]
Faker always made fun of his 'uneasy attraction' to human weaponry and machines. He never let those taunts reach too far deeply – how could Sonic possibly understand the events that the hybrid underwent to gain these skills? How could that blue annoyance comprehend that one had to plan if Chaos Energy was ever denied or blocked off or made useless against an enemy? The Emeralds weren't going to be a solution for everything – not a last-minute Hail Mary that could be picked up with 100% guarantee. The two creatures had argued about it enough, neither side had given up, until the sun would set or he just straight up left. Getting into arguments with Faker always made him hot headed. Organized plans? Sonic had none. Tactical methodology? Same thing. The will to do what it took? He'll admit the blue hedgehog had a deep drive of determination, however, the guy would try to befriend a destroyer of the world first-
He grimaced.
They weren't friends.
… But they weren't enemies, either.
{They bantered. Bitterly. He was harsher when compared to the members of Team Dark. Ruder.}
What were they?
'Pals! Buddies!' Faker would grin with cockiness and dash away.
'Acquaintances,' he would counter.
Sonic was some Chosen One; a legend come to life. The hybrid was humanity's laughter and hubris at God.
That lack of planning, of foresight, of thinking everything could be solved with the power of friendship, of believing everything would end up 'alright,' of refusing to give up and accomplishing a sacrifice that the Ultimate Lifeform couldn't, was what got him killed.
[x]
He could see young female fingers clench at the black grip with revulsion. He could taste her discomfort, anxiety, and fear. The metal would have been warped if he had been the one to hold it in such a manner – the chamber was empty, but he pretended it wasn't. A crucial step with weaponry: one always assumed the object was loaded. It was why a sole digit would never have a graze on the trigger unless one was willing to complete the action; why you never pointed the end at anything other than the floor unless it was the right moment.
The emphasis and clarity at which he explained that to Maria still couldn't absolve her terror. Nevertheless, she wouldn't quit until he suggested otherwise, even if the shivers were not good for her. There were no moans. No more complaints of going to the chamber that mock pretended as a shooting range.
The girl was honestly doing her best.
"Urgg! This is so… infuriating," she expressed as he reached and took the offending item from her. "It's already March! Grandpa and you leave in a few weeks! And I haven't even improved over the past two months!" Freed, emptied hands waved above her. "I have the best, most adorable brother-teacher in the world, and I'm still failing!"
"No, you haven't," he clarified as he cleaned up the area to make it look like no one was there again. "If I had it my way, you'd never have to even touch the final exam."
Cyan eyes blinked as confusion set in. "Final exam?"
He gave her a look.
"O-Ooooooh. I get it."
[x]
His senses had expanded past what they used to be.
Dummies were nothing compared to moving enemies that required full attention – and beetle drones? Forget it! Their purpose was to basically float and be forgotten; more a camera than a proper defensive tool – and then he recalled that it was strong and capable… against humans. To Mobians that could utilize Chaos Energy, they were nothing more than stepping stones.
Literally.
Yet, those items were all that he could find that wouldn't cause any wandering eyes or thoughts. Using Artificial Chaos as target practice was no longer a valid option – those AIs had proven their effectiveness and were worthy of being spared. Basically a guardian to Maria and {{Professor}} when he was not around, it would be wrong to.
They still made him feel… strange. He knew where they were always even though he couldn't see them, and when he was not trying to as well.
But at least he couldn't do that with the beetles. No. Regular, old fashioned senses for them – their Chaos Drives small gems in his mind's eye {and he had to wonder if Rouge would laugh or roll her eyes at the description}.
He could still punch, roundhouse kick, maul; all the physical things he could do before. He could still easily run with his Air Shoes and use the flames from beneath the Engines to melt whatever he wanted. He could even still spin dash, although that felt weird with his giant wings – ended up to pull it off he entered a Morph-like state subconsciously and he did not enjoy finding that out.
He still had all his Chaos-based skills.
The issue… were other things related to that.
Chaos Energy…
He was always the best user of it from those allies that he knew; had many capabilities that made one whom watch him wonder how his skills were possible; made others make small – or not so small – cries of, 'Ah,' when the truth of being artificially created came out.
But now he was at a whole new level.
It was as if his body wanted to use Energy and Energy alone. Spears of small magnitude were effortless – had always been – but now they could pierce through steel with that same level of nonchalance instead of stun. His form hummed the more Chaos he used – dizzying and soaring. {Quite literally. The tactical advantage of height was not lost on him. There was a reason why Eggman preferred aviation-based robotics and weaponry.} Five became ten became fifteen; twenty. He had summoned that many lances before, but when burning with the full gambit of the Emeralds – bright; tantalizing; warm; inviting; fifteen point seven nautical miles on the X-axis; one point eight niner on the Y; three point two on the Z – not…
He looked at his hand – where black ink crackled.
A stilled, straight mouth.
He stopped messing with the leftovers of the ARK's defensive network and moved them into the lanes where other drones would submit the waste to the recycling plant.
His skills, it seemed, had not lessened in his lax.
[x]
The hybrid had not enjoyed this holding pattern.
There were things to do. Missions to complete. Family to save. Something to steal at Angel Island – and he was not naïve enough to not guess at what it was.
There were not many things he knew personally of the echidnas. Their demise was generic information that lacked detail. Briefly hand waved over. He was not close enough to have received the knowledge of the events that led to the genocide.
It would be ironic that, by doing an immense crime and an affront to a certain someone's relatives {grandparents, even}, he might be saving them.
Why go after echidnas when the Master Emerald was no longer in their vicinity? Even his creator told him: "My boy, you're coming mainly for insurance – if I may. We're going to not try to ruin old architecture. My younger self would be appalled! This is all for the greater good, in fact."
Fingers rubbed the Inhibitor Rings absently.
… The last time he was near that thing…
Didn't matter. What he remembered didn't matter. Maria needed a cure. {{Professor}} had a plan. His job was to execute it.
That was his purpose.
To Destroy anything in his path.
{{… Destroy?}}
Silence.
Stillness.
Just himself sitting across from Maria. A chess board was mid-play before them and he had dropped his pawn by accident.
"Are you alright, Shadow?"
He blinked.
"Yes."
Her face donned a frown and that pang of sadness returned – which was bad. He should not be… the giver of such things to Maria, of all people! "Are you sure?"
"Just my mistake," he owned up.
Her face was mixed. {{Professor's}} would be easier to understand that hers right now.
{{… His head hurt.}}
[x]
{{When was the last time he called himself his own name…? When did it stop? Why couldn't he-?}}
Thoughts faded.