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Chapter XII
Heavy Rain and Bitter Tears

"Don't try to deceive me."
"What?"
"You have no desire for revenge. You only crave destruction.
Your only lust is to fuel Iblis until there is nothing left of time itself."
"It's a pity, Shadow The Hedgehog.
Truly a shame that you wish to go against me!"

.

Hands clenched into fists, he gazed up to the two signs above the airlock again. One was a metal plate screwed firmly into the wall, reading 'Exam Room 03' in thick, black letters, making them easy to read despite the sparse light in the corridor. The other one was a small electronic screen, displaying five words glowing in a deep, ominous red that turned the cold breeze of recycled oxygen wafting down from a vent in the ceiling into a bloody mist. They said, 'No entry! Treatment in progress!'

Tense and impatient, he fixated on the little display as if he could somehow make it change its readout by sheer force of will, to make it finally tell him that he was allowed to enter the room. The room in front of which he had been restlessly pacing back and forth for what felt like hours now, his head filled with worries and his heart filled with fear. The room in which they were currently treating her. His friend. His love. Maria.

Despite all the hard work and dedication her grandfather put into his research day in and day out to find a cure for her, the terminal disease she had been born with progressed mercilessly. In fact, her health seemed to have deteriorated drastically over the past few weeks. And just this morning she had suffered a particularly severe attack of weakness. They said that she had lost consciousness. That she had collapsed and hit the floor.

Knowing how close to each other he and Maria had grown, Gerald had informed him immediately, and so he had rushed straight to the infirmary, to where the rescue team had taken her. Of course he wanted to know how she was. If she was all right. If she was going get back on her feet. And of course he wanted to stand by her, to be there for her, like he always did when she was not feeling well.

But this time they weren't letting anyone see her except the doctors, so he had no choice but to wait outside the examination room and try to convert some of his nervousness into kinetic energy by walking up and down the dimly lit corridor.

The lack of information about how serious the situation was, how bad things really were for her, caused his mind to run wild with his concerns, creating a vortex of doom that spiraled down into a darkness of despair, conjuring up the most unwelcome horror scenarios that further fueled his fears.

Because there, at the bottom of that maelstrom, was the darkest of thoughts, the worst of worries. The possibility that today could be the day she would die. That today could be the day he would lose her. And that he would lose her without having had the chance to hold her in his arms, to tell her how much she meant to him, just one last time. Without having had the chance to say goodbye.

He closed his eyes and gritted his teeth, having to summon all his strength to wrestle down the thick lump that was forming in his throat.

At that moment, the door in front of him suddenly slid up into the ceiling with a loud hiss, and the sharp, unexpected sound startled him out of his gloomy thoughts. He was taken completely by surprise, and due to the tension he was under, the shock involuntarily caused him to raise his quills, turning them into deadly spears.

A young man rushed out of the examination room, almost running into him. The name tag on his white lab coat identified him as Rajesh Rashwami, M.D., and his face was a picture of utter bewilderment and inner turmoil.

The doctor jerked violently and froze when he saw the black-furred Hedgehog standing right in front of him, half-merged with the shadows in the dark hallway, eyes glowing red, weapons at the ready.

"Oh!" the man gasped, his hazel skin turning several shades paler as he struggled to regain his composure. Visibly uncomfortable, he ran a hand through his greasy, raven-black hair. "Hello, Mr... uh... err... Shadow," he finally stammered, his accent strong.

"How is she?" he bluntly fired off the only question that mattered to him right now, the only question that had been burning painfully on his tongue and in his heart for the past few hours. He eyed the medic. He couldn't remember having seen this guy before. Maybe he was new to the ARK. Living in a big tin can drifting through the cold blackness of space seemed to put a lot of mental strain on many people, especially over a long period of time. To prevent exhaustion and depression, some of the personnel was replaced on a regular basis, so he didn't bother to memorize every face.

He was also aware that even many of the long-serving staff still had not gotten used to his presence, let alone the fact that he was allowed to roam freely around the space station for the most part.

For some reason, however, the doctor appeared to be particularly agitated. So much so that he still hadn't answered the question. "Hey, I'm talking to you," he pressed, "I want to know if she's okay!"

"Well... Um... Y-Yes. A-At least as far I can tell..." Strangely, the man's face suddenly contorted until it looked as if he had bitten into a rotten fruit. "I have completed examination. You go in now. Miss Robotnik already asked for you."

"So she's awake!" The good news sent his heart leaping for joy. Still, something seemed odd. Something about the doctor's demeanor made him uneasy. His instincts told him that there was something this man was holding back. "So? Any findings? What is her condition?" He had to control himself not to jump at the guy, grab him by the collar of his lab coat, and shake the answers out of him.

"Ah... Uh... I-I am sure she want tell you herself, Mr... Shadow. But please, keep visit short, and... avoid any unnecessary... excitement. She need rest now." There it was again, that unsettling look on the man's face. Was it confusion? Stress? Nervousness? "Now, if you'll excuse me..." The man quickly pushed past him and hurried down the corridor, his long coat billowing behind his back like the cape of a superhero. Or like that of a villain.

Trying to ignore the queasy feeling the guy's curious behavior had given him, he shifted his attention back to the door. The airlock was finally open. And the doctor had said she wanted to see him. So what was he waiting for? Butterflies of fire and ice began to chase each other in his stomach as he stepped into the examination room.

His fur stood on end for a moment as he passed through the invisible force field that was supposed to render all unwanted germs harmless. The acrid odor of disinfectant hit his nostrils so strongly that he could almost taste it on his tongue.

Breathing in shallowly, he let his gaze wander around the small, perfectly square chamber. Walls of matte steel reflected the bright ceiling lights like foggy mirrors, giving the place an overwhelmingly cold and oppressive atmosphere. It was as if he had entered the inside of a metal cube, and it looked as sterile as it smelled.

In the middle of the room was a hospital bed on wheels, surrounded by medical devices and surgical equipment. And on it, half covered with a plain white blanket, lay the girl who had become the most important person in his life. The woman he had fallen in love with.

They had put her in one of those ugly disposable hospital gowns the color and texture of which somehow always reminded him of a garbage bag. She was obviously very tired. Deep, dark circles had formed under her closed eyes, standing out sharply against her pale skin.

She looked like a doll made of fine porcelain, delicate and fragile, yet of indescribable beauty, even when wrapped in a garbage bag. Her long blonde hair spilled like liquid gold over the pillow beneath her head, and her chest rose and fell slightly in rhythm with her breathing. She was barely awake, but clearly alive.

The sight took a load off his heart, and he let out an inaudible sigh of relief. One of the horror visions his mind had produced to torment him with while he had to wait outside had been an image of her lying tangled in a nightmare of tubes and wires, artificially fed and mechanically ventilated.

Fortunately, however, the only machine she was wired to was a heart rate monitor sitting next to her bed. The device beeped quietly and regularly as a small green dot drew a jagged line of mountains and valleys on its screen.

"Maria?" he said in a whisper so as to get her attention without startling her.

She slowly opened her eyes. As she saw him, a smile formed on her lips so radiant that it even managed to push back some of the signs of the tremendous exhaustion that had carved into her petite features. "Shadow! You are here!"

The young woman made an attempt to sit up in bed, but he quickly went to her side and gently pushed her back onto the sheets. "Where else would I be? Now, please lie still. The doc said you should take it easy."

"Pfff," she scoffed, waving it off. "Isn't that what they always say? What do they know? According to them, I should have kicked the bucket already a long time ago."

"I don't want you talk like that!" he said much more harshly than he had intended, as her words caused the tension that had been bottling up in him over the past few hours to flare up again. "Sorry, Maria," he apologized, immediately regretting his tone. "I've just had enough headache material for one day."

"I can imagine. Believe me, being sent to the canvas like that this morning really caught me cold, too," she admitted. "Anyway... darling, you know I don't want you to worry so much about me all the time."

But he couldn't shrug it off so easily. "How? How could I not? Your condition..." He swallowed. "It seems that these attacks are getting more and more violent! How much longer before you finally-"

"Stop, Shadow," she cut him off sternly, looking at him reproachfully. The signs of exhaustion had returned to her face. Sunken eyes, framed by a circle drawn with black charcoal. "I don't want you to talk like that either. We had a deal, remember?"

Knowing she was right, he nodded silently and lowered his gaze. For a minute, the beeping of the heart rate monitor beside her bed was the only sound in the room.

Her deadly and unstoppable disease was a highly emotional matter for both of them. As long as her grandfather Gerald wasn't able to find a cure for N.I.D.S., they were condemned to live every day with the nagging fear that her heart could stop beating at any moment.

Living with a threat like that was a constant challenge. There were days when the terror her terminal illness brought with it was almost impossible to stand. There were days when the fear was strong, sometimes joining forces with sadness and despair, and then it gained the power to poison every thought and ruin even the most beautiful moment.

Talking about it made it easier now and then, but finding the right tone was often not as easy, and so they eventually agreed to avoid the subject as much as possible.

They both tried to cope with the situation in their own way. He had been designed as a living weapon. The heart of a fighter beat in his chest. It was extremely difficult for him to bear being so helplessly at the mercy of fate, and his temper occasionally caused his frustration to turn into anger.

Maria, on the other hand, was determined to fight her worries with joy and cheerfulness. If her life was really going to end so soon, she wanted to spend the time she had left happily, with a smile on her lips. He was aware that her approach to the problem was certainly not only the better one, but also the wiser one, and secretly he couldn't help but admire her for her courage and inner strength.

"Hey," she whispered, gently running her fingers through the soft, white fur on his chest, eliciting a sound from him that could have passed for a purr. She knew it drove him crazy when she stroked him there. "I don't want to argue with you, darling. Quite the opposite. I have a surprise for you. A big surprise. So big, in fact, that I bet it'll knock your socks off."

"My socks?" Confused, he looked down at his feet. He was wearing shoes, but no socks.

"It's just a saying," Maria laughed. Her ocean-blue eyes began to sparkle like sapphires. "Are you ready? You better hold on tight!"

"Don't make this any more suspenseful than it has to be," he said, crossing his arms over his chest and playing it cool.

"The examination revealed something truly astonishing," she began to explain. "I already had some sort of feeling, and now my suspicions have been confirmed. You should have seen the look on the doctor's face. He literally fell out of his chair." The beeps of her vital signs monitor became a little more frantic, a sure sign that her excitement was growing.

So was his curiosity. "Oh, come on. Spit it out already!"

"I'm pregnant," she finally dropped the bombshell, grinning from ear to ear.

He had heard the words, but his mind was not yet ready to comprehend their meaning. "W-What?"

"Three months, the doctor said." Her smile widened. "You're going to be a father, my little monster."

For a few seconds he just stood there. Not moving. Not breathing. Silence filled the room, interrupted only by her heartbeat, translated into sounds and lines by the machine at her side.

Then the meaning of what she had just told him seeped into his consciousness, and his surroundings suddenly began to spin as he became dizzy. He reached for the bed to hold on to something, but missed. If Maria hadn't had the presence of mind to grab his hand, he would have simply fallen backwards.

"I told you to hold on tight, honey," she said giggling, not letting go of his hand as he was still quite pale around the nose.

His mouth opened and closed without a word coming out. He looked like his brain hadn't finished rebooting. He blinked a few times and shook his head. "A-And there's no doubt? N-No mistake?" he finally managed to get out after finding his tongue again.

"No doubt. No mistake. We're having a baby, Shadow," she assured him. She was all smiles, a picture of pure happiness. He thought she looked like an angel more than ever.

Now it was he who took her hands. "Maria... This... This is... incredible! Amazing! Incredibly amazing!" Again, he blinked a couple of times, all the gears in his head spinning in overdrive as he tried to fully grasp the situation and all its implications. "But I... And you..." he stammered. "W-What are we supposed to do now?! C-Can we really...?"

She straightened up and placed her lips on his, silencing him with a quick but tender kiss. "Shhh," she said, laughing at his excitement and confusion. "The doctor said he'd go and tell Gerald right away. You know Grandpa is always on our side. He always knows what to do. He will help us with everything. It's going to be okay. For sure, honey."

Still completely overwhelmed, he just nodded, grinning like a fool.

"And you know what? That's not all," she continued with shining eyes, as her supply of mind-blowing good news was still far from being exhausted. "The doc also told me that my blood levels are better than they have been in months. He had a lot of complicated scientific words for it, but..." She thoughtfully wrapped a strand of her golden hair around one of her fingers. "I guess to put it simply, you could say that the fetus... our baby... is affecting my organism. And in a way that is far more powerful than any serum Grandpa was able to create from your blood samples so far. Whatever he's trying to extract from you, our child seems to have it too, and now it's boosting my immune system. We're now fighting my N.I.D.S. together."

"Oh my gosh, that's great! It almost sounds too good to be true." He put his hands on her cheeks and looked into her eyes. "I don't know what to say. I'm happy, Maria. I'm so happy, and I love you so much!"

"I love you too, my little monster." She planted another kiss on his lips. "Looks like being with the 'ultimate life form' has its benefits."

His cheeks flushed. "I don't think I contributed very much to this..."

"Well, I remember that quite differently," she objected jokingly, also blushing.

But suddenly she winced and sucked in her breath. Her smile gave way to an expression of surprise and pain. She sank back onto the bed and pressed both hands to her stomach. The beeps from her heart rate monitor accelerated noticeably as the green mountains and valleys on the screen drew closer together. "Shadow... it hurts!" She inhaled with a hiss again. "It hurts so much!"

The feelings of joy and excitement that had filled him a moment ago were replaced by a deep, icy fear. "Maria! Honey, what's going on?"

She groaned in agony, unable to articulate a clear word. Two spots of blood appeared on her stomach, growing rapidly, quickly soaking the fabric of her hospital gown.

The realization hit him like a slap in the face. She was injured! She had been shot! She. Was. Going. To. Die.

"Darling, don't move," he cried out in panic. "Keep breathing! I'll get help!"

He turned around and started to run, but to his surprise, he hit an invisible barrier. Suddenly he was back in his stasis chamber. Surrounded by unbreakable glass. Trapped. Caged. Condemned to watch helplessly as the woman he loved died before his eyes. And with her, the little unborn life she was carrying.

Deep down, he was aware that he was dreaming again, that he was going through another one of his nightmares. But for some reason, he couldn't wake up.

As if to intensify the torment of the experience he was about to undergo, the annoying audio from her vital signs monitor grew faster and louder, rising to a nerve-wracking crescendo that provided the perfect soundtrack to the gruesome scene.

Maria held her stomach with trembling hands, trying to seal the two bullet wounds as best as she could. But the blood just kept pouring out of her frail body, always finding a way through the gaps between her fingers. She was breathing in gasps now, and it sounded as if a handful of rusty nails had been shoved down her throat.

The machine she was connected to was beeping like crazy. The green mountains and valleys on its screen had merged into a thick a wall of spikes and thorns – a cruel representation of her heart struggling ever more desperately to supply her circulation with resources that were no longer available. "Shadow," she sobbed, her voice weak and vibrating with pain. "My little monster..."

He wanted to answer something, to say something. He wanted to tell her that he was still with her, still by her side. He wanted to tell her how much he loved her. How much he missed her. How big a hole her loss had left in his heart.

But the infinite amount of grief and despair he felt constricted his throat, locking all the words, all the things he could have said, inside. He was unable to speak. Unable to tell her how much she meant to him, just one last time. Unable to say goodbye.

"Please," she whispered with what seemed to be her last ounce of strength, and her words made his heart clench like a fist. "Please promise me, Shadow. Promise me... Promise me..."

.

-===XXX===-

.

Shadow woke up, gasping for air. His heart was pounding, his head was throbbing, and his limbs were so tangled in his blanket that it must have come to life during the night and tried to strangle him in his sleep. He squinted his eyes and grimaced in pain.

Irritatingly, he could still hear those jarring beeps that had tormented him in his nightmare, and it took him a moment to realize that it was the buzzer of his wristband communicator signaling an incoming call. He had incorporated the sound into his dream.

The Hedgehog groaned. He didn't need to look at the display to know that it was G.U.N. trying to contact him.

Keeping his eyes closed, he fumbled with the buttons until he found the one that established a connection without activating the camera. "What is it?" he asked, his voice raspy.

"Agent Shadow," a booming male baritone nearly overwhelmed the tiny speaker of the wristwatch-sized radio. It was the commander himself, General Abraham Towers. "Shadow the Hedgehog, do you copy?"

"Shadow here," the Mobian replied curtly. "On vacation!"

"Vacation's over," the commander ordered no less brusquely. "We need your services. Immediately."

Still shaken by his disturbing nightmare and plagued by his violent headache, Shadow's temper suddenly got the better of him. "You can forget that! I'm not available!" He snorted snidely. "You guys even made me pay to update my damn passport myself this turn. There's no way I'm going back to Mobius anytime soon-."

"That won't be necessary," the General cut him off. "In fact, we need you right where you are, Agent Shadow. We have reason to believe that Dr. Ivo Robotnik has become active again."

"What?" Shadow's headache instantly got even worse, escalating from unbearable to life-threatening.

"Our long-range sensors have detected the engine signature of his battle cruiser. And all calculations indicate that he was on a direct route to Soleanna." The concern in the man's voice left no doubt as to how seriously G.U.N. was taking the situation. "We must assume that he has arrived there by now."

"What?!" Shadow repeated stupidly. His head felt like it had been filled with concrete and now someone was trying to break it with a jackhammer.

"Agent Shadow, have you been drinking again?" General Towers asked with suspicion.

"No," the Hedgehog declared nonchalantly, groping around under his bed until his fingers found the half-empty bottle of whiskey left over from last night. If that headache would not kill him first, the bad news would to do the job. He desperately needed a drink.

"If you say so," the commander left it at that without sounding particularly convinced. "However, we can't get any visual confirmation of Robotnik's vessel, and that is rather strange. We think he may have perfected the cloaking technology that allowed him to cross the rift undetected in the past."

Shadow took a long swig straight from the bottle. The strong alcohol scratched his throat like sandpaper, but also wrapped a soothing bandage around his aching brain. "Wonderful," he remarked lightly. "When it comes to entertaining us with fancy new toys, you can always count on that guy." He let out a laugh that sounded like a dry cough. "Maybe he's just coming over to take part in the local ceremony tonight. They say there's going to be some pretty impressive fireworks. After all, that's one of Eggman's specialties."

"Don't tell me you're not drinking," it blared out of the little comm, almost making it vibrate on Shadow's wrist. "Listen, Agent Shadow! If that madman really is back again, we're dealing with a serious threat! We can't afford to let our guard down!"

Don't worry about that, the Mobian thought, a grim smile on his lips. Despite his mocking comments, he was well aware of the gravity of the situation. He just hadn't expected to see Robotnik back in action so soon. I was sure we kicked Eggman's ass into retirement when we took the Master Emerald back from him. The young Fox even crippled him by chopping off his hand. Well, more or less on purpose, but still. His smile went from grim to cruel as he recalled the events. So how on earth is that man always able to recover so quickly? He seems almost immortal.

And he also had not forgotten what Eggman had done to Rouge. She was more than just his colleague, more than just a comrade. She was the only person in his life he still trusted. The only person in his life he still cared about. She was his friend.

So this wasn't going to be just some mission for the Guardian Units of Nations. This was something personal.

He took another sip from the bottle. The Whiskey burned like acid in his empty stomach, but at least eased his headache to some degree.

"The capital of Soleanna is full to the brim with tourists these days," General Towers continued in a more measured tone. "People from all over the world. Even from Mobius. If Robotnik is planning to launch an attack here and now, the casualties could run into the thousands. Not to mention the consequences of a possible mass panic." The veteran paused for a moment, giving his words time to turn into images in Shadow's mind. "Until we have more forces on the ground, we need you to investigate, Agent Shadow. We need to find out where Robotnik is hiding and what he's up to. But the safety of the people is our top priority. That means the highest level of secrecy applies."

"Understood. Initiating the mission now-"

"Wait," the commander interrupted him. "There's one more thing."

A bad feeling came over the Mobian. "And that would be?"

"It has come to our attention that your habit of getting into trouble has gotten a little out of hand lately. Even by your standards. Identifying yourself as one of our agents after committing a serious act of violence is not a smart move, to say the least. Your behavior reflects poorly on us."

"I acted in self-defense."

"Tell that to the three guys who will be spending the next few weeks in a hospital bed," the general pointed out dryly. "You'd think that someone who was created to become the 'ultimate life form' would have developed a greater sense of responsibility."

"And you'd think that someone who was trained to become a special forces member of the largest military organization on Earth would have developed a greater sense of accuracy," snapped Shadow.

"I respect and regret your loss, Agent Shadow, but I have neither the time nor the desire to engage in this debate with you again right now." The commander cleared his throat before continuing, "In any case, this operation is far too delicate to be handled by one person alone. And since Agent Rouge is still not operational, we're sending Special Operations Unit E-123 Omega to assist you."

Shadow's headache returned with a vengeance. "No way!" he barked. "I don't need no babysitter! Especially not that damn tinhead!"

A couple of years ago, Earth's defense forces managed to recover and reprogram one of Eggman's most advanced battle robots. Equipped with not only enough firepower to level a medium-sized city, but also the charm of a forklift and a name that sounded like something out of a plumbing supplies magazine, the war machine had since been added to G.U.N.'s offensive inventory.

In Shadow's opinion, Omega was an annoying know-it-all, an insufferable stickler for the rules. In other words, a real pain in the ass. The Hedgehog had already had the dubious pleasure of having to work with him a couple of times in the past and could very well do without any more such opportunities in the future.

"You better come to terms with it," General Towers advised impassively. "He's already on his way and has orders to contact you as soon as he arrives." The commander's tone of voice brooked no argument. "You will take no action until Omega has joined you. No lone wolf show this time. Is that clear?"

So that's what this asshole wants – to put me on a leash. And he wants Omega to hold it for him. "Listen carefully, Towers," Shadow snarled through gnashed teeth. "I don't give a shit how thoroughly you guys have modified the software of that killing machine. It's still running on an AI once designed by Eggman. I don't trust it. Not one bit. And should that walking toaster choose to become my enemy, I will fight like I always have!" The Mobian disconnected the call without waiting for a reply.

It took him a moment to get his breathing and pulse back into a healthy rhythm. However, his attempt to center himself and fight down the anger that was welling up inside him was only moderately successful.

He slowly sat up in bed and groaned as an excruciating pain exploded behind his temples. Great, he thought. So today's hangover will be just as hellish as that fucked up dream. He opened his eyes, but immediately regretted his decision when even the small amount of light that managed to make its way through the dirty window above his bed pierced them like red-hot needles. Again he grunted in pain.

The glance outside revealed that it was raining heavily. Dark clouds hung over the city like oil-soaked cotton balls, releasing a torrential stream of water that pelted against the glass and ran down on it in rivulets. At least the weather matches the situation, Shadow formed a complaint in his mind. Eggman on the rise. Omega on the way. And these nightmares are becoming stronger than ever since I have arrived in this strange city.

Trying to wriggle himself out of the clutches of his blanket with one hand, he brought the bottle back to his mouth and drank with long, greedy gulps. The sour liquid ignited a ball of fire in his guts, sending a sensation of heat through his body strong enough to spread into every limb, yet unable to do anything against the coldness in his heart.

This time, not even numbing himself with alcohol had helped to keep the dreams away. Once again, his subconscious had taken over while he slept, while he was defenseless, and turned one of the most precious and beautiful moments of his time with Maria into a grisly nightmare.

Why did she have to die? Why did everything had to go so terribly wrong?

If only it hadn't been for that Doctor Rashwami. If only he had realized why the man had been in such a hurry. If only he had read the doctor's expression correctly. I thought it was confusion. Maria thought it was surprise. But we were both wrong. In truth, it had been an expression of revulsion, of sheer disgust. Disgust at the realization that the friendship between me and Gerald's granddaughter had grown into love. Disgust at the fact that in our love we had fathered a child together.

It later turned out that Rashwami hadn't intended to tell Gerald at all. Instead, he had run straight to the ARK's communications center. He had informed the government about Gerald's experiments and revealed to them that he was secretly using one of the clones to research a cure for his granddaughter's illness. Three days later, G.U.N. had stormed the space station to arrest Gerald and confiscate all of his work.

When the old man realized that the game was over, that he had been betrayed, and that the authorities would take away everything that was important to him, everything that had ever meant somehting to him, he must have decided to destroy his entire life's work. Accepting the deaths of hundreds of colleagues and employees, he had initiated the irreversible self-destruction process of the ARK, triggering a panic that turned the evacuation into a bloody chaos. And when the soldiers tried to stop him, the shooting started.

He could still hear Maria's voice in his head, could still hear her speaking. 'They shot him... they shot around... Tried to help grandpa... Got in the way...'

But as much as he wanted to, he couldn't blame the soldiers. He couldn't blame G.U.N. They had shown him the last few minutes of what the surveillance cameras on board of the ARK had recorded. The restored backup of the grainy footage was blurry and full of image artifacts, but it revealed the raw truth, pictures that were etched into his memory forever.

Gerald shot first.

With one last deep gulp, he emptied the bottle to the dregs.

It had taken him a long time to accept that there was no one he could hold responsible for Maria's death. No one he could hold accountable. No one he could take revenge on.

He didn't need a psychologist to figure out that in his despair he was taking out his pain and frustration on anyone who messed with him. He was deceiving himself. He had no desire for revenge. He only craved destruction. His only lust was to fuel the hatred in his heart until there was nothing left of love itself. Until there was nothing left that could hurt him.

Yes, I helped to save the world, he thought, his eyes tearing up. Over and over again. But am I really helping to make it a better place? Am I really the person she wanted me to be?

'Promise me,' Maria said in his head. 'Promise me... Promise me...'

The tears began to run down Shadow's cheeks and over his lips, leaving a taste as bitter as the sorrow in his soul.

Am I still the person she loved?

Suddenly, his stomach turned.

...