"He's a failure. I'll have to wipe his mind again." Robotnik snarls, speaking to the face on the screen.

"That's an expensive process..." The disembodied voice Robotnik's master speaks not of monetary cost, however, and Robotnik knows it.

"It must be done. I will have his power!" A hiss emanates from the screen. Robotnik, catching his tragic error, panics and coughs, "I mean, we will have his power."

"Correct. Don't forget that it was I who orchestrated all this. Once you have harnessed his power and given it to me, I will give you the world." The godly voice booms, his words pointed.

"The world...?" Robotnik breathes, salivating.

"The world. Now go. Wipe his mind, make him the perfect killing machine for me. And don't let that Sonic near him-don't even let him watch newscasts. Corrupting the evil that we try to instill within him before it's fully deep-set will ruin everything."

"But, if we wipe his mind too often it will deteriorate," Robotnik protests.

"Then don't fail again." Venom drips from the voice and Robotnik cringes. It is not a suggestion, but a threat...and one easily fulfilled, Robotnik could attest to that.

"Of course, Lord..." Robotnik gulps as the transmission cuts out. He turns around and addresses the robot standing guard. "Get Shadow. Make sure he's knocked out. And have someone go organize a bake sale or something, get us back the funding we need."

The robot bobs its head and exits. Robotnik is left alone with a blank screen and his own thoughts. His thoughts race around inside of his mind. Many of My Lord's schemes are too intricate for me to follow, but this one is shockingly simple and pointless. I'll admit-this child is a prodigy, and yet he is still a child. This war is no place for a child, especially not on the front lines as Lord plans!

Again, kidnapping a boy from his parents and forcing him into a life of crime and assassination isn't precisely my cup of tea but this boy, not only a prodigy, was named 'Shadow'. His mother named him Shadow. Why? Why would she break famililial traditions? And why won't my Leige tell me the reason for this, for wiping his mind every time he begins to show humanity, for having the very best of all my army chosen to teach him? What could possibly become of this boy?

Robotnik whirls around as one of his robots drags itself in, carrying a ball of black-and-red fur in its arms like a precious jewel. "Where do I put this, Master?"

"You know where." Robotnik growls grimly. The robot nods, devoid of emotion, and takes the ball of fur over to a large metal bed nailed upright into the wall. Using the straps conveniently placed just so-as if molded for the child-to secure the body; it ensures that Shadow will not move even a hair's breadth as his memories, his persona, his soul is ripped cruelly from him. When the boy awakes, he will have no recollection of who he was, or anything that happened. He will only know what I tell him... The training, the First Talk will be remembered. Those skills have been so deeply ingrained within him that they are second nature, and the First Talk is the one thing to be allowed to remain. Sudden sadness spears Robotnik's heart. I have done many cruel, heartless things, but this? This...it was difficult enough to bear the first time. Do I really have the...capability...to do it again?

But he had received his orders. To go against them was death. To follow them was death of another kind...death of another little piece of his soul. Robotnik fingered the lever on the machine, hesitating. Just a pull of the lever and it's all gone. His past, his conscience, his personality. All gone. Forevermore.

Robotnik looked at the sleeping face of Shadow. His eyebrows slant gently downwards, his eyelashes fluttering gently as he dreams. His mouth is slightly open, revealing his little white fangs, and his chest-fluff (puffing out around a thick, tight belt from the metal clasp around his chest) just barely grazes his chin. His ears are soft triangular shapes, sloping forward. The fluorescent lights cast him in a sickly, pale light and yet he still seems angelic. His face is still young, but with only a trace of the roundness of childhood, and he breathes ever so softly. At that moment, Robotnik could no more erase his mind than stab a cute, small animal to death with a spoon. His will falters. The entirety of the horrible things he's done to this innocent child is nearly too much to bear.

The robot notices his weakness. Humans. Unpredictable, emotional creatures. Lunging forward, it slams down on the lever and the machine starts up with a whirr. Robotnik turns to his loyal companion, a look of question upon his face.

"You would not have, Master. Human weakness." It says blankly.

"I-Indeed...I must learn to curb my...feeble tendencies..." He forces himself to turn, to watch the machine as it starts up, sucking down much energy from his base. Finally, after a long, tense waiting silence filled only by the machine's noise, three prongs of metal extend from the ceiling. They stop moving once the tips have fallen to around Shadow's chest, and bright green electricity is charged between them. Robotnik swallows. He knows what will happen next. But remember, all of this pain is so you may have the world.

The electricity thickens, buzzing loudly. Robotnik takes a step back, greatful for the little sunglasses on his face. The entire room, now bathed in sickening green light, crackles with static. Finally, once the machine could hold no more, the current releases upon Shadow's head. He howls in pain, straining against the straps that bind him, screaming for mercy. Throwing his head back as the energy increases, he screeches to the skies above, thrashing in a desperate attempt to get free and escape with even the tiniest thread of his mind intact. He can't even open his eyes, can't even face this menace down in combat, yet still he fights.

All his effort is for naught. The machine turns off, having fulfilled its duty, and Shadow's body goes limp. His face is slack, devoid now of emotion. Not even the peace of his dreams shows upon his face, and as the robot undoes the restraints and picks him up, Robotnik would swear that he saw a single tear fall from the little hedgehog's eye.

----------------

A flash of pain sears through my mind, and I sit bolt upright. Stumbling out of bed, I stagger into the bathroom, turning on the sinks and splashing water on my face. I open my eyes, trying to shake the nightmare, but all I can see is green. I splutter, spitting out freezing-cold tap water that I just almost shoved down the wrong side of my throat. Coughing, I dry my face off with a nearby towel, the bright green still staining my eyelids, an afterimage of the one penetrating my mind's eye. A powerful nightmare, that is...

Dropping the towel on my floor and blinking away the light, I look into the mirror. I seem to be undamaged, my fur only barely ruffled by sleep. Fake fur, I remind myself, fake fur. You're not alive; you just look like it. A pretty, shiny little disc hangs from my neck by a thick purple ribbon.

Clever, my Master is, to make robots that look like living animals. Undercover is far easier when you can impersonate one of those buggers rather than show up all shiny and metal and angular. No one in the world trusts a robot right now-not since that blasted Sonic showed up. Using the Chaos Emeralds for good-that's a hoot! Sensible folks like me, robots immune to his magic, are not fooled by his lies. Robotnik is the force of good, bent upon overthrowing this menace and reuniting the world as it was before I was even a thought in his brilliant mind. For a human, Master must be old, I mused as I corrected my faux fur, older than most of us. Maybe even 30.

Shaking my head to clear myself of deep thought-I have an important mission today-I step up to my bedroom door. It slides open with a satisfying KSSSHHHH, allowing me to pass. I didn't even have to find a doorknob, I chuckle to myself as I walk through the entryway, remembering my first day. Then, something gives me pause. When was my first day? I can't quite recall... In fact, what was my mission yesterday?

E-707-ALPHA, a 'friend' of mine (we aren't really friends, but I can't bear to break it to him), bumps into me from behind then falls into step beside me. "Greetings, comrade! Shall we go get our missions together today?"

"Uh, sure, 707. Let's go." I push my thoughts down and carry on with business as usual. Can't afford to be distracted if I'm to snatch the enemy's funds today. As 707 and I walk along, we engage in meaningless casual chatter (did you see how messed up 306 was after facing Sonic? 889 didn't earn that upgrade he got--cheater! Have you heard the news about 559?!) until I'm so sick of the little chatterbox I'm half-tempted to turn myself off and pretend I got a virus. Just as my patience is wearing thinner than paper, a call comes on over the PA system.

"Shadow the Hedgehog, report to Special Missions for a Special Mission." A smooth voice booms from a hallway speaker. I can't help but think: why else would I go to Special Missions? To pick up my dry-cleaning?

"Special Mission?! Lucky..." 707 grumbles as I abruptly change direction. Thank you, thank you, thank you, I say over and over again in my mind. To who, I don't know. Just...thank you. Looking around, I realize that somehow, even though I can't recall if I've ever been there, I'm right outside Special Missions. Odd. Guess I must have been here before... Again, I can't recall! So weird! It's like I'm forgetting everything. Shrugging it off and attributing it to my rattling nightmare, I stick my bare hand on the door key.

The little scanner whirrs and says, "Shadow the Hedgehog--approved for Entry. Enter." I blink at the door as it opens with a little 'Whirrr' noise. Stepping into the room, I glance about. Small and sparse, like some kind of closet. Its humble appearance belies its very important purpose-this is where select robots are given missions of great importance. And today, I become one of those important robots!

I pace forth into the room, scanning for any signs of life in the room, but it is empty. The door quietly hisses closed behind me, and the room goes dark. No problem. I have excellent sight. Looking about me, I can pick up on a few details. A desk, with a dumb little placard. The placard is blank (why?). There's a computer monitor, but it obviously isn't on, otherwise there would be light. No one is sitting at the desk. Nobody in here but me. For a reason I can't fathom, I'm drawn to go sit down at the chair. I mean, might as well. No one's here and until they get there, why not give my legs a rest?

Just as I sit down, the monitor pops on, nearly scaring me half to death. A Sub-Commander's face is on the screen, its beady blue eyes boring into mine. I fall out of the chair, freaked-out beyond belief. What the heck?! Why can't I just get some little slip of paper with my mission on it?!

"Shadow. I have your mission for you, Sub-Lieutenant." The robot's voice is snobbish as it says 'Sub-Lieutenant,' as if my rank were something to sneeze at. I'm working on it, Mr. High-and-Mighty. "You are given the high honor," again with the snooty voice, "of re-collecting our funds after Sonic stole half of them. Your specifics: Go to the Sonic Bank-"

"The vermin has a bank named after him?" I interrupt, forgetting my place as I scramble back into my chair.

Irritated at having to stop and explain something to a Sub-Lieutenant (God forbid), the robot snaps, "Yes, he does. It's a very high-end bank with lots of security, where important people keep their money. You get to go in and steal all of it."

"All of it?" I interrupt again.

The robot, now more irritated than ever, roars, "Yes, all of it, Shadow! And do it quickly. I heard if you succeed, then there'll be a promotion in store for you-maybe you'll even get to be a Lieutenant." The voice giggles cruelly and the monitor turns off again.

If I ever, and I mean EVER, see that robot again, I am gonna clobber it SO HARD it'll never look the same. I seethe, wishing that I could crush the life out of that smart-aleck. You think you're better than me? You wish! Getting up out of my chair, I stretch and go back towards the door, feeling more than a little disappointed. My first Special Mission and instead of some super-secret assassination or something exciting, I get 'go rob a bank' and 'Suuuub-Lieutenaaant!' Seems odd to me, how some people seem to think that singing a word terribly and stretching it out makes it seem more degrading. It also seems odd that such a technique works.

Stupid psychology.

Walking through the door and out of the very dark room, my eyes rapidly adjusted to the incredibly bright hallway. Don't look your gift horse in the mouth, Shadow. At least you can say that you've had a special mission. That's something to wave under people's noses! Smirking to myself, I walk past several envious robots, which shoot me jealous glares. Yeah, that's right. Special Mission Shadow walking around in front of Ordinary Mission robots! Eat it!

Swaggering down the hallways, I make my way towards the area of the base where we keep the fighter jets. I can't help but almost burst into song (though all I do is skip). I'm goin' to New York City, baby!

----------------

Tmp. *clink*. Tmp. *clink*. Tmp. *clink*. Tmp.

The steady sound of bare feet on linoleum coupled with my pendant clinking against my metal skin is the only sound in the bank's hallways as I traipse about. Looking about me, I realize that I must have knocked out every single guard in the building. There's no one on any of the floors anymore. I've got sacks of cash in my jet, so much so that it's overflowing with dough! If that doesn't land me a promotion, nothing will. I have money stuck in my spines, tucked under my chest-fluff, and practically inside my ear. I look more like a black-and-green hedgehog than a black-and-red one. But that's fine-it's just an image. Underneath I'm the same jumbled mess of cables, connecting wires and hardware that I was before.

"Well, somebody's leavin' here loaded." A smooth voice suddenly purrs from behind me. Startled, I whirl around and stare at the newcomer. All I see is a silhouette-ah, someone else who uses the shadows to hide their identity-of a peculiar figure. The voice is undoubtedly feminine, and yet they must be wearing some kind of huge backpack. I think that she's a bat or a fox or something-two huge triangles protrude up from her head and I hope they're ears. If they aren't then I have no clue what she is.

"Who are you?" I growl, suspicious. "Why are you here?"

"Oh, don't worry, gorgeous. I'm here for the same reason you are. Getting cash for my cause!" She giggles, stepping forward into the light. For a second, I am struck dumb. In a word, she is beautiful.

The girl is thin, with a pair of huge ears protruding from the top of her head and the longest eyelashes you have ever seen. Her eyes are an interesting shade of greenish-blue: sea-foam green with just a slight bit of emerald-green laced in. Dark blue undertones give her eyes the depth of an ocean, with lighter blue reflections mimicking the beauty of a crystal-clear river. She has short hair, coming around chin length and curling upwards and away from her face.

She wears a simple pair of slim-cut, skinny blue jeans and a purple tank top bearing a heart. Bright green flip-flops draw attention to her perfectly painted toenails, and a necklace bearing a rainbow-colored 'LOVE' rests on her collarbone.

She notices me examining her. "Soooo, you liking what you're seeing?" She smiles flirtatiously at me, and my cheeks burn.

Feigning disinterest, I hiss, "Don't feel special. I have to remember everyone I see," I look her in the eye, "especially someone as experienced as you seem to be in theft."

"Oh, I'm experienced all right, this is my job. I go and do stuff like this all the time, steal from important places and give it to my cause. Why are you here, though? You don't look like anyone's follower and you're also not exactly the type to steal from here for thrills. You also don't seem to be a common crook. So, who are you?" She shifts position, lowering one blue eyelid at me as she speaks.

"I asked you first." Not quite as wary as before, I relax just a little bit.

"You did, now didn't you? My name is Rouge. Rouge the Bat. I'm here for the government, taking money from some rich dirtbag who took if from orphanages or something. Basically, embezzling the embezzler. You?"

Deciding that I like her, I proceed with my usual cover name: "My name is Umbra. I'm here for Robotnik's cause."

"Umbra, you say?" She purrs pleasantly, knowingly, "And you're working for that Robotnik? What has he told you of Sonic?"

"You mightn't believe me if I told you."

"Try me."

I halted. Perhaps she is immune as well...at the very least, if she tries to attack me I can just kill her. It'd be a right shame, though, pretty thing as she is. I don't want to stain her ivory fur with blood-it looks like she maintains it well. "He's evil."

"And? He tell you anything else?" So far, Rouge seems to be listening.

"He's controlling nearly everyone's minds. Using the Chaos Emeralds."

"How would he do that?"

"Ask him yourself." I cross my arms.

She chuckles. "You've got fire, Umbra. Spunk. I like that. But have you ever considered listening to anyone else?"

"Of course not. Robotnik created me."

"Huh?" Genuine confusion spreads across her face.

"I'm not a hedgehog. I'm a robot, made to look like a hedgehog."

"Pretty darn good impersonation."

"Thanks." I think.

"But," she stops for effect, "what if Robotnik was lying to you?"

"About what?" I had become lost as to where the conversation was right now.

"About Sonic. Maybe Sonic's not the evil one." Her stressing of the word 'Sonic' gave me pause.

"Then who is?" I ask, an obvious edge in my voice.

"I don't know. That's for you to decide."

"Decide...?" This Rogue is a very confusing woman.

"Yes, decide." She inspects me for a second, and inquires, "Loyalty is obviously important to you. But are you blinded by that loyalty?"

Baffled now, I have to think carefully on my answer. For some odd reason, I really want to make a good impression on Rouge. "Blinded?" I echo, immediately feeling foolish. I sound like some kind of parrot! I scramble to follow that up with something decent. "How could loyalty be blinding? What do you mean?"

"I mean, you're so focused on what Robotnik's telling you, are you sure that's the only right story?"

"Huh?" Yep, definitely coming off as barely brighter than a doorknob there, Shadow...

"Look, there's no clearer way to say it than this: Are you certain that Robotnik is telling you the truth, or at least all of it? Do you even know the guy?"

"Of course I know him! He's my father, my creator! Why would he lie to me?" Anger flashes through me. How dare she! She doesn't even know him!

She laughs. "Easy, boy, easy. Just a suggestion." Looking me in the eyes, she grins. "You're cute when you're annoyed."

All I do is blink. There's no proper response I can think of, and as I feel my cheeks burn I stand mutely. My first interaction with creatures outside of the Sky Fortress and I meet this peculiar woman! After about the third blink, she disappears. Startled, I rapidly glance about. The only sign of her is a whoosh of air and a playful giggle.

She's gone.

Looking about, I smile to myself. If only she were on Robotnik's side... I continue down the hallway, calmly but surely. Somehow, I feel like she's still there...and my thoughts are confirmed when I hear her chuckle, "Let's be friends...Umbra." The way she says 'Umbra' makes me feel like she knows that I'm not actually named Umbra. Maybe she even knows Latin.

My grin widens. "Yes, let's, Rouge." Our little secret. A dollar bill floats to the ground as I continue to make my way back up the tall, tall building to my jet. For the first time in a long time--I think--I feel genuinely happy. A friend. I have a friend.

My footfalls, coupled with my pendant, are once again the only sound in the hallways as Rouge silently snatches the dropped dollar before it hits the ground.

*clink*. Tmp. *clink*. Tmp. *clink*. Tmp.

*Giggle*

----------------

"Mission successful, Master." I say to the floor, pressing my forehead to the concrete. Kneeling in utmost respect with my hands pressed to the ground, one in front of my head and the other beside my right knee, I pay respect to my Master.

"Good job, Shadow. This will cover what Sonic stole and more. I think," Master smiles and steps forward, his black boots right in front of my head, "that a promotion is in order."

Trembling with anticipation, I say, "M-Master?"

"In reward for your over-achievement, you are now a Sub-Commander."

"S-Sub-Commander?!" I cry, stunned. Being Sub-Commander would mean that I'd get my own squad-a team of three robots, myself included-and I'd have more pull around here. It's a decent bit of a jump, going from Sub-Lieutenant (a member of a Sub-Commander team) to Sub-Commander. "Master, thank you!"

"Who would you like to have on your team?" Master asks cordially.

After a moment's thought, I state the names of my two best friends: "Heather and E-123 OMEGA, please sir."

Master chuckles knowingly. "But of course. You three work well together. Consider it done."

"Thank you, Master."

"Make me proud, Shadow."

"I promise, Master."

Master turns away from me. I hear his boots clack away, and then the sound of a door sliding shut. As soon as I am certain he is gone, I stand up and rush to the door behind me, bursting with the good news. The door slides open with a KSSSHHH! Heather and Omega are already there, with Heather grinning like an idiot and Omega-as usual-standing emotionlessly.

Omega is a hefty robot, measuring at about four feet and eleven inches. He weighs 2712.82 pounds, has red eyes, and is quite the angular robot. His color scheme is red, black, yellow, green and a silvery grey. His arms are thin and lengthy, reaching down to his feet with long sharp fingers. On his left shoulder-a block leading to a thin pole of an arm, covered by a large hollow metal oval concealing about 360 different kinds of weapons-is the Greek letter Omega. And don't ask me why or how I know all this.

"Have you heard the news?" I say casually.

"You bet! I'm so glad!" Heather squeals. "We're a team! It's gonna be so fun!"

"We have our first mission tomorrow." Omega rumbles, "We had best recharge as much as possible in preparation."

"You're right. But let's get to our new quarters first!" Heather bounces up and down.

"Agreed. We need to get settled first." I say, taking both of them by the arms and beginning to walk down the hall.

"We're gonna do great!" Heather sings confidently, causing both Omega and I to roll our eyes.

"You are too cheerful." Omega says matter-of-factly.

"And you need to lighten up." She shoots back.

"I think you both need to shut up." I offer.

"Stow it, Shadow!" Heather and Omega say at the same time, as if they had rehearsed it.

"Oh, yes, this thing's gonna work out real well." I growl. "From this point on, I'm not your buddy Shadow. Now I'm your Sub-Commander! So listen to what I say."

"Bossy much?" Heather snorts.

"He has a point. Chain of command indicates that, now, Shadow is our superior."

"Yeah, but we're not in battle right now. Outside of missions we can still act like we always do, can't we?" Heather looks to me for affirmation.

"Of course we can, knucklehead!" I chuckle, giving her a punch in the arm. "I was just messing with you. We're still a little family, right Omega?"

"If you say so..." Omega rumbles unconvincingly. For a while, we walk in silence. Most of the other robots in the hall give us jealous looks as we pass them. We bask in the glory of our sudden popularity boost, loving every second of it. It's not often that any one robot out of the 750,000,000,001 other ones gets a lot of attention like this, let alone all three of us (even if Heather's not a robot). We all continue to exchange knowing glances, acting high-and-mighty. In fact, at one point as we passed the Sub-Commander who sneered at me that morning I snubbed him quite righteously, as so:

I nudged Heather over, forcing her to bump into him. When he protested, I glanced over as if seeing him for the first time. "Oh! Sub-Commander 932! Sorry, I didn't see you there. So, where's your squad?"

Sub-Commander 932 just glared at me mutely, seething with rage. A few days ago, Sub-Commander 932 sent all of his squad to death at the hand of Sonic. General incompetence, inexperience. Stupidity. After Sub-Commander 932 had stomped onward, Heather laughed and high-fived me. "NICE, man! He looked so steamed..."

"I have to say, the words you chose to say to Sub-Commander 932 were incredibly biting, but were they deserved?" Omega blinks at me.

"He snubbed me this morning."

"Ah." Omega turns away, seeming satisfied with my answer.

After a long silence, we stop in front of our new barracks. We actually get rooms all to ourselves in this one, rather than our old ones where we were supposed to share. I was one of the lucky ones, seeing as how I did get a room all to myself. But that would have changed once Robotnik built another robot. Here, I don't ever have to worry about sharing. Ever!

The doors open silently--unused and still freshly greased--and we walk into the planning room. It's simple: a round table, six chairs, and a whiteboard. Six doors, each leading to a separate room with a separate bathroom. Heather dashes in with a squeal. "Look at all the space!"

"Indeed, there is a decent amount of living space here." Omega surveys the room.

"I'll say. Looks like this is where we'll be making mission plans. We've gotta get up early tomorrow, so everyone off to your rooms." I command, heading right for the nearest door. All of the rooms, I expect, will be the same: a bed, a desk, a bathroom, maybe a chair or two. Or a window, a window would be nice. The door slides open, and I step into... exactly what I was expecting.

The walls are made of silvery steel, each one a single smooth panel, with a metal bed frame as well. The bed sheets are red, and there is a little wooden desk with paper and a pencil on it. A single circular window gives me a lovely view of the sunset. This room is perfect for me. Simple, with a sunset view, and I can see the curvature of the Earth at this altitude.

As I climb into the bed for some well-deserved sleep, my thoughts turn back to the peculiar Rouge woman that I met. I wondered how old she was. She looked a bit older than I am built to be, but not by much. I'd say around 12. Her ears were huge, I thought sleepily as my eyelids shut, but I like the way she thinks...

Over time my team and I, referred to as Team Dark, rose through the ranks. Success after success gave us quite the reputation, and pretty soon we were known as the best of the best. Our status was the highest, and we had people begging to be trained by us but we were too busy. The missions we were given became more and more important as time went on, and we never failed to please. Robotnik was so very happy with us that one day he called us up and told us that we were needed for a very important mission: Kill Sonic.

Robotnik had trustworthy sources who told him that Sonic would be rolling through New York at midnight, carrying all seven of the Chaos Emeralds with him. We were to leave the base at nine P.M., set up shop, and wait for him. All three of us were psyching ourselves up, readying for the ever-important final mission. Excitement caused my heart to flutter, and I felt like my inner workings were trying to tie themselves in knots.

For me, it felt like my first real mission. This was what I'd 'signed onto' Robotnik's army for, this was my purpose in life. What I was created to do. Robotnik dropped by himself a few minutes before we left to check our plans out and give me a gift. What he gave me...I still have.

My gloves and shoes. The gloves are ivory-white, so clean and beautiful. They have black-and-red cuffs on them, with the black part on the back side of my wrist and the red on the front. He also gave me a pair of shiny gold bangles, one for each wrist. They fit tightly, but don't limit my mobility. My shoes came with a set too. The shoes are very unique, with jets on the bottom for air propulsion, and the exact right color scheme for me. My socks have the same cuffs as my gloves, and the metal shoes echo those colors. The heels, from the gold cuff to the edge of my heel, are red, and then there is a thick stripe of black forming the arch. The bottoms are red, and the red comes up from the bottom of the shoe about a half-inch up. The rest of the shoe is white. All of the air vents are gold, and the air that comes out can be hot or cold depending upon how I want it to be.

They are the best gifts I have ever been given, and perhaps the best ones I will ever be given. I adored them on sight.

"Nice, Shadow! Now you're not stark naked!" Heather chuckles as we board our jet.

"Stuff it, Heather. My fur is my clothes. These shoes will help me leap across the New York rooftops and with gloves I don't leave fingerprints." I snap, more than a little tense.

"Calm yourself. If you over analyze, your mind may be unable to function properly." Omega rumbles from behind me.

"Got it." I say, taking the wheel. At a single press of the button, the engine started up with a howl. The hangar doors slide open, and with a roar we were on our way.

Heather, riding shotgun, twists around in her seat to get a final glimpse of the Sky Fortress. "Look, Shadow! It looks beautiful, bathed in the moon's light as it is!"

"Can't look now, Heather, I'm driving." I say, focused on the sky in front of me.

"Don't you mean flying?" Omega points out.

Sighing, I don't even dignify that with a response. After a tense silence, I finally spoke up. "Well, does everyone remember the plan?"

"Yeah, I've got it down. We just have to position ourselves to block both ends of the street while you swoop in and get 'im. Right?" Heather turns back to me.

"Yes. That's the plan. You got it down, Omega?"

"Saved to memory."

"Good." I sigh, releasing some of my tension. "I'm glad that, out of all the nimrods in the army, I'm here with you morons." After another momentary silence, all three of us burst out laughing. I land the jet expertly, then turn around and put a finger to my lips. "Shhhhhh... We can't let him know we're here."

"Right!" Omega and Heather whisper. Well, Heather whispers. Omega really only has one volume setting.

"Get into position. I'll go to the little alleyway." Our plan is as follows: Heather and Omega split up to block Sonic if he were to turn and run. I was to wait from a dark alleyway for him to pass, then slink up behind him and ambush him. Once I had murdered him-something I've never tried to do before and would take a decent bit of skill (murdering him, I mean, not just murder)-I would take the Emeralds and anything else of value he had and bring it back. Simple, elegant, effective.

Sonic will die tonight. That I'll make sure of.

Hopping out of the jet on silent feet, I begin to run along the rooftop to catch up to Sonic. Luckily, the entire street is deserted save for the vermin (what're the odds?), and we were able to pinpoint him in no time. Catching up to him, I leapt over a few more rooftops with Omega, stopping a few hundred feet ahead of him, and Omega continues on to go about a thousand feet ahead of him. Diving off the rooftop, I landed securely on my feet behind a Dumpster. All to do now is: wait...

Sonic walks by, clutching a Chaos Emerald in his hand and whistling nervously. He keeps glancing about frightfully. I recognize the theme to Castle as the notes he whistles. Everything was in place now... and it all relied on me. I watch him with glowing red eyes, the moonlight reflecting off my irises. Once he fully passed me, and was about two yards ahead of me, I crept out from behind the Dumpster. Slinking up beside him, pressed to the building wall, I take a deep breath...

...And I leap.

It all seems to slow down as I lunge. Sonic pauses under a streetlight, sensing someone there. As he turns, my face enters the lamp light and he screams like a little girl, dropping the Chaos Emerald. His mouth opens wider than I thought possible, his eyes popping out of his head with tears at the edges, and my coiled-up leg lashes out in a heartbeat, slamming into his chest. A CRACK sounds throughout the avenue, and as he flies backwards from the force of my blow my gloved hand snaps up the Chaos Emerald from the middle of the air. Sonic hits the ground on his back, the rest of the Chaos Emeralds falling out of his pockets (uh, does he even have pockets though?). My flight continues, aided by my new shoes, and I land with my right leg on his chest, my left hand grasping his throat and my right arm pulling the Chaos Emerald I caught as far away from him as possible. His wide eyes stare into mine and I can see my own face reflected in them. Within the reflection, I see myself as he sees me, and I perfect my scary face, furrowing one brow and letting the other stand normally, with a snarl on my lips. I look frightening... I love it.

Using the sickly-sweet, intimidating voice my tutor, Lightpaws, taught me, I say, "You're moving off awful fast with-Oh!" I look at the Chaos Emerald as if seeing it for the first time. "A Chaos Emerald? My, my, Sonic... How on Earth did you come by this?"

"Wh-who are you?!" Sonic asks in a trembling, terror-filled voice.

I snicker. As I switch my right hand from Chaos Emerald to blade, I hiss, "I'm your worst nightmare." Pressing the blade to his throat, I giggle cruelly. I want him to die in terror, suffering for all the robot deaths he caused. He starts to sweat, letting out a horrified whimper. I was completely ready to yank on the knife and slit his throat, but something made me hesitate...

His eyes...I stare into the two green disks. They're just like mine... He looks so like me. They say the eyes are windows to the soul. I look at my eyes in the mirror every day, and now as I look into his...I see myself reflected within him. And I'm not talking about the ordinary reflective properties of the pupils; I'm talking about a soul. His soul reminds me so much of mine... I looked into his eyes and saw myself. The looking-into-a-mirror effect nearly stopped my mechanical heart. Take away fur and eye color, and we are twins. Twins...

Suddenly, we were so similar. I could almost tell what he was thinking, and the terror in his eyes...somehow, it seemed so familiar, like a lost memory not entirely recovered. My expression changes and I watch in his pupils as sadness manifests itself within me and it shows. A little voice in my mind screeches, what's the matter with you?! Are you going soft?! Just slit his throat and be on your way!

But I know I can't obey. Maybe there is something wrong with me. Maybe I am going soft, but I know that I can't do it. Confusion blossoms in Sonic's eyes as I hesitate, struggling with myself. Who will I be? Hero or villain? Is this his spell? Am I corrupt now because of this? What do I do? How can I tell if I'm under a spell? A billion questions race through my head but I have no answers. As the seconds wear on, I can feel Sonic's pulse under my left hand, and when he swallows the blade slices a shallow cut in his neck. Blood runs from the wound, sticky, warm blood, seeping into my glove. I ignore the sensation-seemingly so familiar, and yet now, suddenly, so frightening, horrifying-and simply look Sonic in the eye.

Finally, I make a decision. Retracting the blade, I whirl away from him, feeling sick.

Am I doing the right thing? Grabbing the dropped Chaos Emeralds, I bolt for the building's wall. He sits up, surprised, and in my haste to scale the wall I kick over a trash can, drawing Sonic's attention. He gasps, his eyes following me up as I make my quick ascent. At the top, I stop and turn around, looking down at him. A little niggle of doubt had wedged its way into my brain. Am I being played...? How can someone so like me possibly be evil?

I must find out more.

----------------

"So, you met him?"

It's late, closer to the next morning than the night, and I am alone in my room. My window, I discovered, opens. The mysterious Rouge-a year older now-had appeared an hour after I got back from my mission, which was met with both approval and disapproval. Robotnik was pleased to have the Chaos Emeralds back, but didn't believe my story when I told him of Sonic fleeing. I had a convincing story-I had slashed at him, he kicked me, I had hit him in the chest with a perfect Tiger Strike, causing his blood to get on my left hand (and only my left hand). When he hit the pavement, the Chaos Emeralds fell and Sonic fled. I took the Emeralds and made my way back. What had really happened was between me, Heather, and Omega-both of whom had been silent ever since we got into the jet to go back.

"Yeah," I swallow, my throat dry, "I met him."

"'I'? Not 'we'?" She asks pointedly.

"Yes. I."

"So you were the one on the front lines? The one holding the gun to his head?"

"There was no gun," I growl, not amused by her.

"Oh?"

"There was a knife," I explain.

"Ahh, the good ol' tried-and-true, trusty knife, huh? Kinda up-close and personal, isn't it?"

"Too personal," I snap, not really in the mood to discuss this. I'm not even sure how she bypassed security and got here. I don't want her here.

"What did you see? What stopped you?" She suddenly looks eager, hungry to know.

"I don't want to talk about it." Turning away from her, I scowl into the corner. The room's too small for me to walk off.

"I understand that you don't want to talk, but I need to know. I have to know what you saw. What changed your mind?" Rouge puts a hand on my shoulder, gently.

I sigh. Somehow, I feel as though I can tell her but not Omega or Heather. "I looked into his eyes and saw myself. We..." I search for the proper words, "we were like long-lost twins or something. I just-I didn't understand how if we were so alike, how he could be evil..." I trailed off, feeling silly. That can't possibly be right, can it?

"He's not. You know that now." Rouge removes her hand from my shoulder, "Like it or not."

I turn, but she's disappeared. I wished that I could confront her on what she said, but there's no trace of her left. Swallowing hard, I glance about the room in a desperate search for her, but to no avail. Rouge really is gone without a single trace. Annoying.

As I climb into my bed, I think about her last words. You know that now...like it or not.

Like it or not...

----------------

"There's something he's not telling me. I just know it. But what?"

"You expect me to have answers? Fool! I care not, so long as he is still loyal!" The silhouette snaps, sounding annoyed.

"That's the thing!" Robotnik slams a fist onto the table, "I don't know if he is."

There's a slight pause. "What do you mean?" The voice snarls dangerously.

"Something happened to him, something bad. When he came back, he didn't look right. Almost...sick." He scratches the side of his head, trying to articulate his thoughts into words.

"But is that treacherous?" The dark figure shifts position.

"Only if he finds out about...well, you know."

"Indeed I do. See to it that, whatever it is, it won't harm the plan. And keep working on that machine, child... I fear it will be most necessary."

"Yes, Master..." Robotnik moves to cut off the interaction.

"Wait." The silhouette growls.

"Master?" He freezes.

"I think it would be best if the purple one...disappeared."

"D-disa-?" Robotnik's eyes widen.

"Take her out of the picture. Keep her away--don't worry, she'll understand."

"Of course, Master."

"Goodbye," The silhouette replies, and the communication ends.

Robotnik swallows, his hands shaking. How can I do this? Planning for removing Omega was simple, I have no feelings for him, but Heather? My own 'daughter'? ...It's like asking me to remove Shadow. I can't... But... I have to... His fingers fumble as they hit the intercom button, and suddenly his throat is too dry to do it. To speak the words that change Heather's life forever and set her on another path.

But he must. And how bad a sacrifice can it be? Heather for the world? A single life in exchange for thousands? If you put it like that, this is nothing. This isn't evil. It's a swap...

The button goes *click*. "Heather to Mission Control, please. It's urgent."

He begins to prepare the cell for her as she makes her way over.

It'll take a while...she just got back from her last mission here.