"Soleanna, you say?" The mustache quivers as he talks, bouncing up and down on the doctor's upper lip. "Intriguing, why would he head there?" He reclines in his chair, rubbing his chin with one hand, the other holding his cellphone to his ear.

"I'm not sure," the blonde woman replies, huddled in an alleyway, looking about anxiously. The payphone isn't exactly in the best part of town, and while her paramedic uniform isn't exactly the most flattering outfit, being a woman, she never knew... "But that's where they're headed. What should my next move be?"

"You ought return now, Medusa. Your fieldwork is done, for now." A grin spreads across Robotnik's face as he leans forward to sit up straight. "Just to make sure--he only has one other hedgehog with him?"

"Yes, Scourge." Medusa assures him. "But that fellow's a bit of a pushover, honestly--just hit him on the head and he'll be out like a light. The two are currently en route to Soleanna, so if you can catch them before they make it, things will be easier for you."

"Thank you, Medusa, you're as helpful as ever!" The evil doctor crows happily. "I'll let you go now. Have a safe trip, dear."

A wide smile stretches unnaturally across her face. "Understood." Hanging up the phone, she steps back, the expression on her face wrinkling it peculiarly; her eyes appear triangular, inhuman--almost snakelike. "Good, good... Soon I'll have my test subject back," she giggles, putting her hands in her pocket, "and phase two can begin~!"

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

Every noise sounds like an approaching footstep; every rustle of wind through the reeds sounds like Sonic closing in, every growl of faraway machinery and every rumble of cars above spells certain doom. Paranoia never gets me anywhere, but it's always here. I'm being too jumpy and I know it, but this horrible sense of foreboding won't go away. Even when the sun's light begins to wane as it approaches the horizon, I still feel anxious and worried. You're overreacting, I tell myself, just calm down. Calm down. Taking a deep, shuddery breath, I squeeze my eyes shut, running my fingers through my tangled hair. My hands stopped bleeding a while ago, but the wounds still sting, and the pain jolts me back to reality. Looking down, I blink in surprise, watching red liquid trail down my palm, originating from my sleeve. Panic flares through me as I involuntarily whip around, turning my back to Scourge as I lift my sleeve. To my horror, the bandages around my wrist are soaked with blood; the whole lower half of my arm had been wrapped due to my frenzied clawing in my sleep, and my guess would be that the activity of this afternoon re-opened my wounds. Swearing softly under my breath, I unravel the disgusting cloth, the coppery scent of blood wafting up. Hurriedly, I tear the bandages off, revealing the harsh, vicious scratches; dark crimson blood still oozes from the deeper ones, and in a rush I fumble to pull the remainder of the bandage-roll out of my pockets. Scrambling, I hastily wrap my arm up, heart pounding. Why aren't they healing? I always heal so quickly--they at least should have stopped bleeding by now! Picking up my used bandages, I wad them into a ball, chucking them far off to my left, out of our way, erasing all traces of my injury as I gingerly tug my sleeve down over my arm again, exhaling a shuddery sigh of relief. At least Scourge didn't see that. The scent of blood still hangs in the air, but it's weaker now, faint and diluted. Still, I think, looking down at myself, how did I not notice that earlier? And how much blood have I lost? My stomach growls suddenly, reminding me that I haven't eaten since that one meager cracker I put in my mouth before I fell asleep, before I wounded myself. How could I forget to eat? Scourge has eaten since then, why didn't I? ...Maybe I just didn't feel hungry? Rummaging around in my hoodie, I find the crackers I failed to finish earlier, and pull them out, relaxing a bit; I'm still crouched with my knees underneath me, but I shuffle my feet slightly to sink a bit deeper to the ground as I unwrap the snack food. It smells pretty great, but I might just be hungry enough to eat anything and everything. Within a few seconds, the crackers are gone, and I jam the empty wrapper back in my pocket for lack of a trash can. My stomach isn't growling as loud as it was before, but I still feel hungry. Despite that, I don't eat anything else--our destination is within a few days' travel, given that we're at least halfway to Soleanna as it is. I'll eat once I get there; the rest of the food should be saved for Scourge, because he has to eat more often than I do.

Speaking of Scourge...He's been asleep for hours. Half of the day, in fact, I realize as I watch the sun dip below the horizon, its final light bleeding away. Turning to look at him, I furrow my brows. He wasn't even doing the most work, which begs the question, why do I refuse to sleep? Who knows, maybe this time I won't have a nightmare. At that thought, I have to stifle a laugh--yeah, right. The only nightmare-free sleep I'll ever get is the eternal rest of the dead! I'm probably going to work myself into the ground on this journey, true, but I know I'll never get a decent, refreshing sleep naturally. If we had sleeping pills, maybe, but something tells me even that wouldn't work. I lean forward, propping myself up with my left arm, elbow resting on my knee, hand cradling my chin. A headache is brewing, right behind my eyes, and my limbs feel heavy, eyelids weighed down as if someone strapped lead to them. Rubbing my temple with my free hand, I groan quietly.

"Do you want me to take over now?" A terrifying, familiar voice whispers in my ear, the sound curling its way about my head. It strangles me, echoing in my head, rattling around in my skull, drowning out all other senses. I clench my jaw, fur bristling as fear snakes its way into my chest.

"No," I hiss, and irritation flashes from the monster as it digs its claws into my temple; I realize now that its talons are to blame for my headache.

"Really?" It snarls dangerously as blood oozes down the side of my head. "Are you sure? Come now, the door's about to open... Not much time left..."

"Can it," I growl, standing up and shrugging it off. Abruptly the air clears, the agony gone, and when I turn around, the monster is nowhere to be found. "I can take care of myself, thanks." I snap to no one in particular.

"Stripes?" A confused, bleary voice sounds from behind me, and I flinch, startled. "Who ya talkin' to?" Scourge yawns, sitting up and rubbing his eyes.

"No one, Scourge," I answer stiffly, crossing my arms, not daring to face him. I can tell that the blood on my face has vanished, but my hands still tremble with terror. It's started appearing in broad daylight, I realize with a gulp. It isn't waiting until I fall asleep.

"Hey, are you okay?" He hefts himself to his feet, popping a few bones. "You look shaken up."

"I'm fine!" I snarl, unsheathing my claws. "Let's just get a move on already." The emerald hedgehog raises an eyebrow, but doesn't protest. "We need to hurry--we're going to climb up onto the highway from here. I can't bear these godforsaken plants anymore."

Sky-blue eyes widen in surprise. "I thought you said that was too dangerous," he tips his head to one side, confused, and I find myself bristling again.

"Well, I changed my mind!" I snap, turning to face the nearest concrete highway support beam. "Don't take forever to catch up," I pitch over my shoulder, shoving my way through the tall grasses. They rake against my skin, catching in my fur, ripping at my jacket, but I could care less. I slash my hands through the plant life, tearing haphazardly, old wounds on my hands tearing open. I don't care. I don't care about any of it. I can't stand these suffocating grasses, can't stand the monster I can still feel beside me, pressing closer and closer, waiting for me to break down. My breathing turns to harsh, ragged gasps, my clawing growing more and more fervent, frantic. If I can just get away, if I can just run, I can leave it behind. I can outrun it. I can outrun my fear. Right? Right? There's an escape, right? It's over there, I just have to get to the highway, it's right over there--in the big, open space, it can't sneak up on me. Dizziness overwhelms me, and I start to stagger, wheezing. I can't get enough air in my lungs--the grass is closing in on me, threatening to engulf me, but I don't dare cry out. An admission of weakness like that is an invitation for the demon. I have to keep fighting, I have to go on, I repeat to myself as I fall to my knees, grasping feebly at the reeds. I'm so close... Almost...there...

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

"Are we in position?" Robotnik growls, perching on the edge of his seat to peer down at his robots.

"Affirmative. Shadow has been sighted." A soldier answers, sliding its hands across the console in front of it. "Scanning now."

"Good. Take out the highway, bring us closer to him," the evil doctor commands, swiping his fingers across the screens in front of him. Data, live video footage, as well as a live traffic report of the highway's routes all play at once; the data changes constantly as the airship scans Shadow, beginning to descend. Missiles on the underside of the wings rattle and fall into a primed position, each one's motor running as it prepares to launch. Far, far below, cars race past, going about their business, clueless to the camouflaged airship above.

"Sir, our scanners indicate that Shadow is having an anxiety attack," one of the machine-soldiers pipes up from its place at the scanners. "How should we approach?"

"It doesn't matter," the large man waves one elegantly gloved hand dismissively. "He won't remember anything. Are our missiles prepared to launch?"

"Yes, sir!" A different robot responds.

"Good, drop the camouflage and let 'em rip!" A cackle issues from beneath Robotnik's mustache. "Thank goodness Shadow took Sonic out of commission for us--now we won't have to worry about anything other than his brother!" He cracks his knuckles as his robots all frantically tap their screens, working rapidly to release each and every weapon possible. The key of this kidnapping was to distract the world with the destruction of the highway, such that Shadow's disappearance wouldn't disturb anyone. The smokescreen from all the explosions will serve to easily hide the troops as they take the black and red hedgehog into the airship. As destruction clouds the air, one measly hedgehog going missing won't exactly be front-cover news. A bulletproof plan, to say the least.

The rustling of air through the grasses catches Scourge's attention. Weird...What's causing that? Glancing to his left and his right, he feels his hackles rising. Something's not right here. A roar sounds from above, and he leaps back to peer around the highway, adopting a defensive stance, half-crouched. The sky seems to shimmer and melt in a large, blob-like shape; the emerald hedgehog blinks, baffled, as the blue of the sky warps and twists to reveal a jet-black airship with red trim. Headlights shine directly down on him, and he throws an arm in front of his face, squinting as his eyes adjust to see the huge warship hovering around the highway. His mouth falls open, but before he can react, dozens of missiles rocket from the underbelly of the plane, detonating the second they hit the highway. A massive BOOM erupts, chunks of concrete flying through the air, and the malachite hedgehog is flung backwards, tumbling head over heels, rocks and rubble pummeling him into unconsciousness.

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

Screams of terror and agony sound from the highway, smoke billowing from the flaming carcasses of mangled cars, stained with dark blood. The horror before me, though, is nothing compared to the sense of foreboding I feel in my chest. Something even more terrible is about to happen. Robotnik's ship lowers, engines rumbling concussively, lights beaming in my face. I lift a hand to shield my face, the tailwind threatening to topple me; digging my claws into the ground, my right hand supports me as my left hand covers my eyes slightly. Confused, terrified, I watch dumbly as a hatch opens on the airship. It hits the ground with a heavy thud, and row upon row of robots pour from it, heading right for me. From my perspective, all I can see are dark, blobby shapes, outlined by the pure white of the headlights behind them. They swarm towards me, and I kick out, scrambling backwards, crying out, "St-Stay away from me! Le-Leave me a-alone!" My voice is unsteady, wobbling with fear, as they overwhelm me. I can't breathe--my lungs won't push air out nor suck any in. My mind clouds and I scream helplessly. "Stop! Go away! What do you want from me!" I howl, thrashing to no avail. The metal beings ignore me, pushing and pulling me, separating out my limbs, wrenching them at odd angles. I can't fight back, I'm not strong enough, and my struggling comes to an end as something is stabbed into my neck, spreading numbness throughout my body. My vision goes black as I feel them carry my limp form into the ship. The last sound I hear is the clanking of the hatch sealing behind me, and it sounds like doom.

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

"We have him in our custody, sir," the robot reports, holding the screen at arm's length. Behind him, a small black and red lump rests on a bench in the dingy, small cell that the robot guards. "He is unconscious for now."

"Good, good--rendezvous at our Space Base and prepare him for our phase two." Robotnik replies shortly, his attention a bit divided. "Dismissed."

"Understood." The machine folds the screen back into its usual rod form, then places the rod in a groove on its arm. It turns around, silently relaying the information to the ship's pilot via a secured channel. All the robots on the ship are linked, each capable of speaking to the others without audio, in a manner akin to a texting function. Through a chain reaction, their orders flood through that system, until there is not a single robot left who doesn't know what to do. The ship has been in the air for an hour, and is beginning to approach the atmosphere, its engines bellowing massive streams of fire as it accelerates, triggering a sonic boom. The base isn't far now, and the robot opens the cage door, stepping inside the hedgehog's cell and picking him up with ease. For such a powerful creature, Shadow is quite light, even by hedgehog standards. His lack of food undoubtably is to blame for that, but a weakened Shadow is much easier to deal with than one at top strength. Closing the cell door behind it, the robot begins to trudge back down to the exit-hatch, the dark hedgehog slung over its shiny shoulder like a sack of potatoes. He is weak, frail, bruised and scratched from the shrapnel of the highway's detonation, but the worst has yet to come.