The elegant white bat alights atop the lighthouse gently. Fortunately, since it's around noontime, the light isn't on--that would've been a pain to deal with!--so she simply ducks in a shattered window, landing right before the staircase. Glancing about, she assesses the structural stability of it; so far, it seems alright, but there's heavy water damage here. The wood floors are partially rotted, and Rouge silently thanks evolution for her hollow bones. Treading carefully, she trots down the stairs, keeping her keen ears trained for sound. The top floor is the most damaged, pieces of the floor missing. Rouge sweeps her gaze side to side, looking for anything glimmering, but no luck. Huffing annoyedly, she continues to the next floor down; it's less damaged, and the floor is made of some sort of plaster rather than wood. She frowns down at it, puzzled. Weird, why is the flooring different? Looking about, she tries to pick up clues, but something shiny catches her eyes. Abandoning the floor, she flaps her wings, lightly lifting off the ground, and soaring over to the shimmering object. As she grows nearer, she realizes what it is, and a grin lights up her face. "Come to mama!" She cheers, grabbing the jewel. It's a large stone, oddly shaped, and a deep purple, reflecting light dazzlingly. Rouge purrs happily, inspecting it. "Well, you're a little rough around the edges, but that sparkle...Mesmerizing." Putting it away, she turns back around, expertly trained eyes surveying the rest of the floor. Across the room, she spots a trunk, sitting nestled in the curvature of the room. Her ears prick as she flits over to it, excited. "Well, helllooooooo, what do we have here?" Fiddling with the lock, the dexterous snow-colored bat deftly opens the chest, but to her dismay it's simply filled with old papers and such. Sighing, she sifts through them, hoping that perhaps at the bottom of the chest there lurks at least one precious gem, but it's no use; the chest is completely filled with papers. Picking one up, she scans it, but it's just nautical logs. Grumbling, she shuts the chest, stepping back with a growl.

To her surprise, the ground suddenly shakes slightly, and she freezes, hearing the sounds of commotion somewhere down below. Guess Shadow found the thieves, she says to herself, but something doesn't feel right. Cautiously, she walks back to the stairs, heels clacking at what seems to be a deafening volume to her ears. Carefully clopping down the spiral staircase, the ivory bat keeps her wings half-open, leg muscles tight with bound energy, prepared to spring away if necessary. The floor beneath her holds the jackpot she was looking for, with goods scattered everywhere, but she ignores them all. Something moves her to keep going downstairs, though with every step a sense of foreboding grows, weighing heavily on her shoulders. She shivers involuntarily, hair on end, brows furrowed in worry. The closer she gets to the third floor, the greater her fear grows, until her knees are shaking with its power. What an aura, she thinks, eyes wide; but where is it coming from? Hesitating at the edge of the fourth floor, verging onto the third floor, she bites her lip. All is silent below, but as she waits she hears a quiet thump. Her ears perk up, and she slowly creeps down the remaining stairs.

In the room below, she first sees the husks of what seems like three different robots, lying in decimated heaps. Her eyes widen in surprise--they don't look to be of Robotnik origin to her. There's too much going on; one seems like it was made entirely of blades, another of tiny platelets. Only the last one seems vaguely of his design, but as she squints at it she realizes the third heap is two robots on top of each other, one still fizzing sparks. Turning the corner of the staircase, she lets out a gasp. "Shadow?"

Her ebony and crimson partner is standing over an unconscious tan and brown creature, and he doesn't react upon hearing her call his name. Maybe he can't hear me. Leaping up and off the stairs, she soars down, flapping her wings gently. He stirs, one ear flicking, and glances over his right shoulder at her; her eyes widen as she sees blood dripping down his chin from a cut on his cheek, and the closer she gets the more small slashes she sees lacerating his body. The moment his eyes meet hers, she freezes, terror spearing through her. It's him! She realizes in horror. He's the one emitting the aura!

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

The second my eyes collide with Rouge's, I feel the haze lift from my mind, head clearing. My left eye, too, stops burning mysteriously, though I keep it closed. Fortunately from her angle, she can only see the right side of my face. The crimson fades from my sight, and the odd sensation of mirth dissipates. "Rouge," I say evenly, turning slightly. "Did you find anything?" Flashing her my signature smirk, I tip my head to one side, keeping my left side in shadows.

"N-Not really," she stutters, looking oddly frightened. "But I see you did."

"These are the thieves," I answer, gesturing at Lightpaws, "and this one's still alive." I think. "Just unconscious." I hope. "The other three are scrap metal." Curling my lip, I cross my arms and turn away, disgusted with myself, but pretending to be disgusted by them. I'm shaking slightly, though I try to hide it. Monster, I'm a monster, oh my God, how could I do this?! Lifeless husks, littering the ground, torn to bits, shredded by my own blood-slathered hands. Monster, monster, monster...

"We'll come back for her," Rouge answers nonchalantly, though she stands further away from me than usual. I know she's nervous. She feels something's wrong here, but I hope for my sake she doesn't figure out exactly what. "We need to go retrieve those jewels!" Grinning at me, she steps back; I can feel her fear beneath that faux cheer. Oh God... What have I done?

Clenching my teeth into what I hope is a similar expression, I smile in return, though I don't turn my head. "Of course," I answer awkwardly. "That is our mission, after all." She chuckles hollowly, turning away from me, and I'm struck by an odd feeling--like something's changed because of this. Like nothing will ever be the same. But maybe for the rest of today, I can keep it together...

"Well, what're you waiting for?" She calls over her shoulder, hopping up onto the stairs and turning back to me with a genuinely cheerful look. "C'mon slowpoke!"

"Er," I stutter, blinking my way back into reality, "yes, of course." Straightening up, I finally open my left eye; it burns for a moment, then stops, though a lingering sensitivity haunts me. Twisting to face her, I trot forward, carefully measuring my paces to keep an air of normalcy. "Relax, I'll be right there," I sigh as she taps her foot irritably.

"Could you walk any slower?!" She whines, crossing her arms. I let out a hmph and narrow my eyes, appearing in a flash beside her, a stair above her. She lets out a startled yip, stumbling, and I catch her before she can tumble backwards down the stairs; leaning forward, I grab her by the waist and nimbly whirl around, placing her on the step above me. She blinks down at me, stunned, and I feel flames flash across my cheeks as I realize just how close her face is to mine. Rapidly, I let go, pulling back shyly and hoping I don't look like I've gained a new stripe.

"Try not to die on our first mission," I sneer, feigning annoyance to mask my embarrassment. "Honestly, I thought you'd be a bit more agile than that."

"Hey!" She snarls, suddenly smacking me upside the head. I yelp in pain, feeling affronted; she barrels on, heedless to my reaction, "That was your fault--you startled me!"

"You told me to hurry up!" I snap back, bristling, "So I came to you as quickly as possible. Don't blame me if you're not able to keep your balance."

"Ugh, whatever!" She turns away, stomping up the stairs; I flinch nervously. Something about that sound sends fear jolting through me, but what? Shrugging it off, I follow her a bit gingerly, still not quite feeling like myself. "Just get up here and help me with these jewels!" She barks down from the floor above, and I cringe. I've just suddenly realized I don't like people shouting at me...

"I'm coming..." I answer, ascending the partially rotted spiral staircase.

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

Hours later, we sit uncomfortably in an office; my arms are crossed, one foot balanced on my opposite thigh, and my chin resting in my light chest fluff. My eyes are lidded, almost closed--I couldn't be more bored. Rouge is filing paperwork, seated at her desk, and I sit in the chair next to it, usually reserved for guests. I had been leaning on the table earlier, balancing my chin on my wrist, but she fussed at me for wrinkling the papers with my elbow, so I had to remove it. She's still annoyed at me for spooking her earlier, and frankly I'm annoyed at her for being annoyed, so we're not getting along well. It doesn't help that she has a habit of tapping her fingers on the desk arrhythmically--she can't seem to stay focused enough to keep one tempo, so she just switches between several different ones whenever she loses track of whichever one she was on, which couldn't be more irritating.

Letting out a deep sigh, she slumps a bit, drawing my attention; my ears prick, and I open my eyes fully, glancing over at her. She refuses to let me help--since I have no idea how to write G.U.N. reports, she's convinced I'll botch it--but it looks like there's some intense ennui in the air. "Uuuuughhh," she whines, forehead on the desk. "Dammit, I can't think of the right way to explain this..."

"Hmm?" I prompt, leaning back a bit, trying to peer at the paper from across the desk.

"It's the report for a mission I undertook with Omega," she flaps a hand at me dismissively as she sits up, and I bristle, feeling useless, "so you'd be no help. You weren't there."

"'Harrumph,'" I snort, "Fine." Turning away, I lift my snout to the air, curling my lip. Maybe I didn't wanna help, anyways! Lowering my head again, I scowl at the wall. If you don't want me around, why don't you just say it? Feeling despondent, I sigh quietly myself, flicking an ear. Our first mission, and I have to go and scare her like that... Maybe that's all I'm good for, anyways. Striking fear into people, like a villain.

She pauses, biting her lip, and her posture wilts a little bit. "Sorry," she groans, rubbing her forehead, "I know you mean well, Shadow, but you can't really do anything here." Smiling softly, Rouge re-folds her wings; she's still wearing her usual work attire, but she's layered a rather plain-looking black jacket bearing the G.U.N. logo on its shoulders. She has it half-on, the sleeves only coming up to her elbows, the collar of it only rising to the middle of her back, beneath her wings. She obviously wouldn't wear a jacket like this one properly--it could crush her delicate wings. So she wears it oddly, for much the same reason that I don't often wear hats, since my spines get in the way. "Why don't you go back to the apartment and wait for me there?" She tilts her head to one side, ears pricked, looking a bit hopeful. My heart sinks a bit. I was right--she doesn't want me around.

"Of course," I answer, swallowing down my wounded feelings. I stand up stiffly, turning away from her, tossing over my shoulder, "if that'll help you, I'll go."

"Yes, it would help," she answers gratefully, rubbing her temples, and I bite back a whine. Damn, I was hoping she'd change her mind...but I don't suppose that makes any sense. Trotting away, I lower my head, crossing my arms irritably. That sort of situation only happens in fiction, rather than reality, I guess. As I step out of the office, a sudden wave of dizziness hits me, and I stumble slightly, my feet tripping over themselves. Squeezing my eyes shut, I growl softly, pressing a palm to my forehead and gripping the doorframe with my free hand, claws out; in a flash, images begin to blaze behind my shut eyelids, and I gasp. In them, I see Rouge, walking cheerfully about the office; she turns a corner, beginning to go down a flight of stairs, but halfway down a heel on her shoe breaks, sending her pitching forward. I gasp again, my eyes flying open to see a perfect view of my feet and the cheaply carpeted floor beneath me. "Shadow?" I hear Rouge call from behind me, "Are you okay?" I straighten up, panting softly; an awkward silence ensues as I struggle to piece together what I've just seen. "...Shadow?" Alarm enters her voice, and I hear her chair scoot a bit as she stands.

I twist, locking eyes with her over my shoulder. "Don't take the stairs," I answer, my voice steadier than my legs. "And you might want to get those shoes checked out." With that, I turn, my claws scraping on the wood doorframe as my hand drags down it; I push off, straightening up as I start to walk down the hall.

"Huh?" She blinks a couple times, puzzled. "What do you mean?" She calls, but she receives no response; I've already walked far enough down the hall that shouting back would be an embarrassingly juvenile act. In any case, I don't know how to describe to her what happened mere seconds ago... I just hope she takes my words to heart. Stepping into an elevator, I press the button for the ground floor, nestling myself into the corner. I don't like these things--such enclosed spaces, rocketing up and down buildings... What if it falls? What then? I shudder. I don't want to fall. A quiet and polite dinging noise alerts me to the elevator's halt just before it happens; it's at the third floor, and it appears someone else wants to get on. I flatten myself further to the corner, glowering into the wall beside me. The doors slide open smoothly, and I see a rather familiar human waiting.

"Agent Shadow," Agent Fox growls politely; I nod, watching him out of the corner of my eyes. His voice is friendly enough, but his overall demeanor speaks of aggression; he presses the button for the second floor, and moves back to stand uncomfortably close to me. I bristle slightly as he leans, deliberately looming over me. Oh, great... The tall human shifts position, turning to look down on me. "I have a question for you." His voice drops to a dark snarl.

"And I may have an answer for you," I reply evenly, sliding my crimson gaze over to him. "But it depends on what your question is."

"Do you remember Sara?" He hisses. I turn, blinking in confusion. His face disfigures into a viciously hateful expression, and my eyes widen involuntarily; behind his hatred is a deep sadness of loss that I recognize all too well. "You killed her. March 17th, four years ago." I stifle a gasp, startled by this sudden declaration. What?! Agent Fox straightens up, as the elevator slows with another polite ding, looking away from me. "And someday, mister Shadow," he smirks coldly, "I will make you pay for what you've done." The doors slide open, and he steps out, face neutral once more.

I lower my chin, pressing it to my chest; dark sadness clouds my mind. Before I even knew this man, I had touched his life... How many more people have I left broken and despairing? "I'm certain it'll be nothing less than I deserve," I answer softly, giving him pause for a moment; however, he neglects to respond, merely walking away and leaving me alone in the slightly chilly elevator. I shiver as the doors close, goosebumps running up and down my arms. How disturbing... I grimace, trying to force my fur flat again. I certainly hope he won't make an attempt on my life. That would cost him his job at least. Sighing, I close my eyes as the elevator resumes its downward motion; as it approaches the ground floor, I wonder as to how many people have been left behind. So many lives I've ended, and for each one there are so many more people left with an empty space in their lives. With a pang, I recall how painful it was to lose Heather. And to think, I inflicted that pain on so many people... My headcount just keeps growing and growing, doesn't it? Bitterly, I grit my teeth, furrowing my brows. The more I think about my life, the more I hate it and myself. It's not fair that I'm alive and being given a chance to redeem myself when so many people have fallen at my feet. But I suppose life isn't fair. An odd surge of positivity flutters in my chest. While I can't change the pain I have brought into this world, I can always change my course and aim to alleviate others' agony. Opening my eyes, I push off from the wall as the elevator pings again, the doors easing open smoothly. I will use this chance, this job, to make a change--a positive impact. But I won't do it Sonic's way and I won't do it G.U.N.'s way; I only work for myself, and I will accomplish the goals set for me my way. A genuine smile slips across my face as I step out into the main lobby, and I have to restrain myself from letting it grow. I am my own person now, free from Robotnik, free from his captivity and cruelty, and I'm not alone anymore.