PROLOGUE
The radio fell silent.
“Status?”
A group of three burly Nemesis had been listening to the GUN pilot deliver his traitorous report. It was the fourth, who had stepped forward part-way through, being addressed. He had come from outside and looked every inch as identical as his comrades: the leather gear covering a gigantic frame, chains and studs holding the unsightly ensemble together over muscles only visible to the imagination. Neon, like war paint, streaked across an emotionless mask. Metal boots thundered each footstep.
“Our guide has located a stable entrance to the sewer outlet pipe,” a harsh voice, muffled and distorted, explained. “He believes it will provide us a route to the nearby town. It appears long abandoned.”
“Are you satisfied with our guide’s determination?”
Mask nodded slowly. “I am.”
Another of the Nemesis made a careful interruption. “With due respect, I do not believe he is to be trusted.” There was a tense silence as attention fixed on the doubter, who quickly began to explain himself. “He is not one of us. He does not share our goal. Are we not lying to him ourselves? Are we not using him?”
“You fear he may be doing the same to us,” came the conclusion from another.
“Yes. I do.”
“Now is not the time for dissent.” It was the largest of the Nemesis, attempting to restore balance to the impromptu meeting. All other masks turned to him. “Our location has been compromised. GUN forces have already arrived, and are at the perimeter of the Circus Park debris field. They are minutes away from discovering us. Priority is escape. GUN are using satellites above and the sewer system is our only viable option.” He raised his voice to drive home his argument. “We have to leave. Now.”
There was total accord. Even the doubter gave his comrade a respectful gesture. As a group of four, they walked outside into the ever-brightening orange haze. Around them lay the tatters of Circus Park’s main grandstand. The one remaining spire stretched high over their hurried evacuation. Watching them. Judging them.
Sheltered from the prying eyes of orbital satellites, vehicles of all shapes and sizes had been forsaken by events. The original intent would have seen them emerge from beneath the wreckage like a pirate fleet, ready to hunt down their bounty. Now, thanks to GUN, they had become too visible a method of transportation and therefore a liability. But plans changed. No doubt a lucky garbage collector would find them one day and retire.
The group of Nemesis watched as the final humvee was slotted away. A driver emerged from within and paused, turning back to the beastly vehicle. An idea. Leather-bound arms wrapped themselves around the mounted chaingun on the back and, with superhuman strength, ripped it clean off.
The doubter had one last question. “What of our guide, then?”
“He will lead us to our objective as he agreed,” his larger brother-in-arms replied, “and we will maintain our peaceful charade with him. But just as with all our assets, he is ultimately expendable. He will die.”
Not a hint of remorse from anybody. Just a calm observation from one.
“As will many, I expect.”
ACT ONE
The biggest challenge facing Captain Stone was one of noise.
He had been moving through the wreckage of Circus Park for thirty minutes, yet had made little real progress. Each footstep demanded careful calculation. Put a combat boot down in the wrong place and the GUN second-in-command would dislodge a tilting beam, or upturn the broken shell of an Egg Pawn. There was no telling where the enemy could be. Finding out by having them emerge from the shadows and open fire was not desired.
Stone had studied multiple snapshots of the Nemesis and knew what to expect. The masks, original black surface covered in garish paint, empty black lenses covering whatever their eyes looked like. The leather, mutilated into some makeshift armoured uniform... not like his sleek stealth armour, all one regulation colour.
Unfortunately, in such an environment, that made him the target.
A cold blue stare scanned every corner with precision hard-matched by a computer. The extent of the devastation was impressive. Stone wallowed in it. His had been the idea to bring Circus Park crashing down to the lake’s shore. Pride expanded his chest. There was a distinct difference between simply achieving an objective and truly completing a mission, at least in his mind. He flashed back to the battle. Engage the forces of Dr. Eggman, wrestle control of the area, push back against the tyranny of the mad scientist. Little detail had been given, so Stone had elaborated himself.
Demolish the park.
Demolish anything that stood in the way.
For that defined Captain Stone. That was his mantra with regard to any situation. Whether working under orders or carving his own route through his career, he was relentless. Arrogant people would call it nobility. A trait to boast about.
The problem with Stone was self-awareness. He was supremely arrogant, certainly, but he never confused his demeanour with nobility. He did not fail to recognise his foul character. On the contrary, his inner monologue reflected on his priggish behaviour openly and without shame. He understood himself perfectly. As far as he was concerned, the ends justified the means, and be damned whatever or whomever got hurt.
Ultimately, he cared not what he became... so long as whatever it was had power.
On that note, with his sidearm drawn and held out before him, he thought back to Shadow the Hedgehog. It was jealousy, pure and simple. A being of raw, unbridled power. A decider. Given a free pass to the ranks of GUN by the Commander. And within seconds of being given that pass, assigned a vital Code Black field operation? Stone wrinkled his nose. Sure, he was blatantly bullying Shadow. He was using rank to make the hedgehog suffer. And in his self-awareness, he knew it.
Stone wanted nothing more than to be considered the Ultimate Lifeform.
Scoring points against the genuine article was just too tempting.
Behind him, a noise. Metal on metal. It jolted him out of his thoughts, wheeling his pistol on autopilot and kicking trained reflexes into gear. Eyes narrowed. Heart pounded, expecting a Nemesis to come bursting out at him.
A rusty bolt rolled into the golden morning sunlight.
It was nothing.
Stone relaxed and returned to stalking the debris. His self-awareness laughed at him for jumping, from somewhere within his subconscious.
It serves you right, you bastard.
“They are drawing closer.”
“We must complete the evacuation. Are all the vehicles secured?”
“Yes.”
“Scans show the abandoned town to contain several methods of transportation. It appears to be an extension of the Circus Park facility. There is a construction yard there, which bears the markings of the Eggman Empire. It should provide us with enough to start our journey, at the very least.”
“We can move. What of the excavation tools?”
“The second group has them. They are entering the sewer outlet now.”
“And the maps we stole from GUN?”
“Distributed.”
“Good. Recall our guide. I want him kept close by.”
Thirty minutes... half an hour, alone. Again.
Shadow the Hedgehog was finding the limits of his patience. Such self-discovery was his only reward for following orders and, once again, he doubted his allegiance with GUN. There had been strong approval from the Commander, instant support from Rouge the Bat... and then sudden and vehement disagreement from Captain Stone. For no apparent reason. It was both confusing and frustrating for Shadow. He had earned the apparent loathing of the GUN second-in-command and, as a result, was sitting in the passenger seat of a cabriolet in the middle of a ruined circus.
Alone. Again. For half an hour.
It was some small comfort that Shadow trusted his instincts. They were giving him a clear and constant warning about Stone. From the moment he had met the human, in holographic form, an uneasy tension had electrified the atmosphere. Whether it was all the fault of Stone and his random hatred or, to be fair, Shadow’s newfound discomfort with authority... that remained to be seen. All he knew was that something was not right.
The Commander had briefed them en route to Circus Park.
“The Nemesis have a mole inside GUN,” he had said, “hence the Code Black. They used the theft of the Chaos Emerald as a distraction while they hacked into our mainframe. They stole highly-classified information about the Black Arms and obviously have a much larger endgame than we first feared.”
Shadow questioned the logic of speaking so openly in front of Stone who, of course, had reacted with shock from behind the wheel. But again, watching the short performance, the hedgehog felt perturbed. There was something false about the whole thing. The gasp, the reply, the raised eyebrows... it had all been too perfect. Too rehearsed. Only the unfortunate fact that his judgement had been proven wrong in the past stopped Shadow from accusing Stone there and then.
And now, told to stay behind while Stone went to find the Nemesis. They could be meeting in secret this very moment. They could be discussing anything. Sharing secrets. Betraying GUN and plotting against the government.
Endangering his promise to protect humanity.
Movement.
Head snapped upwards and looked into the wreckage. At first, they were merely shadows in the early morning light, long shapes dancing across the twisted metal. And then they gave themselves away by passing a small gap in the debris. Parallel to the car, oblivious to observation. The first was a Nemesis, instantly identifiable as a lumbering slab of muscle. Shadow flexed his gloves on the dashboard at the recognition. He had met them before. Fought them. Killed them.
The second figure, however, was vastly different. He was a little over three feet tall, just like Shadow. He was wearing red and white sneakers... just like Shadow. And he had black fur, with a...
They disappeared from view.
“Damn it,” the hedgehog snarled aloud. “I can’t let them get away!”
So he slid over into the driving seat of the cabriolet.
And started the engine.
ACT TWO
The Bullpen speakers almost overloaded with the yell. “What?!”
Grizzled features winced at the outburst. “I said he’s taken the car,” the Commander repeated loudly into his headset. Around the workstations and plasma screens, glances of sympathy came from those who had toiled under Captain Stone before. They all went ignored as their superior continued.
“Looks like he’s chasing someone, or something, but he isn’t answering my calls. Satellite can’t get a fix, there’s too much junk around to see through.” There was a pause. “And why in sane hell did you leave him behind, anyway?”
“Which way, sir?”
“You didn’t answer my question, Stone!”
“Sorry, sir, there’s no time! Which way did he go?”
The Commander punched at a nearby console, summoning a map to the largest screen and bathing in the glow. “North-west,” he barked. “Ground Zero.”
“The big top arena?”
“Affirmative, but you’ll never catch him on foot from your position.”
Stone grunted over the comm. “I have to try, sir!”
“Why?”
“Because he’s dangerous! Because this is exactly what I warned you about! You wanted us to bring back a Nemesis to interrogate, and yet look at what he did to an entire train filled with them!”
“Shadow will not compromise the mission objective!”
“I hope you’re right, sir. I’ll get back to you.” The channel closed.
As annoying as it was to admit, Stone had a point. Not about the chance of Shadow killing more Nemesis, no... the Commander trusted Shadow with the mission. But he was the most unpredictable of hedgehogs. On his first assignment, in which success was so crucial, he was doing himself no favours with a random sojourn.
The Commander sighed.
“Whatever you’re up to, Agent Shadow... I hope it works...”
Such an outcome was still undecided.
A large sheet of yellow steel was collapsing to the left. Shadow yanked at the steering wheel, saving the gorgeously expensive cabriolet from being crushed by a matter of inches. Tyres squealed. Shrapnel bounced off the silver bodywork as lethal rain. He was ducking and weaving his head, trying to avoid being hit himself. Firmly planted in the driver’s seat, he had become as much a part of the vehicle as anything else.
Up ahead was the Nemesis. His target... sprinting through the wreckage of Circus Park at inhuman speeds. It boggled the mind. A chase between a car and a person on foot... and the person on foot was winning.
Not what he had expected of them.
Not at all.
They had split. Shadow had ignored a quiet approach. Instead, he had driven through a wall and aimed straight at them. Sleek headlights and radiator grille had deformed into a sneering face. A turbocharged engine made it howl a frightening warcry. Turning, their panic had lasted seconds... and then they had split. The shorter of the two, undoubtedly the slower, had tried to keep pace and failed. As the Nemesis shot off into the ruins, the three-foot being had ducked to one side and let Shadow blitzkrieg by. He was merely a dark blur to the hedgehog. A mystery to solve later, after the mission was complete.
The Nemesis was the objective, after all.
Catch him. Interrogate him. Get an identity that way.
Now the deadly pursuit was fully underway. Far from the hulking giant Shadow had judged all Nemesis to be, this one was topping out at almost fifty miles per hour. Leather-clad legs were pumping with industrial speed. Obstacles in the dilapidated amusements were overcome in leaps and bounds. Unlike the cabriolet, which had no choice but to smash into them and hope to emerge on the other side.
Shadow stomped down on the gas pedal, as though trying to force it through the floor. The car bucked and surged forth.
Again, the Nemesis matched the velocity.
How could something so large and unruly move so fast?
No time to think. A fist shot out and slammed into a large neon sign. Rusted iron groaned and buckled. Shadow braced himself against the wheel. Suddenly the grinning effigy of a clown was filling the windscreen. Sparks flew as it toppled. Electricity cables snapped free, whipping at the rapidly-approaching cabriolet.
Shadow jerked the handbrake, steered and accelerated all at once.
The resulting powerslide cleared the hazard... just.
As the clown exploded and began to consume itself in flame, the hedgehog found a trail to pick up the chase. Large footprints were imprinted on a variety of surfaces. The metal boots, of course. He could still hear them thudding in the distance.
“Just what exactly are you...?”
There were stairs. Part of Circus Park that was never designed for cars. Shadow bounced down them without hesitation, just as he had driven through that wall earlier. What once was a lustrous contour to the cabriolet was now dented, damaged and scuffed.
The windscreen, hit by one of the clown’s electricity cables, was broken. A spider web of cracks confused Shadow’s vision. Reaching under the passenger seat with some difficulty, he found the handgun Captain Stone had told him about and fired. Two bullets shattered what glass remained, clearing the forward view.
No nonsense. It was just a car... just a thing. A tool to be used. A weapon. Shadow tossed the gun aside with the same disregard. No pause to reflect on how others had used him in the same way.
Up ahead, vaulting over a large star-covered barrel.
It was the Nemesis.
Gears were shifted with a low clunk. Rear wheels screamed.
Time to end the pursuit.
By the time Captain Stone caught up with his fellow GUN agent, the sweet morning air had been deafened by an almighty crash. It helped the human track the hedgehog down. Rounding a corner, his blood boiled.
The semi-destroyed cabriolet was crudely implanted in the side of a large ticket booth. On the floor beside it, the motionless body of a Nemesis.
And in the driving seat, Shadow the Hedgehog. Alive and well.
“Oh my God,” Stone whispered. He holstered his weapon and dashed over to the Nemesis, checking the overgrown biker for signs of life.
“He’s still alive,” Shadow told him matter-of-factly.
Stone glared back with venom. “What the hell do you think you’re playing at?”
The answer was simple.
“You ordered me to stay in the car.”
ACT THREE
Only a small group of them were left. They were hunched over together at the sewer outlet pipe, surveying the remains of Circus Park they left behind. Time, resources, effort... all had been invested in establishing it as a launch pad for their ambitions. And now here they stood, ready to abandon it. The risks were unspeakable. They were now on the run, planning as they went, with no discernable base of operations.
The orange sun watched them leave. They would begrudge it, hiding in the sewer system away from its light. In the underworld, in the dark, where they belonged. Where they thrived and festered.
“We are short by one,” said a Nemesis to his comrades.
Masks subdued their deep, sinister voices. “It would seem he was captured by GUN,” said another. They all gave no reaction to the mention of their enemy. “Our guide barely escaped with his own life. We should remain.”
“To what end?”
“What if GUN manage to extract information from him?”
Agreement came from some. “We should remain, and terminate him.”
“No,” another mask interrupted quickly. “The risks are too high. An encounter with GUN in our present condition would only result in more of our number being imprisoned. We are already suffering a significant delay.” There was a pause. Silent understanding came from his fellow Nemesis as he concluded. “Let GUN interrogate our comrade. It will distract them while we make good our escape.”
The group began climbing into the outlet pipe. Along the dank tubes and tunnels of the sewer system, faint echoes of movement led towards their destination. It was a low stoop to fit. Brawny shoulders scraped against concrete.
Two stayed behind to seal the pipe. When finished, they melted into the gloom.
And that left only one Nemesis in Circus Park...
...at the mercy of Captain Stone.
They had moved inside the vestiges of a small room. The semi-conscious captive had been hoisted into a chair and tied with discarded cable. Masked head rolled from side to side, balance eluding it. Standing over his prisoner, Stone did his best to hide agony. While the Nemesis certainly looked hefty, the actual weight had been akin to tonnage. His pride had refused asking for help. Better to risk a physical injury than openly invite a mental one.
Shadow rested against the background with arms folded. He wore hostility like a handmade suit, watching the Nemesis with unblinking eyes. Foreboding presence was to be his role in the interrogation. It had taken some heated persuasion for Stone to agree to even that much involvement.
Definite signs of awareness came from behind the mask. It darted from person to person while wrists struggled against the cable.
“You’re alive, then,” the human GUN officer began.
The struggling stopped.
Stone drew level with the mask. “Lucky, too. See my colleague over there?” Both captor and captive glanced at the motionless hedgehog. “He’s the one who destroyed your train and killed several of your kind. Imagine that... a Nemesis killer. Right here in front of you. How does that make you feel?”
Shadow returned their cold stares and kept silent. So did the Nemesis.
“No remorse?” Stone was prodding. “No anger?”
Again, silence. Just the mask.
“Okay. I’m going to ask you some questions now, and I’d think very carefully before you answer them.” Stone rose to his full height and flexed his stealth armour. “Co-operate, and perhaps we can work something out.”
Nothing. No reaction.
“Why did you hack the GUN mainframe? Why steal intel on the Black Arms?”
Nothing.
“Who is your mole inside GUN? Who helped you?”
No answer.
“Who were you working with here, earlier? Dark fur, around three feet tall?”
Nothing.
And still the tinted lenses were fixed on Shadow. Ignoring Stone entirely. Mocking his line of questioning. In a rupture of fury, Stone raised his fist and prepared to strike the Nemesis across his masked face. A sharp inhale... and then a pause. He looked over his shoulder. Saw the continued connection with Shadow. Frowned at it. Then, reluctantly, he lowered his arm before it could attack and turned away.
“See what you can do,” it pained him to ask. “I’m going to report in.”
The armoured officer walked outside, back into the orange light, fiddling with his comm system. For a long moment, there was perfect stillness in the room. Arms still folded on Shadow. Wrists still tied on the Nemesis.
Just the stare.
“Whatever happens,” Shadow finally growled, “your fate is sealed.”
“As is yours,” came the ominous reply.
“Stone, this is GUN Command. Go ahead, what’s your status?”
“We have a Nemesis in custody,” the captain reported into the comm system that was still wrapped around his neck. There was no congratulation from the Commander. There never would be. Not until the entire mission was completed, and even then it was a rarity. “Initial interrogation has proven unsuccessful,” Stone continued. “However, he seems fixated with Shadow. For whatever reason remains unclear.”
Surprise grunted through the static. “Odd... although they might just be scared of him, given what he did to their armoured train. Keep at it. Take things up a notch if being nice is getting you nowhere.”
“Acknowledged, sir.” Then a telling halt.
“What is it, Stone?”
Blue eyes narrowed. A deep breath was taken. “Sir, there aren’t any other Nemesis here. At all. We’ve got the only one. Irrespective of this other figure Shadow supposedly saw during that reckless car stunt of his... well, this was definitely their base. I found abandoned vehicles and weapons nearby. Signs of an evacuation.”
The comm crackled with a heavy sigh. “They knew we were coming.”
“It would appear so.”
“Damn it... but we were so careful!”
Stone shifted his weight and began to search for blame. “Sir, has anybody left the Bullpen since the Code Black was initiated?”
“No, nobody... except...”
“Except who?”
The Commander seemed reluctant to answer. “Agent Rouge.”
Stone immediately jumped on the name. “Oh, you mean the professional thief we pay with seized jewellery?”
“Don’t you dare, Stone!” The defence was loud and defiant.
“But sir, it does seem somewhat...”
“Somewhat nothing! You have no evidence!” The climax in tone gradually started to retreat. The reminder had been issued. Rank reflected in the volume of his voice. “You’re already waging a vitriolic campaign against one of our agents. I recommend you stop before it becomes a bad habit.”
“Yes, sir.” It was hissed through gritted teeth.
Nevertheless, Stone had managed to sow some very potent seeds of doubt in his superior’s mind. Before they could take root, the conversation was ended on a sharp note of authority and order.
“Get back in with the Nemesis. Get me the name of the actual mole.”
EPILOGUE
No more had been said between Shadow and the Nemesis.
There was no elaboration on the threat to the hedgehog’s life. No answer to the long-fading memories of Captain Stone’s questions. Just the stare. Cold and hard. The thick atmosphere was almost suffocating, seemingly begging for a spark to ignite the tension. Shadow felt his heart beating. Thanks to the silence, he could hear it, too.
Curiosity eventually conducted him towards the seated mass of muscles. With each step, the smell of industry grew stronger. Grease and oil. Toxic neon paint. Metal and leather, all combining to overpower the senses.
Rocket-powered sneakers crunched to a halt, inches from the chair.
“Last chance.”
The Nemesis held his tongue.
Shadow reached out towards the mask. His white gloves were almost brushing against the black surface of a cheek when, suddenly, it jerked away. Fear. At last, a reaction... and it was fear. Undoubtedly. Shadow had seen enough of it before to recognise it. The stare was still locked into place, but it now lacked meaning. He had found a sensitive nerve. He had found fear. Slowly, he pulled his fingers back.
Teasing.
Threatening.
“I said,” he repeated darkly, “last chance.”
It was not taken.
Shadow lunged forward. There was another recoil. His other hand went behind the head, holding it steady. The Nemesis resisted, but to no avail. With one brutal tug, the mask came off. His face was exposed.
Behind them, Captain Stone walked in and gasped. “What the...?!”
The protest was supposed to be levelled at the hedgehog, but the sight that greeted him was enough to redirect it. The enemy unmasked. He stepped forward and joined Shadow in open-mouthed amazement. And yet, the more they thought about it, the more it made sense: the ability to outrun a sports car, the stench of industry... pieces of a mental jigsaw puzzle falling neatly into place.
No facial features graced the Nemesis.
Only mechanical circuitry.
“Son of a bitch,” Stone whispered. “They’re robots!”
Written by Glenn Scully
