PROLOGUE
Mighty the Armadillo.
There was a time when such a name was synonymous with heroism. Part of a group famous for their struggle against tyranny. Celebrated for defending the defenceless. Standing against the nefarious schemes of a certain mad scientist.
Now that reputation was in tatters. Now the name was aligned with the Nemesis, a group of robotic terrorists responsible for many a crime against society. Violence. Unrest. The theft of a Chaos Emerald and hijack of an armoured train. An assassination attempt on the President of the United Federation. The infiltration of the Guardian Units of Nations. It was a list that only threatened to lengthen.
A list that Mighty knew nothing about. He was unaware. Oblivious.
Naïve.
The makeshift convoy of trucks and jeeps had stopped driving through the Lost Jungle and formed a small circular encampment. Perfect, unbroken canopy coverage made the location fit for purpose. Little was unpacked: only a few crates of equipment and a portable generator from which the Nemesis usually recharged their power cells. Today, it was connected to a digital recorder and transmission device. Three hulking frames of leather and metal set about testing it while Mighty, their guide, looked on.
“The enemy draws near.” It was another Nemesis standing beside him. “This is a risk.”
“What’s new?” the armadillo noted with a sideways grin. “Of course it’s a risk, but we have no other choice, do we? Not if we want to escape with our lives. GUN are notorious. You and I both know that.”
“We could alter our heading. Escape from here and survive.”
Mighty folded his arms. “Oh no,” he objected. “Not while they’re still carving up the place and damaging the eco-system. We have to make them stop. Look, I know you’re not a big fan of this environment, my platinum-plated pal... but remember, we’re in this together. You help me and I’ll help you in kind.”
The Nemesis stared coldly into the trees. “It’s a jungle.”
“The wicked wild,” Mighty replied with blatant enthusiasm and another grin. “And as long as it’s at risk, I’m going to do everything I can to protect it. Lucky for you, there’s a win-win solution.”
One of the parked trucks slammed open at the rear. From inside came the sounds of a token struggle. No real danger. More a bruised attitude than anything. Then, metal boots clanging, a pair of Nemesis dragged their prisoner out into the open. He was resisting with as much effort as his body would allow. It was barely enough to break stride. Weakened. Wounded. Drained of energy. Wrists tied behind his back.
Resigned to his fate.
Shadow the Hedgehog was dumped in front of the transmission device.
A thing to be used.
ACT ONE
She raced back to the Night Hawk as fast as her wings would allow. The disorienting effects of the stun grenade had barely worn off when she started. As a result, her slender body was tarnished with various scuffs and scrapes, gained when hitting the rainforest too hard. Despite her prissy demeanour, she failed to care. Most of her flawless white fur had been matted by mud anyway, so what was a little more damage?
There were more important things than outward appearance.
Like saving Shadow.
Firmly implanted in the cockpit of the grounded tilt-rotor aircraft, the fresh-faced pilot saw her coming. Then he also saw that she was alone. His heart pounded, wondering whether a battle with the Nemesis had revealed his treachery.
Slowly, he placed a gloved hand on his sidearm and waited for her first words. They would decide his actions.
“Get on the radio,” Rouge the Bat shrieked as she came aboard. “They’ve taken him!”
“Who?” Hand relaxed. Slightly.
“Who’d you think?! It was an ambush! Get Stone, now!”
The pilot nodded and complied. Rouge would not be so brazen in her eagerness to expose him if she did indeed know the truth. His sidearm went forgotten, remaining in its holster as he worked the radio frequencies. After a moment, he was free to sit back and listen in to the interesting new development.
“FX-474, this is Stone. Go ahead.”
“Captain, this is Agent Rouge. They surprised us... the Nemesis, it had to be. Stun grenade came from nowhere and when I got up, he was gone. They must have targeted him, I was left untouched.”
“Whoa, slow down, Rouge... I assume you’re talking about Shadow?”
“Yes,” she was still panting heavily. Unbecoming for a lady. Not that many considered her a lady anyway, especially Stone. “He and I detoured from the battalion to investigate... er, to investigate some shorter trees. I know, I know, sounds stupid, but Shadow was right on the money. It was an impact crater and there were signs of recent digging. I think we found what the Nemesis were in the Lost Jungle for.”
There was an expectant pause. “Well, what was it?” Stone finally asked.
“A fragment of the Black Comet. At least, that was our guess.”
“Actually, that’s a pretty good guess,” reluctant accord came from the speakers. “The hack into the GUN mainframe stole information from the Black Arms files, remember? Full of intel we collected on them during the invasion. It matches up. At least we know what the Nemesis are after... but why?”
Rouge tapped her pink-toed heels against the cockpit floor. Dry mud flaked away with each impact. “Can we save musing about diabolical schemes for later? They’ve got Shadow! We need to find him and rescue him!”
“Focus on the mission, Rouge. I doubt he’s even worried about you, okay?”
“Where’s Rouge?”
Mighty glanced over at the question from the captive hedgehog. “Speaking again, eh?”
“What did you do to her?”
“Nothing, if you’ll believe me,” the armadillo replied with honesty. Psychological tactics were not his style. They were too cruel. “My plan only requires one hostage, and you’re about as high profile as they come. I’ve nothing against your lady friend so I ordered her left alone.”
“How kind of you,” Shadow sneered.
Mighty sighed as he approached. Around them, the Nemesis worked to establish their little scene. Survival hinged on the success of their forthcoming transmission. Everything had to be perfectly calculated and their mechanical minds were devoted to the task. It allowed the two organic beings a chance to talk unobserved. With his sharp nose pointing squarely at Shadow, Mighty showed sympathy.
“You want the truth? I am kind. I am compassionate. At least, I like to think so... and I hate having to do this to you, I really do.”
“Did you have these same regrets when you shot me in the arm?”
Genuine sadness welled up in Mighty as he looked to the blood seeping from Shadow’s left limb. The bullet grazing was fresh. No sign of healing yet. To the amazement of the prisoner, a bandage was produced.
“I didn’t shoot you,” Mighty said as he gently applied it. “You did this to yourself.”
“What...?”
“Look around. Tell me if you see any guns.”
Shadow did so. His red eyes darted around the encampment, burning with determination to prove the insanity of his captor’s assumption. Self-harm. Nonsense. The flash from the stun grenade had forced him to fire blind, but not that blind. Only after his third visual sweep did he frown.
There were no guns. Not a single Nemesis was armed.
Not even an empty holster.
“I told you,” Mighty explained as he finished tying the bandage. “I loathe violence. I would not ally myself as guide to these robots if they used weapons. None of us could have shot you and the only gun present was yours.”
It was like having a conversation with an alternate dimension. Did this armadillo believe in the garbage he was spouting?
“You called me the Ultimate Lifeform,” Shadow pressed. “You know who I am.”
“That’s correct.”
“Do you really think I would shoot myself for no reason?”
“Oh, you had a reason,” Mighty again jumped to a bizarre conclusion. “After all, you are an agent of the military. I understand what such a career entails all too well. The indoctrination, the obsession with propaganda... it’s upsetting to see it embodied in such a noble figure.” The delusion was almost hypnotic to observe. Shadow was tempted to empathise with such levels of misguided mistake. He had been a victim of manipulation himself in his recent past. Yet he was tied to a chair and devoid of his power, so no such empathy was forthcoming. “You shot yourself,” Mighty asserted, “to perpetuate a myth.”
“Myth...?”
“Yes, this myth of the so-called ‘Nemesis’ that the media have created. Typical reactionary response to a group that none understand. Fear of the unknown. Suddenly everything is their fault. Pin the blame on them.”
Mud-covered spikes shook in opposition. “You think a myth shot the President?”
Mighty’s voice stalled in disbelief.
“Your allies put him in hospital,” Shadow continued. “I saw it happen. And if you think I’m a puppet of GUN, then you don’t know who I am, after all.”
Their conversation had clearly been monitored because, at that moment, a Nemesis walked over to join his guide. Mighty was torn from gazing into middle-distance. His prisoner was GUN. Military. Not to be trusted. But that same prisoner was also Shadow the Hedgehog. Ultimate Lifeform. Saviour of the world, twice over. As a result of such a potent concoction, doubt seeded in his mind.
The Nemesis moved to quash it. “We are ready to transmit.”
“Alright,” he nodded, getting back to his feet and finding his resolve. “Alright, let’s do this thing! Get ready to start!”
But as he moved away, Mighty looked over his shoulder at Shadow.
And a tiny part of him believed.
ACT TWO
“The Black Comet? Are you certain?”
“Honestly, no,” Rouge the Bat admitted over a secure frequency. “But Shadow is.”
Sitting in the central chair of the Bullpen, the GUN Commander arched his fingers in heavy contemplation. Events had conspired to make him a liar. He had vowed to change tactics, to no longer run headfirst at the Nemesis... and then they had shot the President. Then they had carefully planned to cause terror and confusion. Then he had gone back on his word, sending all the military might he could muster charging into the Lost Jungle. And for what? Shadow was missing. Probably captured. Possibly dead.
Was an impact crater worth the sacrifice? He wanted to think so.
Stay focused. Stay professional. Stay in command. The Nemesis were still out there. GUN could still emerge victorious. Shadow would understand, and humanity’s defiant spirit would endure.
Just as he would have wanted.
“Alright,” the old soldier sighed. “What’s your status?”
“Stone says that we’re ten minutes from the rendezvous with Shadow’s battalion,” the bat reported. “I’m with him now, on the control deck of his MK-RS.”
“And what about Shadow’s battalion?”
“Who knows?”
The Commander scowled. “Damn it, Rouge...!”
“They’re a headless beast now, sir. Better to leave them alone. Let them surge ahead with established orders. This is where the action will be now, and no way am I missing it.” Usual calm, breathless tones were layered with real emotion. “Sir, I lost Shadow. I want to get him back... please.”
“You leave me little choice in the matter. Put Stone on, will you?”
Rouge let her gratitude be known. Temporary silence befell the frequency. In that silence, the Commander became custodian of a new update. It was handed over by a male analyst, so hectic was the Bullpen that he was indistinguishable from his colleagues. By the time Captain Stone’s brusque voice began to repeat itself through various speakers, the entire situation had changed. Dramatically.
“Sir? Sir, are you there, sir? Sir?”
The Commander could barely tear his heterochromia away from the update. “What in the hell...?” he whispered, before remembering his subordinate in the field. “Stone, we’re getting a live video feed here! We’ll patch you in, find a monitor!”
“Understood, sir...”
“...I’m at one now. What am I looking at?”
The GUN second-in-command was joined by Rouge, who hovered above the left shoulder of his dynamically contoured stealth armour. Together they stared at the biggest screen to be embedded in the MK-RS Pathfinder communication terminal. After a few seconds, the image flickered and solidified.
It was Shadow the Hedgehog.
Tied to a chair in a rainforest clearing. Wounded. Defeated.
But alive.
“The feed is scrambled,” the Commander was explaining as they watched, “so we can’t get a trace on the source, but they’ve got to be close!”
For a tense moment, nothing happened. Rouge felt her heart somersault, undecided whether to celebrate Shadow being alive or mourn his captivity. She continued to watch as a trio of figures walked into shot. The Nemesis were two. Silently intimidating. Audacious. A mere presence more than anything else. It was the third, very different, figure who stepped forward and addressed the camera. He was short, around three feet, with black fur. A bright red shell betrayed him as being an armadillo.
“GUN,” he said coolly. “I deeply regret the position in which you have placed my friends and I. Believe me when I say it gives me no pleasure to present to you such an ultimatum, but you have left me little choice.”
“Who is this jerk?” Stone failed to restrain himself.
Rouge chastised the outburst. “Quiet!”
“We are aware of your locations and intent,” the armadillo continued, obviously talking to a one-way camera and unaware of his audience’s reactions. “You have shown no mercy in tearing up the Lost Jungle with your war machines, and will stop at nothing to achieve your unjust objective... namely, the destruction of this peaceful robotic race.” He gestured to the Nemesis flanking Shadow. “They have done nothing but act as a scapegoat for your own failings in the wake of the widespread civil unrest. You have forced them into this situation with such behaviour.”
Again, it was Stone who interrupted. “He’s insane if he believes that...!”
The polite and formal tone of address carried on, oblivious. “I apologise for this, but I must ask for your co-operation. If you fail to comply with our forthcoming demands, you will never see Agent Shadow again.”
“Yes, we will,” Stone snapped childishly at the monitor. “We’ll see him when we find you and blow you all to hell, you son of a...”
“Firstly, you are to cease your advancement into the Lost Jungle.”
“Like that’ll happen...”
“Secondly, you are to lay down your arms.”
“As soon as I’ve shot you in the...”
“And thirdly, you are to retreat in the exact direction you have travelled.”
Stone went for another tirade against the video feed, but Rouge cut him short. “Yelling isn’t going to solve anything,” she told him. “Besides, this message tells us a lot more about their plans than they realise. If we play along, we might get Shadow back and be able to strike at a later date!”
“You want to do what this nutter says?”
The mind of Captain Stone worked only in a handful of ways. When not plotting to further his own career and thirsting for more personal authority, he dealt with the concept of justice from a decidedly black-and-white perspective. The bad guys were the bad guys. They were to be attacked and defeated by the good guys... namely, GUN. Anything other than fighting, or the straightforward methodology of looking for a fight, failed to register as a viable tactical option. Rouge might as well have been pleading her case in ancient Babylonian for all the good it would do.
Thankfully, the Commander was still patched in. “She’s got a point, Stone.”
Stone rued the comm frequency. “Sir...?!”
“Think about what they haven’t asked us. They haven’t asked us to leave the Nemesis alone or put out a press release to clear their name. They haven’t told us what they dug up from the impact crater, either, nor threatened us with it. Plus, they have a mole inside GUN, in case you’d forgotten.”
“So if we don’t do as they ask,” Rouge added, “they’ll know.”
“This armadillo is a little deluded,” the final authority determined over the speakers in his usual gruff manner, “but he believes what he’s talking about. That puts Shadow at risk. When we didn’t know if he was alive or dead, it was different. We couldn’t endanger an entire operation on guesswork... but now? He’s out there. He’s in trouble. He needs our help. Stone, turn your battalion around. I’ll order the same of the others.”
Through gritted teeth came edgy compliance. “Understood, sir. But I must protest.”
“Noted. Now, get the hell out of there!”
A weapon.
Not a violent or spectacular one. Worse. An emotional one.
A thing to be used.
Used to manipulate the will of others. Used to blackmail good people into doing something bad. Used to cover the escape of criminals. It was a disgusting thought. Worse than the times before, when villains had wanted his destructive energy. His ultimate power. That was simple to understand. That was the past.
That was when he had a power to abuse. Not like now.
Now he was empty.
And still a thing to be used.
No more.
With a surge of raw physical strength, Shadow wrenched at the rope that bound his wrists together.
And broke free.
ACT THREE
They were coming for him. One... no, two.
He remained crouched atop a giant mushroom, hidden from ground level. Metal chains were jangling nearby. Gaining. A meter away, if that. Red eyes narrowed as he watched them emerge from the undergrowth. They were hunting him. Stalking their pray, as if he were a caribou to be stuffed and mounted in a trophy cabinet.
But Shadow was no trophy.
Immediately upon releasing himself from captivity, he had followed the example set by all preceding fugitives throughout history... and ran. While apparently busy with deactivating the camera equipment used to flaunt him before GUN, the Nemesis had dropped everything and given chase. Their internal sensors had been finely honed. Any and all movement was impossible to hide from their steely masks. Now crouched on the mushroom, Shadow kept perfectly still and wished his heart would stop thumping so loudly.
Here they were. Two, in single file.
Mismatched with nature.
Thugs.
Shadow waited until the lead Nemesis was directly beneath the oversized fungus before leaping into action. He landed awkwardly on leather-clad shoulders. For a brief moment, they were as father and son playing piggyback. That was until the hedgehog ruined such a happy image by grabbing the neon-daubed mask between his legs.
It came away with a particularly violent rip. The Nemesis screeched an alarm.
Too late.
Shadow plunged his glove into the exposed workings of the head.
And tore the Nemesis apart from the inside-out.
They fell together to the jungle floor. Sparks and dirt splashed in tiny arcs as Shadow rolled away from one metallic corpse and moved to create another. Alas, the element of surprise had a limit to its use.
During his comrade’s death, the second Nemesis had unzipped his leather jacket. A hatch had been opened in the cold iron chestplate beneath, revealing a hidden compartment exactly where a ribcage would be, were he human.
No ribcage this time. Only a loaded 9mm handgun.
Which was levelled at Shadow.
“That explains how you managed to fool Mighty into thinking you were peaceful,” grunted the hedgehog from the mud. “It doesn’t explain why, though.”
Silence.
The intent to kill was clear. Pistol clicked ready.
Then a gunshot rang out.
Birds scattered from their nests. Wildlife fled the scene.
And the Nemesis toppled over, dead.
“Shadow...!”
He wheeled at the sound of her voice. From behind yet another large mushroom, she glided over to greet him, black wings a furious blur. Her expression of relief was blatant. The face behind her, meanwhile, the face of Captain Stone, displayed only satisfaction in contrast. The smoking rifle he sported explained why.
Rouge was not impressed by such marksmanship. She was just glad to see that Shadow was alive and, for the time being, safe.
And while he did not admit it, Shadow was glad to see her, too.
Mighty the Armadillo sat amidst his automated comrades in the back of a truck.
They hardly moved, despite the rough terrain they sped through. He was still feeling a little rigid himself. The formality with which he had addressed GUN during his ultimatum did not come naturally. Still, it was nice to be nice.
Then Shadow had ruined everything by escaping, of course.
However, that was not the most troublesome element for Mighty to comprehend. Plans of such risk often changed. He had almost expected it. Shadow was the Ultimate Lifeform, after all, despite seeming somewhat weak and easy to capture. In some small way, the armadillo was grateful. Taking a hostage did not sit comfortably alongside his pacifist ideology. Yes, yes, it was a desperate time, calling for a desperate measure... that much he knew. That much he accepted. But even the threat of violence was enough to shake him. And that was without even remembering what Shadow had told him.
The President of the United Federation. Shot. Nearly killed. Hospitalised.
Mighty had no love for the government, it had to be said. All too often they relied on their military might to enforce arbitrary laws on a diverse population. By contrast, Mighty was free in thought and action. Nobody needed to be led by a handful of men in suits. Life was to be enjoyed. Life was nature.
But such a horrible method of terror... such violence... no. No way.
It was not his style.
Doubts boiled over in his mind. The armadillo looked around the truck for reassurance. For a sign from his allies that everything was going to be alright. That they were peaceful, like he, and honouring the promise they had made.
Only impassive masks stared back at him with vacant eyes.
Yeah.
Totally reassuring.
The log rolled over under his foot. “They’re long gone, Shadow.”
Captain Stone had a wonderful knack for stating the obvious. On the opposite side of the jungle clearing, Shadow scarcely felt the need to acknowledge his superior. Dishevelled spikes pointed skyward as he kept his head pointed at the muddy ground. For what he looked, he had no idea. Tyre tracks pointed in a number of directions. They knew exactly where the GUN battalions were retreating to.
The Nemesis would simply slip away. Again.
He had failed.
Again.
Noting his downward spiral of grief, Rouge fluttered to his side. “Come on, Shadow, we should get going. Stone and I slipped away during the retreat and it’s getting dark. You want a ride home or not?”
The hedgehog turned to her and she soaked in his appearance. The bandage on his left arm was stained with blood and earth. The tuft of fur, usually pristine to adorn his chest, was no longer white. Gloves were ripped. Rocket-powered sneakers were rendered useless. He had been pushed to an edge that she had never seen before.
Shadow looked into the palms of his hands, then back up to Rouge.
“If this is what it means to be normal,” he told her quietly, “then I hate it.”
“I know you do,” she replied.
EPILOGUE
This is a weapon of mass destruction.
Something not to be taken lightly.
The Commander bathed in the artificial glow of the Bullpen plasma screens. For a few rare seconds, he was left alone. Calm descended over his central chair. Head dipped as he let out a slow exhale and heard the words echo in his conscience. Was it truly the right thing to do? He could still return to the Research Core.
Stop them from making his own mistake. On his behalf.
“Excuse me, sir?”
He jolted upright and stood, straightening his tunic. “What is it?”
“We have word from Captain Stone’s battalion. Agent Shadow is with them.” At last, some good news. “Somehow he escaped the Nemesis. Apparently, Agent Rouge picked him up, as did the Captain.”
“I bet they did,” the Commander chuckled, secretly applauding their initiative.
“More importantly, we have an ID on the armadillo.”
The older officer wasted no time. He marched across the Bullpen to a mainframe database terminal and asked to hear the name. Mighty, eh? At first, it did not sound familiar, nor seem that special. All the same, it was punched into the keyboard. Computer cores whirred to life and a result appeared: Mighty the Armadillo. Sure enough, the file photograph matched the guy from the hostage video.
“Sixteen years old,” the Commander read aloud. “No criminal record, which explains how we missed him in previous searches.”
Then his eyes, one green and the other brown, fell towards the bottom of the page.
“It can’t be...!”
By his side, the GUN officer who had delivered the report was confused. He had not been eavesdropping on the terminal, rather simply awaiting orders. Nobody else was close by, and so he stepped forward. “Sir?”
The Commander pointed at the screen.
At three names labelled as ‘known associates’ of Mighty.
“Get them here.”
“But sir,” came a shocked dispute. “They’re global heroes, how can...?”
“Just get them here! Now!”
Written by Glenn Scully
