Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“I have the portal ready,” Merlina said, her voice tight with urgency, eyes darting to the thickening dark mist winding its way up the spiral staircase. “But I fear they’ll reach me before the portal can deliver anyone to safety.” Her hands trembled as she held the shimmering, swirling frame of the portal open, tendrils of magic dancing around her fingers.

“Do not fret, Merlina. I will stand guard here,” Lancelot declared with unwavering resolve, stepping protectively in front of her. His silhouette cut an imposing figure, his armor gleaming faintly even in the dim light. “I will defend you to my last breath.”

“No, Father! I can’t go alone! I can’t leave you!” Galahad cried out, his voice raw with desperation. The child’s eyes brimmed with tears, fear twisting in his chest as he looked from Lancelot to the portal.

Lancelot turned, his expression softening as he knelt down in front of his son. Placing a steady hand on Galahad’s head, he gently ruffled his quills, meeting his eyes with a steady, comforting gaze. “Son, this world is collapsing around us,” he murmured, his voice a mixture of sorrow and pride. “But you—you are my legacy. My greatest achievement. I can face whatever comes, knowing you’ll survive.”

Galahad trembled, clinging to his father as tears spilled freely down his cheeks. “I-I can’t do this… it can’t end like this,” he whimpered, burying his face in Lancelot’s shoulder, as if he could hold onto this moment forever.

Lancelot pulled him back, wiping away the boy’s tears with a thumb, his own expression unyielding yet filled with love. “This is not the end for you,” he whispered, holding his son’s gaze. “This is only the beginning.” A bittersweet smile flickered across his face, his heart aching as he rose to his full height.

The darkness loomed closer, shadows twisting and curling against the walls like hungry serpents. Without hesitation, Lancelot pulled down his visor, his face hardening as he gripped the hilt of his sword.

“Now, go, my son,” he commanded, his voice firm yet tender, glancing once more at Galahad, a silent plea to be brave. “Don’t look back.”

With one final glance, Galahad turned and stepped toward the shimmering portal, every instinct urging him to stay. But he forced himself forward, holding his breath as the world behind him began to blur. As the portal’s light enveloped him, he caught the last sight of his father—standing tall, a knight of unbreakable resolve—preparing to face the dark mist alone.

On earth:

A soldier’s voice was steady but laced with urgency as he stood before the commander in the stark, dimly lit office of the military base.

“Sir, we’re detecting a rapidly increasing spike in Chaos energy building up in Moonveil Forest,” the soldier reported, his posture tense. He understood the severity of this reading—such a high concentration of energy likely meant a major threat was brewing. His tone underscored the gravity of the situation, knowing it could be a matter of national security.

The commander didn’t hesitate, his eyes narrowing as he absorbed the information. “That’s a Level A threat,” he responded, his voice firm and measured. “Mobilize all available forces to the anomaly site. We’re not taking any chances.”

He paused, glancing briefly at the rows of digital readouts on the nearby screen before adding with precision, “Get Team Dark involved as well.”

There was no room for error here; the commander’s command carried an unspoken urgency. If anyone could handle an energy surge like this, especially in the enigmatic Moonveil Forest, it was Team Dark.

The response was immediate. Across the base, alarms blared as soldiers and specialists sprang into action. The hum of helicopters spinning up, the clattering of gear, and barked orders filled the air as the military mobilized with precision and intensity. Squads of armored vehicles were lined up and ready, each vehicle stocked with advanced technology designed to detect and suppress chaos energy. Soldiers in reinforced combat gear, faces masked and weapons in hand, moved swiftly toward transports. The base’s staging area, once orderly and calm, transformed into a scene of organized chaos.

In the midst of this, the elite Team Dark received their orders. Shadow, Rouge, and Omega were in the readiness bay, suiting up for what promised to be a critical mission. Shadow stood in his trademark black and red, eyes sharp and focused as he tightened the wrist guards on his gloves. His gaze flicked to the tactical map projected on a nearby screen, tracing the path to Moonveil Forest. The Chaos Emerald was tucked securely in his grasp, its faint glow a reminder of the power he could channel if the need arose.

Rouge, adjusting her communication headset, wore her usual air of confidence but beneath it was a glint of determination. Her knowledge of energy sources and her stealth skills made her invaluable for scouting the anomaly’s location and assessing the environment. Meanwhile, Omega stood beside her, his massive frame imposing even among the military machinery. His weapons systems were fully primed, gleaming with cold metal as he ran diagnostics, his mechanical voice grumbling about the “combat efficiency protocols” he was ready to deploy.

Their transport—a heavily armored VTOL aircraft—was ready on the runway, its engines roaring as the team boarded. Shadow took a seat at the edge of the cabin, gripping the Chaos Emerald tightly, his mind already running through potential scenarios. Rouge settled beside him, her expression steely, her gaze flicking between her teammates and the map screen on her device, where real-time intel streamed in.

The pilot’s voice crackled over the intercom, “Approaching Moonveil Forest—anomaly site approximately twenty clicks southwest. All units report ready.” Outside the aircraft, the dark outline of Moonveil Forest loomed ahead, its canopy dense and mysterious, shrouded in fog that thickened with the gathering energy within. An eerie glow pulsed from the forest’s depths, visible even from the air as the VTOL began its descent.

Other forces were converging on the area as well. Tanks and armored personnel carriers had rolled up along the forest’s edge, creating a defensive perimeter. Squads of soldiers advanced in formation, their scanners and sensors attuned to fluctuations in chaos energy. Every step closer to the forest was like approaching an electric storm, an unseen pressure building in the air.

As Team Dark’s VTOL touched down on a cleared path in the forest, Shadow, Rouge, and Omega stepped out, taking in the strange sight before them. The trees around them were twisted in odd directions, faint tendrils of dark energy floating through the air like spectral vines. The ground seemed to hum, pulsing with chaotic energy as if it had a heartbeat of its own.

Shadow stepped forward, eyes narrowing as he extended his senses to feel the chaos energy pulling at him like a magnet. “Whatever’s causing this, it’s strong,” he muttered.

Rouge nodded, her gaze scanning the dark, foreboding trees. “If the readings are right, this is more than just an anomaly—it could be a trap.”

Omega’s mechanical limbs clicked as he readied his weapon systems, his scanners already analyzing the fluctuating energy levels. “DIRECTIVE: NEUTRALIZE THREATS WITH MAXIMUM EFFICIENCY.”

With a final nod, Team Dark plunged into the depths of Moonveil Forest, their senses heightened and ready for anything as they made their way toward the pulsing core of chaos energy at the heart of the ancient woods.

As the gathered forces encircled the anomaly, a deafening crack echoed through the forest. The ground trembled, and in the heart of the energy spike, a portal tore open, spilling blinding light and rippling waves of chaos energy into the air. Every soldier, weapon raised, was primed for an attack, muscles tense as they braced for whatever might emerge.

But instead of a monster or an enemy force, a small figure stumbled forward—a child, pale-furred, and trembling. It was a white hedgehog, barely managing a few steps before collapsing to his knees. He raised his head to the sky and screamed, his voice laced with heart-wrenching despair, “Father!” His body then hunched forward, shuddering with quiet sobs as he pressed his hands to the damp forest floor, the portal closing behind him with a soft hum that left a lingering sense of loss in the air.

Rouge, crouching near the edge of the clearing, raised an eyebrow. “A… child?” Her voice was barely a whisper, her expression a mix of surprise and confusion. She glanced over at Shadow, her dark eyes searching his face for direction.

Shadow narrowed his gaze, his stance never relaxing. “Yes, but there’s chaos energy radiating from him.” His voice was firm. “Stay alert.” He signaled for the soldiers to hold formation, his eyes focused as he approached the sobbing figure.

The white hedgehog hadn’t noticed the arrival of others; his shoulders shook as he cried, lost in his own world of grief. Shadow took careful steps forward, his expression softened by a flicker of compassion but tempered by caution. “Hey, kid,” he called gently, his voice a rare mix of calm and authority. “Are you… alright?”

The child’s small, quivering ears perked at the sound. Slowly, he lifted his tear-streaked face to meet Shadow’s gaze, his eyes wide and filled with disbelief. For a moment, he simply stared, sorrow etched across his face. Then, with an agonizing, unsteady step forward, he seemed to crumble into a new wave of tears, reaching out for Shadow.

“F-Father!” he cried, his voice a broken whisper. Before Shadow could react, the child lunged forward, arms wrapping tightly around him in a desperate embrace. The soldiers held their positions, tense and ready, awaiting Shadow’s command, but Shadow stood frozen, caught off-guard by the tearful child clinging to him.

Shadow’s gaze softened, bewildered by the intense display of grief and desperation in this young stranger. The weight of the child’s grief seeped into him, grounding him in place. The white hedgehog buried his face in Shadow’s dark fur, sobbing harder, his small fingers gripping with an urgency that startled Shadow.

“P-please,” the child’s voice broke, barely a whisper as his sobs continued. “Don’t… don’t leave me…”

The child’s grip loosened, and he slumped unconscious against Shadow. Instinctively, Shadow caught him, adjusting to support the small, fragile weight in his arms. Rouge stepped closer, her gaze curious and slightly amused.

“Well, that was… unexpected,” she murmured, studying the young hedgehog in Shadow’s arms. He couldn’t have been older than three, his small frame and innocent face contrasting sharply with the chaotic energy that had surged around him moments before.

Shadow’s expression remained wary, though a trace of protectiveness flickered in his eyes. “We need to have him examined,” he said firmly. “We have no idea who he is or where he came from.” Carefully, he carried the child toward their aircraft, with Rouge following close behind.

Once on board, medics began inspecting the young hedgehog, running scans and assessments under the aircraft’s sterile lights. The team confirmed the child’s health, although they noted signs of mild malnourishment. There was no clear explanation for his appearance—or the powerful chaos energy still radiating faintly from him.

As they received orders to return to the base, Shadow’s mind lingered on the strange events. He couldn’t shake the desperation in the child’s cries, the way the little one had clung to him with such genuine need. More disturbing was the sensation of chaos energy within the child—raw, familiar, and unsettlingly similar to his own. The thought gnawed at him, creating an ache he couldn’t quite ignore.

Back at the base, the child was placed in the medical wing for a thorough examination, and Shadow lingered nearby, waiting restlessly for updates. The child’s faint voice echoed in his mind, pleading with him not to leave. Shadow had no intention of leaving until he was sure the child would be safe.

After what felt like an eternity, Shadow was summoned to the commander’s office. The commander, slumped behind his desk, looked up with a weariness that suggested he hadn’t slept in days. Shadow braced himself, feeling an inexplicable sense of urgency.

“I have some news about the child,” the commander began, rubbing a hand over his face before meeting Shadow’s eyes. “Our tests confirm that he generates chaos energy much like you do.”

Shadow’s pulse quickened as he listened, the pieces beginning to fit together in strange, unsettling ways.

“We also ran a blood test,” the commander continued, voice tinged with a gravity that weighed heavily on every word. “It turns out, Shadow… he is, biologically, your son.”

The words struck Shadow like a physical blow. He stood frozen, processing the revelation as the room seemed to close in around him.

“W-what?” Shadow stammered, struggling to comprehend. “That… that’s impossible.” His mind flashed to the child’s earlier cries, the way he’d called him “Father.” He had assumed it was the child’s distress or confusion, nothing more.

The commander leaned forward, his expression serious. “Not if he’s from another dimension,” he said, watching Shadow’s reaction closely. The explanation settled heavily in the room, suggesting a world of possibilities Shadow had never considered.

Shadow knew this revelation made the child’s arrival infinitely more complex. Why would a child so young be sent across dimensions? From his earlier reaction, it was clear he hadn’t come willingly; someone had sent him away for a reason—likely out of desperation.

The commander leaned forward, his voice grave but expectant. “I believe your presence will help when he wakes up. Can I count on you, Shadow?”

“Of course, sir,” Shadow replied, no hesitation in his tone. He needed answers as much as anyone, and this hoglet clearly held the key.

“Good. We’ll notify you as soon as he’s awake,” the commander said, watching Shadow’s thoughtful expression as he turned to leave. Shadow was troubled, turning over the pieces in his mind. He knew himself, and he’d never send his child across dimensions lightly. For this little one to have been forced into such danger, something terrible must have happened on the other side.

Shadow was relieved this information hadn’t leaked to his teammates yet. Omega would be curious, Rouge even more so, and the relentless questions would only add to his already troubled mind. Tonight, there would be no sleep—he was no stranger to all-nighters, but this one gnawed at him more deeply than usual.

Hours later, he received word that the child was awake. As he approached the room, Shadow could feel chaos energy buzzing in the air. The door opened to a surprising sight: the young hedgehog, eyes glowing neon blue, floated objects around the room through sheer telekinetic energy. Startled, the medics and soldiers watched from a safe distance, unsure how to contain this power. But the moment the hoglet spotted Shadow, his hand lowered, and the objects clattered back to the floor as the glow faded.

“Father!” he cried, and without hesitation, the child rushed forward, wrapping his small arms around Shadow in a tight embrace. Shadow’s chest tightened; he was only father to the child by technicalities, yet he couldn’t keep up the illusion.

“Kid… we need to talk. Take a seat,” Shadow instructed gently, watching as the hoglet obediently sat down on the edge of the bed. His manners and calm compliance surprised Shadow—this was no ordinary child.

“Can you tell me everything you remember before you came through the portal?” Shadow asked.

The boy nodded, his voice small but steady as he recounted what had happened: his own father, had fought alongside a mage named Merlina. Together, they’d sacrificed their lives to keep the portal active, sending him here to escape something he called “the World Eater.” By the time he finished, the boy’s voice had turned into a tremble, the trauma of it all written on his young face.

Shadow took a deep breath, bracing himself for the difficult explanation ahead. “I know this will be hard to understand,” he began gently, meeting the child’s teary, hopeful eyes. “When you stepped through that portal, you entered an alternate dimension. I’m not your father here. My name is Shadow the Hedgehog, but I’m… I’m his counterpart.”

The child’s face fell as the words registered. “Y-You… you’re not Father?” he stammered, tears pooling in his eyes as realization dawned.

Shadow shook his head, feeling a pang of helplessness as grief washed over the young hedgehog. “No… I’m not.” He watched as the child’s shoulders slumped, his tiny hands rubbing at his tear-streaked face. A broken sob escaped him as he processed the weight of his loss.

“T-Then… the World Eater… it got him,” he choked out, voice cracked and trembling. Shadow could only stand there, at a loss, as the boy mourned. This wasn’t just any child’s heartbreak—this was technically his child, torn from a father who had fought to protect him.

Shadow felt frustration twist within him. He, the ultimate lifeform, who could take down powerful enemies, was completely out of his depth with a grieving child. Watching the boy tremble and sniffle, Shadow’s determination hardened. He knew in that moment that he couldn’t simply pass this child off to anyone else; he’d be the one to look after him.

“I’ll take care of you,” Shadow promised, surprised at how naturally the words slipped out.

The boy’s tear-streaked face looked up, eyes filled with a glimmer of hope. “Can you tell me… what’s your name?” Shadow asked gently.

The child sniffled, trying to compose himself. “G-Galahad the Hedgehog,” he whispered.

Shadow nodded, placing a hand on Galahad’s shoulder. This journey was only beginning, but he was determined to see it through, for both their sakes.

Chapter Text

Within the confines of the military base, the sterile air hummed with the faint buzz of distant machinery and the steady rhythm of booted footsteps. Galahad clung to Shadow’s side like a shadow of his own, wide-eyed and silently drinking in his unfamiliar surroundings. The boy’s curiosity was palpable, yet he didn’t voice a single question, instead trailing after Shadow down the winding corridors. To Shadow, it was baffling how quickly the child had attached himself, clinging to him as though he were a lifeline in an alien world.

The weight of a promise lingered heavy in Shadow’s mind. He had vowed to protect the little one, sent to him by his counterpart, and he had no intention of reneging. The decision, though resolute, came with the understanding that raising a child—even one so unusual—was no small undertaking. It would undoubtedly wreak havoc on his tightly regimented schedule. Yet, as Shadow pondered his responsibilities, a sudden, unexpected sensation jolted him from his thoughts—a tiny hand wrapping around his own.

The touch startled Shadow more than he cared to admit. Looking down, he noticed Galahad’s white quills trembling ever so slightly, betraying the boy’s unease in the unfamiliar environment. The sight softened Shadow’s guarded demeanor. Instead of pulling away, he adjusted his grip, ensuring it was firm yet comforting. Whatever it took to ease the boy’s anxiety was worth the effort. Around them, soldiers cast bewildered glances, their disbelief evident at seeing the Shadow in such a paternal role. A sharp glare from Shadow silenced any potential remarks, leaving them to proceed unbothered through the base.

Once they were out of earshot, Shadow decided it was time to address something critical. His voice dropped low, carrying an edge of seriousness. “There’s one thing, Galahad. You can’t tell anyone you’re from another world. It’s for your own safety.” The weight of those words hung in the air, as Shadow knew the chaos such a revelation could unleash.

“Okay, dad,” Galahad responded without hesitation, his innocent tone catching Shadow off guard. He nearly stumbled, his ears twitching in irritation as he debated whether or not to correct the boy. Galahad wasn’t entirely wrong in his assumption, but the term “dad” was an unexpected—and unsettling—addition to their dynamic. Before Shadow could formulate a response, his musings were interrupted by the arrival of Rouge.

The bat strolled toward them, her eyes alight with amusement, a smug smile playing on her lips. “Well, well, well. Aren’t you a sight to see, Shadow? Bonding with our guest, I see,” she teased, her tone dripping with playful malice.

“Rouge, don’t,” Shadow growled, his voice carrying a warning edge. Her grin only widened. 

“Although, I have to admit, your timing is perfect,” Shadow muttered. “Do me a favor and watch Galahad for a moment. I need to report to the commander.”

But as soon as the words left his mouth, Galahad reacted with visceral terror. The boy flung himself at Shadow’s leg, clinging to it as if letting go would send him spiraling into the void. “No, please, dad! Don’t leave me!” Galahad cried, tears streaming down his face as sobs wracked his small frame. His fear and desperation clawed at Shadow, who stood frozen, struggling to comfort the traumatized child without causing harm.

“Dad?” Rouge echoed, her tone shifting to one of concern, though the amusement lingered in her expression. Shadow sighed heavily, frustration mounting as he grappled with the challenge before him. How was he supposed to handle this fragile, heartbroken creature clinging to him like his very existence depended on it? The task seemed impossibly delicate, even for him.

The sterile corridors of the military base seemed to close in around them as Galahad clung to Shadow’s leg, his small frame trembling with lingering anxiety. Shadow crouched slightly to meet the boy’s gaze, his voice low and steady as he attempted to reassure him.

“Galahad, I will only be gone for a few minutes,” he said firmly, then gestured toward Rouge, who stood nearby with her arms crossed, an amused smile tugging at her lips. “Rouge is my trusted teammate. She will take care of you while I’m gone.”

Rouge, catching the desperation in Shadow’s look, smirked. “Ah, yes! Don’t worry, Galahad. I’ll take great care of you,” she said cheerfully. Then, with a mischievous grin that made Shadow’s eye twitch, she added, “I’m a very good friend of your dad.”

Shadow barely restrained a growl of annoyance, letting her comment slide for the moment. Meanwhile, Galahad turned his focus to Rouge, his bright, curious eyes narrowing slightly as if analyzing her for signs of trustworthiness.

“O-okay…” the boy finally sniffled, his quills lowering as he hesitantly released Shadow’s leg.

Shadow placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “You’re safe. Don’t worry,” he said softly before rising and making his way toward the commander’s office.

The office was a stark contrast to the busy hallways, dimly lit save for the glow of a desk lamp and the faint gleam of monitors displaying classified information. Commander Abraham sat at his desk, engrossed in a report. His sharp eyes lifted as Shadow entered the room, his expression expectant.

“Ah, Shadow. I assume you have information about our guest?” he asked.

Shadow nodded curtly and began to relay the situation, detailing Galahad’s arrival, his origins, and the complexities of his presence. Abraham listened intently, rubbing his temples by the time Shadow finished.

“Well, how very typical—and noble—of a version of you,” Abraham remarked with a dry chuckle. “If his world was destroyed, then it’s clear we can’t send him back.”

“Then our priority must be integrating him into this world,” Abraham continued, though his tone hinted at the paperwork nightmare awaiting them.

“I intend to be his guardian,” Shadow stated firmly, his crimson gaze steady.

The commander leaned back in his chair, his eyebrows shooting up in surprise. “Excuse me?” he drawled, his sharp eyes scrutinizing Shadow as though waiting for him to reveal he wasn’t serious.

“I’ve already promised Galahad I would take care of him,” Shadow said, frowning slightly. “I am a hedgehog of my word.” He crossed his arms, bracing himself for the inevitable objections. Truthfully, the decision may have been rash, but the thought of sending Galahad to strangers felt deeply, inherently wrong.

Abraham sighed, rubbing his forehead as if the conversation were already giving him a headache. “Shadow, do you have any idea what raising a child entails?” His skepticism was palpable.

Shadow hesitated briefly, his jaw tightening. “No… but I’ll figure it out. If my counterpart could manage it, so can I. Besides, Galahad isn’t just any child. He has abilities—dangerous ones. Placing him with ordinary parents would be reckless, especially considering his connection to me.”

The commander groaned, clearly unconvinced. “You might have a point about his powers, but you’re overlooking one major factor, Shadow,” he said, leaning forward. “And I hate to bring this up, but you didn’t have a normal childhood yourself. I’m concerned about your ability to give this boy what he needs.”

Shadow’s frown deepened as he remained silent, uncomfortable under the weight of Abraham’s scrutiny.

“Foster parents are subjected to rigorous evaluations to ensure they can provide children with the care they need,” Abraham continued, his tone pragmatic but not unkind. “You don’t meet those criteria, Shadow—not as a slight, but as an observation. This isn’t about teaching him to control his powers; it’s about being a parent. That requires gentleness, patience, and love. And those qualities—well, they’re not exactly in your wheelhouse.”

The words stung, though Shadow refused to show it. His hands tightened into fists at his sides, not out of anger but frustration. The commander’s criticism felt brutally accurate, and it chipped away at the confidence Shadow had mustered. Still, the idea of abandoning his promise to Galahad felt worse.

Abraham, sensing Shadow’s discomfort, softened slightly. “Look, I’m not saying you can’t do this, but if you’re serious about taking on this role, you’ll need to prove you’re capable of providing more than just protection. This isn’t a mission, Shadow. It’s a life.”

The weight of the commander’s words lingered heavily in the room, and for the first time, Shadow found himself questioning whether he truly understood what he had committed to.

“It’s because he’s your kin, isn’t it? If it had been any other child who came through that portal, you wouldn’t have taken this on,” the commander remarked, his tone sharp yet probing. The silence that followed was deafening, and Shadow’s unflinching gaze gave away nothing—but the lack of denial spoke volumes.

The commander let out a heavy sigh, rubbing his temples in exasperation. “Gosh, you hedgehogs are so stubborn,” he muttered, as if dealing with Shadow had become a full-time job in itself.

After a moment’s pause, he straightened in his chair and fixed Shadow with a serious look. “Alright, fine. You can be his guardian,” he conceded. Shadow’s ears twitched slightly, though he otherwise remained motionless. “But there are conditions. I expect you to attend parental counseling sessions at least once a week. That’s non-negotiable. And don’t think this is the end of it. You’ll need extensive help to get him settled, and G.U.N. will be monitoring both his progress and yours—whether you like it or not. As you’ve pointed out, Galahad isn’t an ordinary child.”

Shadow absorbed the stipulations with a stiff nod, though he couldn’t decide whether the offer of support would ultimately help or simply add to his frustrations. Regardless, he understood the necessity, even if he wasn’t thrilled by the oversight.

The commander’s sharp gaze lingered on him. “I presume you haven’t prepared a room for him yet?”

Shadow shook his head. “No, but I don’t use my office much. I can convert that into a bedroom for him.”

The commander nodded approvingly. “Good. Galahad will stay here temporarily until you’ve sorted everything out. But you’d better make it quick, Shadow. This base is no place for a kid,” he added firmly, his words carrying a weight of expectation.

Shadow didn’t need the reminder. The thought of keeping Galahad in the cold, militarized environment of the base unsettled him as much as it did the commander. He gave another brief nod, silently vowing to make the necessary changes as soon as possible.

There was one thing Shadow had been pondering about though, a question that gnawed at the back of his mind, yet he dreaded bringing it up. Finally, he broke the silence, though his voice faltered with unease.

“The blood test…” Shadow began hesitantly, the words tasting bitter as they left his mouth. The mere mention of it made his chest tighten. He loathed confronting this part of himself.

The Commander, seated across from him, raised an eyebrow at the inquiry, his expression a mix of surprise and mild incredulity. “Did it show… a strong connection to the Black Arms?” Shadow pressed, his tone betraying his reluctance to delve deeper into this topic.

The Commander regarded him with a look that suggested the answer should have been obvious. “Yes,” he said matter-of-factly. “Despite the difference in his fur coloration, the connection is undeniable. His blood is green, Shadow. We’ve theorized that your offspring might dilute the alien influence, but it seems their DNA is exceptionally dominant. Galahad is as much of a hybrid as you are.”

Shadow stiffened at the explanation, his jaw tightening. The Commander noted the troubled expression crossing Shadow’s face but continued without pause. “Which brings me to the next point,” he said, his tone taking on a more pragmatic edge.

“You’ll need to donate more blood. For Galahad, In case he ever needs it.”

Shadow’s sharp red eyes darted to the Commander’s face. He understood the necessity of the request. Galahad might not be immortal like he was. Shadow could endure significant blood loss, but there were no guarantees the young hedgehog would share that resilience.

“I’ll do it,” Shadow said firmly, though his voice betrayed a flicker of unease. Then, after a beat of silence, he asked the question that weighed heavily on his mind. “But… is Galahad immortal?”

The words came slowly, as though it physically pained him to speak them. If he was going to care for the boy, he needed to know. The Commander let out a tired sigh and leaned back in his chair.

“We haven’t conducted any tests to determine that,” he admitted. “But given his ties to you and the aliens, I strongly recommend running critical tests for his well-being.”

Shadow froze. The weight of the Commander’s words sent a wave of protectiveness and simmering anger surging through him. His fists clenched, and his voice dropped to a dangerously cold tone.

“You’re suggesting experimenting on him?”

The atmosphere in the room shifted abruptly, tension so thick it seemed to constrict the air. The Commander blinked, clearly caught off guard by the sudden change in Shadow’s demeanor.

“Of course not,” the Commander said quickly, raising a hand in a placating gesture. “I mean medical tests, nothing invasive. For his health.”

Shadow’s shoulders relaxed slightly, though his piercing glare remained. The oppressive tension that had filled the room began to dissipate.

“Still,” the Commander continued cautiously, shifting the subject, “Galahad will need a cover story. The public can’t know about a dimensional breach or his origins—it’s a mess we can’t afford. Will you claim him as your legitimate son, or should we spin a different tale?”

Shadow stiffened, his ears flattening slightly as heat rose to his face. The idea embarrassed him, but he couldn’t deny the logic. Galahad was already calling him “Dad,” and it would make explaining his unique attributes easier.

“I…” Shadow hesitated, searching for the right words. He had envisioned himself as the boy’s guardian, not as a parent in the full sense of the word. Yet, deep down, he knew the truth was unavoidable.

“He’s already calling me Dad,” Shadow muttered, his voice softening. “Even if he knows I’m not his real father.” He let out a heavy sigh, resigned to the inevitable. “Fine. We’ll run with that story.”

The Commander’s lips curled into an amused smile as he studied Shadow. “Good. I’ll have someone arrange his identification papers. For now, focus on getting him settled in.”

Shadow gave a curt nod, recognizing the dismissal. Without another word, he turned on his heel and exited the room.

Once outside, he tapped the communicator on his wrist, his voice sharp and direct. “Rouge, come in. Where are you?”

The building was massive, and he had no time to waste.

The communicator crackled to life with Rouge’s voice, smooth and teasing as ever. “About time you finished the meeting, hon. We’re in the cafeteria,” she informed him, though he could tell from her tone that she was amused by something.

“I’ll be there shortly,” Shadow replied curtly, cutting the line as he turned to navigate the labyrinthine corridors of the base. He ignored the curious glances of passing soldiers, his focus singular as he strode purposefully toward the cafeteria. The sterile walls, illuminated by harsh overhead lights, blurred past him—just another reminder of the cold, unfeeling environment they were in.

The cafeteria was bustling with chatter and the clatter of trays, but Shadow’s sharp eyes quickly found his target. At a table near the corner, Rouge sat poised as always, her sharp grin suggesting she had been thoroughly enjoying herself. Beside her, Galahad sat with a sandwich in hand, nibbling at it as though it was the first real meal he’d had in days.

Even from a distance, Shadow noticed the tension in the boy’s quills—each one bristled slightly, betraying his unease despite the bright amber eyes fixed on his food. Galahad looked out of place here, too small, too young, and far too vulnerable in this military stronghold.

But the moment the boy spotted Shadow entering the room, his face lit up with joy that was almost blinding. He dropped his sandwich onto the plate with an audible plop and scrambled down from his seat, bolting across the cafeteria as fast as his little legs could carry him.

“Dad!” Galahad cried out, his voice ringing clear above the din.

Before Shadow could fully brace himself, small arms wrapped tightly around his waist. Shadow stood frozen, momentarily overwhelmed by the unexpected display of affection. Every conversation in the cafeteria seemed to falter as heads turned toward the scene. Soldiers and staff alike gawked at the reunion with varying degrees of surprise and amusement.

Shadow’s hand hovered in the air for a second before he awkwardly placed it on Galahad’s back, giving it a stiff but gentle pat. “I’m back,” he said, his voice low and even. “But you should finish your sandwich, Galahad.”

The boy, however, had no intention of letting go. His grip only tightened as he buried his face against Shadow’s leg, clearly unwilling to return to the table.

Shadow sighed, a faint flicker of helplessness crossing his otherwise stoic features. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Rouge sitting at the table, her smirk so wide it threatened to split her face in two. She was clearly savoring every moment of the scene, her sapphire eyes twinkling with amusement.

And she wasn’t alone. Whispered murmurs and amused smiles rippled through the cafeteria as the spectacle of the infamous Shadow the Hedgehog being hugged by a small child unfolded before them.

“Galahad,” Shadow said gently, crouching slightly so he could meet the boy’s eyes. “Come on. You need to eat.”

The boy hesitated but finally loosened his hold when Shadow lightly nudged him away. Even then, Galahad didn’t let go completely—his small hand slipped into Shadow’s larger one instead, holding on tightly as though afraid he might disappear.

Shadow allowed it, a faint flicker of softness in his crimson eyes as he led the boy back to the table. For now, he could make concessions. The boy’s world had been thrown into chaos, and Shadow understood all too well the need for some form of stability.

Once Galahad was seated again, Shadow took the chair beside him, resting his arms on the table as Rouge leaned forward, her curiosity palpable.

“So…” she began, her voice dripping with intrigue. “How did it go?”

Her gaze darted between Shadow and Galahad, her sharp grin widening as she noted the subtle way Shadow shifted closer to the boy, as though instinctively shielding him from the room.

Shadow exhaled slowly, as if bracing himself for the inevitable questions that would follow. “It went as expected,” he said, his tone neutral but the weight of the meeting still evident in his eyes. He glanced at Galahad, who had resumed eating but was now pressed lightly against his side, seeking comfort in his presence.

Rouge’s grin softened slightly, though her amusement lingered. “Looks like someone’s already attached to you,” she teased, motioning toward the boy.

Shadow didn’t respond immediately, his gaze fixed on Galahad, who looked up at him with a tentative smile. For the first time in what felt like ages, Shadow allowed the faintest hint of a smile to grace his lips.

“He’s my responsibility now,” he said quietly, more to himself than anyone else.

Rouge’s sapphire eyes widened in disbelief, her usual air of composed amusement replaced with raw surprise. For a moment, she simply stared at Shadow, as though waiting for him to retract what he had just implied.

“Excuse me, what?” she finally blurted, her voice rising slightly. She leaned forward, her wings twitching as if emphasizing her shock. “You’re going to adopt him?” she asked, the incredulity in her tone impossible to miss.

Her question hung in the air, drawing Galahad’s attention away from his sandwich. The young hedgehog tilted his head, his amber eyes darting between Shadow and Rouge. He chewed a little slower, clearly trying to piece together the conversation.

Shadow’s crimson gaze met Rouge’s directly, unwavering and calm despite her reaction. “I suppose you could call it that,” he admitted, his tone as neutral as ever.

Rouge’s jaw dropped slightly, but she quickly recovered, though her astonishment lingered. “Hold on,” she said, waving a hand dramatically as though trying to catch up with the situation. “I feel like I’m missing a lot of context here.” She rubbed her temple, her face briefly scrunching up like she was nursing an impending headache.

“I’m not explaining it here,” Shadow replied curtly, his voice taking on that no-nonsense edge she knew all too well. “If you want the details, ask the Commander.”

Rouge clicked her tongue in irritation but relented with a huff, leaning back in her seat and folding her arms across her chest. “Fine,” she said, rolling her eyes. “But you have to admit, this is the strangest thing you’ve done lately. And that’s saying something.”

As the two spoke, Galahad sat quietly, his small hands resting on the edge of the table. His ears twitched slightly, catching every word.

The cafeteria’s low hum of conversation provided a faint backdrop as Rouge leaned in, her curiosity as sharp as ever. “So, what’s the plan?” she asked, her tone probing but laced with genuine interest. She could already tell this development was going to upend Shadow’s life in ways he hadn’t fully grasped yet—and she had no intention of missing out on the spectacle.

Shadow crossed his arms and glanced at Galahad, who was finishing the last crumbs of his sandwich. “The plan is simple,” he began, his voice steady but thoughtful. “I’ll get him settled in here for now. I’ll need to rearrange a room at home for him. Until then, the base will have to suffice.”

Rouge’s expression shifted instantly, her brows knitting into a disapproving frown. “No,” she said firmly, cutting through his statement like a blade. “This is not a place for a child.”

Shadow turned to her, his crimson eyes narrowing slightly. “I don’t have a bed for him at home,” he countered, his tone edged with frustration.

Rouge let out an exasperated sigh and gave him an unimpressed look, one hand resting on her hip. “You’re serious, Shadow? You have a double bed. Just let the kid share with you while you sort out his room.”

Shadow blinked, caught off guard by the suggestion. His brows furrowed slightly as he mulled over her words. “Share… my bed?” he asked, his tone skeptical.

Rouge rolled her eyes at his reaction, leaning back in her chair as if preparing for a lecture. “Yes, parents share beds with their kids all the time, especially when they’re his age. Don’t you know that?” she said, her voice tinged with both amusement and mild exasperation.

Shadow was silent for a moment, his gaze dropping as if searching his memory. He wasn’t sure what “normal” parental behavior entailed. When he was a child, his interactions had been strictly controlled. He wasn’t even allowed sleepovers with Maria, let alone casual physical closeness.

“I… didn’t know that,” he admitted, his voice quieter, almost uncertain. He glanced at Galahad, who had been watching the exchange with wide, curious eyes. “I suppose that could work,” Shadow added, though his tone suggested he was still grappling with the idea of sharing his personal space—even with his sort-of son.

Galahad’s ears perked up at the conversation, his amber eyes sparkling with hope. “I can sleep in your bed?” he asked, his small voice filled with a mixture of surprise and excitement.

Shadow looked down at him, the boy’s genuine enthusiasm catching him off guard. “Yes,” he said after a moment, his voice softening. “Until your room is ready.”

The young hedgehog’s face lit up with a smile so bright it could have rivaled the stars. “Thank you, Dad!” he chirped, practically bouncing in his seat.

Rouge chuckled, shaking her head at the sight. “Well, looks like someone’s thrilled,” she said, her tone teasing but warm.

Shadow gave her a sidelong glance but didn’t respond. Instead, his gaze returned to Galahad, who was now fidgeting with the edge of his plate, clearly bubbling with excitement.

Rouge watched them both, a soft smile tugging at her lips. “You’re going to do just fine, hon,” she said, her voice carrying an uncharacteristic note of sincerity.

Shadow cast her a skeptical look but didn’t argue. This new chapter of his life would be a challenge, but it was one he was determined not to fail.

Chapter Text

The fluorescent lights of the cafeteria flickered softly as Shadow, Galahad, and Rouge exited, stepping into the pristine corridors of the G.U.N. base. The contrast between the sterile military environment and Galahad’s wide-eyed wonder couldn’t have been more striking.

The young hedgehog clung to Shadow’s hand, his amber eyes darting around at every sight and sound. He was visibly buzzing with curiosity, his little quills bristling as they passed soldiers, blinking monitors, and rows of advanced machinery humming softly in the background.

“Is that… magic?” Galahad asked, pointing at a wall-mounted screen displaying tactical maps that flickered with digital precision.

Rouge chuckled, folding her arms as she sauntered alongside them. “Not magic, kiddo. That’s technology, specifically a television. Currently it display some information.”

Shadow’s brow furrowed slightly as the white hedgehog’s question replayed in his mind. It wasn’t the inquiry itself that caught him off guard but the implications. To confuse television for magic hinted at just how vastly different their worlds must be.

“You don’t have television where you’re from?” he asked, keeping his voice steady as his sharp gaze rested on Galahad.

The boy’s reaction was immediate and telling. His ears drooped, and his hand tightened around Shadow’s gloved one as he shook his head. “No… not really,” Galahad murmured, his voice soft and tinged with sorrow.

Shadow’s lips pressed into a thin line. The response was unsurprising, but he couldn’t shake the growing concern over the inevitable culture shock Galahad would face. How much of this world would be foreign to him?

Rouge, ever perceptive, leaned forward and gave the boy an encouraging smile. “If something looks strange or new, sweetie, just ask, alright?” she said gently, her tone warm and reassuring.

Galahad nodded, but his somber expression lingered. It was clear that being reminded of his home, or perhaps the lack thereof, was a painful subject. Shadow couldn’t help but admire how composed the child seemed despite everything he had endured.

“So, Shadow,” Rouge began, breaking the tension with her usual ease, “do you happen to have a Chaos Emerald stashed somewhere? It’d save us the trouble of figuring out how to get to your place.”

Shadow shook his head. “If I did, we wouldn’t be having this conversation. I’d have teleported us by now.”

Rouge chuckled. “Figures. Guess that means public transportation?”

“Looks like it,” Shadow replied. Normally, he’d skate back to his apartment, but he doubted Galahad could handle the speeds just yet. And leaving Rouge behind wasn’t an option. He had a feeling her input would be essential in the days to come.

“That’s going to turn some heads,” Rouge said with a knowing smirk, her eyes briefly darting toward Galahad. Shadow frowned. She wasn’t wrong—their little group was bound to attract attention. The public would inevitably notice, and the media frenzy wouldn’t be far behind.

“It’s better for him to see the world now rather than later,” Shadow reasoned, his tone firm. “He needs to adapt.”

Rouge sighed but nodded in agreement. “Fine, but we’re taking the fastest route. That means the train. Just prepare yourself—we’ll be dealing with a crowd.”

Shadow nodded curtly. “Train it is.”

Once outside the military facility, Galahad’s demeanor shifted entirely. His wide, amber eyes darted in every direction, taking in the bustling cityscape with unfiltered awe. The skyline of glittering glass and steel loomed above, while the hum of life on the streets—the chatter of pedestrians, the honking of car horns, and the rhythmic clatter of trains in the distance—created a symphony of modernity.

“What’s that?” Galahad asked, pointing at a passing car.

“That’s a car,” Shadow explained. “It’s a transportation vehicle. We will not ride  one right now, though.”

The boy’s curiosity was insatiable. Every few steps, he had a new question—about the towering buildings, the blinking traffic lights, even the asphalt beneath his shoes. To Galahad, everything was a marvel. Shadow answered each question with patience, though it became increasingly apparent just how alien this world was to the young hedgehog.

“He’s got quite the curious streak,” Rouge remarked, her tone tinged with amusement as she watched Galahad eagerly point out yet another feature of the cityscape.

Shadow glanced at her and sighed. “It keeps his mind off things.” And that was something Shadow was silently grateful for.

As they approached the train station, however, the atmosphere shifted. Shadow’s sharp hearing picked up on the murmurs of bystanders. He felt the weight of their stares as their gazes flicked between him and the small hedgehog clinging to his hand. Phones appeared in several hands, their lenses subtly—sometimes not so subtly—angled in their direction.

Shadow’s frown deepened. There was little he could do to stop the whispers or the recordings. The only comfort was that Galahad didn’t seem to notice, his attention focused entirely on the glowing advertisements plastered along the station walls.

Just as they descended the stairs to the platform, Shadow spotted a familiar figure waiting near the tracks. His crimson eyes narrowed as recognition set in, and for a fleeting moment, he considered turning around and taking the bus instead.

Rouge, catching his hesitation, smirked knowingly. “Well, isn’t this about to get interesting.”

Shadow groaned inwardly, bracing himself. This day was far from over.

The moment Shadow spotted Amy Rose standing on the train platform, he felt an immediate twinge of dread. She was waiting for the same train they needed, her pink quills catching the station’s artificial lighting. As soon as she noticed them, her face lit up, and she waved energetically.

“Shadow! Rouge!” Amy called out, weaving through the small crowd to approach them. Her enthusiasm made Shadow inwardly groan. Of all the times…

“Hello,” Rouge greeted, her tone laced with amusement. Shadow shot her a frustrated look, but it only made the bat smirk. Amy’s attention, however, quickly shifted to the small hedgehog clinging tightly to Shadow’s hand.

Her emerald eyes widened, curiosity piqued. “Oh, my…” she murmured, bending slightly to get a better look at Galahad.

The boy, sensing her interest, tilted his head and studied her with equal curiosity. “Dad, who’s that?” Galahad asked, his soft voice carrying over the hum of the bustling station. He glanced up at Shadow, his amber eyes seeking an answer.

Amy’s jaw dropped. “Dad?!” she echoed, staring at Shadow with a mixture of disbelief and shock.

Shadow stiffened, his ruby gaze locking onto Amy with a warning glare that practically screamed, Do not say a word. “That’s Amy Rose,” he said curtly, his tone clipped. “And she was just leaving.”

Amy huffed, crossing her arms as she planted herself firmly in place. “No way! I haven’t seen you in ages, and now I find out you have a kid?! And you didn’t think to tell me? Who’s the mother?” Her voice was indignant, her curiosity insatiable.

Shadow bristled, irritation radiating off him in waves. Before he could snap back, Galahad spoke up.

“My mother died in childbirth,” the boy said softly, his ears drooping slightly.

Shadow’s eye twitched. He’d explicitly told Galahad not to share details about his past with strangers. Amy’s face fell, pain flashing in her eyes.

“Galahad,” Shadow said evenly, though his voice carried an edge, “I told you not to talk about the past with others.”

Realizing his mistake, the boy looked down, his grip on Shadow’s hand tightening. “S-sorry, Dad…” he murmured, his voice barely audible.

Shadow sighed, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. “It’s fine. Just… be more careful next time.”

Amy, however, was clearly overwhelmed. Tears welled in her eyes, and her voice trembled as she said, “Shadow… I’m your friend. I could’ve helped. Don’t you trust me?”

Shadow suppressed a groan. This was exactly why he tried to avoid Amy—her emotional responses were exhausting. Before he could respond, Rouge stepped in, her voice light but pointed.

“What Shadow is trying to say is that he accepts your help,” Rouge interjected, cutting off the sharp retort Shadow was about to make.

“I didn’t—” Shadow started, but Rouge silenced him with a look.

“Being a single dad is a handful, after all,” she said, her tone carrying a weight of unspoken meaning.

Shadow sighed heavily, recognizing the look Rouge gave him. It was the same one she used during critical missions—firm, calculated, and annoyingly right. He reluctantly trusted her judgment, even if he didn’t like it.

Amy, now beaming, seemed to take Rouge’s words as an open invitation. “I’d love to help!” she said, her tears forgotten as she knelt down slightly to address Galahad directly.

“So your name is Galahad, right?” she asked, her voice soft and kind.

The boy nodded shyly, pressing closer to Shadow’s side.

“Aww, he’s so adorable! And he looks so much like you, Shadow!” Amy gushed, giggling as Shadow let out an audible groan.

Thankfully, the train’s arrival provided a welcome distraction. The sleek, silver train pulled into the station with a low hum, its doors hissing open to reveal the brightly lit interior.

“Wow! What is that?!” Galahad exclaimed, his eyes wide with amazement.

“That’s a train,” Rouge explained, smiling at the boy’s excitement. “It’s a fast way to travel.”

Nearly bouncing on his heels, Galahad clung to Shadow’s arm, eager to board. “Let’s go,” Shadow said firmly, leading the way.

Unfortunately, Amy decided to follow. She took a seat beside Rouge across from Shadow and Galahad, who had claimed the window seat. Shadow sighed, knowing it was futile to argue with her persistence.

“So, what station are you headed to?” Amy asked, clearly fishing for more information.

“Venda Hill station,” Rouge replied casually, ignoring the pointed glare Shadow sent her way.

“Oh, I’m heading to Central station.” Amy said brightly. “I’m doing some shopping today.”

The train began to move, picking up speed, and Galahad let out a delighted squeak as the scenery outside blurred into motion. His innocent joy brought a rare softness to Shadow’s expression, though he quickly masked it.

Amy, however, couldn’t contain her curiosity for long. “Shadow,” she began, leaning forward, “you’re not seriously expecting me to keep this a secret, are you?”

Shadow’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “I hope you don’t plan on telling faker about Galahad,” he said flatly.

Amy crossed her arms and huffed. “Don’t call him that! Besides, you know he’ll find out eventually.”

“Later rather than sooner,” Shadow insisted, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Amy sighed but nodded reluctantly. “Fine. Have it your way.”

With that, the train fell into a comfortable quiet, save for Galahad’s excited chatter about the passing cityscape. Shadow allowed himself to relax slightly, though he made a mental note to have a serious talk with Rouge later. He wasn’t sure if he was more irritated with Amy’s meddling or Rouge’s instigation, but one thing was clear—his life had just gotten a lot more complicated.

As the train continued speeding toward Central Station, Galahad remained glued to the window, fascinated by the bustling cityscape that passed by. Skyscrapers, bridges, and clusters of moving vehicles were a completely alien sight to the young hedgehog, and he eagerly peppered Shadow with questions.

“What are those tall buildings for? Do people live in them?” Galahad asked, pointing to a cluster of glittering skyscrapers in the distance.

“Some are homes, but most are for work,” Shadow explained, his voice steady despite the flood of inquiries. “People gather there to run businesses or do their jobs.”

Galahad tilted his head. “So they’re… not castles?”

Rouge chuckled from her seat. “Castles? No way.”

Amy gave the tiny hoglet a strange look of confusion but didn’t make a remark. 

Galahad frowned thoughtfully, then pressed his face closer to the glass as they passed a crowded marketplace. “And those people? Are they warriors? They all look so… busy!”

“Those are just civilians,” Rouge answered, her tone light. “They’re just going about their day.”

Shadow watched the boy intently, noting how quickly Galahad’s awe could shift into quiet contemplation. Every so often, a flicker of sadness would cloud his amber eyes, as if the vibrant world outside reminded him of what he had lost. Shadow clenched his jaw, unsure how to comfort the child.

At last, the train began to slow, and the automated voice overhead announced their arrival at Central Station.

Amy perked up, standing and brushing imaginary dust from her dress. “Well, this is my stop,” she said cheerfully. “But it was great catching up, Shadow! And meeting you, Galahad.”

The boy turned to her, his small ears twitching. “You’re leaving?” he asked, sounding both curious and a little hesitant.

Amy smiled warmly, leaning down to meet his gaze. “I am, but I’ll see you again soon, okay? You take good care of your dad for me.”

Galahad blinked, then gave a small nod. “Okay. Bye, Miss Amy.”

Rouge smirked. “Oh, don’t worry, she’ll find any excuse to drop by,” she teased, earning a playful glare from Amy.

As the train doors opened, Amy hesitated, turning back to Shadow. “Well… good luck, Shadow. And call if you ever need anything.”

With that, she stepped off the train, disappearing into the bustling crowd of the station.

The doors closed, and the train resumed its journey toward Venda Hill Station.

Rouge leaned back in her seat, stretching her wings casually. “Well, that was surprisingly tame. I was expecting more waterworks.”

Shadow exhaled sharply, running a hand down his face. “I’m more concerned about her running her mouth to the wrong people.”

“She won’t,” Rouge assured him. “She might be dramatic, but she knows when to keep quiet. For now.”

The conversation lapsed into silence as Galahad continued to marvel at the scenery outside. He occasionally glanced at Shadow, as if seeking reassurance that everything was still all right.

When the train finally arrived at Venda Hill Station, the small platform was quiet, a stark contrast to the chaos of the city. Shadow guided Galahad off the train, Rouge following closely behind.

“This way,” Shadow said, leading them down a winding path away from the station. The air here was cooler, carrying the faint scent of pine and fresh earth. The sound of rustling leaves replaced the hum of city traffic, and Galahad visibly relaxed, his small shoulders loosening as he took in the peaceful surroundings.

As they approached Shadow’s modest home nestled at the edge of the woods, Galahad’s eyes widened in awe. The house wasn’t large, but it was sturdy and well-kept, surrounded by tall trees and bathed in the golden light of the setting sun.

“This is where you live, Dad?” Galahad asked, his voice tinged with excitement.

“Yes,” Shadow replied, pushing the door open and stepping inside. “And now, it’s where you’ll live too.”

The boy smiled faintly, his earlier sadness momentarily forgotten as he explored his new surroundings. For the first time, Shadow allowed himself a small, fleeting smile.

As Galahad stepped through the doorway, his eyes darted around the house, taking in every detail with unbridled curiosity. Shadow’s home was modest yet efficient—its layout simple and practical. The living room opened directly from the entryway, its dark wooden floors gleaming faintly under the soft glow of a ceiling light. A large black couch sat in the center, flanked by a coffee table and a neatly stacked shelf filled with books, many of them about Chaos Energy and ancient civilizations.

The walls were adorned with minimal decoration: a few abstract paintings and a single, small photograph of Shadow and Team Dark standing together in what looked like a rare moment of camaraderie. The room’s only other notable feature was a window overlooking the dense forest outside, the evening sun casting long, golden shadows across the floor.

“This is all yours?” Galahad asked, his tone caught somewhere between amazement and caution.

“Yes,” Shadow replied, stepping past him to place his keys on a small table by the door. “It’s not much, but it serves its purpose.”

Galahad released Shadow’s hand and wandered toward the living room, his small feet padding softly against the floor. He stopped by the couch, tentatively touching the fabric with his gloved fingers.

“It’s so… quiet,” he murmured.

Rouge, who had followed them inside, laughed softly as she closed the door behind her. “Well, kiddo, that’s just how your dad likes it. Peace and quiet. At least until you came along.”

Shadow shot her a brief glare but said nothing as he joined Galahad in the living room.

“Ah it’s this again… a tele-something..” Galahad said, pointing to the television mounted on the wall.

“It’s called a television,” Shadow explained. “You can use it to watch shows, movies, or the news.”

Galahad tilted his head. “How does it work?”

“I’ll show you how it works later. For now, finish looking around.” Shadow answered. 

Encouraged, Galahad ventured toward the hallway. His small figure disappeared into one of the adjacent rooms, leaving Rouge and Shadow momentarily alone in the living room.

Rouge sat down on the couch, resting her elbows on her knees as she studied Shadow. “You’re already in full ‘dad mode.’ It’s kinda adorable.”

Shadow sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Don’t start, Rouge.”

“Aww calm down, you’re handling it better than I thought you would,” she said, a playful edge to her tone. “He’s already attached to you. That says a lot.”

Shadow exhaled heavily, his expression unusually somber as he leaned against the wall. “I can’t take any real credit for it, you know.” His voice was low, thoughtful, as though the words carried more weight than he cared to admit.

Rouge tilted her head, intrigued but patient. “What do you mean?”

“His real father… is an alternate version of me from another universe. The blood tests confirm it. Biologically, he’s my child in every way that matters.” Shadow’s crimson gaze locked with hers, the revelation heavy in the air now that they finally had privacy.

Rouge’s jaw dropped slightly, her usual calm giving way to genuine surprise. “Wait, what?” she exclaimed, blinking as the implications sank in. She folded her arms.

“Well… that explains a lot,” she murmured, processing the connection.

Shadow nodded curtly. “That explains why he has Chaos energy running through his veins like me.” His tone shifted to something sharper. “The public can’t know the truth. For all intents and purposes, the cover story is that he’s my legitimate child.”

Rouge arched a brow, her curiosity far from satisfied. “And what about sending him back home? Isn’t that an option?”

Shadow’s gaze hardened, his lips pressing into a thin line. “There’s nothing to send him back to,” he said grimly. “That universe… it’s gone. Destroyed. His father sent him here to escape something called the World Eater. Whatever it is, it consumed their world. Galahad is here because he had nowhere else to go.”

Before Rouge could respond, they heard an excited exclamation from down the hall.

“Dad! What’s this room?”

Shadow and Rouge exchanged a glance before getting up and heading toward the sound of Galahad’s voice. They found him standing in what was clearly Shadow’s training room. The space was sparse, with padded flooring, a punching bag hanging in the corner, and a wall lined with various weapons—swords, staffs, and even a few firearms securely locked in a glass case.

Galahad’s eyes were wide as he approached the punching bag, giving it an experimental poke. “Is this where you train for battle?”

Shadow nodded, folding his arms. “Yes. It’s where I prepare for missions or keep my skills sharp.”

The boy’s expression turned solemn as he reached out to touch the hilt of a sword displayed on the wall. “We had training rooms too… back home.” His voice grew quieter, and Shadow immediately picked up on the sadness creeping into his tone.

Before Shadow could say anything, Rouge swooped in. “Well, you’ll have plenty of time to learn how your dad trains. Maybe he’ll even show you a few moves.”

Galahad brightened at that, looking up at Shadow expectantly. “Really? Could you teach me?”

Shadow hesitated for a moment before nodding. “In time. For now, let’s finish the tour.”

Galahad nodded eagerly, following them back into the hallway. They stopped briefly at the bathroom the office and storage closet before reaching Shadow’s bedroom.

The room was as minimalist as the rest of the house. A neatly made bed with dark gray sheets sat against one wall, flanked by a single nightstand. There was a dresser on the opposite side of the room. A closet door stood ajar, revealing rows of identical black shoes and red-striped hover skates.

“This is where we’ll sleep for now,” Shadow said simply.

Rouge, leaning casually against the doorway, smirked. “Well, I’d say this little family of yours is off to a good start.”

Shadow exhaled heavily and looked down at Galahad, who was still gazing around the room with wide eyes. For a brief moment, Shadow felt the weight of his new responsibility, but the small smile on Galahad’s face made it seem a little less daunting.

“Come on,” Shadow said quietly. “Let’s get you something to eat.”

Galahad followed him back to the kitchen, his small footsteps echoing in the quiet house. As they moved through the space together, Shadow couldn’t help but think that, despite the challenges ahead, this might just be the start of something worthwhile.

Chapter Text

The kitchen was quiet, save for the faint hum of the refrigerator and the occasional clink of utensils as Shadow worked. The soft glow of the overhead light cast a warm, almost domestic ambiance over the space. Shadow didn’t glance back as he plated the food, his movements efficient but unhurried.

Grilled salmon, a scoop of plain boiled potatoes, and a drizzle of melted butter were leftovers he had thrown together. It wasn’t exactly what anyone would call child-friendly, let alone gourmet. It was a gamble at best, but considering Galahad’s chaotic arrival in his life, Shadow figured the boy would eat anything out of sheer necessity.

When he placed the plate in front of Galahad, Rouge gave him an unimpressed look, one brow arched as she leaned against the counter.

“Really? Salmon and potatoes? Very kid-friendly,” she quipped, sarcasm dripping from her tone.

Shadow ignored her, turning his attention to Galahad, who was staring at the plate with wide, curious eyes. The hoglet tentatively picked up the fork and knife, cutting a small piece of the salmon with surprising precision. The moment he took a bite, his expression transformed.

His amber eyes lit up with awe, practically sparkling. “What is this?! It tastes so much!” he exclaimed, his voice high with delight.

He beamed, and without hesitation, began devouring the meal, his bites coming faster and faster. Shadow’s brow furrowed, and he raised a hand in caution.

“Slow down, Galahad. You’ll choke,” he warned, his tone firm but not unkind.

Galahad paused mid-bite, blinking up at Shadow. “Sorry,” he mumbled, slowing his pace but still eating with visible enthusiasm.

Rouge, who had been watching with mild amusement, gave a low whistle. “Didn’t think the kid would go nuts over something so basic,” she remarked.

Shadow shrugged, leaning against the counter with his arms crossed. “It’s grilled salmon, potatoes, and melted butter,” he explained simply to Galahad, though he was still processing the boy’s reaction.

He wasn’t sure where this meal fell on the spectrum of healthy or unhealthy for a child. Considering Galahad shared his DNA, it was unlikely the food would harm him—even if it were poisoned, their biological resilience would negate the effects. The real gamble had been whether Galahad would eat it at all, but seeing his joy, Shadow doubted the boy was a picky eater.

“Rouge, help yourself,” Shadow said, gesturing toward the containers on the counter.

Rouge blinked, stunned. Her sharp features softened momentarily as she stared at him. “You’re offering me food?”

Shadow looked away, his tone casual. “You always get cranky when you’re hungry.”

And just like that, the moment was killed. Rouge scoffed, her wings twitching in irritation. “You really know how to ruin a gesture, don’t you?”

Still, she didn’t refuse. She grabbed a plate and began serving herself, muttering something under her breath about “rude hedgehogs.” As she placed her food in the microwave, the hum of the appliance filled the room, adding to the domestic atmosphere.

Shadow remained silent, his eyes briefly flicking to Galahad, who was still savoring every bite of his meal with an earnestness that was both heartwarming and bewildering. Shadow rarely shared meals, let alone prepared them for others. It was… different.

“You really need to work on your manners,” Rouge said pointedly as she waited for her food to heat.

Shadow ignored the remark. He wasn’t used to having Rouge—or anyone else, for that matter—linger in his space like this. His home was his sanctuary, a place of peace and solitude. But with Galahad now part of his life, that quiet refuge felt like it was slipping away.

“Aren’t you going to eat?” Galahad asked suddenly, his voice cutting through Shadow’s thoughts.

Shadow glanced at him, his expression neutral. “I don’t eat often,” he replied.

Galahad tilted his head in confusion. “Why not? You need food to live.”

“I can go for long periods without eating. I only eat occasionally to avoid… discomfort.” Shadow explained.

Galahad’s face lit up with understanding. “Just like my father!” he said proudly, his tail wagging slightly.

Shadow blinked, caught off guard by the statement, but it made sense that Shadow’s counterpart would have same ability.

As Galahad resumed eating the salmon, Rouge set down her glass, a curious look creeping into her eyes. “So, Galahad,” she began, her voice casual, “why don’t you tell us more about your father?”

Galahad’s fork clattered onto his plate, his eyes lighting up with excitement. He sat up straighter, nearly toppling his stool in the process. “My father?” he exclaimed, his voice brimming with enthusiasm. “Oh, he’s amazing! The greatest knight of the Round Table!”

Shadow’s brow furrowed slightly, and Rouge arched a brow but said nothing, letting the boy continue.

“He’s fought dragons and defeated entire armies!” Galahad’s small hands waved dramatically in the air as he spoke. “There was this one time when he saved the kingdom from an invasion of shadow beasts. They came in the dead of night, but my father didn’t hesitate! He charged into battle with his sword Arondight, and drove them back into the abyss!”

Rouge exchanged a glance with Shadow, her expression teetering between amused and confused. Shadow’s frown deepened slightly, his gaze never leaving Galahad.

“And then there was the time he outwitted the Enchantress of the Black Forest!” Galahad continued, completely unaware of their reactions. “She tried to trap him in a never-ending maze, but my father’s mind is as sharp as his blade! He saw through her illusions and escaped, even got her magical staff!”

Rouge rested her chin in her hand, her wings twitching slightly. “That’s… quite the story,” she said, her tone carefully neutral. Shadow, standing near the counter, tilted his head slightly, his expression unreadable.

“Wait, there’s more!” Galahad beamed, his hands gripping the edge of the table as he leaned forward eagerly. “He’s the one who taught me that true strength isn’t just about power, but about protecting those you love.” His face softened, a small, proud smile spreading across his face. “He’s the bravest and kindest person I’ve ever known.”

For a moment, silence settled over the room. Rouge cleared her throat, breaking the tension. “Your father sounds like quite the hero, kiddo,” she said, her tone light but curious. “What’s his name?”

Galahad’s smile grew impossibly wider. “Lancelot,” he said proudly, as if the name alone carried the weight of his father’s legacy.

Both Shadow and Rouge stiffened slightly at the name, their gazes snapping to each other briefly before settling back on the boy. Shadow’s hand unconsciously tightened around the edge of the counter, though his voice remained even. “Lancelot,” he repeated, as if testing the name on his tongue.

Galahad nodded enthusiastically, completely oblivious to their reactions. “Yes! Sir Lancelot the hedgehog, the greatest knight of Camelot!”

Rouge raised a brow, leaning back slightly in her chair. “Camelot, huh?” she murmured, a faint smirk tugging at her lips, though there was a flicker of amusement in her eyes. Shadow, however, stayed silent, his gaze lingering on the boy.

The pieces were beginning to align in his mind—Galahad wasn’t just from another dimension; he was from a world that seemed to echo the legends of King Arthur. And yet, despite the absurdity of it all, neither Shadow nor Rouge had doubts. The boy’s pride and innocence were too genuine.

The kitchen’s warm ambiance dimmed as Galahad’s excitement gradually shifted to a more somber tone. Galahad’s hands rested on the table, his small fingers tracing idle patterns on the surface as he continued his tale.

“There’s only one person who ever truly defeated my father in battle,” Galahad said softly, his earlier excitement replaced by a quiet reverence. His voice carried the weight of admiration, his bright eyes distant as though recalling stories told by firelight. “The true king of Camelot. He’s the only one stronger than my father.”

Rouge leaned forward slightly, her elbow resting on the table as she studied the boy with curiosity. “The true king of Camelot?” she echoed, tilting her head. “You mean King Arthur?”

Galahad nodded, a proud smile returning to his face. “Yes! King Arthur. The rightful ruler of Camelot and wielder of Excalibur. He’s not just a king—he’s a symbol of everything good in the world. Justice, honor, and hope. My father said that serving King Arthur was the greatest honor of his life.” His voice quivered with pride, and he clasped his hands together tightly as if holding onto the memory.

Shadow stood by the counter, silent, his crimson gaze fixed on Galahad. He didn’t interrupt, though his jaw tightened as he listened, his mind swirling with questions and uncertainties about the boy’s strange, medieval-sounding world.

But then, Galahad’s expression darkened. His hands dropped to his lap, and his ears lowered as if the weight of a different memory pressed on him. “But…” he began, his voice trembling slightly, “then there is the World Eater….”

Galahad’s shoulders slumped, and his small hands clenched into fists on his lap. His breathing grew uneven, his chest rising and falling as he struggled to find the words. “It’s not just a monster… It’s a force of destruction. It consumed everything—our home, our people, our hope. And it… it killed my father.”

The room fell into a heavy silence. The warmth of the kitchen now felt stifling. Rouge’s gaze softened, her usual sass replaced by genuine concern as she glanced at Shadow. Shadow, however, remained rigid, his fists clenching at his sides.

Galahad sniffled, his small frame trembling. Tears welled up in his bright eyes and spilled down his cheeks as he choked on a sob. “He… he tried to stop it. He was so brave. But even he wasn’t enough. The World Eater… it destroyed everything! And I—” His voice broke completely as the weight of his loss overwhelmed him. “I couldn’t do anything to help him. I just ran away like he told me to.”

Shadow’s chest tightened at the boy’s words. He wasn’t the type to be openly emotional, but seeing Galahad so small, so broken, triggered something unfamiliar in him. He hesitated, unsure of what to do, before slowly walking over to the table.

“Galahad,” Shadow said quietly, his deep voice softer than usual. He crouched slightly to meet the boy’s gaze, but Galahad kept his head down, tears falling freely onto his lap. Shadow’s hand hovered awkwardly for a moment before he rested it on the boy’s quivering shoulder. “You are just a child. It wasn’t your fault.”

Galahad hiccupped through his sobs, his tiny fists rubbing at his tear-streaked face. “But I—I left him behind! I should have stayed. I should’ve fought with him!”

Shadow’s chest ached at the boy’s words. His own memories surfaced—memories of Maria, of losing people he cared about, of feeling powerless despite all his strength. He struggled to find the right words, the right actions, anything to ease the boy’s pain. “You survived,” he said finally, his voice low but firm. “That’s what he wanted. He fought so you could live.” Just like Maria sacrificed her life for Shadow… 

Rouge watched from her seat, her eyes soft as she observed Shadow’s uncharacteristic tenderness. She didn’t interject, sensing that this moment wasn’t hers to interrupt.

Galahad sniffled again, his sobs quieter now but still raw. He hesitated before suddenly leaning forward, wrapping his small arms around Shadow’s waist. The hug caught Shadow off guard, and for a moment, he froze. But then, slowly and stiffly, he returned the gesture, one hand resting awkwardly on the boy’s back.

“I’m here for you.” Shadow said softly, his voice barely audible. 

The words felt foreign, and Shadow’s expression betrayed his internal conflict—he was out of his depth, unsure if he was doing this “right.” But Galahad’s small, trembling form clinging to him grounded him in the moment. The boy’s trust, his need for comfort, was clear.

When Galahad finally pulled back, his tear-streaked face still looked fragile, but there was a flicker of warmth in his eyes as he gazed up at Shadow.

“Thank you… Dad,” he whispered, the word carrying an unmistakable weight.

Shadow stiffened still not fully used to the title but nodded nevertheless. “Finish your food, Galahad,” he said quietly. 

Galahad silently returned to his plate but the kitchen still felt heavy, the earlier warmth lingering like a fading ember. The faint smell of food remained in the air, but the weight of Galahad’s breakdown still hung over the room.The boy’s sobs had subsided, leaving only the occasional sniffle as he wiped at his face with tiny, trembling hands.

Shadow’s crimson gaze shifted to Rouge, silently pleading for help in a way only she would notice. His stiff demeanor and tense posture betrayed his discomfort. He had succeeded in calming Galahad for the moment, but the tension in the room felt like a ticking clock, one he didn’t know how to reset.

Rouge, ever perceptive, set her glass down with a soft clink and leaned forward on her elbows, her eyes twinkling with a mix of amusement and compassion. “Alright, kiddo,” she said, her voice light and cheery, cutting through the silence like a breeze. “When you’re done with your food, how about we go take a look at your new room? I bet you’ve got some ideas on what you’d like to see in there.”

Galahad blinked up at her, his teary expression brightening almost immediately. His ears perked up, and his small hands stopped fidgeting. “M-My room?” he asked, his voice soft and uncertain but tinged with excitement. “I get my own room?”

“Of course!” Rouge said with a grin, giving him a playful wink. “Every knight needs their own quarters, right? Once you finish up here, we can head upstairs and do some planning. What do you think?”

The boy’s face lit up like a spark had reignited within him. His tears were forgotten as he gasped, his small hands gripping the edge of the table. “Really? I can help plan it?!” he exclaimed, his earlier sadness replaced with an almost overwhelming eagerness.

Shadow, still crouched near the table, exhaled quietly through his nose. Though his expression didn’t change much, the faintest hint of relief softened his features. He shot Rouge a quick glance—a silent thank you—and she returned it with a subtle smirk, pleased with herself.

“Once you finish your food.” Rouge teased, leaning back in her chair.

Galahad immediately turned his attention back to his plate, shoveling bites into his mouth with such determination it almost made Rouge laugh. “I’ll finish them fast, Miss Rouge!” he said between bites. His small legs swung back and forth beneath the table, a telltale sign of his excitement.

Shadow stood up, brushing imaginary dust from his gloves as he watched the boy with a mix of quiet amusement and lingering unease. His gaze shifted briefly to Rouge again, who was finishing her own meal with much less urgency. 

Galahad’s excitement seemed to bubble over as he stuffed the last bite of potato into his mouth and pushed his empty plate toward the center of the table. “Done! Can we go now?” he asked eagerly, his bright eyes darting between Shadow and Rouge.

Rouge chuckled, finishing her drink in single sip. “Alright, alright, hold your horses, knight-in-training. Let me finish up here.” She stood, stretching her wings slightly before stacking the plates. “Shadow, you might want to prepare yourself. Decorating a room for a kid is no easy task.”

Shadow glanced at Galahad, who was practically bouncing in his seat now, and sighed. “We’ll figure it out,” he replied, his tone clipped but lacking its usual edge.

With the plates set aside, the trio left the kitchen and made their way up the narrow staircase to the office room. The office was small and cluttered, but big enough to use as a bedroom. A desk sat against the wall, piled with various files and a laptop, while a large corkboard covered in pinned notes hung above it. 

“This will be your room,” Shadow explained, gesturing to the space. “I’ll clear out all the things before moving in your stuff.” 

Galahad’s eyes roamed the room with wonder, as if it were already a grand castle chamber. “It’s perfect!” he declared, spinning around to take in every detail.

Rouge leaned against the doorway, arms crossed. “We’ll need to make it more kid-friendly. Starting with a bed, some shelves for toys and books, and a few decorations. Something fun but not too overwhelming.”

Shadow frowned slightly. “He’s not a typical child. We don’t need to fill it with nonsense.”

Rouge rolled her eyes. “It’s not nonsense; it’s comfort. Trust me, kids need a space that feels like their own. You’re new to this, so maybe let me handle the ‘kid stuff.’”

Galahad, meanwhile, was bouncing on the tips of his toes. “Can I have sword?” he asked excitedly. “And maybe a map of Camelot on the wall?”

Rouge chuckled. “A sword rack, huh? You’re serious about this knight business, aren’t you?”

Shadow’s expression softened slightly as he watched Galahad’s enthusiasm. “We’ll make it work,” he said finally, his voice quieter. “Whatever you need.”

Rouge grinned. “Now you’re getting it. Alright, Galahad, let’s plan out the perfect knight’s quarters!”

The small office room was beginning to feel more alive as Rouge and Galahad discussed plans for the space. Galahad’s eager voice echoed off the walls, and Rouge posture relaxed as she entertained the boy’s enthusiastic suggestions. Galahad darted from one corner of the room to another, pointing out where he envisioned a sword rack or a knight’s banner.

Shadow stood near the doorway, arms crossed, his gaze flicking between the two. The boy’s excitement was infectious, though Shadow kept his expression neutral. Just as he was about to step in and offer input, his wrist communicator emitted a sharp beep, drawing his attention.

He tapped it, activating the device. “What is it?” he asked curtly, already suspecting Commander Abraham’s on the other end.

“Shadow,” the commander’s tone was firm, though not overly harsh. “Where are you, and do you have the child with you?”

Shadow stepped out of the room, closing the door partway behind him. “I brought him home,” he said bluntly. “He’s here with me.”

There was a moment of silence on the line before Abraham’s sigh crackled through. “You didn’t think to inform me before you left the base with the child?”

“I didn’t think it was necessary,” Shadow replied, his voice calm but edged with defiance. “I made the decision. It’s done.”

The commander muttered something under his breath before speaking again. “You act impulsively, as always. But this isn’t your worst move, so I’ll let it slide. For now.” There was a pause before he continued, “Are you planning to return to the base with the boy tonight? Or is he staying with you?”

Shadow glanced back at the door. He could still hear Galahad’s excited voice from inside. “He’s staying here. I’ve already arranged where he’ll sleep.”

Abraham’s voice carried a hint of skepticism. “You’ve ‘arranged’ it, have you? Care to elaborate?”

Shadow’s tone remained firm. “No.”

The commander let out another sigh but didn’t press further. “Fine. Moving on—have you managed to learn anything new from him? Specifically about the World Eater?”

Shadow’s jaw tightened. He didn’t enjoy talking about this, especially when it involved Galahad’s trauma. “No. Nothing new. The rest of what he’s shared isn’t relevant.”

Abraham was silent for a moment, his tone shifting to one of concern. “This World Eater… If it’s as destructive as the boy says, we need to understand it. If there’s even a chance it could come to our world—”

“I know the risks,” Shadow interrupted, his voice cold. “But I’m not going to force him to relive the worst day of his life.”

The commander’s tone hardened slightly. “This isn’t just about him, Shadow. It’s about everyone. If there’s a way to prevent a threat like this, we need the information. You need to find a way to get him to talk.”

Shadow clenched his fists, his gaze narrowing. The idea of pushing Galahad to talk about the World Eater made his stomach twist, but he knew the commander wouldn’t back down. “Fine,” he said through gritted teeth. “I’ll try.”

Satisfied, Abraham replied, “Good. Keep me updated. Dismissed.”

The line went dead, and Shadow exhaled slowly, his irritation evident in the way he ran a hand through his quills. He turned and pushed the door open, stepping back into the room—and froze.

Rouge was perched in his chair, her legs crossed, leaning casually over his private computer. Galahad stood beside her, eagerly pointing at the screen as they browsed through various websites. The boy’s face was lit up with excitement as he jabbed a finger toward a particularly ornate piece of furniture.

“What is this?” Shadow demanded, his voice low and sharp.

Rouge didn’t even flinch. She turned her head to smirk at him. “What does it look like? We’re picking out furniture for Galahad’s room.”

Shadow’s eyes narrowed. “How did you even get into my computer?”

Rouge leaned back, feigning nonchalance. “Oh, I hacked it. Took me all of five seconds.”

Shadow’s glare deepened, and Rouge held up her hands in mock surrender. “Alright, fine. Your password is terrible. You might as well have left the door wide open.”

Shadow’s frown didn’t waver, but he didn’t press the issue. Galahad’s excitement was too distracting. The boy practically bounced on his heels as he pointed at the screen. “Look, Dad! This bed looks just like a knight’s! It even has a castle on the headboard!”

Shadow stepped closer, eyeing the screen. The furniture Galahad had picked out was medieval styled. A four-poster bed with faux stone columns, a toy chest shaped like a treasure box, and even a miniature throne chair. Shadow’s eyes flicked to the prices, and his frown deepened.

“These are overpriced,” he said bluntly.

Galahad’s ears drooped slightly, and his expression faltered. “But… it looks just like they did in Camelot,” he said softly, his voice tinged with disappointment.

Shadow hesitated. He wasn’t a fan of frivolous spending, even if money wasn’t an issue. But seeing Galahad’s excitement deflate so quickly struck a chord. The boy’s joy, however fleeting, was something Shadow couldn’t bring himself to crush.

Rouge leaned back in the chair, watching the exchange with a knowing smile. “What’s the matter, Shadow? Can’t handle spending a little for your kid’s happiness?”

Shadow shot her a glare but didn’t respond. Instead, he turned his attention back to the screen, his expression softening slightly as Galahad looked up at him with hopeful eyes. “Alright, fine,” Shadow said finally, his tone gruff but less dismissive. “Let’s just not make it a common practice.”

Galahad’s face lit up again, and he beamed up at Shadow. “Really? Thank you, Dad!” he said, throwing his small arms around Shadow’s leg in a quick hug.

Shadow stiffened slightly, caught off guard, but didn’t push him away. Rouge chuckled, leaning her chin on her hand as she watched. “Looks like the ultimate lifeform has a soft spot after all,” she teased.

Shadow ignored her, his focus on Galahad’s renewed excitement. Even if he didn’t fully understand this parenting thing, he couldn’t deny the warmth that came with the boy’s happiness.

Chapter Text

Shadow stood in the doorway of the office, staring blankly at his wrist communicator where the receipt glared back at him—a substantial amount of rings drained from his account. The order for Galahad’s medieval-inspired furniture was finalized, and his wallet felt the impact. He exhaled sharply through his nose, muttering, “This better be worth it.”

Rouge smirked smugly at him. “Aw, what’s the matter, big guy? Feeling a little sting in your savings? You know you’d spend double if it made that kid happy.”

Shadow’s crimson eyes narrowed, but he didn’t dignify her comment with a response. Instead, he turned to Galahad, who was practically bouncing on his toes with excitement. “Your furniture will arrive soon,” Shadow said, his tone as stoic as ever. “Until then, you’ll have to make do with what we have.”

Galahad beamed up at him, his face glowing with pure joy. “Thank you, Dad! It’s going to be just like Camelot!” he exclaimed, throwing his arms around Shadow’s leg for a quick hug.

Shadow stiffened slightly at the contact but didn’t push him away. Instead, he gave a quiet nod, his usual sharp demeanor softened ever so slightly. “Come on,” he said, motioning toward the hallway. “There’s something else I need to show you.”

The three of them moved into the cozy living room. The warm glow of the lamps illuminated the space, casting soft shadows over the simple yet comfortable furniture. Outside, the sun had dipped below the horizon, leaving the room bathed in the deep blues of early evening. Shadow walked over to the TV, its sleek, modern frame standing in stark contrast to the rest of the house. He gestured toward it and looked down at Galahad, who was staring at the device with wide, curious eyes.

“This,” Shadow began holding up the tv controller. “is the control of the television. When you press on these buttons you can activate it.”

Galahad tilted his head, his ears twitching. 

Shadow pressed a few buttons on the remote, and the screen flickered to life. Bright colors filled the room as a cheerful, animated children’s show appeared. The characters bounced across the screen, singing a catchy tune. Galahad gasped loudly, his little hands reaching out to touch the glowing surface.

“Don’t poke the screen,” Shadow said sharply, his tone firm but not harsh. “You’ll get it dirty. And you could damage it.”

Galahad immediately pulled his hands back, looking sheepish. “Sorry, Dad,” he murmured, his ears drooping slightly.

Shadow sighed, his gaze softening, he walked over to the couch and sat down. “Just watch it from here,” he said, patting the spot on the couch beside him.

Galahad climbed up eagerly, settling in next to Shadow and instinctively curling up against his side. Shadow tensed at first, unused to the closeness, but as the boy’s small form pressed against him, he found himself unable to push him away. Instead, he resigned to his fate, leaning back against the couch with a stoic expression.

Rouge, settled down on a sofa across the room, watched the scene unfold with delight. She propped her chin on her hand, her lips curling into an amused grin. “You’re a natural, Shadow,” she teased.

Shadow shot her a sharp glare, but it only made her laugh softly. “What?” she said innocently. “It’s adorable.”

“Keep your comments to yourself,” Shadow muttered, his gaze flicking back to the screen. Galahad was completely engrossed in the show, his little hands clutching Shadow’s arm as he giggled at the antics on screen.

Rouge smirked, reaching into her pocket and pulling out her phone. “Oh, don’t mind me,” she said casually as she snapped a picture of the two. The soft click of the camera made Shadow’s ears twitch.

“Rouge,” Shadow growled, his voice low and warning. “Delete it.”

“Make me,” she replied with a mischievous grin, holding the phone close to herself protectively.

Shadow’s glare deepened, but he didn’t move. He couldn’t bring himself to leave Galahad’s side, not with the boy so comfortably nestled against him. “You’re insufferable,” he muttered, his tone laced with irritation.

Rouge’s grin widened. “And you’re predictable. Face it, Shadow—you secretly love this.”

Shadow didn’t respond, but the glare he sent her spoke volumes. Still, he made no effort to retrieve the phone, much to Rouge’s satisfaction. She leaned back with a victorious smile, clearly enjoying her win.

The room grew quieter as the evening wore on, the only sound coming from the cheerful chatter of the TV. Outside the window, the sky had turned a deep navy, stars beginning to dot the horizon. Rouge glanced at the clock on the wall and raised an eyebrow. “It’s getting late,” she said, her voice cutting through the silence. 

“It’s almost seven,” she said, breaking the silence, then got up. “That’s bedtime for a kid his age. And it’s about time for me to head out.”

Galahad’s ears perked up, and he looked at Rouge with wide eyes. “Do you have to go?” he asked, his tone tinged with disappointment.

Rouge smiled warmly “I’ll be back tomorrow, kiddo.”

Galahad’s disappointment quickly turned into a smile. He hopped off the couch and ran to her, wrapping his small arms around her waist. “Promise?” he asked, looking up at her with hopeful eyes.

“Promise,” Rouge said with a wink, ruffling his quills. “Good night, Galahad. And good luck, Shadow.”

Shadow gave her a curt nod as she walked toward the door, her usual confident stride carrying her out into the night. Galahad waved enthusiastically until the door closed behind her. Then, he turned to Shadow, his eyes already drooping with sleepiness.

“Come on,” Shadow said softly, guiding the boy toward the stairs. “Time for bed.”

The soft padding of Galahad’s feet against the wooden floor was accompanied by Shadow’s heavier, deliberate steps as they climbed the stairs. The warm glow of the hallway lights illuminated the way, and Galahad’s little hand clung tightly to Shadow’s glove.

As they reached the top, Galahad looked up curiously when Shadow gently steered him toward the bathroom instead of his bedroom. “Dad? I thought it was bedtime,” Galahad asked, tilting his head.

“It is,” Shadow said evenly, opening the bathroom door and flipping on the light. The bathroom was simple and tidy, with clean white tiles and a mirror above the sink. “But first, you need to brush your teeth.”

Galahad blinked up at him in confusion. “Brush my teeth? I’ve never done that before.”

Shadow gave him a brief, quizzical glance but nodded in understanding. “It’s for hygiene,” he explained. “It’s a common practice here. Clean teeth mean a healthier mouth.”

Galahad furrowed his brow but nodded, trusting Shadow’s judgment. Shadow moved to the cabinet above the sink, retrieving a new toothbrush from a sealed package. He opened it with ease, then reached for the toothpaste, squeezing a small amount onto the bristles. The minty aroma filled the air, sharp and slightly sweet.

Shadow then reached for a small stool tucked neatly beside the cabinet, unfolding it and setting it firmly in front of the sink. He gestured for Galahad to stand on it.

“Up here,” he instructed.

Galahad obediently climbed onto the stool, his small frame now level with the sink. Shadow stood behind him, his reflection in the mirror looking down at the curious hoglet.

“Open your mouth,” Shadow instructed, holding the toothbrush poised. “And don’t swallow the toothpaste. It’s only for cleaning.”

Galahad hesitated, his small mouth opening slightly. Shadow gently guided the toothbrush into the boy’s mouth, moving it across his teeth with deliberate strokes. The moment the taste of the toothpaste hit, Galahad’s face scrunched up in disgust.

“Ugh! It’s so strong!” he exclaimed, pulling back slightly.

Shadow sighed, steadying the boy. “It’s meant to clean your teeth, not to eat. I’ll get a better flavor for you tomorrow.”

The brushing continued, though it was a struggle for both of them. Galahad kept squirming, making small sounds of protest as the toothbrush moved. Shadow, while patient, found the task unexpectedly tedious. He worked to brush each tooth thoroughly despite Galahad’s wriggling and the occasional complaint.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Shadow pulled the toothbrush away. “Spit,” he instructed, turning on the tap and letting the water run.

Galahad leaned forward and spat into the sink, then cupped his hands under the water to rinse his mouth. He straightened up, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, and gave Shadow a small, tired smile. “Am I done now?”

Shadow inspected the results, giving a satisfied nod. “For now. You’ll need to do this every morning and night.”

Galahad groaned, clearly not thrilled with the idea, but he nodded.

Shadow crossed his arms, his gaze softening slightly. “Do you need to use the toilet before bed?”

Galahad nodded quickly.“Miss Rouge showed me how to use it earlier!”

Shadow raised a brow, silently thankful that Rouge had taken care of that lesson. “Good. You know what to do, then.”

He stepped out of the bathroom, closing the door behind him to give the boy privacy. Leaning against the wall just outside, he folded his arms, his mind briefly drifting to how much his life had changed in such a short time. He could hear the faint sounds of Galahad moving around inside, and for once, Shadow felt… content, even if he didn’t fully understand why.

Shadow watched as Galahad emerged from the bathroom, his small hands rubbing his eyes sleepily. The house was quiet, with only the faint hum of the air vents breaking the stillness. Shadow gestured for the boy to follow him, leading the way down the dim hallway toward his bedroom.

The bedroom, much like the rest of the house, was simple and utilitarian. A large, neatly made bed dominated the room, flanked by a single nightstand with a lamp and an alarm clock. The faint glow of the clock’s red digits illuminated the otherwise dark space. Shadow stepped inside, gesturing toward the bed.

“Get in,” he said simply.

Galahad kicked off his shoes, then carefully removed his gloves, placing them neatly on the nightstand . He then obediently climbed onto the bed, his small form barely making a dent in the mattress. Wriggling under the covers, he looked up at Shadow with bright, expectant eyes, his face alight with excitement.

Shadow, unaware of what Galahad was waiting for, crossed the room and flipped off the lamp, plunging the room into a soft twilight from the hallway light. He began heading for the door, intending to let the child fall asleep on his own.

“Wait!” Galahad’s startled cry froze Shadow in his tracks.

Shadow turned, his crimson eyes meeting Galahad’s confused and slightly hurt expression. “What’s wrong?”

“Where are you going?” Galahad asked, his voice trembling slightly.

Shadow frowned. “I’m not going to bed yet. It’s too early for me.”

Galahad sat up, clutching the edge of the blanket. “But… Father always stayed with me until I fell asleep.” His voice was quiet, almost pleading, as if the very idea of being left alone filled him with dread.

Shadow’s expression softened for a moment before he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Fine,” he muttered, kicking off his shoes.

The small hedgehog’s face lit up with joy as he scooted to make room for Shadow. Shadow climbed into the bed reluctantly, lying stiffly on his back as Galahad nestled up against him. The boy’s tiny quills pressed against Shadow’s side, a faint tickling sensation that made Shadow shift uncomfortably.

Galahad sighed contentedly, his little body radiating warmth. Shadow stared at the ceiling, his thoughts a chaotic mix of confusion and resignation. He wasn’t used to this kind of closeness, but he couldn’t deny that it felt… grounding in a way.

After a few moments of silence, Galahad looked up at him. “Are you going to tell me a goodnight story?”

Shadow blinked, caught off guard. “I don’t know how to tell a goodnight story,” he admitted, his tone blunt but not dismissive.

“That’s okay!” Galahad said brightly. “I can tell you one! Father said I’m really good at it.” Without waiting for Shadow to respond, the young hedgehog snuggled closer, his voice dropping into an ominous whisper as he began his tale.

“There was once a very evil being called Mephiles the Dark,” Galahad started, his tone heavy with foreboding. “He wasn’t like anyone or anything else. Mephiles wasn’t just evil—he was evil. He was made of hatred and destruction, and everywhere he went, he left nothing but ruin behind.”

Galahad’s eyes widened as he leaned forward, as though reliving the story in vivid detail. “Mephiles didn’t just destroy buildings and lands; he destroyed people too. Those that survived were filled with darkness in their hearts, all their joy and happiness removed. Only evil and hatred remained. Some would say it was worse to survive an encounter with Mephiles.”

Shadow, who had been reclining slightly, straightened, his crimson eyes narrowing. Galahad was fully immersed in the tale. 

“He didn’t just appear and fight,” Galahad continued. “He would creep into places—quietly, like a shadow spreading over the ground. People wouldn’t even know he was there until it was too late. Suddenly, their homes, their towns… everything would be up in flames. And the people who saw him said he was terrifying.”

Galahad’s voice dropped even lower, his expression darkening. “He didn’t look like anything alive. Like a shadow that could move on its own, and his edges weren’t solid. They rippled and shifted, like he wasn’t all there. But his eyes—” He paused dramatically, glancing up at Shadow, who was now listening intently. “His eyes glowed. Bright, piercing, like burning green fire in the darkness. If he looked at you, it felt like his hate was staring straight into your soul.”

Shadow said nothing, his gaze steady but unreadable. Galahad pressed on, his voice a mix of fear and excitement. “Everyone was afraid of him. Even the bravest knights wouldn’t face him. No one could. His power was too much, and his darkness spread everywhere. They said he wanted to destroy the world—not just because he could, but because he wanted everyone to suffer.”

Galahad took a deep breath, his tone softening just slightly. “But then, someone stood up to him. The true King Arthur. He wasn’t just a king; he was a hero. With his knights and a sword made of pure light, he faced Mephiles head-on. It was the scariest battle ever. The darkness almost won, but King Arthur’s light was stronger. He defeated Mephiles with one final blow.”

A small smile crept onto Galahad’s face as he finished, his voice now carrying hope. “With peace restored the world started to heal. The skies became clear, and people could laugh again.”

Galahad looked up at Shadow, his smile wide. “Father said it’s to remind me that even the worst kind of evil can be defeated, no matter how scary or strong it is.”

Shadow, who had been silent throughout the tale, let out a slow breath. “That’s… quite the story,” he muttered, his deep voice low. “A little dark for bedtime, don’t you think?”

Galahad shook his head vigorously. “It’s not too dark! It has a happy ending!”

Shadow leaned back against the wall, shaking his head. “Sure. I’ll give you that.”

Galahad grinned and nestled closer, his energy beginning to wane.

Shadow stiffened at the unexpected gesture, his body tense and unsure how to respond. Eventually, he let out a resigned sigh, relaxing slightly. “Just go to sleep,” he muttered, his voice softer than usual.

Galahad nodded, his eyelids growing heavy. Within minutes, his breathing evened out, and he was fast asleep, still nestled against Shadow’s side.

Shadow stared at the ceiling, his thoughts swirling. This was all so new, so different from anything he’d ever experienced. But as the boy’s quiet breaths filled the room, Shadow found himself strangely at peace. For now, he decided, he would simply take things one step at a time.

Despite saying it was too early for him, Shadow fell asleep as well.

Hours later, Shadow stirred as he felt small movements beside him. Groggily, he opened his eyes, the faint morning light filtering through the curtains of his bedroom. His gaze drifted downward, and he saw Galahad snuggled up close to him, his tiny body pressed against Shadow’s side. The child’s little quills were a ruffled mess, sticking out at odd angles from a restless night.

Shadow blinked, his crimson eyes narrowing slightly in disbelief.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to this,” he thought with a sigh. For all his stoicism, he couldn’t entirely ignore the warmth radiating from the young hedgehog curled up beside him.

Turning his head slightly, Shadow spotted the digital clock on the nightstand. It read 7:23 AM. His brow furrowed in surprise. He rarely slept so long, especially considering how early he’d gone to bed. A soft grumble escaped him as he sat up slowly, trying not to jostle Galahad too much.

Despite his care, the small hedgehog stirred, blinking his sleepy eyes open. Galahad sat up groggily, stretching his arms and letting out a tiny yawn. His quills stuck out even more prominently now, looking like an unruly puff of spikes.

“Morning,” Shadow greeted gruffly, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Morning,” Galahad mumbled, his voice thick with sleep as he rubbed his eyes. He slid off the bed and began fumbling to put on his gloves and shoes, his small hands clumsily fastening the straps.

Shadow watched for a moment before getting up himself, pulling on his skates with practiced ease. As he stood, he glanced down at Galahad’s disheveled quills and sighed. “We’ll need to fix your quills after breakfast,” he muttered, already mentally preparing for the task.

Galahad nodded sleepily, clearly not understanding the effort that would entail.

“First, breakfast,” Shadow said, leading the way out of the room.

The house was quiet, the faint hum of the air conditioning the only sound as they walked to the kitchen. The morning sunlight streamed through the blinds, casting long, golden streaks across the floor. Shadow opened a cabinet, grabbing a loaf of bread, while Galahad stood nearby, watching him intently.

Shadow made two simple sandwiches, handing one to Galahad. The boy took it eagerly, sitting at the small kitchen table and munching happily. Shadow sat opposite him, eating his own meal in silence.

As they finished, a knock came at the front door, echoing through the quiet house. Shadow frowned, standing up to answer it.

When he opened the door, Rouge stood there, her hands on her hips and a wide grin spreading across her face. Her sharp eyes immediately found Galahad, who was peeking out from behind the kitchen door.

“Well, good morning, sunshine,” Rouge teased as she stepped inside, her gaze lingering on the small hedgehog. “Don’t you look adorable?”

Galahad smiled shyly, stepping forward slightly as Rouge approached. Her delighted expression softened as she crouched to his level. “Did you sleep well, sweetie?”

“Yes, Miss Rouge,” Galahad said, his voice still carrying traces of sleepiness but brightening under her attention.

Shadow closed the door behind her with a sigh, already bracing himself for whatever mischief she had planned for the day. Rouge straightened, flashing him a knowing smile.

“Looks like someone’s settling into parenthood,” she quipped, her eyes sparkling with amusement.

Shadow shot her a flat look. “It’s too early for this,” he growled, though it lacked true bite.

Rouge merely laughed, ruffling Galahad’s messy quills as she passed him. “Well, don’t worry, Shadow. I’m here to make sure everything stays on track.”

Shadow groaned inwardly, but a faint smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth as Galahad giggled, already drawn to Rouge’s warm energy.

Shadow followed the bat who settled herself comfortably in a chair in the kitchen, her smirk as sharp as ever. “So,” he began with a sigh, his crimson eyes narrowing. “What exactly do you have planned for today?”

Rouge leaned back, tapping a finger to her chin as if she hadn’t already decided. “Well, you and Galahad will be doing some shopping.”

Shadow’s brow twitched in irritation. “Shopping? Didn’t I just spend a small fortune on furniture for his room? What else could he possibly need?” 

Rouge laughed, her voice light and teasing. “Furniture’s not everything, Shadow. You didn’t buy any toys or personal items. Just furniture. You want the kid to have a boring, empty room?”

Shadow exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “I thought you were handling that. Isn’t that why you’re here?”

Rouge shrugged, grinning knowingly. “Sure, I could do it, but this is a great way for you two to bond. Besides, how else will you know what he actually likes?”

Shadow pinched the bridge of his nose, already feeling the stress building. “Fine,” he muttered. He knew she had a point. Galahad needed toys, and it wasn’t like Shadow could avoid the task forever.

As expected, Galahad’s ears perked up at the mention of toys. His eyes widened, and a bright smile spread across his face. “We’re going to buy toys? Really?!”

Shadow raised a hand to calm him down. “Not so fast,” he said firmly. “We’re not going anywhere until we’ve taken care of your messy quills and brushed your teeth.”

Galahad’s excitement dimmed, replaced by a dramatic whine. “But I want to go now!”

Shadow gave him a pointed look and gestured toward the bathroom. “You’ll be waiting a lot longer if you don’t move. Let’s finish up, and then we can leave.”

Galahad sighed but relented, dragging his feet as he followed Shadow to the bathroom. Brushing the teeth went a lot smoother this time. 

“Remember, don’t swallow the toothpaste,” Shadow reminded.

Galahad wrinkled his nose at the taste but obediently nodded. When they were done, he spat into the sink and rinsed his mouth.

Shadow stepped aside to brush his own teeth, keeping an eye on Galahad as he explored the bathroom with curious glances. Once he finished, Shadow reached into a lower cabinet, pulling out a quill brush.

“What’s that?” Galahad asked, his voice filled with wonder.

“It’s a quill brush,” Shadow explained, holding it up. “It’s made for brushing quills, so they don’t get tangled or messy.”

Galahad’s eyes widened in amazement. “I’ve never seen one of those before!”

Shadow sighed, stepping closer. “Hold still. This is… new for me too.”

Shadow began brushing, carefully untangling the child’s ruffled quills. Galahad squirmed a little, clearly enjoying the sensation, but his excited movements made Shadow’s job more challenging. Shadow worked methodically, learning the differences in Galahad’s quills compared to his own.

From the doorway, Rouge leaned casually against the frame, her sharp eyes gleaming with interest. She rested her chin in her hand, watching the interaction with open amusement. “I’ve gotta say, I didn’t think I’d ever see you doing something so domestic, Shadow. It’s fascinating.”

Shadow shot her a withering glare but didn’t stop. “If you’re not going to help, at least don’t distract me.”

“Oh, I’m helping,” Rouge said with a grin. “I’m providing moral support. And entertainment.”

Shadow ignored her, focusing on Galahad’s quills. Despite his initial awkwardness, he started getting the hang of it, gently smoothing down the last of the spikes.

“There,” he said finally, stepping back. “All done.”

Galahad turned to the mirror, admiring his now-neat quills with a bright smile. “It looks great! Thanks, Dad!”

Shadow felt a faint warmth at the casual use of “Dad”. 

Shadow then turned his attention to his own quills, brushing through them with practiced efficiency. It didn’t take long—his quills were far less messy than Galahad’s had been. As he finished, he caught Rouge watching him intently, her expression a mix of amusement and disbelief, as if she still couldn’t wrap her head around what she’d just witnessed.

Placing the quill brush back in its spot, Shadow straightened and exited the bathroom, Galahad trailing closely behind him.

“Let’s go,” Shadow said, shooting Rouge a pointed look. “If you’re done being entertained, we have shopping to do.”

Rouge chuckled, following them out. “You’re doing great, Shadow. I’ll make a parent out of you yet.”

Shadow rolled his eyes but didn’t argue. Being a parent was harder than he’d imagined, but for Galahad’s sake, he was determined to figure it out.

The walk to the train station was peaceful, the quiet hum of the countryside enveloping the trio. Galahad trotted alongside Shadow, his small legs moving in quick bursts to keep up with Shadow’s long, steady strides. His curious gaze darted to every sight around them—the rustling leaves, the occasional chirp of a bird, even the faint sound of a distant tractor.

Rouge followed a few steps behind, her wings folded neatly against her back as she strolled with an air of ease. She hummed softly to herself, occasionally tossing a glance at Galahad’s antics with a smirk.

As they approached the small station, the sound of faint announcements crackled over a loudspeaker. The station itself was quaint, with wooden beams supporting a weathered roof and flower boxes overflowing with marigolds and petunias decorating the edges of the platform. A clock hung above the ticket booth, its hands moving with a slight tick, marking the time as the train’s faint rumble grew louder in the distance.

Once the train arrived with a hiss of steam and a metallic squeal of brakes, the trio boarded with ease. They found seats near a wide window, where Galahad immediately pressed his hands and nose against the glass, leaving faint smudges as he marveled at the world outside.

The train’s rhythmic chugging filled the cabin as the lush greenery of the countryside gave way to the first hints of city life—winding roads, tall buildings, and flickers of bustling activity.

Shadow sat beside him, arms crossed and face impassive, though his eyes occasionally flicked to Galahad’s delighted expression. Across from them, Rouge lounged in her seat, one leg crossed over the other as she regarded Shadow with a sly look.

“Shadow,” she began, her voice breaking the comfortable silence, “do you even know where the toy store Kiddie Kingdom is?”

He snorted, rolling his eyes. “Why would I? It’s not like I’ve ever needed to know.”

Rouge’s smirk widened. “Exactly what I thought. It’s in the main shopping district—about a ten-minute walk from the central station. Head east down Grand Avenue, then take a right onto Starling Street. Big, colorful building—you can’t miss it.”

Shadow raised an eyebrow. “If you already know where it is, why not just show us instead of rattling off directions?”

“Because,” she said with a grin, “I’ve got my own errand to run. I’m heading to the bookstore nearby while you and Galahad tackle the toy store. It’s called bonding, Shadow. You might want to give it a shot.”

Shadow exhaled sharply, clearly unimpressed but resigned to the plan. “Fine,” he muttered.

By the time the train pulled into the central station, the city was in full swing. The platform was bustling with people—business professionals rushing with briefcases, families wrangling children, and street performers setting up their instruments in hopes of earning a few coins. Rouge waved at them as she headed toward the bookstore, calling back, “Have fun, boys! Don’t let Galahad buy the whole store!”

Shadow watched her go with a flat expression, then glanced down at Galahad. The young hedgehog instinctively reached up to hold Shadow’s hand, his wide eyes scanning the crowd nervously. Shadow hesitated briefly but allowed it, gripping Galahad’s hand firmly as they stepped out into the busy streets.

The city was alive with motion and noise. Cars honked as they navigated the traffic, and the murmur of conversations mixed with the hum of air conditioning units from nearby buildings. They passed upscale boutiques with polished glass windows, lively cafes with patrons seated at outdoor tables, and a bakery that filled the air with the enticing aroma of fresh bread.

As they turned onto Starling Street, Galahad’s steps quickened in anticipation, his grip tightening on Shadow’s hand. Finally, they reached their destination.

Kiddie Kingdom was impossible to miss. The building towered over the surrounding shops, painted in a vibrant palette of reds, yellows, and blues. Oversized toy replicas—a teddy bear, a racecar, and even a miniature rocket—adorned the facade, making the store look like it had been plucked straight out of a child’s dream. A cheerful sign spelled out “Kiddie Kingdom” in bubbly, colorful letters, topped with a cartoon crown.

Galahad’s jaw dropped, his eyes sparkling with awe as he took in the sight. “It’s huge!” he exclaimed, his voice filled with wonder.

Shadow, on the other hand, felt completely out of place. The vibrancy of the store clashed with his dark, brooding demeanor, and the curious stares of passersby only added to his discomfort. He sighed and gestured toward the entrance. “Alright, kid. Go in and take a look. Pick something you like—but nothing too big or expensive.”

Galahad squealed with delight and darted through the doors, his excitement palpable. Inside, the store was a kaleidoscope of colors. Shelves crammed with toys stretched toward the ceiling, and bright banners hung from above, declaring sales on everything from action figures to board games. Cheerful music played over the speakers, mingling with the laughter of children exploring the aisles.

Shadow followed at a measured pace, his arms crossed as he scanned the area. Galahad darted from aisle to aisle, picking up toys only to put them back as he struggled to decide. He paused in front of model cars, then dashed to building blocks, and finally stopped at a display of stuffed toys. 

Suddenly, Galahad let out a gasp of excitement. Shadow turned just in time to see him clutching something tightly in his arms, his back turned to the older hedgehog.

“What’d you find?” Shadow asked, approaching.

Galahad spun around, his smile stretching from ear to ear as he held up a plush toy. It was a bright blue Sonic, its stitched smile cheerful and inviting.

“I want this one!” Galahad declared, hugging it tightly.

Chapter Text

Shadow’s crimson eyes were locked on the offending item in Galahad’s arms: a Sonic plushie.

Out of all the toys in the entire store, the child had to pick that.

Shadow’s body tensed. His fists clenched tightly at his sides, and he drew a slow breath, trying to keep his expression neutral. It wasn’t working. Frustration simmered under the surface, threatening to boil over.

Meanwhile, Galahad was practically glowing with joy. He hugged the plushie to his small chest, his eyes sparkling with pure delight as though he’d found a priceless treasure. The white hedgehog radiated pride, grinning up at Shadow with an innocence that was almost disarming.

“Why, Galahad?” Shadow asked, his voice heavy with barely restrained exasperation. He forced himself to sound more tired than angry, knowing his true feelings will crush the boy’s happiness.

Galahad blinked up at him, tilting his head in confusion. “Because it’s the true King Arthur!” he exclaimed, his small voice brimming with excitement. “He looks just like how Father described him! He’s just missing the gauntlet and Caliburn…”

The words hit Shadow like a slap. His breath caught, and for a moment, the chaos of the store faded into the background. Of course. Of course, King Arthur is Sonic’s counterpart. 

Shadow’s mind raced, piecing together memories of Galahad’s earlier words. “My father said that serving King Arthur was the greatest honor of his life,” the boy had once said. A chill ran down Shadow’s spine. The idea of serving Sonic in any capacity felt utterly alien and wrong to him, yet here was Galahad, staring at the plushie as if it were a sacred relic.

“Galahad,” Shadow began, trying his best to stay calm, “I will literally buy every single toy in this store if you don’t choose… that.” His voice betrayed a hint of disgust, despite his best efforts to mask it.

The sparkle in Galahad’s amber eyes dimmed, and his ears drooped. The hurt expression on his face sent an unexpected pang through Shadow’s chest. “B-but…” Galahad stammered, looking down at the plushie. His voice wavered, just shy of tears. “I want this one… Is it expensive?”

The crack in his voice was like a dagger. Shadow felt his resolve falter, guilt creeping in. “N-no, that’s not it…” Shadow tried to explain, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s just… his name is Sonic here.”

Galahad blinked, his expression shifting to one of confusion before narrowing into frustration. “Then it’s the same!” he huffed, stomping a tiny foot on the floor. “Sonic was his first name! It was changed when he was found worthy of Caliburn. He earned the name Arthur when he was crowned the true King of Camelot!” The child clutched the plushie tighter as if daring Shadow to take it from him.

Shadow pinched the bridge of his nose, exhaling sharply. Of course Sonic’s counterpart would have such backstory, just to make things worse for him. It felt like every version of Sonic across dimensions existed solely to torment him.

Before Shadow could respond, Galahad’s eyes lit up, and with a delighted squeal, he bolted across the store, still clutching the Sonic plushie.

“Wait, Galahad!” Shadow called, his voice laced with irritation. 

Shadow followed, only to find Galahad in the middle of an entire section dedicated to Sonic merchandise. The child’s excitement was palpable as he pointed to item after item, his small hands grabbing at anything he could reach.

“I want this too!” Galahad cried, holding up a plastic figure of Sonic. “And this!” He pointed to a Sonic-themed race car, his amber eyes sparkling with joy.

Shadow grimaced, his patience wearing thin. “Galahad,” he said firmly, “I told you to wait.”

The tone made Galahad flinch. His ears drooped again, and he looked down, guilt written all over his small face. “S-sorry, Dad…” he murmured, still hugging the plushie tightly as if it were his lifeline.

Shadow sighed, the weight of the situation pressing down on him. He wasn’t equipped to deal with this, not emotionally or mentally. And yet, when Galahad looked up at him with wide, pleading eyes, his tiny voice whispering, “Pretty please, can I have King Arthur toys?” Shadow felt his resolve crumbling all over again.

Shadow was mere inches away from putting a stop to the madness when Galahad’s amber eyes tilted up at him, wide and pleading. Those eyes—bright soft and innocent—stopped Shadow in his tracks, freezing him in place with the silent plea they carried. His resolve wavered. His jaw tightened. How could his own child, his own flesh and blood, adore Sonic of all people?

The prospect was unbearable. The blue blur, a perennial thorn in his side, had somehow invaded Shadow’s life in the most unexpected and exasperating way. Shadow, the Ultimate Lifeform, now stood in a toy store, grappling with the fact that his son—a literal Chaos-fueled son from another dimension—was a Sonic fanboy. Never before had he loathed Sonic as much as he did now. He could almost hear the smug hedgehog’s laugh echoing in his head.

“You can have one Sonic toy. One. That’s it,” Shadow relented, his voice gruff and laced with self-loathing for caving so easily.

Galahad’s face lit up, the sheer joy radiating from him stabbing through Shadow’s pride. The boy hugged the Sonic plushie tighter, burying his cheek against the fabric. “Then I take this one!” Galahad declared with enthusiasm, his tail wagging slightly.

Shadow let out a deep, guttural groan, already regretting his decision. “Fine,” he muttered. 

Shadow turned his gaze away, pinching the bridge of his nose as a headache began to form. “Go pick something else aswell,” he said, voice strained. “But nothing Sonic-related. Absolutely nothing.”

The toy store was vast, filled with bright displays and cheerful colors that clashed violently with Shadow’s dark mood. Shelves overflowed with stuffed animals, action figures, puzzles, and themed playsets. As Galahad darted off to explore, Shadow found himself glancing warily at each aisle, half expecting another ambush of Sonic-themed merchandise.

Galahad, for his part, seemed thrilled with the variety. His little feet padded eagerly across the tile as he scanned the shelves. After a few minutes of deliberation, he returned to Shadow with his arms full of treasures.

First, there was a plastic medieval sword, its blade gleaming in the artificial light. Galahad swung it experimentally, the motion surprisingly graceful for a child. “Look, Dad! I can fight like a knight!”

Shadow crossed his arms, nodding grudgingly. “At least it’s practical,” he muttered.

Next was a plastic knight’s outfit, complete with a helmet, shield, and breastplate adorned with a golden crest. Galahad’s eyes sparkled as he hugged the armor to his chest. “I’ll protect everyone, just like father!”

Shadow’s mouth twitched at the mention of Lancelot. 

Finally, Galahad revealed a massive Lego set, its box depicting a medieval castle under siege by dragons and fantastical creatures. Shadow raised an eyebrow. “That thing looks like it has over thousand pieces.”

“It does!” Galahad said with a grin. “We can build it together!”

Shadow blinked. We? The thought of spending hours assembling tiny plastic bricks seemed torturous, but the excitement in Galahad’s eyes left no room for argument.

“Fine,” Shadow said, his voice softer this time. “If it’ll make you happy.”

Galahad’s smile widened, and for a brief moment, Shadow felt a warmth he wasn’t entirely familiar with. Despite the headache, the ridiculous Sonic plushie, and the overwhelming chaos of the toy store, there was something undeniably fulfilling about seeing his son so content.

“Thank you, Dad,” Galahad said, his voice earnest as he clung to his haul.

Shadow looked away, his cheeks heating ever so slightly. “Let’s just get this over with.”

As they headed to the checkout counter, Shadow couldn’t help but glance at Galahad one more time. The boy was still clutching the plushie, his other hand swinging the toy sword with gusto. Shadow sighed. Maybe this parenting thing wasn’t all bad—so long as he didn’t have to look at that infernal Sonic plushie too often.

Shadow steeled himself for what he hoped would be an uneventful transaction. But, as he should have expected, nothing about his day was destined to go smoothly.

The cashier, a gray wolf with striking amber eyes, froze the moment she made eye contact with him. Her initial look of polite boredom shifted instantly to wide-eyed shock, her ears pinning back slightly.

“S-S-Shadow…” she stammered, her voice trembling with disbelief and fear. Her mind seemed to short-circuit as she tried to comprehend why the Ultimate Lifeform was standing before her.

“Dad? Do you know her?” Galahad asked curiously, peering up at the wolf with an innocent tilt of his head.

The cashier’s eyes darted to the small, white hedgehog holding Shadow’s hand, her expression now mingling shock with confusion. Dad?! Her brain was struggling to reconcile the idea.

Shadow, his patience already wearing thin, responded curtly. “No, I do not. And it would be wise of her to never speak a word about my presence here… or she will regret it.”

The wolf audibly gulped, nodding so quickly her ears flopped forward. Without another word, Shadow placed the items on the counter with a huff, his crimson gaze narrowing as the wolf’s shaky hands moved to scan each item.

Her fingers lingered a second too long on the Sonic plushie, her brow furrowing in bemusement. Why on earth would Shadow the Hedgehog buy something like this? Before she could dare to ask, Shadow growled low in his throat, his infamous death glare boring into her.

The wolf got the message loud and clear. She finished scanning the toys with hurried efficiency. “D-Do you want a bag, sir?” she asked, her voice quivering.

“Yes,” Shadow muttered coldly.

She nodded, sweating profusely as she placed them into a bag and handed it over to him. “T-That’ll be 1,532 rings, sir…”

Shadow’s brow twitched at the exorbitant price, but he paid without comment, tapping his card on the machine with an audible huff.

“T-Thank you, sir. Have a good day,” the cashier stammered, forcing a strained smile.

Shadow dismissed her with a grunt, grabbing the bag. Galahad quickly grabbed his free hand, beaming up at him.

“Where are we going now, Dad?” Galahad asked, his curiosity endless.

“To the bookstore. Rouge should still be there,” Shadow replied.

The young hedgehog’s ears perked up. “Dad, could I carry King Arthur?” he asked hopefully, gesturing to the Sonic plushie nestled among the other toys.

Shadow visibly stiffened, the mere thought of being seen with that accursed thing making his quills bristle. “Absolutely not. You can have it at home, but not here,” he snapped.

Galahad’s ears drooped at the rejection, his disappointment written plainly across his face. Shadow felt a pang of guilt twist in his chest but steeled his resolve.

“Please?”

“No.”

“Pretty please?”

“No. It’s final, Galahad,” Shadow growled, his tone brooking no further argument. Galahad huffed and pouted, but he relented.

The walk to the bookstore felt endless to Shadow, though it was barely a few blocks from the toy store. The streets of the bustling city were alive with activity. Cars hummed past, their engines blending into the background noise of chatter, laughter, and distant music from a street performer’s guitar. Tall buildings loomed overhead, their windows reflecting the sunlight, while festive decorations hung from lampposts, adding pops of color to the urban landscape.

Despite his best efforts to keep a low profile, Shadow’s imposing figure stood out like a thunderstorm on a sunny day. His jet-black fur and crimson streaks were unmistakable, a stark contrast against the mundane city surroundings. Pedestrians paused mid-step, gawking openly, and more than a few whipped out their phones, the telltale flashes of cameras flickering like fireflies. The whispers followed him like an irritating hum.

“Is that Shadow the Hedgehog?”

“Who’s the kid with him? He looks just like him!”

“Shadow has a son?!”

Shadow’s ears twitched in irritation at the murmurs, his crimson eyes narrowing into a death glare aimed at anyone who dared stare too long. It had no effect; if anything, it seemed to encourage more people to capture the moment. He bit back the urge to snarl, knowing any confrontation would only worsen the spectacle.

Galahad, oblivious to the attention, swung their clasped hands back and forth as he chattered excitedly. “Dad, what’s a bookstore like? Do they have books about knights and dragons? Maybe even about King Arthur?” His amber eyes sparkled with wonder, completely absorbed in his own musings.

Shadow sighed, his irritation softening just slightly at Galahad’s enthusiasm. “The bookstore has all kinds of books. You’ll see when we get there.”

The final stretch to the store felt like a test of patience, the stares and whispers was a constant weight on Shadow’s shoulders. When they finally reached the bookstore, the automatic doors slid open with a soft ding, and the world quieted as they stepped into the cozy, warm-lit interior.

Rows upon rows of shelves stretched before them, the scent of paper and ink filling the air. Soft instrumental music played overhead, blending seamlessly with the occasional murmur of customers browsing. A small café in the corner emitted the comforting aroma of coffee and pastries, its tables occupied by readers sipping lattes or flipping through freshly purchased books.

“Wow!” Galahad gasped, his eyes widening as he took in the sight. “I’ve never seen so many books in one place! Except in Merlina’s tower!”

Shadow allowed himself a small smirk at the boy’s awe. “The store has books for both kids and adults,” he explained. “There’s plenty to choose from.”

His sharp eyes scanned the store, quickly spotting Rouge in the children’s section, her wings twitching slightly as she thumbed through a colorful book. She perked up when she saw them approach, her trademark smirk already in place.

“Ah, you’re done already?” she said, eyeing the bag Shadow carried. “That was faster than I expected. What’d you buy?”

“Mostly medieval stuff,” Shadow replied, his tone clipped.

“And what wasn’t medieval?” she pressed, her eyes glinting with curiosity.

Shadow’s expression darkened, his scowl deepening. “I don’t want to talk about it,” he snapped.

Rouge chuckled, clearly enjoying his discomfort. “I’ll find out eventually,” she teased.

“Not here, Rouge,” Shadow growled, his tone dripping with warning.

“Fine, be that way,” she relented with an exaggerated sigh before turning her attention to Galahad. “Do you like books, Galahad?”

The young hedgehog nodded eagerly.

“Then why don’t you go explore and pick something you like?” Rouge suggested sweetly, conveniently glossing over the fact that Shadow’s wallet would foot the bill.

“Okay!” Galahad chirped, releasing Shadow’s hand to dart off into the aisles.

As Galahad wandered off, Shadow turned his attention back to Rouge, raising an eyebrow. “Why are you buying so many books?”

“They’re for Galahad,” she said, lifting the stack in her arms slightly. “A little welcome gift.”

“I see…” Shadow muttered, his response as begrudging as ever.

“You could at least say thank you,” she huffed, rolling her eyes.

“I didn’t ask you to buy anything,” Shadow retorted. “That’s on you.”

“Unbelievable,” Rouge muttered, shaking her head in exasperation.

Their conversation was interrupted by a familiar voice, louder than expected. Both of their ears perked, and Shadow’s ruby gaze snapped to the source of the sound.

Following the voice, they found Galahad standing in an aisle far from the children’s section, holding a thick novel. He was reading aloud, his voice full of innocent curiosity.

“She moaned as his hand stroked her leg while the other—”

“Galahad!” Shadow’s panicked cry rang out, echoing through the store. In an instant, he was at the boy’s side, yanking the book from his hands.

Galahad jumped in surprise, looking up at Shadow with wide, confused eyes. “What? What did I do?”

Shadow stared at the lurid cover of the novel, his face burning with mortification.

This was something Shadow wouldn’t soon forget—a moment of sheer embarrassment that he would likely revisit in his nightmares. The books name, Fifty Shades of Shame, was glaring proof that Galahad’s innocence combined with curiosity could wreak havoc. Shadow slammed the book shut with a sharp snap, shoving it back onto the shelf as if he could erase the memory of Galahad reading aloud from its most inappropriate page.

Rouge, of course, was no help. She was doubled over, clutching her stomach as tears of laughter rolled down her cheeks. Her snickers echoed across the store, drawing attention from a few nearby customers who were clearly puzzled by the commotion. Shadow clenched his fists, growling low in his throat, though he forced himself to focus on the matter at hand.

“Why did you pick that book, Galahad?” he demanded, fixing the young hedgehog with a stern glare. “It’s not for kids.”

Galahad looked up at him, his amber eyes wide with confusion and a hint of hurt. “But Dad, it says right there it’s the top-selling book in the world,” he explained, pointing at a bright sign above the shelf boasting the novel’s impressive sales numbers. His voice carried genuine pride, as if he thought he’d chosen something truly remarkable.

Shadow inhaled deeply, his patience thinning but just barely intact. “Just because it sells well doesn’t mean it’s good,” he muttered, the growl in his voice sharper now. “Don’t ever read garbage like that again. It’ll rot your brain.”

The young hedgehog’s ears drooped, fear flashing across his face. “Okay, Dad… I won’t,” he said softly, shifting uncomfortably.

Meanwhile, Rouge finally managed to catch her breath, though the occasional giggle still slipped through. “Oh, man,” she wheezed, wiping at her eyes. “That was comedy gold. If only I’d recorded it.”

Shadow shot her a glare so fierce it could have frozen lava, but Rouge was undeterred.

“All jokes aside,” she said, her tone light, “I’m impressed, Galahad. You can already read? How old are you?”

“I’m three years old!” Galahad replied proudly, puffing out his chest. “Father taught me. He said reading is a very important skill.”

Rouge’s amused expression shifted into one of genuine admiration. “It is an important skill,” she agreed. “Very impressive. But let’s stick to kid-friendly books, okay?”

“Okay,” Galahad agreed, surprisingly without complaint. He wandered back toward the children’s section, and this time, Shadow made sure to follow him closely. The hedgehog wasn’t about to let the boy out of his sight again—not after that disaster.

In the brightly colored children’s aisle, Galahad predictably gravitated toward books that matched his interests. He picked out tales of knights, dragons, kings, and medieval quests, his excitement growing with each selection. Shadow silently approved; at least these choices wouldn’t land them in another embarrassing situation.

Shadow also noticed, with a big relief, that Galahad didn’t even glance toward the Sonic-themed section. The vibrant blue display, complete with merchandise and brightly illustrated books, stood out starkly, yet Galahad seemed utterly uninterested.

After some time, both Galahad and Rouge were satisfied with their selections. Shadow, however, felt a twinge of regret as he approached the counter, already bracing for what would likely be an astronomical bill.

The cashier, a young orange cat, froze as soon as Shadow approached. His tail stiffened, and his wide green eyes flicked nervously between Shadow’s intimidating figure and the pile of books being placed on the counter.

“Y-you want a bag, sir?” the cat asked, his voice shaky.

“Yes,” Shadow replied curtly, his tone cold enough to chill the air.

The cashier scrambled to comply, his movements stiff and robotic as he scanned the books and bagged them. 

“T-that’ll be 1,040 rings, sir,” the cashier stammered, sweating profusely.

Shadow’s eye twitched at the absurd total. It was daylight robbery for books, but he paid without comment, swiping his card and grabbing the bag. Rouge soon joined him, carrying her own purchases and sporting a far too cheerful smile.

“What now?” Shadow asked, raising a suspicious eyebrow at her expression.

“Let’s go to a café,” Rouge suggested, her voice brimming with enthusiasm. “Get a nice snack and some coffee.”

Shadow considered the suggestion for a moment, deciding it was at least tolerable. “Which one?”

Her grin widened mischievously. “Café Chao Garden. Trust me, kids love it.”

The moment the words left her mouth, Shadow’s skepticism kicked in. He growled low in his throat. “Rouge…”

“Don’t worry so much! It’ll be fun!” she insisted, her tone as persuasive as ever.

“I want fun, Dad!” Galahad chimed in, his voice bubbling with excitement.

Rouge shot Shadow a smug grin. “See? Two against one.”

Shadow sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

“Fine,” Shadow relented, his tone clipped as he shot Rouge a warning glare. “But if it’s terrible, you’re paying for it.”

Rouge crossed her arms with a huff, feigning offense. “That’s no way to treat a lady, Shadow.”

Before Shadow could respond, Galahad tilted his head and looked up at Rouge, his amber eyes wide with genuine curiosity. “Y-you’re a lady?” he asked, his voice laced with shock as if the concept had just dawned on him.

Shadow smirked, unable to suppress his amusement.

Rouge’s jaw dropped, her wings fluttering in disbelief. “Excuse me?!”

“You don’t look like a lady,” Galahad explained earnestly, his innocent tone making the comment sting even more. He regarded her with a puzzled expression, as if she had suddenly transformed into an entirely different creature.

Shadow couldn’t help himself and let out a quiet chuckle. Rouge immediately turned her glare on him, her icy eyes sharp enough to cut.

“And just what is so funny?” she demanded, her voice dripping with indignation.

“Isn’t that obvious?” Shadow said, his smirk lingering.

“Ladies wear long dresses, lots of jewelry, and they’re either from noble bloodlines or married to knights,” Galahad continued, his voice filled with the certainty of a young boy raised in Camelot.

Rouge pinched the bridge of her nose, taking a calming breath. “Yeah, maybe in Camelot,” she said, her tone exasperated but patient. “But here, a lady is just a beautiful woman.”

“Oh…” Galahad said thoughtfully, mulling over the difference. After a beat, his eyes lit up again. “So, where will we go, Lady Rouge?”

The sudden shift in his tone and the way he addressed her made Rouge’s heart melt instantly. She clasped her hands together, letting out a dramatic coo. “Aww, you’re so adorable, Galahad! Maybe your dad could learn a thing or two from you.” She reached down and ruffled his quills affectionately.

Shadow snorted, crossing his arms as he looked away. “That will never happen.”

Rouge straightened, smirking at him before gesturing toward the exit. “Café Chao Garden is just a short walk from here. Follow me, gentlemen.”

The trio exited the bookstore, stepping back into the bustling streets. The cool breeze carried the scent of fresh pastries and brewed coffee from nearby shops, mixing with the chatter of pedestrians and the distant hum of traffic. Despite the earlier embarrassment, Galahad happily skipped alongside Shadow, clutching his hand while looking around with wide-eyed wonder.

The walk to Café Chao Garden took about three minutes. The café stood out with its whimsical design, featuring a bright, oversized sign of a cheerful Chao holding a cup of coffee. The outdoor seating area was bustling with people, many of whom had Chao companions perched on their shoulders or bouncing around the tables. The creatures chittered and chirped happily, occasionally interacting with the patrons.

Shadow sighed, his suspicions confirmed. “I knew it…” he muttered under his breath as they approached the entrance.

Rouge shot him a teasing grin over her shoulder. “Don’t be such a grump. It’s adorable, and Galahad will love it.”

“Adorable isn’t the word I’d use,” Shadow grumbled, but he followed her inside anyway, Galahad tugging at his hand with eager enthusiasm. Shadow just hope he wouldn’t regret this.

Chapter Text

The café chao garden was like stepping into a serene sanctuary. Lush greenery climbed the walls, blending seamlessly with hanging pots of vibrant flowers, while sunlight poured through skylights, casting dappled patterns across the polished wooden floor. Small tables were scattered among the garden décor, each with tiny fountains or potted plants, and the air was filled with the cheerful chittering of chao. These delightful creatures freely roamed the café, playfully interacting with patrons as they sipped drinks or nibbled on pastries.

As Shadow, Rouge, and Galahad stepped inside, Galahad’s face lit up with awe. His eyes darted around the café, following the chao as they darted between tables, offering flowers or tugging gently at sleeves for attention. One of them, a blue chao with glittering wings, waddled over to him, squeaking excitedly. Galahad dropped to his knees immediately, a broad smile on his face as he gently petted the chao, who purred in delight.

Rouge chuckled, crouching to join Galahad as a few more chao approached, eager for attention. “Aren’t they the cutest?” she said, scratching on top of a yellow chao’s head that leaned into her touch.

Shadow, on the other hand, stood stiffly near the entrance, arms crossed and expression unimpressed. His crimson eyes scanned the room, clearly uninterested in the chao swarming his companions. One of the creatures ventured cautiously toward him but quickly retreated when met with his cold stare.

“Ugh, can we get this over with?” Shadow muttered, glancing toward the counter where the smell of freshly brewed coffee beckoned.

“Oh, lighten up,” Rouge teased, grinning as she scooped up a chao and held it out to him. “They might warm up to you if you stopped glaring at them.”

Shadow shot her a withering look, which only made her laugh as she set the chao back down. “Fine,” she said, standing and brushing herself off. “Let’s get our grump some coffee before he implodes.”

Reluctantly, Galahad stood, his gaze still fixed on the chao trailing after him as they approached the counter. When Shadow turned to him and asked, “What do you want?” the boy’s attention shifted to the display case filled with cakes and pastries.

His jaw dropped as he pressed his hands to the glass, eyes wide with amazement. The cakes were vibrant and artistic, adorned with glossy fruits, edible flowers, and delicate chocolate designs. “They all look so good,” he whispered, his voice full of wonder.

Rouge leaned over his shoulder, pointing to a cake topped with whipped cream and strawberries. “That one’s the café’s most popular. You can’t go wrong with it.”

Galahad nodded eagerly. “I’ll take that one!” he said, beaming up at Shadow.

Shadow sighed and placed the order, adding two coffees for himself and Rouge. As they sat down with their drinks and Galahad’s slice of cake, the boy’s delighted chatter about the chao and his dessert filled the air. Shadow sipped his coffee, feigning annoyance but secretly finding the moment more tolerable than he’d admit. Rouge smirked knowingly, her teasing glance saying everything she didn’t need to voice aloud.

As Galahad took his first bite of the cake, his eyes lit up in pure delight. “It’s so sweet!” he exclaimed, his voice muffled slightly by the fork in his mouth. “I’ve never tasted anything like this. It’s so rich and… amazing!” He grinned at Shadow and Rouge, his cheeks puffed slightly as he eagerly devoured the treat.

“Glad you like it,” Rouge said with a chuckle, sipping her coffee. 

Galahad nodded enthusiastically, finishing the cake in record time. “I love it!” he declared, pushing his empty plate aside. Without hesitation, he slid off his chair and crouched near the chao still gathered around him, reaching out to pet the nearest one.

The chao squeaked happily, leaning into his touch. One by one, the chao gathered closer, poking at him with curiosity and vying for his attention. Galahad’s gentle pats seemed to elicit an almost magical response. The little orbs hovering above the chao’s heads began to glow and shift into heart shapes, and their bodies quivered as though they were changing. Their colors softened, their hues gradually lightening toward a radiant white as their forms subtly morphed into more hedgehog shapes.

A staff member behind the counter, a young woman with brown hair tied into a loose ponytail and bright blue eyes, gasped audibly. “Oh my goodness!” she exclaimed, her voice tinged with awe. She quickly stepped out from behind the counter and approached the trio.

“Is something wrong?” Rouge asked, raising an eyebrow.

The woman shook her head, still staring at the chao in amazement. “No, it’s just… this is incredible! It’s extremely rare for someone to have the kind of nature that can influence chao transformations. Most people are completely neutral and don’t affect them at all.”

Galahad blinked up at her, his hand still resting on a chao that was glowing faintly. “I… did that?” he asked, his voice small and uncertain.

The woman nodded. “Yes. These chao are responding to you in a way that only happens with very special individuals. It’s like they’re evolving toward a hero alignment because of your presence.” She glanced at the chao with a look of wonder before turning back to Galahad. “It’s remarkable.”

Shadow and Rouge exchanged surprised looks. “Is that so,” Shadow muttered, his tone skeptical but his crimson eyes sharp with curiosity.

The woman smiled warmly at Galahad and reached into a nearby basket. She held out a large, radiant fruit, glowing faintly with a golden hue. “Here,” she said, handing it to him. “This is a hero fruit. It’s on the house—please, give it to one of the chao. I’d love to see how they react.”

Galahad’s face lit up with excitement as he accepted the fruit. “Thank you so much!” he said, his enthusiasm infectious. He turned to the chao closest to him and offered the fruit. The chao eagerly nibbled at it, and as it ate, its body glowed brighter. 

As the chao finished the last bite of the hero fruit, a shimmering blue-green cocoon enveloped it, drawing the attention of everyone in the café. Gasps echoed throughout the room, and several patrons pulled out their phones to capture the moment, murmuring excitedly about the rare sight.

“What’s happening?” Galahad asked, his voice tinged with confusion and curiosity.

The woman leaned down slightly, her tone both calm and awe-filled. “Spike is evolving,” she explained. “You gave him the push he needed to grow from a child into an adult chao.”

Galahad’s fascination deepened, his wide eyes fixed on the glowing cocoon as it pulsed and shifted. Finally, the light faded, and Spike emerged, his form completely transformed. He now resembled a miniature, chao-like hedgehog version of Galahad, with a golden halo floating above his head.

The woman clasped her hands together in astonishment. “Absolutely incredible,” she whispered, her voice barely audible over the murmurs of the crowd.

Rouge laughed softly, breaking the moment. “Looks like our little guy is full of surprises,” she teased, nudging Shadow with her elbow. “What do you think? Want to give it a go?”

Shadow’s frown deepened, and his crimson gaze narrowed. “I don’t see the point,” he said flatly, his tone laced with skepticism.

The woman tilted her head, regarding him with interest. “It’s possible that your son inherited this ability from you,” she suggested thoughtfully. “Why not pet one of the chao and see if your nature influences them too?”

Shadow bristled at the suggestion, crossing his arms. “I doubt that,” he replied tersely, though the slight shift in his stance betrayed his discomfort.

Rouge smirked, clearly enjoying his reluctance. “Oh, come on, Shadow. Do it for science,” she quipped with a wink.

After a long, exasperated sigh, Shadow leaned down and placed a reluctant hand on a nearby chao. The tiny creature froze for a moment, then emitted a delighted squeak as the orb above its head began to shimmer. Instead of shifting to white, however, the light darkened, turning deep black as the chao’s body grew sleeker, taking on a sharper, more menacing silhouette.

“Fascinating,” the woman breathed, her blue eyes wide. “You have an influence too—just on the dark spectrum.”

Shadow straightened, brushing his hands off as though dismissing the event. “Satisfied?” he muttered, glaring at Rouge.

“Oh, very,” Rouge replied with a grin that was equal parts amused and smug. 

Meanwhile, Galahad was still kneeling by the transformed Spike, his hands running gently over the chao’s new features. He giggled as more chao crowded around him, eager for his attention. “This place is amazing!” he exclaimed, his face alight with pure joy.

Rouge leaned back in her chair, a smug smile playing on her lips as she watched Galahad crouch near a cluster of chao, his hands gently stroking their soft, rounded heads.

“Told you he’d love this place,” Rouge said casually, her voice carrying a hint of satisfaction as she glanced sideways at Shadow.

Shadow, seated stiffly in his chair, ignored her pointed look. His crimson eyes remained fixed on the half-empty mug of coffee in his hand. He took a final sip, set the mug down with a quiet clink, and stood. “We’re finished here,” he said, his deep voice cutting through the tranquil atmosphere. Brushing his hands off, he added firmly, “It’s time to go.”

Galahad’s head snapped up from where he had been petting a chao with a heart-shaped orb floating above its head. The boy’s expression shifted instantly from joy to dismay. “What? But I’m not ready! I want to stay longer!” he protested, his voice rising in pitch and echoing faintly in the spacious café.

Shadow’s gaze swept the room, narrowing as he noted the lingering stares from other patrons. Several people had their phones out, recording the newly evolved chao perched proudly on a nearby table. The soft murmurs of awe and hushed commentary grated against his composure. His shoulders stiffened. “We’re leaving,” he repeated, his tone steely and unyielding. “Whether you like it or not.”

Galahad’s small fists clenched at his sides, his face flushing in frustration as he stood his ground. It was clear he was moments away from a full-blown tantrum when Rouge stepped in with her usual tact.

“Hey, don’t worry, kiddo,” she said smoothly, leaning forward and resting her chin on her hand. “We can come back another time, okay? You’ll get to see the chao again.”

Galahad’s glare wavered, his frustration giving way to a flicker of hope. “Really?” he asked, his voice soft and uncertain.

Rouge gave him a warm smile and nodded. “Really. But for now, we’ve got to go.”

Though still reluctant, Galahad nodded, his lower lip jutting out slightly in a pout. He trailed behind them as they exited the café, the door’s bell jingling softly. The vibrant energy of the chao garden gave way to the bustling town outside, where cobblestone streets stretched under the warm afternoon sun, lined with quaint shops and street vendors selling their wares.

As they walked, Rouge glanced back at Galahad, noting his sulky expression. With a smirk, she decided to lift his spirits. “You know,” she began nonchalantly, “there’s someone we know who has a chao as a pet.”

Galahad’s ears perked up immediately, and he quickened his pace to walk beside her. “Really? Who?” he asked eagerly.

Rouge chuckled, amused by his sudden enthusiasm. “Her name’s Cream the Rabbit, and her chao is called Cheese. Cream is a sweet kid, about six years old.”

Galahad’s eyes sparkled with interest. “A kid like me? Can I meet her?”

Shadow, walking a step ahead, scowled at the question. “No,” he replied flatly, his tone sharp enough to end the conversation.

Rouge raised an eyebrow at him, clearly entertained by his curt response. “Oh, come on, Shadow,” she teased, her voice laced with mischief. “It wouldn’t hurt for Galahad to meet someone closer to his age. And Cream’s hardly a threat.”

Shadow’s frown deepened, and his crimson eyes briefly flicked to Galahad, who was now looking up at him with wide, pleading eyes. “We’ll see,” he muttered gruffly, his reluctance evident.

Rouge, delighted by his discomfort, smirked. “Don’t worry, Galahad,” she said with a playful wink. “I’ll make sure you get to meet her.”

The promise instantly brightened Galahad’s mood, his sulk melting away into a beaming smile. Shadow, on the other hand, muttered something inaudible under his breath and picked up the pace, clearly eager to avoid further discussion. The trio continued down the cobblestone streets, the sunlight casting long shadows behind them as the day pressed on.

As the trio walked down the bustling cobblestone streets, Rouge tilted her head and casually asked, “So, Shadow, where exactly are we heading next?”

Shadow glanced at her briefly before answering, “Galahad needs a new pair of shoes—and spare gloves. The ones he came with are worn out.”

Rouge raised an eyebrow, clearly impressed. “Look at you, being all thoughtful,” she teased, a smirk tugging at her lips. “Who knew Shadow the Hedgehog had a soft side?”

Shadow’s eyes narrowed. “It’s called being practical,” he replied curtly. “The boy can’t walk around in tattered shoes.”

Rouge chuckled. “Sure, sure. But I’m guessing that’s not the only reason you were in such a hurry to leave the café.”

Shadow exhaled sharply, his expression tightening. After a moment, he admitted, “The cameras. People filming us. It’s too much attention. Staying in one spot too long isn’t wise.”

Rouge nodded, her teasing tone softening. “Fair point. I’d rather avoid seeing our faces all over the news too. Smart thinking.”

They stopped in front of a shoe store, its display window showcasing a variety of sleek and colorful footwear. The store’s sign swung gently in the breeze, creaking faintly. Shadow opened the door, the small bell above it jingling as they entered.

Inside, rows of neatly arranged shoes lined the shelves, ranging from practical designs to flashy, high-end styles. Galahad’s eyes lit up the moment he stepped in, his excitement palpable. “Wow! So many shoes!” he exclaimed, darting toward a display of athletic footwear.

Rouge followed him, amused. “You act like you’ve never seen a shoe store before, kiddo.”

Galahad shook his head enthusiastically. “Shoes are really expensive in Camelot. Most kids inherit shoes from family or friends. Because we grow out of them so quickly” He picked up a sleek pair of sneakers and turned them over in his hands, marveling at their craftsmanship.

Rouge chuckled, her tone warm. “Well, lucky for you, Shadow don’t have money issue.”

Shadow folded his arms, watching as Galahad eagerly inspected the options. “Even so, don’t go overboard,” he warned, though his tone lacked any real bite.

After some deliberation, Galahad chose a pair. The shoes were sleek and futuristic in design, primarily white with silver-gray accents running along the sides. The soles glowed faintly with a blue-green hue, and the top featured golden detailing around the ankle cuffs, giving them a regal yet modern flair.

“These are amazing!” Galahad said, slipping them on and hopping a few steps to test their fit. “They’re so comfortable!”

Rouge smiled, hands on her hips. “Good choice. They suit you.”

Shadow nodded in approval. “If you’re done picking, we’ll get these and move on.”

As Galahad admired his new shoes in a nearby mirror, Rouge leaned toward Shadow and whispered, “You’re really nailing this ‘dad’ thing, you know.”

Shadow rolled his eyes, though the faintest hint of a smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.

After Galahad had admired his new shoes one last time, he carefully removed them, handing them to Shadow so they could be paid for. The exchange at the counter went surprisingly smoothly compared to their earlier stops. The male wolf working the register barely glanced at Shadow, processing the transaction with professional indifference. Shadow nodded curtly as he grabbed the bag, leading Galahad and Rouge out of the store.

Their next stop was a clothing shop tailored specifically for Mobians. The interior was vibrant, with racks of colorful clothing and accessories organized neatly. The shop seemed to buzz with energy, Mobian customers browsing and chatting in small groups.

Galahad’s eyes widened as he took in the variety of items on display. “Wow!”  he exclaimed, darting toward a display of gloves in various designs and sizes.

Shadow watched him for a moment before turning to Rouge, his voice low. “Why did you bring up Cream earlier?”

Rouge arched a brow, clearly amused by his question. “It’s good for Galahad to meet kids, he needs friends.”

Shadow frowned slightly, his arms crossing. 

Rouge smirked, leaning casually against a nearby rack of scarves. “It’s not just about Galahad. Cream’s mother, Vanilla, is one of the most experienced and kindhearted parents I’ve ever met. She could help you out.”

Shadow’s frown deepened, his confusion evident. “Why would I need help? I’ve been managing just fine.”

Rouge chuckled softly. “Sure, for now. But you’re new to this, Shadow. Vanilla’s been raising Cream for years. She’s patient, understanding, and full of good advice. Wouldn’t hurt to have someone like that in your corner.”

Shadow hesitated, clearly uncomfortable with the idea. “I don’t even know her,” he argued.

“Exactly,” Rouge countered smoothly. “Perfect time to get to know her. She’s not some stranger off the street—she’s trustworthy, and she’ll understand your situation better than most.”

Shadow glanced toward Galahad, who was now comparing different pairs of gloves with an excited smile. “I haven’t been struggling,” he said defensively.

Rouge shrugged. “And that’s great, but don’t wait until you are struggling to look for advice.”  she pointed out with a mischievous grin, 

Shadow sighed, the tension in his shoulders relaxing slightly as he considered her words. “I’ll think about it,” he muttered, his voice gruff but less dismissive.

Rouge’s lips curved into a knowing smile. “That’s all I ask…” She let the words hang in the air, the comfortable silence stretching between them. After a moment, an idea sparked in her mind, and she tilted her head thoughtfully.

“There’s something I’ve been wondering,” she said, her voice breaking the quiet with a casual yet purposeful tone.

Shadow turned his head slightly, his crimson eyes narrowing with curiosity. “What is it?”

Rouge’s lips curled into a sly smirk. She straightened and gestured vaguely toward Galahad. “Who’s going to be Galahad’s hogparent?”

Shadow tilted his head, his brow furrowing. “Hogparent?”

“Yeah, you know… hogparent.” Rouge made a sweeping motion with her hand, as if the explanation should be self-evident.

Shadow’s expression remained blank, though his tone gained an edge of suspicion. “I’ve never heard of that term before.”

Rouge let out a low chuckle, leaning closer as if to emphasize her point. “Oh, Shadow, don’t tell me Mr. Perfect Lifeform doesn’t know basic Mobian customs. You’ve been around long enough to learn a thing or two, haven’t you?”

Shadow’s glare sharpened, a faint flicker of irritation crossing his face. “Just explain it.”

With a teasing laugh, Rouge tapped her chin thoughtfully. “A hogparent is like… a backup parent. If something ever happens to you, they’re the one who steps in to take care of the kid. You know, make sure they’re looked after. It’s a pretty common tradition—started with hedgehogs, but others do it too. Usually the hogparent just buy gifts to the kid and give extra support.”

“Backup?” Shadow repeated, his tone low and offended. His shoulders stiffening. “Nothing is going to happen to me. I’m immortal, and I’m more than capable of protecting myself.”

Rouge gave him a look, folding her arms as her smirk deepened. “And what about long term missions? Or, oh, I don’t know, the fact that life can be unpredictable? Look, I’m not saying you need to start writing your will, but it’s not a bad idea to have someone there for Galahad. For his sake.”

Shadow didn’t reply immediately. His gaze shifted back to the boy, who was now testing the fit of the gloves, flexing his fingers as if imagining himself in some grand battle. A faint hint of pride flickered in Shadow’s eyes, though his expression quickly hardened again.

“You seem unusually invested in this idea,” Shadow said finally, his tone laced with suspicion. “Is this because you want to be his hogparent?”

Rouge’s reaction was instant. She snorted so loudly that a few nearby customers glanced their way. She waved them off with a casual flick of her wrist before turning her attention back to Shadow.

“Me? Absolutely not.” Rouge shook her head, laughing under her breath. “Way too much responsibility. And, in case you forgot, I’m a bat, not a hedgehog. Hogparents are supposed to be from the same species. Someone who can relate to the kid.”

Shadow’s frown deepened, his expression twisting into a grimace as realization dawned on him. “That would limit the options to…” He trailed off, his tone dripping with dread. “Sonic or Amy.”

Rouge’s grin widened as she watched him struggle with the thought. “Exactly. So, who’s it gonna be? The blue blur or the pink powerhouse?”

Shadow let out a slow, deliberate breath, pinching the bridge of his nose as if willing the conversation to disappear. 

“Neither,” he said flatly, his voice leaving no room for debate.

Rouge raised an eyebrow, her smirk fading into an unimpressed frown. “Oh, come on, Shadow. You can’t just shut this down because you don’t like the options. This isn’t about you—it’s about what’s best for Galahad.”

Shadow glare sharpening. “It’s not happening. End of discussion.”

Rouge groaned, throwing her head back in exaggerated frustration. “You’re impossible, you know that? One of these days, your stubbornness is going to come back and bite you.”

Despite his unwavering tone, the idea clung to the edges of Shadow’s mind, refusing to be dismissed entirely. Assigning Sonic or Amy as Galahad’s hogparent would mean inviting one of them into his life on a semi-regular basis. That prospect alone made his skin crawl.

Sonic, for instance, was completely out of the question. The blue hedgehog’s endless energy and infuriating smugness were already insufferable during brief encounters. Shadow could only imagine how unbearable Sonic would become if he had a valid excuse to spend more time around him—and worse, if he could gloat about how much Galahad adored him.

Because, of course, Galahad adored Sonic. The boy practically worshipped him. Shadow had seen it in the way Galahad’s eyes lit up at the mention of Arthur’s name. If it were Galahad’s choice, the matter would already be settled. The thought of Sonic meeting Galahad sent an unwelcome shiver down Shadow’s spine. Sonic’s easy charm, his natural ability to inspire others, and his overall Sonic-ness grated against Shadow’s more reserved and calculated nature. The idea of that idiot influencing Galahad made his stomach twist uncomfortably.

And then there was Amy. While she wasn’t as actively irritating as Sonic, her boundless optimism and emotional intensity made her equally difficult for Shadow to tolerate. She was well-meaning and capable—he could admit that—but spending prolonged time in her presence was exhausting. Worse, Amy had a tendency to involve herself in other people’s lives, and Shadow could already picture her swooping in to “fix” whatever she deemed lacking in his care of Galahad. The mere thought made his jaw tighten.

Between the two, Shadow could barely tolerate Sonic in small doses, but Amy’s relentless energy was enough to leave him drained in record time. The conclusion was clear: neither of them would do.

If it were up to him, the question of a hogparent would never come up again. For now, Shadow resolved to let the matter rest, hoping Galahad wouldn’t need one.

However, it was only a matter of time before Galahad and Sonic crossed paths. That inevitability sent another chill down his spine. Hopefully that won’t happen anytime soon. 

Chapter Text

Shadow carried the last of the bags through the door, his wallet lighter than he liked and his patience wearing thin. The shopping trip had been longer and more expensive than he had anticipated. The list of items Galahad needed had seemed straightforward at first, but by the time they’d finished, Shadow found himself silently seething at the total cost.

He half-expected Rouge to just dump the purchase at his place the moment they entered then disappear. But, to his surprise, she didn’t, instead casually leaning against the wall as though she hadn’t just spent the last hour indulging in her own whims.

Galahad, however, seemed utterly unfazed by the ordeal. The moment they walked in, he bounced on his heels, tugging at Shadow’s arm. “Dad! Can I see the toys now? Please, please, please?”

Shadow groaned internally, his crimson eyes narrowing at the boy’s boundless enthusiasm. It was then that he remembered the plushie. The Sonic plushie.

He tried not to glance at the offending bag, but Rouge’s sharp gaze caught the slight hesitation in his movements. Her knowing smirk grew by the second, and Shadow already felt the beginnings of a headache forming.

With a reluctant sigh, Shadow placed the bags on the living room floor and opened the one containing the toys. Before he could react, Galahad lunged forward, diving straight for the Sonic plushie.

“I found it!” Galahad shouted triumphantly, holding the toy aloft like a treasure from some grand adventure. His excitement was palpable as he hugged the plush tightly to his chest, his tail wagging slightly.

Rouge blinked, taking in the scene with a mixture of amusement and disbelief. She clapped a hand over her mouth, doing her best to stifle the laugh threatening to escape. But her eyes sparkled with mischief as she glanced at Shadow, who was glaring daggers at her.

The low growl emanating from Shadow didn’t faze her. If anything, it seemed to fuel her amusement. “Shadow,” she managed, her voice trembling with barely contained laughter, “you—Shadow the Hedgehog—bought a Sonic plushie. For your kid. Oh, this is rich.”

Shadow’s glare intensified, his fists clenching at his sides. “Not. One. Word.”

That was all it took. Rouge lost the battle, doubling over with laughter that echoed through the room. Tears welled in her eyes as she tried—and failed—to compose herself.

Galahad, oblivious to the exchange, was busy pulling out the other toys from the bag and setting them up on the living room floor. Shadow, meanwhile, was left to endure Rouge’s hysterics, his scowl deepening with every second.

“You’re crying now?” he muttered darkly, crossing his arms.

Rouge wiped at her eyes, still grinning. “I can’t help it! You—the Ultimate Lifeform—bought a Sonic plushie. Oh, this is the best thing I’ve seen in years!”

Shadow let out a heavy sigh, muttering under his breath about meddlesome bats and annoying plushies. He cast a glance at Galahad, who was now playing happily, the Sonic plush clutched tightly in one hand.

Rouge’s laughter continued to echo through the room, her face flushed and her voice hitching as she struggled to catch her breath. She leaned against the wall, holding her sides, wiping at her eyes as her mirth slowly subsided. “Oh, Shadow,” she managed between lingering chuckles, “I can’t—this is too much!”

Shadow, arms crossed and jaw tight, was decidedly unamused. “Are you finished?” he asked flatly, his tone colder than usual.

Rouge took a deep breath, finally regaining her composure. She smirked at him, still unable to resist poking the bear. “You know,” she began, her voice dripping with mischief, “it’s only a matter of time before Sonic finds out about this. And when he does…”

“He won’t,” Shadow interjected, his crimson eyes narrowing dangerously. “Sonic will never find out about this.” His voice was sharp and certain, brooking no argument.

Rouge, of course, wasn’t convinced in the slightest. “Oh, sure,” she said, waving a hand dismissively. “Because secrets like this always stay buried. Especially when you’ve got a kid who worships the ground Sonic runs on.” Her grin widened. “It’s not a matter of if, Shadow. It’s a matter of when.”

Shadow’s glare intensified, and his growl rumbled low in his throat. “Rouge,” he said slowly, his patience visibly thinning, “are you done with your visit yet?”

Rouge grinned, completely unfazed. “Not even close. Face it, Shadow—you’d be calling out for me the second I walk out that door.”

He wanted to argue, to tell her she was wrong, but instead, he stayed silent. As much as it grated on him to admit it, Rouge had been more helpful than he’d expected lately.

Seizing the moment, Rouge gestured to the stack of books she’d placed on the coffee table. “Well, since you’re so eager for me to leave, how about you take a look at these? They might just save your life—or at least your sanity.”

Shadow glanced at the books with disinterest. “If reading them will make you leave faster, then so be it.”

Rouge didn’t take his antisocial comment to heart. She knew he’d been pushing his social limits lately. Instead, she leaned back against the couch and watched as Shadow picked up the first book.

The stack was a mix of colorful children’s books clearly meant for Galahad and more practical ones aimed at parenting. One in particular, Cooking for Little Mobians, caught his eye. Shadow groaned internally.

“I’ll be fine,” he muttered, setting the book down.

Rouge raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. “Sure you will. But just in case, those books might teach you a thing or two.”

Before Shadow could argue, Galahad suddenly appeared, dressed head to toe in a toy knight’s costume he have pulled from the shopping bags. He struck a dramatic pose, holding a plastic sword high. “I am Sir Galahad, Knight of the Round Table!” he declared, his voice full of conviction. “I am here to protect you, Lady Rouge and dad!”

Rouge’s face lit up, and she immediately grabbed her phone. “Oh, this is adorable! Hold still, Sir Galahad—this moment needs to be captured for posterity.”

As Rouge snapped photos, Shadow remained stoic, his expression unreadable. But deep down, his heart melted at the sight of Galahad’s boundless joy and imagination.

Galahad stood proudly in his knight’s costume, holding his plastic sword with the authority of a seasoned warrior. The toy shield strapped to his arm was a bit too big for him, sliding slightly down his small frame, but he didn’t let it dampen his enthusiasm. He cleared his throat dramatically, his voice rising with an air of importance.

“Fear not, dad and Lady Rouge! For I, Sir Galahad, protector of justice, shall defend you from all evil! No villain shall stand against my blade!” He swung the sword in a wide arc, nearly knocking over a lamp, which Shadow caught just in time.

“Careful,” Shadow muttered, setting the lamp back in place.

Unperturbed by the near accident, Galahad puffed out his chest. “I will defeat all dragons, conquer all monsters, and save the day—every day! It’s my duty as the bravest knight in the kingdom!” He pointed his sword at an imaginary foe, his eyes alight with excitement. “Hah! Take that, evil beast!”

Rouge stifled a laugh, utterly charmed. “I think you’ve got this whole knight thing down, kiddo. What’s your next quest?”

Galahad tapped his chin with the tip of his sword as if pondering deeply. “Hmm… My next quest is… to protect Dad from anything scary!” He whirled around to face Shadow, his determination fierce. “Don’t worry, Dad! I’ll always protect you, even if it’s from the scariest monster in the world!”

Shadow blinked, momentarily taken aback. “I don’t need protecting,” he said firmly, though his tone was softer than usual.

Galahad, undeterred, stomped a tiny foot. “But every knight has someone to protect! And you’re my someone, Dad! You and Lady Rouge!”

Rouge placed a hand over her heart, feigning dramatic emotion. “Aw, Sir Galahad, you’re making me blush. What a noble knight you are!”

Galahad’s smile grew even brighter, and he turned back to Shadow with wide, pleading eyes. His voice softened, almost trembling with hope. “Do you think I’m a good knight, Dad?”

Shadow stared at him, the boy’s expectant gaze cutting through the stoic walls he always kept up. There was something about those eyes—so full of admiration and longing—that Shadow couldn’t resist. He let out a quiet sigh, his expression softening ever so slightly.

“Sir Galahad,” he said at last, his voice steady but warm, “you’ll be the best knight in the world.”

Galahad’s eyes sparkled with joy, and he immediately declared, “The ultimate knight!”

Rouge chuckled, clearly enjoying the exchange. 

Before Shadow could respond, Galahad rushed forward, dropping his sword and shield with a clatter as he wrapped his small arms tightly around Shadow’s waist. “Thanks, Dad! You’re the best!”

For a moment, Shadow stood stiffly, unused to such overt affection. But as Galahad pressed his cheek against him, Shadow’s hands slowly lifted, resting lightly on the boy’s back before pulling him into a proper embrace.

As the hug lingered, Shadow’s gaze shifted, catching sight of Rouge sitting casually on the couch. Something about her overly relaxed posture felt… off. His sharp crimson eyes narrowed when he noticed her hands were holding her phone steady, the faint glint of the lens pointed directly at him and Galahad.

It took him a second to register what she was doing, but when it hit, his expression darkened. “Rouge,” he growled, his tone low and dangerous. “Are you recording?”

Rouge didn’t even flinch. Instead, she smirked teasingly and casually stopped the recording with a deliberate tap. “Maybe I was,” she admitted, her voice full of mischief. “But since you caught me, I guess the moment’s over.”

“How long?” Shadow demanded, his grip on Galahad loosening as he straightened, suspicion radiating off of him.

Rouge’s grin widened as she got up from the couch, phone still in hand. “Long enough.”

Shadow’s eyes narrowed into slits. Carefully disentangling himself from Galahad’s embrace, he stepped forward, his voice as cold as steel. “Give me the phone. Now.”

Rouge tilted her head innocently, tucking the phone behind her back. “What, so you can delete my hard work? Not a chance. I was thinking of posting it online, actually. Maybe caption it ‘The Ultimate Lifeform’s Softer Side.’”

Shadow lunged without hesitation, his patience snapping like a dry twig. “Rouge!”

But she was ready. With a laugh, she leapt gracefully out of his reach, twisting just as Shadow’s arms closed on empty air. “You’ll have to be faster than that!” she teased, darting toward the hallway.

The chase was on.

Shadow pursued her, his movements quick and calculated, but the tight spaces of the house left him at a frustrating disadvantage. If he moved at full speed, the risk of tearing through walls or toppling furniture skyrocketed. And Rouge knew it.

She zigzagged through the narrow living room, ducking under a low-hanging light fixture and flipping over the couch with practiced ease. Shadow’s hand nearly caught the back of her boot, but she pivoted midair, landing gracefully on the kitchen counter.

“Stop running!” Shadow barked, slamming his hand into the counter’s edge as Rouge leapt to the other side.

“Stop chasing!” she shot back, her laughter filling the house.

Shadow growled in frustration, his movements sharp and precise, but no matter how close he got, Rouge stayed a step ahead. A chair toppled as he tried to cut her off in the dining room, and a vase wobbled dangerously on the table before Galahad caught it just in time.

“Dad! What’s going on?!” Galahad called out, standing in the middle of the chaos with wide eyes.

Shadow didn’t answer, too focused on catching the infuriating bat. Rouge, meanwhile, winked at the boy as she glided toward the door. “Just a little exercise, Sir Galahad. Don’t mind us!”

Finally, she reached the front door and flung it open, the cool breeze of the outdoors rushing in. With one powerful beat of her wings, she took to the sky, hovering just out of Shadow’s reach.

“Rouge!” Shadow roared, standing in the doorway, his fists clenched at his sides. “Get back here. Now.”

Rouge cupped her hands around her mouth, her laughter echoing down the street. “That’s what you get for not appreciating me, Shadow!” she called back, her voice full of playful glee. “See you later!”

She flew higher, her laughter fading as she disappeared into the horizon.

Shadow stood there for a long moment, his body rigid with barely-contained fury. He could, in theory, chase her down. His speed was more than enough to catch up with her, but the thought of leaving Galahad alone stopped him cold.

He turned back inside, slamming the door behind him with more force than necessary.

Rouge’s laughter echoed in his ears, and the thought of her flying away with that video made his blood boil. He didn’t know what infuriated him more—the fact that she had the audacity to record it, the teasing, or the looming uncertainty of what she planned to do with the footage.

Would she actually post it online? Rouge loved to push his buttons, but she wasn’t reckless. Still, there was no telling with her. Maybe she’d just keep it as blackmail material, a trump card to hold over his head whenever she wanted something. The thought made his fists tighten. He swore to himself that when they met again, there’d be no mercy.

A small sound broke his thoughts—a faint scuffle of feet against the hallway floor. Shadow glanced down, his blazing crimson eyes meeting the confused gaze of Galahad, still standing there in his makeshift knight’s outfit.

The boy’s big, round eyes blinked up at him, the expression on his face a mix of curiosity and concern. “Dad… why did lady Rouge leave so fast? Did she do something bad?”

Shadow let out a slow breath, forcing himself to unclench his fists. Seeing Galahad standing there, holding his toy sword tightly as if ready to defend him, had an almost absurd way of softening the storm in his chest. He hated how easily the little hoglet could dismantle his anger without even trying.

“She…” Shadow began, then hesitated, his voice dropping to a low mutter. “She was being a nuisance, as usual.”

“Oh.” Galahad tilted his head slightly, still not entirely sure what had transpired but nodding as if he understood. “I don’t think I like it when lady Rouge is a nuisance.”

Shadow smirked faintly despite himself. “Neither do I.”

The tense atmosphere finally started to fade, though a moment later, a loud growl echoed through the hallway. Galahad’s ears twitched, and his face turned red as he clutched his stomach, embarrassed. “Um… I guess I’m hungry.”

Shadow’s smirk grew just a fraction, the remnants of his anger dissolving into something more manageable. “That much is obvious.”

“Can we have something tasty?” Galahad asked eagerly, his knightly persona briefly forgotten in favor of food. “Something a knight would eat!”

Shadow sighed, shaking his head as he turned toward the kitchen. “Knights eat whatever is prepared for them, Sir Galahad. You’ll get what I make.”

Galahad followed closely behind, undeterred. “Can we have dragon stew!?” 

“Dragon stew?” Shadow gave the boy a sidelong glance as he pulled open the fridge. “And where do you suggest I find a dragon in this dimension?”

Galahad tapped his chin, his imagination going into overdrive. “Maybe lady Rouge knows where to find one!”

Shadow grunted, shaking his head. “Rouge is the last person I’d trust with meal suggestions. Sit down. I’ll make something.”

Galahad hopped into one of the chairs at the small dining table, setting his toy sword on the surface like a knight laying down his weapon. “Okay…” 

Shadow began preparing a simple meal, though Galahad’s chatter continued unabated. The boy’s endless energy was a stark contrast to the silence Shadow was accustomed to, but for some reason, it didn’t bother him as much as he’d expected.

By the time the food was ready and placed in front of Galahad, the boy was already beaming, swinging his legs under the table. “Thanks, Dad! You’re the best cook ever!”

Shadow snorted softly, sitting down with his own plate. “Don’t push it, Sir Galahad.”

The boy’s laughter filled the room, and for a moment, the chaos of earlier felt like a distant memory.

Rouge flew through the sky with a smug grin on her face, the cool breeze of Station Square brushing against her fur. The video she recorded of Galahad and Shadow was priceless—not just for the sentimental value, but for the sheer entertainment it brought. She couldn’t wait to revisit it later and maybe even tease him a little more.

As she approached her apartment in one of the finer districts of Station Square, her eyes narrowed. Her door was broken and swinging slightly ajar, the splintered edges of the frame catching the faint glow of the streetlights.

“What the—?” she muttered, landing gracefully in front of the wreckage.

Rouge carefully pushed the door open further, her keen eyes scanning the room for any sign of movement. Her collection of rare jewels was untouched—glimmering and precisely where she’d left them. That set her more on edge. Whoever broke in wasn’t after valuables, and that made them unpredictable.

She cautiously made her way toward the living room, heels clicking softly against the floor. When she rounded the corner, she froze.

“Omega?!”

The massive robot stood in the center of her living room, towering over the couch. His glowing optics locked onto her as he greeted her in his typical monotone.

“ROUGE. YOU HAVE ARRIVED. EXCELLENT TIMING.”

Rouge’s shock quickly shifted to irritation. “What are you doing here, and more importantly, did you break my door?”

“I KNOCKED,” Omega said matter-of-factly. “YOU DID NOT ANSWER. I ENTERED.”

Rouge’s eye twitched. “You entered? Omega, when someone doesn’t answer the door, that means they’re not home!”

“ILL-DEFINED LOGIC. YOU WERE EXPECTED TO BE PRESENT.”

Rouge sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. “That’s not how it works, Omega. You can’t just break into someone’s home because you’re impatient!”

“CORRECTION: DOOR WAS FRAGILE. NOT MY FAULT.”

Rouge threw her hands up. “Ugh, you’re impossible! What do you want?”

Omega tilted his head slightly, his optics flickering for a moment. “QUERY: SHADOW’S NEW STATUS AS A CAREGIVER. CONFIRMATION REQUIRED.”

Rouge blinked, caught off guard. “Shadow’s what now?”

“SHADOW. PARENTAL FIGURE. EXPLAIN.”

Rouge chuckled, her irritation melting away into amusement. “Oh, Omega. You’re curious about our dear Shadow being Dad? Well, let me tell you—it’s been quite the sight. But why are you so interested?”

“SHADOW IS INEFFICIENT AT DISPLAYING EMOTION. THIS DEVELOPMENT IS HIGHLY UNLIKELY. I REQUIRE CLARIFICATION.”

Rouge smirked. “Oh, it’s real alright. And believe me, you’re not the only one who’s surprised.” She paused, looking at the broken door again. “But before we chat, you’re fixing my door. And then you can ask all the questions you want.”

“ACCEPTABLE TERMS,” Omega replied, already scanning the room for materials to begin repairs.

Rouge shook her head, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Only you, Omega. Only you.”

Despite Omega’s intimidating stature and designation as a killer robot, he surprisingly managed to fix Rouge’s door with precision. The door stood as good as new—almost.

Omega stepped back, observing his handiwork. “REPAIR COMPLETE. HOWEVER, THIS DOOR IS WEAK. EASILY BREACHED AGAIN UNDER MINIMAL FORCE.”

Rouge crossed her arms, unimpressed. “I don’t care about your analysis, Omega. It’s a door, not a vault.”

Omega’s optics flickered. “YOUR LACK OF SECURITY IS NOTED.”

Rolling her eyes, Rouge changed the subject. “Alright, big guy, how did you even find out about Shadow’s new situation? This isn’t exactly common knowledge.”

“ACCESSING G.U.N. DATABASE,” Omega said bluntly. “SHADOW’S FILE WAS UPDATED RECENTLY. STATUS: PARENT. ADDITIONAL INVESTIGATION REVEALED SUBJECT IDENTIFIED AS ‘GALAHAD.’ MATCHES DESCRIPTION OF THE HEDGEHOG RECOVERED DURING THE LAST MISSION.”

Rouge’s eyes widened slightly before she stifled a laugh. “So you’re telling me G.U.N. has officially listed Shadow as a parent now?”

“CONFIRMED,” Omega replied. “HOWEVER, THE TIMELINE IS CONFUSING. QUERY: WHEN DID SHADOW REPRODUCE?”

Rouge couldn’t hold back her laughter this time. She clutched her sides, tears nearly forming in her eyes. “Oh, Omega, that’s rich. Let me clear this up for you. Technically, yes, Shadow is Galahad’s father—genetically speaking. But it’s not what you’re thinking. Galahad is from another dimension. Shadow from that world is his father.”

Omega paused, his optics dimming as he processed the information. “CONCLUSION: GENETIC RELATION EXISTS. SHADOW’S ROLE AS PARENT IN THIS UNIVERSE IS ACCEPTED. HOWEVER, CLASSIFIED INFORMATION CREATES INEFFICIENCY.”

Rouge smirked. “Yeah, yeah. It’s classified. But the gist of it is, Shadow’s taken on the role of Galahad’s dad here. G.U.N.’s just covering all bases, I guess.”

“INFORMATION PROCESSED. OBSERVATION REQUIRED.” Omega’s tone shifted slightly, a hint of dissatisfaction creeping into his usually monotone voice. “FRUSTRATION: I WAS NOT INFORMED IMMEDIATELY. TEAM CHANGES SHOULD BE REPORTED TO ALL MEMBERS.”

Rouge waved a hand dismissively. “Oh, don’t take it personally, big guy. I don’t think Shadow even wanted this out in the open yet.”

“UNACCEPTABLE. TEAM MEMBERS MUST BE INFORMED OF SIGNIFICANT SHIFTS IN DYNAMIC. LACK OF INFORMATION HINDERS EFFICIENCY.”

Rouge shook her head, still grinning. “Speaking of inefficiency, why are you here bothering me about this instead of going straight to Shadow?”

Omega’s optics locked onto her. “SHADOW’S RESIDENTIAL ADDRESS IS CLASSIFIED. YOU ARE THE ONLY TEAM MEMBER WITH KNOWLEDGE OF HIS LOCATION.”

Rouge blinked, then let out a loud laugh. “Oh, so that’s why you broke into my place? Because you didn’t know where Shadow lived?”

“CORRECT,” Omega replied, his tone flat but unwavering. “FRUSTRATION INTENSIFIES: SHADOW DID NOT INFORM ME OF THIS DEVELOPMENT PERSONALLY.”

Rouge wiped a tear from her eye, still chuckling. “Well, don’t feel too bad. He’s probably just as confused about this whole parenting thing as you are.”

Omega tilted his head. “SHADOW’S CONFUSION DOES NOT EXCUSE FAILURE TO UPDATE TEAM MEMBERS. ADAPTATION REQUIRED.”

Rouge patted Omega on the arm. “Alright, big guy, I get it. But if you want answers, you’ll have to take it up with Shadow himself.“

Omega loomed near the repaired door, his imposing frame casting a long shadow across the room. “I HAVE GATHERED SUFFICIENT INFORMATION FROM YOU. HOWEVER, I REMAIN HIGHLY UNSATISFIED. SHADOW LEFT ME OUT OF THIS DEVELOPMENT. UNACCEPTABLE.”

Rouge tilted her head, studying the robot with a smirk. “Aw, Omega, are you saying your feelings are hurt?”

“NEGATIVE. FEELINGS ARE IRRELEVANT. IT IS A MATTER OF TEAM COHESION AND PROTOCOL. SHADOW’S FAILURE TO INFORM ME OF HIS OFFSPRING IS A BREACH OF TEAM DYNAMICS.”

Rouge sighed, leaning back against the wall. “Look, big guy, I get it. This is a huge change for Shadow. Trust me, he’s still figuring it out himself. He probably didn’t mean to leave you out.”

“INTENTION IS IRRELEVANT,” Omega replied, his tone slightly sharper. “I DEMAND TO MEET SHADOW’S OFFSPRING OFFICIALLY.”

Rouge folded her arms, her smirk returning. “Oh, you do, huh? Well, good luck with that. Shadow doesn’t exactly roll out the red carpet for anyone. You’re gonna have to wait your turn.”

Omega’s optics brightened slightly. “I REQUIRE PROOF OF THIS DEVELOPMENT. ADDITIONAL OBSERVATION NECESSARY.”

Rouge chuckled, her expression turning mischievous. “Proof, huh? Well, lucky for you, I happen to have something.”

Omega turned to face her fully. “EXPLAIN.”

With a flourish, Rouge pulled out her communicator and tapped a few buttons. “You see, I recorded Shadow and Galahad earlier. Thought it might come in handy as… let’s call it insurance. Or blackmail material, if we’re being honest.”

She pressed play, and the holographic screen projected the scene: Galahad, announcing his quest to protect his dad with beaming smile that eventually led with him hugging Shadow tightly. Shadow, flustered but accepting, awkwardly returned the embrace. The video ended with Shadow asking coldly if Rouge was recording. 

Omega stared at the screen silently, his optics flickering as he processed the footage. “FRUSTRATION LEVEL: INCREASED. THIS WAS A CRUCIAL MOMENT, AND I WAS NOT PRESENT. UNACCEPTABLE.”

Rouge shrugged, a sly grin on her face. “Well, what can I say? You snooze, you lose.”

“DEMAND: THIS VIDEO MUST BE POSTED IMMEDIATELY. SHADOW LEFT ME OUT. THIS INJUSTICE REQUIRES RECTIFICATION.”

Rouge raised an eyebrow. “Post it? You’re serious?”

“CONFIRMED. THE PUBLIC SHOULD KNOW OF THIS EVENT IF I WAS NOT ALLOWED TO PARTICIPATE.”

Rouge laughed, shaking her head. “You’re something else, Omega. But you know, you’ve got a point. It’s not like this will stay a secret forever. Half the city already saw them during the shopping trip. And those people probably filmed it, too.”

She leaned closer, her grin turning wicked. “But none of them got this adorable little scene of Galahad being a knight and hugging Shadow. That’s exclusive content, right here.”

Omega’s optics glowed brighter. “CONCURRENCE. SHADOW WILL FACE THE CONSEQUENCES OF OMITTING ME.”

Rouge smirked, closing the communicator. “Alright, alright. I’ll think about it. But only because it’ll be fun to see Shadow’s face when this gets out.”

Omega turned toward the door, his posture stiff. “ENSURE THE FOOTAGE IS DISTRIBUTED. IF NOT, I WILL TAKE ACTION.”

Rouge rolled her eyes, waving him off. “Yeah, yeah, I’ll handle it. Now go on, big guy. I need to get some beauty sleep.”

“ACKNOWLEDGED,” Omega replied, stepping out.

As the door closed behind him, Rouge had a satisfied smile on her face. “Oh, Shadow, you’re in for a real treat when this goes public.”

Chapter Text

The Chaotix Detective Agency’s modest office was unusually quiet, save for the rhythmic tapping of keys as Charmy the Bee scrolled through the internet on his laptop. Papers were strewn across desks, the faint smell of Vector’s coffee lingered in the air, and the soft hum of the ceiling fan filled the room. Charmy hovered in front of his screen, his bright yellow face illuminated by the glow. His antennas twitched with curiosity as he scrolled past headlines until something caught his eye.

“Whoa… What’s this?” he mumbled, leaning closer. His wide eyes locked onto a tweet from Rouge the Bat, accompanied by a grainy yet unmistakable video.

BREAKING NEWS: Shadow the Hedgehog has a son! The tweet read. Omega and I are happy to announce Galahad the hedgehog son of Shadow the hedgehog. 

Charmy’s jaw dropped as the video began to play. In it, Galahad, announcing his quest to protect his dad with beaming smile that eventually led with him hugging Shadow tightly. Shadow, flustered but accepting, awkwardly returned the embrace. The video ended with Shadow asking coldly if Rouge was recording. 

“WHAT?! SHADOW HAS A SON?!” Charmy shouted, his wings buzzing so loudly that they drowned out the video’s audio. “No way, no way, no way! This is HUGE!”

The video ended, and Charmy clicked on another linked video that captured other scenes of Shadow and Galahad. Civilians in the background whispered and gasped as the supposed Ultimate Lifeform showed a side of himself no one had ever seen. Charmy’s excitement grew with every replay, and soon, the buzzing became unbearable for the room’s other occupant.

“Charmy, what’s all the racket?!” Vector grumbled from his spot on the couch. The crocodile was lounging with his headphones on, eyes half-closed as he enjoyed a rare moment of peace. His annoyance deepened as Charmy darted into the room like a lightning bolt.

“Vector! VECTOR! You won’t believe it!” Charmy yelled, buzzing in circles around the couch.

Vector groaned, sitting up and rubbing his temples. “Charmy, if this is another one of your ‘big discoveries’ like the time you thought Knuckles started a taco stand, I swear—”

“No, no, this is REAL! It’s on the internet, so it has to be true!” Charmy insisted, thrusting his laptop toward Vector’s face. “Shadow has a SON! His name’s Galahad! Rouge and Omega told everyone!”

Vector squinted at the screen, trying to process the flood of words as Charmy zipped around the room. “What are you talkin’ about? Shadow’s got a kid? That’s gotta be a joke.”

“It’s not a joke! Look, there’s videos! People are freaking out! It’s trending worldwide!”

Charmy’s excitement became a blur of movement. He darted from one corner of the room to the next, accidentally knocking over a framed photo of the Chaotix team in the process. The crash of glass hitting the floor made Vector jump to his feet.

“CHARMY!” Vector roared, his fists clenching as he stared at the mess. “You better calm down before I—”

“But this is HUGE!” Charmy interrupted, buzzing faster. “Shadow has a kid! A real kid! His name’s Galahad, and he’s ADORABLE!”

Before Vector could properly explode, Espio the Chameleon entered the room, his calm demeanor contrasting sharply with the chaos. He raised an eyebrow as he surveyed the scene: Charmy flitting around like a bee on sugar, Vector towering over a broken photo frame, and a laptop precariously balanced on the couch.

“What’s going on?” Espio asked, his voice level but curious.

Vector threw his hands up. “You tell me! Charmy’s been bouncin’ off the walls yellin’ somethin’ about Shadow and a kid.”

Espio turned to Charmy, who zoomed over and thrust the laptop in his direction. “Look! LOOK!”

Espio leaned closer, his sharp eyes narrowing as he took in the video. The image of Shadow and the small hedgehog embracing lingered in his mind. For a moment, Espio said nothing, his expression unreadable.

Finally, he spoke. “Is this… legitimate?”

“Yes! It’s on Rouge’s official account!” Charmy exclaimed.

Vector grabbed the laptop and scrolled through the accompanying text. His deep voice rumbled as he read aloud: “Omega and I are happy to announce Galahad the hedgehog son of Shadow the hedgehog.”

He looked up, his jaw slightly agape. “Shadow’s gonna blow a gasket when he sees this. You can tell he wasn’t on board with this announcement.”

Espio nodded thoughtfully. “It’s… unexpected, to say the least. But if it’s true, it explains the resemblance.”

Charmy buzzed around them, unable to contain his excitement. “Isn’t it AMAZING?! Shadow, the grumpiest guy in the universe, has a little hoglet for a son!”

Vector groaned, rubbing his temples again. “This is too much to take in all at once. Shadow with a kid? How’s that even happen?”

Espio’s brow furrowed in thought as he replayed the video in his mind. “It’s hard to say, but the child looks to be about two or three years old. I’m honestly impressed that Shadow managed to keep something like this under wraps for so long…”

Charmy grinned ear to ear. “Can I go tell everyone else first? This is the biggest scoop of the year!”

“No way,” Vector said firmly. “We’re not spreadin’ rumors until we get the facts straight. Besides…” He gestured to the broken frame. “You’ve got cleanin’ to do.”

“Aww, come on!” Charmy whined.

Espio sighed, shaking his head. “This is going to be an interesting week.”

The three stared at the screen, where the video looped once more, the sight of Shadow and Galahad sparking a flurry of questions none of them could answer just yet.

The warm morning sun streamed through the windows of Vanilla’s cozy kitchen, casting a soft glow on the neatly set table. The smell of freshly baked bread and chamomile tea lingered in the air as Vanilla finished the last bite of her toast. Across from her, Cream happily sipped on a glass of milk, her small hands cradling the cup, while Cheese the Chao hovered nearby, occasionally chirping contentedly as he nibbled on a fruit slice.

“It’s such a lovely day, isn’t it, Cream?” Vanilla said, her voice gentle and calm as she set her plate aside.

“It is, Mama!” Cream beamed, her cheerful demeanor lighting up the room. Cheese chirped in agreement, flapping his tiny wings.

Just then, a soft chime interrupted the peaceful scene. Vanilla’s phone buzzed with a notification, the screen lighting up with an alert. Picking it up, she tapped to open the message, her expression shifting to one of curiosity.

“Hm, what’s this…?” she murmured, her brow furrowing slightly. The notification led her to a tweet from Rouge, prominently displayed with a video attached. Vanilla hesitated for a moment before pressing play.

Vanilla’s eyes widened as she watched the interaction unfold.

“Oh my…” Vanilla whispered, lowering the phone as she processed what she’d just seen. “Shadow… has a child?”

Cream perked up at her mother’s tone, her large ears twitching with curiosity. “What is it, Mama? What happened?”

Vanilla gave her daughter a soft smile, though her expression still carried hints of surprise. “It seems Shadow has a son, Cream. His name is Galahad. He looks to be about two or three years old.”

Cream’s eyes widened with delight, and she clapped her hands together. “Shadow has a son? Oh, how wonderful! Mama, can we meet him? Please?”

Vanilla chuckled softly, placing a reassuring hand on Cream’s shoulder. “I don’t know if that will be possible yet, dear. Shadow isn’t exactly the easiest person to reach, and I’m sure he has his hands full with young Galahad.”

“But maybe we could try?” Cream asked, her excitement bubbling over as Cheese twirled in the air, mirroring her enthusiasm. “I bet Galahad would love to play with Cheese and me!”

Vanilla smiled warmly at her daughter’s innocent optimism, though her thoughts were more measured. “I know you’d love to meet him, Cream, but it’s best not to get our hopes up, Shadow is very private.”

Cream’s ears drooped slightly, but she nodded. “Okay, Mama….”

Vanilla nodded, tucking a stray lock of fur behind her ear. “Let’s give Shadow and Galahad some time. I’m sure they have a lot to adjust to with all this attention.”

As Cream resumed playing with Cheese, Vanilla glanced back at her phone. The tweet from Rouge had already gone viral, with countless comments speculating about Shadow’s unexpected role as a father.

“I do hope Rouge knows what she’s done by posting that,” Vanilla murmured to herself, setting the phone down with a sigh. 

Still, Vanilla couldn’t help but feel a touch of warmth as she thought about the sight of Shadow and Galahad together. “Perhaps this will be good for him,” she mused quietly, her gaze drifting out the window to the bright, sunny day.

The morning sun bathed Angel Island in golden light, illuminating the lush greenery and cascading waterfalls surrounding the Master Emerald’s altar. The air was crisp and warm, with a soft breeze rustling through the trees, carrying the distant sound of chirping birds and the rush of water.

Knuckles the Echidna stood on the wide stone platform of the altar, his crimson fur vibrant against the pale marble. He rested his hands on his hips, gazing up at the clear blue sky. “It’s a nice weather today,” he muttered, his deep voice breaking the serene silence.

The soft morning light filtered through the curtains of Amy Rose’s cozy apartment, casting a warm glow over the neatly arranged space. Her favorite teapot rested on the stove, filling the air with the faint aroma of freshly brewed green tea. The pink hedgehog was curled up on her floral-patterned couch, scrolling through her phone absentmindedly as the soft hum of the city buzzed outside.

She paused mid-scroll when a familiar name caught her eye on a trending headline:

BREAKING: SHADOW THE HEDGEHOG HAS A SON—INTRODUCING GALAHAD!

Amy blinked in disbelief, her green eyes widening as she tapped the article. The tweet that accompanied the news showed a video posted by Rouge the Bat.

Amy stared at her phone, the video replaying in her mind. She scrolled down to see other linked videos—candid clips of Shadow and Galahad walking through the city, Galahad eagerly pointing out buildings and people with Shadow beside him with his usual stoic expression.

Her brows knitted together as she absorbed the news. “So, it’s finally out,” she murmured. 

She leaned back against the couch, her thoughts racing. The idea of Shadow, of all people, having a child was shocking enough. But what truly surprised her was the way the news had come out. It was clear from the video—and the icy tone in Shadow’s voice—that he hadn’t consented to Rouge’s public announcement.

Amy sighed, running a hand through her quills. “I feel kind of bad for him,” she admitted to herself. “This is such a personal thing, and now the whole world knows. Poor Shadow… he must be furious.”

Her gaze lingered on the phone screen, the image of Galahad’s beaming face frozen in the thumbnail. Despite her sympathy for Shadow’s situation, another thought crept into her mind, one that left her feeling a little frustrated.

“But why didn’t he tell anyone before?” she wondered aloud, her tone tinged with annoyance. “Two or three years… and not a word? We’ve been through so much together, and he never mentioned this?”

The thought irked her, though she quickly brushed it aside. She knew Shadow wasn’t exactly an open book—he preferred to keep his personal life, and his emotions, locked away. Still, this felt like a secret too big to keep.

Amy set her phone down on the coffee table, her fingers idly tapping against the polished wood. As her initial surprise and frustration began to settle, curiosity took its place.

“I wonder how Sonic’s going to react to this,” she mused, a small smile tugging at her lips.

Her mind conjured up an image of Sonic, arms crossed and brows raised, trying to process the idea of Shadow as a father. The thought made her chuckle softly.

“Sonic’s probably going to look for Shadow,” she said to herself, picking up her teacup and taking a sip. “Or maybe he’ll just laugh it off.”

The morning sun poured through the large windows of Tails’ workshop, bathing the space in golden light. The hum of various machines and gadgets filled the air, accompanied by the faint rustling of papers scattered across the workbench. Tails sat at his desk, eyes glued to the screen of his laptop. His twin tails twitched in excitement as he scrolled through the trending headlines, his mouth slightly agape.

There it was, dominating every major news feed: SHADOW THE HEDGEHOG HAS A SON! Meet Galahad!

The accompanying tweet from Rouge read:

“Omega and I are happy to announce Galahad the hedgehog son of Shadow the hedgehog.”

The video embedded in the post had already gone viral. Tails clicked play again, unable to process the scene unfolding before him. Shadow acting so affectionate even hugging the tiny hoglet. 

Tails shook his head in disbelief. “I can’t believe it… Shadow, a dad?”

The sound of the workshop door swinging open pulled him from his thoughts. Sonic strode in, stretching lazily. “Yo, Tails! Man, it’s quiet out there. Eggman’s been off the radar for weeks now.”

Tails glanced up, still processing the news.

Sonic flopped onto a nearby chair and crossed his arms behind his head. “Seriously, I’m bored out of my mind. Nothing exciting’s happening. I think I’ll do my morning run—get the adrenaline going, y’know?”

Tails quickly sat up, his tails twitching. “Wait, Sonic! I just found out something you really need to see.”

Sonic groaned, sliding off the chair. “Can it wait? I’ve been cooped up for too long. I need to stretch my legs before I lose it.”

Tails raised an eyebrow. “Trust me, if I don’t tell you now, you’ll just get grumpy when you find out later and complain about it nonstop.”

That caught Sonic’s attention. He turned toward Tails, a hint of curiosity lighting up his green eyes. “Oh yeah? What’s so important that it can’t wait?”

Without a word, Tails spun his laptop around to face Sonic. The screen displayed Rouge’s tweet and the accompanying video. “This,” Tails said simply. “It’s worldwide news.”

Sonic leaned forward, squinting at the screen. As the video played, his jaw slowly dropped. “Is that—”

“Shadow,” Tails confirmed.

“And the kid? He’s calling Shadow… ‘Dad’?” Sonic’s voice rose in disbelief.

“His name is Galahad,” Tails explained. “And yeah, he’s Shadow’s son. It’s all over the internet.”

The video played through, and Sonic remained glued to the screen, his expression shifting from shock to something closer to amazement. When it ended, he leaned back, running a hand through his quills.

“Okay, I did not see that coming,” Sonic said, shaking his head. “Shadow. A dad. Who knew he had it in him?”

Tails chuckled. “I’m just as surprised as you are. But honestly? It’s kind of sweet.”

Sonic grinned, his shock giving way to excitement. “Sweet? It’s awesome! A little child calling Shadow ‘Dad’? I’ve gotta meet this kid.”

Tails laughed at Sonic’s enthusiasm. “Well, judging by how viral this has gone, you might not have to wait long. Everyone’s probably trying to track them down.”

Sonic stood up, his earlier boredom forgotten. “Man, this changes everything. Shadow with a kid… Who knew he had a soft side? I bet he’s gonna be even more uptight now, though.”

Tails smirked. “Probably. But I think Galahad might be good for him.”

Sonic tapped a finger to his chin, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “You think Shadow would let me meet him? Or would he try to kill me first?”

Tails shook his head with a laugh. “Knowing you, you’d push every button he has to a point he threatens to kill you.”

“That’s half the fun,” Sonic quipped. “But seriously, this is huge. We’ve gotta find a way to meet Galahad. I wanna see if the kid’s got Shadow’s scowl or if he’s actually, y’know, normal.”

Tails smiled, watching as Sonic’s excitement filled the room. It wasn’t the usual adventure or battle that sparked Sonic’s energy, but this unexpected twist had certainly shaken things up—and neither of them could wait to see where it led.

The dim, metallic glow of Dr. Eggman’s laboratory cast long shadows across the walls. Rows of monitors hummed quietly, each displaying streams of data and schematics. At the center of the room, Eggman loomed over a containment pod holding a shard of the Phantom Ruby, its pulsating red glow the only vibrant color in the otherwise sterile environment.

Eggman’s thick fingers adjusted a set of dials as he muttered to himself. “The energy’s stabilizing… Yes, yes… If I can amplify this resonance, the power output will be unstoppable!” He let out a gleeful laugh that echoed through the lab.

Suddenly, a shrill alert blared from a nearby console. Eggman flinched, scowling. “What now?” he growled, snapping his head toward the offending screen. His AI was programmed to interrupt him only for matters of high importance, so he begrudgingly stepped away from the containment pod.

As he approached the console, the alert resolved into a notification: Priority Update—Rouge the Bat’s Tweet Trending Worldwide. Eggman’s brow furrowed. “Rouge? Trending?” He tapped the screen, and the tweet opened, revealing a video.

Eggman’s expression froze as he watched the scene unfold, his eyes narrowing in thought.

Almost instantly, additional windows popped up on the monitors, automatically pulled from Eggman’s spy network. The screens filled with dossiers, genetic data, and analysis reports. The AI confirmed it: the child, Galahad, was biologically Shadow’s son.

Eggman leaned back in his chair, stroking his mustache. “Shadow, a father? Hah! I always suspected one of them might spawn someday, but this… This is sooner than I expected. And to think, I didn’t hear a peep about this until it went public.” He shook his head, grumbling. “I’ll need to recalibrate my spy network. This kind of oversight is unacceptable.”

His musings were interrupted by the soft hiss of the lab door sliding open. Heavy, deliberate footsteps echoed across the metal floor as Zero the Jackal entered. Eggman didn’t bother turning around; he recognized the sound immediately.

“Zero,” Eggman said without looking up, his tone calm but expectant. “You’re right on time. Report.”

Zero stepped forward, his eyes scanned the room briefly before locking onto Eggman. “We’ve located the general areas for the remaining Phantom Ruby shards,” Zero reported, his voice even and precise. “It’s not exact, but my men are searching as we speak.”

Eggman smirked, finally swiveling in his chair to face his subordinate. “Not exact, but close enough. Good work, Zero. Let your men comb through the areas thoroughly. The shards will be ours soon enough.”

Zero gave a small nod, but his gaze was drawn to the monitors behind Eggman. The image of Galahad hugging Shadow was frozen on one of the screens, while other monitors displayed lines of genetic data and additional video clips of the young hedgehog. Zero’s eyes narrowed slightly.

“Who’s the hoglet?” he asked, his voice carrying a note of curiosity.

Eggman turned back to the monitor, his mustache curling into a sly grin. “Ah, that, my dear Zero, is Galahad the Hedgehog—Shadow’s son. A legitimate offspring, as confirmed by my spy ai.”

Zero’s expression didn’t change, but his eyes lingered on the image. “Shadow has a son? Is this something we need to be concerned about?”

Eggman let out a laugh, waving a dismissive hand. “Not concern, no. Quite the opposite, in fact. If anything, this revelation works in our favor. Shadow’s attachment to this boy will only serve as a distraction. He’ll be too preoccupied playing daddy to interfere with my plans.”

Zero’s gaze lingered on the monitor, his crimson eyes narrowing as he studied the image. “And if he’s not distracted?”

Eggman’s grin widened, his tone turning colder. “Then he’s revealed a weakness—a very exploitable one. If push comes to shove, we know exactly where to hit him where it hurts most.”

Zero’s lips twitched into the faintest hint of a smirk as he nodded. “Understood.”

“Precisely,” Eggman said, turning back to his workbench. “Now, let’s focus on the task at hand. The Phantom Ruby is the key to everything, and with it, nothing will stand in our way.”

Zero turned to leave, but his eyes flicked back to the monitor one last time before the lab door slid shut behind him. The faint hum of machinery resumed, filling the room as Eggman returned to his analysis, his laughter echoing once more through the lab.

Chapter Text

Shadow woke to the feel of something soft pressed against his face. He cracked one crimson eye open and was greeted by the sight of a blue hedgehog plushie—its bright grin staring mockingly back at him. He narrowed his eyes, recognizing the offending toy as Arthur, the Sonic plushie Galahad had insisted on bringing into bed the previous night.

For a moment, Shadow simply glared at it, willing it to move, but when it didn’t budge, irritation won out. Without a second thought, he grabbed the plushie and tossed it across the room. It struck the wall with a muffled thud before tumbling to the floor.

A sleepy murmur beside him made Shadow freeze. Galahad stirred, blinking groggily as he sat up. Shadow grimaced internally, silently chastising himself for his impulsiveness. Brilliant move, Shadow. Wake the kid over a toy.

“Where’s Arthur?” Galahad asked, rubbing his eyes and looking around the bed. He didn’t seem upset, just confused as he patted the sheets.

Shadow cleared his throat. “Sonic went flying.”

Galahad gasped, his sleepy eyes widening in wonder. “Arthur can fly?”

“No,” Shadow replied dryly, gesturing toward the wall. “That’s why he crashed.”

The boy’s face twisted in surprise before he crawled out of bed, padding over to where the plushie lay slumped against the wall. He scooped it up and hugged it tightly. “Poor Arthur,” Galahad murmured, pressing his cheek against the toy as though comforting it.

Shadow swung his legs off the bed and stood, stretching briefly before turning to Galahad. “Come on. Time for breakfast.”

“Okay,” Galahad said brightly, holding onto Sonic as he followed Shadow to the kitchen.

The morning passed peacefully. Shadow prepared a simple breakfast—scrambled eggs and toast—and Galahad ate quietly, swinging his legs from the chair and sneaking bits of food to Arthur, as though the plushie were also participating.

Shadow found himself unexpectedly grateful for the boy’s easygoing nature. Galahad didn’t complain or fuss; he simply followed Shadow’s lead, eager to please. The calm, domestic moment gave Shadow a sense of relief.

Yet, as they finished eating, Shadow deliberately avoided glancing at his communicator or checking any news feeds. Rouge had a habit of stirring things up, and he wouldn’t put it past her to have posted that video of Galahad calling him “Dad.” If social media or the news was abuzz about it, Shadow wasn’t in the mood to deal with it—not this early in the morning.

Instead, he focused on clearing the table, noting how Galahad hummed softly as he set Arthur on the counter to help carry his empty plate.

Shadow stiffened at the sound of a knock on his door. His sharp crimson eyes snapped toward the source, narrowing into a deadly glare. The only person who would dare knock at this hour was Rouge. His jaw tightened as yesterday’s frustration surged to the surface—the video, the teasing, and her smug threat to post it all online.

He hadn’t forgiven her for yesterday’s antics. Shadow’s quills bristled at the memory, standing on edge like a warning sign. He stomped toward the door, each step deliberate and heavy, the feet thudding against the floor. His fur was still in disarray, and his quills stuck out in chaotic angles, Shadow didn’t care. Rouge had seen him at his worst. If she thought she could waltz in unscathed after her stunt, she had another thing coming.

Gripping the doorknob with more force than necessary, Shadow yanked the door open and immediately began to growl. “Rouge, you’re really bold showing up here so soon after—”

His words died in his throat.

Standing on the other side of the door wasn’t Rouge.

It was Sonic.

Shadow’s eyes widened briefly before narrowing in disbelief. He blinked, stunned into silence. Sonic was the last person he expected to see, and the fact that the blue hedgehog had somehow found his home was deeply unsettling.

Sonic, meanwhile, stood leaning casually against the doorframe, arms crossed, a smug grin plastered across his face. His emerald eyes sparkled with amusement as he took in the sight of Shadow’s disheveled appearance. “Wow,” Sonic said, dragging out the word with exaggerated delight. “Did I catch you at a bad time? Or is this just your new look?”

Shadow’s mouth twitched, but no retort came. Sonic’s grin widened, clearly relishing the rare opportunity to see the usually composed Shadow so unprepared. “Man, I gotta say, I never thought I’d see the day,” Sonic continued, chuckling. “This is gold. If I had a camera right now…”

Shadow snapped out of his stupor, his glare returning with full force. “What are you doing here?” he demanded, his voice sharp and cold. “And how do you know where I live?”

Sonic shrugged, unfazed by the hostile tone. “I’ve got my ways,” he replied cryptically, his grin never wavering. “Relax, Shads, just thought I’d drop by, see how you’re doing. You know, being neighborly.”

Shadow pinched the bridge of his nose, exhaling slowly through his nostrils. “We are not neighbors. And I certainly don’t need you showing up unannounced.”

“Aw, c’mon,” Sonic said, stepping inside uninvited. “You’re not still mad about yesterday, are you?”

Shadow blinked. “Yesterday? What do you know about yesterday?”

Sonic’s grin faltered for a fraction of a second before he plastered it back on. “Oh, you know, words get around,” he said breezily. “Let’s not forget the video floating around on the net of you looking all soft and cuddly with a kid—Rouge deserves the credit for that.”

Shadow’s eyes flashed dangerously. “She posted it?”

“Your secret is out, yup.” Sonic grinned knowing he was treading dangerous grounds. “So you’re a dad huh. Where is the kid?”

Shadow growled low in his throat, his fists clenching at his sides. “You have three seconds to leave before I personally remove you.”

But Sonic just waved him off, his laughter still echoing as he leaned casually against the wall. “Nah, I think I’ll stick around for a bit. This is way too much fun.”

Shadow’s patience snapped. His crimson eyes burned with fury as he took a step toward Sonic, fully prepared to make good on his threat. One hand reached out, intent on grabbing Sonic by the scruff and hurling him out the door.

But before he could follow through, a small voice called out from the kitchen.

“Dad? Who is it?”

Shadow froze mid-step, his outstretched hand hovering in the air. He turned his head slightly toward the kitchen, his expression softening just a fraction. Sonic’s smug grin widened at the reaction, clearly intrigued.

The sound of light footsteps padding across the floor drew their attention as Galahad appeared in the doorway. The boy clutched his prized Sonic plushie tightly against his chest, its soft blue fur squished beneath his arms.

At first, Galahad didn’t notice Sonic, his golden eyes focused on Shadow. “Who’s at the—” His words cut off abruptly as he spotted the blue hedgehog standing next to his father. His jaw dropped, and his eyes went as wide as saucers.

Sonic raised an eyebrow, his grin deepening when his gaze shifted to the plushie in Galahad’s arms. The sight of himself as a toy, being hugged so affectionately by Shadow’s son, was almost too much. A snort escaped him, and he covered his mouth to stifle the laughter threatening to burst free.

Shadow stiffened further, his fists tightening at his sides as he glanced between Sonic and Galahad. The heavy silence that followed was agonizing.

Galahad, still gaping, finally managed to squeak out, “You’re him!” His voice trembled with awe, and his grip on the plushie tightened.

Before Shadow or Sonic could react, Galahad dropped to his knees right there in the doorway, bowing his head low. “YourMajestyit’sthegreatesthonorofmylifetomeetyou! You’retheherooflegendtheonewho’ssavedcountlessworlds! Ican’tbelieveit!”

Galahad’s words tumbled out in a rapid, frantic stream, his excitement carrying him far beyond coherence. He began blurting out comments and praises too fast for anyone to follow.

“You’resofastandbraveandstrong. Ican’t believeyou’rereal! Imean, knewyouwerereal, butseeingyouis—thisisthebestdayofmylife!”

Shadow pinched the bridge of his nose, the tips of his ears burning with embarrassment. “Galahad,” he said sharply, his deep voice cutting through the boy’s rambling.

Galahad ignored him, still staring up at Sonic with stars in his eyes.

“Galahad.” This time, Shadow’s tone was sterner, and he reached down to grab the boy by his arm, gently but firmly pulling him to his feet. “What are you doing? Stand up straight and stop embarrassing yourself.”

“But Dad, it’s him!” Galahad whined, clutching the Sonic plushie tighter as if for emphasis. “The greatest hero, The—”

“Enough,” Shadow snapped, though his voice carried an undercurrent of discomfort rather than anger.

Galahad finally quieted, though he continued to stare at Sonic with unrestrained excitement. Shadow, meanwhile, looked like he wanted the floor to open up and swallow him whole.

Sonic, for his part, was utterly delighted. Crossing his arms with a smug smirk that practically radiated amusement. “Wow,” he drawled, his tone dripping with glee. “I mean, I’ve met fans before, but this? This is next level.”

Shadow shot him a glare that could’ve melted steel. “Don’t start.”

“Oh, I’m just saying,” Sonic said, feigning innocence. “I definitely didn’t expect your kid to be my number-one fan.”

Shadow groaned, running a hand down his face. Galahad, meanwhile, had started bouncing slightly on his heels, his excitement bubbling over again.

Sonic tilted his head slightly, his emerald eyes twinkling with curiosity and mischief. “So, kid,” he began, still leaning casually against the doorframe, “what’s got you so hyped up about me? Did your father tell you all about my legendary heroics?”

At that, Galahad’s face lit up even brighter, his enthusiasm palpable as he nodded eagerly. “He did! Father told me all about you!”

Sonic’s smug grin grew wider, and he shifted his gaze to Shadow, who was standing stiffly nearby, looking like he wanted to vanish into thin air. “Oh, really?” Sonic said, dragging out the words as his grin took on an almost predatory edge. “What exactly has he been saying about me?”

Galahad, oblivious to Shadow’s mounting embarrassment, clutched his Sonic plushie and launched into an excited spiel. “He said you’re the greatest hero in history!” Galahad declared, his voice filled with awe. “That you’ve saved the world more times than anyone else, and that no one can match your bravery!”

Shadow’s ears flattened against his head, his crimson eyes darting away as though avoiding Sonic’s gaze would somehow save him from embarrassment. Sonic didn’t know that father meant Lancelot, not Shadow, and he couldn’t explain that without revealing classified information. 

Sonic, on the other hand, looked like he’d just won the lottery. “No way,” he said, feigning shock while his grin only grew. “He said that about me?”

Galahad nodded earnestly. “Oh, yes! He said you’ve faced the most dangerous enemies and won every time, and that you’re unstoppable! And—” He paused dramatically, his golden eyes wide with reverence. “He said you’re the fastest thing alive!”

That last comment caught Sonic off guard. His grin faltered for a split second, replaced by a flicker of genuine surprise. Then it returned, brighter and smugger than ever. “Hah!” Sonic exclaimed, shooting Shadow an amused glance. “Did you now?”

Shadow looked utterly mortified. His fists clenched at his sides, and his teeth were grinding audibly. 

Sonic wasn’t about to let this golden opportunity go. “But wait,” he said, his voice dripping with mock innocence as he crouched down to Galahad’s level. “Did your father also tell you if he’s ever beaten me in a race?”

At that, Galahad giggled, the sound light and carefree. “Oh, no,” he said cheerfully. “Father hasn’t won a single race against you!”

Sonic threw his head back, laughing so hard he nearly doubled over. “This just keeps getting better!” he said between laughs, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye. “Shadow, buddy, I didn’t know you held me in such high regard. Keeping all this admiration a secret, huh? But telling your kid? That’s adorable.”

Shadow’s face burned with humiliation, a faint green tint visible under his black fur. He looked like he was caught between wanting to throw Sonic out the door and wanting to sink into the floor.

“That’s enough, Galahad,” Shadow finally snapped, his deep voice sharp and commanding.

“But dad,” Galahad protested, looking genuinely confused. “It’s all true and—”

“Enough,” Shadow growled, his tone leaving no room for argument.

The room fell into an awkward silence, though Sonic clearly wasn’t fazed. He straightened up, his grin as smug as ever as he patted Galahad on the head. “Kid, you’re alright,” he said warmly. Then he glanced back at Shadow, his grin practically glowing. “Thanks for the ego boost, Shads. I’ll be savoring this one for a long time.”

Shadow groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Sonic leaned casually against the wall, arms crossed, his trademark smirk stretched wide across his face. He was having the time of his life. “You know, Shads,” he began, his tone light and teasing, “you really should’ve told me about all this secret admiration of yours.”

Shadow snapped his head toward Sonic, his crimson eyes blazing with indignation. “I have no admiration for you,” he retorted flatly, his voice firm and unyielding.

Sonic didn’t miss a beat, his grin growing impossibly wider. “Oh, sure,” he said, waving a hand dismissively. “Damage control. Denial. It’s fine, I get it. You’ve got an image to maintain. But really, you could’ve just told me. We could’ve hung out more. Maybe I could’ve beaten you in a few more races. You know, quality time and all that.”

Shadow’s jaw clenched, the tips of his ears twitching in irritation. “I am not in denial, and you’re completely misunderstanding.”

Sonic chuckled, thoroughly unconvinced. “Uh-huh. Sure. What’s the matter, Shads? Are you just too shy to admit how you really feel about me?”

Shadow looked ready to explode. His fists were balled tightly at his sides, and his quills bristled with barely contained fury. “You are insufferable,” he hissed, his voice low and threatening.

“Come on,” Sonic pressed, clearly enjoying every second of Shadow’s mounting frustration. “Why hide it? I mean, it’s flattering, really. I didn’t know you thought so highly of me.”

Shadow’s attempts at maintaining composure were failing rapidly. He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself, but Sonic’s relentless teasing was like fuel on a fire. “You’re wrong,” he growled, his voice trembling with barely restrained anger. “It’s a misunderstanding!”

Sonic just shrugged, his smug grin never faltering. “Hey, I’m just going by what your kid said. And honestly? It’s adorable.”

Realizing he was fighting a losing battle, Shadow’s patience finally snapped. “Enough!” he barked, his voice booming through the room. “Get out of my house. You’re not welcome here.”

The sudden outburst silenced even Sonic for a moment, but the silence was quickly broken by Galahad’s distressed whine. “Dad!” he protested, his golden eyes wide and pleading. “That’s rude! You shouldn’t say that to our king!”

Sonic blinked, his teasing demeanor momentarily replaced by confusion. “Wait, what?” he asked, his head tilting slightly as he looked between Galahad and Shadow. “King?”

Shadow growled, pinching the bridge of his nose as if physically trying to block out the absurdity of the situation. “He’s not a king,” he ground out through clenched teeth.

“Yes, he is!” Galahad shot back passionately, clutching the Sonic plushie to his chest. “He’s the true king of Camelot—King Arthur himself!”

The weight of Galahad’s words hit Sonic like a truck. His confident smirk vanished, replaced by wide-eyed shock. He stared at Galahad, his mind racing. “Wait… what did you just say?” he asked, his voice softer now, as if he wasn’t entirely sure he’d heard correctly.

Shadow’s frustration flared again, and he opened his mouth to scold Galahad, but Sonic quickly stepped in. “Hold on, Shads,” he said, raising a hand to stop him. His green eyes were still fixed on Galahad, a flicker of disbelief mingling with curiosity. “Kid, who told you that I was King Arthur?”

Galahad looked up at Sonic, his expression earnest. “You are! Father told me all about you and the legends of Camelot. You wielded the sacred sword Caliburn and saved the kingdom!”

“Wait a second,” Sonic said, confusion written across his face. “I never told anyone about my adventure in Camelot. So how do you know that shads?” 

Sonic stared at Shadow, his emerald eyes filled with confusion and curiosity.

Shadow’s eyes narrowed slightly, gears clearly turning in his mind. Then, as realization hit him, his expression shifted into something darker. It dawned on him—the Sonic in his universe was the same one who had been called Arthur in Camelot.

He straightened up and turned his gaze toward Galahad, who was still clutching his Sonic plushie tightly and watching the exchange with wide, curious eyes. “Galahad,” Shadow said firmly, his voice low but commanding. “Go to your room and play for now. I need to speak with Sonic alone.”

Galahad’s face fell, and he looked up at Shadow with a pleading expression. “But I want to stay,” he whined softly.

Shadow’s crimson eyes hardened. “Now,” he said, his tone brooking no argument.

With a small pout and a reluctant nod, Galahad shuffled off, throwing one last glance at Sonic before disappearing up the stairs. 

Sonic raised an eyebrow at Shadow, crossing his arms. “What’s with the cloak-and-dagger routine? What’s going on?”

Shadow exhaled, visibly preparing himself. “Answer me this first,” he said, his tone sharp and direct. “Were you crowned King Arthur in Camelot? Did they refer to you by that title?”

Sonic blinked, surprised by the specific question. “Uh, yeah,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. “After I saved Camelot, Caliburn kind of spilled the beans about being the sword that chooses the true king. And, well… turns out that was me. They ended up crowning me King Arthur, even though I wasn’t exactly thrilled about it.”

Shadow’s eyes narrowed further. “And you accepted the title?”

Sonic shrugged. “Not exactly, but everyone in Camelot called me King Arthur after that. Merlina and the knights convinced me to stick around while Merlina worked on a spell to send me home. I mostly just kept the kingdom from falling apart in the meantime.”

Shadow was silent for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then, with a deep breath, he asked, “Was Sir Lancelot my counterpart?”

Sonic’s eyes lit up with recognition, and he nodded. “Yeah, he was. I mean, he looked and sounded just like you. Same brooding attitude, too.”

Shadow’s hands curled into fists at his sides. This was worse than he thought. Galahad’s admiration for Sonic wasn’t just an innocent misunderstanding—it was rooted in reality.

Sonic’s curiosity shifted into concern as he noticed Shadow’s visible tension. “Why does this feel like it’s about more than just Camelot?”

Shadow sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Because it is. Galahad isn’t actually my son,” he began. “He’s Sir Lancelot’s child.”

Sonic’s jaw dropped. “Wait, what? Lancelot had a kid? When? I was just in Camelot not that long ago, and he did not have a kid then.”

“Time moves differently between dimensions,” Shadow explained flatly. “Galahad is his son, but genetically, he’s also mine. Galahad knows this, but he’s… chosen to call me ‘Dad.’ For now, I’m his official guardian under a cover story.”

Sonic stared, struggling to wrap his head around this information. “Okay, that’s… a lot. But why is he here? What happened to Camelot?”

Shadow’s expression darkened further. “That world no longer exists,” he said grimly. “A being known as the World Eater destroyed it. Sir Lancelot sent Galahad here through a portal Merlina created to save him from the same fate.”

Sonic’s usual confident demeanor shattered at those words. His face paled, and he took a step back, his hands trembling slightly. “What?” he whispered, his voice barely audible.

Shadow’s voice was cold and steady as he continued. “Lancelot stayed behind to protect Merlina while she cast the portal. He sacrificed himself to ensure Galahad’s escape. The World Eater killed him.”

Sonic’s legs felt like jelly, and he leaned against the wall for support. His breaths came in short, uneven bursts, and his normally vibrant green eyes were wide with shock. “No…” he whispered, shaking his head. “Camelot…. Lancelot…Merlina… all of them… they’re…”

Shadow watched silently, taken aback by the sheer devastation on Sonic’s face. He had never seen Sonic like this before—not this vulnerable, not this shaken. For a brief moment, the tension between them faded, replaced by a heavy, somber silence. 

Sonic was frozen for a moment, his usual confident smirk replaced by an expression of raw grief. His shoulders sagged, and his mouth opened slightly, as if he wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words. His emerald eyes, always bright and full of energy, were dimmed, reflecting the weight of the news he’d just received.

Shadow, still standing stiffly in the hallway, felt an unfamiliar pang of discomfort. Sonic’s reaction bothered him more than he cared to admit. He had never seen the blue hedgehog so shaken before, and the sight unsettled him. Sonic wasn’t supposed to show cracks like this.

Sonic finally broke the silence, his voice barely above a whisper. “I… I need a minute to think this through.”

Before Shadow could respond, Sonic’s form blurred, a streak of blue darting out of the house and disappearing into the distance.

“Damn it, Sonic!” Shadow growled, clenching his fists. He took a step toward the door but stopped himself. Tracking Sonic down wasn’t an option; he couldn’t leave Galahad alone. Frustration simmered beneath the surface.

Sonic had been irritating—teasing and smug—but seeing him unravel like that stirred something uncomfortable in Shadow. He shouldn’t care. He barely tolerated Sonic most days, and yet the image of his distressed expression wouldn’t leave Shadow’s mind.

“Why does this bother me?” Shadow muttered, running a hand through his quills. He paced the living room, his mind circling the same thought. He needed to know more about Camelot—what Sonic knew, what could be useful for Galahad. But more than that, Shadow couldn’t shake the unease of Sonic’s emotional state.

Letting out a frustrated groan, Shadow pulled out his communicator and called Rouge.

The line clicked, and Rouge’s voice came through, smooth and smug as ever. “Well, well, to what do I owe the pleasure, Shadow? Missing me already?”

Shadow scowled, gripping the device tighter. “Don’t start. This is your fault anyway.”

“Oh, you mean the video? Yeah, the internet’s loving it,” Rouge said, a hint of laughter in her tone.

“Drop it,” Shadow snapped. “I’m not calling about that.”

Rouge’s tone shifted to mock surprise. “You’re not? You mean you’re not ready to yell at me for making you a viral sensation?”

“Something came up,” Shadow said tersely, ignoring her jabs. “I need you to babysit Galahad for a while.”

Rouge blinked, momentarily stunned into silence before letting out a hum of curiosity. “Oh? This must be serious. What’s going on, Shadow?”

“None of your business,” he said sharply.

Rouge chuckled. “You really expect me to drop everything without knowing why? What’s in it for me?”

Shadow’s patience thinned, and his voice was a low growl. “I won’t punish you for the video.”

There was a beat of silence before Rouge laughed outright. “Well, that’s an enticing deal. Alright, you’ve got yourself a babysitter. But you owe me the details later. You know how much I love a mystery.”

Shadow exhaled sharply, his annoyance only growing. “Just get here quickly.”

Rouge’s tone was still laced with amusement. “Oh, I’ll be there, don’t worry. And Shadow? Whatever this is, it must be really important for you to call me. I can’t wait to find out.”

Shadow ended the call with a grunt, throwing the communicator onto the kitchen table. Now he just had to wait for Rouge, and then he’d track Sonic down. Shadow hated relying on anyone, let alone Rouge, but this situation left him no choice. Sonic knew too much about Camelot to ignore, and Shadow needed answers—not just for Galahad, but to make sense of everything himself.

Not because he actually felt concerned about Sonic! 

Chapter Text

Rouge showed up in record time, strolling into Shadow’s home with her usual confident swagger. She glanced around, smirking at the domestic scene she’d walked into. “Alright, I’m here,” she said breezily. “Now, what’s the big emergency?”

Shadow didn’t say a word. He cast her a hard glare, his crimson eyes narrowing dangerously, before turning on his heel and heading straight for the door.

 “Where are you going? Shadow!” Rouge called after him.

He didn’t answer. He was too pissed—at her, at the situation, at himself for wanting answers. He trusted Rouge to handle Galahad for now, but that didn’t mean he had to entertain her curiosity. The door slammed shut behind him, leaving Rouge standing there with a curious expression.

Shadow skated quickly through the landscape, his hover shoes kicking up faint trails of dirt and grass as he moved. The morning air was cool, and the world around him was quiet save for the faint hum of his shoes. This was not how he had wanted to spend his morning. Searching for Sonic of all people was grating on his nerves, and the longer it took, the more frustrated he became.

Enough time had passed that the blue annoyance could’ve crossed borders by now if he wanted to. Shadow didn’t know Sonic well enough to predict where he’d go to clear his head, and that only added to his irritation. He decided to check areas with the best views of the surrounding landscapes—places where Sonic might pause and take in the scenery.

For once, luck was on his side. Shadow spotted Sonic sitting at the top of a grassy hill, overlooking a sweeping vista of forests, rivers, and distant mountains. The blue hedgehog’s quills were gently tousled by the breeze, but his usually relaxed posture was stiff, tense. Shadow slowed as he approached, his crimson eyes studying Sonic’s unmoving figure.

Sonic didn’t even glance his way, his focus locked on the view below.

“Lancelot?” Sonic asked suddenly, his voice quiet but tinged with emotion.

“Wrong.” Shadow answered as he took a step closer.

Sonic turned his head then, and Shadow’s stomach twisted uncomfortably at the sight of Sonic’s glassy, reddened eyes. It was clear he’d been crying, though no tears fell now. Still, the grief was etched deeply into his face.

Shadow tensed, caught off guard. He wasn’t prepared for this—seeing Sonic so vulnerable, so unlike his usual self. Regret crept in almost immediately. He’d dismissed Sonic’s emotional state earlier, focused only on getting answers, but now he realized how much Sonic was struggling.

“Shadow,” Sonic said softly, his voice carrying a heaviness that made Shadow’s chest tighten.

Shadow looked away for a moment, grounding himself before speaking. “You… ran off before I could finish. I came for answers, not… this.”

Sonic let out a shaky breath, his gaze drifting back to the horizon. “Sorry if my emotions are inconvenient for you,” he muttered bitterly.

Shadow’s jaw clenched, guilt prickling at him. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Then what did you mean?” Sonic’s voice was sharper now, though it still trembled. He shook his head, his fists clenching. “Do you even understand what it’s like to hear that everyone you knew in Camelot is just… gone?”

Shadow’s throat tightened. He had expected Sonic to be upset, but this level of emotional devastation was far beyond what he had anticipated. He hesitated, unsure of what to say. Words of comfort didn’t come naturally to him.

“Unfortunately, I do.” Shadow admitted after a long pause. His entire world was taken from Shadow when  G.U.N raided the space colony ark. Something he rather not talk about, especially not with Sonic. 

Sonic’s expression shifted, the weight of his earlier words hitting him. His emerald eyes briefly flicked to Shadow, now tinged with guilt. “Sorry,” he muttered, his voice subdued. “I shouldn’t have said that. I wasn’t thinking.”

Shadow’s brow furrowed slightly, recognizing the struggle Sonic was having with his slip-up. It wasn’t often Sonic displayed vulnerability, let alone regret. Not wanting to dwell on it, Shadow chose to steer the conversation elsewhere.

“Why did you call me Lancelot?” he asked, his tone firm but not accusatory. It was a pointed reminder: Lancelot was gone. Sonic should know better than to confuse him with someone else, even if the resemblance ran deep.

Sonic sighed, turning his gaze back to the rolling hills and distant horizon. The sunlight bathed the landscape in a soft golden hue, the wind carrying the faint rustle of leaves. “I was caught in my mind,” he admitted quietly. His shoulders sagged, the usual energy in his posture dimmed.

“I suppose it doesn’t surprise you if I tell you I wasn’t exactly the kind of king who liked staying still,” Sonic continued, a faint, bittersweet smile tugging at his lips. “The court didn’t like it, though. Said I needed someone to keep me in line. So they assigned me a personal knight. Guess who that ended up being?”

Shadow didn’t answer, though the faint twitch of his ear showed he already knew.

“The only one who could keep up with me was Sir Lancelot,” Sonic said, his tone growing softer as he spoke. “He had shoes like yours—the sound of them. It reminded me of him. Wherever I went, no matter how fast or far, he’d follow me.”

There was fondness in Sonic’s voice, but it was underscored with a deep sense of loss. His smile faded slightly, and his eyes clouded with memories. “He always said it was his honor to serve me, even if it meant chasing me halfway across the kingdom.”

Shadow crossed his arms, his gaze narrowing. He couldn’t imagine being forced to spend that much time with Sonic, let alone treating it as an honor. It sounded more like a punishment than anything else.

Yet, Galahad’s words echoed in his mind: Serving King Arthur was the greatest honor of his life.

Shadow’s lips pressed into a thin line. “So, you were his king, and he followed you everywhere?”

“Everywhere,” Sonic replied, his voice dropping to almost a whisper. He tilted his head back slightly, letting the breeze tousle his quills. “He was more than just a knight. He was loyal, dependable, and a good friend. I trusted him with everything.”

Shadow’s jaw tightened, the faintest flicker of discomfort crossing his face. He wasn’t used to hearing this side of Sonic, this raw emotion. And while he didn’t want to admit it, the bond Sonic had shared with Lancelot was beginning to gnaw at him for some reason.

Sonic suddenly laughed softly, though it lacked his usual carefree energy. “You know,” he said, glancing at Shadow, “you’re a lot like him. The way you stand, the way you move. It’s eerie.”

“I’m not Lancelot,” Shadow stated firmly, his crimson eyes narrowing.

“I know,” Sonic replied, his expression falling serious again. “But it’s hard not to see him when I look at you.”

Shadow didn’t respond, his gaze shifting to the horizon. The wind picked up slightly, carrying with it the faint scent of wildflowers from the valley below. For a moment, the two stood in silence, the weight of everything unspoken settling between them.

The air seemed thick with unspoken emotions as Sonic’s shoulders slumped further, the usual spark in his emerald eyes dulled to a dim flicker. The golden light of the rising sun seemed muted against the weight of the conversation, as though the world itself mirrored the heaviness. A gentle breeze rustled the grass and leaves around them. 

“You know,” Sonic began, his voice low and quiet, “Merlina saw it all—the wars, the chaos, the eventual downfall of Camelot—and it consumed her. She wanted to stop it, to freeze everything in time so nothing could change. She thought it was the only way to preserve what she loved.”

He paused, his gaze fixed on the horizon as if searching for an answer that wasn’t there. “But she was wrong,” he continued, his tone tinged with sorrow. “I couldn’t let her do it. Freezing everything, trapping Camelot in some eternal stasis—it wasn’t right. I fought her, made her see that change is a part of life, even when it’s painful. I thought I’d done the right thing.”

Shadow’s crimson eyes stayed on Sonic, unreadable yet attentive. He remained silent, letting Sonic’s words fill the space between them.

“I knew Camelot would fall one day,” Sonic admitted, his voice growing quieter. “I told myself it was okay, that it was just how things worked. But this… this wasn’t supposed to happen. It wasn’t just a fall—it was annihilation. An entire world, an entire universe, gone.”

Sonic’s hands clenched into fists, as he stared at the ground. “I thought I was doing the right thing by leaving. I told myself they’d be fine without me, that they didn’t need a king who didn’t want to be there. But I was wrong. I left, and they weren’t fine. If I had stayed—”

“You would have lost everything else,” Shadow interjected, his voice sharp but calm.

Sonic flinched at the interruption, his ears twitching. “Maybe,” he said after a moment, his voice laced with doubt. “But maybe I could’ve stopped it. Maybe I could’ve stopped the World Eater and saved them.”

Shadow uncrossed his arms, his expression hardening. “Or maybe you would’ve died trying. You can’t change what happened, Sonic. Lingering on what-ifs won’t fix anything.”

Sonic turned to Shadow, his eyes glassy but full of conflict. “You don’t understand—”

“I understand more than you think,” Shadow cut in firmly. “It wasn’t your fault.”

The conviction in his tone made Sonic falter, his mouth opening as if to protest before he closed it again. “But—”

“It wasn’t your fault,” Shadow repeated, his voice even but unyielding. His gaze bore into Sonic, daring him to argue further.

Sonic blinked, his expression softening as the tension in his shoulders eased slightly. “Thanks,” he said after a moment, his lips quirking into a faint smile. It wasn’t the full, confident grin Shadow was used to, but it was something. “I needed to hear that.”

The breeze picked up again, carrying the scent of earth and wildflowers as the silence between them stretched. Sonic seemed to gather himself, his posture straightening slightly as he looked back toward the horizon.

“So,” Sonic said, his voice lighter but still carrying a hint of weariness, “what did you want to ask me?”

”Do you know anything about the World Eater?” Shadow asked and Sonic sighed.

”No, nothing, never heard of it before.” Sonic admitted as he clenched his fists. 

Shadow shifted, his crimson gaze narrowing slightly. “Do you know anything about Galahad’s mother? Did Lancelot have a family by the time you left?”

Sonic’s brow furrowed as he shook his head. “No. When I left, Lancelot didn’t have a partner or a kid. He was all about duty, you know? Protecting Camelot, serving the kingdom, serving me—it was his whole life.”

He hesitated, his expression growing thoughtful. “But… I guess I might’ve had something to do with that changing.”

Shadow raised a brow. “What do you mean?”

Sonic rubbed the back of his neck, a sheepish grin tugging at his lips. “Well….”

Past Camelot

The golden hues of the setting sun bathed the King’s Garden in a warm glow, casting long, soft shadows over the intricate, enchanted flora. The garden was alive with magic—the flowers shimmered faintly, their petals refracting light like tiny prisms. Gentle humming sounds came from vibrant, floating orbs that hovered lazily above the blooms, and the soft trickle of an unseen stream added a serene melody to the scene. Sonic stood amidst the garden, his emerald eyes wide with wonder as he admired the beauty surrounding him. He crouched to inspect a flower with crystalline petals that glowed faintly with every touch, his grin widening as it sparkled in response.

From the edge of the garden, Sir Lancelot stood still, his dark figure barely visible among the towering ivy-covered arches marking the garden’s entrance. His crimson eyes stayed fixed on Sonic, his expression stoic but tinged with something akin to longing. The King’s Garden was a sacred space, reserved only for royalty, and even as Sonic’s personal knight, Lancelot knew better than to step into its hallowed grounds unbidden.

Sonic, catching sight of the knight from the corner of his eye, straightened up and called out cheerfully, “Hey, Lancelot! What are you doing lurking out there? Come in already!”

Lancelot stiffened, his armor glinting faintly in the soft light as he took a step back. “My liege,” he said, his voice low but firm, “the King’s Garden is meant for you alone. I cannot intrude.”

Sonic rolled his eyes, placing his hands on his hips. “Oh, come on. Who’s gonna stop you? You’re with me, remember?”

The knight hesitated, his gaze flickering to the enchanted flowers as though even looking too long was a breach of etiquette. Sonic sighed and waved him over, his grin softening into something encouraging. “Just get over here. That’s an order if it makes you feel better.”

The hesitation in Lancelot’s stance melted slightly at the command. He moved forward with measured grace, his boots making only the faintest sound against the cobblestone path. When he reached Sonic, he immediately dropped to one knee, bowing his head low. “What is your command, my king?”

Sonic groaned dramatically, scratching the back of his head. “For Chaos’ sake, Lancelot, you don’t have to kneel every time. I’ve told you a million times—it’s weird.”

“It is only proper for a knight to show respect to his king,” Lancelot replied, lifting his head slightly but not rising. “To ignore such courtesies would be dishonorable.”

Sonic sighed, waving a hand dismissively. “Fine, fine, whatever makes you happy. But seriously, you don’t have to make it a habit.”

Lancelot rose to his feet. “Is there something you require of me, sire?”

“Yeah,” Sonic said with a grin, gesturing to the vibrant garden around them. “I want your company, not you staring at me from the sidelines. Come explore this place with me.”

Lancelot frowned, his gaze shifting uncomfortably. “The King’s Garden is a sacred space. It was created to be experienced by royalty alone. It would be improper—”

“Improper, shmimproper,” Sonic interrupted with a snort, waving a hand dismissively. “What’s the point of all this beauty if I’m the only one who gets to enjoy it? Have you even seen this stuff up close?”

Lancelot shook his head slowly, his expression neutral but his posture tense. “No, my liege. It is not my place to—”

“Well, it is now,” Sonic said firmly, crossing his arms. “I’m ordering you to join me. No more arguing.”

The tension in Lancelot’s shoulders eased slightly at the direct command, and he inclined his head in acknowledgment. “As you wish.”

With that settled, the two began walking through the garden together. Lancelot moved with quiet reverence, his crimson eyes scanning the glowing plants and softly humming orbs in awe. Sonic, meanwhile, strode ahead with childlike excitement, occasionally stopping to marvel at something new.

“Man, we don’t have anything like this back home,” Sonic remarked, gesturing to a tree with silver leaves that chimed softly in the breeze. “It’s like stepping into a dream.”

Lancelot nodded, his voice quiet. “The King’s Garden is a gift from the great wizard Merlin. Every plant, every creature you see here exists only within these borders. They cannot survive anywhere else.”

“Wow,” Sonic murmured, brushing his hand against a cluster of glowing flowers. “Merlin really outdid himself, huh?”

“He did,” Lancelot agreed, his gaze lingering on a cluster of ethereal butterflies that seemed to glow from within. “It is said he created this garden as a sanctuary—a place of peace for the king to reflect and find solace.”

“Well, it’s working,” Sonic said with a grin, turning to face Lancelot. “And you know what? It’s even better with company.”

A faint smile tugged at the corners of Lancelot’s lips. “If that is your wish, my liege, then I am honored to oblige.”

The two continued their exploration. The air was filled with a sense of tranquility, and for a brief moment, the weight of their duties seemed to fade away. 

The garden glimmered in the fading light, its enchanted flora radiating a subtle glow that painted the air in hues of gold and silver. Sonic strolled leisurely through the paths, running his hand over the soft, petal-like leaves of an iridescent bush. He glanced back at Lancelot, who followed a few paces behind, his posture rigid and his movements cautious.

“You know,” Sonic began with a grin, his voice carrying a casual cheerfulness, “it would’ve totally sucked if I left Camelot without checking this place out. All this magic, all these amazing flowers… it’d be a waste to miss it.”

Lancelot’s frame stiffened noticeably, though he said nothing. The knight’s hesitation wasn’t lost on Sonic, who slowed his pace and turned to face him. “What’s up with you? Something on your mind?”

Lancelot hesitated, his armored hands tightening briefly at his sides before he straightened his posture. “My liege,” he said carefully, “may I… speak plainly?”

Sonic blinked in surprise at the formal request. “You know you don’t have to ask me that, right? I’ve told you a million times, you can say whatever you want.”

But when Lancelot’s determined gaze remained locked on him, Sonic sighed and waved a hand. “Fine, fine. If it makes you feel better—yes, you have permission to speak plainly.”

Lancelot bowed his head slightly in acknowledgment before speaking, his voice steady but laced with discomfort. “You should stay in Camelot, my king. This land needs you. The people need you.”

Lancelot’s rigid posture and the faint shift in his tone told Sonic that the knight was far from comfortable voicing his opinion.

“Look,” Sonic said, crossing his arms. “I get where you’re coming from, but I have to go back home. It’s not just for me—my friends, my world, they need me.”

Lancelot visibly tensed at the answer, his discomfort now palpable despite the armor masking most of his body language. After a brief pause, he reached up and lifted his visor, exposing his face. The sight always caught Sonic off guard—the uncanny resemblance to Shadow was undeniable, though there was a softness in Lancelot’s features that set him apart.

“Camelot needs you too,” Lancelot said, his voice quieter but more intense now that there was no barrier between them. “I… need you.”

The raw vulnerability in his voice hit Sonic like a lightning strike. He froze, his confident demeanor faltering as he processed the weight of Lancelot’s words. It wasn’t just the plea that stunned him—it was the way Lancelot’s crimson eyes, usually so guarded, looked at him with a desperate sincerity.

“You…” Sonic began, but the words caught in his throat. Lancelot’s discomfort was visible now, his gaze wavering slightly as though the sheer act of admitting his feelings was a monumental effort.

“I know it is not my place to ask this of you,” Lancelot continued, his tone softer, almost pleading. “But your presence has brought hope to this land. To its people. To me.” He swallowed hard, his eyes flickering with uncertainty. “Without you, I fear what will become of us. Of… me.”

Sonic’s chest tightened at the knight’s words. Lancelot was always so composed, so unwavering in his loyalty and sense of duty. Seeing him this shaken, this vulnerable, was unlike anything Sonic had ever experienced.

“Lancelot…” Sonic said softly, his voice losing its usual buoyancy. The knight stood stiffly, his visor still lifted, crimson eyes downcast as though struggling to bear the weight of his own words.

“I was created to serve you,” Lancelot began quietly, his voice tinged with a deep, aching vulnerability. “Forged by the great wizard Merlin himself to be the ultimate knight. My sole purpose is to serve and protect you, my king. Everything I am, is for you.”

Sonic’s expression shifted, his usual cheer replaced with a look of shock and growing concern. Lancelot’s words echoed too closely to another story he’d heard before—Shadow’s story. But this was different. Shadow had spent his life breaking free from the purpose forced upon him. Lancelot, though, had fully embraced it, and now, that purpose threatened to consume him.

Lancelot hesitated, visibly uncomfortable as he continued. “If you leave… if you’re no longer here… I…” His voice faltered, his fists clenching at his sides. “I would lose all purpose. My existence would be meaningless without you to serve.”

The admission clearly pained him, as though each word was being dragged from the depths of his soul. Sonic’s chest tightened at the raw honesty in Lancelot’s voice. He could see it now—why Lancelot had always been so devoted, so unwavering in his loyalty. But it wasn’t just loyalty. It was desperation.

Sonic took a step closer, his voice soft but firm. “Lancelot… you can’t think like that. Your life isn’t meaningless just because I’m not here. That’s not what life’s about.”

Lancelot’s crimson eyes flickered with uncertainty. “But it is. I was created for this purpose, my king. My loyalty, my duty—it is all that I am. Without it…” He trailed off, unable to finish the sentence.

The desperation in his eyes hit Sonic like a punch to the gut. He couldn’t stand the thought of Lancelot living his life chained to a role he never chose for himself. It wasn’t fair—it wasn’t freedom.

Sonic inhaled deeply, trying to steady his emotions before speaking. “Come with me. There’s something I need to show you.”

Lancelot hesitated, his expression momentarily wounded. He believed Sonic was brushing aside his heartfelt confession, and the thought stung more than he cared to admit. Still, he bowed his head and followed silently, his unease growing with every step.

The two walked through the stone corridors of the castle, their footsteps echoing softly. Lancelot’s mind raced with guilt. He had overstepped, breaching every rule of courtesy by burdening his king with his selfish thoughts. His stomach twisted at the idea that he may have failed Sonic by daring to voice his own desires.

They stopped in front of the grand mirror in the castle’s great hall. The towering frame was ornate, its edges carved with depictions of ancient legends.

Sonic turned to Lancelot with a warm, reassuring smile. The sight of it eased some of the tension in the knight’s shoulders, though not entirely.

The mirror’s ornate frame sparkled faintly, as if aware of the tension in the room.

Sonic focused on Lancelot, emerald eyes steady yet kind, a smile tugging faintly at the corners of his mouth. “Lancelot, I need you to take off your armor and put down your sword,” he said evenly, his tone calm but resolute.

Lancelot froze. His crimson eyes widened in alarm. His breath hitched as a sudden fear clawed at him, unfamiliar and paralyzing. “My king…” he began hesitantly, his voice barely above a whisper. “Why? Why would you ask such a thing?”

Sonic tilted his head, perplexed by the panic lacing Lancelot’s words. “Just trust me,” he said gently. “You can keep your gauntlets and shoes.” 

Lancelot’s mind raced, a storm of doubts and dark possibilities. Had he crossed a line? Had his selfish outburst in the garden angered his king? The thought of punishment loomed, vivid and cruel. 

A lump formed in his throat, but he swallowed it down, forcing himself to nod. “As you wish, my king,” he replied, though his voice trembled. Slowly, deliberately, he began removing his armor.

The clang of metal rang sharply through the hall as Lancelot placed his chestplate on the ground, followed by his greaves, and finally his helmet. Each piece felt like shedding a part of himself, leaving him more exposed with every movement. When he finally stood upright, clad only in gauntlets and shoes, he looked vulnerable—stripped not only of his armor but of the identity it represented.

Sonic, his focus momentarily on the mirror, didn’t notice the fear etched deeply into Lancelot’s features. But when the knight stepped back, shoulders hunched, eyes cast down to the floor, Sonic’s gaze snapped to him.

“Lancelot?” Sonic asked, his voice tinged with concern. “What’s wrong?”

Lancelot hesitated, his throat tightening as if the words were stuck. Finally, he raised his head, and his crimson eyes met Sonic’s, filled with pain. “Am I… being demoted, my king?” he asked, his voice barely steady. “Will I be punished for speaking so selfishly?”

Sonic blinked, stunned into silence for a moment before stepping forward, his hands rising instinctively in reassurance. “What? No! Lancelot, no way!” he exclaimed, his voice full of alarm. “Why would you even think that? I’d never do something like that to you!”

Lancelot’s gaze faltered, his fists clenching at his sides. “Because… I broke my oath,” he admitted, his voice heavy with shame. “I questioned your decision. I spoke out of turn. A knight’s duty is to serve without question, not to voice his own desires. I have no right to burden you with my feelings.”

Sonic’s chest tightened at the raw vulnerability in Lancelot’s words. He stepped closer, placing a firm but gentle hand on Lancelot’s shoulder. “Hey, listen to me,” he said softly, his voice steady. “You didn’t do anything wrong. You weren’t being selfish—you were being honest. And I want you to be honest with me, always. You got that?”

The reassurance seemed to steady Lancelot, but the knight still glanced uneasily at the pile of discarded armor as though it might disappear altogether.

Sonic let out a sigh, trying to keep his frustration at Lancelot’s self-doubt in check. “Look, I didn’t ask you to take off your armor to humiliate you or anything. I need you to see something. Now, come here.”

Though his discomfort was evident in the rigid set of his shoulders, Lancelot followed Sonic to the shimmering mirror.

“Take a look,” Sonic instructed, gesturing to their reflections. “Tell me what you see.”

Lancelot hesitated before lifting his gaze. His reflection stared back, but without the imposing shell of armor, he felt strangely exposed, like a puzzle missing its most important pieces. “I see… a knight,” he said quietly, his voice uncertain. “A knight stripped of his tools, his defenses. A shadow of what he is meant to be.”

Sonic frowned, stepping beside him, his expression firm. “That’s not what I see,” he said. “I see someone who doesn’t need all that to prove how strong or important they are. I see someone who can be anything they want to be if they put the effort into it. Someone who’s free to choose what they want, not what they’ve been told to be.”

Lancelot turned to him, crimson eyes flickering with doubt. “You truly believe that, my king?”

Sonic’s warm smile didn’t waver. “Of course I do. And I need you to believe it too. You’re more than what Merlin made you to be, Lancelot. You’re more than a knight—you’re you. And that’s enough.”

The words hung in the air, their weight settling deep within Lancelot’s chest. Slowly, the tension in his shoulders began to ease. He turned back to the mirror, studying his reflection with new eyes.

He allowed himself to wonder if there was more to his existence than the role he had been created for. And for the first time, the thought didn’t terrify him.