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Excess energy. Her grandfather mutters it under his breath like a curse whenever he thinks Maria isn’t in earshot, when he has one hand wrapped around the ever-printing page of energy readings and the other around a cup of coffee. Maria doesn’t know much about his previous projects, but it seems this is a recurring issue which to her sounds like it could only be a good thing. Back on Earth, finding and keeping energy was enough of a struggle and she’s gone through enough blackouts in her life to realize how much she needs it. But aboard the ARK, everything is different, so she supposes their problems should be different too.
‘Project: Shadow’ is producing too much energy—too much for one life form to handle, let alone channel with any sort of accuracy. She’s gathered this much just from overhearing her grandfather’s mutterings. Though his final form is not anywhere near completed, the energy issue must be solved. Maria leans back in her chair, tucking her knees up to her chest and pulling her notebook into her lap, chewing on the eraser of her pencil.
She’s stolen some of her grandfather’s sketches for what Shadow is supposed to look like (something tells her he won’t be too mad, he never is) and though there may be changes, he is likely to keep this bipedal form. Maria’s first thought is accessories, of course. An implant would be far too impractical, in case it must be removed at any given point. Although accessories are impractical for herself, she thinks it may be the most accessible way to control the chaos energy. A physical channel to store and manage the excess, a sort of grounding point to keep him in control.
Maria swipes a tongue over her teeth as she starts sketching again. The problem then becomes getting the mechanisms small enough to fit. Her initial designs already feel too clunky, but batteries and chips only come so small. Although… perhaps if the design could be divided into four, one for each limb, then the strain on any given device would be much smaller, and thus less tech needed in each device-
“Maria?”
“Oop!” Jumping out of her seat, Maria loses her grip on her pencil, hearing it clatter to the floor as she scrambles to her feet, her notebook held securely behind her back. She faces him with a disarming smile, posture straight despite her fighting the vertigo she gets when she stands so quickly. “Hello, grandfather!”
His brow creases, though he smiles at her. “What are you doing here?”
Maria glances around, almost having forgotten she’d also snuck into her grandfather’s lab, where Shadow is still developing in a large bioreactor pod. She tilts her head and quietly laughs, like she didn’t even realize she’d come in here. “Just curious, I suppose.”
Her grandfather hums, stepping closer. “And what is that you have?”
She laughs again. “Me? I don’t have anything.”
“I can see the edge of your notebook behind your back, my dear. Can I take a look?”
Slumping, Maria sighs, holding it out into her grandfather’s expectant hands. She purses her lips as he looks through the pages, extracting his own sketches that had been slid into the margins.
“Inhibiting devices…” her grandfather murmurs. “How interesting. I’d been trying to solve the issue of containment within his genetic code, but perhaps….”
Grandfather always gets this certain look when he’s thinking through a problem. He’ll adjust his glasses, narrow his eyes and consider the information in front of him fully. His mouth will move even when he stops vocalizing his thoughts. She’s so used to it she’s gotten a decent grasp of lip reading, though she keeps that little tidbit a secret. He mouths something about accessing the excess energy, perhaps in contained bursts…. Maria’s eyes widen, clasping her hands in front of herself as her grandfather’s gaze turns toward her.
“Thievery and trespassing aside, it’s not a bad idea.” Maria can see the gears in his head continuing to turn. “Not a bad idea at all. You haven’t hidden any other genius inventions away from me, have you?”
Safely feeling out of any potential trouble, Maria perks up. “No- well! I did have this one idea—you think it’s genius, grandfather?”
He chuckles, putting a hand on her head. “Of course. Genius runs in the family, my dear.”
Maria starts bouncing giddily, reaching across and flipping toward some earlier pages in her notebook. “Yes! Well, I wondered if mobility would be an issue. I suppose there’s no way to know until he awakes but I also thought it can’t hurt to have rocket shoes-”
Work is inevitably, unfailingly put to the side on the days when Maria’s condition bares its teeth. It’s not that Gerald isn’t buried in work, he is, it’s simply that no work gets done when his attention is halved between it and Maria. Instead, he will turn his attention to aiding her symptoms and to Shadow, her lapses always a reminder that she is only in remission because she is aboard the ARKand he must stay focused on curing her so she might return to the planet she loves so dearly. Shadow is soon to be awoken and he feels no step closer to a solution.
Still, that does not stop the wriggling anxieties in the back of his mind, nor the heavy weight of G.U.N.’s hand on his shoulder, tightening its grip. Some amorphous deadline no one has revealed the date of hangs around his neck like a pillory— he can feel it no matter how superstitious it sounds— and he knows that time is running out.
He lifts his gaze when he hears a sigh. Maria has leaned back in her bed, her arms falling limply at her sides. Her cheeks have hollowed, her flare up bad enough to refuse food. In one hand, she holds a half-sewn glove, the other a needle, the thread still connecting the two despite her running out of energy to hold the project up. Gerald had gotten some measurements of Shadow’s hands after Maria decided he ‘ought’ to have gloves to protect him, matching his shoes and specially designed to accommodate his inhibitor rings. It was suggestions like those, although perfectly reasonable in their logic, that made him half-wonder if Maria’s passions extended also into fashion, something she was not often afforded due to her condition and its need for frequent examinations.
“What is it, my dear?” Gerald stands, putting aside his own notebook to get to the monitor beside her bed, opening her documentation in preparation to note down her symptoms.
Maria’s cracked lips part. “Just tired.”
He begins to type. “Those gloves are looking good.”
“You think so?”
“Yes. You are quite adept at any skill you put your mind to, you know.” He glances over as he sees her split into a wide grin. It’s not empty praise, not at all. When he looks at Maria, he feels a kind of anger not befitting his age. He’s never met a more talented girl. She learns quickly, her idealism and positivity know no bounds, and she doesn’t even hesitate in the face of a difficult challenge, theorems far beyond her level, nor projects that require years of experience. She’d never tried sewing before, yet her seams were effortlessly straight, even with exhaustion weighing down her bones.
He’d scorn whatever God responsible for cursing her with this disease had he not already done so with his faustian deal. He believes it is in the hands of man to take a hold of their destiny and change the world, not some deity’s. He would do whatever it takes, abusing the power of the gods and the demons.
Maria half-heartedly coughs into her shoulder, unable to raise her arm to cover her mouth. Gerald reaches for the pager on her bed to call a nurse, stopping only when she shakes her head. Once she gets her breathing under control, she gives him the best smile she can manage.
“Watch!”
Gerald had noticed the strange contraption all along her room when he’d stepped in but couldn’t decipher its purpose until then. There’s a thin track composed only of hot glue and stir sticks, lightly sloped downward, glued to the wall beside her bed. At the top of the track is a small ledge with a ping pong ball that Maria blows off its stand. It rolls down the track, gaining enough speed down the slope before hitting another long beam of stir sticks at the wall across from the foot of her bed that shifts enough to set another ball rolling. All along the ceiling is a pieced-together toy track— from Abe’s miniature trains?— haphazardly taped in loops that cradle it along toward Maria’s bed, where it suddenly stops. The beam along the wall had pushed it out of its resting position, the pink and blue rubber ball then following the track along until reaching that end, falling and gaining enough velocity to hit the alert button before bouncing and falling onto the floor. A small ding lets them both know the button actually received a signal and a nurse would be on the way.
His attention turns back to Maria, the light having returned to her eyes since that morning. “That’s the first time it’s actually worked!”
Something claws at Gerald’s heart, leaving a deep ache in its place. He mourns the life Maria should be living, rages at the ever-spinning wheel of fate that dealt her this hand, and begs whichever deity might listen that this being, Shadow, be the solution to saving this brilliant girl. He then remembers the suspiciously rubber ball-shaped bruise on her forehead a week ago and all those feelings quiet, even if just a moment, into affection. Hope.
“O-ho…” Gerald chuckles as Maria laughs, having to catch her breath once the nurse arrives.
Transitioning from nothingness into existence is one of pain. Suddenly being able to feel and to process that feeling, the stiff air against wet quills, is maddening. He’s cold, and he knows he’s cold—understands the meaning of that word and attaches it to the feeling crawling across his body. He knows a number of things he doesn’t remember learning, in fact he remembers nothing at all. Shadow awakes for the first time with guilt, greedily sucking in air he didn’t previously need, feeling at once like an abomination, something beyond comprehension, something unlike any other living creature that he still has no idea how he has any knowledge of. The newly born of all species only know their instincts, but Shadow’s head is filled with knowledge untaught to him, thoughts and ideas he can process, but only barely in his bleariness. He knows himself to be wrong, monstrous, and yet he claws himself out of the machine that encased him, overrun by the need to breathe though he senses he might not even need air, though he desperately takes it.
Energy shoots through him like lightning in his blood, and he staggers as the pain of it blinds him. Still, he opens his eyes and he sees her—
—just for a moment. A towel is thrown over his head, his paws dried before gloves and shoes are fitted onto him. The energy quiets into a low thrum, a constant wavelength through his bones but nonetheless painless. The rush of energy being drained leaves him tired, giving in to the hands toweling off his quills. Then he stabilizes, becoming alert and feeling more solid. The towel comes down, and he sees bright blue eyes.
“Hello! I’m Maria. It’s so nice to finally meet you, Shadow.”
She’s crouching down in front of him, leveling herself to his height, reaching out a hand that his brain tells him he’s supposed to grasp and shake. He reaches out, fitting their hands together as Maria does an exaggerated shake between them, her eyes having to close because of how wide she smiles. His eye catches on the light reflecting off the bangle around his wrist, the stark white gloves that he can see has Maria embroidered inside the cuff.
“These-” He momentarily halts, startled by the sound of his own voice. “You created these? For me?”
Maria’s eyes shoot open. Someone else steps into his vision with a low chuckle. “Yes, quite magnificent, aren’t they? Those golden rings keep your chaos energy in check.”
Shadow inspects the rings further. Delicate electronics whirr underneath the surface of the accessory, matching the wavelength of the energy under his skin. Gerald Robotnik, he needs no introduction to Shadow as his creator, beams. Either at his creation or at the marvel of engineering Shadow now wears, he can’t be certain.
“Well, I only designed those. Small electronics are difficult for shaky hands. But I wanted to make things easy on you.” Maria stands, giddy.
He looks up at her and feels nothing but her affection— love. It feels strange and unearned. He looks to the Professor who shares a similar kindness, though some disquietude lurks, perhaps behind his glasses, urgency and desperation. His own discomfort stirs at the unconditional fondness placed upon himself, being showered with gifts to make his awakening easier.
And not just any gifts, inventions that take a careful eye and mind to craft. His gaze switches back to Maria, who he can’t imagine is any older than fourteen, given her appearance, though the illness he knows she carries ages her some. Her relation to the Professor seems obvious, then, their inventive natures seamlessly connected. But still, the proficiency at her age. He marvels at the thought. If he knows one thing outside of that which was implanted into his mind, this wonderful girl, who would do such work for a creature such as himself, has earned his protection.
Shadow bows his head. “Thank you very much.”
“Oh, don’t be so formal! It was nothing!” Maria vehemently shakes her head.
It doesn’t seem like it was nothing. Now, Shadow’s caught a glance at his shoes and they’re not what he understands to be what normal shoes look like. They’re a bit heavy, but it’s immediately clear that they house some other electronics along the sole.
The Professor takes his gloved hand, inspecting his arm. “I hope you don’t mind, we’ll need to run some tests now that you’ve emerged. But we’re so excited to welcome you aboard the ARK, Shadow.”
Shadow nods absently— he doesn’t mind. Despite everything, there are gaps in his knowledge, unsure as to the purpose of his creation, or even what he truly is. He wonders if the young know what they are when they are born, but Shadow knows exactly what he is not. The Professor seems like the person to probe, or perhaps the Professor would tell him regardless, the underlying distress in his posture speaking to some cause.
Maria pouts, acting more her age as she follows the Professor and himself into another room. When Shadow turns his head over his shoulder to look at her, she lights up, mischievousness crinkling her nose as she points back down at Shadow’s shoes. He watches her silently mouth the syllables one by one, ROCK-ET-SHOES.
Her intentions come through terribly clearly, though he’s not sure he considers it a good idea to be causing trouble in his first hour of consciousness. In fact, he can list off all the reasons he knows it’s a bad idea, given how much he already knows much about the Professor. But he does know the Professor also has a soft spot for Maria, and he finds himself in a similar position, wanting to give her anything and everything she wants.
He knows the need to protect and help Maria were designed into him, but he feels neither of those compulsions. It is her kinship with him, her kindness that urges him to move. He’s barely known her for a few minutes, but he’s come to quickly understand why her life is so precious. He shakes off his previous discomfort, feeling himself mirror her affinity, grinning at her.
She moves her legs strangely, he supposes trying to demonstrate how to activate said rocket shoes. Shadow’s already figured out what room the Professor is leading him toward, the schematics of the Ark somewhere in his mind. Maria nods at him, egging him on.
He supposes a lap around the Ark wouldn’t hurt to familiarize himself with the spacecraft, Maria shrieking with laughter in his arms and the Professor’s disgruntled and resigned sigh fading behind them.