Rouge struggled to pull herself together. If the island was floating, the Master Emerald had to be here. But how could it be here? Knuckles couldn't possibly have gathered its fragments in that little time. Could he? She stood torn with indecision for a moment, her heart zinging slightly in her chest from hammering so hard. There really wasn't much option but to go and see for herself. She didn't have to go all the way over or anything . . . just close enough to see.

Usually her footsteps towards the Master Emerald shrine were playful and eager. Today, each step sent chills through her body, as she set her feet down grudgingly, gingerly, as if expecting the earth to give way any moment. Numbly she brushed her way through the jungle, trying to catch a glimpse of the shrine through the foliage.

Presently she pushed a branch up out of her way, and there it was: the shrine. With an unmistakable sharp green glow at the top.

Rouge let the branch fall back into place and stood still for a second, staring through it. The Master Emerald was there. Just as if nothing had happened. Had . . . had anything happened?

A combination of terrifying theories came swarming out of holes in the ground. Had nothing actually taken place? Had she been dreaming all along? Was her house still standing? Was Knuckles—was Knuckles here? Or was he at her house, waiting? Was he dead, was he alive?

Trembling, Rouge shot to the edge of Angel Island and took off. Her wings, previously light and happy to frolic, now cried with exertion as she blindly drove herself back to her house. Was it still standing?

It wasn't. Rouge slammed down onto her feet in front of a charred jumble of wood, which appeared to have been mostly picked through and tidied. So it had happened, all of it.

Why was Angel Island floating?

Rouge stood in silence, her eyes roving over the charcoal and streaks of burned ground.

"Hello," a quiet voice came from the darkness.

Rouge whirled, her hands raised for combat, the hearts on her boots scraping into the ground dangerously. She might be confused to the point of madness, but she still wasn't going to let herself be mowed down without a fight.

It was Shadow. He sat on a pile of charred lumber nearby, watching her quietly through the darkness.

"I thought you'd come here eventually," he said, as Rouge's breathing returned to a reasonable rate. "You seem unnerved."

Rouge shook her head at him mutely.

"Seen Angel Island?"

She looked away, still silent.

"Angel Island needs its Emerald," said Shadow, for way of explanation. "I found it in the wreckage of your house, but I managed to keep it a secret from the others. I waited to put it back in its shrine until your burns had healed. In case you needed to flee." His cold eyes scanned her appraisingly, ironically.

"Got something you want to tell me?"

Swallowing, she turned to look at Shadow again. He was expressionless, perfectly calm, even though he must know she had done something wrong. If the Master Emerald was in her house and Knuckles hadn't been seen in weeks, Shadow must have drawn his own conclusions already. He must have known for a while now, all while she was recovering.

And yet, there was no judgment in his eyes. Could she tell him what had happened? She'd known him for a long time; they both knew each other inside-out. She had to tell someone, someday. She couldn't keep fighting alone forever. Shadow was the one most likely to believe her—and the least likely to condemn her. She could tell him. She had to.

"Will you believe what I tell you?" she asked softly. "If I swear I'm telling the truth?"

"I'll believe you."

Rouge nodded numbly and began to talk. She'd been hoping it would be relieving, lessening her confusion and the numb pain in her chest, but it only exacerbated her misery. She relived every agonized moment of it, sparing nothing. Knuckles dead. Knuckles alive again. Knuckles leeching her soul out through her throat. She tried to be coherent at first, but very soon she just gave in and babbled onwards blankly, not even caring whether Shadow was listening or not.

But he was. He didn't utter a word all throughout. He didn't even move.

"And now I don't know where he is," Rouge finished wearily. "Now that I'm well, he might start coming for me again. He's got his Emerald back, but I don't think he wants it. He just wants me dead! At first it was just the head games, but now he literally wants my head, I don't know what to do . . . I can't stop him . . . " She drew a deep breath and looked up at Shadow. Half of her cringed in expectation of condemnation; the other half begged hopelessly that, just once, he could squeeze a little sympathy out of that icy soul of his, tell her it would be all right and he knew just what to do to fix it.

Shadow did neither. He said nothing for a minute, but slowly raised one hand to his face, sinking his eyes into his palm and dragging the hand back over his forehead, clawing his fingers through his quills.

"Rouge, Rouge," he said softly, looking away. "What have you done to yourself?"

"I didn't come to you for pity!" snapped Rouge, furious in her desperation. "I didn't tell you all that just so you could tell me I was an idiot! Believe me, I am abundantly aware of that!"

"Rouge," said Shadow. He stood up resignedly. "You're crazy."

Whatever will to live that may have remained drained out of Rouge all at once. If Shadow didn't believe her, nobody would.

"I—I tell you the truth," she hissed, eyes blazing. "I more or less throw myself on your mercy, Shadow the Hedgehog, and that's all you can give me? You—"

"Knuckles is dead," said Shadow flatly. "He's not haunting you."

"He is not dead!" snarled Rouge. "Are you insane? Who do you think did all this to me?!" She flung her arm out at the blackened wreckage they were standing amongst.

"You did it to yourself. Judging from your story, I see that now."

"Y-you son of a—"

"You're out of your mind. You're having delusions that Knuckles is trying to kill you, when it's all your doing."

"I am not delusional!" Rouge bellowed, her vocal cords aching as she feverishly wished for the ability to scream. "Do you know what kind of hell I've been through? Do you know what it's like to be alone, with an undead freak ripping out his eyeballs in front of you? And you tell me it's all in my head? Thank you! Thank you very much! Now I am all alone, and you can sit comfortably with that while I get murdered by some godforsaken echidna who's all in my head!"

Shadow made no reply, but stood, his eyes narrowed, his fists tight. Suddenly he seized Rouge's arm and began to drag her away from the wreckage of the house.

"Let go of me, you—" swearing, Rouge tore herself away and spun, driving her boot into Shadow's skull. She didn't care by this point if she beat his brains out—nothing mattered anymore. The kill instinct began to stir quietly in its den somewhere, nettled on by sheer desperation.

Shadow dropped to one knee and hissed through his teeth, one hand pressed to the side of his head. His body shivered all over with pain, once, twice, then calmed. Breathing heavily, he pushed himself to his feet and snatched for Rouge's arm again.

"Chaos, CONTROL!"

In a flash of light, they materialized in a dark void. An even darker shape loomed above them, casting them into immaterial blackness. They were in the mountains now.

"Leave me alone!" growled Rouge. She threw herself at Shadow again.

"Get ahold of yourself before I have to hurt you!" ordered Shadow, blocking a wild blow. "Calm down this instant!"

"Calm down? You leave me just when I need you most, you call me crazy when you're the only one I reach out to, and you want me to calm down?" Rouge choked on a mixture of fury and saliva. "I'll—I'll kill you!"

She lunged for another kick. Shadow dodged back and drove a Chaos Spear into her heart. Rouge slammed against the rockface behind her, her breath jarring from her lungs in a barely-formed cry.

"I'm trying to help you!" barked Shadow, grabbing her by the shoulders. "Do me a favor and don't kill me in return!"

"You're—you're as bad as Knuckles," slurred Rouge, hatred sparking in her eyes. "He sent you, didn't he?"

Shadow shut his eyes and swore. Then he again seized Rouge's elbow and began to drag her through the mountains, deeper and deeper into the valleys, overpowering her last desperate attempts to get free. She was too exhausted even to panic anymore.

Finally Shadow dragged her to the end of a gully, pulled her into a cave hidden beneath an outcrop of stone, and shoved her in front of him, gripping her arms and forcing her to look at the bones, rotting flesh, and leftover scraps of red-furred skin spread at the base of a pile of jewels.

"There," he snarled, panting. "There's Knuckles."

Rouge went stiff, then immediately limp, her eyes wide. Choking, she slid from Shadow's loosening grip, dropped to all fours, and retched up the contents of her stomach. Shadow stood by, his face coldly understanding. Horror. Pure mind-numbing horror.

At last Rouge's insides stopped contracting. Lifting her head, she swiped the back of her hand over her mouth and drew a shuddering breath. A strange light had left her eyes, one that you'd never even have noticed until it was gone. Her mind was barely functioning, but also unfamiliarly clear.

"So he's dead."

"Yes, he's dead," said Shadow. "You pushed him off that cliff all right, but he was never revived. When I found the Master Emerald in your house, I started looking. I found your secret hoarding cave here, and Knuckles in it. Like that."

"But why?" whispered Rouge, shaking. Her fingers scraped against the stone floor as she drew her fists closed. "What—w-what—"

"The Master Emerald," said Shadow. "I suppose you thought, all these years, Knuckles was protecting the Emerald from you. You were wrong. He was protecting you from the Emerald. He was protecting the world from the Emerald. That thing is vile."

Rouge looked up at him in mute inquiry.

"Its power is pure evil," continued Shadow, his gaze traveling grimly around the room, passing over the piles of gems and lingering morosely on the corpse in the corner. "Knuckles was immune to it. You were not. It stirred your lust for jewels, hoping to get free of Knuckles' control. When you stole the Emerald, it immediately began to invade your mind, give you suggestions. When Knuckles followed you, it told you to kill him. From then on, it was easy."

"Easy," murmured Rouge, her eyes blank. She couldn't fathom it. Under a spell all this time.

"It preyed on your guilt, using your natural abilities of deception," Shadow's dark murmur continued. "When you found Knuckles with his neck broken, you panicked. You were wildly open to any suggestion, and you got it. You hid the body away in your secret cave, and allowed the Master Emerald to convince you that it had in fact revived Knuckles. Then it got itself taken into your very house, and set to work on destroying you in turn.

"You were still guilty, frightened. You still knew, deep in your subconscious mind, that Knuckles was dead, and you had to hide it. The Master Emerald transformed your guilt into delusions, nudging you towards the brink of insanity, causing you to hurt yourself. To pour gasoline all over your own kitchen, lock the door, and light a match. It wanted to dispose of you quickly and move on to the next doomed soul."

His glance traveled sharply to Rouge for a moment.

"Do you believe me now? Or are you still insane?"

"No," whispered Rouge. "I believe you. I remember everything, I was crazy. But I—I killed him . . . " She pressed her fist over her mouth and shut her eyes, shivering.

"It wasn't entirely your fault," shrugged Shadow. "And it's understandable that you felt guilt afterwards. The first kill is difficult for all. Perhaps it even was for me, although I don't remember it." His red eyes shifted through the darkness, scanning Rouge's huddled form. "The next ones will be easier."

"N-next ones?"

"You can't stay here. The others will find out. They will not understand, since they are mostly immune to the Master Emerald. At least for now."

Rouge drew a slow breath and looked up at him flatly.

"I've got to get out of here."

"And change your name," agreed Shadow quietly. "Disappear. Thoroughly."

Rouge nodded, swallowing.

"I'll cover for you," continued Shadow. "Long enough for you to get far away."

"Thank you." It was quiet, professional. Resigned in desperation, slightly thinned with grief. Rouge pushed herself halfway to her feet, biting her lip. "I'll go. But please Shadow, just a few minutes? Alone, I—I need to say goodbye."

Shadow paused for the span of a breath. Then he nodded tersely.

"Make it quick," he ordered, striding towards the door. At the mouth of the cave he paused for a second and turned back to look at Rouge, slumped over her hands, tears standing on her eyelashes, murmuring some incoherent plea for forgiveness to the silent walls. Broken. This was all that was left? Dipping his head, he stepped outside.

Rouge sensed she was alone now, alone with her own horror and guilt. Thick with the smell of death, the cave seemed to be closing in on her, squeezing at her clear but boiling mind. A murderer. She was a murderer. She choked down a sob.

"Finally," chuckled a voice. "I thought he'd never leave!"

Abruptly the mass of bones and slime heaved itself off the floor and turned the grinning remains of its face towards her.

That was the night Rouge learned how to scream.