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.