PROLOGUE

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。・。・。

S H A D O W     R O B O T N I K

1 9 . 0 6 . 1 9 2 1    –    2 0 . 1 0 . 1 9 5 1

T H E     O N E     W H O     W A S     S T I L L     A L I V E
W H E N     W A S     I N     F L A M E S

I N     H O N O R     O F     T H E     S O L D I E R
W H O     E N D E D     T H E     C H A O S     W A R

can be read on a bronze plate, which has acquired a grayish hue over the years. The letters and numbers, together with the spaces between them, are large enough that there is no need to stand in front of the monument itself to be able to see the description clearly. One can conclude from this that the aforementioned hero deserves to have the words enlarged, unlike other historical and legendary characters who lived before and after him. Although the truth is he didn't become famous shortly after his death. It must have taken 50 years for more about his existence and deeds to be unearthed, and these to be deemed worthy and even necessary to be shown to the world by history enthusiasts. For 23 years, the monument of Captain Robotnik has stood in the public Cemetery of the Soldiers of the United Land, from where a 15-minute walk takes one to the United Federation Military Museum, which is one of the most important places in the country, where the hero of the Chaos War has an exhibition dedicated to him.

     Little Hope read the words on the plate two more times before tilting her head back in order to watch the front of the soldier's image again. She isn't personally a fan of art, although she did state that whoever made the sculpture seems to be fascinated by Shadow's life story, because they captured every detail of his person with impeccable precision. The way it is made resembles a combination of Greek and modern sculpture. The artist showed the truth about the captain's body without idealizing any part, and it looks so real that one might think a part of life or the soul of the deceased is put in this bronze. Such associations come to mind when one stares at the well-preserved proportions, folds of the clothes, delicately windblown hair, clear features of the face, and the posture that seems to give the figure lightness. Something as if Shadow's frozen in mid-motion.

     "Is this your older brother, Grandma?" wanting to be sure, she asked the woman in her late 80s, who she was holding by wrinkled hand with visible veins.

     The woman turned her sunken face towards Hope and smiled softly.

     "Yes, my little," she said, then looked again at the sculpture's gently raised face. "To tell the truth, we aren't siblings of the same blood as you and your sister, but he always was... and is like a real brother to me," finished quieter.

     Hope managed to hear the sadness gathering in Grandma Maria, related to the aforementioned deceased man. It made her feel uncertain about this topic. But since the grandma had brought her to this place, she could probably ask about Shadow. Ah, right... Why did they come here?

     "Grandma... Why are we at the cemetery? Today is not All Saints' Day, right?" she was speaking slowly. "But Mom said today is an important day. Anev– Anniar–"

     "Anniversary, honey," finished for the girl.

     "What's "anniversary"?"

     "An anniversary is a day when we remember an important event, and sometimes we celebrate it grandly. Today, we remember the 73rd anniversary of my brother's death. Four days later, we celebrate another, the end of the Chaos War."

     Hope was confused. She remembers celebrating the end of the war, but she couldn't recall ever hearing of or attending the anniversary of the death of someone close to her grandmother. It wasn't her fault.

     She isn't the only one who knows little about the important family member. She only recognizes Shadow by his first name and his military rank. Even the memories of the monument are hazy. Perhaps because she was a smaller child than now back then, not particularly interested in such things.

     "On this day," Maria continued, "I want to tell you the story of my dear brother. You, our family, friends and others. I want him to be heard from my lips again. I am ready to tire my old voice with the true story of the man who saved our world. And this time, no one dares to doubt paying him respect," said the last sentence as if in a whisper to herself, and there was a part of determination in her hoarse voice. "You see, Hope... I am the only one left from the Robotnik family, who remembers him when he was alive. Actually, Grandpa Ivo knew him too, but looking at his current state, I wouldn't get my hopes up. And even if he did remember... he would only try to make a fool of him," giggled at the memory of her cousin, his tricky memory and his attitude towards Shadow.

     For many long years, Maria Robotnik hadonly talked about Shadow with a select few, whose number is less than 10 personsnow. Whatever it is about him, it had always made her retreat into her shelland avoid talking about him, even when she wanted to yell at those who spokewrong about his figure. She was silent because it was hard for her to face thehorde of die-hard chauvinists and national socialists, even fascists andracists who remained after the last war that had befallen the UnitedFederation. Decades ago, representatives of these groups had particularly proclaimedloudly that Shadow shouldn't be hailed as a hero but as a traitor to thenation; he was boldly called a "terrorist." To counteract the spreadof hatred, Maria had written a collection of memories about her adoptivebrother, which she later turned into a biography containing indisputablesources about the man's existence. She was encouraged to publish the book byher relatives and those who interviewed her, whose hearts softened by themoving story of Captain Robotnik. Maria wrote the biography only once and gavethe interview only once, after that she fell silent.

     She had hidden the pain and loss deep inside, quietly and imperceptibly. But it ended the day she held her little granddaughter by hand, standing in front of the admiring monument of the defender of her and humanity. She removed the lock, but no one knew what motivated her to do so. Today, she was going to tell why.

     "Come, Hope. Let's not keep the rest waiting for us too long."

     The girl was sauntering with her grandmother toward the exit, yet continued to gaze at the majestic bronze sculpture. One more thing intrigued her.

     "What is he holding?" she pointed at the hard-to-name thing the captain was holding in his right hand.

     Maria also looked back. However, more than at the thing indicated, her attention was drawn to her brother's visage. She knows it's just a symbolic representation; nevertheless, she feels that this carved face was the one Shadow had when the clock was counting down the last minutes and seconds of his life. She knows that when the end was coming, he felt unimaginable pain and intense fear, but on the other hand, he was determined and didn't allow himself to hesitate. He had a goal he had to reach at any cost, even if that meant being forced to go through torment worse than on the front. He was aware of his act and the consequences of it, yet he broke through the barrier of anxieties and stings of remorse. He knew he'd save the world at the cost of his life and being called a traitor to his homeland. All of this is engraved on his image. It looks so real that Maria believes this was truly the expression Shadow had that day. The expression of suffering, fear, courage and regret.

     "This is a symbol of the flames mentioned on the plate. Shadow holds a fire that could turn our world into ashes. He sacrificed himself to destroy this fire," replied, looking at the man's raised arm.

     Hope had a hunch that this couldn't be just any fire. She would soon learn that this is the sign of the greatest, most dangerous weapon ever invented. It was a weapon that was kept in a deep secret. All files and information about its existence were very strictly confidential. This weapon was called the Flames of Disaster. And the plan for its creation, concealment and use was known to the privy ones under the codename "Iblis".

。・。・。

Image: Paul Benney

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