It had been a hundred years since Sonic passed away from old age. Cities had changed, people had come and gone, new generations had risen – but one thing remained the same. Shadow.

He stood silently on a deserted cliffside, the same place where they had stood together for the last time. The wind played with his red stripes, his eyes were half-closed, fists clenched. Immortality was a curse. Not a gift.

“One hundred years...” he whispered into the empty air. “And it still hurts like the first day.”

In a hidden base beneath the mountains, he kept something no one else had. A time machine. Imperfect, untested. But Shadow had nothing left to lose. He didn’t want to change the past. He didn’t want to save the world. He just wanted to see him one more time. To see that smile. Hear that voice. Feel that he was alive.

He entered the coordinates. Date: one hundred years ago. Location: Green Hill – the place where it all began.