Shadow had had a hard week, since he had found Mighty's body in an alley of the city. The armadillo condition was if not, the most horrific and disgusting thing he had seen in some months, it was difficult to tell at first if it was someone at all, but when he recognized him, he chaos controlled with him to his room in the hotel. Since then it had been too long days of watching the body recover itself, an interesting and and the same time, a morbid spectacle.
He had been wondering when that place's weird power would finally take action over the poor armadillo, he really hoped it was soon, it was starting to affect his psyche, and he began feeling something he hadn't ever feel, tiredness. That day he had contacted Eriks, and asked him if he was really going to wake up, he trusted him, and some people around the building, if they said he'd wake up again as long as the body was still there, then he'd wake up again then, and he'd be there looking over him.
He was leaning against the wall that was near the bed, resting his eyes, having them closed. All his other senses focused in the armadillo. He had been used to hear only his own breath, that Mighty's sounded so weird to his ears when it reached them. Shadow approached to the bed in total curiosity. The armadillo's voice sounded pasty, as if he had only been doing nothing else but sleep. However, he felt somehow relieved that he had recognized him.
"You have much to explain." He said in a blunt tone, he was worried, but he wasn't about to ask how the armadillo was feeling, not after what Knuckles had told him about Mighty had probably let himself die.