Prologue: I Am Jack's Blinding Hatred
Russia. So cold, so quiet. Even after the fall of the Soviets, it is still the world's largest nation. And yet, despite its considerable size, it is so sparsely populated. Those tiny people, like rats, occupy only one small area, oblivious to the fact that there is so much world out there to see, to explore…to conquer. Oh, well. More world to conquer for me.
Siberia. Desolate. Empty. Silent. Such a beautiful land, and so unforgiving. No one even dares to come out this far. They are afraid. They fear the uncertainty of the land, the cold, and the solitude. They are afraid. They fear the winds so strong that vision is a liability, the want of sun due to the thickness of the clouds, the harshness of nature in its purest form. They are afraid.
It suits me so well.
The Krack-Karov Volcano. A masterpiece of nature. A work of genius in its simplicity. So simple are the mechanics of an active volcano; either it erupts or it doesn't. It spreads a deadly river of molten rock over the earth, or it doesn't. It destroys everything in its path, or it doesn't. So beautiful. So random. So simple.
I don't like simple.
That is why I built this place. I set up my base in the most perfect landmark in the most desolate reaches of the farthest corner of the planet. Hand in hand with the masterworks of science and nature, I will use this claw to strike through the very souls of my enemies. From this desolate land, I will soon rise to rule this world as the Supreme Being that I am. 'All hail Clockwerk!' they will proclaim, as they marvel at my excellence. But my mission is not yet complete. He will arrive soon, and when I finish him, there will be none to stand in my way. I will succeed, for I am superior.
CLOCKWERK'S LOG ENTRY RECORDED AND SAVED
He sat on his pedestal, in the highest point of his tower, motionless, silent and cold as the technology that surrounded him. Towers upon walls of computers and data banks crowded around him, dwarfing him despite his massive size. They all reached out to him with their wires and light beams, feeding him, sustaining him. He sat, motionless, completely integrated into the knowledge around him, absorbing it, melding with it. Indeed, he had become knowledge, brainpower, intelligence itself. It was his ideal existence. He was the nerve center of a budding empire, he was the controller of everything around him, and soon he would control even more.
His Death Ray Tower was nearly complete. Despite his stillness, his minions would continue to work around him, receiving his orders through an electronic connection to his mainframe. His plan of defense was seemingly flawless, but as any genius knows, not all plans succeed as they were originally intended. He needed to prepare his contingencies. His yellow eyes flashed open and focused on a monitor welded into a wall across the room. As if guided by his will, the screen flashed on and displayed to him the inner workings of his laboratory. One of his robotic lackeys, a small wood owl, noticed the screen behind him turn on, and quickly placed his tools down to acknowledge it.
"Good evening, Master," he droned. "To what do I owe the honor?"
"Spare the pleasantries, 26," Clockwerk responded. He had neither need nor desire to name each of his underlings, so he referred to them by numbers. "I need to know the progress of 'Project: Revival'. Are the vessels responding to the artificial intelligence program you've developed?"
26 guided the camera toward a row of giant glass tubes. Inside each one was a fully-grown raccoon, gray and black fur matted to their skin due to the moisture of their environment. They didn't move, speak, or even breathe. They just floated there, in a solution of questionable origin. After transmitting a suitable visual, 26 stepped in front of the camera.
"These are the ones that we've been able to keep alive in cryostasis. Unfortunately, there are not many possible candidates among them. So far they have all rejected the protocol, and there is only one test subject left,"
Clockwerk silently cursed the incompetence of his scientific division, and finally spoke again after an uncomfortable silence.
"26, you disappoint me. If this is the best you can do, I wonder if my organization would be better off without you,"
"Sir, what do you mean by that?" the lab technician asked.
"I created you and every other subordinate in my ranks. I hold the key to your destruction right here. And, look, it appears that my talon is hovering over your termination switch right now," he scowled, as his leg reached out to an adjacent control panel.
"26, your services are no longer required,"
Click.
Instantly, the small owl had powered down and fell apart in his standing position. A custodial crew arrived within seconds to carry off the debris. A second bird scientist, a black falcon, stepped in front of the camera.
"How may I serve you, Master?"
"Number 48, access the data banks and get me a background on the remaining test subject. I want to know as much as possible about my prospective heir,"
"Yes, Master. I will put the information through to your central processor immediately. You should be receiving it in your tower soon," the assistant said as he typed into a keyboard next to the camera.
Nearly four seconds later, an image flashed onto another monitor.
ACCESSING DATA BANK:…
REFERENCE: PROJECT REVIVAL…
TEST SUBJECT: A-10-HX
DATE OF RECORDING: JUNE 13, 1982
"Master Clockwerk, we've been tracking the traveling patterns of James L. Cooper. We believe we know where he is headed next. Should we prepare the strike team, sir?"
"No. I want the satisfaction of killing him myself. Besides, I hear he will be married soon. We will wait for at least ten more years. By then his children will be grown enough. I want his death to mean something more than placating my own hatred. I want a family from which to take him. Imagine how crushed they will be. It will be spectacular,"
"Sir, I don't understand. Why not kill him now and be done with it?"
"I have other plans for them. That should be enough for you. Now then, have you found a suitable subject for Project Revival? I would much like to see the fruits of your search,"
"Sir, I have found a passable subject. Take a look at this. Name: Diana W. Stavros. Date of Birth: 2/18/58. Place of Birth: Grevena, Greece, but currently residing in Tokyo, Japan. She's not of their bloodline, but she bears a striking resemblance,"
"Excellent. Send a retrieval team and have her brought here as soon as possible. How is work proceeding on the genetic transmitters?"
"Splendidly, sir. Ever since our scientists succeeded in totally mapping your genome, we've been progressing way ahead of schedule. We have developed microscopic nanocomputers, capable of trapping airborne amino acids and constructing proteins into your exact genetic layout. In addition, these tiny computers are capable of passing that information on through the process of conception, almost as well as their biological counterparts. I dare say, you may be able to call any successful test subjects 'son' or 'daughter',"
"I prefer not to use endearing terms like that. These things that we will create are naught but vessels for me to occupy, should the need ever arise. I will live forever, one way or another. Have the scientists completed the Artificial Memory Assimilator?"
"They have, Master. Once the test subjects come of age, they will be subjected to a computer simulation that will form the basis of their memories. In essence, they will believe whatever you want them to believe,"
"And after that?"
"After that, they will be kept in cryostasis until you decide to release them. At that time, you will become a part of their psyche, controlling their actions and their thoughts. Thus, you are reborn,"
"Impressive. This project may prove to be worth something after all,"
As the voice data recording ended, Clockwerk perched in silence, contemplating the conversation he had just reviewed.
Damn the fact that I had so much hubris back then. I would try not to be so proud in the future, but it is impossibly difficult to overlook my perfection.
"Sir, I just received word from the technicians in the cryogenics lab. It appears that the final test subject has accepted the program. Project: Revival has been deemed a success,"
"Excellent, 48. Have the subject taken to suspended animation and await further instructions,"
"Aye, sir," 48 responded, immediately cut off by the klaxon blare of the red alert. Flashing crimson filled every room of the tower as armed avians filled the skies around it. Through it all Clockwerk remained still, maintaining his communication with Number 48.
"Has he arrived?" he croaked in a metallic tone.
"Yes, sir. The Cooper van has begun its approach on the tower. We'll send in the airborne fighters to combat them,"
"Has the rest of the Fiendish Five been mobilized?"
"Sir, they have all been defeated by Cooper and arrested by the police. We've lost all contact with the rest of their cronies," 48 said, looking up from a clipboard he had snatched off a table.
"Then I will fight him alone," Clockwerk said, finally beating his wings and becoming airborne. "Protect the subject at all costs. If it looks like the tower will not survive the battle, then take it somewhere safe and wait for my orders,"
"Yes, sir. I will proceed accordingly," 48 saluted, then the visual connection severed, leaving the screen with a white flash, and then blank. Nothing.
So, Sly Cooper, the day has come at last when you will avenge the death of your father. I hate to disappoint you, but you will die tonight as well. You will not stop me. I am superior…
LOG ENTRY RECORDED. CLOCKWERK'S LOG SAVED AND DISCONTINUED.