Dearest Nephew,
Normally it isn't my custom to write letters. Truth be told, I'd much rather talk to you in person; I'd much rather look you in the eye and tell you the things I feel that I have to say.
But I can't, Sonic. I just can't. Things have changed.
He stands over me as I write. In his hand he is holding a small device, hooked up to my chair. I know that when he presses it, I will die. This cannot be changed, as much as I wish it could be.
But I digress. The purpose of this letter is not to bid you a teary farewell from this world, nor is it to explain why I am here. Instead, consider this letter a reflection: a reflection on what I shall cross over into. A reflection on what I shall soon become.
You see, over the last four years – in the time since you restored my free will – I have been digging. Digging for knowledge, in as much a metaphorical manner as in a physical one.
Perhaps I should elaborate.
Back before you or I were ever born – a few hundred years before the now usurped King Acorn came to power – the people of Mobius lived in great fear and uncertainty. Foul plots were afoot at every tier of the society in which they lived, and the king of the time – a man by the name of Eldrad – was a weak, ignorant fool.
Many secret societies sprouted and grew in those dark times, many of them dying out almost as quickly as they had appeared. But one in particular endured: the Society of the Unknowns. Though they were few in number, they more than made up for it with their vast wealth of knowledge – or, more accurately, their connection to the supernatural.
The Society crafted potent, supernatural weapons, and its members composed many tomes as to their function and use. More alarming, construction manuals were also published, though no attempt was ever made to circulate them – the high mages of the Society thought it best to guard such secrets closely.
But those secrets were by no means the only ones kept.
When a new king rose to power, ending the Age of Darkness, he acted quickly to destroy all the heretical sects and cults that had sprung up during the reign of his weakling predecessor. The citizens welcomed his many reforms, and rightfully so; at last, Mobius was able to advance into a new age of technology and achieve its societal potential, free of arcane magics and rituals.
Inevitably, the Society of the Unknowns also fell to the Royal Inquisition; all its members and leaders were slain, and all its connections to the society that once sustained it were severed. The Inquisitors seized many heretical tomes the Society had produced in its time, but this was not intended to deepen the royal repositories of knowledge – if anything, it was to remove the possibility of the heresies ever circulating and starting the cult anew.
Regardless, it was documented by the Royal Historians of the time that the tomes were encoded, that the knowledge within them was contained and sealed with a complex code. Subsequently, with no further use for them, the Historians banished the tomes of the Society to the Forbidden Library, far beneath the royal palace. There, along with the heretical writings of all the other cults, they would sit and rot, never to be read again.
With the benefit of hindsight, I can't help but wonder why they didn't just burn them.
Anyway, a few hundred years passed, and Mobius steadily grew into the beautiful flower it was ten years before now. The Age of Darkness had long been forgotten by those with no interest in history, and as you might be able to recall, life was good.
Before Robotnik's coup, I had undertaken much research into the Age of Darkness, particularly on the Society of the Unknowns. At first, it was just a matter of personal interest – who they were, who led them, what they stood for, etcetera. But as I delved deeper and deeper – further into whom they really were – I soon discovered what they once held. The secret of secrets. Unfortunately, I was roboticized before I was able to pursue the matter further.
Which brings us to the present.
Firstly, I cannot thank you enough for working to restore my free will. If you had not done so, I would still be a robotic slave to Robotnik – and consequently unable to assist you and the Freedom Fighters in your endeavors. More importantly, I would not have been able to do what I have since accomplished.
As soon as I was freed from my robotic state, I immediately began my search for the Forbidden Library. I knew what tome I was looking for, and I knew what it had to contain. The only thing I didn't know, however, was the location of the library itself.
Thus, it was not until earlier this year that I found what I was looking for. Deep beneath the ruins of the royal palace, I at last laid eyes upon the charred and ripped tome composed centuries before by the Society of the Unknowns.
The tome was encoded, as I had read during my research. However, what the Historians of a medieval Mobius did not have, I did: processing power.
Within a matter of hours, I was able to read what had been penned so many years before. It was not the secret of life – no, it was far more potent than that. It was the key to eternity.
Or the blueprints for it, anyway. As soon as I read and reread what was written, I cursed myself for my lack of foresight. Though I had the plans, I had none of the materials that would be required.
I considered stealing them from Robotnik as I had done before on many occasions, but I knew that what I needed would not go unmissed. Indeed, it would take roughly ten years to acquire and construct the machine if I was restricted to taking mere scraps at a time.
No, it would have been impossible for me to steal what I needed. But before I continue this letter, let me make one thing clear: I would never have taken the route I have taken if I didn't have to. I am truly sorry nephew, but it just had to be done this way; there was no other alternative.
When I came to him, he was surprised more than anything. His expression was that of a cat surprised by a mouse; like a lion surprised by its prey. Needless to say, his first reaction to my contacting him was to order my death.
But when I revealed to him what I possessed; when I demonstrated to him that I alone could plan and build a machine greater than he could ever fathom; he started to listen. Slowly but surely, we managed to strike a deal.
Four days ago, the work was completed. The key to eternity – the means by which I will become a god – was finished at last.
I'm sorry, nephew. I know it never should have ended this way. I know our ambition was always to overthrow the great dictator and restore freedom to the people of Mobius. I know how this war robbed me of my freedom, and others of their lives.
But Sonic – my beloved nephew – you must understand. When I become a god, this planet – indeed, this existence – will mean nothing to me. I will be able to will myself to greater planets, to greater and more advanced societies; I will be able to lift myself above mere existence, and make far off people worship me.
I will be able to destroy entire planetary systems with a thought. I will be able to fling stars into space with a word. I will be able to create eternity, and end it. My knowledge will be infinite and I: omnipotent.
As I wrote before, he stands over me as I write. He is holding a small device, hooked up to my chair. I know that when he presses it, I will die. This cannot be changed, nor will it ever be able to be undone.
By the time you get this letter, I will be dead. The chances are that he and I will have already ascended into eternity by the time you have read it. Together, the two of us will walk as gods, unopposed and unrestrained.
I am sorry that he also must ascend to such heights as I; sadly, it was part of the deal – either we both went, or we both restricted ourselves to mortality. We both realized what had to be done; for after we have become gods, this existence will mean nothing to us. All the divisions and alliances of this world shall grow dim, and we will leave you far behind. Though he will be able to transform this world into one of fire and everlasting suffering, I asked that he would not – however, with absolute power comes absolute freedom. I doubt I shall ever witness what he does, for I must travel on the soft winds of knowledge into eternities yet unexplored.
I am sorry it has to end like this, dearest nephew. I weep as I write this. He stands over me, holding a small device which is hooked up to my chair. I know that when he presses it, I will be lifted above eternity itself, and become a god who has always been.
I love you, Sonic Maurice Hedgehog. My beloved nephew, over the last few years you have become like a son to me. No matter what happens – no matter what he does – remember that I love you. Remember that I have not died, but have become a god; no matter how far I travel, my love will always be with you.
I am sorry, Sonic. It had to be this way.
With all my undying, eternal love,
Uncle Chuck.
-
Sonic read the letter again, hoping against hope that he had misread it; that he had misunderstood its meaning somehow. Yet unsatisfied, he read it again; and again, and again, and again.
"What's wrong, Sonic?" asked Princess Sally concernedly as she noticed tears start to roll down his cheeks in silence. He was still staring at the letter, though he had stopped reading it long before. The meaning of it was clear to him.
Placing the letter on the wooden table softly, Sonic rose from his chair and walked slowly to the small, open window nearest to where he had been sitting.
"Sonic? Sonic, what's wrong?"
He could never tell her; it was simply too much – for him or for her, he didn't know. Reflecting on the letter once more, he tried in vain to wrap his mind around the concept that Uncle Chuck and Robotnik were now gods; that they were now creatures of eternity, unbound by anything, or anyone.
"Nothing's wrong, Sal…" uttered Sonic quietly, turning his head from the window to face her. "Nothing's wrong at all… I just… I…"
Trailing off mid-sentence, Sonic realized that it was impossible. Instead, he turned his face back to the open window in silence; and with tears in his eyes, looked to the moon far above.