Eggman's New Toy

Ok, this is my first story so don't expect anything to good. If you arrived here looking for something written by a professional, turn back now. I am only a noob. I will probably continue writing this story regardless of whether or not I get reviews, but encouragement is always welcome. Flames are also welcome; I need to know if my writing sucks enough for me to stop now. I won't ask for reviews, because I don't expect any, but that's not to say they aren't welcome. I just don't expect anyone to bother.

Also bear in mind that I occasionally break the fourth wall in my stories.

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters or anything in this fic, except from my own OCs. I won't name any names at the moment. You'll have to wait and see (if you can be bothered).

Chapter 1- The Abomination

Dr. Ivo Robotnik, more commonly known as Doctor Eggman, waddled across the laboratory, a look of insane determination upon his fat face. He picked up a syringe, before returning to the operating table. Though it would have been difficult for the average person to work out precisely what he was thinking, it would have been safe to assume that he had some devious scheme, some sort of plan up his sleeve to finally rid the world of a certain "blue blur".

This seemed to be all Eggman did recently. Too much spare time on your hands does that to you… Sometimes, he even caught himself wondering whether he actually wanted Sonic gone or not. As much as he would have hated to admit it, Sonic the Hedgehog could, in some situations, be vaguely useful, especially when his master plans spiralled out of control, usually with catastrophic results. And all the time, Sonic was there to wipe up the remains, take out the trash, and whatever other metaphor you would use to describe cleaning up Eggman's mess. Was the world's fastest hedgehog growing on him? Was the deranged man under the assumption that Sonic would sort out the problem, no matter what. Did the doctor continue with these "games," merely to keep his sworn nemesis on his toes? Had, Eggman shivered at the thought, his multiple roles of blubber wobbling like an exceedingly ugly jelly desert, the super-fast, super-cool rodent finally started to grow on him?

A sudden metallic groan from the other side of lab sent all thoughts and doubts from his mind immediately. It sounded like the mixture between a moaning "text-to-speech" voice, not unlike the ones which read out words on a computer screen for people with sight problems, and a whining animal, that had caught a limb in some sort of brutal trap. So ultimately, not the most pleasant noise in the world, but to the gelatinous doctor, it was like music to his ears, for finally, after months of non-stop work and very little sleep, it was awake. The abomination was awake…

As I walked through the corridors of the G.U.N headquarters, I showed little regard to the surrounding people, staring at me in disgust as if I were some unsatisfactory piece of chewing gum stuck to their boot. I smiled to myself; they were all nothing. Who cares what they think? They were here merely to work, and their opinions did not matter in the slightest.

The expression upon the Commander's face had been the most satisfactory part. It wasn't as if the Commander had had a choice. He'd had to re-hire me. I knew it. He knew it. Why argue? After a while, the constant growls of "You're fired!" and "I don't want to see your smug face in my office ever again! GET OUT!" grew tiring. I was used to the Commander's tantrums, but it didn't make them any less boring. If he expected me to stay cooped up in his boiling office, listening to his lectures about risking the lives of innocent victims, and generally causing more trouble than necessary, he had another thing coming. I probably shouldn't have argued back. Any average employee would have been fired sooner than the time it took for the Commander's miniscule brain to process what I'd said. But I wasn't the average employee. I was the best, and no matter what the Commander would say otherwise, he needed me.

A groan… A groan suggests consciousness. Consciousness suggests that a machine is more than just a machine. It suggests that it has a mind of its own. That it can think for itself, that it can plan for itself, and that it can spontaneously and effectively come up with a last minute plan to ensure victory! In other words, everything that the hideously obese doctor wanted in his perfect soldier. Over the previous years, he'd been relying upon mindless drones to do his work, occasionally piloting some sort of mech or vehicle himself into the fray, but ultimately, trusting nobody with his plans but himself.

After he had failed to destroy the miserable hedgehog himself, he constructed Metal Sonic, in the hopes that another brain, albeit a completely artificial one, would make it a lot easier to bring his plans to fruition. This plan failed too, and Metal Sonic was beaten, although this time Eggman had been more impressed with the result. Most recently, Metal Sonic had nearly beaten the supersonic hedgehog and his friends, but was defeated when Sonic, Tails and Knuckles used the power of the seven Chaos Emeralds to defeat him. Metal Sonic had gotten a lot closer to ridding the world of Sonic than many of Eggman's own plots. But the betrayal still stung. He'd never understood why Metal Sonic had felt it necessary to lock him away, discarding him as if he were a sweet wrapper which had been cast aside, its sole purpose to contain the inner treat until the time for revealing itself was right, and it had no need for that which had preserved it and kept it safe for so long, anymore.

But the whole topic of Metal Sonic was beside the point now. Eggman finally realised that the key to success was a combination of a real, natural, unaltered mind, such as his own, with the enhancements and added benefits of numerous contraptions and doohickeys. Or, to put it into simpler terms, organic and artificial, metal and flesh.

And Eggman had pursued the "perfect component"; somebody who behaved in their life, as he would want his creation to behave in its new life. It wouldn't have been hard to adapt the mind to his will, but a ready-prepared brain is much better than a gooey former husk of the mind, which had been damaged beyond repair in hope of bending it to Eggman's whim. No, it was better this way, with as little tampering taking place as possible.

"I knew I should've steered clear of the drink…"

Eggman glanced and his monstrous creation. This comment was most unusual, although if he didn't want to mess around with the abomination's head, he knew he'd have to put up with a lot more remarks such as this. At least it hadn't been very rude. Yet...

"God, this place stinks! One can only stand so much egg, you know! Ever heard of an open window?"

The eggy one wobbled over to his new toy, ignoring the comment.

"I am Doctor Eggman, your creator. I will be subjugating you to further tests and experiments. You will not resist. You will refer to me as "master," at all times, and will answer to nobody else but me. Do I make myself clear?" he said, his multiple chins rippling as he spoke.

"Well, isn't this just dandy!?"

"And you will not make any snide or rude comments, in any way shape or form, which could be considered insulting towards your master, his intelligence, or his inventions," said the frustrated scientist. "Do I make myself clear?" He repeated, for good measure.

"Whatever you say, chief," said the creation sarcastically.

"Whatever you say, master!" corrected Eggman, in all seriousness.

"Oh boy, am I in for a long night…" The deranged doctor glared at the cyborg creation upon the operating table, and cleared his throat loudly. "Master…" It finished, looking somewhat sulky…

That's all for now. Though I've planned the story, I still take ages to type it all up. None the less, I shall continue until someone tells me otherwise.