Disclaimer: I'm a puppet, I own nothing.
Fine Line
The writing across the walls was the sign of a man obsessed. Gerald Robotnik had once been revered as the best of his field, a genius some had said. The man had proved that there was a fine line between genius and insanity, an even finer line between courage, and stupidity.
Some said the endless strings of C,T,A and Gs on the walls showed Robotnik's desperate search to find where he'd gone wrong, others said he was trying to remind people of what he'd really been trying to create. Nevertheless his incessant scribbles were a puzzle to everyone, the mumblings of a genius, or a madman.
Project Shadow had consumed the man's soul. He'd treated the creation as a son, a child, the military's Bioweapon, it was obscene. Despite everything Robotnik hadn't deserved to lose his daughter, it had destroyed him; finally pushed him over the edge, for all outward purposes, the man was mad.
But inward? What thoughts really went through his head? Were his purposes really so ignoble? The actions of a terrorist, deserving of death? Or rather were they the last ditch attempts of a desperate man to protect humanity from its own stupidity, and undo the wrongs he'd done? Were they the actions of someone with nothing left to lose?
Robotnik promised revenge, retribution for his losses on the ARK. He declared that his creation, Project Shadow, wasn't finished yet, its revenge was not yet complete, its anger not yet sated. The power of its rage was only outmatched by the strength of its love and the depth of its loyalty. It was more dangerous than anyone could imagine. Locked away in the isolation of endless dark and cold its rage and anger would only grow, tormented by its own fury and despair. Project Shadow would attain retribution for humanity's sins, with or without its creator.
Of course Robotnik always spoke fondly of it, called it him. Spoke to it in the dark, called it by the most repulsive of pet names. At night, when he dreamed guards heard him mumble about how he longed to hold it and his daughter in his arms again. The man had twisted priorities. Sometimes he would mumble "father's here little Shadow…" It was nauseating.
Robotnik's determination was something to be admired. No-one denied the magnitude of all he had achieved, but the man was soft. He lost track of the purpose for which Project Shadow was conceived. He fell under the spell of his own creation. It dominated, and ruined his life. Then Project Shadow lots control of itself.
Gerald Robotnik released the firestorm upon humanity. The cost of opening Pandora's Box was paid for in lives. Not least those taken by Robotnik himself in his desperate attempts to destroy those he'd helped create, the Thousand. For these crimes Robotnik was shut away, left unvisited in his cell, for the only thing that loved him suffered an equally bleak fate. Robotinic's actions served only to take him further from his goal, he put the fear into Project Shadow. The created monster seemed destined to spend eternity in its dark and mindless prison.
For his sins humanity saw fit to remove Robotnik permanently. In doing so they destroyed by electrocution seemingly their last hope of appeasing Project Shadow's anger. The fate of humanity it seemed now rested in the hands of the Created itself, in its heart, the tormented spirit humanity saw fit to design and try to control.
It seems all creations rebel against their creators…