Sonic T R3NOVATED Chapter 1: The Beginning, a sonic the hedgehog fanfic

A/N:

AAAAAAHAHAHA... Last updated 11-10-04?? And now it's 5-5-10?? Heh. Oops.

So here's the deal: I'm rewriting this. So if you, for some strange reason, have the old copied saved, please, for the love of whatever, DELETE IT. This version is ten times better. No, twenty times better. I promise you.

And I am completely embarrassed by the old version, too.

So this is my third attempt at writing this story, thus the name (Actually, technically this is the fourth, but, whatever). I've changed the story up a bit, and hopefully there's a middle to it this time (before I had the beginning and the ending all planned out, but no middle). I've taken a character out, and I've replaced her with another character. And hopefully, HOPEFULLY, I will finish the story this time. We shall see.

Anywho, enjoy!

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Sonic T (R3NOVATED) - The Beginning

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--- Chapter One: The Beginning ---
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Thunder cracked. Lightning flashed. A chilly wind blew with enough force to push even the strong astray . All of this made the dark night seem even darker. This was a night in which the little pathetic creatures and dimwitted humans of the area could think of nothing better to do than to take shelter in their beds and warm, cozy blankets. Mwahaha! Ah yes, it was typical evil-doer weather; ideal conditions for a mad scientist to plot in. This was so typical, in fact, that it was on a night like the one described that the "Organization of Misunderstood Evil Geniuses" held a special meeting.

As if the setting could not be any more typical, the eleven members of the group were all sitting around a very large, very round metal table inside a large but shabby house with two floors. A large sign reading "Meeting of the O.M.E.G. in progress," hung from the lone door at the top of the stairs that led to the second floor. While the first floor was nothing extraordinary (it had the typical rooms filled with junk there, crap there, and crappy junky junk way in the corner over there), the second floor hosted only a single, plain room. It was large, and it served its current purpose quite nicely. In the middle of the table in this room there was what appeared to be some sort of circular opening. Well, it looked like it could open. The only view to the outside from this room was through its ceiling, which was made entirely of glass, with several panes. It was not the typical sunroof for a house.

Lightning from the storm outside flashed bits of light across the room ever so often, but the light was very inadequate for such a room; the room's main sources of light were the large fireplace behind the chair of the host of both the meeting and the house, and the lightning that flashed from overhead. Although it did not perturb the members at all, it was hard for anyone to get a clear view of one another. It was especially hard to view the face of the host, whose large chair stopped any light from the blaze behind him from touching any part of him. All that they could see of their host was the silhouette of his long mustache. But none of that matters now. All of the invited guests knew who he was and what he looked like, and the same went for any other being sitting at that table. It shall be left at that.

Why is there a meeting, do you ask? And why plan a meeting on this night, of all nights? Well, if you must know, the reason, as the host had explained to the others, was that something very special had been completed no more than a few hours prior to the meeting, and these people, with their eyes and ears now curious and attentive, were gathered here to witness the "special" results. Oh yes, it was something very special indeed. It was something that took years of research and months of planning, yet less time to put into action and produce. It was something that required plenty of brain work, technology, mechanics, and bioengineering, not to mention a little DNA from a very well-known rodent.

But let's rewind a bit. Let's go back just a few months ago, in which the first evil steps of this project were taken...

It was a bright, happy, sunny day, quite the opposite from the conditions described earlier. In fact, this warm, summer day was a day in which one would find no problems enjoying the beach on. A perfect day to just relax, to lay down on the warm, grainy sand, to soak up the hot rays from the sun while at the same time enjoy the small peaceful breezes, or to have fun catching the cool and salty waves as they came rolling in on the shore. Unless you have errands to run and people to see, or unless you cannot stand this world - not - in - need - of - saving atmosphere, like a certain hero. Indeed, this slow-paced day was a little too slow-paced for this particular being, to the point that said didn't mind picking up little odd-jobs here and there, as long as it meant that he was up and doing something

A blue blur flashed in his wake.

Although times like these brought peaceful bliss to the rest of the world, to Sonic the Hedgehog it was brought little else than vigilance. If he has made this many attempts to take over the world, or to crush the world's fastest being on the planet, there's no surprise that Dr. Robotnik will strike again. This peaceful time is only the period between attempts number 75242 and number 75243, and everyone should know it. The time will come in which he will strike again, so if his hideout can't be found before then, gotta keep a sharp lookout for anything suspicious. Gotta be prepared…

"Sonic!" Tail's voice snapped him back from la-la land.

"Huh? What?" Sonic blinked, but continued to run. It was less than a minute ago, on the other side of town, that he came across some red-haired woman in need of a fast delivery concerning a letter. Said it was urgent...

But that was beside the point.

No, he didn't mind delivering the little white envelope, for it gave him something to do, and an excuse to run. But why was it to be delivered to a robot? That's what got him thinking about Robotnik. Robotnik makes robots, and way too many of them are not known for being the brightest in the tool shed, nor the sharpest in the crayon box... wait, was that mixed up somehow? Well anyways, way too many of his robots were obviously not present when intelligence and brains were handed out. He'll give ol' Eggbutt some (but not too much) credit for Metal Sonic, though (although maybe it had to do with whom it was modeled after). However, this letter-receiver was definitely no Metal Sonic. Tails (who apparently was curious enough to get up close to the thing and inspect it as the letter was being passed over, and as the robot muttered mere nonsense to Sonic) claimed that it did not appear to be one of the doctor's toys. But who or what was it trying to fool with those big dumb glasses with the big dumb nose and big dumb moustache? You can't even fool a two-year old with that Groucho Marks crap...

"SO-NIC!" Tails, trying to catch up, called ou to the blue hero again.

"Gaaah!"

Sonic fell down, making a sandy imprint of himself on the ground. It was a typical for the sand to be wet enough at this spot for such an imprint. They were right by the gate, where the beach met the hotel pool at Station Square. Sonic was heading back towards the tall buildings and busy roads in hopes of snatching another "fast" job.

But it wasn't Tails that made him fall.

Sonic looked around to see what made him fall. he spied a small sharp object with what looked like blood on the edge of it, and it was then he became aware of a slight throbbing pain in his right leg. He cursed when he checked his leg and saw a small gash that the sharp object had gifted him with. People were starting to stare (damn, why'd this have to happen in such a crowded area?), and Sonic did not like this embarrassing-type of attention.

Tails didn't help the situation when he hadn't noticed that he had finally caught up with his pal. Until he ran into him, of course.

"Ow, Sonic. What did you so, trip over your big feet again?"

"Hey, I tripped, but NOT over my own feet!" Sonic snapped, "And besides, since when do I trip? You make it sound like I trip all the time!"

Tails gave Sonic one of those questioning looks, and started to open his mouth.

"Yesterday does not count, Tails."

Tails closed his mouth.

"And it was the driver of that car who is at fault, not me."

Tails poked the ground with the tip of his shoe. "If you say so, Sonic."

"I do say so, little buddy." He grinned and patted his two-tailed friend on the shoulder, whom was staring hard at something...

He was staring at the cut on Sonic's leg.

"Tails? You alright?"

"You're… bleeding… Sonic…"

"Oh, yeah. I think I cut myself when I fell."

It was then that the caffeine must have set in.

"Ohmygoshweneedtoputsomethingonthatbeforeitgetsinfectedandthenweneedtogetsomethingtocoverthatsoyouwontgetstuffinthecutthatwould..."

Sonic slowly backed away from his now bugged-eyed friend. "No, really, it isn't that bad. I can just..."

"NO!" Tails screamed, "We get something on that. NOW!" And with that, the fox-boy grabbed his injured blue friend by the arm and flew off to the place they both called home. Apparently it did not occur to any of them that they could have stopped at the hotel and got something to take care of the injury there. Although Sonic had an excuse, for this outburst had left him quite speechless.

The people at the pool stared at the two as they went by. Suddenly, an arm, and then a body completely cloaked in sand-colored fabric, popped out of the sand at the place where Sonic fell. In this person's right hand was the piece of metal Sonic got cut with. On it was such a minute amount of Sonic's blood, but it was apparently enough to make this stranger happy. He laughed a very typical evil-doer laugh.

"Bwahahaha! I've finally got it: Sonic's blood! With this, I shall create the ultimate weapon!!!"

Everyone at the pool stared at the cloaked stranger, unable to make any of the overall bizarre event out. A little girl with chestnut brown hair piped up, breaking the silence.

"Mommy... He's weird..."

"Shhhh... Now, Nyoko, that wasn't very nice," replied the little girl's mother, "Now, he can't help it if he's a bit… different, I'm sure..."

The strange sand-camouflaged person grinded his teeth.

"Oh, this will so be the first city I destroy after finishing my wonderful creation!"

A few months after the incident…

It was a dark room. Anyone who entered would be greeted by nothing else but flickering lights from buttons and electronics and a dim green glow from a small bubbling screen. A forbidding feel hung in the air, the kind that stops and brings you to reconsider the current area in which you are investing your presence at. A blip, a bloop, and buzzing noises echoes back and forth from all sides of the darkness, save for the side with the only way in and out. How big this room was from wall to wall, it was hard to tell, but with all the electronics and blip-producing mechanics, there was really no space left over to pace around in. A simple walkthrough, a chair, and a small area to walk around to inspect the current status of things were all that there was room for. The typical claustrophobic would last not even five minutes here.

From the other side of the source of the dim green light, there came a yelp, which was cut short by a thump. The door opened and a well-built feminine figure stood in the middle of it all. Only a hand with twitching fingers could be seen of the robotic guard from the doorway. The uninvited guest pocketed the small device used to knock the thing out. The woman was silhouetted against the light from beyond the room, her features hidden by the light that poured out from behind her. How bright the light was, invading the room with a sad attempt which was promptly cut off with the door closed with a slide and a "fwoomp," followed by a click. The darkness won in the end.

After taking some time to adjust to the brightness (or lack thereof) of the room, heavy boots made their way towards the center of the cramped room, the steps clearly stated that they belonged to one very upset individual.

Quite an understatement.

"That BASTARD!" The unauthorized intruder's spat overpowered the bloops and blips throughout the room, but not by much.

"How COULD they? And after all that I've done, after all the I've contributed to the group! Why, without me, they wouldn't have been able to go through with…"

She continued to shout at the air. It didn't matter how loud she got. The noises of the room made a good match for the fits and curses she flung out. She was to leave the organization and its headquarters immediately, for no one saw fit of her ideas and hypotheses, nor for her current projects. She hung around though looking for help in return for a "good deed" that she had done not too long ago. Instead, and quite to her surprise, she was shot down. After all that she had done!

"And to top it all off, HE was included in the group that voted me out! The bastard!"

Yes, yes, she knew she had to leave. She was no longer welcomed here; in the organization, at her so-called-colleague's house, let alone in the basement level where most of his projects and experiments took place. Not to mention here, in this room. Not with that type of security for it. Unless the recently knocked-out guard was there just for a lack of something to guard.

She snorted at the thought. Yeah, that'll be her luck.

"Tsk…"

But this was a room in which she could vent without being overheard. However, that was not her sole purpose for forcing her way into such a place. Ah no, she was now on a mission, one that was not given to her by anyone else, and quite a sinister one.

Mmmm, sweet revenge. Sweet, sweet revenge oozing and dripping with honey heated from the fiery depths of hell itself. Oh yes, there will be hell. Dammit, there shall be hell to pay. Especially as far as that traitor is concerned.

After all, doesn't the deepest circle of hell specialize in said?

Hmmm, let's see. Whatever did she help him with a couple of months ago? It sounded important. It sounded big. It sounded like something that would be such a shame to have gone wrong.

Therefore it must go wrong.

Oh, what a shame that would be. What a complete and absolute shame. For him, that is. A snicker escaped from the revenge-seeker. But what was it? Ah, well, if she cant find out what it way, the she'll just have to pick another one of his projectors to devastate. Or two. Or half a dozen.

"Hello, what's this?"

So caught up before in her ranting and scheming, the outcast had only now begun to take in her current surroundings. Blips, bloops, and buzzing greeted her. These noises meant something was in progress, and that meant that she had better get busy.

It was not hard for her eyes to be drawn to the dimly-lit green screen that was not too far off from her. Beneath it was a keyboard consisting of far more buttons than the typical computer keyboard. It was just barely visible via the green illumination from the source above it. As she inched closer, she saw that the screen was a window. On the other side bubbled green liquid, bubbling and keeping whatever inside of it nice and snug. So much brighter it was now that she was closer…

A transparent screen overlaid the window. She touched a key and words that contrasted so well from the green background sprawled across the screen. It described what exactly it was the unwelcome guest was viewing; The date, the, er, materials needed, the process that was gone through in order to obtain it, and now.

Not only did she find the answer to her question, but this was it, she had found it…

The object for her revenge.

Oh yes, this was going to be good. Like delicious, sticky honey. Like sweet, sweet revenge.

Mmmmmm. Yumsters. Got to pause for a second now, just to savor this moment of sweetness, this idea of revenge.

Pause. Heeeeeee…

All it took was eight minutes to hack into the program, for she knew her former-colleague all too well. Then came the tweaking. Oh yes, just a little tweaking; a little tweaking that would, in the end, go a long, long way. That did not take long at all, for she knew what to do. This was a magnificent way to screw up this little project. Within the hour she had done her sabotaging, locked the changes she made, and covered her tracks, giving the appearance that nothing was thrown off track. Unless they do some heavy-duty digging, no one would notice what she had done.

Until, hopefully, it was finished. The someone would certainly notice that something was amiss. Unless the person was blind. Blind as a bat!

Let the victory music ensue!

"Hahaha! And knowing him, he'll call a meeting those other closed-minded freaks to show this off as soon as he hears it is complete!" The woman grinned, oh quite an evil grin, too. It broadened as she thought of the possible outcome for her actions, especially when she reached one that she favored the most.

"I do hope that he doesn't find out about this, hmm, 'tweak' until it is revealed then!" But she didn't really fear that too much, for she had covered her traces well in this dark room, and her victim had this habit of not checking up on the progress of his work.

Rule number 174 in the Evil Genius Guidebook: Always periodically check the status and details of your work. If you don't, then things shall most likely go wrong.

He never was quite good at following the guidebook. He likes to get things started and let them go until it's completed. Dumbass. Maybe he'll learn after this, but then she'll miss out on a lot of fun opportunities… and laughs!

Like now.

With that, she quietly crept of the room, in a mood very much improved from the one she came in with.

Thunder cracked. Lightning flashed. We return to the meeting from before, about half a year after Sonic's "accident" at the beach. Although it was, by far no accident, explained the head-evil-genius of this meeting. No, all this was, indeed, all done to create the perfect…

"…cybernetic-organic clone of Sonic??" The member who spoke, who merely repeated what head-fatso had said, was obviously flabbergasted, his mouth did not close after saying those words. He was not the only one by far. After a while though, the sound of murmurs spread throughout the room, as well as questions.

The grin plastered on the house's owner grew. Oh how he dreamed of this day! To be the maker of, to be the mind behind, such a spectacular creation! To have completed a project like this. A project that is worthy of (and therefore shall be) boasting of and showing off to this group of---

"E-excuse me, Sir…"

Stupid mechanical subordinates. They always end up disturbing great times of glory like this. Stupid, bad, dimwits of scrap metal. Gah…

"What… do you want?" Perturbed? A bit? No, of course not. Not only did this three-foot tall mouth-less steel pod on two wheels interrupt his "meeting" (a better term to put it rather than "show-case"), but the stuttering squeakiness in its robotic voice meant that something had gone wrong in one of his many ongoing experiments. He did not like it when things go wrong. When things go wrong, heads fly. Oh, and do they fly…

So therefore, the plump host did not want to hear it. Not at this time, not right when he is about to achieve a high seat of honor in the minds of all those sitting at the table. "Later!" Yes, heads can fly later.

"But Sir…" The emphasis placed on the last word disgusted the host sitting in front of the fireplace. It resembled far too closely the sound of a child, whining to its parents over getting some toy at the toy store.

"FB-19, ARE YOU EVEN WITHOUT THE CAPACITY OF HEARING AND COMPREHENDING?! I SAID LATER!"

The robot, FB-19, gulped and backed away. Its black eyes, usually about the size of teacups, or oblong-shaped ones, were now the size of dinner plates. And they were just as round to boot.

Meanwhile, the other members simply observed the creator/master and the creation/subordinate. The had watched this disruption like it was a Broadway performance. Shit, for them to have witnessed such an insubordinate robot of his, such a thing was hard for this egotistic genius to put to the back of his mind, but somehow he did, and continued to spill out details on his latest work of art.

He described the amount of research he put into this project. How, he had designed the mechanical arms and cybernetic-eyes before he had obtained Sonic's DNA, produced those parts and the clone at the same time (all done with automated machines, machines that he himself built, as he constantly brought up), and combined both cybernetic and organic parts to create…

"A weapon that can stand up to anyone who gets in our way! The ultimate cyborg! And here it is, my perfect creation!!"

He had just barely finished that last sentence when he pushed a large red button located on the right-hand arm of his chair. Out from the center of the table, came a good-sized cylindrical container, which made churning and clicking noises as it slowly came up to view. Light coming from the bottom of the tube illuminated its contents. It was filled with a dull green liquid which surrounded Sonic's clone. But something didn't seem right.

FB-19 slowly started to slink away, to get out of sight. Everyone just stared. After a while, a very brief while, many tried hard not to laugh. Real hard. But they ought to get some credit.

"Um, uh, sir?" One of the men sitting at the table finally spoke out.

"Yeees?" There was nothing that could prevent the tone of anger and of great disappointment from escaping with that one, single word.

"It's got boobs...."

"So it does...."

"Why did you give Sonic boobs? Is there something you're not telling us sir?"

"……… GODDAMMIT!! WHY IS IT FEMALE???"