Omega took a step forward, into the mysterious, new territory. His ocular scanners darted every which way, a calculated but rushed attempt to take in everything the machine possibly could. His initial, cursory scan gave him two vital pieces of information.

"SENSORS INDICATE DISPROPORTIONATE PERCENTAGES OF USELESS SACKS OF FLESH THAT WILL ACCOMPLISH NOTHING IN THEIR MEAGER LIVES. SENSORS ALSO INDICATE LARGE QUANTITIES OF CURRENCY BEING THROWN AWAY FOR NO DISCERNIBLE REASON."

It was then that Omega deduced the only possible place he could have been.

He was in a casino.

The realization washed over the E-series robot all at once, and he wanted to turn tail and run then and there. Alas, he was unable to do so. Not only because his stubby little robo-legs didn't allow him to run, but also because he was on a mission. According to Rouge, his mission was to "procure as many valuables as possible, to ensure future success."

The reason why she had put him up to it, instead of doing so herself, remained a mystery to the machine. He would run a program simulating rage over it later.

Omega waddled over to the nearest gambling peripheral he could find: an ordinary slot machine. Sitting before the life waster was a silver creature with a questionably-shaped set of quills. Omega cross-referenced the shape of the quills, in order to come up with a suitable insult for the flesh sack before him.

The insult newly loaded in his memory, Omega shoved the hedgehog out of the chair. As he did so, he declared in the hedgehog's general direction, "STEP ASIDE, SYRUP-HEAD."

Omega's sudden aggression had taken Silver off guard, but he managed to not fall on his ass like a total buffoon. Instead, he floated slightly off the ground, raising himself only enough to let himself stand. He turned to Omega, who had situated himself on the seat before the slot machine, and asked with a hint of incredulity, "'Syrup-head'?"

Omega turned away from the smoking slot machine, the lenses in his eyes swirling to indicate his databanks loading a properly witty retort. Before Silver could get too creeped out by the robotic glare, Omega finally responded, "YES. SYRUP-HEAD. BECAUSE YOUR HEAD RESEMBLES THE LEAF OF A MAPLE TREE. THE SAP OF WHICH IS USED TO MAKE MAPLE SYRUP. HUMOROUS, IS IT NOT?"

Silver shook his head after only a moment of consideration, and Omega turned back to the slot machine, whirring sadly. The machine then withdrew his fist from the hole he had punched into the slot machine, causing the machine to catch fire and money to start spilling out en masse. "WHAT A WOEFULLY INEFFICIENT MACHINE," decreed Omega, "TO SUCCUMB TO THE FLAMES OF THE JUNKYARD AFTER ONLY A SINGLE BLOW."

After panicking for a split second, Potleaf the Panicky utilized his psychokinesis, smothering the flames with the nearest objects he could find. Unfortunately for Omega, he was one such nearest object. The robot gave an extended, albeit unenthused vocalization of pain, long enough for Silver to realize his folly and release Omega from his psychic grasp. "Uh, sorry," Silver said, trying to awkwardly rub the back of his head but getting his hand caught in his quills.

"APOLOGY ACCEPTED, FLESH-SACK," declared Omega, making a dough angel out of the currency scattered beneath him, "FOR I HAVE ACCOMPLISHED MY OWN GOALS."

Silver managed to free his hand from the shackles of his hairstyle, but before he could form a legible response, Omega sat up and turned to the hedgehog. "ANSWER ME THIS, PSYCHO SACK. WHY GAMBLE LEGITIMATELY WITH YOUR SKILL SET?"

Silver rubbed his chin in thought, a question mark nearly forming over his head. With an apparent change to his countenance, he raised a finger intellectually. His erect figure sagged immediately after, and his expression became one of defeat. "I don't know, actually," he replied.

A low, steady warbling emerged from Omega's vocal banks, and it took Silver a few moments to realize that the noise was the robot's way of laughing. The hedgehog's brows furrowed, causing the entirety of his giant head ornament to sway slightly, and he retorted, "Well, I'm not the one literally burning away his savings!"

Omega was about to chide the hedgehog's erroneous use of "literally," only to look down and realize that no, his dough angel had indeed become a soot angel. A sad whirring emerged from the robot once more. "OH," said he.

"Please leave me alone," Silver pleaded, taking very long steps so as to not have his feet crushed by Omega's waddling titanium feet.

"NONSENSE. WITH OUR SKILLS COMBINED, CHEATING ANY GAME IN THIS ESTABLISHMENT SHALL BE A NON-ISSUE." The machine's head servo rotated incessantly as he spoke, in desperate search of the losers that would be easiest to con.

The hedgehog sighed, before replying in a resentful whisper, "Maybe you shouldn't say something like that so loudly."

"WHAT WILL THEY DO?" asked the E-series robot, warbling emerging from his nonexistent mouth once more. "CALL A SECURITY GUARD WHO CAN CARRY A ONE-POINT-FOUR TON ROBOT TO THE EXIT?"

Silver indicated the pair of security guards by the entrance. Specifically, he indicated the taller of the two, who was a forklift.

Omega's demeanor fell. "OH."

When Omega returned his attention to his milquetoast shiny compatriot, he discovered that he had seated himself at a blackjack table. He approached slowly, making as little noise as a computer running fifty apps at once in two hundred degree weather could.

Silver eyed his hand; he saw how risky it would be to get another card. He smirked in smite of this fact, though, and turned his attention to the dealer. The dealer hardly paid any attention to breathing, much less to the ongoing hand. Silver leaned in and told the dealer, "Hit me."

Omega complied, knocking Silver right out of his chair and onto the floor. Silver looked up at the machine's imposing figure, holding his cheek, which had nearly been caved in from the force of the blow. After staring unwaveringly at Silver, Omega asked, "WHY DO YOU CHOOSE GAMES YOU CANNOT CHEAT AT, FLESH-SACK?"

"One," started the hedgehog, his speech only slightly slurred by his injury, "stop talking about that out loud." He then got up and whispered to Omega as he signaled his hand, "Two, who said I couldn't?"

Omega's eyes literally lit up as he asked Silver, whispering as best a murderous death-robot could, "YOU SWITCHED OUT YOUR CARDS?"

Silver nodded and puffed out his chest, his gesture of pride mitigated only slightly by his concave cheek. Omega took a peek at Silver's hand, 3 cards large due to the previous hitting. His eyes dimmed, and his eyepiece swerved to meet Silver's eyes. After a second-long pause, he asked, "HOW DOES ONE MANAGE TO BUST EVEN WHEN CHEATING?"

The resultant shock returned Silver's cheek to its default, babyfaced self, and the fuzzy hedgehog took a large step back over to the table. He snatched the cards from his robo-stalker, and sure enough, he had three cards: all kings. He turned to Omega, throwing the cards frivolously behind himself. The cards then flew into the eyes of an unsuspecting bystander, causing him to blindly stumble over a table.

"You did this!" he snapped. "Your intrusion ruined my concentration, so I couldn't do what I wanted! You must pay!"

"WHOA, BRO," retorted the robot, holdings its claws up in front of itself. "CALM DOWN. IT IS JUST A GAME."

"Of course you wouldn't understand," Silver spat, his eyes glowing green with the combined might of psychokinesis and a teenage temper tantrum. "You haven't seen my future! All that ruin, caused by my inability to do well in gambling!"

"…WHAT?"

"You heard me! Because I didn't win in that hand, my future is doomed! And it's all your fault!"

Omega looked to either side of him, to see if anyone knew what Silver was actually talking about. Seeing that nobody else was even paying attention to Mr. Maple, he commented, "THAT PREMISE SOMEHOW MAKES EVEN LESS SENSE THAN YOUR PREVIOUS BACKSTORY."

"I've heard enough," Silver said, his hand starting to glow green with psychokinetic might. A green outline surrounded the dealer's table, and with a flick of his hand Silver sent it flying at Omega.

With a robotic kiai, Omega karate chopped the table, snapping it in two and sending splinters flying straight up. The robot's other hand then whirled around and withdrew into his wrist, giving way for a missile launcher. "YOU WANT TO DANCE, SYRUP-HEAD?"

A plethora of objects, all with newly-bestowed green outlines, hovered behind Silver, his eyes glowing more intensely than ever before. More weapons slowly emerged from Omega, one by one, his red lenses glowing just as bright as his opponent's eyes. The two stood, dead-locked, waiting to see just who would make the first move.

Rouge hummed to herself as she descended upon the sidewalk, cradling a brand new set of treasures in her arms. Her humming eventually gave way to quiet laughter, as she said to nobody in particular, "Man, that was all too easy." Her gait slowed as she pulled a communicator out of her pocket, muttering, "Now to see how Omega's doing."

Rouge turned on the communicator, and it flickered to life near-instantly; through it, Rouge saw Omega standing stock-still, an orange hue in the backdrop. The sight confused Rouge for a second, but not enough so to make her lose her composure. "So, how went it?" she asked.

"MISSION FAILED," said Omega, his gaze unwavering.

"Mission failed?" Rouge repeated, her composure faltering that time, if only briefly. "What happened?"

"CLASSIFIED," the robot responded, seconds before a greenish sign sliced clean through his top section, removing his eyepiece. Before Rouge could ask, Omega continued, "ROUGE?"

Rouge sighed. "What is it?"

Although Omega's visage took up the majority of the communicator's display, Rouge still discerned that Omega had started running away. "HOW MUCH WOULD IT COST TO REPAIR A BURNT-DOWN CASINO?" Another greenish object flew at Omega, lopping one of his arms off. "AND A RUINED FUTURE?"

Rouge rolled her eyes and turned the communicator off. She returned to humming to herself as she walked down the street, all too content with not knowing a single thing Omega was talking about.