For any person, what happens, happens. Regardless of consequence in their actions or personality or the factors around them, it is still a random force of nature. Nature, or whatever spiritual force in the sky, universe, or stars. For one to believe in total absolutes for all eternity would be folly; the deities are fickle.
Then again, what can be said about the individual actions? Say an evil man, or what would be seen as evil, beat his child every day for many hours. Would that child be as stable as another who wasn't abused? Then again, who can be so sure? The public and masses could make a good case though.
That being said, when one finds themselves in a situation beyond any normal sense, laws, rules, what can be said about nature that hasn't already been said before? Beautiful and terrible; savage paradise. It was that way all the time. Beauty is in the eye of beholder; nothing is more certain than this.
On a planet that resembles Earth, nothing is quite familiar to a man. A quilt of colors and fauna and when the world spins, it rattles. At least, that is the case in this land. If the man stepped foot onto the soil he might even say it is a fable; a myth-like paradise for dreamers. But he would be wrong; the air is too cold, the grass is just a bit too bristly and the animals seem to have an affinity for being too humanistic.
Case number one: a blue hedgehog. Here it is normal. What is normal? That question is irrelevant. Do not ask it for the man would be laughed at and ridiculed. Case number two: the blue hedgehog can talk. Since when do hedgehogs talk? The question is irrelevant. Do not ask it for the man would be laughed at and ridiculed. Case number three: The hedgehog is incredibly fast. Can hedgehogs really run at the speed of sound? And… etc. etc. etc.
All of these observations would hold water if you were from another planet other than this one where the tale takes place. In a wacky workbench and a collision chaos such 'rationalizations' are pointless. To rationalize would be seen as madness and madness sanity. What of that eccentric on the mountain? He who always tinkers away in his spare time, alone and always bitter. Always striving for greatness but only getting humiliation. He is a doctor by profession but mad scientist in dream. What about those three animals that live in a run down office of professions and lost hopes? It is absurd to even think of it; a chameleon who walks alone at night and a crocodile. Croc-odiles….
A Technicolor fabulous land; a bee pollinates his ego. That is the way of the land and a community tightly knit by airy prophecies and promises; pink and blue, purple and orange, yellow and pink, red and black, black and blue, blue and white…it goes on and on and on.
The blue hedgehog walks and talks like he has experienced life even though he is only seventeen and a little pink hedgehog in a pink frock and skirt and dress that likes shopping fauns over his beauty. The alien observer would be hard-pressed to find any logic in such a situation but like before, the alien is non-existent and therefore, unimportant.
The planet has no name. Not to those cosmic eyes. But for the anthropomorphic creatures it always was and will always be THE WORLD. What of the few humans? THE WORLD. And the robots? THE WORLD. And the ground? THE WORLD, THE WORLD, and tomorrow and tomorrow it will be known as such for as long as it can be…
There is a fox with gloves and two tails. He calls himself Miles Prower but everyone knows him as Tails. The fable begins with him.
Wednesday is coming around the corner. It'll be awesome because that's my birthday. Ten. That's how old I will be. It's been a strange two years. Few things happen anymore but I like it that way. What's interesting is how we all are sort of…confused? Kinda scary. But I don't feel much different than the year before and the year before that. Nothing transforms like that, in a blink of an eye. I'm sure that I will feel different a long time from now, but it's weird.
Maybe it's because that when we come into the world, our bodies are always shifting and moving; I know that I wasn't always like this. I know that cells are constantly changing and replacing themselves. Like a machine. I was a baby right? Babies are strange creatures I think. When I see people playing with the toddlers, I find it hard to connect with them. They seem odd, but I can't avoid staring at them. And when did I become aware? Was it gradual? Who knows but it is a thought that's been bugging ever since that strange light illuminated the night sky. He didn't seem too concerned; he didn't even care.
The others laughed it off except for her. But Amy was always curious. Nothing came across as banal or boring or….
I turned around and there he was, my 'brother'. My friend. My only reason I was here. He smirked as he patted me on the shoulder. I was sketching out the body of an insect on the branch. Its whole design was incredible. I was always into things like that. He didn't seem to get it but that was okay. He at least understood what made me feel good and sure of myself.
"It'll be great, right Tails?"
I nodded and smiled. It would be great. All my friends, my 'family', would be there, assuring me that the future would be bright and cheery. But still, the future…the changes I will go through. How frightening! And exciting…
He turned around and vanished. His feet carried him wherever they wanted to go. They were red. Red shoes. They would always run and run and run. And he would never stop. This was certain and this I knew. That's when a scary thought hit me. I would change and so would he. Could he always run as fast as did? In a hundred years, would he even run?
I felt my two bushy tails. Two tails. How did that happen? This was something that no one seemed to notice or question. It was one of those things I guess that people just refused to acknowledge. It was irritating though, seeing 'big brother' shrugging whenever I'd be asking him if he knew my parents or if they were still alive. He found me, he should have idea.
I stopped thinking about it. I continued my sketch. The insect disappeared. I sighed and closed my book. Maybe tomorrow I could continue the drawing. Until then, I would continue modifying the plane. Our plane. It was his as much as it was mine. I smiled as I lifted the garage door, seeing that blue, elegant air craft sitting in the corner. "At least you won't change," I said.
But that was wrong of course. I still had to add some finishing touches. By the end of the week it would look different. It would have changed.
Besides the fox, there was another apprehensive but ambitious individual who also wanted change. But not the same way as Miles. The fox boy had nothing but nervousness and hope in his heart. Dr. Eggman, as he called himself, wanted everyone to love him or hate him. Attention of any kind was enough for him.
He was a gentleman in private; a madman in public. He was portly and wore an array of increasingly eccentric outfits that reflected his flamboyance.
The days had taken the spirit out of him. Now he only watched Tails do his work. For some reason it brought him happiness to see the young fox do what he loved.
I stared at the little fox, drawing that insect. On the large surveillance monitor it seemed like a monster on paper. He was so intense in his work that when Sonic came into the picture, he showed a look of irritation that I knew all too well. When one works hours and hours to construct not just a machine, but a work of art and to see it ruined by the most ignorant and unfair forces in the world, you cannot help but be angry.
My chair was making me uncomfortable and I turned to look at the little robots, all winded up, with springs and gears in their necks, working diligently on the machines, making sure everything was working correctly. So much had happened this past year. Death, redemption, sacrifice, it was all pretty ridiculous in terms of scale and scope but who was I to argue with fate? And we lost someone very dear to us all…
Or at least, dear until after the he was lost. It was complicated in the aftermath. Nobody knew for sure what to think of such an individual. He was magnificent to say the least, beautiful and elegant. Not in appearance but in his world. His world was beautiful. I wished so much for a world like that but nobody seems to understand what I mean. Nobody understood what he meant, that's for sure.
I stroked my mustache. I loved doing that. It was just so long that it demanded to be stroked for maximum 'sophisticated' effect. The screens all went red and the alarms started going off. "What's going on!? Report!"
The little clockwork robots stood tall and started to furiously look into their computer screens. Tapping and little sounds of machinery filled the room. I decided I would take a walk outside. Something was making me very nervous. I stepped out into the hall way, away from my work. My machines. The halls contained all my home furnishings. Oak tables and dark green carpets. It was finely tailored. Of course it was. My grandfather only wished for the best in all of us. Poor old soul…
On the pedestal was a picture of Maria. I did not know her. She died when she was very young, or rather, she was murdered before her prime. She was the reason he was beautiful. This much I know.
I sat down in my favorite chair. It was a simple chair. It just had two arm rests and a simply back. I liked it because of its craftsmanship. Though I probably shouldn't sit in such a magnificent piece of art, I had to fulfill its purpose: to be sat in. That was its function. I could not deny it that for that would be insulting the working artist who made it.
I decided I would take off my dark tinted glasses. Before I could though, one of my E-Series robots burst in, waving a giant piece of paper in the air, beeping and buzzing, rattling off annoying phrases that grated on my ears. "Sir—doctor-eggman-sir—unit 13 has escaped—reasons—unknown—action—desired?--awaiting orders--"
Unit thirteen. I jumped out of my seat and ran back into the control room. The image was on all the monitors. Unit thirteen. My eyes widened. That was one thing I did not want to remember at this time. It seems the past has a way of creeping up on you.
The doppelganger had escaped. His twin. I thought he had been sealed away for good, away from everyone, away from previous animosity which had now died down. Everyone knew that peace was solidified. I had abandoned my childish fantasies and now provided machines for the humans beyond the mountains. Why had he decided to escape? How had he activated himself anyway? Unless….
I remembered what Tails had written down in one of his little sessions out in the fields. He mentioned something about 'ever-changing' and the 'inevitability' of things coming full-circle. I swear that boy has issues.
That was it. The robotic clone of Sonic clearly changed. Changed enough that he no longer desired to remain in infinite stasis. But why? That was truly terrifying. Fulfill your purpose. I remember uttering those words to him. It. It had obeyed and failed every time. That purpose, I remember, was to destroy Sonic. Destroy. Murder. Kill. Destroy. Repeat. Repeat was the key phrase. But then I aborted that order. Will the GEHIRN program work?
Will he have changed? I began contemplating the possibility of a new conflict. Something ignited by past aggravations.
But that was before. People change of course. That is a given in life. No matter what, they change. Even for a second, may it be on their death bed or in the grass, kissing a loved one, change comes. Change.
I felt an urgent desire to tell him about it. Him. The one whom had been a source of great frustration for so many days and weeks. Him. Now a fountain of youth and happiness. He brought me joy now. What compelled me to go to such lengths? It was a tough time in my life I am sure…
I would tell him about it. I would warn him. But warn him about what? At the moment there was nothing to be warned about. It was speculation at this point. I picked up the emergency line and phoned Sonic's home.
Before peace and reconciliation, Sonic and Dr. Eggman inexplicably opposed each other, sharing two different views on life and the world; to dance is to live, to live is to dance. The world is meant to be practical and suited to the individual.
Collective versus single was not going to work. Sonic was one with everything when he ran but could be relentlessly selfish. Dr. Eggman, with his bizarre fascination of eggs, could be terribly dogmatic in terms of nature but fundamentally wished for a land of happiness and utopia. One could say they were misunderstood, even two sides of the same coin. But in either case, one went to extremes at one point and the product was a mechanical copy of Sonic.
After the conflict, one believed that they just pretended it never happened.
Systems functioning--
Main processor--OK
Internal core--stable
GEHIRN protocol--ACTIVATED
REVIEW OF PAST COMMANDS
12343048782037408273048723084720837408327480327
--67-abort mission
66-revert to 'neutral'
65-retract defense system
64-abort priority
HOLD-CODE-13 12340817203871208371028738012 WHAT IS PRIORITY?
DIRECTIVE EGG
Define DIRECTIVE EGG--
3r0r8y08y08y08y08y30y08y08y110101010100101011203982098302980938209382
1238087087345
345345345345--DIRECTIVE EGG--
TERMINATE TARGET DESIGNATED 'SONIC'
Define SONIC--235r
2353252y
SEARCHING FORerrrrr-3r333333333333333333333333333
53252wyERWGEWRweryweryw53rERRORERROReqrqrqwrqwrqGEHIRNPROTOCOLINEFFECTewriewrin
Erienrineirneinnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnooooooooooooeffecttttttttttttttttttttttttt333333333333
3000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000
0o00000000000000000000
PRIOr--rriitgyyyyyyyyyy--
t—t—t--eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee—
ee--e-- 39399999988-8--t—erminate.ddd…..
3333333333333333333333333333333DEFINE
DEFINE
DEFINE --SONIE--SONIEEDCDSDFF--DEFINE SoNICeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeehhhheedgeeehogeeeeeblueeeeeegggggMANnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn
WhOOOOOOisSEgGGGmann??Q??
WHOOooosi iidisi is is isisi--
--is SoNIc.??
Whw eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee—
3333333333333333333333333333333DEFINE
WHJwDHohcihcc
redsho e ssss bluedddddd&qwho is,s,s--is--si-who-sssa—a--asdxckkkkkkkkkkkttttttt
Who--aam--3wrr I I ii iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii……………….
RESTART. RESTART…..
Restart…..restart…..
Resr…
e.r.
.e.e.
…
…
….
…
…
.
.
..
.
(((..my…..head……
Head…..he0--he--
--he--)))
SYSTEM FAILURE.
EMERGENCY REBOOT INITIATE--
Deep in the woods, a robot clone of Sonic, inferior in every way, stumbled upon its very own folly of existence. It erased all traces of itself and decided to die but this did not happen. The GEHIRN protocol would not allow it. For Eggman had gone so far as to implant the thoughts and memories of Sonic, into the robot clone.
Eggman had spied on their lives; Sonic and Tails, the others; he spied them and stole a bit of the experience. It became the GEHIRN protocol, ensuring that in any situation, the robot would be able to sustain itself; it would feed off those emotions, memories; images and faces. Some would be more familiar than others.
Metal Sonic, as he was called by the living, would be like a child. Eggman hoped this would be but like most children, they are capable of much destruction.
This is the way the world operates. Let us continue the fable in much more detail….
End of chapter one
