Maudlin
This time, I was more prepared for the stomach-churning sensation of teleportation, but nonetheless, I still threw up the remains of a half-digested protein bar. Gosh, now I know just what clothes feel like when they're thrown into the dryer.
With blurry vision, I reached out for support and gripped a metal hand.
I gasped and staggered back in shock, only to be greeted by the stare of an unmoving Robian. I raised my weapon, pointing it first at one metal arm which held a cavalry sword raised in salute and the other where a large moulding yellow cape was draped over, but the Robian himself stood still, inert, like a suit of armour of aeons past, its eyes unlit.
Not functional.
Feeling emboldened by my turn of good fortune, my eyes flick across its familiar, stern, yet gentle features seemingly chiselled onto its frozen face. Then, an epiphany struck me. "Armand" I whispered. The former Acorn's Kingdom's top general, Antoine's Father, reduced to a mere coat hook.
A cold chill ran down my spine.
No, I mustn't succumb to despair.
Instead, I look around my surroundings, and found that this wasn't my bedroom. I wasn't sure what I'd be expecting, but it certainly wasn't this cavernous room. Had the mirror sent me to a different cavern? It was either Robotnik had made some major renovations since I had been there last or …
No, I recognized where I was: the former Ministry of Science Building, Robotnik's Citadel.
It had to be, for there was nowhere else in all of Mobius that held such sophisticated equipment; banks of the most advanced scientific machinery stood humming, whirring. The very nerve centre of Robotnik's operations. I thought about the potential damage I could inflict were I to fire blindly, attempting to destroy as much as I could. No, that was a terrible idea. Robotnik could always replace his machines. Keep calm. Remember what you are here for. Bunnie's medicine.
I heard muffled echoes of screams ringing down the hallway.
My armour gave me a slightly bulkier appearance than usual. Perhaps, if I moved slowly, robotically, I would pass for a menial Robian worker. No, that wouldn't work, unless. My eyes fell upon the tattered cloak. Yes, that could work. I could use it as a shawl, obscuring any distinctive features that would give me away. I gingerly extricated the tattered old thing from the frozen Robian.
I felt a strong sense of guilt as I wrapped the cape around myself. "Sorry sir, but I need this a lot more than you," I whispered to the gravely still form of the General. It felt like robbing from the dead. As I did so, I felt a cold clink of metal against skin. Reaching into the pocket, I extricated a war medal from it; it was tarnished and could use a little cleaning. As I traced my fingers along its distinct eight-pointed Maltese cross-shape, I knew it was important to Antoine. Had to get it home.
Examining myself, I had confidence that my ensemble would resemble a bot at least from a distance, while shrouded in shadows. I moved in long confident strides, building up the character of a Robian and headed for the screams. Screams meant Mobians, and Mobians meant medicine. Hopefully.
Surely, Robotnik would make sure his test subjects were healthy before they became his automatons. Injuries were accumulated before capture. Injuries that would be a detriment to their servitude, and as numerous as the Robians were, they were still a precious commodity.
I heard screams again. This time louder. Closer. Sweat crept across my brows. Remember why you're here. I twiddled my fingers. I felt my knees tremble. Yes, I'm afraid, but not as afraid as returning to Knothole empty-handed. Not as afraid of the fallout when news of Bunnie's ailing health broke.
Taking a deep breath, I breached the threshold of hell.
It was horrible. Stolen schematics and blueprints provided by NICOLE afforded me nothing in the way of anticipating its scale. It was more massive than I could possibly imagine. My mind took a moment to process what it was seeing: Prisoner Processing.
There, the possibility of rescue ended and where the certainty of eternal servitude to the mad Dictator began. What made it somehow worse was that only a tiny portion of the cavern was filled. About a hundred cages were there. Stacked in places three or four deep and guarded by a substantial number of SWATbots. Just how many had there been during its 'heyday'? My mind swam with unbelievable numbers and nightmarish calculations.
Within the cages were members of the 'Wolf Pack Nation'. I had heard rumours of them. They were a semi-nomadic resistance group based further North in the 'Thunder Plains Zone', former members of a protected reservation. They were hardy, but now, their luck had run out. Then I spotted a Red Cross at the far corner of the room: medicine, medicine for Bunnie.
I made my way across the cavernous chamber. I stuck to the sides, trying to be stealthy. Stay focused, stay tunnel-visioned. Staying blind to the plight of the captives. I almost made it half-way across when I heard it.
"Good child. Things won't be so scary with grandpa here"
"Diablo, you have a funny name."
"I know that Aerial, you remind me every day."
Here, it wasn't just the wailing cries, terrified screams, begging, rationalizing, howling, blood and torture that tore a hole at my soul. My sensitive ears could pick up the comforting voice. A thick veneer over mounds of disgust and terror. I slow my gait involuntarily. I had to see. I turn my head to the cage.
Ten feet away was a large metal cage. Insulting, demeaning, like a kennel. An inhuman thing made of wrought iron bars. Inside were a half dozen Wolf Pack warriors having their arms stretched through the bars. Screaming, crying and threatening, but behind them an older Wolf was coddling something unusual: an Overlander Child. "How many is this Aerial?" Diablo asked holding up his outstretched hand.
A scream rings echoes out from across the chamber. I shudder. A she-wolf had attempted to break free from her captors and was shocked for her trouble. Even from this far away, her moans and defeated cries could be heard, like an animal certain she's about to die. Aerial whimpered, craning her head to find the source of the disturbance. But Diablo gently touches her cheek and turned her back.
"How many fingers is this Aerial?" Diablo asks.
Aerial's lower lip trembles. I could smell her fear. It was like a poison spreading, saturating. But Diablo was keeping the Overlander safe and distracted in a small bubble of affection.
"Three fingers."
"Three, yes three. What comes after three?"
"Four"
"And what comes after Four?"
"Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine and Ten". The child answers; her lower lip no longer trembling.
"Clever girl"
The Overlander pressed her cheek against the wolf, shutting her eyes tightly. As Diablo kept her contained within his arms. I didn't know what to do. My mouth was agape. I ducked behind the shadow cast by the cage.
"Stay out of the way, Mobian. You. It's your turn." Two SWATbots had stepped into the cage, seizing the older wolf by his hands. He growled but goes peacefully with his captors.
"It's alright I'll take care of her," said a blue-tinted wolf.
"Monsters!" a pinkish female shouted, rushing at her SWATbot captor and immediately I smelled sizzling flesh and burnt hairs from a low-intensity stun beam. "Just you wait. The Freedom Fighters. They'll be back. And it'll be your turn! Sonic will turn you into a pile of scrap." she coughed out, slowly rising to her feet.
"Lyco shut the hell up!" the imposing wolf calls as he wraps his muscular frame around the Overlander child protectively. The SWATbots slammed the cage shut locking it with a simple padlock. Just padlocks. I could break them easily. The wolf jerked his head, but I slip back into the shadows, breaking eye contact. I saw the SWATbots dragging a thrashing but quiet Diablo away to his fate.
I had to do something. Anything. The reach of Robotnik was incredible. Hundreds of Wolf Pack warriors were here. How many were already processed? Nausea flared through me, guilt ebbed through my veins. The Red Cross. Just sitting there a few dozen feet away. "Bunnie" I repeated, reminding myself why I was here, "You're here for Bunnie".
I heard a strong inner voice as though Sally herself were speaking to me. "Couldn't you do both? Get the medicine first, then free as many as you can." What medicine should I be looking for? I didn't know. I should've been better prepared, but then again, I never expected to get this far.
"Oh, Bunnie," I whimpered. "I'm an idiot."
Wouldn't you even try? The inner voice prodded again.
No, if I try to do both, I shall attain neither. I know these decisions. My life is defined by these decisions. I turned to the cages. At a stretch, I could free perhaps three or four before the SWATbots would hear the commotion and investigate. Who should I free? I thought of Tails. My heart cried out for the pups. My mind with its cold-hearted logic told me to save the adults. They were easier to organize. My guts screamed a combination of the two. To give the adults something to fight for. In the end, did it truly matter who I freed?
"What would Bunnie do?" I asked myself. 'Go, Sally Girl' she would say. 'Cause as big a ruckus as ya can. Give em all the chances ya can to live free.' "I will Bunnie" I whispered under my breath as I slunk towards another cage.
"Who are you? If you're a Mobian. Help us please!" an older female wolf with a crocheted shawl asked when she saw me.
"A friend," I remarked. "But only a temporary one."
"It's Princess Sally!" one of the older ones gasped. Of course, her face was instantaneously recognizable.
"Shush, please shush," I begged so they wouldn't give the game away.
The resulting silence was deafening. In spite of the dozens of hopeful eyes tracing my every movement, I felt like I could hear a pin drop. My heart sank. This was a mistake. It would be a slaughter. I couldn't save anyone. Should have done the smart thing. Backing out, ignoring their plight, but I couldn't.
"Quiet all of you. I'll need your help. Hide me while I work."
At once the caged captives obeyed and stood-up, obscuring the view of the patrolling SWATbots. I would free three cages to satisfy Sally's, no, my conscience. With a pause, I dialled the setting on my weapon backwards. Aiming it at the padlock before slicing it away with a short pulse of fire. I winced at the noise, bracing the wrought iron cage as it gave way much quicker than I thought it would.
"Hold it steady, be quiet. Arm yourselves, if you can. Free more, if you can. Raise as much hell as you can." I hissed slowly at the caged victims. Making sure to repeat my instructions several times so they got the message. The pups among them nodded; having such hope, misguided hope, but hope nonetheless of their incompetent rescuer.
"Wait, let me free a few more before you open the door, do you hear me?" I glanced around and saw a cage with the Overlander child who watched my movements wide-eyed. "Them," I hissed. "When I free them, open the door." Collectively, they nodded. I turned to a different cage whose occupants had already stood-up in anticipation to shield me while I worked. Good, two down, one more to go.
A mechanical voice gurgled "Alert loose prisoner. Exercising restraint protocols!"
I broke the lock on the third cage. "Do it! Do it now!" I cried. Three cages exploded forth simultaneously, their wild angry, desperate inhabitants spilling forth. A trio of SWATbots spun around to assess the new threat. I fired into one, straight into centre-body-mass. It staggered, spraying sparks but remained standing. At least, until Lyco struck the bot with a length of pipe causing it to fall over. The remaining two turned. I squeezed the trigger. It didn't respond. I abandoned my weapon and ran.
"Restrain the prisoner" another SWATbot gurgled. I was already running, but my previously sustained injuries slowed me down. The SWATbot leapt on my back and restrained me. Twisting my arms back painfully and forcing me to face my mechanical captor. "Facial recognition ... Leader of the designated group 'Freedom Fighters;" the SWATbot began in its horrible monotone voice.
I didn't look back. I think the escapees got two more cages free. I believe some were shot and killed and others made it to the doors, but none escaped: this I know for certain. Soon, the SWATbot received more support to restrain me. Then I was yanked painfully to my feet, and dragged before a long winding metal staircase all the way to a glass office at the very top.
A flash of images and ideas burned through my mind: Regrets, Denials, Ideas, and most of all, Fear. This was more than personal regret. It was a deep and adroit sense of failure. My people's leaderless because of my impulsiveness and recklessness. My wretched placing of my friends concerns over all else and out of what? Some arbitrary obligation which was never really mine to begin with? I remembered how I had started my diary in the hopes of helping future generations know what sort of person I was. Now, I wanted it burnt. Burnt and reduced to ashes. My people wouldn't want to know how their fearless leader was crying. Crying over her foolishness and stupidity.
I sat still, chained to a chair.
Him I wouldn't beg anything from. Even though that was the only thing I wanted. I wouldn't beg at all. I may have lost my ability to think rationally, but I wouldn't lose my dignity. The SWATbots observed my every movement. I tried to think of any method of escape that I had. There was nothing. Since I had sent Sonic away there was no reasonable hope of getting a rescue attempt going in time. My captors would kill me before I could go ten paces. I wanted to give-up. I wanted to despair, but then I remembered something I read once, a long time ago:
I must not fear. Fear is the mind killer. Fear is a little death that brings total obliteration. I will face my fear. I will permit it to pass over me. And when it has gone past I will turn my inner eye to see its path. Where the fear has gone there will be nothing. Only I will remain.
The fear was eating me alive. Feeding on every ounce of willpower and intellect I possessed. My mind was my only weapon, but without it… I heard feet behind me. I recognized the distinct heavyset footfalls on the stairs behind me. I swallowed back a whimper, a moan, anything that would give away my inner weakness. I clenched my kegel and bowels to stop from urinating or defecating myself. I sat as stiff as I could while trying to remain relaxed as possible. Though it was impossible to achieve both.
"Hello, Ivo Julian Kintobar," I said as I gave my best nonchalant smile to calm my raw nerves. I must not fear.
"Did you have the mobile roboticizer brought in?" I heard his booming voice behind me, causing me fight back a whimper. Fear is the mind killer.
"No Master, we were certain you wanted to interrogate the designated leader of the 'Freedom Fighter' band yourself." a mechanical voice gurgled. Fear is the little death that brings total obliteration.
"It's good then that you metal buckets did something right once in a while." I will face my fear.
He stepped before me, regarding me patronizingly. The first thing I noticed was the scent of rancid breath. The next was his cruel sneer which exposed swollen gums and rows of misshapen yellow-stained teeth. Mostly though I remember his bald, conical head, dark orange moustache and black eyes devoid of any hint of warmth and compassion. The former Minister of War leaned over me, orange jump-suit stretched taut over his enormous girth. I will face my fear.
"Oh yes, it will bring me great joy indeed." His face twisted into a joyous grin as though Christmas had arrived several months early and he didn't even need to break the legs of one of Santa's elves in order to get precisely what he'd wanted.
"You should be grateful, Kintobar, they didn't roboticize me straight away." Somehow, even though my mind was in turmoil, my voice retained its surety, its vigour.
"Whatever did you mean princess?" the dictator asked curiously, clasping his hands together in almost childlike excitement.
"For if they did, you would get a corpse," I announced triumphantly.
"She sure doesn't speak like the princess," Robotnik noted, rubbing the day-old stubble on his pudgy chin.
"What was this one doing?" he asked, turning to his robotic bodyguards.
"Freeing prisoners. Shooting her way through padlocks. Her actions freed five cages resulting in the loss of three units, one by her own hand. All escapees neutralized, " one of the Swatbots replied.
"Padlocks?" Robotnik stood back with a jump. "We still secure prisoners with padlocks?"
"Master Robotnik, with the dismantlement of the freedom fighting band designation 'Wolf Pack' our force field cages were stretched beyond capacity. As per your directives we have defaulted to less power intensive alternatives for storage."
"Get out of my office!" he roared, flecks of spittle spraying in all directions.
The SWATbots filled-out in a hurry apparently out of some pre-programmed self-preservation instinct. In spite of appearances, the dictator possessed a fair bit of muscle beneath his bulk. Had they stayed another moment they would surely been smashed in his all-consuming rage. He paced back and forth, regarding me with great curiosity.
I kept my eyes securely fastened on him. My breathing slowed. My fear left me. Either because I had accepted my fate, or because I had the blossoming seed of an idea. The dictator turned back to me, before wrapping his roboticized appendage around my neck, far quicker than someone of his size should've been able to, but this didn't faze me. I was more than a mere 'criminal' now. I was a curiosity. If I knew the dictator well, he would have his curiosities satisfied before he pulled my head off my shoulders.
Gingerly, he ran a mechanical finger across my cheek. I could practically see the wheels turning within his soulless eyes. I knew that with one sweep of his powerful hand, he could reduce me to a pulp. I fought hard not to give in to every one of my feral instincts. The ones that told me to run, to beg and cry for mercy. His nostrils flare, and he flicks a tongue over his dry cracking lips, much like the forked tongue of the proverbial serpent. It was almost as though he could practically taste his victory now, sweet as ambrosia.
"Why don't you speak like the Princess?" he asked in a gentle mocking tone.
"Because I'm not her, Ivo Julian Kintobar."
His eyes broke into a mocking sneer "Impressive princess, you did your research."
"No, not research at all, my old colleague," I said as I smiled and leaned closer.
"Who are you?" Robotnik asked, with just a hint of confusion his voice.
"You never were an observant one, my old colleague, but this time I don't blame you. As after all, I look vastly different from when we last met. I'm Ixis Naugus." I said in a bemused tone. If he didn't buy my deception the rest was superfluous.
"Oh princess, you're sneaky. How did you come across that name?" he hissed.
Would he know just how much the Sally knew about obscure lore? Not very much. What I knew was gleaned from faded memories buried deep into the recesses of the mind and half-remembered snippets of conversations. If my deception was to be successful, I had to make-up the rest on the fly. "Because it was given to me by the Order of Ixis."
"What's your game princess? No … wait, I won't bother. Why am I wasting my time discussing with this flea-bitten animal?". I cringed at the sound of that, but my blood froze as he tapped a few buttons on his wrist gauntlet "Have the mobile Roboticizer brought up" he bellowed.
"Oh, old friend, I wouldn't do that if I were you."
"And why not?" he retorted.
"Surely, you're aware I've taken precautions prior to our meeting. Attempt the procedure and my fail-safe spells will kick in, netting you a corpse." Yes, if I kept stalling, this could work.
A knock on the door to the office and a SWATbot emerges carrying one of the dreaded single-use devices. "Master Robotnik, here is the Mobile …"
"Leave, at once" he ordered. The SWATbot seemed confused, if such a thing was possible before backing out. As much as I wanted to. I didn't let the immense sense of relief and gratitude show on my face. "Let's say I believe you. For no 'Freedom Fighter' would be would be so bold nor have so specific knowledge from the past. Especially that name … unless that fool of a King told his daughter."
I swallowed deeply. Did he know? Robotnik glared at me for the better part of two minutes, while I stared pleased and polite at him.
"Something smells rotten in Topeka." the dictator growled, each and every syllable uttered with pure distilled malice. "But let's say I humour you … Naugus. How did you get the princess's body?"
"The power of the arcane is a pathway to many abilities some consider to be ...unnatural. Whilst my physical form did indeed atrophy and die in exile within the Zone of Silence, my essence was preserved and my vessel established a pact with me. In exchange for assisting the 'Freedom Fighters' with my 'magic' she allowed me to pursue my cause through her as a proxy."
"What is this cause you speak of?" the dictator asked curiously.
"Why, within the 'Freedom Fighters' I am venerated as a living god. A living god requires subjects. I owe a feudal contract to attend to their wellbeing," I elaborated, gesturing to the caged prisoners. "I consider it my moral imperative to stop incursions into my domain and to free more potential subjects."
"That's it? You desire a fief?" the dictator asked incredulously.
"I suppose yes, a place where I may reign uninterrupted will suffice for now," I confirmed.
The dictator looked me straight into the eye. "This explains your outlying forays then. Little more than pin-pricks in the grander scheme of things. Then why come here, Naugus?"
"Can't I visit an old colleague to make him an offer?" I beamed at him.
The dictator guffawed. "Naugus, surely you're aware I hold all the cards. Just what do you have that-" the dictator began, stroking his chin thoughtfully before a malicious grin spread across his lips. "Oh yes, the hedgehog. I would gladly provide your freedom in exchange for that blue pest."
"I don't think so, Kintobar. I've a different offer in mind. I offer freedom. Freedom from political unrest. And I know how vulnerable you are especially at a time like this," I smiled smugly.
"Political upheaval from who precisely? My enemies have all fallen beneath my boot heel. Who exactly are you referring to that can threaten me now?" he asked perplexedly.
"I wasn't referring to your external enemies. I'm referring an enemy closer to home, a Kintobar."
"I assure you Naugus, I'm not one to sabotage my own operations," his smug smile faltered before morphing into a frown.
"You've doubted it yourself. Haven't you? But of course, having known you for years I know you are short tempered. It clouds your insights and judgement, but surely, you`re no fool. A mysterious uptick of industrial accidents, far more than a mere statistical anomaly would suggest? With seemingly no interventions from the 'Freedom Fighters'?" I suggested.
"You know, most of the time prisoners aren't quite so chatty. Nor do I usually indulge them so. You have my rapt attention, Naugus. That is a privilege extended only to a select few." He replied with his rancid breath.
"Your nephew. What was his name? He was always so unassuming. Colin Kintobar," I recalled at last.
Robotnik raised an eyebrow. "I assure you, they are inconveniences, nothing more. My nephew Snively possess no threat to my operations."
"But he was in the past, wasn't he?" I added with a smug smile. "You forget old colleague that I'm a master of magic. Snively has been begging me for weeks now for me to active his contingency plan: a traitor robot. Implanted within your ranks to assassinate you at an inopportune moment." Good. If I kept feeding the dictator's paranoia. This might work.
Robotnik flings his arms up in exasperation. "The security bots in this citadel are programmed by me and me alone. It's impossible for my treasonous nephew to insert a 'Trojan Horse' within my ranks!"
"This is where Snively requires my assistance. It could well be inserted during the commotion from a 'Freedom Fighter' raid," Robotnik frowned in deep thought. I had him on a hook. "You underestimate his ambition. Misguided and ill-planned as it is. As much as he hates to admit, your nephew requires my help, and by extension the 'Freedom Fighter's help, to achieve his goals: your overthrow and disposal," I smiled.
He frowned. "And what would my Nephew's desire be in allying with the 'Freedom Fighters'? He would sooner grovel, trusting in my benevolent nature rather than those he wronged so. This is a ridiculous story, princess. I'm through listening to them, as amusing as they've been." Robotnik drew his personal firearm, a pistol: a holdover from his days as Minister of War and pointed it between my eyes. "You've been my most interesting appointment in some time, but I'm not sad to see you go."
I chill of fear crept up my spine. "Wait," I cautioned. You haven't heard my offer yet. I will keep your nephew safe with us. He'll be out of your -" I began to say, but then I noted the Dictator's baldness "-sensitive operations."
"So, I'm expected to count on your word. That my conniving, treacherous nephew will live and that you will ensure his safety?" he said incredulously.
I nodded "Yes, it's either that or keep an eye open while you sleep". Timorously, I reached up. Gently brushing my fingers around the muzzle of the Dictator's firearm. Much to my surprise, he obliged, replacing it into his holster with one smooth motion.
"I always do," he sneered while leaning forward to level with me.
"But now with your nephew out the way, you won't need to think about it," I hissed. He was securely in my trap now. A place where he was caught between his fiery temper and begrudging acceptance of his own mortality and fallibility.
"What was your purpose in forging an alliance with him in the first place? Surely, you know how perilous that is? My nephew is conniving, treacherous and diabolical. He would sooner admit to his wrongdoings to me than ally himself with you," the dictator questioned, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.
"I assure you, the intelligence he has provided is a two-way street until recently. Some of which we've applied with devastating impact. Others, I file away for future use," I stared at Robotnik. Would he stop to question our sources? Did he know that between NICOLE's ability to break even the most secure firewalls and Sir Charles's on-site intelligence gathering, we had unearthed a veritable treasure trove of intelligence?
"So, he's outlived his usefulness to you, Naugus," Robotnik concluded, tenting his fingers.
I relaxed as he bought my deception hook line and stinker. "Now, striking a deal with you will prove far more valuable to me that the information he is able to provide," I confirmed.
He considered for a moment, staring at the ground in deep thought "Just what did he offer you, Naugus? I know many ways of making a Mobian squeal. I can squeeze whatever information he provided from you and so much more than that too."
I smiled, "Kintobar, if I'm forced to sacrifice the princess to keep information out of your hands, it's a necessary evil. A massive inconvenience certainly, since I would have to start all over again, working my way up the ranks of the 'Freedom Fighters' and gaining their trust. A process that would set me back weeks in filling the vacated position."
He met my gaze "Then what's to stop you from reneging on your terms then? What's stopping you from desiring more than the Great Forest?"
"The word of a wizard has always been historically more valuable than that of an Overlander, Kintobar. I will give you the same answer I gave to my former employer King Maximillian when I was his court wizard almost a lifetime ago." Taking a moment to compose myself, I continued "I care little for these new-fangled notions of state and governance. Instead, I shall personally rule over my subjects who venerate me as a living god. The only person who can ensure their continued safety."
"So, why don't I martyr you right now?" he asked while levelling his weapon once more at my forehead.
I didn't flinch.
"Firstly, if I were not the princess, I would not have the sway necessary to guarantee your nephew's safety in exile. Secondly, losing this body would be a mere inconvenience. Thirdly, I would pay you another visit knowing my peaceful overtures have failed. And this time, as opposed to seeking amends. I would be seeking revenge," I elaborated, my steely gaze never once leaving his soulless eyes.
"So what price would you name? I assume granting you leave from my domain will prove insufficient, " Robotnik asked. His tone, dare I imagine it was genuinely courteous as though he regarded me as a genuine threat. No, an equal. A cold chill washed down my vertebra.
"My price is high, Kintobar. Much higher than the mere offer of safe passage. Only a generous tribute would do to cement a truce between us and guarantee the safety of your nephew in exile among us."
"You know Naugus, you have quite the unique privilege of wronging me, getting caught and leaving with my gratitude," Robotnik smiled a mad genuine grin. "What do you want?" Somehow, I had him wrapped around my pinkie. I could ask for anything I desired … Bunnie's medicine even.
No, my shoulders unconsciously slumped. I had managed to paint myself into a corner. If I truly were the enigmatic court mage I would surely have the power to heal my subjects. If I had asked for medicine my lie would be laid bare. There was only one thing I could ask for. The only thing Sally's … my conscience would allow. Through this venture, I had discovered my true allegiance.
Just how many allies could I free? How many would make the unpredictable Dictator shoot me in frustration and what figure would make him wish I didn't ask for more? I settled at a particular number that Sally kept close to her heart. "Thirteen," I said forcefully, the number lost on raids plus one. "You will free thirteen Mobians and your machines will depart from the Great Forest."
"You will walk with eight. Or not walk at all," he declared looking me straight into the eye, willing me to back-down. I glared back. I had gotten this far. Nothing would stop me now.
"I'm not leaving till I see my thirteen Kintobar. Do not test my patience."
"Done. Thirteen is nothing to me Naugus, and if I hear of any more sabotage, or any more guerrilla attacks on my operations. Anyone of the hairs on my nephew's head harmed. I'll come for you."
"I assure you, Kintobar. You can rest easy. Neither your nephew nor the 'Freedom Fighters' will ever threaten you again. "However," I took a deep breath. "The 'Freedom Fighters' have secured a wealth of information through him." I added. "That is safely kept hidden among my personal effects and a number of small caches to which I alone am aware of. I consider this deal to be our first, and last. I promise you that henceforth I will never again disrupt your operations." I stared him in the eye "But if you decide to pursue me, to tear open every cavern, every tunnel in search of our underground home I will use Snively's plans. All of them and every iota of my arcane might to smite you."
My deception held. I smelt fear. Just a hint of it. I felt so very smug as I put my hands up in a non-threatening fashion, as far as my chains would allow "But I assure you: so long as you remain outside of our affairs. You have no reason to fear me or for the life of your nephew."
Robotnik smiled. A cruel mockery of a grin that stretched from one corner of his lip to the other. "Enjoy your dreams of ruling your little corner of Mobius, Naugus. A word of advice old friend. You may find some dreams are meant to be ... broken. I'll devise a means to protect myself from your 'magic' and when I do? I'll come for you."
"Good. I'll get ready. Till then, unchain me so I can get on with my business," I demanded. Robotnik obliged, reaching behind the chair and snapping the chains apart with his roboticized appendage. For a moment, I imagined the harsh grating noise to be flesh, blood and sinew tearing.
The chains clatter to the floor.
I neither waited around nor looked back. Instead, I stride confidently away past row after row of SWATbots who regarded my presence, but did not impede my progress, leaving the dictator without any opportunities to change his mind. Out of the dictator's sight, a sight of my own gave me pause: a SWATbot holding the Mobile Roboticizer. It wouldn't be as good as the real deal, but getting that back home would mean a chance set our people free. I'm on a roll, so why stop now. I turn to face the SWATbot who stood still, stiff as a statue; its hands maintaining a stiff grip on the handheld device. Mentally preparing myself for retaliation, I coiled up my thigh muscles and lightly bumped the bottom of its hand, snatching the device from the air.
Just like Julayla and the acorn.
Never did I think I would be glad to have the unspeakable thing ensconced within my hands. The very thing that ought to make me sick to the very bottom of my stomach. From the very bottom of my heart, I loathed it for what it's larger counterpart had done to countless innocent Mobians, but this evil abomination may yet be turned to good.
The robot stares, but makes no attempt to retrieve the device from me. Compelled by Robotnik's instructions to treat me as an honoured guest.
You tested me and gave me guidance for the last time, and I was alone, so very alone, but the signet ring you gave me, handed down by Mom, told me I had the strength to go on. Thanks, Julayla.
I went through Command Central, retrieving my fallen weapon where it lay and gazed at my newly freed allies and my new hostage dragged over by SWATbots. In spite of the earlier mistreatment, they are formidable warriors. They view me with equal parts suspicion, amazement, confusion and apprehension.
Though the majority of them are older adults, I'm glad. They have plenty of combat experience, making a difference in the fights ahead. I ought to feel victorious. I ought to feel invincible having defeated the dictator with little more than my glib tongue. Sonic would be proud. Yet, my victory feels so very hollow. All I can imagine is telling everyone I had failed.
It was difficult keeping them quiet in spite of their desire to celebrate and to find out what lies ahead. For my part, I inform them that Knothole would be everything they thought it to be. Home, a place to rest and recuperate. I couldn't give away too much. Had to maintain character before the surveillance orbs that constantly monitored my every word.
Snively, however, is not so fortunate. He sits beside me. A nasty welt rises over his left eye by a failed escape attempt from a SWATbot. At times, the diminutive Overlander attempts to pry answers from me. Him I have no patience for. He would only get either monosyllabic answers or a stony stare where his questions warranted a longer answer.
Introductions complete, we set-off for home...