Chapter 10: I'm kicking my ass, do you mind!?

Posthumous characters (characters dead at the start of a series), often make for the greatest pieces of speculative fiction. One of the most hearwarming other things I really like to see in fiction, and media of any kind is the dead coming back to life Yes, it is cheesy. Yes, it is corny. Yes, sometimes it can be hard to justify.

But some characters are just to amazing, and not bringing them back would just put the story at a massive disadvantage. Also, I don't believe in plot twists. If a plot point is really good, you can work it into the story at any time and not make it a twist.

The reason I link the Sonic universe with some of the other universes, is that they are all dubbed by 4kids and share many similar themes. It is also very cool to see how these characters would interact with each other in the same setting.

Once again, special thanks to Momijifan Low-Ki. You are amazing.

Chris POV

"Now go forth hero. Or should I say, Speed Jr. Go forth hero and keep your head held high." Uncle Sam proudly says, upon hearing from Frances that Helen really does not have much time left and that only the evil Eggman can cure her. He makes no attempt to carouse me from my suicidal mission.

"Thanks Uncle Sam. I won't let you or Helen down." I happily reply, feeling like I'm at the top of the world. For once in my life, I do not shun my high social status. Only my status, let me have a drivers license at a premature age. Only my luxuries, give me a good outline of what a better Earth without Eggman or G.U.N might look like.

Soon I will fully value the many gifts life has granted me, in spite of all the times life also smacked me down. Soon I will be playing basketball with the president, dunking on his delegates and then I'll compliment him on his political etiquette. Not that his incompetent rule gives me much to really praise him for, but why ruin a perfectly blisful ignorant's self delusions that are the only thing giving him his purpose to wake up every morning.

Especially since after that, I'll toss a couple million dollars in the air just for the heck of it, but keep the fives, twenties and other bits completely separate. Not a single tummy around me, will know what hungry is. Eating good, sleeping soundly.

So I say now as I wave my amazing uncle goodbye with a wink and a playful wag of my finger, I know all of us have a similar dream: of inheriting my highborn place as a landed gentry and heir to a vast fortune with no end. The one thing I can tell the many unfortunate beggars, lay-offs and other unemployed unfortunates on the street right now: is to go into their pocket and pull out their wallet and put it in the air.

To all of Liberty City's less privileged and fortunate citizens, know that help is on the way. Now I understand that wealth really is just like dirt. No good to anyone until it's given away.

Helen or rather Maria speaking from Helen's lips, pleaded for us to make one final stop on the way to Eggman's base. A mini-mall. I was thoroughly puzzled, but Frances gently asked me to ask no questions and just do it. Somehow after spending the previous few minutes in a state of deep slumber, she had recovered enough strength to speak with only a few quiet coughs in between her words.

"Please wheel me in, Frances. Chris. You wait in the car, and keep the engine running." Maria said. "Oh and Chris. Thank you greatly. You are a good man. I say this on behalf of both myself, and Helen. Do not worry. Once we get the two chaos emeralds from my cousin, I will leave Helen's body and she will be completely free of me. I will be a dreadful burden no longer. I sincerely promise."

I nodded with a blush, having no choice but to cover up my bleeding nose once again. It was a while since anyone complimented me so gratefully. Even Sonic had been snubbing me with greater frequency in the previous days.

I waited impatiently trembling in agonizing agitation for the next fifteen minutes, judging by the police car 's time display. But it felt more like fifteen centuries. Hearing the pain in Helen's earlier choking fits and witnessing her sudden blackout, made me perfectly aware that neither she nor Maria had much time left. Every second was precious now. Yet she was choosing to waste valuable minutes browsing a consumerism trap designed only to part a fool and his money.

I was looking skywards at the Heavens in tearful, silent contrition asking for forgiveness for all my Earthly sins when Frances wheeled Helen back in a far-changed set of clothing. I never thought my gift for my two best friends would be useful to them so quickly.

Helen had swapped out her pink and white dress, for a cyan skirt and a navy jacket with a zip. Her pink trainers, had been replaced with far more formal sky-blue blue school shoes. One could say that she had more blue in her appearance at that moment, than the blue blur of speed himself. It was queer and a little unsettling, but nevertheless very sweet and fitting.

"These are the closest set of clothes I could find to the ones, I wore when I was still alive on the ARK space colony with Shadow and my grandfather Gerald. Unless I dress in this fashion, my cousin Ivo will not recognize me and our reunion will be imperfect."

"Um sorry. But if you don't mind me asking. Who is Shadow?" I nervously inquired, knowing from the way Maria stressed the name that it held great importance to her.

Maria lit up with pride. "Another Sonic in terms of unmatchable speed. Another Tails in intellect and sharp wits. Another Amy in terms of loving tenderness. Another Cream in how pure and innocent his white heart was, even in his darkest hour when everyone he trusted, betrayed him"

I could sense from the echoes in the way her words were spoken, that Maria was drawing upon Helen's memories of Sonic and his friends to make this statement. This was amazing. Not only could Helen speak as herself, or Maria. But also as herself and Maria at the same time.

"He was a hero. Who was cheated by fate. A saint, slandered by untrustworthy liars. He was like a father, brother and lover to me all at once. I sent him in an escape pod down here to Earth, but I've seen no sign of him since." Maria wept, as I continued driving, her sadness keeping her from falling back into sleep and draining even more of what little energy remained in Helen's rapidly decaying body.

"Tell us what he looks like. Then maybe we can help you track him down." Frances suggests as we continue the drive onward, knowing to keep a more reasonable speed from now on, lest uncle Sam not be around to save our butts from the next highway patrol.

"He looks a lot like Sonic in the sense he's another hedgehog. He's black like a Shadow, hence his name. And he has red tips at the end of his quills. Oh, and he really likes to watch Anime and read Manga." Maria wistfully replied, her momentary gladness letting her fight off another coughing fit, but just barely. How much blood had Helen lost by now? How much of the red liquid of life could one throat contain? Biology was never my strong suit at school, so I didn't know and didn't particularly care to find out now.

Helen and Maria would live today. Even if me and Frances died, they would live to see the next beautiful sunrise together. They deserved it, both of them. If they did live, we still had to track down Shadow. Even if I had to search every haystack, climb every mountain and swim every ocean, Shadow would be reunited with his beloved once more. He would be treated with the same dignity I bestowed upon Sonic, Tails, Amy and Cream.

We arrived at what I liked to call Mont Saint McEggman about 20 minutes later. By some divine miracle, Helen and by extension Maria seemed to be looking just the slightest bit healthier. "It will be good to see my Cousin Ivo again. Even if his monstrous actions are unforgivable, I have missed him so." she joyfully announced.

"Yes. Maria. The pleasure is all mine and Frances'. Our loyal, dependable, trustworthy, benevolent and remarkably handsome doctor companion truly is a paragon of virtue to be envied." I replied, as loudly and enthusiastically as I possibly could so that Eggman might hear my wholly insincere compliments from deep within his stronghold, and drop his guard like he dropped me from the sky the last time I was dumb enough to trust him with the valuable chaos emerald that Sonic entrusted to me.

Well I was no fool. Not this time. Not when I had the two (three if counting Maria as her own person rather than just a part of Helen, which I of course did in the interest of complete fairness) most reliable teammates I could ask for, by my side.

I turned back to Frances with a stone cold expression that would make Jack the Ripper seem like a gentle lamb in comparison.

"Make sure your gun is loaded." I instructed her, to which she immediately followed through, with a devious look that made the most deranged serial killers in Uncle Sam's maximum security prison seem wholly sane.

Maria looked sadly at us through Helen's eyes, but did not argue. Unlike many pacifists, Maria was not suicidally stupid or blind to the crimes of the unrepentant. This put her in a heirachy of humanitarians far above the masses. Perhaps the minute number of human beings that could rival Maria in either intelligence or kindness, let alone both, could be counted using the fingers on one hand.

While I did not intend to demean or insult any of my faithful servants, loving family members or friends for their wholehearted attempts to please me, I could only put 5 living beings into this group, that would belong in a floating paradise high up in the beautiful sky. One of them was not even human. This was how exclusive this secret group was.

Obviously Helen belonged in this secret, sacred society as the founder of its ideals. It's shining star. Which made Maria naturally it's co-founder and co-star, elected by none other than hers truly and the star of this wonderful show. Frances was the third. The loyal bodyguard of truth, whose allegiance was above reproach.

Fourth was Garcia dos or in English: Garcia two. The nice news lady who comforted me when my own mother wouldn't, and let me call her Scarlet instead of Mrs Garcia. A reassuring reminder that age did not always rob away people's kindness and capacity for loving empathy, and that my country was not completely screwed yet.

It was the most ironic choice, since I put Frances's mother over my guilt was astronomical, and would follow me to my grave and beyond. If a blissful afterlife was real, I did not deserve it. I was a royal insult to the good Thorndyke name. I was an irredeemable sinner and always would be.

Number 5 was not Sonic. It should have been Sonic, but it wasn't. He was never even close to a nominee or potential candidate. In fact, my choice for number 5 made me a little enraged with myself for my completely unintentional sexism. My one slight consolation was that unlike many male sexists who had no regard for the value of equality, I was biased toward my opposing gender rather than my own gender.

Number 5 fed me tasty delicious cakes, scones, waffers and sandwiches. Number 5 gave me all the quality listening time I needed. Number 5 was my final anchor of sanity when my unhealthy addiction to Sonic nearly pushed me down the slippery slope of no return. Only thanks to the valiant efforts of 5, did I manage not to drop my friends at school the way Eggman dropped me and Knuckles after we put our trust in him.

As a bonus, number 5's delightfully charming personality could be summed up in exactly five words. No more and no less would do justice to her. Only five words, and those five exact words could suffice.

Those five words were: Sweet, sweet. You're so sweet.

I could jam a handful of expensive sweets into my mouth, and not reach her level of sweetness. I could swallow refined sugar until I died of a sugar-rush, and it wouldn't come close to the euphoric sensation that one second with 5 granted me.

As if 5 wasn't spectacular enough, she even took personal time to come and get to know my friends at school better. And enjoyed it. She planted flowers with Helen, practiced acrobatics with Frances, drew pretty pictures with Danny and loved trips to the mall with all of them. She even carried the shopping bags herself, so they wouldn't have to. How kind.

The final accolade in 5's already impressive list of achievments, is her reaction to the cat food I tried to give Sonic. Sonic declared to me "no way", and spilled it all over my just-mopped floor that Ella and Mr Tanaka spent all morning on. "*Burp* Yum. My sincere compliments to the chef. Reminds me of the time I visited my old pal Blaze." was 5's far more grateful reply.

It is easy to guess 5. Too easy I would say. I'll give you five guesses, and the first four don't count. If you've no clue yet as to the identity of this mysterious 5 despite all I've told you, then let me clue you in.

Eggman often threatens Sonic and his animal friends, with unthinkable danger. The danger of his robot army empire. The danger of a hideous abomination conjured up by irresponsible use of the Chaos emeralds. The danger of Bokkun the bomb messenger telling bad jokes until everyone keels over from boredom. But 5 is not in danger.

Because 5, is...

THE DANGER!

A guy opens his door and get's shot and you can think that of me. You can think that of Sonic. You can think that of the amazingly kind Mr Tanaka and Ella. You can even think that of Sonic and his entire team as much as it hurts me to say it, bar 5.

Because 5 is the one who knocks. But not with her hands. Let us simply say that if for whatever reason you try to keep the door shut from one as well-meaning, demure and altruistic as 5, your door will not last long and neither will you. A single knock from 5 as she utilizes the ultimate tool from the hardware store in hammering nails as well as breaking and entering, means the end of both your wooden door and you.

Thor the Thunderer from Norse mythology had a massive warhammer called Mjolnir, which he used to squash the Midgard Serpent and save Medieval Earth. 5 replicated this legend, when she summoned her Piko-Piko hammer and smashed Serpenter: Eggman's strongest creation up to that point, to save the Emerald resort from being turned into Eggman's scream park.

If Sonic is a hero, then 5 is a legend. If Tails is a genius, then 5 is an Oracle and Farseer who can see far into the future.

Knuckles is the unmatched champion of strength and fury

5 is the unmatched champion of strength and fury, with a hammer. Or really, unlimited hammers.

Eggman cowers at Sonic's approach.

He wets himself and dashes away yelling for his mama like a scared little kid, when he hears that 5 is within a 100 mile radius of his kingdom.

Eggman orders his robots to hunt and kill Sonic. He begs the US Senate daily to give 5 a restraining order from coming within 1000 paces of him and his robots. He offers Sonic a salvo of deadly missiles. He tries to bribe 5 with all the gold and jewels in his treasury.

As an aside, 5 is the one non-human who forces my nose to bleed in the same way Helen, Frances and reporter Scarlet do. My one regret is that Sonic's nose stays dry around her.

Try to guess 5. Just know that it isn't me. The society that I canonized and officiated, does not include me as a member. The pure brethren has no use for filthy carrion such as myself.

Eggman POV

Once a day every year, I choose a special day where I try to curse less than on other days. Not only do I try to avoid any vulgar language with every fibre of my being, but I also force myself to remember to say the evening prayer. For all the good it does me, and for all the good it could do my arch-enemy and rival for life, Sonic, since I make sure to enact these sacred proceedings behind closed doors where no one can see me,except my three no good robot minions, who haven't a human heart and hence can't judge me.

On this one day, I begrudgingly give each of my dumb bucket of bolts, one day off. Do not confuse this for me going soft on my mechanical creations who have no feelings for me to remotely care about. I do this solely as a matter of necessity, to prevent their circuits from frying out from overuse.

During this one single day, I hole myself up at the very back room of my vast and massive base where no one can see me. Except for the lifeless, soulless, heartless image of my late cousin Maria, as her photograph smiles mockingly at me from a table in an alcove. It's not Maria that insults me, but the fact that the picture is only a picture and not reality. Like a sentimental fool, I have laid a small pot of foxgloves beside the picture.

The nasty image of a yellow fox club wearing thick work gloves whistling a cheerful tune as he turns a cog on a certain jet with an oversized wrench, flashes before me and I have to blink it away. The crazy, stupid things the pathetic human on this insignificant planet will do for love. Yet I can't help but copy them. It figures. No matter how much hatred I may try to project into the outside world, I can never get past this part of the annual memorial supper in Maria's honour, without tearing up.

"Oh Maria why did you have to go? Why Maria? Why? Why?"

As I continue to repeatedly question the unfairness of fortune and luck, even in matters not related to destroying the dastardly blue hedgehog who ruins every single one of my plans, I begin to hit my head on a nearby section of wall.

The pain dulls my mind. It tingles at my senses and helps me let it all go. So long as I can fill myself with enough hurt and discomfort, the bad memory will go away. Maria isn't here anymore. She's dead. She can't hurt me.

Yet the only positive memories I have of being treated well by someone other than my robotic legion, all involve the blonde beauty in the blue sweater and skirt. None of my other relatives cared a whit for my many accomplishments. My drunk father Zack, beat me with the metal end of a garden hose when he wasn't at the bar. My flirty, promiscuous and fickle socliate mother Nancy, abandoned me before my first year, when I had not yet learned to walk, or speak my first word.

Great uncle Gerald didn't give a crap about my welfare, and deemed me far inferior to himself with how my best attempts to emulate his scientific genius came nowhere close to his standards. Thinking that my father's bad habits most likely passed onto me, he kept me at arm's length from my cousin at every opportunity he could.

"Grr." I growled savagely, as the ecstatic ecstasy that banging my head against the wall begun to wear away. It wasn't enough. It was never enough. If I didn't do something to harden my heart again soon, I would get soft and give my arch-enemy Sonic mercy that he didn't deserve. That couldn't happen. I had to do something, anything to rekindle my vengful spark of unbridled rage at the world around me if I was going to reign over it as its supreme overlord.

I balled my left hand into a trembling fist, as the photo of the long-dead Maria silently taunted me once again. I raised this mace of flesh and bones to where it was parallel to my furiously sweating forehead that had turned crimson.

I gawked at the rapidly approaching fist wondering why it was getting bigger and bigger. Then it hit me.

"Owie!" I cried, more cheerful than hurt. Short of having Sonic to vex me and direct my fury at, this was the next best thing. During every batle, Sonic would get several hits at me anyway so this perfectly recaptured the experience of having my sorry ass handed to me.

I repeated the same masochistic self-directed flagellation, this time with far more force.

"Owie." I moaned, far more acceptingly and peacefully this time despite the fact that my vision was starting to blur, and the objects around the room started to swim round in circles. The acute symptoms of severe head trauma that were fatal, if not medically attended to immediately.

But this felt so right. It couldn't be wrong. What could any doctor, nurse or bragging scientist trying to steal my thunder from me possibly do for me now? Sessions with a therapist had done nothing to erase Maria from my mind. Painkiller prescription medicine similarly failed to give me even a smidgen of relief from my bereavement

My dazed eyes fell upon a bottle of mustard on the dining table which I had set next to a roast turkey dinner of basted turkey crown, roast potatoes, parsnips, sprouts and pigs in blankets. The one meal Maria cooked for me during the one chance she got to cook for me.

Decoe, Bocoe and Bokkun had tried countless times to perfect the recipe for these annual occasion, but they failed miserably every time. They were not Maria. They were not even human. They were not even alive and hence, worth nothing to me.

I squirted a handful of the yellow sauce onto my right palm, rubbed it out so that it coated both my hands down to my fingers. Then I poked my two index fingers into my two eyes, yowling in pain as the spicy condiment did its work of burning my already failing vision slits.

It was at this point that the black hedgehog that my grandfather designated as "the ultimate life form" pokes his head from the one doorway into the room, having been drawn here by my yowls of self-induced agony.

He looks at me with a look of pure confusion. Then he swears. When Shadow swears, it is either because he really hates you or really fears you. I'm not certain which it is in this instance. But swear he did.

"What the hell are you doing!?" demanded Shadow.

I grinned maniacally at Shadow. "I'm kicking my ass. Do you mind!?" I replied, lifting both my middle fingers at him. It was at this point that before my almost dysfunctional eyes full of mustard, that a near-transparent image of my late cousin in her signature outfit of blue, materializes into being.

She cocks her head to one side, and eyes me with utter disgust. Unable to bear the horrid appirition any longer, I squirt the entire carton of mustard into both my eyes making them go bloodshot crimson. I want to blind myself to everything. Especially her, or rather: her ghost.

Unable to tolerate my buffoonery any longer, or perhaps simply at a loss of what to really make of my idiocy, Shadow inhales disdainfully before moving away. A good thing. I don't want him knowing what is causing my misery. He would gladly use it against me in any way he could. Especially since he, was Maria's favorite. He was played with by Maria. I was not.

Then I grab hold of the plate of roasted turkey dinner, and dump its contents onto my clothes. The beef gravy has a very soggy effect, causing me mighty discomfort. I'm not in the mood for any food right now.

Maria watches this, and claps happily as she nods approvingly. I'm doing well. I'm doing very well. I need to do this. I need to keep going.

Next I raise my right palm, and mimicking the disciplinary motion of my neglectful father: I slap myself hard in my right temple. I slap hard. Harder. So hard that it turns my cheek as red as my eyes, and Maria whoops in triumph as she raises both arms up in delight.

Yes Maria. Stay. Let me keep you here with me a little longer. Whatever it takes.

Having wrecked most of the room with my temper tantrum, I eye the final component of the chamber left undamaged. Maria's memorial shrine with those bothersome Foxglove flowers that I can't stomach. With a final cry of unbridled happiness, I jumped backwards so that I smashed right into the sharp edge of the table, knocking both the bothersome plants and Maria's breathtaking photo to the floor.

The vase for the Foxgloves shatters a split second before Maria's glass picture.

Then I pass out from all the physical pain I've endured. Maria looks down at my sorry state, and grins ear to ear before turning her back on me and disappearing into thin air as she came.

...

I wake up to the sight of Bocoe and Bokkun staring at me through their anxious digital eyes, as Decoe hauls me into the main control room.

"I found him like this in his private chambers, Bocoe. Someone beat the hell out of him." He explains as the other robots quickly turn worried at the idea of a hidden intruder in the highly secret base meant to be secured against all attacks. Especially with the infallible Shadow temporarily swayed to our cause, and patrolling the joint now that I've not found any particular use for him yet.

"Who did this?" Bocoe asks, neither malice nor sarcasm in his robotic voice for once in his life. Only concern for a genuine friend that he deeply cares for, and wishes to assist out of earnest goodness.

"A MADMAN! BOCOE! A DESPERATE FOOL AT THE END OF HIS PITIFUL ROPE!?" I screeched at the top of my lungs, still furious that Maria had decided to leave again after all. " I didn't care that it was a pain-induced illusion. I just wanted her back.

"What did he look like?" The one question I hoped my third least useless robotic creation wouldn't ask, and he asked it without intending to. For once, I couldn't even blame his dim wits. This really was one of his few bright moments of complete lucidity.

"Well. Er. Big teeth. Tall. Fat. Kind of gangly. Magnificent moustache. IQ 200+, and a master inventor." I answered, hoping that a quick reply would just shut him up already.

"B, but doctor. You don't mean to say that you did this to yourself? Please do not tell me that is what you are really implying." Decoe nervously stammered. Normally, his high intelligence made him one of the least insufferable robots to be around. But today, it just ground my gears.

"Yes. Decoe. Yes. You got me. Guilty as charged. Now. Leave me alone. All of you. Let me wallow in my sorrows, alone." I masked my fury with a saintly expression, and took quiet breaths to pacify myself as I spoke. I did not need their pity. Supervillians, were not pitiable. If they took pity, it meant they feared me no longer. I could not have that, when my goal was to enslave mankind and turn them all into robot slaves.

Bokkun stepped forward, hands crossed. There was nothing in his face, but deadly seriousness. It scared me more than Sonic in his super form, or Shadow on a killer rampage involving chaos control.

"No." The small, black robot with pointed ears quietly but sternly intoned.

"What did you say?" I demanded, softly but dangerously. "You do know that I can have you scrapped for parts at a moment's notice. So you'd do well not to disappoint me, if you know what's good for you."

"I said, no. You gave me life, and I cannot just let you throw away your own life just like that. Not when we don't even know the reason why you'd just beat yourself up so seriously."

"Shut your filthy mouth before I do it myself." I ordered once again.

"If I die. I die. But I will not leave you. Life is a sacred gift, and you don't just get to toss it like a tin can into the trash." His voice was clear and unbreaking. He had not stirred one inch, but stood unflappable. He cracked no jokes. He sported no mischief in either his stance, or voice.

It was at this point that I remembered. I had made a critical blunder with Bokkun the bomber robot's programming. I intended for him to be the most merciless, destructive force in my army that would rain explosive mayhem upon everything and everyone who dared oppose me. To achieve this: I set his sympathy level to negative 1, thinking it would make him even more aggresive than at level 0.

But this was not how numbers worked in programming whatsoever. Setting it to -1, instead caused a buffer overflow since there were no negative numbers possible in 8 bit computers used in my robots. Only positive numbers or zeroes were allowed. So Bokkun's sympathy level instead wrapped around to hit the absolute pinnacle of the largest number that could be stored in his system, this being 255, which was 2 to the power of 8 minus 1.

This was why his bombs were NOT harmful. I wanted a wreck-it-Ralph, and instead got a fix-it-Felix. This same sympathy unfortunately was why I did not have the heart to simply dismantle him.

This failure was why in my other robots, I had no choice but to program a sympathy level of at least 2. Since to switch from peaceful mode to battle mode, the sympathy level had to be able to drop by at least 1 stage without overflowing. But at sympathy level 0, my robots would turn on each other and waste the precious materials I used to make them.

This most glaring weakness in all my robots. That they all needed at least sympathy/kindness/frinedliness level 2, and that this only dropped to level 1 during combat and when I gave them orders. It was why that blasted Gamma let the accursed Amy Rose go free from her cage, along with that annoying little birdie.

I needed some way to occupy myself. "Lead me down to the underground garden." I sharply order the trio of robots surrounding me.

"Yes doctor" they reply in unison as they accompany me down a corridor, down one floor in an elevator, and into a vast space where hundred of different specimens of fauna sit neatly in rows arranged immacutely in perfect alphabetical order. In the centre of the vast field, a carefully crafted marble statue of Maria stands sullenly facing a place that would have been like heaven to her in her living days. Believe it or not, I had my robot legion redo the monument eight times before I was satisfied.

The garden is tended by my first ever sentient robot, that I developed during my earliest days when I did not yet hate the world around me for undermining my talents as an inventor. About the same size as Bocoe and the same tone of grey, yet slightly more bulky in appearance and with only a circular hole in its expressionless face. Unable to speak a single word, since I had not advanced so far in mechanics as I had now.

I called it: Oxygen. It's most noteworthy feat, was pumping enough of the life-saving elemental gas of the same name during a playdate with young Maria as a toddler. Her NIDS disease was not serious enough to warrant being kept up in ARK, but all that changed one day when she got short of breath during one of our walks into the countryside. Maria's favorite place, where all the nice flowers grew.

The ambulance would take far too long. But Oxygen saved her. Oxygen the robot I mean, and the element too, but that was beside the point. Gerald was not grateful in the slightest when he saw my big, fearsome robot hunched over his delicate little grandchild. Especially since I ran out of proper hand appendages to assign to Oxygen, and had to give him (techically "it" since it was a robot) two spiked balls for hands instead.

"Murderer." He accused me. "You lured my little girl Maria out here, so you could kill her with your dangerous robot. Get out of my sight, you are my family no longer."

I don't want to go into detail about what happened next. Let us simply conclude that lack of oxygen tends to affect a person's brain very poorly, especially when that person is still young and the nervous system has not fully developed. Let us also note that the brain is where a person's memories are kept, and that damaging the brain is akin to burning books in a library.

It's a lie that Maria was born on ARK. She was an Earthling, just like me. How else could she look so forward to going to a planet she's seemingly never been to, and hence can know next to nothing about? Even when I read pamphlets advertising luxury resorts that I've not seen first hand, I never got a fraction as excited as when Maria talked eagerly about her eventual trip to Earth that would happen as soon as she got better.

Now you may ask, wasn't I little too young to be tinkering around with mechanical thingiemajigs that most mature adults would find baffling? Yes. Yes I was. But Tails at age 4 could already make extensive upgrades to that bothesome plane of his and Sonic's, that keeps getting in my way. I have to admit that in that sense, I do find him something of a worthy opponent.

My respect for him nearly matches my loathing. The keyword being "nearly".

Oxygen was my first proper sentient robot.

My second was Uranium.

Then came Radium, Mercury and Carbon.

A cursory look at the key difference between Oxygen in contrast to the others, and you will clearly see the reasoning behind why it was the only "good" robot.

The difference is especially glaring when comparing Oxygen to Uranium, or Oxygen to Carbon.

If you still don't understand, try inhaling a breath of Oxygen and then one of any of the other elements I just mentioned. Particularly Carbon. Maybe when you choke out in painful agony, you will finally comprehend.

...

Thank you for reading. Please review if you like this story and want me to continue. Special thanks to Momijifan Low-Ki. There have been lots of stories where the first thing Eggman does when he gets Maria back, is to enslave her or mistreat her like he mistreats Sonic. And then a lot of other stories where the first thing Maria does when she sees her long lost cousin, is to disown him like he's nothing. Even if Eggman's crimes are undeniably bad, Maria has already lost one beloved relative who did some morally questionable things. I don't think she wants to just lose another one.