Chapter IV:

The Challenge Issued

What a great day today was! It was one of those days that were made for living life to the fullest! At least, that was the basic philosophy of Sonic the Hedgehog as he dashed through the Southwestern Canyons.

Open places like the canyons were some of Sonic's favorite geographic locations. They provided everything he could want, level terrain, plenty of places to jump to and fro, and an old favorite: Loop-de-loops! Sonic whooshed along a rock formation that offered the perfect shape for said thrilling maneuver. Unbeknownst to Sonic, however, someone was watching…

Tails was ecstatic when he looked over the nose of the Tornado II and saw Sonic running along the desert floor. Getting Knuckles' attention in the passenger seat, Tails shouted, "Hey look! It's Sonic!"

Executing a textbook barrel roll, Tails decreased altitude and flew down to match Sonic's speed… a difficult feet even with a jet engine.

Sonic looked up and noticed his kitsune pal, "Yo Tails! Long time no see!"

Preferring to share his pressing business, Tails quickly whipped out a piece of paper and leaned over to his long time friend and mentor shouting over the engine, "Sonic! Check this out!"

Sonic spied the small sheet of paper as soon as Tails was over the edge of the left wing. Sonic could tell it was a letter. As soon as Tails was barely out of the cockpit, Sonic jumped up, snatched the message, and, to keep the paper from being damaged, turned his back into the wind. It only took a split second for Sonic to spot the huge logo in the top left corner: the overtly "happy" emblem of the Eggman Empire. Before Sonic could get a chance to read the letter to himself, the letter began reading itself to him!

In a fantastical display of hi-tech, fiber-optic paper, an electronic display of Eggman moved in the background of the letter, reading its contents aloud:

"Mu ha ha ha! Guess what Sonic Heroes…" the paper Eggman snidely greeted its flesh and blood enemy, "I've finally developed the ultimate weapon! In three days I'll conquer the world! Think you can stop me! Ha ha ha!"

Sonic was touched… sort of. Eggman had given such attention to detail, and taken great care to construct the device, so as to craft a fancy, state-of-the-art, letter – even going so far as to sign it in his own handwriting – just for him! Why, this meant only one thing to Sonic.

"Sounds like an invitation to party!" quipped the hedgehog as he faced forward again, letting the ingenious paper, now mere litter, fly off into the wind.

For once, Tails couldn't mimic his hero-partner's bravado. With more than a hint of concern in his voice Tails spoke up, "What are we gonna do Sonic?"

Knuckles couldn't believe such talk from Tails. The kid had already defeated Eggman, all by himself… twice! Well, if he was still a bit skittish, why not have a little fun out of him?

Knuckles snorted and made his opinions obvious, "No worries, we've got this one!" Knuckles wasn't one to be out done by Sonic, especially in the inflated ego department.

Hearing that, Sonic laughed, announcing his intentions of an immediate R.S.V.P, "Think I'd miss this? Let's crack that Eggman wide open! Yeah! Let's party!"

All said and done, the trio rocketed into the horizon while the Tornado's auto-pilot steered the double-decker plane back home.

Shuffling through air vents was the least favorite aspect of her job. But, once she set her eyes on the prize, there was little to stop her from accomplishing her ravenous designs.

Following some information, passed on to her by some of her more reputable informants, she'd finally tracked down Eggman's hidden base. It was here that the mad scientist had stashed away a treasure trove of valued gems, precious metals, and priceless artworks. The wealth of the items pilfered was well beyond any "printed lies." Yes, the "green stuff" printed in mints across the globe might as well be brown to Rouge the Bat.

The freelance spy and mercenary artfully lept out of the open duct into the elevator shaft, extended her wings, and gently floated down to the bottom floor: all too easy. True a challenge would have been exciting, but nothing made Rouge happier than to have the baubles of the world on a silver platter. Security was lax, the base small and almost undetectable, a silver platter, indeed.

Having already cracked the code for security, Rouge had, easily, glided throughout the compound. The security clearance she had taken from the central mainframe was universal and opened every door she came to. Even the large blast doors in front of her were willing to part themselves for her slight touch. Wrapped up in her grandiose self-indulgence, Rouge smirked at the power her slender fingers could exude.

"This must be it," Rouge exclaimed to her own, exceptionally receptive, ears, "I've found Eggman's secret treasure!"

Seeing that mounds of gold and gemstones weren't stacked to the ceiling, Rouge, for a moment, entertained the idea that this could be a trap. So what if it was? A round of exercise would only improve her strength and enhance her physique. Best of all, it'd make "that old egghead" sizzle.

Calmly sauntering into the spacious laboratory, Rouge took immediate notice of the complex's central feature: a large egg-shaped capsule. The glow from the Plexiglas canopy sparked the bat's interest. Few things shine like that. Perhaps…

Rouge noticed the console at the base of the capsule. The dimmed lights in the room, and the overshadowed buttons on the console hinted that the security lights were all that were on inside the chamber. If she were going to get anywhere, she'd have to activate everything that she could lay her fingers to. Everything.

Despite her nonchalant appearance and voluptuous exterior, Rouge craftily concealed an exceptional intelligence. Artfully, her fingers danced about the console, powering up the main lights and activating other controls in the chamber. Judging by her intuitive skills, one would think that she'd assembled the equipment here, not Dr. Eggman.

However, there was one misnomer to Rouge's activities.

Though the clever thief was aware of the proper procedures for activations and boot-ups, she didn't know everything about the sequences she was initiating.

In a far corner of the room, out of Rouge's periphery, a pair of ominous red lights blinked. The owner of the twin lights shuffled about, proceeding to stand on two legs. It began to walk towards the sole, conscious, occupant of the room. Energy readings were partially blurred by the presence of so many electronic devices. Discerning the purpose of the female bat was even more improbable. The unconscious creature, inside the capsule, was equally puzzling. The primary directives for this kind of scenario dictated a specific recourse.

Rouge was still fiddling with the locks on the capsule. Suddenly, she hit pay dirt. After entering the same password, again, the locks to the capsule proceeded to open and divulge their contents. Rouge's heart began to beat faster as she anticipated the wealth she was about to come into.

Instead, she was flabbergasted to the point of being speechless.

How could he be here? How could he have pulled off such an escape? How did he survive?

There he stood, Shadow the Hedgehog, codenamed "The Ultimate Life Form." The super-powerful hedgehog engineered by the long deceased Prof. Gerald Robotnik. For something, someone, over fifty years old, and supposedly dead, Shadow stood there as youthful, and alive as ever. Or was he?

Could he be?

A low hum, the sound of a targeting computer activating, pierced the air. Shadow's eyes shot open, glancing to his right. Before Rouge could fit all of this into perspective, Shadow pounced on her! It wasn't long until tracer bullets shred the capsule to pieces!

Knocked to the ground, Rouge was still incapable of reaction as Shadow, her dubious savior, jumped back to his feet.

"Stay here," was all his cool voice needed to say. Like lightning, the hedgehog was on the move.

Left behind, Rouge could only react with, "Shadow?"

The hulking robot was casually unloading thousands a rounds a minute from several barrels in his wrist mounted mini-guns. The room was reduced to shards and splinters within mere seconds as the high-velocity, armor piercing rounds were lobbed in various directions. Indeed, this was the definition of "suppressive fire."

Despite this, Shadow was nimbly jumping and dashing across the rapidly changing landscape. It's inconceivable that he was able to dodge each and every bullet. Even more amazing was the, seemingly, endless reserves of munitions the robot was callously expending. Rouge, for one of the brief moments in life, was genuinely shocked by this surreal ballet of destruction and mayhem. It was at this moment of incredulous stupefaction that Rouge overheard the deep voice of the offending robot.

The calm demeanor belied the vengeance the machine expressed through its violent actions. As if reminding itself of its priorities, the walking weapon declared, "Must eradicate all Eggman's robots."

Rouge was brought of her lethargy by this unthinkable, paradoxical, statement. Wasn't Eggman its boss? Rouge barely had enough time to react.

Shadow lept to the offensive and was prepared to take his attacker on, full frontal. The robot was, likewise, prepared to engage in hand-to-hand combat and eradicate this possible Eggman flunky, undoubtedly sent to shut it down permanently. Using all her strength and bravery, Rouge dared to place herself right between the two. This was, undoubtedly, a rare action of direct involvement for the sly bat.

Yelling above the din of battle, sacrificing her lady like tones for tomboyish bellowing, Rouge hoped to stop any blood, or oil, shed with, "Wait! Hold up!"

The adrenaline rush was heightened by a sense of fear. For the first few moments, Rouge's, unassumingly strong, slender arms almost gave way to calculated hydraulic pressure and raw animal strength. But, fortunately, her distraction proved enough. Thanking her good fortune, Rouge was beyond relieved when the two combatants eased off her spare frame.

The immense relief and the dispersal of all her adrenaline in one jolt drained Rouge. She almost fainted.

Despite that, the smell of personal gains was an effective smelling salts.

Very clever. Using the bat to further the plan, that is.

Yes. I would suppose it to be so.

Metal and G.O.G. were tranquilly taking in the events hundreds of miles away.

Blessed be the electron, that teamster of the universe.

It was a pity that Omega's thousand round sprays had damaged various circuits in the walls and security equipment. For all its development, the high definition plasma screen, vast as it was, was a mere silent cinema screen. The mimes went about their business, calmly and collectedly. There was no way for either Metal or G.O.G. to understand what was going on, other than through rough estimations from body language. They were rather foreboding motions at that.

The bat, after gaining control of the situation, sauntered about with completely effeminate airs. The hedgehog preferred little to no actions, or reactions. Only the robot offered the most deliberate, therefore logical, gesticulations. Everything it "said" and did was well thought out, at thousands of kilobytes per second.

The entirely female bat, despondent hedgehog, and brusque robot moved so gracefully. The damages to the room had created sparks and small flames. The silhouettes cast, now and again, by the three characters in the ballet would create disturbing images. Spiky quills, like horns; broad leathery wings that would twitch with thought and consideration; and long powerful claws that would point, in accusative reactions created frightful images. For Metal… it provided nothing. So he continued watching his ballerinas in the inferno.

For a masterful thief, it is surprising it still took two and one half days to find the base and release Project Shadow. She even had someone to reset all the locks to a singular password.

Apparently, the underworld still requires time to circulate rumors. The call to the weasel with the oversized canine didn't guarantee immediate results. It took time for him to spread the information to the right contacts.

Still, it is wise that you preferred to send someone else. If you hadn't, even in a disguised form, E-123 would have attacked you, or the robots you sent in your stead.

I'm well aware of that. The "vengeance" software that the Master programmed into it would have brought his wrath down on our heads. Instead of taking up a grudge against Sonic, as it was meant to, it's going to come after us. It's inconvenient that the very storeroom that we deposited him in was the same one that housed this "Ultimate Life Form." The one I need for the plan.

What of the chao and the amphibian?

You and I both know Chaos has completely vanished from the face of the planet. However, energy residue and mutagens are handy leftovers for bio-scans and genetic comparisons and study. Pity that it will take at least 72 hours to copy every single genome.

Realizing that any other method would take even longer, Metal had already assimilated the frog and chao into his liquid metal body. The process, slow as it was, would be to step by step, without damaging the actual organisms, break apart each and every molecule and, with the G.O.G., analyze every microscopic detail. Even as the singular and the plural discussed their plans, his body, reconstituted by the quicksilver was shifting the very essence of Froggy and Chocola through his frame.

Liquid metal… Living metal… Living Metal Sonic… He ate them.

Fortunately, we safely erased his memories by remote control. However, we must anticipate that that will bring him to us. It is highly probable, that he will come to our bait.

What if the other two follow?

… Let them.

How long was it going to take? Couldn't that mini-machine do its job any faster! His temper was boiling over.

Fortunately, Eggman was the type who put his temper into useful, productive, actions. At least they were useful for him. Nothing to build, nothing to attack, it was driving him over the edge, more so than he already was. What did he resolve to do?

Despite a considerable disdain for the arts, since they were a distraction for his servants and of no practical use to him, Eggman figured on a bit of self-expression. He had no pens, paints, or even paper. But, he had a prodigious imagination and a voice. Singing was his preoccupation of choice.

"Great big gobs of greasy, grimy hedgehog guts," he recited with a jovial tone, "a two tailed fox's ear, Rose colored tiny tears, mutilated echidna meat, chopped up rabbit's feet, French-fried chao paws, and me without a spoon! Bop, bop! Second verse, same as the first, only a little bit worse: Great big gobs of greasy grimy hedgehog guts…"

Eggman was snapped out of his composition by a loud clattering. There wasn't anything happening in his makeshift prison. The noise was a mixture of muffled sounds: thumping and talking; it was coming from the communicator.

Vector the Crocodile, the self-appointed boss of the Chaotix Detective Agency, was at his usual post, his desk. Not that he was an effective pencil pusher, rather it was the only place he could kick up his legs. Worse, the reason he had plenty of time to "kickback" was that the detective agency, that he had talked his long time friends Espio and Charmy into organizing had, as he put it, "hit a dry spell."

Vector was desperate enough to do anything that would advertise their agency, a fact that Espio especially lamented. There were all sorts of doomed ideas that Vector had thought up, and sadly wasted money on. There were mugs, a few scraggly T-Shirts, and even a horrendously doomed infomercial on public access. No one remembered their lines, Charmy could never tell which camera he was supposed to look into, and Espio put up a, more than, half-hearted performance while Vector hammed it up.

The most recent scheme Vector had resolved on required a favor to an old friend of his: Lunar Gilson. The aspiring rock artist had recently moved up the musical food chain and had come into a gig that offered some recordings that could, eventually, be mass-marketed. With a little coaxing from Vector, who held, at best, minimal influence over the would be pop culture icon, Lunar agreed to write and sing a song about the Chaotix. With that accomplished, Vector hoped to attain some local leverage. As usual, though, Espio cast unfailing criticism on the scheme. Vector had none of it.

To spite his dispirited coworker, Vector often sat around the office listening to Team Chaotix, loving every minute. It was during one of these jam sessions that Vector had taken his usual place, while Espio sulked around the storage locker in the corner in an effort to meditate and clear his thoughts. Suddenly, Charmy's version of a polite entry took place.

"It's here. Yeah!"

The energetic bee rocketed through the front doors, his ungainly buzzing having already gotten Espio's attention. Unfortunately for Vector, and to Espio's delight, the bee couldn't stop in mid-air, nor could Vector react, thanks to music blocking his sense of hearing. The result was an obvious and disorienting crash. As Espio rolled his eyes at the two, he caught a glimpse of what Charmy was carrying, a plain box in simple wrapping, whizzing through the air. The experienced nin-jitsu artist expertly tossed one of his shuriken at the falling package. It was violently pinned to the wall with a dull thud vibrating through the air.

Vector, who tried to muzzle his gruffer nature lost control, "What's wrong with you?"

Charmy knew the magic words that would cure his boss of agitation, "It's here, it's here! We've got work!"

Those simple words worked their miracle, as Vector's face softened and then proceeded to assume a look of complete disbelief, "What?"

Espio's aim had been precise. Precise enough to catch the box and slash one of the strings that held the box shut. With the overlapping tie-down cut, the weight of the box's contents forced the lid open. Intriguingly, a small red communicator came tumbling out of the packaging. Vector clumsily caught the device in his oversized paws as it crackled to life.

A deep, ominous voice squawked out, "I've heard good things about you and require your detective services."

It was a peculiar, flattering, way to contact the Chaotix. A hint of mistrust floated in the air.

"And I can pay you handsomely."

Any glints of distrust were replaced, in Vector and Charmy's eyes, with a much greener perspective. Espio knew the look in their eyes. If this were a cartoon, a dreadful cliché of dollar sign eyes would register in the chameleon's mind.

Therefore, he offered a serious protest, hoping to be a reasonable brake to any flights of fancy, "I've got a bad feeling about this…"

Vector was too caught up in the radio's final statement to be swayed, "Espio, don't be silly!" Vector then presented his only bit of leverage, the rules, "Besides, you know our policy. We never turn down work that pays!"

Espio rued the day he had agreed to formulate a "company policy." But, he never refuted its legitimacy. As long as he played by the rules, he could use similar "legal pretexts" to force Vector into a corner on another occasion. Still, he wished he had demanded that the policy be written down, that way he could better keep track of it.

As usual, Charmy was of no help. He dutifully parroted the boss, "Yeah, you know our policy!"

Vector, feeling the control he now exercised, gave orders, "Come on boys," he said while making for the door, "let's go!"

Charmy literally made a beeline after Vector, "Yes sir!"

Choking back a considerable amount of disgust for "the rules," bootlicking, and his general indignation, Espio regrouped and dashed after his hustling compatriots. "Roger," was his only agreement to any of this unusually shady deal.

Eggman was having serious second thoughts about his initial selection. The people on the other end of his two-way communiqué seemed overly greedy, a plus, not to mention suspicious, a definite negative… and was that a child with them? Cream, Tails… didn't these people believe in day-care centers?

Child rearing aside, Eggman had too much to be concerned with to need to deal with miscreants and their brats. Looking at his new "To Do List" Eggman already realized that he had his work cut out for him. He had to guide his would be rescue team to his location, while having them sabotage anything that Metal could use for his own purposes, free himself from his makeshift prison, and reassert his control over his empire in the making.

Oh well, nothing like a challenge.

He already realized that if he were to stop Metal, not only would his puppets have to prove themselves as capable combat troops, but also they would have to eliminate certain advantages that Metal might seek to exploit. Eggman knew his new E-666 well. It would drive Metal to attain as much power as possible and use it to eliminate Sonic, Metal's prime directive. The foremost source of power he could think of, the Chaos Emeralds were discarded, E-666 understood what they could do, and their potentiality as a Sonic weapon. So what else?

Eggman shuddered to remember Metal's ability to copy biological data from any given subject. E-666 had apparently enhanced that strength. Metal was being very forthright when it told him how it was going to destroy Sonic, by copying any bio-data necessary for success. Eggman knew there were two sources of that kind of power. That's why those detectives he had just hired better be able-bodied enough to "detect" chaos. Even the cutest, most adorable chao has traces of Chaos bio-data on it. Metal hand another option as well.

Another thing those detectives had to do would be to get to Eggman's own canyon base and destroy certain items. As it stood, Eggman had been developing top-secret projects, some so top secret that the only place he could store their progress was in his own prodigious memory. Why, if he had stored even some of them on the mainframe, Metal would have already accomplished its goal by now. That's why those dupes needed to destroy a considerable number of the research pods that Eggman had built. The pods needed to be destroyed, as well as anything within them…

Hopefully, his temporary employees would be willing to take any order.

Why are you so reluctant to give orders? It's for the betterment of the Empire, not to mention it will accomplish your goal after all this time of trial and error.

You're new to this game. Being a private soldier and a supreme commander is a radical jump. One must adjust.

More like stall.

Very well then… It needs to be done anyway.

Metal was beginning to regret his spontaneous move to release G.O.G. But, there was little he could do about it now. He needed his new companions to go onward, or he would be forever downward bound.

The source of their argument was what was necessary for the huge columns of troops on the ground below them and in the air above. Sitting in the Egg Mobile, Metal could easily be seen from any vantage point by any of the robots around him. So many eyes and attentive ears… He'd never given orders, except to foes. And even then, they were the Master's directives. Now, thousands of visual sensors and audio receptors were trained upon him. Fortunately, E-666 made it impossible for the robots below to realize that the Master had been supplanted.

Finally, from Eggman's personal craft, in Eggman's own voice, and to Eggman's own troops, Metal spoke:

"Soldiers of the Mighty Eggman Empire! Today you begin the great endeavor that will bring about the accomplishment of your most important, your most singular, duty: the conquest of the whole Earth!"

Eggman loved to give speeches like this. For Metal, it was a necessary device to further his acting.

"Do not restrain yourselves! Yours is an objective that has no restriction, no circumstance to keep you from its completion! You, all of you, are the greatest fighting machines that I have assembled to date! No one can stop you; no one can oppose you and the brilliant campaign that you will strive for!"

A strange sensation, a new perception was working its way into Metal's mind. He was beginning to feel something as he spoke these words to the troops that he now commanded. He thundered on.

"There is but one purpose for you and for me: the expansion of the Eggman Empire! Ours will be a new world order where everything is strictly ordered and progress will grow faster than any inferior plant! We are united by evolution, by striving for the highest goal, the greatest triumph! And I tell you this: Don't be ashamed of yourselves, you the greatest of the great, who will go forth!

"Many of the people that you go to subjugate will resist you. This is stupidity at its finest! None of them are aware that you will be granting them the unimaginable progress of the Eggman Empire. Rebels, counter-revolutionaries, all of them are your enemies! Do not show mercy to them, nor give them any quarter! Those that refuse to be refined must be cast aside like so much rubbish!"

A murderous tinge began painting the stream of words babbling from Metal's reformed mouth. He was beginning to lose himself in his work. The understanding that he was taking from his own tirade was beginning to alter something, something indefinable, within him.

"Least of all, you should show no pity for that criminal, Sonic the Hedgehog and all who stand with him! To inferior minds, they would seem like 'cute and cuddly little play pals.' But, they aren't! They are lower level evolutionary trash that refuses to make progress! Characters like Sonic fritter away countless hours "being cool," and never contributing to society, except as a destructive little pest! That's why he's been a hindrance to me all this time!"

Metal seemed to be getting deeper and deeper into whatever was seizing his voice as turned to full rage.

"So, all of you put your best efforts into squashing that vile little troublemaker! I, myself, will be doing everything within my power to destroy him, and I expect the same of you! If you fail… then let none of you come back still activated!"

The emotionless faces stared vacantly at their supposed commander, none offering the least resistance to these destructive commands. At that moment, Metal whirled the Egg Mobile around in mid-air and pointed toward the transport ships and battleships ahead.

"Now! Forward… March!"

The great rattling and trampling that echoed through the canyons seemed like a great and terrible storm cloud rumbling through the very air. The weight of the troops marching toward their fate shook the very earth itself. Cascades of reds, greens, blacks, purples, blues, yellows, and silver washed forward in a great torrent.

A little melodramatic wasn't it?

… Yes. It was, but the part had to be filled didn't it?

Of course it did. Of course it did.

Continued…