Metal: I have now surpassed that abrasive ash-can of fodder that is my former author, PenFullofChaos819; who still denies ownership of any Sega exclusive material herein.

Silver: *Yawn* Yay…go Metal… Wee…Metal… Hmm…ahem! He maaaaaakes…~Weak tweaks, then leaves a wreck. Metal the fake drone. Too fast for a grammar check! Metal the cheap clone. Metal, he can't really type. Metal, he's way too full of hype. Metal, he's the crappiest writer aliiieeeiiive!~

Metal: Meh, sheer unoriginality… Haven't you already parodied aught and all under the sun with such noise? But since you obviously still miss our dear real-world companion, it's time I introduced a 'pen' of my own. The best part is…it glows in the dark *activates plasma-cutter*

Silver: *Eye roll* No offence to you and your little 'light saber', but to be straight, you sucked. Your dialogue and overall representation of the 'shifter' was weak and artless, not to mention such poor word-choice, and to say nothing of the unprofessional "*Sigh*" text I caught. All this and more was shabbily littered throughout your fantastic chapter. In short, you blew it like an overfed fuse-box trippin' on gold.

Metal: Heh…funny you should say that because…

PoC: The shifter scene and the asterisk-enclosed mistake were both my contributions.

Silver: AH! PoC! You're back so…oh…shoot. Um…well, Pen I just… Look, I didn't mean to…

PoC: Nah, no worries. It's my bad for being so sloppy. What say we make a comeback this chapter, Met?

Metal: Hmph, anytime you're ready. *Mumbles*…no good, sluggish, ink-spilling…

Silver: O-Okay so… No love lost then?

-l-

Touch

-l-

Void…absolute darkness all around… A reminiscent scene to be sure.

PRogrAm erre detect… Syztem FAilure

For him, it was much like being born again, or perhaps…

error…fatal dAta CorcO1010rcRrcorruption…

…perhaps this is how 'shutdown' felt.

"Can I…start over…?"

…system restore initiated

Mild warmth slowly welled up inside him, followed by a faint, almost lethargic, whirring. Soon after, a small spark gave his entire frame a jolt.

When at last his optics kicked on, flickering badly enough, Metal suffered an overload of the bland, non-color white. Slow adjustments confirmed that he was, in fact, lying on an operating table, a robot's hospital bed equivalent. Given his current energy, or lack thereof, Metal was rather accepting of these temporary 'comforts'. Predictably, no day of the Sonic clone's ever stayed relaxing for long, as something started tugging at his sore arm. Having been strapped down, per standard PHP (Potentially Hazardous Patient) procedures, the grumpy speedster could merely groan his discomfort away.

His torture soon intensified with the recovery of his hearing: Repetitions of the words Gretel, petal, or kettle were but a sampling of the audible abominations that kept making his high-performance 'ears' ring. Upon sorting out the information, scrambled in his fatigued mind, the steely hedgehog verified the 'noise' as a persistent chant of "Metal, Metal, METAL!" The last of which caused painful receptor overstimulation, bad enough for him to outright shout in agony.

"Yay! See! See! Mr. Metal's finally up, Mama!"

Though still reeling from his excruciating wake-up call, Metal soon found his annoyance replaced mild intrigue. Perhaps he was still just groggy, but if not, then that voice certainly belonged to…

"Mama…why're you hiding? Come on! Come say hi!"

Of course…he knew that voice.

Lifting his still fuzzy red eyes up, Metal gradually focused on a little fox-like figure leaping up and down excitedly. How the child could literally spit more than fifty words every three seconds like clockwork was beyond the hedgehog's mental faculties. Metal had just about told the pesky, but admittedly…cute, little ankle-biter to be quiet until he noticed another very…VERY recognizable face.

Indeed, his vision did not lie; behind the excitable tyke stood a much larger, silvery figure standing in the background, smiling nervously.

L

*Silvia's POV*

L

Murderous, traitorous, and inherently corrupt were all matter-of-fact descriptions reserved uniformly for only the worst and most depraved of individuals. Based upon their kind's typical lack of true 'free will', few to none of the general mechanized populace ever deserved more than one of these fiercely condemning labels.

Yet Silvia hatefully presumed each of these fit her quite well.

Down as she was, the hybrid supposed that, according to the strange vocabulary employed by E-85, she bore a sort of self-imposed stigma based upon her recent actions. Not that they had been at all illogical or illegal, save for her smuggling Metal into the Medical Wing. Still in all, some manner of inexpugnable 'guilt' or 'disgrace' remained with her. This feeling only intensified when she considered how good…no…more like wonderful, the day before had started out. But now, with the coming of a new dawn, her once cheerful disposition had suffered a heart-wrenching overhaul.

In a way, it should've been a delight to see Metal wake from his hours-long coma. The child too expected her to greet the warrior hedgehog with no reservations or hesitation, a request to which she offered up only a feeble smile. Miserably though, seeing his bitingly crimson optics again brought a great deal of fear and guilt back into her semi-organic mind. Fear, predominantly because of Metal's proven penchant for…brutal retribution. Guilt, however, had a larger place in her thoughts, considering how relaxed and trustworthy she had known the Sonic copy to be, right up until his break of insanity. Even acting in self-defense, and under orders of her master, Eggman, no rational could make her actions feel justified, much less convince her that Metal had been the one out of line.

For one reason or another, the rules, regulations, and even Eggman himself, mattered very little in comparison to the state her friend was in.

"Mama…? What's wrong?" The child innocently asked her. Being crafted out of the obedient machinery she was, Silvia likely would have given the doll an answer, if she had had one. Not that it mattered now, considering Metal's awakening had rendered her completely mute. This, in a way, wasn't terrible, as her wordlessness could hardly make matters worse.

Given time though, the combined gazes of both parties started to unnerve her beyond discomforted silence. With her instincts starting to take over, Silvia followed her protective programming, which in turn ignited within her the sudden urge to flee. Such an urge was soon translated to action when Silvia detected, or at least thought she detected, an audible response from Metal himself.

As if on cue, this poorly attempted escape was thwarted by the timely arrival of their friendly, heavyweight head physician, E-85.

"Well now, Miss Silvia, you certainly seem to be in a rush." The medical supervisor announced in a mischievous, if not infuriating, tone "What's the hurry, dear? Really, after watching over him for hours, I would think you could at least spare a simple 'hello'."

Silvia's mouth fell agape when the jumbo-sized snitch had the audacity to comment on the hybrid's well-kept vigil. The doll didn't make things better when he blurted out precisely how much time Silvia had spent fixated on her injured commander. Neither one of the mouthy robots would shut up until Metal, newly freed from his restraints, looked up and commented "Hmph, is that so? You just stood around staring at me while I was deactivated?"

Still as sharp as a diamond-tipped saw, Metal's words never failed to cut deep. Nothing was helped when 85 chose to do them a 'favor' by dismissing herself and the young doll. Metal too granted her no ease when he rose up to his imposing height and glared, or at least she thought he glared, right at her. Did it ever cross 85's frayed circuits that Metal might be in the mood to execute himself a helpless hybrid? Between the duo's abandonment and the doppelganger's edginess, Silvia had every right to her negative outlook. Not that it mattered now, since the Sonic clone had, in his gradual approach, virtually pinned Silvia against one of the room's bleach-white walls.

Trapped and without a single hope of outside intervention, Silvia's irises snapped over to her offensive/defensive golden hue. Having noticed this detail or not, Metal took immediate action by catching the girl's arms up in his tight grip. Confusingly, Silvia's more 'natural' nerves were about to suffer a breakdown from raw fear, but her more robotic side felt as though Metal's touch had sent an exhilarating, high-voltage current throughout her entire frail-looking frame. With her processors overloaded with conflicting information, Silvia submitted to the mental paralysis Metal had, knowingly or unknowingly, inflicted upon her. She could now only watch as the doppelganger's ruby eyes traced over her, as if predatorily searching for a weakness.

How long this system-crashing overview took, she didn't know. However, her greatest shock of all came when Metal looked up and, in the…softest tone imaginable, said "Silvia, I…I can't remember our last mission very well, but…did I hurt you?"

Silvia was forcibly jarred out of her immobilizing daze at his question. Very quickly, she found herself meeting his powerful gaze, which no longer seemed oppressive or lethal at all. Indeed, though maroon-colored they remained; Silvia swore she could see concern for her shining within his battle-hardened irises. Relieving as it was, Silvia clammed up again when Metal's grip loosened considerably, now just sort of being a soothing hug. At last, after his frightening lapse in sanity, he was showing her his warmer side once again.

Directly answering the metallic hedgehog proved to be something of failure, so Silvia resorted to measures that again had her living side screaming in terror: Taking one deadly step into Metal's own space, the girl pulled herself into his glacial embrace. To say this motion left her vulnerable was a gross understatement; her clash with him was a fresh reminder of what Metal was capable of. Yet she went ahead and seized the opportunity, however spontaneous it might've been. Admittedly, it takes a colossal fool, or total defect, to cozy up to the same monster that nearly had you pulverized. But fool, defect, or whatever else she was, Silvia nevertheless felt inclined to seek reassurance in Metal's arms. There was no reason, no rational logic behind her actions, and no functional purpose for taking this idiotic risk. Unless…well perhaps…

"Silvia…"

Perhaps she had been taken by a new sort of madness.

"Silvia? I think…we'd better go-"

"Oh…how SWEET!"

"Mmm yes…E-85… Is it stupidity, or are you and the boy STILL utterly ignorant of the term 'KNOCK FIRST'?

"Hah! Well in fact, dear, we did. You must've been a little too distracted by something, or should I say someone, to notice!"

"Whoa, Mama really…really likes Mr. Metal, huh? Wait…so is he Dada Metal now?"

With a quiet smile, the girl watched as her tender moment skyrocketed into a free-for-all discussion of personal information. Lost in the clouds as her thoughts were, Silvia completely forwent any possible embarrassment. Instead, she savored the humor behind Metal's melodramatic ego, E-85's ploys of ignorance, and the doll's insatiable curiosity. Together, those three were simply brimming with energy, energy that briefly made the hybrid's rough mission seem like only a bad dream.

Nightmares, however, as she would soon discover, have a way of continually coming back to haunt everyone and anyone that experiences them.

It didn't take long for hers to manifest itself again, in the form of the imposing E-99. Having stepped in on the happy reunion unannounced, E-85 tried, to no avail, to dismiss the large general. The bulky military robot merely brushed the medic aside whilst firmly approaching Metal and the hybrid. Having carefully witnessed this scene unfold, Silvia thought 99's stern face bore a sort of dismayed reluctance before he spoke.

"By mandate of our supreme master and creator, Dr. Ivo "Eggman" Robotnik, I hereby place you, Field Commander Metal Sonic and Private Prototype M-class, under arrest.

L

*Tails' POV*

L

To think that such a crude and practically childish design could keep him locked up was a disgrace. Alas, without his tools or anything in the general vicinity to work with, the prodigy had to admit that Eggman really had him by the long and 'bushies' this time. If only he had a little bit of Knuckles' brawn or Sonic's instantaneous thrust, he could likely dismantle this door in a jiffy. Though, given the surprisingly sound structural integrity of this cell, even those two would be hard-pressed for a favorable result.

In short, he was back to square one, and starting to feel a little defeated.

Matters were worsened by the doctor's unusual neglect for the fox's basic needs. How did the obese fool expect to maintain a hostage if he didn't bother to at least feed them? No, perhaps it was his vendetta against their trio. Tails was well aware of all the trouble Sonic, Knuckles, and himself, whom Eggman collectively and mockingly referred to as the 'Sonic Heroes', had caused the mad scientist over the years. Still, to treat a child in this way was just abominable. He could only imagine how awful it would've been if Cream had been taken in his place…

Empowered by that last thought, the kit was once again back on his feet and resolute about finding a way out. However, just as he approached for another crack at busting the lock, that same annoying screen the doctor used earlier was now protruding out from its thin compartment. Tails tried to remain cool as he came face to face with Eggman's ugly mug for the second time.

"Good morning, my brush-tailed prisoner. Enjoy the cold steel bed frame I picked out for you? Maybe now you'd like a nice warm bath of molten iron to wash your worries away?" The wicked man taunted. At least the arrogant egg seemed to be in a good mood today, though that rarely meant anything equally good for any victim who called themselves a mobian. Truly enough, Eggman had a history of being at his most dangerous when completely calm. As such, Tails tried to withhold any trace of nervousness by biting his lip hard. He had no wish to grace the scummy human with a reasonable reply.

In response to the kit's unlikely show of willpower, a trace amount of red appeared on the talking chicken embryo's face. Yet the sizable man somehow collected himself quickly before saying "Playing strong and silent, are we? Well, no matter. I suppose a selfish brat like you is fine with waiting for his precious 'Sawwwnic!' while I…heh-heh…modify this pretty lass."

Perturbed over Eggman's delicate word-choice, Tails kept his gaze affixed to the monitor. A short, four-second wait later, the fox was treated to a chilling sight: A girl, teenaged by appearance, was being led away in the tight grip of a large, E-series robot. The fox boy watched helplessly while the struggling woman was forcefully dragged and shoved through one of the base's many doors. His concern was only heightened when he saw the plated sign posted above, which read 'Experiment Holding Cells'.

"I'd be tempted to find your famed sagacity dubious at best, if you didn't know what THAT room entails for our little guest!" The awful man's twisted insinuation came complete with his trademark, belly-bound laugh, which led to his next statement "Consider her example carefully, my misled mutant. Her fate is the result of ANYONE who crosses the greatest scientific genius in the world! And now…I'll let you watch as I torment this one while you cry in a corner for the hedgehog. But who knows? This might be veeeeery educational, even for you! Oooh-ho-ho-ho!"

With the screen and Eggman's laughter both abruptly cut off, Tails was left wide-eyed and worried. If the doctor wasn't in the bluffing mood, he might soon be subjected to some gruesome 'education' indeed; to say nothing for the pain and suffering of that prisoner. Compared to most girls he knew, even Amy, that one looked especially fragile. There was no way she could stand even mild torture or interrogation. Shutting out his own sight, Tails could again picture the fear that he had seen plastered on her face.

It didn't take long for his eyes to snap back open, now shimmering with a new, but simplistic, motivation present in his thoughts: Someone innocent was about to suffer, and only he could save them.

"I-I guess… I guess it's up to me." The fox commented whilst catching a glimpse of an unsecured ventilation cover high above him; half-wondering why he hadn't noticed it before. Seeing it as his best bet for an escape, Tails hovered up and quickly got to work removing the cover. Unfastening it took a little effort, but soon the vulpine had dislodged it enough to get a good look into the shaft's cramped, dark innards. It shook him up a little just imagining how bad it would be to get caught in such a narrow space. However, biting back his fears and calculations of how he could fail, the kit stuffed himself inside the smooth air-compartment.

"Remember, it's like Sonic said." Tails strained to reassure himself "'Being brave isn't about being unafraid of facing danger; it's being afraid, but being brave enough to face the danger anyway."

Calmed by his friend's old confidence, Tails found the strength to proceed. Sliding further into the shaft, the fox soon made it to an opening where he could see several Eggman robots crawling about. Though not the most relaxing sight, he also recognized the area as being the same as the one he saw on the monitor. Having made the appropriate estimations, he knew it wouldn't be long before he found where they were keeping the prisoner.

"This…isn't going to be easy…but I've heard news reports of a raccoon larcenist pulling off stuff like this. How hard can it be?" Tails chuckled silently, though he still kept focused on coming up with a new plan. He knew it would take every axon and dendrite of his brainpower to figure a way out of this predicament.

L

*With Eggman*

L

Another skillful deception successfully cracked, beaten, and served up fried. Maybe a bit overdone with the further egg correlations, but it changed nothing about the flawlessness of his acting. One usual suspect would, however, almost always question his artful performance at one time or another. Bluntly though, the good doctor felt opposed to dishing out a renegade's revenge today. No, instead he was far too busy riddling out the possible leaps and bounds his new plot would take. Having those…dubious characters, deliver him the wrong hostage, had added a number of interesting kinks to work out. Barring these unexpected events, the last Robotnik would yet make certain that his scheme would not come to ruin. After all, he was the archetypical mad mastermind, and such masterminds are to be mocked, but not underestimated!

Or was it the other way around?

"Doctor, it pleases my wheezing voice chip to, for the twenty-eighth time, remind you THAT METAL SONIC IS CURRENTLY EN ROUTE TO THE A.I.M. OUTPOST!" Orbot shrieked out painfully, obviously putting great emphasis on his message's importance.

His ears had long recieved the message, but little did the obese engineer care. Metal Sonic was a lost cause since the moment he had been activated for his first mission to the Little Planet. True, his latest revival had stirred up some forlorn hope in the doctor's heart, but sadly Metal Sonic was a fading star, a failed project. And yes, the fact that the newest prototype had inherited some of his failed 'genes' did not add any comfort. This is why he had his contingency plan, all gift-wrapped up in his latest invention: A specialized holding cell. The newly designed and delivered capsule would soon serve as the cure, or rather 'manual override', for all of the doppelganger's flawed contributions to the hybrid's programming. Once E-99 placed her in that cell, his preparations would at last reach their long overdue completion.

Fool proof though all this seemed, Eggman couldn't ignore a distinctly heavy feeling in his gut.

Extra mayo though it might've been, he knew there was always a variable; that same undeterminable factor that always managed to undermine him. Whether that little 'factor' in question was the fox-boy, the hybrid, or, unlikely as it seemed, Metal Sonic himself, he did not know. Staging Tails' rescue/escape was one thing, but ensuring that one with Gamma's mind core and Metal's durable body would not, figuratively, come back from the grave, was another.

If nothing else, he could say that he had done one thing right when he made Metal: He gifted him with much of Sonic's own unpredictable, chaotic nature.

Which was, by far and away, his most lethal touch of all.

-l-

End of Chapter Twenty-eight

-l-

Someone asked if I had died, and I am here to confess that that assumption was correct. I had died, but as one of those, as the internet would say, 'born-again, ignorant, cross-hugging, fundamentalist fools' I keep coming back for more! All living flesh is not safe from my insatiable huuuuunger…for reviews? That said, this has been one of those terribly long waits (ignored a lot of good reading to get this finished), so I have no complaints if I get very few.

DanceDream: Do you still read this? If so, I would love to hear your comments on this chapter. You really are one (ONE I say, for there are many XD) of my best supporters :)

Serenity/ravenclaww: And to the gal who inspired me to write this, I say…my bad :(. You've written some very lovely work that I've not gotten around to (looking forward to reading the newest chapter of Dealing With It and Sweet Lullaby). I also miss our humorously nonsensical 'madness' and whatnot. Hearing from you two again will be a pleasure indeed :)

Cut Productions: It's your work I've been shying away from, haven't I? I'm very sorry, but I had limited time to get even this chapter out. Admittedly, reading and reviewing is not the same as writing a full chapter, but I know how you both appreciate in-depth/long reviews, so I didn't want to cheap out. Trust me when I say I've been delayed in reading much more than just Onettsons (which I HIGHLY recommend to anyone reading this note!). Prowerboy, gameloverx, and ravenclaww are all getting some level of silence from me. You'd be surprised how many times I've repeated that last message *sighs*.

Infamousplot: I include you still because you're an important part of this story and Reason. I owe many of my improvements to you even now, and would like to continue keeping your name here as a sort of dedication (if only a measly one on my part). I truly appreciate you, Ip :)

Super Shadix 520: I really hope I got your username correct (doing by memory this time :P). Speaking of which, be sure to let me know if I went wrong anywhere in this chapter.

Mewone: Please tell me if I've missed an update from you too. I need to dedicate part of my down time towards catching up with everyone's work so…yeah if you would. And like everyone else, I hope you liked the chapter!

Guest: I demand life insurance as compensation for my unsightly earthen plot (Freudian slip much XD)! This is grave is fit for but a beggar with a shabby, run-down abode! Eh, what's that? Suits me fine? *Sighs* Ah, woe is meat…

Crap…I keep forgetting who reads this story (anymore)! Pardon me if I forgot to include your username here. I posted this in a bit of a hurry, so you'll have to excuse me DX

Until next time!