E-85: Out like a light.
Silver: I'd say I'm crazy, but since he passed out I swear it's like he's been having a dream.
E-85: Oh my, how… Dear, could you wait outside?
TD: 'Kay, does momma want to come too?
Silver: I'm not momma! Do I look like I have brrr…aids in my hair?
TD: Would…'not momma' still like to play? It's okay, I have dolls for girls too.
Silver: The name's Silver! And I don't play with dolls…(that often).
E-85: Doll, honey, please.
TD: Oh, okay. Bye, Miss 85! Bye, Miss Silver!
Silver: H-heyaaahh… Grrmm, can we get on with this?
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Inquiry
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Firm glares and returned salutes pressed aside most curious gawkers, at the points where a courteous elbowing was not casually permitted. By throwing his weighty girth around ‒ a warden's mannerism most effective when traveling with a known convict ‒ a path was soon cleared for their trek to the general's quarters.
Hidden beneath a crude helmet, being in actuality a large mop basin, the criminal and critically ill-tempered Metal Sonic suspiciously offered no complaint. Little could, would or likely even should be said about his acquisition of the odd, but decisively stylish headgear. It could be noted in passing that the bucket had been speared forcefully onto the hedgehog robot's quills, hinting to a potential struggle prior to his adorning the strange helmet.
Having pressed the hedgehog all the way into his office, 99 removed the makeshift blindfold with a jostling heave as soon as the door slammed shut behind them. While allowing the doppelganger time to adjust, the hulking E-robot tossed himself into his equally sizable chair and sighed "And here we are. Might be a bit small, but I say it stands sufficient for an old war horse like me."
Indeed, the amenities were sparse, even by robotic standards. No hibernation capsule or supply stations could be found. This left the room blank, except for a peculiarly small computer monitor linked to a disproportionately sized interface. The room seemed to be in a terrible state of disrepair as well: Holes lined the rusted walls, while old grease stains were speckled across the little floor space there was. In all, it seemed better fit to be called a storage closet for custodians, rather than any kind of office, especially one supposedly tailored to fit the overbuilt general's use.
99 wasted no time in getting to the matter at hand. Having just logged in to his comparably tiny computer, he swiveled his chair away from the desk keyboard and asked "Now to business: Metal Sonic, how long have you been masquerading as an officer amongst our ranks?"
"Inflammatory questions were to be expected, but were those of blatant ignorance necessary?" Metal thought, crudely wising to disregard the loaded question. While the Sonic clone held the quintessential high ground among tactical cores, he sadly suffered from a rather low budget psychology circuit. And so, after next to no consideration, he answered with a stream of angry retorts, each supplemented by a pinch of derogatory salt. In retaliation for being electrocuted, dragged, 'bucketed' and overall morbidly humiliated, Metal had every intention of being as verbally infectious of a wound as he could be.
Targeting the E-superior's rank and military competence were nearly as ineffective as jibes regarding 99's heavy presence. All insults were met with an infuriating guffaw, or worse, a patronizing patting on the violent hedgehog's head. Thus, agitated beyond reason, Metal's red gaze flared as he calmly stated "And another thing, oh mighty slab, I find the inquiries of an easily discarded pawn to be less noteworthy than this, your neglectful state of living. How ignorant the Master must be, to have failed to scrape off such an ancient scrap of rust from within his own walls."
The laughter grew only louder at this point, yet for the first time almost sounding quite real. 99 then rubbed a wide hand over his square jaw, pulling off some shavings of metallic skin as he did "You certainly have a way about you, soldier. It really sets you apart from all the grunts I've encountered over the years." Turning his head down again to face the wrathfully bound Sonic copy, 99 crudely mused aloud "To pair the mentality of an adolescent boy up with the combat capabilities of a learned killer is easily the most unstable and chaotic plan our Master has ever dreamt up. That might explain why he cares for you so much, and the rest of us so little."
Metal's visor display thinned out to a narrow line. Half pausing to consider the meaning of 99's words, he replied "Whatever you mean, it hardly matters to me. Just tell me how I can be accused of being a masquerader in this scenario." Clenching in his restraints, Metal had not noticed his right arm shiver as he spoke. Something about E-99's began to take root in the back of his mental grid.
Standing up with his hands behind his waist, 99 turned and strode a few paces towards the opposite wall; nearly embedding his face into it in the process, he ground out his explanation "Recording your response was one part of the reason I stated your purported charge. The other is, well, strict to protocol you might say. It would be trouble for me if I were to respond in any way far outside of my programming." His nonchalant tone implied a far harsher truth, but he plainly changed the subject again "With that behind us, I think we can get to the bottom of this without getting 'better acquainted' with one another."
Veiled threats of violence came out as happy compliments to Metal, who observably found comfort in a good fight. Yet despite his first love, Metal felt the nagging inconsistency of 99 dabbling in the concept of hidden meanings to be unsettling. Knowing few robots as 'robotic' as the general himself, it also seemed so out of place for him to spontaneously speak of Eggman in the personal way he had. 72 perhaps would've been so capable, but 99's level of complexity was always several inches short of a bull's-eye.
During the clone's runaway thoughts, 99 cautiously released Metal's restraints, shifting back towards his computer afterwards.
"Data is unique, Metal. In the way every organic being is slightly different, so are we." 99 droned on to himself, bringing up a flat panel blueprint of the entire humanoid E-series family, along with countless other schematics of unrelated animal prototypes "Master Eggman has created all us as simulations of natural life. I have observed that the more powerful the life form, the more likely our Master is to simulate it."
Bringing up another picture on the display, E-99 motioned for Metal to come over; showing the doppelganger his own profile, 99 claimed "Though designed to a greater degree of accuracy, you are no exception. Your profile is just one of several other prototypes ‒ Silver Sonic and Mecha Sonic are the two primary examples ‒ but you, Metal, are the only dubbed a 'perfect simulation' of the mobian known as Sonic; Sonic the Hedgehog, to be more precise."
Metal, his red eyes affixed on the screen, which was now displaying a rich blue hedgehog with green eyes, gave the figure a harsh stare before saying "What is your point, general? So this creature can be seen as my template, what of it? How does this aid our investigation?"
99's blockish jaw dropped slightly as he waved his hand, irritably and clumsily asking "How can your computations still be stuck in the larval stage, Private? I just showed you that there cannot be any other Metal Sonic with your exact data! Even though the other robots descended from the one called Sonic share DNA with their template, they cannot be exact replicas! Make, model, core, DNA simulated, it's all unique to each new creation."
"Let me stop you there; what do you mean by DNA? How can a robot possess deoxyribonucleic acids? We do not have the means to code amino acid chains into functioning proteins, nor the ability to replenish our protein supply via digestive absorption. Or do you mean to tell me that, somehow, Eggman has managed to simulate all of this as well; without the proper nourishment, no less? Secondly, how can I possibly mimic this 'Sonic' without being a mobian myself? And it says here that Sonic has 'unique parameters' to be satisfied before successful replication of his 'full potential' can be considered possible. Care to explain any of this?"
"It seems obvious to me that all that jumbled-jargon can easily be explained by the Master's genius!" E-99 proudly puffed up, but quickly lost his hot air upon admitting "Well possibly I'm just not sure, but as far as I know the process is purely mechanical and synthetic. No new 'cells' are necessary to create a mostly robotic copy of the original template. It's all just data. As for how you are able to mimic Sonic and his more 'unique parameters', perhaps this undisclosed process of so-called 'Chaos Emulation' can better answer your questions."
"Chaos Emulation?" Metal repeated, reading the brief dialogue box paired up with the term "Alright so, Chaos Emulation: 'The principle of replicating and animating a target's prime biological condition relative to the existing laws of chaos matter limits imposed upon a living organism'." Not amused by the intentionally ambiguous description, Metal shoved the general away and slammed the keyboard, inadvertently clicking on the full page description.
"Ngh…simplify this nonsense." He grumbled, forcing his scanners to refine the page's text to more generalized parameters. Reading through again, Metal summarized "Essentially, using a program to simulate a biological organism at the height of its genetic potential. Better, but I still don't understand this part about 'chaos matter'. Evidently, all matter has a limit to the amount of change it can undergo before it crumbles into discord. I don't know if this is somehow related to the laws of thermodynamics or…"
99 shrugged ‒ slightly annoyed at having been pushed aside ‒ and said "I have no idea what you're going on about, but the earlier data proves my point: There can be no two identical Metal Sonics at any given interval. Your body's unique construction is its own serial number. You are the original Metal Sonic right down to your mental core."
"Hmm… fascinating." Metal mumbled, sifting now through the profiles of the other mechanized Sonics "You say these are my predecessors, correct? While I would agree that Silver Sonic was nothing more than a hedgehog shaped shell with slightly enhanced acceleration, this 'Mecha' Sonic is a more interesting case."
"Eh? How do you mean?" 99 asked, now leaning over to see what Metal had dug up "I see nothing out of sorts. This chart indicates that he was designed with higher qualifications, but it makes no mention of DNA sharing or 'Chaos Emulation'."
"Indeed, but Eggman's personal reports state that he was experimenting with DNA simulation and hybridization at the time." Metal argued, pulling up a page of various journal entries "Apparently, Mecha Sonic and another, Robo Eggman, were both a part of the same project. For Robo Eggman, Eggman merely mapped out an A.I. using himself as a template. In Mecha's case, Eggman attempted to replicate not just Sonic, but also his symbiotic use of the mystic gems ‒ known as the Chaos Emeralds ‒ as well. It seems he did not consider the process to be a success, as he noted instability in Mecha's A.I. when exposed to an object known as the 'Master Emerald', which by video evidence might have led to his unauthorized deactivation of Robo Eggman. Maybe part of the restrictions based on 'Chaos Emulation' came as a failsafe to regulate the effects chaos energy would have on future prototypes."
Trying to make sense of the situation, 99 half asked, half wondered aloud "A few issues though: One, the video captured attack on Robo Eggman appears to be an unintentional case of friendly fire. Two, despite similar conception, you and Mecha are still very distinct by design, making any data discrepancies impossible to overlook. Third, are you forgetting that Mecha was deactivated years ago, and that you are his only surviving counterpart? Forth, how are you managing to read the Master's personal entries?"
Rolling his ruby eyes in cocky indignation, Metal clicked on other data links while replying "To answer only valid inquires; I'm simply saying that Mecha and I are similar. I see a direct relationship between our designs. Admittedly though, you are correct in saying that not even Mecha should have a chance at flawless mimicry." The evil clone then, almost smirking through his devious tone, added "As for where I'm getting this research, well, Eggman never placed a firewall or password protection on this information. I don't see how you never found it for yourself."
99, having grown strangely stiff, silently sat up and turned his back. Without a word, the general sat in silence, mumbling what could only be heard as unintelligible nonsense. Noticing this odd behavior, Metal shot a blank stare in his direction "Something I said?"
Rigid, but quick to dismiss any lost composure, 99 poorly hid his reaction by matter-of-factly stating "An explanation would not expedite our investigation." Pressing his hands against the desk for support, 99 coiled his large fingers over his chin and pondered "Based on your findings, do you propose that we are dealing with a data-perfect replica of you or Mecha Sonic? The probability is low to the point of being negligible."
Crossing his arms and methodically tapping his foot ‒ strangely as an almost habitual reaction ‒ Metal nodded slightly and said "The data is only minutely supportive of the perpetrator being a well crafted imposter." Then, struck by this passing thought, Metal slightly changed the mood with a similar subject "By the way, general, you said something about an ongoing investigation of yours. Care to fill me in on the details?"
Now reminded of his own words, 99 responded by fishing out an old fashioned case file from within his bent and tarnished desk. The hard copy nature of the information led Metal to give a quizzical stare, until 99 explained "I did not want any sharable form of this document to exist on any of our networks. Through some effort, I managed to compile my research of, what seems to be, organized illegal activity from within this very base."
Removing the file with some difficulty, 99 slid out a spreadsheet of various serial numbers and titles of E-series robots. One of which Metal, with a sort of odd feeling in his circuits, recognized immediately "E-72." Metal spoke the name with a sort of hush in his tone before reading the rest out regularly. Having a list of all suspects in this strange case, the clone found one in particular without a number and without a proper title. This one suspect truly stood out from the rest.
"E-99, what illegal activities are these names linked to?"
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*Silvia's PoV*
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Enclosed again, shut inside the tank that was her aqueous prison. Had her systems been less sedated by the capsule cocktail, she would have decisively smashed her vault to freedom. Without this option, she stayed in her comatose sate; suspended and placed on display like an empty doll for all to admire.
While waiting for whatever judgment her 'master' found suitable, the prototype had adopted a rather erratic state of mind. Various states of anger sparked snaps of electricity between her fingers, a few of which formed small cuts on her façade of living tissue. These surges were often augmented by the liquid, creating a rippling mirror of lights when viewing the tank from the outside. These surges did cost a bit of energy, forcing her wait a few intervals between resting and unleashing more jolts of defiance.
When fifteenth time had come, she found it peculiar that the fluid was unaffected by her recent outburst. Instead, the volts seemed to be projecting themselves into thin air; she could now hear the unimpeded crackling in her sensitive ears.
Opening her eyes, she saw ‒ without a watery tint ‒ the steel sheen of the Experiment Holding Cells; this hall of canisters was angled in such a way that made her cell the room's central exhibit. For a moment, the prototype found herself imagining what sort of machines lay in similar confinement behind those cruel casings.
This was all seconds before she noticed an alarmingly yellow-orange shape below her. It seemed to have been fumbling and fiddling about with her capsule's control panel, before it promptly scurried away to her right. Curious, and somewhat beginning to recognize the features of the strange creature, she stepped up to the glass for a better look. Whatever it was, it had hidden itself fairly well, leaving her no choice but to exit the cylindrical cell by force.
Carefully she set her fingertips to the glass, attempting to control the amplitude of her internal energized weaponry. Could she have drawn the comparison, it was akin to easing a five hundred horsepower 8 cylinder manual transmission racing automotive vehicle into gear with no driving experience. The power output had a hair-trigger with a messy interface to boot; the slightest spark in a faulty direction would either instigate forced shutdown and / or barbecue her surroundings.
In one stroke, she let loose her first contained blast of concentrated ions. The fluttering gold of her irises flickered only briefly in the dark cell as her attack was launched. Curiously, her intense reluctance to misfire ‒ fearing a penetrating shot might alert others to her presence ‒ seemingly caused her power to release a short range dispersal beam throughout the canister's glassy structure. This nevertheless had the unfortunate side effect of causing the glass to give way with a violent shattering.
Wincing and retracting her hand initially, the experiment then felt a vast sense of relief. She was so pleased and proud to have, for the first time, manipulated her system potential so well. Vaulting carefully over the standing shards of plasticized glass, she afterwards recalled both the need to escape and to identify / elude her unknown observer.
Unwilling to reveal her back to a potential threat, she scanned the darkened space to the left side of her former capsule. High resolution and lighting adjustments revealed that her target had moved. She knew that time was limited, and that this thing likely had a clear visual on her, but also lacked a definitive advantage given the room's congested layout. With only two air ducts and one door to exit by, this mysterious entity had little option for escape.
"Target acquired." She stated quietly but stiffly, her security modules coming to life with passive assertion. Making an indirect approach towards the enigma, the prototype masked her discovery with extreme caution; in a swift turn on her heel, she dangerously exposed her backside blind spot to her potential opponent. The approach was, for all intents and purposes, cruelly ponderous. Silvia found herself wishing that her Eggman-centric logic circuit would win out against her odd compulsion to tremble.
All in one flashing draw; Silvia revealed her hands, alight with golden arks of energy. Pointedly, she stared her surprised foe down. The thing in question was, in fact, a mobian of the Vulpes genus, male and displaying at least one obvious genetic quirk. While otherwise an unimpressive specimen, she found it off-putting how curious and relatively relaxed the yellow creature seemed. While she noted its elevated blood pressure and perspiration, she nevertheless found the mobian's goofily nervous smile to be somewhat disarming.
Finally getting a good long look at this humanoid fox sent a small shiver down her spine. Assuming the poor illumination had not deceived her, the creature looked very much like the doll she had recently grown fond of.
It was impossible, but how could she mistake that innocent face?
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End of Chapter Thirty-one
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When am I not late? At any rate, I hope whoever reads this enjoyed what they saw. The next update is in the works, but will likely take some time.
Until next time!
