*PenofOneAnswer819 does not claim rights to any Sega Enterprises or Sonic Team patented characters or material presented within this work of fan-based fiction: All copyright reserved by the rightful and respective owners.*
Silver: Ugh, is this really necessary?
E-85: I happen to have a comprehensive understanding of Metal's plausible reactions to this treatment. It'll be fine.
Metal: Suuugrraawww shweeeet, spyyyceee and neeeat, givvve meee awwwll thuuhh luuvvv thaa I neeed!
Silver: I'm really starting to think Metal's got nurturing issues. *Cradles and rocks Metal gently*
E-85: With a 'father' like Eggman? What do you think?
Silver: … Trust me, I know what it's like. Ahem, "Metal, sweetie, would you and Doll like to play together?"
Tails: No.
Silver: Aw, come on! I'm begging ya man! You don't know what it's like pretending to be Metal's girl!
E-85: Silver, dear, inside voices please, especially with friends around.
-l-
Purpose
-l-
Odd.
It was all black now, or so it seemed. Internally, he scratched his fuzzy head with stupefied wonder. Perhaps it was all a dream ‒ and a freaky one at that; maybe his capture by Eggman was part of the nightmare too? That would be fine with him; he could afford to do without the 'not being imprisoned and not having to clock a girl in the noggin' parts of course. Possibly his aching head and the squeezing around his throat were just his sudden contact with the bed frame and the sheets boa-constricting his neck respectively.
At the cost of this nice reverie, his scrambled vision soon cleared, and he found he was a little less than satisfied to be caught in the wolf-clawed grip of the silver girl. He wasn't quite sure whether to be proud or ashamed to see that his attack had indeed made contact with his foe; being now a nicely sized welt forming on her fleshy cheek. Then again, in light of perfect hindsight, perhaps it hadn't been the brightest idea to lead a spin-attack with his forehead. Sonic always said "use the feet" or "feet before face" but Tails always did have a nasty habit of putting his feet where his mouth should be.
"So, I knocked myself out?" He groaned, even knowing that he would soon be fried fox fillets in approximately three or so seconds. There had been times that he had failed to take his hedgehog mentor's advice literally, but this particular instance sadly took the cake.
"Strawberry glazed icing and all." He groaned.
Not minding the details, Tails tried to make realistic assumptions: This mechanical thing was going to have him imprisoned again. At least that would be the worst of it; like any good Eggman robot, surely, it would just capture him. Not hurt him, well, not too badly at least. The math made sense on paper, but this robot was looking at him awfully menacingly. Well, 'hell hath no fury like a woman scorned' and all that, so did that count double for recently converted female robots? Adding that if you replace 'scorned' with 'spin-attacked' then…
Perhaps he was in actual danger after all.
Being afraid would have been a natural thing to feel, but Tails felt returned to diapers when gazing into the mechanized girl's eyes. They were so creepy; so disturbing in the way that they changed color so rapidly. Not mention that with the fanged glare she had, Tails was starting to legitimately fear for his life the more her vile grip tightened around his throat.
"So-Sonic…" He moaned out, starting to tear up from a mix of fear and physical pain. Looking back on it now, he knew it had been stupid of him. He just wanted to help, but here he was again; as powerless as ever without someone else's help. Indeed, what he wouldn't give just to have his best friend smash his way in to fix everything. Still, Sonic wasn't coming, he knew that, and even if he was, he was going to be too late. Tails had to cut the dramatic despondence and figure out how to free himself, preferably before this electric witch chose to barbecue his whiskers.
Wriggling his fingers in-between his neck and her clawed grip, Tails had bought himself just enough time and air to think. Checking the room, there was nothing nearby to reach for even with his tails. Knowing he couldn't overpower her directly, a risky idea came to him: Letting his body fall limp in her grasp would give the impression that he was weak, not dead ‒ he knew these robots had scanners to check for vital activity ‒ and then, if she would inch him just a bit closer, his tails might be within reach of her ankles. He recalled trying something like this while sparring with Knuckles ‒ who was by far a larger opponent than he could ever hope to restrain ‒ and it worked beautifully. If he could hog tie a bulky echidna, maybe a light framed robot too?
He had no way of knowing, but with a struggled gulp, he vowed to try anyway. Going as limp as a wet noodle or fox plush, Tails had to wince at the sudden strength of her grip. Hoping it would ease up soon, he had to hold out until she closed the distance between them. Sure enough, her hand was losing its vigor as he gained proximity on her. A little more and he knew he'd have her. Just a little closer; just a little bit closer, and…
Like all good plans though, one must come to expect the unexpected. Of course, though highly unexpected, nothing says loving like a newly converted robot murderer giving you a deathly hug of motherly affection.
"Too close, a little too close!" Tails flailed in her embrace, not sure whether to sweat in anxiety or blush with embarrassment. It's a well known fact that it's hard to process how to feel when a cruelly warped machine nuzzles you like a fond parent. Additionally, having grown up without many ‒ if any ‒ memories of a loving mother, it all felt new and strangely soothing to Tails' childish side.
"Oh, Doll, I'm so, SO sorry!" She apologized to him with an extra squeeze to his ribs, speaking in a very natural, if not lovely, voice "I thought you were someone else, I was scared, then you attacked and I-I-oh, I'm just so glad it's you!"
Confused emotions and strange circumstances all collided together to give Tails a rather colossal migraine. He cursed his bad luck; he swore that this was just the kind of thing that happens whenever he left home before his morning mint chocolate-chip cookie; not even barring circumstances of involuntary abduction. Nevertheless, like Sonic always said: "Whether things get dangerous, scary, or just weird, it's important to smile and make the best of it."
Tails tried just that, but part of him knew these were rather exceptional circumstances. His analytical mind led him to wonder just what sort of trouble this girl was going to be for him, and maybe for his friends too.
"Well…" Tails muttered to himself, while comfortingly patting the sobbing robot / mobian on the back "Here's another fine foxhole I've dug myself into."
L
*Metal's POV*
L
Marching on past the crowds of so many people ‒ some voices he knew without needing to match to a face ‒ it was of course a humiliating procession. Sometimes like these, Metal wished he could tune out his sharp hearing, hushing up all the things that he heard that day: From the whispered sympathy of some, to the vocal jeers of too many others. Altogether, it made him wonder what the point of this fake visor was, if everybody could so easily recognize him. While he actually understood the need to avoid security drones ‒ which only used retinal verification ‒ Metal was still annoyed by the verbal 'recognition' he was receiving.
In Metal's mind, he clung to the notion of "a good offense being the best defense". Intimidation and grandiose shows of authority would negate the need for feeble support from the 'nice guys', while simultaneously silencing any dissentious mouths. Part of him wanted to do something, anything, to shut them all up for good. Formerly, he wouldn't have stood for a minute of this kind of behavior, now he had to endure it for almost an hour.
"How much farther?" These dead, but somewhat pained, words came out as he shook his head in pure but bided frustration.
"We'll be zeroed in on the scrap yards in about two minutes." E-99 answered when at last they had cleared the more populated zones of the base.
Having soon arrived, Metal noted that the industrial district reeked of carbon byproducts and heaps of heat seared filth. Factories stood just high enough to avoid exposing themselves over the mountainous valley they sat in; each was still so low as to cause the fumes they discharged to filter down and settle along the ground. While the Capsule Containment sector was forged of clean machines all pumping with fresh, golden oil, this dark pit festered with parts tainted by rust and black vats stained with corrupt fluids. For a human, this place radiated a violating, unnatural odor that stank of defiled nature. To machine, on similar terms, this place smelled of blood and death.
It was in this filthy place that Metal was to officially "disappear" according to 99. Record of his being taken to the scrap yards would be kept as tangible proof ‒ in case of an inquiry ‒ of his bodily retirement. 99 and Metal had further discussed this in advance, making sure that even if Eggman should come to realize that the Metal he sent was not the true Metal Sonic, Metal himself will still nevertheless appear deceased on record with factual evidence to support a future claim.
Metal had argued that having a record of him being processed by the scrap yards would stand as both a violation of orders and as evidence of a 'fake' Metal Sonic. 99 nevertheless reassured him by explaining that "The records of the deceased are never consulted, unless they are being used as references for new robot schematics and designs." Adding that "It's isn't as if Master Eggman would expect you to end up here."
Taking that last line as a compliment, Metal still remained unconvinced. It was a risk to be sure, but the danger of having two Metal Sonics caught in the same place was a far greater risk overall. It still begged the question of how he would disguise himself, but strangely 99 claimed to have that handled as well. Given how well thought out his prior planning had been thus far, Metal had few reasons to doubt him. In truth, the doppelganger was starting understand why the general was so highly respected, given how resourceful and well-informed he had shown himself to be.
"Shame that he's little more than a pawn." Metal sighed to himself, noting the general's vast combat database and arsenal to boot "If only he could be a bit more aggressive and assertive as an individual; he would have the potential to be one of the most fearsome war machines Eggman has ever built."
Stepping up to the hot innards of a central facility, 99 led the confined clone past the rows of molten chambers. Metal could feel even his potent but light armor slightly give to the murderous surrounding inferno. Standing near these fires, Metal felt something he hated, a feeling he had only brushed up against a few times before: Fear. Being afraid for his pride or for Silvia had been different matters. This time, he was actually afraid for himself.
This new feeling was made worse when 99 at last removed his shameful helmet, which had started to become misshapen from the heats waves radiating off of the liquid metal below. Knowing it was of no further use, 99 cast the bucket into the sea of fire, watching it melt away in the critical temperatures beneath the two of them.
As per procedural customs of those who were scheduled to be deleted for good, 99, with Metal's permission, was allowed access to the outer shell of his central mainframe. There, 99 removed not Metal's main drive, as would only be accessible via dismantlement, but his backup data instead. 99 reasoned that this portion would suffice as Metal's blueprint legacy without erasing or damaging his current onboard system files.
"Just don't get your current data overwritten or formatted." 99 warned, almost jokingly considering how hard it was to alter a Metal Sonic-type robot's database "Well, we don't really have a use for backup memory anyway, seeing as how we generally only live once."
Giving the removed drive over to the waiting factory manager, 99 then closed Metal's outer frame up. Now the slow wait of having the data cleared and processed came about, with only a glowing sea of melted minerals to keep the two busy. Finally unbound, Metal despite his fears walked up and leaned over the railing. 99 did the same, silently watching as other workers were tossing in truckloads of unwanted machinery.
"I always hated this place." 99 spoke up, almost drowned out by the noise of whirring and clanking in the distance "Hits a little too close to home when you've seen tons of your old wartime buddies dumped here after a dozen or so failed missions." Tapping his large fingers against the railing, 99 seemed to let out a long, if not far off, sigh as he added "You get built up all your life to be something amazing, only to end up down there with the rest of the trash." He sighed again, looking as expressive as a square-jawed robot could "Makes you wonder, don't it, private? Why we're brought up out of this junk heap, only to end up face down in it."
Without looking away, a somewhat displaced memory came to Metal as he replied "85 once talked about something called 'introspection'. Said it was this way in which self-aware beings think about themselves. She said they often ask questions about 'where they are going and why'."
Picking up a piece of scrap he had found near his red boot, Metal briefly acknowledged it before tossing into the fire "Sounds like a waste of time to me." Shaking his head, he gestured towards 99 "What's the point in complaining over what has happened or will happen? Who cares? If you know you don't get a second chance, why not just make the most of what you have now?"
99's big light eyes 'blinked', before he out a hearty laugh; a rather strange overly fluid laugh that sounded nearly organic, real even "Like the fleshy old timers say: If you ever live to see some of the things I have, you'll understand. Trust me; I used to be a guns-a-blazin', trigger-happy soldier always going off half-cocked too. Killing and kidnapping is more or less our business, Metal. When you do this stuff long enough, when you live to see everyone you knew get sent to the landfill, you start to wonder why you're still here; why you're still doing the same things without much reason."
Crossing his arms now with his back to the metal safety bars, the Sonic clone retorted "If you don't have one, then make one." 99 looked over again as Metal continued "If you don't feel you have a purpose, then try making one up. From what I've heard, even a false reason for living is better than no reason at all."
Turning his head away, shaking it slightly as he saw the worker returning with the results. Slowly, starting to let Metal's strange, almost idealistic sounding words sink in, 99 quietly replied "Well, I guess. Hell, you just might be on to something, grunt."
"You just might be."
L
*Eggman's Secret Base*
L
"Doctor, if I may trouble you with an update."
"You're frankly not worth an update, Orbot." Eggman stated flatly, yet rather politely by his standards. He appeared to be fixated on his third and final check-up on the capsule that would hopefully be the project to end all projects.
"Eggman, you mad genius you, what do you do when the rodent outruns the cat?" Eggman mumbled to himself with questionable sanity "You send a fox that looks like the rodent instead! Hoohoo!" Surely these ramblings must've made sense to him in his own fevered way.
"Doctor, I'm afraid it's terribly important." Orbot insisted, despite his assurance that this new news would kill the doctor's rare good mood.
"Orbot, a masterpiece is at work, and all your rambling is shaking my scaffolding!" Eggman dramatically shouted, waving his arm in a comical, theatre-esque fashion "Despite your vain attempts to distract me, no color of panic or blight of ear-rending scourge can touch inside of my innermost me any sense of drea-red? Orbot, why do I see red and what is that noise?"
"Multiple areas of concern, sir." Orbot admitted, while starting to explain from the top rightmost quadrant of the screen "Several targets have been listed as AWOL or missing in a very short time span." Pulling up a screen, Orbot displayed a chart containing wireframes of said targets "As many as fourteen regulars are missing, along with a high ranking general, E-series model no.99. E-99 has failed to report back from a suspicious arrest he made on the base not seven hours ago."
Eggman was now a bit crimson in the face, knowing full well the orders he had for 99 prior to his disappearance. Still calm enough to listen, he heard Orbot continue "Additionally, Miles Prower has also prematurely gone missing from his cell. While his whereabouts have not been confirmed, I have been notified of several security breaches within the Experiment Holding Cells sector."
With a rather gritty frown sliding its way over his face, Eggman spoke with the squeaks of a steaming pot "Orbot?" Clearing his throat, he tried again "Orbot, do tell, is that all the bad news you have for me?"
Orbot, shaking like no machine should, kept one eye on his master while the other darted over to read another entry "And the M-class Prototype appears to have escaped from its cell."
Eggman, tightly chewing his lower lip with his big blocky teeth, seemed unable to reply properly. Expressing unusual calm, the doctor merely set his slave and butler down ‒ whose neck he had unconsciously wrapped his fingers around ‒ picked up his tools, and wandered back towards the capsule for another check-up. More than questionable were the doctor's actions, considering the kind of bedlam that could result over this scale of unchecked variables. Nevertheless, Eggman merely went back to mumbling and fiddling with his latest creation.
Orbot, not one to understand his crazed master, went off rather mechanically as a result of his own stupefied confusion "Master, leaving so much to chance puts your plans at risk, ergo your plans to infiltrate your enemies might most definitely will fail, ergo you need to do something, ergo I haven't told you all of the bad news yet-"
"That's enough, Orbot." Eggman interrupted, somehow still retaining his calm from before "I've learned by now that, when dealing with this kind of chaos, sometimes some things just don't go your way. And when they don't, well, let's just say I'm taking a page from my enemies' book, by not worrying about it."
Just before Orbot could finish, Eggman once again grabbed him by his adjustable lamp stand neck and said "Besides, it never hurts to have a last resort, just in case everything you've designed before decides to fail you." Smiling even wider, Eggman fumbled towards the capsule he was working on, which turned out to be separate from the Prototype's trap altogether "When you have a big mess, it's important to hire a maid with a BIG vacuum! Thus, I brought this beauty over from that lost cause of a base. Hopefully it won't be necessary at all, so I can discard it like the rest of the trash."
Turning away from the new capsule, Eggman gave his new orders "Until then, Orbot, we have some hunting to do. Find me E-99 and bring it here; disabled or not, I really don't care. As one of very few loyal failures left, I won't tolerate any more traitors in my base. Secondly, make sure my tracking device for the Prototype is bug free and fully operation. Oh, and while you're at it with task number one, take back 99's tracker. I only made two, and I think the last thing we need is another breach of security."
Getting back to work, Eggman turned and said "That is all for now, so get out of my sight while I'm still feeling gracious!"
Not thinking twice, Orbot saluted his master, and floated away to rally a number of Sentinels. Squinting in fear, the little robot nervously rubbed his hands together as he whispered "I wonder if he'll be mad that video footage shows Metal Sonic is still active?"
-l-
End of Chapter Thirty-three
-l-
Yet another entry is finished, and hopefully one to my readers' liking :)
