Consider these shorts as prototypes to the kickoff events in Hedge SS. Hedge SS requires a little more detail, story structure and research than what I'm delving into here.
Below are the sequel parts to Sonic and Shadow's birthing events. The writing is more complex of course since the conflicts are now established and the characters have more to do.
While Sonic had assumed he was born naturally, waking up in the lab threw him for a loop. Humans, not animals, are his "parents"? He can't accept that!
Subject A: Son Of Captors
"WAIT!" shouted one of the scientists from a distance.
The blue blur zoomed down the corridors of the labyrinthine laboratory. He had no intention of remaining trapped within such confining walls. He panted as he swerved at junctions, passed incubation chambers, and zigzagged down a stairwell.
But when Sonic entered a hydro maintenance core, he couldn't handle the wet roundabout to the exit and slipped, slamming sideways onto the floor and skidding. He banged his head against a water pipe.
His memories of sunny fields clashed with his bleak prison.
When he got to his knees, grabbing the newly formed bump on his head with one eye shut, he saw a container of glass being cast down upon him. Its holder was a strange robot shaped like some kind of horse or cow. Bipedal at first, as the scientists in pursuit of Sonic were drawing near, it released the container and lowered itself on all fours. Sonic's ears flattened at the sight of it, because it looked to him like an ugly metallic mockery of the animals he had encountered in his dreams.
"There he is!" exclaimed the lead scientist. His chuckle echoed into the room. "Slippery little devil."
He and his team surrounded the container, cornering their experiment from every angle.
"To keep you from injuring yourself again, that glass you're under is composed of diamond," the director explained to the feral specimen as he tapped on the glass. "It's fortunate you didn't activate your shoes' electric power here around the water or you might've gone into a seizure. With some tests we should be able to cut that risk in the engineering lab."
Sonic jumped to his feet. His initial confusion toward the humans was enough to push him to escape, but now it reached a point where he had to engage them.
"Speak a little less crazy, why dontcha," he backtalked the director.
Meeting the challenge, the director slipped a hand in one pocket and tilted his head down with an easing sigh. "If you're going to demand anything from your creators, at least learn to say the word 'please.' I know it's in your vocabulary... Sonic."
The hedgehog grimaced. "What's a 'Sonic'?"
"You of course. Or just 'Son' for short. Our son. What do you think?" Fake warmth glinted from the director's eyes.
Sticking a finger in one ear and twisting it around, Sonic deflected the air of creepiness he was sensing. "I think... you're a strange guy."
"We might be different species, but my team created you, and for a great purpose." The director nodded to assure everyone he had things under control; he had much patience with the rude mammal.
"Yeah?" Sonic raised his nose. "If you 'created' me then prove it."
"Hmm. Let's see." The director held out his clipboard and flipped through some papers. "According to official documentation you're the result of our H.E.D.G.E.H.O.G. GEO 'genetically enhanced organism' project, authorized and funded by our government's military to build a supersoldier." He took a brief pause. "You've already exhibited some of your super athletic abilities - made possible by your advanced motor cortex and hypermetabolic pathway."
The information hurt Sonic's head more than the bump he'd acquired. He rubbed at it. "Ugh. That sounds too complicated to be for real. Must've broken my brain on that pipe."
"No Sonic, you're more resilient than that. This is your reality. See why we've named you Sonic? You're faster than any other living creature on the planet. It's what we designed you to be."
The blue hedgehog stared down at his conductor shoes in disbelief. How, though? Where were these humans when I was out running free in someplace green? There's no way. He peered up at the director, and the other scientists surrounding the container. They were writing notes on their clipboards. Notes on him. His speech patterns. His behavior.
"You enjoy running, don't you?" probed the director, lowering his clipboard. "That's to be expected. Your emotions are linked directly to your biology. But we'd prefer to hear from the subject how running empowers him. Makes you a bit brave but also a bit reckless, yes?"
Sonic folded his arms and shifted his spines to the annoying man. He didn't want to give his thoughts on the matter, because he had a gut feeling he would be exposing a weak point, as prey would to a predator. Best to keep his inner life a mystery.
And yet... these humans were the only ones who could give him answers about his physical life. He blinked in contemplation.
"He's being shy," the director joked at the hedgehog's silence. His next suggestion, however, took a serious tone. "Team? We should have him sedated and tended to."
"I'll page the Experiment Control Squad," said one of the bigger, darker-skinned scientists. "We'll need more than the patrol robot to restrain him once he's out of that glass."
Patrol robot. Sonic gazed over at the four-legged robot cow thing. The head on its long neck was a camera; it was soulless and seemed to possess only a single function: to capture.
"Our health expert will heal that painful bump on your head." The director gestured to another scientist, and Sonic's eyes followed. In his view was now a woman, mousy and gray with glasses.
"'Health expert'?" he repeated. "That decayed old lady?"
The aged lady wrinkled her brows at Sonic's lack of respect. "You may call her Dr. Peregrine," stated the director, "and she will be happy to assist so long as you cooperate. When we sedate you, understand that it's for your own protection. You have little idea the power you're capable of, and until you learn how to conduct yourself we have to take precautions."
"That's right," agreed Dr. Peregrine sullenly. "Do what we ask, please. It'll be easier for all of us."
Though her deadpan appearance was unpleasant, her words calmed Sonic somehow. His fast breathing slowed, and his eyes turned sad, optionless. He unfolded his arms and let them fall.
"Hm. Fine," he muttered.
"Good," finished the director, whose name was yet to be revealed. "Dr. Zulu, alert the ECS." The big dark-skinned scientist pulled out a small communication device.
Sonic stood completely still, glaring at the metal floor beneath him, torn between dignity and compliance. Guess I've got no choice but to play along with these freaks. But as soon as they let their guard down, I'm finding an exit out of here. I'll tear this place up if I have to. They didn't really create me - they admitted that they stole me from a real hedgehog.
To G.U.N.'s despotic breed of humans, "ultimate life form" means "a creature to control by any means necessary." How about, control by spinning a web of lies?
Subject B: The Cure Is Another Sickness
"Come in!" the nurse invited nervously.
The metal door creaked open. Four figures - a tall scientist, a short scientist, an engineer and a uniformed lady - entered. The lady had her hair up in a bun, though her plastic smile gave her an identical appearance to the nurse who was caretaking Shadow.
"Look! Your sister's doing just fine!" the tall scientist announced to the uniformed lady. (But was Shadow doing fine?)
"I'm always so proud to see her working on her own," the lady replied, commandingly cheerful.
The nurse held a breath at the sight of her superiors, then glanced over at the black hedgehog who was still lying on his side on the table. She whispered to him. "Psst. Excuse me. Excuse me! It's the director! He and my sister Joy are here! Please, try to get up!" She sounded very impatient despite earlier acting otherwise.
"Huh?" Shadow lifted his head, still hugging the bag of ice. He peeked over at the nurse.
"The director! He's our top authority! He's ready to meet you!"
Shadow set the ice aside, grunted, and forced himself up to a sitting position, twisting the wires attached to his head. He felt woozy but fought against it.
The nurse frowned at him in pity, but quickly took a few steps away as the four figures approached. Her sister kept smiling to her from the back of the group.
At the front, the director stopped to study the dark specimen. "Hmm, what have we here? Experience some trouble leaving the womb?"
"Sir! R-regarding the pod," hastily interrupted the shorter scientist with a book under his arm, "we ran all the simulations on his hypothalamus during gestation and the problem wasn't - "
"Ha-ha, let's not act so emotional. We're scientists." The director handwaved at him to tie his tongue. "Now," he returned to the subject of interest, "are you feeling well enough to talk?"
There was a moment of quiet before Shadow spoke. "Yes," he replied to him. "Ermph." But he trembled from chills and had to hold himself steady by wrapping an arm around his waist.
The director grinned without a hint of concern. "Excellent. Proper introductions are in order. You will address me by my name: Dr. Boyer. I'm the head of the science team that created you."
Shadow's chest heaved. "Created... me. Do I have a name?"
"We'll get to that soon," said Boyer. "First we need to discuss the state you're in. It was not our intent for you to fall ill, especially not at your birth. Such an expensive setback, tsk-tsk."
"What?" Shadow wished to know more. "What happened to me?"
The director paced off to one side, then the other side, before providing an answer. "...There must have been a breach in your pod. I'm afraid that you caught... the Cerevirus."
Cerevirus? thought Shadow. Somehow that word sounded familiar, as if it were already part of his vocabulary.
"One of the many ailments it causes is fever." Boyer stroked his bare chin. "Currently our whole world is being menaced by this virus. We created you to be immune, but as fate would have it... you were infected."
In shock, Shadow nonetheless tried to absorb this information. Meanwhile, he noticed the engineer behind the director coming over, bending down, and examining one of his rocket shoes.
"We can make adjustments to these," the engineer claimed. "Better that than trimming quills for surgery."
Boyer signaled a hush-hush thumbs-up to him as he retreated. Shadow stared at them both; he had no idea what was going on.
"If it's not out of line for me to ask, how could he have gotten infected if he has super immunity?" questioned the nurse.
"Heh-heh. Tracy - " Joy threateningly giggled.
"No-no," Boyer obliged, "it's a question I'm more than willing to answer." He switched to Tracy. "His immune system is as perfect as his entire design. ...But there is a crucial piece missing."
Shadow's eyes fixed on the top scientist. "What piece?"
He waited for Boyer's response. Eventually, Boyer said, cold-faced:
"Vitality."
Everyone in the room except Boyer and Joy looked confused. Shadow of course was confused the most.
Boyer aided Shadow's comprehension by holding up two fingers. "It's quite simple. You are a hedgehog... who was cloned from another hedgehog." He bobbed one finger that represented the clone of the two.
"I was cloned?" Shadow's ears twitched.
"Yes. You and the original version both possess hyper energy. However, in your case, we required his life to make yours. You couldn't live on your own, and this incident is proof that even after being born, you are nothing without our help."
Shadow averted his eyes, until he watched Boyer bend over him and place the back of his hand against his hot wired forehead. "It's true," Boyer began, "that while you were designed to generate immense heat, you can't fight a virus when it attacks." He pulled his hand away. Shadow felt the spot on his forehead where the director touched.
"If you let such a small virus overcome a powerful creature like yourself, that means... you lack the vital spark that belongs to your forerunner. The will to live, the motive to survive. And that's why we've decided to name you: Shadow."
At the reveal, Boyer moved his back to the hedgehog and walked off as his assistants stood aside. Deathly attentive, Shadow was reminded of why he felt that his existence was an error.
Boyer cast a sidelong glance. "You know, it's a very big problem, when a creation doesn't perform to the expectations its creators desired." He turned back around, arms folded. "Do you understand? You cost us a lot of resources, time, money... what do you think you ought to be? A drain on our life support systems?"
"I..." Shadow hunched as he held in his chills, and stared at empty space in shame. "No..."
"Then tell us," Boyer needled him, as his assistants observed like stone statues. "What should you be?"
Shadow tensed in unsteady thought. The will of the humans clawed into him, because he had been ravaged by both heat fatigue and blackened self-perception. "I should be... what you wanted me to be. Sorry."
A smirk appeared on Boyer's face, then faded as he spoke further. "That's a start. You may still have a chance to fulfill your obligations to the ones who brought you into existence. The key lies in discovering your own vitality. Then, putting your power to use for the good of mankind."
Boyer took grace-giving steps toward Shadow as he spread his arms out in front of his assistants. "We'll train you to do that, although it's essential that you put your absolute trust in us. In me." So he leaned and offered Shadow his hand. "Well? I'm waiting."
Tracy was anxiously clenching her delicate hands to her chest.
The shivering hedgehog had no other hope to cling to. He held out his right hand, while his left remained gripped around him.
"Yes, Doctor. I trust you." And once Shadow had sealed the deal with those words, he and Boyer performed a handshake. Dread filled the recovery room.
Aaand let the shame-based mind control begin. It's absurd for Shadow to believe he was responsible for his own illness, yet this becomes his main driving force toward achieving peak performance.
Sonic's suspicions about his origins are not unfounded. After all, he has vivid memories of the natural realm. Was he plucked from a flesh womb so he could be placed in a mechanical womb? One thing's for sure: he doesn't take kindly to either genetic or psychological manipulation.