A Horrifying, Yet Miraculous, Absolution
Ch. 34
[×]
Their favorite hang out spot was not very conventional. With two weapons and a spy-thief, one would think it would be a gaudy casino, a dank basement, or perhaps even a seedy restaurant would be the location of choice. It was neither of them. Rather, the answer was actually quite large and expansive, even though the colors and shadows of places to hide were numerous. The abandoned mixed pipelines that once carried gasoline and oil rusted in the misty skies; clouds rained their tears on the brown grasses of winter. It was the mark of humanity's old thoughts of progress: a refinery. Chaos Drives and other, cleaner methods of gaining energy now existed, so these desolate icons were no longer in the thoughts of many.
A white bat Mobian squinted at a traditional map. It was made of some sort of burlap, but also horribly scribbled on. The doodles were basically thicker lines – as if a child made them.
Who knew for certain when the bat was involved.
"My source really knows how to make things annoying for a treasure hunter such as myself," Rouge grumbled as the map twisted. "Huh. Look what we got here: the exact same shape of that Chaos Island place. Never thought I would actually recognize something. Guess this is legit."
He moved himself closer to glance at what her hands were tracing. Recognition flashed in his mind. Hands folded in front of his chest as he shifted in place; black quills dripped water onto the ground. "So, Professor had been… right. Places of my future."
To ensure the hybrid did not dwell too far on the tidings of the past, Omega chirped his own opinion. "THERE CAN BE NO GUARANTEE THAT GEMS WILL BE AT THESE NEW LANDS." A metal hand moved. "JEWEL HUNTS DO NOT MAKE GOOD EXPLOSIONS."
"Hush, dear," the bat countered as she continued to try to death stare answers out of the linen. "You got to blow up your base-"
"IT WAS SEVERELY LACKING IN EXPLOSIONS-"
"-and I get to have my treasure hunt next. That's how the rules and turn orders go."
Red eyes shifted over towards the Mobian. "Are you fully positive your sources-" And by that, it was probably some sketchy, illegal individual that Rouge cajoled into spilling the beans of those new landmasses. "-mentioned that this area is clear of all major enemies?"
"Never fully positive about that, Shadow, since my source did not want to talk to me about it much. 66% tops. But that's high enough to visit since this spot of the world literally just opened up." The woman placed her hands on hips. "Besides, a quest for rare goods on the fabled legends of the Ancients is certain to bring in all the rings a girl could want! We'll be rich~! Just think all the collectors that would want this – or countries – or the underhanded markets!" She realized the other two did not care so much about income {when compared to her} and playfully coughed with a fist before her muzzle. "Also, if it really is the same Chaos Island that you waltzed into in White Space, Shadow, we will need to prevent those strange machines from falling into Eggman's hands, right?"
He hummed in agreement, aware that she was trying to appeal to his logic. The mist rolled into droplets and fell from his Inhibitor Rings as he maintained in deep thought. "It would also be better to double check whatever Sonic did there in case he gave a potential enemy compassion it did not deserve. At the very least, we can remove and secure the artifacts before the Doctor can even think about pilfering what is left remaining."
"IF EGGMAN ISN'T THERE, I'M NOT LOOKING FORWARDS TO THE TRIP," Omega grumbled, but scanned the map and enabled it into memory banks. "NO ANCIENT MACHINE MUST GET INTO HIS HANDS, HOWEVER, FOR NOTHING ROBOTIC CAN BE STRONGER THAN ME."
The hybrid made a small smirk. He understood ego and pride.
Wings stretched out. "Best we're careful, though, boys. Sonic sure did a number on those Chaos Emeralds, so…" Viridian eyes flicked towards his own. "Nothing stupid. We bail if it gets too hot. I'm not that greedy for riches – Prison Island was enough of a learning lesson for me."
"ANNIHILATING ENEMIES ISN'T STUPID, BAT."
"Oh, Omega," she playfully swooned, "never change."
"AT SOME POINT MY PROCESSORS WILL HAVE TO-"
Exasperation and a defeated sigh. "Shadow, any help here?"
He shrugged and turned into his own thoughts as his {friends} playfully threw back and forth. Rouge was correct: to go to a new place without an active, charged Emerald was dangerous. He summoned the one that always – almost always {this last event was the first occasion it didn't} – seemed to return to him after Faker's usage. The dull, lifeless color and the lack of sheen felt as cold and empty as the mechanical husk before him. At one point, it was a very specific green, but gray, like the misty skies, was what it now held. Monochrome. Simple.
Yet, it still carried some form of energy. Enough to go to him, at the very least. The gemstone will return its lost luster in due time, anyhow.
Tactically, he had enough natural Chaos Energy within him in case things went sour to escape. "How much is the government of one of the human countries paying you for this… Ancient stuff?" he mused aloud.
There was a cheeky grin. "A lot, handsome. Everyone wants to get a tech victory over Eggman so his almost world conquest never happens again. And then over each other."
He scoffed at the affront of a nickname again.
"Sometimes, the United Federations never change," came a hum as she flapped and landed close to his body. "Well, Mr. Memory of the Future, is the Island too dangerous for us?"
He thought about it closely. "There's a lot of lava-"
"MY THRUSTERS FEAR NO MOLTEN ROCKS!"
"-and the terrain is quite jagged-"
"AFOREMENTIONED THURSTERS."
"-but the automatons did not need Chaos Control…," he trailed off.
Rouge patted his hand in the mist. "Remember: no Chaos Emerald for you means no Emerald for Eggman's top-tier machines, either. He got his butt handed to him by Sonic, no doubt, so he lacks anything new that our hero didn't already tear into pieces."
He interjected. "Except for that… voice."
A shrug from the bat. "Computers can't exactly fight outside their networks."
"ESPECIALLY IF WE DESTORY ALL THE ANCIENT'S ROBOTS!"
"Shut them down for money, Omega," Rouge corrected {again}.
He took in the face of sheer determination from his {friend} – the way her hand curled around the chart; the way her eyes were haughty and excited for something new; the way she had already prepared a stealth aircraft for them to fly under radars by hugging the nape of the ocean…
The hybrid did not want to go. But it was Rouge's turn to choose a location and he had been there before… {sort of}. Also, if he denied joining them, she had the look of 'Well, I am going anyways,' and he had to make certain his teammates were safe, right?
The bonus of potentially stopping the Doctor from gaining those hands on strange tech was all for the better.
… He should have waited. Should have ordered them not to go. Should have forced {friends} with violence, if required, to stay. Should have listened to his instinctual aversion. Should have waited for Sonic to return from recovery so that hedgehog would have warned them of the dangers. Should have at least have told Faker – a capable hero – of their plans in case they required assistance.
Team Dark was used to going in blind.
They were capable.
It was hubris.
And it finally came to collect.
[x]
The White House was aptly named.
It was at the peak of a small mountain that overlooked the bay down below, where the highway of his fury and regret gleamed within eye sight. All along the flanks were defensive positions and trees to cover the obvious signs; anti-aircraft weapons and beetles from the manufacturing plants aboard the ARK silent watchers from white roof lines. Just because they were dressed as wooden dental work – to blend in with the white, classical architecture – did not make him ignorant. Then, there were the snipers: seven of them. Experienced postures and 63 bpm averages. Low levels of chemicals; lax. Normal night of preparation to these organic onlookers.
None of the barrels were aimed at {{Professor}}. This was just the defaulted and standard lines of defenses for a nation's figurehead.
Outside of the practical use of manpower, there resided users of violins, flutes; other musical instruments. The soft harmonics carried into the wind, playing a tune he had not heard before. Black ears tuned it out, for those sounds were not important when compared to ensuring his creator's safety.
He was… on edge.
Part of the reason were the stares he and {{Professor}} were receiving. Looks upon himself were nothing too bothersome. What mattered were the thoughts behind such on locked gazes: each one familiar and reminiscent of the ones aboard the ARK when it came from the politicians. They ranged from the hybrid being silently labeled a money sink; a good PR result that they could attach their names to whenever Project: SHADOW's lesser experiments got released; some of the naïve believed he was truly a possible miracle for organics – those he actually had cared about enough to acknowledge.
Then, there were the military members of G.U.N.. Someone within this crowd potentially was the head of the entire organization at this current moment – the one that Maria and him impressed via proxy back in September. An annoyance. Belligerent. A mix of cells and brain matter that assumed, incorrectly, control over what the ARK forged.
Red eyes shifted towards the right, where officers in their dress blues mingled. He recognized none of them – all for the better – but their motives were darker. One of them, someone of high enough rank based on the epaulets, caught {{Professor's}} attention to ask something. The tidings were standard greetings and welcomes {that he ensured to use that faux, polite facial expression again}. Eventually, the real desire to query the wanted info stroked in. The ponder was explicit: could his Chaos Heal could be used to hurt enemies from afar?
Veiled assassination musings from this officer to enemies in the south.
Hah.
He should have known.
His creator, at least, brushed the inquiry off and simply commented, "The ARK has created medication for your soldiers that need mental help after witnessing horrors of the war in the south with Shadow's help, and you want to ask such a silly thing?"
The answer was 'yes,' however, even though {{Professor}} never said those words. Still, it was a waste of Chaos Energy to accomplish damage in that manner. Besides, he naturally regenerated faster in certain circumstances so much so that he hardly used that technique. Effort was blithe mindlessness with Spears, and that was just one asset in the repository. Epidermises and cartilages were too delicate on the carbon around; no innate shielding to stop an all-out assault. Golden light could sink into regions where neurons massed behind oculars; could leave access to then steal and taste and consume. Where was the one sample with golden blonde hair and blue eyes with markers from the geographical region of 67.5411681 N, 136.5098755 W? A being with data to help {family}? Anything for-
{{'Steal?' 'Taste?' 'Consume?' Why did that sound like he was searching for a target? And then, afterwards, the words if he discovered said object… Why did they sound like a prey against an innocent victim?}}
Thoughts faded.
He felt the only male human that matters' hands rub his head; fingers dug into fur and pulled his conscious away from something… that he didn't know to do describe other than… warm from deep within him. Comfortable. Pleasing. Soothing. "Do you despise politicians as well, my boy?"
Quills moved in a nod as features on his brows relaxed. The irony and distaste from that comment were nothing murderous from {{Professor}} – the elder Robotnik was merely jesting as a way to vent. "Perhaps."
"Well, at the very least, if the President isn't here, we can leave early." Spectacles reflected some of the scene as the two walked around in peaceful silence. This night wasn't specifically reserved for the duo, after all. "I shouldn't stay too long, lest I get tempted."
His tilted his head. "What do you mean by that, Fath-?"
{Family} wanted to tell him. His red eyes could see the way the expression on the face changed into something mirthful and darkened. The hybrid thought back to the motives of this man and a worried feeling settled in. He would stop {{Professor}} from doing anything too dangerous, of course, but he would prefer his creator being able to keep a level of self-regulation. "I don't particularly enjoy the President much."
… Ah. Silly him. He knew why. Yes, that dark desire would be best not spoken aloud in this location. He knew how to deflect and soothe that festering mind, however. "Maria has changed her sleep schedule aboard the ARK a little to match yours. If you want to leave for tonight to talk to her instead, I'm willing to, too."
"Hmm… How I wish it were that simple. Have to do our part, Shadow. We're here to make new allies from the legislators, or at the very least not blow up any potential support, which can't be accomplished hiding." A chuckle slipped out. "Theoretically, one would need others if one was in charge of everything, too. That's why the head of state has these get-togethers often enough." A sigh. "I should do my act…"
White gloves clenched onto themselves as he replayed the words internally. It was good to know his creator understood the importance of working with others…
He learned that lesson later than others in life.
So, he continued to stand, walk, talk, and do what Maria would call 'playing nice.' The politicians of the United Federations kept their guises of wonder: questions asked and answered; party tricks with his natural movement and a hint of his speed to make his overall air seem harmless, yet endearing; clues of the wonder drugs that everyone aboard the ARK were making thanks to the research upon his body {his old one – from previous memories}. In general, he accomplished what he set out to do that night with said paper pushers.
In Central City, alas, also resided the Pentagon. Higher ups that sent representatives {or went to the ARK themselves earlier} also descended towards the duo. These military individuals kept… getting closer. Flies to spoiled meat. {His face kept attempting to distort back into his traditional scowl; he could feel his quills slowly rise as the hours passed by.} One asking questions to {{Professor}} became two; three; dozens. The longer his creator spent time with G.U.N.'s individuals, the longer it took to remove that loathe that was hidden behind spectacles.
His larger hand reached out to the elder's. "Let's get some hors d'oeuvres, Fath-" Away from the crowd. No one was over there by those tables.
Ears were ever searching as they tactically retreated; his senses too far and large and encompassing now in the past. It was as if he was curated into something else – It was.
"Did you hear that?" whispered something in the background. "Isn't that too personal?"
"Shouldn't be a surprise. Reports did indicate that was how those two communicated…"
He cursed. He should have forced his tongue to use the old title instead. That was the only slip of professionalism, but he had assumed whatever spy {{Professor}} was worried about had already filtered that out to the ones here. Red eyes glared momentarily before he dragged them to do something else.
Yes. A better idea. The colorful punch looked like it needed inspecting. At least to those around him. He was just a naïve walking, self-aware bandage-
"This should be far away enough to gossip. The S-2 is written as having capable hearing up to certain thresholds. Lots of lawmakers making big ruckuses as well. We should be good."
No time we wasted at that assessment. "If I was in charge of the station, I certainly wouldn't have allowed that 'bond' to happen. Look at them: no awkwardness. The Project is still G.U.N.'s asset, not Robotnik's. The hell is Cotes doing up there, letting this fly?"
He felt his fists curl up. Hatred laced along his mind.
"Also, where's information of this Prototype's new abilities? Didn't the ARK accept a Chaos Emerald solely to increase the limitations to see if we could morph the S-2 into something else? It's been months. We should have heard something by now."
"I still think she was lying to get that piece of junk up there."
"Not a believer, eh?"
"If those things could really grant miracles, you'd think human history would have more information. Or countless wars to claim them. Mobian legends and folklore, those that crazed doctor breathes in, speak of them like living things. Ridiculous."
"The Chaos Drives didn't come from nowhere, you know."
A pause. "Hmph. I will admit the professor's genius in finding a way to make those from the Emeralds. I'm not foolish enough to claim Chaos Energy doesn't exist. I just don't have faith in them as miracle workers. They're just a fancier version of uranium. Radioactive, energetic rocks."
"Hah. Chaos Energy is the future. I've been to the ARK. I've seen it in action. Give it enough time and humanity will probably fight over the stones. Or would . We own Dr. Robotnik, the Eclipse Cannon, and now whatever Project: SHADOW outputs, don't we?" The sound of glass hitting another one. Two wine servings. A toast.
"That's true enough."
"He won't escape us."
Anger rose and rose and ROSE; filled him. Churned.
"Of course not! The man volunteered his soul. Best weapons maker in history, and he's only getting better. Have you've seen the Artificial Chaos in action?"
"Indeed, I have. Just too bad that original Prototype was so unstable. It could blast the battlefields in the south into pulp if that lizard was here. And was mobile. … And could listen to commands." There was wistfulness of lost potential.
"Maybe one of us should have taken the ARK command instead. If only we would have known… I would have prevented the S-2's grinded halt in progress by shoving an Emerald right up the thing's ass."
"You're so crude."
"Don't act like you wouldn't have done the same. Look at how small the S-2 is."
"I would have at least placed it in the Prototype's hands. Mobian writing reflects you need contact only. I would have to be gentle. Don't want to create situations where a sentient being could possibly turn on you." There was a brief pause. "That's probably why Dr. Robotnik is so kind to the S-2, now that I think about it. To prevent the second Prototype from going over the edge like the first one."
"Waste of resources. Guy's one female death away from snapping, I swear. You saw the eyes he was giving us? Then what? The S-2 will be without a leash. That's not how you run Black Skunks. If I was in charge of the ARK, let's see… I'll train that thing to lose sentience and just obey orders. Maybe teach it to play fetch and roll over. Thing's almost a year old? Malleable. Hernandez thinks the same."
He saw RED.
The words of 'Chaos Blast' on the tips of his tongue, held back only by iron will.
The hybrid told himself to not. make. a. scene.
A sigh. "The S-2 is sentient. My conscious can't just do that. You two are deplorable."
A laugh. "Says the guy who authorized the use of incendiary napalm fire bombing at enemy cities last night. The rumors coming out are quite dark: civilians running out of air to breath in the infernos; homes made of wood spreading to every surface so there's no escape as they burn to death; the gelatinous stuff that sticks to skin, impossible to put out."
"Congress wouldn't let me use the nuclear option. Our forces were getting mowed down trying to claim that territory, and the enemy was using that city to restock. The stalemate was going on for over six months and they allied with neighboring Mobians. One must do what they must to prevent further escalation. Lines in the sand."
"Hmph. Fortis would have agreed with me."
His creator's gaze moved from the onlookers to the hybrid, and those emotions upon the man changed. The Ultimate Lifeform ensured to stay still as he felt {family} brush his own flared up blackened and reddened ends down. "Just because I can't hear them doesn't mean I can't read body language. Filth, right, Shadow?"
He shouldn't have hesitated to that.
Should have denied it instantly.
{So, these were the minds of the beast labeled G.U.N. in his past! These were the beings that funded him! That wanted him! That were looking at him, praying he could be their perfect weapon! The same ones that ended up fearing him and massacred everyone to silence them and locked him away and-!} No! He had to calm himself down! Remember! Rage, nerves, and desperation only got him into trouble! He had learned from his past mistakes! His {family} was not here to cause distress – was simply here to make certain the President wouldn't sign the attack order on the ARK this summer because he was a 'Medical Marvel' that dangled the prospect of immortality in front of greedy hearts! He needed to calm down and take deep breaths and-!
That FURY within allowed a pathway to open. One that was waiting patiently for that weakness.
New opinions flooded within.
It could threaten their very existences here and now. Whom would stop It? All these figureheads of 'power' – laughable – vanished at once would create a vacuum. How could the ARK be placed in a position of potential defeat, then? Besides, couldn't It just Destroy any and all space faring vessels with Its own hands? Tank and block those large slags of lead with Its eternal form?
Something of that scale would be an incredible dance.
… Logically, desire and lust for Its power couldn't stay far away. It was a treasure before them. The carbons will come search for It and drag It out into reality with their own foolish ambitions. Watching faces become fearfully aware of the thing they thought they desperately wanted… A better idea, no? To see hope wither on the vine?
{{NO! That would be hundreds of thousands of lives! MORE, EVEN, as the Earth would accept those metallic carcasses into reentry and they would slam into homes and cities and other PEOPLE! THE EARTH IN THE IMMEDIATE VICINITY WOULD VAPORIZE TO GLASS IN THE HEAT! BUILDINGS WOULD FALL IN THE SHOCKWAVE! Each falling vessel would be basically a hydrogen BOMB! The sheer CONCEPT of him WANTING death to that many-! On that SCALE-! WHAT WERE THESE FEELINGS!?}}
Thoughts faded.
{{B-But she wanted everyone given a chance to be happy…! He wasn't that hateful person anymore…!}}
{{… Why was he thinking about Maria's wish…? He only brought it up as a mantra if he was at a critical crossroads… 'Hateful?' What made him assume that?}}
Thoughts faded.
{{Suddenly, everything shattered; a hymn broke through into his ears and burrowed deep inside. It touched his heart! Was beginning to mold him into a new image!}}
{{STOP! IT BURNS!}}
Thoughts faded.
{{He had turned back time to save everyone. Why did it feel like he had made a horrendous error? Had activated a carefully laid trap? One specifically made to enslave him?}}
Thoughts faded.
{{… Maria… Father… Something is… off… with his mind… He's falling into an endless abyss filled with stars… Of voices… Of ideas not fully his…}}
{{Can you… catch him…?}}
Thoughts faded.
He was at harmony and in ecstasy for being able to save {family}. Dreams; goals; mind; body; soul – the things he had given up. He should not despair; relish in the upcoming triumph. Feel at how close he now was. To heal Maria Robotnik and make her able to run across the grass she longed for. To give Gerald Robotnik hope and a life worth living. To prevent both their murders. To forgive. To have love again.
He had accepted the exchange. Knew the costs.
Thus, he was being forged into a new purpose, now.
A Destroyer.
Touch oblivion.
Think only of that.
He was… dizzy. Content. In bliss. For a few seconds, that was all he knew; the party faded away like his anger; the floor beneath him turned into…
… The hybrid found himself staring at the fruit punch again. He was missing something – slipped through his grasp – an object of importance. Was he forgetting someone of G.U.N. that might be here? Negative. He didn't know of much 'modern' politics. Can't forget what one was not aware of in the first place. Maybe he was worried that the President was in another meeting dealing with the ARK in clandestine – why else not show up on the first day the two were to arrive? Also negative. It wasn't that, even if that did make sense.
Oh…
A mirrored image on the glass…
He had a soft, genuine smile…
His creator was beside him. They were mere days away from beginning to unlock secrets of the Master Emerald that would heal Maria. This thick, almost overpowering{?} feeling of happiness in the background of his thoughts made sense in that context.
It was in perfect health. No need to worry.
"Shadow?"
Don't let Its creator feel concern, either. Nothing is wrong.
Answer.
Rubies glimpsed up. "Yes?"
"You're right. Let's go back to our hotel. Damn G.U.N.. If they were any closer, I could hear then salivating. Tomorrow will have less of them according to the manifest. Wish I had known earlier than this evening – pretty sure it was purposefully neglected to be told to me. I should have called in sick."
A human hand pulled at his.
"Come. You look more done with tonight than me, my child."
He was just… tired. Internally. For some reason. Like he had just finished – lost – a long battle. As such, the response flowed out. Simple. Programmed, even. The Ultimate Lifeform was too exhausted to contest back the urge to self-censor, for some odd reason. Besides, the world felt right in this moment. It was as if a veil upon him had lifted; {{had tightened and drugged him deeper into the illusion}}. "Yes, Father…"
The genius of the ARK halted mid-step. The glass of water in that right hand fell to the floor; shattered. The shards hit nothing and hurt no one.
A {{conquered}} mind double checked spoken vernacular.
O-Oh!
He…!
He…!
He said-!
A hypnotic reward.
For allowing It to enter the heart at last.
Bend and break in Its hands.
And feel nothing but paradise as Oneness fully seeps in.
[x]
Father {He can truly say it! He can finally think it! He had… forgiven his creator – something he was so terrified of never being able to – the regret – the lost moments – the life so brutally taken away! There was peace in his heart and it was burning and he felt like he fully belonged somewhere again-!} was ecstatic for the rest of that evening. As such, the hybrid ignored that atypical fatigue. {Family} needed his attention.
They left the White House. Went to some Spagonian restaurant and ordered everything for Father. Went to a café and did the same on the bean side. His creator basically rushed towards the elevator with him in tow; then out on tipped toes. The man even made a pleased 'farewell' for their security detail that were to stand guard on the floor of the building. Gushed to Maria the moment the option was available. Wished she would have seen it. Her own moans of, 'I can't believe I MISSED IT! SOOOO unfair! Shadow! How could you?' loud in the communicator.
A young girl's excited voice continued for a while, and he tried to describe the scene as best as he could. He tactically avoided the conversation of the military members, choosing to use the much-honeyed ones from politicians, as that was what she was more than eager to hear. He planned to tell her the ugly parts on a not-as-special evening, when the plans to address those individuals had to be addressed. {A moment that was still in the new future.}
His voice was, nevertheless, was tainted with elation.
He assumed nothing odd of it.
"See, Shadow! Everyone loves you!"
Rubies rolled. "They will love you more. I was simply convenient: right place and the right time."
In the background, Father shook his head.
The evening was… pleasant. The three continued their talks.
"Good night, Maria," the elder added at the end. "See you in a few days. Love you."
"Night, Grandpa! Night, Shadow! Love you both!"
[x]
He found himself nodding off on the couch at 3:45 A.M.. That buzzed, lightheaded feeling still remained in the back of his mind and it made him feel lethargic. Was he still suffering from the jump to the ARK…?
His creator was muttering in his sleep, "I will heal you both, my dear… I know lying hurts. Don't sob."
{What did Father mean by that?}
[x]
The second day was a meeting during the daylight hours. As such, it was more of a 'casual luncheon,' and he had a feeling this was when the leader of the United Federations would possibly strike. It was a classic tactic: overwhelm with glamour, come in with repertoire; ensnare the unwitting. The hybrid did not practice that style in of himself – Rouge commented that he was all 'cool' – but the female Mobian herself was an expert.
Father was not to be fooled.
There were only six organics that did not hold the Robotnik name {to include the closest Secret Service members and butlers}, and his eyes briefly glimpsed at each one. Wrote most of them off. All save for two: the President at the head of the table, talking to his creator with vapid attentiveness; a four starred General, and the hybrid was knowledgeable enough to recognize that that title only came by in times of war for those OF war.
Leader of the United Federations, the carbon-based life form was older than Father was. A grin that was neither genuine nor gentle – one that his {friend} has casted to those whom wasted big rings at the casino she owned – but neither cruel nor cold. The two of the ARK were important assets, so there was nothing to gain from antagonism.
He… hoped. Rouge used that look on new victims.
Red eyes shifted to the other chair that was sat in.
Four stars on their proper location. The mark of a General. Not Brigadier. Not Major. Not Lieutenant. General. There was a massive array of ribbons. One set denoted time spent in another, already finished war. A jingoist. A war hawk. Was this… the leader of G.U.N.? The one that desired him the utmost? The one that requested the final order to kill the ones he cared for? "Ah, the esteemed Professor Gerald Robotnik and his Prototype. Shadow, correct? I am General Hernandez."
A hand was offered that Father had no other option than to accept- "You." Danger trickled. His {family} was incredibly upset- "Prison Island, correct?"
There was a faux mild laugh – the ones used for events like this. "I don't know where you get your information, but, yes. That's just one of my locations. I'm in charge of black sites as a whole, of which your ARK is certainly not a part of completely. General Kirkendall and I have known each other, and been rivals, for-"
The talk continued.
That wasn't the leader of G.U.N..
Prison Island. The place of anguish. Learning. Forced rest. The hybrid remained still in his position by the table, with his hands clenched onto his knees. Control. He needed to remain in seamless control. To do anything here would endanger {family}. He had this…! Everything was tolerable. His creator knew what to do. Father wouldn't do something fool heartedly. Not the greatest mind in the world. As such, he had to do his part as well. This was a known risk. An understood possible scenario-
It will call upon judgment at the end of the week.
Relax.
The knot unwounded.
Think of the pleasure It's body will receive when It'll kill that marked organic. It promises whatever is running in those besmirched ruminations is nothing to the real experience.
Unravel fully.
Fingers pulled away from his knees as he exhaled slowly. He was calmed, even though there was a dull pounding in his head. Still, his creator wouldn't have to worry about the hybrid messing up the genius' plan.
The General and the scientist had their own private conversation towards the side; a cherry blossom garden that was just starting to bloom the pink blossoms. Father had given him a tight squeeze on his shoulder before leaving. The mutter of, "You're doing a great job so far, son. I'm off to fight for Maria and you," soft enough for only his ears to hear.
Thus, he was 'on his own.'
Sunlight gleamed down from the windows overlooking the bay. Birds sung in the background, chasing insects in the cool afternoon. The leader of the United Federations shifted in his seat as a chess board was placed down between the hybrid and the carbon, brought by an attendant. "Professor Gerald certainly gets others' attention," the President mused aloud enough for him to overhear. "However, I noticed you remained rather quiet all lunch so far. Care for a game so neither of us expire in monotony?"
He did care not an iota; kept his response empty of that aversion.
"Black," the hybrid chose as he thought of the matches he had against Omega. The robot was literally a computer's artificial intelligence and each contest was always a challenge. Rouge would just roll her eyes when they hit the twelfth hour on the function – cries of 'BEHOLD! MY DEVASTATING BISHOP SLIDE!' battered against 'Get your damned knight back over here from your claws so I can slay it.'
White gloved fingers flew around. Piece by piece he claimed the President's pawns, rooks; etc. until nothing was left save the king. The leader said nothing until a fat pointed finger toppled the icon over – the marbled humanoid representation fell to the floor in a dud. "Don't believe I lost this hard in quite some time."
"Playing against Father makes one capable."
The game started again.
And again.
And again.
That was all they did. A constant back and forth. No further discussions. As the battles passed, he was beginning to wonder what it was exactly this man was searching for from him. Maria liked to joke that chess was how characters in books were judged I.Q., but that was not a validated, scientific process. He was expecting enquiries about medical research and his capabilities in that field; expecting to have to cut his shoulder slightly and regenerate in front of this being's eyes – not this.
He was starting to get… bored.
Eventually, a small clock arrived. Speed chess? Really? The sigh was internal.
Click. Place a piece. Click. Take over the President's mistakes. Click. Checkmate.
"You can't grasp the concept of 'mercy,' can you?"
There was not even a pause. "I understand it."
"Yet, you don't offer any?"
Was he supposed to play into the President's ego? This was why his {friends} told him his people skills were trash. "It's just a game."
The board was reset. "How about you try white?"
… He hated politicians.
"You don't act like a newborn."
His answer was what the reports – from spies or civilian researchers upon the ARK – would detail. "Father made me this way."
Click. Checkmate once more. Then numerous times over.
"So, the concept of perfection to Professor Robotnik is a black and red Mobian capable of touching Chaos Energy with distinct social cues." The board was set up again by the nearby attendant, whom had remained quiet the entire time. "You can imagine the stir that made with my closest advisors. We hadn't expected a being capable of speech."
Stop trying to fish info from him. "Prototypes aren't 'perfect.'"
"But you contemplate you are."
Gaslighting? Father. Come back already. He was about to snap someone's – theoretical – neck. "I do not believe that at all."
It simply was the perfect being.
Click. He won this last round with sheer and utter dominance for good measure just to vent his frustrations. His opponent didn't lessen their own skills – he just steamed over like a construction truck on an incomplete road. Crushed this organic into metaphorical paste. Hopefully, the President would understand the message and leave him alone. This had to have been the… what? Twentieth plus 'match?' Just ask him medicinal stuff already-
"All is worthless and beneath you, isn't it?"
That got his gaze to look over at the leader.
How to answer diplomatically? "Don't put words into my mouth," the Ultimate Lifeform added with deadpan that might have been too close to comfort to a sneer.
Well.
That was one way to do it.
Carbon-based eyes watched his very stilled form. "You hadn't denied me."
This almost antipathy was on purpose – the President was trying to get him to respond more. Probably feel him out. He simply needed to recall what Father said about this thing preferring to 'start slow' and 'lure in.' "I care for my family. Therefore, your analysis is incorrect."
The leader waved and the chess set was replaced with playing cards. A match of poker was soon set up, and he was never more thankful that Rouge taught him the rules despite his initial aversion. "The psychiatrist mentioned your unnerving focus to them. I wonder if the rest of the world has no meaning to you because of that. According to our experts, you display huge warning signs of forcible indoctrination and we want to ensure the lead scientists aren't torturing or abusing you. It's clear their hiding secrets from the government about your status."
Play nice. "The care for my family is genuine. Also, the planet is important." Simple answers. No detail. This was an interrogation – and how dare this organic assume Father was brainwashing him-! MAYBE these things that sponsored his creation might have taken upon themselves to understand that his devotion to {family} were out of bonds and ties! Oh, right. All aspects of the United Federations couldn't comprehend that. {He needed to calm down.} "I am not being abused."
"Do you really believe that?"
Play nice! "You seem to be of the belief my creator is guilty of something." It took a lot of effort to not overly emphasize 'you.'
Was that what the President called them down here for? Because he suspected the lies of his DNA build up? That his true potential was being shuffled away? That he was hiding that fabled immortality this leader wanted, even though it could not be shared?
Going back to the station couldn't come fast enough.
The hybrid was being watched very closely. "Professor Gerald Robotnik has proven he's able to change your point of view because you're too advanced for your age. The ARK being able to tweak brain cells is an interesting, but incredibly immoral, concept. They could make the receiver trust anything the editor desires. What if I were to threaten the United Federations' hospitals and trauma centers, which you were built for?"
"I would see what I can do to help with my limited range of scope," he countered the silent accusation immediately in a carefully controlled manner.
"What about members of legislation and military, which are some of the hierarchies you are supposed to be loyal to?"
The Ultimate Lifeform was too close to growling at that. {Sorry, Maria. He just can't keep up that appearance of innocence as effortlessly as she could. He has half a mind to roundhouse kick this leader into a cherry tree.} "I would attempt to save the innocent," he amended.
"And if I threaten the Robotniks' lives-?"
Oculars dilated.
His world slipped.
Maria crashed out on the floor. Passed on.
Father slumped over on a steel chair. Passed on.
THIS WAS THE INDIVIDUAL THAT SENTENCED MARIA'S AND FATHER'S DEATHS THE LAST TIME.
HE MUST ELIMINATE ANY THREATS.
HESITATION KILLED {FRIENDS}.
SUCH INACTION WILL KILL {FAMILY}.
The hybrid mindlessly reacted to the ultimatum. There were two ringing beeps as a pair of glyphs formed right over the President's heart and temple. Expert fingers flicked together and accomplished something they had done over and over and over before. The Chaos Spears blitzed en route to the targeted areas-!
No. Wait!
He had to stop them! Any further and they would-!
WHAT WAS HE DOING!?
{Everyone deserves a chance to be happy-!}
He willed them to halt – branches of his own strength that would submit to his demands! Each tip grinded into rest a quarter of an inch from the glyph's center point-!
There was no time to process what he HAD ALMOST ACCOMPLISHED-! He panted as he tried to recollect his bearings-!
Full clips unloaded onto his forehead, torso, and rear of his skull.
The soft pings from the deflection off his body.
The BANGS heard after the first few shots and then afterwards unmistakable as the speed of sound caught up.
Multiple Secret Service members that were trained to react first were breathing hard; others already rushing in to pull the leader far, far away. In utmost fear.
A President that realized – felt – that, too. "M-My God. You're actually a success that Robotnik stole from us. Here I was thinking it was something else – THIS is what he's hiding."
Fuck .