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NullenVoidWriting
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Hop To It - Eclipse 1

Three Months after Perfect Chaos

Central City.

Titan of commerce and art. A skyline of steel and glass. Capital of the United Federation.

Home sweet home.

My parents moved to Central City after their wedding, one of hundreds of young Mobian couples seeking to make a new life for themselves closer to the heart of civilization, away from the wilderness our people had long been associated with. Eking out a life in harmony with the land was all well and good, and worthy of respect, but times were changing and thirty years ago there was a push among Mobians to not be left behind.

So it was that Central City and a few other of the Federation’s cities gained small but sizable Mobian populations almost overnight.

And, of course, so it was that I and many others were born here in the city. We grew up, went to school alongside humans, grew up, traded culture back and forth, grew up, and eventually in turn we set out to make our own way in the world. And now I was back.

It might be insane to say this, being in my early 20s, but being in my parent’s house again made me feel young again.

“Hayden! Set the plates for breakfast!”

“Yes, Mom.”

“And keep your elbows off the table.”

I sighed, smiling, and obliged. “I know I said this already, but thanks for putting up with us these past few weeks.” I stood and grabbed the plates from the cabinet.

My mother, Angora the Rabbit, turned and beamed. “Don’t you even worry about it, you know we’re happy to have you.” She looked up and glanced at the clock. “I better go get your little munchkin up,” she murmured, walking away from the stove. “That girl shouldn’t be missing breakfast, she’s too thin already, a growing girl like her needs to eat…”

Mom walked out of the kitchen, still talking to herself, leaving the pancake in the pan to sizzle. I shook my head and took over the cooking, flipping them over before they could burn.

My ears twitched, and I looked over as my dad walked in, already in his postman’s uniform and with the newspaper tucked under his arm. “Morning.”

“Mm.” Dad sat down and pulled out the paper to read. “Smells good.”

“I think they’re strawberry,” I said, sniffing.

“Nice.”

We sat in comfortable silence, me tending to food while he read. Distantly, I could hear Mom trying to get Humi out of my bed--I’d been sleeping on the couch these past two weeks--and from the way Dad’s ears were fidgeting he was listening too.

“So, son.” Dad turned the page. “What have you been thinking about, for a job?”

“Not sure yet,” I admitted. “I could probably go back to retail, once Tory gets her store fixed up, but after all that…”

Three months ago, I was involved in a major event that destroyed Station Square, my home of two years, and involved water gods, mad scientists, magic rocks and self-actualizing robots. It completely shook things up, for me and thousands of other people, and I was still figuring out what to do next with my life.

Dad’s point of view was simpler than mine. “After all that what?” He closed the paper and set it down on the table. “A disaster doesn’t stop the world spinning, son. People still need to buy groceries. They still need to get their mail.”

I grimaced. “I know.”

Dad stared at me. After a moment he sighed and took his glasses off to wipe them. “You know, ol’ Bernie at the post office retired last month and we still haven’t replaced them. I could get you a job there easy. Good pay, good benefits, all that.”

I considered it briefly, but… “I don’t think I could pull Humi from her hideaway. Especially not when the whole reason we’re here is so the place can be renovated.”

“Fair enough,” he said. And that was that, from him.

As if on cue, Mom walked in carrying a sleepy-eyed Humi. The little mouse perked up once the smell of the food hit her, and by the time she was placed into a chair she was bright-eyed and ready to eat.

“Oh!” Mom gave herself a light slap. “Thank you, Hayden, I forgot about the pancakes!”

“It’s no problem.” I stepped aside to let her take over again and took my seat next to Humi, giving her a quick hug. “Morning, packrat. Nice pajamas.”

My parents loved Humi. Neither of them had actually said the word ‘grandchild’ yet, but I could see it in their eyes when they looked at her. Mom had taken one look at Humi’s preferred pocket-strewn patchwork of a dress and immediately bought her a new set of clothes despite her protests. This did not prevent Humi from wearing her dress, but since it made Mom happy to see her wearing them, she acquiesced.

Last night’s pajamas were bright blue, pinstriped, and covered in pictures of cartoon cheese.

She puffed her cheeks out, but after a glance at my mom she just said, “They’re very comfy.”

“Ha! I’m kidding with you, they’re adorable.” I poked her until she slapped my hand away, leaving my dad chuckling.

The door to the garage opened, and me and Dad turned to the door a second before Iota stepped in from the hall.

“Greeting: Good morning, Fiver family.” He scanned the room as Mom started fixing plates. “It looks delicious, Madam Angora. I wish I could eat.”

“Aw, aren’t you sweet.” Mom reached up to pinch the side of Iota’s hood. She’d decided that Iota was also some manner of child, and I didn’t think it was worth arguing the point. “Here, dear, I got you a treat.”

She handed Iota a four-pack of AA batteries. Iota took it, confusion radiating off of him, and ultimately tucked it behind his access panel. “Thank you. I will… save it for later. I am fully charged right now.”

“Of course, dear.” Mom took her own seat and immediately grabbed a pair of pancakes for herself. “Cook gets first dibs!”

“W--Hey!” Humi laughed and tried to get her own, only to discover she couldn’t actually reach the plate in the center of the table. She tried to stand in her chair to reach, only to catch a stern look from Mom. So she turned her puppy-dog eyes on me instead.

I sighed good-naturedly and got three flapjacks for her before getting some for myself. And then Dad just grabbed the entire rest of the plate.

“So,” Mom asked, peppering her eggs. “What’s the plan for everyone today?”

“Work.”

“Yes, Devon, I know what your plan is.”

Dad shrugged, hiding his smirk behind a coffee mug. “You asked.”

Rolling her eyes, she looked at me instead. “What about you? Seems to me you three have been lounging around the house for weeks.”

“We went to the library,” I pointed out, because we had. It had been a fruitful visit, too. Central City Public Library was associated with the local university, and had way more resources than Station Square’s. I even ran into a friendly student teacher who recommended some resources for teaching reading. Nothing about rings, but I was expecting that.

“The library.” Mom scoffed. “That’s all well and good, but that’s barely better than staying home.” She clapped. “You should take Humi and Iota on a tour!”

I raised an eyebrow. “A tour?” I asked flatly. Then I considered it. “Hm.”

Humi raised her hand. “Is there a junkyard we can visit?”

“Absolutely not,” Mom said sternly. “But there’s an arcade across the street from the hairdresser I’ve been modeling for.”

“You’re modeling again?”

“I have to do something with my day now that you’re gone,” she said dismissively. “Anyway. There’s the arcade, the hobby shop, the skate park--”

“The aquarium lets kids in for free on weekends,” Dad contributed, and I groaned because I didn’t need to look at Iota to know he was staring at me now.

“I think skating is cool,” Humi said, smiling. “I want an Extreme Gear!”

Me and my parents all frowned at that, and Humi wilted.

“Let’s start with skates and go from there,” Dad suggested. He checked his watch. “I can’t stay any longer. Have a good day, whatever you decide to do.”

He dropped his remaining pancakes on Humi’s plate and gave her a pat on the head.

“I’m not sure how we’d be getting around,” I said. “Dad’s got the car.”

“We can ride on Iota!”

“I am not street legal.”

“Relax, son.” Dad smiled at us. “I carpool these days, so you’ll have the truck.”

I considered that. “...You know, seeing Iota riding in the bed of the truck would probably be less frightening than seeing him walking around…”

“I endeavor to not be frightening at all times.”

“I know you do.” I stood and took both my and Dad’s plates to the sink. “Alright, I’m convinced. What about you, Mom?”

“Oh, I’m heading to Charlotte and Wilbur’s.” She grinned and struck a pose. “Charlotte wants me to test out this new shampoo she’s made for her boutique.”

I tilted my head. “I thought Miss Charlotte made clothes.”

“It’s Mrs. now, she and Wilbur got married last year. And she still does, but her business is doing well so she wants to expand.”

“Huh.” I took a moment to absorb that, then nodded. “Well, alright then. Humi, Iota, no time like the present.” I winced. “I think we’re going to the bank before anything else. I just want to check my balance before we go too crazy, you understand.”

“Speaking of that,” Mom said. “Have you given much thought to finding a new job?”

“Me and Dad already discussed this okay guys let’s go,” I said quickly, picking Humi up and pushing Iota out.

“Hey, I wasn’t done!” Humi struggled half-heartedly.

“Only that I think you could do well as a male model if you gave it a chance,” Mom continued, grinning mischievously.

Humi froze, staring at her. Then she looked at me. “...Nevermind, I’m not hungry anymore.”

“Now wait just a minute,” I said, a little insulted.

Mom cackled.

----------------------------------------

[??????]

Meanwhile

Cold.

Awareness came slowly and fitfully. As though disparate pieces were being slotted into place. Like a puzzle, where familiar and recognizable pictures lurked on the edges, but only once the image was complete did it all make sense.

Chaos.

Something… called to him. He knew what it was. He had never felt this before. But he knew what it was. It resonated.

Cold. Familiar.

A presence approached. No, two. One felt… like him, but degraded. Like a copy of a copy of a copy. Like a picture from a printer out of ink. It was the correct shape (how did he know that? His eyes were not open) but the wrong material. A robot.

The other presence pulled him to awareness faster, and he believed that he would have jerked awake if his body was at all responsive. It felt almost like the Professor, but not the one he knew. It felt more like the Professor had, in those final days, after--

In those final days, after…

He believed that he was dreaming. He was definitely not awake, not fully. He suspected that his brain had little to do with what was going on, right now.

Cold. Chaos. Voices.

The Chaos called to him. It was what had stirred him. The one who was not the Professor carried it.

“So this is the military’s ‘top secret weapon?’ It’s a lot smaller than I expected.”

Weapon. Yes. That is what he was. That is all he was ever meant to be. But he was not the military’s.

Beep.

“Shut up, you nincombot! It’s your fault there were so many guard droids here! If you hadn’t decided to rob a G.U.N. facility--let alone the one we’d need to break into later!--then I wouldn’t even need you here! Now be quiet and guard the door while I work my brilliance.”

He certainly sounded like the Professor.

“Enter user data, aha… enter password…”

He felt his mood drop. He knew what the password was.

“...Maria… Feh. Too easy, Grandfather. Hardly a secure password at all. Now all I have to do is place the Chaos Emerald into this console. See, Mecha, you could have just stolen it now and made no difference. Useless machine.”

He waited. And then power surged through him, and he became more. Awareness became wakefulness.

It wasn’t like waking up from a long slumber. It was more like… warming up after being trapped in the freezer. Cold became heat. Stillness became motion. His heart began to beat again and breath began to fill his lungs.

The first breath was painfully cold.

As his physical body began to spark to life, the past few minutes became blurry as his brain took over from whatever part of him had been doing the thinking up to now. But not gone, because when he stood from the cryopod as it hissed open, and saw someone who was decidedly not Professor Gerald and a robot that was doing a pathetic impersonation of himself, he already knew what was happening.

It was happening. At long last.

The man who was not Gerald had for some reason jumped into the pit his pod was kept in, while his pod had risen to floor level. He looked down on the man with a schooled expression.

The man, for his part, stood slack-jawed in his curious walking vehicle. “W-What’s that? Is that you, Sonic?” The man growled. “Are you trying to spoil my plans again?!”

“Hmph.” His expression shifted to scorn.

“...Wait a minute. You’re not Sonic! This is impossible!”

He sneered. “My name is Shadow. Since you were so kind to release me, my master…” The words were said in sarcasm, but they disgusted him all the same. “...I will grant you one wish.”

Memories of old movies and storybooks flitted across the surface of his mind, but Shadow tamped them down. There was no time for that. Because an alarm began to blare.

Naughty naughty, whoever you are, he thought with the barest hint of amusement. I’d almost think you weren’t meant to be here.

“Now what?!” The man had his walker jump out of the pit, to be of a level with Shadow. “Mecha, you scrapheap! I told you to guard the door!”

The pitiful copy made a plaintive noise, but Shadow paid it no mind whatsoever.

Here were the facts as Shadow understood them. This man was almost certainly related to Gerald and--to Gerald. If he knew to find Shadow at all, he must have information that Gerald left behind. This man was therefore the best option for completing Shadow’s goals. This man was currently biting off more than he could chew.

The path forward was clear. “Behold, the true power I possess.” Shadow gripped the power that coursed through him and funneled it towards his feet. The energy ignited rockets in his air shoes, giving him brief flight. He took off from his perch, somersaulted in the air, and crashed through the console controlling his prison, ripping the violet emerald out of the machine as he did.

Caring not for the robot imitation, he charged past it into an open area beyond this cryo storage chamber.

The source of the alarm was obvious; one of G.U.N.’s walker mechs, larger and more heavily armed than Gerald’s relative.

It wouldn’t stand a chance.

The pilot inside attempted to bark something at him, but Shadow didn’t bother even to register the command. He slammed himself into the machine, digging his quills into the metal and leaving a noticeable dent. He could see the pilot’s eyes widened behind the glass, and Shadow jumped away as the walker’s taser field activated. An effective defense… briefly. But he remembered these machines. Gerald helped design them. This current model was a later edition, but the design hadn’t drifted much. The taser field consumed all of the mech’s active power, preventing weapons fire, and trying to keep it up for more than a couple seconds drained the power quickly.

It was only a matter of timing, and this fool’s weapons couldn’t touch him.

Shadow looked over his shoulder a half-second before that… Mecha robot flew in. It blared an angry electronic sound through its speakers and fired its own missiles at the mech. The G.U.N. weapon shot most of them down and took the rest with only a few minor dents.

The impostor robot lacked any kind of visible expression, but Shadow still picked up a sense of bewilderment just before the walker shot it down.

“Pitiful. And you think you can walk around looking even that much like me when you can’t even defeat this weakling?” Insulting. Unacceptable. Shadow scoffed and turned away from the impostor to give the G.U.N. mech his full attention. “Watch and learn.”

Through the glass, the pilot looked like he regretted the series of actions that led him here.

Good.

He should.

----------------------

It was over in less than two minutes. It was hardly what Shadow would call a battle. It was more accurate to call it a… slaughter, yes.

And yet it was enough to impress his audience.

“Destroying that guard robot was spectacular!” the doctor declared, offering a brief applause. “So, Shadow… you are the military’s top secret weapon?”

Shadow kept his back turned, lest the doctor see his sneer.

“But what did you mean when you said you’d grant me a wish?”

What indeed. “Bring more Chaos Emeralds,” Shadow said in lieu of answering. He began walking off.

“Shadow, wait!”

No, he would not. He had a mission, and it had been waiting for long enough already. “I’ll be waiting for you in the central control room… on the space colony, ARK.”

“ARK?” The doctor leaned onto his dashboard. “Shadow, answer me!”

Shadow did not answer him. He spared a single glance for the impostor robot, who was lying in a broken heap and staring at him. Then he began running, and soon it was all behind him. Metal halls became open sky became open waters, and he glided across all of them with equal ease.

The ocean… the sky… the clouds… if only--

No. He wouldn’t get distracted. The doctor would be looking for Emeralds, but Shadow would not be sitting idly by either. With one already tucked into his quills, he focused on the feeling it gave off. Two signatures were behind him, back on the island he just left. The doctor could grab those. Another was calling him from… northeast.

Soon, land appeared on the horizon.

He had a mission to complete.

He wouldn’t fail her again.

Comments

Mecha: But I am not even your copy!

Whiteeyes1989


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