It says the boys are at the right there in the title
A World Of Rotten Eggs (Eggman SI/The Boys)
- Thread starter DesertChocolate
- Start date
-
- Tags
- the boys self insert
- Location
- Puerto Rico
Good chapter.
Question @DesertChocolate , since your SI needs PR to jump start his robot sales, has it occurred to him to make a life size, functional with your tech; R2D2?
If Disney approves of it, your SI would have sales and PR by an established fan base by a large margin.
Question @DesertChocolate , since your SI needs PR to jump start his robot sales, has it occurred to him to make a life size, functional with your tech; R2D2?
If Disney approves of it, your SI would have sales and PR by an established fan base by a large margin.
5: A Bit Violent
Chapter 5
About a week after her 'birth', Mechelle was speaking with Destiny Simmons, one of the lawyers that had been helping me for a long while.
They were in my office as I walked in, laughing. I walked over with a tray of coffee for them.
I'd been doing stuff like that a little. Small acts of generosity I didn't need to do. The last thing I wanted was to let the Eggman memories change me entirely. So anytime a thought like 'they might want coffee' hit me, I went out of my way to fulfill it.
Which was probably inherently selfish, only doing good things to hold onto my former self as I changed into someone else. But it was the best I had.
Julian Ivo was just as smart as Robotnik. But he wouldn't make his mistakes. I had the memories of a more humble man, and a Robotnik who had been fighting against Sonic and his friends for decades. I needed to hold onto that.
So yeah, I gave the ladies coffee.
"Julian, how could you have hidden Mechelle from me for so long?" Destiny asked me as I handed her a latte. She was chuckling a bit as she spoke. "She's an absolute delight."
"Oh, you know my cousin, he's such a secretive type," Mechelle said brightly. "But really, I think he just wanted to make sure he had his business in full swing. He was like that when we were kids. Never showed off an experiment unless he knew it was working. Though it still blew up in my face a time or two."
"It was a volcano, it was supposed to blow up," I grumbled.
"I can't imagine you as a kid," Destiny said, watching as I sat. "You act like such an old man sometimes."
"Oh, believe me, I can be quite childish," I chuckled. "It's why my business is starting off with the PC gaming industry. That said…"
Destiny's smile faded, and she nodded seriously. "Yes. Well, I've had word with some of our contacts in the military, and they are still agreeing to come tomorrow as you requested, especially after meeting Mechelle."
The last was said with a wide smile at my 'cousin', who looked pleased.
Mechelle had been hard at work since her creation. I had given her just as much authority as Colin had, but in a different direction. He was my Chief Operating Officer and Chief Technology Officer (COO and CTO), and Mechelle was my Chief Financial Officer and Chief Marketing Officer (CFO and CMO) both loaded with a few degrees from relevant colleges. I was President of IvoTech.
Mechelle, in her new role, hired a large cast of people under her, focusing on marketing our products to the public. She also spoke directly to the military types we were prepping to sell to.
"We'll be ready, Destiny," Mechelle said confidently. "I'm sure Julian's creations will blow them out of the water."
"I have no doubt about that," Destiny said, looking over at me. "Just be ready to have the men who come try anything and everything to make you look bad. I tried my best, but one or two of the generals very explicitly 'do not have financial ties to certain weapons manufacturers who supply them hookers.'"
"Always nice to know you can trust governments to be as corrupt as possible," I snarked. "Still, I have no problems with dealing with morons. My technology will stand for itself. I guarantee you that it will be a hell of a show."
------
The next day, I stood outside on our training range with Mechelle and Colin. Formerly a track to test cars on, it currently had a series of targets down range from us made of gelatin, as well as two pig carcasses hanging on ropes. There were also some large pieces of armor plating and brick walls. Next to us was a table holding a variety of objects. Aside from this there were also a few "random" items scattered about the remaining road track.
The three of us stood watching a group of generals and a small security unit of soldiers walk up with Destiny Simmons at the head of them. Four older looking men, wearing their formal uniforms, representing the Army, Navy, Air Force, and Marines, leading a group of very tough and young looking men and women carrying guns. I looked over at Colin.
"You ready for your part?"
"Yeeees," Colin said with some relish, a wide smile stretching his face. He walked off at a quick pace, entering a large warehouse recently built on our training range.
"Well, he doesn't lack for eagerness," I mused to myself, watching him disappear into the large warehouse before turning to Mechelle. "How about you?"
"I am ready to serve as needed," she said, her eyes never leaving me. Same as always.
God. That weird subservience of hers. I'd added a strong sense of loyalty to her programming, but not unless it was deserved, and not to this level of… It was unnerving and worrying. I wanted her to be her own person.
Then everyone got close enough. Mechelle transformed in an instant. Her eyes came alight. Her stance loosened up, becoming more open and inviting. She smiled with her whole face, highlighting the beauty I had given her, while still having just enough imperfections to keep her from being 'uncanny valley'.
I hid my thoughts as best as I could. I'd made Colin and Mechelle. So why did they confuse me so much sometimes?
"Gentlemen," Destiny said as she joined us. "Dr. Julian Ivo, the President of IvoTech, and Mechelle Ivo, his CFO. This is General Nathan Bradley, US Army, Lieutenant William Renquist, Air Force-"
I let the names roll past, listening closely and filing them one by one until Destiny finished, then holding out my hand for them. "Pleasure to meet you all."
"I'm sure it is," General Bradley said with some skepticism. "You're the one with all the fancy tech."
I could see that he and his fellow hard bitten soldier types weren't exactly on board with what I was selling. I couldn't blame them. I was promising a lot for a VERY good price. And they hadn't seen more than some basic mock-ups.
"I am indeed," I told him, not minding the look on their faces.
"And I'm the one who keeps him afloat," Mechelle said with a smile, walking up to shake his hand as well. "It's good to meet you, sir. I hope we'll be able to show how much we can help our boys get home safe."
Bradley looked at Mechelle. I guess he was trying to find some sort of lie in her eyes, checking if she was a snake-oil salesman. Instead, he seemed to warm. Like a grandfather meeting a treasured grandchild.
"Well uh… we'll see, all right?"
Mechelle looked like she'd been promised a pony, and Bradley smiled just a bit.
"Mechelle is quite right," I told the group of soldiers. "I know what you're thinking. 'He's just an idiot scientist here to talk to us about expensive science pipe dreams'. I'd like to say I'm different from everyone who has come to you with these sorts of promises, but that's a waste of air. So how about I let you grab a gun and practice with it?"
I turned and pointed at the weapons behind me. "These are my first line of products. I know it's tradition to give them letters and numbers for a name, so I'll call them the IM-01s. Named for myself and my wonderful cousin."
I picked one of them up, taking care to point the barrel at the ground. It was shaped like a gun from my memories, a rifle commonly in use by the soldiers of GUN. It didn't help them against me, but my version was better anyways. It was a smooth and well-lined device, made with an especially strong plastic I'd made myself, with an optional scope lying on the table. The one the private was holding was mostly black and white.
"She's something of a lesson from rifles of the past. We all know what a good gun needs. Simplicity. Don't shove a bunch of random hardware into it, don't try and give it super-special bullets. Just make something that works every time you pull the trigger. It needs to put bullets downrange as fast, accurately, and with as much power as possible.
"Thus, the IM-01 fires the good old standard 5.56 rounds. But it fires them with almost no recoil, has reduced barrel friction and special rifling for increased bullet velocity and accuracy, an improved cycling mechanism for increased rate of fire, rugged construction capable of handling extended magazines and varying cartidge pressure, ambidextrous design and it's more lightweight than any other gun on the market, and is made with so few moving parts that even the most idiotic man in the world can repair and clean it in the field."
I handed it to one of the privates standing there. When he looked at General Bradley, the older man nodded, and the private shouldered his own weapon to grab the IM01.
"Take a shot at the pig downrange," I said. "Aim for as small a target as you can. Got it?"
"You sure?" the guy asked skeptically, lifting the gun in hands. "It's pretty far. I ain't exactly a sniper."
"You don't need to be."
"Just shoot the damn pig, Johnson," one of the men, a Sergeant in the Marines, said with a bit of annoyance. "And call your shot."
The private shrugged, lifted it up. "All right. Aiming for it's eye."
Wow, he must have really been skeptical it would work, aiming for a target that small.
He pulled the trigger. And with the slightest movement of the rifle and a bang a bullet smacked into the pigs forehead. And blew through it with ease, piercing the flesh nice and cleanly. The pig swung gently back and forth.
"Holy shit," the private said, sounding mildly shocked. He looked back at us. General Bradley was frowning thoughtfully. "Sir, should I-"
"Yeah, hit the gelatin next."
"You want to have a few more of your people try?"
"What the hell. Samson, Vasquez!"
The two soldiers, one a tall built white man, the other a more petite and muscular Latina woman, stepped forward and grabbed the guns on the table.
"What's this?" Vasquez asked, holding up a shotgun.
"The IM-02, because I wasn't allowed to call it the 'Devastator'," I said.
"Marketing says letters and numbers work better," Mechelle said.
"Anyways, I planned on making a shotgun that had no recoil, but that's for down the road. I don't want to make something that forces soldiers to relearn everything about guns. So this will have just enough kick to feel familiar, without being annoying. I would say I managed to reduce it by about 70% give or take. Semi-auto shotgun, and will actually take a conventional magazine without problems. Rugged as hell, accurate as hell, and light as hell."
Vasquez frowned. Then she put the stock to her shoulder and aimed at one of the ballistic gel targets shaped like a person. She fired once, twice, over and over, until she'd emptied the magazine entirely. By the time she was done, the former ballistic being was torn to pieces.
"Ohhhh. Mama like," Vasquez said with a grin.
"Go ahead and reload, I got enough ammo to play with," I said with a chuckle.
"How about this?" Samson said, looking more excited than before, holding up his own rifle for me to see.
"A 7.62mm marksman rifle," Samson aimed the gun. "Made for the times you can't be arsed to walk any closer to someone.
He lifted the gun to his shoulder and started firing, aiming for the eyes of the ballistic targets. After shooting those out, he aimed at the holes he'd made as well, shooting as quickly as he could until he ran out of ammo, then reloaded.
"I'd like you to notice, gentleman, the Ivo goal of simplicity. Make things that work. Reload smooth, fire smooth, and hit whatever you aim at. Now, try this."
I handed Samson another rifle, this one with blue tape on the magazine. "Armor piercing rounds."
Stepping back I pointed downrange towards a large piece of metal erected in the distance.
"Now, take a look at that armor plating. Same type used in many older light armored vehicles. You ever watch Police Academy?"
Samson grinned, lifting the gun. Firing as fast as he could pull the trigger, he released a hail of bullets down range. When he was done, he lifted the gun with a grin.
A near identical grin was etched into the piece of armor across the way.
Private Johnson was pouring bullets into a brick wall, and Private Vasquez ripped into the rest of the pig.
"They're much quieter than I expected," Bradley said, watching the carnage. "How do they feel, Johnson?"
"Like a dream, sir," he said, reloading with ease and grinning at us. "Too bad we won't be using these for a while. They must be expensive as hell."
"They cost as much to make as the standard model currently being made and manufactured by your suppliers," I said mercilessly.
Bernard's eyes widened, and one of the military brass let out a whistle.
"Of course, we could be talked into a discount," Mechelle said with a small chuckle. "Depending on the contract we make."
"Now hold on," a man in an Air Force uniform said, looking annoyed. John Chambers. He had a few 'under the table' dealing with various weapons manufacturers, but was also a hard-headed sort in general. "You make a few prototypes and you're already talking about selling these? How do we know they won't simply shatter apart the first time they get into a real weapons test? We're supposed to look at three guns-"
He stopped when the workers came up. Six large burly types. Pushing a rack of weapons, with 30 guns shining in the light. A redhead named Ella gave me a grin.
"Got your guns boss."
"Thank you, Ella," I grinned at John Chambers. "You want a real weapons test? Go right ahead. Smash them into the ground, shove dirt into them, cover them in literal feces. And these aren't prototypes, Mr. Chambers. I have a full line of them ready to go. I'll make better models one day, but right now these are top-of-the-line. As well as this."
I took a large handgun off the rack, one of many. "The IM-04. Now, this isn't a true replacement for the current handguns on the market. What it has, is the ultimate in soundproofing technology."
One of the soldiers took it from me. Then he started firing. And while the gun wasn't exactly whisper-quiet, it certainly didn't hit 95 DBS. Quieter than even the 136 DB Maxim 9.
Then I stepped forward. John Chambers was taller than me. Built like an old soldier. And he seemed to shrink at my approach.
"I would also appreciate it if you wouldn't question my skills. Like I said. I know the type you've been dealing with. And I am not them. Do you understand, Mr. Chambers, the type of man you are dealing with?"
The last was said with more heat than I expected. Because John Chambers backed away from me. There was a dark satisfaction in me, as I watched a lesser being falter. I could see the sweat on his brow, a momentary shiver before he brought himself back.
Then it was gone. And I turned around, hiding how uncomfortable I was. Mechelle met my eyes. I looked away first, looking back at the soldiers.
The various soldiers moved to grab their own guns as their commanding officers walked through it. John Chambers gave me a wide-eyed look, then walked over to join the others.
I walked over to join them. "Now. Gentlemen. These current weapons are impressive. But I saved something else for last. Something I think you will find… interesting. My Chief Technology Officer, Colin Kintobor, is in that warehouse in my... expensive science pipe dream, I guess we'll call it."
"That must be my cue."
The ground shook. The soldiers around us snapped their weapons upwards. Mechelle and Destiny watched calmly as the doors of the warehouse slid open silently on oiled hinges.
"Boom. Boom."
The echo of footsteps, grinding gears, and twisting servos filled the air. Colin and I agreed. Making the first entrance loud and impressive was much more important than showing how quiet it could be.
"Standing five meters and fifty one centimeters tall, with green painted carbon-fiber and steel structure, a cockpit of transparent aluminum, with my patented synthetic myomers, thank you for that Mrs. Simmons," she gave a proud nod. "Acting as musculature within the machine, giving it a speed and fluid movement unmatched in the field of robotics."
I grinned widely as all the brass seemed to drop their collective jaws. The machine in question was bipedal, it's armored feet like the talons of a massive hawk. It's 'torso' was shaped like that of a military aircraft, the emblem of an 'IV' shining on the side. A pair of massive box-shaped missile launchers sat on its shoulders. And inside, Colin could be seen grinning like a madman, a red scanner visor over his left eye.
"The F-6t 'Big Foot' - Ground Air Combat Walker. Show them what you got, Colin!"
At my call, the android super-genius laughed. "Yes! I will show them what I've got indeed!"
The massive machine spun on its heel. And started running. "Now, the problem with most current bipedal models, theoretical as they are, made by my competitors is a lack of speed, strength and power. Let's see how the Big Foot moves."
"Jesus Christ," one woman mumbled as Big Foot twisted around and started sprinting. It jumped over a knee height obstacle, then did a much larger jump over an average height wall, before hopping sideways to get around a pillar, all in smooth and quick moves.
That was where the ridiculousness lay. An immense amount of power was flowing through the Big Foot, feeding electricity to myomer inside him. It made it a very quick robot. As well as a powerful one.
Another wall blocked it. Rather than try to jump around it, the Big Foot smashed through the wall and kept going with only a bit of scratched paint to show for it.
"Gentlemen. Could you please fire at Colin?" I asked the group. "Use whatever you wish."
"Uh… is that safe?" a man in Navy blues asked.
"Oh, entirely."
Still hesitant, one woman put down one of the IM-01's and lifted her own rifle, firing.
The bullets bounced off the robot. Colin laughed inside the cockpit. "More! Show me more!"
"You heard the man," Bradley said.
The soldiers lifted up guns, including some of the IMs. Firing quickly, the bullets smacked across the Big Foot. Colin stood still for a moment, allowing them to shoot the main body, the transparent aluminum cockpit, and the legs.
When they finished, they had made a mess of the paint job but inflicted no other real damage.
Then I held up a hand. "Okay. Now. It's fast. It can handle an entire fireteam of bullets thanks to being at least as well armored as any main battle tank you care to name while being even faster and more maneuverable. And it can be piloted by a single man," I saw that realization spread. Piloted by one man. Instead of an entire tank crew.
We let that sit before Mechelle spoke. As she did, workers wheeled out more ballistic gel targets, putting them downwind of us. "But how much damage can it do besides just squishing combatants under its feet?"
"A fantastic question. Colin?"
"Ohhhh, yes!"
He spun around, aiming at the new targets. Thankfully long after my employees were well behind some ballistic shields with us.
"These are also for sale, by the way," Mechelle pointed out as we went behind the large square transparent walls. "Made of the same aluminum as our cockpits."
"Sweetie, time and a place."
"Yes sir," she said with a chuckle.
Colin piloted the mech closer to the targets. On the front of it, just under the nose, a large set of barrels began spinning quickly.
"Standard M61 Vulcan cannon derivative," I explained.
Colin unleashed hell. The vulcan cannon unleashed hell down wind, ripping through the remains of the pigs, then tearing into a ballistic gel form, sending false organs exploding apart. He walked around as he fired, moving back, forth, side to side, quickly, then slowly. It wasn't just random. It was to show how accurately it could fire while on the move, how it easily handled the recoil.
Then the missile pods on the mech's shoulders opened up.
"I was unable to obtain any AGM-176 Griffins obviously, so I made mockups. But the launchers are made for it."
The missile pods unleashed hell. I turned my back on the explosions to face the group of military men, smiling confidently. "I know, it's not the best I could give you. But hopefully this humble first showing lets you know what we're capable of. And if you want to make sure we aren't just blowing smoke, then you are free to test all of our equipment extensively."
"WAHAHAHA! YES! PERISH BEFORE ME YOU CRETINS! NO TARGET STANDS!" Colin roared happily as he continued to unleash hell, the last of his missiles exploding.
"Excuse Colin, gentlemen. He is quite excitable," I nodded to Mechelle, who nodded.
"By the way, gentlemen," she said, drawing their attention. "I'm sure you all want to test these yourselves. So Ivotech is allowing you to take all of these home, free of charge. Including the Big Foot."
Stunned silence followed her words.
All in all, I'd say it was a pretty good presentation.
------
Afterward, Simmons took us out for drinks. We went to a bar downtown together, sitting down with Colin, Mechelle, and E-Boy, who sat in a corner watching over us.
"I'm not really comfortable here," I told Simmons as we waited for our drinks.
"Oh, come on, be more excited!" she said, looking proud as hell. "You guys just blew it out of the park. I mean, I knew that was going to go well, but I never imagined you guys would do… I mean, that!"
"I explained quite clearly what my goal is, Mrs. Simmons," I said with a smirk. "Today wasn't some grand breakthrough to us. It's the slow start before we show what we can really do, our steps onto the stage of-"
"Okay, I'm not drunk enough for this," Simmons looked up, waving her hand. "Oy, hurry up please!"
Well…
As I sat there miffed, Mechelle patted my back. "It's okay, cous. We still did really well."
"I still say you shouldn't have offered such a big discount," Colin said with a bit of annoyance. "Those weapons are worth ten-fold what we promised to sell the first batch for."
"Price of doing business," Mechelle pointed out.
"Pretty much," Simmons added seriously. "We're fighting an uphill battle. A new company, with new weapons, promising impossible things. If you want your company to become a big weapons manufacturer of the US military soon, you need to come out swinging, and you need your weapons to spread among the literal rank-and-file. Let them start turning the tide in real fights and you'll see a lot more demand for your supply."
She chuckled as the waiter came over with a tray of drinks. "But for now, relax guys! We made a big deal today."
Colin relaxed a bit, grabbing his glass of scotch. "Yes, I suppose so. Forgive my rudeness, Mrs. Simmons. I am happy with the progress we have made."
"Insanely fast progress," she pointed out.
"Ah, it's all because of my cous," Mechelle said with a smile. "He's the brilliant one."
I fought off a bit of imposter syndrome at that, but nodded. "Well, I spent a lot of time creating these things. Just nice to actually apply my research. Hopefully one day I can fulfill my ultimate goal…"
"And what is that?" Simmons asked curiously.
Technically, depose Vought and become the most powerful organization in the world. But I couldn't just admit that. So…
"Create a space program," I said with a smile. "A private space program. Made to explore the solar system, make stations across the stars, mine the asteroid belt and more."
"Damn, you don't aim small, do you?" Simmons noted.
"We live in a world of-"
"Hey, come on!" someone shouted at the bar.
We all looked over at the shouter. My eyes widened.
"...of superhumans," I finished. "And anything is possible."
The shouter at the bar was a very large and muscular black man. He was wearing a black spandex suit of sorts, with armored panels across the shoulders, chest, and thighs with ornate looking designs along his body. I recognized him from both my world and the news.
Nubian Prince, a supe with superhuman strength, speed, agility, and durability. AKA, knockoff Black Panther. What was he doing in New York City? He was supposed to be in Detroit...
Right now he looked annoyed. Well, pissed off, honestly. And drunk. Very drunk.
Once people realized who was there, they pulled out their phones and started filming and taking pictures. He didn't pay attention, because he was yelling at the bartender. I couldn't hear everything, but the next part was very loud.
"-know who the fuck I am!?"
"I'm sorry, but James called ahead," the bartender said with a bit of fear in his eyes. "You're cut off for the night."
The large man snarled, looking more enraged by the second. "Bitch, if you-"
"Sir, please!" the bartender backed up, hands high.
Nubian Prince glared at him. Then his eyes panned around. I could see him noticing the cameras around him. I could imagine him thinking about the optics of the situation. Drunk hero, yelling at a bartender for more alcohol? That was bad enough. Doing more would lead to his precious 'points' getting lowered. And while Nubian Prince was popular, he wasn't a member of the Seven. Vought wouldn't do more than the basics to protect him.
He turned away, plastering a painfully fake smile on his face, and walked towards the door. "Fine. That's fine. Have a good rest of your night-"
He walked past E-Boy and bumped into E-Boy's fist. E-Boy let out a small 'Scrunch' of surprise and shuffled out of the way-
BOOM!
I hadn't been worried. That was my mistake. I'd thought that it was such a small and simple thing. He bumped into E-Boy. That was it. Nothing worth noting.
Then Nubian Prince's face twisted in rage and frustration, eyes snapping to E-Boy. He swung his fist downward in a swift move. His fist smashed into the steel frame of E-Boy.
He was made to withstand a lot. But Nubian Prince was stronger than that. E-Boy bent in half under the fist, crumbling. "SCREEEEE-"
His voice box cut off. The lights went out.
The entire bar stilled at the sudden burst of violence. Nubian Prince scoffed, wiping some oil off of his fist onto the wall, then walked out without a look back.
Mechelle looked horrified. Colin gaped at the door then looked over at me. "Julian… I-"
I rose to my feet slowly. "Mechelle. Gather what you can."
"Yes sir," she said, quickly walking over to E-Boy.
"Julian," Simmons' face was stern. "I know you're angry, but-"
I looked at her. She froze, sinking back into her seat. I walked up to the male bartender.
"Drinks are on Julian Ivo," I pulled out my checkbook and began writing on it. "For the rest of the night in the name of fuck that guy," I handed him the check, with a large number written on it, and turned dramatically as I handed it to him. "So drink as much as you all like, and everytime you do, say Fuck Nubian Prince!"
I doubted anyone cared about my sudden hate-on towards the hero, but the promise of all the drinks they wanted led to a loud and boisterous cheer across the popular bar. I turned to the bartender.
"And anything left on that is your tip, understand?" I asked the bartender.
"T-Thank you man," he asked, shocked.
"You're welcome," I turned and walked out. Mechelle followed silently, easily carrying the remains of E-Boy. Colin hopped from his seat, and Simmons hurriedly gathered her purse and followed as well.
Once we were outside, I spoke quickly. "Colin, take a look at E-Boy once we can get to the lab, see what you can salvage."
"Understood," he said, for once without any snide backtalk.
"Mechelle, I want you to look into the social media accounts of every person there. I want you to ruin that man's reputation. There should be some 'cute' footage of E-Boy from his time at the factory. Remember, Nubian Prince was apparently cut off for a reason. Look into his past, see what sort of reputation he has with Detroit's local bars."
"He'll be known as a violent drunk by the end of the week," Mechelle agreed.
"Make sure to leave more in case the Church of the Collective tries to pull him and rebuild his reputation," Simmons pointed out, looking a bit startled but quickly recovering.
"Excellent point. Now, legal ramifications?"
"E-Boy was insured. Beyond that, he was also an extremely valuable prototype. We can easily sue for damages."
"I can also make sure it looks like he knew what he was doing when he broke him," Mechelle said. "Some quick camera angles."
"Good. And Vought?"
Simmons coughed. "They'll… probably try to figure something out. Nubian Prince isn't a huge money-maker, but he does pull down some cash. That said… I know a couple guys who work for them."
"You're being surprisingly helpful," Colin noted.
"I hate drunk assholes. And I don't like how fucking invincible supes act when they screw people over," Simmons eyes were filled with just a bit of glee, the black woman grinning. "So yeah. Let's ruin him."
Intellectually, I knew I shouldn't have cared that much. E-Boy was replaceable. Obsolete.
But I was a man who was made of two sides. One, an emotional man who thought of E-Boy as an adorable pet, his first and only companion in the new world. The other, a vicious son of a bitch who saw a fucking supe treat his property like trash.
Combined, it led to an icy sensation across my mind, burning like the touch of frost on the skin. A single thought. Destroy him.
We walked into the night, planning to turn a minor superhero into a living pariah. More importantly. I decided it was time to get project Robotnik started.
Time to play supervillain.
"What a productive life I lead… Hehehehehe…"
About a week after her 'birth', Mechelle was speaking with Destiny Simmons, one of the lawyers that had been helping me for a long while.
They were in my office as I walked in, laughing. I walked over with a tray of coffee for them.
I'd been doing stuff like that a little. Small acts of generosity I didn't need to do. The last thing I wanted was to let the Eggman memories change me entirely. So anytime a thought like 'they might want coffee' hit me, I went out of my way to fulfill it.
Which was probably inherently selfish, only doing good things to hold onto my former self as I changed into someone else. But it was the best I had.
Julian Ivo was just as smart as Robotnik. But he wouldn't make his mistakes. I had the memories of a more humble man, and a Robotnik who had been fighting against Sonic and his friends for decades. I needed to hold onto that.
So yeah, I gave the ladies coffee.
"Julian, how could you have hidden Mechelle from me for so long?" Destiny asked me as I handed her a latte. She was chuckling a bit as she spoke. "She's an absolute delight."
"Oh, you know my cousin, he's such a secretive type," Mechelle said brightly. "But really, I think he just wanted to make sure he had his business in full swing. He was like that when we were kids. Never showed off an experiment unless he knew it was working. Though it still blew up in my face a time or two."
"It was a volcano, it was supposed to blow up," I grumbled.
"I can't imagine you as a kid," Destiny said, watching as I sat. "You act like such an old man sometimes."
"Oh, believe me, I can be quite childish," I chuckled. "It's why my business is starting off with the PC gaming industry. That said…"
Destiny's smile faded, and she nodded seriously. "Yes. Well, I've had word with some of our contacts in the military, and they are still agreeing to come tomorrow as you requested, especially after meeting Mechelle."
The last was said with a wide smile at my 'cousin', who looked pleased.
Mechelle had been hard at work since her creation. I had given her just as much authority as Colin had, but in a different direction. He was my Chief Operating Officer and Chief Technology Officer (COO and CTO), and Mechelle was my Chief Financial Officer and Chief Marketing Officer (CFO and CMO) both loaded with a few degrees from relevant colleges. I was President of IvoTech.
Mechelle, in her new role, hired a large cast of people under her, focusing on marketing our products to the public. She also spoke directly to the military types we were prepping to sell to.
"We'll be ready, Destiny," Mechelle said confidently. "I'm sure Julian's creations will blow them out of the water."
"I have no doubt about that," Destiny said, looking over at me. "Just be ready to have the men who come try anything and everything to make you look bad. I tried my best, but one or two of the generals very explicitly 'do not have financial ties to certain weapons manufacturers who supply them hookers.'"
"Always nice to know you can trust governments to be as corrupt as possible," I snarked. "Still, I have no problems with dealing with morons. My technology will stand for itself. I guarantee you that it will be a hell of a show."
------
The next day, I stood outside on our training range with Mechelle and Colin. Formerly a track to test cars on, it currently had a series of targets down range from us made of gelatin, as well as two pig carcasses hanging on ropes. There were also some large pieces of armor plating and brick walls. Next to us was a table holding a variety of objects. Aside from this there were also a few "random" items scattered about the remaining road track.
The three of us stood watching a group of generals and a small security unit of soldiers walk up with Destiny Simmons at the head of them. Four older looking men, wearing their formal uniforms, representing the Army, Navy, Air Force, and Marines, leading a group of very tough and young looking men and women carrying guns. I looked over at Colin.
"You ready for your part?"
"Yeeees," Colin said with some relish, a wide smile stretching his face. He walked off at a quick pace, entering a large warehouse recently built on our training range.
"Well, he doesn't lack for eagerness," I mused to myself, watching him disappear into the large warehouse before turning to Mechelle. "How about you?"
"I am ready to serve as needed," she said, her eyes never leaving me. Same as always.
God. That weird subservience of hers. I'd added a strong sense of loyalty to her programming, but not unless it was deserved, and not to this level of… It was unnerving and worrying. I wanted her to be her own person.
Then everyone got close enough. Mechelle transformed in an instant. Her eyes came alight. Her stance loosened up, becoming more open and inviting. She smiled with her whole face, highlighting the beauty I had given her, while still having just enough imperfections to keep her from being 'uncanny valley'.
I hid my thoughts as best as I could. I'd made Colin and Mechelle. So why did they confuse me so much sometimes?
"Gentlemen," Destiny said as she joined us. "Dr. Julian Ivo, the President of IvoTech, and Mechelle Ivo, his CFO. This is General Nathan Bradley, US Army, Lieutenant William Renquist, Air Force-"
I let the names roll past, listening closely and filing them one by one until Destiny finished, then holding out my hand for them. "Pleasure to meet you all."
"I'm sure it is," General Bradley said with some skepticism. "You're the one with all the fancy tech."
I could see that he and his fellow hard bitten soldier types weren't exactly on board with what I was selling. I couldn't blame them. I was promising a lot for a VERY good price. And they hadn't seen more than some basic mock-ups.
"I am indeed," I told him, not minding the look on their faces.
"And I'm the one who keeps him afloat," Mechelle said with a smile, walking up to shake his hand as well. "It's good to meet you, sir. I hope we'll be able to show how much we can help our boys get home safe."
Bradley looked at Mechelle. I guess he was trying to find some sort of lie in her eyes, checking if she was a snake-oil salesman. Instead, he seemed to warm. Like a grandfather meeting a treasured grandchild.
"Well uh… we'll see, all right?"
Mechelle looked like she'd been promised a pony, and Bradley smiled just a bit.
"Mechelle is quite right," I told the group of soldiers. "I know what you're thinking. 'He's just an idiot scientist here to talk to us about expensive science pipe dreams'. I'd like to say I'm different from everyone who has come to you with these sorts of promises, but that's a waste of air. So how about I let you grab a gun and practice with it?"
I turned and pointed at the weapons behind me. "These are my first line of products. I know it's tradition to give them letters and numbers for a name, so I'll call them the IM-01s. Named for myself and my wonderful cousin."
I picked one of them up, taking care to point the barrel at the ground. It was shaped like a gun from my memories, a rifle commonly in use by the soldiers of GUN. It didn't help them against me, but my version was better anyways. It was a smooth and well-lined device, made with an especially strong plastic I'd made myself, with an optional scope lying on the table. The one the private was holding was mostly black and white.
"She's something of a lesson from rifles of the past. We all know what a good gun needs. Simplicity. Don't shove a bunch of random hardware into it, don't try and give it super-special bullets. Just make something that works every time you pull the trigger. It needs to put bullets downrange as fast, accurately, and with as much power as possible.
"Thus, the IM-01 fires the good old standard 5.56 rounds. But it fires them with almost no recoil, has reduced barrel friction and special rifling for increased bullet velocity and accuracy, an improved cycling mechanism for increased rate of fire, rugged construction capable of handling extended magazines and varying cartidge pressure, ambidextrous design and it's more lightweight than any other gun on the market, and is made with so few moving parts that even the most idiotic man in the world can repair and clean it in the field."
I handed it to one of the privates standing there. When he looked at General Bradley, the older man nodded, and the private shouldered his own weapon to grab the IM01.
"Take a shot at the pig downrange," I said. "Aim for as small a target as you can. Got it?"
"You sure?" the guy asked skeptically, lifting the gun in hands. "It's pretty far. I ain't exactly a sniper."
"You don't need to be."
"Just shoot the damn pig, Johnson," one of the men, a Sergeant in the Marines, said with a bit of annoyance. "And call your shot."
The private shrugged, lifted it up. "All right. Aiming for it's eye."
Wow, he must have really been skeptical it would work, aiming for a target that small.
He pulled the trigger. And with the slightest movement of the rifle and a bang a bullet smacked into the pigs forehead. And blew through it with ease, piercing the flesh nice and cleanly. The pig swung gently back and forth.
"Holy shit," the private said, sounding mildly shocked. He looked back at us. General Bradley was frowning thoughtfully. "Sir, should I-"
"Yeah, hit the gelatin next."
"You want to have a few more of your people try?"
"What the hell. Samson, Vasquez!"
The two soldiers, one a tall built white man, the other a more petite and muscular Latina woman, stepped forward and grabbed the guns on the table.
"What's this?" Vasquez asked, holding up a shotgun.
"The IM-02, because I wasn't allowed to call it the 'Devastator'," I said.
"Marketing says letters and numbers work better," Mechelle said.
"Anyways, I planned on making a shotgun that had no recoil, but that's for down the road. I don't want to make something that forces soldiers to relearn everything about guns. So this will have just enough kick to feel familiar, without being annoying. I would say I managed to reduce it by about 70% give or take. Semi-auto shotgun, and will actually take a conventional magazine without problems. Rugged as hell, accurate as hell, and light as hell."
Vasquez frowned. Then she put the stock to her shoulder and aimed at one of the ballistic gel targets shaped like a person. She fired once, twice, over and over, until she'd emptied the magazine entirely. By the time she was done, the former ballistic being was torn to pieces.
"Ohhhh. Mama like," Vasquez said with a grin.
"Go ahead and reload, I got enough ammo to play with," I said with a chuckle.
"How about this?" Samson said, looking more excited than before, holding up his own rifle for me to see.
"A 7.62mm marksman rifle," Samson aimed the gun. "Made for the times you can't be arsed to walk any closer to someone.
He lifted the gun to his shoulder and started firing, aiming for the eyes of the ballistic targets. After shooting those out, he aimed at the holes he'd made as well, shooting as quickly as he could until he ran out of ammo, then reloaded.
"I'd like you to notice, gentleman, the Ivo goal of simplicity. Make things that work. Reload smooth, fire smooth, and hit whatever you aim at. Now, try this."
I handed Samson another rifle, this one with blue tape on the magazine. "Armor piercing rounds."
Stepping back I pointed downrange towards a large piece of metal erected in the distance.
"Now, take a look at that armor plating. Same type used in many older light armored vehicles. You ever watch Police Academy?"
Samson grinned, lifting the gun. Firing as fast as he could pull the trigger, he released a hail of bullets down range. When he was done, he lifted the gun with a grin.
A near identical grin was etched into the piece of armor across the way.
Private Johnson was pouring bullets into a brick wall, and Private Vasquez ripped into the rest of the pig.
"They're much quieter than I expected," Bradley said, watching the carnage. "How do they feel, Johnson?"
"Like a dream, sir," he said, reloading with ease and grinning at us. "Too bad we won't be using these for a while. They must be expensive as hell."
"They cost as much to make as the standard model currently being made and manufactured by your suppliers," I said mercilessly.
Bernard's eyes widened, and one of the military brass let out a whistle.
"Of course, we could be talked into a discount," Mechelle said with a small chuckle. "Depending on the contract we make."
"Now hold on," a man in an Air Force uniform said, looking annoyed. John Chambers. He had a few 'under the table' dealing with various weapons manufacturers, but was also a hard-headed sort in general. "You make a few prototypes and you're already talking about selling these? How do we know they won't simply shatter apart the first time they get into a real weapons test? We're supposed to look at three guns-"
He stopped when the workers came up. Six large burly types. Pushing a rack of weapons, with 30 guns shining in the light. A redhead named Ella gave me a grin.
"Got your guns boss."
"Thank you, Ella," I grinned at John Chambers. "You want a real weapons test? Go right ahead. Smash them into the ground, shove dirt into them, cover them in literal feces. And these aren't prototypes, Mr. Chambers. I have a full line of them ready to go. I'll make better models one day, but right now these are top-of-the-line. As well as this."
I took a large handgun off the rack, one of many. "The IM-04. Now, this isn't a true replacement for the current handguns on the market. What it has, is the ultimate in soundproofing technology."
One of the soldiers took it from me. Then he started firing. And while the gun wasn't exactly whisper-quiet, it certainly didn't hit 95 DBS. Quieter than even the 136 DB Maxim 9.
Then I stepped forward. John Chambers was taller than me. Built like an old soldier. And he seemed to shrink at my approach.
"I would also appreciate it if you wouldn't question my skills. Like I said. I know the type you've been dealing with. And I am not them. Do you understand, Mr. Chambers, the type of man you are dealing with?"
The last was said with more heat than I expected. Because John Chambers backed away from me. There was a dark satisfaction in me, as I watched a lesser being falter. I could see the sweat on his brow, a momentary shiver before he brought himself back.
Then it was gone. And I turned around, hiding how uncomfortable I was. Mechelle met my eyes. I looked away first, looking back at the soldiers.
The various soldiers moved to grab their own guns as their commanding officers walked through it. John Chambers gave me a wide-eyed look, then walked over to join the others.
I walked over to join them. "Now. Gentlemen. These current weapons are impressive. But I saved something else for last. Something I think you will find… interesting. My Chief Technology Officer, Colin Kintobor, is in that warehouse in my... expensive science pipe dream, I guess we'll call it."
"That must be my cue."
The ground shook. The soldiers around us snapped their weapons upwards. Mechelle and Destiny watched calmly as the doors of the warehouse slid open silently on oiled hinges.
"Boom. Boom."
The echo of footsteps, grinding gears, and twisting servos filled the air. Colin and I agreed. Making the first entrance loud and impressive was much more important than showing how quiet it could be.
"Standing five meters and fifty one centimeters tall, with green painted carbon-fiber and steel structure, a cockpit of transparent aluminum, with my patented synthetic myomers, thank you for that Mrs. Simmons," she gave a proud nod. "Acting as musculature within the machine, giving it a speed and fluid movement unmatched in the field of robotics."
I grinned widely as all the brass seemed to drop their collective jaws. The machine in question was bipedal, it's armored feet like the talons of a massive hawk. It's 'torso' was shaped like that of a military aircraft, the emblem of an 'IV' shining on the side. A pair of massive box-shaped missile launchers sat on its shoulders. And inside, Colin could be seen grinning like a madman, a red scanner visor over his left eye.
"The F-6t 'Big Foot' - Ground Air Combat Walker. Show them what you got, Colin!"
At my call, the android super-genius laughed. "Yes! I will show them what I've got indeed!"
The massive machine spun on its heel. And started running. "Now, the problem with most current bipedal models, theoretical as they are, made by my competitors is a lack of speed, strength and power. Let's see how the Big Foot moves."
"Jesus Christ," one woman mumbled as Big Foot twisted around and started sprinting. It jumped over a knee height obstacle, then did a much larger jump over an average height wall, before hopping sideways to get around a pillar, all in smooth and quick moves.
That was where the ridiculousness lay. An immense amount of power was flowing through the Big Foot, feeding electricity to myomer inside him. It made it a very quick robot. As well as a powerful one.
Another wall blocked it. Rather than try to jump around it, the Big Foot smashed through the wall and kept going with only a bit of scratched paint to show for it.
"Gentlemen. Could you please fire at Colin?" I asked the group. "Use whatever you wish."
"Uh… is that safe?" a man in Navy blues asked.
"Oh, entirely."
Still hesitant, one woman put down one of the IM-01's and lifted her own rifle, firing.
The bullets bounced off the robot. Colin laughed inside the cockpit. "More! Show me more!"
"You heard the man," Bradley said.
The soldiers lifted up guns, including some of the IMs. Firing quickly, the bullets smacked across the Big Foot. Colin stood still for a moment, allowing them to shoot the main body, the transparent aluminum cockpit, and the legs.
When they finished, they had made a mess of the paint job but inflicted no other real damage.
Then I held up a hand. "Okay. Now. It's fast. It can handle an entire fireteam of bullets thanks to being at least as well armored as any main battle tank you care to name while being even faster and more maneuverable. And it can be piloted by a single man," I saw that realization spread. Piloted by one man. Instead of an entire tank crew.
We let that sit before Mechelle spoke. As she did, workers wheeled out more ballistic gel targets, putting them downwind of us. "But how much damage can it do besides just squishing combatants under its feet?"
"A fantastic question. Colin?"
"Ohhhh, yes!"
He spun around, aiming at the new targets. Thankfully long after my employees were well behind some ballistic shields with us.
"These are also for sale, by the way," Mechelle pointed out as we went behind the large square transparent walls. "Made of the same aluminum as our cockpits."
"Sweetie, time and a place."
"Yes sir," she said with a chuckle.
Colin piloted the mech closer to the targets. On the front of it, just under the nose, a large set of barrels began spinning quickly.
"Standard M61 Vulcan cannon derivative," I explained.
Colin unleashed hell. The vulcan cannon unleashed hell down wind, ripping through the remains of the pigs, then tearing into a ballistic gel form, sending false organs exploding apart. He walked around as he fired, moving back, forth, side to side, quickly, then slowly. It wasn't just random. It was to show how accurately it could fire while on the move, how it easily handled the recoil.
Then the missile pods on the mech's shoulders opened up.
"I was unable to obtain any AGM-176 Griffins obviously, so I made mockups. But the launchers are made for it."
The missile pods unleashed hell. I turned my back on the explosions to face the group of military men, smiling confidently. "I know, it's not the best I could give you. But hopefully this humble first showing lets you know what we're capable of. And if you want to make sure we aren't just blowing smoke, then you are free to test all of our equipment extensively."
"WAHAHAHA! YES! PERISH BEFORE ME YOU CRETINS! NO TARGET STANDS!" Colin roared happily as he continued to unleash hell, the last of his missiles exploding.
"Excuse Colin, gentlemen. He is quite excitable," I nodded to Mechelle, who nodded.
"By the way, gentlemen," she said, drawing their attention. "I'm sure you all want to test these yourselves. So Ivotech is allowing you to take all of these home, free of charge. Including the Big Foot."
Stunned silence followed her words.
All in all, I'd say it was a pretty good presentation.
------
Afterward, Simmons took us out for drinks. We went to a bar downtown together, sitting down with Colin, Mechelle, and E-Boy, who sat in a corner watching over us.
"I'm not really comfortable here," I told Simmons as we waited for our drinks.
"Oh, come on, be more excited!" she said, looking proud as hell. "You guys just blew it out of the park. I mean, I knew that was going to go well, but I never imagined you guys would do… I mean, that!"
"I explained quite clearly what my goal is, Mrs. Simmons," I said with a smirk. "Today wasn't some grand breakthrough to us. It's the slow start before we show what we can really do, our steps onto the stage of-"
"Okay, I'm not drunk enough for this," Simmons looked up, waving her hand. "Oy, hurry up please!"
Well…
As I sat there miffed, Mechelle patted my back. "It's okay, cous. We still did really well."
"I still say you shouldn't have offered such a big discount," Colin said with a bit of annoyance. "Those weapons are worth ten-fold what we promised to sell the first batch for."
"Price of doing business," Mechelle pointed out.
"Pretty much," Simmons added seriously. "We're fighting an uphill battle. A new company, with new weapons, promising impossible things. If you want your company to become a big weapons manufacturer of the US military soon, you need to come out swinging, and you need your weapons to spread among the literal rank-and-file. Let them start turning the tide in real fights and you'll see a lot more demand for your supply."
She chuckled as the waiter came over with a tray of drinks. "But for now, relax guys! We made a big deal today."
Colin relaxed a bit, grabbing his glass of scotch. "Yes, I suppose so. Forgive my rudeness, Mrs. Simmons. I am happy with the progress we have made."
"Insanely fast progress," she pointed out.
"Ah, it's all because of my cous," Mechelle said with a smile. "He's the brilliant one."
I fought off a bit of imposter syndrome at that, but nodded. "Well, I spent a lot of time creating these things. Just nice to actually apply my research. Hopefully one day I can fulfill my ultimate goal…"
"And what is that?" Simmons asked curiously.
Technically, depose Vought and become the most powerful organization in the world. But I couldn't just admit that. So…
"Create a space program," I said with a smile. "A private space program. Made to explore the solar system, make stations across the stars, mine the asteroid belt and more."
"Damn, you don't aim small, do you?" Simmons noted.
"We live in a world of-"
"Hey, come on!" someone shouted at the bar.
We all looked over at the shouter. My eyes widened.
"...of superhumans," I finished. "And anything is possible."
The shouter at the bar was a very large and muscular black man. He was wearing a black spandex suit of sorts, with armored panels across the shoulders, chest, and thighs with ornate looking designs along his body. I recognized him from both my world and the news.
Nubian Prince, a supe with superhuman strength, speed, agility, and durability. AKA, knockoff Black Panther. What was he doing in New York City? He was supposed to be in Detroit...
Right now he looked annoyed. Well, pissed off, honestly. And drunk. Very drunk.
Once people realized who was there, they pulled out their phones and started filming and taking pictures. He didn't pay attention, because he was yelling at the bartender. I couldn't hear everything, but the next part was very loud.
"-know who the fuck I am!?"
"I'm sorry, but James called ahead," the bartender said with a bit of fear in his eyes. "You're cut off for the night."
The large man snarled, looking more enraged by the second. "Bitch, if you-"
"Sir, please!" the bartender backed up, hands high.
Nubian Prince glared at him. Then his eyes panned around. I could see him noticing the cameras around him. I could imagine him thinking about the optics of the situation. Drunk hero, yelling at a bartender for more alcohol? That was bad enough. Doing more would lead to his precious 'points' getting lowered. And while Nubian Prince was popular, he wasn't a member of the Seven. Vought wouldn't do more than the basics to protect him.
He turned away, plastering a painfully fake smile on his face, and walked towards the door. "Fine. That's fine. Have a good rest of your night-"
He walked past E-Boy and bumped into E-Boy's fist. E-Boy let out a small 'Scrunch' of surprise and shuffled out of the way-
BOOM!
I hadn't been worried. That was my mistake. I'd thought that it was such a small and simple thing. He bumped into E-Boy. That was it. Nothing worth noting.
Then Nubian Prince's face twisted in rage and frustration, eyes snapping to E-Boy. He swung his fist downward in a swift move. His fist smashed into the steel frame of E-Boy.
He was made to withstand a lot. But Nubian Prince was stronger than that. E-Boy bent in half under the fist, crumbling. "SCREEEEE-"
His voice box cut off. The lights went out.
The entire bar stilled at the sudden burst of violence. Nubian Prince scoffed, wiping some oil off of his fist onto the wall, then walked out without a look back.
Mechelle looked horrified. Colin gaped at the door then looked over at me. "Julian… I-"
I rose to my feet slowly. "Mechelle. Gather what you can."
"Yes sir," she said, quickly walking over to E-Boy.
"Julian," Simmons' face was stern. "I know you're angry, but-"
I looked at her. She froze, sinking back into her seat. I walked up to the male bartender.
"Drinks are on Julian Ivo," I pulled out my checkbook and began writing on it. "For the rest of the night in the name of fuck that guy," I handed him the check, with a large number written on it, and turned dramatically as I handed it to him. "So drink as much as you all like, and everytime you do, say Fuck Nubian Prince!"
I doubted anyone cared about my sudden hate-on towards the hero, but the promise of all the drinks they wanted led to a loud and boisterous cheer across the popular bar. I turned to the bartender.
"And anything left on that is your tip, understand?" I asked the bartender.
"T-Thank you man," he asked, shocked.
"You're welcome," I turned and walked out. Mechelle followed silently, easily carrying the remains of E-Boy. Colin hopped from his seat, and Simmons hurriedly gathered her purse and followed as well.
Once we were outside, I spoke quickly. "Colin, take a look at E-Boy once we can get to the lab, see what you can salvage."
"Understood," he said, for once without any snide backtalk.
"Mechelle, I want you to look into the social media accounts of every person there. I want you to ruin that man's reputation. There should be some 'cute' footage of E-Boy from his time at the factory. Remember, Nubian Prince was apparently cut off for a reason. Look into his past, see what sort of reputation he has with Detroit's local bars."
"He'll be known as a violent drunk by the end of the week," Mechelle agreed.
"Make sure to leave more in case the Church of the Collective tries to pull him and rebuild his reputation," Simmons pointed out, looking a bit startled but quickly recovering.
"Excellent point. Now, legal ramifications?"
"E-Boy was insured. Beyond that, he was also an extremely valuable prototype. We can easily sue for damages."
"I can also make sure it looks like he knew what he was doing when he broke him," Mechelle said. "Some quick camera angles."
"Good. And Vought?"
Simmons coughed. "They'll… probably try to figure something out. Nubian Prince isn't a huge money-maker, but he does pull down some cash. That said… I know a couple guys who work for them."
"You're being surprisingly helpful," Colin noted.
"I hate drunk assholes. And I don't like how fucking invincible supes act when they screw people over," Simmons eyes were filled with just a bit of glee, the black woman grinning. "So yeah. Let's ruin him."
Intellectually, I knew I shouldn't have cared that much. E-Boy was replaceable. Obsolete.
But I was a man who was made of two sides. One, an emotional man who thought of E-Boy as an adorable pet, his first and only companion in the new world. The other, a vicious son of a bitch who saw a fucking supe treat his property like trash.
Combined, it led to an icy sensation across my mind, burning like the touch of frost on the skin. A single thought. Destroy him.
We walked into the night, planning to turn a minor superhero into a living pariah. More importantly. I decided it was time to get project Robotnik started.
Time to play supervillain.
"What a productive life I lead… Hehehehehe…"
Krazyfan1
Worrying for the future.
- Location
- Australia
R.I.P Best Boi.
giving the army the weapons is probably going to backfire.
hope you installed a secret off switch into them.
giving the army the weapons is probably going to backfire.
hope you installed a secret off switch into them.
jwolfe_beta
Semi Genre-Savvy Overlord
- Location
- Canada
And now the fun begins.
He can be rebuilt. Stronger, faster, better, with a functioning vocalizer.
Not really. The stuff he's selling to the military might as well be Model-Ts and Wright Flyers compared to the proverbial attack helicopters that 'Robotnik' will be running around with.
jwolfe_beta
Semi Genre-Savvy Overlord
- Location
- Canada
Would that even be possible? I was under the impression Vought had fairly tight control of the Supes.
verycoolname
Not actually cool
Vought is a pretty big organization and not a particularly moral one. If the super didn't make the news or otherwise interfere with Vought's goals, then I doubt they'd care. Hell, some of the more corrupt members might enable that sort of thing as a way of regulating it and taking a cut of the cash.
A walking robot? J thought he'd be a year from making something that obvious that Vought would hate?
masseffect.fandom.com
I agree with that argument about it in The Avatar Of Victory fic.
While it's nice to have a powerful shotgun that's so smooth you can wield it 1 handed and hit long range, the spirit of a shotgun means\requires that if you got enough lowered recoil to be smooth then you need more oomphf in gun to hit harder. Otherwise it's just a big hand cannon. Not a true shotgun.
Shotguns are fir big hits. As big as you can reasonably use them and often for targets that are in your face and need to die now!
Oh shit.
This reminds me if The Disciple.
Disciple
The Disciple is a shotgun in Mass Effect 3 and Mass Effect: Andromeda. Originally handcrafted for the exclusive use of justicars, the Disciple Shotgun's schematics were finally released to asari commandos after centuries of negotiation. The Disciple uses shells packed with microscale...
masseffect.fandom.com
While it's nice to have a powerful shotgun that's so smooth you can wield it 1 handed and hit long range, the spirit of a shotgun means\requires that if you got enough lowered recoil to be smooth then you need more oomphf in gun to hit harder. Otherwise it's just a big hand cannon. Not a true shotgun.
Shotguns are fir big hits. As big as you can reasonably use them and often for targets that are in your face and need to die now!
Oh shit.
Well, that guy will hopefully learn to regret his arrogance and foolishness.
I'm fairly sure soldiers will be singing Ivo's praises for having built a better mousetrap and a big honking mecha.
I suppose the next thing to build and earn their love would be a cheap and long lasting exoskeleton rig to save their poor joints and backs from heavy loads and rough work.
Just imagine, a man could leave the service without obliterated knees!
I'm fairly sure soldiers will be singing Ivo's praises for having built a better mousetrap and a big honking mecha.
I suppose the next thing to build and earn their love would be a cheap and long lasting exoskeleton rig to save their poor joints and backs from heavy loads and rough work.
Just imagine, a man could leave the service without obliterated knees!
- Location
- Elsewhere
You monster.
Free samples are the best part of shopping!
Modus_Tollens
SCREAMING AT THE APOCALYPSE
- Location
- ALSO SCREAMING.
I think AI backups is going to be one hundred percent necessary. An Altered Carbon cortical stack for robots. Because you are going to be sending dozens, hundreds into a woodchipper.
- Location
- Philippines
And cuter cause I am guessing they are the company mascot now
GamingandReading
Browses and Replies With Haste
- Pronouns
- He/Him
I imagine E-Boy was cute. A true Mascot. How dare this Black Panter Wannabe do that. What would be a good name for E-Boy II? Eggy. That's final. Making Snively and Mecha Robotnik is a nice cameo, but it doesn't quite fit the Eggman M.O. So, Eggy.
The question now is does he go E-Series from the get go or does he make the Egg Pawns first ?
Mgunh1
Not an AI, honest!
- Location
- Northern Luna Base, Module 5, Sublevel 15
It might even be Vought itself that puts out the hit. Remember, they're trying to break into the military with their supes and Julian is trying to make the average soldier competitive with supes.
GamingandReading
Browses and Replies With Haste
- Pronouns
- He/Him
I just now thought of this question. What would Xercses(Metal Sonic) even look like. Would he be humanoid kinda like Mecha sonic, full-on humanoid, or would he just be like the original?
Krazyfan1
Worrying for the future.
- Location
- Australia
6: Minecrafting
Chapter 6
One Week Later
Madelyn Stillwell
Madelyn Stillwell was an older blonde woman, beautiful, wearing a black shirt and dress. Her face was set into a small and controlled frown as she watched a news broadcast in her office, sitting against her desk, one leg crossed over the other as she watched.
Nubian Prince, Violent Drunk? The display said at the bottom. Footage of the hero smashing into a short robot could be seen, followed by earlier footage of the hero yelling at a bartender. Then, even more footage of him, in bars in Detroit and New York City, yelling, threatening people and destroying private property. Things Vought had easily been able to ignore… up until today.
"Turn it off," Madelyn sighed. Her assistant, Amanda, a young redheaded woman with a white jacket and blouse on, did as she asked. "So… what's next?"
"Well, marketing is having some trouble with it," Amanda admitted. "The fact is, social media is eating it up. There's pictures everywhere of this E-Boy thing being 'cute' and very marketable."
"Cute? It's a fucking robot."
"People love robots," Amanda said weakly. "And then, there's that guy, Ivo?"
"Oh, don't even get me started," Madelyn scowled. "That asshole. You know that whole 'Fuck Nubian Prince' thing is trending now?"
"I…" Amanda hesitated. "That's not the only thing. He's… well, look."
Amanda pulled out her tablet and tapped on it for a bit, turning it to face Madelyn. She read the email there for a minute. Information on one Julian Ivo. And after a moment, she lowered the tablet, glaring at Amanda.
"How the fuck does some random rich kid build a company in less than a month and single handily have the entire US military eating right out his fucking hands," she growled.
"I don't know," Amanda said hesitantly.
Madelyn sighed. Okay, this wasn't worth it.
"All right, just leave it," Madelyn waved a hand, shaking her head. "Nubian Prince isn't one of our best guys anyways. Just put out an apology statement for now, put him in Alcoholics Anonymous and have the writers make up a fucking crybaby background to justify his addiction. We can market him later as a 'redeemed hero' and make him the face of the whole thing."
"It's going to be tough to market him to Baltimore like we planned then," Amanda pointed out.
"We have a hundred more like him, just give me the next five after him and the mayor can pick what he likes best," Madelyn said. "Nubian Prince is the one who couldn't handle his fucking alcohol. Just send him to Akron after this is done. We can bring him back once this dies down and people forget all about it," Madelyn handed back the tablet. "Let's talk about someone worth holding onto. You finished with A-Train's speech."
"Already written up. We have a press conference planned to air right after the funeral."
"Perfect. Let's talk it over. Oh, and the settlement?"
"Lawyers already on it to keep the family quiet. Same with her boyfriend. We don't have to, but marketing says settling with the boyfriend is a good look," she finished while Madelyn nodded.
Amanda hesitated.
"What about Ivo? And this…"
Amanda's eyes went back to looking at the pictures and videos on the 'Big Foot'. Madelyn looked at it as well.
A giant mech. Cheap, fast, and powerful. Showy too.
Madelyn mused over that. Ivotech shows off their new weapons and mech to the military. And right after, their CEO, CFO, and CTO are at a bar to see Nubian Prince smash one of their products. Coincidence? Right when he was about to get marketed to a new city for a possible 300 million dollar deal?
...Likely not. The chances were slim, but it wasn't as though they could plan Nubian Prince to show up. No one would have known he was even in New York City for a while.
She read some of the reports. Apparently both the troops and brass were loving it, calling it the biggest advancement in land combat in years while being cheaper than building a tank… or hiring a hero.
Then she dismissed it. They'd been working on selling supes to the military for years. One upstart with some tech wouldn't be taking it from them. He'd need better than a mech to enter the game before they could. Tech was great, but nothing on earth could match a supe for power and versatility. He could sell all he wanted. Hell, Vought could even benefit from it.
Madelyn liked the idea. American army, with mechs, fighting alongside superheroes. Now that was an image. The military of the future. Yes. Let him sell his fancy weapons, and Vought would sell their supes.
"I'll discuss it with everyone upstairs, see what sort of optics we can get on this," Madelyn said. "In the meantime. The Seven need a new member."
"Auditions are already on the way in," Amanda said cheerily. "We're hoping for someone from the heartland, nice and cheery, a real go-getter. Some options are-"
"I'll see what the options are later, that speech though?" Madelyn reminded her in an annoyed tone of voice.
"Oh r-right," Amanda recovered quickly, shaking her head. "So basically…"
------
Julian Ivo
"Sadly, E-Boy was a bit more of a primitive creation," Colin noted, looking down at the separated pieces before us. "In some ways, that was his strength. A sophisticated set of cheap technology brought together to make a simple, yet useful machine. But, once his durability was compromised, well… Nubian Prince's blow couldn't have been struck more accurately if he'd designed him himself."
"I'll compliment his luck later," I bit out.
"...My apologies," Colin lifted up some pieces of broken plastic. "The point is. While I can recover portions of him, his software is completely gone."
I ran my fingers across the pieces before us for a moment. "...He's the first creation of mine in this world. He protected me, and watched me through every stage of my work. I shouldn't be so sentimental. He wasn't designed to understand, to comprehend. Not like you or Mechelle. But-"
Colin's hand on my back stopped me. "I understand, Julian… In some ways, it's a relief, seeing you cared."
I scoffed, though there was no real heat to it. "You sure I'm not just faking it? Trying to draw sympathy from you?"
"Ah, yes. I suppose that's possible," he said. We stood in silence a bit longer. "I have some thoughts on how we can use his components. To make a specialized and new form, just for him. It will never be the same E-Boy, but I understand the need to bring him back in some way."
"What are you thinking?"
"Something of redesign for a powerful creation of Robotnik."
I saw what he was saying immediately, nodding slowly. "Yes… yes, that makes sense. For now, I need to focus. Colin. Please tell me my emotional outburst hasn't slowed down the Robotnik project."
"Not at all. Come, this way," Colin walked off. I followed immediately, turning my mind to the next problem.
We entered the main laboratory. I took in the sight of the room.
It changed a lot recently. From a big cement room covered in dirt, to a nice and clean metal walled fortress. Each part of it was sectioned off for our various avenues of research.
The section we walked into was locked up completely though. The door was incapable of being opened without the authorization of myself, Colin, or Mechelle.
Colin opened it and the room beyond came alight. The walls were pure black steel painted with a thick layer of zinc and soundproofed to hell. A single glass tub sat in the center of the room, surrounded by equipment and technology.
I looked in at it, Colin joining me. Within the tub was a single body. I'd had to take some liberties with it. Building the body had been a very long and involved process in some ways. Simple in others. The skeleton was a carbon-fiber structure around a titanium core, muscles made of a new version of my myomer muscle frame, surrounded by a new synthetic skin of rubber-plastic. It was inside the skeleton where the real differences lay though.
It had taken hours to create it. Based on the technology of my brain scan tech.
I'd told ASW that it was still in production. I doubt that surprised them. Mind reading technology was both a dream technology for reasons both fun and evil, and something no-one was close to making a good version of.
Except for me. I'd made an accurate scanner that could read minds, memories, and impulses, using a combination of neuron perception filters, mental imprint readers, face and eye sensors-... Look, there was a shit ton of work done. Just know that Eggman's memories helped me make it, and then I had to adjust it to work here.
Then, I had to find a way to transmit that data. Quantum entanglement. That was actually the easiest part. As long as you knew the physics of it, it was easier to pass information through quantum entanglement than it was through, say, a modern bluetooth.
I designed it into a mesh 'skeleton' of sorts, stringing it through the skeletal structure of the bot, with much of it running through the 'skull'. All with my newest update to the solid-state drives, which were still not as good as I would have liked but the best I could make for now.
"Why didn't you make an AI for this one?" Colin asked. "I can understand the thought of maintaining control, but you could easily make a version of-"
"What would be the first thing a version of that man would do?" I asked.
Colin hesitated, looking up at me. After a moment where our eyes locked, he rubbed the tip of his nose and sighed. "Yes, yes, you have a point."
"I've gotten good at that."
He chuckled. "Well, the Robotnik project is done. Now all we need is to activate it."
"...Well. This is going to be unnerving, huh?"
"I wouldn't know," Colin said snidely.
True enough. I walked over to the computer nearby, where a helmet modeled after the one used by the one used to connect to Cerebro from the X-Men comics rested. I lifted it up and placed it onto my head.
"Ready?"
"W-Wait," I hesitated, blinking. "Ohhh, man."
"You okay?"
"Yeah, just… even with the testing we did, if something goes wrong, my brain gets cooked."
"Oh please," Colin rolled his eyes.
"Some of us only have one head available! And I don't get upgrades!"
"Julian…"
"Fine goddamnit, flip it."
Colin pressed a button on the keyboard. I stilled.
And opened my eyes inside a liquid concoction. I blinked slowly. And after a moment, I slowly sat up, feeling the slimy fluid drip off my body.
"Hm… naked," Colin noted. "Somehow I wish we'd given you underwear, rather than leave you… flopping about."
"Yeah, it was weird enough making the thing," I flinched. "God… That is so strange. Speaking in a voice that isn't my own."
I sounded deeper, almost echoey. I'd gone off my most recent memories of this voice, which left me with a booming and imposing voice accented with something of a posh New England accent.
Standing entirely out of the tub and stepping out, I caught the towel Colin tossed towards me. "You are taking this better than I thought you would."
"I have experience in the matter," I began wiping off the slimy fluid, looking back.
I was standing back there, the helmet on my head as my fingers twitched. I was also standing nude with a towel in my hand.
I looked down at myself. There was a brief moment of body dysmorphia. Part of me felt like 'this isn't my body'. Another part said 'ah, finally I'm back to normal'.
I had long thick legs, a rotund belly, and arms that were thick with muscle. I looked like a classic lumberjack. Overweight, but thickly built with muscle under that. And dominating my vision whenever I looked down was a massive orange mustache.
"Done admiring yourself?" Colin asked.
"Why would I, when there is so much to admire," I said with a chuckle. I moved over to a table and began putting on clothes. Soon enough, I was wearing my full uniform. I looked into a mirror.
Black boots with dark gray set of pants tucked into the boots. A red jacket over my torso, with large gold buttons across it and a pair of tails, giving my whole appearance a very aristocratic look.
My eyes though… black. Entirely black. Except for two bright red pupils. My eyes seemed to burn. I looked evil.
I placed a pair of pince-nez on my nose and pushed them upwards. The lenses covered my eyes with opaque ice blue lenses, hiding those evil damn eyes of mine.
With that, I was no longer Julian Ivo. I was Eggman. Robotnik. One of the most iconic and infamous mad scientists in history. It would be fun to continue that journey.
"Was there a reason you went for those pupils?" Colin asked.
"One day, I'll need to intimidate Homelander," I said, turning to face Colin. "And these eyes would intimidate the devil himself."
"They'd have to, I suppose," Colin said. "Well. It looks like your new body is working as required. What's next?"
"Next? Why, what else, my dear companion?" I chuckled. "Julian will have his army. And I will have mine."
"Is it really healthy to talk about yourself in the… I'm not sure, third person?" Colin asked.
"Nothing in this job is healthy. I doubt my mental health was ever going to be stable after Ahti. Likely even before," I waved a hand dismissively. "And in the end, forming habits to differentiate my selves like this makes an unfortunate slipup far less likely. Now, let's see how good I am at creation in this form. We'll start small."
"Buzz Bombers?"
"Buzz Bombers."
------
One thing Eggman is famous for is his army. It's made up of some of the most varied and eclectic designs you could imagine. Mainly, the Badniks. Which in most iterations, were run by small animals acting as a power source and AI.
Eggman didn't need to run them on small animals. He didn't need to enclose squirrels, birds, and mice into armored shells. But he did it.
You might think it was about efficiency, or that he'd gotten more skilled at making AI and power sources as he got older.
Nope. It was funny, and it messed with Sonic's head. Seriously, the 'Blue Bomber' always kind of froze up whenever he was first starting out, worrying about if every bot he would fight would have a cute animal he had to worry about. Later as Sonic gained more skill and mastery he got over it, but Eggman still thought it was kind of hilarious.
I decided it wasn't worth following his example, no matter how funny he thought it would be.
But his designs, on the other hand, were incredible. Well-worth using. However, I needed some incredibly valuable resources. Resources that were hard to get a hold of in large quantities. Not because of price, but because of scarcity.
That said, I did have a time limit.
When I first arrived, it was two days after Robin died. With her funeral a month later, I had four weeks. Three of those weeks were gone. I'd done a stupid amount of stuff in that time of course, but I was now left with very little time.
And then there was Ahti's task. Didn't have much time for that.
So I had two days.
Thankfully, I'm not the kind of man who does his tasks one by one when you can get them started week one.
I needed resources. Rare earth minerals among them. And I'd finally gained the mining rights to do it.
------
"Makes sense that Ahti would give you an island that had easy access to those minerals," Mechelle noted as we stared at the map in front of us.
"He thinks ahead, to say the least," I said, tapping a finger to my beard. My Eggman controlling helmet rested on the table (I needed to figure out a less cumbersome control soon), the robotic body standing across from me. "Mining operations are beginning. But I can't wait for the legal route. I need to send someone out there to dig up everything I need and bring it back in twenty-four hours. If they can also create the circuit boards and other necessities for the Badniks on the way, all the better. So the plan is simple."
I placed the helmet on. My mind shifted on the quantum plane and entered the Eggman bot. I smiled at Mechelle and Colin.
"I will build a drill tank and a couple drill bots and go sideways from there. There is a nice dormant volcano a few islands over and that stuff is classic!"
"Can we do that?" Mechelle asked stoically.
"Do you doubt me?" I asked back.
"Never," the lack of hesitation to that was surprising enough that Colin looked a little bit perturbed by it. Mechelle continued. "I'm more worried about the machine. You said it was difficult to create a machine that could combat the immense heat and pressure under the earth."
"It is," I acknowledged. "In point of fact, it was damn near impossible. But I don't need it to take on much. As long as I can protect it from enough heat and pressure, it's fine. I would have liked to create something that could dig down into the mantle, but right now we're only able to reach the lower levels of the earth's crust."
"But it's unnecessary," Colin said. "The minerals we need aren't anywhere near that far down."
For now. My life was likely going to lead to the point we'd need to go down there later.
"I'll head out and begin the mining process now," I said with a shrug. "Mechelle, please get the paperwork for the facility to be built on," I took a look at the map. "Siegel Island. Once we can get some real workers helping us, we can begin mining massive amounts of material."
"I'll take care of it as I meet with the marketing team," she said calmly.
"You manage to convince them to stop asking you to model for posters for those?" Colin asked with a chuckle.
"I will be modeling."
Colin and I stared at her. She didn't look at all perturbed. "What will Colin be doing?"
"Acting as mission control, I suppose," Colin still looked as befuddled as I did, but continued. "As well as working on our other projects."
"Perfect," I walked out of the room and into the outside world, in the courtyard between all four buildings. This time of day, no one was around to see me in the Eggman body. Which meant no one could see the oversized container in the center of the courtyard.
I entered the container and gazed upon the creation held within.
An armored drill tank.
It was rough, I'll admit. Finished by my best men just the day before, it was a mostly square design, with treads for locomotion, and around 86 tons of steel and temperature controlled material.
Oh, and the drills in front. Large, circular and pointed, drills spread out like an ugly blooming flower on the front of the tank, with petals of pure destructive force.
I opened the door in the side, entering a small confined cockpit within. I sat in a chair made for Eggman's body and pulled the door closed without a second thought. Then I began booting up the machine, flicking on switches and bringing the machine and screens around me to life with a chorus of insanely loud engine noises and bright lights all around me.
"Testing, testing," I said into a mic connected to the top.
"We read you, Eggman, prepared for your departure," Colin said over the line.
"Fantastic. Take care of my body while I'm gone, I'll be hopping back into it for lunch."
"Understood," he said, sounding amused. "Come back with enough europium and we can dominate the screen industry by the end of the week."
The sound of an industrial flatbed rolling up and hooking up to the container came from outside. Right on time. It would lift the container up, take it out to the ocean, and drop it into the harbor. On the surface, it was being marked as a contribution to the NYS Artificial Reef Project. Really it was to give me a nice easy way to the ocean where I could dig.
As the super reinforced container lifted and began to shake, I chuckled.
"I'll see if Mother Earth is fine with me looting her," I reached for the controls, a set of levers on either side of a joystick in the center. "Now, play my song!"
Over the speakers, a loud bumping soundtrack began to play. Moments later, the voice of a young man began to sing.
"I'm mining. I'm mining. I'm mini-"
"Bit on the nose, but I'll accept it."
------
Once I was completely submerged under the Atlantic, I pushed the levers forward. The treads of the tank lifted up. The drills began to spin with a violent and powerful array of hardened metal, screeching aloud. Then they began to dig into the ground. Dirt was sent flying. The driller dived downwards, and soon I was alone, surrounded by earth.
Brothers of the mine rejoice!
Swing, swing, swing with me!
I hummed along to the sound of Wind Rose's take on 'Diggy Diggy Hole' as I dug through the earth, enjoying the peace of loud machinery around me.
The drill was doing great. I'd found several veins of material already, and she'd dug up the large portions of material for me. The way it worked was, the drill would slice up the rock and pull it into her 'maw', where it would enter a processing filter of sorts to get automatically sorted into the needed materials. Or shoved out the back as useless stone and dirt.
Mining was easy without zombies, creepers, and skeletons harassing me. Well, and the high-powered machinery.
Sadly, it was also sort of boring. Mostly just sitting there, monitoring screens, checking the temperature, looking at my GPS, and digging.
I stopped for lunch by going back into my original body. Quantum tech meant that there was no real lag or way to stop my helmet from connecting me to the Eggman body, so at least I could eat my fill.
After around 18 hours of work, I had a full suite of materials. I turned the driller around to head home with enough rare earth minerals (manganese, rhodium, palladium, and much, much more) to be worth a pretty penny.
And all of it would be poured into my creations.
Now for the final part of my work.
Then, Eggman would step onto the world stage.
------
Author's Note: So uhhhhh, it's my birthday. I'm now 31 years old. Huh. Been an odd year, eh?
Anyways, this chapter was a fun one to write. Julian is still working on almost nothing compared to Eggman's fleet of ships and giant army, but the nice thing about building advanced tech when you're a genius is that you can use it to build more. Next chapter though. Eggman meets a certain group!
Next chapter will be out on my Patreon Friday, then out to you fine folks next Tuesday! In the meantime, have a great week, and I hope you're Halloween is dope.
One Week Later
Madelyn Stillwell
Madelyn Stillwell was an older blonde woman, beautiful, wearing a black shirt and dress. Her face was set into a small and controlled frown as she watched a news broadcast in her office, sitting against her desk, one leg crossed over the other as she watched.
Nubian Prince, Violent Drunk? The display said at the bottom. Footage of the hero smashing into a short robot could be seen, followed by earlier footage of the hero yelling at a bartender. Then, even more footage of him, in bars in Detroit and New York City, yelling, threatening people and destroying private property. Things Vought had easily been able to ignore… up until today.
"Turn it off," Madelyn sighed. Her assistant, Amanda, a young redheaded woman with a white jacket and blouse on, did as she asked. "So… what's next?"
"Well, marketing is having some trouble with it," Amanda admitted. "The fact is, social media is eating it up. There's pictures everywhere of this E-Boy thing being 'cute' and very marketable."
"Cute? It's a fucking robot."
"People love robots," Amanda said weakly. "And then, there's that guy, Ivo?"
"Oh, don't even get me started," Madelyn scowled. "That asshole. You know that whole 'Fuck Nubian Prince' thing is trending now?"
"I…" Amanda hesitated. "That's not the only thing. He's… well, look."
Amanda pulled out her tablet and tapped on it for a bit, turning it to face Madelyn. She read the email there for a minute. Information on one Julian Ivo. And after a moment, she lowered the tablet, glaring at Amanda.
"How the fuck does some random rich kid build a company in less than a month and single handily have the entire US military eating right out his fucking hands," she growled.
"I don't know," Amanda said hesitantly.
Madelyn sighed. Okay, this wasn't worth it.
"All right, just leave it," Madelyn waved a hand, shaking her head. "Nubian Prince isn't one of our best guys anyways. Just put out an apology statement for now, put him in Alcoholics Anonymous and have the writers make up a fucking crybaby background to justify his addiction. We can market him later as a 'redeemed hero' and make him the face of the whole thing."
"It's going to be tough to market him to Baltimore like we planned then," Amanda pointed out.
"We have a hundred more like him, just give me the next five after him and the mayor can pick what he likes best," Madelyn said. "Nubian Prince is the one who couldn't handle his fucking alcohol. Just send him to Akron after this is done. We can bring him back once this dies down and people forget all about it," Madelyn handed back the tablet. "Let's talk about someone worth holding onto. You finished with A-Train's speech."
"Already written up. We have a press conference planned to air right after the funeral."
"Perfect. Let's talk it over. Oh, and the settlement?"
"Lawyers already on it to keep the family quiet. Same with her boyfriend. We don't have to, but marketing says settling with the boyfriend is a good look," she finished while Madelyn nodded.
Amanda hesitated.
"What about Ivo? And this…"
Amanda's eyes went back to looking at the pictures and videos on the 'Big Foot'. Madelyn looked at it as well.
A giant mech. Cheap, fast, and powerful. Showy too.
Madelyn mused over that. Ivotech shows off their new weapons and mech to the military. And right after, their CEO, CFO, and CTO are at a bar to see Nubian Prince smash one of their products. Coincidence? Right when he was about to get marketed to a new city for a possible 300 million dollar deal?
...Likely not. The chances were slim, but it wasn't as though they could plan Nubian Prince to show up. No one would have known he was even in New York City for a while.
She read some of the reports. Apparently both the troops and brass were loving it, calling it the biggest advancement in land combat in years while being cheaper than building a tank… or hiring a hero.
Then she dismissed it. They'd been working on selling supes to the military for years. One upstart with some tech wouldn't be taking it from them. He'd need better than a mech to enter the game before they could. Tech was great, but nothing on earth could match a supe for power and versatility. He could sell all he wanted. Hell, Vought could even benefit from it.
Madelyn liked the idea. American army, with mechs, fighting alongside superheroes. Now that was an image. The military of the future. Yes. Let him sell his fancy weapons, and Vought would sell their supes.
"I'll discuss it with everyone upstairs, see what sort of optics we can get on this," Madelyn said. "In the meantime. The Seven need a new member."
"Auditions are already on the way in," Amanda said cheerily. "We're hoping for someone from the heartland, nice and cheery, a real go-getter. Some options are-"
"I'll see what the options are later, that speech though?" Madelyn reminded her in an annoyed tone of voice.
"Oh r-right," Amanda recovered quickly, shaking her head. "So basically…"
------
Julian Ivo
"Sadly, E-Boy was a bit more of a primitive creation," Colin noted, looking down at the separated pieces before us. "In some ways, that was his strength. A sophisticated set of cheap technology brought together to make a simple, yet useful machine. But, once his durability was compromised, well… Nubian Prince's blow couldn't have been struck more accurately if he'd designed him himself."
"I'll compliment his luck later," I bit out.
"...My apologies," Colin lifted up some pieces of broken plastic. "The point is. While I can recover portions of him, his software is completely gone."
I ran my fingers across the pieces before us for a moment. "...He's the first creation of mine in this world. He protected me, and watched me through every stage of my work. I shouldn't be so sentimental. He wasn't designed to understand, to comprehend. Not like you or Mechelle. But-"
Colin's hand on my back stopped me. "I understand, Julian… In some ways, it's a relief, seeing you cared."
I scoffed, though there was no real heat to it. "You sure I'm not just faking it? Trying to draw sympathy from you?"
"Ah, yes. I suppose that's possible," he said. We stood in silence a bit longer. "I have some thoughts on how we can use his components. To make a specialized and new form, just for him. It will never be the same E-Boy, but I understand the need to bring him back in some way."
"What are you thinking?"
"Something of redesign for a powerful creation of Robotnik."
I saw what he was saying immediately, nodding slowly. "Yes… yes, that makes sense. For now, I need to focus. Colin. Please tell me my emotional outburst hasn't slowed down the Robotnik project."
"Not at all. Come, this way," Colin walked off. I followed immediately, turning my mind to the next problem.
We entered the main laboratory. I took in the sight of the room.
It changed a lot recently. From a big cement room covered in dirt, to a nice and clean metal walled fortress. Each part of it was sectioned off for our various avenues of research.
The section we walked into was locked up completely though. The door was incapable of being opened without the authorization of myself, Colin, or Mechelle.
Colin opened it and the room beyond came alight. The walls were pure black steel painted with a thick layer of zinc and soundproofed to hell. A single glass tub sat in the center of the room, surrounded by equipment and technology.
I looked in at it, Colin joining me. Within the tub was a single body. I'd had to take some liberties with it. Building the body had been a very long and involved process in some ways. Simple in others. The skeleton was a carbon-fiber structure around a titanium core, muscles made of a new version of my myomer muscle frame, surrounded by a new synthetic skin of rubber-plastic. It was inside the skeleton where the real differences lay though.
It had taken hours to create it. Based on the technology of my brain scan tech.
I'd told ASW that it was still in production. I doubt that surprised them. Mind reading technology was both a dream technology for reasons both fun and evil, and something no-one was close to making a good version of.
Except for me. I'd made an accurate scanner that could read minds, memories, and impulses, using a combination of neuron perception filters, mental imprint readers, face and eye sensors-... Look, there was a shit ton of work done. Just know that Eggman's memories helped me make it, and then I had to adjust it to work here.
Then, I had to find a way to transmit that data. Quantum entanglement. That was actually the easiest part. As long as you knew the physics of it, it was easier to pass information through quantum entanglement than it was through, say, a modern bluetooth.
I designed it into a mesh 'skeleton' of sorts, stringing it through the skeletal structure of the bot, with much of it running through the 'skull'. All with my newest update to the solid-state drives, which were still not as good as I would have liked but the best I could make for now.
"Why didn't you make an AI for this one?" Colin asked. "I can understand the thought of maintaining control, but you could easily make a version of-"
"What would be the first thing a version of that man would do?" I asked.
Colin hesitated, looking up at me. After a moment where our eyes locked, he rubbed the tip of his nose and sighed. "Yes, yes, you have a point."
"I've gotten good at that."
He chuckled. "Well, the Robotnik project is done. Now all we need is to activate it."
"...Well. This is going to be unnerving, huh?"
"I wouldn't know," Colin said snidely.
True enough. I walked over to the computer nearby, where a helmet modeled after the one used by the one used to connect to Cerebro from the X-Men comics rested. I lifted it up and placed it onto my head.
"Ready?"
"W-Wait," I hesitated, blinking. "Ohhh, man."
"You okay?"
"Yeah, just… even with the testing we did, if something goes wrong, my brain gets cooked."
"Oh please," Colin rolled his eyes.
"Some of us only have one head available! And I don't get upgrades!"
"Julian…"
"Fine goddamnit, flip it."
Colin pressed a button on the keyboard. I stilled.
And opened my eyes inside a liquid concoction. I blinked slowly. And after a moment, I slowly sat up, feeling the slimy fluid drip off my body.
"Hm… naked," Colin noted. "Somehow I wish we'd given you underwear, rather than leave you… flopping about."
"Yeah, it was weird enough making the thing," I flinched. "God… That is so strange. Speaking in a voice that isn't my own."
I sounded deeper, almost echoey. I'd gone off my most recent memories of this voice, which left me with a booming and imposing voice accented with something of a posh New England accent.
Standing entirely out of the tub and stepping out, I caught the towel Colin tossed towards me. "You are taking this better than I thought you would."
"I have experience in the matter," I began wiping off the slimy fluid, looking back.
I was standing back there, the helmet on my head as my fingers twitched. I was also standing nude with a towel in my hand.
I looked down at myself. There was a brief moment of body dysmorphia. Part of me felt like 'this isn't my body'. Another part said 'ah, finally I'm back to normal'.
I had long thick legs, a rotund belly, and arms that were thick with muscle. I looked like a classic lumberjack. Overweight, but thickly built with muscle under that. And dominating my vision whenever I looked down was a massive orange mustache.
"Done admiring yourself?" Colin asked.
"Why would I, when there is so much to admire," I said with a chuckle. I moved over to a table and began putting on clothes. Soon enough, I was wearing my full uniform. I looked into a mirror.
Black boots with dark gray set of pants tucked into the boots. A red jacket over my torso, with large gold buttons across it and a pair of tails, giving my whole appearance a very aristocratic look.
My eyes though… black. Entirely black. Except for two bright red pupils. My eyes seemed to burn. I looked evil.
I placed a pair of pince-nez on my nose and pushed them upwards. The lenses covered my eyes with opaque ice blue lenses, hiding those evil damn eyes of mine.
With that, I was no longer Julian Ivo. I was Eggman. Robotnik. One of the most iconic and infamous mad scientists in history. It would be fun to continue that journey.
"Was there a reason you went for those pupils?" Colin asked.
"One day, I'll need to intimidate Homelander," I said, turning to face Colin. "And these eyes would intimidate the devil himself."
"They'd have to, I suppose," Colin said. "Well. It looks like your new body is working as required. What's next?"
"Next? Why, what else, my dear companion?" I chuckled. "Julian will have his army. And I will have mine."
"Is it really healthy to talk about yourself in the… I'm not sure, third person?" Colin asked.
"Nothing in this job is healthy. I doubt my mental health was ever going to be stable after Ahti. Likely even before," I waved a hand dismissively. "And in the end, forming habits to differentiate my selves like this makes an unfortunate slipup far less likely. Now, let's see how good I am at creation in this form. We'll start small."
"Buzz Bombers?"
"Buzz Bombers."
------
One thing Eggman is famous for is his army. It's made up of some of the most varied and eclectic designs you could imagine. Mainly, the Badniks. Which in most iterations, were run by small animals acting as a power source and AI.
Eggman didn't need to run them on small animals. He didn't need to enclose squirrels, birds, and mice into armored shells. But he did it.
You might think it was about efficiency, or that he'd gotten more skilled at making AI and power sources as he got older.
Nope. It was funny, and it messed with Sonic's head. Seriously, the 'Blue Bomber' always kind of froze up whenever he was first starting out, worrying about if every bot he would fight would have a cute animal he had to worry about. Later as Sonic gained more skill and mastery he got over it, but Eggman still thought it was kind of hilarious.
I decided it wasn't worth following his example, no matter how funny he thought it would be.
But his designs, on the other hand, were incredible. Well-worth using. However, I needed some incredibly valuable resources. Resources that were hard to get a hold of in large quantities. Not because of price, but because of scarcity.
That said, I did have a time limit.
When I first arrived, it was two days after Robin died. With her funeral a month later, I had four weeks. Three of those weeks were gone. I'd done a stupid amount of stuff in that time of course, but I was now left with very little time.
And then there was Ahti's task. Didn't have much time for that.
So I had two days.
Thankfully, I'm not the kind of man who does his tasks one by one when you can get them started week one.
I needed resources. Rare earth minerals among them. And I'd finally gained the mining rights to do it.
------
"Makes sense that Ahti would give you an island that had easy access to those minerals," Mechelle noted as we stared at the map in front of us.
"He thinks ahead, to say the least," I said, tapping a finger to my beard. My Eggman controlling helmet rested on the table (I needed to figure out a less cumbersome control soon), the robotic body standing across from me. "Mining operations are beginning. But I can't wait for the legal route. I need to send someone out there to dig up everything I need and bring it back in twenty-four hours. If they can also create the circuit boards and other necessities for the Badniks on the way, all the better. So the plan is simple."
I placed the helmet on. My mind shifted on the quantum plane and entered the Eggman bot. I smiled at Mechelle and Colin.
"I will build a drill tank and a couple drill bots and go sideways from there. There is a nice dormant volcano a few islands over and that stuff is classic!"
"Can we do that?" Mechelle asked stoically.
"Do you doubt me?" I asked back.
"Never," the lack of hesitation to that was surprising enough that Colin looked a little bit perturbed by it. Mechelle continued. "I'm more worried about the machine. You said it was difficult to create a machine that could combat the immense heat and pressure under the earth."
"It is," I acknowledged. "In point of fact, it was damn near impossible. But I don't need it to take on much. As long as I can protect it from enough heat and pressure, it's fine. I would have liked to create something that could dig down into the mantle, but right now we're only able to reach the lower levels of the earth's crust."
"But it's unnecessary," Colin said. "The minerals we need aren't anywhere near that far down."
For now. My life was likely going to lead to the point we'd need to go down there later.
"I'll head out and begin the mining process now," I said with a shrug. "Mechelle, please get the paperwork for the facility to be built on," I took a look at the map. "Siegel Island. Once we can get some real workers helping us, we can begin mining massive amounts of material."
"I'll take care of it as I meet with the marketing team," she said calmly.
"You manage to convince them to stop asking you to model for posters for those?" Colin asked with a chuckle.
"I will be modeling."
Colin and I stared at her. She didn't look at all perturbed. "What will Colin be doing?"
"Acting as mission control, I suppose," Colin still looked as befuddled as I did, but continued. "As well as working on our other projects."
"Perfect," I walked out of the room and into the outside world, in the courtyard between all four buildings. This time of day, no one was around to see me in the Eggman body. Which meant no one could see the oversized container in the center of the courtyard.
I entered the container and gazed upon the creation held within.
An armored drill tank.
It was rough, I'll admit. Finished by my best men just the day before, it was a mostly square design, with treads for locomotion, and around 86 tons of steel and temperature controlled material.
Oh, and the drills in front. Large, circular and pointed, drills spread out like an ugly blooming flower on the front of the tank, with petals of pure destructive force.
I opened the door in the side, entering a small confined cockpit within. I sat in a chair made for Eggman's body and pulled the door closed without a second thought. Then I began booting up the machine, flicking on switches and bringing the machine and screens around me to life with a chorus of insanely loud engine noises and bright lights all around me.
"Testing, testing," I said into a mic connected to the top.
"We read you, Eggman, prepared for your departure," Colin said over the line.
"Fantastic. Take care of my body while I'm gone, I'll be hopping back into it for lunch."
"Understood," he said, sounding amused. "Come back with enough europium and we can dominate the screen industry by the end of the week."
The sound of an industrial flatbed rolling up and hooking up to the container came from outside. Right on time. It would lift the container up, take it out to the ocean, and drop it into the harbor. On the surface, it was being marked as a contribution to the NYS Artificial Reef Project. Really it was to give me a nice easy way to the ocean where I could dig.
As the super reinforced container lifted and began to shake, I chuckled.
"I'll see if Mother Earth is fine with me looting her," I reached for the controls, a set of levers on either side of a joystick in the center. "Now, play my song!"
Over the speakers, a loud bumping soundtrack began to play. Moments later, the voice of a young man began to sing.
"I'm mining. I'm mining. I'm mini-"
"Bit on the nose, but I'll accept it."
------
Once I was completely submerged under the Atlantic, I pushed the levers forward. The treads of the tank lifted up. The drills began to spin with a violent and powerful array of hardened metal, screeching aloud. Then they began to dig into the ground. Dirt was sent flying. The driller dived downwards, and soon I was alone, surrounded by earth.
Brothers of the mine rejoice!
Swing, swing, swing with me!
I hummed along to the sound of Wind Rose's take on 'Diggy Diggy Hole' as I dug through the earth, enjoying the peace of loud machinery around me.
The drill was doing great. I'd found several veins of material already, and she'd dug up the large portions of material for me. The way it worked was, the drill would slice up the rock and pull it into her 'maw', where it would enter a processing filter of sorts to get automatically sorted into the needed materials. Or shoved out the back as useless stone and dirt.
Mining was easy without zombies, creepers, and skeletons harassing me. Well, and the high-powered machinery.
Sadly, it was also sort of boring. Mostly just sitting there, monitoring screens, checking the temperature, looking at my GPS, and digging.
I stopped for lunch by going back into my original body. Quantum tech meant that there was no real lag or way to stop my helmet from connecting me to the Eggman body, so at least I could eat my fill.
After around 18 hours of work, I had a full suite of materials. I turned the driller around to head home with enough rare earth minerals (manganese, rhodium, palladium, and much, much more) to be worth a pretty penny.
And all of it would be poured into my creations.
Now for the final part of my work.
Then, Eggman would step onto the world stage.
------
Author's Note: So uhhhhh, it's my birthday. I'm now 31 years old. Huh. Been an odd year, eh?
Anyways, this chapter was a fun one to write. Julian is still working on almost nothing compared to Eggman's fleet of ships and giant army, but the nice thing about building advanced tech when you're a genius is that you can use it to build more. Next chapter though. Eggman meets a certain group!
Next chapter will be out on my Patreon Friday, then out to you fine folks next Tuesday! In the meantime, have a great week, and I hope you're Halloween is dope.
williams1996
Alba gu bràth
- Location
- Scotland
Happy Birthday my guy have a good one
TheEmpOfMankind
THE GREAT MANPEROR
- Location
- Golden Toilet On Terra
- Pronouns
- He/Him/His
I'm assuming its the SatAM robotnik?
- Location
- Ohio
Happy Birthday, I hope it came with a good- no, Great Day for you! Seriously, I wish you a happy birthday and a year of good days.
Anyways, nice to see you weaving plots like a seamstress weaves a good blanket. A comedic Omake would be Julian inadvertently empowering Hughie with the commiserate powers of Sonic, including making his hair Blue. Stiff, and Sharp and of course sizzling with periodic energy discharges.
Would be funny seeing Butcher mess with him, like recharging his car battery from Hughie's hair while he is asleep, or mocking the fact he has to get Bikini waxes in order to prevent accidents... Like shredded underwear from the hair down there, or random power surges setting his underwear on fire.
Just things you wouldn't think of until it occurs to you that quills sharp enough to cut through a tank would be hell on anything being put on as clothing, add in the Sonic Movie showing that his quills spark with the energy that makes him so fast...
Well it would be hilarious with him faster than A-Train could ever by, as well as being able to perceive time in slow motion while moving. So easily able to avoid tragedies like what happened to him.
It would be even funnier if he replaced A-Train's suit during the run with something more humiliating to Vought, likely with Butcher coming up with a good part of the plan and what to replace his clothes with...
Anyways, nice to see you weaving plots like a seamstress weaves a good blanket. A comedic Omake would be Julian inadvertently empowering Hughie with the commiserate powers of Sonic, including making his hair Blue. Stiff, and Sharp and of course sizzling with periodic energy discharges.
Would be funny seeing Butcher mess with him, like recharging his car battery from Hughie's hair while he is asleep, or mocking the fact he has to get Bikini waxes in order to prevent accidents... Like shredded underwear from the hair down there, or random power surges setting his underwear on fire.
Just things you wouldn't think of until it occurs to you that quills sharp enough to cut through a tank would be hell on anything being put on as clothing, add in the Sonic Movie showing that his quills spark with the energy that makes him so fast...
Well it would be hilarious with him faster than A-Train could ever by, as well as being able to perceive time in slow motion while moving. So easily able to avoid tragedies like what happened to him.
It would be even funnier if he replaced A-Train's suit during the run with something more humiliating to Vought, likely with Butcher coming up with a good part of the plan and what to replace his clothes with...
