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Eggman clicked his pen, filling the silence. He leered at the various screens holographically illuminating one of his many conference rooms. Each monitor showed the private quarters of an Egg Boss’ control room. When he had inspected their regional bases, he had Orbot and Cubot insert a security camera nestled in the crook of the room, allowing him to spy on each one of them.
Unfortunately, Cubot had forgotten to set up the audio recording. He was only allowed to observe them, but it was better than nothing. Anything to keep tabs on his supposedly loyal generals was a plus in his book.
Leaning over his keyboard, spread out with fancy buttons and knobs, he tapped his pen on a teal button. The screen showing Abyss was quickly wide-screened. She was lounging in her chair, blowing air at her tentacles and picking at her cuticles, which Eggman thought was strange. After all, she was wearing gloves. She’d have to dig through the fabric to get at her cuticles, but he chalked it up to another odd personality trait among his Egg Bosses.
The soft green seawater pressed against circular windows. The room occasionally rocked, swaying from side to side. Treasure maps stretched across her oak table. When a crewmate brought in a new map, she leaped out from her chair. With a grin on her face, she tapped various markings on it, her mouth moving a mile a minute, her intentions becoming as clear as day to him.
Abyss was a pirate at heart. She was as treacherous as she was cunning. Pilfering nearly the entire crew from Captain Shellbreaker without breaking a sweat, Abyss proved to be one of his more merciless Egg Bosses. She had betrayed her teammates as soon as he finished sweetening the deal with promises of riches, pillaging, and glory, her enthusiasm a trait that Eggman quite liked.
But she was not on the level as her former captain. While she garnered respect from her flunkies, she was almost useless on her own. She deferred to her superiors among the Egg Bosses, but she was a good pawn who heeded his commands. He gleefully anticipated her eventual perfidy, hoping her tactics would at least make him arch an eyebrow.
He switched to another screen with a button press, Abyss’ screen minimizing. The ocean took on a deep, royal blue hue. A glare reflected in the camera from the metal tiles, and Eggman snorted, wishing Orbot had chosen a better spot to hide the camera.
Akhlut’s room was surprisingly bare. A simple bed with messy sheets, a desk covered in unfinished paperwork, and a training dummy were the only things worth noting. The training dummy had seen better days with bite marks crossing its head and neck, the thick coat it wore hanging on by failing seams.
Double doors pried apart. Akhlut entered, his fists clenching. With a roar, he bashed the training dummy over the head. His blow tore it clean off, wooden tusks scattering to the floor.
Eggman pinched the bridge of his nose as Akhlut battered the hapless dummy. The enmity shared between Akhlut and Tundra strained the cohesion of the Egg Bosses. Their brawl had almost cost him severely against the Naugus Twins!
But as Akhlut bashed the dummy to the ground, punching it with all his might, Eggman knew Akhlut was a powerful ally. Sea dwellers respected his brutality and followed him to their demise. For the sake of bloodshed and mayhem, Akhlut provided the muscle Eggman needed to conquer the seas. He'd make a wonderful centerpiece on a dinner table when Eggman locked him in place, the thought making him snicker.
Eggman changed screens again. Lush greenery existed outside the lone window. Contrasting with the foliage, the interior was filled with automobile parts. A half-built hovercraft took up half the room. Eggman spotted Axel sitting next to it, a wrench in hand as he tightened a bolt on the door. Behind him, his latest recruits seemed to be taking notes as he talked them through fixing their crafts, a stern look on his face.
Axel was one of his more agreeable Egg Bosses. He believed in loyalty above everything else. When he could have allowed Eggman to suffer an excruciating demise, Axel had saved his life. His reliability was exceptional, something Eggman appreciated as Axel simply obeyed and led in coordination with Eggman’s orders.
But despite Axels’ abilities, the designs of his automobiles left much to be desired. They were clunky and rotund. Many of them lacked the weaponry he preferred. He made a mental note to send Axel a new shipment of his patented lasers to attach to the sides of their motorbikes.
Wondering if he sounded petty, Eggman shrugged and selected another Egg Boss. He grinned and leaned forward, crossing his legs as the form of Battle Lord Kukku XV appeared perched in his birdcage. There was a man with as much wickedness as him. He claimed to be the master of the skies, heralded from a noble lineage that no longer existed, a fact that Eggman enjoyed rubbing in his son's face.
Kukku was planning something. As one of his more cruel generals, Kukku ruled the skies with an iron fist and a compliant army. They were like robots, and Eggman found their stylish flight suits rather adorable, even if their feathers still appeared under the metallic confines.
Although Eggman could not put his finger on it, the anticipation left him grinning. Kukku was a monster in every meaning of the word. He maintained his poise and destroyed anyone who stood in his way, and Eggman couldn’t wait for the inevitable betrayal. It would let him blow his precious Armada to smithereens.
Another screen change led to the sisters. Cassia and Clove were sitting on their beds pressed to the walls of the room. Cassia’s tongue poked out her mouth as she kicked her legs. Her fingers mashed the buttons on a handheld gaming console, her brow furrowed in concentration. The lights reflected on her metallic head back into his eyes, causing Eggman to look over at her more reliable sister.
Clove was a trusting fool, the best kind of minion. She had come pleading and crying to Eggman to save Cassia. And he did, in a way, extend her life. He never promised to cure Cassia, which was Clove’s fault for not specifying her request. She believed him, and the despair etched on her face when he had explained the truth regarding Cassia was a photograph he kept framed in his desk drawer.
Clove glanced at the camera. For a moment, Eggman thought she was looking directly at him, but she turned to her sister and spoke. Cassia broke into silent laughter and waved her hand, the sight of sisterly affection so disgusting that Eggman changed monitors.
A traitorous wench appeared. Conquering Storm stood in the center of her dojo, her toes bouncing on the bright red mat. Ninjas clad in black tunics faced her, shurikens clenched between their fingers. She held up two fingers, her gaze shadowed by the brim of her long straw hat. Raising her head, Conquering Storm tucked in her fingers and smirked.
The flurry of shurikens earned a yawn from Eggman. Stormy was an Egg Boss who enjoyed ruffling his feathers. As she ducked and swerved through the onslaught of shurikens, he supposed he appreciated the show. He had seen the same tricks when he had initially recruited her. Using the same material always bored an audience member, even if the comedian didn’t know she was performing.
But her guile was moderately respectable. She was a proficient warrior leading her clan into battle, much like how Axel guided his brethren across the plains of Efrika. They also shared a mutual understanding; one would double-cross the other eventually, but with Conquering Storm, it would be with the ruthlessness of a hurricane.
Eggman hesitated on the most recent Egg Boss. Maw sat in a leather armchair with his legs crossed, examining his face in a hand mirror. Full-length mirrors and fancy velvet outfits caught his eye. And the poor sap who had to attend to Maw stood by the door, a report clenched between her trembling hands. They seemed to be in a conversation, Maw replying at his leisure while the stooge stammered. Eggman observed how Maw ran his hand over his muzzle, massaging the bolts by his cheeks with tender care.
He scoffed. His robotics were not cosmetics, but Maw’s loyalty was unique. He believed in Eggman’s rule as a sort of unification. And he couldn’t say Maw was wrong or naive. He served Eggman unquestioningly, and Eggman provided him with a unique power in return. It was almost symbiotic how Maw clung to him, furthering their mutual goals, and Eggman admitted Maw was a curious fellow worthy of serving his empire.
The toady moved aside, and two goons dragged in the failure of a soldier Eggman had gleefully shut down. Maw brightened considerably at the sight of Tassel Boy, tossing aside the hand mirror and dismissing the others. Standing up, he pulled over a full-length mirror and pointed at his muzzle, saying something the soldier disliked as all the color drained from his face.
Eggman decided to leave them to their business with a snicker. He moved on to one of the more cowardly Egg Bosses. Mordred sat in his throne room clutching a scepter made in his design. The tackiness was appalling, and Eggman dragged his hand down his face. He should have locked Mordred’s circuits for making him deal with secondhand embarrassment, but Mordred ruled a kingdom crucial to Eggman’s rule in the area. It was only for that reason he spared Mordred’s life.
Mordred smirked and addressed the lackey standing on his left. He seemed to be issuing directives, raising a finger to each order. Eggman pressed his pen on a button, causing the camera to zoom in on the scrawl of paper held by the minion. His mouth twitched into a slight smirk when he realized Mordred had given orders for continuous floggings at every hour of the day.
At least the cowardly Mordred served as a consistent source of amusement. If he wasn’t faltering and whimpering, then he was providing a finite amount of entertainment. The moment Mordred’s role as a jester ran dry after he fully controlled Eurish, Eggman decided to lock him up in the castle’s dungeon and throw away the key.
Moving on to the next Egg Boss, Eggman hummed. Her room consisted of monitors and keyboards sprawling from wall to wall. Scattered across the keyboards were textbooks and journals with colorful tabs sticking out of them. Nephthys stood in front of a laptop with her back facing the camera and her mask clutched in her left hand. Bright orange and teal colors flickered on the top of her computer, and Eggman pondered why the silhouettes on the screen seemed familiar.
She was one of the more mysterious Egg Bosses. He hardly knew anything about her before she pledged her allegiance. She was an imposing vulture who demanded respect from her subordinates, but something about her seemed peculiar. Unlike others who came to Eggman for power or aid, she came of her own volition with nothing to gain for herself.
Nephthys turned her computer off, and Eggman gritted his teeth. He hadn’t been able to identify the callers. But when Nephthys placed her mask over her face, Eggman grinned. Tears were cause for deception.
Chortling, Eggman selected his most adoring of lackeys. Thunderbolt slept under blankets decorated in his colors. In her arms, she snuggled with a handmade Eggman doll, which would have sent a shiver up his spine if it was another particular crony with a crush cradling it.
Thunderbolt was a rare minion. She had no plans outside of Eggman. She dedicated herself, heart and soul, to the Eggman Empire, throwing others to the wolves for an opportunity to make him crack a smile.
Her blind devotion earned her the ire of the other Egg Bosses. Thunderbolt couldn’t see the forest through the trees or the fire in the smoke. Whichever metaphor suited her best, Thunderbolt couldn’t foresee her demise, or perhaps, she’d enjoy dying for the sake of the Empire.
Eggman was greeted with a change of scenery as the screens swapped. Icicles clung to the window behind Tundra, who steepled his fingers as he sat at his study desk. He rubbed his head, stress lining the crow’s feet around his eyes. Leaning back, he heaved out a breath, white fog puffing out before he returned to writing his daily report.
He chuckled and shook his head. As the father of one of his most detested Freedom Fighters, Tundra ranked at the bottom of the Egg Bosses. Although he surrendered to the Empire and gave Eggman land and power in the region, fathering Rotor was an unforgivable sin, even if the cruelty he inflicted upon his son was good for a laugh.
Tundra glared at a framed photograph on his desk. Curious, Eggman zoomed in and scoffed. It was a picture of his deceased wife and young son with the glass cracked over their faces. Such sentimentality was enough to churn his stomach, and without a second thought, he switched over to his most recent recruit.
It had initially proven difficult for Eggman to spy on Wendy. Although he despised her and her loathsome affection with his entire being, she was a much-needed ally. Her mastery of magic earned her the final spot on the roster, and her dimwitted dolts were fine manpower if manipulated well enough.
But he had his ways to observe her. He had programmed a Newtron to follow her, turning invisible when she looked his way with its eyes recording her. The Witchcarters were too stupid to notice it as well, letting it be the perfect camera, and without Cubot in the picture, he heard her every word.
They were following a steel railroad surrounded by trees. Wendy guided her Witchcarters, throwing her arms up and shouting, “...and that stupid Wally has the nerve to blame me for losing the Master Emerald as if his stupidity wasn’t a factor! I wasn’t even near him when it happened. I wish that echidna knocked him into next week for him to stop harassing me.” She sighed, clasping her hand around her claw. “Oh, Eggy would’ve been so happy to hear that. I should give him an update with the news of my brother’s loss.”
Eggman grimaced, repulsed at the notion of communicating with her. Ignoring Wendy’s praise, he focused on her surroundings, realizing they were on the same island where Tails had defeated them. Peering at the Witchcarters with their glowing pink eyes, he wondered if they could handle an actual mission as he had ordered them to fully conquer the island in his name.
Well, at least they won’t be stopped by a child this time, he thought, turning off the monitors with a quick press to a deep purple button.
He leaned back in his chair and rolled the pen between his palms. They were all unique cronies with varying degrees of loyalty. As Axel said, they all worked for the Eggman Empire, unified under the common goal of domination regardless of personal intentions.
Eggman smirked. No matter what they desired, their goals aligned. They were figureheads of the Eggman Empire. Even if a few gears had hints of rust, they were cogs in the well-oiled machine Eggman admired as one of his greatest inventions.
And he ensured that they would live and die for him.
Let the game continue, my Egg Bosses, he thought with a cackle and left the conference room.