Chapter Text
The storm clouds clear above, letting in rays of sunshine. Signaling a hero's victory with a clear blue sky. Metal squints through the sunlight, looking up at the battles victor.
Minutes earlier he was a dragon, on the verge of taking over the world. His rightful place as ruler, robbed from him despite his flawless plan. The robot simply cannot fathom his fate as he lays there almost limp. "How?" He asks.
"Because we're Sonic Heroes, baby!" His loathsome copy gives a smooth thumbs up.
The words echo inside of Metal's head as the world before him fades to black. His consciousness is dormant for the time being. Meanwhile, the heroes simply walk away, leaving him to corrode over time.
Sonic Heroes?
What in the world is that supposed to mean?
Deep in the vast stripes of a canyon, colors bleed through the dusty windows of a storage facility. It’s bland and boring with gray walls as empty as the robots that currently live inside. Its harsh geometry doesn’t even try to blend in with the organic rock face it resides within.
A single overhead light makes up for the condition of the windows. An Android Shadow and Omega play go fish for the fucktillionth time this week. It’s incredibly dull here by themselves. Team dark is truly incomplete without Rouge here to give them a constant stream of things to kill. Sure Android Shadow stood in the leader position in formation but, at the end of the day, Team Dark was founded and given direction by Rouge. Without her, the two robots sit in the warehouse all day trying to find something to kill without moral repercussions.
They look at each other with a knowing spark in their eyes before settling their gaze on an unmarked box pushed to the back. Buried with the imports of new, the old wooden crate is mysterious. It hasn’t moved an inch since they loaded its contents months ago. They both know exactly what is inside.
“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Shadow asks.
“Negative. I do not think,” Omega responds.Despite the robot’s answer he is very clearly on board with the idea that's running through both their heads. He stands up and clears a path to the box they’d treated with such fear and love.
One screw after another falls to the ground and tumbling out of the box is none other than Metal Sonic. Omega lifts the bot with ease, setting him on the counter for Shadow to connect to the building's power supply.
Moments pass. Nothing.
No seriously what the f-
The robot's lights flicker behind its cracked screen. His internal monologue is cut short by the new stimuli around him.
Shadow looks to Omega with a newfound fear for what they have brought onto themselves. It’s not too late to unplug the robot and put it back in its box. “This is a bad idea. Why are we doing this?”
“I want to destroy again” Omega smiles with his eyes in the way that only Shadow can recognize.
Shadow sits, trying to look disappointed.
“Tearing things apart limb from limb…” Omega continues.
“...” Shadow keeps quiet, still trying to act like he’s morally above this.
“With lots of explosions.” Omega gesticulates his descriptions with a single finger.
Shadow is at this point very much struggling to disagree with Omega’s sentiments about their stupid idea.It’s dangerous, people could die. They could die, it’s all around a-
“And guns.” Omega finally states locking Shadow in for the long haul.
“Alright, that does sound like fun.” Shadow admits grumbling something under his breath. The two-thirds of Team Dark close in on their barely conscious prey. "I'm starting to think we're a really bad combo."
Omega looks to Shadow and then back to Metal Sonic with a soft look on his black hole of a face. "I miss Rouge."
"Yeah…"
The two sit in silence in collective realization that the bat was the only thing keeping them in line. That without her, their collective moral ambiguity and passion for destruction has led them back to where they started. Cooped up in a glorified closet, wound up and ready to kill.
Prior to this conversation, they'd taken pride in the progress they had made as people. As if they had somehow grown beyond their base urges.
"So...are we still doing murder…?" Omega looks back to Shadow, concerned.
"Oh, definitely." Shadow doesn't even tear his attention away from the blue pile of scrap.
They don't have a Rouge around to tell them that this is a bad idea. Or that being horny for violence is sadistic and weird. All they have is killer robot solidarity, a deck of playing cards and a positive feedback loop just waiting for them to discover. Whoever authorized these two to be alone in the same room for extended periods of time should really see a doctor. More specifically a proctologist to find where their head went.
If the proctologist doesn't find their head, Metal might just decapitate them and call it a day. Metal has been awake and aware throughout this entire interaction. Limp, nearly lifeless and unable to move, the blue robot is forced to sit and watch as Omega digs through his insides. His clunky knife hands bring Metal no simulation of comfort in the slightest.
Metal lays there powerless as Shadow sits on a crate in front of him sipping on a mug of tea. He pleads with his eyes, but Shadow and the rest of the tea party show him no mercy. Metal wrongly assumed that Shadow wasn't as into the whole murder thing as Omega.
Robots are incapable of fear. Emotions and wants are not mathematically feasible. Feelings incalculable as the value of a baby's first words. Yet Metals entire hard drive is shitting a brick in panic.
As soon as his systems allow it Metal recoils from the large tin cans manhandling. Clattering to the floor like a trash bag of loose pots and pans.
Shadow looms over the fallen boy and asks with an eerie smile, "How are you feeling, bub?" His voice and word choice is that of a shitty wolverine impression.
Metal says nothing. He merely scrambles away further, getting ready for a fight. Omega makes the first strike with his knife hands balled up in a fist, slamming down on the badniks head.
Shadow throws his mug of tea behind him. A crash eliminates from the background. That mug is broken now. Nice job asshole. He leaps over his box and sweeps a foot under Metal's legs.
Metal jets up on top of a stack of boxes to escape the attacks, frantically looking around to map out his surroundings.
"God I missed this!" Shadow teleports behind Metal kicking him off the box pile. Without the battery capacity required to shapeshift Metal has no choice but to take the dent to the head.
Metals turbine sputters. Perhaps a robot can learn fear. He spots the window and makes a running jump. He successfully defenestrates himself into the air before activating his jet engine and blasting off into the summer sky.
Glass shatters to the floor kicking up a cloud of dust. The two thirds of team dark curse themselves for not getting rid of that turbine. Neither of them have the flying ability to chase the robot down. Flying is what Rouge was for.
They don't have a Rouge.