Work Text:
Constructing your own war machines comes with many occupational hazards, none of which Robotnik cared about until the day that he asked Zinnia to work with him. By “work,” of course, he meant “watch me display my brilliance to you while I talk and work.”
This was before the propeller shaft snapped and dropped a truck axle on her.
The differential struck her head, sending it at a sickening angle while the rest of her body crumpled. Robotnik could hear her neck snap just before the whole thing came crashing down to the floor. He covered his mouth with both hands, staring wide-eyed down at Zinnia. She was instantaneously gone, or was she? Her eyelids fluttered, and she tried focusing on him. Her mouth hung open, her lips shaped into an eternal sigh.
He clambered down from the Skyjack and ran to her side, dropping to his knees on the concrete floor. Blood pooled out around her, soaking into his pants. He paid no mind as he struggled to move the axle off of her and to one side, as he touched her face, as he recoiled from the strange sensation. Her dark skin was already devoid of warmth; there was nothing left to keep it within her. His vision blurred, and his face grew hot as he began to weep. Agent Stone was by his side immediately, calling for the medical team to come collect the body. He reached down to touch the doctor’s shoulder, only to be shrugged away. Robotnik was lost in his own little world now, alone with his shock and grief. He couldn’t make the tears stop. Shutting down was impossible this time; a harsh word towards Stone wouldn’t be enough to assuage the rush of pain, fear, and loss that swept him up now.
The medics arrived soon, and they attempted to move Zinnia’s body. They were met with bare-fisted violence and wordless rage. Agent Stone couldn’t hold him back; he tried and came away with a bloody lip. They tried sedating him, and at length he was too lethargic to attack anyone. The body was transported to the morgue, and the doctor was sent away to cool down.
He was gone for over a month. No one knew what to expect now, not even Stone, but his boss simply… went back to work. Most of his calories came from soylent or a bottle of scotch. He lost weight. He didn’t sleep until he was about to collapse. None of this was a departure from the norm, except there was a new light in his eyes. He was quieter, even tolerable at times. He continued to meet deadlines and exceed expectations. Robotnik had a new side project now, though. When he wasn’t working for his clients, he was working on a new set of programming for his beloved machines.
Things were going to “just snap” one of these days. The mechanical war dogs would turn and kill their owners, and then decimate the rest of humanity. Would they be stopped somewhere along the line? Eventually. It was a race to see how much devastation he could cause. It would be fun! Sure, he’d be locked away too tightly to hear the lamentations of this world full of disgusting meat-bags, and they might even keep him alive in a show of moral superiority. He would rot in prison, and all his plans for world domination would be scuppered, but he would leave his mark on the world forever. No one would ever hear his name without feeling the loss and fear that stalked every moment of his life.