Work Text:
The prodigy sculptor raised her delicate hammer she fondly named Pykmalion - or Pyk!Pyk!, for its comforting sound. She tapped it deftly to the bronze forearm she had rendered from her cast. She found just one imperfection at the elbow that she would weld - it wouldn't be seen, of course, but she would know. And her perfect form deserved to be as perfect in render as he was in idea.
"Shall I fill in the mold?" Cream chirrupped, wiping it quickly with a rag. She was a good apprentice, but still just an apprentice. Yet, it was not long since the prodigy was an apprentice herself. She sighed and lay the forearm on the board.
"No, not at all. I will only be making one." She smiled softly, taking the cast and cleaning it carefully with the angora brush nontheless.
"But... the other hand?"
"Then he would have two left hands."
Cream looked hard at the arm, then her own two hands, and laughed brightly; "Oh, so he would!"
She hopped from her stool then rose up, letting the wind under her ears take her to the top shelf.
"What to buff with-"
"Cream, perhaps it's time you worked on your own project? I will build mine, and you can follow my lead?" The sculptor offered, quickly and excitedly, as she lay the bronze arm on a soft cushion, shrouded in cloth. If Cream could tell she was being invited not to help, she didn't let it bring her down.
"My own - my own sculpture? Would the Doctor really allow it?"
The sculptor wrinkled her nose, pushed rosy quills out of her eyes, and admired the sky; it was the first day of sunshine since winter dark had begun to wane. The sky was as bright as bronze, and under the shine people worked to complete the Temple of Hephaestus.
"He has welcomed every creation for this new dedication. And I know you'll make something beautiful!"
She cupped her young friend's face in her hands, and let her forget the arm as they designed a small effigy of a Chao together.
That night, she perfected the arm, and the molds for the rest of her perfect man: a creature so beautiful it would put the whole temple to shame, she feared. In the back of her mind, where she hoped Gods couldn't see, she knew this creation was not for Hephaestus, nor the Doctor who commanded this greatest dedication. It was for the form in her mind, who begged to be revealed in the finest material she knew. And it was for herself, who despite swearing off Aphrodite, had fallen in love with his image, and the heart she felt beating in the solid veins of his wrist.
She awoke from a trance holding his arm to her, her face in his one hand, lips to his thumb. She pulled herself from it and shook herself. The hand glinted knowingly at her in the candlelight. She was captured in the fancy, and held it out before her as though a priestess presented it, and knelt to the ground.
"My name is Amy Rose." She kissed the hand softly; "It will be my honour to meet you, Aestea."
"Does he look a bit like..." Cream stopped, biting her lip as she surveyed the laid out pieces of Amy's sculpture. Two full arms, two full legs, and the prototype head and torso glinted in the firelight on this rainy day. The ovens smelted more metal, Amy's particular ratio of copper and tin with Patina, for the blue pieces that covered the body in an armour it would wear every day. Blue, like a certain blue hero.
"A bit like the sky? I think so too. How is your Chao?" Amy said quickly, inspecting the impression of the Chao Cream was making. She had practiced in every form of sculpture before she moved on to metal, and was now refining her skills on the left pieces. She had rendered so many Chao, now, that Amy thought there might be more unusual little creatures lining her shelves than there were in the whole town. Cream inspected it's face close, and stroked its head.
"Sonic. You are creating an image of Sonic."
Amy tutted, and turned to fuss over the fire.
"You know not to speak of Hermes' champion in here. The Doctor will never allow us back to his forge."
"I know. And that's what I fear. You mustn't make a Sonic."
Amy's face was darkened by the soot, but she didn't seem to feel it. She carried the heavy pot of molten metal over to the next mold, and watched the liquid pour, before she set in the inlay.
"His name is Aestea."
"But, he's blue."
"Yes, and so is the sky, the sea, a peacock, and a beetle. Are they all paying homage to Sonic too?"
Cream worried her thick apron, sweating hard in the heat of the steam and flame.
"I suppose not. And you denounced that love."
Amy covered the setting legplate, and suppressed their fire.
"Oh, for sure. Sonic was a false gift of Aphrodite, she does like to trick, but never me again. Aestea is my gift to the Doctor, of course."
But after Cream was collected by her mother, Amy never left the workshop.
Aestea lay, imperfect and incomplete, next to her on the workbench. She ran her fingers over him.
"Are you sure this is the form you want?" She whispered. His prototype face rested limply off his neck, but she closed her eyes and saw rubies embedded there.
This is my form.
"But is it the one you want?" She whispered.
Metal fell still, but she took its hand again as she slept. And she dreamed of an Aestea not of rounded edges, but long sharp quills like a fallen star, and a golden ring at his chest.
Amy awoke too early the next day, and hastened to begin her modifications.
"It is good that you've revised your design. We mustn't invite Hermes to our midst." The round Doctor sneered as he assessed the designs on papyrus brought by his priests and priestesses of the new Temple. He had raised this small town to a thriving Empire of engineering, all ready to submit their greatest creation to his dedication to Hephaestus. If the God was pleased, they would be forged and anointed in Prometheus' fire, whatever that meant, so creators with a dream had come from far and wide.
Despite the talent bursting from the City Streets, Amy felt his beady eyes on her closer than anyone else in his forges. Such as this afternoon: he was visiting her again.
The Doctor knocked on Aestea's chest, inspected the armour he wore.
"He is not finished; his face is-"
"Oh yes, of course the face and whatnot. But do ensure that you focus on his body. The movement, the ability this form possesses-"
"Would possess. He is... Metal."
The Doctor sniffed Aestea deeply, his profound moustache brushing on his perfect fingers.
"Yes, he is Metal. He will be perfect, the perfect Sonic. Metal Sonic will dominate over the Hermes' champion!" The Doctor laughed in that uncanny way. Amy regretted that she ever let slip the comparison - only to highlight how the Neo Aestea would be his own man. But the arrogant Doctor was too pleased to own the perfected form of a champion he was rumoured to loath.
"Yes. He would." She said firmly, but felt a twinge of fear at his irritation; "Would you like to see the creation of my apprentice? She has graduated from Chao to the water-spirit of Chaos..."
She dragged his greedy eyes from her beloved sculpture, and covered him in his cape to hide the form.
Amy's hands stayed steady until she had rested the perfectly formed head onto Aestea. He had layers of different tinted metal, and his blue suit of armour so close to his body, but just separate enough to replace where there had been nicks in the process. It was midsummer, and as late as it was the humming insects and soft breeze kept her company in the dregs of light.
She resteadied her hands, her heart giddy and full of love, as she unfurled her own ruby earrings from the curls of her quills. She twisted the stones out easily, and with her tweezers and a dash of the brightest molten silver, she set them into the impressions she had left.
His helmet could close over his face, shutting his eyes to the public and their undeserving appearances. But here, on her workbench, he saw his first. And of course, he saw nothing, just lay still, the coldest thing in the warm room. But his beauty overwhelmed her, and she pressed her head to his, gripping the long spines for dear life.
"Is it perfect, my love? Is this what you wanted?" She whispered, her lips kissing him with every word.
Aestea's eyes glinted in the candlelight. Amy let him move in her mind, his own sharp hand tangling in her quills as hers was in his.
I am in your image. Keep me this way.
Amy awoke in Aestea's arms, ashamed to find she had disturbed his pose to place them around herself.
The Metal Sonic - Bronze, Bronze Patina, Bronze- Copper, Silver, Gold. Doctor Robotos.
The plinth at Aestea's feet was shadowed by it's proud, commanding form. One hand forward, commanding the troops of metal statues that stood before the temple to Hephaestus, that itself was a sculpture in the image of Robotos.
Amy's heart bled with a wound the likes of which Aphrodite had never given her before. His red eyes, preserved for only those who loved him the most, were harshly exposed by the metal visor, posed domineering and cruel.
"He's beautiful." Cream said softly, but she held Amy's hand tight.
"He certainly is. I am... proud." Amy sighed, before she fixed a smile on her face despite the tears in her eyes; "And I am proud of you too! Let's go and see your work!"
Cream started to lead her, but stopped.
"Shall we fix him?"
"Fix? He is as he feels, so, perfect!"
Cream shook her head.
"No, he isn't... in your image."
Amy looked around, then allowed Cream to fly her into the air. She twisted his hand upturned, from a command to attack to an invitation to approach. She curled his fingers with more grace than cruelty. She closed his eyes, then assessed his face.
"No. Robotos was right. He deserves to see the world as much as I do." She whispered, and opened them again, expressing with his visor more curiosity than menace. She pressed her head to his, and kissed his mouth, before folding the cover over his nose and chin.
Cream looked frightened above her, and she forced herself to laugh as though she were joking.
"There! Goodbye, Aestea. I hope you enjoy your service to Hephaestus, Metal Sonic!"
She laughed again, but tears sprang freely from her eyes, as they went to see Cream's Chao and protector, Perfect Chaos.
The evening of the Dedication to Hephaestus arrived as the trees started to become bronze with the statues. The town gathered, surveying the works and leaving offerings at the shrine. Robotos was nervous, swatting away the praise and thanks the pompous and dim offered him. As the sun set, he lit the fires quickly, and spoke fast into the flames, then waited impatiently for every offering to be made.
"Come on, come on, dig deep." He snapped as people passed.
Amy avoided her friends. She avoided her apprentice. She avoided Robotos. She stood in the cape she made for Aestea, and stared up at him. People jostled around her, shoving and tutting at her. She didn't care.
She had failed him. He was reposed behind her back, out of her image; she had failed to keep her promise to him, so she felt she had to gaze at her failure. He was unprotected from Robotos, and his helmet had been welded to his face in a permanent, mouthless scowl. But, his lips would never kiss another, as their bronze would never touch the bronze sky again. Her ruby earrings showed him the world, and under the Doctor's instruction it filled him with hate.
The flames started to roar down the kindling lines to the small pyres before every statue. Aestea's was last, as it stood at the front of the army. Outside of Amy's world, somebody screamed, as the welded Chao at Robotos' feet sprang to life in the flame, and attacked a child.
Rendered from idea, to metal, and now to life, the metal army was born off the backs of the people's sacrifice, and Amy felt the whole earth fall to ruin. The spectators ran, and someone dragged her away, but Aestea's ruby eyes compelled her to stare over her shoulder.
Alive. He could be alive. But by the bidding - and to do the bidding - of Robotos? No. She could not allow it. She peeled off of the rabble running to the temples for safety, and sprinted to Aphrodite.
Her old Goddess damned her as she crossed the threshhold, and she threw herself to the ground.
"Please, my goddess-"
The temple echoed harshly, and silenced her with sobs, but she fought it;
"I see now you were right. My eyes were clouded, I didn't see what you destined for me." She wept for Aestea, for Sonic rendered in Metal to be free from the will of another.
Screams outside grew louder, but Amy resigned to die here. The door rattled with a terifying knock.
"Aphrodite, I'll assign my life to you. If ever you loved your husband, implore him not to touch-"
The door cracked open, and the form she loved burned with hate for her.
"Aestea!" She cried, stumbling to her feet, as he charged for her, fast as lightning, pinning her to the stone wall.
But under the cold metal of his fingers, she felt something thump, and thump, and thump. In a rhythm alien to her own, not human, not mobian, but that could only come from a heart that clanged in a metal chest.
His face was mutilated, never would it bear his thoughts, just hate. And his soul was tarnished by the cruel intentions he was sacrificed for. But as he held her, ready to splatter blood across the floor of Aphrodite, she was happy - she might die in his arms.
Then he released her. He stared at her, ruby eyes full of fire, but didn't raise another hand.
"Aestea?" She asked softly, and he bristled; "I am so sorry..."
He approached her again slowly, and she closed her eyes and braced for death.
Metal hands took her face, and pressed it gently against his. He was cold, but he shook with the heart she prayed for. She pushed into him, feeling the body she had lovingly made against her skin, and kissed him across his face with no thought of a return. It was love, love like she'd never felt. She knew she'd follow him wherever he went, she'd show him her love and bring him back. It was all that mattered, she-
The temple they sheltered in was smashed apart.
Metal grabbed her, leapt up on his own flame, and stashed her in a tree for safety. Robotos, riding on an animated metal chariot, and whistled.
"Come, my Metal Sonic! Your inferior has arrived to challenge you!" the Doctor laughed.
Amy watched Metal turn briefly to the tree, before he took his heart and hers, and followed the path of evil.