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Stone remembers that day all too well. The air had been thick with the hum of machinery, the low murmur of scientists exchanging calculations, and the occasional frustrated muttering from Doctor Robotnik.
As usual, the Doctor had grumbled under his breath about the unnecessary presence of so many people. He never liked distractions, especially not from military officers who, despite their rank, knew far less than they thought they did.
“I don’t need this much company.” He grumbled, his eyes darting toward the officers stationed around the lab. “What do they think is going to happen? That I’ll blow up the moon?” Stone smirked slightly, keeping his hands behind his back. “Not this time, sir.”
The Doctor huffed, shaking his head. “They never learn.” It should have been an ordinary test. Another great experiment among many others. But then, something went wrong. The first shot rang out, sharp and sudden, splitting the air like a crack of thunder. For a split second, nobody moved. Then, chaos erupted.
Stone’s instincts kicked in before his mind could process the situation. He lunged forward, his body moving on pure autopilot. More shots. A deafening explosion. A bright flash of orange and red.
Through the smoke and confusion, he saw Robotnik stumble back. Without thinking, Stone threw himself forward, arms outstretched to shield the Doctor. The pain hit instantly, a searing, burning sensation tearing through his back. A bullet. Maybe two. But he didn’t stop. He couldn’t stop.
His only focus was on him.
"Stone!"
The Doctor’s voice cut through the chaos, sharp with something Stone had rarely heard from him, genuine panic. Stone reached for him, fingers outstretched. He almost had him. Almost-
Another explosion.
A blinding white light.
Then...nothing.
Stone woke to the sterile scent of antiseptic and the steady beep of machines. His body felt heavy, weighed down by pain. When he tried to move, agony lanced through his shoulder, his ribs, his leg. He was barely aware of the bandages wrapping his torso, the cast immobilizing his arm. By all accounts, he should have been dead.
But none of it mattered.
“Where’s the Doctor?” His voice was hoarse, barely more than a whisper. The room wasn’t empty. Several senior officers surrounded his bed, their uniforms crisp, their expressions unreadable. But there was something in their eyes, something that made his stomach twist. One of them cleared his throat. “Agent Stone, you’ve been unconscious for two weeks. You suffered-”
“I said, where is he?” Stone interrupted, his good hand gripping the sheets. He could feel the weakness in his body, but his voice carried a dangerous edge. "There was... an attack on the facility... a breach. Sabotage." Stone’s fingers curled into the sheets. "By who?"
"We’re still investigating."
"Don’t lie to me."
This time, no one answered right away. They exchanged looks, as if silently deciding who would bear the burden of telling him. Then, they removed their hats. Stone’s heart pounded in his chest.
No
“We regret to inform you that Doctor Ivo Robotnik did not survive the explosion. His body was never recovered...probably burned from close contact with the fire.” Stone’s fingers clenched into fists. That didn’t make any sense. He was there, he was so close to him, he saw him breathing before... If his Doctor is dead, why isn't he?
They were lying.
They were all lying.
For weeks, they tried to convince him. They brought in psychologists, counselors, people with kind eyes and rehearsed sympathy. They told him that grief could cause denial, that his mind was rejecting the truth, that accepting loss was the first step to healing. They treated him like a grieving man in denial. They thought they could break him.
But Stone knew better.
Stone played along at first, listening with blank expressions, but inside, his rage burned hotter than ever. They were trying to erase his Doctor. No funeral, no official mourning.
It was as if he had never existed.
On the day of the conference, as Stone sat in a wheelchair, his arm still in a cast, the government listed the names of those lost in the “tragic accident.” Scientists, security personnel, assistants.
Not once did they mention Doctor Ivo Robotnik.
When he confronted them, they fed him excuses.
“We can’t let our enemies know he’s gone.”
“It’s a matter of national security.”
“You must understand.”
At first, the government played nice. They gave him his own office. Sterile, cold, nothing like the controlled chaos of Robotnik’s lab. A desk, a chair, a computer. A pathetic attempt to make him feel important. They even returned some of the Doctor’s old belongings, as if handing him scraps would make him compliant.
Stone saw through them immediately.
They needed him. They weren’t about to admit it outright, but the signs were all there. The way they spoke to him with feigned respect, the way their eyes lingered when he worked, the way they waited, expecting him to pick up where the Doctor left off.
What a joke.
They really thought he’d just sit there, tinkering away in a dimly lit office, obediently completing Docktor’s unfinished work like some grieving lapdog.
Pathetic.
It didn’t take long for him to confirm his suspicions. Hacking into their systems was laughably easy. Government security? A joke. It barely even counted as a challenge. And just like that, the truth was laid out before him, in cold, clinical reports.
Doctor Ivo Robotnik had been in their way. A problem that needed "handling." So they handled it. They hadn’t just let the sabotage happen, they had designed it. A controlled disaster. A "necessary loss." The plan was to eliminate Robotnik completely while ensuring his assistant, Agent Stone, survived.
Of course.
Of course, they spared him.
Because they needed him.
Stone had spent years at Robotnik’s side, learning, assisting, perfecting. He had helped build some of the Doctor’s greatest inventions. His mind wasn’t far behind Robotnik’s. Close enough that, given the right tools, he could continue his work.
That was the only reason they had let him live.
If he had been anyone else, he would have taken a bullet to the head just like they had planned for the Doctor.
His fingers curled into fists as he read the reports, his breathing slow and measured despite the white hot rage building inside him. They thought they could manipulate him. Control him. Use him.
Idiots.
The moment he was strong enough to stand, the moment he could walk again without their assistance, Stone took everything. Every blueprint, every hidden project, every secret the government thought they could keep locked away. He emptied their databases, stole their classified files, and disappeared before they even realized what had happened.
The black markets welcomed him like a king. They had heard of him. The man who had walked away from one of the most classified government facilities with secrets worth entire nations. The man who had survived Doctor Robotnik and lived to tell the tale. They practically ate out of his hand when he arrived.
But Stone wasn’t stupid. He knew the game, who to use, who to buy, who to erase if they became a problem. Over the years, his name climbed the most wanted lists, his crimes escalating from theft to terrorist-level threat. Not that he cared. They called it treason. He called it preservation.
For years, Stone had been guarding the Doctor’s old plans. The unfinished ones, the nearly completed ones, and even the ones that had been perfected but that he had never dared to touch. No, those were sacred. Those belonged to him.
Stone had been waiting.
Waiting for his Doctor to return. Because he knew deep in his bones, in the very core of his being that his Doctor would come back. He had to. It was simply a matter of when. So Stone waited patiently.
Even as streaks of gray slowly crept into his once black hair. Even as wrinkles began forming under his eyes, evidence of sleepless nights spent in front of monitors, studying old blueprints and scanning for any trace of the Doctor. But time didn’t matter.
Age didn’t matter.
His body remained just as efficient as it had been years ago because he made sure of it. He trained, honed his skills, sharpened his mind like a blade. If Robotnik returned, Stone would be ready. And if, in the meantime, he found amusement in stealing classified government intelligence, sabotaging their operations, and planting paranoia in their ranks... well, that was just to keep himself occupied.
His latest game, however, had turned out to be particularly entertaining. For the first time in years, he had an interesting opponent.
Topaz
She was sharp, sharper than most of the fools chasing him. Stone had been watching her for a while, admiring the way she pieced things together, the way she never backed down. She was determined, tenacious.
And so, he played with her.
He left her clues, some true, some false. Dangling like bait, just to see how she’d react. Sometimes, he’d let her get just close enough to think she had him, only to slip away again. Other times, he’d try to scare her off. But that only made her chase him harder.
It was fun.
For the first time in a long time, Stone was genuinely entertained. And then, one day, she caught him. He still remembers the shock on her face as she snapped the handcuffs around his wrists.
"You’re under arrest, Agent Stone." He had simply smiled. Raised his hands. Surrendered without a fight. She didn’t understand, not at first. Not when she shoved him into the transport vehicle, not when they loaded him onto the plane bound for a high-security prison.
But then, as they took off, he saw the exact moment it clicked. Her wide-eyed realization. The way she stiffened in her seat. The way she turned sharply to the others, trying to make them see.
"He wanted to be caught!" She scrambled to undo what had already been set in motion, but of course, no one believed her. Stone simply leaned back in his seat, relaxed, amused.
He had won.
Maybe, if he hadn’t enjoyed the game so much, he might have felt a little sorry for her.
But he didn’t.
"What are you planning?"
Topaz’s voice was firm, but Stone could hear the uncertainty beneath it. They had given her one chance to visit him, one opportunity to get inside his head before he disappeared into the depths of the agency’s classified facilities.
Stone simply looked up, calm as ever, his hands bound behind his back as he sat in the interrogation room. A thick pane of reinforced glass separated them. He could see the way she was trying to steel herself, trying not to show weakness. A slow smile spread across his lips.
"Have you ever been in love, Topaz?" His voice was smooth, casual, as if they were old friends catching up over coffee rather than adversaries sitting on opposite sides of an interrogation table. He didn’t miss the way her body tensed, the slight step she took backward, the flicker of something uncomfortable in her eyes.
"What does that have to do with anything?" She asked, voice tight, wary. Stone exhaled a soft chuckle, leaning back in his chair as much as his restraints would allow. He shifted, crossing one leg over the other, looking at her with an almost lazy amusement. "You tell me."
She clenched her fists. "It’s about him, isn’t it?" She said, her voice quieter now. "Doctor Iv-"
"Don’t you dare."
The sharpness in his tone cut through the air like a blade. Topaz faltered but didn’t look away. "I understand you're upset about accident, but-" Stone laughed. Loudly. Mockingly. "Oh, Topaz... if only you knew how much they’re hiding from you."
She opened her mouth to respond, but before she could, the agents behind her stepped in. "That’s enough." One of them said, grabbing her arm. She barely had time to protest before she was pulled from the room. Stone just watched her go.
As the doors shut behind her, Stone tilted his head, watching her leave with that same unreadable smirk. He knew exactly what was happening here.
By all logic, he should have been executed the moment he was captured. But they couldn’t because they needed him. There were secrets locked in his mind, knowledge that only he and the Doctor had possessed. The government would stall, would interrogate, would try to make him talk. They could wait.
Stone had his own plan.
Escape was never the hard part. It was patience. And patience, Stone had in abundance. For three years, he waited. Three long years of watching, listening, collecting every piece of intel they let slip. They thought they had him under control, but Stone knew better.
He wasn’t in prison. He was simply biding his time. And then, when the sun was just beginning to rise one morning, Stone left. No alarms. No panic. Just silence.
By the time they realized what had happened, he was already gone along with every single piece of information he had deemed worth taking. The little remnants of his Doctor’s work they had tried so desperately to lock away.
Stone hadn’t expected much to change upon his return.
The world would still be corrupt. The government would still be full of liars. And he... he would continue to exist in the shadows, waiting. But then, he arrived at his hideout. And his entire world shifted.
Automated alerts flooded in from his network of hidden systems, sending him news reports, intercepted transmissions, security footage bits and pieces of a world that had changed in his absence.
Stone moved quickly, fingers flying over the keyboard, eyes darting across the screens as he sifted through the information. Most of it was the usual nonsense, government corruption, high-level security updates, the occasional black market chatter.
And then he saw it.
Reports describing as a blue hedgehog faster than anything anyone had ever seen, capable of breaking the sound barrier like it was nothing. Stone raised an eyebrow. "Well, that’s new."
He tapped a few keys, bringing up more footage, more reports. His curiosity was piqued, but it wasn’t that which made his breath hitch. It was the next image. A figure standing tall, laughing.
A man.
Standing atop a massive machine, barking orders to robots, his voice amplified by the sheer presence he commanded. His mustache was longer now, his body had changed, stretched, exaggerated, transformed into something almost cartoonish. But none of that mattered.
Stone saw it.
That laughter. That unmistakable, booming laughter. That sharp glint of mad genius in his eyes.
Stone's heart stopped.
Then it raced.
"He's back." The words left his lips before he could stop them. And then, everything inside him exploded. He threw his head back and laughed, the sound ringing through the lab. "He’s BACK!" He shouted, his voice echoing off the walls.
The lab around him was silent for so long, suddenly felt alive. Machines hummed, screens flashed, gears whirred. Everything that had been waiting in the shadows for this very moment finally had purpose once more.
Stone didn’t hesitate.
He moved quickly, stripping out of his worn clothes and slipping into something more fitting. His long coat, perfectly tailored and pristine. His signature red-tinted glasses, sliding into place with practiced ease.
Then, almost on instinct, he moved to the espresso machine. His hands worked with precision, muscle memory guiding him through every step as he brewed a fresh batch of lattes exactly the way the Doctor had always liked them. The scent of coffee filled the air.
Stone exhaled slowly, a big smile stretching across his face. "I've been waiting for you, Doctor."
Their first meeting had to be perfect.
Stone had waited too long, planned too long, for anything less.
The espresso machine whirred softly in the background as he carefully poured the Doctor’s latte. He hummed to himself, a familiar tune from long ago, one of those mindless little melodies that had once played over the intercoms of his Doctor’s old base.
With practiced precision, he secured the latte inside a reinforced metal container. He didn’t want it spilling, not now. Not when everything was finally falling into place.
Then, with a single snap of his fingers, the lab roared to life.
Machines whirred, screens flickered, hidden compartments slid open. Drones hovered into position, awaiting commands. Data scrolled rapidly across his monitors as he tracked a very specific signal, one he had programmed himself to detect the moment it reappeared.
And there it was.
Stone’s lips curled into a smirk.
"Looks like Doctor is busy with pest control."
How wonderful.
With an effortless flick of his wrist, he activated his transportation systems. In an instant, his machines adjusted course, ready to escort him straight into the fray.
The moment he arrived, the battle was already reaching its climax. Or to be perfectly honest, it was more like the final act of a losing fight. Stone would never say it out loud, but Eggman was struggling. His machines were falling apart, his forces dwindling, and that infuriating blue rodent was proving to be an absolute menace.
Stone exhaled slowly, straightening the collar of his coat as he stood atop a crumbling skyscraper. He clicked a button. Then, grinning like a man reborn, he spread his arms wide, letting the hot wind rush past him.
"Doctor! Welcome back!"
The air was thick with smoke and the scent of scorched metal. Below him, chaos reigned, flames, broken cars, people screaming, and that ever-present whirlwind of blue dashing through the streets. And then Eggman looked up.
For the first time in decades, their eyes met.
And just like that, the world had colors again.
Stone moved with effortless grace, descending from the ruins as if the battlefield were nothing more than a grand stage for their reunion. His heart pounded, his mind raced, he had waited so long for this. Too long.
Eggman’s machines were still fighting, locked in combat with Sonic and his irritating little friends, but Stone paid them no mind. He had eyes only for the Doctor. His red glasses gleamed under the fiery glow of the battle, his face stretched into a grin so wide it almost hurt. "Doctor." He breathed, savoring the word. "I knew you'd come back to us."
Eggman stared at him.
Stone could feel the weight of that stare, could see the sharp flicker of recognition in those brilliant eyes. Without missing a beat, he pulled out the small metal case, flipping it open with a flourish. "I’ve got your latte!" He declared. "A-and all the information about what happened while you were gone!"
His hands were shaking. Damn it, he was shaking. He tried to keep his composure, but the sheer excitement was overwhelming. "D-Doctor?" He pressed when Eggman still didn’t speak. "Doctor Eggman, right? That’s your name now, right sir?"
Eggman didn’t answer.
Didn’t move.
Didn’t even blink.
Not with the triumphant recognition Stone had anticipated, not even with that usual spark of mischievous genius that defined him. No, Eggman’s expression was... something else entirely. A strange mix of shock, disbelief, and... was that sadness?
"Stone…" Doctor's voice was heavier than Stone had ever heard it. "Is... is that really you?" The words hit him harder than any explosion ever could.
Before Stone could even process it, Eggman grabbed him by both arms, gripping tight, as if to confirm he was real. As if he might vanish at any moment. Stone barely had time to blink before he suddenly found himself yanked forward then off his feet entirely.
Eggman had thrown an arm around his waist and ran. It took Stone a second to process what was happening. One moment, he was standing there, basking in the long awaited reunion, and the next, he was being dragged through the battlefield at full speed.
Apparently, the blue hedgehog was a much bigger problem than Stone had anticipated. A particularly loud explosion rocked the street behind them, and Stone barely caught a glimpse of a familiar flash of blue. He sighed, dramatically resting his head against Eggman’s shoulder. "Oh, Doctor, you really do know how to sweep a man off his feet."
"Not now, Stone!" Eggman barked, skidding around a corner as an explosion went off behind them. "Do you have any idea how much trouble you’ve just caused?! I-ugh, we’ll talk later!" Stone chuckled, his heart pounding in a way that had nothing to do with the adrenaline. He didn’t care where they were going. He didn’t care what would come next.
All that mattered was that Eggman was here. That he was holding onto him like he never wanted to let go. And that, after years of waiting, Stone was finally feeling like at home.