Chapter 3: Want A Friend? Try Building Them!
Turns out when you spend enough money, cleaning a place up is a breeze. I started with 100 million or so. Now I was down to half. Hiring the firm, purchasing the property, getting a crew together, and finally purchasing supplies, machinery, and other necessities.
Worth it.
The guys I hired were all old hands at restoration and cleanup. They got to cleaning out the first building, getting it spic and span in three days. Once they finished up with it, I carted in my supplies and got Sam and his team, a group of machinists, welders, and other mechanically inclined types, to get to work.
------
"Now, this room is off-limits after this," I told Sam, leading him into a large area in the back of the Main Lab area.
There were four buildings. The north building, the smallest one, would become my main laboratory, as well as my living quarters, with an IKEA sofa bed to sleep on.
The east building would become the main floor for the robotics building, with clean-up crews working on it now before the assembly lines would be added in with armatures and other goodies to set up later.
The south building would be for weapons manufacturing. Mostly focusing on small arms for now. It was taking time to get the permits for that together, so it would remain a bit empty until ASW (Addams, Slant, and Waldorf) could dig through that mess.
Finally, the west building was for computer parts and software. That one was very important, as most of my early money would come from the stuff that would be created there. Even after, so much of the systems that would be used for my robots and weapons would be created there as well. Which meant it had to be the cleanest and most specialized of the buildings.
Outside the west building was a massive round track that had once been used to test the cars the automobile factory would make. I'd use it as well, for much the same reason, but also to test weapons.
The room I led Sam into was in the north building, at the back of the building. We entered it and almost bumped into E-Boy.
"Oh, hey bud. You okay?"
"Scrunch, scrunch," the tiny silver bot was carrying a large crate. As in, almost a full ton of material.
"Damn that thing is strong," Sam said idly.
"I made him to be. Okay, what I need is for you to take these panels," I walked over to a large pile in the center of the room, stacked higher than me in a circle around a smaller area. "And set them up along the walls of the main lab. These are sound-absorbing. Very rudimentary, sadly, and only enough to cover the main lab, but easy to install. The last thing I want is people outside getting bothered by all the noise. It'll be impossible for us to take care of every building right now, but the less we make, the better.
Sam nodded seriously. "You got it, boss. Anything else?"
"Yes. As I said. After this, no one is allowed to enter this room. I'll be working here on new ideas and products, so I need absolute privacy. Good?"
"Good. I'll get the boys on this."
"Heh. Yeah, get the Boys on it," I chuckled at that. He gave me a look, then shrugged, walking out of the room.
I smiled, looking over at the large pile of panels. They'd taken hours to make. It was primarily me just mixing chemicals outside, cooling them, cooking them, then remixing them over and over, then pouring them into a mold I'd made with two by fours. Making enough for the main lab had taken up all of my time.
But now I had soundproof… and x-ray proof panels, lined with zinc specifically for Homelander. Not perfect. They wouldn't absorb all sound, and I was sure it wasn't perfect on the 'x-ray proof' side of things if a non-Homelander supe tried to look inside, since I didn't have everything I needed for that, but it was still a hell of an addition.
I needed to plan. And I needed privacy for that. So making sure that Homelander couldn't listen in on me ahead of time was just smart.
On the list of things that could kill me out of nowhere, Homelander was top of the list. Then Congresswoman Neuman, the exploder of heads, followed by Butcher. The list included others, Stormfront, Black Noir, so on and so forth, but it wasn't worth going through the entire list.
Yes, Butcher. The man was a lunatic. And if he decided killing me got him something, he'd find some way to get to me. It didn't matter that he was a normal human with only basic technology on his side. He'd find a way.
With that dark thought, I moved over to my computer in the corner and sat down, grinning.
Week one done. My buildings were getting cleaned out, my tech would be getting made by assembly soon. By the end of week two, I'd have enough for my biggest project.
I activated my computer, watching as the screen came to life and the camera of my computer saw my face, unlocking itself.
Three blueprints were displayed there. Internal engines, databanks, false musculature, metallic skeleton.
I needed allies. Ones that I could actually trust completely. But I couldn't go out and just tell the future members of the Boys to join me. That was a dumb idea.
So instead I'd make them myself. Well. Two allies. The last one was more like a… suit, that I would change into.
I scrolled past a female form and a shorter male one to get to the last. A man, with an overweight and thick build, and a long mustache.
Eggman was going to have his day.
------
The next week was more work, more designing, more building.
I put together the basic blueprint for my new RAM and graphics card design, tested them out on motherboards, put together the assembly line, cleaned rooms, made machines to make the various sensitive parts, hired workers and so much more.
Then, it was time to put the word out. Yeah, I know. Only two weeks to get to selling something like that?
But to Eggman's mind, the tech I made was trash. And therefore, easy to design and produce. ASW gave me a list of contacts to sell them to, but I knew who would really want them.
I sent them to gamers, streamers, tech reviewers. People who would install the tech into their own computers, and find what I already knew. That my tech was not just the best on the market, but the best by a WIDE margin.
Then they'd see the price. Only a bit over half what even a mid-tier RAM or graphics card was.
And finally, I slapped some LED's on that. People love LED's.
There was a very nice boom of conversation when people realized just what I'd sent them. Then, what I was selling them. Orders poured in on my website, ivotech.com. I poured that money into more and more RAM and graphics cards.
Eggman's tech really was impossible. Technically, the tech I was selling shouldn't have worked on just any old computer. Something should have gone wrong, the tech was so much more powerful. Imagine taking parts from a modern gaming PC and trying to shove them into the first IBM computers. They just wouldn't be compatible in any way!
But Eggman didn't care. He saw the tech, and then he saw ways to bend it to his will.
There was something so satisfying about seeing those numbers rise on my board. I barely had enough supply to make up for the demand. We weren't household names yet of course. But the west building was busy, and getting more advanced the more time went by.
And as demand grew I would start to expand into CPU's, hard drives, power supplies, cooling systems and finally rolling out my own line of prebuilt pc's that could outcompete anything on the market in both price and performance. This would be the bread and butter cash cow of Ivotech for the foreseeable future.
But it wasn't my passion. My passion was robotics.
Of course, robotics isn't just metal and wires.
It's also bacteria.
------
In my main laboratory, I worked daily. I never saw the outside world, never left the ground of Ivo Industries, never spoke to anyone who wasn't my lawyers or my workers. My only partner was E-Boy, and my only interest was finding out the laws of physics of the Boys-verse.
Which, you won't be surprised to learn, were pretty flexible. They had to be, to allow for the things like flying unaided, controlling fire, etc.
I put together a short digital textbook of my knowledge, typing up everything I could. While I had Eggman's memory, anything new I learned was on me to memorize.
It took me three days to get the main gist of that stuff. Enough to figure out what sort of limits I might hit.
Then I got to work on the next part. Making my allies.
The main lab was broken up into various rooms using steel, plastic, and fencing. One room was dedicated to my biological experiments. Starting with creating bacteria.
The idea was simple. Use E.coli bacteria genetically modified by me to create the materials I needed. It was something that in modern technology was still in testing for things like 'self-healing' concrete. For one example, I used a strain of bacteria with an affinity for a polymer I created that would contract and expand based on how much electricity ran through it. A different strain was made for the sensitive material I would need to create sufficient computer systems for my project. So on, and so forth.
Once I had the right range of materials with the right 'affinity' bacteria for each one, I 'fed' it to the bacteria and placed chemicals in lines along the bottoms of tubs I'd created just for the purpose.
The bacteria went along those chemicals, then died selflessly for my cause.
In a matter of time, the tubs were showing results. Soon, I had most of what I needed for my first project to be created.
I needed an ally in science, first and foremost. And this one would be simplest to make. Simply because he was the smallest.
"The last time I made a robot," I said to E-Boy, who was watching calmly as I worked. "I was working with but a fraction of my potential genius. Not today. Today, I can unleash my true genius! ...well, 25 percent of it, at least."
"Scrunch, scrunch."
"That's right, my dear boy! Soon, we will have company! MUAHAHAHAHA! YES!"
I slapped a mask onto my face and turned to face a small table. "Time for surgery."
On the table was a skeleton. Made of a titanium alloy I'd come up with, it mimicked human skeletons in a few ways.
The work was both simple and insanely interesting. Have you ever done something and been impressed with yourself? Because I was. Not in an arrogant way, more like impressed by Eggman.
Pulling together the material I'd made into strands, I began carefully putting it across the skeleton. The work was precise and quick. Soon the metal skeleton was surrounded by thousands upon thousands of strands of green material woven together into false muscles, giving it the form of a short man with no skin. The muscles were attached to power ports lying at significant parts of the skeleton.
Once done with that labor-intensive process, I went through the muscles once more, making sure the work was done perfectly.
"Sadly," I said to E-Boy. "I was unable to perfectly mimic my prior methods for this sort of thing. So instead, I took cues from another fictional setting. A friend of mine in my original universe was a fan of the series Battletech. And I remembered him explaining the way that series explained how their large machines and robots could move with impressive speed. Myomers. And now, my genius has turned sci-fi nonsense and the half-hearted experimentation of lesser men-"
I cut myself off. "I mean, I did it. God, I need to stop monologuing…"
With the job done, the next part was the false skin. Made of rubber composite, it would allow my creation to mimic human touch almost exactly, with later updates planned to make the results more realistic.
I had E-Boy lift the skeleton, too heavy for me to carry even with the lightweight materials it was made of, and place it inside a 'bath' of sorts. The bath had a chemical mixture made to stick to the Myomer. There was also more bacteria within. Once the material attached, the bacteria would dig into it, eating away at it before dying, smoothing out the false skin, and even giving it halfway decent pores and false wrinkles.
As my creation soaked, I reached in with a pair of rubber gloves into the solution and placed a wire into the base of the skull. The wire went to one of my computers. I threw off the gloves and went over to the computer.
The software I'd created was slowly uploading. The robot had solid-state drives situated across him, each protected by layers of firewalls. Over 2 petabytes of processing power.
Just enough to mimic a top-level human mind when applying programming beyond what was known here.
"Don't let the sheer number of idiots on the internet fool you," I told E-Boy. "Making a human mind is a fiendishly complex process. And I'm attempting to mimic the mind of a person who is intelligent enough to be of some aid to me. Trying to mimic myself is going to be beyond me for some time… Well, not that long, since I'm smart enough to figure it out, but you know-Wow, just can't help bragging, can I?"
I pushed that aside. "Regardless. It's easy to upload knowledge. Any half-assed twit can make a device that can hold movies, textbooks, and the knowledge of how to manipulate chaos energy. The real challenge is processing. I'm not just making an AI. I'm making one that can take a look at the same page of data as I, and come up with ideas based on that! It needs understanding, it needs the ability to make hypotheses I may not. And then, give it a personality, that little bit of flavor!"
I stepped back. "And let it simmer…"
The bath in front of me booped as an air bubble left it. E-Boy watched. I watched.
"...I'm grabbing a bite to eat, this is going to take a few hours."
I turned and headed to my room, where a bunch of healthy snacks and unhealthy energy drinks lay in wait.
------
Hours passed. I ate. I monitored the progress of the upload. I looked over the musculature as it was covered in slowly forming skin. Then I looked over my other projects. Checked in with Sam and Simmons.
You'd think I was bored. But really, I was never 'bored' in the same way I once was.
For one, I had so much to do. Being a genius was intoxicating. Knowledge seemed to soak in. I was always pretty smart, but that was nothing compared to now.
And of course, Eggman's memories didn't just hold knowledge. They also had some cool fucking shit.
I remembered Sonic the Hedgehog in action. Knuckles the Echidna, Miles 'Tails' Prower, and so many more. I'd even seen Megaman at one point, the Blue Bomber himself.
Planets had fallen to ruin, vast technological empires stretched out before me, powers of the cosmos battled before my eyes.
Pretty wild shit.
So the time passed and I worked.
Eventually, in the middle of the night, I was back at the bath. My creation was finished. Its skin had come together. Its musculature was responding to the fusion core installed with him (Not the best power source, but the best I could make on short notice). And his software had been completely uploaded.
"...I'm tempted to scream 'It's alive' when this finishes," I admitted, at least to myself. Wait, had I made that joke before?
I watched as the bath began to drain. For a long moment, only the sound of swirling water filled the air.
Then, a pair of eyes snapped open. Blue eyes made of a ceramic composite with cameras within stared around- No. Enough of that. He was alive in all the ways that mattered. Can't just keep thinking of him in terms of components.
He scrambled, eyes widening and closing quickly. He gasped, short arms scratching at the glass, then grabbed the rim of the bathtub, pulling himself up. I kneeled next to him.
"E-Boy, come help!"
The bot moved over to us, helping me pull the heavy man out of the tub. Once he was out and standing, he staggered.
"I… I don't-"
"Don't talk," I said quickly. I pulled back from the Eggman. He didn't do 'comforting', not usually anyway.
"Come on, over here," I pulled him along, ignoring his nude form, and sat him down. "You okay."
"Y-Yes," he stared at me, blue eyes wide. He looked as though he was trying to remember something. I could almost feel him rolling through his programming, figuring things out. "You… you aren't Robotnik."
"And you technically aren't Snively," I told him, smiling as I handed him a towel. "But we take the roles we have to. Don't we?"
That was more than just a dumb line. It was a codeword, basically telling him who I was.
He blinked at me. Then he hesitantly started wiping himself down, looking like he was still reeling. "You couldn't have made me taller?"
"I did. By a full foot and a half. I can make you taller down the road if you want."
"I'll think about it," he said with all the dryness of a desert. He finished drying himself up and sighed. "So. You made me. Does that make you my father?"
"Oh, no. That just feels wrong," I scowled, shaking my head. "Consider me your boss and scientific partner from now on, okay?"
"Boss, hm. What comes with the job? Vacation days?"
"Later on, sure. Right now," I got up and grabbed a pile of clothes off a nearby table, tossing it towards him. He caught it out of the air. "It comes with clothes, a bed, and anything you might need."
"How generous," he put on a pair of underwear. "And look at that, you even gave me genitals."
Oh yeah, this really was the Boys universe if it could make a Sonic character say 'genitals'. Next Amy Rose would be telling me to fuck off.
"I'm not cruel enough to Ken Doll you," I sat against a desk, watching as he changed. "You know what we're in for?"
"Yes, yes, I do," he rolled his eyes, putting a shirt on. "Come now, man, I'm no fool. You designed me not to be. We'll be battling superhumans and we need to create weapons to fight back."
"For a lot of people to fight back," I corrected him. "Ahti wants us to clean up the world. We can't do that by ourselves. And creating an army of robots will just end in complications."
"You're afraid an AI may turn on you?" he asked.
"Wow, talk about a question with layers to it," I said with a sigh. "It is a worry, yes, because I refuse to make anyone who will just follow my orders without question, but I'll just hope that I'm making AI that are intelligent enough to realize being an evil dick like Ultron is dumb. But I'm more worried about the way people will think. An army of robots under my command? That's not going to end in anything but an army of supes coming after me in turn."
"True," he put a labcoat on, then stopped on the final piece of clothing, looking over at me. "...A false beard?"
"One of my memories of you showed you with a beard. I thought the glasses might help the look."
He hummed thoughtfully, placing the beard on, its materials attaching to his face. "Well, Mr. Julian Ivo. I can find no reason not to work with you. My only question is if you've built me an identity."
"Most of one. Fellow MIT kid, bit of an alcoholic-"
"Oh, great," he said sarcastically.
"You needed some bad history. It's why Ahti gave me an arrest for drug use in my teen years," I pointed out. "There's just one thing. I wanted you to choose your own name."
He froze. Then he pursed his lips. "Hm… I don't want to be called 'Snively' to be honest. That name lacks a sense of elegance to it."
"Agreed," I said, though I didn't say anything else.
He stood to his full height. Four feet tall, bald head, large nose, blue eyes, and a brown beard. He wore a suit and lab coat sized for him, as well as a pair of sturdy boots. He hummed.
"Colin Kintober," he said at last. "That was the real name of my human self. I'll take it for myself as well."
"...Dude, our names are so damn pretentious," I said with a sigh. "Julian. Colin. Remind me not to name Metal Sonic 'Quentin', or 'Xerxes'."
"I'm sure that won't be a problem," Colin snarked. "Now. What's next?"
"Next is simple," I turned and began walking. "We have you and me as our science team. Now I need to make a business manager. We're recreating Mecha Robotnik. She'll be needed."
"What fun," Colin said with real relish. "And after that?"
"We meet with the United States Military. And show them a portion of our real power."
4: T-X Ain't Shit
Chapter 4
In the Sonic Universe, Colin Kintober Jr., aka Snively Robotnik, was the nephew of Dr. Ivo Robotnik (formerly Julian Kintobor). A super-genius good enough to even challenge Eggman, though not really. Still, while he was not as smart as his uncle, he was a devious genius who could make some of the most incredible technology in existence when he applied himself.
The version I'd made was better though.
Colin Kintober was almost as smart as I was, by design. And I cheated by having Eggman's brain in my head.
So it didn't surprise me when his first thought when he saw my plans for selling computers was-
"Boring," he scowled, staring out at the computer factory. We stood on a catwalk above the assembly lines below, watching as various bits and bobs were created. "We'll just be designing and building computer parts? I assumed we would be making something interesting, Julian."
"You really think that you'll have anything to do with this?" I snarked. "I can handle the more generic technology just fine. Even my crappiest designs will be more than enough for this. I'm simply showing you where our initial profit will come from."
Colin looked a little annoyed. "As much sense as that makes, I'm eager to look into creating something concrete."
"We will. Come, this way."
I turned and walked off, forcing Colin to follow. "Our next creation is simple enough. But what we really need is building blocks."
"Creating the materials that will allow us to create more materials," Colin agreed. "I assume we will be working on mining as well? According to your notes, many of our necessary materials are going to be a chore to purchase."
"Creating some way to dig through the earth quickly and farm materials, yes, fortunately our janitorial benefactor already saw fit to provide us with the permits for such on my private island." I explained as I led him into the robotics laboratory.
Inside, workers were putting together a single robot. The first of a new line. One of the men nodded to me seriously as we passed, then did a double-take at the sight of Colin.
"Hey, boss. Who is this guy?" the worker asked.
"My new head of R&D," I said, drawing the attention of the others. "He's a fellow MIT grad and a good friend."
"Another egghead," one of the men said, drawing an identical huff of amusement from myself and Colin.
"You could say that. How goes the build?"
"Pretty well," one other man said, chuckling. "Gotta say, when you said we were building robots, I didn't expect you to start with a mini-Gundam."
"Please. Gundams are for next month, after the Armored Cores," I snarked.
"Armored-What?" another worker said, looking confused. "The hell is a Gundam?"
I almost fired him right then. Joking. Sort of.
"Carry on gentlemen, you've got lunch in twenty."
We walked off, the workers going back to assembling the new creation.
"I must admit, I expected something more eclectic," Colin said as he eyed the massive armored tank of a robot being created.
"Like a Moto Bug?" I asked jokingly.
"I'm partial to the Egg Pawn myself," Colin said back, before frowning. "Strange, having a repository of knowledge and no memory of how I gained it. Or is that normal, for someone like me?"
I looked back at him. "Do you… want me to build experiences for you? Give you memories of researching things, to give ties to the knowledge?"
"That would be appreciated," Colin said, his face unreadable.
We entered a back room, where a series of blueprints rested.
"So. We'll be making Mecha Robotnik?" Colin asked, the man's beard twitching in thought. "Will she be as combat capable as before?"
"She'll need to be," I said with a sigh. "Usually, I wouldn't go for that, since she only needs to be dangerous to business and lawyer-types. But in a world where any pissed-off supe will rip you in half or freeze your dick off, she needs to be strong. Even you have greater than human strength thanks to your myomer build."
"Which brings me to my next question," Colin narrowed his eyes. "Will you continue in this human body?"
I froze. "...What do you mean?"
"At some point, when the technology comes, you will be able to upload your full consciousness to a new body. Will you be working towards that? Because as of now, you are the most vulnerable part of your organization," Colin pointed out ruthlessly. "Anything goes wrong, an experiment explodes or turns on you, a supe attack, even a slip and fall. And all our work goes to waste."
"I know that."
"And yet, despite all of your work, I see no attempts to improve your own body," Colin looked over the blueprints. "No plans for cybernetic implants, no replacement organs, no attempt to replace your own musculature and skeletal structure."
"I don't need any of that," I scowled. "I'll stick with force fields and other tech for protection. Leave the brain uploading for later. Besides, the best way to protect myself is to never put my body in danger. Thus, our third project."
"Hm," Colin stroked his beard. "I see… Well. I still think you should prepare a worst-case scenario."
"Forgive me for being uneager to lose my body," I said sarcastically. "Fine, I'll begin working on something. For now… God, I hate the idea, but we can set something up using this project."
Colin nodded. "Well then, Julian. I suppose we should get to work, shall we?"
"Get to work might as well be my catchphrase by now," I said with a chuckle. "Yes. Let's get this finished."
------
Colin and I spent more time on our new creation than I had on Colin himself. But that made sense. This new body had more 'tools' inside of it. Plus, she was bigger.
Part of my work was very simple. I asked Mr. Addams for help.
------
"Brain scans?" Addams asked, looking intrigued. "I was wondering when you would come to us about that, but I wasn't expecting you to ask for ASW to be your second batch of subjects.
"Yes. I'd like to ask for volunteers among your team," I explained. "Part of my research is into developing AI," I said as though I hadn't already succeeded. "I don't want to scan anyone who isn't willing, but I did develop this," I placed something on his desk that looked like a VR headset. Oh yeah, I should make those at some point. Thought for later.
"So one simply places this on their head and it will scan their minds?" Addams asked, looking intrigued. Rather than uncomfortable, which is what I expected. "Hm."
He placed it on his head, surprising the hell out of me. "Mr. Addams!"
"What?" he said, looking at me with a smile. "You have tested this thoroughly, yes?"
"For days, over and over. Still though-"
"Oh, I'm sure it will be fine," the headset he was wearing beeped softly. "Now. How goes your robotics project?"
"Excellently," I hid my befuddlement at him as best as I could. "We have a viable product ready to show. I'm still working on my weaponry division as well, but that should be done soon."
"...How long ago did we meet, Mr. Ivo?" Addams asked as the headset beeped.
"...Two and a half weeks ago or so?"
"Two and a half weeks… And you've created a fully functioning robot for battle. Something mankind has been working on for decades. I've seen the first designs. You're ahead of the game in ways that border on godlike. I have to wonder just where you are getting such knowledge."
I leaned back, eyeing him. "I could say that it just comes with my genius, Mr. Addams. But do you think I spent all that time travelling the world twiddling my thumbs?"
"I'm sure you didn't… I'll reach out to those who work for me. We'll get you your volunteers."
I hid a sigh of relief. Good.
Soon enough, I'd have my perfect business partner to go along with my perfect research partner.
------
Colin was the one who made me realize my mistake with him. Knowledge without the memory and experience that came with it would make it hard for my new creation to do her job.
So I stole the experience.
My brain-scan device was created by Colin while I was building the new android body. With scans of dozens of lawyers, businessmen, and more, I had the experience I needed.
After that, it was all down to editing.
To tell the truth, almost every aspect of creating things made me feel like I was constantly running pong using an Iron Man suit. Using insane works of genius, only to be forced to use it for things that were FAR beneath them. I kept coming up with amazing creations, only to be forced to hold back and make something lesser because I hadn't created the base components just yet.
With that said, Mecha Robotnik would be one of my best creations next to Colin.
We put her together and prepared the upload of her software over the course of several days. Her memories were compiled using as many good ones as I could pull, with a focus on a combination of ruthlessness and morals.
Yes, those two things can exist together.
I also made sure she was clothed when she would wake up.
I made her, so I did see her naked, but I wasn't going to make her wake up to see two guys staring at her naked. She was my business partner, not a sexbot.
With everything prepped, Colin and I got ready for her to wake.
------
We stood in front of a table, watching our new creation slowly wake up.
"Was it like this when I woke?" Colin asked me as we watched the woman before us shift and move.
"No, you were a bit more whiny," I joked.
"Couldn't help it, your face was the first I ever saw."
Ouch.
"I-" the woman winced, slowly forcing herself to stand. She looked around at us, eyes widening. "I'm… I don't know what I'm supposed to-"
I moved forward, cutting her off, and kneeled a bit to meet her eye level. "Just breathe. Relax."
"I don't need oxygen," she said, slightly robotically.
"Breathe anyways," I said, hiding my happiness a bit.
Two. I made two androids! Not bad for a guy who barely knew his way around a screwdriver a while back.
She did as I asked, and I looked her over. She looked just like Eggman remembered her.
A creation he'd made later on in his career, Mecha Robotnik, AKA 'M', was a female bodyguard of sorts. He treated her almost as a daughter, and she acted with insane loyalty towards him… but Eggman was fooled into thinking she betrayed him. At a time when he was becoming enveloped in a paranoid rage. So he told her to self-destruct. And the ever loyal M did so. Then Eggman deleted all her backups, completely erasing any chance of her coming back.
She was also a badass who beat the living hell out of Sonic. Archie Sonic, an absolute unit above the other Sonics.
Loyal, badass, intelligent. She was caucasian in appearance, with short brown hair, a lithe and muscular build, seeming to be around 25-30 years of age. Her eyes were green flecked with blue, and she was wearing a simple business suit.
"You made me," she said, eyeing me carefully. "Julian Ivo. Formerly-"
I held up a finger, cutting her off. "Menneen talven lumia, my girl. The snow of the past winter. Focus on what's next."
She frowned but nodded. "Very well. Julian Ivo," she looked over at Colin, but before he could speak, she looked back at me. "Who… what is my name?"
"That's up to you," I held a hand out. She took it slowly, and I helped her up off the table. She balanced easily on her sneakers because fuck you if you think I'm going to make her wear high heels as her first pair of shoes. "Colin picked his name. How about you? Cause you might get some looks if you call yourself 'Mecha Robotnik'."
"Oh, I don't know, just pretend it's foreign and Americans will accept anything," Colin said dismissively.
"Colin, you were literally made in America."
"Untrue. Many of my components are Korean after all."
I scoffed but looked back at the young woman we'd created.
"...I can choose anything?" she looked over at Colin. "How did you choose?"
He looked startled, then thoughtful. "Oh. You see, when I was choosing I… wanted a name that would remind me of my purpose. What I wanted for the future."
That threw me for a loop. Okay, so then, why did he choose the name of a guy who tried to betray the OG Eggman?
"What I want for the future…" she looked at me. I felt a bit of nervousness at the intense look in her eyes. Maybe because it made me uncomfortable. Or because I'd installed the laser eyes currently staring at me. "That makes some sense. Very well. I've chosen a name."
"Okay, what do you got?"
"Mechelle Ivo."
"Michelle?"
"No. Mechelle. With an 'e' instead of an 'i'."
"..."
Colin looked over at me, hiding a smile.
"Is that a bad name?"
"Not at all. It works. Just, you know. Julian. Colin. Mechelle with an 'e' at the beginning."
She cocked her head to the side. "I'm not sure what you mean."
I decided to just let the continued theming of our pretentious names be a thing. Maybe I really would name Metal Sonic, 'Xerxes'...
"Well, one question. Do you really want to have the same last name as me?"
"Yes."
The word came out so firmly I was surprised. "Why?"
"I don't wish to say."
"Oh. W-Well, all right?"
I'd done my best when designing her to make her as loyal as the original. Was that why she wanted the same last name as me? Some sense of family relation?
"Well. Mechelle. Colin. I'm glad to work with you both. You guys ready to start kicking ass?"
"Quite literally made for it," Mechelle said seriously.
"Ha! Good one," Colin chuckled.
"It wasn't a joke. Part of my self-defense programming does allow for-"
"I'm fairly certain we designed you with more personality than this," Colin said with a frown.
"We are not conducting business with others. I am being 'myself'."
"Yourself is deadpan and robotic?"
"I think it suits me… much like your height suits you."
"WHY YOU-!?"
------
I walked into my room later that night, feeling satisfied. Two badass androids I could trust. Trust fully. I'd had to build a friend to be able to share my secrets with, but at least mine were sophisticated androids and not a volleyball with a bloody handprint on it.
I sat down at my desk and sighed. Someone passed me an energy drink. I took a hold of the drink and took a large sip, placing the fizzy drink on a coaster that had been placed for me.
"Feel better, ja?"
"Much bet-GAH!"
I swung around, scrambling to my feet.
Ahti chuckled in amusement, walking around the desk and sweeping as he went.
"Hello, Ivo. Well done. I thought you would be loppua kuin kananlento."
I ran through my Finnish. I thought I might meet him again, if not this soon, so I learned Finnish as best as I could.
"End like the flight of a chicken?"
His eyes lit up a bit and he smiled just a smidge wider. "Yes, yes. Good job. I have made a task board for you, here."
He pointed at a wall to our left. On the wall hung an old cork board with a single piece of paper resting there. It hadn't been there before. "I have a task. For you."
"Does it involve going home?" I asked sarcastically.
"Ahhh, but you are home, Mr. Ivo," he said, chuckling as he walked towards the door. For a moment, I wanted to hit him. He chuckled. "Now, now, now. Bark won't make a wound. It's all for the cleaning job. You did good. I even left you a present," he nodded towards my desk, where an old walkman rested. I stared at it before looking up again.
He was gone. For a moment, a sense of… water. Of cool and soothing water across my mind. With words echoing with them like ripples on a lake.
"And you finish that second set of pants you are making for yourself lad. You never know when you might need an extra pair."
Then he was gone. I scrambled to my feet, moving over to the task board and pulling off the paper there.
"...I was already going to do this, you crazy old man," I mumbled to myself, folding up the paper. Damnit. That was gonna complicate things.
I walked back to the Walkman while folding up the paper. I picked it up and placed the headphones on, grumbling to myself.
"One day I need to make something that can catch him. Just so that I can ask some questions on… what the hell?"
The music playing on the Walkman was… familiar. Very familiar. A very techno kind of beat.
Aboard the ARK, a genius at heart
Wanting to unlock the mysteries of life
I am the Eggman-
"Good lord, really!?" I said, rolling my eyes as E.G.G.M.A.N. by Paul Shortino continued to play. I hesitated, staring at the Walkman.
"...Take Control better be on this thing as well," I grumbled.
Then I sat down and started typing, bobbing my head.
5: A Bit Violent
About a week after her 'birth', Mechelle was speaking with Destiny Simmons, one of the lawyers that had been helping me for a long while.
They were in my office as I walked in, laughing. I walked over with a tray of coffee for them.
I'd been doing stuff like that a little. Small acts of generosity I didn't need to do. The last thing I wanted was to let the Eggman memories change me entirely. So anytime a thought like 'they might want coffee' hit me, I went out of my way to fulfill it.
Which was probably inherently selfish, only doing good things to hold onto my former self as I changed into someone else. But it was the best I had.
Julian Ivo was just as smart as Robotnik. But he wouldn't make his mistakes. I had the memories of a more humble man, and a Robotnik who had been fighting against Sonic and his friends for decades. I needed to hold onto that.
So yeah, I gave the ladies coffee.
"Julian, how could you have hidden Mechelle from me for so long?" Destiny asked me as I handed her a latte. She was chuckling a bit as she spoke. "She's an absolute delight."
"Oh, you know my cousin, he's such a secretive type," Mechelle said brightly. "But really, I think he just wanted to make sure he had his business in full swing. He was like that when we were kids. Never showed off an experiment unless he knew it was working. Though it still blew up in my face a time or two."
"It was a volcano, it was supposed to blow up," I grumbled.
"I can't imagine you as a kid," Destiny said, watching as I sat. "You act like such an old man sometimes."
"Oh, believe me, I can be quite childish," I chuckled. "It's why my business is starting off with the PC gaming industry. That said…"
Destiny's smile faded, and she nodded seriously. "Yes. Well, I've had word with some of our contacts in the military, and they are still agreeing to come tomorrow as you requested, especially after meeting Mechelle."
The last was said with a wide smile at my 'cousin', who looked pleased.
Mechelle had been hard at work since her creation. I had given her just as much authority as Colin had, but in a different direction. He was my Chief Operating Officer and Chief Technology Officer (COO and CTO), and Mechelle was my Chief Financial Officer and Chief Marketing Officer (CFO and CMO) both loaded with a few degrees from relevant colleges. I was President of IvoTech.
Mechelle, in her new role, hired a large cast of people under her, focusing on marketing our products to the public. She also spoke directly to the military types we were prepping to sell to.
"We'll be ready, Destiny," Mechelle said confidently. "I'm sure Julian's creations will blow them out of the water."
"I have no doubt about that," Destiny said, looking over at me. "Just be ready to have the men who come try anything and everything to make you look bad. I tried my best, but one or two of the generals very explicitly 'do not have financial ties to certain weapons manufacturers who supply them hookers.'"
"Always nice to know you can trust governments to be as corrupt as possible," I snarked. "Still, I have no problems with dealing with morons. My technology will stand for itself. I guarantee you that it will be a hell of a show."
------
The next day, I stood outside on our training range with Mechelle and Colin. Formerly a track to test cars on, it currently had a series of targets down range from us made of gelatin, as well as two pig carcasses hanging on ropes. There were also some large pieces of armor plating and brick walls. Next to us was a table holding a variety of objects. Aside from this there were also a few "random" items scattered about the remaining road track.
The three of us stood watching a group of generals and a small security unit of soldiers walk up with Destiny Simmons at the head of them. Four older looking men, wearing their formal uniforms, representing the Army, Navy, Air Force, and Marines, leading a group of very tough and young looking men and women carrying guns. I looked over at Colin.
"You ready for your part?"
"Yeeees," Colin said with some relish, a wide smile stretching his face. He walked off at a quick pace, entering a large warehouse recently built on our training range.
"Well, he doesn't lack for eagerness," I mused to myself, watching him disappear into the large warehouse before turning to Mechelle. "How about you?"
"I am ready to serve as needed," she said, her eyes never leaving me. Same as always.
God. That weird subservience of hers. I'd added a strong sense of loyalty to her programming, but not unless it was deserved, and not to this level of… It was unnerving and worrying. I wanted her to be her own person.
Then everyone got close enough. Mechelle transformed in an instant. Her eyes came alight. Her stance loosened up, becoming more open and inviting. She smiled with her whole face, highlighting the beauty I had given her, while still having just enough imperfections to keep her from being 'uncanny valley'.
I hid my thoughts as best as I could. I'd made Colin and Mechelle. So why did they confuse me so much sometimes?
"Gentlemen," Destiny said as she joined us. "Dr. Julian Ivo, the President of IvoTech, and Mechelle Ivo, his CFO. This is General Nathan Bradley, US Army, Lieutenant William Renquist, Air Force-"
I let the names roll past, listening closely and filing them one by one until Destiny finished, then holding out my hand for them. "Pleasure to meet you all."
"I'm sure it is," General Bradley said with some skepticism. "You're the one with all the fancy tech."
I could see that he and his fellow hard bitten soldier types weren't exactly on board with what I was selling. I couldn't blame them. I was promising a lot for a VERY good price. And they hadn't seen more than some basic mock-ups.
"I am indeed," I told him, not minding the look on their faces.
"And I'm the one who keeps him afloat," Mechelle said with a smile, walking up to shake his hand as well. "It's good to meet you, sir. I hope we'll be able to show how much we can help our boys get home safe."
Bradley looked at Mechelle. I guess he was trying to find some sort of lie in her eyes, checking if she was a snake-oil salesman. Instead, he seemed to warm. Like a grandfather meeting a treasured grandchild.
"Well uh… we'll see, all right?"
Mechelle looked like she'd been promised a pony, and Bradley smiled just a bit.
"Mechelle is quite right," I told the group of soldiers. "I know what you're thinking. 'He's just an idiot scientist here to talk to us about expensive science pipe dreams'. I'd like to say I'm different from everyone who has come to you with these sorts of promises, but that's a waste of air. So how about I let you grab a gun and practice with it?"
I turned and pointed at the weapons behind me. "These are my first line of products. I know it's tradition to give them letters and numbers for a name, so I'll call them the IM-01s. Named for myself and my wonderful cousin."
I picked one of them up, taking care to point the barrel at the ground. It was shaped like a gun from my memories, a rifle commonly in use by the soldiers of GUN. It didn't help them against me, but my version was better anyways. It was a smooth and well-lined device, made with an especially strong plastic I'd made myself, with an optional scope lying on the table. The one the private was holding was mostly black and white.
"She's something of a lesson from rifles of the past. We all know what a good gun needs. Simplicity. Don't shove a bunch of random hardware into it, don't try and give it super-special bullets. Just make something that works every time you pull the trigger. It needs to put bullets downrange as fast, accurately, and with as much power as possible.
"Thus, the IM-01 fires the good old standard 5.56 rounds. But it fires them with almost no recoil, has reduced barrel friction and special rifling for increased bullet velocity and accuracy, an improved cycling mechanism for increased rate of fire, rugged construction capable of handling extended magazines and varying cartidge pressure, ambidextrous design and it's more lightweight than any other gun on the market, and is made with so few moving parts that even the most idiotic man in the world can repair and clean it in the field."
I handed it to one of the privates standing there. When he looked at General Bradley, the older man nodded, and the private shouldered his own weapon to grab the IM01.
"Take a shot at the pig downrange," I said. "Aim for as small a target as you can. Got it?"
"You sure?" the guy asked skeptically, lifting the gun in hands. "It's pretty far. I ain't exactly a sniper."
"You don't need to be."
"Just shoot the damn pig, Johnson," one of the men, a Sergeant in the Marines, said with a bit of annoyance. "And call your shot."
The private shrugged, lifted it up. "All right. Aiming for it's eye."
Wow, he must have really been skeptical it would work, aiming for a target that small.
He pulled the trigger. And with the slightest movement of the rifle and a bang a bullet smacked into the pigs forehead. And blew through it with ease, piercing the flesh nice and cleanly. The pig swung gently back and forth.
"Holy shit," the private said, sounding mildly shocked. He looked back at us. General Bradley was frowning thoughtfully. "Sir, should I-"
"Yeah, hit the gelatin next."
"You want to have a few more of your people try?"
"What the hell. Samson, Vasquez!"
The two soldiers, one a tall built white man, the other a more petite and muscular Latina woman, stepped forward and grabbed the guns on the table.
"What's this?" Vasquez asked, holding up a shotgun.
"The IM-02, because I wasn't allowed to call it the 'Devastator'," I said.
"Marketing says letters and numbers work better," Mechelle said.
"Anyways, I planned on making a shotgun that had no recoil, but that's for down the road. I don't want to make something that forces soldiers to relearn everything about guns. So this will have just enough kick to feel familiar, without being annoying. I would say I managed to reduce it by about 70% give or take. Semi-auto shotgun, and will actually take a conventional magazine without problems. Rugged as hell, accurate as hell, and light as hell."
Vasquez frowned. Then she put the stock to her shoulder and aimed at one of the ballistic gel targets shaped like a person. She fired once, twice, over and over, until she'd emptied the magazine entirely. By the time she was done, the former ballistic being was torn to pieces.
"Ohhhh. Mama like," Vasquez said with a grin.
"Go ahead and reload, I got enough ammo to play with," I said with a chuckle.
"How about this?" Samson said, looking more excited than before, holding up his own rifle for me to see.
"A 7.62mm marksman rifle," Samson aimed the gun. "Made for the times you can't be arsed to walk any closer to someone.
He lifted the gun to his shoulder and started firing, aiming for the eyes of the ballistic targets. After shooting those out, he aimed at the holes he'd made as well, shooting as quickly as he could until he ran out of ammo, then reloaded.
"I'd like you to notice, gentleman, the Ivo goal of simplicity. Make things that work. Reload smooth, fire smooth, and hit whatever you aim at. Now, try this."
I handed Samson another rifle, this one with blue tape on the magazine. "Armor piercing rounds."
Stepping back I pointed downrange towards a large piece of metal erected in the distance.
"Now, take a look at that armor plating. Same type used in many older light armored vehicles. You ever watch Police Academy?"
Samson grinned, lifting the gun. Firing as fast as he could pull the trigger, he released a hail of bullets down range. When he was done, he lifted the gun with a grin.
A near identical grin was etched into the piece of armor across the way.
Private Johnson was pouring bullets into a brick wall, and Private Vasquez ripped into the rest of the pig.
"They're much quieter than I expected," Bradley said, watching the carnage. "How do they feel, Johnson?"
"Like a dream, sir," he said, reloading with ease and grinning at us. "Too bad we won't be using these for a while. They must be expensive as hell."
"They cost as much to make as the standard model currently being made and manufactured by your suppliers," I said mercilessly.
Bernard's eyes widened, and one of the military brass let out a whistle.
"Of course, we could be talked into a discount," Mechelle said with a small chuckle. "Depending on the contract we make."
"Now hold on," a man in an Air Force uniform said, looking annoyed. John Chambers. He had a few 'under the table' dealing with various weapons manufacturers, but was also a hard-headed sort in general. "You make a few prototypes and you're already talking about selling these? How do we know they won't simply shatter apart the first time they get into a real weapons test? We're supposed to look at three guns-"
He stopped when the workers came up. Six large burly types. Pushing a rack of weapons, with 30 guns shining in the light. A redhead named Ella gave me a grin.
"Got your guns boss."
"Thank you, Ella," I grinned at John Chambers. "You want a real weapons test? Go right ahead. Smash them into the ground, shove dirt into them, cover them in literal feces. And these aren't prototypes, Mr. Chambers. I have a full line of them ready to go. I'll make better models one day, but right now these are top-of-the-line. As well as this."
I took a large handgun off the rack, one of many. "The IM-04. Now, this isn't a true replacement for the current handguns on the market. What it has, is the ultimate in soundproofing technology."
One of the soldiers took it from me. Then he started firing. And while the gun wasn't exactly whisper-quiet, it certainly didn't hit 95 DBS. Quieter than even the 136 DB Maxim 9.
Then I stepped forward. John Chambers was taller than me. Built like an old soldier. And he seemed to shrink at my approach.
"I would also appreciate it if you wouldn't question my skills. Like I said. I know the type you've been dealing with. And I am not them. Do you understand, Mr. Chambers, the type of manyou are dealing with?"
The last was said with more heat than I expected. Because John Chambers backed away from me. There was a dark satisfaction in me, as I watched a lesser being falter. I could see the sweat on his brow, a momentary shiver before he brought himself back.
Then it was gone. And I turned around, hiding how uncomfortable I was. Mechelle met my eyes. I looked away first, looking back at the soldiers.
The various soldiers moved to grab their own guns as their commanding officers walked through it. John Chambers gave me a wide-eyed look, then walked over to join the others.
I walked over to join them. "Now. Gentlemen. These current weapons are impressive. But I saved something else for last. Something I think you will find… interesting. My Chief Technology Officer, Colin Kintobor, is in that warehouse in my... expensive science pipe dream, I guess we'll call it."
"That must be my cue."
The ground shook. The soldiers around us snapped their weapons upwards. Mechelle and Destiny watched calmly as the doors of the warehouse slid open silently on oiled hinges.
"Boom. Boom."
The echo of footsteps, grinding gears, and twisting servos filled the air. Colin and I agreed. Making the first entrance loud and impressive was much more important than showing how quiet it could be.
"Standing five meters and fifty one centimeters tall, with green painted carbon-fiber and steel structure, a cockpit of transparent aluminum, with my patented synthetic myomers, thank you for that Mrs. Simmons," she gave a proud nod. "Acting as musculature within the machine, giving it a speed and fluid movement unmatched in the field of robotics."
I grinned widely as all the brass seemed to drop their collective jaws. The machine in question was bipedal, it's armored feet like the talons of a massive hawk. It's 'torso' was shaped like that of a military aircraft, the emblem of an 'IV' shining on the side. A pair of massive box-shaped missile launchers sat on its shoulders. And inside, Colin could be seen grinning like a madman, a red scanner visor over his left eye.
"The F-6t 'Big Foot' - Ground Air Combat Walker. Show them what you got, Colin!"
At my call, the android super-genius laughed. "Yes! I will show them what I've got indeed!"
The massive machine spun on its heel. And started running. "Now, the problem with most current bipedal models, theoretical as they are, made by my competitors is a lack of speed, strength and power. Let's see how the Big Foot moves."
"Jesus Christ," one woman mumbled as Big Foot twisted around and started sprinting. It jumped over a knee height obstacle, then did a much larger jump over an average height wall, before hopping sideways to get around a pillar, all in smooth and quick moves.
That was where the ridiculousness lay. An immense amount of power was flowing through the Big Foot, feeding electricity to myomer inside him. It made it a very quick robot. As well as a powerful one.
Another wall blocked it. Rather than try to jump around it, the Big Foot smashed through the wall and kept going with only a bit of scratched paint to show for it.
"Gentlemen. Could you please fire at Colin?" I asked the group. "Use whatever you wish."
"Uh… is that safe?" a man in Navy blues asked.
"Oh, entirely."
Still hesitant, one woman put down one of the IM-01's and lifted her own rifle, firing.
The bullets bounced off the robot. Colin laughed inside the cockpit. "More! Show me more!"
"You heard the man," Bradley said.
The soldiers lifted up guns, including some of the IMs. Firing quickly, the bullets smacked across the Big Foot. Colin stood still for a moment, allowing them to shoot the main body, the transparent aluminum cockpit, and the legs.
When they finished, they had made a mess of the paint job but inflicted no other real damage.
Then I held up a hand. "Okay. Now. It's fast. It can handle an entire fireteam of bullets thanks to being at least as well armored as any main battle tank you care to name while being even faster and more maneuverable. And it can be piloted by a single man," I saw that realization spread. Piloted by one man. Instead of an entire tank crew.
We let that sit before Mechelle spoke. As she did, workers wheeled out more ballistic gel targets, putting them downwind of us. "But how much damage can it do besides just squishing combatants under its feet?"
"A fantastic question. Colin?"
"Ohhhh, yes!"
He spun around, aiming at the new targets. Thankfully long after my employees were well behind some ballistic shields with us.
"These are also for sale, by the way," Mechelle pointed out as we went behind the large square transparent walls. "Made of the same aluminum as our cockpits."
"Sweetie, time and a place."
"Yes sir," she said with a chuckle.
Colin piloted the mech closer to the targets. On the front of it, just under the nose, a large set of barrels began spinning quickly.
"Standard M61 Vulcan cannon derivative," I explained.
Colin unleashed hell. The vulcan cannon unleashed hell down wind, ripping through the remains of the pigs, then tearing into a ballistic gel form, sending false organs exploding apart. He walked around as he fired, moving back, forth, side to side, quickly, then slowly. It wasn't just random. It was to show how accurately it could fire while on the move, how it easily handled the recoil.
Then the missile pods on the mech's shoulders opened up.
"I was unable to obtain any AGM-176 Griffins obviously, so I made mockups. But the launchers are made for it."
The missile pods unleashed hell. I turned my back on the explosions to face the group of military men, smiling confidently. "I know, it's not the best I could give you. But hopefully this humble first showing lets you know what we're capable of. And if you want to make sure we aren't just blowing smoke, then you are free to test all of our equipment extensively."
"WAHAHAHA! YES! PERISH BEFORE ME YOU CRETINS! NO TARGET STANDS!" Colin roared happily as he continued to unleash hell, the last of his missiles exploding.
"Excuse Colin, gentlemen. He is quite excitable," I nodded to Mechelle, who nodded.
"By the way, gentlemen," she said, drawing their attention. "I'm sure you all want to test these yourselves. So Ivotech is allowing you to take all of these home, free of charge. Including the Big Foot."
Stunned silence followed her words.
All in all, I'd say it was a pretty good presentation.
------
Afterward, Simmons took us out for drinks. We went to a bar downtown together, sitting down with Colin, Mechelle, and E-Boy, who sat in a corner watching over us.
"I'm not really comfortable here," I told Simmons as we waited for our drinks.
"Oh, come on, be more excited!" she said, looking proud as hell. "You guys just blew it out of the park. I mean, I knew that was going to go well, but I never imagined you guys would do… I mean, that!"
"I explained quite clearly what my goal is, Mrs. Simmons," I said with a smirk. "Today wasn't some grand breakthrough to us. It's the slow start before we show what we can really do, our steps onto the stage of-"
"Okay, I'm not drunk enough for this," Simmons looked up, waving her hand. "Oy, hurry up please!"
Well…
As I sat there miffed, Mechelle patted my back. "It's okay, cous. We still did really well."
"I still say you shouldn't have offered such a big discount," Colin said with a bit of annoyance. "Those weapons are worth ten-fold what we promised to sell the first batch for."
"Price of doing business," Mechelle pointed out.
"Pretty much," Simmons added seriously. "We're fighting an uphill battle. A new company, with new weapons, promising impossible things. If you want your company to become a big weapons manufacturer of the US military soon, you need to come out swinging, and you need your weapons to spread among the literal rank-and-file. Let them start turning the tide in real fights and you'll see a lot more demand for your supply."
She chuckled as the waiter came over with a tray of drinks. "But for now, relax guys! We made a big deal today."
Colin relaxed a bit, grabbing his glass of scotch. "Yes, I suppose so. Forgive my rudeness, Mrs. Simmons. I am happy with the progress we have made."
"Insanely fast progress," she pointed out.
"Ah, it's all because of my cous," Mechelle said with a smile. "He's the brilliant one."
I fought off a bit of imposter syndrome at that, but nodded. "Well, I spent a lot of time creating these things. Just nice to actually apply my research. Hopefully one day I can fulfill my ultimate goal…"
"And what is that?" Simmons asked curiously.
Technically, depose Vought and become the most powerful organization in the world. But I couldn't just admit that. So…
"Create a space program," I said with a smile. "A private space program. Made to explore the solar system, make stations across the stars, mine the asteroid belt and more."
"Damn, you don't aim small, do you?" Simmons noted.
"We live in a world of-"
"Hey, come on!" someone shouted at the bar.
We all looked over at the shouter. My eyes widened.
"...of superhumans," I finished. "And anything is possible."
The shouter at the bar was a very large and muscular black man. He was wearing a black spandex suit of sorts, with armored panels across the shoulders, chest, and thighs with ornate looking designs along his body. I recognized him from both my world and the news.
Nubian Prince, a supe with superhuman strength, speed, agility, and durability. AKA, knockoff Black Panther. What was he doing in New York City? He was supposed to be in Detroit...
Right now he looked annoyed. Well, pissed off, honestly. And drunk. Very drunk.
Once people realized who was there, they pulled out their phones and started filming and taking pictures. He didn't pay attention, because he was yelling at the bartender. I couldn't hear everything, but the next part was very loud.
"-know who the fuck I am!?"
"I'm sorry, but James called ahead," the bartender said with a bit of fear in his eyes. "You're cut off for the night."
The large man snarled, looking more enraged by the second. "Bitch, if you-"
"Sir, please!" the bartender backed up, hands high.
Nubian Prince glared at him. Then his eyes panned around. I could see him noticing the cameras around him. I could imagine him thinking about the optics of the situation. Drunk hero, yelling at a bartender for more alcohol? That was bad enough. Doing more would lead to his precious 'points' getting lowered. And while Nubian Prince was popular, he wasn't a member of the Seven. Vought wouldn't do more than the basics to protect him.
He turned away, plastering a painfully fake smile on his face, and walked towards the door. "Fine. That's fine. Have a good rest of your night-"
He walked past E-Boy and bumped into E-Boy's fist. E-Boy let out a small 'Scrunch' of surprise and shuffled out of the way-
BOOM!
I hadn't been worried. That was my mistake. I'd thought that it was such a small and simple thing. He bumped into E-Boy. That was it. Nothing worth noting.
Then Nubian Prince's face twisted in rage and frustration, eyes snapping to E-Boy. He swung his fist downward in a swift move. His fist smashed into the steel frame of E-Boy.
He was made to withstand a lot. But Nubian Prince was stronger than that. E-Boy bent in half under the fist, crumbling. "SCREEEEE-"
His voice box cut off. The lights went out.
The entire bar stilled at the sudden burst of violence. Nubian Prince scoffed, wiping some oil off of his fist onto the wall, then walked out without a look back.
Mechelle looked horrified. Colin gaped at the door then looked over at me. "Julian… I-"
I rose to my feet slowly. "Mechelle. Gather what you can."
"Yes sir," she said, quickly walking over to E-Boy.
"Julian," Simmons' face was stern. "I know you're angry, but-"
I looked at her. She froze, sinking back into her seat. I walked up to the male bartender.
"Drinks are on Julian Ivo," I pulled out my checkbook and began writing on it. "For the rest of the night in the name of fuck that guy," I handed him the check, with a large number written on it, and turned dramatically as I handed it to him. "So drink as much as you all like, and everytime you do, say Fuck Nubian Prince!"
I doubted anyone cared about my sudden hate-on towards the hero, but the promise of all the drinks they wanted led to a loud and boisterous cheer across the popular bar. I turned to the bartender.
"And anything left on that is your tip, understand?" I asked the bartender.
"T-Thank you man," he asked, shocked.
"You're welcome," I turned and walked out. Mechelle followed silently, easily carrying the remains of E-Boy. Colin hopped from his seat, and Simmons hurriedly gathered her purse and followed as well.
Once we were outside, I spoke quickly. "Colin, take a look at E-Boy once we can get to the lab, see what you can salvage."
"Understood," he said, for once without any snide backtalk.
"Mechelle, I want you to look into the social media accounts of every person there. I want you to ruin that man's reputation. There should be some 'cute' footage of E-Boy from his time at the factory. Remember, Nubian Prince was apparently cut off for a reason. Look into his past, see what sort of reputation he has with Detroit's local bars."
"He'll be known as a violent drunk by the end of the week," Mechelle agreed.
"Make sure to leave more in case the Church of the Collective tries to pull him and rebuild his reputation," Simmons pointed out, looking a bit startled but quickly recovering.
"Excellent point. Now, legal ramifications?"
"E-Boy was insured. Beyond that, he was also an extremely valuable prototype. We can easily sue for damages."
"I can also make sure it looks like he knew what he was doing when he broke him," Mechelle said. "Some quick camera angles."
"Good. And Vought?"
Simmons coughed. "They'll… probably try to figure something out. Nubian Prince isn't a huge money-maker, but he does pull down some cash. That said… I know a couple guys who work for them."
"You're being surprisingly helpful," Colin noted.
"I hate drunk assholes. And I don't like how fucking invincible supes act when they screw people over," Simmons eyes were filled with just a bit of glee, the black woman grinning. "So yeah. Let's ruin him."
Intellectually, I knew I shouldn't have cared that much. E-Boy was replaceable. Obsolete.
But I was a man who was made of two sides. One, an emotional man who thought of E-Boy as an adorable pet, his first and only companion in the new world. The other, a vicious son of a bitch who saw a fucking supe treat his property like trash.
Combined, it led to an icy sensation across my mind, burning like the touch of frost on the skin. A single thought. Destroy him.
We walked into the night, planning to turn a minor superhero into a living pariah. More importantly. I decided it was time to get project Robotnik started.
Time to play supervillain.
"What a productive life I lead… Hehehehehe…"