"Perfect," the blonde doctor purrs, admiring the equipment. A long slab of metal sits in the center of the silver steel-plated room; one end is open, with nothing hanging on or around it, but the other end bears a large metal clasp, currently hanging open, meant to hold someone's head in place. It bore wheels, of course, set on a track in the floor which led directly to the second part of the machine, a large ovular dome laid on its side. Metal arms within it hand suspended, poised to work, parallel to the ground. Medusa runs a hand across its clear surface, smiling. All that's missing is...

"He's on his way," a rough voice sounds from behind her, as if reading her mind. She turns to smile at Robotnik, who was dressed in black and red scrubs mirroring his normal outfit, standing by the door. Beside him, cabinets and drawers filled with various devices line the wall; he begins to walk forward as he speaks. "Any moment now, the EggBat will dock with our base, and..." He trails off, both his words and feet grinding to a halt as he notices Medusa stifling a fit of giggles. "What's so funny?"

"The EggBat? Really? EggBat?!" No longer trying to hide her laughing, she cackles aloud, "Someone should really stop you from naming things."

"What do you mean?" He protests, "It's a perfect name! Everything has to be related to Eggs--to keep that Sonic from making cracks about my weight, I've taken his petty nickname for me and made it my brand name!" He puffs himself up proudly. "So, everything has "Egg" in it when I name it. And since the Bat is stealthier than the Hawk, I thought--" the evil doctor stops, biting his lip. "Huh. It really does seem silly, doesn't it?"

"Quite," Medusa chuckles, her laughter dying down. "Anyways, that's not the important thing right now." Her eyes flash bright yellow as she looks up at him, grinning. "What is important is our project's conclusion."

"Indeed," he smiles back hungrily. "I can hardly wait."

"Sir, Project Shadow has arrived." A robot calls from the hallway, standing stiffly in the doorway. "The EggBat just finished docking."

"Bring him here, quickly!" Robotnik barks, and the metal being shuffles down the hallway rapidly. Turning back to Medusa, he continues, "Hurry, we need to prep this space for him."

"Right," she replies, walking over to a set of rollable tables. Rapidly she pulls various sharp implements out of nearby drawers as Robotnik checks the machinery to ensure everything is running perfectly. Within a few moments, tools of surgery are lined up from smallest to largest on each table, and monitors have risen from the steel-plated floors to stand beside Robotnik's machination, their screens a cool blank blue. As if on cue, the moment the blonde doctor steps back from the two tables, a set of five robots march in, carrying the unconscious ebony and crimson hedgehog in their hands. Silently, they place him on the table, clamping the ring around his forehead in a precise manner. Excitement flickers in Medusa's heart as she steps forward; the robots remove Shadow's gloves and shoes, leaving only the gold bands behind.

"Good, good," Robotnik snarls as the robots exit, a malicious grin spreading across his face. He picks up a flat rod, glowing faintly blue, and waves it over the wristbands; they flash crimson, and his limbs flatten as if being pulled closer to the metal table. "Now the real fun begins!" He cackles as a steel plate in the floor shifts to the side, and with a clank of gears turning, a lever rises into place; the evil doctor grabs it, then turns to her. "Are you ready?"

Medusa smiles her serpentine grin, tugging the tables she prepped earlier over to the hedgehog. "Of course." Her soul shivers in delight at the thought of what is to come, as Robotnik pulls the lever. The slab holding Shadow rattles forward on its wheels, thudding into place with the top of his head in the chamber, and a small 'kshh' noise of air pressurizing signals the dome's closing.

"We need to work quickly," the mustachioed doctor growls, his face set and determined.

Medusa picks up a scalpel, twirling it between her fingers playfully. "Too bad I can't take my time and enjoy this," she pouts, stepping closer to the hedgehog, "I do so love hearing his screams of prolonged agony." Pressing the knife to his wrist, she sighs. "I suppose this will have to do." Her cohort steps over to the monitors and begins tapping here and there; the mechanical arms whirr to life, and begin to crackle with red energy. With a sharp flick of her wrist, she slashes open his arm, grinning maniacally.

"Here we go," Robotnik grits his teeth, speaking in a grim tone, turning to face a robot Medusa hadn't noticed earlier, standing near a switch on the wall. "Now! Connect to the Master Emerald and give us enough power to do this!" Wordlessly, the machine obeys, flipping the switch, and a loud hum throbs into the room.

----------------
Meanwhile, planetside...

A beam of light arcs across the sky, followed by a loud BOOM, drawing the world's attention. Sonic leaps up from his chair where Tails had told him to lie down for a few minutes after using the Chaos Emeralds to repair his ribs; heedless of the pain, the azure hedgehog springs to his feet, yelling, "What the--?!"

"Sonic!" Tails yells from the balcony, bursting out their front door, tablet in hand. "Sonic, that energy is heading right for Angel Island!"

"WHAT?!" Knuckles screeches, furious, as the small fox dashes down the stairs as rapidly as his legs will allow.

"No time for outrage!" Sonic snaps, "Let's just go!"

"Wait, Sonic!" Tails calls out, leaping down the last two steps. "We need to go where the energy is originating from--" he holds up his tablet. "--because that beam of light is drawing energy from the Master Emerald back to... some other place!"

"Got it," the sapphire hedgehog grins. "Let's grab the Tornado." The orange fox nods, looking determined, and dashes off towards the garage around back with Knuckles in tow; Sonic pauses to look back at the arc of light.

Their two-story beach resort holds all of their equipment on the bottom floor, which is essentially one large garage/workbench for Tails. The upper floors are residential, mostly, save for Tails' World Monitor, a device utilizing the world's satellites to keep track of Robotnik activity across the planet. The bi-plane's engine sputters to life, drawing Sonic's attention back to the ground; dashing around the corner, he leaps onto the plane's tail as it passes him. "Let's go!" He cheers as they take off, speeding through the sky towards whatever or whoever dares to mess with the Master Emerald.

--------------

"It's working!" Medusa sings gleefully, watching as raw Chaos energy is channeled into the machine. She stands over Shadow's limp body at his right side, grinning down at his sleeping form. In one hand, she holds a series of needles and wires, all leading to the machine holding all of the Chaos energy. "It's working, it's working!"

"Just hurry up and infuse him with it already!" Robotnik, stressed-out, barks at her from his position by the machine. The mechanical arms, fueled by Chaos energy, whirr and clank as they begin to delicately cut through the top of Shadow's skull, moving slowly and precisely. The blond doctor glares sharply, then grins evilly as she leans across and jabs a needle into his left wrist violently, drawing blood from the incision she created earlier. He flinches in his dream, eyebrows twitching, and she giggles maniacally yet again, thrusting the second one into his right arm. Clenching his teeth, he lets out a soft, sleepy snarl, but she ignores it, stabbing a needle into his jugular. He coughs, but doesn't wake, and she grimaces angrily. It would be more fun for her if he woke up, but from the looks of it he's still too influenced by the drugs. Sighing, she dejectedly stabs the last two needles into his ankles, stepping back for a moment. "Good work, Medusa," Robotnik praises, "Now flip that other switch over there," nodding to one on the wall opposite him, he grins, "and the real fun can begin."

"Gladly!" She chirps, dashing over to it as if taking too long would bring about the end of the world. The moment she flips the switch, the wires protruding from the needles glow an angry red, and Shadow lets out a howl of agony. Simultaneously, Robotnik's machine-arms finish slicing his head open, exposing his delicate brain slightly, and the impossibly thin claws it wields delve deep into its soft pink tissue, drawing more horrified screams from him.

"Perfect!" Eggman cries, flinging his hands up into the air. "Stupendous! Wonderful!" A massive sadistic beam disfigures his face, and Medusa smiles too, trotting cheerfully back to the hedgehog. "Everything is going smoothly so far, and Sonic's plane is off on a wild goose chase to our abandoned Air Fortress, according to my sources!"

"Good," the blonde doctor purrs, tracing a finger across Shadow's brows. "When is it that I get to play with the little one?" She coos, swirling her finger round and round through his fur.

"Once my machine is done scrambling him, you can do whatever you need to," the mustachioed genius replies sternly, "but don't go overboard. Break him, but do so without completely destroying him. In other words, make him miserable, not dead."

"Ooh, that's one thing I'm good at," she giggles evilly, digging her nails into Shadow's skin.

"Glad to hear it," he answers, pressing a button on the console in front of him. The twisted metal arms suddenly throb with bright green energy, a different sort of power from the one Medusa imbued in the hedgehog's bloodstream.

Shadow screams in terror and agony, his voice cracking with its intensity as he tries to escape; his eyes fly open, but they're glazed, unseeing, but filled with panic and fear. "STOP! NO! PLEASE, PLEASE LET ME KEEP JUST A SHRED OF--" He chokes on his own saliva, wheezing, his voice strangled as he tries to continue, "P-P-Please--!"

"Shhh," Medusa whispers, cutting him off, running her hand across his face, covering his eyes. He gasps in horror, breathing roughly, too terrified to speak. "Go to sleep, darling."

-------------------

All I can see is green, bright green light all around me... Pain, agony, a sensation of the inside of my skull burning...agony, agony...Where am I? Who am I? God, please, no, no, just....just let me keep something.... A shred of myself.... My sanity.... What's going on? Who am I? Why can't I remember? I don't know anything... The moment I think I have it, it slips through my grasp.... Please...Please! Why are you doing this?! Where am I?! ....Why can't I feel anything but the pain?!

Agony soars through me, red-hot, unbearable. I can't remember how I got here, or maybe I never knew. The second I seem to remember something, it's ripped away from me, and I don't know what I've forgotten, but I do know one thing. I am afraid. I am terrified, I don't know where I am. I can't see anything. I hear someone laughing, a woman I think. The pain clouds my thoughts, making it difficult to process what's going on. I don't understand. What's happening to me? Something surges, just beneath my skin, and I feel it clawing at me, searching for a way out. I just want to tear myself open, rip my skin to shreds until the agony stops, but I can't move.

"What's going on?" I hear a woman say, sounding slightly concerned. Who are you?

A deeper voice answers, sounding frantic, "It's the Chaos energy--his other powers are fighting it!"

Then, a voice I know all too well, one that strikes fear into my heart, hisses in my ear, "I told you I would protect you... You will thank me later."

"No..." I choke out. "Stop... Please just...make the pain stop..." There's a pause, but the burning beneath my skin eases as the voice snarls:

"Whatever you say...But you will regret this later."

The world freezes as I feel myself slipping into an abyss. A sensation like falling seizes me, but I don't struggle; any place is better than this one. The green slowly fades, replaced by blackness. I think I open my eyes, but I can't tell--everything's a deep darkness. I twist and turn, looking for a change, a difference in the void, something. Anything that could be a way out of this hell. Agony still throbs in my head, and traces of lingering pain spark like static across my skin. I feel weak, exhausted, trembling with fear.

"Why won't you just let me help you?" A vicious, despairing voice snarls in my ear, and I gasp involuntarily as cold claws wrap around my throat from behind me. "I keep trying and trying, and now you've let them hurt you. I could have stopped that energy, I could have--"

"You could have torn me apart," I rasp, struggling to breathe. "I could feel it--your little war with whatever the hell they just put into me was killing me."

Their grip tightens, and I choke. Harsh whispering rattles in my ears, like a million voices speaking at once--while I hear "I could make your life a living hell," I also hear, "Your body is merely a vessel."

"I could make you suffer."

"No one can save you."

Confused, I twist, trying to figure out if there's two different people here, but I can't see anything. All I know is something's clamped around my throat, and the whispers keep getting faster and faster, hissing and growling in my ears, hateful words bleeding into my brain. I squeeze my eyes shut, feeling myself lose consciousness. The voices overwhelm me, drowning out all thought, all else, the only thing I know is them and the agony as I float away. To where, I don't know. But I know I'm moving...Maybe I'm dying?

Wait, no... I've stopped moving. I'm lying on something hard and rough. My eyelids twitch, and slowly I regain feeling in my body. With a groan, I force my eyes open a crack, my vision blurred. In front of me are varying shades of grey--some more blue, some more brown. My eyelids feel like they've been sealed shut with glue, but it's the cheap kind you find on get-well cards, hackneyed Hallmark sayings tacked onto crappy cardboard so poorly made that you could peel the decorations off with one finger, without even trying all that hard. I move one arm--my right arm is pinned beneath me, a cold metal band around its wrist digging into my aching ribcage. Forcing my eyes wide, I stare at my surroundings, confused and frightened. My stomach feels sickening, chilled--not like I'm going to be sick right now, but the sort of feeling that could make you sick, if it persisted. Lifting my head, I dazedly blink at the opposite wall, puzzled. It's metal, but there's something in front of it... After a few seconds, I realize I'm in a cell, with a barred door. Sitting up, I take deep breaths, trying to calm myself down, but this paranoia won't go away. Something's going to happen. Something bad, something awful is about to happen to you.

Shuddering, I pull my knees close to my chest and wrap my arms around them, scooting along this wooden fixture on the wall--upon closer inspection, I realize it's a wooden board fastened to the wall as a sort of haphazard bench--to the corner where I can press my back against the wall. Nothing can sneak up on me when I know what's behind me even without looking. Trembling, I breathe deeply, trying to think calm thoughts, my eyes squeezed shut. I'm only wearing these gold bracelets around my wrists and ankles, nothing else, and I feel horribly overexposed. But I know I'm safe here in the corner--nothing can get to me that I won't see coming. Opening my eyes, I look up at the ceiling; it's made of the same roughhewn metal plates tacked together with bolts. It looks sloppily built, as if it wasn't meant to last, just to be something finished. It rumbles slightly, a quiet vibration giving away some sort of power source, somewhere in this structure. The hum, the metalwork, all feel familiar, but I can't place where I could know this from. I don't even know how I got here. All I can remember is the agony, the green light... I shudder. I feel weak, all trembly and sickly, curled in a ball in this corner, my heart thudding in my chest for no known reason. I stare blankly at the wall, not really seeing it, trying to convince myself that I'll be okay, but I can't. I don't believe it.

Sudden terror strikes me, and I start trembling even harder. What about under this bench? You can't see down there. What if something's coming to get you from down there? What will you do? You can't see down there! With a muffled shriek, I spring forward, landing with a thud on the ground. Scrabbling on the metal tiles, I dig my talons into the floor, clawing my way across to the other corner made of two walls of metal plates hewn together. I stumble my way over, looking frantically past my shoulder, until I whirl around, pressing my back into the corner, resuming my previous position. My eyes dart rapidly across the room, scanning for a threat, but I don't see anything. My fear doesn't abate, however; I still have a horrible sense of foreboding. I almost leap out of my skin when a robot thuds its way up to the door, opening it with some form of key. It stands, tall and shiny, looming over me as I quiver, uncertain.

"Wh-Wh-Who are y-you?" I choke out, teeth chattering in fear.

"I am your escort." It answers in a bland, monotone growl. "Stand."

Shaking my head vigorously, I mumble, "No, no, no, I can't do that," panic sears through me like a lightning bolt as the robot steps forward, closer to me, "I can't leave the corner, I can't--What if something sneaks up on me? I can't!"

"Nothing will sneak up on you." It replies coldly, heaving me to my feet. I try to struggle, but I can't. I don't know how to deal with this robot who won't listen to me. "You are coming with me now."

"Wh-What do I do?" I stutter, fearful, as it begins to pull me towards the door. "Why are--Why am I g-going with you?" Pushing me in front of it, the robot shoves me a bit roughly, and I squeak in protest.

It drags me out of my cell, slamming the door behind us, "I was ordered to help condition you."

"O-Ordered?" Confused, I let the machine guide me down the halls. I keep my arms close to me--particularly my right arm, which hurts very badly for some reason, stinging pain shooting from my wrist every few minutes--as I lean back, grinding my heels into the floor in an attempt to stop moving. "Ordered by whom?" The robot doesn't reply, merely opening a door and shoving me in a small, plain room lit by one white lamp on the table. I shiver, disliking the cramped space immediately. My companion guides me to a chair, facing the door, and gestures for me to sit; nervously, I do, not understanding what was going on. As soon as I settle into the chair, something wraps around my ankles and wrists, drawing a cry of alarm from me. I can't move, can't escape--I'm trapped, and as the robot takes the seat in front of me I know that what will happen after this will not be good.