Heads up, this is the rewritten version, I’ll keep up the original but this is the fixed one.
Walking through the endless fields, I hurried forward, desperate to catch even the slightest glimpse of the ████ ████████. For weeks, people had spoken about him endlessly. No matter where I went, his name always found its way into conversations. Some spoke of him with admiration, others with fascination, and a few with a strange obsession that unsettled me more than I cared to admit. Eventually, their constant praise infected my own thoughts as well. Curiosity rooted itself deep inside my mind until it became impossible to ignore.
I needed to understand why everyone seemed so enthralled by him.
Without realizing it, my wandering carried me farther than I had ever gone before. Familiar paths and landmarks slowly disappeared behind me, swallowed by an unfamiliar stretch of land that felt disturbingly empty. The cheerful breeze that once rolled through the fields now sounded hollow and distant. Even the air itself felt wrong somehow thicker, heavier, as though the world were quietly warning me to turn back before it was too late.
My legs ached from walking, exhaustion dragging at me with every step. Eventually, I stopped to catch my breath, rubbing my tired eyes as I stared across the endless sea of grass swaying beneath the gray sky.
A lone ████ ████████ stood in the distance, perfectly still.
For a moment, my heart nearly stopped beating altogether.
Every thought in my mind vanished instantly, replaced by a single overwhelming urge to get closer. Against every instinct screaming at me to stay away, I rushed toward him. Curiosity drowned out reason completely.
The closer I came, the stranger everything felt.
Even the sound of my own footsteps became distant and muffled, as though the world itself had begun pulling away from me. Yet none of it mattered. My eyes remained locked onto him.
I could not explain what I was feeling. There was something deeply unnatural about his presence, something almost hypnotic. Simply looking at him filled my mind with a strange warmth that made it impossible to think clearly. It felt as though my thoughts were no longer entirely my own, as though some unseen force had wrapped invisible fingers around my mind and was slowly pulling me closer without ever touching me.
For what felt like hours, I simply stood there staring.
The ████ ████████’s face twitched.
At first, the movement was subtle, small distortions beneath the skin, as if something alive writhed underneath it. I blinked hard, convinced exhaustion was playing tricks on me.
Then the flesh moved again.
Slowly, his features began to bend and warp into impossible shapes. Skin stretched unnaturally, folding inward while sickening cracks echoed through the silent field. The sound reminded me of brittle bones snapping beneath unbearable pressure. His face continued collapsing into itself before reforming into something grotesque and unrecognizable.
I stumbled backward in horror, my stomach twisting violently.
Wet tearing noises filled the air.
The thing standing before me no longer resembled anything human.
Its head jerked sharply to one side with a nauseating crunch. Beneath its skin, distorted masses pulsed violently, twitching as though countless living things were trapped underneath the flesh, desperately clawing for escape. Every movement became more erratic than the last.
Yet despite the horror unfolding before me, I still could not look away.
But my body refused to move.
I woke with a violent gasp, nearly choking on air as I shot upright in bed. My chest heaved while my heartbeat slammed painfully against my ribs. Sweat clung to my skin and quills, cold and suffocating, and for several long moments I could do nothing except sit there in silence, desperately trying to convince myself it had only been a nightmare.
Slowly, I lowered my gaze to my trembling hands, focusing on my breathing as I tried to calm myself down. In the distance, I could hear the muffled sound of a television playing. Voices drifted through the walls of my room, occasionally interrupted by bursts of static and laughter.
The sound immediately felt wrong.
The last thing I remembered before being brought here was spending months trapped inside one of Eggman’s facilities. Every day had blended together into an endless routine of interrogations, sleepless nights, and constant surveillance. Hearing something as normal as a television almost felt unreal despite knowing there is a tv in the next room,
My ears flicked nervously.
It had to be that creepy hedgehog copy waiting on the other side of the door.
Eggman eventually had to order him to stop watching me sleep after he spent an entire week standing beside my bed every night. Apparently, silently staring at me while I slept for hours on end wasn’t considered acceptable behavior even for one of the doctor’s creations.
The memory made my stomach churn.
I sometimes still have nightmares about when he was watching me as I slept.
I’m glad that the doctor told the copy he was not allowed to watch me as I slept after this has been going on for a month.
Now it’s been five months.
I've been here for five months.
Five months of interrogations.
Five months of questions.
Five months of refusing to tell them anything useful about the Resistance.
Not that they had gotten much out of me. Every interrogation ended the same way. They asked questions. I gave them nothing. Then they sent me back to these living quarters to wait for the next session.
At first, their interrogators had been calm and professional.
Now they were getting frustrated.
I could see it in their faces.
Their patience was running out, and that terrified me more than I wanted to admit. So far, they had relied almost entirely on questioning, manipulation, and intimidation. But people like the doctor never will stay patient forever.
Sooner or later, they would decide talking wasn’t enough.
Sooner or later, they would try something worse.
The thought made my stomach twist into knots.
I pushed the fear aside and forced myself out of bed. The floor felt cold beneath my feet as I stretched sore muscles and made my way toward the bathroom connected to my room.
The reflection staring back at me from the mirror looked awful.
I saw what I knew to expect, Dark circles hung beneath my eyes, my quills were a mess. However I seemed a bit less thin than usual but I’m still extremely thin. Everything that’s been going on has been extremely exhausting for me.
After splashing some water on my face, I went through the familiar motions of getting ready. Brush my teeth. Wash up. Fix my quills as best as I could.
The routine was one of the few things that still felt normal.
Eventually, I stepped back into the bedroom and grabbed the clothes they expected all of their “guests” to wear.
The word guest almost made me laugh.
Guests were allowed to leave.
Guests weren’t monitored around the clock.
Guests didn’t get interrogated for five straight months.
I reluctantly pulled on the uniform and glanced down at myself. The outfit was clean, simple, and completely devoid of personality. Every time I wore it, I was reminded less of a guest and more of a prisoner.
Unfortunately, there wasn’t much I could do about it.
They had taken everything from me the day I arrived. My equipment. My communicator. My personal belongings. Anything that could have been useful was locked away somewhere deep within the facility.
All I had left now was myself.
And even that felt like something they were slowly trying to take away.
I opened the door and stepped out of the bedroom. The source of the noise immediately became apparent.
An old comedy movie played across the screen, its canned laughter occasionally echoing through the otherwise quiet room. Sitting on the couch directly in front of it was the copy.
Thankfully, his back was turned toward me. That meant I didn’t have to see those unsettling red eyes glowing from beneath his synthetic skin’s brow.
For a moment, I considered quietly sneaking into the kitchen area before he noticed I was awake.
“Good morning, Miss Rose. I see you’ve finally decided to wake up.”
His synthetic voice cut through the room.
Apparently, I hadn’t been nearly as quiet as I’d hoped.
The copy slowly turned his head toward me. The movement was unnaturally smooth.
Without another word, he held out a small snack bar.
The wrapper was completely plain, lacking any kind of branding or label. Just another product manufactured somewhere within that damn doctor’s empire.
I stared at it for a moment before reluctantly accepting it.
As annoying as it was to take food from him, turning it down wouldn’t accomplish anything.
I sat down on the far end of the couch and carefully unwrapped the bar. The copy returned his attention to the television as if we were two ordinary people sharing a quiet morning together.
The thought almost made me laugh.
Dry. Bland. Somehow both flavorless and unpleasant at the same time.
After all these years of hell, I wasn’t exactly in a position to be picky.
Beside me, the copy remained silent for several moments before speaking again.
“It’s time for another interrogation soon.”
“I don’t understand why you refuse to answer his questions,” he continued. “If you cooperated, this could all be over. We could simply release you.”
His voice carried what sounded like genuine sympathy. Or at least his best attempt at it.
The problem was that he sounded too perfect.
Every word felt carefully calculated, like someone reading emotions from a manual rather than actually feeling them. He tried so hard to sound like a normal Mobian that it only made him seem less convincing.
“Yeah…” I muttered. “And I’m supposed to believe that?”
The copy tilted his head.
“I am telling the truth.”
I took another bite of the food bar.
“I refuse to tell you anything, not even 30 years have passed.”
A sharp electronic beep came from somewhere inside his chassis.
I couldn’t tell if it was irritation, confusion, or some internal process reacting to my answer.
He was hating my response most likely.
The room fell silent again, mostly besides the TV that was playing in the background.
I finished the rest of the snack bar while the television continued to play. The actors on screen laughed and joked while neither of us paid much attention to them.
When I was done, the copy reached over and took the empty wrapper from my hand before neatly disposing of it.
The movie continued playing behind him.
The friendly tone was gone.
His glowing red eyes locked onto mine.
“You are required for questioning.”
I remained seated for a moment.
A second later, another quiet mechanical hum came from within his body.
“If you refuse,” he said calmly, “I have been authorized to use force to ensure compliance.”
No matter how polite he acted, no matter how many movies he watched or snack bars he handed out, he was still that doctor’s machine.
And machines followed orders.
I slowly pushed myself off the couch.
“Yeah, yeah. I’m coming.”
The copy gave a single nod before turning toward the door.
The heavy doors slid open with a mechanical hiss, revealing the brightly lit halls beyond. Endless sterile corridors stretched in every direction, every wall coated in the same nauseating shade of Baker-Miller pink.
Of course the Doctor would choose it.
The color was supposedly calming, designed to reduce aggression and make people more compliant. It was the perfect choice for a facility like this. Every inch of the place felt carefully engineered to make prisoners—or “guests,” as the doctor preferred to use.
Not that he really needed to cover this facility and what’s going on anymore..
The world outside had already gone to hell.
I stepped into the hallway, the copy leading the way as usual.
The familiar route stretched before us.
The same path we’d walked dozens of times before.
Yet despite spending months trapped here, I realized something strange.
The thought caught me off guard.
For months I’d simply referred to him as “the copy” in my head. I had never bothered asking what he was called, and he had never offered the information. Maybe he didn’t have a name. Maybe the doctor saw him as nothing more than another machine.
Or maybe I simply never cared enough to ask.
The copy continued forward, completely unaware of my thoughts.
My attention drifted elsewhere.
Back to the interrogation.
Five months of questions.
Five months of refusing to cooperate.
At some point, even the doctor had to realize he wasn’t getting anywhere.
The thought made my stomach tighten.
What happened when questioning stopped being useful?
What happened when patience finally ran out?
Would they move me somewhere else?
Would they lock me away permanently?
The last possibility sent a chill down my spine.
I had seen enough of the doctor’s creations to know how little regard he had for ethics. The thought of being strapped to one of his machines while he tested some new invention made my blood run cold.
You’re only making it worse.
Unfortunately, my brain didn’t seem interested in listening.
Every possible outcome that crossed my mind felt worse than the last.
My ears flattened against my head as anxiety slowly crept deeper into my chest.
Then the copy suddenly stopped.
I nearly walked into him.
A large reinforced door stood before us.
Unlike the others, this one looked significantly heavier, thick metal plating covering its entire surface.
The copy stepped forward and placed a hand against a nearby keypad.
One by one, the numbers appeared on the display.
The machine processed the code for a moment before a loud metallic clunk echoed through the hallway.
The door slowly began to slide open.
The room beyond was drenched in darkness.
Only a single weak ceiling light flickered overhead, its pale glow barely illuminating the center of the chamber. Every few seconds it buzzed violently, threatening to die completely before sputtering back to life. Beneath it sat a lone metal table bolted firmly to the floor, accompanied by a single chair.
Resting at the center of the table was an old television.
The copy stepped aside and gestured toward the open doorway.
“Please enter, Miss Rose.”
That somehow made it worse.
I stared into the room for a moment, my stomach twisting into knots. Whatever the Doctor had planned today, I doubted I was going to enjoy it.
Taking a slow breath, I forced my legs to move and stepped across the threshold.
The door hissed shut behind me.
Immediately, the television crackled with static.
For a moment, the screen displayed nothing but distorted black-and-white snow. Then an image slowly emerged from the interference.
The arrogant bastard was too afraid to show up in person.
“Ah, Miss Rose…” Eggman said, leaning forward slightly. “It’s been quite some time since our last meeting, hasn’t it?”
His raspy voice echoed through the room. Even through the speakers, I could hear the mechanical strain within his body. Every breath sounded labored, accompanied by the faint whirring and grinding of machinery hidden beneath flesh.
█████ had nearly killed him during their last confrontation.
The explosion had destroyed most of his body beyond repair.
What remained had been rebuilt.
And somehow, he looked even worse than before.
His skin appeared pale and unhealthy beneath the dim lighting. Metal plating stretched across portions of his neck and jaw, fused permanently into scarred flesh. Tubes disappeared beneath his clothing, feeding air into lungs that barely functioned anymore.
The sight filled me with disgust.
I didn’t think it was possible to hate him more than I already did.
“Come now,” the doctor continued, folding his hands together. “Have a seat so we can begin this conversation properly.”
My eyes drifted toward the chair.
Unlike the polished hallways outside, the furniture in this room looked neglected. Deep scratches covered the tabletop. Several dents suggested someone had repeatedly slammed heavy objects against it. Long grooves carved into the metal looked disturbingly similar to claw marks.
Even the chair appeared damaged.
One leg sat slightly uneven, causing it to wobble whenever it moved.
“Uh… no thanks,” I muttered. “I think I’ll stand.”
The doctor’s expression darkened instantly.
Without warning, the copy shoved me forward.
I hit the chair hard enough to rattle my teeth before being forced into it. My arms slammed against the cold table, sending pain through my shoulders.
“Sorry, Miss Rose,” the doctor said coldly. “I’m operating on a rather strict schedule today, and your refusal is not acceptable.”
The calm voice he always used right before something unpleasant happened.
I rubbed my sore arm while glaring at the screen.
“Now then,” the doctor continued. “I’ve been informed that you’ve maintained contact with the Resistance. More specifically, the same Resistance that continues interfering with my operations and sabotaging several of my facilities.”
He paused briefly to catch his breath.
The sound of his mechanical lungs wheezing through the speakers made my skin crawl.
“So,” he said at last, “I’ve decided to offer you a proposal.”
“You tell me where their current headquarters is located, and in return, I spare their lives. Furthermore, you will not be punished for assisting them.”
This was the same man responsible for countless kidnappings.
The same man who treated living people like disposable resources.
The same man who turned innocent Mobians into unwilling test subjects for whatever twisted project had captured his attention.
And he expected me to trust him?
I slammed both hands against the table hard enough for the impact to echo through the room, I didn’t care if this caused pain to myself.
“Because you always keep your promises, right?”
“Aren’t you the same disgusting monster running experiments on innocent people?!”
The copy immediately shifted beside me.
His glowing red eyes narrowed.
“You’re not trying to save them,” I continued angrily. “You just want to drag them into one of your labs and turn them into more test subjects!”
For the first time, irritation became visible on the doctor’s face.
Still, his voice remained calm.
“I had hoped we could handle this civilly, dear Miss Rose.”
“Unfortunately, you’ve chosen to make things difficult.”
His gaze shifted slightly off-screen.
“Silas,” he said. “I suppose we’ll have to proceed with alternative methods.”
Before I could react, a hand grabbed one of my quills and yanked me backward.
Pain shot through my scalp.
I cried out in surprise as the chair toppled beneath me.
The copy; well now Silas as I have finally gotten a name for the thing hauled me upright effortlessly.
I struggled against his grip, managing to break free for only a moment before he caught me again.
“Keep her alive,” the doctor added casually. “If she remains uncooperative, I can still find other uses for her. I recently acquired a rather interesting sample.”
Fear immediately settled in my chest.
Whatever that meant, I didn’t want to know.
The room suddenly felt much smaller.
“Now,” the doctor said sharply, “let us try this again.”
His eyes locked onto mine through the screen.
“Where is the Resistance base located, Miss Rose?”
I wiped blood from the corner of my mouth and glared at him.
“I’m not telling you anything.”
For a moment, nobody moved.
Then Silas attacked again.
At first, everything seemed normal.
A strange flicker appeared behind his glowing eyes.
His movements became erratic.
The careful restraint he normally maintained seemed to vanish completely.
Even the doctor appeared confused.
The machine didn’t respond.
His movements became increasingly aggressive, no longer reacting to commands or waiting for instructions.
The room blurred around me.
Somewhere in the distance, I heard the doctor’s voice rise.
The copy continued moving.
For the first time since I’d met him, he wasn’t behaving like a machine following orders.
He was acting on his own.
Alarms suddenly erupted somewhere beyond the room.
Red warning lights flashed through the doorway.
Eggman’s face twisted with alarm.
Silas ignored him completely.
More voices echoed from the television.
Then several mechanical arms burst into the room from the ceiling.
They wrapped around Silas’ limbs and pulled him backward.
For a moment, the restraints actually struggled to hold him.
The sight alone terrified me.
I had never seen him fight against his control before.
The world tilted sideways.
The last thing I saw was the doctors screaming orders at someone off-screen while Silas stared directly at me.
His glowing eyes flickered violently.
Almost like he was trying to say something.
Then darkness swallowed everything.
My ears are full of buzzing.
