Shadow: The Origin Of A Legend

Chapter 3

"He's a failure. I'll have to wipe his mind again." Robotnik snarls, speaking to the face on the screen.

"That's an expensive process..." The disembodied voice Robotnik's master speaks not of monetary cost, however, and Robotnik knows it.

"It must be done. I will have his power!" A hiss emanates from the screen. Robotnik, catching his tragic error, panics and coughs, "I mean, we will have his power."

"Correct. Don't forget that it was I who orchestrated all this. Once you have harnessed his power and given it to me, I will give you the world." The godly voice booms, his words pointed.

"The world...?" Robotnik breathes, salivating.

"The world. Now go. Wipe his mind, make him the perfect killing machine for me. And don't let that Sonic near him-don't even let him watch newscasts. Corrupting the evil that we try to instill within him before it's fully deep-set will ruin everything."

"But, if we wipe his mind too often it will deteriorate," Robotnik protests.

"Then don't fail again." Venom drips from the voice and Robotnik cringes. It is not a suggestion, but a threat...and one easily fulfilled, Robotnik could attest to that.

"Of course, Lord..." Robotnik gulps as the transmission cuts out. He turns around and addresses the robot standing guard. "Get Shadow. Make sure he's knocked out. And have someone go organize a bake sale or something, get us back the funding we need."

The robot bobs its head and exits. Robotnik is left alone with a blank screen and his own thoughts. His thoughts race around inside of his mind. Many of My Lord's schemes are too intricate for me to follow, but this one is shockingly simple and pointless. I'll admit-this child is a prodigy, and yet he is still a child. This war is no place for a child, especially not on the front lines as Lord plans!

Again, kidnapping a boy from his parents and forcing him into a life of crime and assassination isn't precisely my cup of tea but this boy, not only a prodigy, was named 'Shadow'. His mother named him Shadow. Why? Why would she break famililial traditions? And why won't my Leige tell me the reason for this, for wiping his mind every time he begins to show humanity, for having the very best of all my army chosen to teach him? What could possibly become of this boy?

Robotnik whirls around as one of his robots drags itself in, carrying a ball of black-and-red fur in its arms like a precious jewel. "Where do I put this, Master?"

"You know where." Robotnik growls grimly. The robot nods, devoid of emotion, and takes the ball of fur over to a large metal bed nailed upright into the wall. Using the straps conveniently placed just so-as if molded for the child-to secure the body; it ensures that Shadow will not move even a hair's breadth as his memories, his persona, his soul is ripped cruelly from him. When the boy awakes, he will have no recollection of who he was, or anything that happened. He will only know what I tell him... The training, the First Talk will be remembered. Those skills have been so deeply ingrained within him that they are second nature, and the First Talk is the one thing to be allowed to remain. Sudden sadness spears Robotnik's heart. I have done many cruel, heartless things, but this? This...it was difficult enough to bear the first time. Do I really have the...capability...to do it again?

But he had received his orders. To go against them was death. To follow them was death of another kind...death of another little piece of his soul. Robotnik fingered the lever on the machine, hesitating. Just a pull of the lever and it's all gone. His past, his conscience, his personality. All gone. Forevermore.

Robotnik looked at the sleeping face of Shadow. His eyebrows slant gently downwards, his eyelashes fluttering gently as he dreams. His mouth is slightly open, revealing his little white fangs, and his chest-fluff (puffing out around a thick, tight belt from the metal clasp around his chest) just barely grazes his chin. His ears are soft triangular shapes, sloping forward. The fluorescent lights cast him in a sickly, pale light and yet he still seems angelic. His face is still young, but with only a trace of the roundness of childhood, and he breathes ever so softly. At that moment, Robotnik could no more erase his mind than stab a cute, small animal to death with a spoon. His will falters. The entirety of the horrible things he's done to this innocent child is nearly too much to bear.