I woke to the familiar sight of a ceiling made of plain unpainted, bolted metal…

The tarp beneath me crinkled audibly as I rose and, moving my legs off the edge of what could charitably be called a bed, took a moment to stretch out the stiffness in my back. Branches and pine needles were a definite improvement over bare metal but they were still far from perfect.

Shaking off a yawn I step off my 'bed' and begin preparing for the day.

My bedroom was a shared space with my sleeping area taking up a tiny corner of a very much in use storage room full of crates and various machine parts. Occasionally the noise of a machine filled the room as crates or parts were moved in and out. I was thankful for my ability to sleep no matter the noise or light level though in turn I always seemed to get up the moment the sun rose even if I couldn't see any natural light. My sleeping habits made me settle early compared to most people, for me sleeping late didn't mean getting up late and would sentence me to a miserable day if I tried to ignore this.

Bending over I pulled out my meager hygiene supplies as well as my shoes to prepare as best I could for the day.

Finger brushing the occasional odd swirl out of my fur I yawned before reaching into my mouth and began prodding at my teeth. After a moment of inspection I realized it was time to start my dental routine. With a huff I dug up a small shard of polished metal and my personal tooth file. Using the shard as a small makeshift mirror I started grinding away at my teeth and paying careful attention to leave my front teeth long, the sound an irritating noise that resounded deafeningly within my own head. Still as annoying as the noise was I preferred the natural advantage of having ever growing teeth, besides making sure they didn't grow too long I didn't actually need to take care of them too much. It was something I struggled not to smile about whenever someone mentioned having to go to a dentist, especially when it was a human bemoaning such a visit.

Unrolling my clothes I shook out the wrinkles as best as I could. I had very few articles of clothing as typical for a mobian, also typical for a mobian my clothes were made of fairly thin course material. When you weren't some glorified furless ape you didn't really have to worry much about how cloth felt when you wore it. I put on a rather offwhite and patched white long sleeved shirt that laced up near the collar. Checking my stitchwork on the inside pockets first I then also put on my once vivid turquoise vest. It used to have buttons, a fact that had me grumbling in continued frustration with myself not finding replacements. I did manage to make a decent belt with some scrap however and buckling that on served as the means of holding my vest closed, the lower half anyway.

Finally with a careful motion I took out my gloves from one of my vest pockets. Laying the carefully made folded square of cloth down on my bed I proceeded with the meticulous step by step process of unfolding my gloves. Kneeling in front of my bed I laid each glove next to one another, palm flat against the surface of the bed. Pulling out a bowl of water from beneath my bed I carefully washed my hands before drying them with rags made from a once spare shirt. Rubbing my clean hands against each other I then put on the gloves in quick smooth motions. Flexing the fingers and ensuring my gloves were on snugly I nodded once before standing up.

With that I quickly put on my weathered shoes and left the storage room.

As I made my way out of the storage area I had settled into I made sure to carefully look around every corner before continuing. My place in the hierarchy was… nebulous, oftentimes I found myself questioning what my authority was for that particular day or even task. Thus I wasn't sure if I was currently someone to run around or someone to run over if I got in the way of the machinery.

'I have to say I kinda prefer the animal shapes.' The sound of an engine alerted me to an oncoming cargo bot and I immediately pressed against a wall to not get flattened. 'They are kinda goofy looking and took your mind off the fact you were staring at murderbots with enough firepower to level most villages. Now there are more of these utilitarian or bipedal shapes mixing in with the funny looking animal bots.'

On my way through the building I couldn't help giving the side eye to every armed bot standing at guard or moving past. Normally I'd be better at giving the air of calm and lack of visible concern in regards to these warmachines everywhere but aside from one other person I was the only one in the building capable of thinking for himself. Sure some of these things could quip and snark a little when spoken too but typically with some effort you could get them to start repeating themselves and reveal the false personality for what it was, sheer theater to cater to one man in particular.

Long story short I had little concern for the nonexistent public opinion of my fellow 'minions'.

Eventually I reached the central chamber of the building, a massive room serving as a command center and computer lab. The room was easily big enough to house a gymnesium and had computer screens lining the walls, each attached to a servo arm that ran on rails and could rapidly approach any area of the room on command. Dominating the center of the room was a holographic projection displaying the world, around that in concentric circles were trenches whose walls made up of computer banks processing spirits knows what. Making up the curvature of the ceiling was one final massive computer display showing another map of the world but this one displaying constantly updating data. Percentages in the pluses and minuses around holdings showing growth and losses, warning signs of movement from GUN forces conducting retaliatory strikes, general build up or increases in defensive posturing. Alongside all that was yet more data along the lines of intrigue regarding cities and bases deep in GUN territory and unaligned nations.

None of it I really understood, lacking most if not all of the context beyond the fact it was business as usual. It was genuinely none of my business anyway being above my 'paygrade' as it were, not that I got paid beyond being given an apathetic go ahead to loot whatever supplies I needed to survive. A 'privilege' I was especially careful about not abusing and substituting the bare minimum whenever possible to leave as small a footprint as possible in the local logistics. My boss could be rather mercurial at the best of times so was it often prudent to leave as little actual problems caused by my presence as possible for him to suddenly get hung up on. Not that it stopped him from finding made up problems when he felt the mood strike him but in my experience those typically ran its course sooner. And speaking of bosses, mine was right where I had left him the day before, seemingly having spent the whole night in the same place.

Sitting in his almost signature hover pod docked in a port specially made for it was Doctor Ivo Robotnik, infamously known as Dr. Eggman.

He sat in his hover pod, seemingly contemplating the bare holographic display of the world, his fingers laced together just below his nose, one finger idly tapping on a knuckle as he silently stared through his shaded eye glasses. I idly noted he was still had on the new coat he had taken to wearing in place of the sweater and figured the fashion change was here to stay. It was always a bad idea to interrupt the Doctor when he was in the middle of basically anything in particular unless it was immensely important so I walked behind him. I took a place about a dozen feet away and settled in to wait. Normally I'd be busy at work on an assigned task but the overseeing of repairs for a recently attacked base was done yesterday morning. I had spent the rest of the afternoon standing awaiting orders until it grew late and went to sleep. Sometimes I genuinely wondered how the man found time to eat enough to be fat with how he lost himself to work and thought. Honestly it was probably genetics retaining body weight even in the face of somewhat regular bouts of unintended fasting. Whenever I did catch him eating he did typically binge large meals as if to avoid worrying about starvation for a time to focus on other things.

With a sudden blur of movement, Robotnik brought his fist down on a button and with a squeal of electronic protest the PA activated.

"RABBIT! GET HERE IMMEDIATELY!" Robotnik bellowed before reluctantly taking his fist off the button with a grumble.

For a brief instant I stared and to my mild embarrassment I found my hand resting over my heart. I had startled, maybe even jumped in surprise at the sudden unexpected movement. I had stood here expecting something to happen eventually but suffice to say it was hard to expect something unexpected. Then with mild annoyance I took stock of the fact he hadn't addressed me by name and I utterly refused to believe he didn't remember, the man was far too meticulous to lose track of details even as small as that.

'Maybe I should start wearing a big shiny nametag with 'Reginald' written in big bold comic sans letters? That would get his attention.' I briefly considered what little form of venting frustration I could get away with before immediately tossing it aside. 'No, that's just asking for trouble and besides there are only two outcomes of that action. Either he even more blatantly forgets my name and goes out of the way to get it wrong or… he gets angry.'

Now it was one thing for a robotic sycophant to get under Robotnik's skin; it was an entirely different matter for me to do so. For one thing I liked being alive AND in one piece, so it wouldn't do to make the man who regularly sacked the various nations under GUN's 'protection' angry with me. For another thing, I was pretty certain the good Doctor had purposefully designed his sycophants to purposefully be snarky and get under his skin just so he had something to genuinely be angry at and vent his wrath on. They never seemed to last for long even with Robotnik rebuilding them but even when they were finally completely scrapped he always replaced them in a new form.

"Reporting as ordered, Doctor Robotnik." I crossed the dozen feet distance from the Good Doctor and stood at attention just a short distance behind his shoulder. I also just utterly failed to stop the jerk of startlement that ran through my body when Robotnik's docked pod suddenly whipped around in a half instant.

"And just where did you disappear off to eight hours ago?!" Robotnik demanded, leaning over his control console with an accusatory finger in my face.

"Sleeping, Doctor." I replied, fully aware the man almost certainly already knew. Technology was everywhere in the building and so I was absolutely confident I had zero privacy at all times. It had certainly put a damper on certain urges but it was easily suppressed in favor of not giving someone a show, though in more likelihood I'd probably be made an example of in such a situation.

"Sleeping." Robotnik sneered before his pod turned back to face the hologram at a far more sedate pace. "Why do I even bother with organic servants?"

'Because the novelty of someone coming to work for you without you putting a gun to their head won you over.' I thought in answer and couldn't help but add in further retort. 'Spirits knows I wouldn't have dared tried that if you had some actual flesh and blood minions.'

These thoughts I painstakingly made sure weren't hinted at by the slightest expression on my face. The man was an unparalleled genius and while he wasn't as good as I was at reading people I'd be stupid to underestimate him in any way shape or form. You didn't have to be a genius afterall to realize that someone was thinking snarky thoughts though admittedly I probably was safe on that front. Robotnik had a tendency to make his sycophants incredibly expressive, he had more than once smashed them on the head when their face gave away what they were thinking in the safety of their own computerized minds. Whether that was because he didn't want to have to think too hard about whether a sycophant had crossed the line or not or he simply genuinely had trouble reading into complex personalities I didn't know. What I did know was that at the end of the day it was all grand theater for the good Doctor.

"Bah! It doesn't matter!" Robotnik shook a hand dismissively. "I've only now finished my research in any case."

I considered that statement, Robotnik had been seemingly just sitting in place all night as far as I could see. Was he just mentally going over things he knew in preparation for a plot? Making the motion look like I was merely giving the man my full attention I looked at him. Was his glasses some kind of miniature computer display? Had he simply been head deep in data since yesterday afternoon? Either and both were possible.

"That is what I WOULD say if I had all the data I needed!" Robotnik shouted and with a wave of his hand the holographic globe was sent spinning "I'm missing a few key pieces of information to pinpoint where I need to go!"

Confused feelings swirled in my head and left me briefly at a loss with why he was telling me these things. He had never done it before, simply sending me off with some busywork task. Suddenly it hit me like a spiked fist. He was going to take me along this time! He was going off to collect whatever he needed to begin whatever next big take over the world scheme he was plotting and was going to take his sole flesh and blood minion with him. I felt excitement swell in my chest, this was why I was here in the first place. I would be a part of the grand globe covering adventures I had heard about, finally in the mix of the dramatic hero versus villain rivalry at last. Of course there would be risks and first and foremost being the fact Doctor Robotnik might actually come out on top this time. But quite honestly I genuinely had faith that in the end Sonic would come out on top and I had no real negative feelings about supporting the 'losing side' so to speak. What I really wanted out of this was to be the one that remembered and documented the other side of the history that would be told in years to come. Everyone would know Sonic's story and the stories of his friends in the end but who would listen to any kind of memoirs Robotnik wrote? Being the objective writer of the other side of history, the only one anyone could really trust was true would be my little impact on history.

Of course first and foremost I had to survive long enough to make that impact.

The holographic globe stopped spinning and the image zoomed on the southeastern hemisphere of the planet and continued zooming into the southernmost point of the eastern continent. Tropical jungles turned the claw of the Eurian continent a lush green, occasionally broken by human towns and cities established by Adabat. North of Adabat was the Frontier Canyon Zone, a heavily mountainous area rich with natural minerals and sparsely populated by prospector towns and served as a natural border for Adabat. Frontier Canyon was far too rocky an environment for any kind of real permanent settlement despite its richness, even trying to live off the local population of mountain goats was iffy at the best of times. Not to mention that local goat mobians had a long sordid history of competing for prime living space in their own lands with prospectors and mining companies alike.

"We are going here." Robotnik stated as the hologram highlighted the Frontier Canyon Zone. "There is a high chance that ancient ruins present somewhere in this Zone will contain the information I need."

I nodded though inwardly I frowned and steeled myself for possibly months of long boring excavation. The discovery of the Frontier Canyon Zone's mineral richness wasn't exactly recent history. Ancient Ruins of abandoned prospector and other company towns would probably cover the entire zone. Not to mention the ruins of every attempt at establishing a mountain kingdom by the local mobians brought to ruin by outside pressures.

'We're going to be constantly tripping over graves full of things useless to Robotnik for months before we find what he's looking for.' I thought in consternation but ultimately confident that in the end we would actually find what Robotnik was looking for. It was Doctor Robotnik afterall.

"Prepare yourself! We leave in four hours!" Robotnik commanded before his pod suddenly rose from its docking port and flew out of the room.

'Oh good I don't have to ask permission to loot useful stuff from the armory.' I thought as I gave a sharp sulate in the hover pod's general direction. 'Alright, arid rocky environment with little in the way of greens and wildlife. I'm pretty sure I'll have access to supplies but just in case I'll pack my pemmican and secure supplies to make an air well. After that I'll secure some armor and weapons and maybe a few things for excavation. I'd expect the badniks to handle that but I might get unlucky and be told to start digging as well.'

I left the control center, feelings of excitement still strong and filled with hope of my future endeavors.

-TBC-

Author Note: Alright, new story and now trying to write in a different way. I haven't written in first person before so it's probably going to take a little bit of practice before I get the hang of it.