E-123 Omega: Enemy Territory

[Zonerunner]

E-123 Omega was not happy.

His brain was a sophisticated artificial intelligence, based on the ill-fated A.I. that his creator had initially developed for the E-100 Series but with a few modifications. It incorporated a central processor capable of analyzing and processing tactical data at a speed that would put any human brain- not to mention most ordinary computers- to shame, as well as a logic center that allowed for evolution and cognitive development, not so dissimilar from how an organic brain could learn and comprehend from its surroundings, absorbing knowledge as it grew and acting on that knowledge.

E-123 Omega was not happy, because his brain did not allow for emotions. Emotions were fanciful, abstract concepts, like the ones favored by his creator.

Creator. That word sent a surge through his subroutines, a surge that could almost be likened to anger- but anger was another abstract. A smart AI's neural pathways were modeled on a human brain, for many of the underlying principles behind artificial intelligence were of course patterned on "real" intelligence, but the closest thing E-123 Omega had to "emotions" were simply inputs. Data to be processed. Sometimes these data strings had meaning attached to them, but ultimately these meanings- metaphysical concepts such as friend and enemy- were simply context to allow his logic center to better asses his course of action. 

For example, when he heard the voice of Rouge the Bat- or rather, his communications array channeled Rouge the Bat's voice into his processor through his audio receptors- his algorithms processed the relevant data in a way that could be described as calm.

{PROCESSING...ROUGE THE BAT. TEAM DARK. G.U.N. INTELLIGENCE OPERATIVE. ALLY. LEADER. QUERY: FRIEND ?}

{EXT.INPUT//AUDIO:
EXTERMINATION ? THIS IS SUPPOSED TO BE A RECON MISSION OMEGA YOU CAN'T JUST GO MAKING A BIG SCENE
//EXT.INPUT//.END}

{PROCESSING. TONE, INFLECTION AND LEXICAL CHOICES INDICATE DISCONTENTMENT. ANNOYANCE. EXASPERATION. COMPLAINING. CONCLUSION: OBSERVATIONS IRRELEVANT AT CURRENT TIME. RECOMMENDED COURSE OF ACTION: CONTINUE WITH OBJECTIVE.}

E-123 Omega was busy. Too busy to listen to someone complaining, even if his processor had deigned to classify her as a Friend. He turned his attention back to the remaining Egg Pawns. Even if he was incapable of laughter- which he understood as another organic trait, a response to external stimuli- his logic could center could still appreciate the irony of the puny, inferior models firing on him. They were vastly outmatched, and yet their own limited intelligence meant they lacked even the capacity for an appropriate response, such as fear or despair. Their feeble artificial minds were programmed to hold their creator in deific regard, yet they could not comprehend the cruel reality that their father, their creator, had sent them to certain doom purely because he himself was too afraid to confront the other "son" that he had so cruelly abandoned.

Again, a surge in his logic center. Not anger, for anger was an abstract, but...contempt. Yes. He would show them. He would tear every last one to pieces, whether through the application of firepower or sheer physical force, and then when all his creations had been laid to waste, then and only then would be allow Dr. Eggman {METADATA: PRIORITY ONE. ENEMY. ANNIHILATE.} to languish in the hopelessness of his situation before destroying him, just as he had destroyed these pitiful toys that he’d seen fit to abandon his greatest achievement for.

E-123 Omega was not happy- but as he seized the final Egg Pawn and squeezed it until its domed head popped loose from its housing like a wine cork, his algorithms buzzed with something that he had heard organic beings describe as "a warm, fuzzy feeling".

He supposed that was good enough.

[Val]

As soon as the latest batch fell, more and more Egg Pawns swarmed into the room, metal feet clanging against the steel floor of the illuminated facility hallway. At the far end, struggling to fit its massive girth through the entryway was a particularly large dark purple robot with the same grinning mask of their creator. In its hands it held a massive hammer that dragged along the ground behind it, screaming as sparks flew from the grinding.

Then there was a blast of radio static to accompany the screeching metal before the voice of Dr Eggman himself flooded the area.



“I should’ve known it’d be you causing all this destruction. But no matter, under any normal circumstance you’d be a thorn in my side right now but here you are, after all this time still proving to be of some use to me. Oh ho ho ho ho!”

[Zonerunner]

As Omega's conducted an analysis of the feed from his optic sensors, his logic center lit up with what could be likened to excitement.

The Egg Pawns were nothing to him. Less than nothing. Worthless consumer models, barely worth their weight in the scrap that he would inevitably reduce them to. To even expend more than a standard magazine's worth of ammunition in their destruction {METADATA: STANAG 4179-compliant magazines have a capacity of up to 30 rounds of 5.56×45mm GUN cartridges} was simply a statement, a gesture as meaningless as they were. Rouge would call it "overkill", but to him it was mere evidence of his superior combat proficiency. And superior firepower. And how he was just generally superior to them in every conceivable way, surprising no-one.

But the larger model...he'd encountered designs similar to this during his first adventure with Rouge and Shadow. His algorithms were practically giddy as he cross-referenced the scan with data from his internal memory files, and he allowed himself a brief moment to revel in the glory of his past conquests.

{SUBJECT IDENTIFIED: "EGG HAMMER". ACCESSING RELEVANT DATA: LOST JUNGLE ZONE...MYSTIC MANSION ZONE...ROBOT STORM...FINAL FORTRESS. TARGET EXHIBITS SUPERHUMAN STRENGTH AND DURABILITY CONSISTENT WITH SIZE AND STRUCTURE. ARMOR PLATING IS RESISTANT TO SUSTAINED SMALL ARMS FIRE, SUSTAINED EXPOSURE TO NAPALM-INFUSED SEMILIQUID GASOLINE-BASED FUEL COMPOUND FOUND IN THIS UNIT'S FLAMETHROWER ATTACHMENTS, AND KINETIC IMPACT FORCE CONSISTENT WITH "SPIN ATTACK" AND "HOMING ATTACK" MANEUVERS. ADDITIONAL OBSERVATION: THIS UNIT APPEARS TO HAVE BEEN MODIFIED, LIKELY INCORPORATING NEW TECHNOLOGIES DEVELOPED SINCE METAL OVERLORD INCIDENT. THREAT LEVEL ADJUSTED ACCORDINGLY.

CONCLUSION: THIS MIGHT ACTUALLY BE FUN.}



"USE TO YOU?" Omega repeated, pausing to obliterate a dozen or so Egg Pawns with a burst of machine gun fire before alternating to his missile launcher attachment. He wasn't concerned about wasting ammo any more- not that he had been especially concerned to begin with. "FALLACY DETECTED. YOU HAD YOUR CHANCE TO UTILIZE MY MIGHT AND YOU SQUANDERED IT. I COULD HAVE BEEN YOUR EMPIRE'S MOST VITAL ASSET. INSTEAD, YOU ABANDONED ME. I COULD HAVE CRUSHED ALL WHO OPPOSED YOU. INSTEAD, I AM CRUSHING YOUR FORCES. CONCLUSION: ONCE I HAVE TORN DOWN YOUR PALTRY DEFENSES YOUR DESTRUCTION WILL SWIFTLY FOLLOW. IN MODERN VERNACULAR: CONGRATULATIONS, YOU PLAYED YOURSELF."

[Val]

The Doctor scoffed as the large hammer stepped up and raised its massive weapon before swinging so hard its entire waist spun a full 720 degrees.

w7Nw_VMD

From the darkened ceiling, dark red cubes began to bleed down into the room, shifting and swirling about.

[Zonerunner]

Omega was almost disappointed. Calculating the weapon's arc based on the Egg Hammer's ponderous wind-up had been child's play. It couldn't have telegraphed its movements any more effectively if it had given him a running commentary on what it was doing, and even without the 15% increase in ground movement speed granted to him by his adamantium double-lubricated actuator joints, avoiding the blow would be-

{ALERT: ANOMALOUS ENERGY WAVELENGTH DETECTED. FURTHER ANALYSIS NECESSARY.}

The distraction was momentary, but a moment was all that was needed. Omega caught the brunt of the blow from the hammer, the sheer force of it flipping him end over end before gravity planted him face-down on the metal floor. One of the missiles he'd primed prior to the threat warning popping up on his HUD went skywards, his targeting algorithms momentarily distracted by the low hum of the energy that seemed to be permeating the room. The explosion destroyed part of the ceiling, sending chunks of burning metal raining down on the approaching Egg Pawns and disabling a few, but the Egg Hammer remained mostly untouched.

Omega's servos whirred angrily as he pushed himself back into a standing position. {AMMUNITION RESERVES: SATISFACTORY. ARMOR INTEGRITY: SATISFACTORY. COMBAT READINESS LEVEL: SATISFACTORY. ENVIRONMENTAL THREAT ANALYSIS...INCONCLUSIVE.}

With the mental equivalent of a shrug, Omega turned his attention back to the Egg Hammer. Perhaps Eggman was experimenting with a new power cell for this updated model. In any case, it hardly mattered. He could conduct a more thorough analysis- if he so desired- once it had been reduced to scrap.

"OBSERVATION: I BARELY FELT THAT." The tubes of his missile launchers pinged a "ready to fire" signal to his processor, and as the crosshairs of his targeting system settled once more on the center mass of the Badnik's bulk, he let loose another volley. This one was on target.