Chapter Text
Out in the mountains west of Sunset City, a young wolf was traversing the most difficult trails he could find. He had verdigris green-blue fur and fiery orange eyes, a peach-tan fleshy muzzle with a black nose, a relatively short and bushy tail, and tall triangular ears that curved inwards. He stood about 125 centimeters tall with a wiry build, and he had fur on the back of his head that fanned out like human hair. For attire, he wore military gloves with inverted chevrons on the front and tan patches on the back, matching boots with black toes and tan patches, and a pair of rectangular glasses with black frames. As far as accessories, he had a tan utility belt with a strap over his right shoulder while its three pouches were on the opposite side, a military green and black headset that was placed by his right ear, a black band around his upper right arm with the acronym “SF” written on it in red text, and a large black and silver band around his left glove’s wrist that also had a small mounted barrel.
This was Gismund T. Wolf, better known by his nickname “Gizmo” due to his penchant for making good use of tools and weapons. Nearly seven months ago, he was just another ordinary citizen of the world, captivated by the exploits of Sonic the Hedgehog and his friends. He’d admired the blue blur for never giving up, as well as Amy Rose’s compassion, and he would say that he had a little bit of a kindred spirit in Miles “Tails” Prower, as far as his love for tinkering. He’d always wished that he could go on grand and epic outings like they did, but he hadn’t possessed the physical or mental fortitude that they did. More than anything, his anxiety and low self-confidence had held him back.
Then the War had been set in motion. With news of Sonic’s defeat, many had been frozen by the loss, and pretty much the entire world was soon overtaken by Eggman’s forces. After fleeing his home, the wolf had signed up with the Resistance and gotten to know others in his squad quite well. For six long months, they’d trained, laughed, and cried together as they fought back against the armies of the doctor.
He remembered the day he and his fellow rookies had run into Infinite, the effective right hand of Eggman. The power of the Phantom Ruby, which the wolf had later learned was actually a prototype duplicate, had allowed the jackal to defeat Gizmo's group with minimal effort. In a cruel and sadistic twist, the barely teenage pup had been left the only survivor, forced to run away for the other canine’s amusement. Not long after that traumatic event, he’d been found by Knuckles the Echidna, and from there, he’d fought on the front lines, his doubts and fears slowly ebbing over time. Once the War ended, he decided to leave the Resistance and set out on his own to help clean up the stragglers of Eggman’s army.
‘Good thing they're mostly aimless now,’ he thought, ‘they attack places, yeah, but not in any big and organized way like they did during the War. Still, we've got lots of rebuilding to do, and they're not making it easy.’
The wolf had been doing this for about four weeks following the end of the War. Not every day had been filled with fighting robots and aiding citizens, but that was okay; Gizmo appreciated being alone sometimes. It gave him time to think about everything he'd been through, and consider what to do next. The wolf knew that when the doctor inevitably returned, he would likely become yet another target for his diabolical schemes. At that point, there’s no doubt he’d run into Sonic again, assuming the hedgehog didn’t take care of things first.
However, on the subject of the hero, he’d been having some more...uncomfortable contemplations as of late.
‘Hmm, Sonic,’ Gizmo mused, albeit with doubt creeping in, 'it feels like everyone relies on him too much. What if he loses again? I dunno about anyone else, but I'm not gonna sit and do nothing if that happens.’
Gizmo continued through the mountains, navigating a thick forest as well as intertwined stony corkscrew loops. He came upon a clearing only a few minutes later, discovering it to host a small and idyllic village. There were a number of buildings that were creamy white with red or blue slanted roofs, a sizable plaza for people to gather or hold events, and a large windmill that stood opposite of what appeared to be a storage tower. A plethora of mountain flowers populated the fields in and around the town, and numerous kids younger than him were out playing and enjoying the weather.
It didn’t seem like anything out of the ordinary, but the wolf figured he could take a quick look. Gizmo put on a friendly face as he entered the village, causing several of the residents to stop what they were doing and look his way. He felt a bit anxious and halted himself, his ears perking up at the whispers he caught.
“Hey, it’s a Resistance soldier. Special Forces, too, if that’s what those letters on his armband mean.”
“That would explain why there’s only one instead of a whole bunch. SF are the cream of the crop, aside from people like Sonic and his friends.”
“Seems kinda young to be a soldier, though, much less SF.”
“Wonder what he’s doing all the way out here. I thought the War was over.”
Gizmo let out a sigh. Given that he’d kept his gear, it was common for people to assume he was still with the Resistance. Yes, he could simply discard it, get some new clothes and accessories, and perhaps upgrade a couple of things like his grappler and headset. But aside from the lattermost idea, he wasn’t that motivated to do so. Until he outgrew his digs, he was going to keep on wearing them and remain proud that he’d been part of such a group. Still, the townsfolk could do more than simply mumble about him while he was right there.
There was one fellow, however, that chose to walk up to him. It was a heavyset goat that stood somewhat taller than him, with gray fur and blue eyes, as well as pink flesh that was visible in his moderately long sideways ears. He had a wide black nose, bushy eyebrows, darker gray markings around his eyes, thick and lengthy fur beneath his chin much like a large beard, and dark horns that curved back and to the side. As for clothes, he wore a purple sweater underneath a green jacket, black fingerless gloves, and black shoes with golden buckles. One arm was folded behind his back while the other gripped a simple wooden cane, which he used to shuffle over to the wolf.
“Hello and welcome to Windmill Village,” he greeted Gizmo cordially, his voice a warm and pleasant baritone, “I’m Elder Scruffy, the head of this humble town.”
Gizmo nodded politely. “Nice to meet you, sir. My name’s Gismund T. Wolf, though most people call me Gizmo.”
“A pleasure to meet you, Gizmo,” Scruffy replied as he gave the lupine a handshake. While doing so, he also looked the boy over, perking one brow. “I must say, you look quite young for a soldier. But, leaving that aside, why would the Resistance send someone out here?”
“I’m a former soldier, sir. I left the Resistance after the War ended, and I’ve been going around helping wherever I can in the aftermath.” Gizmo rubbed at his hair a bit bashfully. “I just happened to find this place during my trek through the mountains.”
“My apologies if we made you feel uncomfortable. If you need to rest for a while, we can set up a space at the Community Center. Otherwise, you’re free to roam around and get yourself acquainted with the village.”
The wolf nodded, deciding to take him up on the offer. Once the villagers learned that he wasn’t part of the Resistance anymore and was just visiting by chance, they were much more welcoming and volunteered to show him around. There wasn’t a whole lot to take in aside from what he’d already seen, but the people made it a pleasant experience all the same. He got to see the Community Center, the bakery, tailor, and so on, eventually getting a look at the inside of the big windmill itself, all the while receiving tidbits of history about each landmark and business. He’d even gotten a slice of fresh honey tart once their tour was done, and after sinking his teeth into it...
“Oh wow, this is good!” he marveled, “can I get some of these to go?”
That got some laughs from the others, but since he’d asked nicely, the baker obliged his request.
“Gizmo!” squeaked one of the children, “you must have a lot of cool stories about the War!”
“Yeah, tell us!”
Gizmo wasn’t keen to share everything, considering he wasn’t proud of who he used to be, nor was he comfortable talking about his fallen squad mates just yet. However, he was willing to tell them about the missions he had gone on during the tail-end of the war. Of course, the one that received the most attention was the final battle. The children’s eyes were glued to the wolf and their ears open as he told them how the Phantom Ruby prototype he’d found had been the key to turning the tables against Eggman.
“Then after I stopped the Phantom Sun from burning us all to a crisp,” he went on, sliding one hand over his face and narrowing his eyes to mimic a certain jackal, “Sonic and I kicked Infinite’s butt and then stormed into the doctor’s main stronghold. We broke down the generator, and it seemed like we’d finally won...” He rose from his seat on a log and did his best impression of the doctor’s laugh, causing a few of the kids to yelp. “But, Eggman had one last machine to fight us with, powered by the real Phantom Ruby!”
One of the children, a brown wallaby with a green shirt and black shorts, gazed at him anxiously. “How did you beat it?”
“Well, Sonic brought down its force field,” Gizmo told them, reaching into one pouch to pull out his Cube Wispon, “then I broke the outer shell with this. The doctor’s robot showed its true form and pulled Sonic and I into Null Space.” He pumped his free fist triumphantly. “But even that was no match for our teamwork! With a Double Boost, we destroyed his final weapon, though there was no sign of Eggman or the Phantom Ruby after the dust settled.” He shrugged and smiled. “We had a nice party, and then I left the Resistance to go my own way. Now I just help people wherever I go, kinda like Sonic.”
“Whoa!”
“What was it like fighting along with Sonic?”
“Can you use any Wispons other than that one?”
“Can you ask the Resistance for favors even though you’re not with ‘em anymore?”
Their curiosity was insatiable, but Gizmo was happy to provide answers. And naturally, there came a point when those young minds shifted gears from bombarding him with inquiries.
“Let’s play!” exclaimed a purple rat boy in a blue t-shirt and blue denim shorts, with the other young ones clamoring in agreement.
“Now, kids,” an adult red rabbit said gently, “Gizmo is probably tuckered out from his trip. He did come all the way here through the mountains, after all.”
The teen wolf waved a hand dismissively. “I’ve got enough energy in me for a game or two. That honey tart gave me some extra fuel.”
“Then let's jump rope!” a blonde yellow cat suggested.
Gizmo glanced down at his wrist grappler, then over at a tree, stroking his chin thoughtfully. “Jump rope, huh? Well, how about this?”
He aimed the device over at the pine and fired his cable, which wrapped around the trunk a few times. The hero made sure to tug on it to check that it was taut, and once he was certain, Gizmo flipped his hand so that he could grasp the line.
“A rope long enough for everyone at once!” he declared, getting gasps and then excited shouts from the young group.
Once they were ready, Gizmo started the game off slow. The kids kept count with him, the pace picking up just a little bit after a few consecutive motions. Most of them were able to keep up, and for a few, it was too easy, but not so much for the remaining few. No one got mad when the cable hit anyone’s feet or anything else that forced them to start over, though, which the wolf found rather sweet.
“Oh my, that certainly looks like a fun and creative use of a grappling line!” came a voice that made Gizmo’s skin crawl.
The teen stopped what he was doing and turned his head, his eyes widening when he saw who had been talking. There was no mistaking that rotund and burly egg-like torso, those long and spindly arms and legs, that bright red nose, and that bushy mahogany mustache. Aside from his tinted blue pince-nez glasses and his white gloves, the man’s outfit was entirely different from what the wolf saw before. It now consisted of a simple pink shirt with a white collar, green overalls with a center pocket stuffed with a few tools, and pink and green slippers.
“Gizmo?” one of the children called to him, “what’s wrong?”
The wolf snapped the cable back into his grappler, momentarily startling the young ones. His other hand drew his Cube Wispon, orange eyes staring down the human and free hand gesturing for the others to stay back. He felt his head start to burn as white-hot anger welled up from within, and the jovial-looking fellow in front of him started to resemble a more nefarious figure. The same one that had taken so much from so many, including himself. He had survived the last battle and was right here in front of him.
“Eggman!” he yelled furiously, aiming his grappler at the doctor.
“I beg your pardon?” the human remarked with confusion, letting out a frightened shout when the wolf fired and bound him up.
Gizmo pulled him in while raising his azure hammer in preparation for bringing it down on the other’s bald, shiny head. He was positively incensed, intent on making the doctor pay for all the lives he’d taken and ruined, and all the destruction he’d spread across the planet. Sure, this would only be a taste of what the man really deserved, but dang it if it wouldn’t bring the ex-rookie some catharsis!
“No!” the rat boy cried out, putting himself between the wolf and the doctor with his arms spread, “Gizmo, don’t hurt Mr. Tinker!”
He was soon joined by some of the other kids, who formed a protective line in front of Eggman! Gizmo’s anger was replaced by bewilderment, and he lowered his weapon arm. However, he didn’t release the man from his grappling wire; he was certain this had to be some kind of trick. Eggman had previously fooled people into thinking he'd turned over a new leaf, including Sonic, so he was wary of this supposed change of heart.
“Why are you defending him?” he asked the children, barely holding himself back from screaming the words, “don’t you know what he’s done!?”
He felt a hand gently rest on his shoulder, and he turned to see Scruffy fixing him with a gaze that was serious, yet also understanding.
“Please, Gizmo, release him,” he implored the wolf, “I will explain everything.”
Between the elder and the children, the wolf relented and untied the human.
“If I’ve done anything to upset you, I apologize for not being able to recall,” Eggman told Gizmo, “but then again, I’m afraid I don’t remember much of anything.”
The teen pup was skeptical of the claim, but he kept quiet and looked over at Scruffy. The old goat cleared his throat and straightened up.
“We’re still not sure how he arrived, but we locked him up immediately after we found him. However, we found he’d broken out the next day just to reinforce his own cell.” The elder stroked his beard and sighed. “We questioned him and tested him for days, yet he never once showed signs of his old, villainous ways. Once we realized he wasn’t–well, himself–we nursed his wounds and took him in.” He glanced over at the windmill that made the village’s name proud. “From the largest, most grueling efforts to the smallest, most delicate work, he repaired anything we brought him.” He looked back at Gizmo with sympathy in his eyes. “I know Dr. Eggman is a terrible man. I’ve heard stories of horrors I can hardly imagine, and so I can understand the feelings you might have towards him.” He frowned a tad. “But Mr. Tinker has been a blessing to our village, and it would be a shame if he were to rot and do nothing when he has the chance to do good.”
Gizmo frowned and crossed his arms as he bowed his head. If Eggman was acting, he’d thoroughly fooled the villagers. But if that was the case, why go to such lengths? What was the point of hiding here, letting his forces run around without direction for nearly a month? Still, he couldn't entirely dismiss the possibility.
“I want to believe you, Elder Scruffy,” the teen said with some frustration, “but I just don’t know. I’d have to see for myself if this is for real.”
“Very well. I will defer to you on this, young hero. I only ask that you do not harm Mr. Tinker while you are here.”
Gizmo spent the rest of that day and the next one shadowing Mr. Tinker and asking him the occasional questions. He'd shown no signs of recognition with the latter, and there was nothing overtly fishy about his actions. It was quite the opposite, actually; the man indeed fixed anything brought to his attention, happily and readily to boot. The wolf eventually ran out of inquiries and reasons to tail the fellow, so on the third day, he decided to have a more normal conversation with him.
Or he would have, if matters didn't take another turn while he was on his way to meet with the man.
“What the?! Is that who I think it is?” came a familiar voice.
Gizmo spun around and was equally shocked at who he saw. It was none other than Espio the Chameleon, Charmy Bee, and Vector the Crocodile, the trio collectively known as...
“Team Chaotix!” the wolf exclaimed.
“You're here too, buddy?” Charmy wondered, before just shrugging and smiling, “neat!”
“An interesting coincidence, to be sure,” Espio remarked.
Vector came up to Gizmo and gave him a firm pat on the back, almost knocking the wolf over. “Good to see you, kid! But I gotta ask, what're you doing all the way out here?”
“I found this place while traveling,” he told them, “and I've spent the past couple of days here. What about you guys?”
Espio glanced at his boss, who gave him a nod of approval. “We received an anonymous tip that Dr. Eggman might be in this village.”
“Hopefully it's for real,” Vector said with a long-suffering sigh, “we've been trying to track him down after the War ended, and we've had no luck so far.”
‘If someone told them that Eggman's here,’ Gizmo thought, ‘does that mean whoever it was saw me too? But then, the Chaotix were surprised to see me, so maybe not?’
The wolf hesitated for a moment before deciding to spill the beans.
“Well, I haven't just been hanging around while I’ve been here...”
It took him a short while to catch the trio up to speed, who naturally asked many questions. Once he was done, Vector hummed and crossed his arms.
“Thanks for the help, kid,” he said appreciatively, “although even with you and the villagers vouching for him, we gotta make sure the doc's not pulling a fast one.”
“I'm not entirely convinced,” Gizmo admitted, “but at the same time, I can’t see why he’d go through all this trouble.” He shrugged a bit. “Anyway, I guess I'll leave the rest to you guys. I'm going to keep on moving.”
“If you run into Sonic, please send him our way,” Espio requested, “I'm certain he would be interested to know about all of this.”
Charmy giggled. “See ya soon, buddy! Don't be a stranger!”
Gizmo smiled and went to do as he intended to. He thanked each of the villagers for their help and hospitality, and while he was still unsure, he kept up a friendly face when he got to Mr. Tinker.
“I'm sorry for jumping the gun the other day,” he apologized to the man while shaking his hand, “I hope next time we meet, Mr. Tinker, it'll be more normal.”
“I look forward to that, Gizmo,” Mr. Tinker replied kindly, “and if you ever need something fixed, I'd be happy to help!”
“Heh, I'll keep that in mind.” He started towards the edge of town and waved at the crowd. “Take care, everyone!”
With that, Gizmo took his leave and became a verdigris blur as he dashed off into the distance. Although he wasn’t sure where he should start looking, the wolf concluded that finding Sonic was probably the best course of action right now. Like Espio said, the hedgehog would definitely want to hear about what happened.
Deep in the jungle of the Mystic Ruins, the old base of Dr. Eggman, known as the Final Egg, had recently been occupied by someone new. This person went through the trouble of activating units that the human would’ve considered obsolete and got the place in working condition with their aid. He hadn’t done this for his own sake, though, and that aside, there was yet more work to do.
The being was an anthropomorphic platypus with white fur that covered most of his body. His bill was dark gray and narrow, and he possessed red eyes with even deeper gray eyelids, and a thick tail. He also sported three thick hair turfs that were combed over the right side of his head, the front-most one possessing a gray highlight. For attire, he wore a satin purple shirt with golden cuff links, a red-violet vest, and orange pince-nez glasses. He had a webbed brown glove over his left hand with a gold insertion clip and golden-tipped fingertips, as well as a darker brown ring on the palm of the glove. Lastly, he wore brown boots with golden buckles, red-violet soles, medium-high heels, and upward-turned pointy toes with light red-violet socks underneath.
“Even with all the refurbishing, there are some things that simply cannot be done without the doctor present,” he said to himself while working at a console, “if only I had some hint as to where he may be.”
The platypus swapped through the displays to monitor the units he’d sent from here and other former Eggman Empire bases. A few towns fighting back against robots here, other Badniks moving supplies there, the Rookie Hero of the War running towards the location of the last Chaos Emerald–
“Wait a minute.”
He zoomed in on the feed of the green-blue wolf that sprinted down the mountains and across the plains just beyond them. Sure enough, it was the teen that had become a rising star during the last days of the conflict. The one observing him was honestly a bit surprised that it had taken this long to locate the newest ally of Sonic the Hedgehog. Sure, he didn’t exactly stand out compared to the Blue Blur, but given his contribution during the War, the wolf wasn’t someone he could ignore.
“Hmm, now this presents an interesting scenario,” mused the monotreme, “I could simply warp to where the Chaos Emerald is and take it before he arrives.” He steepled his fingers together contemplatively. “However, perhaps I should use this opportunity to nip a potential problem in the bud. A competent enough ambush would suffice for getting rid of him.” A smirk crossed his beak as he momentarily regarded his left hand’s glove. “Although, bringing him over to my side could be rather beneficial.” He changed one screen yet again, its contents reflected in his glasses. “And in the event I cannot end him or sway him to my cause, there is another tantalizing option. It may delay my plans for this project, but I believe the results would be well worth it.”