Robotnik sat on his throne, brooding over the reports of defeats that came pouring in left and right. First he had lost a refinery, and along with the refinery he had lost a perfectly good prototype Supervisor robot. And even when his troops had found the 'bot's remains he hadn't been able to get anything from the body: the Freedom Fighters had removed its memory chips. The next blow had been the bungled roboticizing of a young equine captive who had subsequently been rescued through clever guerilla- and street-warfare tactics. The last straw had been the near-capture of Princess Sally Acorn, the last of the Acorn house to be dealt with before Robotnik's usurped reign would be complete. After all, you had to remove the previous owners of the position before you really got to keep the job, or so Robotnik reasoned in the resounding metal chambers of his twisted fiendish mind. His first impulse had been to disintegrate the hoverbot who had brought the news of the Princess, but he curbed that desire as he considered the potential a Sonic-survivor must have, robot or not.

"Snively," rumbled the rotund ruler, "take this hoverbot and have him refitted. Use some of the new designs I've been working with." He paused for a moment as the cowering little human started to lead the wobbling machine away, and then called after them. "Oh, and Snively."

"Y-yes sir?" came the tremulous reply as Snively's long nose swung back into view.

"Be creative if you can."

"Right away, s-sir," stammered Snively, and then both he and the wavering robot disappeared as the door leading out closed behind them, saving them both from an uncertain and ever-present possibility of doom that constantly seemed to prevail around the forbidding despot.

Robotnik turned back to the rows of screens that lined the far wall of his throne room and began to watch the unfolding events of the past few hours once more. As he watched the rescue of the young filly he froze the screen, and then enlarged the picture it held. It was a profile shot of a tall, robed figure, an owlish beak just visible protruding from the cowl of the brown cloak, a feathered hand held out to pull a teenaged horse along into an alley as the horse pulled the filly behind him in the midst of smoke and confusion that made the picture indistinct and hazy. Though he wasn't quite sure who it was, Robotnik knew he had seen that owl somewhere before. Time may have passed, but Robotnik never forgot anything or anyone, an ability that had been one of the key points that allowed him to rise to power in the Royal Court before his takeover. For some reason, Robotnik kept thinking of old children's stories he had overheard Princess Sally Acorn's nanny tell the young princess and her friends, who later would become the Freedom Fighters of Knothole. The ex-minister had been bored at the time, and listened because he had nothing better to do. He knew they were tied somehow to the figure he saw and half-remembered a deep-rooted sense of dread that went along with the person in question and what she represented.

"One thing is certain," Robotnik rumbled in the echoing chambers of the throne room. "Things are about to become very interesting." He tapped a button on the armrest of his throne. "Manufacturing!" he barked, "get the Project under way. I need the Doomsday device up and running at double time."

"Right away, sir," came the metallic reply, which he barely heard as he switched off the intercom.

Oh yes, he thought as he sat in his chair, things are about to become very interesting indeed.

And he would be ready for them!