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THE CHRONICLES OF FINALGAMER Return To Sender

"The best laid schemes o' mice and men Gang aft a-gley; And leave us naught but grief and pain For promised joy." To A Mouse, Robert Burns

"Is he doin' anything yet?" said a moron's voice. "Not yet," replied a squawk, "not even moved!" "Didya poke 'im yet?!" "Uh yeah, of course I did!" "...maybe we need a DIFFERENT stick!" "Wha-how is ANOTHER stick gonna help?!" "I dunno, maybe it's like puttin' in a different socket!" "...he's not a robot you dummy, he's a...thing!" "You think it's dead?" "Naaaah his heart's still beatin'! ...I mean, I think it is, that's how it works right?!" "I dunno! I don't have a heart!" "Neither do I! Why don't you go get that book over by the tank?!" "Awww do I have to? It's all the way over theeeere!" "Well yer the one with wheels so roll out fatboy!" "I'm not fat, It's just plate-metal!" "Nnnngh..." The sound of the creature's groans came to their ears as they slightly panicked. "Huh?!" "He's wakin' up!" "Quick, act like ya mean business!" The moment James opened his eyes, he smiled slightly at what he would see. Gone was the dark depressing evening of a dying city's lights, but now another world entirely. A clear blue beautiful sky above, as he noticed that he was sitting inside some sort of half-open steel container. Two robots stared down at him, their metal joints easily noticeable by the large screwed bolts within them. A lanky grey rooster around 6'5'' with wide eyes and short beak, and a strange green tank-like machine half his height with dials for eyes and a drill for a nose all at a clunky 3'2''. He also had drills for arms, his legs being two large tank treads which slowly crawled forwards as he tapped lightly at FG's head, the drill at rest and not spinning as he spoke boldly with a moronic odd voice. "Okay now, youuuu better not do anythin' while we're around!" "Uh...what?" asked FG. "He said don't try anythin' dino boy!" said the chicken. "Or else!" "Or else what?" "Or...or..." "Or I'm gonna drill ya!" said the tank. "Yeah, you better watch it!" "Oh wow, THREE drills?" said FG unafraid. "Somebody's compensating." "Shuddup!" A metal wingslap to the raptor's face stung quite a bit as he shut up and let himself try to get as comfortable as he could, realising that once again he had been bound up by restraints behind his back. He started wondering on how many times he had found himself tied up in front of weird creatures. But he was curious of the two robots, asking: "Can I at least ask where I am?" "Uh, NO!" said the chicken, "that's top secret!" "Why?" "Cuz it is!" "Why?" "Cuz...cuz it's top secret, sheesh yer a dummy arentcha?!" "Takes one to know one right?" "Right! ...wait, what you say about me?!" "I think he uh called you a dummy Scratch," said the drill-tank. "WHA-BUH, IDIOT!" The one known as Scratch slapped his shorter friend hard across the face, to the point that the head itself literally spun right round in a circle. "Now he knows my name! Nice going, GROUNDER!" "Wha-HEY, don't tell him my name too!" "OOPS, guess I'm a dummy then!" "You sure are," added FG. "SHUDDUP! Grounder, cummere!"

The two robots left FG briefly as they began to argue amongst themselves, the raptor sighing with some relief at the sight of a gorgeous-looking exterior. He noticed that the steel container he was in was rather old, but it had been well-lived in with a small table and a single chair along with a radio, all of which sat neatly in the shade in a corner. James felt somewhat at peace despite the rather rude awakening of the two robots, but he appreciated anything after the last world he had been to. He also noticed the odd pile of garbage and scrap metal somewhere off in the distance. "Well, this is more like it," said FG to himself, "nice sunny sky, cool morning shade, no zombies or other raptors trying to kill me...and two funny dipshits who think they've captured me. Yep. This is the life. And Michael's safe along with everybody else...hmmm..." He softly reflected on his escape from Raccoon City. His last goodbye to Michael with utmost certainty that they would escape home free, his spirit far more at peace than it had been before. It was almost as if the past month had just simply washed away from his mind, so long as he did not delve too deeply into such memories. He shook his head however at the last thoughts he had before arriving into this world, but only for a brief time. "Sorry for tricking you Roy. Can't let you kill me just yet...still need to find a good way out of here, back home and maybe get rid of this thing inside me...these aren't unbreakable are they? ...nope, they're not, awesome, I'll just let them come back and sneak out once they get tired of guard duty, won't be too long. ...wonder if this is a whole world of robots or one of those mixed-race deals? ...wait, am I in a scrap yard?" Eventually he heard the two come back and awaited their interrogation, the taller chicken Scratch starting strong with: "ALRIGH' buster, you better tell us what yer plans are fer comin' here, or else we'll pulverise ya!" "With what?" "We got a crane out there just right fer crushin' little weeds like you, and unless you wanna be a pocket dino, you better fess up!" "YEAH fess up!" said Grounder. "I dunno," shrugged FG. "...huh?!" "I dunno, I just arrived here out of nowhere, I must have teleported in by accident." "...he DID just come here out of thin air Scratch." "That's baloney!" said Scratch. "You gotta be hidin' some serious technostuff to be able to do that, who do ya work for?!" "...I work for Umbrella," said James smugly. "Who?!" "You don't know? My name is James Campbell, I'm...special ops with the Umbrella Corporation, I was scouting out the area for property values. I didn't know this area was already owned, I assumed it was just abandoned." "Well it ain't, cuz this is our patch!" "Now now, let's not be hasty, we can make a deal. Who do you two work for?" "Us?! WE are with the great and powerful Dr. Robotnik!" "...who?" "Wha?! You mean you came all the way out here and you don't even KNOW the great Dr. Robotnik?! BUHA-HAHAAAAAAA!"

The chicken made a mocking irritating laugh like a bad imitation of a hiccuping rooster, his digger friend giggling moronically as the rooster continued in his clucking voice. "Dr Robotnik is the greatest scientific mind ever! He's our master, and he's gonna take over this world and make it into one beautiful robotic paradise where we can all live happily under him...hhaaaaa..." A strange wistful sigh came from him, the raptor's eyes rolling at the ludicrous fantasy. "Riiiight, some kinda robot metropolis huh? You sure you don't have some bolts loose or something, you've been sitting around in this scrap heap for an awful long time." "I WASN'T SCRAP, I WAS GUARDING IT, WHO SAID ANYTHING ABOUT SCRAP?!" The sudden outburst made him see a streak of fear in the rooster's eyes. He knew it plenty well enough in himself and others to want to goad it more. "Okaaay...why are you guarding this scrap heap then?" "It's super important scrap here! It's uh...got lotsa spare parts! Dr. Robotnik always needs some!" "And he couldn't just take it with him?" "Nope!" "Why not? He sounds pretty smart, he could have made some way to carry it all with him." "...SHUDDUP!" Another wingslap for questioning when the chickenbot caught up with himself, stinging of steel before the two robots turned away. He ordered his shorter friend: "Grounder, let's leave this jerkwad and keep up the sentrywork!" "Uhhh, ya sure he won't escape or summin'?" "Oh what's he gonna do, burn through it?! BUHA-HAHAAAAA!" What a fucking annoying laugh for a robot, thought FG. Buuuut least they're not harmless, that makes things easy. ...hey, where'd my scissors go-OH, there it is, hard to see in the dark with all this sunlight here. ...you better be all full after the shit you've done the past few days, fucking demon asshole. With darkened glance towards the scissors laying in a heap nearby, James readily began to undo his restraints through the power of nano-fuelled fire, heating up the old metal chains before melting through the middle section. Once the metal had weakened enough, he snapped it free from behind his back and threw off the chains, finding that they had been knotted around his wrists rather than using actual clasps. Just like the Gangplank Galleon was...wait, shit I didn't know about my powers back then, hah. Alright, phase one complete, now to scout the area in case of more robots. Sneaking out with both scissors and satchel in tow, the raptor headed into the sunlight itself, a blindingly brilliant morning light that made him feel somewhat more at peace. His mind had been cleared, he felt no immediate dangers in the surrounding area, and from what he could tell by his current vantage point, there appeared to be no other robots in the area. His vantage point being now the top of the steel container, briefly scoping out the area from all around him. It was an enormous industrial area, possibly an old abandoned harbour walled in with the exception of a huge set of iron doors that seemed forever closed. It stood near the ocean, the other closed set of doors at the opposite end leading out towards a wide open sea, between two pairs of long-disused orange tower cranes rusting away by themselves. The container he stood on was in itself piled on top of a large sturdy scrap mountain, where various gears and bolts and other such things had been left to rust, possibly forever. Beyond the wall itself was nothing but pure green hills and high-rise mountains.

He could see that his two captors were off scouting the perimeter on a set path, as he slowly began to climb down the scrap metal hill. Despite the rather uneven terrain of parts made from both steel and glass, he was able to make it downhill until reaching the bare ground, bereft of green as he walked towards the iron doors. Neither of them seemed to open, too large to do so by himself with no access or means to open them. No button, no caller, no guard even. James started to look further, the various piles of refuse all around him at various heights and degrees of uselessness. After a short while of wandering aimlessly between scrap hills and mountain piles, he ducked into an abandoned hut that once seemed to belong to a foreman. A cabin of sorts of long rectangular length, it had several rooms of old beanbag chairs and broken-down PCs, the last of which had some interesting papers attached via an old clipboard. Most of it however was notes dated at an uncertain time, referencing both Dr. Robotnik and various shipments of old parts. Nothing of interest to indicate where he was, except for some location areas. "Chemical Plant Zone...Metropolis Zone...Scrap Brain Zone, lots of zones down here, I wonder what place this really is? ...wait, there's a lot of complex machinery listed down here, like super high-tech it seems...huh...I wonder. Maybe this doctor might have found a way to...yeah. Better than nothing I guess, now just to find a way out of here. ...maybe those two are stupid enough to believe anything...with the right qualifications. And I bet they just might know where this good doctor is." He pored over the various documents with a plan set in motion, taking apart the old papers and reassembling them into something viable a half hour later. A few choice words here, an official logo there, and all he needed was to find the two robots again somewhere out in the scrap yard. An hour later, Scratch walked up to Grounder who was stoically guarding the north side of the area, which faced directly at an unscalable wall. "Hey holehead," said Scratch, "any luck?" "Mmmmnope, still a wall!" "Cool, keep it up!" "Can do! Maybe we'll grab ourselves a juicy promotion from Dr. Robotnik soon!" "Heh...sure...bet we will." They waited watching for a while, the rooster looking slightly downwards to the ground with a listless gaze. Soon a voice came from behind them, saying: "Well well well, look who's got nothing better to do." "Huh?!" Grounder turned on his tracks, along with Scratch who saw FG standing before them openly. "Hey, yer out of yer chains, get back in dere!" "Sorry boys, but I'm planning on leaving this dump and you two ain't gonna stop me." "OH YEAH!?" said Scratch. "Well there's two of us an' only ONE of you! Whatcha gonna do about that huh?!" "This." Swinging out his scissors with a flourish, he grinned cockily towards them as they braced themselves for a fight. He noted already how nervous they were by the sight of the dull-yet-gleaming blades, as the raptor taunted them with a beckoning gesture. Even though his scissors were not sharp enough to pierce through solid steel, he knew that they did more than enough damage by dull strikes alone. "Now...who wants to join the scrap heap first?" "GET 'IM!"

The chicken ran forwards first, his slender yellow legs tearing across the ground as he tried to strike at FG with his wings, but the raptor easily anticipated the attack and blocked it with his blades. He responded with a heavy strike down onto Scratch's head, knocking him to the ground as his tank-shaped friend rolled up as furiously as possible. James simply dodged the double-strike of drills that tried to punch at him, almost reminded of his days in training with his beedrill Spike. When Grounder pulled back for a fierce thrusting blow, the raptor striked his drill hand away to leave him faltering wide open for an attack, before he whacked across the head hard. Cracking across the drill nose itself, he literally made the robot's head spin backwards, causing him to roll around the area with no sense of direction. "WAAAAH! Wh-where'd ya go!? Where'd he go?!" The rooster however had recovered and went straight for FG, striking at him with his wings which had as much strength in them as a wet towel. As fast as Scratch could strike, his strenght was surprisingly weak for a machine. The raptor easily blocked him again and again, teasing the robot with feinting swings of his scissors while effortlessly knocking away the steel wings like they were paper fans. Eventually Scratch tried to wail on him with swinging windmill-arm fists screaming with a childish rage, which only gave him a swift crack to the back of his head with the flatside of the scissors after FG dodged to the side. Growling with rage through his beak, he started to try and kick at him with his long chicken legs, gangly and uneven, unable to even hit him with enough force. They went slowly up towards his face, a clear show of effort from the rather weak robot before FG simply struck down hard upon one knee, and sent a painful vibration throughout the chicken's body. "OW, MY KNEE! YOU JERK, I'LL MAKE YOU-DOWWWW MY FOOT! MY FOOT, YOU IDIOT!" Grounder, in his confusion for having his head on back to front, had rolled straight over Scratch's other standing leg and forced him to fall over. The tank-robot nearly bumped right up to FG, who simply sidestepped and shot out a spraying pool of water like a large puddle. Amazingly enough, the treads sped up on the water and caused Grounder to slip, making him lose control and skid wildly towards Scratch. With both robots out of commission, or at least knocked out enough to think twice about fighting, James walked up to them and smiled down at their dazed complexions, pupils spinning in their electric eyes. "Not bad...not bad at all. Lessee..." He pulled out a clipboard from his satchel as well as a pen he found, ticking off some sort of checklist that he himself had composed. "Interrogation techniques...C. Combat capabilities...D. Loooooot of spirit but, tsk tsk tsk tsk tsk...need to work on your technique. Dedication to Dr. Robotnik....A...plus. Yeah...I think you guys are ready now." "H-huh?!" said both. "Whaddaya mean?!" "Congratulations. You have been chosen to leave your post by order of Dr. Robotnik, and accompany yourselves back to his headquarters. I even have a message from him stating such."

Both of them gasped with surprise, struggling to get up with jumbled haste as their arms almost tangled each other up, with Grounder excitably saying: "Dr Robotnik!?!? He gave us a message!?!!? Oh BOY, Scratch buddy didya hear that, we're gonna get promoted I knew it!" "Woah woah woah," said the chickenbot. "YOU'RE a messenger of Robotnik?!" "Yep...I'm pretty good at being undercover dontcha think?" "But...you don't even LOOK like a badnik, why didn't he send a robot huh?!?" "Because I'm a new model." The raptor posed with a turn of the leg and a twirl of his fingers, spindling his claws in front of them with a small show before popping an imaginary collar at his neck. "Say hello to the all-new F.G. 01 model. Original, do not steal, all rights reserved thank you. Human level of intelligence, no need for oil upkeep, very low-maintenance and self-repairing energy cost, top of the range nano-molecular devices that allow control of up to THREE elements of nature including fire, water and air." "Wooooah," said Grounder who circled around him with curious eyes. "Yer a pretty spiffy machine, I can't even see the joints!" "Hehehehe, all internal processing baby. I may not be as hardy as you guys are with your steel bodies and generator units but...I'm more of a scouting unit. All about speed and blending in rather than uh...endurance really. Now you want this message or not?" "We sure DO!" "Alrighty." He brought out a random scrap of paper and began to read out what they assumed was written on it. "Dear Scratch and Grounder, I have been monitoring your progress from afar as to your guarding of that most invaluable scrap heap. Now the time has come to move on, as it is no longer considered viable for use when we have found an even BETTER one elsewhere. Your mission is to traverse back to me for a further debriefing." "YAAAAAAY!" squealed Grounder. "We get to meet Robotnik again!" "HOWEVER!" continued the raptor with flair dramatique, "you will have to find me after a long journey of using what senses I have given you. I expect all of my robots to be at full capacity, and able to handle themselves against all the elements. If you cannot even handle that, then you are of no use to me. I hope to see you soon. Yours sincerely, Dr. Robotnik."

He threw the paper away, scrunching it into a tiny ball far into the junkpile whilst Grounder's eyes teared up at the message. Scratch, while clearly taken in by the ruse, was sensing some other emotion with his eyes wide open, almost unblinking in shock as his moletank friend said: "He...he wants us to see him? Oh...S-scratch buddy, he wants to see us!" "I heard it too numbnuts!" said the chicken. "Where is he!? Did he move somewhere else!?" He directed the question to the "messenger" who said: "He's at the same place you last met him, don't worry. I'll guide you along but you boys gotta lead the way...that's what he said. I will also be grading the two of you and how you both work together as a single unit. So I wanna see you give me one-hundred-percent out there! No substitutes!" "If we're gonna see Robotnik again then we're ON IT sir! BUHA-HAHAAAAAAA!" "Huhuhu yeah!" said the drillbot, "we're gonna be the best badniks ever!" "Hell yeah, come on Grounder! So, what exactly are you uh...sir?" "Just call me FG. And I'm the only one of my kind, the FinalGamer model, one of the first in a long line of potential other Gamer models. There was this other one that they were working on, a MasterGamer model I believe...hope we don't meet him, he's kind of an ass." "Whysat?!" "He uh...he...um...what the hell was it again...they said it was some kind of...com...compu...com-pati-bility issue, YEAH that's it, compatibility issue. So, if you ever see a guy like that, DON'T tell him about me, alright?" "Oh yeah yeah, we TOTALLY know all about those!" said Scratch. "I mean, when we got first made, we weren't compatible with ANYONE but each other, that's why Dr. Robotnik always puts us together! We were like uhhh a-a-a special socket and plug thing, yanno, like one of those weird ones that fit nowhere else!" And practically just as useless, thought FG. The way these two fought was worse than two clowns having a fucking seizure. "So why'd it take so long?!" asked the rooster. "You guys weren't ready," said FG, "I was just your test but after your months of patience you're now ready. Your first test however, that is your first REAL one, is to get out of this scrap yard by any means necessary. I'll assist you because well, there IS no way out of here normally. You got a lot of ideas around here, piles of metal, two huge cranes, so let's see how well your brains are working." He tapped his own head with a wink as the two looked at each other, feeling rather uncertain but also rather excited to finally be out of the scrap yard. James wondered if they had never tried to do so before out of loyalty or ignorance. Regardless, the two robots began to scope out the place, the raptor in turn searching with them to find whatever parts could be used to make an escape with. In turn the two robots also brought along backpacks they had found for carrying any future tools of importance, taking advice from FG to do so.

What followed in their first task was a rather bizarre two-hour exploration of the trash heaps around them, trying to devise various ideas on how to escape their predicament as they dug mindlessly through garbage with all sorts of oddities amongst them. As they piled up various ideas and tactics on how to climb or launch over the walls, none of which they had either the skill, technology or patience to even attempt, they realised that there was three major problems before them. The first problem was that the walls around them were high and unscalable, even for FG and his claws. Secondly, the walls themselves had no parapets or top sections to hook anything onto. Thirdly, there was no way of opening the doors except for a special electronic signal that none of them knew or had. Third, and finally, the cranes that seemed such an obvious means of escape, were also impossible to climb due to their rusted steel frames covered over with sleek plated shields. Many a strange and bizarre question would occur between both raptor and badniks on various items of no importance. Why did ropes have different lengths and sizes? Why were there so few shiny items laying around in scrap metal? What would the aerodynamic principles of a toilet seat be if it were used to become a boomerang? And why was there always at least one kitchen sink within every single pile of trash? All mysteries to which only one would ever be explained, as the sound of a plastic toilet seat clacked against the top of a steel crane. "HAH, NAILED IT!" squawked Scratch. "I can't believe that actually worked," said FG. "I dunno whether to call you two idiots or geniuses." "Awwww shucks, ya don't mean tha-wait, which one didya mean?" "...never mind, anyways I'll climb this one." The toilet seat had made a rather impromptu grappling hook with a long rope hanging down from it. The raptor grabbed onto the rope, seeing the plastic seat had nicely latched itself around the crane's metallic job, swinging around the extending front enough times through sheer momentum to become a good hold as he climbed upwards. He hadn't used a rope in years, or at least it felt like it as he struggled upwards over the course of 20 minutes.

Thankfully his upper arm strength was far better than it had been years before, as he found himself climbing into the crane's control room, the operating cabin. A few levers and various switches were all inviting themselves to be touched, the long period of disuse be it years or months having left more than a few layers of dust upon them. He wasn't even sure if it still worked, but he had to try. Pressing some of them seemed to not work, not even stirring the machine to life as he peeked out of the operating cabin and cried: "IT DOESN'T WORK!" "IS THERE A KEY UP THERE?!" shouted Scratch. "NO! NOT EVEN A KEYHOLE, LOOKS LIKE THIS CRANE'S POWERED UP REMOTELY! SEE IF YOU CAN'T FIND THE BATTERY!" "OKAY!" The two badniks scouted out along the back of the crane, finding that there was indeed a huge set of cables piling out from behind the base of the machine. The thick electrical pythons slithered all the way up towards a large generator the size of a vending machine, as Grounder called out: "WE FOUND SOME CABLES! WHUDDAWE DO WITH 'EM?!" "IS THERE A BATTERY NEARBY?!" asked FG. "UHHHH...YEAH!" "GREAT! JUST GIVE IT SOME JUICE IF IT STILL WORKS!" "OKAY! ...um, how we gonna do that?" "Lemme show ya!" said Scratch. The chickenbot walked up to the generator looking for a power charger socket, seeing that it required jumper cables as he rushed off quickly to find some that he had found in a pile nearby. With a red hose around his neck that ended in two pliers, he clamped one end to the generator before saying: "Okay, now you gotta open up my back and clamp it down on my main cable!" "Okay! ...uhhh...Scratch?" "What?" "I don't have hands!" "DOH for pete's sake, gimme those!" Annoyed by his friend's disability, he snatched the cable end from the tank's fumbling drill-arms and smacked him around by kicking his treads before opening up his back. The back of his friend was a large blocky-looking mess of cables all twirling both up and down the inside of his body, dealing with everything from sensory input to motor coordination. Scratch knew it well, he liked to occasionally screw with his motor skills whenever he annoyed him by switching wires in his sleep. Every badnik knew their basic maintenance, as Scratch jammed both hands into the mess of wires. "H-HEY, whuddaya doin-OOOF! OW that hurts!" "Don't be such a baby you had worse!" "Well yeah! But I never had anyone open me up like that an-AAAAHHHHHH! THAT'S COLD, TAKE IT OUT!" Scratch managed to connect the jumper to the main cable inside Grounder's body, siphoning a part of the constant energy within him to charge up the generator for a short amount of time. The drill-tank sputtered slightly from the strange sudden feeling of his energy being fed off of, a weakening sensation that made him rather worried until James' voice from above signalled some success. "HEY! THE CRANE'S WORKING!" "AWESOME, NOW GET US OUTTA HERE!" "NO PROBLEM!"

The crane was surprisingly easy to manage, considering they were supposedly complex machines to maintain, but this one was clearly the exception. All the raptor needed to do was lower the hook onto a small crate, which Scratch and Grounder would sit on after unplugging Grounder from the now minimally-charged generator, turn the jib all the way towards the east and lower the crate over the wall itself. James would follow soon after as he ran across the crane's jutting arm and slid down the hook itself. What they saw beyond the dockyard walls was something they did not expect. A pure blue ocean to their right, spanning far towards the south horizon. To their left, green hills and pristine hilltops reaching as far as the eye could see, with beautiful sunflowers sprouting all along the land rise. Occasionally he saw a very bizarre instance of a natural circular loop in the distance, made purely of dirt yet as smooth as a dirt track on the inside. James had noticed from the top of the crane a few odd areas such as an oil refinery, a neon city, and a tall tower of machinery that pierced the very skies themselves, all at the opposite side of the large mountain areas. But for now, all three of them were more concerned by the magnificent pure forest ahead of them, high-rising trees of thickened oak and almost perfectly preserved even. The trees almost crushed against each other's roots for how thickly encroaching the forest was, but the sunlight was very clear inbetween them. Despite the odd unkept heap of metal here and there, more garbage than even the scrap within the dock walls, it was a beautifully simple-looking land. James was almost reminded of the Mushroom Kingdom in how vivid it was, despite a more unusual feel of geography in its very outlook. Scratch was busily on his knees whimpering with bliss as his wings rubbed across the smooth cool grass, moaning with relief as he murmured: "Free...finally free...h-hohoh..." "You okay?" "UH, y-yeah, just uh...testing theeeee soil, YEP, that there's some uh good soil right here! Plant yerself a lotta flowers with that!" "Why you wanna plant flowers?" said Grounder. "I thought you didn't even like flowers." "SOME PEOPLE DO! Maybe he does!" "I don't really," said FG. "Well...you never know, come on, let's go! We gotta go meet Dr. Robotnik and the sooner the better!" "Right, that's what I like to hear from you two, I knew you were up for this. Alright let's head on out, no idea how long it's gonna take us to get there, though in all fairness there is no real rush to get there so take your time and don't push yourselves. Alright?" "Right!" said both. "Good, you know the way back to the doctor?" "Sure do!" said Scratch. "We gotta go through the Wood Zone first, then after that we'll be able to head out to uh...uhhh Hill Top Zone! Last time we saw Dr. Robotnik was somewhere around Metropolis Zone." "Awesome, let's move out!" With a path in mind, the three walked off towards the grand expansive forest, hidden beneath the mountain cliffs while still in full view of the overshadowing sun. A short but pleasant walk was to be their first reward for escaping the scrapyard hills.