The corruption had permeated every fiber of the code, a treacherous ailment that burrowed deep into the core. As he cast his gaze upon the flickering lines of fluorescent light that danced across the eggnet servers, a chilling realization settled within him—a nightmarish transformation of an AI experiment gone awry. These errors were not mere anomalies; they were catastrophic failures, each line of code mirroring the insidious spread of malignant cells.

Nervously tugging at his mustache, he raked his fingers across his face, captivated by the cryptic numerical sequences and jarring neural network deviations unfolding before him.

A metallic screech from above momentarily tore his attention away from the apocalyptic scenario displayed on the screen, his eyes darting towards the ruined roof overhead. But the gravity of the situation pulled him back into the digital abyss.

Regret coursed through him; he should have analyzed this anomaly from within the egg carrier itself. Disgust twisted his lips as he recoiled at the haphazard manner in which he had handled this situation—severing infected servers like wielding a sledgehammer to excise a tumor. It was crude, uncharacteristic of his genius.

'Needs must, however,' he pondered, tapping away at the grimy keyboard. The severity of these flagged errors necessitated an on-site investigation, compelling him to witness this digital decay firsthand. He needed to devise protective measures, fortifying other areas against similar threats.

Leaning forward, his elbows digging into the cracked surface of his desk, a wheeze escaping him in disgust at his own folly, he let his fingers dance across the keys once more.

If he were to be honest with anyone but himself, if this sludge of code were to infiltrate his systems, it would spell his doom. The revelation of just how narrowly he had escaped disaster hit him like a rogue wave crashing upon the shore—hidden until he was right upon it. He hadn't even realized the extent of the danger until now. It felt as if he were an archaeologist excavating a tomb, witnessing a thousand-year-old city crumble around him. But if this corruption had spread, digging fast enough would prove futile in stopping the inevitable collapse.

This debacle originated from a seemingly innocuous experiment aimed at enhancing his soldiers based off of Orbbot and Cubot's AI capabilities. Admittedly, he had always considered programming to be their Achilles' heel, useful but requiring careful navigation and even capable of humor which grated on his nerves. It was the last which offered potential. Humor, even the awful kind, spoke of creativity.

His army's greatest flaw, a word he dared not utter aloud, was their programming. He loathed admitting it, but the messy outside world had one advantage: adaptability. Except for his best work, the backbone of his army could barely function without his direct input most of the time. This fact was proven in the ashes of his recent defeat—so close to conquering the world, only to have his millions badniks scrapped by the usually outnumbered resistance.

While quantity may hold its own quality in some scenarios, this would suggest that insects should currently be ruling the world.

And for the longest time, his inability to change that rested on his best work. His prized creations, Mecha and Metal, were renowned for their rebellious streaks every time he turned his back on them. This current situation served as a stark reminder of the perils of free-thinking that the people of this world so adored—it could spiral out of control, becoming an unbearable nuisance.

And now, here was just another example. He had implanted a neural network within this facility with the intention of making the bots' AI think more like humans. This step had been accompanied by a heightened sense of unease, prompting him to keep a close eye on their progress.

But then Infinite grew defiant, someone introduced the rodent into the equation, and chaos ensued. In the scramble that followed as the resistance rallied and other nations mobilized against him, he had forgotten about this place. Now, as he tapped a few keys to bring up the camera feeds from the day of the error to the present, he leaned back to take in the full scope of the catastrophe. The curiosity that had led him here, seeking anything useful, withered like a spluttering engine, replaced by a grim realization of the depth of disaster that had unfolded under his watch. He rubbed at his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose in an attempt to clear his mind of the digital malfeasance.

Fortunately, he was not completely in the dark amidst the ruins around him. All of his robots were equipped with live feeds for moments when he needed a personal touch during battles. Normally, he did not rely on them, but the necessity of this situation forced him to depend on those clips and snapshots of the bots' actions playing out on his screen like a living timeline.

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Rarely was he left slack-jawed, but what transpired on this island under his very nose throughout the invasion left him speechless.

Oh, the baseness of it all would have worked wonders during his campaign against the rodent and his bothersome crew. It would have been perfect...until the consequences rallied the entire world against him. No, that would not have served his prospects well. Still, he could only watch as the AI processes grew more erratic and decay seeped into every nook and cranny of their programming.

He was about to cut off the feeds after reviewing the first few files...until he saw them—the squatters. At first, he believed them to be an elite arm of the military, dressed in black uniforms and skulking about. But then they started giving orders. Giving orders to his badniks. Worse yet, these unknown individuals working alongside his bots, commanding them as if it were their right, were obeyed.

Leaning in, scouring the visions for any sign of how such a thing could be possible, his anger grew with each passing moment. "What's going on here?" he muttered to himself as he pieced together the jigsaw fragments in his mind. The invaders had proven resourceful, possessing an uncanny understanding of his systems. And then it hit him.

This was more than a glitch or bug; it bore the marks of intentional sabotage, deliberate chaos. But how? And by whom? He had always prided himself on his impenetrable security protocols...

From the dank basement, he watched as these intruders stomped around, oblivious to their subversion of his robots, their actions serving as incriminating evidence of their existence. They discussed everything from soap operas to war strategy. If there was one thing that slightly salved his outrage, it was the vindication that this was not an oversight on his part.

Whoever these people were, they did not fit into his vision of the future.

If he were to emerge victorious, it would be done his way—the elegant way, the Egg Imperial way. He would never share credit with anyone, let alone with interlopers.

There are moments in a man's life where the truth is more bitter than any poison, and this was one of those moments. He couldn't believe his eyes, or even his ears for that matter. As he typed, his fingers tapping staccato on the keyboard, a taste of bitter fury filled his mouth—the acrid tang of spoiled metal. He clenched his jaw until it clicked, fighting the urge to spit.

The severed servers trembled, sparks flying from their drives like errant fireflies. The room filled with the crackling sound of electricity as each server whined in protest. Robotic sighs and chatter echoed around him, voices speaking in binary and ones and zeros as he forced the flow of information into a deluge.

Recording it all, logging every face, every event, physically documenting the code and the specific glitch that started it all, he dared not risk his mainframes.

Once he was done, he left the crumbling facility behind. The foundries lay cold, crucibles empty. The auto-factories remained motionless as the broken conveyor belts, once used for part assembly, lay shattered by explosives. The only signs of movement, apart from himself as he strode toward his pod, were the AI-driven assembly arms. Useless welders sparked, casting a sparkling light where the holes in the ceiling or the dim glow from damaged light fixtures failed to reach. Drills and rivet guns clicked, sounding almost like insects as they operated without bolts or bits in their housing.

A heavy breeze carried the humid, thick soup of air, promising rain and distant thunder. He checked the local weather report, hijacking it from the communication relays of oceangoing vessels navigating the nearby shipping lanes.

Ah, the official start of monsoon season was upon them this week.

Any lesser creature would have to trudge through this jungle, made worse by its uneven terrain. The peculiar topography had initially drawn him to establish a base here.

The best term he could conjure was "alpine rainforest." Even as he hopped into his pod and activated the controls to lift off, the distant slopes of looming mountains stood out against the gathering clouds—a bright blue sky dusted with incoming grey clouds resembling a patch of growing mold.

Now he paid attention; the higher elevation revealed just how rugged this island truly was. The forest canopy undulated like a discarded bedsheet, with rounded humps and wavy rumpled shapes lacking any consistency.

Very little flat ground remained.

It wasn't difficult to imagine the arduousness of walking through such terrain. Countless hills and valleys wove together deceptively, cresting what appeared to be a small mountain only to reveal an even larger hill waiting beyond.

Beneath it all, like a needle in a haystack, lay his old base.

The mere thought of it made his feet metaphorically ache.

And that only compounded the trouble. True, he hadn't gone out of his way to conceal it completely, but someone, or rather several someones most likely, had found and interfered with it. This explained the individuals who had been working alongside his malfunctioning army during the invasion. But to what end? And how had they managed to do it without his knowledge?

Someone had meddled in his affairs, causing an error that cascaded throughout this facility. Such audacity would not be tolerated.

Raindrops began to patter down as the pod soared over the ocean, returning him to the waiting Egg Carrier offshore. His mind still reeled from what he had witnessed in the corrupted data and security footage. What had begun as a simple experiment in neural networks and AI learning had swiftly devolved into...that. Anarchy. Chaos. The antithesis of the orderly mechanized utopia Eggman sought to create.

No, this would not stand. He resolved himself, his hands tightening around the pod's controls. Such crude barbarism had no place in his empire.

Further investigation of the rest of the island would have to wait. For now, he would focus on analysis once he wiped the slate clean. As much as it galled him to admit, there were unknown forces at work—forces that could potentially threaten his plans for world domination. He would need to be more vigilant than ever and upgrade his security protocols across the board.

Frowning, he twirled his mustache thoughtfully as plans began to intertwine.

Before long, he found himself back on the egg ship, the hanger's bulkhead whirring shut with a hiss of pressurized hydraulics.

"Orbbot. Cubot," he addressed them without preamble, his tone as low as his mood. "I want all ships to fire upon that base. Level all the buildings, reduce them to rubble."

His grim thoughts must have been evident on his face because not even the two bumbling idiots dared to utter anything but, "Yes, sir."

It took three days of relentless bombardment, with the rain only intensifying on the second day.

Right on schedule.

As the raindrops fell, he watched the destruction unfold from his pod—his base reduced to ruins. The auto-factories lay silent, the assembly arms motionless amidst the wreckage. The once mighty structures now resembled a shattered dream, a testament to the chaos that had infiltrated his domain.

But he was not one to wallow in defeat. Rain or shine, he would rise again. He would rebuild, stronger and more determined than ever.

And those who dared to meddle in his affairs would learn the price of their audacity.