Chapter Text
The motorbike, a sleek, black predator of custom design, purred to life. Not a roar, not a rumble, but a smooth, almost silent hum that spoke of advanced technology and finely tuned power. The digital displays on the console flickered to life, a cascade of data and diagnostics flashing across the screen. Stone, with the practised nonchalance of a seasoned professional, retrieved his jacket from the back of the bike, the supple leather sliding over his suit. He then engaged in a bit of theatrical pocket-patting, a subtle performance for the benefit of unseen observers – always play to the audience, even if it's anthropomorphic aliens, he thought wryly. He produced a small USB drive, examining it with a feigned air of importance before tucking it safely into his inner pocket. With a smirk hidden beneath his helmet, he slid onto the bike, the familiar thrill of anticipation coursing through him as he twisted the throttle. The bike responded instantly, lunging forward in a blur of black against the city's vibrant neon tapestry.
Stone weaved through the labyrinthine streets, his movements precise and fluid. A gap in the traffic appeared – a hair's breadth of space between a lumbering truck and a speeding taxi. He leaned into the turn, the bike responding instantly, tyres gripping the asphalt with a screech as he threaded the needle. He glanced in his rearview mirror. A familiar blue streak caught his eye. Good.
He accelerated, the city lights blurring into streaks of neon. A red light loomed ahead – a calculated risk. He didn't brake. Instead, he downshifted, the engine screaming in protest, a visceral symphony of controlled chaos, and leaned into another impossible turn, the bike almost scraping the pavement. He could practically taste Sonic's frustration as he was forced to brake , losing precious ground. The satisfying crash of a familiar red blur smashing through a lorry echoed through the night. Serves the space porcupine right, Stone thought, a satisfied smirk tugging at his lips as he let out a laugh.
Stone emerged from the turn onto a wide, deserted avenue. The trap was just ahead: a seemingly abandoned warehouse, its open doors beckoning like a hungry maw. He glanced back. Sonic was closing the distance, his speed a blinding blur. Time to level the playing field.
He revved the engine, the growl now laced with a menacing hum. With a flick of a switch beside the brakes, a surge of raw power coursed through the bike, accompanied by a crackle of suspiciously familiar blue lightning arcing around the chassis. Stone felt the surge of power, a delicious rush of adrenaline, as he blasted past the alien pursuers, leaving Sonic’s childish wail of, “Hey! No fair! That’s cheating!” trailing in the wind.
He reached the warehouse and slammed on the brakes, the bike’s rear tyre briefly locking up and leaving a long, black skid mark etched into the asphalt – smoke trailing from the burning rubber. He killed the engine, the sudden silence amplifying the pounding of his heart. Robotnik had been reluctant to add the power of Sonic's quill to Stone's motorbike, he already hated the thing and labelled it as a death trap. But he couldn't deny that it made sense in the long run.
He dismounted, quickly and efficiently, melting into the shadows of the warehouse, leaving the bike as bait. He could hear Sonic approaching, the telltale whoosh of his super speed. The blue blur zipped past the warehouse, then skidded to a halt, doubling back to stop beside the agent’s abandoned bike. He looked around, a puzzled frown creasing his brow, then his gaze snagged on the ominous open doors of the warehouse. His eyes widened, and he shook his head vigorously, hands raised in mock surrender. “Oh no no no, I’ve seen too many horror films!” he exclaimed, spinning around and taking a few steps back. “No thank you!” he declared, only to be immediately cut off as the rest of his colourful entourage finally arrived on the scene, their expressions ranging from amused to mocking.
Knuckles let out a bellowing laugh, nearly startling a flock of pigeons into flight. He jabbed a finger at Sonic, nearly poking him in the eye. "Hah! Are you scared of the goat milker, hedgehog?" He puffed out his chest, a picture of misplaced confidence, and strode towards the warehouse's darkened entrance. "A true warrior laughs in the face of danger!" He paused at the threshold, glancing nervously at the inky blackness within before adding, in a slightly quieter voice, "Mostly." Sonic rolled his eyes, a masterclass in exasperation. "Ugh, fineeeeeee. But if we end up nearly getting sucked into a black hole, again , I'm blaming you ," he grumbled, speeding to Knuckles' side. "And if I see any ghosts, I'm out." Tails, clutching his scanner like a security blanket, flew nervously behind.
The trio cautiously entered the warehouse, Tails launching a small, buzzing drone that casts a beam of yellow light, cutting through the oppressive darkness. The air was thick with the smell of dust and disuse, the warehouse seemingly abandoned – stripped of its machinery, save for the ghostly outlines on the floor, and home only to birds’ nests clinging precariously to the exposed beams of the roof. Sonic, his voice echoing through the cavernous space, called out, “Yo, come on out, man! Are you practising your ninja moves?” His eyes, narrowed and alert, scanned the shadows. “Just give back the tech you stole – we promise we won’t tell Eggman you were playing hooky again – and you can go back to… whatever it is you do in your spare time. Making coffee? Polishing your shoes? Ironing Eggman’s… interesting fashion choices?". But silence was his only response. Silence . The barista was a slippery customer, far more sneaky than Eggman and considerably less predictable. Is he even in here?
They reached the centre of the warehouse, and Sonic spun around, ready to signal his brothers to split up and search, when a faint shimmer caught his eye. It pulsed, growing stronger, and he instinctively grabbed Knuckles and Tails’ arms, ready to whisk them away. But the shimmering intensified, expanding, revealing not one… but dozens of badniks, their metallic bodies glinting menacingly in the drone’s light. They were surrounded.
Sonic's nod was all the signal they needed. The air crackled with anticipation as the trio sprang into action, a symphony of destruction orchestrated with practised ease.
Sonic, a blue cyclone, became a blur of motion, zipping through the air with impossible speed. He ricocheted off the drones like a hyperactive pinball, each bounce sending a shockwave of explosive metal and sparking wires. The drones, clumsy and slow in comparison, struggled to track his movements, their laser fire painting streaks of harmless red across the warehouse floor.
Knuckles, a crimson force of nature, became a whirlwind of brute strength. Red sparks danced around his fists, a testament to the raw power he was about to unleash. With a guttural roar, he drove his fists through the chassis of two drones, the metallic crunch echoing through the warehouse. Not content with simply disabling them, he grabbed the mangled drones and, with a mighty heave, smashed them into each other, creating a shower of debris and a satisfying CRUNCH .
Tails, ever the strategist, kept his distance, hovering high above the fray. From his vantage point, he had a clear view of the battlefield. With precise aim, he fired his little EMP discs, each one a miniature lightning bolt. The discs struck the drones, temporarily incapacitating them with a surge of electricity, buying Sonic and Knuckles precious seconds to regroup and plan their next move.
The battle was a chaotic ballet of speed, strength, and strategy, a testament to the teamwork and skill of the three heroes. But even as they carved a path through the drones, they knew that this was just the beginning. The real challenge was yet to come. They got lost in the fight of the drones encircling them and didn't notice Stone begin to creep out from his hiding place.
The agent crept with a deadly precision, crouching down behind a concrete beam and peaking out to observe the fight. He grabbed the previously hidden weapon from behind the pillar, aiming the sight at knuckles. He smiled in anticipation when he locked on to the alien, glancing to his watch and sending a single thumbs up emoji to the doctor. He waited patiently for a few seconds before his watch vibrated softly, an excited devil emoji sent back. They were good to go. He fired.
The soft hiss of the weapon was unsettlingly quiet, a stark contrast to the usual booming report. A stream of viscous, black liquid shot towards Knuckles, who spun around in shock just as the projectile slammed into him. The echidna grunted in surprise as he was pinned to the wall, the strange goo hardening on contact. He strained against it, his powerful muscles bunching and straining as he tried to tear himself free, but the more he pulled, the more the adhesive substance seemed to grip him. Tails, a worried squeak escaping him, spun in the air and darted towards Knuckles, clearly intending to help.
Stone reached into his inner pocket, retrieving a small, heavy disc. With a dramatic flourish and a press of a button, the disc unspooled into a length of thick, metallic chain. He emerged from the shadows, a swift and purposeful figure, and with a practised flick of his wrist, sent the chain hurtling towards the concerned fox. It wrapped around Tails’s small form, binding his arms to his sides and, with a pang of regret, securing his tails as well. The little fox plummeted towards the ground. Stone, sighing internally, swiftly moved forward and caught Tails before he hit the ground. He gently placed the fox on the ground. Sue him. He had a soft spot for the little guy. The kid was adorable.
Tails glared up at Stone, a mixture of annoyance and reluctant gratitude in his eyes – he may be restrained, but he wasn’t pavement pizza. Suddenly, Sonic’s booming voice cut through the air, drawing both their attention. “Hey! What are you doing?!” he yelled, finally slowing down as he took in the scene: Knuckles glued to the wall, Tails trussed up like a Thanksgiving turkey, and Stone looming over said turkey. His quills bristled with anger, a faint electric hum rising from them, but his hesitation – a split-second of confusion – proved fatal. He didn’t see the metallic blur hurtling towards him. One moment he was there, the next he was yelping and sprawling face-first onto the concrete, a metallic boot clamped around his legs. “HA! I GOT HIM!” Robotnik’s triumphant cheer echoed through the warehouse as his Eggpod, having decloaked silently in the rafters, descended swiftly, depositing the scientist onto the warehouse floor.
Robotnik, eyes gleaming with malicious delight, practically skipped out of the Egg Pod and strutted over to Sonic, who was now hopping on his bound legs, trying to regain his balance. "I can't believe you fell for that!" he crowed, poking Sonic in the chest with a gloved finger. Sonic glared, his quills practically vibrating with indignation and embarrassment. Robotnik, still revelling in his victory, turned to Stone, a wide grin splitting his face, "I can't believe he fell for that!". Stone let out a low chuckle, a hint of amusement in his eyes. "Of course he did, Doctor. It was a deviously fantastic plan."
Sonic rolled his eyes. "How was I supposed to know you'd be here? I thought your henchman was just on another smash-and-grab supply run! You know, the usual Tuesday for you guys?" Stone snorted. "Well, yeah… that's what makes it a trap , genius." He shared an exasperated look with Robotnik, then glanced down at Tails, a hint of amusement in his eyes. "You should have known better," he teased gently. He then met Knuckles' glare with a flat, unimpressed look. "As for you… I'm not surprised."
Robotnik let out a low whistle, a smirk playing on his lips. He always enjoyed Stone’s snark. His gaze returned to Sonic. “Alright, hedgehog. You can either hop your way over to the Egg Pod, or Stone can carry you like a damsel in distress. Your choice.” His moustache twitched with amusement. Sonic groaned. “I am not being carried! And anyway, haven’t you got enough of my quills by now?! I’m gonna get bald spots at this rate!” he protested, puffing out his chest in a futile attempt at bravado.
Robotnik just rolled his eyes, nodding to Stone, who began to approach the hopping hedgehog with a predatory glint in his eyes. “Okay, okay, I’m going, jeez!” Sonic grumbled, hopping as quickly as his injured leg would allow. He reached the Egg Pod and glared at the ridiculously high step. His lips pressed into a thin line. Suddenly, with a yelp of surprise and a flurry of flailing limbs, he found himself airborne. Stone had slipped his arms under Sonic’s armpits and unceremoniously hoisted him into the Egg Pod, depositing him with a thump onto the backseat.
Sonic blinked at the agent, a flush of embarrassment creeping up his quills. "I was totally going to do it…" he mumbled defensively. Stone just rolled his eyes and patted him on the head condescendingly, a smirk playing on his lips. "Sure you were, champ, " he drawled, dangling a pair of gleaming handcuffs in front of Sonic's face. Sonic huffed, his pride clearly wounded, but he allowed Stone to snap the cuffs around his wrists, the click of the metal a stark punctuation mark to his defeat.
Stone turned his attention from the sputtering hedgehog to Robotnik, who had wandered over to Knuckles and was now poking at the echidna’s head, tugging experimentally at a few stray quills. Knuckles grumbled, shaking his head in annoyance. “Robotnik, I demand that you cease your… inquisitive actions.”
Robotnik just snickered, plucking a quill from Knuckles’s head with a quick snap . The echidna let out an undignified yelp, glaring at the doctor with a mixture of pain and indignation. Robotnik, ignoring the glare, examined the quill with scientific interest. He had no data on the specific energy that coursed through the echidna and the fox. He was fairly certain it was a form of Chaos energy, similar to Sonic’s, but he was determined to understand the nuances, the subtle differences that made each of them unique.
He turned to Stone. “Alright, Agent. Secure the… specimen,” he said, the word laced with a hint of coldness. Stone moved towards Knuckles with a practised efficiency. Robotnik then turned his attention to Tails, crouching beside the bound fox with a mischievous glint in his eye. The smile didn’t reach his eyes, though, and Tails instinctively scrambled back, trying to put some distance between himself and the scientist. Robotnik held out his hand expectantly, raising a brow. With a sigh of resignation, Tails’s fingers, still awkwardly pinned, scrabbled against his side until he managed to pluck a loose quill. Robotnik’s smile returned, the menace barely veiled beneath it. “Thank you,” he purred, snatching the quill from Tails’s grasp. He rose to his feet, turning his back on the child without another word, and sauntered back to Sonic, waiting for Stone to deliver the rest of his captives.
Robotnik froze mid-stride, a puzzled frown creasing his brow. Was that…rock?...crumbling? He turned slowly, his eyes widening as he took in the scene. Tails, that little furball, was grinning like a mischievous imp, and behind him, Knuckles was practically bursting out of his imprisonment, thanks to a tiny, yellow spider-drone that was gnawing away at the rock like a termite on a sugar cube. Stone, realizing the danger a beat too late, made a grab for the drone, but Knuckles, with a mighty roar, had already broken free, sending chunks of rock flying.
Stone hit the ground with a grunt, his plans unravelling faster than a cheap sweater. Knuckles, seizing the opportunity, surged forward, ripping the chain from around Tails with a guttural roar and crushing the metal links in his powerful grip. Robotnik’s eyebrows shot up – time to bug out! He spun on his heel and scrambled towards his Egg Pod, determined to salvage at least one captive from this mess. He leaped into the cockpit, powering the machine online in a flash, and ascended into the air, leveling his weapons at the now-rebellious trio.
Sonic, however, had other ideas. He launched himself onto Robotnik’s lap, transforming into a whirlwind of kicks and slaps aimed squarely at the doctor’s hands on the controls. He scrambled across Robotnik’s body like a caffeinated jungle cat, a miniature blue tornado of fury. Robotnik yelped in surprise, a high-pitched squeak that belied his supposed villainy, and wrestled with the space hedgehog, the ensuing struggle more comical than threatening. They flailed and slapped at each other, a ridiculous ballet of frustration, the Egg Pod lurching erratically from side to side as the controls were fumbled with.
Stone stared at the monitor, a mixture of confusion and amusement warring on his face. Knuckles and Tails, their earlier pursuit forgotten, were equally transfixed, watching the chaotic ballet with wide eyes. Knuckles leaned into Tails’s personal space, whispering (rather loudly, for a whisper) “Is that some new kind of combat style?” The fox snorted, a sound that quickly escalated into a full-blown giggle. “Nope,” he managed to choke out between laughs, before swiftly pulling a small tablet from his backpack and tapping furiously at the screen. Suddenly, the Egg Pod froze mid-air, its weapons retracting with a quiet click . Tails smirked, swiped a finger across the tablet’s display, and the Egg Pod flipped upside down, ejecting its passengers with an undignified shriek. Robotnik and Sonic landed face-first on the warehouse floor with a thump . Stone, his face a mask of barely suppressed laughter, clapped a hand over his mouth, slightly too late. A genuine bellowing laugh escaped him.
Robotnik, sprawled on the floor and tangled up with Sonic, shot a glare at Stone – a glare that could curdle milk. Sonic, sensing the danger, immediately clamped his mouth shut, his earlier bravado replaced by nervous apprehension. Stone, however, couldn't help the chuckle that escaped him. Oh, he’d pay for this later, he knew, but it was so worth it. His amusement was cut short, though, as he remembered the other two. He whirled around, just in time to be met with a charging Knuckles. The echidna slammed into Stone’s chest with the force of a runaway rhino, tackling him to the ground. Knuckles, now free of his restraints, scrabbled at Stone’s arms, trying to pin him down to give Tails an opening.
Stone wrestled with the powerful echidna, rolling across the warehouse floor in a flurry of fists and grunts – less a life-or-death struggle and more a particularly vigorous game of Twister. Distantly, he registered that Sonic was free again, neutralizing the few remaining stealth Badniks they'd brought for this trap – that little fox was a menace with a keyboard. Robotnik really needed to invest in a Tails-specific firewall, he thought wryly, even as he took a glancing blow to the shoulder.
His once-pristine black suit was now sporting a fetching layer of warehouse grime, making him look less like a suave agent and more like a chimney sweep. He brought his legs up, aiming a playful kick at Knuckles’s midsection. The echidna grunted as he was briefly detached, scrambling to his feet and launching himself at Stone again, red sparks crackling around his fists like tiny, angry Christmas lights. Stone, knowing those charged fists would knock him into next week, nimbly dodged the blows, a smirk growing on his face as he noticed Knuckles’s increasing frustration. "Stay still and fight with honour!" Knuckles bellowed, his voice echoing through the warehouse. Stone, still smirking, sidestepped another wild swing and stuck out a foot, tripping Knuckles mid-lunge. The echidna went down face-first with a thump , a cloud of dust puffing up around him. He grunted in fury, spinning around faster than Stone anticipated, a charged fist connecting squarely with Stone’s sternum. The smirk vanished, replaced by a grimace of searing pain as Stone was sent flying backwards, landing hard on his back with a oof that stole his breath.
Robotnik watched Stone’s airborne trajectory with a wince and a silent prayer for the agent’s continued existence. Right, time to vamoose. He glanced at his Egg Pod, which was now sporting more dents than a golf ball after a particularly enthusiastic driving range session. With a flick of his wrist, he sent the damaged Egg Pod careening towards Sonic and the others, hoping it would provide a sufficient distraction while he made his escape. He then summoned Stone’s motorcycle, a vehicle that looked like it had been cobbled together from whatever spare parts were lying around. He watched as Stone, miraculously recovered from his recent pummeling, scrambled to his feet and sprinted back to him, clambering onto the bike with an enthusiasm that bordered on reckless .
Robotnik sighed, eyeing the two-wheeled contraption with a distinct lack of enthusiasm. He reluctantly climbed on behind Stone, muttering about "unnecessary risks," "lack of proper safety equipment," and "the distinct possibility of ending up as roadkill." Stone, with a fond grin that Robotnik couldn't see, promptly plopped his own helmet over Robotnik's head, cutting off the litany of complaints mid-sentence.
Robotnik's muffled protests were rendered mute as Stone flicked open the visor, peering at the now-helmeted scientist with a fond playfulness. A blush, entirely unwanted and thoroughly inconvenient, crept up Robotnik's cheeks forcing him to look away. He stuck his tongue out at the approaching heroes, a gesture that was both childish and satisfying before Stone twisted the throttle with a flourish. The Egg Pod, along with several unfortunate Badniks caught in the blast radius, went BOOM just as they roared out of the warehouse, leaving a parting gift of fire, explosions, and a shower of sparks and debris that obscured the direction of their escape.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Stone slowed to a crawl as they approached the docks, pressing a few buttons to summon the crab mech. The massive machine rose from the ocean depths, its entry ramp extending smoothly across the dock. Stone drove up with practiced ease, parking the bike with a gentle click . He then stood, feigning annoyance as he tried to untangle Robotnik from his back. "I thought you hated motorcycles," he quipped, turning his head to look at the doctor, a smirk playing on his lips as he flipped open Robotnik's visor.
Robotnik pouted. "I do hate them," he grumbled, his arms tightening momentarily around Stone's waist before he reluctantly released him. "But I was… comfortable."
Stone chuckled, a fond huff escaping him, before they made their way into the lab. Robotnik, however, slumped into his chair with an exasperated sigh, muttering about how they’d nearly had them. His shoulders slumped further, and he dropped his head into his hands with a quite groan, leaning back with a dejected sigh, "Team Space Rats, 54, Team Eggman, 0," he mumbled, the self-deprecating humor barely masking his genuine frustration.
Stone frowned. This wasn’t unusual. The doctor’s excitement always seemed to unravel after a defeat, morphing into self-deprecation and a familiar descent into melancholy. It never reached the depths of despair he’d witnessed during Robotnik’s recovery from the Death Egg Robot incident, but the dimming of that spark in his eyes, the way the genius retreated into his own head, always worried Stone. And maybe it was the masochist in him, but he found the best way to help the genius was to distract him. And the best way to distract Robotnik, was to tease him.
The agent racked his mind for the best ammunition before remembering his earlier thoughts. Perfect, It needed saying anyway, and it was sure to rile the doctor. Stone couldn’t resist the smirk that crept onto his face as he began to speak, “I mean, maybe you should make some sort of anti-Tails firewall for your technology, Doctor…” He froze as the doctor spun around in his chair, his eyes narrowing as he was ripped from his brooding. Just the reaction he wanted.
“I’m sorry, who’s the genius and who’s the glorified coffee runner?” Robotnik retorted, a dangerous glint in his eyes. He narrowed his eyes, a flicker of anger in their depths as he saw the barely suppressed smirk playing on Stone’s lips. Was the agent trying to deliberately provoke him? That cheeky little… Hadn’t he laughed at him earlier too?!
Robotnik stood abruptly, pointing at the wall with a raised eyebrow. Oh, Stone was playing a dangerous game. He knew perfectly well what Robotnik wanted, but he just blinked innocently, feigning confusion. Robotnik huffed in exasperation, a glint of something dangerous in his eyes, grabbing Stone’s suit jacket and slamming him against the wall with a resounding bang . The air rushed from Stone’s lungs, and he stared up at the doctor with wide, innocent eyes.
"Aren't you in a mood, Agent?" Robotnik purred, the word laced with both playfulness and a distinct edge of menace. He leaned in, trying to intimidate the agent with his proximity. Stone snorted softly, quickly masking the sound with an innocent expression. "I have no idea what you're talking about, sir. I just think that…" He was cut off abruptly as Robotnik’s hand dove into his open mouth, fingers hooking around his back teeth and silencing him in a familiar gesture. Robotnik rolled his neck theatrically, the gesture a clear display of dominance. "That's the problem!" he hissed, his voice low and dangerous, pulling Stone closer by his mouth. "Thinking is my department."
Robotnik’s eyebrows shot up, a flicker of amusement in his eyes as Stone tried to talk around his hand. He scowled playfully, removing his hand with a dramatic flourish. “What brilliant insight do you have to share now, Agent?” he asked, a hint of sarcasm in his voice.
Stone bit his lip, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “True, thinking is your department…” He leaned back against Robotnik’s grip, the subtle shift in weight causing the doctor to loosen his hold slightly. Then, with a perfectly timed pause, the verbal dagger. “…Mine’s damage control after a certain fox gets through your ‘impenetrable’ firewalls..... Again .”
Robotnik’s mouth hung open for a moment, his mind scrambling for a comeback. But there wasn’t one. He’d been outmanoeuvred. A low growl rumbled in his chest as he dropped his hands, glaring at Stone with a mixture of annoyance and grudging admiration. It was always a surprise when Stone won their little verbal duels, but the unexpectedness of this particular retort made it all the more satisfying – and infuriating.
Stone tilts his head slightly, managing to look utterly adorable despite being a fully grown killer currently coated in enough dust and grime to rival the warehouse floor where he'd just tangled with Knuckles. Robotnik found his anger dissipating, replaced by a huff of annoyance. He brushed at the dust clinging to Stone’s jacket, the gesture almost affectionate, before turning away sharply and striding back to his chair. He glanced back at Stone, his expression unreadable. “Go get changed. And order some Mexican. That burrito place.” Stone just stared back, an expectant look on his face. Robotnik huffed, throwing his hands up in exasperation. “And I guess I’ll make a start on reviewing the code that little clever claws used while I wait...,” he mumbled, the words laced with grudging admiration.
Stone smiled, pushing himself off the wall and strolling towards Robotnik, leaning casually against the back of his chair. He leaned down and stole a quick kiss – a fleeting touch that sent a blush creeping up Robotnik’s cheeks and a thrill of something else, something warmer, through him. Damn him, he thought, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. Then, with a wink and a mischievous grin, Stone turned and darted out the door towards their quarters. “Don’t push your luck,” Robotnik called after him, a fond smile playing on his lips, “or I’m watching the next episode of La Última Pasión without you!” He knows I won't, he thought, a warmth spreading through him as he turned back to his console. A quiet contentment settled over him, the last vestiges of despair and self-doubt fading away like mist in the morning sun.
Stone had pulled him back from the brink, distracting him, grounding him, before Robotnik had even realized he was falling. Always anticipating, always acting, even when Robotnik didn’t want to hear it…
Especially when he didn’t want to hear it.
He leaned back in his chair, the soft glow of the monitor illuminating his face as he pulled up the code from the hacked Egg Pod. A quiet contentment settled over him as he began to decipher the intricate lines of the foxes virus. He let out a fond sigh as he murmured under his breath, “Tiene suerte de que lo amo.”.