Inside Midas' chamber, the air itself felt heavy—thick with heat, metal, and the quiet hum of dormant power. Towering above the center platform stood the Egg Dragoon Mk1, its massive frame casting long shadows across the walls. Midas stood atop it, partially submerged in its open cockpit, carefully adjusting the piloting system with precise, almost obsessive movements.
Further into the darkness—far from the main lights—three silhouettes rested in silence.
The Silver Sonic Mk2 units.
Each one stood motionless, deactivated, their metallic bodies reflecting faint glimmers of red emergency lights. They were massive, far heavier than any previous model. Their armor was forged from volcanic steel, layered with a rare wapool alloy that seemed to drink in the light around it. Even inactive, they radiated threat—machines not built for speed, but for destruction.
"Controls stable… response latency minimal… good…" Midas muttered under his breath, his fingers moving quickly across the interface. "Just need to initiate full power and everything falls into place…"
He closed the panel with a quiet click and climbed down, grabbing a worn, oil-stained cloth to clean his hands.
"What time is it?" he asked without looking up.
"It is currently 4 a.m., sir," came the calm, neutral reply of the system.
Midas nodded slightly. "Thank you, Ivo."
He turned, walking toward a peculiar device sitting on a nearby table—a modified laptop inspired by the Enigma machines of the Second World War, though vastly more advanced. Its surface flickered faintly with coded symbols, constantly shifting, alive in a way that felt unnatural.
"Ivo, begin full data transfer. Everything we have—move it to a secure network. Triple encryption layers. No external access."
"Yes, sir."
"Start mapping possible routes to Fish-Man Island and Jaya. I want multiple options—legal, illegal, I don't care. If there's a way there, I want it found."
"Understood."
"And another thing…" Midas paused, resting one hand on the Enigma device. "Transfer all stolen research related to the Flame Mother into an isolated encrypted archive. I don't want a single byte exposed."
A brief silence.
"Continue the infiltration of Punk Records. I need everything—lineage factor data, Judge's experiments, Lunarian biology, Buccaneer physiology… Kuma, King… every detail. No filters."
"Yes, sir."
For a moment, the only sound was the quiet processing of commands.
Then—
"Sir… Vegapunk and his satellites are at the door."
Midas stopped.
"…Ah."
No surprise. No tension. Just acknowledgment.
Slowly, the massive steel doors at the far end of the chamber began to open, their movement echoing like distant thunder.
Midas didn't turn immediately.
Instead, he reached over and pressed a single key on the Enigma laptop.
Deep within the room—barely audible—a low mechanical hum began.
Something had awakened.
"Midas…" Vegapunk's voice echoed as the doors fully opened. "I believe you already know why we're here."
Only then did Midas close the laptop and pick it up, tucking it under his arm before casually walking over to a nearby workbench. He leaned against it, facing them.
All of them were there.
Every satellite. Every fragment of the same mind.
Every version… including him.
"Well…" Midas said calmly. "I suppose I may have spoken a little too freely earlier."
His gaze drifted—briefly—toward Lilith.
She was already armed.
"I don't want this to turn into something worse than it needs to be," Vegapunk said, his tone measured. "But you've become… unstable."
"Unstable?" Midas tilted his head slightly.
"Unstable? He's completely out of control!" Lilith snapped, stepping forward and pointing directly at the Egg Dragoon looming behind him. "He built a war machine!"
Midas let out a quiet breath.
"…And you're saying that?" he replied. "You—the one who leaves the island just to raid pirates like it's a hobby?"
As the argument began to escalate, something subtle was happening in the background.
Energy levels were rising.
The machines were feeding.
Charging.
"Midas, please. You need to understand—" Vegapunk began.
"Understand WHAT?" Midas snapped, suddenly pressing his fingers against his temples, his voice rising as irritation seeped through the calm façade.
"Alright then… let's break this down properly, FATHER."
He stepped forward now, pointing directly at Vegapunk.
"You created a walking embodiment of chaos that roams freely attacking anything it wants. A two-meter-tall android that somehow turns cuteness into weaponized violence. Systems that control the most dangerous machines in existence…"
He turned, pointing at the others one by one.
"And let's not even START on what you did—or didn't do—back in MADS."
His eyes shifted again.
York.
Still quiet.
Still watching.
"Midas…" Vegapunk said again, softer this time.
"You know…" Midas exhaled slowly. "In the end… you were right."
There was a pause.
"I was always going to be the villain."
And then—
Everything moved.
The Egg Dragoon roared to life.
The Mecha Sonic units activated simultaneously, their optics igniting with sharp, crimson light.
Before anyone could react, a massive mechanical arm shot forward—grabbing Midas and pulling him into the cockpit in one swift motion.
"Ivo," his voice echoed from within the machine, now distorted through speakers. "Play something appropriate."
"What would you like, sir?"
"Something dramatic. Angry. Rebellious. Anti-system."
"Midas, what are you doing?!" Edison shouted, stepping back as the machine's joints began to glow with an eerie, nauseating green light.
"I'm just…"
The mech's arm shifted.
The fingers retracted.
Metal reshaped itself with a series of sharp clicks.
"…making an announcement."
A high-caliber machine gun emerged in place of the hand.
…
Far away, in Mary Geoise, five figures sat in silence around a massive table.
The Five Elders.
"Our agents on Egghead report that Vegapunk's satellite is capable of producing a low-output version of the Flame Mother," Saturn said, reviewing a document that displayed an image of Midas holding a small green crystal.
"That is not the primary concern," Peter added. "If Vegapunk has limits… what about that creation?"
"You misunderstand," Nusjuro replied calmly. "Reports indicate he questioned Vegapunk's morality. Unlike the rest of MADS, Vegapunk maintained the illusion of righteousness."
"The real issue," Mars said, "is control."
A pause.
"How do we make him work for us?"
They had always known about Midas.
But they underestimated him.
Saw him as flawed.
Incomplete.
Warcury leaned forward slightly.
"Offer him status. Authority. Something just beneath a Celestial Dragon."
Silence.
Then—
"Approved."
…
Back on Egghead—
Chaos.
Smoke filled the air. Fire spread across fractured structures. The sound of gunfire echoed endlessly, blending with a distorted, almost theatrical melody that felt completely out of place.
"DO YOU LIKE THIS, VEGAPUNK?!" Midas' voice roared from within the Egg Dragoon. "I DESTROYED YEARS OF YOUR WORK IN A SINGLE AFTERNOON!"
A Pacifista lunged—
—and was instantly destroyed, its head torn off with brutal force.
The Mecha Sonics moved like predators, scanning, adapting, striking. They weren't built to rival Sonic's speed.
They were built to kill him.
Heavy units. Brutal efficiency. Armed to the point of excess.
War machines designed for a different world… now reshaped for this one.
And York—
She stood beside Vegapunk.
Inside Punk Records, the remaining satellites watched the destruction unfold through multiple screens.
"Damn it—damn it!" Vegapunk shouted, frantically typing, trying to override Midas' system.
But instead—
A symbol appeared.
The Egg Empire insignia.
And a mocking tune.
"Atlas! Edison! Shaka! Find a way around this!" Vegapunk yelled.
"I tried copying the code—it's impossible!" Shaka responded. "It changes constantly—every minute, no pattern!"
Behind them—
Unnoticed—
York moved.
"I think… I found a solution…" she said quietly.
"And what would th—"
A gunshot.
Edison's head exploded instantly.
Then another.
Atlas collapsed.
Then Shaka.
Then Lilith—
—but she didn't fall completely.
"York… why?" Vegapunk's voice trembled.
She didn't hesitate.
She moved to the console—disabled the shield.
Through the cameras—
Machines approached.
The end.
"Because…" she said softly, kneeling in front of him. "I want to be free."
And then—
BOOM.
The door exploded inward.
Smoke filled the room.
Three red lights pierced through the haze.
And behind them—
A massive silhouette stepped forward.
"Well…" Midas said calmly, stepping out of the mech. "I suppose this is it."
"You three—retrieve the core from that scrap giant. Don't destroy it."
Two units moved.
One stayed.
"…We'll address that later," Midas muttered before turning his attention back.
"Now then… Doctor."
He stepped closer.
"Are you enjoying my little redesign of your island?"
York laughed softly.
"Midas, you don't understand—" Vegapunk began.
"Oh, I understand perfectly," Midas interrupted, grabbing the weapon from York and pressing it against Vegapunk's head.
"I know about the Void Century."
Silence.
"And now… I'm putting a leash on you."
His voice lowered.
"If you tell anyone—Marine, Government, anyone—everything you built burns with you. I want the data on artificial Seraphim bodies. No DNA. I want functional replication."
"I'd rather die."
A pause.
Then—
"…Alright."
Midas turned slightly, thinking.
"Then let's escalate."
He raised the weapon, its barrel beginning to glow with a dangerous pink light.
"First—the Flame Mother."
"Second—your giant robot."
"Third—your backup bodies."
"And finally…"
He glanced back, smiling faintly.
"That head you're hiding."
"…WAIT! OKAY! JUST STOP!" Vegapunk shouted.
Midas smiled.
Then fired.
The shot tore through Vegapunk's leg.
A scream echoed through the room.
"You really think I'm stupid?" Midas said calmly. "I counted the bodies. Tell Lilith not to activate the Seraphim."
Vegapunk trembled.
The room felt colder.
"The show…" Midas said, turning back toward the console as data began transferring into a Den Den Mushi.
"…is just beginning."
---
Leave your power stone and vote for the story.
And please support my other works too like hazbin hotel was mahito