With a groan, the heavy steel door limped outward on its hinges. A lone figure strode easily in, gazing around the hazy room. Dust and mildew hung in the air with the sickly sent of corroded metal, battered and remorseful inoperable machinery dotted the walls, random rubble and scrap littering the floor. With nothing but a cringe of his eye to acknowledge the scene, he moved on.
'Three complexes, and yet still nothing.' He thought bitterly to himself. 'Goddamn that bastard Eggman.' Clenching his fist in agitation, he spied a faint light down a desolate corridor. Could there be something of interest there?
Dashing effortlessly over the debris drowned floor, he stopped halfway down the static hall and put his optical sensor to use. Straining his night vision accessory, only a slight movement was recognizable. Striding up to the robotisized Mobian twitching on the floor, he placidly watched it with caution as it choked repeatedly, "Ident... ify. I... denti... fy..."
It's inquiry ceased as a volley of bullets pelted through its neural processors.
Scrap headed off apathetically. "Be glad you went all the way." He called back to the newly deactivated heap of robotic junk.
The past ten months had been hell. The past ten months was all he knew. It was when he awoke, partially mechanical. Scrap, in all likelihood, wasn't even his real name; just something he felt disgustingly fitting for circumstance.
"I just want to know who the HELL I AM!" the cobalt hedgehog yelled furiously down the echoing corridors. Shaking with pent up rage. He clenched his grappler hand down, twisted his automated wrist, mutilating the metal beam he clawed into. Scrap dropped the chunk of trash to the floor with a hollow clatter that reverberated off neglected surfaces of the facility. This was so mind numbingly useless it pained him.
Kicking down a door blatantly labeled 'EXIT' in brunt out neon lettering, he sighed in the fresh air of a wasteland. Leaving the dilapidated base to decay on its own accord, he struck off aimlessly. Again he found himself without a direction, and yet he still clung to one hope that may or may not mean anything. Why? Reviewing his other options, he again concluded that death was the only other avenue, and he wasn't going to do that. If he was going to die, it was going to be a result of battle.
Looking out over the technological surroundings of fuming stench and death, Scrap figured he could find no more here. He glowered while recounting that he had discovered no revelations yet again. So where next? Where could he find the information he needed if not available at the bases he'd searched before?
"Perhaps..." he mumbled darkly to himself, turning northward to face the expansive landscape, "a different approach...?"
He started off, heading to a land he dared not go before. A place where Eggman held interest and was active. The city where robots and Mobians battled. A place others might see him... Robotropolis.