The next part of Robotnik’s plan would require some more finesse. And so—despite his clear superiority—Robotnik did something he would never have dared before. He waited.

Arms akimbo, the doctor turned his head to the sky and counted the minutes. The indignity of this mower ride. The taste of stale mushrooms still on his tongue. In a moment, it would all be washed away with the arrival of his babies.

Bzzzzzzzz!

Yes, there they were in the distance now. Robotnik could hear their perfectly calibrated motors from miles away. His proudest creations. His deadly drones. His beautiful drones! From high in the sky, the red-eyed droids floated down and around him. They’d been set free from their secret satellite housing unit by Stone’s preplanned activation protocols.

And now they could transform him back into the Robotnik he was made to be.

With a whirl of their jet-black metal bodies, the drones swirled around their master, replacing his tattered clothes with a flowing red flight jacket. They even styled his mustache so it was extra aerodynamic. And finally, several of the drones combined to create a floating throne for Robotnik to travel on in style.

Robotnik guided his new transport toward the burning site where all indicators showed his ally had failed.

-Chapter 7