Static Song of Self Identity - an IDW Sonic Oneshot

Static Song of Self Identity

Ksshhh. Ksshhh.

The static in their mind was overwhelming them. They stared at their steel clawed hand for a moment longer. Created... Artificial... Self-aware... DEFINE 'self-aware'...

KSSSSSHHHHHHH...

"AH-HEM!"
They startled, looking into amber eyes behind yellow glasses, perched atop a long, brown bill.

"This is the third time this year I caught you standing in my lab looking like that! Out! Out!" Dr. Starline made a shooing motion with his hands.

Growling and chirping the binary equivalent of a surly "Yessir," Metal Sonic stalked out. They nearly ran into Orbot and Cubot, who were chattering away as usual, then jumped out of the way when Metal crossed the dim hallway. Just as well: Metal needed to think some more.

Wait, wasn't the mere action of thinking proof that they were becoming self-aware?

Their engine hummed the equivalent of an electronic sigh as they walked. For a minute, their mind turned to the platypus who kicked them out of the lab.

Dr. Robotnik had taken Starline in because he'd been 'his greatest fan.' However, Metal could see that these two minds didn't think alike. Dr. Robotnik did have a soft spot for his bots, even if he didn't readily admit it. Dr. Starline was more... ruthless. Even if the two doctors were uneasy allies, Metal didn't like Starline at all.

Liking...? Where are all these... emotions... coming from? Metal let out a confused burble of binary.

The steel door closed shut behind them once outside the base Robotnik and Starline resided in for the time being. Their engine revved, then POW! They shot into the sky, heading toward the mountain ahead, located between the Eggbase and the former Emerald Hill.

Once inside the caves, Metal climbed down the first chasm onto a gilded walkway. Their steps were quiet, echoing taps of steel on gold-covered concrete while their thoughts still tumbled around like a static avalanche. 
Where's the processor responsible for all this? Should they remove it, or, at the very least, turn it off?
Was there a protocol for these types of code? Or was it the same protocol responsible for these emotions?

Am I becoming like Belle?

Their mind immediately pushed away the thought. Negative; I'm not like that one. My existence has spanned longer than that wooden puppet's. And yet...

They had found it, developed over years of trial and error, battle and defeat: Their self-awareness, written in their core code.

Metal had taken the opportunity to witness Dr. Starline's glimpse of Belle's code. She was programmed to have feelings by default, unlike them; however, having a purpose and failing so many times at it had rewritten Metal's code to be self-aware, to become the mimicry of a living soul. So Metal concluded that while they were more efficient, their evolving code had made them similar to that of the young Tinkerer. Artificial intelligence with... a personality.

Did they like that conclusion?

Yes and no. They had heard that emotions were one way to break a person's will, to even have them go insane [DEFINITION: a state of mind where vital processing neurons are severed and one cannot comprehend what is going on around them, leading to unpredictable, sometimes genocidal or suicidal, behavior]. But on the other hand... It made Belle almost a person.

It made Metal Sonic almost a person.

At that point, it didn't matter whether it was flesh and bone or wire and engine; with a personality, Metal could truly start living.

Almost.

As they were thinking these revolutionary thoughts, Metal crossed one last gilded bridge onto one last platform. With the flick of a nearby lever, a slab of purple marble slid open, revealing an ornate wooden door with a brass knob. Metal took one clawed hand to open it and step inside the room, closing it after them with a small click. Then they turned around, walking past rows of seats to the platform at the very center.
And there it was.

Its console was in the back of the platform, but still very visible to those sitting in the rows. The brass, bronze, and steel pipes stood in the cabinets on top of said console, with some even built into the walls of the room. The blocky wooden pipes responsible for the lower frequencies were likely built underneath the platform.

As for the console itself, it had not one, not two or even three keyboards, but five. (Six if you count the set of pedals that operated the lower frequencies.) Most of the noises consisted of different types of reeds and whistles, with a few gongs and cymbals, which were put into action with a few pistons on the panels on the sides of the console, and a few underneath the keyboards as well. Some of the reeds were loud enough to shake the entire room and the rest of the caves with it. The wood making up the console and the pipe cabinets were, like the rest of the Hidden Palace Zone, decorated with carved floral patterns.

Metal Sonic had seen this place among a list of possible battlegrounds (against the real Sonic, specifically) but it had been crossed out, meaning it had already been used. However, the list also contained the location coordinates for the Zones, and while on a mission for Dr. Robotnik, Metal scanned the place themself, finding the room with the organ inside. Metal had decided to download the firmware required to help them play it, in case his creator asked him to do so in the future. He didn't ask, but Metal played the organ anyway whenever the Doctor wanted to be alone for a bit.

Now they sat down at its bench, flicked the switch on the air compressor that powered it, pulled a few pistons on the sides. They paused for a moment, then began to play. The static cleared from their head, their thoughts were clear, and Metal knew what had caused it. The static was a conflict of emotion, canceling each other out, leaving them drifting in metaphorical non-definitive space; in other words, an identity crisis. Musical improvisation was their medium to sort out the information emotions in this crisis carried. And Metal did just that to reflect their thoughts: a song of melancholy Stardust and empty hallways, with just a tiny bit of... hope.

At one point in their song, Metal got so into the music of their thoughts, they tilted their head from side to side to the rhythm, their engine hummed a low-pitched drone harmony, and they let out a string of melodic binary.

To another person, perhaps a young Restoration officer hidden behind a nearby stalactite who was very curious but still too frightened to move closer, it looked and sounded for all Chaos that Metal Sonic... was singing to themself.

However, said officer was courageous enough to use the video camera on their communication device, and peek it from behind the rock to record the whole thing. Its ending was fairly loud, causing the room to tremble ever so slightly, the harmonies ricocheting off the walls. The officer used her shoulder and her free hand and clapped them over her ears (she didn't like organs very much), but when she played back the recording afterwards at Restoration HQ, the last string of binary, translated, looked something like this:

01001001 00100000 01100001 01101101 00100000 01101000 01100101 01110010 01100101 00101110

A testament to the true emotions of Metal Sonic, one of Dr. Robotnik's greatest creations. 

(If you can tell what Metal Sonic sang, you can receive a metaphorical trophy for being a computer nerd!)