Robotnik jr had six days to win the galaxy's biggest fashion contest, and he owned nothing worth wearing. He stood in his cramped apartment and read the entry ticket again. "Most Stylish Icon of the Virial Lands," it said. He looked down at himself. Yellow and red shirt. Black pants. Round blue sunglasses on his little bald head. The same outfit he wore every single day. He pressed the ticket flat against the window. Outside, the metal apartments stacked up in bright bands of color. His neighbors leaned from their balconies to watch. One woman laughed. She wore a gown that glowed like liquid glass. Robotnik jr stepped back from the window and closed the blind. He emptied his closet onto the floor. Three yellow shirts. Two red ones. A pile of black pants. Every piece looked the same. The judges had crowned a winner last year in a coat made of moving light. Robotnik jr owned nothing that moved. He owned nothing that shined. He sat on the floor and held his knees. Then he saw the box under his bed. He pulled it out and blew off the dust. Inside lay his father's old tools. Wire cutters. A soldering iron. Spools of thin copper. His father had built machines in a lab across the district. Robotnik jr had never touched the tools. He was not a builder. He was a small man who wore the same shirt every day. But he was also his father's son. He picked up the wire cutters and turned them in his hand. If he could not buy a stylish outfit, he could make one. He looked at his plain red shirt on the floor. He looked at the copper spool. An idea grew. He worked through the night. He cut copper into thin threads. He stitched them across the red shirt in tight rows. He wired a small battery into the collar. His fingers bled. He burned his thumb twice. Near dawn, he pressed the switch. The copper threads lit up. Light ran across the shirt in waves, red to gold to white. The whole shirt glowed like his neighbor's gown. Better. Robotnik jr stared at his hands. He had built it himself. He pulled the shirt on over his round belly and stepped to the mirror. The light danced across his blue sunglasses. He looked like an icon. He looked like a winner. Then the collar sparked. A thin line of smoke curled up. The battery hissed against his neck, hot. Robotnik jr yanked the shirt off and threw it down. The copper threads still glowed, but the wire had melted through the fabric. His only stylish outfit smoked on the floor. He had five days now. He knew how to build the coat. He did not know how to keep it from burning him alive on the judges' stage.

The burned shirt still smoked on the floor. Robotnik jr picked it up and held the collar close. The battery had melted through the copper. He knew the problem now. The battery was too weak and too hot. He needed a stronger power source, one that would not cook him on the judges' stage. He sat on his bed and pressed his fingers to his round bald head. His father had built machines. His father must have known where to find real power. He dug through the box of tools again. Under the wire cutters he found a folded paper. It was a map, drawn in his father's hand. One spot was circled in red. Beside it his father had written three words: "Red gem. Power." Robotnik jr stared at the circle. His father had left him more than tools. He had left him an answer. Robotnik jr stood and pulled on his black shoes. But the circled spot sat far across the district. He owned no craft to reach it. He walked to the wide window and looked out. Then he remembered the panel beside his bed. His father had installed it years ago. Robotnik jr pressed the switch. The wall of his apartment slid open. Cold air rushed in. A small flying craft rested on a hidden ledge, its metal skin scratched but whole. His father had kept it here all along. Robotnik jr climbed in and gripped the controls. His hands shook. He had never flown. He pushed the lever forward, and the craft lurched off the ledge and into the open sky. He steered between the tall towers. One skyscraper glowed with rows of bright windows, and he nearly clipped its side. He pulled the craft up hard. Below him a robotic pig on thin spider legs trotted across a rooftop garden. It passed a tree strung with glowing apples. Robotnik jr held the map on his knee and followed the red circle. The craft dropped toward a gleaming dome of polished metal. Its curved panels shone in the light. This was the lab. His father's lab. Robotnik jr landed the craft on the flat ground beside it and stepped out. The door stood open. Inside, on a stand in the center of the room, sat the gem from the map. It was huge, taller than his arm, and it glowed deep red from every facet. Real power. Enough for a hundred shirts. He reached for it. Then the floor clicked under his shoes. Around the stand, sleek metal caterpillars uncurled. Their yellow eyes blinked awake. Their hooked mouths snapped open. They rose on rows of legs and turned toward him, guarding the gem. Robotnik jr froze with his hand in the air. He had found the power. Now he had to get past its guards.

The metal caterpillars lunged. Their hooked mouths snapped at Robotnik jr's legs. He yelped and jumped back. His round sunglasses slid down his nose. He pushed them up and looked around the shining lab. He had come too far to run now. The huge red gem still glowed on its stand, close enough to touch. One caterpillar shot forward on its rows of legs. Its yellow eyes flashed. Robotnik jr threw himself sideways. He hit the polished floor and slid. The hooked mouth clacked shut where his shoe had been. His heart pounded against his yellow and red shirt. He scrambled behind the gem's stand. His hands searched his pockets. He had built things from his father's tools before. He remembered the small device in his coat, the one he had rigged that morning. It froze water in a cup for testing his shirt battery. He had made it stronger since then. Maybe strong enough. The caterpillars circled the stand. Their legs clicked on the metal floor. Robotnik jr gripped the device with both hands. He aimed the nozzle at the nearest machine. His thumb shook over the button. "Stay back," he whispered. He pressed the button. A blast of white frost sprayed out. It struck the lead caterpillar full in its yellow eyes. The machine froze mid-step. Ice crawled over its silver body. Its legs locked. Its hooked mouth stuck half open. Robotnik jr swung the nozzle across the others. Frost hit each one in turn. One caterpillar tried to leap, and ice caught it in the air. It dropped and cracked against the floor. The rest stiffened where they stood. Their yellow eyes dimmed under white frost. The clicking legs went silent. Robotnik jr breathed hard. He stood among the frozen guards. Not one of them moved. His plan had worked. He almost laughed. He stepped to the stand and wrapped his arms around the gem. It was heavy, taller than his arm, and cold against his shirt. He lifted it and staggered toward the open door. Real power. Enough to light his contest shirt without burning him. Then a hum filled the lab. The frost on the nearest caterpillar dripped. A drop of water fell from its eye. Robotnik jr stopped in the doorway. Behind him, ice began to melt. The device had frozen them, but only for now. Their bodies still held warmth inside. One frozen leg twitched. Then another. The yellow eyes flickered back to life. The guards were waking, and now the gem was gone from their stand. They would come after it. Robotnik jr did not wait. He clutched the gem tight and ran for his craft outside. He had the power at last. Now he had to fly home before the guards broke free and chased him across the sky.