Ahh, Sonic the Hedgehog, everyone’s favourite aqua-hued mammal, a hero to small, defenseless animals everywhere and the eternal bane of the devious Doctor Robotnik (known to the Japanese, and later in English-speaking regions, as Doctor Eggman). Sonic, the hero of the day, fighting against tyranny and practical application of metallic alloys since 1991.

Or is he?

Is this the face of a killer, or a terrified scientist fighting for his life against a relentless menace?

First, allow me to discount the, shall we say, “extended universe” of Sonic — the later games to a lesser extent, but for the most part, the cartoon series, comic books, and other such efforts which portray our portly Doctor as a typical bumbling villain, unable to perform the simplest of schemes without making huge errors or exercising monumentally poor judgement; I dispute the canonicity of these offerings due to the simple belief that a man who single-handedly created sprawling cities of steel, hundreds of varied and deadly robot servants, space stations, weapons of mass destruction, and more — a man of such supreme will and genius simply could not conceivably act in such a dim-witted and buffoonish manner. With that in mind, I relegate this article to the earlier occupants of the series, the games that eschewed deep story in favour of simple, colourful gameplay.

Sonic, then — a hero, a freedom fighter standing up to oppression in the name of small woodland creatures everywhere? No! Observe, if you will, the actions of this bespined rodent — wreaking a trail of havoc in his wake, destroying all that stands before him, causing untold amounts of monetary damage in his blind, berserk spree through the world in his single-minded hunt for blood. The games portray him in a positive light, naturally; propaganda, some could say, as his actions speak for themselves. Is Sonic truly “freeing” these small, hapless creatures from their metallic prisons as he destroys Robotnik’s legions of robotia, or are these helpless minions the willing pilots of the machines, unable to fend for themselves after their vehicles have been ruptured, desperately scrambling for cover to avoid the blue razor-blade wrath of their tormentor?

At the end of each level, in classic Sonic the Hedgehog fashion, a large pod-like tank is ruptured by the sapphire menace. What at first appears to be an act of altruism could easily be construed as an attempted massacre — these pods, prisons for the conquered, or birthing chambers nurturing the young until they are able to take their first steps into the world? Even Robotnik himself rarely makes any direct effort to intercept Sonic, instead opting to flee and hide at any opportunity, only turning to fight when cornered by this cyan devil who simply refuses to let the grudge drop, refuses to let the good Doctor away from the ever-present terror. Can we, therefore, blame the Doctor for defending himself with the aid of machines, when his corpulent frame is clearly no match alone for his freakishly mutated opponent?

So I say to you, dear readers, who is truly the victim here? Who has been relentlessly hounded by an unstoppable foe bent on nothing short of utter annihilation, who has been forced to create such devious traps and weapons simply as a matter of self-defense, and who, truly, is the villain of the piece? I for one will say this: Beneath those comically-large eyes and behind those abnormally-hued spines lies the cold, calculating mind of a killer. A hero, indeed, or the most violent sociopath the world of Mobius has ever seen?