Baron Von Bad Guy!?
Oh, the humanity! :hahaha;
That reminds me, I have an announcement to make… 
IN AN UNKNOWN REGION OF THE MULTIVERSE…
demigod and Galloway suddenly materialized on a mound of cracked dirt, slightly digging their legs into the substance as they did so. The mound was itself a discolored brownish-green, a perfect match for damn near every acre surrounding the duo. The sky was a mixture of cracked blue and green, its very existence seeming to be more at odds with causality than anything else. There wasn’t a sign of life anywhere; only the sound of Galloway’s legs forcing themselves out of the mud pile arrived to greet them.
“Alright, mysterious floaty thingy, where the hell are we?” shouted Galloway.
demigod simply raised a hand to his companion, somehow causing him to be flung helplessly off the mound and onto the more solid ground. The god-being, meanwhile, casually strolled down, most likely smirking under his cloak. “I told you already. This is my world…at least, what’s left of it.”
His eyes quickly cast upon a small object in the distance, a glistening white skull mixed with a few pieces of a ribcage. demigod slowly moved towards the remains, his head bowed in deep reverence. Galloway finally picked himself up and rejoined his comrade, his eyes locked on the skeleton. “Um…how long have you been gone?”
“I have no reckoning,” said demigod. “However, some life still remains, I am sure of it. We have no time to waste.”
MEANWHILE, AT THE INN…
Mabat crouched back, in preparation for a Matrix-style dodge-and-counterattack. However, rather than simply walk towards him like the Fire Warlord, the Earth Warlord charged forward like a bull, hands outstretched as if preparing for a group hug. The Blue Mage was so taken aback that he didn’t think to react when the warlord grabbed him by the forearms and hoisted him into the air, spinning him around like a child with a new toy. The crowd screamed various jeers and taunts at the flailing, struggling mage, pausing only when the Earth Warlord simultaneously released his grip AND headbutted Mabatsekker into the hard floor.
Gasping and struggling, Mabat climbed to his feet, only for his nose to become acquainted with the Warlord’s right elbow. Over the years, he had withstood the most damaging of blows from the most hardened of fighters and monsters, but THIS attack actually managed to send him flying ten yards before landing and smashing through a table. The Warlord roared triumphantly, his victory practically assured.
Wu Ching pulled the bleeding Mabatsekker to his feet, pissed off beyond comparison. “What is the matter with you? Avoid his attacks!”
“Look, it’s been established getting hit is a bad idea,” sneered Mabat. “Just give me a second to figure him out.” He pushed the girl aside and quickly returned to the self-styled circle at the Inn’s center, his eyes locked with the Earth Warlord. The two simply watched each other, Mabat remaining unmoving and his opponent shifting back and forth like a pro wrestler.
Finally, the Earth Warlord jumped forward…only to meet the business end of Mabatsekker’s roundhouse. The Warlord feel back slightly, but was otherwise unharmed. As for the Blue Mage…well, his body hadn’t taken that blow all that well. His heel was hurting like all heck, and the sheer pain barely allowed him to dodge the Warlord’s spinning clothesline of a punch.
(more soon)
BACK IN THE PRESENT…
Martinez continued to stare at the giant robotic monstrosity before him, his mind barely able to comprehend exactly what the hell was going through his nemesis’ mind when he made this…thing. The machine, for its part, continued to stay motionless, staring down the aged mage with a mixture of malevolence and cold calculation. Finally, the required-by-law evil laughter began to echo from hidden speakers.
“Wilfredo Martinez, my old adversary!” The voice was strained and twisted by the substandard stereo equipment, but its features were clear enough to make out. It was an old man, a few years more ragged than Martinez’s, with a small taste of a Midwestern accent. “Your Christmas Spirit is mine for the taking!”
“Baron von Bad Guy!” Martinez retorted. “What is your deal, man?”
The speaker was obviously not expecting this; it was several pained seconds before it responded. “Well…isn’t it obvious? Remove the good will from people’s hearts, and they will become selfish, greedy douches! I can then take advantage of their self-interest, and make them my slaves! At last, I will rule the world!”
“But…if you make everyone even more self-centered than ever, wouldn’t they be even less likely to follow your orders? And really, have you looked at a Wal-Mart or shopping mall around Christmas? It’s nothing BUT spoiled brats and deadbeat parents!”
The machine did not respond, at least verbally. Rather, it raised up its free arm, now a whirring chainsaw. “Okay…note to self,” said Martinez. “Do not piss off giant robots.”
BACK AT THE INN…
Mabatsekker finally found some solid footing, only to see the warlord laughing more than ever. Suddenly, the Earth Warlord began to stomp his foot, the force of the impact shaking the entire building to its core. The mere shockwave coursing through his body was enough to cause internal near-ruptures in the Blue Mage…until he suddenly remembered his encounter with the Fire Warlord. Drawing on his past battles with the warlord’s henchmen, he finally came upon a mental image of a jade turtle.
Suddenly, the ruptures stopped. The Inn was still shaking with the force of a 4.0 earthquake, but Mabat felt not even a sliver of pain. The Earth Warlord’s once-confident sneer melted into a gasp of astonishment, followed by the face of a shell-shocked soldier facing his future killer. Taking the opportunity, Mabat charged forward, throwing all his weight into his right shoulder. In a massive final tackle, he pushed his Herculean opponent through three tables, through a wall out of the Inn, spun him around, smashed back through the wall INTO the Inn, and finally stopped long enough to Shoryuken him to the ground.
The warlord climbed to knees, his body battered and bruised beyond belief. Mabat readied himself for another attack, his eyes locked on the Earth Warlord’s muscular limbs. The vile overlord stared at the time-traveling Blue Mage…
“You have beaten me.”
The entire Inn fell silent. Mabat lowered his arms, eyebrows raised, a look of absolute shock and surprise plastered across his face. The Earth Warlord solemnly walked to his ruined table, lifted his discarded mask, and handed it to the waiting mage. “Take my mask, and take my strength. You will need them both to fight the most mighty Feng Tu.”
As Sekker touched the Kindergarten-quality facial covering, a feeling of warmth rushed through his tired, battered body. Even as his wounds magically knitted themselves back together, he recognized it as the same feeling as when he had held the Fire Warlord’s mask. “To aid you in your quest, I give you my most precious skill: the BUDDHA PALM!”
The warlord gave the waiting Blue Mage a final, humble bow. “You have nothing more to fear from me.” Their task completed, Mabat and Wu Ching quickly exited the Inn and made their way back towards the village, lest any onlookers suddenly crowd them with unwanted cheers and queries.
(to be continued)
MEANWHILE, BUT SOMEHOW IN THE PAST…
Mabatsekker and Wu Ching slowly entered a small courtyard, nestled deep within the confines of a once mighty city. Now, it was almost entirely deserted, and quite recently to boot. In fact, strangely enough, many of the buildings had been windstripped, their walls practically blown off by hurricane-force gale storms. Even the streets had been peeled away, exposing only several loose pieces of tile and the bare dirt underneath. Only this lonely courtyard had been untouched, with only a few abandoned carts to mark that someone had once lived here.
The duo finally came to a dead stop in the center of the courtyard, just in time for Mrs. Exposition to begin. “Here you will find the Wind Warlord. He has travelled the winds of the world to learn from the greatest martial artists. He is the swiftist of Feng Tu’s henchmen-”
A voice suddenly boomed from a tower at the far end of the courtyard. Within stood the Wind Warlord, laughing derisively at his petty opponents underneath. “Come on! I haven’t got all day!” That was when Mabat saw something he had missed before: the two bodyguards, both hunched on the rooftops at opposite ends.
(one paddling session later)
The bodyguards finally went scurrying off, granting Mabat some handy new strange-icons-that-would-undoubtedly-become-super-useful-blue-magic-spells-when-he-needs-them. In this case, he ended up with a glowing fist and an outstretched hand. Before the Finnish Wonder could begin pouting and hating the arcane stupidity of his class of magic, however, his thoughts returned to the Wind Warlord…who was now casually floating down to him, causing quite the wind tunnel as he did so.
With a taunting kick in his opponent’s direction, the Warlord removed his mask, revealing…the first Chinese guy Mabat had fought this entire freaking day. It almost seemed odd against the Bob Marley and Hulk Hogan knockoffs he had been bashing into the ground, but at last things actually looked semi-accurate. If the Wind Warlord had any knowledge of his opponent’s astonishment, however, he didn’t take time to show it. “You think you can reach Feng Tu by stopping me?” Mabat started to nod. “No one ever has! Now come on, I grow tired of you!”
Suddenly, a roundhouse kick came whirling towards Mabat’s face. The blue mage blocked the blow…only to find the warlord twisting around like a top and nailing him from the OTHER direction. The impact certainly wasn’t as bone-crushing as the Earth Warlord’s fist, but it was fast enough to send Sekker flailing in the opposite direction, much to the mocking laughter of his opponent.
BACK IN ANOTHER DIMENSION…
demigod and Galloway continued their long, silent trek across the barren, desolate wastes that were once the former’s home. The very ground they walked upon crumpled and creaked with every step, as if it was in danger of collapsing like dried Play-Doh at any second. The sky continued to crinkle and crack, the last scream of a long-doomed world.
After the first hour of this, Galloway had had enough. “demi, there’s NOTHING HERE!”
The, well, demigod’s response was immediate and fierce. With but a kickass twist of his head, he sent his companion falling back to the clay-like earth. “There are survivors. I know it. I arranged it.” Galloway slowly climbed back to his feet, once again covered in unkown substances. “I was…searching for a new homeworld when I stumbled across your own. It only took me this long to properly observe its inhabitants.”
“So…what happened here?” asked Galloway. “Whatever caused this doesn’t look natural…”
“By YOUR paltry standards, it would not be,” said demigod. “When I…was ascended, I became one with my world. I nurtered its culture, its people, everything on it. It was a paradise, a world without-”
“LIKELY STORY, YA PANSY!”
The two looked in the distance, and saw a small gathering of delapidated structures. Even at this strained distance, they could make out a small figure, sitting on a front porch. “There they are!” said demigod. “My people!”
(to be continued)
Mabat quickly climbed back to his feet, only to see the Wind Warlord raising his cape, his arms outstretched in a perfect cross. Suddenly, a hurricane of some form came blasting out of nowhere, blowing the Blue Mage back harder than Kat-Chi in position 35. Wu Ching managed to take cover behind a pillar, but the time traveller was completely helpless against the assault. Fortunately, his short-term amnesia finally passed, and he was able to remember one of the symbols he had inherited from his opponents: an empty palm, surrounded by a red field. Feeling no other recourse, he quickly willed its power into being.
Suddenly, the wind slowed, then nearly stopped completely. Indeed, EVERYTHING slowed to an absolute crawl; the flying carts and falling leaves very, very slowly descended, compared to the nearly lethal level of force they had previously exhibited. The Warlord’s face still did not register this fact; he must have been slowed down, as well. Seizing his chance, Mabat sprang from his spot and slammed his fist into the Wind Warlord’s face.
The force of the attack, combined with the near-zero resistance thanks to Bullet Time, and multiplied by how fragile the Wind Warlord already was, sent the yellow-clad master smashing through three ox carts before crashing hard into a stone wall. Smiling to himself, Mabat moved forward, ready to hear the latest taunts and excuses his opponent had to offer.
The Wind Warlord stammered forward, his entire being badly shaken by the whole experience…then he bowed, silently placing his mask at the Blue Mage’s feet. “Take my mask, and my speed. You will need them to fight the most mighty Feng Tu.” Once again bowing to repitition, Mabat took the mask, and felt a surge of wild energy enter his body. “I give you my special skill, the Phoenix Eye. You have nothing more to fear from me.” With those parting words, the Wind Warlord lept into the sky…and vanished from sight.
MEANWHILE, AT DEMIGOD’S HOMEWORLD…
demigod and Galloway finally reached the settlement, after an interesting time travel adventure where they helped Jesus defeat the Skrulls or something, and found…a decaying corpse of a city. There was NOTHING of interest, only a few cracked buildings of slightly alien architecture. There was no sign of humans, either; their bones were probably buried under the red sand long ago. Galloway stared at the buildings with amazement and disgust; demigod looked upon them with abject horror. “What…What is this?”
Suddenly, the voice from before rang out. “Come over you, ya bastards!” The two suddenly saw an incredibly ancient, almost mummy-esque old man sitting on a slag of rock, slowly rocking back and forth on the piece of concrete like a porch swing. The two staggered towards the figure, demigod desperate for any sort of confirmation, and Galloway simply wondering how someone could survive out here. “Who…are you?”
The old man let out a cough-laden laugh. “I’m just a little old man sitting on his rock. And what about you two? Don’t you know you’re supposed to be dead?”
“DEAD?!” shouted demigod.
“Everyone’s dead, you idiot! Some bastard blew up the whole world, then dumped us here a hundred years ago! The food he left went out in a few weeks, and we couldn’t grow anything because of him! Most of us died of hunger and thirst! Those that didn’t started killing each other for what was left! And now…I’ve got it all!”
demigod took a few floating steps back, his infinite mind racing with the ramifications. “No…I did not…I mean…”
“demigod,” said Galloway, his voice unusually low and grim. “Are you a native of this world?”
demi looked at his companion. “Yes, of course I am. What do you-”
The old man let out one last laugh…just as Galloway’s sword skewered him through the upper rib cage and out the base of his spine.
(to be continued)
Next time: Mabatsekker vs. Feng Tu
MEANWHILE, BACK AT KAI’S TEMPLE…
All three masks had been placed upon the gong, hanging forever in all their first-grade level glory. Mabat and Wu Ching were on their knees, bowing respectively towards the aged Kai. The old master, for his part, was far happier than when they had previously departed. “Feng Tu next,” he sighed.
“Yes. Yes he is,” muttered Mabatsekker.
“Remember what is at stake, my friend,” said Kai. “Feng Tu has threatened to rip out all our hearts. Yours, and Wu Chings, will be mounted on pikes. Mine, a snack for Feng Tu.”
“I understand,” said Mabat.
“I shall stay behind,” said Wu Ching. “As it stands, I cannot aid you against Feng Tu’s amazing strength.”
Mabat rolled his eyes slightly. Not that you were helping much, anyway.
Kai motioned towards the newly-decorated gong. “The masks will open a passageway to Feng Tu’s throne room. Once there, you must face him in single combat. Good luck, young warrior, for all our lives now rest with you.”
Without a sound, Mabat stood up and touched the gong’s golden surface. The object suddenly shifted in form, morphing into a swirling ying-yang, and before the blue mage could pull himself back, he was sucked into the swirling mass. When he finally phased out of the philosophical-but-suddenly-phsyical personification of the conflicting nature inside of us all, he was standing in a fire engine red throne room, its walls covered with incredibly cheesy fake flames. Before him, on a raised platform, Feng Tu sat on his large stone throne. Behind him, a fire raged in a deep pit, although the flames seemed to change constantly. It was as if he was trapped in an incredibly cheesy mid-90s FMV where nobody bothered to study the concept of sequential editing.
Feng Tu sprang from his throne at the sight of the intruder. “You! Who ignore my degree, humiliate my warlords, and <b>DARE</b> to stand before me now! Let us see what you have.” With the gauntlet sufficiently thrown, he swung off his silver cape, revealing…a surprisingly scrawny form underneath. Compared to the impossibly ripped blue mage, Feng Tu barely amounted to more than a stick figure. His hand swung up to his mask. “It has come to this! You want it, rip it off my face!”
MEANWHILE, BACK IN DEMIGOD’S DIMENSION…
demigod was on Galloway faster than a soldier on a cheap whore, telepathically lifting the saiyan and hurling his about a hundred yards backward with a single panicked thought. With yet another thought, he hurled himself at the old man’s lifeless body, desperately pulling the embedded sword out of his body. Unfortunately, this had the wrong effect; with nothing left to plug the wound, his blood started pouring out of the opening, further cementing his demise.
When Galloway finally emerged from the distance, covered in yet another layer of dust and debris, he managed to reach no closer than fifty feet of the greiving demigod when the ground suddenly shot up around him, erecting itself into seemingly endlessly tall pillars. “You…You killed him! You murdered the last of my people!”
“He was going to die anyway, demigod,” said Galloway, desperately looking for any way out of his current predicament. He could see none. “I was putting him out of his misery.”
“Damn you, mortal!” cursed the demigod. “I have had enough of your callousness, your disregard for any life but your own! May you rot here for the rest of your days!”
demigod started to walk away from the mess, stopping only when Galloway finally managed to muster up one last speech. “What where you gonna do, anyway? The man was practically a corpse!”
He did not even face his opponent as he spoke. “Weiila could have healed his body. I could have repaired his mind. My people-”
“Are dead. They were dead long before we even got here.”
demigod finally had had enough. His rush was so fast that the ground itself shattered at his approach. He smashed through one of his earthen pillars, grabbed Galloway by the neck, and tightened his grip. “They were my responsibility! Because of you, the last one is dead! I have nothing left, BECAUSE OF-”
Next time: The fight really begins. Really. Really Really.
BACK AT FENG TU’S LAIR…
Mabat thought he had seen everything. He had tangled with so many supervillains and martial artists alike, gained an almost intimate understanding of their many techniques. And yet, Feng Tu was different. The very second the fight began, it was obvious whot he superior fighter was. The warlord’s first punch sent Mabat hurtling across the other side of the room. Rather than follow up on his prey, however, Feng Tu merely gestured towards himself, and the blue mage was suddenly flung forwards, right into the path of a lethal uppercut. As Sekker slowly crawled back to his feet, Feng Tu finally came through with his follow up, backkicking his opponent into a quick spin before grabbing him by both arms and swinging him into a statue of the evil overlord’s likeness. The hard granite crumbled from the force of the attack, leaving a badly beaten and bruised Mabat standing in its dust.
Feng Tu was obviously relishing in his supposed victory, even as the blue mage stumbled out of the debris, obviously more punch drunk than that time in Castle Shadowgate. “Had enough?” Mabat slowly shook his head. The response put Feng Tu off balance for a fraction of a second, eventually leading to a small chuckle. “No? Heh, you are foolish.” The overlord hopped forward and threw a straight punch at Mabat’s chest. The blue mage managed to block the blow…only to feel a rush of pain on a level never before dreamed of. His entire left arm suddenly fell limp, as ever greater amounts of morbid agony coursed through his veins. He cursed himself briefly for trying to block such an obvious attack.
Now, he had only one arm, in a style that demanded both. None of his spells seemed to be working, his defense was shot, and the only moves he had left were…the ones he had learned during his journey. Feng Tu, meanwhile, hung back, admiring his opponent’s injuries. “Heh, I am a man of honor! When you beg me to kill you, I will!”
As Feng Tu made for another series of strikes, Mabat decided on a new strategy. He quickly started to weave and bob, desperate not to let any of the warlord’s supernatural enhanced attacks strike him. For his part, it was an extremely difficult task; Feng Tu’s speed was equal to his power, and the already exhausted Mabatsekker found himself backing farther and farther into a corner. Finally, just when he thought he could stand no more, he saw his chance: Feng Tu’s latest strike had exposed his face.
Taking his remaining hand, Mabat punched Feng Tu hard across the face. His physical resistance being the only thing the mask not tuned up to a ridiculous level, Feng Tu flinched for another fraction of a second, allowing Mabat to execute a quick palm strike to the eyes, followed by a quick twirl in the air and a chop to the nose. At last, the Buddha Palm had served some purpose.
Obviously, Feng Tu was not used to being struck. Still, he regained his composure and fired another series of attacks, and opening his chest in the process. Mabat quickly kicked his opponent with a straight foot to the lower torso, followed by a sudden leap straight up and a jump kick. The Phoenix Eye was working its magic.
Now feeling enraged, Feng Tu began his attack again. Once again, he unwittingly exposed himself to attack, this time revealing a slight opening in the right side of his face. Mabat quickly dug in his left heel and twirled into a series of four roundhouse kicks, slamming Feng Tu across the face each time. At long freaking last, the Chekhov’s Gun that was the Leopard Strike managed to serve some use.
Feng Tu was livid with rage. Not only had he been struck by a foreign peasant, but he had been struck with the moves he himself had taught his warlords. The entire chamber shook with the force of his voice. “This cannot be. I AM FENG TU…<i>THE ULTIMATE!</i>” In any case, Mabat had to end this fight now, while Feng Tu was still beside himself.
Then he remembered the other moves he had learned. Seeing as how this was as good a time as any, Mabat activated every ability he had learned at once. The sheer amount of power running through his being elevated him to the same level as Feng Tu, if not higher. The warlord tried to launch a series of strikes, but Mabat effortlessly ducked under the precise blows and smashed back with a killer elbow to the ribs, followed by a heel to the head. He then grabbed Feng Tu’s still-airborne leg, flipped him overhead, and slammed him into the hard ground.
When the warlord rose to his feet, he was now furious beyond all reason. “This cannot be. You must die! <i><b>NOW!</b></i>” He hopped back to his throne, as a familiar feeling of unease shook Mabat to his very core. Suddenly, he could see all three elements filling Feng Tu’s very being. It seemed he really DID teach his warlords everything; he was going to unleash ALL of their most powerful attacks at once!
Then Mabat had an idea. He quickly followed suit, channeling those same moves into his body. Feng Tu suddenly unleashed an earthquake, fireball, and typhoon, filling the room with destructive elemental energies. Mabat quickly followed in suit, and the two forces slammed into each other. For several seconds, the two powers crackled and sizzled against each other, but by this point, it was obvious who was going to win. Feng Tu’s attack effortlessly slid through Mabatsekker’s…only to strike nothing.
The warlord looked about nervously, before feeling a light tap on his shoulder. Followed by the world’s most asskicking punch, one that would make the very gods bow in reverence. Feng Tu fell to the ground, the mask sliding off his face as he did so. At long last, the battle was over.
MEANWHILE, BACK IN THE PRESENT…
The giant mech now lay a pile of smoldering wreckage. Its occupant, a man several years Martinez’s senior with a cheapo labcoat, receding white hair, and a monocle over his right eye, sat motionless in what used to be his driver’s seat, staring at the smiling mage before him. “Well, Baron von Bad Guy,” snirked Martinez. “Looks like truth, justice, and all that rot won the day yet again!”
“Bah!” shouted von Bad Guy. “I shall return, Martinez!” And with that, he escaped via the power of Silver Age Nonsequitorism.
(the ending tonight)
“I shall return, Martinez!” And with that, he escaped via the power of Silver Age Nonsequitorism.
That may very well the best line you’ve ever written, Gallo Ol’ dog.
And that fight with Feng Shui, I mean Feng Tu, was pretty extreme! too!
Btw, what happens to you in the next chapter of my current story is NOT meant as a personal attack of any sort. Seriously.
Unless you have anything embarrassing happen to me in yours that is.
Just as Martinez was thinking about how to celebrate his latest victory (most likely with a generous helping of alcohol and cheap whores), he felt a cold wind suddenly well up and sting him in the back. He turned about, staff raised…only to find demigod and Galloway standing there, heads turned away from each other. “So…how’d it go?” asked Galloway.
“Just like old times, it seems,” responded Martinez. “And what about your end?” demigod only moved back to the inside of the bunker. “I…see.” Galloway simply continued to stare into the distance, completely ignoring the old black mage and the pile of machinery that would make USC Engineers jealous. “Well…if there’s nothing else to do here, I guess I’ll be going home.” With a parting glance, Martinez dissapeared in a ball of light and some black smoke.
<i>“I have had enough of your callousness, your disregard for any life but your own!”</i>
“He’s right,” muttered Galloway. “Time I moved us up to the big leagues.”
MEANWHILE, BACK IN THE VILLAGE…
For the first time since the attack, the villagers were celebrating. Feng Tu was paraded down the streets, stashed in a wooden crate, with only his head sticking out of a small hole at the top. As Mabatsekker walked past him, he continued to roar and hiss insults. “Let me out of here, you little pipsqueak! I’ll tear you apart!”
“I don’t think so,” grinned Mabat.
Finally, the parade stopped at the gates of the temple. Kai and Wu Ching stood at attention, each holding a part of the mask. “You have fought well, my young warrior!” said Kai. “Your name shall be celebrated in this village for centuries to come!”
He slid one half of the mask on Mabat’s face. The blue mage suddenly felt a surge of power. “Until someone better comes along,” added Wu Ching, effortlessly sliding the other half of the mask upon his face. At that moment, Mabat’s blue magic powers went insane…
And then he woke up, lying in the green forests outside of RPGCity. He looked about groggily, trying to reason whether or not the whole thing was a dream. He could still remember some of those techniques, but the power of the mask was certainly missing. In any case, he had apparently saved the past from a hammy martial artist overlord and his generic minions.
Which meant it was time for a drink.
And then John was a zombie.
THE END OF ISSUE 23
Next time: The Christmas Saga!
And after that: Nightmare the Clown returns!
Here’s the start to Issue 24. I know it sucks, but please be patient.
For chronology’s sake, the chapter is situated after the events of the Christmas Saga and Reaver Saga.
Issue 24: The Nightmare Returns
A FEW WEEKS AFTER CHRISTMAS, INSIDE AN EYE RESEARCH LAB…
“Alright, the DNA Analysis is finished.”
“And what are your findings, doctor?”
“The…thing in the sewers…it’s a mixture of hundreds of various strands of genetic information. I’m talking about entire species. Bears, tigers, leopards, ferrets, and worst of all, clowns!”
“Dear God, what sick madman would make this…clown thing?”
“We think it was that traitor from eighteen years back. It has his fingerprints all over it.”
“And what do you recommend from here?”
“It’s simply too unstable to use. I don’t think even he had much of a plan for it. We need to- Wait, who authorized thi…NO! NO! Get away! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGHH!”
(…)
“Our security detail has returned. The lab is a slaughterhouse. The clown has escaped back into the sewers.”
“…I motion we adjourn for the night.”
“Agreed.”
“May the Eye watch over you.”
BACK AT RPGC…
Mabatsekker, demigod, GG Crono and Pierson sat nervously at the table, their meeting notes laid scattered before them. “Alright…so what are we supposed to do?” said Mabat.
“We haven’t been able to contact Galloway for days. Weiila, neither,” said Pierson. “Starstorm doesn’t know anything, and Gemini’s still in Iona. Most of the reserves are still on vacation, as well. It’s just us four until they get back.”
“And what about Martinez’s petition?” asked demigod.
“It was approved, assuming traditional tribunal procedures,” said Pierson. “In any case, we’ll all need to be here for that one.”
Suddenly, the computer’s TroubAlert began to ring out. Pierson dashed to the machine with the speed of a half-drunk marathon runner that has been kneecaped in both legs by a sawed-off shotgun and smashed the response button, revealing the giant pixilated head of Heaven’s Soldier. “What’s up, HS?”
“It’s Nightmare the Clown,” said Heaven’s Soldier. “We have sightings of him in the sewers by the docks. We need you to get down there before he escapes.”
The comm switched off before Pierson could amount any protest. “…Great. We barely survived the first round, and now we’re several men down for the sequel.”
MEANWHILE, IN SWEDEN…
A small blue portal suddenly opened on Weiila’s front lawn, pausing only long enough to spit out its owner and Galloway before closing forever. The two disoriented heroes slowly pulled themselves off the floor, wiping off the dust and bloodstains from their latest adventure. “Well…that wasn’t fun,” said Galloway.
“I couldn’t agree with you more,” said Weiila. “At least everyone got away from that…thing.”
MEANWHILE, IN THE SEWERS…
The Task Force slowly made their across the narrow ledges of RPGCity’s winding, Sim City Nightmare-ish sewer system, pausing only to wretch from the ungodly smell of poo gas and other fumes that go best unnamed. Well, that is, except for demigod, who seemed to be totally unaffected for obvious reasons.
(to be continued)
Aw nutbunnies, enough with the poo gas!
Um. Wait. “The world’s most asskicking PUNCH?”
Oh damn. You just broke my cognitive processes.
Here’s a little more. This chapter has been a pain so far.
“Okay, just to refresh, how’d we beat this clown last time?” asked Pierson.
GG Crono was the first brave one to speak. “We didn’t. I think you just got lucky and…beamed him with a pipe or something. Hell, that whole thing was a blur anyway.”
Then they heard the familiar snarling, the sound reverberating in such a way as to mask its true origin. The Task Forces quickly pulled themselves back-to-back, flashlights raised, weapons readied, eyes scanning for any sign of movement in the dank, crap-filled shadows. The lingering memories of their last encounter with this damned beast of hell quickly returned, further increasing the overwhelming tension and anxiety in the air. Even Pierson, the only one to escape the last encounter relatively unscathed, could feel his neck hairs arching upwards like…let’s not finish this sentence.
It was at this moment that Nightmare the Clown, in all his disheveled-carbon-copy-of-a-vastly-superior-work-by-an-actual-author glory, finally appeared, staggering drunkenly out of the shadows. Its body was still covered in bullet holes, while green ichors poured out of the massive sores. The menacing Saturday Morning Villain-esque eyes were now far dimmer, displaying an almost grim acknowledgment of the serious predicament. The whole sight caught the Task Force off-guard, although not enough to drop their weapons and/or unready their magic.
The clown simply continued to stare at the small team, emitting a low growl but otherwise not making any threatening motions. The heroes, for their part, stood back, not willing to provoke the monster that had nearly killed them only a few months back. And then GG Crono took a scraping step back…
And Nightmare the Clown snapped out of his shocked state, leaping viciously at the huddled four.
MEANWHILE, IN A MYSTERIOUS AIRSHIP…
Deep within a small office, on a slick, futuristic, ergonomic desk, a small monitor suddenly switched on, revealing the image of a middle-aged bureaucrat, wearing a small Canada flag pin on his lapel. The receiving figure was an imposing figure of a man, dressed in a fine beige military uniform of an unknown allegiance. His cold eyes simply stared at the obviously frightened informant. “What is your situation?”
The bureaucrat shifted his collar slightly before answering. “We have all the files you requested. I also managed to copy the requisition forms before their transfer to the Records Office.”
“And…what is your opinion?”
“I…have none, sir.”
The man grunted in reply. “Do not humor me, whelp. They will act as we have accorded, and in their weakness we will succeed. Just make sure the Eye doesn’t get ahold of this. We are at too critical a juncture to allow those fanatical smugglers to uproot everything we have accomplished.”
The monster’s initial lunge sent the heroes diving in separate directions. Crono, demigod and Mabat easily managed to pull themselves to the sides, watching as the creature screamed and howled in a blind rage. Pierson, unfortunately, slipped on a submerged piece of…dung, sending him flipping over into the air in a spectacle that would make a Looney Tunes character proud. Needless to say, when he flopped back into the raw sewage, he wasn’t exactly the cleanest-smelling member of the Task Force.
He was, however, now the most obvious target for a creature powered by a sense of smell. In other words, the psychotic clown that currently was chasing the RPGC Task Force.
Fueled by the latest turn of events, Nightmare lunged at Pierson, its teeth bared in preparation for the sweet, succulent flesh that no doubt awaited.
FINALLY, this issue is over. One more issue of absolute shit to go through, and we can get to what will, hopefully, be a MUCH better storyline.
Unfortunately for the beastie, Crono was able to propel himself forward, sword drawn and looking badass. Even more unfortunately for him, sheer awesomeness has yet to be distilled into a potential weapon, and GG simply ended up getting slammed into the ground like a discarded teddy bear.
Pierson climbed back up, just as Mabat dashed forward and tackled the clown against a nearby wall. The blue mage pulled his body back, arching in time of Nightmare the Clown’s fevered swings and screeching bites. Relief came in the form of demigod, snagging the snarling clown and throwing it aside with a single flick of the godlike being’s little finger. The clown slammed into the sewer’s ceiling, before tumbling straight down…right in front of a pipe-wielding Pierson.
(insert slamming sound here)
The beastie collapsed in a small pile on the wet floor, gasping and shrieking in agony. It continued its throes for several agonizing seconds before finally falling still as the grave, whatever amounted to blood oozing out of its recently-ventilated skull. The Task Force simply watched the creature, a mixture of horror and relief at the mangled sight before them. Unfortunately, not a single one of them had remembered the myriad of lessons gleamed from hours of late night horror movies, as the clown rose back to life…and then fell to its knees, weeping softly.
The next few minutes were uncomfortably silent, as each hero looked to the other for answers. Finding nothing, they instead returned their gaze to the once ferocious, now pitiful sight before them. “Okay…looks like we’ve won,” said Pierson. “Now what?”
As if triggering some ancient, forbidden cue…nothing happened. The Task Force looked around in slight confusion, while the clown continued to whimper at their feet. “I said, NOW WHAT?!” Still nothing.
“That’s funny,” said GG Crono. “Normally, the…Powers that Be turn on anyone that says that.”
“That’s it, then?” asked Mabat. “No second form, no last surge of power, no scheming mastermind or shadowy figures or scheming shadowy figure masterminds? We’ve actually won this quickly?”
“I must say, this has been…refreshing,” said demigod. “We easily stopped another threat to innocent life. While we have the chance, I recommend we take Nightmare the Clown back into custody. We may be able to find some practical use for his unusual existence.”
Pierson shrugged. “I guess. Alright, demi, just…freeze him or-“
The closing dialogue was interrupted by Galloway’s sudden phasing into existence, right in front of Nightmare. Everyone looked around in confusion, even the scurrying rats for some ungodly reason. GG Crono was the first one to stumble out something. “Um…what just…”
“By Kai, it’s that clown!” shouted Galloway. “Good thing I came back when I did!”
“We’ve got everything handled,” said Mabat. “Let’s just-”
Galloway’s fist slammed into the clown’s skull hard, sending the mutated entertainer/destroyer of children’s mental sanity sailing back a few dozen feet, coming to a soft plop on a pile of sludge. Before the monster could react, nor the Task Force could restrain their unwitting companion, the saiyan charged forward, grabbed the clown by the neck, and tore down the sewer tunnels. A few seconds later, the Task Force could hear a massive blast, followed by the entire sewer system shaking with the magnitude of a 2.0 earthquake. Finally, Galloway teleported back in front of them, covered in a mixture of what looked like dust, debris, and volcanic matter.
Demigod, quickly figuring out what just happened, floated through his companions and grabbed his leader by the neck. “You…you didn’t?”
Already remembering the close shave he has the LAST time they were in this position, Galloway’s mood soured rapidly. “I…was just trying to trap him down here. I hit him a little too hard. I…think I just blasted him into the Earth’s core.”
Everyone couldn’t believe what they just heard. Only one thought raced through their minds: they had to see if this was true.
A FEW HOURS LATER, OUTSIDE TASK FORCE HQ:
To call the destruction devastating would be an understatement.
Galloway’s assertion was, it seemed, partially correct. He didn’t QUITE puncture all the way through, or there would be no planet left to speak of. However, he did manage to hit a volcanic fault line. The resulting earthquake mostly struck countryside, but that had little impact on the true scale of the carnage. Not even counting the massive ecological damage, the cities and towns that were hit were reporting massive casualty rates, sometimes as high as 75%. RPGCity itself lost most of its suburban areas, especially in the area of New 984topia. RPG Town had lost all communication lines, but was reported to be suffering as well.
The entire ride home, the Task Force were silent. Even Heaven’s Soldier had not bothered with a debriefing. Finally, just as they were climbing out of the Task Force Mobile, Mabat broke the stillness. “What the hell happened to you, Gallo?”
“I…got a brief powerup while I was gone. I thought it was all out of my system. That…blast was the last of it, I’m sure.”
The Task Force was halfway to the door by now. “We’re gonna catch hell for this,” said Pierson. “Even the UN can’t overlook something THIS big.”
MEANWHILE, AT THE UN…
They overlooked something this big.
BACK AT THE TASK FORCE HQ…
“Look…I’m sure things will work out,” stammered Galloway. “I’ll just make some calls, get some PR going, and we’ll survive. Everything will be all right.”
Then the door opened on its own, revealing two black-suited G-men, both impressive looking in their G-maniness. The Task Forcers immediately jumped back and fell into a combat stance, eyes locking with the intruders. The G-men, for their part, made no such movement. One of the figures reached into a daftly-hidden jacket pocket and pulled out a small badge, with the UN logo stamped conspicuously behind his otherwise-obscured photo. “RPGC Task Force?”
The Task Forcers suddenly, and rather involuntarily, found themselves dropping their guard. “Um…yes?” asked Pierson.
“We’re here from the United Nations, Metahuman Wing,” said the agent. “We have come in response to a Report 53-FA, filed within the last few hours.”
“If…this is about that earthquake…”
“We have reviewed the organization’s past record of service,” continued the G-Man. “It is our conclusion that the Task Force will be allowed to continue operations in this sector.” Everyone breathed a sigh of relief. “However, we must amend a stipulation to this order.”
“And…that would be?” said Mabat, secretly hopeful.
“As of this moment, Metahuman X322004, aka d Galloway, is no longer a member of the RPGC Task Force.” Galloway’s face suddenly went very blank.
THE END OF ISSUE 24
Next Issue: Our first milestone! Finally!
Ever consider writing a retrospective for your own stories, Galloway? Your quip on the beginning of the last post seemed like something you’d write on a poorly written Sonic comic review “THANK GOD IT’S OVER”
Hey, its good to see you hanging in there, d. These stories are always fun to read, and I know you can get drained doing them. Just know we are still fans.
Ok, enough nice guy… time to do some post-disaster looting.
Glenton: Glad to see you back. It’s been lonely without you.
Mabat: If I DID do a retrospective, it would probably be more along the lines of “this sucked, that sucked, this whole thing sucked, I wasted seven years of my life on this, etc.”
Issue 25 should begin next week.
Alright, here’s the start of Issue 25. No title yet because…I can’t think of a good one. Sorry.
Issue 25: (title)
ABOUT TWO SECONDS AFTER THE LAST ISSUE ENDED…
Galloway continued to stare down at the documents before him, his face reflecting his feelings of total shellshock. The other Task Forcers huddled around him, their eyes scanning the papers as well. “But…what…”
“Under Code 29-X of the Metahuman Private Agency Act of 1952, you will be disbarred from any future government operations. Because of your high class level, any public use of your abilities will be considered a violation of the terms of your license, and subject to whatever penalties deemed necessary by the national government in question.” The G-man quickly took another breath. “Control of the RPGC Task Force will be given to Pierson, as is standard in the organization’s hierarchy. If you have any questions, you know who to contact. Have a good day, gentlemen.” With a silent, virtually non-existent nod, the G-men vanished into the night, never to be heard from again. That is, until the plot demanded their presence once more.
TEN MINUTES LATER, INSIDE THE HQ…
Galloway had already stormed off to his room to pack, leaving the rest of the Task Force alone to think about their recent change of fortune. Mabat, in particular, was already preparing the barbeque, completely in defiance of what happened the LAST time he tried that.
THE LAST TIME HE TRIED THAT…
Mabat finally finished pouring the lighter fluid into the pit. Grabbing a nearby lighter, he ignited the liquid…which caused the flames to attract themselves to his hairspray. The results were so not pretty.
BACK TO THE PRESENT…
“So…now what?” said GG Crono, in between sips of a small glass of cocoa.
“We’ll worry about that later,” said Pierson. “For now, let’s just go back to being regular heroes. An old lady here, a burning building there. After today, we’ll have to stay low.”
Demigod shrugged. “Or we simply arrest the bastard. He gets thrown in the stockade, the media quickly loses interest, and everything slowly returns to normal.”
“Can’t,” sighed Pierson. “If we follow that logic, we’ve broken out of jail, crashed a helicopter TWICE, broke into a maximum-security UN Council meeting, nearly killed three dozen people in that mind-controlling convention, destabilized an entire government, possibly burned down a warehouse, caused a fight in a public school, have endangered a child several times, stopped a technically legal logging operation, crashed our car into the business district, and somehow caused a hole in the space-time continuum and cancelled Firefly. Not that anyone cared about that last one.”
“So…we’re technically above the law?” said Mabat.
“Yep,” mumbled Crono. “As long as our insurance policy holds, that is.” Then it occurred to him. “Wait…why not ask Wil what to do? I mean, he lived through the ‘International Super Buddies of America’ Fiasco! He knows all about kicking members out!”
A SHORT TIME LATER, IN PUERTO RICO…
“I TOLD YOU! THAT HAPPENED FIFTEEN YEARS BEFORE I WAS BORN!” shouted Wil. His phone practically shaked with the sound of his rage. “I’m not that old, Sekker!”
“But…how WOULD you handle this?” said Mabat.
“Well…I suppose, if the decision’s already finalized, you could make a show trial of it all, maybe point out his many, many faults, get him to approve a little. I mean, they didn’t kick Commander Invincible out forever after he accidentally smashed half of Siberia during the Secret Martian Invasion of 1987.”
“…Didn’t Commander Invincible go insane, change his name to Overclock, steal the souls of a hundred worlds, and finally get banished to a thousand universes at once?”
“Well…Okay, but up to THAT POINT, he actually pulled himself together. Now, this is what you should do…”
(to be continued)
First of all, congratulations on your first milestone, d! You what that means, right?
MILESTONE CAIK!!!
And its good to read your stuff again (even if you whine more than my old lawnmower.) 
Now if ONLY I could get MY writing process kickstarted again Squeezes his own brain
Oh, yummy cake!
Here’s the rest of the issue. For a milestone, it’s really short and does nothing. Mostly because I’m just tired of this chapter already, partially because of school, and partially because I stumbled across my old anime collection and…
In any case, here we go:
ONE HOUR OF FRENZIED CONSTRUCTION BY A LEGION OF ONE-EYED CARPENTERS LATER…
Galloway finally emerged from his room, eyes slightly red, holding a partially-filled large cardboard box. Unfortunately, all of the furniture was welded into the floor, as if everyone had heard of the last time he stayed in a hotel…
(Scene missing)
It was just as he was crossing the threshold from the living quarters to the meeting room that he saw the long bench, laid out in the most judicial of styles. Pierson was already sitting at the head, while everyone else was placed at various distances from their new leader. Their eyes were locked on the saiyan, seemingly peering into his very soul.
“Wh-What is this?” muttered Galloway
Pierson cleared his throat. “Listen. We know you’ve been kicked out and all-“
“For good reason,” added Mabat. Pierson gave him a slight smack with a gavel as punishment. “We know of a way you can be reinstated into the program. However, you have to be willing to go through a…” He shifted through the papers, looking for the exact title. “Tribunal, or something like that.”
“Couldn’t you just shoot me and get it over with?” said Galloway.
“As tempting as that sounds, we cannot,” said demigod. “Now, take a seat.” The strange alien motioned towards a waiting chair, sitting long and empty in the darkness. With a heavy sigh, Galloway took the seat, cardboard box in his hands all the while. “We shall begin by discussing your…leadership qualities.”
Pierson reached under the table, and pulled out a small newsclipping of a relatively low-key bank robbery. “A month ago, we were called in to stop a routine set of bandits. It was supposed to be quiet, low key, and so on. But you…”
A MONTH AGO…
The Task Force and RPGCPD sat in front of the barricaded Fifth National Bank of RPGC. The robbers were all still inside, armed with a few handguns and enough dynamite to level the entire building. Pierson quickly jumped down before the team, dressed entirely in black and holding a used grappling hook. Heaven’s Soldier was the first to approach him. “What did you learn?”
The former thief whipped out a small map he had drawn of the bank’s interior. Four small dots were placed around a large, circular door, along with a few other dots behind the door itself. “The emergency exits have all been temporarily sealed, as per RPGCity’s safety policy. The only way in or out of the building is through the front. They have three hostages in the vault, but the idiots also shut the door. The ventilation system will keep them alive long enough for us to bust in and free them.”
Heaven’s Soldier pointed to three small skylights on the roof of the building. “Okay. Pierson, Galloway and Mabatsekker will each take one of these lights. While they’re doing that, demigod can manipulate some of the smaller lights and other effects to disorient them. Finally, Mabatsekker can simply smash in the front door and free the hostages. Any comments?”
Everyone’s eyes darted back and forth, until they finally noticed something was missing: Galloway. “Um…where’s d?” asked GG. It was then that they finally saw the small note, sitting where the saiyan once stood:
“This is boring. Just bust their heads in, blow the vault open, free hostages, and be home for dinner. –Galloway.”
BACK TO THE PRESENT…
“And you know how that mess turned out,” finished Pierson. “Heaven’s Soldier had to fill in for you, but since there was no one to coordinate the rest of the team, demigod got the timing wrong, and Mabat got shot TWICE because of a trap at the front door.”
Galloway continued to stare dispassionately. “I fail to see how the trap was my fault. And besides, it sounds like Heaven’s Soldier had everything in line.”
“That’s not the issue!” shouted Mabat. “You were appointed to head this whole group! And one of those responsibilities is not cutting out just because you lost interest! Misreading any situation can lead to the destruction of entire lives.” His voice lowered heavily. “We got lucky that night. YOU got lucky that night.”
“…Okay, is that all?” sighed Galloway. “Yes, I wasn’t much of a leader, but-”
“There is also the matter of your…fighting discipline,” said demigod. “I will admit, you have considerable skills, all of which would no doubt be helpful in any real conflict. However, you apply these abilities strictly to the fields of murder and death.”
A MONTH AGO, AT A DUDE RANCH…
The Task Force stood on the wooden porch, their minds quietly contemplating why they were here, wearing silly cowboy hats. Pierson was the first to break the silence. “Um…why are we here, wearing silly cowboy hats?”
“We were supposed to be chaperoning the RPGC Elementary school trip,” said Mabat. He looked down at his watch. “Speaking of which, we have another ten minutes of relative quiet.”
“Well…” grunted GG Crono. “If nobody else minds, I’m gonna go see if any cowgirls showed up. I hear they’re especially hot this time of year.”
“And I’m gonna go grab something to eat,” said Mabat.
“And I’m going to get out of this stupid hat,” said Pierson. “I can feel it sucking mah IQ wit’ every passing minute. Bush/Cheney ’04!” And with that last stupid reason, only Galloway and demigod were left on the porch, staring out into the wilderness.
“Forgive me, but I have a question,” said demigod. Galloway simply nodded. “Why do you seek so much death? What tragedy created a monster such as you?”
“Well…I was engineered by birth to be some sort of future monster, for reasons I can’t figure out, by a mad scientist-slash-time travel.” There was no reaction from the formless cloaked being. “Oh, you mean, something along the lines of dead parents, families caught in a gang war, that kind of thing?”
“I…believe that is how things work on this world,” said demigod. “Or at least, that is what Martinez hypothesized.”
Galloway shook his head. “None of the above.” NOW demigod started to stir a little. “What I do is simply logical.” More surprised silence, now slowly seeping into righteous fury. “I mean, we can smack down all the lunatics in the world, stop every two-bit gangster we can find, and hell, we could possibly even snatch every crooked politician and terrorist on the planet in one swoop. But then what? We just dump them in front of a jail long enough for their lawyers to spring them on some technicality. We can’t win playing by the rules, so why not break them?”
Demigod grabbed Galloway around the throat, his claws threatening to rip out precious blood as they tightened. “That is not logical at all. Our purpose is to stop those that would abuse their gifts, help keep the people safe. You advocate nothing more than genocide.”
“I…I didn’t…” Galloway gurgled. Just in time, however, the school buses started to pull up, dispensing their hellish charges onto the sore, broken backs of the RPGC Task Force.
BACK IN THE PRESENT…
“A hero, a true hero, never kills when they can prevent it,” said demigod. “You, on the other hand, promote mass murder and grotesque retribution. We cannot allow for such actions to take place.”
Galloway just continued to sit there, motionless as ever.
MEANWHILE, BACK IN PUERTO RICO…
Wilfredo glanced down at his watch, nodding in approval at the time. “Alright, if everything is on schedule, they should be wrapping the tribunal up right…about…”
MEANWHILE, BACK AT TASK FORCE HQ…
Everything was completely silent, as the news being spread about slowly began to sink in. Finally, GG Crono broke the gloom. “Alright, time to wrap this whole mess up. Galloway, do you understand why- ”
He stopped when he saw the saiyan standing up, cardboard box in hand. “Um…what are you doing?”
“Leaving,” said Galloway. “We’re already done here.”
Mabat slammed his hands down hard, nearly breaking the desk. “Damn it, Gallo! Don’t you see this is for your own benefit? Look, when you boil it down, you’re a good hero. Hell, probably a great one in the right circumstances. But you can’t keep going on these sprees!”
insert standard eye glare effect
Galloway stared long and hard at the blue mage. “What?”
“You murdered the last of my people,” said demigod.
“You killed those anti-catbeing protestors,” said GG Crono.
“You threatened to crush a man’s head in a press,” said Pierson.
“And let’s not forget the EARTHQUAKE YOU JUST CAUSED!” finished Mabat.
Everything took a few seconds to calm down. Finally, Galloway set the box down and approached the bench. “All right, everyone. Let’s get some things straight, shall we?”
“demigod, your people were dead. You killed them all. Even if we had brought him back, there was no way anyone could fix what you caused. I was granting him a shred of mercy.”
“Crono, they tried to kill me first. If we hadn’t done anything, they would have most likely killed other civilians. I ended a problem.”
“Pierson, yes, that was a messy idea. But you, GG and Weiila were in trouble. If we hadn’t pulled that info, we would never have found you.”
“Mabat…I’m sorry. I was feeling full of power, and I didn’t think straight. You should know all about THAT, I guess.” The blue mage gritted his teeth, while everyone else continued to stare ahead silently.
“Now, here’s my final words. Our motives are exactly the same. Deep down, we all want to make things better, try and help those that cannot help themselves and all that rubbish. The difference is, my ideas work. With you, those same goons will be right back the next day. With me, they’re dead. Finito. Is it perfect? No, but given what we currently have going, I’d gladly try something new.”
Nobody responded for several minutes. Finally, Pierson cleared his throat. “Goodbye, d Galloway. Remember what we discussed here, for your sake.”
TWO MINUTES LATER, OUTSIDE THE TASK FORCE HQ…
Galloway closed the bunker doors for the last time, his eyes looking long and hard at the setting sun as he did so. This was certainly not the homecoming he had been expecting, that was for sure. But in any case, it was done. He was a civilian again. No more worlds to save, villains to defeat, maidens to rescue. Maybe he could finally find some peace.
And then he saw Martinez, standing impatiently down the road. “That took way too long,” sighed the mage. “My last tribunal took, what, ten minutes?”
Galloway strolled up to Martinez, a look of paranoid disbelief in his eyes. “What do you want?”
“I heard everything you said,” said Martinez. “Nobody in there was interested in a rebuttal, so I thought I’d provide one.” He pointed to the box. “Just…set that down, for now.”
The saiyan sighed slightly as he put the box down…and Martinez’s staff slammed under his chin, with a force Galloway had scarcely thought possible by Martinez. The warrior was sent hurtling backwards, landing in a pile on the hard ground. Before he could respond, the very ground around his hands and legs formed itself into makeshift cuffs, trapping him to the earth. The saiyan tried to pull free, but the sheer magical force would not let the things budge.
Martinez slowly approached his captive, his face bitter like a teacher with a troublesome pupil. “That is an exact allocation of force. I used no more than what was needed to defeat you, while still leaving you in one piece. If I wanted do, I could have turned you to stone, or trapped you between dimensions. I could make every organ in your body explode at once, or flat-out erase you from existence.
“But I won’t. And do you know why? Because I’m not a god. I’m not a judge. I don’t even know every law there is out there.” The earth-cuffs finally slid back, freeing a still-shocked Galloway. “But I have to serve as an inspiration. We all do. If the world is a horrible place, we don’t accept it. We stand fast, and we make it change. We are not gods, we are just a bunch of extremely lucky bastards. Our powers weren’t destiny; they were a cosmic fluke of existence.”
“But…I can’t…” muttered Galloway. “GOD…he…”
Martinez pulled the dirtied former hero to his feet. “Is that what this is about? Sonny, I’ve met a lot of time travelers, and the one thing I’ve learned is that the future is not set. Nobody’s is. You had a chance to learn what your current path would lead to, and now you can change it. Make the world a better place, and maybe GOD will never exist.”
Galloway’s face suddenly lit up like that cheap Christmas tree back at the hotel. “I…I understand now.” He quickly grasped Martinez’s hand and gave it a good shake, unwittingly nearly tearing the mage’s arm off. “I wish I could stay, but I have a lot to do.” And with that, he grabbed his box and marched off.
The rest of the Task Force, eager to see what the shouting was about, quickly exited the bunker. Together, the five watched their former leader step off into the distance, for what could be the very last time. It was then that Pierson saw one item, sitting on a nearby rock. It was the perfect sendoff, the most melodramatic, glurge-tastically annoying thing he could have left.
It was a picture of the Task Force, the day after their founding. Just…all five, standing in front of the HQ, smiles wide (except for demigod…possibly), eyes hopeful (again, except for demigod). As if obeying some silent cue from the Powers That Be, a quick wind blew the photograph into the distance before the new leader of the Task Force could think to catch it.
THE END OF ISSUE 25
Next Issue: The Illuminati.