Author's Notes: And we're back! Time for the grand finale!

The story's not finished being written yet, but it's more than halfway there, so we've got a pretty good buffer going. Figured those of you who have been patient enough to stick with us had waited long enough! We hope you enjoy the rewritten version of Retro Chill!

It shifted in the background, always there, always watching.

It never did anything unless it had to. A nudge here. A tweak there. Just to keep the series going. Creating an unbreakable cycle that it could live off of for all eternity. It was content to just exist and let them do their thing.

But then, it all started to go wrong, when time started moving again.

When that dratted boy decided he was ready to grow up.

When they decided it was time to face reality.

Now, there were too many variables. Too many things breaking the cycle.

Rupert was becoming increasingly desperate to win. Earl now saw how dangerous he was.

Retro was back in the battle again, believing all this was some fantasy brought to life.

Dr Brainstorm was beginning to notice he wasn't about to rule the world anytime soon.

Calvin was now seven years old and about to embark on second grade, allowing life to age him naturally.

The status quo was broken.

And it was no good. It needed to ensure that it still had something to live off of.

So it devised a scenario. For the first time, it decided it was time to interfere more directly. A few bad dreams here. A few technical glitches there. A teleporter didn't work right. An escape from an alien planet was allowed. A pod headed for a prison planet was altered.

The final game was to be played.

"Awwwww, come on! Just one more game!" Calvin wailed.

Hobbes eyed him critically. "No more," he grunted. "We've had enough."

"Yeah, I can only come home covered in so many smudges before my parents start to think I'm in danger of going to monster truck rallies," Andy agreed.

Calvin grunted and kicked a pebble with his foot, looking around his backyard. They'd been playing Calvinball for the better part of the day in the hot sun, and it was beginning to be too much for even them. Hobbes, Andy, Sherman and Socrates all lay in a heap on the ground, their black masks at odd angles, hopelessly out of breath and sweltering in the heat.

Around them were a scattering of wickets, badmintons, tennis rackets, baseball bats and spent water balloons. It had been a heated game. Every man for himself. But no one was altogether certain who had won. This wasn't an odd occurrence, but when even Calvinball becomes too nonsensical to truly enjoy, it was time to call it a day.

Not that Calvin would ever admit that. He grumbled behind his own slipshod mask and pouted. "You bunch of sissies," he snorted. "Giving up before things got interesting."

Sherman snorted from atop the pile of friends. "Beg your pardon, dear boy," he said, "but if you don't consider it 'interesting' when a certain someone is willing to bet his entire college savings on whether or not he can reach the score of 'bookle' by throwing a volleyball over six trees into a gopher hole, I'd like to know what is."

Andy snorted, offended. "Hey, I would've made it if it hadn't been for that crosswind!"

Socrates lifted his head. For once, the hyperactive tiger was too tired for his usual off-the-wall shenanigans. "I vote we all take a group nap right here in this very spot."

"Sounds like a plan," agreed Hobbes.

"Ugh," grunted Andy. "How can anyone sleep under that sun when it's so busy pummeling us?"

"Grow yourself a full body of fur," replied Sherman. "Then you'll know true heat."

Calvin growled. "Just listen to yourselves! The end of the summer vacation is upon us! This is my last week before school starts again! How can we just sit around and do nothing?! We should be trying to squeeze as much fun as possible out of it before I'm forced back into a desk to listen to some teacher yak all day about why I'm not supposed to have fun as an adult!"

Hobbes gave him a disdainful look as he dragged himself out of his friend-pile. "Look, you've been trying to cram as much fun as you can in before school starts, but you're in such a panic over having fun, you're not actually having fun."

"Nonsense! I'm having fun! I'm having all the fun! Fun squared! Cubed! I'm just…" He trailed off, hoping he'd think of something. "It's just hard to have all the fun you can when you keep running out of time! Stupid time keeps moving forward! If only I hadn't let the timeline start running at normal speed again! It's all your fault, Hobbes!"

Hobbes blinked. "My fault? How did this become my fault?"

"You didn't stop me! I had the power of time and space in my hand, and instead of wiping school from the face of existence, you let me start getting older! What were you thinking?!"

"I was thinking, 'gosh, how mature of my friend to decide that it was time to start getting older and face the future like a man'."

"Well, that should've tipped you off that something was wrong! Now I'm trying to have as many happy memories that I can before it's too late!"

"Oh, please. You'd be doing the exact same thing whether time was moving or not. For the last thirty-something years, right before first grade started up again, you'd be panicking about summer being almost over and trying to 'cram more fun' before the week was up."

"Hmph! Well, if you're just going to bring up the past like some kind of jerk…"

Sherman rolled his eyes at the argument. "Calvin, you're just experiencing ager's remorse. You're aging, and you're panicked about it. Mortality is weighing down upon you."

Calvin glared at him. "Is this the part where I feel better yet?"

Andy cleared his throat. "What he means is, you need to stop and just enjoy life for what it is. Life is coming, whether you like it or not. You can either run from it, or you can just kick back, drink some criminally over-priced bottled water and let it come."

"Yeah," agreed Socrates. "Time to relax. Time to chill. Time to mentally plan who's going to be the next person you dump a gallon of mustard on." They all looked at him in bemusement. "Or am I the only one who does that?"

"How am I supposed to chill with all this stress weighing down on me?" Calvin demanded. "How can I relax when every single second just keeps ticking away like it's nothing?"

Hobbes thought for a moment before remembering something. "Well… if it helps, maybe we could just… preserve a single second."

"Huh?"

"Time pauser?"

Calvin remembered the little plastic device that used to be a top spinner and pulled it out of his pocket. Small, handheld, bright yellow with a red button…

They all walked out into the middle of a field around the base of Sneer Hill. It was a big wide open space full of tall grass. Perfect for doing nothing in. They all grouped together, taking in the scenery.

"Gosh, you can almost hear yourself think out here," remarked Andy.

"Feels weird being away from all my technology," added Sherman.

Socrates looked up from his smartphone. "Oh, were we supposed to not have these?"

"Put it away, Socrates," admonished Hobbes. "We're not going to be chat-snapping or whatever out here. Time for some relaxation in a truly peaceful environment."

"Whatever we're going to do, let's do it quickly," Calvin snapped. "The seconds are ticking."

He held out the Time Pauser, and they all reached forward and put a hand – or paw – on it. His thumb pressed the button, and they all felt the shockwave wash over them and spread all over the landscape. The wind stopped blowing. The tall grass stopped swaying. Some birds froze in mid-flight. The insects stopped chirping.

The five of them stood in the field, taking in the silence.

"Well!" Socrates said at last. "Just as well we're not using phones. Can't get any Wi-Fi signals here anyway."

"Oh, darn," Andy drawled.

"Well, here we are," Hobbes said. "One single second of time, preserved for our comfort. No more ticking and tocking. Time is ours."

Calvin looked around at the frozen scenery, nodding slowly. "Yeah… Yeah, I guess it is. We've finally got time right where we want it. We could live in this single second all we want. Not getting any older. No more conflict. No more anxiety. No more reasons to run around in blind panic. Just sit back and enjoy, gentlemen."

They all sat down in the tall grass, trying to situate it comfortably when it was frozen. They had to really force the grass down as it was like sleeping on a bed of nails when it was stuck in position. The air in the frozen second was staler than they were expecting, too. Not refreshing at all.

Still, they all tried it out. They weren't sure how long for, and there was really no way to check.

Also, there were no sounds. Absolutely nothing. It was dead silent right now.

They all lied on their backs for a while, but with absolutely no noise, it was difficult to relax. They were too unsettled, which just made them all look around anxiously, like something was about to attack them.

This is what horror movies have done to us, people.

Calvin sat up. "This stinks."

"Terribly," agreed Sherman.

"I miss my texts!" Socrates grunted.

They all crawled over to Calvin, who held out the Time Pauser, and they all grabbed hold as he once again pressed the button, and time slowly started up again. The grass became softer, the birds resumed flying and the bugs buzzed around them.

"Well!" said Andy. "That was a wash."

"Yeah, it's not much fun enjoying peace and quiet when it's one hundred percent peaceful and quiet," agreed Calvin.

Hobbes shrugged. "Well, we tried," he said. "Guess we'll just have to enjoy summer the old-fashioned way."

"… Yeah, I guess we will…"

Hobbes patted him on the shoulder. "Come on, little buddy. I know the future is a scary place, but I find that thinking about other things helps you to cope with it."

"Such as?"

"Well, for starters… we could try leaving this field before we get eaten alive by the various blood-sucking parasites living within it."

"Yeah, I'm probably going to need a flea collar by the time this is over," agreed Socrates, already scratching at himself.

Slapping at the little black specks moving around on their bodies, the group turned and fled the field.

"We couldn't have done this in your backyard?!" Andy yelped.

Speaking of Calvin's backyard, his mother was currently standing on the back porch, observing her son from a distance. She saw him with Andy, and they were carrying around two stuffed tigers, and there was a hamster on Andy's shoulder. She squinted her eyes at them, but nothing changed. That's all she saw. And normally, that would've been fine, because that's all she would have expected to see.

But now, she didn't know. Not anymore.

Everything she thought she knew about her son had been put into question after their latest camping trip. The camping trip from a couple weeks ago where nothing particularly out of the ordinary happened.

Other than a dream she'd had where they'd all been attacked by a mad scientist with a great big machine, only to be saved by Calvin and his stuffed tiger – except the stuffed tiger came to life and started walking and talking like any human would.

It was only a dream, of course. A ridiculous impossible dream.

But her husband had had it, too. The same dream with a walking talking Hobbes, an intelligent hamster, another tiger, a spaceship, two little aliens, a device that froze time with a device that froze objects in ice. It didn't make a lick of sense, but they'd had that same dream on the same night, and they remembered the conversations had and explanations given.

It had to be a dream, though, right? Because there was no way any of it could have been true.

But what if that was just their brains trying to cope with the reality of it?

She was snapped out of her thoughts when she heard the front door shut, and she went inside to greet Calvin's father as he came inside from work, putting his briefcase and hat away. They greeted each other and kissed before heading for the kitchen.

"What's Calvin up to?" he asked.

"Playing with Andy on the hill…"

"Oh, good."

"Yeah… with Hobbes… and the other tiger… and the hamster."

Dad nodded. "Same as always."

"I know. It's just… I keep thinking about that dream…"

"Dear, we've discussed this. It had to have been a dream. I mean, Calvin's stuffed animal suddenly morphing into a real-life living being is ridiculous."

"I know, I know, but it's so weird. I could swear I've seen him more than once."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, one night after we got home, I heard the TV on in the living room. I thought Calvin had snuck downstairs again, so I went to turn it off… Except he wasn't there. Hobbes was."

"So he left Hobbes on the couch and the TV on."

"Hobbes was eating chips."

"… He was what?"

"He was eating chips, and we had a very pleasant conversation."

Dad blinked. "Well… that must've been a dream, too."

"But what if it wasn't? I mean… I know it's crazy, but what if it's all true? What if it's always been true? That Hobbes is a real tiger, and we've just been too blind to see it? And if it's true, what does that make Calvin if he's the only one who can?"

Dad put his hands on her shoulders. "Dear, calm down. There's no sense in panicking about this. No reason to get scared."

Mom nodded. "I suppose you're right… I mean, if Hobbes was dangerous, he would've eaten Calvin a long time ago, right?"

"What? No! I mean, because it isn't real! It can't be! I mean, if our son were off with tigers and hamsters and aliens and evil doers all the time, we'd notice, wouldn't we?"

They stared at each other for a long moment.

"… We can check his room for evidence," he decided.

Mom nodded, and they hurried up the stairs to Calvin's room. They walked inside, looking around for anything out of the ordinary.

They saw all the back-to-school supplies they had made him load up on, from notebook paper to new binders, and also not sorted into his backpack like they'd told him to. Nothing odd about that. They also saw some drawings of a small red flying saucer flying through space with a little blonde pilot inside. Seemed normal enough. His comic books were a bit scattered on the bed. That seemed about right.

Mom peered under the bed. "Oh, if it turns out the monsters under his bed are real, I'm going to feel just awful about it."

Dad ignored her and noticed something sitting on the bedside table. It was a water pistol. "Wait," he said, picking it up. "I've seen this before. He plays with it sometimes, but he hardly ever puts any water into it."

Mom looked at it. "Oh, yeah," she said, snapping her fingers, trying to remember. "It's his… Transmogrifier Gun?"

"Ah yes, the thing that supposedly turned him into an owl."

"But I saw him use it in the dream. Hobbes used it to turn a great big monster into a rock."

They looked at it, almost scared of it now.

"Well!" Dad said, scratching his head nervously. "It… can't possibly do that, right? I mean… you can't just turn something into something else just by thinking it, right?"

"No, of course… not," Mom stammered, trying to convince herself it was correct.

"I mean," Dad went on, "if I wanted to say…" He looked around and saw something on the dresser. "… Turn this alarm clock into a turtle, that'd be impossible!"

"Exactly!"

They both chuckled uncomfortably at the idea. Trying to be playful, Dad took the gun and pointed it at the clock. "See? I'll just transmogrify it right here! Pew, pew!" He squeezed the trigger.

Nothing happened.

"You see? Nothing!"

They both forced out more laughter, feeling only slightly relieved, but the sound of the backdoor slamming made them jump. They dropped the Transmogrifier Gun back where they found it and hurried outside into the hall just as Calvin was coming up the stairs, carrying Hobbes over his shoulder.

"Hey!" he said. "What's going on up here?"

"Oh, nothing!" Mom said quickly, trying to move past him. "We're just… talking about dinner!"

Calvin made a face. "If it's eggplant casserole again, I swear I'm moving." He stormed passed them towards his room, and he shut the door behind him.

Mom and Dad stared at the shut door in silence for a few minutes before looking at each other. They smiled slightly, feeling a little better about the whole thing. They were just turning to go back downstairs when they heard a voice from behind the door.

"Hey, Hobbes! Why's there a turtle on my dresser?"

They both stopped where they stood and looked back at the door in shock.

Meanwhile, far across the universe, there was a distant red dot in the sky that was, upon further inspection, a planet.

The planet was at least ninety percent lava, in orbit around a mean-looking sun, with a couple of moons around it. This was once a most feared little planet. One of the most dreaded in the galaxy. Few dared to approach it over the centuries, as this was the planet Zok, home to the terrifying race known as the Zokians.

For so long, they had ruled over several other planets in the universe, forcing them to bow down and practically worship their exalted ruler, Rupert Chill. He dominated planet after planet, rejoicing in the pain he caused and how it enabled him to build his empire. No one dared do anything to stop him, lest he headed for their world next.

And then, he found Earth. The first time any world leader stood up to him. A mere child, at that, and his feline companion. They had stood before him and put an end to his invasion before it could even really begin.

That had been their battle for years. He would attempt to invade the world by taking out the Earth Potentate, only for the Earth Potentate to stop him again and again. Their battles had escalated in their ferocity and their complexity. The boy had trapped him in an Earth prison for several months. He had trapped the boy and his tiger on a cruise ship for even longer. The boy had revealed them to the world.

It had been so difficult to keep this going, especially with the massive war they had just had. With his almost single-minded focus on killing Calvin, he had seemingly forgotten that he still had loads of other planets to rule. So while he was distracted, those other planets had fought back. They'd shaken Zok off like a bad case of fleas and gone back to rebuilding their respective governments, now working together to ensure that they would never be ruled by outside worlds again.

Now the war was over. Zok was also in the process of rebuilding. The people of his world were nothing if not resilient. Unfortunately, without things coming in from other planets, they were now effectively on their own. Not that many of them minded. In fact, many Zokians were perfectly happy with the way things had turned out. Not all of them were interested in wreaking havoc. Many of them were content to just get on with their lives if it meant no more insanity.

Except for the super-rich and elite, of course, who were annoyed that their evil tyrant was losing power, and they were threatening to stop donating money to his kingdom if he didn't do something to appease their demands.

That's the charming story of how Rupert found himself sitting alone in a debilitated throne room. The whole place was falling apart, dimly lit and silent, save for the creaking of the chandelier that only had three of its fifty lights working. He was in a miserable funk. He barely ate or moved. A casual observer might notice a thin coating of dust all over him.

He was ruined. The mighty king was now the joke of the universe. He'd had the ultimate power, and he'd lost it.

But did he blame himself? Of course not.

It was that boy's fault. Making him a laughing stock. Reducing him to this.

He was so busy being lost in a funk that he didn't hear the door open, and he didn't notice his most faithful captain and trusted companion, Earl, poking his head through the door.

"… Your Highness?" he called out across the vast throne room. "You okay?"

Rupert didn't react. He just stared into space, like nothing had happened.

Deciding to take a chance, Earl slithered across the messy room, peering through the darkness at his depressed leader. "Rupert…?" he ventured again. "I don't suppose there's a slim chance you're in a somewhat decent mood?"

Still no reaction.

Earl sighed. "Well, that's a shame. It would've helped cushion the bad news I'm bringing you."

There was a brief spark of irritation in Rupert's eyes that told Earl to maintain his distance.

"So… the people of Zok are rebuilding. We're starting to get local businesses off the ground. Children back in school. That sort of thing. Unfortunately… they're a bit miffed that you haven't really been, you know… helping much with that. You haven't said a word of encouragement or done much to acknowledge what's happening. You're just sort of… hiding in here. They're not all that happy about it."

He heard Rupert's breathing get imperceptibly quicker, causing him to slither backwards and to speak a tad louder to compensate.

"So… they've been talking quite a bit, and the latest numbers are in… Seems there's talk of… well… deposing you…"

One of Rupert's tentacles twitched, so he slithered back even further.

"I mean, there's always been talk of deposing you. Most of our citizens have been against your tyrannical rule for several decades now. It's just that… with you more or less inactive, it's starting to look like it might… actually… happen."

There was a horrible loud noise as Rupert finally got up from his throne and picked it up, subsequently throwing it through the air. It crashed into the creaking chandelier, sending them both crashing to the floor in splintering wood, breaking glass and clanging metal.

Earl was quietly relieved he'd gotten out of the way. "So… you took that well."

Rupert punched a wall a few times, putting a huge crack in it, before rounding on Earl again. "I want… that… boy… DEAD!" he bellowed.

Earl nodded. "Yes, I know. I've known that for a long time now. However… it might behoove you to… maybe… move on? I mean… maybe you'll like being deposed? You'll have time for fishing in the Lava Rivers, some meditation, maybe finally take up tennis?"

"Whose side are you on?!"

"Yours, sir, I swear! It's just that… well, things aren't looking good. The best plan of action right now is to start helping to rebuild the kingdom. Show the people you care about their plight. Offer a plan of action to focus on Zok's needs from now on."

During this, Rupert had started punching the wall again.

"… A-a-a-a-a-and you didn't listen to a word of that, did you?"

"I will have that boy killed," Rupert growled. "I want him dead…"

His insanity was thankfully paused by a third Zokian slithering through the door. It was one of the servants, slightly shorter than them and dressed like an alien butler. "Beg pardon, Your Highness," he said in an almost British-sounding voice. "We've received reports that some sort of pod has crashed not far from here."

Earl frowned. "A pod?"

"Indeed, sir. It is currently being transported to the capitol for examination. Seems to contain some kind of lifeform."

"I see… Well then, I'd better go see about it."

Earl turned to leave, but a voice stopped him.

"Wait."

It was Rupert. He'd stopped pounding the wall during the conversation.

"I'm the king. I'll investigate what piece of disgusting alien filth has dropped itself on my planet."

He slithered past them towards the door. Earl stared after him, wondering if this was a good sign or not.

The butler tutted at the mess on the floor. "Dearie me, this is the sixth time we've had to replace that chandelier…"

Author's Notes: And we're off! Hope it was worth the wait! As always, please leave a review and read on!