A/N:

Disclaimer: I do not own MechQuest, Warlic, GEARS University, or any other Artix Entertainment symbols, titles, or-- forget it, you know what I mean. The only one I own is Gear.

Prologue:

A Second Start

The streetlamp flickered slightly, casting an eerie glow on the two figures in the alley. The first, a tall man, dressed in a trench coat and hat, and an apparent hump on his back. The second, a young boy, no more than seventeen years of age, at the least, with black, dishelved hair--some people would call it crazy-- and dark brown eyes. He wore a mech pilot's usual uniform, despite the self-designed emblem on his right shoulder: A black dragon coiled around a red and silver shield. This was Gear Clockwork: Fighter, dealer, and potential disaster. The two seemed to be discussing some kind of business, despite the dank surroundings.

"How much will you give me for these?" Trench coat asked, handing over a few scrap parts left over from ShadowScythe mechs. The man was a parts dealer, and, shall we say, did not come by them honestly.

"Is this all you have?" Gear asked, frowning at the limited supplies on the ground in front of him. "The only decent equipment you have here are the Shadow ICBMs or the Shadow Napalms. You could've at least tried." He added, tossing a Shadow Ray aside, and grinning as he heard the metal casing crack.

"You punk!" Trench coat shouted, bringing a ham-sized fist up in an awkward left hook.

"Hmm. And, the funny thing is, you think you can win." Gear muttered, grabbing trench coat's left arm in his right hand, and using his left hand to grab him by the throat. "Maybe next time, you'll learn not to waste my time." Gear said, growling as he flipped the larger man into a nearby wall, laughing to himself as he heard a bone snap. "I will take the Napalms and ICBMs, though. I might find a buyer for them somewhere."

Gear started, nearly jumping ten feet in the air as he heard footsteps behind him. "Congratulations, Gear Clockwork." A voice said, and Gear could hear hands clapping. "The SPD has been after that arms dealer for weeks now. There seems to be a warrant out for you, as well. Tell me, have you heard of a school known as GEARS University?"

"Who are you, and, what is it that you want from me?" Gear asked, not quite able to make out the form of the man in the shadows.

"Gear, tell me something: Do you want to be a wanted man for the rest of your life? Or, do you want a chance to set things right?"

"I want to make up for the things I've done." Gear said, letting his gaze drop to the ground.

"I know you do, my child. Now, I think it's time that I answered your questions. My name is Warlic, and, I want you to get on the next shuttle to GEARS University."

A/N: I will be accepting additional characters. Use the following format in a review, and, I'll let you know.

Name:

Age:

Appearance:

Personality:

Mech:

Mech Description: (If it's a mech that YOU created. We all know what the others look like.)

Handheld Weapon:

AI: (Yes, AI's will be coming into play soon. Not MQ, but this story.)

Also, a question for you guys: I'm creating a mech, and I've got the artwork down, ready to be turned into a description. But, I'm torn on the name: Harbringer or Dreadnaught? Vote, vote now!