Yes, it's a new one-shot. Yes, I know I've got other stories I need to update. No, this habit may never stop. Onward, then!
[Note: Anyone who hasn't read Wherever Girl and Fanatic97's Security Authors series may not understand what's going on. Enjoy your confusion!]
Starring:
-Fanatic97: Crazy-author with a talent for using heavy weaponry.
-Tracker78: Animatronic-shewolf with great shooting skills.
-Anti-Twilight Forever: The insane, immortal, ageless, psychic author-kid writing this thing.
-Hater79: Robotic-clone of Fanatic with incredible bloodlust and violent-streak.
Disclaimer: All cameos and OC belong to their respectful owners.
~X~
Acme Labs!
Known for its outrageous technology, popular client Wile E. Coyote, and Pinky and the Brain's many attempts to take over the world, it is the Number One place in the tooniverse that supplies all heroes (and sometimes antagonists) with the gadgets they need to save the world, carry out plans, have kick-awesome battles, be the baddest of the badasses…
…or allow minor shows to borrow unused/old equipment when their budget runs out and they can't afford any gear for special effects.
The latter was the case with Fanatic97, Tracker78, and Anti-Twilight Forever (ATF) as they walked through the grounds. With a hiatus going on (again), they decided to use this time to find better equipment to be used in their Security Authors series.
"I can't believe it. All this equipment, and we can't afford a single proton-blaster!" Fanatic said, looking at the list of tech that was offered for sale. "Seriously, $5000 for a bottle of Chemical X? I mean c'mon, Professor Utonium, I know the reboot isn't killing you THAT bad!"
"Speak for yourself, I hear even Mojo Jojo is preparing for retirement." ATF replied. "Too bad he won't sell any of his tech, I'd love to cruise the city in one of those giant mech-suits he always uses,"
"Anti, you have no room to make comments. It's your fault we're here!" Tracker scolded.
"For the last time, I went to Vegas! And I didn't lose all my money to the slot machines- those souvenir stores will make you break the bank over a jacket! It would have been cheaper to go to Disney World!"
"Mm, not really, unless the Disney cast we work with could help us get special discounts," Fanatic said, looking at the list. "…$30,000 for an ACME rocket kit? Geez, how does Wile E. Coyote afford this stuff?!"
"Let's check out one of the warehouses," Tracker suggested. "There's gotta be something cheap and durable around here somewhere,"
"So long as it's not a hooker," ATF shuddered. "Saw enough of those in Vegas… yikes."
Tracker and Fanatic rolled their eyes, and they entered a warehouse, seeing a variety of tech inside.
Tracker looked at the portal from 'Treasure Planet'; pushing a few holographic options, the Portal opened-and-closed to Hawaii, Mars, Agrabah… and someone's shower where a guy in a shower-cap was covered in soap. "La dee da- AUGH!" the man shrieked and Tracker quickly closed the portal.
"Um… we got portal-makers already, so… nah." She said awkwardly, inching away from the portal.
Fanatic came across the Way-Bak (donated by Mister Peabody), and hopped in...
…returning to the point where he first spotted the Way-Bak. "Don't bother, it won't be used." He told his past-self.
"Okay," he told his future-self, and kept walking (his future-self disappeared with a *Pop!*). "We've got a TARDIS on-hand anyway,"
ATF was walking by a dormant Dalek, the Bat Mobile, and HAL-2000, shaking his head. "Already been used, already been used, the reference is old and cliché…" he was muttering to each one, then looked up at a giant robot… with a car for a head. "YES!"
He scurried to the top, ready to test-drive Megas… until the car-alarm went off, lights flashing and horns going off. "HEY! Get outta my ride, you twerp!" came a shout from the owner, Coop, who was conveniently looking for parts in the same warehouse with Jamie and Kiva.
"Sorry!" ATF said, quickly climbing out and running.
Finding nothing, the trio of Authors exited the warehouse. "We might as well go home," Tracker sighed. "There's nothing here we can afford-"
"Hey look! A plot device!" Fanatic exclaimed, pointing ahead.
Across the grounds, surrounded by an electric dome-fence, covered in warning/hazard signs, and looking as if it hasn't been entered in years, was an old laboratory.
"Off-Limits? Private? Caution? Do Not Enter?" ATF questioned, reading several of the signs attached to the fence. He turned to the others. "Yep! Sounds like a plot-setup to me!"
"Guys, I don't know. If it's been closed off, they obviously don't want anyone to go in there." Tracker said with caution.
"And that's why we never know what the government is spending our tax-dollars on. It's an ABANDONED LAB, Tracker! The worst that can happen is we'll get radiation-poisoning or blow up!" Fanatic said.
"To the norms, that would be deadly, but to cartoony-individuals like us- meh." ATF added, opening a portal to the other side of the fence.
Tracker sighed, but followed them through. "We'd better not get in trouble- otherwise I'll be cleaning toilets at the pizzeria for a month..."
"That doesn't sound so bad," Fanatic said.
"I'll use you both as scrub-brushes!"
"Avoid trouble. Gotcha." ATF said with a flinch.
They walked over to the door, trying to open it… although after just grabbing the handle the whole thing fell inside, the handle still in Fanatic's grasp. "Sheesh. Talk about your shoddy housekeeping," he said as they peered in, seeing a large room filled with boxes, cobwebs, and dust.
"Ah… Ah… Ah…" ATF breathed, preparing to sneeze.
"ATCHOOOO!" Tracker sneezed, blowing all the dust and cobwebs off! "*sniffle* Ugh. Darn allergies…"
They looked in the boxes… finding only a few gears, wires, bolts, and screws stored away- and that's if they were lucky to find anything at all, as most of the boxes were empty. "Weird. Why would they just keep empty boxes stored in here?" Fanatic wondered. "…Unless this was where Calvin and Hobbes got their stuff, I don't see how any of this could be grounds for a shut-down."
"Maybe they were robbed, and this lab lost its funding?" Tracker guessed, looking into another box, only finding a moth flittering out.
"Dang it! If you're going to have warning signs all over, at least give us something to be warned about!" ATF snapped, kicking a tall stack of empty boxes, making them topple over... and reveal a hidden door with a hazard-sign on it! Although, he didn't notice. "I mean, it could have been a dormant experiment kept underwraps-"
"Anti," Tracker gasped, seeing the door.
"Or some complicated formula explaining the mysteries of the universe-"
"Anti." Fanatic deadpanned, also seeing the door.
"Or Tupac in a cryogenic sleep, but all we get are a bunch of empty-!"
"ANTI!" Tracker and Fanatic both hollered, pointing at the door.
"What?" ATF turned around. "…Oh, hey! I found a door!"
Tracker and Fanatic face-palmed. "Anti. Tell me. How many brain-cells did you lose from alcohol-consumption?"
"At least 587, but with my immortality they regenerated. Why?"
"Never mind. Let's just see what's behind the door and get out," Tracker muttered, and pried it open, revealing a long staircase going downward.
As they descended, a figure entered the doorway; out a dusty window, we see they made a large hole in the fence. Beyond his sunglasses red eyes glowed, as he followed our heroes.
…
At the bottom of the staircase was only darkness. "I can't see a thing. Tracker, can your wolf-vision pick up anything?" Fanatic asked.
"Yeah, I see a light-switch- hopefully this place still has power," Tracker replied, flicking on the switch.
Thankfully there was still some power to the place, as the lights shot on… revealing a vast underground laboratory filled with machines, some complete, some half-done, others were nothing but exoskeletons; blueprints were littered here and there, and old computer screens showed pop-up files of the prototypes of technology, some seen today.
"So this was where they came up with the iPhone," Tracker said, looking at some blueprints.
"Dude! A giant laser! We've GOT to have it!" ATF exclaimed, pointing at a giant laser off to the side.
"We don't need a giant laser, Anti- your sister already has laser-vision." Fanatic replied.
"Pleeeeeaaaaase?! Every epic show has to have at least ONE giant-laser involved!"
"Hey, guys, look at this!" Tracker gasped, looking at some details on the screen. "Does that look familiar?"
Fanatic observed the screen; it was a detailed 3D model of a large robot that was all-too familiar with him. "Tempus?"
"That's the giant bot that wants you dead, right? …Wait, he was BUILT here?" ATF gasped.
"No, it's just a study, listing his maximum strength and height, and use- Use?" Fanatic tried to click on the hyperlink under 'Uses'… but only got a blue-screen. "Of course. They ALWAYS have to keep something secret."
"Look at this screen. It's about other dimensions, and rifts!" Tracker said, typing at another computer. "Check it out! There's that dimension where we're all Time Lords! And another where the guys are girls and vice-versa!"
"Whoa, Fan, I love those jeans your wearing in that dimension!" ATF commented. He got elbowed by Fanatic. "Ow! Geez, it was a compliment! …Hey, what's that one?"
Tracker clicked on the screen… showing the city in ruins, blood-stains all over, dead bodies everywhere... and a bunch of figures savagely attacking any who were alive, including each other. However it was so dark that they couldn't see who it was.
"Lets… avoid that dimension." Fanatic said, turning off the screen. "Oh, hey, a dimension where we're all kitties!"
"Awwww!" Tracker and ATF exclaimed.
While they were staring at the screen, however, they didn't notice their stalker enter the hidden lab. Smirking, he lunged right at Fanatic-
ATF opened a portal between them, making the attacker land in front of the laser instead! Upon hitting it, the machine turned on and zapped their enemy! "Nice try, Hater! I could see you coming from last week!" the psychic scoffed.
"You son of a-!" Hater snarled, charging at them.
"*sigh* Can't even go on an errand run without fighting this guy," Fanatic commented, then charged at Hater, both of them getting into a fight.
"He's right- let's get this over with quick, so we can get back to finishing the Security Authors movie," ATF said, as he searched the lab for any useful weapons.
Tracker turned into her full animatronic-wolf form and lunged, joining the fight against Hater. She tore at his back and tried to pry his head off, but he turned one of his hands into a blade and sliced at her; of course while he was doing that, Fanatic took out his light-saber and slashed at the robot, who countered via firing at him with his arm-cannon; Tracker whipped out her shotgun and shot him, although the bullets didn't do enough damage.
Hater ended up grabbing Fanatic and throwing him at Tracker, then body-slammed them both, and they all ended up in a three-way wrestling match, a cloud of dust erupting all around them! ATF in the meantime kept searching, coming across another door- only it was sealed shut.
As he searched for a way to open it… well, the others accidentally helped when the dust-cloud careened in front of him, slamming him into the wall, the impact hard enough to crash through the door! "Ow/Ouch/Damn/My spine…" everyone groaned.
"Ooh, hey, what's that?" ATF said, standing up and rushing across the new room.
Fanatic and Tracker stood up, Hater getting back on his feet. "Enough games!" he snarled, taking aim with his cannon-
"Hold that thought!" ATF opened another portal, this time underneath Hater!
The robot fell… landing underneath the laser and getting zapped. Again. Growling, he ran and charged back into the room- only to run through another portal and once again land beneath the laser! "Dammit!"
"Whoa… check these out!" Fanatic said, looking at a line of chambers, all having different robots inside of them! He went down the row, reading each label:
MOD. 5K-211-00: Dysfunctional. Within was a robot missing a head, its body looking like the stereotypical, all-metal robot.
MOD. 67-M92-33: Dysfunctional. This robot looked like the last one, but with a head. However the metal plates were off, showing it was missing a few parts.
MOD. 55-ST-555: REALLY DYSFUNCTIONAL. Inside was a robot, this time with some fabricated coating over the metal… though looked like one messed-up golden bunny. ("Seriously?" Tracker commented).
MOD. H-8R-79: DATA INACCESSIBLE. This chamber was empty.
They looked down the wall, seeing hundreds of incomplete, dysfunctional droids. "I'm going to go out on a limb here and say one of these robots went crazy and that's why this lab was shut down." ATF guessed. …and opened another portal as Hater tried to sneak up on them again, this time making the robot crash into a pile of boxes upstairs.
Tracker walked down the line, and paused. "Maybe not all of them. Look at this one!" she gasped.
Within a chamber was a bot, this one looking closer to human; It had fair skin, blonde hair, and appeared to have a masculine build. Its eyes were black, showing that it was in a dormant state.
MOD. PR-0-XY: CurrentlyInactive.
"It looks… kinda like…" Fanatic began to note.
Hater stormed back in. ATF tried to open another portal, but this time the robot dodged it. "That's it, you idiots are going-!" he began to snarl.
"Hey, Hater, why didn't you tell us you had a brother?" ATF asked.
Hater paused. "What?" He looked at the robot they were looking at. "…Oh! So you think just because some robot looks human like I do, we must be related?! What's next, you're going to think Aigis is my sister?!"
"Don't be ridiculous. …She's too hot to be your sister,"
"Why you little-!" Hater charged at ATF… who opened a portal when he was an inch away and made him land inside one of the empty chambers. …It was sound proof, but from the way he was shouting, it was clear he was using language that would boost this story to an 'M' rating.
While their enemy was trying to bust out of the chamber, everyone looked around the lab. "Hey, a journal! …why do scientists always leave journals lying about in abandoned labs?" Tracker asked.
"So protagonists like us can get some insight." Fanatic said.
Tracker shrugged, then read the journal. "It's about these robots! …They were built for an experiment for something called 'Project: Daedalus'."
"Should we even bother asking how the project went?" Fanatic asked. (Behind them, ATF was snacking on popcorn while watching Hater try to break out the chamber with lasers, sawblades, and even his own head).
Tracker turned a few pages. "Here we go… 'Date: 12/15/1999'; After so many failed attempts, we finally managed to create the perfect model to help protect Matt. With his exceptional abilities, as well as his vast creativity, he needs only the best to protect him from…' (ugh, it smudged, I hate that!) *ahem* 'Learning there are more children with fascinating abilities out there who may need equal protection, we started work on another robot, programming him to protect any child with the characteristics we've discovered with Matt- most notably how the stories he creates come to life. It seems as if he may be a prodigy of some sort- in any case, his new bodyguard will protect him from anyone who wishes to exploit his powers for evil, same for any other child with these traits.'"
"Who's Matt?" ATF asked.
Fanatic rubbed his head. "No idea," he said, then whipped out a container of ice-cream, eating it. "Anyone else getting hungry?"
"There's more…" Tracker said, then continued to read. "01/25/2000: Project Daedalus has been shut down. Something happened with the robot- rather than trying to protect Matt, he instead tried to destroy him! We managed to send him away where no one can find him… until the monster we've created can be stopped, the rest of the family will never see him again. To make sure no one finds him, we've destroyed all records on him and the robot; even in this journal I made sure there would be no clues to his whereabouts. We are abandoning this lab… for anyone who finds this journal, now you know the reason of our failure.' –Doctor James Possible.'"
"Possible? As in the dad of Kim Possible?" ATF exclaimed. "Gosh, they never mentioned knowing a kid named 'Matt' on the show… did they?"
"I don't think- OW!" Fanatic gripped his head. "Ow… headache…! Ouch!"
"You okay, bro?" Tracker asked him.
"Too… much… ice-cream…!"
Tracker walked with Fanatic, helping him get over his migraine. ATF looked back over at the chamber where Hater was held…
Finding plasma had melted the glass. "Uh oh-" he began to say.
*CRASH!*
Hater jumped him, slamming him into the wall, his palm leaking plasma. "I'll handle Fanatic AFTER I melt your face off!" he snarled.
"Wait! I have a question!" ATF exclaimed. "…How come that plasma melts anything else, but never melts your hand when it's dripping out?"
Hater paused… then waved his hand. "Ow! Ouch! Ooh! Dammit!" he then growled, standing up and gripping ATF by the throat. "Fine! I'll just snap your neck!"
*beep*
"Online. Target sighted. Objective: Protect child."
"What the-" Hater turned his head…
*POW!*
…Just in time for a fist to crash through the chamber, socking him in the jaw. The dormant robot was now active, its eyes lighting up- its irises were yellow, though its whites remained black. It broke out of the chamber, and tackled Hater!
"Cool! Bot fight!" ATF exclaimed.
Tracker and Fanatic rushed over. "Geez! We turn our backs for a minute, and look what happens!" Tracker snapped.
"Who's the new bot?" Fanatic asked.
"I don't know… but his design looks really familiar," ATF said, watching as the new bot's palms lit up, and fire shot out to incinerate Hater! "Really familiar…"
~Mini Flashback!~
James Possible was looking at the robot model with a fellow scientist, rubbing his chin. "Doctor Otaku, why does this robot have different features than the last one?" he asked.
"Well, Doctor Possible, I figured- in order to keep better track of our subjects- we give them alternate appearances. If we created them all to look the same, it could lead to confusion- we wouldn't know a prototype from a final project." Professor Otaku answered.
"I see… but why do his eyes look like that?"
"I believe it would help strike fear into any enemies that come near."
James gave him a look. "…You've been watching One-Punch Man again, haven't you?"
Professor Otaku slumped. "Genos looked so cool, though…!"
His colleague only slapped his forehead.
~End of Flashback~
ATF shrugged. "Oh well. Makes him look cooler,"
"Yeah… except now THE LAB IS ON FIRE!" Tracker shouted.
"And the ceiling is caving in!" Fanatic added. "…why does this always happen when we go browsing for new stuff?"
"Everyone out! ATF, portal!"
"But… that robot…!" ATF said, concerned as he watched the bot-fight.
"We can salvage his parts and have him rebuilt! C'mon!" Fanatic called.
ATF groaned but opened a portal, leading them outside the burning lab.
Hater punched the new bot, sending it flying back into the other room. When he prepared to shoot his arm-cannons, the new-bot shot its arms out, gripping the cannons and crushing them; it then flung Hater overhead, making him once again crash into the laser!
He flinched, preparing to be zapped again. A *beep beep beep!* noise caught his attention. The machine was low on power and couldn't fire! "HA!" he exclaimed, kicking the machine…
…and the screen lit up, the words "SELF-DESTRUCT" flashing.
Hater cringed. "Oh, sh-"
*BOOM!*
Outside, a large mushroom cloud appeared where the lab used to be. Fanatic, Tracker, and ATF watched while wearing sunglasses and roasting marshmallows… which instantly melted. "Confound it."
It was no surprise that security came on the scene…
…and the Authors were kicked out for destruction of property. "But it was an accident…!" ATF exclaimed.
"Yeah. We 'accidentally' entered a quarantined lab and 'accidentally' got stalked by a killer robot," Tracker scoffed as they walked off.
"…please don't clean toilets with our heads…" Fanatic squeaked.
Tracker sighed. "C'mon, lets just leave… if we did find anything useful, it probably burst into flames."
"Yeah…" Fanatic then held up a flier. "But we'll have another chance tomorrow! Doofenschmirtz is having a garage sale!"
"I hope he's selling the Inator!" ATF said.
Tracker turned to give a sharp retort, but paused. "Hold it, we're being followed." She said, turning around.
Following them was the new robot. His armor was singed, his hair was a mess, and part of its face were dented or torn… but it stood there as if it were no big deal. "Oh! It's you. Um, thanks for the save back there… sorry for the damage," ATF said, rubbing the back of his neck.
"You did not damage me. My damages can easily be tended," the robot said; its face shifted, as if healing itself! "The scientists who created me gave me regenerative qualities, so that no matter what damage I take, I can fix myself."
"Cool! I can to the same thing!" ATF said; as if to prove his point, he took out a knife and cut himself. Immediately the cut healed. "See?"
*Zap!*
The robot zapped the knife, then examined ATF's arm. "Analysis: Subject is unharmed. Vital signs normal. Threat eliminated."
"Um… mind telling us why you're so defensive of my little bro?" Tracker asked the robot.
"It is my objective to protect any child with special characteristics. From now on, I shall protect him from any threat."
"(I'm pretty sure he already has a guardian angel for that,)" Fanatic whispered to Tracker.
"It's fine. It's nice to make a new friend." ATF said, a tiny heart appearing over his head as he looked at the bot. "So! What shall we call you?"
"I am model PR-0-XY," the robot answered. "Male-based, built 18 years ago, I am your sworn protector."
"…Mind if I call you 'Proxy'?"
"I do not see the quandary of a new title."
"Awesome! C'mon, I'll show you where my apartment is!" ATF grabbed Proxy by the hand, leading him off. "It'll be great! I have a spare bedroom you can stay in, otherwise I can order bunkbeds- hey, you don't mind animals, do you…?"
Tracker and Fanatic watched him go. "…Will his sister let him keep a robot?" Fanatic asked.
"She let him keep a snake," Tracker answered with a shrug.
…
…
…
Back at the ruins of the lab, once the fire department had left, the rubble began to shift… and Hater burst out. "Those Authors… are SO going to die next season…" he growled, climbing out.
His sleeves were torn, and as he walked off we got a view of a mark underneath his arm.
Mod. H-8R-79.
The End…?