Boy, this is awkward. How long's it been, ? Two months? Three, even? Sorry about my absence, but I've had a lot on my plate lately. No need to get into specifics. During this "time off," however, I did discover a rich (and exploitable) cartoon series known as Loonatics Unleashed. I was compelled to research further into the series and the fanfictions it has spawned since its release. *Time is short, so I must rush with this intro* Bottom line: I love Loonatics now, and am excited to present my first fic dealing with the franchise. Enjoy.
Heroes Aren't Forgotten
Chapter 1 – Aftermath
Acmetropolis had seen its fair share of devastation, but never had it suffered so greatly as last night.
When the sun fell, so did this city.
But that was then, and this is now.
Tech E. Coyote walked slowly through what was once the city's main residential district, once a monumental testament to the power of man, now reduced to nothing but a crumbling mass of glass, concrete and steel.
The steel was the worst part, twisted upward by what looked to have been nothing less than fits of pure agony, rusty thin fingers and hands reaching up to the sky, as if begging for some form of vindication.
Or release.
The green canine's eyes were closed, and yet he walked forwards still, his bruised and dusty face slightly frowning.
He stopped and opened his eyes, taking in the full breadth of the ruin.
No buildings stood, save for a few, hollowly in the distance, the morning sun behind them turning their already sad forms into macabre silhouettes.
It was a horizon of skeletons.
"Nothing but debris for miles."
Tech looked up.
The beautiful orange sky seemed to taunt the lone canine, its magnificence making the earth below it seem that much more impossible to bear.
Tech looked down.
His left boot was caked with dried mud and glittered with a glassy dust. His right foot, without any form of boot, was cut and bloody, the reddish-brown substance beginning to clot between the toes of his paw. Bare to just below his knee, the uncovered limb made him feel naked.
A nearby rag, brown and dusty.
A perfect bandage.
Scavenging like this felt dirty and primitive, but he knew he had no other choice. When Mastermind detonated the EMP that would begin last night's chaos, nearly all technology was rendered useless.
All of his technology.
Bending over to wrap his leg in the makeshift legging, he saw the sleeves of his uniform, the right one cut halfway between his shoulder and elbow, the loose fabric beginning to bunch up against his gauntlet.
His other sleeve was caked with blood.
Then again, his whole uniform was caked with blood, some from others, some of his own, most from wounds still bleeding.
He knew he'd have to stop and rest soon, and it angered him.
Tech E. Coyote was on a search mission, a mission more important to him than any other before it.
When the team split up last night, it was Ace who had planned this morning's regroup.
There were six last night, and only five this morning.
For thirty minutes they sat. With every passing minute Tech seemed to age a year.
Tech remembered that it was Ace who finally called it.
"Every second we wait here is one more second the few survivors out there loose. We need ta' split up again and provide aid where we can."
Tech remembered everyone beginning to shuffle, to slowly and solemnly rise to face their leader.
Ace spat orders to the team, but none of it registered in Tech's ears.
He remembered Ace coming over to him, where he sat staring at the blood-puddled ground beneath him.
"I has a spe-sheel assignment for you."
It was then that Ace began to spew out some "spe-sheel" speech, about how heroes aren't forgotten, and the worst part was that it sounded planned, the bastard!
He had worked hard on that speech, but only five words registered in the coyote's mind:
…heroes aren't forgotten; Find Rev.