The Awakened

An Amazing World of Gumball Story

By NeoNimbus

Chapter 21-The Reveal

Brian and the gang remained where they stood, still staring at Mr. Robinson with utter disbelief. Even though they were careful to avoid drawing any suspicion from almost everyone, Mr. Robinson had somehow known who and what they were on the spot. After what felt like eons, Brian finally broke the silence, if only because no one else in the group would say anything.

"Who saw this one coming?"

"He did," Mike nonchalantly replied, pointing his finger at Mr. Robinson.

"Look, I know what every one of you is thinking, so I'll cut to the chase..." Mr. Robinson began. "I won't tell anyone else that you have tattoos that can grant you super powers nor will I let everyone else know you are the town's do-gooders."

"As much as I want to believe you, why should we trust you?" Anais asked him, a sentiment that was mutually shared from her friends. Mr. Robinson could only sigh and slowly walked up to the gang, before he stopped in his tracks for all of them to get a good view of him.

"Here, let me show you," Mr. Robinson then pulled down the collar enough to show them something that none of them ever expected; on his neck was a number 100 that was etched white, leaving a slight glow. The sight was enough to leave the gang speechless once more, until Darwin finally spoke.

"...Y-You're a Number?!"

"That's right, kid. But I'm not just a Number, I'm the Number Chronicler," Mr. Robinson replied.

"The Number what?" asked a confused Gumball.

"Look, I'll explain everything, but not here. Just drop by at my house tomorrow afternoon and I'll spill the beans," Mr. Robinson instructed. "Now, if you don't mind, my wife is probably wondering where I am and I'm sure you kids need to head back home right now."

Once he was finished with his words, Mr. Robinson turned around and headed back home, while Brian and his friends looked at one another. Tonight turned out to be one too many surprises for all of them to comprehend and as much as they wanted to know more, they all agreed to head back home and call it for the night.

It was Saturday at the town of Elmore, where most would just chill out and relax until school comes around the corner on Monday; but for Brian, he didn't have the time for all of that. Just as Mr. Robinson had insisted, he dropped by at his house, where he spotted his friends waiting at the front door, all looking anxious and nervous, no doubt wondering what Mr. Robinson had to say.

'Can't say I blame them for acting this way,' Brian thought, as he finally approached the front porch. 'After what happened last night, we all want some answers.'

"Hey Brian," both Gumball and Darwin greeted their friend, trying to sound so cheerful. "How's your day going?"

"Guys, it's alright to be afraid," Brian called out on their acts. "I'm just as nervous as you are and I'm sure whatever's going to happen, it might turn out well in the end."

"Or it could leave us with more questions than answers," Carrie countered.

"Regardless, we're here, just as Mr. Robinson had told us," said Rhonda.

"But where is he?" asked Penny. "He should have showed up by now."

As if to answer her question, the front door slightly opened, garnering the gang's attention, as they turned to see the grouchy old neighbor himself.

"Good, you're here and don't worry, Margaret is out doing some errands," he assured them. "Please, come in and make yourselves at home."

"Since when he has been this nice?" a dumbfounded Brian quietly asked Mike.

"I don't think he had even been this nice at all," Mike whispered back.

"Did you two say something?" Mr. Robinson asked suspiciously.

"Nope!" both Brian and Mike replied with a straight face, before they and their friends went inside the Robinson residence.

The Robinson residence hadn't changed that much during the last three years, with pretty much everything left the way they were, including the furniture; though the gang knew they didn't come here for comfort. They all sat down in the living room, with Mr. Robinson sitting down on an armchair, as he took a deep breath and began to speak.

"So you eight are all wondering how I know you're superheroes and the powers that came with it."

"That's why we're here," Anais reminded him. "And if I recall, you mentioned that you were a Number Chronicler after you showed us your number."

"How does that tie in to your knowledge of us?" Brian asked him.

"Let me explain everything from day one, provided that I won't get interrupted…" Mr. Robinson began, before he narrowed his eyes at a certain blue cat and fish. Gumball and Darwin nervously nodded their heads, showing they understood him. Likewise, the rest of the gang nodded their heads as well, assuring Mr. Robinson that they will listen. Satisfied by this, he took a deep breath once more, ready to give his explanation.

"It all began a long time ago..."

Several years ago…

It was a peaceful night in Elmore, as Mr. Gaylord Robinson was just coming back from a grueling job. He could feel the wind breezing through his full set of red hair, but he brushed off the cold, hoping to get home and get some sleep before it was back to work again tomorrow.

'Might as well make the most of it until that happens,' Mr. Robinson thought to himself. After heading to the bathroom to freshen himself up, he made his way to his bedroom, where his beautiful wife was already sleeping peacefully.

"You know, you look so peaceful sometimes," Mr. Robinson quietly said.

Just then, Margaret's leg suddenly jerked into Mr. Robinson's direction, kicking him in the shin, as he winced in pain and agony.

'On second thought, never mind!' after the pain went away, Mr. Robinson went to his side of the bed and went to sleep, but not before he felt what appeared to be a burning sensation on his neck, only to ignore it seconds later, thinking it might just be his old muscles flaring up.

The next day, Mr. Robinson woke up with a sour demeanor, still irked that his wife kicked him in the shin last night. Whether it was by instinct or reflex, he didn't bother looking for an answer and just wanted to start the morning well, as he groggily made his way to the bathroom.

'Note to self: be on guard when the missus makes her move.'

Once he arrived at the bathroom, Mr. Robinson poured some mouthwash into a glass, intending to rinse his mouth before brushing his teeth. But as he poured some into his mouth, he noticed what looked like a white number 100, etched onto his neck for him to see, as he spat out the mouthwash in surprise.

"What the hell?!" he then touched the number on his neck, but to his astonishment, it felt no different from his body. It was as if the number had become a part of him.

"Who the hell did this?!" Mr. Robinson shouted to no one in particular, as he felt his anger boiling inside of him. "When I get my hands on the punk who did this, I'll-"

But Mr. Robinson didn't finish his sentence, as he suddenly felt a strange sensation that he never felt before. It was the most painful headache he had ever experienced, but just as suddenly as it appeared, it mysteriously disappeared.

"What was that just now?!" Mr. Robinson didn't know what to make of this and he was started to become afraid of this new sensation. But just then, Margaret popped out of nowhere, looking at her husband with a mixture of irritation and concern, before she mumbled as usual.

"Yes, Margaret, everything is fine. I just…didn't brush my teeth," Mr. Robinson lied, not that his wife cared much about it.

For her part, Margaret gave an annoyed look at her husband, before she rolled her eyes and pulled her head back, presumably getting herself ready for the day as well.

"That was a close one," Mr. Robinson let out a sigh, before he regained his composure. "First things first, I need this tattoo removed right away. I don't want Margaret to get the wrong idea."

Mr. Robinson then decided to just pretend like it was any other day, before planning to drop by at the local tattoo parlor to fix this unexpected mistake.

Many hours later…

Mr. Robinson had the worst luck, as he drove back to his house with utter disappointment. As if waking up with a tattoo wasn't bad enough, the tattoo artist from the tattoo parlor did more harm than help in removing the tattoo from his neck. After he showed it to the artist, he expected him to finish the job as quickly as possible; instead, it felt like forever as the tattoo artist tried, to no avail, to remove the number tattoo on his neck. Eventually, the pain was just too much for Mr. Robinson to handle and angrily left the parlor.

Things were much worse at work, when he arrived much later than he was supposed to. His boss didn't want to hear any excuses and not only doubled his working hours; he even cut his salary as well as punishment. By the time he had finished his tasks, it was way past midnight and all he wanted to do was just forget the whole experience.

"What an asshole!" Mr. Robinson furiously exclaimed, as he finally approached the driveway, left his vehicle and went right to the front door. "I've been working with him for all these years and this is the thanks I get?!"

Not wanting to think too much of his bad experience, Mr. Robinson let himself in his home, but he didn't feel like going to bed, especially after what Margaret did the night before; he also didn't want her to have the last laugh either.

"Alright, calm yourself…" Mr. Robinson began. "Just take your mind off from that awful experience and focus on something else."

He looked all over the living room, trying to find something that could make up most of his lousy day; eventually, he noticed a large book and a pencil perched on a nearby coffee table and for some reason, he felt drawn to it.

"Why not? It's not like I have anything better to do," he shrugged his shoulders without a care, as he picked the items up and began writing. He had no idea of what was about to transpire.

Several years had passed and by now, Mr. Robinson had found himself in the living room, writing from the same book that seemed to never run out of pages and aside from dealing with one big headache the whole time, he found himself entrenched writing every single detail, as if life was playing out right in front of him. His job had been informed to him by a group called the Numbers: to chronicle everything that came to him during his headaches that were really him just picking up information. He didn't know what to make of all of this; it somehow felt natural to him and he enjoyed every moment of it. He had found something to relieve himself from an otherwise stressful day. Though a lot of it was hard to swallow, he just kept writing out scripture that spoke of the Numbers, their strange powers, and an eternal war.

Margaret, however, had mixed emotions regarding her husband's sudden interest in writing; while she should be a bit happy that Mr. Robinson wasn't as stressed out as he once was, she was also quite worried for his well-being. Ever since he started writing, it was the only thing he seemed to care about, despite her husband's insistence that it was only to vent his anger out, to which Margaret was reluctant to accept and let her husband be with his writing.

Just recently, Margaret found him writing once again. What it was she didn't care nor was it her business. Whatever her husband wrote, it was his and his alone, as Margaret sighed in annoyance and just minded her own business, to her husband's annoyance.

'I don't see what the big deal is about...' Mr. Robinson thought. 'The written words aren't designed to inflict pain, though I have to admit, it has been strange that I'm writing these like they were nothing for so many years.'

Realizing this, he put his pencil down and stared at the book, examining what he just wrote, examining the first page up to the recent page; almost all of them detailed of at least 99 heroes, each with unique powers, apparently powered up by tattoos on their bodies and taking down bad guys on an almost daily basis. Arching an eyebrow in curiosity, he pulled out the very first book from a nearby drawer and examined its full content; sure enough, there were similar descriptions of 99 heroes and tattoos on their bodies.

It seemed quite farfetched, even outrageous, but he couldn't help but be suspicious. It was somewhat similar to what he wrote several years back, but at the time, he dismissed it as a work of fiction that he just thought of. But after seeing the similarities with both notepads, he had to wonder: what was going on?

Then, as if fate had heard his answer, the latest news from the television was on, talking about the most recent events in the last few weeks.

"This is Mark Call reporting live from yet another bizarre incident. After a few days of relative peace, the town was attacked yet again by another mad man. Fortunately, he was taken out thanks to the Amazing Eight. Since their arrival, they have managed to do the impossible. Today was no exception, as witnesses claimed to have seen them wielding weapons for the very first time..."

Mr. Robinson looked at the television, his eyes widening in shock, as he focused his gaze on the tube, listening to what the reporter was saying. But as he continued to listen on, it was then that a photograph was produced for all the viewers to see from home, himself included. On the photograph were eight people, dressed up in costumes and have numbers on their bodies. But what really shocked him the most was that he recognized their faces almost instantly.

"Well I'll be damned…" was all Mr. Robinson had to say, too speechless to realize that all this time, what he was writing had already took place.

Present…

"...And after that, I decided that I had to confront you kids at some point to share my knowledge and you can guess the rest from that part."

Once Mr. Robinson was done with his story, Brian and his friends remained where they seated, all astonished that someone like him not only became a Number from that fateful night, but that he was able to know who they were and what they had been up to for almost a month.

"Wow, that is some story," Gumball spoke.

"No kidding," Brian agreed. "I can't believe that we've been tracked down simply through the written word."

"Well, that's basically what the Number Chronicler does," Mr. Robinson explained. "Whenever one of the Numbers takes action, I ended up writing them down with great accuracy every aspect of it. What powers that number has, what abilities, how they use it, etcetera, etcetera. Hell, I could write a novel about you kids alone these days."

"Yeah, I'm not so sure that's a great idea," Mike disagreed.

"Anyway, now that I told you everything, do you kids still doubt me after all of that?"

"...Considering what we've been through, I think it's safe to say that we can trust you with our secrets," Rhonda eventually answered on behalf of her friends, which seemed to satisfy Mr. Robinson.

"I'm glad to hear that. Now that we got that all covered...GET OUT OF MY HOUSE THIS INSTANT!"

Brian and his friends were taken aback from Mr. Robinson's sudden change in tone, before the latter offered his reason for said change.

"My wife is going to show up any minute now and she'll be suspicious, so the least thing you can do is try to pretend to run."

"Oh, yeah. That's right. Gotcha, Mr. Robinson," Gumball, as well as everyone else, nodded in agreement, before they quickly dashed out of the front door, trying to give their best frantic expression, just as Margaret finally pulled up to the driveway, barely catching a glimpse of one of the kids. After a moment of staring, she shrugged her shoulders and walked right into her house to see Mr. Robinson relaxing on an armchair, without the book or a pencil for a change.

"Hello Margaret, how was your day?" he casually greeted his wife.

Margaret, as usual, mumbled in response, to which Mr. Robinson just nodded his head in agreement, before she walked out of sight, allowing Mr. Robinson to pull out a notepad and pencil out of his pocket.

"Looks like I'll have to start where I left off," Mr. Robinson said to himself, before he began to write down the latest course of action Brian and his friends were about to take.

Next time on The Awakened…

Chapter 22-The Swordsman

Brian begins to suspect that Zack, the high school gym teacher, is not who he seems to be and tries to figure out his real motives.

Tidbits

-From the beginning, Mr. Robinson was intended to play a major role in the story, but Sal and I wanted this to be a surprise for everyone.

-Even though there were no OverHundreds for this chapter, this was still important nevertheless.

I hope everyone enjoyed The Reveal and I'll be seeing ya next chapter!