Episode 23: The Day the Moon Fell
Of all the crooks the Robot International Police had yet to catch, two held the record for remained at the top of their wanted list the longest.
Shadow Man had dusky twilight blue armor, which made him appear to fade into even the smallest patch of shade. A four-sided ninja star adorned his helmet. His movements were quick and soundless as a phantom, yet when he talked, his voice was a deep boisterous baritone, and it was difficult to get him to shut up.
The Sniper had a crackly voice that sounded like a human talking through a walky-talky. A single red optic roved across the chevron-shaped visor of his biker-style helmet. His forest green armor was criss crossed with plasma scorches and a heavy blaster was crudely welded to the end of his left arm, the overall effect intimidating.
Both robots had an international reputation of being master criminals, each had carefully guarded his name and identity from the authorities, and each had a mysterious past. Having so much in common, they had been naturally drawn to each other throughout the years.
They were gathered at a small tropical island off the cost of Mexico, one of Shadow Man's favorite hideouts. Though beautiful, the island was surrounded by ring of buoys with danger signs, for the island was the protected habitat for a rare species of noxious purple flowers, making it impossible to approach by humans who didn't want to die a horrible, painful death.
"The Robot International Police is on my back," the Sniper told Shadow Man, his fist curling in agitation. "They've made it impossible for me to get any work. They almost cornered me in La Paz, luckily I had a tip off and got out in the nick of time, but R.I.P. keeps getting closer. I never feel safe."
"Might be nice to lie low in America for awhile," Shadow Man suggested. "That's where I'm going next. I've robbed so much of the world that I'm running out of things to steal." He flopped backward onto the warm sand and sighed contentedly. "You should come with me. Without R.I.P., America is a playground for criminal robots like us."
The Sniper shook his head. "I never wanted to return state side. That's where my creators are. One was a psychopath who kept plotting out loud to himself behind the other's back, the other was completely clueless that this was always going on, can't tell you which one was worse…"
"It takes a mature robot to realize they are better off rogue," Shadow Man nodded sagely. He had a hand stretched in front of him, a Shadow Blade balanced delicately on his finger. "I always recommended it. Rogue robots have more fun! Though those humans would both be very proud if they knew you became the world's most wanted robot mercenary."
"You know I'm a fraud," the Sniper responded moodily, sitting down on the sand next to Shadow Man with his hands on his knees. "It's easy when you pick stupid clients, take bribes from their would-be-targets, then get paid twice for same job by faking an assassination. But my reputation has backfired on me, and now I have a major problem. Have you heard of the Syndicate?"
"The Syndicate?" Shadow Man snorted, eyes dancing. He flicked the Shadow Blade behind him, which landed squarely in the middle of a target (a rather rude caricature of Enker painted on a boulder). "What criminal hasn't! What, do they want to recruit you?"
"Worse." The Sniper tossed a seashell into the ocean. "They want to hire me for some hits."
Shadow Man sat up. "What? Impossible!"
The Sniper just shrugged. "They had a list. Anthony Fisher, Irene Wolfe, Fred Sable, Betty Martin, Mitchell Deacon—"
"What kind of names are these?" laughed Shadow Man.
"They're all politicians," replied the Sniper, not finding anything funny about this at all. "I don't think the Syndicate will let me reside in America peacefully unless I do it. For some reason they wanted someone like me specifically, and I don't think I can trick them. Not with such high profile targets. Between them and R.I.P., I'm running out of places to lie low."
The Sniper looked quite miserable, his head bowed. Shadow Man, meanwhile, was intrigued.
"Why not do the hits themselves?" Shadow Man puzzled aloud. In one fluid motion he leaped to his feet and began to pace, walking across the surface of a tide pool as though it were made of glass. "They have their own robots, and the resources for coverups! I know what's-his-face is behind the Syndicate, but this doesn't sound like him…Who gave you this list?" he demanded finally, coming to a halt in front of the Sniper.
The Sniper's red optic flickered up toward Shadow Man. "Some guy named 'Mr. Flint'. He contacted me a year ago during Dr. Wily's siege of the Lunar Base. Said he was acting on behalf of some big shot in Washington who wants me to take care of political nuisances."
A small smirk crept upon Shadow Man's face. "Ahhh-haaa."
"What?"
"It's all coming together. Are you still in touch with this so-called 'Mr. Flint'?"
"Yes, but what are you getting at?"
"You are not the only one with contacts within the Syndicate!" Shadow Man dashed over to the boulder to retrieve his Shadow Blade, briefly booping the caricature on the nose. "Leave it to me, we are to get our fattest payout yet!"
Though Brain Bot's trip had not gone at all according to plan, Dr. Wily had unwittingly given Mega Man and Roll a distinct key advantage against himself: Mega Man now knew the location of Skull Fortress.
Roll (of course) wanted to storm the place as soon as possible. Dr. Light, worried about their safety, thought it more sensible to keep their distance. Mega Man was torn. The thought of confronting Dr. Wily and Proto Man on their home base, waking them up in the middle of the night for once before dragging them back to face justice was tempting, but his feelings toward Proto Man complicated the matter. The timing didn't feel right yet.
Regardless, it had still been their duty to inform someone that they knew the whereabouts of Skull Fortress.
They had first brought it up with President Lemming, who did not want to make a decision on the matter, worrying any type of counterattack would be too expensive. Senator King had been avoiding them (though Roll and Mega Man did not miss his company), and Senator Wolfe had advised them to use caution, but was too busy with her other responsibilities to be further involved. Everyone was becoming interested in the upcoming 1996 elections, and apparently Dr. Wily's attacks, no matter how annoying and frequent they became, were not an issue voters cared about (mad science made for entertaining news, but otherwise no one was very scared of Dr. Wily nor took him very seriously, especially as Dr. Light's Robo Rescue Squad always cleared up the aftermath in a timely manner).
Finally, finding themselves alone on the matter, Mega Man and Roll decided to run reconnaissance missions against Skull Fortress on their own.
At first, even with the exact coordinates, it was difficult to locate Skull Fortress. It was protected by a tricky combination of scramblers which could subtly befuddle scanners, routing them to the deserted landscape around it. Finally, certain they had the right canyon, Skull Fortress was still hidden from the naked eye, a clever holo-grid shifting its appearance to look hopelessly unmemorable from any other section of the badlands.
It didn't help that they were almost immediately detected. Skull tanks, skull jets, and skull copters quickly overwhelmed them, and they knew this would be nothing compared to the army of Robot Masters waiting for them inside.
Even Roll had to admit that it was futile. Annoyed, battered, and defeated, they returned to Dr. Light's laboratory, deciding that they'd either have to come up with a better plan of attack, or wait for Dr. Wily to make himself vulnerable by leaving his fortress.
They laid on a hill outside, basking in the warm sunshine of a beautiful May afternoon as they contemplated the day when Dr. Wily's reign of terror ended.
"I bet he'll whine like a baby when we finally get 'em," said Roll, a stalk of grass clenched between her teeth and her arms folded behind her back as they gazed up into the sky. "It's a pity most of his inventions were destroyed or neutralized though. What I'd really like to do is give him a taste of his own medicine, shoot him with the shrink ray, give him nightmares with the dream transmitter, switch his brain with something creepy using the transport chambers—"
"The transport chambers only worked on robots," Mega Man laughed ruefully. He was wearing a soft cotton t-shirt, his hands folded over his chest. "Of course, there's still Proto Man. Maybe he'll come live at Dr. Light's lab again when this is all over."
"Him? Live here?" Roll laughed derisively.
"Well, it's his home too…"
"You sound like Dad."
"You still hate him?"
"Of course. He abandoned us to work for Wily, duh. I know you think there's hope for him, Mega, but I'm tellin' ya it's a lost cause. He's never opened up to us, we don't even know what he looks like under his helmet!"
Mega Man went silent, watching a cloud that looked vaguely like a jet plane.
It was a little surreal to think about his brother, who had last left Mega Man to be chopped into small metal bits. Part of Mega Man liked to believe Proto Man wouldn't have actually abandoned him to such a gruesome end if he hadn't known how easy it would be to escape, yet it was always hard to tell with Proto Man. Still, Mega Man was trying to figure out a way to get back at Proto Man, either by making him feel remorseful for his actions, or (if that proved impossible) at least humiliate him justly as Mega Man had been time and time again.
But at the moment, things were quiet. A week after arriving at Los Angeles, Brain Bot had sent them an excited letter telling them how much he loved Citadel, how interesting (but secretive) his work was, and that he hoped to find time to visit them next year. Both Mega Man and Roll felt disappointed in this letter, hoping to visit Brain Bot themselves, yet no such invitation ever arrived.
After losing all hope of capturing Brain Bot, Dr. Wily spent long hours brooding in his laboratory and was short with everyone, even Proto Man. He was taking the loss unusually hard, as though he had just forfeited the biggest opportunity of his mad scientist career and was at the end of his rope without any sort of inspiration for his next plan.
Elec Man, despite his usual apathy toward Dr. Wily's failures, had been interested to know what had become of Brain Bot.
"After all of that, you just..let him go?" he asked after Proto Man recounted the pursuit to California within Elec Man's office. Elec Man was leaning back against the front edge of his desk while Proto Man stood in front of him. The striped badlands in the window wall behind them were a bright fiery orange in the desert sun.
"I didn't care what happened to that pipsqueak, I just didn't want that bastard Centum to get him! —No offense," responded Proto Man. "But after I found out Brain Bot was going to live with Dr. Cossack in L.A. where no Syndicate mob activity will bother him, there seemed no point in chasing him anymore. Even Wily gave up when Brain Bot reached Citadel—"
"That man…why do you keep bringing him up?" Elec Man interrupted.
"Who, Cossack?" asked Proto Man, who hadn't realized he had a habit of casually mentioning his former hostage. "I dunno, he was funny and cool. But Wily doesn't like me talking about him, so don't mention this. You know how jealous he gets about other scientists. Just as well; a rich dude like Dr. C is a prime target for Wily. Would hate if he got kidnapped. Again."
Elec Man was frowning. "If he's so great, why don't you go work for him instead?"
"Yeah, unfortunately he's just a chemist and not a roboticist, and like I could really give up crime," laughed Proto Man.
Elec Man gave Proto Man a perturbed look. "…I was joking."
"Right, I know," Proto Man said quickly, feeling wrong-footed.
There came a light knock at the door. Elec Man closed his eyes and gave an aggrieved sigh as it slid open and Top Man meandered timidly inside.
Top Man stopped short upon catching sight of Proto Man. "Oh, uh, hey Proto Man," he greeted with a nervous cough. "Am I, uh, interrupting anything?"
"Not really," answered Proto Man, shrugging.
"Alright if I come in?"
"You're already in," Elec Man responded impatiently. "What do you want?"
Top Man gave them a cordial smile. "You guys are always spending time in Dr. Wily's laboratory or in the western wing. I was just wondering if you've changed your mind about hanging out in the armory with the other Robot Masters?"
"I don't hang out," Elec Man said coldly, wrinkling his nose.
"Uh, yeah, thanks for the offer, but I don't hang out either," answered Proto Man with a little more tact.
"…Don't you two hang out together?" Top Man asked, raising a brow skeptically.
"No," Elec Man and Proto Man both answered at the same time.
Top Man glared from one to the other as though they were hiding something.
"Fine," he said finally in annoyed defeat. "Well, if you ever change your mind about hanging out in the armory…" he trailed off wistfully as he ducked back through he door, which slid closed behind him.
Elec Man rolled his eyes. "Prying little—" But whatever Elec Man was about to call Top Man, he never said out loud, either unable to think of a worthy insult or deciding to retract it at last moment. Instead, he pounded a fist against his desk, rattling a collection of computer monitors. "He'll drive me as crazy as Wily."
"So, uh…are you two getting along now?" Proto Man asked tentatively.
Elec Man gave a very noncommittal shrug, turning his back to Proto Man and pretending to be interested in straightening the computer equipment on his desk.
It had appeared Elec Man and Top Man had come to a truce about their diverging feelings on their creator, the crime boss Centum, but were still frustrated on how inherently different they were.
Elec Man (for his part) was a bit defensive about his change in attitude toward Top Man, a clashing mixture equal parts ashamed of his previous behavior and equal parts still utterly humiliated to be connected to Top Man at all. He was attempting to reconcile these mixed emotions by teaching Top Man to be a better criminal. When Top Man stubbornly resisted, he then switched to spontaneous lessons to at least become a better fighter, randomly ambushing Top Man whenever he was on Elec Man's nerves. Top Man, however, was too adept at dodging to be bullied into fighting back, much to Elec Man's annoyance.
In contrast, Top Man wanted to hang out more, especially as part of a large group. Elec Man ruthlessly rejected these appeals, stating flatly most of the Robot Masters in Skull Fortress were morons. When Top Man couldn't get to Elec Man (which was often, as Elec Man had taken to locking his door) he would find and pester Proto Man if he could catch him in the western hangar.
"That's just the way little brothers are," said Proto Man knowingly. "You'll get used to it. And just remember, there's nothing more important than family."
Elec Man gave him a flat look. "Didn't you abandon Mega Man to be crushed in a scrap metal compactor recently?"
"…What's your point? By the way, any idea if Wily's up to anything yet?"
"No, I avoid him as much as possible."
Proto Man shook his head. "It's been too quiet…it's like Doc's fallen in a rut. I know all the defeats have been getting to him, but…" He shrugged. "I'll go check on him again. He's gotta have something for us to do soon."
The night was dark with fog, a waxing moon shining sickly green through the gloom like a half lidded eye.
A lonely pier stretched out against the icy waves of the Pacific coast, its planks splintered and raggedy, barnacles creeping up its pillars like wooly stockings. On the polluted beach directly below it, Burner Man was chained to a long metal post, his back to the ocean. Thin wisps of smoke issued from the burner nozzle on top of his helmet, making him look like a giant snuffed candle. His armor was nicked and scratched, and he was trembling all over, his gas tanks clinking like shaking china.
Burner Man (not being the most original of criminal robots) had chosen an archetypical mobster's rendezvous location, so it was fitting when things turned on him he'd face an archetypical mobster's fate. The most that could be said for him in his present situation was that he had not been captured quietly. Yamato Man, Pharaoh Man, Blade Man, and Fake Man were all covered in sooty streaks, though they stood triumphantly up on the steep beach away from the grimy ocean waves.
Cornered at last, Burner Man broke down and confessed to attempting to contract the Sniper as a mercenary while guised as 'Mr. Flint,' and to being the last robot to see Ballade, witnessing Ballade murder a crook without cause during a routine shake down for Syndicate crime boss Gamma.
"I t-told Ballade that he was getting too c-carried away, and I h-h-haven't seen him since, I s-swear!" Burner Man stammered wretchedly, squirming in his chains, a wall of water crashing over him.
A silvery orb hovered next to Yamato Man's elbow. "That criminal was a scoundrel…but he didn't deserve to die," came Centum's cold, crisp voice. "Do you understand how serious concealing this information from me is?"
Burner Man cringed as another wave broke over him, a strand of kelp catching on his red and white armor. "W-we were on G-Gamma's orders…" he gasped feebly. "And I didn't know I was d-d-doing anything wrong on the Sniper thing—p-please don't k-kill me."
The silvery orb was silent for awhile, if only for effect. "I won't kill you. But you will be reprogrammed." The silvery orb rotated to face the other Robot Masters on the beach. "Power him down and bring him to my lab."
As the tide receded, Blade Man and Pharaoh Man rushed down the slope of wet pebbles and dirty plastic bottles, Blade Man slashing Burner Man loose with a stroke from his cutlass-like arm. Burner Man didn't even attempt to fight them off, he wore the dazed expression of someone expecting execution and instead getting a job transfer.
Fake Man turned on heel toward the silvery orb and saluted. "I'm sorry I wasn't able to track him down myself as planned, but at least we got him in the end. It would be bad if I were seen here. In half an hour, regular robo-officers begin their patrols again." His black eyes roved the beach critically, taking in the sandy litter. "Perhaps I can assign some rookies to clean this area. It truly is sad to see the trash that accumulates in the ocean, not including our 'guest'." Then he departed swiftly up the slope, his figure disappearing in the fog like a curtain dropping.
"It will anger Gamma if he finds out you've reprogrammed one of his robots," murmured Yamato Man, watching Pharaoh Man carry Burner Man's deactivated body out of the surf.
"He shall never find out," responded Centum indifferently. "I've had a hand in most of his robots, so it's suitable they come back to me when they misbehave—besides, I've never cared for the orders he issues them. But the other Syndicate bosses are the least of my concerns…" he trailed off, his voice sounding disappointed.
Before leaving with Blade Man, Pharaoh Man glanced over at Yamato Man, giving him a small, supportive nod. Yamato Man returned it, took a deep breath, and faced Shadow Man.
Shadow Man was balanced with the stillness of a statue and the grace of a perched bird on the tip of an eroded pipe protruding out of the sand, watching the scene with one eye closed lazily. He would have been difficult to spot (his armor blending perfectly with the night) had it not been for the small gleam in his eye like a dancing ember. He had been expecting a show once the Syndicate Robot Masters had lured Burner Man out of hiding, and for the most part had not been disappointed. But now that the entertainment was over, Shadow Man hopped nimbly to the sand and rushed deftly toward them as silent as the mist surrounding them, his tabi boots not so much as rustling a bottle cap.
"Hisashiburi, Yamatoman-kun!" Shadow Man greeted as he halted before Yamato Man, bowing. Long time no see.
Yamato Man returned the bow, his only momentary lapse from keeping his eyes on Shadow Man. "Thank you for your help, Shadowman-san," he replied formally (if coolly) in Japanese. He was as rigid as a dog spotting a fox, Shadow Man easily within skewering distance of his spear.
"Don't mention it, friend…though I expect a generous reward, or I'll destroy everyone you hold dear." Shadow Man was looking him over in a rather impertinent way, his lips twisted as though he'd like to laugh.
"Yamato Man is under no orders from me not to attack you, Shadow Man," Centum broke in, quickly picking up on the tension. The warning was light, yet firm.
Shadow Man rolled his eyes at Yamato Man, grimacing as though a wood rasp had been raked against a violin. "Oi, his Japanese is as bad as his English! Besides, you could never catch me before, why do you think you will succeed now?" He looked carelessly over his shoulder at the hovering orb and asked brassily in English, "What say you, human? Want to see an epic showdown between ninja and samurai?"
"Absolutely not," Centum responded dryly as though he could think of nothing more childish. "Let's remain civil. As grateful as I am, how did you know I was searching for Burner Man?"
Shadow Man gave a small, I-care-not shrug, before locking eyes with Yamato Man again, though his words were directed at Centum. "I put the pieces together. Hiring rogue robots to do your dirty work seemed so out of character for you, human, who only ever acted with honor. Obviously someone was causing trouble within the Syndicate. Someone who needed help from the outside to meet their own ends. I had to find out what was going on, so I turned to the most trustworthy bot I knew." He smiled at Yamato Man.
There was a small silence broken only by the slapping of waves against the shore and the creaking of the old pier above. The camera orb's lens had been fixed steadily on Shadow Man, as had Yamato Man's narrowed eyes.
Shadow Man loved the attention. He looked back at the silvery orb. "Remember me?" he asked softly.
There was a degree of respect in this question that Centum could not completely ignore, despite Shadow Man's insulting manner. Centum was also keenly aware that this was one of the rare times Shadow Man had ever shown himself to anyone, both a mark of Shadow Man's esteem and burning curiosity of them.
"You've changed a lot!" Shadow Man continued, "—Besides the obvious. Just so you know, there were never any hard feelings between us. I always thought you were alright, as humans go. I would even give back your solid gold warhorse paperweight but it looks so good on my mantle."
"You may have it. It was a gift from a business associate I didn't like."
"Oh." Shadow Man looked disappointed, but recovered quickly and continued nonchalantly, "For the past few years I've been keeping R.I.P. busy by stealing priceless ornaments from palaces, rare bibelots from private collections, famous trinkets from museums, precious gems from treasuries—"
"Trophies," Centum cut in blandly.
Shadow Man sighed forlornly, ignoring Centum. "Half of the time R.I.P. doesn't even notice." His eyes flickered to Yamato Man. "It's only fun if they notice."
"You're too smart to engage in petty antics against the Robot International Police," said Centum (Shadow Man seemed to swell with delight at the compliment, much to Yamato Man's annoyance). "You mentioned you wanted payment. Name your price and I will consider."
Shadow Man spun on his heel to face the silvery orb. "In return for helping you locate Burner Man, I ask for myself and my best mate to be allowed enter America to do whatever we please while within your domain."
"'To do whatever you please?'" Centum chuckled. "I have not changed that much. To remain in America, you will both need to join the Syndicate or forfeit crime all together. I can't allow two rogue robots to run amuck."
"You want me to join the Syndicate?" Shadow Man considered, tapping his chin thoughtfully. "If you insist. I will accept the position as your supreme leader. You and your robots may address me as Shadowman-sama—the suffix denotes me as someone of higher status, human."
"Baka…" hissed Yamato Man to himself. "Shouldn't ninjas be neither seen nor heard?"
"Thank you for elucidating me," Centum replied sarcastically. "But you know I will not accept those terms either."
"Well then…" Shadow Man uttered with a small sigh, shifting noiselessly backward among the litter, "You leave me no choice but to incite chaos until you agree to my original request. I can find work with a certain mad scientist and that wannabe 'Red Bomber,' an alliance too amusing to refuse…"
Yamato Man tensed at this threat, his spear lowing toward Shadow Man, but he glanced over at the silvery orb.
"Think carefully, Shadow Man," Centum advised. "Tonight I am feeling generous enough to reach a compromise both you and your friend with find acceptable on your own terms, but if you cross me to work for Wily, then I will rescind that generosity, especially considering how privy you are to secrets."
Shadow Man made a rude noise. "You do not frighten me! Besides…you will be too busy dealing with your saboteur to bother with anything else. It is you who should think carefully. And now, human, before we part, a poem."
"That's not necessary—"
"Where once were seedlings, now trees twisted and bitter, where has summer gone?" Shadow Man recited, his eyes closed.
"…Thanks."
With a bow to Yamato Man, Shadow Man threw a smoke bomb to the sand, Yamato Man lifting his hand over his eyes reflexively while the camera orb's lens contracted due to over exposure. When the light died, Shadow Man was gone.
The moon, now full, hung in the sky like a perfect, white disc shining above the sprawling metropolitan of barricades, chain link fences, and thick cement buildings with tiny windows that made up Colossal Laboratory. Crickets sang from the surrounding wetlands that separated the complex from all nearby towns.
Two robo-guards stood at attention at the security gate. They had unpainted steel armor and wore bright yellow caps like construction workers, laser rifles crossed against their chests.
Whistling tunelessly, Proto Man sauntered up from the shadows into the harsh glare of a flood light in front of them.
"Hi guys. Nice night, huh?" he greeted, batting away a moth that was trying to land on his visor.
One of the drones took a step forward, dropping its laser rifle to point directly at Proto Man's chest. "Unauthorized!" it buzzed stupidly, its hinged mouth wagging up and down like a mailbox door.
The second drone mirrored the first drone's actions. "Vacate premises immediately!" it warned.
"Aw…you guys are no fun at all! You gotta…loosen up a little!" replied Proto Man, signaling with his hand.
A Quick Boomerang, a Rolling Cutter, and a Shadow Blade hissed out of the night toward the security guards. They spasmed like vegetables caught in a blender as the blades tore into them, their bodies falling into heaps on the beaten ground with hard clangs.
"Malfunction, terminal error, malfunction!" the robo-drones chanted as sparks danced around their bodies.
"They really went to pieces!" Cut Man laughed wheezily as he, Quick Man, and Shadow Man joined Proto Man.
"Let's get the copter and meet up with Guts Man and Dark Man for some real fun," responded Proto Man as they trooped through the gate.
Shadow Man took off into the complex, and was soon out of sight, his presence only marked by guard drones suddenly dropping to the ground, a Shadow Blade embedded in their necks. This annoyed Quick Man, who had tagged along on this mission specifically to show his worth to Dr. Wily as one of his best Robot Masters, and now was finding himself outdone by the newest recruit, some nobody Robot Master who had come out of nowhere. Supposedly, Shadow Man had been looking to take part in higher-stakes crime, an opportunity Dr. Wily was only too eager to grant in exchange for his eternal allegiance via the Reprogramming Raygun.
"Gee, save some for the rest of us…" complained Proto Man amicably when Shadow Man finally returned to him. Even he couldn't help but be impressed.
Shadow Man merely flashed him a smile. "It's an honor to serve Dr. Wily," he replied, red eyes glinting.
While Proto Man, Cut Man, Quick Man, and Shadow Man dealt with the security outside, Dark Man and Guts Man prowled through a vacant laboratory lit only by the reddish glow of emergency exit signs and moonlight filtering through a narrow strip of windows near the ceiling. Dark Man had hacked their way inside through a side door. The laboratory itself was meant to house a hundred working scientists at a time and was filled with heavy cutting edge equipment and computer banks filled with a lifetime of research, but they made straight toward a tall nondescript cabinet comprised of locked silver drawers that stretched all the way up to the two-story room.
"It's all here…just like Dr. Wily said," murmured Dark Man, his yellow eyes flashing as he spoke.
"Yeah, it'll be like taking candy from a baby!" chuckled Guts Man, glancing down at a large machine with a delicate needle like arm that his small processor could not fathom the use for.
Dark Man strode over toward the control panel for the tower of locked drawers and began hacking the security protocols. With a pattering of clicks, the drawers all simultaneously unlocked. "You pitch, I'll catch!" he called to Guts Man, taking a step back and waving a white hand at the drawers.
Guts Man crouched low to the ground, then lunged at the storage cabinet, clinging to its side like King Kong scaling a building. The storage cabinet shook, then began to fall forward under his weight, the drawers sliding open. Guts Man leaped away while Dark Man yanked the falling components aside with an electromagnetic net just as the storage cabinet slammed onto the tiled floor with a deafening clang that would be impossible to miss throughout the complex.
Sure enough, alarms began to screech, small red lights flashing from the laboratory wall.
"Uh-oh! Sounds like our exit cue!" muttered Guts Man to Dark Man, who was holding the ends of the electromagnetic net, which hovering over his head like a giant balloon.
The ceiling rattled above them as though hit by a bomb, large chunks caving in.
"And Proto Man's entrance cue!" said Dark Man as a purple tandem rotocopter descended from the sky, two long cables ending in large metal claws dropping through the hole in the ceiling.
After securing their cargo within one of the claws, Guts Man and Dark Man grabbed hold of the other rode it up into the tandem rotocopter's fuselage.
"Easier than a binary equation," commented Proto Man as they joined him in the cockpit.
It was two in the morning when Mega Man, Roll, and Dr. Light were alerted to Dr. Wily's burglary of Colossal Laboratory.
"According to the Colossal Laboratory security director, they stole some very secret state-of-the-art scientific equipment," Dr. Light announced, reading from the Emergency Satellite Scanner's report. He looked tired, his lab coat thrown over his pajamas.
Both Mega Man and Roll were dressed (Roll had been up late in her workshop and had not gone to bed yet, Mega Man had automatically thrown on his armor at the first trill from the Emergency Satellite Scanner, yet was still rubbing sleep from his eyes). However, they had gotten the news too late and the Bad-bots had made a clean get away, so they weren't sure if there was anything else they could do for the night but wait.
"Wily's building something big…" Mega Man mused aloud, "…But what?"
After returning to Skull Fortress with their stolen goods, Cut Man, Guts Man, Dark Man, Quick Man, Shadow Man, and Proto Man were gathered in an auxiliary laboratory. Dr. Wily stood in front of them with one foot on the raised platform housing his newest invention. It was a giant, heavy machine the size and shape of a circus canon, green glass ovals attached to its mouth, a large power cell welded to its back. It sat at an angle toward the ceiling of the laboratory.
"Mwahahahah! Oh-ho, this planet will never know what hit it!" Dr. Wily cackled. "Only I, Dr. 'Brilliant Genius' Wily, will be able to pick up the pieces."
Dr. Wily marched imperiously down the platform's stairs to the machine's control panel and began working animatedly. Cut Man and Guts Man exchanged glances, Guts Man making a circling motion with his finger at temple height.
Unfortunately for him, Dr. Wily caught sight of the rude hand gesture.
"…Crazy? Do you think I'm…crazy?" Dr. Wily hissed in a low, venomous voice, as though this was the first time he had ever been called anything but mild mannered.
"Oh, no, no! Of course not!" Cut Man stammered, throwing up his hands. Guts Man was wringing his own hands, his hulking form stooped cowardly.
Aggravated at having his stride broken, Dr. Wily's glowered at Cut Man and Guts Man with beady eyes hooded by bushy eyebrows, but he resumed in a low steady growl, "—With my new gravitron, I can do what nobody in the history of the world could do…" he stooped back over the control console to finish setting up the machine, which beeped softly in response. Then Dr. Wily suddenly straightened, thrusting an open hand toward the ceiling. "…I can reach out and grab the Moon!"
He laughed wildly, closing his hand as though plucking an imaginary apple from a tree.
The Robot Masters stared in puzzlement, for this was a strange declaration, even by Dr. Wily's usual standards. Dr. Wily had been prowling the dusty floor as though he were commanding a stage, explaining his mad science with the same earsplitting enunciation of an actor hamming their way through Shakespeare, the audience still with rapt attention. In reality, the Robot Masters were just confused what to make of Wily's metaphor, if metaphor it was. Though it was good to see Dr. Wily in what appeared to be his normal mood after the depression he had fallen into over losing Brain Bot, there was something ominous about this new machine that looked (Dark Man had been quick to point out) everything like a super-villain's doomsday device.
When Dr. Wily's laughter finally died on a high-pitched 'ha,' he dropped his hand to his side and opened a dusty white capsule sitting upon a tripod with the reverence of unlocking an old treasure chest. "And the heart of the Gravitron is my very own invention, the one, the only tachyon capacitor," he breathed, pulling out a cylindrical device the size of a lantern. He inserted it into the base of the larger machine. "…And without it…the Gravitron wouldn't work!"
Proto Man had been listening with his arms crossed and his head tilted. Dr. Wily had gotten to the point in which he ruined his world domination pitch through incomprehensible rambling. He uncrossed his arms. "Yeah, this is, uhhh….really cool, Doc—but what does the Gravitron do exactly?"
A knotty vein bulged in Dr. Wily's temple, though his voice remained calm. "'Exactly?'" he repeated, lifting small foam models of the Earth and moon from a lab table. "I'll tell you 'exactly!' It can pull the Moon out of its orbit!"
The Robot Masters were not without their concerns about this statement.
"But that will cause tidal waves!" pointed out Dark Man, his suspicion about the 'doomsday device' confirmed.
"Earthquakes!" added Shadow Man, a brow raised.
"Huge storms!" put in Quick Man rapidly, not wanting to be out done by the others again.
"Precisely," hissed Dr. Wily in satisfaction as he began juggling the foam models from hand to hand, his small blue eyes sliding back and forth in a lizard-like way. "I will create chaos! Destroy everything! And when I put the moon back into its orbit with my Gravitron," he stopped juggling, his eyes fixing on the robots instead. "I'll be the only one who can rebuild the world! Mankind will beg me to take over!"
He dropped the foam models carelessly to the laboratory floor (the Earth bumping against a storage locker, the moon rolling out of reach beneath a computer terminal), as he returned to the Gravitron's control panel, trembling with excitement over his new plan.
"And the best part—ohohoh, the very best part is…" Dr. Wily growled, punching in a command to open a circular hatch in the laboratory ceiling, the moon shining serenely through the opening as the graviton powered on with a low hum. "I have finally gotten the best of Dr. Light! Mwhahahaha!"
A thin violet beam pierced the night, connecting the heart of Skull Fortress with the moon.
To be continued…