FUSIONFALL OR:

HOW WE GOT TOGETHER TO FIGHT THE INVASION

PART 7: JACK AND THE FUSION

The further north they travelled, the worse the infection became. Gliding over the endless rainforest, they saw how what were once strong, proud trees become gnarled and twisted things. They stood hunched, cowering in shame, mourning their ruined bodies, blaming their fellow brethren for succumbing to the disease. The fusion matter soiled their trunks, eating into their bark like leprosy, and causing a pest of mutant flowers to sprout all over them, taunting their hosts with wild petals that appeared like garishly coloured blades from a distance. Yet, despite how severely the forest had become a shadow of its former self, the only thing the heroes saw from the safety of the carrier were the thousands of shapes of fusion monsters that roamed the ground. They were everywhere.

Mojo grunted as he poured over the map projected onto the central table. He traced his finger along the path they were taking, ending at a point where the map was sparse of detail. "We are entering simian territory," he said. "The carrier should be approaching the mountain, where my mountain base is." Dexter came over to the table to study the map with him. He tapped at the control panel on the edge of the table, prompting it to begin drawing in updates from the live footage the carrier recorded via its outer cameras. On the screens in the walls surrounding them, fitted so they created the illusion of windows, they could see the trees actually becoming healthier again. Somehow, Mojo's troops had managed to slow the infection here. Then, at first so brief it was easy to doubt, they began to see the flitting silhouettes of monkey minion scouts popping up through the foliage. It appeared that they had spotted the carrier, surely dashing to alert their comrades back at the base. Dexter raised his eyebrow in Mojo's direction, who shook his head. Apparently not something to be concerned about yet.

Gradually, the density of the trees waned and the landscape became sparser. Grass gave way to rocky terrain as they cleared the rainforest's limits and began to sail into the hidden basin that surrounded the infamous Monkey Mountain. Ben, Blossom, and Numbuh 1 moved closer to the window screens as they closed in, momentarily lost in a sense of fascination, eager to witness a wonder of the world they had at most seen blurred pictures of in school. They saw how it dominated the earth, looming even over the carrier, bathed in its black sea of cloying smoke and ash.

Before they entered the void, the dark outline of the walls surrounding the New Simian Nation faded into view beneath them. They passed over it, seeing how the rocky land had been tamed by Mojo's people, nurturing a network of buildings and roads fit to accommodate their miniature civilisation. Finally, the carrier approached what seemed to be the colony's central hub. They could see that the bulk of the population had gathered in waiting on one of the open fields. But something was odd about how they were positioned. They were standing in a large circle. Why?

As they got closer it became clear: they had surrounded someone. A man dressed in white. "Who is that?" Ben asked. Mojo stared at the footage, perplexed. "I do not know," he said.

The minions had begun to notice the carrier almost upon them. Groups of simians split from the crowd, running in various directions. The heroes turned to look at Mojo. Mojo's eyes darted across the screens, eyes narrowed. "They are preparing to attack," he confirmed. Ben and Blossom glanced at each other and headed to the bridge's exit to intervene.

"No!" Mojo shouted. "They will hit us before you intercept them. Land the carrier this instant - they will stop when they see me."

Dexter nodded and moved to the pilot's control panel. He ran his hands over it, commanding the carrier to lower. A gust of wind blew the simians out of the way as its massive weight dropped towards them. The carrier slowed to a halt at the very last second, jolting everyone aboard, before making contact with the ground. Mojo had already left the bridge, running out onto the carrier's deck to make his presence known.

"Cease fire, cease fire! I command you to obey me, in the name of your leader, the Simian Supreme!" Mojo waved his arms as he leaped straight off the carrier's side, landing in a powerful squat. The minions gasped when they saw him. They hollered to pass on the message that their great leader had returned, scurrying to alert the artillery to negate their orders. Mojo strode into their midst, pushing them aside as he looked around, until he found who he was looking for. "Yadda Yadda!"

Yadda Yadda's eyes widened as he turned to see Mojo calling his name. He ran to meet his leader and fell to kneel at his feet, offering his open palm. "Simian Supreme, forgive me," he panted, "We did not know it was you."

Mojo gripped Yadda's hand and pulled him to his feet. He grasped his general on the shoulder as he spoke. "At ease, Yadda. You did not possess the necessary information to know that it was I aboard the ship." Yadda nodded in relief. "Now tell me," Mojo continued, "Who is the man you have captured?"

Yadda shook his head. "Simian Supreme, we do not know. He suddenly appeared within the colony's limits and began slowly approaching. Nobody saw him come in. The guards have not even been able to touch him – he is more agile than anything we have ever have seen. But he has not even tried to attack, he has just stood there unmoving. He will not even respond to speech!"

Mojo frowned. He stepped past Yadda to approach the man. Behind, the other heroes were now descending from the carrier. Mojo signalled his minions to hold and let them join him. The group moved to the front of the crowd, the simians in front still pointing their guns at the man in white. And now, Mojo could see, that-

"Hey, he's dressed like a samurai!" Ben exclaimed.

Mojo shot him a dirty look, but Ben was right. The man was in fact draped in a white and grey kimono; his black hair pulled up into a tight knot. At his hip was a sword resting in its curved scabbard.

Ben moved in closer, now grinning, Mojo following close behind. "Hey man, cool outfit!" Ben said. "Is that a real sword? Man, that is so cool if it is. I got a similar set for my player on SSO, but the kimono's more of a mid-grey with these printed designs on it. Probably not that authentic, but you know?" He smiled. The samurai did not respond.

Mojo pushed Ben out of the way. "You are in my territory, samurai, territory that is mine, on land that belongs to me. State your identity!" he ordered. The samurai stared at him blankly. Mojo bared his teeth, feeling his temper boiling. "You are testing my patience. I do not like my patience being tested. I said state your identity now, or you will be regretful!" Nothing.

"Hey, who do you think you are, pushing me?" Ben said as he marched back up to get into Mojo's face. Mojo met his eyes with a look of disdain. "Get out of my face, boy."

"Ohhh, boy? So that's how it's going to be, huh? What, you think I won't take you now just 'cause I told Blossom I wouldn't?" Ben leaned in close, standing up straight so that he dominated Mojo's height. Mojo continued to meet his gaze unflinching.

"Ben," Blossom said sternly. Ben rolled his eyes and sighed. "Fine," he said. "But try push me again and you'll see what happens," he said as he moved away from Mojo.

Dexter narrowed his eyes as they watched the silent samurai. Not counting the obvious, there was something about him that made him suspicious. The more he stared, the more something seemed… off. Despite there being nothing superficially unordinary about his appearance, Dexter's eyes were having trouble accepting what they saw. Almost like noticing an optical illusion that didn't quite work. He turned to see Blossom and Numbuh 1 beside him, and found that they too were observing the samurai with a similar gaze. They could all feel it. Something was wrong.

"Enough, nobody makes a mockery of Mojo Jojo! If you do not state your identity and your purpose, nor tell me who you are and why you are here at this instant, I will have you removed by force. And I do not care how much force is used." Mojo strode toward the samurai as he spoke, invading his space, and it was this act that provoked him. The samurai suddenly drew his sword and stepped back into a duelling stance, aiming his blade's point at Mojo's throat. Instantly, the minions stepped in to surround the samurai with their weapons, covering him from all directions to shoot him down before he could harm their great leader.

"Woah!" Ben began yelling, "What are you doing? Get back from him now!" He moved to pull Mojo away but was stopped by the minions turning their guns on him too. The other heroes found themselves surrounded as well, the minions no longer in the mood to play pretend allies and ready to execute on the Simian Supreme's command. "Mojo, tell your men to stand down!" Blossom shouted while Dexter and Numbuh 1 put their hands up in the air. Mojo wasn't listening yet, still squaring off with the samurai. "Damn it, Mojo!" Blossom yelled, fists clenched, unwilling to engage in a fight with the boys compromised. She shifted her position, glancing around at the weapons surrounding them, calculating whether she could pull them up in time, when-

"STOP!" a new voice cried out in the distance.

From the edge of the field, they all turned to see two men running towards them. On the left, lagging slightly behind, was a burly fellow with fiery red hair, a kilt, and a machine gun for a leg. And on the right… was the samurai's identical twin.

The voice came from the second samurai, who waved his arm as he ran, his face scratched with worry. He skidded to a stop as he came upon them, raising his hands too when more simians aimed their guns at him.

"Wait, wait, listen to me!" he pleaded. "That creature over there is not what you think it is, you must get away from it!"

They all stared. What was going on? Even with the first samurai threatening him, Mojo turned to look over his shoulder at them incredulously.

Blossom was the first to respond. "What do you mean by creature?" she said.

"It is not human," the second samurai said. "It has the power to camouflage – to present itself as something else, like my form it has taken. It is highly dangerous!"

Dexter now understood. "The creature, was it originally green?" he questioned.

The second samurai's eyes widened. "Yes."

Dexter turned to study the first samurai again. That uneasy feeling he felt, that something wasn't right – it was because it was one of Fuse's spawn. But this one was different to the others. In fact even now, with its sword drawn, it had not done anything else but stand in a guard position while continuing to watch them like before.

Numbuh 1 spoke up. "Why isn't it attacking like the other fusion monsters?"

"We think it is still learning," the second samurai said. "It won't do anything if you do not engage it, so please, lower your weapons and back away from it." He placed his hand on his own sword, meaningfully. "We can take it from here."

"Nonsense!" Mojo finally roared. "Creature or not, Mojo Jojo will not be disrespected in his territory, territory that belongs to him, and get away with it. Open fire!"

"No!" Ben dashed to interrupt Mojo, but it was too late. The minions obeyed their leader's order and released a shower of bolts.

Instantly, the first samurai reacted. It flipped up and out of the way, impossibly high into the air, and in doing so, dropped its camouflage. As it darted between the bolts that whipped past, its once white robes appeared to bleed with black, staining them until they changed completely. Its skin began to melt, dissipating to be replaced by a layer of all too familiar, pulsating, glowing green. Even its mouth was erased, leaving only a flat space to remain. Then its eyes changed – stretching into horrible angular shapes, congesting with solid clots of sanguine red. The creature landed several yards away from the furthest minions as they ran out of bolts and scrambled to reload. It stood up to its full height and tilted its head.

It attacked.

Desperately, the simians tried to counter its movements. It slipped like fluid between the soldiers, cutting down their guns and stabbing through their armour, stripping them. The minions were thrown to the side like forgotten ragdolls, dragging their own to the ground with them, those who remained conscious having no choice but to crawl away humiliated for any chance of escape. Finally, in mere seconds, the creature had made its way back to face Mojo and the heroes. Mojo levelled his gun to aim. Blossom entered a fighting stance, and Ben raced through the Omnitrix to select a transformation.

The creature adjusted its grip, and darted forward – only to be met by the samurai's blade.

Flitting past the heroes in a blur, the samurai drew his sword to engage the creature. He stepped into the creature's path, his own sword soaring in an arc to interrupt the creature's momentum. The creature was forced to a stop, its blade brought down by the samurai's, each of their fists gripping tight around their hilts as they pushed their guards into the other. The samurai shifted backwards. He pulled his sword to slide along the edge of the creature's steel, until only their tips touched. With the space opened up again between them, the two opponents were now face to face in a duel.

"Scotsman!" the samurai shouted, calling to his companion. "Aye, I got ya!" the man shouted with a thick accent, reaching up behind his back to produce his own claymore sword. The Scotsman ran to crouch low behind the samurai, sword also in a guard position. He moved in the shadow of his friend, covering his blind spot, ready to jump to his defence. The understanding they had of each other's roles was clear as day.

The creature stepped forward with its right foot, bringing its blade up to hold diagonal over its head. And in doing so, it entered the fifth stance of the master swordsman. The samurai saw and responded. He entered the position of he who receives, moving a half step back while twisting the point of his sword to aim at the creature's eye. The samurai stood tense as he watched the creature, muscles tight like springs, knuckles burning white from their grip.

The creature approached a single step, and the samurai countered with one of his own.

The creature stepped two more, and the samurai did too.

The creature paused… then rushed forward, driving its blade towards the samurai's head with impossible speed, its right foot stamping into the ground as it threw all its weight onto it. The samurai twisted to the side, swinging his sword up to answer the creature's deadly question, hitting it at just the right moment to deflect its attack so that it ripped through the air an inch away from his shoulder. Immediately, the creature stepped back, bringing its guard back up before the samurai could exploit the opening. The samurai felt his breath quicken, his heart thumping. He had not faced an enemy this skilled in a long time.

Now, the samurai challenged the creature with a proposition. He stepped forward with his left foot, his sword crossing past his head and coming to rest over his right shoulder. The creature recognised the fourth stance of the master swordsman, and responded. Becoming he who receives, it took a deep step back, and brought its sword with it to point behind, concealing its length from the samurai completely. The samurai took a deep, steady breath, and released it.

He took three rapid steps forward, and brought his sword up high to whip down towards the creature.

The creature mirrored with three steps of its own, and it too brought its sword up high from behind it, stretching its arms out to meet it in the air. The blades sang to each other, siblings locked in battle, equals by the blood they promised to draw. The opponents brought their swords down slowly to guard, testing each other's grip with minor pushes, feeling for an opening. Suddenly, the creature twisted its point and stabbed, aiming straight for the samurai's throat. The samurai threw his weight to the side, dropping his blade completely to pass under the creature's, stepping into its opening he stole back to cut it. The creature stumbled, dropping its sword too as it evaded the samurai's counterattack. But the samurai's blade pierced the creature's robe, and the heroes saw how the contact made the material curl open.

The samurai followed through, chasing down the creature, but the creature recovered. It grabbed its sword with both hands and dived, blade swinging wild for the samurai's wrist. The samurai deflected the blow, turning to follow the creature's path as it continued past him. The opponents entered guard once more, the Scotsman still lying in wait for when the samurai needed it. Back and forth they went - trading quick, vicious blows; testing and experimenting to learn more about their partner in this relentless dance.

The heroes had accepted their role of audience to this scene, Ben more than most as he eagerly followed. However, something particular had caught Dexter's eye. Each time the samurai's blade made contact with the creature, be it its robe or sword, he could see that the material that made it all up shrink away as if it had been burned. It would be a split second, and often the goo knitted itself back together again, but it was consistent. It was as if the sword had a quality that made it toxic to the creature's very essence.

The samurai pulled away from the creature's tip and took several steps back. Panting heavily now, the heroes watched as his grip loosened, allowing his sword to lower until its point was below his knees. Beads of sweat coated his forehead, and his hair was beginning to slip loose from its knot.

The creature saw the opportunity, and closed in to finish him. It ran forward, blade arcing through the air, soaring to cut through his shoulders. But the samurai stepped in sharply, closing the gap before it could, and now the creature found its blade flung from its hands as the samurai brought up his sword in its path. Then the samurai continued his journey, his movement taking him past the creature's side, his blade dropping to slice right through its torso. He finished right behind it, landing on his knee, sword pointing outwards, its cutting edge dripping with green goo that boiled and evaporated before the heroes' very eyes, and revealing that he had tricked the creature into letting him end it with the ninth and final stance of the master swordsman.

The creature stumbled one, two steps forward, and collapsed to the ground. As soon as it hit the earth it began to melt all over, its body, robes, and weapon dissolving into a dark patch.

The samurai stood up and inspected his sword, finding it clean, before returning it to its scabbard. The Scotsman put his own claymore away too, and walked over to him. "That was a risky move," he said, his eyes glinting with amusement.

"I know," the samurai replied. "But I would have seen the opportunity to deal the finishing blow, and so naturally it did too. I am just glad I was able to counter my own moves."

The samurai took one final look at the creature's remains, his face unreadable, then turned to face the heroes. He walked over to join them; the heels of his wooden sandals soundless on the earth. "Now, if we may introduce ourselves properly," he said. "This is my friend, the Scotsman." He indicated his companion, who folded his hairy arms over his massive chest, mouth breaking open to reveal a gap-toothed grin. "And you can call me," the samurai continued as he pointed a finger to his own chest,

"Jack."

END OF PART 7