Obake Itoko Chapter 16: What's Up, Danger?, a big hero 6 fanfic

Chapter 16, everybody! This took me way too long…I've discovered that the closer I get to finishing a fic the more I drag my feet on it—gonna work on finishing this off though and reminding myself that just because this gets finished up doesn't mean it's over with (yes, I'm planning on doing the series too).

I am going to say that I'm kind of glad I did dither on this fic somewhat—Obake's outfit is skeletal in appearance and based off of his logo and the team's outfits, to the point that he kind of resembles the Boneknapper from How To Train Your Dragon. But, thanks to my dithering, I had time to go see Sonic the Hedgehog in theaters (remember theaters?) and I thought that Dr. Robotnik's gloves would be exactly the sort of thing Obake would use, which changed up how this battle is handled completely. Understand that without it we'd be having something much closer to the movie's fight.

Also, if anyone wants to see the design you can check out my DeviantArt or Tumblr pages (both under Dr. Kineil Wicks :D).

AndohgoshIthinkwe'reliketwoorthreechaptersfromtheendohboy—

The Authverlord, thanks for the review! Ooh, that's good, we're going to pretend that was totally intentional. :D Thank you, and hopefully this chapter pleases! :D

Superkoola, thanks for the review! YES! Me too! :D

MAT-2001, thanks for the review! Thank you, hopefully you enjoy this chapter as well! :D

It was a glorious day to be Alister Krei, CEO of Krei Tech. The sun was shining, the reporters were in fine moods, and there was just the right number of bubbles in the champagne. In all, a good day to be him.

And that was his opinion throughout most of his nice big speech, one he had practiced in the mirror as he decided what sort of smile was properly sincere and worthy of dedicating his new campus—right up until the end.

"And so," he concluded. "Despite setbacks in our past, our future is looking bright!"

"SETBACK!?"

That bellow made everyone start, but it was the blackness surging over the building and snaking down that had everyone running in terror. Krei dropped everything, mourning internally for the champagne, bolted—

Something grabbed his ankle, snaking up his leg, wrapping around him before forward momentum or gravity could even make a difference, squeezing the life out of him as it lifted him up to face—

Icy terror seized him at the sight of a man in a kabuki mask, all black clothing and white porcelain—

And then the mask slid back, and he was seized with the certainty that he would have rather faced down a total stranger than whatever his reality had become right now.

"Was my daughter a setback?" the ghost in front of him hissed.

"Callaghan—what—how—you-you're supposed to be dead!" Krei stammered, higher reasoning abandoning him, brain scrambling—

"Wouldn't that have been convenient for you? No one left to warn people off from you and your corner-cutting—"

"Robert, please—I-I know you're upset—"

"Upset?" Callaghan asked, and for a hot second he could almost see the genial old professor look with how calm he sounded. "Upset is what you are when someone steals a parking spot from you." The blackness tightened around Krei's chest, squeezing the air from his lungs. "No. When someone steals your daughter from you…that makes you vengeful."

Inanely, Krei's mind finally gained some traction upon spotting black columns lifting metallic pieces up and over the campus—looked down at the blackness tightening on him, blankly confirming that these were the microbots that Hamada kid had made—what was this, a setup? Were they both in on this—

Looked up at a final-sounding thud to see a painfully familiar circle far above his head, being held in place by the microbots.

"You took everything from me when you sent Abigail through that portal," Callaghan snarled, the microbots shaking Krei a little and ripping his focus away from the portal sparking to life. "Now, I'm going to take everything from you. Your campus, your legacy, your life."

"No," Krei begged, unable to tear his attention away from the portal—at least until the sound of the buildings tearing apart trumped its unearthly whine. "No—no! You can't do this to me—Robert—"

"Didn't you hear? Robert Callaghan is dead!"

"Professor Callaghan!"

Their attention snapped to the new voice—

In time to see a cast of colorful armored characters touch down on an intact roof—red pink yellow green blue purple white—ranging from big and heroic to skinny and sinister, looking ready to fight—inanely, he wondered if this was his new security team.

And then the little purple one ran to the edge of the roof, taking his helmet off as he did so to address Callaghan—

Oh you've got to be kidding me—the Hamada kid? He knew it, he knew he was in on it—

"Professor Callaghan!" the kid barked. "Professor Callaghan please! This isn't the answer!" Desperate gesture to the destruction around them. "This won't bring your daughter back—do you think Abigail would have wanted this!?" Almost in tears now. "Destruction isn't the answer—believe me, I know!"

Something in Callaghan's shoulders was losing its tension—Krei couldn't help but scramble for that straw.

"Robert, please, I'm sorry!" he threw out. "I'll give you anything you want! Anything!"

That—was probably the wrong thing to say, in retrospect.

Especially considering the slow, controlled way Callaghan turned to him.

"I. Want. My. Daughter back," he growled—

Was momentarily distracted by a yellow discus glancing off his head. Glance back—apparently remembered there were…seven people now scrambling to attack him.

"You stay put," Callaghan ordered, mask sliding back into place as he had the microbots slam Krei into the Krei Tech logo, bending the metal K to hold him in place. "I've got some other aggravations that need addressing."

Oh please let those aggravations win he was too pretty to die. Try to see everywhere at once, wincing at the damage to his building—

Screamed and curled up as best he could when debris glanced off the wall close to him, deciding eyes closed and body trembling was the best plan moving forward.

In retrospect, trying to talk Callaghan down was doomed to fail.

But that was okay—they didn't know unless they tried, and as a bonus it distracted him long enough for Obake to tug out the little bag he had tucked into a pocket—the contents of which he was upending into the seething black mass below as they flew over.

"Okay!" Hiro barked into the comm as Baymax circled wide, Obake adjusting his hold on him—magnets would have been a good idea so he could hold on better, but it would have compromised the circuitry in his armor. "The infected microbots are in—it'll take a few minutes for them to affect enough to make a difference, so in the meantime, keep Callaghan busy." Glare at the man when Baymax had to swiftly dodge a microbot spike—"And if you can, get the mask from him."

"Got it," the rest of the team chimed, leaping into the fray.

Hiro glanced over his shoulder at Obake. "How long do you think it'll take?"

Obake's head tipped—probably him consulting the data readout on the inside of his visor a la Iron Man—held up a splayed hand.

"Five minutes?" Hiro asked—when Obake nodded: "We can handle five minutes—"

A column of microbots slamming into Baymax out of nowhere alerted him to his error.

"Obake!" he yelped, seeing the other boy disappear into the seething cloud of microbots—he himself was barely holding onto Baymax, mostly knocked off but still tenaciously hooked by one magnetized hand—

Was ripped the rest of the way off and flung through one of the nearby building's windows, crashing through the glass and bouncing off a desk before tumbling to a halt on a previously pristine floor.

"OW owowow," he muttered, shaking as he tried to shove himself up—

Froze when he saw the shards of glass in front of him wavering—watched, dumbfounded, as they defied gravity and started floating towards the ceiling—

Panicked when he felt himself leaving the floor in favor of the ceiling as well.

"Uh, guys?" he squawked—bumped against the ceiling. "Gravity just got weird up here!"

"It's weird down here too!" Wasabi yelped—"HOGEEZ—"

Panicked squawks from his teammates suddenly became a secondary concern as the ceiling beneath (above?) him gave way, sending him shrieking and flailing for a handy piece of rebar—grabbed it, looked past his feet, dizzy with the concept of falling up into the sky—

No—no not into the sky—into the portal. It was sucking everything in, just like it had in the security footage.

"Oh boy," he muttered—looked down, searching frantically for his teammates—

Everyone was in various states of trouble: trapped, seized, squashed—could hear their rattled chatter through his comm—

They'd never last the five minutes—they had no practice, no backup plan, were no better against Callaghan now than they were before, and had long ago lost the advantage of surprise. Callaghan would probably be more than willing to throw them up into the portal once he was done toying with them.

They needed a new plan.

Wrack his brain, hands starting to go numb from hanging on for dear life, eyes darting everywhere—no plans, no ideas, stupid, useless, brain!

So shake things up! Try seeing things from a different angle!

Different—

Wince at something bouncing off his visor, look—

Saw the tiny shape of a microbot go spinning off into portal.

A fresh plan crystalized in his mind then—slap a hand to his comm as he looked back down.

"Guys—guys!" he barked. "Forget the mask, forget the virus—take out as many of the microbots as you can! They'll go into the portal and he won't have any to work with!"

"Not sure if you've noticed, but kind of stuck here!" Gogo barked.

"So!? You're nerds! Use those big brains of yours to find a different angle!"

Silence on the comms that was hopefully everyone coming up with a strategy—oh please don't ask him—

Sudden barks of success as first Wasabi, then Gogo broke free, Honey Lemon shortly afterwards.

"Can't…can't hold on, arms can't go any farther…oh wait—it's a suit!" Fred realized—despite everything, Hiro couldn't help but roll his eyes. "Ooh wait—sign! SPINNING SIGN OF DOOM!"

Okay, that left two—

Three, he realized, feeling his hand slip—scramble to catch, renew his hold—had to flail when he lost his grip, grabbed onto a cable snaking up into the void. "BAYMAX!"

He really needed a save right now.

Obake did the only thing applicable when he was knocked off of Baymax's back—curl up into the fetal position and hope landing didn't hurt too much.

It didn't, exactly—but it was terrifying in its own right, suddenly finding himself cocooned in a writhing black mass that replaced the world with scuttling clacking movement—like a swarm of ants planning to eat him. If it weren't for the comms, he wouldn't be able to hear anything else.

What he was hearing wasn't promising.

Everyone trapped, everyone bested in just a few heartbeats—glance frantically at the little percentage in the corner of his visor, the one telling him how many of the total sum of microbots were infected—his armor had been able to get a bead on the total percentage while Hiro had tried to talk Callaghan down, and his infected microbots would turn any microbot they came in contact with, which in turn would infect any they came in contact with—in theory, once it reached a certain point the numbers would go cascading up.

In practice, that number was growing agonizingly slowly—they'd all be corpses spiraling in whatever void that portal held long before the five minutes were up.

Hiro had come to the same conclusion.

"Guys—guys!" he barked. "Forget the mask, forget the virus—take out as many of the microbots as you can! They'll go into the portal and he won't have any to work with!"

"Not sure if you've noticed, but kind of stuck here!" Gogo barked.

"So!? You're nerds! Use those big brains of yours to find a different angle!"

True, very true—and fewer microbots to work with was infinitely preferable to certain doom…think, what else did he have available?

Ah.

Scrabble at his belt, where a handle was beating against his hip from the constant jostling—it had been a suggestion from Gogo, when she realized that he and Hiro would be basically defenseless, him more so until the microbots turned—had supplied a police baton from her backpack in the garage.

It hadn't taken very long to soup it up.

Grip it, adjust his hold, tighten his grip as he pointed what would be the business end away from him—just—one good swing—one sharp swing against these microbots, he only needed one to snap it open—

Yank hard, arm slogging against the mass of microbots fighting against him—wrist popping from so much effort put into the snap—

Ka-CHUNK!

Gogo had warned it would sound like a shotgun being ratcheted, but when she had demonstrated it hadn't had the honestly satisfying sizzle of electricity it did now. Swing it back down—

The microbots parted like the Red Sea in miniature, allowing himself a metaphorical gasp of fresh air, a glimpse of dizzying blue sky—

Swing, keep swinging, until he was mostly free—microbots were spinning up in the air, unable to fight the inexorable pull of the portal—

Callaghan roared in frustration—a wave of microbots swamped everyone, yanking the baton away from Obake and sending him flying, flailing frantically to avoid being pulled under—

"BAYMAX!"

Looked up frantically, the shriek of terror ripping through both the comm and the air—saw Hiro dangling by a thread, dangerously close to the portal—

"Hiro," Baymax registered, something almost like fear in the robotic voice—

Obake didn't hear much else, the microbots squeezing against his armored sides painfully, making his still-healing ribs creak—Baymax glanced at him—

He managed to free an arm, pointing up. "FORGET ME—SAVE HIM!"

The last thing he saw before going under again was Baymax blasting himself free and angling for Hiro.

Blackness everywhere, squeezing hard, tearing him every which way—bleakly, he wondered if Callaghan had figured out it was his least-favorite student fighting him—disoriented, lost track of which way was up—coughing and wheezing from a combo of screaming so hard his already-damaged throat tore and microbots squeezing his ribs, sending pinkish spittle across his visor—edges of his vision started to darken, not gonna make it, not gonna—

Bree-bree-bree-bree—

Idly, he wondered if Hiro had put a breach alarm in this thing, randomly wondered if he had dreamed everything up and would be flailing around to pound on his alarm in the next few seconds—

Wait.

The percentage in the corner was flashing, and the visor was showing several of the microbots accosting him glowing purple—meaning they were infected.

But that number—that beautiful number—

Critical mass time.

Okay—his helmet had the same function as the neurotransmitter—how did Hiro say it worked? Just think it? How about we start with a little shield that kept him from being battered? Hook his mind on that image, strong focus on what he wanted despite the fuzz eating away at the edges of his eyes and brain—

It took several long moments to realize that the number of microbots accosting him had been greatly reduced, slithering around the thin sphere of purple microbots and getting infected in turn, slowly building up the layers of protection around him—

Collapse against the solid wall of friendly microbots, chest heaving and ribs twitching at the relieved laughter coughing out of him—oh, oh man…oh man he had enough to work with now—

He could do some damage with this.

Take a few more seconds to compose himself, balling his fists as he pictured just what he wanted his microbots to do—

Thin lines snaking out were quickly broken up, but achieved the purpose of infecting a greater number—several finally made it up the columns supporting the portal, with the singular order to hold it there—glance at the number again, growing at a comfortingly quickish pace now—

Time to make this a fight between ghosts.

Despite picturing it, despite expecting it, he still felt a surge of alarm at getting shot out of the seething mass of microbots, the reduced gravity induced by the portal allowing him to do a decently impressive backflip (he hoped)—

Hit a patch of violet and zoomed off, flailing a little to keep his balance as his microbots went skimming over Callaghan's, leaving a trail of infected ones that immediately reversed course in their eagerness to serve their new master. Callaghan hadn't noticed yet, Callaghan was still busy trying to stab Baymax out of the sky once again—surge of relief when he registered Hiro on the healthcare robot's back—

Hiro spotted him in-between Baymax bashing away microbots, whooped in glee when he registered what had happened—Callaghan twitched, followed his line of sight—

Right in time for Obake to go surging straight up to him, flipping backwards in imitation of a winning soccer kick as his microbots swung up to knock Callaghan for a loop.

Tumble backwards as his microbots recovered and righted him—go sailing around in a wide arc, laughing as he gave a mocking bow to a dumbfounded Callaghan, hoping his posture perfectly telegraphed and what are YOU going to do about it, punk?

Because that number had hit the cascade point now, was shooting up rapidly—he couldn't help laughing as Callaghan angrily sent sharp microbot jabs, only for them to be blocked by what he probably figured were still his microbots—

And in doing so left him wide open to the rest of the team, forced to go on the defensive, screaming furiously in his frustration—

Obake couldn't resist another hit when the number was just a few points off of total infestation, backed off only a little when Callaghan righted himself—

"This ends NOW!" he roared, gesturing—

Which probably would have been very impressive, had Obake's number not hit one hundred percent then. Wag a finger at him—

Callaghan's next clear recollection, he was sure, was getting slammed into the ground. Or maybe it was coming to and seeing six kids and one healthcare robot glaring down at him (well, six kids—Baymax didn't really do glaring).

"Looks like you're out of microbots," Hiro said smugly.

Callaghan's attempt at either escaping or fending them off was quickly arrested by the microbots, letting him know just how much fun it was to be squeezed hard enough to make crucial bones creak, was unable to do anything to stop Hiro from pulling his mask off.

"Lucky for you, our programming prevents us from taking a life," Hiro continued, handing the mask back to Baymax—who squeezed it until it broke, impressively.

"Eh," Gogo noised, shrugging before stepping forward—

And punching Callaghan. Hard.

"That's for Tadashi," she told him. "And this—" Swing around and slug him with the other fist. "Is for everything. Else." Shake her hand, turn to the rest of them as Callaghan rocked into unconsciousness, note their expressions. "What? Think I shouldn't have done that?"

"Dude," Fred noised.

"I mean so long as you didn't hurt your hand," Wasabi offered.

"Can you hit him again?" Honey Lemon asked.

"Probably should have hit him harder," Hiro said, nodding at Obake punching one hand into the other. Look up, frown. "Now how do we stop that?"

Everyone followed suit, saw the portal still greedily sucking in anything it could.

"Okay," Gogo noised. "Probably shouldn't have knocked out the guy who knew how to stop it."

"Wait—Krei helped make that thing," Wasabi pointed out. "Think he'd know?"

"Where is Krei?" Honey Lemon asked.

"UM!" someone yelled, redirecting their attention—and spotting Krei still wrapped up in his own sign on the building. "I COULD USE SOME ASSISTANCE HERE!"

"Krei: is over there," Baymax offered.

Idly, Obake wondered if Baymax had come preprogrammed with snark.

A combo of Baymax and the microbots saw Krei back on solid ground in short order.

"OH thank you thank you thank you," Krei said, kissing the pavement.

"Yeah yeah yeah," Hiro said, waving to attract his attention before pointing up. "The portal—how do we stop it?"

"You can't stop it," Krei said, getting up. "It'll keep going until it rips itself apart—which will be any time now with the way it's destabilizing. The best thing is to get everyone away from it!"

"Once it self-destructs it's done?" Wasabi asked—when Krei nodded: "Then I agree, let's go."

"Right—Baymax, make sure no one else is in the area," Hiro told the healthcare robot.

"Scanning," Baymax announced as they fled for cover—Hiro having to double back when he realized Baymax wasn't following.

"Baymax you can scan and move at the same time," he said, grabbing Baymax's hand and tugging.

"I have detected a female signature," Baymax said, looking up—pointing. "In there."

Hiro looked—

Felt his stomach bottom out when he realized Baymax was indicating the portal.

"Wha—is she okay?" he asked, looking back at Baymax.

"She is currently in: hypersleep," Baymax reported.

Hypersleep—but that meant—

"Callaghan's daughter—s-she's alive?"

"Hiro!"

Look at the others, waving for him and Baymax to get out of range of the portal—he ran halfway to them, pitched his voice to be heard over the roaring as he pointed up. "Callaghan's daughter! She's still alive!"

Stunned looks—first at him, then at the portal—Honey Lemon put a hand to her comm.

"Hiro—what should we do?"

In that second Hiro knew precisely how Tadashi felt, that awful terrible night—knowing that someone was alive and in grave peril, that if you didn't act now they'd never be seen again…inaction was the safest course, yes.

But it wasn't the course he could live with, any more than Tadashi could have.

Steel himself, put a hand to his comm. "We are not doing anything—Baymax and I can get in and out quickly, we'll go get her."

"Hiro NO!" came from at least three different sources, the team running forward as he climbed onto Baymax's back—Krei was hollering and asking what was going on, Wasabi told him—

"Wait hold it NO!" Krei hollered, seemingly torn between bodily stopping him and staying back and alive. "That portal will collapse any minute! You won't make it!"

"We have to TRY!" Hiro shot back—didn't really want to see the team's expressions—

Microbots suddenly moved under Obake, lifted him up to hang onto Baymax next to Hiro. Even through the darkened visor, he could see the defiant look, could almost hear the thought that went with it: I can't stop you, but you can't stop me from coming.

Nod, exhale—"Put it somewhere where we have a clean exit."

"Hiro."

He looked at the rest of them, worried, scared—it was evident in their eyes they thought this would be the last time they saw him, hoping that wasn't true at the same time. He knew it, recognized it because he was feeling the exact same way.

But he had to try. Deep inhale—

"Someone has to help."

And with that, Baymax was off, angling up in a loop so he could aim for the portal, now set against the front of the main building, microbots skittling away to avoid being in its pull—holding his breath as those fluctuating colors filled his vision—