MEGA MAN X: ISLAND OF AWAKENING
By Erico
CHAPTER NINE: JUNKYARD WARS
"That's half our Maverick Generals…" Said Agile tersely. "HALF." The walls of the structure entitled 'Ice Fortress' didn't respond. Neither did the Mavericks hustling about, using their powers not to destroy for once, but to turn the makeshift structure of metal walls, wiring, passages and power generators into a true Maverick Fortress.
Thankfully, it seems that X had gotten scraped up badly as well in the fight with Violen. That one saving grace had given their forces on Cornus a breather. Although it wasn't much…Serges had spent six hours on Violen, and the bulky reploid was still as traumatized as any of them.
"Perhaps we're just not strong enough." Agile muttered to himself. None of the Maverick techs and construcbots minded his musings, and Serges and Violen were still at the Central Computer base with Magnus, patching up Violen and making sure the remaining forces were running at full speed.
And Agile had his doubts about their strength. Each had tried a different tactic, a different mode. Yet somehow X held within him a scrutinizing mind perfectly suited for analytical battle…and his opponents always fell.
Agile looked at his hand. At one time, it had been capable of taking out entire squads of reploid forces. And now that X had taken him out with seemingly minimal effort…
Hell, he was just another reploid concerned for his mortality. The term Maverick wasn't nearly as potent.
Mavericks didn't fear death. Mavericks gave it, and when it came, they embraced it without remorse. That was the way of the Maverick.
So why then after surviving death did Agile feel so…
"Afraid." He finished out loud.
Still, no one replied.
Agile didn't sigh, didn't groan. He merely accepted what had transpired and turned back to his work.
He'd have to keep this to himself.
But Mavericks didn't have doubts either…
Did they??
X blinked his eyes and stared for a few moments.
I'm alive. . .alive. . .
No duh, Detective. The Mavericks ain't dead yet. X's face broke into a frown.
So you're still around?
Until this is over. Then I might consider leaving.
Hazil appeared in the corner of X's vision, his face its usual mask of growly distaste.
"Well, looks like our new Blue Bomber's up and around. How goes it, X?"
"I feel like Hell." X said, unclenching his fists. Hazil clucked.
"That's because when you came in, you'd arrived from it." Hazil put a datapadd down on X's chest armor and rolled back a few inches, raising a hand up to rub at his chin thoughtfully. "And not all of the damage was physical, either."
"Oh?" X said questioningly. Hazil narrowed his vision.
"I'm afraid so, bub. When you came in, you were screaming and thrashing around and telling someone…who WASN'T ME…to get out of your head." Hazil looked at X expectantly. "Spill it."
X pursed his lips for a moment and decided to run some system scans instead.
All results were nominal. If there was one thing Hazil did well, it was fixing up Hunters from the brink of destruction. That's why he was still around…because it sure as Hell wasn't the pay.
"Well?!" Hazil chirped. "Gonna answer me, or am I going to have to disconnect your vox processor to match your new career as a mime?"
"I'm not going nuts." X muttered.
"What?"
"I said you don't need to wrap me up in a strait jacket. Christ, Hazil!" Hazil coughed for a moment.
"Well, what is it then? If you're not going nuts, what's going on?"
"I'd feel more comfortable talking to Cain about this, to tell you the truth…" X said softly. Hazil heard that clearly enough.
"Cain may have brought you into this world, but he ain't your doctor. I am, and unless you tell me what's going on inside that cryptic mind of yours, I can't help you."
"What, can't you scan me?" X asked with an upraised eyebrow. Hazil shook his head.
"You and Zero are just far too different from other reploids…in a lot of respects, your schematics seem to resemble each other's almost down to the wiring. No, I can't download shit from Zero's mind, and I can't scan yours." X blinked for a moment.
"That's crazy."
"You're a prototype, X." Hazil reminded him. He turned to the sections of Zero off in his corner of the Medical Bay. "And I'm beginning to wonder about him as well…" X pulled himself up from the medical cot and gave himself a visual scan. All the armor chinks, scrapes, and gaping holes had been repaired. X paled.
"How long was I out?"
"About a day now." X shook his head.
"Christ, that long?" Hazil turned about, looking exasperated.
"Look, pal. You don't just get up from the sort of wounds you sustained yersterday, all right?!" Hazil groaned. "It's December 27th, 2118. Now that your chronometer's been reset, I suggest you tell me about what the Hell is going on on the inside of that mind of yours before I say to Hell with the impossibility and rip out your CPU for PAINFUL TESTING!!"
"All right, all right." X said soothingly. "Just remember, I'm not going nuts." Hazil folded his arms.
"I'm listening." X took a deep breath.
"There's a voice in my head that's sort of been talking to me since the Second Uprising started." Hazil blinked twice and didn't shy his gaze away.
"You ARE nuts." He said finally. X shook his head.
"I told you…"
"Slag it." Hazil chirped. "I know what you said. But the simple fact is that this sorta thing doesn't exactly look good on performance reviews. What if you're in the heat of battle and you suddenly break down because this voice starts trying to start up a session of Crossfire with you on the issue of canned cheese?!"
Canned cheese? Herm…last reploid I remember mentioning that is Cancer.
Shut up. Don't you DARE desecrate Cancer's name, you sick…
Oh, har. Hazil's looking at you as the one who's sick. Sick in the mind.
X struggled not to show the internal conversation.
"No, I don't think that'll be a problem…on several occasions, the voice has actually HELPED me to survive battles."
That's because you suck at fighting.
"Oh, SHUT UP." X growled. Then he realized he'd said that out loud. He looked at Hazil, his mouth slightly open in surprise.
Hazil blinked at him for a few more moments before running a hand through his hair.
"I didn't say anything." The Medical Reploid answered finally. X shook his head.
"I know." Hazil picked up his datapadd and rolled back over to his desktop PC.
"Well…I'll have to make a note of this in the records, X. You know that, right?"
"Yeah." The Hunter replied, crestfallen.
Well, this is gorgeous. Perhaps next time you'll learn to not lip back, eh?
X didn't give the voice the pleasure of another comeback. Hazil turned back around and scrutinized the Hunter.
"Still…you're our best bet for dealing with the Cornus situation. So for the moment, I'm releasing you back to active duty. I suggest you go and check with Cain on where you need to head next." X calmly walked out of the room.
Hazil rolled over to the pile of the multi-sectioned Zero and rolled his eyes.
"For what I just did, I need to get my head checked. Eh, Zero?" The pile of metal, wiring and systems didn't respond. Hazil scratched at his head.
True, the pile was in good condition.
True, Hazil had helped download a backup program into Zero's Warp Generator.
True, he'd never expected to see Zero again.
"The worst part about getting a surprise Christmas present K'nex set is realizing you don't have the instruction manual to build the friggin' Ferris Wheel." Hazil offered.
"You Zero, are the craziest wheel of 'em all."
Every place is not without its place to send refuse…Cornus Island was no different. But due to its high level of technological advancement, Cornus's dump was pretty much a scrapyard.
No leftover coke cans or banana peels or dirty diapers.
Morph Moth realized he had that much to be thankful for. No, instead what lay in the heaps were robots, roploids, and even the empty shells of reploids. All able to be rebuilt. All able to be reprogrammed.
Morph Moth was a Maverick General far different than any other who'd come before. He was lightly built, like his associate Magna Centipede, relying mainly on speed, agility, and his overpowering attacks that required substantial charge time to see his way through battles. But while Magna Centipede was skilled in the art of computer CODE, a bizarre field that allowed him to weave circles around others in the world of cyberspace and hacking, Morph Moth's skill was constructing small robots with powerful overrides.
He smiled darkly. Oh my, yes…He called them 'Skippers' for short…but in truth, they had no real name. They were controller drones…tiny little things that hopped about a set area and waited for an unfriendly to approach. When they did, they would scamper about with all speed to try and latch onto their victim.
Once that was accomplished, the poor fool was pretty much dead. Morph Moth pulled his hand, and the screwdriver in it, away from his latest little beauty.
"Awaken, little one." He cooed softly to it. The tiny robot's servos whirred for a few moments as its CPU activated the re-initialization cycle. Then the drone flipped onto its legs and hopped to the ground, scurrying off down the hallway to whatever corridor Morph Moth had assigned it to.
"Who would have ever thought it possible a simple scrap robot would gain the ability to overpower a reploid?" Morph Moth mused to himself humorously. He'd sent off the design schematics and a squad of ten to the Ice Fortress…Agile had noted drily there was a spike lined corridor that the fleet of tiny drones would work particularly well in.
Yes, Morph Moth's primary defense against invaders was his massive horde of junkyard robots. His next one was a robotic decoy on a string that could put up enough of a fight to take out entire squads of Hunters.
The alarm buzzed as the junkyard's entry building's security camera activated. Morph frowned and turned to it. His eyes darkened.
"Well, I always did want a full test of my beauties…I suppose he'll do." Morph traced his tiny viewscreen with a gloved finger.
"Yes…Well, Mega Man X. you've faced warbots. But have you faced scrapbots?" He smirked.
"Let's try my style of fighting, then. Junkyard Wars."
"Well, here's a change of pace." X said blithely to himself. "When I turn bots to scrap, I don't have to clean up after myself." He kicked a rubber tire out of his way and looked about.
He didn't think that the Mavericks would ever degrade themselves to sticking an outpost at a junkyard. Still, Cristoph and the GDC Cornus Task Force Council'd made it all too clear that this junkyard had some pretty advanced stuff. Advanced enough that if they were diligent enough to sift through the remains, they might be able to patch together an imposing force.
As the chief Hunter and designated cannon fodder for Cornus reclamation, it was up to X, his Buster, and his wits to try and put a stop to that.
"Join the Maverick Hunters." X snorted in disgust. Yeah, that was the stuff that was being put on the airwaves nowadays. "See the world! Save the world! Be loved by the world!" X began to charge his Buster up as he walked closer and closer to a Disk Boy 08.
Well, that's half true. The Maverick Hunters do save the world.
And yet at the same time, they're shunned because of who they are. Reploids.
True. Now shut the Hell up. I'm in trouble because of you…
And the kicker is, you don't know who I am. The voice said in a half mocking tone. X growled and took another step towards the Disk Boy guardian. Sure enough, it pulled out a boomerang discus and threw it. X leapt the shot with ease and returned fire, blowing first the shield, then the enemy itself away.
X went on inside of the first structure, warily looking about as his Buster whined with another charge. His eyes were sharp, and he didn't pale at what he saw.
Hanged reploids…dead, empty shells of the beings that they had once been. These weren't general human class, although their form was that of a human's. With faces of metal and not synthskin, they were designed solely for labor, not interaction.
Or had been, X reminded himself.
Well, this is a fun sight. Although I'd be keener if they were Mavericks instead of just plain joe schmoes.
X narrowed his vision.
"Something's not right here…" Sure enough, something wasn't. One by one, the series of hanged figures opened their mouths. X widened his eyes in surprise.
Christ, they're JURY RIGGED!!
Aah, now it all makes sense. It's not just decoration, el Mavericko has put plasma minicannons in their mouths. Which means they're a danger…although I have to give him credit. Surprised me for a moment.
How much you wanna bet they rely on motion detectors to aim?
The voice seemed to ponder it for a moment.
Well, worth a shot. Switch to a weapon that is solid and moves.
That'd be the Spin Wheel. Calmly, X tried to ignore the minicannons boring down onto him and calmly switched his Buster. Not moving in the slightest, he accessed the firing mechanism and gave the trigger a slight pull.
The Spin Wheel forged itself via the tiny matter replicators inherent to his Buster, then dropped to the ground and began spinning up a charge.
The minicannons in the dead reploid's mouths activated and whined up to power, unleashing their fury where the Spin Wheel stood.
Or had stood a moment before, as it tore off to unknown regions within the junkyard's warehouse structure.
Well, there's your chance. Switch back over to normal and let 'em have it before they re-target!!
For once, I don't need you to tell me what to do.
X's armor went back to its normal blue and white, and then he sprayed the ceiling with devastating plasmafire. The jury rigged reploid carcasses vanished away from the barrage, and once again X was left standing alone. He stared up towards the door he'd come from, and noticed a security camera. Frowning, he stared at it.
"Where there's a camera, there's a Maverick watching. Nice tricks, bub. But it takes more than tricks to take me down." He calmly raised his Buster again and blew the camera away.
Moving on, he stopped where his Spin Wheel had ended its trip. Strangely enough, it had seemed to bury itself into the floor slightly.
Well, here's something interesting. When in a junkyard, you dig for gold.
Or Sub-Tanks.
X unleashed a few more Spin Wheels into the buried shaft, turning the blockage to rubble enough so that he could make his way down.
Two minutes later, he popped back out of the hole, with only his head unadorned in shimmering white, gold, and red armor.
He took a moment to look at himself.
I'd say this set's looking niftier than the last one.
Oh? Why is that?
Before, you looked like some sort of freakin' Paladin on a Holy Quest for Mary's handkerchief or something. Hell, now you're an imposing bringer of death bristling with power.
Yes, the G-Crush. But how good will it do in battle?
Get into one and find out.
You'll leave when I'm done with all this?
And not a moment before then. I know, I know, you hate me, you question your own sanity. Don't. I'm just the voice of someone who doesn't want to see you get wiped across the tarmac.
Someone dead?
Depends on the definition of 'death.'
All right. The Maverick who's running this show??
Oh, he's dead. The voice replied drily. X couldn't help but smile at that.
"I don't get it…" Morph Moth whispered in disbelief. "How could he have known…??" Those hanged reploids had been set up to look like mere decorations. How could X have known they presented a danger? By all accounts, he should have taken mild to moderate damage from their barrage, yet now he walked on…and according to the security cameras X HADN'T blown up yet, wearing new armor. Not just his feet and hands now, no. His chest as well.
The new armor seemed far different than anything that Maverick could recall laying his eyes on. Aside from the white sheen and the obvious colorations and markings, there seemed to be an air about it. Morph Moth pondered it for a moment before realizing that there was only one way to test exactly what the Maverick Hunter was capable of.
X was moving along at a clipped and steady pace, his Buster unleashing plasma fury when the need be. And soon, he would approach a room filled with junk…but more than junk.
It also contained his latest piggybacking robot, still unused in its stasis tubule. The room also held a decrepit old robot standing more than six feet in height, with imposing armor even in its state of disuse that was potent enough to deflect plasma, if hit wrong. Morph couldn't help but smile.
"Yes…We'll test X's abilities out." Calmly, he tapped in a series of commands into the keyboard of his lair. The monitor displaying his active units in green, and his destroyed ones in red lit up with another signature as a pulsating green flared up only a corridor away from the approaching blue signature.
That would be X, continually observed by Morph Moth's cameras.
Well, not his. The junkyard's.
Morph didn't think the dead humans buried behind the building would mind.
X came through the empty doorframe with his senses on high alert. No hanging reploids, no garakuta junk robot wheels, and no Disk Boys were in the room.
Still, its very design made the Hunter tense up and narrow his eyes.
This doesn't feel right.
Hot damn!!
What?
I didn't need to tell you that for once. Good job!!
Oh, please. I'm talking to myself here. I'm not asking for advice from you.
Sure enough, X tuned the voice in his head out and looked about the large sized room more carefully. There was plenty of suspicious articles around. Like the large and decrepit old robot lying over in the far corner of the room, deactivated and useless. Or so the Maverick in control of the junkyard would have X think.
It was the sound of cracking glass…or high tempered plastics, X wasn't sure…but it definitely drew his attention away from the old wreck lying prominently in the room.
The cracking sound was coming from a green glowing stasis tubule…and something was coming out of it. X braced himself and began to charge up his Buster.
Finally, the cracks in the clouded container blew outwards as shards of the protective barrier clattered to the junk strewn ground with an odd combination of clinking and dull thuds. The figure within emerged.
X blinked a few times at the oddity. It was a small robot, colored pink, with seemingly little combat ability. His guard fell down as the tiny creature clumsily hopped down to the ground and whirred its head left and right. All in all, it sort of resembled an insect.
Any thoughts?
That's one messed up piece of machinery. Waste of a stasis tubule too.
I don't know. There's more to this than we're supposed to think.
Exactly. Initial impressions are hardly the right ones when it comes to battle.
The tiny insectoid robot took a few clumsy hops away from X…
Towards the old decrepit robot left abandoned in the room's far corner.
As X watched, the tiny robot burrowed itself into the framework of the older, deactivated machine…
And then by some unknown power, managed to turn the juggernaut back on.
Like Lazarus in biblical texts, the behemoth rose from its grave by the touch of a figure few believed in. Only this Lazarus wasn't in the mood to shake a person's hand.
X's eyes couldn't help but widen as the massive metal beast came fully to its feet. It stood at least a good seven feet tall…probably more.
Well, there's the surprise.
Not a bad one. I just hope that thing's as clumsy as it is old.
Tiny rocket thrusters on the robot's backside lit up and it floated up into the air…
Then promptly flung itself down towards X in a kamikaze crash.
Yelping, the Hunter activated his dash thrusters and boosted out of the giant's way, feeling the impact of its landing as his feet touched ground again. He quickly raised his Busters and fired one, then another supershot. Two bright shining balls of plasma, a second purple wave roiling about the second blue shot flew on towards X's foe and struck dead on in its backside. The thrusters were knocked out of commission.
The robot itself remained undamaged.
SHEEIT…
Yeah, heavily armored drone. I'm surprised you didn't think of that contingency.
Oh, excuse me?! Whose life is on the line here, again?!
The robot took several plodding steps to turn itself around, not giving X much of a chance to build up another shot. While its thrusters, and therefore its aerial diving ability was shot, the thing still had enough momentum going for it with its powerful piston legs to hop about and try to crush X.
As far as X could see, the thing had only one weakness: the hole in its chest armor that the robot insect had crawled into.
"Oh, this twit's going down." X growled. "HARD."
The robot jumped closer and closer, each jump substantial but mostly vertical, his horizontal distance closing slowly. The time it took was more than enough for X to reach his peak charge.
Once more, two flaming balls of plasma were flung from the miniaturized heavy plasma cannons in X's arms. Only this time, the shots were more effective. The robot's insides were blown out of its back, and crumbled back into the dust.
Unharmed however, was the primary pink colored controlling insectoid. It danced about for a moment in the newly laden wreckage, then burrowed down into the compacted metal that served as the floor.
"Oh, Christ…" X muttered. "The one that got away."
Keep on your toes, he may come up for air.
Or blood.
Sure enough, the ground began to shake. X took a quick mental check of his Buster charge-Level 2- and waited.
The ground parted some distance away from X as a SECOND lumbering robot came back from the dead. X shook his head.
Just how many of these things are there?!
Plenty, as long as that little purple thing survives. May I suggest you try trying to wheedle it out of that robot like you did the last one and…
Using the G-Crush before it can escape?? Three steps ahead of you.
Before the old robot had time to react, X unleashed his green charge and followed it up with a barrage of smaller bursts. Sure enough, the robot crumpled over and began to spout smoke as the internal mechanics were destroyed.
And like before, the purple robot found that escape from its shell was the best option.
Unlike before, X was somehow hovering in the air with every single limb curled up inwards towards his chest. A low growl began to rustle about in his throat, then grew louder until at last he screamed.
A powerful locus of light flashed outwards from his glittering chest armor, surrounding the curled up Maverick Hunter in a brief protective barrier. Finally, he flung his arms and legs outwards until he was splayed against the air like a rag doll.
But the effect was potent enough. A powerful energy explosion from within flew outwards in all directions, the built up plasma charge eating away at everything with far more intensity and stamina than what his Buster could throw.
The old robot, despite its initial damage was completely blown apart by the maelstrom. And the pitiful little pink armored insect robot, with a knack for resurrecting decrepit piles of scrap, was flung against the far wall before the plasma explosion caused it to explode in a smaller, but noticeable puff of energy and smoke.
X dropped back down to the floor and drew in a breath.
Every inch of the room was scarred in blackness, charred by the pure power of the furious attack.
God help me…
WOW!! WHAT POWER! I'M LOVING IT! DO IT AGAIN, DO IT AGAIN!!!
Shaddap. X chided. The G-Crush works on a one shot system…I gotta get smacked around a bunch and let my armor absorb some blows before it'll function again.
Aw, Hell. That makes it pretty much useless! What good's an all powerful weapon that can blow apart foes in a single flash if you can't do it fifteen times over?!
I suppose it never occurred to you that it was built for dire emergencies??
X took a moment to shake his head sadly at the utter carnage and swear off the attack ever again unless he was on the verge of death. Then he calmly walked out the other side of the room and tried to keep a focus on the Maverick waiting for him at the end of this trip.
The Maverick waiting for him was waiting with wide eyes as he typed a message to go to the Central Computer Facility. His allies needed to be informed of this attack.
"Such power…in just one blow??!" Morph Moth shivered.
He didn't look forward to feeling its burning wrath himself.
Hazil checked the stats of Zero again, activating piece by piece of his body by power wires running rampant about him like a misplaced plate of spaghetti.
All results came up green. Aside for the head and control chip, which Hazil had left untouched as of yet for good reason, the rest of Zero was in perfect working order, its abilities increased many times past what he had held previously. All the same, the changes were a bit haphazard, and for the first time as he stared at the interior of Zero, Hazil had to whistle.
Yes, the Crimson Hunter wasn't the average reploid, and wasn't built like one. In almost every respect, his interior schematics and wiring were similar to X's. X had been the prototype of all reploids.
"So what does that make you then??" Hazil muttered. Zero didn't respond. Hazil unhooked the power connections and shrugged. Before he put blood into Zero—not a human's blood, which carries oxygen and nutrients, but the blood of reploids, which was purplish in color and carried pure energy in the nanobots ever present—He had to reconnect every single section of Zero. That meant his legs and lower torso went to his chest and arms, and his head went back where it belonged as well.
Hazil shook his head.
It was a bit morbid…compared to robots, who were merely plug and go in design, the workings of most reploids were far more complex. Built to look, think, and emulate humans, there came along with reploids the synthskin, present even UNDERNEATH the armor of some reploids like himself, not to mention the other bizarre workings.
Hazil had often thanked the late Doctor Light for giving X the ability to completely shift out of his armor and into more suitable clothes, such as a white shirt and blue jeans. That ability had been passed onto other reploids as well in the early generation of constructions. Newer reploids out today lacked this function, manufacturers leery to give a potentially dangerous foe the ability to blend in almost seamlessly with normal humans. While Hazil had the ability, he looked far too ludicrous, with his four arms and boxlike chest. Others however, could roam about in a normal manner, truly being what the reploids were supposed to be; robotic humans.
But that was beside the point, albeit a crucial diversion. A weaving of fake flesh and robotics, a reploid was not the easiest thing to rebuild. In fact, initial tests had shown the RAM cache's involuntary dump could be lessened if the reanimated reploid's control chip was reactivated slowly, instead of quickly. Hazil, wanting to preserve as much as he could of the original Zero, knew that patience would be his dearest friend.
"First things first." He clucked. "We stick your body together minus the head, stick the control chip IN the head, then apply some power to your head alone and give it the chance to fully reintegrate that blasted thing that makes you you." He grinned at the jumbled mess, feeling a little like Baron Von Frankenstein must have…if Mary Shelley's tale had been true, that is.
But screw Fiction. Hazil was pulling down the real deal. Cackling, he rubbed his hands together and turned to the wall clock.
"You're one screwy mysterious reploid Zero, but I'll be damned about that. You're being turned back into the menacing Maverick Hunter we all know you are, and as Cain, Bolt Eagle, and whoever the Hell made you is my witness, YOU'RE GONNA BY GOD LIVE!!"
Hazil liked the feeling he got when he said that. Sort of a tingly sensation. Of course, maybe it was just the situation. He liked saving lives.
This was a very important one.
Morph Moth sat back by his computer console, silently watching the glowing screen fill with data.
The reply back from Ice Fortress, properly routed through the Central Computer complex to not betray the signal source, was less than promising.
In summary, it simply said Morph Moth was on his own to deal with X.
"Well, there's a joyous occasion." The Maverick grumbled. "Onward marches the slayer of Sigma, eyes burning brightly as his Buster burns for my blood, and the best my base can say is 'good luck, chuck.' Screw 'em." He pushed the keyboard away, shaking his head disgustedly.
"Screw 'em." Morph took a moment to examine where X was.
Not far now. . .the wily Blue Hunter had found little problem in dealing with his second possessed Old Robot. . .And then had moved on past the spike pits and controlling insectoid bots of Morph's design with nary a problem. Even the massive green Super'Mech guarding the final stretch to the room below his current position was showing heavy dam. . .
Never mind, it had just been scrapped. Morph pounded an angry fist on his leg.
"I'm dead." He said quietly. He shrugged. There were worse ways to go, he supposed.
And then it gripped him. . .
His eyes grew hard and firm, and he clenched his fist up.
"You won't beat me, X. You won't." He stood up and watched his monitor again. X was fast coming.
Quietly, he opened the hole in the floor. . .the ceiling for the room below, and activated his battle pod. It chittered to life, its eyes flashing into existence for a moment before it quietly slipped down the hole on the end of a long metallic string.
Morph turned to his monitor, watching as the camera feed from his toy snapped to life.
X walked through the inner rotating gateway and stared at the device for a moment. Morph shut the roof hatch softly and waited.
"This can't be the Maverick in charge here…" X grumbled softly as the machine dropped to the ground and began to spin back and forth across the room madly, kicking up damaging scrap wherever it went.
Morph Moth couldn't believe how easily the drone was destroyed. It couldn't have taken X more than. . .forty seconds, tops?
And that weapon of his. . .
It had to be the Weapons Copy X had received from Flame Stag. It was powerful, all right. . .
And seeing as, like most everything he built, Morph Moth was made of malleable metal, that particular weapon, something Flame Stag had affectionately called the Speed Burner, would be devastatingly effective.
Still…
He was Maverick. He was part of a proud line of reploids that fought, and fought well. Fought to the death. And if X thought this would be an easy time, he was in for a big surprise.
Below, X jumped back in surprise as the ceiling exploded and collapsed in heavy chunks. He raised his Buster and blew away a section of flooring before it could crush him, then looked up above.
A figure, brightly colored and looking out of place with the rest of the room, flapped its metallic wings heartily to keep itself airborne.
X's face shifted into a frown and he readied his Speed Burner, now down to 60% power.
"Now YOU're the Maverick running the show."
"That I am." Morph said calmly. "The name's Morph Moth…I created those little insect-like robotic beauties you destroyed." X blinked a few times.
"Not bad engineering concepts…too bad you have to be Maverick."
"Something puzzled me, though." Morph Moth said warily, lifting an eyebrow. "Those Skeeters should only be able to control the movements of robots…tests on reploids proved negative."
"Well, the answer lies in the simple fact that I'm not a reploid." X shot back. "I'm the prototype for all reploids."
"Aah." Morph Moth said, realizing the grievous error in his ways. No wonder X was affected…he was nothing more than the robotic prototype for reploids. "so it could be said in a sense, you're the father of reploids?"
"Yes." X growled.
"And now you hunt your children." Morph said drily. "How wonderful."
"Just die." X muttered, raising his Buster and firing.
And the fight began.
Agile had been changed.
Before, he'd been cocky, self-assured…confident.
Now, he merely hid in the still yet uncompleted Ice Fortress and bided his time, overseeing the construction and watching their supposedly successful Second Maverick Uprising crumble away just as quickly as the first had.
"Sir? Sir Agile?"
"Huh?" The tall reploid blinked his red beyond red optics and looked down at a smaller Maverick construction director staring up at him expectantly.
"Yes?"
"The sewer system is in place, and as per your specifications, we've set it up to be the second ring of the Fortress."
"Good. And the first and third?"
"Those are also in place." The Maverick paused. "But we're not quite sure what to do for the inner ring."
"We haven't exactly planned it out that far." Agile sighed in exasperation. At the moment, he didn't really feel like doing much of anything. "Keep me informed, sergeant. I'm going to return to the main command chamber." The Maverick clicked his boots together and saluted, then marched off. Agile shook his head, then plodded off.
He collapsed into the padded seat that served as the command chair for the very heart of Ice Fortress's passageways. From here, he could see everything that happened in the expansive structure, direct workers and warriors, and communicate with other Mavericks.
Yet it sat useless and barely activated now, there was nothing to be turned on, no communications to be sent. The only program running was a continuous scan of the still functional Maverick Generals.
Four of the eight portraits had gone dim since December 19th.
Wheel Gator…
Overdrive Ostrich…
Wire Sponge…
Flame Stag…
Not to mention the fact that that damnable Hunter X had managed to wipe the floor with every single X-Hunter…himself included, Agile winced as he tried to block out the painful memory of losing at the warrior's dead eyes and steady hands.
And as he snapped free from that memory, a sudden blinking alerting him on the screen.
As his stunned eyes watched, the icon for Morph Moth blinked out.
"Damn, no…" And his report, which had arrived only minutes before hadn't been good.
X somehow had an incredible new ability that hurled plasma death in every direction…
And Morph Moth was dead.
"DAMN THAT X!!" Agile bellowed, slamming his fist onto the armrest of his chair and then slumping backwards. His eyes stared into the monitor, glazed over.
"There's just nothing we can do…Except wait for X to come and kill us all."
The screen chose that moment to flicker and blink, the portraits and map of Cornus Island fading away from view and leaving nothing but a lit, black screen that filled the room with its eerie glow.
"What the…?" Agile muttered, pulling himself up straight and reaching for the keyboard.
Greenish text rolled across the screen before his hand reached the manual input device, stopping him dead in his tracks.
Now that doesn't sound like a feared Maverick leader to me. You disappoint me, Agile.
"WHAT THE…" Agile said loudly, his surprise evident.
Now tell me, were you always this much of a coward and never bothered to tell anyone, or did this yellow streak down your damnable back develop over time?
"Just WHO the Hell are you?!" Agile demanded, typing his response in with angry chicken peck typing.
The screen wiped itself clean again, and remained blank for a few more moments.
Then the reply scrolled back across in five…separated…distinct…imposing…letters.
"Oh my God…" Agile muttered in shock, stepping back and collapsing into his chair as he stared agape at the lettering.
Once more, the screen wiped clear and the presence returned to its normal typing.
You don't know how difficult it was for me to find you…drifting about as little more than a few Megabytes on the net is not the best way to spend one's time. Especially when you're always running into Coca-Cola advertisements, which I can assure you, I've seen enough of to last me a lifetime.
"But why now…Why now, after all this…"
Because I have to move slowly. Otherwise, people would notice. But now that I've found you, things are going to change, my dear Maverick. For one, your sickening defeatist attitude. Don't you realize that what makes X strong is his warrior's will? As long as he sees an enemy in front of him, an enemy he can truly hate, he will win.
"I think that's evident now." Agile muttered softly.
Aah, but that's just the trick, Agile. I've been watching Magnus's research, and I have found a way to stop X cold in his tracks.
"What do you mean??" Agile said warily. "Some new kind of weapon??"
No, far from it. As a matter of fact, it's quite old…Quite old indeed…
The voice on the screen seemed to almost be gloating.
"What is it then?"
Not an it. A who.
The presence who had downloaded himself into Ice Fortress's computer banks softly gave Agile the plan.
For one, only Agile would be aware of the presence. No one else could know.
Two, the Maverick Generals would continue to lead their operations, and if X came and took them out…it was just another cost of war.
Three, the ghost in the computer told Agile exactly what he would build in the fourth ring.
Four, just what the presence meant when he said the weapon to stop X was a WHO.
And five…That the plan was foolproof.
Agile felt a grin seeping back into his somber face.
"It can work!"
Of course it can, you fool. Don't doubt that for a moment. Now, we need only implement it. And time is of the essence.
"Yes, of course." Agile chirped, snapping up from his seat and nodding. "I shall go see to the inner circle modifications now." He dashed off, his bizarre attitude once more regained.
The presence in Ice Fortress's computers seemed to think for a moment longer, then as an afterthought, it sent one final message to the screen.
I'm coming for you, X. I'm coming for revenge.
And then the screen went dark.