Like a good communist, I own nothing.
"Gauntlet: Crucible"
Part 6
May 4.
I feel sorry for them. I know Boomer wouldn't like it if I told him that, so I keep quiet. Boomer is always so angry, and he doesn't want anyone to see it. It's eating him up. I don't know much about his brothers, except what he told me and what I sort of saw. Butch was so mean, but he's like Buttercup: scared. And Brick, I feel the most sorry for him. He's so... dead inside, like he never really came back to life. Was what we did to them so horrible?
Bubbles.
Bubbles rarely thought of the fight.
It had been over very quickly, it seemed. Originally, she had found it odd that she had been directly paired off with the toughest, meanest Rowdyruff. She had expected to fight Boomer. Instead, Butch had come at her with all the subtlety and finesse of a hurricane. Bubbles wasn't an idiot. She had been in enough fights to know how to handle herself, and when it came to Butch, distance was her friend.
If only it had been that easy.
He had overcome her like the wind, and grabbed onto her head. She spent the next few minutes looking at his hands, his forehead (painful headbutts), several different brick walls, half the main street thoroughfare, and a couple other objects: A mailbox, a telephone pole, a couple signs, a fire hydrant (that had really hurt) and a bunch of cars. In retrospect, after seeing Butch snarling like an angry bear woken after a few week's peaceful hibernation, getting smashed around wasn't to terrible. At least nothing had been broken.
And she was alive.
No, her defeat hadn't really bothered Bubbles.
It was when she had woken up, and everything was still dark, that she had panicked. The last time the Rowdyruff Boys had wailed on her, she had looked up and seen, aside from a massive ditch that she was lying in, the grieving people of Townsville. This time there was no one.
In the night, she saw all the monsters that had plagued Townsville.
And new ones.
Horrible ones that gave the others pause, and even fear.
They danced on the edge, on the periphery, of her vision and her imagination. She had seen what looked like a square and a circle, floating over the planet... a monster, a shark, with a million pearly teeth and no eyes, a hunchbacked creature spawning a trillion ravenous young, too small to see, yet eating everything... there was a massive spider, all legs, straddling the entire city. Then, worse than all the others combined, a creeping feeling, all across her skin - another one of the THEM, trying to get inside her. To BE her. That one was the most terrifying, and when it inevitably came, she screamed long and loud, all into the night, until her throat was dry, or until she felt the light touch her skin, burning it away and back into the nether.
Those four days had been horrific beyond Bubble's capacity to describe.
But she kept quiet.
She always kept quiet when it came to things like this.
If she told Boomer, he might not visit her, and she wouldn't like that. He brought the light. And deep down in him, hidden and twisted, she saw something like herself. Boomer loved the dark and the night. It invigorated him. It hid him from himself.
Bubbles opened her eyes, not feeling sleepy or tired.
A soft glow, faint but present, came from a single candle on the floor.
It was a little blue birthday candle, the kind stuck into cakes. Boomer had returned, late at night, the very day she had asked for it, and given it to her. There was a softness there that he quickly hid, quickly shrouded. She had asked him if he wanted to talk to her, and he had hid his excitement at the opportunity. Bubbles didn't say much to him, but she listened.
She did a lot of that.
She had, however, asked some more about her sisters. Bubbles was worried for them, especially Buttercup. Buttercup wasn't like Bubbles - she didn't have faith or belief in what she couldn't see and feel and know. She didn't grasp the intangibles. Blossom wasn't much better. She tried to rationalize everything, and over examined herself and others. She had probably spend the last ...week or so (Bubbles figured) blaming herself, like she tended to do when no one else was around. Bubbles hoped that Brick was kind to her, but she doubted the red Rowdyruff still possessed that trait.
She heard footsteps, and knowing who it was, looked on as Boomer paused at the bars separating Bubbles from freedom. With hardly a look to the side, he turned off the energy grid, and opened the bars. With a grin, he tossed her something small and blue. She caught it in midair.
It was a comb.
"Hey," He said, in an experimental tone. "You in the mood for saving the world... or what?"
She looked down at the comb, then back at him.
"I am now," She said, clutching it tightly. Then, to his obvious shock and even horror, she smiled at him.
He looked over his shoulder, avoiding her.
"Good! Let's go!" He marched off, and didn't look back.
"Blossom! Bubbles!"
"Buttercup! Blossom!"
"Bubbles! Buttercup!"
"Ohmygoditssogoodtoseeyouareyouokitwassodarkand..."
Brick, Boomer, and Butch frowned at each other as the three girls embraced and jumped up and down, showing far more energy than they had since... They just frowned. Butch and Boomer, specifically, were slightly nervous. Brick, however, was confident: both in himself, his plans, and them. That confidence seeped through his gaze, and Butch and Boomer relaxed slightly.
They were in the middle of Mojo's Observatory, in the wide-open area that Mojo normally used for (lame) traps and as a sort of weapon's testing range. Presently, only a small projector lay in the middle of the room. Mojo Jojo himself was at one of the corners, watching the assembled event with a most displeased look to him. He had been furious at Brick, and for a few tense seconds, Boomer had thought that they would come to blows before they came to an agreement. Mojo backed down, warily, however, and let Brick have his way. The blue Rowdyruff had no doubt that Mojo was hoping Brick would fail.
Again.
The rift between favored son and father had only widened over the last few days. Things were about to go from bad to worse... provided they even survived the next few hours. Near the center of the place, the reunited Powerpuff Girls were still hugging and celebrating with each other. It was something Boomer felt very uncomfortable watching.
Why weren't they attacking them?
Why were they helping?
He looked to Brick, the leader, the planner... the schemer. The red ruff didn't look surprised at all. Instead, he had his 'game face' on: a cold and calculating look to him. It was comforting, in a way, because Boomer trusted Brick explicitly, and so did Butch, but it was slightly unnerving, too, in a totally different way. Brick hadn't gotten really angry since the first fight with the Powerpuff Girls, when his assumption of them (as sissies that would give up after a single blow) had been shattered. Now, if Brick raised his voice, he was simply to get a point across and demand attention, not because he was actually venting.
It was ...troubling.
After a few uncomfortable minutes, the girls settled down somewhat. Blossom, naturally, was the first to return to the situation at hand. She looked at Mojo, briefly, before facing Brick. She obviously knew where the authority in the room was, and Boomer noted that her dismissal of the mad genius had only deepened his scowl. Still, Boomer supposed, better to cut through the diplomatic bull and deal with Brick directly than to endanger all their lives just to appease Mojo's ego.
"Ok," she said, with much of her old confidence back, hands on her hips. "What's the big deal? Monster, right?"
"No need for queue cards with this one." Brick smiled, despite the trace of annoyance in his tone. He looked ...off without his hat. The bandages around his head were a poor substitute, though fashion conscious as always, Brick had tied an extra bit of the white wrap about his temple, like a bandanna, so it hung loose and long over his right shoulder.
"All right," Brick began, and walked up to the display in the center of the room. He tapped a button, and the first slide activated: a holographic image resolved in the air. It was a picture of a perfect sphere, all black, with no openings, moving over the water without causing a ripple.
"Three hours ago, this... creature... was sighted by a naval reconnaissance EP-3E Aries II..." Brick noticed Bubbles total incomprehension. Buttercup was nodding, however. "...An airplane, basically. As you may or may not know, the military maintains a number of sonar probes around the approaches to Townsville from where most monsters come."
"You mean Monster Island." Blossom interjected.
"Yes. This one was not detected however..."
Boomer frowned a bit as Brick said that last part. Their leader had somehow known beforehand that something was approaching. Boomer knew about the sonar system, and the orbiting satellites that monitored Monster Island, but neither had detected this one. Boomer shook his head, dismissing his cynicism. Maybe Brick had a new power, or really good hunches, or something like that. It could also be nothing. A good guess on his part.
"...It entered the Townville area, via the docks, two hours ago," Brick continued. Another picture appeared: the floating orb over the docks. "As per Standard Procedure, the military held off making an attack on it to give the resident... superheroes a crack at it first. Professional courtesy, I suppose."
He pressed the button again. "We moved to intercept it..."
Boomer winced at the picture that appeared. The black orb was still floating, this time over the boardwalk next to the docks, and there was an extremely thin fuzzy white beam coming out of its smooth surface. It passed cleanly through several buildings, leaving wide, molten, circular holes in them, hitting something next to Mojo's Observatory, in midair, and passing off into the horizon.
"To little effect." Brick closed his eyes. "We were attacked less than a second after leaving the building. The beam from it only nicked me... I have little doubt that a full on shot would have melted right through."
Buttercup looked fiercely at the holographic picture.
"An untouchable enemy?" She grinned. "We faced something like that. ...With eyes."
"This one doesn't have eyes." Bubbles said the obvious.
Buttercup's grin faded.
"Has it attacked the city?" Blossom asked.
"No." Brick said, slowly. "But, as I was about to say, we soon discovered that things were about to get much worse. Pops... Mojo's sensors performed an exhaustive scan of the creature, and detected an energy buildup within it, of an unknown origin."
"What sort of energy build up are we looking at?" Blossom asked, the obvious danger and urgency of the situation both exciting and challenging her: a chance at redemption, perhaps. For once, she and Brick were thinking the same thing.
"Roughly," Mojo answered, and continued with unusual succinctness. "Eight point four times ten to the twenty two joules, delivered over one millisecond. Roughly equivalent to twenty thousand gigatons of explosive force and an unknown fraction of thermal radiation."
There was silence.
"That's a lot, right?" Bubbles asked, breaking the tension.
"Needless to say," Brick coughed to clear his throat. "This is more than enough to completely annihilate Townsville, and ...everything nearby. I don't think the effects of the explosion need to be gone into in detail."
Blossom looked at Buttercup and Bubbles. "I agree."
"One hour and forty minutes ago, after numerous helicopters and civilian planes had been shot down, three life size replicas of us were launched... thrown... from the Observatory as an experiment," Brick pressed another button. Another picture of the black orb replaced the last one, this time blasting one of the flying dummy-Rowdyruffs (The blue one) in midair. Brick pressed the button again. Another picture, this one of the orb blasting the red psudo-Rowdyruff. A few feet away, the blue one was a flaming cloud. Click. Another picture of the green one being destroyed next to the (formerly) red one... the blue one was a dispersing mist.
"This led to some good news, and some bad news. The good news is that it can only fire one beam at a time. The bad news is that it has a very high rate of fire. Attacking in numbers, and from different angles, will have no positive impact. However... every blast does slow the accumulation of energy, meaning that the weapon and the... bomb inside it share a power source. Mojo's initial estimate gave us only four hours before it achieved a sort of critical mass. We have stretched that to seven." Brick noted that no one looked impressed. "...And twenty minutes." He added. No effect.
"Er..." Buttercup said something. "Why isn't it attacking us, now? It can obviously shoot through buildings and stuff."
"It only fires at threats." Brick pressed the button again. He was getting to that himself. The display showed a camouflaged mobile missile battery, far outside the city. Brick pressed the button again, this time of the missiles starting to launch. Then again, to the picture of a lance of white light immolating the entire launcher. Then to a picture of an oblique flaming crater.
"Additional good news is that the weapon is light of sight only..." Brick put up another picture, this one of two Navy battleships, firing with relative impunity. "Those sixteen inch rocket-propelled shells are beyond visual range weapons, meaning they fire over the horizon in an arc. They are keeping up a constant accurate barrage towards Townsville, where the creature has stopped, and is fully engaged in destroying the volleys of shells as they approach it. This is what is buying us time."
"Why here?" Bubbles said, somewhat angry at the whole situation. She was frowning at the black orb hanging over Townsville.
"I don't know..." Brick said, and set it sink in. "No one does. This is not normal behavior, which leads some - myself and Mojo included - to doubt that this came from Monster Island. We have... also consulted with your Professor, albeit reluctantly."
"Why reluctantly? The Professor is a genius!" Blossom looked at Mojo.
"Don't blame him. The Professor thinks we killed you. Naturally, he would sour at a cooperative effort," Brick answered very smoothly. Boomer got the odd feeling that the little speech was rehearsed. Brick clicked the projector one more time, bringing up an overhead map of Townsville, and the location of the black orb, over a relatively level and nondescript part of the city.
"That's it. Any suggestions would be of great help. We have a six-hour deadline. That's enough time to visit your Professor, take a bath, get something to eat... do whatever you need to do." Brick didn't add: 'make peace' but it was implied.
"So that's why we're free to go." Buttercup crossed her arms and 'hmfed.'
"We'll meet again in an hour," Blossom said, firmly.
Brick slowly smiled at that. "So you'll be coming back, then?"
"Of course!" Blossom nodded. "Townsville needs us!"
"Couldn't have said it better myself." Brick turned to Butch and Boomer. "Let's go. By the way, girls, you can walk around without a problem. But I wouldn't advise flying anywhere."
"Better make that two hours, then," Blossom grumbled. The boys quickly left, and Mojo went with them, still silent and brooding. Bubbles just looked up at the projection, still visibly angry. This wasn't a monster out to just destroy Townsville, or challenge them personally. It was going to kill itself, and destroy everything. People, animals, plants... Bubbles found herself hating the black thing that she hadn't even seen with her own eyes. It was a new feeling that she really wasn't happy with.
"So you think they'll be back? Butch asked, as they walked.
"The Girls?" Brick laughed. "Oh, they'll be back. You couldn't stop Blossom from trying to take this thing on... and I'd wager Buttercup wants a piece of the glory, too."
"Even after all we did to them?"
"Oh yes. After that, and all they did to themselves." Brick looked behind them, making sure Mojo wasn't still following. "They're still the Powerpuff Girls. I wouldn't have them any other way. Only now... after this... I'm confident they'll prove more malleable than before."
"What about Bubbles?" Boomer asked.
"What about her? She'll follow her sisters." Brick faced forward while he talked. "I'm sure of it."
"You've got it all worked out, huh?" Boomer forced his tone into the ultra-sarcasm range.
"Most of it, yes," Brick responded with a laugh.
"So... what are we going to do now?" Butch spoke up. Where was Brick leading them?
"Right now..." Brick looked down at his right hand and formed it into a fist. "I'm going to pray. 'Cause we're probably going to need every scrap of help we can get."
Professor Jonathan Utonium was not a vengeful man.
He was also not a happy man, presently, nor had he been for roughly a week. It had been five days since his girls had left to investigate a disturbance in Townsville that had sounded suspiciously like the Gangrene Gang. He had waited for them to come home that night, and to pass the time, and hopeful of catching a glimpse of his pride and joy at work, he had turned on the Late Night News.
He had been treated to a story covering the defeat and disappearance of the Powerpuff Girls at the hands of three assailants, identified as the previously thought dead Rowdyruff Boys. Still, the Professor knew, the Girls could well handle most any situation, even one so precarious. Aside from alerting the already alerted authorities, he had little to contribute. The feelings of helplessness, however, were not unfamiliar, and he maintained the illusion that his Girls would eventually return, happy and triumphant.
They had not.
It was then that Professor Utonium's nature... shifted. He was not a vengeful man by nature, but there existed many who were. The Townsville police were afraid... afraid of Mojo Jojo, and afraid of the Rowdyruff Boys, and when the Rowdyruff's began to actively fight crime, the police were more than willing to accommodate them and overlook the crimes that the boys themselves committed. It was hardly surprising, from a rational standpoint. Better to live with an evil that you cannot defeat, than to fight it, foolishly, and die.
But through the eyes of a parent who had lost his children...
It was a betrayal.
The Girls had given too much, sacrificed too much, for Townsville to be... tossed away like a sack of garbage or replaced like an old appliance. They had been betrayed for convenience and cowardice. Yet, there were those who still loved the Girls, still OWED them for past debts. Some of these men and women knew how to fight, and if they chose to fight for vengeance against a band of murderers, who was he to sit by and not aid them?
Of course, they all failed.
Not one Rowdyruff Boy had fallen.
Not one had paid for what they did.
It was frustrating, and the Professor had no doubt it was something close and akin to how Mojo felt half the time. So, naturally, he had been a bit cranky when the mutated simian and his pack of jackals had made an audience of themselves, asking for his aid against the Townsville Threat-Of-The-Day. Fools! Did they think he wasn't aware of what was going on outside his Lab? Did they imagine that he had lost touch with all reality?
The Professor closed his eyes, squeezed them tightly shut.
He was working, working on what needed to be done. But he didn't want to look at the face. It was too... His ears caught the doorbell, muffled though the sound was by his earplugs. A frown on his features, he went upstairs and passed through the kitchen. On the way, his eyes caught an almost empty pack of coffin nails, and he quickly lit on up.
"This better not be you again, Smith!" He yelled at the door at the bell rang again. "Because if it is, you..."
He opened the door.
Blinking a few times, his cigarette hanging loosely to his lower lip, Professor Utonium seriously began to doubt his sanity. They were all there: worn, tired, obviously quite dirty, but... there. Just standing there. Looking at him. Reaching down, he waved a hand in front of the Blossom image. Amazingly, a small hand reached up and caught his. It felt... warm.
Alive.
"g... girls?" he gulped, his mouth dry. "This..."
"PROFESSOR!!" The jumped him all at once, and he ended up sprawled on the floor while they talked and hugged and kissed him all at once.
Can't be... real?
No.
It was real. Something deep inside, beyond instinct, screamed that it was. Tentatively, afraid that, like clouds, they would fall apart if touched, he embraced them. When he felt only them, not some ethereal cloud-stuff, his eyes began to water, and his embrace tightened into a life saving vice. For they had saved his life. They truly had.
"MY GIRLS!" He gasped, and held them to him.
He didn't care how this had happened.
He didn't care at all how.
Only that it did. Only that it had.
For the second time, he was the luckiest man on earth.
But knowing what he knew, he had to wonder: For how long?
