Whoopie! It's chapter 2! Macross-Green, to answer at least some of your questions briefly: The year's 20XX, Cutman and Topman have known each other, as well as the other robots, for a long time, and Wily won't be in this story. (And I doubt he'll be around for most of my other stories, at least.) Also, the fic is AU in a way that some of the Robot Masters' appearances, probably expected personalities, and if I end up explaining it inner "robotic" skeletal systems are changed.
Thank you, DeathMist, Electric Ammo, Macross-Green, and PRIVATE for the reviews:D You make me smile:) (((I feel pretty, I feel pretty. I feel- is shot)))
And to spoil a bit of the story, but not in a "I'm-a-tellin'-you-stuff-that'll-spoil-a-bunch-of-the-actual-story" –type of way, some parts of Cutman's past is revealed. . Ooh.
Enjoy:)
"Cut…man? Where were you all this time," Crashman asked shakily, but with a smile on his face.
I felt unsure about how to explain this. So I just whispered, more to myself rather than Crashman, "I was here all along."
True, it has been a while since I've seen the other Robot Masters, let alone Crashman. After I was abandoned in the basement, Topman must have deactivated me when I didn't know what was coming. Now, after several years, exactly how long I don't know, I finally found someone. Someone to touch… Someone to love.
"It's been years, Cutman! I'm just so excited to see you," Crashman cried with tears in his eyes as he laid his head against my chest and tried to catch his breath. "I need your help! I-it's-"
He was suddenly interrupted by a crash from behind us. I turned around to see, standing on top of a pile of rubble from creating a hole in the wall, was a humanoid robot with light green armor on his upper body, arms, and legs, along with a matching helmet with a small black and white propeller on the forehead. But what makes him stand out were the skid-like feet and the large black and white propeller on his back. A white, metallic mouthpiece covered his mouth, but I could see the determination burning inside his sharp brown eyes.
As he stepped down from the debris, he eyed me as he said with a bit of an Italian accent, "Well, well, well. If it isn't the former 'Matador of the Moon'."
"Former? What do you mean by that, Gyroman?" I glared into the green robot's eyes.
"Tsk, tsk. Didn't you hear? You've been wiped of… forgotten… in this world." Gyroman, with a sheet of paper suddenly appearing onto his hand, he gave the paper to me. I skimmed it and saw that the paper happened to be a short clip from a newspaper.
Feeling a bit uncertain, I started to read the article, and it said:
"'20 years ago, he was once a timber feller. Then six years later, he mysteriously disappeared. Now, fourteen years later, some wonder, 'Where has Cutman gone? Is he still alive? Will he make a comeback?'
Built by Dr. Light under the Android number DRN003 20 years ago, Cutman was quite the mysterious type. Most people do not know what he's really like, nor have they seen his real face from underneath his mask. Known by many names like 'the Midnight Blade', 'Master of Many Blades', and 'Matador of the Moon', he somehow picked up the Mexican heritage and language, which gives him a Spanish tongue, as well as the skills of an expert bullfighter.
Unfortunately, his 'native' language made him almost unable to understand much English. Fortunately, when Light built DRN007, Elecman, Cutman seemed to have found someone to communicate with, as well as someone who can translate his foreign words. Seeing as that Elecman speaks both English and Spanish, Cutman steadily learned short, simple English words and sentences, and then slowly progressed to longer, more complicated words.
But five years after several defeats by Megaman, Dr. Light's and Dr. Wily's laboratories both suffered from a nuclear explosion, rumored that the Robot Masters might've planned this, and all of the Robot Masters had split up to different regions of the world. During this incident, Cutman and Elecman, along with most of the Robot Masters, seem to have just disappeared to thin air, as they weren't witnessed anywhere around the world. But approximately two weeks later, they were found in a small city named 'Coloratown', located on an island not found on a map.
About a year after the reappearance of the Robot Masters, Cutman has disappeared mysteriously once again, and on the same night that a house on Coloratown went aflame. As a witness to the burning, Elecman unfortunately became too shaken to answer the interrogations as to Cutman's whereabouts or the cause of the fire.
Now, fourteen years later, the Midnight Blade is still missing, and, like his dark-kept secrets from underneath his mask, his whereabouts are currently unknown and hopefully will soon be uncovered...'"
As I finished reading the last sentence, I clenched my fist, crumpling the bit of paper. "Cut the crap, Gyro! Why did you give me this?"
Gyroman chuckled at me and sneered, "Oh, nothing, really." Then he put his hands behind his back. "Just a little guessing game. Heh, heh. Behind by hands is a random weapon, courtesy of yours truly. You just choose a hand, and there's half a chance of it being most lethal, and half a chance it will be, well, not as lethal." He glared at me again, but mischievously.
I thought hard about which hand to choose: left or right. Gyro could be lying. Both weapons could be lethal, and he would…
I was interrupted by two short swords with wooden handles that were twice as long as the blades themselves hovered in front of me, both less than an inch close to touching my neck. Wielding the swords were none other than Gyroman, with a look of pleasure in his eyes. "Surprise. And game over."
But as he raised the swords horizontally to attempt to stab my neck, I immediately ducked out of the way, dashed a couple of steps ahead, and back-flipped high into the air, landing several feet behind Gyroman. As the lime-green aerial robot turned his face towards mine, I summoned two Rolling Cutters, round, scissors-like blades, between my fingers. Holding the two Rolling Cutters in-between my fingers in a face down position, I gestured him to come towards me with my bare left hand.
With a questioned look that then transformed to a sure, confident one, Gyroman, his propellers twisting at high speeds, flew into the air, summoned several green and white icicle-shaped bursts of light around him, all pointing at me. And with a sweep of his arm, scattered all the icicle-like bursts towards me. With the great amount of stamina I still held inside of myself from fourteen years at rest, I easily dodged the first set and hit him with my Rolling Cutters. But right after the last burst of light hit the ground and disappeared, Gyroman summoned larger, more powerful versions of the previous set, and aimed them at me once again. Unlike the smaller ones, these were extremely hard to dodge, and all except for the last two hit me.
Now scratched and bruised, I fell to my knees, catching my breath. Slowly lowering himself from the air by a few inches, Gyroman sneered, "My, my. Haven't as much gumption as you used to, have you?" Armed with a pair of Gyro Blades-small, black and white propeller-like blades, he charged towards me with almost blinding speeds.
As I tried to stand, using some of the little bit of energy I have, Gyroman started to hack and slash at me. By the seventh hit from the Gyro Blades, I quickly kneeled to swipe the eight-foot long broadsword and blocked the eighth. I retorted with a touch of determination, "Maybe. Maybe not. But it seems like the tables are about to turn." And then I tried to hack and slash at him.
Unfortunately, it seems like I keep missing him. Noticing this, Gyroman slid back several feet and insulted, "You say the tables will turn, but I see no difference. What's the matter, 'Matador'? Can't bear to hit me because you're afraid of hurting poor widdle Cwashman?" Laughing at his own joke, I eyed a detail that he never noticed and smirked.
Faking the feeling of defeat, I kneeled and laid my sword in front of me. "You know, Gyro, I guess you're the stronger one." I looked up to the aerial robot with a smile on my face. "But there's something wrong. Something very wrong."
"What do you mean by-" Gyro said until he noticed that one of his propellers was broken off. With sheer determination, he tried to fly, but failed. So, while he stands there helplessly, I slid and an uppercut from under him. Gyroman flew high and landed on his back not too far behind me. As I turned towards him and stared at his damaged self struggling to stand, Gyro snapped, "You… Why you little bastard!" And when he finally can support himself, he concluded, "You may have won now, but we'll meet again. You can promise that!" After his last word, Gyroman disappeared.
As I looked down and noticed the crumpled up article, I heard Crashman's voice call out to me from close by. I looked to my right and saw Crashman holding an old-looking page of a newspaper with a square-shaped hole on it. "Cutman, I found this nearby the hole on the wall when you were fighting Gyroman. I read it and saw this with it," he said as he pointed to another aged clipping. It looked like a "Wanted" poster from those old Wild West movies, with my picture, the word "Wanted" slapped onto the top, and the fat reward of 250 million under the picture.
It sounds kind of funny that not only did people want to know my deepest secrets, but that they wanted to make money off of my head, I thought to myself. "Well, whatever this is, and who made it, we'll search until we find out who, or until we die trying," I said to Crashman, with a hint of optimism in myself. Which must sound kind of unusual to the little red robot, considering I rarely sound happy when I speak.
