Chapter 162: Where It Will End (Part 3)
The City of Townsville. Outskirts. Lombardi Family Estate.
25 MAR (Saturday) 1989. 2258.
Flying into the long-necked samurai corpse of Mister Yamamoto, Blossom plunged her salvaged Duranium wakizashi in its chest before kicking it back, stumbling the 'flesh golem'. Anticipating that it would die from a short sword to the heart, Blossom flew over it - but it was far from done. The long neck of Yamamoto curled around her, catching her in mid-flight, and with a flex, threw her back. For just a brief moment, Blossom saw the cultist behind him, her eyes glowing red, her hands outstretched like a magician casting spells. She had thrown her hand forward exactly when Mister Yamamoto threw Blossom back with his tentacle-like neck.
Blossom was thrown into the ground. Old wood was splintered slightly as the floor sagged from the superhuman forces at play. She rolled on the ground for a distance, but she was able to brake herself by finding purchase in the broken floor.
The cultist who seemed to be behind this cackled like a witch. "Ah hahahaha! Do you really think it would be that easy? HE will never let you go, not until His will is done!" With that, the woman twirled her hands. Shadows loomed behind Blossom, who turned around to see the other two flesh golems, Master Pang and Naga, running up to her, brandishing staff and quad swords respectively. Blossom jumped into action once more when they raised their weapons in anticipation of a killing blow. Throwing kicks out in an arc, Blossom flew past them, flying past necrotic arms and lethal Duranium weapons largely unscathed, except that one of Naga's blades had nicked her in the cheek.
The sole fighting Powerpuff flew forwards once more, hoping to be able to escape forwards in the confusion… But Mister Minamoto was as fast as a mutated corpse as he was in life, swinging his twin katanas at her, and it was only because Blossom blew up a pink X-energy shield around her that the Duranium blows hadn't touched her - but the force did send her flying into an expensive wooden table, breaking it in half.
"Urrrgh…" Blossom groaned in pain. There was so much pain, so much constant pain. Yet she couldn't rest for long - the corpse of Master Pang was rushing her. Concentrating on the palm of her right hand, which she hid behind her, she formed a ball of fire in it, and when the master got close enough, she flung it at him, catching the flesh golem off-guard, burning up his robes. Without giving him time to react, Blossom shot at him like a bullet, tackling him and even taking him off his feet for yards. They rolled on the ground, and Blossom was able to get on top of him, and fling a few punches at his metal jaw, denting it, but then something rushed her; she saw blades whirling at her, which she blocked with her forearms, reinforcing them with small shells of X-energy.
But her shields were weak from exhaustion. The Duranium blades were able to cut through, slicing her forearms. Lines of blood followed the blades and splattered on the walls as Blossom rolled off Master Pang.
It was Naga - and she was as skilled as she was back when she was still alive and talkative.
Pain. That was all that was on her mind as she got on her knees. Looking at her trembling arms, she saw that each of her forearm had two cut wounds across, and they were bleeding heavily.
So much pain. While Blossom was sobbing and winching in pain, Naga got up close, her four arms winding up for the execution.
"So much for the great 'Blossom' of the 'Powerpuff Girls'," the cultist woman, who was next to Naga, said, her arms still outstretched as if controlling a puppet with strings. "The USDO should have aborted you when you were a fetus. The Master deserves better subjects to focus his attention on…"
Without wasting any further time, Naga brought her four swords down upon Blossom, who hid behind her already-bleeding arms.
Her Dad's face flashed before her eyes. Memories went by in an instant. Then regret in another instant. But then the falling swords did not come. Instead, there was the sound of a fight breaking out, familiar voices calling out and shouting. Gunshots.
Blossom stopped hiding behind her arms to look. Naga was gone. Looking around, she was the unmistakable X-energy contrails of Bubbles and Buttercup, as well as the form of a dog and a trench coat detective.
The City of Townsville. Outskirts. Lombardi Family Estate.
25 MAR (Saturday) 1989. 2252.
Not too long ago, Bubbles was still at the grand foyer. She had removed her first-aid kit from her belt and opened it. Lifting a pair of tweezers from the kit with a trembling hand, she hesitated for a moment before reaching into her gunshot wound reluctantly. As careful as she might have been, her trembling hand had other ideas. She could feel the metallic, needle-like tips of her tweezers almost immediately. Wincing in pain, Bubbles pulled it back out immediately. Frustrated, she tried again, but frustration had a way of making one clumsy.
Perhaps she had used too much force, or perhaps she had agitated a nerve, but this time, it'd hurt even worse. Screaming in pain, Bubbles pulled it out and slammed the pair of tweezers down, crying.
"I'm so useless…" Bubbles cried. "I can't do anything right… Buttercup is right…"
Terrible memories resurfaced. Her past mistakes, the development of the vice she had been fighting even now, the terrible experiences she had in The Strip, while fighting crime… But it all gave her an idea. She felt for something she'd picked up on Monster Island and found it in her pocket. Reaching inside, she found a cylindrical object and pulled it out. It was a syringe, though the needle, previously sheathed in a plastic cap, was broken during the fight. Miraculously, the syringe itself was intact, and in it, the drug His Secret 2.0 was still brimming, dark as the night, slick as oil.
Nice to see you again, Bubbles… The ethereal drug seemed to speak to her with the voice of The Fairy Godmother.
Yes… Good that you've thought of me. Just a little bit, Bubbles. It will help you, yes? It tempted her.
Take it, Bubbles… Take it. What choice is there even, yes? Take it and it'll be fun, and you get to save your sisters too! It continued to try to break down the barrier in her.
"But what if-"
What if you can't heal yourself? What if you can't reach your sisters and join their fight? What if they DIE because you're too afraid to do the right thing? What if the Amoeba Boys get away with everything they have done? The voice from nowhere and somewhere lectured her, beating her down with one point after another, beating down her wall…
And Bubbles let the Fairy Godmother do it. Pushing the syringe into her mouth, she squirted the fluid into her mouth and swallowed. She would have drank the whole thing had it not been for her reluctance. Instead, she had only taken half of it. Shivering and closing her eyes, Bubbles tried not to let herself enjoy it, reminding herself that what she was doing was wrong… yet it was right - it was the only thing she could do. She forced herself to be bitter about it as she waited for the effect to kick in… until she felt nothing but joy at the return of the euphoric feeling of contentment, the adrenaline rush that accompanied the expansion of her capabilities.
Opening her eyes once more, Bubbles caught sight of her red, glowing eyes in the reflection of a half-broken window. For a second, she couldn't remember what to do beyond destroying more enemies, but the (much reduced) pain in her chest reminded her of her current impediment. Picking up her tweezers clumsily, Bubbles shoved it into her wound, gasping and laughing with excitement as she dug for the Duranium bullet lodged in her chest. Blood spurted out slightly, but Bubbles had caught the bullet with her tweezers and pulled.
With her restraint and self-preservation instincts repressed, the bullet was dug out immediately. The quick and dirty move had limited the pain to a brief spike, something she did not expect.
Bubbles closed her eyes, trying to fight the berserker in her while knowing all the while that she had done something wrong even if she was right. All her attempts at becoming clean had gone down the drain.
"Bubbles?" a familiar voice greeted her. She opened her eyes… and saw a miracle. Detective Wednesday stood before her - where he came from and how he entered the Lombardi mansion was a welcome mystery.
"Rurrles!" a huge talking dog came up to her and licked her in the face. "Ri missed ryou!"
"Whoa, calm down, doggy boy," Wednesday said while pulling back the talking dog by the collar while watching Bubbles with concern. "She's hurt. I don't think she can take a hug anytime soon."
"I could use a hug…" Bubbles said nonetheless.
"I think what you need more than anything is some medical attention," the detective said instead. "Good thing first-aid is part of my training."
The detective knelt down and gently moved to undress Bubbles, but the timid superpowered girl seized his hands firmly and wouldn't let go, a look of concern on her face.
But something else was worrying Bubbles. Had the detective noticed her eyes? The red eyes when she took His Secret 2.0? If he did, he wasn't showing any signs of it.
"You can trust him, Rurrles," Stanley Talker the talking dog tried to reassure Bubbles before giving her another frenzy of licks. "Ri know we argued refore, but he's a good guy, just like…" the talking dog ceased talking. Bubbles could tell from his canine eyes, so filled with the spark of intelligence, that bad memories had struck him, and she knew what they were. Mister Mullens. Olivia.
After some hesitance, Bubbles finally let go, allowing Detective Wednesday to do his work, removing her dress before cleaning her wound and bandaging it. He'd made short work of it; being a police officer in one of the most dangerous cities in the United States had made sure he had plenty of practice.
"I need to go…" Bubbles pulled herself up. Her wound was still hurting, but she was more worried about her sisters. Yet, even getting up was difficult, and Wednesday and Talker could tell. The detective gripped her firmly by the shoulder.
"You shouldn't be moving," the detective said. "Just wait here for your USDO friends. I know there's some bad blood between you and those feds, but I don't think they're here to kill you."
"I can't…" Bubbles said. She took the detective gently by the hand on her shoulder and guided it off.
"Why?"
"Blossom and Buttercup are still looking for the Amoeba Boys, but I think they're in trouble…" Bubbles said. Without waiting, she began walking away, rounding around the stairwell she was resting on and towards the doors her sister had gone through.
As if reality was trying to remind her of her limitations, pain shot up once again in her chest, and she fell to her knees, both hands covering the bandaged hole in her chest.
"Bubbles!" Detective Wednesday and the talking dog shouted in unison. They both ran up to her, with the detective going around her and kneeling in front of her while the dog stood beside him.
"Don't be stupid, you can't go on like this!" the detective said. "Look, I'll go, me and Stanley here both. We'll help Blossom and Buttercup out any way we can!"
"No!" Bubbles cried. "You can't! I can't lose anymore friends, not like- not like Olivia, not like Mister Mullens!" As it turned out, the talking dog wasn't the only one remembering the deceased officers.
"I… I need more…" Bubbles mumbled. Her half-dose of His Secret 2.0 hadn't done as much as it had hoped. Her body had acclimatized to the drug back in the dark days when she was addicted to it, and her body's tolerance for it hadn't dropped much.
"More what?" the detective asked.
"Nothing," Bubbles said. She tried to stand up once again, but with her wound agitated, pain had put a stake through her once more, forcing her back down.
Frustrated, Bubbles screamed, and she might have screamed a bit too hard as Wednesday and Talker had to back away, with the former pressing his palms against his ears while the dog had no such option. For a while, she wavered between screaming and crying, thoughts of how she had once been trapped in similar situations before surfacing.
'No. It's not going to happen again!' Bubbles thought. Further images of a dead Bunny and a vivid imagination of how a dead Blossom would look like appeared in her mind. 'No, no, no!'
That was when it happened; there was an explosion of purple energy all around her, filling her. For a moment, her eyes shined purple. It was as if some mystical force was coursing through her veins, as if it had heard her cry of help.
For a moment, as Bubbles continued glowing purple, she felt hot, then cold, then… nothing but slight numbness, both her mind and ears buzzing slightly. Bewildered, she stood up. The pain in her chest did not assault her this time. Curious, Bubbles cautiously felt her wound through her bandage, and when she found that it did not hurt like before, pressed it harder.
Her superior sense of touch told her enough; the wound had hardened and recovered instantly. There was still a scab, but it was as if the wound was a day old - and she had seen enough damage unto herself that she knew how it was like. It might still be there and it might still be sore, but the miraculous recovery was enough to put her back on her feet.
"Rurrles! Rhat was rhat?" Stanley Talker asked as it slunk closer it Bubbles.
"Yeah, where did that come from? New power of yours?" Detective Wednesday suggested, still shielding his eyes and squinting them. Bubbles was still glowing purple, but the light was fading quickly.
"I… I don't know…" Bubbles said, but the purple had reminded her of someone, someone dear to her heart, whom she had lost. "It- It was Bunny."
"Bunny? But she's-" the detective stopped himself before saying something he thought was inappropriate. Bubbles held her chest, feeling it. It felt as if Bunny was nearby, beside her, like some guardian angel answering her call for aid.
"She's with me, I guess, even if she isn't," Bubbles said cryptically, and even she did not know what she was talking about.
"As long as things work out," the detective said before pulling out his pistol. "Feeling good enough to lead the way?"
Bubbles nodded, her hand still on her chest, feeling the wound that had closed. It hadn't fully healed, but it wouldn't bother her any longer. However, something else made her doubt her actions.
"But… You're still coming?" she said.
"Of course, can't let a little broad like you take the heat alone, can I?" the detective said. "If you're worried about me kicking the bucket, well, I've got the dog and I've got you now, don't I?"
"Alright…" Bubbles reluctantly agreed.
"Ri'll run reside you!" Stanley Talker barked.
"Alright, let's go!" the detective said. Bubbles made towards the doors leading deeper into the mansion, drifting through the air at a speed comfortable for her companions to keep up - not that she was in any shape to race them.
Tank shells continued to rock the mansion. Gunshots were ringing out intermittently. War had broken out between the USDO outside and the various gangs on the inside. Amidst all the noise, Bubbles could hear it faintly; a battle was going on between her sisters and the USDO. Had they caught up to the Amoeba Boys yet?
Along the way, however, Bubbles soon learned that it wasn't a battle involving both her sisters, for she ran into Buttercup, and she was wrapped in curtain linen for some reason. When Bubbles and friends encountered her, she was scratching her head and wandering the corridor stiffly as if she had just woken up from a power nap. Yakuzas surrounded her, still knocked out and deprived of their weapons.
"What happened here?" Detective Wednesday asked, wary of the still warm Japanese gangsters that surrounded them.
"They surprised us," Buttercup said. "We surprised them back."
"Are ryou rokay?" the talking dog asked while staring at the strips of curtain around her.
"Never felt better, I guess," Buttercup said. She noticed the dog looking at her, so she began undoing the linen wound around her. Quite surprisingly, it didn't hurt much, and there was no further bleeding. Come to think of it, Buttercup remembered something while she was coming to
"There was purple light…" she wondered out loud, "I was covered in it and…." she felt the wound on her chest to realize that it didn't hurt as much. In fact, it felt as if it had a full day to heal. "I'm fine now."
"Just like me!" Bubbles exclaimed, out of both realization and excitement. "It was Bunny! I don't know how, but she came back to help us!"
"I didn't see Bunny anywhere," Buttercup said.
"I don't know, I mean she's there, but not there. She helped us but she's not here…" Bubbles tried hard to explain, but couldn't quite zero in on it. Buttercup was just as lost.
"Buttercup, where's Blossom?" Detective Wednesday asked. Buttercup did not seem to hear at first; she seemed dazed and fixated on the Yakuzas around her. Whether it was because she was still waking up from unconsciousness or tired, the detective did not care. Taking a knee and shaking her by the shoulder, the detective repeated his question.
Buttercup did not respond immediately, but snapped back to the present eventually.
"She left me here and went off on her own," Buttercup eventually revealed.
"Which way?" Bubbles asked. It didn't help that the sound of struggles in the distance had stopped.
The City of Townsville. Outskirts. Lombardi Family Estate.
25 MAR (Saturday) 1989. 2300.
While Bubbles and Buttercup fought the trio of fallen enemies with the help of Detective Wednesday and Stanley Talker, Blossom struggled with a million questions in her head, but the greatest mystery was when a purple aura of light began covering her bleeding arms, spreading to her entire body. She felt coldness, then warmth, and when it was all over, she looked at her arms again and saw that her wounds had mostly recovered. There were still scabs and scars that had yet to disappear, but they were shallow and most importantly, much less leaky and painful.
"Blossom! Help!" Bubbles and Buttercup screamed in unison; the both of them had withdrawn while the three corpse-fighters were swinging their weapons. There were several gunshots too as Mister Wednesday was unloading his pistol on the the Yamamoto golem, which barely recoiled from the attack. Stanley Talker was beside him, low down to the ground, whimpering - it had gotten in a few good bites at the flesh golems, but they'd done little good. Those bites were traded with a good slash from the Samurai corpse-thing, which penetrated his vest and cut into his skin somewhat; it wasn't a deep wound, but it was still painful.
Blossom watched as her friends and sisters backed away further, while Yamamoto, Pang, and Naga loomed just ahead, and took steps to maintain the same distance. The cultist behind the three flesh golems continued her strange arm gestures. The cultist seem to be waving her arms at the golems, as if she was gesturing for them to move, and it was when Blossom saw this that it gave her an idea where there was hopelessness once.
"Bubbles, Buttercup, go around to the left!" Blossom ordered. "Mister Wednesday, talking dog, go around them to the right!"
"Ah hahahaha!" the Japanese woman in red cackled like a witch as she performed her mystical gestures for the undead creatures to get closer to the two groups, leaving Mister Yamamoto in the center. "Your simple, childish strategies won't do you any good!"
Blossom simply smiled; once again, she had been hiding another fireball behind her the whole time. Without another word, she sprang into action, flying towards the Yamamoto, who swung its katanas at her only to miss and receive a face full of fire. While it was blinded, Blossom snapped downwards as the creature extended its neck in anticipation of her going up, swords still swinging.
Blossom had instead rolled between Yamamoto's legs, rolling between and past them before springing up and flying towards the cultist.
"You-!" was all the woman could say before taking a punch in the jaw and flying yards backwards. Immediately, there was a change in the behavior of her flesh golems, which started to behave erratically, screaming and swinging their weapons wildly - but they were predictable.
Bubbles, who was facing Master Pang, tackled him by the legs while he was swinging his staff at her, tripping the late martial artist. She grabbed him by the metal jaw and pulled, tearing the ugly prosthetics out. "I'm sorry, Mister Pang…" she apologized after that.
Buttercup, at the same time, swooped low before upper-cutting the undead Naga from below, slamming her in the ceiling and taking out the head before the whole thing fell in a heap.
Sensing opportunity, Detective Wednesday fired more rounds into the eyes of Mister Yamamoto, who swung his swords wildly at the detective as he was blinded by the attack. The talking dog leapt into action, biting down on the ex-Yakuza's leg before dragging him to the ground. The dog then lunged and bit Yamamoto in the neck, tearing at it. Blood spurted everywhere, and the Yamamoto went limp.
It was over. This undesirable fight was finally at an end. While it was good to kick the butts of some bad guys, Blossom had only one particular group of bad guys she wished to bring to justice right now, and they were the Amoeba Boys.
The group got back together after it was all over.
"How did you know, Blossom?" Bubbles asked Blossom.
"Know what?" Blossom asked back. While this was happening, Detective Wednesday was handcuffing the cultist woman to a pole.
"How did you know knocking out that woman would help us win this fight?" Bubbles asked with greater clarify.
"She looked like she was controlling them, you know, the way she was waving her arms…" Blossom said.
"Gotta say, you kids are getting good at this, scarily good," Detective Wednesday said.
"Not ras good ras me," Stanley Talker joked, smiling his canine smile. The talking dog actually appeared terrifying this way, with blood still dripping from his teeth and mouth. The Girls, who were smiling, actually lost their smiles when they looked at him. When the dog realized why they had dropped the smiles, he attempted to wipe away the blood with his paw, but to limited success.
Blossom and Bubbles could hardly hide their fear of the talking dog despite what they themselves had accomplished, while Buttercup returned to smiling quite quickly as if she had found a new friend.
"So what do you say, kids? Do the three of you press on? Can you?" Detective Wednesday asked. "We heard the USDOs talking while we were on the way here. I think they're more concerned about taking down the dons than taking the three of you in. So if the three of you were to turn yourselves in, you can leave the rest of it to the adults."
"I'm afraid of what they'll say…" Bubbles mumbled. In her mind though, she was more worried about getting grounded or worse still, getting some kind of punishment comparable to Buttercup's electrocution… on top of a scolding and accusations from General Blackwater.
"Yeah, no thanks," Buttercup rejected the idea gruffly, crossing her arms. "I've been having too much fun." In her mind, she thought the same as Bubbles, except that it was her opinion that punishments were a certainty.
Blossom had been listening to her sisters, reading them, her Sister Sense and knowledge of them giving her unparalleled understanding of what they were both saying and not saying.
"I agree - I don't think we're quitting anytime soon," Blossom said to the detective. "We tried looking for help with the adults for days and it never worked. We- we helped the Amoeba Boys and caused lots of mess and-"
"I can't blame you for that," the detective said, tried to defend the Girls. "No one should blame you for that. You Girls are just kids. Superpowered or not, you wouldn't have known."
"But it's still our mess and we have to clean it up," Blossom said. Dad suddenly appeared in her mind the moment her next words materialized. "It's what we've been taught. It's what Dad would have wanted…"
Interrupting the conversation were the shouts of three Yakuzas coming down the corridor towards the waiting room they had been battling in. Detective Wednesday sprung out of cover and fired a few rounds, killing all three of them even before they knew what hit them.
"C'mon, let's go then!" Detective Wednesday shouted. Together, the man, the dog and the Girls continued on their way, deeper down the throat of the Lombardi as they pursued the Amoeba Boys.
