Epilogue
Snapshots
B: Agent D, report results of mission.
…
B: Agent D, report.
…
B: You are violating procedures. Report or face consequences
…
Mark Beaks' funeral was on a Tuesday. It was a crowded event, the burial (an empty coffin - they never found the body) especially so, packed with family, 'friends,' and most of all fans, lamenting the loss of such a fine, upstanding young entrepreneur and wondering how life could possibly go on without him.
Notably, Gyro Gearloose did not attend the service.
In fact, if it weren't for the company's official social media account, which posted a quick tidbit of grief and apologies for Beaks' mother, it would seem like he had completely forgotten about Beaks entirely.
Oh, but he hadn't. Not yet, anyway.
On the day of the funeral itself he was working back at the half-destroyed lab, using a huge mechanical arm to pick debris out of the ruins of the burnt-out arc reactor. He was looking for something very important, but the longer he searched the deeper the pit in his stomach grew because it clearly wasn't there.
From across the room Bulby left whatever most-likely-trivial thing he had been doing before and walked over to stand next to him.
"How's progress going?" he asked, leaning forward to inspect the debris. "Have you found it yet?"
Gyro lifted a chunk of concrete into the air, where it fell and shattered on the reactor's warped steel frame. "What does it look like?"
"That's a no, then. Have you tried checking under-"
"Yes!" Gyro snapped. "Yes, I have! I've checked under, and over, and right and left and inside out, and I've run out of places to look, but the seat still isn't there!"
Bulby's brow furrowed. "But then - that would mean-"
"That Mark Beaks managed to eject himself out of his suit and escape the explosion, and is now at large? Yes." The fire that had flared up so quickly only seconds before was gone now, replaced by weariness. Gyro pushed his glasses up and rubbed his eyes. "Yes, that's exactly what it means."
The two men stood in silence, looking into the still-flickering reactor remains.
"So what do we do?" Bulby asked finally. "Beaks was just declared dead! Why would the government want to arrest a dead man, especially one who, according to the public, has committed no crime? If we try to explain it we'll just reveal too much and get in trouble - even more trouble than Cabrera already got us in with his little 'Gizmoduck' stunt, that is. So what are we… ?" He trailed off, giving Gyro an expectant look.
Gyro thought.
He knew a scene like this…he'd seen it in that one Alastair Borswan movie, about some vigilante hero. (What was it called? Darkfeather Rises?) One of the lines in it stuck with him - how did it go? 'You either die a hero or live long enough to see yourself become the villain.' Yeah, that was it.
Of course, here it was more 'You either die a scumbag or live long enough to see yourself become a maniacal scumbag,' but regardless.
In the end, the solution was the same.
"We bury him," he said coldly. "From here on out, Mark Beaks is dead. He died right here, with nothing left for the coffin. And while the world mourns who they thought he was, we're gonna look for who he became. We crack down on the illegal arms trade. We go after the Beagle Boys. And we watch out for a grey-feathered parrot, ready to catch him wherever he surfaces next."
Bulby nodded.
"Noble," he muttered, "but not exactly a 'profitable business venture.' The board will have your head for this, you know."
Gyro laughed - a single HA, straight and to the point. It was an unsettling sound, like a dying crow. Then he put his hand on Bulby's shoulder: "A week ago my head was almost literally ripped off my shoulders by a mad billionaire in a power suit. I think I can handle whatever a few old men have to say."
It started to rain while Gandra was at the boardwalk. That was perfect, actually; rain was the perfect muffler to deter eavesdroppers.
And it made it easier to spot the tails, of course. She could see two of them right now.
Gandra untied her hoodie from her waist, pulled it on, and sat down at a bench at the end of the walk. She waited until she could hear the dead wood creaking under the weight of steel-tipped boots, and then called out.
"How long have you boys been following me? Two, three hours?"
She looked over her shoulder. There they were, feet behind her, with matching expressions akin to twin deer caught in the headlights. Trenchcoats. Why do S.H.U.S.H agents always wear trenchcoats?
"Nice of you to check in," Gandra said lightly. "Boss must've been really worried to send you all the way down here instead of a text."
The two men looked at each other, half apprehensive and half confused. One of them held his hands out almost apologetically: "You - weren't answering any of our messages-"
"You sent messages? I didn't see anything. Guess my phone was more damaged in the accident than I thought." Gandra pulled her old phone out of her pocket and held it up - or what was left of it, anyway. The top half was nothing but a mess of charred wires.
"This isn't a game, Agent D," said the other man gruffly. "We need-"
"Mission report, I know, I know. And here it is:" She stood up and walked over until she was right in front of him. "I failed. On both parts. And I'm ending the job. It was a big waste of time. Sorry."
The men exchanged another glance, this one more concerned.
"Agent D," protested the first one, "You know the consequences of-"
"I'm fully aware." She put the phone back in her pocket. "But it's not like I can go back and fix it at this point. My mission has literally become impossible, so no matter what you try to say, it's over."
She walked past them to leave, but in one last afterthought turned around. "…And do you think I could get somewhere funner for my next assignment? Less depressing industrial seaport, more Cape Suzette? Thanks."
Fenton turned the key to his apartment and opened the door. It had been two days since he told the world who he was, two days of fame and chaos. Thankfully no one knew where he lived yet, and so ever since that press conference sleep had been his only moment of peace.
Not tonight, apparently.
He stopped. There, leaning against the tiny dining table, facing away from him, half silhouetted in the flickering bathroom light, a huge, bulking figure.
"'I am Gizmoduck.'" The person scoffed. "Did you really think you were the only superhero in the world?"
Fenton felt a stab of fear pierce his chest. An assassin? A Beagle Boy? Worse?
"Mr. Cabrera, you've become part of a bigger universe," the figure - a woman, by the sound of it - continued in an unmistakable British accent. "You just haven't realized it yet."
Fenton didn't move. He gripped the crutches. If he needed to, they could serve as weapons (as long as he didn't fall over wielding them.)
"Are you going to stand out there all night," asked the figure finally, "Or are you going to come in?"
Slowly, warily, Fenton stepped inside and closed the door behind him.
"Who are you?" he asked.
The woman stood up and stepped forward into the light. She was a duck, tall, taller than Gyro, with grey hair in a bun on top of her head. She wore a dark trenchcoat (classic assassin attire) and a small pair of glasses balanced on her beak (weapons? Tiny circular knives?) The most interesting thing about her character was her left eye - or, rather, the lack of it. It was covered by a black patch, like a pirate, connected around her head by a matching black band.
"Betina Beakly," she said. "Director of S.H.U.S.H."
Fenton nodded as if he understood. "Ah."
'Betina' walked over to the wall and turned on the kitchen light. She motioned for him to sit at the table. Once they were seated, she latticed her fingers and looked him in the eyes. "I'm here to talk to you about the Adventurer Initiative."
A/N: Judging by her description, Beakly is also most likely Morpheus. Wait…Ducktales…Matrix? Matrixtales-?
Anyways, this is it! The real last chapter of Gizmoduck, mostly just to tie up a few loose ends, but also to serve as the 'post-credits scene' that is obligatory for Marvel movies. In a sense, you could say that the epilogue is the original form of the post-credits scene…
I have a few more notes I want to talk about before adressing the next step of Marveltales:
First off, something I never got around to mentioning in the big battle chapter that's been bothering me was how Gyro and Crowson and company escaped the building. If you ask Gyro, he and Crowson heroicially led the team out to safety while the others were fighting…but in reality he and Crowson spent most of their time hiding under a table and trying not to scream until finally they saw a chance to run out the hole Beaks and Fenton made when they crashed into the freeway.
And finally, I wasn't joking about that 'flying away in his gamer chair' thing- Mark Beaks is actually not dead. He was just such a fun character to write (i mean the oscar definetly goes to him or Gyro for best actor no doubt the show-stealers) that I will bring him back in some way, shape, or form…whatever it may be.
Now onto the future of Marveltales. (Sorry this author's note is long - at this rate it'll be longer than the actual chapter-)
Right now I am in rough-draft phase for the second story, officially titled Captain McDuck: The First Adventure. This will, as you may have guessed, feature Scrooge McDuck in World War II-era America and Europe as he faces off against the forces of the Nazi Reich and their mysterious 'science division…' but while Gizmoduck stuck pretty close to the original Marvel story, this will veer off course sharp and quick, in the process setting up most of the pieces for the big 'Adventurers' crossover, which is my long-term goal for this fic.
(Another note: to keep it simple, Captain McDuck will be posted on the same story - it'll still be called Marveltales, but the cover and description will be different. I'll probably have all of the 'Phase One' movies in the same story so it's easier to navigate - but of course, that depends. We'll see how it goes.)
I won't lie: It'll take a few months to get this going. Considering how long writing Gizmoduck took start to finish (about six months total) I would say about the same for this (though maybe a bit shorter, because I've been writing while posting these.) During this long hiatus I might sometimes post a teaser, or a 'what if,' even, but don't expect anything for a while. Mark my words, though, it will return..eventually.
Now for the big sendoff: Thank you to everyone who has read, reviewed, and most of all enjoyed this story so far! Special thanks to TheoreyofWeirdness for helping develop this…Frankenstein's Monster of a fic, along with Cwoods97, TheWackyStoryteller, and Angelwings2002 for following every twist and turn and plot hole along the way. Gizmoduck may not be a perfect (oh boy oh man is it not perfect need I bring up edwarblers air base-) story, but I am (in general) pleased with the final result, and hope to use what I learned writing it to make my future Marveltales stories even better for you - and I mean, it can only go up from here, right? (Hopefully?)
And so, until next time - farewell!
-smorey