In the vast emptiness to surround Captain & charge, only ice and a strange mechanism greeted their three eyes. One to feature a bottom section of similar-sized holes, and a top section of some storage box and green button. A quick and trivial inspection, yet a telling one.
"Sure was expecting much more than that… What weren't we told?"
"No clue, Cap… No clue."
Whatever theories they could've bandied about, they had soon dispersed for the thin sheet of paper poking out the box, that swooping scrawl of Archbury's all over it. One to unfold and read together, and this time not feature the usual pomposity they'd come to remember from him.
Just credits towards their efforts thus far, and among the paragraphs, an exposure of original plans for that fancy vial he hid on himself. One that'd solve the grid puzzle without effort, save heaps of time—for the final cost of Mayfield's cure.
If such temptations were ignored, all they had to do was mix the both together, and survive whatever came next. Further grateful for Kif's help, and for DOOP snoozing such persuasion tactics, she inserted the two vials, clicked the timer, and took a walk around.
If the final task was to just wait around and talk for however long, Clobberella could've done that all day. But experiences both prior and current, and especially regarding 'survival', had her doubt such intentions. Indeed she called Battler over with thoughts to investigate the area.
Punching at walls, kicking through the ice, pushing for secret chambers, leaping to crack the roof… Had spent a good half-hour desperate to expose anything, but even they had to admit to running out of ideas.
"Searched every inch, and not a damn thing to see… The hell does Zookeeper mean by this 'matter of survival' anyway? Did we miss some trap-infested obstacle course, or a lethal game show knockoff, or—"
"Shhhh, don't give him ideas, damn you! Trust and believe, look into my eyes, he doesn't need anymore."
"Heh, yeah, guess you're right. Hey, if it's just a matter of humdrum waiting, that'd be the easiest thing I've done all month."
"Preach to me, lass… Say, you wouldn't happen to have some cream on you, would you?"
"No, I used my last globs trying to fight those monsters. In fact, had Kif and DOOP not intervened, I'd be blood and skin all over the ice… Puts a new meaning to red, white and blue, doesn't it?"
"I see, well, you'd best take mine then. My switch is only inevitable, and even the worst superhuman beats the best human, hundred outta hundred." He ripped off his boot to hand it off, gritting as his foot flattened over the ice.
"Thanks kid. You know, I'd been there for losing everything; as angry as I grew at my apartment or especially for you running away, I should've tried to understand."
"No-one's fault but mine. Zookeeper's done so well scaring me; the thought of being his slave could stop my heart. Besides, not like I never got my shares of major arse-kickings since coming here."
"So what do you think? Since the months we met, you believe we're any closer to the answers?"
"I'd be a fool to speak now, you know that."
"Good point… Perhaps we'd better investigate again, I'd never believe things could be this easy."
They got nothing from behind the mechanism, and for a couple of cream rubs, they even went swimming in the waters hoping that any secrets could be revealed beneath. But only solid walls and stiff freezes as they re-surfaced, before The Battler began to collapse.
Blood coughing up again, throat starting to close, violent shivers above and below…
"It's coming, Clobberella," he rasped, as she palmed his shoulder. "Get your cream on, and get ready to fight."
"Are you serious? Even without powers, I've already been afraid of killing you."
"I'd rather die by your hand than his, especially if you thwart that son-of-a-bitch. I'm giving you that blessing, and I expect you to heed it… Do NOT hold back, and do NOT let up."
"That's it? You're just going to toss your life, even after all your efforts? There's gotta be—"
"YES! I've listened to how he hurt you, and I've known the horrors he's capable of. Hell, if Fry's been any indication, I'd much rather dig that dirt grave. If my leaving means your reunion, then please let that be."
A final shake of the hand: "Okay… It's been a ride, shame to see it end."
While she witnessed Battler seemingly begin to crack and split apart upon transformation, Clobberella cracked her new tube open to squirt a liberal amount all over. Concern for not getting some serum from Kif, but bigger concern for the black and purple creature not three feet from her.
For the demonic gravel that soon introduced her to him.
"Bow down and bid welcome, towards the Atlas to Zeus of gods! Solomon's grandmaster, Hercules' inspiration, Achilles' intimidator, Mercury's superior! No world nor person shall hide secrets from… The Bloodhound."
He paced around, taking in his surroundings while Clobberella kept her distance.
"All these scents, sights and sounds to greet me; learned more in thirty seconds than almost thirty years… The purest of freedom, save for my warden's will."
That warden's will soon imposed itself, became a time warp of horrors projected over those icy walls. Events he knew had happened over the past several months, but now corrupted beyond the point of simple propaganda.
Everything else he knew since he first arrived on New New York's shores had remained for the most part untouched, save for one crucial factor. That cyclops he so championed had, all this time, ended up his greatest enemy.
There he'd be trying to search for a home, there she'd be waiting to encounter him, to kick his teeth in without provocation. Never chose to let up, even as he begged for mercy. When Archbury happened to hear the news, he arrived on scene to call the ambulance, pay out for his treatment, and ensure he'd be safe.
Clobberella did remember such violence, but certainly not the unprovoked nor endless sort seen there. Nor of Archbury being anywhere near the scene.
"The hell did any of THAT happen?!"
A growl of disdain towards her, as he continued to watch, hands clutched over his head. Once the kid recovered, Zookeeper called in some favours, including for that delivery boy job. While Mayfield got toured around, he'd again encounter the cyclops… Cue another beating, and a promise of much worse if he failed her.
A short yet disastrous memory, a further breakdown, and yet another protest from Clobberella.
"Oh Lord, what a complete load… Sure I wasn't so nice, but that's taking things way too extreme!"
The time warp took him through Stumbos-4, through the weeks since, and through the accusing parlour. Every single time, despite best efforts to please her, he would end up either abandoned, or castrated in front of customers. Archbury had always been there; teaching him to use the guns, rubbing down the Miracle Cream, giving back his proper tips, or tearing that wall down to get to him.
"Who am I supposed to be, the Devil Incarnate? Even the most desperate politician would back off from all these smears."
And then there was that hospital stay in particular. A clever omission of the role he had putting him in a weeks-long coma, and letting logic draw the natural conclusion. Then a sudden wake-up towards facing her, now burnt red from rage, as she palmed her sandwich to begin force-feeding him.
Seconds moulded into several days, in his case literally as the snack festered into a ruthless disease, one to create a living human corpse out of him. One to comprise of, among others, every gangrene—Fournier's as well—before being doomed to die.
If one ever needed a face for contemptuous disbelief, Clobberella's would've nailed it then & there.
"Wow… I've seen and heard my share of garbage, but that's in a level of its own."
"And yet, those are exactly the events as I've seen them," came the venomous reply. "Think any words of yours will change that?"
The heroine knew better than to answer, especially once she watched his life after that… Nothing involving New New York at all, and experiences she just couldn't speak about.
A visual truth alright, to see him lie in that vomit & whiskey. In came his parents, their beloved friend Archbury, to soap and shower him, then prop him up in bed. A promise that everything would be alright again, that under Archbury's wisdom and guidance, the true cause would be achieved.
Now he sat in that nameless office, coach Archbury helping him lay down the law against not just those big-mouthed brats over the phones, but for the agents left bombarded in those cubed trenches. Unknown voices now, to praise an attitude of leadership, compassion, and assertion.
"To not be prisoner to her anymore… More than anything in the world."
Favours had the threat of arrest called off, his influence stopped cold his brother's phone-call. Piece by piece, Archbury had returned things to normal, and he could enjoy that all again by doing just one thing…
Having taken in every last detail, Clobberella had a permanent gurn affixed to her face. She knew better, but having remembered Fry's fate, she chose to house her cream inside her bustier. A pre-emptive insurance, in case the kid just lashed out to attack her.
"Bloodhound, please don't think he's the answer to all your questions, the gatekeeper to your fantasies. For Heaven's Gate, he SOLD you the reality you face now! The tortures, the missing limb, the attempts on your life, the city-wide war… Don't you remember?"
"What nerve have you, to so blaspheme his name? To so deny those months of footage, downplay your roles? You think you're entitled to my mercy, when I never had ANY from you?"
"We've talked about this, we've been here before! Even for all my stories growing up, do you think me such a monster as to kill without cause? He's using your memories against you, corrupting you towards a life he'll NEVER give."
"You're full of lies, hero. You think I'd be so stupid as to fall for them?"
"Look to the one who served by his side, before you accuse me of lying. Besides, look around you… You think there's no secrets he hasn't hidden right now?"
The sentence seemed to have him consider, which allowed Clobberella to word 'curiosities' about whatever laid behind the walls, or inside the mechanism, or anything else at all.
"Funny, it's been a world of clicks and ticks since I came about… Let's see what hides from me."
Bloodhound's eyes started to brighten, soon 'melting' the wall before him to discover an intricate set of gears; at least a couple hundred clicking at pace. Seemed to find their connection to that giant ice wall, and then heard where the ticks had sounded from.
A digital clock, and a countdown of some several days to go.
Clobberella was floored for the news; Zookeeper's plan had never allowed for second chances. Her powers would fade, her cream would run out, and his new soldier would enjoy a prized head on his wall.
And if that didn't worry her enough, out came that footage again; this time a face speaking the same voice she'd heard during that day of retaliation.
"Kill her, Bloodhound. Destroy Clobberella, and—"
The voice cut to a sudden stop, but as it echoed off the ice, it had been enough. For the former charge turned criminal right-hand, all he felt was a thousand needles in his head, a series of searing flares in his synapses…
Only one single order to follow, and all the more motivation for being fed that footage.
"Your death has been decided… For Zookeeper's glory, and for my personal vengeance!"
Knowing she didn't learn wrist-flick kill moves for nothing, Clobberella just snapped "Bring it!" as they blitzed towards each other. Courtesy of the kid's blessing, her several angles of attack had allowed her the upper hand in the early going.
But even for Arcturan Kung Fu black belts, for fights since her early teens, and for having two arms over one, her opponent hadn't shied away from carrying out his order. When she got in close he seized his chance; squirming about to stab a finger into her eye. As she yelled and tried to regain vision, a set of obsidian knuckles landed flush in her throat.
Losing her vision and then her breath, she was defenceless as he gripped her neck, skated about the ice, and slammed her face into the cavern walls, hard & often. A large, ugly grin as chunks of ice came loose, before he almost embedded her into the other side. Never thought he'd be a great spear-thrower, never a better time to find out.
She couldn't even push up for recovery, before she felt her boot grabbed, and her body swung above his head. Face pounding into the ground, further cracks and splits into the surface, before he dunked her head into the waters.
Far from choosing to drown though, Clobberella had used the ice water to relieve her eye, to take her time in coming up with a plan. Bloodhound didn't enjoy the live feedback that he could've, so when he lifted her for a closer look, he was confused for the evil smile across her lips.
"Why must you beg for another pounding? Just die already!"
"I don't beg, Bloodhound… I deliver."
A cock of her fist, and a bullseye punch into his crown jewels. Any other time, the nuclear force might've ended his life; instead, Bloodhound's face turned inward as he crashed to the ice. No way—no matter the brainpower—was he getting up anytime soon.
But for all the time spent searching for secrets, the ice wall to trap them inside still hadn't moved…
Satisfied for the devastating blow she'd dealt, Clobberella took the opportunity to depth charge into the icy waters, a human torpedo hunting for an opening. Caught herself a lucky break in looking around; turned out that getting slammed about the ice had loosened a passage to swim through.
Moments after surfacing into a new chamber, she found the cause for her problem. What Bloodhound had told her of spinning gears and impossible countdowns had instead been projected on by a climate-proof camera & screen. A cheap but effective illusion, obscuring the puzzle of having to assemble them all before the green all-clear, and true hour-long countdown, could be initiated.
"Gotta give you credit, fat man… You really have thought of everything."
Nonetheless, and courtesy of great haste, visual footage and no disruptions, she spent virtual minutes putting the pieces together; satisfying sounds to hear upon completion and a button push. The minutes ticked by as she grabbed her cream again, rubbing down for feeling her powers run their course.
Fifty-five, fifty... A few shakes of the head, who was she kidding about arriving home?
Forty-five, forty… A rub across her neck; perhaps she could believe again.
Thirty-five, thirty… A slow pump of fists; seemed that all had been won…
Her reality was checked though when in entered Bloodhound, beyond enraged for the sudden cross. Speeding through and taking her by surprise, he slid about, slipped under and seized her boot, dragging her along for a swim. Screams of struggle in his ears, before she slipped from his grasp.
On equal footing again, and for floating lighter than rag-dolls, Clobberella had gotten right back on the offensive. One thing the kid hadn't known in forever was the sense—or similar, at least—of being in zero-gravity, a situation Leela had known too well while delivering besides her crew.
When she WAS able to chase him down, she brought out her arsenal of collar-and-elbows (emphasis elbows), Muay Thai knees, and boxing body blows… The heroine did whatever she could to tame that dog after her, but far from dropping tail between his legs, Bloodhound had only bared teeth, and soon his devious finger-wag, towards her.
A moment she realised all too late as the water now froze her body stiff, as the sudden intake had her blow bubbles in gasping for breath. For the frozen climates, the Miracle Cream had spent itself trying to chase down her enemy and keep her fighting; now she thrashed about just thirty seconds or so from gurgling her last.
She'd have been such a corpse, another victim of rough waters, before the beast in Bloodhound rounded about to seize her over his shoulder. Much more crystal-clear than the 'kill her' order had been the 'destroy Clobberella' part…
In case her friends came back for her, the beast knew he couldn't leave an intact body behind.
Wasn't long before they both surfaced back in the original chamber, before Bloodhound tossed her aside and stalked her in approach. Already a sizeable gap through the ice wall, but even for Clobberella scrambling to escape, she couldn't avoid the beast grabbing her hair, forcing a face-to-face.
"Pleading for small mercies, resenting your command, spitting on my efforts… All these months I've waited, wishing for our balance to shift."
"All Zookeeper's done is play your pretend hero; call me crazy, but that's easy when you can insert yourself into one's story!"
Bloodhound paid her no heed, as he flattened her back and stomped on her wrist. Crushed to splinters, she could only pitch a scream while blood began to spurt.
"And that applied to me how? Did I ever get the chance, when you left me fighting for life every week?"
Crushing her other wrist this time, she could only lash a vengeful kick of pain into his back, leaving him unmoved.
"You really think you can believe a 'friend' who had to recast himself, just to earn your trust? Ours was borne of respect, and you know it!"
The ice wall had dropped three-quarters down when he recreated Admiral's beating; stomping over her feet. Bloodhound's corruption had left him as good as lost, and it seemed that Zookeeper would've been getting his wish after all.
But the biggest wrench of such came in the form of his most unlikely defector… The Admiral.
No longer fighting back or receiving orders from his fast-asleep master, The Admiral was given guarded permission to investigate the chamber's growing gap. The moment he found his 'commanding officer' begin turning his girlfriend into mince-meat, was the moment he broke free and raced for The Bloodhound.
And if there were ever thoughts that he'd been lying back in his private quarters…
Bloodhound had found himself seized around the waist and slammed down, where lacking prototype or no, none could deny the effect of Admiral's angrier or better combat. Lessons were bound to be learnt, enjoying the company he did for all those years.
The noises, strikes, yells and curses coming from within had caught Kif's attention; he soon ordered those reserves trailing Fry to get in there. About half a dozen in all; Bloodhound raced out the chamber and disappeared into the night.
There'd be a better time to carry out his order, far as he was concerned.
Once a poor, embarrassed Private dug his hand inside to retrieve the cream, it wasn't long before she'd been revived from the living dead, before she'd lead them to the mechanism where the new vial had finished mixing.
A few breaths between them all as the true clock had wound down; hours of craziness, involving puzzles, fights, philosophy, and survival, had led up to this.
Grabbing the new vial as carefully as she could, and tucking it good and snug in her outfit, Clobberella would then receive word that, following lair raids and schematic studies, the cloning machine had been figured out.
"The final package I hope to deliver, oh Lord please, in this chapter of my life."