Disclaimer: I do not own these characters, or else you wouldn't be reading this... =1
A/N: Hey, long time no see! So I wrote this chapter years ago but, recall how I wanted to edit all my previous chapters before publishing it? Yeah, I never managed to finish that, & thinking back on it, rather than trying to fix the past, let's just move forward, shall we? So, just like a long comic series' art evolves over time, so will this story I guess.
FYI: The story in this & last chapter can be considered AU side-line story. You don't need to read all other previous chapters to understand this side-story.
Also Warning for cursing! Enjoy~
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Day #12: "Endless Cycle" Part 2
[I can't remember when things became this way. Like our lives, Time is eternal. And however painful it is, we continue to move on. It's the only thing we can do.]
...
The blond boy calling himself the long-elusive "Tyrant P" laughed in triumph, as mindless little robots that resembled his image rummaged around and unpacked devices that had been abandoned decades ago, stored deep in some obscure, dusty shelves in a section of the laboratory that no one even remembered was there.
"You fools honestly believed this?" he mocked, fingering at one of labels hanging form one of the machines unloaded. The stamp on it read "OUTDATED."
All devices he was unpacking had such labels, some even described the gadgets as "so old that they are obsolete." It was surely the lab's first residents, many years ago, through their usual ignorance and habitual obedience, had placed the labels like they were instructed to some 80 years ago, shortly after they were manufactured according to instructions, when Tyrant P had recently come to power, and this lab had just been built as a consequence.
"In reality... this precious old technology I've grown fond is much more advanced than your pathetic little brains could hope to comprehend," Porky sat with one leg crossed, atop one of the capsules the porkybots had stationed out, after half-cleaning old spider webs off. "You really thought your Great Tyrant would provide his best knowledge to a populace that serves me no other purpose than to ignorantly obey me?" He'd foreseen the rebellion of the cult, Maverick's growing suspicions churning his stomach.
All this was like a game for him...
"But what I find most humorous..." Porky entertained, sliding fingers under his chin, "...is that none of you, in the decades this lab has been operational, ever even bothered to be curious as to what the hell all this was!" and for the effect, he waved at the scene in the background, where his Commander led porkybots to dispatch what he knew as Rejuvenating Capsules toward electrical ports (after sabotaging whatever other stupid machine occupied those stations).
"I have to say, I always welcome such handicap," Porky continued, for once genuinely pleased. "..And here you honestly thought you'd eventually stand a chance against me? Who the Hell do you take me for?" though his words sounded like the speaker felt offended, Porky laughed out loud at this statement.
Maverick could do nothing more pitiful than drop to his knees in total disbelief. He had believed himself so high, and so smart, thinking that he was helping his society against an entity that threatened their freedom. But here, such figure in the form of a spoiled child easily broke that image with what he'd just achieved.
Porky was far too advanced for him... a man who was probably not even human, or...
"But you know... I can be quite generous. I'm sure previous generations can attest to that," Porky approached him now, loud steps toward a Doctor kneeling on the floor was a sight very familiar and quite pleasing to him.
Maverick was in too much shock to respond with his usual pride. He had absolutely nothing to bargain with. He no longer believed in himself.
"What could I possibly give you, that you don't already have?" and then as an afterthought, added, "...My soul?"
"In exchange for your further pursuit of knowledge..." a malicious grin testifying that Maverick had just ruined himself further, "...those are exactly my thoughts."
...
Once his Commander was assured safety within the confines of an operating (but trusty) Rejuvenating Capsule, Porky made one last stop at the lounge room of the lab, taking any food they had, including the vending machines, and finally stepped fully outside the hidden underground lab, meeting the harsh rays of the sun with irritation, his mouth stuffed in snicker bars.
"Fukin thins don't taste like they used to," he chewed, and turned away from the sun. "Bet they're expired."
Porkybots buzzed their way behind him and unpacked devices they were carrying onto the cargo cars of their rusted vehicle. Even if things didn't go as planned (like MotherFuckingNature always intends them to), he's at least secured supplies that will last him some miles more.
"'Course it woulda been much better to have found this place empty..." he proceeded to open up a bag of chips-a scent he's missed for a while-and marveled at the thought of enlisting this guy Maverick to his constantly rebuilt army.
But an awful sense of impediment loomed on him. "Nah... I probably won't pull thru," he uttered as he munched, half-trying to not believe his own words.
Why, oh, why was it that humans continued to crawl back from the wreckages of his never-ending rage, like fucking cockroaches, to torment him further? This whole nonsense of, 'you're messing with people's freedom' bullshit? Why couldn't they just acknowledge him forever? Newer generations always had to be re-taught. Over and over... like every gawdamn five decades. Every time.
It was tiring... and yet, he continued to move... forward... (at least he likes to think).
And the harsh truth about his life comes to fruition when, only thirty-fucking-five minutes later, one of his porkybots lights up its light bulb in fashion and starts making a chattering noise unnerving enough for Porky to spit his 3rd bag of chips out.
"Gawdamn motherfuckers," he coughs and wipes off his chin.
...
"Make any attempt at sabotaging my plans, and every one of you will pay dearly," Porky had clearly demanded in a venomous tone. And whoever had refused outright this request was turned into charcoal on the spot. So most other scientist had the sense to 'survive and fight another day' and did as they were told.
It was probably some weak-assed, hairless scientist with fewer brains than their idiot director M who pulled the trigger. All these cowering brain-deads had been instructed not to disturb the Capsule containing a very important red-haired cyborg. Yet there it was, red eyes wide-awake as soon as the bald idiot had pressed the OFF switch on the container.
But there stood wrinkled man of old age—one who had lost everything long ago—and such aforementioned command had no value. His comrades had been exterminated at the hands of the Tyrant (or so he believes) long ago when The Cult they'd belong to disappeared. And right in front of his near-sighted eyes lay an apparent Key member of Tyrant P's army, apparently damaged enough to need this oddity of a capsule that may or may not contain his life-support.
Presumptuous it was, selfish even more. And the senile old doctor thought of nothing else. Not about the consequences, whether things were to go right or wrong (according to his standards). No plan B whatsoever. It was so easy, not to mention tempting in the first place, to do it. And he did. He pressed the switch, and everything afterwards went wrong.
He could or could not have shown aggression at the cyborg contained within, immediately sensing it was still alive though the OFF switch was pressed, maybe by grabbing a nearby taser, causing the cyborg to explode the container from within-a pre-emptive action to preserve its life before the old man could make a move. Once the others heard the blasts and saw the old man dead on its arms, they panicked and reached for their own weapons as well.
"Please do not shoot," the cyborg spoke in a soft tone while raising his hand up as in surrender, but such command was inaudible to the frantic emotions that surrounded his audience, who did not hesitate to open fire.
Hoarse yelling, followed by rains of bullets, forced the cyborg to attack out of defense. His body lowered, and then, something the scientists couldn't see-a wave of PSI energy-lifted the ones surrounding him closest into the air. The ground beneath them tore apart, their weapons exploded, and the cyborg dashed through to escape.
All other porkybots remaining inside responded accordingly to the threat. Blast after blast then filled the lab-damaged caused more by the panicked scientists abusing their weapons rather than Porky's robots wrecking havoc. Maverick remained seated at what was left of his office throughout this commotion. He hadn't made his decision regarding what was left of his soul, but he now found it being made for him. He was going to die right here, just like everyone else in this lab.
Might as well be everyone including that wretched cyborg and whatever fat bots were still inside. Damn giggling human-like robot piggies.
Through instructions forbidden, Maverick plugged in a code onto his main computer that reached the central core of the lab. Their source of main power, constantly under stabilizing rotation, began to react over normal levels, and all alarms went off.
"Attention. Attention. Red level warning. Self-Destruction will start in 10 minutes. Please evacuate immediately," the calm sound of a woman's voice was heard, contrasting the enormous state of alarm felt inside the building.
Everyone then ran mad, but most doors had been locked by Porky before he left. The Commander's survival instinct took over and, after scouting for any other possible exits or useful tools around, grabbed a nearby porkybot, flipped a switch within it, and sent him flying towards the ceiling until it reached a vent. Once inside, the robot then exploded, shaking the earth, but the cyborg knew it hadn't been enough to reach aboveground.
While the boy pondered, another panicked doctor saw this opportunity to try to shoot at the cyborg, but the boy disappeared before getting hit by his gun, and soon, the doctor found himself hanging by his collar with the cyborg holding him up. The doctor took a last look at the cyborg from under him and saw what he thought was a demon with flickering red lights for eyes.
Aboveground by the main entrance ramp, a multitude of porkybots blocked any access, preventing anyone else to go in or out, including Porky himself. Because ensuring 'the Master's Survival,' was their priority, they continued to push him further away from the lab. But Porky wasn't at all pleased.
"Get the fuck out of my way!" he attempted to stomp through them to continue making his way in, shoving some of the little bots aside. His desire to not be without his biggest weapon canceling all shaking and screaming that echoed from the underground maze as warnings of danger.
And then a blast was heard from above, urging Porky to exit the ramp in hopes that it was him. Indeed smoke trailed out after several more blasts, bursting a hole through the roof of the lab. Out came the Commander, dirtier than ever, a few ragged porkybots on his still operational arm. The ground below them was shaky, but it didn't stop Porky from running toward his Commander.
The ginger-headed cyborg had that unfazed look about him as always. Had this been any other moment, this idiot would rightfully deserve a punch from his King on the face.
"It isn't safe, Sir. Please step away."
Porky takes just half a look at him and places his hands on the boy's shoulders. "Those fucking idiots!" he shook his Commander, a voice mixed with worry and anger. There was rumbling heard from right beneath them. Anytime now the ground might collapse, or worse, explode in their faces.
"S-sir-"
Another hole blasting through the ground, this time done by pure gunpowder, surely someone got a hold of one of the unused tanks trying to break through. Both boys dashed away, heading back to their flashy spider-headed train just half a mile off, Porky cursing all the way through.
No one else but several porkybots made it outside. Once Porky and the Commander mounted their vehicle and the sight of crumbling underground lab was a distant sight, Porky shuffled through his pockets to take out a silver pen. He flipped the cap off to reveal a red button glistening untouched-it was a little gem he got a hold of while registering the lab's main office earlier (how convenient).
"Huh. There goes another harvest..." but before his thumb makes contact with the switch, earthquake-like rumbling is heard, the ground begins to collapse, and maybe they hear choruses of dying screams, but it was too far away to really tell (it was probable that the sound was so ingrained in their heads, that it seemed to automatically play to fit the mood).
Laboratory and future supplies now doubled and gone. Just fantastic. Whatever's left of his tiny army of giggling robots approach to mount into the cars behind the Spider Mech and go off on their habitual power-save mode. Without any further attachments, Porky looks forward at the distant horizon-where a more untouched scene awaits-and pulls a lever, initiating his vehicle to advance. He never once looked back at the mess they've (once again) left behind. He only half-imagines that the area will be unstable now, with tiny nuclear particles invading its air, possibly causing nearby fauna to either die or "evolve." It'll be a while 'till they return here.
Several miles later, he finds himself scouting the area lazily with a pair of still-functioning binoculars advanced enough to give him readings of his current viewing coordinates, climate temperature, and even potential signs of upcoming weather hazards. A rugged map sits on the side, filled with red dots marked with Xs and some still untouched.
He speaks absently to his half-dead red-headed companion, "It's so hard to find someone trust-worthy nowadays, huh?"
Yea, and nowadays are ever.
~Fin~
A/N: AND THERE GOES a strange little tale from a possible very distant future that wouldn't leave my mind. I hope you readers enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Because I plan to touch-upon this story's universe again at later tales. Maybe.
Thanks again!