Part Five – Reason For Madness
Time passed like information through a fiber-optic network... even though only a modicum of cycles had actually gone by, to the girls it could have easily been years. Buttercup's mind was weak; tired from years of internalized rage and self-pity, and was easily subjugated to the hypnosis that Bubbles was implementing... but Blossom's mind was offering a strong resistance to the stimulus, and the computer, though it calculated, compiled and ran a number of different scenarios... each process was killed almost the instant after it was set to float.
Nothing was furthering the progress of the stimulus. All executed programs were being analyzed, second guessed and outright rejected, even when her mind should have been the most susceptible.
Finally, the computer determined that it had no choice but to concentrate all available resources on Blossom. It would be no difficult task to complete Buttercup's conversion after Blossom was under its domain. It was a detailed task, and patience was required.
And so Buttercup's dream was set to idle for a time.
Blossom's dream was set to the highest priority available.
It began anew.
Suddenly and without warning, she felt a pressure, like someone were lightly squeezing her skull. It wasn't painful, but it was certainly uncomfortable.
She had been talking with the Principal of the school just moments ago. He didn't seem to notice anything wrong with her behavior; to him she had simply been glancing around his office.
"Well, Blossom, I believe it's time to go. Your father will worry if I keep you too long, won't he?"
"Yes, sir." She got up to leave, but she stopped. All this time, they had been talking about tactics in superhero work, and he had knowledge of a certain attack plan they had only used... once. It bothered her. How did he know? She had to make sure.
"Sir, before I go, I have a question I'd like to ask you."
"Yes, Blossom?"
"This attack pattern right here." She pointed to a paper on his desk with a complex line-drawing.
He furrowed his brow. "Yes, what about it?"
"Well, I remember using this move in one fight... and only that fight. It wasn't on the news, and there couldn't have been anyone else who could have seen it."
He smiled weakly. "Well, great minds think alike, I guess."
She steeled her tone. "I don't think that's it. I think there's something else going on here. Something you're not telling me. And I think I know what it is."
He didn't seem to like where this was going. "Blossom! Are you trying to imply that I am perhaps some arch-nemesis of yours, posing as your principal?"
She stared at him a moment more and then smiled slyly. "You took the words right out of my mouth, sir. Or should I say, Him."
The Principal didn't say anything. Instead, he stood there, giving her a dour look for a few more seconds and then brought his hand up, slowly, and snapped his fingers.
Instantly, he was Him. Just as Blossom remembered him, not for the better.
"So you figured me out," his voice echoed, and he was obviously angry from being unmasked.
She darkened her gaze. The very sight of Him filled her with anger. Of all the times they fought, he used the most devious tricks to try to kill them. He was not to be trusted. "Where's our real principal?"
He put one claw to his chest. "Right here."
She affected not to understand.
"I am your principal."
Ridiculous. "No, really, where is he?"
"Please don't make me repeat myself, Blossom. The last one left of his own accord, peacefully. Nice fellow. Hated him with a passion, but saw no reason to harm him. For the last year and a half, I have been your principal."
She growled in frustration. "All right, then. Why are you helping me?"
He waived his claw dismissively. "You do not need to know the reason. Suffice to say that I am helping you. You must achieve greatness."
She stared at him, nonplussed. "So then why have you been trying to kill us?"
"Why? Because I knew that if I tried to kill you—really tried—and you survived, you would be stronger than before. You have an innate ability to grow, and to adapt, more so than any human before you. I knew that this was the best way to do it."
She furrowed her brow. "Let me get this straight. You... tried to kill us... so we could survive."
"You make it sound crass."
"It is! You're not making any sense. The ends do not justify the means!"
He looked at her with mild derision. "Don't they? Many humans think like you, while others would say that if you limit yourself to that way of thinking, it's that much harder to attain your goals. So which is it, Blossom? Are you free, or is something holding you back?"
She frowned. If anything were holding her back, it would be common sense and decency.
"Please do not mock me, Blossom. I can read your mind. You should already know that by now."
That was definitely new to her. When did he—
"I've always had this power. I previously chose not to use it to my advantage in fighting you. Right now, I am not speaking to you as your enemy. I am trying to make you see the light."
She scoffed. "Light? You're as dark and evil as they come. There's no reason for me to trust you."
He regarded her with some bemusement. "No? Not even after I told you in all seriousness that I am trying to help you?"
"That's the biggest load of—"
"Just think about it." He furrowed his brow back at her. "No, don't look at me like that. Take a breath, and think about it."
She glared at him and then took a quick, deep breath through her nose, and then closed her eyes in contemplation. It was after some brief thought...
She realized that he was right.
It wasn't exactly the most comforting feeling she had ever experienced, but it was there, and she was staring it right in the face. Perhaps he had a point. In order to become stronger, you must face a stronger opponent.
Wait a minute. She was thinking like him. Was that his intention?
She needed to clear her mind.
Shaking her head, she put her hands on her temples, massaging lightly.
The side of her hand touched her right eye, and she saw, for just an instant.
Bubbles and Buttercup floating in front of her, in an alleyway―it looked familiar―debris lifted off the ground, spinning with them. Bubbles was radiating a blue flame―an aura? On the other side of Bubbles, Buttercup, eyes open, but glazed over. She looked calm... almost happy.
She blinked, and looked up in surprise. Him was still there, shaking his head in empathy.
"Blossom, let's let bygones be bygones, so to speak. If you will but take my hand, Blossom, I can help you. Please let me help you." He extended his hand—no, claw, in her direction.
She had finally figured it out.
None of this was real. She was trapped in a sort of dream, if even that. She just needed an escape. Something to lock her to reality in a way that couldn't be broken.
"Take my hand, Blossom."
Never.
Him let slip a twitch; his face grew livid.
She stared at him, saying nothing. Saying everything.
"'Never?' You dare―" he balked, and then snarled, "YOU ARE MINE!" With a wave of his claw, she sailed across the room, held to the wall. He was hovering in front of her now, dark magic emanating from his claws, preventing her from moving, though she struggled as hard as she could. She could see him now, and he was right in front of her, his eyes glowing red, and his features in a furious scowl.
His tone returned, deep and evil. "I have worked hard to bring you down... to take you for my own... and you have the audacity to oppose me?"
He pointed his claw at her, opened it, and she was pressed harder against the wall, and she could hear the boards in the walls creaking and snapping as the wall began to give way to the intense pressure. The pain she felt was very real. Or...
Or was it?
"I tried to be nice. I tried to make you see a different side of things... but if can't convince you to take my side, then I will FORCE you! Join me, right now, or I will destroy your mind, and leave your body an empty husk!"
There was another flash. The alley, her sisters.
She let out a slow breath, and concentrated.
None of this was real. There was nothing Him could do to her.
Her surroundings became fuzzy and immaterial.
She felt the pain subside, as well as the pressure against her body. She pushed herself gently away from the wall, and even as Him stared back at her, full of rage, and with a vicious swipe knocked her across the room, there was no impact; no pain. He was screaming, but his voice was faint, and unclear.
This is my mind.
She puzzled, and held her head, standing as Him moved to strike her again. Her hands passed over her face as she pulled away, and with the slightest touch, brushed her right eye. Buttercup stared dumbly from across the storm; Bubbles―
Him stared her in the face. From a great distance, it seemed, he was screaming.
"Impossible!"
Yet it didn't matter. She understood now.
Her eye.
Her right eye. It was the only thing in this world that had stayed with her. It was the only thing world couldn't recognize. Maybe it didn't know it existed.
Of course it didn't. It was Bubbles, wasn't it? She made the sights, and the sounds. Somehow, Bubbles could now shape others' minds. As to why, Blossom had no time to consider: all that mattered was that Bubbles didn't know what had happened. She hadn't looked deep enough into Blossom's mind to know about her eye.
That was it, that was the key. Her right eye. Of course that would be what did it. Of course it would make sense that it couldn't be fooled―it wasn't made to see what wasn't there. Him was contorting horribly, shaking her around violently, and it made her vision swim, though there was no pain. It was time to end it. She closed her eyes.
Carefully, she opened just her right eye.
The alley had returned to her.
They were in a vortex. Objects where whipping around in different directions, and they were in the eye of the storm, floating as if being suspended by the wind, although she could see the cerulean aura, a visible light from Bubbles' newfound power, and knew it for what it was. But why? Why would she do this?
Bubbles' eyes were closed as if she were in great pain―Blossom suspected this might be the case.
Then he saw a metal cylinder on Bubbles' back.
She was suddenly reminded of the computer's twin. It had hung above her inside the robot; she had been on the verge of life and death after Buttercup's attack. The core... pieces went flying as Buttercup smashed it, and she remembered the feeling of the computer's influence draining from her head.
That's it! She doesn't want to do it at all. It's the computer! That's what's controlling her! Just like me...
She concentrated. She had to have some power left in her somewhere. Something. Blossom drifted directly behind Bubbles.
Dig deep! It's there! Use it!
The psychic storm began to grow more violent. Whatever was moving her sister knew it had little time; debris began spiraling upward, bits of broken glass and metal scratching at her skin as they passed. Blossom desperately searched for something... anything... power that she knew should have been gone. She didn't dare open her left eye, fearing that the combination of distractions might overwhelm her, leaving her exhausted and essentially helpless back inside her mind with the illusory body of one of her greatest foes.
She concentrated harder. The canister on Bubbles' back was right in front of her.
Come on... ANYTHING!
She gave one final push, and it happened. She heard her robotic eye energizing. A bright red ray of pure energy came out of it, incinerating the synthetic coating around her eye, revealing it for what it was and striking the computer on Bubbles' back in an instant. The canister exploded, sending metal, silicone shards, and integrated circuits flying. The ripple of the blast shook Blossom's already frail body, but she didn't feel it yet. She was just glad she had finally won.
Bubbles recoiled with the force of the blast and everything went still in midair.
Bubbles! Blossom is free! She must be―
She gasped as she felt something hit her in the back.
She felt it die and the robotic legs at her spine go limp.
She was free.
After a brief pause, she realized where she was, and what was happening. And she was instantly aware of two other people. Buttercup, in front of her, and...
Blossom!
"So you see, Buttercup," Him was saying, wrapping up his explanation. "I am your ally. The battles you and I have had, the tricks I've played on you, the enemies I've pitted against you...all of these served to turn you into the powerful, perfect little girl that you are today."
She was glaring at him, her anger slowly subsiding, understanding his reasoning, though she couldn't really remember everything that he had said. All she knew was that he was trying to help her rather than hurt her. It was an odd feeling, but it did make sense. Each time she fought, her powers grew, and her strength became her most powerful asset, and one that set her apart from her sisters. She knew it to be the biggest difference between them, and that she had been wrong to flaunt it all these years.
"You are not a bad person, Buttercup. Headstrong, perhaps, but everyone has their flaws. All it stands to show is that you have humanity. This allows you to appreciate life, and it is what makes you a better superhero."
She nodded, on the verge of tears. Never in her life had anyone understood her so well.
He smiled at her, and it made her feel warm. She felt the anger she had against him draining away.
He presented his hand—or claw—to her. "I ask only of your trust, Buttercup. Give me only that, and I shall help you achieve all of your dreams."
She fully intended to take his hand but never got the chance; just as she was raising her arm, her vision went white.
