Chapter 8

This couldn't be happening. There's no way he could have survived the invasion! How did he escape? It couldn't be him… He'd have to be dead…

And yet, there he was, plain as day, just the same as the countless times I had seen him before at Tapper's. Though he looked infinitely more intimidating with his full-body armor and the militant look on his face, there was no mistaking his red hair and overly pronounced jawline.

"…GLASS JOE?!"

All I could do was continue to gape at the sight of this boxer, the last person I would have expected to endure an all-out attack on the arcade. He gave a slight chuckle at the sound of his name. "Oui, c'est moi. Qui est-ce que vous attendiez? (Yes, it is I. Who else were you expecting?)" he said matter-of-factly.

Citrusella and I exchange looks. This was incredible. Getting to be part of this so-called resistance movement was one thing, but a resistance movement spearheaded by a woman who once knew Wreck-It Ralph and a man presumed dead from Cy-Bug attacks was something else entirely.

"I… I definitely wasn't expecting to see you," I say, still taken aback by his presence. "Whenever you fought at Tappers, you never seemed very… er… tough. And with all these Bug attacks… I never thought you would make it out of your game in time."

Glass Joe chuckled again. "Bien sûr que non. Personne ne pense donc hautement de Glass Joe, le verre des mâchoires de la France. (Of course not. No one would think so highly of Glass Joe, the glass jaw of France)." The redheaded Frenchman unzipped his pack and withdrew a large blaster, similar to the one Kohut used to battle the Cy-Bugs. "Mais ce que personne ne sait, c'est que j'ai le meilleur chasseur avec un fusil! (But what no one knows is that I've the best aim with a gun around!)" he added, cocking his weapon.

Before I can ask the obvious question of how he developed such good aim, Calhoun cuts me off. "Well, well, well, it looks like you two redheads know each other. That'll make your training all the more easy." She hands Citrus and I a pair of large duffle bags that presumably contain our supplies. The woman must have titanium in her arms- the bags look relatively light in her hands, but the second we take them, their weight makes us fall over.

"Careful with that armor, rookies! Those gold coins of yours ain't gonna cover a scratch on those supplies," Calhoun snaps at us, before turning to face Glass Joe. "Lieutenant! Kindly escort Bing-Bing and her sister to the bunkers," she orders him. Thinking for a moment, she adds, "And make sure they don't go running off to any more picnics this time."

The French ex-boxer responds with a salute, before ushering us out of the Sergeant's quarters and out of the game.

…

Evidently, the unexpected visit to Hero's Duty had been too much for Citrus. The moment Glass Joe deposits us into our room in the bunkers, she flops onto her cot, void of energy, a weary expression on her face.

I, on the other hand, can't sleep. And who could blame me? Not only have I just learned of a resistance movement against the Bugs, I've been offered the chance to take part in it. What reasonable person would turn down an opportunity to be the greatest hero in the arcade? To put an end to all this pain and suffering? To follow in the massive footsteps of Ralph?

Besides, my code tells me it would be the right thing to do in this situation. In fact, it's the only thing I can do, now that my characteristic love and compassion has the deficit of Vanellope. Even after all that's happened between us, I still feel guilty for what I did to her, and now only a good deed to this extent will absolve me of that guilt.

Vanellope had known Ralph… wait. If that woman from Hero's Duty had known Ralph too… could that mean she had known Vanellope as well? My mind is full of questions again, and while Citrus tries to sleep all I can think about is the impending return to Hero's Duty, and eventually, to Sugar Rush.

"Just think, Citrus…" I tell her. "Before we know it we'll be going back home. No more Bugs. No more fighting. Everything's going to go back to normal."

Citrusella groans and rolls over to face me. "Jubi, I don't like this," she says groggily. "I don't want you to get hurt… I would rather die than watch you get killed…"

I slide out of my cot and wrap her in my arms. "No one's going to get killed, Citrus," I reassure her. "Not me, not you, nobody. I promise. Just you wait, Citrus. This arcade's going to be peaceful again."

My promise of peace was all that she needed to finally fall asleep in my lap. Carefully I slide off her cot and try in futility to get some sleep. But the sleep doesn't come and my mind wanders back to tomorrow's training, my first step to setting things right for good in the arcade.

…

At the first wake-up call that resonates through the bunkers, I instinctively jump out of bed, running over to the duffle bag that bears my name.

The scuffle wakes up Citrus. "Ugh, Jubi…" she groans. "I'm trying to sleep…"

"Come on Citrus, get up! It's training day!" I gingerly help her out of bed before running back to my bag.

Citrus tentatively approaches hers. "So what's in these, anyway?"

"No idea. Our uniforms, probably," I say. "I'll take this to the bathroom and try mine on first." I tug on the bag, but I've forgotten how heavy it is and it doesn't budge. It takes a minute's worth of dragging the bag before I finally reach the bathroom.

I unzip the bag and examine its contents. I instantly find what was weighing the bag down- a heavy-duty Cy-Bug blaster. After digging through the bag for a few moments, I finally find what appears to be my uniform. But when I pull it out of the bag, my heart sinks into my stomach. It's a skintight black protective suit, similar to the one Calhoun was wearing during our meeting.

I glance back and forth from the uniform and my own outfit, and gulp as the truth sets in: I'm going to have to undress. I've always hated undressing- I was programmed with this outfit, and taking it off makes me feel like I'm shedding a part of my code; a part of myself. But if I'm going to stop this invasion once and for all, it has to be done.

Once my shoes, socks, skirt, jacket, and top come off, I start wrestling with the too-tight uniform when a knock on the door interrupts me. Citrus runs to answer it as I listen through the bathroom door, fully expecting to hear the voice of Glass Joe. When I instead hear Taffyta's, I clumsily hurry out of the bathroom to greet her, forgetting about the suit, and end up collapsing in a heap on the floor half-naked.

Citrus laughs and Taffyta remarks, "Whoa, Jubes, you look like you're on your way to Dance Dance Revolution! Too bad it got chewed up by Bugs."

"Hey!" I scowl at her, blushing, as I hurriedly slip on the rest of my uniform. "Hey… shut up!" I've never been good at making insults.

Taffyta smiles. "I heard you were going to help those guys from Hero's Duty stop the invasion, so let me be the first to say thanks."

"Aw, Taff," I say, stumbling towards her in my skintight uniform for a hug. "That means a lot to me."

"Yeah," she shrugs. "But hey, listen- before you go, just in case I don't get to see you again… there's something you should know." Suddenly, a worried look crosses her face as she folds her arms. "Jubi, look, there's something we should talk about. I…"

Her statement is cut off by the sudden arrival of Glass Joe. "…Never mind. It looks like you guys should be going," she says. "Good luck, Jubes." She sidesteps the approaching Joe, hurries back to her room and slams the door.

"Wonder what that was all about," Citrus says snarkily, as Glass Joe steps into the room to take Taffyta's place. "Alors, sommes-nous prêts? (So, are we ready?)"

"One more thing," I answer, as I reach into my bag and pull out the final piece of my suit: a large helmet. Looks like you won't need your hat or pigtails anymore, I think. In an act of finality, I whip off my cherry cap and yank out my hairties, and my red hair falls to my neck as I strap on my helmet. "Come on, Citrus. We've got an arcade to save."

…

Before long, Citrus and I are standing side-by-side in matching uniforms outside the training bay within Hero's Duty, each of us carrying a blaster over our shoulders. I glance over at my gun, wondering just how I'm going to get used to using it.

At least it looks like I'm not the only inexperienced fighter. The troops from Hero's Duty have evidently been rounding up a ragtag lot of volunteers from all across the arcade, some well trained (Ken, Ryu and Solid Snake), some not (Pooka, Fygar, and Miles "Tails" Prower). They're a determined bunch, but they'll still need quite a bit of target practice.

The Hero's Duty soldiers are helping the newcomers get their uniforms and weapons in order, when Sergeant Calhoun and Lieutenant Joe enter the training bay. Immediately, the soldiers fall into position with a "Ten-Hut!", as the inexperienced fighters try their best to imitate them.

"All right, listen up ladies!" Calhoun calls out. "I don't care what kind of cutesy platform-strategy game you come from or what you used to do for a living, because now you're here to help protect the arcade at all costs!"

"Vous avez entendu son. Nous avons à faire tout ce qu'il faut pour arrêter cette invasion à jamais. (You heard her. We have to do whatever it takes to stop this invasion for good.)" adds Joe.

Suddenly the gate to the training bay begins to open, revealing not a practice area filled with targets, but to our horror, a barren, alien landscape infested with real Bugs.

"Your training begins now," says Calhoun, "so do exactly as I say if you want to make it out of this game alive. You ready, rookies? Let's find out."