Chapter 17 — Idiot Funk / Technologic

A week passed since Luke confided in them about his breakup with Mercy, but things were far from settling down. There was this tangible tension whenever either of them worked. Even when it was just one of them, Yuri felt uneasy, like he might say the wrong thing. He was worried he would offend Luke in some way and cause him to start crying in front of the other employees, and he was equally worried that he would accidentally hint to Mercy that he knows about the breakup. It all seemed like a dramatic mess; Yuri felt insecure about his and Yomotsu's role in this as confidants.

But more worrisome than the breakup, even, was the sudden death of an employee. Just three days ago, it was rumored at work that Ray, who operated the store juice bar, died of a heart attack. He was young and in good shape, and his parents were healthy. Even his grandparents visited the store quite often and could be seen taking morning jogs in the area. It was so strange to Yuri, to think that someone he barely knew but was invisibly tied to have so suddenly died. He had only spoken with him twice, once as a customer, once in the break room. The encounters were nothing special, but now they seemed significant, as the only time he and Ray shared, the only time they would ever be able to share now.

Ray had moved to Graceville three years prior to Yuri and Yomotsu's arrival, after dropping out of college. He went back to Graceville, where his family had gone to retire. The town had such a peaceful reputation, that his grandparents first moved there many years ago, and his parents soon after. His parents had been hard workers, and years of saving and investing allowed them to retire early. His mother was running an online crafts business, and his father was starting to enjoy the housework he never had a chance to appreciate before.

Because of his laid-back attitude, Ray had a lot of friends at work. He was just a nice guy, from what Yuri had heard, even if a bit lazy. Most of the other workers could laugh about it, knowing that it was just how Ray was. Sometimes he'd sneak a few snacks behind the bar and eat when there were no customers. He was always on his phone underneath the counter. Craig never noticed this, but that was to be expected. The new backroom hire, Meilag, was the only one who really seemed to have a problem with Ray. They got into a scuffle on Monday, but it was broken up by Luke before it could really cause an issue.

So it was that the mood was especially peculiar when Yuri walked in to the break room, to find that at one table, Luke was sitting alone, busy on his phone, and at another table, Ben was talking to Meilag. Yuri brought his food—an oat bran muffin, a red delicious apple, and a glass bottle of organic green tea with a touch of honey—to an empty table. He knew that Luke would probably notice that he had not sat by him, but Yuri did not care enough. He just wanted to enjoy his break without anything dramatic transpiring.

"…Still, it's just so weird, you know?" Ben sighed. "Like, you really never know when something like that might happen to you, huh?"

A bag of some sort was crumpled up. Yuri tried to block out the noise, as he peeled off a chunk of the top off the muffin and ate it. It was nice and not too dry. "Life is full of surprises," Meilag mused to the coworker. "Some are unpleasant; some are pleasant, like that fool's death."

Yuri viewed the other table out of the corner of his eye. He squeezed a clump of the muffin's underside into his grasp and brought it to his mouth. This was one of the types of muffins where the top was not the best part.

"Hey, man, watch what you say," Ben whispered back. "He was my friend, and a lot of us cared about the guy. If you're gonna be insensitive like that, talk to yourself, because we don't want to hear it. The poor guy just died."

Meilag tossed his head back and laughed. Yuri saw that even Luke was now glancing at the scene, from the other side. "You make it sound as though his death is a bad thing! Come, come: surely you believe he's in a better place, don't you? Hahaha, don't tell me you don't! Your type are all the same that way. But I could not care any less about him. I am simply glad he is out of my way. I caught him shoplifting two times on Monday. I tried to warn him after the first time, but then he had to go and try to challenge me over the second—if only you would have heard the ridiculous things he threatened against me, against my job, and against my 'rep' at this store. But you wouldn't know, because you think he was such a 'poor guy'! But Luke was there. Luke knows."

Meilag looked over at the other table, and Luke shrunk into his seat and pretended not to hear. He looked incredibly uncomfortable, and Yuri was starting to regret not being over there with him. He took a sip of the tea.

"Anyway, just because I am not the source of his death, doesn't mean I won't delight in his destruction," Meilag said. He rose from his seat and, while throwing away the packaging of his break food, added, "There are so many idiots this world would be better without."

Ben rose as well. His face was flushed red, but he clearly did not know what to say or else knew what he wanted to say and simply instead decided to hold back. They both went toward the door. Ben opened the door first and slammed it behind him. Meilag sulked forward and opened the door quietly. Thus two were left in the room, and Yuri could support his guilt no longer. He met Luke at his table.

"How much do you have remaining for your break?" Yuri asked.

Luke smiled. "Just a couple of minutes." He put down his fork. He had finished his Salisbury steak frozen dinner. "It was… a very long break, listening to those two talk. You just came in at the end. You should have heard Meilag just a little bit ago… I just kind of have to shrug it off, or I will end up flipping out on him someday…"

Yuri nodded.

"I mean, he's a good worker," Luke explained. "Yomotsu trained him, after all. But… He's such a psycho." Luke shook his head. "Really, I was worried you might be pretty weird. I mean, sorry, but I've got to be honest with you. Always gotta watch out for the really quiet types, right? But, you've been cool. I just, uhhh…" His tired moan turned into a laugh.

"What?" Yuri raised his brow. He realized he forgot to move his bran muffin, apple, and tea over to this table, but he could not very well go back for it now.

"I've just been in such a funk lately," Luke laughed. His eyes were wide, staring ahead. He looked so weary, so dismantled. Nothing like the leader he appeared to be before. "Such an idiot funk. Everyone seems so stupid. Everything seems so stupid. I seem so incredibly, incredibly stupid, and the fact that I think everything is stupid just makes me feel even dumber. Like, nothing's changed, except this one thing. I've still got my health and my job and everything. But I feel like that's all stupid, when I know it's not. When I know it."

Luke started to laugh again, and Yuri sat there. He was silent. He was listening to Luke, but also wanted to go get that muffin. Torn between a friend and a muffin, he went with his friend, but there was still the fact that he was only taking a 15 minute break, and that was a big muffin.

"I just, why, Yuri? Why is she doing this? Why do I deserve this?"

Yuri focused again on Luke, only to see that he was tearing up. He searched the room with his eyes for some facial tissue, but all he saw were the cheap, rough napkins that the store put in the break room. "O-over in my jacket pocket," Luke whimpered, as tears began to start going down his cheeks. "I brought a little pack along, just in case…"

Yuri rose and went for the jacket hanging up on the rack. He could spot it easily among the others, after seeing Luke arrive a few times in it. He found a pack of Kleenex tissues in the pocket and closed his eyes. He took a deep breath. The he returned and sat back down, next to Luke. He offered the Kleenexes, and Luke thankfully dabbed at his face.

"I'm such a mess," Luke said quietly.

"Anything held under the fire will boil or burn," Yuri answered, softly. "But once you're taken off the heat, then we can assess the damage. Where you're at right now does not define what you will rise from this as. If you're a mess, it's understandable."

Luke nodded and blew his nose with a Kleenex. "Thanks, Yuri." He stuffed the used Kleenexes into the plastic TV dinner tray, which he then stuffed back into its box, for easy disposal. "I wish we could talk, but I have to go back up front. I wouldn't let anyone else get away with taking too long of a break, so I can't just be a hypocrite

Yuri nodded. Luke threw the container away and headed for the door. He turned, then, and waved in his direction. "Take it easy, Yuri."

He nodded again. "I try." The door closed. Yuri sat for a few seconds, in silence, before realizing that he was running out of time for his break and still had to go eat. He rose from his seat. Along the way back to his original table, he saw something out of the corner of his eye. There was a little white piece of scrap paper sitting on the seat Meilag had been in. If Yomotsu had taught him anything, it was an appreciation for tidiness and cleanliness above all: so Yuri grabbed the paper and headed for the trash.

Right when he was about to throw it in, he happened to turn around and see a large, black creature standing, slightly hunched forward, by his table. The creature was biting into his apple with its sharp teeth, until it quickly whittled the fruit down to the core and dropped it into its large, blue-lipped mouth. The creature then turned its head toward him.

Yuri was startled so greatly that he nearly toppled over the trash can. "Wh-wha—?"

The creature tilted its head. "Oh?" Its yellow eyes glared on, expressionless. "You can see me?"

Yuri nervously nodded his head. He tightened his hands into fists and was about to ignite them in fire—but then he remembered that there is a camera in the break room. It picked up only video, but no audio. The creature acted surprised that it could be seen, so there was the chance the camera would not pick it up either, but the camera would certainly pick up on an employee summoning fire into his hands.

"What's that in your hand? Is that a piece of the Death Note?" The creature lifted slightly off the ground and moved toward him. Yuri wanted to run, but he knew that would only look bizarre to the camera, if it indeed would see nothing in the room but himself. He remained standing, even as the creature leaned forward, to get a close view of what he was holding.

"I did not even realize he had left that here. That's not like him, to be so careless. I think I must have been so busy, looking at your apple, to have noticed…"

Yuri calmed himself. The creature clearly was not about to eat him alive, at least not at this very moment. He would think of what to do when in that situation, should it arise. "Wh-what are you?" Yuri asked, tilting his head so that the camera would not pick up his lip movement.

"Hmmm." The creature considered things for a while. "As I'm on no one's side here, I suppose it would not be against the rules to tell you… In fact, it just might make things more interesting. I'm a Shinigami. And what you're holding is a piece of the Death Note. Anyone in possession of a piece of my Death Note can see me. My name is Ryuk."

Yuri looked at the piece of paper pensively, then up toward the Shinigami's face. "What is a 'Death Note'?"

Ryuk considered things further and then, dropping to the floor, answered, "A notebook that we Shinigamis use to write in the names of people who will die. But when in the hands of a human, its owner can use it to kill anyone he knows the name and face of. The current owner is quite extraordinary. He will probably be the one to kill you. Most are reluctant to write much in the Death Note, but he was quick to put it to use. Humans are so interesting!"

Yuri's eyes widened at the clear possibility. Not so much out of deliberation, but out of impulse rather, he blurted out what was on his mind. "Is this how Kira is killing criminals?"

Ryuk, who so far had been with calm interest corresponding with Yuri, let out a cackle. "You're quick, Yuri."

The NEXT's heartbeat was racing. In his hands was a scrap of a Death Note, a book that could be used to kill anyone with a known face and identity. It was the tool of the Shinigami, and now it was Kira's ultimate weapon. "Are you… working with Kira?" Yuri asked. He felt confident now that he could ask Ryuk questions with safety, but he had to make sure.

"Well, see, it's rather complicated at the moment," Ryuk answered. "I dropped my Death Note in this world because I was bored. Being a Shinigami can be very boring. After a while, some lose track of time and simply forget to write more names down in their Death Note, and they wither away. You humans, however—you react so strongly to the power to kill other humans when given the chance. I am linked to my Death Note's owner, but I am not trying to protect any human's life. I am not working for Kira, nor is Kira working for me. We just have similar interests. But one of my interests is apples, and since I ate yours, I think I can give you a bit more information."

Yuri, for the first time since seeing this hideous creature, smiled. He had now had hope of catching Kira before Kira could catch them. For now, though, he would keep silent about this, even with Yomotsu. He could not afford to let anyone else know, lest the unthinkable happen—something so dangerous as this scrap of paper, something so dangerous as the power it possessed, could not fall into anyone else's hands. Yuri had questions for Ryuk, and he would have to have apples to match. But he was careful to hold on to this scrap of paper, and he was careful to keep an eye on every move Meilag would make from here on out.

Everything came crashing down. It was actually very peculiar. Yomotsu was just Snapchatting a friend (haha, no really, he doesn't do that, but imagine if he actually did and understood the messages he received (but seriously, he doesn't do that)), when the connection on his phone abruptly quit. At that same time, the Dead End CD that Yuri had been listening to in the same room began to skip and go haywire, before powering off. The TV, which had been set to JusTV, shut off for the first time in a week. The refrigerator stopped running. Next went the lights.

Granted, Yomotsu really did not notice that too much. He thanked Yuri, appropriately, when he ignited a flame in his palm to illuminate the room—but he really was impartial on the matter. In fact, as Yomotsu would later recall, he was certain he laughed at Yuri in the first moments and said something along the lines of, "Ha, now you're blind, it must be awful to be you! HAHA!"

Yuri, whose yellow suit and blue-and-white polka-dotted tie were cast with a greenish-blue hue from the sustained flame, rose from the couch. "My luck, the CD's probably ruined," he moaned. "And that cost me over $35.00 to purchase and ship here…"

Yomotsu sighed. "If only my Justice Diary was working, then we could catch the culprit responsible..." It had been over five months now since he last had received an update. When he pressed the play button, all he could hear was the same message relayed: that he would defeat a great evildoer in Graceville. Even as they fought criminals nearly every night, even as he worked hard for justice by stocking the shelves at Yum Yums, it was apparently not good enough for his Diary.

"So, you're also assuming that there is someone behind this?" Yuri chuckled and likely flipped his hair. "Well, if we both are getting that feeling, that it must be something substantial." There was a pause, and then Yuri let out a sudden shout. Yomotsu, who had been advancing with ease toward the hallway, whirled around.

"Yuri, are you alright?" He assumed a fighter's stance.

"Y-yeah, I'm fine," Yuri responded, in a strained voice, "I just… tripped over a pretzel."

Yomotsu nodded. "Ever since Luke threw those pretzels… I'm still finding pieces."

"It came out of nowhere," Yuri added, with a laugh. "But, I think I am alright now."

Yomotsu cracked his knuckles. "If we're going to stop this desperado, we will need to suit up with the according attire."

After helping Yuri downstairs, Yomotsu ran back up to don his heroic, skin-tight clothing. He stretched on his Transformation Gloves and pulled into his Transformation Tights. Yea, he buckled the Transformation Belt and shouted, "HENSHIIIIIN" like a bat outta, well, Yomotsu Hirasaka (Yomotsu Hirasaka is a slope descending into the underworld in Japanese mythology (THE MORE YOU KNOW (CBS CARES))).

He then, out of courtesy, helped Yuri, now in Lunatic attire, up the stairs. Even with his fire to guide him, he was having some trouble. For whatever reason, his powers appeared weaker than usual—but when asked about it, his partner declined to answer if anything was going on, instead emphasizing the need to stay focused on the task.

The 12th slammed the door shut behind him (a front door that now had a doorknob, thankfully), and raised his hands into the air, slowly bending his fingers inward, laughing in the night. "From the abysmal cave of retributory contemplation, there has ignited a swift reckoning—the Righteous Tsunami!" The garage door, by the time he pronounced the last two words, had begun to open with a creak.

"Flawless timing," Lunatic said, quietly. "But I feel as though we have more to worry about than mediocre theatrics…"

The entire town was cast in darkness. The streetlights were all vacant of even the slightest spark. All of the windows were without a glimmer of light. The flames in Lunatic's hands and glow around his body now were extraordinarily conspicuous, glaring to anyone within a reasonable distance. He had his crossbow ready, just in case they were about to be ambushed outside of their house.

The 12th leapt from the front steps onto his Righteous Tsunami; the motorcycle had started up and actually drove out of the garage in this time. The 12th stroked the vehicle's gas tank. "My poor child, have you missed me? Oh, how beautiful is your purr! Aw, how sweet is that sound! In a world where electricity is scorned, there is nothing like unleaded gasoline." Lunatic could be heard lifting into the air, and the 12th accordingly readied himself to ride.

"The whole town is quiet… At this hour, most people are asleep. Do you hear anything?" Lunatic asked.

A thumbs up was raised from the rider of the Righteous Tsunami. "Where do you think we're going?" From within the giant eyeball mask, Yomotsu grinned wide. It was true; the town was absolutely silent. Whoever was behind this, they were attacking when the town was suspiciously quiet. Rather than try to cause havoc during the day, this had been carried out by an expert at a time when there would be the least reaction. Something else was on this troublemaker's agenda.

But there was definitely a sound coming from somewhere nearby: it was a moving sound. There was a vehicle, a bus it sounded like, driving through town. There were a few other vehicles on the street, but there was something especially notable about this bus. It could be that it was unusual for a bus to be driving through Graceville at 2:00 am. It could also be, perhaps, that from inside the bus, a recorded, highly distorted voice was blaring on repeat, "WE ARE KIRA. WE ARE KIRA. WE ARE KIRA."

Two screeches were loosed into the air at once: one from Lunatic, above, and one from the Righteous Tsunami's wheels. They raced forward, the former following the latter's ears. A few people were starting to walk out of their houses and look around in dazed confusion. They were speeding by houses fast, but the 12th could not help but hear supporters calling out from their doorsteps: "It's Lunatic and the 12th! The heroes of justice! They'll figure out what's going on!" Others were shouting, "Wow! It's really them! I haven't seen them this up close before!" There was also, "How cool! I love justice!" And one guy said, "Thank goodness! It's about time someone gets my toaster working!"

At last, the bus came into sight. It was parked in the middle of the road, engine running. "If they intend to make a quick getaway," the 12th whispered to himself, "They will realize that fate is even quicker!" The 12th brought the Righteous Tsunami to a halt by the bus and hopped off. Lunatic landed by his side.

"The cells of Graceville has a home for your accursed soul," Lunatic began, aiming his crossbow. "Repent, sinner, and atone fo—"

"Oh, shut down, will you‽"

Lunatic lowered the crossbow slightly and observed. The 12th could hear the speaker hop out from the bus, but he did not even need to see the face. He knew the identity immediately.

The 12th pointed his finger at the ne'er-do-well. "Wi-Fi Man, it's you!"

That short distance away, a laugh dully resounded from inside the criminal's monitor head. "So you've made the wireless connection, without even needing help setting up the router! Hehehe! It is indeed I, me, the legendary Wi-Fi Man! You thought you could send me to the trash heap, but fate knows better than to throw away good hardware—I've instead been upgraded and updated, complete with new antivirus and FIREWALL!"

Suddenly, a burst of heat radiated toward the 12th, but his senses were keen enough to draw him away from the jet of fire. As he leapt out of the way, he could feel by the temperature of the blast that this was red fire, not the more powerful variety that Lunatic had at his disposal. Still, the element of surprise was there—in no way had 12th expected Wi-Fi Man to have a flamethrower at his disposal. He could not ascertain at this point in time what else his enemy had at his sleeve, and he silently hoped that Lunatic would give off some verbal clues.

"Weren't expecting that, ehhh?" Wi-Fi Man taunted, presumably with one hand his hand on his hip, sassily, and the other hand holding his smoking weapon up. "I'm something of a Trojan horse this time around—but my malware is less malevolent than you might think! You see, I feel like telling you everything. I'm not such a bad guy, at all. I have all the Intel, and I've got the processing power to boot—and yet, and yet, I have but very humble, lowly aims."

Enough silence passed to indicate that Wi-Fi Man's ego needed to coaxed, and he would not give up his information to a disinterested audience. Lunatic, nearby and above, was prompted to say, "Explain yourself, sinner."

Wi-Fi Man was happy to oblige. "Ever since you two teamed up, you've been causing a defragmentation of criminal activity—drawing all the small-time villains to this one town, filling up the prison with so much raw data, of all different file types. Now, of those files, I pride myself on being the first to be defeated by the 12th before this new era began—and so I feel like I have a place to assert. Simply, I am worth too much to be deleted, and it appears there's a user who wants to execute functions unknown to mere human before—and if K is for Kira, then KB is for Kira Bites. And Kira bites, I assure you, when you're a criminal in this new era. He hasn't turned on me or the others in the Graceville prison yet, but I'm no fool. Kira is going to destroy us all, and if my suspicions are correct, you two as well—once your usefulness is void."

The 12th glanced up at Lunatic.

"So, I managed to convince a few associates in my network to join me in a desperate escape," Wi-Fi Man continued. "We know that exposing ourselves like this is risky, but there appears to be only one way for our existence to continue. We cannot defeat Kira. We must survive in his world now, just as we survived in the old world—on our own terms. And our terms, this time, are quite simple: We surrender you to Kira, compressed onto a disc, and let him do with you as you will. In return, we will demand to be spared from that infernal, eternal recycle bin."

Both vigilantes had some time to think on what had been suggested. For the 12th, not much thinking was required, and he suspected the same to be true for his partner. By no means could they trust Kira to actually hold true to an agreement such as that, and by the sound of it, they had no present means to contact Kira. If Kira would make any deal with them, it would be on his terms, and nothing would stand in the way from Kira simply killing him and the other criminals working with him at the first opportunity.

"You are a coward!" The 12th concluded, retrieving something from his belt. "There is no point in arguing with someone so obviously deluded! Your technologic is clever, but the righteous are proven by their triumph over evil. We have no choice—we must send you back to whence you came, fiend!" He sent the little bomb in his hand ahead, toward the small-time criminal and his little tour bus.

However, the bomb, when it was only within a couple feet of the bus, suddenly was flung backward. The 12th was in its direct target path, and even he was so caught off-guard that he found himself unwilling to move in time. Where he was stunned, however, another was there to save him—but it was not Lunatic who flew in for his rescue. No, when the bomb was sent toward the 12th, it was someone else who rushed him out of the way.

The bomb exploded behind them; thankfully it was a small incendiary, and so they were at a safe distance. However, this whole area was beginning to burn like an inferno; even in the 12th's skin-tight clothing, he was starting to feel the heat. The stranger, who had thrown him to the ground after distancing them from the impact zone, reached for the 12th's hand and pulled him up.

"W-who—?"

The 12th was brought up, and the stranger whispered in his ear (the side of his giant eyeball head), "Shhhhh."

With that single hush, he heard something like water rush past him. He realized that there was a hand on his back, and he was being gently pushed forward, and his head was moving as though through water. In that whispered "shhhhh," he heard the voice of Olivia Walkins, the purr of Dostoevsky, and at the same time, his own thoughts reverberating in his head. The voice was undiscernible, yet it was tangible. It was within reach. It had an unfamiliar familiarity about it—like someone one always sees walking the hallway at school, yet never has had the chance to speak with before, until suddenly they both have class together and become good friends. The pat was like when, sitting on the swings at school, the young Yomotsu would wait for someone to push him, and usually no one did. And he'd just sit there, waiting, and eventually, a teacher might come and give him a push and console him.

And he turned around, and the figure was silent—imperceptibly so—and so he could not be sure if the figure was there or not. But that whisper, spoken through a mask, the mask of a silent observer, both consumed his thoughts and brought his thoughts back into focus against Wi-Fi Man. He turned his back toward the stranger; there or absent, the presence was with him.

"And here I was, about ready to explain to you that the 'firewall' update has just as much to do with my bus' force field as it does with my personal arsenal, but then you go and tarnish the effect," Wi-Fi Man whined.

"We're prepared to tarnish more than just your boasting," Lunatic threatened. Then, from what the 12th could discern, Lunatic descended upon Wi-Fi Man and locked into battle with him. A satisfaction tingled through the 12th—Lunatic was a formidable opponent, and Wi-Fi Man was nothing more than a nuisance compared to the likes they had been facing recently. However, when Wi-Fi Man hinted that he had staged all of this to draw them there, he was being quite serious.

As Wi-Fi Man dodged Lunatic's flaming fists and kicks, returning with his own attempts, a huddle of men poured out from the bus. There must have been about a dozen there, judging off the sounds of the footsteps. The 12th imagined that they all were wearing keyboards on their chests and had computer speakers for heads, but really, he had no way of knowing—they were totally silent, and because of the bus' speakers blaring, he could not flawlessly perceive the unseen as sometimes was his habit. He also preferred to think that they were all in their underwear and had really scrawny, funny-looking legs, but that was more of a motivational sort of thing.

Each of the men then thrust their arms forward, and a great splash was heard—a wave of water fell down upon Lunatic, as they emptied their buckets. Not only was Lunatic confused, but his smoking form sizzled and collapsed at Wi-Fi Man's feet.

"Hehehe! Are you functioning properly, Lunatic? How many digits am I holding up? Repeat after me: BEE BEE BOO BOO BOP."

Lunatic, dazed, muttered back, "Bee bee… boo boo… bop?" He passed out and was unprovoked, even when Wi-Fi Man gave him a sharp kick to the side, just to test the effect. With that, Wi-Fi Man and his men turned at once to the 12th. He heard each man pull out something from a backpack strapped to their back—all except for Wi-Fi Man, whose backpack was this time around what his flamethrower was plugged into. He let loose a jet of fire into the air, which was the signal for each in his command to open up his bag of pretzels.

"What are you up to, despot?" The 12th cried out, taken aback.

"Why, we were just going to drop all of these pretzels on the ground!" Wi-Fi Man answered, very much snarky.

He physically recoiled from the possibility. "But… Littering—is a crime!"

"Hehehe! And so should your ugly face!" His opponent answered.

The 12th paused. "What?"

"Your face," Wi-Fi Man repeated, a little sadly. "It's so ugly it could be a crime. IT'S A JOKE."

"But you don't even know what my face looks like!" the 12th postulated.

"Listen, you lump of pixels! Surrender now or I'm going to scatter the contents of all these bags of pretzels down this road."

The 12th froze. Wi-Fi Man had truly done his research. Few things could upset the 12th more than such profound littering. And yet, he knew that Lunatic was already defeated, and everything was depending upon him. If he failed now, he would not only be letting himself down—but he would be letting his friend down as well. Yet he could not bring himself to give such a bold command—how could he condemn this street to so many pretzels?

"JUSTICE NEVER SURRENDERS!"

The rush overtook the 12th again. From behind him, the masked spectator charged. Wi-Fi Man was ready with his flamethrower, but the determination of the figure kicked in, and the fiend was too slow. The observer pressed firmly on the power off button on Wi-Fi Man's monitor head, and at once, the fight had been won.

Wi-Fi Man began to quiver, and his knees were audibly shaking. "B-but, I don't w-w-w-ant to log off, my session has not yet expired!" And yet, susceptible to flaws like any man, Wi-Fi Man collapsed a short distance from where Lunatic was beginning to stir. The men at Wi-Fi Man's command fell five seconds after their leader, automatically. The only two standing, then, were the 12th and the stranger.

The 12th closed in the distance.

"That voice…" he said.

The stranger chuckled.

"That justice," she answered back. "You know, you were pretty good tonight."

The 12th was underwater again. "But…" His voice sounded like it was being carried through the ocean. It was so muffled under the pressure. "But I couldn't have done it without you."

She chuckled and then, underneath the mask with the eyeball design, responded, "Justice can't win without a little Mercy."