In the dead of night, Jewel Man crept through the shadowy back alleys of New York City. He had changed into his armor, which he hadn't worn since his last jewelry bust (a dazzling rivière necklace, strung with honey-colored graduated diamonds, all perfect matches, one hundred and sixteen carats altogether. It was a work of art, and he had spent many hours examining each stone under his loupe, admiring the scintillation, studying the precise cuts, learning the technique for himself…).
Jewel Man shook himself out of this reverie as he darted across a sleepy street after checking no one was around. He had been given the simple directive of causing trouble with his new powers so that someone called 'Mega Girl' would appear with something called the 'Sun Crystal', which he was to take from her. It still seemed absolutely absurd. At the same time, he felt the strange, foreign energy build up in his chest and shoot through his circuits like a stoked fire. It seemed to hum in his ears, saying "Use me, use me, use me!"
How? Jewel Man thought. He didn't understand any of this.
Gemstones. He wanted gemstones. It was a simple, primitive impulse—always in the back of his programming like a constant pang of hunger he had for so long tried to repress. Jewel Man closed his eyes, then realized he could sense gems all around him—on humans, in stores, lost in the sewers, buried in the ground—everything from quartz to cubic zirconium to diamonds stood out in his mind like twinkling constellations in the night. His fingers twitched excitedly. Jewel Man had never had powers like this—it would almost be too easy. Yet he could not sense anything like the Sun Crystal—it must be somewhere far outside the city. No matter, his directive was not to search for it, but to use his new powers.
Putting Mega Girl and the Sun Crystal out of his mind, Jewel Man concentrated harder. If he was going to break his vow of giving up crime forever, then he at least wanted something valuable—a diamond, but something above the colorless, generic pea-sized stones humans liked to wear on rings. He sifted through the millions of gemstones around him, each impression twinkling pleasantly at him, then, he sensed it. The Morning Glory Diamond, a single stone of a hundred and fifty-two carats, cut in a spectacular oval with perfect facets. A true one-of-a-kind.
The only problem was it was locked within a safe box in a bank vault—only this didn't seem like a problem anymore, he'd just let himself in. The old tricks came naturally back to him—of secret rooftop entrances, silently cutting holes through windows, squeezing into ducts, dodging around security cameras—until finally he was standing inside a dark bank vault, the walls lined with the doors of safe deposit boxes.
In a dreamlike state, Jewel Man ran a finger down a column, scanning the numbers. He paused at box 1211. He could feel the diamond pulling at him from inside like a magnet.
The energy swirled encouragingly in his chest, and a jewel key spontaneously materialized in his hands. Without pausing to wonder about the key, Jewel Man stuck it into the lock, felt the key's crystalline structure shift until it was a perfect match, and then the safe box opened with a small click. He pulled out its drawer, and opened the small black case inside.
There it was—the Morning Glory Diamond. Jewel Man held it critically up to the high-tech loupe on his helmet. Yes, it was as flawless as it had felt—with an intense, deep bluish-purple color and a brilliant fire of rainbow sparkles. Nearly an inch and a half in length. A marvel. It would look good fitted on a platinum chain—
A harsh light swept onto Jewel Man.
"Hey, you can't be here!" barked a voice.
Jewel Man turned—two security guards were standing outside the open vault door, shining a flashlight in at him. Both had heavy-duty laser guns—the type that could blast through an armored getaway vehicle.
"Why not? I have a key," replied Jewel Man, holding up the jewel key, which twinkled innocently in the light.
"Real funny!" the security guard growled back. "It's after hours and you're trespassing, Pinky! Now put that rock back in its vault and step out with your hands up!"
The other security guards nudged the first one. "Hey, I've heard of this bot. Stole a lot of valuable gemstones from all over the city two years ago, but was never caught. He's as harmless as he looks, but we bust this bot and we recover a king's horde of jewels."
Jewel Man tucked the diamond into his jewel-studded utility belt, which had many velvet-lined compartments for safely storing stolen jewelry. Now, he needed the humans out of the way. But how? He had always hated getting caught in the act—he didn't know much about fighting (he only had ever been good at either stealing or making jewelry) nor did he like to fight—the large pink jewels on his armor could get cracked or damaged, which would be a travesty. He didn't particularly fancy the idea of harming a human either.
The energy in his chest swelled encouragingly, sending power tingly through his circuits and into his fingers.
Falling deeper into the dreamlike state, Jewel Man held out a hand. Like the jewel key, a large facetted jewel appeared, a round brilliant cut style—the classic kind humans most often associated with diamonds—its point hovering an inch above his open palm. It began to rotate slowly, energy charging within as it glowed with a strange violet light.
The humans tensed, eyeing the large jewel with puzzlement.
"For the last time, Pinky, put your hands up," the first security guard ordered, both guards raising their guns.
Jewel Man wasn't listening. He had closed his eyes and was thinking about his lapidary studio—how he looked into raw stones and saw their inner potential, shaping and setting gems into fine jewelry, visualizing crystalline structures…
Meanwhile, the humans found themselves unable to tear their eyes away from the brilliant glowing jewel, which twinkled in mesmerizing radiance as it rotated.
A shaft of light shot out from the jewel, hitting the humans. They had no time to cry out, even if only in surprise. When the light died down, a brass tie clip and coat button sat on the floor where they had been standing. In the center of each of these sat a small gemstone the size and color of lentils—one a grass green aventurine, the other a reddish-brown sard.
As the jewel stopped glowing and fell into his open palm, Jewel Man walked calmly over to appraise the trinkets.
Not bad—not anywhere near a fraction as valuable as the diamond he was stealing, of course—but not bad, each expertly crafted to bring out the very best of each respective stone. Certainly a most agreeable way to take care of nuisances without unnecessary escalation. He supposed he could add them to his collection, safe in display cases…as their Curator.
The energy in his chest burned in satisfaction.
Proto Man and Elec Man were in the middle of fitting missile launchers to one of their jets in the western hanger when Proto Man received an urgent call from Dr. Wily.
"Oh ho ho! My Global Extraterrestrial Radiation Scanner has picked up another source of alien energy!" Dr. Wily's voice crackled excitedly through Proto Man's communicator. "You must come quickly! Wily out."
"Alien energy? Again? That's strange," Elec Man muttered to Proto Man.
"Yeah, it is weird, isn't it?" Proto Man sighed. "Sorry, I better go. I sorta promised I'd help."
"…Why exactly?"
"I dunno, he's still in a slump about Bass and getting all mopey—besides, I am second-in-command, right?"
"You tell me."
"…That was rhetorical, wise guy."
Though he looked thoroughly skeptical, Elec Man grabbed his handheld computer and followed Proto Man out of the western hangar.
As they crossed through the armory, they were tailed by Top Man, who was curious about why they were heading to Dr. Wily's laboratory in such a hurry. Elec Man attempted to chide Top Man for being nosey, but Top Man wouldn't be deterred, and so all three of them headed into Dr. Wily's laboratory together.
"There! It's coming from New York City!" Dr. Wily announced happily as Proto Man joined him at the Extraterrestrial Radiation Scanner. He pointed a boney finger at the purple dot flashing on the scanner monitor's topographical map. "One of my battontons stationed in the city even got a visual of the asset. Look!"
He pulled up the battonton's spyfeed recording on a wall-sized overhead monitor. The view was of a flat, snowy bank rooftop, the dazzling night skyline of New York City shining beyond. A lone set of tracks crossed the roof diagonally up to an exhaust vent. Briefly, they saw a Robot Master in white armor cautiously poke his head out of this vent, look carefully around, before scurrying silently across the rooftop and slipping down a fire escape (Proto Man was reminded a little of an ermine). Though it was quite dark, large, vibrant pink jewels had glittered on his armor.
"Huh. Looks harmless enough," said Proto Man as Dr. Wily rewound the video and paused on the Robot Master. "But remember, your Reprogramming Raygun didn't work on 'Hellrazor.'"
But Dr. Wily didn't appear to hear Proto Man as he stared greedily at the overhead monitor. "A jewel thief! Imagine! With a robot like this on my side, not only will I have powerful alien energy in my arsenal, but I'll be rich! I can build a new legion of attack-bots, much stronger than the ones I've lost! I can upgrade my battontons into an intrepid spy network! I could have all the titanium and super steel I want! The timing could not have been more perfect if it were planned—after all, you did say we needed cash, Proto."
"I did," admitted Proto Man.
Ring Man and Magnet Man were slinking around in the back of the laboratory. The armory was out of double-A batteries (which they needed to power their gameboys) and they had been surreptitiously rooting through Dr. Wily's desk drawers to find extra. Though they usually avoided any of Dr. Wily's schemes (or any work in general), they had paused, their eyes cast upward on the battonton spyfeed with interest.
"Whoa! Pink Panther?!" Ring Man exclaimed. He turned to Magnet Man, his light blue eyes dancing mischievously above his red face guard. "Check it out! Pink Panther is doing crime again!"
Magnet Man nodded. "Nice."
Proto Man looked back at Ring Man. "'Pink Panther?'"
"Yeah, uh, we know that bot. Remember?"
"Uh…"
"Jewel Man, from that ritzy jewelry store we robbed before that thing where you all went to the moon—he was disguised as a human at the time."
"Oh yeah," murmured Proto Man after a moment. He vaguely recalled an android with lavender eyes. "I offered him a job, but he turned it down! Had no idea he was an actual Robot Master."
Ring Man shook his head somberly. "Always knew the temptation would eventually get to him. Probably happier going back to crime rather than working that stuffy jewelry job."
"Was he good?"
"Oh yeah, he was a great jewel thief—except for the part he never pawned his wares. He's not really built for combat either—always stayed away from fights. He started out as a jewelry clerk in one of those hoity-toity joints before going rogue."
Proto Man glanced back at Dr. Wily (who was rubbing his hands together, his bushy eyebrows wagging up and down and looking especially sinister in the dingy laboratory lighting, his eyes unfocused as though imagining a whole vault full of jewels) then asked Ring Man, "…Think you can talk him into joining us?"
Ring Man shrugged. "Uh yeah probably, but we need backup."
"Yeah," put in Magnet Man.
It was obvious why Ring Man and Magnet Man did not want to go to New York City alone. Security was still on high alert since their last invasion when Dr. Wily had sent a legion of attack-bots to search for Bass.
It sounded simple enough. So long as they avoided Mega Man, recruiting Jewel Man could be the jumpstart that Dr. Wily's wicked brain needed to start spinning on new schemes again. They could use the cash—and with any luck, Proto Man would be back in western hanger working on jets before next midnight. Shrugging, Proto Man looked over at Dr. Wily. "I'm game if you are."
Dr. Wily grinned. "We shall leave at once—we mustn't let this golden opportunity slip by! We will sneak into the city undetected. We will find this Jewel Man and convince him to join us. Then, with our new prize recruit, we will have all the firepower we need to bring New York City to its knees!" Dr. Wily threw his head back and cackled. "Ring Man, Magnet Man—report to the Skullker with Cut Man and Guts Man!"
Ring Man and Magnet Man shuffled out of the laboratory.
As Dr. Wily began gathering up printouts from his computer and his radiation detector in feverish excitement, Elec Man turned to Proto Man, frowning. "It's a bad idea for you to get too close to alien energy," he said in a low voice. "Remember last time, you f—"
"I didn't faint! And I'll be fine. What's the worst that could happen?"
"…You could die…?"
"Seriously, don't worry about it. I was fine until I got hit with those purple flames. All I have to do is avoid those. Besides, we know this guy, and actually have a good shot of recruiting him, unlike that last bot who hated any kind of authority."
Elec Man crossed his arms and sighed. "Alright, then I want to come again."
"…Really? This really isn't your kinda of…thing."
Elec Man stuck his nose up haughtily. "I want to take more readings on the alien energy. It seems prudent if Wily continues to mess around with it like an unsupervised and extremely stupid eighth grader mixing chemicals in an unattended chemistry lab."
Proto Man snickered. "It would be kinda ironic if you became the best authority on alien energy at Skull Fortress."
"It wouldn't take much to be the only authority on this at Skull Fortress," Elec Man corrected waspishly.
Top Man, who had been hovering a short distance behind them, was watching Elec Man and Proto Man closely, a small crease appearing on his brow. Finally, he looked over at Dr. Wily. "May I assist in this mission, Dr. Wily? I may not have the pleasure of knowing Jewel Man, but I'm good with talking and can be useful in persuading him to join your glorious army."
Dr. Wily glanced up from his work over at Top Man. "Yes, I could use more androids on this mission," he replied, stroking his chin. "Very well, report to the Skullker with the rest!"
"Yes sir!"
"What are you doing?" Elec Man hissed sharply to Top Man.
"What? If you're going—"
"Don't make this about me. Alien energy is dangerous, remember Lotos—"
"But if you're going…" Top Man maintained stubbornly. He gave Elec Man a fierce glare, which Elec Man mirrored—though to Proto Man's surprise, Elec Man's gaze wavered first with a sigh.
"I'm used to danger—but alright, fine. Nothing to be done now since you volunteered. Just stay close to me or Proto Man, and don't do anything I wouldn't do."
Top Man's face brightened instantly. "Alright, absolutely," he agreed cheerfully, bounding up to Elec Man's side.
Behind Top Man's back, Elec Man cast Proto Man a sharp look. Proto Man responded with a subtle nod and a shrug. Brothers would be brothers. This mission was risky—though so long as Top Man stuck with them, he'd be alright.
The sun had not quite risen yet when the Emergency Satellite Scanner began beeping in Dr. Light's laboratory.
Mega Man (whose alarm usually went off at seven anyway) felt fully alert as he changed into his armor and sped down the stairs, Roll lagging somewhat behind and yawning.
"What is it?" Mega Man called to Dr. Light, who was already in the laboratory dressed in his white lab coat with a mug of hot coffee.
"Call from the police," responded Dr. Light worriedly as he accepted the transmission.
"Dr. Light, this is Captain Paiste of the New York City Police Department," buzzed Captain Paiste's voice officially over through the speakers. "There was a break-in at the North Street bank downtown. A large diamond was stolen from one of their safe boxes, and two security guards are missing. I'm forwarding you footage now."
Grainy black and white security camera footage appeared on the overhead monitor. An unfamiliar Robot Master in pearly white armor adorned with giant gleaming jewels was inside a bank vault, looking almost ghostlike in the darkness, a glittery diamond in his hand. He was approached by two security guards, who appeared to be ordering him to surrender. A softball-sized jewel appeared in the Robot Master's other hand, which he held out to the guards. It began to rotate and glow brightly, then suddenly the footage cut to static.
"The tape ends here, and no signs where either the burglar or the security guards went," came Captain Paiste's voice again. "We're completely baffled. Whatever happened knocked out the security system like an EMP wave. The perpetrator has been identified as Jewel Man, rogue robot guilty of numerous counts of jewel theft a couple of years ago. We were never able to arrest Jewel Man, and we suspect he might now be working for Wily and has taken the security guards hostage—we're requesting Mega Man's assistance to help catch Jewel Man and find the missing security guards."
"Alright, Captain Paiste, we're on it," spoke up Mega Man.
"Thank you, Mega Man. Captain Paiste out." The transmission ended.
Mega Man looked over at Roll with a shrug. "Could be Wily, looks like his type of robot and his type of crime."
"Yeah, and Jewel Man looks harmless enough—dresses a little ostentatious for a burglar (must be taking a page out of Proto's book)—but what's with the light show?" Roll asked, stifling a yawn.
"I've got a feeling we'll find out when we find Jewel Man," Mega Man chuckled wryly.
Dr. Light's eyes flickered nervously between them. "Be on your guard. There may be more to this, especially if Wily really is behind this!"
"Relax, Dr. Light—we can handle a jewel thief," Roll assured him.
The Skullker hovered on the outskirts of New York City, hidden within a wooly gray cloud.
There was a small problem. Unlike Hellrazor, who had used his alien powers to cause mass destruction in downtown Los Angeles and could have been spotted from a mile away, there was no obvious sign of Jewel Man nor alien energy here. In fact, New York City looked much like it always did—packed with tourists for the holidays, but otherwise normal.
"So how do we find this bot?" asked Guts Man dully after a moment of silence.
"Jewel Man is in the city somewhere," muttered Dr. Wily, tapping furiously at his computer. "But I cannot pinpoint a specific location! Even my battontons are useless!"
"So we search the underground then?" said Proto Man. "If he's rogue and at large, that's where he'll be."
"Or robbing another bank!" chimed in Cut Man.
"We know all his old hangs," put in Ring Man, pointing smugly to himself and Magnet Man.
"I don't care where you look, we must find him before someone else does!" Dr. Wily snarled.
"Don't worry doc, we got this," Proto Man told Dr. Wily brightly. To the Robot Masters, he instructed, "Alright, let's split up. We'll form three teams—Cut Man and Guts Man, Ring Man and Magnet Man, then Top Man, Elec Man and I. Don't goof off," he added warningly to Ring Man and Magnet Man, "The sooner we find Jewel Man, the sooner we get out of this freezing dump and corny holiday music. Just remember to keep a low profile, stay in disguise until we find him—we don't need Mega Man nor the cops to know we're here."
Hours had passed since Mega Man and Roll had set out from Dr. Light's laboratory. Despite Roll's optimism about the ease of capturing a jewel thief, Mega Man and Roll's investigation was not going well. Not only had they had no better luck in tracking down Jewel Man than the police had had in the past, but there had been several more robberies.
"More missing diamonds, more missing security guards! It's like they're vanishing into thin air! If we don't stop this bot, he'll rob everyone in the city!" Mega Man told Roll as they soared high above the city on patrol—Roll on her skycycle, Mega Man aboard Rush's jet. It was chilly, and the skyscrapers below were crowned in snow.
"You mean…rich people who will still be rich even when they're missing some diamonds," pointed out Roll.
"Yes, but the missing security guards…" Mega Man reminded her. His eyes were scanning the streets below, looking for the flashing of lights of police cars—but mostly, the streets were clogged with tourists visiting New York City for the holidays—an otherwise normal day. "And if Jewel Man does work for Wily, then Wily will use the diamonds to fund his next mad science project." Mega Man sighed. "So much for this being an easy case, huh?"
Roll rubbed her arms against the chill air. She seemed to be thinking, then a slow grin spread across her face. "I have an idea."
"…I can tell by your smile I'm not going to like it."
"Well, if we can't catch Jewel Man in the act, then we should go to the underground, keep an eye out on black market, see if he's pawning—or at least get a lead!"
"The underground?" Mega Man grimaced. "That's where all of New York City's crooks gather to do business. It's sorta out of our jurisdiction—we just fight Wily."
Roll shrugged. "I can do it. Might be fun."
"But we've never gone there! Dr. Light wouldn't like it…"
"Desperate times, desperate measures," Roll said sagely. "Besides, I doubt everyone's all that bad, and who would mess with us? But I'll go incognito, just in case."
Mega Man groaned. He knew Roll's version of going incognito was wearing the same clothes she liked to wear to a metal concert. Then again, she was right—they had no leads, and this could be their best chance at finding Jewel Man.
Finally, Mega Man smiled back at Roll. "Alright, it's worth a shot."
Bass had been enjoying his freedom as a rogue robot. He felt truly unbothered by anything. He and Treble sometimes took trips to the country to camp under the stars. While in the city pretending to be human, Bass no longer felt self-conscious about his looks, and had even added elaborate purple tattoos all over his body, which now covered his arms, legs, chest, and back.
Still, he was being noticed in the city far more than he liked. Some humans—particularly older ones in expensive clothes—tutted at him and muttered things like "Delinquent." That he didn't care about. But others liked his looks:
"Nice tats, man!"
"Where did you get those red contacts? So cool."
"Dude. Love the hairdo! Rock on!"
"Whoa. Check him out. That guy rules."
Bass found himself drawing the hood of his hoodie over his head again, hoping to get less attention—but worst of all were the amount of looks Treble was getting.
"Whoa…cool robo-dog," some said hesitantly when Treble padded silently by Bass's side, surveying the humans calmly from the corner of his eye.
Others were more dubious. "…That's not a robo-wolf, is it? Better not let any cops catch you with one of those—they're illegal," they warned.
"He's not a robo-wolf," Bass always lied gruffly in retort, at which Treble always gave a soft, disapproving grunt. Treble didn't like being called a robo-dog—it was quite undignified for a robo-wolf to pretend to be a robo-dog, after all.
So, that day, Bass had embarked out into the city alone. Dressed in his human clothing, he entered a dark pawn shop with boarded windows, which was situated between the criminal Underground and the rest of the city. He had already visited several pawn shops like it, for his clocktower hideout needed various supplies—supplies like cloaking devices or specialty equipment for rogue robots and robo-wolves. Supplies that were neither legal nor could be found at regular stores, but could sometimes be procured in the back storerooms of these types of pawn shops (which operated on both sides of the law). Today, Bass intended to see if this shop had energy balancer parts in its stock and if it did, either steal them or figure out a trade.
But when Bass slipped into the pawn shop, he realized someone else was already at the counter—a Robot Master in white armor adorned in vibrant pink jewels. The Robot Master was engaged in a hushed argument with the pawn shop owner. Neither seemed to have heard the doorbell jingle when Bass had entered.
On instinct, Bass withdrew behind a shelf stacked with used VCRs and CD players, so that neither could see him. He listened in—the Robot Master appeared to be pressing the shop owner about valuables within a safe behind the counter, which the shop owner denied he had. Could the Robot Master be one of Dr. Wily's robots?
For some reason, Bass's power core began burning with surplus energy, his pulsar pulse quickening. Part of him wanted to rush in and fight the Robot Master. Perhaps this was just his natural competitive nature, which had been steadily growing with every fight (At first fighting off Dr. Wily's forces had been annoying, but the more it happened, the more Bass wanted to prove himself as the best—that all other robots were just weaklings and shouldn't even bother trying. He realized he even liked fighting!).
…A more sensible part didn't want to get involved. He wasn't wearing his armor, after all (just a t-shirt, gray hoodie and ripped jeans) and he couldn't be sure the robot belonged to Dr. Wily.
Bass hesitated, his fingers twitching restlessly, an artificial adrenaline rush sweeping through his circuits in a tidal wave.
Don't get involved, don't get involved… He tried to tell himself firmly, yet at the same time, he considered stalking forward, quiet as a wolf (he had learned much from Treble)…
But just as Bass was deciding, a brief flash of violet light filled the shop—followed by a ringing silence.
Goosebumps rose on the back of Bass's neck and all along his arms. His pulsar pulse now pounded in his ears. Frowning, he stole a peek around the shelf.
The Robot Master was now on the other side of the counter holding up a radiant plum-colored diamond to his jeweler's loupe, the door of the safe standing ajar behind him. Meanwhile, the pawn shop owner was nowhere to be seen, though an aluminum souvenir pin with a small jasper stone now sat on the counter where Bass was pretty sure one hadn't been before.
Smiling to himself, the Robot Master placed the diamond into his jewel-studded utility belt, scooped up the souvenir pin, then quickly vacated the pawn shop—the only sound of his departure the momentary jingle of the bell that hung above the door.
Bass stepped out of his hiding place, looking from the door to the open safe. He was certain he was alone in the shop now. What the hell had just happened, and where was the owner?
After a moment, when nothing else happened, Bass helped himself to some of the more valuable wares behind the pawn shop counter, then quietly left the shop. He felt tense and alert, though the surplus energy that had been building within his power core was beginning to wane. He decided to forget about the incident and go about business. After all, why should he care about a stupid jewel thief?
Before setting out for her first time in New York City's criminal underground, Roll had changed out of her titanium jumpsuit into a leather biking jacket, ripped jeans, and a Nightmare Fuel t-shirt. She figured that would help her look the part.
It was a dodgy place—low-level criminals of all sorts gathered here. Most buildings looked completely uninhabitable, with boarded-up windows and crumbling walls. Fresh signs of laser gun battles marred every alleyway and every street corner. Yet, there was a weird emptiness about the place—like the stillness after a wildfire. The humans she did see were certainly shady—she could tell some were arms dealers, or smugglers of some kind—though many wore trench coats with the collars up and the brims of fedora pulled down, so that their faces were obscured in shadow—only glittering, beetle-like eyes peered out.
She wasn't afraid—this was exciting. She looked from ominous street to ominous street, taking it all in.
But, as the afternoon wore on, Roll had no luck finding leads. None of the dealers she talked to had received a big jewelry haul recently—it appeared Jewel Man wasn't selling his spoils at all, which left her at square zero.
Frustrated, she felt like she better give up and go back to patrol with Mega Man. After all, her hunch was not panning out. But as she walked out of the underground, her hands stuffed in her pockets in grudging defeat, something caught her eye—something she hadn't been expecting to see in the underground at all, and briefly made her forget everything.
….Perhaps, to anyone else, the human would have looked ordinary. Sure, his style was uncommon (he had an interesting haircut, with short black sides, the top section was white and long and swept wildly forward over his right eye, while two purple stripe tattoos ran from the bottoms of his eyes down his cheeks to his jawline) but otherwise, quite ordinary. He wore ripped jeans and a baggy gray hoodie. Like Roll, his hands were stuffed in his pockets, but he was looking up at an advertisement playing on the overhead screen of a newsstand (the owner was out on a smoke break).
Intrigued, Roll couldn't help but smile as she walked closer.
She could hear galloping guitars over the television's tinny speakers. She was familiar with the advertisement, she nearly had it memorized, for it was for the upcoming metal band tour that she was dying to go see.
"The Unholy trinity of Nightmare Fuel, Carbide Blade, and Gigavolt, on tour!" announced a deep, demonic voice from the television while playing footage of the bands playing to a black sea of screaming fans dressed in spiked leather and covered with tattoos and various piercings. "—Get tickets soon because you don't want to miss out!"
"So, uh, pretty cool?" Roll said as she stood next to the human, nodding up at the television. "Carbide Blade, Gigavolt, and Nightmare Fuel, all together in concert! Everyone says it will be the tour of a lifetime."
The human started at her voice, then went rigid as a tree. He took a quick look at her from the corner of his eye, then looked forward again. Roll noticed he was wearing blood-red contacts. So cool—just like one of the metal bands. They looked really natural too—as though they were his real eye color.
"Yeah," the human agreed. He had a soft, husky voice, as though he were unused to using it.
Roll gave a happy sigh. "Don't you just love the energy of metal crowds?"
"No…but I like the music."
Roll snickered. "You have the same attitude toward concerts as my brother, though at least you like the music. My favorite is Nightmare Fuel—how about you?"
The human thought on this for a moment, his eyes growing distant. "I think I like Gigavolt," he said slowly, as though recalling this information took effort. "They sound raw…wild. Nightmare Fuel is good, but their sound is a little overproduced."
Roll blinked, her smile fading. Time seemed to slow to a standstill. Her eyes narrowed as she scrutinized the human suspiciously. "Have we…met?"
The human also blinked, and made an awkward movement as though to step away from her. "…No."
"…You don't sound certain."
"Oh I'm certain," the human replied uncertainly. He looked really confused. Finally, his red eyes darted back over to her. "My name is Bass—Bass like the guitar, not the fish."
"I'm Roll—Roll like 'Rock and Roll', not the bread," Roll quipped back, suppressing a laugh. Bass was kinda cute, in a shy, awkward way.
Then, she froze.
Bass?
…Bass?!
Bass, like the name of Dr. Wily's new bomber robot? The robot who hated Mega Man?
…No way. It couldn't be. Had to be a coincidence. Roll was sure Dr. Wily's Bass was an ugly weirdo just like Dr. Wily himself. This Bass was cool, and definitely a human. She couldn't really picture him having a problem with Mega Man. Besides—she was sure 'Bass' was a common name anyway.
With that thought she relaxed, then guiltily remembered she was in the middle of an investigation. She looked over Bass again. It was possible he had come from the underground—though he didn't look anything like the sleazy criminals there. There was something wild about his eyes—as though he belonged in a remote forest rather than the city. Roll felt like she could trust him.
"Hey, this will sound weird, but I'm looking for a jewel thief—" Roll told him, "—A robot with white armor with giant pink gemstones. You wouldn't happen to have seen a bot like that around here, would you?"
Roll figured this was a long shot, but to her surprise Bass's brow furrowed.
"Actually, I did," he said in his husky, quiet voice. "At a pawn store nearby, but he's gone now."
Roll felt like she had been drenched with ice water. "He was here? And I missed him? Shit! He's a slippery little thief, I'll give him that!"
Though it was futile, she looked down both ends of the street. Nothing unusual. So her hunch hadn't been far off after all—not that it helped much now!
Bass was watching her, hesitating. "I…I could help you find him?"
Roll smiled at Bass appreciatively—she felt Bass's offer was sincere, and would have even gladly accepted his company—but it would be really irresponsible to involve a human in this investigation. "Don't worry, I'll handle this—sorry, gotta go!"
Without further explanation, she sprinted off down the street.
"Wait," she heard Bass call softly after her.
She turned around. "What?"
Bass stared at her for a moment. "…Nothing," he mumbled, his eyes darting away.
Roll hesitated. Something warm fluttered within her chest. But she smiled, waved, then continued on without looking back.
Later, when she had run several blocks back to her skycycle (which had been left parked beneath a monorail track) she lifted her communicator.
"Roll to Mega Man, pick up!"
"Mega here—any luck?"
"Afraid not. You?"
"Notta. Maybe we should call it a night and head back to the lab—it's supposed to get cold tonight."
"Yeah…" muttered Roll. She hesitated. "…Do you believe in reincarnation?"
"Uh…" Mega Man paused. "I don't know…why?"
"Nothing," Roll replied, feeling foolish. "Meet you back at the lab!"
She dropped her communicator, and then gazed up at the sky, which was beginning to turn yellow as the sun dropped low in the sky. Gray clouds formed a thick canopy above, and were steadily growing darker.
The truth was…Bass had reminded her a bit of Snake Man. She knew that was impossible, Snake Man was gone. She kicked at a small pebble on the ground. She wasn't sure why it bothered her so much—she hadn't really known Snake Man after all. Even though his untimely death had been unfair, it was time for her to let go.
Sighing saddly, Roll grabbed the handlebars of her skycycle, then quickly took off from the city.
After Roll had sprinted off, Bass hurried down the street in the opposite direction.
A human? he thought to himself, I can't be friends with a human! I'm not human!
Yet, even more troubling, he thought—
…Why do I feel like I know her?
….Bass quashed this thought. He didn't like when things he had encountered for the first time felt familiar. Still, the advertisement's music had resonated with something deeply embedded in his code, and didn't completely away from his mind.
Feeling even more confused and restless than he had been when he left the pawn shop, Bass decided he'd head back to his hideout to check on Treble. He put Roll out of his mind as he took two flights of concrete stairs down to the subway, jumping the ticket turnstile along the way.
The subway platform was crowded with holiday shoppers. At first, Bass pushed impatiently through the throng, searching for an empty place to stand (He hated taking human transportation—but flying around on Treble would attract too much attention). But just as he made he found a clearing at the end of the platform, Bass frowned, suddenly becoming alert. Surplus energy was building within his power core again. He felt like he was being watched. Without moving his head, he began to scan the crowd, searching.
All around him were lots of humans who were bundled in puffy down coats waiting impatiently for the next train, but none were paying attention to Bass—none, except for one.
The human had copper red hair and was wearing a brown bomber jacket and a pair of mirrored aviators, his hands stuffed in his jean pockets. Though his eyes were well hidden, he appeared to have stopped in his tracks, and was looking over Bass with his lips parted in an obvious gape.
"Can I help you?" Bass asked pointedly.
"…What are you wearing?"
Bass recognized the voice. "Chh, what are you wearing?"
Proto Man and Bass stared at each other, both taken extremely off guard and each taking in the other's human disguises with skeptic incredulity. Bass had a feeling few had ever seen Proto Man without his visored helmet—and Proto Man liked to keep it that way.
Yet a small smirk appeared on Proto Man's face as he casually stepped forward to stand next to Bass, away from the crowd. They both faced the tracks.
"You look lost, maybe I can help you find your stop…"
"Back off or I'll scrap you," Bass growled out of the corner of his mouth, standing his ground.
"Not afraid of you or even your wolf, wherever he is…but you should know, I'm the original bomber robot. You're just a copy."
"Sounds exactly like what a has-been loser would say."
There was a tense silence. Neither Bass nor Proto Man were looking at each other, their heads still facing the tracks, though Proto Man continued to smirk lightly. Seconds ticked by. As usual, the train was running late—Bass couldn't even hear it coming, and he was acutely aware of Proto Man's presence next to him, as though he could sense him even through closed eyes. Finally, unable to stand it any longer, Bass lunged at Proto Man.
At first, the humans around them didn't notice—it was a quiet, well-contained commotion, certainly quieter than the human's own chatter. Then, gradually, heads turned in their direction, and anxious shouts began ringing out across the platform.
"Someone stop them, they're going to kill each other!"
But no one dared step in. Bass and Proto Man were fighting too furiously—swift kicks, vicious jabs—two extremely skilled martial artists dueling in the subway. The humans watched, completely transfixed, then began to relax. A few even began clapping, impressed. A loose circle began to form around Bass and Proto Man.
"Must be professional stuntman!"
"They're like, almost superhuman?"
"Almost as good as watching robo-impersonators on Broadcast Boulevard!"
"I got twenty on shades, ten on the goth!"
Odds did seem in Proto Man's favor. In fact, Bass didn't stand a chance—not at hand-to-hand combat against Proto Man, who was fighting with a calm smirk on his face, his mirrored aviators flashing in the subway platform's flickering yellow lights. Meanwhile, Bass's hood had slipped off, some of the holes in his jeans had ripped further open, and his left eye was wincing from one of Proto man's punches. The humans whooped like they were at a boxing match, their voices echoing down the subway tunnel.
Hating the feeling of so many eyes on him at once, Bass took off from the platform up an exit toward street level. He could hear the soft footsteps of Proto Man just behind. At the top of the dirty concrete staircase, Bass attempted to jump Proto Man, but Proto Man was too quick—easily evading Bass's surprise attack while trapping him in a headlock.
"Look—nothing personal, but you really should never have existed," Proto Man hissed in Bass's ear as his grip around Bass's neck tightened, putting pressure on his cranial relay cable.
This was it. Bass was going to power down, and Proto Man would probably kill him. Bass struggled furiously, but darkness was already edging around his vision as the leather folds of the bomber jacket sleeve continued to tighten around him in an unbreakable grip.
Bass's struggles faded away as his eyes fell closed, a haze settling into his mind. He felt like he was floating in darkness. Then, through the haze, he sensed something strange—something like energy, but different from plasma power…faint yet familiar, like a warm wind from a hidden sun, and it was coming from Proto Man. The surplus energy churned within Bass's own power core in response.
Bass's eyes snapped open. Without completely understanding what he was doing, he reached up and grabbed Proto Man by the side of his head, concentrating with the last of his strength.
There was a flash of green and cyan light, a short surprised shout, and the pressure slipped away from Bass's neck.
Consciousness returning to him in a rush, Bass scrambled to his feet, then turned on Proto Man, who lay crumbled on the dirty stairs, unconscious, his aviators slightly askew.
Bass's hands tightened into fists. For a moment, he considered finishing Proto Man off—yet something held him back. He could still faintly sense the strange energy within Proto Man, triggering an inexplicable nagging feeling that Bass shouldn't kill Proto Man, even though Proto Man had threatened to kill Bass. It made no sense!
Then Bass looked up, alert. Another set of quiet, quick footsteps were approaching.
"Some other time," Bass snarled, kicking Proto Man in the side before hastily sprinting away.
"Hey. Hey. Get up, Light."
Once again, Proto Man found himself waking up in an unexpected place as he stared up at the stained and slanted ceiling of the concrete subway staircase. Proto Man started, pushed his aviators back into place, looked around wildly, then swore.
Elec Man was crouched next to him with hawk-like attentiveness. He was dressed in a black wool coat over his black suit. "…You fainted again, didn't you?"
"It's not fain—shut up," muttered Proto Man as Elec Man tugged him to his feet. Proto Man straightened his bomber jacket with a tug and cricked his neck. "Where'd he go?"
Elec Man glanced over his shoulder up the stairway into the dark street swirling with snow. "I don't know. Was that Jewel Man in disguise? I warned you to be careful—he did something that caused a negative interaction with your alien energy."
"No, that wasn't Jewel Man, that twerp with the tats was Bass. Get this, Bass is powered by something Wily calls Bassium, which is really just that green meteorite energy that destroyed Snake Man—Bass is like a Snake Man 2.0 or something."
"…What?"
"Yeah, I know, and it looks like the little viper's learning a few tricks."
One brow raising far above his rimless glasses, Elec Man looked from Proto Man back up toward the street.
The video communicator from Proto Man's jacket pocket began beeping.
"Proto, our new asset has been located," Dr. Wily's voice crackled in a near sing-song, a toothy grin filling up the card-sized screen. "Meet the rest at Fifth and Saturn street, quickly!"
"About time, we're on our way, Proto Man out."
"...Aren't you going to tell Wily you saw Bass?" Elec Man whispered as Proto Man stuffed the communicator back in his pocket.
"Pff, no," Proto Man replied curtly. "Forget Bass, he's an asshole anyway. Let's go."
Elec Man nodded. "I left Top Man waiting on the corner. You are okay to do this, right Light?"
"Yes," Proto Man hissed back peevishly.
The early winter evening had fallen over New York City as a light swirling snow began to fall from the sky.
The streets were mostly empty—many businesses had closed early for the holiday, and it was so cold that most of the tourists from out of town had likewise gone home. Only the N.Y.P.D. robo-officers were truly alert through the streets—Proto Man, Elec Man, and Top Man had to take extra caution after they changed back into their armor not to be noticed as they made their way to Fifth and Saturn, which was a popular and upscale shopping district. Still, Proto Man and Elec Man were adept at sneaking, and they had no trouble crossing the city.
Cut Man, Guts Man, Ring Man, and Magnet Man were already in the back alley of a Le Bijou Magnifique, which had a world-famous jewelry showroom.
"See? One of his old haunts," Ring Man called over to Proto Man smugly as they arrived.
Proto Man looked around. He was pretty sure there were supposed to be armed guards and twenty-four-hour surveillance systems within this alley (he would know, he had also stolen from here before) but there was no sign of guards anywhere, and the security cameras appeared to be malfunctioning.
They waited outside. Within minutes, the backdoor opened, and Jewel Man stepped out as easily as though he worked there.
Unlike Hellrazor, Jewel Man looked normal—even if perhaps not at all conventional for a jewel thief. His armor had a bright, pearl-like sheen, and was adorned in vibrant pink jewels. He looked even more harmless in person, almost like a china figurine, though his movements were quick and sly. His eyes also appeared glassy, as though he was in a daze. Proto Man found himself watching Jewel Man closely, though he kept a casual distance with Elec Man and Top Man, his arms folded.
Jewel Man froze as he caught sight of the robots surrounding him. For a moment, it looked like he would withdraw back into the showroom, but he seemed to realize he'd be trapped in there and instead faced them with rigid dignity.
Ring Man approached Jewel Man with a friendly wave. "Hey, Pink Panther! Been awhile, what's up dude?"
Jewel Man's lavender eyes narrowed. "It's not 'Pink Panther.'"
"Fine, Jewel Man, whatever."
"No, not 'Jewel Man' either…I'm the Curator now."
"The 'Curator?'" Ring Man repeated, his brows furrowed. He exchanged a quick glance with Magnet Man, then rolled his eyes with a scoff. "Well you were always kinda uppity. Listen, Curator or whatever, what's up man? I see you're back to old habits."
"What do you want, Pierce?" replied Curator coldly, referring to Ring Man by his nickname from his time as a rogue robot. "If you hadn't noticed, I'm busy, and I'd advise you to stay out of my way."
"We want you to join Wily's team," Guts Man burst in impatiently. It was cold, and he had been stamping his feet on the icy ground.
"Yeah!" joined in Cut Man. "Be a part of his robot revolution get a cut of a bigger prize!"
It was clear neither Cut Man, Guts Man, Ring Man nor Magnet Man were taking Jewel Man very seriously, each eager to get back to Skull Fortress and the warm badlands. Top Man made a move, as though to go help smooth things over, but Elec Man caught him by the elbow and shook his head. Like Proto Man, he was watching Curator warily.
Curator gave a light, disdainful scoff. "…And why would I do that? I can already get everything I want. I'm no fool, what you're really after is my diamonds."
"Duh…well yeah, you and your diamonds," Guts Man replied stupidly. It was all the same to him.
Curator smiled thinly. It was a cold smile, much colder than even the chilly late December night—it was like the still air from a deep, sunless mine. "Oh? And how about one like this?" he asked, holding out a dazzling, brilliant-cut jewel.
Cut Man and Guts Man's jaws fell open as they beheld the jewel resting in Curator's hand. If it was real, it had to be the largest gemstone they'd ever seen, even larger than an apple! Mesmerized, they watched as it lifted slowly from Curator's hand, and began to rotate while twinkling in a mesmerizing violet light. To them, the rest of the world seemed to fade away. Each were thinking about how pleased Dr. Wily would be if they presented him with a treasure—
But then, a flash of light shot out from the jewel, hitting Cut Man and Guts Man, who hadn't even moved, their eyes still transfixed to the rotating jewel in an obvious daze. When the light cleared, a solid citrine paper knife and a solid rock crystal paperweight lay on the frozen ground.
This instantly shifted the mood. Proto Man drew a blaster. Top Man had given a startled gasp, while Elec Man stepped next to Proto Man and protectively in front of Top Man.
Only Ring Man stepped forward, holding up his hands.
"Whoa whoa whoa. Pink Panther! C'mon, it's us! We're your friends! You should have told us you were going back into crime, you coulda joined us at Skull Fortress! Yeah, it's annoying when Wily makes us do work but otherwise it's cool, right Magnet Man?"
"Eh," replied Magnet Man with a half-hearted shrug.
Curator pointed a white-gloved hand at them, the pink jewel bracelet on his wrist gleaming in the street light, his lavender eyes flashing. "You robbed from me. Even before that, you were always bullying me into crimes—and even when I agreed, it was I who did all the work! Neither of you did anything!"
"Yeah…but we're still your friends?" Ring Man pointed out, squinting at Curator as though this were a non-issue. "Listen, use whatever weird power you have now to change Cut Man and Guts Man back and we'll put this all behind us—"
Curator was not convinced. He held out his dazzling brilliant-cut jewel again, which began to float and rotate. "Take a look inside this to see my answer…"
Ring Man blinked, his eyes gazing into the rotating jewel in Curator's hand. "Why? Is it like one of those magic eight balls?—Oooooo, it's so—"
Ring Man was cut off mid-sentence as both he and Magnet Man were hit by the jewel's light. When the light cleared, on the ground lay a flashy light blue zircon set on a golden hoop bracelet with a fine red and white enamel pattern depicting a carnival. Next to it was a rather plain red garnet set inside a small iron horseshoe amulet.
Curator gave a cold laugh. "I don't like doing this, but it's preferable to killing you, right? Now if you all would kindly hold still—"
He looked over at Proto Man, Elec Man, and Top Man—but they had already vacated the scene.
Smirking to himself, Curator was about to pursue but then froze with a hiss. The vibrant pink gemstones on his armor had become jagged, like roughly formed crystals within a cave. Shaking, Curator concentrated, channeling some of his energy into shaping the rough crystals back into proper facets again. Meanwhile, the fingers of his hands had merged and become long, thin, and silvery, almost like jeweler's tweezers. Unexpectedly drained, he collapsed against a wall, panting.
"Sh-shit," mumbled Curator, looking over his new hands with a shiver. They were monstrous—yet (he couldn't help but think) perfect for handling even the tiniest of gemstones with microscopic precision. Then, pulling himself together, he hurried to collect his new trinkets. Never mind the rest—he still needed to get the Sun Crystal.
Everything would all be alright as soon as he got the Sun Crystal.
"Okay…maybe we're in over our heads," muttered Proto Man as he, Top Man, and Elec Man sprinted down an alley, putting as much distance between them and Curator as possible. "Stupid alien energy…it's as bad as mad science!"
"What about Cut Man, Guts Man, Ring Man, and Magnet Man?" Top Man asked anxiously.
"Who cares?" said Elec Man.
"Elec Man's right," agreed Proto Man. "They're…well…expendable."
Top Man looked back down the dark frozen alley behind them. "But…if we could just reason with Jewel Man, then he would return them to normal, right?"
"Don't even try it," Elec Man said sharply.
"Honestly, they're expendable," Proto Man agreed bluntly. "Best to beat it before you become a necklace, got it?"
They had reached the end of the alley, and were now in a deserted and dirty parking lot behind a sandwich shop, the black concrete covered with a light frost. Both Proto Man and Elec Man looked back and paused, Proto Man with blaster drawn and Elec Man with electricity crackling between his fingers—but it appeared Curator was not following them. In the distance, they could hear police sirens converging on Le Bijou Magnifique—not that there would be much for them to find.
Finally, Proto Man raised his communicator to his mouth. "Doc, this isn't working. Your little 'asset' isn't cooperating with us. We need to retreat, regroup, and reassess, pronto."
They waited for a response. Proto Man's communicator hissed in static.
"Proto Man to Wily," Proto Man tried again. "Proto Man to Wily! Shit. Doc? Pick up!"
Still no answer.
"Shit, I think our communicators are down," Proto Man dropping his arm. "We can't leave yet—we gotta find Wily!"
"Well, it's happened again," Quint informed Kalinka and Punk gravely. "Another robot has been infected with evil energy."
They were gathered around Quint's supercomputer in his laboratory in the basement of Citadel headquarters, Los Angeles. Quint quickly summarized his findings. Through a combination of news reports and his own passive alien energy detection systems, Quint had picked up on a new source of alien energy coming out of New York City, and after further cross-analyzing this information with various police reports, deduced that Jewel Man was the latest carrier of evil energy.
"That's him, before he went rogue," Quint added as he finished his debrief, pulling up an old employee photo onto the supercomputer's monitor. It depicted a rather nondescript android in a smart, tailored suit. "Black hair, black eyes, a common style for upscale department stores in New York City, though it is probable he's changed his appearance since then—here's Jewel Man's photo in armor." He replaced the employee picture with one from a wanted poster. Jewel Man's armor was white, his helmet a vibrant pink jewel that was pointed at the top, and a high-tech jeweler's loupe covered one of his lavender eyes.
Kalinka stared at the monitor with determination. "Well, what are we waiting for? We must find him and change him back to normal with justice energy like we did for Punk! The Sun Crystal is surely recharged enough now!"
"I dunno, Kali, something in my circuits is telling me this bot will be tougher than I was!" said Punk, scratching his head.
It took approximately two hours to travel to New York City by Quint's private jet. After activating its cloaking systems, they landed discretely in the middle of a snow-covered park next to the Hudson River. Both Kalinka and Quint shivered and rubbed their arms as they stepped outside.
"Oh. My. God. Why does anyone live in New York, it's so cold," grumbled Kalinka, her teeth chattering. If they were going to go on remote missions like this, she would need to upgrade her armor to be warmer!
"I feel all prickly and weird," muttered Punk, looking around warily. '—Like I can feel that purple energy stuff nearby and I wanna join it, but I can't."
"Must be your inactive evil energy resonating with Jewel Man's," said Quint. "Try to disregard it."
"I know, you don't gotta tell me that, Brainiac!" Punk snapped back heatedly. "…But I think we should go that way?"
He pointed down a street, which was lined with trees decorated in white lights. At the far end they could see a long, rectangular building with white granite walls and Grecian columns.
"A Natural History Museum?" queried Kalinka. "They like, have gems in those, right?"
"Affirmative," replied Quint. "Therefore Jewel Man must be close!"
They sprinted quickly to the museum. Though it was closed, the doors locked, it was not difficult to get inside—in fact, it appeared all of the security systems had been mysteriously knocked offline.
Kalinka looked around the dark exhibit halls. The stillness of the museum (which smelled of formaldehyde and was filled with fossils and taxidermy) was eerie. It didn't help that their footfalls echoed sharply across the tiled floor. And where were all the security guards?
Sure enough, they found Jewel Man within the Hall of Gems and Minerals. He looked mostly the same from his wanted poster—practically harmless—if it weren't for the long, tweezer-like appendages he had in place of hands. in one of these tweezers, he was holding up a sparkling green pear-shaped diamond to his helmet's loupe, which he appeared to have plucked straight out of a display case labeled 'The Crocodile Tear Diamond'.
"Drop that diamond, Jewel Man!" Kalinka called, her voice echoing shrilly through the vast museum halls.
"It's Curator now," 'Curator' replied, turning toward her. He tucked the Crocodile Tear diamond into his jewel-studded utility belt. "And this diamond shouldn't just be lying around on display, someone could steal it."
"Um…" Quint looked like he was fighting the urge to point out the hypocrisy of this statement, but stopped when Kalinka shot him a swift glare.
A soft smile spread across Curator's face. "You must be Mega Girl...I've been expecting you."
"The security guards…what did you do to them?" Kalinka demanded, pointing her wrist-mounted mini blaster at Curator.
"Added them to my collection. Don't worry, they're unharmed—look."
Curator made a sweeping gesture toward the floor. Scattered on the polished tiles around him was an assortment of jewelry—keyrings, tie bars, tie tacks, tie pins, buttons, medals, and more—each featuring a minuscule, inexpensive gemstone. They did not look like they belonged to the exhibit.
Kalinka, Quint, and Punk blinked at the trinkets, confused, then gasped in dawning comprehension.
"You mean—are they—gemstones?" Kalinka asked incredulously.
"Yes," Curator answered, still smiling softly. "They were in my way, now they are works of art: beautiful and immortal."
"Actually, gemstones aren't immortal," spoke up Quint. "All matter eventually decays."
"Yeah, and like, isn't turning people into jewelry forever basically the same as killing them?" added Kalinka.
"I…" Curator's smile faded. In fact, he looked a little disquieted, but then he shook himself. "They are part of my collection now. They will be safe, but they will remain as gemstones unless you agree to my demands."
"Which are?"
"Hand over the Sun Crystal and I'll return everyone to normal—and don't even pretend like you don't have it—I can sense it, just as easily as I can sense every other gemstone nearby."
"How do you know about the Sun Crystal?" Kalinka demanded, unnerved.
"He told me."
"Who?" Kalinka pressed, though her mind had gone instantly to the circular, one-eyed 'shadow puppet' Punk had described.
"I—it doesn't matter. Hand it over or the humans stay gemstones forever."
Quint looked urgently at Kalinka. "We can't give him the Sun Crystal, it's our only reliable source of justice energy!" he whispered.
"No duh, I know!" Kalinka whispered back calmly. "But once we return Jewel Man to normal, anyone he's transformed will go back to normal too. He doesn't look very far gone yet, all we need to weaken him a little."
"On it, Mega Girl!" said Punk fearlessly, folding up into a spiked ball and revving down the exhibit hall. It was a rather fearsome sight, his spikes tearing through the tiled floor as easily as a tractor plow through soil.
Yet Curator merely smiled serenely at the advance and held out a dazzling, brilliant-cut jewel in one of his tweezer-like hands, as though offering a gift. The jewel began to glow with an eerie violet light, like a lantern, and slowly it floated off his hand. Punk slowed to a stop only ten paces from Curator, then unfolded. His eyes went wide, staring into the depths of the floating, rotating jewel—
There was a flash of violet light, then Punk disappeared as a black spinel spike attached to a heavy titanium motorbike chain lay on the floor in his place.
"Oh no, Punk!" cried Kalinka.
Curator gave a soft, velvety laugh, then held the dazzling brilliant-cut jewel aloft, his gaze shifting to Kalinka and Quint. "Care to join him?"
Kalinka and Quint hastily scrambled behind a display case of geodes just in time as a brighter flash of violet light filled the hall.
"So that's how he's doing it—he's charging evil energy within that jewel," whispered Quint. "When someone gets close, he uses it to hypnotize them, then causes a paranormal distortion that transforms them while they're distracted!"
"Poor Punk…" muttered Kalinka.
"You can't hide, Mega Girl!" they heard Curator's voice sing out, his footsteps approaching. "Like I said, I can sense the Sun Crystal. If you really care about the humans and your spikey friend, I would surrender now!"
"I have a quintessence snare," Quint whispered, unclipping a small disc-shaped device from his belt. "We'll surprise him before he gets a chance to use his powers again. Ready?"
Kalinka nodded, then, as one, they both darted around the geode case.
Curator was waiting for them, the jewel rotating slowly above his hand like a top as Quint hurtled the quintessence snare at his feet. It was an improved version from the prototype they had used to trap Punk. A small violet force field instantly surrounded Curator, then began to shock him with violet quintessence bolts.
Don't worry Jewel Man, you'll be back to normal soon! Kalinka thought as she activated the power of the Sun Crystal, took aim with her mini-blaster, and fired.
A shimmering ball of cyan light flashed through the forcefield and toward Jewel Man. It was a direct hit, Jewel Man staggered backward, his arms wrapped around his chest. Yet, something was wrong. Angry violet flames burst out of his armor like a roaring bonfire. Jewel-like mechanical mutations bubbled up on his armor in large, angry pink carbuncles. It was not a pretty sight.
"Crap, it's not working!" Kalinka yelled to Quint. "It just made him majorly worse!"
Staggering under the weight of his armor, Curator cried out in shock and fear, his eyes shut tight. The dazzling, brilliant-cut gem reappeared. It began to glow a much deeper violet than before, evil energy swirling inside as it began to rotate—
"I suggest we restrategize," Quint told Kalinka as they ran for their lives. Behind them, they could hear still hear Curator shouting, the cavernous museum halls lighting up in flashes of violet.
Kalinka gave an annoyed huff. "Ugh, you're right!" She glanced over her shoulder. "Sorry, Punk! We'll come back for you soon! At least you're safe for now!"
After his encounter with Mega Girl, Curator collected his new trinkets and retreated from the museum.
"Play it cool, play it cool. I need to hide, I need to hide…" he muttered desperately to himself.
He was back in the jewelry shop, but still in his armor, which now was half encrusted in sickly-looking pink carbuncles. Too conspicuous. But as he was about to head to the backroom to change, his armor took on a new shape, as if reading his thoughts. It became a thick wool suit dyed in a rich mauve, much finer than any other suit he had ever owned. Even his hands returned to normal—five fingers each—covered in white dress gloves.
Curator smiled in relieved disbelief as he examined his hands, then caught sight of himself in a mirror and started. His hair had gone platinum white!
…But after getting over the initial shock, Curator realized he liked it. In all of his human disguises, he had never had white hair before. It suited him, his long bangs swooping forward into a point next in front of his left ear. However, when he looked closely, he noticed his eyes weren't so human at all, but like lavender gemstones. It was beautiful, yet weird. Even a human might notice he wasn't human if they looked too closely. Curator hastily stuffed a pair of mother-of-pearl glasses on his face to make his strange eyes a little less obvious, then took a steadying breath. There. Almost normal.
The backroom door burst open.
"Lytton!" barked his manager, Mr. Beaumont. "What have you been doing? Haven't you seen the news? We should be locked up, there's a jewel thief maniac on the loose—say…where did all these gems come from? …Lytton?"
Mr. Beaumont's eyes had fallen on the Crocodile Tear diamond, which lay on top of a small pile of beautiful (though lesser) diamonds. A fortune worth many times over the contents of Roquat Jewelers. Naturally, Mr. Beaumont must have recognized it belonged to the Natural History Museum and connected the dots. His mouth fell open, and his eyes snapped back to Curator in fear.
"Wait until you see this one," Curator responded coldly, holding up the dazzling, brilliant-cut jewel.
A rhodonite bead, carved like a wild strawberry and set on a fine wire stick-pin, joined his collection.
Curator bit his thumb and paced the jewelry shop. He had felt a flutter of warmth in his power core, a momentary spasm in his fingers, as though they were about to shift back into tweezer-like appendages—but he had stifled the feeling and it swiftly passed. He didn't like how every time he used his powers, his body had threatened to mutate into something else—something not from this world. He had also been uncomfortably thinking about how Mega Girl had pointed out that really killing someone and trapping them as a gemstone forever were practically the same thing—
"Curator…"
Curator jumped. It was the slippery, disembodied voice again. This time, the shadow was coming from the mirror, slightly obscuring Curator's own face.
"Hey buddy, using a lot of power there."
Curator swallowed, still as a rabbit that had sensed an unknown threat. "I'm sorry. Mega Girl showed up, but she got away. I felt it though—the Sun Crystal—but I…I was changing into something weird. I just want things to be normal for a bit," he responded weakly.
"There's no such thing as 'normal'," responded the voice matter-of-factly. "Controlling your reality to maintain a semblance of your pathetic earthling 'normality' requires a lot of energy…but it's alright. Keeps you closely connected to me, more under my control, heh…and you've come up with such a nifty power set!"
Curator swallowed again. He didn't like how the voice always sounded just behind him as though someone was sneering over his shoulder, nor the feeling of invisible cables encircling him like a snare. He looked at his small pile of diamonds, their presence warm and comforting, then laid a hand over his power core. "What…what did you do to me? What is this thing inside doing to me?
"You're infected with evil energy, not a big deal, don't get so worked up."
"But…I was able to change things—I was changing!"
"Yeah, evil energy is never predictable, keeps things exciting. I've been around for like a hundred kajillion years and I still don't know how it works!"
"…Evil energy?"
"Yeah, don't look at me! That's what you earthlings wanted to call it. I would have called it something cool, like 'badass energy' or 'super awesome fun time energy'. 'Evil' is very judgy IMHO."
"But I don't want to be infected with anything!"
"Really? You don't like having the power to be anything, to do anything? The possibilities are endless when you really tap into it."
As the voice's coaxing words seeped into Curator, the jewelry shop faded from his vision. Curator began having a vivid fantasy—he was sitting on a diamond-encrusted throne inside a crystal palace, drinking the contents of an energy can from a diamond-studded goblet, a garden of diamond roses and chrysanthemums outside, his collection surrounding him in twinkling mountains.
Curator smiled absently to himself, then blinked, and shook himself out of the fantasy. "…I think I'm going insane."
"Sanity is overrated, ask anyone!" responded the voice. "What, you don't want whatever it is you're picturing?"
"No! I'm becoming a monster and I…I won't have any friends."
Curator thought guiltily to the zircon hoop bracelet and garnet horseshoe amulet in his collection. Yes, Ring Man and Magnet Man were jerks, but perhaps he had been too harsh…
A snicker echoed from every corner of the small jewelry shop. "I'll be level with you—understanding friendship is not part of my programming. Just does not compute. Relax! You're not at full power yet! Embrace it, it'll be so much easier when you do."
But Curator was shaking his head and backing away from the mirror and the shadow within. "I don't want to turn people into gemstones or become a monster."
"Curator…" The voice had taken on an unpleasant edge, the shadow in the mirror darkened. "You have agency because I don't like to micromanage. You have control over your powers because I'm playing nice, but I could take your control away…"
A brief streak of pain, like a flash freeze, lanced up the titanium bones of Curator's arm. The limb had suddenly changed into a solid, hexagonal pillar of raw gemstone, cloudy with imperfection, completely immovable, and as ugly as a diseased limb. Curator gasped in horror, staggering under its weight—but then, just as suddenly, his arm returned to normal.
"Heh…psyche!" snickered the voice as the shadow faded from the mirror. "You're going to do exactly what I want you to do because that's how this all works. Now, I need you to focus on getting that Sun Crystal, buddy—add as many gemstones to your weirdo collection as you want—you're doing great! Just. Stay. Focused!"
Curator doubled up, the evil energy stirring inside his chest like a miniature firestorm. He could feel the entity within his programming, like an invisible hand twisting knobs and pulling switches in his mind—
And then, like a great weight lifting off his shoulders, Curator straightened. He stopped worrying about his collection (after all, they had been in his way, and he had done them a favor) and started thinking instead of the Sun Crystal and all the diamonds that yet existed in the world…
With renewed resolve, Curator looked back at his reflection and fixed his eyes. He now looked more human than he had ever had before (even if his pale skin had a slight adularescence, like a moonstone).
Then, with a soft smile, Curator locked up his collection, safe and tight.
To be continued…