Jack-Bots swarm their creator from all directions, taking scattered positions around him and the already-present Guards. They're quick to join in on the evil merriment, at which point the redheads at the center of this nefarious gathering bend their knees to lean backward, arms still spread wider apart before themselves.
Their dark laughter deepens for this special occasion. Better mixes with the surrounding stentorian cackles.
The Japanese Xiaolin has to refrain from loosing a ragged sigh as she rolls her eyes at the deliriously happy creator and creations. If not for the fact that Jack and his metallic lackeys assisted in the essential decimation of the low-ranking Heylin, Kimiko may very well have belted a full on groan of disgust. Yet she has to admit, that had been a fantastic finish, sending old Vladimir sailing.
Kimiko audibly cracks her knuckles, feeling leftover soreness from destroying Katnappe's afternoon creep through her joints. She shakes the hand out and crosses her arms, leaning on one foot.
Remarkably, their obnoxious laughter dies down.
"Are you finished yet?" she asks, casually checking her nails.
Dropping their arms and standing straight, all goes quiet with the redheads, their sinister regards homing in on Ashley. Missing Wu, ruined prototypes, torn cables, shredded metal, dried cat-litter in the shape of paw prints on everything. Hair-raising recollections that even now have fists clenching at his sides, because they always ended the same, exact way: Jack cleaning her messes that she made in his lair each and every time she broke into it!
Glaring, he and Robo-Jack stalk past two Guards and numerous Jack-Bots. They make for the fallen Heylin Moron.
"Not just yet."
Now Kimiko does huff. "What's left of that isn't even worth your energy. But knock yourself out, Spicegirls."
That black splotch on Ashley's face looks better and better the closer Jack gets. It's the perfect substitute for those hideous whisker-marks, but the make-over's success is only partially owed to this: Her cheek's still sunk in as if Kimiko's fist never left, a healthy glob of red-stained saliva drooling down her hanging tongue; and from her bruised, crooked schnoz leaks blood.
For the first time, Ashley's a half-decent sight to behold. He always knew the road-kill look would do wonders for her. All she needs now is a highway enduring rush-hour, but heck if he's finding that here in the countryside.
Bummer.
He'll just have to make do.
"Uh-huh," Jack mutters, reaching Ashley. Chuckling, he gives a noncommittal wave at Kimiko before bringing his watch up to murmur into it. "Jack-Bots: Cover the perimeter." As they disperse, Robo-Jack's ominous grin widens, and Jack reaches toward his remaining automatons.
"Guard-Bots." He motions them over.
'Ugh, what could this nerd possibly want with what's left of Katnappe?'
Frowning gruffly, Kimiko almost turns away out of spite, but can't help watching for what Spicer is planning. Thus far, his handling of… their enemies… has been a spectacle to behold. If not vaguely alarming. So she only moves to a building several meters away, keeping her eyes on the Guard-Bots that approach her thrashed opponent.
Heavy steps come to a close behind the duo. Turning thoughtful, Jack crosses an arm and rubs at his chin.
"I'm thinkin' javelin throw. How 'bout you guys?" His curious consideration ends on an evil half-smirk at his hulking creations. Each gives its best impression of a thumbs up. Robo-Jack sends him two and a winning sharp grin. "Heh, javelin throw it is!"
Kimiko can't help but snicker at the very thought as she leans on the building wall to rest and watch this former pain-in-the-ass get sent into orbit. 'This is far too rich a moment to not have on video.' Drawing her phone from a pocket within her battered sparring robes, she directs a nasty, wry smirk at Katnappe.
What Spicer has planned for Ashley is too good for her, but she'll still take, enjoy, and record what she can. 'Considering.'
Considering what this one did with Omi and even Rai's trust. Sob stories, flirting that Omi didn't ever catch, and… eugh… Raimundo responded… to… and Clay let get him into doing extra. The urge to shake her head for them is resisted.
It's over and done, and for all she cares, Spicer can throw her straight back to Chase Young.
A Guard-Bot reaches down for her fallen opponent, excitement bubbling within Kimiko as it grips around the blonde's mid-section. Above itself, Katnappe's lifted. Its stance widens. The Guard's blaster rises horizontal to front center-mass, and then its hand rears back. Kimiko taps the camera icon on her smart-phone's display. She poises a trembling thumb over the red record button, ready to lift the device in a heart-beat.
"Wait!"
Robo-Jack grabs Jack's shoulder. Lifting a hand to one corner of its mouth, RJ leans toward its irked creator to whisper, "Not together."
Jack swivels his attention to the one Guard-bot, then ahead. Envisioning Vlad's recent soar through the sky, he follows the trajectory and smiles at the likelihood of Vlad having landed in a distant patch of trees. Hopefully slamming through thick, solid bark. His built velocity was certainly enough to get the job done, and a simple land-fall would be such a waste of kinetic energy, so why not? Splinter the plant apart. Send wooden particles tearing through the air like shrapnel from a claymore detonation.
Snickering at the mental images, Jack's unkind eyes wander the malnourished landscape for a place to put the mangy moron that's next in line. There's not a road for miles, which (again) is extremely unfortunate, but he'll find somewhere in this mountainous region to put her. Somewhere out of sight, out of mind, and hopefully out of his way...
Yet there's one fat detail he's having trouble recalling. His brow scrunches, the boy's eyes wandering here and there. "Which way did fatso go again…?"
"Does it matter?"
"Realistically– yeah, it might."
"Since wh–"
"So," Kimiko cuts in, "you still planning on chucking tuna-breath into the middle of next week or what?" Her disposition now reeks of impatience.
Heaving a sigh, Jack rolls his eyes to Kimiko, giving her a dour side-glance. "Don't you have other things to do than bother me?" His gruff complaint is followed by Robo-Jack shooing the pest away.
Kimiko nearly lets loose another snort, but she deems it unworthy of her effort. 'Stupid, petulant Spicer.' Another decent triumph ruined by his inability to just wrap it up already.
Smiling, the redheads run their sights up distant, enormous rock formations.
Reaching into his trench coat, Jack produces binoculars and lifts them to his face as RJ's optics extend. There's three dark, jagged silhouettes to choose from, and Jack hums as he sizes up each volcano.
By now Kimiko's attention has returned to her phone; she's playing a mobile port of one of her favorite games to keep from snarling at Jack in sheer disdain. Though her bottomless blue orbs still flick back and forth just in case Katnappe does happen to get launched within the same century.
Each volcano seems equally enormous as the other, so Jack moves on to comparing soot output. From left to right, smoke puffs, blasts, and twists out into the sky, leaving only the last two as real options. Though as he takes in the twister, Jack is beset by a probable double-edged sword: It's violent enough to change Ashley's trajectory… which is awesome, really… but wouldn't be if it sent her right back.
As it happens, he's got no over-sized bat on-hand, and finding a large enough, reliable support beam in this dump is unlikely.
Pursing his lips, Jack grunts in dissatisfaction. The blaster is up next. And it's powerful. Its constant feed shoves at the surrounding clouds, making Jack smile with glee, as a boost in altitude works for him. Either that or she'll just zoom straight through. Not like he'd be able to tell from this angle...
'Eh, it's the thought that counts.'
Lowering the binoculars, Jack smiles up at his Guard-Bot. He points off to the volcanic region. "See those volcanoes over there?"
The Guard's attention follows.
"Try to get her right over that middle one." He makes an angled soaring motion with his free hand.
"Aye aye, sir."
The Xiaolin warrior continues her game, ready to pull up the camera-function in a heartbeat.
Smiling impishly, Jack leans forward and waggles his fingers at Ashley whilst his Guard-Bot faces the ideal location.
When it's again settled, Jack bids her good riddance with wicked cheer. "Later, Heylin Moron."
The Guard-Bot launches forth, pulverizing the ground with long, exaggerated steps before it stomps to an abrupt halt. Grinning with glee – and internally huffing in relief – the Japanese monk whips her phone upright well in time to capture Katnappe being hurled for the horizon, her former adversary spearing through the air like a patent-leather bound torpedo with whiskers.
The redheads' glaring smirks follow Ashley. She's a nasty, stray smear that almost camouflages with the sky. A blur heading in the best far-away location possible. Though in hindsight, it probably should have been more directly aimed for, but this is still pleasant on the eyes, and theirs progressively widen with excitement.
"Oohhhh, she's going!" Jack shouts. His binocs regain usage.
She really is. Traveling far, far, far away.
Robo-Jack's optics lengthen.
"Almost!" they chorus. Both raise a trembling fist.
Kimiko's blank expression watches as they stand on their toes, their idiotic smiles going ridiculously wide. And then…
Throwing an arm around one another, binoculars and a metal fist shoot for the sky right when Ashley disappears into blasting volcanic ash. "PERFECT!" As they proceed to roll their fists around in the air, laughing all the while, the thrower and another Guard run at each other, performing a body-slam that clangs in conjunction with the other two's clap of hands.
Kimiko quirks a dull brow at the sheer glee radiating off them. 'I'm not even that happy...' Frowning, the girl rolls her shoulder and eyes. 'Whatever. He's probably just remembering what winning feels like again.' So long as he's done, she doesn't care. He's taken long enough with these admittedly satisfying–
The side-by-side twins shoot matching malicious smiles at Cy–
She sighs exasperatedly, looking to the sky for help that isn't on the way, because he's still not done. "I'll be back at the forest," Kimiko grumbles, turning and making her way toward a certain temple building.
Her ragged state is looooooooong overdo for a change.
Giving another dismissive wave, however lazy, is beyond Jack right now, him snickering alongside RJ as they stalk toward the finale event. This fat, red, ugly, one-eyed, obsolete, waste-of-time Heylin Moron that has to go. Losers with the losers, Morons wherever is furthest, but not together.
Hills litter every inch of this landscape. However, the best series of them lie South of the temple. It's the most beautiful solid sea the area has to offer for miles. Surfer Boy can have his loser domain on water, as these waves are so solidly perfect that not even Robo-Jack can see an end to them from their hover over the temple wall; and they snicker as the Guard-Bots' approach choruses louder and louder until they pound to a stop.
Landing on the wall, the duo turn around. Their eyes rake back and forth as the Guards swing Cyclops between themselves. Higher and higher they get the beast before finally flinging him into the air.
The monstrosity tumbles overhead, briefly shadowing the redheads' watchful entertainment.
Cyclops plummets. Crashing to the ground, he shakes all land in sight as he rolls into a sloppy, spinning red blur of partial use. An unnatural disaster that spins up and down the landscape.
Four sets of electrical currents buzz aloud behind the duo. Four energy masses BOOM and rocket for the sky, casting a brief, intense light on the redheads. They smirk, chuckling as Cyclops disappears over the horizon.
For which another set of projectiles fire.
Huffing, Jack turns and dusts off his hands. "And that's that." The Morons are gone.
The air is fresh.
Activating their heli-packs, they fly back to where the battle took place, Jack landing on the flat apex of a building's otherwise slanted rooftop. He walks along it until reaching the end.
Crossing his arms, Jack looks around the dump he's in. This Xiaolin dump that he used to raid on the regular. Ahh, yes: The countless times he's flown, dug, ran, or even just simply walked right out of the place with a bag of Wu to employ in the name of, "World Domination!"
The ghost with his voice puts him in a somber mood, his lips regressing to a dull, straight line.
This is just for now, he reminds himself. Just until the world's back up for grabs
Then, work will resume.
'We'll get there.'
Optics matching Jack's biological eyes linger on the boy genius's dark focus ahead of himself before Robo-Jack gives its frown to the artifacts still lying on the ground. "So much for her getting the Wu." RJ hovers to Jack's right.
Sighing, Jack drops his eyes to the seemingly forgotten magical artifacts.
"What else is new." He shrugs a shoulder.
They've always been forgetful, these Xiaolin Losers. Why else would diversionary tactics have worked without fail, time and time again. Not once did they ever think to say, "Hey, you go after the diabolical genius, and we'll take care of things here."
Not. Even. Once. They don't learn.
Robo-Jack lands and sits down on the roof. Jack takes a seat, too, yet still asks, "Wanna head back now?" Putting an elbow atop one of his knees, he palms a cheek and turns a dull smirk on RJ.
"What, and leave the loser here? Alone? Are you trying to make this take forever?"
"Oh please," Jack waves off, "she's a big girl." That fireball was anything but small. It singed an entire tree to the ground. Nigh-instantaneously. He saw the dust blow in person. Right after watching the mass of pure heat barely miss himself. "Besides, you heard her: She'll meet us back at the forest."
"Yeah I'm sure she'll point the jungle cats in the right direction." Robo-Jack lays down with a dull thud. "In case you somehow forgot, Chase is a bigger evil. Not to mention the whole dragon thing." Making claws of its fingers, Robo-Jack raises its hands and sways them around.
"I wonder if napalm would work on that form..." Jack ponders aloud.
"Did it work on Dojo?"
Jack cringes at the memory of his encounter with Dojo's two-headed form. "Not really..."
"Then why would it work on Loser Young?" Sudden disgust crinkles the bot's nose. "He's practically a magical dragon himself. Just part man, uglier, and cannibalistic." It'd mention the missing castle, but hell if he will ever allude to that loser being a princess. Every inch of her has so far wailed peasant.
Jack, though, ponders on the last verbalized detail and smiles at RJ's repulsed smirk. "Dojo's cooked."
This gets a bark of laughter from Robo-Jack, the boy genius simply chuckling.
"You know what's coming, though, right?"
"H'yeah– us rescuing losers."
"Other than that," Jack grounds out. Why did his bot have to say it like that!?
An exasperated sigh leaves Robo-Jack. The bot closes its eyes and raises a hand, one finger already up. "There's three to go." Another finger raises. "Seeing Losers, working with Losers, picking up after Losers. Wuya's back, so we'll see her true ugly face – and her rock gol–
"What rock golems!?" Jack's tense hand swiftly thrusts its pointer at RJ when the bot tries to speak. "We've been here nearly half a day and not once have we seen a single stupid golem!"
Robo-Jack's eyes narrow at Jack's finger.
His implication is incorect. The bot frowns for this, but ultimately shrugs and frowns ahead, up at the flowing black-red clouds.
"Now would you please shut up about those things."
Robo-Jack's frown deepens. Sharpening optics glow brighter. "That doesn't mean the hag's not back."
Groaning, Jack facepalms, dragging the hand down his face.
Any topic would be better than this one. Especially since Dojo's reaction toward those two Wu missing indicates the Losers previously had them. Meaning chances are good Wuya's tangible again. "Fine, she's probably back – not that she ever left – but until I see an army of those things hurling meteorites at us, I don't care about that obsolete hag." Crossing his arms, Jack slouches. "She can shove it."
Nodding, Robo-Jack continues watching the clouds, nonplussed, but satisfied, its ear twitching at the sound of a faint howl. The noise grows and eventually blows through the temple grounds, shoving their hair forward and Jack's goggles down his forehead. As he corrects them, architectural debris drizzles to the ground. The robotic redhead hums to itself, reading a five degree drop in temperature.
Jack suddenly perks up, blinking. "Wait a minute…" he mutters, "wasn't I saying something?"
"As I was getting to," Robo-Jack declares, re-extending eight fingers–
Whipping his attention to RJ, Jack shouts, "Chase!"
Robo-Jack's lips purse. Another finger lifts.
"He's never gonna let us get away with this!" Jack whisper-shouts. "We just threatened his world domination. Resc– Stole one of the losers from right under his scaly, Loser-Moron nose! Me! He hates me! He wasn't even willing to hear my lie, the super-evil lizard prick."
Not even hearing out your fellow big bad from back in the evil ole days? The nerve of the guy! The audacity! Didn't he, Jack Spicer – Evil Boy Genius (Extraordinaire) – at least deserve that much? To speak? Even the other Heylin Morons allow him that much before physical aggression.
Nonetheless, he gets it. A no is a no. It's not at all an unfamiliar word or concept. Won't happen again.
Never.
Hopefully-Never.
"And he's gotten eviler," Robo-Jack grudgingly concedes. "Did you see that glare? Those pupils alone could have cut me in half, but then he went and crinkled that switch-blade nose of his into a serrated one." Every wrinkle on it was deadly, which brings the bot to its greatest point: "I'd be dead right now if I weren't a machine! Cat food!"
Glowering at the shingles between his boots, Jack groans aloud. "He even villainized Chrome Dome's dots. I'm never gonna be able to see those stupid things the same, now. And we haven't even touched on the floating debris yet." His arms shoot out before himself for helpless emphasis. "The guy's got a whole aura of evil. How do you fight that?"
It's no wonder Chase has the world in the bag. Who would dare stand up to a look like that?
Canada? They'd be raising the sea level in no time. The United States of America? The stars would shoot off that flag quicker than the immigrants could start fleeing back to their home countries. The British? He'd literally spit fire all over them. Russia? More like Mother Gulag. China would just be the higher populated twin. And in place of world-wide propaganda and endless slews of advertising would be Chase's glare of glares, subjugating the people to work past their severe back pains.
'He's probably stronger than Wuya,' Jack seethes. 'Why else would he resurrect that hag. And since when does the Jieba come off? Wouldn't we have smacked it from Omi's head before?'
"Don't forget the Wu," Robo-Jack reminds.
"Neither of which we have–"
"–while Loser Young does."
"And even then, the other hasn't activated." Jack turns to RJ, reliving the disbelief. "How am I suppose to work with that?" The stress just keeps multiplying. "At this rate, we'll be fighting jungle cats forever."
Robo-Jack's eyes widen, artificial pupils pinpoints. Jack, however, glares in the direction Kimiko went. "Especially if these Losers can't even walk straight." Never mind that they're supposedly a team.
His gaze swivels back to RJ. "Honestly. Chrome Dome, now?" As Robo-Jack shakes its head, Jack throws a hand out to the side. "The kid's so good he 'sees' it in me!"
De-lu-sion-al.
Huge-headed with an ego to match, Omi is by far the most devout loser in training. The only goody-good monk he's seen wear nothing but the bath robes. There may have been one with a finer make, but other than that, they've all looked exactly the same. Heck, it wouldn't surprise him if the little fart even sleeps in them so he's at-the-ready to kick your butt no matter the hour. It certainly seemed like it. 11:30 PM? First one on the scene. 2:13 AM? The only one to arrive for nearly five minutes. Sure, Omi has his late moments too, but they're few and far between.
The cheese-ball almost never failed to be training whilst Jack broke into the place to steal their Wu in broad daylight. Or at the break of dawn. Or the dead of night.
Training or guard duty. Guard or training. Jack's even seen Omi doing both at once. Left and seen it still going on as a matter of fact, but, hey, he's not complaining if the most devoted little loser has been so helplessly lost to evil.
"If that's what we're working with–"
"–we're fighting jungle cats forever."
It's final.
This is their fate.
Jungle cats. Chase Young. Morons. Wuya. Fighting. In darkness.
Forever.
RJ squints at the sky. "So what now?"
Again poising an elbow atop his knee, Jack palms his cheek. "Wait for the loser," he bites out, "and hope that yo-yo reveals at some point." Likely as that is. "Our main concern right now is that we just took out the cannon fodder." At this, RJ groans, glowering at a passing crow.
Jack's hand slides over his forehead, him loosing a sigh of discontent.
The low opinion his once-fellow-evil-doers held for him was bound to remain prevalent, and so far, it's been an invaluable vantage point. First to get past Chase's defenses and then to pulverize Team Heylin Moron; however, that's twice now Chase has underestimated him and lost in one extremely evil day, meaning their won't be a third, which really sucks, since all they've gotten so far is one monk.
Speaking of which, capture is probably off the table for him now… because of Robo-Jack's so successful mission. The sarcasm is dubious.
And Ashley? Chase's apprentice? What!? How? How far does the cat thing get a person? How many points?
Ashley was lying. Chase was lying. If she's his apprentice then what the heck is Omi? Runner-up?
No freakin' way. Omi's been living his entire life as a loser monk. A Xiaolin Loser raised by Master Fungus, according to Wuya. Where did she learn that? Surfer Boy's head. Flew right in one ear and out the other. Then after sharing this asked Jack if he'd like to have the pleasure.
What kind of sick question was that anyway? Her flying in ears already grossed him out as it was, considering Q-tips definitely can't fix that kind of damage. They'd burn like fuse upon entry. The only thing Surfer Boy will see of an ENT is their body lunging through an office window – regardless of floor. As for the mental issues, well, good luck. Better get that will started, Windy Loser, 'cuz senile at twenty is a real possibility.
So what's to come after Team Heylin Moron? Other than maybe a certain ancient, ugly, nosy, inferior-red-haired hag?
Jungle Cats. Warriors enslaved over the course of fifteen hundred years. Frightening, immortal beings that will try to eat them all alive. Or transform first, crush them, return to cat-form, and then eat them at varying degrees of aliveness.
He's never seen the entire collection, but Wuya's existence is a long time to be going around the world, enslaving the best warriors it has to offer.
And yet again, there's a loser in the evil mix. Working with an ancient Moron.
Omi! this time.
It's outrageous. Incredible. It's roughly the equivalent of double world conquest. Chase was surely in some quiet form of triumph when he'd done it.
'Him and his stupid prophecy.'
Wuya, that lying hag.
He'd never really cared whether or not she had been when he asked his question. Figured it's all a load anyways, and if not, it wouldn't happen in his life-time. Besides, he had a feeling she was full of it anyways, because when he asked that hag if Chase ever ruled before, she answered no, and afterword, her "eyes" lit up as if that hadn't been the right answer. Which he bets was, actually. He'd just raised a brow at her sudden intense horror-mask and walked away.
Then she'd shouted after him.
"He's not and he never will, you incompetent, insolent child! Neverrr!" Her angry holler boomed throughout his basement, making him cringe.
Like he'd really help this rancid, primordial ghost-mask of a moron with tendrils suggesting she dive for the ocean, get a room with an octopus, and finally leave him the evil hell alone.
"Inside voices, you hag – or you can find a different pair of tangible evil-genius hands!"
Wuya was full of it. He shouldn't have ignored it, but her nagging noise, at such volume… He hadn't payed mind, dismissing it as another stupid prophecy. But he's remembered the detail because of who is attached to it.
If it's before Chase's bringer to the dark side makes his return, then how much longer after? How much longer after Chase's rule does Hannibal make his return?
The warlord has to be preparing somehow. Enslavement? That seems to be the guy's preference, and it would certainly help Chase's chances, but if the guy hadn't done it in 1500 years, what the heck was he waiting for? It's not like Chase even has the excuse of having been trapped in a puzzle box: Dashi left his lizard butt alone and he's just sat on his collection for who knows how long.
What a time-waster.
Nonetheless, the world is, at long last, his, so a few genuine evil chuckles had to have left Chase as it all came to pass. His betrayal of Hannibal is finally paying off. Jack just wonders how the warlord did it: Got Omi. Of all monks to come and go.
And now that Jack thinks about it, it's fairly possible Chase is relishing this fact even now, as Jack hasn't made much more than a dent thus far.
Still...
'We'll manage...'
Yeah. It's possible. Entirely plausible in senses that count – such as height: Those jungle beasts are nothing compared to Wuya's rock golems. Especially that gargantuan one. Nothing Chase has can possibly compare to that.
'I've got the strongest monk with me right now anyways.'
Why, just one more monk, and things should smooth over to three; and then he doesn't know how they'll get Oppi back, but when it happens, there's gonna be sunlight, smiles, loser reunion, the world will regain balance, yadda-yadda, and then he can fly straight outta this continent for his underground home.
It's not Wuya… but how many jungle cats at a time. For how long. What else does Chase have at his disposal? What extra lizard powers? Now that he's got the glowing dots...
...What does that even mean? Perhaps Loser-Moron proportions are more… balanced?
More importantly, how does Chase deal with these situations? This resistance. Wuya wasted little time: To the dungeon, escape, "CRUSH THEM!"
Intensely horrific, but efficient.
Is there a jail option first or is it straight into the ground, no questions allowed? Evil Partnership? Part-time? Internship? Indentured servitude? High-ranking minion? Slavery? Life in general? Jack's hardly met the guy in comparison to Wuya, and yet the abominable man acts as if he's known him his entire hybrid Master Moron life.
As if Jack's the immortal with a secret beast form to hide. He's not the one eating dragons, and yet there's the distinct feeling– knowledge that Chase has some personal moron grudge against him. Oh sure, he'll send troves of jungle cat warriors at them, because that's what an evil ruler does with their forces of dominion, but at what point do they cross into Chase finishing it himself?
Undoubtedly, Chase wants Dojo for a pot of celebratory Lao Mang Lone Soup. Probably some variant that requires Dojo be frozen beforehand. Maybe even a recipe by Hannibal Roy Bean himself.
Dojo could be leverage. Threaten to vaporize the dragon. Ruin the meat. Good luck finding another mythical creature, lizard man. Best get to bartering or else!
But how long will it take Chase Young to make that soup out of Dojo? Is Chase willing to kill a monk? Willing to go through their reincarnations like that? What are the time frames? If myth holds true, these monks are an elusive breed. Loser proportions need to be just right. Or so ancient scrolls say.
He's only stolen so much data from the temple archives. Not that it matters: Books and, more importantly, libraries, are entitled to the public. No matter how metallic, tiny, and eight-legged the user might be. Besides, Omi always wanted to help him, so Jack let his Spider-Bot read all it could from countless angles within Guan's extensive scroll room, though he hadn't dared to use radio signal despite the major loser's lack of dealing with his genius, which really limited him on data for the one-time infiltration; but you don't mess around with ancient magic.
Or a certain monk's signal… At least not without constantly watching his own.
But Guan? For a one-time deal?
Loser Guan, like Moron Wuya, and Hybrid Chase right now, can shove it. Forever.
The bot sifted through Xiaolin and especially Heylin related history. Zooming in on every page flipped by every single person that walked in. Going through what they left out, though, now that was easy pickings. Let the pages flip before Master Loser Guan or his loser lackeys return.
Key words for subject registry: Hannibal, Chase, Roy, Young, Bean, Dashi, witch, dragon, Wu, fire, water, wind, and Earth. Fairly short in his opinion.
But back to brass tacks: Chase's line – while certainly consisting of objectives that'll each take forever to finish – will be crossed.
So the prime consideration lies on Dojo.
What's he worth? Surely, such a rare, invaluable species to Loser Young's existence merits bartering rights.
Robo-Jack snorts when he asks it of its opinion, the bot rolling its optics with a mild shake of its head. "If we get caught, we're dead." RJ jabs a finger at Jack, squinting at him. "One loser pet isn't changing that – no matter what you think."
"No jail?" Jack complains.
"I got that."
"And? I didn't." Jack juts a finger at himself.
Giving the supposed actual a deadpan stare, Robo-Jack slowly repeats itself: "If he captures us, we're dead."
"That's not fair– he never caught me!"
"Well maybe if we showed up two hours earlier, we could have done more!"
"I thought they had it!"
Robo-Jack stares at its creator.
Jack pouts and RJ quirks a brow. The teen groans with a sudden slouch to his person. "Okay, yeah, I screwed up – ya happy I said it? I'll be more prompt, alright? Now stop complaining. When hasn't it been an uphill battle?" He grins back down at the tiles. "And when have the odds stopped us before?"
Robo-Jack groans its gloomy detestation. "When haven't the odds stopped us before?" Its back hits the roof again, a metal fist suddenly striking for the sky. "On to another battle we're certain to lose!"
"After you, Jack."
"Why, Jack, I in-sist."
Palming one of its rising cheeks, RJ sends him a delicate wave of faux appreciation. "Oh, I simply can't fathom it, Jack."
Huffing a chuckle, Jack gets up. "Jack, let's go. We'll meet her at the forest."
"Sure, Jack, why not," Robo-Jack agrees offhandedly, standing as well.
Activating their heli-packs, they're blown backward by a sudden strong gust. Jack's taken by the wind more so than RJ, but he re-adjusts mid-air, lifting a few meters with RJ flying beside him.
"Temperature rose a bit..." RJ notes, watchful of rustling foliage.
Jack squints as the wind hits his face. Jerking his head down gets his goggles over his eyes.
The duo look around.
Jack growls in agitation, rubbing his forearms. "Why do I get the feeling something bad is gonna happen…"
RJ raises a brow. "What d'you mean?"
"I'unno... It's never gotten this far before."
Robo-Jack's optics narrow. "So?"
"I don't know!" More looking around. "I don't know how Chase's apocalypse works, but I'd like to at least live long enough to burn that witch into the ground." Right now would be prime time. Especially if there's no golems.
Volcanoes roar their quaking agreement over the lands. Whipping their frantic expressions toward the horrible noise, the duo's eyes widen at clouds of rising ash getting blasted through the dark sky, after which a deafening boom from each volcano generates and sends a visible force of wind over the lands. Then, lava explodes for the night sky, shattering them free of their collective shock to dive behind a building and shield their ears.
Mighty gusts slam into the temple and shove a couple buildings right to the ground, the Wu Vault being one. They would smile if not for the need to dodge shingles and other debris flying for them. Rather, Jack would glare his envy at RJ's excited grin if he had the chance.
He gets to, though, when things settle down, but when they take to the air again, both their expressions melt to muted fear.
"That's a lot of lava..."
"W-Wow..." Jack agrees. The volcanoes are blasting molten rock into the air, but worse (and odd) are the surges' curves toward the temple that's sending the stuff straight down-land for them. Even worse, some other volcanoes are livening up, too...
Lifting a shaky wrist, Jack mutters into his watch, "Raid the scroll room… right now."
"There's gotta be something on that damn yo-yo!" modifies Robo-Jack, watching with Jack as lava consumes the land in its pursuit of them, looking more like a lake than a river…
"We don't need that much, you moron!" they shout toward the approaching mega disaster. The direction of Chase's apparently not-distant-enough evil lands.
Jack's worried eyes go to Robo-jack, him whispering urgently, "If there's not enough time, carry all we can."
RJ squints, jerking his head back. "You don't think we can do it in time?"
"Are you kidding? Some of those scrolls are long as hell!"
"So just grab what we can't scan at the end..."
"Well… actually, yeah, do that."
Robo-Jack leans toward Jack with a teasing smirk, hands clasping behind himself. "Someone forgot their ABCs."
"Right," Jack deadpans, "anymore tips, Mister Cat Food?"
RJ's mouth opens, but his optics suddenly widen and glow. "Jack-Bots need our help."
"With what?" Squinting at his blinking watch, Jack raises it and presses a button to open the audio channel.
"What do you think you're doing?"
Tensing at the force behind Kimiko's question, Jack glowers ahead, but let's it slide. "Sav–"
"Stealing. I see your robots. And let me tell you, Spicer, I'd rather–"
"Oh, come on!" Jack groans over her. "Your ancient garbage could be–"
"Ours or lost. Never yours!"
He's actually stunned. For a fair moment, his mouth remains paused on its last syllable. Yeah, his bots are awaiting his decision amid this disaster that will char them all to smithereens, but this… this…
Loser is not the pronoun he's looking for.
It's as if she's a zombie. Zapped by the Zing Zom-Bone.
"Do you even have brain cells?! One of the few ways you loser–"
"Leave it or the partnership is off!" There's a minute pause. "Let it burn or your robots join it."
He withholds a growl. "Meet me outside." He kills the feed. "Let's go."
Cruising off, they're followed by Guards.
"She won't fight us," sneers RJ. "All she's got is Dojo, Sleeping Loser, and more Wu than they can even carry."
"More importantly, she can't fight us. We have all that loser trash."
"And we could use the information," RJ complains.
It's a perfectly mutual opportunity. What, does she think they won't share? This time's different! It's happening now: Post-Partnership.
"Where else are we gonna get information? Chase's place? Peh, fat chance."
Yeah, no thank you. He can be a bit reckless, maybe, but nothing of that sort. Not in lizard domain, and especially not the temple right now.
"Stupid loser," mutters Jack. He shakes his head, stopping to look at the raging volcanoes. Robo-Jack passes him by a mid-air step.
The hovering bot raises a brow at Jack's pause.
"Whatever. Let's let her have her way. We can't stay here anyways."
"Wai– wha-why?"
The boy genius glares back at his double. "Did you not see that fireball? I'm not turning into that tree. My water composition's just fine, thank you." Not to mention the in-house fighting is getting a bit old – and making his throat sore.
"Fine," Robo-Jack shrugs, throwing a number of crucial worries to the wayside, "Let her have her way. Lose like Losers. Why not It's their trash anyways."
"Stupid losers," Jack reiterates. Shaking his head gently, he raises his watch, narrowing his eyes at it. "J-3, re-open the line." The little blue light persists once more.
"Fine, have it your way, but don't expect me to go to that Yin-Yang World for you losers when we can't find that other yo-yo."
"We already went through it, Spicer," Kimiko crisply informs," but thanks for the concer–"
"Seeya at the forest." The feed's cut.
He doesn't need a dry, mocking thank you right now. Especially when it follows an outright lie. No way did they turn that place over in less than two hours. It's big. He knows. Chameleon-Bot saw.
So he'll just have that much less to do in the meantime. Whatever. She gets the Wu.
See if he cares when the whole area goes under running lava. He certainly doesn't when they're all watching such from deep in the forest upon separate tall trees, the losers morose at the visually-stunning molten consumption of their temple.
Robo-Jack cackles, head rearing back. Jack is less amused: Information has gone to waste. Who knows how much of it wasn't looked through, that they could have maybe used.
That he could have after all this is done and over with.
'Oh well...'
The buildings are almost entirely consumed, burning and melting into deep lava as Kimiko and Dojo glower at RJ.
The volcanoes die down to simply oozing lava. 'So what now…?' Jack's dull reds swivel in their sockets to peer at Kimiko. 'Where to…?' Surely she looked through those glasses. If she didn't and still needs to, he'll be impressed.
He'll just ask. After she simmers down. Dojo would be an option if not for him always being near Kimiko and that the dragon would more than likely share Jack's query with her. Then what? More yelling? Nooo, thank you.
When they're done watching. That's when he'll pose his singular, simple question.