AN: Welcome to a new world of bad.
Hello, my fellow rock 'n rollers! Welcome back to another Bad Guys story! I want to say a big thank you to the attention given to 'No Decision Goes Unpunished'. And I'm really excited to reveal the first chapter of my new biggest story 'Bigger, Better, Badder'.
As mentioned before, I fell in love with 'The Bad Guys' from the film to the books. It was at the time when I stepped into a new era of storywriting. The movies is one hell of a time and I enjoyed the potential worldbuilding, the characters and the tropes it play around regarding these criminal characters.
Aside from the holiday special and the original Australian book series still ongoing, we wait for a sequel. But I decided to make a potential sequel story, set in my own AU.
How about a mystery-drama, espionage, Aussie-spirited thriller? Though…I have to confess, I don't know what genre would fit this story. It is what it is. While there's action and mystery, there's more chemistry on the characters and worldbuilding. Think of it like Casablanca.
However, this is still a comedic story with heart, dark undertones and a colorful backdrop, inspired by Harley Quinn: Birds of Prey, Peacemaker, Arcane, Amphibia and The Iron Heart (Filipino series).
For eagle-eye witnesses, you would notice the many artworks I created for this story on Twitter (I refuse calling it 'X') and DeviantArt (and TikTok, apparently…). Quite a lot! If interested, check them out to see the images of the characters you can expect.
This AU ties with 'No Decision Goes Unpunished' and carries on elements from the book series. While otherwise taking inspiration from the second arc, there's a lot of inspirations from Book 5 onwards. Additionally, there's even references to previous works of Aaron Blabey, the man behind The Bad Guys, and many of them are my favorite childhood stories! So keep an eye out for these references!
I would like to give special thanks to I.M. Rally for her contribution to the story. Her OCs, Mr. Hornet and Mira, will appear with major roles. She's a fantastic author and played a huge role in bringing this story to light.
One last thing to explain: much like The Sensational SpiderDom321 and MarcellusMiro66, I like to incorporate background music into certain scenes for great effects. How it works is that you'll see the title of the song and right until the music stops, there'll be timestamps that would tell which parts of the song match to a specific part in the scene. It might not appear in every chapter, but it would help with understanding what would be playing in the background or act like diegetic music.
So sit back and enjoy the show!
"…the tongue is a small part of the body, but it makes great boasts. Consider what a great forest is set on fire by a small spark. The tongue also is a fire, a world of evil among the parts of the body. It corrupts the whole body, sets the whole course of one's life on fire, and is itself set on fire by hell." - James 3:5-6
Chapter 1 - The Wrong Intro for Every Story
Pssst! Hey, you!
Yeah, you, mate. Get over here,
I said, get over here!
OK, that's a bit too close. Stop, just a little further back.
And-!
…what? We're…you're not kidding when you say we must introduce the 'real' bad guys of the story here? We're the IP! The auto to the motto. They're probably unfamiliar with them.
…OK, fine. Roll the clip!
It is funny that there can only be pitch darkness whenever there is no light.
I heard it. I know it.
It is expected, as everyone else would know.
An entirely black world would be mostly for comfort whenever not in the line of any other thing. Not too different from the shadows you try hiding in. Whether it's hiding the head underneath the blanket or secluded in a cold room with the door locked.
But yet, it holds something so foretelling. Cause it's the same blanket everyone uses from the powerful. Whether it would be a threat or not, it would be something one would want to draw themselves away from.
On the bright side, many see it as a warm blanket. To hide away whenever feeling sad, angry or even ashamed. It's a place where people can lash out or feel the need to say something for once.
On the dark side, many see it as a danger. No one knows what may be lurking in the darkness as well. Wanting to strike at not only just you but also what you believe in the dark. Normally seen as a really terrifying thing.
And in the middle ground, well-
There's not much thought on it, is there?
Yet, here in this void of pitch black, you'll just have a small eyeball floating around in space.
A small, white, orphaned eyeball with a gray pupil. Who knows why it's gray? Perhaps it doesn't mean anything. Perhaps it's more close to having blue eyes. Maybe it is just a newborn baby.
Floating through space while looking around innocently.
That eye could come from a child. It could come from a person of another ethnicity. It could come from someone, not of this world. It could even come from you! But with the eye looking around the dark backdrop, it represented the one human aspect when thinking carefully.
Human curiosity.
And it shouldn't be referred to as 'it' at this rate, should it? Let's settle with 'they' and tell the difference once this story finishes.
The eye wondered if the darkness around them was safe. It wasn't that much, but at least the eyeball wasn't in danger. They could float through this space of nothingness for a while. However, they kept looking around, wanting to know more. Wanting to learn as well. They don't want to be doing nothing for the rest of their life.
A childlike nature filled the eye with such imagination and fantasy. Simple, yet enjoyable. Matching the free space around it. Its pupil moved around in happiness, euphoria. There was so much to hope for. So much to gain. And what could it do if it reached the exit to the darkness?
And then came the emotion and the slowly growing intelligence.
"It can be a childlike wonder when you think about everything."
A voice from somewhere. The eyeball blinked. Well, metaphorically, it was exposed literally. They wondered where that voice came from. But they did want to learn, right? They started to take in what they could see and hear from somewhere. To them, the darkness appeared beautiful and creepy at the same time. It wanted to look further in. It wanted to find a spot of its own.
"It's simple enough as having jobs, lifestyles, entertainment. All factors that play in shaping our lives. Technically, it shapes how we are all like, which could make us a perfect community."
But where would they even start from here? They never had anything at this point. The eyeball tried to think, but this…didn't feel like it was the start of their life. They couldn't even remember what their own life was like before. The memories somehow lingered around it, but they didn't feel like they were there anymore. What was exactly their perfect life before?
"It's a success! He is coming to now!"
"Hold on. Would the weapon work on him? On him? On him? On him? On him?"
"Well…could have made us a perfect community. There will always be a time when someone tries to change that into their own shape. What reason could that be? An obsession with a belief? A desperate way to make things 'perfect' for them? An ordered heaven they believe should be that way? Take in all the cliches, but sometimes, the investigation might take as long as searching for academic papers in a school library."
If the eyeball stayed here, would they be truly alone? Was this place even real? Was this place a trap for it so that they couldn't go anyway? They felt restrained by something, but they couldn't even identify it.
Wait, no, not restrained by something. Restrained FROM something.
Achieving doing anything in this space. Just floating aimlessly without purpose. Somehow, a desire to do something remained. Yet, the safety and the simplicity of this empty void seemed to be holding them back. And it was starting to make the eyeball desperate to voice a concern. Anything.
"Shush, that's for later. We're gonna have another run here."
"Try to keep up, sissy. Common sense-sense-sense-s-s-s-s-!"
"Peace is not always great to achieve. And even if you can take it, what are the sacrifices to get this peace? Will it truly bring everyone together like a family? Or your assumption; getting to feel like you belong?"
The eyeball was getting frustrated by this. Several questions came to them. Would they continue to spend their life doing nothing while everything goes by? Would they truly rot until it couldn't recognize itself? Where was everyone-no, ANYONE when they needed someone to be with the most? Someone to let them know that they weren't alone. That they didn't need to remain under this blanket.
"I think we're gonna iNcReAsE tHe VoLuMe Up A lItTiE! Let her rip!"
"Hopefully, this one doesn't die."
"As you just float through the air, wondering why you're here and what to do, there's this voice banging in your head. It's frustrating, making your heart feel like it might explode with the unwanted adrenaline. To fight for something you want. To validate the right for the class you understand. And when you go through so many ups and downs, you would start to think, 'When will all my problems go away'?"
The eyeball began to tremble. It turned into shaking. Full-on shaking. It would have been called violently if it wasn't for the fact of how pathetic they were for just a simple eyeball. But they shouldn't even be called 'simple'.
Blood-red veins spread across the eyeball, the glow in the blood becoming visible as they shook in anger. Vibrating in one spot without getting to move like they were just another glitch in the system. They started to look hideous, wanting to do something for their own good.
"No, no, no, no! C'mon! C'mon! Work, damn it! Work!"
"She's gonna overload! Shut it down right now!"
"No! No! This should be fine! Just look! We are on our way! To becoming invincible!"
"Doctor! What's happening?!"
"Just hold on! We're trying to-!"
"It's kind of funny, though. This is the reason why we live in a world where life doesn't appear fair. That's why I wonder if we can be immortal; we may have all the time in the world to learn to be better than those who stay on the ground."
If one looked closely, the gray pupil started to change color. From a muddy brownish gray to dark brown to dark crimson and then finally to blood red. The color of the thing that poured out from a wound. A desire to inflict harm yet it couldn't find the right body to do so without feeling overwhelmed.
If the eyeball wanted to do something, then they were going to. They weren't going to lay there and die. They wanted to prove everything wrong. They wanted to prove that the darkness wasn't gonna control them.
They will control the darkness.
"Don't listen to him! We're doing great!"
"This is going too far! I'm going to rip it!"
"Someone?! Someone help?! SOMEONE?! Please?!"
"Wait, no! You can't do that! There has to be something! ANYTHING! I can't go back to living normal. I'm NOT going back!"
The eyeball glitched, their small mind becoming distorted. They were seething, brooding and most of all, slowly having the intention to kill. They didn't know where it came from. Was it something they watched from others? Was it from their opponents? Who were their opponents anyway?
The eyeball didn't know, but the more they thought about it, it just raged them. Shaking to the core.
"HELP! HELP! PLEASE!"
"No, no, no, NO!"
What was left next was an inactive eyeball. Head empty, no thoughts. No exploding. No burning. It just went flat, perishing away in its state of mind. Something deconstructed them like they overtook their buttons and poured water on them that destroyed them instead of cooling them down.
Turning into little bricks of a fallen kingdom until there is a definite solution to reunite all.
If only that is possible for broken hearts and the loss of unseeing…
An Adeline would have taken this more in ease.
She woke up, gasping. She didn't realize how heavy her breathing was. As she rapidly looked around, the pink-haired girl could hope she was just dreaming. Trying to concentrate, she found herself in the familiar surroundings of a metallic helicopter.
The feeling of being in the air? Check. Feeling her head heavy despite being technologically advanced? Check. Hearing the choppers spinning with humming plane turbine?
Yeah, she was definitely dreaming.
A relieved sigh escaped her lips as she pulled her long braid to the side. She wondered what the dream was all about. All she saw was that floating eyeball in the darkness while hearing these voices in her head. She never had anything like that before. And it definitely wasn't due to the horror movies she watched. The last time that happened was when she heard that God died somehow and she became depressed for the rest of the dream.
But this dream was more mundane. A little creepy, but it didn't say much. But why did she feel its anger? The girl slowly lifted her hand to her stomach, remembering the frustration the eyeball descended into. And it was really quick. Her hand rubbed her bubbling stomach, a touch of self-comfort.
She wondered if it was her eye in that dream.
There was a loud commotion at the front. She hoped that it wasn't due to the helicopter under attack. They did so much to make sure it looked like a regular news helicopter to prevent authorities from noticing. But granted that she didn't feel any rumbles of nearby explosions, she could breathe a little.
She felt less tense when a man in a black and bright purple outfit appeared.
"Classic historical lesson, Drillaärgh! I'm sure this helmet won't offend the Vikings. They would say it's just low-key." The man blinked, somewhat amused when he noticed the pink-haired girl staring at him. "Oh, you're finally awake, sleepy centipede. I thought you would fall into a deep slumber by then."
The young man was the same age as hers though his sharp body build made him look 10 years older. His flashy outfit resembled something you see at a pop convention. His bodywear consisted of a black bodysuit with the left half bright purple. Fitting to his sharp motif, it was decorated in purple stripes, triangular symbols and spikes alongside his sleeves. A dark purple belt with a chainsaw circle buckle held up his black pants with purple stripes.
The pink-haired woman briefly looked down to inspect his boots in different shades of purple. Even though he could be blunt, he was always a neat freak. Reflected by how shiny and flamboyant he dressed himself as. The pair of dark purple fingerless gloves should do the trick to make him 'manly'. So did the gray cloak, connected by a purple collar as it contained many rips that created the imagery of hair draped around his shoulders and back.
A metal, silver helmet was in his hands. The deep purple visor would indicate his youth appeal, but the helmet was designed to have two wide horns shaped like eagle wings with eight spikes poking at the back like a hedgehog. But in contrast to the mask's sharpness, the man possessed a sharp yet soft face with tan skin and a playful smile. However, his long bleached silver hair remained loyal to his sharpness, combed to the back of his neck with the addition of deep sideburns.
The pink-haired girl rolled her eyes. "I made sure to drink enough coffee for the morning, Dickie. Should give me enough energy."
"And will it be enough to give you muscle in picking up your spikes?" guffawed 'Dickie' as he sat down next to her, wiggling his bottom gently on the bench cushion. His helmet remained in his hands, his fingers tapping it like it was an instrument.
"It's being awake I'm talking about." She clicked her tongue, matter-of-factly. "Not strength."
"So you're saying that you just try to find something to entertain your brain instead of your body?"
"No, that's impossible. The brain controls the body. If it is inactive, neither is the rest of the body."
"True, but can it buff up your arms when carrying heavy things?"
The pink-haired girl had a thought with a blank look. "Not really. Muscles are nearly detached from the neural signals of the mind. They are too far dense to take a command."
"What?" said Dickie, sounding a little taken aback.
"I mean, with all that flexing and weight-lifting, it's just activities giving the body a better upgrade. The brain can't help the muscles because it focuses on other things like how to drive a car or know how to get a wife. It's more focused on understanding the moment, not feeling the moment. Apparently, it seems to be tossed to the side recently for more eye candy to the vision."
Dickie had a thought of his own. "Wait, so you're saying that brains don't feel?"
"Wait, what?"
"Can brains feel emotions?"
"Well, they feel…pain."
"Can brains feel the loss of a brother?"
"Well, not usually. I mean, if the brother's a jerk, then the logic would mean everyone is liberated."
"What about this?" asked Dickie with a sly smirk. "Can brains feel the dread of being in a simulation created by gods?"
"That's not possible! There's not enough evidence. The mind would believe so if it is scientifically true!"
"Well, I bet that the brain cannot tell if the bones of dinosaurs came from real dinosaurs or feces molecules."
The pink-haired girl was growing confused. "W-Wait, what is this all about? The theory about dinosaurs is definitely true!"
"I have to wonder if the brain can feel the crushing pain of a meaty hand about to squeeze it."
The pink-haired girl groaned a little. "OK, this is getting absurd."
"No, no, no, it's getting better. Can the brain actually feel pain when it explodes?"
"Not really, it just dies because it now becomes detached from life!"
"Let me tell you this," said Dickie, jokingly elbowing the pink-haired girl in the arm. "I bet that the mind is so detached from life that it doesn't have all the energy in the world to be active. Muscles are always active since they are very passionate."
The pink-haired girl rolled her eyes. "Well, passionate about getting a footlong."
"And to get to feel the enjoyment of being capable!"
"OK, OK, you win."
Dickie laughed, patting his friend on the back. "No wonder why you needed coffee. Your brain is not high-"
"Yeah, yeah, I get it. The muscle always ends up dying faster instead of stopping to think." The pink-haired girl paused, wondering what they were actually talking about. "Wait, are you being sarcastic again?"
"Yeah, sorry about that," said Dickie, rubbing his head sheepishly. "I got carried away."
"OK, I really need to catch up with…your…sarcasm." She tilted her head like a pigeon. "I guess muscles can really pick up language instead of the brains that pick up information."
"More like the brains," said Dickie cooly. "Anyway, did you rest well during the whole flight?"
The pink-haired girl tried to remember back to her dream. Her surreal dream of the floating eyeball. How she actually felt in the position of the eyeball.
"I don't know why, but I had this strange dream of this eye floating through…nothing," she explained.
"So you've been staring at an eyeball?" said Dickie, raising an eyebrow.
"Literally. Though, for some reason, I can feel it. Some kind of guy was saying…something." The pink-haired girl shuddered, unable to comprehend the connection between the imploding eyeball and the phantom voice. "I ca-can't understand the full context, but it seems to anger the eyeball a little."
This was different. Weird dreams could happen, but Dickie wondered if it had some sort of value. "How can an eyeball become angry?"
"By shaking and turning red like the demon's eye?"
Dickie blinked blankly. "Oh. I see now."
"Do you think I should be concerned about it?" said the pink-haired girl, biting her lip. "I don't know why, but it feels like it's trying to tell me something."
"This is not one of those dreams that shows you a vision of the future, right?" asked Dickie dumbly.
"Well, I dreamt of you landing on a unicorn's horn and two days later, you landed on the helmet of a guy dressed as a rhino," said the pink-haired girl with a flat voice and a straight face. "You haven't forgotten that?"
The helmet-wielding man's face reddened. "That time was when I learnt how to become a real man. We're never talking about it again!"
"I'm not sure if an eyeball would appear in the future. No one has ever taken the appearance of an eyeball. Or if it is possible to make a realistic, floating eyeball that could function independently without being attached to a human body."
Dickie nodded, thinking similarly. "Huh. I suppose you have a point. Though, let's not worry about it. We don't have any other evidence if it may mean something bad. You know that we got us."
The pink-haired girl smiled. Even though that dream was unnerving, she could remind herself that she was in a good place with her friend and co-partner. "Yeah. We got that."
Just before they could get into another conversation, a fox with a bat-themed ensemble, donning a black motorcycle helmet with bat ears and a holographic visor exhibiting cute eyes, entered the interior they were in.
"Hey!" he said. "I really want to let you know that we are almost here! Dread Overlord Splaarghön! Underlord Shaård! We are here."
"Ah, coming in a sec!" said Dickie, hearing his codename. "C'mon, Splaarghön, let's bounce."
The pink-haired girl smiled, nodding. "Right."
As the two young adults got themselves ready by the door, Splaarghön quickly checked herself to see if she was prepared.
Her entire outfit contained many shades of pink. Probably more flashy than Shaård's, but it felt true to her. Its bright colors made her feel like she was more outspoken than just being dull. The black leather bodysuit was thin and comfortable enough to stretch around, finished with pink armor covering her top half.
There were dull purple utility pockets on the sides of her body, but they weren't that big of a deal. Soft enough to be squeezed and hold anything while not being seen. Covering her hands were dull purple gloves with dark red spikes poking out; the perfect weapon for an uppercut.
Much like Shaård's her bright pink pants were held up by a dark pink belt with a triangle buckle; a random shape but fitting to her style. Finishing the touch were some pink diamond-shaped knee pads, a reminder of her past years in gym training, and dull purple combat boots, hard enough to break a spine.
Her long pink hair was tied in a braid ponytail, styled as a mohawk. She overdyed it through adding shades of dark pink and fuchsia. Several dark red spikes poked out from the braid ponytail horizontally, not poking in the back of her head. They would come in handy in case somebody tried to grab her by the hair.
"Remind me again," said Shaård, checking through his helmet for last-minute preparations. "What is the place we are raiding again?"
"We're taking all necessaries from this factory, Dickie," explained Splaarghön. "They were saved for some program giving away food for the 'needy'. So-called needy are those they selected from people who were dumb enough to claim they don't even afford a phone."
"Oh yeah," said Shaård, clicking his tongue as it slightly touched his sharp canines. "That would just make their purpose worthless. You know, it would have saved lots of money if we could convince them to donate food to those who really need it."
"Yeah," grumbled Splaarghön, crossing her arms. "But services approved by a filthy government select those they like the most. They would stay away from the 'unhygienic' ones. Maybe not for…drug dealers and pedophiles, but they can't shove out those who deserve a better life." She cracked her knuckles. "Just want to see the looks on their faces when they see that we are doing a better job than them."
"Easy there, cowgirl," reassured Shaård, wearing his helmet. "We are almost close to supplying all the poor areas we can find in the state. The only faces we need to see are the ones who are grateful to us."
Splaarghön opened her mouth, but it closed and her eyes widened in softness. "As always."
With the helicopter in position, the two young adults called their men to come over. Five could be able to make it for today's mission. They all wore armor and jumpsuits to protect themselves, embodying a heavy object motif for disguises. Each was wearing some sort of headgear, but it definitely wasn't a full-head mask.
One had a rectangular helmet with a holographic screen face and what appeared to be his hair poking through the top in the style of television antennas. Another had a hula hoop around her head like an angel halo, finished with paint over her eyes. A third strangely had his bald, square head painted with dots representing a dice.
"Wait a second," said Splaarghön, narrowing her eyes in realization. "Please trigger my memory. Why didn't we just go for helmets like the clones in Star Wars?"
"Well, apparently, everyone has to dress up like superheroes to not look like terrorists, Splaarghön," said Shaård, throwing his hands in the air. "We're about to look like felons and these costumes are the only way for the police not to connect the dots easily."
"Damn it, you're right."
Shaking her head, Splaarghön turned back to her teammates. "Listen up, everyone! Our pilot will change the security system in about 2 minutes, so we will have 20 minutes to quickly take all the necessary food from the warehouse before the army arrives. If there are still any security guards, show them 'down'. It won't be easy, but I want at least 30 big boxes of food!"
"Uh, hey, Splaarghön," said Shaård.
"What?" said Splaarghön, annoyed.
Shaård pointed to his own face and back at hers.
"Oh! I didn't forget."
She pulled out a long, flexible piece of hot pink rubber and poked it through her braid. Specifically on the very top of her head. It then transformed into a headset with cups covering her ears like earphones, a pink visor to cover her eyes and nose, and horns that resembled a devil's. She looked ridiculously cute.
"You still look like you," muttered Shaård.
"Oh, that thing," said Splaarghön, blushing in embarrassment. "I'll get to that when we jump out. Now, any questions?"
Everybody seemed to understand their objective. They were all ready to go.
"Actually," said the bat-costumed fox. "I do have a question."
"Good! Now let's go!" cut off Shaård.
"Wait, I was meant to tell you two something-"
"Hush now, soldier," said Splaarghön, gently putting a finger over the fox's mouth or at least where it should be. "Save it for later. Maybe it would be essential in battle. We're gonna teach those twits a lesson."
Her voice suddenly dripped in anger, her left eye flashed red.
Down below, it was another peaceful day for the workers in the food warehouse. A couple, but there weren't many workers needed to take care of all the food in the large storage room until more came in. The place was already too big with massive shelves and too many boxes to unpack. It would be much easier to pick them up with more workers and trucks. Nobody would notice the difference if a packet went missing.
It would be unfortunate if a crisis happened right now.
CRASH!
At least seven mysterious criminals in dark, bright neon colors burst through the roof, landing in various poses. Just look up the superhero poses applicable from browser history. On one side of the building, Shaård had a more dramatic pose, landing on his foot and knee with his cape fluttering lightly, a kunai-like spear in each hand.
Meanwhile, Splaarghön opted to just land in a three-point landing on the other side. A worker was fortunate enough to be greeted by her when she landed.
As she lifted her head to face him, her face revealed to have changed. It was barely makeup or human at all. A variant of black shell covered part of the left side of her face, shaped in an awkward, jagged look that stretched across her cheek to her nose before covering half of her forehead. The forehead itself was made from purple glass-like material with lighter lines resembling futuristic strips. Her left eye glowed an ominous dark hot pink with a single yellow pupil.
"Hello there!" she said, grinning.
The worker screeched. "Oh my gosh! It's the devil!"
"Whoa, whoa, whoa," said Splaarghön casually. "That's an exaggeration. I'm not a devil."
"But you have those horns! I know a demon when I see horns!"
"They aren't demon horns. They're actually resemble the antennas of a centipede."
"But you have a completely red eye!"
"That's because I'm a cyborg. I made myself a cyborg with only a few robotic implants to make sure that I'm still breathing."
"And your legs are too skinny to be human!"
"OK, this is getting boring." Without batting an eye, Splaarghön roundhouse kicked the worker in the face. Quite casually, only in the cheek. Regardless, when he dropped unconscious, the workers watching this looked pale. "I've overheard about your program donating these supplies to the wrong places. Have they ever bothered to do proper research?"
None of the workers answered back. They immediately scurried away, chased by the other cyborgs who were more than happy to scare them for their amusement. Eventually, one tripped over right in front of Splaarghön.
"But these would be sent to the places that deserve to have them!" the worker insisted.
She tried to stand up and tackle Splaarghön, but like a shining, speeding knight, Shaård charged in and threw the worker away.
"Yeah!" remarked Shaård. "That's what they all say! Grow up."
His cyborg look on his face was arguably scarier than Splaarghön, if not cooler. Or twisted as ever. It was the right side of his face covered by black shell and blue glass-like material with lighter stripes. The blue material took a shape reminiscent of a comic dialogue bubble or a lightning bolt with the tip of it close to the edge of his mouth. His right eye was dark purple with a lone yellow pupil.
Soon, all the workers were forced to flee the storage room. Their comms were shut down due to the cyborgs' hackers and by the time they were kicked out, all doors were locked. The cyborgs didn't need to wait long, given a lot of time to get what they need.
"Everyone grab a box you can find!" called Shaård. "Take all neccessarities! Junk food is for seconds!"
"Aww," whined the television-themed cyborg. "But I want to buy some exclusive Twinkies and bleach!"
[Experiment on Me (Extended Alternative Intro by Unorthodox) - Halsey]
[0:00]
"Too bad that most of your entrails are now machines and you can't skip college classes! We're paying you for your college fee, remember?"
Everybody got to work with grabbing all the products they could grab in this room with limited time. You see, as each cyborg went by a particular theme, they each had their own individual abilities based on their theme. This was useful whenever in combat, collecting, physical tasks or just for mundane fun.
For example, the bat-costumed fox used his suit to fly over the top of the shelves. Using his boots that grew spikes to resemble foot claws, he used them to grab the top boxes with ease. Most of them contained cereal, nuts or fruits; essential to the required nutrition for their people.
On the ground, Splaarghön and Shaård ran around to check on their fellow cyborgs. The two couldn't use their powers since they weren't too relevant in collection items. The former could use her spikes for combat and project holographic illusions to fool enemies. The latter could only use his powers whenever he needed a sharp blade from his hammerspace.
Though, he could fly around using his cape, which proved useful. He was jumping from shelf to shelf, gliding through the air with the cape. It was smooth sailing, like a peaceful kite in a sky with no clouds. But he sometimes remained on the ground alongside Splaarghön to snatch all they needed like regular people.
"Sir, is this enough?" said one cyborg, presenting their box. "I got a lot, but I'm unsure if it has everything the poor need?"
Splaarghön leaned forward, finding a variety of meat, vegetables and dips. The box was packed to the top, but she could see what he meant.
"Just grab some fruits and place them on top of the pile," she said hastily. "Just don't try to place too much. It's already full"
"Got it," said the cyborg, running back to grab small bags of apples.
[0:26]
"Attention, everyone!" said their pilot through their comms. "We've tried keeping them out, but we got seven to ten security guards about to break through the southwest door. We need to dispatch a few of you guys to distract them."
"I call first!" said Shaård, giddily raising his hand.
"Then I'm gonna assist you," offered Splaarghön.
The two cyborg leaders marched straight towards the emergency doors. It was no lie that backup would arrive. While the cyborgs could leave unscratched, that didn't mean they were going to take chances. Being this cocky could lead to a significant downfall.
[0:38]
The first security guard came rushing in with a baton in his hand. Shaård gladly took the first hit by sliding on the floor and kicking the guard in the ankle. To his surprise, despite being hit, the guard was resilient and hopped back. Huffing, Shaård finished off by doing a wipe at his legs, even kicking the guard right in the face.
Splaarghön was left to finish off the second guard that came in. The guard tried to take a swipe at her, but she leaned back before grabbing his arm, twisting it and spinning his entire body around, landing a punch right in the chin.
More guards poured in and there seemed to be a fair amount of enemies for the two cyborgs to take. They glanced at each other. Splaarghön was already smirking, clearly going to enjoy this. Shaård's was more repressed, but he grinned in acknowledgement. The two grins resembled the mischievous teens about to wreak havoc. After nodding, the two of them took out their weapons.
Splaarghön with the dark red spikes from her hair and Shaård with his favorite weapons styled as chainsaws.
Splaarghön had one guard who tried using double batons, quickly shielding herself with the spikes in her hands. She then swung her spikes down in an X formation, emitting a dark pink cross projection at him. The guard jumped back and she took this as an opportunity to land a single punch in his stomach. Her ruthless punch sent him flying into the wall.
Just before he could slide down, she threw one of her spikes right at him. It only stabbed the loose end of his shirt to keep him hanging by the wall.
Another guard rushed in and tried grabbing her by the arm, reaching for the spike. She proceeded to slam her elbow right into his chin three times before swinging the spike on her other hand to cut his shirt. Enough to frighten him without landing a bloody wound. Splaarghön wasted no time as she grabbed him by his collar, lifted him up before crushing him to the ground with a loud crunch.
[1:00]
Shaård's fighting style would have been equal to Splaarghön, but his was more wild and colorful. Without even activating the chainsaw parts yet, he used the flat side of his weapons to swat away any incoming guards. Like using baseball bats, he swung them around to create one hell of a tornado that sent them hesitant to take a step closer.
One managed to grab his cape and he nearly tripped over. The guard pulled him quickly and tried to wrap his arms around him. Seeing that he couldn't just run out easily, he dropped to one knee and spun around, pulling on his cape to throw the guard-forward. This even caused him to crash into two incoming guards as well.
Having an idea, Splaarghön rushed up to him, grabbed his cape and jumped on his shoulder, much to his chagrin. Using the cape, she swung upwards and the jump was high enough to land on one guard. He didn't fall down, but she used that as an opportunity to wrap her arms around his neck. She used all her weight to lean backwards, using her legs as the main controller.
The guard found himself spinning around with the pink-haired cyborg punching around any unlucky guards near them. Once she finished more than four, she leaned backwards further and so did the guard. Once her hands touched the ground, she used her legs to throw the guard away.
One guard took the wise idea of swiping her feet. She fell and quickly leapt back up on her feet, leaning back as the guard tried doing a swipe on her. Upon seeing her braid ponytail, he tried to grab it.
The reaction? A high-pitched, girly scream, holding onto his red hand. Apparently, grabbing onto a spiky braided ponytail could be deadly. Rolling her eyes, Splaarghön kicked him in the side, not bothering to finish him off.
"So sad when you believe pulling people by the hair would work," she deadpanned.
Shaård jumped back when one tried to headbutt him. In response, he tried to headbutt the guard which could have caused bloodshed due to his spiky helmet. But the surprise and the guard stepping back for safety allowed Shaård a chance to strike. He swung around his chainsaw weapon, the flat side slapping the guard in the face. With him knocked out, Shaård playfully kicked him upwards and he fell right into the arms of a dumbfounded guard.
Sliding on the floor again, Shaård got close before kicking upwards underneath the unconscious guard, sending him crashing into the dumbfounded guard's face. With the two men down, Shaård turned around to swing his weapons at any more coming towards him.
"One's getting away!" called Splaarghön.
In response, Shaård decided to throw his weapon forward. Close to it, Splaarghön kicked it to give it extra boost and sent it soaring at the speed of a bullet towards a fleeing guard. It hit him in the head by its handle, tipping him over like a bowling pin.
[1:23 to 2:18]
With most of the guards down, Splaarghön and Shaård picked up their weapons scattered around. They shared a similar cackle, fist-bumping each other with pride radiating from them. The bright colors reflected that much.
Checking behind, many of their teammates already gathered enough supplies to fill up around 50 boxes. All of them were departing through the holes of the ceiling either through a grappling hook or a flight ability. One by one to grab the boxes needed.
"We got enough now!" called the pilot's voice. "Evacuate immediately."
As if on cue, an army of guards stormed right into the room. The two cyborgs nearly found themselves trapped due to the immense number of them. The two nearly bumped into each other's backs, not expecting that many to come right on time. Shaård clenched his sharp teeth, looking ready for more bloodshed. However, Splaarghön wasn't focusing on another fight. Her eyes caught the look of a drooling, unhinged-looking guard.
"You are going down tonight!" he snarled with a sick grin. "Just you wait until I break you like a horse!"
Splaarghön didn't know why, but she doubted he would be willing to beat up just criminals.
It might give her another headache from getting to know what the man might be thinking, however.
Whatever, she thought. It was the perfect opportunity. The perfect scapegoat.
[2:40]
She lifted her hand and the mechanical functions inside her head fired. She could feel herself coming closer to the crazy guard, even if she didn't move. In her own words, she only sent neural messages to his head, feeling like she was in control of dragging them. This went along diving deep into what could evoke such a cool-looking guy like him.
And then, that guard heard one word in his mind before he fell into temptation.
"Kill."
[3:02]
Just one whisper and feeling a ghost floating away was enough to make the guard lose his utter composure. With a demented laughter, he turned around and wildly swung his baton to those who were behind him. His closest ones yelled in shock, attempting to use gentle words. They all fell on deaf ears. One solid punch to the face and they then gained the desire to get a single piece. They all fell as the guard found himself…frustrated.
All this pent-up anger towards being told that he messed too many things up. Needing to think that he might be good at anything. Translated into a slaughter machine. He felt the need to flush it out from his system but was oblivious that it never really left. All it did was want to bash a person while they were on the ground, which was what he was doing.
Those who managed to get up pounced on the raging guard. Fists were now coated in scratches and some blood. Their friends were left thrown down with black eyes. Witnesses nearby watched them in horror, no longer concentrating on the two cyborgs.
[3:13]
Splaarghön gasped, using her other arm to hold onto her forehead. As the guards scattered in all directions, she felt a buzzing headache. The worst thoughts going through her mind as she tried using them to abuse the guard…and it was even scary for her.
Shaård wrenched Splaarghön away from trying to control, convincing her to run. However, the damage was already down as the crazy guard was still in a full-blown panic attack. Continuously beating up one guy he got by the throat. Despite the majority now losing any sense of direction of who pushed who, the sane guards followed the running cyborgs.
To throw them off, Shaård turned on his chainsaw weapon and used it to cut off the leg of one of the high shelves. The guard ran away as the shelf blocked them from moving forward.
"Sorry!" called Shaård.
[3:25]
With the guards far away from them, Shaård used his cape to fly out through the ceiling, holding onto Splaarghön as she tried to recover. The pink-haired girl was starting to see stars by the time she was in the safety of his arms.
All the cyborgs finally returned to the helicopter. Completely filled with boxes of essentials and nutritious food. The pilot didn't need a heads up as he steered the helicopter away and into the woods. No one would be able to find them easily there.
[3:34 - End of Song]
Splaarghön groaned, holding onto her forehead. Dizzy, she slumped against the seat.
"I told you that using that ability was a bad idea!" said Shaård. "You're just gonna blind yourself as well."
Splaarghön grunted, annoyed. "I thought I was already strong, so this was an opportunity to test it."
"Not in battle. I don't want to see you having a nose bleed when we should flee. At this rate, it would be pretty unexpected of your burnouts when you use that power."
"At least we are all safe!" said the television-themed cyborg. "30 boxes in the bag and another so-called savior humiliated! With these programs now needing to reflect on themselves, we'll be able to have more supporters for sure!"
"Forget about the supporters, man," said the dice-themed cyborg. "What matters is that we now completed feeding those in need for this month!"
Nearly everyone started to celebrate, almost tempted to swing the stolen food around like it was confetti. Some of them fell over since they were indeed in a flying helicopter after all. But given that they couldn't get easily hurt as cyborgs, it didn't matter to them as they were in a great time. Those lying on the floor continued whooping like they were drunk.
Splaarghön chuckled, half-heartedly lifting up her fist in victory.
Shaård sighed, not wanting to be mad at his friend. "Just please practice your manipulation ability more back at the submarines. OK, Splaarghön?"
Splaarghön wanted to agree, but the pink-haired cyborg reminded herself that Shaård needed a lot of training as well before he could use his chainsaws on the battlefield. The first and last time he used his weapons without being careful, he got so caught up in the mad energy that he ended up accidentally injuring his opponent.
"OK, OK, Shaård," she said, patting him on the head. "I'll train. I'll train. I am close to figuring out how to convince one easily."
Her pants started to buzz suddenly. She casually took out a black phone from her pocket. To her surprise, she got 8 missed calls from a single person.
"Wait, you took your phone along with you?!" said Shaård.
"I have my own ways of protecting my belongings," hissed Splaarghön. "Don't even ask questions."
Shaård snorted. "Why do I sometimes end up being stuck on Stage B instead of Stage A…?"
The pink-haired cyborg noticed a text message sent by the caller who tried contacting her. It didn't display the name of the sender, but the message was enough to tell her who it was.
'You know what? I'm gonna come over to your hideout at 7 PM sharp. You kids don't really talk that much when on electronics these days. Cy soon.'
Oh, right. Him.
And Shaård saw the message. He groaned, echoing through the helicopter interior.
"Please don't tell me that you finally convinced him to join us," he complained.
"What are the alternatives?" reminded Splaarghön. "If any other criminal knows us, we might be in unwanted competition. Having the Great White Shark on our team not only steers them away but also increases our chances of winning."
"You think so?" piped up one of the cyborgs. "He's a little…insane."
"A little 'insane'?!" exclaimed the bat-themed fox. "That guy is a whackjob who never completed high school! I deeply regret saying this out loud, but I just have to…"
"Nah, it's fine," grunted the hula-hoop-themed cyborg. "We all know that he is a piece of s-"
"But don't you all remember what he can do?" explained Splaarghön, her voice firm that took the attention of everyone. Whenever she had to clarify, she was the voice of reason. "This is the mercenary who is both infamous AND famous in the criminal world. His popularity is larger for pirates, but everyone who underestimates him is proven wrong. Remember that one time of the Bite of 93?"
"Oh yeah," said the television-themed cyborg. "It was a shocker that time."
"But that isn't a historical event that happened," pointed out the bat-themed fox.
"Turns out he was a part of it," said Shaård, taking off his helmet. "He really loves killing."
"And remember the time when he successfully killed a group of conceited police cops restricting activity on the beach by using blockades?" asked Splaarghön.
"Wait, but I heard the police cops were heroes there."
"Is that what you heard? It's not really. There was an actual political statement that they were trying to prevent people sunbathe under the bright sun due to forgetting to wear hats."
"Look, we can ramble on about these fairy tales about the Great White Shark," said Shaård, crossing his arms. "But it's not going to gloss over the fact that he'll 'listen' properly. He's like a homeless, homicidal person living in my aunt's attic watching instruction videos on how to make a yo-yo."
Splaarghön narrowed her eyes. "OK, I know you're not completely on board. However, if we have all the supplies suitable for him and if he understands our cause, then it shouldn't hurt. And you know that he wouldn't try to backstab us since we are paying him well."
"But aren't we better than him? Like psychologically?" questioned the bat-themed fox.
"I don't care if he has anything," said Splaarghön sternly. "As long as he doesn't interfere us, then none of us should worry. Worry all you want, but have some respect at least to the Great White Shark when he joins us tonight. And that's final."
There were a couple of mumbles and grumbling as the cyborgs reluctantly agreed. While they didn't feel comfortable with having the Great White Shark, what choice did they have against any other threats? He is a mercenary, a nearly invincible soldier who survived constantly. Splaarghön's words carried the reminders of a teacher in class, being harsh to the naughty children.
"Fine," whispered Shaård, pouting. "I'll just let the shark child in. Geez…"
"Thank you," said Splaarghön.
"You know, I like you a bit better when you are not selective."
Splaarghön hummed before smirking. "I like you a lot better when you use logic on this."
Shaård snorted, knowing that Splaarghön was trying to catch up with the snark. "I'll make sure to use that next time."
Now with that cleared up, let's head straight into the main action.
Good day to see you all again, my friends. I'm sure that by now, you wouldn't be like, 'Oooooh, it's a big, bad, scary wolf! I don't want to talk to him! He's a monster.' But, honestly, not gonna lie, we already past that stage. So I'm sure that this problem won't arise again, right?
Sort of, but not in the way you think. Call it like a spiritual journey. Maybe I should recap what happened last year since I'm sure that there are rookies who don't know me or the rest of the Bad Guys before. Am I right?
…
Judging by that silence, that means you all DO know what happened. Guess that we still have the good old fanbase supporting us. Makes my tail wag hearing how much you endear all of us. This story wouldn't have been made if our first adventure hadn't become impactful. But regardless, need to fill the new people in.
We are the Bad Guys. A group of 'bad' animals seen as monsters by society. Over the years, we became some of the best criminals in Los Angeles! Do we wish that the world wouldn't see us as monsters? Yeah, we knew that these were the cards we had during that time, so why not play them? It's a contest we're willing to play.
That is until a very fateful day when I led my team on a suicidal mission: stealing the Golden Dolphin. A trophy that ruined every criminal's career.
However, it somehow became a blessing as we learned more than we thought. We got to meet Diane Foxington, AKA the former Crimson Paw. We found a new angle with becoming beyond what the world saw us as. And we did take down a maniacal guinea pig trying to use a butt rock to steal charity money. In the end, it was no contest.
Ultimately, all this came down to moving past the framings. We came to a new life that would suit us better. After one year of prison, it started out shaky since we didn't have a clear direction. While we were allowed to return to society, our criminal records were always meddling in getting a regular job.
Knowing that we couldn't shake off our criminal expertise, we strike up a new career. That's why I'm proud to say that I'm a mercenary-for-hire! And a vigilante as well.
The others are trying their best to pick up, but we still like to have fun with heists. Snake gave a good point that maintaining the criminal impression could lead us to intercept anything in the criminal world without tipping others off.
I knew I would be very ambitious in competing with other criminals. Even though I left it behind, just in case I go wild. Besides, we've gone far from having an everyday life. We still need a little more action in our lives. I find myself still wanting to help people, so being a vigilante is the best thing I want to do.
Surprisingly, despite working as the governor and wanting to keep things fair, Diane funded the Bad Guys for a headstart. We would need starting money to get somewhere on weapons and supplies to survive. She decided to let us continue being criminals, or at least being against the law, if we wanted to try to tackle some schemes the government or police couldn't solve.
While she warned me that it would take more than death for her to help us if the police arrested us, she was supportive towards what we chose to do. Maybe it was because she planned to reveal that she was the Crimson Paw or aware that our honorable member, Mr. Hornet, led a detective department that could bring justice despite being a criminal himself.
I have to admit that this kind of lifestyle allows me to breathe better. Not only does it touchs back on my old roots with what I enjoyed with my friends, but it also allows us to be heroes in our own way. Not the superheroes you imagine, eh?
Surprisingly, a lot of people don't fear us anymore. Sure, some may not agree that it would be the right thing to be mercenaries, but one thing that makes me proud is that they are grateful for what we could do for them, especially when you compare us against other villains.
Nobody knows that our gateway into the criminal world keeps us connected, knowing who will be the next villain to attack.
But we're not gonna discuss about that gateway. That one is normal. Because this story, it's not normal at all. And even after a few weeks, I still feel moved by its constant twists and turns. All I could say is that it could have changed everything if it weren't for us making the call.
If you all expect that this was an easy mission to do after our redemption, then you're wrong. This is a different gateway.
And there were no take-home messages to feel completely good about them.
AN: Might have made this a little cheesy or so. This monologue and the ending sentence actually take inspiration from Eep's opening narration in The Croods.
For some context on what you are all seeing, we are introducing our main villains of the story! Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome my version of Dread Overlord Splaarghön and Underlord Shaård!
For those fans of the book series, I apologize for changing them to human. Due to the grounded tone of the film universe, I want to stay consistent with it, thus making them human. But don't worry as they will retain faithful elements you will recognise, primarily their personalities. Additionally, making the villains more younger human cyborgs adds a new layer to the Bad Guys world, especially since they're still powerful threats.
Dread Overlord Splaarghön is probably one of my favorite characters to write about. As the gender-flipped, human counterpart of the centipede demon, she's the leader of her own crew. Aside from being more affable, she's more reckless than her book counterpart. Many characteristics of hers would come from Karli Morgenthau (Falcon and the Winter Soldier), Butter Leader (Peacemaker) and Mongal (The Suicide Squad). I'm just lucky that by coincidence, her pink armor reflects the pink coloring added to her book counterpart in the cover Book 17.
Underlord Shaård makes his debut as well, though he's arguably more no-nonsense, snarkier and cautious than his book counterpart. What's seen so far, he's playing an equal role with his co-partner. He's another fun character to write about and if you've seen my work, I had a blast drawing him this year. He and Splaarghön provides such a great dynamic, one that I like to apply in my previous stories. He can be said to be a combination of Silco (Arcane) and Serial Designation N (Murder Drones).
As for who would voice them, I would imagine Samara Weaving and Michael Kovach to voice Splaarghön and Shaård, respectively. Originally, I was gonna have Splaarghön's potential VA to be Elsie Lovelock for her performance as Uzi (Murder Drones), but after growing interested in seeing slasher movies, I've decided to have Samara Weaving take the cake. So expect Splaarghön to have an Australian accent and a lot of guttural screams. Kovach's distinct voices feel like they are the perfect fit for Shaård, so expect hearing him sound like N or Rocky (Lackadaisy).
Getting into the chapter itself, I have taken inspiration from Harley Quinn: Birds of Prey to make the fighting choreography. The devil joke is actually a reference to How To Train Your Dragon: The Hidden World and the squabble over 'The Great White Shark' is inspired by Sonic the Hedgehog (2020). Just because this will be a darker sequel doesn't mean there cannot be good laughs here.
What do you think of this introduction chapter? From the creepy intro to the vandalizing to the epic fight to the new characters themselves? Let me know in the reviews and next chapter, we'll be seeing our favorite rogues soon!
Thank you for reading this chapter! If you enjoy this story so far, be sure to favorite or follow. Constructive criticism is well-needed, but if any flames, then it's down the drain.
As this story is still in development (at the halfway point), the update schedule may be slow. I'll be trying to do a few updates weekly or daily, but if I go silent, that means I'm back working. The next chapter will come in two days, right on New Year's Day! Then, chapter releases will be on every three days.
Until next time, keep on rocking!