(Author's Note: Before you continue reading, I want to give a shout-out to the friend who gave me the idea for this and some story/scenes four years ago.)
F.O.W.L. High Command was made up of three shadowy figures. Sometimes, those shadows would change, but even those inside the criminal organization didn't know where new High Command members came from. Currently, High Command was composed of three shadowy figures: a buzzard, a short duck with fangs, and a bird with a hat.
High Command were meeting amongst themselves to check on their current projects.
The duck with fangs said, "Our latest cyborg is coming along well. We should be able to put him back in the field soon."
"And what about the boy?" the bird with the hat asked.
"The boy is making good progress," the buzzard replied. "We should give him a gift."
The bird with the hat said, "I have just the thing."
The boy's room was dimly lit inside. On one wall was a series of newspaper clippings related to Negaduck, Darkwing's destructive doppelganger. The last article was about his breakout from St. Canard Maximum Security Prison. Guns were mounted on another wall, but they were all BB rifles. F.O.W.L. hadn't allowed the child a real gun… yet. There was a bed in one corner, and on that bed's nightstand was an avian skull.
If someone saw the room, they might think a monster, thug, or teenager lived there. The boy could fit in the "monster" category, but to a stranger, he'd look like a normal child. Right now, he was sharpening a machete in one corner of the room.
Someone knocked on the room's metal door. The door had a slot at the boy's eye height. He looked through it and asked the Egghead on the other side, "What do you want?"
"High Command brought you something." The Egghead showed the child a large package that he was carrying with both hands. The boy unlocked the door and let the Egghead in. As he came in, he asked, "Why do they keep giving you all this stuff, kid?"
"First…" the child pointed the machete at the Egghead's neck. "Don't call me kid. Second, they give me all this stuff because I'm learning what they want me to learn."
The Egghead was smart enough to not ask what F.O.W.L.'s curriculum was like. He put the large package on the ground and asked, "What did you get this time?"
The child put the machete down and tore open the package with his bare hands. Inside was a chainsaw with an orange hilt. Its blades were sharp enough to shine in the dim light. The boy picked the chainsaw up, using both hands and all his strength, and smiled as he held it. "Groovy."
After Drake Mallard retired from being Darkwing Duck, he needed a job. S.H.U.S.H. was nice enough to set him up with a fake resume and references. He found a job at the St. Canard Community College, teaching acting classes. He had to act to maintain a secret identity and strike fear into the hearts of criminals, after all.
Drake was heading home from his teacher job when he saw a group of vehicles outside his house. He almost panicked and braced for the worst: that F.O.W.L. had found Harold Webber and were trying to kill the new Darkwing Duck. Then he saw they were teenagers on red, yellow, and black motorcycles. It was the NDs, the gang of criminals that worshiped Negaduck. They may have styled themselves after one of Darkwing Duck's worst enemies, but they hardly seemed more than a bunch of bored brats.
Drake parked on the street, just inches away from the leader's motorcycle. Said leader looked back when he heard the car stop in front of his ride. He yelled at Drake, "Hey! Get your car away from my hog, old man!"
Drake stepped out of his car, glaring at the leader. "And you kids are parked right outside my house. You're trespassing. I suggest you leave…or you'll be really, really sorry you didn't."
The leader laughed. The other members of the gang laughed with him. "Who do you think you're talking to, old man? We're the NDs!"
Drake rolled his eyes. "Sure you are." To start, he knew the real Negaduck would have hated that name.
The leader threw a punch, but Drake dodged. He whacked the leader with his cane until he fell to the ground. The other members crowded around Drake, but he gave them a smile. He said under his breath, "Let's get dangerous."
Drake unsheathed the sword that was hidden in his cane. Some of the gang backed away, but some others were undeterred. Drake didn't want to slash the sword into them, so he used the sword to slash into their outfits. One cut through a shirt, and another through a hat, was enough to send most of the NDs scrambling back.
Drake cornered one remaining ND. He whimpered, "Y-You're not going to cut me, are you?"
Drake brought the blade close to the ND's chest. "Well, since you asked nicely…"
"GYAH!" the last ND screamed before running away.
Drake swung the cane-sword around wildly, just to prove his point. "That's right! You better run! Drake Mallard can protect his house from you wannabe Negaducks, and whatever other atrocious adolescents come his way!"
The NDs crawled back to their bikes and once they were on them, they zipped away. When they made it out of sight, Drake put the sword back in its sheath. He parked his car in the garage and entered the house from there. Gosalyn and Launchpad were in the living room, watching television, when Drake came in.
Gosalyn looked at her father and asked, "That was those ND kids again, wasn't it?"
"Man, I hate those guys," Launchpad commented.
Drake replied, "Yeah, it was them, but I took care of them."
"Launchpad and I saw the whole thing." Gosalyn smirked. "Maybe I should've fired an arrow at them. That would've really sent them packing!"
Drake looked around. "Is Harold already out on patrol?"
Launchpad said, "Yeah, you just missed him, Drake."
"Then I'll tell him to keep an eye out for any NDs."
Drake sent a text message directly to the Ratcatcher. He told Harold to be on the lookout for any members of the NDs making mischief. Harold, as both himself and Darkwing, had only seen them a few times. Just dressing as Darkwing was enough to scare them off, usually.
The NDs that parked in front of the Mallard household were currently parked in an alleyway far from the suburbs. Drake had scared them enough to send them to the other side of St. Canard. The leader, who had given himself the appropriate nickname Rebel, pulled off his helmet and sighed. "I can't believe we bolted from that bozo. All he did was swing around a sword and cut up our clothes!"
"But he could have done worse," Jet, another member, pointed out.
"Oh, shut up, Jet."
"What we need are weapons," another member said.
Rebel asked, "And where would we be getting them, Shade? I already begged my parents for this bike. Do you really think they'll let me have a real flamethrower?"
Their conversation was interrupted by red smoke pouring into the alleyway. The NDs coughed, and one of them, Hook, reached out for whoever set it off. She managed to grab someone who flailed around when she picked them up.
When the smoke cleared, Hook found she was holding a child dressed as Negaduck. All the NDs dressed similarly to Negaduck, sure, but this boy was wearing a junior-size Negaduck costume. He snapped, "Hey! You ruined my entrance!"
Hook let the kid go and warned, "You shouldn't be letting off smoke bombs near us. We won't be so nice next time."
"Are you looking to join us?" Jet asked. "You're a little younger than our usual age range."
The boy didn't answer her question. Instead, he introduced himself with a flare of his cape. "I am the most fiendish terror that flaps in the darkest night. I am the bad neighborhood you don't want to get lost in. I am Negaduck!"
Some of the NDs snickered, but Rebel looked curious. After the run-in with that old man, he hesitated to judge a book by its cover. He instead told the child, "If you're Negaduck, then prove it."
"You're going to eat those words, chief." The child pushed his way past Rebel and to the leader's motorcycle. From his cape, he produced a chainsaw. Its blade was so sharp and new it shimmered in the moonlight.
The child turned on the chainsaw and revved it. The noise echoed through the alleyway. Then he sliced into Rebel's motorcycle. The chainsaw may have been new, but the boy used it like an old pro.
"My hog!" Rebel screamed. He looked ready to tear the kid in half, until he realized the kid could tear him in half, even easier than he had to the bike. Rebel grumbled, "My parents are gonna kill me…"
"I'll get you a new one," the boy said once he ceased his senseless destruction. The motorcycle's pieces were barely recognizable when he was done. "And I can get you real weapons. Just listen to me, and I'll get you anything you want."