Cold Reception

by Numbuh Phenon

When a rogue operative threatens to reveal the GKND, Nigel is sent back down to stop them by any means necessary. But people have changed and the boy is tangled in a web of love and betrayal as he finds out just who he has been assigned to hunt down.

28. IV: The Delightful Tale of Sector Z

Link has been reestablished. Now resuming trans—

ERROR. ERROR.

Re-calibrating…

The Big Super-Computer-ma-bob apologizes for this inconvenience.

Please enjoy this supplementary operation report while database is reconstructed.

: Accessing way-back mission archives:

Now loading kids next door mission:

Operation: T.E.A*

Terrible.

Evil.

Arises.

*Warning. System has tagged operation designation as a duplicate. SYSTEM ADMIN, please rectify…

---

many, many years ago

In space, no one can hear you scream.

Unless you were on Kids Next Door Moonbase.

There? People could hear you screaming out the wazoo.

Why, there was so much screaming going on there; it was practically white noise for Global Command. If there ever was a moment when there wasn't the lively chatter of a buhmillion kids from all walks of life communing on the base to end all bases, it was either winter holiday break or something was terribly, horribly wrong.

At the moment, it was barely Thanksgiving. And given how quiet the Moonbase currently was, it was safe to say the silence was due to the latter scenario.

I.e., something terrible was going down.

In docking bay eleventeen, a gaggle of operatives stiffly patrolled the area. Their movements were almost robotic, and their once bright eyes were now dull and listless as they meandered about, attending to some command with nary a fuss.

"Come on, guys! Snap out of it!" came a muffled shout from a holding cell. A fist pounded against the metal door, frantic eyes glaring out the tiny peephole. "You gotta fight it!"

The guard of the door, a random cafeteria working armed with a SCAMP rifle, narrowed her eyes at the door. "Be…quiet…"

Her tone lacked agency. Devoid of any emotion.

The prisoner redoubled their efforts, the door trembling under their futile efforts. "I got injured operatives and scared cadets in here, you jerk!" His voice was littered with panicked urgency. "One of them needs an inhaler! ASA-NOW!"

The cafeteria guard ignored him, focusing on her single-minded directive.

Suddenly, the docking bay lit up as a single SCAMPER hovered over the loading terminal. Nearby, an out-of-place DOH-DOH Squad officer jerkily directed a gaggle of science nerds to form up around the galley plank.

All children present crowded around the ship, the sights of their rifles steady against the hull's structural weak points.

The door to the SCAMPER hissed open, weapons humming madly in response.

"Don't…move," the kid in charge demanded of the unknown pilot. He glared. "State…your…business."

From the bowels of the ship, an accented voice cried, "Pizza delivery!"

"We did not order a…" the guard blinked, everyone looking down confused as a pizza box was chucked in the middle of their group. "…pizza?"

The cardboard lid slowly opened on its own, an angel choir sounding off as they all bore witness to the golden glory of the fabled Ninety-Nine Cheese New York Style Pizza.

Even in their mind-addled stated state, all operatives present couldn't stop their mouths from salivating.

Steam rose from the pie's crust as the cheese atop began to boil and bubble.

SPLOOOOOOOSH!

The uncut, medium-sized pie exploded in a gooey burst of Parmesan, Asiago, and mozzarella. The force blew back all caught unaware, their bodies glued and trapped to nearby surfaces by hot, sticky cheese.

The way clear, a small figure cockily ambled out of the scamper. An African-American boy strutted onto the Moonbase proper, dressed in a worn, orange jumpsuit, the torso folded down to reveal the stretchy white jersey baggy against his chest. He kicked the toes of his Nike sneakers against the deck, pumping up his kicks for the inevitable butt-whooping he was about to dish out.

Jerome Kingsly used the nozzle of his blaster to adjust his shades, combing through his messy fro whilst his lips curled into a self-assured smirk. "Down in Brooklyn, we call that the Nine-Nine Special."

"Numbuh Nine-Nine! Over here!"

"'Ey, if it ain't Numbuh 34th Street," Jerome laughed, ducking and rolling his way over the familiar voice. The stranglers around him snapped from their stupor, firing at him with murderous zeel, but Jerome took it in stride, nimbly dodging every shot. He leaned against the cell door, peeking around for cover as he addressed the trapped boy. "How's that fancy Global Shipyard promotion treatin' ya, pal?"

"Oh, y'know. Just havin' the time of my life. All sunshine and applesauce – WOULD YA HURRY UP AND GET US OUTTA 'ERE!?"

"Hold that thought." Glancing up, Jerome smirked as he noted the remainder of the Moonbase guards all huddled just so auspiciously under dock eleven-teen's incoming and outgoing flight board. He reached into one of his jumpsuit's many pockets and leisurely unraveled a stick of gum.

As he chewed, he leveled his blaster at the head of the firing squad, lining up a head shot. At the last possible second, he diverted his aim, firing off a single subway coin into the air.

"Fool!" Even in his off-state, the leader of the enforcers laughed, mocking Jerome's terrible aim. "You…missed!"

Jerome popped a bubble. "That right?"

Confused, the children stopped firing to look up, noticing the subway coin ricocheting across the docking area. Like a cat with a laser pointer, they eagerly followed the coin, head zipping back and forth, chasing its trajectory. Finally, it clinked off the SCAMPER's thruster and used its built-up momentum to cut through the rope suspending the flight board.

It was too little too late. By the time the firing squad realized what had happened, they were already buried and whimpering under the rubble.

Jerome laughed, spitting out his GUMMBO and shaping it into a key. He jiggled it into the cell door, smirk widening as it flew open, depositing a torrent of freed hostage at his feet. "Man, am I good, or what?"

"Make room!" Numbuh Thirty-Fourth Street yelled, urgently clearing space as they gently laid out a girl in the midst of a panic attack. As her breath became more labor, the Shipyard Director cursed under his breath. "For the love of gum, where is her inhaler!?"

Out of the corner of his shades, Jerome saw something on a nearby docking terminal. Quickly flicking out a yo-yo, he lassoed the item, jerking it back to confidently grip the elusive inhaler. He shrugged Thirty-Fourth Street aside, easily cradling the frazzled girl's head.

Jerome's look softened into genuine concern. "Hey there, kiddo," he said gently, positioning the inhaler near her mouth. "They call me Nine-Nine. What's ya name?"

The girl's eyes fluttered open, and she took a shaky breath. "C-Cassandra," she whispered, her tiny body trembling.

"Alright, Cassandra, just breathe with me, okay?" Jerome murmured, his voice soothing and calm. "Nice and easy. In...and out."

He carefully placed the inhaler between her lips and pressed down on the canister, delivering a dose of the medication. Cassandra's breaths were still shallow, but he could see the initial signs of relief beginning to spread across her face.

"Exact-a-mundo," Jerome encouraged. "Just like that. You're almost there."

As Cassandra's breathing returned to normal, she looked up at Jerome with a mixture of relief and gratitude. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice still a bit shaky but filled with trust.

Her looked down at her wryly. "Something's tellin' me ya weren't on the straight and narrow with the Arctic Commander about your condition."

"I-It's not that bad, honest!" Cassandra whimpered. "I…I just wanted to join so I could help fight back against the bullies…" Her eyes darted between him and Thirty-Fourth Street. "Please…don't tell."

"Heh. Spunky. I like that. Think that's grounds for keepin' a little secret," he winked. He then leveled a look at his old teammate. "Ain't that right?"

Numbuh Thirty-Fourth frowned, an unsure noise scratching up his throat.

"Ain't that right, Chauncey?"

With a roll of his eyes, Thirty-Fourth Street caved. "I ain't seen nuthin'." He then glared at the rest of the group, the warning in his tone raising his volume. "And man, I'd hate to see what happens to the tattletale who snitches. Get what I'm sayin'?"

The other cadets and freed guards whistled innocently, suddenly becoming very interested in all the pizza cheese coating the walls.

"Geez, some Bring the Cadets to the Moonbase day this turned out to be. I didn't sign up for this," he grumbled, leaning against the cell door to catch his breath. He smiled at Jerome. "Guess I can forgive a wiseguy like you for showin' up all unannounced-like and muckin' up my flight logs."

"I was in the neighborhood," Jerome shrugged as he stood. "What heck is going on, man?"

"It's like a horror flick, man!" the boy raved, eyes wide and traumatized. "Everything was normal, all peachy keen. Then some idiots deliver us tea instead of root beer. Then kids start whining 'bout bein' thirsty. Then they cave and start sippin' the crud. Then they get all zombiefied and start takin' over!" He explained, frantically pacing a trench in the floor. "It was game over, man! GAME OVER!"

"Chill out," Jerome pacified, gripping the boy's shoulder and shaking him into focus. "What's this about tea?"

"I'm telling ya, Nine-Nine. One sip and it was mutiny city!" he stressed again. "And…and it all started when those weirdos showed up!"

"Weirdos?"

"They came in with the decommissioning squad," Cassandra spoke up. Both boys attention were on her as she reported what she saw. "They…they were the first ones to start acting weird. And they were around them…the two teenagers."

"Teenagers," Jerome hissed. It was always teenagers. "What are teens doing on the Moonbase?"

Numbuh Thrity-Fourth grumbled, "Thought they were the newest prisoners. But…now that I think about it, had a funny feelin' 'bout those two. Something was off…wrong."

Jerome rubbed his chin, eyes narrowing behind his shades. "Teens using tea to brainwash us? Gotta say, Chauncey, that's a new for me."

"Yeah? Well, we'll add it to the list once we retake this hotdog stand," the boy snapped as he began typing away at the terminal. As he regained access to the system, he flipped through various comm channels to be coordinating a counter-offensive. "Get the fellas on the horn. Now that you've cleared the the docking bay, I can help 'em land without alerting the rest of the base."

Jerome blinked. "Uh, the rest of the fellas?"

Numbuh Thirty-Fourth Street slowly raised his head, looking at Jerome skeptically. "You responded to the distress signal, right? So you did the smart thing and brought all of Sector NYC as backup, right?"

Jerome scratched the back of his neck, managing a hesitant chuckle. "Uh, it's less Sector NYC and more like just little ol' me, if ya catch my drift."

"YOU DUMMYHEAD!" Thirty-Fourth snapped, pounding on Jerome in frustration. "You mean to tell me Moonbase sends out a code: 'we're all gonna die!', and you wander in here all on your lonesome!?"

"The guys are putting out fires all over Manhattan. It woulda taken, like, forever to get 'em all together quick enough. I had to move!"

"But we'd stand a better chance with a whole sector!"

"You forget who you're talkin' to, pal?" Jerome smirked, puffing up his chest as he twirled his blaster. "Basically a one-kid army. I get it on just fine by myself. It ain't no thing."

"It is a HUGE thing, Nine-Nine! Your lone-wolf act is gonna someone killed one day!"

"As if," Jerome waved off dismissively. "C'mon, man, it's me! It'd just be like old times." He playfully elbowed his old sector mate. "I know you missed this."

"Yeah, like I miss a wedgie," Thirty-Fourth Grumbled as he messaged his temples. "Fine! The cadets are fine, and the boys aren't too banged up. Between you and me, we can take him to free the rest of the DOH-DOH down in D-Block—"

"SOMEONE! ANYONE! ANSWER!"

Cursing, Thirty-Fourth threw himself back to the terminal, holding the headset to his ear. "This is Numbuh 34th Street from docking bay eleven-teen. What's your status?"

"Bad!" cried the operative over the line. There was pause, capped off by muffled laser fire before the timid operative spoke again. "They got us pinned down on the whisbee deck! Plus we got eyes on two scary looking teenagers heading toward Global Command; the cadets up there haven't even been through orientation!"

Thirty-Fourth slammed his fist down. "Any word on the Supreme Leader?"

"She went after the teens!"

Jerome tensed.

"Son of a rainbow monkey!" Numbuh Thirty-Fourth groaned, slumping against the terminal. "Hold down the fort. We're gonna get back up. Remember, they're still our friends. Shoot to stun, NOT to boo-boo! End transmission!"

"HURRY!"

"Okay. Numbuh 2-and-2-Quarters, you stay here and guard the cadets. Numbuhs 911A and 911B, load up. Numbuh Nine-Nine, you and me are takin' point to…" Suddenly, Thirty-Fourth blinked, seeing an empty spot his old teammate used to occupy. "Nine-Nine?"

"You handle freeing the DOH-DOH Squad, Thirty-Fourth."

Flabbergasted, Thirty-Fourth and his posse looked to Jerome loading up into a transport tube, hastily jury-rigging the machine for an extra, rocket-fueled boost. After crossing a few wires, the glass encased him, and he threw out a lazy two-fingered salute. "I'm gonna go handle some business."

"JEROME!"

On the Global Command deck, a trembling cadet held his breath as if his life depended on it.

"Come out, come out, where ever you aaaaaare."

A young and terrified Steve whimpered as he huddled behind an arcade machine turned-mission computer. The sound of heels clacking against the floor and the evil cackling of his pursuers made his blood run cold.

In his arms was a fellow cadet-prospect, a girl not much older than he, her unconscious face swallowed up by a big, red hat a bit too big for her head. He remembered how she picked him out of the crowd of toddlers, a wallflower like himself, slammed her last candy bar in his hand and demanded they would be buddies today. She had decided and claimed there was no going back on this.

He tried to remember the warm, fuzzy feeling he felt as her hand jerked his along the entire day. He tried to recall how brave she had been as she pushed him out of the way, taking a blow when the attack started.

As the teenagers—no, monsters lurked around, clutching up cadets one by one—he forced himself to be brave and protect both of them through this nightmare.

"There you are."

But he was just a kid. Bravery failed him as he froze, staring up in horror at the red-skinned devil smirking down at him.

"Your poor things. Working up such a thirst with all this running around," she cooed, a spade-tipped tail wrapping around his neck. It lifted him off the floor, his hands scratching against it in vein as she produced a mug of scalding tea. With a wick grin, she slowly brought it to his lips. "Let's fix that, shall we?"

SWOOOOSH!

Something tore through the air, colliding against her skull with a bang! The demon yowled, knocked off her feet and thrown to the side.

Steve landed on his knees, taking greedy mouthfuls of air as he rubbed his neck. He looked up at the figure in front of him, his eyes seeing a flash of bright, yellow leopard-spotted sweater standing between him and certain doom.

The older girl whipped her head around, a short bob of raven locks whipping underneath a samurai colander helmet. Her brown eyes were hard as she ordered, "RUN!"

Steve grabbed his fallen friend and ran. The sounds of battle reached his ears, but he just kept running. When the older girl screamed and the demon began laughing, Steve forced himself not to look back as he ran, and ran, and ran.

The last escape pod was in sight. They were gonna make it!

"Off in such a hurry?"

A tailed coiled around his ankle, pulling him down. He glanced up, fear strangling his throat as another demon giggled, slowly winding her tail to leisurely reel him in. "You silly little rascal, the festivities are only beginning!"

Steve kicked and shook his leg to no avail. She laughed, the sound cruel and grating on his ears. He looked to the escape pod, which was getting further and further away. He looked down at the girl in his arms, her eyes fluttering open. "Uh, w-what's going on?"

Gulping, Steve looked at his ankle, the escape pod, and the girl with the big red hat who shared the last of her candy.

He remembered to be brave.

The girl yelped as she was tossed into the escape pod. As the shuttle door closed around her, she frantically pounded against the door, eyes locking with Steve as she was shot to safety of Earth below.

"Aw, what a brave young man you are," his captor gushed, voice sickeningly sweet. Using her demonic tail, she lifted him up by his ankle, the steam from her tea cup wafting up and stinging his eyes. "I think you deserve a reward."

As the vile brew was forced into his mouth, Steve swallowed the tea as everything went dark.

Minutes later, a figure shot out of the mouth of a funnel tube, breaking the glass in a dramatic fashion and making a three-point landing right in the center of Global Command. Jerome smirked, dual-wielding coin-loaded blasters he assessed the situation. "Please tell me someone saw that. I don't do flashy entrances for the heck of it."

No fanfare greeted him. He snorted, cautiously walking around the deck. "'Ey, don't all jump out at once."

A twitch to his left had him spinning, weapons hot. Upon seeing his would-be foes, he groaned.

A group of tea addled cadets. Just great.

"Easy there, half-pints," he warned as they slowly surrounded him. Carefully, he flicked his blaster, lowering the damage output to the lowest setting as his eye regarded their sloppy attack formation. "I know you're cranky and all hyped up on leaf juice, but how's about we hunker down for a little nap, huh?"

The cadets snarled as they lunged.

"Yeah, figured ya wouldn't go for that."

One cadet went to tackle him, but he easily sailed over them. Hooking his heel into their belt, he landed and used his foot to swing the boy into a girl coming in for a left hook. He lowered his blaster, shooting short bursts of subway tokens at their heels. The coins lightly rattled their stance, sending them stumbling, giving him an opening to lightly chop their necks, knocking them out cold.

The last trio of cadets all jumped at once. Chuckling, he back flipped over them, letting them crash into each other. Mid-air, he tossed out his yo-yo, hogtying the discombobulated toddlers up in a bunch.

Landing in a crouch, Jerome prided himself on his efficient work. "I'll put in a good word for you, half-pints. Can tell all your friends ya lasted two minutes against a living legend."

"A 'living legend?' My, my, this young man has quite the ego, doesn't he, sister?"

Jerome let loose warning shots toward the rafters, frowning as he tried to pinpoint the voice's source.

"Indeed, dear sister. Seems quite common for this rebellious lot."

Jerome shivered, the second voice against his ear. He growled, turning and shooting at thin air. "Quit playin' hide'n'seek! It's getting old!"

The voices' laughter danced through the air, swirling around him and whipping up the zippers of his jumpsuit. "But we thought you darlings loved to play little games?"

"Oh, I play alright—play to win!" Jerome challenged, backing and scanning for the assailants. "And you're gonna be calling yourselves 'Butts Whooped' after I've cleaned house!"

"My stars, the vulgarity! The youth of this modern are so flippant. It's rather droll."

"This recalcitrant little popinjay just will not cease with his nonsense."

"Sister, I believe it's time for us to give him a schooling…"

At last, he found them. There, lounging together on the Supreme Leader's throne, were two blonde teenagers making a mockery of everything kiddy and sacred. They seemed to be twins; one dressed as a butler, sitting in the throne all prim, coordinated, with her fingers steepled into a triangle, exuding an air of calculated menace. Draped comfortable across her lap was her sister, cosplaying a maid with the epitome of languid allure. With casual grace, one arm lazily looped around her sister's shoulders while the other traced idle patterns on the armrest.

The two teens sat there, their eyes carrying a glint of malevolence and the air around them intoxicating as it was deadly. But as their hungry, gleaming eyes picked and prodded at him, Jerome failed to suppress a gulp.

There were no normal teenagers.

"…and sometimes, the most inestimable lessons are the most laborious," one lounging one chuckled, tongue curling along her teeth as they elongated to fangs. She pouted up at her twin. "Shall we?"

Her seated twin grinned in response, the sclera of her eyes turning dark red. "Indeed we shall."

Mustering his nerve, Jerome threateningly wielded his blasters. "And just who are you tricks supposed to be?"

Razor-sharp, pink energy whipped up from underneath Jerome, slashing his clothes as they traveled up and swirled around the teenagers. Like fire, it scorched across their bodies, charbroiling their skins and singing their attire. Yet instead of agonized screams, they responded with taunting laughter, their red eyes glowing bright under the pink flame.

The energy fizzled away with a hiss, and their outfits became sharper and more devilish as charcoal chipped away to reveal crimson skin.

The relaxed maid stretched her legs before coming into a seductive stance. One hand framed her bosom whilst the other adjusted her now silvery bob of hair. "I am Lady Sasha."

The butler adjusted her tie before rolling down into a feral crouch, arms slashed across her chest as her nails extended to claws. "And I am her darling little sister, Lady Selina."

"And we," they chorused together, Sasha rolling across Selina's back, the two supporting one another, as their spade tipped tails tipped against the other, forming a heart-shaped circle. "are the Charming Servants of the Lower Circle."

"…never heard of ya, losers," Jerome spat, dismissive of their antics with a cocky smirk.

Internally, he was freaking the fluff out.

The Charming Servants of the Lower Circle, the loyal enforcers of the dreadful Mother Dearest and brewers of a strange tea for the Annoyingly Cute Triplets Who Lived Upon the Hill that kept them in line. Bounded by contract, Mother Dearest wielded the full might of the Servants to subdue children of the 19th Century. The horror stories passed down were the stuff of nightmares. Jerome's lips crinkled. He'd studied about these devils in the academy, being able to sleep easier reading that they apparently went down with everyone else the day of the Alamode.

But there had been campfire stories every Halloween…

…terrible stories of children disappearing over the decades, invited to random tea parties and to never be seen again…

Jerome had always thought they were myths. Stupid ghost stories told to cadets to keep them in line. He never once believed in them.

And now, he had no choice but to believe. For now he and the entire Moonbase was in a ghost story now.

But he couldn't be scared, not now! He was an awesome hero, like the ones from the bedtime stories his Mama told him every night, the ones that gave him hope to wake up the following day. It was his job to stop these demons, to keep the hope alive.

It was his job to make sure this story had a happy ending!

"So, besides diggin' up costumes from the bargain bin," he tried to intimidate, "why are you jerks trashing up our Moonbase?"

Selina stomped her foot, eyes burning with rage. "HOW DARE YOU DISMISS OUR GRAND INTRODUCTION, YOU ASHEN LITTLE WORM!"

"Calm down, dear, you're positively red at the moment," Sasha commented, ruefully using her hand to fan her twin's temper. She then glowered down at Jerome, flexing her fingers to summon an obsidian tea cup. "And, why, we are here to organize a tea party, of course."

Taking a moment to calm down, Selina straightened her uniform before summoning a sugar bowl into her hands. With an evil smile, she produced a pure, radiant white sugar cube.

Sasha held out her cup expectantly, eyes locking with the insufferable brat below. "And the souls of you rebellious rascals makes for the most delectable sweetener."

Jerome's eyes widened, facade breaking.

Selina made a show of depositing the lump in Sasha's cup.

Jerome shot at the cup, a subway coin shattering it at the last second.

The sisters watched, disappointed as the sugar cube clattered harmlessly to the floor. "Now, look at the mess you've made.

Jerome's expression was fierce, body vibrating with rage. He knew the stories. He knew of the life that would be lost forever if they consumed that sugar. Something cold and icy stabbed at his heart as a thought occurred. It was Bring the Cadets to the Moonbase Day…

…how much had they consumed already?

With a voice as hard as steel, Jerome cranked his blasters up to their highest setting—the one forbidden setting that went way beyond 'ouch': "Drop. The sugar. NOW!"

"Oh?" Sasha mused. Unbothered by the tea scalding her arm, she pursed her lips cutely as it coiled around her wrist like a living snake. "I do believe someone was being deceitful when claiming not know of our renown, dear sister."

Selina pushed up the bridge of her glasses, a fang jutting out from her smirk. "It appears so. What a naughty little fibber we have on our hands, beloved sister."

"If you don't shut your mouths, I'ma come up and shut 'em for you, punks!"

Selina mockingly gasped. "Did that little ruffian just lay a threat upon us?"

"I think he might be a hoodlum," Sasha scathingly whispered to her sister. Her lips curled into a smirk. "And my dear boy, I do believe you're getting ahead of yourself. Us? Dirty our hands with you? Ha! That's what the help is for."

He was confused, but didn't have time to dwell on it. The whizzing through the air was his only warning, and he ducked back just in time to avoid a fatal blow. Something sawed above him, taking off a tuft of his hair. He rolled away, and his counter-attack faltered as he recognized the weapon that struck him.

Spinning mid-air was a shield refashioned from a stop-sign. A thin, yo-yo string jerked it back, the weapon returning to its wielder. Jerome stood, shock and dread coating his features as he recognized the figure.

Across from him was a girl, clad in a bright, yellow leopard spotted hoodie and a Global Command colander adorned atop her head. Knee-pads were fastened around her violet skate-pants. Her hand robotically rose, expertly catching the stop-sign shield. The soft breeze fluttered her short, raven hair.

Jerome stared into his dearest friend's eyes. Once vibrant and full of zeal, they were now dulled by the same spell that possessed the other children. "No…" he whispered.

---

Kids Next Door ROADSIGN Class Weapon: S.T.O.P.

Shield Trounces. Oppressive. Predators.

Designated Wielder: Soopreme Commander Numbuh Beyond.

---

Now under the sway of the Charming Servants, Numbuh Beyond, Supreme Leader of the Kids Next Door, slowly marched towards Jerome. Her fist clenched around the shield's grip, and after a firm flex, sharp serrated blades extended from the stop-signs pointed edges.

"S-Sir, get a grip!" Jerome yelped as he jumped back, the shield digging into the ground. As Beyond recalled it, he whipped up his blasters, finger trembling against the trigger. "Rebecca! It's me—Jerome!"

Rebecca caught the shield. She made to throw it again, but at Jerome's voice, she froze, eyes twitching.

"T-That's it! Ya gotta fight it!"

"Wait. First name basis? Awwwwww, that's so adorably scandalous," Sasha cooed, eyes watering as she cradled her cheeks. Her eyes darkened. "Kill him."

The struggled light faded from Rebecca's eyes as she pounced.

Jerome back-stepped as Rebecca plunged her shield into the deck, the slash kicking up sparks. He fumbled to adjust, shooting his blasters at her, though his aim lacked confidence. With a soldier's discipline, Rebecca charged head first, her shield raised and deflecting subway coins as she closed the distance.

With a grunt, she batted a blaster out of Jerome's left hand, the boy answering with a sloppy kick at her legs. Rebecca blocked with her shield, and Jerome hastily used it as a kickstand to hop over his commander.

"Please," he cried. Mid-air, he switched his blaster to its lowest setting, angling his shot and forcing himself to follow through and pull the trigger. "Snap out of it!"

The subway coins pelleted her. A pained gasp broke out as she went to her knee.

Jerome landed and aimed at her head. At her distress, he flinched, hesitating.

The moment cost him. Instantly recovering, Rebecca hopped up, flinging herself into a wild twirl before tossing her shield. Jerome yelped, weaving out of the way. He looked back to see the girl already on him, punching away his other blaster. With a snarl, Rebecca unleashed a flurry of an offensive, Jerome clumsily parrying and blocking her strikes as he was forced back.

Above, Selina and Sasha laughed as they watched the entertainment play out. Selina smiled, crossing her arms. Sasha draped herself across the throne again, snapping her fingers to summon a brainwashed cadet. The small boy waddled up beside her, feeding the demon grapes while Sasha merely kicked her legs like a giddy schoolgirl.

"Rebecca," Jerome continued to plead. Her face was a blank yet furious scowl as she wailed at him. But in her addled state, she wasn't acting normal. Every other second, he would see it: a rushed jab, a weak kick. While not in her right mind, he could see a hundred and one openings he could exploit, finishing this quick and easy.

Yet he couldn't bring himself to.

"I-I don't want to fight you!" he screamed. He caught her hand, holding her steady as she tried to break through. "Never you!"

The light in her eyes flickered again, and Rebecca's brow twitched as her grip slacked.

Selina frowned, snapping her fingers again.

And once again, the spell took root as Rebecca headbutted Jerome, her helmet breaking his sunglasses. He stumbled back, dazed. The girl jerked her fist back, the string around her wrist going taut. The STOP sign made a return trip, the blades cutting through Jerome's jumpsuit and slashing at his hip.

He screamed, his pants slowly staining red. A foot collided into his chest, knocking the wind out of him and forcing him to the ground. On instinct, his hands snapped up, clenching the rim of the sign right as it went for his neck.

"R-Rebecca…" he said through clenched teeth. The pain at his hip sapped away his strength, hand barely keeping the sign at bay. "Y-You…g-gotta stop…"

"Ugh, will you just hurry up and die already," the twins bemoaned. They clapped their hands, and a row of cadets leaped up the stairs, using their bodies as cushions as the sisters strolled down. "Your precious Supreme Leader is wrapped around our little finger now. She can't hear you."

Jerome growled as the blades tickled his neck.

"And once we've quashed this meddlesome uprising, she'll be our perfect little puppet; commanding the unsuspecting brats across the world to drink our delicious tea," Selina regaled, eyes alight with sinful mirth. "With all your operatives under our control, we shall be unstoppable."

Rebecca neutrally gazed at Jerome as she pressed down harder.

"We'll have so much sugar. We shall never want for anything ever again," Sasha cackled as she and her sister flanked the two children. They leaned down, grinning as they watched every bit of willpower ooze out of Jerome's wounds. "All those souls…soon, all children will be our obedient little slaves. I'm salivating at the idea of it. Truly, I'm drooling."

Jerome ignored them, his face centered only on the girl above him. "Rebecca…"

Something flashed in her eyes, the sign easing as she locked eyes with the boys. "…J-Jerome…"

"Oh, for the love of," Sasha growled as she impatiently gave Rebecca a harsh kick. The girl was knocked away, unmoving against the floor. Before Jerome could respond, Sasha buried her heel into his bleeding hip.

Selina raised a brow as she regarded the crumpled Supreme Leader. She then looked down, watching as the boy writhed while a sugary revolver coalesced formed in her sister's hand. She smirked. "So hard to find good help these days."

"These louts barely lift a finger. It's a travesty," Sasha groaned. The spilled tea coiled into the barrel of the sugar revolver, forming a boiling bullet. With a roll of her eyes, she muttered. "Honestly, must I do everything myself?"

"Y-You freaks won't win!" Jerome stuttered, life flashing before his eyes as Sasha's thumb pulled back the hammer. He gulped, eyes wild for some way out of this. He was only ten—he wasn't supposed to go out like this! "My…my back-up will be here any second! Y-Yeah! So you better turn tail while you still can!"

"You shouldn't bluff dear, it's most unbecoming," Selina mused. Once she saw Sasha finishing loading her revolver with tea, she reached down with her claws to force open Jerome's mouth. "Now, open wide."

"Who says he's bluffing?"

The twins looked up just in time to see a grizzly bear cub flying towards them. Sasha screeched as it tackled her to the ground, face roughly nuzzling into hers as its arms delivered a bone-crushing hug. Selina's jaw dropped, dumbfounded by the spectacle. "…what the—"

"SELINA, GET THIS DAMN THING OFF OF ME!"

Selina scrambled to summon her sugar scythe then rushed to assist her sister, leaving Jerome forgotten.

The boy hissed through his teeth, eyes clenched shut as pain seared up from his slashed hip.

"Easy there, kid. We got ya."

The lights overheard were obscured by five faces, one leaning in close as they started administering first aid. A girl's voice filtered through, anchoring him. "Stay with me now. Designation?"

"Uh, N-Numbuh Nine-Nine?"

The girl hummed thoughtfully as she applied gauze. "Sector NYC right? Good pizza there."

A taller brunette adjusted his beret and chuckled. "More of a deep dish kid myself, boss."

"'EY!" Jerome jerked up, pain forgotten as rage simmered forth from his heart. "Deep dish is NOT pizza! It's an above-ground marinara swimming pool for rats."

"Oh uh," a pig-tailed girl snickered as she lowered her BEARHUGGAH rifle. "Looks like you got a food critic, Numbuh 0.2."

'Point Two' shrugged. "Tough crowd."

"W-Wait," Jerome spluttered, recognizing that codenumbuh. The haze lifted and he looked up at the four veterans and then to the dirt blond patching him up. His eyes filled with pure awe. "Holy Zero…it's you guys…"

"Nice work so far, kid," the girl idly praised. She rose her head, the Z emblem of her helmet sparkling as she winked. "But you sit tight. We'll take it from here."

"GET OFF!" Sasha hollered to high heaven as Selina pried off the cub. She scared it away with a flick of her scythe, then was nearly trampled by her sister as Sasha's temper got the best of her. "Who DARES to make a mockery of ME!?"

"We dare."

They looked up to see five children waltzing up wearing scruffy jackets and bright sashes. "And who the devil are you?"

"You fiends forget us already?" snarked an African-American boy, pounding crackling boxing gloves together. "Aw, that hurts our feelings."

"…ah, that's right. You were the urchins we trapped in our sugar cane maze," Sasha mumbled. Her eyes rose in thought, finger idly tapping her chin. "What was it? Sector…V?"

A blond boy shifted his stance, twirling his carrot nunchucks. "That's Sector Z, ya no good teenagers."

Selina growled. "So much for entrusting our Brat in the Hat to dispose of you. Do tell, did you leave him alive? If so, we must amend that mistake once we finish with you."

A girl with dirty blond hair stepped forth, brandishing an umbrella saber. "Oh, we dealt with him, alright. Now, we're ready to deal with you. Once, and for all."

Sasha tilted forth, hands covering her derisive laugh. "That's precious. The deviants think they stand a chance. Tell me, dears, what makes you think this time will be any different?"

The girl in charge smirked, reaching behind her back to show off an ancient, jade tea kettle.

Jerome watched the twin's faces become stricken with unadulterated fear.

"W-Where…how…" Sasha mumbled. The crimson skin of her face darkened with frenzied fury. "HAND THAT OVER THIS INSTANT!"

"You want it?" the girl taunted, chucking the kettle up and down. "Come get it."

With a demonic screech, the Charming Servants charged.

"Looks like they took the bait," the tall boy observed. He flashed the girl a trusting smile. "Orders, boss?"

"Kids Next Door?" Alessandra asked as she looked at her team.

Bruce's carrot nunchucks whirred through the air with a menacing hum as he stepped forward, taking his place beside Alessandra.

Lenny's gadgets buzzed to life, electricity crackling around his boxing gloves.

David's eraser-tipped billiard cue was held at the ready, and Constance hefted her heavy weapon, the cinder-block launcher gleaming ominously.

Alessandra' griped around her umbrella tightened with a smirk. "Battle Stations."

This was gonna be delightful.

"Let's see how charming you are when you're picking carrot outta your teeth!" Bruce taunted as he lunged at Sasha, his nunchucks spinning rapidly. Sasha fired her sugar revolvers, scalding tea bullets hissing through the air. Bruce twirled his nunchucks, deflecting the bullets with deft precision, each one sizzling into harmless steam upon contact. He closed the distance, his nunchucks a blur of motion as he struck out, forcing Sasha to dodge and weave.

David was already in motion, his billiard cue swinging in broad, precise arcs. He intercepted Selina's sugar scythe, the plasma eraser tip causing the scythe's blades to dissolve on contact. Selina snarled, her eyes blazing as she attacked with renewed fury, but David parried each strike with the practiced grace of a seasoned fighter.

The tall boy hopped back, and Alessandra moved up with lethal elegance. Her umbrella rapier flashed as she darted between Sasha and Selina. She found an opening and lunged, her rapier piercing through the air with deadly accuracy. Sasha barely managed to block, her revolver shattered by the force of Alessandra's strike.

Selina tried to retaliate, but Alessandra twirled away, her movements fluid and effortless. Before she could pursue, Bruce jumped in her way.

The blond grinned up at the girl, poised and ready to strike. "Let's dance, ya old sun burnt hag!"

Selina screeched, reforming her scythe to slash wildly. "I'LL TEAR YOUR THROAT OUT YOU HOOLIGAN!"

Lenny, with his electrified boxing gloves, danced around the battlefield. He harmlessly zapped any of the brainwashed cadets that got too close, the electricity snapping them out of their trance. He flanked Selina, delivering a powerful uppercut that sent her sprawling.

Ever the team powerhouse, Constance aimed her cinderblock launcher and fired. The heavy projectile soared through the air, aimed directly at Sasha. The demon tried to dodge, but the cinderblock clipped her clipped, sending her crashing to the ground.

On her hands and knees, she growled, shrugging off the daze. Something splashing against the ground gave her pause. A dark blue liquid was dripped down, down from her face. She squeaked a horrified gasp as she pulled out a compact mirror to inspect where the cinder block grazed. And there it was. A tiny scratch spilled blood.

Her blood.

Sasha's world turned red as Constance laughed at her.

Consumed with rage, she threw down her last revolver, it shattering and unleashing the tea stored in the chamber. She called it to her hands, the liquid bruning her palms as she wielded them as living whips. "I am going to strangle you, you miserable heathen. I'll make your friends watch as I wring the life from your tiny neck!"

Constance responded with a raspberry, then advanced, her cooking utensils flashing in her hands as she engaged the demon teen.

Jerome, still recovering, watched in awe as his fellow operatives systematically dismantled the Charming Servants' defenses. He knew he had to get back in the fight.

He had to show Sector Z how cool he could be! Summoning all his strength, he pushed himself up, grabbing a discarded blaster.

Trying to intervene once more, he aimed his blaster at Sasha, but the shot went wide, barely grazing her. She smirked, eyes gleaming with malice, as she turned her attention fully to him.

"Pathetic," Sasha sneered, her hand crackling with dark energy. In a poof, she and Selina disappeared. Jerome blinked, then saw two shadows pop up from behind. He turned to see the sisters looming. "Time to end this little game."

As Sasha raised her hand, preparing to unleash a devastating blow, Jerome braced himself…

…but before she could strike—

"NOW!"

—another cinder block crashed between them, causing an explosion of dust and debris.

"FIVE!" Constance roared as she landed with a ground-shaking impact. Her cooking utensils flashed, deflecting Sasha's attack and creating an opening.

"FOUR!" Lenny shouted, charging in with his electrified boxing gloves. He delivered a series of rapid punches to Selina, the electricity surging through her and disrupting her focus.

"THREE!" Alessandra called out, her umbrella rapier glowing as she executed a series of elegant, yet deadly strikes. She weaved between the sisters, disarming them with precision and pushing them back.

"TWO!" David bellowed, his billiard cue spinning in a blur. He knocked the twins off balance, sending them tumbling towards Bruce.

"ONE!" Bruce yelled, his carrot nunchucks twirling with blinding speed. He delivered a powerful, spinning kick, followed by a double strike with his nunchucks, sending the Charming Servants crashing to the ground next to the fallen Numbuh Beyond.

The battlefield fell silent for a moment, the echoes of the final blows still reverberating through the Moonbase.

But the results were undeniable. The Charming Servants lay prone, their weapons shattered, and their power broken.

Jerome, still dazed but now filled with relief and admiration, looked up as Sector Z approached him. Alessandra offered him a hand, pulling him to his feet. "Nice try, kid," she said with a reassuring smile. "But leave the heavy lifting to the pros."

Jerome grinned, clutching his wounded side. "You guys...you're so cool!"

Bruce chuckled, spinning his nunchucks one last time before holstering them. "Just doing our job."

Lenny clapped Jerome on the back, careful to avoid his injury. "You held your own pretty well. Not bad for a kid from Sector NYC."

"I wouldn't celebrate just yet, darlings."

The six children turned to the twins and then froze. Sasha held Rebecca aloft by the hood of her sweater, and Selina grinned wide as she had the blade of her scythe to the girl's neck.

"A formidable effort, I must admit," Sasha said between ragged breaths. "But I've met my quota for nonsense this year. Hand over the kettle, or we behead your precious Supreme Leader."

"NO!" Jerome screamed, held back by Lenny as he tried to rush forward. "L-Leave her alone! Y-You need her for your plans, right? Y-You can't."

"I've had quite enough of you children thinking you can tell me what I can and cannot do," Sasha hissed, a deranged look befalling her as she pressed Rebecca against the blade. I WILL NOT ASK AGAIN!"

Jerome trembled, eyes only on Rebecca in the Servant's clutches. Right before despair took root, he saw Alessandra look up to David. They shared a nod, and with kettle in hand, they made a careful stride toward to sister.

"Don't worry, kid," Bruce whispered soothingly to Jerome. "Our bosses will handle this."

Jerome huddled with Bruce, Lenny, and Constance and forced himself to wait.

Sasha and Selina watched as Alessandra and David walked up toward them. As they got closer, Selina snarled, a warning as her scythe glinted in the light.

"As leader of Sector Z," Alessandra began, tone heavy as she gripped the kettle. "I hereby declare that we…"

Jerome held his breath. This was it. They were gonna do something. They were gonna pull some awesome move out of left field, sucker punch those no-good demons, and save Rebecca, and they day in one, mega incredible swoop—

"Surrender."

Jerome nearly fell over in shock.

What!?

"It can see reason," Selina jeered as she took the kettle. She twirled her finger, a pleased as the two before her knelt down. "I do so love it when they obey the pecking order."

"Please, go easy on us," David said, head low as he bowed. "We were stupid to think we stood a chance."

"Oh! Now they're groveling. They do know how to butter a girl up," Sasha laughed, hands going to her hips as her tailed coiled around Rebecca. She looked back with a cheeky smirk. A little insurance never hurt. She then looked back to the children, mind a blaze with a myriad of possibilities."Hmm, maybe a bit of leniency is in order, dear sister. They are children. The whelps don't know any better."

"I might be convinced, beloved sister," Selina hummed deviously. "But swearing a bit of fealty never hurt."

"…don't do it…" Rebecca weakly managed, the spell's hold weakening as she noted Alessandra and David before these monster. They were about to throw it all away. All for her. A single tear slipped from her lifeless eyes. "Not…worth it…"

"It is," Alessandra whispered back. She and David shared a quick glance before she tilted her chin up. A hand slipped behind her back. "Sector Z swears our undying loyalty. Cross our hearts and hope to die."

Jerome gagged.

"And to show that we mean it," David said, "Let us, the commanders of sector Z, pour you both a cup of tea—straight from the kettle."

"Finally. Now you're speaking my language," Sasha moaned. She clapped her hands, and the few still conscious, brainwashed cadets quickly brought up a foldable table. Once it was set, she took the jade kettle, passing it expectantly towards David. "Quashing your spirits works up quite the thirst. Chop, chop."

Slowly, David poured a cup for Sasha. Alessandra followed his example for Selina.

Mewling like content, fat cats, the sisters held the warm cups with a lofty air. Before they could partake, they couldn't help but notice the children's awkward expressions. Ugh. They knew that face. "What is it?"

"Nothing," Alessandra mumbled, through her tone said it was anything but. "It's just…may we make one final request? Y'know…before you completely enslave us and all?"

The twins considered it. After a bit of deliberation, "And this request is…?"

"We've never really had tea before," David confessed. With trembling lips, he asked, "Could you…could you pour us some? It would be such an honor to be served by the totally cool Lady Sasha and Lady Selina."

The demons grimaced. "We don't really…do that anymore. Defeats the whole purpose of making you dears serve us, you see…"

Alessandra and David sculpted their faces into picture-perfect pouts, their voices in adorable sync as they pleaded, "Pretty please with cherries on top?"

"Oh, alright, alright. I could never say no to such pathetic faces," Sasha caved. With a quick adjustment of her hair, she looked knowingly at her twin. "Shall we, Selina?"

"I suppose we shall, Sasha." The air around them shifted as Sasha and Selina moved in unison, their motions smooth and practiced like a well-rehearsed dance. Sasha took the jade kettle from David, her delicate fingers wrapping around the handle with a grace that belied her sinister nature. She raised the kettle high, tilting it just so, allowing the tea to flow in a thin, controlled stream into the waiting cup.

Selina mirrored her sister's actions with a similar elegance. Her eyes, glowing with a predatory gleam, never left the cup as the liquid swirled and filled it, steam rising in soft, ethereal tendrils. They moved with synchronized precision, their every gesture a testament to their mastery over this simple, yet profound, ritual.

The cups they poured into were dainty and ornate, the porcelain clinking lightly as the tea settled. Sasha's cup brimmed with rich, amber liquid, reflecting the dim light in a way that made it seem almost magical. Selina's cup was much the same, the tea within shimmering as if holding a life of its own.

The sisters' eyes met briefly, a silent communication passing between them. With a fluid motion, they brought the cups to their lips, inhaling the fragrant aroma with a deep, satisfied breath. Resisting the temptation, they set them in front of the two children.

"My, does that take me back," Sasha mused as she finished their curtsy. She flashed a look of pride Selina's way. "Watching you pour, Selina…like seeing a true artisan at work!"

"You flatter me, Sasha," Selina preened under the praise. Her face returned to its neutral scowl. "There. We haven't served anyone since the days of Mother Dearest. You should be awed."

"We are," Alessandra smiled, standing tall. "I purpose a toast!"

"Oh, come on!" Jerome cried, not having the stomach for this anymore. "Why don't ya offer to shine their shoes while you're at it!"

Lenny sternly shushed Jerome. "Show some respect."

"Respect!? They're demons. Teenagers! And thanks to you guys, they're gonna turn us all into prissy, pinky-raisin' tea sippers!"

"You'd best heed the advice of your peer, worm," Sasha warned. Her and Selina glared at Jerome's outburst, focused on giving him one last verbal lashing and ignorant to the shuffling behind them. "Serving us is the highest honor. But if you prefer otherwise, I'm sure we can devise a far crueler fate for an oaf like you."

"Time and place, Sasha. We shall deal with him shortly," Selina said. They turned back to Alessandra and David. All four took their cups, clinked them together, and the sisters took hearty sips before saying, "A toast! To our most prosperous future."

"Yes, a toast." Alessandra and David shared a snicker as they took their cups and emptied the tea onto the floor. "To the awesome bash we're gonna have celebrating how badly you just got your butts kicked."

Their crass display caused Sasha and Selina to gasp. The latter recovered first, a growl bubbling from the back of her throat. "Excuse me?"

"Actually, I'm afraid I can't excuse you," Alessandra clipped, voice all haughty as she reached into her pocket. "Especially since you jerks are in breach of contract!"

"I'LL SHOW YOU A…breach of contract?" Selina meekly parroted. "What contract?"

Barely holding in her laughter, Alessandra whipped out a long, winding red velvet parchment. "Your contract!"

Recognizing the infernal document, Sasha and Selina shared a scandalous scream. "T-T-That's impossible! We kept it under lock and key! Entrusted with our most loyal Brat in the…" Sasha's pupils shrunk, remembering Alessandra's earlier words.

…Selina growled. "So much for entrusting our Brat in the Hat to dispose of you. Do tell, did you leave him alive? If so, we must amend that mistake once we finish with you."

Alessandra stepped forth, brandishing an umbrella rapier. "Oh, we dealt with him, alright. Now, we're ready to deal with you. Once, and for all."

Sasha inhaled sharply through her nostrils. "Why that duplicitous little turncoat!"

David smiled. "Not our fault you're horrible bosses. Shoulda stuck with Servant shtick."

"Enough!" Selina barked. "Explain this so-called 'breach of contract.' We've done nothing of the sort!"

Alessandra dramatically unfurled the parchment, allowing it to extend and roll across the floor with an exaggerated flourish. She cleared her throat, adopting a mock-serious expression as she began to read. "Ahem. Section 7, Subsection 12, Paragraph 3: 'The Charming Servants of the Lower Circle, while free of the kettle's confines, must under no circumstances engage in the act of self-service.'"

Sasha and Selina exchanged puzzled looks. "Self-service?"

"Correct!" Alessandra continued, her tone dripping with over-the-top legalese. "This includes but is not limited to: watering their own plants, preparing their own meals, reading their own mail, making their own beds, and—most critically—drinking tea that they themselves have poured."

"Ridiculous!" Sasha scoffed, waving her hand dismissively. "We've done no such thing!"

David's grin widened as he held up two cups. "Oh, but you have. See, while you were busy berating Numbuh Nine-Nine, I used a bit of sleight of hand." He switched the cups between his hands with a deft flick of his wrists. "Always did have slippery fingers."

The realization dawned on the sisters, their expressions shifting from confusion to horror. "No! That can't be!"

"Oh, but it is!" Alessandra crowed, barely holding back her laughter. "You see, the moment you poured and drank your own tea, you violated the terms of your contract. And now…"

The jade kettle began to shake violently on the table, emitting an ominous hum. The sisters turned to it, their eyes wide with fear. "No, no, no!" they shrieked in unison, scrambling to get away.

But it was too late. A powerful vortex formed above the kettle, pulling at Sasha and Selina with an irresistible force. Acting quickly, David sprang back as Alessandra dove forward. She encircled Rebecca, reaching back to catch the silly-string lasso David threw her way. "Now!"

"Everybody pull!" David commanded as he regrouped with the rest of his team. All at once, Sector Z gave a mighty tug.

Alessandra smiled as they reeled her in. Suddenly, something cracked against the wrist holding Rebecca. Her faced paled as Selina, in one last gambit, used her tail to pull the Supreme Leader into the void along with her. "NO!"

"REBECCA!" Jerome screamed. Time seemed to slow as he looked down to his right, Rebecca's STOP ROADSIGN dragging across the floor.

Without thinking, he jumped towards it, grabbing it as he let pull of the kettle's vortex carry him. The boy soared, notching his sneakers against the shield. As he passed Alessandra, he pushed the sleeve of his jersey into her hand, the girl nodding and holding on. As he sailed towards Rebecca, the his shirt scretched to ungodly portions. Risking it all, Jerome reached for Rebecca and braced his feet.

Selina looked up, and the last thing she saw before being sucked into cold nothingness was the face of the STOP sign. Jerome grabbed Rebecca, and Alessandra jerked them both back as Selina and the STOP sign were sealed away.

"Guh," Alessandra groaned as they landed a safe distance away. She looked to see Jerome, face lighting up as she noted Rebecca safe in his grasp. "Not bad, kid! You New York natives got spunk. I like it!"

"Um, between you me?" Jerome began to quiet admit. Everything caught up to him at once, and he felt the need to confess. "I'm…actually from New Jersey. We moved to NYC when I was five…"

Alessandra adopted a severe expression. "I won't tell a soul."

With Selina fully succumbed to the vortex, Sasha desperately clawed at the ground, her nails bleeding as she was dragged inch by inch. She looked up to see sector Z and Jerome celebrating, gathering around their Supreme Leader. Rage boiled inside her.

She, a demon who went unopposed for centuries, was felled by these children.

She was felled by some Supreme Leader who resisted their power.

She was felled by some stupid hoodlum desperate to play the hero.

And she was felled by five self-righteous little BRATS.

Her hatred for these miserable urchins broiled something dark in her soul. With all the scorn she could muster, she screamed.

"You think you've won, haven't you?" she spat, venom dripping from her words. "A curse upon you, Kids Next Door! Every last one!" She glared centered on Rebecca. "That wretched girl, may she and all whom take her mantle suffer under the weight of the crown. May it crush them, turning their every victory into unbearable pain!"

Her eyes locked onto Jerome. "And you, boy! May your wide-eyed idealism fail you. When your hubris meets you with an impossible choice, may you falter and lose everything you hold dear!"

Finally, she turned her seething gaze to Sector Z, the ones she hated most of all. "And as for you, Sector Z," she hissed, "your disobedience will be your downfall. I hope you accept a price you cannot pay. I hope you endure an eternal purgatory so terrible it HAUNTS YOUR EVERY WAKING MOMENT FOR THE REST OF DAYS!"

"Wow, that sure is a lot of lame-o words," Bruce taunted. He looked to Alessandra. "How should we respond, boss?

"I believe the apt rebuttal is, nanny nanny boo boo," she then pulled down her eye lid and stuck out her tongue. Her team mimicked her, and all at once, they shouted, "STICK YOUR HEAD IN DOO-DOO!"

The vortex's pull grew stronger, and just before she was fully sucked in, Sector Z collectively blew her a defiant raspberry.

"When the last of you succumbs, it shall end. When the last of you fail to believe, the hope will die!" Sasha's eyes burned with fury. "This isn't over! We will return and have our revenge. Even if it takes us goddamn years, we'll find you!"

Her nails broke as the vacuum inhaled her.

"WE WILL FIND YOU, SECTOR Z!"

With that final declaration, the vortex consumed her, sealing her away in the jade kettle.

And just like that, the Charming Servant were no more. Their obsidian sugar container rattled, the cubes inside glowing. One by one, a golden light zipped from its confines, flying around the Global Command center like a swarm of fireflies.

Slowly, one light drizzled down, implanting itself into the chest of a cadet.

"Oh, my tummy," he groaned as he stood. He blinked, then began laughing with relief. "Holy crud…I-I don't wanna drink tea anymore. I'M CURED!" He broke down crying. "I CAN FINALLY GO BACK TO DRINKING SODA!"

All around the Moonbase, souls, and life were brought back to the turned operatives and cadets. Cheers and hearty laughter filtered over the intercoms. At long last, the once silent base was vibrant with the screaming of children—as it should be.

Jerome watched, amazed as the light show slowly fizzled out. Soon, only one light was left, the light from the sugar cube Sasha had almost consumed earlier. It rose from the ground, zipping back to the girl in his arms.

Rebecca's eyes snapped open. She looked around, bewildered. Once she locked eyes with the boy above her, nothing else mattered. "Jerome!" The boy yelped, falling victim to another tackle, albeit a softer one. Rebecca threw her arms around Jerome, hugging him tightly. "Jerome, you're okay! I was so worried!"

Jerome, still reeling from the sudden tackle, managed to laugh. "Rebecca! You're back!" He returned her hug, a blush creeping up his cheeks.

Rebecca pulled back slightly, just enough to look into his eyes. "You dummy, I almost ripped you to pieces" she said softly, her voice filled with genuine relief.

"But ya didn't," Jerome's blush deepened, and he scratched the back of his head. "I couldn't let anything happen to you, Rebecca."

The tender moment was suddenly interrupted by the unmistakable sound of a teasing, "Oooooooooooh!" which Sector Z chimed in unison, grinning mischievously.

Both Rebecca and Jerome scrambled to their feet, their faces a matching shade of red. They quickly snapped to attention, trying to regain their composure.

"As Supreme Leader," Rebecca began, her tone as professional as she could muster, "I want to thank you, Numbuh Nine-Nine, for your bravery and for assisting in saving our butts today."

Jerome straightened up, saluting with exaggerated zeal. "It was an honor, Supreme Leader, sir! Just doin' my duty!"

As the adrenaline began to wear off, Jerome winced, the pain from his injuries flaring up. Rebecca's eyes widened in concern. "Medics!" she called out, her voice firm but worried.

Almost immediately, a team of medics appeared, lifting a surprised and fussy Jerome onto a stretcher. "I'm fine, really!" he protested weakly as they carried him away.

Rebecca watched the medics carry Jerome away, her heart still fluttering. She then turned to Sector Z, who were standing nearby with smug grins.

"Well, well," Lenny began with a teasing lilt. "Looks like someone has a cru—"

Before he could finish, Rebecca lunged at them, wrapping them in a fierce hug. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice filled with gratitude. "Thank you for saving me, guys."

Sector Z, initially surprised by the sudden embrace, quickly melted into it. They returned the hug, their usual tough exteriors softening.

Alessandra smiled warmly. "You know we'd do anything for you, Rebecca. We've got your back, always."

Rebecca's eyes glistened with tears, but she blinked them away, wanting to savor this moment. Sector Z was more than just a team to her—they were family.

They had always operated independently, often seen as rebels or misfits, even within the organization. But Rebecca had always supported them, believed in their potential, and supported their unique approach to fighting adult tyranny.

For Alessandra, Lenny, Constance, Bruce, and David, Rebecca was their anchor. She was the one who had given them a home and stood by them when others doubted.

And they loved her dearly for it.

In this moment, as they held her close, Alessandra's mind wandered to the battle they had just fought. If it had come down to it, she knew without a doubt that she would have thrown everything she had at the demons to protect Rebecca. Her team's full, unquestionable support would have been behind that decision.

Losing Rebecca was not an option.

"Rebecca," Alessandra said softly, pulling back just enough to look her in the eyes. "We'll always be here for you."

Rebecca smiled, a tear finally escaping down her cheek. "And I'll always be here for you. I love you guys!"

"Alright, alright, enough with the mushy crud," David said, cheekily rolling his eyes. "Let's get this place cleaned up and make sure everyone is okay."

As the chaos settled and cadets began to awaken, Sector Z and Rebecca swiftly moved to assist those in need. David spotted a younger-looking cadet, who looked disoriented and shaken from the ordeal. Approaching cautiously, David offered a reassuring smile.

"Hey, bud, it's okay," David said gently, trying to calm the trembling boy.

But Steve's eyes widened in terror as he caught sight of David's face, focusing on the faint beginnings of a pimple.

"TEENAGER!" Steve shrieked, his voice cracking with fear.

The other cadets nearby froze, their eyes widening in alarm. The atmosphere tensed instantly as whispers of "teenager" spread among them.

Sector Z exchanged uneasy glances.

Rebecca hurried over, trying to defuse the situation. "Everyone, calm down—"

"TEENAGER!"

Before the tension could settle, Numbuh 34th Street burst into the scene with the DOH-DOH squad, his demeanor frantic and suspicious. As his gaze settled on David, his voice lowered the a growl. "A teenager on the Moonbase? How convenient!" he exclaimed, eyeing David with suspicion. "We never did figure out how those demons got in here…"

David frowned. "You tryin' to say something, kid?"

Thirty-Fourth Street scoffed. "Oh, I can say plenty, wise guy. Like, say, ain't it weird how you show up right as it all goes down? Say, ain't strange how you just so happened to be acquainted with those jerks beforehand? Say, ain't it funny how you're six months shy of thirteen? Tryin' to get in good with your new pals and get an early start on betrayin' us?"

Constance, fiercely protective of her friend, stepped forward defiantly. "David has been with us the whole time, fighting to save your ungrateful butt!" she retorted, her voice rising in defense.

"Yeah!" Bruce chimed in, crossing his arms. "Don't start accusing him just because you showed up right after everything went down."

Rebecca's patience wore thin. She stepped forward, her voice cutting through the rising tension. "Enough, Numbuh 34th Street. If it weren't for Numbuh 0.2 and Sector Z, we'd all be dead meat," she declared, her tone commanding authority. "Apologize."

"B-But sir—"

"Now."

Realizing his misstep, 34th Street reluctantly nodded. "Fine," he muttered begrudgingly. "I'm sorry."

"You better be, because you're on super stinky latrine duty until Thanksgiving," Rebecca sternly said. She silenced his protests with a wave of her hand. "Dismissed, Numbuh 34th Street."

"Can't believe this," the boy grumbled as he stomped away. "Risk my butt to mount a rescue, and this is thanks I get? Jerome was right, shoulda just stayed back in Sector NYC…"

After he left, Rebecca snapped a warning look at the DOH-DOH Squad. They took the hint, quickly saluting before making themselves busy with clean-up. With things calm again, she sighed and turned to face her friends.

"I'm sorry about Numbuh 34th Street. He's been itching for a chance to prove himself and get promoted to the DOH-DOH Squad and Head of Decommissioning," she tried to explain. She frowned. "Which is never gonna happen, by the way."

Alessandra wryly smirked. "Sounds like you got your hands full as always."

"Tell me about it," she groaned. Noting their subdued expression, she bit her lip. "You guys okay?"

"Huh? Oh, sure we are!" Lenny answered nervously. "Certainly not thinking about a fellow's comrade impending decommissioning or anything. Whatever gave you that idea, sir?"

The other four shared an in-sync face palm. However, the damage was done. The reminder of David's impending thirteenth birthday hung heavy in the air, casting a shadow over Sector Z and tainting their triumphant moment.

Rebecca gave them her full attention, her voice steady with reassurance. "David, don't worry. We'll figure this out. I'm going to figure this out. I know about your…situation We've faced tough challenges before, and we've always come through together."

David managed a weak smile, grateful for Rebecca's support. "Thanks, Rebecca. I know I can count on Sector Z."

"And you can count on me too. It's my job to save kids. All of them, no matter how old they get," Numbuh Beyond said, somehow gripping them all in another impossibly tight hug. She leaned away, taking all their hands at once. "I promise I'll find a way to save you too."

"…I'll hold you to that, sir," David said, gratitude coating his tone. He then laughed, waving her off. "Now go check on your little 'boyfriend.' We'll finish rounding up the squirts."

"He's not my boyfriend!" Rebecca bristled. With puffed cheeks, she turned on her heels and stomped away. Sector Z couldn't help but notice her veer in the direction of the med-bay.

Alessandra smiled. As she looked up to David, it faltered a bit.

Noticing this, he tried to assure her. "Hey, I'm… we'll be fine."

Constance ringed her beret in her hands. "But…she hasn't given us any updates…"

"Guys! Hello! She was just possessed by demons, for crying out loud!" David felt the need to point out. "Everything's gonna work out, you'll see."

"Numbuh 0.2 is right," Alessandra spoke up. "We just gotta have faith. Now, since we're on the Moonbase, how about we shake down Numbuh Double-Oh-Scoop for ice cream? I think we deserve a little kickback for saving the day."

The four kids perked up. "With extra jimmies?"

Alessandra flashed a toothy grin. "Extra extra jimmies!"

All at once, Sector Z took off, tripping over one another in excitement, temporarily alleviating their woes and worries about David's birthday.

Unbeknownst to everyone, however, was a tiny, robotic fly that took a keen interest in the five retreating children.

Down on Earth, in the privacy of an empty extravagant manor, the faces of Sector Z filled the large television screen. A lone young adult sat in his recliner, eyes curiously watching the goings-on of the Moonbase.

He rose from his chair, eyes narrowing as he analyzed the five. Stuffing his hands in his pockets, he walked over to his nearby lab desk. He swept his hand over the desk, unfurling blueprints for a complicated-looking chamber.

He looked up at Sector Z once more.

He took a thoughtful puff of his pipe.

This big ol' manor he had just inherited (only because his older brother didn't want it, a nagging voice intrusively reminded him) was a tad on the lonely side…

"In the business, I think this is what we would call…an opportunity."

…end transmission?

---

We won't,

Back down.

There is a story some kids tell.

Most know the story of a boy, a book, and a tree.

Some even know the story of betrayal, heartbreak, and the unpossible choice that was made right at the very end.

But this story? This a story many don't know. A story that needs to be told before one must make another unpossible choice.

This story began many, many years ago. Some thought it was over, that it had ended in tragedy.

But that was only half of the story.

The other half is one that most bitter adults don't have light to see.

The other half of the story is when we have to remember to believe despite all the struggles.

The other half of this story picks up many, many years later when five certain children are born right after the other.

The other half of the story picks up when Genki Sanban remembers to open her eyes…

"It's a girl!"

The light is very bright to her—blindly bright. It reminds her of the sun from her youth that filtered through the cherry blossoms that bloomed at the end of March. March reminds her of Hinamatsuri and dolls. She remembers dolls the most. She remembers the parties, the wishes and prayers for good health, and yummy ichigo daifuku, of course.

But she remembers the dolls most of all—dolls she painstakingly placed among platforms every year. She remembered all the tender love and care she took into making those dolls out of paper and straw and sending them down the river. She remembers people saying the dolls would carry all her impurities—all the bad things and feelings that came with them away. She loved the dolls for that. The dolls were the only friends she could confide in.

"You're ten years old. Too old for silly little dollies. Grow up and focus!"

When she became older, her mother had no tolerance for dolls or for most things. She only tolerated perfection, and that was what was expected of her. She had to listen. Adults were right, after all.

"I-I'll show them," a small little voice that sounded like her cried. Cried under that cherry blossom tree that made her feel warm and safe. "W-When I become a Mommy, m-my little girl will have all the dolls she wants! N-Not just her. All girls will! Little and big! Y-You'll see…"

And maybe it was the laughing gas—oh, it had to be the laughing gas—but for some reason…she remembers that cherry blossom tree being bigger. She remembers sailing through the clouds, the adrenaline of fighting origami dragons, bedtime Yōkai, and other silly things kids dream up when they pretend.

But right now, it doesn't feel like pretend. It feels real. Real as the other faces with her under the cherry blossom tree. Other girls came together to stand against the expectations of adults. The expectations of evil adults.

It felt as real as the promise she made before her thirteenth birthday—the promise not to repeat her mother's failures, the promise that no matter how old she got, she would always believe and be better.

"I promise to be better..." a voice (remember!) says

"And here's mommy!"

The nurse's voice is soft as she passes a bundle into her arms. She looks down and her mouth is agape with awe. She looks up to a smiling man (her husband, a voice softly reminds her) and is amazed. The two of them, two cynics (yes, you're a fussy, stuffy cynic, traitor-pants, a voice harshly scolds her) who were arranged to be married (but you believe in love. You do, you do, you do, a voice desperately pleaded with her) came together to create something so wonderful.

It was March. The third day of March. Hinamatsuri.

She gasped. She made a dollie!

(Wha-no! Not a dollie, dummy. A baby!)

Oh. A baby.

Oh! A baby!

OH! HER BABY!

(Yeah…our baby!)

She looks down at her baby, and she can't remember the last time she was this happy. The baby is wrapped in a green hoodie and is smiling—smiling so big and so wide that it's infectious.

But…she still remembers dolls. Why dolls?

(You know why, silly.)

How silly. Of course, she knew why.

"Do you have it?" a voice weakly asks. She realizes it's her voice as the fog of laughing gas clears. The nurse smiles, passing her a purple rainbow monkey doll. It is My First Rainbow Monkey doll, a limited edition doll. A doll she fought tooth and nail for because she wanted—no, needed her little girl to have this doll.

And she was right, for the baby took to it immediately. She hugged it, laughing toothlessly as she squeezed the doll.

She nuzzled her baby's face. She wanted to cry.

(you have to remember, the voice reminded again).

Remember? She frowned. Remember what?

(remember your promise)

"I promise to be better…"

Her eyes widened. Her promise. Her promise to be a better mother. Her promise to give her child the happiness she deserved. Her promise to not repeat the same mistakes.

You'll be there to remind me, right? she asked the voice.

(I can't be, the voice said sadly, not always)

She whined, rocking back and forth. Fear paralyzed her. What if she screwed up? What if she was a terrible mom? What if she failed?

What if I forget? she asked the voice, pleading for it to stay.

(remember her, the voice said, motioning to the baby.)

She looked at the baby again.

Her baby.

"My baby," she cried through her watery smile.

The baby opened its eyes, smiling so wide as she pulled her face into a group hug with the doll.

Her baby would have all the dolls she wanted.

She would work hard, super extra hard—overtime if she had to!—to make sure she could buy her baby the entire damn doll company if she wanted it!

(not just dolls, the voice pleaded as it began to fade, remember HER)

"My baby," she softly said, nuzzling the bundle of love in her grasp. "…my little Kuki."

"I promise to be better…" was the last thing the voice said before it disappeared.

Her husband flashed a picture.

Genki Sanban closed her eyes.

…there is a story some kids tell…

We. Won't.

---

IV

The Delightful Tale of Sector Z and the Last Soopreme Leader, Numbuh Three

---

Link has been reestablished. Now resuming priority transmission.

present day

The chilling reappearance of the Delightful Children from Down the Lane sent shivers down the spines of Sector V. The rain continued to pour, soaking the team to the bone as they stood frozen in shock and disbelief.

Abby's mind raced, desperately trying to process the impossible sight before her. "This can't be real," she muttered, more to herself than anyone else.

"Oh, but it is," the Delightful Children replied, their voices harmonizing in that unnerving, unified manner. "And we're here to finish what we started."

Hoagie's hands trembled around his weapon, his usually cheerful face twisted in horror. "No way… they were gone. We saw them disappear!"

Nigel's eyes darted around, seeking any sign of trickery. "We've beaten you before, and we'll do it again," he declared, though the slight waver in his voice betrayed his uncertainty.

"Such bravado," they taunted, stepping forward with a graceful elegance. "But bravado won't save you this time."

Wally's fists clenched, anger overtaking his initial shock. "Ya know what? I don't care how you got here. We're gonna send you losers right back to whatever hole you crawled out of!"

The Delightful Children laughed, their voices echoing hauntingly through the rain-soaked night. "We'd love to see you try."

With a sudden, synchronized movement, the Delightful Children charged. Nigel barely had time to react, blocking a strike just in time. The force of the blow sent him staggering back, but he quickly regained his footing, countering with a swift punch that Bruce dodged effortlessly.

Hoagie moved to engage, Lenny shifting to the forefront. Their battle was a swift clash of gadgets and wits. Sparks flew as their devices collided, each trying to outmaneuver the other.

Kuki and Abby moved to the rear, facing Alessandra and Constance. The girls moved with fluid grace, their attacks perfectly synchronized. Kuki's usual cheerful demeanor was replaced with grim determination as she defended herself and Abby, who was struggling to keep up.

"This ain't going anywhere," Abby muttered, dodging a kick from Constance.

The Delightfuls grinned. "Out of practice, are we?"

Wally, meanwhile, was locked in a fierce struggle with Constance. The two exchanged blows, each trying to gain the upper hand. "You're not so tough," Wally growled, landing a solid punch to her jaw.

To his horror, Constance merely wiped the blood from her lip, a sinister smile playing on her face. "Oh, Wallabee. You've always been so predictable."

Nigel, seeing his team struggling, knew they had to regroup. "Team, fall back!" he commanded, his voice cutting through the chaos. "We need to rethink our strategy."

Reluctantly, sector V disengaged, retreating a few steps to gather their bearings. The Delightful Children did not pursue, standing confidently as if certain of their impending victory.

"By all means," they chuckled. David unfurled an umbrella combating the ran, and his siblings spread their arms to goad their loathsome foes. "Take all the time you need to accept your inevitable defeat."

"What do we do, Numbuh 1?" Kuki asked, her eyes wide with worry. She watched as Nigel glanced at his team, his mind clearly racing. The Delightful Children laughed, the sound invoking a hideous snarl from her leader that made her flinch.

"Can still hardly believe it," Hoagie panted, hands on his knees. "But…it's really them, isn't it?"

"Oh?" The Delightfuls mused, crossing their arms and tilting up their chins. "Here I thought we moved past this foolishness."

"Just shut up!" Wally fumed, eyes rabid. Kuki quickly held him at bay, the boy ready to wildly leap back into the fray. Though his body was restrained, his mouth clearly wasn't. "You can't be those dorks! You can't!"

They simply smirked, eyes mirthful and lording devious little secrets. "And why is that, Wallabee?"

"What do ya think we are? Stew-pid!?" They opened their mouths to answer, but he quickly cut them off. "I-It's unpossible! If you really were the Delightful Children, ya wouldn't be children! You would be teenagers, but you all look exactly the same from all those years ago!"

Hoagie's brows creased, lips thinning as he analyzed the group from afar. "Can't really fault Numbuh 4's math here, guys. This…this doesn't add up."

"Wallabee capable of basic arithmetic? My, we have been gone for a while," they jeered. Their laughter died down, but only to mere snickers as they just kept smiling. "Hmm, but you have a point. What a delightful little dilemma we have on our hands…" Their eyes lazily centered on Nigel, and their sinful little smiles only grew. "Any thoughts, Nigel?"

Abby snapped her eyes to her leader, stunned to see him tense up. His snarl widened, and his fists trembled. If that wasn't odd enough, Abby also noticed Kuki, of all people, fidgeting close behind him. Her eyes darted between them – like some sick inside joke was being shared between the three parties, leaving the rest of them out in the cold.

Finally, Abby growled, fully turning to face Nigel. "Numbuh 1…what are they talkin' about?"

"Nigel!" The Delightfuls gasped as if shocked. They grinned evilly, seeing a chance to twist the knife further. "You didn't tell Abigail? How…interesting."

Abby stomped, completely fed up with this night. "Tell me what?"

Behind her, Hoagie and Wally waited, confused and just as lost. Wally's brow shot up as Kuki gently gripped Nigel's shoulder, whispering something into his ear. When Nigel relaxed his posture and sighed, resigned, more and more questions emerged.

"…Father's first delightfulization chamber," Nigel said, voice neutral. His eyes couldn't meet Hoagie's, Wally's, or even Abby's, so he kept the glare leveled on his archenemies. "It blew a fuse, increasing its power eleventy-buhmillion fold."

"His first chamber?" Hoagie parroted as something tickled the back of his mind. He scratched under his pilot cap, mind running a marathon to connect the dots. "But…according to Deep Sea Lab Research notes and old surveillance data, estimates date Father building his first delightfulization prototype way-way back in 19—" Hoagie stood straight, eyes wide in horrible realization. "…no way."

Wally looked between Hoagie and the grinning Delightfuls, still stumped.

Abby was quicker, slowly looking at Nigel and dreading confirmation.

"He lost the machine but gained five perfect Delightful Children," Nigel said, wincing slightly at Hoagie and Abby's gasp. "Five…permanent Delightful Children."

"The chamber does wonders for one's complexion." The Delightful Children shook their heads, ruefully smiling as they wagged synchronized fingers. "But, Nigel, Nigel, Nigel…you're leaving out the best part!"

Nigel's hand cut through the air defensively. "It doesn't matter anymore."

"Oh, you don't get to decide that," they sneered. "Tell them."

Nigel shivered in rage.

"Tell. Them."

Wally blinked at the growing tension. "Uh, am I missing somethin'?"

Abby ignored him. "Nigel…"

When he finally met her gaze, his expression fell as shame gripped his heart. "Numbuh 5…it's complicated—"

"Actually, it's astonishingly simple; you lied to your little playmates," The Delightfuls deviously cut in. "Tic tok, Nigel. Last chance; tell them, or we will. Trust me, it'll be much worse coming from us."

Nigel's expression was a dark blend of conflict and fury. Even after all these years, they couldn't help but drag him into their sick little mind games. Behind his sunglasses, his eyes moved between their smug profiles and the confused faces of Abby, Hoagie, and Wally. Thick, sticky shame clogged his chest, moving up his throat and staunching any half-baked excuses his emotional side tried to concoct.

The Delightfuls began wagging their fingers, a methodical metronome that was eating away at his sanity.

Just before his turmoil reached a fever pitch, a gentle hand grabbed his, anchoring him back into the present. He looked over, gasping as Kuki offered a soft look. The girl's eyes unraveled him, shivering him to his core. She gave his hand a comforting squeeze, silently offering to ease his pain and take on their shared burden.

And just as quietly, Nigel relented, hand hung low, ashamed, as Kuki stepped forth. The rest of sector V seemed more bewildered, dying to know where this was headed.

The Delightful Children, for their part, said nothing. Their brows arched in unison, intrigued by this new development.

"The Delightful Children," Kuki said, her voice loud and firm against the rain. She stared at her foes for a good minute before turning to face her friends. "…they're the missing members of sector Z."

---

two months before Numbuh Point Two's 13th Birthday

Rainbow Christmas, Rainbow Christmas,

Oh-so-very white and filled with Yuleness!

Bringing gifts to girls and boys,

The naughty, naughty kids don't get no toys!

Oh, silver and gold, and red and white,

Rainbow Christmas, Rainbow Christmas,

Is

To-

-NIGHT!

"Turn it off."

"Aw, no holiday spirit, boss?" was the teasing reply from the cockpit.

The response was a hard, neutral glare.

"…right." It had its desired effect. The pilot silenced any attempt at lifting the mood, flicking the knob of the radio. The entirety of the SCAMPER fell quiet, the random rhythm of turbulence jostling the five children onboard.

Perched in the captain's sofa, Alessandra folded her hands together, staring a hard line out the windshield, snow flurries melting against the glass. "How much further out, Numbuh 0.1?"

Bruce leaned back, glancing up at various terminals and blinking doo-hickeys. "'Nother two clicks, sir."

The answer just garnered a twitch of Alessandra's brow, her knee bouncing of its own accord. A hand grasped her shoulder. She inhaled sharply through her nose, snapping her eyes upward.

"Hey," David's soft voice sliced through the fog of her anxiety. From behind his brunette fringe, his eyes met with hers. His smile was small and soft but trembled with the slightest bit of apprehension. Despite his own misgivings eating at him, he wanted to least offer, "We…we don't gotta do this."

His hesitance was watering for her own fears, letting them bloom again tenfold. She patted his hand reassuringly before gently breaking contact. Her gaze returned to the windshield. "We're not doing anything."

Nestled behind the radar station, Constance grumbled under her breath, "Sure doesn't feel like it."

"Numbuh 0.5," was the warning growl, signaling she had been had. The pigtailed girl flinched. Alessandra noticed and closed her eyes to sigh. "We're just hearing him out. That's it."

Constance lowered her shades, her guard dropping as she gazed up at her leader, uncertainty cracking her mask.

Alessandra returned it with a tiny, earnest nod. "I promise. After that, we hit the Moonbase for the Christmas party. Just like always."

Shoulder sagging the tiniest bit, Constance jerked her shades back up and focused on her task.

Bruce pulled a wrench-like lever, the ship rumbling as it went in for a landing. "We're here."

As soon as it hit the ground, sector Z wasted no time. The shuttle doors were barely halfway open before they were on the ground, armed to the teeth and just itching for an excuse to go trigger-happy.

"Hey!" And there it was. Stomping around the corner, his orange vast stark against the white winter wonderland, a parking attendant waved his citation book like an improvised weapon. "You lousy brats can't park here!" He was greeted by a buck-shot of nickles and dimes, the force of the volley laying him flat. He weakly raised a thumbs up, dizzily saying, "…that'll be good for thirty minutes…"

Constance giggled deviously as she blew on her smoking gun. Feeling the heat of Alessandra's withering glare, he meekly looked over her shoulder, nervously chucking as she shrugged.

The leader of sector Z palmed her face, eyes rolling to the sky. "Numbuh 0.4, have you picked up any hostile signatures?…besides Numbuh 0.5."

"Checking now, sir," Lenny replied. Ignoring Constance huffs, the young scientist marched forward, shrugging in his pockets. He produced a compact, rectangular device. After plugging his earphones in the jack, he held it high to scan the radio waves.

---

Kids Next Door: W.A.L.K.M.A.N.

Wireless. Auxiliary. Links. Kids'. Missions. And. Networks.

---

"Not picking up anything on the WALKMAN," Lenny murmured, eyes squinting to read the output on the LCD screen. "So…we might be in the clear."

Constance snorted. "Forgive me for not being assured."

"Hey! I changed the batteries this morning! Doing the best I can here."

"Let's just stay on our toes," Alessandra ordered as they walked up the plaza, snow and ice crunching under their boots. She eyed the area skeptically. "This is the right place, isn't it?"

In front of them stood a modest, two-story office building, the beginnings of a skyscraper construction site nestled behind it. The towering cranes and wrecking balls stood still, as if frozen by the seasons, as the workers had long since abandoned the sites for the holidays. The beige building screamed with the exuberant pluckiness of any typical startup, the medium-sized billboard sign brightly colored to lure in curious street traffic.

And look at that, they were hiring. How quaint.

Bruce crossed his arms, warming his shivering hands in his pits. "I just fly where the coordinates send me, and they sent me here. So, yeah, this is either the right place or Numbuh 0.4 spilled apple juice on my navigator-ma-bob again."

Lenny slumped. "C'mon, that only happened twice…"

Constance rolled in front of the billboard, aiming her sights at it, ready in case it transformed into some super, deadly surprise spanking machine. You never could be too careful! She arched a brow at the inscription. "EAI? What do you think that stands for?"

Alessandra looked at Lenny. "Anything from the Supercool Nameinator Program?"

The WALKMAN hummed as Lenny fed it the letters, scrambling for any and all possible acronyms. The only result came back, and it nearly had him jump out of his coat. "Evil Adult Industries!?"

"Pfft. Thing's obviously busted. There's no way some supervillain would make it that obvious," Bruce chuckled. After a tense moment, he frowned as a stray intrusive thought had him second-guessing. "…they wouldn't…right?"

"Guys, I don't like this," David spoke up. He looked at the building, some uneasy feeling worming its way into his heart. While he was no scaredy-cat (he had the Arctic Acamedy Badge to prove it), something deep inside was telling him to run. Run far, far away. He grunted. "Maybe we oughta head back."

"We're already here," Alessandra shot down. "And I told you, we're not doing anything. We see what this lame-o has to say, then we leave. Simple."

David frowned. "Nothing's ever that simple, sir."

"But this will be."

"Sir, I…I appreciate all this; I really do. But—"

"David," Alessandra said, hands tightening at her sides. She stared squarely at the building to not betray her inner thoughts. "You don't have a lot of time."

"You worry too much, all of you!" he said, loudly and awkwardly laughing. When none of his teammates joined in, he winced, grasping for straws. "Guys, we got the Supreme Leader's word herself that she'd help us when the time comes. You know she'd do anything for us."

"Yeah, yeah," Bruce mumbled. "But…never hurts to have a back-up plan, right? We're just…ugh, what do rich kids do this time of year?"

"Window shopping?" Lenny suggested.

"Right! That," Bruce waved off. "We go in, scope out the digs, then dip if it's too rich for our piggy banks. No big deal."

David palmed the back of his neck, resolve wavering.

Alessandra stepped up, taking his hand. "Do you trust us?"

David stared down at her, then at Constance, Bruce, and Lenny behind her. All of them looked up at him, eyes serious and smiles unwavering despite the unknown ahead of them. Finally, he returned the smile, answering with a confident nod.

The rest of sector Z nodded back, Alessandra moving to take point as they entered the lobby. "Then let's go. At the very least, we can for sure cross this off the list if it all goes south."

It wasn't long before they stood in the middle of the lobby, feeling terribly out of place. The contrast of their scruffy sweaters and bright sashes against the uptight, upper-middle class 9-to-5 cooperate environment was night and day. Not a trace of fun, joy, or innate kid-ness could be found anywhere. Even the Christmas decorations were minimalist and by-the-book. Bruce swore his Major Glory action figure was taller than the tiny tree propped on the receptionist's desk.

Speaking of the receptionist, she sat behind the desk, loudly clacking away at her keyboard. She chatted over the phone, perfectly manicured nails adjusting her blazer that hung over her blouse. Her studded earrings glinted in the lighting, and her makeup went for a more subdued look, its neutral tones and professional colors emphasizing her natural look.

To say sector Z was wigged out is an understatement. The fuddy-duddy-ness of this entire place made them want to blow chunks. By Zero, why were adults always so plain and maddeningly boring? Especially on Christmas Eve!

Alessandra glanced around her team, their discomfort equal (if not greater) than her own. Right when she seemed gung-ho to call the operation off, the receptionist made a horrible squawking noise at their presence.

"Now, who let you little darlings in here?" she obnoxiously squealed. She bent over, pinching David's cheeks with her pincer nails. "And so late! Santa doesn't bring gifts to naughty children who stay up past their bedtime."

David slapped away her hand, rubbing his face as she laughed like a hyena at her own joke. Constance growled, raising her weapon only to have it shoved down by her leader. Alessandra wagged a stiff, scolding finger, eye twitching at her trigger-happy combat specialist before dealing with the adult herself.

"Listen, lady," Alessandra said, standing on her tiptoes and slamming her hands down. "We're here on the official business. Take us to your boss, or things are gonna get ugly."

"Oh, and now they're playing pretend," the receptionist continued the laugh, the sound grating on their very souls. "That is so precious."

Constance cocked her gun.

"Will you stop?" Alessandra hissed at her friend before glaring back at the woman. Heck, she was half-tempted to let Numbuh Oh-point-Five go nuts at this point. "This isn't pretend. We were invited. By the head honcho himself."

"Oh, of course," the receptionist giggled. Deciding to indulge the rascals, she picked up the phone, overly manicured nails clicking against the dial. She shouldered the receiver, loudly humming an obnoxious holiday tune.

Constance looked between her leader and her gun, pouting. Begging.

Alessandra considered it.

"Hello? Yes, sorry to disturb you, sir, but there are these children here for a very important meeting," she emphasized with a flashy wink. Sector Z groaned. "I'll tell them to—excuse me? Oh. Oh! I see, I see! My apologies! I'll send them right up!"

As she hung up the phone, she looked down at the kids, smiling deepening, not even giving them the satisfaction of an 'I told you so!'. "Well, I'll be…he's been expecting you! Oh, that Mr. Wigglestein…always busy with charity work and taking time out of his day to spend with the local orphans."

The five shared a hard flinch at her words.

"He's in his office. Take the elevator to the top floor, first door on the left," she directed. Sector Z regained their composure, blowing the lady a raspberry as they marched collectively towards the elevator. If she was offended, she was a class act of feigning ignorance as she waved and bellowed, "Merry Christmas!"

The elevator doors gently closed, sector Z focused and ready despite every ding as they ascended the floors.

"Wigglestein, huh," Alessandra muttered to herself. Her eyes cut to Lenny. "Numbuh 0.4?"

Lenny nodded, fiddling with the WALKMAN while giving her a thumbs up. "Already on it! Just keep him talking, and I'll dig up all the dirt I can."

David nudged his elbow into his leader. "Thought we were just talking, boss?"

"Never hurts to have an upper hand. Stupid adults, always underestimating us," Alessandra said with a smirk. As the door opened, her smirk dropped. "Numbuh 0.5; keep Numbuh 0.4 covered. The rest of you? Stay frosty. I'll handle the talking. Let's move."

Like a well-oiled machine, sector Z strode down the corridor, needlessly flipping and rolling behind potted plants and statues. Well, maybe not totally needless: Kids Next Door operatives always needed to look cool, after all. Was part and parcel with the whole guerrilla fighter shtick.

After taking a right, followed by a hastily corrective left—"I thought she meant our left!"—they found themselves in front of a looming, cherry-red-wood door. They formed up, blasters at the ready. On Alessandra's signal, Bruce kicked the door in, and they held their breath, waiting for whatever traps this guy might have had up his dastardly sleeves—

"Why, hello, kids!"

Sector Z expected many things: a grouchy, laser-totting stock-teller. A tie-charming accountant. Even the elusive, two-headed business broker from Timbuktu!

They were not, however, expecting such a dork.

The adult in front of them stood at attention, donned bright red pants, green fuzzy suspenders, and a candy-cane-colored bow tie. Red-rimmed glasses framed bright, doe-eyes, and his lips puffed on a comically oversized pop, small bubbles floating up with every breath.

But what had sector Z horrified was his sweater. Straight from the Ugly Christmas Sweater Extravaganza—a masterpiece of hideousness that defied all fashion sense! The sweater, knitted in an eye-watering mix of neon greens and blinding reds, featured a garish assortment of tacky holiday elements.

The collar was adorned with tiny, blinking LED lights in the shape of reindeer noses that flashed in an erratic, seizure-inducing pattern. The sweater's body boasted a chaotic tapestry of mismatched holiday icons: a deranged-looking Santa with googly eyes, cross-eyed snowmen with melted faces, and a Christmas tree that appeared to be vomiting tinsel.

But, oh, by Zero, was there more! Dangling from the shoulders were actual jingle bells that jangled with every movement, making stealth near-impossible. The sleeves were festooned with 3D felt ornaments and mini stocking pockets that bulged awkwardly, with candy canes sticking out at odd angles.

And the pièce de résistance? An enormous, gaudy, inflatable Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer head affixed to the front, complete with a squeaky nose and ears that flap when he moves.

Alessandra's face scrunched up in disgust. Bruce and David gagged. Lenny's jaw slowly dropped, and Constance squirmed, wanting to throw up.

"I'm so glad you could make it! Come. Sit, sit, sit," he greeted, taking advantage of their pause to push them further in. "I insist!"

Before they knew it, they were ushered into a large, plush chair opposite an expansive mahogany desk. The children blinked, taking a quick assessment of the office. It was large, a custom made fire place alight with a fire that made them feel cozy—at little too cozy. Numerous accolades, awards, and a master business degree of some kind were hung in such a way it was impossible not to catch your eye. Behind the desk was a wide window, offering a view of the city blanketed in snow—like you were atop the world.

And there, above the fireplace, was a gihugic portrait of a man bearing some resemblance to the one before them. The adult wasn't smiling. His neutral visage bore down on them all, making them feel inferior, like they weren't sitting with the correct posture. It was unnerving.

But, Alessandra mused, not as unnerving as the happy-go-lucky doofus smiling in front of him. Her eyes were drawn to the sweater again, and she couldn't help but gag, "What the ever-loving crud are you wearing?"

"Language, young lady," he replied with a teasing wag of his finger. He looked down at his torso, and laughed a nasally laugh. "And this ol' thing? Just something to get in the festive mood! And sweep the competition at the company Ugly Sweater Contest. Ol' Benny here plays to win!"

He paused. Then gasped, pip hanging from his lip and hands smacking his face. "Oh! Where are my manners? Benedict Wigglestein, a pleasure to finally meet you." He rushed up, snatching up their hands for an over-eager handshake. "And you little darlings are the Legendary Sector Z of the Kids Next Door, in the flesh! I'm pleased as punch you accepted my humble invitation!"

They blinked dumbly up at him. Alessandra jerked her hand free, rubbing her wrist while her eyes narrowed suspiciously. "How do you know about—"

"My stars! Look at you all; you're shivering!" Benedict interrupted, catching Constance just as she sneezed. He offered a hanky and fumbled over to the fireplace. Well, you won't be catching a cold on my watch, no sirree! Let me just crank up the heat a bit."

He crouched over, making a show of fidgeting over a log, taking extra care not to contract splinters. He chucked the wood into the hearth, the effect almost immediate. He dusted off his hands, satisfied. "You poor dears, having brave this cruel, cold world alone."

Despite herself, Constance snuggled a bit deeper into the chair, the warmth lulling her into a relaxed state. "Um, it was kind of chilly…" She flinched as Alessandra shot her a sharp look.

"And, oh, Big Ben can hear those tummies growling," he said. He pulled back a curtain, revealing a food cart filled to the brim with snacks and treats. He hopped on, wheeling it over with excitement as he brandished a hearty platter to the children. "Have some Christmas cookies! Piping hot, and fresh from the cafeteria."

Bruce let out an excited "ooo!" his mouth watering and hands eagerly reaching towards the plate. Alessandra rapted his wrists to deter him, garnering a hiss, then a pout as he suckled on his sore fingers.

The leader rolled her eyes as she snapped her fingers to David and ordered, "Cat scan."

From his pouch, David wagged around a tennis racket with a kitten perched between its netting. He hovered it over the cookie platter, raising a brow when the cute little bundle closed its eyes and purred. "Scans are good, boss."

Bruce gave Alessandra and pleading look. Sighing, she waved her hand. After a victorious cheer, the blond boy began tearing into the frosted delights.

"Catering knows their way around a good sugar cookie, don't they?" Benedict chuckled. Without warning, he frowned and reached behind his back.

Alessandra growled, whipping out her blaster.

"Hot chocolate?"

Alessandra scoffed at the offering. "Nice try, adult, but you'd have to wake up pretty early to think you can poison Sector–"

Sluuuuuuuurp.

Her right eye began twitching as she slowly looked up to glare at David.

The tall boy closed his eyes, taking long, contented sips from the mug. He lazily opened his peepers, only to nearly choke on the brew as his commander sent him a withering glare. "O-Oh! I was just, er, taking one for the team, boss! And would ya look at that?" he exclaimed, nervously gesturing to the half-empty cup, "No poison! We're, um, in the clear. Heh heh…"

Alessandra pinched the bridge of her nose.

"C'mon, c'mon," Lenny muttered from his little corner. His tongue jutted out, fingers twisting the knobs of the WALKMAN. As the gadget died with a fading hum, he cursed as he began smacking it. "Gah! Stupid batteries! Last time I ever go dumpster diving for—uh oh."

The boy gulped as Benedict loomed over him. It seemed that the whole 'hanging back and keeping a low profile' bit didn't work too well with the rest of your team distracted. The adult's face was neutral, eyes heavy as he raised a brow at the boy. Lenny nervously chuckled, trying and failing to hide the gadget behind his back. "U-Um, d-do not mind me, kind sir. A-Apologies for the outburst…"

Benedict frowned as he raised his hand.

A protective urge emboldened Alessandra, her trigger finger itching as her blaster just-so-happened to set itself to 'ouch!'.

"No apologies needed here, champ," Benedict said warmly as his hand reached for his breast pocket. He fished out a crisp, unopened pack of triple-A batteries and chucked them Lenny's way. "It's a downright crime how they don't pack batteries in with toys these days. It's how they nickel and dime ya, I swear."

Lenny wearily accepted the package, hesitantly swapping out the batteries to his WALKMAN before offering the remainder back. "U-Um, yeah. H-Here's the rest back."

Benedict waved him off with a kind smile. "Nah, you keep 'em, champ. Merry Christmas."

Lenny smiled. "Gee, thanks, Mister!"

This couldn't be happening. Her wonderful, refined sector Z was easily won over by an adult. Constance snuggled into the cushions, Bruce gobbled down cookie after cookie, David took slow, refined sips of cocoa, and Lenny was just openly plucking away with his WALKMAN, guard down and all. Alessandra glared up at the man, him all smug and pleased with himself. They were eating out of the palm of his hand!

Well, guess that's why she was leader. It would take a lot more than that to dupe her.

Alessandra swiped one of the untouched mugs, eyes never leaving Benedict as she took methodical sips. Enough beating around the bush. "So…Mr Wigglestein."

"Oh, no need to be so formal. Mr. Wigglestein was…my old man," he said, voice a tad more strained. He brushed it off with a disarming smile. "Please, you scamps can call me—ooof! There I go, almost getting ahead of myself." He chuckled before coughing into his hand. "Ben is fine."

"Mr. Wigglestein." She smirked into her drink as she noted a subtle twitch of his brow. "How, exactly, do you know of the Kids Next Door?"

"Ah, I see you little rascals occasionally on my morning commute. Running around…all unsupervised. Fighting to stay up late and 'stickin' it to the man.' I ain't no square, yo. I can totally pick up what you cool cats are throwing down, word?" he said, making exaggerated hand gestures in a vain attempt to seem 'hip.' "It's…adorable, honestly. And it would be unbecoming not to pay attention to the latest fads."

Between mouthfuls of cookies, Bruce muffled out, "If noff a fad!"

"Don't talk with your mouth full, son," Benedict gently intoned before turning back to Alessandra. "Any who doodle, let's just say that stumbling across you tykes was a 'happy' little accident."

Alessandra frowned. "You expect me to believe you managing to breech our global encryption-doo-hickeys and make contact with a high-ranking sector was an accident?"

Benedict smiled, red-rimmed glasses reflecting the light of the fire. "Like I said…I ain't no square, yo."

"Cut. The. Crud," she warned. Her serious infliction got her team to snap to attention. They ceased partaking in the adult's cozy comforts and tensed as their leader leaned forward. "Stop wasting everyone's time, and tell us what you want."

"Language," he softly scolded, the undercut of a warning entering his tone. Quick as it came, he melded back to his warm demeanor as he smiled at the youths. "And my dear, you have it all wrong! Why, it's not a stretch at all to say I've brought you here to ask what you want."

"How could you possibly know what we want?"

"Sector Z," Benedict observed as he sat down in his chair. He folded his hands against his desk, leaning forward on them as he appraised the children. "The best of the best, as the kids say. I hear the occasional tall tale about the mischief your general club gets up to, but you five? I must say, the things I've heard!"

With a snort, Alessandra crossed her arms. "Aw, you disapprove?"

"Disapprove? Young lady, I'm inspired!" he gushed as he tossed up his arms. "You five little go-getters pulled yourselves up from your bootstraps and became overnight rebel sensations. Why, I'd kill for my entire staff to have just an ounce of your moxie. It's incredible what you five can accomplish, truly it is."

His praise caught her off-guard. "It…it is?"

"Of course! Why, if all kids were like you…" he trailed off, eyes looking off to the side as his brows furrowed ever so slightly. He stared at the portrait of his father, hands tightening as he got lost in thought. Alessandra struggled to read his expression, but before she could make headway, he shifted and, with a sigh, "It's just such a shame about your situation."

David frowned. "Situation?"

"Oh, it's okay, son," Benedict said as if comforting a mourning widow. His features looked pathetically sad like a tragedy was playing in front of him. "I know it's quite the stigma…being alone and homeless."

And once again, Sector Z flinched. Each child went through various expressions as their defenses scrambled to come back online. In such a warm, inviting environment, for a blissful moment, they had nearly forgotten…

Alessandra snarled. "Sure like gossip, huh? We have a home. Don't worry your sweet little head, four-eyes."

"Aw, you don't need to put on a brave face for me, sweetheart. This is a safe place," Benedict intoned. "I'm aware of those little playforts they set you up in. Can't imagine those places have good insulation in the winter."

"Hey," Constance snapped up. "O-Our treehouse is the warmest, safest, most awesome-est place there is!"

Benedict nodded. "I'm sure it is."

"There? We're happy," David butted in. "No sticks in the mud to tell us what to do."

"Of course, of course. Who wouldn't love that?"

"It's nice and quiet," Lenny mumbled, pulling his gadget closer as he thought of his escape. "No danger or scary monsters under our beds."

"That sounds like a dream, champ."

"We got our guinea pigs to keep us company," Bruce hollered. "And we get to play with our action figures all day long!"

"Indeed."

"Our treehouse is our home," Alessandra finished. Her heart thumped in her chest, thoughts of those leaves and branches coiling around them like a hug as they returned from every mission. She allowed herself a secret smile thinking of it. "There? We're always together. We're never apart."

Behind his fists, Benedict smirked. "But for how much longer, I wonder."

Suddenly, reality came crashing down, her heart skipping a beat and making her short of breath. "W-What?"

"Now, I'll admit, I'm not completely up to snuff, but this Kids Next Door…what's their exit policy for 'special' cases, such as yourselves?"

Alessandra's nails dug into her knees. "That's classified."

"It's okay to admit you don't know, honey. I'm not here to judge."

"Well, good, because you don't have to!" Constance growled, face all hot and heated. "So what if they don't know what to do with us orphans when we get too old? They'll figure it out!"

"Point Five!" Alessandra hissed the girl into silence. Realizing her mistake, Constance pulled down her beret, leaning into David's comforting arms as Alessandra went into damage control. "How we handle the discharging of operatives with…extenuating circumstances is none of your concern, Mr. Wigglestein."

"But I'm oh-so terribly concerned, my dear," Benedict bemoaned, laying it on thick as he draped an arm over his head. "Just leaving it up to chance with our overloaded foster care system? Throwing you poor children out in the cold to the whims of a society that wants nothing to do with you? Calling you vile, nasty things like 'unruly', 'uneducated', and 'dirty little street brats?' Why, it just breaks my heart."

"Then enlighten us, poindexter," Bruce spat. He positioned himself protectively in front of his team, hands splintering the desk as he slammed them down. He snarled up at the adult menacingly. "Who would take in 'unruly,' 'uneducated,' 'dirty little street brats' like us!?"

"Oh, I don't know. Maybe…" Benedict sunk back into his chair, lips curling into a delightfully devious smile. "…me?"

The children stared at him in shock. Alessandra's eyes widened as she processed his words, her defenses momentarily disarmed. "You?" she echoed, disbelief coloring her tone.

Benedict nodded, leaning back in his chair with a bashful smile. "Yes, me. I've always wanted to be a dad, but the thought of dating, marriage, and all that...well, it's just not for me. Adoption, on the other hand, is so much simpler. I get to skip all the boring parts and get straight to the fun of being a parent!"

"You…you think being a parent sounds fun?"

"Of course!" he said, jumping up, arms trembling with glee. "I'd be a good father. A great father! A much better father than some people!" he suddenly shouted, glaring daggers at the portrait. He blinked, quickly schooling himself before continuing. "And this isn't a one-way street, children. Here, feast your eyes!"

He reached into a drawer and pulled out a single sheet of paper, sliding it across the desk to them. Apprehensive, Alessandra stood and picked it up, skimming it over as her team huddled behind her. "Is…is this a contract?"

"Not just any contract, my dear, but a listing of everything I can offer you," he said. He sat on his desk, neatly folding his legs and hands as he urged them on. "Go on. Take a gander."

And gander she did. Alessandra began reading, aiming to pick apart every detail. And it had to be her, honestly. Not only was she the leader, but it was because, out of all of them, she made it far enough in public school to pick up critical thinking skills. Back before she lost…

She stuffed down those thoughts. She was the leader. It was her responsibility. Alessandra began reading.

Wanting to be useful, the rest of Sector Z tried to read to her using the basic skills she taught them. Slowly, they were able to make sense of certain parts that resonated with them.

"Wait, wait, wait! What's this part?" Bruce pointed out. "Does…does that say homemade birthday cakes? For every birthday?"

"Yep, five cakes a year! I do enjoy baking." He fanned himself. "It's more than a hobby, actually…"

"And that says 'man-sion', right?" Constance meekly asked. "That…that means 'big house'…right?"

"The biggest house with the comfiest-est beds," Benedict nodded. "And the butler who will wait on you hand and foot."

"And this part talks about handmade school lunches," David whispered. Actually wanting to go to school was a huge stigma as far as the greater KND was concerned, so their truancy was excused. Heck, Global Command even encouraged it! But the older he got, the more David couldn't ignore that shameful desire to expand his knowledge. "You'll help us get back in school?"

"My kids will have the best, respectable education money can buy," Benedict proudly promised. "Just think about it—all you could ever want and then some! And best of all, as long as you stay with me? You'll never have to worry about being separated. Ever again."

The children glanced at the contract, their eyes widening as they read the promises laid out before them. Alessandra's hands shook slightly as she picked up the paper, her heart pounding in her chest. "You...you'd really do all this for us?"

"Of course," Benedict replied, his tone earnest. "I want to give you the life you deserve, a life where you're safe, happy, and together. A life where we're a perfect and loyal little family. All you have to do is say yes."

The children exchanged glances, the idea worming its way into their minds. Could it really be true? Could an adult—any adult—actually want them? Alessandra held the contract with a trembling hand, the promises seeming almost too good to be true. She glanced at her teammates, seeing their faces reflect a mixture of hope, doubt, and longing.

Bruce, usually so tough and unyielding, softened as he considered the possibility. His eyes, wide and earnest, flickered with the thought of never having to worry about where their next meal would come from. He glanced at Benedict, who was still smiling warmly, and felt a pang of yearning in his chest. The man's kindness, the warmth of the fire, the delicious cookies—it all felt like a dream he never dared to hope for.

Cuddled deeper into the plush chair, Constance let her guard down just a bit more. The thought of having someone who genuinely cared, who would tuck them in at night and make them feel safe, brought tears to her eyes. She looked at Benedict with a mixture of skepticism and hope, wondering if this was the miracle they had always needed but never expected.

David sipped his hot chocolate thoughtfully, the warmth spreading through him as he considered Benedict's offer. The idea of going to school, having homemade lunches, and being part of a real family was almost too much to fathom. He looked at his teammates, seeing the same longing reflected in their eyes. Could this really be their chance at a better life?

Lenny, normally content with his gadgets and the safety of their treehouse, found himself imagining what it would be like to have a permanent home. The thought of a mansion filled with all the gadgets and toys he could ever want made his heart race. He glanced at the batteries Benedict had given him, a symbol of the man's generosity, and felt a flicker of warmth and trust.

Alessandra, always the leader, struggled to maintain her skepticism. But even she couldn't deny the allure of Benedict's promises. She saw her teammates' eyes light up with hope, and for a moment, she allowed herself to consider the possibility.

Maybe, just maybe, this adult was different.

Maybe he genuinely cared about them and wanted to give them the life they deserved.

A life the Kids Next Door couldn't guarantee them once their service was up.

"We…" Alessandra gulped, eyes wavering under the weight of his smile. They flickered back to the contract, reading over the promises once more. However, she frowned, catching sight of something right there. Just above the signature line.

It is written in a font just a few points smaller than the rest.

All at once, her walls sprang back up, and she couldn't believe she almost ignored all those years of training. Of course, there it was, subtly nestled in the byline.

The fine print.

"La merda puzza," her mama used to say.

She frowned.

"Adherence to a dress code... strict curfew...appreciate boring classical music… must follow all orders from the parental figure and any approved adult without question..." Alessandra read aloud, her voice growing colder with each word. The rest of Sector Z's eyes widened as the true nature of the contract became apparent. "Listen to all adults? That's against everything we stand for!"

Bruce leaned over her shoulder, squinting at the document. "We have to wash behind our ears?!" he exclaimed.

David and Constance exchanged uneasy glances. Lenny leaned in closer to Alessandra, his face serious.

Benedict merely rolled his eyes.

"Now, now, kids," he began, trying to sound soothing. "These are just minor stipulations, really. Just to ensure everyone is on their best behavior. It's not as bad as it sounds, I promise."

"Oh, it sounds pretty bad," David said, his tone hardening. "Following orders without question? What are we, robots?"

"Yeah," Constance added, crossing her arms defiantly. "We're Kids Next Door! We don't take orders from adults!"

"As your parent, I would expect you to do as you are told. My house, MY rules," Benedict's smile faltered. "I assure you, it's all for your benefit. To make sure you're safe and well taken care of."

"And be perfectly presentable and delightful at all times?" Alessandra finished, her voice dripping with sarcasm. She locked eyes with Benedict, her gaze steely and unforgiving. "What a load of horse crud!"

The room fell silent, the warmth and comfort from before now feeling like a distant memory.

And then, Benedict's eyes hardened. "Language."

Suddenly, the WALKMAN beeped. Lenny looked down, eyes widening in horror as he passed it to his leader. "S-Sir!"

She snatched it up. Finally, the WALKMAN had managed to crack every lair of defense Benedict's little 'start-up company' had. After going through every firewall, analyzing all cam footage, and sifting through every credible water-cooler conversation his employees were having, the WALKMAN had come to a finite, definite conclusion about Mr. Wigglestein.

And that conclusion was: DANGER! DANGER!

Good enough for her.

"Kids Next Door, BATTLE STATIONS!" she shouted. Sector Z formed together like glue, their weapon raised and poised for combat. Alessandra sneered down at the adult, the jig finally up. "Congrats, loser, you almost had us hook, line, and sinker. But you're going to have to do way better than that to one-up Sector Z!"

"…ah, I was so hoping it wouldn't come to this," Benedict sighed. His posture straightened, eyes hard as steel. "Very well then."

He snapped his fingers.

All at once, the fire died. The cozy, warm office now felt cold and empty as metal shutters slammed down the windows and doors, blocking all possible exits. Realizing they were sealed in, Sector Z opened fire, screaming as mustard lasers and gumball buck shots assaulted the fortification.

To their utter dismay, their weapons were completely ineffective.

"I suggest you put those toys away, children."

They looked at Benedict behind his desk. A lone light fixture illuminated the room, casting the once harmless-looking man in a menacing, shadowy silhouette. The harsh lightening reflected off his glasses, giving them a sinister, yellow glint.

"There will be no need for them, I assure you," he said, his nasal voice low and somber as he narrowed his eyes. "Besides, wouldn't want you shooting your eyes out, would we?"

Bruce scoffed, gesturing to the blockades. "You think we were born yesterday?"

"Oh, those? It's not to keep you in, but rather keep prying eyes out. Since you seem so eager to have a candid, private discussion," he said, calmly folding his hands together. "So let's hash it out now that it's all in the open."

Alessandra wiggled the WALKMAN. "Yeah, after our tech exposed you for the fraud you are."

"Nifty little gadget you have there. I'm curious. What does it say about little ol' me?"

"Enough," she answered, tone acidic. "It says you're evil. We know everything we need to know about you now."

"Ah, the innocence of youth. Seeing everything in black and white. It's cute," he sardonically said. He leaned back, the chair creaking as he glanced at the ceiling. "But that's fair, considering I knew everything I needed to know about you scamps before you even entered my office."

"You don't know a thing about us!"

"Oh?"

Benedict reached for his draw again, unveiling a dossier. With practiced grace, he slid it across the desk, its contents expertly spilling forth for the children to see. Sector Z shared a glance, then cautiously approached. Their faces went stark white at what they saw.

Files and pictures.

Of them.

"Constance Count. Numbuh Point Five. Combat and Hand-to-Hand Specialist of Sector Z," Benedict began recounting as if at a dress rehearsal he had attended dozens of times before. "Trigger-happy little punk, too. Though, I suppose that's a byproduct of that dreadful deadbeat lout of a father you ran away from. Don't fret; you're probably better off."

Constance bristled, gnashing her teeth together to hold back tears as bad memories singed her mind.

"Leonard 'Lenny' Lord. Numbuh Point Four. Chief 2x4 Scientist of Sector Z. Such a brilliant mind you have, boy. At least when it's not being endlessly shuffled between loud and obnoxious foster homes that can never seem to handle your special needs. Quite the shame."

Lenny fidgeted, nervously pounding his boxing gloves together in an effort to look formidable.

"Bruce Baron. Numbuh Point One. Diversionary Tactics Officer of Sector Z. Bit of a nut for Major Glory, aren't ya? Good taste, sport. I have the first couple of issues myself, dontcha know. I wonder what your hero would think of you having to pilfer his merchandise when the camera isn't looking because you don't have relatives to buy any for you."

Bruce wasn't sure what kept him from jumping across the table and socking the man upside the face.

"David Duke. Numbuh Point Two. Strategist and Second-in-Command of Sector Z. Turning thirteen soon, eh, sport? Big day! I wonder what happens the day after, though. The day your precious Kids Next Door drops you off on the curb since they don't know where to send you otherwise."

David's knuckles whitened as his grip around his billiard stick tightened.

"And last, but certainly not least, there's Miss Alessandra Altolocato. Numbuh Point Three. Leader of Sector Z herself," Benedict regaled. He tapped his chin. "That name Italian? Spicy, like a meatball! And you want to know what's spicier? You flip the script. These guys?" He hovered his finger over her friends. "They don't know what they're missing. You? You do."

As Benedict spoke, Alessandra's blood turned to ice. Her breath caught in her throat, and a cold sweat broke out across her forehead. Her vision tunneled, narrowing to just his smug, condescending face. She felt her heart pound painfully against her ribs; each beat echoing in her ears like a drum.

He leaned forward, his tone tapering with sympathy. "You had a hard-working mommy and daddy who loved you very much. I'm sure they were very proud of you. But, sad to say, my dear…there is a reason we teach you kids to buckle your seat belts."

The world around her blurred, her ears ringing as a torrent of emotions surged within her. Anger, pain, grief, and fury swirled in a tempest, her vision tinged with red. Her jaw clenched so tightly she thought her teeth might shatter. The image of her parents, loving and caring, flashed before her eyes, only to be cruelly ripped away by Benedict's callous remark.

Her entire body trembled, a violent shiver coursing down her spine. She felt a scream building in her chest, raw and primal, but she swallowed it down, turning it into a sharp, gasping breath. Her eyes burned with unshed tears, her vision shimmering as she fought to keep her composure.

"You…" she hissed through gritted teeth, the words barely escaping her lips. She stood abruptly, the chair scraping loudly against the floor. Her fists were clenched at her sides, nails digging into her palms as she took a step forward, glaring daggers at Benedict. "How dare you."

The air in the room grew thick with tension, Alessandra's fury palpable. Her friends, sensing the shift, watched her with wide eyes, the gravity of Benedict's words sinking in. Alessandra's chest heaved with each breath, her entire being trembling with a rage she had never felt before.

"Don't you ever," she growled, "speak about my parents again. You don't know anything about me. About us."

Benedict's eyes narrowed, matching her ferocity with a single, piercing glower. "You started this. I tried being polite, and you spat in my face. Don't talk the talk if you can't walk the walk, sister."

The sheer force of his gaze and the biting edge in his words sliced through the room. Alessandra's defiance wavered, her body recoiling as if struck. The balance of power shifted palpably, and the tension hung thick in the air, a silent battle of wills raging between them.

He stood up slowly, his posture towering and imposing, and began to pace around the room with a calculated calmness.

"You think you know yourselves?" Benedict continued, his voice rising slightly as he circled the room. "You think you understand your own lives, your own needs? Let me tell you something, kids. I know you better than you know yourselves."

He paused, letting his words sink in.

"Society left you with nothing," Benedict said, his tone now laced with a hint of bitterness. "Each one of you. Alone, abandoned, fending for yourselves in a world that doesn't care. And when you finally find each other and create a family out of the scraps life threw at you, what does the Kids Next Door do? They plan to take that away from you too."

Alessandra's eyes widened. Her fists remained clenched, but her resolve was shaken. She glanced at her friends, seeing the fear mirrored in their faces.

The impending reality loomed over them, a dark cloud threatening to tear them apart.

"David," Benedict said softly, his eyes locking onto the boy. "You're about to turn thirteen, aren't you? The big, bad age where the Kids Next Door decide you're no longer useful. They'll decommission you, wipe your memories, and throw you out like yesterday's garbage. And then what? You're torn from the only family you've ever known. Do you think the KND has a plan for you? For any of you?"

David's face paled, his eyes darting to Alessandra, then to the floor. The weight of Benedict's words pressed down on him, a cold, heavy truth that he couldn't escape.

"The Kids Next Door claims to protect all kids," Benedict continued, his voice a mocking sneer. "But where are they when kids like you need them the most? Where are their policies for orphaned operatives? They don't exist. You're left in limbo, with no safety net, no guarantees. They promise the world but deliver NOTHING."

He turned to Alessandra, his eyes gleaming with a cruel satisfaction. "But me? I'm offering you a real chance. A home, security, a family that won't abandon you when you hit some arbitrary age limit. I'm offering you stability, something the KND has never given you."

Alessandra's breathing was ragged, and her mind raced. The fine print on the contract was still glaringly obvious, but Benedict's words wormed their way into her thoughts.

The fear of losing David, the uncertainty of their futures—it all weighed heavily on her.

"You think you're protecting each other by staying loyal to the KND?" Benedict scoffed. "They're using you, and when they're done, they'll toss you aside. But with me, you'll always have a place. You'll always be together."

The room fell into a tense silence, Benedict's words hanging in the air like a dark shadow. The children of Sector Z exchanged glances, the seeds of doubt planted deep within them. The prospect of security, of staying together, tugged at their hearts, challenging everything they had believed in.

Desperately clinging to that fading ember of hope, Alessandra gulped and shot back at him. "And…what? You're just doing this out of the kindness of your heart?"

"Eh, not entirely. But hey, at least I'm not jerking your chain like your so-called comrades."

Benedict's face shifted into a more sincere expression, though his eyes still held a calculating glint. He reached into his desk drawer and pulled out a flyer, unfolding it with a flourish. The glossy paper depicted children in strict, spotless uniforms, standing in neat rows with forced smiles.

The bold headline read, "Make Your Children More Delightful with Evil Adult Industries Incorporated!"

Upon seeing the name, Bruce groaned. "Oh, you've got to be kidding me…"

"Let's cut to the chase, shall we?" Benedict said, placing the flyer on the desk for Sector Z to see. "This is what my company is working on. A program to transform children into the epitome of delightfulness. Discipline, obedience, and order. No more rebellious antics, squandered talent, or making a mess of my lawn," he grumbled, going off on a tangent. "'Hey, mister, can we come and get our ball back?' NO! Learn to pitch, you ninny!"

The children stared at the flyer, their expressions a mix of confusion and disgust.

"You see, right now, you're horrible role models for the Kids Next Door," Benedict continued, his tone dripping with disdain. "You're inspiring children to a future of crushed dreams and self-destruction. But if you follow me, obey me, and become the poster children for my delightful program, you can change all that."

He leaned in closer, his eyes locking onto each of them in turn. "You have so much potential, and you're wasting it. Together, we can save ALL the children by making sure adults like ME make the hard choices for them. We'll ensure they're safe in my perfectly designed families with stable upbringings. Better than the ones we had."

Alessandra's eyes narrowed. "And what do you get out of this?"

Benedict smiled, a predatory gleam in his eye. "The satisfaction of knowing that I've created a generation of perfect, obedient children. That I solved the problem that no one wants to address! And if you join me, Sector Z, you could show everyone that you're better. Together, we could rule the world as FATHER AND SON!... and son, and, uh, other son. And daughters, I guess?" He slumped, scratching his head. "We'll have to workshop that last part, but the point stands."

He shook his head. "WHATEVER! Look, you'll be safe together, and you'll have a purpose. A real purpose. Not just playing make-believe in a treehouse but making a tangible difference. Isn't that what you want?"

Alessandra's heart pounded in her chest. The idea of staying together, of having a purpose, was tempting.

But the image of those children in the flyer, their forced smiles and lifeless eyes, haunted her.

"We're not your puppets," she said, her voice steady but cold. "We don't need you to make us delightful."

Benedict's smile faltered slightly, but he quickly recovered. "But think about it, Alessandra! Think about David. When he turns thirteen, the KND will erase his memories and throw him out. But with me, he stays. You all stay. Safe, secure."

David's eyes widened, fear and uncertainty flickering across his face. The team looked at each other, the weight of Benedict's words pressing down on them.

"I'm offering you a way out," Benedict said softly, almost gently. "It's not ideal, but life is all about compromise. This is the only way. A way to stay together. To be better. To have a real future."

"But…" Alessandra whimpered. "We won't be…us."

"Trust me," he said, some unknown bitter resignation tainting his voice. His back was to the portrait of his father as he said, "Sometimes it's just better to suck it up and be what those your better expect of you."

The room was silent, each member of Sector Z reflecting on Benedict's words. Alessandra could feel their eyes on her, waiting, trusting her to make the call. She thought about their situation, the struggles they had endured, and the hard lives they had lived.

But then, she remembered the Kids Next Door, the mission she had chosen to undertake, and the difference they had made in kids' lives.

And she thought of their dear friend Rebecca, Numbuh Beyond, the Supreme Leader of the Kids Next Door, who had promised she would find a way to help them.

Alessandra lifted her chin, resolve hardening in her eyes. "Take your contract and shove it up your butt."

Benedict was silent for a moment. Then, his eyes narrowed into slits. "Well, then, I suppose there's only one thing left to do."

He snapped his fingers again.

Sector Z braced themselves, expecting some concealed booby trap, the end of all showdown of their preteen lives.

To their utter befuddlement, the shutters around the windows retracted, the defense systems powered off, and the door to the exit swung open.

In a complete tonal one-eighty, Benedict shrugged and said, "Well, I tried. Thanks for hearing me out."

Sector Z stared at him, refusing to believe it was that easy.

Benedict looked genuinely puzzled. "What are you waiting for? You came to talk, we talked. We agreed to disagree. Now get off my property."

Still confused, David asked, "You're sure you don't want to fight?"

Benedict looked exasperated. "On Christmas Eve!?"

Alessandra couldn't help but humorlessly laugh, a dry, incredulous sound. "You're serious?"

Benedict threw his hands up in frustration. "Yes! Go home! Enjoy your holiday! And, y'know, maybe consider my offer. Or don't. I honestly don't give a doodie right now. But get out of here! The longer you stay, the more overtime I have to pay these people."

Bruce risked a glance at the platter. "Um, can we keep the cookies?"

"If it makes you leave faster!"

"Fine! We're goin'. Sheeesh," Alessandra groaned. She flicked her head, her team following her and grumbling all the way. "The nerve of this guy…"

As the reached the elevator, Lenny mumbled under his breath as he kept tapping the call button, as if it would hasten the elevator's arrival. Alessandra was too tired to tell him otherwise. After leaving Benedict's office, the whole emotional gravity of the situation was hitting her like a freight truck. All she wanted to do was get back to the treehouse, go to sleep, and wake up to the presents Santa had left them and forget about the world for the day.

Forget about how they still didn't have an answer to their problem.

"Oh, one last thing."

Sector Z jumped, Benedict somehow appearing out of the air. Alessandra fumbled over her words. How in the name of gum did he creep in that get-up!?

"Just to show there's no hard feelings," he smoothly said as he extended his hand. "Here ya go."

Alessandra found herself holding a sleek, red rectangular business card. She flipped it over, skimming the golden written embroidered on it. "Pfft, what? This some stupid gift card?"

"It's my address," Benedict smiled. "In case you change your mind."

"First you take photos of us, now you're inviting us to your house?" David asked with a grimace. "Yeah…that's not creepy at all."

"Oh, wonderful. Now you've made it weird," Benedict grumbled. The audacity of this punk. "Just think about what I said!"

"There's nothing to think about," Alessandra shut it down. "Numbuh Beyond said she's help us. We have faith in her."

"Ah, yes, your supreme commander brat, or what-have-you," Benedict took a drag of his bubble pipe. "Tell me. Whatever she says goes, correct?"

"Yeah," Constance answered before slapping her hands over her mouth. She looked apologetically at her leader.

"It's fine," Alessandra reassured with a gentle smile. The meeting had been hard on all of them. She glared up at the man. "But yes, tall, dark, and dork-some, as Supreme Leader, Numbuh Beyond has the power to do anything she sets her mind to. It's why she's most definitely gonna pull through for us. So nyah nyah!"

"Hmm, but if she has the absolute power to help you," he intoned, a smirk curling his lips as he puffed on his bubble pipe, "why hasn't she done it yet?"

His words hit like a sucker punch, visibly shaking them to their core.

And just like that, the long con had been won, the seed of doubt firmly planted.

"You're a jerk," Alessandra weakly called out as they all stepped into the elevator, her voice lacking its usual fire.

"Sticks and stones," Benedict replied with a dismissive wave. As the elevator doors began to close, he added, "Should you decide to rethink my offer, I'll be waiting for you…right down the lane."

Alessandra shot back, "Be prepared to wait forever and a half!"

The elevator doors shut with a metallic thud, leaving Benedict alone in the dimly lit hallway. He stood there for a moment, savoring the silence, a satisfied smirk spreading across his face. With a confident stride, he turned and walked back to his office, the echoes of his footsteps the only sound in the otherwise empty corridor.

---

Kuki remembered the day she found out. How could she not? It was such a wonderful, terrific, exciting day!

Okay, maybe it wasn't that wonderful; it did start with the Delightful Children not wanting to share their cake, after all. The meanies.

And maybe it wasn't that terrific; someone had played them all for dummies, stealing the cake and using it as the pièce de résistance for some tea party. A tea party she had to beg, beg, and BEG the Delightfuls to attend. Don't even get her started on getting them to make her their plus one.

And come to think of it, it was less exciting and more terrifying because, turns out, the tea party hosts were actually ancient demon maids who wanted to turn their souls into sugar cubes. Yeah, that was scary.

But still, if you ignore all that, still a wonderful, terrific, exciting day! She couldn't wait to tell Numbuh One all about it.

And that's exactly what Kuki did.

"…and then there was yelling, running, more yelling, and then they went BOOM!" Kuki said excitedly, falling to her bed and making doll-angels among her giant assortment of stuffed animals. "It was the best tea party I've ever been invited to."

Nigel sighed as he lowered his clipboard. "It's the only tea party you've been invited to, Numbuh 3."

"Details, details," she shushed, scrambling to the end of her plushy bed. She hung her head over the end, laughing as Nigel appeared upside down from her perspective. "Why don't we ever have a tea party? We could totally have a tea party! Your dad can make us tea; your mom can make us cookies-it'd be great!"

"Maybe later. For now, focus. I need to give Global Command a proper report of your account," Nigel said as he went back to scribbling. "The Delightful Children are bad enough, but with the threat of these Charming Servant demon things in the air, danger levels of parties everywhere jump straight to red!"

"But we beat them, silly. I told you that."

"They were apparently beaten once, but that didn't stop them permanently, apparently." Nigel ceased his writing for a moment and gave Kuki a stern stare. "Besides, you're lucky this outweighs your poor performance. I'm very disappointed in you, Numbuh 3?"

She flipped around, folding her arms under her chin, kicked her legs up, and blinked cutely. "Why?"

"Because if what you say is true, then you gave the Delightfuls their cake back!" He waved his hands around, acting as if she had said she was considering going traitor. "What were you thinking?"

"They saved me, so I thought I would be nice. Maybe they'll remember it and share it with us next time."

"I highly doubt that," he said. "Numbuh 3, you can't trust them. I don't know why they went out of their way to assist you, but it probably benefited them somehow. They're our enemies; you should always be weary of their motives."

"But they're not our enemies, not really. I found out a sooper important secret." She then stood on her bed, wrapping an arm around his neck and bringing him close. She looked around, and once the coast was clear, she whispered, "The Delightful Children are sector Z!"

She was expecting many things. She expected him to gasp, mind totally blown by her revelation. She waited for him to start gushing, and then they could gossip and turn it into a sleepover! Her mind was a whir with so many fun little scenarios. Kuki couldn't wait to see which one Nigel picked.

Only, when he finally decided, something seemed wrong She remembered him going all tense, Kuki actually leaning away as he stared at her. Even with his sunglasses in the way, she could feel the intensity of his gaze.

Like she had said something really, really bad.

"Kuki," he said evenly, and she began fidgeting. Nigel rarely spoke to her like that, and most of the time, he only did it when she was in big trouble. "Where did you hear that?"

"The twins," she mumbled as she buried her arms further into her sleeves. "And, um, the Delightfuls too."

Nigel looked away, and Kuki plopped down on her butt. Her leader was normally stoic, sure, but only those close to him knew when something was really bothering him. And for whatever reason, what Kuki had just told him was really grinding his gears.

She could tell. She was close to him, after all.

Then, Nigel further worried her as he took the report—one dubbed Operation: TEA—and cleanly tore it in half.

"Nigel?"

"Listen to me very carefully, Kuki," he said, voice soft as he took off his sunglasses to look at her. "Under no circumstances are you to divulge the information you've learned with anyone. Not your sister, not your hamster, not Wally; anyone."

Kuki was getting anxious. "Why?"

"The knowledge that the Delightful Children are, in fact, the missing Sector Z is Zip-Yer-Lip class information. You are to share it with no one under threat of decommissioning."

She gasped only to cover her mouth, it feeling all tingly with spicy information. After a moment, she peeled her hands away as she frowned at Nigel. "Wait a goshdarn second. You knew, didn't you?" She didn't wait for him to answer. Of course, you did! They said you were keeping secrets!"

"I discovered this during the Grandfather incident." They both shivered at the mention of such a traumatic period. "And I'm telling you the same spiel I was given when I brought it to Rachel's attention."

"Why all the secrecy? Shouldn't we do something?"

"The Delightful Children were delightfulized to an insane degree; not even the recommissioning device could undo their transformation for long. It's a terrifying thought," Nigel sighed as he peered out her window, eyes wandering to the manor far on the horizon. "Father wanted the most perfect, well-behaved, adult-respecting children ever, and he got them. Permanently."

Kuki shuffled. "There's nothing we can do?"

"Not yet. There's a sooper secret, ultra-special science nerd team analyzing delightful chamber technology. Once they discover a breakthrough, I'm sure we can free them from Father's hold."

Kuki smiled at that. "Oh, that's good then. What will we do then? Ah, I know, we could probably go on missions with them and be best friends! We'd visit each other's treehouse, go see movies, beat up adults, and-"

"If the Delightful Children were to ever be cured, we would have to promptly decommission them."

The room fell silent, Kuki shell-shocked, and Nigel crumpled the paper in his hand. He looked to his teammate, nodded, and donned his shades as he made for the exit. "Get some rest, Numbuh 3. I'll see you in the morning.

"But," she said. Upon seeing him hesitate, she continued. "Why…why do they need to be decommissioned? It's not their fault they're bad guys."

Nigel stopped at the doorway, voice terse as he said, "It's not."

"Then why?"

"The cautionary tale they tell you as a cadet is a lot older than they let on, Kuki." Nigel stood in the doorway, his hand gripping the frame as he lowered his head. "Sector Z went missing a long, long time ago."

He left without another word, leaving Kuki to her thoughts. She slowly fell back on her bed, staring at her ceiling as if it would give her all the answers. Her mind wandered to the Delightfuls, how could it not? She thought about them, their fate, and the information she had just sworn to never tell anyone.

Despite being their enemy, she found the whole situation completely unfair.

Maybe it truly hadn't been such a wonderful, terrific, exciting day after all.

---

Abby's entire body stiffened, her eyes sharp, as a whirlwind of emotions began swirling within. She felt a rush of betrayal, anger, and confusion all at once, making her head spin.

Hoagie's jaw dropped, hunching over in disbelief as he slowly turned to gaze at their enemies in a new light.

"The sector Z?" Wally gasped. His face scrunched in thought, counting off his fingers. "Wait, wait, wait…if they're sector Z—the legendary sector Z that went missing, like, a buhmillion-and-a-half years ago—then that means the delightful dorks are…" he trailed off, it all sinking it. His face paled as he looked at the children. "Holy crud. You guys are old!"

The Delightfuls looked at him, unamused, as they slowly clapped their hands. "Look at you, finally getting with the program."

"You knew," Abby said, anger creeping into her voice. Her gaze was heavy on Nigel, and his flinch only emboldened her rage. "You knew they were sector Z this entire time?"

Nigel recoiled, looking away. "I… Numbuh 5, please—"

"You knew and never told me?"

"I-I couldn't tell you! How could I?"

Abby's fists clenched, her nails digging into her palms. Something inside her snapped as she pointed at Kuki. "BUT YOU COULD TELL NUMBUH 3 OF ALL PEOPLE!?"

"Numbuh 5, it's not like that! I found out by accident—hey," Kuki began to explain but stopped, eyes watering as she processed Abby's words. "Wait… w-what do you mean by that?"

Abby paused mid-rant and cringed. She looked at Kuki, immediately wanting to take back her callous remark, but the damage had been done.

The Delightful Children slowly grinned. "Anyone else have a sudden craving for popcorn?"

Abby growled. "Shut up!"

"Oh, pardon me," they said, raising their hands and taking steps back. "Don't let us stop you from completely undermining dear Kuki. Please, pretend we aren't here."

"T-That's not what Numbuh 5 meant!"

"Don't be modest, Abigail. I mean, Nigel only entrusted vital information to free-spirited Kuki Sanban 'of all people' and not his loyal second-in-command," they cooed, batting their prim and proper eyelashes. "It's only natural to feel incensed. To feel betrayed."

"Stop putting words in my mouth!"

"But are we?"

"Can it, ya dorks!" Wally snapped. He stepped up between Kuki and Abby. "They're just tryin' to mess with us. Well, it ain't gonna work!"

"No 'messing' here, Wallabee. Just casual observation," they said off-handedly. They glanced at their nails, picking up bits of dirt as they hid sinister smirks. "It's not every day such an… 'inspiring' sector leader cherry-picks team members to share secrets with."

"So what if it was a secret?" Wally shot back, grinning as if about to trap them in some elaborate 'gotcha!' moment. "If it was really that important, then they woulda told me!"

Their eyes cut to the boy at once. "But they didn't, did they?"

Wally opened his mouth to respond, only to slam it shut. His brows furrowed in thought. "Well, m-maybe they jus' decided it wasn't, uh…" His expression became sheepish. Despite the situation, he turned to Kuki with a pleading look in his eyes. "It…it, jus' never came up, right Kooks?"

Kuki began fidgeting.

Hurt slowly seeped into Wally's eyes. "You woulda told me, r-right?"

His sad, puppy dog eyes were tearing her to pieces. She wanted to comfort him, reassure him, and brush it off as no big deal. But that would be lying to him, and that was one thing she couldn't bring herself to do. "Wally… I couldn't."

Heartbreak hit him fast and hard. Wally then defaulted to the old reliable: anger. "Oh, so ya didn't trust me? Is that it?"

"Wha – no! It wasn't like that!"

"Then what was it like, Kuki? Was it you thinking you knew best and keeping dumb ol' Wally in the dark?" His face darkened, mind suddenly replaying the incident with the Teen Ninjas not even a week ago. "Was it you going behind my back again, like when you went and had Chad sell us out!?"

"That's enough, Numbuh 4," Nigel said, voice gravelly as he stepped up to the blond boy, glaring him down. "Numbuh 3 was following orders. Simple as that. Now calm. Down."

Wally sneered. "Is that an order, spaceman?"

"It will be if you don't see reason," Nigel hissed. "You're blowing this way out of proportion."

"Oh, that's how it is now, huh?" Abby snapped. "You keep us in the dark about this bombshell? That's cool. Us getting upset about it? Yeah, you're right," she said sarcastically, throwing up her hands. "We're soooo outta line!"

"And where do you get off?" Nigel yelled, directing his anger at Abby. He jabbed a finger at her chest. "You found out about Numbuh 9 and Teen Covert Operations, didn't say a word, and now you're upset with me for keeping secrets!?"

Abby slapped his hand away. "Why's that got your panties in a bunch, boss? You apparently knew about all that anyway! Second-in-command, my ass! How many more secrets did you keep from Numbuh 5?"

"Stop it!" Kuki shouted, face reddening with frustration. "Leave Numbuh 1 alone. You were a Supreme Leader! We just can't blab and gossip about high-level intel. You should know better!"

"That's rich coming from you!" Wally seethed, fists trembling as he got in his so-called girlfriend's personal bubble. "Always defendin' him, trusting him but not your cruddy boyfriend! But that's just what you do, ain't it? Just—just pick and choose which friends you don't wanna break the rules for!"

Fire exploded behind Kuki's eyes, pressing her nose against Wally's, snarling as electricity crackled between their glares. "How dare you! Did you forget how many rules I broke for us? For you? I put everyone—EVERYONE before myself, try to make everyone happy, BUT IT'S NEVER ENOUGH FOR YOU ISN'T IT?"

Abby growled, turning to press her hands on Kuki's shoulders. "Girl, pipe down!"

"NO!" Kuki screeched, tearing Abby's hands away. "You don't get to tell me to be quiet! You who made me Supreme Leader when it became too much for you!You who dismiss me and get mad just because I knew one thing you didn't! You who still thinks of me as some little baby despite EVERYTHING I'VE GIVEN UP!"

Nigel blinked, some fury dimming as he noticed the girl began trembling. He went to take her hand. "Kuki, please just—"

"Shut up, shut! UP!" She snapped, arms pinwheeling in a desperate attempt to gain distance. She heaved, literal embers exuding with each breath. "You always do this! ALL OF YOU! Try and coddle me like some—some three-year-old, yet expect me to shoulder all your secrets and worries with a smile! I kept my mouth shut about sector Z, but that was wrong. I tried to be the big kid and get Abby to see the reason, but that was wrong. I do everything I can to protect and prop up my boyfriend, but that was wrong, wrong, WRONG!" She began pulling fist-fulls of her hair, angry tears staining her cheeks as she stomped about. "SILLY LITTLE KUKI JUST DOES EVERYTHING WRONG!"

Hoagie nervously fiddled with his hands as his friends broke down and started screaming at each others' throats. The volume and hot animosity in the air called forth painful memories, ones akin to his grandma yelling and smacking around for daring to speak his mind. All at once, he shrunk in on himself, slowly shutting down as his team began crumbling right before him.

But a low snicker cut through his haze. Sure enough, there they were: The Delightful Children, standing smug and self-satisfied as they watched the chaos unfold before them. The logical part of his mind kicked into overdrive, begging him to see what was happening. Then, finally, it clicked.

The night had been long.

The night had been full of terrors, pain, and rivers of tears.

They had already suffered a great loss—they had lost Joaquin.

Their dear little hamster who gave his life for them. The wound was still fresh, still oozing, and just like sharks, the Delightful Children were out for their blood.

"G-Guys, stop!" he said, voice shaky as he waved his arms. "Don't you see? T-they're just turning us against each other like they always do!"

"But that's the beauty of it, Hogaie; we're not doing anything!" the Delightful Children laughed. It was enough to halt the bickering, and they relished in the fury simmering beneath the surface. "We're simply standing back, giving you ample time to air out your grievances and reveal yourselves as the fools you truly are."

Wally snarled. "You losers think you're so smart, dontcha?"

"It doesn't take a degree to figure you lot out," they replied, their voices dripping with contempt. "The 'great and illustrious sector V,' tearing themselves limb from limb the moment their fragile egos are bruised. It's shameful. Here you are, given the wonderful joy of stepping closer to glorious adulthood, and what do you do? Act like upstanding adolescents? No, you just continue to cling to childish sentiments and squabble like the self-righteous little brats you are!" They scoffed. "It's downright sickening. You have what we covet, and you just waste it. All it took was one little secret to expose you frauds for what you truly are: a deluded dissident blinded by his own self-importance."

Nigel shook with rage, his teeth grinding together. His hands were trembling at his sides, barely containing his fury.

"A doofus too meek and cowardly to fight his own battles."

Hoagie gulped, shrinking back, his eyes darting to the ground. He felt a knot tightening in his stomach.

"A dumb, rabid runt destined for a juvenile detention center—at best."

Wally snarled louder, crackling his knuckles in a vain attempt to intimidate.

"A second-rate leader forever stuck in the shadows of those better than her."

Abby growled, her fists clenching at her sides, trying to keep her composure.

"And then there's you," they said, leaning and cooing towards Kuki. Their voices dropped to a cruel whisper. "A pathetic people pleaser who needs to live in a constant land of make-believe to cope with the cold, hard reality that you're just a desperate, sad little girl who hides behind her toys and rainbows to mask how useless she truly is!"

Kuki's eyes widened…

---

She remembered the day it happened. The day the grove fell. The day they lost Hoagie to some new form of delightfulization.

The day when she proved how utterly useless she was.

Kuki walked into her home in a listless trance. Exhaustion bogged down her bones, but it was not from barely surviving the grove burning down— "Your fault."—it was not from failing to pull Hoagie back from the brink before making the call to decommission him—"Your fault"— and it was not from working seventy-two hours straight to attend to all the badly injured survivors—"You fault, your fault, your fault!".

No, her exhaustion came from the soul. How, deep down inside, she failed to do anything right. How she was an utter disgrace.

A failure.

"Well, look who decided to come home," was the shrill response. Kuki looked over to see Mushi scribbling away with her crayons in the living room in front of the television. After agreeing to come home after running away with King Sandy, the girl had been on her best behavior. Her five consecutive life groundings had been reduced back to one, with television privileges slowly being re-instated, though under the clause that the program must be educational.

Which probably explains the howler monkey documentary airing right now.

"Geez, what happened to you? Go on a date with a zombie or something?" Mushi intoned, curiously looking over Kuki's current disheveled uniform. "Spill ketchup over yourself?"

With hollow eyes, she looked at the stain on her nurse blouse, a cold feeling skittering from her stomach. It wasn't ketchup. No, it was—

"I…" Kuki said, voice shaking as she swallowed the grief and tried to pretend that, hey, maybe it WAS ketchup. Numbuh Eighty-Three did make her eat that sandwich after all. Kuki trembled as she found her voice. "Just had…a doozy of a shift."

"Well, why don't you go play with your friends, since you WUUUUV them so much!" Mushi jeered, jadedly turning back to her drawing. When Kuki didn't budge, she hunkered down further. "Leave me alone."

Kuki's lips trembled before she forced them to stop.

No, it would be fine. She wouldn't break down and cry like some useless—

Kuki scrambled to the kitchen, relived to see her dad at the counter, preparing dinner. Without thinking, she went up and tugged at his apron. "Dad, c-can I talk to you?"

"Not now, daughter," Kani snapped, taking delicate, slow cuts of vegetables on the cutting board. "I am preparing stir-fry. The vegetables must be PERFECTLY sliced for an even saute. The garlic cloves? FINELY minced to pair with the sauce. And the green onions and sesame seeds must be FLAWLESS to make a most excellent garnish," he grumbled, agitated sweat beading across his brow. "To serve my family a healthy and perfectly balanced meal, I require COMPLETE AND UTTER concentration! There will be time for your chattering at the table."

An uncontrollable shiver ran through her. She could tell he was on the verge of a tantrum. Her dad had tells. But something festered inside of her. Something she couldn't stand anymore. "B-But Dad—"

"LA LA LA! Can't hear you!" he raged, slamming his cutting hand against the counter in a fit. His emotions getting the best of him, he crudely shooed her away. "Go ask your mother!"

And go to ask her mother she did. Kuki ran down the hall to her mother's home office, throat tightening and the world spinning. Something in her was taut, and something in her felt ready to snap.

Sure, her mother was uptight. Sure, she could be cold if the wrong mood struck.

But she had her moments. She had her special smiles and hugs, even if they didn't come as often.

She was her Mama. She would understand. She would. She had to,

With quaking hands, Kuki rubbed away tears as she opened the door, ignoring the 'do not disturb' sign. "M-Mama?"

"What is it, daughter?" the frigid tone made her flinch. Sure enough, there was her mother, lost in her work as they tapped away at her computer. Genki sighed as she pinched her nose. "Is it about the new doll? I assure you, I will buy it on my next paycheck. Now if that's all—"

"N-No, it's not that," Kuki whimpered. "I—can we talk? Pretty please?"

Genki's fingerstrokes against the keyboard grew harsher the longer she was in her presence. Kuki could feel the irritation rolling off her mother; it only fed that demon inside that was itching to be free. "I must finish these annual reports for Mr. Boss, or there will be no more dolls, daughter. We shall talk at dinner."

Kuki didn't think she could wait until dinner. No, Kuki wasn't sure how much longer she could wait in his stuffy house any longer. Through hot panic, she tried once more, "M-M-Mama, please—"

"Not now, Kuki, I'm busy," Genki clipped as she growled. Irritation at its height, the adult woman turned her back on her child. "Why don't you go do something useful?"

Kuki remembered her pupils shrinking to tiny pinpoint dots as the sentence ate away at her. Useful. Useful. Useful.

Useful would've saved her kids and hamsters.

Useful would've stopped Father.

Useful would've been able to heal Hoagie.

Useful could have solved so many problems for all the people she loved and cared about. Useful could have made it to where her family actually gave a damn.

…but she wasn't useful.

No.

Not useful at all.

Kuki dissociated, watching from above as she screamed. She watched as she lost control of the puppet, and her body curled up onto the floor. She viewed outside of herself as her nails started tearing into her skin, her mother clutching her in a terrified panic.

She remembered Genki sobbing as she scrambled for her cell phone to dial 9-1-1.

Kuki could only marvel at how useless she was.

---

…then those eyes narrowed into fiery slits.

With a primal scream, Kuki launched herself at the Delightful Children, fists flying in a blind rage. Her friends stood in shock, too stunned to react.

The Delightful Children merely laughed, easily dodging her wild attacks. They moved with eerie grace, as if ballet dancing, and with a swift motion, one of them smacked Kuki down to the ground. She landed hard, gasping for breath, tears of frustration and anger streaming down her face.

"Struck a nerve, did we?" they sneered, looking down at her with cold, pitiless eyes. With a unified chuckle, Bruce raised his hands and clapped.

Beneath the Delightful Children, a podium rose and propelled them into the air as the ground rumbled ominously. The manicured lawn of the Delightful Manor split open, revealing a sinister array of traps and obstacles. Giant, waxen candles erupted from the earth, crackling with electricity at their tips. These candles began to connect with each other, forming a deadly lightning chain that encircled sector V, forcing them to dodge and weave to avoid electrocution.

From on high, the Delightful Children gloated, their faces illuminated with malicious glee. They slowly spread their arms, motioning to their grand maze of death. "What we need is a bit of fun to break up this tension. After all, it is a party. And what's a party without games?"

Summoned by their words, oversized party poppers bloomed around Nigel and the rest of sector V, creating a treacherous minefield that stretched out before them.

"So, in honor of our esteemed guest," they growled. Their fingers twitched eagerly. "Let's kick things off with an old favorite—"

Nigel's eyes widened as the party-popper mines trembled.

"—Pin the SWORDS through the NIGEL!"

Around him, poppers exploded, a swarm of swords soaring toward him. Nigel dove forward, flipping through a hail of steel and using his hands to toss himself to safety. His mind flashed back to the Delightful Children's cruel words, each insult flaring like an old wound. His movements were cautious but erratic, his skills faltering under the weight of their barbs.

"Spread out! Evasive maneuvers!" he barked to his team, his voice strained with urgency.

Wally, normally swift and sure-footed, hesitated as doubt crept into his mind. He dodged a swinging pendulum with a clumsy stumble just as Nigel's command cut through the air. Something in him bristled, stubbornly resisting the order to snap, "Screw that! Let's just bum-rush the creeps!"

Nigel back-flipped, narrowly avoiding a sword as it nicked his forearm. The scratch, combined with Wally's rejection of his lead, had him seeing red. "Numbuh 4, you idiot! Just listen to me!"

Abby, usually the strategist, found herself second-guessing her decisions as she weaved through the death trap. Her eyes caught Hoagie struggling, and her instructions came out sharper than intended. Frustration laced her tone as she directed him around a maze of traps: "Numbuh 2, are you blind? Watch your step!"

Hoagie nearly tripped, distracted by the technical challenge of disarming a cluster of explosive party-poppers, and fumbled with the wires. His fingers trembled as he worked, flinching under Abby's tone. "I-I'm doing my best!"

Kuki, still seething from the Delightful Children's mocking, launched herself into the fray with reckless abandon. Robotic garden gnomes surrounded her, and her fists flew in a blind rage, each punch fueled by a deep-rooted anger. She darted between foes and obstacles, narrowly avoiding a burst of confetti that exploded into a cloud of searing goop.

Above them, the Delightful Children watched with cold amusement, their laughter cutting through the chaos like a knife. "What a pitiful display of incompetence," they sneered. "Is this the best you can do?"

With an ear-ringing screech, Kuki bellowed fire as her nail dug into a candle. Electricity tingled her skin, sending her hair on end, but she pushed through it all, bitter anger fueling her move as she leaped towards the children swinging.

The Delightful Children chuckled. David passed the umbrella to Alessandra as they shifted formation. She closed it and immediately used it to parry Kuki's savage strikes.

Lightning danced around the sky, casting a menacing shadow over Kuki. Her irisis burned with rage, her furious strikes and hisses giving her the visage of a furious Oni on a rampage. Each slash was violent. Each thrust was lethal. Any thread of control Kuki once had vanished. She lost herself to her single-minded effort to pummel her foes to oblivion.

In contrast, the Delightful Children mildly ambled about the podium, covering their yawns. With deft juts and flicks of the wrist, Alessandra matched Kuki blow for blow. Her stance was solid, not a step out of place. Her siblings huddled close, admiring her unbreakable defense as she whittled down Kuki bit by bit.

"You really should consider fencing lessons," they dimly noted. Alessandra flicked her eyes to Constance, who deviously smirked. "Your form is atrocious."

With a quick swing, Alessandra rapped the umbrella against Kuki's wrist, allowing Constance to wrest control of the candle. Constance thrust the tip into Kuki's chest, her electrified body reflecting in the Delightfuls' soulless eyes. Alessandra pressed the umbrella's hilt, its canopy unfurling and bouncing Kuki off the podium.

The girl crashed into the wet ground, mud coating her armor while her body twitched off the remnants of the lightning. Arms trembling, she slowly got to her knees. The shock stunned her, but that didn't stop her from sending up a vicious snarl.

The Delightful Children laughed at her failed intimidation, the umbrella twirling carefree between their fingers. "This is almost too easy! Honestly, we might as well retire for an early-morning nap. You dummies will kill yourselves before we even get the chance."

Kuki screamed, "YOU'RE WRONG!"

With a wry wiggle of their brows, the Delightful Children leaned forward, dramatically gesturing to the tragedy playing out before their eyes. "Oh? It would seem we are, unfortunately, right."

Falling for the taunt, Kuki snapped her gaze to whatever they were pointing at. A snap of cold, more chilling than the rain pelting her face, snapped her from her rage, a strangled gasp erupting at what she saw.

Back in the heart of the candle-lit death trap, her friends were struggling. Nigel was scrambling to avoid impalement while Wally was assaulted by stray arcs of lightning. Abby's face was tense, biting back cursing as she struggled to reload her BIRDIE while kicking off killer-garden gnomes, and poor Hoagie's expression was frantic as he went about disabling a never-ending array of traps.

But what struck her more was how they acted. Nigel and Wally were snapping at each other, each trying to dominate command. Stress had Abby barking at Hoagie, the portly boy a nervous wreck as he went prone to avoid a pendulum held aloft by drones decorated with party streamers.

"Alas, it was inevitable." She looked back up the Delightfuls, the group shrugging. "When you're held together by flimsy idealism and the power of friendship," they gagged, "this is the only end result. Childish hopes and dreams amount to nothing, as you can clearly see."

Tears burned her vision as Kuki glared at the ground. Ugly emotions she had always suppressed forced their way up like bile. Her fingers ran wild through her hair. The sounds of the storm were white noise to the overwhelming vitriol she could hear her friends spewing at each other. After everything they had been through—after every obstacle they had overcome, was this what they truly amounted to?

The dream of sector V, together again—was it… was it silly of her to think it would be any more than that? A stupid little dream?

A stupid kiddie dream.

A dream imagined by a useless little girl.

"Why?" Kuki demanded, her voice trembling with fury. She straightened up, her eyes blazing as she faced the Delightful Children."Why are you doing this!?"

Their reply was a callous snort, slowly casting an indifferent gaze on the Delightful Manor.

Their home.

Their…

"Trust me," they said, voices cold. "We're doing you a favor…"

---

eight days before Numbuh Point Two's 13th Birthday

It started as a wonderful day. A beautiful day. An absolutely fatuous day. The type of day where you wake up ready to seize the world by the pearls!

The keyword was that was how it started.

"Mmmmmm," a young operative happily moaned, munching away at her treat. "This is the most yummylicious cake in the history of ever!"

"Just wait until next year's cake," David said with a wink. The girl giggled, walking away with her plate. The boy puffed his chest proudly, cupping his hands over his mouth. "Okay, who's next?"

He was greeted by a chorus of 'me, me, me, me, me!'s as operatives far and wide crowded around the table.

Sector Z's treehouse was bursting with activity. Operatives from every branch of the Kids Next Door—and even kids from outside the Kids Next Door—had gathered for the event everyone and their kid brother marked their calendars for: the famous Sharing of Sector Z's Super Ultra Delicious Birthday Cake.

It only happens once a year!

…okay, five times a year, but who's counting?

Wearing a cute sundress, Rebecca lightly laughed as kids scrambled to hold their place in line. The Supreme Leader looked around, proud to see some of her Moonbase staff helping Constance and Bruce back in a tanker of root beer. Lenny was tucked in the corner, carefully scanning the birthday presents for dangers. After that one nasty stink-bomb fiasco, they would not be caught unawares again. She squinted her eyes. Okay, so that accounted for four of them, but where was—

"Thought I'd find you here."

Rebecca greeted the newcomer with a smile. "I'm sure you had to search far and wide, Numbuh Nine-Nine."

Jerome offered a lazy salute. "Was about to call in an Amber Alert and everything, sir."

"Oh, haha," Rebecca laughed in good nature. She eyed the boy, eyes alight with noticeable awe. "And whoa, look at you. Really dressed up to the nines, eh?"

"Ugh, don't remind me," the boy groaned. He grimaced as he picked at his tuxedo and red bow tie. "Pops made me wear this stupid thing to his graduation. Said it was his when he was my age. Bad enough I had to hang out around a bunch of stupid pigs, but now they're gonna remember me lookin' like a square!"

"Hey, I think you look good," she said. Eyes wide, she blushed and quickly changed subjects. "Er, w-why didn't you change before coming?"

"Wanted to try and get ahead of the cake line. Some of us don't get to call Supreme Dibs," he said wryly, motioning to her plate. Wiggling her brows, she made a show of taking a huge bite of her slice while secretly thankful he missed her slip. He stuck his tongue out at her, then sighed as he saw the line taking up the entirety of Sector Z hanger. "But so much for that idea. Have to be faster than a New York minute to beat this crowd."

Rebecca rolled her eyes. "Yeah, yeah, you're from NYC. We get it, city boy."

Jerome flashed a cocky grin, flipping up the collar of his tux. "Gotta rep my home turf, dollface."

She smirked and whispered, "New Jersey."

"Ssssssh!" he panicked, covering her mouth. After checking no one had heard, he whined. "Stop tryin' to expose me."

"Then stop calling me dollface," she dryly warned. He shuffled, embarrassed, and cast a longing look at the almost empty cake tray behind David. Rebecca followed his eyes, chuckled, and took pity on him. "Oh, don't be a baby. Here."

She split the remainder of her slice. Using her fork, she balanced it toward Jerome, pausing as she searched for a spare plate. Jerome, however, happily gasped, and goblin instinct won over as he chomped down on the fork. Rebecca gave him a deadpan stare. He smiled around the fork. She broke down into a chuckle fit.

"Ooooooh, indirect kiss!" was the tease from two young cadets nearby. Then sprinted off, covering their giggles as they cried, "Cooties! Cooties! Cooties!"

Both Jerome and Rebecca blushed, stepping a good two feet away from one another and avoiding eye contact. The boy hastily swallowed the cake, coughing into his hand while the girl rattled her fork against her plate, suddenly very interested in the shade of the leaves.

"Geronimo!"

Without warning, something crashed through the canopy. An ice cream carton the size of an elephant crashed into the center of the room, kicking up dust and icy mist. It swayed before finally toppling over, the cover rolling off as an avalanche of ice-creamy goodness spilled onto the floor.

From the depths of the carton, out came Alessandra, expertly surfing across the moose track mix with a makeshift snowboard. She skidded to a halt, grinning as she kicked up her board, catching it in one hand while holding up a waffle con with the other. "WHO WANTS ICE CREAM?"

The mass of operatives around the cake table squealed, the pastry immediately forgotten as they waddled over to dive headfirst into the new dessert. From behind the counter, David slumped with relief, the cake line now becoming much more manageable as he dolled out the last remaining pieces.

Jerome's jaw dropped at sector Z's leader's incredible stunt. Rebecca, meanwhile, grinned, bouncing giggly until she couldn't take it anymore. "Alessandra!"

Alessandra looked over, pulling up her snow goggles just in time to laugh and catch Rebecca. She twirled the younger girl around, pulling her into a tight hug. "'Becca, you made it!"

"I make it every year, ya dork," Rebecca grinned as she was put down. Face flushed with excitement, she playfully poked the older girl's chest. "I was beginning to wonder if you would make it! You're late."

"A sector leader is never late. She arrives precisely at the coolest moment," Alessandra shrugged as she swept off bits of sherbet from her coat. "Had to get the back-up sweets for when the cake runs dry. 'Sides, the Mountain of the Greatest-Ever Flavors has killer half-pipes this time of year. Wanted to sneak some shredding in."

"Whoa, you snowboard?" Jerome said, walking up to admire the living legend. "As if you couldn't get any cooler!"

"You're gonna make me blush, Nine-Nine," Alessandra chuckled as she took off her helmet. She shook her head, dirt blonde locks flying free. "Should tag along next time so I can show ya some pointers. I always carry a spare brain bucket."

Being invited to snowboard with the Numbuh Point Three was already its own kind of high, but Jerome's heart nearly exploded from his chest as he processed that first bit. "Hold up…you remember me?"

"Kinda hard to forget the guy who helped us save the Moonbase," Alessandra said, walking up to shake his hand. Her smile softened as his bravery replayed in her mind. "If it wasn't for that last stunt you pulled, I…we would lost Numbuh Beyond."

Thoughts of never washing the hand she shook again were tossed out as a serious look splashed across his face. "I'd never let anything happen to Rebecca."

Alessandra quirked a brow.

"…oh! 'C-Cause she's the Supreme Leader and stuff…"

"Uh huh," Alessandra muttered with a knowing smirk. Pausing for a second, she looked him up and down, whistled, and snapped her fingers. "Nice threads, by the way. They look good on you."

"Hey, thanks!" Jerome smiled a dopey smile, taking a bit more care into his tuxedo than before. "You're the first person to say so. Well, 'sides those lame adults, but they don't count. Man, my cheeks are getting sore just remembering all that pinching I had to fight through…"

Despite herself, Rebecca used her fork to take a pointed bite of her cake slice, cheeks puffing with a smidgen of unfounded jealousy. She swallowed, then looked to the side as she muttered, "I said you looked good…"

Jerome blinked as he caught that. He looked over, trying to stomp down the hopeful look stretching across his face. "Uh, sorry, what was that?"

Rebecca blushed. "N-Nuthin'!" However, out of the corner of her eyes, she saw Alessandra give her an encouraging look before deciding to step off to the side. Butterflies fluttering in her chest, Rebecca threw caution to the wind and took a step toward the boy. "Um, well, actually—"

Beep beep!

"Hold that thought, it's the Help-Me! Hotline," Jerome stiffened, holding up a finger as his ear-communicator buzzed. He pressed his finger to his lobe, eyes narrowing as he listened. "Numbuh Nine-Nine. Talk to me."

Rebecca watched as Jerome listened intently, then saw his entire face light up like the Fourth of July. "A new assignment? I'm so down, man! Back-up? Nah, I got it, no sweat! End transmission." He turned to give Rebecca a quick salute as he started backing away. "Have to take a rain check, sir. Duty calls, and I've been itching for some action!"

Rebecca opened for mouth, then sighed, deciding against whatever she had planned to say. Instead, she forced a professional smile. "Knock 'em dead, soldier."

Jerome smirked as he turned on his heel, swiping an empty waffle cone from an unsuspecting kid. He ignored the boy's cries, curling up a hearty scoop of Alessandra's moose track ice cream before going into a swan dive out of the open hangar. His JETABOOTS roared to life, and he rocketed away toward the horizon.

Alessandra looked up, shaking her head. "Mission always comes first for that kid, huh?"

Rebecca watched the smoke trail fizzle out, fixated on the spot in the sky Jerome used to occupy. "Model Kids Next Door operative right there. One of my best…"

Noticing how her friend's eyes lingered on the sky, Alessandra playfully nudged her. "Jerome and Rebecca, sittin' in a tree…"

"Stop it, Numbuh 0.3." Alessandra frowned, taken aback by the soft yet stern order. Rebecca closed her eyes, inhaling through her nose as she stood a bit straighter. "I'm the Supreme Leader. It's…super unprofessional."

"Sir, with all due respect: we're kids. When have we cared about being professional?" Alessandra slid in front of the younger girl, eyes laced with concern. "And don't you 'Numbuh 0.3' me. What's wrong?"

"Nothing is wrong," Rebecca tried to reassure, though there was a melancholic lilt to her voice. "Jerome…Numbuh Nine-Nine's first love is the Kids Next Door, and you know what? I should follow his example. With all my responsibilities and kids that need me, it's unfair to get so distracted by some silly crush."

Alessandra smirked. "You admit there is a crush. Progress."

"Alessandra…can we please just drop this?"

Knowing her limits, the sector Z leader rested her hand on Rebecca's shoulder and gave it a comfortable squeeze. "Consider it dropped."

Rebecca smiled in gratitude as they returned to supervising the party. Her eyes traveled to the ice cream pit. "So…what really kept you? Even you're not this fashionably late."

"Eh, was following a dead-end tip from an ousted Dessert Monk about the Fourth Flavor," Alessandra groaned, slumping in shame. Her fists clenched. "I swear, I thought I would find it this time!"

Rebecca patted her back sympathetically. "Hey, chin up. I'm sure you'll find it. You got time."

"Yeah, but I wanted to find it for today," Alessandra confessed, her eyes landing on David. She watched as he passed another plate of cake along. He caught her staring and gave an excited wave. She smiled back, returning it with subdued enthusiasm. "David loves cake and ice cream. To share it and the fourth flavor for his last official KND Birthday? It would've meant the world to him…"

Rebecca swallowed a lump of grief at the impending date. "There's…there's still time. You guys moved his cake-sharing day up. Maybe you can find it before the actual day. I could pull some strings and give you official mission resources."

"No, he wouldn't want that," Alessandra softly declined. "There's gonna be enough tears at the ceremony. It's why he wanted to do this earlier…share one last, pure happy memory with everyone before…"

Rebecca fiddled anxiously with her fork. "A-About his decommissioning—"

"It's gonna be fine, I know," Alessandra reassured, and Rebecca couldn't help but feel…odd at how confident Alessandra sounded. Before she could press further, the older girl grinned a devious grin. "Now, back this so-called 'crush' of yours…"

Rebecca whined. "You agreed to drop it!"

"And now I've decided to pick it back up," Alessandra pressed. "C'mon, 'Becca! Maybe it's the root beer talkin', but I seriously think you should stop worryin' about what everyone is gonna think and live a little. You've already given up, like, almost all of your childhood for everyone else. Take something for yourself!"

"It's not that simple," she grumbled. "I'm the Supreme Leader."

Alessandra scoffed. "Don't tell me: there's some stupid rule about not being able to like-like your operatives?"

"No, ninety percent of our rank and file believing in cooties kinda renders that point moot, thankfully," Rebecca airily commented. "But honestly? It should be a rule. A Supreme Leader should never play favorites."

"But you've always been fair."

"And I'm going to stay that way. By not asking out a field operative and giving him special treatment."

Alessandra dryly said, "Sir, you already give him special treatment. I've seen you let him get away with things you'd have Global Command running laps around the Arctic Base for."

"W-Which is why I should grow up and nip this in the bud!" Rebecca fumed, agitation creeping into her tone. Pfft. Creeping—she was already beyond agitated; who was she fooling? "Why do you insist on getting on my case about this!?"

Alessandra responded with a soft look. "I just want you to be happy, Rebecca."

Rebecca stared at Alessandra, her heart heavy. She wanted to be happy too, but it wasn't that simple.

"I know you do, Alessandra. And I appreciate it. But my happiness has to come second to the Kids Next Door. I'm the Supreme Leader. I have to think about what's best for everyone, not just myself."

Alessandra sighed, looking defeated. "I get it, 'Becca. I really do. But don't forget that you're still a kid too. You deserve to have some happiness."

Rebecca nodded, but she couldn't shake the sense of responsibility weighing down on her. She turned away, lost in thought.

She remembered the first time she met Jerome, back in kindergarten. They had been fast friends, always there for each other through thick and thin. Jerome had been her rock, especially during the tough times. He was the one who had made her laugh when she felt like crying, who had stood by her side no matter what.

Her mind wandered to their graduation from the Cadets Next Door. When the last Supreme Leader's successor got cold feet and started an unprompted game of TAG.

It had been chaos. Pure and total anarchy. And somehow, during the last hour, she had become it.

In those last moments of the tag game, she had been so scared. Becoming the Supreme Leader had seemed like an insurmountable challenge. Heck, it was. She had just graduated! There was no way she could do it! She remembered having a panic attack. She remembered wanting to throw up.

She remember when she did throw up. Gross.

But then, Jerome, in his typical selfless way, demanded that she tag him so she wouldn't have to bear the burden alone.

That moment had been a turning point for her. Jerome's selflessness had inspired her to step up to take on the role of Supreme Leader so she could be there for other kids, just like Jerome had been there for her.

But now, as Supreme Leader, she had to think of everyone, not just one person. She couldn't bind herself to Jerome, no matter how much she wanted to. It wouldn't be fair to him or to the other operatives. She had to remain impartial, to put the needs of the many above her own desires.

She sighed, turning back to Alessandra. "Sometimes, other people's happiness has to come before our own. For as long as I'm Supreme Leader, that's just how it has to be."

Alessandra looked at her with a mix of admiration and sadness. "You could…always tag someone else, y'know. You've done so much. Proved them all wrong. No one would blame you."

Rebecca shook her head with a smile. "Nah. When I was sworn in, I made a promise to protect kids everywhere. I'm going to keep that promise until the day I turn 13. I'm stubborn that way."

"Hey, you said it. Not me," Alessandra lightly joked. She looked up to the canopy in thought. "I guess there's always after, right? Definitely won't have to worry about being Supreme Leader anymore."

Rebecca sighed. "From the moment I graduated, my head has been filled with nothing but super, ultra important secret-y-secret intel, that I worry I won't even remember my own name, much less Jerome…"

Of all the responses Rebecca was expecting, it most certainly wasn't Alessandra wryly chuckling before leaning in to wink and whisper. "Don't be so sure."

An uneasy feeling crawled up Rebecca's spine. Alessandra was looking at her like she knew something. Knew some big juicy inside joke they were both in on. Right as she was about to probe, a commotion from the cake table vied for their attention.

"THAT'S NOT FAIR!"

Over by the table, David had his arms crossed, frowning down at an operative throwing a tantrum. Behind the tall brunette, the once plentiful cake tray had nary a crumb left. Huddled, scared beside David was another boy, whimpering as he held a plate containing a slice of coveted cake.

"That's not fair!" the upset operative cried again. He pointed at the other boy, who flinched as he snarled. "I've been waiting in line all. Day! He wasn't even in line. Why does HE get the last slice?"

"You know the rules, kid," David said, eyes flickering to the small boy beside him.

The boy beside David trembled slightly, clutching his plate of cake like it was the most precious thing in the world. David could tell by the boy's ragged clothes, the slightly skinnier frame, and the unspoken fear hiding behind his eyes that this kid was homeless, just like him once.

It was the fear of not knowing when you'd get your next meal, the fear that gnawed at you and made every bite of food feel like it could be your last.

David glanced back at the upset operative. "Some special kids get first dibs."

The operative scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Special kids? We all know what that means." His eyes narrowed at the smaller boy. "You think you're better than us just because you don't have a mommy or daddy? You think that's fair?"

The homeless boy sniffled, looking down at his cake. The taunts were too much, and he turned and bolted, tears streaming down his face.

David's blood boiled. "Hey!" he shouted, stepping forward. "You apologize right now."

The operative just crossed his arms defiantly. "Why should I? You gave away the last piece of cake that was supposed to be mine! I followed the rules! I even let someone skip ahead of me! IT'S NOT FAIR!"

David gritted his teeth. "You'll get the first slice of the next cake, but only if you apologize."

The operative's eyes flickered with interest for a moment before his expression hardened again. "I'm not apologizing just because you make up stupid rules! And why should I listen to you anyway? You're almost a teenager!"

The words stung, a reminder of the impending reality David was trying so hard to ignore. He clenched his fists, trying to stay calm. "Look, it's about doing the right thing."

The operative sneered. "The right thing? Says the guy who's practically a teenager already. How do we know you're not going to turn into one of them?"

David snapped. He grabbed the kid by his collar, shaking him roughly. "You no-good, stupid brat! You have no idea what it's like! No idea at all!"

The room fell silent.

Every eye was on David, the tension thick and heavy.

In that moment, he really didsound just like a teenager, the very thing they all feared.

The operative stared up at him, wide-eyed and trembling.

Rebecca stepped forward, her voice calm but firm. "Numbuh 0.2, let him go."

David froze, then slowly released the operative, who stumbled back, looking more shocked than scared. Rebecca's heart ached to see David like this, the pressure of his upcoming birthday and the weight of his past combining to push him to the edge.

"Everyone, the party is over," Rebecca announced, trying to keep her voice steady. "Please return to your homes."

The kids began to disperse, murmuring among themselves and casting glances at David as they went. He stood there, feeling the weight of their stares, the guilt and shame washing over him.

Rebecca walked over, looking up at him. "David..."

He shook his head, tears brimming in his eyes. "I'm sorry, sir. I didn't mean to…"

She held his hand reassuringly. "I know you didn't."

The other members of sector Z walked up, immediately coming to their teammate's side. Bruce clenched his fists, glaring at where the uppity operative had run off. "Little twerp got off easy if you ask me."

Rebecca shot him a scolding glare. "I didn't ask you, Numbuh 0.1"

Constance spluttered. "But what he said wasn't right!"

"And how Numbuh 0.2 reacted didn't make it any better," she said. "You guys are the big kids. You have to set the example."

"Numbuh Beyond is right," Alessandra stepped up. She folded her hands behind her back and shared a nod with her Supreme Leader before saying, "I know emotions are running high, but we cannot afford to fly off the handle. Tensions between kids and teenagers are bad enough without us adding fuel to the fire."

Constance and Bruce protested, "But—"

"They're right, guys," David interrupted. He stood tall and saluted. "Supreme Leader, sir. It won't happen again. If it helps, I'm willing to meet with the operative in question and apologize and give up my super ultra rare Yipper Card #007 as appeasement."

"At ease, Numbuh 0.2. I appreciate the sentiment, but that won't be necessary. I'll handle it," she then smirked. "'Sides, I know the card's a staple of your squadron right now."

"Oh, thank Zero," David sighed in relief. He looked around, noting the room was empty apart from them. He scratched the back of his neck and quietly said. "Sure hope this little kerfuffle doesn't hurt my chances, sir. Heh heh."

Rebecca blinked. "Chances?"

Constance and Bruce started snickering. Lenny made an exaggerated wink as he made a slow motion of sealing his lips.

Rebecca was failing to see the humor. "Guys, what the crud is going on?"

"Knock it off, team, this is serious," Alessandra scolded, her four friends straightening up. Rebecca released a breath she didn't know she was holding. She was starting to get freaked out. However, Alessandra leaned in closely, whispering out of the side of her mouth, "Don't worry, sir. We won't tell anyone. Scout's honor."

Okay, scratch that. She was getting freaked out. "Tell anyone about what?"

"You know," Alessandra trailed off, making gestures. When Rebecca didn't pick up the lingo, she rolled her eyes and whispered in her ear. "About the teen covert ops."

Rebecca's eyes widened.

"Computer!" she shouted, startling all of sector Z. "Initiate No-Peeking! Protocol Double-X-J-900."

The five Z veterans were further shocked when the computer responded, "UNDER WHAT AUTHORITY?"

Rebecca glared heavily at Alessandra as she said, "I, Supreme Leader Numbuh Beyond, said so."

"BOSSY TONE RECOGNIZED. INITIATING NO-PEEKING! PROTOCOL."

The hangar doors slammed shut with a resounding thud, and the whir of mechanical locks echoed through the treehouse. Steel shutters descended over the windows, and the lights dimmed to a muted glow. The room's atmosphere shifted from a festive party space to a fortified bunker.

Sector Z members exchanged anxious glances, their once-familiar home suddenly feeling like a prison. Lenny's eyes darted around, Bruce's fists clenched tighter, Constance's breathing quickened, and David's earlier guilt was now mingled with trepidation.

Alessandra was the first to voice their collective fear. "Rebecca, what the heck is going on?"

Rebecca's usually warm demeanor had been replaced with an unyielding sternness. Her eyes were sharp, and her posture was rigid as she looked at each of them in turn. "How do you know about the teen covert ops?"

Alessandra tried to lighten the mood with a chuckle. "C'mon, 'Becca, we're all friends here. No need for—"

"I don't intend to make a habit of repeating myself, Numbuh 0.3." Rebecca's voice was icy, cutting through Alessandra's attempt at humor.

The tension in the room grew palpable. Alessandra swallowed hard, clearly unnerved by Rebecca's tone. "W-We found out by accident. Honest."

Rebecca's eyes narrowed. "Details. Now."

Alessandra's confidence faltered under Rebecca's intense scrutiny. She hesitated, then sighed. "We stumbled across some encrypted files while on a mission. They were marked with some…weird teen insignia. At first, we thought it was a mistake, but the more we dug, the more it made sense."

"Did you try to contact any teen operatives?" Rebecca's voice was cold and almost detached.

Alessandra's eyes widened in disbelief. "No! We wouldn't do that! Rebecca, why are you being like this?"

Rebecca took a step closer, her presence imposing. "This isn't a joke, Numbuh 0.3. This information is highly classified and extremely dangerous. If it gets out, it could compromise the entire Kids Next Door organization. Do you understand that?"

The room fell silent, the weight of Rebecca's words sinking in. Sector Z members were stunned, not just by the information but by the side of Rebecca they had never seen before.

The Supreme Leader's sternness cast a shadow over their friendship, making them question how well they truly knew her.

Alessandra, usually confident and outspoken, was now visibly shaken. "Rebecca, we...we didn't mean any harm. We just...we just wanted to know if there was a way to stay together, even after turning thirteen."

Rebecca's expression softened slightly, but her resolve remained firm. "I understand your intentions, but this isn't about what you want. It's about what's best for the organization and for every kid out there. Sometimes, sacrifices have to be made for the greater good."

David, usually the peacekeeper, stepped forward. "Sir, we didn't mean to cause any trouble. We're loyal to the Kids Next Door and always have been. Please, believe us."

Rebecca looked at him, and for a moment, her stern facade cracked, revealing the inner turmoil she was feeling. She took a deep breath, then nodded. "I believe you, Numbuh 0.2. But this is serious. We can't afford any mistakes. I need your absolute discretion on this. Do I have it?"

The members of Sector Z nodded solemnly, the gravity of the situation sinking in. Rebecca's stern demeanor had driven home the importance of their secrecy, but it had also left a lingering sense of unease among them.

"Of course you do, sir," David said. And then, after some hesitance, "I mean…I'm going to be one myself soon, right?"

Rebecca's eyes softened for a moment before hardening again. "That's not something I can guarantee, David."

David's hopeful expression faltered. "What? But—"

"We thought that's how it was gonna work out," Constance interrupted, eyes wide with disbelief. "We thought you were going to get us all in!"

"I can't promise that," Rebecca said firmly, her voice rising slightly. "There are rules and protocols that even I have to follow."

"This is why you didn't tell us, isn't it?" Lenny asked, his voice trembling. "Because you knew you couldn't get us in…"

Rebecca looked away, unable to meet his eyes. "I was trying to protect you."

"Protect us?" Alessandra's voice was sharp. "We thought we were safe! We thought you had a plan!"

Rebecca was silent.

Alessandra gasped and realized, "You…you don't have a plan…"

"Not yet, but…" Rebecca confessed, her voice cracking. "I'm still trying. You have to trust me."

"Trust you?" Bruce exploded, his face red with anger. "How can we trust you when you keep jerking us around?"

Rebecca's eyes filled with tears. "I'm doing everything I can."

"Everything you can?" Constance demanded, her voice breaking. "We're supposed to just take your word for it? You have a mom and dad to go back to! You have a roof over your head! You have everything we've ever dreamed of! You…you don't understand what's at stake for us! "

"That's not fair," Rebecca whispered, tears streaming down her face. "I'm trying to help you."

"Help us?" Alessandra spat. "You don't know what it's like to be us. To not know where your next meal is coming from. To not have anyone to look out for you. You have no idea what it feels like to be abandoned!"

Rebecca looked at them, her heart breaking. "I do care about you. You're my friends, my family."

"Then prove it!" David shouted. "Get us into the teen covert ops! Give us a future!"

Rebecca shook her head, sobbing. "I can't. I wish I could, but I can't. It…it wouldn't be fair…"

"Fair!? Then what good are you?" Constance shouted. "What good is the Kids Next Door if they can't protect kids like us?"

The room fell silent, the weight of Constance's words hanging in the air. Rebecca felt a sharp pain in her chest, the realization that she was losing them, that the bond they shared was unraveling before her eyes.

"I'm trying," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "I'm trying to do what's right."

"What's right?" Alessandra repeated bitterly. "For who? For us? Or for you?"

Rebecca looked at them, her heart breaking. "For all of us."

"We thought you were different," David said quietly. "But you're just like the rest of them." His eyes were filled with fury and betrayal as he stepped toward Rebecca. "You don't get it, do you?" he shouted, his voice echoing in the confined space. "You don't understand what it's like!"

"David, I—" Rebecca started, but David cut her off.

"You have everything we've ever wanted! A family, a home, safety!" His voice broke, tears streaming down his face. "And you just take it all for granted!"

"I'm trying to help you!" Rebecca screamed back, her own tears falling. "I'm doing everything I can!"

"Liar!" David yelled, the anger surging within him.

He lunged forward, his hand raised to strike.

Rebecca's instincts kicked in. She reacted before she could think, grabbing his arm and shoving him back. In one swift motion, her blaster was in her hand, aimed directly at him.

The other members of Sector Z responded instantly, pulling out their weapons and forming a protective circle around David.

The sight of their weapons pointed at her made Rebecca's heart stop.

The SPICER clattered to the floor, and the realization of what she had done hit her like a ton of bricks.

"No," she whispered, horrified. "I didn't mean to…"

David looked at her with a mixture of fear and betrayal. "You really don't care about us, do you?"

"I do!" Rebecca cried desperation in her voice. "I've been doing this since I was five years old! FIVE! I know how the system works better than any of you. You have to trust me!"

"Trust you? Trust your system?" Constance shouted, her voice shaking with rage. "What good is a broken system if it can't even help the kids who need it most?" She stepped forward, her eyes burning with anger. "This isn't about staying up past bedtime. Or…or getting extra TV time. It's about knowing we won't starve. Knowing Child Protective Services won't tear us apart! B-But that never mattered to you, did it? WE NEVER REALLY MATTERED AT ALL!"

"THAT'S NOT TRUE!" Rebecca's face twisted with fury as she screamed. "You have to believe in me! I will save you! I WILL!"

All at once, the hangar doors leaped open, and the shutters unraveled.

Alessandra, Bruce, Constance, and David looked around, confused.

Rebecca blinked, mouth opening to order the computer to respond.

"G-Go."

Only to snap it shut as her eyes landed on Lenny.

Poor, trembling Lenny as he held up a remote.

"T-This is o-our treehouse. Ours." he stuttered as he held up the remote. "I-I removed your access. Y-You c-can't use it against us. S-So just…just g-go away!"

Rebecca reached out and took a step forward.

Lenny flinched.

A turret fired a warning shot.

"LEEEEEEAAAAAAVE!"

The computer's agonized wail, a robotic stitched-together mismatch of Sector Z's voices, shook Rebecca to her core.

But despite everything, despite how they responded…

…she refused to let them go.

"I WILL find a way to help you," she said, though it came out more like a desperate plea, "I WON'T leave you behind! I promise! Cross my heart and hope to die!"

Without another word, she stormed out of the room, her heart pounding in her chest.

She had tried so hard to protect them, to be their leader. Their friend.

Their family…

…but now she couldn't shake the feeling as if she failed.

As she left, Sector Z stood in stunned silence.

They trusted Rebecca.

They trusted in the Kids Next Door.

But as they watched her go, the betrayal weighed down their hearts as they accepted a truth they had tried so hard to deny.

"S-she lied," Constance broke down first, curling into a ball. Her face was wet as she nibbled on her beret. "She lied, she lied, she lied, she lied…"

"Hey, hey," David tried to comfort her, cradling her in his arms. "It's…it's gonna be—"

"No, it's not," Constance sobbed into his sweater. "It's not!"

"What the crud did she do?" Bruce heaved, hopping mad as he stomped around the floor. He glared up at the computer screen, throwing his carrot nunchucks and shattering the screen. "How the hell did she lock us in our own treehouse!?"

"I-I d-don't know," Lenny mumbled, fiddling with his remote. "B-But I removed her backdoor. S-Scrubbed t-the source c-code super clean."

"How can you be sure?" Bruce growled. "What if she has ANOTHER code, huh!? Ever think of that?"

"I-I DON'T KNOW!" Lenny cried, flinching and cowering down. "I-I d-d-don't k-k-knooooow."

Bruce's anger left him in a flash, and he rushed to embrace and calm the trembling boy, mumbling apologies as Lenny sobbed.

Alessandra looked at her team, eyes devoid of light.

"What should we do? S-should we run away?"

"Where would we go?"

"Maybe…maybe we should calm down. Let everyone cool off and try talking again—"

"Our treehouse shot at her, David! If she comes back, it'll probably be with the entire DOH-DOH Squad!"

"Y-You don't know that! R-Rebecca wouldn't—"

Alessandra's eyes caught a flicker of something. Her feet moved on her own towards her desk.

"How do you know what she would or wouldn't do, huh? Especially since you lost it and attacked her!"

"I…I just…"

As she loomed over her desk, Alessandra stared across it. All her accolades. All her medals. She then stared at her photos. Photos of their gerbils. Photos of them covered in cake after their first sharing event.

Photos of them and Rebecca…

Her heart twisted as she gingerly picked up a picture of her and her beloved Supreme Leader, laughing as they shared ice cream together. Inhaling through her nose, she reached behind the frame and pulled out a card.

A red business card.

"Should you decide to rethink my offer, I'll be waiting for you…"

"Guys!"

Bruce, David, Constance, and Lenny all stopped their anxious bickering and looked up to their leader at once.

Alessandra flipped the card over, eyes slowly reading the address. "…you trust me, right?"

Bruce looked to Constance and Lenny. They all nodded. "Of course we do."

Alessandra set her eyes dead ahead, staring at a hole in the wall. "Good."

David furrowed his brow, catching a glimpse of red in her fingers. After a moment, he carefully asked, "What's the plan, boss?"

Alessandra spared one last look at the photo. The photo of her and Rebecca…

"I'm not letting anyone tear us apart. Not stupid rules. Not the Kids Next Door," she vowed as she made up her mind and closed her eyes. "Not anyone."

…she gently flipped the photo face down.

"…right down the lane."

---

"Yes, a favor," they repeated, burying the memories as they regarded the pathetic child below them. "You can't have your cake and eat it too. We know that all too well," they grumbled, a pointed glare leveled sector V's way. They shook their heads, re-schooling their faces. "You think you lot are friends? Ha! Unstable co-workers at best. Better for us to shatter your illusion of 'one-big-happy-family' than for life to crush your spirit at the end of the line."

"So that's what you think?" Kuki shot back, scandalized. "You think you're helping?"

Their smirks were bone dry as they said, "It's a quick and painless service we provide. At no charge, even."

"You're…you're bananas!"

They merely laughed. "At least we aren't blind to what's real. And the real truth behind sector V is that you're all a bunch of misfits who never should've been put together in the first place."

Kuki's heart clenched, the Delightful Children's words cutting deep. They only repeated nasty rumors she had overheard before. How sector V always screwed up the cake missions. How they utterly botched the KND Global Anniversary at the Grand Canyon. How they couldn't even deliver a stupid pizza to the Moonbase. For every win under their belt, it was followed by an embarrassing show of incompetence. As she overheard their bickering and unraveling behind her, it was hard to think through the anger enabling the Delightful Children's mocking.

But, in a second of clarity, a voice inside her begged her to remember the good times. She remembered when they all came together to turn Numbuh One back into a kid. She remembered when they rallied to help Numbuh Four and stop Madam Margret. She remembered how, together, they managed to completely reverse the direction of their evil alternate-universe counterparts.

Kuki remembered the warmth of her team's camaraderie, the unspoken bond that held them together through thick and thin. She looked back again.

Despite their jeers and crass jabs, she could see Nigel subconsciously shifting his foot, kicking a mine away from Wally as the blond boy unknowingly wailed on a garden gnome that got a little too close to his bald leader.

Despite her snaps and clipped commands, Kuki could see Abby placing herself between Hoagie and the party drones, keeping the boy out of harm's way while Hoagie worked through stress and tension to provide support with his tools and SPORK pack.

Even if frayed, the bonds were still there.

Kuki could still see those moments.

Despite their current discord, those moments were real.

Kuki closed her eyes, inhaling through her nose.

Then, she exploded. "WHAT IS THE MATTER WITH YOU GOOFBALLS!?"

Nigel froze mid-kick.

Wally paused his gnawing of a garden gnome.

Abby blinked in the middle of a reload.

Hoagie slowly peeked his head up from the safety of a trench.

Kuki rolled her eyes, hands flying to her hips as she tapped her foot. "Look, I know we all got upset and acted a bit cuckoo, but we don't have time to be silly right now! We're a team—we're friends! So get your heads out of your butts and start acting like it! We gotta save the world!"

A pregnant pause befell the field, the occasional raindrop crackling against the candle shock fence disrupting the quiet.

"C'mon, guys. We're better than this!" Kuki continued, her voice rising with conviction. "Remember why we're doing this! Remember who we are!"

But the longer no one said anything, and the more they all stared at her as if she had sprouted fairy wings, Kuki's resolve began to waver.

Suddenly, Hoagie puffed his cheeks and stood at his full height. "Numbuh 3's right. This ain't the time to fool around; we got work to do!"

Wally, ever the hothead, let out a battle cry, his focus re-centered by Kuki's words. "Yeah. Who cares if they used to be sector Z? Last I checked, we're fighting the Delightfuls Dorks. Not about to let 'em out of an ass kicking on a technical-cality!"

Abby released a tired sigh, clearing her head of unnecessary distraction as she sent a look Nigel's way. "Sport's gotta point. We can hash out the nitty-gritty later."

Nigel nodded. "And we will, team. For now, let's unwind and take part in our favorite pastime." His lips worked into a smirk, his comrades returning it as they looked ahead to their foes. "Kicking their delightful butts up and down the lane."

With a newfound sense of purpose, Sector V moved as one. Nigel's commands were crisp and clear, Wally's movements swift and precise. Abby's shots were sharp, and Hoagie's technical skills shone through. And Kuki, fueled by the memories and the book's silent encouragement, stared down the Delightful Children with reignited vigor.

She giggled. "I'm sorry, you were saying? Teehee."

The Delightful Children's smug expressions faltered as they sensed a shift in her demeanor. "What is this crud?" they sneered, attempting to regain their composure. "Losing yourself to another delusion?"

"Nope!" Kuki smiled. Her expression tightened as she stood tall. "You're wrong about us. About everything. Sector V…we aren't just some co-workers or a bunch of misfits the Big Super-Computer-ma-bob lumped together; we're friends. The bestest friends in the whole wide world! And those types of friends? They never abandon each other, no matter how tough things get."

The Delightful Children, sensing their grip on the situation slipping, snarled in unison.

Suddenly, Abby walked up with Hoagie, the boy picking bits of confetti off his duster while the girl dusted off her sneakers. She ruffled Kuki's head. "Sorry we're late."

"Got a little held up, but we made it alright," Wally said. Nigel came up, nodding and clapping the boy on the shoulder. His expression turned serious, then jerked his head toward Kuki before walking up to take point. Wally squirmed, fiddling with the drawstrings of his jacket as she whispered to his beau. "Um, Kooks? About what I, er, said earlier—"

"We'll talk later, okay?" she softly promised. She fixed her gaze ahead. "We've got work to do."

Wally's lips thinned. He grumbled, eventually acquiescing with a curt bob of his head.

"So much for party games, eh, dorks?" Nigel taunted as he resumed the lead. "Anything else on the itinerary, or can we get to the fun part?"

In an uncharacteristic show of restraint, the Delightful Children ignored Nigel. No, their gaze remained on little Kuki; rage simmering beneath the surface. Her words brought back memories they had surrendered. Her voice called forth the delightful dull in the back of their skulls that was evolving into a migraine. This…this foolish little, naive girl.

She reminded them so much of—

"Everything ends, Sanban," they hissed. "But since you're so stubborn to cling to your precious friends, then by all means! …we just hope you're ready to pay the price for it."

Sector V felt a chill in the air, and not from the storm. "What do you mean?"

"Nu-uh, uh," they slowly teased with slow wags of the finger. "We're not ready to open all the presents just yet. After all, you've yet to enjoy tonight's entertainment!"

Sector V spun around, weapons at the ready, eyes scanning for the next monstrous challenge. They expected a towering robot, perhaps another horde of killer garden gnomes, or even a swarm of confetti-fueled bees.

Instead, they found themselves staring at a skinny, slightly nervous, and utterly silent party clown.

The clown, dressed in bright polka-dotted clothes, with a red nose and oversized shoes, seemed out of place amidst the chaos. His wide eyes blinked at them innocently, and he gave a small, awkward wave.

"Is this a joke?" Wally barked, lowering his fists slightly, confusion etched across his face.

Nigel, still wary, didn't lower his guard. "Stay alert, team. This could be a trick."

The clown reached into his pocket and pulled out a long, thin balloon, beginning to twist it with practiced speed and precision. The kids watched, utterly baffled, as the clown crafted a bright pink poodle with a flourish. He held it up proudly, presenting it to them with a hopeful smile.

Abby raised an eyebrow.

The clown, undeterred, reached into another pocket and pulled out a whole rainbow of balloons. He began twisting and turning them into various shapes: a green dinosaur, a yellow giraffe, a blue sword, and even a multi-colored hat which he promptly placed on his own head with a grin.

Hoagie, unable to suppress his curiosity, took a step closer. "Is he…is he seriously just making balloon animals?"

The clown nodded enthusiastically, producing a balloon flower and presenting it to Hoagie with a flourish. Hoagie, in turn, took the flower, examining it as if it might explode.

"This is the most bizarre thing I've ever seen," Nigel muttered, though he couldn't help but watch as the clown created a balloon bicycle, complete with tiny balloon pedals.

The clown, sensing his audience's mixed reactions, decided to go big. With a dramatic flourish, he pulled out an enormous, extra-long balloon. He began twisting and shaping it with a speed that was almost hypnotic. Sector V watched, unable to look away, as the balloon grew into an elaborate, life-sized balloon lion.

"Okay, that's kinda impressive," Wally admitted, folding his arms and tilting his head.

The clown beamed, taking a deep bow, his enormous shoes squeaking comically against the ground. He then handed the balloon lion to Abby, who took it with a mixture of bemusement and admiration.

The Delightful Children, watching from above, scowled. "What is he doing?" one of them hissed.

"Distracting them with nonsense," another grumbled.

After handing out all his balloon creations, the clown gave one final wave and squeezed his nose with a loud "HONK!" before turning to leave, his oversized shoes squeaking with every step.

Sector V stood there, armed to the teeth, surrounded by balloon animals, utterly perplexed.

Nigel shook his head. As he saw Kuki cooing and awing over the poodle balloons, a small smile tugged at his lips. "Well, that's one way to lighten the mood."

Wally grinned, holding up his balloon sword. "Hey, guys, check it out! I'm armed and dangerous!"

Hoagie went into an exaggerated bow as he offered the balloon flower to Abby. "A beautiful flower for a bea-U-ti-ful lady."

"My, my, what a gentleman," Abby said, accepting the rubber rose with matching energy. With a snicker, she traded Hoagie her balloon lion. "Numbuh 5 got ya a new pet. Better watch out, she don't think it's house trained, heh heh!"

The team shared a collective laugh, the tension of the battle momentarily forgotten as they admired their ridiculous balloon arsenal.

Just then, the balloon animals and weapons began to twitch and expand, their colors brightening ominously. The dragon Hoagie was holding started to growl, its balloon eyes narrowing as it inflated further. The sword in Wally's hand twisted, the balloon blade elongating and sharpening to a deadly point.

Nigel's balloon bicycle transformed into a monstrous, spider-like creature, its balloon legs stretching and hardening into sharp, segmented limbs. The balloons' once playful squeaking turned into menacing hisses.

"What the—" Abby started but was cut off as the balloon flower instantly sprouted thorny vines that writhed like snakes.

With a glass-shattering scream, Hoagie dropped the balloon lion as it grew. It roared, its now massive jaws snapping at him.

The Delightful Children's scowls morphed into forced, awkward smiles as they tried to mask their surprise. "Uh, yes, of course. Exactly as planned!" they declared, glancing nervously at each other. After regaining their composure, they sneered from their vantage point. "Show them no mercy!"

The balloon animals, now vicious and fully animated, lunged at sector V. Nigel barely had time to draw his weapon before the balloon spider leaped at him, its legs slashing through the air. He ducked and rolled, narrowly avoiding a swipe that left deep gouges in the ground where he'd stood.

Wally swung his balloon sword defensively, its now razor-sharp edge clashing against the balloon animals that charged him. "These things are crazy!" he shouted, dodging a swipe from a balloon tiger.

Abby used her BIRDIE to blast the balloon wolves, but their rubbery hides absorbed the impact. "They're tougher than they look!" she called out, ducking under the wolves' massive claws.

Hoagie gulped as the balloon lion slowly stalked towards him. As it primed for a lunge, the boy screamed. Fear taking over, he took to the air, using his jet pack to dodge the lion's lethal swipes.

As Sector V slowly succumbed to the assault, the Delightful Children laughed. The carnage playing out before them was better than educational television! In fact, it was like a visceral late-night animal documentary. And how fortuitous they were, getting to bear witness to all live.

It was worth it. Oh, it was so, so worth it to finally see these charlatans torn to itty-bitty pieces!

"You know what? We're ecstatic that you numskulls got your act together," they said as the podium lowered. The moment they reached ground level, then walked into the fray, not a care in the world as their eyes gleamed—ravenous for murder. "Beating you at your worst? Why, it would feel so very…unfulfilling!"

Seeing the Delightfuls so close, Wally kicked away a poodle and ran swinging towards them. The group barely paid him any mind, breaking into a joyous skip as Wally was trampled by a rubbery rhino.

"Because, this moment? Not even in our wildest dreams could we imagine a more fitting end to you losers!"

Abby landed sloppily, feet stumbling over vines and foliage. The balloon cobra was vicious, not letting up in the slightest. One stray trip and the girl found herself encircled in its tail. The rubber squeezed the air out of her lungs in a gasp.

Hoagie, catching sight of this, flew low in a desperate gambit to free her.

The Delightful Children merrily skipped forth, dancing through the chaos, eyes closed and feeling the rain sprinkle their faces. They sighed ecstatically. "We can't think of a morning—"

Abby freed an arm from the cobra's grasp, waving and reaching towards Hoagie. His fingers brushed against hers, only to scream as a horde of robotic pinatas collided into his exposed flank.

"—where we haven't woken up—"

With a scratchy hiss, the cobra jerked up its tail, jostling Abby around before slamming her to the ground. Her face was dragged through the mud, only to be brought up and forced to face the cobra's masters.

Her eyes widened as crazed, vengeful blue ones bored into her soul.

"—to the thought of ANNIHILATING YOU!"

As if reacting to their vitriol, the cobra snapped its tail, flinging Abby airborne. It reared back its head, fangs glistening in the rain as it propelled forth to swallow her whole. Abby barely managed to spin herself around, her feet stomping into its tongue and hands punching the roof of its mouth. Her nails scratched into the rubber, her body trembling as she used all her might to stop the cobra's mouth from closing.

The Delightful Children pointed and laughed at her struggle. "All these years of being hidden away—your pitiful faces make the sleepless night worth it!"

Nigel bobbed and weaved under the balloon spider, its legs poking deep holes in the ground as it attempted to impale him. He dodged another swipe, then used his boots to rocket up from a crouch into the creature's abdomen. The spider staggered, and Nigel used to the window and zip up and away. He set his course for Abby, but his assistance was interrupted as the spider spat a stringy line of rubbery web, entangling his legs and dragging him to the ground.

"Finally, we shall have our revenge. At long last, we will prove that we are superior in every way!"

Wally's sneakers dragged against the ground as the rhino charged forth. His hands gripped its horn, trying to use his strength to topple the beast. Using its weight to its advantage, the rhino slammed its hooves into the dirt and swung its head around, throwing Wally for a loop. The boy grunted as he landed in a bed of Father Petunia's. He spat out bits of leaves, only to scream as a gang of balloon gorillas descended upon him and began pummeling him into the dirt.

"We will win back Father's favor," the Delightfuls crackled, faces twisted with sadistic relish as the teenagers before them were beaten within inches of their miserable lives. "We will wrest back the respect and fear of our peers, your humiliation serving as an example!"

Kuki fired teddy bear after teddy bear from her THUMPER. But for every rubber wolf she knocked away, another two took its place. The pack encircled her slowly, wearing the girl down as they bared their fangs. They leaped at her, Kuki bashing her weapon against their hides. The more they swarmed her, the more her movements were exposed for what they were: desperate, futile, meaningless.

The Delightful Children, meanwhile, giggled. They pranced about, arms spread and mimicking airplanes as they twirled in the center of it all. While sector V was mutilated and tortured, they were just five precocious little scamps having the time of their lives. They inhaled the stormy air with shaky breaths, taking in every scent, flavor, and sensation possible from the demented wonderland they commanded with maleficent pride.

"Oh, and the feeling that shall course through our veins as we stand atop your mangled bodies," they fantasized, eyes twitching out of sync as emotion overcame each child in unique ways. "It will be glorious."

Abby's arms and legs trembled as the cobra's jaws slowly inched shut.

"It will be magnificent."

Nigel struggled vainly against the sticky web as the spider slowly roped him into its clutches.

"It will be amazing!"

Wally's grasp on consciousness weakened with every fist that crashed against his bruised face. Kuki hissed and cried as the wolves began nipping into her forearms and thighs.

"It will be oh so DELIGHTFUL!"

And at last, the Delightful Children from Down the Lane's fragile hold on sanity crumbled as they threw back their heads and bellowed into the night, overwhelming the rain, thunder, and agony of their hated enemies.

High above the fray, Hoagie flew through the rain, his mind running on panic as he evaded the robot pinata drones. They shot bursts of molten candy corn from their funnels, stray shots burning through his coat. The singe against his skin heightened his hysteria, and his wild, dilated eyes scrambled to search for an escape—any way out at all!

"AAAHHHH!"

Abby's scream tore him from hysteria. He finally took a moment to look down, and his heart nearly stopped at the sight. Nigel, Kuki, Wally, and Abby were all about to bite the big one. As fright and terror piloted his soul, his team struggled against death's claws. While he was so consumed with flying away, the ones he loved the most were about to die.

They needed him.

His friends needed him!

With a scream, Hoagie braced himself and dive-bombed back into the fray. Eyes clenched shut, he burrowed through fear and doubt, blaster firing blindly at the drones as he did what he did best…

He winged it.

The scattered blaster fire scrambled the drones, a few crashing into each other in jerky attempts to dodge Hoagie's assault. Their explosions bolstered his resolve, and a hesitant grin formed as he threw his empty blasters toward a nearby pinata. While it was stunned, he threw his arms around its torso, turning its nozzle towards the others as it unloaded its clip in panic.

"AH!" he screamed with abandon as he unloaded the pinata like a heavy machine gun. The volley of candy corn shredded through the other pinatas, and Hoagie slowly succumbed to adrenaline-fueled laughter as they all fell out of the sky. His sky. "THAT'S RIGHT JERKS! BOW BEFORE THE KING OF THE SKIES! AHAHAHAHA!"

The pinata in his clutches decided it had quite enough of this and promptly self-destructed.

Hoagie crashed into the ground in a smoking heap, bits of charred candy and pinata confetti chipping off his clothes. He raised his face, groaning. His expression paled as he saw he was surrounded by a flock of angry balloon poodles.

"Uh, good…rubber doggies?" he nervously chuckled. The creatures answered with snarls and surged forth to maul him. He held up his arms and shied away. "No, not the face!"

POP!

As if the recess bell had gone off, all activity on the front lawn froze as the popping of a balloon echoed through the air. Everyone, including the wild balloon animals, trapped sector V, and manic Delightful Children, slowly turned to gaze curiously at Hoagie.

The boy, for his part, risked opening his eyes and blinked to see pieces of deflated balloon raining down on his face.

"Huh?" was the only coherent thought he had. All around him, the balloon poodles whimpered, slowly backing away. Hoagie raised a brow but winced as light reflected in his eye. He turned to the source and saw one of his SPORK pack's utensil arms. His eyes stared, mesmerized by the fork.

The fork and its sharp, pointy tongs.

He blinked. "…huh."

"Oh," the Delightful Children squeaked. They then slumped forward, the realization taking the wind from their sails. "Oh…no."

The grin Hoagie had would rival that of the Grinch's. "Oh yes."

And without delay, he was off. Aided by his jetpack, Hoagie gilded across the rain-slicked grass, thrusting forth the fork of his SPORK and effortlessly tearing through the balloon poodles. He killed his jets, landing and using the forward momentum to surf across the slippery lawn. He curled the knife of his SPORK forward, bracing his hands against it as the sharp end cut through the rubbery zoo the Delightful Children unleashed upon them.

"Sorry to deflate your egos," Hoagie said, barely keeping his laughs contained as he slashed at the base of the balloon cobra, the air rushing from its skin, "but we're about to blow your plans wide open!"

"Ugh!" the Delightfuls shared a collective groan, dragging hands down their faces. "Anything but this…"

As the cobra died with a hiss of air, Abby fumbled to free herself from its maw. She jumped from its mouth, sneaker catching against its fangs, sending her tumbling to the ground. She braced herself for a rough landing but was surprised to be caught suspended in mid-air. She looked up to see she had fallen in the arms of her savor.

"Heh, heh, get it?" Hoagie asked, trying his best to look totally cool and heroic. As Abby's silence lingered, sweat beaded his brow, and he swallowed a nervous lump in his throat. "Cause, uh, they're made of balloons, so, uh…"

Abby quirked a brow.

Hoagie smiled a hesitant smile.

Abby chuckled, leaning forward to kiss his cheek. Her chuckles morphed into adoring laughter as his face lit up like a Christmas tree. From behind, a balloon lion reared up for a pounce. Hoagie was oblivious, what with his dopey smile and all, but Abby was alert. With a roll of her eyes, her hand snapped something from her belt, the pike of her ONE-WAY ROADSIGN extending and popping the creature that tried to spoil the mood.

She twirled the staff between her fingers, smirking as she noted the Delightfuls fuming. "Aw, what's the matter, nerds? We burst your bubble?"

Hoagie snapped from his daydream with a look of bashful pride. "Hey! That was pretty good."

"Maybe you should take notes, flyboy," she teased as she softly flicked his nose. As balloon animals scattered, Hoagie tightened his hold around Abby and flew forth, and she, in turn, aimed her pike straight and true.

Catching on to the scheme, Nigel smirked as he killed his jet boots. He flew to the ground, hand snatching a disarmed party popper mine. "Time to put a pin in this."

With a flick of his wrist, he tossed it at the spider, the pins of the mine immediately bursting through its body. It now disabled, Nigel grunted and tore free from its bindings. He slid around, kicking up and catching more dud mine before giving his foes a cheeky look. "Talk about your Occam's razor, eh, dorks?"

The Delightful Children began pulling at their hair. "Cease with this buffoonery at once!"

"Don't you mean balloon-ery?"

"We most certainly DO NOT!"

"I've heard of pop goes the weasel," Kuki said airily as she swiped at the wolves, finally unsheathing the sickle of her staff, "but this is almost bal-loony! Tee-hee!"

The Delightfuls began angrily crying. "Stop it, stop it, STOP IT!"

Kuki merely sailed through the air, not a care in the world, humming as she sliced through the gorillas, beating Wally to a pulp. He quickly sat up, shaking off his dizziness and gazing around. After studying his friend's antics, his expression shone with a wicked grin as he reached into the garden and picked up a giant potted cactus.

"Yeah! And I'm gonna…I'm gonna, uh," he mumbled, eyes darting and brows furrowing in thought. After a long moment, he glared ahead dryly. "Aw, the hell with it." And then he just started swinging.

The Delightful Children could only watch in horror as their meticulous gauntlet of revenge met with a rubber reckoning. As each balloon animal burst wide open, the group of well-mannered deviants fell apart at the seams. "What is happening!?"

"What always happens when we dance, dorks. We win," Nigel cockily said as he finished off the last tiger. He stood proud and tall, on top of the world, as his team leaned against him. He made a show of lowering his shades and, with a smug wink, declared, "You lose."

Their five pairs of eyes performed a synchronized slow blink.

And then something in them snapped as they charged forth like deranged animals, their movements uncharacteristically uncoordinated. Sector V responded the only way they knew how.

Abby spun her staff, easily deflecting Constance's heavy, brutish swings. She swept her weapon under the Delightful girl's feet, tripping her before kicking her back. "Five!"

Wally bounced on his heels, raising his dukes to block Lenny blow for blow. With a strangled scream, Lenny slammed his helmet down for a crushing head butt. However, it seemed Wally's stubborn head was harder as Lenny stumbled back from the clash in a daze. A bit dizzy himself, Wally swung into a wild haymaker that thankfully connected. "Four!"

The sound of steel against umbrella rapier clanged in the night, Kuki skipping and dancing around Alessandra's crazed slashes. She giggled, flicking the blond against the forehead. Alessandra blinked, then gasped as Kuki grabbed her shoulder and spun her away. "Three!"

With the help of his SPORK, Hoagie was able to match David and then some. With both hands, David brought down his billiard cue in a rage-fueled arch. Hoagie parried with the tongs of his fork, then braced his palms against David's uniform and shoved with a jet-pack-powered push. "Two!"

Bruce made a series of slashes and slices with his carrot nunchucks, but Nigel simply flipped over him. Bruce swung around, but in turn, Nigel slid under the boy's strike, bracing his left arm against Bruce's chest while his right cocked back his SPLANKER. "One!"

The plank slammed against Bruce, sending him crashing back into the messy pile of his siblings. The Delightful Children groaned and whimpered. The bodies were bruised and sore, but the physical wounds paled in comparison to the beating their pride sustained. Through pain-leaden eye leads, they looked up to see sector V congratulating one another, the teens and preteens basking in their victory, their glory, their camaraderie.

It made them furious.

It made them want to vomit!

It made them…

…so unbearably sad.

"No, no, no, no!" they screamed, scrambling against each other and banging their fists against the ground. "It's not fair! I-It's not fair!"

Sector V turned away from each other and to their enemies. A classic quip was ready to fly but died as they saw the state of the children. They had encountered the Delightfuls in various lights over the years: one or two flattering, but most of them downright cartoonishly devious. This time, however? This time almost took the cake.

They could hardly recall a time the Delightfuls just looked so pathetic.

No, not pathetic.

Broken. They looked broken. Upon closer inspection, the neat glossy sheen their shoes once had was nowhere to be seen. The usual sharpness and tightness of their fashion had dulled and lacked its normal care. Their eyes, always so smug and self-assured, had a new lifeless aspect that was uncanny.

The Delightful Children were throwing a most unbecoming tamper tantrum, only this time, the air of it had sector V on edge.

"T-This was supposed to be our moment! Our triumph! Our redemption!" they cried, angry tears leaking down their faces, mingling with the rain. "B-But you dummies had to go and RUIN IT! Y-You five a-always ruin everything!"

Sector V winced, sharing uncomfortable looks with each. Kuki blinked, narrowing her eyes suspiciously. "Redemption?"

"Y-You're just a bunch of bullies! A-A bunch of MEANIE-HEADS!" they screamed, voices raw as they stood, fists and arms shaking. "We hate you! We hate you, we hate you, we hate you—"

"Children."

Sector V snarled.

The Delightful Children froze.

Despite the sweltering heat that just appeared behind them, they suddenly felt so very cold. Shivering like anxious puppies, the five meekly turned, lips wobbling as they recoiled under the glare of the adult who had appeared.

"I am most…" Father said, voice steely as his eyes narrowed into slits. "…unsatisfied."

Nigel growled, taking a step forward as he cranked up his SPLANKER's ouch-setting. Kuki grabbed his shoulder, and before he could snap, she silenced him with a stern frown and then pointed to the Delightfuls. Nigel rolled his eyes, a snarky retort ready to roll off his lips, but it trailed off as he took a better look at the children.

They looked downright terrified.

It gave him more pause than he would ever admit aloud.

"F-F-Father!" they struggled to greet, hands wringing together as they lowered their head. "U-Um, we…we were just—"

"Losing," Father answered, tone peppered with indignation. He regarded sector V, looking no worse for wear, and then re-centered his heated glower down on his 'adopted' charges. "You were losing."

They flinched.

"I'm not mad, children," he scolded, his tone conveying otherwise. He took a long drag of his pipe, exhaling smoke through his nostrils that wreathed around his head akin to horns. "But I AM greatly disappointed."

"There have been some…m-minor setbacks, yes," the Delightfuls mumbled, nervously smiling to appease the blistering man. "B-But we assure you, w-we have everything completely under control—"

"Are you lying to me?"

Their eyes grew to the size of saucers. "W-We would never!"

"Really now?" He idly commented, hands square against his hips. He gauged the disastrous state of his lawn, slowly eyeing it over as he quirked a curious brow. "Cause it suuuure looks like you're fibbing up a storm."

"A-Absolutely not!" they were almost pleading now. "I-It's a, uh, r-ruse! Yes, a ruse! These no-good brats are so arrogant, don't you know—o-of course you do!—so we, er, strategized that the best way to utterly destroy them was to lure them into a false sense of—"

"Quiet."

The sizzling hiss of his command boomed louder than any outburst of anger sector V had heard so far. They watched apprehensively as the Delightful Children trembled, huddling together almost protectively as Father surveyed the situation before him. It was a long, tense few minutes during which no one moved, too afraid to risk a violent reaction from the volatile demon towering before them.

Father pinched the bridge of his nose. "Clearly, this was a mistake."

Sector V and the Delightfuls looked on, confused.

"I was a fool to think I could entrust you with such an important matter," he said. The Delightfuls began blubbering again, but he silenced them with a glare. "I will not make that error again. Never send children to do an ADULT'S job."

Hands folded behind his back, Father levitated into the air. He hovered over his children, the group paralyzed with terrified awe. He landed between them and sector V, eyes narrowed and focused on his nephew and the trespassers he brought along.

For their part, the Kids Next Door operatives buried the awkwardness and raised their weapons high, ready to begin the final battle.

"Once again, it falls to ME to clean up YOUR mess," Father spat, addressing his children without even turning to acknowledge them. With eyes glowing blood red, his hand flexed, forming a compressed fireball to unleash upon sector V. But before he let loose, one final order fell from his lips, "Now, go back to your rooms."

And with that, sector V felt oddly content. Yes, this was how the routine was supposed to go, after all. They kick the Delightfuls to kingdom come, Father gives them a verbal lashing, they run away with their tails tucked under their legs, and they deliver Father a good old-fashioned butt-whooping. He mopes, eats a carton of rocky road, and it all goes back to normal the next day. Rinse and repeat.

That is how it always went, and honestly, that is what sector V wanted. Sure, there were glaring deviations this time, but after the tense and…honestly, unsettling interaction between Father and the Delightfuls just now, the five teens could really use some normalcy.

They wouldn't get it, for the Delightful Children's reaction would throw the routine right out the window, never to be the same ever again.

"NO!" they cried, throwing themselves at Father's feet. Sector V was off-put by the tears streaming down their faces as they looked up at the man. "P-Please! W-We can do this! W-We will—"

"I said…QUIET!"

Father roared and reared on his children, tossing the fireball off without care. Sector V buckled under the explosion, and the crackling inferno intensified Father's visage as he loomed over the Delightfuls, positively livid.

"You dare back-talk to me!?" he said, chest heaving and fingernails smoking as they dug into his palms. "I gave you good-for-nothings an opportunity to set things right, and you BLEW IT. NOW GO BACK TO YOUR ROOMS THIS INSTANT!"

"Anything but that, Father!" they sobbed, snot dribbling from their noses and lips quivering. "W-We can do good! We promise! W-We'll destroy those miserable Kids Next Door and bring Nigel Uno straight to you!"

Father growled. "And what an excellent job you've done so far. DO YOU TAKE ME FOR A DUMMYHEAD!?"

"W-We s-swear we will!" They went into a desperate grovel, burying their faces cautiously against their hands. "W-We…w-we just need that…"

"Oooooh, so THAT'S how it is, huh?" He threw his hands up, raging to the falling heavens. The rain evaporated to steam before even touching his figure. "I give you all the best tools of destruction I have at my disposal, but that just doesn't cut it, does it? Always, 'Father! Please give us more, more, mooore!' Nothing I do is ever enough for you whelps, IS IT?" The earth literally began to turn black under his heel. "THAT STUPID PARTY CLOWN COST ME SIX FIGURES!"

"We didn't mean it like that," they whimpered. Despite the heat, they hugged his ankles, desperate to appease his fury despite the risk of burns. "W-We appreciate everything you do for us, Father. T-Truly! W-We just want to do our best for you! T-To make you proud! A-And with that w-we can! J-Just give us another chance!"

"I do believe I am fresh out of second chances, chil-DREN."

"W-We'll take care of everything for you, Father," they sniffled. "D-Do whatever you ask. Just…just don't send us…back to our rooms. Please…"

Father narrowed his eyes.

"PLEASE!"

Father slowly raised his hands.

Sector V stood still, paralyzed by the absurdity of what they saw.

Kuki recovered first, tensing to leap to—

"…oh, fiiiiiine." Father broke the silence by taking the raised hand and fishing around in his pockets. He rolled his eyes, grumbling, "Mangy kids. Always wearing me down with their whining and groveling…"

He produced a sleek, ebony key fob. The Delightfuls broke out in relieved gasps of joy as he pressed the red button.

"I mean, I try and be reasonable Dad. Honest," he muttered, complaining more to himself than anyone else as the earth shook around him. He continued, indifferent as he shook his head. "Be stern. Set ground rules. Then there I go—just giving in at the first sniffle, like a pushover."

Somewhere across the carrier, thunder rang out, independent of the storm. With each quaking thud, something massive marched closer and closer.

Sector V gasped, a familiar ominous sensation crawling up their spines. Nigel reacted first, charging towards further gung-ho despite Abby's protests. The Delightful Children slowly started to laugh, and Father absentmindedly encircled them all in flame, teleporting them away with Nigel crashing into where they last stood.

A shadow consumed the teens and the manor itself, blocking the rain as sector V looked up in terror. The large, disc-shaped machine lumbered forth on long, spidery metallic legs. Giant, metal tentacles wiggled freely, and an arsenal of weapons from hammers, electrified fly-swatters, and flaming chainsaws were attached and protruding from its hull.

"…and it's my fault, really. I spoil them too much, red-hot silver spoon and all," Father continued his tangent, hovering above the mech. He blinked, suddenly remembering where he was. "Wait, what was I doing? Oh, right." Frowning, he leaned down, peering into the cockpit expectantly. "Now, what we say, children?"

"Thank you ever so much, Father," the Delightful Children cooed from the pilot's seat. They cutely batted their lashes at him and smiled. "You truly are the most generous, benevolent, and wonderful Father in the whole world!"

"I am, aren't I?" he agreed. He then wagged a finger at them. "Oh, and don't think I don't recognize brown-nosing when I see it, children. Fortunately for you, I'm a sucker for it. Here."

He outreached his hand, his suit trembling as a lumpy bulge crawled from his shoulder down the length of his arm. When the lump reached his hand, the limb twitched and convulsed as molten black tar seeped from his fingers onto the metal of the machine.

Like a virus, it spread, encasing the mecha in a glossy coat reminiscent of Father's own suit. Black streaks ran down its legs, smoke rose from the exhaust pipes in plumes, and the flames around the chainsaws glowed a brilliant blue.

Father shook off the tingling in his hand. "Consider that an advance on your allowance." He shrugged. "Or more incentive for you to succeed. Pick your poison."

The Delightful Children coiled their hands against the control, flexing the machine limbs as extensions of their own bodies. "Worry not, Father. The imminent destruction of these little up-starts is all the incentive we require."

Suddenly he was before them again, and they trembled at his now stoic presence. The icy chill of his glare was juxtaposed against the heat they could feel even through the protective layer of fiberglass.

"Oh, and children?" he said, voice low with unspoken threats. "I advise you not to disappoint me again."

"W-We won't, Father," they gulped. After a moment, they braved smiles and softly said, "We…we love you, Father."

He did not immediately respond. His gaze was focused solely on them, and they squirmed under it. The anger was gone; they had thankfully averted that. But it was hard to discern what emotions were plaguing him under the surface.

After a moment, he narrowed his eyes and simply said, "You better."

And he disappeared as quick as he came.

The Delightful Children's eyes lingered on the spot Father formerly occupied. Their hands gripped the controls of the machine tightly, faces neutral as they processed his last words to them.

Remembering their tasks, evil smiles spread across their faces as they turned to face their long-hated adversaries.

"Ah, it's just like picking up an old bicycle," they fondly mused as they whipped the machine's arms around. They chuckled deviously at how small sector V looked. "A really, really, incredibly destructive bicycle."

As the Delightful Children evilly laughed from the comfort of the Really Really Incredibly Destructive Machine, Sector V stood pensive and off-kilter. Hoagie and Abby shared hesitant glances, Kuki's hands flew to her mouth in shock, and Nigel frowned, conflicting emotions warring inside of him.

They…they couldn't pretend this was business as usual anymore. Everything about that interaction, everything about how the Delightful Children recoiled to Father and his scolding…

Something was terribly wrong.

"Big whoop. Ya've seen one doomsday do-hickey, ya've seen 'em all," Wally scoffed, oblivious to the subtly in the works. Mistaking his friends' silence as fear, he loosened his arms, winding up for a warm-up to intimidate the children above him. "Bring all the fancy toys ya like, losers. Just means there's more for me to break when ya don't play nice."

"I'm afraid playtime is over, Wallabee," they gravely intoned, eyes ravenous for carnage. Empty smiles befall their expressions as they coldly said, "Too much is riding on this now."

"Heh, I'll say," Wally smirked. It grew to an arrogant, toothy grin as he taunted, "Can't remember the last time Father whooped you dorks so badly. What? You goody-two-shoes ain't his favorites anymore?"

Around him, sector V tensed. Kuki gasped, Hoagie sucked in air through his teeth, Abby facepalmed, and Nigel's eyes widened in alarm. They had a dreadful gut feeling that Wally's words were in extremely bad taste.

The Delightful Children's smile slowly disappeared, shrinking to five thin lines as their eyes grew hollow. After a long, silent minute, "…how dare you."

Sector V, sans Wally, gulped.

"How dare you."

That dreadful gut feeling?

"HOW DARE YOU!"

It was right on the money.

Trembling with fury, the Delightfuls pulled a lever, the Incredibly Destructive Machine firing on all cylinders. One of its steel tentacles whipped back, poised for a strike. Sector V upped their guard but flinched in confusion as the tentacle merely burrowed itself into the ground.

Suddenly, the earth beneath their feet quaked furiously. Without warning, the tentacle erupted right under Wally, surprising the boy and sending him into the air. The moment he was airborne, the Delightfuls screamed, the two giant fly swatters crackling with electricity. The left one twitched, smacking into Wally, shocking him and sending him flying. The right one mirrored its twin, slamming until Wally, his agonized screams piercing the air as the swatters began juggling him around.

"You…you have the nerve to mock us? Us!? After everything you've done?" they seethed from behind the glass. Eyes twitching, they jacked up the voltage. "After what YOU put us through!?"

Snapping from their daze, the rest of sector V flew into action. Nigel rocketed into the air to save Wally, Hoagie knelt and began loading his JAW-CRUSHER, and Abby and Kuki sprinted forth toward the machine's legs to divert its attention.

The Delightful Children noticed and reacted accordingly. Their hands glided across various buttons, firing off volley after volley of homing missiles that sought out Nigel with deadly accuracy. The bald boy cursed, resorting to evasive tactics as the missiles zoomed in hot on his tail.

"It's not enough for you ingrates to be the center of attention. Not enough for you to steal a victory destined for us," they growled, heaving as they lifted their legs in an attempt to crush the operatives below. "No, you have to go rub salt in the wound like the vindictive little savages you are!"

Kuki squeaked as she rolled out of the way at the last second, the leg of the machine splintering the lawn. Abby wasn't faring much better, twisting on her heel and jumping and swaying in a life-or-death game of hopscotch to avoid being stomped by eleventy-gazillion tons of metal.

In a risky move, Abby launched herself up, grappling onto one of the machine's legs. It vibrated, desperate to shake her off, but using gum from Henrietta's supply, she glued herself to the metallic joint.

She panted, taking a second to catch her breath. The machine would grant her no such reprieve, for she looked up bug-eyed to see a baker's dozen of laser turrets sprouting from the disc's underbelly, all charging and aiming at her. Abby quickly whipped out her BIRDIE, shooting out as many turrets as she could before they opened fire.

"Dammit!" she hissed, dodging the brunt of the laser fire but catching a stray blast in the knee. The Delightful's laughter irked her something fierce, and despite herself, she snapped back with, "What the hell did we ever do to you?"

"Playing innocent? Very well, we'll indulge you!" The Delightfuls flexed the leg upwards, Abby yelping as she was suddenly lifted and propelled upward. To her shock, the children had angled her, allowing them to meet face-to-face. "Do you wonder where we've been? Curious as to why we haven't taken the chance to eviscerate you until now?"

Abby growled, reloading her BIRDIE.

"Of course, you haven't; why would you care?" they said, tones wry as they rolled their eyes. "But we'll tell you anyway. You want to know what happened to us, Abigail?"

Abby hefted up her weapon, taking aim at the Delightful's shielded cockpit.

"We…we were grounded."

Her finger stalled against the trigger, eyes wide at how miserable they now appeared.

"Grounded," they repeated, voices shaky and nearly out of sync as they trembled. "Us, the most perfect, well-behaved, adult-respecting children in the entire world—grounded! We…we've never been grounded before…"

Abby hesitated. They were their sworn enemies, bitter rivals on opposite sides of this never-ending war. They were in her way, and she needed to take them out. But as she looked at the Delightful Children, the group so forlorn and trembling, a tender voice inside her urged her to take a step back and listen.

And as the children began waxing their tale, Abby surrendered her guard and listened.

"It was terrible," they whispered. "Broccoli for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Our educational television privileges? Revoked. Our classic music records? Destroyed. We were pulled from Gallagher Elementary, and Father hired the Terrible Tutor to put us through rigorous homeschooling lessons. And even when we met his standards when he became lenient to our plight? Father fired him, taking our education into his own hands. We haven't stepped foot outside the manor in years." They managed meek little smiles. "B-But it was for our own good. Father knows best, after all…"

Abby's heart pounded sympathetically, her eyes sad. "No…"

"…but the worst of it? When the day was done and we had finished our gauntlet of chores? We were sent to our rooms. Separated." They lowered their heads, various bangs and headgear veiling their eyes. "…alone."

"I'm…" Abby had no words. Being grounded was the bane of children everywhere, the ultimate denial of their freedom and autonomy if enacted too harshly. Some parents gave no quarter. Some were merciful and gave leeway. But to be grounded by Father?

No, from their description, Father hadn't just grounded them.

He had them on house arrest.

His own children…

Abby lowered her eyes. "I'm sorry."

"You should be." Their hiss made her snap up, and she nearly recoiled at the pure venom oozing from their glare. "Because it's all. Your. FAULT!"

Without warning, the leg of the machine began heating up, the metal searing Abby's skin. She scrambled to detach herself, jumping away right as the flames were about to burn through the protective layer of her clothes. While in midair, she was wide open, and the machine was all too eager to exploit that. A hammer crashed into her, sending her plummeting into the mud.

Hoagie screamed as Abby went down. Rage tickling his thinking, he hefted up his JAW-CRUSHER to and fired blindly. The giant jawbreakers shattered against the machine's armor, barely leaving dents. A flaming chainsaw swung out, swiping at the ground in front of him and forcing him back.

"It was because of you we were punished."

Having grown bored of swatting Wally, the machine spun around, delivering one final grand slam and sending the electrified Beetles boy zipping to the ground like a bolt of lightning. Wally bit the curb beside Hoagie, the built-up static in his small body exploding outward and zapping the portly boy as well.

"It was because of you we were locked away."

Kuki darted side to side, avoiding the stomping legs as she tried to make her way to Abby. A winding tentacle caught her off guard, cracking against her back and sending her flying across the lawn.

"We, the most delightful children ever, had to suffer the sins of disobedient whelps like you!" they shouted, beyond outraged. "And if that wasn't enough, you even had the gall to come leave our backdoor open, allowing our precious kitties to run away! You monsters!"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, time out," Hoagie grunted despite the pain coursing through his veins. "We definitely didn't do that."

"Of course you did! Father said so!"

"I bet he said a lot of things!"

An angry tremor zipped up their spines as they heard that voice. The Delightfuls snarled upward, seeing Nigel returning to the fray. They shot off various lasers, but he gracefully dodged them, a few missiles on his trial being caught in the crossfire. As he neared the Destructive machine's top hull, he turned off his boots and landed in the roll. The remaining missiles couldn't adjust fast enough and pelleted the hull, explosions blanketing its surface.

Nigel rose from the smoke, SPLANKER in one hand and blaster in the other. A contemptuous frown marred his face. "Let me guess: Father gets humiliated in the scavenger hunt and decides to take it out on you. Cry me a river. That has nothing to do with us!"

"You daft little punk, you think it was just the scavenger hunt!?" The Delightfuls activated the machine's defenses, mini-turrets and chainsaws blossoming across the hull to deter Nigel's advance. As he wafted through the death field, they continued to rage. "Life before? It was perfect. We were respected. We were feared by snot-nosed whelps the whole neighborhood over! While in Father's good graces, we were atop the world! …but then you came along."

Nigel flipped over turrets, taking them out with his blaster. He went into a slide under the chainsaws, his SPLANKER making quick work of their support bases.

"You and your stupid sector. You made nuisances of yourselves. You started fighting back! Suddenly, Father began making our lives miserable because you scoundrels couldn't just…just be quiet and do as you were told!"

With a twirl, Nigel careened past lightning nets and parried swords and daggers. Anger fueled his every movement as he got closer and closer.

"Every day, the scoldings got worse. Every year, the cakes got smaller. Eventually, it wasn't even about our birthdays! No, it was just another convoluted ploy to destroy you brats while we were cast to the sidelines. Neglected. Ignored! It was always about you, you, you! You and your stupid club of juvenile delinquents!"

Nigel used a jet-boot-fueled kick to slash through a tentacle armed with a chainsaw. He grabbed the handle mid-air and clicked on his other boot to surge forth, the deadly commandeered weapon buzzing and burning through anything that dared stand in his way.

"Because of you, we toiled. Because of you, we had to suffer! Even now, our entire fate is left up to what becomes of you!" They watched as he neared, and as the distance shortened, the more red they saw. "So why still fight? Why won't you be a good little boy, give in, and just do what Father says!?"

"Because I still remember what you forgot, sector Z," Nigel shouted as he cut through the last of the traps. As he stood upon their cockpit, righteous fury guided his hand as he raised the chainsaw to slash through the casing in one final blow. "And it's that I'm KIDS NEXT DOOR!"

The chainsaw shattered through the glass, but the Delightful Children were unfazed as it kept barreling toward them. Time seemed to slow, and the spinning blade was mere inches from their blank faces.

And at the last possible second, they smirked.

"You are so predictable."

A large hand sprung up from the machine, catching Nigel in its grip. Surprised, the chainsaw clattered across the disc until it fell off the side, forgotten. The boy heaved as the hand squeezed tightly, several of his bones on the verge of breaking under the immense pressure. The tentacle elongated itself, twisting and swinging as it pounded his face into the hull.

The Delightful Children slowly stepped up out of the cockpit, hands behind their backs as they strolled forward. Their eyes followed Nigel's beating, an amusing twinkle glimmering behind their pupils.

For his part, Nigel was lost to a world of thrashes, slams, and bruises. The tendrils had him in a vice grip, jerking him about like a hand-me-down rag doll. From his back pocket, a small notebook was jostled until, finally, it fell from Nigel and slid down the hull unnoticed.

After seeing him battered and bruised for a good few minutes, David snapped his fingers. The hand stopped, then lowered the boy to their eye level. Nigel's shades were lowered just enough for them to see the fury simmering behind them.

Oh, how they had longed for this moment.

"Kids Next Door, you say?" they mused, tapping their chins. "Is that the lie you keep telling yourself?"

Nigel spat at their shoes. "It's not a lie."

They quirked a brow at his display before frowning. "Really now? Then tell us, Kids Next Door, what is your mission?"

Nigel furrowed his brows and said nothing.

"Aw, cat got your tongue?" Bruce reached out and gently smacked his cheek. "That's quite alright, we already know. As Kids Next Door, it is your job—nay, your duty to help all kids. Isn't that right?"

Nigel's eyes widened.

"Of course it is! Why, it's an undeniable truth of the universe. The sky is blue, the grass is green, and Numbuh 1 saves poor, defenseless children in need. He can't help himself otherwise." They paused, their expression playfully skeptical. "But…sometimes we wonder…"

Nigel growled, "Are you going somewhere with this?"

"Come now, no need to be hostile. You're among 'friends,' Numbuh 1. True friends that know you better than those sad playmates of yours below. And just between us 'friends,' there's something we've been dying to hear you admit aloud." They leaned in so close the rain of their faces dripped onto Nigel's. "Why not us?"

Nigel balked. "What?"

"You heard me," they chuckled. "You took an oath to help kids, Numbuh 1. No matter who they are. So why not us?"

"Because you're evil."

Bruce softly smacked him. "Try again."

"Because you're our enemies!"

Smack. "Getting colder."

"You're some of the cruelest, butt-kissy-est, evil-adult-loving-est cads I've ever had the displeasure of crossing paths with," Nigel spat. "You live to act all superior and make other kids' lives hell. It's who you are at your twisted little cores."

"Ah, but not always, right?" they countered, relishing at how he winced. "Come on, tell us. Why did you lie to your team? Why did you keep our fates a juicy little secret and do nothing about it?"

"I did do something! I informed Numbuh 362. A secret team of science nerds were devoted to finding a cure for your condition."

"Pfft. And that bore so much fruit, didn't it?"

"I was sworn to secrecy. There were rules!"

"Ah, rules: convenient excuses for a coward's inaction," they laughed. They appeared thoughtful. "But then again, you're no coward, are you, Numbuh 1? You claim to be bound by rules yet are unafraid to break them when they suit you. Here you are, no doubt raging against the 'scared' rules and regulations of your Galactic Space Dorks to rescue a traitor who sentenced herself to death long ago!"

"Shut your mouths," Nigel said, heating building in his core—a deep-seated rage long past due to boiling over. "Rachel is no traitor. She's one of us. She's worth it!"

"And why weren't we worth it?" they shouted over the thunder. The machine's fist brought him close, and they grinned. Their expressions were mad, hair slightly askew, looking absolutely barbaric, but the Delightful Children didn't care. No, any and all imperfections would be nothing compared to the sweet, delicious satisfaction of them getting him to admit it! "Why didn't you save US, Nigel!?"

And finally, after everything, Nigel let it all out as he couldn't bother to pretend anymore.

"BECAUSE YOU RUINED MY LIFE!" he bellowed, the dam breaking. He snapped up at the Delightfuls, raging against his binding with futile tears of spite. "I was happy! I-I was normal! But then you came along. You abducted and tormented an innocent little boy for no other reason because you felt like it! You didn't just make me bald—you left me scarred! My wonder, my whimsy…you took it all from me. I can't sleep because I still have terrors of that night. I can't rest because monsters like you lie in wait around every corner! It wasn't under Father's orders; it wasn't due to happenstance; it was because you were bored! IT'S BECAUSE YOU'RE TWISTED LITTLE MONSTERS!"

"And there it is!" they cackled, giving him a round of applause. "Finally! You have no earthly idea how long we've waited for you to admit it! To shout to the heavens how you're no better than us!"

"I am NOTHING like you!"

"Au contraire, Nigie, it's like looking in a mirror! All that bitterness, all that resentment…it's no wonder Father has taken such an interest in you. He has quite the eye for potential." They calmed themselves, schooling their features into something more dignified as they cleared their throats. "But since we're being so candid and open, it's only fair we come clean to you as well. The truth of it all, Nigel Uno, is out of all those whiny K-N-Doofuses, you're special. You're special because we hate you the most of all."

They leaned forward again, dark bags visible under their eyes as they peered into his soul and laid it all out. "You are the epitome of what is wrong with the sniveling youth of today. You had it all: a father who adored you, a girlfriend who would move mountains for you, teammates who would ask, 'How high?' when you ordered them to jump. You had everything, then you threw it all away because it still couldn't satisfy that insatiable ego of yours. You're a hypocrite. The worst kind, actually."

They turned away from him, walking to the edge of the Incredibly Destructive Machine. Their arms spread wide, gesturing to the delightful little performance they had put on for all to witness. "You say we ruined your life, but we merely enhanced it! You whine that we took everything yet spurn all we gifted you! Why, without us, Nigel Uno, there would be no teammates, no adventure, no legendary Numbuh 1. We made you who you are today."

Nigel trembled with indignation as they walked back to him, vision clouded with so much anger that no words could form. The Delightful Children gazed down at him, tsk, tsk, tsk-ing at his pathetic state and ungrateful expression.

"But alas, you never appreciated all we've done for you—all we gave you," they scolded. So we do believe it's time to take it away—as is our right."

"Then what are you waiting for, Delightful Children?" Nigel urged, scorn coating his voice as he glared up at them. "Finish it."

They grinned, snapping their fingers as metal tentacles wielding flaming chainsaws rose behind them. "We would love nothing more."

A streak of lightening across the horizon served as the rally signal, the chainsaw leaping across the disc to take off Nigel's head. The boy stared ahead, eyes set and face unflinching.

At the last second, the fire around the chainsaws died, their blades halting as they pressed into Nigel's forehead. The pressure was nearly enough to draw blood.

"Unfortunately, Father has designs for you," they said with a shrug, the chainsaws withdrawing. Their faces settled into grim lines as they threateningly intoned. "And he will do far worse than make you bald."

Nigel rolled his eyes.

Seeing his blasé attitude, the Delightful Children couldn't help but twist the knife one final time. "…your little playmates, however?"

All at once, the anger returned, Nigel redoubling his efforts to free himself. "DON'T YOU DARE!"

"Oh," they said as he was encased in a metal tube and swallowed into the hull of the machine. They merrily returned to the cockpit, grabbing the control and turning to deal with the remainder of sector V. "We dare."

With rain battering their beaten bodies, Hoagie, Wally, and Abby struggled to get to their feet. Across the lawn, Kuki groaned, dragging her up from the mud as the Incredibly Destructive Machine marched closer. The four stared up into the faces of the Delightful Children, who were content as cats in a warm canopy.

"And there you have it, losers. Your great, illustrious leader: exposed for the hateful little sham he is," they chuckled. They rose curious brows, crossing their arms. "Still think he's worth the trouble?"

Below, Hoagie, Wally, and Abby shared serious glances.

Kuki, despite herself, held her breath.

Hoagie, Wally, and Abby roared as they ran forth, blasting.

They were taken aback by the Delightful Children's sudden gush of fury and vitriol. "You…IDIOTS!"

Wrath and spite fueled every swing and strike from the Incredibly Destructive Machine. In a flurry of violence and carnage, Hoagie was flung carelessly to the side, rubble and scrap burying him in a small tomb. Tentacles cracked and slapped Abby through a marble statue, her prone form splashing into the fountain below it. Wally bounded toward the machine's underbelly, only to meet a wall of laser fire that blasted him into a crater.

"Idiots! Imbeciles! UTTER FOOLS! THAT'S WHAT YOU LOT ARE!" The Delightful Children raged, slamming their fists against the control panel. "A bunch of stupid children desperately grasping onto fragile bonds that amount to NOTHING! We tried to warn you, give you a merciful way out. But did you listen? Did you accept our generous offer? OF COURSE NOT!"

The Really, Really, Incredibly Destructive Machine gave a lurch, the resentment and despair radiating from the Delightful Children feeding the fiery black substance Father had coated the armor with. It stretched across the limbs and tendrils, flames licking the hull as it consumed their anger.

"Take a good, long look, Sector V. This is the fate that awaits you when you try and stay together. This is what waits for you when you refuse to grow up," they snarled, whipping their glares to the cracked reflections in the broken glass. "This is how your story ends: souls withering away under delightful rose-tinted glasses. Just like The Legendary Sector Z." They glowered down at the youth. "Just. Like. Us."

Kuki forced herself to her feet, the sudden vertigo sending her tumbling and tripping back to the ground. She hissed as dirt and grime scratched her open wounds, and she barely lifted her eyes just in time to see the devastation unfolding in front of her.

"Ah, but worry not. Even now, we're not completely heartless," the Delightfuls said, closing their eyes to regain some mask of indifference. "We'll leave that particular slow erasure to dear Nigel. You dimwits, on the other hand? We'll put you out of our misery." They smiled eerie lifeless smiles. "Maybe we'll even make it quick."

Kuki gasped at the sight of her team. The tragedy of her friends, despite everything, being torn to shreds but spiteful brats. Her chest tightened, her breath shortened, and her heart shattered as the dream fell apart at the seams.

All thanks to the Delightful Children from Down the Lane.

"Why?" Kuki sobbed, folding in on herself. She raised her face to the Delightful Children, her tear-stained cheeks raw and bare for them to see. "…why?"

Her broken voice managed to reach their ears, and they turned to look down at her, annoyed. "Oh? You're still here, hmm?"

"Why are you being so mean?" she whimpered. Her trembling fingers clenched her head, trying to scratch away all the bitter, nasty whispers their presence summoned. "I…I don't understand…"

"Of course you don't. Someone like you never could," they sighed. "To admit that we're doing you a kindness would shatter whatever illusion of sanity you have left."

"Kindness? Y-You're not being kind. Y-You're being cruel," she said, voice strangled with sobs. "You choose to be cruel! Y-You don't have to! W-We could stop fighting. We…we could just talk to each other. Maybe…maybe, despite it all, we could somehow manage to get along—"

"WAKE UP!" they fumed, hands angrily slicing through the rain. "There are no such things as 'kissing and making up' or lifelong friendships worth dying for, you stupid little girl! Say by some miracle you win, what then!? What do you think will happen if Nigel completes this little mission of his? Do you think he'll stay? Do you think you will all go back to living in that stupid treehouse playing pretend? If he succeeds, he'll leave you!"

Kuki sniffled. "Y-You don't know—"

"And once he's gone, Abigail will go back to being a teen spy with that chubby dork following her like a lost puppy!

She shrunk under their words. "S-Stop it…"

"Your boyfriend? Puh-lease. He'll keep picking inane fights against a society that will banish him to the electric chair."

"Shut up!"

"Nah. Honestly, it's high time someone gave you a reality check, my dear."

Pausing their rampage, they leaned to the side, fingers flying across the console. From the sides of the Incredibly Destructive Machine, two comically oversized microphones sprouted outward. Inside the cockpit, Alessandra held out her hand, Lenny passing her a silver CD.

"Secretly surveying your kiddie club was a rather fun pastime of ours. We made bets, wondering if you dolts would ever catch on. Oh, the nasty little snippets we've eavesdropped over the years…have you ever wondered what your precious 'friends' in the greater Kids Next Door thought of your team?" Alessandra inserted the CD, hitting 'play' with a sneer. "What they thought of you?"

The speakers crackled to life, the audio filled with static before voices emerged, clear and mocking.

"…Sector V? They're a joke. How they manage to stay semi-functional is beyond me…"

Another voice chimed in, laughter evident in their tone. "…Honestly, their leader is such a tryhard. He's always going on about 'saving kids everywhere' like he's in some action movie. It's kind of sad…"

Kuki's eyes widened, the words slicing through her like a knife. She looked to her fallen friends, hoping, praying they wouldn't wake up to hear this.

"…And don't get me started on the rest of them," another voice sneered. "The hothead? He's a loose cannon. Numbuh 5? Thinks she's all that but couldn't lead a parade, let alone a mission…"

Abby's face tightened in unconscious disapproval as if she could hear the derision aimed at her.

Kuki's hands flew to her ears, but she couldn't block out the voices. They seemed to echo in her mind, each word a hammer blow.

The recording shifted, and a new conversation began. "…Numbuh 3? Oh, please. She's such a brat. Can't believe she's actually in the Kids Next Door…"

Another voice joined in, cruel and mocking. "…I heard she only joined because she thought it was fun. Must've whined and begged someone to let her join. It's not like she actually contributes anything…"

"She's more of a liability than anything else," someone else added. "Always yammering about her rainbow monkeys, acting like everything's a game. How does she even survive out there?"

Kuki's breath hitched, her vision blurring with fresh tears.

"She's kind of a ditz, honestly."

"And she's such a flirt! Acts oblivious about it, too. I feel sorry for the runt that's totes crushing on her."

"Heard they let her lead a 'mission' to get a kids meal on her birthday and they still had to bail her out of that."

"…a literal walking stereotype. No wonder the Japanese sector gets such a bad rep…"

"…she's just so dang useless. Wasted potential!"

The barrage didn't let up, Kuki's eyes glassy and hollow as she absorbed it all. Some voices were strangers, kids she never heard of. But…but some of them? Even if it was in passing or by chance acquaintance…some of them were familiar.

Is…is that what they thought of her?

Is that how the whole world saw her?

The Delightful Children shook their heads as they shut off the recordings. They looked down at Kuki, noting how her fragile little fantasy was crumbling to pieces. Their lips crinkled.

Harsh as it was, it was a long time coming.

"You cling to rainbows, cute imagery, and diluted happy endings because no one could stomach you otherwise, correct? You have to pretend you contribute, pretend to belong, and that some rag-tag group of freedom fighters will back you up. But you heard them. Their faith in you is as flimsy as the store-brand tissue they wipe their runny noses with. They don't want you, but you know that, don't you?"

Kuki hugged herself, slowly beginning to rock back and forth.

"They don't want you. You know it, yet just…just act like you don't hear it. Wear your little mask, and pretend it's all love and hugs! Because even if they don't want you, your so-called 'team' will, right? Ah, but we suspect you know the real answer to that, too, huh? They'll eventually leave you too, one way or the other."

Kuki's breath hitched, her chest tightening as the words sank in. Her eyes darted around, searching for something, anything, to ground herself. Her hands trembled uncontrollably, fingers digging into her arms as if trying to hold herself together. The rain poured down on her, mixing with the tears streaming down her cheeks, blurring her vision until the world was nothing but a smear of colors and shadows.

"And where does that leave you?" they asked, the question lingering in the air. Kuki was silent, the Delightfuls deciding to answer against a low rumbling of thunder. "It leaves you with a mother to neglect you. It leaves you with a father too emotionally inept to care for you. It leaves you with a sister who despises you."

Kuki clenched her eyes shut, desperately trying to shut out all those nasty whispers and taunts ebbing away at her sanity.

"Why don't you go play with your friends, since you WUUUUV them so much! Leave me alone!"

"LA LA LA! Can't hear you! Go ask your mother!"

"Not now, Kuki, I'm busy. Go do something useful."

Her knees buckled, and she collapsed to the ground, the impact sending jolts of pain through her already battered body. Her head hung low, hair plastered to her face, and she could feel the cold, hard earth beneath her, a stark contrast to the warmth she desperately sought. She wanted to scream, to lash out, but all that came out were strangled sobs, each one tearing through her like a knife.

"It leaves you all alone."

Her body shook violently with each sob, the sound barely audible over the roar of the storm. She felt hollow; every ounce of her strength drained away by the relentless assault on her spirit. The Delightful Children's words echoed in her mind, each one a hammer blow to her fragile psyche. She tried to block them out, but they kept coming, relentless and merciless.

Her vision swam, dark spots dancing before her eyes as her head spun. She gasped for breath, each inhale feeling like shards of glass in her lungs. Her fingers clawed at the ground, dirt and grime embedding under her nails as she tried to find something solid to hold onto. But there was nothing.

Her shoulders heaved with the effort of trying to breathe, her whole body curling in on itself as if she could somehow protect her heart from the brutal truth. She could feel her willpower slipping away, the strength that had always defined her crumbling under the pressure. Her mind screamed at her to get up, to fight back, but her body refused to obey, paralyzed by the sheer force of her anguish.

As the Delightful Children gazed down at the crumpled form of Kuki, a flicker of recognition passed through their unified consciousness.

They had been where she was now, once.

Vulnerable.

Broken.

Abandoned by a world that had no place for children like them.

Their minds flashed back to dark alleyways, the cold nights, and the gnawing hunger that had been their constant companions. They had been orphans, runaways, and homeless kids that society had tried to brush under the rug, mere whispers in the shadows.

They thought they had found salvation in the Kids Next Door. Instead, it was a temporary respite that only highlighted the cruelty when it was all torn away.

The memory of those days stirred something deep within them, a bitter taste of the past that they could never forget. Watching Kuki now, they saw echoes of their former selves in her. The same wide-eyed idealism, the same desperate clinging to dreams and friendships that they had once cherished.

The Delightful Children snorted. And look where that had got them…

Through the haze of tears and pain, Kuki glimpsed up to the Delightful Children, their faces twisted in cruel satisfaction. Each taunt, each derisive word was a poison, seeping into her soul and eroding the last remnants of her hope.

Kuki's head dropped to her chest, her body slumping forward in defeat. Her heart felt like it was being torn apart, piece by piece, and she could do nothing to stop it. The dreams, the camaraderie, the love she had clung to so desperately now felt like a joke, a fleeting illusion that had shattered under the harsh light of reality.

Sector V was together now, but it was never going to last.

Her parents—her mom had promised to be better, but already Kuki could see her slipping back into old ways.

And the Kids Next Door?

It didn't believe in her anymore.

Maybe it never did.

Her sobs grew softer, weaker as if she were losing the strength to even cry. The rain continued to pour, drenching her to the bone, but she barely felt it. All she could feel was the crushing weight of the Delightful Children's words, the realization that maybe, just maybe, they were right.

And in that moment, she felt truly, utterly alone.

SHCLINK!

That sound jostled her from her reverie. Kuki looked over to the right, her face numb with shock, and saw that a section of the candle shock fence had been lowered.

Above her, the Delightful coldly motioned to the exit, face neutral as they awaited for her decision.

"To be honest, the rest of those fools? We cannot stand them. You?" they paused, lips crinkling. "We just feel sorry for you."

Kuki gasped, her heart pounding as she got to her feet. Her knees wobbled, and her legs took an involuntary step towards the gate.

"Run along, Kuki. We hear ignorant bliss is delightful this time of year."

She gave no acknowledgment of the barb. How could she? There it was, a way out of this crazy nightmare. Because, in a demented way, they were right. Why keep pretending everything was going to be hunky-dory? Why keep lying to herself to her parents would uphold their promises to do better? Why delude herself into thinking her and Mushi's sistery love would bloom again?

Real life was one scary mess she didn't need to put on a face-on for anymore. She could take the Delightful Children's unspoken advice and just…run away from it all. Why stay?

Why keep pretending to be something she's not?

She took another step.

"Don't listen to 'em…"

That weak, gruff voice cut carried over the wind. It gave Kuki pause.

Curious, the Delightful Children followed her gaze.

And there, fighting his way back to consciousness, was Wally.

"They think…they're better. That they know us. That they know you," he heaved, struggling to push himself to his knees. His green eyes burned with passion and conviction, and every ounce of it was levied Kuki's way. "But they're wrong!"

With a roll of their eyes, the Delightful Children pulled a lever. "Give it a rest, Wallabee."

A leg of the Incredibly Destructive Machine rose, darkening Wally with its shadow. It creaked, then slammed downward to crush the boy.

Kuki gasped.

The leg was halted by the GUMMA-GUARD shield. Abby stood in front of Wally, arms spread and face blue as she blew to keep the bubble shield up under the weight of the machine.

Wally got to his feet, gratefully steadying himself against Abby as his eyes locked with Kuki.

"They think they've got us all figured out, Kooks," Wally growled, his voice raw with emotion. "But they don't know jack. They don't know you."

Kuki blinked, her tear-streaked face turning towards Wally, disbelief written across her face.

"I used to be jealous of you, you know," Wally admitted with gruff sincerity. "Jealous 'cause…'cause you always saw things in a way I couldn't. You saw the world all… colorful and hopeful. And you were determined to share that with everyone. Even…even with me. But I … I just kept pushing you away. I thought it was because it was sissy stuff. All girly-girl nonsense. But…but I think it's really cause I thought a dummy like me didn't deserve it."

The confession hung in the air, stark against the backdrop of chaos and destruction around them. Wally swallowed hard, his usual bravado stripped away by the gravity of the moment.

"But even when I acted like a jerk, you didn't give up," Wally continued, his voice gaining strength. "You believed in us, in Sector V, even when I didn't. And I was too stupid to see it before."

Kuki's breath caught in her throat, her heart pounding in her chest as Wally's words cut through the darkness that had threatened to consume her.

"You stopped Numbuh 1 from leaving 'cause you believed. You never wrote off Numbuh 5 'cause you believed. You…you broke, like, a hundred rules to keep me safe 'cause you believed, and me and my big mouth never realize all you actually do until it's too late." He swallowed hard. "They say you pretend to be bubbly and nice, that's it's some act to protect yourself, but it ain't! That's just who you are!"

Abby's shield wavered slightly under the weight of the Incredibly Destructive Machine's leg, but she held firm, her eyes flickering between Wally and Kuki with a mixture of concern and determination.

"And that person? That's the person I luh…t-the one I luuuh …" He struggled, face aflame as he felt every waking pair of eyes on him now. They were watching him. Judging him. Daring him to express himself truly.

But her eyes…those eyes blanketed him with a warmth akin to a spring afternoon.

Those eyes were all that mattered, and finally, he stopped caring what everyone thought of him.

"I LOVE YOU!" he shouted, voice matching the intensity of the storm around them. "I-I love you, Kuki Sanban! I love you, like, more than anything! I love ya 'cause you ain't afraid to be yourself. I love ya 'cause you see the best in losers like me who ain't worth it! I love ya 'cause, y'know what? Maybe I AM worth it. Who says I ain't worth love, these dorks? Don't think they know what love is even if it hit 'em in the face like a cinder-block!"

The Delightful Children yawned, tapping their fingers impatiently against the console. "Are you finished making an utter fool of yourself?"

"You make me wanna be better, Kooks. You make everyone wanna be better," Wally shouted, ignoring the Delightfuls. The shield began cracking under the leg's weight, and he screwed his eyes shut as he clenched Abby who leaned back into him protectively. "SO STOP LISTENING TO THESE DORKS AND BE BETTER!"

Kuki gasped, something inkling of a memory she couldn't quite place surging forth.

"Be better," she whispered…

---

...The hospital lights were blinding.

Sterile and unforgiving, they pierced through Genki Sanban's composure, leaving her feeling exposed and vulnerable.

Her heart pounded in her chest as she listened to the doctor's words, each one hitting her like a sledgehammer.

"Catatonia can be caused by a variety of factors," the doctor said, his gaze drifting meaningfully toward Genki and her husband. "Stress, trauma, or even neglect."

Neglect.

The word echoed in her mind, a cruel reminder of her worst fear.

She felt the room spinning, her vision blurring as tears welled up in her eyes. She had promised to be better, to give her daughter the happiness she deserved.

But now, seeing Kuki like this, like a lifeless doll, she realized she had failed.

"Genki," her husband's voice was soft, trying to bring her back from the edge. He held their youngest daughter, who clung to him, confused and scared. "We need to stay strong."

Numbly, she nodded, her feet moving on their own towards Kuki's room. She didn't notice the blond boy in an orange hoodie slipping out the window; her entire focus was on the still form of her daughter lying on the hospital bed.

Kuki was motionless, her eyes vacant and staring into nothingness.

Genki's heart shattered at the sight.

She reached for My First Rainbow Monkey, the same doll that had once brought so much joy to Kuki's life. She held it out, her voice trembling.

"Kuki, sweetie, look what Mommy brought you. It's your favorite doll, remember?"

Silence.

Desperation clawed at her insides. She moved closer, placing the doll gently in Kuki's lap, hoping for any sign of recognition.

But Kuki didn't respond.

She remained unmoving, her eyes devoid of the spark that once defined her.

Like a lifeless doll.

"Kuki, please," Genki whispered, tears streaming down her face. "Please, come back to me. I'll do anything. Just… come back."

Her voice broke, and she collapsed beside the bed, clutching Kuki's hand in hers. She felt like she was losing her daughter forever.

The weight of her failure crushed her, and she wept openly, the room filled with her anguish.

And then, amidst the turmoil, she heard it.

(remember her)

The voice from her past, the voice that had guided her, now rose up one last time. It was a reminder of the promise she had made, a call to remember the love and hope she had vowed to give her daughter.

(remember her, the voice of her inner child urged gently. Before it faded again, it whispered, remember your promise.)

As Genki clutched her daughter's hand, a memory surfaced, pulling her back to a day long ago when she was on the cusp of turning thirteen.

It was Hinamatsuri, the Doll Festival, a day she had always cherished.

She found herself under a cherry blossom tree, the soft pink petals falling around her like gentle rain.

A young Genki sat cross-legged on the ground, her small hands carefully crafting a doll from paper and straw. She worked with meticulous care, her fingers deftly shaping the delicate figure. The tree provided a canopy of blossoms, casting dappled shadows over her as she concentrated on her task.

As she tied the final knot, securing the doll's form, she whispered a prayer to herself. She looked at the doll, seeing not just a simple creation, but a symbol of her hopes and dreams.

"I promise to be a good adult," she murmured, her voice filled with determination. "I promise to be a good mother. Not just with dolls and toys, but with love and care."

She paused, her young face reflecting a deep, earnest sincerity. She remembered the expectations her mother had placed on her, the demands for perfection that had often left her feeling inadequate and alone.

She vowed to be different.

"I won't forget to nurture and love," she continued softly. "I'll be there for my daughters, always. I'll make them feel cherished and safe. I promise to be a good adult"

With the doll complete, she stood up, cradling it gently in her hands. She walked to the nearby river, the cherry blossoms swirling in the breeze around her. Kneeling by the water's edge, she set the doll afloat, watching as it drifted away, carrying her promises with it.

Crossing her heart, she whispered once more, "I promise to be better."

Through her tears, Genki looked at her daughter's still form.

She remembered the joy in Kuki's eyes, the laughter they had shared, the promises she had made under the cherry blossom tree.

With trembling hands, she pulled Kuki into a tight embrace, holding her close.

"I promise, Kuki," she sobbed. "I promise to be better. I promise to never give up on you."

For a moment, nothing happened.

Then, as if responding to her mother's plea, Kuki subtly leaned into her embrace, a small, almost imperceptible movement.

But it was enough.

Genki's heart swelled with renewed hope. She hugged her daughter tighter, her tears now mixed with a fragile sense of relief.

"We'll get through this together, Kuki," she whispered. "I promise."

And in that moment, the light in the hospital room didn't seem quite as blinding.

The promise of a better future, however fragile, glimmered faintly.

---

...Kuki's heart soared, the weight that had pressed down on her chest lifting slightly. The memory, distant and fuzzy, now came through loud and clear. All thanks to a simple message.

All thanks to Wally's love.

She knew.

A part of her always knew.

She knew it when she saved him from the Crazy Old Cat Lady. She knew when they shared their first—and super duper gross. Ugh, the liver spots!—kiss during the Grandfather Incident. She knew even as he came to her after her breakdown, finally pushing their relationship to the next level. Kuki knew Wally loved her up until the moment he turned his back on everything he ever knew to escape decommissioning just for her. Wallabe Beetles was never a boy for fancy words, he was a young man of action.

But after all these years…after all this time, and to hear him finally say it without a care about what anyone thought…

For a brief moment, the world around her faded into background noise.

In that moment, it was just her and Wally, their souls laid bare in the midst of chaos as she remembered the love—Wally's love, the love of her mother, and the promise she made.

"I promise to be better."

"I… Wally…" Kuki whispered, her voice choked with emotion.

"Everything ends."

Kuki fumbled back as the Incredibly Destructive Machine shifted its weight, the immense pressure further fracturing the GUMMA-GUARD's shield. Despite the imminent stomp-a-fication they were about to deliver unto Abby and Wally, the Delightful Children never once tore their glare from Kuki.

"What was it you said before? 'Friends like you never abandon each other?" they paraphrased, faces scowling with contempt as they hissed. "Newsflash, dummy: you did abandon each other! Left each other rot only to come back together because it was convenient! And when this is over? After you've 'saved the day'? You'll leave each other and go your separate ways. The love won't last. The dream is going to die. There will be no happy-ever-after. You'll never be together! EVER AGAIN!"

Words failed Kuki, her hand hesitantly flying to her mouth. For the briefest of moments, doubt overshadowed Wally's love, and the darkness threatened to take hold once more.

The wind blew hard.

Kuki gasped as something landed at her feet.

Without thinking, she knelt down to pick up the discarded Book of KND,

"It's an honor to call you my Supreme Leader, sir."

Kuki's fingers traced the worn cover of the Book of KND, its familiar texture grounding her in the present. Her mind flashed back to Paddy's voice. The voice of her new Global Tactical Officer.

The words resonated deeply within her, stirring memories of missions accomplished and laughter shared under her command. As if the book itself was imbued with the essence of every operative who had ever held it, a surge of hope filled Kuki.

The memories came like a warm flood. They washed over her. As Kuki gripped the Book of KND, she could almost hear the voices of countless kids, past and present, whispering words of encouragement, reminding her of the dream they all fought for. She could remember every moment that made the struggle worth it.

She remembered the promise she made all those years ago.

"Even if we never see each other again, even if we grow to be a hundred years old and remember fluff all about our whacky adventures…we'll always be kids at heart." Kuki smiled, fighting back tears as she placed the Book of KND over her heart. "And those kids? They'll always believe. They'll be together. Forever and always."

Their five pairs of ice blue eyes widened, frames trembling as Kuki's words struck deep...

---

the day before Numbuh Point Two's 13th Birthday

"…and this is the foyer! That means it's a big and swanky-looking lobby to remind guests how much richer than them we are," Benedict explained, pride spilling from his eyes as he gestured to the grand reception hall. He twirled on his heel, sweeping out his arms. "Isn't that it just neat?"

"Uh, y-yeah," Alessandra mumbled. She looked behind her, sharing nervous glances with her team. The four children shrugged, huddling closer behind her. The girl looked up to the man, forcing an awkward smile and thumbs up. "It's…cool?"

"Cool, she says," Benedict chuckled lightly. He skipped merrily along, thrilled to show off his extravagant home. "Come along, children. There's so much more!"

Heads low and hearts full of trepidation, sector Z followed.

They moved through each room of the manor, Benedict rattling off their furnishings one by one—fueled by some vain need to flaunt his newly acquired property. Sector Z only halfway listened. Each step felt…off. Each step felt wrong. The deeper they delved into this multi-story abode felt like it was pulling them further and further away from everything they knew.

But that's what exactly was happening, wasn't it? After nearly a week of deliberation, weighing all the pros and cons as their mission hot-line went cold in the aftermath of their fallout with Reb—Numbuh Beyond, Alessandra had convinced them this was the lesser of two evils they all faced.

This was the only way.

"...ah, and how could I forget the study? We'll spend so much time here, enriching your minds. Why, I may even let you read the political cartoons in the Sunday paper," Benedict gushed. Noting the lack of enthusiasm from the group behind him, he stopped, raising a concerned brow. "Something the matter, children?"

"Huh? O-Oh, no," Alessandra answered, taking point as the de facto speaker for them. She might as well. She was the one who pushed for this. "Everything…everything's fine…"

Benedict stared at her for a moment, eyes probing deep…

…then, he casually shrugged. "If you say so! Wait, I feel like I'm forgetting something," he mumbled, scratching his chin. He smiled, snapping his fingers before holding out his hand. "Ah, that's right. I trust you've brought the family heirloom you've agreed to return?"

Lips thinning, Alessandra turned to Bruce and gave a slow nod. Gulping, Bruce reached into his knapsack, pulling out a massive wad of bubble wrap. He slowly unraveled it, revealing an ancient jade green tea kettle. Hesitantly, he offered it to the man.

"One of great granny's lost treasures," Benedict said, holding the kettle aloft with revered awe. He smiled dimmed as he mused, "I'd much prefer her secret cake recipe, but hey, beggars can't be choosers. Maybe one day…"

"Just remember what you promised," Alessandra spoke up, frowning as she brought up the only amendment to their social contract, which the man apparently accepted with suspicious ease. "You'll never, ever, ever use it, right?"

"Of course, of course. I'm a man of my word. Besides, the whole 'demon maid' thing is sooooo 19th Century. Jenkins is all the help I'll ever need," Benedict said with a contented nod. "That reminds me; JENKINS! Be a pal and lock this up for me, would ya?"

He tossed the kettle over their heads, and they yelped as a decrepit, middle-aged butler appeared out of nowhere. Jenkins caught the kettle, holding it with his gloved hands. He looked down at the children, his neutral scowl unchanging as he disappeared into the depths of the manor as quietly as he came.

After he lost sight of the butler, David darted his eyes to Benedict. "And you're sure it'll remain secure?"

Benedict proudly dusted his knuckles. "Positive as peaches."

"And nothing will ever happen to it?"

"Absolutely nothing! As long as this manor stands, the kettle shall remain sealed," Benedict assured. After a moment, a thought occurred as he eyes rolled toward the ceiling. "Well…I suppose if, say, something were to crash into my property… Like maybe, oh, I'm just spit-balling here—a gihugic flaming Moonbase? Enough force from that kinda impact might be enough to jostle it and knock the lid off it."

Lenny blinked. "That's a rather…specific example."

"First thing that came to mind," Benedict shrugged. "Besides, the chances of something like that ever happening are probably zero!"

Sector Z shared a side glance.

"But enough doom and gloom," Benedict waved off as he pushed the children into the next room. "I've got a surprise…"

Sector Z tensed as they found themselves in the dining hall. A table adorned with silky cloth greeted them, some massive dish hidden behind a tarp.

"Surrendering to the inevitable must work up quite the appetite," he said as his hands gripped the tarp. "So, I went ahead and whipped up something special for you tykes!"

With a flourish, he whipped back the tarp. Sector Z closed their eyes, stomachs already rolling at the no doubt, vitamin-filled and—blegh—healthy platter of steamed, unseasoned veggies he was going to force-feed them.

"Ta-da!"

They gasped. "It's…a cake?"

Indeed it was. Towering before them was a delicious, decadent masterpiece of a tres leches cake. No doubt that each layer was soaked to perfection with a blend of milks that would make every bite irresistibly moist and creamy. Atop the indulgent creation, a generous layer of whipped cream provided a light, airy contrast. Crowning the cake were plump, sugared strawberries, their bright red hue glistening under the light. The combination of creamy, milky cake and vibrant, sweet strawberries made it an unforgettable sight.

"And is that ice cream?" Bruce noticed, swallowing down drool as five sundaes encircled the cake. Noticing the sweet morsels scattered atop, a waterfall of saliva dribbled to the floor. "With jimmies?"

Benedict blinked. "…jimmies?"

At that, sector Z shared an embarrassed shuffle. "U-Um, well, I guess we could call them sprinkles like everyone else…"

"Actually, I quite prefer it. Jimmies! Sounds sophisticated—all grown up and adult," Benedict grinned, sinister pride welling in his chest. "Look at you rascals, already so mature for your age. I'm proud!"

Sector Z winced, Alessandra in particular. Her dad always referred to sprinkles as Jimmies, and she continued to do so even after joining the KND to keep his memory alive. In light of the teasing she endured, the rest of her team quickly took up the alternative name in solidarity. It was something they all shared, something that brought them closer together.

But now, hearing it come from Benedict's mouth…it felt tainted.

Alessandra's lips trembled as memories surged forth. With each passing year, her Papa's face got just a bit foggier…

A hand clenched her shoulder.

"A little birdie told me someone has a birthday tomorrow," Benedict said smoothly, his other hand ruffling David's hair. "So I thought, what the heck! You kids made a very good and responsible decision, so I thought you deserved a reward. I made this myself—for you."

Sector Z looked at the cake again, their tummies betraying them with low grumbles. Every year they made their own cakes—they had no parents to do it for them. It was fun bonding, them all coming together, mixing their varying culinary backgrounds to craft cake concoctions envied the world over. Seeing and sharing the results with those less fortunate was a mark of pride for them.

But every year, the baking always left them exhausted. And every year, a nagging voice inside them spoke up, they barely had any cake leftover for themselves…

…but now?

"For us?" they asked hesitantly.

Benedict smiled. "All for you."

Alessandra was the first to reach out, carefully forking up a sizable bite, primed with strawberry and all. Slowly, she brought it to her lips and bit down…

…and moaned with childish delight. The cake's soft, spongy texture melted in her mouth, rich with a subtle, creamy flavor. The strawberry added a fresh, juicy burst of flavor that perfectly complemented the cake's rich sweetness. For the first time since her Mama and Papa died, someone had made a cake just for her…

…and it was the best cake she had ever tasted.

Seeing their leader scarf down her plate, the rest of Sector Z joined in, Constance and Bruce cutting themselves large slices whilst Lenny and David shoveled up spoonfuls of ice cream. The children enjoyed themselves all while Benedict watched, smirking with a satisfied gleam in his glasses.

They ate cake. They ate cake well into the evening. And for the first time, suddenly, things didn't seem that bad. They had a roof over their heads, the type of roof millions of kids wished for. They had a butler, their own butler, to cater to their every little whim! And when their bellies were full, and thirsts sated? They had beds, real fluffy beds to dream silly little dreams in.

As they finished, Benedict coughed into his hand before gesturing them into a hallway. "And now, there's one last little thing I want to show you…"

Sector Z hopped from the table, a giddy feeling overcoming them as they saw Jenkins immediately push up their chairs for them. They looked up to Benedict, eyes wide as they followed him down the corridor.

They lazily marched along, reflecting on their situation and the new life that awaited them. For the first time ever, they felt hopeful. They would have a home. They would have security. Most importantly, they would have each other and an adult who actually wanted them. All of them. Maybe things would be alright.

Maybe this would all work out for the best.

Benedict interrupted their inner thoughts, turning on the light of the room with a flick of his wrist. He turned to them. "And now, for my final gift to you."

The room was dominated by an ominous-looking machine. A tube-like chamber stood at the center, surrounded by a tangle of wires and pipes snaking into it from all directions. The metal gleamed coldly under the harsh lights, casting long, eerie shadows. It looked like a chamber of death, a far cry from the warmth and security they had just begun to imagine.

Benedict maliciously grinned. "Perfection."

Reality crashed down on Sector Z as they remembered the terms of their stay.

Their newfound hope gave way to a creeping sense of dread.

They grew depressed as they recalled that, yes, Benedict wanted them…but that 'want' came with stipulations.

They remembered that this wasn't the sanctuary they had hoped for; it was something they settled for.

They remembered this new life came with a horrible price.

Alessandra looked up at the machine, eyes heavy with dread. "…what is that?"

"My prototype Delightfulization Chamber. Hopefully, the first of many!" he proudly proclaimed. He began pacing around his lab, marveling at the wonder he finally welded together. "It's a pet project my family's been working on for generations: a way to mold children into the perfect, quiet, obedient little darlings they were always meant to be!" His face crumpled with disdain. "Great Granny relied on her silly little witchcraft, and my…stubborn old man refused to share his secrets. Even before he was—" He stopped himself, swallowing down bitter anger as he grinned evilly at his creation. "But who needs 'em! Nothing a little science and good ol' adult ingenuity can't work around. MY way will be just as good—no, my way will be BETTER! THE BEST, EVEN!"

Sector Z flinched as Benedict began immaturely stomping around and screaming, "BET MY SILLY LITTLE DEGREE ISN'T WORTHLESS NOW, HUH, PAPPY!?"

He blinked, pausing mid-tantrum as the children gave him uneasy looks. Ben nervously chuckled, hand combing his hair back as she adjusted his dark bow tie. "Um, anyway. You, my soon-to-be wonderful children, will have the privilege of being the first to undergo this fabulous transformation! Exciting stuff, I know."

Sector Z shared nervous glances, the atmosphere of the room suddenly suffocating them. Alessandra's hand went to her heart as it started beating. Something in her…rolled in fury. Something in her told her to stop being afraid and fight.

…something inside of her was begging her not to give up hope.

"…but do we have to?"

Benedict's frown was immediate. "I beg your pardon?"

"I know what we agreed to," she hesitantly began. She looked at her friends and cautiously walked up to Ben. "And…and I know we're not perfect…b-but is anyone? I know we're not what you might not expect…might not be what anyone wants in a normal kid, but maybe…maybe we could still try and be a family without the scary machine." She looked up, eyes conveying one last flicker of hope. "Maybe…maybe you could learn to love us for who we are?"

Benedict's posture remained rigid, his face unreadable as he processed Alessandra's words. The silence stretched on, every tick of the clock amplifying her anxiety. Her friends watched, breaths held, clinging to a desperate hope that flickered like a dying candle.

Finally, Benedict's face softened, his eyes seeming to hold a glimmer of compassion. He came and knelt in front of Alessandra, opening his arms for a hug.

She took this as a sign that he had changed his mind, rushing to embrace him. The warmth of the hug felt genuine, and for a brief, blissful moment, she believed it might all be okay.

Tears of relief welled up in her eyes as she melted into his embrace, the hope of a better future filling her heart.

"Oh, my dear Alessandra," Ben whispered, his voice dripping with false tenderness. "This may seem harsh, but trust me; sometimes…it's better to be loved for what you're not."

Her heart broke.

The warmth of the hug turned cold and dead even before Ben pulled away.

She stumbled back, tears streaming down her cheeks.

"Life's all about compromise, after all." He stood up, a self-satisfied smile still plastered to his face. "Now, shall we proceed?"

Alessandra looked back at her team—Lenny, Bruce, Constance, and David. Each of their faces mirrored the same mix of fear and uncertainty that she felt in her own heart. After her mom and dad died, they were the only family she had left.

A small nagging voice reminded her that the Kids Next Door brought them together. She remembered the oath she took, the oath they all took: to protect kids everywhere, fight for justice, and never abandon each other.

Memories flashed before her eyes—the lives they saved, the fun they had, the countless missions where they triumphed against all odds. She remembered Rebecca, their Supreme Leader, the unwavering beacon of hope and strength who believed in them even when they doubted themselves.

Her team waited on her, ready to follow her lead anywhere. They trusted her, and that trust weighed heavily on her shoulders.

She opened her mouth, about to call the whole thing off.

"But hey, I'm not heartless. I'm not going to make you do anything you don't want to do. Change can be hard. And this change…there's a chance it could…stick."

She blinked. "Stick?"

"This is a test, after all," Benedict disclosed, albeit reluctantly. "Not exactly sure what's gonna happen, especially to your bodies. There's a small chance this could all be permanent. Like, permanent-permanent," he warned. He then smiled. "But the chances of that happening are minuscule. Like, a one in a million chance…" He held up his hand and quickly coughed, "minus nine-hundred-ninety-nine thousand and nine-hundred-ninety-five…"

Sector Z shuffled nervously.

"But if you don't like those odds, you're free to leave." He paused, then added with a snide smile, "You're welcome to take your chances on the cold, lonely streets."

Alessandra froze.

She was reminded of the real world. The real world with no safety nets for them.

Sector Z was the only family any of them had ever known, and despite how much they loved Rebecca and the Kids Next Door, Benedict was the only one who bothered to offer them a way out.

She looked at her friends, seeing the silent plea in their eyes, the hope that maybe, just maybe, this could be their chance at a better life.

The weight of their expectations pressed down on her.

"Okay," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Benedict's grin widened. "That's my girl!"

Her team huddled around her as Benedict went to tinker with the chamber. No words were exchanged as they all hugged her. She sniffled.

"Oh, this is going to be fabulous. With this, we skip all the boring stuff. One button press away from being one, happy little family," Benedict said, voice alight with glee. "Now, any questions?"

Bruce coughed, motioning to something off to the side. "Yeah, um, what are the gorillas for?"

"The wha—oh!" Benedict fumbled, embarrassed. On the other side of the room, their presence entirely unnoticed until now, was a pack of gorillas, mind-control collars tight around their necks, eyes in a delightful daze as they wielded massive blasters. Benedict anxiously darted his eyes between them and sector Z before hastily pushing them out of the room. "Pay no attention to them! They were just some insurance in case you kids decided to—uh, actually, forget EVERYTHING I just said. Just me being in a silly, goofy mood, is all."

David raised a brow as Benedict shoved the gorillas into a broom closet. "Why do they have lasers?"

"I SAID IT WAS A SILLY AND GOOFY MOOD!" Benedict roared. He then groaned, pinching his nose and rolling his wrist. "Just…just get in the stupid machine."

Resigned, sector Z walked into the chamber.

"Single file, please. Hey! No pushing," Benedict scolded as he crossed his arms. Once they were all tucked inside, he grinned as he closed the door, locking it from the outside. "There! Snug as a bug in a rug."

From the side, packed together like sardines, sector Z groaned. "Is this safe?"

"Perfectly safe! Now, just sit tight while I just…"

Benedict scrambled out of the room, the sound of protective shields closing all around them. Several rooms away, the adult finished shrugging on a hazmat suit as he flicked on the intercom.

"Alrighty then," Benedict's voice buzzed over the speaker. "Ready when you kids are!"

Lenny whimpered. "W-Will this hurt?"

"Of course not! This is one-hundred-percent pain-free…hopefully…probably…maybe?" There was a pause. "Tell ya what, you feel even the slightest sting; I'll raise your future allowances by a nickel. Now, can we get this show on the road?"

Alessandra looked up at her friends, their hesitation palpable. "Can…can we just…have a second?"

There was a groan over the speaker. "Fiiiiine. It needs to charge up anyway. Make it quick!"

David sighed as he looked down at his friends. He closed his eyes in shame. "I-I'm sorry, guys. I—"

"Hey, it ain't your fault, man," Bruce interrupted. He smiled up. "Teenager or not, we're not losing you. We're in this together. Until the very end."

"…do you think they'll miss us?" Constance asked through tears. She huddled into David, trying to hold on to good memories of their kids-in-arms in the face of uncertainty. "Do you think they'll even care?"

"…of course they will," David comforted her. He rubbed soothing circles on her back, bottling up his own sadness. "Heck, if this all goes south…I-I bet the Kids Next Door will mount a rescue and everything."

Bruce wasn't so sure. "Do you really think so? After…after all we said to Rebecca?"

Alessandra stared up at her reflection in the glass, mind replaying their last interaction with their Supreme Leader. She looked away. "…it doesn't matter anymore."

Sector Z fell silent.

…then—

"But…we'll always be together," Lenny whispered, tears blinding him as he buried himself into the team hug. "R-Right?"

Alessandra's lips trembled, David and Bruce's hands drawing her closer. She buried her chin in Constance's hat, the smaller girl bawling into Alessandra's scruffy jacket. She mulled Lenny's words, the unspoken ones loud and clear.

Everything they would give up.

Everything they would turn their backs on.

Every freedom they would forfeit.

"Of course we will," Alessandra answered, steeling her voice. She went in, pulling her team—her family—close and never, ever intending to let go. "Forever and always."

From the safety of the control room, Benedict agitatedly flicked his watch, foot tapping against the carpet. "Wrap it uuuup."

With a snarl, Alessandra shouted, "JUST GET IT OVER WITH!"

Cackling, Benedict slammed down the button.

The chamber began to hum. As the weight of it set in, as the static of the machine coiled around their bodies, they felt they had no choice but to accept a truth they tried so hard to deny.

The unfortunate truth, they learned, is you couldn't have your cake and eat it too.

They were society's undesirables, the ones who fell through the cracks unnoticed. Their bond was one of trauma, shared grief, found family, and a whole mixture of things normal kids—lucky kids with loving parents, aunts, and uncles who wanted them—would never understand.

So, if conforming to a man's delightful ideal meant they would not be split and shattered, that would be how the cookie crumbled.

To a child with nothing left, dealing with the devil was better than risking yet another unknown.

The Supreme Leader begged for them to trust her, but the truth is, they couldn't.

Sector Z had no trust to give out like candy. For better or worse, they hoarded it exclusively among themselves.

Forever and always.

…and yet…

"And you can count on me too. It's my job to save kids. All of them, no matter how old they get," Numbuh Beyond said, somehow gripping them all in another impossibly tight hug. She leaned away, taking all their hands at once. "I promise I'll find a way to save you too."

All at once, they cried. This was it.

This was…

"Five," Constance sobbed.

Benedict grinned as he twisted the dial.

"Four," Lenny sniffled.

Benedict's hands clenched in anticipation as the screen glowed green across the board.

"Three," Alessandra listlessly said.

All at once, he laughed, electricity arching across the wires.

"Two," David managed out as he held his family close.

Suddenly, a red light began blinking. Benedict blinked.

"One," Bruce gulped as he braced himself.

Sweat trickled down his frazzled face as he grumbled, making a bazillion adjustments on the fly.

"Kids Next Door," Alessandra said weakly

"Rebecca," Alessandra said softly, pulling back just enough to look her in the eyes. "We'll always be here for you."

Rebecca smiled, a tear finally escaping down her cheek. "And I'll always be here for you. I love you guys!"

Alessandra closed her eyes, "…goodbye."

A light enveloped them.

A fuse blew.

Benedict screamed as he was caught in an explosion.

---

...Drip.

Drip.

Drip.

The splash of rain against their faces slowly brought the Delightful Children back to the present moment. The echoes of the past became foggy again as the never-ceasing mantra that bored them twenty-four hours a day demanded that they stop wasting time daydreaming.

That throbbing, ever-present delightful buzzing ordered them to pay attention and focus like the good-mannered children they are.

FOCUS.

Focus on the here and now.

Focus on the brat below them that dared to defy the natural order.

"What could you possibly know?" Their voice was a cruel hiss, cutting through the night and desperately trying to smother the feeling of…the feeling of something they hadn't felt in a long time.

And they mean a long, long time. Like, back when they were still—

"Y-You're w-wrong," they whimpered, clutching their heads, writhing in some unknown agony as they pounded against the console. "You HAVE to be wrong!"

"No. Numbuh 362, Abby, even Nigel—I'm going to do what they couldn't. I'm going to do what no one else was willing to try," Kuki said, rising to her feet. "I'm going to prove to you that it's never too late as long as we're willing to dream!"

"S-Shut up…"

"Because I believe in make-believe." Kuki's grip around the Book of KND tightened. "I believe in promises spoken as you cross your heart."

"Shut up."

"I believe in songs, magic, and all the miracles love can do." Kuki clenched her eyes shut, a radiant feeling as remembered every struggle. Every pain. Every moment that made this all worthwhile. She grinned as tears spilled through. "I believe in the happy ending, even if I don't live to see it!"

"SHUT. UP!"

"And call me crazy, loony, or downright kooky," she giggled, the sound a klaxon against the thunder and rain. "But I believe in second chances. Even for stuffy, uptight dorks like you."

"ENOUGH!" The Delightful Children exploded, pulling their hair, scratching at their uniforms, completely falling apart at the seams as, for the first time in decades, that droning? That eerie whisper? It was being drowned out…by something they were terrified to hear! "You're wrong! Wrong, wrong, WRONG! Y-You think it's that easy? That life will magically work out if you believe hard enough! You're stupid. N-No, you're psychotic! You're worse than Nigel! An assembly line byproduct of a spineless organization in its death throes. Your faith in your friends won't save you. Your Kids Next Door won't save you! They can't save anyone when it matters! They didn't come to you save you, they didn't try and save McKenzie, and they NEVER ONCE TRIED TO COME AND SAVE—"

Words failed them. The bitter, vile spewing from their tongues halted as they stared ahead. Listless.

They remembered the threat of being decommissioned, the fear of being separated, torn away from the only family they had ever known.

Desperation had driven them to Father, a deal with the devil that had promised them unity at the cost of their free will.

They had taken it, traded their souls for the security of togetherness, and in doing so, they had become what they were now: the Delightful Children from Down the Lane.

…but deep down, something always lingered. In the depths of their consciousness, something held on to the hope that…

…the hope that…

---

"I WILL find a way to help you. I WON'T leave you behind! I promise! Cross my heart and hope to die!"

---

Alessandra, Bruce, Lenny, Constance, and David looked down at their hands—perfectly polished, manicured, delightful hands. Slowly, the hands moved of their own accord, coming together and reaching outward towards the ghostly hand of a girl who meant the world to them a lifetime ago.

They blinked back tears, the memory of that girl becoming foggier with each passing day. "…you promised…"

Below Kuki caught sight of something. Hooking her heel underneath the partially buried object, she kicked it up, dirt flying as she caught a staff in her hand. A Go! Traffic signal repurposed into a staff. A ROADSIGN staff.

Her ROADISGN staff.

She pressed her thumb against it, the neon green scythe freeing itself from its chamber. Kuki stared up at the Delightful Children. "…I'm sorry it took us so long, but…we're here now."

The group snapped from their reverie, eyes aflame with scorn and mocking contempt. "Oh, you? Spare us this insanity! A useless deluded twerp beating us? The idea of it would be hilarious if it weren't so PATHETIC! You're just a silly little girl with her head in the clouds! A shameless flirt spouting empty gestures. A useless DITZ who will NEVER AMOUNT TO—"

"My name is Sanban, Kuki," she interrupted, her voice steady and unwavering. Kuki's grip tightened on the staff, her knuckles white against the cold metal. She took a deep breath, straightening her spine and lifting her chin. The rain hammered down around her, each drop a reminder of the battles she had fought and the resilience she had built. "I am operative Numbuh Three."

As she spoke, Kuki's mind raced through memories of every mission and every challenge she had faced alongside her friends.

"I am the former Head of Boo-Boos Nurse of the Medical Boo-Boo Grove."

She remembered the countless times she had patched up her teammates, her hands steady and sure, her compassion endless.

"I am the Diversionary Tactics Expert, Medical Specialist, and Hamster Caretaker-Liaison of Sector V."

Kuki took a step forward, her gaze never leaving the Delightful Children. Her voice grew stronger with every word, a beacon of defiance in the storm.

"I am the Supreme Leader of the Kids Next Door." She raised her staff high, the neon green light casting a glow around her. "It is my job to give them hope when there is none left."

Kuki felt a surge of power, a warmth spreading from her chest to her fingertips. The weight of her responsibilities no longer felt like a burden but a source of strength.

She took another step forward, her eyes blazing with conviction.

"It is my duty to guide them to a better tomorrow."

Her voice rang out, clear and resolute. The rain seemed to ease as if the very heavens were listening.

"It is my honor to protect any and all kids, no matter who they are."

Kuki paused, her gaze softening for a moment. "Even you."

The Delightful Children faltered, their mocking sneers slipping as they took in the sight of Kuki standing tall, her spirit unbroken. They were stunned—flabbergasted. They trembled, goosebumps tingling up their arms as Kuki rebuffed every last bit of manipulation and tactic they had thrown at her. Despite it all, she still stood strong.

Despite it all, she looked so familiar.

In that briefest of moments, Kuki looked just like her.

---

"…it's my job to save kids. All of them, no matter how old they get," Numbuh Beyond said, somehow gripping them all in an impossibly tight hug. She leaned away, taking all their hands at once. "I promise I'll find a way to save you too."

---

They balked at the memory. They scoffed at the emotions welling inside. Promises. Empty, fruitless promises. What did they ever amount to?

Nothing. In the end, the only salvation was accepting delightful conformity.

Such a shame that dear Kuki refused their mercy.

"I…We…grow quite bored of this nonsense," The Delightful Children sneered. Enough time had been wasted. Father was waiting for them. With a final roll of their eyes, they scoffed and mockingly asked, "Any last words…Soopreme Leaduh, sir?"

Fists trembling, body aching, but eyes burning bright, the youngest, the silliest – the last kid of sector V stood. Kuki watched as the Incredibly Destructive Machine was illuminated by lightning, poised for one final blow.

"…code: X-Seven-Nine."

From the bowels of Moonbase Zero, the glare of two crimson-red eyes cut through the darkness.

...I'm here to go beyond my limit, not to compromise.

And you can tell me if I mean it lookin' in my eyes.

---

While affairs on the planet became dire, the floating lunar moon itself was about to receive a rude awakening. On one of the many security branches, three operatives were sitting near their terminals. Anxiety hung heavy in the air.

One kid sat overlooking the other two in a chair similar to the Supreme Leader's. Large television screens hung from the ceiling all around his face, showing him feed from every corner of the base To his lower right, a girl sat with a Rainbow Monkeys In Love romance novel open in her lap, but she wasn't reading. Her eyes flicked nervously between the pages and the computer screens, checking for any alerts.

At the bottom of the large dome room, another boy sat uncomfortably in his chair, surrounded by triggers and targeting systems. His fingers twitched as he absentmindedly tested the controls, occasionally blasting away stray asteroids. More often, though, he mimicked holding an imaginary gun, but there was no enthusiasm in his actions, just a desperate attempt to distract himself.

"Phew. Phew-phew." The boy played, though his voice lacked its usual vigor. "Kakakakakaka. Cl-Click, kakakakakakakaka." He pointed his imaginary weapon at the girl, who barely registered the action, offering a weak smile.

The boy in charge tapped his fingers against his console, his eyes darting nervously between the screens. His fist clenched and unclenched periodically as he tried to focus. The pressure of the situation weighed heavily on him, and he mentally counted down to ten, trying to keep his composure.

When his subordinate attempted to imitate the sound of a frag grenade, he completely lost it.

"NUMBUH 6-SHOOTER!" Numbuh 549 roared, the two below jumping two feet into the air. His left eye twitched, the arms of the chair cracking under the pressure of his vice grip. "KNOCK IT OFF!"

"…s-sorry, sir! " The boy scrambled to pacify. "I-I just thought…y'know, maybe I could l-lighten the mood?"

"Lighten the mood?" the boy in charge parroted, dumbstruck. Anger crinkled his face, a sure sign he was about to go off again. "Lighten the mood!?"

"Calm down, Numbuh 549!" The girl at the radar terminal chastised. She threw down her magazine and wagged a threatening finger up at the boy. "He's just trying to help. Chill out!"

Numbuh Five-Forty-Nine blinked in absurdity. "Chill out!? In case you've forgotten, Numbuh 85 left us in charge and ordered us to be on standby for who knows what!" As he said this, he pulled down multiple camera screens and kept his eyes peeled for any strange activity. "Not to mention the Supreme Leader just up and disappeared earlier. We all have to be on full alert. What if something bad happened to her!"

The tension in the room was palpable, and each operative was keenly aware of their precarious situation. They tried to distract themselves, but the anxiety simmered beneath the surface, choosing now, of all times, to boil over.

Numbuh Three-Sixty-Five closed her eyes, smoothing her frazzled red hair before saying, "Look, I know you're scared. But can you not be weird? Please? Yelling at each other isn't going to make this any better."

The boy growled. Numbuh Three-Sixty-Five could see the stress lines etched on Numbuh Five-Forty-Nine's face, his fingers tapping nervously against his console. She sighed, knowing she had to do something to ease his tension. With a determined nod, she closed her Rainbow Monkeys In Love romance novel and set it aside.

She stood up and stretched dramatically, making sure to draw attention to herself. Then, with the grace of a practiced performer, she approached Numbuh Five-Forty-Nine, her eyes widening innocently. She clasped her hands together, her bottom lip jutting out in an exaggerated pout.

"Aw, come on, Numbuh 549," she said, her voice soft and sweet. She tilted her head slightly to the side, her big, pleading eyes looking up at him. "You don't want to be all grumpy and stressed, do you?"

Numbuh 549 tried to hold his stern expression, but it was a losing battle. The corners of his mouth twitched as he fought back a smile. "Numbuh 365, we need to stay focused," he insisted, but his voice lacked its usual firmness.

"But it's so tense in here!" she whined, her pout deepening. She batted her eyelashes for extra effect, her cheeks puffing out slightly. "Can't we just relax for a minute? Please?"

Numbuh Five-Forty-Nine sighed, the tension in his shoulders slowly melting away. He couldn't resist the power of the infamous puppy dog pout. "Alright, alright," he relented, a small smile finally breaking through. "Just for a minute."

The redhead beamed, her pout transforming into a bright, cheerful smile. "Yay! You're the best, Numbuh 549!" She reached up and gave his arm a quick squeeze, her happiness infectious.

Numbuh Six-Shooter chuckled from his station. "Never fails, huh? That pout's more powerful than any weapon we've got."

Numbuh 549 rolled his eyes playfully, but he couldn't help but chuckle along with them. "Yeah, yeah. Just don't make a habit of it."

Numbuh Six-Shooter let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding. Maybe things would calm down. It wasn't like the world was ending, right?

His face then filled with confusion as he noticed the red blinking light right on the top of the security station. "Hey Numbuh 365, is uh...that there light supposed to be blinkin' like that?"

"Huh?" the girl gasped as she turned her head to the alarm she hadn't noticed before. "Oh, no. That light only blinks when we're about to Moon Drop something gihugic to Earth on short notice," she nonchalantly explained. She froze a second later once she realized what she had just said: "…crud."

All at once, Moonbase Zero shook down to its roots. Kids all over screamed, running in a panic as klaxon alarms and blinding lights flashed in seizure-inducing displays. The soundless vacuum of space was ruptured as a hare-shaped mass rocketed down, piercing through Earth's atmosphere.

"I TOLD YOU!" Numbuh Five-Forty-Nine shouted, utterly vindicated as he zipped through information. He glared down at Numbuh Six-Shooter, eyes bulging out of their sockets. "What in the name of Sweet Rainbow Monkey Mary did you shoot!?"

"I-It wasn't me this time, sir! Honest to gum!"

"He's right," Numbuh Three-Sixty-Five cut in, eyes skimming the readout as it printed hot and fresh from the toaster printer. "We didn't trigger that. Something launched due to someone invoking a code: X-Seven-Nine. Someone outside Moonbase Zero!"

"Hold your horses," Numbuh Six-Shooter held up his hand. "What the heck is a code: X-Seven-Nine? That protocol ain't in the Moonbase handbook."

"It's not. It's an old code carried over from the sector V treehouse," Numbuh Five-Forty-Nine answered. He tensed as realization sunk in. "Numbuh 3 rigged it into our backlog to only use in case of 'pants-on-fire!' emergency."

Numbuh Three-Sixty-Five shared a grim look with her friends. "Then that means…"

'Cause I've been waiting for my moment to strike,

So, come close,

Let me show you what it's like.

---

On Earth, a section of fallen metal and scrap shook as something fought its way back to the surface. Hoagie grunted, kicking off the debris as he rose. Horror struck his core as the shadow of the Incredibly Destructive Machine eclipsed his entire body. Paralyzed with fear, he could only watch as it slowly marched right past him. Any relief he had over the machine ignoring him was doused by a new wave of fear as he saw Kuki standing defiantly in its path.

She stood there, eyes set and staff raised high. Making no motion to flee.

Yeah, you can try to stand in my path, but you're gonna regret it.

I'll be the one who laughs last while I'm makin' my exit

The Incredibly Destructive Machine leaned back, one of its tendrils gripping a giant, spiked mallet. It curled back, the Delightful Children's faces neutral as they waited for the girl to respond. They expected her to flee, but some small part of them was silently urging her to run.

But Kuki didn't run. Didn't blink at all.

'Cause this is only for the strong of heart,

Nod if you get it.

From the depths of space, a colossal figure hurtled towards the earth, blazing a fiery trail through the night sky.

They snorted. "It's over."

And no matter what the outcome,

You better accept it.

Something tore through the clouds above, ripping through like a furious comet before plummeting into the ground. The helicarrier quaked as something made impact, dust and debris erupting into the air, forming a dense shroud. The Really, Really, Incredibly Destructive Machine stumbled back, momentarily blinded by the cataclysmic arrival.

The Delightful Children grunted, raising their hands to shield their eyes from the plumes of smoke and rubble kicked up in the aftermath.

The dust settled, and the two red eyes of HIPPIE-HOP bored into their souls, a smaller silhouette emerging to stand atop his snout.

I CAN CUT RIGHT THROUGH STEEL

There, in the midst of the chaos, stood Kuki. Her posture was unwavering, arms confidently crossed over her chest. The emerald green poncho armor she wore billowed dramatically in the gusts of wind created by HIPPIE-HOP's descent. Her eyes, fierce and determined, glinted with an unyielding resolve.

I CAN BURY THE PAIN

Kuki's form was framed by the giant bunny robot's towering presence, a juxtaposition of delicate grace and immense power. The Delightful Children from Down the Lane watched in stunned silence, their mechanical behemoth challenged by the sheer audacity of HIPPIE-HOP's arrival.

So go down for a second,

With a fluid, almost ethereal motion, Kuki leaped from HIPPIE-HOP's snout. She descended gracefully, her form a blur of green and gold against the stormy backdrop. As she neared the cockpit, a hatch opened, and she landed with perfect precision inside the heart of her mechanized guardian.

Just get out of my way.

In the cockpit, Kuki's hands moved with practiced ease, activating the controls. A sleek Kunoichi helmet descended from the ceiling, settling onto her head. Made from repurposed stainless steel kitchenware, the helmet gleamed under the cockpit's lights. Its unconventional design was her testament to the ingenuity of 2x4 technology, a hallmark of Kids Next Door's resourcefulness and creativity.

Every detail of the helmet spoke of battles fought and won, of everyday objects transformed into tools of heroism. The metal surface was polished to a reflective sheen, yet it retained the subtle imprints of its past life—a wok, a saucepan, each dent and scratch telling a story of improvisation and triumph.

You cheat, and you steal

As the helmet clicked into place, Kuki's gaze sharpened. The display screens around her flickered to life, casting a determined glow across her face. HIPPIE-HOP responded to her command, its massive limbs shifting into a battle-ready stance. The colossal bunny robot's eyes glowed with an inner light, mirroring the fierce spirit of its pilot.

I'm not letting it go.

HIPPIE-HOP narrowed his eyes as he crouched low, powerful legs coiling like springs.

So take this as a lesson,

Kuki cutely tilted her head, giggling behind the mask. "Nah. I'm just getting started, you silly geese, you."

'CAUSE THAT'S ALL THAT WE KNOW!

With a burst of kinetic energy, they leaped, claws extended. The bunny mech's missiles fired from hidden compartments in its hide, streaking through the air toward the towering enemy. Explosions erupted across the Incredibly Destructive Machine's hull, but the beastly contraption shrugged off the initial assault, its tentacles whipping through the smoke with deadly precision.

The Delightful Children piloted their machine with cold efficiency, their eyes narrowing as they maneuvered the mechanical limbs to intercept HIPPIE-HOP mid-air. A tentacle lashed out, aiming to skewer the bunny mech, but Kuki's reflexes were sharp. She twisted HIPPIE-HOP in mid-flight, the bunny mech corkscrewing through the air and narrowly evading the attack.

HIPPIE-HOP landed on the ground in a crouch, its claws digging into the earth. Without missing a beat, it sprang sideways, dodging a giant spiked mallet that came crashing down where it had just been. The ground shook with the impact, sending shards of debris flying in all directions. Kuki's eyes glowed with determination as she directed HIPPIE-HOP in a rapid series of evasive maneuvers, the mech darting and weaving with the grace of a predator.

The Incredibly Destructive Machine retaliated with a barrage of weapons, its flaming chainsaws revving up with a deafening whirr. The machine's metal tentacles lashed out again, each tipped with razor-sharp blades. HIPPIE-HOP's claws flashed as it parried the attacks, sparks flying with every clash of metal.

HIPPIE-HOP propelled itself into the air once more, launching it high above the battlefield. From its elevated position, the bunny mech released another volley of missiles, targeting the joints of the Incredibly Destructive Machine's spider legs. Explosions rippled through the air, and the behemoth staggered, its legs buckling under the force.

Seizing the advantage, HIPPIE-HOP descended in a rapid dive, its claws glowing with energy. Kuki guided the mech into a devastating slash, tearing into the side of the Incredibly Destructive Machine. Metal screeched and sparks flew as the bunny mech's claws carved deep gashes into its opponent's armor.

But the Delightful Children were not to be outdone. With a series of calculated movements, they activated hidden compartments within their machine. Giant spiked balls on chains whirled out, swinging towards HIPPIE-HOP with crushing force. Kuki reacted instantly, HIPPIE-HOP's legs springing it backward in a series of nimble hops. The spiked balls smashed into the ground, leaving craters in their wake.

The Incredibly Destructive Machine's tentacles coiled and struck with renewed fury, but HIPPIE-HOP danced around them, its movements a blur. The bunny mech's claws flashed, severing a tentacle with a clean swipe. The severed limb crashed to the ground, writhing before it went still.

From their cockpit, the Delightful Children growled. As a certain light flashed, their lips sprouted devious grins as Lenny's thumb flicked up a panel. Countless equations flashed before their eyes, lining their sights as they waited for the bunny to land right where they wanted it. "Kuki, would you be a dear…"

HIPPIE-HOP's ears twitched, sensors picking up a massive energy build-up from the enemy mech. Kuki's eyes widened as she saw the Incredibly Destructive Machine's center glowing with a malevolent light, preparing to unleash a devastating energy beam.

"…AND STAND STILL!"

In a split-second decision, Kuki triggered HIPPIE-HOP's ultimate defense mechanism.

A shield of neon green energy flared to life around HIPPIE-HOP, forming a protective barrier just as the energy beam lanced out. The beam struck the shield, and the air crackled with the clash of titanic forces. Kuki grit her teeth, holding the shield steady against the onslaught.

As the energy dissipated, HIPPIE-HOP's shield flickered and dropped. Kuki took a deep breath, eyes blazing with determination. With a swift command, she steered HIPPIE-HOP to leap forward once more.

Unfortunately, the defense shield's energy drain finally brought the bunny's state of disrepair to the forefront.

HIPPIE-HOP's movements began to stutter, a mechanical whine echoing through the battlefield. The robot's once-fluid agility faltered, each leap and dodge taking a fraction of a second longer to execute. Kuki's hands flew over the controls, frustration mounting as the response times lagged. The ancient mech was struggling, its systems strained by the intensity of the battle.

The Delightful Children noticed the hesitation, their eyes lighting up with malicious glee. "Look at your pathetic relic," they taunted, the Really, Really, Incredibly Destructive Machine advancing with renewed confidence. "You can't win with a broken toy!"

HIPPIE-HOP barely evaded another strike from the flaming chainsaws, the claws catching on the ground and sending sparks flying. Kuki's heart pounded in her chest, her mind racing to find a way to keep fighting. The mech stumbled, nearly toppling as its right leg seized up. The Delightfuls pressed their advantage, the machine's tentacles lashing out with vicious precision.

"And now, for our next trick," the Delightful cawed, whipping back dozens of chainsaws with a flourish. "We shall cut the rabbit and its brat IN HALF!"

Just as they were about to deliver a crushing blow, a tiny, light-blue blur shot across the sky.

A second later, HIPPIE-HOP's leg thumped against the ground, bouncing him out of the range just in the nick of time.

The Delightful Children fumed.

Kuki blinked and checked the right-leg read-out, the signals all in green. But the leg was stalled not even ten seconds ago. How did it—

"Y'know, the joints in his right back leg always did like to lock up at the worst time."

She gasped. Quickly, she flicked on the outer cameras, delighted to see a familiar face pop up.

"But don't you worry," Hoagie grinned, flicking a thumbs up as he hovered around HIPPIE-HOP's inner thigh. Aloft with his jetpack, he twirled his handy-dandy wrench with practiced flair. "Nothing a little Gilligan Elbow Grease can't fix!"

Kuki beamed. "Numbuh 2!"

"The ol' boy's overdue for a tuneup." He landed on the mech with a grace born from years of piloting and tinkering, instantly setting to work. He grinned, barely keeping his composure as he barked, "But don't worry, I'll help him bounce back from this! Hah haaa!"

"ARRRGGG!" The Delightful Children wanted to strangle something. Preferably the portly mechanic who was quickly becoming a thorn in their side. "Do you ever SHUT UP!?"

Hoagie bit his lip. "Oh, I've got so much material that it's not even BUNNY!"

"WE'RE GOING TO TEAR YOU TO PIECES!"

Hoagie scrambled across HIPPIE-HOP like a flea, his tools already in hand. He expertly maneuvered around the mech's frame, tightening bolts, reconnecting wires, and bypassing damaged circuits. His movements were quick and precise, honed by years of fixing Sector V's 2x4 technology on the fly. He narrowly dodged a tentacle swipe, zipping to another section of the mech to continue his repairs.

Kuki kept HIPPIE-HOP moving, doing her best to protect Hoagie while fending off the relentless attacks. Her eyes flicked between the battlefield and the diagnostics on her screen, trusting Hoagie to bring HIPPIE-HOP back to full strength. The bunny mech's glitches started to fade, its movements becoming smoother as Hoagie's repairs took effect.

The Delightful Children scowled, their frustration growing as HIPPIE-HOP regained its agility. They growled, sending the Really, Really, Incredibly Destructive Machine into a frenzy. Tentacles, chainsaws, and spiked mallets came at HIPPIE-HOP from all directions, but Kuki's renewed confidence and Hoagie's quick fixes kept them at bay.

With a final tweak, Hoagie reconnected the main power conduit, and HIPPIE-HOP surged with energy. Kuki felt the difference immediately, the controls responding to her touch with lightning speed. She smiled. "Thanks, Numbuh 2!"

HIPPIE-HOP launched into the air, its claws slashing through the incoming tentacles with newfound vigor. Missiles fired from its hidden compartments, targeting the joints and weak points of the Incredibly Destructive Machine. The battlefield erupted in a symphony of explosions and clashing metal as Kuki piloted HIPPIE-HOP with unparalleled finesse, avoiding danger while ensuring Hoagie's safety.

The bunny mech darted around the monstrous machine, its claws leaving deep gashes in the metal armor. Hoagie continued to work tirelessly, his presence a constant reassurance to Kuki. Together, they turned the tide of the battle, the Really, Really, Incredibly Destructive Machine beginning to falter under their relentless assault.

HIPPIE-HOP delivered a powerful kick, sending the enemy mech staggering backward. With a final leap, Kuki brought the bunny mech down upon the machine, claws piercing through its core. Sparks and smoke erupted from the behemoth as it collapsed, the Delightful Children's shouts of anger and disbelief echoing through the air.

As the dust settled, Kuki and Hoagie stood victorious atop HIPPIE-HOP, the mech's crimson eyes glowing brightly.

"Was a little touch and go," Hoagie chuckled, dusting his hands against his chest. "But we managed to carrot away the victory!"

Kuki snorted with giggles. "Tee hee, yeah! We really hopped to it, didn't we?"

HIPPIE-HOP happily closed his eyes, beeping in the affirmative.

Below, The Delightful Children heaved and listened in silence, their expressions unreadable behind their masks. For a brief moment, the facade of cruelty slipped, revealing a hint of something like regret.

Despite it all, Kuki and her friends fought back.

In the face of insurmountable odds, Kuki refused to back down.

Were…had they been wrong?

"I'll say," Hoagie laughed, oblivious to the turmoil brewing below. "Kicking delightful butt? It's just like the good ol' days!"

Frantic, the children began rubbing their temples as a headache came on. "The…good ol' days…"

Ah, yes, the good ol' days. The days where they waddled along, doing their chores, proof-reading their homework when suddenly in comes Sector V. Sector V, who just loved to barge into their own little world. Sector V would pop their bubble to smithereens and engage them. Sector V infuriated them because it made them think. They made them make gut decisions. They made them feel…exhilarated. Ecstatic. Dare they say, eager because they couldn't wait for them to come back to keep the game going!

Sad as it was to admit, Sector V barging in to ruin their day was about the only thing they had going for themselves for a while.

"The good ol' days…" Perhaps…perhaps Kuki was—

"I advise you not to disappoint me again."

The image of Father flashed in their mind. The thought of his disapproval brought forth a whine. If they failed him again…it would be just like the 'good ol' days' indeed.

The "good ol' days" where Sector V went home, back to their loving (or at least somewhat functional) families, and left them to clean up the mess.

The "good ol' days" where Father endlessly berated them for their failures, demeaning them for not being able to handle "five mangy little brats".

The "good ol' days" where Father punished them with leftover broccoli Sector V refused to eat and he paid too much money for those stick-to-your-tongue-until-you-swallow-it broccoli trap prototypes to go to waste.

The "GOOD OL' DAYS" where Father made their lives a literal hell because Sector V just wouldn't behave like they were supposed to!

"The good ol' days," they growled, red-hot anger licking the pits of their bellies. They suffered.

They were grounded because Sector V disobeyed Father.

And where was Sector V?

Where were the Kids Next Door when Father dealt out punishment to them?

"I advise you not to disappoint me again."

In those lonely, horrible moments in their rooms, the Delightful Children did not have Sector V.

They did not have the Kids Next Door. All they had was Father.

And when this over? When the Kids Next Door and Sector V leave them behind just as they did countless times before?

"I advise you not to disappoint me again."

"W-We won't, Father," they gulped. After a moment, they braved smiles and softly said, "We…we love you, Father."

He did not immediately respond. His gaze was focused solely on them, and they squirmed under it. The anger was gone; they had thankfully averted that. But it was hard to discern what emotions were plaguing him under the surface.

After a moment, he narrowed his eyes and simply said, "You better."

All they would have is Father.

The battlefield's silence was shattered by a sinister laugh as the Delightful Children, drawing upon the dark energy Father had imbued into their machine, initiated the backup protocol.

The air grew thick with a palpable malevolence, and the essence from Father's suit began to seep into the Incredibly Destructive Machine. It twisted and morphed, metal groaning and shrieking as the machine transformed into a monstrous flaming hydra, its ebony, metal scales shimmering with infernal power.

Fueled by their bitter rage, the Delightful Children's emotions fed the beast. It grew larger and more menacing, multiple heads rearing up and roaring in unison. Each head bristled with weapons, from flaming chainsaws to spiked clubs, now infused with Father's dark energy.

"Oh, yes," they laughed manically, faces wild as they pushed forth the levers. "JUST LIKE THE GOOD OL' DAYS!"

HIPPIE-HOP launched itself at the transformed machine, claws and missiles at the ready. But the hydra-like monstrosity was faster, stronger. It lashed out with its tentacles and chains, forcing HIPPIE-HOP to retreat and defend.

"The good ol' days where you laughed at our misery. The good ol' days where we suffered for your defiance," they roared, hate empowering each burning strike. "The good ol' days where you left us all ALONE!"

Hoagie, still making crucial repairs on the move, found himself targeted by the Delightful Children. A head of the hydra lunged at him, its maw wide open and blazing with dark fire.

"A-And what? You expect us to just believe you now? That everything is going to be okay because YOU say so!?" Tears leaked through, but they were numb to every emotion other than dark, chocolaty malice coating their souls. "None of you cared back then…WHY WOULD NOW BE ANY DIFFERENT?"

Kuki's eyes widened in horror. Without a second thought, she maneuvered HIPPIE-HOP to intercept, knocking Hoagie to safety but leaving herself exposed.

The hydra's heads converged on HIPPIE-HOP, striking with brutal force. The mech shuddered and staggered, each hit draining its power. A final, devastating blow sent HIPPIE-HOP crashing to the ground. Kuki's head slammed against the controls, and darkness enveloped her as she lost consciousness.

HIPPIE-HOP switched to autopilot, but its movements were sluggish and erratic.

"But this will make everything right," they said, desperately attempting to manifest their wishes into reality. A flaming tentacle caught HIPPIE-HOP's foot, unceremoniously slamming him into the ground. "E-Everything will go back to how it's supposed to be! Father will love us again, will make us cakes again! You'll see our way is the ONLY WAY!"

Again and again, HIPPIE-HOP was pummeled into the dirt, armor slowly chipping away with each blow. Inside his cockpit, Kuki's body was juggled in a jerky sway, the girl ignorant of the waking world's terrors.

"What's the matter, Sanban? Nothing left to say?" they cackled. Their machine continued to beat into the bunny-bot, years and years of bottled despair levied against his corroding hide. "Apparently, it is YOU who needs saving, brat! Awww, but who's going to rescue the frail little damsel? Will it be your weak, sniveling friends you love so much? Your messed up little family, you foolhardily excuse? Or maybe your precious Kids Next Door?"

A wicked notion wormed its way into their minds. It wouldn't be enough to just beat her here, no, no, no. They needed something more.

Such a delightful display deserved an audience!

The hydra heads chomped into HIPPIE-HOP's limbs, pinning him to the ground. As he struggled, multiple cameras and broadcasting equipment sprang up from their machine's hull. Lenny reached to his helmet's side, opening a secret compartment. From it, he unearthed a cobbled-together 2x4 thumb drive.

They stared at the tiny device. It had been a secret project of theirs, unknown to even Father himself. Using the last bit of the sooper-secret communication codes Cree Lincoln stole a lifetime ago and data they garnered during countless surveillance ventures, the Delightful Children, in their forced seclusion, managed to craft a miraculous one-use backdoor into the Kids Next Door Global Communication system.

It had been their last ace in the hole. A final Hail Mary they had concocted to win back their adoring Father's favor when all else failed. Before they could show it to him, he barged into their rooms, raving of Nigel Uno's return and a chance to redeem themselves. Then, it became unnecessary. A paperweight. Once they delivered Nigel to him, they would have no such use for a trinket.

But now, in this moment? They finally decided it had a use after all. Would it be for Father?

Oh no. This?

This would be all for them.

With a click, the thumb drive was inserted into their console. The screens showcased snowy static as all the cameras around HIPPIE-HOPE flashed to life. Tiny, smaller tendrils slinked out from their hull's underbelly, piercing their way into HIPPIE-HOP. The bunny bot cried in electrified agony, the Really, Really, Incredibly Destructive Machine using him as a conduit to broadcast its message.

A microphone popped from the center console, Bruce expertly catching it as they all turned to face the live feed with a smile.

"Why hell-oooooo, Kids Next Done For…"

---

On the Moonbase, Global Command was having a field day.

And not the "let's go outside and play with water balloons and pool noodles!" type of field day, either.

"M-Maybe it was an accident?" Numbuh Six-Shooter tried to explain. He and his two comrades were shuffling about the command deck, still trying to rationalize the earlier incident. A giant, formally out-of-commission bunny mech shooting itself to Earth as a kajillion miles-per-hour would throw a wrench in anyone's day. "Like, y'know…false alarm?"

Numbuh Five-Forty-Nine rolled his eyes. "Oh, sure! HIPPIE-HOP just decided to take itself out for a walk. That's TOTALLY what happened. Get real, you dingus!"

"C'mon, pardner. I'm just as blindsided as you."

"Can it, you two!" Numbuh Three-Sixty-Five snipped before fiddling with more knobs and plastic spoons that made up the communication console. "Hard enough to try and fix the comm static without you dweebs arguing behind me."

Numbuh Five-Forty-Nine groaned. "You mean you still haven't fixed it yet?"

"I DON'T SEE YOU DOING ANY BETTER, RON!"

"Have ya tried turning it off, then back on again?"

Numbuh Three-Sixty-Five and Five-Forty-Nine heads slowly and simultaneously turned toward the gunnery chief.

Numbuh Six-Shooter nervously fingered his collar. "I mean…it worked for my Pa…"

Before they could even entertain the idea, Numbuh Three-Sixty-Five screamed, and a deafening screech emanated from her headset. Across the board, screens flashed, and speakers wailed. The girl collapsed to the ground, folding in on herself.

Numbuh Five-Forty-Nine slid next to her, quickly tearing off the headset and tossing it on the sub-deck below. He cradled her head, concern lacing his features as he rubbed her ears. "You okay?"

"Ugh, I'll be fine," she grumbled. She blinked away the pain, ears ringing as she looked. "What just happened?"

"Why hell-oooo, Kids Next Done For. It's been quite a while, hasn't it?"

The three children froze, fear and terror running their their veins like ice as their eyes were glued to the screens. All around them, and no doubt all across the entire base, every computer screen, television, even handheld gaming system was filled with five sinister faces. Five delightful faces at that.

Their visage plastered over every terminal, the Delightful Children grinned, eyes heavy with diabolic intent. "No doubt your minds are running rampant with useless, unoriginal questions. Rest assured, your eyes do not deceive you."

In a blistery part of the Antarctic, dozens of whimpering cadets huddled behind the Arctic Commander, the kid-in-charge trying to make sense of the evil children who had just hijacked their signal.

"We've returned from our little…sabbatical and are ready to get back to basics, destroying you ungrateful whelps for our beloved Father."

Operatives worldwide watched in horror as the broadcast continued. The science division of the Deep Sea Lab reached for their emergency inhalers. Barbers at the Hairstyle Headquarters let their jaws unhinged, eyes bulging at the screen, as they took a bit too much off the top of one child's afro. Even in sector J, the Delightful Children soaked up the spotlight as the Jamaican operatives let their mango smoothies clatter to the floor.

"But don't touch that dial, or else you'll miss tonight's main event. A welcoming back gift from us, for us," they said. They slowly stepped aside, cloaked in shadows and flames, loomed over HIPPIE-HOP's fallen form. "Behold, your precious commander, defeated and broken."

The feed cut to inside HIPPIE-HOP's cockpit, the inner cameras zooming in on Kuki's unconscious form.

"Witness the folly of clinging to childish ideals. See how your hopes and beliefs crumble under the weight of the REAL world!" The Delightful Children's voices dripped with venom, each word a dagger aimed at the hearts of the watching operatives.

From the Alaskan tundra to the bustling streets of Sector C's metropolitan hub, operatives stared at their screens, slack-jawed and horrified. Kuki, their beacon of hope, lay slumped over in her cockpit, motionless and vulnerable.

The Delightful Children leaned into the camera, their eyes blazing with a twisted mix of triumph and bitterness. "Look at her," they snarled. "Your so-called Supreme Leader, helpless! You thought she could protect you and help you follow your dreams? Foolishness!"

In the scorching deserts of Sector S, operatives clutched their water bottles, eyes wide with fear. In the lush jungles of Sector R, cadets held their breaths, unable to tear their eyes away from the nightmare unfolding in front of them.

"Listen well, Kids Next Door," the Delightful Children continued, their voices rising with fervor. "This is the real world. A world where dreams are crushed, where hope is a lie. You fight, and you struggle, but for what? To delay the inevitable? To cling to fantasies that will never come true?"

In the Moonbase's command center, the operatives were frozen in place, their hearts pounding with dread. Numbuh Six-Shooter's hands trembled on the controls, Numbuh Three-Sixty-Five's face was pale, and Numbuh Five-Forty-Nine's eyes were locked on the screen, a mixture of anger and helplessness etched into his features.

The Delightful Children's monologue grew more impassioned, their words laced with rage and sorrow. "We know the truth because we lived it! We were like you once, clinging to dreams and defiance. But we learned the hard way that adults know best. That surrender is the only path to survival. Father showed us the way, and now we will show you. Whether you want it or not."

They gestured grandly to the destruction unfolding around HIPPIE-HOP, the hydra machine's tentacles poised to deliver the final blow. "This is the end of your rebellion, the end of your dreams. Accept it. Grow up. Join us, and perhaps you'll have a future—a future where you know your place, where you conform and do as you're told!"

As the broadcast continued, the Delightful Children's words echoed across the globe, a chilling reminder of the darkness that threatened to snuff out the light.

"Just obey!" The Delightful Children's voices cracked as the hydra heads moved in perfect synchrony with their raised arms, delivering blow after merciless blow to HIPPIE-HOP. The giant bunny mech shuddered under the onslaught, its armor splintering and cracking, each strike echoing like the death knell of innocence.

"Pay the price!" they screamed, their voices raw with emotion. Tears streamed down their faces, but they couldn't stop. They didn't understand why the tears came, but they felt the weight of years of bitterness and betrayal pushing them forward.

HIPPIE-HOP's once-mighty form crumpled under the relentless assault sparks flying as the machine struggled to respond on autopilot. The hydra heads pummeled it into the ground, metal screeching against metal, each impact a symphony of despair.

"Sell your dreams because it doesn't matter in the end!" The Delightful Children's cries grew more desperate, their faces contorted with rage and sorrow. The camera feeds showed them, their eyes wild, tears mingling with sweat as they unleashed their fury.

All around the world, the Kids Next Door watched in horror, their hearts breaking for their fallen leader and the tragic figures of the Delightful Children.

They saw not just enemies but children who had been twisted by their desire to be loved and accepted, even if it meant abandoning who they truly were.

"Nothing does!" The Delightful Children's voices trembled, their anger and sadness blending into a heartbreaking cacophony. The hydra machine continued its brutal assault, the flaming tentacles slashing and hammering at HIPPIE-HOP, each blow resonating with the weight of lost innocence.

In HIPPIE-HOP's cockpit, Kuki remained unconscious, her body limp against the controls. The mech's systems flickered, struggling to maintain any semblance of defense as it was systematically dismantled.

"Everyone fails you!" The Delightful Children's voices cracked again, their words a mix of rage and despair. The hydra heads smashed into HIPPIE-HOP's limbs, tearing at the metal with a ferocity born of years of pain and disillusionment.

"Everyone goes away!" They sobbed, their faces a mask of anguish as they continued to pummel the once-mighty bunny mech. The hydra machine's tentacles whipped through the air, flames licking at HIPPIE-HOP's battered form, each strike a testament to their fury and heartbreak.

"EVERY. THING. ENDS!" The final cry was a guttural scream, filled with the pain of children who had lost their way, who had chosen to be loved for something they were not because the alternative was too painful to bear.

The world watched in stunned silence; the tragedy of the Delightful Children laid bare for all to see. Victims of a cruel twist of fate, children who had believed that the only way to survive was to abandon their dreams and conform to the expectations of adults like Father.

The feed cut back to the devastated cockpit of HIPPIE-HOP, zooming in on Kuki's form. "Say goodbye to your Supreme Leader," they taunted, their voices echoing through every sector. "Say goodbye to your hopes!"

The Delightful Children stood in their machine, looming over the HIPPIE-HOP, their chests heaving, faces streaked with tears and soot. They stared down at the broken bunny mech, their breaths coming in ragged gasps, the weight of their actions settling heavily upon them.

For a moment, the world seemed to stand still. The memories they had buried deep within their minds surfaced with a vengeance. Scenes of their past lives as Sector Z played like a cruel, fragmented movie in their minds. The laughter they shared, the missions they undertook, the camaraderie they felt—all of it came rushing back, overwhelming them.

"But I believe in second chances. Even for stuffy, uptight dorks like you."

In that instant, Kuki's image shifted. She wasn't just their enemy anymore; she was a reminder of someone they once knew, someone who had led them with kindness and strength.

The name surfaced, a whisper from their past, a name they had long forgotten in their descent into bitterness.

"Rebecca…" they gasped the word escaping their lips in a collective murmur. Their eyes widened in shock and pain, the realization hitting them like a tidal wave.

They had lost themselves and become something unrecognizable in their quest for acceptance and love.

But there was still one final act to complete.

One last button to press to ensure their victory.

Their finger hovered over the button, trembling. They looked into the camera, their faces a mixture of anger, sorrow, and regret.

"Say goodbye, Kids Next Door," they said, their voices barely above a whisper, the weight of their decision hanging heavy in the air.

But just as they were about to press the button, something within them seized up.

Inside their minds, a battle raged.

Inside them, for the first time in forever, five voices screamed, "NO!"

The Delightful Children's screams echoed through the air, their bodies convulsing as they fought for control. The camera feed showed their faces contorted in agony, the internal battle visible to all who watched. The hydra machine faltered, its movements becoming erratic. The struggle within them was mirrored in the machine's instability. The cameras wavered, the feed flickering as the battle raged on.

For a brief moment, the Delightful Children's eyes cleared, a flicker of recognition and remorse shining through. But the darkness was relentless, and the struggle continued, the outcome uncertain.

Below, HIPPIE-HOP cracked open an eye. His artificial intelligence was waning. His strength was sapped by the hydra's maws. His armor only had one last layer left. And as the children above him struggled, the dark flames of the hydras began to puppeteer the machine. The tendrils coiled back, flexing for one last strike whether the Delightful Children had the nerve to carry it out or not.

HIPPIE-HOP closed his eyes, channeling all his processes into one final prayer.

"…please…help…Kuki…"

---

On Moonbase Zero, as tragedy played out on the screens before them, Numbuh Five-Forty-Nine paced the deck. Feeling enraged and utterly helpless.

"What are we gonna do, man?" he asked, desperation thick in his cry. He grabbed onto Numbuh Six-Shooter, shaking him as if answers would fall from his pockets. "WHAT ARE WE GONNA DO!?"

Numbuh Three-Sixty-Five looked on, knees trembling as waves of terror rolled over her one after the other. She…she was just a communications officer. She relayed general messages from the Moonbase to sectors the world over. But what good would those talents do her now?

"…please…"

Her eyes snapped to her headset. Curiosity getting the best of her, she gingerly knelt down, picking it up and placing it to her ear. She blocked out her friend's panic, narrowing her eyes to focus. The only noise greeting her was static, but she swore she heard something…

"…please…help…Kuki…"

As the frail, monotone plea came through, Numbuh Three-Sixty-Five looked up, some strange feeling bubbling up inside as she looked out the observation deck, seeing Earth down below. All at once, her mind calmed, one thought prevailing through it all. "…sir."

A thought of her Supreme Leader.

"…And even though I may not be there to face it all with you physically, know that I'll always be with you where it matters. Because I believe in each and every one of you."

Those had been the last words Kuki had said. Words delivered when they were all ready to tuck in and quit. But they didn't quit. No, they didn't quit. Because Kuki wouldn't let them.

Numbuh Three-Sixty-Five nodded, refastening her headset.

"Numbuh 549!" she snapped, voice steel as she threw herself to the communication terminal. "Stop freaking out, and re-route auxiliary hamster and gerbil power to all outbound transmission relays!"

It's like I'm seein' double vision,

The boy blinked, dropping Six-Shooter in a heap. "Um, what?

"Can you, like, just get with the program?" she asked, casting an exasperated glare over her shoulder. "I'm gonna need all that juice to transmit a reverse signal."

Take a seat. I'm on a mission.

"…you lost me."

The girl dragged a hand down her face. "Look, I don't what their sitch is," she said, gesturing to the Delightful Children, who were in the middle of some sort of conniption. She then pointed to the screen showing the motionless Kuki, "But whatever it is has those dorks distracted. We gotta push through to the Supreme Leader and get her back in the fight!"

"And how are we supposed to do that?"

We got everything to gain.

"This system? It's my baby," she said, determined as she glared at the image of the Delightful Children. "Those losers aren't the only ones who can put on a global broadcast. I'm gonna jack every darn sector into HIPPIE-HOP's comm-link. We're gonna give Numbuh 3 the wake-up call of the century!"

Numbuh Five-Forty-Nine blinked in awe. "Whoa…wait. Can you even do that?"

"Why not? It's like my dad says: anything is possible!" she winked with a casual flip of her hair. "Numbuh 3 believes in us, so it's our turn to show her we believe in her!"

"…sounds good enough to me!" And with that, Numbuh Five-Forty-Nine jumped back into the commander's chair, fingers wiggling in anticipation. "Hooo, man, Numbuh 85 is gonna regret giving me the keys. I'm about to make this rock sing!"

To become everything you're not,

Numbuh Three-Sixty-Five grinned at his enthusiasm. She pounced on the console, fingers flying over the makeshift keys, wires, and gadgets buzzing to life. Panels opened and closed, gears and belts whirred, and tiny hamster wheels spun frantically as the auxiliary power rerouted to her station.

"Alright, let's see if this works," she muttered, flipping switches and adjusting dials. She connected one wire to another, sparks flying, and the static on her screen wavered.

"C'mon, c'mon…"

You just give it all you got

Suddenly, the entire system went dark.

"Ah, cheese and crackers!" Numbuh Three-Sixty-Five groaned, slamming her fists on the console in frustration. She slumped in defeat, staring at the lifeless screens. "We were so close…"

And take the pleasure with the pain.

Numbuh Six-Shooter coughed from behind her, shuffling his feet awkwardly. "Uh, Numbuh 365?"

"What?" she snapped.

"I, uh…" He scratched his head sheepishly. "I might've fixed it?"

Before she could respond, the screens flickered back to life, brighter and clearer than before.

Numbuh Three-Sixty-Five's jaw dropped. "How…?"

"I turned it off and then back on again," Numbuh Six-Shooter admitted, avoiding her gaze.

For a moment, there was only silence.

Then, Numbuh Three-Sixty-Five burst out laughing, relief washing over her. "Good job, Numbuh 6-Shooter!"

He blushed, tipping his helmet. "Aw, shucks. Just doin' my part."

Numbuh Three-Sixty-Five's expression turned serious as she turned back to the console. "Alright, let's get this message out there." She took a deep breath, her hands steady as she began to broadcast to all KND sectors. "Attention all Kids Next Door operatives, this is Numbuh 365 from Moonbase Zero. Our Supreme Leader is in grave danger. We need everyone to rally together and send her our support. We believe in her, and now she needs to hear it from us. Let's show those Delightful Doofuses what we're made of!"

She and the two boys smiled, kicking back and just waiting for the support to pour on in.

The only sound they heard was the occasional, hesitant murmur over the line.

"Um, guys, hello?" she said, frantically tapping her headset. "I know you can hear me. My mute button got fried earlier!"

Low, fearful whimpers were the common response.

"Guys…please," she begged, closing her eyes and praying. "I…I know it's scary. It's the Delightful Children. It's…it's Father. But she's down there right now fighting them. Fighting for all of us. We gotta fight too. Even when it's not fun. Even when we're afraid. We can't let them win."

Silence.

"Please," she cried. "…anyone?"

Silence once more.

Numbuhs Five-Forty-Nine and Six-Shooter lowered their heads, defeated.

And then, from the Arctic Base, "Um, Miss Numbuh Fwee, sir-ma'am?"

The comm trio jumped in shock.

Yeah, I can feel my fire awaken,

"You kissed my boo-boos that one time," a young cadet's voice filtered through, "so let me kiss yours now! Mwah-mwah! There. All betta!"

Numbuh Six-Shooter jumped excitedly. Five-Forty-Nine fist-pumped the air. "Can I get a Boo-yah!"

"That's it, guys!" Like a shot in the arm, Numbuh Three-Sixty-Five began managing the comm line, funneling any and all messages straight to HIPPIE-HOP's cockpit. "Keep it coming!"

No time for being complacent.

"You…you came to my birthday party when no one else did," a nasal voice spoke into the line. "So…so you gotta get up so I can come to your next one, sir!"

"Remember when you made me give my brother the last pineapple juice box?" another voice chimed in. "Well, turns out I'm deathly allergic to pineapple, so you saved my life! So let me save yours by shouting your ear off!"

"Tonight on KNN: Supreme Leader Numbuh 3 Kicks Major Butt!" Sector L reported in. "That better be the story I run tomorrow, sir! You can do it!"

"I keep telling the cadets how you keep smiling and never give up, even when things get tough," the Arctic Commander bellowed. "Don't make a liar out of me, sir! We're countin' on ya!"

There's a dream on the horizon,

As more messages flooded the airwaves, the skeleton crew on the Moonbase worked overtime to ensure they were heard loud and clear.

You know we gotta chase it!

But HIPPIE-HOP's plea for help transcended space, echoing through the cosmos, a desperate cry that cut through the void between stars and planets.

And when we get to where we're going,

Somehow, impossibly, it reached Saturn, deep within the gas giant's plushy core.

There, nestled among the swirling gases and rings, was RAMON-4.

Then we start the invasion.

"…please…help…Kuki…"

RAMON-4 paused, the metallic frame of his being quivering as he absorbed the plea.

He used his powers to view the situation on Earth and saw Kuki in peril, unconscious in the cockpit of HIPPIE-HOP, under the relentless attack of the Delightful Children.

Memories of his encounter with Kuki flooded back to him. Her kindness, her belief in second chances, her love for him despite his monstrous form.

A tear of joy welled up in his mechanical eye, a single droplet of emotion that reflected the depth of his gratitude and sorrow.

"I… I must help her…" RAMON-4 whispered, his voice trembling with static and emotion. He gathered his strength, drawing from Saturn's very core, and funneled it to his robot heart. The heart, a symbol of his love and gratitude, began to glow with a radiant, rainbow-colored light.

His circuits burned as the power grew. Fuses blew all around him, but he pushed on. His chassis slowly began to melt, but RAMON-4's only concern was that sweet little girl who saved him from an eternity of sorrow.

With one final, bittersweet smile, RAMON-4 released his heart. It shot toward Earth, a comet fueled by the colors of the rainbow, streaking through space. As the heart left him, RAMON-4 felt his power wane.

"Thank you… Kuki Sanban… because of you… I… know… love…" His voice faded as the light in his eyes dimmed. RAMON-4's massive form slowly shut down, his metallic limbs falling limp as he entered eternal rest.

In his final moments, RAMON-4's thoughts were filled with the warmth of Kuki's love, the fulfillment of his purpose. He had been a creation meant to be loved by children, and through Kuki, he had finally achieved that dream.

And now, he could finally help make hers a reality.

As it streaked towards Earth, the comet shimmered with vibrant hues, a testament to the wonder it carried.

The skies above the battlefield lit up with a dazzling array of colors as RAMON-4's heart descended. It pierced through the atmosphere, leaving a radiant rainbow trail in its wake. HIPPIE-HOP, battered and bruised, lay on the ground, struggling on autopilot as Kuki remained unconscious within.

The comet struck his chest, enveloping the bunny in a blinding light. For a moment, time seemed to stand still. Then, as the light began to dissipate, a miraculous transformation took place.

HIPPIE-HOP's metallic exterior shimmered and shifted, morphing into a new form infused with the rainbow essence of RAMON's love. The once-simple bunny mech now stood tall. Resplendent.

Best ME?

Reborn to kick major butt.

---

Kids Next Door: M.E.G.U.H-H.I.P.P.I.E-H.O.P.

Magically. Empowered. Galactic. Unit. Helps – Hare. Inspired. Piston. Powered. Ingenious. Exoskeleton – Hop. Over. Peril.

---

Nah, you must be mistaken.

His new form had long, powerful legs and a sleek, athletic build. The mech's fur-like plating gleamed with a rainbow motif, each hue representing a different aspect of love, hope, and resilience. Its ears, now longer and more flexible, cracked with energy.

MEGUH-HIPPIE-HOP's eyes glowed with prismatic brilliance as it took its first steps, each movement radiating grace and power. The transformation was complete, and the bunny mech now possessed an almost cosmic aura, a symbol of purity and strength.

With Kuki still unconscious but safely in the cockpit, MEGUH-HIPPIE-HOP prepared to continue the fight, its rainbow-infused form ready to protect and inspire.

The love and sacrifice of RAMON-4 had given them a second chance, and they would not let it go to waste.

The silhouette hydra coating the Incredibly Destructive Machine roared. The multiple heads writhed and snapped, their fiery breath illuminating the dark sky in flashes of malevolent orange and red.

You know I'll turn you into rust,

MEGUH-HIPPIE-HOP's eyes narrowed.

Grind you right down to dust.

MEGUH-HIPPIE-HOP launched itself forward with the grace of a ballerina, twirling mid-air to evade a stream of fire. Its movements were fluid and precise, each dodge and spin reminiscent of a dancer on stage, embodying Kuki's spirit of joy and beauty. As it landed, it executed a pirouette, kicking off the ground to deliver a devastating blow to one of the Hydra's heads.

You thought you were the best?

The head exploded in a shower of sparks, but two more grew back in its place, roaring with fury. The Hydra Machine retaliated with a barrage of chainsaw strikes and flaming whips, each attack intended to crush and burn. MEGUH-HIPPIE-HOP dodged and weaved through the onslaught, its elegant movements a stark contrast to the Machine's brutal force. It leaped high into the air, flipping gracefully to avoid a spiked mallet, then descended with a powerful kick that sent another head crashing to the ground.

Well, you haven't. Met. US.

But the Hydra's rage was insatiable.

From the Machine's hull, more weapons emerged, claws and metal tentacles lashing out with relentless aggression. MEGUH-HIPPIE-HOP danced through the chaos, its every motion a blend of combat and choreography. It slid under a whip, sprang into a split to evade a flaming chainsaw, and spun in a grand jeté, landing a powerful strike on another head.

I'll bring the fire and rain,

Yet, with every head it destroyed, more grew back, each more furious than the last.

The sky above seemed to darken as the Hydra Machine's power intensified, its many heads now almost overwhelming the tempest itself. The storm raged around them, lightning splitting the sky.

Call me "the hurricane.'

Amidst the chaos, MEGUH-HIPPIE-HOP found a moment to pause, its frame heaving from the exertion. It slowly raised a paw to its muzzle, mimicking the gesture of wiping away blood.

I'm not letting it go,

Despite the odds, despite the Hydra heads growing ever more numerous, it stood tall and defiant. Raising its fists, it faced the monstrous Machine with undiminished resolve, ready to continue the fight for the children it was sworn to protect.

'CAUSE IT'S ALL THAT I KNOW!

---

As the battle of titans raged around them from inside their cockpit, the Delightful Children fell to their knees, drenched in sweat, clutching their heads. Everything faded away.

The Machine.

HIPPIE-HOP.

The manor.

All of it eluded them as their minds spiraled down, down, down.

The five found themselves trapped, entombed in a deep, oppressive mindscape that shackled their very being. Around them was nothing but a hellish realm of darkness. Smoke and suffocating heat filled their air, burning their lungs with every gasp. Invisible flames licked at their skin, scorching them with an agonizing intensity.

They huddled together, their faces twisted in terror, as they stared at the only visible specter present: a demon of living shadow that loomed in the distance, its yellow eyes narrowing menacingly upon them.

"I am most unsatisfied, children."

They shivered as a voice—Father's voice?—echoed through the void, a cold and demanding presence juxtaposed against the fire surrounding them. The five whimpered. "W-We're sorry. We'll be good…w-we promise!"

"Good. Be loyal."

They cried tears of relief, nodding frantically. "We will."

"Be seen, not heard."

"We won't utter a peep."

"Clean behind your ears. Do ALL your chores."

"W-We shall!"

"Do as you are told, like good obedient children are supposed to."

The flames around them eased as they gave in, slowly submitting to the demon's will. It was better this way. This way, there would be no more uncertainty. This way, there would be no more nights on the street.

"…whatever you ask."

This way, they could at least be together.

"Now…GO TO YOUR ROOMS."

They froze in fear.

Going back to their rooms meant they failed.

Going back to their rooms meant never seeing the light of day again.

Going back to their rooms meant being separated from one another, a lifetime of isolation.

The rooms were prisons, their walls closing in, suffocating them with the weight of their despair.

To the Delightful Children, it was a fate worse than death.

For the first time ever, they hesitated.

Their hesitation was taken as disobedience. The demon roared in fury, lashing out with a dark, fiery claw to strike them down.

They cowered, bracing for the inevitable blow.

But it never came.

Trembling, they opened their eyes and were astounded to see the vestiges of their old selves standing defiantly between them and the demon.

Sector Z…

"We... we forgot," Numbuh Point One began, voice shaking but resolute. "But that girl…she helped us remember."

The Delightfuls furrowed their brows in confusion. That girl?

Sanban?

Numbuh Point Two spoke stronger. "We were afraid…but we refuse to be anymore."

Bruce and David Wigglestein—wait, no. They…they were Bruce Baron and David Duke. That's how they were. Had they always been so meek?

Numbuh Point Four smacked his fists together, the power in his plasma boxing gloves flicking to life. "We won't let fear control us any longer."

Lenny…Lenny Lord clenched his fists. He remembered the spark. The creativity. The pure fun of it all.

Cracking her neck and flexing her muscles, Numbuh Point Five stepped up. "We aren't adult-butt-kissing dorks. We are Kids Next Door.

Aghast, Constance Count took a step back. Did she truly used to be so brazen?

"You're…you're wrong," Alessandra…Alessandra Altolocato said. They were just five brats.

Just five kids in the face of an insurmountable terror that was going to consume them all unless they submitted.

She glared at her former self, angry tears spilling as she screamed, "It's too late for us to believe in some whimsical little fairy tale!"

"Numbuh 3 believes," Numbuh Point 3 smirked. She arched a brow. "You tellin' me some useless little girl can do something better than you, Miss Perfect?"

"T-that's not…" Alessandra tried to counter, but words and logic failed her.

She thought of Numbuh Three—the Last Supreme Leader pitting her silly ideals against their harsh truths. It ignited something in the pit of her belly, a warm feeling she wasn't aware she could feel anymore.

But Alessandra forced herself to recall the facts. Recall the reality of what happened.

She remembered the broken promise of her Supreme Leader that led them to this—that brought them to this sad fate.

"She can't win. Not against Father," Alessandra said softly. "None of us can…"

Numbuh Point Three frowned. She looked back at the demon, it growing, pulsating with burning energy to smite them all. She saw for what it truly was.

Not some demon.

Not even Father. But rather, a manifestation of their delightful little world, an oblivious prison they locked themselves into because the unknown was too scary to face.

The Sector Z operative looked down at her hands, their golden glow stark against the dark. She slowly cupped them around her heart, smiling as she decided to reclaim something she had long since thought dead.

Numbuh Point Three snorted. "So, what? You gonna give up?"

The Delightful Children lowered their heads. "We don't have a choice. We gave up that right long ago."

"Then I guess it's time we gave it back."

Shocked, the Delightful Children looked up just in time to see Sector Z, winding their fists back.

"Later, dorks!"

"…! Oh, you sneaky little pieces of—"

BAP!

With a unified strike, Sector Z knocked the Delightful Children out of the void.

Satisfied the children were finally safe—finally free to come to their own conclusion, Numbuh Point Two chuckled as he shook his fists. "'Bout time someone knocked some sense into…well…us, I guess."

Numbuh Point Five grimaced. "I can't believe we wore those lame-o dresses."

"YOU LITTLE BRATS!"

Sector Z turned around, dryly acknowledging the shadowy presence looming ahead. "Oh yeah, almost forgot about tall, dark, and ugly."

The demon roared, collapsing the entire realm around itself, forming into a fire vortex that began to draw in everything around it.

As he stared into the jaws of oblivion, Numbuh Point One held fast to his beret while his other hand lazily twirled his carrot nunchucks. "Always was curious how it woulda gone down all those years ago if we decided to bow out of the deal."

"I estimate our odds of success to be around 0.000000095%," Numbuh Point Four stated. He then snickered. "Good thing I was always terrible at math."

"Our 2x4 Tech wiz, everybody," Numbuh Point Two laughed. He turned away from Point Four and proudly looked to his leader. "Orders, sir?"

Numbuh Point Three stared ahead into the eye of the fiery inferno. Her hair whipped around her, the slight pull of the vortex tugging at her body. She ignored it, sharing one last look at her friends. Her team.

Her family.

"Whatever happens? Whatever those dorks decide and no matter what becomes of us? Fighting here, at the end, with you guys? This moment? It's gonna be," she smiled, a single tear slipping down her cheek as she giggled, "delightful."

Numbuh Point Five snorted, putting her hand in for the rest of her kids-in-arm to follow. "Five!"

"Four!"

"Three!"

"Two!"

"One!"

"Kids Next Door!" Alessandra cried as she and Sector Z jumped off the precipice with defiant smiles. The demon's roar filled the mindscape, but their battle cry was louder, more powerful. They would not be defeated. They would not be forgotten. They were Kids Next Door…"Battle Stations!"

…Forever and always.

---

Hours after she had felt compelled to call Kuki, Genki found herself sitting in her car, the engine idling softly in the dimly lit parking lot.

It was incredibly late, the world outside wrapped in a heavy blanket of night. She glanced at her phone, the screen glowing with the messages that had been her constant companions for the past few hours.

"I apologize for the short notice. Do you have any openings soon?"

The next message read, "I can make time if you can make it by my office this evening."

She reread the text, her heart pounding in her chest. The windows were down, allowing a cool breeze to sweep through the car, but it did little to soothe her anxiety. Ever since Kuki's hospitalization, she and her husband had been tirelessly working on their shortcomings, trying to be better parents and better partners. They had ungrounded their youngest, Mushi, and had taken time off work to focus on their family and themselves.

But despite their efforts, fear gnawed at her insides.

She had been missing her appointments, the ones that were supposed to help her navigate the storm of emotions and fears that plagued her.

She knew the importance of these meetings, yet she couldn't shake the dread that clung to her, whispering that she was failing.

Genki's grip tightened on the steering wheel, her knuckles white. Her mother's voice echoed in her mind, sharp and unforgiving.

"You've done enough. More than I ever expected. Going in there now would only prove you've failed. Prove you're useless."

The words stung each one a dagger to her already wounded heart. She felt the urge to flee, to escape the judgment she feared awaited her inside.

Her hand moved to the key, ready to turn the ignition and drive away to skip the session once again.

A sudden gust of wind blew through the open window, knocking something onto the passenger seat. She glanced over and saw Kuki's My First Rainbow Monkey doll, old and well-loved, smiling up at her with its familiar, comforting grin.

Her breath hitched, tears welling up in her eyes.

The doll was a reminder of the promise she had made so long ago under the cherry blossom tree.

A promise to be better, to be the mother her children deserved.

She remembered Kuki's small, lifeless form in the hospital bed and the desperation she had felt to reach her, to save her.

Taking a deep, shaky breath, Genki turned off the engine and picked up the doll, holding it close. The memory of her promise, the vow she had made to herself and her children, gave her the strength to push back against the fear and self-doubt.

"I promise to be better," she whispered, her voice trembling but resolute.

With renewed determination, she stepped out of the car, clutching the doll. The night air was cool against her skin, grounding her as she walked towards the building. Each step was a battle against the voices in her head, but she kept going, driven by the love she had for her family and the promise she had made.

As she approached the door, she took one last look at the doll, drawing strength from its simple, unwavering smile. She would not fail her daughter.

She would not fail herself. She had made a promise—a promise to be better—and she would see it through.

Pushing open the door, Genki stepped inside.

---

Everything was dark.

Too dark.

It was, dare she say, three dark.

So dark, tingly, and fuzzy. And not in a comforting way like when it was cuddle time with Self-Care Sunday Rainbow Monkey.

No, this darkness was cold, numb, and, quite honestly, extremely unpleasant. It was a zero-out-of-ten experience. A one-star review if she ever gave one.

How did she even get here anyway?

You fell unconscious due to blunt force trauma, silly, a nasal voice that sounded like her from her cadet days prattled on, which is a temporary loss of consciousness caused by a direct impact to the head or a violent force applied to the body. This trauma can result in a concussion, which is a mild traumatic brain injury. Patch it up with plenty of rest and get-well kisses! And acetaminophen. LOTS of acetaminophen.

Well, at least those academy days under Numbuh First Aid were good for something, Kuki figured.

Heeey, YOU'RE the one who wanted to be a nurse, her inner voice scolded, gotta study lots to take care of everyone!

That's right, she did want to be a nurse, didn't she? That's how it all started. A need to bring smiles and joy to kids who normally don't otherwise get it. It was a good goal. A noble goal.

Too bad it didn't pan out, Kuki bitterly mused. She felt herself being dragged down further. All that work, and she couldn't focus on the task at hand. All that training and she blew it. She was a failure, and no one wanted her around.

That's not true! that inner voice shouted.

Kuki furrowed her brow. Not…true?

Use your heart, the voice urged, and listen.

Kuki frowned and listened.

Silence.

Silence.

Silence…

"…please get up, sir!"

Kuki groaned.

"…get up, I believe in you!"

Her eyes fluttered behind closed lids. What was…

"You can do it, sir!"

"Don't give up!"

"Who…" Kuki weakly muttered, fighting and failing to open her eyes. "Who…are they…?"

For you, silly!

Barely, and literally just barely, Kuki managed to open her eyes to a mere squint. Her body was jelly, limbs weighed down by a bazillion tons of mushy gravy. Moving was a slog, an effort that took every ounce of her willpower. But as she forced her eyes open a little more, she could make out the tiniest light.

"I believe in you, sir!"

"C'mon, kick their butts already, sir!"

Warring against the void of unconsciousness, Kuki clawed her way towards the light. The voice of kids spurred her on. But just not any kids.

Her kids.

That's right, the voice cheered again.

"This is your chance!"

"Please win! You gotta win!"

Kuki's fingers scraped against the cold, dark ground, her limbs feeling like they were made of lead. She inched closer to the light, her breath coming in ragged gasps. Her inner voice kept urging her on, its tone firm and encouraging.

You're the Supreme Leader. You promised to protect everyone, to make them smile!

Kuki clenched her teeth, her determination renewed. She had to fight. She had to get up. She couldn't let them down.

Her kids, her friends, they were all counting on her.

More voices broke through the haze, each one a lifeline pulling her closer to consciousness.

"You're our hero, sir!"

"We believe in you!"

"I wuv you, Miss Mommy Supreme Leader!"

Kuki's eyes fluttered open wider, the light growing stronger. She could feel the warmth of their belief, their unwavering support wrapping around her like a comforting blanket. She focused on that light, on those voices, letting them guide her.

You have to fight for everyone's hopes and dreams, her inner voice reminded her. You have to be strong for them! You always have been!

As Kuki struggled forth, she thought of her family. Her mom.

"…my little Kuki."

Remind them they can be better!

She thought of her Global Command. Patrick.

"It's my honor to call you my Supreme Leader, sir."

Remind them they can still dream!

She thought of her friends. Abby. Hoagie. Nigel. Her Wally.

---

"…But you ain't mean when you don't gotta be. The job makes ya cynical, made me cynical, but that ain't your style. When the chips are down, you look for the good in everything, even when no one else wants to. It's what makes you a great Supreme Leader." Abby squeezed her shoulder and flashed a small ghost of a smile. "A better leader than dumb ol' Numbuh 5 ever was…"

---

…Hoagie belly laughed as he pulled her into his own bear hug, though he could never match her unique brand of hugocity. "Aw, c'mere you! You haven't changed a bit, Kooks!"

"I-I h-have t-t-too," she whined, too caught up in all to put on her serious mask. "I-I g-got t-taller, c-cuter, and-HIC-and-HIC-I'm the Supreme-HIC-Supreme Lead-eeer!"

"That's awesome," Hoagie praised, patting her back as she succumbed to a bout of hiccups. Once she calmed down, he held her at arm's length and smirked. "Bet those kids have been driving you bananas, huh?"

"Super bananas," Kuki giggled, composing herself. She recoiled as a wave of guilt hit her. "I-I'm so sorry. If I had been stronger at the grove-"

"Nu-uh! No bad jokes on this flight, kid. 'Sides, you're probably the strongest of us all. I've seen what happens when we get between you and a thermostat…"

---

"…Oh yeah, I'm sure they'll understand me abusing my power and breaking the rules for my friends," Kuki said sarcastically. She brought up her knees, resting her arms and chin on them as she slumped. "Some Supreme Leader I turned out to be."

"Hey, I know good Supreme Leaders, both on and off Earth. You're definitely one of the best. No bias whatsoever here," Nigel said, placing a comforting hand on her back. He gave her a cheeky smirk. "Besides, you're the leader. You make the rules…"

---

"…I LOVE YOU!" Wally shouted, voice matching the intensity of the storm around them. "I-I love you, Kuki Sanban! I love you, like, more than anything!"

---

Remind them of the love, the joy - of everything that makes you feel that mushy-gooey feeling deep inside! Remind them why you fight!

With a final, desperate effort, Kuki dragged herself towards the light, her vision clearing. She could see the battle raging around her, the Incredibly Destructive Machine looming ominously over MEGUH-HIPPIE-HOP. The Hydra heads snapped and hissed, spewing flames and wielding deadly weapons, trying to crush any opposition.

But Kuki wasn't going to let that happen. Not now. Not ever.

Remind them why you'll always believe!

As she reached the light, a surge of energy coursed through her. Her eyes snapped open, fully awake and alert.

Remind them who you are!

"…my little Kuki."

Kuki was back.

And she was ready to fight.

REMIND THEM WHY YOU'RE THE SOOPREME LEADER OF THE KIDS NEXT DOOR!

WILL THE WHOLE WORLD

KNOW

YOUR

NAME!?

With a primal scream, Kuki seized control of MEGUH-HIPPIE-HOP. The rainbow essence flared to life, surrounding the robot in a brilliant aura of color and power. The effect was immediate and awe-inspiring. MEGUH-HIPPIE-HOP moved with the grace of a dancer, its movements fluid and precise. It ducked and weaved, avoiding the Hydra's attacks with ease.

WHEN WE DANCE

WITH

DESTINY!?

With a startled gasp, the Delightful Children snapped from their daze. They glanced around, frenzied and wild, and screamed as they jostled back and forth.

I'VE BEEN THERE

The Arctic Base (and even some of the Arctic Prison) erupted into cheers as MEGUH-HIPPIE-HOP kicked a massive fireball back at the hydra head who spewed it.

AND I'VE SEEN IT

Across the world, Sectors A through Y jumped for joy as MEGUH-HIPPIE-HOP leaped atop the Machine's hulking frame with the agility of a spring-loaded dancer, its feet barely touching the surface before it unleashed a torrent of rapid-fire kicks. Each strike was a blur of motion, a relentless barrage of power and precision that pounded against the metal hull like a mad bunny thumping against the floor in a frenzy.

I'M NEVER GONNA STOP BELIEVIN'

On the Moonbase, Numbuhs Three-Sixty-Five, Five-Forty-Nine, and Six-Shooter hugged each other, crying tears of relief as the rhythmic pounding of Kuki's strikes sent shockwaves through the Machine, causing it to shudder and stagger, its numerous heads momentarily disoriented. Seizing the opportunity, the bunny mech executed a graceful spin, his ears wailing away against the machine, each movement fluid and powerful, delivering blow after blow with unyielding intensity.

YOU'LL

FIND

YOUR

FLAME!

Dazed and confused, the Delightful Children scrambled to regain control. But Kuki didn't relent. Directing her mech, she and MEGUH-HIPPIE-HOP moved as one as he grabbed both sides of the hull, claws digging into it as he bounded up, breaking through the clouds.

As MEGUH-HIPPIE-HOP soared through the air, carrying the Incredibly Destructive Machine with it, Kuki's determination blazed brighter than ever. The hydra-infused monstrosity writhed and thrashed, its multiple heads lashing out wildly. Flames erupted from its mouths, and its mechanical appendages swung like deadly weapons. But Kuki held firm, channeling all her resolve into every movement.

With all her might, Kuki bellowed as she pulled back the controls; MEGUH-HIPPIE-HOP responded with a primal roar as he twisted and flipped in mid-air, executing a perfect arc that culminated in a Devastating, Really, Really Incredibly Destructive Friendly Friend Rainbow Monkey Goodbye Suplex.

The machine crashed down hard onto the port wing of the massive helicarrier, shaking the entire structure with its impact. Metal screeched and groaned as the hull buckled under the weight of the colossal machines.

Amidst the billowing smoke and debris, MEGUH-HIPPIE-HOP wasted no time. It pinned the hydra machine down with its powerful limbs, holding it firmly in place. The rainbow essence emanating from MEGUH-HIPPIE-HOP's transformed body shimmered with intensity, casting vibrant hues across the battlefield.

From within the mech's chest cavity, a compartment opened, revealing Kuki clad in her battle gear. She clutched a Go! ROADSIGN staff.

Her symbol of office.

---

Kids Next Door ROADSIGN Class Weapon: G.O!

Designated Wielder: Soopreme Commander Numbuh Three.

GIVE-IT-ALL-YA-GOT. OPERATIVE!

---

Before the Delightful Children's broadcast cut out, the last thing the Kids Next Door saw was their Supreme Leader gleaming with determination as she descended like a vengeful angel of redemption. With a swift and graceful dive, she aimed straight at the heart of the Hydra – the now exposed hull of the Incredibly Destructive Machine.

It was a whirlwind of motion as Kuki descended upon the deck of the Destructive Machine, her ROADSIGN scythe gleaming in the rain. Smaller Hydra heads sprouted up like relentless weeds, snapping and hissing, aiming to overwhelm her. But Kuki moved like the Grim Reaper himself, every strike of her scythe a calculated movement of grace and power.

With a swift flick of her wrist, Kuki sliced through the air, severing Hydra heads with precise strikes. Each swing was met with a burst of rainbow energy, dispersing the dark manifestations with radiant light. Her movements were a symphony of destruction and hope, a relentless force cutting through the darkness that threatened her friends.

Below on the helicarrier's lower levels, Hoagie gathered with Abby and Wally, their minds racing as they watched Kuki's battle unfold above. Seeing his girlfriend move wild and free, Wally's heart swelled with pride. "That's my girl!"

Abby caught him in a surprise headlock, giving him a gentle noogie. "Nah, baby, that's OUR girl!"

Their joy was cut short as they saw more and more heads suddenly sprout behind Kuki. The odds seemed overwhelming, but while Abby and Wally panicked, Hoagie's mind was already spinning with possibilities.

He glanced at Abby, then at Wally, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"Hey, how much GUMMA-GUARD gum do you have left?" Hoagie asked Abby.

"Just one stick," Abby replied, her voice tinged with curiosity at Hoagie's sudden interest in gum.

"And that black market candy? It's from Henrietta, yeah?" Hoagie pressed on. At her nod, he smirked. "She sneak in any of that fancy Japanese candy from our Eastern operatives?"

A grin spread across Abby's face as she caught on to his train of thought.

Wally watched them with growing confusion. "What's the plan?"

Hoagie chuckled, a wild gleam in his eyes. "Something so incredibly stupid that it HAS to work."

Above, Kuki weaved through the field of hydras, driven by a singular purpose as she ran toward the cockpit. She skidded to a halt, cursing as a massive wall of ebony heads sprouted to halt her efforts. She held up her staff, eyes darting back to HIPPIE-HOP and the crumbling wing. They were running out of time!

"Over here, ya overgrown garden snakes!"

Kuki and the hydra heads looked down.

Their attention drawn, Abby shot a thumbs up down at Hoagie. Nodding, the boy braced himself against the ground, and using the arms of his SPORK and the thrust of his jetpack, he catapulted Abby into the air. As the lithe girl soared, she reached into her pouch, fisting a handful of marked, hard-candy shurikens.

"Have some international sugar," she shouted. At the peak of her glide, she expertly chucked the shurikens towards the heads. "Free express shipping, suckas!"

As the shurikens zipped through the air, and right before they connected with the hydra heads, in a poof of sugary smoke, they triple-fied in size and weight, all in due part to the secret shinobi craftsmanship of the Japanese Kids Next Door.

While the weapons cut through hydras, Hoagie hefted up his JAW-CRUSHER, patting the side as he looked up at his 'ammunition'. "All set, pal?"

From the nozzle of the JAW-CRUSHER, Wally nodded, smirking as ravenously chewed up the last stick of gum.

"Then I hope those dorks remembered to fasten their seatbelts," Hoagie said, lining up his sights with the hull. "'Cause this one's gonna pack a WALLY-OP!"

Wally stopped chewing, "Hey! That's not the line we agreed—"

"READY SET GO!"

BWOOOOOSH!

Any further criticisms Wally had were lost to the wind as he was shot through the air. Halfway through his flight, Wally pressed his lips together and blew like his life depended on it. With the final stick of gum, one final GUMMA-GUARD shield encased his body. He became the first ever, Wally-sized gumball rocket.

With a SLAM, he collided against the Incredibly Destructive Machine's hull.

The machine teetered, HIPPIE-HOP further pinning it down as it lost balance. As the GUMMA-GUARD shield shattered against the machine, the residue spread over the entire hull, trapping the hydras in stretchy, sticky bubble gum and extinguishing any future chance of Father's power spreading.

As she neared the ground, Abby chucked her hat, which ballooned into a massive cushion to soften her fall. As she landed, she twisted herself around, spreading her arms to catch and pull in Wally. As she cradled him against her chest, she fondly laughed, "Guess that's one way to use that hard head of yours."

Wally merely responded with a dizzy, dopey smile.

Above, with her advance clear, Kuki grinned, somersaulting over the gummified hydra and diving right toward her goal.

Frazzled and shaken, the Delightful Children gasped as Kuki dove straight for them. With the cockpit glass shattered, it left them wide open. As Kuki swung up her scythe, the five cowered and cried, thinking this was finally the end. "W-Wait…PLEASE DON'T!"

There was the sound of steel slicing through the air, followed by an explosion.

The Delightful Children flinched…

…then blinked, looking down to see themselves okay.

And still in one piece.

Confused, they raised their heads, oddly watching as Kuki slashed into the deck just a few feet in front of them. Did the stupid girl miss?

Kuki reached down into the tear she created, heaving as she pulled Nigel free from his bindings.

Realizing their only ticket back into Father's good graces slipping through their fingers, they could only pathetically cry, "…no."

With a groan, Nigel felt himself pulled to his feet, his numerous chains and cuffs being torn away. He lowered his shades, eyes adjusting to the light of the outside. Was this some ploy? Some gambit to lull him into a false sense of security? Those delightful deviants really have lost their minds if they think he was going to…

Thoughts of violence and revenge evaporated under the warmth of Kuki's wobbly smile. "Hey there, sillyhead."

He smiled warmly at her soft endearment. "Guess we went for three after all, eh?"

"Oh, stop," she laughed.

Before he could join in her laughter, he paused, noting that the wet streaks weren't just from the rain. His eyes filled with concern as Kuki began quietly sobbing despite her smile only growing. "K-Kuki, are you okay?"

"Yeah. Y-Yeah, I just…" she sniffled, everything catching up to her at once. She looked down at the boy. The boy she met in pre-school. The boy she met again when he took a chance and fought for her to be on his team. The boy who left them but despite everything still came back. Kuki wiped at her eyes. "L-Listen…it's been a long night. A-And I know this is gonna sound crazy, but I pretend. I pretend a loooot. Sometimes, I needed to. I needed to pretend because it was the only way to deal with anything."

Nigel slowly stood, eyes carefully analyzing her.

"I-I pretended not to hear the nasty things some operatives said about me. I pretended things were okay at home even though I knew…I-I knew…" she hiccuped, hugging herself, unable to finish her sentence. "For the longest time…pretending was the only way to feel safe."

Nigel's look softened.

"But…but when I joined sector V? With you guys? I…I didn't need to pretend so much. N-Not really," she smiled. "With you guys? It was safe."

Despite their sad state of defeat, despite a million urges to take advantage of this sentimental rubbish, the Delightful Children didn't. As Kuki spoke, something resonated with them, and they felt compelled to watch.

"And when you left? When we weren't sector V anymore? I was scared. Super duper, omega-ly scared! I was scared I would have to pretend again. That I couldn't be who I really was because nowhere would be safe," she whimpered. "But then…every time I almost gave in? I-I remembered the promise we all made. That promise? I-It made me want to protect the kid inside. Show her that maybe if I was brave, we wouldn't have to be scared."

Memories danced at the forefront, Kuki giving in to the urge to twirl and smile despite the tears falling from her eyes. "And you know what? I-I think it worked. Because after that, yeah, sometimes I found myself pretending again. I pretended to be the new Head Nurse and was good at it. I-I pretended to be worth Abby's trust to be Supreme Leader and took to it quickly. And after the grove? After I broke down in front of my family and my mom…when she promised to try and be better and thought I didn't hear? I pretended to believe her too. Fake it 'til you make it, right?"

Kuki looked up at the sky, closing her eyes and sighing as the raindrops tickled her face. She whispered, "Can I trust you with a secret?"

Nodding, Nigel softly replied, "Of course."

"…I don't think I was pretending," she admitted, a weight disappearing from her shoulders. Feeling lighter and lighter as her sobs grew. "I-I think I was worth my job. I… think I was worth their trust and respect. W-W-Worth t-the l-love I wanted to believe in more than anything…"

She opened her eyes, the streak of moonlight breaking through the clouds dancing in her eyes. She looked down, going to her waist and pulling out the Book of KND. She hugged it, squeezing it tight before, and, with trembling hands, held it to Nigel.

Gasping, Nigel stepped forth, carefully coiling his hands around the tome. Kuki's hand fell on his, her fingers intertwining with his own as she smiled.

"And I am worth it," she whispered, nodding. "We all are…no matter what any doo-doo-head says."

Slowly, she broke contact, and Nigel found himself the Book's keeper once more. He stared down at it, the rain somehow gliding effortlessly off its cover without leaving a mark. Its pages were pure and pristine despite the mud it toils it suffered while trading hands. It felt heavy, with a warmth that encouraged him to stand just a bit straighter. Just a bit prouder.

"S-so, um, yeah! I-I'm worth it, no matter what anyone thinks," she reaffirmed. She then stared at him hard, hesitant confidence flickering in her gaze as she leaned closer. "…no one."

Nigel slowly arched a brow, leaning away a tad in reflex. "Uh…yeah. I agree." Was, uh, he missing something here, or…?

"Argh, dammit!" Yep. He was definitely missing something. Kuki clenched his fists, pumping them as she angrily chanted to herself. "You can do this, you can do this, you can do this!"

Nigel risked a look back at the Delightful Children.

They merely shrugged, adding to the absurdity of it all.

"Didyoueverpretendwithme!?"

"…come again?"

Kuki exhaled a shaky breath. She inhaled again, slowly. Then, "Did…did you ever pretend with me? P-Pretend to…to believe in me?"

Nigel's mouth slightly parted.

"P-Pretend to believe in me. Pretend…pretend to trust me. Or…or just, with anything really," Kuki asked, raw and vulnerable as she swayed. "I just…after everything—no matter what happens next…I need to know. For me."

His lips crinkled into a rueful smile. "Kuki…"

"It's okay if you did!" she fumbled, fingers fidgeting against one another. "H-Honest! I-I know I w-wasn't the best nurse when I joined. And…and maybe sometimes I played with the hamsters too much. A-And, okay, maybe I could've toned it down with the Rainbow Monkeys while on missions…"

Nigel shook his head as he stepped forth.

"So I get it! Totally get it," she said, eyes closed and shrinking away to brace for the answer she knew was coming but needed to hear anyway. And it would be okay. It would be okay because she would finally at least be able to know. "I-It's okay if you sometimes had to pretend I was part of the team. It's okay if you doubted me—"

Nigel pulled her into a hug, crushing her against his chest as he held on tightly. He smiled, gazing fondly at the horizon. "No."

Kuki looked in the opposite direction, her chin against his shoulder to stop her damn lips from wobbling so much. She sniffled back a trail of snot. "R-Really?"

"Even when you played with the hamsters too much. Even when you wouldn't listen to me about My First Rainbow Monkey after that Spankulot mission," he said, softly laughing at the memory. "Not once did I ever lose faith in you."

Kuki smiled into his makeshift cape. "N-Not even for a second?"

Nigel held her tighter. "Never for a second."

The machine trembled around them. The carrier's wing groaned under the weight, its supports snapping away bit by bit.

Nigel leaned away a bit, smirking down at Kuki. "Piggy-back ride?"

Kuki wiped away her tears and nodded. "Piggy-back ride."

And with a click of his heels, they took to the sky.

The Delightful Children watched them go, the smoke trail of Nigel's boots floating down around them like a halo. Their eyes were blank as rain pelleted them. That trust, that bond, it… reminded them of Sector Z.

It reminded them of them.

BOOOOM!

The wing exploding around them reminded them that, oh yeah, they were totally about to die.

And the sappy losers had left them alone.

Again.

"NOOO!" they screeched, voices out of sync as they fruitlessly tried to get the machine to respond. As it ignored them, their breaths became labored. Without thinking, they fled to the communication system. To the only one person who could save them now. "F-Father! Help!"

The response was static.

"Father…PLEASE!"

Static.

"…Father?"

The machine buckled, its entangled and limbs weighted down by HIPPIE-HOP's mass. The fragile ground beneath the mechanical titans groaned, tears in the steel signaling it wouldn't hold for much longer.

Above, straddled atop Nigel, Kuki's gaze lingered on the cockpit, its pilots simply slumping to accept their impending fate.

Something stirred in her chest, and she extended her staff before thrusting it into Nigel's hands. "Hold this!"

Nigel puffed, confusion coating his face as Kuki shuffled in his grasp. She leaned away, clipping the staff to his wrists while extending the grapple chain. "What in blazes are you—"

"Do you trust me?"

"Of course I do! But why—"

Her determined, piercing gaze silenced him. "Then you know what I have to do."

His brows furrowed, frown marring his expression. He stared long and hard into her eyes, and just like always when Kuki set her mind to something, there was no talking her out of it.

And with a heavy nod, he let her fall.

Explosions shook the Incredibly Destructive Machine's hull all around them. Each quake and rupture jostled them, but they were numb to it all. Forlorn eyes bore into the radio, the static deafening. A hive mind of voices screamed at them, commanding them to try again.

It had to be a mistake.

Father…he would never just abandon them!

There must be interference.

Some last trick played by their bothersome rivals.

A random high-energy particle scrambling their frequency!

The synchronized wail from their delightful conscious would not relent, shouting there had to be some reason he didn't respond the first time.

They should try again.

Again, and again, and again, and again until he saved them because he was their Father!

They loved him unquestioningly, and he must feel the same!

That was the deal, right? Right?

…right?

Bruce's hand hovered over the intercom, fingers trembling mere inches away from the call button. The children shared a collective thought about following through and crying for Father to save them one more time…

…only, in the last second, for that hand to fall limp at Bruce's side. Because deep down, even though they could never, ever prove it…

…they knew what the answer would be.

The Delightful Children huddled together as their machine teetered, hellbent on dragging them into the abyss. For the first time in quite a long time, they felt most un-delightful, letting loose a unified resigned sigh.

"At…at least we'll always be together," Lenny whispered, voice hollow underneath his helmet as he leaned into his brothers and sisters. "Right?"

Despite her eyes betraying no emotion, Alessandra's lips trembled. With great effort, David and Bruce's hands drew her closer. Shakily, Constance took her hand, nestling her head underneath the taller girl's chin. Lenny's words echoed in her mind, drowning out the indoctrinating drone that held her in a vice for the better part of…

…my, had it truly been that long? How time flies.

Memories surged forth—painful memories of being kicked out on the street, digging for scraps in the trash, shivering alone on a cold city bench, and fighting just to survive. These memories, so awful and terrible, reminded her how much preferable and delightful conformity was, how it was better to forfeit her true self—the real version of herself that not even her aunt wanted after her mother died.

Then, an intrusive thought cut through the negativity.

A thought of those dorks—sector V.

Her brow twitched as memories of them surged forth. Memories of raiding their treehouse, then the idiots, in response, always trying (but failing! Ha ha!) to get their yummy-icious birthday cakes. She remembered how, before Father began getting involved, something wormed into their subconscious—how for a bit, it was less about the cake and just a chance to cross fists with those losers.

Sector V—five snot-nose brats. Scoundrels who dared invade their private little world. Hooligans who stuck together like perfect little peas in their pod. One miscreant was never far behind the other four. How they hated them. Hated their tacky clothes. Hated their do-gooder-ness. Hated how they never left the other behind. Hated every single stinking thing about them!

But the thing the Delightful Children hated about those five foolhardy K-N-Dorks the most was…was how much they looked forward to it all.

How much it exhilarated them.

How the aftermath of each encounter made their everyday just that bit more insufferable.

How much sector V reminded them of…themselves.

Alessandra closed her eyes, a single tear slipping through.

"Of course we will," she quietly answered. Alessandra went in, pulling Lenny, Bruce, Constance, David; her team—her family—close and never, ever intending to let go. "Forever and always."

"Awww."

All at once, their eyes snapped up to see Kuki leaning over them.

The girl chuckled, embarrassed. "Uh, ooopsie. Didn't mean to ruin the moment, buuuut…"

As if it would explain her actions, Kuki wordlessly lassoed the group with the chain of her GO-sign, using the sickle to lock it in place. The Delightful Children were flabbergasted, mouths gaping like goldfish as Kuki gave the chain a taut tug and shouted, "NOW!"

Kuki and the Delightfuls went soaring, the latter screaming bloody murder and the former looking up. The Really, Really Incredibly Destructive Machine let out its death throes, groaning and exploding, littering the way out with molten bits of shrapnel and plastic. Kuki tightened her grip around the Delightfuls, using her legs to push and kick them loose of stray debris as Nigel's rockets air-lifted them to freedom.

A metal tentacle lashed wildly, barreling towards them all too quickly. Reacting on instinct, Kuki kicked her feet into the Delightful Children, knocking them out of its path as it slammed her back down. The daze was instant, Kuki's vision cascading in dizzying, vomit-inducing swirls. So disoriented, she could tell whether the image of the Delightfuls reaching out to grab her was real or just some wild little daydream byproduct of stress.

Her body tumbled and bounced against rubble and metal, the foothold of the hellicarier breaking away to drop Kuki to her demise thousands of miles below. The exposed sky greeted her as she lost her footing, her body numb and face pale as no salvation could be seen.

A giant, robotic bunny paw swooped underneath her, its armor casing chipping away. Kuki looked over, locking eyes with HIPPIE-HOP.

The bunny bot's eyes twinkled as Kuki's wristwatch relayed a final, chirpy message.

"Bye-bye, Mama!"

HIPPIE-HOP threw Kuki upwards with all his might before pulling the Incredibly Destructive machine down to be destroyed once and for all.

Now, here we go…

The numb sensation gave way to a tingle as Kuki moved. The thrust of HIPPIE-HOP's toss got her close, but she had to make it the rest of the way. The carrier slowly gained altitude, trying tauntingly to fly out of reach. Gritting her teeth, Kuki grabbed onto a falling sidewalk, flipped up, and broke into a sprint before jumping. Kuki darted, leaped, scratched, and clawed her way as she moved through falling debris in a death-defying display of gymnastics. With a final grunt of effort, she threw everything she had into her jump as she hurdled towards the carrier's edge.

Only to fall short as her finger merely slipped against the lawn.

It's the end of the show.

Her eyes widened, then slowly closed, time slowing as gravity coiled around her frame. Despite her end drawing closer, despite all the choices made to avert this fate, Kuki couldn't look back on her decision with an ounce of regret. The Delightful Children had been pulled to safety, and maybe—just maybe—they could finally be free to become better. Become the people she believed them to be.

Because Kuki finally realized that's all a Supreme Leader could do in the end: believe.

Believe in rainbows, hugs, kisses, and a better tomorrow. Believe in the Delightful Children, believe in operatives—believe in her Kids Next Door.

And even if they didn't return that belief? Then that was fine.

Because she would never stop believing. Not now.

Not ever.

She closed her eyes and waited for the fall—

—Hear them?

"KUKI!"

The fall never came.

They're calling your name.

Four hands latched onto hers and jerked her from oblivion's hold. Everything was a blur as Kuki rolled and tumbled again, this time her vision blinded by bright orange. She looked up, words choked by a gasp as tearful, scared jade green eyes looked into hers.

Wally.

Cause in the end,

But it wasn't just Wally, was it?

No, it was Abby.

It was Hoagie.

It was Nigel.

They were all there, hands flying over her, tears and various shouts, worried scoldings, and overall relief spilling in one massive blabber as they hugged her in the center of their pile was no intention of letting go.

It's you…

Kuki looked up at them, stupefied. All this fuss. All this attention over little old her…

From the only four people in the whole wide world who, despite all their arguments and fights, believed in a goofball like her.

…and your friends.

Her face broke into a huge, wobbly smile as she cried and drew them close.

You'll

Find

Your

Flame.

---

"Mrs. Sanban. It's been a while."

Genki settled in the chair, hands anxiously cupped her lap. "Yes. It has."

Across the room, lifting his eyes from his notes, the man regarded her. "Well, catch me up. How have you been?"

"I…" Genki said, voice low and eyes ducked. Shame skittering across her face. "I've been caught up in work. A little too much. I fear…I fear I may be slipping into old habits."

The man nodded, no judgment in his gaze as he surrendered his full attention. "That's natural. Sometimes we relapse into old habits because it's familiar. The unknown can be scary."

Genki meekly nodded.

"But that's okay, we're only human. We make mistakes," he said warmly. "And you being here? I think that means you want to learn."

Genki finally met his eyes, resolve slowly entering her once. "I do."

"May I ask what made you come back? It's been a while since I've heard from you and your husband," he repeated. "Maybe by starting there, we can work on setting and keeping to a schedule that's a bit more consistent?"

The Sanban matriarch turned her head to the window, the first rays of moonlight flickering in. The rays tickled her face, their warmth invoking deep, fond memories—memories of first steps, first words, and very first Rainbow Monkeys.

"I've…I've been thinking of my eldest daughter. My little Kuki," she said, smiling softly. "She…it may sound silly, but she inspires me."

"I don't think that's silly at all," the man countered. "I feel a lot of time, we adults can easily dismiss our kids. They can see the world so much differently than us…sometimes, that's a perspective we need. They don't know everything, but hey, neither do we, right?" he chuckled. He leaned back, tapping his pen against his knee. "Kids are lucky, I think. They're more in tune with their inner kid—the one that can see the best in everyone."

Genki's mind wandered. "That is my Kuki. She can see past the ugliness." She looked across the room, instantly recoiling at the harsh face staring back at her. "I…envy that. I can't see beyond it."

"Then why don't we play pretend?" At her arched brow, he smirked. "Indulge me. Close your eyes and breathe."

Skeptic, Genki followed his instructions and took a series of breaths.

"Now, pretend you're Kuki. Let's put Genki on pause for a second and squeeze yourself into her shoes." After a long moment, he nodded. "Now, open your eyes. What does Kuki see?"

Once again, the reflection gazed back at her. Inside her, that scared, suppressed little inner child took inspiration from her eldest daughter. Genki narrowed her brows, forehead creasing as the strict voice of her mother began prattling off. This was childish. This was inane. This was a waste of—

Genki closed her eyes and breathed again.

The windows, slightly ajar, rushed open as a golden breeze blew through the room.

Across from her, the man yelped, jumping and hastily closing the window between apologies. But Genki didn't hear him. The breeze encircled, knocking loose her hair as she opened her eyes again and gasped.

"I…I see someone who wants to be better. For her daughters," Genki softly said. "For…for me."

---

From their position on the ground, they didn't move. Why, for a moment, they weren't sure if they were breathing. Everything was quiet. Everything was still. They were here. They were whole.

They were alive.

Slowly, one by one, the Delightful Children sat up, looking completely dumbfounded. They looked at their hands, then at each other. They could hardly believe it. This didn't seem real at all.

But then they heard it, that oh-so-familiar sound they could never forget. The sound of joy. The sound of victory.

The sound of sector V.

With tired eyes, the Delightful Children simply watched as, not that far away, sector V melted into a sentimental puddle as they cried and blubbered over one another. Hoagie was the rock, holding the group together in his chubby arms. Nigel and Abby supported each other as they chained their hands tightly against their friends. Wally's normally tough facade crumbled as he basked in the warmth of his comrade.

And there she was. The silly little girl at the center of it all. Kuki Sanban.

The Supreme Leader.

---

"And you can count on me too. It's my job to save kids. All of them, no matter how old they get," Numbuh Beyond said, somehow gripping them all in another impossibly tight hug. She leaned away, taking all their hands at once. "I promise I'll find a way to save you too."

---

They clenched their heads as the memories came back.

Supreme Leader.

A Supreme Leader who wanted to save everyone, no matter what their situation was.

…what a silly dream they once believed in.

The sound of footsteps broke them from their trip down memory lane. Five pairs of cold blue eyes leaped up to meet the determined stare of five mirroring glances.

"…I suppose you were right, Nigel. This is how it always goes. You win," they said solemnly, somberly staring at the ground. "We lose."

Nigel said nothing, face stoic as he watched them get to his feet. Wally raised his fists, cautious, only to have Hoagie and Abby gently lower them, convincing him otherwise.

The Delightfuls dusted off their shoes, but it lacked effort. They straightened their collars, but they lacked the usual dignified grace. They simply slumped, going through the motions as they listlessly stared at Kuki. "Congratulations, you 'proved us wrong,'" they mockingly quoted with an empty sneer. "I hope you're content with yourself."

Kuki said nothing at first, simply regarded them. "Not yet. I still have to do my job. I still have to bring Sector Z home."

"There is no Sector Z, Kuki. Not anymore," they said, resigned. "We made quite sure of that."

"I don't believe that."

"Believe what you wish; it's none of our concern. Not anymore."

"So what now?"

The Delightfuls looked past the children, their eyes looking forlornly to the manor—their home—their prison. "Father will be most…unsatisfied."

Sector V shared a grimace as the thunder boomed behind them.

"Do try not to make too much of a fuss as he destroys you. We'd rather enjoy a somewhat peaceful bath before he banishes us to our rooms again," they mumbled. Hoagie reached out with a tentative hand, but they smacked it away. "If you'll excuse us."

Wally frowned as they walked past him. "And where are you dorks going?"

"To make our beds and lie in them. We've grown quite good at that this past lifetime," they despondently said.

Abby sighed. "So, that's how it is, huh?"

They ignored her as they continued on. They spared one last glare at Nigel before crudely brushing him aside. The bald teen didn't retaliate, simply watching them go. Finally, they stopped, sparing Kuki one last glance before stepping across the threshold.

She looked at them, some fire burning in her eyes. They flinched under its intensity. It reminded them of past glory, of the joy, laughter, and thrill they lived for—the one they once dreamed of sharing with kids all over the world.

As they stared into Kuki's eyes, they realized how terribly they missed the idea of it all…

…but that idea? That dream? It was one they didn't deserve. Not anymore.

"Tell the Kids Next Door we'll miss them."

The Delightful Children turned to walk up the stairs of their porch.

"Tell them yourself."

They were stopped by Kuki's arm. Startled, they looked down at her hand to see a card.

A green card coated in crayon scribbles.

They frowned. "What is this?"

Kuki stared ahead confidently. "Coordinates to the new Medical Boo-Boo Grove."

Hoagie and Wally gasped.

Abby raised a brow.

Nigel simply observed.

"It's a hospital run by kids for kids. The last place we send hurt and injured operatives before making the call to send them to adult facilities we heavily vet," Kuki explained, voice trembling with passion and resolve. "It's also where we help runaways. Where we send abused and mistreated kids. A safe haven for homeless kids for as long as they want until we find them homes. Good homes."

The Delightful Children scoffed. "Oh? Finally doing something about the undesirables of society, are you? Only took you brats long enough to realize there's more to it than candy and video games."

Kuki was quiet as she let them vent.

"'A safe haven for homeless kids,' oh, that's rich. Some would call that charity. Some would even call it noble. Do you know what we would call it?" They got in her face and sneered. "Too little, too late."

Kuki didn't flinch.

"'Stay as long as they want?' I bet Sector Z would've loved that. Such a shame it wasn't there for them. They may be gone, but we carry their memories. Such a place didn't exist back then, and look where it got them!"

Heaving, Alessandra was the one to grip Kuki by the collar and slam her against a nearby tree.

The rest of sector V moved to strike.

Kuki halted them with a wave of her hand.

"Medical Boo-Boo Grove? It sounds like a stupid fairy tale. Something only a snot-nosed toddler could dream up," she snarled, the four behind her too embroiled in fury to speak. So, she would speak for them. "Tell me, dear Kuki, which one of you losers thought up that idea? Which one of you…you BRATS dared to plant a seed that would bear no fruit!?"

Unaware of that lesson, Wally was piqued with interest.

Familiar with their history, Abby and Hoagie took off their hats and lowered them as a show of respect.

Having read the Book of KND, the last piece of the puzzle fell into place for Nigel, and he looked away sadly.

With a firm and tender tone, Kuki told them the story.

And as she told them, Alessandra, David, Bruce, Constance, and Lenny's hearts pounded at once as they listened…

As Kuki finished her story, she found her feet planted against the ground.

The Delightful Children stared at her, faces unreadable. The expected response was for them to laugh. The script dictated they have a long, loud guffaw and deride such a silly anecdote with all disdain their cynic little souls could muster. They should, at the very least, unabashedly deny such a frivolous tale.

But they did know of that. They simply looked to the sky as wetness trickled down their faces. "…such a terrible night for rain."

The rain had stopped long ago, but Sector V said nothing.

"She asked us to trust her, and we refused," they quietly said. "She promised to keep trying, and we labeled her a liar…"

Suddenly, the calm of the night was broken as they screamed.

They screamed as one until their throats were raw.

And then, they stopped.

"Such dramatic irony. We should find it delightful," they whispered with raspy voices. "…but we do not. Not. At. All."

Wally narrowed his eyes in confusion and looked up to Nigel, pleading for context.

"Numbuh Beyond was a Supreme Leader of many accomplishments, one of which, in an unprecedented move at the time, proved that whatever a Supreme Leader says? Goes," Nigel began to explain to the boy. "After a week of seclusion, she came back and passionately launched what would be her legacy, a place where the Kids Next Door would provide help to those who needed it most, the Medical Boo-Boo Grove. 'Official' academy lessons teach us that she planned to offer care and leadership of the grove to Sector Z, but of course, nothing ever came of that."

Nigel looked over the Delightful Children, a hand unconsciously moving to his back pocket. "Excerpts from the Book of KND claim there were rumors. Rumors that say she went to their treehouse the day before Numbuh 0.2's birthday to surprise them with the news," he sighed. "…that was the day she labeled Sector Z as missing."

Everything fell into place for Wally all at once. He looked at the Delightful Children, a sad frown marring his face, and all he could say was, "…crud."

"'Crud,' indeed, Wallabee," they bitterly laughed, but there was no bite behind it. Their wet glare shifted to Nigel. "And what a keen observer of history. We would expect nothing more from the fabled Keeper of the Book."

In any other situation, the moniker from their lips would be a bard. A back-handed insult. But given the gravity of the truth, Nigel, for once in his life, could only pity the children before him.

"What difference one day makes," they reminisced, staring at their reflections in the puddle. Overcome with fury, they stomped on it, the water splashing everywhere and soaking their cotton socks. "…but what else could you expect of impatient brats?"

Kuki took a careful step toward them. "You were scared kids. You still are."

"Spare us your pity; you know that's not true," they growled, clenching their heads as they fell to their knees. "Celebrating birthdays, yet never getting older. Dressing up and pretending to be something we'll never be. Perhaps, deep down, we are still children…in the worst possible way!"

With each word, they beat into the dirt. With each cry, their nails began to bleed, but as quickly as the blemishes appeared, a delightful shudder coursed through them. The energy cleaned their wounds, and the power made them look pure, pure, untouched.

Eternal.

How they hated it, they finally admitted.

"Pathetic and self-serving. Immature and rash. Refusing to hold ourselves accountable for our part in this and inflicting our misery on anyone we deemed inferior!" they yelled. Their wild eyes flew toward Kuki. "So, why bother? After everything we've done, why do you care? After the pain and misery we've merrily put you through, why do you insist on trying? WHY DO YOU KEEP TRYING TO SAVE US DESPITE US NOT BEING WORTH IT!?"

"…because I am Kids Next Door. And I will never stop trying. If I see a kid in trouble? I'll save them." Kuki slowly turned, looking into Nigel's eyes. "No matter who they are."

Nigel met Kuki's gaze. He then went to look at the Delightful Children. Even now, seeing them triggered horrible memories. Even in their defeated state, his mind burned with the terrors he suffered all those years ago. A shiver ran across his scalp, reminding him of the scar he would always bear. He remembered how he felt that night. Terrified. Hopeless.

Alone.

But then, he looked to Abby, the girl's gaze soft, not a hint of judgment in her features as she waited for him. He remembered her tears, the endless apologies falling from her lips as she found him in the aftermath, begging him to forgive her for not being able to save him.

But she did save him. She saved him in a way he would never be able to repay.

Nigel glanced at the Delightful Children once more. Then he turned to Kuki.

Finally, with a small smile of pride only for her, he nodded.

Tears of gratitude welled in her eyes as Kuki smiled back.

"It's a fruitless endeavor," the Delightfuls tried to argue. "It would be a waste of time."

Wally crossed his arms. "Only if ya don't stop feelin' all sorry for yourselves."

"The effects are permanent," they rebuffed. "There's no way to come back from it."

"I found a way," Hoagie cut in. "You telling me you dorks can't do what a doofus can?"

"You think we don't know what happened? That we didn't hear the whispers?" they cast a panicked look at Abby. "Father found your precious little Grove once. What's to stop him from doing it again?"

Abby cracked her neck as she secured her hat. "We'll stop him."

"What? Just because you managed to get back together? Just because you think you can?" They glared up at Nigel. "You think you can just…just save the day and get through to that traitor of yours? You won't succeed. We know the turmoil that drives her. It'll swallow her whole and take you with it, fool! Do yourself a favor, and give up!"

Nigel stared them down, his resolve blaring hotter than ever. He thought of the fate of the world, everything at stake, and Rachel, as he declared, "I will never give up on her."

"Insane. The lot of you are insane!" they cried. They looked down, noticing Kuki's discarded ROADSIGN staff.

The symbol of hope a Supreme Leader carried into battle.

With a snarl, they grabbed it.

"You think you can do the impossible? You think you can subvert the odds one last time?" they slowly stalked toward the girl, Alessandra's hold on the GO staff tightening. "You think you can tie this all up with a neat little bow. Is that what you think?"

Kuki giggled. "Well, we've gotten this far, haven't we?"

"And what about us?" they shouted. "Expect us to reply on empty hopes and prayers? What are WE supposed to do!?"

Kuki held up the green card again with a tender smile. "Just believe, silly."

"…please believe in me."

The Delightful Children stared at the card in Kuki's hand, their disbelief slowly giving way to something more profound. They looked back at each other, remembering the long-forgotten flicker of hope that once burned within them.

It was a hope they had buried deep under years of disappointment, manipulation, and pain.

Kuki's words, her unwavering belief, and her outstretched hand reminded them of someone they had lost long ago—Rebecca.

Rebecca, who had always believed in them, who had seen the best in them even when they couldn't see it themselves.

Kuki's eyes, her spirit, mirrored Rebecca's so much that it was almost too much to bear.

Their minds drifted back to their time at Sector Z. The camaraderie, the laughter, the missions they undertook with reckless abandon—all of it came rushing back. They remembered Rebecca's promise to never give up on them and to always find a way to save them.

It was a promise she had tried to keep, a promise that now, through Kuki, seemed within reach again.

The Delightful Children clenched their fists, struggling with the emotions swirling within them.

It was Alessandra who spoke first, her voice laced with bitterness and a tinge of regret. "Oh dear, Kuki. You've always been SO NAIVE."

She swung the blade of the scythe towards Kuki's neck, and Sector V moved to intervene.

But Kuki didn't flinch. She continued to smile, a silly little smile.

At the last second, the scythe halted. The Delightful Children twirled the scythe, their movements suddenly dignified and poised. "But we must admit, we've always found that... charming about you."

Without a word, they snatched up the card, mulling it over as they walked away. "After giving it a bit of thought, we feel this is an…opportunity. Yes, a delightful little opportunity indeed."

Slowly, devious little smiles graced their lips as they flipped the card across their fingers. "What better way to prove to everyone that we are superior than striking it out on our own? Father has been far too…coddling. It is time to leave the nest, as they say. Spread our wings. Fly to glorious heights and blind you losers with our potential!"

Together, they all shared a sinister laugh as they raised their fists in the air. "Yes, it is time to carve our own path forward. Seek self-sufficiency and thrive—the true mark of maturity! Of grown-ups! With this, we shall… 'move out' and take one step closer to the epitome of glorious adulthood we desire. And when we reach it, Sector V?" they smirked, something sparking behind their eyes like never before. "You will all be awash by our incredible awe."

Sector V shared, knowing smirks. Hoagie chuckled as he tossed his pilot cap back on. "If that's how you wanna slice the cake."

"Oh, Hoagie. Of all the things we'll miss? Your bumbling stand-up routine will not be one of them," they cooed. The boy responded with a raspberry. They rolled their eyes and made their way toward the gazebo.

Wally watched as they past, shoving his hands in his pockets as he looked to Abby for confirmation. "So, we just lettin' 'em go?"

Abby chuckled, placing a hand on her hip, and went into a relaxed lean. "Yeah, just this once. That cool with you, sport?"

"Meh," Wally shrugged. "Was getting bored of kickin' their dorky butts anyhow."

As the Delightful Children neared Nigel, they stopped. The bald boy raised a brow, but they simply stared ahead blankly. Not a word was said, the silence passing by them as smooth as the wind.

Finally, "No giant toilet to flush us away with this time, I'm afraid." They gave him a sideways glance. "So sorry to disappoint you, Nigie."

"You know, as twisted as it sounds, you deviants were right. If it weren't for you, who knows how my life would've turned out."

They said nothing.

"I am who I am because of what you did. This is the life I live," he frowned. He then looked back at Hoagie, Kuki, Wally, and Abby. His team—his friends. He smiled. "And it's one I wouldn't trade the world for."

They raised their brows. "Is that supposed to be a 'thank you?'"

He smirked as he flipped them off. "Kiss my bald arse."

"My word, such vulgarity, teenager. Perhaps this eternal prepubescence is a blessing in disguise," they sourly mused as they walked away.

With their backs to him, Nigel did nothing as he let them go.

The Delightful Children hopped onto the gazebo, Lenny bending over to hot-wire the panel. As he tinkered, Alessandra looked up to her family—eyes clouded in thought as she pondered the uncertain future ahead of them.

A future with no guarantees. A future with promised safety and security. A future, that even if everything worked out, there was no way to assure they would still remain together.

Doubt crept back into her being. The muted, delightful drone that kept them going, never allowing them to reflect, began to whisper again. How could they know what they were doing? How could they turn their backs on the only home they've ever known? They were just kids who didn't know any better.

They were kids…

---

"Even if we never see each other again, even if we grow to be a hundred years old and remember fluff all about our whacky adventures…we'll always be kids at heart." Kuki smiled, fighting back tears as she placed the Book of KND over her heart. "And those kids? They'll always believe. They'll be together. Forever and always."

---

Lenny returned to the group, holding the remote. He removed his helmet and nodded, "We're…ready to go."

Bruce and Constance held each other's hands.

David slowly looked down at Alessandra. "What is our next move…boss?"

Alessandra looked back to Kuki.

Catching her look, Kuki smiled.

And slowly but surely, Alessandra Altolocato smiled back.

"Farewell, Kids Next Door," she said. She crossed her arms, gazing out to Kuki, Nigel, Hoagie, Wally, and Abby one last time. "It's been…"

Sector V.

Heh, it was always sector V.

"…fun."

The gazebo closed and rocketed them away.

And that was the last anyone ever saw of the Delightful Children from Down the Lane.

Nigel looked up at the sky, face impassive as the rocket zipped away out of reach. His lips thinned, the smoke trail reflecting against his glasses. So caught up in his thoughts a hand patting him on the shoulder nearly startled him.

"Proud of you, boss," Abby said softly, hand gripping him tight. "I know that couldn't have been easy."

Everything catching up to him, he gently pushed off her hand as he looked to the ground and shamefully said, "I'm sorry…"

Abby's head gave a confused tilt.

"I'm sorry for not telling you. Any of you," Nigel said as the rest of his team walked up. His fists clenched together. "I told myself I was following orders—just doing what I was told. But that was the easy excuse. The truth? I convinced myself Sector Z was gone, beyond saving…despite all my talk of helping kids everywhere, I couldn't bring myself to want to help them."

Abby sighed, the sight of his bald scalp reminding her of her own shortcomings. "It ain't like ya didn't have a good reason."

"No reason is good enough to justify leaving kids in the 'care' of someone like Father, Numbuh 5…"

"Numbuh 1, you can't keep beatin' yourself up about this," Hoagie stepped in, trying his best to assure his pal. "It's like you said, you were ordered not to tell. ZIP-YER-LIP protocol is pretty serious business. Can't tell ya how I had to learn that the hard way when I was running the Deep Sea Lab."

Nigel shook his head. "Just more convenient rules to hide my failures behind."

"You ain't the only one to keep secrets, boss," Abby confessed, recalling their earlier argument. "Not tellin' anyone about the teen covert ops…taking all them loyal kids and makin' 'em miserable by pretending to forget their friends or be traitors… I'm sorry for jumpin' down your throat, especially considerin' how Abby ain't no better."

Hoagie sighed. "Y'know, for a secret organization of kids fighting adult tyranny…maybe we keep too many secrets. 'Specially from each other."

Wally kicked rocks. "Wish someone could do somethin' about that."

At his words, Kuki frowned, a thought crossing her mind. In her hand was her Go-sign. Her ROADSIGN class weapon that was more than weapon—it was a promise. A promise to protect kids everywhere from everything that did them harm. That was her duty. That was her job.

Her job as Soopreme Leaduh.

It was a job fulfilled by all her predecessors: Numbuh Beyond, Numbuh One Hundred, and Numbuh Two-Seventy-Four. Abby.

Even now, whether she knew it or not, Rachel was following that duty. She was still determined to save kids from what she thought would destroy them if it meant protecting them from the Kids Next Door.

Kuki stared at her reflection in the blade of the scythe, doubt worming its way into her mind. For all the hurt and pain it brought them, how sector Z, how Rachel, how even Kuki herself and her friends turned out…was worth it to keep fighting?

Was it worth it to save a system that failed them?

"I promise to be better…"

She gasped, hearing Genki's words echo in the wind. She thought of her mom, her dad, and her sister.

She thought of Patrick, Sonia, Tommy, Numbuh Three-Sixty-Five, Numbuh Six-Shooter, Numbuh Five-Forty-Nine, all her kids in the present, all of her kids in the past who lived on the stories they wrote into the Book of KND,

"I promise to be better."

Kuki looked at Nigel, Hoagie, Abby, and Wally—her friends and family—the ones coming together because they still had hope, even when there seemed to be none left to give.

"I promise to be better," she whispered to herself.

The Kids Next Door was more than an organization. It was more than its secrets. It was more than a mere system…

…it was a dream.

A dream that countless children had laid down their lives for.

A dream that, like her, was worth it. Worth saving.

A dream Kuki Sanban would never stop believing in, even after the day she died.

She thought of Wally's off-handed wish—"Wish someone could do somethin' about that."—and right then and there?

She vowed she would.

She was the Soopreme Leader of the Kids Next Door. It was her job to give them hope. Her job is to remind them of the joy. To remind them that could still believe.

To remind them that the past did not define them and that they can and will do the hard work to be better.

"—and besides," Hoagie continued on, he and the others oblivious to Kuki making up her mind as they crowded around Nigel. "In the end, you decided to save 'em after all. That's gotta count for something, right?"

At that, Nigel raised his head and smiled at his old Medical and Diversionary Tactics Officer. "It wasn't me who saved them, Numbuh 2."

Kuki blinked, realizing Nigel had entered her personal bubble. The pride she felt emanating from him made her blush and shuffle her toe against the dirt. "Hey, I learned from the best!"

Nigel snorted. "No, I think you did that all on your own."

"Oh, stop being silly—"

"Kuki, I had a lot of help passing my KND entrance exam," Nigel said, throwing a knowing look Abby's way. She merely whistled innocently while looking away. Nigel chuckled before gripping Kuki's shoulder. "If I recall from your file, when you were reassigned to sector V, you passed yours with flying colors."

Kuki dopey smiled as she rubbed the back of her neck. "You gotta study hard to be a nurse…"

"Just try and work on giving yourself a bit more credit," Nigel said, his voice soft. "Promise me, okay?"

Kuki squeezed his hand. "I pinky promise."

"Um, Kuki?" Wally said, voice nervous as he walked off. Nigel wisely gave them space, the rest of them quiet as he spoke. "About all that nasty stuff I said earlier…"

She patted his hand. "It's okay, sillyhead."

"No, it's not!" he barked. "I-I always go and run my big dumb mouth when I get mad. When I get all jealous. It-it weren't fair to explode on ya and all. To make ya feel guilty 'bout doing what ya gotta do to make sure everyone's happy. To make me happy. You broke all sorts of rules all the time to save my stupid butt, and I ain't once told ya how I appreciate you. I do!"

She smiled.

"So, I-I promise to be better about…emotions and stuff. B-But I know me…I-I'm gonna screw up sometimes, so I u-understand if that ain't gonna cut it for ya," he gulped, clenching his eyes and bracing himself. "I…I understand if ya wanna maybe…b-break up after this and take some time for ya-self to—"

He was silenced as her lips crashed into his.

Nigel and Abby leaned against Hoagie for support as they all quietly smiled.

Wally's eyes widened in shock, but then they fluttered shut as he melted into the kiss. It was awkward and a little clumsy, but it was full of genuine affection. Kuki's hands rested gently on his shoulders, and he could feel her smiling against his lips.

When they finally broke apart, both of them blushed furiously. Kuki giggled, a sound that made Wally's heart race even more. "Wally," she said softly, her eyes sparkling with warmth, "you're my sillyhead, too. And no matter what, I'll always be here for you. We'll figure things out together, okay?"

Wally let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding and nodded, a relieved smile spreading across his face. "Okay."

Kuki took his hand and squeezed it gently. "Besides, you know what they say, right?"

"What?" Wally asked, genuinely curious.

"They say that boyfriends who are really, really sorry take their girlfriends to Rainbow Monkey Fair-and-Share Fair!" she teased with a playful grin.

Wally groaned. "Is that right?"

"Mmmhmm," she said. She batted her eyes. "But you're a lucky duck 'cause I'm willing to settle for a movie night in."

"Nah, nah, we'll go to the cruddy fair," Wally sighed. The boy looked up at the manor, then looked back to his friends. Remembering the fates of Sector Z and partly reminded of the last time he went to the Fair-and-Share Fair, Wally scrunched up his face, threw all caution to the wind, and snapped his arms out. "G-Group hug!"

The other four gasped in shock.

"I-It's just, hearing those d-dork's sob story made me think, y'know? And…a-and I l-love you guys too, so…" he trailed off. All at once, he flipped up his hoodie, pulling the strings tight as he turned away. "FORGET IT! I-I was just being stupid as—"

As soon as Wally finished his sentence, the rest of Sector V moved as one. They tackled him in a massive group hug, their laughter and joy ringing out into the night. Hoagie was the first to wrap his arms around Wally, followed quickly by Abby, Nigel, and finally, Kuki, who squeezed in next to Wally with a beaming smile.

For a few precious moments, they held onto each other tightly, basking in the warmth and comfort of their shared bond.

No matter what challenges lay ahead, they knew they could face anything as long as they had each other.

Wally, initially tense, gradually relaxed into the hug, his defenses lowering as he allowed himself to be embraced by his friends. His eyes softened, and a small, content smile crept onto his face. They were his family, and in this moment, nothing else mattered.

But then, Wally's face turned serious again. "Any one of ya tells ANYBODY I started this, I'll pound ya."

---

Inside the manor, Father stood by the window, his eyes fixed on the distant rocket carrying the Delightful Children away from him. The communicator beside him buzzed with static, a harsh reminder of his failure.

No, he clenched his fists, not his failure, a nasty voice whispered as he felt a familiar rage and agony building inside him, an all-consuming fire that threatened to devour his sanity.

It was everyone else. They all failed him.

They failed him by LEAVING him.

His mother had left him, dying in childbirth.

His father had abandoned him, always favoring his brother.

And Monty, his own flesh and blood, had left him too, choosing the stupid Kids Next Door and their idealistic heroism over him. His own brother.

And now, even his Delightful Children were leaving him.

After all they had been through…

---

...when the chamber exploded with the five test subjects still inside, Benedict's first thought was: well, this sure was going to be a pain for someone else to clean up.

The next thought was: oh, crud, they might be dead.

He didn't want them dead!

For all that Sector Z had been annoying brats, they were far more useful to him alive.

Besides, it wasn't like he could attract more investors with rubble and corpses.

Benedict had meant to use it on kids all over the world. If they wouldn't behave when grown-ups asked them to, Benedict reasoned, he was going to make it so that he didn't have to ask anymore. Those kids would do as they were told without question after they'd been delightfulized as good, obedient little children should.

But now that dream was up in smoke. That wasn't a metaphor—the lab was literally up in smoke and flames.

"Hey," he called irritably as the smoke cleared from the badly destroyed room. "Any of you brats survive? I'm not cleaning this mess by myself!"

He was mostly shouting out of anger—he didn't actually expect a response. To his shock, however, a moment later, he heard five identical groans from beneath the smoldering wreckage.

Wait...

Eyes widening, he dropped his pipe and hurried over to the remains of the Delightfulization Chamber. There would be no salvaging his test machine, but maybe there had been some results from the experiment before it all went terribly wrong.

"Come out of there!" Benedict ordered, crudely kicking aside a fist-sized hunk of machinery. "All of you, this instant! OUT!"

Five voices groaned again in unison from beneath the rubble. A moment later, the debris stirred, and five pairs of hands lifted away the biggest chunk of scrap. The children's movements were painful and unsteady but perfectly synchronized, and the effect was strangely uncanny.

Together, Sector Z shoved aside the rubble of the Delightfulization Chamber. They all worked with identical shaking limbs, holding their heads painfully in the exact same place.

"Ow..." they groaned in unison, disoriented. Moving as one, they stepped out of the ruined machine that had buried them, emerging in perfect formation into the fluorescent light of the laboratory. "What...what happened?" they asked together, sounding confused and afraid.

The five children looked down at themselves in unison, realizing with expressions of horror that their appearances had completely changed. Benedict could hardly believe his eyes either.

The children standing in front of him resembled nothing close to the snot-nosed brats Sector Z had been: their unkempt Goodwill sweaters were replaced by preppy jacket-suits and frocks, all perfectly tailored to uniform regulations. The children's ugly hats and mussed hair were a thing of the past; their hair was now smoothed down neatly or done up in tight braids, and the boy in the tinfoil helmet even wore a safe red helmet. Their once-grimy boots had become neat shoes, laced up and squeaky clean. The five children spoke and moved as one entity, sharing all the same actions and even thoughts.

Best of all, Benedict saw that their dark, rebellious eyes now shone a pale and empty shade of blue, devoid of all desire for resistance and childish play. Sector Z was more delightful than Benedict had even hoped to dream. The blown fuse in the chamber hadn't ruined his experiment at all—in fact, it had enhanced it, at least eleventy-billionfold!

It hadn't gone horribly wrong.

It had gone horribly RIGHT!

Benedict couldn't help himself: he laughed. His whole body shook with it, and unbeknownst to him, a dark silhouette loomed over his newest creations, a black shadow that threw its head back with howls of laughter that spawned fire in a wall behind him.

"Yes," he hissed, throwing up his hands in savage joy. "I did it! I DID IT! They're perfect! These children are downright DELIGHTFUL!"

The children took a collective step back.

"Pardon us, kind sir," they all said, with trembling politeness, "but we can't seem to recall what's going on. Where are we? Who are we? All of our memories are..."

Benedict's laughter slowly died down, tapering off into a breathless chuckle. "Of course, of course!" he said grandiosely, stepping menacingly toward the children, not heeding the way they cringed back from him. "How very rude of me to forget! You five are MY children, and I am your beloved parent. You live here, with me, in our delightful little manor. You're the most smartest, perfectest little children in the whole wide world, and you hate those other misbehaving kids for their DISGUSTING immaturity—especially the Kids Next Door!"

"Kids...Next Door?" the children asked, blinking their pale blue eyes in confusion. "Who are they?"

"A group of vile, despicable children," Benedict hissed, looming over them. "Horrible little brats who do nothing except misbehave and create trouble for upstanding adults like me! Can't you see how awful that is?"

As the last words were shouted, Benedict didn't notice flames rising wildly behind him. The children jumped in place, startled, and nodded quickly. They no longer looked quite so frightened of him, more contemplative over his words.

"It IS awful!" they said together, looking alarmed. "We hate children who make trouble for adults! They're the most stupid, rotten pests in the whole world! In fact...such degenerates must be annihilated."

Why, that was what he was about to say!

"Yes, they certainly do," he purred, the flames dying around him. Had it always been this toasty in here? Must be the crackling machine. He extended an arm toward the bewildered children and took their five small hands in one of his, leading them away. "But that will come another day. We must attend to other manners, like cleaning up this mess YOU made. Then? Then we can spend the night scheming how you'll destroy those little nuisances so I never have to worry about them. Ever again."

"Yes," the children chorused in unison, dark smiles spreading across their angelic faces as they looked up at him. "We would like that very much. Those K-N-Doofuses don't stand a chance against the likes of US!"

Benedict smirked. "That's exactly right, children. They are inferior to you in every way possible. You? You're excellent. You're perfect! You're my exceptionally delightful children." He then smiled. "Now, before you clean up this mess, who wants ice cream!?"

They all gasped, licking their lips. "With extra jimmies?"

Benedict grinned. "Extra extra jimmies."

"We cannot wait!"

They then did something he wasn't entirely expecting.

"Thank you," they said, breathing easier as they hugged his waist. They smiled, obliviously nuzzling into his pants. "We love you, Father."

Benedict's heart skipped a beat.

They…they loved him?

The shadow from before crawled off the walls, slithering around his feet.

Someone…actually loved him. Unconditionally?

No take-backsies?

"We love you, Father."

A silhouette enveloped him, but he hardly noticed the sting.

"Yes, children," he said in a daze, his hands gingerly coming to wrap around them. As the shadow covered his face, his eyes glowed a terrible yellow gleam. "I'm…your Father."

---

…He had taken them off the streets, given them a home, and catered to their every whim. He had shaped them, molded them into a perfect, delightful unit. And this was how they repaid him?

By abandoning him like everyone else had?

The psychosis gripped him tighter, his thoughts twisting and turning in a maelstrom of bitterness and betrayal.

Those…those ungrateful wretches!

Those…snot-nosed babies!

Incapable of appreciating the sacrifices HE had made for THEM.

He had been lenient, far more than they deserved, and yet they had chosen to leave him.

A fireball began to form in his hand, growing larger and hotter with each passing second. He wasn't even aware of it at first, his mind too consumed with the spiraling rage.

This was their thanks?

This was their gratitude?

He could hear their voices in his head, echoes of their promises and declarations of loyalty.

Lies, all of it.

They had lied to him, just like everyone else.

They had used him and discarded him when he was no longer convenient.

The fireball pulsed with his anger, the flames licking hungrily at the air. His eyes remained locked on the rocket.

They had chosen to leave him after everything he had done for them.

They had chosen to abandon him, just like his mother, his father, and his brother.

LIKE EVERYONE!

WHY!?

Couldn't they see HE was the real victim here!?

Surrounded by a world that conspired against him when all he wanted was to make it BETTER.

He was the savior! Someone who had given everything and received NOTHING in return.

The fireball grew brighter, his fingers twitching as he aimed it at the rocket.

His breath came in ragged gasps, his vision blurring as the rage and sorrow tore through him.

The fireball crackled with deadly intent, his hand trembling with the effort to contain it.

They would pay for this.

They would understand the depth of his pain and the intensity of his suffering.

THEY WOULD—

"We love you, Father."

But even as he prepared to unleash his fury, a small, rational part of him hesitated.

"We love you, Father."

The part that still remembered the joy in their eyes and the laughter they had shared was buried deep, almost suffocated by the darkness, but it was there.

"We love you, Father."

For a moment, the fireball wavered, his hand trembling…

But the rage was too strong, the bitterness too deep.

With a snarl, he aimed the fireball at the rocket, his eyes burning with a madness that knew no bounds.

They would not leave him. Not like this. Not ever.

HE WOULD-

"We love you, Father."

With a scream that shattered the window in front of him, Father kicked over his chair and turned his hand away from the rocket, aiming instead at the ceiling.

A terrible, massive streak of fire erupted from his hand, blasting through the roof with explosive force. The flames roared and twisted, a furious inferno that lit up the night sky. It was as if every ounce of anger, every shred of betrayal, every lingering fragment of hurt had been concentrated into a single, devastating burst.

The flames consumed the roof and spiraled upwards, a beacon of his anguish and rage visible for miles around.

Inside the manor, the shadows danced wildly, cast by the flickering inferno above. The air crackled with heat and energy, a tangible manifestation of the chaos within him.

For a moment, it seemed like the flames might consume the entire manor, a fitting end to the home that had seen the birth of Benedict Wigglestein.

The fire stopped, and the manor still stood.

But there were no Delightful Children anymore.

There was only Father.

---

Outside on the doorstep, sector V yelped as the roof of the manor exploded. They looked up to see a tower of flame bolting to the sky, its massive streak blazing a hole through the storm clouds that had gathered. It kept going and going, no doubt sizzling past and beyond the stratosphere.

Hoagie whistled. "Whoa. Sure looks like someone's ticked off."

There was a click, and the front doors to the manor slowly creaked up.

A final, silent invitation.

Wally jumped on his toes, doing some stretches. "Well, it doesn't get any more cut'n'dry than that."

Suddenly from behind, a legion of Knightamatons surged forth from the hull of the carrier, dotting across the lawn. The manor's last line of defense set their sights on sector V and rose their arms as they marched forth.

Abby rolled her eyes, kicking up her BIRDIE and loading it. "King of mixed signals, ain't he?"

Before Nigel could order a defense, a figure crashed down in front of them. The teens cheered as they recognized Bradley once again coming to their aid. Atop his fedora-capped head, a hamster peeked out, whiskers wiggling in the breeze. Pashmina locked her eyes with sector V, giving a thumbs up before squeaking.

From the brushes, the Pets Next Door leaped into the fray. Having digested the last of Stuffum's food army, they clucked, pecked, and barked as they held off the Knightamatons.

"Guess that takes care of that problem," Abby smirked. Maybe she had been too hasty in decommissioning the pet branch. She turned to Nigel. "So, what's the plan, baby?"

Nigel crossed his arms, nodding his head to Kuki. "Think I'll leave that up to our Supreme Leader." He turned and saluted. "Orders, sir?"

Kuki beamed, swallowing back tears of joy as she switched to her serious persona. Well, not really that much of a persona anymore.

"Alright, operatives. This is it. The last push," she said, voice steely and resolute as she hopped on the first stair. "This has gone on long enough. And I'm not just talking about Father. Not just about Rachel. I mean all of it."

She glared up at the few visible stars. "For too long, we've let people like the Important Ones decide the best way forward. Too many times have we let our own fear decide the safest option to choose from. It's easy to just give in…to just accept the middle road and write off those we leave behind. Well, I'm sick and tired of it."

Kuki slammed her staff into the ground. "Adults and those in power think we don't know what we're doing. They think it's impossible to save everyone. Maybe, it is…but I won't stop trying. I won't stop believing, no matter what ANYONE says. We will learn from their mistakes. We will reject the hopeless, joyless scraps they decide to hand down to us. We will decide our own future and earn it!

"Because I believe in Santa Claus. I believe in the power of love. I believe that one day, the dream we all share can finally come true," with heart conviction, she raised her fists and shouted to the heavens. "I believe in the KIDS NEXT DOOR!"

Emboldened by her words, the other four passionately cried. "KIDS NEXT DOOR RULEZ, SIR!"

"Numbuh 1? I'm trusting the rest of this operation to you," Kuki said, using her staff to point down at him. She smirked and raised her brow. "Think your team can handle it?"

Nigel smiled proudly, looking back at his friends fondly. "My team's the best there is."

Kuki nodded. "Then what are you waiting for?"

"Right," he said. He lifted his SPLANKER into the air. "Ready, team?"

Abby cocked her rifle. "Five."

Wally threw off his pleather jacket, knuckles tingling in anticipation. "Four."

Kuki merrily jumped back into the sector V formation, giving her GO staff a cute twirl. "Three."

Hoagie slapped on his flight goggles, shouldering his weapons and tech as he stepped up to the plate. "Two."

"One. Kids Next Door," Nigel bellowed as he faced the manor. "It's time to end the nightmare."

---

One Moonbase Zero, three children paced about nervously.

"Do you think we got through?" Numbuh Five-Forty-Nine asked. Ever since the Delightful Children's broadcast had gone silent, they were waiting for an update. Any kind at all. "Do you think it was enough?"

Numbuh Three-Sixty-Five looked worriedly at her terminal, no amount of fidgeting getting a response from HIPPIE-HOP. It seemed the poor bunny mech was gone for good. "I don't know…"

Suddenly, the base trembled as something shot past the moon. With a shriek, all children present recoiled as a massive bolt of fire tore through space. Numbuh Six-Shooter hopped on his turret, using his skills to retrace the origin of the shot. With a grim face, he reported, "That came from the Delightful Manor. No doubt about it."

Numbuh Five-Forty-Nine gulped. "So…what do we do now?"

Numbuh Three-Sixty-Five thought of the fate that befell the old Boo-Boo Grove. Thought of how stories of Father made the new generation wet their underwear.

She thought of her Supreme Leader, and how she was fighting for each and every one of them all on her own.

"We stop being afraid," Numbuh Three-Sixty-Five said. She flicked her wrist, initiating another Global KND Broadcast. "This is Numbuh Three-Sixty-Five of Moonbase Zero. We have a code: we're all gonna die. Class: F," she slowly inhaled. "I'm invoking super-duper, omega-ly important, pants-on-fire, 'this-is-no-fooling' sooper secret emergency protocol A-2-Z. All willing and voluntary sectors…please report in."

For a good five minutes, there was silence. The three looked at each other. It wasn't completely unexpected.

"…ah, confound it. Is this thing working?"

The children jumped as an old, dusty ham radio fizzled to life. Cautiously, Three-Sixty-Five turned in her swivel chair and picked up the receiver. "Um, hello? Who is this?"

"Now, don't be worrying about all that. Jus' a fella passin' along a message on behalf of some friends of yours."

Three-Sixty-Five narrowed her eyes. "What friends?"

---

"…your Amish friends, of course," Numbuh Jebediah chuckled as he leaned into the post. The teenaged Amish operative shouldered the phone, then lifted up a pair of binoculars as he studied a group of kids in the distance.

A group of Amish kids, all fired up and willing to break tradition, loaded hand-made weapons and first aid supplies into their SCAMPER buggy. He noted a couple of farm animals pitching in, too, an elderly cow carrying up a carton of milk to fuel the upcoming war effort.

Jebediah shook his head. Technology and violence weren't the Amish way, but if these kids were willing to bend a few rules to help their Supreme Leader save the world, he supposed he could follow their bad example.

Just once.

"And I just wanted to let ya know that Sector A is standing by," he said proudly. He then tapped his chin and added. "That, and they maaaaay be needing a lift."

And sector A?

They were the first of many.

---

…there is a story some kids tell.

The story of an evil, bitter old adult who refused to grow up.

The story of five lost souls who finally found their way home.

The story of a Supreme Leader willing to burn it all down if it meant sparing others her pain.

The story of a secret organization of kids who decided they could prove to the world they could be better.

The story of a once idealistic boy from NYC who wasn't sure if he still believed in happy endings.

The story of the "Quiet One" who found her rallying cry.

The story of the "Tough Guy" who gave in to the strength and love in his heart.

The story of the "Flirt" who never stopped dreaming and found her flame.

The story of the "Doofus" who soared to the skies as he realized his inner worth.

And the story of the "Leader" who had to make a choice.

The unpossible choice that would come right at the end.

transmission interrupted

---

Credits:

"Find Your Flame" - SEGA SOUND TEAM, Tomoya Ohtani, Tyler Smith Kellin Quinn