Chapter 25 - Who's the Crazy One Now?
The Mecha Underlords' Devil Ship, ?
Oscar felt groggy, his mind sore.
Usually, when he woke up, he didn't bother the noise. Whether it was the alarm ringing off, the pesky notification from his partners-in-crime or Lou asking if he could make breakfast. As the Great White Shark, he often got out of bed whenever he wanted to! Usually, just hop out with some reflexes or roll out of bed. However, today, he didn't have that much energy.
He blinked his heavy eyes, his eyes met with the soft white blanket covering his large body. He slowly turned to his side and patted the empty space next to him. His eyes felt less heavy. He blinked a couple of times. No one was there. Oscar closed his eyes, letting out a dejected sigh. He had forgotten a few times that his wife wasn't here anymore.
A part of him wished that he hallucinated her briefly, fake or not.
He felt strange. He rested for a long time, but he still felt tired. His body still felt sore despite being in a comfortable bed. He wanted to stay there and let the mattress sink him in. He still had a job to do, but it was a mile away. Oscar squeezed his eyes, hoping that the morning adrenaline would kick back in so he could get back up.
However, patience wasn't his dear friend and he was left there as a weak fish.
"That's your true nature! You need to use that to let your old, weak self down. So that the fear of pain won't control you for too long."
However, for some reason, he was scared.
Oscar cursed to himself. He is the Great White Shark! The murderer of all humans and the face of a thousand predators! He even gave himself a good reason to belong at the top of the food chain. But there was no satisfaction from knowing these facts.
He hummed. Maybe he might recover a little after some breakfast.
Flopping out of bed and dressing himself were rather…sluggish. He couldn't bother his sheets left wrinkled nor how long he was taking in even putting his pants on. All felt too heavy. It felt even heavy to let his cyborg side to be seen. Maybe it was due to already being a machine; a heavy, metal machine that dragged him down.
Whatever was the case, his hands didn't seem cooperate, stiffly lifting up his cape. His thumb randomly picked up on the material of it. He smirked a little. At least this was soft enough to lift it up. And it was comfortable as well. All cool-looking capes would need to be light to pick up. Finally clipping it to his vest, he flipped it upwards and watched it flutter in the air.
A good chill down his metallic spine. He chuckled in delight, wondering if it was from the cape flutter or the ending winter weather. He suddenly felt less worried about anything.
And then, when he stepped outside his room, he saw the blonde girl again with a smile.
He stepped back, blinking many times.
She wasn't there anymore.
He squinted his eyes, scanning the hallway for any anomalies. But there was no sign of that blonde girl. It was…only another distraction. Was this a sign of his old, weak self?
He swore it better not be a cyborg pulling a prank on him.
He was growing paranoid. The colorful lights provided some relief to brighten up what could be…dark. Well, he likes dark things. But he didn't want to do that too alone. The mysteriousness of this submarine, likely in isolation, was out of his control. Out of his comfort. Gave this nagging feeling someone from the dead had returned. Watching him.
The Great White Shark swallowed to feel something wet, but it came dry. He immediately recognized his heart pounding his chest. At least he was more self-aware and in control. By control, it meant swallowing again and forming a tight grin.
Against the odds, he skipped merrily down the hallway. A silly act to stay positive, he scolded himself.
He should stay confident and everything would go back to normal. He shouldn't feel awful.
He didn't notice his shoulders were shaking.
Fortunately, his paranoia wore off when he heard a familiar voice.
"Look, I don't care if you think the 'pack of wolves' are dangerous," snarled Splaarghön in the tone of a stern teacher. "You can't be a smartarse all the time."
Around the corner was the inclusive cafeteria room. It resembled a sci-fi-themed restaurant, filled with long lines of tables and chairs. Though, it looked more like a futuristic version of a crummy camp dining room for Oscar.
On the other side of the room was a futuristic house kitchen deck with stoves and shelves alongside a nearby door leading to the likely larger kitchen. Trays of food were already set up on the kitchen table, free for anyone to pick. Seeing such a small kitchen against a big dining room looked sad to Oscar. There wasn't much to feed around.
Oscar spotted the pink-haired cyborg rambling over her phone. With a face of alarm, Splaarghön was walking around in her own little circle. The repetitive clunks of her boots began increasing as she paced around more. Her angry and stern voice contrasted this endless energy. It was basically Oscar's first time seeing her anxiety like THIS.
Her boots were growing louder that it was nearly impossible to hear what she was saying.
"No, you're not seeing my point here," she said, her brows bent in frustration. Her voice struggling to remain neutral added to her growing tension. "I didn't let you join so that you use it as a justification to spit on someone."
There was a grumble on the other side and Splaarghön's response was a nervous stutter.
"OK, f-fine. But d-don't think I will go easy on you if you plan to do a bloody ripper in the flesh! I know what I saw."
The Great White Shark huffed, silently walking towards the stressed-out Splaarghön. For some reason, he felt apprehensive. Maybe it was because she was often the calmer of the twins. He did see her appear sad, but she didn't raise her voice before once.
When the caller on the other end said something inaudible, Splaarghön gasped in shock and placed her hand over her mouth. The stutter grew worse, unable to tell her disbelief.
"W-Weird?! WEIRD?!" she could only spit out. "Like your…why would you call your daughter…? You said you wanted the best for her and…" Her eyes were already stinging, unable to believe the NERVE of that guy. She drew in a deep breath, focusing on her tone of voice. "...forgive me for my outburst. Just…keep your mouth shut this time, alright? This goes against everything we want. I already have too many minds to pick on. Promise you won't break our oath."
She didn't bother to listen to the caller's answer, turning off her phone. Though, the lack of a reassuring answer prompted Splaarghön the urge to kick the floor. She was growing too anxious to handle this, yet the guy himself always kept up his attitude with no signs of stopping or learning. Who gave him the right to be self-righteous? This was not the policy she went for!
She immediately froze when she saw the deadpan Oscar watching her freak out.
"Sorry," she muttered. Her feet shuffled together, the last few remains of her anxiety. "It's just…something."
She expected Oscar to nag at her, but she forgot that he often wouldn't care.
"I'm cool," he said flatly. "Seems like you're not."
"Do you…think I'm a little crazy?" sputtered Splaarghön suddenly. "Wanting people to get along?"
Oscar raised an eyebrow. He didn't see the problem in that. It would sum up being an effective bad guy. "So?"
"So?" Splaarghön laughed deliriously, slapping her thigh. She looked crazy. She was treating it like it was the first mistake in her life. "OK, you at least have some influence, but it's not growing on my end. It's their values I cannot change. That invalidates my aim for this world. I just hope he listens to me."
The Great White Shark felt the need to roll his eyes, but he noted that Splaarghön didn't sound as confident as before. She sounded like a fed-up teenager. And he knew she was impassioned in her goals to make a better place. His stare was too long, thinking of saying something encouraging. However, he knew the truth too well. Too bad that she and Shaård wouldn't mess around with injustice.
He let the goofy, casual father side of him take over for this instance, rubbing Splaarghön's braid mohawk gently. The spikes only felt like soft pasta sticks, tickling his palm.
"Just admit it, child," he said. "It sounds like he might not listen. People are bound to go by their standards. It's not easy with all that white noise. Shaård might have his since you're so reluctant to tell him everything."
Splaarghön huffed, slapping his hand away. "I'm working on it."
Her phone buzzed again and Splaarghön accidentally threw it upwards. It bounced in her grabbing hands trying to hold it properly.
"Shoot!" she hissed, once again anxious. "I have an appointment with a family willing to join. You should-"
Oscar's stomach growled. He grinned humorously. "Nah, you won't even notice that I'm here."
When Splaarghön looked up after holding her phone properly, the Great White Shark suddenly tapped her shoulder from behind.
"Or here."
Splaarghön huffed in annoyance but chuckled in amusement. At least Oscar retained his sense of humor after last night's conversation. That thought made her feel better at least. As she thought of smiling, Oscar already marched right over to the food trays, his attention to rattle them instead.
"And don't hog up all that sloppy mince meat!" advised Splaarghön, lifting a finger upwards. "I had to wait an hour for a new batch for myself!"
"Oh, I'm definitely taking some for myself," teased Oscar. "I mean, the whole thing. After all, I'm a hungry shark!"
"Oh, hi, hungry shark," mimicked Splaarghön sarcastically, using the dad joke before he could. "I'm Splaarghön."
"And I'm Spencer," chimed a new voice.
She whipped around dramatically and her spiky braid ponytail nearly slapped into her new recruit. A tall human with light skin and white hair: a silver fox with a study build and tough-looking face. He managed to duck right on time, leaving a flustered Splaarghön pathetically trying to keep her braid ponytail behind the back of her head.
"Shoot…" she muttered. "Sorry, I didn't see you there."
Oscar slowly moved away, trying to not appear in the man's sight . The man looked cranky and causing a heart attack would spoil the mood. As he tried to hide behind the food trays, his eyes widened at the sight of the man's wife and their child. A girl bouncing around, chirping at the pretty colors.
Oscar expected just to be the man himself, but he never knew the recruitment process had to include the family. Maybe they had a youth program?
"You know you better have a grip on what you're wearing," deadpanned Spencer, rolling his shoulders.
"It's just the custom uniform," said Splaarghön flatly. "Everyone gets to make their own superhero suit to not look like terrorists."
"Well, thank God for that."
Spencer's child, looking no more than 10 years old, clung onto her father's jacket, wanting his attention.
"Daddy, is that a villain, Daddy?" she asked. There was no fear. Only pure excitement.
"No, no, sweetie," said Spencer's wife, picking her child up. "It's just a good person."
Even Splaarghön didn't expect the family. "You brought your wife and daughter here?"
"We caught word about you through the daily gossip," said Spencer, taking a seat at one of the tables. "A friend of mine said he was enrolled as a technician and now living here?"
Splaarghön clicked her tongue. "Well, he asked if he could stay in one of our bunks, so we gave him the opportunity."
"OK, so let's talk business, shall we?"
Oscar mindlessly grabbed a plate and began helping himself with the food trays. However, it felt more like digging dirt and putting it on a plate. It was meaningless. Peeking over the trays to see the interview happening was far more interesting. Bring on the drama! He watched quietly as Splaarghön and Spencer's family made themselves comfortable at the table they picked.
While his wife and child looked curious, Spencer's eyes narrowed in curiosity and apparent expectancy. He looked like the breadwinner who could provide his capabilities to this empire with a price.
Meanwhile, Splaarghön kept a casual yet polite stand, mindful of holding her hands together. The leader who could give anyone a chance if they have the right motivation. And what would convince her to let him in?
"You're interested in joining the Mecha Underlords?" she asked.
Spencer nodded. "You are indeed correct."
"Same here," said his wife.
"Me three!" chirped his child.
Immediately, Splaarghön gained a soft spot for the child, booping her nose. "Surprised you already got your rebellious touch, little girl."
The young child giggled, clapping her hands together.
"We heard your actions spelled out a message to the American government," said Spencer's wife. "Thought it was time when someone stepped up to do something that would rest in memory for decades. Not many people are willing to or fail to make something so extraordinary."
"Yes," said Splaarghön proudly. "Everyone needs a voice. This is what the Mecha Underlords are about."
"Eh, it's a good sight to see," commented Spencer, looking too serious in the matter. "But my only concern was how we should dress. You're wearing a really complex suit. It's still nice. Is it meant to be…some sort of symbol? I want to know how we should present ourselves."
"Why I look like this; just a fashionable choice to break the mould. Second, I'm a cyborg. That symbolizes moving forward from the past trying to tie you down. It's for the next generation, in a way, but the opportunity to become one allows everyone to be one of the same."
"Oooh, so you're a robot?" cooed the child.
"Yes," said Splaarghön, smirking. "I'm a robot."
"Huh," said Spencer's wife, nodding. "Then that's a lot of money you must have used to get all that. You must have worked a lot to earn it."
"The money wasn't really earned," snarked Oscar out-loud.
Unfortunately, the Great White Shark didn't keep his voice low enough. One look at him and Spencer's family jumped upwards in shock and arising fear. Even Spencer broke his stoic exterior, clinging onto his wife's arm like a stuffed toy.
"Oscar!" scolded Splaarghön, annoyed.
"Chaos almighty!" gasped Spencer's wife.
"It's a shark!" squealed the child, hiding behind her father.
"Surprised?" joked Oscar. "Oh, dear, you might need glasses and hearing sense."
Splaarghön lifted her hands up. "Now, everyone, calm down for a moment. I hired him. He's not the enemy."
"You mean a giant shark?!" exclaimed Spencer, his voice tainted with a new emotion.
"These kinds of animals are tempted to suck your blood and eat you for breakfast!" said his child.
Spencer's wife was the calmer of the trio, managing to get over her shock. "Now that's really far, missy."
Oscar realized that he should have stayed hidden, grinning sheepishly. Splaarghön gave him a look, but it wasn't a glare. To Oscar's surprise, it was one of pure worry. Her wide eyes were filled with fear again. Seeing this reaction, he was inclined to say 'sorry'. But he wouldn't get the right to say since he was indeed a shark. There was nothing to be ashamed of about his nature.
He could only twirl his hand around in a manner to say to go along with it.
Spencer narrowed his eyes, finding this strange to adapt to.
However, Splaarghön was trying to be rational.
Her voice was quiet and meek, not knowing how to explain to a bunch of people who didn't see the opportunities. "…well, bringing in a world-known criminal would somehow get more attention?"
"Attention for what?" questioned Spencer's wife, pulling her child close to her. "I thought this would be a safe place so that we can stay away from the building fees the government keeps pushing. But I won't trust leaving my child with a shark."
Spencer didn't look like he was gonna be nice anymore. Any last bit of professionalism was gone and replaced by disgust. "You really have to try that hard for attention? Well, it's a bold move, but I'll be hurst, it isn't logical. More or less, you'll look like a pig rolling in the alley of a smoky arcade."
Splaarghön shuffled her feet nervously. "Uh, well…I do have some points…"
"Sure, sure, thanks," grumbled Spencer, dismissively waving his hand. "But you're not listening to what I'm warning you. You'll lose your bank if news spreads about meances on the team. I mean, the Bad Guys are also making a ruckus in Melbourne. Would you see them as good role models? Who wants to rely on that? Might be inspirational, but it's only going to attract the scum of the earth, AKA the low-life people in the gutter who do anything for only a pulse and two eyes."
Oscar didn't really feel anything to this, but Splaarghön froze.
"And if your dog is off your leash, then your intentions are a waste of time," added Spencer. "They're just your fellow druggies."
"Yeah!" said Spencer's child, innocently unaware of her father's condescension. "He told me that poor people deserve to die!"
There was a long, extended silence between the humans. Splaarghön barely made a word, staring at them for a long time. Oscar nearly thought of coming up with a dad joke when the pink-haired cyborg's hand began shaking. And then, when he could see a good look on her face, he saw her pink eye painted by a darker shade.
Before Oscar could look further into this, Splaarghön slowly stood up and clapped her hands sarcastically.
"I supposed that the guy who told you about what I'm advocating for didn't explain our whole mission thoroughly, huh?" she said monotonously.
Oscar suddenly felt uncomfortable. Something was off. But why did the room looked normal?
But at that wonder, the lights flickered.
It could be due to electrical issues, right?
His eyes glanced at the ceiling lights and then back at Spencer's family. To his surprise, they saw the same problem. Meanwhile, Splaarghön didn't seem to care, remaining in her stand. She looked TOO still. One moment, she acted naturally. Next, she was a stiff, plastic doll. Unshakable.
"You don't seem to care about the people I'm trying to help, do you?" she silently snarled, apathetic to the rest of her world. "Do you want to know how it feels like to be left cold, shivering, underneath the newspaper while the rest of the world moves on?"
Oscar's chest tightened. He gasped, clutching his stomach. His forehead was cold. It was the same feeling as when he first hallucinated Lou the day before. He was growing helpless. Again.
He knew something wasn't right, but he couldn't tell if Spencer's family was suddenly aware. He looked around, trying to find any anomalies. The Great White Shark couldn't see anything different in this vision. The only signs of keeping in touch with reality were his pounding heartbeat and the fearful reactions of the family.
And then, the distortions happened.
A distorted prisoner towered over him, her eyes blazing black with a loud scream. He yelped and covered his mouth. The whiny scream he hated to make.
Spencer gasped as well, turning to him with a somewhat understanding look. But then, he jumped when a car flew into his face. Or what looked like a real car. It only disappeared when he tried to duck. His alert eyes frantically searched for it
Spencer's family and Oscar suddenly crossed their arms. It was cold. Despite being inside, they felt the breeze of the ocean. Or was it the forest?
It felt close to sitting in a coffin.
"The cigarette smoke making you feel sane?" continued Splaarghön, unfazed. "The breeze that makes you feel dirty? And all the guilt and regrets for not amounting to saving a penny when anyone can steal it. And yet, I pulled them back here for something more worthwhile."
An orchestra of random whispers flew above their heads. Almost everyone except Splaarghön looked up to find where they were coming from.
Oscar winced, hearing his son's voice again.
"You want to be feared? Then, bE fEaReD!"
Oscar clutched his head, trying to maintain his breathing. He was hyperventilating again. He was becoming weak. The only reason why he let himself hold onto his fragile body was because Spencer and his family were going through the same thing now. No one had the damnest idea what was going on.
When black dust flew around them, it confirmed that they were in a lights kept flickering, briefly bathing the room in darkness. Nobody had a clue if they were seeing the black dust or not.
Their eyes widened in horror as they could feel themselves freezing. Ice cold. The same feeling as touching new ice or being coated in it! And it would be similar to being left alone in the slums.
The child tried closing her eyes, only to open them with a loud scream. Their parents flinched with heaving chests and rapid eye dartings to every part of this room. Their chests were heaving too quickly, puffing up and down like a rubber band constantly stretched. Too inhumane for them.
They tried staring at each other, only for a scribble to flash over them. The face of a monster. They shouted with a mix of rage and fear. One could say to be a scream of defiance to the monster.
Splaarghön remained eerily unresponsive to the world. "But you…if you were a leader, you would have dismissed the 'sick'. Too much time drinking beer and the footy, only aroused by the main boy toys 'promising' breakable prizes."
She scratched the table with the spikes on her glove to emphasize 'breakable'. It wasn't even a deep cut, but it left an ear-aching, piercing screech. For once, Oscar found himself afraid. Afraid of the little things she did.
"The Great White Shark is not a good role model, but he did make a choice to try to be loyal to us," continued Splaarghön, her voice tinged in restrained fury. "He listened to me. You should have considered this is a world we are fighting together 'cause let me tell you this."
She leaned in closer, pressing her palms against the table. She was already up close to Spencer, their noses touching. The second he saw her, his eyes widened in true fear. A fear that she might actually do something worse because she was real. And upon seeing the utter fear of an excuse, the pink-haired cyborg smirked victoriously.
"I never hold back from people who won't lift a hand in trying anything."
The warning was sent straight away, leaving Spencer weakly nodding. Oscar was surprised at how his demeanor changed from meathead to moppy marshmallow. Despite feeling out of his mind, he wondered how Splaarghön could actually do this.
Was she…in control of the state of the room?
And then, it stopped.
The lights weren't flickering anymore.
The cold breeze disappeared in an instant.
Oscar's heart was still pounding and he was in a cold sweat. His forehead was still ice cold. Even though the visions weren't as bad as before, they left him speechless. No words to describe what he saw. He scanned the room, wanting to make sure that it was reality. There were no sign of any distorted pictures or voices. They remained in his mind as a new memory.
Even Spencer's family was confused. Spencer's child was already crying, sobbing in her mother's chest. Both Spencer and his wife stared at each other. They took another shuffle away from each other, already in distrust. After a while, they turned back to the glaring Splaarghön.
"Anyway," she snarled, letting a dark growl escape through her lips. "You get it. You can either join us or not. But not joining wouldn't matter anyway, would it?"
Spencer wasn't able to wisecrack Splaarghön. For a moment, she looked like a monster. And then, she looked just…angry. It was unsettling to see someone blinded by what he just saw and only cared about putting a screw in his skull.
"Good talk," said Splaarghön, turning her back. "The exit door is on your right."
The pink-haired cyborg marched back to Oscar, too exhausted to look back at Spencer and his family. They had already made their leave, slowly trying to crawl away from the scene. Spencer, surprisingly, was the only one sticking around. He looked back Splaarghön and his fearful eyes turned into frustration. Instead of running, he shook his head and sulked away.
Up this close, Oscar noticed Splaarghön's pink eye returned to a healthy and vibrant shade.
She appeared too calm, too calculated. Just like when she played games on the prisoner he slaughtered last night…
"Did you…did you see or hear those things?" asked Oscar, trying to keep it louder than a whisper.
Splaarghön looked confused. "What things?"
Oscar wanted to tell her but didn't want to show her he was scared again. Instead, he decided to act professional and inform her what he saw around Spencer's family.
"There was that cold breeze in the room," he said in a distant tone, not knowing his fists were clenching tightly. "And then, when the two parents looked at each other, a demonic face flashed over each other. And the lights were flickering." He paused, not wanting to invoke Splaarghön again. "What's that all about?"
Splaarghön wasn't on the same page. She didn't feel a breeze or see the lights flickering. She rubbed her pink eye and then it clicked to her. But the weirdest thing was that she didn't feel a headache when it…activated unconsciously.
It seemed that this reveal got Splaarghön thinking about what she did. If Oscar saw all of this, then that meant he was included. The person she said was loyal to her. The exhaustion wearing her down kicked in once again and she turned her eyes down at the floor in shame.
"Oh, right," she said, rubbing her hands. "I didn't notice. Well, that explains why the pain was in my chest when I zipped that freak's mouth. Is my power…that strong? How far could it spread?"
Oscar thought of telling her what he felt. Tell her the truth. Tell her she scared him for once. That would be an achievement. But he didn't want to admit it. The Great White Shark never does. Splaarghön was still young, so he could understand she didn't have full control of her manipulation ability. But while the lack of control could haunt even the toughened minds, this could mean big things for everyone.
In the end, he cracked a small smile. Despite not taking pleasure in seeing Spencer suffer, he only smiled for taking in the madness. "One thing for sure: you're a God. I mean, by then, you don't need the Eden Apples to rule the world."
The comment didn't make Splaarghön feel too great. Her humanity was coming back to light, her pink eye glowing intensely. She never reacted this strong before. She never got many under her spell, especially if they were close. The previous anger she held towards Spencer turned into regret. This could happen to anyone she didn't want to bother.
The only thing that kept her feeling right was that she hit a peak with the powers she gave herself.
With a deep breath in and out, she chose to listen to Oscar.
"OK," she whispered. "I trust you then." She took a few more seconds to consider what to say next. "Don't tell Shaård about this when he takes you to your lab for today."
At first, the Great White Shark would have muttered that he wouldn't bother telling Shaård anyway, but it wouldn't make a difference.
"OK then," he said simply. "I won't."
Los Angeles, America
Hornet had trouble sleeping last night. By the time he came out with Moe for a morning stroll, the bright orange sun and the summer blue sky were jarring to his current mood. On some days, he would feel like a wreck whenever he had nightmares.
For some reason, this moment was different. Not because he didn't have a dream or because the weather suddenly turned sour. It was only a reminder that he wasn't even close to the end of his case.
Two things kept him up all night.
His 'chat' with Piranha wasn't that much, given it was through text messages. Usually, Piranha saved texts for whenever in a rush or taking too long to reply. However, he replied in time when Hornet texted back. He noted the repetitive and spiritless tone in those messages. Piranha was only telling the story, not his analysis. Text messages were still a good coverage, but Hornet sensed something wrong.
If they had done a video chat, he would have seen the state Piranha was in. It was scary since his boyfriend might have been in hot waters. Hornet nearly thought of asking questions about Piranha's mission, but he stopped right there. Things were already going crazy and there was some sort of understanding between the two that they had different businesses to worry about.
Speaking of which, the memory of the mysterious woman was what kept him up all night to watch everything. He was a witness to her random animal assault. He was a witness to her licking her bloody lips. He didn't want to be a deceased witness to someone who might be involved with Sunnyside Laboratories. Emphasis on 'might'.
He remembered the footage he found at the mall. The diggers who were reported before they died. Susan got caught in a trap with people wearing black leather, similar to those wearing the black vests. It could be a coincidence, but they might be involved with 'picking up' the Sunnyside researchers.
Hornet realized there wasn't that much focus on the researchers who disappeared. Alex must have known their relatives, but they didn't seem to be told of their jobs. Nearly nobody paid attention since it was assumed these researchers just ran off. But the idea that this woman and her crew 'needing' them and taking them off the radar…
He swallowed hard to build up readiness in acknowledgement that he had to work fast before permanent disappearances were confirmed.
Despite being scared of Sunnyside Laboratories, he couldn't help but feel pity for the researchers being kidnapped by a gang who worked for them. They didn't exactly deserve to be taken. Stored away from everyone else. Maybe even stopping them from having the chance to redeem themselves from past mistakes.
These feelings developed when he searched across the streets of Los Angeles. A cover-up for his casual stroll before heading to his office. Could have been a quick look, but he was on high alert. He easily stood out from the taller humans with a cat following him. Their orange colors could be recognizable and distinct. His dour expression gave red flags for those who were cheerily smiling away.
And anyone wearing a striped shirt and a leather vest would recognize him as an infamous criminal, so that was a downside.
He couldn't even fall for biases since an 'obvious sight' would work. Too many people would wear yellow and black striped shirts or black vests. He must find the people associated with this mysterious suspect, but it could be anyone unless they showed the freaky cyborg looks!
Eventually, he retreated to the corner of a dark alley, peeking around the corner. He was sitting on Moe's head. The cat was sitting on a garbage dumpster, happily patting its lid. Hornet swore that the cat was playing along because, judging by how Moe kept shifting his head left and right, he had no idea who they were supposed to look for.
"Any suspects, little guy?" asked Hornet randomly, reaching down to rub the cat's back.
Moe only meowed, trying to sound like he was sure.
"...you know what? Scratch that. Just stare at anyone who looks suspicious."
The cat suddenly hissed at a nearby ice cream shop. Maybe it was due to the ridiculous amount of pink slaughtering the walls, the curtains and the inside, even all over the workers' clothes.
"No, not that," said Hornet, shaking his head.
Out of nowhere, Mira slowly rose from behind the dumpster with a camera in hand.
"What's up?" she said.
Moe let out a loud yelp and Hornet followed with an equally-high jump in a high-pitched scream. He picked up the closest thing to throw.
A moldy pizza slice with anchovies.
Equivalent to drool, it slid down Mira's face. A minute of silence and then she sputtered out anchovies.
"Was that a pizza slice you threw at me?" she asked.
"...no?" squeaked Hornet sheepishly. "...it was my breakfast. S-Sorry, Mira!"
Mira sighed, brushing her stained collar. "Sorry for scaring you. I'll try not to do that again."
The look on the frightened Moe's face told her he wasn't convinced.
Hornet was more flexible. "It's alright, but what were you doing in the alley?"
"Investigative journalism. Have to keep up with the daily crime and murder. Sometimes, they can be used for police investigation. Gives me some field experiences in watching the latest street brawls."
"Normally, street brawls make you the victim, even when you post the picture online."
"But not when you're hiding."
"You mean hiding in clothes like these?" asked Hornet, even gesturing to his outfit. "Yeah, we three blend in well."
Once Moe calmed down, the orange tabby cat's eyes turned soft at the sight of the kind journalist. He crawled forwards, purring affectionately. Mira offered a smile and scratched the back of his ear, receiving a louder pur. Looking back up, she noticed that Hornet was watching the busy traffic of breakfast and morning shopping. The bright sunshine placed the laneway in an orange tint, highlighting the colors of the stores. There were already people around, stopping by cafes just for a coffee.
This would be where anyone would want to hide.
Hornet sighed, rubbing the top of his head. "Remember when I quickly told you and Alex about the woman who might have worked with Sunnyside Labs before?"
"Yes. I tried checking, but aside from those two dummies at Centralway Mall, there are no news sources talking about their crimes. Their outfits aren't even unique. Striped shirts are stereotypical for burgulars. Leather vests and jackets can be sold anywhere. Alex reported nothing so far as well."
Hornet clicked his tongue. "They are really good at hiding like this. Mira, I have a feeling they are responsible for those missing."
Moe opened his eyes and turned back to Hornet. He let out a meow, wanting to say that their clothing wasn't enough to make the suspects the real villains. Evil-looking people were the ones responsible, right?
Mira, on the other hand, thought a bit more closely. "Their leather vests might not be the same brand or size from the jackets we saw in the footage. Did you even see their supposed leader or her crew buddies wielding firearms?"
"No, but the fact that these people can hide in the crowd proves they know we are watching," muttered Hornet. "This is our best lead to follow…"
Hornet paused for a second, turning to Mira. Still holding that camera, much like anyone who wasn't in the action. The watcher but not the active fighter. The camera might not last long, but he knew she would be able to see things that would remain in her memory. And possibly, a last hurrah to celebrate.
The little bug was suddenly scared. He knew Mira came all this way, but this might come from the first time she would get out there on active investigation, close to dangerous scenes. Investigative journalism was one thing, but dealing with a mega case? Would she be alright?
Hornet clutched his stomach, wincing in guilt. "Do you really want to search with me?"
Mira's response was simple. "If given the possibility, I would. I am a journalist after all. I do research!" The journalist gave a snicker. "Get it?"
But Hornet wasn't amused by her pun, giving a deadpanned reaction.
Noticing that no one was laughing with her, Mira cleared her throat. "Right."
"I'm not sure if it's safe for you to do so. You could get hurt!"
"Hornet, I have a shared responsibility as much as yours in this case. And I did make it here without drawing attention, didn't I? Besides, I've been through this before, remember?"
Hornet quickly looked behind Mira to see if she wasn't bluffing. It was a continuous dark alley, but there was nobody. He looked back at the busy street. In this proximity, anyone hiding a knife could spring up to her. He thought back to that day on Mira's first field research. No. It didn't nearly went well. And now, she wouldn't be prepared. He turned back to her, reflexively picking on his good antenna.
"Y-Yes…" Hornet paused. Why did he have to stutter? Gulping, he tried to keep the tone of his voice clear to share his concerns. "But…I think it might be good if I do this on my own. You and Moe never went into a fight before. And right here, it could be ANYONE who would drive a dagger to your throat. You have a safe job and a daughter to go home to, so you can't just…"
Hornet couldn't finish his sentence as he held his head, overwhelmed. The memory of seeing a fellow hornet warrior dying was vivid. He nearly imagined the same for Mira. And it wasn't just the horror, but also the guilt of having a close friend killed. Moe only survived by pure luck, but he wasn't willing to let him, Mira or Alex get hurt. Never again.
On Mira's side, she knew that Hornet would say this. His soft eyes brimmed with concern told her this. However, she was determined. By now, after the sharing of his journey and praising Alex's bravery for coming to him, she knew she would be wanting and needing to be capable of having the same journey. Walking away would mean she wouldn't care about the wellbeing of good and innocent people.
"You told Alex they took a step into the criminal world," she said quietly. "And am I still too behind? I know this is dangerous, but I want to help instead of expecting others to do the work. We are a good team, remember? I'm your best friend too. Someone got to look out for YOU as well."
Hornet couldn't counter this point. She wasn't wrong about last night. Maybe it was knowing Alex's readiness in using a gun. Maybe it was due to their caution towards the mean streets. While he didn't know their work experience, he knew Mira's field experience as a journalist.
The dangerous work of journalists watching violent aftermaths and spitting interviewees must have encouraged her to take up the challenge.
One look at Moe and the cat nodded. In his mind, Moe felt like they would need all the help from the people who cared for them. Wolf would help if he could! Especially against the no-good Marmalade.
With a deep breath, Hornet came to terms that he couldn't shake Mira away from this case. She was here to look out for him. Thinking about that gave him a fond memory of when he joined the Bad Guys.
It was bittersweet. It was ironic. He smiled sadly, exhaling lightly. At least he didn't feel too heavy on his shoulders.
"You know, you remind me a lot of being in the rookie stage," he said. "And I don't know if working as a rookie in a dangerous mission would make survival likely."
Mira nodded sadly. "Well, no one can live forever."
"I had the Bad Guys to turn to and I felt more than ready to be a part since I was…" Hornet scoffed to himself, cracking a small smirk. "Aimless. You know my first-ever heist mission."
The media-savvy Mira smirked. "Your first debut. People went crazy with how clever you were with the shutter doors."
"That too…and I was on the lookout. I was hesitant since I wanted to do more, but I understood the risks. And I was like you that day until I learned a lot to help my friends. But back then, it wasn't as intense as the Golden Dolphin heist. And now…we haven't gone over the rest of the training for something like this."
"And in a typical story, the hero doesn't learn until he has the experience," pointed out Mira. "That's why I came down that road to know the criminal world better and…" She cut herself off before she mentioned anything too insensitive or clingy. "Well, you get my drift."
Hornet closed his eyes. He had a feeling that Mira would want to use this to know him better and maybe even the Bad Guys. She didn't say it, but he was starting to see this and it was a burden. It might even become meaningless. However, he reminded himself that the two did work fairly when investigating Centralway Mall. Mira even played a big part in providing him inside resources he would need.
It was a start yet still risky.
Hornet crossed his arms as if trying to protect himself. "You weren't aimless as a child. You got something to look back on."
"I'm not saying you're aimless," said Mira. "You know a lot of people say they are aimless. It's still my choice and I'm already conversing with people like you."
"Yet you nearly give them the impression of being a visible target."
"Well, it's good that I found a crew by then. Just like you."
Knowing that she made a point, Hornet conceded for now. It wouldn't mean the next big trip he would sugarcoat things. He was still worried about her safety since she seemed to dedicate this too seriously for her expertise.
But it was nice having someone accompanying him for this. At least he wouldn't make this alone.
Moe suddenly hissed again, running to the edge of the dumpster. He was hissing at the ice cream shop again. Mira held back a giggle, but Hornet chuckled at the cat's overreaction.
"Well, here's your chance," joked Hornet, bowing.
Mira rolled her eyes playfully. Coming closer to the exit point of the alley, she played along in inspecting the ice cream store at a long distance…her smile dropped.
"Hey, does that girl fit the bill of who you're looking for?" asked the journalist, lifting up her camera.
What?
That was the word Hornet could think of as he looked at the ice cream shop properly. It was nearly hard to tell due to the many shades of pink painting the customers. All of them stood out, each holding a cheery breakfast meal. All smiles and lips covered in white, brown and pink.
But one person stood out from the crowd. Ordered an ice cream sundae, a weird choice for breakfast. It didn't contain any red, green or purple fruits, smothered in an unhealthy golden and brown color. The sundae was also in a paper takeaway cup, so she could just carry it outside.
And the mysterious woman was there, her eyes on the sundae.
Hornet immediately recognized her for the small vest and the black dreadlocks in blue and turquoise streaks. He checked her full outfit through the window and it was the same outfit from last night.
"Short leather vest that looks like a top," listed Mira, taking a photo. "Colored dreadlocks in a bun. Blue and teal, you said? One more thing; where's the blue eye you mentioned?"
Hornet didn't answer yet. He wasn't sure if this was their right target. He immediately took out his helmet and quickly hacked into the nearest camera inside the shop. Thirty seconds later, his helmet speakers emitted the chatter inside. But their suspect wasn't talking at all. Still staring at her ice cream sundae.
In fact, her eyes were unmoving, vacant and unfocused.
He glanced away from his helmet screen, checking through the window. She was in the same position, looking more like a puppet who was turned off. It was as if her body was just resting there without a soul.
He checked back on the helmet…and the camera live footage showed a different angle of the scene.
The woman's head was facing the camera with a sharp-toothed grin and a blue eye.
It was yellow tears.
Hornet's instinct was to nearly drop the helmet. He glanced at the windows. The woman was still staring at her sundae without recognizing her surroundings, but her mouth was slowly opening. What followed was his helmet picking up sounds of what appeared to be her breathing…
"Hey there, Onsàáy!" piped a happy voice.
That voice cut the supernatural tone, flipping the reality switch. Even this woman named 'Onsàáy' jumped upwards with a startled yelp. And that was when her blue eye and yellow pupil flashed briefly. Right on time, Mira snapped a photo at the very second.
The journalist noticed Hornet shivering. "You're alright?"
Hornet didn't exactly know how to form it in words. "I…I don't know…it's her."
"Fits the bill now," said Mira. "She has the same colored eye as the previous two robbers at Centralway." She narrowed her eyes, confused. "And…her name is 'Onsàáy'?"
Moe growled, his eyes narrowed at Onsàáy. He could smell her scent. She smell like a cheese-coated rat…
Hornet made sure that nobody was watching them in the alley and flew to hide behind the garbage dumpster. Mira and Moe did the same, not wanting to be seen by their primary suspect. As they sat against the wall, Hornet rested on Mira's knee while adjusting the volume speaker in his helmet. Once loud enough, they both watched the camera live footage displayed on the tiny visor.
Hornet lifted his head. Wait a minute, could Mira see? She wiggled her glasses but didn't come close or squint her eyes. Weird, thought Hornet. He shrugged before lying on his belly as he watches.
Inside the ice cream shop, Onsàáy clutched her heaving chest. She was in her thoughts, contemplating past events. Until an old friend of hers came back to the table and scared the living crap out of her. Fortunately, none of the other customers in the shop noticed her small freak-out.
"Dude! Don't scare me like that, Emerald!" she scolded.
Her friend was a little slow to understand, licking her spoon from her small ice cream cup. She had light peach skin, dyed ice-blue hair and her outfit consisted of a cheery yellow, baggy jacket, a cute blue dress with jeans as her leggings and combat black boots.
"Sorry," she chirped with a chuckle of innocence. "I thought you would have heard me coming. But why were you like this moping away?"
"I was not moping!" insisted Onsàáy. "I was brooding. Girls like me brood."
"You seem to have got this from your ex-girlfriend."
Onsàáy sighed. "She's not my ex, Emerald. Nor my girlfriend ever…"
Emerald immediately realized what she said, her cheerful smile disappearing. "Sorry."
Onsàáy looked down, idly fiddling with Emerald's spoon. In this trance, she mistakenly placed it into her sundae. Onsàáy didn't notice, already back to staring into the void.
Outside, Hornet briefly did a head check to ensure she wasn't watching him. He didn't want her using supernatural forces on him.
After a long while, she sighed and dug the spoon into her ice cream.
"...well, you're kind of right," she admitted. "Mornings are the worst…"
Emerald blinked dumbly before picking up the change in topic. "Oh! I know, right? But aren't you the kind of person who loves to riot in the daytime?"
"Yes, but waking up is a…you know what I mean." Her manner and body language seemed to suddenly put on a diva-like attitude. The tone of her voice turned witty and whimsical and her free hand gestures around like her nails were hot news. "It stinks that I stay up too long keeping the ultras together. Sure, I let them go wild, but it pains me the most whenever I need to revive a body every time."
Even when addressing a gnarly subject, Onsàáy only treated it like it was an annoyance to fuss about.
Emerald laughed. It didn't last when she spotted Onsàáy using HER spoon to scoop a tiny bit of her sundae, plopping into her mouth. She tried to say something, but Onsàáy was already through with swallowing.
Breaking into a sweat, Emerald tried thinking of something else.
"Speaking of which," she said. "Are you sure that finding and kidna-knitting! Knitting…with your wanted 'employees', umm…morality?"
Onsàáy groaned like a brat, scooping from her sundae. "Aww, do you have to tell me now? We talked about this! Can't it wait until my experiment is done?"
"Yeah, but seriously." Emerald wasn't joking anymore, looking genuinely concerned. She kept her voice to a minimum. "Even though there had been rumors spread around, I heard the cops weren't doing anything to address those…'disappearances'. But, unless it's a legal birthday party, the more you take in, the more attention it will bring to global stakes. So…that would…?"
Onsàáy barely paid attention, already slurping her second scoop. "Hmm?"
Emerald raised both eyebrows, hoping her friend would follow on.
"...mean I have more people to slay?"
This time, it was Emerald's turn to groan. "No! YOU'LL be the one to be slain by even the most untouchable people alive!"
"And then, I get to slay more people!" said Onsàáy gleefully. "I mean, that sounds kind of hot."
"Do you have the slightest clue that you might receive the death penalty?!"
Onsàáy shrugged, immediately looking unhappy. "A little, but I hope that brings a REAL challenge. I will literally kill myself."
"Use all your remaining time to think," said Emerald. "I nearly fell when I tried joining your friend's little cult until you picked me up. This is serious. People worried for the ones you stole will do anything to find them. You're crazy thinking you'll get away with this."
Onsàáy rolled her eyes, her teeth gritted. "Not the first time I heard it. But you're forgetting THAT simple, little detail."
When she growled, Emerald thought of leaning back. Onsàáy could be scary if she was close to being angry.
Meanwhile, Hornet immediately took note of this. The last time Onsàáy was called crazy, she responded with a creepy laugh. This time, she seemed to take offense to it. Emerald must be a close friend, so hearing from her might be more personal.
It only gave Hornet questions on who Onsàáy exactly was.
Moe meowed, shaking Hornet gently. The little bug refocused just in time to see Onsàáy quickly dragging Emerald away. The bathroom was closed, so they resorted to hiding in a janitor's room. Hornet tried switching to the closest camera, but by the time he did, the two closed the door.
He tapped on the screen. No camera included in the janitor's room.
He, Mira and Moe could only hear the noises.
"...well, this is terribly uncomfortable," squeaked Emerald's voice.
"Look, I know the two of us don't really like looking back on this that much," said Onsàáy's voice firmly. "But this is what I managed to find earlier this morning."
Emerald gasped. "Whoa! Is that the Devil Ship of the Mecha Underlords?"
"Yes. I recognize the model. But most importantly, look. That's where they are."
"...in Australia, huh. I thought they are swimming around the world."
"Out of all the places, they decided to be close to home…no matter. But be careful, as it seems to be on voice command. Promise me you take a picture of it and post it online."
"Why should I do so and not you?"
"Because if there's no proof from someone who isn't a thug, then how are we going to exactly take them down!"
"I thought you didn't want the police to be involved-"
"J-Just do it! I need to burn the Mecha Underlords to the ground! With EVERYTHING we got! And I'm trusting you since you are not a criminal like me!"
There was a long period of silence.
Quiet breathing from Onsàáy.
Mira glanced at Hornet.
Hornet stared at Mira.
Both felt intense by the situation.
They waited to hear if Onsàáy would attack…
Fortunately, they heard a long sigh from Emerald. She sounded more reluctant than scared.
"OK, fine," she said. "And if so…then I trust you know what you're doing."
"Then I owe you this much," said Onsàáy.
Out of the blue, a loud police siren echoed through the street, interrupting the peaceful atmosphere. Several people who were previously minding their own business were now looking up to see the source of the siren. Mira immediately placed a finger over Hornet's mouth to keep him quiet.
The little bug could only dart his eyes from left to right in fear that the police would catch up to him. But when he looked at his helmet visor, it turned out to be related to Onsàáy.
"Oof," she grumbled. "That's my cue to run. Have to go now. Call me!"
"Good luck, queen," said Emerald robotically.
Onsàáy burst out from the janitor's room, clenching her teeth when she heard the police sirens growing louder. Ten seconds of poking around and the police would discover what she did with the guy she interrogated. Brushing her leather vest, she took a deep breath and placed on a mask of sanity.
Perfectly acting casual and confused about the nearby police cars, she picked up her ice cream sundae from her table and cheerfully skipped outside the shop. She took another scoop with the same spoon, savoring it in her mouth.
Cupcakes and rainbows popped out from her, as sweet as her smile could go.
Immediately, Hornet flew from his hiding spot and tried chasing down Onsàáy. The woman turned around a corner into an alleyway and once Hornet arrived, she was nowhere to be seen. He tried using his helmet to scan the area, but there were no signs of her. The only clue was her footprints, but…they seemed to stop on the first few steps into the alleyway.
The little bug cursed to himself, shaking a fist. Onsàáy and her crew appeared stronger than they looked.
As he slowly flew from the alley, Mira joined him with a perturbed look, holding a baffled Moe in her arms.
"What happened?" he asked.
Mira inhaled sharply. "Onsàáy seems to keep leaving people in stitches."
The two of them turned to where the crowd was observing. Police cars swarmed around an office building, clearing people out. Two paramedics were carrying an unconscious person on a stretcher. To everyone's stupefaction, the unconscious guy in black clothes had his back facing them with twisted legs and arms behind his back.
"He's not dead, but he needs serious surgery," said one of the paramedics. "Now, c'mon! We don't have that much time."
"And our suspect has caused a second murder," groaned Hornet. "Surprised."
"It must be something he holds that has this 'devil ship'," muttered Mira.
"Speaking of which…"
Hornet and Mira slowly turned around to find Emerald humming to herself as she skipped out of the ice cream shop. She mournfully surveyed the alley Onsàáy disappeared in and sadly held tight on her spoon-less ice cream cup. Her eyes were filled with wonder and longing, thinking of other possibilities at reach.
Now that they could see it, she ordered a vanilla ice cream cup with rainbow fillings. The two giant scoops looked like they weren't touched, perfect.
Lifting her chin high and mustering enough confidence, Emerald smirked and skipped across the road. Deciding to not worry about the crime scene her friend caused, she licked her ice cream cup to sweeten things up.
"We gotta get her," said Hornet.
"How do you want to do it?" asked Mira.
Moe hissed, raising one paw up to show his sharp claws.
"No, murder is not the answer."
"Yeah, don't use my name for it. Maybe something a little discreet?" offered Hornet. "I think it's only a little hard to do so in this area. I don't want to blow up on her."
Back with Emerald, she made it to a proper bathroom. With her left hand waving around her ice cream cup and her right hand brushing her ice blue pigtails. She fell in love with how she flipped her hair upwards, looking at how these strands fall gracefully in the mirror. Humming a happy tune, she imagined brushing her shiny hair again.
"I'm still the baddest, no doubt!" she sang without any musical keys. "Bring your cards until they go down."
She thought she was the only one in the room until she saw a frying pan in the mirror behind her. Emerald gasped, not turning around. The frying pan looked like it was floating on its own.
And she got a good glimpse of its owner's creepy grin.
"Surprise!" sneered the little bug carrying the pan.
BANG!
Hornet and Mira reached the public bathroom, the latter opening the door. The two were thinking about coming in with a peaceful offering, but that flew out of the window at the sight they walked into. Both their jaws dropped in disbelief.
An anthropomorphic fly cackled to himself, counting the money notes he got from Emerald. The blue-haired girl was down on the floor, lying on her stomach. A huge bump grew from the back of her head where she was hit. Nothing like an ordinary theft in this part of town.
"AHEM!" coughed Hornet.
The fly froze. "...this is not what it looks like! It's just a prank!"
AN: Aside from some chuckles, we get to see the implications of what Splaarghön and Onsàáy could do. I'll let you all deduce what they really are.
For the scene concerning Splaarghön casting a nightmare onto Spencer's family and, unfortunately, Oscar, I took inspiration from Everything Everywhere All At Once to create this mysterious, absurd and horrifying nature. It's a full illusion, but I wanted to make it like a realm where you can't trust anyone, suddenly. Splaarghön's demeanor could even match Jobu Tupaki and the hell she brought.
Additionally, Spencer's attitude towards Oscar's inclusion took some influences from nasty lines in Doki Doki Literature Club.
The details of Hornet's first crime with the Bad Guys are actually elements from the same thing happening in Rally's story! We talked over what Hornet and Mira would talk about in this moment and that was when we came to calling back to Hornet's time as a rookie. Connecting to how Mira was still a starter due to no experience in fighting or face-to-face with threats.
Guess what, everyone? If you have been a long-time follower of mine, you would recognize Emerald! The dorky, clumsy and cheerful rabbit from Forces United! After feeling that I didn't do much in her despite her role in 'A Test You Must Partake', I decided to include an alternative version here, even if it's gonna last two chapters. The dynamic between her and Onsàáy is surprisingly engaging with some hints of romance, well, but that's probably one-sided.
The state Onsàáy left her interrogated man to be in was actually the stock death pose from Family Guy. And Emerald getting wrecked is inspired by SMG4: Mario in real life!? (200 vid special).
What do you think of today's encounters and Mecha Underlords reeking chaos in urban environments? Let me know in your reviews. If you enjoy this story so far, be sure to favorite or follow. Constructive criticism is appreciated, but if any flames, then it's down the drain.
Until next time, keep on rocking!