A violent gust of wind whipped across the Forsaken Valley coastline, carrying a sickly stench of fusion that tainted the very air. The ocean waves, once blue, now corrupted a murky green, corrupted by the invasive fusion matter as they churned relentlessly against the shore. The once-pristine sand was now stained an unnatural greenish hue, and the thick palm trees were bent and twisted under the assault of the storm, their leaves barely clinging to their branches.
The sky above was a disgusting color of gray and green, a terrible blend of storm clouds and fusion pollution that blocked out any trace of sunlight. Lightning flashed intermittently, briefly illuminating the desolate landscape in eerie bursts, while the constant patter of rain drummed against the earth.
At the edge of the jungle, the once lively and vibrant jungle had been ruined by the wreckage of what had once been an advanced spacecraft. Its charcoal-black and carmine-red hull, mangled and ruined, jutted out from the mud and sand. The markings on its surface (seemingly belonging to Mandarek) made it unmistakable; Whatever high-tech marvel this vessel had once been, it was now nothing more than a rusting ruin, half-sunk into the mud pits of the valley. Flickering lights barely clung to life from deep within the wreck, signaling a slow death for the once fearsome machine.

Through the chaos of the storm, hidden between a cluster of trees, a small makeshift camp struggled to withstand the elements. Scrap tarps and blankets formed crude but necessary barriers, flapping wildly as the wind tore at their edges, held in place by hooks stabbed deep into the ground. It was forged together from a blend of wreckage scrap metal, hastily put together in a cube-shaped structure. It proved to be comfy enough that one could climb inside to escape the harsh conditions, for now.
On top of this structure was a tall, slender radar tower, firmly erect in place. Despite being a rickety creation, it had been reinforced with several layers of tape and adhesive to keep it firm. The straps, wires, and extra debris added to its weight to keep it up. Its horrible state didn't stop it from being fully functional, it was also broadcasting a strong enough signal out into the storm sky, calling out to anyone that might be listening.

Inside the cube, a worn Dynamo suit helmet sat by itself. It had two distinct piercing amber-yellow eyes and an unmistakable clear-white sharp-toothed glare. The helmet was plugged into a crude power outlet, cables spiraling around from its sides. It stared lifelessly out toward the rain in front, watching the land decay around it every day. A single wire pulsed faintly, indicating that despite the harsh conditions, this lone helmet had some purpose left to serve before it fully died.

Holding the battered helmet in his worn hands was a man who hadn't fully rested in a long time. His skin had tanned from the strenuous amounts of days lost in the jungle. He slouched over, his broad shoulders sagging under an unseen weight. His mousy-brown hair, matted and wind-swept, flapped wildly in the wind. On his face was a patchy, scruffy beard, rough and poorly groomed.
He was young, twenty at most. His faint cerulean-blue eyes looked like they belonged to someone twice his age. They were stressed, bloodshot, with dark, baggy circles from too many nights struggling to sleep. They were eyes that had seen too much.

The young man wore a set of mismatched jet-black leather armor, salvaged pieces of scavenged tactical vests, and body armor. The plates were cracked and worn, hastily patched together, and held firm by straps and buckles that creaked. Beneath the armor, his pale-yellow t-shirt faded, the color washed out from the exposure to sweat, rain, and blood. His khaki shorts, vacational, were rugged and folded as he sat on his knees in front of this helmet.

He stared ahead, still looking down at the device in his hands. His expression felt… distant, almost disconnected from everything going on around him. As his thumb traced over a button on the side of the head, it tapped rhythmically until a small blinking red light started. The signal started up again, and the eyes flared up in a faint glow.
As he took a deep breath, the young man leaned forward and began to speak. His voice was tired and hoarse like every word was painful.

"This is a distress signal for any Sector V operatives who hear me; this is Niles, signing in. I am the only survivor of what was a slaughter."

In one hand, he lifted a small, worn leather-bound school notebook. The edges were tattered, the pages moist, but it was still intact. His grip tightened on it as he continued, showing the helmet.

"We succeeded," he admitted. "But at the cost of everybody else."

He looked out toward the shore, where the corrupted ocean waves crashed.

"Mandark's ship was destroyed. All it took was one wave of his new hybrids to tear it down, and we fought hard, but it wasn't enough."

His voice faltered a little from the emotional wall he put himself up in. He stared out at the horizon, holding his breath while he fought back grief.

"I watched Jack die, held him in my arms just one last time. Before he passed."

A long silence came, the storm billowing in the background. Niles adjusted his posture as he sat on his butt, resting an elbow over his knee while he just stared.

"I miss him. He was a good man."

The helmet didn't respond. It just watched him with no comforting words, the quiet hum of the broadcast signal fighting through the ongoing storm.

"If anyone is listening," Niles said, breaking character and getting desperate. He turned to look into its eyes, curling his hands around its cheeks. "Anyone, please… just send somebody. I don't know how much longer I can take this alone."

With a final, exhausted sigh, Niles reached out and switched the helmet off. He checked the cord, confirming the signal was broadcasting, but there was no sense of relief. Just emptiness. He let the helmet fall limply into his lap, running his fingers through his hair as the storm raged on.

He leaned into the wooden post, shifting slightly to stow away from the rain, stretching out his legs. With a tired groan, he held up his last remaining pop gun: a peculiar-looking weapon that resembled a blue, popsicle-shaped toy but had saved his life more times than he cared to count. The gun's barrel was chipped and scratched, the vibrant teal-blue color dulled and scrubbed off. The barrel, shaped like a popsicle, had a faint shimmer of icy frost clinging to it, implying the capability to fire off icy bullets.
With a soft click, he slid the cartridge out and inspected it closely. There were only a few icy shots left, maybe enough to fend off a couple more creatures if they came by. Niles counted each shot, careful not to miss when taking aim. Every shot mattered now for the sake of his survival.

Beside him, stabbed into the ground, was an Aerial Slasher. It was a sleek, stiff longsword with a dull, white metal blade. The futuristic blade's edge was jagged and nicked, the navy blue blade tip and grip also weathered. Wrapped tightly around the hilt was a white sash, torn from Samurai Jack's kimono. The cloth fluttered in the wind, now worn and frayed, but it was still there, clinging like a ghost back to the past.

As Niles rested, his eyes narrowed in suspicion, sensing movement in the distance. He instinctively cocked his pop gun, staring an eye down the line of sight. Slowly, he sat up, his body tensing as he noticed a figure emerging from between the swaying palm trees.

Standing ominously in the wind, with a single hand resting on a shimmering, golden blade, was the familiar outline of a warrior. He was a twisted version of himself, eaten alive by the fusion that had consumed him. He glared angrily with a pair of stinging red eyes, glowing unnaturally. The warrior's once noble stance had become eerie, floating with each step like a puppet on strings. His initially pleasing presence there was only hatred. The green, swirling substance covered every inch of his skin. With discipline, his hair was tied in a traditional bun, oddly stable.

Niles stood slowly, his limbs aching, his body now pushing itself to respond. He felt the familiar weight of his sword as he scooped it up, slugging it over his shoulder. He clutched it tightly, narrowing at the fusion creature before him. The sick irony had hit him now more than ever.

The man he had admired, the warrior who saved his life so many times, was now assimilated into a fusion.

His heart ached as grief fell onto him, but there was no time for mourning. His finger twitched on the trigger as he kept it fixated on the fusion samurai's sight. With a heavy sigh, he stood up straight, ready to begin the fight.

The fusion of Samurai Jack stepped forward, locked on, blade raised. Niles' own eyes burned with pain as he stared back, knowing that whatever had once been Jack was gone—only the enemy remained.
Each drop of rain sizzled as it hit his skin, hissing as steam billowed off. A stinging, bubbly voice called out to him as he took a stance.

"When are you going to realize it is pointless?" he mocked, his eyes also narrowing back at him. The dark robes flapped in the wind, spreading his legs slightly in the stance. "How far must you go to see you are beyond repair?"

Niles took a deep breath, contemplating the impossible fight in front of him. Yet, with strained bravery, he spoke back. "I don't know… but as long as there's one of us left standing, I'll keep fighting for the ones I love. You did too. I learned that from you."

The fusion chuckled, the sound like glass shattering. "Yes… but I hid behind duty. I gave up everything for those around me, like you," he said, taking a slow step to the left. "Look what it has done. Lord Fuse has arrived; I know a way to ease your pain."

The survivor mimicked his step, taking a step to the left. His fingers waved over the grip of his blade, his other hand adjusting the grip on his pistol. "What's that?"

Fusion Jack shook his head, raising a hand out and gesturing toward a thrust into his chest. "End it yourself. It is the honorable thing to do."

Niles stared into his eyes, almost hypnotized. The idea of release, to finally let go of all of this, tempted him. It was only for a moment.

"No," he said firmly. "I'll never do that."

They stood facing each other, the ocean crashing violently to their left as the storm roared, the wind whipping around them. Both of them waited to see who would make the first move.

"I know you no longer care for yourself," Fusion Jack hissed, almost like pitying him. "That is a dangerous position."

The man took one last final breath, calming himself before raising his voice. "I've got little left to lose!"

Finally, they moved.

CRASH!

Two quick strikes.

Their blades met in a flash of light and fusion energy, a bolt of lightning crackling between them. The clang ran out, the force rattling through Niles' body as he barely managed to deflect the samurai's strike. Steel against corrupted fusion metal sent sparks flying.

Two more blows came at each other. Both parries sent shocks up Niles' arm, his muscles burning from the effort. The rain mixed with sweat streamed down his face, yet he didn't let it bother him. He just thought it was going to wash off the blood.

Then, he felt it. That creeping realization. This was going to be the end for him.

A chill ran down his spine as it hit him hard, choking on his breath. He refused to give in to the fear, not yet.

Fusion Jack took a step forward, smirking as he tilted his head to the side. He taunted, "I sense your fear, iron warrior. You will die alone, like all the others before you."

"At least Jack didn't!" Niles roared, fueled by rage and desperation.

Within seconds, he whipped out his pop gun from the side and aimed straight for his chest. He squeezed the trigger and shot after shot tore through him in the air. Icy blasts struck the fusion monster, mists of frost crackling as they slowed him down.

Pop! Pop! Pop! Pop!

Each one tore a streak through his bubbly torso. The fusion wavered, convulsing under the assault. Regardless, he bulwarked through it, his eyes locked on.
In a swift swipe, Fusion Jack knocked the gun out of his hand, sending it flying into the sand. The fourth shot had slowed him, but now enough.

Niles stumbled back, gasping for breath, heaving from exhaustion. His sword trembled in his grip, the consequences of struggling to sleep all those nights finally catching up to him. He barely had time to react as the fusion swung again, their blades meeting with a sharp, echoing clang. Niles struggled, though pushed back with everything he had. Jack had temporarily been weakened as the icy aftermath made him stiff, pushing him backward.

Their speed was relentless. Their swords clashed again and again, the sound of steel ringing through the storm. Each swing felt closer than the last, the two of them trading near misses in a dangerous dance of precision and desperation. Neither one of them gave a foot of movement as they both gave it their all.

Niles could feel his strength draining fast. Each blade strike was heavier and sluggish. His breath came in concerning grasps, his muscles aching with the effort to keep up. But Fusion Jack, even slowed by the freezing shots, was a living nightmare. He couldn't be pushed past.

As he raised his sword again to block, the fusion's blade crashed down with brutal strength, knocking his weapon from his hands. The sword buried itself into the sand, out of reach. Niles' body, drenched and heavy with rainwater, trembled. His face flushed red from exhaustion, and his limbs felt limp, sinking into the sand.

Fusion Jack stepped forward with an unnerving calm. The once honorable warrior stood like an executioner, staring down at him.
"You have lost your strength, boy," he mocked. "You are powerless without that armor."

With a final, powerful strike, he cast Niles aside and down onto his knees. The weight of the blade barely supported him as he collapsed. Rain soaked into his skin, the wet sand clinging to his legs as he looked up, gasping for air. Fusion Jack loomed over him, victory in his eyes, as Niles struggled to catch his breath, his mind racing for a way out. But deep down, he knew—he was running out of time.

Meanwhile, several miles away, a vehicle cut through the storm. Its engines screamed through the howling sky, blasting at near full speed. It carved across the sky, the turbulence jostling it violently as it fought to maintain altitude. The rain smacked against the windows, the barrage fought by windshield wipers. Lightning cracked in the distance, faintly lighting up the dark clouds as the storm went on around them.

Inside, two young agents sat in the cockpit, concentrating seriously. Both wore sleek, armored suits, nearly decked out in all black with a pair of industrial goggles over their eyes. The man at the center, his head bent lower over a glowing tablet, adjusted his golden goggles. His suit was also a void-black, designed for stealth. Cartoonishly, the symbol of a golden '2' was painted on his chest.

Numbuh Two, now a genius man in his own right, hunched over while his gloved hands clutched at the device tightly.

The faint voice crackled through, pushing past the static to cry its plea.

"We succeeded, but at the cost of everybody else."

The weight of the admission hit like a gut punch. The Kids Next Door operative could hear the exhaustion in his voice, but it was more than that. It was genuine despair.
He hunched forward, his grip on the tablet tightening as rain continued to pelt the S.C.A.M.P.E.R. The words were unmistakable. Niles, his old friend, was out there—alive—but barely holding on.

His thoughts were interrupted as he turned to look at one of the pilots, speaking in a heavy but stern accent. "How much farther 'till we reach the signal?!"

One of the pilots, a woman with strict professionalism, adjusted her headset. She pulled a small microphone over her mouth, reading on a small nav system. Confidently she shouted back, "About three minutes!"

Numbuh Two exhaled. Three minutes felt like a lifetime. Who knows what insidious creatures Lord Fuse sent to track that book down? It was awful enough to think that there was only one man left alone, wondering just how much longer he could survive. He was losing himself out there in the Darklands.

"C'mon, Niles…" he muttered under his breath, getting desperate despite being unable to do anything. "Please still be out there. We're comin', buddy."

Niles crawled across the sand, his body trembling and his mind spinning. Every muscle ached as he tried to climb up, his knees being sucked in by the beach. His hands gripped the sword's handle tightly as he rose, throwing it up with him. Just then, out of the corner of his eye, did he catch the sight of his pop gun half-buried in the mud, right behind the fusion. The warrior still stood tall, his katana gleaming from the raindrops.

The man knew he was running out of options and time. His instincts screamed that he was losing. But something, a deep stubborn part of him refused to give in. Maybe there was a way out, to slip out of the grasp of one of Fuse's strongest minions.

He spat into the ocean, tasting the salt mixed with blood. The mud on his blade had been washed away from the oncoming rain, replaced with a visceral green ooze from Jack's body.

Fusion Jack gripped his side, the effect of Niles' bullets slowing him but not stopping. With relentless rage, he charged forward, raising his katana high into the air.

SWISH!

The blade came down at an insane speed. A sharp, searing pain tore through Niles' arm as blood spewed out into the sand in front of him. His arm burned, the blood mixing with the fusion matter actively eating away at his skin.

"ACK!" Niles screamed, reeling his head back. But his adrenaline surged, pulling him back into the fight. Quickly he took the loss, darting past Jack and towards the pistol.

Behind him, Fusion Jack spun around and growled. A loose strand of hair flickered in the breeze as his hair grew mangled and untamed. From the depths of his gelatinous form, he screamed,
"COWARD!"

The survivor heard his relentless pursuit behind him. The fusion warrior now moved impossibly fast, his sandals swishing through the sand.
Niles spun around, raising his sword just in time to parry.

With a devastating strike, Fusion Jack shattered Niles' blade. The weapon was cut cleanly in half, the upper part of the blade spiraling upward and then into the ocean. Niles let out a panicked yelp, and instinctively shoved what remained of the blade into Jack's chest; he sent him reeling backward, collapsing on his back.

Niles staggered forward, darting to the ground. There, at the edge of his feet, was the pop gun barely visible. He yanked it up from the sand and whirled around just in time to see Jack struggling to rise.

POP!

The fifth shot rang out.

The icy blast hit him right in the shoulder, knocking him back. Still, he persisted.

Niles' hands shook as he adjusted his grip, aiming for another shot.

POP!

The sixth shot exploded into Jack's thigh, making him drop to one knee. His katana kept him upright as he groaned, flaring his crimson eyes at Niles.

He took a step forward, steadying his trembling hand as he leveled the pop gun at Jack's head. He breathed in and out, clutching his wounded army tightly at his side while he spoke up.
"It only takes one shot, fusion," his eyes narrowed, growing angrier. "How dare you take over the man I once called friend."

The fusion samurai hissed as he fixed his posture. "You think that pitiful little thing will bring me down?" He rose slowly, green fusion slowly melting from his torso. His form shimmered like water, gripping his thigh as loose fusion ooze dripped onto the stand. Yet, even injured, he wasn't afraid. He was eerily confident.

Without warning, Niles pulled the trigger, firing his last shot. The blast rang out, cutting through the storm as the icy bullet struck. Jack's sword swung up to parry it, but it was too late. The shot pierced in between his eyes.

For a split second, everything seemed to freeze. Then, the impact detonated, sending an icy mist spiraling into the air. Fusion Jack's head cracked violently, splitting apart in a grotesque spray of mist and fusion goo. The fusion warrior staggered but didn't fall. Niles could barely breathe as he watched, anticipation turning into dread.

Fusion Jack's head split sideways, exposing the gory goop inside of his shattered face. His mouth flattened and stretched, although formed a wide smile as his main face had been blown open.

"You are a brazen fool, iron warrior."

Niles trembled at his reaction, stepping back. His body shook from pain and exhaustion.

There, far in the distance, two bright white circular lights cut through the dark. It felt like a beacon of hope amidst the relentless storm, like a lifeline sent from above. Its outline became clearer as it approached, cutting through the rain with a blaring engine's roar.

A stray S.C.A.M.P.E.R. came into view, zipping straight for him.

Niles raised his arms, waving frantically despite the pain shooting through his body, his legs nearly giving out beneath him. His voice barely a rasp against the roar of the wind and crashing waves, but he screamed out anyway, "Here! Over here!"

Fusion Jack's head tilted upward, his disfigured face warping as his eyes reformed.

The S.C.A.M.P.E.R. descended, cutting through the storm like a lifeline. Its thrusters blasted away the sand beneath it as it hovered just above the shoreline. The steel door on the side slid open, releasing a powerful hiss as rain poured into the bay. Out stepped a figure, round and unmistakable, with a bright orange bazooka strapped onto his shoulder.

Numbuh Two grinned from ear to ear shouting through the downpour, "The cavalry has arrived!"

A surge of relief washed over Niles as he looked back. Even if the cut on his arm throbbed, he could care less. His strength was gone as he stumbled through the wet sand, struggling to get closer as Fusion Jack was hot on his trail.

"Hoagie!" Niles shouted, mixed between pain, happiness, and desperation.

The man bit his lower lip, steadying his aim as he centered the fusion in his scope's crosshairs. His voice was barely audible over the rain as he mumbled,
"Gotcha."

A sharp hiss cut through the air as a missile rocketed out of the barrel, trailing smoke behind it. It shot right past Niles, a streak of death aimed square at Fusion Jack. The missile hit with a deafening blast directly into Jack's chest, causing an eruption of oily black flames.
His scream was inhuman, his body twisting and writhing in agony. The form began to disintegrate, collapsing into a bubbling, oozing pile of sludge in the sand below.

Numbuh Two didn't waste a second. He lunged forward, grabbing Niles' forearm in a firm grip, and yanked him up into the S.C.A.M.P.E.R. He locked eyes with him as he felt relieved, wrapping arms around his back. "Good to see ya, Niles! You still got the book?"

Through the rain and exhaustion, Niles fumbled, reaching into his vest. He withdrew the binder, soaked and streaked with sand but intact. He gave a weak nod, gasping to breathe.

"Gosh, good thing we got here when we did! Pilots, get us outta here! Back to Sector V, now!" Two's voice rang out, commanding above the storm as he slammed the side door shut.

Niles collapsed onto the seat where Two had been. His head rolled to the side, his empty pop gun slipping from his hand and collapsing onto the floor.

Two's grin faltered. "Uh oh."
He quickly grew worried as he tossed his bazooka aside. Quickly, he hurried to Niles, snatching a med kit from the wall as he looked over his injuries. He shouted through the turbulence, "Keep her steady! I'm, not losing another agent today!"

Niles weakly smiled through his exhaustion. He reached a bloodied hand up, resting it on Two's shoulder. "It's good to see you again, Hoagie."

Numbuh Two, hands fumbling to get the unraveled bandages, paused for a brief second. He spoke reassuringly, "Good to see you too, Niles. Stay with me, buddy. We're gonna get ya somewhere safe."

The man nodded, but his strength faded. His body slouched against the seat, eyelids fluttering closed as he fell backward.

Numbuh Two worked with urgency, his gloved hands already slick with blood. He wrapped the bandages tightly around Niles' arm, applying pressure to the wound. His fingers pressed against Niles' wrist, feeling for a pulse.

"C'mon, c'mon..." he muttered under his breath. The faint pulse was there, and he sighed. Niles was stable, for now, but he wasn't out of danger. He quickly searched for more supplies, checking for more injuries.

"Pilots, get Dexter on the line! Now!" Numbuh Two's voice cut through the cockpit. One of the pilots gave a sharp thumbs-up and began working the terminal, swiftly navigating the system.

Within seconds, a small projector on the floor flickered to life. The digital projection of a figure coming into focus. But Numbuh Two wasn't done yet. He leaned over Niles, rapidly wrapping more bandages into place as the scientist appeared.

Adjusting his fiery ginger hair, he waved a swipe of the hand. The young man seemed just as pretentious as ever, eyebrows raised as he leaned in. He was nearly judging Numbuh Two's effort, impatiently frowning.

"Hogarth? Vat is it?" Dexter's thick accent cut through the ship, voice dripping with annoyance.

Two turned his head slightly, still pressing down on Niles' bandaged wounds with an awkward smile. "Uhh, hey Dexter! Got some good news... and some bad news."

"Vat is it? Out vith it!" Dexter snapped, folding his arms. He seemed irritated by the lack of upfront information. "I am on the cusp of something big here."

The guy tried to keep calm as he felt Niles' pulse under his fingers, "We got the book! We're on our way back now–I'm with Niles, but we're gonna need some serious help for him!"

"I see," Dexter began, calculated as he nodded. His fingers intertwined behind his back as his eyes widened in surprise, growing more concerned as the moments went by. "Bring him directly to the medical bay. Then come to me immediately vith the book. There is much work to do and very little time."

Numbuh Two held up an "OK" sign with his free hand, tensely nodding. "On it, Dex. We'll be there soon."

After he quickly nodded, Dexter's hologram faded.
Two turned his attention back to Niles, who was barely hanging on, his breathing shallow. Gently, he helped ease him into a more comfortable position on the seats, his hand resting on Niles' shoulder in a firm but comforting grip. He could feel the tension in his friend's body, the toll that this entire mission had taken.

Rest easy, pal," Numbuh Two said softly, determined to get him to safely. He squeezed his shoulder reassuringly, giving a serious look.

"We're gonna put an end to all of this soon. I promise."

As I write this now, it's 4/17/24 and so far I've published around 13 chapters in total.
Here we're introduced to our protagonist throughout the entire story: Niles. Given with how the Future is in the game, depicting it as a darker and gritty setting I think fits the narrative quite a lot. The Darklands (for those who don't know) is the higher-level areas of the game, filled with all sorts of nasty monsters. The Forsaken Valley is an entrance point, specifically where our hero was stationed prior to the demise of his units.
This whole concept for an intro was rewritten from my old high school days, giving us an insight into his life and how the state of things are now. For some fun context, Rick was an OC idea from someone else I knew a while back in an old forum group I used to spend time in. Later on in the story, his backstory and insight will be explained.
This is a setting where the characters are generally much older, since the war with Fuse took quite a long time before earth lost. You can expect the future to have much older characters, since in this story nearly everyone is around eighteen.
As much as I enjoy the PG violence of the game, this is written for a mature audience, so I won't be holding back much on the description of wounds and damage much. I think it adds a sense of urgency and drama rather than just being knocked out or being bruised.

Despite the fun Cartoon Network aesthetic, I'm diving into a more serious and emotionally driven story. There's a range of things from strong violence, to deep characterization and eventually later on in the line some nice romance. Of course, there is always death. In a world full of aliens, mechs, superheroes and monsters, mortality is a precious thing.
Thank you for reading! :)

10/3/24
Chapter rewrite. Going back to the first chapter, man is the future in game is depressing. I promise you guys it'll get nicer! Keep going!