The sun shined on a brilliant day.
By now it was approximately seven in the evening, the brightest golden hour across Sector V. The towering Tree House overlooked a vast, lively celebration down near its roots. The usually quiet suburban streets (or otherwise busy with air traffic) had been birthed with life, filled with people throughout the houses, yards, and open fields. Every single one down below was basking in not only the warmth of the sun but the celebration.
Bundles of people were gathered around different feasts spread all across the area, ranging from the usually busy hangers and expanding cafeterias to the grills and picnic tables set up outside. The air was filled with the smell of cooked meat and grilled vegetables, and the aroma of pies, cakes, and other sweet treats as a desert. Each group had its own setup from homemade meals to cakes and food bought from local stores and grocers. Families, friends, and fighters all shared moments together with the sounds of laughter and clinking plastic cups.
The hangars that once housed S.C.A.M.P.E.R.s had temporarily been turned into banquet halls, filled with long tables covered in trays of food and large jugs of lemonade and punch. A majority of the citizens who were there consisted of social workers, builders, mechanics, pilots, and so on. Having been the backbone of operations for the sector as a whole, they took pride in their work while they shared food and drink with one another. While they did so, nearly everyone from Mung Daal's Catering was on their feet rushing between the different halls to keep the food supplied. A large deal of both soldiers and citizens volunteered to help organize the ordeal, delivering chunky pots of cooked meals and pitchers of drinks to the various places.
Within large tubs of ice, dozens of drinks were passed around, sweating profusely as the grass below was dew-dropped by it. Conversations were passed all around from old friends catching up, strangers becoming friends, and memories of battle all to positive hopes of the future of this conflict. Dance parties had broken out in the shade of trees as speakers blasted their own tunes, equally spread out among the suburbs. People both young and old raced across fields, ranging from games of tag and capture the flag to impromptu games of football and soccer. The screaming of call signs and orders fought over the music, showing just how invested they were in it.
Across the grass, a thrower, being a tall, broad-shouldered teenager in a classic jock get-up stood on one side of the makeshift field. He took a deep breath as he rubbed on his fat, thick nose, reeling the football back in his hand, and hurled with a powerful arm. "Go long!"
On the other side, bodies scrambled and jostled to slow the titan down. None of them stood a chance when a certain slick-haired figure burst through the fray. Flexing his muscles as he bulldozed past a cluster of soldiers, he planted himself right where the ball was destined to land. He fumbled a little bit before cradling it in his arms, jogging into the endzone, and striking a signature pose.
"Oh yeah!" he shouted proudly. He pumped his chest and gave a knowing wink to no one in particular. Some of the bystanders in the crowd watching the game cheered him on while he basked in the attention selfishly. "Thank you! There's plenty more where that came from! Hah! Hoah!"
A short distance away, under the shade of an oak tree, two familiar figures sat watching the game unfold. Under his void black cloak, Grim clutched his scythe tightly while leaning against the wall. In his hand was a red plastic cup, unsatisfied with its contents. "I'm pretty sure dat guy crossed the line five feet over. What kinda game is dis anyways?"
Beside the grim reaper, a high school girl was sitting up against the tree, resting her elbows on her knees with a deadpan look. Protecting her ghostly white skin was a light blouse, a summer skirt, and flip-flops. Were it not for the precious shade of the leaves, she would've cooked alive. Behind her disgruntled eyes were a pair of dark sunglasses, also sipping on a plastic cup with a hint of boredom.
"Eh, I've seen better," she spoke in distaste. "Bravo's got butterfingers."
The celebration buzzed around them, but Mandy remained unfazed, unimpressed by the antics unfolding in front of her. To her, this was just another day in a world full of chaos, victory, and Johnny Bravo's constant need for female attention.
Billy came barreling towards Grim and Mandy like an excited puppy, drenched in sweat as his clothes stuck to him. His face was a bright red, breathing coming out in heavy gasps for air. He leaned forward, hands on his knees while panting hard.
"Did you guys see that?!" he said, drops of sweat dripping from his chin. Little hairs from a recent shave were starting to grow out, showing he was getting some facial hair. "That was my longest throw yet!"
Grim and Mandy were still unamused. Mandy barely gave him a glance from behind the sunglasses while she took another sip. To him, he seemed just as interesting as grass growing beneath her feet. As for Grim, he rolled his eye sockets, shaking his skull in tiring acknowledgment of how much energy this boy had.
Before either of them could respond, a loud, booming voice billowed from the other side of the field.
"OI! I WANT ANOTHER GO AT IT!"
The ground trembled beneath heavy footsteps as a tall, broad-shouldered man stomped forward. He was a giant, his red tartan sash billowing in the summer breeze. A few streaks of gray plagued his otherwise ginger hair, though made him even more imposing. His thick beard was like pricky wool, a fierce grin with one good eye blazing in confidence. The other hid behind a worn-out eyepatch.
His entire presence said he was ready for battle, playing a friendly game of football with a massive broadsword hanging at his side.
There was nothing about the Scotsman that was soft, standing like a storm preparing to roll in. "I'LL TAKE ON THE ENTIRE LOT OF YA BY MAHSELF!"
Grim grinned a little bit upon hearing that decree, leaning forward with his bony hand tight on the scythe. In anticipation of the oncoming fight about to start, he spoke delightfully, "Ohoho! Well now, things are about to get interesting!"
Mandy raised an eyebrow behind her glasses, turning to look at the massive man. "Interesting, or incredibly stupid. Hard to tell with this bunch."
"This is gonna be awesome!" Billy squealed, pumping both fists in the air. He was completely oblivious to the tension brewing, and some of the fearful soldiers tapping out upon witnessing the Scotsman prepare himself. He wiped some of the sweat from his forehead and charged back into the fray. "I'll take you on Mr. Scotsman! Bet you can't outrun me!"
From out of nowhere, a strange, squat creature appeared beside Billy. The bizarre creature resembled a fusion spawn, surprisingly friendly to him. It continued to hop beside him, its wide red eyes looking at the celebrations while its underbelly splat in the grass like a frog. It seemed both ridiculous looking yet also unnerving.
Immediately, the Scotsman widened his eyes and pointed at the creature. "BILLEH! WATCH OUT! SPAWN!"
He already reached for the massive broadsword, and within an instant, five people nearby quickdrawed their pistols, scatterguns, and rifles, aiming them directly at the little creature.
"Woah, woah!" Billy shouted, leaping dramatically in front of it. He raised his hands in the air as he screamed, "It's just Runty, guys! Don't shoot!"
The crowd hesitated, though lowered their weapons at the name.
"We were on television!" he continued with a dumb, oblivious grin on his face. "We're friends, see? Totally harmless, man!"
He patted Runty on the head, completely unharmed.
Its grin grew wider, nuzzling into his hand in satisfaction.
The Scotsman huffed, letting go of the sword's hilt. "Aye, we'll I'll be keepin' my eye on the little bugger. Could be a fusion spy.."
In the center of a park courtyard, a small crowd had gathered around. They were all focused on a lone figure standing calmly with a katana at his side. Samurai Jack, serene like usual, waited eagerly at the group of onlookers.
An operative from the Kids Next Door, a younger kid, stood beside him with a basket of assorted fruit. He raised his arm high, tossing a handful of them out and into the air. The crowd all held their breath as they watched them fly, eager to see what was about to happen next.
SWISH! SWING! SWOOSH!
In the blink of an eye, Jack's blade pierced the air. He moved so fast that the crowd barely had enough time to react, the edge of his katana slicing cleanly through each piece of fruit before they even began to fall.
As the halved fruits fell to the ground in perfect slices, the crowd erupted in applause and cheers. Jack, ever the humble man, sheathed his blade and bowed deeply to the audience. The operatives clapped and hollered, some even tossing their hats into the air in admiration of the samurai's unparalleled skill.
Meanwhile, down towards the base of the enormous tree house, a group of candy pirates had set up shop near a group of Urban Rangers. Between them, barrels of candy had been cracked open, and the two groups were sharing the sweet bounty with a weird truce.
Stickybeard, the notorious pirate captain, stood at the forefront of his crew. He grinned widely as he handed out lollipops and candy canes to the eager Urban Rangers, who accepted the treats with a mix of delight and surprise at his generosity.
As he handed over another small bag of candy to an even younger boy, the older man turned to look down at the prideful woman standing in front of him. She was easily recognizable by the sleek design of her armored outfit, her frizzy black hair giving her a sense of recognizable angst.
She eyed him with a raised eyebrow, clearly taken aback by his presence.
"Well, if it isn't the infamous Stickybeard and his beatneck pirates," Cree remarked, crossing her arms with a playful smirk. "Didn't think you were the sharing type."
"Aye, Cree," Stickybeard responded, his voice carrying a mix of amusement and curiosity. "Didn't think I'd see the likes of ye among the Kids Next Door. Thought ye'd be more the lonesome type, eh?"
She shrugged nonchalantly, letting out a sigh as she narrowed her eyes. "Guess we're both full of surprises today, huh? I made a deal with these dorks for now; got me a sweet spot hooked up at the jungle outpost. Heard Father was gonna be around there too, so… that'll be interesting."
"Cree Lincoln? The retired teenager playin' around with Sector V?" The pirate captain widened his eye, scratching the side of his head with his cane. "Either I'm seein' things or I'm gettin' too old fer this gig."
She made a motion with her hand as she judgmentally asked, "What's with all this then, huh? Never thought I'd see you sharing your precious candy with anyone!"
Stickybeard let out a hearty laugh, his jelly belly bouncing as he heaved. "Arrr, there's plenty to go around today. Made a sugary-sweet deal like yerself with them kids, and even a ruthless captain like myself knows when it's time to make a truce and enjoy the spoils, aye?"
Cree chuckled, shaking her head at his antics and just went with it. "Fair enough, old man. Now, gimmie one of them sour taffies."
"HAH! There's plenty fer ye!" he shouted out loud, digging into a barrel and scooping her up a hefty bag.
The girl took it from his hand and grinned like a cool cat, giving him a two-finger salute before strolling away from the shop stand. As she peaked inside to inspect the goods, she witnessed the glittering wrappers shine like gold in the evening sunlight. Faintly, as she closed the bag, up, she could sense a warm feeling in her heart as she walked away.
It had been a long time since she had a sour taffy, ever since she was a kid. She wondered how it would taste now.
The celebration had spread throughout the entire sector, and even Foster's Home had found a spot to enjoy themselves. A basketball court was currently thriving with intense energy as a friendly game was in the process, drawing the attention of dozens of spectators.
On the sidelines, Frankie and Coco sat on a bench, cheering and clapping along with the crowd. The home's caretaker had found herself a pom-pom to wave, while Coco just flapped her wings and hopped around to show her enjoyment of the action.
On the court, Mac, Bloo, Wilt, and Eudardo were deep in a heated game of two-on-two on a half court. The ball was passed back and forth rapidly between Mac and Bloo, their teamwork finally realized from not just their deep friendship, but many days of practice. Eduardo, despite his imposing size, proved to be quite athletic. He used his body as a block while Wilt played with a carefree attitude, allowing everyone to enjoy the game (knowing he'd dunk on all three if he had the chance).
Bloo saw an opening as the ball was passed back to him. With a determined look, he hyped himself up as he rushed forward. "And Bloo has the ball! He shoots.."
He took the shot, the ball spiraling in the air in a perfect trajectory.
Thunk!
The ball fell so satisfyingly through.
"He scores!"
Bloo immediately went into a victory fist pump, breaking down into the goofiest dance imaginable. The crowd around him laughed and cheered, some making fun of his dance while others ushered him to keep going.
As the imaginary friend kept up his dance, the basketball bounced gently across the court, stopping at WIlt's feet. He picked it up with his good hand, turning to look at Bloo with satisfaction, then over to Mac.
The young teen had a wide smile on his face, having noticed that Wilt had intentionally held back to give Bloo the moment. He locked eyes with Wilt, mouthing a heartfelt "Thank you" with true gratitude.
Though Wilt couldn't blink with his other eye, he gave Mac a reassuring wink with his one good eye, trying to get the message across. He then raised a hand for a thumbs up, signaling his enjoyment of making such a memorable moment with them.
The other two joined in the applause from the sidelines, Coco letting out a particularly enthusiastic "Coco! Coco!"
Frankie, her smile as wide as ever, shouted, "Way to go, Bloo! Nice teamwork, you guys!"
Eduardo, despite being on the opposing team, couldn't help but smile too, his gentle nature shining through. "Good job, Bloo!" He strolled over and patted him playfully on the back.
Further down the line, past the game and laughter, more celebration was held at one of the long banquet tables. Sector V all sat together, surrounded by familiar faces from the Kids Next Door. All of their trays were packed with food, and ice-cold drinks snatched from coolers and passed around.
Numbuh One leaned back in his seat, arms crossed, watching with a small smile as all of his comrades joked around with a few of the veterans. Numbuh Three waved excitedly as more familiar faces passed by, her carefree laugh loud and welcoming.
"Hey, you've gotta try this!" Numbuh Four said, pushing a plate of loaded nachos toward Two sitting across from him. "Best thing I've had all day!"
Numbuh Two chuckled, gladly snagging another piece of epic cuisine. "Well of course it is! Any party at Sector V has the best food, hands down!"
From the front doors came three familiar figures making their way towards the tables, led by an unmistakable silhouette. Adjusting his dark beanie, his eyes looked around the room wearily. A hand adjusted his buttoned-up blue shirt neatly tucked in his jeans, an honest attempt at dressing semi-formally. Despite some of the wrinkles on his shirt, he seemed to fit in well enough.
Beside him, a lumbering and taller man strolled beside him with a strange, wide grin on his face. His green jacket flapped as he waved over at Numbuh Three, having shown no signs of dressing up whatsoever. Everyone recognized him from his broad shoulders with each step, one hand rubbing on the buzz cut over his head.
Finally, close behind, a shorter and more compact guy was the escort. His oversized mustard shirt had been tucked in, the iconic red stripe running diagonally across it. His hair was slicked back with a fresh coat of grease, swagger in full force with a smirk plastered on the sights of the food and talk.
"Well, if it isn't the famous Sector V! It's good to see you all!" spoke Double D, still sounding slightly intellectual as always.
"Hiya, friends!" Ed boomed, giving an excited wave.
Eddy marched right up and extended his fist toward Numbuh Four. The operative gladly gave him a confident punch, fist-bumping him. "Sup, guys?"
"So is this the place the guides were supposed to meet at?" Edd asked curiously, darting to look at the various parties in the room.
Numbuh One gave a small nod. "Precisely. You've come to the right place; please, treat yourself to some dinner."
"Thank you, Number One!" Double D chuckled softly, tugging at his collar. "Well, it's certainly an honor to be here! I must say, the scale of this banquet is quite impressive."
Numbuh Two smiled as Ed plopped down beside him, the entire table shaking from his sheer weight. Nudging at his arm, he said, "You guys made it just in time. The food's top-notch, so don't miss the next course!"
Ed widened his eyes, his imagination already going ham. "Top-notch food?! I LOVE food!"
"Settle down, Ed," Double D gestured easily with a light chuckle. "We have to be professional here."
His smile went away as he gave a serious look, turning to his friend. With a stiff salute, he shouted, "Yes, commander!"
"Go on and get yourselves some food before it gets cold," Numbuh Five wiped her mouth with a napkin, gesturing toward the line behind them.
There wasn't even the need to say it twice, the three already got settled in the banquet hall. Double D claimed his own table, and immediately some of his most loyal followers joined him dressed in the traditional Urban Rangers' garbs. Their presence started building up the energy of this room, and shortly afterward came three more figures with an intense confidence.
The first was an easily recognizable, chubby, broad frame. He was casual, laid-back with a wide grin on his face. Barely holding onto his big belly was a white button-up shirt, tucked in a pair of slightly worn jeans stained with grease and oil, and a fresh new pair of red kicks to go with it. His dirty blonde hair had been slicked back, some of the fuzz on his face almost resembling a goatee. Despite the slightly older appearance, his carefree attitude and easy grin stayed the same.
"Lance, did I forget to tell you that I've never got to see you in action? I heard Manus can cause some serious damage!"
Beside him was a sharp, clean-cut young man with a rather serious look. He was dressed to impress, wearing a white dress shirt, navy blue tie, ink-black dress pants, and dress shoes. His once boyish face was a little bit more chiseled, adding to his overall brooding look. He adjusted his posture so his shoulders were a little broader, showing how far he'd come since this all started. Lance's gaze remained tense, but he was less rigid, and more relaxed than in his younger years.
"Thanks, I appreciate it. It's seen some upgrades since last we met," He paused, glancing at Coop with a challenging look in his eye. "We'll have to spar sometime–see how those upgrades hold up against Megas."
Coop chuckled, the idea already appealing. "You're on, man. Just don't get upset when Megas leaves ya in the dust. You'll be scraping up the parts when we're done!" Of course, he didn't actually mean to tear him apart. He was just excited for another challenge just to show off his beloved robot.
Trailing behind the two of them, the final figure of the trio was easily recognizable from his iconic lime-green and white-stripe jacket with the number 'ten' on the right. He hadn't dressed up at all, simply wearing a plain black t-shirt, blue jeans, and Converse-style shoes. His honest attempt was to comb his hair back even more than it already was, yet he still didn't really change his looks at all. No longer brash and cocky, he was quieter, more reserved. He had a stoic expression, hinting at the responsibilities he carried. The Omnitrix still stayed the same, its presence demanding respect even if it couldn't speak.
Meanwhile, Ben remained quiet, his eyes scanning the room, taking in the atmosphere without saying much. Though, at the mention of a friendly spar, he nodded in acknowledgment. "Man, that'd be pretty sweet to watch. Don't count on me to jump into the action if it gets too rough, though."
The trio–Coop, Lance, and Ben–made their way across the banquet, weaving through the crowd of people. All of them would wave or flash a smile to people who greeted them, already showered in friendly attitudes and warm welcomes. As they approached Sector V's table, the members of the team looked up, recognizing the newcomers immediately.
Numbuh One stood up first, his stern expression softening into a grin as he extended a fist. "Good to see you all. Welcome to the guide's banquet hall!"
Ben fistbumped him, smirking at the corner of his mouth. "You too, Nigel. Is this the right place to be?"
"One hundred percent," Numbuh One replied, nodding toward the food line. "Go ahead and grab a ticket voucher."
Ben nodded before stepping aside, letting the other two greet Sector V's leader. Coop towered over him as he gave One a hearty fist bump. "Hey, Nigel! Man, you guys sure know how to throw a party."
"Good to have you here, Coop," One replied with a genuine warmth.
Finally, Lance stepped forward, offering a silent handshake. Numbuh One took it firmly, giving a stern nod.
"So, what's all the celebration about exactly?" Coop asked as they all got settled in, unable to help himself. "I was just out in the junkyard when I got a message saying something 'bout a big party?"
Numbuh Four was eager to share, leaning forward in his seat with a proud smile. "Two of Fuse's generals got taken down, partially thanks to us! It's been a rough fight, so we're all just blowin' off some steam, ya know?"
Numbuh Two, trying to be insightful, chimed in with a slightly more strategic take on it, hoping to impress Megas' driver. "It's to boost morale, to keep everyone's spirits up so we can keep fighting strong."
Coop shot over at Hoagie, grinning wider. "If morale involves good food, I'm totally on board. Who's in charge of the catering?"
"Oh, Mung Daal's," Two answered with a smile.
The man pumped his fist in the air, "Ye-es! Those guys never miss!"
Everyone in the group chuckled at his reaction, the tension forgotten with this light-hearted banter. On the sidelines, Ben kept a serious look on his face as he turned back to Numbuh One. "So, Nigel," he began, lowering his voice. "I heard you took over as the new coordinator for Sector V. That true?"
One nodded, adjusting his sunglasses. "Yes. After this celebration, it's straight back to work. We've got to keep the pressure on Fuse and make sure we're ready for whatever he throws at us next!"
Ben's eyes narrowed slightly as he looked around, leaning in almost conspiratorial. "That's good to hear. If you're wondering where I've been, I've found out about some… interesting stuff. I've got a hunch that a certain squid-faced jerk is up to something, so we'll need to keep our guard up."
He shot him a serious look, staring Ben in the eyes. "Thank you for the heads up. I'll make sure to schedule a meeting as soon as possible."
"No problem," Ben said, looking over to the group. He crossed his arms, enjoying the sights of everyone's happiness. He smiled. "We should probably save all the serious talk for then, anyway. I don't want to ruin the mood, and… I'm starving."
One smirked, gesturing with a thumb and putting a hand on his hip. "The food line's that way."
Meanwhile, over at the table, Numbuh Three turned to look up at Lance with a bright smile on her face. "Hey, Lance! How's Ilana doing? I haven't seen her in forever!"
Lance's serious expression softened as he shoved his hands in his pockets, looking down at her. "Oh, you know, just her usual self. Thanks for asking, Kuki," he replied, taking note of the group's energy. "How about you guys? How's the team holding up?"
Three beamed, "We're doing great!"
While the girl was busy munching on a killer deck of nachos, Numbuh Five gave a thumbs up mid-chewing. "No complaints here, man."
Four leaned back in his chair with a proud smirk, feet kicked up on the table with his hands behind his back. "Glad to see you back in action, man!"
For once, the brooding man grinned a little bit. He nodded appreciatively as he replied, "Same to you. It's good to be back here again."
After the pleasantries were exchanged, the three older heroes began to make their way toward the food line.
"Let's get something to eat before the real fun starts," Coop suggested, his enthusiasm growing at the sight of the feast. "I'm about to tear it all up!"
"Sounds like a plan," Ben agreed, following Coop's lead, while Lance gave a final nod to Sector V before heading off with them.
Up until this moment, the energy of the hall suddenly came to a halt. A trio of familiar and infamous figures entered, surrounded by an escort of monkey minions and a handful of earth's operatives. The crowd's chatter hushed slightly, recognizing the arrival of none other than some of Townsville's most notorious villains. Despite the uneasy truce, their presence was enough to put everyone's celebration on edge.
Dressed in his signature purple cape and oversized helmet, the small monkey led the group with intense swagger. His eyes surveyed the room as if calculating every possible scenario this could turn out to be. Besides him, a devilishly red-skinned creature was a polar opposite. He had an eerie smile with sinister claws, oddly covered up in a frilly pink tutu and knee-high boots. Lastly came a tall, brutish creature with bright pink fur and blue overalls, stomping into the ground loudly.
As they approached Sector V's table, the small crowd of minions buzzed around the man in the middle, darting between him and Numbuh One as he was about to speak. Mojo Jojo stopped just in front of him with an intense look on his face, inspecting him like he was some sort of lab experiment. Then, with a dramatic finale, he smacked his hands behind his back.
"Aha!" He began, raising his voice stiffly. "So, the famed Numbuh One has become the leader of Sector V! You, who stand at the forefront of this… this assembly of so-called heroes and operatives, in a gathering of festivity and celebration!"
Before anyone could go on, he just went on into a rant. "I, Mojo Jojo, was in the midst of devising a masterful, ingenious plan–a plan so devious and diabolical, that it would have leveled the entirety of Townsville! Yes, yes, I was planning and plotting, determined to ensure that Townsville, that city, would have fallen. For I, Mojo Jojo would have made it fall!"
Numbuh One blinked, crossing his arms. "..."
But then, he stopped. The hatred in his eyes eased, and he deflated a little bit. Holding his little monkey fist up to his mouth, he cleared his throat and continued civilly. "However… due to the circumstances, and the invitation extended to me by you and your… organization, I have decided to partake in this, uh, celebration. Yes, I have arrived to… enjoy the festivities, as is expected, because it would be rude–yes, rude not to!"
There was an awkward pause as Mojo Jojo finished, the operatives and guides waiting to see if he would continue. However, the rant stopped, and One sighed internally in relief that it was finally done. "Mojo Jojo, if you don't mind me asking, why does it seem like you're… flattered? I mean, it's not like you're usually one for celebrations."
The monkey huffed, crossing his arms defensively. "Flattered? Hah! Mojo Jojo is not flattered! Mojo Jojo does not get flattered by such trivial things as invitations or parties or celebrations!" He paused, lowering in a begrudging tone. "But… it has been a long time since I was invited to a party. The last time was… well, it has been too long."
The lingering moment of silence said enough for him. Even someone as scheming and prideful as Mojo had moments of loneliness, as it was everyone's troublesome friend.
Numbuh One, sensing an opportunity to extend an olive branch, gave a small nod and gestured toward the banquet tables. "Well, in that case, you're welcome to grab some food and set up a table for you and your… team. We've got plenty to go around, and I'm sure you'll find something to your liking."
Mojo Jojo seemed surprised yet suspicious, although he didn't argue. He acknowledged him with a slight nod, then led his entourage toward the food line. As for the monkey minions, they all chattered excitedly at the glimpse of a wonderful buffet just waiting for them.
As the chimp departed, Him and Fuzzy Lumpkins stepped forward toward the group next. Him floated gracefully, his disturbing smile making everyone uncomfortable. "My, my, what a delightful little party we have here. So many young, bright faces… just ripe for the taking! "
On the other hand, his fuzzy friend scratched his head as he looked around in the room. He seemed a little bit confused as he spoke out, "Ain't never been to no fancy shindig like this'in before. But if there's food, I reckon I'll stick around."
Sector V acknowledged the two villains with awkward nods and forced smiles, everyone clearly on edge but trying to stay polite. Numbuh Five gave a thumbs-up in response to Him's comment, though she didn't say anything, while Numbuh Four leaned back in his chair, trying to appear nonchalant despite his obvious discomfort.
"Good to see you too," One said diplomatically to the two. "Feel free to join the line with Mojo Jojo. There's plenty of food for everyone."
On that note, the three made their way over to a table to claim for their own, their presence causing a shift in the environment. Several other guests watched them wearily, but the festivities resumed as planned.
Once they were all away, all of Sector V visibly relaxed. Their shoulders dropped in unison as they let out sighs of relief. "Glad they're not sticking around for long," Two muttered.
"Tell me about it," Three added, her carefree attitude returned as she looked over at the trio. "That was intense!"
Numbuh One remained stoic, though he shared the sentiment. "Let's just hope they stay occupied with the food."
After a few more minutes of waiting, the final group came through the front doors. All of the lively chatter died down a little bit as all eyes turned to the entrance. Through the doorway stepped Dexter, Blossom, Buttercup, Bubbles, and Niles, taking up all the entrance. Sector V, stationed near the hall's center, nearly jumped out of their seats.
"Hey, look who it is!" Two exclaimed, lighting up with joy.
Four bounced in his seat, "Yo!"
The scientist and the Powerpuff Girls couldn't contain their enthusiasm. Sector V shot up from their seats, rushing over to greet their allies. Hugs were exchanged, handshakes were firm, and fist-bumps were punched as the groups happily reunited.
"Blossom, it's so good to see you again!" Numbuh Three squealed, pulling Blossom into a tight hug.
She laughed, returning the embrace warmly. "Likewise, Kuki!"
Bubbles followed, giving Numbuh Two a big hug with a playful grin. "Hope you've been keeping things lively while we were gone!"
"You betcha!" Numbuh Two replied with a broad smile. "While you've been in Townsville cleaning up messes, I've been cleaning up the morale! The work never stops, you know?"
Buttercup gave Numbuh Five a high-five, smirking. "Good to see you guys holding it down."
"You know we got this covered," Five said with a chill nod. "But it's always better with you girls around."
Dexter, ever the stoic genius, extended a hand to Numbuh One. "Good to see you again, Nigel. I trust all has been... efficient?"
"Absolutely, Dexter," Numbuh One replied, gripping his hand firmly. "Just another day in the life of Sector V."
The room shifted as the sound of clomping armor echoed, drawing all eyes to Niles as he entered. His hair, tied back in a man-bun, showcasing just a glimpse of what he had been through. The atmosphere shifted, everyone taking in the sight of their transformed friend.
Nigel was the first to step forward, offering his hand. "Welcome back, Niles. It's good to have you here."
Niles met his gaze, a smile breaking through his serious expression. "Thank you, Nigel. It's good to be here."
The handshake lingered, a silent acknowledgment of one another. As they released, the others gathered around, eager to greet him.
Numbuh Four was the first to speak up, a grin on his face. "Well, there's the trooper who took one for the team!"
He chuckled, the tension easing. "Wouldn't miss it for the world."
Numbuh Two stepped up next, his usual grin even wider as he clasped Niles' hand. "How are you feeling, buddy? We were all rooting for you."
Niles, a bit overwhelmed by the support, smiled warmly. "I'm doing... better," he said, his voice steady but with a hint of fatigue. "Still adjusting, but it's good to see all of you."
Four gave him a solid smack on his metal shoulder, looking up at him. "Good to have you back in one piece, mate. We were gettin' worried you might not pull through."
"I'm glad you're okay!" Three bounced over next, wrapping him in a tight hug over the armor.
He chuckled softly, returning the hug with one arm so as not to squish her. "I missed you guys too!" He was clearly overwhelmed by all of the sudden attention at once but was happy nonetheless.
As Five was the last one to step forward, the others quickly got silent. She placed a hand on her hip and tilted her head to the side, clicking her tongue. "You know, after seein' that stunt you pulled the other day, I thought you were one crazy sucka. You still are, you know dat? You just a little braver than Numbuh Five thought; good to see ya."
He stared at Five while she spoke, nodding appreciatively at her comment. "I appreciate it."
Numbuh One, who had been observing the exchanges with a small, satisfied smile, finally crossed his arms and leaned in closer to Blossom and Buttercup. "So, how's he really doing?"
Blossom exchanged a glance with Buttercup before answering. "He's turned out well, Nigel," she said, her voice steady. "The operation was a success, but he's going to need some time to fully recover. No heroics for a while, I'm afraid."
Her sister nodded in agreement, tilting her head. "Yeah, he's been through some stuff. He'll need to lay low and focus on getting back to one hundred percent!"
One raised an eyebrow, a thought coming to mind. "Alright, so no heroics. However, that brings up a question I've been meaning to ask. What about his name? Has he decided on one yet?"
The red Powerpuff turned toward Niles, still in the middle of hugging Kuki. She called out, "Niles!"
He released the girl instantly, looking at Blossom with a curious expression. "Yeah?"
Blossom gestured for him to join the conversation, "Nigel wants to know if you came up with a superhero name yet."
Niles took a moment as he stomped forward, looking between all of them. "Yeah, I have. I think… I'll be sticking with 'Iron Warrior' for now. That's all I can think of."
One nodded, grinning a little bit. "I like it; it's short, and straight to the point. Easy to remember."
"Once he's ready, I'll be taking over training again," Blossom leaned in a little closer, eyeing him up and down. "Buttercup did fine in helping him unlock his potential, but now it's time to hone in on his skills."
Niles looked her in the eyes with a determined smile. "Training again with you? I wouldn't have it any other way."
Although most didn't notice it, Buttercup put both hands on her hips and raised an eyebrow with a dead-eye smirk at him.
He stayed in line, chuckling at her response. He knew he was going to regret saying that later.
"About time you girls showed up! When Mojo and his squad crashed the place, I thought this party was gonna drop dead."
The group turned to see Ben standing there with a plate of food in his hand, and a friendly smile on his face.
"Ben!" Bubbles exclaimed, rushing over to give him a big hug. Ben chuckled, balancing the plate carefully as he held onto her back.
"How're you all doing?" he asked when she finally let go, looking at the group.
Buttercup smiled widely as she replied, "We're doing great! Good to see ya, Tennyson."
Ben turned to look at Niles, eyeing him up and down with a curious yet approving look. With a teasing tone, he said, "And is this the new guy that's been giving you girls all this trouble?"
Niles nodded, stepping forward to introduce himself. "I always saw you at the meetings but never got to talk. I'm Niles; good to meet you."
Ben extended his hand, shaking his gauntlet firmly. He eyed his suit again as he said, "Good to meet you too. Ben Tennyson. Nice suit. Looks like it's seen some action."
"Thanks," Niles replied appreciatively. "I've always looked up to you in the old timeline, and I still do. It's good to see you again, really."
Ben paused, taking in Niles' words with a thoughtful look. He seemed to be piecing together some complex puzzle from behind Niles' eyes. Finally, he spoke with a grin, "Maybe we could team up some time. I'll show you the ropes on how to be an epic crime-fighting hero like me. Or, in this case, slime-fighting."
"Nice one!" Two reached out and high-fived him.
"That would be great, but… Dexter's my guide for now," Niles spoke taken aback, though nodded respectfully.
At the mention of his name, Dexter, who had been quietly observing the exchange, chimed in with a smirk. "Seems like I've got another one in the books, Ben. It sounds like you need to catch up!"
"Looks like it, Dexter. But don't think I'm not keeping an eye on this one," Ben grinned, shaking his head slightly. "Come to think of it, you sure you want a guide like that who fumbled so hard in his own lab?"
The scientist gasped as he fell back a little bit, widening his eyes. His face turned red as he pointed an accusatory finger, "Not you too!"
Niles laughed out loud, putting a hand over his stomach. He could sense their good-natured competition, feeling like he belonged. "I'm just glad to be here, learning from some of the best."
Seeing a good time to break the conversation, Numbuh One clapped his hands together to get everyone's attention. "Alright, there's food to be had, and since Dexter's here, the party is officially about to start!"
With a unified cheer, the group began making their way over to the line next just as the others finished, the smell of food wafting in their noses as they approached. Niles, the girls, and Ben still stuck around in the back, taking their time.
As they followed, Ben casually patted Niles on the back to put an end to their conversation but hit something hard beneath his cape. The sound of the impact and the weight made Niles widen his eyes as he realized he still had one last chore to do. The purified fusion matter tank he had was still strapped to his back, forgotten in the excitement.
"Uh, I've gotta handle something real quick," Niles realized, gesturing for them to go on ahead. He turned to the girls, grinning apologetically. "I'll be back in a few minutes, just need to drop off my stuff."
Blossom, Bubbles, and Buttercup exchanged looks at each other.
"Don't take too long, or we'll eat all the good stuff!" Bubbles teased with a smile.
Buttercup folded her arms as she said, "Yeah, you better be quick."
Blossom nodded with an enduring smile, holding her hands patiently behind her back.
"I will!" Niles assured them, giving Ben a half-wave bye before jogging to the door.
However, he stopped, turning to look back at the celebration in front of him.
When his hand reached for the knob to the door, he gazed out at all of the wonderful (and not-so-wonderful) people in this hall together. So many faces he had forgotten or missed, now back together again like nothing changed. He held his breath, taking in the sounds of their conversations and laughter, each voice like an old friend coming to him again to catch up on old times. The sheer volume of it overwhelmed him, making him feel both deeply connected and strangely distant. A part of him wanted to stay, to bask in this rare moment of peace and joy. But, he knew he had to step away, if only for a little while, to collect his thoughts and prepare for what was next. With a heavy sigh, Niles finally slipped out quietly, leaving the lively celebration behind him.
As he closed the doors behind him, he double-kicked his heels, activating the thrusters on his suit. In an instant, Niles was airborne, rocketing into the sky, and leaving the festivities below. The wind blew past him and riled his now free hair as he zipped past the suburban stretch, his mind focused on the familiar place right in front of him.
Moments later, he touched down with a graceful landing in front of his garage, dust kicking up under his boots. The entrance was simple—plain, industrial—just as he left it. Approaching the keypad, he entered the code, '0-7-2-1.' With a mechanical groan, the garage door began to lift, inch by inch, revealing the dim interior.
As the door rose, he walked inside, greeted by the familiar sight of his personal sanctuary. It always felt like a mechanic shop-like environment with tools meticulously organized, parts and machinery stacked in a corner with a purpose fit at some point one day, and plainly put together qualities of life. It was the new place he called home, one where he constantly maintained and repaired his suit. It was calm, and quieter in comparison to his normally stressful situations.
He made his way to a reinforced platform in the middle of the room, the designated station for the Iron Warrior suit itself. He carefully maneuvered it in place, the metallic arms and legs hooking in the right slots. For a moment, he stood there in silence as he pressed his chest plate, and the suit powered down.
As he stepped out from the set of armor, he reached underneath the cape, feeling for the weight of the jug strapped securely to his back. Steadily he unhooked it, pulling out the sealed container of purified fusion matter. It was warm to the touch, almost like it had been freshly collected. Setting the jug down, he opened the chest compartment of his suit, the metal panels parting with a soft hiss. Inside rested two relics from a life that felt so far away—a vibrant red bow and his worn-out superhero mask.
He pulled them out gently, as if they could shatter in his hands, then shut the compartment. Walking over to his work table, his eyes fell on the newly framed picture that always waited for him—a still image of Blossom, the one from the old timeline, caught in the middle of her smile from the final message she had left him. There was so much he wanted to say, but words just felt empty.
The jug clinked softly as he placed it next to the photo, setting the superhero mask beside it. Niles stood there for a moment, taking a deep breath. His eyes switched between the jug to the red bow in his hands. Gently, he grazed his thumb over the smooth fabric, the texture bringing back a flood of memories—of battles fought side by side, of her guidance, of her belief in him when he was nothing but a guy just trying to be more than what he was.
Finally, he looked back at her framed smile, the silence drowning out the noise of the celebration behind him.
"I'll find a way to get you back, Bloss," Niles whispered. "I promise."
He carefully adjusted the bow, placing it delicately beside the frame, making sure it rested just right. The contrast of red versus the chromatic metal felt warm compared to the cold space. When he stepped back, his eyes wandered over the quiet setup.
For a moment, the world outside the garage felt far away. It was just him, the memories, and the promise he had made. His chest tightened, but he remained still, breathing in, letting the weight of it settle inside him.
Suddenly, a faint hum filled the air as a familiar energy swirled nearby. In a hasty, starlight flash, Nano Alien X materialized from out of thin air. His eyes darted between Niles and the small memorial, taking in the new area he summoned himself in almost immediately.
"Hello, sir," he spoke quietly. He studied Niles' face as he watched him stare at this picture. "I noticed you were feeling sad. Are you alright?"
Niles didn't look at him immediately. His gaze remained fixed on the picture, his thumb brushing absently in his khaki shorts pocket. Then, he took a deep breath and nodded slowly, though the sadness in his eyes was undeniable.
"I will be," he replied softly, yet confidently. Depressed, but certain. "Thanks, X."
X watched him for a minute longer, before giving a small nod in understanding.
The man sat quietly for a moment longer, lingering on the tribute he'd created. The weight of everything–his journey, the battles fought–they all seemed to float in his head while on the road to recovery. His fingers grazed over the edge of the workbench one last time, leaving drawn-out fingerprints from the build-up dust.
He didn't need to say anything more. With a subtle nod, he steeled himself and then, finally, turned away.
X drifted over his shoulder, glancing sheepishly back at the desk one last time before following him out.
When Niles reached the garage door, his hand paused on the button for a moment, as if giving himself a chance to look back one last time. But he didn't. He pressed it, and the door slowly began to rumble down. The bright outside began to dim within, taking away every ounce of light left in the room. The framed picture of Blossom, still smiling brightly, seemed to watch him go while the bow rested beside it, waiting. The Iron Warrior suit stood still, staring at him with a glare on its face.
And then, with a final creak, the garage door closed completely, leaving the suit and the tribute in darkness.
Now they were alone, tucked away in a quiet dark. The suit, heavy with scars and marks, and the memory of the old Blossom, rested peacefully. One day, the suit would be needed again, summoned for a final call. And when that day came, Niles would be ready–ready to finish what he had begun, to end the madness that had taken away his life.
But for now, it was time to relive the life he should've had.
Meanwhile…
In the vast reaches of space, it was a place where time felt frozen, the very essence of life twisted into something unrecognizable. It was a canvas not of potential, but of despair; colored in toxic hues of destructive green. This world stood alone, imposing a threat to the next planet that stood before it. The silence was deafening, the void immeasurable, and a sense of loss was as infinite as the green sea itself.
Beneath the foreboding sky (if it could be called that), a flat, barren stretch of land jutted out, lifeless, overlooking the eerie expense of the corrupted sea. The ground, a dull, pulsing green, seemed to breathe with a life of its own. It was as if the very planet itself was a living, hungering entity. Its sole existence was a curse, forced to endure the constant cycle of craving another mass to consume. This hunger it had was unbound, forever forged to eat. The air it exhausted was like toxic fumes, fueled by the scent of decay and conquest. It was oppressive but united. It was a swirling mass of dark clouds and venomous vapors, suffocating the horizon in eternal night.
The world stood alone, and the remnants of earth had been fully absorbed into the heart of darkness.
Trembling ground on the jut began to shake, the flat surface rippling like disturbed water. It was as if something monstrous laid just beneath the surface, ready to burst open any second. A soft depression formed, sinking inward like a rotten tooth under pressure. The sea continued to lap at the edges, a bit of salty fusion water sinking in with it.
Then, from the center of this swirling vortex, tendrils rose. They were thin, web-like threads of fusion strands, waving together into a gross blanket. Gooey matter dripped and spiraled out, stringing itself into something atrocious. They coalesced, pulling more of the disgusting fusion matter from the depths of the heart, and from this writhing, indescribable mass came a shape. The shape walked out from the ground as if it had been birthed from the planet itself.
Every step taken was slow and steady, calculated to ascend from the churning fusion waters. What started as a bundle of amorphous goop solidified, creating a brand new life. The mass took on a humanoid form, with long, sinuous limbs and a broad, imposing torso. The gooey strands thickened, solidifying into a rocky skeletal structure. It was more than just a being, it was a force of nature, and the planet was at its sole will.
It collapsed onto the small ounce of ground, flopping heavily like a fresh fish. Five tendrils sprouting from the stump of the wrist manifested a jagged hand, stabbing into the ground and tearing it apart like sand. Its legs bucked, knees pulling itself along as its chest rose and fell.
The embodiment of destruction pushed itself upward, hurling its torso and head back as if to take on its new form. It towered above the desolate landscape, nearly a giant in size. His body, shifting and roiling like molten lava, now resembled the terrifying avatar he had chosen. His eyes, flared a fresh bloody red, sparking from the void of space above him.
He looked up through the swirling clouds, the atmosphere parting at his command. With a deliberate motion, he extended a hand, fingers curling as if to grasp heaven itself. As his hand whirled through the air, the thick puffs began to dispel themselves. The vast reaches of space were revealed in an opening as an endless, black void dotted with distant stars. Even their light dimmed in his presence as his eyes scoured over them hungrily, eager to get a taste for the next hunt.
His gaze remained fixed on the cosmos, selfishly reminding himself of how vast his dominion would be.
A pestering thought turned his attention away from the vastness of space, looking down at the ground. He extended a massive palm outward, and within it, the air began to churn. A tiny vortex of fusion matter swirled into existence, captured in his grasp like a tornado. The matter swirled tighter and tighter, creating a glass-like orb, translucent and all-knowing.
The sphere was sculpted like clay as if it were poured from an unknown source, the fluid solidifying into a perfectly smooth surface. It wasn't just any orb, it was a window into another world. The swirling green and black began to calm down, taking on familiar shapes like continents and seas.
It was a replica of earth, fit in the palm of his hand.
He lifted the orb to his face, peering into the depths of its oceans. Within the glass-like sphere, an image sharpened. The scene was displayed in hues of a blood-red filter, centering on two figures. One stood tall, the other frozen in place. The wounded and trembling form of a man in metal armor aimed his pop gun straight at him, directly at this titan. The point of view, considered to be a fusion of him, stood on the edge of an abyss ready to fall in.
The scene itself was tense yet frozen in place, captured like a photo. The real Niles, battered and beaten, stared back with wide eyes of fear and determination. The cavernous area around him was beginning to fall in on itself, signifying the possible end of this fight.
"IRON WARRIOR."
The horror squinted his eyes, getting a good look at him.
"YOU STAND BEFORE ME, A WOUNDED CREATURE, YET YOUR SPIRIT REFUSES TO DIM. WHAT DRIVES SUCH RESILIENCE?"
His chest rose and fell, fresh matter fueling his rising hatred.
"YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO BREAK, TO CRUMBLE UNDERNEATH MY WEIGHT AND BECOME ONE WITH THE PLANET. AND YET, HERE YOU ARE, DEFIANT."
His eyes narrowed, gritting his teeth.
"I HAVE RARELY KNOWN DEFEAT, AND YET… EARTH HAS STOOD AS THE MOST CONVOLUTED CONQUEST. WHAT IS IT THAT INFATUATES YOU WITH THE DESIRE TO LIVE? MORE SO, THE DESIRE TO ACT WITHIN YOUR SPACE OF BEING? SURELY IT MUST BE THE CERTITUDE THAT YOUR TIME IN THIS EXISTENCE IS FINITE. I ASK YOU, WHAT STARTLES YOU WITH ACCEPTING THE BASIS OF ENTERING MY KINGDOM?"
At the idea of it, he reeled back. The orb rested calmly as he dove further into contemplation.
"PERHAPS IT IS THE ILLUSION OF CHOICE THAT YOU CLING TO, THE IDEA THAT YOU CAN FLEE THE INEVITABLE, TO OUTRUN THE HORIZON. BUT WHAT IS A HORIZON IF NOT A LIMITATION, A BOUNDARY YOU CANNOT CROSS? YOU THINK YOUR FEET CARRY YOU TOWARD FREEDOM, YET EVERY STEP ONLY BINDS YOU CLOSER TO YOUR FATE."
He steeled himself, reaching up a curled finger. Gently, it dragged against the glass.
"YOUR MORTAL HEART BEATS AGAINST THE TIDE, STRUGGLING TO STAY AFLOAT IN A SEA OF UNCERTAINTY. STILL, YOU DARE TO DEFY, TO HOPE. HOPE IS A WISP OF SMOKE IN A VOID OF DARKNESS, A LIGHT THAT DOES NOTHING BUT PROLONG THE INEVITABLE FADE."
After a moment, his grasp on the orb began to tighten. He shifted into a glare, staring at Niles with a feeling that defied his norm.
"CONTINUE YOUR STRUGGLE, IF YOU MUST. BUT KNOW THIS: I WILL FIND YOU, ACROSS WORLDS AND ACROSS TIME. YOUR ESCAPE IS BUT A DELAY, NOT A VICTORY. IN EVERY SHADOW, IN EVERY CORNER OF YOUR MIND, I WILL BE THERE, WAITING. WHEN THE MOMENT COMES, I SHALL END THIS PESTERING TURMOIL ONCE…
CRASH!
The orb completely fell in on itself, collapsed by the strength of his fist. The remnants of the continents and oceans fell between his thick fingertips, falling into the ground under him like sand.
"AND FOR ALL."
As the last of the remains slipped through his fingers, the entire chaotic scene froze in place. His deep, resonating voice slowed down until he was completely mute. Suddenly, the image of the malevolent conqueror shifted, shrinking down into a swirling, distorted VHS blur.
The blurred scene settled on a large, floating screen that dominated an entire wall, flickering slightly as the reading lines displayed the frozen image of Lord Fuse like a television broadcast. The screen was the focal point of a vast, otherworldly room, bathed in a soft, warm golden light. The walls were unadorned and flat, a stark contrast to the immense power contained within the space—a simple yet formidable box of reality.
Pressed against another wall, a vibrant pink figure stretched across both the vertical surface and the floor below. Despite existing in only two dimensions, he was the definition of cool, and relaxed. His sapphire blue eye, the only part of him with depth, gazed at the image of Lord Fuse with thoughtful amusement. A long, slender hand stroked his chin as he pondered the unfolding events, his posture a perfect mix of curiosity and nonchalance. The soft hum of chronal energy pulsed throughout the room.
In a space beside him, an old man stood before a wall where a timeline had been meticulously drawn with a dry-erase marker. He ran a hair through his wavy grey hair, marked by the wear of countless battles and age. His blue eyes were partially obscured by a pair of industrial goggles that reflected the line of a timeline he observed so closely. His face was peppered with hairs, loosely resembling a thin weathered beard. The man's skin was faded tan from the mark of a life lived on the edge, his expression intently focused while he looked at the intricacies of the timeline, tracing the delicate threads of fate.
"Whoa," the dimensional figure began, talking casually. "This guy seriously needs to take a chill pill."
The other guy looked up at him, shooting a slightly irritated look. In a grizzled voice, he replied, "How did ya think I felt? I spent ten years fighting that sucker!"
He turned to stare at the screen, squinting his eyes and gritting his teeth. "Even seeing him just gives me flashbacks, egh!"
His friend chuckled softly, his two-dimensional form bouncing bubbly. "Yeah, I can imagine that would mess up your day. Or, you know, your decade," he quipped, his tone light but understanding. "But hey, at least you're not alone anymore, right? You've got… well, you've got me."
"Some comfort that is," the old man muttered, though gave him a side-eye and a smirk. He paused, still at a particular point in the timeline. He straightened up, looking less casual and more contemplative. "This whole thing, like you said, it's a loop. It's only one loop, right? Like a shoelace."
The creature nodded his head as he watched the old man wrestle with his thoughts. "Yeah, but we're in the final stages, Niles. Think of it like a rollercoaster but with one loop. We're near the end of the ride, and once you're done, you can get off."
The old man flinched slightly at his name as if his past had suddenly been thrown back on his shoulders. He didn't reply immediately, taking a deep breath as he went back to staring at the screen where Lord Fuse's frozen image was, looking down on him.
"Sounds good," he replied softly. "Then I can go home and be with my girl and kids, right? Fuse no more, no more fighting, and all of this is wrapped up in a nice bow."
The pink figure smirked, leaning down on the wall to get on an even level with him. "You've got it down, but here's the thing about predestination paradoxes: they're like a cosmic prank. Everything you've done, everything you're gonna do, it's all part of a crazy loop. You going back, fighting the good fight, it was always meant to happen. Now you have to line up the final step. No pressure though, right?"
Old Man Niles chuckled, leaning in and resting his arm on the wall as he took off his goggles. He slowly burst out into a little laugh as he said, "No pressure at all, Prismo! Just save the world, help the young me fight off the biggest bad guy I've faced in the universe, and make it home in time for dinner. Easy."
Prismo grew a little bit more serious. "I'm serious; it's all, like, written in the stars. You're the linchpin in this whole thing. If you don't finish it, the loop stays open. And trust me, an open loop? Not good for anybody."
"Yeah, that makes sense," the old man huffed, accepting it with a weary sigh. "Everything I've done, every choice I made… it all comes down to this. But here's the real question, my wishing friend…"
He looked up at him, eyes narrowing. "Who wrote the book?"
Prismo's smile widened, his playful side fully returning as he blinked slowly. "That's the big mystery, isn't it? You'll find out once we close the loop and finish the ride. But remember, Niles, no one said the ride wouldn't have a few more twists before the end."
The man sighed again, drifting back toward the frozen image of the fusion overlord. "Yeah, well, I've never been one to back down from a challenge. Just hope the prize at the end is worth it."
"You'll see," Prismo replied with a knowing smile. "Maybe it's not just about the end, but about everything that got you there. And who knows? Maybe that bow at the end will be even better than you imagined."
"I have a feelin' you might just be right," Old Man Niles said softly, a faint smile on his face. "But what now? Am I supposed to just sit here and twiddle my thumbs while the world goes to hell like it did before?"
The interdimensional being shifted, his form stretching out comfortably along the wall like a rug settling on a cool tile floor. "For now, just sit back and enjoy the show. You want some popcorn?"
He strolled over, his steps strong despite his age. "Haven't had popcorn in a long time," he mused, lowering to sit himself down beside Prismo, elbows resting on his knees. "But that sounds just fine."
As they settled in, Prismo reached out, conjuring a large bowl of popcorn that appeared with a soft pop through three prismatic lights. The golden kernels glistened in the warm light of the room, invoking cinematic coziness.
With the guiding hand of Prismo, he resumed playing and watched as Lord Fuse unfroze. Defying the physics of dimensions, his hand snagged a piece of popcorn and chucked it in his puppet-like mouth.
For now, though, they enjoyed the low volume and moment of peace shared amidst a winding road of destiny.
9/29/24
Threw a curveball at ya, didn't I? (I like to think I'm slick, sometimes.)
Man, I could not WAIT to drop this chapter on you guys. There was a lot of ground to cover and with little space left, so I ended up making it all short and sweet. I realized that it would've taken too much time to over-detail every single action with the celebration, the recreation of Lord Fuse, and the Time Box conversation. However, this chapter foreshadowed like over 7 different things for the second fic.
So here's the full list of slightly significant characters that were used in this chapter: Grim, Billy & Mandy (Grim Adventures), Johnny Bravo (from his show), The Scotsman (Samurai Jack), Runty (Fusionfall), Cree Lincoln & Stickybeard (KND), Mac, Bloo, Wilt, Frankie, Eduardo, and Coco (Foster's Home), The Eds (Ed, Edd n' Eddy), Coop (Megas XLR), Lance (Sym-Bionic Titan), Ben (Ben 10: Alien Force), Mojo Jojo, HIM, and Fuzzy Lumpkins (Powerpuff Girls), and finally Prismo (Adventure Time).
There were a ton of other characters I could've included, but I think I'll save them for the next fic. I wanted to pick out a cast of recognizable ones right away and the ones that were more relevant than usual for THIS specific fic alone. There were some major characters I wanted to use (Like Gwen, Kevin, Finn and Jake, the Saturdays, Generator Rex, and Mandark), but they're going to be essential later and I can't do it yet. I have to give them justice later!
If you're disappointed Ben wasn't influential in this fic, I'm sorry! His intention and arc is gonna play out in the next one.
This may be cheesy but I'll share it anyway. The entire time I was writing Niles' segment for the celebration, I was listening to the Sam Raimi Spiderman track 'Getting Through' and it oddly fit so well. It's funny because there's a parallel of the two of them putting away their suits to take a break.
Also yeah, he never really created Nano Blossom. I think I'm going to dive deeper into that and the reason why later, but for now I don't want to share too much. It'll ruin the twist later.
A funny thing about Old Man Niles is that his name was an accidental word play on Prismo's mortal form Old Man Prismo, which I genuinely didn't do intentionally but found out when I was doing research.
Yeah, Rick isn't Rick. It'll be the simplest, dumbest reason why that name was first mentioned and you'll either chuckle or hate me for it. Actually, you'll hate Niles.
Since Niles is my version of the player, I took the original spin of the main game reason and conjured up my own backstory. Since this tackles a couple more mature themes, and everyone is aged up slightly, I've made his origin much more impactful for not just the base timeline, but his doomed timeline as well. If you're a little confused, let me break it down for you.
Instead of being a test subject for Dexter's time machine, he was a last-minute saving grace for the world. Because he was sent back in time, technically it was multidimensional time travel making him a prophecy for two timelines. Since his younger self was turned into a fusion, he switched universes with him to prevent his own death. Monkey's paw for time travel. Now why Prismo wants him? You'll see, later.
I took a harsher approach for this version of Fusionfall, meaning it's harder for overpowered intervention to happen. That means no Alien X rebirth, no Professor Paradox appearance, Samurai Jack Gods, Prismo wish, and so on. Does this mean that any of these can't be an outcome? No. It just means Niles is going to have a harder time trying to achieve these solutions since they're outside of the prophecy he's been placed in. At the end of the day, I have to remind myself that this is just fan fiction, but I at least want it to make a little bit of sense (given cartoon logic). Bare with me gang, haha.
This is my Cartoon Network Endgame!
If you're confused or curious on where I'm going with the story, please remember that I am just one guy with a big imagination and an insane toybox to play in. There are so many routes I could take with Niles, but I want to try and lock in on a specific path I plan on taking him while visiting my own memory lane of the old CN shows I had the privilege to watch. I plan on going back over and reading this for myself, too, just so I can live it as a reader and enjoy what I've written.
Thank you so much for reading from the bottom of my heart, and I hope you enjoyed Fusion and Iron.