Bass and Treble raced along the deep canyon that cut through the badlands.

A loud buzzing drone filled the air. Bass glanced back where they had come. He could see the many towers of Skull Fortress silhouetted against the night, the sockets of its horned skull facade glowing in the dark, and a swarm of shadows rising above it like gnats. A fleet of skullcopter had taken to the air, their bone-white armor gleaming in the moonlight, the shining beams of searchlights sweeping the desert.

Bass turned around sharply with his blaster drawn, "Do those fools really think they can stop me?" he muttered aloud, taking aim. But before he fired, a flash of light at his side caught his attention. He looked down. Treble had morphed into a jetboard and was hovering at knee level in front of Bass, waiting patiently.

Bass looked from Treble to the skullcopters, decided the skullcopters weren't worth wasting precious time, then hopped aboard Treble's jetboard, and together shot up into the night sky, leaving Skull Fortress behind.

As the jagged peaks of badlands fell beneath them, the wind whistling over the contours of Bass's helmet, Bass closed his eyes, concentrating. He felt—or perhaps sensed—a feeble pull, something tugging at him like a ghostly beckon, its presence nearly non-existent. Opening his eyes, Bass pointed to the southern sky.

"Fly that way," he urged Treble.

As alarms rang through Skull Fortress, Dr. Wily, muttering furiously under his breath, was busy righting any fallen lab equipment that hadn't been crushed by the ceiling cave-in. He shot Proto Man a beady-eyed glare.

"This is all your fault! You scared Bass off!"

Proto Man gave a lazy shrug, not bothering to help Dr. Wily clean up. "Didn't have a choice. You saw for yourself he was out of control."

"He's just confused," Dr. Wily said stubbornly, scooping up a pile of attack-bot blueprints that were scattered across the floor.

"Say, there isn't there something about Bass you're not telling me, is there?" Proto Man asked, thinking back to how Bass had complained about having blank memory chips and his subsequent strange behavior.

"No! Of course not! He is just a bomber robot, like you and Mega Man," Dr. Wily responded much too quickly as he suddenly stood bolt upright with a little jerk. Then his face split into a fiendish grin. "With him, I had devised a plan where he would pose as an ally to Mega Man, win the Lights' trust, then betray them when the moment is right!"

"We just tried something like that, Wily, and it didn't go well, in case you've forgotten? No way the Lights' would have fallen for it again! Not that it matters now. Face it, Doc, you've created a monster—and you need me to put him down for ya."

"Give him time!" snapped Dr. Wily, purple in the face as he stuffed the blueprints into a filing cabinet by his desk. "Bass will come back—you shall see."

Proto Man gave Dr. Wily another lazy shrug, smirking. He had gotten over his initial outrage over discovering Dr. Wily had copied his designs to build his own bomber robot, for the thought of hunting down and destroying Bass sounded fun. He only regretted how easy it would be—Bass may have taken him by surprise earlier, but no one messed with Proto Man and got away with it—not even another bomber robot.

But for now, he'd humor Dr. Wily and give Bass a sporting chance to run.

When Mega Man had finally fallen asleep again, the fitful dreams returned, this time clearer than before. The laboratory was on fire, and from across the flames, a black figure of his size and height gazed triumphantly back at him while holding his family trapped in mortal peril. Though Mega Man ran toward the figure, desperate to reach his family, he could not gain any ground, the flames burning hotter. All the while the figure laughed tauntingly, both his equal and his superior…

"You're far too weak, Blue Bomber…" the figure called in a haughty voice. "You can't even save your family. Come fight me, if you dare—you wouldn't want them to suffer."

It was the type of nightmare Mega Man could not wake up from, though he tossed and turned in his sleep. What was the figure? Mega Man couldn't understand it. It was at the same time familiar and yet some sort of…monster.

All in all, Mega Man got a poor night's sleep. As the sun began to shine cheerfully through the white curtains of his bedroom window, he tugged his blankets over his head, irritably feeling the light was much too bright.

Bass and Treble had been flying a little over two hours. The eastern sky had turned a rosy pink as the sun began to slip over the desert horizon. The air felt much warmer, though the landscape shared the same rocky plateaus and striped mesas of the badlands surrounding Skull Fortress.

Without knowing why, Bass instinctively knew they were close. He began scanning the ground—then he saw it, a large circle at the center of a red sandy plain. Treble dropped altitude, and they landed at the edge of a crater large enough to be a drained pond.

Bass peered into the wide basin. This crater was a few months old, the sides smoothed from wind. It looked like some sort of explosion had taken place. There were barely discernible bits of metal, dusty and misshapen as though exposed to great heat, though not much was left—it looked like the area had been picked clean, with footprints scuffing the sand all around.

Bass stared hard at the center of the crater, a roaring sensation building in his ears, and his chest grew warm.

What is this place…?

At his side, Treble looked up at Bass and gave a soft whine.

Bass suddenly straightened. "Shh," he murmured urgently, for he had heard approaching footsteps. He whirled around, blaster drawn and locked directly on the chest of the figure behind them.

The figure was boxy and awkward looking, made of silver-painted foam sheets glued together, its limbs incased in plastic accordion hoses, a pair of wire antennae sticking out of its cubic helmet.

Bass lowered his blaster. It was just a human in a stupid costume.

"Yo, alien," the human called to him in a rasping voice. "No breaks! You can look at the robot battlefield crater on your own time."

"I'm not an alien, I'm a robot," Bass called back coldly.

"Look, whatever man, take it up with Mayor Red."

"Where am I?"

"What, the sun baking your noggin'? This is Space Gulch, historic site of the world-famous glowing green meteorite that crashed here last summer. Alien attack and everything. It's all in the employee brochure." From the cutout slit in the cubic helmet, the human's dull eyes swept over Bass's armor, and he shook his head. "That is some crazy gitup. Did you make it yourself?"

Bass looked past the human toward the human settlement behind him, taking it in for the first time. "…Space Gulch?" he murmured.

It appeared to be some sort of human tourist attraction. Though it did not look open yet, long lines for carnival rides already wound around buildings decorated with garish wooden cutouts of green aliens with black insectoid eyes and robots with boxy bodies and claw-like hands, not unlike the costumed human before him. Piping music drifted toward them as some of the rides started up for the day. Bass's lips parted as he grew even more confused. None of this seemed familiar, nor had any obvious importance.

"This is stupid. Why did I even come here? …What am I looking for?" he muttered to Treble, defeated. "Why is everything in my brain…so…scrambled!" he kicked a rock, launching it down a gorge. "It's that Wily's fault. Stupid human." He thought back to the conversation with Dr. Wily, then a new thought occurred to him. "…I bet it has something to do with Dr. Light."

Dr. Light—for some reason, the name sent a shiver down titanium his spine.

The human who had mistaken him for a worker was listening in on his conversation with a suspicious expression. He gave a gruff snort. "You're crazy!"

"I'm not crazy," said Bass, shooting the human a severe glare. "Tell me—where does Dr. Light live?"

"Dr. Light? That scientist guy?" The human spat on the ground. "Why, New York City, of course! Everybody knows that."

"New York City…" murmured Bass contemplatively.

Treble gave a short, warning growl. Bass had heard movement as well and turned—two Robot Masters were heading their way along the desert, their eyes fixed on Bass and Treble. One had brown armor adorned with shiny golden stars, the other had white-silver arrmor that gleamed mirror-like in the morning sunshine.

"Who are you all supposed to be? Do you work here too?" demanded the human.

"Gemini Man and Star Man, and not anymore," responded Star Man. A small fire had glinted in his eyes as he glanced over at Space Gulch, but then they softened as they flickered curiously from the crater back to Bass. "Dr. Wily thought you might come here…"

Bass pointed his blaster at Star Man. "Tell that stupid old man I don't like to be followed."

"Drop the blaster, dumbass," spat Gemini Man, his eyes narrowed. "Wily sent us to get you. He's got the whole fortress looking for you!"

"What in tarnation is going on out here?" cried a fourth voice. Another human had appeared, wearing a gaudy outfit comprising of a ten-gallon hat, a bolo tie with a UFO-shaped clasp, a silver fringe jacket, and cowboy boots embroidered with stars and planets. His vulture-like face eyed them suspiciously. "If you ain't working here and yer not payin' customers then you can just mosey on out!"

Star Man stiffened at the sight of the human.

"Don't you recognize me, mayor?" he asked, his low husky voice growing colder.

"Now why would I know any highfalutin weirdos like you?" returned the human, hands on his hips as he jutted out his long chin.

"Can it, human, this is between us robots," growled Gemini Man. He fired a laser from his blaster, which hit the ground between both humans' feet, then ricocheted upward, reducing a billboard with a meteorite on it into a pile of ashes. With a yell, both humans threw their arms up and ran back toward Space Gulch.

"Now, as I was saying—" Gemini Man began, looking back at Bass.

Blam.

Bass had fired at Gemini Man—but Star Man had darted quickly between them, a barrier of shimmering star-shaped energy whirling around him. Bass kept up the attack, pelting the force field with viridian blasts while Star Man and Gemini Man took cover behind it.

"Stop firing at us you crazy shit, we're teammates!" Gemini Man shouted over the thundering noise of the two energies colliding with one another.

"I don't have time for you—and I'm not crazy," Bass growled back. He aimed one last super shot just as Star Man's force field failed, and both Star Man and Gemini Man were knocked backward, crashing with a small puff of dust over a hundred feet away.

Treble had transformed back into a jet, and Bass hopped on. This time, they sped east, toward the rising sun—to New York City, where Dr. Light lived, and hopefully answers to the riddle within his mind lie.

As Bass left, Gemini Man and Star Man were busy digging themselves out of the desert ground, Gemini Man cursing angrily while spluttering up sand.

"I don't get it, why did he come here?" he grumbled through gnashed when they were finally standing again, both brushing dust off their armor. "Nothing but a corny tourist trap and a Robot Master graveyard."

"I dunno, but I'd bet it had something to with that blue gemstone on his chest," answered Star Man, dropping his voice while glancing nervously toward Space Gulch. "Keep this to yourself, but Wily got it from here, only he doesn't want everyone knowing about it. He always had it with him whenever he asked me questions about what happened at Red Gulch."

Gemini Man whistled and shook his head. "Well, the idiot's run off again. Let's leave this creep town…unless you want to torch it first," he added softly as he stepped closer to Star Man, reaching out to brush a patch of dust from his shoulder.

"No," replied Star Man, though his brown eyes twinkled appreciatively as he looked back at Gemini Man. "Thanks again for coming with me as backup." He smiled shyly, then grew serious again. "We need to report back to Wily that Bass wouldn't come back with us."

Gemini Man sighed, squinting toward the horizon Bass had disappeared toward. "Wily's not going to like that."

Mega Man had slept in late that morning—later than Roll, even. It was so uncharacteristic of Mega Man that Roll teased him about it when he finally got up and came downstairs. Sheepishly, Mega Man told Roll about the nightmare—which like most nightmares sounded silly in broad daylight.

"Do you think it means something?" Roll asked half-jokingly, half-eagerly. They were both seated at the kitchen table—Mega Man looking over Dr. Light's morning paper while scratching Rush behind the ears, Roll leafing through a magazine.

"I hope not," Mega Man responded, yawning and rubbing his eyes.

Roll looked him over shrewdly and tutted. "Aw, Mega…I bet it's stress getting to you. At least it's just a nightmare, right?"

"I'm not stressed. At least…I don't think I am," Mega Man said honestly.

"You need to relax," advised Roll. "You're spending too much time working in Dr. Light's lab—"

"But I like working in the lab," protested Mega Man.

"You need a break for some fun—"

"Working in the lab is fun—"

"—Like going to some concerts with me!"

Roll slid her magazine across the table, which was open to a full-page spread devoted to her favorite metal bands, advertising their various tours that Roll had mentioned the night before. Mega Man looked down at the tattooed humans with their numerous piercings, their spiked leather outfits, their punk hairstyles dyed in violent hues, and most notably their obvious love for everything to do with the damned.

"That'll just give me more nightmares," he said jokingly, raising a brow at her.

"Alright, you don't have to if you don't want to," Roll sighed, a little disappointed. "But you should take the day off, at least. You know Dad would want you to, he was concerned when you didn't show up at eight as usual. Besides, you'll want to be well-rested in case Wily attacks."

"Alright, alright, if you insist," laughed Mega Man. He was absentmindedly rubbing the back of his neck as a soft prickling sensation ran down his nape. A cold wintry draft seemed to have slipped in through the window. He yawned again. "So what are you doing today?"

"Going to the mall. I need a new windbreaker after my last one got ripped the other weekend when Cut Man and Guts Man ambushed us at the park, and I want to check out power tools at the hardware store. You should come with me! We could stop by an arcade or go to a movie, and it would be a good chance to give Rush a long walk in the city."

At the word 'walk', Rush's ears had pricked upward. He tilted his head toward Mega Mega Man, panting excitedly, his wagging tail beating against the table chairs.

"We could go to the bookstore," added Mega Man, who was also warming up to the idea. "The new volume of Polymer Chemistry for the Advanced Lab Assistant has gotten good reviews."

Roll shook her head and rolled her eyes. "Ugh, I can't believe you actually read those, they're heavier than cinderblocks."

"Cover to cover!"

"Did I overhear you two were going out?"

Dr. Light had come in from the laboratory for his second cup of coffee. He smiled over at them, one hand in his lab coat pocket, the other holding a blue ceramic mug.

"Yeah," answered Mega Man. "Sorry I overslept."

"Oh, it's quite alright. In fact, it reminded me a bit of back when P—" Dr. Light cut himself off with a slight jerk, his face falling. He quickly turned his back on them and busied himself with the coffee pot, then added in a cheerful if distracted voice, "The important thing is for you to spend time together. Please go have some fun, and don't worry about coming home too late."

Mega Man and Roll watched as Dr. Light hurried out again toward his laboratory, then exchanged sad looks.

"I swear if we ever run into Proto again, we're kidnapping him and forcing him into house arrest for Dad's sake alone," Roll whispered in an undertone to Mega Man. "If he doesn't like it, too bad—we'll force him to like it. It's not like we haven't tried being nice about this, and it's what we'd have done for any other robot who had spent the last three years of his life working for Wily and couldn't be reprogrammed."

Mega Man couldn't help but smile at the thought, remembering how much Proto Man had hated when Roll had dragged them to a human Halloween Party for some sibling bonding back when Proto Man was pretending to have defected (not that Mega Man himself had enjoyed the party much either), though he sighed ruefully. "I know, I know…though I can't help but hope that next time we meet Proto, things will be different somehow."

Roll ruffled Mega Man's hair. "I know you can't. He's still our big, stupid brother."

Quint was busy arranging a workplace for Kalinka within his laboratory when an alarm began beeping on his supercomputer.

An incident report from Red Gulch! he thought, terrified.

A few months ago, Quint had returned to Red Gulch (now rebranded as 'Space Gulch') posed as a tourist while secretly scanning for alien energy, but had found nothing. Still, he thought monitoring the area for unusual activity would be prudent—for if alien entries had once been drawn to the area, it might happen again.

Quint shot over to his desk chair. Pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose, he shut down the alarm and began frantically tabbing through screens. The incident had taken place a little over an hour ago. Grainy security footage from the hidden cameras he had planted showed tourists wearing fanny packs and sun-hats with wire antennas waiting in line for rides. All looked normal so far. He checked the meteorite crash site—it was empty. He checked the mine, which was also empty. Then, at the crater left behind where the alien had disappeared, he could make out three figures.

Quint slumped back in his chair, calming down a little as he played the footage. Oh. It was just Dr. Wily's robots. He watched as the robots engaged in a brief skirmish, then quickly departed, the winner going east, the losers north. The entire incident only lasted a few minutes, and without any lasting damage would be only significant enough to make headlines in Space Gulch's local newspaper. Even the humans had barely noticed the fight, aside from Mayor Red and one of his employees who had been frightened off for getting too close. But what were Dr. Wily's robots doing there in the first place, and what had they fought about?

Though thoroughly puzzled, Quint let out the breath he had been holding, relieved that at the very least, aliens entities had not returned after all. Still, Quint did not like it. It seemed like a precursor to something more nefarious going on. Perhaps it was his imagination, but he felt a prickling sensation originating deep within his Quintessence power core and creeping up the back of his neck like icy fingers. He better forward this report to Dr. Light to be on the safe side, for stopping Dr. Wily and his robots was Mega Man's priority, after all.

To be continued…