Wanted

By C.M. Rich (Magnetman)

Episode 15 - Vengence!

May 31st, 20XX, 4:21 PM , PST

Shadowman cautiously circled his fiery foe, his sword held vertically once again, his feet criss-crossing the ground in systematic fashion, slowly.

Torchman paced back and forth before Gauntlet, trying to fake out the wily ninja every few seconds, obviously to no effect.

“You…You Mechs…You’re always right there…Right there at the wrong time, trying to sabotage us…Don’t you understand?!”

Shadowman said nothing. Entertaining the bantering of a re-wired Robot Master was not on his priority list, but eliminating this threat was. Torchman had to go down if he wanted to reach Alicia and see if his claims of her knowing the truth were true.

“Damn you…I…hate you! Say something!”

Of course, Shadowman highly doubted Alicia knew much of anything. She looked to be maybe eight years old, if that. No…it was her father he was really interested in. If only this idiot hadn’t allowed him to be captured.

“Rrrrgh! No! I will not be ignored!”

Torchman took a swipe at Shadowman with his Torch Arm as it blazed with amber fire. Not about to let such a crude attack even glance him, the Cyber Shinobi purposely let his legs go slack beneath him as he whipped his sword around before him, taking a swipe of his own at Torchman’s kneecaps.

But, the burning being shocked Shadowman with an uncharacteristically quick counter with his Torch Arm, blocking the shinobigatana with the thin barrel of the cannon. Planting a devilishly fast boot to Shadowman’s sternum, the two were separated as Gauntlet flew back several feet before regaining his balance.

The cyclopean ninja looked down at his chest to find the source of a certain burning smell that had occupied his nostrils, finding the answer quickly. A footprint had tattooed itself onto his uniform, with embers still flickering around the edges of his specially designed shinobi gear. Quickly brushing them out, Gauntlet then looked up just in time to see Torchman immediately continuing his assault with an attempted shoulder block.

Cartwheeling to the side, Shadowman noted that his foe was definitely…different. He was quicker, for starters. And his body, Shadowman observed, was apparently smoldering, with steam and smoke drifting away from every part of his frame, indicating that Torchman was now a walking furnace, the likes of which would make Heatman proud.

Most noticeable of all, though, was…a new cunning. Shadowman didn’t like to use the words “intelligence” and “Torchman” in the same sentence, even in his own inner monologue, but it was easily noticeable now. Torchman, at least in battle, was a bit smarter.

Projectiles seemed to be in order.

Deftly pulling a few kunai from his back pouch, Shadowman strafed to the side and launched them all at Torchman with trademark accuracy. It was damn hard to avoid them at this range.

Apparently, Torchman agreed, since he didn’t try very hard to avoid the looming daggers, but he had other plans. Fire sparked from his body; fire so hellish, so hot, the steel kunai instantly liquefied as they passed through the flaming aura, splashing against Torchman’s body like a child’s water balloon.

“Hehehe…Do you see?! Do you finally see?!? I’m above you!”, Torchman shrieked.

“No, I’M above YOU.”, Shadowman corrected from a definitely higher stance with a massive leap.

Let’s see how he likes a few Shadow Blades, then, Shadowman thought to himself. After all, his new Shadow Blades were almost phantom-like, with the ability to phase through solid matter if he wanted them to, much like he could with his shadow warp.

Gauntlet flung a few of the four-pronged shuriken into the center-area of his old nemesis, only to watch them vanish within inches of his target.

“Damn.”, Shadowman mumbled to himself. “The light from his fire is canceling them out…”, he realized, taking his earlier experience with The Dusk into consideration.

“Eat THIS!!”, Torchman demanded, with Shadowman still hanging helplessly in midair as he descended. With a massive burst, he unleashed a hellish maelstrom of fire towards his old foe.

With glee, he observed his old enemy become engulfed in fire with no escape. Torchman made sure he had cranked up the heat on that blast, with the huge jet of fire reaching close to three thousand degrees Fahrenheit- enough to liquefy most anything. The environment surrounding the horizontal column of Hell withered even more than it already had, with cracked concrete simply vaporizing in violent fashion, and shards of glass losing shape to a formless pool before seeping into the heat-softened Earth.

He felt his inner temperature drop a few hundred degrees, though, as his body borrowed from itself to generate such a heat wave with that short a notice. His eyes darting to and fro, and whirling about wildly behind him, Torchman wasn’t about to allow his old foe to get the drop on him for the second time today, that is, if he somehow escaped the fire.

A full minute went by, with no sign of the shinobi.

Torchman dropped to his knees, elated.

“Hah…ha ha…I did it…I DID IT! Do you hear me, world?! I did it! Finally!”

Silently, the ruins of LA agreed with him, with no sign of the dark android.

May 31st, 20XX, 4:21 PM , PST

Struggling beneath the dusty wreckage, the orange android suffered against what his own body was doing, namely the exact opposite of what he wanted it to do. If he tried to move his right shoulder, it’d move in a very literal sense, exaggerating his commands, slipping about uselessly. It was as though he were rag doll, powerless against the current of an entire ocean’s own agenda.

“Look’s like you’re having a hard time pulling yourself together, Top…”, the wickedly grinning Oilman observed with impunity as he sauntered over to the pile of debris his sunset-colored foe struggled underneath.

SD attempted one of his more familiar comebacks, but found that not even his jaw obeyed at this point, as it dangled open and closed.

Oilman shoved his arm into the pile, pulling out the flailing Topman, which he sneered at.

“There you go…Isn’t this much better?”

Oilman’s unforgiving knuckles collided with Topman’s overly loose jaw, sandwiching the syntheflesh of his chin between the oily robot’s metal knuckles and his own metallic mandible. A few headbutts later to roughly the same area, and some “blood” trickled down SD’s lip, which Oilman sampled with a pair of fingers as he dropped the suffering Maniac like a garbage man depositing some refuse into his truck.

“Ah…Been a while since I’ve seen some blood other than my own. I was actually starting to wonder if you even bled anymore.”, Oilman remarked, reflecting on numerous defeats of his own by the hands of his now helpless enemy. The dark, messy brown android slowly disposed of the blood on his finger with his lips, cannibal-like. “Oil has such a great texture, don’t you think?”

The sharp-eyed PC robot peered down at his victim, who returned the look of absolute victory with a glare of disgust and anger. Somehow, Topman managed to grit his teeth together, fighting his own bruised jaw’s slippery nature.

“Th-the…hell w-with…you…”, he slurred, causing Oilman to raise a concerned brow. Perhaps his super slippery oil had a time limit?

With a nasty kick to the gut, Oilman sought to get some distance between Topman and himself. After all, he had no idea at this point if he was immune to his new oil’s effects- this sure wasn’t the time to test it.

As the Spinning Demon rolled away, Oilman leveled his arm cannon to douse the constantly-moving menace, after which he’d take his time making his old foe suffer. He earned that much, he told himself.

He waited for Topman to settle, so that his Oil Stream could easily cover him, soaking into every fiber of his being, and making him completely helpless for as long as Oilman deemed necessary. It seemed, though, that his kick was a bit too strong, since his adversary’s form kept rolling back. And back. And back. And to the side, now.

Oilman didn’t take too long to figure out that something wasn’t going according to plan, and he watched the orange menace roll and tumble backwards and in a wide return circle.

“H-hey!”, he snarled.

Despite his body’s unpredictable nature, Topman was gaining more and more speed as he whirled about erratically, all the while Oilman’s oozing spray lapped at his heels, unable to catch the Spinning Demon. Gradually, Topman’s arms stopped moving about so crazily, his legs following suit.

Cart wheeling in a slightly more graceful fashion, the orange android was now consciously avoiding the nasty dark liquid pursuing him. Though not as easily as he was used to, Topman was beginning to reclaim his limbs from certain uselessness in short order.

After several minutes, Oilman scowled to himself, realizing his foe had regained his self-control.

“God damn it…Should have made him take a bath sooner…”

Suddenly, SD stopped a few dozen yards away, still barely in Oilman’s range. In mocking fashion, he hid his hands in his coat pockets, almost challenging Oilman to spray him yet again. Oilman, perhaps the smartest of the PC robots, realized that something was up.

“What are you up to?!”, he demanded of the Spinning Demon.

Topman smirked, kneeling down slowly, then standing upright just as dramatically.

Oilman tilted his head slightly, then looked down at Topman’s feet. Through the sludge polluting the immediate arena close to the crater itself, a single, small top spun innocently enough.

Except that Oilman knew exactly what this “innocent” top was capable of. Then he looked down at his own feet.

“Oh…crap…”

Topman waved “goodbye” in mocking fashion as he leapt into the crater behind him, shielding himself from the ensuing blast from his Top Bomb, igniting the gallons upon gallons of flammable fluid instantly. The anguished screams of the fire-weak Oilman told him enough of the story to figure out the ending.

But…What the hell. Why not have a look?

What a beautiful sight. The nice, amber haze of a forest of fire in the afternoon sunlight, the black, billowing clouds of Earth-killing smoke, and best of all, the barely human form of a feverishly struggling Oilman, aimlessly running about the burning field, probably looking much like himself a few minutes ago.

Ah, irony.

“Well…I don’t suppose I’d still be able to charge him for my dry-cleaning. Eww…”

May 31st, 20XX, 4:21 PM , PST

Amidst the still wasteland that spread in all directions about him, Kenta Eigen eyed the ground cautiously, almost nervously. He also made sure to split his focus on the air above, keeping an ear out for a certain, ominous whirring noise as a trio of interconnected blades cut the air.

It had been a few seconds now. A tense few seconds.

Suddenly, his head perked up as the air came to life with the sound of razor sharp incoming pain. Instinctively, Magnetman shot his legs outward to let the Shark Boomerang pass overhead, but it’s master wasn’t sitting idly by. From the earth, like a volcano, Sharkman erupted, jaws first, right below the dusty red robot, whom pressed a hand on the sharp, metal nose of the savage shark as the massive disk of death swept in just inches above his head.

Quickly, the blades did an about face, and were back on target in only two seconds. Swinging his legs in front of him now, the nimble Robot Master, still with hand atop the nose of the gnashing Sharkman’s nose, flipped backwards. His feet touched the middle of the spinning weapon, and he pushed towards it, sending it skywards once again.

As he landed, right in front of Sharkman, Eigen shot a few Magnet Bullets into the ground as his subterranean foe once again took refuge beneath the surface, out of his range.

“Kuso…”, Kenta cursed. “This won’t do…”

With his helmet up, Magnetman started to “feel” the environment for some…friends.

Ah, there was one now.

With a hefty grunt, Kenta dislodged a discarded iron beam from the neighboring ruins, and impaled the ground. Wondering if he managed to hit anything, he didn’t have much time to ponder, since the incoming Shark Boomerang seemed to answer that, yes, Sharkman was still just fine, much to Magnetman’s chagrin.

Kenta kept on the move this time, paying more attention to the ground than the impending blades above him. Below his feet, the Earth got soft- time to make a leap. Right on cue, the metallic shark rose from the ground, found nothing, and disappeared beneath once again, like the Loch ness Monster.

The blade wasn’t much a of a problem without Sharkman nipping at his heels, so Magnetman took hold of it once again and propelled it away- hopefully far away.

Following the interruption, Kenta found more scrap iron, and tried again to blindly skewer his shielded enemy from above.

It went on like this a third time. A fourth time. A tenth time, even, the Shark Boomerang periodically making a comeback, but Sharkman himself becoming scarce- perhaps trying to avoid giving clues to his location.

But by now, even with the annoyance of the Shark Boomerang, everything was set. With any luck, it worked.

From above, the fairly uncluttered space Magnetman was being chased around in now bore a spiral pattern, formed by the metal beams he stabbed into the ground. At its center, untouched land. It was on this center that Magnetman focused on from atop one of the large metal I-beams.

With tremendous focus, the Earth shook, and the center of the spiral responded, gradually dislodging itself in dusty fashion. The beams directly around the middle bowed outwards, prying the chunk of Earth up like massive crowbars and holding it aloft.

In crude fashion, Magnetman swiftly started tearing chunks of the ball of Earth away from the center, catching glimpses of his catch flailing about within, until, finally, the majority of the dirt and debris was free of Sharkman, like the rind of an orange.

Held fast by some unseen force, Sharkman thrashed about madly before looking down at Magnetman, whom stood atop the iron beam still, with one hand outstretched, as if commanding him.

But something was…very wrong. Sharkman could see Kenta’s face, since he retracted his helmet at some point. A ghoulish, almost inhuman grin festooned his face…But that wasn’t the most disturbing fact.

It was his eyes. They were black. Pure, bottomless black. No soul present in them. No mercy. Suddenly, the monstrous grin had more meaning- it meant suffering was imminent, as Sharkman was bound tightly by Magnetman’s suddenly much stronger magnetic grip.

Hoping his wild card was forgotten, Sharkman’s Boomerang silently stalked Kenta from behind, who seemed unaware of its presence.

Something seemed to…alert Kenta to it’s presence, though. The cloaked robot’s head jerked suddenly at an odd angle, then Sharkman could feel his Boomerang’s control be stripped from him, violently.

Now, the tri-bladed weapon slinked over to Magnetman’s helpless foe, and it tilted upright, spun faster and faster, and moved in just as quietly, just as slowly, agonizingly.

It was a massive buzz saw, now. With Sharkman screaming, pleading for his life, he felt the blade inch closer as it bit into his chest, millimeter by agonizing millimeter, machine-like. It was soon an inch deep, and almost past his armored breast plate. Then two inches- nearing the mess of tubes and wires that made a robot go. Then three, accompanied by a cascade of dark, oily blood spewing into the air and trickling down his chest as his screams grew even louder and more frantic in nature.

Now…Four. Within another inch, the titanium blade would saw into Sharkman’s heart, and then his suffering would really begin.

Then…It was over. It stopped, just like that. It took a few seconds, but finally, Sharkman’s desperate cries ceased, then died down to a whisper. The Shark Boomerang clattered to the ground, its mission over. Then, the PC android’s body followed, landing messily amid the graveyard of iron beams and the small, crater-like formation he was unearthed from.

Then, after fear subsided into curiosity, he looked around.

He clutched his chest and looked upwards, searching for the maddened Magnetman, but failing. He was…afraid to find him, truthfully, but finally, he did, slumped shoulder-first against a beam a few yards away, staring blankly at the ground, his lips moving, but nothing audible accompanying that.

Sharkman didn’t know what to do. Not for a few minutes, at least. Attacking didn’t seem like an option, even…He was more afraid of drawing the dusty red robot’s attention again, freezing him in fear a few times as he convinced himself to run.

Finally, he managed to, grabbing his Shark Boomerang and running faster than he thought possible, far away. Never…Never did he want to see that again.

Those pitch black, soulless eyes.

 May 31st, 20XX, 4:21 PM , PST

Lennon flexed his hand instinctively, his eyes still shut tightly as he lay amongst the debris. How long had he been out, he wondered.

The odd silence about him seemed to say “a while”. If so…Did Waveman simply…leave? Did he really think the fight was over, just like that?

Or…did he think…he was above him now? That Geminiman wasn’t even worth his time?

Not having that, Geminiman stirred, wearily. It was a harder struggle than he had thought it would be. After all, he was laying beneath ten feet of dirt settled atop him, making him someone who could claim to have been buried alive and live to tell about it.

Finally, the sun greeted Geminiman, rewarding him for all of his hard work to escape the suffocating blackness of the earthen blanket.

Shaking the filth and dirt free, for the most part, Geminiman cleared his lungs with a few heavy coughing spasms. Once that business was attended to, he set about the task of solving the mystery of the disappearing sociopath.

It didn’t take very long.

“…What…?”, Lennon murmured to himself, his eyes wide in wonderment and fear.

It’s not often in this line of work where a villain kills themselves amidst a battle, especially when they’re winning.

Geminiman stood above the sprawled, unmoving body of Waveman, laying at the center of a deep recess in the Earth, probably created by him using all of the dirt around him to attack. He was definitely…deactivated.

Robots have the habit of coming back to life. Lennon didn’t seem to have to worry about that in this case. Sure, Waveman could probably be rebuilt…But he sure didn’t envy the guy charged with doing it.

Waveman’s limbs were cut, lengthwise, his thighs down to his shins, and his biceps down to his wrists. The cuts were wide at that, so wide that the metallic frame beneath was easily accessible, though burnt by some sort of torch.

That’s not what killed him, though. It was either the massive gouge across his chest, or the simple, straight hole drilled from temple to temple. Seemingly, it missed the memory storage area- good for Wave later on, not so good for Wave now.

The mystic Mech clutched his head, a slight headache buzzing around since he unearthed himself. There was also…something else. He wasn’t clear on it, though.

What concerned him currently was who had done this to Waveman. He hated to admit it, but it's possible that Wave had him outclassed this one and only time with such an overwhelming change of strategy and power level.

Nobody else was here, though. There was nobody else around prior to him being knocked out, and no signs of anyone around, besides the other Mechs, far off in the distance.

…Who?

“…I know who…”, Lennon hissed to himself. “Shadowman! You did this, didn’t you? This has your fingerprints all over it, Gauntlet!”

Naturally, there was no answer.

“This is your work! You think you’re protecting me, do you?! Do you?! Or…Do you want to rub it in my face?

How dare you! How dare you intervene in MY fight! You had NO right!”

Geminiman looked about, his arms outstretched, challenging the surely hidden Mech leader, who was no doubt giggling madly at Lennon’s failure on the job.

Lennon rubbed his eyes and heaved a sigh of frustration.

“Erggh…Ahhhh, DAMNATION!”, he screamed, kicking Waveman’s lifeless corpse, sending it rolling away so that it wound up leaning against the shallow wall of his self-made recession. As Lennon grimaced and cursed Gauntlet’s name, his eye caught something laying on the ground, right where Waveman had been occupying.

It was one of his riot sticks.

Instinctively, Lennon checked his belt, immediately noting that he was indeed missing one of them. He…couldn’t remember using them against Waveman, either.

His heart felt cold and hard, as if refusing to beat normally. Still, he picked up his weapon and sprinted over to Waveman’s side once again, nervously.

Holding the tip of the deactivated riot stick to one of Waveman’s many wounds, it was quickly evident that there was a match.

All at once, Lennon dropped the weapon and recoiled in horror, his mouth aghast.

“Oh…God!”, he stammered.

The possibilities quickly narrowed themselves down. He remembered having a few clones out as he was knocked out, so it was possible that one of them got the drop on Waveman while on autopilot.

But…

Something told Lennon that wasn’t the case. For one, it was unusual for his copies to continue doing much if he, the original body, was disabled. Secondly, the riot stick wasn’t a clone’s. He had a funny way of knowing, but he always did. A gut feeling.

Lennon knelt down next to the mutilated PC android’s body, looking at his hands in disbelief, fading into horror, with a twinge of guilt and self-hatred. Yes…There they were. Small, but…there.

Burns. Small, tiny burns. They’d rub off normally, but they were sparks from his riot sticks as they gashed and melted through metal.

Evidence.

…He wouldn’t tell them. How could he? How do you bring something like this up to them? It couldn’t be done in casual fashion, most certainly, nor could it be out of self-fear.

What would Classi say, after all? Would she even be able to look at him if he admitted to such a horrendous, malicious act? She hadn’t been able to even look at Kenta since…whatever he did before her eyes in that tunnel earlier. Something like this…Well, it could be the end.

No, he couldn’t say a word. And…He couldn’t allow Waveman to, either. He’d be rebuilt at some point, with knowledge of this. Who knows if he’d tell it?

Something had to be done.

Lennon picked up his discarded riot stick again, hesitantly switching it on. In the dust, the soft white glow illuminated his limbs before him, and the defeated form of Waveman, lain before him. Holding the tip of the weapon between the broken android’s eyes, the Twin Terror gritted his teeth and took in a large breath of air, holding it in.

Then, he let it out.

What was he doing? He wasn’t a…killer. This wasn’t him!

This was insane!

Slowly, Geminiman stood up, not taking his eyes away from where he nearly permanently took a life, even if it was the artificial life of a sworn enemy. He holstered the now-idle beam weapon, turning away from the corpse.

No…He wouldn’t tell them.

May 31st, 20XX, 4:21 PM , PST

NeedleGal felt a trickle of blood escape her mouth, matching the trail that was making its way down her belly from the wound Blademan had carved into her. To keep his old enemy from drifting away too easily, Blademan twisted the blade maliciously, jerking NeedleGal back to pain-filled conciousness.

“Not so fast, cutie…”, he sneered. “There’s something I’ve always wanted to do.”

The magneta-colored robot leaned in, lips parted slightly. Hoping for a little sugar, the rather pompous robot received something else for his romantic offering in the form of twenty-three spikey bullets tearing through his left ankle in rapid-fire precision.

Needless to say, the mood was spoiled for him.

Things went downhill for him even more, as NeedleGal, despite still being impaled and losing strength rapidly, gripped her fuchsia foe’s jaw tightly, then let some of her needles shoot out of her armor, tearing up the skin of the now-wailing Blademan.

He pushed her away from him as quickly as possible, finally freeing NeedleGal from her predicament, though in painful fashion.

Neither one were capable of standing up right away, with Blademan’s foot and ankle reduced to pathetic shreds, and his face not faring much better. The spiky mistress lay on her side, pinching her wound shut and wincing in pain.

“You-h…You-h got s-some nerhh, itch”, Blademan claimed, his intended words barely recognizable to since his lips were almost completely gone. Slowly, he clambered to one knee, then onto his one good foot, hopping a bit to gain balance.

The dark blue NeedleGal fared even worse, as she struggled and suffered just to achieve an upright position. Finally, after forever it seemed, she was standing, though she wasn’t sure walking was even possible with a massive hole punched through her, dangerously close to her spine.

“An’ hhere…All Ih wan’ed to do wahh mahke nice…Youh when an’ spoiled thah…”

NeedleGal coughed a few times, evacuating a bit more vital fluid than she thought she’d have to. “There’s…*cough*…Always the internet…”

Wearily, the two stared at each other, unsure of what to do next. It quickly became an awkward situation.

“Mahk your mohh…”, Blademan offered, his sentences becoming less and less intelligible.

“…*Hah*…You first…”

By now, Blademan was losing his patience, so he finally obliged, sending a few randomly-sized blades towards Needle, whom somehow managed to roll out of the way. More than likely, Blademan’s own shots were half-hearted, at best.

Needle sprayed an assortment of cannon fire of her own as she rolled to the side, catching the magenta PC robot a few more times in the chest and legs. Again, Blademan retorted with shots of his own, which managed to slice up the spiky mistress even more.

Finally…One last shot. A hail of Needle Cannon bullets managed to lodge itself into Blademan’s skull, taking out one of his eyes completely, and blinding the other with spatter from his own blood. Unable to see, Blademan let loose a few shots in random directions, hitting very little other than wreckage.

Using the last of her strength, Needle climbed to her feet with no small effort and managed a charge. With her cactus-like armor in full bloom, she slammed into Blademan with as much force as she could muster, taking the both of them down.

Sitting atop the hacked form of Blademan, he looked up at her with his remaining eye, and the remnants of his lips formed what could loosely be interpreted as a smile. Just barely.

“Hehh…Beh-bee…This is why ah loh yah!”

A solid “thwack” from Needle’s fist to the butchered mouth put an end to that, along with Blademan’s consciousness.

Rolling off to the side, NeedleGal was exhausted, barely able to move. It seemed as though the wound to her abdomen was even worse than she suspected.

It’d take awhile for her auto-repair systems to catch up and make up for the energy deficiency she was suffering. She’d also have to plug the hole somehow.

Though…That could be done later. After she woke up.

May 31st, 20XX, 4:21 PM , PST

The toothpick-chomping robot gave his old adversary a firm kick once again. It was almost boring at this point, he noted.

“C’mon…This ain’t so fun any more, Hard.”, Bitman complained.

“…Yeah…I know th’ feelin’…”, the giant blue Robot Master concurred, thinking back to every single one of his encounters with the shocking yellow android.

On shaky knees- a very rare feeling for the usually sturdy, four-ton Hardman- he stood back up, refusing to go down. If he was going to be beaten here today, it’d be on his damn feet.

Bitman seemed capable of reading his thoughts. “If that’s the way ya want it, Hard…”, he sighed, lumbering towards the massive Maniac as he spit out his equally giant “toothpick”.

Rearing back for a house-leveling right hook, Bitman was stopped short by Hardman’s left hand. Soon, his left fist was also captured, and Hardman wasted no time in using his head to find a way to get the upper hand. Literally.

The sudden, ear-splitting crack of titanium meeting titanium resounded throughout the area as U-shaped lines carved their way onto Bitman’s face from the crisp ridge of Hardman’s helmet mashing its way into the beaten mug.

With overwhelming strength, Hardman wrenched Bitman’s arms downwards, then fired off both Hard Knuckles simultaneously, jerking the hulking yellow android down with them. Digging deep into the soft ground, Bitman was suddenly subterranean by a few dozen feet within seconds. Fighting the BMW-sized fists was no small task even above ground; when you're surfing the Earth, it was damn near impossible. And painful, too.

At around the two hundred foot mark, their engines cut off, and the Knuckles loosened their grip. With a sudden, violent stop, they suddenly disappeared around Bitman, deserting him in the darkness of the grave Hardy had dug for him.

Above, Hardman patiently awaited his hands to return to him. They had been gone for a full minute since taking Bitman away for a free vacation to Hell, so they were a welcome sight when they erupted near the cavernous hole they had shoved the PC thug down. Clicking back into place with a series of safety locks, the big blue battle tank flexed his fingers routinely. Then, he listened.

As soon as he heard it, phase two began.

Blasting free from the ground itself, Bitman screamed with rage and victory in his voice as he escaped the grave, as well as proved himself to be much tougher than what Hardman thought of him.

Too bad the four tons of Big Blue smashing down directly upon his head cut his single-syllable speech short, as well as smashed the majority of his jawbone’s teeth free of their positions. Once again, Bitman found himself plummeting through the Earth itself, this time with his old amigo right there to keep him company with a smattering of lefts and rights.

Attempting to light up the situation, Bitman arced with electricity once more, though it wasn’t as effective traveling about sixty miles an hour through solid rock. By this point, Hardman was ignoring the shock therapy, anyways.

Bitman let loose a sigh between hearing one of his cheekbones smash and his eye socket crumple.

It was good while it lasted.

Long after his foe had lost conciousness and their combined momentum stopped carrying them towards Hades, Hardman found himself too tired to keep punching. It was a good thing Bitman’s face now resembled an overturned bowl of Quaker Oats since this was the case- he sure wouldn’t be in much of a fighting mood if he woke up any time soon.

Wearily, Hardman turned over in the massive tunnel he had plowed he and his yellow foe through. A good hundred feet of Earth stood on either side of the vertical tunnel, he estimated. He actually had to wonder if his propulsion system would carry him to that height with as much damage as he had sustained.

He’d find out, sooner or later.

It’d just be…a bit later.

“God…I wish I had a drink right about now…”

May 31st, 20XX, 4:21 PM , PST

“Come on…I’m not here to hurt you, sweetie. Let’s get you out of here and get you somewhere safe.”, the kind-faced SparkChan offered to the child hiding beneath a dilapidated park bench.

At first, the little girl shook her head weakly, afraid of the android before her. But, slowly, she came to accept SparkChan, and shakily took hold of Classi’s waiting hand.

The electric lady picked up Alicia like she was her own child, and looked for a safe place to hide with her. Unfortunately, there wasn’t much.

“Where’s your parents, sweetheart?”, SparkChan softly asked.

“They…They came and took daddy away…”, she whispered.

“Who? The men in grey?”

“Y-yeah…Daddy told me to stay with the scary robot men, but I don’t like them…”

“I don’t blame you…Your name is Alicia, right?”, SparkChan asked, still keeping an eye out for a safe place to stay.

“Yeah.”

“What’s your last name, hun?”

“E-Enstehung.”

Classi thought to herself. German? Dutch, perhaps? Taking into account Alicia’s light brown, almost blonde hair into consideration, it fit.

She was pretty heavy, Classi started to notice.

“What’s in your backpack, hun? Something your dad told you to keep?”

Alicia became very aware of her backpack at that moment, turning away from Classi’s face to hide it better. “Daddy told me to watch it.”

“…I understand.”

SparkChan was very curious as to what was in this bag, but knew searching it at this time wouldn’t be in her best interest, as she risked upsetting Alicia enough to give away their position.

As it turned out, that had already happened.

“SO!”, Torchman shouted loudly from behind SparkChan, coming from seemingly nowhere. “Taking off with my client, are we?!”

“Torchman!”, a startled SparkChan squeaked. “Er, uh, what happened to Gauntlet?”

“Oh…HIM…He’s been DEALT with.”, Torchman said in a low, rumbling tone designed to strike fear into his newfound victim as he placed his hand victoriously on his hip.

SparkChan let out a few giggles.

“What the hell are you laughing at?!”, the red robot demanded to know.

“Ha ha…You’ve got a pretty good sense of humor, Torch.”, SparkChan grinned, not believing for an instant his bold claims. It wasn’t the first time he claimed to have killed Shadowman, after all.

“Woman, you doubt me? ME?! We’ll see how much you’ll laugh when I reduce you to ashes without your precious leader to save you!”

SparkChan set Alicia down and held her back with a protective hand, mostly expecting Shadowman to return from whatever side-venture he was distracted with.

“Alicia,” Torchman began, looking at the frightened child behind his target. “Find a good place to hide. And don’t look- this is going to be…ugly.”

For once, SparkChan agreed with the maniacal, cult-like leader of the PC team, and set Alicia Enstehung off with a reassuring shove and a nod.

“Torch…Don’t do this…This is such a waste! You know as well as I do that we’re innocent.”

“Innocent…Innocent! Ha! What a laughable claim! Innocent you say…Where was that word when it came to us? Never has anyone ever tried to defend us. We’ve spent our whole lives living in YOUR shadows…We’ve been spit on for the entirety of our existence. And here, when you get but a small taste of what we’ve had to endure, you dare…DARE to use that word?!

Help you? I…We hate you! We hate everything about you! But most of all, we hate you getting a free pass, while we have to live in the goddamn DUMP!”

“Torch, I-“

“Eeeergh, SHUT UP! NO!...You’re not going to weasel out of this like you always do! Today…We’re taking our revenge!”

His own words providing maddening fuel for his insane rage, Torchman dashed forward, smashing his Torch Arm down onto SparkChan, who was unprepared, and attempted to block the blow with her own arms.

She managed to stop his arm for a few seconds, but his strength was aided by his hatred, as well as the burning sensation Classi felt in her fingers as Torchman turned up his own heat. His arm smashing into the ground as Classi rolled backwards, Torchman began smoldering once again.

“DIE!”, he commanded, unleashing the flames of hell from his Torch Arm.

SparkChan managed to roll to the side, avoiding most of the flames, but feeling the fire lick her heels, burning parts of her legs. Torchman didn’t give her much time to think about her new pain, though, as he simply changed the direction of the intense wave of heat, and started chasing her.

Reluctantly, SparkChan realized that perhaps…Shadowman wasn’t coming. At least…Not yet. She’d have to mount some sort of defense in the meantime, so she started throwing weakened Spark Shocks towards Torchman.

A few collided with him, smacking into his chest, sending sparks and embers flying into the air as they collided. His eyes shut hard for a few seconds, and his body shook, but nothing he couldn’t shrug off. It wasn’t long before the heat was back on in full force.

“Ehe hehe…HAHAHA! You didn’t really think a few jolts would stop ME, did you?! Grahahaha!”

Classi was now running as though her life depended upon it, and in all reality, it did. The flames that chased her absolutely incinerated the ground and whatever mounds of debris they touched, burning and melting the environment like a miniature sun. Frantically, she lobbed more and more Spark Shocks at her would-be killer, but with little success.

She came to the sad realization that she’d have to hit him with a bit more power if she wanted to survive long enough to protect Alicia. She even found it strange that, despite his very real intentions of ending her, she wanted to protect Torchman from harm, but she was faced with little choice but to hurt him to some degree.

Others were counting on her, after all.

Still running, she tapped her metallic conductor to her head, which had a conductor of its own. Coming into contact with each other, a very bright flash shot through the area, easily outdoing Torchman’s own fire.

Blinded, Torchman stopped his constant blaze, but waved his burning arm about wildly, spewing deadly, napalm-like flames from his cannon as he clutched his eyes with his good hand.

“Aaaugh! What a cheap trick! My…eyes!”

Using the distraction to her advantage, SparkChan held up both arms high above her head. Between her hands, current flowed freely, a strange feeling for the electric lady, who usually maintained a very disciplined control over her power. Soon, the current grew stronger with each arc, and an emerging sphere of pure energy formed, the air cracking with its strength, and the air filling with the smell of ozone and hydrogen.

It didn’t take very long at all. In a mere six seconds, she had it- a massive Spark Shock at her disposal.

She hesitated for a few more seconds, contemplating whether or not to actually use the crippling orb. After all, with this much power…It might finish off Torchman. Could she live with that?

In a split second, SparkChan thought of her friends. Her family. They counted on her. Time wasn’t on their side anymore. It was precious to them. Almost as precious as life itself.

She shut her eyes once more, and made up her mind. With all of her might, she hefted the charged sphere of energy towards the staggering red robot a few meters away.

“I…I’M SORRY!”, she screamed as she watched the giant orb descend upon the incapacitated PC leader.

In a brilliant flash, his form disappeared, and tendrils of electricity splashed out of the impact point, lashing out into the air and Earth. SparkChan could feel a wave of electricity pass through her body a few nanoseconds after the impact.

As quick as it happened, the flash rescinded, and Torchman was…gone.

“…Oh…No…I didn’t…I couldn’t have…”

“Of course not!”, Torchman screamed as he charged her from the side, unscathed from the blast of electricity. In a rather confusing moment, SparkChan felt both elated and horrified as Torchman was alive and well, but more enraged than ever, with his white hot Torch Arm held high above his head, just about to smash it across her head and melt her to the core.

“Ahhhh!”

There was a clear clang of metal on metal, and Classi was down. When she finally managed to pry her own eyes open, which seemed welded shut in preparation for Torchman’s death blow, she was more elated than before.

“Sorry I’m late.”, Shadowman said, almost casually from behind his sword, which kept the burning Torch Arm at bay.

“You?! How the hell…?!”, Torchman screamed in confusion and rage.

Quickly whirling around with his sword in hand, Shadowman deftly swiped at Torchman while he was still shocked, lopping off his Torch Arm in the process.

For good measure, a few kunai pierced Torchman’s chest as he was distracted with his amputation, finally knocking him down. Keeping his distance, Shadowman didn’t sheath his sword just yet, but checked on Classi.

“Are you alright?”, he asked, offering his hand to help her back onto her feet.

“I…I’m glad you’re here…”, she said, smiling, but still obviously frazzled.

“You…WHY?!”, Torchman spat as he grabbed his bleeding stub from his position on the ground. “HOW?!”

Gauntlet finally replaced his shinobigatana back into its scabbard. “Now THAT…Is a secret.”

“No! Don’t give me that! I deserve…I demand an answer! How did you escape my inferno when you were in midair with nowhere to escape to?!”

Shadowman smiled slightly.

“Fire creates light. Light creates shadow.”, he said simply.

“’Fire creates’…Oh…Damn it!”, he screamed.

“Good night, Torch.”, Shadowman said bemusedly, tossing a Shadow Blade into Torchman’s head, the phantom blade shorting out the PC leader’s digital mind, knocking him out instantly.

“Did…I miss something, Gauntlet-sama?”, SparkChan interjected.

“I wouldn’t worry about that. I’m just sorry it took me so long to come find you.”, he apologized. “…Where’s Alicia?”

“Over here.”, Classi beckoned.

As the two Robot Masters walked towards Alicia Enstehung’s hiding place, a few more followed as well, as the Mechs rendezvoused with one another after another round of battle.

But, at this pace…Could they even survive another such gauntlet of fighting?