The Business of War

Orchestrated By C.M. Rich (Magnetman)

Predator

By Gauntlet, Hardman, Avi, Seadragon, Shadowstrike,

Scenario D
[(\./)]
Participants:
Drastic Measures (RPD)
Mechanical Maniacs (RPD)

Location: Monte Carlo, Monaco
Max. Cossack Scrap Value: 4317
SA Infantry: 1738
RPD Units: 1216
Wily Bots: 432

They were not used to feeling like this. They were soldiers, damn it! In the great General’s army! They had a mission … a focus … that others just lacked. It came with the burning clarity of one who experienced little other thoughts besides loyalty. And honour. And duty. Duty above all else … to their predacious Mother Earth. And to their master race. And, above all else to their great commander.

The troop of Joes were wandering in the deserted area of Monte Carlo, Monaco. The Scissor Army had invaded some time ago, but most of the citizens had managed to evacuate. Still, driving the primates from their homes was the original goal of their mission. To sew their leader’s seeds of –

The Nightshade Joe and his Unit took aim above their heads. There was a noise! They all heard it! The Joe’s optics zoomed in. He might have better vision than normal Joes, but he couldn’t make anything out. Not that it meant anything. Not with the adversary they were facing…

A bird fluttered from out of its hiding place. The Joes did not relax. They were not programmed to know how. This just meant they were still hunted.

There was initial resistance in the battle for Monte Carlo. Wily’s forces, of all factions, had hindered their efforts in annihilating their opponents. The old man had the nerve to send his inferior model of Joes as the bulk of their army. Naturally there was still a strong Wily presence in the area, however there were not –

The Dark Joe made a strangling sound as he was lifted upwards. There was no cry of fear. Or surprise. Joes were not programmed to react that way.

Were they?

Whether they were or not, the unit acted as one. There was no need to utter a command vocally or through their transmitters. In truth there wasn’t much difference between one Joe and another. It was a comforting thought for the Scissor Joes. They knew exactly whom they could trust.

Or did they?

They opened fire, obliterating their captured comrade. He understood. Their mission … Elysium … came first. He would have done the same.

Their adversary giggled madly. Was the Joe capable of feeling unease? Surely not! Not the Scissor Joes!

Their adversary leveled his weapon at the group of troubled warriors. “Tag,” he said, smiling, “You’re it.”

--------------------

It was a cold, windy day in Megalopolis. The skies were gray, cloudy, and the occasional flurry fell. The grasses outside were sprinkled with bits of frost, and the sound of strong winds brushing against the walls of the RPD headquarters was heard all throughout the building, echoing an eerie tone, almost like that of ghostly spirit, moaning away in agony…

Nothing could be done to make this day any more cheerful for the Drastic Measures. That last battle could only be considered a stain on their already questionable record – in addition to their habit of inadvertently and inevitably causing damage to the city they fought to protect, they were now faced with what could only be described as utter humiliation. They themselves had failed to liberate Hong Kong, and it was lost to, of all the opposing factions in the war, Dr. Wily’s forces. But worst of all… they had lost their dear comrade, Freezeman. Not one member of the team had known what had become of him, but they couldn’t help but fear for the worst. Was he actually dead? Was he suffering? Would they be forced to terminate him on the battlefield?

All this was thanks to the laughing terror known as Mesmerman. Mesmerman… the very thought of this monstrosity drove Turboman to the edge. All the hell the DM had to endure lately was Mesmerman’s fault! If it wasn’t for this… creature’s intrusion, the DM would have been able to save Hong Kong, and they wouldn’t have been met with awkward stares from faces around the HQ, and the ravings of a corrupt supercomputer, reminding them time and time again of their continued failures. And furthermore, Freezeman would still be with them, and in good health… Mesmerman! The visage of that twisted, unchanging smile wouldn’t leave Turboman’s mind. And he wanted nothing more than to see it display an expression of intense fear as he drove his Scorch Saber through its eye… then he’d watch the head burn from the inside out, shrieking in agony, and begging Turbo for mercy as he painfully awaited his demise. As Turbo sat, alone, in a darkened room at HQ, all he could think about was ending this monster. No matter what the cost.

Their mission in Hong Kong was a failure through and through. All the Drastic Measures had accomplished was the destruction of the Cross-Harbour Tunnel, which flooded a good portion of the city. Burstgirl, the one responsible for this little accident, was sent off on a patrol mission in District Q of Megalopolis in a hopeful attempt to make amends for the damage she had inadvertently caused. It was cold outside, cold enough for her to feel an everlasting stinging sensation in her gel tanks – the nature of her special bomb-making chemicals that flowed throughout her body didn’t take too well to extreme temperatures. While at this temperature it wasn’t nearly enough to cause any sort of internal damage, it was still enough to cause a noticeable discomfort. But this discomfort was easily forgotten whenever she had found a straggler from the Scissor Army, and had it stuck in a danger wrap. She’d laugh out in glee as the robot’s pieces shot out across the street, but when all was said and done, things got uncomfortable, and not to mention lonely, once more. The RPD troopers assigned to her weren’t even affected in the least bit over her maniacal laughter as she blasted apart her enemies… they were about as cold and emotionless as the day’s weather.

After a good while of patrolling, Burst and her assigned unit had cleared out nine SA stragglers from the area and returned to HQ. Still quivering from the cold, she wrapped herself in a blanket, took off her helmet and undid her ponytail, allowing her now-messy hair to fall down and cover her ears. Though she had no physical damage to speak of, her face looked like a wreck… although she didn’t care at this point, as she only wanted to see her teammates. These days, there has been little time for members of the DM to interact with one another outside of any major mission, what with them often being sent out on errands by the chief. As she strolled through the hall of the DM’s living chambers, she couldn’t help but notice that the door to Turbo’s quarters had been left ajar, while indistinguishable music played softly on the radio from inside…

As she slowly pushed the door inward, she saw a car parked in the middle of the room, facing the wall. The place was dark, with the only light source being that from two small windows. The car made a small motion to his side, indicating that he had noticed Burst, and then continued facing the wall, remaining ever silent. It would be an understatement to say that it is difficult to read the facial expressions of a car, but anybody could figure out that Turboman wasn’t feeling quite up to par. Burst wasn’t quite sure what to make of this… she never felt that she was all that great at cheering people up. But she knew that her leader needed his team’s support now more than ever, so she stayed by his side. They remained silent for about a minute, listening to the soft, almost inaudible sound of the radio playing in the background, amongst the wind clapping against the building. Finally, Burst spoke up. “I… brought a blanket. I know it is kinda freezing, and I thought you’d…” Turboman made a brief shaking motion at the mention of the word “freezing.”

“Eh… heh, sorry,” Burst apologized for her choice of words, attempting to retain a positive demeanor… an awkward situation indeed. Finally, Turboman spoke up. “I suppose I should be the one apologizing, for being a little… obsessive. But mark my words, I will personally see to it that Mesmer pays for what he has done.”

“Yeah…” Burst responded, “and I’m sure Freezey will be alright-”

“YOU DON’T KNOW THAT!” Turboman snapped. Taken aback by her leader’s sudden outburst, Burstgirl wasn’t quite sure what to make of things… but even still, she knew she had to continue supporting him. “Listen, Strike… please know that you will always have our support…” Burst stopped, not knowing what to say next.

Silence again. All that could be heard now was the wind outside, which was slowly calming down, and a DJ blabbering about on the radio. And then, they could clearly make out the DJ saying, “now here’s some Stones.” An all too familiar song began to play…

“Please allow me to introduce myself, I'm a man of wealth and taste; I’ve been around for a long, long year-”

The song was quickly drowned out by a loud series of clanking noises as the car rose up, now transformed into his humanoid form. Turbo then slammed his palm against the radio, shutting it off immediately. “…Huh?” Burst stared at Turboman in confusion. “But I like that song.”

“Get out!” Turboman commanded sternly. Burst, not one to disobey orders, left Turbo’s room in an instant. She had known him to say such things to those who had disagreed with his tastes in music, but never like this… he was being serious… no, he was being obsessive. It was then than Burst had remembered what Mesmerman had said when he had first made himself known in the last battle. “Pleased to meet you, hope you guessed my name.” It was a shame. Few would look upon that good old song the same ever again, just because some twisted freak of a supervillain had a penchant for quoting it so often. If Mesmerman kept this up, it wouldn’t be surprising if it were to disappear from the radio altogether…

“No need to be such an asshole…” Burst mumbled to herself as she made her way to the team’s meeting hall. Cloudman was sitting on the floor, in the corner, with a cup of chocolate pudding, and carton of orange juice. He was licking the pudding from off his fingertips. “Pudding makes all the troubles go awaaaaaaaay…” he hummed to himself, although a sense of gloominess could be heard in the normally silly robot master’s voice. Junkman was standing in the middle of the room, lifting weights, while Springman was sitting at the table, behind his laptop. While none of them looked their happiest, they each took the time to welcome Burstgirl back. After a little discussion, Burstgirl hesitantly asked, “Is… Turbo in any condition to continue leading?”

“Well,” Junkman said, “With the way he’s-”

“ATTENTION, IIIIINFIDELS!” Crorq, the robot chief of police, boomed over the loudspeaker, catching everybody off guard – Springman bounced up from his seat, and Cloudman spat out orange juice and chocolate pudding simultaneously. “I hereby order, nay, COMMAND the peons referred to loosely as the ‘Drastic Measures’ and the ‘Mechanical Maniacs’ to the briefing room THIS INSTANT!” Crorq continued shouting over the loudspeaker. “WELL?! I don’t see any of you here yet! What are you doing?! MOVE, you worthless peons!”

They had no time to dawdle. In the RPD, when the supercomputer Crorq speaks, you listen… or else. As Burstgirl, Cloudman, Springman and Junkman rushed through the halls, they were soon joined by Turboman, who still didn’t utter a single word. As they made their way to the briefing room, they couldn’t help but wonder… were the Drastic Measures and the Mechanical Maniacs working together on a mission? And if so, why would the RPD deploy its two most established robot master teams on a single mission? The Scissor Army just HAD to be planning something big…

--------------------

In one of the conference rooms in the bowels of RPD HQ, one of the few empty rooms (for a given value of empty, of course), Hardman and Shadowman sat, silently, contemplating things and trading thoughts on the current situation.

"I know ya took a blow ta yer confidence," Hardman said, gesturing vaugly at Shadowman, "bu' ya gotta get back on th' horse and try again, y'know? I mean, if ya wanna take a break, tha's fine, bu' don' give up complet'ly jus' cuz some psycho has an advanatage over ya."

"It isn't that easy," Shadowman sighed, shaking his head. "I mean, sure, I've been fixed up, and physically, I'm my normal self, but... that whole genius chip thing was... unreal. Looking back on it, I can't believe I ever thought it was a good idea. I mean, it took Topman of all people to beat some sense into me."

Hardman grinned. "Yeah, th' lil guy comes 'n handy some days."

"I know you're concerned, Hard, and I appreciate that, but..." Shadowman slumped his shoulders. "I... I just don't feel like I can do this right now."

"If ya don' go ou' there when Crorq tells ya to, Amatista's jus' gonna shut ya down."

"I can't lead you guys. Not after that."

"Eh, we c'n fergive 'n ferget."

Shadowman shot to his feet, frustration crossing his features. "But that's the problem! You guys have let me run the show for so long under my rules that I'm going insane here! You're all used to following orders... well, you more than most, Hard, but you get my meaning. Me? I've been cheating my way out of everything for so long while you all covered my back that... I tried to cheat again, and it blew up in my face. One of you should have stopped me."

"'S hard ta stop ya when yer a psychopathic, paranoid, delusional Bizarro you, Shades," Hardman shrugged. "B'sides, fer all th' time ya spen' goin' crazy, I was ou' cold, remember?"

Shadowman's mind did a mental backflip. It had stuck on a nickname Hardman had just used on him. That was a first. Normally, Hardman just called him 'Boss.' His brain caught up with the rest of the sentence as he nodded numbly. Things were... different now.

Gaderham rolled by the doorway and did a double take on the two Maniacs. "Didn't Crorq call you guys to his office... two minutes ago?"

"Yeah," Hardman grunted, looking at a nonexistant watch on his wrist, "so Shades an' I still got... four or five minutes b'fore he's done chowin' down on somethin' 'r other."

"Fashionably late," Shadowman cracked a fake smile.

Gaderham simply rolled his eyes, probably more frustrated with the fact that they were correct about Crorq than any breach of protocol, and rolled off. Shadowman gave a look to his large teammate.

"We should get going, you know," he said.

Hardman sighed and stood up, theatrically stretching his arms. "Yeah, yeah... as long 's th' Boss hears th' plan, she'll tell us th' finer details. She's usually on th' ball like tha'."

"Yeah," the ninja robot chuckled, "Needlegal usually keeps better track of details than I do."

"She'll make a good stand-in Boss," Hardman nodded sagely. "Here's hopin' somethin' doesn't go fantastic'ly wrong fer her t'day. Still, I admit I'm curious why Turbo'n his crew 'r gonna b' involved too... C'mon Shades, might as well go see what's up."

The big blue behemoth wandered out into the hallway, Shadowman not far behind.

--------------------

“INFIDELS” Bellowed the leader of the RPD as Shadowman and Hardman arrived. “Don’t you realize you’ve kept Crorq, the INCONCIEVABLE, waiting!?” To emphasize his point, Crorq threw his half-finished burrito at the two as they walked into the room. It hit Shadowman square in the chest and fell to the floor.

Shadowman brushed off bits of stuffing half-heartedly. “Sorry about that.”

“You should be! That burrito is coming out of you pay!” From out of nowhere, Crorq produced another burrito and took a bite. While he did this Hardman looked around the room. Needlegal was sitting at the front of the room, leaning forward intently, but looked downwards as Crorq began eating. Snakeman was beside her, looking bored.

Drastic Measures looked even more unsettled than what remained of the ‘Maniacs. Maybe they were feeling the pain. Hardman had heard that Freezeman was killed in their last bout … he could sympathize. But, while the ‘Maniacs won one battle and scored a technical victory in the next, he couldn’t recall Drastic Measures taking home a prize. Turboman looked beside himself.

Amatista, now in her full battle costume, was tapping her foot impatiently as she glowered at Crorq. In fact, Crorq was taking an extra long time chewing on that burrito of his. Neither one seemed to acknowledge the other was in the room.

“Now, since we’re all gathered here,” said the chief, “it’s time to get this meeting underway. No doubt you’re wondering why I would call both teams on one mission. No doubt you’ve assumed it’s because of your piss poor performance as of late.” Turboman shifted in his seat. Even with that mask on, he looked about ready to punch something. Crorq continued as if he hadn’t just insulted everyone in the room. “This is only partially true.”

The monitor flickered. Although it was an audio-only transmission, they knew one of Wily’s Crystal Joes when they heard them. “Mayday! Mayday! We need help! We’re being hunted down like rats! He’s snapped! He’s …”

The Joes screamed and the transmission hissed with static. Everyone in the room, including Amatista and Snakeman were wrapped with interest as they heard a familiar, shrill voice over the line.

"Nice to meet you. I know I say this to all you pretty Joes, but … can you guess my name?”

The Joe screamed in terror. Gunfire and laughter could be heard over the line for several more minutes before the connection died.

Crorq moved in front of the room. “Your mission is to destroy Mesmerman.”

Turboman leaned forward in his chair. His chance... And it had come so soon! Needlegal paled. Her first shot at real leadership ... was she ready for it?

Crorq went on, “Given sightings of his physical form in many locations around the world simultaneously, and the fact that destorying these bodies never seems to slow him down, it is strongly evidenced that Mesmerman has many current bodies. Our Research and Development team thinks we actually only need to capture one in reasonable condition to trace the signal to Mesmerman’s central base. You are to bring this Mesmerman back in more-or-less one piece. These are the details.”

Crorq went on, dribbling burrito stuffing all over the floor as he spoke. They were heading to Monaco. It seemed there was fighting recently. Wily’s forces of all people engaged the Scissor Army. His misfits actually rescued most of the populous, despite severe combat draining most of their numbers. However, all fighting seemed to have paused.

“And what’s even more curious,” said Crorq, “is that we didn’t have to hack that signal. The Joe was transmitting along all frequencies.”

Hardman grunted. All frequencies? Did he want the RPD or Cossack to find him? And … did that include the Scissor Army frequency too?

“For this mission, I’m giving you nine hundred and forty three troops – “

“What!?” screamed Burstgirl in a rage, “That’s all!!?”

“SEVEN hundred and sixteen!”

“How do you come up with these numbers!? Is there some stupid random number generator in that head of yours!?”

“INFIDEL! For that you’re forces will be depleted to – “

“We’ll need at least two thousand.” All heads turned at once to the back of the room. Amatista was looking annoyed. “This is an important mission. You know you can’t screw us out of proper troop size.”

Heads spun back towards the front. Crorq’s monitors glowed red with contained fury. He had squeezed his burrito to a pulp. Its contents were dribbling all over the floor. This was not the Crorq they knew. No one could get away with contradicting Crorq. However, Amatista was a Watcher. And while they had clearly come to an understanding before the meeting, they were not quite used to each other yet.

In the end they got about one thousand two hundred. It wasn’t quite the two thousand Amatista was asking for … and she did not seem pleased with the figure … but it was not the seven hundred Crorq had threatened either.

--------------------

The bright light of the teleportation system engulfed their vision. There seemed to be some resistance and for a moment the team felt unusually light-headed, However that lasted only a fraction of a second. After that the light died down, and they were greeted with a sight that had become all too common in this war – buildings smashed, wreckage littering the streets. The temperature was nice and mild, as it always was in Monaco; but even still, a disturbing chill emanated all throughout the air. Mesmerman was around alright…

Springman, a long time gambling enthusiast, gazed at the ruins of Monte Carlo’s once proud casino complex and sighed. He wasn’t the only one to feel that it was a total shame, Junkman was planning a vacation to Monte Carlo before the war had started, so he could wind down. Whoever, or whatever, did this made a real mess of things.

Junk was the last of the team to arrive via teleportation along with the RPD units. Immediately they secured the perimeter, sensing that things weren’t right. Junk unconsciously shrugged his shoulders. He still wasn’t used to it. It never felt right to him. Turboman led the way as the teams started to explore the ruined city. It was once a bustling little city on the coast where the rich played like, well, rich people. It was home to the Grand Prix of Monaco and the great Casino Royale. But, that was then...

A battle had taken place here, as indicated not only by the damage to the area, but by all the scattered remains of Sniper Joes – not only those of the Scissor Army they had grown accustomed to fighting, but Joes of the classic Wily variant were also strewn about the landscape. Sniper Joes, Hammer Joes, Crystal Joes, Skeleton Joes… Wily had sent out nearly every variety of Joe he could produce on this mission. Even local RPD presence was felt as several, blocky Officer bots littered the ground as well. Seeing such a wide variety of parts, Junkman saw this as an opportunity to get a new coat of armour, using his magnetic body. As the scrapped armour of the Wily Joes compacted against his body, he felt a strange, chilling sensation… how did these Joes die anyway?

The Mechanical Maniacs and Drastic Measures trudged along the battered landscape. For a moment, things were quiet, but that silence was quickly broken up by a series of panicked cries in the distance… the two RPD teams and their forces could only rush forward to inspect the situation. Who was it? Could it have been the distressed citizens of Monte Carlo? No, they were… more of Wily’s soldiers! The RPD troopers raised their weapons, but Needlegal ordered them to stand down – these Joes weren’t a threat, after all, in fact they were in fear…

Many of the Joes stood, trembling. Some were even kneeling whilst covering their ears, while others were curled up on the ground in a fetal position. Most of them were running around aimlessly, screaming… their screams all drowned one another out, so it was difficult to make out what they where trying to say. The sight of the Joes in this pitiful state was unnatural, to say the least. The members of the RPD each exchanged confused looks, not quite sure what to make of this situation.

“My mind…” cried out a Hammer Joe, “MY MIND!” With that, the Hammer Joe bent over, picked the rifle off a deactivated SA Joe, pointed the barrel at his eye, then proceeded to pull the trigger. He fell to the ground, beside the SA Joe. A Skeleton Joe, who was quivering in terror since he was first spotted, merely fainted after witnessing his companion take his own life. A Sniper Joe also attempted suicide with the same rifle, but another hammer Joe snatched the rifle away from him, and smashed it under his foot. He then proceeded to knock the Sniper Joe unconscious with a fist to the face – it was for his own good. With each passing minute of observing the Joes’ bizarre behaviour, the situation grew all the more confusing. No one would have thought that Wily would have programmed such emotions into his combat drones... would he? But if Mesmerman was involved, who was to say?

Turboman spotted a few Wily Joes that seemed freaked out, but less suicidal, than their friends by whatever hit the area. "Hey, guys … peace, alright? We just want to know … what happened out here?” One of them started to speak up and said "... There's something out there. Whatever it is, it made mincemeat out of our troops. Me and Ol' Sped there are the only survivors. Well … with our marbles, anyway." Turboman looked at the one called Ol' Sped and asked Junk to talk to him and see what he knew.

"Alright. Let's make this quick: What the hell attacked you here? Furthermore, what are you guys after here in Monaco anyway?"

"I don't know why we are here, man. There is something out there though. This monster killed my friends... my allies. It was the devil. The devil himself!"

He sure wasn't any help at all. Junkman told Turboman what he knew. "Whatever is out there, he sure doesn't give a rat's ass on who he attacks. Wily, SA, RPD. He destroys all. I wonder... No, it couldn't be him. Could it? Nah... This has to be a freak incident. What do you say, Turbo?"

Turbo stared at the devastation. He had an idea about who it was. Yes, it fit that guy perfectly. But … he didn’t want to say anything. At least not until he figured out what this was all about.

--------------------

Needlegal shuddered. She hated seeing these Joes like this. If this was Mesmerman’s idea of a joke, she was not laughing.

“Fan out everyone,” she said to the RPD officers, “Try to find friendlies. If you do contact us immediately.” The Wily bots may be shaking in their cybernetic boots, but maybe the RPD had fared better. Because of the importance of the mission, Crorq had deployed a few Special Forces, some SWAT officers, and many Neo officers. However, if only to spite Amatista, there were several blocky Officer bots and Retired Officer Units among them.

Needlegal spared their Watcher a glance. She seemed vaguely …. Disturbed. Did the sight of robots driven mad make them seem more human to her? Or was it something else? Needle didn’t spare her too much thought. Instead she looked over at Drastic Measures. They were talking to a Joe that seemed fairly coherent.

The Joe named Ol' Sped was still speaking tot hem. “It was! I tell you it’s true! We’ve been here for so long …. Some of us had given up hope. I mean …. Sometimes we try to escape, but there’s this …. Invisible wall ….”

“A force field,” muttered Junkman. Ol' Sped shook his head violently.

“No… NO! I knows a force field when I see it!”

The only other sane Joe walked towards his friend to calm him. He placed his arm around his companion in a very un-Joelike gesture of friendship. “It wasn’t a force field. It was like nothing I’d ever seen.”

Needlegal nodded to herself. Whatever it was Mesmerman had done it was obviously good. “Look, I know this is crazy, but … we have a mission! Let’s move on, guys.”

Hardman muttered a “Right boss,” just audible enough to hear. Drastic Measures offered no protest and followed Snakeman on their way to search for their prey. Shadowman, for his part, hung back and let the others do the big thinking.

Ol’ Sped and his pal quietly followed their new companions. It was a very long time since they were around people who weren’t fighting over old rifles in order to blow their brains out.

--------------------

Hardman shuddered. Their new pals gave him the creeps.

“Y’kno’ ‘hat I’m wondrin’?” said the behemoth to no one in particular, “I’m wondren why there ain’t no bodies around.” The team looked around. Indeed. There weren’t any bodies to be found. A lot of ruins, lots of dried blood, but … no actual bodies. It was creepier than if there were bodies around.

Their new companions shuddered. Turboman seemed to notice. “Do you guys have something to add?” They just looked down.

“Some guys can take war better than others,” said Ol' Sped, “But some guys just lose their marbles.”

Turbo shook his head. It just made no sense. It was best to forget it.

The trip was uneventful. Oddly, no Joes were lying in wait to attack them. They had spent the entire time exploring the ruins of the city looking for anything they could find. It was during this dead time that Needle received a transmission.

“We’ve found the local RPD units! You’d better come right away!”

This was followed by a tracking signal. Needle was uncomfortable for a moment as the teams turned to her for orders. “Uh …. Right! Okay, me and the ‘Maniacs will check that out. Hopefully they’ll be coherent enough to give us a straight answer. You guys, I want you to continue to look for … well, anything! Try to find a way of looking for Mesmerman.

Turboman spoke up. “Whatever that sicko wants …. He’ll find us. I’m sure of it.”

The teams wished each other luck and split up. Given no orders, Ol' Sped and his friend stayed with Drastic Measures. They couldn’t tell them what kind of nightmare they were walking into. They wanted to, but … the devil. You never knew where he was … or when he was listening. It was better to stay down and see how things worked out.

--------------------

Drastic Measures continued to tread on, followed closely by the two Joes, over building, blood and gravel alike. No words were exchanged, all energy being used to scan for anything and everything that showed signs of movement. Despite their best efforts, they were unable to find anything that might have suggested there was anything here, except for the blood and the buildings. That is, until they walked past a building and saw something that was truly haunting.

“Oh...my....god....they are....mangled!" Yelled Burstgirl, bringing her hands up to cover her face. In front of them, in a long and straight line, laid the twisted deformed bodies of enemy robots. Those that had arms had them clutched to their head, and those able to emit emotions had a look of pure fright upon their dead and frozen face.

“They...seem to just stop....does anyone else see that?" asked Springman, pointing out the truth. The line of bodies did not go past a certain point.

“See! I told you there was an invisible wall!” Ol'Sped yelled, throwing his arms in the air. His friend next to him only shuddered in fear. “And these are just the ones that tried to run! Who knows where the rest of everyone is!"

“What....what could cause this?” Cloudman asks no one and everyone, his voice quavering just the slightest bit.

“I don't know. I didn't think something like this was possible.“

“I thought I already told you! It was the Devil!” Ol'Sped yelled, deliriously pointing off in random directions.

“Strike, what do we do?" Springman asks, looking towards the transforming robot.

“Someone give a call out to the Mechs, they need to see this. Seadragon, you do that. The rest of us, follow me. We need to see how those robots were deactivated." Turboman says, turning towards the broken robots.

As Junkman nodded in agreement, a sudden chill ran down his robotic spine. The sound of laughter filled the air, its origin seeming to be nowhere and everywhere. “Oh hell no." was all Junk could say before the inevitable happened, as in front of the group, Mesmerman slowly shifted into reality. His echoing laughter rang out more as he slowly looked at the team in front of him.

“Hello again Drastic Measures! How nice it is to see you again! “

--------------------

Needlegal led the way, following the signal emitted by the RPD members she brought with her. Other RPD forces had engaged in a few scattered battles here and there. However, there was no organisation to it. No strategy at all.

Something was wrong.

While Needle was concentrating hard on the mission at hand, Snake was concerned for their former leader. He had been mostly silent the entire time.

“You okay, man? You’ve been really quiet this whole time.”

“I really don’t want to talk about it.”

“Because we all have off days.”

“Really, I’m fine. Let’s just concentrate on the mission.”

Snakeman frowned. He knew Shadowman was not fine, but it was his call to make. He decided to survey the area. It was eerily quiet. Every now and then he saw a Wilybot like a MonKing or a Prop Top, but they all seemed zoned out. It was unnerving. He was used to shooting at them, not feeling sorry for them!

Hardman was having similar thoughts. So many bots were dead, but so many others were still alive and completely warped. He kept an eye out for any trouble. But there just wasn’t any. It was surreal.

Before they knew it they were at RPD HQ. Or at least their makeshift HQ. It seemed they had taken over a large apartment building. An ordinary policebot ran up to the team.

“Thank God! Reinforcements! It took a while, but you’ve finally came!”

“Yeah, we’re sorry about the time, but the War’s keeping everyone busy.”

“Yes,” agreed the bot gravely, “the War. We have to be on constant alert for it! I understand. Come in! You’ll be happy to see our progress!”

The team came inside. Only a few of their unit followed, the rest remained outside. The interior was untidy and somewhat crude, but it was effective. “We had to make due once the damned Scissor Joes destroyed our base,” explained the bot.

“Whatever works,” mumbled Hardman. He was fairly impressed with the ingenuity and the speed which they had set up shop. The place may be somewhat rough around the edges, but everything worked. And there seemed to be a very well established system of order. He saw an officer expertly repair a broken computer right before his eyes and was astonished at the versatility of the Officer bots.

“Isn’t that a Wily Joe?” Asked Snakeman, stopping the officer bot as he was leading them through another control room.

“Well, yes. After things went south we had to work together to survive. You know the kind of enemy we’re facing here … we’re all in this together right now.”

“They’re walking around pretty freely.”

“They’ve proven themselves, sir.” The officer bot seemed uneasy. It was like catching someone in a lie. Still, Hardman had to give credit where credit was due.

“Don’ be s’ hard, Snake. We ‘ave friends on ‘th’ oder side too. We’ve ‘one more than ‘r fair share ‘f team ups.”

“Oh, you have, have you?” Hardman’s head jerked around. She was so silent that he had forgotten Amatista was there. “I do not approve, Hardman. Nor do I approve of those Wily bots running ramshod in this RPD headquarters!”

The officer bot spoke in oddly defiant tones, “We are all in this together, ma’am! Things have been crazy around here.”

Amatista sniffed vocally. “It’s bad enough we have to rely on you things to defend us, but allowing Wily’s killing machines inside our headuarters? Unforgivable! Get them out! Get them all out! Right now!”

Hardman tensed. “Uh, y’kno’, ‘e’ve o’ly juz got her’, maybe we ought to let ‘em do this their way…”

“Don’t think I forgot that you’ve just admitted to working with the enemy, Hardman! You don’t want to push it with me!”

Amatista raised her already shrill voice, catching the attention of every robot in the room. “Listen to me right now! My name is Amatista and I’m a registered Watcher. I order you all to get those Wily bot killing machines out of here right now!”

Although the officer bot lacked expression his posture showed his turmoil. It took a lot to push one of these officers to resist a direct order from a superior officer. Hardman didn’t even think they were capable of it. Yet the officer stood straight and spoke in a clear voice. “I’m afraid I can’t do that, ma’am.”

Amatista grinned harshly and pulled out her pad. “Going maverick on me, officer?”

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you!” shouted Needlegal, recognising the situation that apparently went over Amatista’s head.

All noise in the room died as Amatista shut down the offending Officer bot with her pad.

--------------------

The moment was now. Turboman set his sights on the disconnected form before him. He would not let the fiend escape him this time. Mesmerman was going to die today. There was no way around that in Turbo’s mind. Taking no time to issue any kind of orders to his team, he immediately shifted into his car mode and blazed forward, at a good 200 MPH. While he had no words to say, the angry screeching of his tires against the pavement and the deafening roar of his engine conveyed his emotions clearly.

Junkman looked at his leader in disgust. “Damn you! You blind fool!” he shouted, his words going unheard over the noise. There was no way such a head-on attack would do in such a tricky foe as Mesmerman so easily. Everyone else on the Drastic Measures knew that. Turboman was too consumed with rage to consider the facts. Even as he drove up to Mesmerman at such high speeds, it felt to him as if many an eternity had passed, as the laughter echoed about in his mind.

And yet, it was only a second before Turboman had reached Mesmerman. And with the same blazing speeds, he shifted to his humanoid form, and formed a particularly large Scorch Saber… the turbines that made up his wrist began spinning, faster and faster, with the Saber in hand… and finally, with one mighty thrust, he drove the burning Saber into Mesmerman’s face. “THIS IS FOR FREEZEMAN!” Turboman cried out, as he forced the weapon through the monster’s skull. He drove the head far from the body, and forced it into the ground. It felt satisfying, but not satisfying enough… he needed to suffer more pain! Turbo jerked his sword around violently, hoping to rip that face to shreds… but then, it faded into nothingness, along with the rest of Mesmerman’s body. That coward had slipped into hiding again!

Turboman cursed. Shifting himself around violently, he surveyed the area for any sign of Mesmerman. He then turned to his team. “That bastard is hiding,” he said with much scorn in his voice, “so what are you all doing? Look for him, NOW!” The team scattered about in all directions, while remaining close enough so that each of their teammates were in view. They tried to leave no stone unturned, but for the first two minutes, no luck. Turboman was growing impatient. He still clutched his Scorch Saber in hand, and occasionally he would use it to tear through masses of wreckage.

And then, Burstgirl was struck with a blast to her side. She fell back, releasing bombs in every which direction. Everyone’s attention was drawn to Burst, and to her attacker… a Sniper Joe? The Joe jumped to avoid the bombs as they went off, only to find himself trapped in a bubble, alongside another, larger bomb. “I’m sorry, but that was not very nice at all!” Burst stared the Joe in the eye. The Joe only looked frightened and confused. He began to speak. “W-What did I-” The Danger Wrap exploded, and the pieces of the hapless Joe flew outwards, crashing against the pavement of the street. However, Burstgirl didn’t laugh this time.

“C-CARLOS!” Cried out Ol’ Sped. The head of Ol’ Sped’s partner was lying beside his feet. He picked the head up, and saw that the red light of the eye was still lit. “Carlos, buddy… hang in there!” Ol’ Sped pleaded. The situation began to feel all the more uncomfortable for Burstgirl, as she backed away from the Joe, hoping not to be seen by him. The head of Carlos, weakly, began to speak… “Why… why? I was… in a very dark room… nothingness… a cold place… and then, I… found myself… the bubble…” the light of Carlos’s eye then flickered out. His hands shaking, Ol’ Sped’s grip tightened around the head of his companion as he held it close to his chest.

A dark room… nothingness… a cold place? Those words were just too cryptic, especially coming from a lowly Sniper Joe. While Burst had difficulty making sense of it, these words could only reinforce her suspicions that Mesmerman had taken control of that Joe, the one known as Carlos. And yet, she couldn’t shake the guilt. The robotic form of Mesmerman must have dislodged himself from the Joe just as he was being absorbed into the Danger Wrap, and she ended up wasting an innocent life. …Wait, an innocent life? What was she thinking… that “Carlos” was but a drone of Dr. Wily… one of the enemies! And enemies are nothing but prey to her… they were meant to be maimed and tortured! Not befriended… Keep focused, that Mesmerman is the only true enemy here, she tried reminding herself. Silently, she entered a deserted, ruined building. She needed some time to think to herself.

Outside, Cloudman, Junkman, Springman and Turboman continued their search for any sign of Mesmerman. Turboman could barely contain his impatience anymore. “You can’t hide forever!” he shouted into the air. “SHOW YOURSELF, DAMN YOU!” In a frantic panic, he scurried across the area, his sword raised. The other three distanced themselves from Turboman, as they grew all the more unsettled by their leader’s attitude. Cloudman turned to Spring and Junk. “So, like, Turbo’s acting all creepy and stuff. So!” He pointed at Junkman. “You be our leader now!” Junkman stared at Cloudman awkwardly.

“Seriously!” Cloudman shouted. “Turbo is scaring me! He’s gone all crazy. CRAAAAAZY!”

Springman spoke up. “Never in all my years would I have thought I’d say this, but… Cloudman actually has a point. ‘Strike has completely lost it. Junk… as second-in-command of our team, we’d be more than willing to follow your orders from this point forward, should you choose to take responsibility. It’s your choice.” Cloudman nodded in agreement.

Junkman thought for a moment. And then, he responded. “I willingly accept the responsibility of leading this team, at least until Turbo regains his marbles.” It was then that Junkman felt the whole weight of the world fall upon his shoulders. It would be no easy task, but it had to be done. He’d have to manage, no matter what the cost, if he wanted his team to stay alive.

“But…” Cloudman said nervously, “won’t Turbo be mad at us for mutinying?”

Springman groaned. “It is NOT a mutiny. This is only temporary, and it is for the best of all of us.”

“But, but…” Cloudman continued. “What if he takes away my dessert privileges? What if he takes away YOUR dessert privileges?! I’m telling you, he won’t stand for this!” Springman didn’t even bother to question why Cloudman could be thinking of dessert at a time like this. “Look, just be quiet! It will all work out, trust me.”

“Enough.” Junkman ordered. It was then he noticed Burstgirl, who had finally decided to rejoin the team. She was not in good shape, however. There were dents in her armor, wears and tears on her jumpsuit, and the occasional small crack on her gel tanks. And furthermore, mechanical fluids were dripping down her face, which wore a terrified expression. “Cheater… making his arms ‘n legs go all explodey around me… cheater…” She said weakly as she fell to the ground, shaking.

“What in the hell happened to you, Burst? Are you alright?!” a worried Junkman asked. “No...” she responded bluntly. “Dunno what they exploded with. Don’t know… just barely escaped, but, but, but…but…bu…” her voice began to break up.

Turboman then showed up in front of them. “That sicko Mesmerman did this to you, didn’t he? WHERE IS HE?!” Burst, laying flat on the ground, quivering, could only respond with a weakened grunt at this point. Turboman growled in frustration. But they were quickly interrupted by the sight of smiling monstrosity himself, standing before them…

“I must thank you all,” Mesmerman laughed. “Fear, sorrow, guilt, rage, burden, doubt… such negative emotions. You’ve all done well to have satisfied my thirst for power!”

“DIE!!!” Shouted Turboman as he launched a spinning turbine punch. Mesmerman only backed away from the attack. “I must be going now.” Mesmerman said, “Your frozen friend is waiting for me, after all. Ciao!”

“WHAT HAVE YOU DONE WITH FREEZEMAN?!” Turboman demanded. Before he could get any kind of an answer, Mesmerman had already vanished. Turboman cussed once more as he punched the ground in frustration. Junkman took Burstgirl’s arm, which was still shaking, onto his shoulder and pulled her up. “We must rendezvous with the Mechs now,” he said as he began walking forward, with Burstgirl in tow. Springman and Cloudman followed, and were soon joined by a shaken-up Ol’ Sped. Even if Burst was the one who killed his partner, he couldn’t help but feel for her, as he himself had experienced the power of Mesmerman as well.

Cloudman shot a worried look at Turboman. Hopefully he wouldn’t be too upset that he was following Junkman instead of him… even still, Turboman followed too. Between Turboman being enraged, Cloudman doubting Turboman, Junkman facing the burden of being the leader, even if only for a short time, and Burstgirl being… like this, none of the team felt quite themselves. Even the wise Springman found little to do to better the situation. But, they could only trudge forth…

--------------------

The ‘Maniacs took cover behind Hardman, who was trying his level best to try to reason with the now frantic RPD force. They were all taking aim and firing without pause.

“Look, guys … I know how ya feel, but we’re all on the same side here.”

“We do not recognise your authority! Damage to an RPD officer is a federal offence! Resisting arrest is a federal offence! A robot must protect its own life and the lives of its team! Military provision 3891 authorises lethal force!” This statement was issued by a painted-blue Skeleton Joe while he was leveling a machine gun and taking pot-shots at Hardman.

“Smooth move,” scolded Snakeman. Amatista’s face grew red.

“I was fully within my rights!”

“Yeah, I’ll remember that as we’re pulling our broken bits from off the floor.”

“And where’s our people!? Why haven’t they come to our rescue!?” Snakeman grunted in response. She was right … why hadn’t their people come to their rescue? Were they hesitant to attack fellow officers? They were programmed for loyalty, but this was ridiculous.

Hardman was moving backwards, the barrage of bullets doing their job slowly, but surely. “C’n we get outta dodge ‘lready?”

Needlegal nodded. “Right. Shadow, some cover?” Shadowman grunted and threw down some smoke bombs. Hardman didn’t need to be told to use giant Hard Knuckles to throw off pursuit.

“After them!” cried an officer bot. From the timber, Snake suspected it was a retired unit … those things were still floating around. The war had seen many of them reactivated.

The farther they ran the more they noticed an odd …. Stench. But there was no time for analysis. There were officer bots and Joes everywhere! There was no escape at all in RPD HQ! They ran wildy without heed of where they were or where they were going. Shadowman slashed a few RPD bots that blocked their progress with his Shinobigatana. There were so many of them …

“Want to thin out there numbers a bit, Amatista?” Needle half-asked half-ordered. Amatista scowled, but elected to ignore the tone of her voice.

“I’ve been trying to. But the signal was cut out right after I deactivated that first unit.” Needle could only grit her teeth. So, the woman was just a complete hindrance. It figured. “The RPD presence is getting thicker as we go on! They must be guarding an exit! Let’s go, people!”

This announcement spurred the ‘Maniacs on. Retired officers lost their limbs as Amatista disembowelled them without mercy using her thin, deadly wires. Hardman, the humanoid bulldozer, ploughed through officer bots without mercy. Needlegal mowed down what should have been her comrades with a grim look on her face. Clearly she was having mixed feelings about this. Shadowman was fighting well, but at half his usual speed. His sword was doing most of the talking for him. Snakeman could only wish he had his old arm cannon. He shot down his deranged fellow officers as efficiently as he could, but it just wasn’t that effective with so many and in such close quarters.

“Comin’ through!” shouted Hardman as he broke down a nearby wall.

“He’s endangering the humans! Stop him!”

Hardman’s mind spun. Human? He took a look inside the room he had just burst into. He gasped. Needlegal paled and looked about ready to vomit … if she could.

“Monsters,” whispered Amatista. But nobody paid her any mind.

They realised the officer bots were not guarding the exit … it was this room. It was large … obviously it was once several rooms and the RPD had demolished the walls in order to make it bigger. It had several makeshift elevators leading to higher land lower levels. It was dank and dimly lit, but the light from the large hallway outside was good enough to see what was inside of it.

It was a room full of corpses brought to unnatural life. Men, women, and children were all on their feet … with signs of circuitry showing itself in key places. The sickly smell of death was thick enough to cut with a knife. The corpses walked stiffly and with little regard for where they were going.

And all at once they knew what had happened to all the people at Monte Carlo.

--------------------

The Drastic Measures were at the coast now. The RPD troopers stood watch as the team took some time to get themselves back together. “I’m sorry, but we do not have time for this.” Turboman said, sounding quite aggravated. “We need to get the Mechs and find Mesmerman! This is a WAR! There is no time for us to be sitting around like this!”

“Easy, man,” said Junkman, attempting to rationalize. “If we charge into battle feeling all shitty like this, it would be safe to say that we’d have our asses handed to us on a platter.”

Turboman scowled. “I’m feeling fine, thank you very much,” he said with disdain in his voice. “I’ve never been more ready for battle. You know what, you all do whatever the hell you want. I’ll continue the mission myself if I have to!” And with that, he shifted into his car mode and zoomed away, leaving no room for a reply.

Junkman was dumbfounded for a moment as Turbo just up and left his team like that. He then turned to the troopers. There were about 50 of them within the immediate vicinity. Junkman motioned to a good chunk of them, 37 to be exact. “You all follow Turboman, and provide him support as necessary. The rest of you,” He turned to the remaining 13 troopers, “stay here with us. We will join up with them shortly.” With a collective “sir yes sir!” from the RPD troopers, they rushed off to join Turboman.

Cloudman, who was on the ground building a crude sand sculpture, looked up at Junkman. “Turbo’s pretty fast, ya know. Will the police guys ever reach him at that speed? What if he is all alone, scared and shivering…?” Junk could find no answer to this.

“Turbo, you idiot…” Burstgirl muttered, finally starting to regain her voice. She was sitting up, just at the shoreline, allowing the soft tide to brush against her legs. The water seemed to be relaxing her, and she looked to be in better shape now… although, she would still make the occasional twitch, and her face still wore a fearful expression. “Are you feeling any better now?” Junkman asked.

“I’m… not sure,” Burst responded. “The beating he gave me was no problem, but, that explosion…” Ol’ Sped’s face perked up. “You don’t mean… the Black Meteo?!” He cried out.

“I don’t care what he calls it,” Burst continued. “But if I came any closer to that explosion… OH GOD…” She winced just thinking about this “Black Meteo” attack. “What was this attack, exactly?” Junkman asked.

“His arms and legs… they exploded, but, this explosion… I was able to get far enough away from it, but… oh god. Just being anywhere around it! UGH! And watching the poor troopers who got caught in the middle of the blast… OH GOD! I felt terrible enough just being around the blast, but seeing them in it… just…!” Her voice began to break up again. She looked about ready to break down in tears…

Junkman tried comforting his friend by placing his hand gently on her shoulder. She slowly calmed down. “Sorry about that…” Burst said. “But that explosion… just looking at it drove me mad. It felt as if I was simultaneously experiencing all the pains, burdens, and sorrows of every last person on earth, surrounding me, pulling away at me… but I digress.” She then stood up. “We have to join Turbo quickly now.”

“Are you in any condition to fight?” Junk asked. Burstgirl shrugged. “Have to be, like it or not.” Though still shaky, she began walking. Soon the rest of the team and the troopers joined Junkman as he led the way, hoping to find Turboman.

--------------------

“Don’t get it my way!” Turboman shouted out as he found himself surrounded by an overwhelming amount of the Scissor Army’s Sniper Joes. 50? 500? He couldn’t tell how many there were, but there were too many in any case… and to think they were hiding in ruined buildings this whole time, waiting to ambush an unsuspecting foe… but why so many? How could they have hidden themselves so well? This was just too convenient for the SA.

As Turboman gunned his engines to generate enough heat for a devestating Scorch Wheel attack, he couldn’t help but notice that these SA Joes were acting strange… fanatical, in fact. Their movements weren’t like that of the average SA Joe, in fact, it could best be described as an ancient tribal dance, of all things… and then, one of the Joes spoke thunderously. “The Dark Lord hungers still! He demands a bountiful crop! Harvest this one’s soul! Our lord Mesmerman must be satisfied at all costs!” The rest of the Joes brandished their weapons into the air, and soon engaged in what could only be described as a ritualistic chant in some long-lost language. Still chanting, they proceeded to aim their rifles at Turboman…

And now Mesmerman had a bunch of loonies who worshipped him?! Turbo’s contempt for the monster grew all the more as he unleashed Scorch Wheel after Scorch Wheel, melting down the fanatical Joes, one after another. Others, he would smash with his turbine fists, cut with his disc brakes, and slash with his Scorch Saber. Some, he would even outright run over while in car mode. Many fell to the mighty Turboman, however, there were still too many… he couldn’t keep this up forever… as he ruthlessly murdered one SA Joe after another, he suffered many shots and cuts to his armor… how much longer could he go on with this?

--------------------

“His tire tracks end here,” Springman said, while inspecting the ground. The street was littered with the pieces of SA Joes now, and just up ahead, were the RPD troopers Junkman had previously sent to find and assist Turboman. “Any sign of him?” Junkman asked one of the officers. “No sign, sir. However, according to the distinctive burn marks on these remains,” The officer pointed to the charred body of an SA Joe. “It is apparent that Turboman had engaged the enemy in this very spot not too long ago.”

“No kidding,” Junkman muttered inaudibly under his breath. These guys could stand to be a little more helpful, he thought, but at that moment, he noticed another, smaller group of RPD troopers approaching from the side of a building. It was the reconnaissance unit. “Sir, we have located Turboman,” one of the recon troopers spoke up. “He is being held captive by the Scissor Army.” This news was most unsettling to the team, but somehow, it didn’t seem all that surprising to them. “Where is he?” Junkman barked at the officer. The officer motioned for the team to follow him.

Three members of the recon unit lead the Drastic Measures, along with Ol’ Sped, into a ruined apartment building. If not for being ruined, it would have been a nice place at one point… perhaps it once belonged to some rich celebrity, typical of the city. It was dark inside, although the outside world could be seen bright as day through the windows. An officer motioned the team to one large window in particular. Making their way around overturned furniture and a hanging support beam, the team made their way to the window, only to be greeted with a terrible sight…

A clearly damaged Turboman was chained to a street lamp. In front of him, two SA Joes held their rifles to his chin. These particular Joes seemed to be wearing necklaces made from the pieces of destroyed robots, and furthermore, their armor was adorned with a red, striped motif that appeared to have been made with a robot’s synthetic “blood.” The DM were horror-struck. They couldn’t even begin to search for the proper words to express their distress of seeing the man who was once their leader in such a state as this.

“The devil worshippers…” began Ol’ Sped. “They are going to… to…” he couldn’t bring himself to finish the sentence. And the DM couldn’t bring themselves to ask what he was going to say. They could only get themselves together, and formulate a plan to save Turboman… but their train of thought was interrupted by another, more horrifying sight.

Outside, more of the “devil worshiping” SA Joes approached the chained-up Turboman. One of them had his palms extended outward, and resting in them was a robot’s arm, still attached to its shoulder. It was a light blue color, and it shone in the light. The distinctive pattern on the arm resembled that of ice… each member of the DM then let out a collective gasp. “WHA?!” Cried out Cloudman. “THAT’S FRE-” Burstgirl forced her hand over Cloudman’s mouth, forcing him to be quiet. Her hand was cold and now trembling harder than ever, as it kept Cloudman shut up. Springman, in his bouncy body, was now bobbing up and down violently as he kept his sights on the scene outside, and the terrified expression Junkman wore would never leave his face as he watched what was going on.

“A gift to us from the Dark Lord himself!” Boomed the Joe holding Freezeman’s dismembered arm. “Let it be used to better the harvest of tortured souls! For Lord Mesmerman!” Many of the Joes formed a circle around the street lamp, and once again proceeded to chant as another Joe, bearing a combat knife, walked up to the one with Freezeman’s arm. He took the knife to Freezeman’s hand, and began cutting off a finger. Turboman’s head jerked around violently at this gruesome sight, however, one Joe gripped his head, forcing it to remain steady. And then, the Joe lifted Turboman’s visor just enough to reveal only his mouth. A second Joe then grabbed his jaw, and forced it open. The Joe with the knife then picked off one of Freezeman’s fingers, and shoved it into Turboman’s mouth, while the Joe who had secured his jaw forced him to chew.

Burstgirl couldn’t take it anymore. She hastily turned away from the window, with her face burried in her hands. Had she have been a human, she would have thrown up by now. The others weren’t taking the situation any better. Junkman seemed to be holding onto his sanity by a mere thread. He knew something had to be done about this, and fast…

--------------------

Amatista screamed as she sliced a zombie to pieces. There were sick, squishy thuds as its bits hit the floor. If she could, Needlegal would have puked.

“We have to get rid of all this! Attention, everyone in the area!” Needle was now speaking to everyone on the squadron although she was still shouting, “The local Robot Police Force has gone completely insane! We need backup ASAP! Don’t trust anyone in the area!”

A Swat Bot (looking like he’d seen better days) shrilly cired out, “They’re killing everyone!”

A police bot took a few steps backwards, “Lord it’s …. Happening again!”

The zombies looked helplessly and without comprehension at their fallen comrades. And then they turned cold eyes towards the ‘Maniacs. They began to stumble forward, moaning in pain as they did so. The ‘Maniacs collectively shivered.

“I think we need to get out of here,” muttered Snakeman. Shadowman grunted in agreement. Hardman grabbed the still-thrashing Amatista, ignoring her screams of panic.

“Let me go, damn you! Don’t touch me! Don’t!”

“Sorry, we gotta split.”

Needle led the way through the hall until they were blocked by SWAT forces. Their K-9 companions ran towards them menacingly.

“They’re killers! Traitors! How could you!?” The SWAT forces opened fire. Hardman turned his back to protect the still screaming Amatista while Needlegal mowed them down with her Needle Cannon. Shadowman sliced the K-9s in two with Shadowblades. Snakeman let loose a kick from the rear. The zombies were coming closer. Those mindless monstrosities … the RPD in the area were truly mad to have made such things. Despite the hostile treatment, they surged forward.

“Please return to your cell!” pleaded a Crystal Joe, while he formed one of his lethal crystals, “it’s for your own safety!” The Joe let the crystal loose. Needlegal made short work of both it and its creator. The regular RPD officers weren’t hard to knock down, but there was so many of them…

Amatista finally got mad enough to lop off Hardman’s thumb. Hard yelped in surprise and dropped the Watcher. Amatista snarled and ran past her robot protectors.

“’ey! Watch it! Ya might get –“ Hardmnan was cut short as Amatista expertly avoided the fire of plasma and cut the robots to ribbons before their eyes. She then dashed out before any of the ‘Maniacs could follow.

“Well I’ll be…”

“Wait,” said Snakeman angrily, “did she just ditch us?”

Snakeman didn’t have time to have his question answered. In their moment of distraction the zombies managed to surge forward. They clutched tightly with their dead hands at those who would rescue Monte Carlo. A child with visible robotic parts connecting his lower arm to his body gripped Snakeman’s leg tightly. He shivered and gave a small kick. And then a more vigorous one when that was not effective. Those eyes … and that face … there was no soul at all in there. And yet, the Robot Police had repaired the damage and got these sad, pathetic things moving. Snakeman would never forget that face.

Shadowman wondered if the genius chip could have told him exactly how these were made. To his normal intelligence the answer seemed to be that the RPD had installed a robotic “skeleton” … but the grizzly mechanics of it eluded him. He remembered when he could have figured all that out at a glance … he remembered it vividly.

Hardman shut his eyes and fired his Hard Knuckles at the crowd of dead things. The RPD officers from the other side of the hall screamed as if they were the ones who were hit. It was with his palm facing the crowd so that it would cause as little damage as possible to these poor things. Still Hardman winced as he heard the cracking and snapping of bones and wet ripping sounds as the robots bits were torn from their dead bodies.

“KILL THEM!” shrieked a blocky old-style Officer Bot. His companions obliged and fired. K-9 units surged forward, but they were mowed down under the relentless assault of the RPD’s fire. The ‘Maniacs stepped back. Even Hardman could feel those hits now. He could only take so much.

Needlegal grabbed Shadowman’s arm and touched Hardman’s back. “Take us out of here, big bro!” said the prickly robot. Shadowman grunted in acknowledgement and shut his eyes.

A few moments later … the fire from the RPD officers continued without stop. In fact it increased as the superior firepower of the SWAT units were added to the mix. The bots were mostly expressionless, but if they had faces they might have shown pained fury.

“I can’t Shadow Warp,” muttered Shadowman. He had tried to take them out of the building, and then across the hall, but … was there some force blocking his power...

Hardman grimaced. “Then it’s mah turn.” He leapt as high into the air as the building would allow, gouging a hole into the formerly untouched ceiling and came crashing straight down. Everyone stopped dead. The RPD and the ‘Maniacs both came to a halt as a terrible creaking noise echoed in the room.

Hardman grinned. All part of the plan.

The floor gave way and the team, along with some RPD officers were freefalling into the next floor. They hit the ground with a sickening crunch. Although it was dim light filtered through the hole they had created. They didn’t need it to know what was going on, however. Stiff hands grabbed the team of robots. The RPD officers pleaded in darkness.

“I’m sorry. Please. We’re here to help you. Don’t look at me like that.” The robotic officers let out a sob. The ‘Maniacs shuddered while they struggled with the room full of zombies. It looked like the lower levels were crowded with everyone that had died in Monte Carlo. From wall to wall, zombies filled the area. What was more disturbing were the simulated sobs of the officers with them.

Then there was a crash from above. Bits and pieces of officer bots. Zombies were then flung without care into the crowd below. There were screams of fear and the sound of feet running. And then … he came floating down from the hole above. He was muttering something as he came down. Needlegal only caught the tail end.

“But what’s troubling you is the … nature of my game…”

--------------------

Burstgirl stood beside the open window overlooking the scene of the chained-up Turboman. Floating beside her were an uncountable number of Danger Wraps, and she would go on creating more and more, until the signal was given. Cloudman remained afloat near a window on the opposite side of the room, also awaiting the signal, while Junkman stood in the doorway of the building, with his Junk Staff ready. Springman, the strategist, took a good look at the scene, waiting for the right time to give the signal. As the fanatical Joes danced around the street lamp that held Turboman, it soon became clear that they were focused solely on the excavation of Turbo’s negative emotions… that was when Springman gave the signal. “Now!”

Cloudman summoned a gust of wind, blowing the dozens of Danger Wraps out the window, scattering them about the Joes’ encampment. Each bomb exploded, taking the fanatical army by surprise, blocking out their view in numerous clouds of smoke and bursts of fireworks. Taking advantage of their confusion, the Drastic Measures launched an all-out attack – blasts of lighting rained down on the Joes from above, wild coils bounced about the area causing further explosions, and Junkman charged in head-on, bashing Joe after Joe to pieces between the use of his staff, and the Junk Shield fragments that rapidly encircled his body. The mass-production RPD officers joined in the fray as well.

It wasn’t long before the Joes fought back. Each one let out an ear-piercing battle cry as they raised their rifles into the air, then pointed them at the members of the DM. Those who were previously engaged in their ritualistic dance around the street lamp followed suit – however, they were interrupted by another Joe, which may likely have been the squad captain. His armor was painted a striking crimson red color, and he carried around a flamethrower, but most absurd of all was the large mask he wore – it appeared to have been made from the heads of six destroyed Wily Joes, all compacted together, giving it the twisted appearance of a particularly bizarre witch doctor mask, that had six eyes.

“The harvest of this one’s soul must continue on!” boomed the masked Joe. “The ritual must not be stopped until he is but an empty shell of a being! For our Dark Lord, Mesmerman!” The Joes that formed the circle lowered their rifles, as the rest of the army engaged the Drastic Measures. The Masked Joe then signaled to one of his men, who dashed towards a nearby bench to retrieve what looked to be a gasoline container that sat upon it. He removed the cap from the container, and began pouring the liquid it contained onto the ground while encircling the street lamp that held Turbo. Three Joes, one of which held Freezeman’s arm, stood inside the circle of liquid. When all was set, the masked Joe, standing outside the circle, armed his flamethrower, and with that, set the ring of flammable liquid ablaze.

The DM watched in horror as the vision of their leader was blocked out by the ring of flames. “INTERLOPERS! You dare interfere with the harvest?” Thundered the masked Joe, as he raised his flamethrower at the DM. “You will relinquish your souls to the Dark Lord Mesmerman!” He then let loose a stream of fire, further charring the already-ruined area, along with a few unfortunate RPD officers. By now, the DM had cleared out a large number of the SA Joes, however, they were growing even wearier from the fight, and the remaining SA Joes weren’t about ready to give in. The two sides continued exchanging fire, and RPD trooper and Joe alike fell…

Burst, still wounded from her earlier encounter with Mesmerman, incurred the most damage in the skirmish. She suffered several bullet wounds, and slowly, her performance began to decrease, as she grew slower, and weaker, until she fell to her knees… that was when she found about a dozen Joes surrounding her. They weren’t in any position to attack, however – they were chanting, while performing a ritualistic dance. What was with these freaks? Why didn’t they just fire on her like regular soldiers? This was just too creepy… they wanted her to be creeped out, and she knew it. Staggering, she placed her hands together to form a Danger Wrap… but no sooner was the masked Joe standing in front of her, flamethrower armed.

She could not see her team anywhere. Where the hell were they? Could they not see that she was about to become a sacrifice to these fanatical Joes?! Not only would she be forced to die such a humiliating death, but her teammates were too busy to help her out?! What was going on?! “Go on, scream!” Roared the masked Joe. “Feed the Dark Lord!” With that, he prepared to incinerate Burstgirl, however, he was distracted with a shot to his side. It was a weak shot, barely dealing any damage, however, it was enough to draw his attention to the attacker. It was… Ol’ Sped? The chanting SA Joes then turned to the lone Wily-built Joe.

“This is what I have to say to you damned devil worshippers!” Ol’ Sped cried out as he fired a barrage of plasma at the SA Joes. Shrugging off the attacks, the SA Joes let lose several shots of their own, each of which tore into poor Ol’ Sped. “INTERLOPER!” Shouted the Masked Joe, as he joined in, unleashing a blast of flame upon the Wily Joe. This move not only cost the life of Ol’ Sped, but of the masked Joe as well – for as he was occupied blasting Ol’ Sped, he didn’t have any time to take notice of the Lightning Bolt that struck him dead-on. “Yay me!” Cloudman boasted from above as the masked Joe exploded.

The fanatical Joes that had surrounded Burst then turned their attention away from her and to Cloudman. As they let loose their shots, he zoomed around the skies, firing Thunder Bolts of his own, while Burst tossed a Danger Wrap from behind the Joes. Soon enough, most of the fanatical Joes in the area were defeated, while others simply retreated. Burst turned to the charred remains of Ol’ Sped, and uttered a weak “thank you…”

“But what about MEEEEEEEE?” Cloudman pleaded. “I helped too!”

“Yeah… thanks Meta.” Burst responded. “But we still have that to deal with…” She gazed towards the wall of fire that had surrounded Turboman. This was when Springman showed up. Using his signature bounciness, Springman leapt into the center of the flaming circle, in hopes of rescuing Turboman. Cloudman hovered upward to take a look… and he saw that the Joes inside were still intent on feeding Turboman Freezeman’s fingers, as a Joe was holding another chopped-off finger… only this one was on fire. Springman wasted no time to knock the very Joe through the flames with a Rocket Punch, while Cloudman assisted him with a few more Thunder Bolts to the other Joes. With the Joes defeated, Springman picked up the combat knife from the ground, and used it to cut through the chains that bound Turboman. While still standing, Turboman didn’t say a word. He simply bent down, and picked up the arm that once belonged to Freezeman. Somehow, maybe this would help him find the whereabouts of his friend… maybe…

Springman bounced out of the fire, with Turboman, still clutching Freezeman’s arm, in tow. It wasn’t long before Junkman arrived on the scene, now wearing the scrapped armor of the fanatical SA Joes. “The RPD HQ is just up ahead,” he said. “That is where the Mechs should be.” Wordlessly, the battle-worn Drastic Measures followed Junkman to the HQ. As they reached the door, each one of them felt a disturbing chill in the air…

--------------------

The zombie’s stiff hands gripped at whatever handholds in their armour they could as they continued to moan. The RPD in the room shrieked in terror and let loose with a flurry of plasma bullets. Mesmerman looked at them and pointed a finger in their general direction.

Explosions ripped the shrieking robots part and destroyed the zombies in the area. The other zombies howled in what might have been reciprocated pain. The ‘Maniacs knew that they couldn’t win like this.

“Everyone, on Hardman!” shouted Needlegal. It was difficult to get a good grip on the massive robot thanks to the zombies, but they were all in the same area. Mesmerman seemed to laugh. He pointed a finger at them.

Hardman launched into the air – a part of his Hard Press attack. It was then that Mesmeran blew a large, fiery hole where they had once been. He laughed madly. “It’s so good to see you all again! It really has been too long. The General’s been having all the fun lately.”

The apex of Hardman’s launch brought the team out of the hole he had created earlier. Needlegal used her spiked mace to get a grip onto the floor above and she held on for dear life as the combined weight of their team came bearing down on her. She was just glad that Hardman had stopped his thrusters from activating because the force of that would have torn her arm off. As it stood it was severally strained.

Mesmerman regarded them coldly. Flames had caught on below him and the zombies whimpered in …. Did they feel pain? It was hard to Say. Mesmerman seemed full of glee. The flames below him made him even more menacing than usual. “What? Nothing to say to your old friend?”

“I got som’thn,” said Hardman, who angled himself to face their old foe. “Eat Knuckle sandwich!” Hardman pressed both hands together and launched a double Hard Knuckle at the grinning fiend. The recoil launched the team well into the room above and the landed hard right on top of each other. They quickly got to their feet and took a look around. The place was deserted, but it was a mess. Pieces and body parts were scattered everywhere. It looked like Mesmer cleaned house when he arrived.

“Where is that guy?” asked Snakeman while looking around. He was answered by a giggle from right behind him. Snake didn’t even have time to turn around, Mesmerman struck him with his scythe and launched the serpentine robot well across the room and through a wall on the far end of the hall.

The team fled while Mesmerman laughed. “We’ve got to get to outside! We can’t fight like this!” yelled Needlegal. Hardman had been left behind. He didn’t like to run from a fight and he couldn’t keep up with the others even if he tried. Instead he took aim with his left arm and fired.

Mesmerman seemed to jump in front of the attack before it hit him and struck Hardman in the gut with the top of his scythe. It shouldn’t have hurt Hardman too much, but it did. And it left a nasty looking dent. Mesmerman glanced behind him to see Hardman’s knuckle returning to its master. With a small laugh Mesmerman grabbed it and launched it right back at Hardman. It hit him like a ton of bricks before reattaching itself automatically. Hardman groaned and got to his feet.

“Don’t tell me that was too rough, Hardman. After all … we’re just getting started here.” Mesmerman gave a small, shrill laugh. Hardman grit his teeth. He hated this guy. With a loud yell he drew himself up with surprising speed and launched himself at Mesmerman to give him a good old fashioned right hook.

The next thing he knew he was outside the building with Shadowman and Snakeman looking over him. “Are you all right there?” asked Shadowman. Hardman blinked.

“He … actually launched you at us. You hit Needle and went through a few walls before landing outside.” Hardman looked behind him. There was a huge hole in RPD HQ right beside the doors. There were also the remains of their squad. Either Mesmerman or the local RPD presence had finished themselves off. Likely the latter … the local RPD had gone nuts.

Hardman was about to ask how Needlegal was doing when he heard her curse loudly. She had her porcupine armour out and was firing wildly at a laughing Mesmerman. He had split up into many parts and was easily evading Needlegal’s Needle Cannon attack. He was going so fast that he even seemed to disappear.

“Damn it, this isn’t fair!” she wailed. She was then struck from behind by Mesmerman’s head.

“Life isn’t fair, sweetie!” Mesmerman struck her multiple times with the orbs that made up his body and then quickly reformed into a single entity who held his syth up high. “But it looks like yours is over!”

“NEEDLE!” shouted Shadowman, springing into attack. It looked like Needle’s weapons was the only one with a prayer of hitting Mesmer, but he scolded himself for taking a breather while Needlegal was fighting. Hardman and Snakeman shared similar thoughts. They were close by, but it seemed much too far away to do anything useful.

Mesmerman laughed as he lifted his scythe high into the air.

And he was hit by an unseen bolt of lightning. He was thrown off Needle and he gave a grunt. Who did that?

Mesmerman was hit by another bolt of lightning and a Scorch Wheel. He looked around in confusion for a moment and blasted a ray of energy from his scythe into the general direction of the attack. He was so busy doing so that he didn’t notice Springman until he was literally right on top of him.

“Hey, whitey! Remember me?” said the robot. Mesmerman looked annoyed and flew up into the air. Springman leapt off at the last moment and Mesmerman was hit by Cloudman’s Thunder Beam. Mesmerman shrieked and flew into Cloudman’s direction. He saw his prey.

“I’m sorry, but this is a private party!” said Mesmer. Cloudman made a blocking stance, ready for a frontal assault. But then Mesmerman somehow got behind him and struck him with a powerful bolt of energy. Cloudman got a grip and saved himself for a rough landing with only a second to spare. Mesmerman leisurely followed him downwards. The ‘Maniacs had him surrounded, but Mesmerman was not afraid at all. In fact he was laughing.

“My, my, my! I haven’t had this much fun since I started my little adventure in this town! It’s nice to have lively enemies … it’s been so very long!”

“The Hell you say!” spat Cloudman, “We’ve just faced you a few days ago!”

“Did you? I guess it just slipped my mind. You guys aren’t exactly memorable you know.” Turboman tensed in his hiding spot. What a thing to say!

“What’s the deal, Mesmerman?” yelled Snakeman, “This doesn’t make any sense at all! How does driving everyone in town insane further the Scissor Army?”

“Including your own guys!” Cloud was quick to add, remembering the creepy cult-like force of Scissor Joes they stumbled on. Mesmerman just giggled and split into several floating balls.

“That’s my secret,” he said coyly. The group scattered to avoid Mesmerman’s many parts. They blew out chunks of concrete as they hit the pavement. Hardman wasn’t fast enough and was rewarded with a nice round dent in his lower leg. He launched a Hard Knuckle at the ball to shoo it away, but it ricocheted off his hand and came in for another dive.

Snakeman was using odd contortions to avoid the speedy balls after him. He kicked and tossed them out of the way as best he could. And he was faring the best. Shadowman was doing slightly worse. He was struck squarely in the back and an audible snapping was heard. As he got back up Shadowman’s legs twitched visibly, however his mind wasn’t dwelling on that.

“What was that? What did you say!?”

Mesmerman’s attack seemed to stop for a brief moment before resuming again. “I said you should watch your back!”

“No!” said Shadowman loudly, while using a Shadowblade to deflect Mesmer’s attack. “No, you said it was a secret!” Needlegal’s and Snakeman’s eyes widened.

Mesmerman sighed audibly. “Oops. I guess the cat’s out of the bag.”

“What?” said Hardman slowly, “Whadya mean by ‘dat?”

Hardman was struck – Hard – by multiple Meser-spheres at once. “You don’t catch on too quick do you?”

The group gathered together as Mesmerman’s spheres all started swirling in one area. It was soon replaced by a large, dark, whirling mass of dark energy. Mesmerman’s voice changed in pitch. Soon the energy vortex faded away and was replaced by a skinny man in a cape floating in midair. He had dark hair and carried a wooden staff with a purple jewel placed at its top end. His eyes were closed and he wore a merry smile. Cloudman and Hardman gasped in surprise. The other ‘Maniacs merely grit their teeth.

“If you guessed my name was ‘Mesmerman’ you’re wrong! But thank you for playing our game!”

“Xelloss,” hissed Snakeman.

“The one and only.”

--------------------

This whole situation not only confused Junkman, but it also confused the other members of Drastic Measures. They never really had to deal Xelloss before.. That is, until now.

“Can you at least explain yourself here? Why are you doing this?" Turboman asks.

“I sure can..” said Xelloss with a smirk. He leveled his staff at the group and took aim. They scattered as he bagan firing. “You see, the creature known as Mesmerman is remarkably to the Mazoku race: We prey on the negative energies spawned from not just you guys, but those negative energies from my old friends, the Mechs. He does the same thing. But, he can’t do this.” In an instant, Xelloss changed shape, transforming himself into a whirling mass of dark, demonic energy. Xelloss then sped towards Needlegal and Turboman and they barely dodged in time. The whirling mass of energy resolved itself into Turboman and he shot at Cloudman and Springman with small bursts of magical energy laughing all the while. Unable to dodge so many, they put up their arms in a defensive posture and took the damage head-on.

Junkman chimed in. “That’s good and all, but what gives with the landscape? It looks like an atom bomb hit here and blew it to hell.”

After briefly becoming a whirling mass of energy again Xelloss was back to his normal self and disappeared. He reappeared right behind Junkman and spoke into his ear. “You see, this is what Monte Carlo looks like 30 years into the future.” Xelloss then struck Junkman from behind, sending him flying across the field. Hardman caught him using a Hard Knuckle. Bits of his armour had scattered along his flight path. Everyone was shocked. Both at Xelloss’ ruthless battle tactics, but also at this new revelation. Yes, there was damage, but …. 30 years into the future? Springman was the most confused about what Xelloss said. “Wait a second. You mean this is the future? This doesn’t make sense!” Xelloss gave a little laugh and reappeared beside Springman whom he kicked into a building. Springman tried to bounce back at him, but Xelloss had disappeared. It was actually Needlegal who spoke.

“Oh, but it does. Just look around you. None of this is possible in just a few month’s time. The barrier that prevented us from teleporting in …. Xelloss, you’ve set up some sort of time field around the area, didn’t you!?” Xelloss laughed from everywhere.

“Correct Ms. Needle! You see, I was curious about the Scissor Army and this little war they started. So I thought I’d step right in and play the part of Mesmerman. For a time I led the Scissor Army presence here just as Mesmerman would. And to make sure the real Mesmerman (or anyone else for that matter) wouldn’t disturb us I created a time dilation barrier not only to keep the riff-raff out, but also to keep everyone I wanted in. It also let me move at my own pace without worrying about how long this war might actually last so it speeds it up in a proportional rate to normal time. Even though you've spent several hours here, I think less than a minute has passed in normal time. With this field and warp barrier, I could play my own little game. A game where I was the hunter and my prey was just about everyone in the city. It wasn’t easy to turn the simple-minded robots here mad... It’s my greatest feat. That was, until now. I let your group and the Maniacs in here so I could have some new prey for my little game.” This statement was followed by Xelloss’ own self-satisfied laugh. It gave the group of cops chills. They really were trapped. Just like ‘Ol Sped they were now subject to the whims and fancies of the trickster priest. He had let that transmission reach them in order to draw them in. Maybe he sent it to all participants of the war, or maybe the Wily bots in the area really had sent it to everyone themselves. It didn’t matter. Xelloss was just toying with them and there wasn’t anything they could do about it!

Turboman wanted to ask why Xelloss could do such a thing … could he really be so cold as to drive everyone mad just for his own self-satisfaction? … but that was before Cloudman, who wandered off unnoticed while Xelloss was busy with the others chimed in with an observation. Something in the city wasn’t destroyed. Something pretty out of place for an area torn apart by war for the last 30 years.

“Guys, you gotta check it out. The power generator’s still up and running.”

“You gotta be kidding me! Hey, just where are you, Cloud!?”

“Just down a few blocks! You gotta check this out!”

Xelloss reappeared. He was floating in the air and wore an embarrassed expression. It seemed he had heard their conversation.

“My, my, my … I have been careless and let someone wander off. Care to wager on who’ll get to Cloudman first?”

“Don’t you dare you bastard!” yelled Bustgirl. It didn’t matter, Xelloss had dissappereared as she was talking. In moments Drastic Measures and the Mechanical Maniacs were racing towards the power station.

“I’m sorry guys, I can’t keep up!” shouted Hardman after the team.

“No worries! Just hurry!” shouted Needlegal back to her friend. The teams were desperate. What could Xelloss be doing to Cloudman? He could be there already!

The teams knew exactly where to go. They had all downloaded a map of the city before they left and, while much had changed, they doubted the power plant would be in any new location. It was off in the industrial area, quite a ways off. Cloudman could fly, but it was likely he corralled a car to make it to the remote location in time. The cops looked around and managed to commandeer a few vehicles from a squad of local RPD officers. Needlegal radioed the rest of the forces they brought with them and told them to meet at the power plant. This is where it would all end!

While they were running, Junkman had been thinking on why the generator was left untouched. He spoke over the communicator. “Guys. Something tells me that this generator helps power this field. I don’t care how powerful he is, there’s no way Xelloss could hold it up himself without it imploding on him when he’s fighting us or hunting some other poor ‘bot. That’s why there was still running after 30 years of war. By using the generator, he could power this field for days, months, years, decades, hell... He could have it run for millennia if wanted to.”

“Makes sense, if you ask me.” chimed in BurstGirl. “But, what does this guy have to gain from all of this?”

Shadowman darkened. “He’s a Mazoku, remember? He’s not human. He feeds on negative energy. Monte Carlo is his idea of a feast. And his idea of a good, fun filled time.”

The teams' thoughts were cut short by screams over their communications channel.

“Cloudman!” screamed Turboman in fear and anger. It couldn’t be happening again! The teams urged the cars they drove faster. They just couldn’t arrive soon enough …

--------------------

The team arrived at the power plant. It was filled with the sounds of battle. They rushed through the gates of the facility.

The machines were running, but the place was a mess. The parts of robotic workers were strewn across the area. Walls were blasted down and computers had been destroyed both recently and during the years of war. They heard the sounds of battle clearer now, but it was still far below them. They ran to the staircase.

Like most generators, this one was kept far below, in case of disaster. Unlike the General’s super powered fusion reactor this was a more traditional nuclear facility. Needlegal shuddered. If they had to destroy it they may not get out in time. It might not wipe out a large area like the General’s facility had (it was deep underground), but it was still much more than they could survive. And no Flashman to bail them out this time either.

It was achingly slow, but the elevators didn’t work. They didn’t trust the landing to chance, so it was the stairs. Still, the agony of not knowing …

Police bot bodies were now found everywhere. New bodies. These were the officers they had brought with them. They didn’t need to guess when they found the right floor, the wall had been demolished. And, besides, it was as deep as they could go.

Turboman switched to car mode immediately. “Hang on, buddy, I’m coming!”

Burstgirl screamed in frustration. “Turbo, wait!” Too late. He had left.

The teams raced after the distraught leader. Burst shook her head. They all felt Freezeman’s loss, but none of them ran off like Turbo did. He was going to get himself killed.

She gasped as her point was made for her. Turboman was casually flung into the wall by the demon priest and fell to the ground. Xelloss smiled.

“You’re late!”

He was suddenly right in the middle of them. Xelloss casually knocked Needlegal and Shadowman aside and focused his aim on Springman. Springman was frozen in shock. Xelloss smiled and powered his staff more slowly than he had to.

Springman was saved by Snakeman who got him out of the line of fire. Not that it did much good. Xelloss had reappeared before them and blasted a string of small shots at the pair of robots. They screamed in pain. Snakeman had lost a leg in that assault and that was a fatal wound in a case like this.

“Oh, my! Am I being too rough?”

The RPD in the room opened fire on the robot. Explosions roared. These SWAT and retired officer bots were on the right side this time and they confidently kept on shooting. They did not know Xelloss. In the midst of being shot Xelloss appeared from behind the crowd and blew them away with a mighty explosion. Parts were strewn over the room. Xelloss laughed. This was too easy! None of the inhabitants here had the clout to stand against an enemy like him!

He did, however, feel it when Junkman’s fist collided with the small of his back. “You’ll pay for what you’ve done to us!” shouted the robot. His armour was enormous! It was made up of all the RPD officers that had fallen so far. It was as thick as he could make it. He thought he weighed about as much as Hardman. He continued to pound at the demon priest.

Burstgirl was searching for Cloudman while the rest had surrounded Xelloss along with more RPD officers. Some standard officers had found him.

“I’m sorry ma’am,” said the officer. Burstgirl fought back tears. Cloudman had a nasty looking hole in the middle of his body. He sizzled. Burstgirl realised that Freezeman was probably not ever here … that all that was just an illusion made by the evil monster. But this was something he really did. They just might have lost another team member.

Burst heard a loud crack. “No…”

Burst felt small debris hit her as a louder explosion lit the room. Junk had fallen. His pieces were everywhere. Junk’s main body had lost most of its armour and an arm, which Xelloss was holding.

“You bastard.”

“*tsk, tsk, tsk* Mr. Junkman. Now you’re just being a spoil sport.”

Xellos was jumped by Shadowman. He had managed to get behind the demon and he drove his Shinobigatana deep within his body. It stuck out at the other end. Snadowman snarled in rage. Xelloss had gone too far! He usually just played harmless pranks, but now …

“Mr. Shadow, you should know that that …” Xelloss casually snapped the blade of the Shinobigatana in two and punched Shadowman off him. “you cannot harm me in the slightest.” Xelloss followed up with a swift kick to the ninja robot who did not manage to dodge in time. Shadowman simulated a cough. That had damaged his internal circuitry. Xelloss was about to deliver another blow when he was pelted by Needlegal’s needles and a flurry of plasma bullets from the officers crowding the room. Their forces had been depleted, but the rest were steadily gathering in the area. Another squadron had entered the room during the battle.

Before the smoke cleared a renewed Turboman leapt into the dust, launching a Scorch Wheel before him. “Walk away from this, bastard!”

Turbo was sent flying into a group of standard officers and Xelloss was shooting the whole group from out of nowhere. Nobody was spared and they all called out in pain.

Needlegal was tossed into a wall. K-9 units, barking helplessly were destroyed with a swipe of the trickster priests’ hand. Burst felt her arms shatter as Xelloss appeared behind her and ripped both of them apart. Retired officers were decimated right alongside the few Neo officers assigned to the group by their chief. Turbo was targeted again and felt his wheels melt as even greater flame than his scorched his metal. He was blinded, his visor had been blackened by soot. And he now had trouble moving as most of his internal wires had melted. Shadowman was not spared either, he had tried attacking with a hologram for a diversion. No good, the priest knew he was on the rafters and blew him down before his attack had even begun. Needlegal felt pain as she was sliced in half. As a robot it didn’t kill her, but she was barely conscious.

Xelloss laughed from everywhere. “Oh, my! I must say I did not expect to have to do this. I had hoped we’d have many years together. The current residents of Monte Carlo have grown a bit … vanilla … I was hoping to continue this fight for a long, long time. But I guess even a guy like me can’t always get what he wants. And, who knows...maybe one of you will survive this little encounter!” He laughed again.

And then he screamed. Alarms blazed in the plant. Xelloss screamed again and he fell to the floor. “What’s going on?” said the monster, clutching his head. The alarms continued.

WARNING! CONTAINMENT BREACH!

“But …. Who?”

It was Amatista who answered over the RPD’s internal line. “Everyone get out! We’ve destroyed the power source!”

“You!?” said Needlegal in disbelief. Hadn’t she run away?

“I couldn’t let you things take all the credit. I found Hardman and we made our way to the core while you distracted Xelloss.”

“’s more like I found ‘er. Xel musta r’placed the Nu’lear core o dis place, ‘cuz what we blew wuz nuthin’ like any nu’lear stuff I ‘ever saw. Still, lez not hang ‘round here.”

“Right,” stammered Needlegal. She was losing consciousness fast. “Everyone … time to go.” She could see robots flash into nothingness and felt an officer grab her. Her last view was of Xelloss, still huddled on the ground, clutching his head. Obvious he was still in pain.

“So after all that …” he said with a small smile, “It was that human girl and the big guy who took me down. I gotta say I didn’t expect that.”

And then Needlegal too was taken away.

--------------------

Turboman awoke in the repair bay at RPD HQ. He had not known how much time had passed since his encounter with Xelloss… that which melted him apart from the inside. He still could not move, but he could see once more. Out the corner of his eyes, he could make out an unconscious Cloudman, as well as an unconscious and unarmored Burstgirl, who was in the process of having a metallic skeleton of an arm attached. Groups of men and women in white labcoats, along with medic bots, surrounded the team, making repairs and adjustments as needed. Turboman was soon greeted by Dr. Matthew Sonderham, the RPD scientist charged with overlooking the DM’s upgrades, as well as their repairs.

“My team…” Turboman spoke weakly. “Are they…?”

“They are all here, undergoing repairs,” Dr. Sonderham responded. “Suffice to say, all of you will be out of commission for the next few days or so, with the extensive damage incurred from the last battle. However… we here are putting it all into your repairs, and we promise to have you all back up and running within the week. Because, after all, you guys are an asset to our forces.” An asset? Did he seriously mean that? Especially after all their failures on the battlefield? Nevertheless, it at least felt reassuring to hear somebody in the RPD speak to them with a hint of respect, as opposed to the usual insults such as “INFIDELS” and “things.”

“What about the Mechs?” Turbo spoke up again.

“They’re in the same boat as you guys,” Sonderham replied. “Hopefully, they should be up and running just as quickly.”

That was reassuring, but even still, something still pulled at Turboman. With much hesitation, he spoke up once more. “What… what about Freezeman?”

“We do not have any information regarding Freezeman’s whereabouts. I’m sorry.” Sonderham responded bleakly.

“But… those monsters had his arm!” Turboman raised his voice. “Have you retrieved it? Answer me!”

“I’m sorry to say this,” Sonderham stated, “but Freezeman was never in Monte Carlo, in any form.”

“His arm was! They took it, and they… they…” Turbo’s voice broke up remembering the horrific events he had to endure at the hands of the fanatical Joes.

“If Freezeman’s arm was there, the scouts would have retrieved it, no questions asked.” Sonderham paused. “More likely than not, it was one of Xelloss’s illusions. If anything, he could have used the arm from a fallen Joe, or even that of one of our own officers, to aid in the illusion.”

Turboman felt ill. He couldn’t even think of exacting his revenge upon Mesmerman, or Xelloss for that matter, at this point. All he needed right now was rest.

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The Mechanical Maniacs had just finished being “congratulated” by the chief of police on their victory. Or rather Amatista and Hardman were finished, the others were too damaged to hear what Crorq had to say and had gone straight to the regeneration chambers. Which is why Crorq had taped everything and left it to run when they first woke up.

Taken together, Hardman supposed it was a win, whatever Crorq felt. They couldn’t kill Mesmerman because he wasn’t there. Not their fault. But they did defeat Xelloss. Although most of their troops had been destroyed, there was now a more solid RPD presence in the area.

What would happen to the insane RPD troopers? Were they going to be shut down straight away? Or were they going to be reprogrammed and re-integrated into the Force. Who knew?

“G’night ‘matista,” said Hardman as he climbed into the regeneration chamber in the Medical bay. She merely grunted in response.

Amatista stayed for a while after Hardman had gone to sleep. These … things seemed to have saved the day this time. And what had she done? Just panicked and ran off, that’s what. She behaved the worst out of them all. It was shameful.

And the worst part was that, in the end, all that chaos wasn’t even caused by a robot. She had stayed silent as Crorq “congratulated” them on their wasted effort and the record time their mission had been completed in. It was right … this was a complete waste of time.

In the end though, Amatista realised there really was something worse than robots out there. And that troubled her.

End

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