By C.M. Rich (Magnetman)
May 30th, 20XX, 7: 47 AM , Pacific Standard Time
“Ahh, sh-…It figures! It friggin’ figures!”
Hector Garza muttered loudly as he climbed out of his
somewhat rusted, yet-usually-reliable Ford Torino. Already late for
work, Hector spent weeks just finding a job after being laid off from
his former factory- he certainly didn’t need to be late on his
second day.
Cursing under his breath, he hastily slammed the door
of the old tan car and walked to the back end to inspect what he already
knew to be a flat tire. Making matters even worse, he no longer had
a spare tire, being that the last owner lost it, sold it, or destroyed
it. In any case, Hector would have to hunt down some way to get to work,
hopefully only a little later than he knew he’d be.
As he crouched down to look at the shredded tire, he
heard air escaping the tire on the other side just before that too popped,
followed by the remaining pair in short order.
Garza grimaced while looking confused. He didn’t notice any hazards
on the road behind his car- no glass, spike strips…Nothing. There
weren’t any bullet holes around, either. He wouldn’t be
blamed for suspecting someone from shooting out his tires in this city.
After all, Los Angeles was
rather infamous for its abundance of crime, petty and serious alike.
But this was just strange.
As Hector was walking around his car, he spied another
strange phenomenon- this one coming towards him. It looked like a
heat mirage, actually- a common sight during the summer, as the sun
warmed the dark pavement to over one-hundred degrees.
But…This was early spring. At only sixty-three degrees, heat
mirages just…didn’t happen.
“…H-hey…?”
The phenomenon swept over him as quickly as he saw
it- the last thing he’d see.
May 30th, 20XX, 8: 12 PM , Mountain Standard Time
“Th-thank you! Thank you!”, the middle-aged mom nervously
said to the hulking, 14 foot tall tank known as Hardman as he handed
over her only child of sixteen months.
“No problem.”, he shrugged before heading back to the burning
building from which he had just emerged. He didn’t have time to
bathe in praise, not that he did so very often; The brush fires here
in New Mexico were
keeping the Mechanical Maniacs busier than the lack of crime back home
in
“Monsteropolis”. This particular fire swept in overnight,
catching most of the town residents of Los
Alamos by surprise, stranding many of them within their
homes before they had the chance to escape.
“You’d think that someone like Windman would have
an easier time with this!”, shouted Geminiman as he shot
at the base of some flames with his Gemini Laser, blowing out
the ground and extinguishing a little bit of the fire. “Why
is the only team without a fire or wind-based guy here doing something
like this again?”
Shadowman emerged from the fire, using the tails
of his scarf to help shield an unconscious victim of smoke inhalation.
“Because wind spreads fire. And fighting fire with fire
usually just means more fire. And besides, we’re on call.
No other team can say that.”
Gauntlet handed off the sleeping victim to ClassiCal-
the resident medic of the team, who quickly checked the young
man for serious injuries.
“This one will be alright!”, she claimed as Shadowman
disappeared back into the burning halfway house for more survivors.
A radio signal burst into Shadowman’s ear as he searched
the volcanic-like hallways of the near-collapsing building.
“One more. Two doors down, on your right.”
“Thanks, Raj.”, Gauntlet responded with, neither of
them really thinking twice about the nickname used.
Inside the room was a cowering little girl, no
more than six years old. She seemed to be even more scared of
the dark ninja Robot Master than the flames, though.
“Hey, don’t worry. I’m one of the good guys.
Let’s get you out of here, okay?”
The little girl shook her head weakly at first.
Then a steel beam crashed down in the adjacent room, shaking the
entire complex and scaring her in short order. Hesitantly, she
offered her hand to Gauntlet, and he quickly scooped her up and
started running out of the door towards safety.
The beam must have weakened the floor, as Shadowman
only got a few steps into his jaunt when everything finally collapsed
around him, sending him and his now-screeching passenger down
towards certain burning death below.
Fortunately, the very concept of “team” means you’ve
got seven other people looking out for you. Gauntlet shouted to
one of those onlookers as he was saved by a third body that grabbed
him and the screaming child and hoisted them up.
“Thanks, Needle.”, he coughed, the smoke from below
entering his nostrils.
NeedleGal simply smiled as acknowledgement, received
the girl from Shadowman, and helped him back to his feet.
“Is that it?”, she asked aloud.
“As far as I know.”, Snakeman confirmed from his vantage
point a few blocks away, where he was using his dozen Search Snakes
to comb over the entire town faster than normally possible.
“Hah! If I didn’t know any better, I’d say we
managed zero casualties this time!”, Lennon gloated, a few
burn marks apparent on his otherwise pristine armor.
“Magnet and Top?”, Gauntlet asked bluntly, ignoring
his teammate’s claim.
“The Sugar Rush Kid and Hop Along Kassidy are across town
at the front of the fire, putting it out. Somehow.”, Geminiman
sneered, knowing a certain name in that sentence would enrage
one of his least favorite comrades.
A large crash from across town acknowledged the “somehow” part,
as half a building was dumped onto the flames, seemingly by magic
force.
“I think they’ll manage.”, Shadowman suggested. “Let’s
get these people to the hospital. Hardman?”
Hadrian appeared from another burning building
empty-handed, double checking for more survivors. “Yeah
boss?”
“Clear a path for the ambulances, would you?”
“Sure thing.”
Lennon mouthed the words “boss”, his lips curled over
his teeth in disgust as Hardman got to work using his Hard Knuckle
to clear burning debris from the road. In a matter of minutes,
EMTs were at work, piling variously injured people into ambulances
as quickly as possible to avoid being caught at the center of
the town for very long.
A half hour later, Topman rejoined the rest of
the team, his body a little charred, which annoyed him to no end.
He brushed it off as best as he could and enveloped his body in
his ironically flamed-themed leather jacket.
“How’d it go over there?”, Shadowman asked the
Spinning Demon.
“Oh, just great. It was extra fun working with someone who
just picks up tons of steel to drop on a fire WITHOUT checking
first. He almost squashed me a million times or so.”
“So…The fire’s out?”, Lennon smirked.
“Yes. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m in serious
need of a shower.”, SD groused, his usual upbeat personality
overshadowed by a day of death-defying labor.
As Topman skated off, Magnetman finally rejoined
his teammates. His entire body was covered in soot and caked-on
debris, with parts of his outfit melted to his frame.
“Oh no! Hun, are you alright?”, the team “mom”,
SparkChan ran over.
“I’m fine.”, he whispered.
“Kenta…A bit too reckless out there, I see.”,
Gauntlet began to scold.
“I did what needed to be done.”, the blackened android
countered with.
“I think you did what needed to be done in a reckless way,
then.”
Kenta remained quiet as Classi started peeling
away the more damaged layers of his pseudo-skin. Lennon, looking
more than a little angered by what he perceived as Kenta being
a baby, shoved him out of the way and presented his elbow to SparkChan.
“Hey! I’ve got injuries too, you know…”
“Hmph.”, Magnetman grunted as he wrapped his body
back up in his poncho. Wordlessly, he teleported off.
Gauntlet sighed. “That kid…He’s gonna get himself
killed.”
“Or worse,” Geminiman chimed in as Classi meekly tried
to reject his advances,
“he’ll kill one of us. Great job on hiring that guy,
by the way.”
Shadowman narrowed his eye at Lennon, who took
cheap shots on the aloof ninja whenever the opportunity presented
itself. Gauntlet normally ignored the quips, but shots on his
leadership skills were especially annoying. Tired, however, the
cyber shinobi wouldn’t give Lennon the argument he wanted,
and followed Kenta’s example, teleporting off.
“Heh.”, Geminiman muttered.
“You shouldn’t be so hard on Gaunts or Ken, Len. They
had just as tough a day as you.”, Classi maintained.
“And? Bad leadership or poor teamwork is never excusable.”,
the mirrored terror frowned.
“Then I suppose you’re inexcusable.”, NeedleGal,
in a fashion akin to her brother, seemingly appeared out of nowhere.
“Care to repeat that, Needle B-?!”
SparkChan stepped in between the two feuding Maniacs
before Lennon could follow up his insult. “Guys! C’mon,
now…It’s been a long day. Let’s just go home, ‘K?
I think a good night’s sleep will do us wonders.”
NeedleGal and Geminiman stared at each other over
SparkChan for a few moments.
“…You’re getting off lucky. If I hadn’t
hurt my elbow, you’d be scrap without
‘big brother’ to help protect you, little girl.”
“Keep it up, pretty boy.”, Needle continued to challenge.
“Problem?”, Snakeman chimed in as he returned from
a final sweep of the area. He was reloading another magazine into
his rifle…just in case.
“…No. There’s no problem, Snake. We were just
going home. Right, Needle?”, Geminiman said, a bit quieter
than usual.
“…Right.”
“Good. Then let’s get out of here.”, Raijin
nodded, knowing he had to stop yet another one of Lennon’s “contests” before
it got out of hand. He gave Lennon a warning glare from under
his scaled helmet as a silent warning.
Classi nodded to Snakeman as a sort of silent “thank you”,
then teleported off, followed by Geminiman and Needle. Hardman,
returning from a last sweep of his own, met up with Snake.
“Huh, like a buncha kids.”, he observed, to which
Snake agreed with a nod. “Is it me, or are we just not gettin’ along
like we used ta?”
“You'd know better than me, but I think it’s the same,
more or less. I think our new ‘cop deal’ has us a
bit over worked, so we’re all a bit pissed.”
“That’s true…I haven’t been to my bar
in two weeks. Hope Gag n’ Cassandra are runnin’ things
a’right back home.”
“I’m sure they’re fine. But…If you want,
I could put them under surveillance for you.”, Snakeman
offered.
“Nah, its a’right. I trust ‘em enough.”,
Hardman sniffed, a bit of soot finding its way into his nose.
“Fair enough…How’re the roads around here?”
“All clear for the demo crew, providin’ th’ fire
stays out long enough for ‘em to tear it down. Ain’t
nobody gonna be here for a few days, though.”
“Not our problem.”, Snakeman said. “Alright,
let’s go home, big man.”
“Cool.”, Hardman nodded before activating his teleport
beacon. In a flash, the 4 tons of steel that made up Hardman was
gone- a technological magic trick unimaginable only a few years
ago.
Snakeman was just about to do the same when a…feeling came
over him. It prompted him to look to the West, towards the mountains.
Though he could see nothing out of the ordinary, aside from obvious
fire damage, something told him there was something going on far
away in that direction. He shook the feeling quickly, however-
he did get leftover interference from his Search Snake signal
on many occasions.
Snakeman left Los
Alamos the same way his friends had.
May 31st, 20XX, 3:28 AM , Eastern Standard Time
“…It’s a most…tragic day…In United
States history…An unparalleled attack has been perpetrated on
our own soil. A terrorist act like no other before it…Words cannot
explain our…grief…anger…sense of tragedy…but
above all, our desire for justice…This WILL NOT go un-punished…”
“And there you have it…The press conference from earlier
today as President Weaving addressed the attack on Los Angeles from
this morning, which left the City of Angels completely decimated, with
millions lost, presumably dead. We here at MMN are still in a state
of shock over what can only be called an act of cowardice. We’re
still without answers at this hour, but every single one of our resources
is hard at work, attempting to find the truth behind this horrible incident.
Stay tuned for more cover-“
The automatic timer for the television kicked in, shutting
off the news cast abruptly. Nobody seemed to care at this hour within
the Maniacs’ HQ, as the man previously watching the television
was fast asleep on the floor in front of it, having lost consciousness
midway through his DVD, bottle still clutched in his massive hand.
Everyone else, even Gauntlet, was fast asleep after a
particularly difficult day of putting out yet another brush fire in
the West. Nobody felt like watching the news, suffice to say.
Hours later, something stirs the massive Hardman from
his semi-drunken stupor.
May 31st, 20XX, 7:14 AM , EST
“H-huh…Whossat?”
Silence. Hardman listens intently for a few seconds before
assuming it was nothing but his imagination. He slowly leans back to
his former horizontal position.
Until the loud “boom” resounds. Hardy gets back up, clumsily,
and starts walking around the many chambers of their lair, deducing
the source of the noise is emanating from outside of the base, rather
than within.
“Do you hear that too?”, a much more energetic SD asks his
house-sized compatriot as he descends the stairway.
“Yeah…”, Hardman says, looking up at the ceiling. “Like
some kinda hailstorm.”
“Its not a hailstorm.”, Gauntlet proclaims as he drops from
a shadow on the ceiling.
“Then…What th’ hell is it?”
“A riot.” He warns. Before the other two Maniacs can question
that statement, the sound of a very heavy, thick front door crashing
to the floor, accompanied by the angry shouting of hundreds of human
voices, agrees with Shadowman’s observation. “Get everyone
up and out of here…NOW.”
Gauntlet double taps the spot on his hood where his ear
would be, activating a signal. The den area of the base goes into lock
down, buying the Maniacs more time before the angry crowd broke through
that as well.
The three scramble through their comrades’ resting quarters, stirring
them rudely from their slumber and dragging them to the teleportation
chambers within minutes. Aside from Gauntlet, there were seven confused,
nervous faces within the room, as the sounds from the riot grew closer,
announcing that they had breached the haphazard inner security doors
as well.
Gauntlet punched in a quick set of coordinates on the
machine as the others took their places in the chambers. Jumping inside,
Shadowman quickly tossed a few Shadow Blades into the console of the
machine, destroying it as he evaporated along with the other Mechs.
Though they were gone now, the riot still tore through
their sparsely-decorated abode, ripping through entire walls, smashing
furniture, and crushing any electronic device before the police finally
arrived to diffuse the situation with tear gas, rubber bullets, and
pepper spray.
After a few hours of combat between the police- the Mechanical Maniacs’ recent extended teammates- and the flustered citizens,
the officers finally cleared out a now-decimated Maniac HQ.
The captain of the squad strode over the inches-thick
layers of debris before arriving at the teleportation chamber. Taking
one look at the main IBN-brand console, he sighed.
“They’ve escaped…Tell the Chief.”
“Yes sir.”
The captain was alone in the room, looking at the cut
and burnt console, as well as the smashed teleportation chambers.
“I’ve bought you some time.” The captain mumbled to
himself. “It’s up to you now, Shadowman. Don’t let
me down.