Orchestrated By C.M. Rich (Magnetman)
By Cyros
[Stage 7, Pre-Scenario
E]
The Wily’s Warriors moral was at an all time low. And Starnik had no
idea of how to fix it. They all lounged around their dank quarters,
listening to the footsteps of Scissor Joes outside.
A quick head count gave him six members besides himself. Ben wasn’t
coming back. Cyros was off in the corner, staying absolutely still,
as if he was more machine than alive. Everyone else was just in a foul
mood, despite the fact they still kicked ass during their last mission.
Starnik sighed sadly. The War was finally getting to them. And now
it seemed that the General had practically won. Now what was going
to happen to them?
“Starnik?” The scarlet robot turned and saw a diminutive Naoshi. He
seemed uneasy, a rare emotion from the childish robot master. “What’s
gonna happen now?”
He didn’t have an answer for his naïve friend. “I don’t know.”
“Well this is just perfect.” Shadowstrike stood up and waved his arms
around. “Here we are, just sitting here while the whole world gets
owned by the General. And look,” he muttered, pointing at Cyros, “Crazy
Lady here is off in zombie land the whole time! I just have to say,
what gives!?”
“He’s been like this for... days now,” mumbled Akutare. “And I’d hate
to say it, but we’re not so hot ourselves.”
“Yeah, being holed up in here isn’t really that peachy right now,”
replied Darksage.
Starnik furrowed his brow in thought. The whole mood of the situation
was making it hard to think, to plan. Nothing came to mind at the moment.
And time was running out for them.
“Hey, Boss.” Starnik looked up at the source of the voice. It was Iga,
the resident giant. “Do you have any ideas?”
The speedster growled, yet kept his cool. “No, Iga. I don’t. I don’t
have anything to work with right now, so I can honestly say, I have
no idea what to do.” He paused, then sighed angrily. “Hell, we might
as well give up.”
“We can give up when we’re dead.”
Everyone did a double take at the source of the voice. From the far
corner was Cyros’ prone form. Only it wasn’t so prone anymore. His
head was lifted up... and his eyes were no longer blood red and emotionless.
He was smiling too, something rare even before the business with the
War.
“Holy crap, he snapped out of it!” shouted Shadowstrike. Fortunately,
the Scissor Joes were out of earshot at the moment. They would not
come in to see what was happening. “Hey, Cyke, what was up with you
the last few weeks?”
Cyros shrugged. “Just out of it, I guess.”
“Then what exactly got you ‘in’ might I ask?”
This time, Cyros smiled. “I had an epiphany.”
“Oh, cool!” Naoshi paused for a moment, then asked, “what’s an epiphany?”
“It’s... not important right now.” The blue time stopping robot stood
up and stretched his limbs. “But I can see you’re all having a hard
time right now.”
“No shit, Sherlock.”
“Easy there, ‘Strike. I just wanna help out.”
Starnik smirked. “Well now that you’re back to normal we have one less
thing to worry about. I guess that’s a start.”
“Glad I could help.”
“Well now, if we can just think of a-” A soft tapping caught Darksage
off guard. He leaned toward the door and asked, “Hey. Somebody there?”
“Hey, Warriors. This is Riff. We gotta talk.”
One by one, the Warriors looked at one another. They knew of Riff,
but not personally. They were both in the same boat really, being forced
under the General’s service due to Wily’s capture. Just what did he
want with them?
“Er, give us a minute,” informed Darksage. He turned to Starnik. “So...
should we talk to him?”
Starnik thought for a moment, and then looked at the Warriors for input.
When they provided nothing relevant, he turned to the last person in
the room; Cyros. “Well... trust this guy or not?”
“He’s one of Wily’s creations... and he’s never given us a reason NOT
to trust him.”
“Point taken.” Strolling to the doorway, Starnik opened it slightly
and peeked at the Fatal Five member. “Okay, talk.”
As the two robots conversed, Cyros thought back to his mental experience.
Harrowing as it was, it did indeed open his eyes. All this time, he
was indeed being selfish. He couldn’t really think of a time he didn’t
think about getting his own body back, as if it was all that mattered.
At times, it WAS all that mattered.
That didn’t apply now. His body was gone. Though he grieved, he could
not, no; he would not allow it to stop his resolve. When he got involved
in this war, he made a promise to himself, to not abandon his friends.
And damn it, he was going to stick by his promise even if it killed
him. For good this time.
It didn’t matter if he was not in the body that was his birthright.
He was alive. He could help others. And that mattered. It was not his
body that made him who he was; it was his soul. No one, not Wily, not
the General, not anyone, would ever change that fact.
Now, Cyros was ready to right alongside his friends. To give it his
all. And by whatever deity you prefer, he was going to kick major ass
while doing so.
“Yippee-ki-yay, motherfucker” indeed.
[Continued in Scenario E]
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