From on High
Cain The Wanderer
Shitposter no more
- Joined
- Oct 2, 2014
- Messages
- 909
- Likes received
- 33,683
And so... we come to an end for Volume 9 of Legends. Enjoy the finale and leave a comment or two.
Inside the Beetle Battle Base, Misao rubbed her right eye as she scanned a map of Echo Creek and the detailed points of every attack by the Magnavores since Monday's brawl at Britta's Tacos.
It felt like she'd been glued to this seat for days straight, compiling data, running simulations, and cross-referencing every bit of information that was fed to her from the Beetle Battle Base's magical computers and the information collected by everyone else out in the field. This was on top of work she'd been busy with on the hardware side of the base, making modifications during her downtime between skirmishes with the Magnavores.
All her hard work would be rewarded, soon enough.
"Almost done…" she murmured, stretching her arms high over her head, spine popping. "Then maybe I can go home and play some games…"
From the hallway came a cheerful sing-song voice.
"Hey, girlfriend~! I come bearing gamer fuel~!"
Mabel strode in with two violently fizzy drinks sloshing with unholy color. In one hand she carried a tall glass of violet soda glimmering with edible glitter, ice cubes made of fruit punch and lemonade, and a handful of gummy Parasaurolophus floating inside. A marker doodle of Misao smiled from the glass's side.
Misao's eyes lit up. "Ah, my love!"
Mabel set the glass beside Misao's keyboard like she was delivering a gift from the gods.
"Just how you like it," she said proudly. "Grape energy soda, glitter sugar, tasty ice cubes, and your favorite dinosaur!"
She lifted her own red concoction in her other hand, which contained blue and purple cubes and gummy Apatosaurus instead. "Enough sugar to power a city and enough caffeine to wake up Cthulhu!"
Misao took a sip and her pupils dilated. "Ooh! I feel awakened already!"
Mabel leaned her hands on the back of Misao's chair, resting her chest on her head as she peered at the swirling projections on the central screen.
"So, what have you been up to?"
Misao, reenergized, tapped a few keys. "A few things all at once. First, I'm completing the counter-strategy for Barla, now that we've got Nano's comics. Second, I'm charting every Magnavore appearance since Monday and comparing them with magical and spatial distortions to hopefully track their movements. And third…"
She smiled proudly and turned to Mabel.
"I'm updating the Battle Base to interface with modern tech and the internet! I have already connected a router down here from the surface, but it is only the start! By this time next week, it'll sync with our phones, play our playlists, and stream cat videos in 4K. I'll be able to stream from here if I want!"
Mabel blinked. "You are so scary-smart and adorable and I wanna kiss you forever."
"Rain me with kisses," Misao replied, sipping again. "For I have earned them!"
Mabel leaned more fully over Misao's chair, casually drumming her fingers along the backrest. Her weight pressed gently against the back of Misao's head, and her eyes were suddenly narrowed with purpose as she scrutinized the map like a psychic trying to read tea leaves.
Misao, mildly muffled, tilted her head back to press her face further into Mabel's chest. "What is it?"
Still staring intently at the screen, Mabel murmured, "If you connect the dots… it kind of looks like a kitty."
Misao blinked, squinting at the screen. "Huh… it does! Those are the ears, and that's the little tail…"
At that moment, Dipper walked up beside them, holding his journal, with Janna trailing behind carrying her smartphone and a mostly-eaten churro.
"Misao, you ready to call it?" Dipper asked, glancing between the screen and the two girls.
The smaller girl lit up and her hands flew across the keyboard. "Yep! Let me just save my work!"
Janna yawned dramatically. "No rush. I'm not in a hurry to get the Graveyard going."
Misao turned in her chair slightly. "I have connected a router in the Beetle Battle Base."
Janna stopped mid-bite of her churro. "I am now in a hurry to get the Graveyard going."
Mabel was just as hyped. "I can stream makeup tutorials too!"
Dipper winced. "Hey, be careful about social media while we're down here."
Janna nodded, already scrolling. "I privated all my socials. But don't worry, I have seventy alternative accounts."
"Ja, me too," Misao said. "I stream from home, which is safe, but we don't need to alert people we're here. Not unless we want another Goblin to show up."
A flicker of tension rose in the room at the mention of that name.
Since Reiko's report of the sword-wielding mercenary showing up to the ex-Vanderhoff house, there'd been no sign of him. He was only in it for the money, but there were still bruised feelings.
Some worse than others; Star still planned to blast him into a crater Yamcha-style next time she saw him.
With her work saved, Misao stood up, still sipping from her sparkling, gummy dinosaur-filled drink. "All right, my love, let's go home."
Dipper gave her a look. "Mabel Juice this late?"
Misao raised the glass. "I'm still streaming tonight. There is much Destiny and Street Fighter to play, and it's not even nine."
The moment she stood up, Janna slid into her seat like it was a throne. "And now that there's internet down here, I'll be tuning in live."
"If you do, I'll make you a mod."
Janna grinned, eyes gleaming. "You promise too much power. My reign shall be great… and terrible."
As if the universe itself had heard her threat, alarms blared through the Battle Base, cutting off the moment.
Everyone jumped.
Dipper turned toward the main screen. "Wait… again?!"
Misao darted back to the console. "Pull up the map!"
"On it," Janna said, already typing fast.
The map on screen zoomed in to highlight an area of El Sereno, which lay to the southwest of Echo Creek. Police scanner chatter burst through the speakers.
"985 at Huntington Drive North and Castalia... repeat, 985 at Huntington Drive North and Castalia... armed assailants at El Sereno Night Market. Suspects ID'd as Typhus and Noxic." A female dispatcher reported above overlapping responses from other police units.
"Come on!" Mabel cried. "Do they even sleep?!"
Dipper grimaced. "They're definitely not concerned about our schedules."
He looked at Janna. "Who's on deck?"
"Star's off duty, and Marco's turned in with her. Last I checked in the group chat, we still have the Beetleborgs and Jackie online."
Mabel was already on her phone, dialing. "Leave the organizing to me."
She grinned. "Brophades, you got the Scissors?"
Dipper produced the Dimensional Scissors. "Let's get to work."
"All right, guys, ten minutes to close. If you're not buying, start packing it up and go!"
Heather's announcement jolted the customers lounging at Zoom Comics from their comic book consumption and who would win between The Hulk and Blood-lusted Howard the Duck discourse. Grumbles and and laments about the store being better when it closed at ten rose up.
Heather heard that. "Hey, don't make me get Big Nano from the back."
Among the rustling of comics being put away and bags of snacks being discarded, Drew was reading the latest issue of Invincible.
Man, I am glad I'm not as big with Invincible as I am with Beetleborgs… I'll take the Magnavores over ROBOT any day. He thought with disgust at what he read.
"Hey, Drew, you'd better start packing up," another guest and one of his classmates, a smaller bespectacled boy with fluffy caramel-brown hair and an extremely nerdy aura, called over to him.
Drew lowered his book. "Huh? Oh, I'm helping close… have a good night, Tim."
"Huh?" Tim looked at him then over at Heather, who smiled in Drew's direction.
He grew confused as he returned to Drew. "Aren't you…?"
"Aren't I what?" Drew asked.
The young man paled slightly, self-consciousness and a fear of misreading the room flashing across his brown eyes. "Uhh… forget I said anything, goodnight!"
Hoisting an oversized backpack onto his shoulders, the boy retreated out of the store.
Confused in turn, Drew shrugged his shoulders.
Heather read the vibe as she rested her elbows on the counter. She was already done breaking down the café and all that was left was to count her register.
"Wow… school's been out all week but word's getting around," she noted with a smirk.
Drew blinked owlishly at her, before it finally clicked. "Wait, about me and Sabrina?"
Heather chucked. "I don't think you're the invisible nerd anymore, dude. You're gossip material now."
Drew closed the Invincible book and slid it back onto the shelf, still trying to process Tim's reaction. "How do people even know? I haven't told anybody."
Heather gave him a long, knowing look. Then sighed in mock exasperation as she leaned against the counter.
"Sabrina Backintosh is a cheerleader, remember?" She said, counting out coins with one hand as she spoke.
"She may be the cute, quiet one, but the rest of them? Please. They'll talk about every little thing,especially when one of them snags a decent boy."
Heather calling him decent warmed Drew, reminding him of his crush on her.
No, wait… he was about to go on a date with Sabrina. He could not be thinking about that.
"Heh… I guess it hasn't really sunk in yet?" He said, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck. "School's been out for a few days, so…"
Heather watched the last customer trudge out then leaned back on the counter. The clock said she still had a few minutes before she could lock the doors, but nobody else was coming in.
"Well, think of it as moving up to the big leagues. You're one of the popular kids now, showing up dripped out to dances, stepping to the rich kids like they're punks, and dating cheerleaders."
She chuckled. "All you need now is a nice car and an Insta, and no one would believe you're the same humble dude who knows exactly how Doom would beat Batman."
As expected, Drew latched onto the last part. "Right! Doom's machinations are such that even if Batman manages to be triumphant, his victory will only come about in a way that will somehow further Doom's overall villainous schemes."
"Exactly," Heather agreed, grinning. "Advantage, Doom."
They both laughed. And for a moment, it felt like they were back in the simpler times before monsters, mayhem, or mixed-up feelings.
"You know," Heather added, settling into her register count again, "I hung out with Sabrina the other day. Right after it popped off at Britta's."
Drew perked up. "Wait, you did?"
"Mmhmm." She smiled to herself. "I didn't realize she was so into you…"
Drew did a double-take. "W-what?!"
They'd had a good time at the dance, sure, but this?
Heather gave him a knowing smirk and started counting bills, once more one-handed. "It surprised me, too. She's really excited about hanging out with you, and I'm just like… 'It's been a week, bro, chill.'"
She giggled. "Buuuut… then she told me something. And I totally got it."
Drew waited for her to go on.
She didn't.
He gestured, eyebrows raised. "Well…?"
"Nope!" She sang. "It's not my story to tell."
She rested her chin on her palm and gave him a warm, almost teasing smile. "It's nothing bad or weird… but it's very you."
Not even a month ago, Drew would've assumed "very you" was code for "nerdy, awkward, or not good enough."
Maybe even a week ago.
"Thanks," he said after a moment. "To be honest, I'm kind of surprised you're… cheering me on here."
Heather blinked. "Why wouldn't I?"
She gave him a look so direct it almost made him flinch. "You're a really sweet guy. And the idea of you dating the one nice, pure girl in Brittney Wong's Viper Pit is both hilarious and possibly the best karmic justice I've ever seen for all the crap Trip and Van put you through."
She paused.
Drew, picking up on that shadow in her tone, simply nodded.
To say nothing of how your father treats you.
His old crush on Heather tugged at the back of his mind, a quiet ache beneath the surface. And now, as she smiled warmly and talked him up like he was someone to root for… it struck him.
There was a distance forming between them.
No…
It had always been there.
Even in her kindness. Her eager comic talk. Their lunch date. The way she never quite brushed him off, but never quite invited him in, either.
She was friendly, she always has been.
But not open.
Not interested.
And now, hearing her build him up for a date with someone else, he couldn't ignore that space anymore.
Has she just never seen me as someone she could date?
That voice in his head that always second-guessed himself whispered the thought he didn't want to admit had been there for a while.
His smile faded, just a little. Not all at once, more like a slow drift, as if the weight of something unspoken had crept into his chest.
As Heather saw it slip, her own smile dimmed too, quiet and tentative.
The silence that followed was brief in real time, but it felt longer. Like the pause between heartbeats when something important lingers in the air, just unsaid.
"… You good?" She asked, gently.
There was a flicker of concern in her voice, that she'd poked something delicate. "Did I say something wrong?"
Drew blinked and gave a soft, startled laugh. "Huh? No, no… I'm… heh…"
He looked away, eyes on the Image Comics rack but seeing nothing. "… I'm just not used to getting gassed up like this, for real."
"Well…" Heather brightened back up with him. "… Get used to it dude. Without the Vanderhoffs giving you crap, you're starting to really come out of your shell."
She leaned in slightly, playful now. "At this rate? Between dating Sabrina, Janna obviously being into you, and maybe even Brittney herself starting to look your way?"
She gave him a look that was half-mocking, half-impressed. "You're basically turning into Blue Beet."
Drew's jaw dropped.
The reminder that his favorite Beetleborg was knee-deep in a chaotic story arc, with at least three love interests pursuing him, hit him like a pipe wrench to the soul.
"Whoa, whoa! I am definitely not that guy!" He stammered, a nervous laugh bubbling up.
Heather burst into giggles, thoroughly enjoying the reaction.
"I dunno~" she sang.
Just then, Drew's phone blared to life with the unmistakable electric guitar riff of Spider-Man: The Animated Series.
The abruptness of the sound made Heather flinch. "Dude, that is so loud. Sick choice, though."
Drew felt a chill; it wasn't from the ringtone, but what it meant.
No… not again.
He checked the screen. Mabel was calling.
"It's Jo," he said, forcing calm into his voice. "Probably wondering where I am."
He answered casually, "Hello?"
"Hey, Drew," came Mabel's voice, unusually direct. "Where should I open a portal for you? It's going down in El Sereno."
Drew's mind whirled. El Sereno? Why there?
"Uhh… the usual spot," he said, standing up. "I'm at Zoom, but I'm heading out now."
Heather pouted theatrically. "Not gonna help close up?"
He gave her a sheepish look, mouthing, "Sorry" before talking into his phone. "Yeah, I'm going right now. Bye."
By the time he ended the call, he was already halfway out the door. "Thanks! I'm sorry! I'll see you later!"
With that he dashed out into the night.
Heather watched him go, the doorbell jingling in his wake.
"Bye…" she murmured, more softly this time.
The shop grew quiet.
For a moment, Heather stood there, alone behind the counter. She looked down at the stack of bills in her hand, then slowly lowered her head.
The bills in her hand crinkled and folded as her grip tightened so much her hand trembled.
Her entire frame tensed up, as she slowly drew in a deep–shaky breath.
She shut her eyes… held it in.
Then she exhaled quietly.
And with that breath, the moment passed.
Her composure returned, like a mask settling gently over her face.
At that moment, Nano stepped out from the back, looking around. "Did he really leave?"
Heather turned with faux indignation. "Yeah, looks like we're not getting free labor tonight, Big Nano."
"Don't joke like that," Nano huffed, then wagged a finger. "You know I pay him in whatever books he wants."
Heather giggled, eyes twinkling again. "How about paying me in whatever books I want?"
"No way," Nano said flatly. "I know what books you want. You'll take your twenty-two an hour and like it!"
Heather gave a mock-dramatic sigh. "Fine!"
"All units responding to the 985 at Huntington Drive North and Castalia be advised: SWAT has been mobilized and all other units are to establish a perimeter and prioritize evacuation and exclusion."
The dispatcher's voice crackled through the cruiser's radio, nearly drowned by the howl of sirens and the rush of wind outside. Officer Boxter Hamdon and his partner Jeb Wackerman sped through the night in their new black-and-white, joining a fast-moving procession of units from Echo Creek PD, LAPD, and the County Sheriff's Department.
Jeb leaned forward, glancing at the GPS, then at the streaking emergency lights ahead. "So, it's just like over at Britta's. They're really gonna just leave it to the kids again?"
Boxter's hands flexed tighter around the wheel, the leather creaking faintly under his grip.
"It's not right," he muttered. "We're supposed to just sit back and let the kids handle it?"
Jeb shifted in his seat uncomfortably. "Well… I mean, I dunno. Maybe we have to? It's not like we can fight the Magnavores without getting smoked. And they said they can't not fight them."
He glanced out the window. "… And maybe brass is hoping Star will clean this mess up after, too."
He tried to keep it light, but the more he talked, the more he could feel the heat radiating off his partner. Every word made Boxter's jaw clench harder.
"Putting this on them because our hands are tied is one thing," Boxter growled. "But if we start using that as an excuse to take advantage of them…?"
He looked straight ahead, voice low but cutting with fury.
"I'll turn in my badge on the spot."
Jeb didn't respond. He wasn't sure if he should.
A fireball erupted ahead, lighting the sky in orange and red. Officer Hamdon slammed the cruiser to a halt just shy of the established police perimeter, eyes wide as the plume rolled upward.
The pop-pop-pop of automatic gunfire reached their ears a second later.
Both men were out of the vehicle in an instant, joining the chaos at the perimeter beside an unmarked Echo Creek Police cruiser. Just past it, uniformed officers scrambled to reinforce the line with riot shields, body armor, and rifles at the ready.
Detectives Xavier Bishop and Mirai Hashimoto were already on the scene, coordinating with officers from the other agencies. Hashimoto was shouting and relaying orders into her radio while Bishop was already motioning SWAT units into tighter formation.
Beyond the line, less than fifty yards away, was complete mayhem.
As civilians fled behind them to safety, guided by other officers, SWAT units from a half-dozen departments, covered behind armored vans and trucks, were pouring bullets into the night market and at Noxic.
His Scabs were taking a beating, the volume of fire enough that head shots weren't uncommon and some dropped to begin decay as they fired back wildly with their sword guns.
Noxic, on the other hand?
He was dancing.
The Combat Mecha Army General, fresh off surviving his last gruesome defeat where he was completely bisected just hours before, was back in one piece. Umbrella in hand, he was kicking his heels as he pranced about overturned food carts and flaming awnings like he was on Broadway.
"I'm singin' in the rain… just singin' in bullet rain~!"
The notes came out butchered and off-key, but Noxic couldn't care less. He spun around a busted tent pole like a stripper with a death wish, umbrella slashing through the air as 5.56mm rounds pinged uselessly off his metal body.
Boxter was baffled. "He's enjoying this."
"No kidding," Jeb muttered. "They're unloading on him like it's free bullets at range day and he's singing!"
Bishop lowered his radio shut and turned toward them. "We've got to keep the civilians clear and contain the spread of this mess until the 'kids' show up."
Hashimoto added darkly, "And hope this mess doesn't go out of control."
Boxter grimaced again, before a radio call came in.
"ECPD 004, are civilians clear of the area?" Dispatch radioed.
Detective Bishop grabbed his radio. "Civilians at the Night Market are clear and accounted for."
"Understood."
A tear gas canister launched from one of the SWAT officers ricocheted off the dreadlock-like pipes sprouting from Noxic's head.
The mechanoid stopped mid-twirl and turned, offended.
"Hey! You mook!" He shouted, pointing an accusatory finger with all the drama of a stage diva. "What the heck's tear gas gonna do against a robot, huh?!"
He shouldered his umbrella like a baseball bat.
"And you made me lose my place! I don't usually come out and sing for you people, so how about a little respect for the arts, huh?!"
A Black female Echo Creek SWAT officer called back from behind her shield. "Uhhh… what do you mean 'you people?'"
Noxic physically recoiled, umbrella lowering slightly. "What?! I meant humans! You're humans, right? I hope so!"
He pointed around frantically. "I mean, if you were all a bunch'a robots, then I'd feel bad about mashin' you into paste!"
An awkward silence fell as the officers gawked at Noxic.
Then, as if to reassert his dramatic momentum, Noxic clapped his fingers. "Forget it! Let's just get back to the violence already!"
At that very moment, dispatch radioed Bishop and all other officers.
"All units maintain a minimum radius of seventy-five yards, heavy ordinance inbound."
Bishop gave a jolt of surprise. "Heavy what?!"
Hashimoto called out. "Everyone back up, now!"
As the police did just that, a barrage of gunfire slammed into the pavement around Noxic, peppering him with kinetic and explosive force strong enough to stagger and finally knock him flat.
"Wh-what the heck was that?!" He shouted, scrambling to his feet.
He looked up and spotted it: a sleek, tail rotor-less attack helicopter looming overhead.
It had a long, narrow body, short angular wings folded downward at the tips, and smaller canard wings near the nose.
But Noxic's eyes locked on one thing: the 30mm chain gun pointed directly at him.
"… Ah."
The QAH-50 Hammerhead Unmanned Helicopter opened fire again, and was joined by a second circling craft, both dumping their chain guns onto Noxic and the Scabs.
As the heavy chops of both weapons and the thunderous roar of their shells filled the air, the police officers broke into ecstatic cheers.
Boxter exhaled hard, tension falling from his shoulders like sandbags. He reached for the brim of his hat, eyes fixed skyward.
"… Finally," he muttered. "So that's what she was up to…"
Beside him, Jeb whooped, both fists raised. "YEAH! WOO! GET SOME!"
But Detective Bishop didn't cheer. His mouth was open in horror.
He watched the carnage, eyes darting to the police and civilians watching, the burning structures, the flying debris.
This wasn't just force. This was overkill.
With that notion, he realized what was about to happen.
"Oh… fuck."
Hashimoto looked around in confusion. "What's going on? Who sent gunships to…?!"
She stopped, her own eyes widening as she realized what her partner had.
"OH FUCK!" She screamed with greater urgency into her radio. "ALL UNITS PULL BACK, PULL BACK!"
At the Beetle Battle Base, the urgency over the scanner struck like a fist to the gut.
That wasn't fear in her voice from surprise, it was recognition.
"What's going on?" Dipper asked, voice tense.
Janna searched her phone for any live coverage of the incident. "They're turning up."
In the back, Mabel placed her hands over her mouth. "And we just sent the Beetleborgs there…"
On scene, the barrage ended and the dust began to settle.
Noxic stood beneath his now-tattered umbrella, the smoldering wreckage of food stalls and vendor tents casting flickering shadows over him. His trench coat was shredded in places. One of his eyes flickered erratically, a spiderweb crack split across its casing. A rivulet of something black and oily ran from his shoulder joint.
And yet he was in high spirits.
"Geez," he muttered, voice metallic and warped. "Did I finally get Six Stars?"
When he looked up through the torn fabric of his umbrella, Noxic noticed a strange glow flickering in the night sky.
"Huh?"
Tilting his head, he moved the umbrella aside and tried to focus on a single, blazing magenta light shimmered high in the night sky. It pulsed with menace, and grew larger with every passing second.
"Wait," he murmured, confusion creeping into his voice. "That ain't the Prin…"
Twin lances of searing magenta energy screamed down from the heavens, hammering into the ground on either side of him with thunderous force. The intense heat and energy immediately incinerated his coat, and began to melt parts of his body.
And then the two beams converged on him, fusing into a singular column of destructive brilliance that slammed into him with a howling roar.
It didn't just strike, it drilled. The asphalt beneath the Night Market liquefied, then vaporized, opening into a glowing, molten pit.
Every nearby surface, every food truck, vendor tent, and canopy still standing combusted instantly in an expanding firestorm. Everything that still stood within thirty yards of ground zero was swept away completely like dry leaves in a hot wind.
Further back than they had first started, Boxter, Jeb, and the Echo Creek Detectives gawked at the overwhelming smite. The heat rippled off the street like a blast furnace, every building within a block lit up in flickering violet hues and windows vibrated in their frames.
On the opposite side of the Night Market, the Beetleborgs stood slack-jawed in horror.
"WHAT THE FUCK?!" Jo screamed, arm raised instinctively against the light.
"Ayo, are there still people over there?!" Roland shouted
Behind his visor, Drew's face was pale. His lips barely moved. "N-no way…"
That kind of power looked like it came from Star's wand itself.
"… Is that Major Blast…?" He breathed, stunned.
For ten excruciating seconds, the sky itself screamed, the roar of the attack drowning out sirens and shouts, and drawing eyes from five neighborhoods over.
Then, darkness.
A deafening, sucking silence blanketed everything as the beam vanished and the light snapped away.
The air stank of scorched plastic, melted tar, and the gut-wrenching chemical cocktail of vaporized fuel and carbonized insulation. Flames licked upward from a crater so deep and wide it looked like a meteor strike. Steam hissed from molten rock and shattered sewer lines below.
And at the bottom of the pit lay what remained of Noxic.
Barely more than a carbonized skull and upper torso, his once-gaudy trench coat now tatters of scorched fabric fused into his warped plating. His limbs had been vaporized below the elbows and knees, and his head—cracked, blackened, melted—resembled a burnt human skull more than any mechanical design.
"G-geez… heh… heh…" his voice croaked, heavily garbled through failing circuits and a crushed voice box. "I h-hate… th-that… b-bum… Vexor… was r–r-r-r-rrrrr-right…"
Above the carnage, silhouetted by the lingering smoke and refracted heatwaves, hovered his attacker.
Tara.
Major Blast II.
Encased in her bulky green powered armor, steam rising from her still-glowing beam cannons, she floated like a demigod of judgment and wrath.
Beneath the green glazed protective dome and the armored, pink-visored purple helmet beneath it, she smirked down at what was left of Noxic as he disappeared in the tell-tale flame of teleportation.
"… Really? That's all it took?" She scoffed.
At the Beetle Battle Base, Dipper, Mabel, Misao, all crowded Janna and her phone, staring at the image of Major Blast blasting Noxic.
"Whoa… she actually whipped the Major Blast suit out…" Janna said.
Misao was aghast and furious. Not just at the potent display of power, but also because she knew exactly why it happened.
All because they saw through her.
Mabel, hands still over her mouth, was looking more at what she hit. "… She… didn't kill anybody with that, did she…?"
Dipper reached for the console and keyed the radio. His voice was quiet, shaken.
"… You guys need to leave, now. I'm opening a portal."
As Drew, Jo, and Roland received his message, Tara turned in the air to face them.
Behind her mask, she sneered when she spotted the Beetleborgs gawking up at her.
"You had your chance," she muttered, unheard by anyone else, her voice petulant and cold. "You could've become real heroes if you just joined me."
The portal opened behind the trio.
Stingerborg hesitated. So did Hunterborg.
Strikerborg's hand moved toward her Input Magnum, fire in her posture.
Tara's sneer deepened as Stingerborg reached out and gently grasped Strikerborg's shoulder.
"But all you are now… is unnecessary."
Reluctantly, all three Beetleborgs stepped back through the portal and vanished.
"That's what I thought," she spat.
A vile pulse of magenta-colored energy flashed from the center of her chest, through the lines of her armor out to the extremities. Her lips peeled into a slasher's smile, Tara raised her head and screamed as that energy glowed brighter.
"I'M THE ONLY HERO THIS CITY NEEDS!"
What an unpleasant person. I suppose she's who Vexor was waiting for...
= - = 9-8 = - =
|From On High|
|From On High|
Inside the Beetle Battle Base, Misao rubbed her right eye as she scanned a map of Echo Creek and the detailed points of every attack by the Magnavores since Monday's brawl at Britta's Tacos.
It felt like she'd been glued to this seat for days straight, compiling data, running simulations, and cross-referencing every bit of information that was fed to her from the Beetle Battle Base's magical computers and the information collected by everyone else out in the field. This was on top of work she'd been busy with on the hardware side of the base, making modifications during her downtime between skirmishes with the Magnavores.
All her hard work would be rewarded, soon enough.
"Almost done…" she murmured, stretching her arms high over her head, spine popping. "Then maybe I can go home and play some games…"
From the hallway came a cheerful sing-song voice.
"Hey, girlfriend~! I come bearing gamer fuel~!"
Mabel strode in with two violently fizzy drinks sloshing with unholy color. In one hand she carried a tall glass of violet soda glimmering with edible glitter, ice cubes made of fruit punch and lemonade, and a handful of gummy Parasaurolophus floating inside. A marker doodle of Misao smiled from the glass's side.
Misao's eyes lit up. "Ah, my love!"
Mabel set the glass beside Misao's keyboard like she was delivering a gift from the gods.
"Just how you like it," she said proudly. "Grape energy soda, glitter sugar, tasty ice cubes, and your favorite dinosaur!"
She lifted her own red concoction in her other hand, which contained blue and purple cubes and gummy Apatosaurus instead. "Enough sugar to power a city and enough caffeine to wake up Cthulhu!"
Misao took a sip and her pupils dilated. "Ooh! I feel awakened already!"
Mabel leaned her hands on the back of Misao's chair, resting her chest on her head as she peered at the swirling projections on the central screen.
"So, what have you been up to?"
Misao, reenergized, tapped a few keys. "A few things all at once. First, I'm completing the counter-strategy for Barla, now that we've got Nano's comics. Second, I'm charting every Magnavore appearance since Monday and comparing them with magical and spatial distortions to hopefully track their movements. And third…"
She smiled proudly and turned to Mabel.
"I'm updating the Battle Base to interface with modern tech and the internet! I have already connected a router down here from the surface, but it is only the start! By this time next week, it'll sync with our phones, play our playlists, and stream cat videos in 4K. I'll be able to stream from here if I want!"
Mabel blinked. "You are so scary-smart and adorable and I wanna kiss you forever."
"Rain me with kisses," Misao replied, sipping again. "For I have earned them!"
Mabel leaned more fully over Misao's chair, casually drumming her fingers along the backrest. Her weight pressed gently against the back of Misao's head, and her eyes were suddenly narrowed with purpose as she scrutinized the map like a psychic trying to read tea leaves.
Misao, mildly muffled, tilted her head back to press her face further into Mabel's chest. "What is it?"
Still staring intently at the screen, Mabel murmured, "If you connect the dots… it kind of looks like a kitty."
Misao blinked, squinting at the screen. "Huh… it does! Those are the ears, and that's the little tail…"
At that moment, Dipper walked up beside them, holding his journal, with Janna trailing behind carrying her smartphone and a mostly-eaten churro.
"Misao, you ready to call it?" Dipper asked, glancing between the screen and the two girls.
The smaller girl lit up and her hands flew across the keyboard. "Yep! Let me just save my work!"
Janna yawned dramatically. "No rush. I'm not in a hurry to get the Graveyard going."
Misao turned in her chair slightly. "I have connected a router in the Beetle Battle Base."
Janna stopped mid-bite of her churro. "I am now in a hurry to get the Graveyard going."
Mabel was just as hyped. "I can stream makeup tutorials too!"
Dipper winced. "Hey, be careful about social media while we're down here."
Janna nodded, already scrolling. "I privated all my socials. But don't worry, I have seventy alternative accounts."
"Ja, me too," Misao said. "I stream from home, which is safe, but we don't need to alert people we're here. Not unless we want another Goblin to show up."
A flicker of tension rose in the room at the mention of that name.
Since Reiko's report of the sword-wielding mercenary showing up to the ex-Vanderhoff house, there'd been no sign of him. He was only in it for the money, but there were still bruised feelings.
Some worse than others; Star still planned to blast him into a crater Yamcha-style next time she saw him.
With her work saved, Misao stood up, still sipping from her sparkling, gummy dinosaur-filled drink. "All right, my love, let's go home."
Dipper gave her a look. "Mabel Juice this late?"
Misao raised the glass. "I'm still streaming tonight. There is much Destiny and Street Fighter to play, and it's not even nine."
The moment she stood up, Janna slid into her seat like it was a throne. "And now that there's internet down here, I'll be tuning in live."
"If you do, I'll make you a mod."
Janna grinned, eyes gleaming. "You promise too much power. My reign shall be great… and terrible."
As if the universe itself had heard her threat, alarms blared through the Battle Base, cutting off the moment.
Everyone jumped.
Dipper turned toward the main screen. "Wait… again?!"
Misao darted back to the console. "Pull up the map!"
"On it," Janna said, already typing fast.
The map on screen zoomed in to highlight an area of El Sereno, which lay to the southwest of Echo Creek. Police scanner chatter burst through the speakers.
"985 at Huntington Drive North and Castalia... repeat, 985 at Huntington Drive North and Castalia... armed assailants at El Sereno Night Market. Suspects ID'd as Typhus and Noxic." A female dispatcher reported above overlapping responses from other police units.
"Come on!" Mabel cried. "Do they even sleep?!"
Dipper grimaced. "They're definitely not concerned about our schedules."
He looked at Janna. "Who's on deck?"
"Star's off duty, and Marco's turned in with her. Last I checked in the group chat, we still have the Beetleborgs and Jackie online."
Mabel was already on her phone, dialing. "Leave the organizing to me."
She grinned. "Brophades, you got the Scissors?"
Dipper produced the Dimensional Scissors. "Let's get to work."
@@@@@
"All right, guys, ten minutes to close. If you're not buying, start packing it up and go!"
Heather's announcement jolted the customers lounging at Zoom Comics from their comic book consumption and who would win between The Hulk and Blood-lusted Howard the Duck discourse. Grumbles and and laments about the store being better when it closed at ten rose up.
Heather heard that. "Hey, don't make me get Big Nano from the back."
Among the rustling of comics being put away and bags of snacks being discarded, Drew was reading the latest issue of Invincible.
Man, I am glad I'm not as big with Invincible as I am with Beetleborgs… I'll take the Magnavores over ROBOT any day. He thought with disgust at what he read.
"Hey, Drew, you'd better start packing up," another guest and one of his classmates, a smaller bespectacled boy with fluffy caramel-brown hair and an extremely nerdy aura, called over to him.
Drew lowered his book. "Huh? Oh, I'm helping close… have a good night, Tim."
"Huh?" Tim looked at him then over at Heather, who smiled in Drew's direction.
He grew confused as he returned to Drew. "Aren't you…?"
"Aren't I what?" Drew asked.
The young man paled slightly, self-consciousness and a fear of misreading the room flashing across his brown eyes. "Uhh… forget I said anything, goodnight!"
Hoisting an oversized backpack onto his shoulders, the boy retreated out of the store.
Confused in turn, Drew shrugged his shoulders.
Heather read the vibe as she rested her elbows on the counter. She was already done breaking down the café and all that was left was to count her register.
"Wow… school's been out all week but word's getting around," she noted with a smirk.
Drew blinked owlishly at her, before it finally clicked. "Wait, about me and Sabrina?"
Heather chucked. "I don't think you're the invisible nerd anymore, dude. You're gossip material now."
Drew closed the Invincible book and slid it back onto the shelf, still trying to process Tim's reaction. "How do people even know? I haven't told anybody."
Heather gave him a long, knowing look. Then sighed in mock exasperation as she leaned against the counter.
"Sabrina Backintosh is a cheerleader, remember?" She said, counting out coins with one hand as she spoke.
"She may be the cute, quiet one, but the rest of them? Please. They'll talk about every little thing,especially when one of them snags a decent boy."
Heather calling him decent warmed Drew, reminding him of his crush on her.
No, wait… he was about to go on a date with Sabrina. He could not be thinking about that.
"Heh… I guess it hasn't really sunk in yet?" He said, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck. "School's been out for a few days, so…"
Heather watched the last customer trudge out then leaned back on the counter. The clock said she still had a few minutes before she could lock the doors, but nobody else was coming in.
"Well, think of it as moving up to the big leagues. You're one of the popular kids now, showing up dripped out to dances, stepping to the rich kids like they're punks, and dating cheerleaders."
She chuckled. "All you need now is a nice car and an Insta, and no one would believe you're the same humble dude who knows exactly how Doom would beat Batman."
As expected, Drew latched onto the last part. "Right! Doom's machinations are such that even if Batman manages to be triumphant, his victory will only come about in a way that will somehow further Doom's overall villainous schemes."
"Exactly," Heather agreed, grinning. "Advantage, Doom."
They both laughed. And for a moment, it felt like they were back in the simpler times before monsters, mayhem, or mixed-up feelings.
"You know," Heather added, settling into her register count again, "I hung out with Sabrina the other day. Right after it popped off at Britta's."
Drew perked up. "Wait, you did?"
"Mmhmm." She smiled to herself. "I didn't realize she was so into you…"
Drew did a double-take. "W-what?!"
They'd had a good time at the dance, sure, but this?
Heather gave him a knowing smirk and started counting bills, once more one-handed. "It surprised me, too. She's really excited about hanging out with you, and I'm just like… 'It's been a week, bro, chill.'"
She giggled. "Buuuut… then she told me something. And I totally got it."
Drew waited for her to go on.
She didn't.
He gestured, eyebrows raised. "Well…?"
"Nope!" She sang. "It's not my story to tell."
She rested her chin on her palm and gave him a warm, almost teasing smile. "It's nothing bad or weird… but it's very you."
Not even a month ago, Drew would've assumed "very you" was code for "nerdy, awkward, or not good enough."
Maybe even a week ago.
"Thanks," he said after a moment. "To be honest, I'm kind of surprised you're… cheering me on here."
Heather blinked. "Why wouldn't I?"
She gave him a look so direct it almost made him flinch. "You're a really sweet guy. And the idea of you dating the one nice, pure girl in Brittney Wong's Viper Pit is both hilarious and possibly the best karmic justice I've ever seen for all the crap Trip and Van put you through."
She paused.
Drew, picking up on that shadow in her tone, simply nodded.
To say nothing of how your father treats you.
His old crush on Heather tugged at the back of his mind, a quiet ache beneath the surface. And now, as she smiled warmly and talked him up like he was someone to root for… it struck him.
There was a distance forming between them.
No…
It had always been there.
Even in her kindness. Her eager comic talk. Their lunch date. The way she never quite brushed him off, but never quite invited him in, either.
She was friendly, she always has been.
But not open.
Not interested.
And now, hearing her build him up for a date with someone else, he couldn't ignore that space anymore.
Has she just never seen me as someone she could date?
That voice in his head that always second-guessed himself whispered the thought he didn't want to admit had been there for a while.
His smile faded, just a little. Not all at once, more like a slow drift, as if the weight of something unspoken had crept into his chest.
As Heather saw it slip, her own smile dimmed too, quiet and tentative.
The silence that followed was brief in real time, but it felt longer. Like the pause between heartbeats when something important lingers in the air, just unsaid.
"… You good?" She asked, gently.
There was a flicker of concern in her voice, that she'd poked something delicate. "Did I say something wrong?"
Drew blinked and gave a soft, startled laugh. "Huh? No, no… I'm… heh…"
He looked away, eyes on the Image Comics rack but seeing nothing. "… I'm just not used to getting gassed up like this, for real."
"Well…" Heather brightened back up with him. "… Get used to it dude. Without the Vanderhoffs giving you crap, you're starting to really come out of your shell."
She leaned in slightly, playful now. "At this rate? Between dating Sabrina, Janna obviously being into you, and maybe even Brittney herself starting to look your way?"
She gave him a look that was half-mocking, half-impressed. "You're basically turning into Blue Beet."
Drew's jaw dropped.
The reminder that his favorite Beetleborg was knee-deep in a chaotic story arc, with at least three love interests pursuing him, hit him like a pipe wrench to the soul.
"Whoa, whoa! I am definitely not that guy!" He stammered, a nervous laugh bubbling up.
Heather burst into giggles, thoroughly enjoying the reaction.
"I dunno~" she sang.
Just then, Drew's phone blared to life with the unmistakable electric guitar riff of Spider-Man: The Animated Series.
The abruptness of the sound made Heather flinch. "Dude, that is so loud. Sick choice, though."
Drew felt a chill; it wasn't from the ringtone, but what it meant.
No… not again.
He checked the screen. Mabel was calling.
"It's Jo," he said, forcing calm into his voice. "Probably wondering where I am."
He answered casually, "Hello?"
"Hey, Drew," came Mabel's voice, unusually direct. "Where should I open a portal for you? It's going down in El Sereno."
Drew's mind whirled. El Sereno? Why there?
"Uhh… the usual spot," he said, standing up. "I'm at Zoom, but I'm heading out now."
Heather pouted theatrically. "Not gonna help close up?"
He gave her a sheepish look, mouthing, "Sorry" before talking into his phone. "Yeah, I'm going right now. Bye."
By the time he ended the call, he was already halfway out the door. "Thanks! I'm sorry! I'll see you later!"
With that he dashed out into the night.
Heather watched him go, the doorbell jingling in his wake.
"Bye…" she murmured, more softly this time.
The shop grew quiet.
For a moment, Heather stood there, alone behind the counter. She looked down at the stack of bills in her hand, then slowly lowered her head.
The bills in her hand crinkled and folded as her grip tightened so much her hand trembled.
Her entire frame tensed up, as she slowly drew in a deep–shaky breath.
She shut her eyes… held it in.
Then she exhaled quietly.
And with that breath, the moment passed.
Her composure returned, like a mask settling gently over her face.
At that moment, Nano stepped out from the back, looking around. "Did he really leave?"
Heather turned with faux indignation. "Yeah, looks like we're not getting free labor tonight, Big Nano."
"Don't joke like that," Nano huffed, then wagged a finger. "You know I pay him in whatever books he wants."
Heather giggled, eyes twinkling again. "How about paying me in whatever books I want?"
"No way," Nano said flatly. "I know what books you want. You'll take your twenty-two an hour and like it!"
Heather gave a mock-dramatic sigh. "Fine!"
@@@@@
"All units responding to the 985 at Huntington Drive North and Castalia be advised: SWAT has been mobilized and all other units are to establish a perimeter and prioritize evacuation and exclusion."
The dispatcher's voice crackled through the cruiser's radio, nearly drowned by the howl of sirens and the rush of wind outside. Officer Boxter Hamdon and his partner Jeb Wackerman sped through the night in their new black-and-white, joining a fast-moving procession of units from Echo Creek PD, LAPD, and the County Sheriff's Department.
Jeb leaned forward, glancing at the GPS, then at the streaking emergency lights ahead. "So, it's just like over at Britta's. They're really gonna just leave it to the kids again?"
Boxter's hands flexed tighter around the wheel, the leather creaking faintly under his grip.
"It's not right," he muttered. "We're supposed to just sit back and let the kids handle it?"
Jeb shifted in his seat uncomfortably. "Well… I mean, I dunno. Maybe we have to? It's not like we can fight the Magnavores without getting smoked. And they said they can't not fight them."
He glanced out the window. "… And maybe brass is hoping Star will clean this mess up after, too."
He tried to keep it light, but the more he talked, the more he could feel the heat radiating off his partner. Every word made Boxter's jaw clench harder.
"Putting this on them because our hands are tied is one thing," Boxter growled. "But if we start using that as an excuse to take advantage of them…?"
He looked straight ahead, voice low but cutting with fury.
"I'll turn in my badge on the spot."
Jeb didn't respond. He wasn't sure if he should.
A fireball erupted ahead, lighting the sky in orange and red. Officer Hamdon slammed the cruiser to a halt just shy of the established police perimeter, eyes wide as the plume rolled upward.
The pop-pop-pop of automatic gunfire reached their ears a second later.
Both men were out of the vehicle in an instant, joining the chaos at the perimeter beside an unmarked Echo Creek Police cruiser. Just past it, uniformed officers scrambled to reinforce the line with riot shields, body armor, and rifles at the ready.
Detectives Xavier Bishop and Mirai Hashimoto were already on the scene, coordinating with officers from the other agencies. Hashimoto was shouting and relaying orders into her radio while Bishop was already motioning SWAT units into tighter formation.
Beyond the line, less than fifty yards away, was complete mayhem.
As civilians fled behind them to safety, guided by other officers, SWAT units from a half-dozen departments, covered behind armored vans and trucks, were pouring bullets into the night market and at Noxic.
His Scabs were taking a beating, the volume of fire enough that head shots weren't uncommon and some dropped to begin decay as they fired back wildly with their sword guns.
Noxic, on the other hand?
He was dancing.
The Combat Mecha Army General, fresh off surviving his last gruesome defeat where he was completely bisected just hours before, was back in one piece. Umbrella in hand, he was kicking his heels as he pranced about overturned food carts and flaming awnings like he was on Broadway.
"I'm singin' in the rain… just singin' in bullet rain~!"
The notes came out butchered and off-key, but Noxic couldn't care less. He spun around a busted tent pole like a stripper with a death wish, umbrella slashing through the air as 5.56mm rounds pinged uselessly off his metal body.
Boxter was baffled. "He's enjoying this."
"No kidding," Jeb muttered. "They're unloading on him like it's free bullets at range day and he's singing!"
Bishop lowered his radio shut and turned toward them. "We've got to keep the civilians clear and contain the spread of this mess until the 'kids' show up."
Hashimoto added darkly, "And hope this mess doesn't go out of control."
Boxter grimaced again, before a radio call came in.
"ECPD 004, are civilians clear of the area?" Dispatch radioed.
Detective Bishop grabbed his radio. "Civilians at the Night Market are clear and accounted for."
"Understood."
A tear gas canister launched from one of the SWAT officers ricocheted off the dreadlock-like pipes sprouting from Noxic's head.
The mechanoid stopped mid-twirl and turned, offended.
"Hey! You mook!" He shouted, pointing an accusatory finger with all the drama of a stage diva. "What the heck's tear gas gonna do against a robot, huh?!"
He shouldered his umbrella like a baseball bat.
"And you made me lose my place! I don't usually come out and sing for you people, so how about a little respect for the arts, huh?!"
A Black female Echo Creek SWAT officer called back from behind her shield. "Uhhh… what do you mean 'you people?'"
Noxic physically recoiled, umbrella lowering slightly. "What?! I meant humans! You're humans, right? I hope so!"
He pointed around frantically. "I mean, if you were all a bunch'a robots, then I'd feel bad about mashin' you into paste!"
An awkward silence fell as the officers gawked at Noxic.
Then, as if to reassert his dramatic momentum, Noxic clapped his fingers. "Forget it! Let's just get back to the violence already!"
At that very moment, dispatch radioed Bishop and all other officers.
"All units maintain a minimum radius of seventy-five yards, heavy ordinance inbound."
Bishop gave a jolt of surprise. "Heavy what?!"
Hashimoto called out. "Everyone back up, now!"
As the police did just that, a barrage of gunfire slammed into the pavement around Noxic, peppering him with kinetic and explosive force strong enough to stagger and finally knock him flat.
"Wh-what the heck was that?!" He shouted, scrambling to his feet.
He looked up and spotted it: a sleek, tail rotor-less attack helicopter looming overhead.
It had a long, narrow body, short angular wings folded downward at the tips, and smaller canard wings near the nose.
But Noxic's eyes locked on one thing: the 30mm chain gun pointed directly at him.
"… Ah."
The QAH-50 Hammerhead Unmanned Helicopter opened fire again, and was joined by a second circling craft, both dumping their chain guns onto Noxic and the Scabs.
As the heavy chops of both weapons and the thunderous roar of their shells filled the air, the police officers broke into ecstatic cheers.
Boxter exhaled hard, tension falling from his shoulders like sandbags. He reached for the brim of his hat, eyes fixed skyward.
"… Finally," he muttered. "So that's what she was up to…"
Beside him, Jeb whooped, both fists raised. "YEAH! WOO! GET SOME!"
But Detective Bishop didn't cheer. His mouth was open in horror.
He watched the carnage, eyes darting to the police and civilians watching, the burning structures, the flying debris.
This wasn't just force. This was overkill.
With that notion, he realized what was about to happen.
"Oh… fuck."
Hashimoto looked around in confusion. "What's going on? Who sent gunships to…?!"
She stopped, her own eyes widening as she realized what her partner had.
"OH FUCK!" She screamed with greater urgency into her radio. "ALL UNITS PULL BACK, PULL BACK!"
At the Beetle Battle Base, the urgency over the scanner struck like a fist to the gut.
That wasn't fear in her voice from surprise, it was recognition.
"What's going on?" Dipper asked, voice tense.
Janna searched her phone for any live coverage of the incident. "They're turning up."
In the back, Mabel placed her hands over her mouth. "And we just sent the Beetleborgs there…"
On scene, the barrage ended and the dust began to settle.
Noxic stood beneath his now-tattered umbrella, the smoldering wreckage of food stalls and vendor tents casting flickering shadows over him. His trench coat was shredded in places. One of his eyes flickered erratically, a spiderweb crack split across its casing. A rivulet of something black and oily ran from his shoulder joint.
And yet he was in high spirits.
"Geez," he muttered, voice metallic and warped. "Did I finally get Six Stars?"
When he looked up through the torn fabric of his umbrella, Noxic noticed a strange glow flickering in the night sky.
"Huh?"
Tilting his head, he moved the umbrella aside and tried to focus on a single, blazing magenta light shimmered high in the night sky. It pulsed with menace, and grew larger with every passing second.
"Wait," he murmured, confusion creeping into his voice. "That ain't the Prin…"
Twin lances of searing magenta energy screamed down from the heavens, hammering into the ground on either side of him with thunderous force. The intense heat and energy immediately incinerated his coat, and began to melt parts of his body.
And then the two beams converged on him, fusing into a singular column of destructive brilliance that slammed into him with a howling roar.
It didn't just strike, it drilled. The asphalt beneath the Night Market liquefied, then vaporized, opening into a glowing, molten pit.
Every nearby surface, every food truck, vendor tent, and canopy still standing combusted instantly in an expanding firestorm. Everything that still stood within thirty yards of ground zero was swept away completely like dry leaves in a hot wind.
Further back than they had first started, Boxter, Jeb, and the Echo Creek Detectives gawked at the overwhelming smite. The heat rippled off the street like a blast furnace, every building within a block lit up in flickering violet hues and windows vibrated in their frames.
On the opposite side of the Night Market, the Beetleborgs stood slack-jawed in horror.
"WHAT THE FUCK?!" Jo screamed, arm raised instinctively against the light.
"Ayo, are there still people over there?!" Roland shouted
Behind his visor, Drew's face was pale. His lips barely moved. "N-no way…"
That kind of power looked like it came from Star's wand itself.
"… Is that Major Blast…?" He breathed, stunned.
For ten excruciating seconds, the sky itself screamed, the roar of the attack drowning out sirens and shouts, and drawing eyes from five neighborhoods over.
Then, darkness.
A deafening, sucking silence blanketed everything as the beam vanished and the light snapped away.
The air stank of scorched plastic, melted tar, and the gut-wrenching chemical cocktail of vaporized fuel and carbonized insulation. Flames licked upward from a crater so deep and wide it looked like a meteor strike. Steam hissed from molten rock and shattered sewer lines below.
And at the bottom of the pit lay what remained of Noxic.
Barely more than a carbonized skull and upper torso, his once-gaudy trench coat now tatters of scorched fabric fused into his warped plating. His limbs had been vaporized below the elbows and knees, and his head—cracked, blackened, melted—resembled a burnt human skull more than any mechanical design.
"G-geez… heh… heh…" his voice croaked, heavily garbled through failing circuits and a crushed voice box. "I h-hate… th-that… b-bum… Vexor… was r–r-r-r-rrrrr-right…"
Above the carnage, silhouetted by the lingering smoke and refracted heatwaves, hovered his attacker.
Tara.
Major Blast II.
Encased in her bulky green powered armor, steam rising from her still-glowing beam cannons, she floated like a demigod of judgment and wrath.
Beneath the green glazed protective dome and the armored, pink-visored purple helmet beneath it, she smirked down at what was left of Noxic as he disappeared in the tell-tale flame of teleportation.
"… Really? That's all it took?" She scoffed.
At the Beetle Battle Base, Dipper, Mabel, Misao, all crowded Janna and her phone, staring at the image of Major Blast blasting Noxic.
"Whoa… she actually whipped the Major Blast suit out…" Janna said.
Misao was aghast and furious. Not just at the potent display of power, but also because she knew exactly why it happened.
All because they saw through her.
Mabel, hands still over her mouth, was looking more at what she hit. "… She… didn't kill anybody with that, did she…?"
Dipper reached for the console and keyed the radio. His voice was quiet, shaken.
"… You guys need to leave, now. I'm opening a portal."
As Drew, Jo, and Roland received his message, Tara turned in the air to face them.
Behind her mask, she sneered when she spotted the Beetleborgs gawking up at her.
"You had your chance," she muttered, unheard by anyone else, her voice petulant and cold. "You could've become real heroes if you just joined me."
The portal opened behind the trio.
Stingerborg hesitated. So did Hunterborg.
Strikerborg's hand moved toward her Input Magnum, fire in her posture.
Tara's sneer deepened as Stingerborg reached out and gently grasped Strikerborg's shoulder.
"But all you are now… is unnecessary."
Reluctantly, all three Beetleborgs stepped back through the portal and vanished.
"That's what I thought," she spat.
A vile pulse of magenta-colored energy flashed from the center of her chest, through the lines of her armor out to the extremities. Her lips peeled into a slasher's smile, Tara raised her head and screamed as that energy glowed brighter.
"I'M THE ONLY HERO THIS CITY NEEDS!"
= - = 9-8 = - =
What an unpleasant person. I suppose she's who Vexor was waiting for...
Last edited: