Legends: A Story of Lies [Star vs. The Forces of Evil, Gravity Falls, Big Bad Beetleborgs]

[The Ero-Sennin]

A chapter that I've waited a while to get to, the beginning of the next stage of this story and an unsettling turn of events. After this night, things are going to be different.

= - = 6-6 = -=

|House Fire|​

When Marco and Jackie made it back to the front of Hillhurst manor, they could already see what had Dipper alarmed. In front of the house, at the edge of the vineyard surrounding it, a wall of encroaching flames blazed brightly and aggressively. The fire burned slowly but steadily, consuming the dry and withered vines left unattended for years. Flame leaped from one dry patch of vegetation to the next, growing stronger and brighter as new fuel was added.

"Oh shoot," Jackie said, worried. "What happened?"

"… That's a big fire," Marco said as he went for his phone. "I'm calling the fire department."

Flabber abruptly appeared with a pop and looked out towards the flames, as Dipper exited the tunnel to the Beetle Battle Base, panting heavily for breath. "Wait… haa… hold on…!"

Dipper staggered over to the window and looked out it. "There's someone out there."

Marco looked up from his phone and joined Dipper at the window with Jackie. Peering into the firelit darkness, they saw what Dipper was so concerned about.

Walking well ahead of the fire, but barely faster than it, was a person strolling towards the house–with a walking stick in hand and a red rubber imp mask over his face. He spotted them as they did, and stopped to lean on his walking stick.

Jackie narrowed her eyes, trying to get a clearer look at him against the fire. "… Is that a Magnavore?"

Dipper shook his head. "No, it's just some guy who was setting fire to the edge of the vineyard. I caught him on surveillance."

Marco turned to Flabber. "Hey, can't you put the fire out?"

"I can," Flabber said, "But we don't know who this guy is and what he's doing here. If I start magicking up the place, he could see it and that could cause problems."

"After he started the fire he headed this way," Dipper said with a slightly heavier tone.

Marco didn't like the implication. "Then he stopped when we came up to the window."

And he wasn't moving.

Turning to Jackie, Marco put a hand on her shoulder. "Stay in the house… I'm gonna go see what he wants."

Dipper headed past him. "We are."

He called back to Flabber. "As soon as we got this guy gone, you do what you need to put the fire out."

"Flabber engine one is on standby!" Flabber, dressed as a firefighter, said as he dropped the visor of his helmet over his face.

As Marco headed out the door, Jackie called after him. "Be careful, okay?"

He looked back and smiled. "We'll be okay."

With that, he followed Dipper outside and the two walked up to the masked man waiting up the path. Side by side they approached, Marco trailing at first but then slowly edging ahead of them as they neared the encroaching heat from the burning vineyard. The man, mask and all, remained still even as the wind generated by the fire blew at his back, rustling his very human clothes and making the wolf and imp on the end of the string connected to his walking stick dance.

As they neared him, Marco realized that the walking stick was anything but. It was a bokken… a long one, on top of that. He tensed up, his guard and alertness high when both stopped.

Dipper spoke. "What are you doing here, and why'd you start the fire?"

The masked man did not move for a moment, before he nodded. "Aight, listen up, I'm Goblin."

"… Goblin?" Marco asked.

Goblin gripped his sword tighter. "Goblin deez nutz, cuh."

Marco recoiled. "… I walked right into that one."

"Nah but for real, y'all can call me Goblin, and I'm just gonna cut to the chase, if you cool with that, Pine Tree."

Dipper's eyes widened with fury, as he recognized where this was headed. Marco grew incensed as well, since there were only two idiots in this whole city who were happy to call him that.

Goblin pointed at Dipper. "The way I see it, there's two ways this can go: Either you be a man and let me whup your ass for one minute straight, or I can dog-walk all y'all until I get bored–and that goes for the thick shorty you left back in the house."

And now Marco was furious. "… Excuse you…?!"

Dipper's right hand dropped to his side, his fingers twitching. "And if I'm not in the mood to play along with either?"

Lifting his free hand, Goblin waved his finger admonishingly. "No, no, no my guy… that's the only choice you get in this."

He pointed at Dipper with the handle of his wooden sword. "Either I beat you." He gestured back and forth with it. "Or I beat all y'all."

Dipper bristled. "How much did they pay you…?"

"More than the girls that hustled 'em last time, that's for sure," he said. "In fact, that's why I'm here–and keeping it simple."

Marco, his tone cold and flowing with anger, answered. "You're not laying a finger on him, or her. This is your one warning. Turn around and walk away."

Goblin let out a laugh. "Or what? If you wanna go, let's go then, my boy!"

With that encouragement Marco accelerated towards Goblin, fire burning in his eyes as he reached him, jumped, and spun. Feinting a jumping spinning kick, he instead turned it into a spinning back kick aimed straight for Goblin's stupid mask. Instead of crushing the nose of the mask and whatever face lay underneath, his foot collided hard with the flat side of the dense wooden sword, his strike blocked with a rattling sound of wood against metal.

The force of the blow pushed Goblin back a whole yard from Marco, his feet dragging on the ground, before he stopped.

"Oh word, you MAD mad. Aight, show me somethin' and I won't slap your girl up!" Goblin said as he rushed right back at Marco.

Marco, not in the mood for banter, let out a kiai as he swung his right heel in a wide kick for the left side of Goblin's head. When Goblin ducked under it, Marco came back around and began swinging viciously for his face with quick, violent punches that Goblin evaded by swaying and dipping from side to side while bobbing his head to weave around his fists.

"Marco, don't let him bait you!" Dipper yelled, before there was a loud slap from flesh hitting wood and the rattling of metal as Marco punched the flat side of the sword's upraised handle again.

His left fist grinding against the wood, Marco glared at the expressionless visage of the Imp mask staring back, and used the back of his hand to shove the wooden sword out of the way as his right hand came up in an uppercut aimed at Goblin's jaw.

Goblin weaved his head around and ducked low as the uppercut passed, before he shot his left hand forward and drove the hilt of the wooden sword into Marco's solar plexus. As the air was forced from his lungs, Goblin struck twice more in quick succession, hitting the same place before he came up and slammed his horizontally held forearm across Marco's face as it came down, knocking him away from him in a stagger.

Coughing, Marco stumbled back towards Dipper, stopped abruptly, and then turned to his left in order to avoid the wooden sword coming down on where his head had been an instant before. He turned to face Goblin as the swordsman did not hesitate, swinging upward and diagonally towards his torso, and jumped back from the strike.

"Bro, what is your footwork?!" Goblin said as he kept swinging the sword, and Marco sharply dodged a horizontal strike, a rising diagonal return stroke, and a descending blow. When Marco closed in again, he punched rapidly, but Goblin was faster, spinning the wooden sword like a propeller to block each punch before they could connect with his stomach, throat, and jaw.

Catching his sword, he moved with the spin to catch Marco's leading right foot with the back of the blade, then swung up to catch him behind the knees before lifting him off his feet and into the air, falling backward.

Goblin then brought the sword down on Marco from above, slamming him into the ground as he yelled. "IT'S TRASH!"

Watching the fight from the house. Jackie gasped. "Marco!"

Flabber brought a hand to his mouth in fear. "Ooh…!"

On the ground, Marco coughed heavily, trying to catch his breath, when Goblin kicked him in the side, sending him skipping down the road towards Dipper's feet. Grumbling, Goblin shook his head. "Whack ass VHS Tang Soo Do shit… the fuck you think this is, a karate tournament…?"

He stopped when he found Dipper pointing his Grandfather's Hi-Power pistol at him.

"… Oh…" Goblin said, as he saw that the gun was cocked and ready to fire.

Dipper stared down the sight at him, eyes wide with fury. "Back off, or I fucking kill you."

Goblin's mask made it impossible to tell what his expression was, but the near unnatural stillness of his body was something Dipper picked up on.

"My guy, it ain't about that. I'm just here to beat your ass, ain't nobody gotta die over that," he said.

Dipper was unmoved. "Excuse me if I don't want mine, or my friends' asses kicked."

A sigh escaped the mouth of the mask. "I already told you; that's happening regardless. Pull the trigger then, if you think you ready to kill."

Without hesitation Dipper fired the pistol.

Goblin's stillness had been misleading. Even as he challenged Dipper he'd been inching, creeping while looking not at him but at his trigger finger.

The instant Dipper squeezed the trigger, Goblin completed the movement, and the bullet lashed across the rubber of the mask's right cheek.

Dipper fired again, but Goblin was still moving, going lower so the bullet took off the end of one of the mask's horns. By the time Dipper fired a third round, Goblin was faster still, the bullet passing to the right of his head. His feet digging into the ground as Dipper drew a bead, Goblin kicked off in the other direction, side-hopping to his right, and passing over Marco's prone body.

Goblin could see the shock spreading across Dipper's face in slow motion, the realization hitting him that he'd fired three times and had missed. He swung the sword up and to his left, the wooden blade catching the gun and whipping it out of Dipper's hands.

And before he could bring it down for the return stroke, Dipper's right fist collided with the left side of Goblin's head, sending him stumbling away and interrupting the attack entirely.

Recovering, Goblin violently swept the sword from side to side in front of him, but Dipper was already backing from him, moving in the direction the gun had gone.

"Oh… oh…!" Goblin said as he stopped. "I thought you didn't have that dawg in you–but I fucked up!"

Marco kicked back up onto his feet, turned around, and attacked Goblin, snarling like an animal as he threw himself into a flying kick. Blocking the kick, he didn't expect Marco to use his momentum to go up and over the blade, spinning over him to kick the back of his head. Goblin's reflexes did not let him down, and he turned in time to block that followup kick.

Jumping off the blade before Goblin could swing it, Marco landed on his hands, then sprang off them like a head-standing grasshopper to shoot over him again. This time he twisted mid ascent and swung a chop that clipped the other horn of his mask and took it off.

Marco landed, and with a furious kiai parried Goblin's punishing horizontal stroke up and away from him, then rotated his arms to repeat the movement and move the haphazardly returned opposing stroke. Marco went on the offensive, yelling more kiais with each blow, punches and palm strikes targeting Goblin's head that he blocked with the wooden sword.

Dipper, cognizant of the fire and Marco pushing Goblin back, quickly scanned the vineyard for the Hi-Power. Damn it, where is it…!

Lodged firmly in the zone, Marco continued his assault, his hands moving faster and faster, his focus narrowing to break Gabe's defense.

That sword is everything to him! He thought. Get rid of the sword, get rid of the shield!

His fist slammed into the sword, which stopped moving. Marco yelled and struck it again with a palm thrust. Got it!

And that when Marco realized… that the sword was jammed into the ground, Goblin wasn't even holding it.

Goblin's right fist crashed into Marco's jaw with such force that his entire body flipped upside down where he stood.

"… Wha…?" Marco asked as his world spun.

What was happening?

"That's what you get for tunnel vision, cuh…" Goblin said as Marco hung upside down, before he slammed his left into Marco's stomach with such force that his body went flying and crashed into one of the trellis rows some ten feet away. "Get your goofy ass outta here!"

Dipper had gotten ahold of his gun when he saw Marco crash through the row. Startled, he looked back at Goblin, who was pulling his sword out of the ground.

"Wait… what?" Dipper asked when he saw Marco semi-conscious at best.

He quickly aimed the pistol at him, and Goblin stopped moving.

At the house, Jackie turned to Flabber. "Do you have any weapons in the house?!"

Flabber shook his head. "The only weapon I know about is that one."

Several arrows appeared in the air, pointing at a suit of armor in an alcove adjacent to the stairs. In its right hand it held a long 17th century style Halberd–a polearm weapon with an ax blade on one side, a short hook facing the opposite way, and a spear tip above both. Looking up and down at the weapon, Jackie nodded.

"I can work with that…"

Outside, Goblin continued his standoff with Dipper. "We doin' this again?"

Dipper didn't shoot this time, and Goblin nodded.

"You're thinking real carefully about it now, huh?"

Dipper said nothing, even as he acknowledged that Goblin was right. There was no guarantee that the gun in his hand would do anything in this situation, not against this guy.

Marco needed a second, maybe more, to get back up. Dipper knew he was tougher than that. "You realize that this isn't going to end with this."

"I don't really care," Goblin replied with a shrug of his shoulders, "I'm only here to beat you up and then I'm out. It's nothin' personal. I'd take it up with the motherfuckers who paid me as far as getting it back in blood is concerned."

Oh, they would. "That goes without saying… but grudges don't really care about technicalities."

Once more Goblin shrugged his shoulders. "I mean, it's whatever then. You, your sister, those Beetleborgs, even the magical princess. I'll knock the shit out all y'all and then you can go back to LARPing or whatever."

Everything about this guy pissed Dipper off, but he held himself back–he wanted them to get angry and make mistakes. "Are you sure about that?"

Taking a moment to think about the answer, Goblin nodded. "Yeah, pretty sure. You're all whack as fuck, my boy."

Running footsteps alerted them both, and Dipper looked out the corner of his eye to see Jackie–hefting what looked like a giant battle ax, charging straight towards them. Growing alarmed, Dipper looked down at Marco and then back at Jackie.

"Jackie, stay back!" He called out.

"Nah, if she wants the smoke the fire is right here," Goblin said as he turned and shot straight towards her in return.

Dipper turned to draw a bead on him, but he'd already placed himself between him and Jackie. Seeing Goblin running at her, Jackie tightened her grip on the halberd and ran faster.

A laugh escaped his mask. "Aight then, brave! Show me what you got!"

Right before Jackie reached him, she hefted the halberd and to Goblin's surprise the whole weapon became a solid blur–like a helicopter's rotor–before she swung it in a wide sweeping arc that he had to immediately stop and jump back from.

"Ayo, what the…?" As Goblin tried to figure out how the sleepy blonde skater chick came from with that, Jackie used the momentum of her first swing to bring the halberd up over and down to try to cleave Goblin in two.

Realizing the blade was coming down much faster than it should, Goblin jumped back and watched as Jackie used the weapon as a vaulting pole to launch herself up and above him. Yanking the weapon up after her, she twisted her whole body to bring the weapon around, over her head, and then down again, Goblin this time jumping to his right to avoid the blow.

Jackie swung herself around the weapon and set her feet on the ground, before lifting the halberd, spinning it above her head, and pointing it at Goblin.

Goblin took his wooden sword in both hands. "Aight, I'mma be real, I didn't expect that."

Even as he expected Jackie to attack, Goblin didn't anticipate her speed as she lunged forward while thrusting the halberd ahead of her–the spear tip aimed for his throat. With a quick but short forward swing he parried the halberd aside, but Jackie circled the spear tip up and around the bokken before thrusting again, prompting him to parry the other way.

Jackie's rush of attacks continued, the young woman shouting with each lunge and forcing Goblin to parry and deflect the halberd. Left and right, aiming for his neck and chest, she was relentless as she walked Goblin back, before she overextended a final thrust and managed to get past the sword. When Goblin leaned back, Jackie rotated the shaft of the weapon and pulled it back, catching the wooden sword before she swung the weapon down and pinned it into the dry, cracked dirt.

Once more Jackie ran forward, using the spear to vault and kick Goblin in the face successfully this time. With the grace of a gymnast, she swung herself around the shaft fast, turned herself around and dragged the heel of her left foot across his face.

Goblin staggered back, pulling his sword free from Jackie's halberd, but then a much harder roundhouse kick smashed into the side of his head, sending him spinning off his feet and crashing through several rows of vineyard trellises back towards the fire he started.

Marco slammed his foot on the ground, his body trembling from adrenaline and anger.

Goblin crashed through two trellises out of control. But as he reached the third, he recovered and crashed through it back first, crouched down on the balls of his feet as he skidded to a halt. His white shirt, the cream-colored sweater vest he wore over it, and his brown slacks were covered in dirt and torn in places, and the lower half of his goblin mask was ripped open, revealing his mouth… which was pulled into a wide, open-mouthed smirk.

"Dude, are you all right?" Jackie asked Marco.

Marco wiped away the blood that seeped from his mouth. "I'm still standing."

Dipper joined him, his pistol pointed in Goblin's direction but not raised to shoot. "Let's go back to the house."

Marco glanced at him. "You sure?"

Dipper nodded. "Yeah, this guy's just here to kick the crap out of us… I say we don't oblige him at all."

Jackie and Marco looked at each other, then at Dipper, before they nodded in agreement. All three began to back up, inching back towards Hillhurst and away from Goblin.

Standing upright, Goblin's smirk disappeared. "Hol' up, where are you goin'?"

Dipper aimed the pistol at Goblin. "We're done. If all you're here to do is beat the shit out of me, then we're just not going to fight you!"

Goblin did not expect this course. "Oh word, you're just gonna bow out?"

"Take it as a compliment," Marco said as he and Jackie trailed behind Dipper, putting themselves between him and Goblin, "You're a lot stronger than we thought."

Dipper kept a bead on Goblin. "And this is over the freaking Vanderhoffs; fighting you isn't worth it."

Goblin's scowled. Tilting his head from one side to the other, popping his neck, he spoke. "How many times do I have to say this? There's only two ways this goes and one way this ends. You only get to choose if your homies get messed up with you."

Taking the bokken in his right hand just above the handle he held it down at his side. "Since I've already smacked your boy around and shorty has my respect–I'm giving you one last shot to do the right thing and end this in one minute."

Jackie took two steps forward. "Dude, you want him, you go through us."

Marco joined her. "And I guarantee you won't."

Goblin went still, the tension building in his body as he leaned ever slightly forward. "Bet."

The air shuddering around him, Goblin rushed down Jackie and Marco. Tightening the grip on the halberd, Jackie raised it, took a deep breath and lunged to reach him with her weapon before he could attack with his. Marco was right beside her, going wide to prepare to attack Goblin's left side.

When they merged, however, Goblin's left hand shot to the handle of the bokken. Jackie and Marco's eyes both widened when they saw how he held the sword, then grew wider as he pulled on the handle. The handle of the bokken separated from the rest of the wooden blade–revealing that it was in fact the handle of a katana without a hand guard, locked inside of a dense wooden sheath.

That was the only glimpse of it before the blade vanished from their sight.

In an instant, with the sound of metal shearing through metal and wood effortlessly, the business end of Jackie's halberd was cut to ribbons. In the next instant, as shock filled her eyes at the destruction of her weapon, the sheath of the guardless katana drove into her gut and she was lifted straight up off her feet and above Goblin's head.

As Marco skidded to a stop, he felt the katana's steel bisect the air in front of him, keeping him back and in place long enough for the sheath of the weapon to follow the blade on a different course–slamming into his stomach and forcing all the air from his lungs and a spray of blood from his mouth.

Marco and Jackie both hit the ground at the same time as Goblin came to a stop behind them–holding sword and sheath in both hands like their own separate blades.

Dipper rushed Goblin; hands steady despite his rage as he opened fire with the pistol while approaching him. Goblin faced him, the unsheathed sword in his left hand a blur as he twirled and spun it to deflect the seven quick shots in succession before he was close enough to lunge forward, bring the sheath across himself and swing to knock the gun up and out of Dipper's hand, sending it clattering to the ground beside where Marco lay.

A split second after that, the sheath crashed into Dipper's diaphragm, and down onto his knees he fell, clutching his smashed hand while gagging and gasping for breath.

Resting the sheath on his shoulder, Goblin looked at Marco and Jackie, and then down at Dipper. "Y'know what? I'mma keep it one-hundred… y'all surprised me."

He kicked Dipper in the face, dropping him on his back. As he lay there stunned, Goblin stepped closer, then kicked him violently in the side.

"I thought you'd go down like that, you know?" He kicked him in the stomach when Dipper rolled onto his side and tried to curl up, then kept kicking.

"But y'all… some tough ass… opps…!" He drove his foot into Dipper's arms, his face, and his gut, hitting him over and over until Dipper stopped moving and just lay still, breathing raggedly.

Taking one step back, he looked down at Dipper's right hand as his arm uncurled from guarding his body and gave it some thought.

"Did you really think them dumb motherfuckers were going to just go away after you kicked the shit outta them?"

He lifted the sword and pointed the blade down at Dipper's hand, the very tip aimed to take off his pinky finger if it came down. "They paid me half a milli to fuck you up after that. In the future, if you want your problems to go away, you need to do what you have to do."

As he held his hand still and lifted the blade a little higher to drop it, he finished. "I'mma just take a bit off the end, so you don't forget."

Three more gunshots rang out, the bullets striking the sword and shattering it just above the handle. Goblin turned and looked at the shooter as more clicking followed.

It was Marco, lying on his side, pointing the now empty Hi-Power at Goblin and squeezing the trigger over and over while giving him a look so filled with wrath that it made the swordsman take a step back.

Several more times Marco pulled the trigger, before he fell unconscious and went limp.

Looking at his broken sword, then down at Dipper, Goblin shrugged his shoulders and turned to start walking away–when something in the fire caught his attention.

He froze.

The Red Strikerborg stepped from the roaring fire, her helmet's yellow eyes shining brighter than the fire itself.

Goblin stared at the armored heroine as she just stood there in the blaze, staring back at him. He looked at the flames just swirling around her and how her trembling fingers curled and uncurled.

Slowly, Goblin stepped away from Dipper's prone body, and then began walking away from him, Jackie, and Marco. The Red Strikerborg turned her head slowly, following him until he was more than ten paces away from Dipper.

As soon as Goblin's foot fell on that eleventh step, the ground in front of him fractured from the Red Strikerborg landing in front of him, her right hand drawn back. Immediately Goblin threw his arms up to block–and when the Red Strikerborg's fist crashed into him, he was gone–a projectile rocketing away from her, sailing into the hills that surrounded Hillhurst.

Assured that no one could survive a hit like that without serious injury, the Red Strikerborg rushed over to Dipper and knelt by him. "Dipper…! What the hell happened?!"

Dipper opened one eye, then looked up at her. "… The Vanderhoffs sent him to attack us…"

Jo looked at the state Jackie and Marco were in, then back at Dipper. "I'm going to fucking kill them. After I go and finish off that asshole…!"

Dipper shook his head. "Jo, forget him… you need to call my Grandfather. I don't know how bad Marco and Jackie are, that man was not normal."

Swearing under her breath, Jo restrained her fury. As she went to call Shermie, however, numerous message prompts flashed in her helmet's HUD, all of them flagged urgent. Opening them, she lost her hold on that fury when she saw the alarming message being spammed by Mabel.

Mabel said:
SOS! STAR IS FIGHTING A MONSTER TRYING TO GET IN 2 THE DANCE! WE ARE STUCK INSIDE! ROLAND AND DREW CANT SLIP OUT TO TRANSFORM! JO WHERE R U?!

Taking a deep breath, as the fire began to die down thanks to Flabber's magic, Jo looked again at her three fallen friends. She had to get them inside the house first, and make sure they were okay. However, she wasn't going to leave Mabel hanging. Using the helmet's fancy eye tracking, she sent a message.

Jo said:
I'm in my suit and on my way.

= - = 6-6 = -=​

During the second world war, belligerent nations observed a troubling trend. In every theater, in almost every nation, soldiers, sailors, airmen, and civilians were observed surpassing well past human limits of intellect, strength, reflexes, endurance, and survival. With so many points of data collected, researchers during and after the war came to the realization that a very small percentage of the human race were superhuman, and as more data was collected an alarming realization was made of this population.

In the 1950s, these observations led to the establishment of Monster Theory: The human race was transforming into something stronger, faster, and smarter.

 

[The Ero-Sennin]

52 days since the last activity. Been through a whole lot. Had to write and rewrite a whole scene, struggle with the execution of a scene and the end of a chapter. Alas, friends. We've got everything under control and finished. Volume 6 of Legends is done, and the next three updates in the coming week and a half will wrap that up.

Starting with this one.

Please, please forgive the machine-translated German.

= - = 6-7 = -=

|Dance Dance Resolution|​

The shores of Lake Tahoe at the end of the warm season are a quiet, distant cry from the height of the summer. The shorter days and longer nights take their toll quickly, but before the last warmth leaves the dark and winter sets in, there's still activity to be found at the resorts along the deep, clear lake.

On the southern shore, standing ankle deep in waters so still that the only ripples across its surface were from her steps into it, Heather stared up at the moon hanging above the Sierra Nevada. Despite of being in such an exciting locale, with loud music, laughter, and shouts happening in the large party gathered around several fires and long tables… her expression was one of emptiness as she chewed on the meat pulled from a barbecued rib she held in her right hand.

Lake Tahoe is supposed to be fun, but all she could think about was the dance and the friends she was missing.

She hoped they were having fun.

She hoped Drew was having fun.

"I hoped someone asked him out," she murmured to herself. Hopefully it was Janna–she was dark in a cool way, and a little weird, but she couldn't remember anyone just popping up out of the blue to give him or anyone a gift as nice as that phone–and asking for nothing in return.

A small smile spread across her lips, as she imagined what it must be like at the dance. Sure, it was a Brittney Wong party, but with the likes of Mabel, Star, and Roland it was probably a wild and out of control bash where everyone was having fun. Hopefully one day she'd get to attend a real party with all of them and spend time with the people she liked to be with, instead of those she had to be with.

As if on that note, the shouting and laughter at the barbecue grew, pulling her from her daydreams of places she'd rather be. Her smile faded as she stared at the fire, before she turned away and faced the lake.

Looking at the rib in her hand, she sighed, brought it to her lips and tore off a strip of meat with her teeth, smearing her lips in red.

@@@@@​

Like everything Brittney's hands had touched over the last week, Echo Creek Academy's Gymnasium was completely transformed to a lavish degree. The drab, gray walls of the arch-shaped gym were draped with flowing blue, purple, and pink curtains that also covered up the wooden bleachers that had been fully folded to provide more floor space. The flowing curtains and the shimmering lights provided by the disco ball and both laser light and hologram projectors created dreamy, ethereal atmosphere of a garden shrouded in magic and mystery.

The refreshment tables with bowls of punch, hors d'oeuvres, and various desserts were decorated with extravagant floral arrangements in Brittney's colors. Hologram projections of butterflies and hummingbirds flitted around the flowers, and among the students, while the dancefloor reacted with their movements, sending beautifully rendered ripples and even upward rising splashes with their steps.

Beside one of the refreshment tables, Drew and Roland stood together as their dates headed off to the restroom. The night had gone well; they had danced to a few songs and the mood was light… but there was no escaping the tension in the air, or how the eyes of other attending students fell onto Roland as they passed on and off the dance floor.

"Everyone's waiting for it," Drew said as he took note of one of the Swim Team and his date glancing in Roland's direction.

Roland nodded. "Mmhm."

He didn't mind the gawkers in the slightest; he was more focused on the one hawk who did not stop watching him all night. Brittney, none too interested in dancing with anyone, alternated between standing over by the DJ and his equipment, casually pacing the perimeter of the dance floor, or standing by the refreshments in the service of keeping tabs on him. She was on stage, grooving to the music while letting her gaze happen to wander over towards the two friends.

"So," Roland asked as he pretended to not notice Brittney's gaze, "What's the deal with Sabrina?"

Drew turned his head to his friend. "She asked me to accompany her to the dance after I got treated. I don't think there's much more to it than that."

Roland tilted his drink towards him. "Well, don't sleep on the opportunity, my guy. Is she having a good time?"

"I guess so. We've danced to a few songs, and it hasn't felt awkward," Drew replied. "I'm just not used to all this attention I've been getting…"

"Oh?" Roland had a pretty good idea of where he was going.

"Sabrina asking me out, Brittney suddenly concerned about my well-being, Heather taking me to lunch in her car, and then there's… everything with Janna. I'm… not sure what's going on, but it feels like suddenly there have been more girls aware of my general existence in the last week and some change than there has been since I've first been interested in girls."

Roland mused on that. "I mean… bro, it hasn't been long since all this mess started, but you're already taking charge of shit, working to better yourself, and you even clapped back at Trip and Van the second they started with you."

As opposed to raising his defenses and allowing Jo or Roland to back him up went unsaid.

"People notice that, and you already ain't a bad looking dude," Roland finished.

He leaned his weight on his cane as he gestured to his current appearance. "I mean damn, son, there probably ain't a girl here who hasn't been eyeing you up."

Drew looked down at himself. "Am I gonna start having to do makeup and stuff? Because all this took like an hour."

Roland laughed and shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know. Could always ask Mabel how to stay fresh."

Both looked out onto the dance floor, where Mabel and Misao were dancing with Janna and several other students from Mabel and Roland's homeroom.

Drew shrugged his shoulders. "You know what? I've felt as great as I looked since I got here, I'll ask her for tips."

Still smirking, Roland gave him a teasing look. "Yeah, wait until Heather sees the new you. On that note…" Setting his drink down, he pulled out his phone and took a picture of Drew. "Because she's missing out."

Drew flushed. "Damn it, Roland…"

Roland moved close to Drew and held up his phone for the selfie. Despite himself, Drew smiled for the picture with his best friend as he took it. As Roland pulled back and began typing out a text, he asked, "Oh yeah, how'd lunch go with her?"

"Until Janna popped up to give me my phone and the Magnavores interrupted us, it was nice. We talked about… stuff… read some comics, it wasn't a big deal," he said as casually as he could. In the back of his mind, however, he realized that he'd said a few things to Heather that he wasn't even cool telling his best friend for years about.

"They also fogged up her windows pretty good," Janna said from over his shoulder without warning.

Drew yelped as she seemed to materialize into his peripheral vision from his left side, wearing the smile of a cat living its best life in an aviary. The sophisticated lighting danced wildly off the yellow, gold, and silver glitter in her hair and dress, dazzling Drew as he denied such a thing.

Roland leaned back, smirking. "Oh ho?"

"What? No!" Drew sputtered.

"Yeah, right in front of everyone waiting in line at Britta's Tacos," Janna continued.

"We were just talking!" Drew yelped. "It was hot out! Heather had her AC on!"

As Janna savored his panic, he quickly countered. "You were the one trying to peep in on us like something was going on, anyway!"

Without an ounce of shame, Janna waggled her eyebrows at him. "To reiterate, in front of God and Britta's. You know what I'm all about, why would I not look?"

Roland barked out a laugh, as Drew tried to counterattack "Yeah, why would you not? Jealous maybe?"

Janna rested a hand on her cheek as she responded in a lower tone. "I don't get jealous. There was nothing I did not like to see in that car."

Now Roland's right eyebrow shot up, while Drew's expression betrayed his puzzling over what Janna even meant by that.

She savored the moment.

"Hey y'all," Megan said as she and Sabrina returned from the powder room, "We're back."

Seeing Janna, Sabrina marveled at how the normally dark and morbid girl literally lit up the room before sheepishly joining Drew's side. "H-hi Janna."

Megan joined Roland's side. "Can we get on the floor? The slow songs are about to start soon!"

And now Drew had a new concern. "S-slow songs?"

"You know, the slow jams," Janna said before her eyes lit at the opportunity to do some more prodding. "Where you gotta bring it in nice and close?"

"I know what you're talking about," Drew snapped back as Sabrina's face colored as she began to fidget while stealing quick looks at him. "I didn't know those were allowed…"

Megan spoke up. "Brittney wasn't about to have a dance without slow songs."

Drew looked at Sabrina, whose face was now nearly as pink as her dress, and he flushed as well.

Janna then leaned close to him and all but whispered. "Just remember to keep those hands at waist level until after the dance."

Megan joined Drew and Sabrina in blushing, the red visible on her dark skin. "Girl, stop!" She shouted with a laugh.

Roland laughed into the back of his free hand.

"She is incorrigible…" Drew muttered while he shook his head. When Janna batted her eyelashes at him, he said aloud. "You are!"

Sabrina, still fidgeting, giggled with nervous energy and Drew let out a small laugh himself. For all of Janna's teasing and mixed signals, it was nice that she didn't have a malicious bone in her body towards him or anyone.

Almost anyone, as Janna's smile cooled when Brittney finished her tour of the dance floor and approached the group. With the mood getting ready to change, the hostess of the evening came down from her exclusive perch and deigned to stand among the mortals.

Drew and Roland nodded to Brittney as she reached them. With a self-assured huff, she spoke. "Enjoying the dance so far?"

Not wanting to be rude, Drew put forth his best foot. "It's been fun." He looked at Sabrina. "Sabrina, you're a really good dancer."

"Th-thank you," Sabrina squeaked back.

Roland nodded in concession. "This is quite the party you've thrown. The classiest one this school's ever seen."

Megan hugged his arm. "And it's not even over yet, huh?"

"Mm…" Roland leaned on his cane as Megan leaned into him in turn. "No, it is not."

Both young men knew what Janna was going to say. The moment Brittney approached them, her eyes lit with a malevolence that had been lurking every time her gaze fell on the socialite.

"It really is a great party," she admitted to Brittney, "In fact the only thing that sucks about it is not everyone gets to enjoy it."

Brittney's lips thinned as her typical scowl tightened into an outright glare at Janna, whose sloe-eyed stare met it with all the indifference to the cheerleader's feelings she could muster.

"That's saying a whole lot for someone who went through the trouble to show up," Brittney retorted.

Janna shrugged her shoulders. "I'm here because I'm not wanted, not because I thought this party of yours would be fun or interesting."

Brittney let out a sharp "hmph", before she spoke with disdainful venom. "Spite, that's it? How petty."

"Now who's saying a whole lot?" Janna fired right back. "I'll be up front though: I am being just a tad bit spiteful." She brought her hand to her heart and spoke with a melodramatic tone. "But I learned it from watching you."

Megan, letting go of Roland's arm, quickly stepped up. "Okay, can we chill?"

Janna gave Megan a sidelong look. "I'm just saying."

Brittney was bristling. "You've gotten your kicks, you're free to leave anytime."

Like she was offering Brittney a free swing, Janna shrugged her shoulders and raised her hands, palms upturned. "I'm not going anywhere until the end of the night. If you want me to go now, I'll go–you just need to throw me out."

"I can make that happen," Brittney snarled, "So fast, weirdo."

Sabrina grew anxious, but not in the fun way she'd been enjoying all night at Drew's side. "B-Brittney…"

Drew looked ready to step in, when Roland gave him a hard look and shook his head. Reluctantly he nodded, and both watched as Brittney's fury bubbled like foaming sea to crash against the unbothered face of Janna's iceberg-like cool.

It was then that Misao and Mabel emerged from the dance floor and immediately made their way over to the confrontation. The jovial face Mabel wore as she had stepped towards the refreshments was replaced with more mild concern while Misao was glowering the second Brittney entered her line of sight.

"Hey~!" Mabel greeted, and Brittney decided to use her as a point of reference to avoid having to look at Janna. "I hope everyone's having fun~!"

"Oh, I'm having the time of my life," Janna replied.

Misao flashed Janna a mischievous smirk. "It looks like it!"

And Megan quickly rushed to nip the side-talk in the bud. "Time out. Y'all need to back off, right now; we're not supposed to be about all that tonight!"

Mabel agreed. "Yeah, can we pull it back just a little…?"

Their valiant efforts were in vain, Brittney could not resist the bait. "No, it's gonna be like that."

She turned her full wrath to Misao and Janna. "If you want to talk crap about me and my dance, go ahead. But that doesn't change the fact that you're here, despite whatever you may want to feel about it!"

She gestured out at the party. "You're having your fun, they're having their fun, and no one's running around screaming and on fire because a hyperactive magical girl with no impulse control isn't here to summon dragons or roided out unicorns or whatever crap she's on this week!"

Pointing her fan at Misao, then Janna, she continued. "But no, fuck me for having standards, right?"

"Ja, fuck you," Misao snapped right back at her. "Do you hear yourself talk? Do you even care?! Es ist zum Kotzen, wie selbstgefällig du bist!"

Brittney saw red. "The fuck did you say to me?!"

"HOLD IT!" Mabel finally yelled, and everything stopped. The trading of barbs, the dancing, and even the music.

Everyone was staring at her, surprised at how quickly she'd gone from gamely trying to defuse the situation to taking every spotlight in the house with two words.

Mabel looked around; she was a little bit surprised at all the attention. "Heh, I still got it," she muttered to herself with a small smirk before exaggeratedly clearing her throat. "Everybody needs to hold their horses and get 'em back in the barn before they stampede. There are too many bad vibes right now, so if we're going to talk it out, let's talk it out without resorting to name calling, yelling, or angry German."

Misao looked away, pouting. "Ich weigere mich, mich zu entschuldigen."

Mabel looked at her. "Du kannst besser sein als das."

Misao turned up her nose with a huff.

"Janna, Misao…" Mabel sighed. "Brittney isn't a bad person. She's definitely not the Vanderhoffs, or any of the rich snobs or deranged celebrities I've met. And oh-hohohoh have I met some really awful people."

She walked over behind Sabrina, and placed her hands on her shoulders, making her squeak. "I mean, could Brittney really be a bad person deep down if she's friends with this cinnamon roll?"

Mabel looked down at Sabrina then back to her friends. "Look at her, she's like a tiny deer. She needs to be protected."

"Um… th-thanks?" Sabrina asked.

Mabel then stepped over to Drew, placing her hands on his shoulders next. "And look at Drew, here. He was not looking this great the last time we saw–" She stopped and looked down at him. "Hey, is this okay, I'm not hurting you, am I?"

Drew shook his head. "No, I'm fine… I was able to go to the doctor because of Brittney, and get patched up."

Surprised murmurs spread among the audience at the revelation. Brittney, annoyed that he'd said it aloud, folded her arms and sighed.

"Yeah, I fixed him up," she admitted, "He was still going to the dance, but he was in bad shape… so I took him to Hyuuga Medical Works and got him fully healed, then I got all the other work on him done."

Misao's eyes widened more. "Hyuuga Medical…! That must've cost you over a quarter of a million euro to do all that work in one day!"

"The suit wasn't cheap either," Brittney added, "Neither was the tailor, nor the Taylors."

Mabel looked over Drew's shoulder at his shoes. "Oh wow, those are Chucks?" She looked at his face. "You rock 'em well."

"Ah, thanks," Drew said with slight embarrassment.

And now Misao was just another person confused by Brittney Wong's inconsistency. "… Ah… was?"

Mabel turned to Brittney; her head tilted to one side. "I'm super confused myself; I figured Drew was in because Roland was… but all this? What's the dealio?"

Brittney rolled her eyes to look aside at Drew before turning back to Mabel. "You want to know why I spent over a quarter million euros on Roland's pal?"

Both Mabel and Misao nodded.

"Yeah, I'm pretty curious," Roland spoke up.

"Because despite the state he was in, he stood up to those jackasses Trip and Van. He didn't even flinch when Van squared up to him, when he used to hide from them in the hallway if he wasn't with Roland or his sister."

"That's… it?" Misao asked.

Brittney nodded. "That's it. When I saw that he was still basically the walking dead, today? I took him to get cleaned up, he earned it, because I respect that."

She looked out over the dance at everyone staring back at her. "I'm not like those two idiots; I don't go around judging people because I've got more money than them."

"Doubt," Misao blurted out.

Brittney glared at her. "I don't like people who don't give a shit about themselves."

Mabel opened her mouth to question that but stopped to let her finish.

"I don't expect you to get it, but even with everything I have, I can't hold everyone's hands and pull them along through life while they drag their feet."

Mabel hummed, letting that sink in, before she answered. "That's true; you don't need to take it upon yourself to help everyone."

Brittney nodded, enjoying Mabel being on her side while Janna and Misao were left sorely understanding her. "Exactly."

"But… no one asked you to pick and choose who needs help–and no one definitely asked you to treat people the way you do," Mabel firmly continued.

And just like that the wind drained out of Brittney's sails. "Huh?"

Mabel's tone changed, growing heavier as she walked up to her. "I saw how you were deciding who 'give a shit about themselves', the kid who gets picked on because of his weight with an insulting nickname, or the timid girl with cheap glasses because oh wow–we're living in LA. Both worked up the nerve to walk up to you and ask for a chance to dance… and you dumped all over them both in front of, like, half the school."

Janna shook her head with casual disgust. "Wow, that's totally not like the Vanderhoffs at all."

"You're right!" Misao exclaimed.

Brittney looked like she'd been kicked in the stomach as she looked up at the taller girl much in the same way she did Dipper when he chewed her out that same day. There wasn't fury in Mabel's expression or voice… but a faint sorrow and pity as she shook her head. "You're not wrong for banning Star. I believe you have every right to ban her from the dance, she believes that you have every right to ban her. What she did to hurt you was way over the line. Your generosity to Drew can't be overstated, either."

Mabel looked back at Roland, the entire dance, and everyone watching, before back to Brittney. "But for everything else I've seen you do–and I don't say this lightly–you've been a fucking bitch."

One could hear a pin drop from the ceiling all the way to the floor in the gymnasium, as Brittney gawked in silent shock at Mabel. Slowly, murmurs of agreement brought life back to the dance, as the subject on everyone's minds became what Brittney was going to do in the face of these revelations.

Before she could respond, however, Roland took a deep breath and stepped forward to join Mabel's side. "That's why I'm not pranking your dance."

Brittney drew back from Roland, her face paling and her eyes growing wide. "Wh-what?"

Misao huffed. "Ich hatte recht damit!"

Janna was impressed. "Of course."

A wave of gasps radiated out, as Roland explained himself. "High school is short, it's only four years and only so many dances, parties, and memories we can make before it's over," he said. "Look at everyone here, now think for a second the people who were rejected. Or who didn't want to go because of how you rejected people. What are they doing right now? How are they feeling?"

Brittney's gaze lowered.

"Is that how you want to remember tonight?" He asked. "Because that's all this will ever be to them… the night they stayed at home and did nothing because you decided they weren't good enough to be part of their school."

Roland glanced at Megan. Though surprised at first, she looked at Brittney before she nodded. "Yeah, they're right."

Chantal, who was even relieved that the courage to speak freely was cool, jumped in. "Yeah, B, we almost had this party blown out by a bunch of cool kids just straight up refusing to show. I mean, shoot, Jackie's not here, Peter isn't here… everyone who showed up was basically here for the prank…"

Sabrina took Drew's hand for support, surprising him, as she let her feelings be known. "I… I agree. You went way too far making sure this dance was perfect, Brittney. We upset so many people by just banning them like we did; if… if you could give me a chance, why not any of them?"

Brittney didn't answer them. She was looking at her feet, the weight of everyone's words upon her shoulders like the world with none of her riches and privilege to lighten the load. Her fan dropped from her hand with a clatter as it sank in.

Mabel gave the crowd a quick scan, before she placed a consoling hand on Brittney's shoulder. "You really need to think about how your words and actions hurt people. I was once thoughtless, inconsiderate, and even cruel–and that hurt the people that meant the most to me even when I was selfishly convinced that I knew what was best for everyone."

She gave Brittney a small, but hopeful smile when she peeked up at her; the rich girl's permanent scowl had lost all its potency and now looked more like a sober pout. "But… it was thanks to those same people that I was able to be better. I'm still working on it, and I think enough people believe in you that you can be better."

Looking at Drew, Sabrina squeezed his hand tighter as she smiled.

Roland was impressed. "It's really amazing how much you've grown, Mabel," he said.

Mabel looked back at him. "That really means a lot to hear from you."

Brittney sighed, shaking her head. "What am I going to do?"

Mabel turned back to Brittney. "Hm?"

"You're right," she said with self-recriminating bitterness. "This was supposed to be perfect, this had to be perfect… but it went out of control. I let all the power go to my head and ruined my entire dance."

She paused before she corrected herself. "… I ruined their dance."

Mabel pulled out an imaginary cap and put it on her head. "Well, it's time to put on my thinking cap!" Bringing her hand to her chin, she hummed. "And I think there's still a way to save this dance!"

Misao tilted her head to one side. "Throw Brittney out?"

Janna chimed in. "Turn the gymnasium into a bonfire?"

"Inspired ideas, chums!" Mabel said.

Chantal let out a laugh. "I'm down for the second one."

Janna gave her a very interested side-long look. "I like you; I'm walking you home, tonight."
"But!" Mabel said. "The solution to everyone's problems lies with our dear friend Star Butterfly!"

Brittney, staring at Mabel in confusion for only a moment, grew wide-eyed with realization. "Ah… I think I know where you're going with this…"

@@@@@​

Not too far from the school was the Stop & Slurp, a one-story convenience store near the heart of Echo Creek and a popular spot for most of the town's youth. Tonight, it was even more of a hot spot, with loud rock music playing as the students dismissed from the dance by Brittney's decree or in protest of it gathered. Though the bitterness towards the night's events laid beneath, the ad hoc party and the near total lack of adult supervision on the long narrow roof fed a mood of excitement and cheer beneath the waxing moonlight.

Peter, the blonde and bespectacled young man who attended Karate class with Marco, sat on the edge of the store's AC unit with Ashlyn–the bespectacled girl who'd been denied by Brittney the dance for having frizzy hair and unfashionable glasses. On his other side was the young man nicknamed Moobs, who was trying not to be a sputtering mess because a cute girl with reddish brown hair was using his lap as a pillow.

"I'm so glad I didn't go to the dance," the girl with her head on Moobs' lap, Hope Hadley, said with her eyes closed. "This party is way cooler."

Moobs tugged at his collar, not used to living the anime dream. "Uh… y-yeah, getting banned has been pretty great…"

"Your lap is so comfy," Hope said.

Ashlyn looked at Hope, genuinely worried. "Um, Hope? Make sure you drink a lot of water, okay?"

"I'm fine, don't worry!" Hope cheered back.

Peter, a sensible young man, handed Moobs a large metal water bottle and nodded to him. He then asked Hope. "Hey, do you know what happened with Jackie?"

Hope giggled. "Oh yeah, um… she said she was going to hang out with Marco~."

A chorus of "Oooohs!" went up among the other attendees of the rooftop party who heard her, while Peter was surprised and pleased.

"No way, really?" He asked.

"Mmhm! She was like 'I'd so be there, Hope, but Marco invited me out and I couldn't say no!'"

Peter pumped both his fists and called to the sky. "MY MAN!"

Another boy hanging out by a drum with a fire burning in it called out. "Bullshit! I totally saw Starco sucking face on the bus! You can ask Alfonzo and Ferguson, they were there! Star was going in on him, too!"

Ashlyn was shocked. "S-Starco is canon?"

Another girl at the party chimed in. "So early? Well, I guess they do live together."

One of the football team, who was trying to avoid eye contact with their quarterback, protested. "Nah, man, Jarco for life. They've been legit connecting. Did you see how Jackie was sitting next to him at lunch?"

"Yeah," one of his teammates said, "But she was squeezed up between him AND the new guy."

The same girl who was befuddled by the suddenness of Star and Marco getting together spoke up. "Dipper? Oh no, what do you even call that ship?"

Peter pondered a particular problem. "So… Marco's making out with Star, but also going out with Jackie? Hmm… I don't think I can abide by that."

Hope let out a sharp "Psha!" and laughed. "Oh, don't worry about that; it's perfectly fine if Marco's going out with Jackie and Star."

And now the other students were curious.

"Why?" Ashlyn asked… before a flash of light preceded the opening of a portal at the center of the roof.

The music was turned off and everyone stopped what they were doing to look at the portal. Thanks to Star and her magic shenanigans, the portal wasn't strange in the slightest–in fact a few people were excited at the prospect of Star emerging and making this a real shindig… until the fantastically dressed Mabel stepped out of the portal holding onto Star's scissors. She was followed by Roland, and right behind him stepped a vibe killer–Brittney Wong emerging from the portal and keeping her gaze aimed at the roof.

Peter's eyes narrowed at the sight of Brittney, but Mabel and Roland were there, so he kept an open mind. "Hey Mabel, hey Roland… what's up?"

Roland looked around. "Sorry if we interrupted the fiesta, my guy. But uh…"

He gestured to Mabel, who took the floor. "I've come to make an announcement!"

She beamed. "Echo Creek Academy's much hyped and highly controversial Homecoming Dance… SUCKS!"

Mabel's declaration brought a wave of cheers from the party attendees, with Hope nearly socking Moobs in the jaw as she shot up her hands. "WOO! EAT IT, BRITTNEY!"

As the cheers and laughter at Brittney's expense died down, Mabel continued. "It's awful. There's awesome music, great food, no teachers acting as chaperones, slow songs, and there's even going to be an exclusive single drop at the end of the night."

The cheering turned into confused murmurs as Mabel detailed what the dance's awful accommodations.

"But worst of all…" Mabel shook her head. "… The worst part about this dance? Is that none of you are there."

Folding her arms, she nodded resolutely before she smiled big. "And I refuse to stay a minute longer at a lame school dance without the only reason I'd ever want to go!"

Peter's lips curled into a small smile, as he looked at Ashlyn, Moobs, and Hope. Ashlyn and Moobs were both looking just as surprised and hopeful as a good number of the students… but also extremely flattered, if not touched by Mabel's kind words.

"Mabel's the best, she's so nice and tall," Hope purred–unwilling to move her head from Moobs' lap.

Mabel, seeing that she had the crowd, turned to Brittney. "You're up, Princess."

Brittney stepped up to where Mabel stood and took her place as the taller girl stepped away. She looked around at her classmates, seeing mixtures of contempt, curiosity, and hope in the crowd. She squared her shoulders, took a deep breath, and bowed deeply, with her hands clasped together.

"I'm sorry," she said, "For taking over the school, making Spirit Week all about me, treating you all like garbage, treating Star like garbage, and being a giant full of myself bitch. I had no right to behave like I did, and I want to make it right. Spirit Week by Wong is over and dead… this is your dance now, and you're all welcome to attend it while the night's still young."

Brittney did not bring her head up, instead keeping it down as she heard the murmurs of suspicion and debate ripple around her. Finally, it was Hope Hadley who removed herself from Moobs lap and called out.

"Let's go to our freaking dance!"

Immediately all the partiers present on the roof broke into cheers and headed towards the portal–Roland stepping aside and gesturing to the entrance like a doorman to direct the cheering, whooping, and hollering mob where to go. As everyone on the roof of the store stampeded through the portal and into the gymnasium, Mabel walked over to Brittney, and rested a hand on her shoulder.

Leaning close, she whispered. "That took a lot."

"You have no idea," Brittney whispered back.

"Trust me, I do," she promised.

Brittney stood upright as the last students began to file in–Peter, Ashlyn, Moobs, and the already dancing Hope bringing up the rear.

"Hey, are you gonna tell Jackie and Star that they can come to the dance, now?" Hope asked.

Brittney visibly flinched at the thought of Star showing up but quashed her feelings towards the Princess. This wasn't about her anymore. "Of course; it's their dance, too."

Mabel smiled. "Leave that to me, I'll go round everyone up."

Peter nodded to Roland. "Don't know what went down, but good job, man. The party up here was good, but Convenience Store food for a party's kinda lame, you know?"

Roland agreed as he and Peter shared a fist-bump. "Well, there's more than plenty to go around. Head on in and enjoy yourselves."

Peter smiled back and led Ashlyn through the portal with his hand on the small of her back. The frizzy-haired girl smiled to Roland and Mabel. "Thank you so much!"

"Y-yeah," Moobs said as he came up next, Hope now hugging his arm as she heard the music coming through the other side. "Tonight's already been going really good, you know?"

"Come on~!" Hope whined as she turned and pulled Moobs into the portal. "They're playing my song~!"

Turning to Mabel, Roland grinned. "Damn, how do you do it? I was pretty sure they were going to tell her to swan dive off the roof."

Brittney nodded. "Me too."

Mabel hooked a thumb to herself. "It's all in the charisma, guys! You gotta just grab the crowd and squeeze until they can't breathe!"

They entered through the portal, letting it close behind them. The now much more crowded Gym Floor was livelier than ever, as students both impeccably dressed and showing up in their street clothes partied as one big happy school. Drew and Sabrina were back in the crowd, dancing together, and Janna and Chantal were even closer to one another as they bounced to the energetic beats blasted from the DJ's table.

Misao and Megan were waiting beside the portal as it closed, Megan all but tackling Roland the moment he stepped into view. "Now this is a dance!"

Roland managed to catch himself with his cane and put and arm around her. "It ain't a school dance if the school ain't here."

"Let's go!" Megan said as she ushered him to the dance floor. "It's about to be wylin' out there!"

Misao smiled at Brittney, and over the music called. "Du hast das Richtige getan! I no longer hate you!"

To seal that declaration, she hugged Brittney, who jolted in surprise. After a moment, she sighed and returned the hug, unused to such physical affection.

"I'm not done yet," Brittney said before she looked to Mabel. "I've still got to bring her in."

Mabel pulled out her phone. "I can call her."

Brittney shook her head, and after pulling away from Misao, she turned for the door. "No, I want to do this personally, too."

As Mabel and Misao began to follow her, the former was keen to notice muffled beats that were definitely out of synch with the music–and coming from outside.

"If I know her, then she's right outside, waiting for anything to happen. I can't imagine a girl like her sitting still for five seconds, let alone almost an hour…" Brittney said as she went towards the Gym's front doors, just before she was approached by one of her security detail. "What is it?"

"Miss Wong," the svelte-suited security cyborg said, "We have an ongoing situation."

= - = 6-7 = -=​

It feels SO GOOD to get this bad boy done. Next up, the Hammer Kong to fall.

 

[The Ero-Sennin]

Time for a fight, and the end of sever other conflicts besides. The penultimate chapter of Volume 6 is here.

= - = 6-9 = - =

|Hammer Down the Nails|​

Across the street from the school, Shermie and Ferguson were enjoying their third sodas of the evening, while Star and Alfonzo were fiercely debating his economic development plans for Pixtopia.

"Wh-whu-?! Tax the…?! Why would you tax the peasantry?!" Star demanded of Alfonzo, after hearing of his economic plans for the Pixie Kingdom.

Alfonzo shrugged his shoulders. "Why not?"

Star slapped the back of her right palm into her left hand. "The peasants already do all the labor, and they barely have any money as it is! Do you want a peasant uprising? Because that's how you get a peasant uprising!"

The vehemence of Star's answer surprised Alfonzo. "Well, I can't tax the nobility, they always threaten to revolt when I raise the taxes on them."

Star groaned. "Alfonzo, you're the absolute and tyrannical ruler of Pixtopia. If the noblility revolts, you can just crush them, take their crap, and give it to someone who plays ball. There's only a few of them, you can replace them anytime with anyone! If you get a peasant revolt, you have to crush a lot of guys!"

That was Alfonzo hadn't considered. "… Huh! Smashing a few nobles does sound easier than razing entire cities…"

Star snapped her fingers and pointed at him. "Exactly! Plus, smashing a single house of nobility means that the rest of the kingdom's infrastructure keeps running smoothly. Use that monopoly of force, Alfonzo, crush the rich and redistribute their wealth to someone who can do the job!"

Ferguson raised his hand to his mouth to whisper aside to Shermie. "Uhh… Mr. Pines? I don't think I like where this conversation is headed?"

"Not exactly fond of it myself, kiddo. But I'm thinking they know something we don't. After all, we ain't from around there." Shermie replied.

"Okay, then," Alfonzo said as he gestured to Star with his soda, "What about representative democracy?"

Star held a hand up to about her height. "Pixtopia needs to be this literate for democracy to work."

Alfonzo nodded. "Oh, I can't do that, then," he said before holding his hand at about the height of Star's knees, "Because Pixtopia is about this literate."

"Yeah, that's about right." Star agreed.

Loud clanging footsteps began to fill the air, drawing the attention of Star, Shermie, Ferguson, and Alfonzo along with the dance's security down the street. Marching straight down the middle of the street, his head tilted up towards the flashing holographic marquee, was a seething and grumbling Hammer Kong.

"Oh cool, what's that?!" Ferguson said.

Alfonzo recognized it. "Hey, that's Hammer Hands, from Big Bad Beetleborgs!"

Star and Shermie both looked at Alfonzo with alarm, with the former asking, "Wait, are you sure…?!"

The Combat Mecha followed the streaming beams of light down to their source and saw the gymnasium with lights flashing faintly in the windows. Looking at the hologram emitter, he let out an angry growl before unleashing a burst of lasers from his sole eye, destroying it.

And like that Star got up and began running straight towards Hammer Kong.

"HEY!" Hammer Kong shouted at the dance security as they quickly drew firearms and pointed them at the Combat Mecha. "WHAT IS A SPIRIT WEEK BY WONG AND WHY IS IT SO IMPORTANT, HUH?!"

"Unknown combat cyborg," one of the security personnel said as he stepped closer with a bead drawn on Hammer Kong, "You're trespassing with hostile intent. Leave the area immediately."

Hammer Kong slammed his hammer hands together. "CYBORG?! CYBORG?! DID YOU JUST MISCATEGORIZE ME AS A CAN OF MEAT?!"

"HEY!"

Hammer Kong turned from the guards to Star, who stood in the middle of the street, holding her wand at her left side.

"I don't know what your deal is, but you're not going anywhere near that dance," she said resolutely.

Hammer Kong was mildly perturbed by that. "A dance? THERE'S A FREAKING DANCE OVER THERE?!"

He raised his hands above his head. "I HATE DANCING! I WASN'T PROGRAMMED WITH RHYTHM!"

Star got ready and then said as she replied, "Then let me teach you!"

And she was gone, running straight at Hammer Kong as a green glow built around the head of her wand.

Hammer Kong let out a metallic screech. "OH GOOD, YOU WANNA BE A NAIL!"

Rearing back, Hammer Kong let his right arm extend backward before swinging it up and over his head down where Star would be. "KONG CRUSH!"

Instead of flattening Star, the hammer smashed into the street, as Star sidestepped the weapon. Jumping onto Hammer Kong's arm, she ran up the overextended limb before pointing her wand at his face.

"Laser Beam Blast!" Star shouted, and the wand responded with nothing but more of the green goop from before, splattering it all over Hammer Kong's minimalist face. "Shoot…!"

Jumping from his arm, she landed on the back of Hammer Kong's clawed head, then leaped like a swan off him. Inverted in midair, she aimed the wand at Hammer Kong's legs. "Super Narwhal Blast!"

Instead of Narwhals, more sludge struck and accumulated at Hammer Kong's legs.

Star flipped herself and landed in a crouch, cursing under her breath as the Combat Mecha was only stuck in glittery sludge.

Hammer Kong shook his head and tried to move his legs. "WHAT IS THIS GLITTERY, GIRLY GOOP?! I HATE BEING SLAPPED WITH CAULK!"

Alfonzo and Ferguson both began laughing hysterically from their cover behind Shermie's SUV. Hammer Kong did not appreciate that.

"YOU THINK GETTING CAULK SLAPPED IS FUNNY, HUH?! LAUGH IT UP BEFORE I HAMMER YOU INTO MUSH!" Hammer Kong yelled.

"Bro, I don't swing that way!" Ferguson called back.

"WHAT'S WITH YOU MEATBAGS TURNING EVERYTHING INTO INNUENDO?!" Hammer Kong roared as steam began to hiss from his joints.

"In your end-o!" Ferguson chimed back.

"I'M GONNA SMASH THIS PLANET IN TWO!" Hammer Kong yelled, steam ejecting from all his joints and blasting the glitter sludge from his body.

One last dig, Ferguson could not help himself. "Not cool, bro, you gotta get consent, first!"

Star finished her next message on her compact at that moment. "FERGUSON! STOP MAKING IT MAD!"

Hammer Kong wound up to swing at the SUV with his left arm, when Star sprang into action, jumping onto his arm as it swung back and running along it to jump and kick Hammer Kong in the side of his hammer head. To her displeasure, her blow barely off balanced him, but did enough to cause his overextended arm to fall limp to the ground.

Star landed in front of him, wincing from how numb her leg felt after kicking so much metal, but not so numb that she couldn't dive clear of Hammer Kong's right arm coming down from above. As she landed, Hammer Kong winched in his left arm and thrust it towards her, but she nimbly jumped and twirled out of the way.

"Forget it…!" Star aimed and fired the wand again. "Green Glittery Goop Blast!"

This time the spell poured on like a out of a firehose, spraying all over Hammer Kong's chest and face. From behind the mask of goop, Star saw light shine from Hammer Kong's sole eye, and she twisted away from a laser blast that burned through it. Flipping, somersaulting, and twirling left and right, she retreated from Hammer Kong and the blasts he fired at her.

As the lasers stopped, Hammer Kong let out another frustrated yell. "STOP JUMPING AROUND AND GET HIT ALREADY!"

From his mouth slit, a barrage of glowing nails fired out, quickly growing into foot-long spears that embedded in a line up to Star, but she jumped clear of the barrage to her right.

Back behind the car, Alfonzo and Ferguson watched as Star fired another Green Glittery Goop Blast at Hammer Kong, concerned by her limited spell set.

"Hey, why isn't Star using her cool super destructive magic?" Ferguson asked.

"Yeah, that goop spell would be really useful in Pixtopia, but this isn't working." Alfonzo said.

Shermie, around at the front passenger door of the SUV, opened a case of green-colored shotgun shells, and began loading them into a Mossberg 500 shotgun he pulled from a rack in the back seat. When Ferguson and Alfonzo saw the old man calmly loading such a wicked-looking shotgun, they both grew wide-eyed in amazement and excitement.

"If she ain't using her big guns, she's probably worried about hittin' the school," the elder Pines replied as he loaded round after round into the weapon, "Last thing she wants is for that to happen."

He peeked over the hood of his SUV as Star evaded another hammer swing and got around Hammer Kong. Another Green Glittery Goop Blast to his back, finally turned the Combat Mecha around and away from the school.

"IS THAT THE ONLY SPELL YOU GOT?! NOVICE WITCHES PISS ME OFF!" The Combat Mecha yelled.

As he fired more lasers at Star, Shermie got the gist of what she was doing. "You kids stay down and outta sight, this ain't the movies," he said as he pumped the shotgun to chamber the first round.

Star was already working up a sweat as she used her acrobatics skill to make herself as difficult a target as possible for Hammer Kong. The robot's poor range of motion was working in her favor but hitting him back with anything significant was impossible with his durability.

Shoot, shoot! I have to dip down; I can't fight this guy with my wand like this! She thought before she dodged another barrage of nails that punched into a parked compact car–turning it into a fuel-efficient and environmentally friendly pincushion.

Dipping down would work, but that required time to cast and stamina. She'd need someone or something to distract Hammer Kong for her.

"Hey, ya ugly putz!" Shermie shouted to Hammer Kong's left. When the Combat Mecha turned to face him, he aimed the shotgun from behind another car. "Welcome to LA!"

He opened fire, the rounds hitting and exploding against the side of Hammer Kong's head, his left shoulder, the left side of his chest, and down at his left hammer hand. Even as the rounds exploded against him, Hammer Kong just turned his head to look at Shermie.

"IS THIS HOW YOU WELCOME PEOPLE, WITH EXPLOSIVES!" He yelled before Star caught the right side of his head with more of the Green Glittery Goop.

Shermie ducked down behind the car to reload. "Since the LA Riots!"

"GRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH! I KEEP FINDING NEW LEVELS OF ANGER!" Hammer Kong yelled as he broke into a mad charge towards Star, jumped and swung both hammer hands and his face down to try to flatten her beneath them.

The magical princess, however, escaped the attack–but was left to look at the deep crater it left behind. "Oh my gosh!"

Hammer Kong stood upright. "IF YOU DON'T STOP RUNNING AROUND AND LET ME SMACK YOU INTO THE GROUND LIKE A GOOD NAIL! I'M GONNA GET REALLY ANGRY!"

Star raised her wand. "Have you tried counting to ten and calming down?!"

Extending is right arm high above his head, Hammer Kong swung down at Star. "I CAN ONLY COUNT DOWN FROM TEN!"

@@@@@

At the front doors to the gymnasium a furious Brittney pushed them open and heard the clang of Hammer Kong's hammer smash into the ground. She looked up the street to see Star narrowly avoid the blow and hit Hammer Kong with more sludge. Almost right after that, Shermie opened fire from a new position, further up the street from Hammer Kong.

Mabel gasped. "Sherpa!"

Misao looked at the rest of the street, the nails in the road in front of the school, the crater further down it, and Hammer Kong even further beyond that. "… Ah!"

Looking at the destroyed projector and the damage to the street, Brittney turned to her security. "What's going on?! Why haven't you gone after that thing?!"

One of the security personnel nearest to her turned to address her. "Before we could engage, the HVT engaged it on her own and began drawing its attention. A civilian began engaging as well, and they appear to be moving the hostile away from the school, Miss Wong. The hostile appears to be driven purely by rage and completely irrational, attacking him would've only brought its attention back this way."

Brittney looked down the street, and at Star as her agility placed her out of reach of her attacker again.

"Green Glittery Goop Blast!" Star yelled, as she avoided once more hammer swing.

Hammer Kong used that same swing to bring his arm up and block the sludge, before he turned and tried to shoulder barge her. At the last second, Star jumped and kicked off his back, landing behind him.

When his charge stopped, Hammer Kong began to turn again, when he was fired upon by Shermie again. "YOU NEED TO KNOCK IT OFF, MEAT BAG!"

"Take it back to the second rate-hardware store you crawled outta, schmuck!" Shermie defiantly taunted back.

"SECOND RATE?!" Hammer Kong fired a barrage of nails, but Shermie taking cover behind the engine block of a parked pickup truck protected him from the barrage.

"THIRD RATE!" Star yelled as she came down on him with the wand again, blasting him at point blank with another goop blast. "You can't even hammer nails right!"

"THAT'S BECAUSE THEY KEEP MOVING!" Hammer Kong yelled, trying to smash Star flat with both hands and his own face. Star jumped back from the blow at the right moment, but the force of the triple impact sent her flying back.

Misao did not like what she was seeing. "Her magic is still not working."

Mabel agreed. "No, she's still bugged like crazy by something."

Brittney crushed the fan in her hand as she realized what Star was doing.

"Mabel," she barked, and Mabel looked at her.

"What?"

Brittney held out her hand. "Give me back the scissors, go back inside, and tell the DJ to turn up the music. Don't let anybody leave unless it looks like that thing is coming back this way."

She looked back at her. "Smother them with that charisma of yours."

Misao tilted her head to one side as she stared at Brittney. "And what are you going to do?"

"I'm going to get Star the scissors… and some security I hired are going to earn their bonuses."

Mabel lit up into a big smile. Without another question, she handed the scissors to her. "You can count on us!"

Misao agreed. "Ja, you will be careful as well!"

As they headed inside, Mabel pulled out her phone and began texting out an SOS. She knew Drew and Roland wouldn't be able to slip out of the dance… but there was still her brother, Marco, and Jo she could reach.

Brittney let the door close behind her and walked towards the street, the Dimension Scissors in hand. Looking at Star's position, she saw her slowly get up as she watched Hammer Kong rise from his own crouch to face her.

"I can do this all night!" Star taunted, even though she was pretty sure she couldn't.

Hammer Kong slammed his hands together. "I'VE BEEN DOING THIS FOREVER!"

More explosive rounds struck Hammer Kong, and the angry machine quickly turned his attention back on the old man. "I'LL HAMMER YOU ALL UNTIL THE SUN BURNS OUT!"

Before Star could take advantage of the diversion, she heard Brittney call out. "Hey! Star Butterfly!"

Star, surprised to hear Brittney's voice, looked past Hammer Kong in time to see her cut open a portal, creating a second one beside her.

"Get rid of that stupid thing!" Brittney yelled as she threw the scissors into her portal. "And for the next song I'll dance with you!"

Her eyes widening, and a smile spreading across her face, Star caught the scissors turned as Hammer Kong as the Combat Mecha peppered the truck Shermie hid behind. Springing into a run Star jumped in front of Hammer Kong and slashed open the air with the Dimensional Scissors.

Hammer Kong's laser bolts lanced into the portal, and blasted into him from above, damaging him for the first time since his attack began.

"Wha… whu?" Hammer Kong asked as the Combat Mecha felt that. "What… did… you… do…?"

As the portal closed, Star opened up a smaller portal, and the end of a handle slipped out of it. "Something that I wish I'd done earlier, but I'm gonna get to really doing now…"

Slowly Star pulled a long-shafted war hammer out of the portal, one of the many weapons stored in her room. Giving it a quick test swing, she nodded. "This should do the trick, and hey! We match, now!"

Red light poured from Hammer Kong's face holes, as he slammed his hammers together. "YOU'RE GONNA FIGHT ME WITH THAT PUNY INSULT TO HAMMERS?!"

Star charged Hammer Kong, calling to Shermie as she closed in. "Mr. Pines! Back me up, please!"

"You got it, girlchik!" Shermie yelled as he fired again at Hammer Kong's head, the frag rounds exploding just behind the right side of his face and against his neck.

When the blasts distracted the berserk bot, Star jumped and swung the hammer, smashing it into the same spot Shermie hit. This time, there was a massive clang, and Hammer Kong was sent stumbling to his left.

Landing, Star charged forward. "I'm not done yet!"

She smashed Hammer Kong in the chest, a ringing sound reverberating as the Combat Mecha staggered backward from her. She ran up to him, jumped and swung the war hammer down, striking Hammer Kong atop his head and forcing him to bow down.

"You're not…"

Landing, she turned in place and smashed the hammer into the left side of his head, sending him hobbling back the way he came.

"… Getting anywhere near…"

She pursued him, raising the war hammer above her head and smashing it into Hammer Kong's back, driving him off his footing and sending him crashing down onto the ground face first.

"THAT DANCE!"

Stepping back, panting, Star spun the hammer in her right hand behind her, twirled it around above her head in her left hand, and then caught it in both to point the head at Hammer Kong. "How's that for puny, you cheap robot?!"

Shermie called over. "Nice shot, kiddo! I'm outta ammo, can you handle it solo while I go reload?!"

Star watched as Hammer Kong began to get back up. "I've got no choice either way, go–!"

Hammer Kong then raised his hammers and smashed them into the ground so hard that the street beneath him exploded. Shermie ducked down, narrowly avoiding flying glass and shrapnel as the car's windows broke, and Star quickly leaped back as she was pelted by pieces of street flying at high speed.

Launched into the air by his own attack on the ground, Hammer Kong reached the top of his flight and fell towards Star. "YOU DAMAGED ME! NOT EVEN MY OWN CREATOR DAMAGED ME!"

Star scrambled, getting far enough away from Hammer Kong again for his impact with the ground to just send her flying rather than turn her into paste. Lifted off her feet and tumbling through the air, Star lost her war hammer and landed hard, rolling along the street before she sprang up to her feet and stopped.

"I'M GONNA HAMMER YOU… ALL YOU MEATBAGS… THEN I'M GONNA GO BACK AND HAMMER NOXIC… THEN I'M GONNA HAMMER THIS ENTIRE PLANET… AND THEN I'M GONNA HAMMER NOXIC SOME MORE!"

Star shook the cobwebs out of her head. "Why don't you just go hammer Noxic?!"

"DON'T YOU TELL ME WHAT TO DO, YOU NAIL!" Hammer Kong roared back, smashing his hammer hands together. "I'LL SMASH ALL OF YOU! UNTIL THIS WHOLE UNIVERSE IS ONE BIG NAIL DRIVEN INTO NOTHING!"

Star tightened her grip on her hammer. "Uuugh… you are so obnoxious! I wish you would be quiet!"

A faint thud echoed in the distance, before Star saw something descend from on high, falling straight for Hammer Kong. An instant later, the Red Strikerborg crashed down onto Hammer Kong, her punch flattening him into the ground and making an even deeper pit in the street.

Behind her mask, Jo glared coldly down at Hammer Kong as she drew the Input Magnum and pointed it at his head. "How does it feel to be the nail?"

She fired repeated shots into the robot, multiple explosions going off, before with a roar Hammer Kong swung its arm back at her, forcing her to leap off him.

Jo landed on the street, right beside Star, and looked back at the crater Hammer Kong was getting up out of. "Crap… of all the Combat Mecha, why this one?"

Star looked at her. "Strikerborg, what are we up against?"

"Hammer Kong is one of Noxic's most heavily armored monsters in the comic. It took bringing out all three AVs and even Gargantis to finally take him down." Strikerborg revealed. "Just our luck, it's exactly as tough IRL as it is in the comics… my Input Magnum only scorched it!"

Star looked at Jo. "We'll never break him trying to pen."

Jo looked at Star. "Huh?"

"It's gotta be brute force," Star said, "Armor's no good if you can hit what's underneath it until it cracks from inside out."

She looked ahead at Hammer Kong as he slowly stomped out of the crater. "If my magic worked, we'd wear him down faster… but it doesn't."

Jo frowned behind her mask. "It's not working?"

"That green goop! It's been like this for days now, I can't cast any other spell from the wand because the wand's messed up!"

"HEY! RED ROBOT!" Hammer Kong bellowed. "IT'S YOUR TURN TO BE THE NAIL!"

Brittney Wong retorted. "Ugh, shut up."

Heavy caliber gunfire crashed into Hammer Kong, as the security detail Brittney Wong hired to protect the dance unloaded on Hammer Kong with Light Machine Guns, Anti-Material Rifles, and hand cannons.

Star gave a start. "Whoa!"

The Red Strikerborg looked at the security personnel. "What the hell…?!"

Pulling her phone out, Brittney hit a speed dial contact and brought it to her ear. After a single ring, a cheerful woman answered the call.

"Hench Co, because why get upset when you can have people get upset for you?"

"This is Brittney Wong," Brittney replied as she pointed her phone at Hammer Kong and took a picture of him, "Condition Black: Slip the leads."

"At once, Miss Wong, we're releasing the hounds now!" The woman on the other end of the line happily replied.

As Hammer Kong raised his right arm to protect himself from the gunfire, the barrage ended and was replaced by a new sound filling the air that the Combat Mecha had never heard before. Behind Shermie's car, as the elder Pines reached it, he, Alfonzo, and Ferguson heard it as well… the rustling buzz of thousands of cicadas.

The sound was replaced by a thunderous galloping, and then the bellowing moo of an enraged bull seconds before a pair of massive machines passed on either side of Jo and Star.

Hammer Kong lowered the hammer in time to see two strange machines rear up over him. Both resembled a tank turret perched atop a pair of long digitigrade legs that gave them simultaneously a birdlike and reptilian appearance. Each one had lifted a leg off the ground, before unceremoniously driving them into Hammer Kong's chest as powerful kicks that sent the Combat Mecha bouncing back up the street.

Star looked up at the machines, and just blurted out in amazement and excitement. "… WHAT ARE THOSE?!"

Ferguson knew what they were and yelled at Brittney. "Dude, you seriously brought Gekko UGs as security for your freaking dance?!"

"Of course, I did!" Brittney shouted back.

After a short instant, Ferguson answered. "THIS IS THE COOLEST DANCE I NEVER GOT INVITED TO!"

Shermie whistled. "Wow… didn't think you could get Shol Par commercially."

Noticing the elder Pines and seeing the gun in his hands, Strikerborg called out to him. "Mr. Pines! We've got this under control! I need you to go to Hillhurst, right now!"

Shermie lowered his weapon. "You sure you got this, Red?"

"Between all of us, we got this," Strikerborg said. "Now, go, the clock is ticking!"

His eyes narrowing, Shermie recognized the urgency in her voice. "Roger." He turned and headed back to his vehicle, calling to Alfonzo and Ferguson. "Hey, Laurel and Hardy! We gotta skedaddle!"

"Why us?" Ferguson asked.

"Because this ain't no place for civvies, and I gotta go pick up my grandson and your friend. Let's get moving!" Shermie said as he climbed into his SUV. Looking to each other, Alfonzo and Ferguson shrugged their shoulders and climbed into the vehicle as well.

Brittney looked away from Hammer Kong as one of the Gekkos turned and back-kicked the Combat Mecha, allowing the other to jump and stomp on him with both feet, and called over to Star and Jo. "Hey! Are you going to finish that thing off or not?!"

Star called back. "Uh… just a second! We're working on a strategy~!""

Satisfied that Shermie was on his way out, Strikerborg reached out and placed a hand on Star's shoulder. "Star."

Star paused looked at her. "What?"

Behind her mask, Jo took a deep breath. "I'm sorry, for everything. I shouldn't have treated you or anyone else like I have, and I don't want there to be anymore drama between us."

Star brightened. "… Really?"

"Yeah," Jo replied. "I've got your back from now on… I'm not gonna act like a punk brat anymore."

Star literally brightened this time, the light filling her cheek marks as the green, sickly glow slowly faded from her wand. She could feel it, not just in the wand but in her whole body as the dark clouds that hung over were finally cleared. "All right, then I've got your back, too! And I'm gonna try to be less of a total spazzo."

Jo turned towards Hammer Kong. "Actually? I think right now, you need to be a total spazzo more than ever."

With an apoplectic yell, Hammer Kong swung his right-hand hammer into the legs of the Gekko stomping on him. The UG was sent flying and crashed to the ground as the second unit jumped back and imposed itself between Hammer Kong and the downed unit. Still yelling, Hammer Kong lunged forward onto his hammer hands and hammer feet before pushing himself up to standing.

"I hate this world…! I hate everything in it!" He boomed. "So many nails… so many freaking nails… that don't! KNOW! THEIR! PLACE!"

Taking the Royal Magic Wand in her right hand, and the Dimensional Scissors in the other, Star twirled them as the glow in her cheek marks appeared in her pupils and spread across the whites of her eyes.

"Strikerborg?" When Strikerborg looked over at her she asked aloud, so Hammer Kong heard it. "What do you say to the villains when the heroes show up to save the day?"

Jo grinned and turned back to Hammer Kong. "You say… run."

Hammer Kong let out a roar as he charged a laser. "I'LL RUN YOU DOWN!"

The Combat Mecha opened fire, targeting Star, but only hitting the chest and helmet of The Red Strikerborg, explosions of sparks and smoke erupting off her armor as she ran into the barrage of beams and pulled her right arm for a punch.

When she reached him, Hammer Kong's own flexible right arm was already up and coming down to smash Strikerborg flat. With a yell, Strikerborg aimed her superpowered punch into Hammer Kong's falling blow. When their fists crashed into one another with a near deafening clang, a shockwave rippled outward visible from the air it condensed.

The blast struck Star with enough force to send her flipping backward through the air in surprise. "Whoa-whoa!"

Recovering in mid-air, she slashed the air behind her with the Dimensional Scissors and disappeared into the portal she created. Behind her, the blast struck Brittney and her security detail, nearly knocking the cyborgs off their feet; Brittney herself, however, stood firm as her hair whipped behind her and watched resolutely.

His hammer grinding against her fist, Hammer Kong snarled. "DON'T THINK YOU'RE SO TOUGH BECAUSE YOU DIDN'T BUDGE, YOU'RE JUST A STUBBORN NAIL!"

Appearing out of the exit portal above the two and slightly to Jo's left, Star spun like an axle as she fell. When she reached him, she swung out her wand. "WILL YOU SHUT UP?! RAINBOW FIST PUNCH!"

Instead of green glitter, the colors of the rainbow swirled from Star's wand, coating it and becoming a fist of light that hit Hammer Kong. To the Combat Mecha's shock, blow connected with enough force to lift him off his feet. Lunging forward, Strikerborg plowed a left hook into the lifted Hammer Kong's waist, knocking him backward and up the street.

The Red Strikerborg wasn't going to let him get away, using her super strength to leap after and overtake Hammer Kong in mid-air, swinging her right hand down in a powerful punch.

The super strength and Beetleborg powered blow connected with Hammer Kong's chest, and the robot's horizontal flight was diverted into the vertical into the street. Coming out on the other side, Strikerborg tumbled and jumped back onto her feet to face the plume.

"You're just one angry son of a bitch, huh?!" She asked. "But don't worry, I get it!"

As Hammer Kong lay in the shallow crater his body made, he lifted his dented and scorched head up. "THE ONLY THING YOU'RE GONNA GET, IS SMASHED INTO SCRAP!"

A small portal opened just beneath him. On the other side of that portal, Star aimed her wand at it as the glow in her cheeks and eyes brightened.

"Mega Geyser Windstorm!"

In a flash of blue light, the Wand conjured a torrent of steaming water that shot into the portal, and the plume of smoke and dust that marked where Hammer Kong lay was replaced by a geyser that launched the Combat Mecha into the sky over ten meters.

Above the geyser, Hammer Kong tumbled end over end, screaming, before gravity brought him falling back down. Spotting the glowing yellow eyes of Strikerborg below him, Hammer Kong yelled and swung his left hammer down at her.

His punch met another uppercut from Strikerborg, the two blows meeting canceled all of Hammer Kong's downward momentum, and cracks appeared in the head of his left hammer and beneath her feet.

As the Combat Mecha hung in the air, as if balanced on her fist, she called out. "It feels so good to be angry, doesn't it?!"

A portal opened behind Strikerborg and Star leaped out of it to the Beetleborg's right, aiming the wand at him.

"Super Shooting Star Explosion!"

With her yell, three large spinning yellow stars flew from their wand. The first one smashed into him, knocking him backward from Strikerborg. The second star hit even harder, causing the Combat Mecha to bounce off the ground and into the third spinning star. When that star exploded, Hammer Kong was propelled in a straight trajectory up the street like a missile.

One of the cyborgs, the head of the protection detail, watched this in quiet disbelief. "What… what are we looking at?"

Up the street, towards the intersection the school ended at, another portal opened, and a stream of Crashing Mode fire emerged from it, followed by Strikerborg herself holding down the trigger of the Input Magnum. The bolts exploded all over Hammer Kong's body with growing frequency and intensity as the distance between them closed.

The head of the detail reached up to his sunglasses. "… This is real, isn't it?"

He looked at Brittney, who was still standing in front of them, watching the fight with her arms folded.

Star swiped the air with the scissors and her war hammer slipped through it to it to land on her shoulder. Putting away the scissors, she caught the hammer's shaft in one hand and her wand over it before tossing the wand straight up. The medieval weapon transformed, the head becoming larger and the flat head becoming a rocket exhaust pipe that erupted with a magical exhaust, before the wand came down for Star to catch in her teeth.

Screaming in rage, Hammer Kong landed on his feet and stumbled as he lunged with a right arm swing at Strikerborg. "GO DOWN, YOU NAIL!"

Strikerborg did down ducking under the swing and punching him in the chest with a right of her own to make him step back. "You don't have to feel anything else!"

When he retaliated with a diagonal swing using his left, she weaved the other way and hit that same spot with a left. "You can't be sad, afraid, or inadequate if you're raging at everything!"

"RAGING IS ALL I KNOW!" Hammer Kong spat nails down at Strikerborg, the projectiles cutting small divots into her armor as she turned herself around and performed one of Marco's crescent kicks. Her form was sloppy, ungraceful, but her strength more than made up for it.

The blow connected with the side of Hammer Kong's head turning his whole body in place so he could face Star. Her war hammer's engine spewing flame, bunnies, rainbows, stars, and unicorn ponies, the Princess hurtled at the combat mecha at high speed before she planted her feet and swung into a full circle, gathering momentum so that on her second rotation she caught Hammer Kong right in the cracked and split armor of his chest.

Gripping the rocket hammer with all her might and biting down hard enough she thought her teeth could crack, Star let out a yell and continued her swing–the rocket engine's output growing into a solid, sparkling flame as she lifted Hammer Kong off his feet and began to swing him around and around.

Hammer Kong howled as he began to spin around faster and faster. "NO! I'M BREAKING! STOP!"

"GOOD!" Star yelled as she jumped and twisted her body, the rocket motor carrying her and Hammer Kong straight up. "BECAUSE YOU'RE SUCH AN ANNOYING JERK!"

With one more scream, she swung Hammer Kong straight down at the ground, yelling to Strikerborg as she did.

"END HIM!"

When Hammer Kong struck the street it shattered, the explosion of dust and dirt rocketing upward and spreading out to obscure all the combatants. Seeing such a display of force and ferocity, Brittney let out a quiet gasp as her eyes grew wider.

Hammer Kong had struck the ground so hard that this time he had bounced–his massive, armored body floating upright as the cloud of dust his impact made was suddenly cleared over the whine of a turbine. In front of the Combat Mecha the Red Strikerborg stood with her right arm raised and the whirling Striker Plasmar crackling with power as it reached maximum RPM–a spinning cone of plasma coated her arm like the flame from an afterburning jet engine.

Behind her mask, Jo let out a joyful little laugh. "Annoying is right, that's all angry people who can do nothing but lash out at everything will ever be."

She pulled one of Star's twirls–building all the momentum she'd need for her punch.

"I won't let my anger turn me into something as pathetic as you."

Like a comet, Strikerborg's punch crashed into Hammer Kong's torso, and the Beetleborg yelled out.

"TORNADO SPARK!"

A thunderous crackling, as loud as Jo's yell, followed as her fist connected and Hammer Kong was blasted into the air like a Railgun bolt.

The ground shuddered under Jo's feet, and every window for blocks warped and rattled as the tumbling Combat Mecha, torn in half by the blow hurtled skyward towards the moon overhead.

Star had just hit the ground when the force of Strikerborg's finisher almost knocked her over, the same blast catching Brittney's hair and dress like a strong breeze while once more her security was caught off guard and buffeted by its force.

Inside the gymnasium, the entire building shook slightly, drawing the attention of the dance's attendees, Mabel and Misao looking upward with surprise as the lights briefly flickered and the windows wobbled.

Reaching the apex of his flight, plasma sparking and jets of flame shooting from his broken body, Hammer Kong looked at the empty, moonlit-sky above and let out a final, furious lament.

"I'm still mad."

Hammer Kong exploded, a smaller blast that tore him apart followed by a much larger one that vaporized his remains and lit up the night.

Star, catching her footing, grinned at the explosion a big smile on her face. "That's what I'm talking about!"

Behind her, as she began to do a victory dance, the stunned cyborg security personnel could only continue to stare at the light. The head of the detail lowering his glasses so his prosthetic eyes could take in all of it clearly.

A distance away, Ferguson and Alfonzo looked back when they saw the sky light up.

"What was that…?" Alfonzo asked.

Ferguson, watching the explosion, just shrugged his shoulders. "It's Star, she probably finally stopped holding back." He let out an indignant snort. "After we all leave!"

Shermie checked his driver side mirror to glance at the blast after pulling into Hillhurst's long driveway and let out a laugh. "That's certainly enough boom to be the case!"

On the roof of the school, her arms folded, and her cloak closed around her, Jara watched Hammer Kong's body disappear with the last of his fury and flame.

Uncaring of an angry idiot's end, Brittney's eyes were locked on Star and Strikerborg. Focusing on the former, she nodded slowly as a new appreciation and understanding reached her.

Star Butterfly, the magical princess, the psychopath with no impulse control, the idiot from another world…

"Ah… I get it."

Her right arm still extended skyward, Strikerborg held the position as the Striker Plasmar snapped into their locked position, arcs of red energy crackling from her arm to her body and the ground beneath her. Slowly, she lowered it and looked at Star, who turned her grin onto her.

Behind the mask, Jo let out a small laugh as she had a single thought after seeing Star go all out and tag team a monster with her.

My friends are the coolest.

= - = 6-9 = - =​

Anger purged.

 

[The Ero-Sennin]

And now, we wrap it up. Keeping it a bit shorter than other codas.

= - = 6-10 = - =

|Dancing All Night|​

In the wide open, mahogany-floored living room of the Vanderhoff Residence, Trip lay on a massive black couch that surrounded the home theater system whose screen was projected as a hologram just above the wall in front of him. He was on his back, staring up at his phone. On the right side of the couch, Van was scrolling through his phone, with its screen projected onto the hologram screen to reveal his Instagram feed. Like his brother, he was awaiting a message.

Behind the couch, across the living room, Dudley stood by the door leading to the home's pool deck. The old butler, keen to keep an eye out for "Goblin" infiltrating the yard, looked out over Echo Creek from the hills the home was built on. From here, he could see the fire that burned in the valley where the old Hillhurst Manor was located and the brilliant flashes of explosions from Echo Creek Academy.

Such sights left him tight-lipped, grim almost.

Letting his hand holding his phone drop to his chest, he looked at Van's projected screen and saw no new messages there. "Come on, where is he?"

Van looked over at him. "Dude, chill. He's probably being thorough, or flexing on them, you know how those Minuano wannabes gotta be."

Trip pouted and grumbled. "We totally should've gone with him and watch him get it done."

"Right?" Van agreed.

Dudley wrung his hands behind his back. "And then what, Master Trip?"

Going still for a second, Trip shot upright and turned to Dudley. His right eyebrow was arched as high as Van's left as the brothers stared at their normally taciturn butler–who was more content to simply acknowledge their orders than give lip.

"What do you mean, then what?" Trip asked. "If Pine Tree, his friends, and his whole stupid family don't pack their bags and leave LA after Goblin's done with them, then they're going to leave LA packed in bags."

Dudley visibly cringed. "You are suggesting…"

"I'm through playing around with them," Trip said cutting him off, resolved. "This is the only warning they're getting: that next time we're gonna kill them all and there's nothing they can do about it but run."

Van nodded, feeling his brother's bloodlust.

Dudley turned his head to look back out at the town below and the city of LA beyond it. "And what if after this they are not intimidated, and decide that they must escalate?" He asked. "What if Princess Butterfly comes here in response to whatever 'Goblin' may have done to her friends?"

And just like that, Van' lost the vibe as he was reminded of the magical thermonuclear device that helped stomp them.

Trip didn't care. "Whatever. If they don't figure out how screwed they are after 'Goblin' is done with them, then they're too stupid to live."

Van expressed his concern. "Um… we should think about what to do about Star Butterfly. I don't want her doing that creepy magic stuff."

Trip rolled his eyes. "I'm not scared of any of them, anymore, and neither should you."

He gestured out to his living room. "Look around at what we have! What we can throw at them! We're untouchable, and that there are consequences for even trying!"

He turned to their butler. "We snap our fingers and people like Goblin–or you for that matter, Diethard–shut your mouths and make our problems go away. I don't understand why that's such a difficult concept for you to grasp–what do we even pay you for if you can't?"

Shutting his eyes, Dudley took a long deep breath. "Of course, Master Trip."

That was the only response Trip wanted to hear from him. He turned to his brother. "From now on, we're going all in and throwing as much cash as we can to get rid of all of them. Like I said, if they don't get the hint and get out of our sight? Then it's on them what happens next."

Van, his fears pushed down, nodded as he trusted his brother. "All right…"

On the projected screen, a brand-new Direct Message conversation started. Looking up at it, Van and Trip watched the screen as the latter opened the message to see who was contacting them–someone with the name SSJ5Gogeta.

SSJ5Gogeta: Hello! Is the bounty on Pine Tree still up for grabs?

Trip and Van looked at one another.

"Well, is it?" Van asked.

Trip glanced back at Dudley and let out a laugh. "Yeah, tell him that the reward is half a mil now."

Letting out a small chuckle, Van typed up a response.

V Squared: Actually the bounty went way, WAY up! It's 500k Bro.

The response was immediate.

SSJ5Gogeta: WHAT! O_O

Trip laughed louder. "Tell him he can get a full million if he can put Pine Tree's sister in the hospital, too, however he wants to do it."

Of course, Van complied without hesitation.

V Squared: If you can put his sister in the hospital, you can have one million. Two for one, get it?

GogetaSSJ5: I GET IT LOL ^_^;;;;

Trip grinned from ear to ear as he looked back at Dudley. "Do you see? This is easy for us."

In his best impression of an old man's voice, he mocked his butler's concerns. "'WhAt iF tHey EsCaLaTe?' That's what you sound like, afraid of a bunch of bums."

Van called his brother's attention back to the screen. "Dude, look."

GogetaSSJ5: Okay! I can do it as soon as Monday! I gotta get some stuff together first and then Pine Tree is toast! Do you have his address or anyplace I can get at him?

Van replied all on his own.

V Squared: 4845 Avocado Terrace. He lives with his granddad, his sister, and this fat foreign chick named Misao Darlian. You'll get extra if you can mess her up, too. She's kind of a bitch.

GogetaSSJ5: Oh? Misao Darlian, right? TYVM, I'll keep that in mind ^_____^

Trip nodded to Van. "Good idea, we'll throw in an extra 250k for her."

"Half for the half-pint, right?" Van asked.

Trip threw himself back on the couch, his smile murderous as he rocked back and forth with anticipation. "That's right! Those idiots have no idea the shitstorm that's headed their way."

@@@@@​

"Hostile eliminated," the head of Brittney's security detail reported as the blast cleared. "All units stand down."

Brittney walked past them, headed for the school. "If there's nothing else to worry about, go back to your positions."

The head cyborg turned to her. "Miss Wong, there's a little matter about the street, and the damage…"

Brittney shook her head. "Don't worry about it."

Inside her armor, Jo wanted to go slack, but she stayed on her feet. "Phew… what a night…"

And it was far from over, she realized. "… Shit…"

Then she looked around at the absurd amount of damage that the fight had done to the street and a few vehicles. "… Shiiiiiiiit…"

Quickly she scanned around and noticed that Brittney and her security weren't the only ones watching. In the windows, on doorsteps, and even on front lawns of almost every house on the block in front of and adjacent to the school, people were watching–and either cheering or trying to figure out what had just happened. And of course, almost everyone had a phone or camera pointed at the street.

"… Shiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit…"

Jo turned towards Star, who seemed to be completely ignorant of their audience as she held her wand in both hands. The wand was glowing brightly in a blue light that gave off flickers of green, then red, before it settled on becoming a soft violet.

"What…?" Jo asked.

The air began to swirl around Star's feet, before she held the wand aloft and pointed it at the sky. Lifting her up at the wand as the swirling grew, Star opened her now fully glowing eyes as the updraft lifted her hair up past her shoulders and fanned it out.

"… Super… Dipped Down…!" Star called out before she pointed the wand down at the broken street beneath her feet.

"CUTIE KITTEN CLUTTER CLEANERS!"

Another shockwave, this one made of purple magic and adorable kittens wearing little maid costumes shot out in all directions–washing over the street and destroyed vehicles. When the blast passed this time, the street and the cars were all repaired, as if they all hadn't been torn apart by the tremendous battle fought between Star, Strikerborg, and Hammer Kong. Even the damage done to the street by the earlier battle with Typhus and his Scabs was gone, leaving the black asphalt looking like new.

Stopping at the doors to the gymnasium, Brittney looked at the repaired street and vehicles. Even the hologram projector that Hammer Kong destroyed in his petulant fury was working again. She nodded her approval.

As the cheering from the spectating neighborhood grew, Jo, who'd been staring at Star the whole time she cast that spell, blinked several times. Did she just have actual butterfly wings there for a second?

When Star began to wobble where she stood, Jo reacted quickly. "Oh crap!"

Strikerborg bolted over to Star and immediately joined her side to support her. "Hey! You okay?"

With Strikerborg's help, Star steadied herself. "Yeah, I'm fine! Dipping down with the wand… isn't as bad as dipping down without it."

She let out a "hoo" and shook her head. "It would've been nice if Glossaryk told me that I could do that instead of ranting about hobo stew."

The two began heading towards the gymnasium, Strikerborg supporting her and gesturing for curious onlookers to stay back as they walked.

"So," she said.

Star looked at her. "Yeah?"

"Your magic is working," Jo pointed out.

Star nodded. "Two amazing things happened that helped me get it together. You and I squashed the beef… and I just got a dance with Brittney."

As they reached the sidewalk up to the gym, a message appeared–not in the group chat, but sent straight to Jo.

Marco said:
Its me Dipper

Jo tensed.

Marco said:
Grandpa just got here and we r on our way to the hospital

Jo sighed in relief, before more messages flooded in.

Marco said:
We r all in rough shape, but he says we're going to live

Marco said:
Marco and Jackie are both awake

Marco said:
Thank you for bailing us out against that guy

Marco said:
Is everyone ok? I saw the group chat is the monster gone?

Jo quickly sent a message back.

Jo said:
Star and me destroyed it. It didn't get anywhere near the dance.

Marco said:
Good

Marco said:
Im sorry

Marco said:
I was a dick

Marco said:
I wanted to talk to you about how we could sort out all the drama

Marco said:
And patch everything up

Marco said:
Because we r all stronger when the only thing we r fighting r the bad guys

Jo looked at Star again, then at Brittney as she brought the Princess to the door. She typed out a reply.

Jo said:
Ur right

Brittney nodded to Star as she and Strikerborg walked up.

"Hey Brittney, sorry for interrupting the dance," Star said.

Sniffing haughtily, she gave a quick glance at the street. "You cleaned it up, so I don't have anything to be mad about."

Taking a deep breath, Brittney let it out and her expression lost almost all its harshness as she looked directly at Star. "I don't hate you," she said quietly. "And… I'm sorry for all the mean names I called you, and for trying to drive you out of the school the first chance I got."

Before Star could forgive her, she quickly added. "I still think you're a crazy spazz and that wand is dangerous…!" She paused and resumed her more subdued tone. "But I get it."

Star was on the verge of gushing with happiness already from Brittney's apology. "You do?"

Jo said:
I dont want to be mad at the girls anymore.

"I mean, duh," Brittney said. "It's so stupid and obvious now: you're a warrior."

Star cocked an eyebrow. "Say what?"

"All that crazy energy you got! Any time you're using magic when you're not showing off, you're trying to blast something or fight or whatever."

Star hummed. "Well… yeah. I mean… I've been beating up monsters since I was like three. My dad's a barbarian, and my mom apparently waged an entire war, so fighting's just something that's in my blood!"

Brittney gave Star an affirming nod. "And I get that, now. That's just who you are, and as long as these stupid monsters keep showing up, at least you'll have something to go off on, right?"

Star, overcome with joy, abruptly hugged Brittney, surprising her like Misao did.

"That's right!" Her chin resting on her shoulder, Star replied. "And I get you, too."

Jo said:
I want to be friends with everyone esp the other girls

Rather than clumsily try to disentangle herself, Brittney just stood frozen in Star's embrace. "… Yeah?"

"I know we started way, way on the wrong foot, and you're totally okay with leaving the bridge burnt, but…" Star pulled back. "… I want to be your friend."

Brittney stared at Star for a moment, long enough in silence to blink once, before she replied. "You're lucky I'm rich–I can afford to rebuild a stupid bridge."

Star's smile was incandescent, even with her helmet Jo had to look away from the girl before she hugged Brittney even tighter with a squeal of excitement. "I'm a Princess, remember? I got money, too. Whole country and monthly tributes from noble houses money."

Jo said:
Becuz ur so right. When we fight 2gether we are freaking awesome.

Hesitantly at first, Brittney returned Star's hug, and got squeezed harder as a consequence. Rolling her eyes, she rested her chin on Star's shoulder, all of her tension absent. "Yeah, Princess money is no joke."

She pulled back and turned towards the door. "But enough about how rich we are; I said I owed you sa dance if you took care of that thing."

Star squeezed Brittney again. "No-takesies-backsies~!" She sang as she opened the door and hauled Brittney in after her, the head cheerleader letting out a squawk as she was pulled in. Watching her go and the doors close, Jo let out a small laugh and turned to walk away from the doors. As she walked past the cyborg security, they stood a little straighter, the head of the detail nodding his head in respect to her.

She liked that.

Jo said:
It's so much better than fighting alone and being angry for no freaking reason. I'm gonna apologize to your sister, Misao, and Janna the first chance I get.

Marco said:
Go do it at the dance.

Jo said:
OK I feel bad though… they're going to be so mad when they find out what happened.

This was serious and everyone needed to know, but at the same time… she and Star just saved the dance and Star was able to be there with their friends. She had already punched whoever the hell that attacked them into the next county, and even with the adrenaline rush gone, she wanted to do even worse to Trip and Van.

There was a good possibility that after telling Mabel, Misao, and Star… they all may end up going to the Vanderhoff residence and putting them in the hospital, too.

Provided Trip and Van were fortunate enough to make it there.

Marco said:
I dont want the Vanderhoffs to ruin their night too

Marco said:
Tell them after the dance and come meet us at the hospital. We can talk about how we are going to deal with this later

Letting out a relieved sigh, Jo acquiesced to his request.

Jo said:
All right, Ill let them know after the dance and we will be over to visit you.

The Vanderhoffs could wait. No, they would wait.

It will be the only mercy they get before what came next.

For now, Jo was going to get out of this armor… and try her hand at going to a school dance for once.

@@@@@​

Patched up enough that he was no longer indistinguishable from the ruin that was The Scraplands, Noxic was already at work rebuilding the pummeled wreckage of his workshop, which was still indistinguishable from the ruin that was The Scraplands. After spending the day sitting around and listening to Noxic talk then getting splattered all over a good chunk of the workshop and listening to Hammer Kong, Typhus was more than in a mood to work.

"Hey buddy, what do you think," Noxic asked, "We gonna put that grinder so I can get started on those Scabs?"

Typhus looked at him. "Yannow what? I think we can take our time on all that. Where'd you wantthat smelter to go again?"

Noxic brightened at Typhus' offer. "Oh man, you know exactly what to say when I've had a rough day." He pointed to his left, Typhus following the direction of his hand. "I was thinking we can put it right over there to the left of where I want the grinder to sit. Get a feed of scrap right into the fire, yannow?"

"Yeah, baby, I dig that," Typhus said as he folded his arms and nodded.

Jara landed behind them; the sound of her footsteps eerily light on the scrap metal behind them drawing their attention. With her mask in the way, there was no telling what her mood was, but she was standing as stiffly as she had been for the past few days as she stared at them.

Typhus held up a hand in greeting. "Hey, Jara, thanks for getting that guy outta here."

"Yeah!" Noxic agreed. "He was giving me a pounding headache, and I can't even feel that noise! What's the word?"

"That robot is dead," Jara announced in a neutral tone.

Noxic answered with unenthused surprise, like he'd just heard about Hammer Kong for the first time in years. "Oh yeah? How'd you do him in?"

"I didn't," Jara replied. "The Butterfly and one of the Beetleborgs destroyed him."

Noxic's reaction to that news was even less underwhelmed. "Huh, neat."

It pissed Jara off. "That's it?"

Noxic shrugged his shoulders. "Yeah, that's it. I'm actually kinda impressed, yannow?"

"Yeah, Ham-Hands wasn't exactly a pushover, baby," Typhus added.

Behind her mask, Jara's teeth ground. "I believe his name was Hammer Kong."

Noxic did not particularly care. "It's not like that matters, Jara, it's destroyed."

"I'm certain that it does!" Jara snapped back, and both Noxic and Typhus stopped.

Her firsts clenching, Jara glowered at her two comrades, as her temper burned brightly.

"His anger, all because you made him for the wrong job and then forgot about him. Then you treat him like he was an inconvenience and a bother." She shook her head. "No wonder all of your creations despise you."

Noxic placed his hands on his hips. "Yeah, and?"

Jara snapped at him. "Doesn't it even bother you in the slightest?!"

Noxic lifted his hands up and shrugged his shoulders. "No? Ham-Hands was a robot, made to do one thing… and that wasn't to be my friend."

He shook his head, and looked from her to Typhus, and then back. "You can't just build friends. That's not how that works. I could build the greatest freakin' robot in the world and program it to be my best buddy for life… but it wouldn't come close to bein' as real as you or Typhus over here–and it definitely wouldn't be as real as what you have with your mercenary pals."

Jara was struck by his words. "… N-Noxic…"

The machine man walked over to Jara and put an arm over her shoulder pauldrons before gesturing to her and Typhus. "You're my best buds, and the coolest guys I know. Don't ever forget that, okay?"

Heaving a sigh, Jara nodded. "Sorry; I guess I'm still processing…"

"No, no… you do what you gotta do to get through it. We're here for ya!"

Jara was moved by Noxic's reassurance, and she looked to Typhus–who appeared to be in thought.

"Hey, that's all true, and I'm glad you said your shot, baby," he said to Noxic, "But uh… what about Macho Number 5?"

Steam exploded from Noxic's vents as he pulled away from Jara and screamed furiously at Typhus. "WE DO NOT TALK ABOUT MACHO NUMBER 5!"

Typhus recoiled. "I'm just sayin'–!"

"YOU AIN'T SAYIN' CRAP!" Noxic yelled.

Jara began to chuckle, and almost broke into a laugh before she felt a strong, fearsome chill. Noxic and Typhus both stopped their bickering as well as well, a downpitched groan leaving the mechanical man's mouth as he turned around to find Vexor standing at the edge of the workshop site.

"Interesting," Vexor said as he scanned the site and The Scraplands beyond it.

"And here I thought the worst of today had passed," Noxic grumbled.

Typhus stepped up. "Uhh… hey Vexor, you come to check up on us?"

"Yes, I wanted to amend my previous orders in light of the evening's interesting events," he announced.

Typhus grunted. "Huh? What do ya mean, Vex?"

Vexor gestured with an open palm to him. "You suggested summoning a monster to keep tabs on the children and perhaps poke at them. I'm giving you permission to act as such–there is something that I want to know, and I need something with the ability to infiltrate to find that out."

Jara and Noxic both looked at Typhus, who was intrigued. "All right, what do you want to know?"

Vexor closed his clawed open hand into a fist. "I want to know the identities of the Beetleborgs, and why their allies protect that secret."

@@@@@​

In the back seat of his million-dollar car, Señor Senior Junior was lying on the bench seat, his knees drawn up and his lips pursed in a disgusted grimace.

In the front seat, Shego looked back at him. "You were real excited a few minutes ago when you said you found someone who knew where the girl was. What's up?"

Looking up from the phone, SSJ nodded. "Oh, I was… I very much was… they've even given me an address."

Shego, driving along, glanced back at him. "What are we waiting for, then?"

Turning off his phone screen, Junior rested his head against the car door, just below the window and sighed. "You know how it is hard to determine feelings through the internet?"

Shego rolled her eyes. "Unlike Dr. D, I only use the internet to keep up with the news and look at cute animal videos, why?"

Junior closed his. "Nevermind. Would you like to make a little more money on that ransom payout?"

Shego smirked.

"I'm listening."

= - = 6-10 = - =​

The night and Volume 6 of Legends: A Story of Lies, is now over. Next time, something that's been a long time coming along with a recap to help people who have just gotten here to know what's going on.

 

[The Ero-Sennin]

Good day. Got a little bonus scene to fully wrap up Volume 6. Volume 7 progress is moving along smoothly, but with what's to come a quick bit of revelatory dialogue is needed. Enjoy!

= - = 6-EX = - =

|Last Dance|​

With few knowing how close the dance came to total disaster, the Echo Creek Academy homecoming dance went on with more energy, joy, and celebration than ever before. Amidst the laughing and dancing students and Brittney's expensive and visually stunning decorations, rainbows, stars, and cute animals arced and swirled through the air as they were conjured by Star. She lit up the dance floor with her wand, like a living pyrotechnics display, as she partied with her friends.

All the divisions and tensions created by Brittney's obsession with perfection had been forgotten, and Brittney herself had been forgiven. The "Spirit Week By Wong" bracelets that had been her brand separating classmates from their happy memories were strewn everywhere–on the floors, on tables, and even some in now empty punchbowls.

Choosing to keep his as a memento of what they'd overcome tonight, Roland spun it around his fingers while he watched the dancing in a corner next to the gymnasium's folded up bleachers–a spot he'd chosen for a little space from the crowds.

His spot away from the dance wasn't a solitary one. Being in corner and out of mind of everyone else, several other students had gathered beside him, including Drew and Sabrina, who were sitting beside one another on the floor, eating some cake they grabbed from a refreshment table and were piling on with a can of whipped cream.

His date for the dance was still on the floor, dancing in a circle around a shower of yellow, gold, and orange glitter and sparkling lights shooting from Star's wand. Mabel, Misao, Janna, and Chantal were among the girls accompanied Megan–but what was so much more surprising was that Jo was there with them, sparkling in the same lights as the other girls as she laughed and urged their Ring Around the Rosie to go faster with the music.

"Nice," he said quietly, approving of the much welcomed vibe that had taken over.

Brittney, covered in glitter and a few glowing motes of light, walked past and leaned against the wall beside him, to his left. There was a weariness about her that spoke of her long day, and the emotional roller coaster she'd no doubt been on this evening alone. It all looked like everything was catching up with her.

"Almost done for the night?" Roland asked.

Brittney closed her eyes. "Mmh. I'm ready for the dance to be over, and to go home and sleep until Monday."

Roland agreed. "Nobody's gonna be mad at you for ending the party after a few more songs."

There was no better note to end the night on than now.

Brittney looked back out at the dance, then glanced at Drew and Sabrina. Sabrina was spraying some whipped cream in her mouth, while Drew was cheering her on chanting "Chug!"

She looked back towards Roland. "Yeah, I think a few more songs is fine."

He'd noticed where her gaze went. "I'm gonna be real; I respect what you got with your squad."

Brittney raised her right eyebrow. "Hm?"

"They got you, flaws and all, 'cause you got them."

"Of course, I do. Unlike those dumbasses, I know how to make friends."

Roland agreed with a nod. "You're gonna make a few more after tonight."

Both looked towards the dance floor, and at the party around Star. She had changed the glitter color to all those of the rainbow, and the spread of the shower now occupied the whole dance floor. Almost all the other people on it were circling her in different directions like it was pop music mosh pit.

Though she had bowed her head in apology, and the good-natured students of Echo Creek Academy had let bygones be bygones, Brittney felt a remorse Roland could see in her expression when he looked from the dance back towards her.

"I really fucked up," she said.

Roland nodded. "Yeah, you almost did."

"This isn't some big fancy gala like Northwest Fest… it's just a school dance where everybody goes to hang out," she looked down at her feet. "The only reason it's even in the news is because those stupid monsters tried to wreck it."

In consolation, Roland raised a good point. "At least word isn't going around about it because of how you tried to keep people out."

Brittney's eyes widened in horror. "Oh, shit… I don't think I'd survive that."

Letting out a laugh, Roland quipped. "A great perk of going to a third-rate public school: nobody cares except the people who go there."

That managed to turn the corners of Brittney's lips up a little. "Yeah… no one cares but us."

"Yep; some of us care too much, some care way too much, but hardly any of us don't care at all… and those that do only care about themselves," Roland finished. "As bad as this could've gone, at least it happened because you care about the school, and when it came down to it… you care about everyone."

Brittney sighed. "I should be better at showing that."

Roland agreed. "This is a good start."

She narrowed her eyes as she mulled on something, before asking him, "Can I come clean about something? I don't think I've even told 'the squad' this."

"I do have that 'you can tell me anything' quality about me–for whatever reason," Roland replied.

Shooting him a brief look, then rolling her eyes, Brittney turned her attention back towards the dance and looked specifically at Mabel. "Northwest Fest, the last one."

"What about it?" Roland asked.

"I was there."

At first confused by that admission, Roland stopped when he remembered what Dipper and Mabel had told him about what had really happened. "… Oh."

"I know you hang out with both of the twins. Did they tell you what happened there?"

Roland answered cautiously. "… Yeah, they did. I'mma be real, and say first off that I kinda thought it was BS."

Or he would've called it BS… if he didn't meet a wish-granting phasm that turned him into a superhero with speedster powers.

"It wasn't," she revealed. "There was a ghost, he turned us all into wood statues, and… afterward basically all of the out-of-town guests had their memories wiped by Dipper and that weird old hillbilly friend of his."

"… Except you," Roland replied.

"Yeah, as soon as I wasn't wood… I left. I got into my family's car and told my driver to floor it until we hit Portland."

She looked aside. "We got ticketed three times."

Her attention drifted to Star. "… That made sure I'd hate Star Butterfly the second she pulled some magic shit I didn't like."

So, it came from something traumatic, Roland understood that. "Look, even then… you're not wrong for being upset at Star for what she did Heck, even she thinks so."

"Yeah, and Star is from another dimension where fighting monsters and medieval battles is a normal thing for her. Just like how being a tyrant who must control everything was…" Brittney stopped and reflected on what she said, then corrected herself. "… Is normal for me."

As Drew and Sabrina, no longer preoccupied with their desserts listened-in candidly, Brittney shook her head. "If I wasn't so preoccupied with Spirit Week and keeping her out of my social distance then, I might've realized that she just didn't understand our world and could've explained things to her. But, you know… I didn't exactly put much thought into it."

She let out a small huff. "Exactly as much thought as she put into the possibility that our world is different from hers."

Looking in Star's direction again, she couldn't help but let that huff out again as more of a resigned laugh. "We're the same… not thinking at all about what our actions do."

Roland added, "And being able to accept responsibility for it."

Brittney stared at Roland, and her smile turned up a little more. "… Well, it's better than being a dense idiot like Trip and Van."

"Always," Roland quickly agreed.

Turning to Sabrina, Drew gave her a big smile as she giggled, before he leaned closer and whispered something. Her eyes widening, Sabrina's smile matched his and they both begin chortling among themselves. Roland couldn't not notice it and wondered what they were thinking… until Drew began pouring all the whipped cream that he could onto Sabrina's empty dessert paper plate.

"Trust me," he went on, seizing all of Brittney's attention, "You will never, ever be as bad a person as Trip Vanderhoff or his brother. Girl, you are too smart to be that dense."

"Did you know those two just come here so they can be richer than everyone?" Brittney asked.

Roland nodded. "Oh yeah, you don't have to tell me. They always gotta remind my Nano that she rents the space for Zoom."

"I swear, Preston Northwest cucked their so-called father twice because they're just like him."

Roland laughed a bit hard. "Nah, I met their Dad before. Trip fell straight down from that tree and hit every branch on the way."

Letting out a laugh of her own, Brittney relished having something to hock some venom at. "Head-first."

Roland doubled over a bit, playing it up a bit–even though it was genuinely funny. "Aha! Hahahaha~!"

In fact, he was just loud enough to garner the attention of their classmates, and some began to look their way.

Brittney brought her head back to laugh herself–when she immediately noticed the mass of white moving out the corner of her eye.

She turned her head, just slightly, in time to see Andrew McCormick swinging a plate-full of whipped cream for her face.

SPLAT.

Once more, a deafening silence returned to the gymnasium, as all eyes fell upon Drew rubbing the plate into Brittney's face, making sure as much whipped cream as possible went everywhere. When he was satisfied with the coverage, he slowly pulled his hand back and left the paper plate to stick to Brittney's face.

Out on the dance floor, Star slowly lowered her wand as she, Mabel, Misao, Janna, Megan, Chantal, all the students formerly dancing, and all the cute magical animals she summoned stared.

After a moment or two, the plate unsealed itself from the mess and slipped to the floor.

Brittney blinked her brown eyes wide open, staring through the mess on her face at Drew, who was licking his fingers clean of some of the whipped cream that got on them in the process of pieing her. She looked just past him at Sabrina, clutching the can of whipped cream and biting hard on her lower lip to keep from bursting into laughter.

She then looked at Roland, who was wearing the positively most smug face she'd ever seen on the man as he leaned on his cane and tilted towards her to utter a single word.

"… Gotcha."

Brittney continued staring at Roland, silent.

Ten seconds passed with her unblinking, wide-eyed gaze locked onto him.

The DJ standing at his booth also stared in silence at the scene–before Jo made her way over to his table, scanned his mixer, and pressed a button seemingly at random.



It was perfect. Without warning, a torrent of whipped cream erupted from over her mouth as she sputtered into loud, raucous, and relieved laughter. Sabrina lost it shortly after, nearly falling forward as she laughed like a hyena rather than a nervous fox.

And that was that, as the entire gymnasium began laughing and cheering.

"My boy!" Roland yelled as he stepped forward towards Drew, both swinging their right hands in to catch one another in a firm, celebratory handshake.

Drew grinned mischievously. "Well, since this is a school dance now, it needed a school dance prank."

"Yeah, but a pie to the face? Classic, but she could've killed you." Roland said after letting his hand go.

Drew brought his hand to his chest in a mock solemn gesture. "Then I died for the craft."

He glanced out to the dance floor and immediately caught Janna's gaze, her expression a mix of mischief, schadenfreude, and pride.

"You're not going to die," Brittney said, pulling his attention to her as she wiped off some of the whipped cream, still laughing. "But you're not escaping unscathed!"

And with speed that caught him by surprise, she smashed a palm-full of whipped cream into Drew's face, while Sabrina–her eyes gleaming–turned the whipped cream can on Roland, laughing as she did.

"Oh no!" He yelped as he was showered with the confection.

As the music came back on again, Mabel beamed down at Misao. "Isn't this nice?"

All sunshine and rainbows, Misao answered. "Ja, this is the best party I've ever been to!"

Janna turned to them both. "And to think the night is still so young. Hey, Star?"

Star sidled up alongside her. "Yes~?"

"I'm thinking after-party," the Queen in Yellow suggested.

Star gasped. "Oh my gosh. We could go to St. O's for the after-party! It'll be insane~!"

Mabel reached into her cleavage and pulled out her phone. "I'm gonna tell Marco that we're coming to grab him, Jackie, and Dipper to take them there."

"Yes!" Star quickly said. "The girls at St. O's have been fiending for Marco to come visit again!"

Janna really liked where this was going, as Mabel quickly swiped out a chat with her thumbs. "We should grab the other boys, too. I'm sure they'd find St. O's an experience."

Star giggled. "Janna, you're so…"

She trailed off when Mabel went still, and her smile vanished. The tall brunette blinked several times as she read the screen, before her expression darkened into something simultaneously horrified, cold, and enraged that worried Misao, startled Star, and even had Janna taking a step back.

"… M-Mabel?" Misao, cautiously, asked.

She did not realize Mabel was capable of such a frightening expression.

Janna had a very bad feeling at that moment. "Are you okay?"

Star stepped closer. "What is it?"

Lowering her phone, Mabel said to all of them in a tone level with fury.

"We need to go, right now."

= - = 6-EX = - =​

See you in a few weeks with the start of Volume 7.

 

[The Ero-Sennin]

Good morning, my lovely friends. It's time for more Legends. Let's get to it with the true beginning of Volume 7. If you're new here, get started at Volume 1.

Forgive, again, the MTL German lol.

= - = 7-1 = -=

|Feud|​

With Spirit Week By Wong over, Echo Creek Academy was back to normal. The gaudy decorations were taken down, the blues, purple, and pink preferred by Brittney replaced by the school's proud orange, yellow, and red livery. Also returned was the laid back and cheerful atmosphere of the school, as students laughed and talked about what had ended up being one of the best dances in the school's long history.

Heather was glad to be back in Echo Creek, and back where everything looked and felt familiar. After stuffing her face with more barbecue than she ever wanted to see again at Lake Tahoe, she was even looking forward to the school's vegetarian meatloaf.

Even better, everyone was in such a good mood that the dance must've gone pretty well, too.

Reaching her locker, she noticed one of her classmates, the wide-eyed and vibrant Hope Hadley, at the locker adjacent to hers. She was standing intimately close to the large and in charge Moobs Squitson, who was red-faced and laughing nervously as she spoke in an inaudible whisper. "Uhh… hey Hope."

Hope perked up and looked back at Heather. "Oh, hey, how was Tahoe?"

Moobs looked at her, looking a little embarrassed. "H-hey Heather."

"Uh, hi Moobs," Heather replied. "And it was fine… just family stuff."

"Great!" Hope cheered before she more gently corrected her. "Oh, and um… his name's actually Mark."

Moobs, or rather Mark, nodded. "Yeah."

Heather could not stop herself. "Oh, hi Mark."

Hope hugged his arm. "And he's my boyfriend~!"

Mark's face turned a brighter red as he smiled sheepishly. "Y-yeah…"

Staring at them both, blinking owlishly, Heather nodded. "Awesome. Good for you two."

Though… if her wide eyes didn't make it clear, she was very confused. "When did this happen?"

"Over the weekend," Hope replied, "I went to the roof party at the Stop and Slurp instead of the dance. I ended up hanging out with Mark, and it turns out he is just… the sweetest~!"

She hugged his arm tighter, and Mark looked like he'd died and found out heaven was real. Heather suddenly felt great about her life just standing beside the two.

"You two are just so precious," she said sincerely, her hand on her chest, before bringing up the aforementioned dance. "What happened with the dance and all that?"

Hope gasped. "Oh my gosh, you missed like so much!"

Mark agreed. "Yeah… so much stuff went down…"

Heather made a slight nod. "I'm getting that vibe. Can I have the teal deer?"

Letting go of her boyfriend's arm, and making a little squee when he placed his hands on her shoulders to rub them Hope lifted her hands. "Okay, okayokayokay… Abridged Version: Brittney got over herself, and invited everyone to the dance and it was freaking lit."

Heather's eyes widened again. "Really?"

"Star Butterfly and Brittney squashed the beef, and they're cool now. They even danced together for like three songs."

Now the blonde's mouth dropped open. "No way…"

Gesticulating madly, but not so much that she shrugged off Mark's hands, Hope kept going. "And then Andrew McCormick just walked up and smashed her in the face with a plate full of whipped cream in front of everyone."

Heather was stunned. "Wait… Drew pied Brittney in the face?"

"It was so good!" Hope said. "Everybody was laughing so hard, even Brittney! I almost passed out from not getting enough air–andthemolly."

Heather caught that. "And the what now?"

"Nothing. Yeah. But Drew is like… the most hype dude in school right now," Hope quickly continued.

Smiling at that, Heather looked around. "Is he here yet? Have you seen him?"

"Do you hear cheering classmates? He's not here yet," Hope replied before she broke into a cheeky grin. "Oh yeah, um… he didn't go solo to the dance."

That gave her pause. "He went with someone. A girl someone?"

Mark answered. "Yeah, he went to the dance with Sabrina Backintosh. Heck, he showed up as part of Brittney's entourage."

"He had moves like Dio," Hope added.

And Heather went right back to being stunned. "… Whoa."

She had seen the selfies Roland had sent her, and really liked how Drew seemed to be enjoying his evening, but this was huge–she needed to hear it from the man himself.

It was at that moment her morning took a turn, and not a good one, as Trip and Van walked into the outdoor locker area with their usual unwarranted swagger. Spotting her, Trip adjusted his glasses and brushed his fingers through his curled bangs as he walked over to her, Hope, and Mark.

"Oh, hey Heather. Hope your weekend was nice," he greeted.

Rolling her eyes as Hope and Mark both grimaced at the Vanderhoffs, Heather turned to them. "Trip, I just got here."

Van stared at Mark and Hope, the former's hands still on the latter's shoulders. "What's all this?"

"We're dating now," Hope said.

Mark, quailing in the presence of the bigger Vanderhoff, just nodded.

Van laughed. "But he's a fat fuck."

Hope leaned back against Mark as he winced, reassuring him of her affection while the look she gave Van was murderous. "Do you two have any other energy besides 'walking pieces of shit?'"

Heather agreed. "Yeah, come on."

Trip shrugged his shoulders. "Do I look like I give a care about what any of you think about 'my energy?'"

"Yeah!" Van sharply snapped back while feinting towards Mark and Hope.

Heather shook her head. "Go be gross and up your own butts somewhere else. I'm trying to have a nice day."

Trip chuckled and shrugged his shoulders. "You could be having a great day, but uh… if I remember correctly, you decided to pick that fat loser Andrew over me."

Mark looked down at Hope. "Andrew's not fat."

She looked back up at him. "I know, right?"

"We're not dating," Heather firmly reminded Trip. "If I remember correctly, I told you that just before Dipper Pines knocked you into Glendale."

Hope chimed in. "Ooh, I still have a video of that saved to my phone."

Rather than break down into seething, Trip just let out a sharp chuckle. "Oh yeah, Pine Tree, have you seen him around this morning? I heard he had a rough weekend."

Hope, Mark, and Heather all looked at one another, with some confusion.

"I only got home late last night," Heather said.

Trip, still smirking, conceded to her ignorance. "Yeah, I guess you wouldn't know. But from what I heard, he fucked around with the wrong person, and found out what happens when you do."

Heather narrowed her eyes. "… Did you do something?"

Trip raised his hands defensively. "Whoa, hey, who said anything about that?"

"Because it sounds like you did," Heather spat back, "And you are stupid enough to brag about something like that."

Now Trip was offended. "Excuse you? You're hot, but I know you're not that dumb, Heather."

Misao's snarling German cut through the air behind them, as the small foreigner marched towards them. "Wenn du nur klug genug wärst, um zu erkennen, wie dumm du bist!"

Trip turned to her. "Uh, excuse you? I don't speak Nazi–"

As he spoke, Misao brought her hand back and slapped Trip with enough force to knock him backward towards his brother. When he caught himself, his hand on the red mark on his cheek, Misao shrieked at both brothers.

"Das ist noch nicht einmal das Schlimmste, was du verdienst!" She pointed at them both. "Es gibt kein Zurück mehr, ich werde alles zerstören, was du hast! Du wirst nichts haben!"

Heather, stunned at Misao's rage, watched as tears rolled down her face in her tirade. "M-Misao…!"

In English, as other students stopped and stared, Misao finished her ranting. "I WILL EVEN TAKE YOUR NAMES FROM YOU!"

Between them both, Van reacted first. "Yeah, what are you gonna do, half pint?!"

He quickly stopped when Mabel came around the corner and pulled Misao back from the brothers. With a hand over her mouth, Mabel gave both a hard look.

"We know what you did," she said as Misao huffed loudly over her hand and struggled to get at them. "My brother, Marco, and Jackie all ended up in the hospital."

Van recoiled a bit, hearing that Jackie Lynn Thomas somehow got involved. "… What?"

Trip huffed. "What did we do?"

"Yeah, what did you do?" Heather pressed.

Mark whispered. "Oh shit… did he really put a hit out on him?"

Hope shook her head. "No way he's that twisted…"

"He is," Mabel revealed. "He's been paying people to go after my brother since we got here, and finally someone got him good."

As the other students gasped in surprise, Mabel focused her attention back on the Vanderhoffs. "You don't get to walk around and pretend what you did is okay, okay?" She spoke. "You want the smoke? Well you're in luck, you're going to get the smoke."

"And you will choke on it and die!" Misao yelled at them.

Trip laughed in their faces. "Oh yeah? What are you going to do, tell a teacher? Call the cops? Try to beat us up? I don't care what you think you can do. I will literally pay back the worst you try a million dollars more!"

He looked around at his impromptu audience. "I can buy and sell all of you! Your lives are a week's allowance for me! A month's if you think you have money!"

He turned back to Mabel. "So square up, THOTs. If you think you have anything that can change how the world works? Show me, right now."

Heather looked back and forth between the two groups, caught between shock and terror at the fury that Misao openly roared, and Mabel didn't. And the sheer disgust and horror at what Trip had devolved into after only a few weeks from getting punched in the face. Beside her, Hope was now cowering behind Mark, who despite his own consternation was determined to be a wall between the conflict and his new girlfriend.

Mabel stared back at Trip but paid no small mind to Van. She could see it in the bigger Vanderhoff's eyes–that despite his smaller brother's braggadocio, there was a fear of consequences that Trip was outright disregarding.

"No need," she said, "As the legendary hottie Jack Burton says, 'The check is in the mail.'"

Misao snarled. "And nothing you can do will stop it from being cashed."

Mabel covered her mouth. "Girl, I know you're heated, but you're too cute to have your blood pressure this high."

Trip scoffed. "Whatever. When this is over, you're going to do the right thing and get out of my town."

He turned away from them and kept walking, aggressively gesturing for Van to follow him, which the bigger Vanderhoff complied with. As they walked away, Heather shook her head, her expression darkened to match how black her feelings were.

"What the fuck," she whispered.

Slipping her arms under Misao's and closing her hands together under her chest, Mabel hoisted the smaller girl up so her feet were dangling above the ground. She turned to Heather and managed to smile. "Yeah, don't forget, we've handled this kind of gross crazy before."

Hope looked around. "Has anyone noticed that there aren't any teachers around when intense stuff like this happens?"

"It always does!" Mabel said with an exasperated eyeroll.

"Sie werden leiden," Misao growled even as she surrendered to Mabel's strength.

"Wir werden dafür sorgen," Mabel replied to her, before switching to English. "Also, we gotta get you to class! Let's go!"

She began jogging in place as she said to Heather. "It's so nice to see you again, Heather! I hope we can get caught up and talk about all the good stuff that happened during our weekend!"

Heather, however, was still very concerned. "What about your brother, or Marco? Or Jackie Lynn Thomas?"

Mabel beamed. "Oh, they're fine, don't worry. They got patched up nicely."

She headed off, still carrying Misao. "I promise we'll talk more about it, bye now~!"

Heather watched them go and shook her head. "Wow… suddenly it feels like I've been gone for months."

Having missed the fiasco by dint of being in the cafeteria for breakfast, Drew walked up with Jo and Roland in tow. Overhearing Heather's lament, he smiled as he walked up to speak to her. "Yeah, same here."

Right away Heather brightened and turned to him. "Oh, hey Drewwwwwwww…"

She trailed off into a steady tone as she stared at the elder McCormick sibling, looking tall, confident, and absolutely fresh to death thanks to the tips he picked up and took to heart from his makeover for the dance. He wasn't as tightly dressed as he was as the dance, being back in his more comfortable daily attire, but he was wearing the Chuck Taylors Brittney bought him.

"… wwwwww…?" Heather finished, her entire face now a bright shade of pink.

Not missing a beat, Drew greeted her in turn. "It's nice to see you again, Heather."

Behind him, Roland and Jo both had their phones out and took pictures.

"Mine is going to the group chat," Jo said as she swiped her screen with her thumb.

Roland similarly fiddled with his phone. "And mine is going to Nano."

Heather snapped out of it. "Oh, come on!"

Defensively she turned away from them as Hope and Mark both laughed. "I was just surprised. You look great, Drew…"

Drew rubbed the back of his head. "Well, this is just stuff I learned after the makeover Brittney gave me."

Heather turned back to face him. "Yeah, I just heard about that. I want to hear everything."

Roland grinned. "Well, we still have a few minutes before the bell rings."

Drew agreed. "Yeah, from the moment you left, things have been… crazy."

As the Beetleborgs trio and Heather headed towards their lockers to get their belongings, and Hope and Mark joined the other students to head inside the building, none noticed the quarter-sized insect atop Hope's locker watching them go. If they had, they might have called for an exterminator. And if they had gotten a closer look, they'd have called for the school to be nuked from orbit.

The creature was reminiscent of a jumping spider, colored blue and white with large red liquid eyes in its abdomen and six red, spike-covered arms that ended in hooked, bony claws. Above the shoulders of its largest pair of arms, however, was its grotesque head consisting of a massive mouth full of interlocked, yellowed teeth, a pair of large oval nostrils, and two long feathered antennae.

The Synthetic Beast Kombat Knat ignored the three children talking with their black-wearing friend and instead scrambled along over the tops of the lockers at high speed in the direction Mabel and Misao went. Though outwardly expressionless due to his bizarre form, intensity burned in the creature's eyes as he raced for the optimal position to continue its mission.

@@@@@​

With a burst of swirling flame, Kombat Knat leaped to life from the pages of the comic produced by Typhus. He landed in a crouch within the closed off mausoleum, before rising to full height and turned to face Vexor, Typhus and Jara. The Mercenary Army General shrank back in horror as her Synthetic Beast Army General counterpart pumped his fists in triumph.

"Welcome to the world, KK!" Typhus greeted.

Tilting up to look at his creator, Kombat Knat sprang up in an excited leap. In a raspy, gurgling, high-pitched voice it greeted him. "Creator! Kombat Knat, reporting!"

"This has to be one of your worst creations," Jara said, her disgust dripping from her tone.

Typhus let out a laugh. "You don't want to meet my worst creations, baby."

Being an inhuman monstrosity himself, Vexor missed the negative aspects of Kombat Knat's aesthetic. "So then, what can this particular creature do?"

Typhus turned to Vexor. "Oh yeah, Kombat Knat's great. I made him for gettin' into things and spying on 'em. Plus, he can fight at any size, baby."

"It's not the size of the monster, but what you do with it!" Kombat Knat said while performing a pelvic thrust. "Heyoooo!"

Jara almost threw up a little. "I hate him, and I want him to die."

Kombat Knat turned to her. "Oh. Hello. I'm Kombat Knat, and I'm the insectoid horror who's not judging you on your appearance."

Jara folded her arms in disdain. "I see he and Noxic would get along."

"Yeah, he's got a great sense of humor, baby." Typhus said aside to her before addressing Vexor as Kombat Knat preened from the praise. "So, you gonna give him his marchin' orders or what?"

Vexor nodded before addressing Kombat Knat. With a wave of his hand, he created a scrying window that showed the faces of Dipper, Mabel, Misao, Star, and Marco. "Pay attention, I need you to stick close to any of these five humanoids and collect information regarding these three."

With another wave of his hand, he conjured images of the three Big Bad Beetleborgs. "Find me the names of the humanoids hidden beneath this armor. It is of the utmost urgency."

Kombat Knat buzzed affirmative. "I can do that for you, what you want me to do when I get the intel ya need?"

Jara was a little surprised that Kombat Knat was so quick to cut to the chase.

"Return at once, of course. All of them are a risk to face in battle–with the most dangerous being these four." Vexor dimmed all the images he conjured except for Star and the Beetleborgs. Avoid a battle at all costs."

"Bzzt! Got it, tail these fleshy weirdos and find out who are secretly robots," Kombat Knat clicked his claws together. "Do you want me to pass along any other useful intel that I might pick up?"

"Of course," Vexor replied, "Anything that may give insight to their capabilities and weaknesses. The more that you can find, the better."

Kombat Knat was happy to oblige. "Leave it to me."

Now Jara felt a bit bad for being so quick to judge. "Typhus, your creations are… disciplined."

"Of course, they are, baby! I raised them up good!" Typhus boasted back. "Don't tell me you forgot how Snake Head played his role with no problem."

Jara grimaced. "Forgive me, I actually had."

With a shrug of his shoulders, Typhus forgave her. "Don't worry 'bout it. You had a lot on your plate."

The Mercenary Army General turned her attention to Vexor. "So… what exactly is your plan and how do finding out who Beetleborgs are factor into it?"

Vexor tilted his head in a nod to Jara. "Valid questions; I shall be brief in detailing my intended goal: Knowing the identities of the Beetleborgs will make my plan for isolating and defeating them possible."

Jara let out a hum. "So that is the strategy, and why so many Scabs are required."

"Correct. The Butterfly and the Beetleborgs are the single largest threat of this group of children, but even then, I expect there to be more resistance once they are out of the way." Vexor sniffed. "I have my sincerest doubts that the defense of this entire world is hinged on just them."

Typhus was a bit taken aback. "You're saying that there might be other guys here who can throw hands with us, Vex?"

"I'm saying that it's a certainty. That little so panic has spread from our most recent shows of force suggests that this is a world used to the unusual and the outlandish. That the Butterfly and her magic goes free without drawing the attention of this place's authorities does the same."

Vexor looked at Typhus. "It also suggests that they are for now observing–watching our clashes and measuring the severity of the situation before intervening in force."

It did concern Jara somewhat that this world's armies and warriors weren't lining up around the proverbial block to face them. Even in the few days since their outright air assaults against the city, the locals didn't seem concerned, let alone in hysteria. "So, what then? We defeat the children and deal with this world's real protectors?"

"Precisely," Vexor said, "And if all goes according to plan… we will have the power of that magic wand, and the tremendous powers that gave these Beetleborg's life to sweep them aside in turn."

He performed a sweeping gesture. "That is our ultimate goal in this battle. For if these forces are enough to give hapless children the strength to fight us off, consider what it would be in our own hands–what we could do to this world… to this entire reality… to all realities…"

Typhus chuckled. "You're starting to sound like the Vexor in the comics."

With flair Vexor tilted his head and shrugged his shoulders. "It is an inspiring rendition. Quite flattering, too."

He swept away and glided across the floor to the sarcophagus, picking up a comic from it. "Actually… that is another objective I have in mind for the culmination of our plot."

"That being?" Jara asked.

"I would like to meet the author of this storied work face to face, so that he may reveal how he's come to know our faces." He turned back to them, holding the comic book open in his fingers. "But that's neither here nor there. Let us focus on the present, and the objective that will make that bridge passable when we reach it."

Jara huffed. "Well, when we do get ahold of that power, I am certainly not wearing any of that ridiculous insectoid armor."

Kombat Knat chimed in. "The arthropodal race thanks you for not attempting."

Typhus turned to Kombat Knat. "You got your marchin' orders, baby! Go out there and scope them kids out!"

Kombat Knat ground his teeth together and clicked. "You can count on me! I'll discover all their secrets!"

Vexor made another gesture, showing a scrying of the town of Echo Creek as seen from above for Kombat Knat. "Commit this map to your memory."

In particular, he focused on Echo Creek Academy, and showed its location relative to the cemetery. "Begin your surveillance here."

"Understood!" Kombat Knat said before bathing himself in a violet light and shrinking himself down to the smallest possible size–that of a US Quarter coin. At that size, it was no problem for the Synthetic Beast to zip off, shooting through a crack in the wall of the sealed off crypt.

@@@@@​

Reaching the end of the lockers and the gap between them and the door to inside the school, Kombat Knat stood on the precipice and watched the doors swing open and shut as students made their way alone or in groups. With his size and speed, getting in undetected was all but guaranteed. Either of the two humans that Vexor identified for him would likewise be perfect concealment.

"Both of them have those absurd lengths of that hair mammals need so much…" He mused aloud. "Disappearing into them and riding along to learn all their secrets would be perfect…"

He clicked his claws and ground his teeth. "Yes… perfect… this will be done inside of a… of a… a…"

Kombat Knat trailed off and looked away from the door. He turned his whole body to gaze across the street. Through his huge liquid eyes, his vision was filled with a wondrous luminescence… a light that captured and overrode all other thought.

"Bzzt."

His teeth ground and his claws clicked. Across the street from the school, and the homes that sat along it. Between two of them there was dense foliage that concealed it, but he could see nothing but its brilliance shining through. It captivated him, like a beacon showing the way.

"Bzzzzzz…"

Kombat Knat turned away from the light and stared at the door. "No! Do not look at the light! The bright… calling… guiding…"

Slowly, the Synthetic Beast turned away and began creeping to the edge of the lockers facing the glow.

Then he punched himself with a claw, spinning himself to face the opposite direction.

"The mission, you need to do your mission! The Creator has entrusted you! The Creator's master has entrusted you! Follow your orders!" Kombat Knat snarled at himself.

Sharp wheezing sounds followed as the insectoid breathed through its many spiracles. "I am a creation of Typhus, his faith in me is unshakeable. My dedication to the task he has served me is unshakeable. I Kombat Knat, will not fail! I will not be blinded by the light!"

For a few moments, Kombat Knat stood there, resolute, unmoving, focused.

And then, mission completely forgotten, Kombat Knat zoomed towards the glow that called to it from the bushes, buzzing loudly as it leaped towards his new glowing God.

"BUT I WAS BLINDED BY THE LIGHT! REVVED UP LIKE A DEUCE, ANOTHER RUNNER IN THE NIGHT!"

In seconds Kombat Knat skipped like a stone from the school grounds and across the street. Passing under the departing buses and narrowly avoiding being flattened by passing cars, the beast vaulted over the vast (to him) sidewalk and grass–the blades three times his height–before entering the dense forest that was a single bush and the source of the glow.

Stopping at the foot of the glow, the light radiating in mesmerizing waves, Kombat Knat just stared in silence. No thoughts, head empty, only the glorious light that shone brighter than any star, supernova, quasar or magnetar.

He could not look away.

He would not look away.

There was only the light… and how he would die for it.

Kombat Knat went unnoticed to the incandescence that bewitched him, for she wasn't so easily swayed by the first shiny thing to come across his path.

"Demeter to Scion, the target has just walked into the building," Shego reported from her hiding spot.

Señor Senior Junior responded through the earpiece she'd spoken into. "Very good. As we have planned and rehearsed, I will move at your call and accordingly to how you wish to approach–quiet, or loud."

Smirking Shego watched Star Butterfly walk towards the lockers, accompanied by Janna. "I'll give you an answer in a bit; for right now, though? I'm leaning towards loud."

= - = 7-1 = -=​

The endgame with the Vanderhoffs is on. The chickens are on their way home to roost.

 

[The Ero-Sennin]

The time for previews is over. It took less time than I thought, but also being more than I've written in such a short time. Nevertheless, for the next couple of weeks, Legends: A Story of Lies updates with Volume 7 weekly! Let's get right to it, with our very next chapter!

= - = 7-2 = -=​

|The Geek|​

"Thank you for dragging me away from those two," a less recalcitrant Misao murmured as Mabel jogged along, still carrying her like she was a stuffed animal. "I think I would have fought them if you hadn't held me back."

Mabel looked down at her. "You definitely got a good slap in! But I put all that work in on the gel so they can tear a face open if you need to, next time use them claws!"

Misao agreed. "Next time someone makes me that angry, I will."

"Speaking of work, do you want something new for your hair this week?"

Humming, Misao shook her head. "No, I'll wear this color for a little longer. It's very nice."

"I agree! Then I want to dye the underside of my hair red to match," Mabel said.

Misao leaned back into Mabel to look up at her. "Ja! You would look so amazing with red, or even pink!"

Mabel had an idea. "What about Barbie Pink?"

"That would be lovely!"

Content as she was to be cuddled by a jogging Mabel, it had to come to an end as the taller girl reached Misao's new homeroom. "Then we're gonna get started the first thing when we get home!"

Then she had an even better idea. "And Star's wand works, now! We can get her help!"

Set down, Misao bounced in excitement. "That would be perfect! I want to do amazing things with her magic!"

"I'll tell her about it in class." She hugged Misao, who eagerly returned the embrace. "See you at lunch~!"

"Ja, bye-bye!" Misao sang back as they pulled from each other.

As Mabel headed off back to her homeroom, waving excitedly back at her the whole way, Misao sighed and waved back at her.

Ich liebe sie. She thought as she turned and headed to her classroom. Ich vermisse dich bereits.

Now that she had her schedule in order, it was time for her to buckle down and get to work on the whole reason she'd come to America to begin with–finishing her final year of High School. Right outside the partially opened classroom door to her AP Calculus class, she sighed and reached to put her hand on the door.

Du schaffst das. Das ist nur ein weiterer Kurs wie jeder andere. She reassured herself internally as she pushed the door open and stepped into class.

"Guten Tag, Bonjour, Hello, Buenos Dias, Konnichiwa~!" Misao greeted, putting her best foot forward and her sunniest smile on her face.

The response she received was more than encouraging, as numerous students waved and greeted her in turn. Among them, seated beside two empty desks at the front of the class, was Brittney Wong–who had taken a moment from looking at her financial portfolio to wave in greeting. Spying the desk next to her, Misao brightened and walked over.

"Is this spot taken?"

Brittney closed the screen of her phone and set it down. "No, go ahead and sit down."

Misao accepted the offer and took the seat. "I didn't know you had AP Calculus."

Brittney rolled her eyes, but not in a dismissive manner. "I take every AP Course this school can offer."

The exchange student was relieved. Oh, dieser kurs wird überhaupt nicht schlimm sein.

With a sage nod, she understood. "Even in a fun school like this, our parents have high expectations of us."

"You have no idea," Brittney replied, "You think I can take over this entire school for nothing? I need to always be top three in the whole school if I want the money to do anything here."

This piqued Misao's interest. "Top three, not number one? Wow… your parents are pretty laid back."

"It's hard to hold onto number one at this school, so they cut me some slack rather than do something Vanderhoff-worthy," Brittney muttered.

At the thought of academic competition, Misao had to know. "So… who's number one?"

"Marco," Brittney said like Misao should know this.

"Quoi?" Misao would've never suspected him. "He seems more of… hmm… a jock."

And Brittney had to stuff a very sharp laugh. "Him?! He declined every sports club because he didn't want to get bruised."

"… You've seen him fight, maybe he didn't want to bruise others?"

Brittney considered the possibility. "No… he was a wuss before Star gave him something to throw hands with."

That brought a giggle spilling from Misao. "So, he's much cooler, now?"

"From a purely objective standpoint, and that's it," Brittney quickly said.

Just as Misao was about to needle Brittney, a hurried Heather entered the class and bolted to her seat.

"Sorry I'm late!" She said before she realized Misao was sitting between her and Brittney. "Oh!"

"Hallo," Misao greeted with a wave. "You take AP Calculus, too?"

"Yeah," Heather said as she put her books in her desk. "If I keep my grades up, I have a scholarship to UCLA with my name on it."

Brittney gestured to Heather. "Meet number three in the whole school."

Misao cupped her cheeks and looked back and forth beaming at her neighbors. "We can be study buddies!"

Heather brought a hand to her lips and giggled. "Wow, this is the most fun the class has been since Jackie was here."

Brittney gave the newly arrived girl a bit of a sharper look. "Let's see how long that lasts."

That was a grim reminder for Misao. This was, after all, the Den of the Geek…

As if on cue, the door opened again, and the classroom's teacher walked in. He was a fair-skinned man of average height with a weedy build, wearing a white button-down shirt with a black tie, and gray pants. He had short cut black hair that matched his dark eyes and the glasses he wore.

When Misao looked, she had a pang of dread as she watched him scan the classroom with an air not unlike Trip and Van… like he was a man assured of his superiority over the people before him and he knew it in his heart.

That dread was confirmed when he spoke, his voice projecting across the room like a young man with grievances against his students. "Well, I see everyone had a nice time at the dance this past weekend. Let's wring all that joy and euphoria out, before you start thinking there's hope for any of you."

Verflixt. Misao thought.

The teacher's gaze fell upon Misao, and he raised an eyebrow at her. "And a new student for my AP Calc. I've been waiting a bit to finally say hello to you, Miss Darlian."

Misao sat straighter, putting her best foot forward despite sitting down with a friendly response. "You have?"

Mr. Geike, the teacher, nodded before looking to the rest of his students. "So, we have ourselves a little celebrity here: You see, Miss Darlian is one of those E-Girls that you hear about."

Misao recoiled a bit. "Er… I am not an 'E-Girl', I play video games and stream it for entertainment. Being an E-Girl implies something I'm not even allowed to do."

Mr. Geike brushed it off as if he hadn't heard her. "You play video games for a living; and I'm sure you make a lot of money showing off your 1337 ski11z."

And now Misao bristled a little. "Ja, I have sponsors, Herr Geike."

Heather spoke up. "She's won tournaments."

Mr. Geike looked impressed. "Tournaments! You really are accomplished for someone your age. Lots of people play video games–little kids, teenagers, burnt out thirty-year-old losers with no girlfriends just finding something to kill the time between shifts at their Paycheck Mill. And some, like you, are fortunate enough to have the backing to be famous for it."

Misao eyed the teacher, feeling a burn in her chest as her ears had to endure his tone.

"I'm sure if every single one of them had a father who was head of a pharmaceutical corporation, and a mother who sold weapons around the world to throw money at whatever they desired–they'd all be winning tournaments, too."

Misao now frowned at the teacher as she asked, "Do you have a problem with who I am?"

"Problem? No, no… I have no problem," he replied with a heavy inference of the contrary.

"I just want you to know right now, who you are does not matter in my classroom. Especially if you think you're famous, or if your parents get up to unethical things in the name of science or business."

Misao's grip on the desk tightened, then relaxed. Another quick glance at her peers showed her Brittney scowling harder than ever at Mr. Geike while Heather just held her head low and she clenched her jaw.

She looked back at him. "Then what does matter in your classroom, Herr Geike?"

He slapped the back of his hand against the chalkboard. "The ability to think logically, think critically, and do the work. We live in a golden age of technology and discovery. Everything from hologram projectors in phones, to hypersonic business jets, to liquid batteries have all come from the scientific brilliance of the world's greatest thinkers. Their work, and humanity's benefit of it, comes from classes like these–not likes and follows on Twitch."

Mr. Geike looked down his nose at Misao, the ghost of a condescending smirk on his lips. "So, do you understand, now?"

Heather studied Misao's face; after seeing her slapping Trip at the lockers, she didn't know what to expect here.

Brittney did the same; after hearing about her slapping Trip at the lockers, she hoped she performed an encore here.

Her lips pursed, Misao nodded. "Ja, thank you, Herr Geike."

As though he'd been expecting a different reaction, the teacher was taken aback for a moment, but undeterred. "Good. Take out your textbook and open to section three, I don't want to spend too long getting you caught up."

"Jawohl," Misao curtly acknowledged.

Mr. Geike stopped glowering at Misao and turned back to the chalkboard as he started lecturing the class.

The forty-five minutes of AP Calculus flew just like that, and by the bell Misao marched out of the class, followed by a besieged-looking Heather and the perennially scowling Brittney.

"He is an interesting man, that teacher," Misao said firmly. "Is he always like this?"

"Always," Brittney replied. "He harassed Jackie Lynn Thomas out of the class the exact same way he talked shit to you."

Heather sighed. "I think that's the closest I've seen anyone get Jackie to explode. Why are people like this?"

Misao nodded. "He is the smallest possible man."

"You have no idea," Brittney assured her.

Heather looked at Misao. "Seriously though, it almost sounded like it was personal with him, mentioning your parents like that. What was with that?"

Closing her eyes, Misao hummed. "My mother runs a business that my father works for. My mother's work has her overseeing some morally questionable things according to the morally self-righteous. While my father's work involves much Ukrainian medical technology, and certain people find that unsettling as well."

Brittney huffed. "Of course they do. Anyone whose stated goal is to put an end to the medical and pharmaceutical industry becomes an enemy to the medical and pharmaceutical industry."

Heather gawked at Misao. "Wait, Darlian… is your father Doctor Edward Darlian?"

"Ja, he is," Misao chirped back.

Heather went pale. "Oh my God, do Trip and Van know?!"

"Probably not," Brittney suggested.

Heather looked ahead, shaking her head slowly. "They really have no idea."

A smile played on Misao's lips. "Ja."

The blonde snapped her gaze back to Misao. "So when you said what you did at the lockers…"

"I meant every word of it," Misao assured Heather, just before Star bounded up to the girls.

"Hi Misao! And Brittney! And Heather, too!" Star greeted, surprising the latter girl. "How was your trip?"

Heather gave a start in surprise. "Um… it was okay, just family stuff. I'm surprised that you even knew…"

"Why wouldn't I know?" Star asked. "You weren't at the dance, and I asked around, wanting to make sure."

She nudged her. "If I knew where you were, I would've come to get you."

Heather blanched at the very idea. "… Oh, you would've hated it if you had."

When the other three girls scrutinized her, Heather explained. "Tahoe at the end of the season is so lame."

Brittney hummed speculatively, before she nodded in agreement. "Yeah, now that you mention it. It's always best to visit it during the peak. Sure, it's crowded but at least you don't have to worry about feral hippies or cannibal meth heads picking off stragglers."

Star gasped. "What's a hippie, and why are they feral?"

Misao, who couldn't correlate the words hippie and feral together due to a mental image of tie-dye, flowers in hair, and lots of marijuana smoke, shrugged her shoulders. "I do not know, but it sounds terrifying."

Brittney remembered she was dealing with out-of-towners. "Look, just take it from someone who knows. There are parts of this city–no, this whole state–that if you knew even half of it, you'd probably want to nu…"

She quickly noticed Star hanging onto her every word. "… uuuot want to stay here."

Heather grimaced, while Misao nodded in praise to Brittney for choosing her words wisely.

Star, however, was quick on the uptake. "Hey! I would not nuke Echo Creek off the face of the Earth, even if I knew how bad it could be here."

She grabbed both Brittney and Heather, pulling them into hugs. "This is my favorite place! And I've been to a dimension that is now a 24/7 party with booze, drugs, and the hottest music in the multiverse."

Brittney's eyebrows jumped up, before she gave Star an intrigued look. "Tell me more."

"And tell me less," Heather said, even as the prospect of a forever party appealed to her. "If my family knew I was even thinking about going to a party dimension, they'd flip out."

Misao giggled brightly; after last week's tension between Star and Brittney, it was just so wonderful to see them getting along so well. And Heather, too! She was such a kind girl.

Bald wird es hier noch schöner sein, Zeit zu verbringen. She thought pleasantly.

"So, Misao," Star said. "What's your next class?"

Misao beamed. "Gym."

Star pouted. "Aw, Mabel and I have gym next period."

And there was the bittersweet reminder that she was a grade above her friends. "I will at least see you during class change, then, and probably be very sweaty."

Star hugged her. "Be sure to make lots of friends there! It'll be super easy for you."

"Ja, ja~" Misao agreed as she hugged her back.

As the two hugged, and Heather and Brittney were about to excuse themselves and walk away to their next classes, the wall to the quartet's right turned an alarming bright red and then red hot–the bright light and heat causing them and other students walking down the hall to back away quickly.

Instead of pooling down and melting however, the white-hot wall burned away in a spreading burst of green and black flames to create a hole in the wall wide enough for Shego to step through–spreading her arms to scatter the flames that clung to her hands and forearms.

Heather drew her breath back in a sharp, frightened gasp as panic swept through the hallway. "What is she doing here…?"

"Oh shit," Brittney sputtered out.

Misao, pale as a sheet, stepped back behind Star, as Shego scanned the hallway before her glowing green eyes fell upon her. Identifying Misao, the supervillainess smirked.

"So, you can't hide anymore," she said, "How fast can you run?"

Star stepped up to Shego, putting herself between Misao and the evil doer. Seeing the blonde with the magic wand, Shego lifted an eyebrow.

As her cheek marks began to glow, to match the bell of her wand, Star replied. "How fast can YOU run?"

= - = 7-2 = -=​

New antagonists for everyone. Place your bets, because Star Butterfly vs. Shego is set to begin!

 

[The Ero-Sennin]

Good day to you readers, it's time for your weekly Legends update. Misao had a bad run in with a bad teacher, but that is the least of her problems as Shego shows up and squares off against Star Butterfly. Let's not keep anyone waiting, and cut right to the next action-packed chapter!

= - = 7-3 = - =


|Supervillain|​

High School schedules were annoying. While most days Drew would have a chance to sit in class with Heather, today was the day she just happened to have AP Calculus, so she wasn't in first period where he, Jo, and Dipper normally hung together. Dipper wasn't there, either; Jo was kind of moody about that but not to the antagonistic degree she'd been before the dance. At the very least, she'd be in higher spirits when she could hang out with the other girls at lunch.

Heather will be there, too. Drew thought with no small anticipation at the prospect, as he made his way to his locker between the class changes. I really missed her.

Even with how eventful the weekend was, and all the distractions and interactions he enjoyed, she had never left the back of his mind. It really had felt like months since he'd spoken to her, and he was more than eager to pick up where they had left off that afternoon before his fight with Saberizer.

Maybe she'll be up for sneaking off to Britta's again. He thought with a small smile.

He had just reached his locker, when the school's janitor, a blonde-haired, mustachioed man in a blue boiler suit called over to him. "Uh, hey? Watch your step right there, okay? I just mopped."

Drew stopped and looked at the floor. Indeed, it was freshly mopped. Taking another look, he was even surprised to see wet floor signs set up on both sides of the wet area. He looked at the janitor, confused.

"… Uh… thanks?" He offered.

The janitor stared at him. "Thanks for what?"

"Normally you don't…" He stopped.

The janitor, looking panicked, quickly asked. "Normally I don't what?"

Drew looked at the care and vigilance towards the wet floor, then back towards the janitor. "Nevermind, thanks for the heads up."

"No problem, it's my job, you know?" The janitor said quickly. "Because I'm the school janitor! I've been here for 20 years, and I'll be here for 20 more, yep."

Drew nodded. "Okay, man. Just… uh… keep up the good work?"

"We have already established that this is my job, now uh… don't pay me any mind and go back to whatever you were doing, the next bell is going to ring soon," the janitor said before going back to mopping the floor and calling out kids walking towards the wet floor signs.

Turning back to his locker, Drew shook his head. How does a school getting paid by at least three one-percenters and the literal ruler of a magical kingdom only hire weirdos?

As he opened his locker, he paused. Why is THAT even a question?!

Rather than torment himself with further questions, he just reached for his textbook just as someone called out to him.

"Hey, um, Drew–eep!" He almost jumped when he heard a squeak and the sound of feet slipping on the wet floor. Closing his locker, he found Sabrina Backintosh struggling to keep from falling as her cheerleader uniform's sneakers lost their grip on the freshly mopped floor.

Drew was quick on the draw, using his telekinesis without thinking to arrest Sabrina's falling long enough to catch her by the hand and pull her away from the wet floor and close to him.

Letting out a squeak, Sabrina slipped forward–but Drew caught her with his other hand on her shoulder. For a moment, the green-eyed brunette looked up at him in surprise at his agility, before she took a half-step back from him.

The overly concerned janitor bad at trying to be inconspicuous looked over. "Hey, there are signs!"

"Th-thank you!" She quickly said, hoping to quickly talk past her near spill… and the fact that he was still holding her hand.

Drew nodded and released her from both his hands. "No problem. You made it through Spirit Week without taking a fall, so… it'd be bad to break the streak before second period, huh?"

In her heart of hearts, Sabrina told herself not to tell Drew about the spill she took getting out of bed this morning as she agreed. "Yeah. So, how was your weekend?" She asked, struggling to fight down her normal nervous stutter.

Drew smiled at the mousy cheerleader. "It was all right, I spent all of Sunday at home relaxing."

Because he was still grounded, of course, but having a lock on his door helped make it more bearable. "What about you?"

"Um… about the same. I stayed at home in bed all day because the dance took a lot out of me."

Drew sympathized. "Yeah… I'm usually completely drained after a big event, too."

He's been having more of those; though, hanging out with his group of friends would be nicer without the fate of the universe being in the balance.

Sabrina relaxed, her smile reflecting it. "I-introvert problems, am I right?"

"You're right," he answered with a similar friendliness. "So, what's up?"

With the ice broken, Sabrina felt free to fidget a little. "You know, we have lunch at the same time, right?"

Drew nodded. "Uh huh?"

"I was wondering… if you wanted… to…" Sabrina reached up and messed with her hair before spitting it out. "Sit with me for lunch? You know… maybe hang out for a little bit?"

Drew stared at her in muted surprise much like when she asked him to the dance.

He had a really good time with Sabrina, nothing was ever going to change that, yet Andrew McCormick didn't think there was much more to it than that. He was just someone's companion at a school dance. Sure, he knew there'd be friendly smiles and waves for the rest of the year, but he was also under the assumption that everyone was supposed to go back to their respective social circles afterward.

He had even made peace with it. Though the shyest cheerleader to ever lead cheers, Sabrina was still a cheerleader, and he was a comic book nerd.

"Um… really?" He asked.

Sabrina nodded. "I had a good time at the dance, and I wanted to do that more…?"

"Oh, right."

So he had made that good of an impression. He inwardly cursed himself for having self-doubts about being a pleasant person to hang out with.

Sabrina rocked from side to side, while rubbing her right forearm with her left hand. "… So…?"

Before Drew could answer her, the very source of his self-doubts walked right up to him and Sabrina. Trip, strutting like he owned the school, lifted a curious eyebrow at the sight of Drew and Sabrina within such proximity. He tilted his head to the side more and squinted a little at Drew, as if he was trying to recognize him. Van was of course beside him, looking more confused at Drew's appearance than the fact that he was chatting with a girl out of his league.

"Huh, excuse me," Trip addressed him, "You wouldn't happen to know an Andrew McCormick, would you?"

Drew looked at Sabrina, then back at Trip. "It's me, Trip. I got fixed up after my accident last week so I could go to the dance."

Trip nodded. "Well, I see you got some other work in besides. Did you sell that ratty old comic to afford it, because if so? You didn't get your money's worth."

And there it was.

"And what's up with this?" Van asked as he gestured between Drew and Sabrina. "First Hope Hadley and that fat fuck, and now a cheerleader's talking to you?"

A grin splitting his lips, Trip opened his mouth to say something particularly cutting off the top of his head, when Drew cut him off.

"I'm going to stop you right there, Trip," he said, his eyes empty save for contempt. "You? Your brother? In case I didn't make it clear enough at the game on Friday? Pay attention."

He gestured between the two of them. "Go fuck yourselves–or each other. Whichever helps you feel better about being miserable dumb fucks with no friends and a Dad who doesn't love you."

Trip's mouth dropped open, while Van visibly recoiled from the sheer venom in Drew's casually delivered but caustic rebuke. Beside Drew, Sabrina was similarly shocked by the vitriol he spat at his perennial bullies.

"No one likes you, you've got no personality, and no common sense. If you didn't have all that money, you would be getting your asses kicked every day like you did during the game, by everyone," Drew snarled.

Van was startled further. "How do you know about–?"

"You shut up; I'm not done talking." Drew snapped at Van, and he fell quiet.

"I don't care how much money you've got, if you talk to me again?" He continued, "If you even come near me again? I will beat the crap out of both of you."

He promptly dropped his books on the floor, squared his shoulders, and stepped up to both brothers, making Trip take a step back on reflex.

"Or we can go right now," he offered. "I'll even let you find someone to fight me in your place–since I hear you're too chickenshit to throw hands yourself."

The janitor, tightly gripping his mop, looked back and forth between the quarreling students, his own mouth agape.

Trip's face had gone from pale to the most incredible shade of red as the shock that Andrew McCormick, his favorite punching bag since middle school, was talking all the shit to him like he could back it up.

"I'm going to fucking kill you," Trip said, the ugliness and wickedness that seized him when he paid Goblin to go after Dipper rearing its ugly head.

"You're going to pay someone to kill me," Drew corrected him, completely absent of any care about what he just said. "Right?"

He looked at Van. "Are you gonna take a swing at me? Or are you going to stand there and look fucking stupid like you always do when this dipshit doesn't yap orders?"

Van sputtered; he honestly didn't have words for this. The Andrew McCormick he knew did not talk like this, nor did he do it with such confidence or intensity. He couldn't understand what was happening.

Seeing that no one was going to attack him, Drew stepped back, and placed his foot atop his dropped books. "If neither of you have anything to say, or don't want to fight me? Fuck off."

He finally spared Sabrina a look at that, and he found that the shock that had taken her was also replaced, but in her case by open awe and admiration. He averted his eyes back to his opponents, but the fact that Sabrina was extremely cute with that look of wonder made him feel even better than just saying what he wanted to say to the Vanderhoffs already did.

Trip took another few steps back and pointed at Drew. "Y-you're fucking dead, Andrew. Just you wait. Not now, not tomorrow, but just like Pine Tree, you're fucking getting yours!"

"But it's not now, so you can go," Drew snapped back before he heard a quickly growing commotion down the hallway.

"What now…?" He asked before he saw a flash of green fire just above and behind the stampede of his schoolmates headed for them.

"AYO, RUN!" A student yelled over the panic. "STAR BUTTERFLY'S FIGHTING FREAKING SHEGO!"

"Oh, come on, I just mopped all of that!" The Janitor loudly lamented as the stampede roared by.

Sabrina yelped in terror. "Sh-Shego?!"

Drew blanched. "Oh, that's not good." He turned to guide Sabrina down the hall in the direction of the traffic. "We need to go, right now–!"

Focused as he was on Sabrina's well-being in the sudden stampede, Drew was taken by surprise as Trip hooked the back of his left ankle into Drew's right, and–with the still damp floor beneath him–sent Drew stumbling to the ground. Before Drew could get up, Trip stomped on his back stepping over him.

"Get fucked, Andrew!" He yelled, cackling at him as he and Van fled with the crowd.

Sabrina, pressed off to the side by the crowd, but moving with it, called back. "Drew! Are you okay?!"

Stunned for only an instant, Drew had to give him credit. He didn't even pay anyone to do that.

Before he could get stepped on by any fleeing classmates, he felt a hand grab his arm and pull him to his feet. "There you go!"

Getting up, Drew turned to see the janitor pushing him and himself clear of the fleeing students before they both got knocked over. "Are you okay?"

Drew stared at the janitor. "Yeah, but… when do you care?"

The janitor stared at him. "Huh?"

"Usually you keep count of how many kids slip on your floor, this is… out of character."

The janitor paled a bit and looked towards the sound of combat. "This is why I wanted to be a cafeteria worker; you know?"

Drew was more confused. "Huh?"

The janitor just raised his hand. "Don't worry about it, just evacuate the school with the rest of the…"

He stopped when he looked back and saw Drew had vanished from where he stood. "… Huh."

Drew was no longer in the hallway or even headed outside. He was suddenly in an empty classroom with Roland and Jo, the latter of whom was closing the blinds.

He turned to Roland. "Super speed is freaking rad."

"I'm like Quicksilver up in this. I feel like I gotta listen to like, Time in a Bottle when I pull off some of the silly stuff I do."

Jo finished closing the blinds. "How fast would you have to play it, so it doesn't sound weird when you do?"

Roland stopped, then groaned. "You ruined it. You ruined Days of Future Past for me."

"You're welcome," Jo said before she pulled out her Beetle Bonder.

Drew patted Roland on the shoulder as he got out his own Beetle Bonder. "Don't worry, I have a PowerPoint explaining the science. Now let's go help Star."

Nodding in agreement, Roland joined the McCormick siblings in raising their Beetle Bonders before calling out in unison.

"BEETLE BLAST!"

@@@@@​

As her classmates backed away from the confrontation between Star and Shego, the latter reacted to Star's clap back with genuine surprise. "How fast can I–?" She stopped and grinned at the blonde. "Oh… you must be that so-called 'magical princess from another dimension' on YouTube. What was it, Quasar Caterpillar?"

Behind Star, Misao turned and looked down the hall back the way she came. "Quickly, this way!"

Without hesitation, she, Brittney, and Heather fled to get away from the looming brawl. Star rolled her shoulders and began hopping from one foot to another, not unlike Marco when he felt especially Bruce Lee-like. "Not quite, but that's okay. I'll make sure you never get it wrong."

With a laugh, Shego leaped forward, aiming to soar past Star and pursue Misao. Rather than allow her to pass, Star swung up her wand and left a trail of spinning golden five-pointed stars that shot straight at her.

"My name is Star!" She called out.

Her eyes widening at the projectiles, Shego used her fiery energy to shoot clear of the attack. Before she could land, a butterfly made of rainbows slammed into her, and she was knocked onto her back and sent tumbling down the hall for a few feet.

"Butterfly!" Star called out as Shego stopped and got back up.

Grinning as the glow in her cheek marks filled her eyes, Star finished her introduction by creating a rainbow over her head. "I'm a magical princess, from another dimension!"

The rainbow promptly caught fire, casting Star in an intimidating silhouette that blocked the way to Misao. "You got it?"

Shego looked quickly between Star and the burning rainbow. "Wait, that magic crap is real?"

"Yeah, you must not really watch my vlog–that's what you get for swiping through Shorts and not actually subscribing."

The flames Shego was notorious for blazed from her hands and surrounded her entire body with that, as she grinned maliciously at Star. "Why the heck would I subscribe to a dead channel?"

Star's shoulders dropped. "Okay, I admit, I've been behind on my updates, but that's not my fau–!"

Shego closed the distance between them and slashed at her with a clawed right hand wreathed in power. Falling upon her lengthy experience of fighting monsters and Royal Guards, Star weaved out of the way to Shego's right. "WhoanevermindIgetcha."

The energy receding from fully around her, Shego focused them to her hands as she reversed into a spinning backhand right that Star went left of–then followed it with a downward curving left that Star ducked under before raising her wand.

"Strawberry Annihilation!" The spell surged out as Star called it, but Shego was quick enough to duck and pull back under the stream of energy before pointing both her hands at Star and firing back with a green energy projectile the Princess twirled into a leap to avoid.

"Laser Beam Blast!" She called out, swinging her wand–and the laser that it emitted–like a sword.

The beam scorched the ceiling and the external-facing wall as Shego sidestepped away from its path. Looking at Star, the green supervillain ducked under a spinning kick Star aimed at her head, then swiped with a left at her face in turn.

Star skillfully used her right arm to block and parry Shego's swing, before using her wand to catch the right hand Shego thrust for her chest before riposting with a spinning kick to Shego's throat that was blocked in turn.

Retreating, Star weaved from one foot to another as Shego followed with fast, energy-laden slashes. Pushed back ten paces, Star hopped away to open the distance between them and fired off a spell from her wand. "Narwhal Blast!"

Shego leaped over the stream of narwhals and spun in an axel with her burning hands extended, coming down on Star like a blazing wheel. Star jumped to her left, then ran up and kicked off the wall to get around Shego and her attack. Landing in a spin, Shego stopped to face her.

"You know, calling out your attacks tends to be unhelpful in a fight, Sailor Stupider!" She said before unleashing another long-ranged stream of green fire.

Spinning her wand, Star swung it in front of her and created a rainbow streak that blocked the attack. "That's only if you know what the attack's going to do!"

Holding her left arm out close to the wall, Shego burned a long line in it as she ran straight towards Star, who aimed her wand at her. "For example! Sunshine Shego Slap!"

Shego expected a beam or a projectile. She did not expect a loincloth-wearing minotaur colored in shades of blue to ram into her from out of nowhere, putting her into and through a wall into a classroom. Pulling back, the Minotaur snapped his fingers into a thumbs up that Star returned before he poofed out of existence.

The door to the classroom Shego got smashed into opened and she stepped out, brushing herself off. "Okay," she said, "I'm gonna give you that one."

Immediately she lashed out with a sweep of her right arm, Star ducking under the flames. When she came down with her left hand in a downward slash, Star performed one of Marco's roundhouse kicks to block the swing with her right leg before spinning and tagging her across her face with her left heel in a spinning back kick.

Shego moved with the blow, performing a full rotation of her own before thrusting her right hand into Star's throat. Star used her left forearm to parry and then grab Shego's own. As Star brought her wand up to point in Shego's face, she parried the wand away by striking it with the back of her right hand.

As Star let go of Shego, the supervillain attempted to kick out the princess's feet, but Star blocked the kick with a quick swing of her own foot. Spinning, Shego swung on Star, but her target danced and weaved back from the blows.

"You know what, you're starting to remind me of someone!" After missing another swing, Shego's stance changed to more straight-line jabs, thrusts, and short chops that Star's quick hands were able to defend, at the cost of being able to mount a counter-offense. "And it's ticking me off!"

Star beamed as she deflected several more punches and ducked under a kick. "Oh, I bet I know who you're talking about!"

Shego weaved her way under Star's own kick. But when she lashed out with a swipe of her energy infused hands, Star was springing backward in retreat, turning in the air like a ballet dancer with each hop.

"Just like her, except for ballet instead of cheerleading," Shego growled as Star took a final and bigger leap, landing and sliding backward to a halt beside Echo Creek Academy's janitor.

Glancing back in the direction Misao fled, Shego returned her attention to Star. "All right, Minky Moron, I've got to wrap this up, so I'll be quick!"

She charged Star, who glanced at the janitor and flashed him a smile. "Hi Mr. Janitor!"

She performed a very fast pirouette; Star swung her wand as she spun. "Tiara Tornado!"

Like buckshot from a shotgun, numerous golden tiaras and crowns scattered towards Shego, but she made short work of them, slashing them out of the air with the energy burning off her fingers. "Now this is the predictable stuff I was talking about–!"

Focused on knocking down the projectiles, she did not see the janitor use his mop to tip over his bucket until she stepped into and slipped in the puddle spreading across the floor. "Whoa! Whoa! Whoa–!"

Rather than fling another spell, Star used the momentum of her pirouette to jump and crescent kick Shego in the face as she reached her. End over end, Shego flipped before she landed on her back and slid several more feet to a stop.

Star landed and nearly slipped on the wet floor herself, before she recovered and turned to face Shego while the janitor wisely bolted into the nearest classroom.

Still lying on her back, Shego stared at the ceiling in contemplation. "Okay, less ticked, more annoyed!"

Raising her wand as Shego kicked up onto her feet, Star aimed and fired a spell. "Cupcake Blast!"

The barrage of sticky, sweet, but dangerously inedible desserts streaked towards Shego as she turned to face it. Before she could surge her energy to try to block the blast, Kombat Knat suddenly enlarged in front of her, growing to his full size and using his body to block the attack.

Star lowered her wand, got one proper look at Kombat Knat and recoiled in disgust. "Ew! What the heck are you supposed to be?!"

"I am Kombat Knat, child of Typhus, herald of the verdant glow!" Kombat Knat declared.

Shego gawked at Kombat Knat and recoiled. "Oh gross, was that thing on me?!"

Star looked back and forth between the hideous monster and Shego, thinking quickly. Why is a Magnavore protecting her?

She got her answer when Kombat Knat turned to Shego. "Oh radiance! I pledge myself to you forever! Guide me with your incandescence!"

Shego stared at the strange creature, and after a moment of deciding not to question it, pointed at Star. "Your radiance commands you to get rid of the princess over there for me."

Kombat Knat turned back at Star and opened his massive maw to roar in challenge at her.

Star looked simply offended. "Oh, that is some warnicorn crap!"

Two of the smaller arms on Kombat Knat's torso suddenly extended like barbed tentacles, racing towards Star, who was appropriately grossed out by them.

"Oh, absolutely not!" She swung her wand, yellow light streaming from it. "Stardust Daisy Devastation!"

The beam of yellow daisies deflected the tentacle arms, before Shego's energy slashed through the daisies left behind and down on Star. Ducking and sliding to the side, Star evaded that strike and the sweeping followup Shego swung as she turned to her. Shego hopped back, giving Kombat Knat move to charge in and swing at Star with his claws.

Jumping and flipping back, Star aimed her wand, but Shego charged her next, swinging her energy-infused hands in raking motions. Star's talented weaving was still on point, as she used graceful dancing motions and skillful footwork on the slick floor to evade first Shego's slashes and then Kombat Knat's when he would jump in to allow his new mistress to attack from another angle.

"He's ugly, but a 2v1 is a 2v1!" Shego teased as Star leaned back from one of Kombat Knat's claws, allowing her to slash at her side. Star turned around quickly, putting her back to Kombat Knat as Shego's clawed gloves made three thin lines in the side of her teal dress.

Shego then kicked Star in the face, snapping her head up and back to look at Kombat Knat's open maw looming over her.

A barrage of Input Magnum fire in beam mode filled Kombat Knat's mouth before Star could. Then the Green Hunterborg, exiting out of Super Speed, appeared next to Kombat Knat to swing a jumping spin-kick into the side of his head.

As the synthetic beast tried to recover, the Red Strikerborg came right at Kombat Knat, fist swinging to connect with and turn him into a projectile. That didn't happen–Kombat Knat abruptly shrank, and her punch missed.

"Crap, it is Kombat Knat!" Jo shouted before Kombat Knat grew to full size behind her, swinging a claw down that she managed to block.

Shego faced the Green Hunterborg, as he turned and pointed the Input Magnum at her. "First a magical girl, then a creepy monster, and now superheroes? Is this a bit? Where's the camera crew?"

Behind his mask, Roland rolled his eyes. "Tourists man, never watching the news."

He opens fire, but Shego demonstrates her super human agility to leap over his shots and him. "I don't watch news, I make it!"

She slashed his back, expecting to cut through shiny plastic and cloth, only to be surprised when she heats metal and produces sparks, sending Hunterborg staggering forward from the blow. Instead of being taken aback, she goes in for the double-tap, but she feels something grab and slow her down.

"Here's your next headline, then!" Stingerborg said before using his telekinesis to throw Shego through the exterior-facing wall and out into the school's front lawn. "Shego gets her face rocked by the Big Bad Beetleborgs!"

That made Kombat Knat unhappy. "HOW DARE YOU, YOU ARTHROPODAL APPROPRIATOR!"

Strikerborg's right fist, and Hunterborg's left foot connected with Kombat Knat, knocking him through the wall next.

"Thanks guys!" Star said as she bounded up to the holes made in the side of the school. "So… what is that thing?"

"Kombat Knat, he first appeared in #144, and while he can't fight much he can shrink down to the size of a quarter if he needs to," Roland said, before he shook his head. "Where the heck are they getting such old books?"

"Re-releases, man," Jo said. "Marvel's churning them out by the boatload because of the movie."

Shego got up and stared at the Beetleborgs and Star. "Okay, from a 2v1 to a 4v2…"

She looked at Kombat Knat. "Hey, creepy bug monster. You shoot lasers or something?"

Kombat Knat turned to her. "Erm… no, my Radiance."

She dropped her shoulders. "All right, meatshield duty, then!"

Kombat Knat quickly saluted her. "AS YOU COMMAND!"

Shego's eyebrows rose. "Wow, I'm over the aesthetics already."

The wickedness she was infamous for quickly returned, as Star aimed her wand with the Beetleborgs aiming their Input Magnums at the two. "Well then, time to run out the clock."

@@@@@​

The sound of savage combat filled the neighborhood as Echo Creek Academy's students gathered at evacuation points up and down the street from the school. Over at the school's expensive new sports complex, however, Misao, Brittney, and Heather made their way through the stadium's concession area, now closed and gated off without a game going on.

"Why are we all the way over here behind the school and not with the others?" Heather asked.

Misao looked back at her. "Because they are after me, and I do not want to put anyone else in harm's way."

Heather nodded. "Okay, makes sense. But why are Brittney and I here with you?"

Brittney looked at her next. "Because you're a nice person who cares about others?"

She had a point, Heather admitted. "Well, I think we can stop running at least. I don't think we were followed."

Looking back, the three girls couldn't see it, but they could hear the digital chimes of Star's spells and the bursts of blaster fire.

Heather swallowed, as she recognized those sounds. "Oh shoot, those guys dressed up as the Beetleborgs are here now, aren't they?"

Brittney pulled out her phone, and quickly began swiping. She stopped and her eyes widened a bit. "Yes, all three of them are fighting Shego and some kind of gross monster. Megan is streaming it from the street corner."

Misao and Heather gathered around her to look at her phone, and Heather recoiled in disgust. "Ew, that's Kombat Knat! What's that thing doing here?"

Mabel, standing behind them, shared their collective distaste for the creature. "Yeah, the monsters so far have been ugly, but that guy is CEO of ugly."

Brittney and Heather both jumped back from Mabel, the former pointing at her. "How the fuck did you sneak up on us, you sequoia?!"

Bringing a hand to her chest, Mabel said softly, "I have aspired to be a cat since I was seven, so I learned their myriad ways."

Misao quickly caught Mabel in a tight hug. "I am so glad you are here."

Mabel returned the embrace, consoling the smaller girl by stroking her hair. "There, there, I won't let the bad guys get you."

Now that Mabel was here, and the Beetleborgs were out front, Heather had questions. "Mabel, what's going on? Why is Shego after Misao, and why are you and your brother, Star, and Marco fighting the Magnavores?"

Mabel's expression changed to one of uncertainty, as she weighed upon how to answer that question. When she looked down at Misao, who kept her face buried in Mabel's chest, the smaller girl explained.

"Señor Senior Junior wants to ransom me to my mother."

Brittney tilted her head. "Señor Senior Junior? That Instagram selfie-obsessed, wannabe SoundCloud rapper gym rat, who's probably more spoiled than both Vanderhoffs combined? He is the one who sent Shego after you?"

Misao nodded. Mabel looked up from the top of her head. "Dipper and I met Misao at the airport the day we got here, we rescued her from both of them. That's the real reason she's staying with us."

That shook Heather. "That must be horrible, to have to hide out from them like this."

"We were doing a good job of laying low, too," Mabel lamented. "At least until the last weekend."

Misao went still and she began to bristle.

Heather put what she heard earlier together, and her eyes widened in horror. "… Oh my God."

Brittney looked back and forth between the girls, as Mabel confirmed Heather's worst fears with a nod. "What?"

Heather turned to her. "It was the Vanderhoffs. They somehow got in contact with Shego and Señor Senior Junior, and pointed them right here."

Clapping alerted the four of them, and they turned around to see Señor Senior Junior himself emerge from around a corner at the end of the concession hallway. Still clapping, he walked over to the girls and came to a stop, and his applause ended a moment later.

"Very good," he said, "But do not assign blame to them alone. While they helped me along the way, it wasn't like I didn't have little careless crumbs you left behind that kept me in Los Angeles."

He nodded to Mabel. "Getting into very impressive street fights with monsters and robots goes viral very quickly in the age of Señorita Kim Possible."

Brittney stepped up to Junior, as Mabel placed herself between him and both Misao and Heather. "This is a joke, right?"

Junior looked down at Brittney, surprised. "Erm… oh, you're Señorita Brittney Wong, yes? I've heard a lot about you."

She wasn't in the mood for flattery. "And I've heard a bunch about you. Knock it off, and walk away, Junior. Your dad is still a respected man, and you're making the worst kinds of enemies with this stunt."

Junior recoiled a little, taken aback by the invocation of his father. "I'm sorry, but I cannot. This is a matter of personal honor, not just some fancy."

Brittney lifted an eyebrow, before narrowing her eyes. "Is that so? Then if you want what you came for, you go through me."

Misao and Mabel were both struck. "… Brittney…"

Junior seemed to draw back from the prospect, visibly cringing at first before he sighed. "My father told me to never raise my hand against a woman, that is not how gentlemen conduct themselves. There are some lines that I cannot cross."

Brittney huffed, but before she could spit back a barbed comment about how gentlemanly he was, Junior demonstrated how much he wasn't, by jabbing the business end of a powerful extending stun baton into her stomach and surged over 50,000 volts into her. Going rigid, she trembled violently in place for several seconds before she crumpled where she stood–unconscious.

"However, I am still a villain," he lamented.

"Run!" He heard Mabel shout and looked up to see her draw from under her sweater, the Beretta M1951 Shermie had bequeathed her just a few days ago. Behind her, Misao and Heather were already booking it back towards the school.

Junior was surprised, as he put up his hands. "That is a gun gun."

"And it shoots bullet bullets," Mabel snapped back as she kept it trained on him. "Back up, away from the girl!"

Doing as told, Junior began to step away. "I did not expect that you would be armed… or that you would come to school with it."

"I'm from a little city called Piedmont," Mabel replied, "Which is right next to a city called Oakland. More importantly, we're in flipping Los Angeles. How did you not expect to have a gun pulled on you?"

When she put it like that, she had a point. "Your country's obsession with firearms is a human tragedy."

Mabel shrugged. "Yeah, but what are you gonna do?"

"Well," Junior answered, "Since I am from Europe and have a lot of money, I do the sensible thing and have other kinds of protection."

Heather and Misao just made it to the other end of the tunnel, when there was a loud, metallic crunch in front of them that cracked the ground in four spots. At that same moment, as Mabel looked back, something she couldn't see but hear struck and knocked the gun out of her hands hard.

"Ah, beans!" Mabel yelled before Junior struck fast and jabbed the stun baton hard in her chest. Just like Brittney, she was down and out in a few seconds, collapsing to the concrete floor.

Behind her, Heather and Misao stepped back as the thing that landed in front of them stalked forward. They could not see it clearly, but at this close, with the light bending around it, they could make out sleek, metal, canid shape stalking towards them as they backed up.

Misao looked back and froze when she saw Mabel unconscious and Junior kicking her gun out of reach. Looking at Brittney, then at Heather, she quickly turned to him and shouted.

"STOP!"

Junior turned to her, as the light-bending machine ceased its menacing. "You will come quietly, then?"

Misao looked at the frightened Heather, then nodded. "I will."

Junior clapped his hands together and hurried over. "Oh, very good! I feel terrible about having to do this, but please understand–"

Misao was about to step towards him, when he suddenly struck her with the stun baton as well. Caught by complete surprise, she blurted out the shortest cry before she locked up and then collapsed to the ground.

"I do not need you conscious for this part."

He looked at Heather. "Or you."

When he swung the baton for her, however, Heather leaned back quickly from its path. "Hm?"

Junior swung at Heather again, but this time she caught his hand, stopping him from connecting with the weapon. Surprised, he met Heather's wide-eyed stare, filled with fear, as she clutched his hand in a death grip.

In a burst of movement, he rotated his hand towards her thumb, breaking her grip, before he quickly jabbed Heather in the shoulder with the stun baton. He was surprised when Heather grabbed his arm with both hands, gripping it tightly, her eyes wide and her teeth clenched as she was shocked for several seconds more, before she finally fell unconscious and limp.

Junior stepped back, shaken, from the unconscious girl, before he looked over at Misao. Putting away the stun baton, he went over to her and checked the pockets of her dress and the contents of her bag. Removing her phone and its companion accessories, he left them on the ground before he gingerly picked her up.

"HEY!"

"Hijo de puta…!" He muttered when he looked up and saw running into the concession area… the school janitor?

The janitor stared at Junior, surprised. "SSJ?"

Hearing his voice, Junior recognized the man immediately, and grew concerned. "… You look terrible with a mustache."

The janitor reached up to it. "See, this is why I wanted to be a cafeteria worker–" The janitor stopped, then assumed a fighting stance. "Wait, hold on! You're not going one step further."

"No, if you are here, the only thing I can do is take as many steps as I can. Please, observe?"

The janitor looked at the unconscious girls still laid out… before right over them the shapes of three large quadrupedal robots built in the shape of wolves, and painted in shades of gray faded into view, their claws poised over the necks of Brittney, Mabel, and Heather.

"Take another step, and…" Junior shook his head. "… I dread to say it. I did not program this contingency in them, Shego did."

With Misao held close, Junior nodded to the closest of the canine robots, which then opened several vents that spewed out a dense white smoke he fled into. As the janitor stepped back the cloud quickly dissipated, and Señor Senior Junior and Misao were both gone.

"Wow," the Janitor said. "He's really stepped up his game."

= - = 7-3 = - =​

This is an unfortunate turn of events.

 

[The Ero-Sennin]

As the fierce battle rages, Señor Senior Junior has run off with Misao! Will the team be able to overcome Shego and her monstrous ally Kombat Knat? Or will the villain get away?!

= - = 7-4 = - =

|Just As Planned|​

Over 1500 planes land per day at Los Angeles International Airport. Coming from all over the world, they range from single-engine civil prop planes to massive two and four engine jet airliners carrying hundreds of people. On this bright and sunny Monday morning, one plane went barely noticed as it lined up with the runway and began its final approach.

It was a small, white and gray-painted flying wing with a blended-wing-body and a pair of surprisingly quiet engines in pods also streamlined in the underside of the aircraft. Landing gear–a bicycle undercarriage with outrigger wheels under the middle of the wings–extended and the plane touched down.

Instead of approaching the terminal after it reached the end of the runway, the plane turned and taxied off towards a dark blue hangar where a sedan and two SUVs awaited.

Aboard the plane was a small Japanese woman with shiny black hair cut into a shoulder length bob, dressed in a dark-blue business suit with matching shoes and dark stockings.

Her gray eyes darted to her right. Not to a window but to the wall-hugging screen of the private jet's cabin showing the world outside the aircraft as it rolled to a stop. She stared at the entourage waiting for her, as she spoke aloud.

「私たちのフライト で、 どれ 位 かかりました か ？」

Beside her, a woman similarly dressed, but taller, and with long fiery red hair that ended in yellow streaks, replied.

「一時間と二十三分です。」

The smaller woman narrowed her eyes, before she got up from her seat.

「またくだな 十年前には、これをしませんでした。」

The taller, more colorful woman giggled.

「しがたじゃないです。」

Then she spoke again, in English. "And also, ten years ago we didn't have anything this nice."

Giving her a withering look, the woman stepped towards the downward opening door, its wall folding out into a staircase. "True."

The taller woman then asked. "Though, would that stop you, Hyuuga-sama?"

Reaching the bottom of the steps, the woman stopped after touching the pavement and looked back at her taller companion.

"If I had to, I would swim the entire ocean to be here."

With that she headed towards the sedan awaiting them. "Now let's go, and resolve this unpleasant business."

@@@@@​

Mabel's eyes shot open as she regained consciousness, and with consciousness came wrath. "WHO JUST TASES PEOPLE LIKE THAT?!"

Brittney, who was likewise conscious, answered succinctly. "Assholes do."

More pressing concerns caught up with Mabel, as she quickly got up and looked around. "Misao! Where…?!"

Heather, being pulled up to her feet by the help of the janitor, answered. "Señor Senior Junior knocked her unconscious, then he tased me… I don't know what happened after that."

The janitor filled in the last part. "He took off with her. I tried to stop him, but he had help…"

Mabel clenched her fists. "Okay then… we gotta go after her!"

The janitor agreed. "They couldn't have gone far."

Turning to him, Mabel nodded in agreement. "Right!"

Brittney, looking back between Mabel and the unusually helpful janitor, finally noticed it and pointed at him.

"Who are you?"

The janitor turned to her. "Um… just your…"

"I think we're way past the need for disguises." Mabel reached up and ripped the mustache off his face. "Yoink!"

The janitor yelped. "Ow! Hey, I have sensitive lips!"

Brittney and Heather both gasped when they got a closer look at the janitor and recognized him.

"Wait!" Heather shouted.

Brittney pointed at him. "… You're…!"

On the roof of Echo Creek Academy at that moment, Typhus and Jara appeared in a burst of flame. Jara, her arms folded, turned and cast a suspicious look towards her friend and comrade. With Noxic hard at work building Scabs, it was just the two of them on their journey out to the school.

"I don't see why we needed to come out here, can we not wait for Kombat Knat to report?" Jara asked.

Typhus turned to face her. "That's the thing, he was supposed to report every hour. And when he did a few minutes ago, all I heard was Blinded by the Light by Manfred Mann's Earth Band."

Whatever counted as a face behind Jara's mask scowled. "Because everyone forgets that Bruce Springsteen wrote that song."

"Manfred Mann's Earth Band did it better, baby. Like Kurt Cobain and The Man Who Sold the World–"

"I prefer Midge Ure."

"Or Johnny Cash's cover of Hurt."

"The original was better there, too."

Typhus figured as much; he'd been on enough benders with her. "Anyway, I just wanna make sure that he's okay. This is enemy territory with the Butterfly, Beetles, and that troll around here."

Jara had doubts. "With the discipline he demonstrated when he met, I would be surprised if he gave himself away so carelessly–"

She stopped when they reached the edge of the roof, in time to see Kombat Knat get pummeled by a barrage of Narwhals from Star. From behind Kombat Knat Shego emerged and slashed down on her with her right hand.

The villainess's fatal fingers barely grazed Star as she weaved to Shego's right. Kombat Knat's extending sub-arms nearly speared through her if not for Strikerborg imposing herself between Star and the attack.

Typhus recoiled from the scene in surprise. "What the… Kombat Knat?!"

Shego jumped back from the tentacle deflected towards her, her eyes darting around quick enough to track Hunterborg's as he slowed down to strike her with the Hunting Claw.

Her energy flared, becoming almost solid as she blocked Hunterborg's strike. Turning quickly, she used her other hand to parry the weapon upward and open Hunterborg to a kick to his chest.

The green Beetleborg disappeared, and Shego flaring her energy around her to block his attempt at getting his claw around her neck. Above them, Jara stared in silence at the battle, as they struggled to overpower one another.

"You're not the first speedster I've fought, pal!" The green supervillain surged her power outward, pushing Hunterborg back, before a shower of Input Magnum bolts rained on her impromptu barrier, pushing her backward.

Seeing Stingerborg firing on Shego, Jara's body tensed

Beneath his armor, Drew was confused. Using his telekinesis, he was trying to restrain Shego, but where her power flared, his power couldn't touch. "I can't grab her…"

Pointing her hand at Stingerborg, Shego sent a stream of energy at him, striking his chest and knocking him down. Turning her attention back to Hunterborg, she ducked another swing of his claw, then gracefully parried one more away before hitting him in the chest with a shotgun like energy blast.

Over with Star and Jo, Strikerborg lunged ahead of Star and swung at Kombat Knat–who vanished from sight as he shrank to his smallest possible size. Snarling, Jo looked back.

"Damn it!" She managed to yell before Kombat Knat grew to full size beneath her, jaws closing around her armored body. "ACK!"

Star was livid at the treatment. "HEY!"

Raising her wand like a mace, she swung it down hard in Kombat Knat's direction. "Bacon Kitty Hawaiian Nightmare!"

A swirling magenta torrent of fruit punch and eldritch kittens, pineapples, leis, and bacon slammed into Kombat Knat, forcing him to spit out Strikerborg before he shrank to disappear again.

Landing, Strikerborg rolled along then got up in time to see Hunterborg hit the ground. She looked towards Shego as the villainess came straight at her with energy surging around both hands.

Star targeted Shego. "Laser Beam Blast!"

Kombat Knat–at his smallest size–zipped past Shego and enlarged himself, taking the full brunt of Star's attack. Her determined smirk turning into a grin, Shego ducked under Jo's attempt at punching her as she got close, and slashed away at Strikerborg to her heart's content, hitting the red Beetleborg with a three hit right-left-right chain before blasting her in the face with energy streamed from both hands.

On the roof, Typhus was stumped. "Why the heck is he fighting for her?!"

Jara walked towards the edge of the roof. "Does it matter?"

Typhus turned to her. "It does matter, Kombat Knat is supposed to be discreet and performin' his mission, baby!"

Reaching the edge of the roof, Jara leaned over to pitch herself off it. "Then we have an excuse to get involved."

She went over the edge of the roof and kicked off the very top of the wall to launch herself not at Shego, Kombat Knat, or Star… but at Stingerborg.

The blue Beetleborg had just gotten onto his feet when he saw a blur of red pass his field of vision. Thinking it was Jo for a moment, but realizing that wasn't right, he turned to follow it–only for Jara to throw her shoulder pauldrons and cape into his chest.

The impact knocked the wind out of him through his armor. As its weight threw him back, he saw a flash of pink before Jara struck him dozens of times in an instant, sending him crashing down prone with a yell.

The energy humming so intensely from her blade that its center was a deep red, Jara pursued Stingerborg. When she swung again, Hunterborg blocked her swing with a wild one of his own. Undeterred, she swung at Hunterborg with every intention to cut him down, but he answered her swing with another of his, the Hunter Claw's prongs glowing red where it met her weapon.

Screaming in anger, Jara swung faster, slashing Hunterborg twice before lashing the blade around him in whip mode and yanking him off his feet and out of her path. "Get out of my way!"

Star, seeing Jara's furious entrance, grew exasperated. "Oh, come on! We've got enough happening right now!"

Shego coming straight at Star drew the princess's attention back to her opponent. Shego was on the offensive, approaching her quickly. "Hey, you think that magic wand of yours would work for me?!"

Frowning, Star weaved under a kick, then jumped back from her. "If you hold still, we can really try!"

Shego called to Kombat Knat. "Creepy bug dude, grab that girl so I can grab that wand!"

Kombat Knat charged in. "Yes, my radiance!"

It was then that Typhus leaped down from the roof and landed. "Hey! Kombat Knat!"

Kombat Knat stopped mid-charge and stumbled back, alarmed. "C-creator!"

Typhus pointed at him. "You had one job to do, what the heck are you doing listening to this lady, baby!"

Shego looked from Kombat Knat to Typhus, then over at Jara lashing Drew with her energy whip, and finally dropped her fighting stance. "Okay… time out."

Typhus, Kombat Knat, and Star looked at her with the former monster asking. "What?"

"Is this whole thing a cosplay villainy bit? I mean, the fit is amazing, but please… it's embarrassing when you dress up like a villain from a comic book and try to break into the game."

Typhus turned to Star. "Wait, she don't know?"

Star shrugged her shoulders. "Why would she?"

He turned back to Kombat Knat. "Then why the heck are you working for her, KK?!"

Kombat Knat was staring at Shego, as he carelessly waved a claw at Typhus. "You wouldn't get it."

Typhus pinched the bridge of his nose. "You're gonna give me a headache, baby."

Beside him, to his left, Jo piped up. "Not before I do."

Typhus turned to her, and the Red Strikerborg's fist connected to his jaw, and off he went like a projectile towards Jara.

Seeing Typhus hurtling towards her, Jara crossed her arms and let him collide with her full force. The impact pushed her back far from Stingerborg, her feet carving trenches in the school's lawn and the sidewalk leading to the school's front door.

Shego turned to Jo. "Hey, I called time out."

"Fuck you," Strikerborg replied immediately, and Shego recoiled a bit.

Aiming the Input Magnum at her, she thumbed Crashing Mode into the pad. "This is a fight. Hits or GTFO."

Shego smirked. "Okay, you're cool."

Strikerborg accepted the compliment by laying on the trigger. And Kombat Knat imposed himself in the path of the avalanche of fire. As explosions rocked the Synthetic Beast's body, Shego's attention returned to Star–

"RAINBOW FIST PUNCH!"

But the princess was quicker on the draw and a Rainbow Fist knocked the wind out of her before Star ran up and connected one of Marco's flying kicks into her face, sending her sprawling out onto her back.

Enduring the hits, Kombat Knat saw Shego go down out of one of his liquid eyes. "RADIANCE!"

The rest of his eyes saw Strikerborg coming in to punch him again, and he shrank down again to avoid her. At the last second, however, she stopped and aimed the Input Magnum over her held up left forearm to steady her aim. Behind her mask, Jo targeted the shrunken Kombat Knat.

"Not this time," she said before firing a single beam mode shot that impacted Kombat Knat and carried him off across the street.

She then turned and aimed the Input Magnum at Shego's head. "And one for you."

Firing a bolt, however, she only hit the ground next to Shego's head, snapping her from her momentary daze. The woman kicked up and stared at Strikerborg in surprise.

"You are a ruthless little–!"

Star's spinning kick connected with the back of her head, forcing her to look down at the ground.

"TWO FOR…!" Landing in front of Shego, she somersault kicked her in the face, lifting her off her feet. "… FLINCHING!"

Floating through the air, Shego blinked in surprise as a single thought passed through her head.

Am I getting jumped?

She curled up into a backward tumble and landed on her feet and found Star keeping her wand on her while Strikerborg's attention was pulled to the other two Beetleborgs.

"Hunterborg, Stingerborg! Are you okay?"

Stingerborg slowly got up, helped by Hunterborg. "Not particularly. I can keep Jara on me, though! Beat the crap out of Shego!"

Typhus was helped back onto his feet by Jara "Hey, you need to keep your eye on the prize!"

"I am…" Jara replied, her gaze fixed on Stingerborg.

Typhus gave her a tense look, then nodded. "Do what you gotta do, baby. I'll try to find KK and get out of here."

Shego looked between the different groups fighting and hummed. Okay it can't have taken this long.

As if on cue, she received a call on an earpiece her long cascading hair had been concealing. Directing her attention to it, she raised her hand to brush it through her hair and answered the call.

"Scion here, Demeter. You can disengage at any time, I have the target and have withdrawn."

Shego smirked and murmured under her breath. "I love it when a plan goes perfectly."

Jara ignited the energy blade of her shortsword, as Stingerborg held out his right arm and equipped the Stinger Blade. Seeing him answer her challenge in kind, she seethed.

"Nothing has changed. You are still a child."

Stingerborg tightened his grip on the handle of his blade. "Well, how many more people you love do I have to kill before I'm a man?"

Hunterborg was wise to get out of the way as quick as his stamina would allow, before Jara shot straight for Stingerborg and swing down on him.

Even using his telekinesis to block her swing, the impact of her overhead swing coming down on his raised Stinger Blade was enough to cause a pair of long fissures to open under the Blue Beetleborg's feet.

As the ground broke beneath his own feet, Roland moved through the slowed down world around him, dashing towards Shego as she began to look toward him and gradually sped up.

Are her reflexes just that quick…?! Roland thought as her energy erupted and she accelerated enough to block his claw before he could close it on her arm.

She blasted him in the face and chest, then sprang into a graceful spinning leap away from both Star's laser beam blast and a cascade of crashing mode shots from Strikerborg. She landed in the narrow space between the deluge of energy blasts and jumped and twirled in a zigzag pattern from them while using her energy to block more projectiles.

Typhus coming up on Shego's right flank surprised her though. "Excuse you?"

Fully facing her, Typhus opened the second mouth atop his head, and it unleashed a scattering barrage of energy bolts that struck Shego as she raised her arms to protect her face, enveloping her in smoke and explosions.

"Whatever you're doing to my pal Kombat Knat stops now!" He declared as he pulled his bony white sword from his second mouth.

Shego lowered her arms, her energy field had absorbed the brunt of that attack. "Sorry, I can't help being easy to die for any more than being easy to die against."

Typhus fell on her, swinging one-handed with barbaric force. She ducked under the first diagonal slash, went even lower to avoid a horizontal return stroke. Lunging forward, she slashed across his belly and circled around him to slash down his caped back. Roaring, he turned to lash out in an upward diagonal strike, but Shego twirled in the direction of his swing to weave away from him.

The Hunter Claw finally caught Shego around her slender waist. Accelerating, he turned around and slammed her into Typhus' chest.

Strikerborg entered 0-1-0 into her Input Magnum as Star's cheekmarks flashed.

"Freezing Mode!" The former called.

"Winterstorm Hyperblow!" The latter shouted with her.

The combined blast of freezing winds slammed into Shego and Typhus as Hunterborg dashed back from the two. Quickly the ice built around the two, until they were encased in a large, heavy block of ice.

Behind Star and Jo, on the other side of the school's front lawn, Drew could feel the strain on his body as he traded blows with Jara. Using his telekinesis to read her overwhelming strikes and brace his right arm against the force was quickly wearing him down.

"You have no place; you have no right to stand before me!" Jara yelled as she turned her energy blade into a whip and lashed him several times after he'd blocked and parried her once more. "You should be a boiled, bloated corpse in that armor!"

Stumbling back, Stingerborg was slashed again, and again with scorch marks appearing in his armor and the shockwaves rumbling through him. Jara chased him down and jammed the energy blade into his armored chest, the beams scattering as she tried to run him through until the physical blade itself slammed into his armor.

Despite the force of the blow, Drew's telekinesis kept him standing. He could feel blood trickling from his nose. Watching and feeling Jara raise her sword above her head and reignited the energy blade, he turned himself to the right while sweeping the blade up to parry and lock her blade.

"Don't tell me. Where I belong. Or what I should be," he growled back. "I already know what I am, and it pisses us both off!"

He riposted, knocking her blade back upward with the force of his telekinesis. Shocked that he could even knock her off her footing, Jara was open long enough for Drew to shoot her twice in the chest with the Input Magnum in its stock beam mode, as she was carried back further, the Stinger Blade's turbine wound up, and he lunged forward to put the blade through her heart.

Jara was just a little quicker, and she deflected the weapon up and the Stinger Blade ground against her armored neck and the side of her mask, chipping some of it away before she threw herself away from Stingerborg in a desperate lunge.

The ice containing Typhus suddenly exploded, forcing Strikerborg to shield Star from the ice shards sailing through the air, as the Synthetic Beast Commander let out an enraged yell, most of his body turning red. Freed from the ice, Shego went tumbling away past the Hunterborg.

"GET AWAY FROM HER!" With his roar, Typhus ignored everything else and shot straight for Stingerborg, pulling his sword back to hit him with all his might.

Drew was surprised by the violence and speed Typhus had come at him with, but after doing so much, he held confidence the fight was over.

When Typhus's blade was stopped by the spiked and curved head of a large, heavy battle ax, he felt the tension leave him completely.

The fight was over.

"We've been over this before, big guy."

Towering above Drew and Typhus was Miss Skullnick, her monstrous body now clad in an old but very strong armor made perfectly for Trolls. "I'll just call this strike two if you leave right now."

Shego got up, and shook her head as she felt the warmth return to her extremities. She looked at Miss Skullnick in no small amount of disbelief.

"There are just ugly monsters all over the place," she muttered, before she found Roland, Jo, and Star standing over her with weapons aimed at her.

"Funny that the ugliest monster here is you," Star said.

Shego gave her a level look, before she let out a laugh. "You know what? I really like you kids; you fight dirty, you never go on the 1v1, and you throw some cold, cold one-liners. Problem is, though?"

Her energy immediately flared up, becoming an expanding sphere that Strikerborg, Hunterborg, and Star scattered from. Back up onto her feet, Shego grinned as her eruption left the ground beneath her feet molten.

"You lack vision," she finished.

"RADIANCE!" Kombat Knat yelled as he grew to full size and landed beside her.

Shego hooked a thumb to him. "Like this guy. He gets it."

Hearing Kombat Knat's voice, Typhus pulled his weapon free from Miss Skullnick's and called back to him. "Hey! KK! You get out of here right now! You gotta job to do!"

Kombat Knat called back. "Yes, I do have a job. It is more important than any other…"

He then put an arm around Shego. "And I will carry it out to the fullest."

With that, he shrank down, taking Shego with him.

Strikerborg turned to Hunterborg. "Hunterborg!"

Looking around, Roland tried to scan for the shrunken Kombat Knat with Jo, but both were gone. "No good. He's a lot faster when he's small."

Star, getting up, looked at her right arm, covered with a sizzling burn from wrist to elbow, then down at the numerous cuts and burns across her body caused by Shego's previous attacks.

"… Okay… I can't put off that armor thing anymore."

Hearing that, Jo looked at Star. "What do… oh my God, Star!"

Star looked up at Jo. "I've had worse, don't worry."

Watching his creation abandon the mission, Typhus turned to Stingerborg and Miss Skullnick.

"Yeah, we're outta here," he said, despondent as he walked over to Jara. "This all went bad, baby. Let's go."

Jara, staring at Stingerborg, allows Typhus to take her by the arm. She cannot leave without one last thing.

"I cannot believe Saberizer showed you any respect in defeat. Everything you have, is nothing you've earned or sacrificed for," she hissed. "Everyone else must foot the bill for your fantasy."

As Jara and Typhus vanished, Drew took a deep breath and released his telekinetic hold on himself. He sagged in his armor, its weight and rigidity holding him up despite his exhaustion.

The only reason I'm fighting is so no one else has to pay, he thought, glad that for all of the chaos that no one else appeared to have been harmed.

Miss Skullnick walked over to Star and the other two Beetleborgs. "Star, you gotta stop getting into these fights here at school!"

"I'm trying!" Star said as she cast a spell on her arm to clean and dress her burns. "It's not my fault Shego attacked, and the Magnavores decided to jump in, too!"

She turned to Hunterborg and Strikerborg. "Thanks for helping out, by the way, you too, Stingerborg!"

Stingerborg walked over, Drew shaking the bitter feeling Jara left with him off. "Don't worry about it."

Miss Skullnick had questions. "Oh yeah, why was Shego even here?!"

Hunterborg shook his head. "Don't worry, ma'am. Whatever she came for, I don't think she got it."

"Uhh… guys?" Mabel called over.

Star and the Beetleborgs looked over at Mabel, Brittney, and Heather. Seeing the three girls, when there should be four, Star's face immediately fell, capturing how all of them felt at that moment.

"… Oh no."

@@@@@​

With Dudley at the wheel, Trip and Van's personal SUV pulled up to the end of their driveway and in front of the Vanderhoff brothers' luxurious home. Climbing out of the car, Trip took two steps and then just leaned back against the side of the vehicle as Van staggered out after him. Turning to him, Van had a concerned expression, and Trip met his taller brother's look with one of contempt.

"What?" Trip asked.

Van looked left and right, before he finally asked. "… Are we really gonna kill Andrew?"

Trip answered far too quickly. "Yes, we're going to fucking kill him! I don't care anymore!"

He pushed off from the side of the car and headed towards the steps going up to his door. "He doesn't get to talk to me like that. No one does."

Trip nearly shoved Dudley off the steps as he went to the door. "Him, his sister, Roland. Pine Tree, his sister, that fat fuck Nazi chick. Hell, throw in Brittney fucking Wong while we're at it. Everyone who thought they could act wise and fucking talk to me like I'm no one. They can all go to fucking hell!"

Dudley just took a deep breath and let it out.

Trip stopped short of opening the door and shook with rage. "Stop being so wishy-washy. Like there's anything they can do to us, like there's any consequences. They can talk all of the shit they want, but we are the people on top–we're the ones who are in control, not them!"

Van trembled himself, frightened, before he slowly nodded. "Yeah… we're in control…"

Drew's scathing defiance, Misao's vehement warning, and the horrified looks on their schoolmates' faces when Trip so boldly boasted about his power over them weighed on him. However.

Van Vanderhoff could not shake the feeling crawling through him, that something very bad was about to happen.

Opening the door–that it was already unlocked not occurring to him–Trip walked inside.

"As a matter of fact, get ahold of Goblin so we can…" He stopped in his tracks.

Misao Darlian was sitting on his living room couch, her hands and legs bound and a gag over her mouth.

When her gray eyes met his, rage filled them as she began to tremble where she sat, huffing loudly.

Trip looked from Misao to the other person in his living room, sitting in the recliner that would be his father's chair. Señor Senior Junior, holding in his right hand a snifter of million-dollar alcohol from his family's clearly broken into liquor cabinet, looked at both Vanderhoff brothers and their butler.

"Oh, hello!" He cheerfully greeted them. "Pardon me, I just let myself in. That is okay, isn't it?"

Trip was at a loss for words at the sight of Misao and the internationally known supervillain sitting in his living room.

Van, however, was not. "W-what are you doing in our house?"

Junior brought the snifter to his nose and inhaled the aroma of the alcohol before stirring it around with a circular motion of his hand. "We needed a place where we could be undisturbed. It's quite dangerous out there."

The three heard the door close behind them. Trip, Van, and Dudley looked back to see Shego slowly walk the door shut, before locking it. Looking from the door to their new hosts, she smiled as she melted the handle in her grip.

"Yeah," she said while an absolutely enthralled Kombat Knat bounced in place on her left shoulder, "There's all sorts of hooligans and crazies running around."

Trip looked pale with terror, and Van about to cry, as Junior gestured to them with the snifter. Only Dudley held his composure, looking more tired than afraid.

The young supervillain addressed them. "So, you needn't worry. By the end of the evening this will all be over; I will have what I want, in addition to whatever you have, and if you cooperate you will keep your lives when this is over. Does that sound good?"

It was Dudley who spoke up in reply. "Master Senior."

Junior looked at him. "Please, call me Junior…?"

He gestured to the old man emphatically, reaching for a name.

"Dudley, sir."

"Yes, Dudley."

Dudley didn't expect to crack the faintest smile, but he stayed to his point. "Master Darlian… she is affiliated with individuals who are extremely dangerous. I would, for the sake of Master Trip and Master Van's safety, prefer it if she were not here–lest those individuals track her to this location."

Senior Señor Junior nodded in understanding. "Worry not, señor. I have taken some very necessary precautions to ensure we have a lengthy lead. By the time her friends catch up to us, we should be all be on our way."

Shego chuckled. "We'll be long gone."

@@@@@​

At Shermie Pines' home, Mabel stared at the screen of Drew's phone as a pin appeared on a map of the hills overlooking Echo Creek. Swiping through the screens, she brought up a physical address and looked up from the phone to the others gathered in the back yard with her.

"We've got her."

Jo punched her fist into her palm. "All right!"

Roland pumped his arm. "They didn't find it!"

Drew, bandaged up a bit but not to the extent he had been before, was a bit skeptical. "How do we know Junior didn't find and dump it somewhere to throw us off?"

Mabel chuckled. "I made sure to put it somewhere he wouldn't look."

Like it was a joke that only she'd been let in on, Jo joined Mabel in chuckling. "Heh, I can't wait to see the look on their faces when they realize it."

Shermie, sitting at the picnic table with them, put an arm around Mabel's shoulders. "Heh, smart as a whip, that's my granddaughter."

He looked at Drew. "You okay there?"

"I'll be fine," Drew assured him as Mabel made a call. "I've already got an appointment at Hyuuga Medical Works lined up for when we're done."

Shermie sighed. "I wish you kiddos weren't getting the tar beat out of you every day, but at least this time I won't just be sitting on the sidelines."

"Don't worry, it's a price I'm willing to pay," Drew reassured Shermie before he looked at his Beetle Bonder. "And as long as there's still work to do, we'll keep fighting, right?"

"Damn right," Roland answered.

"Exactly," Jo added.

Mabel gave him a thumbs up. "Yepperoonie!"

Her call was picked up by Janna. "Hey, Mabel, everything good on your end?"

Mabel gaily answered. "Sure is! I'm sending you the info, now!"

In the heart of the Beetle Battle Base, Janna's fingers glided across the cassette punk keyboard spread out in front of her, entering the location data sent from Mabel's phone to hers. Looking at the map, her eyes widened.

"… No way," she half spoke, half laughed.

Behind her, Dipper walked up with his arms folded. "It's their house, isn't it?"

Janna kept chuckling. "Yep."

"Tonight's just getting better and better," Dipper said with a small smirk of his own. He then called over to Janna's phone. "Are you guys good to move out?"

Mabel was happy to answer. "We're good on our end. Drew and Star are patched up and ready to go!"

Star walked over, accompanied by the formerly disguised janitor–a blonde cow-licked, freckle-faced young man Mabel's age wearing a black shirt and gray cargo pants and green utility belt.

"Uh, hey, Mr. Pines? We've got everything loaded up like you wanted," he said.

Star was pumped up. "Come on, let's go! Misao's not going to rescue herself!"

Shermie reached over and ruffled Star's hair. "Thanks kiddos."

He turned to the others. "You kids ready for this? I'm not gonna sugarcoat it, there might be some blowback from smashing up the Vanderhoff place."

He then adjusted his glasses. "But frankly? These schmendricks have it coming."

"All that and more," Mabel said with an malicious anticipation as the Beetleborgs and Star agreed with nods.

Dipper, overhearing them, likewise agreed. "Yeah, let's get started."

He turned to Janna. "Raise the Beetle Battle Base and get ready to send out the AVs." To the phone he issued the order. "Everybody, we're moving out and going to Trip and Van's house! Let's go get Misao back."

Mabel pumped her fist. "Woo! Let's go, guys! SSJ and Shego have no idea what's headed their way!"

Drew, Jo, and Roland all nodded to one another, and held their Beetle Battlers up to the darkening sky.

"Beetle Blast!"

Outside of Hillhurst Mansion, a white and gray-painted tilt-rotor VTOL sat with its engines off. Hearing Dipper's call, Marco tightened his grip on his phone and looked over to Jackie. "You hear that?"

Jackie nodded. "Yep, we're getting our get-back."

Marco looked over at the young woman waiting standing by the tilt-rotor aircraft's open rear hatch. She wore the same black shirt and gray cargo pants as the fake janitor over at Shermie's house, but she had long straight red hair and green eyes that lit up with anticipation when Marco called to her.

"It's go time, you ready?"

The young woman flicked her hair and nodded. "For a shot at Shego? I am so ready."

*********************************************************************
-
-WELCOME TO A PLACE THAT DOES NOT EXIST
-A PLACE WHERE THOSE WHO DO GO UNSEEN TREAD
-A PLACE THAT WILL NOT EXIST WHEN YOU LEAVE
-YOU ARE HERE BECAUSE WE NOTICED YOU
-YOU ARE HERE BECAUSE WE ACKNOWLEDGED YOU
-YOU ARE HERE BECAUSE WE ACCEPTED YOU
-YOU ARE HERE
-BECAUSE YOU ARE MEDJED
-
-
-Rules! Only @Medjed @Medjed#GarageWizard and @Medjed#BrainNoise may
ping. You ping? You b&! Don't dox yourself, or others, we will find
you. No links to pr0n or warez, and for the last fucking time
Bakuryuu Sentai Abaranger IS THE BEST FUCKING SENTAI AND IF YOU SAY
ANYTHING ELSE I WILL SUPLEX YOU ON CEMENT. Links outside OGREclient
are clicked at your own risk, don't post them unless you're confident
of your security. They're always watching and waiting, Medjed, and
the only X-Factor is if YOU screw up. If you see something, say
something! Your hack is our exploit! #FreeEmilio
#JusticeForTheWhiteHats
-Topic of the D-A-Y: TEAM POSSIBLE IN LA
-
*********************************************************************
<Medjed#12is00> OMG. OMG. OMG. OMG. OMG.
<Medjed#MonitorLizard> What?
<Medjed#12is00> SHEGO WAS FIGHTING THE BEETLEBORGS AND STAR BUTTERFLY
IN LA. SHE WAS EVEN FIGHTING THOSE MAGNAVORE GUYS! O M G THERE'S SO
MUCH GOING ON.
<Medjed#MonitorLizard> Oh no.
<Medjed#12is00> IT'S H A P P E N I N G!
<Medjed#MonitorLizard> This is very bad. Kou, Otsu, are you two okay?
<Medjed#ITG-Otsu> We're OK, don't worry about us.
<Medjed#ITG-Kou> That stuff is happening in Echo Creek, and that's up
near Glendale. Literally 20 minutes away from where we hang out.
<Medjed#ITG-Otsu> So like two hours with traffic.
<Medjed#MonitorLizard> @GarageWizard, are you following this? This
could get very bad, very quick.
<@Medjed#GarageWizard> Don't worry guys. It's all under control.
<Medjed#MonitorLizard> Shego being anywhere near that much power is a
bad idea.
<Medjed#GarageWizard> Don't worry, the situation is as far as I can
tell, okay. While I'm here, @Medjed. Is the you know what done?
<@Medjed> Oh yeah, it's done.

= - = 7-4 = - =​

A turntable turnabout! The gang is on the case and with powerful allies on their side, they're ready to begin the counterattack! What will become of Misao, and of the Vanderhoffs no less. The stakes continue rising in Volume 7!

 

[The Ero-Sennin]

Brace yourselves for an extra large chapter!

= - = 7-5 = - =

|A Small Fish in a Big Pond|​

His hands and feet bound together, Trip was sat down on the couch next to his brother, directly across from Misao. Satisfied with her work, Shego turned to Dudley and opened and closed her hand like a cat extending and retracting her claws.

"You gonna give me trouble, or are you as checked out as you look?" She asked him.

"I have no intention of resisting you if it means harm comes to Master Trip and Master Van," Dudley replied as he served Junior a cup of coffee.

Junior nodded to Dudley. "Thank you, Dudley."

The hum in response was curt and professional, but even Shego could tell man was having the time of his life.

Powerless in his bonds, Trip tried looked from Dudley, filled with hate at the butler's complete lack of initiative, to Shego. "Look, you want money, right? I can get you that, as much as you want. Five million? Ten million? My Dad's good for it!"

Shego hummed at the offer. "The way I see it, I'm already getting everything you're offering me when we clean you out."

She gestured to Junior. "And that guy? I'm pretty sure his Dad spends more in a month maintaining his fish tank than you paid for this house."

Junior chuckled. "Father does love his clownfish."

Trip squirmed. "Screw you! What did I ever do to you, huh?!"

Junior took a sip of his coffee. "Oh my, this is exquisite… and powerful."

"It's how I cope," Dudley replied.

"I AM TALKING TO YOU!" The smaller Vanderhoff wailed.

Van was not participating in Trip's one-sided screaming match with Junior. He was staring at Misao, who was giving him and his brother the same wide-eyed, hate-filled glare she had when they first walked in. Aside from her breathing and the occasional blink, she was entirely still.

Junior noticed the murderous look in his field of vision and directed his full attention to it. "I mean. I have kidnapped her, and I am holding her hostage with the intent of extorting her family–but she is looking at you with the kind of hate I think would start genocides."

Shego looked at him. "Was that a joke about her being German or Japanese?"

Junior turned to her, aghast. "Neither!"

"That was in poor taste, Master Shego," Dudley delivered in his unflappable monotone.

Shego looked at Dudley. "You know what? I've only known those two for ten minutes and I can dig why you just seem to feel nothing."

Dudley glanced at her. "Why do you?"

The butler's question in kind cut deeper than Shego liked.

As Junior winced and reverse-hissed through his teeth, Trip yelled.

"What the hell is even so special about this dumb fat pig, huh?!" He demanded as he nodded towards Misao.

Shego stopped slipping into unwanted self-introspection and leveled a flat glare at him. Junior wasn't anymore appreciative, and he'd tased the girl.

"You do not know who this girl is?" Junior asked.

Trip shook his head. "Clearly, she's not important enough for me to care! She hangs out with losers, so she's a loser, too."

Junior gestured with an upraised palm towards Misao. "That is Momiji Hyuuga's daughter."

The color drained from Van's face, and Dudley went very still.

Trip stared in silence at Junior, then looked at Misao, and then back at him. He let out a laugh. "Momiji Hyuuga doesn't have a daughter."

Junior nodded. "She does, and this is her."

Van began mumbling. "Trip… Hyuuga Heavy Industries has almost as much money as the Mendō family, or Makel Pratham… they donate weapons to Ukraine and Shanghai…"

Trip said it louder, like increasing his volume would make it the truth. "You're lying! She doesn't have a daughter, and if she did it would not be this fat fuck!"

Misao was still staring at the brothers, and the hatred in her eyes was as intense as ever, but now her eyebrows were raised. There was a glee there in her expression–like she was still angry but now she was enjoying it.

"Obviously the leading manufacturer of Superweapons would not be very forthcoming about her family, because well…" Junior gestured to himself, inferring the situation at hand.

Shego had been rather annoyed by the body shaming going on and decided to twist the knife. "Oh yeah, wait until she finds out that you guys constantly harassing her friends helped us track her down."

Trip laughed again. "This is all a joke! A big ol' prank to get back at me."

He turned to Misao, still laughing. "Stop playing around, this is your payback, isn't it?!"

He stopped laughing as anger filled his voice. "It isn't funny! Tell them that you're nobody! Just some fat chested bimbo from Europe!"

Misao let out a menacing, muffled laugh from deep in her chest, as she shook her head.

Shego leaned on the back of Misao's couch. "I guess the only saving grace is that her friends have no clue where she is or even where to start looking."

A rock bounced off the patio door. As the Vanderhoffs spent a lot of money on the house, their windows wouldn't be so easily broken.

Junior looked towards the window, just as his phone beeped and he looked at it. "What? The Fenrir have detected intruders?"

Misao brightened and began laughing harder as Shego looked past Trip and Van and out the window. It was almost completely black, with all the lights in their backyard out and the interior lighting on full.

Staring into the pitch darkness, Shego saw a pair of glowing eyes and two heart-shapes beneath them staring back.

Realization dawned on her. "SSJ… they found us."

Junior nearly dropped his coffee. "What? How?!"

Shego went for the door. "We'll review that later. Release the hounds!"

Opening the door and pulling it closed behind her, Shego found Star waiting on the other side of the Vanderhoff home''s pool. Already, power began to swirl around her hands.

"Well, hello there, Princess," Shego said, "Looking for round two?"

Star, smiling, replied. "Come on, you want it more than me."

Shego walked up to the edge of the pool as her power coursed up her arms and down her body. "You know what? I do have a sort of professional pride when it comes to this sort of thing."

She glanced around. "So how about it: Let's cut loose and see what all of us can really do."

With that, she dipped her left foot into the water, as her power finally reached it. A great cloud of steam erupted, spreading across the pool buffeting Star as it enveloped her.

Instead of Shego lunging at Star through the cloud, the sound of metallic footsteps galloping towards her, and a revving chainsaw brought the Princess's attention to her right. A single shining red light illuminated the steam before an orange-hot glowing chainsaw blade cut through it and towards her.

"Whoa…!" Star yelped as she backflipped away from the sweeping blade, then cartwheeled from the same blade coming down vertically. As she exited the cloud of mist, a large mechanical quadruped with a box-shaped head sporting a single mono-eye camera at its front lunged out after her and tackled her to the ground.

Staring up at the machine as it raised its left claw, Star brought up her wand and used it to block its attempt at caving in her skull. "Robot wolves?! That is so cool!"

"Like 'em?" Shego asked. "LQ-84s aren't exactly cheap, you know."

The machine's long and flexible tail lifted the rapidly spinning chainsaw–held with three smaller wires at the tail's end–up above Star to plunge it into her chest.

Star made sure the bell of her wand was pointed at the machine. "Mega Geyser Windstorm!"

A high-pressure jet of water from her wand struck the Fenrir in the neck and chest, throwing it off her. As the Fenrir went up, Shego came down, cutting through the geyser with her glowing hands, and causing another steam explosion.

Star curled up and rolled back onto her feet and began dodging madly to avoid Shego's violent slashes and the trails of glowing energy they left in their wake. The moment she opened distance between them, Star aimed the wand at her.

"Laser Be–!"

A glowing trio of knives shot through the mist towards her, and Star ducked under the attack from another of the robot beasts. The Fenrir she blasted into the air came down and bounced off the pool deck, before scrambling up and throwing its own knives.

As Star dodged the superheated blades, Shego gracefully flipped over her head, twirled and kicked her in the face, sending her stumbling backward.

"Ugh…!" She turned her clumsy footwork into a backpedal from more slashes Shego swung for her face and center mass.

"Can't do too much without that vocal component, huh?!" The villainess asked as Star weaved under her and tried to get behind her, only to be left wide open to another of the Fenrir pouncing towards her to slash with its claws.

Rather than cast a spell, Star spun-kicked the whole machine in the head, knocking it away from her. As she finished the kick, she targeted the robot. "Laser Beam Blast!"

The beam connected with the Fenrir, damaging it. She spun and ducked when Shego took advantage and came for her neck, her burning hands slicing off one of the horns of her headband. When Star tried to sweep Shego, the taller woman skipped over the attempt and punished her with another kick to her face.

Star staggered back, bringing her free hand to her nose, and then up to her headband at the missing horn. Her eyes widening when she felt the damage, she glared at Shego.

"Hey! My ex-boyfriend got me this!"

Shego stopped and gawked at her. "Wow, and you kept it?"

She went in fast and began jabbing at Star. The Princess bobbed her head left and right to narrowly evade the deadly blows. "It's complicated!"

One slash cut Star's cheek, before she parried two more punches with her wand, she pointed her wand at Shego's chest. "Butterfly Blast!"

A multicolored beam struck Shego, and she backed up with smoke and butterflies wafting from her damaged top.

The two Fenrir jumped in next, one throwing knives that Star knocked away with her wand. As the other pounced on her, she leap-frogged over it and let it screech to a stop behind her.

Before it could turn and attack her, there was a clang like something heavy striking metal, and the Fenrir lumbered to its left, before it was hit again, and again. Thunder echoed in the distance as three more times the monster was struck.

Shego's eyes widened as she watched the machine hobble, a set of massive holes blown into its side and neck, before it collapsed, silent. "… What the heck?"

Looking in the direction that the fire came from, she looked further up the hills that overlooked Echo Creek, and spotted a white SUV parked on the winding road. Standing with his back braced against the side of his car and holding the Boys Anti-Tank Rifle taken from his living room, was Shermie.

"Hahaha, looks like we old timers still got it!" The elder Pines shouted to his gun and his spotter–Waddles, who was sitting on the hood of the SUV wearing a vest and an army helmet.

"Long range backup?" Shego asked.

"Narwhal Blast!" Star yelled.

Shego leaped gracefully to avoid a barrage of commotion causing cetaceans. When she came down, she looked up to not see Star, but Marco Diaz with fire in his eyes and wrath in his fists coming towards her.

"Oh, so now you're jumping in–?!" She swung at Marco, who went up and over the slash to bring his heel down in a flying wheel kick that had Shego staring at the ground as pain throbbed through her.

"Ohhhohoho no you did NOT!" Shego growled before she came up fighting, performing an uppercut Marco weaved under and opened up on her with quick jabs that connected to Shego's chest and face.

"And what if I did?!" Marco asked as he kept up the barrage of blows that Shego expertly began to parry now that surprise was not on his side.

"Then I feel…" Shego swung her right foot in a low kick to block Marco's own attempt while she blocked his quick punches with her right hand high and her left low. "… Sorry for you!"

Switching the position of her hands, blocking Marco's attempt to break her block. She knocked his guard wide open and kicked him in the side below his left arm and then snap kicked him in quick succession in the side of the head, connecting with his raised left forearm.

"You stupid dogs get to work!" Shego yelled, and Marco recovered from the force of Shego's kicks to jump aside from another of the mechanical beasts lunging at him.

She was about to turn her attention back to Star–now avoiding the chainsaw swings of yet another of the Fenrir machines, when a spear entered her field of view, and she leaned back to avoid a thrust aimed for the side of her head.

Shego swung to cut the silver spearhead from its shaft, but Jackie Lynn Thomas moved it clear before thrusting it for the villainess' center mass. Shego swayed left and right, avoiding the spear tip, but her attempts to grab it were foiled by Jackie's skillful maneuvering of the weapon, keeping it out of her reach and always on the attack.

"What the heck are they feeding you kids?!" Shego asked while on the defensive. "I remembered when there was only one of you uppity teenagers thinking they could throw hands!"

Jackie kept up the offensive, aiming for Shego's vitals and narrowly missing her. "Nobody told you what happens in Echo Creek, huh?"

She quickly wreathed her body in energy, repelling the spear when Jackie lunged for her heart. When Jackie was parried, she riposted, aiming to slash through the weapon, but Shego was blasted in the back with a magic ray made of cupcakes and went flying past her.

Star, on the other side of the beam, quickly jumped away from the Fenrir she'd gotten clear enough from to attack.

"Thanks Star!" Jackie called to the Princess.

"You're welcome, Jackie~!" Star said before she aimed her wand at her opponent. "Tiara Tornado!"

Seeing yet another Fenrir fade into view, its tail whipping about, Jackie quickly spun her spear and deflected two of the knives thrown at her while a third slashed across her shoulder, thinly cutting and cauterizing the wound in the same instant. "Ah!"

The Fenrir itself lunged, but Jackie slammed the spear down and swung herself up into a handstand atop of it to avoid the pounce. Pulling the weapon up, she swung herself around and bashed the Fenrir over its head with the shaft of the spear.

Between ducks and jumps to avoid his Fenrir's chainsaw, Marco was impressed by Jackie's moves. "She's so cool…!"

The blades of the chainsaw came in fast–and Marco leaned back as the grinding, red hot teeth of the blade passed so close they almost grazed his chin. He was worried in that instant that the heat from the weapon would burn his face.

Shego's heel came down on his face the instant the blade past, and Marco was bounced off the wooden deck and into a fast three-hit combo that lifted him higher off his feet before Shego used a weaker concussive energy blast to launch him into the Vanderhoff's patio window.

"You're not that good," Shego informed him, before Star cast another Laser Beam Blast. She leaped into a handspring over it, then threw herself into a spinning triple axel that became a rolling kick she dropped on Star's head in the same way Marco did her.

The kick jarred Star hard enough to make her drop the wand, which went skipping across the pool deck. Seeing the wand flung away, Shego open palm struck Star with no powers flowing through her right hand, then backhanded her the other direction. Grabbing her left hand, she pulled her around and then punched her hard in the stomach before letting her go, turning in place, and kicking her in the face to send her crashing into the furniture by the pool's fire pit.

Jackie saw Star go into the furniture, but before she could intervene, she found herself face to face with the now unoccupied Fenrir, three of them surrounding her.

Then there were two as more Anti-Tank Rifle fire crashed into the Fenrir directly in front of her, and she jumped back from the flanking lunges of the other two. When she looked again, Shego was walking over towards the wand.

"Well, that was easy," she said as she bent down to pick up the wand, "Now, let's see if I can be a magical girl."

A hiking boot-clad foot slipped under the wand and scooped it up to hit Shego in the face with it, before that same boot came back around hit the surprised supervillain in the same spot. Staggering backward, surprised, Shego stopped when she realized she didn't even notice this one coming.

"How many more of you…" She stopped and opened her eyes wide when she saw who had struck her.

"A magical girl, Shego, really?"

Standing in front of her was Kimberly Ann Possible, flicking her long red hair as she flashed her an amused smile.

"No judgment of what you're into, but I don't think you can rock the look."

Jackie, keeping away from the Fenrir, sighed in relief when she saw Kim. "Here we go…"

Shego glanced around for the wand, and found it by the edge of the pool, well out of reach. She turned back to Kim. "I've already kicked one Princess off her throne today, Kimmie, and I'm happy to make it two."

Kim just kept smiling. "We'll see."

With that, Shego attacked, and Kim moved. Energy blazing from her hands, Shego swung at Kim with haymakers, jabs, and crosses–and Kim just seemed to flow around them. Her hands came up, parrying the faster blows she couldn't evade like Shego was in slow motion.

Even her attempts at catching Kim's feet with low kicks were stopped with dance like in-steps by the redhead as she circled Shego then walked back from her, staying on the defensive.

"You've had a long day, haven't you?" Kim asked as she deflected Shego's right hooking slash with her own right forearm, then kicked her across the face.

Shego turned with the kick and staggered away from Kim. It was then that she noticed that she was breathing heavily and even her energy was losing its potency. "What the…?"

She shook her head and narrowly avoided a diving kick from Kim. When the agile redhead turned on her to attack, Shego was on the defensive, ducking under several kicks before she parried the last and then exchanged several deflected and blocked jabs with Kim.

As she began to retreat under the assault, the realization dawned on her. "… Crap…!"

Fighting the Beetleborgs and Typhus as part of Junior's plan took a toll on her. They expected to have a much longer head-start without any way to track them down, so she could rest up for the next round… but here they were. Sure ,the other kids were easy pickings, but this was Kim. Who was a tough fight even when Shego was fresh.

Not that she'd ever admit that.

Star coming to their literal doorstep, the hoodie kid and the spear girl throwing down on her without any hesitation despite not being on her level, the long-range fire support, and now Kim just waltzing up like a special guest star. These concerns finally caused the most worrisome thought to occur to Shego.

Wait a second… did they plan this?!

Blocking Kim, Shego gasped when her arm was caught, and she was flung in a perfectly executed hip throw off the edge of the pool deck and into the rest of the Vanderhoffs' backyard. Getting up, huffing, Shego assumed her fighting stance again.

"Hang on a second, clue me in," she said, "When did you get here?"

Kim was feeling coy. "Not as long as you, but plenty of time to get rested up for tonight."

"Why are you always a step ahead of SSJ?" Shego asked as the indignation of that confirmation let her powers flare brighter.

Kim perked up, and she looked back to see the two remaining Fenrir suddenly back off from the very pressed Jackie and come charging towards her. To her left and right, Kim spotted two more materialize out of thin air, and close in on her.

"You know what? Nevermind," Shego instructed her. "You're right about one thing: I'm tired… of all of you!"

@@@@@​

Trip and Van watched as the battle between Star and Shego kicked off. How despite being face to face with the deadly weapons of multiple Unmanned Gears, Star, Marco Diaz, and Jackie Lynn Thomas of all people were fighting them and Shego. It looked more like a schoolyard brawl than a battle to the possible death–except when it looked like one of those machines, and then another, were smashed by someone shooting from far away.

Dudley, watching as Marco got up and shook his head after being down for a few moments, turned his attention towards Junior, who was likewise watching the brawl. "It would appear that Master Kim Possible has arrived to aid Master Misao's friends."

"I was concerned for this," Junior said. "I should've known seeing him meant that the game was already up."

"Hey," Van said not to Junior, but to Misao.

Misao acknowledged Van by focusing her contemptuous gaze on him.

He shrank when he felt its full force but continued. "You… weren't serious about what you said this morning, were you? When this is done, you're not gonna like… kill us, or something?"

She stared at him, and then slowly shook her head.

That brought some relief to him. "I… I've been thinking about all this, and this is too much–trying to k-kill you and your friends. After you jumped us, we were mad and wanted to hurt you, so we called that Goblin guy, and when we heard that he beat Pine… Dipper up we thought you guys would get the message and leave, but you didn't. This has escalated so much that I'm afraid somebody might really die soon…"

Trip looked at Van, trying to figure out where he was going with this, Junior and Dudley both were similarly quiet as they observed.

"So… I'm sorry. Trip, and I, we'll leave you alone. You can do whatever you want to get back at us, and we'll be done. Just don't kill him or me."

Misao stared, wide-eyed at him, otherwise unresponsive. Trip glared at his brother, looking betrayed.

After several moments, she looked at Junior and tilted her chin up, indicating the duct tape over her mouth. Understanding her intent, Junior walked over and with great care not to hurt her or get bitten, gently peeled away the gag. With her mouth free, Misao looked at Van.

"Killing either of you is not enough," she said calmly. "I want you to live and suffer for as long as you possibly can."

Van flinched, as Misao continued. "I want every waking moment you have, to be one of regret and despair."

She slowly shook her head as she had done before. "You hurt my friends. People that I've only known for a very short time but have come to cherish for being so kind and warm to me. They did not care that I am rich, or that I am the daughter of Momiji Hyuuga. They saw me and my value as a person and stood up for the people you tormented for fun, I love and admire them for that."

Misao leaned forward, as she spoke for emphasis. "They may, in time, forgive you… they are good people, but I will never. I swear to you–on my own life–that your lives will be a neverending hell and I will dedicate my wealth and power to ensure it. If you live to be a hundred, two hundred, a thousand years… every second needs to be a reminder that you live because death is too good for you and your suffering is perfect for me."

The pit of ice in Van's stomach almost made him want to throw up, as he averted his eyes from Misao's to look at his brother. Trip looked almost delirious, like he was trying to wake up from this nightmare he was having but could not find his way out.

Dudley closed his eyes and lowered his head somberly, while Junior stepped forward. "Misao, if I may?"

She didn't spare him a glance. "No you may not."

Junior defied her. "I have nothing to say of those two. Rather, I would like to discuss the something with you?"

This pulled her gaze from the Vanderhoffs to him, and the same ice Van felt in his gut formed in Junior's veins.

"What is so important?"

Junior looked at the brothers, and then reached into his pocket before pulling out a small black box, like one could carry jewelry inside.

"Well, there is something I need to give to you," he confessed.

Misao's expression went from contemptuous to confused and curious. "Was?"

Dudley lifted his head, confused as well. Both Vanderhoffs stared, gobsmacked at Junior.

"This was all… very complicated. It should have been resolved weeks ago, but your dear friends interfered, and it turned into a disaster."

Misao stared at the box and then looked up at him. "I do not understand."

"There are things that cannot be attained with money, not even vast amounts." Junior explained. "That is why I dedicated myself to being a supervillain, to take what criminals and even billionaires cannot grasp."

He brought a hand to his chest. "And that is why I am here."

Taking the box in both hands, he opened it to reveal a simple silvery necklace, with three beautifully cut diamond-shaped crystals attached to its middle. The center crystal was three times the size of its companions, and the light striking them sent small streams of multi-colored beams scattering in every direction.

Misao's eyes widened as she stared at the necklace. "… What is this?"

"This is something that belongs to you," Junior answered, "And I would like to return it."

She looked from the necklace back to him. "I have never seen it before."

Junior grew somewhat concerned. "Are you sure?"

He held the case closer to her. "Because I was told that you would want it."

Misao looked from Junior to the jewelry, wondering what he could possibly mean, before she felt a chill run through her.

Then, suddenly, she could hear her pulse rushing through her ears as the world began to fall away; first the Vanderhoffs and Dudley, then the room she was sitting in, and finally Señor Senior Junior.

Her eyes locked onto the crystals, and slowly dilated as the sound of her own pulse slowed down, until it hung at a beat per second.

Watching Misao seemingly slip into a trance as she stared at the necklace, Dudley grew very worried. Van looked at Trip, then back at Misao as Junior removed the necklace from the case and moved behind her to carefully connect the ends of the chain around her neck.

"H-hey!" Van said. "Why is she zoning out like that? Is… is it a good idea to give that to her?"

Junior looked at him and shook. "Oh, no, not at all. But like I said…"

He clicked the necklace closed.

"There are some things that you cannot get with money."

Misao didn't react. She didn't even blink. Still entranced, she stared through the Vanderhoffs and out into infinity.

"Is she okay?" Van asked.

Junior tilted his head in confusion. "I… do not know? I was only told to give it to her…"

He noticed something moving through her hair. "What's this?"

Reaching down, Junior began to part her dark-dyed locks, trying to find out what could be moving around in there–when whatever it was abruptly moved up and bit his hand.

"HIJO DE PUTA!" He screamed out as he yanked his hand free and found a familiar pink rodent–a naked mole rat to be precise–clamped onto his hand with its jaws.

The rodent looked up at Junior with brown beady eyes as he recognized it. "You!"

Thunderous footsteps from the hallway leading to the Vanderhoff home's kitchen were followed by Mabel and the the blonde fake janitor entering the living room, running up and simultaneously flying kicking Junior in the chest, sending him across the living room and into the wall used to project their television on.

"Booyah!" Ron Stoppable cheered as he and Mabel landed from their kick.

Mabel turned to him, raising her hands. "Who's bad?!"

Ron gave her a double high-five. "We're bad!"

Mabel turned to the others. "Misao! We're here to save you!"

Van sagged in relief. "Oh, thank God, we're saved!"

"Please, get us out of here!" Trip yelled at Ron. "We were taken hostage, too, they broke into our house and tied us up–"

Mabel looked at them both. "Go fuck yourselves."

Both brothers fell silent.

Mabel directed her attention to Dudley. "You're good, though."

Dudley snapped his fingers into a thumb's up to Mabel in reply.

Trip looked pleadingly at Ron, who quickly held up his hands. "Look guys, whatever beef you've got? We're just here for Shego and SSJ. As Kim would say, we are so not involved in the drama."

Rufus scampered over to Ron and crawled his way up to his shoulder. "You get her binds Rufus?"

"Mmhm!" The naked mole rat replied while saluting.

Despite Mabel's harsh words, Van called out. "Hey, Junior did something to her!"

Mabel looked from Van to Junior and back to Misao, her tone icy with fury. "What did he do?"

"I don't know, he put some necklace on her, and she just zoned out!" Van quickly said.

Rushing over to Misao, with Ron and Rufus right behind her, Mabel looked at the necklace and then at the other girl's blank expression. "Hey, Misao! Snap out of it!"

Ron looked at the necklace. "Careful, it might be some kind of mind-control device."

Mabel turned to face Junior, incensed. "What did you do to her?!"

A far more pressing problem sprang up behind them, prompting both Trip and Van to scream in terror and Dudley to recoil with fright. Mabel, Ron, and Rufus turned to find Kombat Knat looming over them. After looking up at his gnarled teeth, their gazes fell to his shining red liquid eyes.

"In the name of my Radiance, you will not escape."

"Oh wow, that's really Kombat Knat!" Ron screamed.

With a sweep of his arm, Mabel and Ron were flung rag-dolling over the couch Misao sat on and across the room.

Van and Trip were too busy screaming loudly in terror at the ugliest thing they've ever seen. The object of their terror turned to face them and raised his claws menacingly.

"SILENCE. My Radiance needs the girl alive, but you are suitable snacks. The more you scream the hungrier I'll get!"

Mabel, snapping out of her daze, looked up to see Kombat Knat shove aside the couch Misao was on to stand over her and Ron. "You interlopers will pay–AAAAAHHHHH!"

Rufus, the little MVP, had scrambled onto his foot, and bit down with incisors rated to cut through steel like it was nothing.

Together, Mabel and Ron sprang into action, each pulling out their respective grappling hook guns and firing them, hitting Kombat Knat in his largest eyes at point blank range. Kombat Knat screamed louder as he stumbled back from them.

Mabel turned her head to look at Ron, then at his and her respective grapple guns. "Your first thought was grappling hook, too?!"

Ron shrugged. "I guess we're on the same vibe?"

Mabel quickly looked for Misao, but instead found Señor Senior Junior swinging another stun baton towards her face.

Shooting her right arm up, she let the whole baton crash into and snap in two on her forearm. Seeing this, and Mabel's glowering face beyond it, Junior grew alarmed. "Um…!"

Mabel's fist plowed into Junior's mouth and the young man was thrown into Trip and Van hard enough to make the whole couch they were seated on fall backward.

Ron stared at Mabel, stunned. "Um…!"

Mabel shook her left hand. "That stings so much…"

Flinging Rufus off his foot, Kombat Knat launched two of his extending arms at Mabel. Ron tackled her back down and under them as they impaled the wall. Getting up, she realized that he was between them and Misao.

"We're not leaving without her!"

"Then you're not leaving alive." Kombat Knat quickly vanished from sight, shrinking down and speeding up to them. Growing to full size and shoving them back from the space he occupied, he swung down to slash through Mabel with his claws, but she jumped clear of his clumsy strike.

Ron turned around and bolted for Misao. "I'll get her!"

Before he could reach her, Junior tackled Ron, and the two of them went to the floor brawling.

As Mabel hopped back and around Kombat Knat, never turning from him, she pulled the M1951 from her skirt pocket. Aimed at Kombat Knat's eyes, she fired wildly, the bullets impacting and punching into the Synthetic Beast's hide. Shrieking, he retaliated by launching his extending arms at her, missing but shattering the patio windows.

Mabel saw an opportunity, changing direction and going out the window while still shooting and taunting the monster to lure him outside. "Come and get me then, bug boy!"

Kicking off as he shrank down, Kombat Knat became a missile in pursuit of his prey. Reaching the falling shards of glass, many of them larger than him, he began to leap from one to the other, rapidly changing direction and picking up speed before he sprang off a final large piece and shot past the fleeing girl.

Growing to full size with the pool to his left Kombat Knat screeched as Mabel turned to face him and skidded to a halt.

Unfortunately for the monster, all he fell into was Shermie's sights. An instant after he grew to full size, the old man had drawn a bead.

"Have a taste of how we do it in Jersey, eight eyes!"

He squeezed the trigger, using the weapons massive kick to speed up the pull on the weapons bolt to chamber another round and fire again. Then again. Then two more times after that within a space of time that even the best target shooters would scream obscenities about the possibility of achieving.

The five armor-piercing rounds smashed into Kombat Knat, the sheer force of the combined impacts knocking him away from Mabel. Wounded, he staggered towards the pool and fell into the water with a splash.

Mabel waved in Shermie's direction. "Thanks Sherpa!"

Hearing the cacophony of Ron and Junior fighting inside the house, she looked around for some backup to take her back into it. "Marco?! Jackie?!"

She found them both helping Star up. "Are you guys okay?!"

Jackie turned to the two. "Yeah… Shego's really strong, and those crazy wolf robots are bad, too. Your Grandpa's helping but… yeah…"

Marco turned to Star. "What about you?"

Star shook her head, trying to clear the cobwebs out. "I… really need to work on that armor thing…"

"Where's Kim?" Mabel asked.

Marco turned and pointed off the patio. "… Fighting Shego and the…"

Off the pool deck, between the patio and the wall surrounding the Vanderhoffs' property, a dance was taking place. Four LQ-84 Fenrir Unmanned Gears were swinging their chainsaw blades, lashing out with their claws, and even throwing themselves bodily at Kim Possible, whose mixture of gymnastics, acrobatics, and plain old cheerleading kept the margins between their attacks and her body wide.

One of the chainsaw blades came in low, and Kim leaped off the ground over it and the Fenrir swinging. Snatching one of the few remaining knives located in the three-blade knife holster on the Fenrir's rear legs as she passed over it, she weaved under its chainsaw's attempt at carving into her and slashed the cable holding it with the knife.

The second Fenrir fighting her threw itself at her, spiraling towards her with claws outstretched, but Kim dove and tumbled under the charging machine. As she came up, she threw the knife back and sliced through its tail, also disarming it of the ability to use its main weapons.

As the still running chainsaw of the unit fell to the grassy ground, Kim jumped hard onto it. When it bounced, she maneuvered her feet, and spun it like a helicopter rotor under her. Catching it by its side mounted motor with one foot, she kicked it into a third Fenrir, the hot blade grinding through and destroying it as Kim landed.

The last intact Fenrir galloped at Kim, while the other two were getting up, she was more concerned with Shego–who coordinated her attack with the fourth Fenrir. Shego looked a little miffed, while Kim was still wearing a competitive and defiant smile.

"Yeah," Shego said as she boxed with Kim like the title belt was on the line, energy covering her fists like gloves. "You think you're really slick, huh?!"

Kim kept her guard up, staying light on her feet, so light that when Shego tried to kick them from under her, she sidestepped and switched positions with her. The next two punches Shego threw at her, Kim slapped aside, before she drove the heel of her right palm into Shego's left cheek.

"I'm more…" Kim did not let up, palming Shego left and right with both hands before she drove one last strike into her chin, throwing her back. "Smooth than slick!"

She back flipped when the fourth Fenrir leaped into a forward midair tumble, becoming a giant wheel of death with its saw blade. Back flipping several times, Kim then jumped up back onto the pool deck, avoiding the other two remaining Fenrir.

Turning to Mabel, she smiled. "Hey, where's Ron?"

She pointed back in the house. "Fighting Señor Senior Junior."

Indeed, the two young men were still rolling around on the hardwood floor, trying to get on top so they could pin the other, but both were being really squirrelly about staying on the bottom.

"And the creepy bug monster?"

Mabel pointed into the pool. "Sherpa shot him."

Indeed, Kombat Knat was sinking to the bottom of it.

Kim thumbed back towards the edge of the pool deck. "And Shego and her robot dog show are down there. Awesome. We should wrap this up."

Mabel pulled the front of her sweater and reached down into it, before pulling out Marco's phone and unmuting a conference call. "Hey guys, it's time to finish the job!"

Getting while rubbing her jaw, Shego shouted. "Oh, we're far from finished!"

The sound of rotors at high speed caught Shego's attention, and she looked up and back to see the Red Striker AV rise above the wall, its fuselage pointing towards her while its ducted fans oriented straight up to keep it hovering.

Inside the cockpit, beneath the Strikerborg's helmet, Jo smiled as the AV's computer targeted Shego and the remaining Fenrir.

"I think you're done!" She said as she pressed down the trigger.

Shego was moving as soon as she saw the first flash, and a cascade of energy bolts fell upon her and the Fenrir. The Unmanned Gears stood no chance under the sustained assault, the energy bolts tearing them apart as Strikerborg focused her fire on them. As they went down one my one, Strikerborg pulled back on the sticks and the laser barrage crawled upward towards Shego, who was headed for the far wall and cover.

She didn't make it, for through that far wall the Stinger AV smashed through and its prow slammed into Shego's stomach as Stingerborg brought the vehicle to a stop before he could run her over. Shego was thrown backward onto the ground, coughing loudly as she tried to recover her breath.

Inside the house, Junior pinned Ron onto his back, and raised his fist. "How did you get here so quickly?! How did you find us?!"

Ron, gripping Junior by the collar and holding his raised fist back by the wrist, struggled to get free. "If I told you, you'd be really embarrassed!"

"I do not care, I must know!" he shot back. "This is my reputation as a professional on the line!"

The Green Hunterborg's hand grabbing Junior by the back of his shirt and pulling him back stopped him. Held off the ground, and realizing it was one of the armored warriors holding him, Junior looked at him in distress and immediately drew his hands close to his body nervously.

"You should be more concerned about your career as a professional, my guy," Hunterborg said.

Ron sighed in relief to see the Hunterborg there. "Oh man, thanks. I don't like getting punched."

An instant later Junior was thrown to the pool deck at Mabel's feet as the Red Striker AV landed, and both Strikerborg and Stingerborg dismounted from their respective vehicles. Sitting up, Junior looked up at Mabel, then stared at Hunterborg, Ron (with Rufus on his shoulder) Marco, Star, Jackie, and Kim.

He closed his eyes and bowed his head? "I am not so foolish that I do not know when I'm beaten."

Kim hummed in surprise. "Oh?"

"Wow, throwing the towel just like that?" Ron asked.

Junior looked up at him. "Yes, I do not have powers and there are more of you than me. I know my odds, and they are nil."

At that moment, Shego grasped her second wind, and leaped into an uppercut that lifted Stingerborg off his feet and onto his back in surprise. Kicking off the horns of his AV, she leaped back at Strikerborg, surging all of her power to her feet so she could flying roundhouse kick Strikerborg away from her as well.

"But I do have powers, and I don't care how many you are!" She declared. "My odds are looking amazing!"

And like her words had revived him from a watery grave, Kombat Knat exploded from the water directly behind Mabel, coming up and dropping towards her with his maw wide open–and every intention to clamp his teeth down upon her head as she turned and look back up at the monster in surprise.

Her head and shoulders were almost completely in Kombat Knat's jaws, when they slammed shut.

= - = 7-5 = - =​

Next time, the penultimate chapter of Volume 7!

 

[The Ero-Sennin]

In the gallows or the ghetto, in the town or the meadow. In the billows, even over the sun, every end of a time is another begun.

= - = 7-6 = - =

|The Ruler of Everything|​

"Aw man, aw man…!"

Noxic was in distress, seeing not only Jara but Typhus too looking absolutely devastated as they dragged themselves into his nearly complete workshop. The facility, built around a large beehive like structure at its center, was surrounded by several large clouds of metallic wasps, and the actual structures of the facility were being constructed by teams of several Scabs.

"What the heck happened to you guys?! Did the job Vexor gave you go bad?!"

Jara, holding her hand over the broken section of her mask, shook her head. "I do not want to talk about it. Fix my mask."

Noxic recoiled from them. "YOUR MASK BROKE?!"

Typhus nodded. "Yeah, that blue Beetle brat…"

Jara turned to let her mask glower at him.

He quickly changed the subject. "But even worse, Kombat Knat betrayed me."

And now Noxic was just confused. "Typhus, your creations are like your kids, ain't they? Don't they love you?"

Typhus growled. "I thought he did… but then he met a girl who got him all messed up."

Noxic threw his hands up. "Of course. It would be a woman that'll get a guy thinking crazy!"

He stopped. "No offense, Jara."

"Some taken."

He continued. "But still! Can't you just turn him off, or yank his chain, or anything?!"

Typhus looked down. "After Kamaza, I made sure to never make another monster that just blindly follows orders. Something that obedient and unthinking only causes trouble, baby."

His powerful hands tightened into fists. "I just didn't expect Kombat Knat to just drop everything and run off after that human. He went after her like a moth to a lamp."

Jara spoke up. "That energy that woman radiated."

Typhus mulled over it. "You think that's it? She really was a bug zapper, huh?"

Noxic scratched his metal head, pondering. "Geez, that's unlucky. The one time you need a creepy bug monster, and he gets led off by a bright light."

He pounded his fist into his palm. "Hey, why don't we try to get him back?"

After a few moments of pondering going out there again and thinking about how defiant Kombat Knat was to him… Typhus raised his head. "Yannow what? At the end of the day, there are lots of things worth dying for, and a whole lot of them are better than being under Vexor's thumb."

A long silence fell as the three Magnavore commanders let Typhus' realization sink in.

With that to consider, Noxic withdrew his suggestion. "Yeah, you're right."

Even Jara, as she removed her mask with her back to them and held it out for Noxic to take, agreed. "May Kombat Knat find his destiny, free of Vexor…"

Typhus nodded in agreement. "Yeah, bathed in radiance, baby."

@@@@@​

Misao heard the click of the necklace and blinked in surprise. She was no longer in the Vanderhoffs' living room. She was suddenly adrift in an endless, star-filled void, far away from any celestial body but surrounded by them in every direction and a haunting ethereal light not-unlike the Aurora Borealis of the northern reaches of the world.

"Wo bin ich?" She asked aloud, her voice echoing only in her head. "Was ist das?"

Despite the infinite expanse, she cannot help but feel she is not alone in this emptiness. Realizing her hands and feet were free, she flailed around, and turned in place.

"Ist hier jemand?!"

She stopped, and gasped.

Looking over her was an impossibly sized figure, a giant that took up most of the void in front of her. It was solid black, blocking out the stars behind it, and outlined in the aurora. As she adjusted to comprehend its scale, Misao's eyes widened when she realized that it was humanoid and shaped like a woman. The long-haired feminine figure's only other feature besides its size, were two piercing eyes that glowed a vibrant green as they stared down at her.

Looking to her right, Misao gasped and found a second figure, this time that of a man. He too looked down at her, his eyes a piercing blue. However, the light that outlined him was whiter and only the edges swirled with color. As she began to turn, she realized she was surrounded by more of the figures.

A wolf outlined in red, as its white eyes seemed to cast contempt upon her.

A man with a blue outline, sharing the green eyes of the first figure, his wild hair barely tamed in a ponytail.

A younger-shaped figure, with a light-yellow outline, and softer green eyes.

Another younger figure with straight cut long hair, their outline a gentle pink but eyes glowing yellow.

A final violet outlined female figure, with eyes that were a lighter shade of blue than the others, almost icy.

Misao turned in place, looking at them all, as tears began to fill her eyes and flow down her cheeks. "I'm sorry… I'm… I'm so sorry…"

She stopped and looked up at the first figure. "I… I don't… I… no… I can't do it again."

Curling forward, Misao began to sob. "I can't do it anymore. Please… let me give up."

"No."

Misao stopped her whimpering when she heard her own voice. She looked back, and she was staring at herself, bathed head to toe in a silvery light, and her hair a radiant alabaster. Her glowing copy outstretched her hand to her, palm outstretched for her to take it.

Immediately, Misao rebuked her. "No?! NO?! After everything you want to keep going and subject us–subject them to… we're just going to do this again?!"

Her twin nodded. "Yes. Because we love them."

Misao began to cry again.

"Who does this to the people they love…?"

And just as quickly as she spoke, she was rebuked.

"We have no choice!"

Those words gave Misao pause.

Her twin in silver and white continued. "We can't stop. We can't give up. We can't go back…"

Misao knew what she was going to say, even as she didn't know why she knew.

"… We can only go forward."

She looked at her own outstretched hand, beckoning her. Raising her head, looking up and around at the silent monolithic figures in the darkness, and then over her shoulder at the first one. She felt her burst of uncertainty and fear melt away and a resolve surge to take its place.

Why she felt these emotions, why she was so afraid before and so determined now… she didn't know… but she understood that taking the hand outstretched to her would give her the clarity she desired, and the direction to place this burning in her chest.

As the last of her tears dried, Misao reached out and took her twin's hand. The other Misao smiled,and nodded to her.

"Say it."

Words that Misao'd never heard before burst to the front of her thoughts, words that if she spoke, she knew she could never take back.

She didn't care.

"Tetractys Grammaton."

The last thing anyone had seen was Kombat Knat's jaws close like a bear trap on Mabel's head.

Then in the next instant, the monster was stumbling forward like a drunk stuck deep in a bottle.

Mabel was gone.

Not lifeless in his jaws, not headless on the ground. She had simply vanished.

After regaining his footing, a very confused Kombat Knat opened his jaws, but nothing came spilling out. "Ah?"

Marco turned to Hunterborg, relieved. "Super Speed is awesome."

Hunterborg was looking around, and then turned to Marco, Jackie, and Star. "… That wasn't me…"

Ron pointed past him. "Uhh… guys?"

Everyone looked in the direction direction he pointed and found Mabel alive and on the other end of the pool. She was alive and intact, and looking up at Misao.

"… Wow…"

The smaller girl stood, wearing from neck to toe a body fitting suit glowing as if it were made of white light with fitted crome plates on her arms, legs, and hips that sparkled and gleamed from the light the suit generated. From her back a pair of large, segmented, and telescoping protrusions extended upward, a full head taller than her, before curving downward to stop at just above her feet. A hazy light radiated from these wing-like protrusions–and on closer inspection, the source appeared to be transparent feathers made of glass.

Misao stared back down at Mabel, relieved that she was okay, then turned towards Kombat Knat.

"Oh my gosh," Star whispered. "That's so cool."

Marco was understandably concerned. "Yeah, but what is it, and why is she wearing it?"

Star stepped forward, to reach out and touch it. "I wanna touch–"

Jackie and Marco grabbed her, with the former calling out. "Careful!"

Ron turned to look at Junior. "Hey! What did you put on her?!"

Junior, still staring at Misao, just shook his head. "… I do not know, but I am glad I did."

Kim, much more cautiously, moved towards Misao. "Hey, um… whatever that is, I think you need to take it off."

Hunterborg, concerned, was already in communication with Dipper. "Hey, we got a problem."

Over at the Beetle Battle Base, Dipper and Janna looked up at the whited-out screens that had been showing them the battle and recording various sensor data.

"… Yeah," Dipper said, "I think you do."

Evading both the Strikerborg and Stingerborg, Shego landed back on the pool deck and stopped when she saw Misao and her light show of an armor. "What the heck is this?"

She looked towards Kombat Knat. "Hey! Don't just stand there looking gruesome, we need to go!"

The light that had been in front of her, was now behind her, and Shego turned to see Misao standing on the railing that separated the pool deck and the backyard. She was staring directly at her, the black and blue dye that colored her hair draining away slowly, leaving it white at the roots.

Down in the backyard, Stingerborg and Strikerborg both gave a start at how abruptly Misao appeared.

"Misao…?" Jo asked behind her armor.

Drew felt weird as he looked at her, like all his senses were jumbled up and being twisted in strange ways when his telekinesis came in contact with her. "… What's going on?"

Shego, after a moment of surprise, smirked and lunged forward to swing an energy laden blow at Misao. In an instant she was within arm's reach, but right as her hand reached Misao, the girl was suddenly just beyond it, even the trail of her energy not coming close.

The villainess gawped in surprise, but undeterred moved forward and swung at Misao again, this time with a left. Misao was again out of her reach.

Now she was confused. She hadn't seen the girl move to defend herself or evade. "How are you…?"

She quickly lashed out again, this time with a kick, but again it fell short of Misao.

It was when she drew her leg back, that Shego noticed two things that made her blood run cold.

First. Misao had not moved from the spot she had first appeared in.

Second. Shego had not moved from the spot she'd attacked Misao from.

Quickly, Shego looked Misao over, trying to figure out what was going on–and right away her eyes locked onto the dye evaporating from her hair, leaving white in its wake. It was several inches longer, but still moving at the same slow rate she had first noticed.

Shego blanched. "… Wait…"

With ferocity she attacked, and once more her attacks failed to reach Misao. Again, Misao did not move, and neither did Shego.

Kim tilted her head to the side as she watched Shego fight in place, swinging at Misao like she'd developed a very acute case of near-sightedness. "… Shego…?"

Marco and Jackie were similarly stumped by the villain's sudden passion for shadow boxing.

"Now I am even more confused," Marco admitted.

Panting heavily as she stopped, Shego focused her attention on Misao's hair. More of it was white than it should've been in the few moments she attacked her, but it was still changing at the same rate.

What was happening became starkly clear to Shego.

With a knowing look, Misao nodded. "Give up."

Shego put her hands up. "I surrender."

Kombat Knat, seeing his radiance in danger, ground his teeth together. The hateful light coming from the girl, trying to pull him from his radiance, it would not stand. He would not allow it.

Her glow would not be outshone by another, he would die bathed in her light.

"YOU WILL NOT OUTSHINE MY RADIANCE!"

Misao turned her attention to Kombat Knat as he yelled his war cry and lunged towards her. Her scowl deepened into a glower, as she looked at his widely-opened maw and what those teeth had threatened just a moment ago.

The wings of the armor began to glow brighter, as Kombat Knat neared.

And in the next instant, a halo of light appeared above the town of Echo Creek, briefly lighting the night sky.

@@@@@​

At the Beetle Battle Base, a power surge raced through the underground facility, but its sturdy magical construction weathered the surge, and everything returned to normal–even Dipper and Janna's view of the battlefield.

Dipper quickly contacted whoever he could. "Hey! You guys all right over there?"

Stingerborg answered first. "Yeah, we're okay, but… Kombat Knat is gone."

"Wait, gone? Did he shrink?"

"No," Stingerborg answered, "He's just not here."

Strikerborg scanned the area. "He didn't shrink down, he just vanished."

Lowering her guard after Kombat Knat blinked out of existence, Kim looked around. "What happened to the creepy bug monster?"

"You got me, but if he's gone, he's gone," Marco said before calling to Misao. "Uhh… Misao? Are you okay?"

"And what happened to your hair?!" Star asked.

Misao brought up a few strands and examined them. Her hair, from root to tip, was completely white.

"Yeah, dude, what… was that? What is that?" Jackie asked as the two of them carefully approached her.

Star stayed behind, silent, and wide-eyed.

Mabel walked past Shego, who still had her hands up, and walked over to Misao. "Are you okay…?"

Turning to her, Misao beamed, and the armor just dissolved away, leaving her in her clothes she'd been wearing prior. Then she leaped into Mabel's arms joyfully.

"Mein liebe!"

Mabel sagged in relief and cuddled Misao close. "Oh good, I was worried for a second. Suddenly you had armor, and Shego was shadowboxing you, then that monster just disappeared and I'm like whaaaaaaaa?"

Burying her face in her chest, Misao just shook her head. "It's… okay. It's so very okay… I am exhausted… and I will explain after I've slept for the next two hundred years."

She hugged Mabel tighter, and the taller girl began to stroke her now white hair.

"Okay… just stay here where it's safe."

"I don't think I've ever felt safer."

Mabel giggled and nuzzled the top of her head.

Star, like a blur, ran up to and hugged them both. "Challenge accepted!"

Without hesitation, Mabel and Misao welcomed her into their embrace, with Misao agreeing. "Ja, thank you so much, Star. You fought so bravely."

Jackie joined the hug, followed by Marco, and Misao sniffled. "You did all this for me… it's almost too much."

Strikerborg, made it onto the deck with Stingerborg and walked over to the group with Hunterborg–but didn't make the hug awkward with their heavy armor.

"Of course, we did it for you," Strikerborg said. "You're our friend."

Stingerborg agreed. "The first time we fought the Magnavores, we did it to protect you. I'll never forget that, and neither should you."

Hunterborg lightly punched Stingerborg's shoulder as he chimed in. "Exactly, not only are we protecting Echo Creek and the world, but we're also looking out for each other, too."

Shego, still not resisting, just patiently allowed Kim to cuff her hands together with a pair of heavy, hand-encasing shackles that sent a disruptive surge of energy through her and nullified her powers. She wasn't even paying attention to Kim, just staring at the two hugging friends.

"So…?" Kim asked.

"So what?" Shego asked.

"Why suddenly so agreeable?"

Shego finally paid her a glance, and smirked. "If you have to ask, I'll never tell."

Kim rolled her eyes. "Figures."

Junior called to his victorious adversaries. "I must know. How did you track me so fast? I was certain I would have a long lead on you."

Mabel giggled, Misao joining her. Looking over at the two, then to Star, Jackie began chuckling. Star, bringing a hand to her mouth likewise started snickering. Kim's smirk broadened like she knew what was going on, too.

Marco looked back and forth between the giggling girls. "What… what did you do?"

Strikerborg broke into a caustic laugh.

Stingerborg was as lost as Marco. "Uhh…?"

"What's so funny?" Ron asked.

Behind the Hunterborg mask, Roland's eyes rolled. "… You didn't…"

"We had a tracking device on her!" Mabel revealed.

Junior stared at Mabel, blinking. "I checked her for devices, I removed all of them!"

"And you were thorough," Misao commended. "You missed a secret compartment, however."

With that, Mabel reached into the cleavage created by Misao's shirt, and pulled out her cell phone. "Victoria's Secret compartment."

Junior's mouth fell agape, as he stared at Mabel's phone, then at Misao's chest, then abruptly at Mabel's face.

"I never would've looked there."

The girls all burst into loud peals of laughter. Marco, his face red, averted his eyes from Misao and Mabel while Star gently petted him atop his head in consolation. Ron rolled his eyes, as the girls all enjoyed their inside joke.

Jackie smirked at Misao. "I'm surprised one of us didn't hide in there to jump out and surprise them."

Misao laughed even harder. "I bet I could hide a whole AV, ja?"

"Oh my gosh!" Mabel cried out, all but in tears.

Junior, grimacing, just shook his head. "Mierda…"

Shego, however, was surprisingly forgiving of Junior's screw up. "Hey, it's okay. You're not that guy, SSJ."

Junior looked over at her. "Oh?"

"You never would've looked there, and I'd have taken your hand off if you reached in. Learn from your mistakes and do better. Maybe have an EMP device set up to fry any electronics…"

"Or a faraday cage?" Junior suggested.

Shego brightened. "Yeah, perfect. A little pricey, but they pay for themselves quick."

"HEY!"

Everyone stopped and looked back to see Trip–finally untied by Dudley–stumble out onto his patio. He looked around at the damage done to his property, and at those responsible.

"WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK?!" He held his hands towards his damaged fire pit, then towards the pool deck, then to his chewed-up lawn riddled with wrecked Unmanned Gears and Beetleborg AVs.

"YOU TRASHED MY HOUSE!"

Marco answered quickly. "And?"

Trip focused all of his hatred on Marco. "Oh no… don't you fucking start."

In Dipper's stead, Marco would clap back with all his might. "No need to worry, we're done."

He began to hyperventilate. "You… you…"

Staring at the group who invaded his home, shaking, tears began to well in his eyes before he erupted.

"… WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU PEOPLE?!"

He pointed back and forth between them. "You… whatever you want… you just do whatever the FUCK you want, and you act like there are no consequences for you! You're fucking POOR! You're fucking LOSERS!"

Ron recognized him. "Hey, that's the kid Dipper punched in that video."

Marco gave Ron a sidelong look. "Would you believe that he is still angry over that?"

"It's why we're even here," Stingerborg lamented.

Trip screeched. "DON'T TALK LIKE I'M NOT HERE! DOES IT EVEN FUCKING MATTER THAT I CAN HAVE YOU ALL KILLED IN AN INSTANT?! YOUR FAMILIES?! EVERYONE YOU KNOW?!"

Kim turned to the others. "What is wrong with him?"

Strikerborg answered. "He's well along in a mental breakdown."

Star piped in. "It really is like Jeremy Birnbaum…"

He slammed his hands onto his chest. "I'M TRIP VANDERHOFF, MOTHERFUCKERS! I'M A FUCKING MILLIONAIRE! OUR FAMILY OWNS HALF THIS TOWN! I OWN HOUSES IN LAS VEGAS! IN BRAZIL! IN FUCKING WASHINGTON DC! MY DAD COULD GO TO THE WHITE HOUSE AND HAVE YOU ALL LABELED AS TERRORISTS!"

Mabel walked over to him.

"THE ONLY REASON YOU EVEN GET TO KNOW ME IS BECAUSE I CAME TO YOUR POOR ASS PUBLIC SCHOOL SO YOU COULD SEE WHAT A REAL HUMAN BEING LOOKS LIKE!"

He stopped for a moment, breathing heavily, sweat and tears pouring down his face, before he shrieked at Mabel.

"YOU'RE NOTHING! YOU'RE NO ONE! YOU WILL NEVER HAVE ANYTHING I HAVE BUT YOU KEEP ACTING LIKE YOU'RE FUCKING PEO–"

Taking him by the shoulder, she punched Trip in the stomach, and the boy collapsed to the ground, squealing and bawling like a horse with a broken leg.

She stared down at him as he curled up into a sobbing ball and shook her head. "It's about time you stopped trippin'."

With that she turned to walk back over but stopped when she saw Van standing in the doorway, hesitantly.

Extending her hand, Mabel gestured to him. "Do you want any?"

Van just shook his head no.

Mabel smiled, and walked back over to the group. "I thought so."

"This is the guy who bullied me since I met him," Stingerborg said quietly as Trip sobbed and whimpered.

Ron looked at the Blue armored hero. "What does someone have to do to have a kid turn out like this?"

Jackie answered him. "Everything wrong."

Marco nodded in agreement.

Star sighed. "I don't think he's ever been hugged."

Stingerborg cut deeper than his blade ever could. "Look at that guy, and tell me with a straight face there was ever anyone who wanted to?"

As Misao embraced Mabel again, the taller girl did give Trip a quick look back, then just shook her head no.

The sound of cars pulling into the Vanderhoffs' driveway caught everyone's attention. A dark SUV followed by a sedan, and another dark SUV pulled in and parked in plain view of the pool. From the two SUVs emerged a half-dozen men in black not unlike Brittney's guard detail for the dance–armed with submachine guns and wearing dark sunglasses at night. Two more such men exited the front of the sedan, but from the back emerged two women.

As the men with guns spread out and began to secure the premises, the two women walked through the hole in the wall the Blue Stinger AV made and past the wrecked Fenrir to make their way up onto the deck. Coming to a stop in front of the group of teenagers and the captured villains, the smaller woman–barely taller than Misao–stepped forward.

On closer inspection, everyone realized she was identical to Misao in almost every way, apart from being slenderly built as Star or Kim and having short black hair and dark eyes. Looking back and forth between the group, she nodded in greeting.

"So… you are the people who have been protecting Misao," she said.

Trip looked up at the woman, while Van blanched and took several steps back. The kids all looked at one another and back to her as she continued.

"Before anything else, please…"

The woman bowed deeply to them.

"From the bottom of my heart, thank you for everything that you've done. Without asking and without reward, you placed yourself at great risk to take care of her, and I do not think enough gratitude exists for that."

She stood upright and introduced herself. "My name is Momiji Hyuuga, and I am her mother."

"Hello, Mama," Misao greeted.

Momiji cast a small smile at her. To the woman who accompanied Momiji, Misao smiled a little bigger.

"And hello, Miss Reiko."

The tall redheaded woman smiled back. "It's been a while."

Mabel replied. "Being here for Misao was a reward by itself!"

Star agreed. "Yeah, she's one of my besties~!"

A portal opened up on the edge of the pool, and through it Janna and Dipper appeared, the latter holding the Dimensional Scissors. Momiji and Reiko turned to the two, surprised at the arrival of the pair and the means they traveled.

Shego eyed the scissors with interest. "Now that's fancy."

Dipper shot a look in Shego's direction. "Isn't it, though?"

Momiji greeted them. "Hello, Dipper, Janna. That's almost everyone… where's your Grandfather?"

Hauling the Schwanzstucker over his shoulder with one hand, with Waddles trotting alongside him, Shermie arrived onto the pool deck and walked over to the group gathered by the fire pit. "Right here. Good to see you again, Maple! It's been what, 15 years? You look great."

Momiji's eyebrows rose. "And you look… alive, no offense. A man your age being in such… shape."

Marco gawked for a moment at Shermie just lugging around an anti-tank rifle like it was nothing, then spoke up. "Uhh… kind of an understatement."

Jackie whispered to Mabel. "… Is it okay if I think your grandfather looks kinda cool?"

Mabel remained cheerful. "I don't wanna answer that."

Star kept her questions to herself, while Misao and Kim both coughed in unison.

Luckily Waddles trotted up to Mabel's feet to change the subject. "Oh, look, it's my little man!"

Snorting in greeting, Waddles gracelessly stood up on his hindlegs to be picked up. Before Mabel could, Misao immediately scooped him up and hugged him close.

Momiji stared at Waddles, surprised. "… Ah… a pig?"

"His name is Waddles," Mabel said as she patted his side. "And he's an angel."

Staring at her daughter cuddling him, a look of envy appeared on the woman's face, before she quickly regained her composure and cleared her throat.

"Right, let's get to the matter at hand…" She looked back and forth among the group. "Given everything I've learned to this point, I would like to extend mine and Hyuuga Heavy Industries' assistance in dealing with the Magnavores."

Dipper nodded. "That would be helpful."

Hunterborg then spoke up. "Okay, but how much help are we talking here?"

Shermie looked at the old rifle over his shoulder. "Given that one of these guys was shrugging off AP rounds from ol' Schwanztucker here? I think whatever I have in storage might not cut it."

"You're in luck, we have a considerable arsenal at our disposal. Even with our previous commitments, we can set something aside as needed," Momiji assured them.

Stingerborg asked. "How overt are you going to be? We'd like to keep the Magnavores focused on us and not attacking anyone else."

"We can do discreet," Momiji answered, "I'll even introduce you to a special liaison for our company who's based in Reseda."

As the Beetleborgs agreed, Dipper asked. "We're starting to get more visible. There isn't something you can do about that, too, is there?"

Janna agreed. "Yeah, you're a near-trillion dollar corporation with hands in a lot of places. How about flexing some of that muscle for the good of mankind?"

Momiji nodded. "We'll do what we can, but you guys will need to show your faces less in front of a lot of cameras so we can hash out a narrative that keeps you at the back of people's minds."

Kim spoke. "If you like, I can say something to the press about all of this."

Turning to Kim, Momiji lit up. "Yes, Miss Possible?"

Ron leaned over. "And Ron, Ron Stoppable, Miss Hyuuga."

"A pleasure."

As everyone's attention turned to Kim, she explained. "The Magnavores are just cosplay villains… and you guys are cosplay heroes taking care of them."

"Oh yeah!" Star said, before she turned to Shego. "You said that cosplay villains are pretty cringe, right?"

"Extremely," Shego replied.

Junior had to agree. "It is awkward whenever a supervillain or superhero appears dressed up as someone fictional."

Shego continued. "It's especially weird when they expect you to play along–like this is a LARP or something."

Strikerborg shivered. "Eugh, just hearing you describe it like that makes me cringe."

Turning to Mabel, Shermie asked. "I'm not too caught up on this new lingo, how bad is this 'cringe', girlchik?"

Mabel sighed explosively. "It is the worst, Sherpa. When you're cringe, you're causing people to have secondhand embarrassment for you. You never want to be cringe, you want to be based."

"And that's no problem for you," Misao added. "You are very based, Sherpa."

"Not too sure what that one is either, but if you gals think it's swell, then I am happy to be the basest guy around. It's like hip, right?"

"No," Misao said, cringing a little.

Mabel gave her Sherpa a hard look. "We'll sort it out after we finish establishing the new status quo."

"Avoiding the subject of based vs. cringe," Kim said.

"Which in of itself is kind of cringe," Strikerborg chirped.

Kim gave Strikerborg a sharp look not-unlike Mabel's to Shermie. "Most people will just write off the cosplay fights as a bunch of nerds slap-fighting, and not actually a struggle for the fate of existence."

Shego did a double take. "Hold-up–"

Curtly Momiji nodded to a guard. "Gag her."

One of the bodyguards immediately slapped a wad of very sticky tape over Shego's lips. Indignantly and impotently, she bristled.

Junior wisely stayed quiet.

Stingerborg really liked the sound of this arrangement. "That's actually perfect. We don't want anyone to come anywhere near this. So, thank you, Kim, Miss Hyuuga."

"It's no big," Kim replied. "Actually, when I first heard about you guys and the Magnavores, I really thought it was just a nerd fight."

"You're were barely even trending anywhere until that throwdown with Typhus," Ron said.

Dipper's gaze lingered on Shego and Junior, before he moved on. "That takes care of that. Now, about our other problem."

As he said this, he looked over at Trip and Van. They, with Dudley, were surrounded by several of Momiji's men. Looking back at the young man, she nodded. "Quite."

Trip stared at Momiji as she walked towards them, slowly shaking his head. Consecutive waves of the complete and total fear that he'd suppressed with bravado and the assurance of his wealth and supremacy in Echo Creek crashed over him with every step the woman took.

His eyes quickly darted to Dudley and his brother. The old butler stood straight, without a care in the world, while his brother wasn't even looking at Momiji or anyone, just down at his feet with an expression that resembled almost a kind of relief–or acceptance of what was about to happen.

Turning his attention back to Momiji, he quickly spoke. "Please, it was… it was all a joke… a prank, right? We–"

"No," Momiji said sharply, cutting him off. "My daughter cloned your brother's phone. I've read every message you and your brother sent back and forth to the people you were hiring to torment 'Pine Tree', his sister, and 'the fat foreign chick.'"

Trip blanched and shrank away from her.

"Though we have a distant and complicated relationship, Misao is still my daughter, and I love and cherish her deeply," Momiji informed the brothers. "In fact, the main reason we have such an arrangement, is because my greatest fear is that my business and reputation will cause people who wish me harm to harm her."

Despite being a full head shorter than Van, she seemed to loom over both brothers in presence. "It has happened before, and the people who attempted did not live to regret it."

Van visibly flinched, while Trip whimpered and shut his eyes tightly in terror.

"Sadly, for you, you will."

Trip's eyes opened. "… What?"

Momiji nodded slowly.

"Here's what's going to happen: Your father, Thaddeus Vanderhoff II is going to wake up in his hotel and find that his credit cards have been canceled, his bank accounts emptied and closed, his business shut down and sold, and all of his personal property sold off."

Trip collapsed onto his backside. "… What?"

Mabel whispered to Dipper. "… Thaddeus?"

Dipper whispered back. "I think that's worse than mine…"

"Everything he owns–and by extension everything you own–is now property of several shell companies owned by Hyuuga Heavy Industries that will soon vanish into the aether themselves when their purpose is complete. The property that Zoom Comics currently occupies, for example, has already been paid off and signed over to Nano Williams. The trust funds with your respective names for them, have been similarly signed off on and the money dumped into numerous charities all in yours and your father's names."

She opened her hand to them. "That is not all. As I speak, efforts are being completed to remove you from pertinent legal documents relative to the state of California and the United States of America. You are penniless, landless, and by the sunrise you will be nameless."

Van, still looking down, murmured. "… Even our names…"

Trip's glasses slipped from his nose, as the totality of what he'd been told sank in. "… Why?"

Momiji looked down her nose at him.

"Because no one is above facing the consequences for their actions."

She nodded to the men standing guard. "Bag them and take them up north. I can't bear the sight of them."

Trip shrieked in panic. "NO, WAIT–!"

Whatever plea he tried to offer ended with a black bag brought down over his head. Viciously he began to struggle, kicking and lunging to get out of the hands of the guards that hauled him up to his feet.

As if oblivious to his brother's struggles, Van just gave Dipper, Mabel, and Misao a long and resigned look.

All three met it, but not even Mabel returned any sympathy in her gaze.

Accepting that, Van Vanderhoff closed his eyes and quietly let the bag fall over his head. He did not fight back, as he turned and walked with the guards leading him away.

Marco had words for what he'd just seen. "That's more intense than I'd expected that to go."

Janna nudged him. "Welcome to the billionaires club, Marco."

Star agreed. "Yeah, that's about right for what to expect at this level of power and influence."

In a stage whisper she added. "You rarely see it used for good."

With that in mind, Marco replied. "That's horrifying."

Dipper turned to him. "Right?!"

No one could see it Drew grinning ear to ear as he watched Trip and Van get stuffed into the back of one of the SUVs.

He had half a mind to ask Momiji if they could swing by and pick up his father, too.

As if Jo could hear his thoughts, she turned to look at his brother and directly contacted him so no one else could hear. "He deserves so much worse than to simply disappear."

Pausing, Drew quietly agreed.

Behind his helmet, all thoughts towards the Vanderhoffs had vanished from Roland's head altogether. More than having to pay a cent of rent to them, they now owned the entire building. He quickly contacted Jo and Drew.

"This is amazing! Nano's been saving up money to buy the building for years! Now she can put it towards expanding the store!"

Jo gasped at the implication. "Oh my gosh, Zoom's gonna be bigger and better than ever!"

With a curt nod towards the fate of the brothers, Shermie walked over and ruffled up Mabel and Dipper's respective hair. "Honestly, it's better than what I woulda done to them. Nobody messes with my grandkids."

A scary gleam filled Shermie's glasses, obscuring his eyes. "Nobody."

Jackie, still looking at the massive gun, nodded. "Yeah, I'm actually surprised you didn't make their heads explode with that thing when you had the shot."

The gleam was still there as Shermie whispered back. "What makes you think I wasn't tempted?"

Ron turned to Kim. "Uh KP, is letting them do this okay? I think this is way outside of our general moral compass."

Rocking her head from side to side, Kim shrugged her shoulders. "The way I see it; they so weren't going to stop until somebody died. If this is how they wanna deal with it, then… okay?"

"Kim, that's not very lawful good."

Kim wagged her hand. "Neutral good… lawful neutral…?"

Misao turned her attention to Ron. "If someone messed with your friend like that, what would you do?"

Ron opened his mouth to answer, and the words almost spilled out. "I would have a lengthy discussion about trying to hurt someone I cared about. I'm more of a lover, than a fighter–or whatever THAT was."

The ominous presence permeating Shermie vanished as he chuckled. "I just hope you never have to worry about something happening to you and your paramour here."

Immediately both held up their hands. "Whoa, we are not together!"

Kim gestured to Ron. "We're best friends…"

Ron finished. "… But we've never been like that, no. As a matter of fact, she's not here, but I have a girlfriend. And KP's got her own boyfriend."

The other kids stared in surprise at Kim and Ron.

They both stared back.

"What?" Kim asked.

Jackie looked stricken. "… My ship…"

Mabel pouted at Ron, sniffling. "You're not single…?"

Hunterborg hung his head. "Damn, that's what they meant by never meet your heroes."

Dipper gingerly put it forward to the human members of Team Possible. "Honestly? We all kinda thought that you were… um…"

Kim recoiled. "Are any of you?"

Marco and Star raised their hands. "Yeah, us."

The only person in the group to look surprised was Dipper.

Ron gestured to them. "See? That makes sense."

Kim could not accept that. "What? When?!"

She looked between Marco and Jackie. "What about Jarco?!"

Star gasped in excitement. "Ohmygoshshewatchesmyvlog."

Junior piped up. "It's very good. Please update it more?"

Jackie was similarly starstruck. "Oh my gosh, Kim Possible ships me with Marco."

She turned and looked at Marco and Star. "… OT3?"

Marco paled. "Stop playing!"

"Who said anything about playing?" Janna suggested.

Pointing at her, Marco quickly answered. "By way of you implying anything as real, I know it to be a lie!"

Janna chuckled mischievously; Jackie shot a muted glare at her.

Star, however, looked rather thoughtful.

Dipper looked at the house. "So what happens now?"

Momiji looked back at the Vanderhoffs' home. "I've already got people on standby to remove the personal effects and repossess all vehicles. Otherwise, the house is free to whomever wants it, HHI will foot the expenses of maintaining it."

Thinking of Hillhurst, Dipper agreed. "We've already got one fixer-upper to deal with, but… we'll definitely take it. We can use it as a safehouse–someplace to disappear off to if any of our homes or Hillhurst becomes too hot."

Momiji brightened. "Speaking of, would you like something done about that place, too?"

"No thanks," Stingerborg said. "The current residents are already tired of us."

Jackie chimed in. "Oh no, they're cool, now."

"They are?" Drew asked, as Marco rolled his eyes.

"Believe it or not, Jackie cut a deal with them," he said. "They promised they won't try to kill us as long as she remains their 'connection.'"

A chorus of "Ohhs" resounded, and Marco blanched.

"Wait, does everybody know about the weed?" He asked the others.

Hunterborg nodded. "Yeah, bruh, her family owns the only dispensary in Echo Creek. My parents buy from them all the time."

"Yeah," Strikerborg said.

"You didn't know?" Stingerborg asked him in turn.

"… Not until Saturday," Marco admitted.

Misao chimed in. "I have yet to partake, but Sherman Farm is her distributor, so I know it's good."

Momiji let out a gentle laugh. "Well, hopefully now you'll be able to do so without worrying too much about anyone running off with you."

That Misao agreed. "Oh, Mama, I have wanted to stream so much. My set up is already reassembled, but it is collecting dust at the house."

Walking up to her, Momiji embraced her daughter. "Well, I won't keep you from your new home any longer. There is still much to be done here, and I need to get this back to HHI."

As she pulled back, she held the necklace Señor Senior Junior placed on her.

Looking at the necklace, Mabel spoke up. "That thing that Señor Senior Junior put on her, what is it?"

Ron was curious as well. "… And why did it have a super cool armor in it?"

Kim grew curious. "Is it something like Project Centurion? Why did he put it on her?"

Momiji looked at the necklace, and then at the group. "To answer what it is, this is a weapon called Type-0. My company is developing it for dealing with things like the Magnavores… and worse. As for why he put it on her…?"

Momiji turned to Junior, who looked away. Shego went stiff and stared at Junior wide-eyed.

"I did not know what it would do," he admitted, "I put it on her to find out what exactly what the weapon was… I did not realize it could do that."

Shego began yelling a few choice things that everyone present was happy to not understand.

For Kim, it was music to her ears and a perfect note to end the night on. "Ms. Hyuuga is onto something, we should get out of here before the police show up."

Dipper tossed the Dimensional Scissors to Marco. "Misao, Mabel, and I will head home with Grandpa, then."

Stingerborg turned and headed over to his AV. "We'll take the AVs back to the Beetle Battle Base and meet up with you guys tomorrow."

"Sounds good, see you then," Dipper replied.

Shermie tugged on his bowtie and let it snap back into place. "I'd be honored to give Team Possible a ride in the Sherman-mobile if you kids need a lift."

Ron happily accepted. "I'm fine with that. No offense but traveling through magical dimensional portals doesn't sit well with me."

"Oh no, it's okay," Marco said, "It takes a little getting used to… but it's way better than Star's spell to return home."

Star flinched, remembering that spell. "Yeah… I'm still sorry about that."

Kim could not resist the allure of the magic portal. "I dunno, I kinda want to try the magical portal."

Ron ushered her on. "C'mon, KP, get in the car."

Soon the AVs were on their way out, heading down the hill. Star, Marco, Janna, and Jackie bade their farewells before heading through the portal. As Shego and Junior were carted off into the second black SUV, the Pines and Misao climbed into Shermie's car and on their way back home.

Watching Shermie's white SUV pull out of sight, Reiko looked down at Momiji. "So… now that she's used it, do you suppose she's awakened?"

"I could tell the moment we spoke to one another."

Momiji shut her eyes and let a smile grace her lips. "I don't think this has happened before, where she's been with people like this… I hope this is a good sign."

= - = 7-6 = - =​

You understand mechanical hands are the ruler of everything. The ruler of everything.

I'm the ruler of everything in the end...

 

[The Ero-Sennin]

We've made it to the end of the run. Thanks all who have for reading this story of mine and leave a like and comment.

= - = 7-7 = - =

|Questions and Answers|​

By sunrise, a construction crew had descended upon the former Vanderhoff residence–much to the curiosity of the young man with a walking stick who stepped up to the gate being replaced. Staring quietly at the construction workers installing the new solid steel gate replacing the old fancy wrought iron gate that had been cut to pieces, the man responsible for the damage walked past the contractors and the parked Vanderhoff SUV.

Gabe glanced into the hole in the wall leading into the backyard on his trek, then hustled up to the smashed down door also in the process of being replaced. The carpenters fashioning a new doorway paid him no mind as he walked into the house and found it devoid of almost all furniture and equipment as renovators worked on transforming the home.

"The hell happened here…?" Gabe asked as he entered the living room and found Reiko speaking with the foreman in charge of the renovation.

"… We're not gutting the entire house, just make sure that everything that hasn't been marked for repossession is outside in the driveway by noon–that's when the first movers are coming."

"What about the truck?" The foreman said of the SUV.

Reiko noticed Gabe but kept talking to the foreman. "I've already contacted the dealership and a repo crew is on their way to pick it up, they should be here any moment, now."

The foreman noticed Gabe. "Hey, are you one of the temps we contracted?"

Gabe shook his head. "Nah, I'm a… I had prior business with the folks that live here."

Reiko's eyes lit with recognition, and she dismissed the foreman. "You can get back to it. I'll speak with the gentleman."

She walked over to him as the foreman headed out into the backyard through the still broken windows. "You said you had business with the former owners?"

Gabe's eyebrows rose. "Oh word, they skipped town?"

Eyeing him up and down, Reiko nodded. "That's right. Don't expect them to be in contact with you in the future; they moved far, far away."

His free hand came up to his chin and he rubbed it.

"Hmm… you wouldn't know what happened to 'em, would you?"

Reiko nodded. "Yes, as a matter of fact. When you had visited Mr. Pines and his friends Saturday, that whole group decided to put a permanent end to the conflict that you took part in."

Gabe was given pause.

"African American male, late teens, possibly even early twenties. Has a walking stick that in fact is a modified shirasaya, right?"

And Gabe's eyebrows rose even higher. Humming again, he glanced at his walking stick then back at the woman.

She raised her finger. "Going forward: most of the affected parties have decided to let your participation in the transgressions pass. You were a hired blade, so it's as personal as you want it to be."

"I notice you said most."

"Stay away from Marco Diaz, Jackie Lynn Thomas, and Star Butterfly." Reiko gestured to him. "In general, stay away from Echo Creek–unless you want to make yourself useful, of course."

That was good enough. "Nah, I'm good. Only reason I pulled up in this whole thing was to see who got that dog in 'em–and make some cash on the side doing it. Just a hired blade, right?"

Reiko nodded. "Is there anything else, or will you be leaving?"

"I'm movin', peace," Gabe said as he turned to head back out the door the way he came.

Watching him go, Reiko pulled out her phone and began sending a message to Misao.

"They will want to know that he's already on his feet again…"

As he stepped out of the house and to the garage, he noticed two men walking up to the SUV and speaking to a man in a black suit and sunglasses Gabe realized he hadn't noticed when he came in. Both men, African Americans like himself, were trying to look natural in the confrontation.

The slightly younger and shorter, but better built of the men–wearing a dark blue shirt over a white long sleeve, black jeans with tan boots, and having a painfully average haircut–addressed the guard. "Hey, we're from Premium Deluxe Motorsport? To pick up the Lincoln Navigator y'all are returning?"

The guard looked back and forth between the two men, as the one who spoke handed the folded-up papers. "Shit, we got the papers right here."

Looking at the documents, the guard nodded and pulled out the car's keyfob. "All yours, gentlemen. Drive safe."

Taking the keys, the young man unlocked the doors as the guard turned and walked up and away past Gabe to return to the house.

The taller and slightly thinner of the two, wearing a green shirt over a black sweater with the sleeves rolled up to proudly display numerous tattoos referencing affiliation to the Crips. "Man, they been putting down five grand a week on this bitch. Now they gettin' all they shit repoed."

The other young man climbed into the driver seat. "You remember them dumbasses when they came through. Their Dad didn't even look at the contract, he just signed that shit, and they were gone. They were not good with money."

His passenger seemed annoyed by that. "I ain't even see that commission, either."

"What commission? We're repo, not sales."

"Ya boy was the one who told 'em to grab the Navigator, they wanted the biggest ride in the shop."

The driver was exasperated as he started the engine. "Man, fuck you, a blind man coulda sold this shit to them fools."

"And he would've gotten a commission," his passenger emphasized before he looked out the window at the cleaning up and out of the home.

"Still, what you think happened?"

"In this town? Probably fucked around with the wrong motherfuckers and found out," the driver said as he put the SUV in drive and drove out of the open gate.

Gabe huffed in amusement as he headed for the same gate. He had places to be, and to the chagrin of that woman and his former adversaries… those places would be in Echo Creek for a while.

"Y'all don't know shit about the wrong motherfuckers…"

@@@@@​

Thanks to Star using her magic to repair the school after Shego's rampage and the monster fight, school was back in session at Echo Creek Academy without interruption. Quietly lamenting this, Heather drove into the student parking lot, where found a puzzling sight. Brittney stepped out of her G-Wagen, accompanied by Dudley–who looked at least fifteen years younger and absolutely pleased to hold open the door for her and Sabrina as they climbed out.

Parking her car a few spots from the G-Wagen, Heather climbed out and walked over to the two girls and the butler. "Hey Brittney, hey Sabrina… and Dudley?"

Dudley shut the door and greeted Heather with a tipping of his hat and a grandfatherly sparkle in his eye. "Good morning, Master Heather."

Brittney cut straight to the point. "Oh, those idiots cut him loose last night and my father hired him just this morning."

She turned to Dudley. "Thank you, Dudley, I'll call you if I need anything."

"Of course, Master Brittney. You and Master Sabrina have a good day of school."

Sabrina timidly waved to him. "Thank you…"

Heather had a new concern. "Why did the Vanderhoffs fire him?"

The nastiest smile appeared on Brittney's face. "You don't know?"

"… What should I know?"

Brittney looked positively ecstatic that she was going to be the first to tell her. Though, as a matter of course, it was still hard to differentiate from her usual expression.

"They went bust last night. All their money, the junk they owned, and everything that they used in place of a personality–gone."

Heather's mouth dropped open, and she stood there frozen for a good second. "Holy shit, really?"

Brittney nodded. "Trip and Van got pulled out of school and sent up to some group home in Oregon." With joy in her heart, she added. "They're never coming back."

There was no way this could be true. "Bullshit. What happened? How'd they go broke?"

Brittney, with a knowing look. "You already know. They were involved with Señor Senior Junior and Shego kidnapping Misao–and her parents were not cool with that."

Letting out a long breath she didn't realize she was holding, Heather was shaken. "Wow… she really cooked them."

"Well done inside, extra crispy outside," Sabrina said.

With that in mind, Heather visibly relaxed. "Awesome! That's a few less things me, Drew, or Dipper have to worry about."

But then a new realization came to her. "Oh no, what about Zoom…? I gotta talk to Roland."

"That comic book shop? It's probably fine, I heard that everything they had was redistributed around town. So, the shop might even be Nano's, now."

"I hope so; I'm gonna go find Roland and bug him about it just in case. See you in Calc."

Before Heather could take off, Sabrina called after her. "H-hey, um… Heather?"

She stopped and turned back. "What's up?"

Sabrina took a deep breath and after Brittney's harsh glare of encouragement boosted her resolve. "Are… you and Drew… a thing?"

Taken by surprise, Heather shook her head. "Um… we're not? We hang out, but we're not dating."

Sabrina shrank a bit, the next question being harder to ask. "… Are you… interested?"

In that instant, Heather saw where this was going. "Um… if you want to ask Drew out? Go for it, like… absolutely go for it! You two would be so cute together."

Brittney lifted an eyebrow as she cast a suspicious look at the blonde, while Sabrina was almost incandescent. "Really?"

"I'm rooting for you," Heather said without an ounce of hesitation.

Taking Heather's hands in her own, Sabrina shook them gratefully and rapidly. "Ohhh! Thankyouthankyouthankyouthankyou!"

Heather giggled. "It's nothing… Drew's a good friend, and I like that girls are starting to see his good sides."

"They certainly are," Brittney said, acutely aware of the girls besides Sabrina entering Andrew McCormick's orbit recently.

Pulling away, Heather waved farewell and headed off to the cafeteria. As soon as she left, Brittney turned to Sabrina.

"So, when are you going to make a move?"

Sabrina turned to her, beaming. "As soon as I recover from this nervous breakdown!"

With that, Sabrina gently laid on the ground, and curled up into a ball as all of her anxieties suppressed came flooded out–along with a bunch of new anxieties that came with this her aspirations. Sighing, Brittney stood over her so she could recover from her anxiety attack in the presence of a safe person.

@@@@@​

Unfortunately for Sabrina and her nervous aspirations, Drew was cutting class today–because he had to see it for himself. Stepping through the portal created by Star's scissors, he entered the sitting room of Hillhurst Mansion with Jackie, Marco, Janna, and Dipper–all carrying bags of comic books. After hearing it he couldn't believe it.

And after seeing it he still couldn't believe it.

"Okay, okay… we've watched a bunch of them so I gotta know," Mums asked through the haze of that good zaza. "Friday the 13th… or Halloween?"

Fangula blew out a long stream of smoke, adding to the haze as he pondered that question with a long hum. "Hmmm… Friday the 13th. Jason is motivated by both a bond with his mother, and a hatred for promiscuous and negligent teenagers. I find myself relating deeply with that."

Mums nodded. "Hates teens and loves his Mom. Yeah, that's something I can get behind. Michael Myers is just all over the place."

Frankenbeans, completely gone, added. "Nightmare on Elm Street bad."

"Yes, thank you, Captain Obvious' monster," Fangula said before shooting Mums a dark look. "And don't you ever compare me to that creep again. I do not want to do that to children, I just want to drink blood!"

Drew was doing his damnedest not to laugh and breathe in the intensely powerful smoke hanging in the air. "Oh my God, this is real."

The monsters all stopped and turned to look at them.

"Oh, hey, it's the blue one!" Mums held up a pipe. "Wanna blaze? None of us touched it, we just packed the bowl."

Andrew McCormick took a moment to really appreciate the absurdity of being offered the chance to smoke up with a three-millennia old mummy, a vampire, and a Frankenstein knockoff.

"I don't really do cannabis, but thank you?"

Mums shrugged his shoulders. "All right. More for us."

"Save some for when I get out of class, dude," Jackie requested.

Fangula looked over. "Why not start now?"

Dipper, partly amused by the same absurdity Drew appreciated–and already feeling a contact high–let out a laugh. "We're going down to set up more defenses for the base. So, we don't get people like that idiot from before showing up."

"Or the feds," Janna added.

Mums almost looked touched. "You brats are already making this arrangement better by the day. Make sure the new defenses leave a body, so Fangy here can have whatever's left, all right?"

"Nothing too noxious, please," Fangula chimed in.

Dipper laughed again. "I'll see what we can do?"

Drew coughed a bit. "Can we go? The colors are getting sharper."

Janna patted him on the small of his back as she walked past him to the organ. "You'll learn to like it."

The false wall the Organ sat against opened, revealing Flabber on the other side, happy to see his human guests. "Hey, kiddos! Welcome back!"

He zipped over to Drew. "And look at you, Drew! You're–as the kids like to say–"

Quickly Flabber transformed into a leaking faucet. "Dripped out."

Drew laughed. "Heh… you should've seen me on Saturday. I had a nice suit and everything."

Flabber pouted. "You at least got pictures?"

Drew held up his phone for emphasis. "Sure did."

Poofing back into his normal shape, Flabber clapped his hands excitedly–then zoomed over to appear next to Dipper in the shape of a blue-skinned, big-nosed office lady with a pompadour in the front and a hair bun in the back. "What's on the agenda today, Dipper?"

Dipper did not look directly at Flabber so he would not have to burn the image from his mind later. "Setting up defenses, keeping an eye out for Magnavore activity, and scanning a lot of comic books."

Flabber adjusted a pair of sharp office lady glasses. "If you like, I can help! What do you need to scan the comics for?"

"The monsters we've fought so far have been pretty much exactly like in the comics, just with different personalities. I figure we can create a database of the monsters and be ready to take them down easier when they show up."

Drew indicated the bags they brought with them. "And I have basically my whole collection of comics that I could bring."

"You have so many of these," Janna said.

"It's almost twenty-five years' worth of comics… though most of them are rereleases."

Flabber popped back to normal, excited. "Flab Out! Knowing the enemy is practically half the battle, with the rest being red lasers, blue lasers, and Snake Eyes!" As Dipper, Drew, and Marco chuckled, he continued. "I would really like to sit down and read some, too, while we're at it. I just love the Beetleborgs. Both the comic and the real ones. Y'see, they're pretty great."

Drew accepted the confidence with grace. "Thanks, Flabber."

Marco and Jackie exchanged looks, before the latter asked Flabber. "Hey, we're going to head back to class, but when school's out can you help Jackie and I explore the house?"

Flabber looked back at him and Jackie. "What's up?"

"There's a door we found Saturday that I want to try to find again; Wolfy's."

"Wolfy?" Drew repeated.

Flabber nearly fell over and turned to look at Marco. "Hold your camel there, Marco Polo. Did you say Wolfy's room? You found it?!"

Marco nodded. "I'm pretty sure I almost got it to open, too."

Flabber gasped with such dramatic flair that there was even a musical sting. "You opened it?!"

"No, that Goblin dude interrupted," Jackie said, Marco nodding with her.

Drew folded his arms, curious. "Is this room a big deal?"

"Is it a big deal? I can't even find Wolfy's room, and this is my house!" Flabber explained.

Marco continued from that point. "That's the thing. The Universal Pictures Cinematic Monsterverse explained that only certain people can even find Wolfy's door, let alone open it."

Janna turned to Flabber. "Is that true?"

Flabber quickly nodded. "Sure is, and I can't open it, either."

Dipper and Drew both did double takes, asking in unison. "Why did it open for you?"

Janna hummed. "Hey Flabber, got some insight?"

Flabber cringed. "I wish I did; most of what I remember about the old days was way after the guys were already living here, and the Doc didn't want to tell me why–just that they had to, and I had to watch over them."

He hung his head in contrition. "Sorry."

"Don't worry about it," Marco assured him.

It was too much for Dipper to resist. "Yeah. This just means we get to solve another mystery. We should have all the comics scanned by last bell, so I'll join in."

Drew couldn't help his interest either. "Yeah, I'm in, too."

As they reached the Beetle Battle Base proper, Marco asked. "Hey, what's Wolfy like?"

Flabber seemed almost honored to speak of the hitherto absent monster. "Oh gee, guys, Wolfy is entirely different from any of the monsters you've met here!"

"What, is he actually not a man-eating monster?" Jackie asked.

"That and more!" Flabber replied. "In fact, I'd say he's the most human monster you'll ever meet."

The kids all looked at one another, curious. None more curious than Marco.

@@@@@​

Mr. Geike made his way down the hall, his presence causing a wide berth to spread. The Calculus Teacher's dark eyes scanned the students, and he took no small satisfaction at some of the disgruntled or dreadful looks some gave him–or how the members of the football team didn't even bother to make eye contact. Despite the chaos yesterday, school was back in session, and he was here to make an impression.

One burned into the brains of each of these carefree, entitled brats.

"Mr. Geike!" Principal Skeeves called to him from behind, much to the displeasure that Geike suppressed. "I'm glad I caught you before you went in. Can I have a quick word with you?"

Rolling his eyes, Mr. Geike turned to the rotund man. "What is it, Mr. Skeeves?"

"Yes, I wanted to ask you about your class with Miss Darlian. How has that been?"

Mr. Geike noticed a hint of anxiety in the Principal's tone when he mentioned her. "Class was… not particularly difficult. We had a small disagreement at the start, but she shaped up very quickly. There may just be hope for her."

Principal Skeeves nodded. "Excellent, just… in the future… try to be less…"

Mr. Geike narrowed his eyes. "Less what?"

"Less…" Principal Skeeves sought the lightest, most diplomatic term he could. "… Difficult. I understand you have a very particular teaching method, but could you avoid driving her from your class?"

Of course. "Principal Skeeves. I have Miss Wong in my class, and she quickly got with the program without throwing a fit. If how strict I am with Miss Darlian is going to be a problem for you, just concede like you have with Miss Wong–problem solved."

He raised a finger, his expression darkening. "I am not afraid of any of those kids, and I have no reason to be. If Miss Darlian takes exception, then her throwing a tantrum says more about her."

Principal Skeeves cleared his throat. "It's not a matter of her complaining about you. At this point, no one has said anything about–"

"If no one has said anything, then there's no issue. Look, Skeevy, I don't tell you how to do your job–for all the terrible things it has brought to this school. So, unless you want me to start loudly complaining about how you take money from parents and run this school ignoring every rule and reg in the state of California? You're not getting on me about my coping mechanisms."

That did the trick, and whatever concerns Principal Skeeves had about Mr. Geike's professionalism melted away in the heat of self-preservation and paranoia. Sweating from that very furnace, Skeeves physically backed away from Mr. Geike.

"You make a very good point. I will… ahem… pretend this conversation never happened… andkeepmymouthshutifthisexplodesinyourface."

Mr. Geike openly rolled his eyes this time. "Good."

Turning away from the Principal, he walked on to his classroom. It amused him a little that Principal Skeeves claimed she had not complained, and yet there he was talking exactly like she had, and was trying to be diplomatic.

Misao Darlian was a billionaire but in the end, she was just another spoiled brat throwing her money around to get what she wanted. No different than the Vanderhoff boys and Brittney Wong.

Students like them, students who thought they were entitled to the world because of money, or looks, or who their parents were, or anything but their effort and hard work? And got everyone to worship them like they were Gods of popularity? He hated those kids the most.

With a spiteful spring in his step, he made a direct line to his class, and pushed open the door to step inside. He had an almost full classroom–and his students looked as unhappy as they could ever be, with a day off from school robbed of them by the menace in Skullnick's class.

The less he thought about her the better.

"Don't look at me like that," he said, "Blame your precious magical princess for fixing the school up instead of leaving it to Miss Wong's people."

He looked at Brittney with that and noticed that Misao's seat was empty. "Speaking of Princesses, I see our newest one is absent. Where is she?"

Heather raised her hand. "Um… I saw her in the library last."

The teacher hummed in surprise. Only one day and she'd given up?

"Hm. That's anticlimactic, I expected her to last the whole week, at least." He shrugged his shoulders as the bell rang. "Oh well, open your books, we're getting started."

As he turned to start writing, however, the door opened and Misao walked in. In addition to her other books, she carried under her arm a book picked up from the library.

"Oh! I am so sorry, Herr Geike! I thought I had more time!" She said quickly as she hurried to her desk.

He turned back and glowered at her. "I have a zero-tolerance policy towards tardiness."

Misao set her books down. "Oh, I know, and again I am very sorry. It is just that I had to get a book, because I wanted to show you something."

Mr. Geike folded his arms, unamused. "Is it a real excuse for why you're not in before the bell?"

"It is very good–ja? You see, I thought a lot about what you said yesterday."

And now the teacher lifted an eyebrow. What was this girl getting at?

"What did I say that you thought about?"
Misao flashed him a big smile. "About what matters in your classroom! How logical and critical thinking and hard work are what this golden age of technology needs and should be what matters there and in this class!"

Heather looked past Misao at Brittney, who met her confused look with a shrug as she watched Misao's impromptu presentation.

"And I thought about how you mentioned hypersonic jets; those are very miraculous, yes."

Mr. Geike gestured to her. "Your point?"

"I mean, the ability to create an air-breathing aircraft that can travel at 8 times the speed of sound and mitigate fuselage heat damage, atmospheric damage, and sonic boom effects? That requires very much hard work, study of physics, engineering, and–most importantly–mathematical formulas!"

Picking up the book, Misao walked over to the teacher's desk and set it down. When he looked at it, his eyebrows rose. It was a scientific journal, for the year 2007.

He scrutinized the book, then looked up at Misao.

"That's obvious. It's probably the only good thing Hyuuga Heavy Industries has done in the last decade–making high speed, efficient, and safe hypersonic flight a reality by publishing its findings to the public and distributing it for anyone who wanted to develop it."

He gestured to her again. "I still don't see your point."

Misao, still smiling, opened the book. "Please, Herr Geike, I wanted you to take a look at the second author on that published paper."

The students all began murmuring quietly as Mr. Geike looked down at the book. A look of surprised disbelief appeared on his face as he picked up the book and turned a page–then he went completely wide-eyed as he turned several pages and stared at different parts of each successive page.

His head snapped up to stare at Misao. "… Bullshit."

Gasps rose from the class, Heather covering her mouth as Brittney just leaned onto her desk and smirked in malicious amusement.

Misao tilted her head, smiling innocently. "What do you mean?"

"This is…" He shook his head. "You photoshopped this book."

"Oh no, this is straight from the library."

Heather stood up. "Misao? What is it?"

Misao gestured to the man's shirt pocket. "You can check the review in Nature if you don't believe it."

Mr. Geike looked back down at the book. Then pulled out his phone and spoke into it.

"Siri, who are the published Authors on the paper 'Achieving Economic Hypersonic Flight' published in Nature in October 2007?"

There was a brief pause before the phone answered in a woman's computerized voice.

"Achieving Economic Hypersonic Flight, published in 2007, was a paper authored and penned by an international team funded by Hyuuga Heavy Industries. The paper is notable for its youngest author, Misao Darlian, who was nine years old at the time of publication."

The class's attention focused on its newest student, as a swirl of murmuring spread.

Brittney rolled her eyes briefly, before keeping them on Misao to see what she did next.

Misao kept smiling as she took the book and held it up for the class to see, showing a picture of herself as a younger girl standing for a group photograph with an entire team of researchers.

"The ability to think logically, think critically, and do the work. We live in a golden age of technology and discovery," she said, repeating Mr. Geike's speech. "Everything from hologram projectors in phones, to hypersonic business jets, to liquid batteries have all come from the scientific brilliance of the world's greatest thinkers. Their work, and humanity's benefit of it, comes from classes like these."

She set the book down, her smile disappearing and replaced with a much colder sneer as her friendly gaze darkened.

"George Bernard Shaw said in his 1905 play Man and Superman: 'those who can, do; those who cannot, teach.'"

She pointed at his face, wrath burning in her eyes. "Herr Geek, you're not even qualified to do that."

Mr. Geike stared at Misao, his face pale, but slowly turning red as the girl glared back in defiance, her gaze commanding he take those same words he used to demean her and eat them in front of the entire classroom.

The atmosphere he created, the presence he projected, the power he held… it had all shattered in an instant. Leaving him subject to the stunned and ridiculing looks of the students he despised.

Placing his trembling hands on the book, he closed it, and then pushed it back to her. "Take this book back to the library and stay there–if you're so smart."

Misao's smile returned. "Would you care to join me? I noticed a few inaccuracies in your problems during the last class, and we can go back over them to make sure you understand the material, if you like."

No one had ever seen the teacher get so mad that his face started to turn purple. Fists clenched, teeth bared, Mr. Geike took an angry deep breath and walked to the door. "When I get back here, I do not want to see you in this classroom, Miss Darlian."

As soon as he left, slamming the door behind him, the classroom began talking excitedly among themselves.

"Whoa, The Geek ragequit."

"Serves him right, the douche."

"Justice for Jackie!"

"The Vanderhoffs are gone, and now the Geek got turned into the Wuss."

As Misao sat down Heather turned to Misao. "Wait, did you really publish that paper?"

"Ja!" Misao confirmed. "One of my favorite things is aerospace. I had such a passion for it that I studied maths by the bookload when I was very little, and that eventually turned into me contributing to that paper."

Brittney rested her elbow on the desk and her cheek on her upheld palm as she looked at her. "You just got done destroying the Vanderhoffs, and you're already picking a fight with a teacher?"

Misao answered bluntly. "I really like calculus and would have liked going to this class with Jackie."

Letting out a huff, Brittney shrugged her shoulders. She could respect that. "You know what? I'm going to take a page out of your book and see if I can get him removed from the school. We don't have to tolerate the Vanderhoffs–we don't need to tolerate teachers who only became teachers to bully kids."

Misao did a double take. "That is his damage?!"

Brittney nodded as Heather confirmed it. "He said it himself. That the only reason he became a teacher was so he could 'bully kids like the ones who bullied him.'"

Making a foul face, the exchange student shook her head. "No, absolutely not, that is completely deranged."

"You don't need to have a lot of money to go on a power trip," Brittney replied as she leaned back in her seat, "You just have to have any power at all."

Heather let out a small laugh. "There are too many people on power trips, who think they can get away with everything. It'd be nice if they could all just disappear like the Vanderhoffs, forever."

As Misao and Brittney agreed with Heather, Misao noticed the edges of her vision blur. In the next moment, the blurriness swept across the whole of her vision and for the briefest instant everything became brighter and sharper… before fading back to normal.

"… Huh?" Misao looked around. "What?"

Both Brittney and Heather stared at her in confusion.

"What?" The former asked.

Misao looked around for another moment, as just as quickly as she noticed it, it slipped from her memory. "Did you… what were we talking about, just now?"

Heather tilted her head. "We were talking about how it'd be nice if jerks like the Vanderhoffs disappeared."

Brittney nodded. "Yeah."

That… didn't seem right, there was something more, but she couldn't remember it suddenly. Whatever she had just seen, it wasn't the strangest thing she'd experienced since she got here.

Whatever it was, she thought, It is probably not even worth remembering.

The door opened and a Latina teacher in her early 30s, wearing khaki shorts and a red polo shirt walked in. Right away the class devoted their full attention to her as she went to the board.

"Hello, class, sorry for being late," she greeted. "I guess my mind just blanked for a minute there."

"Hello, Ms. Espinoza," the students all answered.

The woman smiled and turned to the chalkboard. "Okay, open up your books to Section 3, we're going to pick up where we left off yesterday." She looked back. "Didn't think you'd be back so soon, huh?"

Misao smiled. "We can thank Star for that, ja?"

Brittney shrugged her shoulders. "It's nice that she's actually cleaning up the messes now. Saves my parents some money."

Ms. Espinoza's calculus class laughed, as the students picked up where they left off yesterday like nothing had happened.

= - = 7-7 = - =​

And with this, we end Volume 7 of Legends, the feud with the Vanderhoff Brothers, and begin looking forward towards new conflicts, new mysteries, and a story that will spread out beyond the peaceful streets of Echo Creek and through the annals of history.

There will be a few another omake scene in the near future, but look forward to Volume 8 appearing here starting in early 2024 if not by Christmas. In the meantime, more Senpai: A Story of Good Friends is coming soon.

 

[The Ero-Sennin]

The following represents an unfinished scene and may be altered or dropped at a later time. Thanks for reading!

Warning: Good ol' fashioned turn of the 20th Century cultural mores.

---

|Echo Creek, 1899|​

In 1847, a caravan of California-bound settlers led by Bonson Bonner descended into a valley northeast of Los Angeles following word of another party of California settlers being devastated by poor preparation and a particularly cruel winter while trying to find their fortunes further north. With this decision, some clever dealings, back-stabbings that would make the Northwest family proud, and a battle against some extremely determined marsupials, the settlement of Echo Creek was established.

For the next few decades, Echo Creek would grow and flourish, going from a small settlement to a prosperous rival of neighboring Los Angeles in short order. A pastoral town centered around ranches and vineyards. Echo Creek became known for being a restful retreat for visitors back east–a place where one could relax and find peace from the hectic world at their own pace.

Then, in 1890, Oil was discovered.

By 1899, the vast stretches of rolling cattle land and rows of vineyards that one could look on from the slope of the valley were gone–replaced by a forest of iron and steel wreathed in the haze of industry. Echo Creek was all but no more, a cloistered city center surrounded by oil derricks and pumps, siphoning the vast reserves of black gold that lay beneath the Earth.

The nascent Southern California oil boom has made Echo Creek extremely prosperous. But even as wealth is pulled straight from the Earth and into pockets, the ravenous need to overflow every cup has seen the aforementioned forest of metal spread. It climbs the hills–spreading into neighboring lowlands and valleys of the San Gabriels. To the remaining farmers and vinters in Echo Creek, the growing forest approaching the edges of their lands is an inevitable progression–heralded by an inexorable force that would sooner see fertile grounds turn to worthless dust if it meant one drop more of the bounty beneath.

Three such heralds stood on the other side of a plain wooden fence separating them from the front yard of a farmhouse overlooking the encroaching forest. In the afternoon heat, the men were dressed in loose white button down shirts, blue jeans, boots, and wide-brimmed hats iconic of the formerly wild west. The leader of the men, holding a stack of papers in his hand, held them aloft like a flag of truce–displaying it to the man who stood on the porch armed with a double-barrel shotgun.

"Now Mr. Baldwin, there is no need for any of this hostility. We're only here to persuade you to consider the handsome offer that's been presented."

The bare-chested, bearded man on the front porch of his home closed the breech of his loaded shotgun, and answered promptly–his voice heavy with contempt. "Handsome offer?! You boys come here demanding I accept not even half of what my pappy paid for this land, just so I can watch my family starve while you oil jockeys get rich?! I'll tell you what, you can take that offer of yours and see if the Devil himself will take it! Then you come back to me!"

The man holding the papers raised his other hand. "Whoa, whoa, whoa…! Hold on there, sir! This does not have to resort to violence!"

"You come past that fence and I'll have every right to!" Mr. Baldwin raised the shotgun and aimed at the three men, everyone involved aware that at this range all he would have to do is squeeze the triggers of his weapon to solve most of his problems. "I'll leave you right where you fall so the Sheriff knows it!"

The two men accompanying the paper holder went to their left sides. The man to the negotiator's right reached straight down with his left hand, while the man to his left reached across his own front, to shiny revolvers nestled none too snugly in their holsters. Seeing this, the man holding the papers called out. "Hold, damn it!"

He looked back at Mr. Baldwin. "We don't need to start somethin' unavoidable, gentlemen. Cycles of violence happen when you shoot one man, then another man shoots back, and the shooting goes on until something truly tragic happens and a family loses everything."

Mr. Baldwin narrowed his eyes at the negotiator's word, understanding full well their intent.

"This can all be resolved peacefully-like; you can take the offer, we can leave, and we won't have to come back." The man shook the papers again. "It's either that, or these tense and meaningless confrontations keep happening, sir, until someone slips and does something they can't take back."

"I'm plenty firm where I stand," Mr. Baldwin replied. "The only ones here having a problem with slippin' are you boys with the oil on yer shoes and blood on yer hands."

Lowering the papers, the man trying to negotiate realized that terms would not be arrived at so easily. "This is the best deal you're going to get, sir."

Mr. Baldwin's attention shot past the three men and to the path behind them as his opponent drawled on.

"Men with less land than you have made much more agreeing to close, it's a seller's market."

Behind the three men, the voice of a young man called back. "A seller's market? Oh Mr. Hutchinson, do go on."

The men beseeching Mr. Baldwin turned to face a caucasian man with a dark goatee and mustache calmly stepping off a bicycle and setting it against the fence bordering the path up to the home. In spite of the afternoon heat he was impeccably dressed in a purple suit over an orange vest and a yellow ascot tie with purple top hat. He carried in his hand a cane he slipped from a basket aligned with the legs of the bicycle's front fork. Twirling the cane and setting it down, he began a leisurely stroll to the three men, beckoning them as he did.

"As a matter of fact, I would like an appraisal of my own land while you're in the neighborhood. Because I've heard that you've–" He stopped when he saw Mr. Baldwin on his porch, and recoiled a full step back, his dark eyes widening in amazement.

"My word," the newcomer addressed the man he called Hutchinson, holding the papers. "Are… are you shaking down a white man?"

Hutchinson glowered at the newcomer. "Well if it isn't the alleged Doctor. This ain't a matter involvin' you, son. Why don't you hop on your fancy bicycle and mosey off to where you came?"

The newcomer shook his head. "I'm afraid I'm here for an appointment. Mrs. Baldwin is several months along and I'm here to perform a weekly checkup."

"The hell you are," Hutchinson replied. "A sane man wouldn't trust a snake like you with a haircut, let alone his wife and child."

The man in purple brought a white gloved hand to his chest, as though in pain. "Don't besmirch my handiness with a blade either. I've cut plenty handsome heads of hair in my time, and guarantee you won't find a closer shave west of the Mississippi or south of Skagway–but I digress."

He gestured past the men to Mr. Baldwin, and then side to side, indicating the farmer's land. "I was under the impression that your employer was more discriminating when it came to land acquisition. Are you genuinely out here going back on what I recall was… your word?"

Hutchinson's glower intensified. "This is strictly business, it's something a new resident like you wouldn't understand."

"Oh, my disciplines are wide and varied, Mr. Hutchinson. I'm no stranger to the 'You and Yours Discount.'"

"You and Yours?" Hutchinson repeats.

"You and Yours. A buyer offers to take the land from you at a lower price than what it's actually worth… one you accept so that nothing happens to you and yours."

He looked to his right, at the derricks off in the distance. "I've lived here in these parts long enough to see it as the standard model of business. Except, it would appear your employer is all out of Mestizo and Tongva to force off their lands, so they've gone after the white growers and herders. I applaud the progressive shift, but it's no less abominable."

Hutchinson's left eye twitched. "Good God man, you talk too much."

The newcomer walked right up to the three men, his lips curved up in an amicable smile. "Sirs, I am a man of confidence, it is my nature to talk a great deal."

Seeing hands moving to revolvers, he stops short and brings up his left in a halting gesture. "With that in mind, I would like to make a counteroffer on behalf of Mr. Baldwin here."

Hutchinson rolled his eyes. "You're no one's representative, Hill–"

It all happened suddenly, explosively. The cane in the newcomer's right hand came up and smashed into the chin of the man on Hutchinson's left. The man on his right reached across for his revolver, but found it already snatched clean from the holster by the newcomer's white gloved hand. Hutchinson himself dropped his papers, for the pistol in the shoulder holster he wore, when the glint of sun off steel stayed his hand.

The cane clattered to the ground, and Hutchinson looked at the slender, razor-sharp knife that slipped from the purple sleeve of the man's suit.

Underneath the brim of the man in purple's top hat, a cold and level voice calmly intoned. "You'll pass on the closest shave of your life, Mr. Hutchinson, take your man I've dinged good, and you'll leave these fine people alone."

Hutchinson, persuaded by the metal against his jugular and the man to his right holding his hands up in quiet fear, slowly nodded.

Dropping the knife, the man in black pulled the pistol from Hutchinson's holster and gave it a look in surprise. It wasn't a revolver, nor was it one of the unmistakable Mausers that were becoming popular back east. It was a black, slide-operated semi-automatic pistol with the magazine stored in the handle. "Good God man, how much are you being paid to afford one of these Brownings?"

Stepping aside, he gestured to the two men with both guns as he used his foot to slip the revolver of the downed man from its holster and kick it away. "Go on now, be on your way and don't let me find out that your employer has sent anyone else up this hill to start persting people for their homes."

Hutchinson glared at the man, as he and his remaining associate complied, gathering up the third man and leaving. "Don't you worry, none! We'll be coming straight for you, Hillhurst! You'll see!"

Dr. Aloysius Hillhurst watched the three men go staggering off, headed towards several horses tied up at the very edge of the property. Satisfied to see them go, and doubly sure his coat was well-lined with the ammunition of the heavier weapons the men kept on said horses, he turned towards the Baldwin farmhouse.

And stared at the barrels of the Baldwin farmhouse's shotgun. "… Well."

Mr. Baldwin gestured with a quick upward motion of his barrels. "You'll be on your way, too. I don't need the sympathies of no damn Mexican lover."

Putting the pistols away, Dr. Hillhurst picked up the cane and knife–slipping the latter back up his sleeve. "No good deed goes unpunished, I see. No worries, I have no intention of lingering."

Dr. Hillhurst returned to his bicycle, climbed onto it, and spared the farmer a final look before he rode off. Making sure Hutchinson and his friends were well ahead, he began coasting down the long slope from the verdant hills overlooking Echo Creek and down into the haze of the derrick forest that surrounded the town and stood on every other block.

---

Meet the man who started it all...

 

[The Ero-Sennin]

It's been a minute. A long minute. With my work on Legends resuming (including a lot more 1899 stuff), it's time for the blood to get flowing here.

= - = 7-EX = - =

|Final Result|​

"Kombat Knat has been destroyed," Vexor reported to his generals. "With that, we've lost a key asset."

The Magnavores were gathered in front of Noxic's workshop, Vexor looking at the mostly finished project with his back to his minions. "A new approach will be needed to deal with our enemies."

He turned just enough to look back and address them. "Any suggestions?"

Jara spoke first, and forcefully. "We must lure them out onto a battlefield of our choosing, where they cannot escape to their precious base or school–even if they escape the Gaohm Zone."

Typhus agreed. "This is the third time our guys showed up at that school of theirs and they pulled out some muscle or firepower that made life harder for us."

"That dump they call a base is a no go, too. Anti-Teleport, big honkin' guns, and all their kit is there too," Noxic complained.

Jara spoke. "We need a comprehensive strategy. Not merely throwing things against the wall. We need to take what we have learned from each of these encounters and use it to gain the advantage! These are children with ruinous powers at their fingertips playing at being heroes, not soldiers fighting a war, this should not be a puzzle for us!"

Vexor faced Noxic's workshop. "All of you are correct."

Noxic was surprised that he was being praised. "We are?"

Jara was given pause. "What is it?"

"This is a war, and we are warriors," Vexor began, "We've crossed swords with the Melzard Tribe and survived the attentions of Bill Cipher. Though limited in resources and clarity, we do have the advantage of experience and tenacity. Most importantly, however, we are free to prosecute this war as we see fit. To our own tune, at our own pace, and not to the convenience of the enemy."

Typhus and Noxic looked at each other, before the latter asked. "So… what, we're going to start doing stuff after they go to bed or somethin'?"

Jara understood what Vexor was getting at. "Yes, exactly that. At night while they sleep, during the day while they hide behind their pet troll. From the start of this, we have been the ones who control when a battle begins, and we must press that advantage!"

"Yeah, okay, but what if they decide to fight us anyway?" Noxic asked.

Vexor chuckled. "Then it is even better for us."

Now that part Jara was a little lost on. "What do you mean?"

Vexor gestured to Noxic's workshop. "This will be a war of attrition. And this is our weapon to win that battle."

He turned to face them. "So let them come in the night, let them break their social obligations to play hero. We will wear them down with battle after battle, and their delusions of heroism will allow them to fall exhausted at our feet."

Typhus punched his palm into his fist. "All right! Let's fight a real war! They won't know what hit them."

"You're still gonna need that order of Scabs, right, Vexor?" Noxic asked.

"They are essential to the plan." He then turned to Jara. "And this force will need a commander. One able to work in the field, independent of you."

Jara nodded. "Then we have some comics to read, there is one I have in mind for what you ask."

Vexor tilted towards Jara in a nod. "I expect nothing but good results."

@@@@@​

Sitting in the back of the Hyuuga Heavy Industries SUV, Shego worked her jaw and rubbed her face against the door to finally peel the sticky tape from her mouth. The moment it was free, she turned and looked at Señor Senior Junior, who was seated peacefully on the other end of the bench seat at the very back of the vehicle. He was wearing the nervous, goofy smile of a man hoping to not get his face bitten off but knowing he likely will.

Rather than bare her fangs to start tearing off strips of his face, she broke into a dangerous smile. "So… Junior… can you answer me a question?"

"Yes, of course," he quickly and obediently answered as two of the armed guards got into the front seats and the SUV started up.

"What…" Shego began quietly, prompting Junior to brace himself for the vocal eruption to follow. "THE FUCK?!"

Junior recoiled, pushed back just as much by the fury in her voice. "YOU HAD A LITERAL MAGIC BULLSHIT POWERED ARMOR IN YOUR BACK FUCKING POCKET, AND YOU PUT IT ON THE FUCKING HOSTAGE?!"

Junior shrank with every boiling word from her mouth. "Look! Look! Please understand, I had to do it!"

"YOU KIDNAPPED A FUCKING HYUUGA JUST TO HAND HER BACK ON A SILVER PLATE TO HER MOM, AND FOR NOTHING!"

She threw her head back against the door and its bullet-proof window.

"I HAD TO FIGHT A MAGICAL FUCKING GIRL, SSJ, DO YOU UNDERSTAND HOW BULLSHIT THAT IS?!"

When Shego didn't start screaming again after a few moments, Junior let out a sigh. "I suppose that you would not understand."

"You're right, I don't." Shego snarled. "So, enlighten me, SSJ. Why did you go through all the trouble to hunt down and kidnap Misao Darlian? If we just took that thing that you gave her, we'd be running the world instead of scores!"

Junior responded promptly. "Do you remember when I said that this was a matter of family pride?"

"It's why I've been on board with this until very recently."

He winced at the growl Shego trailed off into but maintained his composure. "Running scores is fun. It is the most fun I have ever had, and I have learned a lot from you, Shego. What I've learned has opened doors for me that my wealth alone could never, and I want to step through them."

Curiosity replaced Shego's anger. "Hold on, what are you trying to say here, exactly?"

"I am saying that by kidnapping the daughter of one of the most powerful people in the world–who can do anything up to and including taking everything a billionaire has and vanishing his children–I have proven that I am worth more than just my father's name or money."

When he put it like that, Shego couldn't be mad anymore. "You little shit, I get it now! You pulled the big one and lived."

"We pulled the big one and lived," Junior corrected her.

Shego chuckled. "Every time I think I'm going to demote you to paycheck provider, you remind me that you're the best I've worked with, SSJ. Man, now I wonder what's next for you."

Junior let out a reluctant sigh. "Sadly, you will have to wait and see."

Wariness returned, and Shego gave him a look. "Huh? No, the second I get a gap with these restraints off, we're out of here."

He shook his head. "No, I mean, this is the end of our association. From here on out, I doubt we will see each other again."

The SUV pulled to a stop, and Shego immediately noticed flashing lights outside. "Huh? Wait." She turned back to Junior. "What's going to happen to you?"

Junior shrugged his shoulders. "That's up to fate, I guess. Either way, it's been fun." He brightened. "Oh, and do not tell my father, please? You know how he gets worried about me, okay?"

The door opened, and an LA County Sheriff grabbed Shego and pulled her out of the car. "Up to fate…? Junior! I need a little bit more context?! What's going to happen to you?!" She yelled as she was dragged out of the vehicle.

She kept shouting, asking what he meant, before just calling out his name, before the closing of an armored police van's doors cut her voice off.

A few moments later, the flashing lights receded as the Sheriff's units drove away to take her to lock up. A few moments after that, the door to the SUV opened, and in climbed Momiji Hyuuga.

"I've heard stories about Shego having a good partnership with you, but hearing her actually concerned for someone else was… odd," she admitted while she closed the door and sat beside him.

Junior nodded. "She is a good teacher who values competence, innovation, and assertiveness. You don't even need to appeal to her ego, she likes if you do something she hadn't thought of."

Momiji weighed on that with a hum. "That is something I will keep in mind for later, thank you."

As Momiji buckled herself in and the SUV got moving, Junior asked. "So, what happens now?"

Momiji reached into her pocket and pulled out the strange necklace that Junior had given to Misao, and activated the armor that allowed her to defeat Kombat Knat. "You completed an impossible task, even if it did end with you being arrested. You demonstrated all the qualities needed during your trial–patience, daring, cunning, ruthlessness, restraint, and determination in the face of unwinnable odds."

"Once I knew Kim Possible was on my trail, it was certainly over," Junior admitted. "But those other guys… I did not expect them to be so aggressive!"

"If you only knew," Momiji said with a small laugh. "But you will soon enough. You'll know everything, and that will be your true final test."

Junior looked disappointed. "There is still one more thing?"

She nodded. "A simple yes or no question: Do you believe you can handle the truth of what you are becoming part of?"

Señor Senior Junior's disappointment vanished, but before the joy of success could reach him, he stopped and considered the question. "… That is a good question." Slowly he nodded. "I believe I can. I accepted this trial and every risk that came with it, the truth should be no different."

"Good answer," she said before reaching over and unlocking his handcuffs.

"Welcome to the 47, Señor Senior Junior."

@@@@@​

In the back yard of the Pines' home. Mabel opened the back yard's gate, carrying a box stacked with closed cardboard trays. "Hey, brocephalus, the food's here! Also, the Beetleborgs all made it home without a problem."

Dipper, sitting at the other end of the picnic table across from Kim, nodded to his sister. The Pines twins, Marco, Jackie, Janna, and Star were gathered with Team Possible, waiting for the victory feast that they ordered on their way back from the Vanderhoff residence. Misao was already in bed. Worn out as she was after her the day, she'd gone straight up to their room and fell asleep with Waddles in her arms, leaving everyone else to socialize as the evening deepened into night.

"Okay, Dipper and I have Steak Picado! For Kim we have a Chicken burrito," Mabel announced as she went around the table. "For Ron and Rufus, we have Tacos and Nachos, Chile Rellenos for Janna, Aguachile de Camarón for Jackie, and Nachos for Star and Marco!"

"Thanks Mabel," Dipper said as he took his tray, before he turned his attention back to Kim, Ron, and of course Rufus. "So, I wanted to say thanks again for coming to help deal with this, especially on such short notice."

"It's so no big," Kim assured him, "We do short notice all the time. Plus, I got to spend a day in LA–even if it was The Mathter causing you trouble I'd be here."

Marco chimed in. "After fighting Shego, I'm gonna say I'd rather fight the Mathter."

Star protested. "Math is way harder than fighting Shego, what are you talking about?"

Ron was in full agreement. "Yeah, Shego is just trying to kill us. Math is actual torture."

"Thank you!" Star exclaimed in vindication.

"Still," Ron then conceded, "Even if it was the Mathter, I'll come out here so I can visit the Tex-Mex Mecca… Bueno Nacho Headquarters."

At that, Marco made a face. "Oh yeah, I forgot that you like that stuff. Honestly? Bueno Nacho sucks."

Ron's mouth dropped open, as he slowly turned to stare at Marco, Rufus joining him.

Kim rolled her eyes and turned back to Dipper. "Anyway, we've actually been waiting for you to get back to us about Shego and SSJ after Mabel first gave the heads up."

"We would've gotten to you sooner, but as you saw, we've been dealing with other business." He explained.

"About that," Kim replied, "If you need our help with the Magnavores, don't hesitate to call again, they sound like bad news."

"I'll keep that in mind, you were crazy out there."

Kim preened under his praise. "Heh, thanks."

"What do you mean Bueno Nacho sucks?" Ron asked, as if Marco Diaz just insulted his family and Rufus.

"Exactly what I mean, it sucks," Marco explained.

Jackie, beside him, agreed. "It totally sucks."

Ron looked directly to his left at Star. "Tell me you've had Bueno Nacho and tell them that it doesn't suck."

"Ooh, that means Good Nacho, doesn't it?" Star asked. "I've had Bueno Nachos, made by Marco."

"Thank you," Marco said to her.

"But Bueno Nacho the restaurant? Is there even one in Echo Creek?"

"Like ten years ago, yeah," Jackie explained. "It went out of business in like a year because no one went."

"How is that possible?" Ron asked.

Janna, who was eating her chile rellenos, looked over. "Britta's Tacos kicked its butt, that's how."

"Yeah," Marco continued, "A big chain making glorified lunch food isn't competing with authentic local flavor."

Ron looked down at the cardboard container, and then turned his nose up. "Well, I'm not eating this, then."

Kim looked away from Dipper. "Ron, just eat the food."

"No, not until they stop disparaging the good name of Bueno Nacho!" Ron declared.

Kim stared at him. "You mean the same Bueno Nacho that changed the entire menu and got rid of your Naco Night discount?"

"It's a misstep on their part, but I'm still going to stand up for them!"

Janna called over. "Bueno Nacho is a multi-billion-dollar corporation. You don't need to defend its honor."

"I'm practically its Employee of the Year!" Ron retorted. "I put the Naco on the menu! I even get royalties for it… though my parents and our accountant said I can't touch it until I'm eighteen."

Dipper perked up and looked at Ron. "You're finally gotten paid for it? How much?"

"Since I get a percentage of every sale, it's about a hundred million dollars."

"WHAT?!" Dipper, Mabel, and Marco shouted at once.

"Wow, you could buy a peerage in Mewni with that cash," Star said.

Jackie was impressed and disturbed. "That many people like Bueno Nacho?"

Janna leaned over. "There's no accounting for taste, babe."

"They should be held accountable!" Marco demanded.

Ron shook his head. "I really thought we could be friends…"

Mabel, ever the benevolent, finally weighed in. "Boys! Boys! There's no need to fight over who's better, Bueno Nacho or Britta's Tacos. What matters now, is that we kicked Shego and Señor Senior Junior's butts, and have good food to celebrate."

She held up a wad of cash measured in 50s and 100s. "Good food that we didn't pay for!"

Dipper stared at the money. "Mabel, where'd you get that from?"

"I took it from Trip's bedroom just before we left, it was just lying around all willy-nilly!" She waved the money back and forth. "We don't have to worry about petty cash for the rest of the school year with this!"

Dipper figured as much. "Oh, well, okay. Hopefully there's more when we go back after the cleanup."

Ron, fine with not fighting over food, still had a lingering issue with that. "Is that okay? Just… taking their stuff?"

Dipper nodded. "Ron, even as I'm fairly certain Misao's mom is part of some huge shadowy organization that controls the world from the shadows and allows her to get away with what she did, I'm perfectly fine with what happened to Trip and Van and I'm glad we never have to deal with them again."

"This really feels like some kind of crazy dream now," Jackie admitted from where she sat between Marco and Janna. "Not only are we done with those turbo dweebs, but I got to fight Shego, too. Shego! And I did pretty good."

"You did better than me," Star grumbled, figuratively and literally sore about getting knocked out by Shego during the brawl.

Dipper looked over at Jackie as she stuffed several lime-cooked shrimps into her mouth. "Yeah, I have to say… you went really hard against her and that Goblin idiot. I wish we had you on sooner."

Jackie smiled as she swallowed her food, then replied. "It'd be nice if Marco, Star, and I could dodge like Kim or take a hit like the Beetleborgs, but I'm still ready to fight the Magnavores anytime."

Star, with a mouthful of chips, suddenly raised her hand as she tried to speak. "Ooh! Ooh! I'm working on something for that!"

Everyone turned to Star as she forced down her food, coughed, then eagerly explained. "Flabber isn't the only one who can magic up some armor and superpowers!" She placed a hand on her chest. "I am planning cool magical armor for everyone who is not a Beetleborg!"

Based solely on his own experience with Star's magic experiments, Marco felt uneasy at her declaration–but stopped short of expressing that concern out loud.

Jackie, Mabel, and Janna on the other hand, were immediately hooked, with Mabel gasping aloud. "Let me help design the armor. LET ME HELP DESIGN THE ARMOR! I HAVE SO MANY IDEAS!"

Jackie was enamored. "Dude, can I have like an ocean theme? There's a thing I wanna do with it!"

Janna hummed, and then chimed in. "I want something dark and cool. Like Raven from Teen Titans–with just as much leg on display."

"Huh," Dipper said, "You'd square up if you had armor?"

"Nah, but I would be there to look good."

Star squealed at the support she had for the effort. "I'm already working on the materials for it. According to the Magic Instruction Book, my Mom has her own armor she wears for battle, so I'm going to ask her where she got the materials from and then grab them myself."

That Marco could comment on. "Is that a good idea? Your Mom might find out what's going on."

Star dismissed it. "Pshaw. All I have to do is tell her that I'm studying at all from the book, and she won't even care about the smaller details. She'll just think I'm being more 'studious and queenly' or something."

Ron chimed in. "It's not too much to ask for something like that for us, would it?"

Kim turned to him. "Wade's already working on something, so it's no big."

At that moment, the Kimmunicator app in Kim's phone chimed and she perked up. "Speaking of…" She pulled her phone out of her pocket and brought it to her ear. "Hey Wade, what's the sitch?"

She paused and brightened even more. "Oh, hey!" She turned towards the gate leading to the driveway. "You're at the right address, come on back!"

Ending the call, she turned to the others. "I thought it was Wade, but it's just our ride."

The gate opened, and the others looked over to see a young man step through. He was tall, almost as tall as Dipper and Mabel, with the physique of a quarterback. He had a handsome face free of the ravages of puberty, slicked back neck-length brown hair, light brown eyes, and wore a blue v-neck sweater and black cargo pants.

Seeing him, Mabel, Jackie, and Star all stopped to stare at the high school heartthrob straight out of a magazine, while Janna raised an eyebrow and Dipper took note of the discrepancy of their reactions.

"Hey," he said as he let the gate close, "So you guys are the monster hunters I heard about, right?"

Kim jumped up from her spot at the table and bounded over to him, before throwing her arms around his neck and hugging him. "Babe!"

The young man laughed as he hugged her back. "Hey, Kim! I'm glad that you're safe." He looked over at Ron and Rufus. "And you guys, too. Wade told me you kicked SSJ and Shego's butts."

"Bro, you know it!" Ron replied as Rufus clasped his paws together and waved them back and forth over his head like a reigning champion.

Smiling up at the young man in adoration. Kim turned to the others. "Since he's here, let me introduce you. This is my boyfriend, Eric."

@@@@@​

In the parking lot of Echo Creek Academy the next morning, the discordant, mediocre tunes of a keytar echoed off the sides of the school and its new sports complex. Sitting on the hood of a beat up 1980s two door coupe was Oskar Greason, a young man in disheveled gray cut-off shorts, purple high-top sneakers, a brown t-shirt, and red bandana. His brown hair covered his eyes as he divided his attention between the electric green keytar he held, and the smartphone that was propped up by its case on the hood of his car beside him.

On the screen of the phone, the interior of a typical all-American suburban home could be seen. On the plain dark gray couch that was normally the center of the universe for such shows, two young African American men in plain suburban clothes were sitting.

The older of the two, in his early twenties, wearing a pair of Ray-Ban sunglasses and having long, tightly braided hair pulled up into a messy upward pointed bunch was sipping a drink. The younger brother, a high-school aged, lean young man with immaculate waves in his short cut and well-styled hair, was staring up at the ceiling of their home.

"So… what happened?" The older of the two asked.

"I asked Melissa to go to the dance with me." The younger brother replied.

"And what happened?"

"She said no–she's already going with somebody."

The older brother lowered his drink and looked at his brother. "With who?"

The younger brother shook his head. "Some foreign guy… I think she said his name was Aintcho Beeswax."

A moment hung as the older brother turned and looked at his despondent brother, the camera closing up to his face and the studio audience rumbling in amusement as he lifted up his Ray-Bans to look at his brother directly.

Oblivious to his brother's stare, the younger man sighed. "How am I gonna beat a foreign dude, man? You know how fresh their drip is."

As the older brother rolled his eyes and the studio audience laughed out loud, Oskar was right there with them, chuckling as he hit three notes on his keytar to make a "Wah, wah, waaah" sound effect.

Still laughing, Oskaar fiddled with those notes, trying to make a song out of them, before another boy walked up to him. "Yo, lil bro."

Oskar stopped and looked at the young man, a sandy-haired caucasian boy wearing–in spite of the already warm morning promising an even hotter day–black jeans, a thick black hoodie with the picture of a mustachioed man in his late 40s wearing a hard hat on its front, and a black baseball cap with a deer skull in the center.

His clothes appeared extremely damp.

Oskar stared at him before replying with a slow surfer-esque drawl. "Hey, sup?"

"You take requests?"

Oskar nodded. "Yeah, sure bro."

"Hotel California?"

Oskar thought about it. "That's like… a grandpa song. I'm more into indie-electro fantasy folk-punk."

The hoodie-wearing boy shrugged his shoulders and walked away. "Aight then, play on brother, play on."

"Word," Oskar said, almost immediately forgetting the encounter happened at all as he resumed playing.

"Oskar Greason!" Principal Skeeves yelled at him from the edge of the sports field. "Knock off that racket! The football team is trying to practice!"

Oskar looked up from his keytar and called back. "You're not my Mom, dude."

Principal Skeeves glowered at the boy, as he began to play the keytar even louder in protest. Beside him, the school's usual blonde-haired, mustachioed janitor turned to the Principal as they resumed walking. "Why do you even let him park car here?" He asked with a thick Slavic accent.

"Because I'm dating his mother," Principal Skeeves replied. "And she'd take my head off if anything happened to him while they're having their 'disagreement.'"

"What is disagreement?" The janitor asked.

"That she's dating his former High School Principal." Principal Skeeves grumbled back as they headed down along the bleachers under the school, where in addition to the sound of Oskar's keytar playing bouncing around, they could hear the echoing cries of crows in a spot up ahead. "Oh great, the crows have gotten to whatever's died back there."

A strange smell had been reported coming from this part of the sports field, just behind the bleachers. With no one willing to go near, it was down to the Principal and the Janitor to resolve the matter.

"Good thing I have gloves and bag, should be enough for a raccoon," the Janitor said before going back to the previous subject. "I did not take you for a dating man."

"It's all in how you play the game, my man," Skeeves boasted.

The janitor got a good long look at the principal. Short, wide, bespectacled, a hairline less receding and more in full rout with a bad combover of a few lines to delay the advance of age in vain. "… It must be pay to win."

Principal Skeeves gave his janitor the hardest possible look. "You're lucky you're the only janitor in this entire state who doesn't mind dealing with Star's messes."

"Mental preparation is key," the Janitor replied before they were stopped by the sudden fluttering of numerous crows startled by their arrival.

The cawing birds flew around them in every direction, scrambling to race into the sky and flee the two men shielding their faces. When the last of the crows fled, the men lowered their arms and looked into the tucked away spot behind the middle of the bleachers.

Both men stood in silent, growing horror at the sight before them. The entire alcove created by the bleachers' metal supports was splattered in dense, bright red blood. It covered the backs of the bleachers, the pillars, and almost every inch of the concrete ground. The stained remains of a human lay strewn in the splatter, the end of a right foot, a bit of organs, and the torn off remains of a skull from the eyes up lay in the mess, along with a set of broken eyeglasses.

At the end of that long, unbroken silence, beholding the gruesome mess in front of them, the Janitor spoke.

"I quit."

= - = 7-EX = - =​

Let the blood flow…

 

[The Ero-Sennin]

Holy crap, folks, we are back with Volume 8. Expect a release every Saturday and Wednesday until the completion of this Volume. Strap in guys, new enemies, new allies, and new question are coming in hot. Brace yourself as the Story of Lies reaches into the past and connects to the present in order to fight for the future.

A special warning: Several chapters of Volume 8 (and for the next several volumes) are set during a time period of extreme racial prejudice and traditionally sexist views towards both men and women. Reader discretion is advised.

= - = 8-1 = - =

|Echo Creek, 1899|​

In 1847, a caravan of California-bound settlers led by Bonson Bonner descended into a valley northeast of Los Angeles following word of another party of California settlers being devastated by poor preparation and a particularly cruel winter while trying to find their fortunes further north. With this decision, some clever dealings, back-stabbings that would make the Northwest family proud, and a battle against some extremely determined marsupials, the settlement of Echo Creek was established.

For the next few decades, Echo Creek would grow and flourish, going from a small settlement to a prosperous rival of neighboring Los Angeles in short order. A pastoral town centered around ranches and vineyards, Echo Creek became known for being a restful retreat for visitors from back east–a place where one could relax and find peace from the hectic world at their own pace.

Then, in 1890, Oil was discovered.

By 1899, the vast stretches of rolling cattle land and rows of vineyards that one could look on from the slopes of the valley were gone–replaced by a forest of oil derricks wreathed in the haze of industry. Echo Creek was all but no more, a cloistered city center surrounded by oil derricks and pipes, siphoning the vast reserves of black gold that lay beneath the Earth.

The nascent Southern California oil boom has made Echo Creek extremely prosperous. But even as wealth is pulled straight from the Earth and into pockets, the ravenous need to overflow every cup has seen the derricks spread–climbing the hills and spreading into the neighboring lowlands and valleys of the San Gabriels. To the remaining farmers and vintners in Echo Creek, the growing industry approaching the edges of their lands is an inevitable progression–heralded by an inexorable force that would sooner see fertile grounds turn to worthless dust if it meant one drop more of the bounty beneath.

Three such heralds stood on the other side of a plain wooden fence separating them from the front yard of a farmhouse overlooking the encroaching forest. In the afternoon heat, the men were dressed in loose white button-down shirts, blue jeans, boots, and wide-brimmed hats iconic of the formerly wild west. The leader of the men, holding a stack of papers in his hand, held them aloft like a flag of truce–displaying it to the man who stood on the porch armed with a double-barrel shotgun.

"Now Mr. Baldwin, there is no need for any of this hostility. We're only here to persuade you to consider the handsome offer that's been presented."

The bare-chested, bearded man on the front porch of his home closed the breech of his loaded shotgun and answered promptly–his voice heavy with contempt. "Handsome offer?! You boys come here demanding I accept not even half of what my pappy paid for this land, just so I can watch my family starve while you oil jockeys get rich?! I'll tell you what, you can take that offer of yours and see if the Devil himself will take it! Then you come back to me!"

The man holding the papers raised his other hand. "Whoa, whoa, whoa…! Hold on there, sir! This does not have to resort to violence!"

"You come past that fence, and I'll have every right to!" Mr. Baldwin raised the shotgun and aimed at the three men, everyone involved aware that at this range all he would have to do is squeeze the triggers of his weapon to solve most of his problems. "I'll leave you right where you fall so the Sheriff knows it!"

The two men accompanying the paper holder went to their left sides. The man to the negotiator's right reached straight down with his left hand, while the man to his left reached across his own front, to shiny revolvers nestled none too snugly in their holsters. Seeing this, the man holding the papers called out. "Hold, damn it!"

He looked back at Mr. Baldwin. "We don't need to start somethin' unavoidable, gentlemen. Cycles of violence happen when you shoot one man, then another man shoots back, and the shooting goes on until something truly tragic happens and a family loses everything."

Mr. Baldwin narrowed his eyes at the negotiator's words, fully understanding their intent.

"This can all be resolved peacefully-like; you can take the offer, we can leave, and we won't have to come back." The man shook the papers again. "It's either that, or these tense and meaningless confrontations keep happening, sir, until someone slips and does something they can't take back."

"I'm plenty firm where I stand," Mr. Baldwin replied. "The only ones here having a problem with slippin' are you boys with the oil on yer shoes and blood on yer hands."

Lowering the papers, the man trying to negotiate realized that terms would not be arrived at so easily. "This is the best deal you're going to get, sir."

Mr. Baldwin's attention shot past the three men and to the path behind them as his opponent drawled on.

"Men with less land than you have made much more agreeing to close, it's a seller's market."

Behind the three men, the voice of a young man called back. "A seller's market? Oh Mr. Hutchinson, do go on."

The men beseeching Mr. Baldwin turned to face a Caucasian man with a dark goatee and mustache calmly stepping off a bicycle and setting it against the fence bordering the path up to the home. In spite of the afternoon heat he was impeccably dressed in a purple suit over an orange vest and a yellow ascot tie with purple top hat. He carried in his hand a cane he slipped from a basket aligned with the legs of the bicycle's front fork. Twirling the cane and setting it down, he began a leisurely stroll to the three men, beckoning them as he did.

"As a matter of fact, I would like an appraisal of my own land while you're in the neighborhood. Because I've heard that you've–" He stopped when he saw Mr. Baldwin on his porch, and recoiled a full step back, his dark eyes widening in amazement.

"My word," the newcomer addressed the man he called Hutchinson, holding the papers. "Are… are you shaking down a white man?"

Hutchinson glowered at the newcomer. "Well, if it isn't the alleged Doctor. This ain't a matter involvin' you, son. Why don't you hop on your fancy bicycle and mosey off to where you came?"

The newcomer shook his head. "I'm afraid I'm here for an appointment. Mrs. Baldwin is several months along and I'm here to perform a weekly checkup."

"The hell you are," Hutchinson replied. "A sane man wouldn't trust a snake like you with a haircut, let alone his wife and child."

The man in purple brought a yellow fingerless-gloved hand to his chest, as though in pain. "Don't besmirch my handiness with a blade either. I've cut plenty handsome heads of hair in my time and guarantee you won't find a closer shave west of the Mississippi or south of Skagway–but I digress."

He gestured past the men to Mr. Baldwin, and then side to side, indicating the farmer's land. "I was under the impression that your employer was more discriminating when it came to land acquisition. Are you genuinely out here going back on what I recall was… your word?"

Hutchinson's glower intensified. "This is strictly business, it's something a new resident like you wouldn't understand."

"Oh, my disciplines are wide and varied, Mr. Hutchinson. I'm no stranger to the 'You and Yours Discount.'"

"You and Yours?" Hutchinson repeated.

"You and Yours. A buyer offers to take the land from you at a lower price than what it's actually worth… one you accept so that nothing happens to you and yours."

He looked to his right, at the derricks off in the distance. "I've lived here in these parts long enough to see it as the standard model of business. Except, it would appear your employer is all out of Mestizo and Tongva to force off their lands, so they've gone after the white growers and herders. I applaud the progressive shift, but it's no less abominable."

Hutchinson's left eye twitched. "Good God man, you talk too much."

The newcomer walked right up to the three men, his lips curved up in an amicable smile. "Sirs, I am a man of confidence, it is my nature to talk a great deal."

Seeing hands moving to revolvers, he stops short and brings up his left in a halting gesture. "With that in mind, I would like to make a counteroffer on behalf of Mr. Baldwin here."

Hutchinson rolled his eyes. "You're no one's representative, Hill–"

It all happened suddenly, explosively. The cane in the newcomer's right hand came up and smashed into the chin of the man on Hutchinson's left. The man on Hutchinson's right reached across for his revolver, but the newcomer took his cane in both hands and bashed him in the jaw with the head of the cane. Hutchinson himself dropped his papers, for the pistol in the shoulder holster he wore, when the glint of sun off steel stayed his hand.

Hutchinson, frozen, looked at the slender, razor-sharp blade connected to the head of the cane and pulled from its shaft to be placed at his throat.

Underneath the brim of the man in purple's top hat, a cold and level voice calmly intoned. "That's Doctor Hillhurst, friend, Doctor Aloysius Hillhurst. Now, you'll pass on the closest shave of your life, Mister Hutchinson, take your men I've dinged good, and leave these fine people alone."

Hutchinson, persuaded by the metal against his jugular and the two men unconscious at his sides, slowly nodded.

Keeping the exposed blade in his cane held to Hutchinson, Dr. Hillhurst pulled from Hutchinson's holster and gave it a look in surprise. It wasn't a revolver, nor was it one of the unmistakable Mausers that were becoming popular back east. It was a black, slide-operated semi-automatic pistol with the magazine stored in the handle.

"Good God man, how much are you being paid to afford a Browning?" He asked in amazement.

Stepping aside, he let the blade slide back into his cane as he disarmed the other two men as they regained consciousness. Keeping his newly acquired Browning pistol held on them, Dr. Hillhurst gestured to them with the gun. "Go on now, be on your way and don't let me find out that your employer has sent anyone else uphill to start pestering people for their homes."
Hutchinson glared at the man, as he and his groggy associates complied, gathering themselves and leaving. "Don't you worry, none! We'll be coming straight for you, Hillhurst! You'll see!"

"That's Doctor Hillhurst!" Dr. Hillhurst called after the three men as they staggered off, towards several horses tied up near the dirt road. Satisfied to see them go, and doubly sure his coat was well-lined with the ammunition of the heavier weapons the men kept on said horses, he turned towards the Baldwin farmhouse.

And stared at the barrels of the Baldwin farmhouse's shotgun.

"… Well."

Mr. Baldwin gestured with a quick upward motion of his barrels. "You'll be on your way, too. I don't need the sympathies of no damn Mexican and Injun lover."

Putting the pistols away, Dr. Hillhurst turned on his heel and strolled away on his cane. "No good deed goes unpunished, I see. Worry not, I have no intention of lingering."

Dr. Hillhurst returned to his bicycle, climbed onto it, and spared the farmer a final look before he rode off. Making sure Hutchinson and his friends were well ahead, he began coasting down the long slope from the verdant hills overlooking Echo Creek and down into the haze of the derrick forest that surrounded the town and stood on every other block.

@@@@@​

"No Saloon! No Saloon! End the sale of Wine and Booze! No Saloon! No Saloon! End the sale of Wine and Booze!"

Dr. Hillhurst could hear them as he rode down Echo Creek's main thoroughfare, the dried and caked dirt leaving a trail of dust behind him. Looking ahead, his hand atop his hat, he frowned when he saw a gathering of women in wealthy-looking dresses of the Victorian style raising white signs lettered with red paint.

They were marching back and forth on the wooden walkway in front of an old Mexican-built saloon, a place he had every intention of visiting after his errands. In front of the town's post office, right next door to the saloon, a small crowd of residents hurled jeers and insults at the protesting women. Across the road from the saloon, more residents pretended to ignore the rabble as they ducked into the town's biggest bank.

Riding wide around the protestors and their detractors, Dr. Hillhurst brought his bike up to a post outside the post office and tied it up securely. Seeing the well-dressed doctor, some of the protestors' opposition broke into cheers and greeted him quite warmly. One man in particular stepped forward, the head of the Echo Creek Post Office.

"Hey, Doc! You know, you treat that bicycle better than most treat their horses!" The middle-aged, rotund man greeted him with a lingering Irish accent as he walked over.

Dusting himself off, Dr. Hillhurst turned to the man. "Afternoon, Harrison, what's the news today?"

Harrison O'Durgeson looked at the crowd of protestors and shook his head. "Oh, the same old. Ms. Bonny's gotten it in her head to have the saloon shut down because it's a 'blight on the community.'"

Dr. Hillhurst looked up at the sunny sky, tinted a light sepia by the faint fumes collecting in the town thanks to the oil derricks in every direction. "Here we all are, choking in the noxious fumes of industrial potential, but the saloon is the blight, of course."

The two men had a laugh and looked on at the protest. At the center of the rabble was a particularly elegant woman dressed more slenderly than her peers, her dark green dress inlaid with crystal accents that made her appear like a peafowl. Indeed, her large hat, protecting her from the shade, sported several large feathers from a peacock, pinned in place by hat pins adorned with pearls and other rare stones.

"Across this great nation, as society moves forward into the next century, the vice of alcohol continues its relentless scourge!" The beautiful, narrow-faced, brown-haired woman declared vocally over the chanting. "It steals husbands and fathers from families, sons from the arms of mothers, and workers from the factories propelling our country!"

She scanned the crowd as she continued. "The moonshiners, brewers, and…" She stopped when she saw Dr. Hillhurst. "… The vintners that profit off the suffering at the hands of alcohol are only one arm of the unholy alliance! The other are the bars and saloons that serve as the middlemen between upstanding men and the temptation of sin!"

Dr. Hillhurst visibly cringed. "And they say I talk too much."

Harrison nudged him. "The lass is looking your way."
"I would much rather lock eyes with a gorgon." Dr. Hillhurst turned away from the protestors. "So, anything in the mail for me?"

Harrison nodded. "As a matter of fact, I was surprised to find a letter addressed to you, my boy, instead of the usual packages."

Dr. Hillhurst was intrigued. "Just a letter?"

Reaching into the dusty brown apron he wore, Harrison pulled out a single envelope and handed it to him. Looking at its face, and finding it indeed addressed to him, Dr. Hillhurst sought the name in the corner and his lips curved downward.

"… Benjamin Wintersmane…"

"Wintersmane?" Harrison was surprised. "Of the Cape Hatteras Wintersmanes?" He gave him a nudge. "Now I'm curious. What business does a scoundrel like you have with a young man of such high society?"

Dr. Hillhurst tucked the letter in his coat. "He and I shot a man in Skagway, just to watch him die."

At the skeptical look Harrison gave him, Dr. Hillhurst broke into a grin. "Truth is, he and I were associates and co-owners of a claim. Though I stayed in Skag to keep anyone from trying to snatch it from under him while he did the real work."

"That sounds more like you." Harrison looked at where the letter had been placed. "So, still in business with him?"

"Afraid not; he sold the claim without so much as a flake and we parted ways soon after."

"Wait, wait–if you didn't make any gold off the claim, then where'd you come up with the money for that land your fancy little château sits upon?"

Waggling his eyebrows, Dr. Hillhurst answered candidly. "I ran a business of separating fools' gold. It was quite lucrative."

Harrison found that confusing. "How'd you…?" At the persistent waggling of the doctor's eyebrows, realization dawned on the postal clerk. "… Ohhh!" He burst into hearty laughter and slapped the doctor's back. "You scoundrel!"

Dr. Hillhurst laughed with the clerk, before he patted his chest where the letter lay. "Well, if this is all, I'm going to stop by Hidalgo's and enjoy a much-deserved meal before I ride back. You're free to join me, old friend."

Harrison chuckled. "You know? That doesn't sound like such a bad idea. He's open now, in fact. We can just go through the back entrance and leave the furies to their wailing."

"I beg your pardon, Mr. O'Durgeson?"

Both men stopped and froze as the crowd of counter-protestors thinned and broke to reveal the woman who'd been making an exhaustive speech about the evils of saloonery.

"Women standing up for a righteous cause aren't furies, or harpies, or whatever slur you're quick to call them."

Harrison gave the woman the side-eye. "Aye, I agree, Ms. Bonny. That's why I'm not."

Dr. Hillhurst nodded. "The man speaks the truth, Ms. Blakesfield-Bonner. We cynics only disparage the ill-intentioned and sinister."

Emily Blakesfield-Bonner's brown eyes narrowed into a contemptuous glower at the sharp-tongue jab thrown without a care in her direction. "A man as well-spoken and intellectual as yourself wastes his gifts on being a poor example to the community."

His shoulders slumping, Dr. Hillhurst leans onto his cane and heaves a weary sigh. "There is a difference between being a patron, and patronizing, Ms. Blakesfield-Bonner. I engage in one, you are a virtuosa in the other."

Harrison's chuckling at the sharp spike in tension between the two was interrupted by the sound of gunfire erupting from inside the bank across the street. As the townspeople looked on, several men in dark clothes with bandana hiding their faces stormed out of the building firing revolvers in the air, and in seconds people were scattering in every direction.

"Damn it all," Dr. Hillhurst exclaimed. "Of all times to do this sort of thing."

Emily gasped and nearly swooned at the sight of the mayhem, while Harrison scrambled for the door of his post office. "Good God, man, get to cover before you get shot!"

The three bank robbers, still shooting into the air, turned from the bank towards the saloon and post office–and the short alleyway between them. One stopped, however, when he saw the well-dressed teetotaler. His eyes, flying wide, burned with rage as he aimed his revolver at her.

In the very instant before he could shoot Emily dead, a whip swung down at high speed and struck the weapon from his hand. As he screamed in pain, the other two robbers turned to look.

A woman emerged from the haze and dust kicked up by the panic. She wore a pink skirt with tassels and matching vest over a magenta-colored shirt with rolled up sleeves, and black boots that came up to her knees. Atop her head, covered in chin-length black gradient colored hair, she wore a pink ten gallon hat with a magenta cheetah-print band around its base. In each hand she carried a pair of long, whips with pink handles that matched her fashion. The one she had used to strike the first bandit twirled through the air above with the deft movements of her right hand, while the whip in her left remained coiled in her grip.

"You boys picked a fine time to rob a bank," the woman in pink declared with a bright but rough voice, "I was on my way to make a deposit."

As the first robber gripped his hand in pain, the other two turned their weapons on the newcomer, who lashed out with the whip in her right hand. The whip, aimed with sharpshooter precision, slapped the revolvers from the hands of both men. As she brought the whip in her right back, she uncoiled and struck with the whip in her left, bringing it up to clock the robber to her left in the side of the head.

The last man quickly tried to reach for a second gun, but the intervening vigilante brought her right-hand whip down and wrapped it around his ankles, bringing them together, while her left-hand whip caught his shoulders and bound his arms together. With a quick tug, she dropped the last man down with a thud.

"Though now I'll be making a dropoff at the jail, too," she quipped before the onlooking townsfolk broke into cheers.

For a bright moment, the chaos brought by the villains and the order restored by the whip-cracking woman brought an end to the divide between the saloon protestors and their detractors. All gathered around her, applauding and praising the woman as she got to rounding up the robbers.

On the outside of the crowd, still in front of the post office, Dr. Hillhurst made an unkind face in the direction of the woman in pink. "Ugh… so tacky."

"You are one to talk," Emily snapped. "You, who wears a mask of civility to fool the unsuspecting into handing over their hard worked for money."

Doc Hillhurst took offense to that. "There you go again, the prima donna of patronizing."

Emily's arrogant glare turned to something baser at his chiding. "You belong in a cell alongside these evil men."

Dr. Hillhurst's heart sank. He looked over at the three men on the ground, being mocked and insulted as the brave vigilante bound them up for carting to jail, and then turned his gaze back to Emily.

"Madam, this misery and evil is not the product of ill minds, but empty stomachs. Offer a man enough to feed him and his, and he'll do whatever is necessary."

He went back over to his bicycle and untied it. Harrison walked over to him, concerned. "What about lunch?"

Climbing onto the bicycle, Dr. Hillhurst turned to his friend. "Good man, I can't bring myself to it. Something ghastly has stolen my appetite."

Harrison yielded. "Take care of yourself. I'll see you tomorrow."

With a nod to Harrison, a quick glance at the heroine of the hour, and an acidic glare for Emily, Dr. Hillhurst pushed off and rode towards the town's limits.

The long ride was hilly and grueling on the rocky dirt path, but it improved immensely as Dr. Hillhurst escaped the forest of derricks and the ever-present miasma that hung around it. As the brown tint faded into the bright vibrance of the world, the young man took a deep breath and let his lungs fill with the clear air rolling off the mountains and valleys towards the distant Pacific Ocean.

As the hilly fields began to transition to rows of trellises overgrown with vibrant grapevines, Dr. Hillhurst reached into his jacket and pulled out the letter sent to him. He looked at the sender's name again, before looking ahead.

"Benny… what have you been up to all this time?" He asked aloud as he crested one more hill and his home came into sight.

It was a simple Victorian style two-story home; painted white with a gray tile roof and surrounded by a matching white fence. The house the ultimate prize for all of his dealings in Skagway, and ironically the source of all his troubles presently.

Still, as he rode past the open gate and up to the front steps, Dr. Hillhurst couldn't be happier to be back at his mansion.

Until he noticed the young man, a boy really, slumped unconscious on his front steps.

= - = 8-1 = - =​

Fun Fact: Echo Creek isn't a real place in Los Angeles, and in canon it takes a bunch of motifs from various parts of LA to make up its own little locale. Against my better judgement, I've put Echo Creek somewhere in LA for the sake of my ability to write this story.

Spoiler: Where Echo Creek is located in Legends

Echo Creek has entirely replaced the city of Pasadena in Los Angeles, thank you. Also don't @ me about all of the earlier geographical errors that may result about this revelation.

 

[The Ero-Sennin]

I know I said Wednesday and Saturday but I didn't have to fly cross country on the last Saturday. Whatever, nevermind. Here we are with the next chapter of Legends Volume 8!

= - = 8-2 = - =

|419|​

The bell ringing outside of its normal time caught the attention of the students of Echo Creek Academy. As all attention was drawn to the PA system speakers in classrooms and hallways throughout the campus, a shaken-sounding Principal Skeeves spoke.

"Attention students; effective immediately all classes and activities for the remainder of the day have been canceled."

In Miss Espinoza's Calculus class, Misao, Heather, and Brittney all looked up in surprise hearing the announcement.

"School buses are on their way, and parents have been notified of the cancellation of classes. All students are instructed to leave the campus and go straight to your homes and not remain on campus following the final bell for any reason, under any circumstances."

In her classroom, Jo leaned back in her chair. "That's weird…"

"Furthermore, all classes will be canceled for the remainder of the week and will resume next Monday. So, pack up your books and start leaving the school, you are all dismissed."

In Miss Skullnick's class, Marco and Roland stared at the PA speaker and looked at one another. The other students present in class looked amongst themselves, murmuring in bemusement at the unexpected and sudden end of classes.

Star Butterfly and Mabel Pines, naturally, took it for what it was.

"SURPRISE VACATION~!" Star sang as she leaped from her desk. She then began to dance, walking in place while thrusting her horizontally held wand out in front of her. "School's out! School's out! Let's shout! It out! School's out! School's out! Let's shout! It out!"

"Ooh! Ooh!" Mabel called out as she stood up and celebrated with her, hands on her knees and twerking her hips while windmilling her hair around.

"Yes, Star, Mabel, your disdain for secondary education is well-known," Miss Skullnick said. "But just because classes are canceled doesn't mean homework is."

Both girls stopped celebrating like they'd just won the lottery, with Star turning to the troll woman in despair. "Miss Skullnick, come on! Be an ally!"

"I am," the teacher replied, "By not giving you kids a chance to slack off. You're to read chapters five and six and answer the review questions at the end of both."

Star collapsed dramatically to her knees. "Noooooooooo!"

Mabel rested a hand on her shoulder, with equal gravitas. "Our freedom was stolen from us…"

Miss Skullnick shook her head. Luckily, she was paid enough to put up with Star, both financially and in the intoxicating power of being a superhuman monster.

Getting up from his desk, Marco called over to both. "It's just two chapters, we can knock that out in a day, and you'll have the rest of the week to yourselves."

"But Marco," Star whined, "Math is hard…!"

Jackie chimed in. "After yesterday, I'll take AP Calculus class with…" She stopped and blinked. "… Miss Espinoza?"

That didn't sound right to say for some reason.

Marco agreed. "Yeah, AP Calc is no joke."

Forgetting how strange that sounded, Jackie smiled at Marco. "Right? I quit after a few classes because of just how intense it was."

She had an idea. "Hey, why don't we hold a study group at the spot?" She was referring to Hillhurst, of course. "Since we have the rest of the day, we can go knock out the homework and then decide what we'll do with the rest of the week."

Mabel gasped. "Good idea! Later on, we can go to the Bounce Lounge–"

Star waved her hand. "Oh, no, we're still banned."

Mabel pouted, then grew even brighter. "We could go to St. O's!"

Star snapped her fingers, making guns of them to point at Mabel. "Now you're talking!"

Roland turned to Marco as Jackie joined Mabel and Star on plotting the rest of their week. "Priorities, right?"

Marco shrugged his shoulders before he looked up towards the PA. "I wonder what's going on."

"Man, I don't know," Roland said, "But Skeeves sounded freaked out."

He didn't even sound worried during or after the fight yesterday, when a whole student got kidnapped off campus by a supervillain that literally blasted her way in.

Marco moved to get out of his seat. "I'm gonna go see what's up."

Roland got up first. "Nah, it's good. I'll go ask around and link up with Jo on the way. See you at the spot."

@@@@@​

In the depths of the Beetle Battle Base beneath Hillhurst Mansion, Andrew McCormick and Dipper Pines stood in front of a box-shaped device the size of a kitchen island, topped with a white glowing glass surface. On the very center of the surface, a Big Bad Beetleborgs comic was placed face up–Issue 99.

"All right," Dipper said as he hit a few buttons on the device's digital console. "Scanning Issue 99."

With a hum the machine began to work. A beam of light the width of the glass surface shot up and crossed the surface from left to right, penetrating the comic and scanning all of the information held within from cover to cover. Reaching the other end of the table, it swept back twice as fast, before repeating the cycle at its initial speed.

As Dipper watched the scanner work, Drew looked to his right over at the main monitors where Misao would normally be seated. On the screen, an image of the monster of the issue appeared–a green robot with red arm-cannons and a pair of missile launchers on its shoulders, the right having two tubes while the left had six. Following that, various pages featuring the Magnavore in action appeared on it before they turned into blocks of text detailing its feats and abilities.

"No melee ability… can roll along the ground at high speed… arm cannons fire energy blasts… right missile launchers are for heavier targets while left missile launchers are for agile targets…" Drew stopped mumbling and nodded. "Yeah, that's all comic accurate for Death Launcher. Wow… it's amazing how this thing can't connect to the net properly but can just read and sort data like this."

"Magic computers, man," Dipper said.

Drew turned to him and smiled. "Think of how many Vs. debates you could win with this thing. I could probably get Jo to shut up over who would win between Batman and Doctor Doom."

Looking up from the console, Dipper had to know. "… Batman would win, right?"

Drew's face fell. "… Dude…"

With an offended look, Dipper grew insistent. "But Batman would win."

Before he could commit to the debate, something he knew he'd regret, Drew's phone buzzing in his pocket came to his rescue.

"Hold that thought." Forever, he hoped, as he pulled out the device and looked at the screen. "Roland's just messaged me."

Roland said:
Hey, m'boy, school just let out and they don't want us coming back until Monday. Something's up. I'll hit you up when I know more.

Drew turned to Dipper. "They just canceled classes for the rest of the week."

That gave Dipper pause. "Why?"

Not even the fallout of Shego and some monsters attacking the school earned a day off.

Drew shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know, but Roland said he'd look into it."

There was nothing to do but wait, then. Dipper was fine with that. "All right , so we're at 99 now, how many comics do we have left to scan? And how many are we missing?"

Drew turned and started sifting through the piles of comics. "Of every comic I have, the only ones I don't are Issues 60, 100, and issues 108 through 120."

Dipper couldn't help but snicker. "That's not bad, all thinks considered. Why do you have such a big gap in your collection?"

"Issues 108 through 120 were movie tie-in issues for the tenth anniversary, and they're a lot rarer than most because the movie never materialized in 2000. I don't have Issue 100 because that's the hundredth issue milestone, and I don't have Issue 60 because that's the five-year anniversary and the anniversary copies don't get reissued."

He noticed Dipper was grinning at him and rolled his eyes. "Go ahead."

"… What about Issue 69?" Dipper asked.

He knew it. "Ugh! Look, there is no Issue 69. Art Fortunes says he didn't want people collecting it just because it was Issue 69, so he skipped 68 to 70 and even said back then that he was using that time to take a break from drawing."

That was kind of lame, Dipper thought. He'd actually kind of hoped there'd be some kind of mature edition for number 69, but oh well. "Is there a way we could get those anniversary comics, and the movie tie-ins?"

"Sure, Nano has them, she lets us borrow the rares to read like all the time." He looked off to the side pouting as he grumbled. "But won't give a discount for actually buying them. Hmph."

That gave Dipper an idea. "You know, we do have two exceedingly generous and unfathomably wealthy friends now, right?"

Drew stopped pouting, as he realized that. "… Huh, we do."

"When we all meet up, we'll talk to Misao about buying up those rares."

Breaking into a smile, Drew could not wait. "Hopefully she'll say yes."

He looked down at the pile of yet to be scanned books, and saw Issue 137, featuring Saberizer on the cover. His smile dimming, he looked up at Dipper. "Hey, should we include comics with monsters we've already beaten?"

"We may as well, just in case they come back or something, somehow," Dipper replied.

His battle with Saberizer crept up in his memory, as Drew conceded. "If you say so," he replied as he set aside the comic to maintain the order. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Is it why do I think Batman would beat Dr. Doom? Because I have a PowerPoint."

Drew was confident he didn't. "No, it's about the real Magnavores."

Dipper was glad Drew didn't call his bluff, because he didn't have a PowerPoint ready outside of his head… yet. He had a whole week to work on one, at least. "What's on your mind?"

"You've noticed how different Jara, Typhus, and Noxic are from the comics, right? How they don't act like, well… comic book villains."

An interesting question, Dipper wondered where Drew was going with this thought. "They're definitely not out to backstab each other, that's for sure. They also seem to be… I guess for lack of a better term sociable?"

"Except for Jara," Drew quickly said.

"Yeah, except for Jara," Dipper agreed. He wasn't about let Drew know that he found Jara aesthetically pleasing though, body shape and physique-wise. "Typhus especially seems like he's just out there to have fun."

"And both times he's fought at the school, he was courteous enough to back off and leave when Miss Skullnick told him to."

Dipper wondered if that was more because Miss Skullnick was actually that powerful. He'd have to ask Star or Marco about that. "You think there's something there?"

"I don't know," Drew admitted. "Maybe I'm seeing things… but what if there's, I don't know… humanity there?"

It stuck out so sorely with him, Jara's reaction to Saberizer's defeat. "And I'm not just talking about them being almost friendly. When I beat Saberizer… Jara came at us like she did after because she was distraught. Then yesterday, she definitely gunned for me because of it."

"So, you think they might have some kind of decency deep down, because they care about each other, and their minions?" When Drew nodded affirmative, Dipper mulled on that. "That would certainly put the Magnavores higher up than Bill. At the same time though… I doubt we could do much with that. If they do actually have feelings like that, then they all must definitely hate us for beating them up and killing their guys."

Drew visibly flinched but didn't outright cringe. "Maybe there's something we can do about it… but I'm not sure how to approach it."

Letting out a hum, Dipper nodded. "You're hoping for a peaceful resolution, huh?"

"I'd like that, yeah."

Dipper wondered if Drew feared a negative response. "Yeah, I'd like one, too." Seeing the tension bleed from him confirmed it. "These guys are from the Nightmare Realm, though, the same place a needy, whiny, insane triangle who decided to make his issues everyone's problem came from."

On top of that, he added. "Also, while the three of them seem like they might be cool. We don't really know much about Vexor or what his biz is. For all we know he could catch wind of us trying to hug it out and pull some stunt to take advantage of it."

Very good points, Drew agreed. "So, we should be cautious, but optimistic?" At Dipper's nod, he smiled. "I was worried you'd be more against this."

"Are you kidding? Between my Grunkle Stan, Mabel, and Pacifica Northwest, I'm firmly a believer that people can change for the better–we can't count them all out."

"Even the Vanderhoffs?"

Dipper immediately backtracked. "Okay, there are some cases that are really just rotten to the core and beyond redemption."

Both boys had a chuckle at that, before Drew finally got a message from Roland.

Roland said:
Nah, whatever is going on has got Skeeves FREAKED. I just got yelled at to leave school or I'm eating a suspension.

Drew didn't like that. "Principal Skeeves told Roland to leave or he's getting suspended."

Dipper didn't like that. "… And now I have a bad feeling. One sec."

Leaving the scanner to run, Dipper went to the main console and began typing away on the keyboard. The window showing the Combat Mecha Death Launcher disappeared and multiple windows appeared in its place. The largest of the maps was a static map of Echo Creek Academy and its surrounding neighborhood, while the others were text transcripts of police radio chatter, with indicators connecting the windows to emergency service units at or approaching the school.

"That's… a bigger police response than both the fights at school," Dipper said in surprise.

Drew walked over staring at the screen. "… What's going on?"

Dipper read some of the codes popping up in the transcripts. "419, 10-2…" He stopped and frowned. "Wait, 419?"

Drew turned to him. "What's 419?"

"That's… 'dead body reported.'" Dipper's face hardened. "10-2 also means no lights or sirens."

The revelation was startling. "Where did the body come from?"

Dipper shook his head. "I don't know, but I have a very bad feeling about this."

A dead body could mean anything, but there had been three battles with the Magnavores at Echo Creek Academy within a week. All of them were violent enough that a dead body could not be ignored at the scene of them.

"There's a good chance the police will pay us visits… Mabel and I maybe, Star and Marco definitely."

"Should we tell them what's going on?"

"No, we can talk about that when everybody meets up here. Tell the group chat to come to Hillhurst however they can, and to not draw attention."

Drew couldn't help it. "Ask your sister, my sister, and Star not to draw attention–"

Dipper rolled his eyes. "Yeah, I realized just as I was saying it."

@@@@@​

The buses had arrived, and both teachers and students who had cars were making their way out of the school's parking lot, creating a bit of a traffic snarl where the school's driveway met the street. At the front of Echo Creek Academy, Marco, Jackie, Mabel, and Star were heading down the sidewalk towards their bus, watching the chaotic scene.

"Even teachers are leaving," Mabel said. "They want everybody gone."

Star rested her hands on Marco's shoulders. "We're going to get the homework done today, right? There's so much I wanna do! I want to hang out with Pony Head, stay up late watching cartoons, spar with Jackie–"

"Work on that magical armor you talked about?" Marco asked.

"Oh yeah, that too!" Star quickly said.

Marco wanted to be there to supervise that. "Yeah, we can do the homework as soon as we get to Hillhurst."

He looked at Jackie. "You're a math whiz, too. You got my back?"

"Dude, of course!" Jackie looked back and noticed Misao hurrying towards them. "In fact, Star and Mabel, you've got three math geniuses to help get the homework done."

Misao reached the group and immediately caught Mabel in a hug. "What is happening? There wasn't even a monster!"

Star looked back at Misao as Mabel patted the new arrival's head. "Do not look a gift warnicorn in the mouth, you don't want to get your face bitten off."

"I just started my own classes," Misao lamented. "Can I have one normal school day?"

"You're asking for too much," Marco said.

Misao pouted. "I know, but still… I was having fun! I don't know why everyone is so afraid of Miss Espinoza."

"I'm thinking about going back if you're there," Jackie said to Star's chagrin.

"Jackie, no! Don't fall for Calculus' seductive wails!"

The simultaneous rings of everyone's phones called their attention to their devices. Marco, Star, Jackie, Mabel, and Misao all produced their phones to see a message from Drew.

Dr00 said:
Something weird's going on, everybody meet up at Hillhurst ASAP.

"And there's Dipper," Mabel said.

Marco was worried. "I wonder what he's figured out." He looked back toward the school. "Or what Roland found out for that matter."

Star pulled out the Dimensional Scissors. "Well, we should go straight there, right? Jo and Roland will catch up."

Before anyone could agree, a car horn honked repeatedly, drawing everyone's attention to a cranberry-colored minivan parked waiting in the school's drop-off lane. Inside the driver's seat, a woman was waving and calling to them.

"Miss Darlian! Reiko hired me to give you a ride!" She called out. "Don't use the scissors, hurry up and get in!"

Any concern that this stranger wasn't legit disappeared as Misao quickly hurried to the van. One by one, Marco, Star, Jackie, and then Mabel climbed into the van, Marco taking the front seat while the girls piled into the back. As soon as they climbed in and the door started sliding closed, the driver put the van in drive and pulled out of the pickup lane.

"Danke schön," Misao thanked the woman. "We didn't need the ride, but it we're grateful nonetheless."

Mabel leaned in to get a good look at the woman. "Yeah, it's nice of you to show up but um… how'd you know to be here?"

The woman, who had dark red hair and eyes a darker shade of the same color, and in general reminded all of them of an older Kim Possible, pointed to the Police Scanner radio on her dashboard. "The police are coming to the school, and I think the press will be close behind them."

Naturally, the mention of police had the teens alert. "Why are the police coming?"

"I could not tell you, but it sounds serious," the woman said. "As your Fixer assigned to you by Hyuuga Heavy Industries, it's my job to make sure if any law enforcement contacts you, it's through me." At a stop sign she looked back at the group. "My name's Elise Dinkleman, and I'm with HHI's American Legal Department."

Jackie brightened. "Oh, wow! Our own lawyer!"

"Not just any lawyer, a Fixer!" Mabel said. "Our own under the table problem solver who gives us peace of mind when dealing with stuff we can't! My Grunkle Stan always dreamed of having one at the Mystery Shack, but Soos was too sweet, and Wendy was too indiscriminate with her violence."

Elise nodded as she left the stop sign. "That's about right, a Fixer can't be too nice, but they can't be a hammer treating every problem like a nail."

"Ugh," Star groaned, recalling Hammer Kong.

Jackie asked. "So, besides being our legal team, what else can you do for us?"

"As long as it's not something trivial like grabbing you Britta's–I'm not your servant–or killing a guy–I'm not a hitman–the things I can do for you are pretty broad. You need someone investigated, you need info on something behind a layer of clearance or two, or you just need some fine print on a contract read? I'm your woman."

She patted the steering wheel. "I'm a pretty good wheelman, too, and I drive non-descript vehicles that don't stand out too much in a line of traffic."

Star leaned in. "Man, we could've used you while dealing with the Vanderhoffs."

Elise pointed back at Star. "Exactly. I handle people like that by showing up at their door and telling them that they'll be in a world of legal pain if they don't stop their crap. HHI does not care how much money you got."

As they pulled up to the intersection leading to Echo Creek's main street, Marco pointed to the left. "Turn here, we're going to Hillhurst Mansion."

"I was told that creepy spot was your hideout," Elise said as she made the turn. "When I was a teenager, I was dared to go inside and have a look around, but I chickened out."

"Oh, you're local?" Marco asked.

"Not from Echo Creek, I'm from Van Nuys, like thirty minutes away, right next to North Hollywood."

Jackie made a face. "Eugh, North Hollywood…"

"What's wrong with North Hollywood?" Elise asked.

"You know exactly what's wrong with North Hollywood," Jackie replied.

Star looked back and forth between the two. "Is it as bad as Glendale?"

"No!" Both said together, before Elise clarified. "Let's be honest, all of North LA is screwed, now with Echo Creek being full of weirdness, too."

Mabel and Misao, who were not from LA, had new questions. Marco, who was from LA, also had questions.

The first one came up right away. "So how much of what we're involved in have you been told? Because Dipper is going to ask when he meets you."

"I have been briefed on everything by Reiko, including your association with the Big Bad Beetleborgs. Try not to surprise me too much, okay?" She asked.

Misao spoke up. "You're sworn to Attorney Client Privilege, then, when you learn their identities."

"Naturally, Miss Darlian," Elise replied.

The group chat buzzed again, and Marco looked at his phone.

Jo said:
Hey, not to alarm anyone, but the police are swarming all over Brittney's little sports complex and a van marked Coroner just pulled in to go to the back. This might be bad.

As Marco read the message, Drew responded.

Dr00 said:
Meet with Roland and get to Hillhurst. We'll talk about it there.

"Oh…" Marco did not like that as he began to text back. "We might be in trouble."

Marco said:
Star, Jackie, Mabel, Misao, and I are on our way. HHI sent a lawyer to pick us up and they're bringing us to the Mansion.

Dr00 said:
Wait, we have a lawyer, now?

Janna Banana said:
Sweet, a Fixer.

Dr00 said:
A what ?_?

Marco lowered his phone and looked back at the others as they reviewed the group chat.

"The Coroner?" Jackie asked. "Did somebody die?"

"We were all in class, there are witnesses," Mabel said.

Misao frowned. "What if it was from yesterday? Maybe Señor Senior Junior's robots attacked someone?"

"Somebody would've noticed that." Jackie said, concern creeping into her voice. "Right?"

Star held her hand up. "I fixed the school up just this morning before class, remember? If anybody had gotten hurt yesterday, Marco and I would've found it then."

Marco was as shaken as Jackie. "Yeah, but that doesn't change that the school has been involved in three violent attacks and now there might be a dead body. We're going to be the first people they ask about it. Well, us and not the Beetleborgs."

Mabel sank into her seat. "Ugh, this sucks."

She looked at Elise. "Well, at least we got a lawyer."

"One that's going to keep you out of trouble with this one," Elise promised.

Her passengers shared looks tinted with varying levels of concern. All agreed that this was a serious situation, now, and worried about how this was going to turn out.

= - = 8-2 = - =​

Crime is afoot, I'm sure it's not something that will become an immense problem later.

 

[The Ero-Sennin]

The first of many.

But I digress. Let's get back on schedule!

= - = 8-3 = - =

|The Dragonslayer|​

The world was aflame.

Bright pink fire scorched the earth, boiled the seas, and even clung to clouds–eating away at them. The blaze spread out in every direction, rolling like the swells of a raging sea. Above the intense firestorm, sleek delta-winged police craft with front-facing windows and blue and red spinning lights atop their hulls braved the heat as they headed towards the center of the inferno where a titanic being stood.

It was a feminine figure, neon pink in color with short magenta hair. Her face was grotesque, dominated by a large-lipped mouth filled with massive, jagged teeth, and she sported two sets of horns, three going straight down the top of her head to the back, and two massive ones that curved up and then out from the sides. Her limbs from her upper arms and thighs down were made of fire, and she wore a red cape and red high-heel shoes.

In spite of the tremendous flames that her body generated, keeping the police craft from getting too close, the monstrous creature was in no good shape, holding her limp left arm as she looked back at the police craft in defiant contempt.

From the vehicles, a commanding voice of authority spoke. "Pyronica, there's nowhere left for you to run. Surrender now and this doesn't have to get worse than it already is for you!"

Her eye narrowing and starting to glow, the fiery being Pyronica let go of her left arm and pointed her right hand at the cops. "I've said it before and I'll say it again! You'll never take me alive, copper!"

"Suit yourself," the voice said. "And by the way, we're Titanium not copper. We learned our lesson from the last time!"

Pyronica lowered her hand slightly. "… Crap."

"But we're the least of your problems."

Pyronica's eye flew wide, when she saw the glint of metal moving extremely fast through the air above the flames she created. She barely had time to throw her injured left arm up before something crashed hard into it, the blow knocking the fiery monster off her feet and sending her crashing onto her backside against a hill.

Letting her arm fall to her side, a large gash cut into it, Pyronica sat up and stared with a mix of anger and panic at her attacker. It was a much smaller creature, human sized, adorned in gold-trimmed black armor with helmet, gauntlets, cuisses, and greaves made of a polished black bone and a chestplate fashioned from the head of a red-eyed black dragon. The armor was completed with a black and red cape that unfolded out into a pair of draconic wings keeping Pyronica's attacker aloft.

"You pigs must be really desperate," Pyronica sneered, "If you're contracting out to scum like Dragonslayer Barla!"

Barla, a seemingly human-appearing woman beneath the armor, smirked in amusement at Pyronica. "You really aren't so tough without Bill Cipher to hide behind, are you?"

She thrust her right hand forward and a stream of fire shot towards the armored warrior. "I'm tougher than you, skank!"

Barla threw herself into the flames, diving through and scattering them away before swinging her sword and cutting down Pyronica's arm from palm to shoulder in an instant. As the fiery monster screamed in pain, Barla circled around her back and then dove for her other shoulder.

"Where are the rest of your Henchfriends, Pyronica?! Was Cipher really the glue that held you weaklings together?!" She taunted as she closed in, before swinging her sword and cutting off Pyronica's already injured left arm at the shoulder.

Roaring in pain, Pyronica clenched her teeth as the row of horns down the back of her head lit up bright pink before the same light appeared in her horns. A tremendous blast of pink light shot from her sole eye, focusing from a pink ray of fire into a bright blue laser as she tried to kill Barla with a look.

"You're the last person in the whole Nightmare realm to be calling anyone weak! Fight me without that armor, and then see how weak I am!" The flame monster screamed as she fired her laser.

Barla was a blur, leaving trailing afterimages behind herself that Pyronica's laser slashed apart before she reached the monster's face and kicked her in her large lips. With a shriek, Pyronica was thrown back and crashed into the ground so hard her laser cut out.

Groaning, Pyronica focused her vision on Barla, who glowered down at her with far less amusement than before.

"Why would I take this armor off for someone as wretched as you?" She asked as the mouth of the dragon head that made up her chest plate opened. "You're not even that hot."

Pyronica was offended as a yellow glow began to shine from the dragon's mouth. "Oh screw you, I'm at least an eight!"

Barla rolled her eyes as the glow grew brighter. "Eh, six and ha–"

The glow vanished, Barla with it.

Pyronica stared at the spot in the burning sky where Barla had been, then looked around. There was no sign of "The Dragonslayer" anywhere. "Uhh… what just happened?"

She then noticed the sky around her was filled with dozens, if not hundreds, of police craft. All of them training weapons on her.

Looking at her injured state, and then at the cops, Pyronica bowed her head down.

"Darn it, Bill, why'd you have to go and die like a chump?"

@@@@@​

The searing heat of a burning sky was replaced by the relatively cool, stale air of the Magnavore's mausoleum lair for Barla, as she landed in a heap at the foot of its central sarcophagus. Her cape falling limp down her back after losing its dragon-wing shape, the armor-adorned woman coughed several times as she expelled superheated gas from her lungs and adjusted to a different air, temperature, and gravity.

"What…?! Where…?!" Barla demanded as she looked up, and the first thing she saw was Vexor staring down at her, surprised.

"It truly is the armor of a–" Vexor was cut off when Barla gripped her sword and leaped for him.

"Vexor G!" She roared, swinging her sword down–only for it to clash against Jara's blade as the Magnavore General intervened.

"Barla!" Jara called out. "Stay your blade!"

Seeing Jara, Barla's eyes flew wide before she jumped back, like she'd seen a ghost.

Keeping her sword pointed at her for a moment, she lowered it slowly, her surprise all over her attractive face. "… Ja-Jara…? Is that you?"

Jara lowered her weapon with the same slowness. "It's been a long time, Barla, I see you've been taking care of the armor I made for you."

A long tense moment passed between the two, before the sword in Barla's hand vanished in a flash of black flame. Letting out a squeal of joy, she threw herself at Jara, meeting her with a hug that the red-wearing Mercenary General enthusiastically returned.

"It really is you!" Barla said as she held Jara tightly. "I've lost count of the years since we last met!"

"It has been too long, too long," Jara said as she patted Barla's back. Taking her by the shoulders, she stepped back. "You've gotten stronger since I last saw you."

"You as well," Barla said before she looked at Vexor and grew suspicious. "But what are you doing working for him?"

Jara let out a grunt. "He is a long-term client. He is also why we are both no longer stuck in the Nightmare Realm."

Barla stepped back in surprise. "Wait, this is not the Nightmare Realm?"

"Correct; somehow through Cipher's trickery we were able to escape."

Vexor chimed in. "I am in the process of learning how this came to be–and also conquering this world, which is where you come in."

Barla scowled at Vexor. "Conquering this world?"

"Of course," Vexor said, "The Magnavore Tribe's mission is to rule the stars: Whether they burn here or scream there."

Jara turned to Barla. "As far as clients go, I personally would not call him the best." She looked back at Vexor pointedly before returning her gaze to her. "But by us coming here, he's certainly provided more than any prior."

She reached out and took Barla's hands. "And once we understand how we were able to escape the Nightmare Realm, we can bring the others as well. Zaiking, Illuba, Gorgodal, and Hidra… we could all be reunited!"

Barla liked the sound of that but noticed a name missing. "And Saberizer, as well."

Jara fell quiet, tense, and Barla's eyes slowly widened. "… Oh."

Vexor cut in. "But before we can discuss such reunions, we must focus on the business at hand. Barla, Jara speaks highly of you not only as a powerful warrior, but as a skillful commander and tactician. The Magnavores need a leader in the field to command our forces and strike against our powerful enemies."

Barla once more scowled at Vexor. "I see."

Jara moved, taking Barla by the shoulder. "Vexor, I will bring Barla up to speed. For now, I believe you had research to attend to?"

Sensing the tension in the air, Vexor conceded to Jara's request with a gesture of his right hand. "Very well, I will leave orientation to you. After all, this operation is yours to command overall."

Jara nodded, and both women vanished in a burst of flame. Turning away from where they stood, Vexor summoned to his hand a new book: a biography on Art Fortunes. He opened to the page he left off at and resumed reading.

Both Jara and Barla appeared atop one of the many indistinct piles of metal scrap surrounding Noxic's workshop. The compound was now a hive of activity, with many scabs working to finish all of the workshop's facilities. Noting it, Barla directed her full attention to Jara.

She was unhappy, they both were. "Jara… why are you working for that self-important, chitinous slime?!"

"It is not a simple answer," Jara replied. "But the shortest way I can explain is there is a debt owed that I have yet to repay."

One she did not want to divulge, Barla respected Jara to not press for details, but stuck to the point. "Regardless of your reasons, he is still a criminal. One who wishes he could be as much a terror as Cipher, Nukus, or Vilor–"

Jara huffed. "You have been doing work for law enforcement in our time apart, haven't you?"

"And?" Barla asked. "It is good money. In fact, before you summoned me here, I was putting another of Bill Cipher's 'Henchmaniacs' away. It was Pyronica."

Jara was impressed. "Who else did you capture?"

"Keyhole, 8-Ball, and Hectorgon. I made sure to capture them first because they could break out the others."

Jara nodded. "Pragmatic as always."

"Do not change the subject, however–"

"I am making a point!" Jara cut her off. "You are not a cop, Barla, you are a warrior. We are beholden not to law or lords but to the battlefield, and to those who we call comrades."

"So is Vexor a comrade?" Barla snapped back at her.

"He is a client," Jara snarled in turn, "No more and no less."

Barla remained tense, glowering at Jara, and reluctantly yielded to her friend and superior. She had more pressing questions anyway. "What happened to Saberizer?"

Jara tightened her hands into fists. "Saberizer fell in battle here, only days ago."

She knew something had happened, but still hearing it shocked Barla into stunned silence. This was a tremendous loss for Jara, and after escaping the Nightmare Realm, too. "How can it be possible, are the warriors of this world that powerful–?"

"They are…!" Jara stopped herself from exploding at Barla and pulled back her wrath. "… Children armed with powerful weapons. It is a game of pretend to them, playing hero and treating us like we're villains in their fantasies."

Reaching out she grabbed Barla by her shoulders. "That is why we need you, Barla! To show them that it is not a children's game that they can go home after, that there are no rules or safe zones, that this is war, and we are warriors!"

The mask concealed her face, but Barla didn't need to see it. She felt Jara's emotion in her words, and how she gripped her shoulders. Her frown deepened into a scowl, as she nodded. "I understand. Which one killed Saberizer specifically?"

Jara's tension eased, and she nodded. "I will explain the enemy we're facing in detail. Right now, I should introduce you to my fellow comrades under Vexor."

Barla tilted her head. "Oh? These are comrades?"

Jara turned and looked over the edge of the scrap heap they stood on. Down on the ground, both Typhus and Noxic waited patiently.

"So…" Noxic said. "You gonna introduce us, or am I gonna have to make increasingly rude and offensive guesses?"

Barla stared at the two other Magnavore Generals, then turned to Jara. It bore repeating. "These are comrades?"

"Hey, I don't know what anyone's told you, but Typhus, me, and Jara are the best buds you'll ever meet!" Noxic called back up.

"Yeah, we roll deep! Ride or die, baby!" Typhus proudly added.

Barla had concerns. "Jara… what have you gotten into?"

"In spite of all appearances, they are good friends," Jara reassured her, before calling down to them. "This is Barla, one of my comrades from my Mercenary Army."

At that, Noxic's tone changed. "Whoa, hey! Another Mercenary badass? Well, shoot, a friend of Jara's is a friend of mine. Welcome to the team, Barley!"

"Barla," Jara corrected.

"What did I say?" Noxic asked.

Typhus, ever the gentleman, patted Noxic on the shoulder and threw some more reassurance Barla's way. "Hey, don't worry about this guy. He always messes with the new guys on the team."

"They don't gotta be new," Noxic corrected.

"Yeah, well, still don't worry about him. Noxic's the coolest."

"Cooler than cool!" Noxic boasted.

"This guy's buildin' our army, how cool is that?" Typhus gestured back to the many Scabs constructing the workshop, and when Barla actually saw the machines at work she was impressed.

"They're a buncha mooks, but even a mook can be a problem with the right orders," Noxic said. "With you and Jara callin' the shots, we might actually beat down them Beetlebums, and their friends!"

Finally, a name for their enemy. "Beetles…?"

"I said I'll explain it more in depth," Jara said, before she looked back towards her comrades. "And since we're all here… there's no time better than now."

With that she stepped to the edge of the pile. "I will tell you what we are up against, our plan for defeating them, and your role in it."

@@@@@​

"A dead body was found behind the school, in a hidden off spot behind the bleachers of the new sports field right near one of the back entrances of the school. From what Drew and I overheard on the Beetle Battle Base's police scanner, it was really, really messy."

With Roland and Jo's arrival at Hillhurst, the group plus their new legal representation were gathered on the front porch of the mansion. Jo and Janna both cast her side-eye looks but otherwise treated her presence as a non-threat while the discussion of this morning's events continued.

"Like I was saying on our way here," Marco said, "The police are going to ask if we know anything about this."

"Which we don't," Jo said. "None of us were in the back of the school during any of the fights since last week."

Mabel asked. "Could it have been someone attacked by SSJ's robots?"

Dipper shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know. When you guys were fighting them, did they look like they'd been… used?"

Marco, Jackie and Star all shook their heads. None could recall seeing any signs of blood splatter on any of the Fenrir they fought.

"They'll probably be asking him and Shego questions about it, too," Drew said. "What are we going to do about this?"

Dipper shook his head. "There's no we, here. You, Roland, and Jo gotta start staying even further away from us in public."

"Man's right," Roland said. "The heat just jumped up a bunch, m'boy."

Jo pouted. "This means we can't be seen associating even at Zoom, because unlike in the comics people can rub two brain cells together."

"Most of the time," Dipper said.

Mabel was even more reassuring. "You'd be surprised what dots people don't connect."

"Yeah, but see how long it takes for Nano to put it together, cuh," Roland pointed out.

Dipper and Mabel both stared blankly at Roland. "There's no way Nano doesn't know you're the Beetleborgs." They said in unison.

Roland stopped. "Damn, you right."

Janna smirked at Drew. "Looks like you'll have to sneak over if you wanna hang out, Sad Kid. Don't worry, I'll leave my bedroom window unlocked."

Drew did a quick double-take. "What?"

Star leaned closer to Marco and whispered. "She's not being subtle anymore."

"No, she's not," he whispered back.

He looked to the others and asked the important question. "Besides doing our best to not be incriminating… what are we going to do about this?"

Elise looked up from where she stood off the porch. "May I suggest nothing?"

When they all looked at her, she continued. "Unless a monster is actually responsible for this, I advise you stay as far away from this case as possible. Leave it to the police to investigate, and for me to tell them that you're not involved if they come to question you."

She looked back and forth between them. "Besides that, under no circumstances are you to talk to the police by yourselves, nor are your families. When they come to speak with you and I'm not around, don't say anything at all, not even a yes or no. Just tell them to speak to your lawyer, me."

She reached into her pocket and offered a stack of cards that Mabel reached out to take from her. "Give them these so they can contact me."

Janna nodded in agreement as she took a card from Mabel. "Don't talk to the pigs. So, what I already do when they bother me."

"How often does that happen?" Drew asked.

"I'm very good at it. I haven't seen the inside of a station yet."

"Better than us," Mabel said. "We spent a week in county."

"Nice," Janna praised, finger guns and all.

Dipper hummed. "I still don't know what Soos did to get those charges dropped."

Jo was displeased. "So… we're not going to investigate a possible murder? One that might've happened while we were otherwise preoccupied, or worse… happened indirectly because of our actions?"

Drew felt tension creep through him at Jo's observation.

"Yes, that's exactly what you need to do," Elise said before addressing the Beetleborgs directly. "Even with your identities still secret, coming near something like this will put you on Authorities' radar. If you get associated with this as the Beetleborgs, the cops will want to know who you are under the helmets to find out why you're so invested."

Roland nodded in agreement. "We gotta stay in our lane: Fight the Magnavores and save the universe from the Nightmare Realm. Leave the street level crap for the street level peeps."

Drew wasn't so sure about that, and as he looked at Jo he could see she wasn't either. They seemed to be the odd ones out, though, as everyone else exchanged nods of agreement.

"Fräulein Elise," Misao began.

"Ah, just Fräu," Elise corrected.

"My mistake," Misao bowed her head in apology, before making her request. "Can you gather as much information for us as you can, please?"

Elise smiled. "Of course, this is exactly what I'm here for."

Drew took a deep breath but kept his concerns to himself. He decided he'd talk to Jo about it later and come on to a consensus with her about what they should do. Steering clear of something like this just didn't sit right with him at all.

"Besides that, do you guys need anything? Want anything?"

Marco had an idea. "Can you go to my parents and tell them what's going on?"

"Of course, I'll swing by your place on the way into town." She nodded to the Pines. "I've already spoken to your Grandfather."

Dipper nodded back to her. "Thanks." He turned to address everyone. "I don't like this, and I get the vibe that some of you like this less." He looked at both Drew and Jo. "But most of us like dealing with cops even less than that."

"Preach," Janna and Jackie said in unison.

"So yeah, until this becomes something we can't ignore, we're staying as far away from this as possible."

"Fine by me," Star said. "Cops are kinda lame."

"I wanted to be a cop when I was in middle school," Marco muttered.

"But now you don't, which is good!" Star said, before pecking him on the cheek. "Because I'd never date a bootlicker."

"Same!" Janna and Jackie said together once more.

"In the meantime, we have our own crisis to worry about," Dipper continued. "We need to start figuring out a few things about the Magnavores. Like where they're hiding, what they're planning to do next, and what their connection to Art Fortunes is."

He looked at Hillhurst Mansion. "We also have to figure out why Flabber is the one who made them coming into our world possible in the first place, and why there are monsters even living here at all."

Star spoke up. "Yes! We also need to get better weapons and armor! In fact, if not for the distraction of homework, I'd be getting that done right now!"

Dipper knew what she was getting at but took the bait anyway. "What is it, math? I'll do it for you, just give me your book and which chapter."

"Do mine, too!" Mabel quickly said.

"Sure."

This annoyed Marco. "Hey! Don't cheat for them!"

Dipper didn't like upsetting Marco, but… "We have a week to ourselves, Marco. Just let Star have this so next time we fight no one gets ragdolled like we did by that Goblin kid."

Marco grimaced, before remembering they had a lawyer. "Say, Ms. Elise?"

Elise looked over at him. "Yes?"

"There's somebody else I wouldn't mind you looking into…"

|= - = 8-3 = - =|​

Barla was one of those villains from Juukou B-Fighter who couldn't be adapted into Big Bad Beetleborgs. If you see the episode she appears in, you'd see why. Still fanfiction has no such limitations, so Barla the Dragonslayer is our enemy of the arc.

 

[The Ero-Sennin]

And we're back on schedule fully! See you on Saturday.

|= - = 8-4 = - =|

|Wolfy's Room|​

As the Beetleborgs and their allies concluded their meeting on the front porch of Hillhurst Mansion, Mums stood by the window, just out of sight with his head as close to the glass as possible. Just a few feet away, Fangula and Frankenbeans watched with quiet anticipation as they waited for Mums to report. Even further away, by the organ, Flabber floated upside down with his arms and legs crossed, exchanging side-eyes with the Pipe-ettes when not glowering at the eavesdroppers.

"What are they talking about, Mums?" Fangula stage whispered to the mummy.

Mums gestured for Fangula to be quiet. "I'm trying to listen!"

"I wanna know!" Frankenbeans yelled out.

Mums gestured wildly for quiet. "I can't listen if you're being loud!"

"Can you at least tell me if that woman is coming in? I'm starving!" Fangula yelled. "And I'm fairly certain I can have a bite from her without getting weird looks from the rest of you!"

Flabber interjected. "Fangs, you will always get weird looks from us."

"We'd ask if you've looked in a mirror, but…" The Blue Pipe-ette chimed.

Fangula looked towards the organ and its occupants, affronted. "That is modern poppycock! We can be seen in mirrors just fine!"

Flabber lined up his shot and took it. "He's right, girls, the only reason mirrors don't work with Fangs is because they break when he looks in them."

He actually got a laugh out of Mums with that one before he caught himself and rotated his head 180 degrees to snap at them. "Hey, can you knuckleheads be quiet?! They're talking about dead bodies and not talking to the police. I think they killed a guy!"

"Oh, first they bring us weed, and now murder. I'm proud of them," Fangula said.

"One of us! One of us!" Frankenbeans chanted.

Flabber, who could hear everything outside just fine, rolled his eyes and snickered with the Pipe-ettes before Dipper opened the door and stepped in.

"Hey, we didn't kill anybody," he informed them.

Mabel stuck her head in through the doorway. "And stop eavesdropping!"

Mums and Fangula threw their hands up in disappointment, while Frankenbeans shoulders drooped.

The rest of teens filed in, as Flabber floated away from and allowed the Organ to swing open. "Are you guys okay?"

Drew shrugged his shoulders. "Whatever's going on is outside our wheelhouse–"

"For now," Jo sharply said.

Dipper nodded. "There's not a whole lot we can do, and we already have enough incidents that'd have the police bothering us. We don't need more."

Jackie nudged Marco's side. "Hey, dude, since we're here and Star's homework is taken care of, maybe she should come along."

Marco remembered. "Oh yeah." When Star gave him an inquisitive look, he explained. "You want to explore the house with us?"

Star lit up and caught both Marco and Jackie in a hug. "I'd love to!"

This drew the attention of the monsters. "Hey, you guys looking for Wolfy's room again?" At Marco and Jackie's nods, Mums was interested. "Count us in, too!" He turned to Frankenbeans and Fangula. "Hey you bums, get moving."

Janna was tempted to see this werewolf den, and looked over at Drew. "Hey, Sad Kid, want to go along?"

Drew looked over at Dipper. "You don't mind?"

Dipper shook his head. "All I've got to do is scan comics, you're cut loose."

Jo brightened. "Roland and I can help you with the comics."

"Yeah, not like there's anything else going on for the rest of the day," Roland added

Mabel and Misao were already headed down. "Misao and I will brainstorm ideas for the armors~!"

"Awesome~!" Star sang back. "We'll be back with any and all dramatic revelations!"

After the two groups cleared the living room, going their separate ways and the organ closed, the Pipe-ettes turned to Flabber.

"Flabber baby," the Blue Pipe-ette said. "Is it a good idea for them to be sniffing around Wolfy's crib?"

Flabber folded his arms and hummed. "Well, if the house wants them to find it, then I can't tell the house no."

The Green Pipe-ette hummed. "Why do you think it wants them to find it?"

The Red Pipe-ette said, "Maybe it thinks Marco is Teodoro."

Flabber and the other two Pipe-ettes looked at their Red counterpart, bemused.

"… Who?"

@@@@@​

With Hillhurst behind her, Elise drove her minivan back into Echo Creek proper. She was already on the phone with her superiors. "The kids described the person who attacked them over the weekend: African American male with darker complexion, 185 centimeters in height, dripped out fashion–but hey this is LA–and is armed with a walking stick that contains a katana. Does that match anybody on the database?"

"No," Reiko replied, "but I know who you're talking about. We made contact just this morning. He sounds like an amateur but is professional enough to know that he's not getting paid, so he has no more business with the team."

Elise didn't expect that. "You saw his face though, right? Does he look like anybody specific?"

"Yes, actually, Gabriel Ronzell Haley."

Elise slammed on the brakes, a fortuitous event as she'd just come up to an intersection with a stop sign. "Hold on, what?!"

"It honestly explains why he hasn't appeared on the show…"

Checking the intersection, Elise resumed driving. "Does his family know that he's going around beating people up for money?!"

"I reckon not, but the Haleys have been candid about him being troubled and starting trouble since he moved in with them from Go City. This is a dark turn, though…"

"Dark turn? This is scandalous, the kind of scandal that gets shows put on hiatus and an entire family under a microscope."

"It would be if they kept it a secret. Gabriel's patterns of behavior are already known and his family struggles to rein him in. The fact that he hasn't killed anyone, especially the kids, says that he has some restraint at least."

Elise didn't think so.

"But speaking of restraint, there's something more intriguing about that whole matter you're not taking note of, Dancing Shadow. Even as it's right there in front of your eyes."

Elise stopped at a light, and wondered what Reiko was getting at, before it dawned on her. "… He dog-walked three of them."

"Exactly."

"Who is this kid?"

"We'll work on finding that out. Right now, though, he's left Echo Creek for Glendale and isn't interested in carrying on now that the ex-Vanderhoffs are no longer in town. His car was spotted parked at a hotel where we confirmed he checked in. I recommend you not tell them where he is, because Marco, Jackie, and especially Star want to run it back."

"Them doing anything there is almost certainly going to involve Law Enforcement, so yeah. I'm not."

"Atta girl. Is there anything else?"

"Nothing that I can collect on my own besides maybe some details on what they found at Echo Creek Academy."

"We've already got Medjed on the case, there. Expect something by the evening when the police are done gathering evidence."

Waiting, something Elise didn't mind doing, but didn't know if the kids would be as patient. As she turned on the street leading to the neighborhood Marco, Star, Dipper, Mabel, and Misao lived in, she replied. "Well, they have a busy day ahead of them. So hopefully they can wait until then. Right now, I've gotta let Marco's parents know that they have a lawyer, now."

She frowned when she saw an unmarked police car parked in front of the Diaz home. "… And not a moment too soon. I'll call you back."

"All right then," Reiko responded, "Be safe out there, Dancing Shadow."

@@@@@​

Down the unrealistically long hallway of Hillhurst Mansion did Marco, Star, Jackie, Janna, Drew, and the resident monsters go. As if to accommodate the larger group, the hallway seemed a little higher and wider than they all remembered their last times down them, reminding them of the supernatural qualities of the house even as they discussed its residents more.

"Wolfy is the only monster who can come and go as he pleases," Mums explained to the kids as he puffed a pipe packed with the good stuff courtesy of Jackie. "And he abuses the heck out of it. He only shows up every few decades!"

Fangula sniffed. "You'd think he would have the common courtesy to just die, but right when you think you'll never see him again, there he is to be a disappointment on top of an annoyance."

"Ever wonder why Werewolves and Vampires don't get along?" Janna asked aside to Drew.

"I blame World of Darkness," Drew replied.

Janna looked surprised. "You know about World of Darkness?"

"Roland, Jo, and I used to play it when we started High School," Drew revealed.

"When?" Janna asked, before Fangula answered the question he listened in on.

"Vampires and Werewolves actually get along just fine," he informed them, "I just don't like Wolfy. Also, World of Darkness? I wish things were that nice here!"

Drew challenged that. "Are you kidding? If we got Beetleborg powers in the World of Darkness, we'd be tearing down Vampire Society to its foundation."

"Sure you would, blood bag," Fangula teased back.

Marco looked back at Fangula in turn. "Your personal opinion aside, why is Wolfy allowed to leave like he does?"

"Why are you imprisoned here?" Star asked.

Mums answered them. "If we knew that, we'd figure out how we could escape. Not even Flabber knows why we're here."

Fangula sniffed haughtily. "I've always suspected Wolfy knows, which is why he doesn't stick around. So, he doesn't let it slip."

Mums gave Fangula a withered and withering look. "You know, I always thought the same thing! Ever since Wolfy locked Flabber in the organ for us."

"What was that about?" Drew asked.

"That jerky jester was gettin' on our nerves because of those hippies we drove off." Mums explained.

"The Manson Family," Janna said.

"Yeah, those guys. They made themselves at home, and their boss smooth-talked Flabber into becoming his friend while the rest of them were cleaning out the house and pawning everything they could for cash."

Fangula nodded. "We tried to terrorize them into leaving, but half of them were so high all the time that they thought we were hallucinations. Flabber making sure we couldn't hurt them didn't help!"

Frankenbeans, a few synapses firing in his brain, then cheered. "Then Wolfy come back!"

Mums pumped a fist. "He sure did! He stuffed Flabber back into the organ, threw all those bums out and scared them so bad they cut their hair and got jobs!"

Janna snorted. "Oh no they did not."

"What happened to 'em?" Mums asked.

"Like, Manson and half of them went to jail and the other half died when they tried to kill some washed up actor dude. It was hardcore."

Mums cackled. "That's even better! Dang hippies!"

Drew looked around. "Flabber is that true? You were friends with Charles Manson?"

The tiniest Flabber appeared on Drew's shoulder, looking guilty. "Well… you had to be there, kiddo. He was a really charismatic guy."

"He tried to start a race war," Drew said, "And ordered his followers to kill people."

Flabber had a blank look for an instant. "Race war…"

"Yeah, dude, not cool," Jackie said.

Flabber snapped out of the momentary funk. "Well, I had forty years to to think about that in hindsight!"

"Forty-five but go off," Janna corrected.

"And I'm never going to make a mistake like THAT again."

"Instead, you've made new, more exciting mistakes!" Star cheered.

Marco didn't think that was worthy of praise.

Neither did Drew. "Mistakes Flabber is helping us fix. And doing a good job."

"Perhaps if Wolfy comes back," Fangula said, "He won't stuff you back into the organ this time."

"I hope not," Flabber said. "I'm really starting to like True Blood."

Drew and Marco both made faces of disgust, while Jackie and Janna nodded like Flabber's opinion was so obvious.

Star brought the conversation back to Wolfy. "So, what do you suppose Wolfy does while he's gone?"

"How would I know?" Mums asks. "He doesn't talk much, and only brings souvenirs for Frankie. He just goes into his room, and we don't see him again until he decides to leave."

Marco hummed. "When does he normally show up?"

It took a moment, but Fangula answered. "Actually, the only time he ever shows up is not too far away."

"Yeah!" Mums said. "Every time he's shown up it's been around Halloween, and he leaves not too long after."

Janna rubbed her chin. "A mysterious werewolf of few words, who comes and goes as he pleases, darkly just in his actions… but obfuscating in his habits…" She sighed. "Yep, the monster-lover in me is intrigued."

Fangula opened the distance between himself and Janna slightly but visibly.

Mums knew he had nothing to be concerned about.

Frankenbeans' attention was elsewhere entirely. "Wolfy Door!"

There it was, different from the last time encountered. Rather than being across from an alcove it was in the middle of the otherwise unremarkable stretch of hallway. It was exactly the same as before, featuring the locked door and the name plate reading "WOLFY" and "No Entrar" to dissuade intruders.

"Spanish?" Drew asked.

Marco stepped up to the door, Jackie and Star joining him. He stared at the knob, before looking at his former crush and current girlfriend. "Here it is… it's definitely the same door."

"Do you think it'll still open for you?" Jackie asked.

"I don't know," Marco admitted as he reached for it.

Mums stopped him. "Hold on a second, there's something we gotta check first!"

The Mummy patted Frankenbeans on the back. "Go on ahead, Frankie. Give it a go, just like before!"

"Okay!" Frankenbeans said as he stomped up to the door.

Drew turned to Mums. "I don't get it."

"Frankie and Wolfy are friends, so the door should open for him!" Mums explained. "If it doesn't… then we got even more questions than you brats do!"

Stepping aside, Marco let Frankenbeans come up to the door. The massive man-thing took the doorknob and turned it.

Nothing happened.

Frankenbeans gave it another, harder turn and only jiggled the knob.

A moment of silence passed, before Frankenbeans' shoulders drooped again.

"… Wolfy no like me?"

Everyone else turned and stared at Marco.

"… And now I have more questions," Mums confirmed.

Fangula leaned closer, scanning Marco over. "I don't understand. Why, of all people, did it turn for you?"

As Frankenbeans plodded away from the door, sniffling, to be consoled by Mums, Marco shook his head. "I don't know. I've never been to Hillhurst before, and I don't think anyone I know has."

"I tried," Janna said, "But you guys scared and chased me and my peeps off."

Mums patted Frankenbeans on the back. "There, there, dummy. You hear that? You scared the witch! Wolfy will like that."

Drew rolled his eyes before he asked Marco. "Maybe it has something to do with your ancestors?"

"I don't think any of my family was in Los Angeles before my Dad emigrated up here," Marco replied. "And my Mom's not a native, either."

Star walked over to the door, examining it, and hummed. "Well, maybe you have a long lost relative. Someone who was here a long, long time ago when the house wasn't haunted."

She placed her hand on the doorknob and turned to Marco. "And because of that relative, you can turn the lock like–"

Click.

Everyone's attention shifted from Marco to Star.

Star was looking at the doorknob in her hand, wide-eyed. Slowly, she turned to them, her bright blue eyes wide and dilated. "… It opened for me…"

"… Okay…" Marco said. "Maybe it… uh… opened because Star's magical, and she's cast a lot of magic on me. So, I'm… magically radioactive and the door just opens for me."

"I don't think it works like that, Marco," Star said before she thought about it. "Does it?"

Drew decided to test that. "Well, I'm magical thanks to Flabber. Let me try."

Star let go of the doorknob, and it clicked closed again. Walking up to it, Drew took it. "If it opened because Star and Marco are exposed to magic, then I should…" He stopped. "Huh. It's not turning."

He stepped back, and then tried something else. Everyone behind him watched as the doorknob jiggled, but refused to turn even as Drew concentrated his telekinetic powers on it.

"… Okay, that's enough power to rip somebody's arm off, I think," he said. "It's not turning."

He stopped with his telekinesis. "… This is very weird."

"We've tried everything to get in. Knocking the door down, punching through the wall, using Frankie's head as a battering ram. Fangs even tried to turn into a swarm of insects and get under the door. Nothing works," Mums lamented as Janna tried opening the door, followed by Jackie. The knob didn't bother. "Why are you two able to open it?"

Jackie just flat out said it. "… Maybe they mean something to Wolfy."

"Only way we'll know for sure is if we open it," Janna said, before turning to the chosen two. "Well?"

Marco and Star shared looks, before they walked up to the door. Placing his hand over the doorknob, the former began to turn it when the latter placed her hand over his. Looking at one another, they nodded and turned the knob together.

Click.

The door opened, and with a creak it swung open to reveal a dark room with no windows. The shape of furniture immediately stood out. A four-post king-sized bed draped with purple curtains adorned with countless specks that made it look like a starry night sky. Beside the bed was a desk, and across the room from the bed was a massive armoire with a pair of large double doors at the top.

The room was empty beside that, and unlike the many unused rooms in the house there wasn't a mote of desk to be found. It was spotless and pristine.

Holding up her wand, Star stepped into the room and held the wand out in front of her. "Whoa, it's…" Her shoulders dropped. "… just a bedroom."

She turned and looked at the curtains over the bed and found that the sheets matched. "Love the bedspread, though… reminds me of something."

Marco walked in and looked around, Drew, Janna, Jackie, and the monsters gathering at the doorway.

"Star, can you get us some lights?"

Star nodded and held up her wand. As the half-star in the bell began to glow, several gas-powered lamps kicked on with blue magical flames before they cooled to yellow, casting the room in a comforting glow. Something else lit up, however, a purple glow shone from the topmost drawer of the armoire just before the double doors–the mark of a Crescent Moon colored a smoky amethyst purple.

Looking from her wand to the armoire, Star turned to her boyfriend. "Marco… the room's reacting to my wand."

Marco stepped up to the armoire and placed his hands on the drawer's handles. "This closet thing is also… huh?"

As soon as he touched it, red glowing lines spread out, illuminating intricate swirls that spread across the front of the armoire, all of them converging to a lock between the drawer and the main doors of the armoire–where a keyhole in the shape of the letter S sat.

Marco let go of the armoire, before slowly turning to Star. In the shocked voice she used when he opened the door, he whispered to her. "… It reacted to me…"

They all had questions.

Drew, Jackie, Janna, Mums, Fangula, and even Frankenbeans.

As Marco and Star's gazes met, both wrestled with the most important one that everyone was thinking in that moment.

Why them?

|= - = 8-4 = - =|​

Next time: A dive back to 1899.

 

[The Ero-Sennin]

Who is Teodoro? Let's find out!

= - = 8-5 = - =

|The Hunter and The "Doctor"|​

The wind howled loudly over the San Gabriel foothills, as a figure beneath a solitary pine tree dug furiously with both hands to excavate as much dirt as possible. He had excavated a long, but reasonably deep trench, before he collapsed beside it in exhaustion briefly. With several deep breaths the young man, wrapped in a Mexican serape with a black-colored wide brimmed hat dangling off his back, unneeded at such a late hour, pushed himself back up onto his knees and looked down at the hole.

Reaching to his side, he picked up a long, tightly wrapped bundle and threw it in the hole. He followed it with a second wrapped bundle, before heaving into the far end of the hole a large pack that hit it with a heavy thud. With the same urgency, he began to fill the hole with the dirt he carved out of it–packing and punching it down until it was as level and undisturbed as the rest of the loamy soil surrounding the pine tree.

As he sat there, still labored in his breathing, the wind picked up even stronger. The tree above him swayed, its branches creaking from the strain, as the gusts caught his serape like a cape and blew it out to his right side.

Slowly, the figure stood up, a young man wearing a faded red shirt and faded brown trousers. He turned away from the tree and looked down the hill it stood at the summit of. At the base of the hill, looking up at him, an immense, misshapen man stood silently. Looking like a conglomerate of human body parts, stitched together in the shape of a powerfully built man evocative of Frankenstein's monster, the abomination stared hatefully at the boy in turn as electricity crackled from the two bolts screwed into the sides of its head and arced down his body down to his feet.

The young man, despite his exhaustion, reached with his right hand and to a holster on his hip. He gripped the handle of a silver-polished Colt Single Action Army revolver, and narrowed his tired brown eyes at the creature.

"Prey that thinks it can stalk the hunter…" he said to the beast as it hunched lower and growled at him.

After a tense moment, his grip tightening on the weapon, he yelled. "… Is just prey that is eager to die! Come on, then!"

The creature obliged. It leaped, hurtling up the hill and leaving a torn up crater where it stood, flying towards the young man as he drew the revolver and aimed it between the beast's eyes.

@@@@@​

When Dr. Hillhurst brought the unconscious young man into his home, several things were readily apparent. First of all, he was Mexican, and he had spent a very long time out in the elements. His deeply tanned skin was dry and warm to the touch, reflecting a lot of walking out in the bright sun. His clothes, consisting of brown pants, a red long-sleeve shirt, a dark-brown colored sombrero with even darker, reddish splotches all over it, and a brown and green-striped serape meant to keep the sun off his body.

He was a young man, mid to late teens, with a youthful face, dark brown hair, and a beauty mark under his right eye. Judging by his shallow breathing and previously mentioned warmth even out of the sun, Dr. Hillhurst was fairly certain he was dying of heat exhaustion.

"Exposure…" He said aloud. "If I recall correctly…"

Getting up from where he left the young man on the couch. Dr. Hillhurst hurried out of the room and into his kitchen. Soon, he returned with a pitcher of water and a damp cloth. Pouring the water onto the cloth, he removed the young man's serape and began to dab it onto his face and exposed arms to make sure they were moistened.

As he continued to loosen his clothes to let his skin breathe, Dr. Hillhurst stopped when he noticed on his belt at his right hip a silver revolver–a Colt Single Action Army. It was while checking his other side that he noticed something even more unusual.

"… Is that a C96?" He looked at his belt and found that he even had spare, if used, stripper clips for reloading the gun in a hurry. "… How'd you get hold of something so fancy?"

It then occurred to him that the stripper clips were empty, and the slide of the Mauser was pulled back in its holster. "… And what were you using it for?"

He looked at the Colt and slipped it partly from its holster. All the cartridges had been fired, as well, and the boy's belt had not a round left to reload it.

Sliding the gun back into the holster, Dr. Hillhurst stepped back and brought a hand to his chin. "… This is unsettling…"

A well-armed young man with well-used guns usually meant bad news. Especially with a rising crime rate courtesy of the forest of derricks spreading like a cancer in Echo Creek. However, a young man wielding a fancy new semi-automatic with a bespoke caliber would be the talk of the town both below and above board.

Dr. Hillhurst had also never seen this young man before. He knew every Mexican and Native resident around Echo Creek as a matter of neighborly course, and the young man was not one of them. Nor did his distinct face match any of the usual notorious suspects' description down at the Post Office.

"Where did you come from…?" He asked the young man aloud.

As if he'd said the magic words, the young man's brown, bloodshot eyes opened, and he moved with a practiced, efficient swiftness–drawing the Mauser from his holster and pulling the trigger repeatedly as soon as it was aimed in Dr. Hillhurst's face.

The loud, impotent clicks of the empty, slide-locked pistol filled the living room of the house, as Dr. Hillhurst stared down the barrel of the gun at the young man's face.

"I see you didn't need much, to come back around," the doctor replied cheerfully despite the weapon pointed between his eyes. He picked up and offered him the pitcher of water. "You must be thirsty, drink up."

Staring, surprised, at the man's completely nonchalant response to being used as impromptu target practice, the young man looked at the pitcher and immediately dropped the Mauser to take the it and gulp down some water.

After the first taste, he paused with a gasp of surprise, before he all but upended the pitcher into his mouth, draining the whole thing in great, greedy gulps.

"Yes, with all the oil drilling going on over the hill, I have to be very careful with the water I pump out. I've taken to using some English water treatment techniques–London is beyond hope for ever having anything drinkable, but it works wonders here."

As soon as the water pitcher was empty, the young man took Dr. Hillhurst's hands into his own and bowed his head in gratitude. "Thank you," he said in a raspy voice, "Thank you so much… you've saved my life."

Dr. Hillhurst was relieved. Pulling the gun on him must've been a reflex; he seemed genuinely grateful now that he had his wits about him. "It's the human thing to do, friend, there's no need to thank me."

Letting go of his hands, the young man looked around. "When I crossed the border, I was told to come to this place, because there was a man who was friendly to Mexicans who needed help. Are you Aloysius Hillhurst?"

Dr. Hillhurst frowned. "Doctor Aloysius Hillhurst, but yes."

The young man's brow furrowed. "My apologies, I was not told you were a doctor."

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Dr. Hillhurst sighed. "I paid a lot of money for that Doctorate…"

At the young man's puzzled look, Dr. Hillhurst waved it off. "Nevermind all that. What's your name, friend, and what brings you so far north?"

The young man nodded. "My name is Teodoro Ysidro, from El Desemboque in Sonora."

Dr. Hillhurst was surprised. "On the Gulf? Good Lord, young man, what are you doing all the way up here?"

Teodoro did not mince words. "My village was destroyed and everyone in it was killed."

Dr. Hillhurst recoiled with a start from the young man. "Everyone?"

"Yes," he said with a stiff nod. "They came in the night. Beasts that showed no mercy to anyone, they slaughtered men, women, and children then burned all they did not take. Those that escaped, they hunted like animals, and left none alive."

That was horrific. "… They hunted you as well?"

Teodoro shook his head. "No, I hunted them. My father, brother, and I survived the attack and chased them… but they were too many and overwhelmed us. I escaped, my father and brother did not."

Dr. Hillhurst looked at the darker stains on his hat and shirt, and quickly realized that they were all from blood, dried and baked into the fabric by the hot sun that must've beaten on the boy for weeks.

One could easily call his story made up; a lie meant to cover grisly deeds to explain his lack of ammunition.

But Dr. Aloysius Hillhurst was a man of confidence, and his years of experience taught him to identify those who spoke with confidence, and those who spoke with a clarity that could only be truth. Teodoro's story spilled from his mouth with complete sincerity, tinged with the horror he'd experienced and relived behind his wide eyes that were otherwise empty.

"Good Lord," he muttered, "And you made it up here… all the way to Los Angeles?"

Teodoro nodded. "I had to, I followed them here."

Dr. Hillhurst gave pause. "… Say that again?"

"The sons of bitches are here, I tracked them here and I will hunt them down until they are dead." With the water in his system, Teodoro spoke more firmly and with increasing anger in his voice. "That is why I came here. They say you make ammunition, and don't turn away Mexicans."

He looked at his two weapons. "I need as many rounds as you can make."

Dr. Hillhurst hummed. "I've never made 7.63 Mauser before, but if you have a few shell casings, I can work with it."

Teodoro was relieved. "Thank you." He then reached into a bag on his hip, and produced several bars of metal he handed to him. "The rounds for the .45, I need them made from this."

Dr. Hillhurst looked down at the weighty bars in his hand, and his eyes flew wide when he realized what he'd been so plainly handed. The bars were solid, pure silver, each weighing a kilo and there were easily two dozen of them tightly tied together.

Feeling the weight of the silver in his palm, Dr. Hillhurst quickly set it aside. "How long have you been carrying that on you?!"

Teodoro stared at him, puzzled. "It came with me from my family. We melt them down for ammunition."

Dr. Hillhurst was, to say the very least, incredulous. "Ammunition–?! What the devil do you shoot with this?! Demons?!"

Without an ounce of hesitation, he replied. "Yes."

Dr. Aloysius Hillhurst was a man of confidence. As a man of confidence, there were opportunities born every minute, as well as the people who provided them. Twenty-four kilos of solid silver did not simply fall into a man's hand like this, confidence or otherwise, expressly delivered by a child who spoke of "hunting beasts" and shooting "demons."

A less discerning man would take the silver, melt it down, and gloss up the weight in rounds as a replacement. That less discerning man whispered in Dr. Hillhurst's ear to do just that. That same confidence of his, however, gave him pause.

Once more, this boy was far too forthcoming and sincere. His was a naïveté that would get him killed anywhere else, especially in a land so hostile to his kind. That told him two things that weighed gravely on him.

Dr. Hillhurst nodded. "I can do that for you, but it will be costly."

Teodoro understood. "I have no money, but as long as I am here, and those beasts are, I will repay you however I can. I will do work for you, whatever you need, so long as it does not involve harming the innocent."

When was the last time Dr. Hillhurst had an assistant? Quite possibly too long. The last one didn't work out when the Lady Bonner offered him a better price for his services rendered.

That set his ventures back several weeks and he was still bitter about it.

"I'll do you one more, Ted–can I call you Ted?"

Teodoro didn't get it. "Ted?"

"Teodoro? Theodore? Ted is short for it."

Teodoro lifted and dropped his shoulders. "I do not mind."

"Ted, as it turns out I am past due for an assistant to help keep my affairs in order and my posterior unkicked. In exchange for making your ammunition and providing you free room and board here, I'll need you as my right hand while I attend to some troublesome dealings in the town over yonder hill."

The young man made a face of disgust. "That oil field is a town? How do people live there?"

"That's the thing," Dr. Hillhurst said. "They don't, and that's what makes the dealings so troublesome."

The price didn't seem too steep to Teodoro at all. "Again, as long as I do not harm innocents, I do not care what you need me for."

Dr. Hillhurst beamed. "Outstanding, lad. You are in good hands."

A new dilemma erupted. "… Though, if I'm going to be making this many rounds, I'll need brass, and I have a shortage."

Teodoro looked down at his pockets, and produced another three dozen bars of silver, much to Dr. Hillhurst's disbelief. "I only brought silver with me."

"How much of that have you been carrying with you?!" He shouted in exasperation.

"… I buried a pack nearby with all that I could take from my home."

Dr. Hillhurst's mouth dropped open. "Did you live on top of a silver mine?!"

Teodoro gave him a blank look. "No, a fishing village."

Dr. Hillhurst shook his head. "Nevermind, Ted, nevermind." He got up. "Now then, you get some rest. There's water in the kitchen and an icebox with food you can prepare. Make yourself at home and don't worry about doing anything for the rest of the day so you can recover. I have to write down an order for some brass and find the strength to go back into town to submit it."

He shook his head in dismay. "I'll have to make a deal with a devil or two to see it filled."

= - = 8-5 = - =​

Huh, lad seems familiar.

 

[The Ero-Sennin]

Whoops, missed another day. Probably because I was locked in on another bit of writing. Nevertheless! The next chapter of Legends Volume 8 is here!

= - = 8-6 = - =

|Offensive|​

At Britta's Tacos, Brittney Wong tore into an overly stuffed burrito as she watched her best friend Sabrina Backintosh meekly stare at her smartphone. The phone sat on the picnic table in front of the restaurant, Sabrina swallowing heavily as she tapped her fingers on either side of it.

Brittney took another bite and chewed, her eyes narrowing as Sabrina's fingers inched towards the screen before retreating back to their starting position. The mousy, clumsy cheerleader was sweating profusely, and trembling like a chihuahua in the midst of a panic attack.

Chewing and swallowing, Brittney set down the burrito in its cardboard container, before she lashed out for the phone. "For fuck's sake, Sabrina!"

Sabrina was faster, snatching up the phone in both her hands and shrieking at her friend. "I CAN DO IT, BRITTNEY!"

Backing off, Brittney rolled her eyes. "Are you going to do it before the Heat Death of the Universe?"

"I'm gonna!" She assured her best friend. "It's just…" She sighed. "I had so much fun with him Saturday, but that was the biggest dance, that was YOUR dance. I don't know if he'll say yes if it's not for something big and important like that."

Brittney gave her a probing look. "Sabrina Backintosh. The fact that Andrew McCormick had fun with you and wasn't a sniveling simp the entire time like some kind of dweeb means that if you asked him out… he'd probably say yes." She rolled her eyes. "I mean, come on! You spent the entire dance attached at the hip and you were chugging whipped cream at the end of the night like nobody was watching you two be the most adorable goobers alive!"

She slapped the table. "You have chemistry! You get along! Ask the boy out already before Heather Summers or Janna Ordonia do!"

Sabrina did a double take. "Wait, Janna's into him, too?"

"I've heard rumors," Brittney said before pivoting back to her point. "But that just means you need to square up, get your pom-poms out your purse, and STAKE YOUR CLAIM!"

A fire burning in her eyes, Sabrina lunged for her phone and held it up to her face. "I… I'll do it!"

With great determination Sabrina began texting out a message.

Sabrina said:
Hello Andrew! I hope this text message sees you well. I wanted to tell you again that I had a very good time at the dance and I hope you did too!
I was hoping that since we had so much fun, that you would like to hang out again. We could go see a movie, grab some food, or even take a walk down Santa Monica Pier! Or all three! Actually, all three sounds really good, it could be an entire afternoon and it'll be super fun!
I'm sorry I'm rambling, but I'm super nervous, I've never asked a boy out on my own before. And you're like the coolest boy I've ever met. So anyway text me back! Thank you for taking the time to read!

"And… SEND!" Sabrina said like she was pushing through the last rep in a set of fifty. Sagging in relief, she then threw up her hands in victory. "I DID IT! I ASKED A BOY OUT!"

Brittney finished her burrito in the time it took Sabrina to write out that text. "What did you send him, Tolkien, a manuscript?"

"I'm nervous! I rambled!" Sabrina snapped back at her. Her eyes then flew wider, and she let out a frightened squeak before she shrank back.

Her reaction alerted Brittney, who looked behind her and jumped when she found a young man walking up to her from her blind spot. He had brown, unkempt sandy brown hair underneath a black baseball cap with a deer skull in its center. He wore a pair of baggy black jeans and a white t-shirt with the picture of a scowling, fair-skinned, glasses-wearing man with short black hair and matching dark eyes.

"Hey, ladies," the young man greeted.

Brittney stared at the face on the shirt and felt a strange sense of déjà vu as she tried to recollect where she saw his face before. Her eyes then widened before she looked up at the young man's face, his eyes hidden by his hat and hair not unlike Oskar Greason's.

"Hey…" She said with a suspicious tone before asking. "… You wouldn't be TC Darnell, would you?"

"That depends," the young man used his thumb to tip his hat up, revealing gentle-looking eyes that were an unusual shade of violet. "Are you Brittney Wong and not the kind of girl who'd blow up a man's spot?"

Sabrina was less nervous. "Ah… TC Darnell… the artist?"

Brittney nodded, recognizing him. "Yeah, it's him."

"In the flesh," he confirmed.

She looked at his shirt. "Is that a new shirt design?"

"Mmhm!" He replied. "Just finished it like an hour ago. I actually just had a dozen made." He gestured to a duffel bag that he had set at his feet. "When I thought I saw the daughter of one of LA's better known patrons of the arts and thought… 'maybe I should hit her up, see if she wants a shirt.'"

"Of course I want a shirt," Brittney said without hesitating, before she added. "But what are you doing here in Echo Creek? Weren't you in Paris just like a month ago?"

"Paris, Tel Aviv, Dubai, Shanghai… I went to a lot of places a month ago, selling shirts like crazy." TC reached down into the bag and pulled out a pair of white t-shirts that he then handed to Brittney before tossing one in front of Sabrina. "I've done so much traveling it's actually pissed off a few of my sponsors, so I'm laying low for a bit."

Sabrina stared at the face on the shirt, not experiencing the strange sense Brittney had. "Excuse me, um… my friend's told me about you. Where do you get the ideas for your shirts?"

"The faces? Well, I do a lot of traveling, and I see a lot of faces. So many faces that after a while they blend together, and I can barely remember any save for specific features that just grab me." He gestured to the shirt. "So, I draw the faces from memory and use the features that stand out or strike me. The result is a face that doesn't exist… but is familiar to someone in some way."

He smiled at the girls. "You might've seen someone with glasses like these, or eyes, or haircut… maybe even been frowned at by a particularly mean teacher. You don't remember where you've seen this face, but it sticks out and it creates that feeling that this person who doesn't exist might have been someone you knew."

Sabrina held up the shirt given to her, and saw the face of the bespectacled man glaring at her. Now that she saw it up close, she got what he was trying to say. That scowl sent a chill through her, like she'd seen it before. "… I see what you mean, it's kind of creepy."

TC shrugged his shoulders. "And that's why I draw them, so people can feel something."

"Well," Brittney said, "Are you planning on making anymore while you're here?"

"A few more," TC said as he watched Sabrina fold her shirt up. "I have an idea for one that I'll get started after dinner tonight."

At that moment a familiar and unsettling sound filled the air. Soon as she heard it, Brittney's left eye twitched and she shot to her feet, scanning the sky. "… Are you kidding me?!"

Sabrina, TC, and everyone else dining in front of or waiting in line at Britta's Tacos looked up as the shadows of the vespoid-shaped Magnavore Jet Fighters passed overhead. There were two flights of four of them, flying high and circling wide over Echo Creek like vultures searching for a meal.

"They… they're attacking again?!" Sabrina asked, in disbelief. "They just attacked yesterday!"

Brittney already had her phone to her ear, calling Star. "I guess they got tired of acting like Power Rangers villains with that monster of the week crap."

TC looked down the street and frowned. "Uh… girls? We should run."

Both followed where he was looking, and Brittney almost dropped her phone when she saw that what was once an empty street was now crowded with dozens of those Scab monsters from last week. They stood in square formation, their bodies twitching and jerking in anticipation, moving in an inhuman fashion.

At the very front of this formation, Barla stood with her black dragon armor gleaming in the sun and the eyes of the dragon head on her chest alight with malice. Raising her hand above her head, her sword materialized in it with a burst of flame. Looking at the otherwise peaceful neighborhood and gawking pedestrians and drivers stopped and staring at them, she pointed her sword forward and shouted.

"ATTACK!"

@@@@@​

"Flabber, can you explain any of this?!" Marco demanded as he and Drew cornered the phasm in Wolfy's room. Behind them, Jackie and Star were examining the still glowing armoire, while Janna laid on the bed and stared at the ceiling of the four-post bed.

"I honestly can't!" Flabber said. "It was so long ago; I can't remember anything. My memory before… oh… 1920 is really fuzzy, guys!"

"Come on, is there anything at all you remember?" Marco pressed. "This is important. What is this place to me and Star?!"

Drew was wrestling with the implications of this room. "This random abandoned house in the hills outside of Echo Creek is connected to a magical princess from another dimension, the guy she was chosen to live with… and only became relevant to us on the day we all met… what the actual hell?"

"Huh," Mums said from the doorway. "When you think about it like that. It almost sounds like you brats were meant to be here."

Marco and Drew turned to him, shouting together in exasperation. "That's the screwed-up part!"

Flabber knocked on his own head with both hands. "I'm sorry! I really am, I just can't remember anything too far back. Wolfy would probably know!"

Star confronted the monsters. "What do you remember?!" She demanded.

Fangula shrugged his shoulders. "Nothing? We didn't wake from our slumber here until the Doctor passed in the 1930s. And some of us weren't keen on getting up even then."

Mums discreetly pointed at Fangula without looking at him. "This guy."

"If I'm going to wake up, I will wake up beautifully," Fangula declared.

"You must be sleepwalking champion of the Vampire Dimension," Mums muttered.

"I'll end you, mummy."

"Well, do you remember how you got here?" Jackie asked.

All three monsters shook their heads. "All we know is that one day we were here. There's a bit of a blank for me from about… 3500 years ago to 1939 AD."

"No remember," Frankenbeans said. "Only remember doctor make Frankie… then wakey wakey in house."

Fangula huffed. "I remember everything from my turning in my home dimension, coming to this dimension in 1730, and everything from then to about 1898."

Drew stopped overthinking the idea of destiny. "What happened in 1898?"

Fangula shrugged his shoulders. "I had a bite to eat, tucked into bed, and then woke up in 1948."

"None of this makes sense," Drew said.

"Wait, you're from another dimension?" Janna asked and went unheard.

"No, we just don't have all the facts," Marco said as he went for his phone. "Welp, time to call Dipper and have him do his mystery stuff."

Star's phone abruptly rang.

Worship the queen and you might could pass! Keep it real, these bitches couldn't wipe my ass!

"Wait, Brittney?" Star said as she pulled out her magic mirror compact. "Hey, Brittney this is a bad time–"

"Yeah, it's a bad time!" Brittney shouted. "Those Magnavore guys are attacking downtown! They've got jets and everything! People are running around trying to not get blasted or beaten up!"

Star looked around at the others. "The Magnavores are attacking Echo Creek."

Drew grew alarmed. "Wait, they're actually attacking the town, now?!"

At that moment, the house's PA clicked on and Misao called out. "Everyone, come down to the Beetle Battle Base right now! The Magnavores are attacking the town with Jet Fighters and a lot of Scabs! We're getting the AVs ready!"

Star turned her attention to the Magic Mirror. "Brittney, we'll be there as quick as we can!"

Without a moment's hesitation, she ended the call and used the Scissors to slash open a portal to the Beetle Battle Base, the teenagers all pouring into the command center where Roland and Jo were already transforming into the Hunterborg and Strikerborg. Dipper was already at the main console with Misao, both watching the computer screen as transcripts of police and EMS reports poured in and a map of Echo Creek's downtown, specifically the vicinity of Britta's Taco's, radiated red.

"How many are there?" Drew asked as he summoned his Beetle Bonder.

"At least a few dozen scabs and eight jet fighters," Dipper said.

Marco didn't like that. "A few dozen?! Where'd they get that many?!"

Drew sneered. "Today is just non-stop question after question." He held up his Beetle Bonder. "Beetle Blast!"

In a flash he transformed and turned to his fellow Beetleborgs. "Let's get to work!"

"We were waiting for you, twin," Hunterborg said.

Strikerborg pumped her fists in excitement. "I get to take to the air again." She looked at Misao. "And I'll definitely be mindful of what's happening on the ground."

Misao called back to Strikerborg. "I trust you!"

As the Beetleborgs turned and raced to their AVs, Dipper looked to their less armored friends. "Are you guys going out there, too?"

Marco looked at Star and Jackie, then at Dipper. "Well, we have to."

"Armor or not," Jackie said, "There's a lot of those Scab guys, right? We need everybody who can fight over there."

Star held up her wand. "I have a temporary solution. I don't know how long it'll last, though."

Mabel stepped up. "Then count me in, too!" There was no question from anyone. After Mabel's performance last week and yesterday, her joining was welcomed. "So, magic us up, girl! We have a town to save!"

Nodding, Star held her wand aloft. "RAINBOW SENTAI BATTLE ARMOR!"

With Star's command, the wand flashed to life and sprayed rainbow-colored energy that swirled out around herself, Marco, Mabel, and Jackie. The light spread over the four of them, becoming a bodysuit-like forcefield that was at its thickest a half-inch. It covered them from head to toe, sporting devil horns on Star's "helmet", a karate-belt shaped addition around Marco's waist, a whole shark tail sticking from the back of Jackie's suit, and the top of Mabel's suit shaped like the sweater she wore.

"I dub us… the MewRangers!" Star declared.

Marco turned and looked at her. "… We're not calling ourselves that."

Star stopped. "Right, got a little carried away." She focused and held up her Dimensional Scissors. "Let's get going!"

@@@@@​

It was chaos. People were running for their lives as they were chased by weapon-brandishing Scabs. Tires were screeching as townsfolk driving into the chaos abruptly turned around and drove away–only to abandon their vehicles and dive for cover as the Magnavore Jet Fighters dove low and strafed the streets.

Amidst the chaos, Brittney, Sabrina, and TC ran around the corner from the mob of Scabs and sprinted up a side street. Dudley was standing beside Brittney's G-Wagen while enjoying a bowl of pozole purchased from the restaurant for his lunch break. He'd barely noticed the chaos that was beginning, until he saw his brand-new employer and her companion approaching with another young man he did not recognize.

"Dudley! Get us out of here, before we get jumped!" Brittney shouted at her butler.

Despite the alarm in his charge's voice, Dudley could not help but feel elated to be called by his real name. "Is everything well, Master Brittney?"

"DOES IT LOOK LIKE IT?!" Brittney yelled at him before a quartet of Scabs fell from the sky and landed around her, Sabrina, and TC, blocking their route to Dudley while several more charged up behind them.

TC looked at the monsters, then at the two girls in his company and their elderly, doddering butler who began walking towards them. He hefted his bag. "Okay, we're getting jumped. How do we not die?"

"Pardon me," Dudley said as he approached them. "But disperse so that I may escort Master Brittney and her companions to safety–"

The Scab nearest to him turned and immediately brandished its flame-shaped blade, while making a sound between a screech and a swarm of metal wasps buzzing angrily in warning.

Still walking up to the Scab, Dudley lowered his right arm and then in a much faster motion reached up and plunged a stiletto knife into the dead center of the Scab's head.

"I was not making a request," he said as the Scab crumpled, dissolving into a pile of dying metal wasps.

The other Scabs immediately took more interest in Dudley, swarming towards him. But the seemingly innocuous old man calmly and efficiently dispatched each as they approached in the same manner, stabbing them clean through their heads as soon as they entered his range of attack.

Brittney, Sabrina, and TC watched, mouths agape, as the butler calmly walked around them and used his methodic violence to clear remaining the Scabs before stopping behind them and slipping the stiletto into his jacket.

"… Could you always do that?" Brittney asked as the last of the offending Scabs began to decay.

"Yes," Dudley replied.

"… Did your former employers know that?"

"Master Brittney, they couldn't be bothered to know my name."

Brittney and Sabrina looked at each other, then back at Dudley.

He clearly had the patience of a Saint for not murdering them himself.

"Now then, please get to the vehicle so that we may depart safely," Dudley ordered.

The girls quickly complied, TC not so much. "Hey, I'm not heading the same way you are. So I'm going to abscond elsewhere. You guys be safe."

Sabrina looked at the chaos down the street. "Are you sure?"

TC flashed her a smile. "I'll be fine, don't worry! I'll see you around… enjoy the shirts!"

With that he crossed the street and ran up it before ducking to his left into an alleyway. Shrugging her shoulders, Brittney took Sabrina's hand and led her off to the G-Wagen.

"Let's go, Star will be here any minute now and we don't want to be in the splash zone!"

The very moment they reached the car, Brittney's words rang true as the Green Hunter AV came around the corner in front of them and thundered past towards the corner and Britta's Tacos. Looking across the street in front of him, behind his helmet Roland scanned across the street at the Scabs causing havoc, target markers appearing over each of them. The blaster turrets atop the hull of the Hunter AV opened fire, the beams pummeling the Scabs without striking any of the fleeing pedestrians they were chasing around.

"God damn there's a lot of them!" Hunterborg said before his AV was rocked by several laser bolts from four strafing Magnavore Jet Fighters.

As the four crafts pulled out of their dive, bursts of laser fire from in front and below caused the fighters to spread out. Climbing to meet the ascending Jet Fighters, the Red Striker AV committed on the leading Jet Fighter, Jo ripple firing blasters that ripped through the fighter.

The exploding fighter came apart, becoming a cloud of dying and decomposing metal wasps that the fan-driven beetle-shaped fighter blasted through.

"And a bunch of fighters!" Strikerborg said as she chased after the lead Jet Fighter's wingmate, while keeping clear of bolts fired by the other two Jet Fighters that had quickly come around to pounce on her.

As the aircraft cut across the sky, down the street from the Hunter AV, the Stinger AV arrived on the scene and with the same machine precision opened fire on another group of Scabs. "How many of these things are they able to summon at once, now?"

A group of Scabs charged towards the Stinger AV racing towards them, brandishing their weapons. After making sure the path was clear of innocent people on the ground, Stingerborg lowered the horn of his AV and floored it, crashing through the crowd and scattering them away or running them under its wheels.

When he passed through the crowd, however, he came upon Barla, who brandished her sword and swung it down to meet the horn of the AV. With a clang, the Stinger AV came to an abrupt halt, and Drew lurched forward in his seat. "Ah… what the…!?"

Seeing Barla's face, his eyes widened in alarm. "Ah, crap, they got Barla?!"

Looked it, but the strength she used to proceed to flip the Blue Stinger AV into the air was anything but. Rather than flail, Drew recovered and worked the controls, firing off emergency thrusters that righted the AV and brought down on its wheels.

"Hunterborg, be careful!" He shouted out. "She's strong!"

"Man, I just saw her do that!" Roland called back as he fired blaster bolts at Barla.

Under the hail of fire, Barla spun her sword to cut down two bolts before swinging the blade twice to smack aside follow up shots. "Get out of those machines and fight me properly!"

The mouth of the dragon chestplate opened and fired a continuous beam that smashed into the Green Hunter AV, pushing it backward and damaging it.

"Hey, are you all right?!" Drew asked.

Roland nodded. "I'm good, it should be able to make it back."

Drew released the controls. "I'm going in."

Roland nodded. "You got this, cuh!"

Stingerborg launched himself from his AV and landed in a crouch in the middle of the chaotic street. Hearing him land, and his AV retreat, Barla turned and brandished her sword at him.

"The blue one who defeated Saberizer."

Stingerborg pulled out the Input Magnum into his left hand, then deployed the Stinger Blade over his right arm. "Yeah, I did."

Barla nodded. "That's a shame. I never got to measure myself against him after I received this armor." With that she prepared to attack. "Show me the determination you had that allowed you to defeat him!"

At once the two attacked one another, Stingerborg opening fire with the Input Magnum in Beam Mode. Barla raced straight in, the energy shots glancing harmlessly off her armor before she got close enough and slashed him across his armor chest with a downward diagonal stroke.

Sparks flying from his armor, Stingerborg tried to recover and strike back, but Barla was faster and swung upward vertically, cutting upwards over Drew's armor and knocking him off his footing completely.

Inside the armor, Drew was even more alarmed. She hits harder than Saberizer!

"I'm not done yet!" Barla shouted as she struck Stingerborg with a flurry of slashes, her arm and the blade she wielded a blur as sparks flew from the armor with each hit.

The barrage of attacks came to an abrupt halt when the Green Hunterborg caught her arm in the Hunter Claw. When Barla looked to her right, Hunterborg was aiming the Input Magnum at her face.

As soon as Roland fired, Barla turned her head, the Beam Bolts deflecting off the side of her helmet to hit the staggered Stingerborg in the chest and arm.

"Shit–!" Hunterborg yelled out before Barla pulled him in and punched him in the head. As he stepped back, she used her sword to pull him in front of her, then yanked her blade out from the grip of the claw. She then struck Hunterborg with a rising diagonal cut, disappeared, and reappeared behind him to strike Stingerborg with a descending strike in the opposite direction.

Turning around as Stingerborg toppled, she lunged to stab Hunterborg in the back but passed through his after image. His attempt at a super speed attack was foiled when she effortlessly parried the Hunter Claw from closing around her neck, then brutalized him with six quick, heavy hits that knocked him off his feet.

Landing on his back, Hunterborg looked at Stingerborg, who was getting up. "Hey, twin? I'm kinda mad that Strikerborg got to fight Hammer Kong but we're out the gate with this shit."

"Me too," Stingerborg said before Barla came at him again. When she swung her sword this time, however, Stingerborg successfully blocked and then parried the blade aside.

I have to go straight to using telekinesis to move myself! Drew thought as Barla recovered from the parry and countered his riposte. To her surprise, her next quick blows were either stopped out right or countered.

"There it is!" Barla said. "So you can fight!"

"It doesn't matter if I can or can't, I have to!" Stingerborg shouted back.

Sparks flew as their blades clashed again and again. "I have to protect people from creeps like you! So, don't make this out like it's something I'm doing for fun!"

Once more Barla was parried, and Drew winced from the pain of moving his arm with such violence. "The last guy who talked that kind of shit, I cut him and that sword of his in half!"

Rather than moving himself with his Telekinesis, he moved Barla, grabbing her and throwing her with all his might into the side of one of the cars abandoned and burning since the start of the attack. She went into it with such force that she went through the frame, rending it in half before hitting one of the picnic tables in front of Britta's tacos and reducing it to splinters.

Shaking her head, Barla sat up. "What did he hit me with? Telekinesis?"

That wasn't what actually bothered her, though as she watched Stingerborg enter a combination on his Input Magnum and open fire upon her with a blue ray of frosty energy. Quickly her cloak transformed into a set of wings, and she launched herself into the air above the freezing beam.

Stingerborg watched her race into the sky, high above him. "She can fly, too?!"

At the Beetle Battle Base, Dipper watched the battle unfold with chagrin. "She's not in any of our databases, I don't think we've gotten to her comic yet."

Misao turned to Janna. "Janna? Go take Gargantis out, so you can support them. They're going to need more firepower."

Janna perked up. "Wait, really?"

"Yes!" Misao said. "Schnell!"

As Barla rose above the battlefield, she looked down and found a sight she didn't expect. Her Scabs were under attack, not by the Beetleborgs but what appeared to be the others Jara described.

On the ground, Marco high-kicked a Scab in the head with such force that its head disintegrated, before he switched and kicked with his other leg to strike another Scab in the chest, throwing it onto its back. Behind him Jackie, armed with another spear, slapped another Scab terrorizing some civilians across the head before she quickly brought her weapon back and stabbed it where a human's nose would be.

Twisting the spear, she wrenched the weapon out of the Scab's head and spun the weapon around before using the razor-sharp head of the weapon to cut deeply into two more Scabs and then stab a third.

Marco dipped his body while sidestepping the wild swing of a Scab's short sword, before he back handed it with his right fist and then delivered a left cross that wrenched its head at a bad angle. He then turned and swung the back of his right heel into its neck, snapping the head off completely. As it dissolved, yet another Scab jumped in, succeeding in stabbing Marco in the chest and causing him to stumble back.

Star's spell held, with only a few sparks flying from the contact. "Is this what it feels like for the Beetleborgs? I felt that!" He crossed his arms to block a vertical swing from the Scab, before Mabel intervened with a flying drop kick that sent the Scab crashing to the ground.

Marco capitalized, running up to and bringing his foot down on the robot's head, crushing it and cracking the pavement underneath.

"I'd be having a lot more fun if they weren't messing with people who've got nothing to do with this, and my tacos!" He shouted out.

"Yeah, we have a lot on our minds!" Star, further behind the others, shouted as she raised her wand. "Rainbow Avalanche!"

The stream of rainbows crashed into multiple Scabs, battering and then tearing them apart while also avoiding nearby civilians scrambling for cover. Turning towards a Scab, Star swung the wand at it as she shouted another spell. "Super Heart Slap!"

A light in the shape of a heart appeared around her wand as it connected with the Scab, both blowing its head off and sending its body flying. "I am so happy for this distraction!"

"And so many things to break!" Mabel cheered as she grabbed a Scab that cut across her magically armored body, doing no damage, and picked it up to slam onto another Scab that joined in the first's attack.

As soon as they were down Jackie fell on them both, stabbing one and then the other each in the head. She then turned and swung the weapon like a golf club, bodily bisecting another Scab's head. "So many things! I don't like that there's so many, dude!"

Barla observed the brawl with interest as she noticed most of the civilians caught up in her attack either open the distance from the brawl or film it with their phones. Another thing she noticed from on high was the universal flashes of red and blue as police established a perimeter around the area rather than barging straight in.

"… They're not moving in themselves," she said aloud.

A cascade of energy bolts danced off her armor and she looked down to see the Stingerborg and Hunterborg shooting up at her with their Input Magnums. Unharmed by the weapons, she merely sniffed in derision–before much heavier bolts slammed into her back, causing an explosion that propelled her forward.

Stopping herself, she turned around to see the Red Striker AV hovering there, its beam cannons swiveling slightly to focus on her before firing another barrage.

"You didn't forget about me, did you?!" Strikerborg asked as Barla swiftly evaded the next attack. "Well, of course she'd evade now."

As Barla turned and attacked, Jo redlined the throttle and evaded the lunge before pivoting the fans and accelerating away. "Hey, Misao!"

"Ja?" She asked.

"I'm going to need to focus on flying, can you shoot for me from the Battle Base?"

After a brief moment, Misao answered. "As a matter of fact, I can! I'm connected to the Red Striker AV, now!"

"I figured you'd be able to." With that, the Red Strikerborg pulled her AV into a high-speed climb.

Barla gave pursuit, scanning the sky for the Jet Fighters she came with. To her surprise there were none. "Did the red one shoot them all down that quickly?!"

Above her, the Red Strike AV's body flipped over while the fans kept driving it upward. Seeing the barrels, Barla stopped and boosted back. Turning completely over upside down, Jo flipped the fans to match the body's orientation and plummeted straight down. As the Red Striker AV fell, Misao locked the beam cannons onto Barla and fired with a precision that surprised both the Dragonslayer and Strikerborg. Almost every bolt from the short burst hit, engulfing Barla in smoke.

"Whoa, nice shooting!" Strikerborg said as she adjusted the throttles to flip her AV over, then oriented them to race away from the cloud.

"Nice flying!" Misao complimented back. "How do you do it so well?"

"Please, I've played every Reddle-centric flight shooter since I was eight! Sure, they were buggy and some of them triggered epileptic seizures for some weird reason, but they taught me a bunch about how this thing moves!"

Dipper, overhearing that, said aloud. "It may have to do with the fact that anything Beetleborgs related comes from the Nightmare Realm and adaptations are some kind of cognitive hazard. I mean… look at the movie."

Misao nodded. "That makes sense."

As the smoke cleared, Barla was taking aim at the Red Striker AV with her Dragon Chestplate. As the dragon's mouth began to glow, however, she was bombarded again from the ground by Stingerborg and Hunterborg. Once more, the weapons did nothing to phase her.

"Useless!" Barla declared before opening fire. The beam shot across the sky, and she was certain the attack would hit, but the Red Striker AV narrowly rolled clear and used said roll to come back around at high speed.

"Holy crap!" Strikerborg said as she closed in, Misao targeting and striking Barla a few more times. "Barla is freaking crazy!"

Drew followed the Dragonslayer's movements across the sky. "That armor is too tough for the Input Magnums, and Strikerborg is literally just annoying her."

Star, fortunately, had a solution to that immediate crisis. "Honeybee Tornado Swarm!"

A beam of yellow light from Star's wand struck Barla, and quickly manifested in a swarm of extremely angry honeybees that began stinging her everywhere they could reach to no effect.

"Is this some kind of joke?!" Barla said before a portal opened directly above her, revealing Star aiming her wand at her on the other side.

"SUPER RAINBOW FIST PUNCH!"

A massive rainbow-fist connected with and smashed Barla down into the street below before dissipating into a festive colorful cloud.

In the fist-shaped crater made by the impact, Barla stood up. "… How…?"

The Dragon chest plate's eyes lit up, and Barla quickly brought her sword up to parry Stingerborg up and away as he attacked from her front. As he was knocked off his footing, her whole body flickered to block Hunterborg swinging the Hunter Claw like a sword.

"You should stay down!" She snapped at him.

"Stop your yapping and box!" Hunterborg shouted back.

As if teleporting, both switched places, their weapons meeting again, before Hunterborg abruptly vanished and then appeared on Stingerborg's other side, slammed into the ground by a haymaker from Barla's free hand as she appeared above him.

Before she could move with her own super speed again, Stingerborg grabbed her with his telekinesis while entering Crash Mode into the Input Magnum. He jammed the barrel of the weapon into her face and opened fire, performing the equivalent of a mag-dump until an alarm warned him of overheating.

When he pulled the weapon back, he was surprised to see a demon-like mask over Barla's face, before it opened to reveal her own unarmed visage and the dragon's mouth opened to blast Drew in the chest with another beam.

Freed from his telekinetic grasp, Barla raised the sword over her head with both hands and plunged the blade down from overhead to impale Stingerborg through the chest.

Using his telekinesis, Stingerborg threw himself out of the way of Barla's blade. As the weapon slipped deep into the ground, almost to the hilt, Barla looked to her right at him, before movement to her left prompted her to rip her blade up out of the ground to strike Hunterborg in the gut with the pommel.

As Hunterborg was doubled over by the attack, Strikerborg dropped from her AV and landed in a crouch behind her, the Striker Plasmar already spinning at max RPM.

"TORNADO SPARK!" Strikerborg yelled, the large bolt of energy generated from the weapon slamming into Barla and throwing her down the street, towards Britta's Tacos.

Before she could smash into and destroy the restaurant, she was struck by another Rainbow Fist Punch that knocked her into the street next to the restaurant.

Barla shook her head, surprised again by the force of the blow, before Marco fell on her with a flying kick she blocked with the flat of her sword. Putting both feet on the blade, Marco jumped off it, avoiding Barla's parrying slash.

Star slid under Marco, wand aimed for her chestplate. "Winterstorm Hyperblow!"

And then Barla was blasted with a beam of ice that completely encased her. As her chestplate's eyes flashed and the thick ice began to crack, Mabel came running in from her left, jumped, and performed a flying roundhouse kick that shattered the ice and sent Barla stumbling towards the center of the intersection.

"All together now!" She shouted out. "JUMP THIS LOSER!"

Barla raised her sword and swung before Hunterborg intervened with super speed and blocked her strike. As soon as their blades met, Jackie used her spear to catch the sword between itself and the Hunter Claw.

Barla broke the lock and slashed both Jackie and Roland. Star's protection barely held for her, but the wind was still knocked out of her as she caught herself. Roland, having taken the brunt of the hit, outright tumbled along the ground away from her.

Just as quickly as those two were discarded, Marco slammed a right hook into the side of the Dragonslayer's head, surprising her with the force of the strike. She performed a sweeping strike with her sword, but Marco ducked under it to bring up his right heel to connect with the other side of her head.

Barla felt that one, too.

These children…! She thought in disbelief as she recovered and swung her sword down. They're not fighting like children at all!

Jackie interrupted her slash even as Marco jumped clear, stabbing her just above the chestplate with the spear. "Dude, go down already!"

Both she and Marco turned and connected roundhouse kicks to Barla's chest, actually knocking her off her footing before Stingerborg grabbed her with telekinesis again. As Marco and Jackie jumped back, Strikerborg stepped in and punched Barla in the stomach with all her might, lifting the Dragonslayer off her feet.

Stingerborg then slammed her into the ground, and Strikerborg raised her left foot to stomp Barla down and create a hole in the street with her and Barla at the bottom of it.

Lying at the bottom of the hole, Barla stared up in surprise at the Red Strikerborg. "… Such ferocity!"

Strikerborg raised her foot again. "Yeah, we're not playing around!"

There was a blast of light and Jo was sent flying from the hole by an energy blast from the chestplate's mouth. As Strikerborg left the hole, Star leaped over it, aiming her wand straight down at Barla. "THERMONUCLEAR BUTTERFLY BLAST!"

Barla's eyes grew wide. "Thermo–WHAT?!"

A column of rainbow colored light soon rose from the hole in the street, which then became a localized explosion that shot skyward above Echo Creek. Out of the very small mushroom cloud that rose from the street, Star came flipping out and landed with Marco, Jackie, Mabel, and the Beetleborgs.

"Good hustle!" Mabel praised them.

Star looked at Jackie. "You okay?"

"I'm fine," Jackie replied. "Thanks for the protection."

Star beamed. "Just imagine how good the real armor will be!"

Marco called over. "Uh, guys? Focus. There's no way she's done."

He was right. Barla immediately leaped from the smoldering crater of Jo and Star's creation, and she landed with enough force to crack the pavement beneath her feet. Slowly, she walked towards the group, her eyes narrowing as she lowered her sword rather than raise it for a new attack.

"It is to my understanding that Vexor wants some of you alive," she said as she reached the middle of the intersection in front of them. She pointed at Star. "You." She then pointed at Stingerborg. "And you. "If you surrender now, then this chaos will cease, and I will allow the rest of you to leave without further harm."

"Yeah, no," Strikerborg snapped back.

"What kind of offer is that?!" Mabel asked. "Sure, we'll give you the keys to conquering the Earth, what's the worst that could happen?!"

"Oh, the worst that will happen is if you refuse," she said before she was engulfed in a black, flame-like aura–both her own eyes and the dragon chest plate's glowing an ominous yellow through the darkness wreathing her.

Dipper did not like that. "Guys, she's ramping up the power!"

Those protected by Star's spell could feel the heat and pressure radiating from her through the protection. Jackie in particular was stunned. "Dude, how is she so strong…?!"

"It's that armor," Jo said.

Something about what Barla said, however, had caught Drew's attention. Stepping forward, he called out to her. "Go ahead. Do your worst."

Barla paused. "Hm?"

Marco looked at Drew. "Hey, maybe not call the scary dragon lady's bluff?"

Drew ignored him. "I said go ahead and try. We're not going to surrender anyone to you, and we're not going down without a fight, either!"

Star agreed with him, raising her wand like a batter anticipating a fast ball. "Yeah! You want the smoke? You're getting it and the fire!"

Marco shrugged his shoulders and got ready to fight. "Yeah, we're just getting started and you're by yourself out here."

Jackie aimed her spear at her. "We're not afraid of you."

Hunterborg prepared the Hunter Claw. "We've beaten enough of you clowns to know we'll beat you, too!"

Strikerborg punched her palm, creating a thunderous sound. "So come on, square up!"

A few moments passed, and the group of warriors watched Barla's grip tighten on the blade and her teeth clench, hints of frustration that gave away her hoping for them to fold rather than call.

Underneath his helmet, Drew almost felt vindicated. She's different from the others.

Out of nowhere, Janna joined the call. "Hey, Sad Kid. Can you link up what you're seeing to Gargantis?"

Drew gave a start. "Gargantis?" He didn't hesitate to comply. "But wait, hold on. It needs the Input Magnums to work, how is it connected?"

Atop the hills that formed the valley Hillhurst Mansion sat in, a massive Hercules Beetle-shaped robot with a black, silver, and yellow body stomped into position, shaking the ground beneath it. Its upper horn, shaped into the mix of a jet fighter with a very, very big cannon, was lowered and aimed into the town.

Inside the cockpit of the machine, Janna sat in the middle of set of five seats that made up the cockpit. "Don't worry about that, just um…" She broke into a grin when Barla as Drew saw her appeared on the panoramic cockpit screen in front of her, and the position data allowed Gargantis to lock onto her with its main weapon, the Beet Cannon. "… Get clear."

Stingerborg looked back at the others. "MOVE!"

Everyone scattered clear, to Barla's confusion, as inside the cockpit Janna received an alert that the Beet Cannon was ready to fire. "Satisfy my destructive urges, Gargantis!" She called out. "Beet Cannon, FIRE!"

The Beet Cannon erupted, the multi-colored beam passing over Echo Creek and reaching Barla as she turned to see it. Her eyes widening, she tried to move but realized she was being held in place by Stingerborg's telekinesis. She closed her eyes tight before her mask slipped over it and extra armor covered her exposed arms and legs.

The beam smashed into her, pushing her up the street and carving a narrow trench into it, the angle of the blast eventually drove her under the street and then under the ground and sewers beneath that before it finally cut out.

Strikerborg looked at the damage done, then at the distant Gargantis. "… Dude."

Jackie was of the exact same thought. "Uh… dude."

Star was in awe. "… That was so cool…!"

Steam hissed from vents along the barrel of the Beet Cannon, as Janna hugged herself in satisfaction.

"Oh yes, that felt good."

There was a small explosion, as Barla erupted from the ground and landed behind the crater she made, parts of her now full armor still glowing red hot and wisping smoke as she glared death at her opponents. She looked around, seeing no signs of her remaining Scabs, and realized that the other four must've destroyed them.

"A fine display," she commended them, "But this is only the start."

With that promise, she raised her sword to her chest in salute and vanished in a burst of black flame.

= - = 8-6 = - =​

I think the biggest take away from this chapter, is everything that happened in this chapter.

 

[The Ero-Sennin]

And with the end of the battle, we walk into the aftermath of the battle.

= - = 8-7 = - =

|Defensive|​

As Barla observed, a police perimeter had been established by the authorities, the Echo Creek Police Department was bolstered by the LA County Sheriff's Office, Los Angeles Police Department, and Glendale Police Department. Throughout the battle, SWAT Teams from the latter departments had gone in and aided in the evacuation of civilians from inside the perimeter, while several heavily armed units proceeded closer to the scene.

Overhead, the Magnavore Jet Fighters had kept manned news helicopters out of the scene, but large quadrotor drones had no such concerns and had their cameras on the battle right up to the moment a great flash of light beamed down from the San Gabriels and ended the fight in an instant.

When some of those cameras pointed towards the source, they saw no sign of the new attacker. News reporters from all over Los Angeles were covering the incident broadcast all over the city.

"… As you can see right now, whatever attacked the monster invading Echo Creek has vanished. We're unsure if it was another attack from the magical girl, Star Butterfly or something else."

In the Diaz home, Rafael and Angie were both cheering in relief at their son and charge standing victorious again. Elise, however, had her face scrunched in consternation. Behind her, standing by the door, were two plain clothes Detectives of the Echo Creek Police Department. An African American male in his late 30s with short-shaved hair, wearing a suit and sunglasses, and a Japanese American woman in her late 20s with bright red hair, and her own styled suit and sunglasses combo.

"For those of you just tuning in now, we're covering yet another attack on the town of Echo Creek by heavily armed and aggressive members of an unknown organization. As previously, this attack has been foiled by a group of young people local to the area, described by some as 'teenagers with attitude' and 'a bunch of weirdos.'"

In Middleton, Colorado, Ron Stoppable looked up from his meal at Bueno Nacho at one of the televisions in the restaurant showing the crisis underway in Echo Creek. "I wouldn't call them weirdos, they all seemed pretty cool."

Across from them, Kim Possible had a worried expression. "Well… so much for no one taking them seriously…"

Next to her, Kim's boyfriend Eric narrowed his eyes a bit. "Yeah, if the news is covering it like this, then they're no longer small-time heroes getting into cosplay fights, are they?"

Seated beside Ron, Bonnie Rockwaller fed a nacho cheese slathered tortilla chip to Ron's naked mole rat Rufus, while she leaned against Ron. "So… are you guys going back to help?"

"If they ask," Kim replied.

"This is just the latest in a series of escalating incidents that came to the attention of law enforcement in the Los Angeles area, following the sighting of Unidentified Flying Objects and the discharge of energy weapons in the airspace over Echo Creek, and a more dramatic incident the following day where a Goodyear Blimp was attacked and brought down. The crew of the blimp in that incident suffered only minor injuries and are expected to make full recoveries."

At his home, Shermie Pines watched the news grimly, his attention focused on the drone image capturing his Granddaughter and their friends standing out in the open–clearly in discussion over their recent battle. His right hand rested atop Waddles head, the pig lazing on the couch next to him. "Haven't seen this kind of craziness downtown since the King riots."

He looked down at the pig. "Think girlchik will mind if you tag along for some good ol' fashioned gunrunning? If they're making the evening news, don't think I can put off the trip any longer."

Waddles, looking at the TV, oinked in agreement.

"A government source who's spoken under condition of anonymity has stated that the serial escalation of the conflict in Echo Creek has been brought under the scrutiny of not only state but Federal law enforcement–going as high as the Department of Defense."

Dipper and Misao stared at the latter's phone, after the latter received a text message from Elise advising her–urgently–to bring up the local news and watch.

"Maybe sending Janna out was a bad idea," Misao said.

"No, we needed the firepower to push her back," Dipper decided. "And we may need even more of it."

He looked up at the main computer screen and two windows open on it. One showing Gargantis' current status and the other showing Gargantis in an alternate configuration: its large silver carapace opened and the three AVs mounted on its unfolded back.

"… And we've just received word that the police are slowly closing the perimeter on the teenage vigilantes, in order to detain them for questioning."

The news was only reporting what was already happening, for on the street in front of Britta's, the LA County Sheriff, LAPD, and Glendale Police Department SWAT Teams that had been creeping towards the group exited their cover and approached them with Carbine Rifles, Submachine Guns, and Shotguns trained, shouting orders to get on the ground and place their hands behind their heads.

Unsurprisingly, given they'd just fought an extremely powerful creature from another dimension, they were not immediately moved to comply by the display.

"Oh, the cops are here," Jo said, "This is not surprising but still very inconvenient."

Jackie was downright indignant. "Dude, I am not getting arrested for helping people."

It was about then that Dipper called in. "You guys need to get out of there, the cops are moving in to arrest you."

Mabel chimed back. "They're trying!"

Roland was tense. "So… we have to exit."

Drew agreed. "Yeah, but how without them getting really determined to chase us down?"

Misao radioed in. "Our legal representation says that you can disengage and leave the scene as long as you don't make any aggressive action but suggests that one of you should stay to distract the cops. She'll get you out without any charges."

Marco looked at the others. "I'll give them someone to take in. You guys get out of here."

Jackie looked at him, worried. "Dude, don't."

"If Elise says she can get one of us out, then fine. It'll give them someone to yell at."

Mabel nodded. "And feel good about themselves for not being able to do anything else."

"The po-po do be like that," Jo lamented.

Drew turned to Marco, grateful. "Thanks, Marco… and be careful, okay?"

"Yeah, bruh, you're a real one," Roland praised.

Jackie looked even more conflicted as Marco looked back at them and offered a weak smile.

Star, on the other hand, quickly caught Marco in a hug. "Thank you, Marco. I'll see you soon, okay? I'm not going to deactivate the spell so they can't rough you up, too much."

Marco hugged her back. "Thank you, mi cariñito."

Pulling from her, Marco placed his hands behind his head, got down on his knees, and then laid flat on the ground. Star quickly cut a portal open with the Dimensional Scissors, and she, the Beetleborgs, Mabel, and lastly Jackie took off through the portal. As it closed behind them, the combined SWAT Teams rushed over and placed Marco–still under the protection of Star's Rainbow Sentai spell–in handcuffs.

Overhead, the news channel drones captured the scene in the highest quality, a reporter offering a play by play.

"… The police are moving in and have detained one of the vigilantes, but it appears the others have used some kind of portal technology to escape apprehension…"

At Zoom Comics, Heather watched the unfolding news with a hand over her mouth in quiet shock. At one of the tables, Alfonso and Ferguson were in disbelief.

"Dude… they got Marco," Ferguson said in dismay.

"Free Marco! This will not stand!" Alfonso declared. "This is considered by the Pixie Kingdom an act of war!"

Behind the cash register, Nano scowled angrily at the pathetic display on television. "I'm about to go down to the station and flip that whole mother upside down!"

As Heather nodded in agreement, she noticed out the corner of her eye someone walking past the front of the shop outside. It was TC, now wearing a black hoodie with the same picture as on his t-shirt and pulling the hood up and over his hat as he walked.

In a living room not too far from Echo Creek, a young man with messy black hair and lighter brown highlights running through it, hazel eyes, and dressed in a stained blue hoodie and baggy beige pants sank into his couch with a look of utter disgust as he watched the police, and the media reporting make a big show of apprehending one of their suspects.

"… From 'young people local to the area' to 'vigilantes' in the span of a news report," the young man said bitterly. "That must be a record."

Getting up, he grabbed the television remote and threw it with all his might into the television screen. It struck with such force that it punched a hole through the screen and out the back. He turned away from the destroyed TV and headed for the stairs to his room.

"Whoops, looks like Dad will have to use his next paycheck for a new TV."

@@@@@​

At Noxic's workshop, the factory assembling Scabs was well underway, with Noxic himself nodding appreciatively as he oversaw the work. "The first batch did pretty well, overall. I gotta say."

Jara sat at a table; her right hand flat on its surface while she stabbed the spaces between her fingers at increasing speed with her short sword. "They could be better, though. Why haven't you bothered?"

Noxic placed his hands on his hips. "The Commander Types are a few circuit-boards removed from my bespoke creations. I ain't giving any of those to Vexor!"

Typhus, who was sitting across from Jara, chimed in. "The Commanders also have their own personalities and can talk. And uh… you know how that sorta thing goes with Noxic, baby."

Noxic turned around to face Typhus. "Hey! The Commanders work! I programmed them based off Jara, so they got discipline, honor, and all that warrior stuff she likes!"

Jara almost stabbed through the table. "… They do now?"

Quickly, her mechanical friend backtracked. "Conceptually, on paper. I haven't actually built any Commanders nor programmed their AI."

This was a lie.

Jara knew this.

Noxic knew that she knew. And so did Typhus.

Barla arrived before she could properly interrogate Noxic about the last known status of these conceptual, on paper, units programmed after her likeness. The black dragon armored warrior was in one piece, physically at least, and her armor had receded to its lighter state. Her face, however, bore a mask of turmoil that even Noxic could recognize at a glance–being friends with Jara for so long had taught him much.

"Barla!" Jara said as she yanked her sword out of the table. "The Scabs were destroyed, but their last report showed you doing well. How did the battle end?"

Marching up to Jara, Barla grabbed her shoulder and got close to her. "You are underestimating them."

Jara's mood soured. "I am doing no such thing! They are children, Barla, they are not like us!"

Without hesitating, Barla shouted right back at her. "We were children once, too, Jara! We were once unsure and without focus, surviving by providence, and winning by any means because we had nothing else but the determination to survive!"

Noxic almost physically lit up and rushed to Typhus' side. "Hey, buddy! More Jara lore!" He whispered excitedly.

"Shut up, I'm tryna listen!" Typhus whispered back.

"You called them children playing out a fantasy," Barla said sternly. "I saw none of that when I faced the one who felled Saberizer. Or as the others actually fought like they understood their mission."

Jara sneered. "They read comic books like they are addicts. Anything that comes out of their mouths is probably taken verbatim from that trash."

"Conviction is more than words! I think you've spent too long with your client to remember what that is!"

Barla's words sent a flash of fury through Jara. "I remember what conviction is just fine! There is none of that with any of those children. Much less the Butterfly or that blue-wearing lucky idiot!"

"Lucky is surviving one battle. How many have you fought with them that has seen you come back here, stewing in your injured pride and resentment?" Barla demanded. "How many times did they best you before you thought to bring Saberizer here, only for HIM to be defeated?! You call that luck?!"

"I call that being saved by their powers, not by anything of their own!"

Barla's eyes flashed yellow, before she viciously slapped Jara across her face. The force of the blow was enough to knock Jara's mask clean off, sending it clattering to the ground towards the pile of scrap that bordered Noxic's workshop. Armored cape and all, Jara staggered to the side, frozen in shock.

Her face twisted in rage; Barla seethed. "You are not the Commander I fought alongside. The woman who helped me defeat a Star Eating Dragon and forged its body into this armor as a mark of pride and confidence in my abilities."

Tears welled up in Barla's eyes. "You're nothing but a pathetic shell, so torn up over being beaten by 'mere children' when the woman I remember would have been impressed and sought to bring them into her ranks. Or would regard them with actual respect."

She turned away from her. "I'm confident that Saberizer would've acknowledged being defeated by that boy in the blue armor. In fact, I am certain he did. What I do not know is what happened to you that made you so wretched."

She glanced back at her, but only briefly. "From now on, I will be taking orders only from the client. Do not show yourself before me, Jara. I cannot bear the sight of you."

With a nod, Barla disappeared in a burst of black flame. Left wrecked in her wake, Jara slowly sank to the ground, still frozen in shock and disbelief.

Typhus and Noxic had been so excited for Jara lore, but now they most certainly were not. Both looked at one another, unsure of what to do as they looked from Jara to her dislodged mask, and then back at her. She was not facing them, thank goodness, so neither could see her face–or the look they could only imagine on it.

Unsure of what to say, Typhus got up from the chair. "Hey, Jara, baby… do you need a minute…?"

It felt like an eternity had passed, before she replied. "More than a minute."

Typhus nodded and turned to Noxic. "Hey, we gotta get ready for phase two anyway. Let's give her some room."

Noxic agreed. "Hey, Jara, if you need to blow off some steam, you can have a couple Scabs to trash. Just give the command, okay?"

With that, Jara's two companions nodded their heads and also departed in flashes of fire.

Left alone in the workshop, Jara looked at her mask, lying in the dirt but facing as if to stare back at her. It was a face she'd gotten so used to seeing that she'd long forgotten what her actual face looked like.

Slowly, she brought her fingerless gloved hand up to her right cheek. Touching her skin, she almost flinched at the sensation as she kept staring at the mask.

"Barla…" She said quietly. "… You could never understand. You never will."

Vivid images flashed behind before her eyes. Comrades frozen in stone, locked in horror, casting long shadows beneath a light that caused even the sun to leave a shadow. Of a smiling face like an angel in the terrifying heart of that incandescence, with glowing marks on its cheeks.

She shook her head, banishing that nightmare from her sight. The pure rage and vile disgust the memory stained in her almost drove her to retch, but she held her composure.

"I cannot, I will not accept defeat from those things, even if I must die."

Once more she shook her head as the image of Star Butterfly jumped at her.

"Not another Butterfly, and certainly not a child treating our lives and pain like a game–a joke."

The image of the Blue Stingerborg haunted her with as much searing pain.

"Not after that day."

@@@@@​

Marco had been taken to the Echo Creek Police Department, and promptly brought to an interrogation room in handcuffs. Rather than a concrete room with a cold and intimidating atmosphere, it was rather cozy and professional with a carpeted floor, comfortable couch and a chair beside it, a desk and chair combo across from the couch, and a wooden door. It seemed like a school counselor's office–except for the CCTV cameras in each corner of the room.

Since he'd been taken into custody, he hadn't uttered a word to anyone, as instructed. The police didn't make it easy, either, trying to strike up a conversation about everything on the way to the station and from the unloading zone to this interrogation room. Since they did not take him in for booking, he realized that he was not under arrest, which made him wonder why they had him in here.

Good, Elise really will get me out of here without trouble, he thought, before he looked around and realized. Wow, I've been detained by the cops… this is gonna do big numbers at school.

He couldn't not be excited by that idea. Not only was he technically taken into police custody, but they had to get the SWAT Team on him, and it was on some BS reasonings. The bad boy was actually a hero, and still getting heat for it!

A thought then occurred to him, that the main reasons he wanted to be a bad boy was so that people would not drag him for being the Safe Kid… but since that day a few weeks back, he was friends with people that were already more important to him than popularity.

The door opened, then, and Marco looked up as a woman wearing a lime-green business casual suit walked in. At first sight, everything about the woman screamed "Karen", from her shoulder length blonde hair, the light makeup applied in vain to hide the lines of middle age, and the sheer contemptuous look she had the very moment she looked down on him. In her left hand she carried a clipboard with a single sheet of paper on it.

"Mr. Marco Ubaldo Diaz, am I correct?" She asked with the enunciation of a teacher who had a delinquent dead to rights.

He didn't reply, exercising his right to remain silent while avoiding eye contact with the woman. She looked at the paper again, then let out a short quick laugh. "You're in High School, so I don't need to ask if you realize your initials spell out MUD."

That stung. Marco really didn't like his middle name, but he held his tongue. She was trying to get a rise out of him, get him to say even one word.

Seeing that she got nothing, the woman took a seat at the desk and folded one leg over the other. "My name is Tara Bouger, I'm a special investigator with the Glendale Police Department, working as part of a task force with the Echo Creek Police Department, Los Angeles Police Department, and LA County Sheriff's office."

She tapped on the paper. "Young man, do you realize how much trouble you're in, with what you've done, today?"

Marco almost immediately wanted to ask, "What do you mean what I've done?" but once again, he realized she was trying to get him to do exactly that. He held his tongue and kept looking away from her.

Tara's eyes narrowed at his lack of response, and she looked down at the paper. "From the looks of things, you're running around with a very dangerous looking crowd. Getting into fights in the streets, causing property damage, and wielding some pretty exotic weapons with the intent to harm."

She looked up from the paper at him and got no response. "To say nothing of the people you're fighting with, who we have no idea what kind of crap they're on. What is it? A rival gang? Another cosplay crew muscling on your turf? Is there someone pulling some strings, giving you an incentive to get out there and cause trouble?"

Again, Marco said nothing.

"Because we don't know what's going on," she continued, "Which is why we had to arrest you."

Marco knew he wasn't arrested. He was being detained but not arrested. He did not realize cops could just lie like that.

"Are you going to keep quiet like this? Because we need to know what's going on before people start getting hurt, Mr. Diaz, so we can work together here and bring in whoever is responsible for all this violence."

Bring them in? Marco really could not imagine Jara, Typhus, or even Noxic obediently being booked like common criminals. It would never happen, not in a billion years, and he was pretty sure no one in this police station could bring them in if they tried.

Tara leaned forward slightly, her eyes hard despite her empathetic appeal. "Who's making you do this? Who's putting you out there in harm's way, kiddo?"

Marco glanced out the corner of his eye at Tara, and when she sat back to wait for his answers expectantly, he looked away again. This seemed to get a rise out of the woman, who bristled slightly at Marco's silence.

"It's in your best interest to come clean," Tara explained. "We've got you attached to a lot of things, and how that plays out for you in court depends entirely on if you can clarify how involved you are."

She was trying to scare him with threats of facing a judge. Was Marco a criminal? Of course not, he was fairly sure coming to the defense of others and defending himself was not a crime. Not that he'd speak up to defend himself. He was starting to wonder what she'd say next to try to scare him. Maybe something about his school record and how badly an arrest would look for his future?

"And we want to avoid that," Tara continued. "You don't have a record, and from what we know about you… you're a top student at your school with healthy college prospects. UCLA isn't going to like any kind of gang affiliations."

Huh, he called it.

Also, gang affiliations? Kim did say that cosplay heroes and villains were a thing, how bad was it?

Both he and Tara sat in silence after that, Marco stonewalling her efforts at getting any words from her and the woman clearly not liking the impasse. Every so often he'd glance at her, and see the corners of her lips tug downward, or the wrinkles on her forehead furrow as she sought an angle or opening to get him to speak up.

Suddenly, a small smile played on her lips, like she'd found something. "You don't want to worry your parents, do you?"

Marco tensed. She was going there, wasn't she?

"They seem like decent folks, but you and that exchange student living with you… your actions aren't going to reflect kindly on them," she pointed out. "Especially if we can find proof that your parents are encouraging this kind of reckless endangerment."

She stopped. "I mean, most certainly your exchange student friend will have to go back to her home… wherever that is, but…" She looked at the paper again, then at his face. "You do realize if your father does get in trouble for this, he's going back to where he came from and will never be allowed back here, right?"

Anger flashed over Marco's face, and he slowly looked back at the woman. He'd seen that look in her eyes as their gazes met, a genuine enjoyment that she got a reaction out of him, a pleasure in that she knew exactly what button to hit and how hard to hit it.

It reminded him too much of that vapidly smug and superior face of one Trip ex-Vanderhoff.

"We don't want that any more than you do, Mr. Diaz," she continued. "So, cooperate with us here. Tell us what's going on."

Marco stood stone still, staring at the woman, everything but his lips moving as he shook in anger.

The door opened, and two Echo Creek Police Department Detectives walked in. An African American male in his late 30s with short-shaved hair, and a Japanese American woman in her late 20s with bright red hair. Both wore sharp suit and sunglasses combos, and both were accompanied by Elise.

"Special Investigator Bouger, I am Detective Xavier Bishop of the Echo Creek Police Department, and this is my partner, Detective Mirai Hashimoto." The first detective introduced himself in a deep commanding baritone. "With us is the legal representative for Mr. Marco Diaz, Elise Dinkleman."

Marco sagged in relief when he saw Elise. Finally, he could get out of here. In that brief moment, he had never been angrier at anyone. Not even Trip, not even Toffee… he was already exhausted, and this felt like the worst night of his short life.

Tara stood up and greeted them. "Oh, detectives. Lawyer."

There was an icy, and dismissive tone when she said lawyer, like she was speaking to an insect.

"Yes, I am a Lawyer," Elise replied. "With Baxter and Taylor. You've heard of them, yes?"

At the mention of "Baxter and Taylor," Marco saw a glorious thing. All the color seemed to drain from Tara's formerly smug face as if she'd just been locked in a room with a very large, very hungry grizzly bear and there was a freshly killed deer leg tied directly to her neck.

She quickly coughed and tried to recompose herself. "I'm sorry, d-did you just say Baxter and Taylor?"

Elise reached into her pocket and produced a card. "Here you go, in case you want to contact me in the future."

Tara took the card and read it, that paleness of her face gained a greenish hue that was starting to match her obscenely bright business dress.

Detective Bishop grimaced at the woman's reaction, and then looked at Marco's beaming countenance. If he hadn't had the same reaction Tara had when Ms. Dinkleman introduced herself, he'd be enjoying it as much as he was. "We're releasing Mr. Diaz into her custody. He's not been charged with anything, so he's not under arrest."

He turned to Marco. "Sorry about this, son, you're free to go."

"I hope you've been keeping my client good company, and making him feel both welcomed and safe," Elise continued. "He's had a rough day, and it would look pretty bad on all the departments involved if he had anything to complain about."

She turned to Marco. "Well, anything to complain about?"

Marco was now smiling ear-to-ear. "Nope! Everything was fine actually. I didn't have anything to say, but she sure did make the minutes fly talking about nothing at all."

He turned to Tara, still smiling. "Right?"

At that moment, Marco was pretty sure he got a glimpse of pure hatred as Tara looked at him with an impotent fury that dwarfed Trip ex-Vanderhoff's rage and his own for Trip in turn. Three words had punched this woman's soul out of her, and if she didn't want to get it suplexed on cement, she knew she could only respond with one.

"Right," she replied like she was being forced to bow in supplication by the Echo Creek PD Detectives.

Tonight was a great night; Marco would do it all again just for this. 10 out of 10, no notes.

"All right," he said. "I'm ready to go."

Elise nodded and gestured for him to follow her. "Right this way, Marco, your family is waiting at home with pizza and wings."

"Sounds great, I'm starving," Marco said as he followed Elise out of the interrogation room.

As they left and the door swung all but shut, Tara whirled upon the two detectives. "You must be out of your God Damn minds if you actually believe that that… that punk has the most powerful law firm in this country as his representation!"

"He does," Detective Bishop said. "We checked the Bar; we called their office. Elise Dinkleman is an attorney employed by them, and they have record of Marco Diaz being a client of Baxter and Taylor effective yesterday. Him, Star Butterfly, Mason and Mabel Pines, and Misao Darlian. The daughter of HHI's Momiji Hyuuga Misao Darlian."

Tara recoiled. "Wait… the daughter of…" She looked a bit dizzy at that. "Momiji Hyuuga does not have a daughter."

Detective Bishop's partner spoke up. "She does, they keep it kind of low profile because… well… when Shego attacked the school, yesterday… she was after her."

Detective Bishop pinched the bridge of his nose. "That… is another can of worms we don't want to open."

Tara dropped back on the couch, deeply shaken. "So… that's it? We can't touch any of them?"

Detective Hashimoto sighed. "Nope. At this point, you'd need the DoD to actually go after them now. And given that Baxter and Taylor represent some of the Pentagon's most important contractors…"

Slowly, the blonde shook her head. She was struggling now with the earth-turning revelation. "When you called Glendale to assist; you guys implied that this was just another bunch of SheZows running around causing trouble."

"We thought that, too, until this afternoon," Detective Hashimoto said in consolation.

"From what we have been told so far, the situation is very difficult and at the moment may possibly be a global-scale threat," Detective Bishop explained. "We'll be getting a full brief on the situation by the end of the week. But for right now, we need to downplay and diminish this to avoid causing a panic."

Tara snapped alert, then, and glared at the two detectives. "A global-scale threat? And we're just leaving it to a bunch of punk kids with guns?!"

"I did say it was difficult," Detective Bishop reiterated.

Detective Hashimoto shrugged her shoulders. "Shoot, we let Kim Possible get away with it."

"Kim Possible isn't a costumed delinquent causing property damage and making a show about it!" Tara snapped back at them.

「しょうがない。」 Detective Hashimoto simply said in Japanese, earning a nod in agreement from Detective Bishop, before she switched to English. "What can we do?"

"I believe there's also an implication that we should assist however we can," Detective Bishop said. "It may be unacceptable to some of us, but for the third time… this is a difficult situation. If we don't like it, how can any of them like it any better?"

Tara had heard enough and got up from the couch to push past them. "Detectives," she said as she reached the door and stopped. "Take it from someone who is familiar with the mind of a vigilante: they are degenerates who do as they please because they have powers, a secret identity, or a cult following. They love it and they will lord it over those we who are bound by duty to uphold the law. If they get too powerful? The law itself will break down and they will become the law."

She pointed at both of them. "Do not hand your balls over to these brats. Pentagon Lawyers or not, we are the law. We enforce the law. And we must not let any costumed freaks think they can flaunt it. Or their friends."

With that she marched out of the room.

The redhead detective looked up at her partner, left eyebrow raised way up. "… X, she is really the last person to be talking that shit."

Detective Bishop pinched the bridge of his nose. "I know, Mirai, I know."

= - = 8-7 = - =​

New enemies, new allies, and... seemingly random people who don't like the police? Who knows!

 

[The Ero-Sennin]

I'mma tell you here, SheZow is going to play a surprising roll here in the story...

= - = 8-8 = - =

|Off the Hook|​

Riding shotgun in Elise's minivan, Marco basked in his victory this evening. He was an enlightened man, he saw for himself and understood now why his friends all regarded the police with suspicion. In some ways he was disappointed, in others elated, but beside all that he was confident he'd be reluctant to trust another policeman so implicitly like the Safe Kid in him once would.

"I'm proud of you, kid. They really tried to screw you over, but you stuck to the plan and now you get to sleep in your own bed tonight."

"Yeah, I'm really surprised… I also kind of understand now why rich people act out like they do."

"Right?" Elise flashed him a quick smile. "Don't abuse it, or we'll dump you in a deeper hole than the one we put Trip and Van in."

Marco raised his hands in supplication. "Message received! I am ten toes on the ground and dug in; I'm not going to take advantage of you or what you're doing for us."

Elise didn't need to hear that. "Of course you aren't–I was just teasing. You're a good kid, you're all good kids… and that's why I'm here to help you so this isn't as hard as it's going to be."

As hard as it was going to be. After fighting Barla, Marco implicitly got the meaning. These fights were going to be harder, and they were going to need a lot of help to get through them at this rate. Not just his friends, but their families, and people like Elise running interference for them and speaking when they can't.

They were also probably going to need guns. Lots of guns. "I'm not going to lie. The idea of it getting harder worries me. This new one we're fighting was tough. And now they're attacking the town itself? What do we do about that? What if they start attacking at different times, to try to throw us off? Or go after other places?"

Marco tightened his jaw as Elise shot him a glance. "What do we do if there's something worse out there than Vexor and the Magnavores?"

A good question, Elise wondered that, too. "Hope that when you run into it, you'll be ready."

She smiled encouragingly. "We'll make sure you are."

@@@@@​

"Has he answered yet?" Brittney demanded as Dudley pulled the G-Wagen into a neighborhood between where the battle took place and their school. Beside her, Sabrina checked her phone and shook her head.

"It was sent but he hasn't read it yet," she lamented as Dudley pulled up to a line of houses that bordered the town's eponymous creek. "Maybe he's busy."

Brittney considered today's battle and nodded. "Yeah, or maybe he got caught up in the fight today, too. Who knows."

"I hope he's okay."

At that, Brittney snorted. "I'm sure he'll be fine." She insisted, even as she decided to check something when she was done here. "He's going to text you soon, don't freak out before then, okay?"

"I'll try." Sabrina was having a micro-freak out every several seconds since they escaped the battle.

"We have arrived, Master Sabrina," Dudley informed.

Sabrina managed a weak smile. "Thank you, Dudley. And thank you for protecting us earlier."

Dudley nodded back to her. "Of course."

As Sabrina climbed out and closed the door and began to walk up the driveway towards the side of her house, Brittney turned to Dudley. "Say, Dudley, what do you suppose are the odds that Drew is one of the Beetleborgs?"

"Extremely high, Master Brittney. I was there the first day that the Pines Twins arrived in Echo Creek, he, his sister, and Master Roland associate with them."

Brittney scowled. "It's good circumstantial evidence, but I won't be satisfied with that. I need you to take me to Star Butterfly's house."

"At once, Master Brittney." As Dudley put the car in drive and pulled away from the curb, he noticed the edges of his vision begin to blur.

Staring at her message to Drew and the sent icon, Sabrina sighed as she reached the side door of her home, that would reach her kitchen. As she went into her pocket for her keys, movement from the corner of her eye made her jump, and she spotted TC in his hoodie step around the corner from her house, from the direction of her backyard.

"… Mr. Darnell?" She asked in confusion.

TC looked just as surprised to see Sabrina. "Oh! You made it out of there all right. I'm glad."

"I-I was about to say the same thing…" Sabrina said. "It's good that you're safe but… what are you doing behind my house?"

TC looked back. "I got out of there by running to the creek and hiding under a bridge, luckily none of those Scabs noticed me so I was able to book it. I was actually just climbing over the fence to go back to the street when I noticed you. What are the odds, huh?"

She agreed. "Yeah, one way or another I didn't think we were going to meet again."

"Oof!" TC said with a laugh. "That one hurt."

Sabrina managed a nervous chuckle herself. "Well, again I'm glad you're okay… but I should get inside."

"Oh, of course!" TC said as he lifted his hat up slightly. "But before I leave, I want to ask you something."

Sabrina paused. "… What?"

"I don't normally ask this to specific people, but…" TC's smile grew. "Would you like to be on a shirt?"

@@@@@​

"What do you mean you hot-wired Gargantis?!" A disbelieving Jo demanded. "You didn't need to hot-wire it!"

"No," Janna conceded, before she snapped her fingers and pointed at Jo, "But I wanted to."

Jo stopped and weighed on that. "You know what? That's fair, go on, Queen."

They were all gathered in Star's room at the Diaz household, after receiving word from Elise that Marco was already on his way home. Food had been delivered, soft drinks were served, and Star was waiting downstairs excitedly for Marco's return. With the crisis regarding Marco not a crisis at all, the atmosphere was slowly easing its tension.

"However she wanted to do it don't matter. She stood on business," Roland pointed out.

"Big business," Mabel agreed.

Janna hooked an arm around Misao's shoulders and pulled her close, poking her chest with her other hand as she pointed at her. "It's thanks to this guy. As soon as we saw how Big and Bad Barla was, she had me out there."

Misao giggled. "Danke schön."

Drew, opening a soda with his mind, held the can up in salute. "And you drove her off when we needed you to. That's some Super Sentai timing."

"Super Sen-timing," Mabel chimed in.

"I'll remember that one," Drew said.

Jackie was sitting at the end of Star's bed, drizzling some ranch dressing over her slice of pizza. "So, when Marco gets back, we need to talk about how we're gonna fight that Barla chick. She was way too strong."

Jo was in agreement. "Yeah, what's up with that? Everything we hit her with she just shrugged off like she was early-career Brock Lesnar."

"2002 to 2004: The worst period in professional sports entertainment history," Janna lamented.

"The key to defeating her lies in the Big Bad Beetleborgs movie tie-in issues," Drew said.

"108 through 120?" Dipper asked.

Drew nodded. "She was the main villain throughout that entire year of comics, but it was revealed that she was only the herald for the arrival of the movie-only villains."

"And since the movie didn't come out those comics haven't been recirculated and are rare as hell," Roland added to explain their rarity.

"Non-canon, too, until the movie finally does drop," Jo felt she needed to add.

Jackie looked around. "So, we're getting them, right?"

"Ja, of course!" Misao assured her. "Very first thing in the morning we will go to Zoom Comics and I will buy them from Nano, paid in cash."

"And the other rares we're missing," Drew said.

Jackie relaxed. "Sweet. You've read those comics though, right?"

"Obviously I have not," Jo said.

Drew shook his head. "Never got around to it, because, well…"

"I have," Roland said. "And believe it or not… they're actually not very good."

Jo nodded. "Because Marvel was being pushy about them, and the Chairman insisted that each comic have a guest artist and writer to make a big deal about the brand."

"It went poorly, because suddenly Art Fortunes had to work with people he'd never worked with before at best, or outright hated at worst, and it showed on the pages." Roland continued. "The writing was mid, the art was all over the place, and the story was so janky because of problems with the film production that in hindsight they're all a really hard read."

"Speaking of working with Art," Dipper said. "Misao, is there anyone you can connect us with to maybe get a meeting with him?"

Misao brightened. "I have a friend who is working on the new Beetleborgs film. And my would-be host family, too."

Silence reigned in the room, as everyone stared at her.

It was then that Misao realized… that this hadn't come up before. "Ah."

Jo, being Jo, broke the silence. "You know people working on the Beetleborgs film?! Who?!"

Misao shrank some, becoming smaller than she already was. "Um… Cynthia McDougal–"

Jo screamed. "YOU'RE FRIENDS WITH FUCKING REDDLE?!"

"We went to middle school together in Switzerland!" Misao quickly explained.

Roland shook his head. "Jo, chill. It's not like we could've used this info earlier, we've been busy!"

"Yeah, so much has happened… and is going to keep happening until we deal with the Magnavores for good," Drew said.

The door opened, and Star stepped in. "Guess who's back from doing a bid~!"

Marco walked in. "Hey guys!"

"MARCO!" Mabel, Misao, and Jackie all shouted at once, before Jackie beat them to running up and hugging him.

"Dude, how was it?" She asked.

Mabel and Misao reached him next, joining the embrace. "Yay, you weren't police brutalized!"

Janna then spoke up. "You didn't snitch, did you?"

"I didn't snitch, I didn't talk at all!" Marco snapped back.

"Relax, I knew you wouldn't."

No longer mobbed by the huggiest of girls, Marco went over to Star's bed and sat on it, both Star and Jackie joining him on it as he grabbed a chicken wing from a box. "Anyway, I got some bad news."

"Bad news how?" Dipper asked.

"Well, the Glendale Police Department is part of the police task force thing that swarmed us."

Everyone who was from Los Angeles in the room made faces of disgust.

"Okay, I'll bite," Dipper said, "What's the deal with Glendale?"

"Glendale PD has its own superhero," Jo said. "Or rather, its own supercop, and she's a massive bitch."

"Yeah, she is," Marco said before all but biting through the bone of his chicken wing. "She tried to make me talk by threatening that my Dad would get deported."

Mabel made a face. "That's foul."

"Dude, saying it lightly," Jackie seethed.

Roland dropped her name. "Yeah, she'd say something like that. Freaking Tara Bouger, also known as Major Blast II."

Jo continued on. "If you look up the word Karen in a dictionary you will see her face next to it. She hates superheroes, brown people, and dogs."

"She hates people not being inconvenienced by her in general," Janna said.

Drew sighed. "It's been nice, but if she's got legal permission to act here, next time the Magnavores attack we may end up fighting her, too."

"You mean we'll get to fight her," Jo said. "I don't know about you guys, but if she does pull up? She's getting exactly what she deserves."

"Well, yeah, but it's going to be annoying."

Dipper wasn't too concerned about police interference. "As long as we stay focused on the Magnavores, the police and any pet supercops they have won't be able to do much without it being a bad time for them. We just need to keep our heroism above board."

He looked at Star. "Which means after we're done here, you should get back over to Britta's and clean up the mess."

Star nodded. "I can do that; I wanted to do that! But, you know, the cops."

Drew spoke. "So tomorrow we have to pick up the comics with Barla in them so we might have some understanding of how to defeat her, and we have to prepare for what might be another Magnavore attack as soon as tomorrow… and somebody died at our school under suspicious circumstances that we're not allowed to go near."

Mabel brought up the bright side of it. "Hey, at least we have the rest of the week off."

Janna was about to add another important event from today, when Drew remembered. "Oh yeah, and there's that room in Hillhurst that reacts specifically to Star and Marco, complete with a magic armoire that will only open for them."

The room went quiet as Dipper slowly turned to look at Star and Marco.

"I'm sorry… what?!"

Marco, Star, and Jackie all nodded in unison. "It's true. It's weird."

Janna further confirmed it. "We were all freaking out until the Magnavores gave us something more important to worry about."

"Did you open it?!" Dipper demanded.

Marco shook his head. "We couldn't, we're missing a key."

Dipper had to know. "A key, what kind of key?"

"I don't know," Star said, "It was shaped like an S."

"An S-shaped Key?"

"Yeah, the letter S," Marco said. "We're not sure about what it means."

Roland hummed. "An S-shape, huh… I think Nano might know; we'll ask her tomorrow."

Dipper was now going through the same implications Drew had. "… Wait, what does the house mean to you and Star? Why are Flabber and the Monsters there? Were we supposed to be there?!"

"Oooh, a strange destiny? It wouldn't be the first time!" Mabel said.

Dipper turned to Star. "We need to go back to Hillhurst right now, I need to see this!"

Star reached into her purse and pulled out the Dimensional Scissors. "I wonder if we'll be able to go directly to it."

She snipped open a portal, and sure enough, it led directly to Wolfy's Room. "Oh, hey, it let me in–" Dipper all but bolted through the portal into the room. "Hey! That's our room!"

"And that's weird!" Dipper shouted from the other side of the portal.

As Star, Jackie, and Marco followed in after the others, Drew got up to follow when he felt his phone slip from his pocket. Stopping, he picked it up as the screen came on and showed a message from an unknown number. "… Huh…?"

Opening his screen and going to his messages, he stopped when he began to read it. "Wait, this is from…"

He trailed off, as the edges of his vision started to blur, like tears were starting to form in his eyes.

@@@@@​

In her driveway, beside her house, Sabrina was surprised at TC's offer. "M-me? You want to put my face on a t-shirt? I… but my face is so… normal…"

TC laughed. "Nonsense! I think you'd look great!"

She wasn't sure. "But… doesn't' that go against your theme? The whole point of your artistic vision?"

TC shrugged his shoulders. "Well, you see…"

A car at the end of the driveway honked its horn, startling both of them. Recovering from her fright, Sabrina looked at and recognized the car before its driver opened the door. "Wait…"

Heather stepped out of her Audi. "Oh, hey Sabrina!"

Sabrina was confused. "Uh… hey, Heather… what's up?"

"I was on my home from work, when I saw you and just remembered I forgot to tell you some things about Drew, and…!" She stopped when she noticed TC. "Oh, I'm sorry, who's this?"

Sabrina brightened, mainly since they were going to talk about that boy she liked. "Oh, he's…!"

TC raised a hand, laughing. "Actually, hold on a sec." He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. "Oh shoot… my agent is blowing up my phone like crazy, worried about me. So I gotta bounce."

He gave Sabrina a smile. "Take care of yourself, I'll see you whenever, but who knows…"

He nodded and tipped his hat to Heather. "Nice meeting you."

With that he headed down the driveway and began walking down the street, bowing his head low and pulling his hoodie down over his baseball cap. Watching him go, Sabrina looked disappointed. "Oh, just my luck."

Heather turned to her. "Who was that?"

"TC Darnell, the artist," Sabrina revealed.

Heather tilted her head. "… Who?"

Sabrina paused, and then got a bit awkward as she realized. "… I guess he's someone who'd only hang out in Brittney's circles, I only know about him from her, myself."

She pulled out the t-shirt he made. "He gave me a t-shirt he made just today."

Heather's eyes grew wide when she saw the shirt. "… Oh! I know who you're talking about, now! He's that t-shirt artist, who does the weird faces!" She turned and looked back the way TC was walking away in. "Wow… and he just gave one to you?"

Sabrina nodded. "He gave Brittney one, too. I was so surprised."

Heather glanced back at her car. "Say, you wanna go hang out? I know Britta's is off the table, but there was some stuff I wanted to tell you about Drew since you're going to be asking him out."

Sabrina looked at her house. "Well, I just got home, but…" She wanted to know more about Drew. "… Actually, would you like to stay over for a bit?!"

Heather nodded. "More than anything, let's go inside."

While Sabrina and Heather headed inside the house, Drew gave a surprised start as he recognized the message and his face colored. "Uh… wow."

Janna suddenly leaned over his shoulder. "What's up, Sad Kid?" She read the screen, and her eyebrows rose. "So… Sabrina wants another taste, huh?"

Turning to her, and extremely aware of her nearness, Drew was unsure of her intent. "Well, is… uh… that a problem?" He asked.

Janna looked at the phone, and then him, smiling. "No, if she wants to hang out, you should hang out. She's cute, you're cute, be cute."

Patting him on the shoulder, Janna leaned close and whispered. "But be gentle, Sad Kid, you might be too much for her~"

"H-hey!" Drew snapped as Janna swept off–snapping her fingers and pointing at him like they were guns–and headed for the portal. "Look, are you into me or not?!"

Janna stopped at the portal and looked back at him. Jo, Roland, Mabel, and Misao all looked at the two of them.

Finding herself on the spot, Janna nevertheless remained entirely cool. "Well… isn't that obvious?" She stepped into the portal. "Don't let that discourage, you though, I'm generous."

With that she headed through to check out the hilarity in Wolfy's room.

Everyone still in Star's room turned to look back at Drew. Jo was surprised that it just happened, Roland was proud and happy for his boy, while Mabel and Misao were both watching all their ships sail with excitement.

Drew… just didn't know how to respond to this.

"… Huh."

= - = 8-8 = - =​

That was a close one.

 

[The Ero-Sennin]

And with this, we close out Volume 8. I hope you've enjoyed the read, and look forward to the next one. It's already well underway, and there's going to be quite a few changes, twists, and turns as we start to go beyond the borders of Echo Creek.

= - = 8-9 = - =

|The Heroine|​

When night fell in Echo Creek, strange moons illuminated the dark. Perched atop towers almost 150 feet tall, the harsh, unrelenting light of Carbon Arc Lamps pierced the haze created by the town's Oil Derricks and danced off the metal with the same vibrance as the sun. It was an unearthly sight that Dr. Hillhurst found both unsettling and excessive.

So much light and yet it made an already contaminated place appear more hostile to life.

Letting gravity take his bicycle downhill, he coasted to the edge of town and to a pace no faster than a casual stroll as he made for the heart of the town and the vicinity of the Post Office. The Arc Light, still several blocks away, beamed down unmoving across the night sky, causing buildings to create long and threatening shadows in the alleyways of the few buildings not replaced by derricks… to say nothing of the crisscrossing tangle of darkness cast by the derricks themselves.

Turning left at the corner adjacent to the post office, he rode down the dusty road past nothing but oil derricks, heading further into Echo Creek and the domain of Emily Blakesfield-Bonner. The everpresent haze and fumes of oil and the steady, noisy chorus of slowly working pumps was nauseating, making him yearn to cover his mouth with a handkerchief, as futile as that would be.

For several minutes he rode on, fighting his disgust at the forest of progress, before his destination came into view. A foundry hard at work even at this late hour, the night shift workers taking on the task of casting the metal that spread the damnable derricks.

Securing his bicycle at the entrance, Dr. Hillhurst dismounted and covered his mouth with a bright orange handkerchief as he headed to the foreman's office. Reaching it, he gave it a brisk knock, before taking the knob and letting himself in.

"Mr. Backintosh, are you in?" He called as he stepped into the office. "I need to speak with you about an order."

A deep, annoyed voice called from the shadowed back of the office, lit by a small arc light in the ceiling. He was a typical factory man, broad shouldered, strongly built, with a full head of dark brown hair and matching eyes that burned with contempt in the low light. "The hell do you want, Hillhurst?"

"Doctor Hillhurst," he happily corrected.

"Fuck off with that," Mr. Anthony Backintosh barked at him. "I'm not dignifying a Diploma Mill Doctorate. Now what do you want, Hillhurst?"

Dr. Hillhurst played coy. "Oh, nothing much, I just need brass for… Mauser 7.63mm and Colt .45–"

"Mauser?!" Mr. Backintosh cut him off. "Who the hell did you talk out of a Mauser on this side of the world?!"

Dr. Hillhurst smiled, having piqued the bitter man's interest. "It's not mine, a client came right to my door asking for ammunition in Mauser. I couldn't believe it myself, until I saw it. It's pristine, Anthony, the well-used weapon of a man who does well by it."

Mr. Backintosh glared at Dr. Hillhurst as he steepled his fingers. "I take it you have an example for me to work from?"

Dr. Hillhurst reached into the pocket of his coat, and produced five shell casings, before handing them to him. "Look, ye mighty, and despair."

Mr. Backintosh picked up one of the casings deposited on his desk and marveled at it. "Fucking hell… that's real 7.63mm…" He turned it over and looked at the bottom of the cartridge. "… Avameros…?"

Dr. Hillhurst hadn't noticed that. "Avameros?"

Mr. Backintosh held it up. "The headstamp… I know this. Avameros is short for Avalon Armeros, a custom cartridge and firearm manufacturer that only does work for European nobility."

He set the cartridge down. "Be honest with me, Hillhurst. How'd you get hold of this?"

Dr. Hillhurst hummed, before he answered. "European nobility, hmm? Like I said, it's not for any weapon of mine; a client commissioned me and I'm here to pay you to get the brass made."

He reached inside his jacket and pulled out an envelope. "I need it made quickly, so I'm paying up front the full price for a standard order, with the promise of double that when the job's done."

Dr. Hillhurst tossed the open envelope onto the desk. Mr. Backintosh could see a considerable amount of money inside. The foundry foreman looked up at the alleged Doctor, intrigued.

"I was going to charge you extra for the work in machining something in a rare caliber, but you're a step ahead. I can't say no to money like that, especially since we're making these damn oil pipes at a loss."

"At a loss–?!" Dr. Hillhurst stopped and scowled. "Don't tell me…"

He nodded. "Revolutionary as she is, no one trusts the innovations of a woman whose family's history is wreathed with deceit and trickery that would do the Northwests offense."

Dr. Hillhurst made a face at that name. "Of course."

"Nevertheless," Backintosh continued, "I'll get started on this tonight. You'll have enough brass to arm a company by the day after tomorrow."

Dr. Hillhurst beamed. "Oh, Anthony, you are my savior in the night. My client and I are immensely grateful and wish success and happiness to your family for generations to come–"

"Get the fuck out of my office," Mr. Backintosh said curtly, with no patience for Dr. Hillhurst's eloquent praise.

"Fine! I'm leaving, asshole!" Dr. Hillhurst abruptly declared, with a quick laugh before he was out the door.

As he walked back out into the putrid night, Dr. Hillhurst pondered what he learned. "Avalon Armeros, shooting demons with silver, hunting beasts…"

He hummed. "Are you what I think you are, Teddy?" He mused aloud. "I may have to consult the Master for his wisdom on the matter…"

When he turned towards his bike, however, he found it gone from where he left it. "… The Devil…?"

He looked down the street, and saw a young boy perched upon it, looking at him with a big smile on his face. Locking eyes on the ruddy young man, Dr. Hillhurst saw red.

"Hey! You look like you can barely read, lad, what makes you think you can ride–?!" To his dismay, the boy turned and rode off on the bicycle as fast as he could. "Damn it to hell!"

He broke into a run after the fleeing thief. "Get back here! That derailleur is not patented yet!"

The bicycle thief only laughed as he pumped the pedals as hard as he could, quickly picking up great speed. "Shows what you get for not keeping an eye on–"

His taunt turned into a scream of terrified disbelief as he found Dr. Hillhurst almost within arm's length of grabbing the back of his shirt and yanking him bodily off the bike. Turning away, he kept screaming as he rode faster, trying to stay ahead of the sprinting doctor.

Cutting a hard right, the boy aimed for the alley between two buildings, narrowly escaping a grab and ducking down it. Staggering to a halt, Dr. Hillhurst took several deep breaths before he sprinted down the alley, disappearing into the darkness after him.

"Get! Back! Here! I've outrun Soapy's boys in a dead heat, you won't get away from me!"

His boast echoed in the alley. The smack of a fist against his face immediately followed.

The blow stunned the doctor, and he collapsed against the brick masonry wall of the warehouse before a pair of strong hands lashed out from the dark and shoved him into a gaslit clearing. Stumbling to a stop, Dr. Hillhurst turned around and stopped when a familiar face strode out of the dark towards him, his dark eyes grim but his lips curled in a satisfied sneer.

"Hutchinson, my boy!" The Doctor said as he backed up with hands raised. "Fine time meeting you this late…"

"I said I'd be coming straight for you!" Hutchinson swore before he swung at Dr. Hillhurst, who deftly sidestepped the swing despite his fading dizziness.

"I seem to recall!" He said before he evaded another punch. "But I assumed you'd be coming to my door, not luring me in the alley by stealing my bicycle." He ducked another and circled around Hutchinson, putting his back to the way he came out of the alley and facing his assailant. "That's not very straight for me, good man."

He noticed more figures moving in the dim light, the two associates that he'd bested earlier in the day along with Hutchinson outside of the Baldwin homestead. The boy who took his bike was in the back, grinning like a loon in anticipation. His lips dipped into a frown. "I say, you're serious about this, aren't you?"

"I want my piece back, Hillhurst."

"Doctor Hillhurst," he corrected, "And I'd gladly exchange it for my property had you thought of just that. As it stands, you've taken my bicycle and assaulted me, so I'm afraid only one of us is coming out of here satisfied."

"Yeah, the three of us," Hutchinson said as he raised his fists to brawl.

Dr. Hillhurst shook his head. "I said one of us."

The world fell quiet as Hutchinson lunged towards him, and slowed to a crawl. Staring at him, and the two other men moving in the shadows, Dr. Hillhurst's mind began racing as he analyzed their approach.

Three men, unarmed. Man on the left, mild signs of concussion from earlier blow to jaw. Man on the right, cracked jaw from previous chin strike. Point man, Hutchinson, smells of alcohol. Responsiveness lowered due to consumption of three glasses of whisky.

He sniffed.

Four glasses. Liquid courage.

He watched as Hutchinson began to raise his arm.

Hutchinson will attempt a wild haymaker. Evade by moving out the path of the punch and striking him in the liver.

Sure enough, Hutchinson swung his haymaker and was immediately punished with a blow to the liver.

Crack his ribs on his right side to evacuate air in his lungs, then uppercut to chin, he'll fall back into the man on his right.

He struck Hutchinson again, then landed an uppercut. Sending the man stumbling into the man on Dr. Hillhurst's left. Looking right, the Doctor saw his opponent coming at him with both hands clasped above his head, to bring them down like a hammer.

Five glasses of whiskey, desperate, afraid. This is all he thinks he can do. Right jab him in the nose, then left cross in the jaw. He will crumple straight to the ground.

Dr. Hillhurst did just that, quickly punching the man in the nose. As his hands dropped to cover his broken nose, the "Doctor" slammed a left cross into his jaw, and in short order the man sank to the ground, properly concussed. He looked at the man he used Hutchinson to knock down, and he was clutching his unconscious leader in his arms like a fallen brother in battle while staring at Dr. Hillhurst in terror.

Two drinks, just sober enough to realize how outmatched he is.

"PA!" He heard the boy who stole his bicycle in the first place exclaim in horror, before rushing to the other unconscious man and trying to stir him. "Pa, wake up! Wake up!"

Seeing that, Dr. Hillhurst sneered in disgust. "Of course, men of low character would dare to pass a legacy of violence onto their children."

He turned and looked down the alleyway, furious. "I do recall saying something to the effect of offering a man enough to feed him and his, and he'll do whatever is necessary. A hypocritical, contemptible wretch like you would of course take and twist it into the vilest of things, Ms. Blakesfield-Bonner!"

Two sets of footsteps approached from the darkness, before the elegant and composed Emily Blakesfield-Bonner stepped into the dim arc light. Far from the impassioned teetotaler who spoke of shutting down dens of sin and the virtues of sobriety, she wore a cold, malicious stare that bore through Dr. Hillhurst–a deep and wide hatred that only dared show itself at night.

His hands folded behind his back; the man who walked beside her remained in the dark. Dr. Hillhurst noted him, before focusing on her.

"Is it no wonder that men turn to crime in this town, your town? You drive them from their homes, turn verdant, lush land into oil-soaked, dead dirt, force them to work for next to nothing in your factories, and then take every fruit of that labor for yourself. Oil, and broken men, that is all you are interested in producing."

Emily sniffed at Dr. Hillhurst's damning words. "It is not for nothing that men break in the service of progress. Every drop of oil drawn from the earth fuels and lubricates the machines of industry that will turn this country from an afterthought to a great power. I facilitate it, the sacrifice of those who work for me ensures it."

Dr. Hillhurst wished he'd brought a gun, or even his cane to strike this woman down and dead where she stood. "And that is all they are, broken pieces of your great work–"

"Exactly," Emily said sharply. "Men who can be replaced and will be. Who need nothing but to know their place and will be rewarded for it. Those who cannot, who will not, have no place in this world… let alone in my sight."

She stepped aside, and the man who accompanied her stepped forward. In the low light, Dr. Hillhurst was surprised to see, of all people, an Asian man approach him slowly. He was close to his age, maybe older, and wore the popular attire of the Chinese Immigrants who'd settled west and south of Echo Creek near the sea and the heart of LA.

Dr. Hillhurst's anger was obfuscated by astonishment. "… Is… is that a Chinese man?!"

Emily nodded. "I've grown weary of the fancy martial arts you keep hospitalizing my hard-working employees with."

"Bartitsu, it's all the rage in London," Dr. Hillhurst quipped.

"Whatever barbarism it is, I've chosen to fight it with barbarism." She nodded to the man. "Ping, deal with him."

Dr. Hillhurst rolled his eyes in disgust. "That's probably not even his name."

"I did not hire him to know his wretched life story, only to put an end to yours."

The Chinese Man, whether his name was actually Ping an irrelevant point, slipped his hands from behind his back and bowed to Dr. Hillhurst before assuming a front stance with his right hand and foot leading. As with Hutchinson and his boys. Dr. Hillhurst's mind began to race as he sized up his opponent.

Stone cold sober, breathing even but deep and open, pulse at rest. There is no tension in his body, only anticipation in his nerves. This man is not like those I've dealt with. I need to be quick and decisive if I am to defeat him. This mustn't register on an emotional level.

Dr. Hillhurst looked at his hands, then his feet, then back and forth as his hand reached for the handkerchief in his coat pocket.

First, I'll distract the target by throwing my handkerchief at his face, then block his blind attempt to grab, and counter with a cross to his left cheek. Then, discombob–

The next thing Dr. Aloysius Hillhurst knew was that he was being punched in the face repeatedly by the Chinese man, who'd grabbed him by the collar of his suit and began using his face as a speedbag with his other hand.

Behind the Chinese man, Emily smiled in satisfaction as she watched the subject of her ire take a long-awaited beating and listened to the sounds he made with each hit.

"Urk! Ough! Oof! Damn it–! D'oh...!"

"Honestly this is so long overdue," she said, "I've only known you for a less than a year and it feels like you've antagonized me for an age."

"Bleh–! Paddy–! Guh–!"

"Do you have any idea how much it costs to pay for the medical expenses of the men you've put into the hospital?"

"Of! Poit! Zort! D'apples!"

"To ensure that they and their families don't go hungry? Do you know how it feels to be in their shoes?"

She raised her hand, and the Chinese man immediately ceased punching Dr. Hillhurst.

Panting, his face already swollen in spots and blood trickling from the corner of his mouth, Dr. Hillhurst looked at Emily. "… I… don't know… do you know how it feels to be the farmers… whose lives, wives, and children are threatened by those same men if they don't give up their land so you can grow oil instead of food…?"

Emily made the most hateful face. "You talk far too much."

"I will… however… give credit where it is due. I am stunned that you've hired a man–for the first time–based entirely on the skills he possesses, and not the color of his skin." To the martial artist, he said to the man in note perfect Mandarin. "Congratulations on breaking the racial barrier, I hope you're being paid the thirty-five cents she pays her white thugs."

Ms. Bakersfield-Bonner recoiled. "You speak that gibberish?!"

The Chinese Man let Dr. Hillhurst go and answered in perfectly fluent English. "Thirty-five cents?! I'm only being paid twelve!"

Right away she realized what he did and scowled at the "Doctor" before snapping at her newly hired muscle. "It's more than your kind should get, now do your job or you don't get paid at all!"

The threatening crack of a whip made everyone in the alley jump and go very still. All looked up to see a feminine figure standing on the roof of the warehouse, illuminated by the larger Arc Lamp shining on the town. It was the gaudily dressed woman who'd foiled the robbery earlier in the day, the sequined jewels in her attire and the S-shaped ring on her right hand ring-finger gleaming fabulously in the light.

"Rest assured, amigo," she said to the Chinese Man, "You won't get your medical expenses as generously covered as the lady's white thugs either. So, reconsider your risk against reward."

The man didn't need to be told twice, turning and fleeing down the alley while flipping Emily off and saying some very colorful things in his native Mandarin. After watching him go, Emily looked up at the interloper with a fierce scowl as the other woman casually stepped off the edge of the roof, fell over thirty feet, and landed in a neat crouch unharmed beside Dr. Hillhurst.

Dr. Hillhurst gave a bloodied smile at the woman. "Never in my life have I been so fortunate to see someone so offensive to my eyes."

The woman stood upright and tipped her hat to Dr. Hillhurst. "Doctor."

She then turned to Emily. "Ma'am. I do believe that a lady of your standing need not be out so late. It's dangerous out here; you have no idea what could happen to you if you keep going 'round unattended."

Emily's cold gaze attempted to lance through the woman but was met with a smile that concealed not a threat but a promise. Huffing, she turned away. "'Doctor' Hillhurst, I hope this is the last time I have to lay eyes upon you."

"Hey, me too," Dr. Hillhurst replied. "It is dangerous out here, after all."

Scoffing, the socialite pulled out a handkerchief and threw it onto Dr. Hillhurst's face. "Wipe yourself off, Doctor, you live to see another day."

With that she walked into the alley, disappearing into the yawning darkness. The remaining conscious man of Hutchinson's trio dragged his boss out, while the simpering bike thief hauled his still unconscious father out after.

Dr. Hillhurst, taking his bike, stood it and rose to lean on it, when his savior came to his side and helped him stand. "Now, hold on, Al. You look like you took a bad beating there…"

He turned to her and smiled. "Really, you are too kind. SheHaw, was it? Are your sure I cannot call you Ja–"

"Not while I'm on the clock," she cut him off. "What in tarnation are you doing getting into fights at night with that whore's whores?"

"It was an ambush," Dr. Hillhurst said. "They used my one weakness, my attachment to personal property."

"And that you talk too much."

"I thought you were here to help!"

"Anytime and always," she said as she got him on his bike, took it by the handlebars, and began rolling him down the alley. "But I reckon you've been recklessly doing as you please, expecting none of it to catch up to you–and now that it has, you need to be told how you messed up, so you won't again."

Dr. Hillhurst sighed, as if to swoon. "Oh, SheHaw, if I could hold romantic desire for another. I would fall to my knee and ask you to be my bride."

"And I would laugh in your face at the very idea."

"Is it possible to love someone more platonically?"

SheHaw laughed as she wheeled Dr. Hillhurst out of the alley and pointed them both in the direction towards his home. "So, what was it this time?"

"She's making her way up the hills, going after the white homesteaders now. That woman's appetite for oil is insatiable."

With a snort, SheHaw shook her head. "Of course, she would."

"I stepped in, as usual, earned a rare prize from her polite young men, and that should've been that. I didn't even rough them up as much as I normally do."

"You've been at it with her for months, did you think she'd never be able to pull a new trick out from under her skirt? That you'd always just throw a few guys around, run them off, and receive all the thanks, beef, and wine you can stuff into your big mouth?"

"Sadly, the whites are a lot less grateful for my service to the community, so I think I'll be seeing less of that in the future," Dr. Hillhurst lamented. "While we're on the subject of disappointment: she was right there, you know… you could've slammed that whip right between her eyes."

"Oh yes and kick off the mother of all riots aimed at anyone darker than a caramel. Why yes, I would like that on my conscience." SheHaw scoffed. "She only plays this game because it's as much good publicity for her as it is for you."

Dr. Hillhurst fell quiet after that as he conceded to that point. The reason he was alive, the reason Emily Blakesfield-Bonner was alive, was because the latter treated it as a game… and if she lost, she'd make sure no one else could enjoy their victory.

Dr. Hillhurst swore one day he would throw it away and kill her, but it would not be this day. "You have to admit, though. The fact she actually hired a Chinese man to fight me is shockingly progressive for her."

That prompted a laugh from the heroine. "Hah! At this rate, she'll hire a negro next."

The thought filled Dr. Hillhurst with wonder. "Good Lord, I'd gladly let the man punch me all day if it got him paid his twelve cents an hour."

A softer, kinder laugh left her. "… And that's why I bother to rescue your worthless hide, Al… you never make it about you. Some man of confidence you are."

Dr. Hillhurst leaned against SheHaw and chuckled. "Ah, but that's exactly how a confidence game begins in earnest. You never make it about yourself, that's how you get the mark to trust you."

= - = 8-9 = - =​

SheHaw, like Yee Haw? Believe it or not, I watched SheZow for this (don't, like Big Bad Beetleborgs it's wasted potential and effort at every possible level even for its time), and for a show with so many god awful, I mean absolutely horrific puns... not introducing Old West SheZow as SheHaw was a wasted opportunity. Anyway, see you in the next one!

 

[The Ero-Sennin]

Been a while since this place has been active. Here's a capper chapter to bring it all together. Volume 9 is underway, had to do a bit of writing for 1899 arc and prepare for the story's scope to broaden, because things are about to get very complicated in Echo Creek.

= - = 8-EX = - =

|Resolution|​

Within the crypt hideout of the Magnavores, Barla emerged in a burst of black flame, walking up to Vexor as he read through the biography of Art Fortunes. Turning, he lowered the book and gestured to her with his unoccupied hand in a palm up, polite greeting.

"Dragonslayer Barla, it is good to see you returned alive; I sensed tremendous power during your battle, to the point it interfered with my scrying."

Barla nodded. "The battle was intense, more than I was told to expect."

Vexor found that curious. "Oh?"

"I've been told that these were children playing games, that when faced with a strong opponent, their resolve would shatter, and they would be exposed as the naïve fools Jara claimed they were."

Vexor detected how Barla's tone dipped and how she spat out Jara's name, when they had been so close at their reunion. However, he focused on Barla's observation. "I see."

"When we fought, however, they held their ground. No, when they saw the difference between us, they only attacked with greater intensity, determined to keep hitting me until something broke." She stopped and shook her head. "Even after all their efforts to harm me failed and I told them to surrender, they did not care and offered to continue fighting."

Barla looked at her scuffed and scorched armored gauntlets. "That is not the mindset of children pretending, that is a warrior's commitment to stand and fight, something that is supposed to be respected."

Vexor weighed on Barla's report. Despite the tremendous power he mentioned before… the battle was inconclusive. Indeed, Barla's armor bore the brunt of their ferocity. These were ominous signs regarding the success of this operation.

There was a greater concern, however. "Is everything well between you and Jara despite this error on her part?"

"No, and in the future, I will not associate with Jara directly. I will take orders from you, but not her. Nor will I join her on the battlefield unless otherwise commanded."

It was as Vexor worried. "What has brought this on?"

"Jara has demonstrated leadership, strategic, and combat ability not meeting the standards she had set out for her own Mercenary Army. For that, I have deemed her unfit as a warrior and leader and will disregard her as such."

A complication, and one that Vexor did not particularly care for. In less than half a day, the two mercenaries had gone from joyously reunited comrades to being on no speaking terms whatsoever. To say it could be a liability in future operations was an understatement. If their enemies learned of this discord, it would be a disaster.

He did not want to resort to this, but he had no choice.

"May I suggest, Barla," he began, "That you set aside this enmity towards Jara."

Barla did a double take. "Excuse me?"

"Since we arrived in this world, I have observed that Jara has not been herself in battle. Something has shaken her since our campaign started, and I fear that the death of Saberizer has deepened this trauma."

The Dragonslayer stared at Vexor in profound confusion, not expecting that explanation of Jara from him of all people. "… Ah… I see."

Vexor gestured to her. "In summoning you, it had been my hope that her morale would be boosted, and she would return to form. However, I see that has not happened."

He turned away from her, walking towards his sarcophagus. "Going forward, I suggest that the two of you discuss your differences in my presence, so that I may mediate and moderate your disagreement, and that you both may come to a resolution that does not interfere with or otherwise derail our campaign."

Reaching the end of the massive stone container, Vexor turned back to Barla and noted the strange look she was giving him. "Is something the matter?"

"No, it's not," Barla said. "As a matter of fact, what you've suggested is well-reasoned and sensible. I just wasn't expecting it from Vexor Gaohm."

"Oh?"

"From what I've understand, you're an insane egotist who thinks himself superior to both brothers of the Melzard Tribe and Bill Cipher."

Vexor chuckled. "That being true does not make me an insane egotist, Barla."

There it was. "How do you figure yourself superior to The Lord of Nightmares, The Abyssal King, and The One-Eyed Beast?"

Vexor gestured outward with both hands. "For all their power, the brothers of Melzard bicker like children, and that pointless, perpetual spat leaves them easy prey to the likes of Bill Cipher, who himself claimed to be all-powerful and brilliant in his insanity–but was little more than a trickster punching down upon lower beings. In every story I've heard of him, his undoings were against minds only slightly cleverer than the common ape."

"What you said about the Melzard isn't untrue," Barla admitted, "And honestly I've packed up enough of Bill's Henchmaniacs to see that in his absence they are more pitiful and non-threatening than he advertised them as."

She gestured to him. "Still, you'd never defeat any of them if you came to blows."

Vexor chuckled. "That goes without saying. However, through avoiding such blows, clarity of vision, and excellent fortune through the folly of our foes… I never have to."

He lifted his right hand aloft. "We are no longer prisoners of the perpetual entropic hell that is the Nightmare Realm. We can claim this reality for ourselves, and with time we can take any other reality we please while those fools we left behind burn in their prison."

With a sweep of his right arm, he gestured in the direction of Hillhurst. "Dealing with our enemies here is no different. Choosing how we engage them, disengaging as we see fit, manipulating the situation so we do not have to engage them. That is how the Magnavores will conquer this world, and then the stars, and then every corner of existence. That is why your assessment of them after this battle is so important and why resolving whatever conflict you have with Jara is even more so."

Barla was sold. More than convinced, she was impressed by Vexor. Of course he would have such an ego. Not only has his small group survived in the Nightmare Realm… they had gotten out.

"I see," she said softly, before she spoke louder. "Thank you, Vexor, for your criticism and advice. As… difficult as it is for me to bear it, I will speak to Jara and arrange that we settle things before you."

Vexor brought his hands together, grateful. "Ah, thank you, Barla. We can ill-afford any in-fighting. Fortunately, the next phases of our operation are in the hands of Typhus and Noxic, so you will have time to approach your friend."

Barla nodded. "Very well, I shall."

With that, Barla disappeared again in a jet of black flame. Alone in the crypt once more, Vexor folded his hands over his abdomen, as he began to pace around the sarcophagus, calculating a change to the strategy he set forth. One thing was for certain, he realized.

"I must be more hands on in my management of these four," he stated to himself.

@@@@@​

It was well after nine in the evening at the Diaz Household, and most everyone else had gone home after the hearty meal to celebrate Marco's safe return. Only Dipper stayed behind, sitting on the edge of Star's bed as Marco–extra tired from the long and climactic day–lay on the bed directly beside him.

Star was in her closet, moving things around inside the strangely large room looking for the Magic Instruction Book.

Dipper huffed in amusement, trying to distract himself from the fact he was sitting so close to him. "How hard can a giant book be to find?"

"You want to go in there and help her? Be my guest." Marco cast a dark look towards the closet, remembering the last time he was in there. "I'm not setting foot in that heap again without my own Beetleborg armor."

"That bad, huh? Sounds like Mabel's closet."

Marco sat up, concerned. "Wait, is having messy closets just a thing that girls do?"

Dipper shrugged his shoulders. "I don't think we can put Mabel or Star in the same category as other girls."

There was a loud rumble and thump, before Star let out a grunt in frustration. "Ugh, it was on my bed when we left earlier. Glossaryk, did you move the book in here?"

Almost immediately, a voice replied from under the bed. "Well, I'm not going to just let it sit around in the open. While I don't mind Janna having a look, that Jo girl has an evil glint in her eye."

Dipper and Marco both looked down at the floor just off the edge of the bed, as another, larger rumble filled the room. A large, dromaeosaurid dinosaur leaped out of the closet, Star perched upon its back and gripping its reins. She was dressed like she was auditioning for a spot in a Predator remake.

Both boys jumped back onto the bed, Dipper instinctively putting his arms out to shield Marco behind him, as Star leaped off the dinosaur and then slapped its flank.

"Go back inside, Sprinkles Refreshing," She commanded. With a loud coo, like a pigeon with the deepest possible voice, the dinosaur stalked back into the closet and the door shut behind it.

Star laid down on the floor to look under the bed, then reached under. "Well, then you can come out now…" She pulled back, the leather strap that bound the book gripped in her hand. "… Because we need to talk!"

She dragged the massive Magic Instruction Book out from under the bed like she was pulling a tire through a roadside drainage pipe to unclog it.

Emerging like said tire, the Magic Instruction book opened with a thud to reveal two pages: The first featuring snakes in varying shades of purple zigzagging across the page, and the second bearing a bleached white skull with glowing blue chains extending to the corners of the page–as though to lock the contents beyond it. And from the very center of the book itself, Sir Glossaryck of Terms emerged from a circle of blue light, floating with his legs folded beneath him and his arms tucked into the sleeves of his shirt in front of him.

Dipper's attention darted sharply from the locked page to Glossaryck, who was facing Star.

"Also, you didn't even offer me any food," he continued grieving over why he hid. "Maybe Glossaryck wanted some pizza and chicken wings, did it ever occur to you to ask?"

Staring back at him, Star slowly shook her head. "Not really, no."

Marco hit upon an idea, but kept it to himself, as Star pointed at Dipper. "But I did bring Dipper!"

Glossaryck turned around, the book's pages flipping towards the front and concealing the pages he emerged from, to face the indicated young man. "Oh, you… did?"

The little blue creature stopped and stared at the younger Pines Twin, an expression that a human could mistake for surprise appearing on his features before he floated up to and began circling around him as if examining a statue. "… Hmm…"

"Uhh… hi?" Dipper asked as he followed Glossaryck's path around him.

Glossaryck didn't respond, instead humming in interest as he came around in front of him. "… Curious."

He floated up to Dipper's face, and pushed up his curly bangs, revealing the Big Dipper-shaped birthmark on his forehead. "… Fascinating!"

Dipper's eyes narrowed slightly in annoyance. "Do you mind?"

Glossaryck pulled back and inserted his right hand into his left arm's sleeve. "You really are the Pine Tree; then Bill Cipher is truly dead."

"I hope so," Dipper said. "And don't call me 'Pine Tree' or 'The Pine Tree' or 'Conifer' or any nickname like that."

The strange creature nodded. "All right, Mason it is!"

"DIPPER," he corrected sharply.

Marco looked at Dipper. "Wait, your name's really Mason?"

"Do not call me that," Dipper said. "The only names I will answer to are Dipper or Tyrone."

Marco wasn't sure about that one. "I don't know if this is racist, but you do not look like a Tyrone to me."

"It is, and he doesn't," Glossaryck said.

This was getting off to a great start, said no one. In fact, everyone in the room with comprehensible minds thought the opposite as Star intervened. "Glossaryck! I said we needed to talk!"

"Right, of course," Glossaryck said. "But it's late, and I wasn't offered any pizza…"

Marco knew he'd go for it, and countered Glossaryck's childishness. "We have some leftovers, and it's still a bit above room temperature."

That changed Glossaryck's tune completely. "Do you, now? That's when it is the best for eating."

Dipper had to hand it to Marco as he continued bargaining with Glossaryck. "And you'll get all of it when you tell us everything we need to know without any riddles or cryptic wordplay."

"Yeah, no metaphors, either," Star said.

Glossaryck gave them all a disappointed look. "You're really taking the fun out of this."

"Well, it's the fate of the world," Star argued. "Maybe two!"

The tiny blue man's expression brightened at that. "Well, when you put it with such actual concern, how can I disagree? What would you like to know?"

Dipper was the one who asked. "You've been around for a long time; did you know a Dr. Hillhurst?"

Glossaryck went unusually still as he hovered in the air–like a figurine locked in time and space where he floated. The only thing changing was his face, his eyes widening as old memories resurfaced behind his diamond-shaped pupils.

"Huh, that is a name I have not heard in a long time," he said with the interest of a wizened sage being reminded of an old life. "Dr. Aloysius Hillhurst?"

"Yeah."

Glossaryck appeared to understand, and his next words confirmed it. "His house is still there, isn't it? And you found something in it you need my help to open."

The three teens all shared surprised looks.

"Can you?" Star asked.

Glossaryck shook his head. "Nope."

Marco jumped on that. "Are you able to?"

"Nope," Glossaryck repeated.

"Why?" Dipper asked.

"Because it's not my place to, and as it's not my place, it is not something I can open," Glossaryck explained. "Magic is funny like that. What I can tell you, is that you've probably primed two of the locks… you just need the third key:"

He waved his hands like someone exaggerating a mystical artifact. "The Warden's Ring."

Now they had even more questions. "And what's that?"

Glossaryck made good on his promise of straight answers. "It's a ring of great magical power, bestowed once upon a time to a group of powerful warriors called–well–Wardens."

Star asked. "Like… Jail Warden?"

"Warden is a funny word with multiple meanings, but in this case, it means protector," Glossaryck explained. "The Wardens were once guardians of Magic, serving to protect all dimensions from The Forces of Evil."

"Like Mina Loveberry, the Solarian Warrior!" Star said excitedly.

Glossaryck's expression shifted to one of mild distaste at the mention of that name–if only for an instant–as he confirmed Star's suggestion. "Erm… yes, like her."

Something that made this little weirdo uncomfortable? Marco was curious. "Who's Mina?"

"Oh, just Mewni's greatest warrior. She's basically our Kim Possible," Star explained.

Marco stopped. "Why haven't we called on her?"

"Because she'd tell my Mom," Star explained, "And that would be that."

Glossaryck agreed. "There are other reasons to not want to deal with Mina, but we'll go with that as the most pertinent one."

Expecting more details later, Dipper stayed on topic. "So, what happened to the Wardens?"

"Most of them are gone now," Glossaryck said. "The Warden of this dimension is one of the last. If not the very last one."

"What happened to them?" Dipper asked.

"It varied. Some simply lost their lives in the line of duty, grew old and passed on, or fought in a big civil war to try to conquer the multiverse and wiped themselves out. What I know for certain is that there's hardly any left. The last Warden I knew was a friend of Dr. Hillhurst, who took it upon herself to be the protector of this dimension."

There sounded like a lot was going on back in Dr. Hillhurst's day. "How much do you know about what happened with Dr. Hillhurst?"

"Yeah, why is there a shrine that only reacts to Star and I?" Marco asked.

"Not a terribly great deal. I only met Dr. Hillhurst briefly," Glossaryck said as he looked from Marco to Star, "As your Great-Great Grandmother Celena did not rely on me as much as other bearers of the wand."

"Great-Great Grandma Celena came to Earth before?" Star asked, surprised.

Glossaryck nodded. "Of course. This dimension has a long history with Mewni. Celena visited here, your Grandfather on your mother's side is from here–"

"WAIT, WHAT?!" Star shouted.

"Your mother didn't tell you?" Glossaryck asked, before he realized the pointlessness of bothering. "Oh, who am I kidding? With how she foisted you on your father and Royal Guard and only steps in to discipline you, it's no wonder you barely know anything about her."

"My mother didn't…" Pausing, Star took a moment to reflect. "… Okay, yeah, she did do that. A lot."

Marco and Dipper shared awkward looks as the conversation took a turn despite their best efforts.

Star, prescient of this, valiantly stopped making this about her. "Anyway! You don't know why Great-Great Grandma came here, right? Did you find out… at all?"

Glossaryck shrugged his shoulders. "Honestly, it wasn't something she talked about at all, to anyone. Not that she talked about much of anything, there's a reason she's called Celena The Shy."

"So how do we find this Warden?" Marco asked. "If this all happened that long ago, then she's probably as long gone as Celena."

Glossaryck stroked his beard.. "That's true. Given how the Warden Ring survived through the ages into the last century, however, I don't doubt that she passed it on to a descendant."

"How do we find her descendants, then?"

The tiny creature chuckled. "Oh that one's easy: just look for the strongest person around dressed in pink, and you've found this world's Warden."

"Pink?" The three said in unison again, before Marco's eyes shot wide in recognition.

"… There's no way," he said suddenly, in awe and a little fear of the coincidences he's encountered today.

"Who…?" Dipper asked.

Marco looked at Glossaryck, then at Dipper and Star. "I think he's talking about SheZow."

A moment of silence passed, before Dipper asked. "… The same SheZow who got run out of her hometown on a rail and has not appeared since?"

Another moment of silence passed, before Marco palmed his face with both hands. "Of course…"

Star rested a hand on Marco's shoulder. "Don't worry, Marco! I'm sure we can find SheZow, and who knows… maybe we can get her to help us against the Magnavores!"

Dipper agreed. "She's right. After everything that happened to her, I think SheZow would love to have a comeback."

Surprisingly, Glossaryck was on the same page. "I wouldn't mind meeting a Warden after everything that was said and done with them."

"Then we have another thing to ask Elise about," Dipper said. "I feel like getting the armoire open will answer a lot of questions about Hillhurst Mansion, Flabber, and the monsters."

Glossaryck perked up. "Ooh, I'd like to meet them, too. You wouldn't mind introducing me some time, would you, Star?"

"Not at all," Star said.

"We'll probably need to bring the book over to the house anyway," Dipper said. "Something this useful should stay in the Beete Battle Base"

That was a good point. Before further plans could be made, there was a knock at the door. When all looked over, Angie opened it and peeked inside.

"Marco, Star, there's someone outside who wants to see you, one of your classmates," she revealed.

Marco turned to her. "Huh, which one?"

"Brittney," Angie revealed.

The three teens all looked at each other, and then at the time. What could Brittney Wong want at this time of night?

@@@@@​

With the help of the Dimensional Scissors, Drew and Jo stepped into the small backyard of their home, fenced off and out of view from their cul-de-sac neighbors in their almost identical and prefabricated clay shingle-roofed homes. Looking at one another, they nodded and crept around the side of the house and reached the open garage door containing their family's vehicles.

"There's no way Dad's not up," Jo said. "He's going to give you shit."

Drew shrugged his shoulders, as they went to the door leading to the kitchen. "I mean, yeah? School got cut early, and we've basically been no show all day. What else is he going to do but bitch at me?"

Jo couldn't help her snicker at Drew's harsh attitude. She was even more amused when Drew simply stepped into the kitchen rather than attempt a discreet entrance. He strode ahead of her, headed into the living room.

Mr. and Mrs. McCormick were both waiting, turning to look at Drew simultaneously as he came into the living room. Mr. McCormick, his expression droll and unimpressed as always at first, grew genuinely surprised when he saw his son's bandage-free and unblemished face. Mrs. McCormick, her own usually down-cast if not neutral look lit with genuine concern, moved to rise from her seat, but then stopped in confusion when she saw Drew's face and the general lack of concern in both her children.

"Andrew…?" She began, before Mr. McCormick raised his hand up off the armrest of his chair in a calm, halting gesture. Pausing, she quietly yielded to him as she retired back to her chair but stayed on the edge of it.

Drew and Jo's gazes lingered on her as they turned to their father, who did not bother to rise and was schooling his expression as he adjusted his glasses with two fingers. His gaze was locked on Drew, looking at him in the same way one would look at a crack they had just discovered in their car's windshield after an already bad day.

"Where have you two been? Why did you not come straight home after school?"

"We were hanging out with Roland," Drew said, before Jo could.

"At Zoom?" Mr. McCormick asked, sounding like he'd take that affirmative and then call Nano for the security tapes to be sure.

"No, we were practicing karate all day," Drew explained.

Sensei Brantley didn't have cameras in his dojo.

Mr. McCormick found that unusual. "Since when do you practice karate?"

Jo stepped in. "Since a couple weeks ago, Dad. We practice over at the Hill-Trank Plaza like three times a week."

Their father narrowed his eyes in suspicion. "Aren't you two a little old for karate kicks?"

"You're never too old to start," Jo argued. "Plus, it's something for us to do beside read comics all day. That's something you've been on us about, right?"

On Drew about, but Jo was in something of a fighting mood and throwing some shit back in a hater's face.

Expressing his doubts, and wanting to focus on his son, Mr. McCormick let out a dismissive hum before gesturing at Drew's face. "What happened to your bruises, and the bandages?"

Bringing a hand to his cheek, Drew blinked owlishly before he shrugged his shoulders with the same dismissive energy. "Oh, I guess I got better."

"Better, huh?" Mr. McCormick scrutinized Drew's face before looking him up and down. "No… I think you lied about getting beaten up. To try to get sympathy to go to your dance."

Drew lowered his hand from his face. "Uh-huh, and since when could I expect sympathy from you?"

Silence fell on the McCormick household's living room following that. Mrs. McCormick drew back slightly, her eyes widening slightly with apprehension as Jo looked up at her brother, impressed.

Drew stared his Dad down, feeling the same intense defiance that he faced Barla with earlier. "Full disclosure, Dad. On Friday and Saturday I snuck out of this house under your nose to attend the homecoming game and to go to Karate, and I'm glad I did, because both times I ran into Brittney Wong–who showed more human decency to me than you have in my entire life and took me to get treated for all those injuries you scoffed at me having and still grounded me."

He slipped his left hand into his pocket and gestured with his raised right palm from side to side. "All so I could go to the dance, which I did while you were out playing charade date night with Mom."

Jo held up her phone, showing a picture of a selfie she took with Drew, Roland, Sabrina, Janna, Chantal, Megan, and Brittney. Drew had his arms over both Janna and Sabrina's shoulders as all three beamed at the camera, Roland was tipping his hat with his cane and smirking while a grinning Megan hugged his side. Chantal and Jo were making cute pouty faces at the camera, while Brittney simply had an expression of being too glamorous for any picture even with remains of pie on her face.

It was such a good picture, being completely ruined by the news of Dipper breaking the news at what happened at Hillhurst some few minutes later.

"See?" Jo said. "Drew even danced with a cheerleader, it was so much fun."

Mr. McCormick stared at the image on the phone, his face fixed but his eyes giving away his confusion. He looked up at his son, who folded his arms and quietly dared him to say something passive-aggressive.

He did not disappoint. "Even with the picture, I find it hard to believe that's you."

"Yeah, well… that's really always been your problem." Drew said, before he began counting on his fingers. "If I get hurt; it's my fault. If I stand up for myself, I'm wrong. I fail at something, I'm not good enough. But if anything happens to go my way? You cannot believe it, or that's not right–like in your eyes I'm supposed to be a loser who's not allowed to have anything."

Drew let his hands drop to his side. "I have a great idea, Dad. How about you keep your passive-aggressive mind games to yourself, because I'm not afraid of them–or you–anymore. Just listen to your shitty Eagles and pretend you're the most normal guy in the world who needs to bully his own son to feel like he's achieved anything in life."

With that, he turned and headed upstairs. "Oh, and Don Henley and Glenn Frey would call you a loser if they ever met you!"

Jo watched her brother go, then looked at her parents. Her mother was ashen, her normally tired eyes wide with shock as she covered her mouth with her fingers.

Mr. McCormick, however, just sat frozen, watching Drew ascend the stairs. Jo could see it in his eyes. The irrational contempt, the indignity of being told off by someone he looked down on like he was an insect.

She hated that look so much, and she still didn't understand why he was like this.

If she could do it, she'd just walk up and swing at his face.

With all of her might.

"… Jo, go to your room," Mr. McCormick said flatly. "Don't be like that loser."

No, he wasn't worth it and never would be.

"Sure thing, Dad," she said as she headed up the stairs. "And he's right, you know."

Rather than bother to hear anything he had to say in reply–he thankfully didn't–Jo walked over to Drew's room and tapped on it. "Hey, it's me."

A few locks turned before the door opened. Drew was sitting on his bed, looking at his phone as she stepped in and closed it behind her.

"So…" She began. "… When are we ending this relationship?"

Drew looked up at her. "Honestly? We can do it anytime, now. Trip and Van are gone, and after dealing with Barla, and Jara? Why am I afraid of that piece of shit?"

"I'm surprised you haven't force-choked him out, yet."

"He is not worth any of that."

"Oh good, we're on the same page."

Drew looked at Sabrina's message again. "Dad's just a bitter jackass who's made my entire life about being lesser than him. If there's anything worse than your personality being 'having money' it's building it around your own son being your sworn enemy for life."

"Some Manga Gendo Ikari bullshit, just without our Mom being a giant robot."

"Or you being a weird clone of her I have conflicted feelings about."

"Ew."

Both laughed at the absurdity of their lives being anything like Evangelion, before Jo gestured to her brother. "Say the word, and I'll drop the hammer. And by the hammer I mean Nano. Dad will be gone and we'll probably find out why he's even got it out for you."

"Honestly? At this point I don't even care about the why. I really just want him gone like the 'Hoffs."

"Bet!" Jo said brightly. "You don't even worry about it, then. Just focus on dealing with the bad bitches and bad bitches causing you problems and leave the rest to me."

Drew chuckled. "Yeah, thanks." He looked down at his phone again, at Sabrina's awkward yet eager text asking him out. "I'm probably going to be busy this week, so I'll be happy to have another pain in my neck gone by the end of it."

"So we can focus on the real aches, right?" Jo went to open the door. "By the way… Sabrina or Janna?"

"… Between them and Heather, I don't know," Drew admitted truthfully. "I don't really know how to deal with girls."

"Don't look at me, I don't know how to deal with girls either and I'm pretty sure I'm one," Jo said.

"Well, I've always liked Heather; with Sabrina… I dunno, I don't think I've ever hung out with a girl who just likes me, and Janna…"

She fascinated him, as much as she got on his nerves.

Drew smiled. "I don't get Janna."

"Cryptids I do understand. Of course you don't get Janna. I don't think even Star or Mabel get Janna. I think the only person who actually knows Janna's whole deal is Jackie, and maybe Marco, since I know she would mess with him, too."

Drew remembered his conversation with Janna about Jackie the other day. "I got that feeling they were close."

"Close? My brother before The One Above All, for a while I thought those two were dating." Rather than give Drew a chance to entertain that mental image, she quickly jogged his attention

"If you want my dogshit observational opinion?" She continued. "I think Janna is a ball-buster specifically to deflect anyone away from actually getting close to her emotionally."

Drew knew that was something Jo did, and he was pretty sure she came to that conclusion first because of that.

Jo then shrugged her shoulders. "That, or she's just a tryhard who wants people to think she's this macabre wannabe witch. You know, like how Marco tries too hard being a bad boy."

That sounded more reasonable. Janna didn't come off as someone who wasn't confident in herself or had a life at home she wanted to hide.

"I guess," Drew said, "But I still don't understand what she meant by being generous."

"What else could she mean?" Jo asked, almost incredulous.

"You tell me, you're the smart one."

"Academically speaking, yes, and my ability to break things down mechanically… but have you seen the social disaster I've been the last couple of weeks? I was about to turn this into a group project."

Drew winced. "Fair enough."

"Me being the hammer… erhm… ugh." She stopped and sighed. "I'm not going to use hammer puns anymore." She stopped and restarted. "Me being the blunt bitch that I am, I suggest you inquire to Janna directly. Not on the phone, face-to-face with her and don't let her misdirect or sly-talk you. Figure out where you two stand, and if she's really implying that she wants to make you into Blue Beet for real."

Obviously Jo was harkening back to her complaints about Blue Beet in the comics being basically a western-written harem protagonist, but Drew was a comics nerd, he had to make a deeper cut. "I hope not, Blue Beet did literally die and had to be brought back to life."

"That was a good storyline, though," Jo pointed out.

"Oh, the best Art Fortunes ever written, hands down. I'm just not too keen on the dying part because the resurrection half of it is probably not possible."

Jo wholeheartedly agreed with that. "Well, just leave keeping you alive to me and Roland. Good night, broseph."

Drew chuckled. "Picking up on Mabel's thing?"

"What? It's cute," Jo snapped back before she left his room and let it swing closed.

Looking at the door with a small smirk, Drew used his telekinesis to secure the locks before he lay back and held his phone above his face with both hands to look at the screen.

Sabrina said:
Hello Andrew! I hope this text message sees you well. I wanted to tell you again that I had a very good time at the dance and I hope you did too!
I was hoping that since we had so much fun, that you would like to hang out again. We could go see a movie, grab some food, or even take a walk down Santa Monica Pier! Or all three! Actually, all three sounds really good, it could be an entire afternoon and it'll be super fun!
I'm sorry I'm rambling, but I'm super nervous, I've never asked a boy out on my own before. And you're like the coolest boy I've ever met. So anyway text me back! Thank you for taking the time to read!

For now, he decided he'd hang out with Sabrina. She was nice, and it wasn't complicated or inscrutable like Heather or Janna.

Drew said:
Hey Sabrina. I've been thinking a lot about the dance, too, and it was nice to hang out with you. I don't know when I'll next be free, but how about on Saturday we take that walk to Santa Monica Pier? I've always wanted to go to the Aquarium over there and walk along the beach.

He hadn't even set his phone down after sending that message, when he got an abrupt reply.

Sabrina said:
OMG YES!!! Okay! I'm going to ask Brittney if Dudley can give us a ride there! I can't wait to see you again!!!

Drew rested his phone on his chest and looked up at the ceiling.

"… Can't wait to see me again?"

If someone had told him a month ago that a Cheerleader would ask him to a dance and then want to go on a date with him after, he'd have called that person an insane idiot and wondered who was playing a prank on him. Even now, he was having a hard time believing it was really happening.

He wasn't, however, going to say it didn't feel amazing.

@@@@@​

Star, Marco, and Dipper walked outside the Diaz home to find Brittney and Dudley standing outside of the former's G-Wagen. Brittney had her arms folded, like she'd been waiting for them to show up, while Dudley was standing straight, with an elegant and dignified air about him.

Marco almost didn't recognize the guy. "Wait, is that Dudley?"

"Good evening, Master Dipper, Master Marco, your Highness," he greeted. "Master Brittney would like to have a word with you."

It was Dudley, Marco was about to ask more about how he came to work for her, but Brittney derailed that with her inquiry. "So, I'm gonna cut to the chase: I think the McCormick kids and Roland are the Beetleborgs."

The three froze where they stood, surprised that she would just come out swinging with that. All three shared quick, wide-eyed looks.

Rather than take their reaction as validation, Brittney took the time to explain her reasoning. "Drew and Roland were in at the dance and Jo wasn't, but the Red Beetleborg showed up to fight that hammer idiot, and only after it was done, did Jo show up for the dance."

The three looked at each other again, then at Brittney.

"I also watched all the videos posted of the fight before that, over at the creek bridge. You guys were all gathered around and waiting for the Blue Beetleborg to come back from wherever he went… and when he got back, he seemed like he got roughed up. Then look who's going around like a freshly bruised mummy unwilling to explain how he got them besides 'I got roughed up by monsters?'"

The three looked at each other a third time, then at Brittney.

"I'm not here because I'm going to snitch or blow up your spot," she continued, "I'm here because I don't want any of my friends getting hurt because they don't know what they're getting into. And also, because I want to know how I can help."

Dipper… did not expect this. "Are you serious?"

"Dead serious," Brittney snapped back. "I'm not the two and three quarters bitches from before the dance. I want to move on to making sure me and mine are safe."

Marco looked at Star, but Star was now looking at Brittney with the biggest smile on her face. "Star, wait–"

Star turned to him. "No, no this is good. This is really good!"

She went over and took Brittney's hands, surprising her. "If we have Brittney on our side, that means we have effectively the power of THREE Princesses backing us up!"

"I don't know…" Marco was concerned about the number of people knowing getting bigger.

"Plus, Brittney has access to big tough dudes with guns and robots who can cover us!"

Brittney frowned. "Hold on, that Hench Co. thing was Daddy letting me use his account. I can't just do that."

Dipper asked. "But if you could do that, would you?"

Brittney nodded. "Pfft, duh! Of course! I'm already writing up a proposal to get them full-time as security for the school. I want to be able to graduate this year and not have classes be interrupted by monsters and supervillains."

Star turned right back to Dipper and Marco, both of whom still had suspicions. "I don't know…" Said the latter, "I mean, what brought this on?"

She sighed at her boyfriend's understandable reluctance, knowing he missed some context. "Marco, before you get weird about it? Brittney and I? We're cool."

She hugged Brittney for emphasis, and despite being unused to the affection–let alone it being from Star Butterfly–Brittney returned the hug.

"Like I said, the beef is squashed," the Queen Bee of the school declared. "And I want to help out because this involves me, I have a lot of money, and I want to invest in not being bothered by those Magnavore creeps."

That was shockingly pragmatic, not as shocking as Marco realizing that the end of conflict between Star and Brittney was actually real. "Okay, there is a lot flying at me tonight and I'm really tired from fighting monsters and not breaking a Karen's neck."

"Oh, me too!" Star pointed out. "I am about to crash."

Dipper, tired himself, nodded. "All right. We'll get you in touch with our representative then, and you can talk to her about how you can help us out. Just as long as you don't do stuff like you did last week and nearly get your face slapped off."

Brittney whipped her hair and sniffed arrogantly. "I would've taken his arm off if Miss Skullnick hadn't jumped in."

"Sure," Dipper and Marco said as one, while Star genuinely believed Brittney absolutely would've done it… somehow.

Satisfied with tonight's meeting, Brittney stepped back. "I'll leave you to get rest, then. I mean it when I say I want to help, and I'm willing to take orders on how to best do it so this nonsense will be over with sooner than later."

Marco had his doubts about such a commitment, but having people who could help honestly felt good. "All right, I believe you, and if Star and Dipper are cool with it then so am I."

"I am so cool with it!" Star said.

Dipper nodded. "Yeah, me too. Welcome to the coalition, I guess."

Brittney noted that none confirmed that the Beetleborgs were who she suspected, but she was fine with that. If they were okay with her helping them, she could wait a bit to find out for sure.

Still, she had one more question to ask before she got in her G-Wagen. "One more thing."

Star rejoined Marco's side. "What's up?"

Brittney pointed between the two of them. "Are you two dating?"

"Nope!" Both of them said in unison. Dipper was impressed at the speed they answered, even as he was reminded of this unfortunate turn of events for himself.

The young woman rolled her eyes. "Ugh, I get it; you don't want people knowing if you're mashing faces, but believe me? Everybody already thinks you are–StarFan13 ships you for Pete's sake. So, cough it up, I won't tell anyone if you are, and tell everyone that you aren't."

Sharing one more look, and with a consenting nod from Marco, Star answered her. "Okay, we've just started dating, and we're kind of too busy to be up front about it."

Marco nodded. "Yeah, let people think what they want to think, and otherwise mind their own business."

Brittney could respect that. "Okay, that's all I wanted to know."

Though, now she was curious about how Jackie Lynn Thomas factored into their whole dynamic. Her gaze lingering on Marco before she turned away, she decided it wasn't her business.

Dudley nodded and tipped his hat to the three teens, before letting Brittney into her car and going to the driver's seat. The G-Wagen then pulled a U-turn and drove off down the road to its destination in Upper Echo Creek.

"I'm… not used to Brittney talking directly to me and not throwing an insult in there somewhere," Marco admitted.

"If you want, you can imagine she was insulting you," Star suggested.

Marco laughed. "No, no… I'm going to roll with this one. Besides, after dealing with those cops? It's nice to know that there are people on our side who aren't just our friends and family."

Star smiled. "Yeah, it is."

"So, uh…" Dipper began, drawing their attention, as he rubbed the back of his neck. "… Before I leave, can I just say something, myself?"

"Sure, what's up?" Marco asked.

"You're not going to veto Brittney joining up, are you?" Star asked.

"No, not that… this is a personal thing, and I think I should get it off my chest and out of the way before we start getting into drama on top of fighting." Dipper said. "Back when we first met, I was… kinda into you?"

Star froze where she stood, and she looked from Dipper and back at Marco–whom Dipper was speaking to.

Oh no, he chooses now to just drop it on him? She thought in alarm.

Marco stared at Dipper, blinking slowly. "… Wh… huh?"

"And… I'm not saying this as a confession thing, or some vain hope that you'll be into me, too…" He stopped himself from trying to ramble on. "I'm just putting it out there so we're all on the same page and it doesn't get weird."

Marco processed that for a second. "… Ohh… You liked the Princess Marco look, right?"

Dipper nodded. "Well, yeah." Before Marco could reassure Dipper that he wasn't the first guy to be tripped up by his Princess form, he continued. "But I also liked what I saw after you changed back."

"Yeah, well you're not the–" Mouth open and hand raised for the aforementioned reassurance, Marco paused, and then his face colored slightly. "… Oh."

"Sorry, for springing this on you, man. I just wanted to get it out of the way, like I said…"

Marco held up his hands, his reassurance now stronger than ever. "What? Don't be sorry! I'm just surprised, I never thought a guy would just come out and say he liked me liked me."

Honestly it was both validating and relieving, especially after finding out that Trip had been into his feminine persona. Funny as that was. People with taste besides Star thought he was hot, and he could live with that. Enjoy it even.

Dipper was relieved that it didn't get weird, and he hoped it wouldn't get weird later. Between fighting the Magnavores and working with Star and the Magic Instruction Book, he had a feeling he'd be close to Star and Marco going forward a lot more.

"Anyway, I'm going to get home. You guys take care, all right? Don't stay up too late," he said.

"I wasn't kidding about wanting to crash," Marco promised. "Later, Dipper."

Star was likewise happy that nothing melted down or even came close to a runaway reaction. "I'll make sure Marco gets his beauty sleep! As long as you get yours, Dipper!"

Waving, Dipper headed up the street towards Shermie's home, and both Star and Marco turned towards their house.

"Dipper has a crush on me," Marco said.

"Yep," Star said.

He looked at her. "Did you know?"

"I'm pretty sure everyone else knows."

Marco stopped at the door. "How did I not notice?"

"A general combination of you being extremely focused on first Jackie Lynn Thomas and then me, combined with all the schooling, teaching, and fighting you do on top of being already awesome."

Marco laughed a moment after that. "And here I thought I was the PHD."

Star then placed her hands on his shoulders. "But Marco, the important thing is… how do you feel about this?"

How considerate of her to ask him. "I mean… Dipper's a tall handsome guy, but I have a girlfriend. That girlfriend is you."

Marco stopped. "Wait, are you looking at this like a yao–"

"Whoa! No! Nonononono–!" Star insisted. "Marco, I just don't want there to be drama. If Dipper likes you, he likes you! If you like Dipper, you like Dipper!"

Marco tried to get a word in edgewise, but then Star hit him with a curveball he didn't see coming. "Same with Jackie Lynn Thomas! If you like her, you like her! I won't mind because Dipper and Jackie are people I like, too! And I like seeing all the people I like hanging out and being happy with people I like! Which is you, who I like, a bunch!"

Immediately, Marco recalled the interaction from the night before, after Misao was rescued and everyone was discussing their shipping being wrecked on the awful rocks of reality. Specifically, he zeroed in on what Jackie had said that had been at the back of his mind since.

"… OT3?"

He had just said he was exhausted, but the implications of what he just learned were going to keep him up for at least half the night, now.

At least if he didn't confirm it. "… Star, I'm going to ask you this very slowly, and you are going to answer me slowly, so you have as much time to think about your answer as I do."

Star nodded, perceptibly slow. "Okay," she said, matching his verbal cadence.

He reached up and placed his hands on her shoulders. "Are you saying, in all confidence, that it's okay if I want to date Jackie Lynn Thomas and/or Dipper, even while I'm dating you. Like… an open relationship or polyamory thing?"

Star answered, with powerful slowness. "I do not know what polyamory means, but I do know that I am okay with you dating Jackie Lynn Thomas and Dipper, and me… because I would like to date Jackie Lynn Thomas and Dipper and you, too."

Suddenly Marco looked around, like he was scanning for hidden enemies or the paparazzi about to ambush.

"What's wrong?" Star asked, with the same slowness.

"You don't have to do that anymore," Marco assured her. "I'm just making sure Janna's not hiding somewhere and this is a bit."

"It's not a bit, I swear," Star said. "I am down for the OT3.. or OT4, I mean… it's up to you what you want to do. Jackie and Mabel both say that communication and being on the same page is important in this kind of thing."

Marco thought he'd be able to sleep on this, but now he knew he definitely was not going to. "Are… are you sure?"

Star pulled Marco in and hugged him. "Of course I'm sure, Marco. The bad guys are getting stronger, there are other people messing with us, and all I want is for my friends to be happy. All my friends, and the guy I am totally in love with."

As Star continued, Marco slowly brought his arms up and returned the hug.

"If we're all fighting for each other as much as we are alongside each other, then nobody can beat us. Ever."

@@@@@​

Beneath a highway bridge crossing the Los Angeles river, just off a bike path that ran underneath it, TC sat on the edge of the river, beside the torn apart remains of a human body. In his right hand, he held a strip of skin and connected flesh, blood dripping from it, while in his free hand he held his phone, watching video of the battle at Britta's Tacos. He frowned when he happened to catch sight of himself incidentally fleeing during the fight captured by a news camera.

"Guess I'm not going back to Echo Creek anymore," he mused aloud. "For the best, Brittney didn't give off the vibe I was hoping for. Those Vanderhoff boys fell off the face of the Earth, too, so… no safe harbor."

He took a big bite out of the strip of flesh. "Maybe there's somewhere in the Palisades I can chill. I can't be sneaking around like this anymore. I am too rich for this shit."

CLACK

Alarmed, TC turned and looked with wide eyes down the edge of the river. Gabe stood there, with his shirasaya held in front of him, driven so hard into the concrete shore that it was cracked and split beneath it. In the dark, he couldn't see his face, but the way his face gripped the shaft of the shirasaya in his right hand, while his left hand pulled the hilt of his sword out of the lacquered wooden sheath.

"Too rich?" Gabe greeted him calmly as he pulled the sword. "Ain't nobody too rich for an ass-beating, fuck nigga."

TC tossed aside his meal and stood up, blood dripping from his hand as he closed his phone screen and put it away. "How the fuck did you find me?"

"I'm more embarrassed that I didn't find you sooner," Gabe admitted.

Drawing his sword fully, he held it out at his side as he walked towards TC, using the sheath like a walking stick. "You really out here killing people in broad daylight, and tryna hide out in Echo Creek. Not only is you sloppy, you're dumb, too."

TC narrowed his eyes, practically bristling at the remark. "Can't fault a nigga for being hungry."

"You ain't allowed to say that shit," Gabe shot back. "Now turn the fuck up or get cut the fuck up–I don't mind either way."

Baring his teeth, TC lowered his posture as his violet eyes took on an unearthly glow. "Oh, my pass is revoked, too? Guess I'm switchin' to the hard R, then. I don't need to be smart or clean, Goblin. I got luck on my side, and I know I'm stronger than you."

Gabe stopped, and his neutral expression finally shifted into an unamused scowl. "Nah, you ain't getting away this time."

With that he shot towards TC at high speed, pulling back his sword to swing down, as the hoodie-wearing young man's lips split into a blood-thirsty grin, and he leaped at him in turn.

= - = 8-EX = - =​

Legends: A Story of Lies Volume 9 will be here in the Spring... I hope.

 

[The Ero-Sennin]

Volume 9 is done, and now I'm going to start posting it! Things take surprising turns both past and present in Echo Creek!

= - = 9-1 = - =​

|Power in Pink|​

When Teodoro woke, the mid-morning sun was already slanting in through the high windows. The last thing he remembered was the meal he'd prepared in Dr. Hillhurst's kitchen the night before—and collapsing onto a bed in one of the house's guest rooms, full to the point of near-bursting.

He slipped from the blankets, set his feet on the hardwood floor, and looked out the window.

It was already so late. He normally did not wake so late, even on the road, and never at home.

A pain ached in him.

Home.

Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath to force it down, and rose to dress.

Descending the stairs into the grand, over-decorated foyer and walking into the sitting room moments later, he took in the details he hadn't noticed before: the antique organ dominating the far wall, the suit of medieval armor, and a dozen paintings of stormy landscapes and stern-faced men—making ridiculous faces.

He did a double take at those before his attention was drawn to the woman tending to a bruised and bloodied Dr. Hillhurst on the same couch where the "Doctor" had treated him.

The woman—with dark hair fading to blonde at the tips, and dressed in a simple white dress under a brown jacket—turned to him when she heard his arrival.

Her warm, hazel-colored eyes lit up. "Well, howdy. You must be the young man Al warned me about!"

She rose and offered her hand for a shake. "Jane. Jane Monroe. Pleasure's mine."

"What happened to him?" Teodoro asked, voice sharp even as he took her hand and shook it—in a fashion both measured, polite.

She hooked her other thumb over her shoulder at Dr. Hillhurst. "Al here got himself in a scrape down in town."

Teodoro's eyes flicked past her, narrow with concern. "Is he all right?"

"Oh, he'll be his ornery self again by supper. Don't you worry none," she assured. "How are you, darlin'? You were half-dead from exposure when he found you, wren't ya?"

"I was," Teodoro replied, flatly.

Jane blinked. "… You're blunt as a kick to the teeth, huh?"

"There's no point in mincing words."

She laughed loud and sudden, a surprised bark that nearly made him jump. "Oh, you two are gonna get along like a house on fire."

Teodoro wondered her meaning as Dr. Hillhurst, stirred by her laugh, groaned awake.

"Oh, Ted, you're awake. Ready to get that ammo made…?" He greeted groggily.

"Ready," Teodoro answered, clean and sharp.

"Excellent. In spite of various inconveniences, your order is in. Jane here was even kind enough to bring the first shipment—.45 and 7.63x25, as we discussed."

Jane nodded. "And there's more coming. By the time I'm back from town, ol' Backintosh'll have the next batch ready. I'll have it back here before sundown."

Dr. Hillhurst sat up slightly, wincing. "And I'll have the rounds requested ready by morning. Lucky for us, the bastards only went after my face—my hands are still good for a night of fine work."

Jane smirked. "That's what you tell all the ladies down at the saloon, huh?"

Teodoro flushed—his cheeks blooming a startled pink. That a woman would speak like that left him momentarily speechless.

"Oh, it's true," Dr. Hillhurst replied without missing a beat. "Ask any of the ladies. My needlework is impeccable—there's not a stitch I can't mend."

Trying to shake off his fluster, Teodoro pressed forward. "Who did this to you?"

"Remember those… troublesome dealings?"

He nodded once. "Tell me who. I'll handle them."

Jane raised an eyebrow. "Eager, aren't you?"

"I made a deal with him," Teodoro replied. "He was hurt upholding his end, and I will not let that rest on me."

"Trust me, son, Al would've taken that beating whether or not he was helping you," Jane said. "But I like your integrity."

"Thank you for the compliment," Teodoro said evenly, "but I still want to know who did this."

Jane glanced over at Dr. Hillhurst. "Zealous kid, huh?"

"In him burns a righteous flame," Dr. Hillhurst said, "and it will blaze regardless of any attempt to dissuade him. Regard him as a man, not a child, Jane."

Jane turned back to Teodoro. Looking at his face—so young, so fresh—but none of that youth reached his eyes.

Something about that hollow stare made her want to hug him tightly, an unfamiliar maternal urge that caught her off-guard and made her hesitate uncomfortably.

Dr. Hillhurst shifted, settling further back into the cushions. "I'll tell you what, my boy. Sooner or later, those contentious bastards will come to my doorstep again. When they do—they're yours."

Teodoro shook his head. "No. They're God's."

Jane was at a loss. The ease, the lack of hesitation to speak of such things—it chilled her.

"Just… don't make a habit of killing people on your land," she said quietly. "That'll only invite more trouble."

"There's only one way to deal with monsters," Teodoro said. "Thoroughly."

Jane opened her mouth to push back—but stopped. Instead, she sighed and walked to the door, snatching a weathered brown fedora from the rack.

"I'll leave the doctor to you. I've got my own troublesome dealings to tend to."

She exited briskly, the door slamming shut behind her.

Dr. Hillhurst groaned as he sat up straighter. "Pardon her, Teodoro. Jane does quite a bit of charitable work for the community, and bloodshed appalls her."

Teodoro looked toward the door, then back to him. "That's her concern."

Shaking his head, Dr. Hillhurst pushed himself to his feet. "Well, I'm rested enough, my vision's no longer doubled, and my bones are intact. Come on, lad. Let's talk while I show you the workshop."

Outside, Jane approached a pale brown horse tied to a trellis post, the saddle a dusty blend of pink and tan. She climbed into the stirrups.

"Come on, Sheila," she said gently, patting the horse's side. "Duty calls."

Moving up the dirt path, Jane guided her horse past the rows of Dr. Hillhurst's sprawling trellises until they gave way to the tall wild grasses beyond the vineyard.

As she scanned the open fields ahead of her, she slowed.

Her gaze was drawn toward a rise in the ground off to the right, eyes narrowing as she caught something—movement? A glint?

She frowned.

After moments of scrutiny, she looked away, ahead.

"… Get along now," she murmured to Sheila, giving her a light nudge.

She spared one final glance behind her right as the horse walked on, then looked down at the ring on her right hand index finger: a pink band with a diamond-studded silver "S." It shimmered in the light as she stared at it.

A few moments after horse and rider fell out of sight, a figure slowly rose from the tall grass she'd eyed. Hutchinson, his face purple with bruises and jaw held shut and swathed in gauze, looked back the way Jane rode, then down at Dr. Hillhurst's home.

"All right," he snarled through clenched teeth.

He hoisted a sawed-off Remington Model 1897 into both hands as one by one, six more men rose beside him—guns drawn, holsters unlatched, shotguns at the ready.

"We're putting an end to this once and for all."

@@@@@​

Taking his cane from beside the door, Dr. Hillhurst headed out and motioned for Teodoro to follow. "Come along—I'll show you the shed."

Teodoro followed closely behind, like a duckling trailing its mother. Dr. Hillhurst led him around the side of the house to a sizable outbuilding tucked behind the main house. He opened the door to reveal a well-equipped gunsmith's workshop.

Inside, rows of firearms lined the walls: shotguns, lever-action rifles, and revolvers in varying states of construction and repair. The smithing table was covered in tools and small parts, and beside it sat two heavy buckets—both filled with freshly acquired brass casings.

Teodoro's eyes widened. "You have so many…"

"I do make weapons for my neighbors," Dr. Hillhurst said, stepping inside. "Because without the means to defend it, liberty is just a privilege waiting to be taken."

Teodoro nodded. "You need more than having guns for that, though."

Dr. Hillhurst gave a tired smile. "Far more."

He settled into a swiveling chair, then turned to face the boy with one of the .45 casings in hand. "But let's not talk about my guns. Let's talk about yours."

Teodoro met his gaze.

"There's something I've been meaning to ask, friend. What's your association with Avalon Armeros?"

"I don't know them personally," Teodoro replied without hesitation. "But my father bought my weapons from them."

"The Mauser and the Colt?"

He nodded. "Yes."

"Can you tell me more? About your family?"

Teodoro paused, and stood still for a moment. Dr. Hillhurst watched as his empty expression still managed to darken with what was no doubt a storm of recent memories raging behind his all-but unblinking eyes.

What felt like an eternity, Teodoro took a long, deep breath. In—and out.

"We hunt monsters," he answered plainly. "We have since we arrived in Mexico two hundred years ago—and before that, in Spain. We have never known peace, and never will, not as long as monsters draw breath."

He said it so mechanically, like he'd been told it a thousand times.

From someone he listened to unconditionally.

Dr. Hillhurst felt a pang of guilt, as he realized he may have set off something in the man with his question. Still, he pressed on.

"Real monsters, not men acting like them."

"There is little difference," Teodoro said darkly. "But I've seen both. Werewolves. Vampires. Demons. The dead who won't stay dead…"

He drew the revolver from his right holster, flipped it in his hand and held it out to Dr. Hillhurst, grip-first.

The gesture surprised the "Doctor", but he took the gun carefully and examined it.

"The bullets we use aren't just silver. They poison. They strip power from the unnatural—weakening them until they're no more dangerous than a man. Then they die."

Dr. Hillhurst turned to the Mauser holstered on the boy's left side. "And the Mauser?"

"I use that when I don't want to waste silver," Teodoro replied.

"Logical." Dr. Hillhurst smirked. "How handy are you with steel?"

"I rarely miss with my pistols," Teodoro admitted. "But they're not my strength."

"No?"

"My strength is the rifle. And the saber. I've hidden them both… in case you couldn't be trusted."

"Smart," Dr. Hillhurst said, a little impressed.

Teodoro paused. Then, almost imperceptibly, he smiled.

"… But I think I can trust you."

"Oh?" Dr. Hillhurst raised an eyebrow. "You've seemed a touch wary, until now."

"I collapsed on your doorstep and awoke with water, shade, and a cool rag on my forehead," Teodoro said. "You could've stripped me of everything I had and left me to die—but you didn't. You saw my silver, my guns… and still never once considered betraying me."

Dr. Hillhurst let out a low chuckle as he handed the revolver back. "Well. Within five minutes of meeting you, I understood two things: first, monsters exist—and you kill them. Second, if I'd tried to rob you, even while you were half-dead… you'd have still found a way to kill me first."

The smirk on Teodoro's face widened ever so slightly as he holstered his weapon.

"Smart."

Dr. Hillhurst laughed lightly. "Let's get to work on that order of yours. I'll need to melt down the silver first."

"I can do it," Teodoro offered. "My father taught me how."

That caught the doctor's attention. "A man of many trades. All right then—the forge is outside. Think you can manage it?"

Teodoro stood. "It shouldn't be difficult."

He only took two steps past the door before something caught his attention. His sharp eyes tracked movement up the vineyard path—and he spotted Hutchinson and his men just coming into view before the corner of the house broke line of sight.

He stepped back inside quickly.

Dr. Hillhurst turned, surprised at his sudden return. "Something wrong?"

"There are armed men approaching the house," Teodoro said flatly. "They didn't see me."

The doctor's face fell into a grim line. "How many?"

"Seven."

"Were any of them bandaged around the head?"

"Yes. The one leading them."

"Damn it, Hutchinson… you've been warned enough."

Without further discussion, Dr. Hillhurst rose and moved to the wall of finished firearms. He reached for a lever-action shotgun, thought better of it, and swapped it for a pump-action model. He tossed another to Teodoro, along with a box of shells.

"Here you go, lad. Looks like we've got some of those troublesome dealings to settle."

With quick, precise movements, Teodoro chambered a round, flipped the shotgun over, and loaded six more into the magazine tube. His hands were smooth, automatic. Dr. Hillhurst had only finished loading his second shell when Teodoro was finished.

"Do we warn them?" he asked, voice calm.

"They're on my property with guns drawn," Dr. Hillhurst replied, loading his third shell. "So, no."

Teodoro glanced out the window.

"Do we show mercy?"

Dr. Hillhurst didn't even look up. "They're on my property with guns drawn."

He racked the pump, chambering a shell.

"So, no."

Teodoro nodded sharply, and both he and Dr. Hillhurst hurried from the shed toward the kitchen entrance of the house. By the time they reached the living room—ducking behind the thick stone-and-timber walls near the front window—they could already hear the crunch of boots and rattle of metal approaching through the front yard.

Then came the blast.

A single shotgun roar echoed through the valley, scattering birds from the trees. Hutchinson lowered the weapon, teeth clenched and gun smoking as his posse spread out from behind him to his flanks.

"HILLHURST, YOU CHARLATAN! SHOW YOURSELF! I WANT MY GUN BACK, YOU DAMN SNAKE!"

Behind the window, Teodoro raised an eyebrow. "What gun?"

Dr. Hillhurst casually drew the polished M1899 from inside his coat and handed it over. Teodoro turned it over in his hands and gave a subtle nod.

"I see why he's angry."

The silence from the house seemed to goad Hutchinson further. He raised his shotgun again, voice cracking from rage.

"FINE THEN!"

Pointing his barrel down the right side of the house, he barked orders. "Emmett, Sean, Kelsey—you circle to the back!"

Then, gesturing to the other side, he barked: "Horace, Max, Ivan—you're with me! We're going in loud!"

But before his men could take a step, a sharp crack split the air like lightning.

Hutchinson screamed in pain, stumbling forward and dropping his shotgun. Clutching his rear like it was aflame, he rolled onto his side, gasping and whimpering.

Behind them, SheHaw recalled and coiled her whip with ease.

"Howdy, fellas," she said coolly. "I don't seem to recall any of y'all being deputized, or any warrants issued. So what brings you to a man's home with steel drawn?"

Teodoro stared out the window, eyes narrowing at the pink-clad woman standing tall with a coiled whip in hand.

"…Who is that?"

Dr. Hillhurst let out a deep, audible sigh.

"Sweet relief, my good man."

Outside, the armed men turned their weapons toward SheHaw as Hutchinson staggered upright, fury burning through his bruised jaw.

"This ain't none of your concern, woman!"

"Oh, it's plenty my concern," SheHaw called back, whip in one hand, stance defiant. "Now come on, boys—leave the doctor be. No reason for this to get messy."

Already sore and losing face, Hutchinson snapped, his voice ragged. "That fraud's no doctor! And the fact you call him one says plenty!"

He leveled his gun at her. "HILLHURST! COME OUT HERE OR WE'LL KILL YOUR WOMAN TOO!"

Inside, both SheHaw and Dr. Hillhurst grimaced at the very with disgust.

"I'd rather be shot dead than be called that man's woman!" SheHaw fired back without missing a beat.

Dr. Hillhurst was of a similar thought. "I'd rather be shot dead than be any woman's man…"

Hutchinson barked an order. "Ivan—grab her before she tries anything!"

Ivan, the largest of the crew—a bald, barrel-chested brute with a braided beard—stomped forward, fists twitching.

One of the younger posse members, Emmett, shifted uneasily.

"Uh, Hutchinson? Ain't SheHaw basically the sheriff?" He asked.

"She ain't no sheriff! She's a pink flamingo who thinks she's handy with a whip!" Hutchinson snapped.

As Ivan loomed over her, SheHaw looked up with a calm warning in her eyes. "Big fella, I wouldn't go puttin' hands on a lady, now."

Emmett took a step forward, more panicked. "Ivan, wait—don't antagonize her, she's—"

Ivan sneered. "In old country, we remind women of place with hand."

Then he struck her.

The blow echoed like a hammer on steel. SheHaw's head turned slightly, but her stance held. She didn't fall. She didn't flinch.

Inside the house, both Dr. Hillhurst and Teodoro instinctively winced.

Ivan's smirk evaporated. His hand trembled. He recoiled, grabbing his wrist with wide eyes—his bones buzzing with pain.

It felt like he'd slapped a statue of bronze coated in velvet. Something was very, very wrong.

His eyes widened when she glanced sideways at him, their gazes locking. She heaved a sigh.
"… Welp."

SheHaw pivoted and uppercut Ivan with a rising blow so fast and precise it was as if time skipped a beat. The brute's feet left the ground. He tumbled end-over-end through the air, over the heads of Hutchinson and the posse, and landed flat on his back with a solid thud—right at the foot of Dr. Hillhurst's front porch.

Inside, Teodoro, who had already leveled his shotgun, eased off.

"Some relief."

Dr. Hillhurst smirked, pleased.

"For us, not them."

Outside, the posse froze in horror at Ivan's limp body.

The shock didn't last, as SheHaw exploded forward.

She slammed her fist into the jaw of the man beside Sean—Kelsey—and he collapsed like a sack of bricks. Horace, trying to raise his pistol, got it wrenched downward by SheHaw's grip, just in time to catch a spinning backhand across his cheek.

Emmett blinked at the sight, whispered a "Nope," and broke into a full sprint—booking it back up the hill.

Hutchinson and his last two men—Sean and Max—raised their weapons just in time to catch the full fury of SheHaw's twin whips. With a single spiraling spin, she lashed both braided cords outward. The crack of the strikes hit like gunshots, and both men dropped.

That left Hutchinson.

"YOU DAMN MONSTER WOMAN!" he roared, letting off a panicked blast from his shotgun.

She charged straight through it, buckshot splashing off her body like raindrops.

Before he could rack the next round, she seized him by the neck, lifted him clean off the ground, and planted him spine-first into the dirt.

Hutchinson, stunned, lay frozen on the ground, staring at the sky. The dust hadn't even settled when SheHaw stepped on and ground the heel of her boot into the side of his face.

"From flamingo to 'monster,'" she said coolly, leaning closer. "Why don't you show a little more respect to the woman who just saved your life, Abner?"

With a grunt of pain, Hutchinson spat, "Saved…? You saved his…!"

Dr. Hillhurst, shotgun against his shoulder, strolled out with Teodoro behind him.
"Oh no, Mr. Hutchinson. Rest assured—if you stepped into my home, you and your boys would be leaving very dead."

He glanced to the edge of the road, watching Emmett flee. "Although… it seems you did miss one."

SheHaw turned, catching sight of the retreating man. From her belt, she drew a dark pink hair comb with a handle curved into the shape of a boomerang.

"Just a sec," she said.

She hurled the comb. Spinning, it arced cleanly through the air, a glittering blur, towards the back of Emmet's head—

THWACK!

He dropped like a sack of potatoes.

The comb spun back, and SheHaw caught it midair without missing a beat.

"Ted, go collect the young man," Dr. Hillhurst said as he accepted a length of rope from SheHaw, "so we can get these gentlemen tied up and carted back to town."

"Is that a good idea?" Teodoro asked, walking toward the unconscious Emmett.

"If I had my way," the doctor called after him, "they'd all be dead and cooling somewhere on my property. But alas, I'm burdened by decency."

SheHaw shot him a look. "I appreciate you shouldering it."

Together, the trio moved methodically, hoisting each man to his feet. One by one, they blindfolded the dazed attackers, bound their wrists, and tied the ends of their lead to the back of Sheila's saddle.

"I'm taking these boys into town," SheHaw said, climbing onto her horse. "They'll cool their heads in a cell."

Dr. Hillhurst leaned on his cane. "You truly are a gem, SheHaw."

"You two gonna be all right?"

"We'll manage," he replied.

Teodoro said nothing, but his eyes lingered on the bound men—watchful, weighing.

"Just holler if you need me," she added as she adjusted her reins. "I'll hear it from downtown."

With that, she rode off, her unusual chain of prisoners trailing behind. Both men stood silent as she descended the hill.

"She's naïve," Teodoro finally said.

Dr. Hillhurst sighed. "She's not naïve, she's made a deliberate vow to never take a life."

"…Why?" Teodoro asked, genuinely puzzled.

The doctor smiled faintly. "Well, for one, as long as she's wearing that ridiculous getup, twelve-gauge buckshot at point-blank may as well be birdshot from five hundred yards."

The young man scowled at SheHaw's retreating form, then turned to Dr. Hillhurst. "Who do those men work for?"

"Hm?" Dr. Hillhurst gave a short breath. There was no use being coy. "Emily Blakesfield-Bonner. Los Angeles' rising oil tycoon. You've likely seen her derricks scattered across the countryside on your way here—most of them are hers. The oil's made her family obscenely rich, even more than they already were."

Teodoro didn't seem surprised that one of the region's most powerful figures was a woman. "Why are you and she at odds?"

"Because she's a vulture," Dr. Hillhurst answered bluntly. "Echo Creek used to be a proper town—before she tore it down and turned it into an oil field."

He turned and headed toward the house. "And if you don't give her what she wants, she sends men like Hutchinson to take it. From your cold, dead hands if necessary."

A dark thought flickered in Dr. Hillhurst's expression, a ghost of a memory. A bitter conversation in a shotgun shack on the edge of the world.

He tightened his jaw for a moment, and shook his head.

"It is, to the horror of some, the human condition."

Once SheHaw was out of sight, Teodoro followed. "I disagree."

"Oh?" Dr. Hillhurst looked back over his shoulder.

"Evil people are rare, but they cast long shadows.," Teodoro said. "They die, and their evil dies with them."

Dr. Hillhurst grimaced as he stepped up to the porch. "If it were so simple, I'd take an axe to that entire family tree myself."

He paused, turned, and regarded the younger man. "But it takes more than killing to uproot what truly poisons a place."

Teodoro frowned. "So what would it take?"

Dr. Hillhurst gave a tired, sardonic smile. "For me to have as much money as Ms. Blakesfield-Bonner, honestly."

Teodoro stared at him, not quite sure if he was joking.

@@@@@​

A booming crack shattered the quiet of Echo Creek, turning heads and sending horses skittering in panic. But it came from neither gunshot nor SheHaw's whip. Just down the street from the saloon and post office, one of Emily Blakesfield-Bonner's newest oil derricks had collapsed in spectacular fashion.

The noise drew a sizable crowd of locals—who fell silent and parted like wheat before a scythe when she stepped onto the scene herself.

Striding past them in a long burgundy skirt and ivory gloves, Emily surveyed the splintered wreckage of the drill and its surrounding derrick with no small annoyance.

At the center of the commotion stood the befuddled foreman, scratching his blonde head with four fingers while clutching his fedora between thumb and index like a child caught in a storm. He didn't even notice her approach until she spoke.

"Mr. Armberg, what in Heaven's name happened?!"

He flinched and turned. "Ms. Bonner! It's… it's bad. We hit something. About twenty feet down. Drill bit overheated and snapped clean off."

"Twenty—" she began, stopping herself mid-word. A flash of irritation crossed her porcelain features before she recomposed. "Then dig it up."

"Yes ma'am. We'll have it cleared by morning."

Before she could follow up, Mr. Armberg stared over her shoulder. "Uh… ma'am? Is that Hutchinson?"

Emily turned.

Sure enough, down the main street rode SheHaw, tall in the saddle, trailing a string of beaten and bound men behind her like a pink-clad reaper. The crowd stirred, whispering as the town's most infamous vigilante led local men—known for keeping the law—straight to jail. Chief among them: an unconscious Hutchinson, slung over her horse like a sack of meal.

Emily gathered the front of her skirt in her hands as she turned sharply and stormed over.

"SheHaw! What is the meaning of this?!"

The vigilante tipped her hat with the air of someone long used to drama. "Afternoon, Ms. Bonner. Just the lady I hoped to see. You'll never guess where I found your boys."

Emily's eyes narrowed at the state they were in. "Wherever they were, I assure you, it was not at my behest."

"Save your breath. An investigation'll make that clear." SheHaw gestured behind her. "What's clear already is these men came armed onto another man's land, and I stopped a massacre."

From the chain of prisoners, Emmett squawked. "W-we weren't gonna shoot anybody! It was Hutchinson's idea to go over and talk! He just wanted his gun back from Hillhurst!"

"Hillhurst?" Emily repeated, stunned.

Emmett's desperation poured out like a leak. "Please, Ms. Bonner! I can't go to jail! You know my Pa—he'd never forgive me!"

Emily's surprise turned to a look of calculation, then realization.

Her expression sharpened, as she spoke with a voice frigid and final to the young. "Shut up, I had no part in your foolishness, I will not absolve you of it."

She turned to SheHaw. "I have warned them to avoid that man plenty enough."

SheHaw huffed. "Without your consent."

Emily glanced once at Hutchinson's limp form, and leveled that cold gaze onto SheHaw.

"As you just said yourself, SheHaw: save your words. I await your investigation, and I will expect restitution for this attempt to tarnish my name."

Their gazes locked—Emily's iron to SheHaw's flame. The moment lingered, silent and razor-edged.

Finally, the vigilante gave a low "Giddyup, Sheila," and rode off leading her procession.

As she passed, Emmett cried out one last time, pale with terror. "Please don't tell my Pa…!"

Emily didn't answer. She turned back to Armberg and her crew. They'd wisely kept their eyes down.

None of them dared meet her gaze.

"Utter a word of what just occurred," Emily said, her voice like dry ice, "and you won't have to worry about this broken drill—because it won't be your problem to solve."

With that, she turned sharply and stormed toward the center of town, the crowd of onlookers quickly dispersing from her path to escape her cold, tightly coiled fury radiating from her with each step.

In the opposite direction, as SheHaw neared the jail, the man draped over her horse groaned and shifted.

"…Damn monster… can't leave well enough alone…"

"I could say the same for you," SheHaw replied flatly, not even turning to look at him. "Maybe a night in the can'll finally steer you off this path to destruction."

Hutchinson sneered, his voice thick with exhaustion. "You think there's a judge in this town who gives a damn we tried to string up that Skagway charlatan? We won't even see one—we'll be out before sundown."

SheHaw's lips thinned. "And if you go back there, I won't save you next time."

"You saved him."

She shook her head. "That man's more dangerous than you realize. If you keep poking him, he's going to poke back—harder. And if this keeps going back and forth there'll be nothing left but scorched earth and blood-soaked dirt."

"Then maybe you should go wrap your whip around Hillhurst's neck and yank until it snaps."

"That's nonsense," SheHaw said coldly. "Killing him would just make it easier for you to do whatever you want."

"To who?" Hutchinson snarled, raising his head just enough to look back. "A bunch of dirt farmers? Mexicans? Poor folks pretending it's still 1870?"

Even bruised and broken, he sneered. "It's time you started thinking about progress, about what's good for civilized folks—rational people—trying to bring order to this damn world."

SheHaw slowed her horse and looked out across what was once Echo Creek. A forest of oil derricks—jagged wood and steel skeletons—rising from the earth where once a town stood, spread across the land like rot.

Her hand gripped the reins tightly.

"… Is this what you call progress?"

= - = 9-1 = - =​

Power comes in many forms.

 

[The Ero-Sennin]

Hey folks, surprise. I was a little late in uploading this. I had planned for doing this on Friday, but I ran into a little bit of a snag while editing it. After a BUNCH of revisions, literal lost sleep, and a painful lesson learned, we're here and we're dropping this bad boy NAO.

= - = 9-2 = - =

|Tee'd Off|​

The sound of a freight train rumbling down the tracks stirred Gabe awake. He was lying on the edge of the LA River, across from a large railway yard, as the first pre-dawn glow of the morning began to manifest in the east.

Sitting up, he looked at himself: his suburban-chic clothes were torn and slashed, soaked in blood, and the sword he held in his right hand with a vice-like grip was broken just above the hilt.

With a disappointed expression, Gabe shook his head.

"I need better swords." Tossing away the broken blade, Gabe got up, but stumbled when pain radiated from his left arm, chest, and stomach.

Looking down as he pulled up his shredded shirt, he found five deep gashes starting from the very top of the left side of his chest down to his left hip. While the middle three cuts were somewhat deep and still oozing, the two on the outer edges were shallower and closing up.

He felt a throbbing and looked at his arm—what appeared to be a tree branch was driven through his upper arm.

Despite his injuries, he was more surprised than anything. "Damn, he respected the fade."

Grabbing one end of the branch, he ripped it out of his arm with barely a flinch, and tossed it carelessly into the river.

The sun was starting to come up, and he was several miles downriver from where he started. He needed to get back.

"… He better not have found my car," he complained as he began walking back up the river, leaving behind the grotesque smear of blood on the concrete shore he'd woken up in.

@@@@@​

With a clean swish and a sharp crack, a golf ball shot into the air above the westside of Echo Creek's country club. It curved slightly in the low mid-morning breeze before bouncing on the fairway just shy of the green.

Brittney Wong's jaw clenched. She glared at the ball.

Try as she might, she could not will it further through pure bad bitch alone.

"That should've made the green," she muttered, lowering her club.

Applause broke out behind her—Sabrina, Megan, and Chantal cheering like she just won the Masters. Dudley hefted her bag over one shoulder and gave a slow, straight-faced nod.

To her right, a mid-20s blonde-haired woman in a white shirt, brown cargo shorts, and golf cleats looked out at where the ball landed before turning to Brittney.

"Why did you hire me again? That's literally 210 yards." She pointed out. "You're already really good for your age."

Brittney finally lowered her club, and handed it to Dudley. "I hired you because I can be better. Good is not enough."

The instructor's left eyebrow quirked. "… That's a healthy mindset."

She pulled a ball from her pocket and began juggling it between her club, then her foot, like a soccer trick as she spoke.

"You're really good, like almost pro-level, and we've only been doing this literally for just a few months. If you want to be great, though?"

She launched the ball with a one-handed swing before it could touch the ground.

Like a laser-guided missile, it curved around and dropped straight into the hole with a tidy plink, not touching the green once.

Dudley's brows lifted sharply.

The other girls gawked at the brilliant shot in silence.

Megan murmured softly, impressed, "Daaaaaang."

She turned back to her student, whose mouth hung agape. "It's going to take time. Keep swinging, girl."

Twirling her club, she walked towards her golf cart. "Okay, let's work on your putting… which I know needs work!"

Brittney narrowed her eyes, but climbed into her golf cart without another word. Her friends piled in behind her, still buzzing. Dudley took the wheel.

"Lead the way, Master Lori," Dudley called to the golf instructor, who slid into her own golf cart and puttered ahead.

As the two carts got underway, Chantal leaned forward over Brittney's shoulder. "She's right though, girl. You're being way too hard on yourself."

Brittney sighed irritably. "Demanding more of myself isn't wrong."

Megan gently interjected. "Yeah, but just like asking too much of others, you can ask for too much of you."

Chantal nodded sagely. "That's how you burn out, and nobody wants to peak in High School."

All four girls shuddered at the thought.

Brittney rested her head on the back of the cart's seat, staring at the plastic canopy overhead. "I've got too much crap going on to worry about High School anymore! I'm looking ahead—college, a career, doing more than just sitting on money and letting my brain rot like those Vanderdweebs did."

"That's what this is about, huh?" Chantal asked.

Megan spoke up. "Does anybody know what happened to those two…?"

The query went unanswered as Brittney continued. "Exactly, that's why I'm mastering every skill I'm interested in."

Chantal's lips pulled into a playful grin. "Okay, but when are you gonna master dating?"

Brittney turned her head to look at her, "Excuse you?"

Chantal shrugged innocently. "I'm just saying—out of all us girls on the squad, you're the only one who hasn't dated anybody. It ain't because of lack of interest, either."

"We know what you like," Megan said.

Chantal nodded towards Sabrina. "I mean, shoot, Sabrina here got a date before you did."

Sabrina timidly raised a finger. "Uh, to be fair, Brittney helped me with that—"

"I do not have time for dating," Brittney snapped, "and even if I did, there's no boy at school worth it."

Megan leaned in. "Not even Roland?"

"I'm too loyal of a friend."

"As you should be," Megan said with a sage nod.

"What about Dipper Pines?" Sabrina asked. "I mean… he seems like your type—good looking, smart…"

"Really tall," Chantal purred.

"Has enough nerve to get in your face in front of the whole school and flip you off?" Megan added.

Brittney rolled her eyes. "I respect him for having the nerve, but dating him? No thanks."

Chantal smirked to herself. "Shoot… then he can get in my face any day."

"Not even any of the swim team guys?" Megan offered.

Brittney's face flushed slightly. "Purely eye candy!"

Chantal opened her mouth to suggest literally anyone from the football team, then quickly reconsidered.

Instead, a more amusing candidate came to mind. "All right, then… what about Marco?"

Brittney immediately shot a harder look at her friend. "What are you implying, Chantal?"

"Me? Nothing at all." She feigned innocence, eyes sparkling.

Megan joined. "Why not, though? He's actually worth your time: 4.0 GPA, martial artist, organized, not even bad-looking—"

"And wears skinny jeans better than every boy and most of the girls at school," Chantal added.

Brittney waved them off sharply. "Marco Diaz is the most socially awkward, insecure, wannabe bad-boy try-hard I've ever met—and I'm not signing up for that mess."

A chorus of sympathetic "Oof!" echoed simultaneously from Sabrina, Chantal, Megan, and even Dudley.

Brittney, secretly relieved, appreciated that her friends felt sympathy for Marco instead of piling on. Given what she knew about him and Star, she wasn't about to say anything that might give anyone the wrong idea—no matter her actual thoughts.

Yeah, she was into the guy for everything that Megan pointed out. And they in fact outweighed his downsides by a lot.

But she was not getting into it with the Warrior Princess from another Dimension over him, She won. Flat out.

She needed to change the subject from her non-existent love life now. "Speaking of, what's going on with you and Roland? Is that ever going to be a thing?"

Megan shrugged her shoulders. "I want him to ask me out."

"Then take a page from Sabrina's book and ask him first," Brittney advised bluntly. "Otherwise, he might never realize he needs to clear his schedule."

"You think he's too busy for me?" Megan asked, affronted.

Brittney didn't even sugarcoat it. "Yes. Unless you make the first move, Roland won't go out of his way."

Seeing Megan's expression, she softened slightly. "It's not your fault—or his—he's out there on that grind for real, and that's exactly why you need to talk to him."

Chantal mulled on that one. "Shoot. If it's like that, I'll ask him out."

"The fuck you will!" Megan snapped instantly.

Brittney gestured triumphantly at Megan's reaction. "See? That's what I mean. Get off your fine ass and talk to him before Chantal's fine ass beats you to it."

Chantal and Sabrina broke into giggles, while Megan shot back with a fiercely competitive, "Bet!"

Up ahead, in her own golf cart, Lori glanced back, smiling warmly at the girls' antics as she parked by the green. "Man, I miss high school and boys being the most I had to worry about."

Dudley parked beside her, and stepped out with Brittney's clubs. "These are truly halcyon days. I only hope they don't waste them like my last employers did."

"Huh? What happened to them?"

Dudley chuckled. "The most wonderful thing that could happen to anyone."

Lori felt a weird chill from that, and wisely called over to Brittney. "Hey, get over here and show me you've been working on your chip."

As Brittney complied and took a club from her bag, Lori continued. "Once you get onto the green, we'll move onto putting practice. Aim away from the hole—I already know you can get it in."

"That's literally what she said," Chantal murmured to Megan and Sabrina while Brittney went over to chip her ball onto the green."

As Sabrina giggled, Megan turned to her. "Hey, I was wondering."

The skittish girl turned to her friend and fellow cheerleader. "Wh-what?"

"Not criticizing the taste, since he cleaned up fine af at the dance, but… why Drew McCormick of all people? It can't be because he's Roland's friend."

"It never helped him before," Chantal added.

Sabrina's face colored, and she looked away. "It's um… actually kind of dumb… but I uh…"

She tapped her fingers together. "I've been low-key crushing on him for a little bit."

Megan and Chantal shared glances, then gawked at Sabrina, as Brittney sized up her shot to get the ball onto the green.

"On… him? Before he turnt up?" Megan asked.

"No shit, for how long?" Chantal asked.

"Since um… the day Jeff and Eddie dropped me during practice."

Now both girls were confused. "Since then? What happened?"

Sabrina looked aside, her face turning red. "It's so stupid—"

"It's not stupid," Brittney said as she performed a practice swing. "There are worse reasons to like somebody."

Megan chuckled. "Girl, it is so weird to see you supportive of a ship."

"Why is it weird?" Brittney asked. "I'm good to my friends!"

Sabrina couldn't help but point out. "Except for when you threw the bag I bought you at me…"

Brittney sighed explosively. "Yes, I am a bitch with flaws. But I'm working on that, okay?!"

"That shit's hard without a therapist, so congrats," Lori said.

Brittney looked at her instructor sharply. "What makes you think I don't have one?"

Everyone stared at her.

In harsh, judgmental silence.

Especially Dudley.

Defeated, Brittney focused on her next shot. "Fuck all of you."

Lining up her club to the ball, while grumbling about how therapists in LA being a bunch of hacks more interested in drama than treatment, Brittney prepared to swing when a distant voice shouted out.

"FORE!"

Brittney whipped around, bracing for an errant golf ball.

Instead, a Scab dropped from the sky towards her, arms above its head and legs curled back, brandishing a short sword aimed to plunge into her face.

She barely had time to gasp before Dudley calmly stepped in, and pulled her protectively behind him as he slipped a stiletto straight into the attacker's head like a bladed UNO reverse card.

The Scab collapsed limply onto the grass and began to break down.

From just off the fairway approached Noxic, trailed by an unruly gang of over a dozen Scabs. The Combat Mecha Army General casually strode forward, a stolen golf visor awkwardly perched atop his metal head, his closed umbrella balanced on his shoulder like a club.

"All right you bums, let 'em know that I'm playin' through!"

At his command, the Scabs scattered and spread over the course, to the shock of the other guests as they were attacked.

Spotting Brittney's group, Noxic stopped and cocked his head. "Hey! What're you dames even doin' here? Don't you know golf is an acronym?!"

Golf Instructor Lori instantly went from surprised to livid. "Excuse me?!"

"You heard me!" Noxic shot back, pointing accusingly. "Gentlemen Only, Ladies Forbidden!"

Without hesitation, Lori snatched a 9-Iron from her golf bag, wielding it like a baseball bat. "I will literally bury you in a sand trap!"

Noxic leaned back in genuine surprise. "Jeez, you wanna fight? Ain't this supposed to be a fancy-schmancy golf course where you folks say 'good heavens' and panic?"

Dudley appeared smoothly beside Noxic, calmly stabbing another Scab in the center of its head as if flicking lint from his sleeve. "This is a public golf course, Master Noxic. Entirely different standards and expectations of behavior apply."

Noxic turned toward Brittney, aghast. "Public?! Enough money for a butler but you're too cheap for a real country club?!"

Suddenly recognizing Dudley was standing well within stabbing range, Noxic jumped back, narrowly dodging another lightning-fast strike. "Whoa! Even your butler's cheap?!"

"I'd say a butler with a particular set of skills is more expensive, not less, Master Noxic."

As Dudley chased Noxic around while one-tapping Scabs that tried to intervene with a dagger in each hand, Brittney had her phone out and was angrily texting Star.

Rule Brittney said:
Third day in a row these idiots show up and ruin my day! I swear to all that is worth my money that you better send someone to deal with this crap QUICK FAST AND IN A HURRY!

"Brittney run!" Megan shouted out, as a Scab approached them, waving its sword around.

"One second, I'm texting—!" Brittney stopped when she found she already got a response.

Star said:
I gotchu homie

Before the Scab could reach her Lori stepped in and swung the club with all her might, cracking the thing in the head with enough force to bend her 9 Iron.

It crumpled to the ground and began to decay into the mechanical wasps that made up its body.

"Ha!" She shouted out, before she looked at the club. "Aw! My husband bought this for me!"

When another Scab tried to attack her, she swung it and brought it down on top of its head repeatedly, bashing it to a pulp. "LOOK WHAT YOU MADE ME DO!"

Seeing more Scabs heading towards them as the fallen machine crumbled to dead robot wasps, however, Lori raced over to the cart the girls were getting into. "All right, we're leaving!"

Noxic, using his umbrella to parry away Dudley's stabs, noticed the cart full of women starting to pull off. "Hey! Scabs! Grab 'em before they get away and rough 'em up a bit!"

"How uncouth," Dudley said as he managed to scratch Noxic's face with a quick thrust. "Is this what you're reduced to? Attacking people who can't fight back?"

"We ain't reduced to nothin'!" Noxic shouted as he opened the umbrella and shot at Dudley with the gun that ran through the shaft. "The Magnavores are here for the world, so everybody is gettin' it eventually! Even dogs! Even vending machines!"

Turning and angling his body to avoid the shots, the old butler evaded the energy bolts that burst from the tip of the umbrella—some bolts passing dangerously close, going through his long driving coat as he moved.

Aiming carefully, he threw a stiletto mid-defensive spin and the slender blade slotted neatly into the barrel of the umbrella's gun.

The next blast from the weapon caused the tip to blow out, ruining the gun, but the sturdy umbrella otherwise remained functional. Pulling the smoking weapon back and closing it, Noxic grew hopping mad. "You're gonna pay for that, you mook!"

"Do you take cash," Dudley rushed forward, and rather than stab at him, turned and barged his shoulder into the Magnavore General's chest, throwing him onto his back. "Or check?!"

Noxic looked up at Dudley before he opened his hands. "I take all my payments… ELECTRONIC!"

He unleashed a burst of electricity that struck Dudley in the chest, knocking the old man off his feet and sending him flying backward from him.

Brittney looked back when she heard the crackle and gasped in genuine horror. "Dudley!"

Noxic got up. "Ha, I finally got somebody with that!"

He turned towards the fleeing cart and pulled a trio of knives. "Hey Alfred. I'm pretty handy with knives, too! Watch this!"

He let the blades fly—razor-sharp, aimed straight for the golf cart of wide-eyed girls—only for a fast-moving object to send the knives scattering away.

Noxic tilted his head to one side. "Huh?"

A red glowing line swept across Noxic's field of vision—then the Green Hunterborg's Hunter Claw slammed into his chest, gripping him tight with crushing force.

With a furious yell, Hunterborg drove Noxic into the turf and plowed him across the fairway, grass and dirt flying, before lifting him up and smashing him straight through a nearby tree.

Launched through the air, Noxic rolled to a stop and watched in a daze as the shattered tree toppled between him and the Beetleborg.

The armored hero stepped forward, his helmet's red oval-shaped eyes fiercely. Beneath the helmet, Roland seethed with fury as he roared at him:

"IS THIS WHAT YOU ON, NOW?! ATTACKING PEOPLE FOR THE FUN OF IT?!"

Noxic staggered upright, brushing debris from his scorched jacket. "I already explained it to Jarvis over there—I ain't sayin' it again!"

He jabbed a finger at Roland defiantly. "But I'll tell you this—we're just gettin' started, ya mook!"

"PLAYING THROUGH!" Mabel shouted from his left.

A speeding golf cart, Lori's own abandoned machine, smashed into Noxic's side with an audible crunch, flipping him wildly across the fairway in a blur of limbs and metal parts.

At the wheel, Mabel waved frantically at Roland. "Hey, use that super-speed and clear out the park—we got this bum!"

She pointed aggressively ahead at Noxic's crumpled form. "GET HIS BUTT!"

Jackie Lynn Thomas launched herself out of the passenger side of the cart, twirling another of Star's steel-tipped spears over her head before catching and brandishing it with a confident grin. "Let's go!"

Hunterborg, quickly looking around at all the other Scabs rioting in the park, understood the assignment and took off in a blur as Jackie ran down Noxic.

With three more knives in his free hand, Noxic sprang to his feet. "Come and get it, girlies!"

He threw the knives at Jackie, who ducked into a slide beneath them and used her momentum to thrust the spear at Noxic's chest. When the Magnavore General sidestepped her, she swung the spear in a wide circle over her head as she got up, forcing him to jump back.

"Watch where you swing that!" Noxic complained as he produced another knife and whipped it at Jackie. "Got ya!"

A quick shift of the spear allowed her to deflect it with the shaft before she swung the head at Noxic.

Raising his arm, Noxic stopped the spear and tried to grab it, but Jackie maneuvered her weapon out of his reach and stabbed at his head, forcing him to lean back to duck.

"Think fast, dude!" She taunted as she pulled back and aimed lower.

Noxic knocked the spear away and down with his other hand. "I'm a robot, I always think fast!"

Jackie drove the spear into the grass, using it like a vaulting pole to slam a flying kick into Noxic's chest.

"Are you sure?" She asked as she landed. "Because I think I caught you lagging!"

Noxic barely sputtered an "I don't lag—!" before Mabel slammed a 7-Iron into the right side of his head.

"FORE!" She shouted, swinging again and carving a vivid gouge across his cheek.

He staggered, his head spinning several times. "Hey don't steal my bit!"

He stopped his head. "Why do you brats hit so hard?!"

"Because I'm a violent maniac!" Mabel lifted the club above her head and brought it down atop Noxic's, causing him to bow forward as he stumbled away.

With her free hand she pulled out a sand wedge and began pummeling him with both. "How! Dare! You! Besmirch! The! Peaceful! Timeless! Game! Of! Golf?!"

She struck him with each word she spoke. "Sure! I've! Never! Played! Real! Golf! But! I! Play! Mini-golf! A lot! And! I! Really! Really! Like it!"

Across the golf course, guests and employees fleeing or trying to fend off the Scabs suddenly found themselves free of their attackers.

One Scab trying to swing his blade down on a golfer defending himself with a putter, lost its head completely.

Another running after fleeing guests in a golf cart was ripped in half by a passing green blur.

A group of three Scabs surrounding a golfer and caddy were one by one destroyed, their heads smashed or taken completely off by the speeding Hunterborg.

All over the park, Scabs fell in pieces, the chaos vanishing with them, while on the fairway, Mabel and Jackie took turns pummeling Noxic until both clubs in Mabel's hands bent with the effort.

From their speeding golf cart making its way back towards Dudley, Lori, Brittney, and the other girls watched in silent awe at the contrast: the Green Hunterborg ripping through robot monsters with machine precision, and Noxic getting flat-out jumped by two feral teenage girls.

Sparks popped and smoke poured from rents in his battered frame as Noxic staggered away from the mauling he received. "Maybe I shoulda attacked a bowling alley instead—"

Jackie's spear pierced him through the chest and out his back. "HEY!"

"Come on, dude, even your own friends say you're the weak one," Jackie said as she twisted the blade in Noxic literally in addition to figuratively.

Mabel grabbed the shaft beside her, and together they lifted Noxic high—like planting a flag atop a war-torn volcanic rock—and slammed him headfirst into the grass.

"So that makes you light work for us!" Mabel finished.

Face down in the turf, Noxic groaned. "If it weren't for the fact I got fleshy friends, I'd say some very hurtful and derogatory things about your organic state," he muttered.

"Instead… I'll just kill you with electricity."

Suddenly, he bent at the waist to sit up and twisted his arms backward, unleashing a burst of lightning that blasted both girls off their feet.

As he stood, smoke trailing from his limbs, he looked up—only to see both Jackie and Mabel rising again, protected by the shimmering Rainbow Sentai Battle Armor Star had laced over them.

"Aw, nuts," he groaned.

Without warning, the Hunter Claw clamped around his body again.

"AW NUTS!"

His head turned a full 180 degrees, staring up at the Green Hunterborg.

Then he looked around the park and saw nothing but the decaying remains of his Scab squad.

"You junked all my Scabs that fast?!"

"And you're going down just as quick, cuh!" Hunterborg roared, raising a fist.

"Aw, crap!" Noxic yelped—and with a nod of his head, vanished in a burst of flame

Hunterborg angrily swept through the flames with a frustrated swing of his arm.

"NAH, CUH! YOU CAME HERE FOR THE SMOKE, AND THERE'S STILL PLENTY!"

"Dudley!" Brittney's voice cracked with alarm, instantly snapping Roland out of his fury. He, Jackie, and Mabel turned to see Brittney and the others gathered around Dudley, helping him sit up.

"Are you okay?" Brittney asked, crouching beside him as he coughed and tried to sit up straighter. "Please be okay—you are way too cool to die after only three days of working for me!"

"Brittney," Chantal said flatly.

She glanced at her, then added quickly, "And also you being hurt would suck!"

"… Baby steps," Chantal muttered.

Dudley sat up with a dry cough, brushed off his shoulders, then nodded to his charge. "No worries, Master Brittney… 50,000 volts won't kill me… as long as the amps remain low."

Brittney sagged with relief—then threw herself forward, wrapping her arms around him in a tight hug.

"Good."

The old butler blinked in mild surprise that someone he worked for cared enough to actually hug him.

This… was going to take time to get used to.

"Is anyone else hurt?" Mabel asked as she, Jackie, and Hunterborg hurried over.

"Ambulances are on the way," Hunterborg reported. "But… I didn't see anyone down while I was cleaning up. People mostly ran or fought back long enough for me to get 'em."

Mabel brightened. "Then we got here in the nick of time, like real heroes do!"

Lori chimed in. "Those monster guys weren't that tough, honestly. I literally took down two."

She hesitated, then mournfully added, "… But the 9-iron my husband gave me…"

"I'll pay to have it repaired," Brittney said, already tending to Dudley with surprising competence as Mabel pulled out and offered a first-aid kit.

Lori raised an eyebrow. "You are the weirdest rich kid I've ever met."

"There are worse," Dudley said, managing a chuckle as Brittney taped a bandage to the back of his hand.

Then he smiled faintly.

"… Were worse."

Lori only had more questions about this weird old guy.

Brittney turned Mabel, Jackie, and Hunterborg. "Thank you for getting here so fast."

Jackie leaned casually on her spear. "Don't sweat it. We're on call."

Mabel looked up from her work and beamed. "The Magnavores have been showing up almost every day this week, so Dipper's got us on high alert if anything happens, anytime!"

That made Brittney narrow her eyes, concern flickering in them. "Is that their plan now? Attack every day until you guys burn out?"

"If it is, it's a dumb plan," Hunterborg said. "We already got that style peeped out. They'll need a lot more Scabs than that."

Jackie scanned the wreckage around the park. "And this was weak anyway. Sending Noxic after that dragon psycho from yesterday?"

"Yeah," Mabel nodded. "I'll even put good money on Typhus being next."

"Bet," Hunterborg replied, holding out his armored hand. "I got Jara."

Mabel slapped her hand into his. "No take-backs."

Chantal turned to Jackie. "So you're really rolling with these guys now?"

Jackie flashed her signature half-smirk. "I'm a ride or die, dude. This stuff is tough—I got to throw hands with Shego back on Monday."

Chantal's jaw dropped. Megan blinked.

"No shit?" Both asked.

"Yeah, and I met Kim Possible, too! Kim's actually super chill, she even follows Star's vlog."

The girls were stunned. "No shit!?"

"Oh—and she's not dating Ron."

Megan squinted. "Now you're just making shit up."

"Nope," Mabel said, raising a hand like she was swearing in. "We met her boyfriend. Some generically hunky dude named Eric."

Chantal and Megan traded a look, then said in unison, "How generic are we talking?"

Before anyone could answer, Sabrina—who wasn't exactly into hunky guys—quietly pointed toward the entrance. "Um… the police are here."

Sure enough, red and blue lights flashed near the country club gates.

At the same moment, Roland's helmet HUD pinged—Misao's voice buzzed in his ear.

"The police are arriving, and it looks like they're heavily armed again. We'll be opening a portal for you in a moment."

Hunterborg turned to Mabel as a squad car powered onto the golf course, sirens blaring. "Portal's coming in a sec."

A Glendale Police cruiser skidded to a halt near the torn-up fairway, and two officers stepped out—both in full tactical gear, body armor, and carrying rifles.

The first looked like a department-store mannequin version of Clark Kent: broad shoulders, a decently handsome face, and a single defiant curl of hair hanging over his forehead. The second looked like Jimmy Olsen if he had let himself go in his twenties, spent his thirties trying to get it back, and finally gave up somewhere in his forties when the male pattern baldness claimed his scalp and self-esteem.

"Nobody move!" barked Clark Kent but a Cop, raising his rifle and aiming it at Hunterborg. His partner followed suit.

"Get on the ground! Drop your weapons!"

Hunterborg glanced at his massive Hunter Claw, then back at the officers. "I can't. It's attached."

"I said get down!" the larger officer barked again. "I'm not going to tell you twice!"

Brittney had had it.

"HEY!" she snapped, stomping forward. "You idiots are five minutes late! The monsters are already gone!"

The cops flinched as if slapped. Both lowered their rifles reflexively.

Brittney didn't slow down. She marched straight up to them, fire blazing in her eyes. "That Beetleborg just saved our lives and you're aiming guns at him? How about you clowns get back in your toy car and off this damn golf course before I buy your entire department and throw it into the ocean!"

Mabel, still placing anime stickers on Dudley's hands, turned to Sabrina, Chantal, and Megan. "She's really like that, huh?"

All three nodded in unison.

Whipping her hair, Brittney pointed at the Clark Kent looking fellow, who was sputtering at being yelled at with such intensity by such a small young lady. "What's your name and badge number?!"

"Uh—Boxter Hamdon," he said quickly, gesturing to his partner. "And this is Officer Jeb Wackerman."

Brittney glared.

Officer Hamdon tried to recover. "Look, we were told there were monsters. We didn't want a repeat of the last few days."

Mabel looked up, mid-sticker. "You said Baxter, right?"

"No. Boxter."

She stared at him, face blank. "You're Dad Hot… but your name's dumb."

Officer Hamdon rolled his eyes. "Where… where are the monsters?"

"I just told you—they're gone!" Brittney snapped, jabbing a finger toward Hunterborg, Mabel, and Jackie. "They beat the monsters!"

Then she pointed squarely at the two officers. "You ruined the First Hole, treated the actual heroes like criminals, and now you look like idiots!"

Chantal smirked. "Cops ruining—"

"Don't say degenerate things," Sabrina cut her off.

At that moment, a shimmering Dimensional Scissors portal opened behind Hunterborg, who greeted it like a long-suffering talk show guest embracing the sweet release of death.

"Let's get somewhere a little more kosher already, cuh," he muttered.

Mabel burst into laughter. "Ha! I get it!"

Just before stepping through, she turned and pointed at the stunned officers, her cheerful tone sharpened with menace. "How about you make yourselves useful and make sure that old man's stable for the ambulance?"

She smiled sweetly. "Even you can manage that, right? Bye~!"

With that, she spun on her heel and followed Jackie and Hunterborg through the portal. It snapped shut behind her with a final, satisfying shimmer.

Officer Wackerman glanced at his partner, muttering, "Wow. Those might be the most disrespectful wannabe superheroes I've ever seen. Almost makes you wish SheZow was still around, huh?"

Officer Hamdon looked ready to respond—face twisted with frustration—but before he could speak, Brittney spun around and shouted at them:

"YEAH, SHAME SHE ISN'T AROUND ANYMORE TO PROTECT US FROM MONSTERS LIKE THESE, HUH?!"

Lori walked over and gently but firmly took Brittney by the arm, guiding her away. "Okay, I love the righteous energy, but maybe sit down and breathe before you literally combust, okay?"

Dudley, looking better thanks to Brittney and Mabel's first aid, raised his voice calmly toward the officers.

"I suggest you go direct the EMTs to our location as the young Master suggested… before Master Brittney decides to harm one of you."

Officer Hamdon shot his partner a withering glare. Without another word, both officers beat a hasty retreat to their cruiser.

As they got back into the cruiser, Wackerman muttered, "Man, I miss when monsters were the only scary part of this job."

Hamdon didn't respond. He just started the engine and drove.

@@@@@​

At the Beetle Battle Base, Misao sat at her main console, working between the base's magical interface and a cute purple-and-green laptop balanced on her lap. On the laptop screen played a shaky eyewitness video from the previous day—Barla, caught mid-attack as she fired a blast from the mouth of the dragon head that made up her chest plate.

Misao's eyes flicked between screens, her fingers dancing across both keyboards. She tapped out line after line of code on the base's terminal, cross-referencing data in an open window on her laptop. After one final keystroke, she hit enter and leaned back.

The image on her screen shifted: the video dissolved into a 3D wireframe model of Barla, animating the same destructive blast in perfect sync.

"… Good… good," Misao murmured. "This is very enlightening."

To her left, Dipper looked up as Hunterborg, Mabel, and Jackie stepped through the portal. As it closed, Roland blasted back and banished his Beetle Bonder.

His disappearing armor revealed an expression tight with irritation.

"What happened?" Dipper asked.

"That Butler Dudley got hurt fighting Noxic. But otherwise? Everything's fine."

Misao turned in her chair, brows knitting. "Oh no—is Herr Dudley okay?"

"He's good," Mabel said. "Tough old dude. Like a British Sherpa."

Jackie added, "The cops showed up again and tried to arrest Roland. Brittney kinda lost it on them for that."

Misao frowned. "Ugh. Elise is going to have another word with them."

"Forget it, cuh," Roland said sharply. "They're gonna keep pulling that crap until they finally cuff somebody."

"They can try," Dipper said, calm but focused. "We just need to work around it until we get a legal opening to shut that nonsense down."

He pivoted to the pressing matter. "But why was Noxic even there?"

"I don't know, cuh," Roland muttered. "He wasn't after anything, just out there looking for smoke."

"Right?" Jackie said. "They sent Noxic. Not Typhus, not Jara, or Barla. Just Noxic. It felt off."

"And we put him down fast," Mabel added, arms crossed.

She paused. "… Almost too fast."

Dipper and Misao answered in sync. "They're obviously up to something."

"Yeah, but what?" Roland asked.

"No point in agonizing over it," Dipper said. "We've got the Battle Base watching out for them. Whatever they're up to, we'll figure it out—especially if we have to beat it out of them."

Misao nodded. "So for now? Rest. In case they try anything tomorrow."

"Or later today," Jackie quipped. "It is only the morning."

Roland exhaled, frustrated but relenting. "Whatever, cuh. Call me when Jara shows up."

"It's gonna be Typhus," Mabel insisted.

Roland headed for the exit. "Sure it is."

"I promise you!" Mabel called after him, already turning to follow. She glanced back and waved. "See you when you get home!"

Jackie lingered a moment. She looked at Dipper and Misao. "What's the plan when Barla comes back?"

Dipper looked at Misao.

Misao gave Jackie a small, confident smile.

"A good one."

= - = 9-2 = - =​

What are the Magnavores up to, this time?

 

[The Ero-Sennin]

World building, get your world building here! I've got lore, I've got history. All the context you need to understand the way things are, right here!

= - = 9-3 = - =

|Persecution|​

Just a few hours later, Roland was restocking comics at Zoom, joined by Jo. He was still seething—not just from the fight, but the cops' pathetic response afterward. But business at the comic shop hadn't slowed down, even after days of monster attacks. It gave him something to focus on. Something to ground him.

Unfortunately, Jo had shown up with a revelation he was not happy to hear.

"Huh?" He blinked, slack-jawed, still processing.

Jo sighed. "I know you heard me."

"Nah, say that shit again," Roland snapped, the heat rising in his voice. "Because it sounds like some bullshit."

It wasn't yelling, but his tone could've sliced through Noxic and Typhus like glass.

"How long's this been going on?"

"Since before we moved here from Charterville," she said. "As far back as I can remember, actually."

"So all the time he's been on Twin… that wasn't just him being a hardass, he straight hates him?" Roland said harshly, barely keeping his tone down.

Jo nodded grimly. "Yep."

"And you didn't think to tell Nano? Or Mr. Pines? They'd knock him out of his shoes!"

Jo held up both hands. "Hold up—it's complicated. Until recently, this was just our normal. Drew was Dad's chew toy, and I was the golden child. For a while, he even treated me better just to turn me against him… but you know, we Beetle Bonded."

She looked aside, remembering something unpleasant. "Since then we both got so good at coping, we just kinda… lived with it."

Roland bit back the worst of his anger. But it didn't leave. "Until we started fighting the Magnavores, huh?"

"Yep," Jo said again, softer now. "And I gotta say—I'm kinda impressed. It's only been a couple weeks, but Drew? He's locked in. The stuff that used to mess with him just… doesn't anymore. He talked to Heather. Went to the dance. Stood up to the Vanderhoffs."

She smirked. "And he's got a date with Sabrina this weekend."

Roland's expression flickered—surprise, then satisfaction.

"Wait… he asked her out?"

Jo grinned. "She asked him."

His scowl cracked just a little, and the pride slipped through.

"… My man."

Still, he wasn't about to let the matter slide.

"We gotta do something about your dad," he said with a grimace.

"I'm planning to tell Nano on Saturday," Jo revealed.

"Why not just tell her when she gets here?"

"Because I'm afraid she's gonna kill Dad immediately," Jo deadpanned. "And that might throw a wrench in Drew's date."

Roland paused. He knew his grandmother.

"Yeah… she would," he conceded. "So when's the date?"

"Saturday. They're going down to Santa Monica Pier. So at least they'll be miles away from ground zero when it happens."

"Nah, cuh," Roland muttered, grabbing another stack of comics from the cardboard box beside him. "With what Nano might do? They could still catch the heat out there."

He shook his head, seething again. "Shoot, I'm ready to pull up and stomp him out myself."

Jo snorted. "How do you boys have so much restraint?"

Before Roland could answer, the low, rumbling growl of a motorcycle engine echoed outside. Both of them turned their heads just slightly. They knew that sound.

Nano had arrived.

Roland handed the stack of comics to Jo. "Can you finish these X-Men books? I gotta go talk to Nano 'bout some things."

"Sure," Jo said, suddenly cautious. "Just… don't tell her what I told you."

Roland thumped his chest, then pointed at her. "It's cool, cuh. I got you."

As he headed to the front of the comic book shop, Nano came shuffling in, removing her leather jacket and putting on her reading glasses. Her brow was furrowed, tension lingering in her shoulders—but the moment she spotted him, her face lit up like a porch light at sundown.

"Hey Nano, you okay?" he asked, catching the weight in her eyes.

Nano smiled and pulled him into a hug. "Oh, I'm fine, baby. Your old Nano's just had a lot on her plate today. Had to swing by City Hall, wrap up paperwork for expanding the shop, and yell at the Mayor about that mess from yesterday."

"When they tried to arrest Marco?" Roland asked, playing casual.

"Mmhm. I hope he's all right," she said, concern threading through her voice.

"He's still on schedule for class at the dojo, so I think he's good," Roland replied, trying not to sound too invested. "So... how'd yelling at the Mayor go?"

Nano gave a slow nod, clearly holding back a smirk. "He told me the police aren't going to arrest anyone defending themselves or others—but the Beetleborgs aren't going to be allowed to 'run around unchecked' because of the Peregrine Law."

Roland tightened his jaw briefly, holding back a curse. "So they show up late, can't stop anything, and now they wanna pull this crap just so they don't look useless?"

Nano agreed. "Mmhm! It's what they do when they can't catch bad guys, they snatch up the heroes and blame 'em for the crime they fight."

"Speaking of..." Roland paused. "There's something I've wanted to ask. Can we sit?"

Nano smiled again, softer this time. "Of course, baby. Right over here."

They sat across from each other at one of the reading tables, a cozy little café corner where customers could enjoy comics with their tea. Nano folded her hands on the table and looked at him kindly.

"What's on your mind? There something you wanna talk to your Nano about?"

Roland wasn't ready for that conversation, not yet, but he knew how these things worked. Genre-savvy ran deep in his DNA.

"Have you ever met… SheZow?" He asked.

Nano grew surprised, not expecting him to bring up such a subject. Still, she rolled with it.

"Once, way back, just before Drew and Jo moved to town." Nano pulled out her phone and began swiping through images on it.

After more than a few flicks, she found the photo and held it up. Holding it up, she showed him a selfie featuring Nano and a woman of indeterminable age.

She was just a little taller than Nano, with long, waist-length hair that sported a bright pink streak down the right side. She was dressed in shades of pink—a pink miniskirt held with a black belt with an S-shaped symbol in the center, a top bearing a familiar S-shape in the center with leopard-printed sleeves and leggings. The outfit was completed with thigh-length white high-heeled boots, a dark pink cape, and light pink gloves.

Roland's eyes zeroed in on her right hand. On her index finger: an S-shaped ring, exactly the size and shape of the slot on the mysterious armoire in Wolfy's room.

Dipper had suggested SheZow might be the key to unlocking the armoire—and this image confirmed it beyond any doubt.

Which… was a problem.

A big one.

Nano gave context to the photo. "This was taken in 2009, just after the war started and thousands of refugees began arriving every day. People were up in arms, complaining about where they were going to go, not wanting those people showing up. So, SheZow and some of the local money stepped in."

She smirked, proudly. "They bought out every hotel in Beverly Hills so those folks wouldn't be sleeping on the sidewalk the second they got here and worked double time to get them settled in actual apartments or homes."

Roland remembered Nano being in the news for that. She volunteered in one of those hotel kitchens for over two weeks straight.

"Hold up," he said, doing a double take. "Every hotel… in the Hills? The luxuries?"

Nano nodded. "Mhm! It was SheZow's idea. We bought up rooms in Bel Air, Hollywood, the Palisades, and Glendale, too."

She let out a short laugh. "'Not in my backyard?' I remember she said. 'Fine. We'll move 'em in next door.'"

Roland couldn't help it. He smiled. "Dang. She was a real one. So… what happened?"

Nano sighed, pulling the phone back and locking it.

"It wasn't the same with her after that," she said quietly. "After years of just smacking around criminals and supervillains, I don't think the public was ready for the Glam Queen Heroine to be an actual hero."

Roland frowned. "What do you mean?"

Nano shot him a look—one that said you already know.

"You know damn well what I mean," she said. "Remember what we talked about? How there aren't many adult superheroes left? There's a reason for that—heroes are only tolerated as long as they stay in their lane. You know, cats in trees, bank robbers, the occasional mad scientist or their creation."

She leaned forward, arms folded on the table. "But start causing trouble for the real villains? The ones with offshore accounts, private security, lobbyists? Baby, they make you disappear."

She let that hang.

"It happened to SheZow. Happened to Peregrine in the '90s. Happened to The Freeman in the '60s. And a whole list of folks in between who were doing real good—until suddenly, they weren't around anymore."

Roland felt his gut sink. "The powers that be."

Nano nodded slowly. "The powers that be. There's three ways to survive, baby. One: stick to your mission and whack every mole that pops up, fast. Two: quit while you're up, and stay the hell away from politics. Or…"

Roland narrowed his eyes. "Become a cop."

Nano gave him a look of solemn confirmation. "Just like SheZow's bitch of an ex-sidekick, god damn Tara."

Roland considered telling her about Marco's run-in with Tara… and decided against it. For now.

"Pardon my language, Big Nano," he said, voice low, "but that is some fuck shit."

Nano didn't even flinch. "It is some fuck shit. SheZow finally quit because the heat got turned up on her. Which is a damn shame because the twins and their friends could use someone like her on their side."

Roland nodded slowly. "I remember how bad that was. Do you think she retired? Or…" He trailed off.

Nano took a deep breath. "Hard to say. Even before she disappeared, she started falling off. Stopped calling people she used to. Started getting sloppy—fumbled in fights she should've had on lock."

She frowned. "Got a new sidekick who was way below her standards."

She looked down at the table, a heaviness behind her voice. "But then… she'd been at it nonstop since 1962."

Roland's throat tightened. That was a long time to be doing anything, but being a Superhero?

"She's gone," he murmured. "Damn."

Nano reached out and set a hand on his. "Now stop talkin' like it's a done deal. I don't know—Dipper's a smart young man. If he pokes around Glendale, he might turn something up."

Of course she'd say it like that—implying that Roland had every reason to pitch this to Dipper larter himself.. Roland didn't grimace, but it took effort.

He met her eyes instead of dodging them. "… How long?"

"From day one," Nano said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Y'all are too young to be sneakin' things past your Nano. I know Shermie knows, too."

"Does he know you know?"

"He thinks I know he knows, but he's an honorable man and a gentleman. He ain't gon' snitch on you. Even to yours truly."

"Dang right. Unc's been a real one. He even had our backs when Shego snatched Misao."

"As he should," Nano nodded firmly. Then she dropped her voice low. "And you better let me know if you ever need help with anything. Especially if it's dealin' with these dirty-ass pigs."

Roland grinned, matching her tone. "Actually, there's a few things…"

Nano leaned in, curious.

Roland smiled. "Actually, there's a few things, Nano. First thing is that we need some of your Beetleborg comics so we can defeat the Magnavores."

"Which ones?" Nano stopped. "Actually, don't even worry about it, baby. Any comic you need from my collection is yours."

That was way easier than expected. "Thanks. And, uh… the other thing…"

He glanced around the shop, then back at her.

"I need to know more about SheZow. We found something at the Hillhurst Mansion—something she's connected to. If we can find her, we might figure out why the Magnavores are back… and how we were even able to become Beetleborgs."

Nano blinked, eyes narrowing. "Hol' up. You're tellin' me… Star didn't give you those powers?"

She leaned forward, voice low and serious now. "… What the hell is going on up at Hillhurst?"

Roland's grin faded.

He sighed.

"… We might need to go to the back so I can tell you everything."

He had no idea how helpful telling Nano about what happened would actually be.

@@@@@​

Drew stood in the garage by the bike rack, his expression tight with frustration.

His bike floated in front of him, suspended by his telekinesis as he inspected the front tire. Completely flat. The rear tire? Also flat. No matter how much air he pushed in with his powers, it refused to hold.

Tilting the bike slightly in midair, he found the problem—both tires had been stabbed clean through with a kitchen knife. Not slashed. Stabbed. Neatly. Deliberately.

And as if that weren't enough, the seat wobbled when he moved it—from missing a crucial screw securing it to the seat post.

Why even bother with the seat when the tires are already wrecked?

He glanced over his shoulder at the empty space where his parents' cars would normally be parked.

Note to self: crack their windshields.

He sighed, set the bike gently on the rack, and walked back inside. Crossing the living room and stepping out into the backyard, he pulled out his phone and dialed Marco.

Marco picked up on the first ring. "Hey Drew, what's up?"

"Hey, my bicycle's out of commission; can you open a portal to the dojo?"

"Yeah, of course. Good timing—Star and I just got here. Gimme a sec."

A moment later, a portal ripped open in the air. Drew stepped through—only to be immediately ambushed by a hug from Star.

"Hey Drew!"

He froze. He knew Star was a hugger—every girl in the group except Janna and Jo was—but the surprise still knocked him off balance.

"Uh… hey. What's the occasion…?"

"I'm just in a good mood!" Star grinned, then cartwheeled across the dojo and latched onto Marco's arm like a Koala.

Star being in a good mood wasn't anything new, so Drew didn't dwell on it. "Did you hear about the attack on the golf course?"

"Yeah," Marco muttered, absently nuzzling Star's cheek as he unlocked the dojo door. "Especially the part about the cops treating you three like The Peregrine to save face."

Star swept her gaze between them. "Who's the Peregrine? And why are they treating you like him?"

Drew sighed into his palm. "Right… so, before any of us were born, there was this genius inventor who built high-tech armor and used it to fight crime."

He pulled out his phone, tapped out a quick search, and held it up. On the screen was an image of a man in sleek white-and-blue segmented armor with dark, aerodynamic wings. His helmet resembled a bird of prey, with a smooth, angular faceplate and glowing yellow eyes—mid-flight, caught like a falcon diving on its prey.

"This is the guy, the news started calling him The Peregrine."

Star's eyes sparkled. "Oooh… he looks so cool!"

"You've seen Batman and Iron Man over at Zoom, right?" Drew asked.

At her nod, he continued, "He was like a mashup of both. Super famous during his time—almost as big as Kim Possible is now. But eventually, someone stole his tech and sold it to arms dealers. When that happened, he crashed out and tried to destroy his tech so it wouldn't be misused."

The sparkles left her eyes. "What happened? Did he win?"

Drew shook his head. "No, he lost. Even worse, the government pinned it on him to make an example out of him."

He gestured to himself, then Marco. "That's why they passed the Peregrine Laws. No more billionaire super-scientists with principles running around in combat armor and secret identities."

Star frowned, chewing on the thought. "Why blame him for a justified crash out? What about the guys who stole his stuff?"

Marco chimed in, voice dry: "The Government probably didn't care, as long as they got the tech themselves in the end."

Drew nodded. "Yeah, stuff like the cyborgs and Unmanned Gears that were doing security at the Dance all come from his technology getting out."

"That's so scummy!" Star exclaimed. "So what happens if they actually arrest you, Jo, and Roland? What do they do about the monsters then?"

Drew just shrugged, masking the churn of darker thoughts—what would happen if someone like his father found out he was a Beetleborg? Or worse, found out how he became one?

"Hopefully?" He said, voice even. "We don't have to find out."

Right outside the dojo, at that very moment, Sensei Brantley walked up, looking forward to setting up for the evening's classes. He had just reached the door, when he heard what sounded like a rush of flame behind him in the plaza's parking lot, followed by a voice calling out to him.

"Hey, I remember you!"

Sensei Brantley recognized that voice—Typhus.

Turning, the martial arts instructor startled at the sight: the so-called Bio Lord, flanked by at least twenty Scabs, standing like a freakish army in the middle of the shopping plaza.

"You're that karate guy who trains the hoodie kid!" Typhus shouted with a grin. "Hey, how's it goin', baby?"

Chaos broke out instantly. Shoppers screamed and scattered, fleeing the monsters that had been all over the news.

Sensei Brantley let his duffle bag drop. Calmly, he rolled his shoulders and answered, "I'm going with peace, bro… but I'm ready for war if you test me."

Typhus let out a laugh. "I like that. So how about this? Put up a good fight, and I'll leave you alive enough for your student to come rescue what's left!"

With a dramatic flourish, Typhus drew his shotgun sword—from the grotesque mouth atop his head—and pointed it directly at Sensei Brantley. "Scabs! Jump this guy!"

Sensei Brantley quickly assumed a fighting stance as the Scabs came charging at him with no weapons drawn.

"How generous of you to go easy on me," he coolly complimented.

The first Scab twitched and shuddered like an epileptic in a fit, then suddenly snapped forward with a straight right aimed at Sensei Brantley's face.

Sensei Brantley deflected the blow high with his right hand and brought that same hand crashing down onto the creature's skull in a fierce chop, flattening it.

Shifting left, he stomped hard on another Scab's foot and smashed its head with a vicious backfist.

A third lunged into range—and Sensei Brantley dropped it instantly with a snap kick to the chest, then spun cleanly into a whip-like roundhouse that floored a fourth.

The flurry cleared just enough space. Sensei Brantley broke into a run, slipping past the rest of the swarm—more than a dozen Scabs closing in—before turning to face them again. He kept his distance from them with long, controlled hops backward.

One Scab broke ahead of the pack, swinging hard with a left hook, its motion buzzing like a swarm of wasps. Sensei Brantley met it with a solid block from his right forearm, then countered with a left palm thrust that collapsed the front half of its head.

As it crumpled, he sidestepped two more that dove in from either side, then caught another in the gut with a front kick. It staggered—just long enough for Sensei Brantley to follow up with a powerful roundhouse to the side of its skull, sending it spinning into the pavement.

"Booyah!" Sensei Brantley shouted, side-hopping away from the next wave. "Whoa!"

The Scabs regrouped, spreading to encircle him. Typhus strolled forward, savoring the chaos.

"Dang! Now I see where the kid gets it from! You're a great fighter, baby!"

Sensei Brantley didn't smile. He scanned the tightening circle, sharp-eyed. He could read each of these things like a five page comic book. They were messy, unorganized—used more for overwhelming a guy and herding enemies into a place where the actual muscle could do harm.

That's what's happening here, Sensei Brantley thought before movement behind the crowd caught his attention—Star and Marco leaving the Dojo and spotting the mayhem.

He smirked.

"I'm a teacher," he said. "Fighting's the easy part. The hard part is teaching fighters to do good."

"BACON KITTY HAWAIIAN NIGHTMARE!"

Star's spell hit like an abstract painting in a blender—a surreal storm of three-eyed kittens, eldritch pineapples, and sizzling bacon whirled through the lot, knocking half the Scabs aside and sending Typhus tumbling backward.

Star and Marco rushed to join Sensei Brantley's side, the former lowering her wand as the latter locked in a fighting stance.

"Wrong place, wrong time, ugly!" Marco snapped at Typhus. "But that's perfect for me—I've got some issues to work out!"

Typhus let out a hearty laugh. "Well then come and get it, baby!"

He slapped his chest. "Throw those hands!"

"Whoa, that is some Super Sentai timing," Sensei Brantley observed as Marco rushed past him to the right—only for the remaining Scabs to block his path.

Star dashed past on Sensei Brantley's left. "We're calling it Super Sen-timing!"

"I'm remembering that," Sensei Brantley replied with a grin—then took off running, matching Marco's speed. Together, they launched a synchronized front kick, each sending one Scab flying.

As Scabs swarmed the two martial artists, Star reached Typhus and launched into a somersault kick, landing a clean shot to his chin. As he reeled from the hit, she twisted mid-air and leveled her wand at him.

"STRAWBERRY ANNIHILATION!"

A searing pink beam of strawberry seeds ripped into Typhus, melting asphalt beneath him before he roared and batted away the last of the blast with his sword.

"Heheheheh…!" Typhus chuckled, his body already regenerating. He lunged. "Keep hittin' like that, and you might actually win, baby!"

Star narrowly rolled beneath his vertical swing, dodging the spinning backhand that followed from his clawed arm.

"What did I tell you about that?! Tiara Tornado!"

A flurry of spinning tiaras, crowns, and regal diadems hammered into Typhus like high-speed shrapnel, ricocheting off his armor and peeling away strips of grotesque flesh. But the Magnavore General only laughed and barreled forward again.

As Star bobbed and weaved around Typhus to blast him in the back, Marco smashed a Scab with a left-right-uppercut combo, then floored another with a roundhouse kick. "Two attacks in one day…!"

He blocked a slash with his forearm, hooked the attacker's arm, and palm-thrusted the Scab's faceplate. Something cracked inside its skull. Marco spun and hurled it to the pavement.

Behind him, Sensei Brantley launched another Scab into the air with a high kick, then fluidly ducked and slipped two strikes from attackers on either side. When one tried to stab him, he seized its wrist, turned, and stabbed the other Scab through the face using its partner's blade.

"As a machine you lack soul. And without soul, you know not tranquility," Sensei Brantley said calmly. He followed with an elbow to the top of the first Scab's head, slamming it to the ground—then crushed its skull underfoot.

"Mr. Diaz! Don't let your frustrations drive your fists—let them flow from them!"

"Yes, sensei!" Marco called back, just as he grabbed a Scab's head and kneed it with such force it crumpled instantly.

He and Sensei Brantley quickly assessed the field. About a dozen Scabs still remained, while Star flung spell after spell at Typhus, hoping to land something decisive.

"Winterstorm Hyperblow!" She called out to ice him over again.

But this time Typhus charged through it. Ice barely formed before he melted it with his heat.

"I got no chill today, baby!" he bellowed—and pointed his shotgun at the onrushing spell, unleashing a beam that collided with it. The clash created a massive steam explosion that billowed through the lot like fog.

Star shielded her eyes, buffeted by the mix of heat and cold. In the mist, she spotted Typhus's silhouette—sword raised, laughter echoing.

"I'm too fired up for it!"

But then he saw something moving through the fog. A figure.

With an eager roar, Typhus turned towards the movement swung down—and his sword crashed against the upraised Stinger Blade, scattering the fog in a burst of force.

The red glow of Drew's helmet slits blazed in the mist.

Without hesitation, he spun, knocking Typhus's sword aside. Still turning, he slashed down and up, slicing across Typhus's chest—then blasted him with a telekinetic shockwave that hurled the Bio Lord into a parked car.

"Then you're getting put out—and put down!" Drew growled, voice tight with fury.

He drew the Input Magnum, keying in 0-1-0. "Hit him again with the ice!"

Star appeared beside him, cheek marks glowing. "Got it! Super Mega…!"

Stingerborg aimed at Typhus as he got up. "Freezing Mode!"

"WINTERSTORM HYPERBLOW!"

"Fire!"

Their twin blasts hit Typhus and the car in a synchronized strike, flash-freezing both in solid ice. Typhus strained to break free—trying to lift his sword—but his effort failed as the ice overtook him.

Seeing their General fall, the remaining Scabs broke formation. Several disengaged from Marco and Sensei Brantley and rushed toward the Beetleborg and the Butterfly—drawing their weapons as they approached.

The first to reach Stingerborg swung its sword—only for its arm and weapon to fall, severed cleanly in a blink.

Star ducked beneath a second Scab's swing, lifting her right leg as she dropped to drive a sharp kick into its face. The blow staggered it—just enough for her to rise and fire a Laser Beam Blast straight into its chest.

"On your right—duck!" She shouted.

Stingerborg dropped instantly. A Strawberry Annihilation blast lanced over him, obliterating a Scab's head and upper body in a flash of pink energy.

Without missing a beat, Drew charged past her, his blade swinging upward in a savage uppercut. The Stinger Blade cleaved a Scab clean in half, crotch to crown. With a sharp follow-through, he decapitated its split skull midair, then pivoted—switching his Input Magnum to Beam Mode—and fired off several clean, controlled shots that forced back another Scab advancing on Star.

"Finish Typhus off—now!" He commanded.

Star didn't need to be told twice. She dipped down and hauled up her magic, the glow from her cheek marks growing brighter as she lifted her wand above her head.

"Super Mega…!"

Seeing the charge-up, Sensei Brantley called to Marco while fending off another Scab. "Mr. Diaz! Your Not-Girlfriend-Who-Lives-With-You is about to Crash Out!"

Marco ducked a wide swing from a Scab, rolled to his feet, and spotted Star glowing like a bomb about to go off. His gaze darted to Typhus, still frozen against the car—and to the parking lot beyond.

Thinking fast, he whipped out the Dimensional Scissors and slashed a portal open in the pavement—the aperture pointed straight to the sky.

"Sensei, clear the portal zone!" He shouted and Sensei Brantley nodded.

"Hey! Dill-weeds!" Marco called the Scabs, waving an arm. "Over here!"

The remaining Scabs turned and charged after him, ignoring everything else.

As Marco and Sensei Brantley retreated, Star dug deep. She tapped the same power she'd used on Vexor—maybe even deeper.

Her eyes opened and light flared from them, the raw magic that now flooded her body to be poured straight from her wand.

"LASER BEAM BLAST!"

The beam that erupted from her wand was taller than she was, a blinding column of energy that flash-melted asphalt beneath and incinerated the frozen car as it slammed into Typhus. The blast surged forward, nearly engulfing the portal's edge as it surged straight through the rift in space Marco had created.

In the same instant, the beam exploded out of the second portal—shooting skyward like a divine strike, obliterating the Scabs chasing Marco and Sensei Brantley and slicing through the light clouds above Hill-Trank Plaza.

Inside the roaring column of energy, Typhus felt the full burn. It melted ice, armor, and flesh alike—just like the blast that had put Vexor out of action.

He grit his teeth against the searing pain.

It felt the same… but the heart, the rage that had fueled it back then? It wasn't quite here this time.

But it was close.

So close.

"YOU'RE GETTIN'...!" He bellowed over the roar, body starting to give way.

"… STRONGER, BABY!"

With a final, howling laugh, Typhus let go and allowed the blast to carry him through the portal—rocketing into the sky above Hill-Trank Plaza in a streak of light and vapor.

Not far from the blast, Elise sat at a red light in her minivan, watching the beam carve the sky. Her face shifted from awe to deep concern.

"Oh shoot."

The howl of sirens snapped her out of it. A Glendale Police cruiser rocketed past, headed toward the strip mall.

"…Oh. Shoot."

Back in the lot, the massive Laser Beam Blast finally faded, the swirling portals sealing shut with a faint hum. Star lowered her wand as thin steam curled from the bell. The glow on her cheeks dimmed to a faint, pale blue.

She turned her eyes skyward, scanning the clouds.

Stingerborg stepped up beside her, silent and watchful. Marco and Sensei Brantley joined them moments later.

"Do… do you think that got him?" Marco asked.

"I hope so," Star said. "I really don't like him calling me baby, baby."

"I think that's just his thing," Stingerborg noted.

Star huffed. "Well, I still don't like it."

Stingerborg folded his arms. "He's a regenerator. If any part of him survived that, he'll be back eventually."

Marco groaned. "Between him basically being Cell and Noxic acting like Metal Cooler, I'm starting to wonder what it's gonna take to finish them for good."

Star turned to him, confused. "Who are Cell and Metal Cooler?"

Marco explained. "Villains from Dragon Ball. Cell's the best one, actually."

Drew thought otherwise. "Freeza's better."

Marco gestured to Stingerborg as he spoke to Star. "Ignore that opinion, it's factually incorrect."

Beneath the helmet Drew raised a brow. "Next you'll tell her the Buu Saga was the peak of writing and pacing."

Marco spun on him. "Okay, first of all—"

Before the fanboy debate could detonate, the Glendale Police cruiser screeched into the lot and to a stop.

Out stepped Officers Hamdon and Wackerman—armed and geared up once again like they were storming Normandy. They were, once again, several set pieces late to the battle.

"Wait, AGAIN?!" Officer Hamdon barked. "How did you people beat us here?!"

Star raised her wand, face deadpan. "Magic."

After what happened at the golf course, she was more than ready to turn these guys into something both funny and insulting if they tried anything stupid.

Officer Wackerman eyed the melted frame of what used to be someone's car, then glanced around at the rest of the lot's damage.

"Hey, Boxter… they really did a number on this place."

"We had to," Star replied. "The Magnavores are really freaking strong. I'm not even sure blasting Typhus like I just did would kill him."

Officer Hamdon looked from the car to Star. "Wait… you did this?"

Star shrugged, holding her wand sheepishly. "I just said we had to."

Stingerborg stepped in. "We did it—and it was self-defense."

He gestured toward Sensei Brantley. "The Magnavores attacked the whole strip mall—especially this guy. It sucks that a car got wrecked, but… only a car got wrecked."

"And exactly eighty-three square feet of asphalt," Sensei Brantley added.

Marco did a double take, confused at such an arbitrary number. "Wait, exactly that?"

Just then, Elise's minivan zipped into the lot and screeched to a halt just shy of the scorched pavement. She hopped out and waved.

"Hey kids! You've been busy today!"

Star lit up. "Elise!"

Officer Hamdon turned. "Ma'am, this is an active crime scene—"

"And I am their active lawyer," Elise cut in sharply. "Or did you not get the memo? I sent a memo!"

Hamdon blinked. "Wait… have I seen you before?"

"Nope! Definitely not. Never. Nuh-uh." Elise breezed right past him to join Star, Marco, Drew, and Sensei Brantley. "Sensei Brantley, can you help me locate the car's owner and whoever runs this strip mall? Hyuuga Heavy Industries is ready to cover any damages Star can't fix."

Hamdon and Wackerman turned toward Star at the same time.

"…Can't fix?"

Star smiled and lifted her wand. "Don't worry. Easy fix."

Her cheek marks lit up once again, energy building in her eyes as she raised the wand high.

"SUPER CUTIE KITTEN CLUTTER CLEANERS!"

A burst of pink light erupted. Magical kittens in maid uniforms, hard hats, tool belts, trash vests, mechanic overalls—even tiny plumber hats—swept across the plaza like an adorable cleanup crew.

Wherever they passed, things were made better. Melted asphalt resurfaced. Broken windows and cracked walls restored. Even the destroyed car was gleaming and whole again, ready to be driven off a dealership lot.

"All done!" Star declared—then staggered slightly, blinking. "Whoaaa… okay, maybe I overdid it a little…"

"Star!" Marco rushed to her side and caught her gently. "You okay?"

"That spell's weirdly heavy when you Dip Down…" She mumbled.

"I'll say," Sensei Brantley remarked. "I think it rebuilt a whole Dodge Charger."

"And it's the third time I've used it today," Star added dreamily.

She had been to the golf course earlier, and Britta's Tacos had needed a lot of work done before that.

Officer Hamdon turned to Elise. "Ms…?"

"Dinkleman. Elise Dinkleman." She handed him a card.

Hamdon glanced at the card. Something about it felt off. "Right. Well, that still leaves the matter of this one—"

He pointed at Drew, "—and his metal friends violating both state and federal law."

Elise didn't even blink. "Well, some recent developments have been brought to my attention, and I have come to tell you that you cannot arrest any of the Beetleborgs."

Both officers paused, and stared at the fixer.

"Excuse me?" Hamdon asked.

Elise nodded. "Federal and California Peregrine Law includes a robust exception clause for the unwitting and/or involuntary use of any form of paranormal or superhuman abilities or technology. Ergo, people who end up with superpowers through unexpected or fantastic circumstances beyond their direct control."

Hamdon frowned, pulled a tiny pocketbook of California laws from his jacket, and flipped through it. "That's not—wait… hold on…"

He stopped, reading aloud.

"'Individuals subject to the application of superhuman abilities by mundane and/or supernatural means and forced into combat by unexpected or fantastic circumstances shall be exempt from prosecution…'" He muttered the case citation, then looked up. "You're saying these kids were forced to fight?"

Stingerborg nodded. "Uh… yeah, we didn't choose for the Magnavores to show up."

Marco nodded hesitantly. "It's true… and kinda messed."

Wackerman looked at Hamdon. "So what does that mean?"

Hamdon closed the booklet. "If they can prove it? Then yeah. This is self-defense under fantastic circumstances."

Sensei Brantley nodded solemnly. "Magical girls and armored heroes fighting monsters from another dimension, bro. Doesn't get more fantastic—or more radical—than that."

"I am pretty rad, huh?" Star asked.

"The raddest, bro."

Officer Hamdon looked conflicted. He studied Marco, Star, and the Blue Stingerborg with a more guarded—almost sympathetic—expression.

After a pause, he finally said, "Officer Wackerman, let's secure the scene and start taking statements."

"Sure thing," Wackerman replied, still unsure. "Lemme just grab my notepad from the car and—"

CRASH!

Typhus's body slammed into the roof of their police cruiser like a meteor, flattening it with a metallic crunch.

Everyone turned and stared in silence at the wrecked cruiser,

His body was almost entirely red and white, rapidly regenerating from the damage Star's attack had done.

"… Dang…" he muttered. "… I saw the curve of the planet with that one, baby."

And with a burst of flame, he vanished—leaving behind nothing but a ruined police vehicle and a fresh dose of stunned silence.

Elise turned to the teens. "Curve of the planet? How high did you blast him?"

Marco, expression blank but brain fully online, answered, "At least sixty thousand feet."

Star beamed. "That's a lot, right?"

"Eighteen point two-nine kilometers," Marco translated.

"Wow, that's a new personal best!"

Drew blinked at her, utterly thrown off that Star measured magical knockback heights in kilometers.

Did the medieval kingdom of Mewni use the metric system?

Did she track this sort of thing?

"… Huh," he said aloud.

Officer Hamdon, turned from the wreckage of his cruiser back to Star. "Hey… you wouldn't mind doing another one of those magical cat cleaner things on our—?"

"Actually!" Marco interrupted, whipping out the Dimensional Scissors. "We need to go. Star's been pushing her limits, and we're not sure if the bad guys are regrouping."

He opened a portal with a clean slash. "C'mon, Sting, we've got to go."

Stingerborg nodded and followed Star and Marco through the portal. It swirled shut behind them with a faint hum.

Officer Hamdon pushed his hat up, scratching at his thick, sweat-damp hair. "Crap…"

Officer Wackerman looked at his partner. "What is it?"

"If what they said is true… I kinda feel bad now."

Elise spoke softly, but firmly. "Then they need help. Not suspicion. Support."

Sensei Brantley nodded. "Yeah, bro. They need the police to have their back, not breathing down their necks."

A news van turned into the lot.

Elise caught sight of it, then turned to the officers. "Since my clients have left the scene, I'll link up with them and avoid interfering with official business."

She jogged to her minivan. "Sensei Brantley! You should get moving too, and don't talk to the press!"

Sliding into the van, she backed out smoothly to clear the way for the news crew. As the van turned toward Hillhurst Mansion, it picked up speed and disappeared down the street.

Wackerman ran a hand through his hair again. "Been a long day, Hamdon…"

"Yeah," Hamdon muttered, just as a reporter and cameraman climbed out of the van and began calling his name.

= - = 9-3 = - =​

Welp, Roland lost that bet. But, hey! Maybe now the police will leave our heroes alone...?

 

[The Ero-Sennin]

Why thank you~!

Boy, things are tense in 1899. It'd be a shame if an Outside Context Problem just... pulled up.

= - = 9-4 = - =

|Abomination|​

The day passed and night fell on Echo Creek, arc lamps flickering on as the horizon bled orange and violet. At the broken well, workers toiled ineffectually in a gradually widening pit with hammers, shovels, and picks.

Fatigue hung heavy in the air as Mr. Armberg lifted his fedora from his sweat-soaked brow. He had been in the mix with his boys since the afternoon to get whatever had broken the drill out of the way, and there was just no progress on that front.

"Hey, Renton," another man with a mustache and head of dark hair beneath his flat cap, said to Mr. Armberg as he came over. "You boys get home, Ms. Bonny's got us on it."

"You're a godsend, Jacobs" Mr. Armberg sighed, receiving a knowing nod from his relief in turn. "Hole's been gettin' wider, not deeper. We gotta blast it out, I reckon."

Mr. Jacobs didn't like the sound of that too much. "Dynamite? We'd need a posse to guard it with that maniac Hillhurst around. No telling what he'd do if he got ahold of some."

Mr. Armberg didn't share that view. "Nonsense, man's as clever as one of them Frisco intellectuals. If he wanted to blow up the town, he'd have done us all in a long time ago."

"Fair enough," Jacobs relented. "I'm fairly sure I saw Ms. Bonner headed towards the jail on my way over. You might still catch her if you go that way."

"I've already worked myself to the bone," Mr. Armberg said. "Asking her for dynamite tonight? I'll be lucky she doesn't explode!"

He rubbed his chin. "She wanted the obstacle gone, so let's leave the lady to her evening and break it out."

Down the road, Emily Blakesfield-Bonner's boots clicked on the boardwalk as she reached the jail beneath the harsh lantern light and strode in. Inside, she turned a sharp look at the Sheriff's deputy—who bowed and stepped back, keys jingling in his hand as he stepped back.

Glowering at the deputy, she took the keys from him without resistance, and approached the holding cell where Hutchinson and his men were all gathered.

Inside, six bruised figures beside Hutchinson were slumped against the walls—among them, Kelsey nursed his battered cheek, while Ivan eyed her with anxious dread.

Hutchinson himself, eyes glassed by morphine, came up to the bars and looked down at Emily with a sheepish, defeated expression. "Ms. Bonner…"

Gripping the cell's bars tight in her hands, she leaned in.

"You took six men to that snake's home and tried to kill him in broad daylight? I pay you for subtlety—not backroads thuggery."

Hutchinson's voice cracked as he spoke. "H-He took my gun… I-I just wanted it back… I wanted him gone."

Emily released a bar to brush a stray strand of hair from her face. "You could have just asked, and I'd have purchased you another. This could have been a monumental waste of life and time."

Her lips curled. "Do you realize what armed men under my employment dying on the property of a man known for defying me would create, Mr. Hutchinson?"

Hutchinson shrank where he stood, struggling to meet her gaze as she continued. "Scandal. Even if I could wash my hands of you, every paper in California would scream that I'm not above brute force to remove my enemies."

Hutchinson could barely bring himself to look at her. "I'm sorry, Ms. Bonner, I truly am."

Emily turned away from him. "You are all fortunate men. You have done far too much good work for me to simply see you discarded."

Stepping away from the cell, she spoke levelly. "Own your stupidity. I pay professionals, not the savages Hillhurst champions for."

One by one the men got up and gathered closer to the cell, as Hutchinson spoke. "We… we will, Ms. Bonner…"

Emily slowly looked back at him, her eyes narrow. With a flick of her wrist, she tossed the keys through the bars.

"Go home. Do not let me find out you've gone after Hillhurst without my express consent, or I will see to it neither you nor your families will see another cent for as long as any of you live."

Daring to not look at any of them for a moment more, Emily walked out of the jail. The deputy, seeing her leave, tipped his hat to her. "Ms. Bonner."

Emily looked at him, and nodded curtly before she continued on, with Hutchinson and his men filing out of the jailhouse one by one behind her.

Down the road, Harrison O'Durgeson locked the Post Office and, with a skip in his step and a tune to whistle, walked over to the adjacent saloon. Outside, an older Mexican man stood by the open doors to his establishment, watching the trails of dust kicked up by a late evening breeze.

"Hidalgo? Who's watching the regulars?" Harrison asked.

Hidalgo slowly shook his head. "Business is slow tonight. That drill break a few blocks over has some of my regulars working an extra shift."

He shook his head. "But it's been slow ever since those harpies descended upon me. Men are drinking at home, rather than here…"

Harrison grimaced and patted Hidalgo on the shoulder. "Damn shame, that. Hillhurst and I, we won't let that witch run you out of town."

"I hope not," Hidalgo lamented. "My cousin, Victor, was one of those bandidos who tried to rob the bank yesterday."

"You're lying," Harrison said, shocked.

This was grim news.

Hidalgo nodded. "Felt he had to—Hutchinson's boys killed the last cattle he had. I tried to give him some money so he and his wife could go up north… but he didn't want to take it from me."

Harrison shook his head. "He wasn't the bandido who pointed the gun at Ms. Bonny, was he?"

Hidalgo nodded, grimly.

"Fucking hell…"

This was so much worse.

"He's sure to swing for it, and Ms. Bonny has already begun working his relation to me into her protests."

The Saloon proprietor grunted in frustration. "I may as well take the family I have left and go up north myself. Frisco is a lot more tolerant of non-whites these days."

Harrison tightened his jaw. "I'm so sorry, man. It just doesn't get worse than that."

As he spoke, the column of Emily and her entourage filed past across the street from him. Spotting her, he could not hold back the venom in his voice.

"As usual, there is only justice in this world for the white man and the money that owns him."

Emily halted mid-step. The light of the lamp caught her eyes as she fixed him with a cold stare.

"Evening, Ms. Bonny!" Harrison sang, tipping his hat with sarcastic flourish.

Emily inclined her head once—an unspoken warning—and resumed her stride. Harrison answered with unspoken defiance and turned to walk the short distance over to Hidalgo's Saloon parallel to the procession's course.

Hutchinson glowered at Harrison, fist clenching. "You're no Hillhurst, Irish. You run your mouth like that further and you'll be on the street where the rest of your kind belong."

Silence fell, broken by the distant hum of the Arc Light.

"You're right, I'm no Hillhurst," Harrison drawled back, his moustache twitching, not the least bit intimidated. "I haven't the gentlemanly restraint of the lad to not knock a dog or his bitch."

Hutchinson's jaw clenched, and his eyes flashed with rage… when suddenly a strong gust of wind blasted down the main road of the town.

The gust knocked Emily sideways—only for Hutchinson's arm to catch her waist. Her boots scraped over the ground, but she managed to keep herself upright with his help. Around them, lanterns lighting the boardwalks flickered, while the boards themselves rattled beneath their feet.

The wind scoured the street, howling down the boardwalks lining it as it transformed into a sustained, rolling breeze driven by some unseen malice that stung skin where it struck.

Harrison's hand flew to his brim—only to have the wind rip it down over his eyes. Something was not right, no wind howled in like this that he knew of.

"Oh, there's something ill in the air." He said while squinting through the grit blasting his face.

Hidalgo saw it first. He pointed down the road. "Harrison… look there!"

A hulking shape loomed at the far end of Main Street, seven feet tall, chest as broad as a wagon wheel, sunken yellow eyes flicking side to side. His great muscles rippled and twitched as he walked with slow, thunderous purpose down the road. His every footstep seemed to displace the air and shake the Earth.

Hutchinson brought Emily behind him, and the rest of his men fanned out as the creature stepped closer.

"The hell is that thing?" He demanded.

Seeing the men stepping into the wind-whipped street, the creature halted and glowered at them. Then, it flew into a rage with a long scream of fury and madness that chilled the blood of all within earshot.

@@@@@​

In the kitchen of Hillhurst's mansion, Teodoro appraised the .45 Caliber cartridges that Dr. Hillhurst finished putting together for him. The melted down silver felt slightly warm to the touch, but formed in a different way than he was used to. Rather than smoothed and round like the normal 45. Cartridges he was used to, these were flat-headed.

"Is there a reason they're flat?" He asked as he turned the bullet over in his hand.

Dr. Hillhurst was preparing dinner with the long day's work behind them.

"Better stopping power," he explained. "When they strike, they expand and stop inside the target, dealing more damage."

The young man's eyebrows rose. "Oh, then that is very good. I'll take it."

Dr. Hillhurst turned to him. "About that rifle of yours, do you need any ammunition for that?"

Teodoro shook his head. "I have more than enough ammunition for it, don't worry."

He began loading his revolver with the cartridges, as he asked, "What will you do if those men return?"

Dr. Hillhurst sighed. "I'll give SheHaw a call on the telephone and she'll come hopefully before any harm is done."

Teodoro was surprised. "You have a telephone?"

"Of course I do!" Dr. Hillhurst said before he turned his nose up smugly. "My home has all the most modern amenities. Septic tank, water purification, ice box, everything a modern house has and some things that a modern home does not!"

"… Septic tank?" Teodoro asked.

Dr. Hillhurst stopped. "… For the indoor toilet."

The young man's eyes widened. "You have one of those, too?!"

Dr. Hillhurst turned to face him. "Ted, my good man, where have you been going since you got here?"

Now Teodoro looked embarrassed. "Ehh… the trees behind the shed."

Dr. Hillhurst palmed his face. "No, don't… don't be embarrassed, that's on me. I didn't tell you about it until now. Just… next time you're in the house, go upstairs, take a left and the washroom will be there. There's a shower inside, as well."

Teodoro was mesmerized. "… A shower on the second floor…"

Dr. Hillhurst felt like boasting again. "With hot running water!"

"… Are you a man from the future, Doctor?"

And there it was, exactly what Dr. Aloysius Hillhurst wanted to hear. "No, just a man who thinks like one!"

A strong wind kicked up at that very moment, causing the trees outside of Hillhurst's Mansion to sway as it whistled through the branches, and the entire house to shudder ominously. Hearing that, and a weathervane atop his home creaking loudly as it turned with the wind, Dr. Hillhurst was surprised.

"How odd, the wind kicking up like that…" He trailed off when he saw a strange, startling expression on Teodoro's face.

He was first pale with surprise, but then an intense and terrific anger twisted his face as he turned towards the kitchen door.

"… They're here."

Dr. Hillhurst got up from his smithing bench. "… Who's here, Ted?"

He realized as soon as he asked. "The monsters you're hunting?"

Teodoro nodded grimly. "Every time I have encountered them, a wind like this would blow. A gale from the direction they're in!"

Teodoro holstered his revolver swiftly. "We need to go now, Doctor!"

Dr. Hillhurst turned off the fire under his food. "Of course, but we won't make it there in any good time on my bike."

Teodoro looked at him, anxious. "Do you have any horses?"

"No, I should never be responsible for another living animal," the "Doctor" admitted. "I do have something else though, I just ask you to keep an open mind."

Teodoro was once more left wondering what he meant by that, but the urgency of the situation precluded any other concern.

@@@@@​

The day had been rough, but the evening held promise for SheHaw.

The vigilante in pink was perched where she normally was during the long nights in Echo Creek, atop the most central of the town's Carbon Arc lamps, using its height and brightness to be on the lookout for any unseemly activity. She was especially watchful for any move from Emily Blakesfield-Bonner or her cronies, but all that seemed to stand out was a rare night shift at a broken Oil Exploration.

"That's not right," she muttered. "Those crews are never out this late."

Her gut clenched as she zeroed in on the worksite. "… No… it can't be…"

A gust of wind threw her balance for a moment—but before she could react, a bellowing roar shattered the night.

Followed by a more familiar woman's shriek.

Startled, SheHaw looked around for the source of the scream before a sixth sense screamed at her to look towards the direction of the Post Office.

Searching the town below, she caught sight of Emily stumbling backward from a brawl in the middle of the street between Hutchinson's men and something tossing them about like they were made of straw and tinder.

"What in the Sam Hill…?!" She blurted, eyes widening as the thing hoisted Hutchinson by the neck, lifting him clean off his feet.

No more words. No hesitation. She sprinted to the edge of the Arc Lamp Tower and leapt, not straight down, but up, tracing a long, graceful arc through the night sky.

Her hand clamped firmly over her hat as she hurtled earthward, a streak of pink cutting through the darkness…

… A missile aimed squarely at her target.

Below her, the abomination gripped the flailing Hutchinson by the neck, dragging him in close—then let out a deafening, guttural scream straight into his face. Hot breath and flecks of spit rained down on the man as he struggled, choking and clawing in vain for air, for freedom—anything.

Behind him, Emily collapsed onto her backside, pale as a sheet as she looked around at the other six men. They had all been knocked aside like they did not exist at all to the abomination, some moved but others were frighteningly still after the severity of the blows that struck them.

As she focused on the monster, she saw the muscles of the creature's arm flex as he lifted Hutchinson higher—as if to break his neck in his grip.

"N-no…!" She gasped out in horror.

Before the sickening crunch of bone could split the air—

WHAM!

SheHaw's flying drop kick connected straight and true with the man-thing. The impact sent the creature tumbling, heels over head, down the center of the road.

Hutchinson dropped like a sack of grain, coughing and wheezing as he hit the ground.

"SheHaw!" Harrison called out as he and Hidalgo cowered inside of the Saloon. "What in the world is that thing?"

SheHaw drew one of her whips. "Something y'all need to stay far the hell away from!"

With a crack of the whip, she ran at the monster. "Get them inside, barricade the doors, and kill the light, Harry!"

The creature was already getting up to its feet as SheHaw reached it, and as she looked at its shirtless, overly muscled form, she recoiled in disgust. It looked human, but on closer inspection she realized that was a misshapen abomination made of different human body-parts crudely stitched and stapled together into something that only looked like a man.

It was a massive, broad-shouldered, thick-necked, and wild-haired man—with a face just human enough to be wrong. He radiated raw, bestial power—the same strength he had used to batter Hutchinson and his men like ragdolls. Worse, he had taken her drop kick full on and barely flinched.

"All right, big boy," she said to the Abomination as she cracked her whip once more.

"Let's get on with it, then!"

The Abomination roared in response, and was swiftly struck across the left side of his face with the whip, and then even faster across the right on the return stroke.

"What kind of beast are you?" she spat, whipping the cord around his neck and yanking him in close.

With a swift pivot, she drove a high kick into the side of his head, sending him spinning away—freeing him from the whip's grasp. "Some kind of Frankenstein's monster?!"

She coiled the whip smoothly, but the creature caught himself and dropped low, scrambling on all fours towards her like an animal.

He reached her—faster than she expected—and swung his massive left arm. SheHaw raised her right arm to block, absorbing the blow, but the rest of his body slammed into her like a battering ram.

The vigilante went flying, crashing through a row of oil derricks. Wood shattered and splintered around her as the towering structures collapsed under the force.

A safe distance away from the brawl, the oil workers at the broken drill turned towards the sound of the wild racket several blocks over.

Dazed, SheHaw leaned against the corner of a broken beam, brushing wood chips from the side of her head.

"Getting struck by a locomotive was softer…!"

She spotted the Abomination hurtling toward her in a ballistic arc, arms raised high. She dove aside just as he slammed into the ground with thunderous force. His fists obliterated the remaining derrick—and the pump attached to it.

A rumble erupted as the ruptured well spewed oil into the air, thick and volatile.

SheHaw rolled to her feet, ducking another swipe as the creature lunged again. He roared, swinging madly—until she drove an uppercut into his chin that lifted him clean off the ground and flat on his back.

"You're big and strong…!"

He kicked his legs to spring up—but she was faster. Her whip lashed around his ankles and with a hard yank, she swung him through the air like a living wrecking ball, smashing him through derricks and pumps like matchsticks.

"But you're not too quick, are you?!"

The Abomination, tangled in more debris snarled and grabbed at the whip. Grabbing it, he tried to pull her in.

She let go, and the handle smacked into his face.

"What did I tell you?!" She barked, already drawing her second whip.

With a downward arc, she struck him like a hammer, splintering the wreckage and bouncing his body off the ground.

Then with a snap she caught him across the waist. Like a fisherman casting her line, SheHaw swung the Abomination around and around—once, then twice—and then up to bring down onto the gushing oil well head first.

BOOM!

A column of fire erupted skyward, swallowing the creature in a roaring explosion that lit the evening sky.

Coiling the whip, SheHaw holstered it as the broken well burned violently. "Whoever read that book, forgot the part where Frankenstein made that damn thing to be actually intelligent."

The Abomination leaped out of the flames and landed in front of SheHaw, engulfed from head to toe in flame. SheHaw stepped back, surprised.

"There is something to be said of building for strength," she conceded.

Throwing her arms up, she crossed them in front of her face to block the burning right-handed punch he aimed for her face.

WHAM!

The blazing left uppercut that immediately followed took her by surprise as it connected with her jaw.

BAM!

And then came the right hook into the side of her head.

KABOOM!

Fire and force launched her in a blazing arc over Hidalgo's Saloon. She crashed down hard in the center of the road.

"SheHaw!" Harrison shouted. "You all right, lass?!"

Still smoking, SheHaw rolled frantically to put out the flames. "Ahm fine, don't worry…!"

Dizzy, coughing, she staggered upright—only to spot her hat on the ground a few feet away.

"Aw, shoot..." she groaned, reaching up to touch her head.

She turned toward the saloon's dark windows and saw the damage.

Her carefully styled hair was now a scorched, tangled disaster.

"AW SHOOT!"

The Abomination—still wreathed in flame—strode back into the street, embers trailing from his shoulders. He locked eyes with SheHaw.

Calmly, her gaze not leaving his, she stooped and retrieved her hat. Still watching him, she produced the small comb she used to down Emmett earlier.

"Hey there, big guy," she said, smoothing out her singed bangs. "Mind granting a lady a moment to tend to her hair? It's a bit mussed."

The Abomination roared in reply—raw, furious, and thoroughly uninterested in etiquette.

SheHaw gasped in mock outrage. "Well, I never!"

Neither expected something to answer the beast's challenge.

A monstrous sound, deeper and louder than the creature's roar, rolled through the night like thunder tearing open the sky.

The Abomination froze, turning his head just as a blinding pair of carbon-arc headlights flared to life—pinning him in their merciless glare.

He howled, shielding his eyes, staggering back from the light.

SheHaw turned toward the source, squinting. Down the dirt road from the direction of Hillhurst came something—and it wasn't subtle.

It was a machine, long and low, riding just high enough to clear the road's dust and rock. It rode on four wheels with wide, ground-gripping tyres, fenders curled like fins, and a sleek, streamlined body built for speed and menace. Exhaust pipes jutted from the roaring front-mounted engine, trailing black smoke as it thundered toward them—faster than any bicycle, faster than any horse.

A chariot made of steel and fire. Painted a regal dark violet.

SheHaw tilted her head to one side, in disbelief at what she was seeing, as the vehicle came to a dramatic halt, fishtailing before it stopped just over three of its own length away from the creature.

In the driver's seat of his vehicle, a panting and near delirious Dr. Hillhurst let out a laugh as he gripped the steering wheel in his left hand, and a hand brake lever gripped in his right.

"Well! That was a successful test drive!"

He looked ahead at the man on fire staring at the car. "And there goes my excitement."

The roar of the vehicle's engine drew Harrison and Hidalgo to its doors, not barred with various pieces of furniture and a piano. Peeking through the gaps, they all stared at the vehicle in disbelief before Harrison called out.

"Al, is that you?!" He called out.

Dr. Hillhurst called back. "Yes, I brought The Knife out, because I don't have a bicycle built for two!"

"That's the Knife?! You said it was a runabout!"

"It is a runabout!"

"It looks like it could pull a damn express by itself!"

Dr. Hillhurst cackled. "Yes, it quite likely could!"

The Abomination let out a furious roar, clearly no more fond of The Knife than anything else.

"You'll have to excuse us, Harrison! We have to deal with this!"

Harrison caught that. "… Us? We?"

At that moment the opposite door of the car opened, and Teodoro stepped out in a smooth, deliberate stride.

His revolver was already drawn.

His eyes burned hotter than the fire still licking at the Abomination's shoulders.

And the creature, seeing him, staggered back.

He was afraid.

"Come on, then…" The young man growled as he cocked the hammer of the weapon, then aimed it at him.

"Come on, then! I know you remember me!"

Yes, he did. With a near hysterical roar, he stormed towards Teodoro, forgetting everything else.

Behind the monster, SheHaw rapidly combed her hair, trying to return it back to its normal style.

"Ted!" She shouted. "Don't go near that thing, it's—!"

BANG!

Teodoro fired. The shot struck the Abomination square in the chest. He stumbled to a halt—five paces short of him.

For a moment, the creature blinked, confused. Then he looked down at the smoking hole in his chest…

And screamed.

"I see," Teodoro muttered. "The bullets flatten inside the body… and they stay there."

He smiled. "I like that."

BANG. BANG. BANG.

Three more shots slammed into the creature—each one tearing a scream from its throat.

"And you hate it, don't you?!"

The monster cowered from Teodoro and his weapon—only to be shot twice more, both rounds slamming into its legs.

He collapsed, shrieking, thrashing on the ground. The flames around his body were nothing compared to the fire burning within.

SheHaw, finished taming her hair, stared in stunned silence.

The seemingly unstoppable creature curled into the fetal position, wailing like a wounded animal.

Dr. Hillhurst stepped out of The Knife, his face grim as he watched the man-thing writhe in the dirt.

"What did you do?" SheHaw asked quietly. "What'd you shoot him with?"

Teodoro flipped open the loading gate of his revolver and began smoothly ejecting the spent casings.

"Silver."

One by one, the empty shells clinked to the ground. Without pause, he reloaded, each motion efficient, practiced.

"It's the only thing that hurts these monsters."

He holstered the weapon. "But even that won't kill it."

Dr. Hillhurst joined him and SheHaw, glancing between the scorched thing and Teodoro. "It won't?"

"It heals from everything. My bullets used to go clean through—it'd just stitch itself back together."

He looked down at the creature, satisfied. "This time… they're stuck inside."

SheHaw knelt for a better look. The wounds were sealing—but slowly. "So even if it heals…"

"… The bullets stay inside. Still burning," Teodoro finished.

He gave a respectful nod to Hillhurst. "I owe you even more now."

SheHaw stood. "So… how do we end this? Fire don't work. I hit it with everything I had—it didn't flinch."

"We could bury it," Teodoro said, "but it'll dig out. Eventually."

Hillhurst hummed, rubbing his chin. "I may have an idea."

They both looked at him as he continued. "It's very risky, but I may know a way to get rid of him."

He turned to SheHaw. "Do you have something that can secure him? We can take him back to the mansion and I'll—"

"ALOYSIUS HILLHURST!"

At Emily's scream, Dr. Hillhurst raised a finger in protest. "DOCTOR, Ms. Bonner!"

Hands holding up the front of her dress so she didn't trip over herself, Emily stormed over to the three gathered around the still writhing monster. "I demand an explanation! What is that?!"

She gestured to the monster, then to his vehicle. "What is that?!"

From the vehicle, she gestured to Teodoro. "And what is THAT?!"

Teodoro reached for his Mauser.

"Man, don't," Dr. Hillhurst advised.

Teodoro complied, but only out of respect.

Hillhurst gestured smoothly. "A vile creature, currently restrained."

He pointed to Teodoro. "A heroic young man who knows how to handle such monsters."

He patted The Knife. "And a modest little project I've been working on since moving in. Isn't she beautiful? I'm honestly amazed I find time for it, what with being constantly interrupted by you."

He turned his attention back to SheHaw, who had—somehow—produced a thick coil of rope and was expertly binding the creature. Arms behind its back. Legs bent and secured to its wrists. The kind of restraint that made even superhuman strength useless.

"Goodness, where does a lady learn such a technique?"

"I toured with Buffalo Bill Cody from when I was a little girl up till five years back," SheHaw declared, tightening a knot. "Learned everything from him!"

Emily spun, fists clenched. "Hillhurst!"

"I'm envious," he mused, eyes still on SheHaw's work. "You're far more traveled than I am."

He glanced back at Emily. "Doctor."

SheHaw whistled sharply. "Sheila! Get over here, girl!"

Her horse galloped up obediently, and SheHaw began securing a dragline to haul the now-restrained Abomination behind her.

Emily was incandescent now. "HILLHURST!"

He turned at last, exasperated. "Doctor! And I've explained what's going on, Ms. Blakesfield-Bonner. What more do you want? Restitution? For this?"

He gestured broadly to the damaged derricks and fires. "I just got here! Or are you simply furious that your oh-so-valuable life was saved by the town vigilante, myself, and a Mexican?"

A smile burst across his face. He tipped his hat low.

"Well, if that's the case—you're welcome."

He turned toward the saloon, lifting his hat to the crowd. "Don't worry, fine folks! We'll have this mess sorted out in no time!"

Harrison leaned out through the barricade. "You're a madman, Doc! Next time you come to town, it better be in that absurd contraption!"

"Of course, friend!"

Hillhurst clapped a hand on Teodoro's shoulder. "Let's be on our way."

Teodoro cast one last look at Emily—a slow shake of the head, all disgust and disappointment—before turning away and following Dr. Hillhurst back to the vehicle.

Climbing into the driver's seat, Hillhurst flipped a few levers. The engine coughed, roared, and The Knife backed away in reverse. With a smooth spin of the wheel and a few more mechanical flourishes, the machine turned on a dime—then tore off in the direction it had originally come from, dust and smoke trailing behind like a comet's tail.

Behind them, SheHaw gave Sheila a firm pat and clicked her tongue. "Let's ride, girl."

The horse burst into a gallop, the bound Abomination dragging behind her as she chased after the streaking machine, both disappearing into the night beyond Echo Creek.

In the night sky above, a swarm of bats followed the horse and auto, before diverting away into the night.

= - = 9-4 = - =​

Oh.

 

[The Ero-Sennin]

In the present day, let's check on the ongoing situation with the Magnavores.

= - = 9-5 = - =

|The Fallen|​

"Good evening. I'm Brian Smirk, and this is day ten of what many are calling the 'Echo Creek Crisis'—a week and a half of escalating urban conflict between a bizarre gang claiming to be—or styled after—the villains from the comic book series Big Bad Beetleborgs… and a group of teenagers with attitude."

On the screen of a handheld phone, a news anchor with a perfectly-gelled black pompadour and dressed in a sharp two-piece black suit reported on the crisis at hand.

"For the past week, local law enforcement has been utterly helpless in their attempts to apprehend or even slow the so-called 'Magnavores.' Police have consistently arrived minutes too late to make a meaningful difference—let alone protect or serve the public."

Though his tone was bright and showy, perfect for the evening news, there was an inescapable edge of sarcasm and excellently veiled contempt.

Sitting near the middle of a LA Metro bus running its route through Glendale, California, a girl with dark-gray hair pulled into a high ponytail, wearing an indigo skirt and matching checkered sweater vest stared intently into her phone as she listened to the anchorman through a wireless earbud in her left ear to keep aware of her stop with her uncovered right.

"Meanwhile, teenagers fighting these villains have been able to handily protect the public while serving beatdowns on the bad guys in ways that only SheZow could manage. They are on that Kim Possible grind, and if this reporter may say? They are looking just as fantastic doing it. Take a look at this!"

The screen cut to shaky cellphone footage from inside a bowling alley. Noxic jabbed menacingly at Jackie Lynn Thomas with his umbrella in front of the lanes as patrons either fled or tossed bowling balls at his accompanying Scabs.

Jackie smartly parried his stabs with her spear, and even got in a few thrusts of her own that Noxic had to back up from and duck under repeatedly.

Then, from outside the camera's view, Marco Diaz sprinted in and launched into a high-flying kick that smashed into the side of Noxic's head.

Knocked off his feet, Noxic slid down the bowling lane next to him and crashed into the pins standing at the end.

A strike.

The news anchor then cut in. "Did you see that kick, folks? Let's run that again in slow motion."

The footage rewound, then replayed in eighth-speed. Marco's kick connected again, showing how Noxic's face warped into distress as the shock of the hit rippled across it. After two seconds it snapped back to normal speed and off went Noxic to score a strike.

When the camera cut back to the newsroom, Smirk wore a dry grin. "That loser got rocked."

He turned to another camera as the feed switched to it. "And perhaps more impressive, as of this broadcast—despite the widespread destruction and injuries—there have been no fatalities reported. While there have been injuries, none have been serious, and not one innocent bystander has lost their life, thanks to these young heroes' rapid responses and despite the ferocity of these confrontations. Just have a look at this!"

Another clip played: In a used car dealership lot, Typhus hoisted a compact electric car above his head and hurled it at Star Butterfly.

Star raised her wand and transformed the vehicle into a swarm of butterflies, fluffy bunnies, and rainbow confetti. In the same instant, the Red Strikerborg dashed into frame, charging Typhus.

Typhus swung with his monstrous claw to knock Strikerborg down, but she swung back back to meet his fist with hers. The impact created a shockwave that flipped several nearby cars and shattered every window in sight—including the dealership's.

"Authorities confirm," Smirk continued, "that all civilians were safely evacuated prior—and yes, all of that damage was later repaired. In fact, most of the destruction caused in these bizarre battles has been magically restored by one of the group's most powerful members: Princess Star Butterfly."

He turned slightly toward another camera, flashing his smile again.

"I don't know what she's the princess of, but according to a viewer poll conducted earlier this afternoon, she might as well be the Queen of L.A., with viewer poll approval climbing faster than the property damage."

The girl's hazel eyes softened at the anchorman's praise of the teenage heroes fighting in the next town over. Her expression turned somber—reflective.

"With all this chaos going on, and law enforcement being worse than useless," Brian continued, "this reporter can only ask one question: Where are you, SheZow? These kids could really use your help right now."

The girl sighed. As the bus slowed, she looked up and spotted her stop ahead.

"Thanks for being one of the good guys, Brian," she murmured, stopping the video and tugging the signal cord overhead.

Stepping off the bus and onto the quiet Glendale sidewalk, Kelly Deonne Hamdon wished she could tell the deceptively-angry anchorman the truth.

Glendale's great Glamazon guardian. Los Angeles's legendary local lady hero. She was believed lost, exiled, or worse—silenced by the very injustice she fought for so long.

But SheZow wasn't gone.

Not even close.

Kelly knew exactly where "she" was.

She walked the familiar path from the street to her brown wood-paneled, three-story middle-class home. As she approached, she noticed two departing delivery men waving goodbye to her mother on the front porch—a vibrant red-haired woman wearing a pink leopard print shirt and white pants.

"Thanks again, boys! I'm sorry you had to make the trip with everything going on. Be safe out there, okay?"

"We will, Mrs. Hamdon!" One of the delivery men called out.

"Please, call me Droosha!" She replied brightly—just as Kelly reached the steps.

"Kelly! Great news—the new TV finally arrived!"

Kelly smiled. "Really? That's awesome. Maybe Guy will finally come out of his room to watch it."

Droosha's vibrance dimmed just a little at that. It was quick, but enough for Kelly to notice.

"I was joking," Kelly said gently. "Is… is he still in there?"

"He came out earlier this morning for lunch, he even spoke to me for a few minutes…" Droosha explained, before her tone fell slightly. "… But then he just ran up to his room and shut the door."

"Do you know what set him off?" Kelly asked.

Droosha shook her head, hands clasping at her chest in a familiar motion of worry and helplessness. "I don't even know what I said…"

Kelly sighed softly. "Want me to go talk to him?"

Droosha looked up with relief. "Please?"

Kelly nodded and walked into her home, furnished in such an eclectic fashion that only an artistically expressive type like Droosha could manage. Walking past the tiger print couch that dominated the living room, Kelly made her way upstairs and took a right to walk up to a bedroom door covered in warnings.

The signs ranged from large stop signs, quirky danger notices advising of angsty, perpetually hungry teens beyond this point, and a pride-rainbow colored hand held in a halt gesture.

Ignoring the signs like she couldn't read them, Kelly knocked on the door and began to open it. "Guy, it's me, Kelly. Whether you're decent or not, I'm coming in."

A voice shot back. "Don't you dare, I'm not…"

She ignored that, and stepped inside, closing the door behind her. Lying face-down on his full-sized bed, her hazel-eyed, black with brown streaks-haired younger twin brother lifted his face from his pillow and glared at her. Guy Hamdon reached for his pillow.

"… In the mood!" He shouted as he threw it at her.

She snatched it from the air effortlessly. "Let me guess: you were having lunch with Mom, your She-SP went off, and now you've been sulking in here for hours?"

Guy glowered. "I just turned back. If you barged in like five minutes sooner with Mom behind you, it'd be game over."

"Well, I didn't." She casually tossed the pillow back at him. "But this can't keep happening. Sooner or later Mom and Dad are gonna stop thinking this is just teenage moodiness. You've already missed, what—three weeks of school?"

"More like a month," he muttered.

"And it's senior year, Guy. If you want to get into a decent college, you kind of have to show up."

"Oh yeah, sure, just show up," Guy snapped. "And then when a monster attacks the next town over in the middle of class, I transform into the world's strongest transvestite."

He turned his head away from her. "No thanks. I'll take the L and get my GED."

Kelly crossed her arms. "Or… you could stop turning your nose up to it and help. Then you won't be ambushed by it every time someone tries to flatten a strip mall."

Guy groaned again and buried his face into his mattress. "I'm not turning my nose up at it, Kells! I just want to stay out of the way. And get control of this."

An intense feeling of alarm rang in his head and a jolt of power suddenly swept through him.

Guy, defeated, sighed.

"I transformed again, didn't I?"

Kelly raised an eyebrow. "Yep."

Guy turned over and sat up to look at the full-length mirror next to his bedroom closet—and groaned again.

Instead of a sullen young man in a dark blue hoodie and tan pants, a fabulous lady in a hot-pink leopard print bodysuit beneath a dark pink miniskirt, rose-colored corset with white trim emblazoned with a silver S, pink elbow length gloves, and white thigh-length high-heeled boots.

Guy's face was similarly dolled up, with rose-pink blush, pink eyeshadow, long, perfectly brushed eyelashes, and a beauty mark under the corner of her right eye. Even his hair was changed, now waist length and shiny black, with a pink streak above his forehead to the right.

Much like Princess Marco, one wouldn't even think they were looking at a young man at first or second glance.

Staring at himself, Guy, or rather SheZow, threw his hands up.

"Oh, come on! I just turned back!"

Kelly pulled out her phone, and began swiping through her social media. "Yep, there's another fight breaking out in front of Echo Creek's city hall. It looks like it's Typhus and Noxic together this time."

Kelly lowered her phone. "Are you really going to just sit here and do nothing? Just hide and hope it all goes away?"

"I'm not hiding," SheZow snapped. His voice had that frustrated edge again—not loud, just brittle.

He turned and climbed off the bed to sit on the far side, putting it between them and turning his back to her.

"I'm done. Tara made it clear. Dad made it clear. SheZow should never show her face again."

Kelly opened her mouth to argue—then paused, her voice softening.

"Guy…"

He rolled his eyes up toward the ceiling, then closed them.

"She-yeah."

In a muted flash, SheZow was gone, and he was Guy again, slouched in his hoodie, hair tousled and dull.

"I get it," Kelly continued. "Dad said some pretty heavy things. But if he knew…"

"If he knew I was SheZow?" Guy interrupted, his voice low and flat. "No. That's the one thing he can never know."

He lowered his head.

"Dad hates SheZow, and if he finds out the truth, then I can never be his son again."

He clenched his hands into fists on his knees.

"Because I've been lying to him… this whole time."

Kelly exhaled slowly. Her heart ached—not just for him, but for how stupidly complicated it all was.

It would be easier if Guy and their dad had a toxic relationship. If their dad were some hardline jerk who'd disowned them years ago.

But that wasn't the case.

A sudden knock on the door made both twins jump.

"Hey, Kelly? Guy?" their father's voice—steady, but raised just enough to carry through the door's thick wood—called. "Can I come in?"

Kelly looked at Guy in surprise.

Guy jolted upright, panic flashing in his eyes.

He was supposed to be on patrol, both thought.

"Uhh—Dad? Now's not a great time! We're just, uh… talking school stuff!"

There was a pause. Then came Boxter Hamdon's voice again—softer this time, but strained.
"Your mother called. Said you weren't feeling well. I came home to check on you."

He paused, before asking with a voice of genuine, fatherly concern.

"… How're you feeling, son?"

Guy hesitated. Then sighed.

"I'm alive. Feeling, uh… I don't know. Anxious? Sad?"

Another pause. The silence stretched.

"I see…" Boxter said. His voice was lower now, weighted, like he was choosing every word with care. "If you want to talk… I'll be downstairs for a little bit."

"Yeah. Thanks, Dad."

They both listened to the footsteps retreat down the stairs.

Kelly shook her head. "You really think he'd hate you?"

"Yeah," Guy said quietly.

The worst part was… Kelly couldn't argue.

Guy loved his Dad, so did Kelly. Despite his profession, and all that came with it, they both knew he was a good father who loved them, too.

After all, he left his shift and came straight home just to check on Guy.

With a sigh, Kelly rounded the bed and sat beside her brother. She put an arm around him, pulling him into a hug.

"You know what?" She said softly. "I'm not even sure you're wrong."

Guy didn't look at her.

"Remember how happy Dad was when SheZow disappeared?" He asked.

"Real talk? It's been great that we can hang out and do father and son stuff without him complaining about her. No speeches. No jealousy. No yelling about 'that menace.'"

"Yeah, it's quieter," Kelly agreed. "But… is it okay if you're not happy? Or if Tara's basically taken over Glendale and struts around like she's Earth's Mightiest Hero?"

Guy grimaced and looked away from her. "Was I happy being a guy forced to pretend to be a superheroine just to deal with Great Aunt Agnes' leftover baggage? Was I happy dropping everything to fight some monster, rando, or washed-up hero with a complex?"

His voice cracked a little.

"Was I happy listening to Dad rant about how much he hated me… right to my face?"

Kelly flinched. She opened her mouth to respond—but stopped.

Guy stared at the floor. "All the powers in the world don't make up for that. Especially not when I had to lie to him every day."

He held up his right hand. The ring gleamed faintly on his finger.

"If I could take this off and give it to you instead, I would," he muttered. "You probably wouldn't have gotten your butt kicked nearly as much as I did."

His hand dropped into his lap.

"I don't even know what I'm gonna do if this keeps happening," he continued. "What if I transform in front of Mom or Dad?"

As if the universe had a punchline queued up, the ring lit up—and with a familiar pink flash, Guy was SheZow again.

"Oh, come on! That one was out of spite!"

Still glowing faintly, he groaned. "I'm telling you, if SheZow comes back now, everything's gonna spiral."

Kelly frowned, conceding silently. There really was no easy fix. They both loved their Dad—deeply, and that made this all so much worse.

She checked her phone—and blinked.

"Huh. The fight's over."

SheZow turned. "What?"

"It's over." She held up her screen. The footage showed Red Strikerborg delivering a Tornado Spark to Typhus while Blue Stingerborg and Green Hunterborg tag-teamed Noxic, slicing him in half mid-air.

The villains vanished in flame, leaving the Beetleborgs standing victorious.

Kelly squinted. "So then… why are you transforming after the fight?"

SheZow frowned. "That's actually… really weird."

Kelly's brow furrowed. "Okay, I think we need to reactivate Sheila to…"

SheZow panicked, grabbing her arm. "Do not turn Sheila back on! I turned her off for a reason! You have no idea how she-enraged she'll be if she finds out it's been five years and I quit!"

Kelly stared blankly. Then snorted. "Did you just do a she-pun?"

SheZow groaned, letting go to clutch both sides of his head. "Ugh! I've been transforming too much!"

Kelly smirked. "At least you haven't used that awful falsetto voice like back when you were twelve."

"I don't think I could do that now if I had to."

Kelly got up from the bed. "Well, if reactivating Sheila isn't a good idea, then I'm going to find out on my own."

SheZow did a double-take. "Wait, you're not planning on going there, are you?"

Kelly rose from the bed. "Well, waking Sheila's a no-go, and you can't risk becoming SheZow in public. So yeah—I don't have much of a choice."

Despite himself, SheZow stood. "No way. You are not walking into the monster mash on your own."

Kelly turned to face him, gripping his shoulders. "As much as I want you to put the cape back on, I get it. I won't force you."

SheZow crossed his arms. "Yeah? Well putting yourself in harm's way is definitely forcing me to."

"I'll be fine," Kelly said, trying to reassure her brother. "If I need protection out there, I'll just ask Maz to go with me."

SheZow's expression shifted—concern freezing over into irritation.

"Oh. In that case? Have fun."

Kelly let out a slow, exasperated sigh and let go of him.

"You know, he's been really—"

"I don't care," SheZow cut in, his voice cold. Flat. Icy enough to push her back

Kelly hesitated, then sighed again—this time with regret. She rose to her feet.

"I get that you two aren't friends anymore," she said gently, "but he really has changed. If you just gave him a…"

"I said I don't care."

That stopped her.

She nodded. "Sorry for bringing him up. That's on me."

Kelly stepped toward the door. "And… I won't push you to change your mind. But if you do… I'll let you know when I head out."

With that, she slipped through the doorway and closed the door behind her.

Her footsteps retreated quietly down the hall.

Alone again, SheZow collapsed onto his back with a groan and stared at the ceiling, his breath leaking out in a long, tired sigh.

"She-Yeah."

@@@@@​

"Five days of this crap!" Hunterborg snapped as he, Stingerborg, and Strikerborg swept their Input Magnums across the flames in extinguisher mode, putting out the last of the fires from the latest attack. "This is getting on my one last nerve, twin."

They stood in the circular parking area in front of Echo Creek's City Hall—a historic structure of white stone walls and a red-tiled roof, crowned at the center by a tall dome and spire above the west-facing main entrance. Thanks to a swift police evacuation, there were no civilian casualties this time—unlike some of the earlier battles.

Drew exhaled. "Can't argue. But it's been the same attacks all week. Just Typhus and Noxic, over and over. Makes me wonder where Barla and Jara are."

That reminded Roland of his lost bet with Mabel, she still hasn't said what the penalty was.

"If this was supposed to wear us down, it's a dumb plan," Jo said as she vented another line of foam. "They've basically been sparring partners—and not great ones."

"That's what I been sayin'," Roland complained.

"It's weird," Drew muttered. "They bailed this time before we really put the paws on them."

Roland raised an eyebrow. "We did cut Noxic in half, twin."

"Like that'll stop him."

"… Aight, true."

Drew nodded grimly. "And Typhus still wasn't completely healed from last time; you notice that?"

"I did," Roland confirmed. "Even they're starting to crack."

Jo paused, watching her flames die out. "Think they're testing how long they can keep the tempo up?"

That gave Drew pause. "Maybe… or maybe they're just buying time for something else."

Roland frowned. "Which means we're dancing to their rhythm."

"Whatever the case, the last fire's out." Drew tapped his communicator. "Misao, we're wrapping up here."

"Ja, where would you like to go?" Misao replied.

"My break is almost over," Roland muttered. "Can we get back to Zoom?"

Drew was about to reply when movement caught his eye—someone descending the broad front steps of City Hall. He turned and instantly recognized her.

Tara Bouger.

Wearing her trademark green slacks and a matching cardigan over a black turtleneck, she moved with deliberate poise, her gaze locked onto the three of them.

Drew immediately holstered his Input Magnum.

"Guys," he said through the comms, low and tight, "we've got company."

Jo turned, narrowed her eyes. "Oh, you've got to be kidding me."

"What's she want?" Roland muttered.

"No idea," Drew said, watching Tara close the distance. Her expression wasn't hostile—more curious. Measured.

Almost… impressed.

"Interesting," Tara said, clearly fascinated by the armor. Her eyes traced the contours of Stingerborg's suit. "I don't think I've ever seen armor and mesh integration quite like this. Despite the bulk, your range of movement is unimpeded. How does it work?"

"Can we help you?" Stingerborg asked, flatly.

"You already have," she replied, smiling. "You saved City Hall from those Magnavores. Even killed one of them."

"He'll be back. He's a robot," Strikerborg offered dryly. "Just so you're not surprised later."

Tara's eyes lingered on Strikerborg. Something flickered in her gaze and her eyes narrowed. "… Oh. I see."

Abruptly, she turned her attention back to Stingerborg and Hunterborg. "Before you disappear off to your little hideout, I'd like a moment. To talk about how we're going to get along moving forward."

Drew was naturally suspicious of where she was going with this.

Misao had the same vibe. "Hear her out. I'm recording everything."

"Okay… what?" Stingerborg asked.

"Your lawyer is alleging that, under the Peregrine Law, the circumstances surrounding your armor grant you a kind of legal gray area," Tara continued. "Until we find out more, you're in limbo. So long as you don't start committing actual crimes, the police won't intervene."

Stingerborg nodded. "Yeah, we heard; so what's your angle?"

Tara offered a practiced smile. "I was going to suggest that, going forward, we can have a closer relationship regarding dealing with the Magnavores. The next time they show up, you fight side by side with me—show the public there's no animosity between you and the authorities."

Stingerborg, Strikerborg, and Hunterborg all shared looks, their external mics cutting as they spoke to each other.

Inside their helmets, the Beetleborgs went radio-silent to speak privately.

"Is she seriously asking us to team up with her?" Jo asked, incredulous. "Also, did anyone else catch that tone she used with me?"

"You know she don't like working with other women, cuh," Roland noted, unhelpfully.

Jo muttered, "I'm gonna punch the Botox out of her."

Returning to Tara, Stingerborg stepped forward. "So you want us to work for you?"

"Think of it as taking you under my wing," Tara said, her tone as smooth as political charm could muster. "I've been in this game a long time—seen things, done things, fought things that would make these monsters look like cartoons. With my guidance, you'd never lose to them again."

"We've never lost to begin with," Hunterborg pointed out flatly.

"You know, since the world's not burning to the ground and the sky isn't screaming in tongues," Strikerborg added.

Tara raised her hands in a show of faux-humility. "Yes, yes—fair enough. That was rude of me. You're right—you've been doing great work, that's something to be proud of."

She looked between them with that same practiced smile. "You're doing an incredible job. I just want to help push you over the edge and reach that next level—to make sure that next time, when you put those freaks down, they stay down."

The three Beetleborgs exchanged another look.

"She's trying to control us," Roland said flatly over the radio. "Maybe even turn us on the others."

"Obviously," Drew replied. "And after the stunt she pulled? This pitch is DOA."

"Tell her to go eat shit, Drew," Jo suggested.

Drew smirked and glanced back at her. "Tell her yourself."

So she did.

"Eat shit, asshole," Jo said bluntly to Tara. "Fall off your high-horse."

Tara visibly recoiled like she'd been slapped.

"What did you just say to me?" she asked, scandalized.

"You heard me," Jo snapped. "After the way you talked to our friend? There's no universe where we team up with a frigid cunt Karen like you. Go straight to hell and suck Dr. Zin's dick when you get there, bitch."

Drew and Roland both stared at her, jaws slack behind their helmets.

Tara matched them—wide-eyed, speechless.

Over their radios, Misao burst into helpless, wheezing laughter.

"JO, I LOVE YOU!" Misao shouted between gasps. "A portal is opening, get your JoJo Posing butts out of there before she goes full Karen, ja?!"

Stingerborg regained his composure and squared his shoulders.

"There you have it." He gestured as the portal opened behind them. "We don't want anything to do with your crap, so fuck off."

Strikerborg pointed two fingers from her helmet's glowing yellow eyes to Tara—then dropped them into a middle finger as she stepped through the portal.

"Come at us on some fuck shit again, and see what happens," Hunterborg snapped as he followed after Strikerborg.

Stingerborg, the last to leave, gave Tara one final shake of the head—half disbelief, half disgust—and disappeared through the portal as it closed with a hum of finality.

Left alone in the City Hall parking circle, Tara stood stunned. She blinked. Once. Twice. Her mouth opened, then closed.

"… Ah… a… did… they…?"

Her expression twisted—rage rushing up her face like a volcanic eruption. Then came the scream.

"THOSE FOUL-MOUTHED, DISRESPECTFUL BRATS! HOW DARE THEY SPEAK TO ME LIKE THAT?!"

At the Beetle Battle Base, Misao was still doubled over, giggling like she'd just won the lottery. Across the room, Dipper Pines paused mid-sentence in his journal, raising a brow at her.

"What's going on?" he asked.

Misao turned to him, giddy. "Jo told Tara to eat shit."

Dipper blinked—then burst out laughing, a single bark of joy. "That's amazing. Her next meal's on me."

"Ja, count me in too," Misao said, before her eyes drifted to Dipper's sketchpad. "What are you drawing?"

"The armoire in Wolfy's room," Dipper replied without looking up. "I've basically sketched every inch of it. I was hoping there might be some other kind of trick to open it, but even Star's spells bounce off."

He frowned at the page. "Magic's weird that way. Glossaryck says it tends to keep out exactly who it wants. Honestly, I should probably have Star cast a lock on my journal…"

That thought struck a chord. Dipper's brow lifted.

"Wait. Journal—what if Dr. Hillhurst had one?"

Misao blinked. "You mean like… a diary?"

"Yeah," Dipper said, snapping his book shut as he stood. "If he had one, it might still be in the mansion, right?"

Misao followed his train of thought. "You think Flabber would know?"

"Only one way to find out," Dipper said. "Let's ask him."

Misao called out. "Hey Flabber~!"

A tiny Flabber, barely the size of an action figure, immediately appeared on the console in front of Dipper. "You rang, kiddos?"

Both looked down at him, as Dipper asked. "Did Doctor Hillhurst own a journal, or write a memoir?"

Flabber thought about it, before he brightened. "Oh boy, kids. I know for a fact that he did!"

Dipper brightened. "Do you know where it is?"

Flabber opened his mouth to answer, then stopped. "Huh…"

He thought about it. "Well, after he died, somebody came to the house and took it…"

Of course there'd be another dead end, Dipper tried not to be despondent over it.

"Wolfy?" He asked.

Flabber shook his head. "Oh no, this was someone else. A woman."

He stopped. "She said she knew Dr. Hillhurst, and me from when I was a wee baby Phasm, but I couldn't remember her at all! She seemed pretty nice, though."

Both Dipper and Misao shared a look, they only had MORE questions now.

Dipper asked the first and obvious one. "… Did she give you a name?"

Flabber shook his head. "No, but I definitely remembered what she looked like. I can show you!"

"Please!" Dipper said. "This might be a clue to figure out what happened with Dr. Hillhurst!"

Flabber beamed. "You betcha! Trust me guys, when you see her, you'll understand why I'd never forget a face like hers!"

Conjuring the image, Flabber projected it on the main screen of the Beetle Battle Base.

When they both looked at the woman he described, Dipper and Misao both blinked in surprise.

Flabber wasn't kidding.

Because whoever this white-skinned, red-haired, horned woman in a flame-colored dress was…

She was not human.

= - = 9-5 = - =​

Oh yeah, there's a LOT of lore going down.

 

[The Ero-Sennin]

The role Hekapoo plays in all of this... I've been waiting a while to get to this...

And this, too.

= - = 9-6 = - =

|Vexor's Drumbeat|​

Jara did not know how far she traveled.

Sometimes it was a slow, aimless walk. Other times, she leapt with all her might, flinging herself across the strange sub-dimension of endless discarded metal. Always in a straight line. Always away from Noxic's workshop.

After the humiliation with Barla—after so many piled-up indignities—she didn't just want to escape. She needed to. Some primal instinct compelled her to move, to keep going until the world itself changed.

She hadn't expected it to.

But then, it did.

Without warning, the scrap-covered terrain ended. One more step and she would have walked into the void.

She froze at the cliff's edge. Beneath her was a massive drop, thousands—maybe tens of thousands—of feet straight down into a vast, deep-blue ocean.

Jara blinked in disbelief.

Rising from that water were structures—skyscrapers—countless rectangular towers jutting from the sea like broken fingers.

Some stood alone; others clustered at impossible angles. A few loomed so tall they rose past the cliff where she stood, despite leaning like drunkards toward the abyss.

She was so far above it that she could not even hear the massive waves crashing against concrete bones or the cliff face below.

Jara took a step back, unsettled.

Her voice broke the silence. "...What is this place?"

Another voice answered, calm and amused.

"Fascinating," said Vexor. "So there is more to this place than heaps of scrap metal."

She spun, weapon already drawn, beam blade igniting with a threatening hum.

Vexor regarded her coolly, his posture open, hands behind his back like a curious lecturer.

"None of that, Jara," he said, mildly.

Her grip trembled.

After a long breath, she powered the blade down.

"Thank you."

Vexor extended a hand to her. "Jara, I believe it's time we had a discussion about your recent performance."

Jara stared at him, sword lowered. Her mask betrayed no expression, but the slight tilt of her head—just enough to seem off-balance—made her confusion plain.

"… What?"

Vexor didn't flinch. "Only a fool would miss the obvious. You haven't been well since our arrival. Your defeats at the hands of the Butterfly and her allies have stirred something unsightly. And the loss of Saberizer has unbalanced you. You've turned from operational objectives toward personal vendettas. From discipline to desperation."

He gestured to the vast, lonely expanse around them. "Even now, in a pivotal moment, you've removed yourself from the battlefield. Grief and doubt have made you unreliable—as a warrior, and as a leader."

Jara tensed. Her grip on her hilt tightened as the old fury flared to life. But the outburst never came.

Deep down, she knew he was right. She had fled—hoping to find some kind of absolution out in this surreal nowhere. But she hadn't found peace.

Vexor stepped forward. "So. With that in mind… do you want to talk about it?"

Jara stared, struggling to process the question. Since when did Vexor pretend to care?

Before she could answer, another voice cut in. "Jara."

She turned with a start.

Barla stood there, and behind her—battered from their continuous harassment of Echo Creek but standing—were Typhus and Noxic.

"Barla…" Jara said, focusing on her close comrade.

"I didn't consider that you might've been struggling when I confronted you before," Barla admitted in a calm, measured voice. "For what it's worth… I apologize. I spoke without understanding. And I want to."

"Yeah," Noxic chimed in. "You've been kinda… off, lately. Talk to us, will ya?"

"What's goin' on, baby?" Typhus asked, his tone lacking its braggadocio.

Jara looked at all three of them, then back at Vexor. They were concerned for her.

Well, certainly not Vexor. Her close friends, however…?

She lowered her head, eyes tracing the broken gray dirt under her boots. Then, after a deep breath, she exhaled slowly.

"… I've fought a Butterfly before," she said at last.

That surprised even Vexor. "You have…?"

He paused. Then his voice took a darker, more thoughtful edge. "…I see. Then your hatred… your aggression… it isn't just recent."

Barla blinked in confusion. "When was this? I'd remember something like that…"

"It was long, long ago," Jara replied. Her voice softened, distant. "Before we hunted the Black Star Eater—the one whose hide you now wear as armor."

Barla's brow furrowed, then relaxed in understanding. "Ah… I see."

"That was ages ago, then," Noxic said, scratching at his half-repaired torso. "Back when you still hung out with your mercenary crew, right?"

"I couldn't even begin to count the years," Jara murmured.

She looked up, as if searching the fog of memory. "It was after the first time you and I parted ways, Barla—when I sent you, Iluba, Hidra, and Gorgodal off on your own. While you forged your path, I took on a contract. Saberizer, Zaiking, Bardas, our squads, and I were hired by none other than…"

She looked back at them.

"… The Lord of Nightmares himself."

The reaction was instant.

Barla stiffened, her hand resting near her blade on reflex.

Typhus took a full step back, eyes wide. "Hold up—Jara, you worked for Nukus?!"

Noxic looked like he'd swallowed a live sparkplug. "When was that?! You mean Nukus Nukus? The Dinosaur Warrior Nukus?! Final Boss, Endgame with No Continues Nukus?!"

Only Vexor remained still. He watched her carefully, curiously.

"I am literally telling you!" Jara snapped, before catching herself and reining in her tone. "We owed no allegiance to the Lord of Nightmares. We were mercenaries—nothing more. Paid to do a job, bound by contract."

She took a slow breath, fingers tightening on her sword.

"Our mission was simple, in theory: eliminate the guardian of the realm Nukus wanted for himself."

She shut her eyes behind the mask, her voice thick with a bitterness none of them had heard before. "She was distracted, already fending off the invasion. We were meant to strike then, with all our might."

"So basically," Noxic said, trying to ease the tension, "the most important mission in this whole war. No pressure."

"We were expected to do well, but we were not prepared for what we faced." Jara's grim But Jara's next words cut through his levity like a blade.

"We weren't prepared."

Her mind flooded with the memory again. That light—too intense to be called radiance. A sunless brilliance that cast shadows like obsidian blades across the ground. The smell of stone dust and seared metal. Her comrades, frozen mid-charge, eyes wide, limbs still locked in motion—

The smile on her enemy's face.

The wand raised like judgment itself.

"There wasn't a battle," she said, voice low and bitter. "There was only a spell."

Her grip on her blade turned white-knuckled.

"Gorgon's Sun."

She bowed her head, trembling.
"In a flash, those who stared too long were turned to stone. Even those who ran were caught if they looked back even slightly. One moment they were beside me, the next—statues.."

She paused, jaw tightening.

"We ran for our lives. Of the dozens with us, barely a handful escaped."

She looked up at last, her eyes burning behind the mask.

"And all because we were told nothing of what we were facing. Only that she 'used magic.' No name. No history. No warning."

Her next words came through clenched teeth.

"And then… what Nukus did after…"

She stopped herself. Rage surged through her like fire in a forge.

"I have wanted nothing but revenge against that magic, against that woman. Since I have learned what it was… I have sworn it against the Butterfly girl."

Barla lowered her head. A grim realization settled over her. "… That's why you were alone when we reunited for the Hunt."

She met Jara's gaze, stricken. "I thought you'd simply moved on from the others. I didn't realize you'd… lost them."

She nodded. "When I spoke of Iluba and Zaiking joining us… I lied…"

Barla's eyes widened with the weight of understanding. "…Only you and Saberizer made it out."

Jara nodded grimly. "Zaiking turned to stone under the Gorgon's Sun… and Iluba…"

Barla's voice darkened. "Nukus."

"Yes," Jara said, her voice tight. "Cut down as I escaped with Saberizer and the few comrades we had left."

Silence fell after that, heavy with old pain.

Typhus stepped forward, his massive red clawed hand resting gently on Jara's shoulder. "You don't gotta keep this stuff all bottled up. We've been buddies forever, through good times and bad. If something's got you down, we'll be there to lift you up, baby!"

Noxic jumped in, gesturing to Vexor. "Yeah! That jerk may only want you patched up so you can go bust heads for him, but we just want our badass buddy back to her old butt-kicking self!"

Vexor said nothing. Perhaps wisely.

Barla stepped in close. Without a word, she wrapped her arms around Jara and pulled her into a tight hug.

The gesture surprised Jara, and she stood stiff in her arms.

"Nothing else needs to be said, Jara. You needn't run from your pain any longer, or suffer it alone. Let us fight together, and lay these demons to rest."

For a moment, Jara remained still, before her posture softened. The tension melted from her shoulders as she returned the hug.

"… Barla… Noxic… Typhus…" Her voice was steady, no longer trembling. "… Thank you."

Jara stepped back and looked at the three figures before her—the only ones who truly meant something to her in this world. The weight she carried was still there… but now it felt lighter, more bearable. Her pain had been acknowledged, and more than that—her burden was shared.
"I will not falter again," she declared.
Then, with a sudden flare of resolve, she thrust her fist high above her head. "We shall overcome our enemies and claim the wealth and glory of conquest!"

"Yeah, that's it!" Noxic whooped, pumping a fist of his own.

"I'm with you one hundred percent, baby!" Typhus said, throwing both fists into the air.

Barla gave a rare, genuine smile, proud to see Jara's fire rekindled. "As expected of you, Jara."

Even Vexor looked impressed—at least, as much as his rigid, expressionless face could allow. "Outstanding, all of you."

His praise got everyone's attention.

"Now that our merry band is reunited," he said, clasping his clawed hands together, "we can begin preparations for the next step."

Jara turned to the others, curiosity in her voice. "What have I missed?"

"A lot!" Noxic answered immediately. "After Barla threw down with those Beetle kids, Vexor started chucking me and Typhus at 'em like it was some kinda tag-team match."

"And we were the ones getting tag-teamed, baby," Typhus added.

Jara scowled, that aforementioned fire rising. "Then that ends now. I'll go and—"

"No," Vexor interrupted, raising a hand.

She paused, turning sharply to him. "Why not? What are you planning?"

Barla folded her arms. "He hasn't told us. In fact, he tasked me with finding you instead of joining the current assault."

Vexor's claws clicked softly as the chitinous creature brought his hands together in a gracious, placating gesture. "If you will… allow me to explain my method."

Vexor raised one hand as he lowered the other, a dramatic gesture both theatrical and commanding.

"Originally," he began, his voice calm and deliberate, "my plan was simple: deploy all four of you to spread chaos, instill fear, and—most importantly—erode the public's trust in the children calling themselves heroes. The disillusionment of their game was to be the weapon that cut them down."

He turned his raised hand palm-up, as if offering a gift—or a challenge.

"But," he continued, "as it turns out… these children are not the deluded fools we presumed them to be. They're adaptable, resourceful, and… most importantly… a considerable threat."

Jara clenched her fists but kept silent. Typhus growled low in his throat. Noxic twitched with visible irritation.

"So," Vexor said, his tone now silk-gloved steel, "a different tactic is required."

He paused. Let the silence weigh on his subordinates. Then, made his grand declaration:

"We shall no longer terrorize them. Instead—we shall show the world how easily we are defeated… and achieve victory by losing every battle."

For a moment, silence.

Then:

"WHAT?!"

The shout came from all four of them in perfect unison—Jara, Barla, Typhus, and Noxic—staring at Vexor as though he'd grown a second head.

Vexor tutted softly, shaking his head like a disappointed schoolmaster. "Now, now… let me elaborate back at the lair."

@@@@@​

Back in Glendale, Officer Boxter Hamdon pulled into the lot outside the city's police department HQ. As he stepped out, his partner, Officer Jeb Wackerman, approached, raising an eyebrow.

"Hey, Boxter," the ginger-haired officer greeted. "How's Guy doing?"

Boxter sighed as they walked together toward their cruiser.

"Same as usual," he said wearily. "I'm worried about the kid, Jeb. I don't think he trusts me."

"Well, they say being a cop is tough on the home front. Especially with teenagers." Jeb pointed out.

Boxter shook his head. "It's not just that. With Kelly, yeah, I can feel the pushback—but she still sees me as her dad. With Guy? It's like he's carrying something he thinks I'll hate him for if he tells me."

Wackerman rubbed his scruffy chin, hesitant. "Are you sure he's…?"

"I'm his father, Jeb. I know him." Hamdon's voice came firm—then softened. "Or… I hope I do. But I can't think of anything he'd be this afraid to hide from me."

Wackerman gave a sideways look as they reached the cruiser. "Not a lot of cops are as… open-minded as you, Boxter."

Boxter opened the driver's door, then paused with one hand on the frame. "It's not about being open-minded. It's about being a dad. He needs to know that whatever it is… I'm still a safe place he can turn to."

As Jeb climbed into the passenger side, a guttural engine roar ripped through the lot. Both officers turned in time to see an unmarked police interceptor screech around the corner, tires screaming.

It almost clipped their cruiser as it skidded into the adjacent spot. The driver's side door slammed open—crashing into the passenger side of their car with a resounding thunk.

Out stormed Tara Bouger, fury carved into every inch of her face.

She didn't even glance their way as she slammed her door shut and marched toward HQ on a warpath.

There was a beat of silence.

Jeb blinked. "… Did you see that?"

Boxter scratched his head. "Yeah. What's got her pissed off?"

Back in Echo Creek, the Magnavores returned to the crypt in a great burst of flame, Vexor gliding ahead of them on his effortless steps towards the sarcophagus.

"In all things, power begets authority."

As Vexor spoke, Tara's brisk walk through the front lobby of the Glendale Police HQ sent officers scrambling for their lives to get clear of her path, lest they experience her wrath.

With fire burning in her eyes, the woman made a sharp left and headed towards stairs leading down to the basement of the building.

"Those who hold power, must hold it absolutely, and unchallenged. Any force that dares challenge authority must be suppressed."

Reaching into the breast pocket of her suit, Tara whipped out a key card and held it to a scanner at an innocuous enough-looking door in the basement. With a confirming chime, it opened, and Tara stepped out of a suburban police department basement and into a concrete and steel gray and white corridor with a chill in the air that caused her breath to come from her lips like a jet of steam.

"If it is not suppressed, it must be taken."

As her heels clicked down the cold corridor, Tara peeled off her jacket and tossed it aside, revealing the black sweater she wore beneath, before throwing the key card lanyard over her head and around her neck.

The hallway opened into a large, rectangular room with a reinforced circular pad at the center beneath a pair of large double sliding doors directly above it.

"And if it is not taken…"

Directly across the pad, a large cylindrical chamber dominated the room. Made of solid, dense metal, faced with solid double doors, it loomed above Tara, nearly touching the high ceiling of the cold room.

Grabbing her keycard, she pressed her thumb against a sensor on it, and with a hiss and expulsion of super-cooled air, the chamber slowly opened to reveal a large humanoid figure contained within.

"… It must be destroyed."

Inside was a suit of powered armor: a black bodysuit reinforced with heavy green plating across the chest, shoulders, and legs. Its featureless helm sat beneath a dome of yellow-green transparent shielding, with thick hoses connecting its backpack to a pair of forearm-carried beam launchers—square, blocky, and deadly.

Barla gasped. "I understand! By making us appear incompetent and ineffectual, you are challenging the Beetleborgs and their allies to justify what they are doing!"

Jara nodded, realization dawning on her. "Surely someone in power is asking why these children are given free rein to fight unchecked, causing so much destruction… when the authorities alone should be capable of dealing with the problem."

"However," Barla brought up, "What if the authorities do not want to stop the Beetleborgs?"

Noxic folded his arms. "Yeah, what if they just turn around and decide to just leave us to the kids?"

Vexor chuckled.

"Because pride will not allow it."

Standing in the center of the launch pad, wearing the bodysuit and lower half of her armor with her arms held out and fingers pointed at the walls, Tara held perfectly still as large mechanical arms moved the upper components of the armor to lock over her chest, hands, and back.

"For the heaven-sent boon those children are—there is no doubt someone who will not be rendered a supporting character on their stage."

He lowered his hand. "Because there always is."

Beneath her helmet, Tara looked up through the transparent dome of her helmet as the doors above her head slowly opened to reveal the clear sky over the LA Metro area.

He turned to Barla. "You've worked with authorities. How often have they felt humiliated by your prowess—enough to even turn against you?"

Barla sneered. "Too many times, I've come to expect it."

Jara nodded. "Quite."

"Yeah, even I've seen it, baby," Typhus lamented.

"I haven't," Noxic said.

Vexor wasn't surprised, as he waved his hand and opened the lid to his sarcophagus.

"It is the same concept. There is always someone in a position of power who will feel threatened by something outside of their control… and that insecurity will be the bane of those children."

As soon as they grew wide enough, Tara crouched down and leaped as her thrusters ignited—blasting her off into the air. Her rocket-like ascent sent her into the clear sky, causing both Boxter and Jeb to look up in surprise as she ascended.

Back in his bedroom, Guy Hamdon gasped as his She-SP went off once again, and he transformed into SheZow.

"… What now?" He griped.

Reaching inside the sarcophagus, Vexor pulled out a comic book. It wasn't, however, a Beetleborgs comic.

It was a Batman comic, an older one. Volume 1: Issue 497.

Turning it over in his hand, he spoke.

"Then, I will simply… break them."

= - = 9-6 = - =​

Work smarter, not harder, and whenever possible... let someone else do the work.