Boy Howdy it's been a bit, this chapter was huge and remains huge. The immediate fallout of the battle is here, and new grave warnings hang over everyone.
= - = 51 = - =
|Aftermath|
At his home, Shermie stood in the backyard and watched the Magnavore Jet Fighters in silence. Even as his phone in his pocket buzzed, then rang angrily with calls that he hoped were from Nano and not his son and daughter-in-law, he waited and watched. It was a reassuring sight at least, when the Red Striker AV rushed out and easily destroyed the raiding fighters. Even more reassuring, he thought, was when the destroyed fighters just disintegrated and burned into nothing–instead of crashing into the town below as balls of flame.
But in the end, those were small comforts.
When the last fighter was gone and the Red Striker AV disappeared, he turned and went to the icebox on his patio. He pulled out several six-packs, some of soda, some of beer, and set them down on his picnic table. Then he turned and got the grill started and threw burgers and franks on the heat. They were almost done when he heard the familiar chime of Star’s Scissors opening a portal in the backyard. He adjusted his bowtie and turned to watch them file in one by one.
“You kids look like the boys coming back from the ‘67 war,” he greeted them.
“I feel like I
fought the ‘67 war,” Mabel replied while she helped Drew away from the portal to join Jo and Roland.
She raised a fist and pumped it. “… And won!”
Star and Marco sat on the bench, and she reached for the nearest cold bottle she could find and effortlessly popped the cap off with her thumb. She took a gulp from it and made a face.
“Urk, beer.”
After letting the taste settle on her tongue, she resumed chugging the bottle down.
Shermie smiled at her reaction, moreso at Marco’s switch from surprise to concern at her intake. “I remember my first beer with my old man in Jersey. Compared to the swill we had back then, this stuff is milk and honey.”
Star lowered the empty bottle from her lips, and reached for a soda next. “It tastes better than mashed corn juice.”
Mabel let go of Drew. “Are you good?”
“Yeah, I can stand,” he assured her.
“I’m going to get my first aid kit, you’ve earned
my best band-aids. You’re going to get
all the bunnies!” Mabel assured him before she disappeared into the house.
Dipper meanwhile had opened another portal, and Misao emerged from it. She had greeted him with a smile that lasted all of a half-second before she noticed the Red Strikerborg standing off to the side with her fellow Beetleborgs.
Jo noticed Misao and rolled her eyes. “We should change.”
Roland agreed. “Yeah, I’m starving, man. Didn’t get to eat my meat loaf.”
All three Beetleborgs held their hands out and said together. “Back Blast.”
In a flash they transformed out of their armors, and Dipper, Misao, Marco, Star, and Shermie recoiled in surprise just as Mabel came out the door.
“Okay, so I used up all my bunny band-aids, but I have plenty of other shapes, like cats, pigs, birds, and…”
She saw Drew and yelled. “HOLY COW!”
It was… bad. Bruises covered his right arm and went down his neck and collarbone. Blood soaked the lower half of his face, neck, stained his blue t-shirt. His right eye was entirely bloodshot, his iris standing out stark against the crimson.
Roland turned to him, wide-eyed with worry. “Man, are you okay?!”
“There’s no way that doesn’t hurt,” Marco said.
Drew brought a hand to his face and closed his right eye. As he rotated his right arm and felt the soreness catch up with him, he shook his head. “It doesn’t feel as bad as it looks–yet.”
Roland was particularly worried about the state of Drew’s eye. “Yeah, but when it does, that’s gonna hurt for a while.”
“What did Saberizer do to you?!” Jo demanded.
“You look like you did the Running of the Bulls–all over your face,” Shermie added.
Drew shook his head. “He hit
really hard… but the worst of this was from me using my power to keep up with him.”
Dipper walked over to him, already understanding. “… You used your telekinesis to move
yourself.”
Shermie did a double-take, his bowtie nearly popping off from his sudden movement. “Telekinesis?!”
Drew looked over at the picnic table and nodded. One of the sodas lifted from its cardboard six-pack box and floated over to him. Catching it in his left hand, he stared at the bottlecap, and it popped off and flipped before it froze in the air. Everyone watched the bottle cap fold itself in half, then in half again as Drew chugged down the soda. As soon as the bottle was empty, he let the bottle go and it floated into the box. The bottle cap followed, unfolding back to its original shape and sealing the mouth of the bottle.
Star stood up. “Whoa…”
Dipper was mesmerized. “Do you realize how precise you are?”
Drew nodded. “Yeah, it’s… really hard to describe. When the power’s on, I can feel everything around me out to a certain point. Whatever I can feel, I can manipulate it.”
Dipper was trying hard not to get too excited at the chance to study someone with telekinesis who didn’t want to kill him. He caught himself almost drooling as he watched him return the empty bottle back to the six pack.
“We need to know what you all can do with your powers, more than ever,” he said diplomatically.
Roland agreed. “Oh yeah, knowing what kind of limits we have is gonna make a huge difference.”
Jo didn’t forget Saberizer getting one over on her and Roland–even out-running his super speed. “Even with our powers, any monsters they summon might be able to beat us.”
Mabel brought Drew over to the picnic table and sat him down. “All right, sit tight so I can play doctor.”
Misao blurted out. “In front of everyone?”
Dipper turned his head to stare at her. “Don’t make it weird.”
“Now take off your shirt,” Mabel ordered Drew as she opened her first aid kit.
Misao snickered and Dipper palmed his face. Even after that bit of effervescence though, she still shot a cold glance back at Jo to see how she reacted.
A hard look back was Jo’s reply, before she turned to Roland. “Do you have another dash in you? I need to head home and tell my parents I don’t know where Drew is.”
Roland could feel the tension in the backyard shift downward with Jo’s announcement. “Yeah, good call.”
Jo shot Misao, Marco, and Star all one final defiant side-eye. “I bet.”
She avoided looking at Dipper entirely.
Roland placed a hand on Jo’s shoulder, and both disappeared from where they stood.
“Dipper,” Mabel said as she began bandaging up Drew.
He turned to her. “Yeah?”
“Talk to that girl and sort this out before she turns from you at twelve to Gideon at ten.”
Removing his lumberjack hat, Dipper rubbed his scalp, ruffling up his hair in the process. “I’ll have the perfect chance to do it Saturday. It’ll be just her, Marco, and me up there at Hillhurst.”
Star had finished her third bottle of soda by this point and set it down. “I’ll be there, too.”
Misao gasped. “You’re not going to crash the dance?”
Star shook her head, as she looked down at her wand sitting on the table in front of her. “I’m done antagonizing Brittney for a while. Not that I have a choice, she banned me from school until Monday.”
The foreign exchange student turned to Mabel. “What happened?”
Mabel winced. “Well…”
Dipper had no interest in diplomacy here. “Brittney cussed her out in front of everyone, and then I told her off and got banned from school, too.”
Misao’s expression darkened, her gray eyes almost black as anger surged through her. Rather than say anything, she sat down at the picnic table and served herself a beer.
Shermie set down hot dogs and burger patties for them to help themselves to. “I'll try talking to the Wongs about their daughter’s attitude. You’re right about one thing, go to that dance and you’ll be as welcome as a Jew at the Vatican.”
Star looked up at Shermie. “I don’t know what either of those are, but if the Vatican really hates Jews, you’re right.”
Shermie gave Star a grandfatherly smile. “Did you say you were sorry to her?”
“Yeah,” she answered, “She didn’t take it well.”
Shermie rested a hand atop her head and ruffled her hair in a kindly fashion. “Things don’t always turn out like we hope, girlchik. It’s the fact that you said your piece and understand you should leave her be that’s important.”
He gave her a wink as he added. “The important thing is not making the same mistakes over and over again.”
Star smiled up at Shermie and let out a breath like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders. “Thank you, Mr. Pines.”
“Yer welcome, kiddo.” He walked back over the grill and turned to face them. “And kids? I think it's time I broke out some of my old army manuals, and gave you kids a crash course on tactics and all that other army jargon that’s been crammed into my head since the 60s.”
Dipper chimed in. “We could stand to get some weapons, too. I didn’t feel right just standing off on the side today.”
Mabel brightened up, and accidentally tightened the bandage she was wrapping around Drew’s arm, making him yelp. “CAN WE USE THE SCHWANZSTUCKER?!”
Drew recovered from the squeeze and stared at her. “The…
what?”
Star looked at Marco for clarification, and he just shrugged his shoulders.
Shermie laughed at his granddaughter’s enthusiasm. “That and
more. I got a whole arsenal collecting dust–but yer gonna learn
how to use it before you go running off to war.”
Misao turned to Dipper. “Will guns even work on the Magnavores?”
Dipper nodded towards Marco as he replied. “Guns should hit almost as hard as he can, so they’ll be able to hurt them.”
Drew looked at Marco. “What’s up with that, anyway?”
Marco cocked an eyebrow. “What’s with what? The karate?”
“Yeah,” Drew said. “I can get us having superpowers, and Star having magic… but where do you dig down for what
you do?”
Marco stared at Drew for so long he blinked twice before he looked down at his hands. “I don’t know, I just use my karate and it works.”
He pointed over to Mabel. “Mabel was hitting Typhus just as hard as I was.”
At that, Mabel laughed. “Well, I did fight a unicorn, once. And I took kickboxing classes with Dipper for years.”
Star gasped in shock. “… Why would you fight a unicorn?”
Mabel’s eyes narrowed.
“Good reasons.”
Shermie spoke up, drawing everyone’s attention back to him. “Ehh, don’t worry about how Marco can fight as well as he can. Just be glad he’s on your side in it.”
He rubbed his chin, humming. “I knew a guy back in the IDF who used to break boulders by punchin’ them, and we were just glad he was using those hands to break tanks!”
Marco whistled. “Wow, like… actual tanks?”
The old man laughed. “Ha! He bent the barrel of a Syrian T-55 while the crew was still in it. They let him keep it after that!”
Star turned to Marco. “Earth’s just full of super strong people, huh? So much for this dimension being
boring.”
He nodded. “Guess so.”
Misao threw in her two cents. “Then finding more people who are able to help us fight would be good, ja?”
Drew let out a sigh. “I’d rather no one else get involved.”
Shermie took off his glasses, took a cloth from his shirt pocket and began rubbing the lenses. “I’ve got some bad news for you kids. I was hoping we wouldn’t have to talk about this, but after today… John Q. Public ain’t gonna be able to keep their noses out of this stuff, and
even worse? Uncle Sam’s going to be looking this way and wondering what the heck is going on. Help or hassle is coming your way whether you want it or not.”
Remembering all those phones pointed at the fights, Dipper grimly nodded. “Darn it, you’re right.”
Shermie put his glasses back on. “You’re gonna need somebody to vamoose on over to the police station or city hall and let them know they’re outta their league with these yahoos. Because if we don’t, there’s gonna be a lotta people getting in the way, getting hurt, getting taken hostage, or worse.”
For dramatic effect, he made a cutting gesture across his neck, before he continued.
“As for ol’ Uncle Sam? I can’t tell you how to deal with that. I wouldn’t even let the guys I might know inside The Company know what’s going on here.”
Misao hummed. “The company… I should be contacting mine.”
Shermie grimaced mildly at
that prospect. “I’d be careful about that one, too, Misao. If you kids start making the six o’clock news regularly for blowing up city blocks, it’ll put a bullseye on all of us.”
Drew looked down. “There’s so much to think about, now…”
Star spoke. “Then let’s
not think about it for a while. We’ve defeated the bad guys, saved the day, and we can all sit down and eat meat cooked over a fire–like all victorious warriors.”
She turned to Marco, smiling. “We earned it, right?”
Marco agreed with a nod and a warm smile back. “We definitely did.”
Shermie laughed and picked up a beer. “You heard the Princess, pop a brewski and relax!”
All bandaged up, looking like a mummy from the right side of his face down, Drew faced the table and put his head down on his folded left arm. “Yeah, it was a great win.”
With agreement all around, and Marco specifically inquiring to Shermie about this tank manhandler back in the old country, Drew used his telekinesis and retrieved the phone Janna gave him from his pocket. To his curiosity he found he could even operate the phone’s touch screen with his power, as he made his way to the contacts and found that the numbers of their group were already added to the contacts.
His brows rising, he smiled a little and sent a text straight to Janna.
Drew said:
Hey, thank you again for the phone. It’s way nicer than my old one.
After a few moments, a reply came.
Janna Banana said:
Think everything of it. Im still with Heather and shes still freaking out wondering where you are.
Drew mulled over that before he replied.
Drew said:
Tell her that I got banged up, but the Blue Stingerborg saved me.
There was another pause.
Janna Banana said:
Sure you don’t wanna just tell her?
Drew said:
I think she should stay out of this, so she doesn’t get pulled into any fights. It’s for the best.
Janna Banana said:
Cool, Ill get you all to myself.
His face flushed, and he rolled his eyes.
Drew said:
You’re terrible.
Janna Banana said:
Im your God, Sad Kid :smug:
Setting down his phone, Drew raised his head and served himself a hot dog, using his telekinesis to top it with cheese, relish, and mustard. Without thinking he reached for it with his right hand and winced in pain from the effort of lifting it. The pain seared, but it wasn’t as intense as he thought it’d be.
He wouldn’t forget this fight for a while, or how much he gave to win it and overcome someone who was stronger than him in every possible way by himself.
Saberizer was wrong about him.
But Drew was right about Saberizer.
For the first time, I’ve beaten something I shouldn’t have.
@@@@@
Just down the street from the cul-de-sac she lived on, Jo stood with her arms folded and her back to Roland, who was taking a breather against a stop sign. She glanced back at him, before she looked ahead at her house. That final, tense look she exchanged with Misao had cut deep into her, and made the seething over what the foreign exchange girl had done during her very first sortie in the Red Striker AV.
“If you don’t have anything to say, you can go,” she snapped at him.
Roland rolled his eyes. “What would me saying anything more accomplish? You’re the one who has things to say.”
“What, like ‘I’m sorry?’ Did you not hear Misao mess around with my weapons in the middle of a battle and act all high and mighty about it?”
Roland argued back. “She told you not to shoot at the ground.”
She stepped back up to him, hissing. “She went and messed with my weapons, and you’re on
me for endangering the team with over drama.”
Roland threw up his hands. “Motherfuckin’...”
He stepped away from the stop sign, then pointed up at it. “You need to do this and work your shit out, Josephine, I’m more than done.”
With that, Roland marched away. Jo burned a seething glare into the back of his head, until he finally flickered and vanished.
Shoving her hands into the pockets of her shorts, she turned and stomped off to the house–all but kicking the door open and stepping inside to find her mother and father watching the news. She stopped and watched, as amateur film showed the widest possible shot of heroic aerial action above the town. The talking presenters were speculating over what had happened, unsure of what was going on but agreeing that the blimp wasn’t involved, and Jo’s intervention likely stopped the unknown craft from attacking other aircraft in the area.
Mrs. McCormick was a blonde, green-eyed woman. standing just a little under her husband’s height. Her long hair was tied in a ponytail that went straight down her back, and she wore clothes as plain as her husband’s, a cream skirt and a pink blouse. She stood just behind where her husband sat in the living room, enough to the side and behind him that she is out of his line of sight. When Jo’s foot shoved the door open, she visibly jumped, and slowly looked in her direction.
“Jo? Where’s your brother?” She asked in a quiet, measured speaking voice well-suited for the indoors.
Jo slipped off her shoes going one foot over the other. “It was really hectic; I haven’t seen him since school let out.”
Her mother turned and looked at Mr. McCormick, who leaned forward in his chair and turned to look at his daughter. “You haven’t seen him? Or he told you to say that?”
She locked gazes with him as she answered. “Everything happened during lunch; I lost track of him and walked straight home.”
Mr. McCormick weighed her words, then sat back. “I see.”
Jo turned for the stairs and had just crossed the dining room to get to them, when her father spoke again.
“Your brother’s on very thin ice.”
She stopped barely halfway up the stairs and looked back at him. He was now looking at the television.
“If he keeps cutting class, and acting like he doesn’t live under my rules, I’ll feel inclined to make sure his stuff is moved out onto the street with him.” he added. “The stuff he needs; all that comic book nonsense can go where it belongs.”
Jo gave her father a look more withering than she would’ve felt comfortable if he was looking at her. “If he still had his phone, I’d let him know. That’s the only reason you
don’t know where he is, isn’t it?”
That won an immediate reaction, both her parents swiveling their heads sharply to look at her. Jo averted her eyes at the same time, her expression schooled.
“I’m just saying,” she said. “It’s not his fault he can’t tell you where he is. He could be hurt, or dead for all you know.”
She marched up the stairs, breaking off the tense confrontation and going straight into her room.
A near chaotic mess, organized in its disorganization, Jo’s sanctum was no different than Drew’s in its choice of decor. Reddle, the Red Strikerborg, posters, figures, plushies, and media decorated every horizontal surface of her room from her desk to her bed, to her dresser. The only bit of color to break up the reds and pinks was some green on a poster of the positively ripped G-Stag standing protectively in front of Reddle.
She sat down at her desk and folded her arms on it. Her eyes narrowing, she let out an irritated sound as the memory of Dipper’s terse tone and his hard glare when he chastised her.
“Good job, Jo,” she said to herself, “You’ve played yourself so well, you’re a solved game.”
She lifted a hand to rest her chin on it and sighed. “It took only a couple weeks, but I did it. I can’t be normal and just
like a boy, huh? It’s gotta be some weird mind-game and me trying to dominate everything.”
She glanced towards her bedroom door, in the direction of her living room downstairs.
“I wonder where I get it from?”
Sarcasm dripped from her question, as she looked back down at her desk. The memory of Star’s skull-marked cheeks when she threatened her in the alley, Misao’s cold glare on the screen of her AV, Roland’s disappointed glare, Marco striking her chest when she and Star came to blows, and once more Dipper’s piercing glower.
Inhaling sharply, she let the breath out slowly.
They all hated her.
“Just do it like every group project and class assignment,” she muttered, “Keep your mouth shut and focus on getting results. Carry the team and when it’s over you can pretend you never spoke to them.”
Jo dropped her hand back down onto the desk, then buried her face into her folded arms.
After a few moments she sniffled, and her shoulders shook.
@@@@@
Roland did not go straight back to Shermie’s place. Instead he went to Zoom Comics and played it cool as he walked through the doors. He didn’t take even two steps inside, when his father Aaron came running around the counter with relief all over his face. Reaching his son, Aaron gave him a tight hug and patted his back.
“Hey Dad,” Roland said as he returned the hug.
“Thank God you’re safe! Are Drew and Jo okay?” He asked as he pulled back.
Roland nodded. “Everyone’s okay, don’t worry. It was just really chaotic and weird, but no one got hurt as far as I can tell, we all went to Mr. Pines’ house after school let out.”
Aaron tilted his head. “Nobody got hurt–Mabel, Marco, and Star were okay after that?”
Roland nodded. “Yeah, you know those guys are just
built different.”
Like a whirlwind, Nano burst from the back of Zoom and swept up her son and grandson in a tight, protective hug. “Oh, my grandbaby’s okay! When I saw all that mess going on I was so worried!”
She gave them both an additional squeeze then let go. “My goodness, though, it’s everywhere! Them kids fighting those creeps–you know it’s going to be on the evening news and everyone’s gonna be talkin’ about it. I’d stay clear of them for a while, if you don’t wanna go get swept up in the circus.”
She had a point, and it brought it right back to Dipper’s own way back. No one knew who the Beetleborgs were–for now–and constantly associating with the twins, Misao, Star, and Marco was only going to make associating them with the Beetleborgs easier.
It was such a prescient reminder that Roland regarded his grandmother with a raised eyebrow.
Before he could meet her gaze fully though, Nano swept away, throwing her hands into the air in exasperation. “What’s this world coming to?! Supervillains running around dressed up like comic book monsters, fighting it out with high school kids! It wasn’t like this back in the 80s!”
It amused and relieved Roland that Nano thought the Magnavores were cosplaying supervillains. He shrugged his shoulders. “Well, yeah, there aren’t any grown adult superheroes around to actually fight bad guys anymore, are there?”
“There’s Team Go,” Aaron helpfully pointed out.
Roland rolled his eyes. “Last I heard they don’t go out much because Shego’s not there to
carry them.”
Aaron snapped his fingers and pointed. “Kim Possible?”
“She’s in the same grade as Roland, sweetie,” Nano pointed out.
Aaron let out a hum of surprise. “Really? Now I’m real curious about how a girl like her gets around.”
“Phrasing,” Roland and half the rest of the shop’s current party of guests said as one.
Scowling at the juvenile snickering around him, even from his own mother, Aaron sought a name off the top of his head that wasn’t a fictional comic book hero. “Minuano, the samurai from Brazil.”
“I don’t think he’s even allowed in the country after the last time he was here,” Nano said.
She placed her hands on her hips and let out a melodramatic hum. “I remember when there were as many heroes out there as there were in the comic books.”
Aaron nodded in agreement. “The 80s were something else–the 90s, too.”
Nano’s tone lowered a bit, a hint of disappointment–maybe even sadness to it. “Kids didn’t need to be out there fighting bad guys or their monsters in the street.”
Her tone got a little more bitter. “Halcyon Days my big black behind.”
Roland shrugged his shoulders once more. “Well,
I think Star and Marco got this; them, the twins,
and those guys going around kitted out like the freakin’ Beetleborgs.”
Nano’s eyes narrowed just a little behind her spectacles. “You ain’t wrong.”
She brightened as she changed the subject. “Nevermind all that, now. Is this going to change your Homecoming Dance, sweetie?”
His eyebrows rose at his grandmother’s question. “Oh yeah… so much happened today the prank slipped my mind.”
Aaron gave him a thumb’s up. “We’re ready on our end to make that party
unforgettable.”
Roland let out a hum as Star’s tearful self-recrimination flashed through his thoughts. Light glimmered in his eyes, a gleam as an idea formed and became a cruel spark. “Actually, I had a better idea for the dance.”
Both Nano and Aaron looked at each other, then at Roland, as he smiled.
“It’s super short notice, but it’s the best prank I can think of,” he said as he broke into a smile, “Especially with how important this is to Brittney.”
There was a malice in Roland’s smile that his father and grandmother had never seen before and worried it them. When he explained his plan, however, they were completely onboard with it.
@@@@@
The sun had almost completely set, fading beneath the distant horizon, when Star and Marco returned home, the two appearing in the living room right by the stairs in full view of Marco’s parents. They were waiting patiently, Rafael looking anxious while Angie had an expression of relief and worry all tied up in knots as she got up and walked over to him–her husband just a pace behind her.
“Oh Marco, Star!” She said as she pulled both of them into a tight hug. “I’m glad you’re both okay. The fight you were in, it’s all over the internet and even got on the six o’clock news.”
Marco nodded. “Yeah… sorry for worrying you.”
Star saw the brighter side of it. “But hey, the six o’clock news! That means Marco’s pretty famous now, right?”
Rafael joined the hug. “Yes, very famous. But we have questions, now.”
Marco’s gaze darted back and forth between his parents, a tad nervously. “Questions?”
Angie agreed as they pulled away from the group embrace. “Yes, like
what is going on and
why were you fighting those monsters?”
Rafael sniffed the air just above Star’s head. “And… have one of you been drinking beer?”
Angie narrowed her eyes at both of them. “… Beer?”
Before the subject could fully switch rails to
that topic, Marco held up his hands. “Mom, Dad, hold on. Let’s talk about what’s going on with the monsters–it’s
really important.”
Star quickly nodded. “Oh yeah, fate of the world stuff–maybe even the universe.”
It took ten minutes, a lot of gesticulating, some dramatic reenactments, and careful omissions of names from the general record without compromising the overall veracity of the account, but Marco and Star successfully retold the general gist of the last several weeks to Angie and Rafael. When they were done, Angie held her hands together with an expression of intense concern, while her husband was stroking his chin as he let what had been told sink in.
“The Magnavores are
real,” Angie said quietly.
Marco nodded. “Yeah, and this is the first time they went after other people instead of just trying to go straight for us.”
Rafael lowered his hand from his chin. “And it’s all of them? Jara, Typhus, Noxic,
and Vexor?”
Angie flinched at the mere mention of their leader’s name.
“He even showed up today,” Star confirmed, before growing bitter. “I thought I blasted him harder than that.”
Marco’s parents looked at one another, then at their son and their charge. They looked at one another again, before Angie gave her husband a nod of consent.
Rafael all but leaped up from where he sat to his feet. “This calls for tequila.”
“Four glasses,” Angie quickly said after him.
Rafael was back from the kitchen, handing Star, his son, and his wife each a shot glass filled with the clear golden-brown liquid. The moment she had her glass, Angie raised her glass in a toast and all of them knocked back the strong liquor at once. Marco, being the entirely inexperienced drinker, nearly gagged from the intensity of the flavor, but stopped himself and swallowed it down like everyone else.
“Oh wow, that burns the whole way down,” he gasped.
Star looked at her glass in surprise. “That hit a little harder than mashed corn juice.”
Angie lowered her glass, setting it on the coffee table, then looked at Marco. “Your father and I are not angry at you, and we are
not going to stop you from going out there and fighting.”
Marco and Star brightened, before he asked. “You’re not?”
“Of course not!” Angie said. “Young man, we’ve been reading Big Bad Beetleborgs since before you were born! If they’re
anything like in the books
at all, then they
need to be stopped!”
Rafael nodded in agreement. “I am so glad that we paid for those karate classes!”
He then patted both teens on their shoulders. “But please, do not be reckless and don’t go seeking fights if you can avoid them. We want you to be as safe as you can.”
Star was beaming. “Don’t worry about Marco, Mr. and Mrs. D! I’ve got his back at all times!”
Marco put his arm around Star’s back and pulled her close to him. “And I’ve got Star’s.”
“But neither of you have armor,” Rafael noted. “If Typhus had hit you with any of those punches, we’d be scraping you off the street right now instead of drinking Tequila.”
Marco could not deny how true that was. He had to devote every fiber of his focus on Typhus each time they fought, and at the rate they were going a lucky hit was inevitable. “That’s why I’ve been training harder than ever.”
Rafael nodded. “Well, do something about making sure you are not hit, my son.”
Star hummed and glanced down at her handbag where her wand resided, before Angie turned to her.
“Do your parents know about this?” She asked.
Star grimaced. “I don’t think they should. They might just make me come back home.”
She took Marco’s other hand and held it. “And I’m not going to just leave you guys fighting the Forces of Evil without me. I love you guys, you’re the best!”
Marco’s cheeks turned red as Star gripped his hand tightly. “We love you too, Star.”
Rafael and Angie both repressed the urge to go “Aww” like a studio audience as Star and Marco shared affectionate looks with one another.
Mr. Diaz spoke. “We will cover for you as best we can, Star. We cannot bear to see you and Marco apart!”
Angie helpfully added. “You two are so cute together–and you’re our best hope against the Magnavores.”
Marco agreed. “Yeah, you’ve got the team on your back.”
Star was overcome, and she sprang from Marco to hug her. “Ohhh! Thank you for being so cool! You’re the best!”
Laughing, Angie hugged Star back. After the moment’s embrace, she pulled back to address both her and her son. “I’m glad we had this talk, and from now on we should talk more.”
Rafael agreed. “Do not be afraid to talk to us about anything, especially if it feels like things are getting too much for you to handle.”
“We promise,” Marco said before he got up. “Even though the sun’s just going down, it’s been a really long day and I want to start unwinding now.”
“Mmhm!” Star agreed. “You know I get the best night’s sleep after a battle.”
“And a barbecue?” Marco asked with a cheeky smile.
Star gestured emphatically to Marco. “What else are you going to eat after a battle? Salad? Bread? It’s gotta be meat!”
She chopped into her hand to emphasize her next words. “Cooked over a fire!”
With a toss of her hair, she headed for the stairs. “That’s how warriors roll!”
Watching her bounce up the stairs, Marco bid his parents goodnight and sped after her. As she reached the top of the stairs, Star heard Marco coming up behind her and turned back just to end up in his arms.
“Ah?” She gasped in surprise.
“Star…” He purred and she had only a second to register the warmth in his smile and the fire in his eyes before he kissed her. In an instant she hugged him back and returned the kiss with a pleased sigh against his lips.
Marco led her through the kiss as he walked her back and pressed her against the wall by her door. It lasted another moment after that, before they slowly parted and stared at one another. Star was breathless in the wake of it, her cheek marks nearly crimson as she rested her head against the wall.
“Ah… what was that for…?” She asked, not at all complaining.
“Because you’re amazing, and I’ve been waiting all day to do that,” he whispered back as he caressed her cheek with his right hand.
“… Mi cariñito…”
Star placed her hand over Marco’s and let out a soft giggle as she nuzzled into his palm, feeling all fuzzy inside when he called her that.
“Thanks for getting Jo out of my face when she flipped out on me.”
Marco stroked her cheek with his thumb.
“Yeah, to be honest that stung more than punching Typhus did. That armor is strong.”
“I’m going to think of a spell for that,” she promised, before she caught Marco with another kiss and pulled him firmly against her.
“For what?” He whispered back when they parted again.
“For armor, so we can punch people and not get hurt, or worry about getting zapped…”
Marco cut her off with another kiss.
“… Or concussions?”
Star pouted at Marco for bringing that up, before smiling and giving him a quick peck on the lips.
“Or nearly stabbed by crazy swordsmen.”
“That’s fair…” He purred, sending Star into a swooning laugh that he muffled when he kissed her again.
“Mmm~”
Angie clearing her throat doused plenty of cold water on their hormone-driven ardor, and both looked back to see her leaning around the corner from just below the top of the stairs giving them a friendly, awkward wave.
“We’re trusting you to be careful, to be responsible, and to come back safe and sound when you go out into battle.” That said, she gave them both a harder look. “We’re still your parents, though, and this does not change the
other boundaries we’ve set for you. Do I make myself clear?”
Marco nodded once, but fast. “Absolutely.”
She met Star’s gaze. “Is that clear to you too, Star?”
Star jumped and nodded quickly when she fell under scrutiny. “Yes mom–ma’am.”
Marco then asked. “For clarification’s sake, we can still make out, right?”
Angie’s gaze shifted to stare at him again. “… Yes.”
Rafael peeked in over Angie and wagged a finger to them. “But do not take a step past second base.”
Star looked at Marco. “Ooh, what’s second base?”
“It’s a baseball thing,” Marco replied.
“… Do they make out in baseball? Because if they do, I want to watch more baseball.”
Angie burst into snickering, while Rafael pondered Star’s question. Marco rolled his eyes in exasperation.
“We’ll behave,” he promised his parents. “Nothing under the clothes or below the belt.”
Angie stopped laughing, the full force of a
Mom Stare locked onto the two.
“Good. And leave the door open if you’re going to be in there alone with her, Marco.”
Both he and Star looked at her door, and the former quickly opened and took the latter’s hand to slip inside. Satisfied to see the door remain open, Angie huffed in victory and headed downstairs.
She placed a hand on her cheek as she let out a little squeal of joy. “She’s already calling me
‘Mom.’”
Rafael lingered just a few seconds more to make sure the door didn’t just happen to swing shut, then followed her. “You know, she is right, baseball with makeouts would be fun.”
Angie’s giggle at that was on the dirtier side. “I would definitely watch it~”
Star had her own hand on her cheek, still giggling from being caught and what they were caught doing. As soon as they entered her room, she embraced Marco from behind and rested her chin on his shoulder to whisper in his ear.
“Marco~”
As she began to peck him on the cheek, Marco smiled and tilted his head to the side to allow Star’s kisses to trail down his jawline. Just as she reached Marco’s neck, both heard another throat clear, but it wasn't Angie’s.
Star jumped away from Marco’s back and both looked at her Magic Instruction Book. which sat open on the end of her bed. Floating just above it in the lotus position was the tiny, blue, bearded guide of the book–Sir Glossaryck of Terms.
“Just wanted to let you know that I’m here,” Glossaryck said before turning his back to them. “You can go back to whatever
that is.”
Star made a face. “Nah, you killed the mood.”
Marco agreed as Star walked over to the bed and flopped onto it next to the book.
“Actually, since you’re out and about. I wanted to ask you about protection spells.”
Glossaryck stared at Star for several seconds, before blowing a kiss to the audience in his head. “Goodnight, everybody!”
Star sat up and stopped him before he could close the book on himself. “Not
that kind of protection! A strong armor spell for Marco and me to use!”
Glossaryck maintained that flat stare. “… You’re just like your mother.”
Star drew back ever slightly, glowering. “In what way?”
“Less than you think, more than you know.”
“Gosh Glossaryck, back at it again with that
aggravating obtuseness,” Marco said in exasperation.
“Don’t hate me because I’m beautiful,” Glossaryck chimed back as he turned to face Star. “One thing that your mother did want very early on when I was teaching her, was ample protection for when she was in battle–and similar activities.”
Star’s glower intensified, “Stop that!”
Glossaryck carried on like he complied. “There are countless protection spells. Armor creation, magical barriers, wards of various elements…”
He levitated off the book and hovered just above the end of Star’s bed, gesturing down to it.
“All of that and much more is a turn of the page away.”
Star looked down at the Magic Instruction Book, and grimaced. Half as tall as she was and twice as heavy, since she’d gotten the book she’d skimmed through it
once, barely reading more than a page or two of each section and hardly writing anything in it herself.
“But there’s
so much to go through…”
“Well you want to become more powerful, right?” When Star nodded, Glossaryck gestured down at the book. “This is a comprehensive manual on
power itself. Eight generations of the most powerful Wielders of the Royal Magic Wand
ever are written in these pages. The things you can learn from them could destroy this world and any other… and just as well protect it.”
Marco looked over. “Whoa, is it that big of a deal?”
Glossaryck turned to face him. “Is it that big of a deal? Are you that big of a deal? Is the Evangelion doing shadow puppets with the Getter RoboboboboboboBOBO?!”
Marco rolled his eyes as Glossaryck’s head began turning like he was possessed, and he made crude approximations of shadow puppets.
“Ask a stupid question…” He muttered.
Glossaryck stopped acting out and folded his arms and legs once more. He regarded Marco with a placid smile. “You’re learning.”
Star lifted up one of the book’s pages and winced at the weight of the old parchment. It felt like the whole book was going to be a workout. “I don’t think I have the time to study like this.”
Glossaryck moved backward until he was above and just behind her. She craned her head back to look up at him with doe-eyes as he spoke. “Yes, you’re finding yourself rather busy these days, Star, but I can understand that.”
Star frowned. “Understand how?”
“You’re fighting the forces of evil, and what evil forces they are. Why just this afternoon I felt tremendous power the likes of which I haven’t sensed in… oh… 1000 years and some change.”
Star awkwardly turned around without breaking eye contact with Glossaryck. “Please don’t tell Mom.”
“Why would I? She’d drag you back to Mewni and probably have this dimension sealed off if she knew what was going on.” Glossaryck laid on his side, head propped up on one hand. “And that would be terrible for teaching you.”
Star brightened, as Marco sagged in relief. “You really won’t say anything!?”
“I don’t work for Moon. I’m your guide, not your babysitter, and–as much as I love your mother–definitely not a snitch.”
He brought the back of his hand to the side of his mouth as he leaned towards Star. “You know what happens to snitches.”
“Right, stitches,” Star replied.
Glossaryck drew back and sat upright, folding his hands into his sleeves as a third hand emerged from his back and pointed at Star. “That said I am
your guide and training you to be Queen is just as pertinent to me as it is to your mother.”
“Then how about training her instead of being so vague?” Marco muttered.
A fourth arm pointed at Marco. “Hey, I don’t tell you how to make out with her, don’t tell me how to teach.”
Marco was not having that as he walked up to Glossaryck and glowered down at him. “I’ve been yanked around by a teacher enough to have no patience for it. Do Star a favor and get on the express train to the point, we don’t have time for stupid games and riddles.”
Star snapped her fingers. “That was a metaphor, wasn’t it?”
Without looking at her, Marco gave her a thumb’s up.
Glossaryck narrowed his ruby eyes, less with any kind of malice and more with bored disappointment. He floated to the side and gestured to the book. “As I said, it’s all there in the manual.”
Star looked down at the book and turned a page, heading towards the beginning of the book, revealing Mewman, and countless scribbles of coded language and ancient tongues that she’d never seen before written. She then turned another page, showing a beautifully drawn portrait of a woman with curly orange hair, blue eyes, cream-colored skin, and hourglass-shaped cheek marks. She wore a flowing yellow gown and carried a golden magic wand with a winged clock as its bell.
“Skywynne Butterfly, the Queen of Hours,” she murmured.
“What does it say?” Marco asked.
Star tilted her head. “I can only read her journal entries, they’re in standard Mewman and I read those before… everything else is in Low Mewman or code.”
She flipped the pages, which treated her and Marco to rather dramatic images of vine-snared towers, bodies sailing into space, terrible creatures rising from their graves, and a black box with an evil eye spewing out nightmares. Each page was covered in dense text that Marco didn’t recognize at all and, judging by Star’s furrowing brows, she couldn’t make sense of either.
“Geez, what kind of magic did Skywynne cast?” Marco asked.
Glossaryck was actually forthcoming this time. “Powerful magic, the most powerful I’d ever seen from any Wand user before or since–with one or two exceptions. She’s not called the Queen of Hours for nothing.”
A wicked and terrible smile crept across Star’s face. “If I could learn spells from Skywynne…”
Glossaryck raised his six-fingered right hand and made a waving motion, turning the pages to later in the book. “You’d probably destroy the world, like she almost did. Repeatedly.”
Star lifted her head up. “Still!”
“You want to
fight the Forces of Evil, not do their job for them.” Glossaryck reminded her.
Marco nodded. “I don’t like it, but I agree with Glossaryck, whatever crazy stuff Skywynne could do? Probably a little bit above where you’re at now.”
He gestured to his waist. “It’d be like you were a Yellow Belt in karate trying to master Black Belt skills.”
Star nodded and held up her left arm. “Or trying to ride a Warnicorn when I barely know how to control a pony.”
“Exactly,” Marco said.
Glossaryck leaned towards Marco and spoke out the corner of his mouth. “She broke that arm in six places.”
Marco winced. “Eugh.”
The resident of the book turned back to Star. “Speaking of Warnicorns, there is a spell you can learn from Skywynne to get started.”
With another wave of his hand, the book stopped. It was still in Skywynne’s section of the book, showing her standing with her wand raised above her head while a raging stampede of large, fearsome unicorns covered in the scars of battle charging around her.
“Warnicorn Stampede,” Glossaryck presented to them. “And unlike her other spells, this one is written in Mewman. She thought it a rather tame beginner spell to pass on.”
Star sighed. “Warnicorn Stampede is cool and all, Glossaryck, but I have too many spells for wrecking stuff, I need a really specific spell for protection in battle.”
“Like I said, plenty of those, but it doesn’t change the fact that there’s a lot of required reading to get to that level of expertise, Star,” Glossaryck said.
Star groaned. “Then just tell me that!”
“I did, but someone thought–and I’m not pointing elbows.” Glossaryck pointed five at Marco. “That it was… what was it again?
Aggravating obtuseness?”
Marco’s glare returned. “No, I specifically said you’re yanking Star around.”
Glossaryck threw all five of his hands up. “Details! I can guide you through the process, but it
will still take time. That isn’t to say that it can’t be made easier beyond my storied guidance. I’m sure if you knew some well-studied intellectual with a penchant for exploring the unknown and deciphering dead tongues written by dead hands, you’d be able to learn not only Skywynne's secrets, but the secrets of every author of this book.”
Star and Marco looked at each other, both thinking of the same name.
“Dipper.”
“Who?” Glossaryck asked.
“He’s been helping us fight bad guys,” Marco said, “He’s a paranormal investigator and a monster hunter.”
Glossaryck rolled his eyes and turned away. He was about to suggest it was very nice that they knew a crackpot, when Star added.
“Him and his sister even helped stop this crazy dream demon from invading reality and causing the end of the world once.”
Marco agreed. “Yeah, Bill Cipher.”
Glossaryck’s eyes shot wide, then his head did a full 180 to look at the two like a cartoonish owl. “… Bill… Cipher…?”
Star nodded. “Yeah, little yellow triangle guy with a top hat and one eye, you’ve heard of him, right?”
Glossaryck’s body twisted around to align with his head as he returned to his nonchalant self. Uncrossing his arms, the guide steepled his fingers pointed upward, then down. He closed his eyes, as if to meditate.
“… Bill Cipher.”
Marco raised an eyebrow and looked at Star, who shared his expression of curiosity when he murmured again. His nose twitched, his lips quirked, his eyebrows waggled as he sat there, humming repeatedly in stern concentration.
“Bill Cipher,” he repeated once more.
“So… are you trying to remember him? Or is his name just fun to say?”
Glossaryck opened his left eye and looked at Star with it, then opened his right to look at Marco as well. Both eyes blinked one after the other and both teens thought it was creepy.
“Star, when you’ve seen as much as I have, you’ll find that your capacity for
surprise is far behind you. Still, today you managed to remind me what that used to feel like.”
Marco didn’t like that. “Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”
“It is
a thing,” Glossaryck replied. “But it’s fortuitous you’ve met someone so clever. I
strongly advise that you enlist him in your studies.”
He rubbed his chin as he spoke, whatever thoughts hidden behind his inscrutable nonchalance.
Star brightened and turned to Marco. “I think Dipper will love to go through the Magic Instruction Book!”
Marco replied with a dry look back at her. “Yeah,
I think he’ll get tired of Glossaryck
real quick.”
“Poppycock,” Glossaryck admonished. “I’m sure that Dipper will be thrilled to meet me. After all… there’s much we can learn from each other…”
For once, Sir Glossaryck of Terms had questions he wanted to ask.
@@@@@
In a world an impossible distance away, an unknowable length of time ago, on a rocky shore lit by the newly risen sun, two warriors fought with incredible speed, ferocity, and skill. Jara, the Mercenary General known across the dying worlds and fading stars for her fearsome army of warriors loyal to none but her crossed blades with the strongest blade known alive, the wandering swordsman Saberizer.
Saberizer’s falchion clashed with Jara’s short sword, her horizontal swing meeting his vertical block and repelled. They circled one another, Jara so light on her feet she seemed to skim across the ground before she touched it and charged again, this time stabbing for his chest. His blade came across, meeting the tip of her drill-shaped blade and dragging it away in a mighty parry. Then just as quickly he brought the weapon back, a curving, rising slash aimed for her hip to carve upward through her torso, but she was quick enough to bring her weapon back and block the cut. She parried his strike upward, but Saberizer retained control and merely twirled the blade around his right hand and thrust the tip for her chest, forcing her to raise her weapon to block again. Sweeping the falchion back and forth he struck, and each blow forced Jara backward as she dedicated all her energy to defend herself.
After several more blows, he came down with a vertical strike and she met it, locking their weapons together–bolts of plasma erupted from their weapons that cut into the rocks and gravel around them to leave molten streams and hissing steam clouds.
The growing power exploded, and the two warriors were flung from the blast and each other. Saberizer landed on his side of the blast, his feet kicking up stone and black sand as he halted himself. A flash of red out the corner of his eye to his left was his only warning to block Jara’s lunge, but it was more than adequate. He turned into her, raising his falchion with the tip pointed to the ground, and blocked her stab before whipping the blade up in a counterattacking swipe. She moved clear to her right, avoiding the return blow, and attacked again even faster head on.
Every advantage belonged to Saberizer, the reach of his falchion easily exceeded hers, and when she used her agility to get inside his reach, his sword was somehow there to parry her away or come edge-first at her from a completely different direction to throw her off and force her to leap back into his range and onto the defense from his attacks.
I could never defeat him.
It was, for lack of any other words to describe it, beautiful. He wasted no movements, every step, every strike, every block, every counter, it was all perfectly measured–not just in form but against hers. He knew exactly what was needed to defeat her and did so at his leisure.
I dueled him countless times.
She escaped a diagonal stroke from the falchion and dug her feet into the dirt. Both hands gripping the hilt of her blade so tight that tears appeared in her gloves, she launched herself to his right then went in to stab his exposed side. He was a step faster, hopping back and bringing to parry her away when she over-committed to the stab, using a wide swing of the falchion.
I fought him with everything I had every time.
Letting go of her short sword with one hand, Jara swung down on his shoulder with all his might, but once again he was faster and with a quick twirl of the falchion, he thrust the weapon upward to meet hers and knock it flying straight up from her hand.
And lost miserably.
The falchion came back down, stopping right at the base of her neck as she stopped in unison with it. Her tumbling blade impaled a rock not too far behind her, the heat that rose from the blade splitting it clean in two.
Yet…
She looked up at Saberizer, her ever expressionless mask staring at his battle-gnarled face. With no expression of his own to convey his feelings on their duel thanks to his ancient wounds, he nodded.
There was no one else who could make me feel so humbled, and at the same time he made me feel like I could actually surpass him.
Her body relaxing, Jara nodded back, then bowed her head to Saberizer.
So then… how?
Then Jara was suddenly in another impossible place, but much, much more recent. She was unable to move, she wasn’t even breathing as she watched the Stinger Blade pass through Saberizer’s body like he should've done to the Blue Stingerborg by every right.
How does an abysmal whelp who can barely hold his own head up, let alone any kind of weapon, strike him down?
She watched him stagger.
How?
She watched his broken blade fall to the ground as he raised his head one final time to apologize for his failure.
How? How? How? How? How? How? How? How? How? How? How? How? How? How? How? How? How? How? How? How? How? How? How? How? How? How? How? How?
His humiliation at the hands of a worthless, pathetic boy.
How? How? How? How? How? How? How? How? How? How? How? How? How? How? How? How? How? How? How? How? How? How? How? How? How? How? How? How? How? How? How? How? How? How? How? How? How? How? How? How? How? How? How? How? How? How? How? How? How? How? How? How? How? How? How? How? How? How? How? How? How? How? How? How? How? How? How? How? How? How? How? How? How? How? How? How? How? How? How? How? How? How? How? How?
Vexor stood in silence as he looked down at Jara inside the Magnavores’ crypt hideout. She was sitting on her knees, her head bowed down to stare down at half of Saberizer’s falchion. It was the only thing left of him that came with her when recalled her from the battle she lost.
She hadn’t moved from that spot for several hours now, just sitting there in silence.
“How dreadful,” he lamented. “This is quite possibly the worst defeat yet.”
He turned away from her to Typhus and Noxic, who had been similarly quiet out of respect to their friend. He gestured out to them, and they looked back at him.
“Yeah, what?” Noxic snapped.
“So then, the troll?” He asked.
Noxic jabbed a finger at Vexor. “Does it look like we’re done mourning, ya mook?!”
Vexor moved much closer to Noxic, unyielding in the face of his indignation. “She is not. You are. Now, the troll, explain yourselves.”
Typhus stopped Noxic before he could say something that’d get him junked again. “He didn’t see it, Vexor, I did. Over at the school, a she-troll, right in the prime of life, baby. The school and all them kids are her turf.”
The news didn’t set well with Vexor, his visage darkening as he turned away from them. “Unfortunate. A troll complicates matters, and we already fall further behind in strength with each battle. Was there anything
else?”
There certainly was. “Yeah, baby. The Butterfly’s wand wasn’t workin’, it couldn’t cast any spells and just fired green sludge everywhere. It was messy even for me.”
That piqued Vexor’s interest. “Curious, a Butterfly’s power waning at so young an age… I must know why.”
“Before you order us to capture her again? Screw you,” Noxic piped up.
Vexor turned towards him. “No, I will not be sending you on a fools’ errand. I have a more important task in store for you.”
“Oh boy, you’re actually usin’ that super brain of yours. Amazin’! Tell us what you got, boss crab!” Noxic begged with all his sarcasm.
Their leader would blast him as he had before, but he needed him intact. “I will need several items, but foremostly I need an army. I leave it to you to construct it out of materials here, rather than summon them from the Nightmare Realm.”
That had Noxic lighting up like a billboard at sundown. “No kiddin’?!”
“You’ve known me long enough to know what japery I tolerate.”
Just enough, neither Typhus nor Noxic replied.
Noxic clapped his hands. “Well, you’ve sold me on it! I’m gonna get started right away!”
Vexor tilted towards him, gesturing with an open upraised palm. “I leave it to you then, construct me at the very least a hundred Scabs in a fortnight.”
“A hundred? No problem! I can get two hundred done by then!” Noxic cheered, happy to be doing something that he enjoyed.
Typhus spoke up. “What about me, baby? Want me to poke at ‘em? Keep ‘em on their toes? Summon a monster to spy on ‘em?”
Vexor surprised him with his reply. “Tend to Jara, and do not allow her to go near the children or wherever they may haunt.”
The big green beast tilted his head some. “Did I hear that right?”
His tone turned grave. “Saberizer was not a piece easily used or expected to be lost. We can't recover from that lightly or quickly. So let us avoid further losses. Until I have the Scabs Noxic will build me, we are to stay well out of trouble with the Beetleborgs, the Butterfly, or their allies.”
Vexor was planning something large and elaborate, Typhus realized, but on the bright side he was giving him and Jara a vacation to prepare for it. As long as Jara could get the rest she needed and a chance to recover from her loss, he didn’t care whatever it was he had in mind, really. With a nod, he walked over to Jara’s side.
“You don’t need to tell me twice, baby.” He placed a hand on Jara’s shoulder–she didn’t even respond to the stimulation–and looked over at Noxic. “Hey, Noxic. You got room for two more?”
“Sure, but I gotta warn ya, it’s a real dump!” With a laugh, Noxic folded his arms, nodded, and all three of them left.
Alone in his candlelit crypt, Vexor flowed over to his partially opened sarcophagus and picked up the copy of The Big Bad Beetleborgs used to summon the latest round of Scabs and fighters. He then looked in the sarcophagus, where the other books they’d used to summon Monsters and Scabs now lay and tossed the latest book onto it. They were useless now, but at the very least they were fantastic reads.
He personally thought the author caught him perfectly as a menacing threat to reality.
At some point, very soon, he would like to meet Arthur Fortunes, and thank him personally for such a flattering portrayal.
A sick, screeching laugh left Vexor’s throat.
“XASYR TMLUC FBQJQ KFWWJ MGLAP YJGYO WTIPV IFMHS SGEWZ PBONG DPBCR KZBFH.”
And that laughter echoed through the crypt.
= - = 51 = - =
Volume 5 of Legends, End.
