CHAPTER 5: SHRAPNEL OF WAR
Hasith glared at the two little demons before him, and the glowing matrix of Uncle Joe. Everything in him tensed to attack, but it would do little good now. Soon enough, the green lights flickered to yellow, then amber, and finally to red as the systems overloaded.
“What have you done?” He asked. The air felt off.
“You’re done for, old man,” Akan said. Achan finished for her. “With this, we have the whole army flooding in as we speak. And, as a final measure.” She keyed the 'Enter’ button and gestured to Hasith. “Exit, pursued by the righteous.”
Hasith felt like water rising up from his toes towards his waist, but as he looked down, Hasith saw something much more terrifying. The administrator's body was disappearing.
“But, how?” He grunted while struggling to lunge forward.
“You admins are annoying. Buh-bye!” Achan said, grinning too widely for her face. With a snap of her finger, Hasith dissipated into data, banned from the system.
“Great timing,” Akan said, giving a sarcastic slow clap. “Very dramatic.”
“Thank you.”
https://youtu.be/jGvYaMIXuxU The air in MangaRaiders began to stir. Static electricity built up and began discharging haphazardly. The system was not designed to handle the numbers is was about to see. 4Kids’ invasion was coming in at full force, and MR was doing all it could to welcome them with open arms. The bringers of war had arrived.
They came in waves.
Ammunition, anti-aircraft guns, assault rifles, armoured vehicles, auto-cannons!
Ballistic missiles, bayonets, bazookas, biological weapons, blades, body armor, bombs, bullets!
Cannons, carbines, clubs, communication officers, cutlasses!
Daggers, depth charges, dynamite!
Elite guards, expeditionary forces, explosives!
Field medics, firearms, flails, flamethrowers!
Gatling guns, grenades, grenade launchers, guided missiles, gun powder!
Halftracks, hardened barriers, heat seeking weapons, helicopters, high altitude surveillance!
Identification cards, ignition systems, implosion devices, infantry, infirmaries!
Jamming devices, jet packs, jet propelled rockets, jump jets!
Kalashnikovs, key documents, knives!
Lances, landing craft, landmines, lieutenants!
Mace, machetes, machine guns, magnums, missiles, mortars, munitions!
Nerve gas, night vision goggles, nuclear reactors!
Officers, official stationary, ordnance depots, oxygen tanks!
Paratroopers, pepper spray, pickaxes, pikes, pistols, poison!
Quadrant maps, quartermasters, quarterstaffs!
Rapiers, revolvers, rifles, rocket launchers!
Sabers, semi-automatics, shells, shotguns, snipers, special forces, stun rods, submachine guns, switchblades!
Tanks, tasers, tear gas, torpedos, tripwires, truncheons!
Ultraviolet cameras, uniforms, underground sonar, underwater explosives, uzis!
Valuables, variant soldiers, vehicles!
Warheads, watercraft, weapons grade elements, whips!
Xenological pathogens, XO's, X-ray goggles!
Yearning warriors, yield estimators, yowling hoards!
Zealots, zeppelins, zone defenses!
150,000 fighting men and women descended upon the city. MangaRaiders was completely overrun, and it had taken less than two minutes.
One zealot in particular stepped up to a microphone. Narcissus was rapidly descending towards the ground in his airdropped transport. He would be commanding the troops on the ground, while the General kept watch above. The major had requested permission to address the troops, and he had received it. Soon they would be encased in the noises of war. Now was the time. Narcissus's address reached the ears of every 4Kids soldier.
“Warriors of 4Kids, a great day is upon us! Today, this city of sin and debauchery, which has tread upon our righteous path for years, will have marred our vision for the last time! My good people, we have fought long and hard for this day! We have forged through a hundred adversaries, and we shall conquer a hundred more! But this day, this day we bring war to MangaRaiders! Let loose your blades! Let fly your bullets! Bring war to MangaRaiders, like nothing they have ever seen! ALL HAIL 4KIDS!”
The first salvos were fired as the broadcast finished. MangaRaiders, was now the house of war.
MR City’s central park exploded with the sudden weight of an entire 4kids’ battalion. They appeared with such numbers that they expanded past the park, and many soldiers piled into the streets and on rooftops, all at attention and ready for the order to march from their respective commanders.
Such a vast addition did not go unnoticed, of course. Word travelled quickly of the near sonic boom of jackboots hitting the dirt, and many combat seasoned raiders converged for battle in this new arena.
Manimal was not one such raider, per se. He had simply been lounging around the park, strumming his guitar and coming up with his next great hit to fling onto the radio waves. The sudden burst of people around him painted a smile on his face. He wasn't sure what was going on, but he couldn't waste an audience. Thankfully, His guitar was already plugged into a portable amp. All he had to do was turn it up.
The sudden interference caused the surrounding portion of the army to flinch from the screech in their earsets.
“You guys look like trouble,” Manimal said, still sporting a goofy grin. He rested his fingers on the fret and strummed a simple chord. “But, let’s see if you can handle my treble!”
In an instant, his fingers flew over the strings, strumming like a madman. Between the interference with their radio systems and Manimal's ability to jam, the raider rendered all soldiers within earshot all but useless. Some of them even began to headbang or pogo jump against their will.
“Yeah!” Manimal sang out. “Guess who’s the Master of Puppets now!?”
One of the nearest 4Kids commanders grit his teeth. He punched a few numbers on his radio. “Mayday, this is Sergeant Jefferson from ground squad 33! Our forces are under attack! We landed near a hero raider. It’s ‘The Manimal’. Send reinforcements!”
From a nearby rooftop, a small squad received the mayday.
“Copy sergeant! This is weapons squad 12! Sending assistance!” replied its commander. He turned to one of his soldiers. “Prep the RPG. Aim for the raider’s amplifier.”
“Roger!” The soldier gave a quick salute as he set about his task. He kneeled and pieced together his weapon. Within moments, he was ready.
“FIRE!”
Of course, Manimal saw the smoke of the grenade approaching, but knew he wouldn't have time to save everything. “Frick!” he muttered. Manimal yanked his guitar free of the amplifier and leapt aside, toppling over some of his dancing puppets. The amplifier and the bench he had been sitting on were blasted to dust and powder by the explosion.
“Hey, man! That equipment cost a lot of money!” The raider yelled, shaking his fist in the direction of the artillery emplacement. Around him, the soldiers shook their heads as if to free themselves from the last bit of ringing in their ears. Manimal looked around, and the weight of his situation dawned on him. He was surrounded. A sweatdrop formed on his forehead and dripped onto his ax. “Uh oh…”
Coryn and Lego had not been made moderators because they could fight. They could, of course. The ability to battle MangaRaiders’ foes was indeed a prerequisite, but that was not why they were selected for duty.
Lego and Coryn were moderators because they were kind. Because they loved, truly loved, those they called family. Because they could tell right from wrong. Because they could be relied on to do the right thing even when it hurt. Even when it felt wrong at the time.
But while many met those requirements, there was one more that truly determined whether or not one could be called to serve.
People were not chosen because they
could kill.
You were chosen because if you had to, you
would.
Sirens went off as soon as 4Kids hit the ground. Warnings went out on automated systems to phones and communicators. Lego heard them, even deep in the maze.
There was no more time left to deal with the hackers.
Lego was still lost, but that wasn't going to be a problem for much longer. He pulled a small device from his pocket and wedged it into his ear. Lego flicked the small switch on its surface, and spoke to anyone who could listen. “All raiders in proximity to MR Tower. Moderator is en route. Get out of the way.”
Frantic responses came in over the comms, but he only listened close enough to know that no one was about to get killed. Lego closed his eyes, and went deep. The powers of a moderator were great, but they exacted a toll. Not just physical, but psychological. If you didn't prepare yourself, it became easy for innocents to get caught in the crossfire.
Lego opened his eyes. “Move!”
A flash of light, and Lego was out of the maze. A flash of light, and Lego was in the sky above the city.
Below him, MR was already burning.
Lego could see long columns of troops pushing their way through the city streets. The late afternoon sun highlighted it all in sharp relief. Armoured vehicles crashed through buildings, troops advanced along the roads, jets roared over head. Occasionally there were signs of resistance, but... Lego had taken it all in with a glance. They were outgunned and outmanned. An unstoppable force was upon them. It was going to be a dark day for MR, no matter how this battle went.
At least, Lego thought, he could make it a little bit brighter.
The tattoos on his arms began to snake. The femtomachines which comprised them began to fill up his hand. First a hilt, then a blade, and then a point. He had opted for a dai-katana. And as gravity took hold, Lego raised it above his head. “Get out…!” The air around him became charged as he fell. Long strands of blue plasma were drawn out of the atmosphere, and attached themselves to his blade. Lego's sword became a pillar of crackling lighting, and as he neared the ground, he aimed for the nearest group of soldiers he could find.
They hadn't noticed him until far too late.
“OF MY CITY!” Howled Lego as he hit the plaza outside of MR Tower. Where once there was a pillar of lightning, there was now an explosion of charged particles. Where once there was a 4Kids squad, there was only ash.
Now Lego had their full attention.
4Kids surged, and Lego met them with an open palm. “Remove!” The rushing men froze in their tracks, long before they ever reached their target. Lego squeezed his hand into a fist, and then, the soldiers began to move backwards. Faces twisted in agony as the men watched themselves reenact their own movements in reverse, as they watched their very histories be erased. While it was excruciating to live through, Lego knew it would not kill them. He wished that it could wipe away their very existence, but he could only take them back so far. Especially when it was so many people at once. Still, it would have to do. He needed space. He needed time.
Lego’s palms hit the paving stones. “Move!” Before him, and then spreading out in a complete encirclement of MR Tower, grew a wall. The concrete and stone of the outer plaza was subsumed, and fed into the rising fortification. In short order, he had a fifty foot wall a yard thick, and 4Kids had a ditch to conquer before they could even think about mounting an attack on the barricade itself.
At least, the ground troops did. The air cavalry wouldn’t have that problem.
Lego could already see the helicopters incoming from within his fortress. With his free hand, he poured his machines into the ground. They worked their way up and through the wall, and from there sprouted jagged metal spikes.
The moderator directed his dai-katana like a conductor’s baton. Lighting shot from the pointed protrusions. Helicopters burst into flame and dropped from the sky like flies. For each one destroyed however, two more seemed to takes its place. As hard as Lego was pushing the enemy, they were without a doubt closing in on him.
One of the flyers finally broke through his line. Lego sighted it just as a soldier fired a grenade launcher out of the open side door. Two canisters hurtled towards the air at Lego, and he was too slow to stop them. Just as they impacted, Lego dropped down to shield himself from the blast. But instead of the fire and shrapnel that Lego expected, all he was met with was a burst of thick, black dust. The dust filled the air, and hung suspended. It darkened the sky above him, but Lego could still see the helicopter that had launched the weapon. “Missed me!”
Lego stabbed forward with his sword, full of intent to send a bolt of lighting through the flying machine. He only managed to shoot a few arcs of plasma less than a foot before the energy had completely dissipated. The moderator recoiled as he realized the effect the black dust was having on his lighting. But he had no time to ponder it. Through the cloud he could hear boots hitting the ground as soldiers repelled down. Whatever came next. Lego would have to deal with it through muscle and steel alone.
Narcissus had set up his command post in the Artists District. The spot was farther from the city center than it was close to it, but at this distance the buildings were low enough that he could take in the whole of the combat theater with the naked eye.
The whole operation was set up on an elevated platform which traveled on a massive pair of tank treads. Computer stations were set up in the open air, and Narcissus conducted the war from a holographic table at the center of it all. Elite troops ringed the station on all sides. They moved in careful step with the mobile command center, such that it was never without protection.
In this moment however, Narcissus paid the goings on around him no heed. His attentions were completely given over to the glowing map before him, and the radio in his ear, which had just connected to its target. “Agent Akan, this is Major Narcissus. Would you kindly explain to me why I am receiving reports of moderator powers being used in the vicinity MR Tower.” He was not yelling, but he put so much venom into his speech that he could hear Akan shiver on the other end of the line.
“Sir, Joe was only designed to control registrations. I can only revoke moderator powers by using him as a backdoor. It already overtaxed the system to register the chorus and flag the administrators as threats. So it's taking longer than expected to deal with the mods.”
Narcissus was about to scold her, but something else caught his eye. The command station was facing a long thoroughfare, and the major had been using it to peer deep into the city. It had been bare since the combat had started. Now, however, Narcissus could see a lone figure approaching his platform.
A lone figure in a long white coat.
Narcissus said. “I suggest you hurry along then.” Before cutting the connection to Akan, and turning to the technicians around him. “Where is Sken’s search and destroy squad relative to our position?”
“Fifteen minutes northeast sir!” Shouted a woman.
“Hmm…” Pondered Narcissus. “Too far out.” He reached down to the table’s controls, and input a very specific code into the console. “In the meantime, Captain.” Narcissus returned to his full height, and addressed an officer at the other end of the table. “Lead your troops against Sken, will you. I expect you to hold out until reinforcements arrive.
The captain snapped a salute. “Sir! Yes Sir!”
The lower ranking officer leapt from the command station, gathered the men around it, and charged their opponent. Meanwhile, Narcissus strolled up to the front railing to take in the carnage.
Coryn had been progressing at a steady rate ever since he had emerged from the Science Division to find his city being invaded. The bulk of the fighting was taking place downtown, but he had found few commanders. And so he asked the question: ‘If I were 4Kids leadership, where would I be?’.
He had found his answer, and his answer had found him. Which explained the onrushing troops.
The soldiers formed orderly rows as they advanced, forming a tight line across the road. Men in front fired rifles as and machine guns, only to fall back through the lines to allow those behind to fire another volley. Before the bullets could reach him, Coryn formed a shield bubble around his body. The hunks of lead smashed into and deformed against the translucent energy field, only to fall harmlessly to the ground. Coryn allowed each row to fire before his started his counter attack.
It was the only way to be fair.
The shield bubble shrunk. The shield bubble sank. Coryn leapt onto its surface, and barreled into the oncoming troops with a war cry.
Some he launched into walls with well placed shield orbs. Others he sent flying across the skyline by hand with moderator enhanced strength. Still others he simply crushed beneath the bubble that he rode.
Before Coryn could decimate the men, buildings on his left and right exploded as a massive pair of armored tanks charged through them. The one on Coryn’s right was quicker, and launched a shell before he could get out of the way. Coryn flipped in the air, and absorbed the blast with his shield, but it caused the energy bubble to burst, and the moderator was sent to the ground. He raised his head just in time to see the second tank preparing to fire a round at point blank range. But its gunner never got the chance. Coryn raised a hand to the machine of war. “Split!”
A white hot line sliced through the tank’s center. A second after that the machine exploded, sending two equal halves flying across the street. Coryn righted himself completely, and caught the second tank in a shield bubble of its own. Coryn lifted them into the air with a jolt. The turret swung wildly as the men inside were thrown out of their seats . Inside the tank the pilots experienced utter confusion, but they would not be confused for long. Coryn clenched his fist, and collapsed the shield
Metal shrieked as the tank folded in upon itself. Those inside were crushed in an instant, and if that hadn’t killed them, they perished a second later as the weapon of war exploded.
By now the original soldiers Coryn was engaged with had regained their momentum, and were advancing once again. Instead of letting them, Coryn slapped his palms together. “Merge!”
From’s Narcissus’s point of view, Coryn disappeared almost instantly. After that however, he had a front row view as the buildings on both sides of the street rushed forward and slammed together in the center of the road with an ear splitting boom. It was like watching a zipper, except at the end of it, Narcissus would have to think about what happened to the troops which had been in the street before the two sides had become one.
The buildings continued merging until the pavement ended and the park began. And then for a moment, all was silent.
Breaking that silence, was the sight of of Coryn leaping over the newly formed city block, only to land on a fresh shield orb some twenty feet in the air. “I will now accept your surrender!”
With the soldiers gone, the technicians operating the control center needed no further prompting to cut and run. Narcissus however, stood at ease while all behind him ran off into the twilight. Instead of cowering, he couldn’t help but grin. “Coryn Sken! A pleasure to make your acquaintance! I am Major Narcissus of the Lost Chorus! I trust that you have found killing my men enjoyable?”
He just had to hold out for a few moments longer.
Coryn replied. “I’m not in the business of killing for sport, major. I trust you understand the difference?”
Narcissus chuckled. “It is not my business to care Sken. Whether or not I understand is besides the point entirely! But I am not so sure of your statement Sken! Perhaps you just finally have an opportunity to work out pent up stress?”
The moderator scowled at the major. Coryn raised his hand, and above his head formed a massive, dreadful, black ball of energy. The power of deletion,which few on MR could claim to possess, was about to be on full display. “Don’t test me.”
“I would never dream of it Sken! I not here to serve as proctor. In fact, I only have one, single task in this moment.”
“And what’s that?” Asked Coryn.
Narcissus’s smirk turned into a wide smile. “I’m distracting you!”
Above Coryn’s head, the deletion orb popped like a balloon. A cold shiver ran down Coryn’s spine as he felt his moderator status drain from his body. It wasn’t like when he ventured out of MangaRaiders. That he could prepare for. That he could understand. This was like having a part of your soul stripped away. It was like walking into your own home, only to find that a stranger had emptied of all your things. But it was now only a cold emptiness that he felt. He had lived without moderator powers before, but this was a new sensation entirely. It was like a hole in the center of his being.
But that hole wasn’t caused by the loss of his abilities. No, Coryn had lived without them before. This wasn’t that. The true cause was just now edging into the corners of Coryn’s mind. His shock at one thing was blinding him to the truth of another. And he was about to pay the price for it.
Coryn’s eyes widened as he realized the danger he was in. It was too late however. Before Coryn could even turn his head. A red blur smashed into him from the sky above. The once-moderator of MangaRaiders was driven into the ground. Pavement, dirt, and stone shattered around him. Coryn found himself at the bottom of a crater, a hand digging into his neck, and a heavy weight upon his chest.
Coryn blinked his eyes to clear the dirt that had fallen into them. He saw a blood-red uniform, similar to the one Narcissus wore. Above Coryn was a face that he knew. White hair, a red stripe through it. Wild, yellow eyes. It took a moment for full recognition to hit him, but when it did, Coryn shuddered in fear. He shuddered at the memories of what that face had done to his city. What that face had done to him. “C-Kret?!”
The white haired man atop him smiled. “Nah~! Not C-Kret! You can call me R-Kain! And let me assure you. I will finish what my brother was too weak to!”
A special operations platoon had been given express orders to search for and destroy the MangaRaiders Fighters Division. They were armed to the teeth with the most powerful weaponry 4Kids had at its disposal, including reverse-engineered technology from other hostile takeovers. Along their war path, they left nothing, and any civilian resistance met with fire, toppled buildings, war debris, and terror. It didn’t matter that the element of surprise was past. It had served its purpose. Every section the platoon cleared left a weak point for the rest of the army to exploit. Occupation was only a matter of time, especially with the administrators out of the way.
Greentrap sat atop a rooftop, binoculars in hand. “They’re getting close, Coach,” she said.
Fronomenal’s voice crackled through. “Good. Let them get a little closer, then strike ‘em hard. We’ll be right behind you.”
Anxiety gripped the frog-like raider’s chest, but she nodded. “10-4.”
Winter wind whipped her uniform. The ground rumbled, and another building toppled over the roadway, sending a plume of smoke up in its place. Many such pillars of smoke littered the twilight horizon. Greentrap hesitated, then lifted the binoculars back to her eyes. Another low rumble drew her attention to the building’s debris. It had struck one of the highway bridges, and under the added weight, the supports cracked and groaned in protest. Greentrap pressed her lips together and trembled. This place was her home, and it broke her heart to see an enemy tearing through it. The aftermath of the Great Raids was one thing, but this…She turned her attention to the soldiers, some in tanks below, others in small aircraft above, and still others on foot throughout.
“Target in sight. There are more than we expected,” She said into the walkie.
“All right,” Fro said, “Attack at will.”
If will had anything to do with it, Greentrap thought, she’d have forced herself awake from this nightmare hours ago.
The tank launched a heavy missile, and certainly not for the first time that day. Still, much to the army’s disgust, the bizarre skeleton man jumped to the side, moving as though dancing through the soldiers. It wasn’t that his simple sword caused them much damage so much as his striking movements annoyed the commander of Special Operations Division 13. The so-called 'death squad’ sat at a standstill with this member of the Fighter’s Division.
“You know,” the Fortis Scripter hummed, “This reminds me of the battle of Wizna. The Polish villagers were far outnumbered by German troops, but—whoops!” He hefted to the side as a soldier came at him with a rifle butt.
“Curse him,” Growled the commander. The officer couldn’t tell if this buffoon was simply a distraction from the greater Fighter Division or not. But diversion or not, the fact that his ranks had been broken wounded his pride. Despite the discipline and training of all his soldiers, the skeleton raider’s movements, combined with the tight quarters assault, had led to nothing but sheer pandemonium.
Fortis tapped a communicator strapped to his upper ribs. “You know, Greentrap, backup would be appreciated any time. Confusion only holds a good army back for so long.”
From her station on the rooftops, Greentrap let out a sigh and rested a hand over her heart. She knew he was right. Fear had paralyzed her. She could feel Coach Fro’s disappointed gaze bearing down on her. The combination had rendered her unable to even contemplate what was about to happen. “Roger,” She said.
Greentap stepped forward, but did not commit. She let her foot hang half off the edge of the roof. The soldiers were almost below her. They would spot her soon. Only the mass confusion Fortis had instilled prevented her from having already been discovered. Greentrap blew out a puff of mist with her breath and shifted her weight. With a forced calm, she went over the ledge.
Between the force of gravity and careful training, her frog-like abilities allowed her to stick to the building. Greentrap broke into a run, and Newton fed her momentum. When she reached the first floor, she kicked off, hard, and changed her center of gravity to land on the road and keep running.
“Blast it! Another one?!” Howled a soldier. She pointed her gun at the new target. A stream of gunfire followed the raider as Greentrap leapt onto an adjacent building and back down.
Super agility kept Greentrap out of the way of manual weapons, but a red dot appeared on her suit. A tank operator broke into a grin amidst the glowing lights of the state-of-the-art machine. Information on the raider appeared across his screens. Greentrap’s abilities wouldn’t keep her safe for very long.
“Uh, Coach,” She said, keeping two fingers to her earpiece, “I don’t think this will work for very long. Please hurry!”
From a nearby underground computer station (courtesy of the Science Division), Eukocar received all radio transmissions from the surrounding area. He kept running the calculations in his head, and each time, the chance of victory never got much higher than seven percent. He tapped the button on his own walkie. “She’s right, ‘Allenatore’. You’ve gotta get in there now!”
Eukocar never heard the response. A loud crash behind him pulled him away from his surveillance screens. “Huh?!”
The muzzle of at least half a dozen guns met his face. Eukocar’s stomach dropped out of his shoes, but his heart pounded in his ears. He tried to calculate his own survival if he were to fight his way out, but all he saw were grim results. Slowly, he showed his palms and raised his trembling hands. One of the soldiers pointed to his earpiece with the gun muzzle, then motioned to the side. Eukocar gulped, and with one hand, removed his headset and placed it on the table beside him. He made sure to press the send button as hard as he could, to try and break it into staying on.
“Surveillance station secure,” The lead soldier said. “Raider Eukocar, captured. Bloodless surrender.”
Eukocar grit his teeth as a blush of shame seared his face. He prayed that his ‘Allenatore’ would forgive him for this.
What the Italian could not have known, was that his message came through loud and clear. Upon hearing it, Greentrap lost her concentration. She stumbled over her own feet, knocking herself off the building she’d been running along. Fortis froze mid-swing of his sword. Fro pumped his legs harder and launched himself over a highway railing, forming a crater under himself as he landed on the far side. “Understood. Cease radio coms,” The coach said. A hint of sadness touched his voice.
“Major threat detected,” The 4Kids computers sounded. Auto-lock features activated, the red dots on Greentrap spun around to the afroed figure in the crater behind the platoon.
“All right, let’s do this,” Fronomenal said, plucking the radio device from his ears. He tossed it to the side and charged forward.
What made Fro such a dangerous raider wasn’t that he was super strong or extremely fast. No. Though he excelled in both categories, those weren’t the selling points of his abilities. What Fro possessed was options. An infinite amount of them. For every problem he faced he had a hair strand to solve it. His hair magic knew no limits, and that alone made him a nightmare to deal with.
As Fro charged forward, bullets were coming fast and heavy. A phalanx of 4Kids troopers formed thick lines in front of the heavy tank. Fro bobbed and weaved in between rounds, paying the soldiers no mind. The soldiers were just a distraction. The tank is what the coach kept his sights on.
The tank operator’s screen display zeroed in on the afro haired bull. Dots and circles aligned in focus on Fro’s frame and a ‘locked on’ message flashed in red.“Target is locked on. Firing missile!” The operator yanked back his trigger.
With a beep the tank fired its missile and the ground shook upon launch. The projectile tore through the air as it flew past with a deafening sonic boom. Fro summoned a swarm of hair tendrils as it neared him. He grinned.
Boom! Artillery and hair collided, and the result was a pillar shaped explosion. Flames were focused upward by the nearby buildings. They soon fell to their demise from the impact, and the blasted flooded into the newly open space. Asphalt cracked and flung into the air. Smoke clouded the area and flames latched on to anything they could. The platoon waited on alert to witness the aftermath.
A soldier stepped forward with impatience. “Hey, did we...”
Another soldier behind him was staring hard at the smoke. For a second he saw movement from within. Shadows danced on the inside. “Wait, hold there’s something going on in there!”
The words came too late, for the shadows emerged before the others could react. Hair tendrils pierced through the dust and spiraled quickly towards the platoon. Bullets were fired in response, but their protestations were ignored. The tendrils smacked away all incoming fire and swooped in on the soldiers. Ankles were roped, and bodies were snatched away. One by one soldiers screamed as they were dragged towards the smoke. The ones who weren’t began to retreat for safety, while braver souls held their ground and continued to fire. The would be snatched away to their doom moments later.
The tank operator panicked as he glared at the messy scene on his display. His features expressed fear, but he did his best to betray it. The soldier gritted his teeth and pulled on his joystick to hone on the center of the giant smoke cloud. His thumb itched with the intention of firing, but he held off. The tendrils had ceased their movements and the smoke was beginning to clear. His heart throbbed with anxiety and fear, but and inner voice told him to wait. To find his moment to strike.
Hesitating would be the worst decision he would ever make.
When the smoke finally dissipated, Fro appeared. He stood atop of a building sized hairball, composed of not just hair, but the bodies of fallen soldiers. Their lifeless limbs stuck out of its surface, providing a ghastly display for those who continued to resist. Fro waved his hand as if to invite the tank commander to look at the raider’s creation. “Got a present for ya, homie!”
Fro flipped off the tangled with a kick that launched the hairball with a thunderous noise. The careening hairball closed in, and the tank operator’s targeting system locked on. With sweat pouring down his face, the crewman fired his missile, but it was only met with air. The tumbling ball had bounced up just before collision, avoiding the missle completely. The tank operator’s display screen was swallowed by the incoming mass. He screamed. “No!”
The hairball slammed into the machine accompanied by the screech of metal and the squish of bodies. Its momentum carried the ball along with the tank caught in its hairy grip. It bounced once, further down the street, and crashed into a low building. Upon impact, The tank burst into flames and fireworks of unexploded shells followed a moment later. Pieces of destroyed hardware were flung into the sky and smoke engulfed the surrounding area.
Fortis and Greentrap, who had been watching from the sidelines reunited with their coach. For the moment, things had seemed to had calmed down. Fro turned around to greet his trainees as they approached. “You two alright?”
“Yeah, thanks to you, ribbit. Greentrap said. “I just wish you would’ve gotten here sooner.”
Fortis nodded in agreement. “Indeed. Things were beginning to look grim for us, Coach. We’re lucky that you showed up when you did.”
For a moment, Fro’s mouth twitched as if it wanted to smile, but he couldn’t hide the sadness spelled out on his face. While Fro was dealing with the platoon, he had felt something nagging at him. It was disturbing. A feeling of despair, almost. He had no way of knowing for sure, but Fro’s friends were falling. Fro’s family was fallin. And MangaRaiders was falling with them. It might have been his paranoia, but there was no denying the vibes he was getting. He looked away from the two and stared down the street. “I need you two to get outa’ here and find Filia while you’re at it. I haven’t seen her since this whole thing started and I’m starting to worry.”
“And what of you, Coach?” Fortis asked with a hint of a concern.
“I’m staying here. I have a feeling reinforcements will be swarming here soon, and I want to give ‘em a proper greeting when they show up. You two need to get out while you still can. I don’t want you staying behind on my account.”
Greentrap stepped forward. “But wouldn’t it make more sense for us to stick together? This is getting too dangerous for us to split up! But if you’re leading the charge, Coach, we can win, I think...”
An awkward breeze brushed past the trio. Fro remained silent.
“Coach?”
Fortis groaned depressingly. “When the Coach said he was staying here, he did not mean this particular area. He means the city itself. He wants us to escape without him…”
The frog girl’s eyes nearly popped. “What?! Are you crazy you stupid human?! And why would we do that?”
“Because that’s an order frog-face!” Proclaimed Fro.
“And I’m telling you that’s stupid!” Greentrap’s voice was beginning to grow hoarse. Emotion filled her lungs. “If you’re going to stay here and fight, then we’re fighting with you!
“Greentrap…” Fro uttered with bubbling rage.
“That’s one of the rules, remember? Rule number two of the MR Fighters Division: Never abandon a teammate under any circumstance. You came up with that, didn’t you?!”
Fro’s voice exploded with anger. “Rule number two hundred and forty seven of the MR Fighter’s Division: The Coach is always the exception!”
“Coach!”
“Rule number four of the MR Fighter’s Division: Always listen to the Coach!”
A silence befell Greentrap. The Coach’s words made her tremble with disbelief. “But Coach…”
“Rule number six of the MR Fighter’s Division: When the Coach says go, you freaking go already!”
At this point, Fro was just shouting numbers. He couldn’t remember if they were right or not. He didn’t care. Fro was dealing with a double sided realization. Not only was his home about to fall to an invading army, but Fortis and Greentrap were only fighting that army because it was what he had trained them to do. It was all he had wanted. To ensure that MangaRaiders was well defended. That its inhabitants would not be defenseless.
It was only now that he understood what an awful thing it is to send a friend to war.
Back in the moment, Fortis placed a comforting hand on the frog’s shoulder. “Come Greentrap. Let us go. The Coach still has his pride. It would be best to let him keep it.”
Tears nearly fell down Greentrap cheeks, but she shook them off. “Stupid human…” She muttered under her breath. Together with Fortis, she pulled away. Once enough distance was created, the pair turned, and ran off into distance. Before long they disappeared around a street corner, and Fronomenal was left alone.
Fro looked down in shame as his trainees left him alone. He couldn’t tell them truth. That there was no chance of winning. MangaRaiders was outmatched in every way imaginable. Winning was a fool’s dream at this point. His students had to survive. Escaping was the only option the raiders had left, but Fro couldn’t say it openly. He would be a bad leader if he said something so devoid of hope, Fro thought.. But to push those who cared about him so deeply away was even worse. He sighed. “Some Coach I am…”
Then, Fro heard footsteps behind him. They were loud and heavy, as if another squad of soldiers was approaching. He turned and waited, hands squished into raging balls of his fist. He may have known that escape was the most logical decision, but his pride did not allow himself that option. MangaRaiders was his home. He was willing to die on his feet for it. Whatever force making their way around the corner were going feel a wrath that no man could withstand.
What came around, however, wasn’t a platoon. In fact, it was barely a full squad. A group of thirteen bodies slowly marched around the corner and towards Fro. Twelve of the soldiers wore gask masks and thickly layered dark-red uniforms. Each was had a sleekly designed rifle nestled in their hands. The individual in front, however, was a woman who stood out amongst her followers. She dressed in a nun’s habit, and walked with a limp. A cane assisted her movements, but she was setting a quick pace. From afar, Fro had pegged her to be an older woman, but as she neared the features of a much younger woman became apparent. A nun, a young one at that, surrounded by a group of heavily armed soldiers. Fro didn’t bother making sense of it.
The group came to a halt, and the woman took a few more steps ahead of the pack. Fro stared her down like a hawk on the wing. The woman, on the other hand, was at ease. She had a persistent smile about her. A smile that was so heartwarming that it seemed sinister. Indeed, she smiled with her mouth, but not with her eyes. “Are you the young man that goes by the name ‘Fronomenal’?” She spoke rather softly
“And if I am?” Asked the raider.
“Ah, so you are him then. How delightful!” The nun bowed. “Allow me to properly introduce myself. My name is Mother Pisti, and I am the leader of the Sinner Extermination Unit, a specialized assault unit in the Lost Chorus! These men behind me are my children.” Pisti turned towards her men. “Now now my sweets, do not be so shy. Say hello to the young man.”
The soldiers all bowed respectfully at the command. “It’s a pleasure meet you, Mr. Fronomenal.” The unit said in unison.
Fro shook his head. “Why do I always gotta deal with the weirdos…”
“It is impolite to refer to someone you do not yet know as weird, Mr. Fronomenal.” Said Pisti, as she turned back around.
“And I think it’s impolite of you 4Kids punks coming into my city and destroying everything.”
Pisti said. “Fair enough, Perhaps. Although, impoliteness on our behalf is warranted. After all, you are all sinners, and thus must be properly punished.”
Fro snapped a finger, and hair tendrils spiraled out of his back at the command. “And I’m guessing you’re gonna make me atone for my sins?”
Finally, Pisti’s smile faded. In its place was a deep, disconcerting frown. “Yes, however, blood doesn't necessarily have to be spilled in this case.” Pisti extended her hand. “Come, my child. Join us. It is not too late to go down the righteous path. Surrender peacefully, and I will ensure that all of your sins will be forgiven and atoned for.”
Fro scoffed. “You got some nerve, offering me some B.S. like that! Thinking I’m gonna just turn my back on my city! If you’re trying to me piss me off, then congratulations, you did a good job!” Fro launched himself forward, hair tendrils flailing about in attack mode.
Pisiti shook her head in disappointment. “Such a shame…” She raised a hand. “Children.”
Four soldiers jumped in front of her. “Yes, Mother!” They said as they readied their weapons. The soldiers squeezed their triggers and searing waves of flame sprayed from the muzzles of their rifles. Shocked, Fro skidded to a stop and flipped backwards just before the flames reached him. But even as he landed the flames were still coming. Debris caught in the fire’s trail was lit up in blazing glory. The flames fed off of everything in its way, and soon walls of fire rose upwards from the street. Fro was trapped in the growing inferno.
The raider gritted his teeth and spat. He could feel the burning heat against his skin. His hair tendrils submitted to the scorching temperature. They broke off, and writhed on the ground until they disintegrated into ash. “A fire squad, huh? Just my luck.”
Fire served as his chief weakness. Fro could deal with intense heat momentarily, but a persistent flame spelled doom. Fro retracted into a defensive position, but even as the flames continued to burn, he could see Pisti’s annoying smile through the burning veil. She spoke. “As you may have guessed by now, my children and I were specially assigned to deal with you Mr. Fronomenal. We are a hard counter to your abilities, Mr. Fronomenal. A head on confrontation will not play out in your favor.”
“These flames ain’t gonna stop me from knocking your heads off!” Fro growled.
“Oh come now, you are just being stubborn. You are smart enough to know that you have no chance of winning. Please, won’t you reconsider my proposal?”
Fro shouted. “Screw off!”
Pisti lowered her head. “I guess it can not be helped then.” She turned her head towards her men. “Children, bring her forth, please.”
The soldiers saluted in response. “Right away, Mother!”
“Her?” Fro said, raising a brow. The flames threatening to burn him alive made it a hard to think, but he couldn’t help but to speculate. Another soldier, perhaps? The thought of that possibility and many others like it leapt to his mind. But he did not have to ponder for long. The ‘her’ in question came into view as bodies shuffled to the side. A small, young girl with silver hair was being hauled roughly by a soldier to the front of the group. Her big silver eyes shimmered with fear and distress and her head was lowered. The poor girl looked absolutely terrified. Fro immediately recognized the young girl and called out to her. “Fillia!” He roared, voice burning with concern.
Pisti walked to Fillia’s side and placed a hand on her trembling shoulders. “We found her giving a couple of our troops a hard time. She put up a bit of a fight at first, but surrendered upon realizing the danger you all are in.”
Fro ran forward on instinct to break through the flaming gates that held him at bay. Every step tore at him as Fro pushed his way through the tongues of fire. The flames were thick, much thicker than he had anticipated. Orange plasma charred his flesh. Hot gasses poured down his throat and nostrils. Fro thought of nothing except the other side of the fire wall. Finally, he cleared the flame’s reach, and nothing stood between the raider and Pisti. This act however, was not without consequence. Fro fell on his knees, having suffered internal and external burns to an extreme degree. Human beings were not built to be engulfed in flame, and agonizing pain would soon rack his body. Fro could feel himself slipping into shock, and slammed a fist into the ground in protest. “I’ll swear to God if you hurt her I’ll-”
Fro pushed himself to stand, but Pisti interrupted him mid way. “Now now, don’t go swearing to the Lord in vain. After all, my beliefs will not allow me to hurt this innocent little girl. Then again...” Pisiti paused, and as she did so, the soldier standing next to Filia stuck the muzzle of his weapon against her head. Pisti continued, performing strange and elaborate motions with her free hand as she spoke. “My beliefs do not hold up well within the confines of war.”
“Bitch!”
Fro was gonna move. He was gonna storm up to Pisti and her children and beat the holy hell out of them. But he couldn’t.
“
What…”
It hadn’t registered right away, but something was holding him still, and it was burning like crazy.
“
Why can’t I move?”
He looked down at his feet and saw a pair of flames wrapped tightly around his ankles. Fro followed the source of the flames, and found they were attached to the still present flames burning behind him. Surging pain flowed throughout his entire body, and Fro quickly found himself for gasping air. His head spun around slowly. His eyes were wide from pain and stress. His sight fell on Pisti’s hands, and witnessed a thin stream of flame connecting them to the fires at his legs. She had been controlling the flames the entire time.
Pisti raised a hand and six soldiers filed in front. “It’s a shame that things could not have ended peacefully, Mr. Fronomenal. I truly detest unnecessary conflict.” She turned towards her men. “Children, if you don’t mind....”
The six men in front responded with a “Yes, Mother”, and readied their weapons. With a press of a button on their weapons, their rifles folded upon themselves, and transformed into wide barreled armaments. Simultaneously, they squeezed their triggers, and from their cannon-like barrels erupted fireballs of immense heat. The shots converged at their target, and burst into a pillar of flame as they became conjoined. A deafening roar of a fiery hell was heard all over MangaRaiders, and the sky was stained with red as the flaming pillar tore into the clouds above. Despite the intensity, both were easily lost amongst the turmoil of the battle raging around them.
As dust and flame settled, the Sinner Extermination Unit approached the crater where the explosion had taken place. Fillia shook free and ran out in front, but nearly fell over in horror of what she had seen. Fro was laid out in the fetal position, his skin was charred and split. His once glorious afro reduced to nearly ash. Only a tiny portion of hair remained on his head. “Tears began pouring down her face. “Coach… No…”
Pisti’s smile rang completely sinister. She was definitely pleased with her men’s work, but at the same time, she was a bit surprised. She had expected the direct hit to have distenergrated Fronomenal, but somehow the raider had lived through the ordeal. Pisti reevaluated her understanding of her foe’s fortitude. Fro deserved more credit than her initial estimation of him. As the sister pondered this thought however, Pisti caught a glimpse of something strange. For a brief moment, a dark, violet energy pulsated around Fro’s body, only to quickly fade away a moment later. “Interesting…” Pisti mumbled to herself.
She turned around to address one of the men standing behind her. “My dear child, contact the major. Inform him that another wildcard of MangaRaiders has been neutralized.”