Psykos lounged deep in the comfortable cradle of a leather sofa, fingers curled around a half-full glass of wine. The crackle of the fireplace behind her helped to break up the silence.
She eyed upward past her three massive alternative puppets, which were encased in glass and submerged in fluid, toward her current dilemma.
I don't know what happened with Orochi, something fundamental changed within him, and I cannot pinpoint it. Psykos scrunched her brows. The scouts sent to investigate the surface haven't returned either. I feel uneasy.
Waiting for the Super Fight tournament is no longer the correct decision.
Tomorrow it begins. But first there are changes I'll need to plan beforehand.
¤ ¤ ¤
Early morning of the following day, outside of Doctor Kuseno's Laboratory, circled a gathering of individuals.
Tatsumaki, Fubuki with her Blizzard Group, Suiko, Yuta, Mosquito Girl, Genos, Boros, and a man in an outfit that obscured his iden—
"Caspian, why did we all have to gather here? You could have explained all of this anywhere else. And take off that ridiculous costume." Tatsumaki demanded.
Mosquito Girl chirped. "No, don't. I think he looks cute."
"I agree with the brat for once."
"What was that, you scrap heap?!"
Caspian motioned for everyone's attention and said, "Can everyone get along and work together today?
You all know what's at stake. Tatsumaki, without you, the surface plan isn't possible. Your support is paramount to our success."
Tatsumaki sent him a pleased smile.
I'm happy she agreed. I can't stand the idea of her receiving severe injuries against the combined might of the Monster Association's Executives.
He continued, "I chose this location because it's roughly equidistant from the cities you'll be defending.
When Boros and I enter the Monster Association's base, their leader may enact their plans and deploy their forces through an unknown exit. Your mission is to eliminate said forces."
"I will." Genos stated.
Mosquito Girl raised her hand.
"Yes?" asked Caspian.
"If Tats is flying and dropping us all off… Then why does it matter if the cities are equidistant from here?"
He shook his head. "We must not ask such questions."
"Yes sir!" Mosquito Girl's outcry earned her a couple of odd looks.
Boros, silent until now, turned to face Z-City Ghost Town. "Your words I will remember. I shall head there first." His departure mirrored Speed-o'-Sound Sonic's style of vanishing.
Is it my imagination or has he been in a bad mood since he arrived? The Monster Association is in for a rough start to their morning...
"I won't allow you to fall into the darkness." Genos muttered.
He must be worrying about Doctor Kuseno and his past, but why is he gazing at me like that?
As he glanced around, his desire for the best outcome grew.
Mosquito Girl, Yuta, and Suiko were chatting and enjoying each other's company. While Fubuki talked with Lily, Eyelashes and Mountain Ape, the rest of her Blizzard Group were busy with their own conversations.
Tatsumaki floated beside her sister, arms crossed, fingers tapping her forearm. "We're leaving." She didn't allow for questions and enveloped all except Caspian in her aura.
"Stay safe, everyone. Once I get that which I seek… nevermind, I'll see all of you soon."
"Bye, bye!" Mosquito Girl waved, unlike everyone else who pretended not to know him. Genos' odd gazes toward him didn't count, of course.
They are overreacting to my choice of attire.
Caspian headed for the laboratory's entrance. "I can spare a few minutes to check on her."
¤ ¤ ¤
"Here." Boros slammed his curved boot down onto the manhole cover, the force blasted wide a massive hole. He dropped into the sewer tunnel.
Seeing the long stretch of tunnels ahead, Boros didn't take a step, but slammed his foot down once more, allowing him to plummet further. He repeated this action until he landed in one of the countless hallways of the Monster Association's base.
"Why tell me to search the sewer tunnel? It is clear my method is superior."
Ahead of Boros stretched a concrete hallway, cold and bare. Hanging lamps lined the ceiling, while empty doorways, carved deep into both walls, gaped like missing teeth.
When he took his first step forward, multiple chalk-white dual-horned monsters covered in spikes emerged from the empty doorways and charged at him.
Boros' disappointment seeped through when the first approaching monster exploded into a red paste from a single slap. "Maybe." When the other monster arrived, he smacked the top of its head only for said head to vanish into the monster's chest cavity before it stumbled to the right of him and collapsed onto the floor.
"Rah!" The remaining monster grew enraged and charged.
"Instead of running, you choose to waste more of my time."
With a casual motion, he pushed the monster, making it fall on its back.
"RAHH!"
The monster started screaming in pain as Boros pressed his foot down on the monster's leg, crushing it. It thrashed about as it tried to free itself. But then Boros bent down and gripped the monster's other leg and pulled.
"RAH!" The chalk-white monster's face twisted in fear and pain as it felt its body tearing in half. "RAH—ehhh…" Its pained screams turned to shrieks before fading.
With a clean tear, one half of the monster dangled from Boros' hand, blood and viscera pouring onto its counterpart below, which spasmed against the floor, producing spurting and bubbling sounds.
"I feel better already." Boros tossed the trash aside and continued down the long hallway.
He traveled for an unknown period, turning down many hallways before coming across a group of four monsters. Their appearances weren't worth remembering. Only their deaths.
The first died like wet parchment being torn. Boros' armored fingers hooked into the monster's jaw and with a single fluid motion peeled its face downward, skin and muscle and esophagus unraveling like a wet scarf until its spine snapped free with a wet pop. The body collapsed, quavering, as he flicked the remnants from his gauntlet.
The second monster lunged at him. But he caught it midair by the throat, slammed it into the ground, then pressed down with his boot until its ribcage folded into itself, compressing the creature into a grisly half-height slab.
Foolishly, the third tried to flee. Boros' hand shot out, snaring its ankle before whipping it overhead in a brutal arc. The creature's face met the corridor's corner at precisely the right angle to split it diagonally from jaw to crown, painting the walls in a jagged Rorschach test of gore.
But the fourth...the fourth was special. It cowered against the wall, its multiple faces twisted in useless terror, babbling pleas falling from its trembling mouths. Boros paused, not from mercy, but from fascination. With almost tender care, he extended a single armored finger to press against its central forehead.
Its skull resisted for only a moment before yielding with a crack. Boros applied steady, inexorable pressure as the creature's wails turned to wet gurgles, its hands patting against his wrist. The forehead caved inward, then the orbits of its eyes collapsed, then the entire face folded in on itself like rotten fruit. Still, he pushed until his finger burst through the back of the ruined head with a moist crunch, leaving the wall behind decorated in neural slurry and bone fragments.
Silence. Followed by the drip of gore from his gauntlet as he withdrew. Boros stepped over the dross remains and went on his merry way.
"The recruitment drive can wait. I have not felt this amused since my first century of life. A few hundred more such thrills and the negative emotion their injuries brought me will fade to nothingness."
-- -- -- -- --
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