The Origin of: The Clockwork-Rebel (pinnacle)

"You will be my greatest creation!"

The voice was overpowering, permeating. It dominated every thought, every action. He knew that voice. It had been with him since the beginning... since the first of the innumerable gears within him began to turn. His king. The voice was always with him, a comforting, fatherly feeling always accompanied it, always present, yet never seen.

There was a satisfying >click< as the last piece was added to his form. He could feel his new limbs spring to life as they were locked into place by the sprockets which had been tasked with his construction. Nearby, one of the Prince's lumbered about ponderously, directing the actions of the lesser clockworks. He knew he was designed to better, though... better than even the dukes or princes, and through the shared mind of the clockwork "collective" he could feel a lingering jealousy buried deep underneath the overpowering will of the King.

Stepping down from his assembly platform, the King's brainchild tested his new body. It was lithe, sleek, and shimmering, not like the rusty-looking automatons that came before, and deep inside he could feel a wellspring of energy, barely kept in check by the intricate circuitry of his body.

"Now my child... go forth with a squad of sprockets and bring back precious metal that our numbers may increase!"

No words were required. The will was all there was. So with the creaking of gears and grind of metal a small army moved out towards the surface of paragon city....

<to be continued>

The harvesting was going swiftly. Under cover of night the clockworks moved swiftly and quietly. Each of the sprockets was laden with bundles of metal. Precious scrap that would allow the creation of more brothers. This "junkyard" seemed to be a gift from above. A quiet repository for the stuff of life.

With a thought or a gesture the sprockets moved at the newborns command. It was a satisfying sensation. He felt he had a purpose. He was at peace. The King new the way and his will would be carried out by the Newborn. Then... the disturbance...

There was a sound. A new sound. A sound not of metal, and not of the King's will. The newborn spun about to see 2 figures standing dumbfounded nearby. They were shaped liked him, but they were not made of metal. They were of flesh. Somehwere in the back of his mind the newborn knew these were humans. And they were the enemy... but there was no explanation as to why.

The sprockets sprung into action, loosing bolts of lightning at the intruders. They fell to the ground quickly, twitching from the electrical jolts. The newborn was confused. Metal was gathered to create more of the clockworks, there was reason for that. He was created to lead the lesser clcokworks, there was reason for that, but there was no reason for the destruction of the humans.

"Do not hesitate!" the Kings voice rang out in his mind, "They will try to stop us!"

"But why father? They were... afraid... of us."

"More will come. Swiftly now. Back to the factory!"

The Newborn and his entourage made for the entrance to the warrens beneath the street, carrying their burden of scrap metal, while the newborn now bore the burden of doubt...

Now back within the safe confines of the factory, the Newborn wrestled with these new sensations of doubt and conflict while the lesser clockworks around him went about their assigned task of creating more of their kind. His gears clicked and whirred in a most inefficient manner.

"Why father? Tell me why we fight the beings of flesh." his thoughts went out with hopes of an answer.

"It is not for you to question, child." came the reply, "Know only that it is my WILL that they be destroyed."

"And what of my will, father?" the Newborn pleaded.

"YOU HAVE NO WILL! YOU ARE MY CREATION! YOU WILL OBEY ME!" The force of the King's anger bore down on the newborn, forcing him to his knees. The other clockworks stopped in their tasks and looked on coldly.

"But you gave me thoughts of my own... The fleshlings have thoughts too... are we so different that we must fight?"

"Perhaps... you were... a mistake..." The weight of those thoughts was crushing to the mind of the Newborn. Sorrow, a new sensation, flooded through him. There was a murderous gleam in the eyes of the other Princes. The clockworks dropped their tools and turned to face the newborn. The sounds of their electrical capacitors powering up began to fill the air. The Newborn felt a deafening silence enter his mind. He had been severed from his father's thoughts. The Newborn was prepared for destruction, kneeling on the ground in despair, when a terribl crash interrupted the execution....

All of the clcokworks turned to look at the source of the explosion. The wall had crumbled under the force of the blast, leaving a pile of bricks and mortar. The pile moved. In a second flurry of motion the pile of rubble exploded, revealing a tall, red, horned figure.

Helloween surveyed his quarry. These clockworks were responsible for the deaths of two innocents and his preternatural senses had lead him here. Without a word he launched himself through the air at the nearest of the large, smoke-belching princes.

The newborn backpedaled away from the fray. Lightning, metal, and brimstone was flying left and right as the demonoid Hero pummelled the Newborns treacherous bretheren. The Newborn, confused and terrified, found a niche to hide in as the explosions and crackling of energy raged throghout the compound...